#watched edits and read fics instead of doing homework

[rd-eternity]

Trips, falls, faceplants back into full force Cherik hyperfixation. Who needs sleep when you have fanfiction!

[professorspork]

⭐️the triple meet cutes pls >:)

well, here is where the downside of the way I outline -- i.e. putting it directly into the document and then just replacing it with the prose itself as I go -- shows its head, because I'm not sure I can stitch the timeline on this together as perfectly as I'd like. luckily I can for some of it because I narrate the vast majority of my life events to @alexkablob thanks for being my searchable diary pal

lol gonna cut this too bc I AM VERBOSE

the true meet cute was always going to happen at a bar. "My friends are being jerks right now, can I sit with you?" is a line that was actually used on me (collectively, addressed to my friend group) at a bar, and it remains one of the BEST lines I've ever heard (love that poor little meow meow rizz), and it was always going to belong to Yang. I knew they'd begin there, and they'd end at "So you don't date. Do you make friends? I've been told I give great friend."

the question then became: how the fuck was I going to get Blake to go to a bar when I knew she's sober and a total hermit?

I considered her going to see a band she likes play, but didn't love that because it would put Yang in the rude position of interrupting something important that she was there to enjoy. I considered it being an open mic night, maybe something where they had an overlapping friend in common and didn't know it, but again-- that directs the scene, and suddenly it's about their mutual buddy rather than them and their chemistry. I considered several different settings (coffee shop? the park?) instead of a bar, to try and make it read smoother, but bar just Felt Right. as someone who's gone to bars to watch baseball when I didn't have access to cable, that cropped up as an idea, and then it was just a question of coming up with a sporting event Blake would possibly have interest in, and ice skating seemed feasible enough. back when I lived in the East Village, I had a corner bar I'd go to down the block from my place that had amazing fried pickles and I'd often do my homework there before it got busy, so that's where that came from.

the "last ferry out to Menagerie" paragraph, in which Blake recontextualizes and basks in her attraction to Yang after learning she's trans, is hands down the single excerpt I worked hardest on. the first step, as I was drafting it early last august, was coming up with the right metaphor in the first place. I wanted something which would help me avoid it reading like a "well you can always tell with those transes" cringefest

me: so now the thing i'm chewing on is-- is what we talked about before, which is figuring out how to write about blake being attracted to the parts of yang's appearance that are sort of self-evidently trans without it accidentally becoming a weird bioessentialist screed me: the best metaphor i've come up with so far is glasses, like-- like putting on your glasses after cleaning them when they've been smudgy for a week, and you suddenly have this wonderful appreciation for crisp little beautiful details me: but blake does not wear glasses and i'm not enough of a hack to give her glasses JUST FOR THIS (i did consider it) so now i'm trying to think of other ways to talk about that, like-- moment of dawning clarity

(sorry I did not give blake glasses. similarly, this past march while writing the big sex scene in chapter 9 I was like "well yes i'm 123k into this but what if I went through and edited everything to give Blake a nose ring wouldn't that be hot" and alexis talked me out of it so blame her.)

once I came up with the "last ferry" concept ("me, rollerblading down Main Street, AO3: HAVE YOU MARVELED AT THE CELESTIAL BEAUTY OF TRANS PEOPLE TODAY") I worked on those two sentences for over an hour. i am particular about my language and cadence always, but even for me this is uh absurdly excessive. WORTH IT THO, because it's the most important passage in the whole fic. i deleted and rephrased it probably a hundred times, trying to get the right flow, the right lyricism, and crucially not say "stars" 8 different times.

Blake's deep dark secret being that she's a country fan has been baked into this fic's essence from the very beginning; the title, "something wild and unruly," is from a Dixie Chicks song for this reason. IT WILL CONTINUE TO BE RELEVANT, and I had to get it in early.

as I've told several people, the "deck building game" joke also comes directly from my life. Helen and I went to New Jersey last June to do wedding errands -- tastings, fittings, engagement photo shoot -- and while we were there we visited a very cute bar in my hometown as a potential night-before-wedding hangout space. she casually mentioned that her sibling was texting her about... oh gosh, I can't remember the name of it, but I went "what's that?" and she said "a deck-building game" and because I was home, and thus around my mother and how she has HGTV on all the time, instead of oh, like Dominion I went "like a porch?" and then she laughed and laughed and I said "well that's definitely going in the fic."

luckily my wife is used to that, because I stole from our lives a great deal. she first started having car battery trouble in January of 2023, and then we opened up the hood and found scary corrosion and my dad talked me through how to clean that out the way Neptune does. from then on it was sort of floating in the back of my mind that this could be something I used in the story-- Blake's car is 100% based on Helen's car, which she bought at a police auction and clearly had a Rough Backstory-- but it was three weeks later that we finally got tired of jumping it all the time and called AAA. the guy really DID come like 2 minutes after I put the request in on the app, so shockingly Yang's fast turnaround time is actually based on life. and about ten minutes after that happened I declared:

me: no real-life anecdote is ever wasted and this is DEFINITELY happening to blake after she and yang have their meet-cute and it's yang who shows up and has to be like WELL HOW ABOUT THAT SERENDIPITY :D

about three months later I then had my OWN battery troubles, and that's when I went out of my way to ask the tech who came about a million questions about what the multimeter read and how cold crank amp tests worked. I pretty much wrote our conversation verbatim into a note on my phone, which became what Yang said. (the fellow who came then also had a very sharp and snazzy work shirt, and that's when I thought about how cute the little Yang on her breast pocket would be)

only it would be--

Yang

:) okay anyway

I don't know what it is about competent service professionals that make me go "you're Yang Xiao Long actually" but I've done it twice now, with my wedding DJ and with the AAA people

I went back and forth on whether the library meet-cute would come before or after the car scene, but in its earliest incarnation the idea was just that Yang would come up to the circ desk to check something out and oops Blake's standing there. at one point I even considered having Yang ask her out to lunch. once I realized it behooved me to have Yang and Pyrrha already be friends, so Pyrrha could vouch for her, I knew it had to come at the end to tie everything in a bow.

[froizetta]

WIP Wednesday: baby edition

This week I present my first attempt at writing DC fic for a pairing other than superbat - but, you know, only barely because this is for superbat mini, aka jondami. This is the start of a fic I'm planning out about Jon and Damian through the years (ignoring Bendis' timeskip because I can) in a coming of age story, in which Jon tries to deal with figuring out he's bi and having a crush on his cool(-ish) older best friend. Working title: Puberty Fucking Sucks because like. It just does.

It started when Jon was 12.

There wasn’t anything special about the day itself. In fact, it was pretty ordinary: a normal Thursday afternoon where he and Damian were passing the time between school and patrol in their base, as they did every week. Damian was sitting on the floor with his back to the couch, curled over his sketchbook, doing… Well, Jon didn’t know what Damian put in his sketchbook, since he’d made Jon promise not to look. Jon was nice and a good friend – and maybe a little scared of what Damian might consider fair retribution – so he always humored him.

Meanwhile, Jon was slumped on the couch, putting off doing his homework by half-reading a manga that Damian had recommended. A…shujo? Shogo? Some kind of romance thing. Whatever it was, it wasn’t really enough to capture Jon’s attention. So instead, he found himself watching Damian.

They’d been best friends for most of the last 2 years at this point, so Damian was very familiar to him at this point. But in his boredom, Jon found himself focusing on the details of his face in a way he hadn't before, looking at the parts and not the whole. His eyes were slanted and striking, piercingly and vividly green even hidden below the thick, dark sweep of his lashes. His nose had a little bump at the bridge, and his mouth was small and turned down at the corners, so he always looked a little grumpy even when he was in a good mood. His hair was dark and crazy thick (it was an Arab thing apparently, or so Damian had told him when he’d mentioned it one time) and it was surprisingly soft when he didn’t style it. Jon knew that from personal experience, because once Damian had let Jon hug him during a sleepover when he’d had a nightmare, and Jon couldn’t help but rub his face into it a little, like a cat. Damian had grumbled a little but hadn’t pulled away

Damian was really pretty, Jon thought. It wasn’t a new thought. Damian had always been pretty – though not pretty like girls were pretty, just…attractive. It was just a fact of life, in the way that most actors and pop stars and even Damian’s own parents were just obviously, objectively nice to look at.

But still, something about this Damian was different from the version that lived in Jon’s head. He was still shorter than Jon, although not by much. But even though Damian was smaller than him, he somehow looked…more. Older. His hands had always been long and kinda elegant, but now they looked as strong as Jon knew they were. And his jaw was no longer round and soft like Jon’s, but sharp and defined. Masculine. There was a breadth to his shoulders that felt new, even though logically it couldn’t be since he saw Damian most days, but…but somehow he hadn’t really noticed it before. It made his uniform blazer hang differently, in a way that felt weirdly distracting.

Damian wasn’t just pretty anymore, he realized. Damian was handsome. And Jon wasn’t sure why, but something about that thought got to him, made him feel weirdly hot and squirmy inside.

He quickly buried his face in the pages of the manga he wasn’t reading. He’d felt like this before, months ago. He was watching a commercial break with his parents and the pretty actress on screen had really enjoyed her branded yoghurt. Jon had gone very quiet and very red, and his dad had shot him a knowing look. Which was pretty much the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to anyone ever.

Jon had mumbled something about finishing his homework and fled upstairs. He spent most of that evening typing a bunch of awkward questions into google in private browsing mode. And then after that, he’d guiltily rewatched that yoghurt commercial a few dozen times – but on mute, so his dad couldn’t hear. His attempt at secrecy didn't really pay off, because a week later his dad had come into his room and sat him down for a Talk, as in the Talk, which had firmly pushed the yoghurt incident itself to second place in the ranking of Most Embarrassing Things.

But…but this didn’t make sense, Jon thought to himself. Why would Jon be having yoghurt commercial feelings about Damian? Damian was his best friend!

He chanced a peek at Damian over the top of his manga. It was still just Damian, familiar and sulky and way lamer than he liked to pretend he was. His best friend, Damian. He had his head bowed, pink tongue poking out between his lips like it did when he was intensely focused, and for some reason Jon couldn’t stop staring—

He forcibly ripped his gaze away, mortified. Oh no, this was weird. This was so weird. The yoghurt commercial was rapidly being pushed to third place in the rankings. He needed to leave right now.

He stood abruptly. “Hey, so I’m gonna go.”

Damian turned his head to look at him sharply. His habitual scowl was tinged with confusion. “What? Go where? We’re supposed to patrol in an hour.”

“Just training,” Jon said, false-bright. “I’m gonna work on some stuff. Training stuff.”

The confusion was very much still present. “Oookay?” Damian said. He flipped his sketchbook closed. “Did you want to spar? I could—”

“Nope,” Jon chirped, already edging towards the door. He was trying very hard to look at anything but Damian, which was probably super suspicious, but. Looking at Damian just felt like a lot, okay?

“It’s just some dumb superpower training my dad told me to do,” he continued. “It wouldn’t interest you, trust me. So you can just stay right here, while I go…away from here.” He winced. “Anyway, see you at patrol!”

He didn’t wait for Damian to respond before he turned and marched out of the room, well aware that he was acting absolutely insane but completely powerless to stop it. Thankfully, even though Jon knew Damian was incredibly suspicious of his behavior, he didn’t follow him.

Jon spent the rest of the time before patrol carefully carving patterns into wooden blocks with his heat vision and trying not to think about Damian’s opinions on Activia.

[solo-ojo-jojo]

Excerpt from an upcoming OTH fic

Author's note: I've been working on a multi-chapter fic about Keith and Karen (as it stands, spanning a decade or two) partially inspired by this exchange between Karen and Whitey in season 3:

"You had Camilla for a lifetime. I had Keith for a few weeks." "Whose fault was that?"

I had a lot of thoughts about what their relationship was like in the years before the start of the show, including what opportunities there had been for the two of them to try something more than friendship, because you know there had to be at least one instance where they had considered it. I had no idea where it would lead me, but the muses have been kind, and I have been excited to share part of what I've been working on.

Coming back to watch OTH as an adult has been interesting, and I've found myself more invested in the storylines of the adults' lives/relationships than the kids' (at least so far). I've also really enjoyed the episodes of the Drama Queens podcast that I've listened to and the insights I've gained into many of the characters and their motivations.

The following excerpt is a few years into their friendship, set in the fall of 1986, and will likely end up being the fourth or fifth chapter.

The working title is Is Almost Enough?

(don't mind my rudimentary photo editing skills of Keith & Karen circa 1986. I'm basically only happy with the insertion of the "TH" onto the sweater) Original photos (at the end of the post) are promo stills from Voyage of the Rock Aliens (1984) and The Cutting Edge (1992), respectively.

One Tree Hill Fanfiction | Keith Scott/Karen Roe | Rated T

Alternate Universe - Pre canon | Inspired by canon | Everybody Lives/Nobody Dies | Friends to Lovers | The Slowest of Burns

Story summary: A look at Keith and Karen throughout the years, starting with when they met in middle school. They have their ups and downs, but with a few tweaks to the events in this universe, they eventually find a happily ever after—together.

Chapter summary: Who am I kidding? Keith told himself. Left to his own devices, he would never have worked up the nerve to ask her out. But now that the opportunity was here, he wasn’t going to let the moment pass him by.

* *** *

Despite the brisk chill in the October air, Karen found herself sitting across from Keith at their usual study spot in the quad. Having finished her chemistry homework, she pulled out the novel she had started reading the prior day. The modern gothic authors were a new favorite of hers after recently being introduced to them in her English class, but that afternoon, the copy of Flowers in the Attic that sat in front of her was seemingly no longer enough to hold her attention.

Instead, she found herself peeking up from the pages to look at Keith, admiring the way the breeze swept through his hair and secretly wishing that her fingers could do the same. She loved the look of concentration on his face and the last thing she wanted to do was break his focus when she was so proud of him for deciding to apply to a couple of four-year universities in addition to the local community college. There was a fleeting thought of how much she would miss him next year when he was off at college, but she brushed it aside. There was something she needed to tell him, and Karen didn’t want to wait a moment longer.

“Dan and I broke up,” she said abruptly.

Keith’s head jerked back, but he kept his eyes on the application he had been filling out. “I…” He steeled himself and looked up at her expectant face. “I’m sorry to hear that, Karen.” He tapped his pen on the table as he thought about what to say next. “How are you, uh–how are you doing with that?”

“Well, first I was pissed. But that was before we broke up. And then I was relieved. Because I didn’t have to put up with his crap anymore. And now… Well, now I’m…” she looked into Keith’s eyes, her expression growing hopeful as she came closer to the words she had been holding onto for far too long. “I’m happy. Because there’s this other guy who I really like.”

She watched as Keith’s face dropped, suddenly becoming stoic.

“And I’m hoping that… Well, if he likes me too, he might ask me out.”

“Oh,” he said quietly, not picking up on her hints. “Well, I hope that works out for you.” He looked down at the application once more, and found that her news left him unable to make sense of the words on the page in front of him.

“Keith…” Karen waited for his gaze to return to hers. She gave him a look, willing him to understand. She smiled shyly.

“Oh!” A slow smile grew on his face as the realization hit him. Flustered by being put on the spot and Karen’s nervous smile as she hoped for reciprocation, Keith hardly had time to process it all. For all the time they had spent together over the years and the almost unlimited array of topics they discussed, one thing he had never come close to telling her was that he carried feelings for her of something more than friendship. He liked to think that, eventually—when enough time had passed after her break-up—he might have come up with the idea to ask her out on his own. After testing the waters to find out if she was even interested, of course.

Who am I kidding? He told himself. Left to his own devices, he would never have worked up the nerve. But now that the opportunity was here, he wasn’t going to let the moment pass him by.

“I… Karen…” his chest puffed out with confidence and his chin lifted as he asked her a question he thought he would never say. “Do you want to go out on a date with me?”

Karen’s face lit up, and Keith felt his heart soar.  

“Yes,” she answered. “I do.”

“You’re sure it’s not too soon?”

“It’s not soon enough.”

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

That's all, folks!

I hope there's at least one person out there who enjoyed this, because there's a lot more where this came from.

If you did enjoy it, I'd love to hear what you think!

Lastly, here are the originals that I edited for my version above.

[thesevenwondersofawitch]

I'm Not Ready To Say Goodbye

Larissa Weems x Morticia Addams.

Read it on Ao3. Watch the companion edit to this fic on YouTube.

It's their senior year, and Morticia is dating Gomez Addams. When she starts to fall behind in one of her classes, she turns to her roommate and best friend, Larissa Weems.

Though reluctant at first, Larissa eventually gives in and agrees to do Morticia's homework.

What Morticia doesn't know is that Larissa really likes her, and she's hoping that by doing her best friend's homework, Morticia will finally notice her in a more-than-friends way. Morticia continues to spend most of her time talking about how wonderful Gomez is, leading Larissa to try and bury her feelings for her roommate.

After months of doing her work for her, and covering for Morticia when she sneaks out at night for secret dates with Gomez, Larissa finally has enough and decides she has to tell Morticia how she feels.

Only, before Larissa can tell her, Morticia excitedly cuts her off with the news that Gomez has proposed to her. And she said yes.

Heartbroken, Larissa plasters a fake smile on her face and congratulates her, unable to bring herself to tell her roommate how she feels.

If Morticia notices the hollow tone in which Larissa speaks, or the watery look in her eyes, she doesn't comment on it.

And it was at that moment that everything fully shifted between them, and they grew apart.

Later, when Morticia stands in front of the grave of her former roommate and best friend, long after everyone else has departed the funeral, she thinks about that moment between them.

She recalls the sadness in Larissa's eyes as she gave Morticia a small, shaky smile and seemed to force out the words 'Congratulations Morticia!'

She remembers how it was the first time in years that Larissa didn't use Morticia's nickname.

At the time, Morticia noticed the change in tone and name, but chose not to think on the reason behind it. 

Despite being a caring person, she was high on champagne and excitement after celebrating with her new fiancé, and she just couldn't seem to bring herself to care about anything but how she was going to be Gomez's wife.

She didn't let Larissa finish what she was going to say before Morticia interrupted her, and she hadn't cared to ask.

And because of this, her friendship with Larissa fizzled out, she hadn't even realized how much of an impact the Shapeshifter had made in her life until it was too late, and then they graduated and Morticia left to New Jersey with Gomez, while Larissa left to study to become a teacher.

Through the years, she found herself wanting to call the blonde, even to just hear her voice. But she could never bring herself to go through with it, and instead, she kept tabs on her from afar.

When Larissa got the job as Principal of Nevermore Academy, Morticia sent her a bouquet of Pansies, Violets and a single red rose from her garden. 

Morticia received a reply of; 'Thank you. The flowers are beautiful by the way, I put them in a vase in my new office. Hope you and your family are well.' written on Nevermore stationary, and signed as Principal Larissa Weems. And that was the last time they exchanged any form of communication until Morticia's daughter was expelled from yet another school, and Morticia and Gomez made the decision to send Wednesday to Nevermore.

Even when they were sat across from each other, physically separated only by a desk, they were separated by so much more. Larissa was still Larissa, but Morticia was now Mrs. Addams, and the distance between them stretched on and on, and neither would make the move across it. 

Morticia's daughter moved into the dorm that she and Larissa once shared, and aside from a few smiles and vague quips about their past, they did not interact further.

Morticia knew how Larissa felt about her, knew what she tried to tell Morticia, and Morticia hadn't realized until years after the fact, and by then, she was married with a baby on the way, and Larissa was working up in her career.

She was too late. Too late to realize, too late to reach out, too late to save her. 

At the time, Morticia had been in her own greenhouse, alone, feeding her beloved carnivorous plant, Cleopatra. When, without warning, her body froze as she was struck unexpectedly with a vision. 

It happened at the exact moment when Larissa Weems was killed in the conservatory, though she wouldn't learn this until a day later, when she received a call from Sheriff Galpin.

She saw Larissa falling to the ground choking violently as the Nightshade poison worked its way through her system. She watched helplessly as her former roommate and best friend stared up at Wednesday with terrified eyes as she seemed to drown in her own saliva.

And Morticia could only stare in horrifying silence as she watched Larissa Weems draw her final breath as her body stilled. Her vision faded as her daughter voiced what Morticia already knew had killed the Shapeshifter.

And when Morticia awoke from her vision, it was with a shaking grasp as tears clouded her eyesight, and Poor Pugsley was knelt beside her on the conservatory floor.

He had come looking for her after he woke up with the feeling like something bad had happened to Wednesday, only to find his mother stiff as a board on the floor, the food for her plant laying among the shattered bowl a few feet away. 

Morticia had blinked up at him, not quite hearing as he called her name and asked if she was ok.

Her heart was hammering in her chest, her blood pumping hard in her ears, as she dazedly looked around.

She hadn't had a powerful vision like that since she was around Wednesday's age, and even then, it was never something so dark.

Morticia was vaguely aware as her son called for his father, and then she felt strong arms lift her to her feet and steady her. She blinked as her husband's concerned and slightly panicked face came into view, and she was struck by the realization that Gomez had never been around her when she experienced such strong visions, that had all been before they begun dating, and it was Larissa who had been there to help her regain her footing in the physical world. Morticia felt her blood run cold, and Gomez placed a steadying hand on her shoulder, but she suddenly felt like everything was closing in.

"I- I must call Larissa." Morticia gasped out as she brushed her husband's hands away, she heard him call her name as she stumbled away to the small room beyond the conservatory, "Something's happened at the school." She said as she slumped into the chair in front of the desk, on which sat one of her crystal balls. 

She knew that Larissa kept a small crystal ball in a drawer in her desk; she had been using it to communicate with the Addams' about Wednesday's schooling.

She felt Gomez rush up behind her, telling Pugsley to try and get a hold of Wednesday on his crystal ball.

But Larissa did not answer, and neither did Wednesday. And the next day they would learn what happened at the school.

And around a week later they arrived in town for Larissa Weems' funeral. The whole school was there, students and teachers, and some normies from the town, including the sheriff.

Morticia sat quietly, holding her husband's hand, with Pugsley sitting on her other side. She made eye contact with Wednesday, who was sitting across the way beside her roommate Enid, a sweet werewolf who seemed to stick to Wednesday's side throughout the whole service.

The skin between Wednesday's eyes scrunched slightly in concern, and Morticia lifted the corners of her lips in the smallest of smiles to reassure her daughter, before focusing her eyes on the man speaking about the passing of life and death.

She felt Wednesday's eyes on her a few more seconds, before she looked away to listen as her friend whispered something in her ear. 

Morticia glanced over to watch them, suddenly struck not for the first time by how much the two girls remind her of herself and her former roommate when they were young.

After the service, Morticia sent Gomez and Pugsley to The Weathervane to have some warm drinks to help fight the sharp sting of cold. And she waited until everyone else had left before she slowly approached the fresh grave.

She stared at the name engraved on the stone, allowing herself to cry quietly now that she was alone. Her eyes traced the letters over and over, and she swallowed thickly around the knot in her throat.

"I'm sorry." She said, her voice barely a whisper as she felt tears slide down her cheeks.

She laced her fingers together, shifting on her feet. "I know the students were your everything, and I thank you for protecting my daughter." She took a deep breath, "and I'm sorry I wasn't there."

Her tongue flicked out to wet her lips, tasting the salt of her tears on them. Pursing her lips, she stepped forward so she was standing closer to the headstone, the skirt of her dress brushing across the newly placed dirt.

She unlaced her hands and gently rested her right hand on the top of the stone. "I'm sorry I didn't realize what it was you tried to tell me until it was too late."

She took another deep breath, "I want you to know," she squeezed her eyes shut tightly and shook her head once as tears dripped off her chin, forcing herself to plough on; "I want you to know that I love you. Even when I didn't realize I did, even when I didn't show it. Especially when I didn't show it. I have and always will love you, and I'm sorry it was too late for us."

Her fingers were cold as ice, just like the body of the woman she loved that was buried beneath her feet. 

'At least we share that.' Morticia thought, allowing it to comfort her somewhat as she withdrew her hand and took a step back.

She reached into a pocket on her long black coat and drew from within a flower; a violet, which she placed on the soil in front of the headstone, before lacing her fingers together once again.

She felt a familiar presence approaching from behind, and smiled slightly as she turned to look into the expressionless face of her daughter, Wednesday, who came to stand next to her. "Hello Wednesday."

"Mother." Wednesday nodded at her, and then took a step forward to place something on the top of the headstone. When Wednesday returned to her mother's side, Morticia saw that Wednesday had placed a red poppy atop the stone. 

The flower's petals reminded Morticia of blood. And that led her mind to wander to the unwelcome reminder that the Poppy matched the color of the warm blood that once rushed through Larissa's veins.

Morticia was drawn from her thoughts by an arm lacing through her own. Blinking, she looked to her left to find Wednesday staring at her, her arm (albeit slightly stiff) intertwined with Morticia's. It was rare for her daughter to show physical affection.

Yet another thing that changed after the incident at the school.

"I'm afraid my head was lost in the storm clouds. Did you ask me something, darling?" Morticia asked.

Wednesday was frowning "I asked if you were alright." 

Morticia gave her daughter a small wet smile, moving her hand to gently pat her daughter's arm. "I will be."

"You two were friends." Wednesday stated.

Morticia smiled with a bittersweet look on her face as she looked at the headstone again.

She was silent for a few moments, during which Wednesday continued to watch her.

Suddenly Morticia spoke, though it was quiet. "Yes. We were practically inseparable for many of our school years, I was always dragging her into all sorts of trouble." She hesitated briefly, before adding; "We were more than roommates. We were like family."

Wednesday looked away from her mother now, her eyebrows furrowed as she thought over the words.

They stood in comfortable silence for a few minutes, before Wednesday broke it. "I didn't hate her as much as I thought I would." 

Morticia laughed, a sweet, chiming sound, and Wednesday watched her mother with the slightest bit of amusement in her eyes. "It is hard to hate a woman like Larissa Weems." She was smiling normally now, and Wednesday relaxed slightly, secretly content she managed to cheer her mother up.

"Enid and I were wondering if you would like to join us for a drink at The Weathervane." Wednesday wasn't looking at her mother as she spoke, but had her eyes focused on her blonde roommate, who stood on the sidewalk outside The Weathervane with her arms out at her sides, looking as if she was trying to balance on the cracks like it was a rope.

Morticia looked at her daughter with soft fondness, "I would love to."

Wednesday nodded once sharply, eyes still on the blonde in front of the coffee shop. The corner of her mouth lifted slightly as she watched Enid nearly trip over her own feet as she spun around to go back the way she had come.

Morticia noticed Wednesday's expression, and her smile widened, she bumped her shoulder lightly against her daughter's. Wednesday quickly looked away from Enid and met her mother's eyes briefly before focusing her gaze ahead of them, they began a slow stroll towards the shop.

"Enid seems nice." Her mother turned to say.

Wednesday gained some color in her pale skin.

"We should have her over to visit soon." Morticia continued, causing Wednesday to swallow.

"Perhaps."

"Good, I shall discuss the arrangements with her parents." Morticia smiled at her daughter's roommate who looked over as they crossed the street. Enid grinned and skipped over to join them once they reached the sidewalk.

"Enid! You remember my mother?" Wednesday said the girl's name with affection, and Morticia found it amusing." 

"Of course! Hi Mrs. Addams." Enid grinned brightly, bouncing a bit in place.

Enid reminded Morticia of a golden retriever, and she watched amused as Enid happily linked arms with Wednesday, so now she was in-between her mother and Enid. Morticia noted that Wednesday was perfectly fine with Enid touching her, even seeming to find comfort in it as she relaxed once the werewolf came to her side. Morticia smiled to herself.

They entered The Weathervane to slight chaos, as it was very busy. Spotting Wednesday's father and brother, Enid led the way over to the table by the window.

Gomez stood to allow Morticia to slide into the booth, before he left to get drinks for her and the girls. As Wednesday settled with Enid beside her in the seats across from her mother, Pugsley sat down next to Enid, and Morticia smiled at the children before looking out the window.

Her eyes immediately looked towards the square. She couldn't see the cemetery from where she sat, or Larissa's grave, but the sight of it was still fresh in her mind's eye, and taking a deep breath, she allowed her eyes to drift closed.

The sound of cups being placed on the table a few minutes later had her opening her eyes once more. She smiled as her husband placed a warm drink in front of her with a sweet smile. "Your drink, mi amor." 

"Thank you, mon cher."

And as her family talked amongst themselves, Morticia couldn't help but keep glancing towards the path that led to the cemetery, thinking with a sigh 'oh Rissa, I don't want to say goodbye.' 

[all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney]

This Boy (George Harrison x Female!Reader)

A/N: Hey y'all! welcome to my first oneshot! a lot of my stories are very plot-driven and they end up becoming these long chapter fics but I'm gonna see if I can make a handful of oneshots in the next little bit to kind of give yous something to read while waiting for the longer fics to finish up. this is my first one, and it's for Georgie!

Summary: It's date night, and you're more than ready to meet your mystery date; George, however, is not.

WARNINGS: Swearing is in almost all my fics, so this one isn't safe either probably, hints of suggestive behaviour, slow burn, friends to lovers, lack of self-editing probably, etc. *This fic is also LONG AF so I would advise y'all to start reading this when you have nothing else to do*

I'll rate this one as a T. Enjoy, folks!

George checked the clock on the wall again and sighed gently.

You were still getting ready.

As much as it disappointed him, George agreed-- well, more like offered-- to drive you to your blind date one of your girlfriends set you up on.

It's not that he wasn't excited or proud of you for getting yourself out there. He knew you'd been meaning to do that since graduating school.

He was just frustrated at the fact that whichever lucky man was going on a date with you that night wasn't him.

When he found out about the date, he immediately vocalized his distrust for the mystery person, despite knowing absolutely zero about him. You seemed heartbroken at that, and to make it up to you, he offered to drive you to the date.

So there he was, sitting on the sofa in the living area of your flat, waiting for you to finish getting ready.

George had taken you to school dances in the past, and while your mother let you wear makeup to them, it never took you this long to apply it.

You were definitely dressing to impress tonight.

"Lucky man," he just mumbled under his breath at the thought of that boy.

You and George had been friends since you were children, and he deemed you his Best Friend Forever only an hour into your first playtime.

You spent your days as children riding your bikes to the park to play, and helping each other with homework at each other's houses every night.

However, that sort of platonic "buddy-buddy" dynamic changed when the both of you hit puberty.

It wasn't until a boy at George's school questioned him if you were his girlfriend, that George realized he had a crush on you. Some of his friends had girl friends, and they were always teased about whether or not they were dating, but this was the first time anyone had put you and George together.

After this discovery, (which he would endlessly thank the young boy who opened his eyes to the truth in the first place) George began to notice lots of little things about you that he hadn't before.

You would run your fingers through the hair on the back of his head during hugs, you never took your eyes away from him when he was speaking; there hadn't been one time to name that you'd ever made him upset or angry, but more or less excited, and free, and joyous.

And not to mention, the way you called him "Georgie" made his heart pound so loud and hard in his chest that he might as well have just completed a marathon...

He was in love with everything only when you were around.

Actually, as awkward as George thinks it is, Paul helped him realize he was physically attracted to you.

The boys were on their way to George's after school, a few years after George realized he had a little crush on you, and the teenagers both caught sight of you watering the front garden of your home at the request of your mother.

George stopped in his tracks when he saw you, his mouth hanging open as he watched you do your thing. After being enrolled in his boy's school, you never had much time to see one another, as much as it hurt him; so he cherished every moment he could see you.

"If her ma catches you out the window starin' at her daughter's arse the way you're doin' right now Harrison, they'll rip your tongue right out."

George's face went bright red, and he turned to look at Paul in horror, slapping him on the arm for saying such a thing. "I wasn't staring at her like that!" But he couldn't help but steal a glance at your behind since it was now the topic of discussion, though he really didn't want it to be.

Paul knew George felt compelled to say something to you, and he smirked as George awkwardly raised his hand to wave as he called to you from the other side of the street.

"H-hey, Y/n!"

You turned around, and grinned at who you'd seen.

"Hey Georgie! Hi Paulie!" You twiddled your fingers at them, and George's stomach churned in jealousy at the fact you had a nickname for Paul, as well.

"Your garden looks beautiful, Ms. Y/l/n!"

Paul stole George's line. He fucking stole his line!

"A-and you look just as lovely as ever!" George added to one-up his friend.

You put a hand to your heart. "You boys make my heart sing." George took pride in your words despite them partially being for Paul as well.

"We need to see each other more, yeah?" George never expected his question to really get him anywhere, but he was wrong.

"Why not tonight? I don't have any homework and my parents are leaving town 'round five for the weekend to visit my auntie and uncle."

George's answer came quick, and effortlessly. "I'll be 'round for six. Sound good?"

"Perfect! I'll see you tonight then." You waved to the boys again, and then went back to watering the garden after bidding farewell.

The rest of the walk home was just Paul making fun of how lovestruck George was with you, and by the time they got to his house, just down the road from yours, Paul looked over at his buddy and smiled.

"No wonder you value your time with your darlin' over there so much, Magpie. Looks like she would definitely be a fine birdie in bed."

George looked over at Paul, eyes wide, and his voice broke. "... What?!" The thought of going to bed with you never crossed his mind-- well, until that moment.

"Hey, her folks'll be gone by the time you go over! You can make your move then! It's perfect!" Paul's words laced with excitement made George feel panicked, and the boy shook his head worriedly after a moment. "M-maybe it's not the best idea to go tonight..."

"Why not? All you ever wanna do is be alone with her!" Paul set a hand on the other boy's shoulder when he didn't answer. "What's up, George?"

"Paul, I've never even kissed her. She doesn't even know I like her like that! What if she likes someone else?! What do I even do?!" Paul was the biggest heartbreaker George knew. He'd had like... ten girlfriends since they met, and he kissed a whole three of them. They didn't last long, much like the fate of other young relationships, but George took Paul's advice as serious guidance; he needed to in a time like this.

"You just need to be calm. Take some deep breaths. You'll know what to do when the time comes. I know you will."

That night, George had many opportunities to dive in for a kiss, or mention his feelings for you; some of those opportunities he even believed you encouraged, but he didn't budge out of utter fear of rejection. George knew for a fact that Paul was going to facepalm when he asks him for details on the visit to your place.

Instead, the night only consisted of talking, and the only contact you made were a couple of hugs and a kiss on the cheek (which left George a stumbling mess again), though you did agree to spend more time together, which is how your friendship lasted so long.

He was so close to having you, and because he was too scared to make the move Paul (and maybe you) were encouraging him to make so long ago, you slipped through his fingers; and since, the thought of not being able to have you that way never left his mind.

Especially not when you were now a gorgeous young lady, blindly torturing poor George, who beat himself up every day because he lost his chance.

You were like a piece of artwork to George. You could be loved, admired, and looked at by him, but he could never hold you or touch you.

And George hated that.

George wanted you to be his girl.

And you were his girl-- well, in a twisted way. You were always with him, smiling and laughing about nothing and everything, holding onto each other in your darkest nights and guiding one another through personal struggles...

But when other boys started to want you too, George wanted to make it a point to keep the majority of them away.

Some didn't heed George's threats and went on to pursue you anyways, only to be turned down on your front steps by yourself. George never understood why you never reciprocated anybody's feelings, but it's not like he was verbally complaining.

And that's what lead up to tonight. George had wanted you for so long, and the sudden knowledge of a blind date had him in shock, especially since this was your very first time giving in and agreeing to go.

It killed him to know some rando was going to appear out of thin air to whisk you away, whisper sweet nothings in your ear and eventually put his hands on you, thinking his love for you is stronger than any other despite knowing absolutely nothing about how you should be loved, and treated...

But George hid his fury from you because you were excited about this date.

And he would do anything for you.

George's rage-inducing, mind-racing thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your bedroom door clicking shut from behind him. He turned his head, heart in his throat, and you stepped into the room.

You wore a lovely high-waisted navy dress, and a pair of black flats. Your hair was half down, the rest coming together at the back of your head by a matching clip-on bow.

As expected, your makeup was quite noticeable. The burgundy colour of your lips and dark brown eyeshadow had George's head spinning, and he couldn't resist ogling at the way that dress fit you so well...

"So… How do I look? Like, if we were about to go on a date..."

A date? Us? We?!

George's palms began to sweat, and his heart did somersaults. If only.

It was only then that he realized his mouth was hanging slightly ajar, and after snapping it shut, he swallowed in embarrassment, not daring to look anywhere but your eyes again in fear of falling victim to your appearance again.

Imagine not being able to trust your eyes?

"... What would you think?"

George squeaked, his lips moving hesitantly though he didn't make a sound. His face was surely an embarrassing shade of red, and the longer he waited into answer, the more anticipated you looked for a response.

George rose to his feet and approached you, bravely deciding to give you another good onceover after a deep breath, though he kind of lost all sense of feeling in his legs when you smiled at him with that perfect mouth of yours...

"Wow." George sighed, eyelids falling heavy over his brown irises as he admired you.

"I just... you... wow, Y/n." He couldn't come up with a coherent sentence with the way you were staring at him like that.

God, he was absolutely smitten with you.

Your eyes shone joyously as you placed your hand on your heart, and George, as impossible to him as it seemed, fell so much more in love with you than he was just moments before. Your presence rendered him speechless, and the thought inflated your ego a lot more than you would have expected it to.

George remained silent, but his gaze was still glued to you. He'd looked at you for long enough in his life to probably draw you perfectly by memory, but he still took his time to drink in what he was given; because who knew if he'd ever be able to see more of you than this?

"I... I'm-- I'm speechless, is what I am." He cleared his throat after a moment and said, "I... honestly hope my eyes are doing all the talking for me."

"Aw, you're just a sweetiepie, aren't you?"

You beamed at George, blushing as you took another step toward him. "Well Georgie... if you keep looking at me and sweet-talking the way you are..." your warm words were carefully chosen, and it was obvious that George was hanging into every single word you were saying.

"I may just have to pass on this date and spend tonight with you." Your eyelids fell heavy over your eyes, and you offered George a smile that was suggesting something maybe not so innocent.

"Wh-what?!"

"... I said I'm ready to go." You raised your eyebrow in a little confusion at George's flustered state.

Oh my fucking God she didn't even say that?!

Idiot.

Idiot, idiot, idiot.

"... R-right, yes, of course." George shook his head as if to rid his brain of the idea of tricking him like that again. He offered his arm out to you, and you linked yours with his before walking to the door together.

You passed a mirror on the way out, and George caught a glimpse of the both of your reflections, and his chest felt like it was on fire.

He looked so happy to be with you in that moment.

And you looked so happy to be leaving to spend time with another man.

George just hoped at least the reflection of him and you were going on this date together, and both of those smiles were meant for each other.

George pulled up to whatever restaurant this guy wanted to meet you at, which was on the other side of town. George did not approve of this and even reminded you of this on the way there, though you insisted you'd be fine, like you had the couple of times he mentioned this before.

You looked at him after he threw his car into park, and he gave you a little smile after a moment, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"You do look beautiful, Y/n. This guy... he's very lucky."

"I... I don't know what to say."

"Say you believe me."

You didn't say anything. Instead, you smiled sadly, and leaned in to kiss George's cheek. His skin darkened to pink beneath your lips before you could pull away and leave the car with another goodbye, though his ears were ringing and he missed your final farewell.

She doesn't believe me...

George waited until he saw you were seated in the restaurant to put his car back into drive, but something kept him from lifting his foot off the brake. He watched you adjust your silverware at your table, and clasp your hands together in wait.

... Maybe George wanted to wait for this guy to show up.

But would he really want to kill himself by spying on you and watching you fall for someone who wasn't him over the course of one night?

That was the question that made him decide to look back, and pull out of his parking space before he could spot anyone even go near the building. He was in drive and speeding home moments later.

The car ride back to his flat was a quiet one. George kept the radio off, and his fingers drummed against the steering wheel the whole time as if he were almost impatient to get home and do nothing.

Every time he looked in the rear view mirror and saw his eyes stare back at him, it just reminded him that his reflection left that restaurant alone and just as disappointed as his real counterpart.

It wasn't long before George pulled into his building's parking space and sulked out of his car, slamming the door shut. His eyes and nose were burning from the assault of unfallen tears.

He dropped you off to meet this guy. This was all on him this time.

George loved you. He loved you with all his heart, enough to swallow his pride-- sacrifice his happiness for your own.

As much as he didn't want to admit it, dropping you off that night felt like he was letting you go.

And was he?

He pretty much stumbled through the door because his fucks to give for himself were pretty much nonexistent at this point. He kicked his shoes off, not caring if he scuffed up the wall with black marks.

He just wanted to have a long hot shower, crawl into bed, and hide from everyone.

And that's just what he did.

His shower was well over an hour long, and that's where he broke down and cried for the majority of the time. He cried about you, and the situation his own decisions put himself in. He cried in jealousy for the threat sweeping you off your feet right now, and he cried as if that was the last night he'd ever see you again.

When he got out of the shower, well after the stream went cold, he had no more tears to shed. He was dehydrated, and he felt broken. He did a half-assed job of drying himself off before leaving the bathroom and collapsing into bed, only a towel secured around his hips.

His face was pressed into his pillow, and he tucked his arms beneath it and submerged himself even further into the soft fabric.

He recently switched detergent to whichever one you regularly used, and he just took in the familiar scent; anything to make him feel more at home without you actually being present...

George had no idea how long he was in that position for, but he fell asleep like that, only to wake to the sound of the phone ringing.

He got up and stumbled out of his room to ease the obnoxiously loud phone by picking up the call, shouting, and hanging up on whoever decided to phone at this hour-- whichever hour it was.

"Yeah," George rasped through the receiver, his tone laced with underlying irritation. He just wanted to be left alone in his sadness.

"George..."

"... Y/n?" He was rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the palm of his hand before you spoke, but your voice made him freeze.

"Oh Georgie..." your voice was breaking over the phone, and he could tell it wasn't the connection.

"Y/n, my Love, what's the matter?!"

"George he... He didn't show." George's heart stopped.

He didn't show.

George's grip closed tighter and tighter on the phone receiver, and he could feel the pure rage bubbling in his chest, and the plastic receiver crackling from the force under his fingers.

"Where are you?" He demanded. "I'm coming right now to get you," George was about to start throwing his shoes on, despite wearing absolutely nothing to start off with, his towel discarded and still on the bed from when he passed out.

"The same place you dropped me off."

God dammit, this fucking guy had you go to the other side of town just to be forgotten about.

It was finally settled: if George ever found out who this guy was, he'd kill him for doing this to you.

"Don't move. Be there in five." As soon as George hung up the phone, he took off to his room. He was ready in record time: under a minute. Up until the day he died, George wouldn't have been able to dress as quick as he did that night, and he never knew how he did it.

What really mattered was that George got to the other side of town in about five minutes, as he said over the phone.

George whipped into the parking lot and got out of the car. He hurried over to the front of the building to go in and search for you, but he caught a glimpse of you sitting at the curb as he grabbed the door handle.

His grip eased on the lockset, and he slowly turned to you. You were facing away from him, arms folded as you tried to shield yourself from the cool evening wind. You had no clue he was even behind you.

George sighed gently, shedding his jacket off and placing it on your shoulders without another word. He could see your whole body relax from the weighted piece of clothing, and he wondered if his scent was comforting for you too, as it was vice versa.

George heard you breathe out, but you sniffled afterwards. It broke his heart to see you like this. George looked around to see if anyone was watching, because if there was a chance this guy was cackling away in a parked car at the sight of you in tears, George would have had no problem kicking his headlights in and slashing his tires.

He dropped to the curb and sat down right next to you, not hesitating to circle his arm around your body.

At his touch, you curled yourself into a ball, and George scooped you up to squeeze you tight. And against his chest, when you knew you were safe from all harm, you gently sobbed.

George let you cry it all out, and the tighter you held onto him, the tighter he held onto you.

"Am I just unlovable George...? Is that it?" Your words were quiet and muffled, but George heard every syllable you mustered.

He pulled away from your embrace to look you in the eyes, and his grip on your arms were firm, but not tight. "Now Y/n, you do not for one second even think you're unlovable. That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard." His eyebrows were lowered in anger at the very idea of you feeling unloved.

Tears began to well up in your eyes, and George's expression softened. He reached his hand up to your face, and he could feel you shaking. He pursed his lips and furrowed his brow again.

George wished then more than ever that he was the one who was supposed to see you. He would have shown up.

"Y/n, you deserve so much better than this. If you were mine, I’d make sure sitting alone on the curb, stood up, would be the last place you'd ever find yourself, especially when you were so excited to go out..."

George didn't know where his little spurt of confidence came from, but he was more focused on the words he was choosing to use with you, and what he was all going to say.

"... If I were yours...?" You sniffled again, cheeks and the tip of your nose turning pink and George paused at the sudden realization.

You still had a chance to be his.

And all because that boy didn't show up, he still had time to figure out how he could pull it all off; but it had to be tonight.

He took a deep breath.

"I mean, anyone would be lucky to date you. I just... I sometimes wonder why you were never mine. Why you're not mine..." his voice lowered throughout the sentence, and the end of his confession was barely above a whisper.

You watched George for a moment, lips parted, as if you couldn't believe your ears, and the young man panicked a little, deciding to disregard his last words before it suddenly became the topic of discussion.

"Oh, my Love," George's eyes suddenly saddened as he reached out to wipe away your fresh tears and smeared makeup with his thumb. Your bottom lip trembled at the contact, and he sighed.

"Just because he didn't show up doesn't mean your evening has gone to waste." He stood up and turned to look down at you.

"The night is still young." He then held his hand out in front of you, and you looked at it for a moment as if you didn't know what he wanted from you.

"Y/n... give me one night. Let me show you how a man should always treat you."

He wasn't quite sure if he just unintentionally asked you on a real life date, or if you thought of all this as an act, but even if you didn't reciprocate his feelings, it gave George the chance of a lifetime to at least pretend you were his, even if this opportunity only lasted one night.

"Please."

You didn't move at first, but George was patient. You eventually slowly reached your hand out, and George helped you up, not making the effort to let go of you afterwards.

George looked up at the restaurant, and did a double take. "... You... you don't even like fancy places like this, am I wrong?"  All you could think about when looking at him was that he knew you so well.

"A place like this on a first date is a clear sign he'd leave halfway through and I'd be stuck with the bill." George smiled a little, and so did you.

You wiped your final stray tear from your cheek and George gave your other hand a squeeze. "... I'd rather get a burger and go for a walk, to be honest."

"Then that's what we'll do," George confirmed with a nod. It was settled, then.

George and you strolled to the car, still hand-in-hand, and he courteously opened your door to help you in. He ran over to the other side afterwards and climbed in behind the wheel before pulling out and taking off to find somewhere for you both to eat.

You both came across this quiet burger place downtown, and the both of you were able to get a booth in the back for privacy so you could both scarf down your meals in peace.

George ordered the same food you did, and you both settled on sharing a milkshake together (a single milkshake eventually became two).

"God," you looked around the nearly empty joint before turning your gaze back to George. "Do you know how much more comfortable I feel in here?"

"Even when you're dressed like you belong in a dress shop window?" George smiled around his straw and you matched his grin. "Shut up. At least my hair is brushed out."

The poor guy had no clue until now that he forgot to comb his hair out after his depression shower, embarrassingly clawing his fingers through his locks to at least tidy up the mess on his head.

You just laughed out that you were teasing him, and the joyous hiccups from your laughter had George briefly forgetting everything negative that had happened so far that night.

After settling down a little, your food was brought out and you both started eating.

There wasn't much for the both of you to talk about other than the part of your day when you weren't together, and it wasn't like George wanted to mention what happened to him in the last two hours or make you upset by talking about your night.

Instead you both settled on joking about old times. Before the both of you knew it, George had you giggling and smiling once again before your dessert even came, and when the waitress came around to your table with your two-person cookie skillet, you grinned even wider.

You thanked the waitress before she went on her way, and you looked up across the treat to George, whom you were half expecting to be drooling over the cookie. Instead, he was in a dream-like trance, soft gaze fixed on you, and only you. You weren't too sure if he even knew the skillet was in front of him, he was so distracted.

"George...?" You called to him gently as to not frighten him when coming back down to reality. His response was almost immediate, like he could hear you.

And maybe he did.

"... I'm sorry, I don't know how many times I've tried to say this already tonight but have chickened out, but you look just..." George was examining every inch of you that he could see and you blushed, casting your eyes down to the table.

"Angel, look at me." George reached over the table and rested his hand over yours. You lifted your head to look him in the eye, and he hesitated for a moment. Your full attention flustered him, then again it always did, but he took a deep breath.

"You look heavenly, Y/n."

You said nothing. This time, he had you speechless, but nothing wasn't the response he was looking for.

"Dontcha believe me...?" His question echoed through your brain, and you blinked. George scanned your eyes after giving your hand a squeeze. He knew you had something to say, and he was at the edge of his seat in anticipation for your words.

"... Do you really think so?"

"Are you kidding me?! Y/n, I... when you came out of your room tonight I just... looking at you right now, I'm at a loss for words. Heavenly doesn't even scratch the surface. No word exists that perfectly describes how you look to me. Now, or ever."

There was yet another spurt of confidence that washed over George. He had a feeling his words and actions were getting the both of you somewhere, especially when his final sentence had you blushing the way you were.

At least he knew he was doing something right.

George's grip on your hand tightened a little, and he flipped your hands over so your palm was face-up in his. He brought your hand closer to him, and he kissed your fingertips before leaving a final one at the centre of your palm. His eyes never left your red face as he did this, and he grinned against your hand when you offered him a shy smile.

Oh... she IS actually liking this.

When he pulled away, George looked down at the still-untouched dessert, and he smiled, releasing another nervous breath he was holding as he finally let go of your hand. "Let's finish up so we can go on our walk. Sound good, my Love?"

You only nodded before digging in with him, every nudge of his hand against yours reducing you to a blushing mess, and George, who was gaining more confidence as every second passed, would just smile to himself knowing he was successfully turning the tables on you.

But it wasn't yet the time to give in and confess, as much as George wanted to. He still had a nice long walk to woo you on, and then he had to do the important step of walking you to your apartment door at the end of the night, and God knows that was the part he was dying to get to.

You finished your dessert not long after and George payed the bill. After helping you out of the booth, you'd left hand-in-hand again.

The both of you stepped out into the cool night and you looked up at George. "Are you cold? Did you want your jacket back?"

You were holding it in your other hand since you'd taken it off at dinner, and you shoved it in his direction without another word.

He laughed and took the jacket from you, unfolding it and pulling it back around your shoulders before rubbing his hands up and down your arms to keep you warm.

"You'll catch a cold without it. Besides, you look better in it anyways." He leaned in and kissed your cheek, smiling proudly to himself when he pulled away and continued to lead you to the car, deciding it'd be smoother to not turn around and gauge for a reaction from you.

Like before, George courteously opened the car door for you, and closed it when you were in. Their destination was his place. It wasn't for the reason one would think, but the idea of driving you to his home and inviting you in with every intention of walking right past the kettle made George's legs restless.

In reality there was a park down the road from his flat that cut pretty much directly to your own humble abode. You'd walked the trail hundreds of times together to look at the pretty flowers growing in the garden, but something told George that this time, like everything else happening that day, was going to be very different.

When you pulled up to his building he raced you to get to your door for the second time of the night; the first being at the burger place when you first arrived. He took your hand and helped you out of the car, and he didn't let go, even after locking the doors to his car and leading you both down the road.

There was a silence that fell between the both of you. It wasn't bad. You took this time to think about your night, as did George. With every step down the road and into the park you took, the smile on your face only grew wider. As for George, he began to sweat with every step he took.

Every foot forward led him closer and closer to your door, where he was going to finally let everything off his chest and confess to you. The problem was that George's confidence was quickly draining, and this was something he needed to do.

He eventually let go of your hand to wipe his palms off on his pant leg, and at the immediate loss of contact, you were turning to him with a confused look on your face.

"Sorry uh..." he breathed out slowly, cheeks dusted pink. "I-I don't know why, but I'm kinda nervous."

Your look of confusion faded into an unreadable one. "Was it holding my hand?"

George shook his head. "No no, not that, I want to hold your hand."

"So what's the problem?"

He just shook his head again. "Maybe it's just... the stress of making sure tonight is perfect for you."

"What?!" Your reaction was sudden, and George's eyebrows were raised high up on his forehead at your exclamation.

"George, tonight has already been perfect for me! I had a great meal, I'm on a lovely walk with you..." you reached out to take his hand again, and he lifted his gaze from his shoes to look you in the eye. You smiled up at him from under the streetlight, and George smiled back a little.

"Georgie, I would never have asked for a better night." You squeezed his fingers with yours and tugged him forward gently. "C'mon, Magpie. Let's get home. It'll be cooling down soon, and I don't want you walking outside much longer than needed tonight."

George followed behind, but you still took your time coming home since the both of you got caught up in another conversation. This time, it was about the flowers you were passing in the park.

"... I used to water those for you, y'know." He pointed to a cluster of marigolds. To think that was ten years earlier and they still stayed put, growing outwards and stronger than ever.

"I used to check on them every day to make sure they weren't dying. You told me one time you really liked those flowers and I just..." he smiled a little at the memory. "I just couldn't get enough of your smile every time you saw them."

You turned to look up at him. You had absolutely no clue he did that for you. It made you love the flowers even more, and your heart jumped a little when you realized that the marigolds were the very reason George insisted you both took the trail all the tine.

"I'll still come across them when passing flower shops. I always think of you when I see them."

"Wow. George, I... I never knew you paid that much attention to me."

"Why wouldn't I? You're my best friend."

And George didn't say anything after that, especially when you didn't respond to his last comment, which he didn't even mean to say.

By the time George could think up a sentence to save himself from friend-zoning the both of you right then and there, he felt like he'd left it for too long.

His heart was sinking, and he tried to shake off the comment best he could, and walked you the rest of the way home.

His stomach was in a knot as he looked up at your apartment building. The front door to the lobby looked intimidating, and his palms began to sweat again. You slipped your hand out of George's, and it distracted him from his racing thoughts.

"You think I'm gonna just leave you here?" His question was sudden, and you blinked once.

"I'm sorry?" You looked from George, to the apartment door which was ten feet away from the both of you. "But George, I'm home?"

"I have to walk you to your door." You laughed at his response, head thrown back as you sighed. "You mean to tell me you, George Harrison, are gonna walk up five flights of stairs in the next two minutes just to make sure you can hear me lock my door and know I'm safe?"

"Would it be a real date if I didn't?"

There was another beat of silence as George watched your eyes shift from left to right in thought. You pursed your lips a little, and then looked him in the eye.

"... Suppose it wouldn't be then, no."

"Then may I walk you to your door, Y/n?"

You finally answered him with a simple nod of your head, and George reached out to take your hand again. He wordlessly led you to the door which he opened for you, and then brought you to the flight of stairs. Nowhere else to go but up.

In about two minutes, you and George got to the fifth floor. As soon as he entered the hall, it felt like the walls were slowly closing together as you both took quiet, careful steps towards the end of the way.

The entire time, your hands were glued together, and no one let go, even when you were both finally stopped, and standing in front of your door.

"I'm sorry about tonight, Y/n. I know you were saying earlier tonight turned out perfect and everything but..." George's brain was still on that platonic comment he made on the walk.

"George, there is no one I would have rather spent tonight with than you. No one."

George squeezed your hand, and then sighed. "I just wish tonight happened under different circumstances."

"Different circumstances?" You repeated a little confused, and the boy in front of you pursed his lips and nodded his head.

Deep breaths. Here it goes.

"Y/n, ever since I found out about this date, my blood has just been boiling with jealousy for that boy. Hell, I still don't even know his name and I could tell you he isn't good for you."

You looked taken aback. Jealousy was definitely not where you thought he was going with all of this.

"I fell in love with you, Y/n. Years ago. And because I feared rejection, I didn't want to take my chances and say anything. But the truth of the matter is that I'd be the happiest person alive just to be able to love you openly. I can't stand to see you cry the way he made you tonight."

Again, you stood there, no words coming to mind to respond with. Your silence didn't make George stop.

"To think for years my feelings for you haven't gone away. I've always thought you felt the same, yet you were never mine." George paused. "When can this boy get you back again, Y/n?"

There was a long silence, his eyes searching yours for your answer, and you were staring up at him like a deer in headlights.

"I-- if I'd known-- I never thought-- George, I had no clue." He could see the lost look on your face, and it made his heart ache, especially when your lip began to tremble and your eyes started filling to the brim with tears.

"Why do you think I turned down every guy who's tried to get with me? I just... I never thought you'd love me back, Georgie." His emotions sank into a deep dark guilt. All this time, and you felt the same way about him...

And then he blinked.

You feel the same way about him!

George reached out to you, his hand cupping the side of your face and stroking your cheek with his thumb. Your tears began to fall, and he pulled you into his chest tightly for a moment. "My Love," he mumbled, pulling away just far enough for him to see your face again.

"Oh, even when you're crying, you are the most beautiful thing I've ever set eyes on..." There was a beat of nothing; just the sound of shallow breaths shared between the both of you before George began to inch in slowly towards you.

"... George, what are you doing...?" Your question was gentle, and you didn't stop him from coming any closer. You didn't want to stop him.

"Something I should've done a long time ago."

His attention fixated to your mouth once before your lips finally clashed together.

For over a decade, George had waited for the moment he tasted your lips; and now that it was here, he was almost scared he wouldn't know what to do.

The both of you were holding your breath since you both felt a little unsure at first, but it was a given, he was kissing his childhood best friend, and you were, too. You kissed back a little, and George exhaled lightly through his nose, a little relieved knowing you were getting a little more comfortable with the situation.

George's hands fell to your waist, fingers curling around your body as he eventually pulled you even closer. You parted your lips a little, and he bit down on your bottom lip, pulling away after hearing you gasp.

"Oh! Did I hurt you? I'm--" George could barely rush an apology out before you pulled him down to kiss him again, and pushing him backwards until his back was flat against your door. He watched as you closed the space between you again, and your lips were on his again.

His heart was pounding, ears ringing loudly as you slipped your tongue into his mouth, and all the boy could remember thinking about was how blissful it all was in that moment. George threw his arms around you and started pushing back just a little.

You pulled away from him to gasp in a breath, George's hands grabbing your arms and pinning you against your door so he could put you in the place he was moments before; to give you the moment to experience just a fraction of all the love he would be able to eventually give to you.

His lips briefly found the crook of your neck and you moaned quietly as George sucked at your skin a little, which only resulted in him pulling away just to lean back in to kiss your lips and swallow your pleasant hums.

You eventually pulled away to face him again, lips swelled and pink, and breaths quick. You never thought you'd have so much trouble breathing while kissing someone.

Then again, it's not everyday that the man you're kissing is George Harrison.

"I know it's rare to ask this on a first date but..." George leaned down to attach his lips to the column of your throat, and he hummed against your skin when you moaned gently, delaying your question for a moment.

"... Did you maybe wanna, I don't know, come in, stick around for some tea?"

"Is that even a question?" George asked lowly against your neck, and you smiled. You reached into your purse to retrieve your apartment keys, which you blindly stuck into the keyhole since George was back to kissing you again, and the both of you stumbled through the door as soon as you got it open.

You and George kicked your shoes off after shutting the door, and you pushed him up against the wall in the front corridor to kiss him once again.

Ten years was way too long for the both of you to be deprived of one another any further, and George gladly let you migrate your lips to his neck after a moment, tilting his head back for you to make things a little easier.

With your head buried into his neck and your arms circled around one another, George lazily opened this eyes to watch himself in that same mirror across the hall he looked into a few hours prior.

All the boy could do was smile to himself, breathing heavily as he watched your reflection switch to the other side of his neck after leaving a mark on the right side of his throat.

Not only was his reflection successful in this date tonight, but George himself pulled off the biggest risk he could imagine and it paid off.

He finally got the girl of his dreams.

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

A/A/N: honestly, this fic lives rent free in my head and it has been since I wrote it, so I gotta show it off to y'all. Again, I know it was long, but I really hope you enjoy it <3

PERMENANT TAG LIST

@culturefiendtrashqueen​

@rogermeddow

(message me if you want to be added to any of my oneshot/queen/beatles/chapter taglists)

[another-tmnt-writer]

Truth or Dare?

Raphael x Reader

Author: Admin Mo

Summary: When Mikey needs another actor for his film project, Raph gets roped into it. He didn’t, however, expect for his costar to be so cool.

Note: There are not NEARLY enough college au fics for the bayverse boys, so have this as my first contribution. <3

Warnings: Swears, mentions of drinking, plenty of fluff

Word Count: 3.9k

“Raph, PLEEEEEAAAASE!!!” Mikey folded his hands together, pleading. “We need actors for our project and our group members can’t be in it.”

Mikey, as part of his endeavor to explore every creative program at the university the turtles were currently attending, was taking a filmmaking class. And, as a part of that class, he and his fellow classmates were required to make short projects in order to learn the basics of filmmaking, from writing to directing to using the equipment to editing. As an added bonus because his professor was so especially cruel, none of the people in his group could appear in his project, and while they had managed to recruit some of their classmates to fill in the smaller roles, one of the main roles was still unclaimed.

Raph scoffed. “Mikey, you know I can’t act for shit.”

“You don’t have to actually be good at it!” He pleaded. “You should see some of the other projects. No one in the program is good at acting.”

Raph was quiet for a second, his large arms crossed in front of him, thinking. “How long is it gonna take?”

“Few hours.” Mikey shrugged. He raised an eyebrow. “And your costar is really, really hot.”

Raph sighed, disgruntled. “When?”

“YES! DUDE THANK YOU SO MUCH! YOU WON��T REGRET IT!” Mikey ran and returned with a script and a schedule, shoving it into his older brother’s hands. “We film tomorrow!”

Raph’s eyes widened. “TOMORROW?!”

***

Raph went with Mikey to where the rest of his group was meeting to film their project. He hadn’t really had time to look at the script and Mikey assured him that they’d be filming in small enough chunks that he wouldn’t need to have very much memorized at a time. He also didn’t really know what kind of movie it was and he didn’t care; he just couldn’t wait until it was over.

A few minutes after they arrived, so did his costar. And god, he couldn’t stop staring. Mikey was right. God, why was Mikey always right?

“I am so sorry I’m late. The bus almost hit a pedestrian and it was a whole thing.” You apologized.

“Don’t worry about it!” Mikey waved off your concern. “This is my brother, Raph.”

“Nice to meet you, Raph. I’m (Y/N).” You introduced, a warm smile on your face.

Raph didn’t miss the way your eyes lingered on him, but instead of the looks disdain he usually got, instead it seemed to be curiosity. Awe, even? Weird, he decided, but not unwelcome.

It was a long, awkward moment before he realized he’d better respond. “Oh, uh, nice to meet you too.”

“Um, you guys can get to know each other a little better. We’ve gotta get the equipment set up.” Mikey said, leaving the two of you on your own.

The filming location was a place you were very familiar with: the library. Particularly, in front of the cozy little coffee shop in the library.

“I didn’t really, uh, look at the script, but I’m guessing they needed a monster for a horror movie or something…” Raph flipped through the pages, skimming.

“It’s a rom com.” You corrected quietly. “I’m the main character. You’re the love interest.”

If Raph could physically blush, he was sure his cheeks would rival the color of his mask. “…Oh.”

“Is that alright?” You asked.

“Oh! Yeah, yeah it’s fine, I just…” He chuckled to himself. “I ain’t ever acted in anything before, let alone anything romantic.”

“It’s not too much, I don’t think.” You reassured him. “I’m pretty sure the most they’ll have us do is awkwardly brush hands. It’s a coffee shop meet-cute.”

“Gotcha.” And while he was relieved, he was also a little…disappointed? Huh. Weird. “So, uh, what’s yer major?”

“I’m a film major. I’m in Mikey’s class and they needed actors, so I’m paying it forward in case I need someone in my project. What’s yours?”

“I’m undecided. Just, uh, taking some time to figure things out, you know. I never really had any…school experience before this.”

“That’s a lot to adjust to.”

“Yeah, it is. I’m getting used to it, though.”

“That’s good! If you need any help with anything, let me know. I’ve picked up a bunch of good tips and tricks.”

He chuckled. “I will, thanks.”

“Do you have snapchat?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“One second.” You fished your phone out of your bag and unlocked it, opening the app to your snapcode, which he scanned and added you. “There you go.”

“Thanks.”

“Of course.”

Raph took some more time reading over the script to get the gist of the scene and you were right. Indeed, it was a rom com. Not his preferred genre, by any means, but maybe he’d warm up to it a bit over the course of the day.

“Hey (Y/N)?” Mikey called from over where they had the camera set up on the tripod. “Do you know how to white-balance this thing? Everything is orange for some reason. Which is a great color, but I’m sure Smith will dock us points for it.”

“Oh, I’ve got you.” You nodded. You looked up at Raph, your purse in hand. “Will you hold this for a second?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” He nodded, holding out a giant three-fingered hand to take the bag from you. He watched you walk over to where the rest of the group was standing, crowded around the camera. You worked your magic, shuffling through the menu and helping adjust the camera correctly. Raph couldn’t stop staring. You looked so focused. So passionate. He could tell you really liked film and everything it entailed and he wished he could just find something he cared about as much as you cared about your major.

“Awesome.” He heard Mikey say, his eyes fixed on the camera’s screen. “Thanks!”

“Of course!” You walked back over to where Raph was and he handed you your bag back. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem.” He opened his mouth to say something else, but Mikey walked over to the two of you.

“You guys ready? I think we’re good to start now.”

“All set.” You confirmed, giving him a thumbs-up, and Raph nodded.

***

Raph might have to reconsider his stance on this acting thing. Did he think he was all that good at it? No. But so long as he had you as a costar, he’d act willingly in any project Mikey (or you) needed him for. And at the end of the shoot, he ended up having a really good time. So much so that when you guys were all done, he was…sad. Like, really sad about it.

You parted ways. You weren’t in any of his classes, so Raph wasn’t really sure if he’d see you around that much. And he didn’t see you around…until a few weeks later.

He was at the library studying with his brothers at their favorite table when suddenly, his phone buzzed, a message from snapchat coming in. He looked at the notification, doing a double-take when he read your name there. And when he reached to answer it, he moved too fast and knocked his shell-shaped cell phone off of the table.

Shit.

He bent down to pick it up and when he opened the snapchat, he was surprised to see…the back of his shell? It was captioned: “I spy with my little eye…Something red and green 😉”

Immediately, he whipped around, and sure enough, nestled in a table by the windows was you, looking at him over the top of your laptop screen. You giggled when he spotted you, waving.

Raph nudged Mikey, who was sitting across from him and Mikey traced Raph’s eyeline to where you were, his face immediately lighting up.

“Oh! Hey (Y/N)!” Mikey waved. “You wanna sit with us?”

“Is that alright?”

“Hell yeah!” Mikey motioned you over. “The more the merrier! We can pull up a chair over here on the end.”

So, you gathered your stuff while the guys rearranged some things, putting you on the end of the table, right between Mikey and Raph. When you got over there, you noticed they were sitting with the other two giant mutated turtles on campus, who you had heard of, but hadn’t met yet.

“(Y/N), these are our brothers. Leo’s over there in the blue, our fearless leader. And this is Donatello, the one we go to for homework help.”

“Not tonight you aren’t. This paper is due at midnight and it is…” Donnie glanced down at the clock on his laptop and as soon as he did, he started typing impossibly faster. “Eleven thirty-seven. Do not look at me or breathe in my direction.”

“Noted.” Mikey nodded, a trace of fear in his eyes.

“Nice to meet you, (Y/N). You’re in one of Mikey’s classes, right?”

“Yep! I’m in his film class.” You smiled, taking a sip of your iced coffee. “I got the pleasure of costarring with this one.” You nudged Raph lightly, causing him to smile the most genuine smile Mikey had ever seen on his older brother’s face.

Huh. Mikey took note, something devious stirring in the back of his mind. Interesting…

“What did you get on that, by the way?” You asked.

“We got an A! Well, Minus. But you know how Smith is.”

“Dude that’s awesome!” You bumped your fist against his. “Good job. I’m pretty sure my group got a B, but we’re not mad about it. C’s get degrees, as they say.”

“Cheers to that.” Leo chuckled.

“What are you working on today, Raph?” You asked, tilting your head in a way that sent his heart racing in a way he could not explain.

“I have a paper for my Writing 150 class.”

“Oof that sucks. Who do you have?”

“Trainor.”

“Ouch. She hated me.” You grimaced, shaking your head. “She found out I was bi and it was all over for me.”

“Did you report her? I’m pretty sure you can report her for that sort of thing.” Raph asked, trying not to get heated over it. He was pretty sure she didn’t like him very much either, but it was probably due to the fact that he was a giant green turtle. “That’s bullshit.”

“I’m in the process of that right now.” You nodded. “She’s a bitch. I don’t know if they’ll actually do anything about it though.”

“Keep me posted. I might file something too if she doesn’t stop glaring at me during class.” Raph grumbled. “It’s annoying.”

“That would be annoying. Her beady little eyes glaring at you for two agonizing hours of ‘This is how to correctly use a comma’.”

He chuckled. “Yeah. It is.”

You glanced at your phone, which buzzed with a text from one of your roommates. “Oh! Uh, do you guys have any plans this weekend?”

“Nope. Why?” Mikey asked, curiosity seeping into his voice.

“My roommate is throwing a party, if you guys wanna come. It’ll be pretty chill. Drinks, pizza, some music.”

“Oh hell yes.” Mikey nodded. He looked at Leo. “Leo, can we?”

“I don’t see why not.” Leo shrugged. “Sounds like a good time.”

“Is there a dress code?” Mikey asked. Now that he was finally allowed to socialize, he didn’t want to fuck it up.

“Nope. Just casual. Come as you are.”

“Do you need us to bring anything?”

“If you guys have a drink of choice, bring that, I guess, but otherwise, my roommate’s boyfriend works at a pizza place, so we get a pretty good discount and we have literally so much wine.”

“That’s amazing.” Mikey nodded, making a mental note to look into jobs at a pizza place later.

“We’ll bring a veggie tray.” Donnie said, his fingers flying across the keyboard of his laptop until finally, he stopped. “I finished, by the way.”

“Good job, dude!” Mikey gave him a thumbs up. “You wanna write mine next?”

“Ha.” Donnie stared at him. “Funny.”

“What’s your paper on, Raph? Maybe I can help.”

Raph turned his laptop towards you. “We have to write it about like growing up. You can, uh, read it if you want. I don’t mind. I’m kinda stuck right now anyway.”

“Okay.” You agreed, switching his laptop for yours. You winked. “Trade ya.”

“What are you writing about?” He asked, scrolling to the top of your document.

“Women in Film.” You shot finger guns at him. “I’m about to make some Film Bois REALLLL mad.”

“Roast ‘em, (Y/N).” Mikey laughed, knowing all too well exactly which film boys you were talking about. He was not a fan.

“That’s the plan.” You chuckled and then started reading over Raph’s paper. You had known before meeting them that they hadn’t exactly had the best childhood, but…wow was it eye-opening reading the experience from his eyes. “Holy shit.”

“That bad?” He joked, trying to read your expression.

“No, it’s…Raph, this is really good, but wow. You guys went through a lot, huh?”

“Yeah…” He shrugged. “It wasn’t all bad, but it sure wasn’t normal by any means.”

“Mmm…” You nodded, looking up at him. “I mean, normal is kinda overrated.”

He chuckled. “I’m glad ya think so. Not many people do.”

You shrugged, smiling softly. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m not like many people.”

***

“(Y/N), this place is as clean as it’s gonna get. It’s a party. It’ll be messed up in,” your roommate, Haley, glanced down at her watch, “like twenty minutes.”

“I know, I just…I’m nervous. These guys are basically superheroes. I want to make a good impression.”

“Fair point.”

You swept the kitchen floor and got out the cutest paper plates you had in the cupboard as well as some solo cups and plastic wine glasses. If you could avoid broken glass today, that was probably the move.

The doorbell buzzed and your heart raced, but it was just your other roommate’s boyfriend with the pizza.

“Is Darcy here?” He asked.

“She’s upstairs getting ready, you explained, helping him get the pizza and breadsticks and everything set up on the counter. He’d also brought a few two-liters of Pepsi, which was good. You put it next to the giant jug of fruit punch you’d bought at the grocery store. It was important to make sure your non-drinking friends had something to drink, too.

A few minutes after, guests started arriving. Darcy came downstairs and started up her iconic party playlist. Your neighbors popped in. It was easier to invite them and let them have a good time with you than have them call security on you guys for throwing a party, even if it was the weekend and it was only nine.

You turned off the lamps in the living room and instead set your strip lights to party mode, causing them to cycle through a bunch of colors in time with the music. It was then that the doorbell rang again and you rushed to the mirror to check yourself once more. You adjusted your hair, straightened out your top, and checked your teeth for food. Nope, you were good.

So, with the rest of the hosts distracted, you opened the door. On the other side of it were four tall, green gentlemen, one of them carrying a veggie tray.

“Hey guys, come on in!”

You moved out of the way so they could step inside.

Mikey’s eyes widened, looking into the living room full of dancing college kids. “Woahhhhh this is awesome!”

“Glad you think so.” You laughed. “There’s food and drinks in here, the bathroom is in the hallway, and everyone else seems to be either in the living room or the back yard.”

“Where do you want this veggie tray?” Donnie asked.

“Thank you so much for bringing this, by the way! You can set it over by the pizza boxes. I can get a spoon for the dip.” You said, walking towards the silverware drawer and producing a spoon while Donnie popped the lid off of the plastic serving tray and opened up the dip. You handed him the spoon.

The guys were each sporting their signature color, but they were wearing clothes you hadn’t seen them in before. Usually, Raph liked to wear a large gray hoodie, but today, he was sporting a black t-shirt and an impossibly large red flannel with some jeans. It looked good on him. Like, really good.

Apparently, he was thinking the same thing, because as soon as you were free, he walked up to you and nudged you gently. “You look really good.”

Your cheeks flushed with warmth and you wished you could blame it on wine, but you hadn’t even had a sip yet. “Thanks. You clean up pretty nice yourself.”

Had you worn a red top on purpose? Yes, absolutely. Would you admit to it, though? No, definitely not.

But Mikey noticed. Oh, Mikey noticed everything. And he couldn’t help but think that you and his older brother would make quite the couple. Maybe there was something he could do to just…give it a little push.

***

The time came later, when the party was finally starting to wind down. Some people had left. Your neighbors had gone home, and you’d switched the strip lights to a light, warm color. You’d also switched the upbeat party playlist for something chill to play in the background. The remaining partygoers were all settled in a circle in the living room, eating whatever pizza was left, sipping on box wine, and playing a game of truth or dare.

“Haley, truth or dare?” Darcy challenged.

“Truth.”

“Okay…Fuck, Marry, Kill: Chris Evans, Chris Hemsworth and…..Chris Pine.”

“DAMN.” She cursed. “You can’t do that to me. Shit. Uh…Fuck Chris…Hemsworth. Marry Chris…Pine? And—”

“Don’t you do it!” You warned.

“Kill Chris Evans.”

“Noooooooooo!” You whined, taking a sip of your drink. The rest of the group laughed. “Poor Captain America.”

“Rest in pieces, Cap.” She agreed, shaking her head. “Okay…Mikey, truth or dare.”

“Dare.” Mikey answered quickly. He always picked dare, so in the fifth round of the game, it wasn’t much of a surprise.

“I dare you…to take a shot of straight lemon juice.”

“Easy peasy.” Mikey scoffed, pouring himself a shot and downing it.

You watched as his face contorted at the sour, sour taste. You couldn’t help but giggle a little at that.

“Good job, Mikey.” Donnie laughed, dipping a piece of broccoli in dip before popping it into his mouth.

“Taking it like a champ.” Leo added, nodding.

“Alright, my turn?” Mikey asked, looking around the circle for his victim, pretending he hadn’t been planning this since round one. “(Y/N). Truth or dare?”

You thought about it for a second. How easy it would be to just choose truth again, but for some reason, you were feeling a little brave, so instead, you picked, “Dare.”

“Oooooooh,” the circle said, all of them a little surprised by that choice.

“Okay. Alright.” Mikey rubbed his hands together mischievously. All according to plan. “I dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room.”

“OOOOOOOHHHH!” The circle all stared at you and you thought for a second, a smirk settling on your features.

“Oh that’s easy.” You got up and crossed the circle until you were standing in front of Raph. Even sitting down, he was almost your height. “Think I could get a kiss?”

Raph stared up at you, shocked, waiting for you to say Sike! HAHA! Did you actually think I thought you were hot?! Loser!

But you never did, instead looking down at him with sincerity, patience. Were you a little…nervous, even?

“Why me?” He whispered, his eyes fixed on you. There were plenty of good-looking human guys still there, and yet you were certain. Unwavering. Then, louder, he asked, his heart absolutely fighting to get out of his chest, “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” You nodded, starting to lean closer. Once you were most of the way in, you let him meet you in the middle, your soft human lips meeting his, which were, you had to admit, way softer than you thought they would be.

Raphael kissed you like you were made of glass, like if he moved too fast, you would shatter. It was his first kiss, after all, and he didn’t want to fuck it up.

When it finally ended, you walked back to your seat in the circle, your cheeks rosy, heart racing. Haley gave you a nudge and you giggled, your stomach filled with butterflies. The rest of the game went along with little fanfare, and once everyone was tired enough, the apartment cleared out even more, leaving just your roommates, Darcy’s boyfriend, and the turtles, who insisted on helping clean everything up. Well, it had been Leo’s idea, but the rest had agreed to stick around to help.

You volunteered to go out into the backyard to pick up all of the stray solo cups and White Claw cans. You hated litter. You worked out there alone for a bit. As you bent down to pick up the last can you heard the signature screech of the sliding door opening.

Raph squeezed through the narrow doorway, cursing his shell for making him so damn wide.

“Hey,” you said softly, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. Your voice was almost swallowed up by the sounds of the choir of crickets outside.

“Hey.” He closed the sliding door. “Can we talk?”

“Yeah, of course.” You nodded, tying off the trash bag you were using to collect garbage. “How was your first college party?”

“It was great. Really, really great.” He said, taking slow steps through the grass towards you. “Um…I…did you mean what you said? Earlier.”

“What do you mean?”

“When you…was I really…” he laughed at the absurdity of it. “You think I’m hot?”

“I do.” You nodded. “Of course I do.”

“I’m sorry if I find that a little hard to believe.” He shook his head, stopping right in front of you. When he was standing in front of you like this, he was remined of just how big he was compared to you, just how much he towered over you. Just how different you were. “I’m just used to the opposite reaction.”

“Believe it.” You reached forward and took his hand in yours, gripping one of his giant green fingers.

“I’m trying to.” He chuckled and fiddled with your little hand, nervous. “You know, uh…that was my first kiss in there. I wasn’t too awful, was I?”

“I didn’t mean to steal your first one.” You laughed softly. “Sorry. But to answer your question, I thought it was perfect.”

“That’s a relief.” He was quiet for a moment, thinking. “Uh…If it’s alright with ya…I’d like to give you my second kiss, too.”

Instead of answering, you took another step closer, looking up, up, up into his piercing green eyes. “You’re gonna have to come down here; I can’t reach.”

He laughed. “Right.” Raph craned his neck down, one of his large hands tilting your face up towards his so he could meet you in the middle for another perfect kiss.

***

“What are you doing?” Leo asked Mikey, who was peering through the blinds into the back yard of the apartment.

Mikey only grinned proudly, nodding to himself. “Works every time…”

[lumosandnoxwriting]

Forever Just Isn’t Enough - George Weasley

Title: Forever Just Isn’t Enough Pairing: George x Fem!Reader Warnings: NSFW!! Fingering, female receiving oral, unprotected sex, dirty talk, cockwarming, feeling full kink ?? again idk if that’s a real thing but oh well Extra Warnings: major character death!! Minor character death. Slightly alcoholism, unhealthy coping mechanisms, grief and dealing with grief, one comment that could allude to suicide, mentions of death and infant loss, mentions of blood and blood loss. Mentions of injuries. Mentions of childbirth. Summary: just when things seem like they can finally fall into place, everything nearly falls apart. Will George and Y/N really get their forever? Or will their dreams crumble around them? A/N: summary is shit but here it is! Here is its, the mammoth that is good girl part 3!! This fic has been nearly a month in the making and it is officially the longest thing I’ve ever written!! It’s 23k words so buckle up! This really is the final part, and I have definitely become attached to this universe. Everything in italics is flashbacks!! I would like to give a huge thanks to @pineapplesandpinas who left a reply on one of my posts that actually inspired this fic! I’d also like to give a huge thanks to the person who gave me some editing help and is coincidentally the person who requested this in the first place, I hope you like it!! As always feedback is welcome! Tags: @feltondarling @pandaxnienke @raerae27 @allforthexgame @pigwidgexn @hufflrpuffforfred @wand3ringr0s3 @whiz-bangs78 @gcdric @starlightweasley @vogueweasley @theweasleysredhair @dracoswhore007 @lexymoniqu​ @amourtentiaa​ @mischiefisbeingmanaged​ Read Part 1 here, Read Part 2 here

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Y/N’s chest heaves with deep breathes as she runs down a corridor, watching walls crumble as they get hit with stray curses. She used to be able to walk through Hogwarts with her eyes closed and know exactly where she was in any given moment. But now her heart hammers in her chest as she stands at the junction of two different hallways, unsure of where they’ll lead her. Y/N can hear footsteps barreling towards her, and in a moment of panic she heads to the left, gripping her wand tightly in her hand.

Her legs carry her as fast as they can down the hallway as she silently prays to find someone she knows. By the time she clambered into the room of requirement from the passageway that starts at the Hogs Head Inn preparations for the impending battle were already in full swing and the Order was spread out around the entire castle. Y/N had caught a flash of red hair as she helped Cho Chang cast a protection spell, but by the time she turned her head it was already gone. Death Eaters reached the castle nearly 30 minutes ago, and Y/N has been on her own the entire time, casting curses and spells at them as she searched for Ginny or Hermione. For George. She’s already seen a few bodies lying still on the floor, and her heart is in her stomach with the thought that George could be one of them. Laying lifeless in some hallway all by himself.

Y/N starts to slow down as a wall approaches and she can hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears. A dead end. The footsteps behind her persist, and she has no choice but to stop as she reaches the end of the hallway, turning around to face her fate. She raises her wand as she looks at the person coming up towards her, but it falters slightly as a familiar face stops just a few feet away. “Adrian?”

Adrian grins as he takes a few steps closer to Y/N, but it’s not the same fond smile he’d shared with her many times. It’s wicked, evil almost and Y/N tries to swallow the lump that’s suddenly formed in her throat as memories of the last time she’d seen Adrian come swirling to the forefront of her mind.

Y/N turns around when she feels a tap on her shoulder, a wide smile on her face. Seven years of hard work has all lead to this: graduation day. She feels absolutely euphoric, and when she turns around and spots Adrian she pulls him into a hug – too excited to second guess herself. It’s the first time they’ve hugged in nearly half a year and while it feels familiar, it’s mostly awkward.

After the conversation Y/N and George had on the train ride back to school from winter break Y/N really made a conscious effort to start a new life with George. The way they had been operating as a couple was only leading them towards disaster, and they were both willing to do anything to avoid that possibility.

The main change they made together was to spend more time together as a couple that didn’t involve getting rid of their clothes. Instead of sitting with each other’s friends during meals all the time, they decided to sit on their own a few times a week so they would get a chance to just talk to each other and reconnect after a crazy day. Y/N started to spend the night over in George’s dorm with him, and while they did have sex most of the time, they took the time to just lay there and hold each other too. While Y/N was busy doing her homework in the library George would just sit there with her, sometimes working on stuff for the joke shop, but sometimes just sitting there and watching her work.

But by far the biggest change was one that rested in Y/N’s hands alone, she needed to set new boundaries with Adrian. Her friends had become her security blanket over the years, their friendship began on that first train ride to Hogwarts, when they were all nervous and scared. She relied on them heavily to be her emotional support, and when George came into her life Y/N made no efforts to change any of that. Y/N had thought George could just slip into their friend group as if he had always been there, but it quickly became clear that wasn’t the case.

Her relationship with Adrian was definitely the biggest point of contention in her and George’s relationship, and was thus the one thing that really changed. It was common for her and Adrian to be physically affectionate towards each other. An arm around the shoulders, a tight hug after a long day, even the occasional hand holding. Y/N hadn’t realized how that might hurt George, and so she put a stop to it immediately. On the occasions where she did sit with her friends at meals she stuck by Daphne’s side, instead of falling into her usual seat next to Adrian. She stopped wearing his Quidditch jumpers to their matches and she made sure to quiet his flirtatious comments, reminding him that she has a boyfriend now, and comments like that make her and George uncomfortable.

So now being close with Adrian feels too close, and while he tries to linger in her grasp Y/N pulls away with a tight grin. “I can’t believe it, we’re finally done!”

“This is the last chance we have, Y/N,” Adrian starts, placing his hands on her hips. Before Y/N can shake off his grasp Adrian lurches forward and presses their lips together.

Y/N moves her face away and tries to push Adrian off of her. “Adrian, stop. I’m with George, you know that.”

“But you could be with me. You should be with me,” Adrian tells her, tightening his grip on her hips. “That’s how it was supposed to be, Y/N. Marcus and Daphne would get married, we would get married. Our kids would grow up together, we’d stand on the same platform we met on holding hands as we send our kids off to school. I love you. And you were supposed to love me too.”

Before Y/N has a chance to respond, a familiar hand is grabbing Adrian’s shoulder and pulling him away from Y/N. George stands in between them, and while Y/N can’t see George’s face, she can tell from the way his back muscles are tensed that he’s pissed.

“What the hell are you doing, Pucey?” George spits. “Y/N doesn’t feel that way about you. She never has and she never will. If this wasn’t supposed to be a special day for her I’d knock your fucking lights out like I’ve wanted to since November. So, get the fuck out of here before I make you get the fuck out of here.”

Y/N wraps her arms around George’s neck as he turns around, watching Adrian stalk off over his shoulder.

-

“Long time no see, Y/N,” he taunts, keeping his wand pointed at her.

Y/N tightens her grip on her wand, keeping it at his chest. Their friendship may have ended in disaster, but she hopes that the years of memories they had before that keep him from doing anything. Adrian may not be the person she thought he was, but Y/N doesn’t want to hurt him. “How’ve you been?” she asks, trying to keep her voice even.

Adrian scoffs. “Don’t act like you care about me now, Y/N. You had your chance to be with me. And you gave it up, for what? True Love?” his voice is mocking, condescending and it makes Y/N’s stomach turn. “But where’s Weasley now? When you need him most?” Adrian’s eyes fall from Y/N’s face to her neck and she lets out a gasp as he places his wand on her chest and lifts up the end of her necklace with it. The tip of his wand is now directly in front of her neck, and a cold sweat runs down her back. “Still wearing this cheap necklace, I see. If you were mine you’ d be dripping with diamonds and pearls. You’d want for nothing.”

“All I want is George,” Y/N answers firmly. Y/N hasn’t taken the necklace George gave her for their first Christmas together off since the day he put it on her neck. It’s like a promise ring, it’s George’s promise of forever, and in these times she’s needed it now more than ever. “So, go head and kill me, or Crucio me, or do whatever you want. But I’m gonna die thinking about George, I’m going to die loving George. And I hope that knowledge drives you crazy for the rest of your life.” Y/N closes her eyes as Adrian’s mouth opens, getting ready to cast her own curse. But before either of them can say anything a familiar voice is casting a curse of their own.

“Stupefy!” George shouts, his wand aimed directly at Adrian’s back.

Y/N’s eyes pop back open as Adrian’s body slumps to the ground, and there George is, standing just a few feet away, his stance firm and his wand raised high. Tears start to spill down her cheeks as she steps over Adrian’s unconscious body before Y/N is running at full speed towards her boyfriend and jumping into his open arms. “Oh my god Georgie,” she sobs, pressing her face into his neck.

“Hi teacup,” he chuckles, wrapping his arms firmly around her waist. He can hear her laugh at the nickname, and George presses a kiss to Y/N’s temple. “I’ve been looking all over for you, darling. I’ve been losing my fucking mind.”

Y/N pulls away from George’s neck so she can kiss him desperately. It’s been far too long since she last saw him, and Y/N can’t help but think about the last time George held her like this.

-

“Y/N! Grab my hand!” George shouts, reaching out to her.

Y/N shouts a curse at a snatcher as she runs towards George, gripping onto his hand tightly with her own. She shuts her eyes tight as George pulls her into his chest, and it feels like all the air is being sucked from her lungs as George disapperates them to safety.

“Fucking hell,” Y/N groans as she lands on her back in the middle of a field, George landing right on top of her. George’s fingers dig into her sides and Y/N laughs as she pushes at his shoulders. “Get off of me you oaf I’m suffocating!”

They both giggle as George rolls off of Y/N, settling on his back next to her. “Are you okay, teacup?”

Y/N takes a few deep breaths, trying to find the answer to George’s question. Official Order business put them in the middle of some forest on the outskirts of Essex, and just before they were leaving they ran into a band of snatchers. They ran and fought them for nearly 20 minutes before George had managed to take them to wherever they are now.

“I’m okay,” Y/N answers honestly a few minutes later. She turns onto her side so she can look down at George. “Are you doing okay? Where are we?”

“Aunt Muriel’s house is about 100 yards north of us, we used to play Quidditch out here when we’d visit her as kids. It’s the only place I could think of that would be safe and secluded.” George reaches up and tucks a stray piece of hair behind Y/N’s ear. “I’m doing okay. Better now that I’m here with you.”

Y/N smiles at George sadly and leans down to kiss him softly. After the ministry fell Y/N left her training program at St. Mungo’s to work for the Order full time, and she was placed in a safe house up in Wales. Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes has been closed for weeks, and Fred and George have turned it into Potterwatch Headquarters. It’s now early November, and Y/N hasn’t seen George since the beginning of August at Bill and Fleur’s wedding.

“I wish I could come home,” she says quietly, running her fingers through George’s hair. He hasn’t been home for Molly to cut it and it’s starting to get long again. “It’s so lonely up in Wales without you. Feels like I can’t get a proper nights sleep without you in bed next to me.”

George grabs Y/N’s chin and pulls her down into a searing kiss. “Our bed is cold without you, teacup. Your pillow doesn’t even smell like you anymore.” He reaches up then and untucks her necklace from the collar of her shirt. “Still wearing this old thing?” he teases, toying with the charms. “I should get you something new, flashier. Even with Diagon Alley closed we’ve been doing some mail order business. And I’ve got all that savings. Could get you something nice.”

Y/N scoffs and slaps George on the chest playfully. “I love my necklace, Georgie. You act like you still don’t wear that stupid teapot pin every day,” she teases. “Teapots are kinda our thing and I love that. Besides you should spend your savings on something important. Like a new broom or something.”

“Or an engagement ring, or a wedding, or a house,” George muses with a grin. “I’m gonna end up spending it on you either way, Y/N. You take your pick.”

“Stop, don’t say that,” Y/N responds, her cheeks flushing pink.

George pulls Y/N onto his chest, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I promised you forever, didn’t I, Y/N? Once this war is over I’m going to put the fattest diamond money can buy on your ring finger and officially make you mine forever. Got it?”

“It doesn’t have to be the fattest diamond, just something simple and classy,” Y/N mumbles, pressing her face into George’s chest. She can feel his laughter rumble in his chest, and she smiles against his shirt. “I wish we could just lay here forever.”

“Me too,” George responds quietly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I love you. So much that it hurts sometimes. You know that, right?”

Y/N looks up at George, a look of concern on her features. “Of course, George. I love you too.”

“I just,” George pauses to clear his throat, needing to choke back the rush of emotion he’s suddenly feeling. “I need you to know, how much you mean to me. In case, in case this is the last time you ever see me. This war, everything is so uncertain. I could die, I just-,” George’s words cut off as he suddenly sobs, and hot tears start to roll down his cheeks.

“Georgie,” Y/N coos, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw. She rolls off of him then onto her back, pulling George so he’s half laying on top of her with his head resting on her chest. She starts to run a hand through his hair, while the other rubs his back soothingly. “You can’t think about stuff like that, okay? I know things are scary out there but we gotta stay focused on the positive. That fat diamond and the big wedding and the house. The dog, the chickens, the babies. How am I gonna get my six little ginger babies if you die? Hm?”

“Six?” George asks with a sniffle. “I thought we agreed on four.”

“Yeah well I’ve had a lot of time to think while I’ve been on my own and I changed my mind,” Y/N chuckles. “Either way you have to stay alive in order to give me all that. So promise me George, that you’ll stay alive. That you’ll fight hard, for me. For you. For our ginger babies.”

George picks his head up and pulls Y/N’s face down to his, kissing her slowly and with so much love it makes his head dizzy. “I promise. Forever.”

-

That moment was already six months ago, but to Y/N it’s felt like a lifetime, so she hugs him a bit tighter, trying to convey six months’ worth of feelings and sentiments into one embrace. Time is not on their side, and while Y/N would happily stand here in George’s embrace for the next few weeks, if they both plan on staying alive they can’t linger too long.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Y/N asks, pulling away slightly so she can properly look at George. There’s dust and debris all over his face, she doesn’t see any blood, and as her hands roam around his torso and arms she can’t feel any bandages and he doesn’t wince at all.

George chuckles and cups Y/N’s face in one of his hands. “I’m absolutely fine, teacup. Not a scratch, I promise. Can’t give you those six ginger babies like I promised if I’m hurt, can I?”

“It’s seven now,” Y/N mumbles, pressing her face into his chest. “And I want a sheep too.”

“And a sheep? That’s it, that’s where I draw the line,” George teases, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “What about you? Are you okay, Y/N? I thought Adrian. I thought Adrian was gonna kill you.”

Y/N shudders at the thought of what might have happened and looks up at George. There’s so much that’s happened since they last spoke, so much she needs to tell him. But now is certainly not the time or place for it. Once they get through this night they’ll have the rest of their lives to be together, heal together. “I’m doing alright. Better now that I’ve seen you. Have you seen anyone else?”

George shakes his head. “Fred and I got separated a bit ago, I saw him with Percy not too long ago, just before I found you. Ginny was on bridge duty with Neville and Seamus so who knows where she ended up. Dad and Mum were in the Great Hall when I left them, and I haven’t seen Ron, Hermione or Harry since the preparations began. But honestly I haven’t been paying attention too much. I’ve been trying to find you, teacup. I was worried when you didn’t show up in the room of requirement.”

“I was on duty, with Tonks. By the time we got the memo and got over here stuff was already going on, people were running around and making preparations and stuff. I tried to find you, but Cho needed my help. I’ve been running around this damn castle trying to find you,” Y/N explains.

Just then a wall somewhere near them collapses, and George covers Y/N’s head with his body. George kisses Y/N again as the dust around them settles, needing to feel close to her for another moment. “I love you. I love you. I love you,” he murmurs, pressing a brief kiss to her lips between each set of words. His eye catches the shine of her necklace and George reaches up, feeling the charms between his fingertips. “Just a little bit longer until we can have our forever, yeah?”

“As long as you don’t die on me,” Y/N tries to tease, digging her fingers into George’s shoulders. The fear bubbling in her stomach creeps into her voice, and she rubs her thumb over the teapot pin stuck to the lapel of George’s jacket, needing to ground herself with something familiar. “You can’t die on me, George.” Y/N can feel tears running down her cheeks, but she doesn’t move to wipe them away, not wanting to let go of George, even for a second. “I can’t live without you.”

“You’re my everything,” George murmurs, cupping Y/N’s cheek so he can brush away some of her tears with his thumb. “And you’re never getting rid of me. Got that?”

Y/N nods and leans up on her tiptoes to press one last kiss to George’s mouth. “I’ll see you on the other side, yeah?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

-

Y/N runs as fast as her legs will carry her back to the Great Hall. It’s been hours since she saw George and her hands haven’t stopped shaking since Voldemort started to speak to them, urging them to stop fighting and collect their dead. George could be one of those dead and even though Y/N’s eyes are blurry from the tears she’s shedding, she doesn’t stop to wipe them away. She feels like she can’t breathe, and it has nothing to do with the fact that she’s running. Y/N knows she won’t be able to properly breathe until she sees George again, so she just keeps moving.

Her legs are on fire when she reaches the Great Hall and as she pushes the heavy wooden door open her legs finally come to a screeching halt. There are makeshift gurneys all over the floor, some covered, some not. But Y/N is sure the one thing they have in common is the fact that there’s a dead body laying on top of it. She tries not to let herself linger on their faces too long, just trying to spot a shock of red hair.

That’s when she sees it. The Weasley family is at the other end of the Great Hall, standing around one of the gurneys. Y/N can see Bill and Fleur clutching each other, and everyone has tears in their eyes. She can’t see who’s laying on the ground, but as she lets her eyes pass over everyone a gut-wrenching sob leaves her throat as one thing becomes clear. It’s one of the twins. Whichever one is still alive has their back towards her with their head bowed, so she has no idea who it is.

Y/N’s knees quiver as she forces herself to walk over there, bile rising up her throat. He had promised. George had promised her forever. Had promised her that he’d stay alive. Had promised to spend the rest of his life loving her. They had planned out their entire life, and now that may be all gone.

“George. George, please,” Y/N chokes out as she approaches, her legs feeling like jelly. Whoever it is finally turns around, and Y/N takes her first full deep breath in what feels like forever.  

“Teacup,” George cries as Y/N launches herself onto him, his arms wrapping around her waist to hold her close. He presses his face into her neck and just sobs, his shoulders shaking from the force of his tears.

Y/N starts to shush George and rub his back, trying desperately to soothe him. It has always been Fred and George. The only person she ever had to share George with was Fred and she never minded a bit. Fred and George were the most dynamic duo the Wizarding World has ever seen, destined to live out the rest of their days making the world laugh and causing chaos wherever they go. But now it’ll be just George, and Y/N has no idea how to make that okay.

Fred and Y/N certainly had their issues. Years of hating someone will do that to you, and when she and George started dating it became a silent agreement between them to be civil. But now, looking at Fred’s pale face over George’s shoulder, Y/N can feel her momentary relief rush out of her body, and overwhelming sadness takes its place as fresh hot tears start to roll down her cheeks.

Her and Fred had just barely started to come together when the war started, and now they’ll never have that chance again.

-

“He’s fine you know,” Fred comments as he comes to stand next to Y/N. “You’re looking at him as if he’s going to fall apart into a million tiny pieces with a hard gust of wind.”

Y/N chuckles, and finally looks away from George so she can look up at Fred. Bill and Fleur’s wedding is in full swing, and while Y/N knows this is supposed to be a time to celebrate, a rare moment of sunshine in the darkness of the Wizarding World, panic settled deep in her stomach the moment she stumbled into the Burrow with Ron and saw George lying on the couch, bleeding out of his head and it hasn’t left since. Had the curse been aimed half a centimeter to the left they’d be at a funeral right now, not a wedding. Molly had managed to heal George up fine, and he’s been his usual jovial self over the few days it’s been since his injury, but Y/N can’t help but still worry.

“It makes me feel better,” Y/N admits honestly, letting her eyes find George again. “I’m afraid that if I look away for too long he’ll just disappear. That all my fears will be confirmed and there will forever be a George sized hole in my heart and my life.” Y/N swallows thickly, trying to push away the tears threatening to spill over her cheeks. “He could have died, and I truly wouldn’t know what to do with myself if that happened.”

“I thought he was dead,” Fred says after a few moments of silence, surprising Y/N. “When Dad and I got back he asked where George was, and no one said anything. Remus, Harry, they all just looked at us. I figured he was dead. That’s why they wouldn’t tell us. There was so much blood when we got in there, I actually thought he was dead. And then he moved, and it felt like I could breathe again.”

Y/N worries her bottom lip between her teeth as she watches George fiddle with the gauze wrapped around his head. She wants to just go over there and slap his hands away and remind him he has to keep it clean if he wants it to heal, a conversation she already had to have with him this morning after she found him sipping coffee in the kitchen with his toothbrush sticking out of the side of his head.

“It’s my fault. I wasn’t even supposed to go. But Tonks is pregnant, and she shouldn’t be putting her life on the line like that. Not even for blimin’ Harry Potter. George tried to convince me not to go. Said he’d worry about me too much if I was out there.” Y/N shrugs, taking a long sip of champagne. “Maybe if I had stayed here like I was supposed to he would have been able to dodge the curse, or he’d have been focused enough to send Snape out of the sky before he even got a chance to hurt George.”

Fred nudges Y/N with his elbow so she’ll look up at him. “You like, really love him, don’t you?”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Really? It took George almost dying for you to realize that? Figured your first clue would have been all the times you heard us having sex. Or maybe the fact that I’ve been living with you guys for over a year now.”

“Okay, no need to be nasty,” Fred huffs. “Obviously I know you guys are in love with each other or whatever. But you’re like really in it, yeah? For the long haul. Thought maybe you guys shouting about how you’re going to be together forever was just some weird sex thing.”

“I mean it is a weird sex thing,” Y/N tells him, laughing as he grimaces. “But it’s more than that too obviously. There’s no person on this planet I’d rather be with than George. Or who I love more than George. He’s my everything, Fred. I’m not going to hurt him, I promise.”

“Better not,” Fred mumbles with a scoff. “I’ll curse you into next week if you do, bloody girl or not.”

Y/N can hear the smile in Fred’s voice, but before she gets a chance to respond George is heading over towards them, looking far too pleased with himself.

“Look at this, my brother and my girlfriend getting along, how cute,” he teases, wrapping his arms around Y/N’s waist. She reaches up to fix his bandage where it slipped, and her gentle touch makes his knees feel weak. “Just in time too. Be a bit awkward for Fred to be my best man if you two hate each other still.”

“Who said I’d want to be your best man anyway, git?” Fred jokes. “All this wedding crap is for the birds.”

George rolls his eyes fondly, pressing a kiss to the top of Y/N’s head. “Fine, I’ll just ask Ron or Harry or Lee. Maybe even Charlie. You’re not the only man for the job, Freddie.”

“But I’m the best man for it,” Fred responds, causing both Y/N and George to groan at his lame joke. “Try and replace me as your best man again and you’ll never hear the end of my cheesy jokes, moron.”

“No need to be feisty, I was just playing. Of course, you’re the only man for the job.”

-

Now Fred will never get to be the best man at their wedding. Or be there when their children are born. Or have children of his own. Just like how Y/N and George planned out their lives, he and Fred had done the same. Buying houses next to each other so they never had to travel far to see the other. They both wanted to have a boy first, close in age, so they each had someone to hand the joke shop down to. But in the blink of an eye all of that has changed, and Y/N doesn’t know if George will ever be the same again.

“You’re okay, George. It’s all gonna be okay,” Y/N coos, just wanting to calm him down. She presses a few kisses to the side of his face slowly, just letting him know that she’s there. Her arms wind around his neck as George’s grip tightens on her waist and she just hugs him tightly.

Y/N hears someone sob behind her, and she releases George so he can pull Ron into a bone crushing hug. She pulls Ginny into a hug next, letting the younger girl rest her head on her shoulder. Y/N isn’t officially a Weasley, not by any means, but this family has shown her nothing but love and welcomed her with open arms and she wants to do everything she can to help them through this. She and Hermione lock eyes, and Y/N can tell by the way the other girl is hovering on the edge of the circle with her hand on Ron’s shoulder she feels the same way.

Harry is hovering just behind Hermione, but instead of coming closer like Y/N expects he turns on his heel and heads out of the Great Hall. Y/N knows that can only mean one thing. This battle is far from over, and she hugs Ginny just a little tighter, hoping it gives them both the strength to keep fighting.

-

The sun is already high in the sky when everyone makes it back to The Burrow. They’re living in a new world, a world that will never be plagued by Voldemort’s darkness, but it seems darkness of other kinds has already started to take its place. 50 people lost their lives that night alone, not to mention the countless others who’ve been lost along the way. Death has touched many families in the Wizarding World, and everyone can feel its burden as they collapse into chairs at the kitchen table.

Molly starts worrying about food and making everyone tea, while George shuffles up the stairs without bothering to say anything. They all had lingered in the Great Hall for as long as they could, not wanting to leave Fred’s body there alone. It wasn’t until people from St. Mungo’s showed up to take away the dead that Molly and Arthur suggested they all head home, and Bill and Charlie had to practically drag George away from Fred. He barely even looked at anyone as they started to apperate home, and when Y/N tried to grab his hand he shoved her off.

Y/N tried not to take it personally, obviously George is going through the hardest moment of his life, but she couldn’t help but feel a little hurt. Her and George are supposed to be there for each other through everything, and it makes her chest ache that in the time where he needs people the most he’s pushing her away.

“He’ll come around,” Charlie whispers, nudging Y/N’s knee with his. She finally looks away from the staircase, trying to return his warm smile. “Fred and,” he starts, pausing to clear his throat. “George is tough, probably the toughest guy I know, and I’ve seen some things in Romania. He just needs a bit of time.”

“Thanks, Charlie.” Y/N takes a sip of her tea, just needing something to distract herself. It’s still fairly hot and the liquid burns the roof of her mouth, but the uncomfortable feeling of her singed tongue is a welcome distraction from the pain in her chest, and Y/N takes another sip.

“Y/N dear, why don’t you go ahead and owl your parents? I’m sure they’re waiting to hear from you,” Molly suggests, before turning back to whatever she has cooking on the stove.

Y/N rests her mug back on the table and plays with the sleeves of her jumper, trying to fight the tears that threaten to spill over her cheeks. “They’re um. They died actually. About three months ago now I think.” The kitchen goes still, and Y/N drops her gaze to the table as everyone turns to look at her. “They wouldn’t let me move them to a safe house, they kept going on about how they weren’t afraid of Voldemort, that they weren’t going to let him force them out of their house. But when death eaters come knocking you either join or die, so.”

Her parents may have refused to be moved to a safe house, but they allowed Y/N to set up an undetectable communication system, so they could at least keep in touch. When her parents went more than eight hours without responding to her last message Y/N started to freak out, and she convinced Remus to go with her to check on them. They were sitting on the couch as if they had simply fallen asleep together, but Y/N could tell something much sinister had happened. She managed to find their house elf Marjorie hiding in the garden shed, and she told Y/N everything that had happened. How people in masks had shown up and when her parents refused to leave with them jets of green light came from their wands. Y/N ended up being called away on a mission, and her parents were buried in the small cemetery at the end of their road, with no one in attendance but the grave digger.

Y/N can feel arms wrap around her, and she presses her face into Ginny’s neck finally letting herself cry. There wasn’t proper time for her to mourn her parents, not in the middle of the war, and as Ginny squeezes her tight Y/N finally lets the emotions that have been building inside of her for the past three months spill out. “They were my only family. And now they’re just gone and I’m all alone.”

“You’re not alone,” Ginny coos quietly, rubbing her back. “We’re your family too.”

-

George barely gets out of bed for days. The only times he moves are to shuffle to the loo or when Y/N or Molly is forcing him to drink water or eat something. His eyes are blank, lifeless and Y/N hasn’t heard him speak since the battle. He doesn’t even make sounds when he cries anymore, the tears just run down his face as he takes shaky breaths.  

And as much as it pains Y/N to see George like this, pains them all to see him like this they just let him be. Of course, they all feel Fred’s death. But no one, not even Y/N can fathom what Fred’s death feels like to George. So they let him lay in Fred’s old bed, stopping in to check on him periodically throughout the day and talk to him even though he never talks back. And every night before she crawls into George’s old bed Y/N is sure to kiss George on the top of his head and whisper how much she loves him before going to sleep alone.

The first day they actually force him out of bed is the day of Fred’s funeral. Bill and Charlie pick him up under the armpits and deposit him in the bathroom where Y/N is waiting, situating him in the empty tub. Y/N gives them both an appreciative smile before they leave, and as soon as the door is shut tight behind them she turns to George.

“Gotta get you undressed, okay bub?” she asks softly, kneeling down next to the tub. George keeps his eyes facing forward but gives a little nod, and Y/N takes it as her cue to get him undressed. Once she’s gotten rid of his clothes Y/N lets the tub start to fill up with water, and she runs her hand through his hair, scratching at his scalp as they wait for it to finish.

Y/N washes George quickly, just talking to him about whatever things come to mind. At one-point George reaches up and cups her cheek and Y/N can’t help but lean into his touch. It’s the first contact he’s initiated since they left Hogwarts, and it makes butterflies erupt in her stomach.

Once George is clean Y/N drains the tub and uses a spell to dry George off before pulling a fresh pair of boxers up his legs. “Your suits in your room. Do you want me to get Bill and Charlie or will you be okay going on your own with me?”

All George does is make a noise in the back of his throat, but he starts to stand up then, so Y/N lets him move, following behind him back into his and Fred’s old room. Molly is standing in the hallway, and she and Y/N share a hopeful look before they disappear into the room. This is the most life George has had in him since Fred’s death, and Y/N hopes this means they’re on the road to recovery.

“I got you a new suit,” Y/N tells him as he takes a seat on his bed and she heads over to the wardrobe to grab it from where it’s hanging. Her and Molly had gone to the flat above Wheezes the day before to grab some things for the both of them, but the main thing they needed was something for George to wear. The only formal clothes he has at the Burrow are the dress robes he wore to the Yule Ball, so they needed to get him something.

But as they examined George’s closet they mostly found t-shirts and sweaters, nothing proper for him to wear at a funeral. Turns out the only suits George owns are the few he rotates between for work, and when Molly had reached in to grab one Y/N put her hand out to stop her. Because all of those suits have a matching one hanging in Fred’s closet across the hall. And even though George isn’t ready to jump back into work Y/N knows that he will be, someday. And she doesn’t want any one of these suits to be tainted with the memories of Fred’s funeral. Not when they already hold so many happy memories. Memories of the first day the store was open, of all their late nights brainstorming new products or dealing with paperwork. Y/N had seen George at his happiest while wearing those suits, had watched him and Fred share mischievous smiles as their dreams became a reality. Someday George will step into one of those suits again, and Y/N doesn’t want the first thing he thinks about to be Fred’s funeral.

She gets George dressed quickly, pressing a lingering kiss to his forehead once it’s done. “I love you, George. And I know you love me too, even if you can’t say it right now, okay? I’m here for you always. No matter what.” Y/N goes over to the desk in the corner and grabs the teapot pin she bought for George all those years ago. It feels thin and flimsy in her hand, and she almost feels silly as she pins it to his jacket. Like she’s still that eager teenager, shopping in London with her Mum for the perfect gift to give the boy of her dreams that she loves with her whole heart. But it’s their promise of forever, and Y/N thinks George needs that now more than ever.

-

Fred’s funeral is packed, which is a surprise to no one. Fred was magnetic and left an impression on everyone he ever came in contact with. Y/N stays by George’s side, greeting everyone that comes to talk with them. Most of their classmates show up and Y/N even recognizes a few regulars from the joke shop. Even Professor Slughorn shows up, despite the fact that he never taught Fred, and Y/N is pretty sure she catches McGonagall wiping away a few tears out of the corner of her eye.

Andromeda comes through with baby Teddy in her arms, and even George cracks the faintest of smiles when the sparse hair on his head turns bright orange. The only time Y/N leaves George’s side is when Lee shows up and she goes to stand with Ginny and Harry who are comforting a teary-eyed Oliver Wood so that the two friends can have a moment alone. George doesn’t say anything, but when Lee goes to sit down George has tears running down his cheeks and Y/N goes back to his side so she can wipe them away.

Ginny ends up being the one to give the Eulogy. Both Bill and Charlie had tried, but every time they sat down to write something they just couldn’t get the words out. Percy had declined his dad’s offer, still too unsure of his place in the family and still too busy blaming himself to feel comfortable enough to talk about how much Fred meant to him. George had been the obvious choice, but he can’t even talk about the weather, and no one wanted to pressure him into doing something he wasn’t ready for. Ron had actually managed to write out a beautiful tribute with the help of Hermione, but two words in he got so emotional he started hyperventilating.

So, it fell onto Ginny’s shoulders to be the one to give the tribute to Fred. Y/N watches Ginny’s knees shake as she stands in front of her brother’s casket, her eyes never once straying to the cards in her hands. Her voice is clear and strong as she tells the story about the first prank she’d ever helped Fred and George pull off, but the tears streaming down her face glisten in the sunlight. Both Fred and George always held a soft spot for their younger sister, so as she stands up there and talks about how much she loved Fred it only seems right that Ginny be the one to say the final goodbye to him.

As Fred’s casket lowers into the ground everyone stands up, holding their wands high as they cast a bright white light into the sky. Y/N slips her hand into George’s, giving his fingers a tight squeeze as they give their final tribute to Fred. Ron waves his wand so a few whizbangs he and Harry had set up can go off. They had found them in Fred and George’s room so of course as they erupt into the sky the colors burst into a few different explicit words.

Everyone, even George, manages to laugh and it feels like the perfect way to send off Fred, the guy who dedicated his life to making people laugh and who died with his final smile still etched on his face.

-

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay a bit longer?” Molly asks, placing her hands on Y/N’s shoulders. “It’s not a bother at all having you two here. It’s nice, to have the house a bit full again.”

Y/N nods, sparing a glance over her shoulder at George. He’s sitting on the arm of the sofa, listening to Ron chatter on about who knows what. It’s nearly June now, and while things with George have been progressing slowly, Y/N is optimistic that they’ll only get better as time goes on. He gets out of bed for short stretches of time now, and when you talk with him he actually seems like he’s listening. He’s said a few quiet things to both Molly and Y/N, but when the whole family is around he tends to just sit there and let everyone else do the talking for him.

Things have started to get back to somewhat normal for everyone, and Y/N decided it was time for her and George to do the same. Bill and Fleur are back at shell cottage, working hard to get Gringotts back in working order, and Charlie finally went back to Romania last week. Arthur and Percy will be back at the ministry next week, and even Harry and Ron will be joining them for their Auror training.

George isn’t ready to reopen the shop yet, but Y/N figures just being back in the flat will help him continue to heal. “I think some normalcy will help George. Get him in a routine, back to living his everyday life. We’ll be back plenty, but I think it’s time we go home.”

“My boy is in good hands with you, Y/N, that’s for sure.” Molly leans in and presses a kiss to Y/N’s forehead. “And you’ll owl? If anything happens?”

“Of course, Molly.” Y/N gives Molly a final smile before turning back to look at George. “You ready to go home, love?”

George nods and doesn’t say anything, but the corners of his mouth twitch up into a smile. He takes the hand that Y/N offers him, holding it loosely in his own. He still isn’t as physically affectionate as before, but Y/N is sure that with time everything will go back to how it was before.

-

“Are you going to get out of bed today?” Y/N asks, unable to stop the annoyance that creeps into her tone.

It’s nearly October now, and things with George have only seemed to stay the same, if not worse. Some days he gets out of bed and hangs out on the couch, flipping through muggle tv stations for hours on end, holding small conversations with Y/N when he feels up to it. Other days he lays in bed all day, or sometimes for days, his lips shut tight and him barely eating. Firewhiskey seems to be the main component of his diet and Y/N has no idea how he keeps getting more of it after she pours it down the drain, since he never leaves the house.

Everyone has been coddling George, and while Y/N can’t even imagine the pain George has been going through, she’s nearly reached the end of her rope. She’s brought in several different Wizard therapists to try and get George to open up, but each one just ended up leaving the flat after a frustrated hour of George not saying anything. She just wants to figure out some way to help him, and he’s been completely unresponsive in the whole thing.

“Maybe,” George mumbles, rolling onto his other side.

Y/N can hear the unmistakable sound of a Firewhiskey bottle opening and she flips the light on as she enters their room, heading over to George. “Where the hell do you keep getting this crap? Give me the bottle, George.”

George makes eye contact with Y/N as he takes a swig from the bottle, draining quite a bit of the amber liquid. It’s the only thing that has managed to make him feel something in the months since Fred’s death and he doesn’t care how much it bothers Y/N. “Last I checked you weren’t the boss of me,” George responds flatly before taking another drink.

The rude attitude is something new too. Along with his lack of physical affection, some days when George finds the energy to talk his tone is always crass. He’s never said anything horribly mean, but the way he says things never fails to cut Y/N deeply.

“I’m just trying to help you, George,” Y/N reminds him, softening her tone.

George scoffs and tosses the now empty bottle onto the floor. “Well no one asked you to.”

“Because that’s what you do when you love someone, George. You’re there for them no matter what.” Y/N waits for George to say something, and when he doesn’t she lets out a soft sigh. “I’m worried about you, Georgie. You barely get out of bed anymore, you’re not eating. I can’t even imagine the pain you’ve gone through these months. But it’s been nearly six months, love. And Fred wouldn’t want-.”

“Don’t. Don’t talk about him like you knew him. You and Fred had one civil conversation over a year ago. You have no idea what Fred wanted,” George says harshly, cutting Y/N off.

Y/N can feel tears pricking the corners of her eyes and she takes a deep breath to try and calm down. She knows this isn’t George talking, it’s the alcohol and the grief, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. “I get your upset George, I lost people I cared about too. But I don’t get all this anger. Why are you so mad at me? Is it something I said? Something I did? Just talk to me George, please.”

“You want me to talk? Fine, I’ll talk.” George sits up and crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes narrow as he looks at Y/N. “It’s all your fault, he’s dead because of you. I should have been with Fred. I could have cast a protective spell or pulled him out of the way. And he’d still be here. But I wasn’t with him. You know why? I was faffing about the castle looking for you, saving you. When I should have been with Fred.”

Y/N can feel hot tears running down her cheeks, and her fingers shake as she reaches up to wipe them away. “What are you saying, George? That you regret trying to find me? That you regret saving me? That you would go back and let Adrian kill me so you could save Fred?” Y/N pauses to swallow the lump in her throat. “You wish it had been me who died, don’t you?”

George doesn’t say anything, but it’s answer enough for Y/N. “Fuck you, George. I’ve spent the past five months of my life giving you my everything. Trying to help you, trying to make you feel better. And you’ve been what? Laying there wishing it had been me instead of Fred?” Y/N can feel her heart shattering as George just continues to look at her, the same cold expression on his face as before. “Well I’m done. With helping you, with coddling you. With everything.”

She can feel the necklace George gave her pressing against her skin, and while it’s normally a comforting feeling, now it feels as if it’s burning her skin and she reaches up, tearing it from around her throat. It’s the first time she’s taken it off since George gave it to her and as she looks at it in her hand Y/N wants to put it right back on.  But instead she throws it at George. It lands on his legs, and they both just stare at it for a moment.

“Take your promise of forever and shove it up your ass, George. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything, more than I’ve ever loved myself. But clearly you don’t feel the same way and I’m not going to spend the rest of my life pretending that it doesn’t kill me inside that you don’t love me the same way I love you.”

Without another word Y/N storms out of their bedroom and out of the flat, unsure of where she’s going to go next.

-

“You look dreadful,” Percy says honestly when George opens the door. His eyes are red with dark circles underneath, his hair is a mess and the pajamas he’s wearing are wrinkled and creased from him tossing and turning in his sleep.

Y/N had sent an owl to the Burrow after she ended things with George, and Percy had been the one to volunteer to visit George to try and talk to him. He gave him a few days to think about things before deciding to come and see him after work one day. The war took enough from George, and Percy couldn’t sit back and let George destroy one of the last good things in his life.

“What do you want?” George asks flatly, shuffling over towards the couch. He’s felt sick to his stomach since the moment Y/N walked away from him. He was angry and kind of drunk and sad when they fought, and George hadn’t meant a word of what he said to her. But he needed a way to get her to leave. Because George doesn’t know when he’ll ever feel normal again, when he’ll be able to love her properly again, and watching her throw her life away to help him fight a losing battle was getting to be too much.

It started two weeks ago, on one of his good days. He woke up in the morning feeling like himself, feeling like he did before the battle of Hogwarts. George had finally had a dream, not a nightmare or darkness in his eyelids while he slept. It was an actual dream, and when he opened his eyes in the morning the images of him running around a backyard with a redheaded toddler on his shoulders were still fresh in his mind.

And when he made it out into the kitchen where Y/N was making breakfast, she looked gorgeous and the smile on her face when George greeted her was bright enough to light up the world. He finally felt like things were going to be okay. He didn’t feel haunted by the closed bedroom door down the hall. George felt like he was ready, ready to get his shit back together and give Y/N everything he’d ever promised her.

But then he found it in the trash. A letter from the head Healer at St. Mungo’s. She was inviting Y/N to come back into the Healer program, to finish the training she started before the war. All she had to do was send a letter back confirming her reenrollment. But judging by the fact that she hadn’t mentioned anything, and the letter was in the trash, George figured Y/N wasn’t going to reenroll. It killed him that she was giving up on her dream to stay there with him--he was having a good day, but George knew that tomorrow, he could wake up and be right back to struggling to get out of bed. Y/N wanted to be a healer long before George occupied any of her thoughts, and he couldn’t let her throw that away.

So that day, he decided it was best if he let her go. Y/N had given up a lot for George already. His insecurities back at Hogwarts led her away from her best friends, his grief stopped her from dealing with the loss of people she cared about, and now, his inability to get his shit together was going to stop her from fulfilling her dream--the dream that made George start to fall in love with her in the first place. He couldn’t let her give up more of her life than she already had.

When Y/N tried to talk to him that day, he let whatever vile words he could think of spill out of his mouth. Seeing her so hurt, so broken, crushed whatever part of his soul was left, and he couldn’t let her keep living that way. But seeing her tear that necklace off broke something inside of George. He finally felt something other than numbness, and it was complete and utter pain. It felt like his heart was torn from his chest when Y/N slammed the door behind her, and even though George knew not being with him is what’s best for Y/N, his heart still beats for her and he’s sure it always will.

Percy sighs and follows George over to the couch. “What’s going on with you, George? You’re not acting like yourself.”

“I wonder why,” George responds, watching Percy sink into one of their armchairs. It’s weird, seeing him here. Percy barely wanted to enter Fred and George’s bedroom when they lived at home together, so he knows something must really be bothering him if he decided to come to the flat to see George.

“This isn’t about Fred,” Percy starts, holding up his hand to keep George from responding. “I’m not saying that you’re not still upset about him or that your grief isn’t valid. I’m talking about Y/N. She owled Mum about what you said. And while I imagine you’re still very hurt, we all are, I know you would never say anything like that to her. I’m not going to pretend that I know what your relationship with her was like, but I know you, George. And I saw the way she took care of you after what happened. So I know there’s no way you could have meant those things you said to her.”

“I’m not good enough for her anymore,” George says suddenly after a few minutes of silence. “I’m broken, damaged goods. And Y/N deserves the world. She was wasting her life sitting here and taking care of me.  I couldn’t let her do that anymore.”

“George you’re not broken, or damaged. You’re healing, there’s a difference. And keeping all of this in is certainly not helping.” Percy sits back and just watches George for a moment. “We talked, down in the kitchen that first night after the battle, Y/N and I. I couldn’t sleep and she came down for some water. We were talking, and I asked her what changed, how she went from hating your guts to looking at you like you’re the only person in the world. Do you wanna know what she said to me?”

When George just shrugs Percy leans forward so he can look at George better. “She told me about the night in detention. About how you guys had an actual conversation for once. And that you made her feel like someone was actually listening to her. That you validated her dreams and made her feel like they were attainable. Y/N said that she told you stuff she never even told her closest friends, because just being around you made her feel safe, like she could be vulnerable around you.”

George thinks about that first night in detention often. After that night, he couldn’t stop thinking about Y/N. He even remembers having a dream about how nice her hair smelled, and how good it would have felt to run his fingers through it. He thinks about that night in the broom closet too, hiding from McGonagall; he’d wanted to kiss her so badly, being so close to her made his knees shaky and his chest tight. George had planned on kissing Y/N that night when he dropped her off at the Slytherin common room, until Umbridge had run into them. When they finally had their first kiss a few nights later in that secret passageway, George knew that from that moment on, he couldn’t live without Y/N.

“Why are you telling me this? It doesn’t matter now.”

Percy sighs. “I’m telling you this because you need to know that it’s okay to be vulnerable with Y/N. Keeping all of this in is only hurting the both of you, George. She very clearly loves you, and I know you must love her too if you’re willing to be miserable for the rest of your life to make her happy. But you can both be happy, George. Happy together. You just need to, and pardon my language, take your head out of your ass.”

George chuckles at that. “Wow, Perc, you must be serious, I’ve never heard you say anything so lewd.”

“Yeah well I slacked on my big brother duties for a few years, I figured it’s time to make up for it.” Percy pauses, pursing his lips. “Y/N’s staying at her parent’s house, getting it all cleaned out. Think about what you’re gonna say and then go over and apologize to her. You deserve to be happy, George. Fred would want you to be happy.”

-

It takes a few days and a visit from his Mum to get his haircut, but George gets his shit together so he can go and talk to Y/N. He spent quite a long time trying to figure out what to say to her, and while it’s not exactly perfect it’s what George feels and that’s what matters to him. Because there’s no doubt in his mind that Y/N is the only person he wants to be with for the rest of his life, and he shouldn’t let his inability to express his thoughts get in the way of that. They’ve already been down that road together before, and George vowed to spend forever with Y/N and he still plans on making good on those promises.

He pushes the front door right open, letting the noise of Y/N muttering to herself as she shuffles things around lead him to where she is. He finds Y/N digging through the drawers of the dresser in her childhood bedroom. She’s wearing an oversized t-shirt that George thinks used to be in his closet and her hair is tied up on her head. George can feel his legs shaking as he leans up against the doorway, and he takes a deep breath to calm himself down.

“Hey, teacup.”

Y/N jumps at the sound of George’s voice and she spins to face the door, her hand clutching her chest. “For Merlin’s sake, George. You scared the shit out of me.” She can feel her heart racing in her chest, and it’s not from the fright George just gave her. He looks good, like his normal self and it feels like she’s seeing him for the first time. Molly has definitely cut his hair recently, and even though he’s still in comfy clothes the Gryffindor t-shirt and sweatpants he’s wearing are uncreased and look like they’ve been washed recently.

“Sorry, love, thought you heard me when I came in.” George bites his lip, fiddling with his thumbs. “You doing okay?”

Y/N shrugs, looking down at the floor. George is the last person she expected to show up here, and she’s not sure how she feels about it. He’s been on her mind since the moment she walked out the door of their flat last week, and the last words he spoke to her have been running on a constant loop in the back of her mind. She’s still so angry and hurt over what he said, but Y/N would be lying if she said every cell in her body isn’t screaming at her to just go up and hug him.

“I’ve been doing better, than before,” George continues when she doesn’t say anything. “Percy came to talk to me a few days ago, made me realize what an ass I was. Though I must say he was much nicer than Ginny was when she did the same thing a few years ago.” He lets out a breathy chuckle, and his stomach flips when Y/N looks back up at him with a small smile. “I owe you probably the biggest apology I’ll ever give in my entire life and I’d love to give it to you if you’d let me.”

It reminds Y/N of that day on the train when their only problems were jealousy and what house table they should eat dinner at. Y/N instinctively reaches up to grab the charms of her necklace, her hand faltering when all she meets is the cloth of her shirt. It’s something she’s done several times in the days it’s been since she ripped the piece of jewelry off, usually when she was missing George and wanted to feel like a piece of him was still nearby.

“I guess that’s something I could do,” she says quietly, going to take a seat on the edge of her bed. She pats the spot next to her, encouraging George to come sit. His hands are shaking as he comes and sits down, and it takes all of Y/N’s restraint to not reach out and grab one of them.

“I lied to you. I don’t blame you, for what happened to Fred. And I don’t regret anything I did that night. If it had been you who died instead of Fred I don’t think I would have been able to carry on with my life. Because Y/N you are quite literally the only reason why I wake up every morning, you’re the reason why I have the energy to get out of bed somedays, and the reason why I feel okay when I don’t. Falling in love with you, being with you has been the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

George reaches up to wipe away a few of the tears Y/N has started to shed, his fingers trembling as they softly press against her cheek. “And even though I haven’t been the best person to be around lately, you’ve been by my side through everything. You’ve been so patient and understanding, way more than I deserve. You put your life on hold to help me, and I’ve been rejecting all of your efforts. I don’t know how to do all of this. How to grieve and handle my emotions. Talk about my emotions. And instead of just trying I’ve been keeping them all in, letting them settle in me and get worse. I haven’t felt like myself in months, haven’t allowed myself to. And yet every day you were there, with a smile and a reassuring touch, telling me how much you love me. I started to feel guilty, so overwhelmingly so it felt like my chest was going to cave in. Because there you were, putting your life on hold, giving up your dream to try and help me and I couldn’t even manage to tell you how much I love and appreciate you.”

Y/N reaches up and wipes away a few of George’s tears this time, letting her fingers gently caress his cheek. “George I didn’t mind, doing all of that for you. That’s what you do when you love someone. You make sacrifices, change your plans. I would give up everything to be there for you.”

“That’s why I said all of those things to you, Y/N. Pushed you away, forced you to leave. Because I don’t want you to give up everything to be with me.” George cups Y/N’s cheek gently so he can look her in the eyes. “You deserve to have everything you’ve ever wanted in life, and you deserve to have a partner that can be there for you. That can support you fully in everything you do. And I didn’t think I could be that person for you.”

“Didn’t think you could be? Or don’t think you could be?” Y/N asks through her sniffles.

“Didn’t,” George confirms, his voice serious. “Because living without you, even for a few moments was the most intense pain I have ever felt. And even though I don’t know when I’ll feel completely back to normal there are a few things I do know. I know that I love you. And I know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I know I want to support you and be there for you in everything you do. And I know that I want to try and be better for you. And for me. Most importantly I know that I want you, forever. I want all those things I promised you, the stupid diamond and the wedding and the seven ginger babies. I know that I actually want to live my life, not just watch it pass me by. And the only person I want to do that with is you.”

George pauses to dig around in the pocket of his sweatpants, and a moment later he pulls out Y/N’s necklace. Except this time along with the teapot and G charm, there’s a simple diamond ring hanging from the chain. “So I am so, so sorry for treating you the way I have, the way I did. And teacup, if you’ll let me, I promise to cherish you and support you and love you forever.”

It’s not the way Y/N ever imagined this moment would take place, but as she surges forward to kiss George properly for the first time in months, it feels absolutely perfect. She knows that they have a long road of healing and mending ahead and that their lives will probably never be the way they imagined them. But none of that matters. All Y/N needs and has ever needed is George. “Of course, George. There is no one else I want to spend forever with.”

George lets Y/N pull him into another kiss as he fumbles with the necklace, trying to get the ring off so he can slip it onto her finger. She starts to kiss down his neck, and George lets out a soft moan as he finally gets the ring in his hand. “Hang on teacup, wait a minute.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Y/N mumbles as she pulls away, her cheeks flushed pink. “It’s fine if you’re not ready to we can wait for as long as you want I just figured that-.”

George cuts her off with a laugh. “Oh no that’s not what I meant, Y/N. I am more than ready to be with you like that again. I just wanna put your ring and your necklace on first.”

“Oh right I kinda forgot about that,” Y/N says with a giggle, holding her left hand out for George. Between the war and George’s grief they haven’t been intimate in well over a year now, and Y/N’s fingers stopped being sufficient long ago so in her haste to get George into bed she completely forgot about the ring.

“You can’t not have your ring on the first time we do it as an engaged couple,” George teases as he slides the ring down her finger. The diamond glistens in the sunlight streaming in through the window and to George it looks as if the ring was made to be on Y/N’s finger.

Y/N examines the ring up close for the first time as she turns around so George can clasp her necklace back around her neck. It’s simple, but gorgeous and everything she’s ever wanted in an engagement ring. George finally gets the clasp of the necklace closed and Y/N shivers as the cool metal settles against her skin. A moment later George’s warm mouth is pressing kisses into her skin and she lets out a quiet noise.

“I missed you so much,” George murmurs as he turns Y/N back around, kissing her softly. He starts to slowly lay her back against the pillows as their mouths move together, crawling on top of her. “You did such a good job taking care of me, teacup. Now it’s my turn to take care of you.”

George helps Y/N out of her top before he starts to slowly kiss down her neck, his hands slowly rubbing up and down her sides. It’s been far too long since he showed Y/N just how much he loves and appreciates her, and he plans on making up for it now. He moves his lips down her chest, taking one of her nipples between his lips. The tip of his tongue flicks at the sensitive bud for a moment before he sucks on it gently.

“Oh, George,” Y/N moans, tangling one of her hands in his hair. She tugs on it lightly as her hips move off of the bed to grind up against George’s. She can already feel her arousal pooling in her panties and she’s ready for more.

“God you are gorgeous,” George murmurs before capturing Y/N’s other nipple in his mouth and giving it the same treatment as the other. “I don’t deserve you,” he mumbles into her skin as he starts to kiss down her stomach. “You are perfect in every way, Y/N.”

“I love you,” Y/N tells George quietly as he gets rid of her bottoms, lifting her hips up to help him. She shivers as she rests back against the bed, completely bare for him. His gentle touch on her knees makes goosebumps rise on her skin, and she lets out a whine as he spreads her legs open.

“I love you too, teacup. So much. More than anything in the world.” George starts to kiss Y/N’s inner thigh, leading a trail up to her dripping cunt. He pauses to suck a mark onto the inner most part of her thigh, just a few centimeters away from where she needs him most. George brings two fingers to her cunt, spreading her wetness around as he rubs through her folds.

Y/N’s hips grind down against George’s gentle touch, and she tugs on George’s hair when he chuckles. “Please, George. I need you.”

George slips two fingers into Y/N’s cunt as his lips attach to her clit, moaning against her when walls clench around his digits. He sucks on her clit gently, slowly moving his fingers in her, curling them with every push back into her entrance.

“Oh yes, Georgie, fuck. Feels so good,” Y/N groans, her hips starting to grind down against George’s face and hands. She spreads her legs even wider, whining when the fingers of George’s free hand dig into her thigh.

“Such a good girl for me, teacup,” he praises, pressing a wet kiss to her clit. He starts to move his fingers faster, scissoring his fingers to help stretch her and get her ready for his cock. “Making such pretty noises for me, just like you always do.”

Y/N lets out a low moan as George reattaches his mouth to her clit, bringing her free hand up to pinch at her nipples. She can already feel the familiar heat of an orgasm building in her stomach, and her toes curl as George’s tongue starts to trace patterns over her clit. “Love being your good girl, George. Always wanna be your good girl.”

George hums as he sucks Y/N’s clit harder, fucking his fingers back into her cunt harder. Her walls are clenching and twitching around him, and George has to grind his hips against the bed to get some relief on his aching cock.

“So close George, fuck,” Y/N moans, her toes curling as George’s fingers brush her g-spot once again. She can feel shocks of pleasure radiating through her cunt as her orgasm approaches, and she starts to move her hips sloppily, chasing her climax. “Can I cum? Please Georgie, wanna cum. Wanna be a good girl,” she babbles, tugging on George’s hair.

George takes his mouth away from her cunt and starts to rub harsh circles on Y/N’s clit. “Go on, darling. Want you to be a good girl and cum for me.”

With a few more pumps of George’s fingers Y/N is cumming, her thighs trembling as pleasure washes over her in waves. She can see stars behind her eyes, and she doesn’t even realize that she’s moaning loudly until George is kissing her and the room gets infinitely quieter.

George rubs Y/N’s hips soothingly as she comes down from her high, his lips gently pressing to her neck in a series of slow kisses. “Do you have any idea how fucking hot you sound when you’re moaning like that for me?” he asks, pulling away so he can look into Y/N’s eyes.

“I could wager a guess,” Y/N responds playfully, pulling George down into a kiss. She slowly starts to sit up as George deepens their kiss, letting out a moan against his mouth. Y/N trails one of her hands down George’s chest to his crotch, palming his erection through the fabric of his sweatpants. “Is this another present in your pants for me?” she teases, nipping at George’s lips.

“Why am I marrying you again?” George teases as he pulls away so he can take his t-shirt off. He gets off the bed then and starts to get rid of his bottoms, pulling them down slowly to tease Y/N.

“Georgie,” Y/N whines at his teasing, jutting her lower lip out into a pout. She gets up onto her knees and wraps one of her hands around the back of George’s neck as the other reaches down to wrap around his cock. Y/N pulls George down into a hot kiss as she starts to stroke him, her thumb swirling around the tip to collect the precum dribbling out, helping her hand to glide easier.

George kicks his bottoms off as Y/N strokes him, moaning into her mouth. “Godric I missed this. Missed you, teacup. I can’t believe I get to have you for the rest of my life.” He crawls back onto the bed as he kisses Y/N again, sitting down with his back against the headboard. His hands settle on Y/N’s hips and he pulls her so that she’s straddling his waist. “You gonna show me how much you missed me too?”

Y/N reaches behind her to grip George’s cock and she lets out a whine as she teases her slit with the tip. She lets George pull her into another kiss as she starts to slowly sink down, but it falls apart as her hips move and her mouth drops open to let out a few pants. “So fucking full,” she groans as their thighs meet, her hips rocking slightly now that George is fully inside of her.

“Fuck your cunt is tight,” George moans, digging his fingers into Y/N’s hips. Her walls are pulsating around him and he can’t help but jut his hips upwards. Being buried inside of Y/N feels like pure ecstasy to George, and it takes all of his restraint not to just flip them over so he can fuck into her hard. “How do I feel, teacup?  You like the way my cock fills you up?”

“George,” Y/N moans as she starts to rock in his lap, moving her hips in tight circles as she grinds down into him. She can feel George deep inside of her, and the way his cock brushes her g-spot with every moment causes pleasure to radiate through her core. “Feels good, so good. Missed being,” Y/N pauses to moan as George starts to help guide the movements of her hips. “Missed being full.”

George presses his face into the crook of Y/N’s neck, letting out grunts against her skin as she starts to rock against him quicker. He starts to move his own hips up into her and her walls clamp around him even tighter. “You’re incredible,” he pants, pressing a kiss to her neck. George pulls away so he can look at Y/N leaning in to kiss her briefly. “Feel so fucking good, teacup. Riding me so well, Y/N. Being such a good girl for me.”

Y/N tips her head back and moans as she starts to move faster, desperately trying to cum again. Her clit is grinding against George with every movement and the way he’s stretching her out has gone straight to her head, and Y/N’s mind is clouded with pleasure. Maybe it’s because they haven’t been intimate like this in so long or because they’re engaged now but Y/N feels complete with George inside of her and she never wants it to end as she grinds down against him harder.

“Please George, please,” she begs breathily, digging her fingers into his shoulders.

“What do you want teacup?” George asks as he stats to thrust his hips up harder. Her walls twitch with every movement and he can already feel himself getting close to his release. “Whatever you want it’s yours.”

Y/N tilts her head forward so she can rest their foreheads together. She looks into George’s eyes and a shiver runs down her spine at how dark they are. “Just want you, Georgie. Please.”

George kisses Y/N desperately as he flips them over, pressing Y/N down into the mattress as he starts to slam his hips into her hard. “You’ve got me,” George promises as he brings one of his hands down to her core, starting to rub harsh circles on her clit. He braces himself on a hand above her shoulder and presses their foreheads together again so he can look into her eyes. “Forever, Y/N. I mean it this time. Forever.”

“Oh fuck, George,” Y/N moans as she cums, her legs winding around George’s hips to keep him in place, fucking her deep. Electric shocks of pleasure radiate through her body and her chest starts to heave with deep breaths as the pleasure washes over her.

Y/N’s walls tightening and pulsating around him pushes George over the edge, and he cums too, a cry of her name leaving his lips. He kisses her messily as his cock twitches inside of her, his hips slowly rolling to help them both of them through the tail ends of their orgasms.

“No,” Y/N whines when George moves to pull out, her legs tightening around his waist. “Not yet, George. Wanna be full with you for a bit longer.”

George chuckles and presses a kiss to Y/N’s sweaty forehead, carefully turning them on their sides so they can lay somewhat comfortably, his cock still buried deep inside of her. “Of course, teacup. Anything for you.”

“Forever, yeah?” she murmurs, clenching her walls around George.

He reaches a hand between them and presses the charms of Y/N’s necklace into her skin. “Forever.”

-

“You’re the most beautiful woman in the world, did you know that Mrs. Weasley?” George asks with a dopey grin as he twirls Y/N around in a circle.

They decided to keep their wedding small. Partially to distract from the fact that Y/N really has no friends or family to invite. But mostly because they don’t need all the theatrics. It’s the middle of June, and the backyard of the Burrow is draped in twinkling lights, making the warm air seem as if it’s glowing as everyone talks or eats or dances. George had suggested they get married as quick as humanly possible. He even tried to convince Y/N that they should just get a marriage license from the ministry and get married right in Shacklebolt’s office before they even had the chance to tell anyone they were engaged.

But Y/N insisted that they have some sort of ceremony with their family. June seemed like the perfect opportunity, since both Ginny and Hermione would be done with school and Fleur would have already given birth to the first Weasley grandchild. Y/N also thought it would give George some more time to deal with his grief.

After he proposed George really did start doing better. He started getting out of bed every day and taking proper care of himself. Y/N encouraged him to reconnect with his family and friends, and they even started leaving the flat together at least once a week. George started seeing a wizard therapist, and as he learned how to identify and deal with his emotions, Y/N watched the light slowly come back to his eyes. By Christmas he was back to joking around again, and he even charmed some mistletoe so that the people who met underneath it wouldn’t be able to move unless they kissed.

In the new year Y/N reenrolled in her Healer training program, and while being by himself again gave George a bit of anxiety, he packed a lunch for her and sent her off with a kiss on the cheek and a smile. And it worked out in the end, because George found himself so stir crazy without Y/N around that he managed to go back down in the joke shop. Y/N ended up finding him sitting in the office when she got home, some of Fred’s old notes clutched in his hand while he cried. She was worried that he would start to move backwards, but when George noticed her presence he opened up to her about how he was feeling instead of pushing her away. He managed to make the trek back down into the shop every day after that and now Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes will be back open for business on July first.

“You’re only saying that because it’s our wedding day, Georgie,” Y/N teases, titling her chin up so he’ll kiss her. George presses their lips together briefly and Y/N rests her head on his shoulder, watching Arthur twirl Molly around on the other side of the dancefloor.

George presses a kiss to the top of Y/N’s forehead before resting his cheek there. “You think that’ll be us in thirty years? Dancing like fools at our kids wedding?”

“I hope so. I reckon we’ll be those proper embarrassing parents, like the kinds who’s kids hate going out with them in public,” Y/N muses with a laugh.

“You mean like your parents?” George asks softly, pulling Y/N into his chest tighter. “Your cheeks were so red the first time I met them I thought you were gonna turn into a tomato.”

Y/N turns her face into George’s chest to hide the pink flush of her cheeks as the memory of George meeting her parents for the first time comes flooding back to the forefront of her mind.

-

“Not another one Mum, please,” Y/N begs before picking up a pillow off of the sofa and shoving her face into it to hide her embarrassment. All her mother does is grin as she comes back into the living room with another album full of pictures from Y/N’s childhood.

It’s easter break for Y/N, and it’s only been a few weeks since George and Fred had their grand exit from Hogwarts. While George has been busy getting ready for the joke shop’s grand opening, he agreed to come to dinner at Y/N’s house so he could finally meet her parents. He was a little nervous leading up to it, unsure of how Y/N’s parents would take to the fact that their daughter is dating a poor blood traitor who’s a recent school dropout, but the second he walked through the door all his worries washed away.

Y/N’s family manor is large, but yet somehow still feels like home. It’s bright and warm and feels lived in. Y/N’s mother had hugged him tightly as soon as he stepped through the door, and her dad playfully fell to his knees to bow down to George, making a joke about how gracious he was that someone fell in love with his smart ass daughter so he wouldn’t have to deal with her for the rest of his life. Y/N was standing just behind him looking as if she wanted the world to just open up and swallow her whole, but George found it hilarious and gave her dad a curtsey in response, telling him that her smart mouth would greatly reduce the dowry he’d be willing to pay.

Even Marjorie their house elf had teased Y/N a bit as she brought them all drinks in the parlor. She said something about how the photo Y/N keeps of George under her pillow certainly did not do him justice as he’s much more handsome in person and Y/N’s cheeks went so red it was as if she had spent hours outside in the cold. They had only been sitting down for a few minutes when the first photo album came out, and now George is about to start flicking through the fifth.

George laughs as he takes the book from Y/N’s Mum, trading her for the one he just finished flipping through. “Oh, come on, love. It’s only fair. Ginny tells you embarrassing stories about me all the time.”

“Yeah, pumpkin. It could be worse, I could have Marjorie go dig the old Muggle video player out and we could pop some of the home movies into it,” her Dad teases.

Y/N groans at that and she puts the pillow down so she can glare at her father. “Fine, fine, the photos can stay.” She leans her head against George’s shoulder as he starts to flip through the book, and she just barely sees her Mum bring the camera out from behind her back before she’s taking a picture. “Mum! We talked about this, you promised no photos!”

“Oh, come on, one photo never hurt anybody. You’ll be thankful I took this photo someday when you’re old and fondly reminiscing about your youth to your grandkids,” Y/N’s mother says, putting the camera down. “And it’ll be a nice visual aid when I tell the story about how embarrassed we made you tonight at your wedding.”

“Can we not with the wedding talk? George and I are barely eighteen.” Y/N hides her face in George’s neck, her cheeks heating up even further when George chuckles and turns his head so he can kiss her on the temple. Both of her parents let out an aw, and she picks up the nearest pillow to throw at them.

George laughs as Y/N faceplants onto her bed later that night. They’ve just finished dinner with her parents, and Y/N snuck them upstairs when her Mum went to go find another old photo album. “You regretting asking me to come to dinner?” he asks, sitting down next to Y/N.

She turns her head so she can glare at George, but it quickly turns soft when he starts to rub her lower back. “They promised me they’d be on their best behavior. Clearly they lied.”

“It’s cute, that they embarrass you or whatever. Clearly they love you a lot,” George responds softly, giving her a reassuring smile. “How much of our wedding do you think your Mum has planned?” he teases with a chuckle.

“Don’t joke about that, George. Knowing her the answer is probably the whole thing,” Y/N answers with a giggle. She rolls over onto her back so she can look up at George, letting one of her hands reach up to run through his hair. “I hope they didn’t scare you away with all of their baby photos.”

“Darling if Daphne Greengrass’ iciest glare doesn’t scare me a few photos of you with some missing teeth is nothing,” George reassures her. “Your Mum even had me mark some of my favorites for her to include in the wedding slideshow when you went to the loo.”

Y/N groans and places one of her pillows over her face, before deciding to hit George with it when he laughs at her pain.

-

“They were quite embarrassing. Though I wish we could have seen the slide show my Mum was gonna make. Bet your Mum would have added a fair few photos of you to the mix,” Y/N points out, grinning up at George.

George leans down and presses a kiss to Y/N’s forehead. “And half of them would have been of Fred I reckon, we were even harder to tell apart when we were babies.” He lets out a quiet sigh and kisses Y/N’s forehead again. “I wish he was here.”

“I know, Georgie.” Y/N squeezes George tighter for a moment, letting her eyes wander around the backyard. Ginny has a very excited Teddy Lupin on her shoulders, with both Harry and Andromeda laughing as the toddler’s face and hair changes into something new every few seconds. Bill and Fleur are in the corner trying to coax a restless Victorie to sleep and Charlie and Lee are taking shots together at one end of the bar. Percy is standing at the other end of it with Ron and Hermione, telling them a story about his new girlfriend, Audrey. “Percy did a pretty good job though, as best man. Don’t you think?”

Turns out the hardest decision in wedding planning was figuring out who the best man would be. Ginny was the natural choice for maid of honor, but it took George weeks to pick out his best man. Both Ron and Harry volunteered themselves for the role, and spent more time arguing with each other over why George should pick them rather than trying to convince George why they were the best choice. Charlie actually took himself out of the running, since he’d been Bill’s best man and didn’t want to take the opportunity away from another brother. And Lee was pretty chill about the whole thing, he was perfectly happy just to be the one in charge of the DJing.

Percy had been shocked when George asked him. Despite the fact that Percy had really tried to step back into the family after the war everyone could tell he still felt awkward. He was always the first to head home after family dinners, and the one who opted to sit on the single armchair rather than pile up with the others on one of the couches. At Christmas after he opened his Weasley sweater he excused himself to the bathroom, and they all pretended not to notice the red rims of his eyes when he came back. He always waited for someone to address him before he spoke, as if he thought no one cared about what he had to say. Most notably he always braced himself when someone brought up Fred, as if he was waiting for someone to shout at him for failing to save his brother.

But George had reassured him endlessly that he was the only person he wanted to stand up there with him while he promised Y/N forever. For one because Percy had been there for George during a time when he needed him most, and he gave George the push he needed to make things right with Y/N. George also ended up admitting later that him choosing Percy to be his best man would have annoyed Fred endlessly, and it made him feel like he was pulling one final prank on his brother.

George hums as he nods, letting go of Y/N briefly so he can twirl her around, before bringing her back against his chest. “Who knew he could be so funny? I’m pretty sure Ron nearly threw up from how hard he was laughing. It’s nice to see him be comfortable around everyone again. Feels like it did before, you know. That’s what I wanted, when I chose him. For him to feel like family again.”

“That’s actually really sweet of you, George. I’m sure Percy appreciates it,” Y/N murmurs, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Well it was either let him be the best man or name one of our kids after him, and I’m not sure I like the ring of Percy ll,” George says with a laugh.

Y/N rolls her eyes at that. “I’m revoking your naming privileges, George. You’re not allowed to name any of our eight ginger babies.”

“Eight? I thought we agreed on seven?” George asks with a soft chuckle.

“Well I decided I want eight. And a few hours ago, you stood up in front of our friends and family and promised to spend the rest of forever making me happy so it’s too late to take it all back,” Y/N states matter of factly, sticking her tongue out at George.

George shakes his head fondly and leans down to kiss Y/N slowly. “Fine, fine. Eight it is. Though we better start thinking about moving out of the flat then. Because if my height is anything to go by we’re gonna have some big babies, and I reckon we can only fit two or three of ‘em above Wheezes. And with the way you look tonight there’s no way there won’t be at least one more Weasley grandchild on the way when I’m done ravishing you.”

-

“How long do we have to wait?” George asks with a groan, flopping down onto the mattress.

“Three minutes. Same as when I told you before,” Y/N responds with an eye roll, throwing the empty pregnancy test box at George.

Despite George’s comments on their wedding night, it took them several months to even talk about getting pregnant. Once the joke shop reopened business was as good as ever. Even now eight months after reopening the store is still so busy that George has to sometimes eat his lunch while working the till or filling out paperwork. And once Y/N completed her Healer training she got stuck working the graveyard shift, so often the only time she and George saw each other was when one of them was coming home from work as the other was on their way to work.

Thankfully after a few months of hazing Y/N was switched to a much more reasonable shift, and she was back to spending most of her nights at home with George. It was then that they started discussing the next steps of their future, and both of them were set in the fact that they wanted to have a baby sooner rather than later. But they both decided to wait just a bit longer, until they had bought a house. Because even though they both love the flat above the joke shop, it’s just not big enough for a growing family.

Fred’s room hasn’t been touched since the Battle of Hogwarts. Y/N knows George has gone in there a few times, on the days when he misses his brother the most. But nothing has been moved or tidied up. There’re still shoes, and clothes and random papers all strewn about that George just hasn’t had the heart to get rid of. Y/N figures it helps George feel like Fred is still close by, so she doesn’t push him to clear it out. Except their bedroom in the flat was too small to have all the stuff needed for a baby, so they decided that a house would come before their family.

But as it turns out, there’s a possibility they’re happening at the same time. It took them a few months to find the right house, and with Y/N’s inheritance from her parents they were able to buy a nice piece of land out in the country with a beautiful house with enough room for the large family they both want. There’s a great little pond and a tire swing, and enough room for a Quidditch pitch too.

And Y/N had figured her missed period was due to the stress of the move. But a few days ago, she woke up from a dream covered in a cold sweat that made her start to think otherwise. Fred was there. He was in the field behind her and George’s new house running around in the warm summer sunshine, chasing after a little boy. And when the little boy finally turned to look at her, Y/N felt like she couldn’t breathe. His hair was the same color as her own, but his face was all George. The same deep brown eyes, the same light freckles dotted on the same pale skin. It was uncanny really, and when the boy finally noticed her he called her Mum and started running towards her. Just before Y/N could wrap her arms around him she woke up, her heart pounding and the image of the little boy still fresh in her mind. She decided then it was time to take a test.

“What a great way to spend the first night in our new house eh?” George asks with a nervous laugh, patting the spot on the mattress next to him.

“Certainly not the way I imagined us breaking in the new house,” Y/N responds with a laugh as she settles down on the mattress with him, the pregnancy test clutched in her hand. They barely have any furniture set up and their mattress is laying on the ground and yet they may need to start planning for a nursery.

George takes the pregnancy test from Y/N’s hand and puts it face down on the bed before he takes her face in his hands and kisses her softly. “I love you, teacup. And whether this test is positive or not I can’t wait to start our family.”

“I love you too, Georgie.” Y/N lets her eyes flutter shut as George presses a lingering kiss to her forehead, unable to stop herself from thinking about the time she and George first talked about having children.

-

“You still awake down there, teacup?” George whispers into the still air. He didn’t want to say anything and after falling asleep next to Y/N for the past year he’s gotten pretty good at telling if she’s asleep by the pace of her breathing. But the bandage wrapped around his right ear is making it hard to hear, and he needs to know if Y/N is still awake or not.

Y/N’s head pops up immediately and she looks over at George. “What’s wrong? Does your head hurt? It is bleeding?”

George chuckles and shakes his head, shutting his eyes when the room starts to spin. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Just an idiot, give me a minute.” Once George can no longer feel his heartbeat in his temples he opens his eyes and gives Y/N a reassuring smile. “Will you stop fussing? Mum’s done enough of that for you tonight.”

“I can’t help it, George. I thought you were gonna die.” Y/N’s voice cracks as the final word of her sentence falls from her lips, and she can feel the tears welling in her eyes.

The Battle of the seven Harrys had been a shitshow from the moment they left the ground. Y/N was riding a Thestral with Ron, and from the second they took off Death Eaters were everywhere. Luckily Ron is pretty talented with his defensive spell casting, and all Y/N really had to focus on was flying them back to the Burrow safely. Which was good, because the fight she’d gotten into with George earlier in the evening was still weighing heavily on her mind.

She wasn’t even supposed to be there. The original plan had been that Y/N would stay behind at The Burrow with Ginny and Molly, that way if anyone came back injured she’d be there to help assist Molly with any healing. But then Tonks announced that she’s pregnant and Y/N made Mad Eye Moody change the plan so Y/N could take her place during the actual mission. Which George was not happy about and they left the Burrow for Privet Drive still fuming from their fight.

“Teacup,” George coos, reaching out to stroke Y/N’s cheek. “You didn’t think you could get rid of me that easily, did you?” he teases, trying to get her to crack a smile. “Snivellous has wanted to take me out for years I reckon, it was only a matter of time before he tried.”

Y/N turns her head so she can kiss George’s palm lightly. “That’s not funny, George. You really could have died.”

“And you could have as well, Y/N,” George reminds her.

“Better me than Tonks,” Y/N mumbles, looking down at the floor.

“Don’t say that,” George responds firmly, gripping Y/N’s chin so he can make her look at him. There are tears spilling down her cheek, and George lets go of her chin so he can wipe them away with his thumb. Even in the dim light of the living room Y/N looks breathtakingly beautiful, and just the thought of living without her makes his stomach lurch. “Tonks is a big girl and would have been just fine going on the mission.”

“What if it was me? Hm?” Y/N asks, looking at George expectantly. “What if I was the pregnant one about to go on a mission that could kill me? Kill our unborn child? Wouldn’t you want someone to take my place?”

“Of course, I would, Y/N,” George chokes out around the few tears streaming down his cheeks. He’s not really sure when they started pouring out, but he imagines it was when Y/N mentioned their unborn child and death in the same breath. “But this is different.”

Y/N shakes her head. “How? How is Tonks being pregnant any different?”

“Because Tonks isn’t the person I want to spend the rest of my life with, Y/N. She’s not the person who I want to carry my children or raise my children with. It’s you.” George reaches down and grabs the charms of the necklace he gave Y/N, rubbing them between his thumb and his pointer finger. “When I gave you this necklace and promised you forever I meant it, teacup. I wanna marry you and have babies with you. And I can’t do that with you if you’re dead, can I?”

“You really think about all that stuff?” Y/N asks through her sniffles, her tone full of a mixture of surprise and disbelief. While she knows that her and George were both on the same page about starting a life together someday, she had no idea he was thinking that seriously about it. They’re just barely nineteen, and Y/N figured marriage and babies were far away in their future, so far away that they would never even cross George’s mind.

George motions for Y/N to come up and lay on the couch with him. “I’m not going to break. Get up here. I wanna hold you, teacup.” Once Y/N is settled on his chest, her head on his shoulder and their legs intertwined he continues. “Sometimes I can’t stop thinking about all that stuff. Like how we’re gonna get married someday. And live on a load of land somewhere. With some chickens and a dog. And a few ginger babies of course, can’t forget about them.”

Just George talking about them having children spikes Y/N’s heart rate, and she has to take a few deep breaths to try and calm herself down. “How many ginger babies are we gonna have?”

“Hm, I reckon maybe two or three? A boy first, and then a girl. And then I think another girl would be nice,” George explains, starting to slowly rub Y/N’s back. “Why, teacup? How many do you want?”

“At least four,” Y/N says seriously, tilting her head so she can look at George. “Two of each. Maybe even a set of twins. A mini Fred and George perhaps.”

George chuckles and leans down to kiss Y/N softly. “Really? You sure you could handle another set of me and Fred? We gave you quite a bit of hell back in our school days if you remember correctly.”

“Yeah and look at where we are now. Laying on a couch together talking about all the babies we’re gonna have,” Y/N points out with a chuckle. “Besides can you imagine McGonagall’s face when two mini versions of you show up at Hogwarts one day? Bet she’d quit on the spot.”

“Oh come on, good old Minnie loved us. And let’s not forget you caused a bit of trouble as well, Y/N. Just the thought of planting a garden still gives me nightmares after you dropped that load of Dragon Dung fertilizer on Fred and I,” George reminds her with a laugh.

“And you made my hair turn yellow for weeks! And made my tongue nearly explode,” Y/N counters. “You want me to list more? Because I can list more.”

“No it’s okay, I get the point.” George just sits there quietly for a moment, enjoying the feeling of Y/N’s weight on top of him. “Just promise me you’ll be careful out there, yeah? Can’t have our four ginger babies without you, Y/N.”

Y/N pulls George’s mouth down to hers again for a few moments. “You too, George. You’re kind of the whole ginger in the situation, so you’re pretty essential in the mix.”

“I promise,” George mumbles, pressing one more kiss to Y/N’s mouth.

-

“You think it’s been three minutes yet?” George whispers, bringing Y/N’s mind back to the present.

“Probably,” she responds, looking up at George. Y/N reaches up and touches his cheek softly. “You wanna do the honors?”

George reaches his hand out and grabs the pregnancy test, keeping it flipped upside down. “How about we look together?” When Y/N nods George brings the test in between them and he uses his free hand to grab one of hers. “On the count of three, yeah? One, two three.”

As soon as the last number leaves George’s mouth he flips the test over to look at the results. There’s two dark pink lines staring back at them, and her and George look back up at each other.

“What did the two lines mean again?” Y/N asks.

George frowns. “I was gonna ask you the same thing.”

They both start to throw their blankets and pillows away, trying to find where the box landed after Y/N threw it at George a few minutes ago. “Why didn’t you just buy the one with the words? You had to get the one you need a diagram to figure out.”

“I was overwhelmed, okay? I’ve never been in a muggle pharmacy before and there was like 25 different tests and I couldn’t tell the difference between them all and I just grabbed one at random,” George huffs. He feels his fingers skim over the cardboard box and his eyes light up as he grabs it. “Aha! Here it is!” George skims his eyes over the directions on the back a few times to make sure he fully understands them. “Two lines means pregnant.”

They both let out a small gasp as their eyes drop back down to the test still clutched in Y/N’s hand. The two lines look even more defined now that they know what it means, and when they make eye contact again there are tears pooling in both of their eyes.

“We’re pregnant?” Y/N asks breathily.

“Well I don’t know how pregnant I am. But you’re definitely pregnant,” George teases with a grin.

Y/N rolls her eyes and shoves George’s shoulder before she grabs it and pulls him into a kiss. “Can’t believe I’m having a baby with an idiot like you,” she mumbles between kisses.

“And I can’t believe I’m having a baby with a meanie like you,” George responds playfully, placing his hand on Y/N’s stomach. He spreads his fingers and presses down lightly, as if there’s something there for him to feel already. “I love you,” he murmurs, resting his forehead against Y/N’s.

“You talking to me or the baby?” she asks quietly, placing her hand on top of George’s.

“Both.”

-

Fred Weasley ll comes into the world amidst a flurry of chaos, and it only feels right considering who his namesake is.

The day started out like any other. With her maternity leave in full effect, Y/N decided to head to the joke shop with George. While she can’t do much of anything besides sit behind the till and ring customers out, it made her feel good to be helpful rather than just sitting around the house twiddling her thumbs waiting for George to get home. And she knew George liked the fact that he could keep an eye on her throughout the day.

The pain started not too long after opening. At first she just passed it off as normal pregnancy pains, because she was nearly full term and she couldn’t remember the last time she didn’t have a dull ache radiating through some part of her body. But by midafternoon the pain was radiating through her back and down into her pelvis and not even sitting down eased it. She tried to hide it from George, not wanting him to go into full panic mode during the workday. But then he noticed her wincing as she sat back down after lunch and George started keeping an annoyingly close eye on her.

And then her water broke. George was cleaning up around the checkout counter and some dust that had been kicked up irritated Y/N’s nose and she couldn’t help but sneeze hard. When the liquid first started to leak out she was mortified, figuring she’d just pissed herself. But then she stood up and a large flush of liquid came out along with the largest pain she’d ever felt in her lower half. Y/N and George had just stared at each other for a moment, before realization hit them both. Clearly this baby was coming and coming soon.

George had one of the shop employees send an owl to his Mum while he helped Y/N up the stairs, wanting to Floo them over to St. Mungo’s as quickly as possible. Every few steps they’d had to stop so Y/N could breathe through a contraction, and by the time they reached the fireplace in their old flat George was surprised the baby hadn’t slipped out yet. Except when he reaches into the bowl on the mantle to grab some Floo Powder his fingers didn’t find anything.

They’d had to shuffle their way through Diagon Alley to use the public Floo at the Leaky Cauldron, and by the time they reached St. Mungo’s Y/N was already on the verge of giving birth and both she and George were soaked to the bone from the torrential downpour the sky unleashed halfway through their journey.

Baby Fred was born as thunder started to rumble, and he let out his first cry just as a flash of lightening came crashing down. Y/N is sure both she and George were crying harder than the rain that was going on outside. Fred’s eyes were already open when the Healer placed him on Y/N’s chest, and he was blinking up at her with wide brown eyes. He was already the spitting image of his Father, but the tufts of hair coming out of his head more resembled the color of Y/N’s hair. And while Y/N has never been particularly confident in the magic of Divination, she felt deep in her chest that he was the little boy she’d seen in her dream.

“What’s on your mind, Dad?” Y/N asks George quietly with a grin. It’s well past midnight, and little baby Fred is sleeping soundly against Y/N’s chest. George has been sitting in the chair next to Y/N’s hospital bed for the past hour watching their son’s chest rise up and down slowly, a look of concentration on his face.

“You sure it’s okay we named him after Fred?” George asks, looking up at Y/N. “We could have named him after your Dad. I didn’t even think about that. I should have thought about that.”

Y/N chuckles and pats the edge of her bed carefully, inviting George to come and sit with her. “Can I tell you about a dream I had? I think it might make you feel better.”

“Was it a sexy dream?” George asks with a raise of his eyebrows as he comes and sits down with Y/N. He rests one of his hands on Fred’s back, lightly stroking it with his thumb.

“No, it was not a sexy dream you oaf,” Y/N responds with an eye roll. “It was a couple nights before we moved, before I knew I was pregnant. It was summertime, and I was out in the backyard at the house. And Fred was there. He was chasing this little boy around in that field, the one we turned into the Quidditch pitch. And the little boy, he had my color hair but his face, his face was all you George. And then he called me Mum, and ran towards me, but I woke up before he got to me.”

George just sits there for a moment, letting Y/N’s words sink in. He suddenly feels overcome with emotion as he thinks about what she said, and he has to wipe away a few of the tears that escape his eyes. “That’s funny you say that, because I had a similar dream to that the night we found out you were pregnant.”

Y/N raises her eyebrows as she looks at George. “Really? What happened?”

“I was back at the Burrow. It was empty, quiet. But I could hear a creaking noise. And I followed it all the way up the stairs, to Fred and I’s old room. It looked the same, except there was a rocking chair in the corner. And Fred was sitting in it, and he was rocking back and forth, holding a baby. We made eye contact, but he didn’t say anything. He just gave me a little wink and then I woke up.”

“I don’t know a lot about divination or dream analysis. I don’t really know if I believe in any of it either. But I have a feeling we had those dreams for a reason,” Y/N explains, reaching up to cup one of George’s cheeks. “Like that was Fred, I dunno. Hand picking his name sake or something. Someone just as mischievous as him. A little pay back for Percy being your best man, perhaps?”

George laughs quietly and reaches a hand up to grab Y/N’s intertwining their fingers and giving them a soft squeeze. “You know what, teacup. I think you’re right. I have a feeling we’re in for a wild ride. And I can’t wait.”

-

And what a wild ride it is.

By the time George and Y/N are celebrating their 10-year wedding anniversary their house is steadily filling up with kids and with all the trouble they get into it’s a good thing George pushed Y/N to fulfill her dreams of being a Healer. It seems every day at least one of their kids is getting injured in some way: a scraped knee, a bump on the head, a bit of smoke inhalation from a whizbang George let Fred set off inside of the house. With how wild and unpredictable their kids are every day is an adventure, even the most mundane family days always seem to end up with something unexpected getting thrown into the mix.

“Mum! Mum! Can you open this for me? Please?” Fred asks excitedly, holding a candy bar up to Y/N’s face.

She eyes him wearily, taking it from him slowly. “Did your Dad say you could have this?”

Fred grins up at Y/N, and he looks so much like his Dad that it melts her heart. “Well he didn’t say no.” When Y/N narrows her eyes at him he lets out a giggle. “He was in the middle of filling something out and he told me to ask you.”

It’s a Saturday, so the whole family is at the joke shop together. Once Fred was born George hated having to leave him and Y/N at home when he went into the shop, so she started tagging along with the baby. It was a nice way for them to spend time together as a family, and when Y/N went back to work and the weekend became their only full family days it seemed natural for her and Fred to tag along with George to work. Now several years and a few more kids later, it’s still Y/N’s favorite family tradition.

“And so, you decided to ask me if you could have the candy bar, by asking me to open it?” Y/N asks with a laugh.

“Well if you said yes to opening it, that kinda already answers the whole, can I have it question,” Fred reasons.

Y/N rolls her eyes fondly and tears open the candy bar. “Nine years old and you’re already trying to out smart me. I’m so proud of you.” She leans down to press a kiss to his messy hair before handing him the sweet. “Share that with your sister, yeah? It’s 10 am I don’t need you on a full sugar rush already.”

“Thanks Mum!”

Fred runs off just as George comes up and he watches his son disappear with a fond shake of his head. “Oh to be young and have energy,” he muses with a grin, wrapping his arms around Y/N’s waist.

“Please, you still have plenty of energy left. Or have you forgotten how we got into this mess?” Y/N asks with a grin, pointing down at her bump. In just a few short weeks their family will be growing by two more, and Y/N is already exhausted just thinking about having to run after five kids.

“Oh trust me, I definitely remember how I got us into that mess,” George responds cheekily, leaning down to kiss Y/N sweetly. Luckily the store has been pretty slow so far, and they can spend the next few moments moving their lips together softly, just enjoying being in each other’s presence.

“Ew, gross,” Freya giggles, standing up on her tiptoes so she can peer at her parents over the checkout counter.

Y/N pulls away from George’s mouth with a sigh, turning her head to look at their youngest. All that’s visible over the counter is her wide eyes and the mess of fiery red curls on the top of her head. “Can we help you with something, nugget?”

Freya’s head disappears then and a few seconds later she reappears next to George’s leg, raising her arms up and bouncing on her toes. “Up please!”

“Ah, the Queen has made her demands!” George announces playfully. He gives Y/N a wink before letting her go, and he leans down to grab Freya, placing her on his shoulders. “Is this high enough for you, my Queen?” he asks, tickling her sides lightly.

“Daddy!” Freya squeals between her giggles, trying to get away from George’s attack. “No more, no more!”

George chuckles and gives her one more tickle. “Alright, alright, no more tickles.” The bell above the door jingles then and George leans down to give Y/N one final kiss. “Duty calls. I love you, teacup.”

“Love you too, Georgie.” Y/N reaches up and tugs on one of Freya’s curls. Despite the fact that she’s only three and has quite a bit of hair they’ve yet to cut any of it, and Y/N watches the long curl bounce back into place when she lets it go. “See you in a bit, nugget.”

Freya gives a little salute as George starts to head towards the customer before tangling her hands in his hair and pulling on them as if she were pulling on reins. “Horsey, horsey!”

George actually starts to move as if he were galloping, and Y/N shakes her head fondly as their daughter starts to laugh.

The store starts to pick up then, and for a few hours it seems like there’s a never-ending stream of people filtering through the door. Every once in a while Y/N gets a glimpse of George over the crowds of people, since Freya is still happily sitting on his shoulders, and every now and again Y/N watches the crowd part as Fred or Roxanne run through it.

They’ve just opened back up after shutting down for lunch, and Y/N has her back to the shop as she sorts through some of the mail. She turns around at the sound of someone clearing their throat and her heart drops into her stomach.

“Daphne. Hi,” she greets quietly, stepping back up to the counter.

It’s been over a decade since she last saw her old best friend, but the memory of their last conversation comes flooding back to her as if it took place yesterday.

-

“I can’t believe you’re moving in with George Weasley,” Daphne muses with a grin as she watches Y/N pack a few things away.

It’s been just over a month since they graduated from Hogwarts, and with her Healer training starting soon, Y/N decided to take George up on his offer to move into the flat above the joke shop with him and Fred. Now that they’re both transitioning into adulthood, their free time to spend together is sparse, and even though taking this next step is scary Y/N can’t wait to be officially living with George.

“I know, right? This time last year all I could think about was getting revenge on him and Fred for turning my hair yellow. And now all I can think about is the fact that I get to wake up next to him every morning,” Y/N admits with a soft blush.

“Just George and his little teacup,” Daphne teases, laughing wildly when Y/N throws a pillow at her.

Ginny had once jokingly suggested Y/N get a teacup pin after she noticed the teapot pin Y/N bought for George, since they’re always together and Y/N is so much smaller than George. After that day George’s new nickname for Y/N became teacup. And while she pretends that it annoys her, deep down she actually really loves it.

“You’re one to talk, Daph. It’s only what? A month until the wedding?” Y/N points out with a laugh. The smile on Daphne’s face falters and Y/N gives her a look. “What’s up? You’re not getting cold feet, are you?”

Daphne shakes her head as she sits up, giving Y/N a look. “No, of course not. I like to give Marcus a lot of shit pretty much all the time, but I really do love him. There’s just something I wanna talk to you about.”

“Oh?” Y/N asks quietly, sitting down across from her. There are very few things Daphne gets flustered over, and with the look she has on her face Y/N can tell she’s about to say something serious.

“You um. You can’t come. To the wedding,” Daphne stutters out, casting her gaze downwards. “Adrian said he’s not coming if you do and he’s Marcus’ best friend and I just want our wedding to be perfect and I know he’ll be upset if Adrian doesn’t come.”

Y/N can feel tears start to form in the corners of her eyes and she quickly tries to blink them away. “What? Daphne we’ve been best friends since we were eleven. You’re not going to be upset that I’m not there?”

“No of course I am! Y/N you know you’re like a sister to me. But Marcus is going to be my husband and it’s my job to do everything in my power to make him happy,” Daphne responds, reaching out to grab Y/N’s hand.

But Y/N pulls away and stands up. “Daph, it’s your wedding day too. You should have a say in who gets to be there.” Y/N pauses and just looks at Daphne, thinking about all the things they’ve been through together over the past seven years. “You’re really going to choose Adrian over me?”

“You chose George over us,” Daphne reminds her, finally making eye contact with Y/N again.

“That was different Daphne and you know that. I put space between me and Adrian because he was breaking the boundaries of our friendship and it was making George uncomfortable. And it was clearly the right decision since he kissed me and tried to get me to leave George at graduation.” Y/N sighs and crosses her arms over her chest. “George didn’t force me to do anything, Marcus is clearly forcing you to do this.”

Daphne rolls her eyes. “Marcus isn’t forcing me to do anything, I’m just doing my duty as his future wife.”

“That’s a bunch of crap and you know it. If Marcus really loved you he wouldn’t let some stupid drama from school get in the way of you being just as happy as he is,” Y/N responds firmly.

Daphne stands up then, her expression angry. “Don’t act so high and mighty, Y/N. Just because you have ambitions outside of being someone’s wife or a mother doesn’t mean you’re any better than I am.”

“Well at least when I get married I’ll be an equal in the relationship, rather than my husband’s little pet for him to boss around,” Y/N spits.

“You know what? Fuck you. You’re not welcome at my wedding. Or in my life in general.” Daphne grabs her bag and starts to storm out of Y/N’s bedroom.

“Who said I wanted to be in your life anyway?” Y/N shouts at Daphne’s back, listening to the sound of the front door slamming shut echo through the house.

-

“Oh. Um, hi, Y/N. I didn’t know that you worked here,” Daphne responds awkwardly, placing the few things in her arms down on the counter.

“Oh, I don’t work here, not really. I just come in on Saturdays, with the kids. It’s a good way for us to spend time together as a family.” Y/N starts to key the products into the register, not really sure what to say. The air between her and Daphne is awkward, and Y/N can see Marcus fidgeting a few feet behind Daphne, looking at some things on a shelf with a little boy. “These for your son?”

Daphne spares a glance over her shoulder at her son and Marcus, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “No, they’re for Adrian’s son. It’s his birthday today, we’re having dinner with them tonight. Although MJ does love his fair share of Weasley products.” She pauses, letting her eyes flick down to Y/N’s bump for a moment. “Is that your first?”

“Four and five actually,” Y/N responds with a laugh. She gestures to where George is standing talking with one of the employees, Freya back on his shoulders. “That’s number three over there, Freya and funnily enough she also happens to be three. And over there,” Y/N pauses gesturing to the pygmy puff cage where a little girl with curly hair the same color as Y/N’s is happily petting a little black puff. “is Roxanne, number two. She just turned six and has spent the past few weeks trying to convince us to let her take home another pygmy puff.”

Y/N scans the store for a moment, trying to find Fred. When her eyes finally land on him he has his knees hooked around a rung of the ladder George uses to reach products on the upper shelves, and he’s hanging upside down with a toothy grin. “Fred Weasley ll you get off that ladder right now! You’ve already cracked your skull open once this year and I am not cleaning up anymore of your blood.” Fred laughs wildly as he climbs down, and Y/N shakes her head as she looks back to Daphne.

“That’ll be Fred, our oldest. He’s only a few years off from Hogwarts, and is it bad if I say I’m looking forward to it just a little bit?” Y/N asks with a small laugh.

Daphne laughs as well, grabbing her wallet to pay for their stuff. “Oh trust me, I’m right there with you. I don’t know how you do it, we’ve just got MJ and I feel like I can barely keep up with him. I’m looking forward to the peace and quiet when he’s off at school.”

“George is a great help, I don’t think I could do it without him. He loves being a Dad, and he’s pretty good at it too.” Y/N hands Daphne her bag and gives her a final smile. “Thanks for coming by. It was nice to see you.”

Roxanne comes up just as Daphne and Marcus leave the store with their son and pulls up a chair so she can climb up onto the counter, being careful not to let the black pygmy puff on her head fall off. “Who was that, Mummy?”

“Just a girl I was friends with, back when I was at Hogwarts,” Y/N responds sadly, tucking a stray curl behind Roxanne’s ear.  

“Oh. You’re not friends anymore?” Roxanne asks with a frown.

Y/N shakes her head and leans forward to press a kiss to her daughter’s forehead. “No, not anymore. But that’s okay. We used to have loads and loads of fun together, and now I get to have loads and loads of fun with you and your siblings and your Dad.”

“I can’t wait to make tons of friends when I’m at Hogwarts. It’s so not fair that Freddie gets to go sooner than me.” Roxanne pauses, giving Y/N a cheeky grin. “Do you think if I snuck on the train they’d just let me stay?”

“Hmm, I don’t know love. Why don’t you give it a try when it’s time for Freddie to go?”

Roxanne giggles as Y/N presses a kiss to her forehead and she gives her mother an excited look when she pulls away. “Oh trust me, I’m planning on it.”

-

“You think she’s going to try and sneak onto the train?” George asks, leaning over to whisper in Y/N’s ear.

They’re heading towards the entrance to Platform 9 and ¾’s to send Fred off on his very first train ride to Hogwarts. Despite the fact that it’s been over two years since Roxanne first divulged her plan to sneak to Hogwarts with her older brother, she still hasn’t forgotten about it, and she had reminded Y/N and George of her plan last night when they tucked her into bed.

“I dunno, but I don’t think it would be a bad thing to keep an extra close eye on her,” Y/N responds with a chuckle. Roxanne and Freya are walking out in front of everyone, holding hands and twirling each other around. Their curls flounce as they move, and as if she can tell they’re talking about her, Roxanne looks back at her parents and gives them a wink.

Fred is in the middle, pushing his cart along all by himself. He insisted that he could handle it on his own, since he’s going to be off at Hogwarts, and even though Y/N can tell he’s struggling a bit the grin on his face keeps her from intervening. Not that she or George would be much help. Archer and Leo, their twins, are two now, and George has one attached to each leg, giggling wildly as he walks and Y/N has a baby wrap tied around her torso, with their three-month-old daughter Scarlet laying in it fast asleep.

When they reach the wall between platforms nine and ten, Roxanne and Freya pause, looking back at their parents.

“Can we go?” Roxanne asks hopefully, mischief in her eyes.

George laughs and shakes his head. “Let your Mum and Freddie go first, yeah? You two can go through with me after.”

Roxanne pouts but steps aside, nonetheless, pulling Freya to her side as Y/N comes to stand next to Fred. She puts one of her hands on his shoulder, and the other on the handle of the cart. “Ready?” she asks, looking at her son.

“More than ready,” Fred responds with a laugh.

They push through the barrier together, and the platform looks just the same as Y/N remembers. It’s bustling with people as per usual and as George and the girls join them they navigate through the crowd to try and find a spot to say goodbye.

Once Fred’s things are loaded onto the train, Freya and Roxanne are the first to hug him goodbye, but they’re both too entranced by the Platform and the train to really care that they won’t see him for the next few months. Archer and Leo are too busy chasing each other around the small area to care, but Fred grabs them both and presses a kiss to their heads before letting them toddle off after each other again.

George pulls him into a hug first, and his hands shake as a few tears slip down his cheeks. “Love you so much, bud. You’re gonna have so much fun, I promise. Your Mum tried to take it out, but I slipped that box of Wheeze products into your trunk this morning. Just send an owl when you’re getting low and I’ll send more.” He pulls away so he can look at Fred, and the bright look in his eyes reminds him so much of him and Fred when they were that age he has to take a moment to calm himself down. “I’m handing the prank torch down to you, and I know it’ll be in good hands.”

By the time Y/N is pulling Fred into a hug there are tears fully falling down her cheeks and they fall into his hair when she brings him in as close as she can. “Don’t get into too much trouble, yeah? But have fun and learn a lot, that’s kinda the whole point.” She pulls away to press a lingering kiss to his forehead and runs her hand through his wild hair. “And don’t be too hard on the Slytherins, yeah? Your future wife might just be one of them.”

“Ew,” Fred responds, scrunching up his nose.

Y/N laughs and presses one more kiss to his forehead. “I love you, Fred. Write loads, yeah?”

“All the time,” Fred promises. He reaches into the wrap to give his littlest sister a kiss on the head before he steps back to look at both of his parents. “Bye, love you guys.”

“Hang on, one more thing.” Fred pauses and looks up at George, watching as he takes the teapot pin off of the lapel of his jacket. “A piece of me and mum for you to have with you, yeah?”

It’s the first time Y/N has seen George without it and the tears streaming down her face fall harder as he pins it to their son’s sweater. Almost subconsciously she reaches up to grab at the charms of her necklace, letting their familiar texture soothe her as she watches Fred climb up onto the train.

Forever seemed like a long time when Y/N and George first promised it to each other on that journey back to Hogwarts all those years ago. But now, watching that same train carry their first born away as their other kids laugh and play around them it just doesn’t seem like enough.

[montrealmadison]

drink deeply

or, as they say at samwell, “penitus potes.” shitty gives the toast at jack and bitty’s wedding. for @zimbitsweddingofficial and day two of zimbits wedding week: the wedding itself!

just for fun, a draft version of the beginning of this fic with lardo, ransom, and holster’s “helpful” edits can be found via google doc here. hope y’all enjoy! <3

Good evening, everyone! On behalf of Jack and Eric, thank you all so much for being here tonight, and welcome to what could very well be the most highly anticipated wedding reception of 2019. I mean, this party was planned by the likes of Suzanne Bittle and Alicia Zimmermann. We are in for a treat, folks.

Before we get to all that, I’d also like to extend a particular welcome to those in attendance who are part of the playing, coaching, and/or office staff of the Providence Falconers. Glad you could all make it this evening; I know this past week was a little bit busy for you guys.

[Insert appropriate pause and gesture to the punch bowl, which on closer inspection is actually—oh yeah—the Stanley Cup the Falcs won three days ago. Hold for inevitable applause, general hysteria, and/or hooting/hollering from Tater.]

For those of you who don’t know me, I’ve been trying to decide whether I should introduce myself by my first name, which will inevitably get me mocked by my friends until the end of time, or by my nickname, which will definitely scandalize anyone who has not spent a significant amount of time around twenty-year-old guys who play hockey. However, as I look around the room, I’m realizing that most of you probably either raised, spent significant time around, or were once a twenty-year-old guy who played hockey. To the rest of you, I am profoundly sorry.

So, hi! I’m Shitty, and I’m Jack’s best man.

read more below or on ao3

Being someone’s best man, as I’ve realized over the last few months, should really come with a playbook or an instruction manual or something, because it’s a task unlike any other you’ll ever take on. In addition to being a friend, you have to be a confidant, an expert at bachelor-party debauchery (I think my college resume definitely prepared me for this part) and someone who’s not afraid to step in to make last-minute decisions so the grooms don’t have to. You also have to do all of these things without getting fired from your job or stepping on anyone’s toes, up to and including: the couple getting married, the other people in the wedding party, the grooms’ parents, the wedding planner, and most importantly, Moomaw, whose word is law around here. 

(Seriously. She made the pie tonight, people. Bow down to her.)

But as much as the role can feel a little bit like you’re being thrown in at the deep end, it also definitely comes with its perks. Tonight, I have both the honor and the challenge of somehow summarizing how much I love Jack and Eric in a speech that is heartfelt and witty yet also brief so that we can get to the aforementioned pie as quickly as possible. If you’re still following me here, that is a tall order—but here goes nothing!

I met Jack Zimmermann on our first day of freshman year at Samwell, during the bright, hot summer of 2011. I was participating in the time-honored tradition of moving into a dorm on the third floor of a building with no elevator and no air conditioning in the middle of August. It builds character, or so the good folks in Samwell administration probably tell themselves. Anyway, athletes got to move in early for preseason, so I was expecting to be one of the only guys on the floor for at least a couple days. I was just carrying the last box into my room when the door next to mine opened and—well, you can probably guess who walked out.

Now, I grew up in Boston, which means I also grew up around hockey culture. I’d heard the news that Jack was coming to Samwell, so I knew who he was when he stepped into the hall in that same vague way that you kind of-sort of recognize celebrities hustling down the street or through the airport with their sunglasses on. And he gave me that same vibe—“I know you know who I am, and I’d very much like not to be bothered about it.”

Here is something that will not shock you if you know us: Jack was the first friend I made in college. Here is something that might shock you if you know us: That definitely doesn’t mean we were friends at first. By his own admission, Jack wasn’t at Samwell to make friends at all. He told me, much later, that he was only planning to go to play hockey, get his life back on track, and keep his head down as much as possible.

So in retrospect, maybe it was an unlucky thing for Jack that he ran into the one person who wasn’t going to let him do that.

Because no matter who you are or where you’re from, freshman year of college breeds a unique kind of terror I’ve never felt anywhere else. There’s a lot of pressure to completely remake yourself, to become the person you maybe never could have been in your hometown. By coming to Samwell, I wanted to be a different kind of kid than the one that Andover had raised. Jack wanted to be a different kind of kid than the one he’d spent twenty years telling himself he had to be. As much as neither of us wanted to admit it, we both wanted similar things out of our college experience, and we needed a support system to do that. And so, however begrudging the two of us were about it at first, we started to bond more and more.

It wasn’t always easy. For one thing, my idea of a good time was a lot louder than Jack’s—who enjoyed such scintillating pursuits as “watching golf” and “going to bed at a reasonable hour”, neither of which were quite in my vocabulary at the ripe old age of eighteen. Also, if it’s before six in the morning, he has a hard time remembering to speak English, which used to make for a lot of stilted conversations between the two of us as we walked to early morning practice. (On a completely unrelated note, the first and probably only thing I ever learned in Québécois is how to swear.)

I don’t remember the exact tipping point at which Jack and I really became friends; I think it was more of a quiet acknowledgment that we liked having each other around, that we balanced each other out in ways that neither of us initially knew we needed. What I do know is that, slowly but surely, I started to get glimpses of the Jack that exists off the ice. And so began one of the most extraordinary journeys of my life, because the only thing crazier than knowing Jack Zimmermann is actually knowing Jack.

Here are some things that I’ve learned in the process: He’s on his third pair of neon yellow running shoes, which he buys specifically because the color makes him happy. Before either of us tried Eric’s pies, the only thing that could make him cheat on a meal plan was a sleeve of Double Stuf Oreos. (Don’t ask him how to eat them correctly unless you’re interested in a twenty-minute speech on exactly how they have to be pulled apart.) And he loves Captain America, although it is the opinion of this best man that America’s ass has nothing on his hockey butt. Have you seen that thing? It has Internet fans in at least two different countries. 

But I digress.

In our sophomore year we lived next to each other again, by choice instead of by chance, in what I can only describe as the pinnacle of American college living: the Samwell Men’s Hockey Haus. We used to pull the comforter off of one of our beds and climb out onto the roof and clear off the snow so we could share the blanket, look up at the stars, and listen to the bass thumping through the wall of the house next door. On nights when other things felt confusing, this one part of my life was clear. There’s something about sitting out under the open sky that just makes it easier to talk to a guy, you know? 

Some nights the conversations we had were funny. Some nights they were serious. Some nights we said nothing at all, just sat secure in the knowledge that someone cared enough to exist alongside us for a little while. There was always an unspoken agreement between us on nights like these: I got your back. For me, Jack’s friendship became a rock, a refuge. It’s something that I came to depend on that year and still do to this day.

As for the content of those late-night conversations—well, some things do have to stay between friends. I’m sure Jack will agree, especially because he has so graciously allowed me to get up here and lovingly roast him just a little bit.

So let’s skip ahead again, to yet another August, the start of our junior year, and the arrival on the scene of one Eric Bittle. This kid burst into our ranks like a ray of Southern sunshine and turned pretty much everything upside down in the process. In the first five minutes of being in the Haus, he somehow made us a pie? Folks, I'm not kidding, it was the best thing I’ve ever eaten. We were a bunch of guys who didn’t know what we were missing until we had it, and let me tell you, it was one hell of a semester after that. In pretty short order we had curtains on the windows and baked goods on the counters, and Samwell Men’s Hockey started to become not only a team but a family.

That was off the ice, at least. On it, things were a little more complicated. As our dear friend and former goalie John Johnson said to me, Jack and Eric hadn’t gone through their character development yet—whatever that means. 

Take our third or fourth practice with the full team that year, for example. It had gone… uh. Poorly, would be a word. Later that night I heard some rustling on the roof outside, and God knows I was willing to do just about anything but my homework—so I stuck my head out the window and there was Jack, watching the stars. I asked him if he wanted a buddy, and he said alright, so I slid out and sat down next to him.

That was pretty usual for us at this point. What wasn’t usual was the topic of conversation. The first thing Jack said to me was, “Bittle’s gonna get eaten alive when our schedule starts.” (Remember, people, they’re married now!) The second was, “I want to help.”

Here’s another thing about Jack: Underneath the veneer is a guy who just cares so intensely it’d shock you if you knew nothing else about him. It shocked me a little that day. I think it even shocked him to admit it, to the point where I had to say, “Jack, it’s not a criminal offense to care about other people. Even if it feels like you’re doing it for yourself.”

So he helped. He offered an olive branch, and Bits took him up on it. I’d hear the two of them get up in the morning, hours before the rest of us had to be at Faber, for checking practice. None of the rest of us ever knew exactly what went down, but one thing was for sure—Eric put in a ton of work to overcome some of the fears that had followed him to college. He got better, and Jack relaxed. The two of them really started working as a team, and things started looking up from there.

The day that they told us they were dating was pretty amazing. Eric is so full of light no matter how bleak a situation may look, but that day he was literally almost glowing. And I’ve seen Jack in moments after victory and loss, at his best and at his worst. But I’ve never seen a Jack who was so happy, possessed of such confidence in a decision he’d made, as I saw him that day at brunch. And that’s when I knew this relationship was really special. 

From there, many of you know the story. You watched it play out on ESPN and social media and the front pages of every single gossip magazine on the supermarket shelves. But if you’re sitting here with us tonight, you also watched it play out between Jack and Eric themselves. You’ve watched them handle expectations as a united front. You’ve watched their unfailing dedication to each other while they navigate the pressure of being some pretty big firsts. You know that, behind the scenes, these are two incredibly genuine people who  bring out the best in each other and are dedicated to doing that every single day.

In the last four years, I’ve watched Eric become self-possessed and confident because he was given the space to do so. In the last six years, I’ve watched Jack grow from a kid with a chip on his shoulder and something to prove to a guy who finally believes that he deserves all the good things the world has given him and then some. If you take nothing else away from this speech, I want you to know this: I’m incredibly proud to call myself a friend to both of them.

Jack, Bits, you’re always gonna be my brothers, my best friends, and two of the finest damn men I’ve ever had the pleasure to know. I wish you both a long and happy marriage. Take care of each other, be good to each other, and never forget where you started—as a team.

So please join me in raising your glasses, everyone, and as they say at Samwell—penitus potes to Jack and Eric!

[darriness]

Fic A Day - July 2021 Edition - Day 1 - Benevolent/Bow

Author: darriness

Word Count: 753

Summary: Matty's quitting

Author's Note: (this AN is long, but they aren't always this long - or even there at all!)

If you're new to Fic A Day here are a few things to keep in mind: - Each fic is inspired by a word - The title of each fic is the word that inspired the fic - The series is nonlinear which means I jump around the timeline depending on what the word for that day inspires - I sometimes connect or do sequels/prequels to events but for example one day Kurt and Blaine's kids may be in the fic and the next the kids may not have even been born yet

If you're new to the Life In A Year verse here are a couple of the important details: - Kurt and Blaine have two kids (Elizabeth May (Lizzy) and Matthew Devon (Matty)) - Lizzy is biologically Blaine's and is four years older than Matty (who is biologically Kurt's) - Both kids came from the same surrogate/egg donor (Lizzy is born when Kurt and Blaine are 26 and 27 respectfully) - Kurt works in fashion and Blaine is on Broadway (though he eventually retires and goes into teaching) - Rachel is married to Jesse and they have a son named Nash who is Matty's age and Matty's best friend

This month all the inspiration words come from the Tan Hands and Tan Lines event! As often as I can I will try to incorporate both words from that event every day into these fics (if I'm able to the title will be both words) if not I will only use one! I think that's all for now - Enjoy!

AO3 Link

“I quit this family!” Matty all but growls as he stomps his way into the kitchen. He throws his backpack against the wall where it lands with a thump on the floor, before making his way to the fridge. He opens it, glares inside it for a few moments, before huffing and slamming the door closed.

Lizzy watches the whole interaction from the kitchen table, her homework out in front of her (though her Instagram account is getting more of a work out then her pencil), and smirks as her little brother crosses his arms over his chest and literally pouts at the fridge like it offended him.

She waits for a second, curious if Matty’s tantrum will continue, before sighing, “Nothing pains me more than to ask this, but why are you quitting the family?”

Matty’s glare turns on his sister, “Like you care.” The twelve-year-old grumbles.

Lizzy shrugs, “I’m not saying I’m going to try to change your mind. You can think of my question as...a general curiosity. At this point, I’m up for anything that will keep me away from reading about Charlemagne.”

Matty seems to consider her offer, pouting his lips, before huffing and sitting heavily in a chair across from his sister.

“Dad and Papa grounded me because I got a D on a test!” He explodes.

Lizzy raises an eyebrow, “And…?” She prompts.

Matty’s eyes go wide, “And that’s totally unfair!”

The sixteen-year-old stares at her brother for a moment before bursting out laughing. Matty scoffs before pushing up from the table and heading to the door.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Lizzy says, calming her laughter and making a calming gesture with one outstretched hand, “Come back.” She says.

Matty seems skeptical, but eventually drops back into his chair.

“Okay, so why did you get the D?” She asks.

Matty shrugs, “It was a hard test.”

Lizzy shrugs in response, “So you studied really hard and tried your best? It was just a really difficult test?”

Matty goes to answer but then stops and slumps against his chair with a sigh, “Not...exactly.”

Lizzy tilts her head, “So you didn’t study at all and played video games with Nash instead.”

Matty splutters the beginnings of a few sentences before saying, “It’s not fair! Dad and Papa are being dictators!”

Lizzy laughs softly, “Dictators, maybe. But I have always found them to at least be benevolent dictators.”

Matty stares at her, “What does benevolent mean?”

Lizzy sighs, “It means that they may tell us what to do but at least they’re nice about it.”

Matty considers her words before sighing, “I guess. Nash got punished WAY worse.”

“That’s because there is nothing benevolent about Aunt Rachel.” Lizzy says knowingly, “But don’t tell her I said that.” She warns with a point.

The front door opens and closes down the hall from the kitchen and both Matty and Lizzy turn in its direction.

“The dictators are home.” Matty grumbles, “I should have been practicing my bow.”

Lizzy smirks, “Study next time. And leave the video games for after the test.”

Matty gives a reluctant nod as Kurt and Blaine enter the kitchen with grocery bags in their hands. They stop short when they notice Lizzy and Matty sitting at the kitchen table, “You’re sitting in the same room and there isn’t yelling.” Blaine says.

Kurt looks around the room, “And nothing is broken.”

Lizzy and Matty roll their eyes at the same time, “We can be civil.” Lizzy says.

“Uh huh.” Kurt says, not convinced, as he and Blaine put the groceries on the counter.

“Matty, do you want to help put this stuff away?” Blaine asks.

Matty’s chest puffs out in anger, about to ask why Lizzy doesn’t have to help (is he being further punished?), when he realizes that Blaine is smiling at him and that with Lizzy doing homework, it makes sense for them to ask the child currently not doing anything.

He deflates with a sigh, “Sure.”

Blaine’s smile widens, “Good man. And then you and I are going to study for that make-up test together.” He says, extending a bag of celery toward Matty.

Matty takes the celery with another sigh and a nod, “Okay.” He says, making his way to the fridge.

Kurt and Blaine strike up a conversation about weekend plans and while Matty listens to the conversation, participates some, and puts more groceries away, he figures he doesn’t ACTUALLY want to quit his family. Though he DOES want to quit math...

[twistedlymad]

Reader Giving Into Darkness (Overblotting Reader)

Hewwo everyone! I hope you guys are fine and having a lovely time! 

First off, I’d like to apologize for the inactivity for these past few days, I caught a fever last Saturday and I had to do some editing work for Sunday, so, I didn’t really write a lot last Saturday and Sunday. Don’t worry though! I’m fine now and I immediately jumped back into writing!

Secondly, this fic was supposedly to be an overblotting reader fic, but now, after writing and proof-reading it, it doesn’t seem like an overblotting reader story, more like, reader gave way for darkness to take over them. I have no idea anymore haha! I will most probably write another story for overblotting reader depending on how this one goes. (Also tell me if you want a part 2 to this, for now, I haven’t got one planned yet)

Third, I’d like to thank you guys once again for supporting me so much! I do hope you’ll enjoy this story that I’ve written! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day! (Story is under the cut uwu)

It was a pretty mundane day at Night Raven College. You’ve got your daily dose of chaos, your classes went along swimmingly and surprisingly, no fights occurred between your group of dumbass friends! I would even say that it was a boring day!

Or had it really been a mundane day?

You were on your way back to your class after helping Professor Trein run a small little errand, he needed to have a few paperwork submitted but Lucius had fallen asleep on his lap. You volunteered to go in his place instead since you needed some fresh air after sitting at a desk for an entire day. You brought Grim along since the furball wanted to tag along with you.

You were humming softly to yourself as you cheerfully made your way, you couldn’t wait to sit with your friends again and continue your day happily.

“Fgnaaa, you seem to be in a really good mood today (Y/N).” Grim said from your embrace, you giggled in response to his words.

“Well, today has been a really good day so far! I’m sure that today will be a perfect day.” You said as you let a smile grace on your face.

“Well, whatever you say (Y/N).” Grim said as he let out a small yawn.

However, when you got to the doorway of your class, your ears picked up on a few chatters of familiar voices.

You were about to enter your classroom but you had halted yourself just behind the doorframe for you had heard your name being mentioned. You didn’t want to enter your class just yet, for some reason, you had wanted to hear what the chatter was about and why it involved your name.

“(Y/N) doesn’t need to know.” One of the voices said.

“Why did we even ask (Y/N) in the first place?” A second voice asked.

“Yea, it’s not like it’ll be any help to us anyway, after all, (Y/N) can’t use magic.” Another voice piped up, agreeing with the first two voices.

“Let’s not mention this when (Y/N) comes back later, this’ll remain between us.” The first voice said once more and you heard a few grunts and hums of agreement from a few different voices.

You slowly lowered your head as you leaned against the doorframe of your classroom. Those voices were all too familiar to you, for they were the voices of your best friends, the ones that you had spent so many time with, the ones that you had went through the most with, the ones that you had trusted yourself with.

You felt as if you had been slapped in the face harshly after hearing the voices that you had felt safe with associate themselves with such words.

Slowly squatting down, you released Grim from your embrace and onto the ground. The furball faced you with a sad look on his face.

“(Y/N)… They-” Grim started but he was cut off by you gently pressing your index finger on his mouth.

“It’s okay, I’m fine.” You said with a smile on your face.

“We still have some time before class right? I’ll be going for a little walk then.” You said as you stood back up and walked away. Grim looked at you with worry as he stayed in his place, his eyes locked onto your leaving figure. You knew he was watching, so you took a sharp turn, letting a wall come between his stare and your figure.

Once you knew that you weren’t being watched anymore, you ran as fast as you could, adrenaline was pumping through your veins as your vision began to blur. You weren’t sure where you were running to, you just wanted to get out of that place, as far as possible.

Unbeknownst to you, a figure had been watching the whole event and they were smirking to themselves the entire time.

“According to plan I see… Excellent.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After running for what seemed like hours, you find yourself in a forest, surrounded by trees, the only sounds that you heard were the chirping of various animals and insects that inhabited it. You sat down under one of the tall trees while taking deep breaths in hopes to help soothe yourself. You wiped away your tears as they flowed.

The chatter of your friends rang in your head as you reminisced your memories with them, as if whenever you tried to remind yourself of all the good times you had with them, the chatter would be there to tell you that it was all fake.

“They don’t care for you.” Suddenly, an unfamiliar voice spoke out. Or had it been an unfamiliar voice?

You frantically looked around, searching for the source of the voice. It took you some time before your eyes landed on a small little puddle of water beside you, your reflection was as clear as sky as you looked.

So it did give you quite the scare when your reflection suddenly spoke up while you didn’t.

“Don’t mind them, you don’t need them.” Your reflection said to you.

“What?” You asked as you took a closer look at the puddle. You rubbed your eyes to make sure that what you were seeing was real. You wanted to make sure that you weren’t dreamin-

“Oh, you’re not dreaming, don’t worry about that.” Your reflection said, as if it had read your thoughts.

“No. They do, I am their friend after all.” You huffed and stood up, arguing to your reflection’s previous statement. You didn’t want to question the existence of your talking reflection, after all, you were in Twisted Wonderland, a place where magic is real and almost anything can happen, even talking reflections. Heck, take the mirror of darkness for an example.

“Besides, they could be talking about anything! Maybe they were talking about homework. I just overreacted, that’s all.” You replied further to your reflection as well as reassuring yourself.

“Are you entirely sure?” Your reflection asked you once more. “You heard what they said loud and clear.” It said to you. You took in a deep breath through clenched teeth as you closed your eyes and turned away, hugging yourself as you tried to walk away. You wanted to ignore your reflection, you thought that it was just giving negative feedback on the events that had already happen, you wanted to believe that your friends were possibly talking about something else.

But you were shocked when you heard the next sentence come out of your reflection’s mouth.

“Friends don’t talk to friends like that.”

You whipped your head around immediately, looking at the puddle as beads of tears formed in and fell from your eyes. Your reflection was right after all, friends don’t talk to friends like that, friends will tell you their problems straight away, friends don’t hide secrets about friends and most importantly…

True friends don’t talk about friends behind their backs.

As you were buried deep in your thoughts, your reflection smirked a little after seeing the look of hurt on your face. It waited for a few seconds before continuing its statement.

“Don’t worry, like I’ve said, you don’t need them. You only need me.” Your reflection said with a smirk. “After all, I am a part of you.”

“A part… Of me?” You asked, you didn’t completely understand what your reflection had meant by its words.

“Yes, for I am your conscience, I know what you need right now and that’s me.” Your reflection said to you. It then wiped off the smirk it had on its face and extended its hand towards you.

“Take my hand.” It said. “I promise you, with me, you won’t ever feel heartbreak anymore, you won’t ever experience betrayal anymore and you don’t need anything else, you just need me.”

“But, my friends-“ But before you could finish your sentence, you were cut off by your reflection.

“They don’t want you! You only need me!” Your reflection yelled, clearing its throat, it told you once more.

“Take my hand.”

You hesitated. You didn’t want to take the hand, you knew that it was dangerous. But, the chatter of your friends continued to repeat itself in your head, its ringing was making your head spin and drowning out your sense of danger and uncertainty, making you temporarily forget all the good times you had with them and all the happiness you had experienced with them.

As the ringing in your head continued, you felt confused and broken, you didn’t know what to do. Your heart ached as you remembered the memories you made with your friends, for everything was fake. The happiness, the sadness, the trust, the comfort, everything had been fake.

You just wanted this feeling to stop.

Then, the ringing of your friends’ chatter in your head was soon replaced by the chanting of your reflection’s offer. Your reflection seemed to be so welcoming, you felt as if only your reflection understood you, you felt as if you could trust yourself with it, after all, it is a part of you, right?

Surely you could trust yourself with yourself.

So, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes as you extended your own hand towards your reflection. Placing your hand on your reflection’s, you felt your hand being gripped by it. You then opened your eyes to see that your reflection was holding your hand rather firmly with a peaceful look on its face.

But all of a sudden, your reflection looked back at you with a sharp look, its mouth twisted upwards into a menacing smirk as it tightened the grip it had on your hand. You let out a small gasp as you tried to pull your hand away, but you didn’t succeed, the grip on your hand was far too strong.

A black cloud began to form on your gripped hand as your reflection cackled. You finally managed to disconnect your hand from your reflection’s when you forcefully pulled your hand away. When you inspected your hand, your eyes could only widen in horror as you saw the cloud that continued to linger on your hand.

And it was slowly spreading.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Grim had managed to get your friends’ attention as he questioned the harsh choice of words of your friends, but, your friends only looked at him in confusion as he did so.

“What do you mean Grim? We never said anything like that.” One of your friends replied.

“Fgnaaaaa! Don’t lie to me! Me and (Y/N) clearly heard you guys say those words.” Grim said angrily.

“But, Grim, we were doing homework, plus, we couldn’t talk since the professor was there.” Another friend stated. Grim froze in his place as he realized that he had just seen the professor leave the classroom as you were running away.

So, how did that chatter even happen? If it wasn’t from your friends, then…

“Oh no.” Grim said with a grim look on his face.

“What’s wrong Grim? Is everything okay?”

“No. You guys need to follow me. NOW.” Grim ordered your friends as he ran out the classroom, your friends gave each other a look of worry before rising from their seats and followed the furball.

Your friends had a hard time catching up with Grim as he swiftly navigated his way through the busy hallways of the school. Your friends were yelling questions to him, wanting answers for this sudden change of behavior.

“Just, follow me!! I don’t think (Y/N) is safe!!” Grim yelled back, hoping that his answer would satisfy the curiosity of your friends. As the furball ran, he was buried deep in his thoughts as well.

‘I hope you’re there (Y/N), you always go there whenever something’s wrong, please be there, please be safe… Please.’ Grim thought to himself as he continued to run, eventually running into a forest, the exact same forest that you were in.

However, when they got to you, it was already too late. Your figure was surrounded in a cloud of sheer blackness, leaving only your torso and head available. The cloud slowly rose up, covering your entire body little by little. It was getting hard for you to breathe, your body felt numb, you couldn’t move any parts of your body.

You were panicking, afraid that your friends will get injured just because you had made a wrong decision. You were also afraid for your own life, for you knew what was happening to yourself all too well. You’ve always managed to save the others from this situation, yet you have never thought that it would happen to yourself.

You thought that since you didn’t have magic, it would never happen to you.

Yet, here you are, experiencing the exact same thing that had happened to some of your friends.

“(Y/N)!” Your friends yelled for you, their faces donned looks of pure fear and shock.

You gave them one last look, it was a very interesting look.

It was a look of worry,

Yet it was also a look of sorry,

A look of terror,

And a look of horror.

Tears flowed out your eyes as the cloud slowly engulfed your torso and is partially engulfing your head. With one last breath, you muttered the following words:

“Run… Save… Yourselves…”

Darkness had consumed you as your vision was clouded by pitch black. You felt tired, sleepy, drowsy, your eyelids were heavy and they were drooping on their own. Yet, you tried to fight it, you weren’t going to it control your body with such ease. But it was no use, you had already accepted the darkness when you accepted your reflection’s hand.

Your friend’s smiling faces were the last thing on your mind as you fell into a deep slumber.

As the cloud began to disperse, everyone just stood there, looking at your figure that stood before them, or rather, what was once your figure.

“(Y/N)…” Your friends called out your name softly as they stared at the monstrous and black form you had donned on.

“We have to fight her to save her.” Grim said.

“We have no choice.” The furball continued as your friends nodded in agreement.

‘Hang on (Y/N), please, for us.’ Was the only thought on everyone’s minds as they readied their magic pens.

Let’s just hope they could save you like how you saved them.

[90spumkin]

Love Knows No Bounds

Summary: This is just a cute little fic about Spencer being a Dad because I feel that we were rob of that.

A/N: So what do I do with my spare time after testing positive for Covid? I write this gem instead of doing my psychology homework or editing ‘Unexpected Switch Part Three’. I hope you all enjoy this though.

Warning: None... I don’t think...I’m always scared that I’m going to forget something and not warn ya’ll so like always if you see anything please tell me!

Word Count: 1501

Spencer Reid could say the word love in multiple languages. He could give you synonyms for the word that you would have to google to even know existed. But he found it hard to describe what love felt like, especially in this moment.

As he held his precious newborn baby daughter for the very first time, he realized the love he was feeling was so overwhelming hard to describe. As he ran his thumb across the baby’s soft cheek and smiled, he came to the conclusion that this love was just a pure love. It is so different from the love he has for his wife, his mom, or his BAU team.

 He looked up from the bundle in his arms to see his wife smiling from her hospital bed as she watched him bond with their baby. He smiled back and walked over and gave her a kiss on the forehead all while ushering her ‘to get some sleep’.

 The nurse walks in not long after to check the vitals of his wife and daughter and she notices that he couldn’t take his eyes off either of the sleeping females. She smiled and asks, “May I ask how you came up with the baby girl’s name?”

Spencer’s smile was so big it took up most of his face as he told the nurse, “Eliza is for my wife’s mother, Diana is my mother’s name, and Faith is for the faith we had that this pregnancy would be the one we longed for after two miscarriages.”

The nurse finished checking the vitals and told Spencer, “Well it is a very lovely name.”

Spencer just kind of laughed to himself and said to himself after the nurse was long gone, “It is the loveliest name for the loveliest girl.”

——

It has been 5 years since the first day Spencer held his baby girl for the first time. And the love he felt then seems to only get stronger every day if that is even possible.

As he sits in his favorite chair reading to Eliza and listening to his wife singe while she cooks in the kitchen after long week gone due to a case; Spencer is overwhelmed once again with love.

 He finishes the book only to have Eliza climb down from his lap and disappear into her room. She then comes running back with another book and says, “Please Daddy just one more?” She gives him her big brown puppy dog eyes that mirror his own and he can’t help but to sit her in his lap once more and begin reading.

All while this is happening his wife is watching and still quietly singing with a smile on her face while she to is overwhelmed with love.

————

Love can be shown in many ways and the worry and protectiveness Spencer was feeling right now was a prime example. Him and his wife new that Eliza would be special since a very young age, but it never once crossed Spencer’s mind that she would get bullied for it. He did not feel like a genius for not thinking of this considering he too got bullied in school for being “to smart”.

As Eliza sat between Spencer and his wife, he could hear her tiny sobs and her whispers of continuously asking, “Why do they hate me?”

This absolutely broke Spencer’s heart. His wife was smoothing their daughters hair down and soothingly trying to talk to her when Eliza sat up and look Spencer right in the eyes and said, “I blame you!” and stormed into her room and slammed the door.

Spencer was in so much shock that he hadn’t realized he had tears forming in his eyes. His wife got his attention and told me, “Spence go talk to her. She’s just hurt and needs her Dad no matter what she says.”

Spencer nodded, gave his wife a kiss, and walked to his crying daughters room. He knocked once he reached her door and when he got no response, he hesitantly opened the door. He found Eliza sitting on her bed with dry tear stains on her cheeks and small hiccups. She looked up as he entered, and she threw her arms around him and apologized over and over for saying what she did.

Spencer hugged his little girl back tightly and they sat on her bed and he began to tell her of all the great things she will be able to accomplish with her brilliant mind. He threw some funny stories in there so he could hear her sweet laugh and see her face brighten up as she smiled.

It did not take long till she had fallen asleep, worn out by all the crying. As he sat and watched his sweet Eliza sleep, he made a vow to do everything his power to never let her feel like this ever again.

———-

Spencer was once again recalling how love has many forms, and this time love was causing him pain. Eliza was in her 10th year of high school, and the youngest of her class she was bound to go through some phases. Well she was going through one heck of a rebellious stage.

“Eliza Diana Faith Reid get in here now!” He had to force himself to calm down trying not to get to worked up. His wife ran a hand across his back trying to calm him some before their daughter walked in.

She came into the living room and ask, “What?” with so much attitude it took everything Spencer had to not just ground her right then and there without getting an explanation for what he had summoned her for.

He held up a pregnancy test he had accidentally found while gathering the trash from her bedroom earlier that day.

“Do you care to explain why you have a used pregnancy test in your bedroom?” He asked as calmly as he possibly could.

Eliza stood there in fear, “It’s not mine I promise! Ummm, Teresa got involved with this senior and she was scared to take the test at her house, so she took it here. I did not realize she had thrown it away here. You have to believe me Dad!”

Spencer pinched the bridge of his nose as his wife says, “Teresa was here Tuesday it is very possible.”

The intelligent Doctor looked between his wife and daughter and realized that Eliza’s fear was not fear of consequences but fear of him not trusting her. Spencer nodded and whispered a small, “Okay I believe you.”

Eliza gave both her parents quick hugs before returning to her room.

Spencer practically threw himself onto the couch and his wife followed him. They looked at each other and began to laugh at the events that had just played out. Spencer thought how love had made it painful to accuse his daughter of a rebellious act, but how it made him happy knowing by the look on his daughter’s face she would never go that far to disappoint him.

——-

Love has made Spencer feel many other different emotions over the years and today was no different. As he sat watching his wife a daughter scream and jump with joy, what Spencer was feeling was pride.

His sweet Eliza was accepted to many different colleges across the U.S. and a few abroad, but none of them had been her dream school until her acceptance letter from Harvard came in.

“I can’t believe I got in! The Law School program at that!” Eliza all but squealed.

Spencer chuckled and said, “I still don’t see why you wasn’t this excited about CalTech?”

Eliza just rolled her eyes and groaned. Spencer once again chuckled and hugged his daughter and told her, “I am so happy for you and beyond proud of you baby girl!”

He looked up at his wife over their daughters’ shoulder and saw she was taking a picture to capture this love filled moment.

———-

As Spencer walked down the aisle to give his baby girl away, he remembered every moment he had with his daughter. His eidetic memory not letting him miss a single thing. He felt the same overwhelming love then as he had the first day he held her in his arms.

He stood at the alter to give his precious Eliza away to the man who would now get the chance to feel the love that knowing her brings. As he goes to part from her, she hugs him and whispers, “I love you more than you could ever imagine.” As they pull away with tears in bother their eyes he smiles and tell her, “I love you more than humanly possible.” She gives a small laugh as she joins her future husband he sits beside his wife. And she takes his hand and he kisses the crown of her head and listens to Eliza say her vows he cannot help but to agree when she says, “Love knows no bounds.”

*

*

*

@criminalmindzjunkie​ @hendersonsshadow​ @brooklynxnicole​

[wreckofawriter]

Redbull

Pairing: Harry Potter x reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Swearing, a complete crack fic.

Song to Set the Vibe: Break Shit ~ Jasiah

Request: Reader gets extra homework from Snape and drinks redbull to finish it, she then freaks out becaue of overintake of caffeine

A/n: this is a crack fic plain and simple, kinda fun to write, I used it as an excuse to bash Snape and Pansy. It's not edited so ignore spelling and grammar(Ps I'm in love with Shigaraki Tomura so if anyone can help me that would be great)

    You rolled your eyes aimlessly flipping through your potions textbook in hopes to find something worth your time inside of it. You found nothing but continued to scan the pages, thoughts wandering to random topics. You groaned wondering if you could catch Harry’s attention from across the room. You cursed Snape for separating you, now you were stuck next to Pansy Perkins, someone you would sooner pitch from the autonomy tower than have a civilized conversation with, although you doubted she was able to have such things. You let out another loud sigh as your stares into your boyfriend’s head gave you no reaction. 

Pansy turned, glaring. You stuck your tongue out at her and she scoffed turning away. 

    “You’re disgustingly childish.” she spat inching her seat away from you. 

    “At least I’m not in love with a boy who finds me annoying and borderline repulsive.” You shot back. 

    She scowled back at you, “Shut your filthy mouth, you know nothing about me.”

    “I know you’re an uppity bitch.” You shrugged back grinning. 

    She let out a high pitched shriek as you struggled to keep in giggles. Eyes snapped toward your table and you looked towards your desk-mate pretending to be shocked by her outburst. 

    “Ms. Perkinson, is everything alright?” Snape was clearly uninterested in her answer. 

    For a second you were sure she would snitch on you but she decided to keep her dignity intact and shook her head. 

    You snickered, waving to Harry who rolled his eyes playfully, a small grin on his face. 

    As Snape went back to his lesson you smirked at the red-faced girl, “Wow Perkionson you truly decided to keep your pride on that one didn’t you?” 

    She responded with nothing no longer playing along. 

    “That’s something I would have done, you know us prideful Gryffindors. I suppose you were placed in the wrong house.” You continued to bait the girl. 

    She scoffed again, “I was put in the right house, thank you very much.” 

    “Oh sure, you were.” You bit your lip in thought before an idea revealed itself. “Oh my Godric, Draco is totally staring at you.” You gasped in mock surprise. 

    She snapped to attention spinning around to look where the blonde was seated only to find him asleep at his desk. You laughed quietly as she spun around to glare at you again. 

    “I’m only kidding of course,” You chuckled, “I’m sure he would rather stare at a troll’s ass than you, I know I sure would.” 

    Her cheeks blossomed with red anger, her eyes narrowing to slits as you held back barking laughter. “Shut up.” Her voice was shaky with fury. 

    “Ooo, looks like I’ve struck a nerve.” You jeered happily. “ ‘fried Darcy is never gonna love your little pug face?” 

    Apparently you took it too far because the girl leapt to her feet swinging her wand at you, “Flipendo!”

    You flipped straight off your chair and was flung into the desk next to you, a splintering pain shooting through your back. You didn’t let it show laughing as you stood “What?! Can’t take the truth pug-face?” You snatched your wand from your robes, “Tentaclifors!” 

    Pansy’s head was replaced by a large grey tentacle in seconds, “At least now you’ll look better!” You barked in a wide grin. Laughter and shouts echoed around you but your joy was cut in one swift flash. 

    “Y/l/n!” 

    You turned to see your professor, his anger quite evident amongst his dull features. 

    “Ms. Greengrass, please escort Ms. Perkinson to the hospital wing.” He snarled as you bit back a giggle. 

    “Since you seem to find dueling with a classmate while I’m teaching so amusing, y/l/n, I expect six pages on the essay due tonight instead of two.” He snapped. 

    “But she fired first!” You defended.

    “I simply do not care.” He responded, “I want six pages.” 

    You glared at the man mumbling some unpleasant words under your breath before taking your seat again. At least you only had ten minutes of class left. 

    Saying you liked to procrastinate would be an understatement. You were wildly in love with procrastination. You were an absolute expert at finding anything but your work to do. You shoved the essays and worksheets to the back of your mind and instead helped the twins with a prank or read a new book. You could close off the bad thoughts of school work like a pro, even Hermionie’s nagging couldn’t get you to work until the sunlight had faded and the stars were visible in the sky. 

    You had once again followed through on your usual routine and now at ten at night you were finally beginning to start your hours of work. 

    You groaned, “How can our professors be so cruel? This is a wildly unfair amount of work.”

    Hermione rolled her eyes, “Maybe if you had gotten started on it right away then you wouldn’t be so stressed right now.” 

    “Whatever.” You mumbled. 

    Harry who sat beside you, his head on your shoulder, arm around your waist peered at the textbooks you had placed in front of you. “Don’t you have that essay from Snape too?” 

    You whimpered, the sound of a wounded animal, “I totally forgot about that.” You buried your head into the dark-haired boy’s chest, “I’m so fucked.” 

    He chuckled earning a glare from you as you pouted up at him, “Sorry,” he murmured, “You’re just so cute.” 

    Ron groaned, “Can you not do that in front of me?” 

    Harry rolled his eyes, “Don’t be jealous Ron, green is not a good color on you.” 

    “I am not jealous.” He scoffed. 

    “Whatever,” you whined, “Someone help me. I’m gonna pass out in like an hour.”

    “That’s your own fault.” Hermione pointed out, you ignored her picking up your transfiguration notes and beginning to scribble down answers. 

    Three hours later you were completely exhausted. Both Hermione and Ron had retired to their beds. Harry was beside you struggling to stay awake as he poured over your Defense Against the Dark Arts paragraph. Your eyelids felt too heavy and your mind was fogged over, memories smeared in the mud of fatigue. You were at your breaking point. 

    “I haven’t even started that stupid essay.” You whimpered, eyes suddenly pricking with tears. You hiccuped choking back sobs, “I can’t do this.” 

    Harry sat up rubbing his eyes and stumbling towards you. He sat next to you holding open his arms as you buried yourself into his embrace. You let yourself go, tears spilling down your cheeks onto the boy’s shoulder. 

    “Y/n/n.” He whispered causing you to look up at him. He cupped your head in his hands using his thumbs to wipe your tears, their cold temperature feeling refreshing against your hot sticky skin. “You’re gonna be okay, I’m gonna get you an energy drink and you're going to be just fine. I swear.” 

    “Energy drink?” You tilted your head in confusion. 

    He nodded, “I’ve got a whole bunch of them up in my room so I can stay up.” 

    “Okay.” You mumbled leaning into his touch which was so cruelly torn away from you. 

    “I’ll be right back.”

    Harry stumbled back down the stairs with a brightly colored box a few minutes later. You investigated one of the cans he had given you and frowned.

    “Redbull?” 

    He nodded, “Yeah muggles drink the stuff all the time, it's like super-powered coffee.” You shrugged, cracking open the can to a small fizz, “Careful it tastes like shit.” 

    You took a large swig anyway cringing at the taste but ignoring it. 

    You heard the hiss of carbonation and glanced over at Harry who was about to take a sip of the liquid. “Harry, go to bed, I’ll finish this myself.” 

    He glanced hazily at you, “Are you sure?” 

    You nodded, taking the drink from him, “I’ll be fine.” 

    “Okay.” He spoke hesitantly standing, “Love you y/n/n.” He placed a kiss on your forehead. 

    “Love you too.” You responded “Goodnight.” 

    He disappeared upstairs and you took another sip. 

    Harry awoke the next morning and clambered down the dormitory steps to find you pacing and what seemed to be mumbling to yourself. He scrunched his brow and continued across the room looking down when he heard a loud clang and felt something bounce off his shoe. It turned out to be a can that was sent rolling across the carpeted room knocking into three others on the way. 

You had now noticed the boy’s arrival and turned to greet him, “Harry!” You yelled a bit too loudly, “Thank Godric you’re up! I’ve been waiting for ages.” You scampered across the room laughing a bit. Harry noticed the almost hazy look in your eyes immediately, dark circles also accompanied them. 

“Y/n how long have you been up?” He hesitantly asked, not really wanting to hear the answer. 

You glanced down at your watch and did a bit of math, “26 hours give or take.” You were bouncing on your heels. 

Harry’s eyes widened, “You didn’t sleep at all?” 

“Couldn’t, that shit really works man,” You spoke too quickly, “Like really works” 

“Exactly how much did you have?” He wondered in part amazement part fear. 

“Umm like all of it.” You responded as you walked away from him and began to pack up your stuff in a rushed manner. 

“All of it?!” Harry choked out his eyes glancing around the room finding far too many can littering the floor.

You nodded, “Yep, yeppers, sure did. In fact, do you have any more? I think I might need to ride this high for a few more hours.” 

“Y/n, I’m not giving you anymore that is extremely unhealthy,” Harry said, watching as desperation filled your eyes only to be replaced by determination. 

You sprinted towards his stairs, tripping on one but standing before you could even feel the bruise begin to form on your knee. 

“Y/n/n what are you doing?” Harry called after you, “Hey get down here!” 

By the time Harry managed to make it up the stairs you had already pulled another box of the drinks from under his bed, ripped it open and was drinking a can. Ron who was shirtless apparently changing stared at you in horror. 

“The hell y/n!” 

You laughed, “Bug off Ron.” Your voice was so rushed it was almost inaudible. You then ran from the room dodging Harry and stumbling back down the stairs. Harry chased after you frantically. “Y/n!” 

You laughed again, “Let’s head to breakfast Harry!” You then skipped out of the portrait hole. 

By the time potions rolled around you had finished off almost all of the cans in the new box you had stolen before Harry managed to snag it from you. You were still hours from crashing and insisted on running on your good feeling. Literally. 

You sprinted through the halls not much caring about the students and teachers you bumped into. You ran straight through Nearly Headless Nick and shrieked at the icy temperature you plunged into but kept running. You reached the dungeons in record time before running into Malfoy who cussed at you. 

You turned to face him in a whirlwind, “You know Draco, I think I’m quite a nice person but you make me just want to break your nose.” You said it so matter-of-factly his eyes went wide and you were gone before he could answer. 

You made it to the potions room and burst inside Harry wheezed for breath at the door deciding he needed to work out more. 

“Snape!” You called loudly plopping onto your desk and removing your papers, scrawled in messy handwriting. 

“It’s Professor Snape.” He corrected you in a snarl. 

You blinked owlishly at him tilting your head to the side, “But I’m not a professor.” 

Snape frowned, dropping his mouth to say something but before he could, you lunged at him, shoving your homework into his hands and laughing wildly as he stumbled backward. 

“Y/l/n what on earth is wrong with you?” He spat. 

You shrugged, “Redbull.” 

“What is a Red Bull?” he scoffed. 

“A potion.” You responded and Harry snorted, “You haven’t heard of it? It's something muggles made, it helps keep you awake when your dickwad of a teacher gives you extra homework.” 

Snape’s face flashed, red anger crawling onto his pale visage, “10 points from Gryffindor for insulting a teacher.” 

You snickered, “Make it twenty you greasy hairball.” 

He did. 

Pansy found sitting next to you extremely difficult, you continued to pick at your desk, leg bouncing absentmindedly as you hummed a song. 

“Have you gone insane y/l/n?” she asked in a hushed whisper refusing to meet your eye after yesterday’s duel. 

“Yes.” you confirmed loudly, “I was forced to look at you.” Snickers and laughs echoed around you and you smiled smugly. “I can’t even imagine what it's like for poor Malfoy when you shove yourself into his face every hour. No wonder he constantly looks like he has a broom handle shoved up his ass.” 

This caused Seamus who sat a few seats from you to laugh so hard his eyes began to water as his deskmate Dean chuckled helplessly. 

“Y/l/n!” Snape hissed, “Do you think this is a comedy club?”

“Considering you’re the one in charge it should be.” You answered. “But you aren’t very funny, so maybe not.” 

Seamus howled slamming his hand on his desk as Ron damn near fell out of his chair. Gryffindor lost more points and Harry decided to never give you an energy drink ever again. 

Taglist:

@accio-rogers

@roslea

@k3nz-doodl3

@theseuscmander

@sleepingalaska

Masterlist

[yukiobeyme]

Taking Care of Brothers Sore/ Pulled Muscle Edition

I was gonna do homework but I started to plan Satan’s Birthday Fic for tomorrow and this happened instead. I’m also only on lesson 24 or so, so I don’t get to experience the new lesson.

Lucifer: You know he doesn’t sit properly at his desk, maybe for the first 15-20 minutes but then he is slouching, and it kills his back. He also more or less always stressed and tensed so his neck and shoulders always ache. He is prone to tension headaches because of it. The best way to get on his good side or to help him destress is making his favorite hot tea and forcing him to take a breather. He absolutely adores it when you take the time to massage his neck and shoulders. He never lets you touch too much of his back (he finds his scars ugly) but you can usually talk him into take a hot shower than and letting the hot water and steam help release the muscles in his back.

Mammon: Because he carries the looks of the family Because he models, he finds himself in not only odd outfits but odd poses and tensing his muscles. The amount of times a shoot caused him to pull a muscle is unreal. He is also known for doing weights the week before a shoot, but it leaves him sore. While he blushes and stutters through it, he loves nothing more for you to straddle his hips and just massage his back. You usually snag a nice oil from Asmo and light some nice smelling candles to create a relaxing atmosphere before just going to town on all his knots in his back.

Levi: Constantly sitting on the floor (Beanbags don’t support your back properly, honestly you are probably better to sit on the floor!) And hunched over for video games or anime leaves his back or even body sore. While Levi is very particular about being touched, he doesn’t appreciate massages too much. Maybe a quick shoulder rub but that pushing it. Instead run him a hot bath, set up a portable tablet so he can watch anime while he lets the hot water undo the tension in his muscles. Also spoil him a little, find him pillow supports or gentle remind him to get up and stretch, drink and eat during his marathons.

Satan: From being curled up in weird positions for an ungodly amount of time to being always angry and tensed from it, Satan actually doesn’t notice when his body is sore or tight, it’s just normal. It wasn’t until he had a horrible headache and you basically waited on him did, he realized how tight his muscles are. You started with his favorite tea, then a hot bath, and you laid out his softest pjs. Finally, you found your way into his bed where you cuddled, you gently rubbing his back. When his headache wasn’t pounding anymore, you would grab his favorite book and quietly read it to him until he fell asleep.

Asmodeus: It was because of some stupid yoga class that was supposed to be good for him, he ended up pulling something in his back. Though he didn’t expect to meet you in his room, with a bath already drawn and you talking about how you put in that salt he talked about. It was some scented salt that also helped relax muscles and draw out toxins. Asmo was honestly in love, he didn’t expect you to remember him talking about that salt, he had talked about it once months ago. You then told him to take his time but as soon as he was done, you got that warming massage oil that had peppermint and eucalyptus to help relax muscles. While Asmodeus is the Avatar of Lust, there was nothing sexual about it, even to him. He was just more touch, and felt loved and heard. He definitely asks you to stay the night but makes no moves on you, just simply cuddles you and gives you a kiss on the cheek for thanks.

Beelzbub: You warned him to not push it at the gym, especially because you weren’t going to be able to spot him and make comments on his form. But he went ahead anyways, and it turns out his form wasn’t right, and he lifted too heavy too quickly and the left side of his back just radiated with pain. You immediately went into a caregiver mode, drawing him a hot bath, getting all sore of muscle relaxing meds/creams, and his favorite comfort foods. You spoon fed him and after food was done, you massaged his back until he relaxed and feel asleep. He mumbles to you about stay with him until he wakes up and in the morning you are dotting over him, asking him if you could carry his bag to school for him and making sure he stays away from the gym until he heals.

Belphegor: He tried to tell you it was no big deal, he slept wrong and put a kink in his neck, but you weren’t having any of it. You tried to just massage out the kink in his neck but it only seemed to relax the muscles for a little bit. You finally suggested a bath and you offered to wash his hair and massage his neck and shoulders. It was a soft and intimate moment and Belphie realized that it was totally worth all the fussing you did over him. He adored having you massage and lather his hair and splashing warm bath water against his neck, he completely fell asleep in the bath and you let him sleep, until the water got too cold.

[bowditch]

how do you balance creating fan works with juggling your responsibilities? I've been struggling with finding the time/motivation to write what I want.

First, my creativity output tends to come and go in waves. Some weeks I’m writing 1-3k a day, some weeks I don’t even open documents at all. Some weeks are in-between, where I open stuff and poke around and do a few hundred words here and there, but not much more. The “off” times I’m usually reading, playing games, watching movies or shows, talking to friends, and thinking about stories or scenes. Sometimes, this isn’t even anything I’ll ever write! Sometimes, I don’t think about stories I’m writing at all. It’s more whatever pops into my head and less structured.  Part of me wants to be Disciplined and write every day, but the reality is that unless it’s a very tiny limit like 100-200 words, this really isn’t doable for me. I have kids I homeschool, I have a house and a husband and a dog and there are times in life when I need to deep clean a bunch of rooms, or plan out school stuff, or go on hikes, and I still have to have time to recharge. Writing sometimes is that recharging, but I can’t afford to force it when it isn’t. 

Because the reality is that to find that time, you have to give up something. There isn’t a version of the equation where “finding time” involves creating more time than you already have. The things I can afford to cut out to work on writing are the things I do in my own entertainment time-- I write instead of doing those things at all, or as much. So, I tend to write when it’s the thing I want to do, and enjoy doing, because otherwise it would be an emotional and mental drain I couldn’t afford. When I’m writing a lot in a day, it means I’m not really reading fic or novels, I’m not watching much TV, I spend way less time chatting online, I don’t really scroll tumblr as much, I’m not playing video games. The things I usually do in the bit of time in the afternoons or evenings when I have a chance to just do something I want to do, that’s what I give up to make room. (Sometimes, I give up sleep, but I don’t recommend doing this often. I can’t say I fully regret the times when I’m on a roll and stay up super late, but this really isn’t healthy or sustainable long-term because I’m not in a position to sleep in late-- if you can afford to sleep in late, that might be different.) Two caveats: This is a fact, but not always a conscious decision. Sometimes, I might actually think, “Okay, so I’m not going to have time to watch this tonight after all,” but that’s pretty rare. Usually, if I’m giving up stuff to write, it’s just the natural consequence of really wanting to write and enjoying it and focusing on it. The same as if I’d gotten sucked into a really good book and spent the evening/night reading-- I’m not consciously deciding “I will give up other entertainment options for this today,” as much as I’m just doing the thing I want to do. The second caveat is that I have ADHD! Wanting to write and getting started can be two different things because of my difficulty switching tasks or starting a task. The rule that tends to help me the most are on the days I want to write, or think I want to write, and have stuff I’ve been thinking about writing, but keep not getting started, I give myself ten minutes alone with an open document. A timer, ten minutes, the document, and nothing else. No app switching, no scrolling, no background chores. Those ten minutes of boredom don’t always kickstart writing, but they give me the chance to determine if writing is the thing I actually want to do that day. I get going and I’m on a roll and I ignore the timer when it goes off, or I poke around, maybe write a few words, and the timer beeps and I’m free to go do something else because it’s not a good writing day. 

I’m not always the best at balancing, to be honest. Sometimes, I give up sleep, or put off minor chores. Sometimes, I forget to eat. I do not recommend these, but I think it’s okay if you’re WORKING at balancing and sometimes realize you’ve made an error, as long as you scramble to catch up and give yourself some space to learn. Because my responsibilities are centered around tiny humans, I have a framework of school and meal times I can’t ignore; if your responsibilities are more “quiet” and easier to overlook (like homework, or self-care, or work from home) you might need to just teach yourself to not even open documents until you’ve done certain tasks. Jot down notes if you’re afraid you’ll lose something! But don’t buy into the myth that a “real writer” is completely controlled by impulse and whim. Will there be rare days when you ignore everything else to write for four hours? Maybe! But that shouldn’t be the goal, or the norm, because unless you have a household staff and responsibilities that cater to your whims, it’s really not realistic or healthy. 

The big things are to figure out how to be hard on yourself and how to be gentle with yourself. If you’re too tired, really want to watch a show, overwhelmed by work, just need to talk to a friend or chat server for an hour, it’s okay to just do those things and not feel guilty. Unless you are writing fulltime as your job, it is a hobby and you don’t “have” to achieve a certain level of productivity to be valid as a writer. The times to be hard on yourself are when you know you want to write, and are enjoying the actual process, but your brain isn’t trained to focus on it for stretches of time-- when you’re writing and think of something to tell a friend, wander about a random fact, want to check tumblr when you pause to think about a sentence, that’s when you sternly tell yourself “no, give it thirty seconds before you jump away from this task” and see if you end up getting unstuck with that little breath of boredom space. If you’re really disengaging, that’s okay, but your brain might just need to build the muscle of staying focused on the structure of creative output. It’s a muscle! You might WANT to do fifty pushups, but if you haven’t made your body stick out five for a while, and then ten, and built up, it’s probably not going to cooperate and you’ll feel miserable and broken and useless if you just try to get to fifty the first time. But...building to fifty requires not getting distracted and wandering away when you’ve only done 2 of 5 the week you’re working on sets of five.  My only other recommendation if you haven’t done a lot of writing before is to not fall into the editing trap. Unless you just REALLY LOVE EDITING and it engages and charges you to write more, don’t get stuck in the loop of opening a document or a notebook to write and spending all your time editing the few paragraphs you already have. A lot of the first draft stuff will probably suck. That’s okay. Just finish the thing. You know the cake analogy in fandom? “Write that hurt/comfort, it’s just more cake!”? Getting stuck editing the first bit of a story over and over until it’s polished is sort of like looking at a bowl of three ingredients of a cake recipe and going “This doesn’t look much like cake, maybe if I add more flour...” until you have a bowl full of something that really isn’t cake and isn’t anything closer to cake, no matter how pretty you’ve made those three ingredients look in the bowl. Maybe it’s a very lovely color and has pretty sprinkles on it! Still not a cake. You’ve wasted your limited time, and worn yourself out, and you know you still don’t really have anything closer to a cake to pull out of the oven and show off. The time to edit is when the cake is done and cooling, and you’re making icing and picking out trimmings and cutting up fruit and shaving chocolate or whatever.  And then the next cake will probably be better because you practiced doing the whole thing and have a better idea of what to do and not do the next time. Then, opening a document or grabbing a pen and notebook can be a new, engaging chance to create instead of “oh it’s this same stale bowl of aesthetic half-batter.” (Again, if you find editing as you go super recharging, ignore this-- some people are just very good at tweaking batter as they go without stalling completely-- just give yourself the time to figure that out.)  I hope this helps! Feel free to send follow-up questions or clarifications if I misunderstood something or you want a differently structured answer or just MORE INFORMATIONS.

[writingfortoomanyfandoms]

Fifteen Years Later

Pairing: Calum Hood x Reader

Summary: Set fifteen years after the twins from “I Need You” were born, the Hood children discover just how outlandish some fan theories are

Warnings: Swearing, fan theories

Requested: Nope

A/N: Yeah so this is inspired by discovering some of the theories people had about louis’ son after he was born and I missed this universe so thought it would be fun to add a little more to it. It is technically a Calum x reader fic but it’s mainly just about the kids, but I hope you guys enjoy! As always please remember to let me know what you think - send me asks, reblog and comment, hearing your responses always makes my day a little better and makes me want to keep writing :) and also please don’t take this too seriously, this fic is just a bit of fun, please don’t attack me for it or somethin

“Hey, can I come in?” Maia didn’t wait for Leo to respond before she sauntered into his room and flopped down onto his bed.

“Please, make yourself at home,” Leo said, rolling his eyes a little, making another edit to his essay. “What’s up?”

“I’m bored,” Maia shrugged, pulling out her phone.

“And it’s up to me to entertain you?” Leo questioned, swivelling his chair around to look at his twin with raised eyebrows.

“That’s your job as my dear older brother,” Maia confirmed with a cheesy grin directed towards him.

“I thought twenty seven minutes didn’t count as being older than you?” Leo mused, turning his chair back around so that he could return to work on his homework.

“It does when it’s convenient to me.”

“Nowhere in my job description does it say that I have to entertain you.”

“Arsehole.”

“Bitch.”

Silence fell between the twins as the two of them went about their separate activities - Leo doing his best to finish his homework, Maia scrolling aimlessly on her phone.

The two of them hadn’t shared a room in years. They had moved back to Australia when their mother found out that she was pregnant with their younger sister, Sophie, their parents having wanted to be nearer their own families for the birth of their fourth child.

Leo and Maia had been five when Sophie was born, and they had spent so much of their lives up until that moment being practically attached to the hip that they resented their parents a little for splitting them up.

So it was logical when their parents had their fifth child, Kara, two years later, that Maia and Leo would room together again.

The Hoods moved again when the twins were thirteen, Theodore was eleven, Sophie eight and Kara six, into the house that they still lived in now, with each child having their own room at last.

Calum had taken a lot of time away from the band in recent years, choosing to spend more time with his family.

It had been his idea to move house, understanding that as much as the twins were still still rather inseparable, they did need their own space as they grew into their teenage years. So he had spent months working on the house for them, setting up all of the children’s rooms exactly as they wished, with much help from his best friends, who had also moved back to Australia a few years prior.

And yet it was hardly uncommon to find Maia in Leo’s room - he had gotten first pick of the bedrooms on account of being the eldest, much to Maia’s distaste. It wasn’t that Leo’s room was the biggest of the childrens - no, he had allowed Maia to have the largest room, but it was the placing of it that sparked so much jealousy between the twins.

It was the room that had the best view, overlooking both the garden, which, since moving in, Y/N had spent so long tending to and making it look beautiful.

“Oh my God!” 

“What’s happened?” Leo asked in alarm, not expecting Maia’s outcry. His twin began to laugh.

“Come look at this!”

“What is it?” Leo asked again, rolling his chair across the room, away from his desk and towards the bed to have a look at Maia’s phone screen.

“Fan theories.”

“Fan theories?” Leo repeated, furrowing his brow. “Why’s that so amazing?” 

“Because they’re about Dad!”

“What?” Leo gasped, his eyes widening in surprise.

“Can I borrow your computer?” She asked, already leaping off of his bed towards the laptop on Leo’s desk and opening it, copying the web address that she had been scrolling through on her phone.

“You’ve found some 5sos fan theories?” Leo cackled, moving his chair back in front of his desk as they waited for the website to load.

“They’re insane, as well.”

The twins lapsed into silence as they began to read through the blog posts together, occasionally laughing at some of the more outlandish proposals being made.

Finally, Leo spoke, leaning back a little in his chair with a slight frown on his face.

“So… they think that Dad is actually with Uncle Ash, and that Mum and Aunt Kaykay are just, what - beards?” Leo shot a questioning look to Maia, whose expression remained gleeful as she nodded.

“That seems to be the case, yeah.”

“So… what’s their theory about us?”

“Us?”

“Well… do they think that we’re actually adopted by Dad and Uncle Ash or what? Because there are definitely plenty of photos released of Mum pregnant - especially when she was having Kara,” Leo pointed out.

There was a knock on Leo’s door.

“Yeah?” He called, the door opening to reveal Theodore, his head still buried in a book.

“Tea’s ready,” he mumbled, eyes still intently focused on the pages in front of him.

“Theo - come look at this.”

“I’m busy,” he denied, already beginning to walk away.

“You’ll find it funny!” Maia insisted, grinning over at Leo who rolled his eyes affectionately at their brother’s actions. 

“Doubtful - your sense of humour sucks,” Theodore countered, already halfway down the hallway and about to go downstairs.

“Hey!”

“It’s food time,” Theodore repeated, at last looking up from his book, back down the hallway at his siblings, his expression looking as though he was attempting not to burst into laughter at the look of indignation on Maia’s face.

He didn’t wait for more of a response from her, however, before turning and walking downstairs to where the twins could now hear the sounds of their other family members clattering around in the kitchen and their father singing along to the music playing.

“Hey!” Leo protested when Maia huffed in response to Theodore’s attitude and grabbed her twin’s laptop, slamming it closed and taking it with her downstairs.

Leo gave an exhausted sigh and shook his head before slowly standing up and stretching, following his younger siblings.

The usual chaos greeted Leo as he entered into the kitchen.

Sophie was skipping around laying the table for food, with Kara following her, gripping the knives and forks tightly and looking rather serious as she did so. Theodore still had his head buried in his book but was, at the same time, reaching up into the cabinet nearby the fridge and getting out enough glasses for everyone.

Maia still had Leo’s laptop in hand and was attempting to get the attention of their parents who were stood by the stove, Y/N cooking and Calum leaning against the counter next to it, a grin on his face as he said something to make his wife laugh. 

“Hey - you know the rules, Maia, no gadgets at the table,” Y/N said, finally catching sight of Maia, who had given up her attempts and had slouched into a seat, placing Leo’s laptop on the plate in front of her and pouting.

“That’s not even your laptop,” Calum pointed out, laughing as he crossed the room to place a kiss on the top of his eldest daughters head. “How was your day - you okay?” He added gently.

“Fine - I wanted to ask you two something,” she explained.

“Is it what you were trying to show me?” Theodore piped up from the other side of the room, where Kara was now attempting to help him sort out the drinks for everyone.

“Now you’re interested,” Maia huffed, opening up the laptop.

Calum sat in the chair beside her, looking attentively at the screen, always willing to take time to involve himself in his children’s lives when they gave him the opportunity, eager to listen to whatever it was that they were currently interested in.

“Can’t it wait, sweetheart - food’s ready.” Y/N said, bringing over the food and placing it in the centre of the table, fixing Calum with a look that had him smiling guiltily at her.

“No, this is important!” Maia insisted, ever stubborn and determined to get her way.

“Alright,” Y/N sighed, though it was clear to everyone in the room that she was trying her hardest to suppress her laughter. “What is it?” 

“When were you going to tell us that you’re a beard to hide Uncle Ashton and Dad being together?” Maia questioned shortly, her lips twitching at the edges in her best attempt to maintain a poker face.

Calum choked on the water he had just taken a drink of.

“What’s a beard?” Kara asked, tilting her head to the side and looking at her parents curiously. 

Neither of them answered, Y/N too busy laughing and Calum attempting to collect himself.

There was a smirk on Maia’s face as she, too, looked between her parents.

Sophie was looking equally confused by Maia’s term and even Theodore had looked up from his book to watch the exchange, mild interest on his face.

“What is it?” Kara repeated, looking over to Leo instead, desperate to understand the conversation.

“Maia’s just being silly, K, don’t worry,” Leo assured his youngest sister, sitting down at the table and Kara immediately climbed up onto the chair beside her.

“But what does it mean?”

“Maia’s suggesting that I’m only with Dad to cover up that Dad’s actually with Uncle Ash,” Y/N explained, still grinning to herself at the sheer absurdity of the suggestion. Calum had also begun to chuckle along, his eyes crinkled as he focused on the screen of Leo’s laptop.

“Why would you do that?” Sophie asked, taking the chair beside Kara, swinging her legs under the table as she waited for everyone else to join them sitting down so that food could be served.

“Are you?” Kara questioned in confusion.

“No, sweetheart,” Y/N said and met Calum’s eyes, the two of them grinning at each other. “Just some of Dad’s fans like the idea of him dating Uncle Ash-”

“Or Uncle Mike or Luke,” Calum interrupted knowledgeably.

“Yeah exactly - a lot of it was just about the idea of them being together or just their friendship but there are some occasions where the theories… go beyond that,” Y/N explained, evidently picking her words carefully.

“So you didn’t just have us all for PR?” Leo asked, feigning surprise.

“Of course we didn’t,” Y/N said, rolling her eyes.

“It’s been a while since I’ve looked at fan theories,” Calum said, a certain kind of affection in his voice. “Were you looking at the extreme theories?” He asked, looking interestedly at his daughter.

“They seemed pretty serious that you and Uncle Ash were secretly together - they reckon that you and Mum staged all the photos from when you were kids to make it seem like you had been together for that long.”

“And apparently your management forced you to marry Mum, even though you didn’t want to - something about a morse code pattern that you tapped during an interview once asking for help,” Leo inputted.

“Yeah - I think I read that one as well. I remember being tweeted about it,” Calum confirmed reminiscently.

“You used to read fan theories?”

“Yeah - out of curiosity more than anything,” Calum shrugged.

“I used to get tweeted them a lot,” Y/N added. “Put the laptop away, Maia? Food’s going to go cold.”

“And I’m hungry!” Sophie added, but her cheerful grin was still present.

“Tell Theodore to put his book away,” Maia huffed, annoyance in her voice and looking at Theodore who was sitting opposite her.

“Don’t call me that,” Theodore snapped in response, his eyes immediately flared with anger.

It wasn’t uncommon for Maia and Theodore to butt heads, especially over trivial things.

“Theo, put your book away - Maia, put Leo’s laptop away,” Calum sighed after catching Y/N’s eye.

“But you said you’d look!”

“I will - but after tea, alright?” Calum soothed his eldest daughter.

“Besides - we already know a lot of the more… absurd ones.” 

“Like what?” Sophie asked eagerly, beginning to dish out the food now that everyone was present and ready to eat.

“He’s still reading!” Maia cut her sister off, pointing accusingly at Theodore, who did indeed still have his book laying open on his lap under the table, eyes trained on it.

“Snitch,” he muttered, but closed the book after receiving stern looks from both of his parents.

There was a satisfied smirk on Maia’s face as she relaxed in her chair again. 

Leo caught her eye and rolled his own after catching the expression on his twin’s face.

“I’m confused,” Kara stated after a moment, her young face scrunched up as she stared down at her plate, looking as though she was trying to comprehend ideas way past the understanding that her eight years of age allowed her.

“About what?” Calum asked through a mouthful of food, rewarding him with a scolding look from Y/N that he responded to with a sheepish smile. Kara pointed at Maia, still frowning. “The theories?” Calum suggested before Maia could make some sort of snarky remark and Kara nodded.

“Why would you lie?”

“And why would you have ended up with five kids?” Theodore inputted.

“I read a theory that I got pregnant with someone else to force Calum to stay with me,” Y/N stated casually.

“What?” It was a communal cry of shock from all five children, staring at their mother in complete surprise, while Calum lapsed back into laughter.

“Yeah, some people thought that I got pregnant by someone else, told Calum that the twins were his and so he stayed with me out of duty.” Y/N said, a wry smile on her face, glancing over at her husband. “But that was from people who didn’t like me rather than anything else,” she added.

“What about the people who think Dad and Uncle Ash are together?” Theodore asked curiously, and Leo saw triumph cross Maia’s face at having piqued their brother’s interest.

“Well there are a lot of theories,” Calum said slowly.

“Some think that you guys are actually all adopted by the two of them,” Y/N said. “And that I must live in a shed outside or something to account for why I’m always here.”

“A shed!” Sophie shrieked, laughing and Kara joined in, though looking a little uncertain, just wanting to fit in with her older sister.

“Maybe not a shed precisely, Soph,” Calum laughed. 

“But that’s the gist of it, yeah,” Y/N confirmed. “Oh my God!”

“What?”

“Cal - do you remember when Leo broke his arm?” Her eyes were sparkling with amusement and Calum’s eyes widened, his mouth splitting once again into a wide grin, throwing his head back.

“That was probably one of the most far fetched ones,” he agreed after having recovered a little.

“What about when I broke my arm?” Leo frowned, thinking back to when he was eight years old and had fallen funny during a football match, breaking his arm.

Calum had missed that match - having been called into the studio with Michael to get some recordings straightened out. When Y/N had called him in hysterics in the hospital waiting room, he had rushed straight there. Ashton, Luke and Michael had come along a little while afterwards with the other kids in tow - Ashton and Luke having been babysitting at the time.

“I don’t know if you guys remember - I don’t know why you would - but Ash caught the flu a few days after Leo broke his arm and I remember that there was a theory that I actually rushed off to the hospital to visit him and then management faked Leo’s broken arm to cover up that I was really there to see Ash.”

“They thought I faked having a broken arm?” Leo asked, blinking at his father and frowning.

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“When the twins were first born, the same fans thought you two were dolls.”

“Dolls?” Maia repeated.

“Yep - obviously those nine months that I was pregnant with you had to be fake as I was supposedly ‘over-doing’ the pregnancy symptoms-” Y/N was cut off by Calum’s snort of laughter.

“I forgot that people said that.”

“Lucky you,” Y/N said drily. “And so when you were born there was no way that either of you two could be real - therefore you had to be dolls, made specifically to look like us two and made to look properly human.”

“But… we’re not dolls,” Leo pointed out.

“Maia’s got the personality of one,” Theodore mused.

Maia’s protests were lost under the sounds of Sophie and Kara’s giggles and Leo tried to stifle his own laughter, not wanting to aggravate his twin further.

“That’s enough, Theo,” Calum said, but he, too, looked like he was holding back chuckles. “It was something to do how you always looked the same in every photo, you were always positioned the same or something?” He looked to his wife for conformation who gave a shrug before nodding.

“Something like that.”

“We were babies - what were they expecting from us? Backflips or something?”

“I would’ve been so proud of you if you’d done backflips as a child,” Calum sighed. “As it stands, though…”

“Rude,” Maia huffed, but gave in and smiled at her father’s teasing jab.

“I can do a cartwheel!” Kara inputted, puffing up her chest proudly. “Sophie taught me!” She added, after looking over to find that Sophie was looking at her.

“And that’s why you’re my favourite,” Calum assured her.

This caused an outbreak of protests and grumbling from the other four children, all of whom looked greatly offended despite none of them really taking him at all seriously.

“I’m the eldest, surely I hold some form of special affection in your heart,” Leo complained.

“Eldest by twenty-seven minutes!”

“Those twenty-seven minutes are what hold me in higher standing!”

“You two were researching theories that you’re not really our children,” Calum pointed out. “Kara doesn’t know how the computers work.”

“I do!”

“That’s true - she can get onto Minecraft,” Theodore agreed. “Though it’s understandable you resent Maia and Leo, they are rather annoying at all times.”

“Hey, you weren’t the favourite either so don’t get all high and mighty on us.”

“Why aren’t I the favourite?” Sophie asked, looking genuinely distraught.

“Tell you what - whoever cleans up after tea will rise the ranks of favourite child.”

The effect of Calum’s words were immediate, Sophie, Maia and Leo springing to their feet to help out. Kara giggled as she watched her older siblings playfully fighting over who got to clear away Calum’s empty plate and Theodore rolled his eyes to himself, letting out a long-suffering sigh and picked up his book again.

“You know manipulating your children like this makes you a bad person, right?” Y/N asked as she watched the chaos in the room.

“Well of course it makes me sound like a bad person when you put it like that.”

The sounds of clattering dishes had attracted the attention of the dogs, two of which came bounding into the room, the youngest - a spaniel named Milo -still a puppy, who jumped around yapping at the children. The other dog - also a spaniel, named Bowie - instead came over to the table, licking the hand Kara stretched out for him before walking over to Theodore’s chair, silently begging for attention.

Theodore had always been the child that animals gravitated towards.

Almost absent-mindedly, he dropped a hand down to stroke Bowie’s head and a small smile appeared on his face, though his eyes remained fixedly on his book.

Duke entered the kitchen, age waring him down and making his movements slow. He attempted to bark but seemed a little too tired as he ambled his way over to the table, flopping down next to Calum’s chair.

Calum scooped up the small dog and placed him on his lap.

“Hey, old man.” 

Y/N reached over to pet the elderly dog, a sad smile on her face.

“We’ve done alright, haven’t we?” She asked Calum quietly.

“Theo?” Kara’s voice was quiet from across the table.

“Yeah?”

“Will you read with me again tonight?” She sounded shy asking her brother. Y/N was momentarily distracted from Calum and looked at her two children, Kara looking at her older brother imploringly.

“Of course I will,” Theodore agreed, his voice low but kind and gentle in a way that it only sounded when speaking to his youngest sister or the dogs.

“Yeah - I think we did just fine - maybe not as interesting if half of those theories were true,” Calum said, moving one of his own hands off of Duke’s fur and cupping Y/N’s face gently.

She laughed a little at that.

“Maybe we’d be a little more interesting if they were true,” she agreed, smiling prettily up at him in the way that even now still brought a flutter to his chest.

“But I think we’ve done just fine, Nib.”