#will always remember comedy club night

[palmettoshitposts]

merry christmas guys (1/2)

[harrysfolklore]

the carlos sainz roast

summary: it's carlos' 30th birthday and what a better way to celebrate it than roasting him. wc: 2.8k

folkie radio: happy birthday to the smooooth operatorrrrr. i hontesly LOVED this idea that randomly popped in my head and writing it was sooo much fun, i hope you like it !

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

Carlos Sainz was turning 30. The big 30.

You wanted to do something special to celebrate it, something out of the ordinary that he would never forget. After spending multiple hours on the internet looking for ideas, a brilliant one came to your mind: A roast.

"So all of you will take turns roasting me? Like making jokes about me?" Carlos asked, looking at you from the couch as you pitched him your idea.

"Exactly, baby, It's going to be so much fun!"

The next few weeks flew by in a whirlwind of preparations. You sent out invitations, coordinated with the other drivers, and gathered embarrassing photos and funny stories about Carlos.

The night of the roast, you transformed your living room into a makeshift comedy club, complete with a small stage and a spotlight. Each driver that arrived at your house complimenting your effort.

As everyone settled into their seats, you stood up and tapped your glass with a spoon to get their attention.

"Welcome, everyone, to the Carlos Sainz Roast!" you announced, catching Carlos's eye and winking at him. "We're all here to celebrate the man, the myth, the legend... the one who always leaves the toothpaste open - Carlos Sainz Jr. on his 30th birthday. And what better way to show our love than by mercilessly making fun of him?"

Laughter rippled through your friends as Carlos playfully rolled his eyes, "Thank you, amor, that's very nice of you."

You playfully blew a kiss his way before speaking again, "Now, before we start, let's remember the rules: keep it funny, keep it respectful, and try to speak slowly so Max can understand." You shot a teasing glance at Verstappen, who grinned and shook his head.

"First up, we have Charles Leclerc, Carlos's teammate and the only person who can make Carlos look slow on a good day. Charles, the floor is yours!"

Charles stood up, straightening his jacket as he approached the makeshift stage. He cleared his throat dramatically, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Thank you for that introduction," Charles began, "You know, when I first heard Carlos was joining Ferrari, I was excited. Finally, someone to make me look good! But then I realized, with his luscious hair and chiseled jaw, he was going to steal all my sponsorship deals. So I had to step up my game."

The room erupted in laughter, Carlos included.

"But seriously," Charles continued, "working with Carlos has been an experience. He's like a Spanish version of Google Maps – always recalculating, never quite sure where he's going, but somehow ends up in the right place eventually. That's why I had no doubt in my mind he was going to find an amazing car to drive next season, my bet was on the Safety Car but he opted for an even slower car, a Williams!"

Everyone erupted in laugh again, making Carlos shake his head with his eyes closed, "That one was low, Leclerc."

Charles took a moment to catch his breath, then added with a grin, “And Carlos, now that you’re 30, you’re officially a veteran in the sport. But don’t worry, no matter how many years go by, you’ll always be the guy who can make a Ferrari look like it's in a constant state of panic. Cheers to you, mate!”

You grinned at Charles as he stepped down, patting Carlos on the shoulder. "Alright, that was pretty good, Charles," you said, "But let's see if Lando can top that. Norris, you're up!"

Lando bounded up to the makeshift stage, his trademark cheeky grin plastered across his face. He adjusted the microphone, clearing his throat dramatically.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the birthday boy, Carlos 'Smooth Operator' Sainz," Lando began, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You know, when I first met Carlos at McLaren, I thought, 'Wow, this guy's got it all – talent, looks, charm.' Then I realized it was just his hair products messing with my senses."

The crowd burst into laughter, Carlos included, you ran a hand through his famous locks and he gently grabbed it to place a kiss on your palm.

"If I'm being completely honest," Lando continued, "Carlos taught me so much during our time as teammates. Like how to perfectly time a dad joke in team radio, or how to look devastatingly handsome while finishing P7. Essential skills in F1, really."

The room erupted in laughter once again, with Carlos shaking his head in amused disbelief.

"Carlos, you're one of my best friends," Lando's tone softened slightly, "Even if you did spend most of our time together trying to teach me Spanish pickup lines that work about as well as Ferrari's strategy team."

"But I have a girlfriend and you don't, mate. Even with my bad pickup lines." Carlos jabbed, making you throw your head back in laughter.

As the laughter died down, Lando raised his glass. "To Carlos, the man who proves that you can be devastatingly handsome, irritatingly talented, and still somehow likeable. Happy 30th, mate. May your midlife crisis be as smooth as your overtakes."

Lando stepped down from the stage, approaching Carlos who stood up from his seat to give him a hug.

"Love you, mate," you could hear Carlos say, making you smile.

"Next up, we have Fernando Alonso, Carlos's longtime mentor and fellow Spaniard!" you announced, making everybody clap as Fernando took the stage.

"Ah, Carlos. I've known him since he was just a little karting prodigy. Back then, I thought, 'This kid's going places.' Now, 20 years later, I realize I was right – he's gone to every midfield team on the grid!"

The crowd roared with laughter as Fernando continued, "But seriously, I always thought Carlos had potential, and I was right, he's got the potential to be the second-best Sainz in Motorsports!"

Carlos playfully rolled his eyes, taking a sip from his drink.

"But let me tell you something, Carlos," Fernando's tone softened slightly, "You've made all of Spain proud. You've shown that with hard work, talent, and a famous last name, anything is possible in F1. Well, almost anything, winning a championship might still be a stretch!"

As the laughter died down, Fernando raised his glass. "To Carlos Sainz Jr., the man who proves that you can be a great driver, a fan favorite, and still be overshadowed by your dad at family dinners. Feliz cumpleaños, amigo!"

Fernando stepped down from the stage, approaching Carlos who stood up to give him a warm, laughing embrace. As they parted, you stood up to introduce the next roaster.

"Now, let's hear from someone who's known Carlos since their early days in Formula 1. Please welcome to the stage, the reigning world champion and certified cat lover, Max Verstappen!"

Max sauntered up to the stage, he adjusted the mic and grinned at Carlos.

"If it isn't the new old man of the grid," Max began, earning chuckles from the crowd. "You know, Carlos and I go way back to our Toro Rosso days. I remember when we first met, I thought, 'Wow, this guy's got great hair.' Then I realized that's all he's got!" everyone laughed once again, "Back at Toro Rosso, Carlos was always so dedicated. He'd spend hours studying my telemetry, trying to figure out how to be as fast as me. Spoiler alert: he's still trying!"

The crowd roared with laughter, Carlos included, as he playfully threw a napkin at Max.

"But in all seriousness, Carlos," Max continued with a grin, "you've always been one of the most hardworking and determined drivers on the grid. You never give up, no matter how many times you've been dropped by your teams mid season."

Carlos laughed, raising his glass to Max in a mock toast. "Thanks for the reminder, Max."

"Carlos, you're one of the best guys in the paddock. With your resting bitch face and all, you're always there with a helping hand. Even if your driving skills are debatable," he added with a wink. "Happy 30th, mate."

Max stepped down, and Carlos stood up to give him a hug, both of them laughing. You took the mic once more, "Thank you, Max, for that trip down memory lane. Now, let's welcome to the stage a man who's known for his infectious smile and his matchmaking skills. Please give it up for Daniel Ricciardo!"

Daniel bounded onto the stage with his characteristic enthusiasm, flashing his famous grin.

"G'day, everyone! Carlos, mate, happy birthday!" Daniel began, "You know, I've known Carlos for years, but my proudest achievement was introducing him to his lovely girlfriend, YN," you smiled at this, feeling Carlos squeeze your hand, "I thought to myself, 'This bloke needs someone who can put up with his golf obsession and his constant need for mirror checks.' And boy, did I deliver!"

The crowd erupted in laughter, with you and Carlos exchanging amused glances.

"I remember the day I introduced them," Daniel continued, "I told YN, 'Look, he's a great guy, but be prepared for endless conversations about tyre management and the perfect hair product.' Little did I know, she'd be nodding along enthusiastically!"

You playfully rolled your eyes as the audience chuckled.

"But seriously, folks," Daniel's tone softened slightly, "watching these two together is like watching a perfect pit stop - smooth, efficient, and occasionally involves someone getting sprayed with champagne."

Carlos pulled you closer, placing a kiss on your cheek as everyone 'aww'ed.

"Carlos, mate," Daniel concluded, raising his glass, "you've found yourself a keeper. Someone who can navigate your mood swings faster than you navigate Eau Rouge. YN, love, you've got yourself a man who's smoother than a freshly paved track... at least when he's not tripping over his own feet trying to impress you."

Daniel stepped down from the stage, approaching you and Carlos. You both stood up, enveloping him in a group hug, all three of you laughing and thanking him for his words.

"Alright, that was brilliant, Daniel. Now, let’s hear from let's hear from someone who's about to get very familiar with Carlos's driving quirks. Please welcome to the stage, Carlos's new future teammate, Alex Albon!"

Alex strode up to the stage with a playful grin, adjusting the microphone as he faced the audience.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my new teammate, Carlos Sainz," Alex began, "You know, when I heard Carlos was joining Williams, I thought, 'Great, someone to help push the team forward!' Then I remembered his time at Ferrari and realized he's just as confused about strategy as the rest of us."

The room erupted in laughter, with Carlos good-naturedly shaking his head.

"But seriously, Carlos," Alex continued, "I'm excited to work with you. I mean, who wouldn't want a teammate who's been through more teams than I've had podiums? Toro Rosso, Renault, McLaren, Ferrari... Williams is just the latest stop on the Carlos Sainz World Tour, isn't it?"

Carlos raised his glass in mock salute, chuckling along with the audience.

"I have to say, though, I'm a bit worried," Alex said, feigning concern. "I've seen how competitive you are, Carlos. I just hope you remember that at Williams, we're usually racing against the clock, not other cars. But hey, at least you'll always beat the safety car... probably."

"You know, Carlos, I just realized we have something else in common besides our great hair and questionable career choices. We're both proud members of the 'No Appendix Club'!"

The room burst into laughter, with Carlos nodding in amused agreement.

"That's right, folks," Alex continued, "Carlos and I have both had our appendixes removed. I like to think it makes us more aerodynamic, but let's be honest, in Carlos's case, it's probably just made room for more hair product."

Carlos playfully patted his hair, eliciting more chuckles from the audience.

"But seriously," Alex said, "I suppose this means we're perfectly matched as teammates. We're both down an organ, so when Williams inevitably asks us to give 100%, we can honestly say we're already giving everything we've got - minus an appendix, of course! Happy birthday, teammate, here's to a season of driving a tractor, but at least we'll be together."

Alex stepped down from the stage and approached Carlos, who stood up to give him a hug patting his back.

"Now, let's welcome to the stage a man who needs no introduction, but I'll give him one anyway. Seven-time world champion and fashion icon, Lewis Hamilton!" you said and everyone clapped.

Lewis sauntered up to the stage with his characteristic cool demeanor. "Carlos, my man," he began, "I've got to hand it to you. You've had quite the career. Toro Rosso, Renault, McLaren, Ferrari, next year Williams, it's like you're collecting team merchandise,"Lewis grinned mischievously as he continued, "You know, Carlos, I've got to thank you. You've done such a great job warming up that Ferrari seat for me. It's like you were my personal seat heater all along!"

The crowd roared with laughter as Carlos playfully buried his face in his hands, and you rubbed his back comfortingly while chuckling.

"But seriously," Lewis continued with a grin, "You've made that Ferrari seat look good. I just hope I can live up to your legacy of looking devastatingly handsome while trying to figure out what on earth the pit wall is thinking."

Carlos laughed, shaking his head in mock despair. "Thanks, Lewis. I appreciate the… kind words."

"You know, Carlos, I've always admired your ability to stay positive," Lewis continued his roast, "No matter how many times you've been dropped from teams, you always manage to smile for the cameras. It's like you've mastered the art of looking happy while screaming internally. I'm taking notes mate!"

After a few more jabs Lewis concluded his roast, several other drivers took their turns at the mic, each adding their own flavor to the celebration. George joked about Carlos's infamous beach photos, Pierre told some stories about their Toro Rosso days and even Oscar joked about being surprised about being invited since him and Carlos always push each other off the track.

Finally, it was your turn. You stood up, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness as you approached the stage. Carlos looked at you with a huge smile.

"Well, well, well," you began, locking eyes with Carlos, "what can I say about Carlos Sainz that hasn't already been said? He's talented, he's handsome, and he's the only man I know who spends more time on his hair than I do."

The room filled with laughter as Carlos nodded in mock pride.

"But seriously, living with Carlos is an adventure," you continued, "He's always talking about smooth operations, but let me tell you, there's nothing smooth about the way he leaves his socks all over the house. It's like living in a minefield of sweaty foot prisons."

Carlos threw his head back in laughter along with the rest of the guests.

"And don't even get me started on his competitiveness. Everything's a race with this guy. Brushing teeth? Race. Getting dressed? Race. I'm surprised he hasn't tried to overtake me in bed yet!"

The room erupted in cheers and wolf whistles as Carlos turned a shade of red.

"But in all seriousness," your voice softened, "Carlos, you're the most incredible person I know. You're kind, passionate, and you never give up, whether it's on the track or trying to convince me that paella is a breakfast food."

You raised your glass, "To Carlos, the love of my life and the smoothest operator I know. Happy 30th birthday, mi amor. May your future be as bright as your smile and your pit stops be faster than your hair routine."

As you finished, Carlos stood up, his eyes shining with laughter and love. He pulled you into a tight embrace as the room filled with applause and cheers.

"I love you so much," he whispered into your ear, kissing your temple softly.

"Well, folks, I think we've successfully roasted Carlos to a crisp," you said with a grin. "But before we wrap up, I think it's only fair that the birthday boy gets a chance to respond. Carlos, amor, the floor is yours!"

"Wow," he began, his accent thicker than usual, "I'm not sure whether to feel honored or insulted. But I guess that's the point of a roast, right?" He paused as chuckles rippled through the room. "First off, I want to thank all of you for being here. It means a lot that you'd all take time out of your busy schedules to come and insult me."

Carlos thanked each of his friends with a blend of humor and sincerity, making everyone laugh. He playfully teased Charles about making him look good on track, jested with Lando about the success of his Spanish pickup lines with you, and expressed gratitude to Fernando for his mentorship while vowing to become the best Sainz in motorsports.

"And finally, to my beautiful girlfriend," Carlos's voice softened as he looked at you, "Thank you for organizing this amazing night, and for putting up with me every day. You're the real smooth operator here."

The room erupted in cheers and applause as Carlos stepped down from the stage. You met him halfway, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug once again.

"Happy birthday, amor," you whispered in his ear, pulling away to kiss him softly.

[jungkookschin]

older: sneak peek one

think i need someone older, just a little bit colder, take the weight off your shoulders

READ IT HERE

synopsis: you are obsessed with jungkook, your parents' friends' son, and he adores you. but does jungkook adore you because you've been acquainted since childhood? or because he sees you as a woman? he remembers you obnoxiously doing cartwheels in his room as a kid, but he doesn't remember you becoming so alluring.

word count: 300 (?), actual fic is 17k

pairing: older!jk x afab reader

genre: age gap au (seven years), childhood acquaintance au, fluff, comedy, angsty, outta pocket, alludes to sexual innuendoes

author's note: this is a scene from like the middle of the fic!! if u want to be tagged in the actual fic, lmk! also yn is a snorlax girl and i love that for her

Your arms linked with Yunjin, you skip around from one club to the next, dancing and partying your little hearts out. When the night comes to a close you prance to the local ramen shop by campus.

From a distance, you can already make out Jungkook's figure. He’s always so animated when he’s with his friends, dramatically gesturing and hip thrusting in the air while his friends laugh at his immature jokes. He’s got a cigarette between his pointer and middle finger, taking slow puffs, allowing the smoke to fill his lungs before he tilts his head to exhale a long plume of smoke into the atmosphere. 

That’s right. Jungkook smokes occasionally but never lets you do it. What a hypocrite. 

His eyes drift off for a second until they land on you, and his lips curl up in your presence. 

“Well look, if it isn’t my favorite girl,” he teases, letting out low laughter at the way you crimson when all his friends’ heads whip in your direction. 

You narrow your eyes at him, giving him a dirty look that Jungkook coos at. Even when you were trying to intimidate him you were akin to a cute Snorlax, so adorable, eyebrows pinched and lips pouted- how could he feel anything but adoration at that? 

“Aw angel,” he jests, throwing your words right back at you, “Don’t ignore me, ‘m sorry for teasing you,” he catches you as you walk past him, pulling you towards his chest before resting his chin on top of your head. 

He casually smiles at Yunjin. “How’s my angel been doing? Has she been behaving?”

Yunjin’s jaw drops at the bold statement and you attempt to wrestle out of his firm embrace to berate him. 

“Just kidding. It’s getting late, though. Do you girls need a ride home?” he asks, finally letting you go just for you to stumble out of his grip and almost land on your face, but luckily Jungkook pulls your shoulders back without even looking in your direction. 

“Jungkook, it’s literally 10,” you deadpan. 

“Oh c’mon, I don’t want you girls to get kidnapped or something,” he snarkily responds. 

“How about you give us some money instead?” Yunjin jests, clearly joking, but Jungkook takes it so, so seriously. He raises a brow at both of you. “How much do you need?”

“Wait no- I was kidding,” Yunjin quickly clarifies, her ears becoming slightly red, “you don’t have to..”

Jungkook looks from you to her, then back at you before whipping out his phone, taking another puff of his cigarette before blowing the smoke upwards, careful so you don’t inhale any smoke.

Ping!

Your eyebrows pinch in confusion when you get a notification, and you unzip your mini purse to grab your phone, allowing the screenlight to illuminate your pretty features.  

JEON JUNGKOOK HAS TRANSFERRED YOU 500 DOLLARS VIA HYBETRANSFER.

“250 each, alright?” Jungkook laughs, taking another puff of his cigarette before he saunters off, his friends pushing him around and teasing him. 

“Ayo, when did Jeon turn into a sugar daddy?”

You and Yunjin are left dumbfounded, even more so when Jungkook turns around and makes kissy lips at you. 

You fall to your knees.

[dreamcubed]

me! | george weasley x reader

song; me! [taylor swift, brendon uri(n)e] pairing; george weasley x fem!muggle!reader genre; accidental marriage, s2l, fluff, comedy word count; 7,8k timeline; post-second wizarding war (fred lives au) warnings; swearing, referenced alcohol consumption, references to hook-ups, references to sex, references to the war summary; after waking up in bed with a red-haired stranger and no memories of the night prior, you run off as quickly as you can. it isn't until months later when you're trying to buy a house that you learn that you can't just leave that forgotten night in the past

thought it would be ironic to have the song with the lyrics "i promise that you'll never find another like me" and "i'm the only one of me" with one of the twins lol

masterlist

"you're the kinda guy the ladies want."

————————————————

Typically, you were more responsible than this. You had always stayed away from drunk hook-up culture, hoping (perhaps too idealistically) to find organic love. Yet, on the night of your cousin's bachelorette party, you got so drunk that you found yourself in bed with a stranger the next morning. And you didn't know what to do.

All you could do for a few moments was look around the hotel room that you had evidently decided was necessary for the hook-up - and although you couldn't remember a single thing after your tenth shot at the club, the fact you were both naked gave away the events of the night prior.

He was red-haired, and quite nicely toned, but he also donned a partially missing ear. You couldn't see his face, so at that particular moment you couldn't judge whether or not drunk you had good taste. You pushed that thought aside - that was the least of your concerns. You needed to get out of there and forget that anything had ever happened, which shouldn't be too difficult thanks to the alcohol-induced memory loss.

So, with that, you slipped out of bed and scavenged for all your clothes around the room, and then quickly departed. You made it all the way down to the lobby without any human interaction, but it was there at the desk that you finally had to communicate.

"Heading out for a bit, Mrs Weasley?" the receptionist smiled at you.

You frowned, not understanding why they would address you as such - probably had mistaken you for someone else. But, you were in a hurry, so just grinned and nodded, leaving to never return.

***

Not many people were fortunate enough to buy their first home (alone) at the age of twenty-four without any help from their parents, but you had chosen a rather well-paid career path and had been meticulous with your money savings, so this was a reality for you. After a few months of working with a real estate agent to view houses and find the perfect home for you, you had finally come to a decision.

You had stumbled upon it really, when travelling from London to visit your family, you came across a road that you had sworn hadn't been there before. Curiosity had overcame you, and you had driven down it to find the cutest village named Godric's Hollow, which could also be described as peculiar. A lot of things in the village didn't make sense - like the fact they all seemed bewildered at the sight of your car - but the architecture was gorgeous. When you drove past an adorable rustic cottage with a 'for sale' sign out front, you didn't even have to think twice about viewing it.

It was a strange process, however, as the sign didn't have a number for the real estate agency, but instead read 'owl Cauldron Realtors for more details'. You asked around for information about Cauldron Realtors (a particularly strange name, comparable to the robes many of the older members of the village wore), and they pointed you in the direction of the realtor's.

From then on, the process to view the house and apply for a mortgage had been relatively normal, if not a bit old-fashioned in the lack of technology used. However, you reasoned that it was a small village and that they merely hadn't updated themselves like cities just yet.

***

"Why have you asked me to come here?" you asked as delicately as you could upon entering Cauldron Realtors.

"We have had something come up," Mr Linseed said to you. He was an eccentric old man, constantly adorning a pair of half-moon spectacles perched on the tip of his nose.

"Like what?"

"You told us that you weren't married."

You frowned.

"And I thought it was a bit strange given your muggle situation, but honestly I had simply assumed that you were a squib."

He was using a lot of words that you didn't understand. You had heard the word muggle passed around in the time that you had spent in Godric's Hollow, but had been unable to find out what it meant online or in any dictionary. Everyone used it so commonly you had felt too embarrassed to ask.

"Obviously, this changes the process for you to apply for a mortgage. We need your husband to sign off either that he will partially own the house or have no claim over it."

"I don't understand- I'm not married," you said.

"No?" the man raised a brow at you, "When we searched for legal documentation of your name, we found that it hadn't been Y/N L/N for a few months, but instead Y/N Weasley. I didn't think much of you not having gotten around to changing your bank details yet since it hasn't been long, but going by your maiden name is a little strange. So, I assumed that the marriage was short-lived."

Why did Weasley sound so familiar? You wracked your brain for when you had heard it before.

"Heading out for a bit, Mrs Weasley?"

Your eyes widened.

The guy from the hotel.

"What did you say my husband's name was?" you said slowly.

"I didn't, but George Weasley," Mr Linseed replied, "You knew that, though, correct?"

You nodded, "Yeah... just making sure."

The man frowned at you, "He is quite well-known I suppose - the shop Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes is quite famous. Anyhow, here are the new forms that I need you to fill out and then we will be back on track."

You accepted them in a daze, but snapped your eyes up towards him again, "Where can I find Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?"

"Diagon Alley, of course," Mr Linseed was clearly confused that you didn't know where your husband worked.

You had never heard of Diagon Alley, and he sensed that.

"You know? Through The Leaky Cauldron? On Charing Cross Road?"

Finally, a name you recognised.

"Oh, yes. Thank you, Mr Linseed, I'll be back soon."

God, what a process to get yourself a house.

***

You were pretty sure that in all your visits to Charing Cross Road, you had never seen that pub squeezed between those buildings before. But, you weren't about to complain, as you were desperate to find George Weasley and sort everything out. You couldn't remember his face, but you remembered his red hair and partially missing ear - that should be enough to identify him.

You hoped, anyway.

Upon entering the gloomy pub, you were met by quite a shocking sight - but one that wasn't entirely indifferent to Godric's Hollow. Except, you would describe the pub as having a more creepy ambiance, in a way. Beady eyes peered in your direction as you walked up to the bar, and you tried to hold your own as a woman with matted grey hair and disturbingly long fingernails smiled at you with missing teeth. You forced a smile back.

"Excuse me," you said to the bartender, who was similar to the woman in energy, "How do I get to Diagon Alley?"

He pointed to the door out the back.

"Just through that door?"

"You'll need your wand too," the woman who had smiled at you said, "To tap the wall."

"Wand?" you squeaked.

"I'll show you," the woman said eerily.

In any normal circumstance, you would have declined the offer, but you had already had so many new experiences you found yourself following her out the back.

"You're not one of us, are you?" she asked with a giggle of glee, pulling out a wooden stick from her pocket.

You didn't reply, watching as she brought it up and tapped some of the bricks on the wall. To your amazement, they then parted, presenting to you the most bustling and magical street that you had ever seen.

"Diagon Alley," she stated, "Although I prefer Knockturn Alley."

You thanked her, and hurried into the street.

***

The pet shops were strange: mostly having owls, cats and toads. The book shops were strange: having cages of moving books in the display windows. The clothes shops were strange: pretty much exclusively selling robes and pointed hats. All in all, Diagon Alley was the most eccentric place you had ever been.

There was a broomstick shop, a wand shop, and a place to buy cauldrons. You were so out of your depth that you decided you should focus on the task at hand.

It wasn't long before you found a bright and buzzing shop named Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, looking ten times more exciting than all the shops before it. You were almost overwhelmed with all the young people inside once you entered, and it finally became obvious to you that it was a joke shop. The numerous prank items on display were clearly enchanted in a way too, only furthering your amazement at this street.

You scanned around for a redhead, but it was really difficult to spot anything within the chaos. Eventually, you located a flash of red by the till and hurried over. The queue was unfortunately long, but you waited impatiently nonetheless.

When you finally reached the front, the red-haired man behind it looked at you, and you couldn't help but noticed he had two full ears.

"Are you buying anything, miss?"

"I'm looking for George Weasley," you said quickly.

He rose an eyebrow at you, "What for?"

"It's a long story, I really need to talk to him."

"I'll fetch him," he said, and disappeared out back for a few moments before returning with a man almost identical to him save for that all-too-familiar ear. He didn't look at you like he recognised you - maybe he drank so much he had memory loss too? That would make sense, considering he hadn't tried to find you either.

"Can I help you?" George Weasley asked, gesturing for you to move to the side so that his twin could continue at the till.

"This is gonna sound crazy, but," you took a deep breath, "You're my husband."

"You're right, that does sound crazy," he chuckled.

"You woke up in a hotel room a few months ago, right?"

His eyes widened, "I thought I hooked up with someone," he said, "Wasn't sure, though, because I woke up alone."

"Sorry about that. I don't really do hook-ups, I kinda freaked out and bolted."

"I don't really do hook-ups either," he shrugged, "No hard feelings."

"Anyway, as I said, it turns out we got married that night."

"Wow. I honestly can't remember anything."

"Me neither," you shook your head, "And we can't get an annulment - the cut off is three months. And we were way too efficient with sending off the marriage registration - we did it immediately."

He hummed, "That's quite a predicament. Divorce, then?"

You nodded, "Yes, obviously. But that will take ages, and I'm trying to buy a house for myself right now. I need you to sign off that you have no claim over it."

"That's no problem," thank God he was agreeable, "But what's your name?"

"Y/N L/N," you said, "Well, legally Y/N Weasley."

The man smirked at you, which admittedly made your stomach flip. Drunk you definitely had good taste: this man was gorgeous.

"Where's the house you're buying?" he asked.

"Godric's Hollow."

"Ah, my sister lives there," he hummed, "Nice village."

"Can I ask you a question - since you're my husband and all?" you didn't know why you added the last bit.

"Fire away."

"Why does everyone keep going on about muggles and wizards and witches and magic? I'm so lost, I don't know what's happening."

"Wait- you're a muggle?"

"As everyone apparently keeps saying."

He chuckled, "Oh, wow. My wife's a muggle."

"What does it mean?"

"I'll explain," he gestured towards the door to the back room, "But it'll be a lot to take in."

"I don't care, I just want an explanation."

And so, your husband, George Weasley, explained about the wizarding world that he was a part of. And how, by marrying him, you had automatically been granted permission by the Ministry of Magic to be an exception for all anti-muggle charms. Which was why you discovered the road to Godric's Hollow all of a sudden as a non-magic person, which you learned was what muggle meant.

At the very end of his explanation, you sat back in the armchair he had offered to you, "That explains so much. It's insane- but I'm relieved that it's not me going crazy."

"Must be quite a shock," he hummed, "I can't believe we got married. Are there any photos?"

"I mean, I suppose we could find the chapel we got married at and ask."

"Maybe it will trigger some memories of that night. I got drunkenly married - who knows what else I did?" he sighed.

"I don't know if I want to know."

George shrugged, "Better to find out that way than have a random woman come into your place of work and announce she's your wife."

You grimaced, making him laugh.

"I'm just teasing."

"Can I get your number? So I can contact you when I need to?" you asked.

George stared at you, "Number?"

"How do wizards and witches communicate?" you exasperated.

"By owl."

You blanked.

"You might want to get yourself one if you're moving into a wizarding village."

"How do they know where to go?"

"They just do."

You sighed.

***

"So, I phoned the chapel that we got married at and they confirmed that we signed the marriage registration and sent it off immediately," you said to George, taking a seat opposite him in your flat that you currently resided in, "They also posted this to me." You presented a large envelope to your husband and watched as he carefully opened it - even though it was already unsealed thanks to you.

He pulled out a marriage certificate: lettered in italic gold writing and clearly signed on the bottom two corners. As he pulled that out, another piece of card fluttered to the ground. You chewed your lip as you watched him pick it up.

"Wow," was all he said.

It was the same reaction you had when looking upon the photo of you and George at the alter: lips pressed together with smiles creeping on to your faces.

"We look so happy."

You hummed, "The photo hasn't triggered any memories for me."

You watched curiously as he waved it about. "It's weird that muggle photos don't move," he commented, "But- yeah- I can't remember anything more either."

"Maybe it's been too long," you reasoned, "Perhaps if we'd seen the photo the day after, it would've helped."

"Probably," he shrugged, "I can find a charm or potion that will help us remember - if you want to."

It hadn't occurred to you that magic was now a readily available tool.

"I'm not sure, to be honest," you said after a while, "I just really want to seal the deal on my house."

George nodded, "Of course, I'll sign the papers saying I have no right to it."

"Thank you for making this so easy," you said, giving him a warm grin, "When I found out I was married, I was so worried it was to a complete asshole."

"When I found out I was married, I thought it was simply a cute way a gorgeous woman had of flirting with me."

You felt heat rush to your cheeks at his comment. George was a stunning man: his damaged ear only added a rugged element to him, enhancing his beauty in a way that you didn't know possible.

He noticed your flustered reaction and chuckled a bit, "However, there is one problem with me signing those papers that your real estate agent really should've mentioned."

"What?" you filled with worry: that house was your dream house.

"If you're buying a house in the wizarding world, you're going to need a wizarding bank account."

"He kept going on about galleons," you thought for a moment, "But then he converted to pounds so I didn't think much of it."

George hummed, "Yes, but you're still going to need to pay in galleons."

"How do I get a wizarding bank account?"

"Only wizards, witches, squibs and muggles married to any of the former can access one. Oh, and muggles with magic children, even if they aren't married."

You realised what he was getting at. "So I can get one, but..."

"But it has to be a shared one with me."

You pulled your hands down your face, "But I love that house so much."

"I promise you I'm not trying to trap you."

"No, no- I get it. I just- that means I'd have to stay married to you until my mortgage is paid off. And that takes like thirty years."

"Even then, the bills would still need to be paid in galleons."

"Oh, fuck," you muttered, "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

George watched you in silence.

"I'm sorry. I'll divorce you and forget about the house," you said eventually, "It's not fair for me to force you to stay in a marriage for the rest of your life - I mean, I can't force you."

"I didn't say anything about that."

You frowned. In your mind, there was no other option.

"I'm willing to do it."

"George, it's just a house, you really don't need to-"

"I will," he reiterated, "You realise that if you divorce me, you won't be able to access the magic world anymore?"

It had become something you were so excited to explore that you were disheartened by that fact.

"It would be cruel for me to take it away from you, I think."

"But-"

"So, I will set you up on my bank account, sign off on the house, and stay married to you."

Your mouth was opened wide as you stared at him, and in a flash you had leaped across the coffee table in order to pull him into a hug.

"You're so amazing," you mumbled, hugging him tighter as he returned the embrace, "Thank you so much."

"Hey, anything for my wife," he chuckled.

Your heart stopped.

***

"I've had to change my name on my driver's license and passport and bank account and everything else," you sighed, "Such a hassle for a fucking house."

George, who was walking with you throughout the empty house that you had just officially bought, chuckled, as he seemed to enjoy doing, "You must really love this place."

You shrugged, "The house, I would probably get over. An entire magical world that I would lose access to? Not so much."

He hummed, gazing around the place. You had decided that he at least deserved to see the property that he had given up so much for you to own.

"I can't wait to begin decorating," you sighed, "I have big plans for the downstairs rooms and the master bedroom."

"What about the other bedrooms?"

"I'm not sure, to be honest," you pondered, "I'll probably make one of them an office, but the other two, I honestly don't know. It'll be a while before I have any kiddly winks running around."

"How come?"

"I need to find a man to create them with first," you reminded, "And that will be especially complicated since I'm married."

"Not if it's with me."

You were pretty sure his words held a joking undertone, so you laughed.

"Well, I shan't keep you any longer," you said, "I guess we'll keep in touch?"

"Stop by my shop as much as you can," George replied, but you sensed a slight trace of sadness in his voice.

Nonetheless, you smiled, "Of course."

***

Was two days later too soon to take George up on his offer of stopping by? Maybe, but life was too short for you to not do the things that you wanted to do. Plus, you were exhausted from moving furniture and painting (since you were stuck doing it the 'muggle' way), so a getaway from your new home was needed.

After getting someone from the Leaky Cauldron to let you into Diagon Alley, you made your way down to the corner that Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes sat on. You couldn't help the fond smile that tugged on your lips as you pushed open the door and heard the tinkle of the bell above you. The last time you were there, you had been too nervous about meeting your husband to properly appreciate the joyful buzz of the shop; it was truly a marvel to witness. You wish you had grown up with access to such extraordinary things.

"Hello," a redhead popped up beside you.

You jumped a little, not failing to notice the fact this man, although initially appearing to be George, had two full ears.

"Hello... Fred?" you attempted to recall his name.

He nodded, "I must say, I wasn't expecting my sister-in-law to pop by today."

It hadn't occurred to you that George would have mentioned his marriage to his twin brother, but now it seemed obvious that he would have.

"Is my husband here?" you asked, adding a joking undertone. Nonetheless, you couldn't help but notice how warm saying that made you feel.

"Of course, he's out back."

"Should I...?" you trailed off.

"You don't need to ask permission to go out back," he chuckled, in a strikingly similar way to George, "You're married to one of the owners."

"Yeah, but-" but before you could finish your sentence, your brother-in-law had disappeared. With a sigh, you proceeded on your way to the staff-only space, unable to push aside how special you felt being able to freely enter the area.

It was only when you caught sight of George's back did you realise that you had nothing to say and had simply stopped by.

"Y/N!" he smiled, turning around upon sensing your presence, "What brings you here?"

You shrugged, "You said to stop by often."

His grin stretched wider, "That I did, I'm glad to see you."

You felt shy after hearing him say that, and avoided eye contact.

"How's moving in going?"

"Oh- well. Exhausting, though," you sighed.

"I can't imagine having to do everything without magic," he said, "If you want any help to speed up the process, I'm more than willing."

You shook your head, "You've done enough for me."

"I could never do enough for you," he half-mumbled, but you heard it. You couldn't believe it, but you heard it. "I'm free this weekend," he said at a more regular volume.

"I mean- if you're sure-"

"Of course I'm sure."

"I-" you stopped yourself, "Thank you, George."

"Georgie!" a voice called from the front of the shop, not long before a short plump woman appeared in the doorway. "There you are," she said with hands on her hips.

"Oh, hi, mum," he said, "I wasn't expecting you."

"I was just in town looking to pick up your father a new shirt - I don't know how he wears them out so quickly!" she sighed, "I thought I'd take the chance to invite you over for a roast on Sunday."

You smiled at the evidently kind woman.

"And who is this?" she asked.

"This is Y/N."

"How did you two meet?" this time she had a glint in her eye.

"Uh, funny story, actually," George scratched the back of his head, "We're married."

You were surprised at his honesty with his mother.

The woman's eyes widened, "And you didn't tell me!"

"No one knew, mum- not even us," he quickly added.

She seemed to ignore what the last part of his statement implied, and swooped you into her arms, "Welcome to the family, my dear, we have a lot of time to make up for! You'll be coming on Sunday too, yes?"

She didn't give you a chance to reply.

"I'll have to tell your father immediately - do all your siblings know? I expect Fred does. Probably Ron too." She paused, "I haven't even introduced myself! Molly Weasley - call me Molly, of course."

"Mum-"

"Godric- I have so many people to tell! I'll see you both Sunday at four o'clock, please don't be late."

And with a hug to both of you, Molly Weasley departed just as rapidly as she had arrived.

"I'm sorry about that- my mum can be very full on," George apologised.

"I think she's sweet."

A soft smile graced his face, "Yes, she's a very lovely woman."

You hummed.

"I'll get you out of the dinner."

You frowned, "Why?"

"Well, my family will think you're- well-"

With a shrug, you replied, "I don't mind."

"I have a big family."

"I know."

"Most of them are quite loud people."

"That's okay."

"They'll ask a lot of questions."

"George, I want to meet your family," you realised as soon as you said them what your words could potentially mean.

"It's just- I- I don't want them to scare you away."

"Scare me away?"

He nodded.

You chuckled, "I'd like to see them try."

***

Sunday rolled around quickly, and as promised, George showed up at your house to pick you up at five to four. You figured that his parents must live very nearby if he was picking you up so late, but you hadn't given it much thought. All you had done was focused on yourself, dressing up what you deemed the adequate amount for a family event.

A knock sounded on the door, and you quickly rushed to open it, smiling when you were faced with the red headed man that you could call your husband. He was wearing a knitted jumper and baggy jeans, which was a relief to you since you also sported a knitted jumper, just with a skirt instead.

"Hello," you said, almost shyly.

"Hey," he replied, "You ready to go?"

"Yep, let me just-" you hurried back inside to grab the bouquet of flowers that you had bought for his mother, you weren't familiar with the guidelines for meeting family as you had never been in a relationship long enough to reach that stage, but flowers had felt like the right thing.

"Oh, for me?" he said teasingly.

You shook your head, dramatically holding them away from him, "You would be so lucky."

He chuckled, "Right, let's get going," he held out his arm for you to take, "You're gonna want to hold tight."

You frowned, but took his advice nonetheless, taking a firm grip of his bicep which had a hardness that made your heart flip. But before you could dwell on that thought, you felt like you had been sucked into a vacuum and spat out again in a split second. Your stomach cramped up and you felt nauseous as you fell on to grass in a completely new location.

"Sorry, that often happens the first time," George quickly helped you up along with the flowers, which thankfully were unharmed.

"Did we just- teleport?" you asked, holding your stomach. Thankfully, the nausea was already dissipating.

"We call it apparating but yes, we did."

"Why couldn't I be born a witch?" you whined, following George as he began walking up the path ahead of you.

You could only be amazed when the strangest house that you had ever seen came into view: looking like it should tumble over instantly with the mismatched extensions stacked on top of each other. Not too long ago, you would have been worried about its sketchy looking state, but now you immediately concluded that it was kept steady by magic. Even at the distance you still were from the house, you could hear a lot of noise coming from it.

"I bet you anything Fleur and Hermione insisted on being early," George grumbled, "Making my brothers look like angelic sons."

You smiled to yourself: his relationship with his siblings was making you want to reach out to your sister.

George didn't bother knocking when you reached the door, simply throwing it open and grinning at everyone who was stood around the kitchen. You couldn't help but feel some level of nerves as you were faced with so many strangers.

"George! Y/N!" Molly beamed, pulling you both into a hug, "I'm so glad that you could make it."

You presented the flowers to her, "I got you these."

"Oh, they're gorgeous!"

You watched as she pulled out her wand and arranged them in a vase without even using her hands. You didn't think observing magic would ever get old.

"Thank you, dear," she said, before turning to the others in the room. There was Ron, who you vaguely recognised from the shop, with a curly brown-haired woman on his side. Then there was the most ethereal woman that you had ever seen next to one of the more rugged looking men that you had seen in your time. There was also an older, balding, red headed man, who you suspected to be George's father.

"Y/N, you might remember Ron here," George said, and you nodded, "And this is his fiancée, Hermione. This is my dad, and over there is my oldest brother, Bill, and his wife, Fleur."

"Our little shit of a son is running around here somewhere," Bill added.

"Pleasure to meet you, Y/N," George's father shook your hand, "You can call me Arthur."

"I didn't realise you were bringing a guest, George," Hermione said.

"Oh, she's no guest," Molly smiled, "She's family."

The only person who didn't exchange confused glances was Ron.

"I'm his, uh, wife," you said, feeling awkward. You didn't really want to say it, because it felt like you were lying to them even though you weren't.

What followed was an array of congratulations, and Hermione accusing Ron of not telling her when he clearly already knew. And then, upon being asked, you both finally revealed that it was an accidental marriage upon which you were both very drunk. Molly was new to this news as well, but nonetheless, before you could give any more detail on where your 'relationship' with George currently stood, she spoke.

"As irresponsible as that was, I think there's something beautiful in the fact that you're now happily married."

While you weren't unhappily married, you didn't know how to say that you didn't know you were married until a couple months later, and that you weren't in a relationship with George. He said nothing to clarify, either.

That was when a small boy tumbled into the room.

"Ah, zis is Victoire," Fleur said, "Our son."

He was just as red headed as his father.

God, your kids with George would probably end up redheaded.

You internally froze at that thought - why had it seemed so natural to imagine yourself having kids with George?

You were yet again distracted from your mind, as seemed common in the Weasley household, when more people arrived. It was Fred and his fiancée, Angelina, as you soon learned. Shortly followed by Harry Potter, allegedly quite a celebrity, who was dating George's only sister, Ginny.

The only person to arrive alone was Percy, who had a much less chaotic energy than the rest of his siblings.

"You'll meet Charlie at some point," Molly said to you, "But he lives in Romania for his work with dragons."

It was insane to you that George had five brothers and one sister; having six siblings seemed like such a hectic upbringing. That thought almost led you to brush over Molly's mention of dragons - dragons?

Once again, you were introduced as George's wife, solidifying you in their eyes as a sister-in-law. These were your in-laws, you realised.

"Dinner's almost ready," Molly announced over the noise of all the people.

Many people rushed forward to help the woman with the finishing touches and laying the table, and you felt like an ass for not assisting as well, but you would have been of no help. They were all using magic, which was ten times faster than you could complete any task.

"What year did you graduate school? I can't remember you," Ginny said, evidently assuming that her lack of recognition was because you had been in a different year at Hogwarts from her. George had told you how most witches and wizards in a similar age group knew each other because of there only being one magic school in the country.

"I didn't go to Hogwarts," you said.

"Oh, did you study abroad?" she asked, walking over to the table with you.

"No, uh, I'm a- I'm a muggle."

Her eyes widened in realisation, "Oh! I see," she hummed, "That makes sense now that I think about it."

"You're a muggle?" Hermione, who had overheard, said.

You nodded.

"I'm muggle-born," she said, "I was raised muggle."

"I was raised muggle too," Harry added on, "But I'm not muggle-born."

After that point, Arthur Weasley kept posing an array of questions to you, explaining that he was fascinated by muggles, and it was even what had led him to having the job that he did. Wanting to be liked, you answered all his questions as best as you could, and found his childlike curiosity quite endearing.

"Leave the poor girl alone, Arthur," Molly scolded her husband.

"I don't mind," you replied, and, really, you didn't.

The food was absolutely delicious, to the point you almost moaned when you first put it in your mouth. You didn't think you had ever eaten such delectable food before, and you made sure that Molly knew.

Once the first course was finished and dessert was being brought out, Bill and Fleur stood up.

"We have an announcement to make," the latter smiled, looking to her husband.

"Fleur's pregnant," Bill grinned, placing his hand on her abdomen.

"Oh, that's wonderful news!" Molly exclaimed, "How far along?"

"Twelve weeks, two days ago," Fleur said, "In ze clear zone, as zey say."

"We don't know the gender yet," Bill added.

"For your sake I hope it's a girl," Molly sighed, "It took me six tries."

"We will be happy eizer way," Fleur said simply.

You couldn't help but get the sense there was some level of tension between her and Molly, so you leaned over to George as everyone began chatting again, congratulating the expecting couple.

"Do your mum and Fleur get along?" you whispered.

"Well, yes, but they haven't always," he whispered back, "My mum thought she was vain at first, even thinking that she would call off the wedding when Bill got that scar." He was referring to the large mark on his eldest brother's face.

You hummed.

"They've mostly resolved their problems now, but I think there will always be a bit of tension."

After dinner, you wandered around the home, observing all the moving pictures of the family.

"Aw, you were so cute back then," you said to George, looking at a photo of him as a toddler on a mini broomstick.

"Are you saying I'm not anymore?"

You shrugged.

"And how do you know that's me and not Fred?"

"You may be a twin, but there's only one of you, George," you said in passing, not realising how much those words meant to your husband. As much as he loved being an identical twin, there were times where he didn't want to be seen as part of a package deal. Even his mother struggled to tell him and Fred apart before his ear injury, but you- you could recognise him instantly.

Your gaze moved up the wall.

"That's an interesting clock."

It didn't tell the time, but instead had a hand for all of Molly and Arthur's brood, all currently pointing in the direction of 'home' apart from who must be Charlie, which pointed at work.

"Even on Sundays, he works," George sighed, "You know, there was a time where me and Fred had the same hand."

"Really?"

"Yeah, but after he moved in with Angelina, mum had it altered."

Your eyes flicked over the 'mortal peril' section of the clock, and you didn't realise you had read it aloud til he responded.

"Thankfully that hasn't served a purpose since the war."

It was unbelievable to you that such a life-changing war had happened while you remained completely oblivious.

"I suppose we'll have to expand the guest list for our wedding," Angelina approached you, making you turn away from the clock.

"Oh, you don't have to do that," you said.

"No, no. An extra person is hardly anything," she smiled, "You're family, of course you're coming."

Family.

"Well, thank you."

"Of course."

***

As you and George said your goodbyes and departed, you couldn't help but let out an elated sigh, "Your family is so warm."

He smiled, "I'm glad you like them."

"They're like, everything I want my in-laws to be."

"Really?"

"Yeah! Loud, happy, there for each other - with the slightest hint of drama, of course. They're perfect."

"We've been through a lot together."

"Yeah, I expect so."

You both fell into a comfortable silence, one that had you feeling content with your life in the most heart-warming way.

"You ready to apparate again?" George broke the silence when you reached the end of the path.

"As ready as I'll ever be," you grasped his arm tightly, prepping yourself for what was to come.

You didn't fall to the ground this time when you appeared outside your house, but you did still feel nauseous for a few moments.

"I'm really glad you came," George said.

"I'm glad too," you smiled.

And then there was silence - tension-filled silence. The kind of silence that led up to what you had secretly hoped would happen this entire time.

His lips on yours.

You moved your hands up to his hair as the kiss got more heated, flashes of memories dancing through your brain.

You met at the bar your cousin's bachelorette party was at, and began chatting. He was charming, and funny, and you were both really drunk. You went on a walk together - you walked past a chapel.

You had suggested getting married - jokingly, but he had then said.

"Why don't we?"

And so you did, giggling and laughing the entire time, even when you kissed. The kiss held the same magical feeling as it did now, that's what had triggered the memory.

He had kissed all along your jaw and neck as you both filled out the forms, and it wasn't long before you both booked a hotel and by all technical terms, consummated.

"I remember," you parted from him breathlessly, only to kiss him again.

"Me too," he mumbled, pushing you back against your front door.

"Do you want to come in?" you asked.

***

This time, you were the one to wake up alone in bed, but that wasn't the only difference. You remembered every single moment and sensation from the night before - and from your wedding night, for that matter. A smile almost crept on to your face, but it dropped when the panic set in that George had upped and left like you had before. You scrambled out of bed, pulling a shirt and some pants on, and then rushed down the stairs to see if he was anywhere in your house.

And he was.

There your husband was, in the kitchen, cooking a full English breakfast - using magic, of course. You had electric appliances installed when you moved in, since most magic homes didn't generally possess them, but with George there, you supposed they weren't really necessary.

"Hey, love."

Love. That's what he had called you all of last night and your wedding night.

It made heat travel to your ears.

"Hi," you replied shyly.

"Take a seat, I'm almost finished."

You obeyed, deciding to let the wizard take care of you, even though he really had done too much for you ever since you met him - the second time, that was.

Your dining table was a temporary one, as your entire home was still a work in progress: it wasn't easy decorating an entire house by yourself, especially without the assistance of magic. Nevertheless, it did the job. George came over with the food and sat opposite you, gesturing for you to dig in.

"Thank you," you smiled, picking up the cutlery.

"I told you, anything for you."

"You're too perfect," you mumbled, making George chuckle.

"My ear may be injured, but my hearing's fine."

You looked up at him to make eye contact, feeling like he could read you with his gaze, "Your ear makes you even more perfect."

"I'm glad you think so, would be a bit upsetting for me if you didn't."

"I aim to please," you grinned.

***

"You didn't tell me the wedding would be quite so soon," you huffed, straightening out the pastel pink dress you adorned in the mirror.

George shrugged, tightening his tie, "Didn't think about it."

You were, of course, in reference to Angelina and Fred's wedding, merely two weeks after the dinner in which you met the former. Out of all the moving boxes you still had left to unpack, you had been forced to dig for a suitable outfit that fitted the colour scheme.

Aside from work, you and George had been practically glued at the hip in the days since he first stayed at yours - and he had been consistently staying at yours ever since. He had probably spent about three nights total at his own flat in that time span. So much to the point that when he came over the day prior, he had brought his suit for the wedding with him, fully anticipating that he would be spending the night.

You hadn't put a label on what you currently were, other than legally married, as it was.

"We have to be early," he said, "Since I'm the best man."

"I'm aware," you replied, sitting on the edge of your bed to pull your shoes on, "I'm pretty much ready."

"Alright, let's go."

***

The ceremony was a beautiful occasion: held at the Weasley house, The Burrow. The entire garden was decorated beautifully in shades of pink, purple and white, with bouquets of flowers adorning every table and chair. Obviously, a drastic difference from your own wedding.

You were sat in the crowd while George was up near the altar with the maid of honour, but he was not your focus. Angelina was a transcendent bride.

When it came to the meal, you were - to your shock - sat on the primary table where the newly weds were. You supposed that it made sense, since George was obviously going to be sat by his twin brother, and you were his wife. Generally, married couples weren't separated at events. You were certainly relieved, since you hardly knew anybody else.

The only other people on the main table were Molly, Arthur, Angelina's parents, and Angelina's maid of honour and her partner. There was a second table for the rest of the Weasley siblings and their partners, and so on and so forth for more distant relatives and friends.

Once the toasts were made, the meal commenced, and you hadn't realised how hungry you were 'til that moment.

"Slow down, love," your husband commented, "I'd prefer if you didn't choke."

You shrugged, your mouth full. Once you had eventually swallowed, you said, "Much grander event than our wedding."

"We could always renew our vows," he said, and even though he had made many comments about wanting to do anything for you, and had done many intimate things to you in the bedroom (and elsewhere in your house, for that matter), it felt like the first real confirmation that you were in a relationship. Even more, that you weren't just in a marriage out of convenience, but instead because you simply wanted to be.

You parted your mouth to reply, when some children from Angelina's side began causing chaos by running around. "Lord, our kids better behave," you muttered.

George turned to look at you, and it was then that you became aware of what you had said.

"Our kids?" he was grinning.

"Shut up," you mumbled.

"Never - just let me know when you want to start, love," he winked at you.

"A bit too soon, I think."

He shrugged, "We got married within a few hours of knowing each other."

"We were drunk."

"We can get drunk again."

You sighed, "We don't even live together."

"I can move in."

You didn't have anymore rebuttals.

"Are you out of arguments now?" he asked.

You reluctantly nodded.

"Perfect."

***

Instead of apparating directly to your house, you and George decided to take a late night walk around Godric's Hollow. It was such a pretty village, and you had yet to appreciate its beauty in the dark, with all the magical lamps glowing around you. But, you knew that you and George needed to have a conversation, especially after the kids talk from earlier.

"Are we together?" you asked him, even though your interlocked hands should have answered the question.

"We're married, love."

"Yes, but are we together?"

"I'd like to think we are - do you?"

You remained silent for a few moments, before nodding and looking at him in the darkness of the night.

"Then there you have it."

"I just don't get why."

"Why what?"

"Why you've done so much for me when you hardly knew me."

George chuckled, "I admit, I don't know exactly when I made the decision to do anything for you, but when you strutted into my shop, determined as ever, and announced that you were my wife, I just-" he paused, squeezing your hand, "You looked so cute and I knew- in that moment- that I would never meet someone else like you."

You felt like you were melting on the spot.

"It may have seemed selfless that I helped you get the house - but, to be honest, it was the perfect excuse for me to trap you to me- make it easier for me to pursue you, that is."

"I love you, George," you sighed.

"I'm glad, because I've loved you for quite some time now."

"Love at first sight?"

"You would be so lucky."

You let out a childish giggle at that.

"But, yes, I think it was."

——————————————————

masterlist

written; 18/08/2023 —> 03/09/2023 published;04/09/2023 edited; —/—/——

[spookyscarydemonbabe]

Late Showing

Summary- After a work shift you find Gareth all by himself, waiting for someone that never showed. Although you’ve had your differences, you can’t help but want to make him feel better.

Genre- Fluff

Warnings- None c:

Tag List- @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @munsonology @aidansloth @esme-viridian @morganwrites12672 @hawkinsmafia

(my tag list is always open, if you’d like to be added please let me know 💋)

Word Count- 2.8k

You yawned as you adjusted yourself in the uncomfortable velvet lined chair, head rested on your hand, not paying attention to anything that was going on around you. Being the ticket girl at the movies wasn’t a very exciting job, especially during those days of the week where you were basically getting paid to sit around and look pretty. But, it was a job that paid, and that’s all that mattered. It was just surprising for it to be this slow on a Friday.

You still tried your best to be alert, paying attention to every sound just in case it was anyone trying to make you do your job. Your ears perked up at the sounds of a few familiar laughs.

Every Friday after their DnD session, the older boys from Hellfire Club would usually stop by for a late night showing of whatever horror or comedy movie looked the most interesting. They were decently friendly, save for a few normal stupid teenage boy comments and stereotypical ‘boy humor’ that didn’t exactly translate all that well to girls. They were all relatively nice with you, they’ve seen you once or twice a week for the last six months so it was normal to have a conversation with them every now and then. But somehow, every week, one of them made it seem like it was his mission to piss you off.

At least, that’s what you took from your interactions with him.

And seeing him walking up to your booth with his hands on his pockets and a smirk on his face told you he was definitely going to try and get you today. Good thing you were stubborn enough to get him first.

“(y/n).” He said with a smile as he approached the booth with the other boys behind him.

“Gareth.” You smiled to him and looked just past him to smile at his friends, “Boys. You’re here awful early, aren’t you supposed to be jerking each other off in the drama room right about now?” You smirked to him.

The smirk dropped off Gareths face as he heard the boys try to stifle their chuckles at your comment.

“…We finished early.”

He only realized the error of his last words after the boys laughed harder behind him.

“Is that right?” You giggled, “What are you guys seeing today?”

“What’s playing?”

“Well,” You said, “if you look at the marquee that’s right above my head, it’ll tell you what’s playing.”

“Wow, bitchier than normal today are we?” Gareth laughed to himself.

“Only for you, sweetheart.” You said with an eye roll.

“Ignore him (y/n),” Eddie said as he shoved Gareth aside, “we’ll take four for The Fly.”

“Ooh, that’s a good one!” You smiled and tore off four tickets from the roll beside you, “Lots of gross stuff, really good body horror.”

You handed Eddie the tickets as he gave you the $20 bill from his pocket and he tore them each away as he handed them to the guys.

“You’ve seen it?” Gareth asked with a scoff, “How?”

“Maybe because i work here, idiot.”

Gareth wasn’t even given a chance to respond before getting his arm tugged away by Eddie into the theater.

You giggled and rolled your eyes to yourself, sitting back in your seat and waiting for the next customers to come up and purchase their tickets.

Your constant back and forth with one another couldn’t be traced back to one specific incident, they’ve been happening for so long you couldn’t remember who said what first or even how it began, but it eventually became a highlight of your shifts.

You’d be sitting in that booth for hours, nothing to entertain you except the rare occasion when there’s actual work to do or if you managed to bring in a book or magazine with you. As soon as you saw those boys pile out of whoever’s car they drove in and you saw the familiar red vest on Gareth, you couldn’t help but be excited for whatever nonsense he had to spew at you that day.

You didn’t hate each other. You certainly didn’t like one another, but you didn’t hate him. It was all innocent fun.

A week later, you were in the same position.

Bored, stuck at work in that little booth out front just waiting for the boys to show up again for their normal friday night routine.

You checked your watch and noticed it was later than normal for them, usually they were there around 4-5 pm, but as it approached closer and closer to 7 you figured they probably just decided to switch things up for the night. There wasn’t anything that great showing anyways.

Until you saw a familiar car pull into the lot.

You were glad to see them again, and finally be able to have a little bit of interaction with someone after being stuck alone in that little booth. But when you saw just one person step out of the car and approach the booth, you let out a gentle sigh.

Gareth walked up to the booth with a smile on his face, pulling out a $10 bill from his pocket and placing it onto the counter,

“Two for Chopping Mall.”

You took the $10 and glanced behind him before reaching around and pulling two tickets off of the reel,

“Why do you need two if it’s just you?” You asked, sliding him the tickets, “I figured the guys would be with you.”

“I asked them to stay back this time.” He gave you a cocky smile and took the tickets, “I’m meeting someone. A girl.” He shrugged, his eyes quickly scanning you for your reaction.

“Oh. Alright,” You shrugged, giving him a smile, “enjoy the movie then.”

Your reaction threw him off, and you could tell by the way his eyebrows raised ever so slightly, but you didn’t pay any mind to it. Gareth smiled back and wandered into the theater without another word.

The next two hours went as they usually did for you, handing out tickets to the various families and couples for their friday night excursions to the theater, though there was one thought that you couldn’t get out of your head. There were plenty of guys that came alone, but not one girl had walked inside by herself. You could be wrong, she probably just wandered in when you weren’t looking or came in through a different entrance.

Either way, you wouldn’t let yourself dwell on it for much longer.

You didn’t like Gareth, and he didn’t like you. That’s how it’s always been, and how it always will be.

But when it reached 9:15, and you noticed a crowd of people leaving the theater as you got the little booth ready to close up for the night. Tickets were put away, the little ‘sorry, we’re closed’ sign was turned in the window, and all the cash was locked up for the managers to count. As you switched the light off in the booth, you walked into the theater by the connecting door, but there was a little pit in your heart as the door closed behind you.

Gareth was still sitting on one of the benches inside, alone, in near darkness from the lights inside switching off as it got closer and closer to closing time.

You slowly walked over to him, and as you looked closer at his face it made you regret any time the two of you had one of your little spats with one another. He was sitting there looking like a kicked puppy, waiting all this time for a girl that never even showed up. You didn’t like him, you were so certain, but seeing anyone in that predicament was enough to pull at your heartstrings.

“Gareth?” You asked quietly, catching him by surprise as he jumped slightly in his seat.

“Oh, hey. Just, uh…” He cleared his throat and showed you the tickets still in his hand, “waiting. I think she’ll be here soon, we’ll just see the later showing…”

“Gareth,” You sighed, “we’re closing. The movies over…” He pursed his lips and gave you a slow nod, looking back down at the tickets he held in his lap, “I’m sorry-“

“No, it’s ok.” He stood up quickly, shoving the now useless tickets into his pocket as he cut you off, “i’ll just, uh… See you next friday.”

You gave him a small but friendly smile as he stepped past you, and he copied it.

In that moment there was a switch that flipped inside you.

Seeing him so defeated, all alone waiting for someone who probably wasn’t going to show anyways.

“Hey!” You called out to him as you took a few steps closer. He stopped and turned to you. “Did you still want to see that movie?”

Gareth shrugged,

“I guess so. But you said you’re closed?”

“I work here.” You giggled, “Come with me.”

You grasped his hand and led him down the quiet, dimly lit halls into one of the empty theaters. The lights along the sides of the walls were still on, though it was strange to see a theater so quiet and empty.

“Sit wherever you want,” You gently let go of his hand, though it felt strange to not have something filling that space, “I’ll be back in just a minute. Want a snack or something?”

Gareth shrugged again as he looked over the empty rows of seats,

“Popcorn is always nice.” He said to you with a smile. You could already tell he was feeling better.

“Popcorn.” You nodded, “No problem. I’ll be back in a few minutes, sit wherever you want.” You smiled and wandered out of the theater.

Gareth looked around for a moment before spotting a pair of seats right in the middle. He slowly walked up and got comfortable, smiling to himself as he sat there waiting patiently for you.

It was strange.

You’d never been nice to him, at least not this nice. Gareth didn’t know what it was, if it was you doing this out of sympathy or not, but he didn’t mind it. When he looked past all those childish arguments the two of you had, they seemed almost pointless. Behind the mask of insults and one liners, he could see that you were just a nice girl. And he was hoping you’d see the same for him too.

The two of you had never been alone in any sense of the word, the only time you had was during the five minutes of words you’d exchange over him or one of the guys buying tickets. It felt so weird. There were a thousand and one outcomes he could’ve imagined up from the two of you being around each other alone, each one of them ending up with either him having a black eye or you getting fired for ‘unlawful conduct’ with a paying customer. Never like this.

His train of thought was interrupted as the lights along the side walls started to dim, and the screen started to show the beginning static of a film reel. Just as the trailers started playing he heard the theater doors open and soon saw you with a bucket of popcorn in your arms.

“Here,” You said with a smile as you handed him the bucket, “I hope you like extra butter and salt, cause that’s what i put on it.”

“Who doesn’t?” He smiled back.

Your attention was soon grabbed by the lit screen as trailers started rolling for the newest upcoming movies. It was quiet between the two of you as you sat and watched the screen, but it was in no way an uncomfortable silence. Rather, it felt oddly comforting.

It was nice to be sitting there with him, and without even noticing all that anger that you had always felt for him was melting away. As the screen turned back to black, you snuck a glance over at him. It was quick, and you were certain he hadn’t noticed as you turned your head back to the screen.

But he did. And he liked you looking at him.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t try and sneak a few glances at you as the movie went on, and though it was quiet, you could almost feel it every time he did. It was nice.

It was so strange. You had never gotten along in any sense of the word before. Each time you saw him or he saw you, you had to prepare yourself to come back at anything he said, but this was the longest the two of you had gone without making a quip at the other. You liked it.

He was actually quite nice to be around. It felt comforting to have him there, especially during a scary movie.

You glanced over his way one last time before slowly leaning in to whisper,

“I’m sorry that girl never showed.”

Gareth looked to you with a thankful smile,

“Thanks.” As you looked back to the screen he leaned in closer to you, “I’m sorry for always being a dick to you.”

You quickly looked back to him. His apology caught you off guard. It wasn’t unwanted by any means, you deserved an apology for the things he’s said to you. But you knew he deserved one too, you weren’t going to deny he’d gotten the same remarks from you.

“I’m sorry for always being a bitch to you.”

You both apologetically smiled to one another.

Your arguments were what made your ‘relationship’ worthwhile, it was nice to have someone to lash out on after a difficult time dealing with customers that made it seem like it was their destiny to be a pain in your ass. But it felt even nicer to know how sorry he was for everything. It felt like being nice to each other was going to be a lot easier than being each others punching bags.

“No hard feelings?” Gareth whispered to you as he offered over the bucket of popcorn.

You couldn’t help but stifle back a quick laugh as you grabbed a few pieces of popcorn,

“No hard feelings.”

You smiled at each other once more, your face turning back to face the screen as you ate the few pieces of popcorn he had offered. But you could still sense his eyes on you.

Gareth took a slow, quiet breath, as if he was nervous about something. He leaned towards your ear to whisper once more,

“This is nice.”

As you turned to him, a blush arose onto your cheeks and a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. He was still so close, your noses nearly brushing as you turned your head. Your eyes glanced over his face as the light from the screen illuminated his face ever so slightly in the darkness of the theater. And you had to admit, this lighting made him look a way you had never imagined yourself seeing him in.

He just looked so good.

If you had to be watching a scary movie with anyone, you were glad it was him.

You nodded gently, the smile on your lips getting harder to hide as you could just barely see the pink on his cheeks too.

You both quickly turned away once more, each of you hiding your red faces and wide smiles from the other.

It wasn’t a date, but it was sure starting to feel like one.

A few moments passed by, the tension between the two of you could be cut with a knife, and as you sensed Gareth start to move next to you it definitely caught your attention. Though he wasn’t fidgeting in his seat as you assumed.

His arms gently raised up over his head, and you tried so hard to stifle your giggles the moment you heard an overacted yawn coming from him. And just as you suspected, as his arms came back down, one found its way laid across your shoulders.

You looked to him and quietly giggled as he looked to his lap with an embarrassed, but comfortable, laugh.

“That was so lame.” You said as you raised your hand to your lips to quiet your giggles.

Gareth looked to you with that smile still on his face, his hand gently moving over your shoulder,

“But it worked, didn’t it?”

Your giggles slowly ceased and your lips pursed,

“Shut up.” You said with a smile and an eye roll as you looked back to the screen, your head moving to rest on his shoulder as he pulled you in closer.

Whatever this was between the two of you, it wasn’t a date. But you were hoping he would ask you on one soon.

[munsonsprincess11111]

Panic attacks.

Eddie munson x reader

Summary: Eddie's having a bad day in school. He's doing everything not to have a panic attack. He doesn't even know what's wrong with him. He's sat at lunch leg bouncing. Hands sweaty. He needs help but the man will never admit it.

Eddie's sat at lunch n he's a hot mess. Shaking. Heavy breathing. He feels like the rooms spinning. Like everything ten times louder. Feels like he could throw up. He needs help. He doesn't even know what's wrong. Will he ask for help? Nope.

"Dude are you sure your OK?" Gareth askes concerned.

Eddie just mumbles and keeps his face in his hands.

You come walking over. Smiling ans joyful.

"OH no the devil in disguise." Jeff jokes as you approach the table.

"Hilarious honestly you should ditch hellfire and join the comedy club your that funny." You joke back. You look down at Eddie and your face goes from happy to concerned. "You OK hunny?" You ask noticing his state.

He nods but other then that ignoring your even stood there. Normally Eddie's hands would be all over you by now talking non stop. You know somethings wrong.

"You sure?" You ask raking your fingers through his mess of curls. As your nails make contact with his head he flinches. You pick up Eddie's tun lunch box and hold your other hand out. "Common." You say to Eddie.

He finally looks up at you confused. "Let's go Common." You walk off. Eddie looks at the rest of hellfire and then gets up and walks off with you. Once you exit the cafeteria his head drops to your shoulder as you walk along taking his hand in your free one.

You both say nothing. Just walk down the halls in silence. Enjoying eachothers presence. However Eddie is still on the verge of his break down. "Where did you park?" You ask quietly "normal spot." HE mumbles back. You nod and walk to where Eddie parks.

He unlocks the side door opening it for you then climbing in after him. You pull the sofa in the back and turn it into the bed. You kay down opening your arms for Eddie. Eddie comes over and lays down next to you. Putting his head on your chest arms around your waist and hooking one leg over your legs.

You wrap your arms around him holding him close to you. Eddie closes his eyes and his breathing starts to slow down. His leg still bouncing slightly. But he's finally calming down.

"What's going on hun?" You ask quietly. You sit still holding the boy. He let's out a shakey breath. He hides his face in the crook of your neck finally speaking.

"Everything is becoming stressful again. I wanna skip lessons but I don't wanna fail. I'm not sleeping until late cause I'm uncomfortable in my own skin. And when I wake up I wake up late so I forget my meds which really isn't helping. By the time I remember I'm in first period. I go home take them and bam another night not sleeping. But if I Dont take em all together then I feel worse. I just need a break. And I feel like I've barely seen you and I really just need you and only you right now. The only time I see you out of school is with someone else present where its a group hang out. And I feel really fucking selfish but I just need something."

He broke. His eyes welled with tears. His breathing uneven. And a shaking mess. You run your hand comfortingly through his hair.

"Babe. You should've told me. We can hang out anytime just us you say the word I'm all yours OK? Don't feel selfish for needing something. How about I come stay at the trailer tonight? We van watch some movies and start fixing your sleep schedule for starters. I'll stroke your head until your asleep. N ill make sure we wake up on time and you take your meds." You whisper stroking his back.

He let's out a relaxed breath. "I don't deserve you. Your fucking perfect thank you love you so much. N yeh I sleep way better when your at mine no Idea why guess its just comfort." HE removes his head from your neck looming at you

"I love you to n ill always be here for you. I'll stay tonight so u get up for school n ill stay the weekend even Sunday night? That OK?" You ask. Eddie nods putting his head on your chest. 10 minutes later you both walk back into school hand in hand. You take Eddie to class and he promises to meet you at your class after school and you part ways.

-next morning-

6:53am. The clock read when Eddie woke up. He looked at laying on your side. Arm still drapped over Eddie. He squeezes you tighter kissing your head. "Babe, gotta wake up sleepy." HE says laying sweet kisses on your face.

You stir awake amiling at Eddie. He kisses your lips and you scrunch your face. You knew full when you had morning breath but Eddie didn't care. "Howd you sleep?" You ask running your hand up his side.

"SO fucking good. Best night sleep in about a month I won't even lie to you." HE says kissing your neck.

"You fell asleep so early 9 o'clock u went." You smiled at Eddie.

"Mmm was the head and back scratches." HE lays next to you hugging you.

You smile at him happy you could help him. Laying your head on his chest. You stayed in that position for another 5 minutes before getting up and dressed for school.

Your making toast for you and Eddie as he walks out slipping his top on giving you a brief glimpse of his happy trail which your eyes went to immediately.

"After school." HE winks kissing you.

"Meds hot shot." You says as the toast pops and you butter it. He opens the cabinet getting out his anxiety and adhd meds popping one of each in his hands.

"DO I need the adhd one I'm so fun without it." Eddie askes smirking popping both pills in his mouth drinking some milk from the cartoon.

"Mmm your fun on it to even better actually." You say passing him his toast.

"Mmm ok" he eats his toast and then you both brush your teeth. He stands behind you keeping one hand on your waist as you brush your teeth. And then off to school and you arrive with 10 minutes to spare.

You both approach the hellfire members and they look shocked to see Eddie. "Morning ladies." Eddie greets himself to the boys. Lighting a cigarette in the process pulling you close to his side inhaling and exhaling the smoke. "Cold isn't it."

"Dude your early to school jeez." Gareth says hugging his girlfriend trying to keep warm.

Eddie looks at you and smiles. "Thanks to y/n made me sleep n get up never knew actually needed to do that." HE said finishing his smoke tossing it on the ground.

Everyone parts ways ad the bell goes but you and Eddie. He walks you to the you both had kissing you. "Do we have to go in." HE smiles into your lips.

"Yep common." You kiss him one more time. "I love you."

"I love you too." ONE last kiss and a sutle ass swat and Eddie and you walk into class and arrives on time to the teachers and everyone else's response.

Yeah his anxiety gets the best of him sometimes. But he knows he will be OK as long as he's got you.

You and Eddie sit in the back wanting to be out rhe way. And Gareth walks in sitting in the middle row. "OH my god he came in on time shock to everyone thought the freak couldn't tell the time the amount of school he's missed." Jason comments seeing Eddie his friends laughing. Eddie gets a devilish grin on face.

"OH my god Jason carver came in 30 seconds thought he'd be able to count the amount of school he's attending or can't you cause your heads to full of me. If that's the case I'm honoured Jason but I have a girlfriend maybe one of your boy toys there will get u there in 23 seconds." Eddie smirks putting his arm around your shoulder. You can't help the smirk that creeps on your face.

Jason looks stunned at Eddie that he actually just said that infront of the class. Gareth still staring at the front then chimes in for Jason.

"He's backkkkkkkkkkkk."

[baddestbittyontheblock]

wanda maximoff fic recs (2)

𖣁 hi everyone!! here is my second rec for wanda, i hope you all enjoy!! 𖣁

ཐིཋྀ remember to like and reblog the works you enjoy in order to support each incredible writer!! ཐིཋྀ

𖣁 however, make sure you read the information on each story themselves such as triggers & warnings 𖣁

ཐིཋྀ if you’d like me to remove your fic from this list, message me! ཐིཋྀ

ਏਓ beginners episode by @wandasfifthwife hockey coach/player!wanda x ex figure skater!reader | HEAVY TOPICS, injury (r = leg and brain), r’s mother is verbally/physically abusive, r’s mom sees herself in r, body-image issues, heavier angst w/ happy ending, hurt/comfort, established relationship (w&r), break ups (not w&r), past relationships, player!wanda for a minute, injury (w = broken nose), 2.1k

-your mother had made a suggestion during dinner for you to get out more, have a sport or a club activity to join so you weren’t inside so much.

ਏਓ she tells me keep fucking cause she loves this shit by ^ hockey player!wanda x afab!fem!reader | SMUT MDNI, established relationship, angry-makeup-im going to miss you-sex, argument, angst w/ happy ending, hurt/comfort, top!wanda, bottom!reader, strap (r receiving), oral (r receiving), impact play (spanking), marking (neck), r is called little thing (by wanda), overstim if you squint, cum kink?

-wanda has an away game, meaning she has to leave you in the morning. your emotions to rise, hurt turning into anger and causing you to snap at her, resulting in an argument—but you can’t stay mad at her. before you can realize you’ve ended up under her, pleas for her to fuck you good before she leaves.

ਏਓ nightmares by ^ hockey player!wanda x afab!fem!reader | HEAVY TOPICS, mentions that r’s mother was physically&mentally abusive, nightmare has a SLIGHT description, angst w/ happy ending, hurt/comfort, argument (w&r), nightmare, love confessions, r thinks they’re going to breakup, fluffy ending

-your lack of sleep comes to play when you snap at wanda and end up sleeping on her couch. wanda comes face-to-face with the issue when you come into her room late at night, crying from a nightmare

ਏਓ say, “don’t go” by @scarletssienna wanda maximoff x reader | hurt, comfort, angst, mommy wanda, sub!reader, grinding, car sex, fingering, hair-pulling, oral, biting, fighting, scars, AU, 6k

-it’s been three years since you and wanda saw each other last - three long years. you were as good as dead to her. figuratively, and unfortunately, literally.

ਏਓ unspoken truths by @spaghettiposts wanda maximoff x reader | pregnancy, dickhead vision, friends to lovers, attempts at comedy, reader being a sweetheart like always, mutual pinning, faint talks of abortion, talks of nausea and vomiting, 4k

-you and wanda have been friends for years, but never once has she showed up at your doorstep in this state. pregnant, alone, and hurt. you take her in and you both dive into the difficulties of pregnancy, and hiding feelings.

ਏਓ to seek forgiveness by @esouliie wanda maximoff x fem!reader | strap (r!receiving), breath play?, wanda is rough & reader is crying lol, aftercare! (18+)

-recklessness requires a certain type of punishment, but you can only take so much

ਏਓ hers by @themidnightcrimson top!wanda x reader | 18+ only. minors: do not interact, jealousy, possession, voyeurism, fingering

-in which natasha has a hard time staying away from what isn't hers, so wanda decides to teach her a lesson.

ਏਓ the scarlet siren by ^ wanda maximoff x fem!reader | siren!wanda, dubcon/noncon, fingering (r receiving), oral (r receiving), size kink, biting, a lot of blood, violence, fear, suspense, drowning, deep water, mentions of death, i wrote this in an irish accent for some reason, did you know i have thalassophobia?, 6.0k, 18+ only. minors: do not interact

-in which you take a trip out to sea that you will regret.

ਏਓ their mistake by @scarlet-daisy dark!wanda x reader | mentions of torture and being kidnapped, hydra agents & wanda killing them

-“you made a really big mistake…”

ਏਓ lost in the universe (pt:1) by @mionemymind wanda maximoff x reader | fluff, cursing, slight angst?

-y/n is transported to a different universe and by chance, meets the wanda that inhabits it.

ਏਓ lost in the universe (pt:2) by ^. wanda maximoff x reader | fluff, kissing, cursing, jealousy, 1.3k

-the aftermath of y/n being rescued from the alternate universe.

ਏਓ you’re the only thing keeping me center by @themultiimagines wanda maximoff x fem!reader | smut (18+ MDNI), jealousy (healthy ofc), thigh riding, cursing, 2.7k

-you’ve never had a bond with anyone quite as strong as the one you have with wanda.

ਏਓ turn a blind eye by @wndaswife  wanda maximoff & fem!reader | MDNI: smut, a bit angsty in the beginning, some fluff at the end, tiny mood switch because wv wanda is scary but also just the cutest, manipulation, implications of magic usage (this is up to your interpretation), fingering, cunnilingus, mommy kink, dom!wanda maximoff

-something strange is happening in westview, and your wife is adamant about soothing your frustrations.

ਏਓ a glimpse of you by @marvelfilth wanda maximoff x f!reader | dubcon, noncon, somnophilia, oral, fingering, pet names, (18+)

-she looks down at her chest where your head rests, your back pressed neatly against her front, and smiles when she sees you fast asleep. and then she gasps, because the image twists abruptly, and now you're no longer asleep, but panting, your cheeks red, your forehead glistening with sweat. wanda's hand moves between your legs, the wet noises her fingers make as they plunge deep inside you make her shudder.

✦ dividers by @cafekitsune, @dollywons ✦

[kenny-the-ken]

A Birthday to Remember

Aged up characters!! All in college!! Contains strong language, sexual content, drugs, alcohol and a lot of partying!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY KENNY!! YOU ARE MY COMFORT CHARACTER AND I LOVE YOU!!

Ps my request are open guys so send me my way!

"Same shit different day as far as I'm concerned, dudes." Kenny sighed, his birthday was something he never did much for.

"But dude, it's your eighteenth! You're only this young once! We gotta go celebrate!" Kyle explained, patting his friend on the back.

Birthdays were a weird subject for Kenny. To him it was just another day, he never got gifts or cards or showered with affection, his family would've gave him a verbal happy birthday and that was about it. The only people who always gave him something were Karen, his friends and y/n. I mean, he was reborn every time he died, so was it even really his birthday anymore?

He just didn't get the hype, if it was someone else's birthday, that was completely different, but Kenny had hardly celebrated any of his birthdays, so why start now?

However, if birthday wishes were real, which he highly doubted, then maybe he'd finally be able to call you his girlfriend. For two years you guys had been friends with benefits on and off, and it meant everything to Kenny. He loves holding your body close to his, smelling your scent on his pillow after you'd left, he loved it, he loved you, but he was terrified you would reject him and you would no longer want to be around him, he didn't want to weird you out and push you away from whatever the fuck this relationship was, so he was happy enough to be your fuck buddy, if it meant he could at least pretend you were both together.

You stood in your room, putting the finishing touches on Kenny's gift, you had made him a scrap book, full of photos of you both, screen shots of your group chats with inside jokes and funny statements in it, bus tickets from when you guys took a trip further afield, the ticket stumps from the cinema when you both went to see that shitty horror movie together that was more of a comedy than anything and finally a flower, the very same one Kenny picked for you when you were young, you had pressed and preserved it perfectly. You sprayed the last page with your perfume and placed a kiss beside it, along with a picture of you both hugging one another and a proposition for him written in your cursive writing. You planned to give it to him at the end of the night.

You finished to get ready, your makeup and hair ready as your hands smoothed over your outfit. You knew Kenny's eyes would pop from his brain when he seen you. You wore a lace, black corset top and a checked pleaded skirt that stopped just below your ass, fishnet tights on your legs and a pair of black high heel boots.

Kyle: We're all headed to the club now, meet you guys outside

Y/N: I'm just about to leave mine, see y'all soon!

You put your phone into your leather jacket pocket, touched up your red lipstick and took two shots of vodka before putting the scrapbook into your large handbag, and leaving the house.

The walk to the club was pretty short, and as you approached you heard all your friends laughing and shouting outside. You smiled to yourself, before seeing Kenny. He didn't have his orange parka on, he wore a flannel shirt and a band tee with blue ripped skinny jeans. You swore your breath caught in your throat as you made your way over to the group.

Kenny's eyes widened upon seeing you, between the cleavage you were showing and how short your skirt was, he didn't know where to look.

"Damn, girl! You look fucking hot!" He exclaimed, his hands then clutching his mouth as he realised what he had just said out loud in front of everyone.

"Thank, Kenny." You said, a small smile on your face your cheeks hot due to how much you were blushing.

"Come on! Let's get in there and get our party on!" Stan shouted, your large group of friends whooping and cheering in response as you all made your way inside.

The nightclub was huge, dark black walls with lights and lasers flashing everywhere, and a mixture of cringey 2000s throwbacks and dance music drummed through your ears.

You went straight to the bar to get drinks, feeling an arm snake around your waist from behind you. You knew it was Kenny, you knew his touch from anywhere.

"You gonna let me see what's under those clothes later, hmm?" He whispered into your ear, a smirk planted firmly on his face as you turned to look at him.

"If you play you cards right then maybe I will. Since it's you're birthday." You teased back, ordering both of you a large vodka and red bull each.

"Happy birthday, welcome to the eighteen club." You purred as Kenny placed a kiss on your cheek.

"In return for buying me a drink, I've got a fat ass blunt rolled, would you care to join me in a smoke?" He said, bowing, taking your hand in his and kissing the back of it.

"Well, since you asked so nicely." You replied, a smile on your face as you both made your way to the smoking area, your friends were already on their way to being tipsy, and you guys had some serious catching up to do.

You both giggled, sipping at your drinks and passing the blunt between you both, Kenny's arm wrapped tightly around your waist, keeping you close to his side. He didn't trust other guys, especially in nightclubs, and with you looking like a full three course meal, he was going to make sure you were protected from any creeps that may be out there.

"I can't wait to give you your present later." You blurted out, the excitement of seeing his face getting too much for you.

Before he could inquire further you both heard your names being called.

"Y/N! KENNY! OUR SONG IS ON!" It was Stan and Kyle, jumping up and down, waving their hands in the air.

"LETS GO DANCE!" They shouted in unison, you both laughing at your friends.

You took Kenny's hand in yours, leading him to the dance floor inside. The place was buzzing, people taking drugs, those so drunk they were skipping the queue for the bathroom so they didn't throw their guts up on the dance floor, or on someone else!

Kenny swore you looked angelic, as your hips began moving, his own joining in, your bodies close to one another. He swore if this kept up he'd be skipping the queue for the bathroom too, but not to puke, to finish himself off before the torment of watching you dance and grind up against him became too much.

"You're such a fucking tease, Princess. And you know how I feel about teasing." Kenny growled lowly in your ear, his voice making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end, god if you could take him right now you would, but not before giving him his gift.

Mr Brightside was playing as you all sang along, Kyle shouting for you all at the bar.

"To friends, relationships and having awesome lives together!" He shouted as you all agreed.

"CHEERS!" You all shouted, downing the shot of Sambuca he had bought for you all.

You all quickly made your way back to the dance floor, you all danced together, laughing and giggling all the while.

"Hey, when am I getting my present?" Kenny cooed in your ear, a smirk on his face.

"As soon as we get home." You replied nonchalantly, shooting him a wink. You had just confirmed that you were in fact bringing him back to your dorm room with you, and that could only mean one thing.

"I'm excited." He teased, both his hands on your hips as you both danced together.

"Hey guys, wanna do some drugs?" Eric asked, you both rolling your eyes.

"And where did you get drugs, fat boy?" Kyle snickered, Stan laughing at his comment.

"I got ecstasy off that guy over there." He said pointing to a guy who was in the middle of a drug deal, all of your faces dropping.

"Fuck it, I'm game." Kenny replied as Eric handed him a pink and purple pill.

"Happy fuckin' birthday to me!" Kenny exclaimed before popping the pill in his mouth and gulping down the rest of his drink, and the rest of you followed.

About an hour after you had all ingested your first ecstasy pill and all of you were beyond fucked up. Drinking straight vodka like it was water, shots were far too easy and you guys had smoked two full packets of cigarettes, even Kyle who didn't smoke was smoking like he was an everyday user. Kenny's weed didn't last long either, all of you passing blunts around like it was nothing.

"Dude, have I ever told you how much I fucking love you?" Stan said to Kyle, both of them proclaiming how much they all loved each other and you thought that maybe this was the time for Kenny's gift.

You opened your bag, your vision feeling blurry like everything was going too quickly. And you pulled out the orange and blue scrapbook you had made just for him.

It said on the front of it, 'Y/n and Kenny's crazy adventures' and you smiled as you tapped Kenny on the shoulder.

He broke his conversation with Eric and looked at you, his eyes widening as he seen you holding out a book to him.

"Is this my gift?" He asked, a smile on his face. Kyle and Stan moved closer to see what it was as Eric did the same.

He began flipping through the pages, his smile never faltering once. Pictures of you both when you were kids, dressed up as super heroes, princesses, you name it, it was in there. Pictures of all of you together, all of you smiling in silence as he neared the last page,by our heartbeat increasing.

He landed on the last page, a picture of you both cuddled in bed together after the first time you had both hooked up together, and you'd lost your virginity to him, along with all the other little momentos you had kept. His eyes scanned the words that adorned the page, his cheeks turning bright red.

"Is that even a question? Of course I'll go out with you! I've been wanting to ask you forever, I just thought you didn't like me like that!" Kenny rambled, pulling you into a tight hug, you flush against his chest as you leaned up to place a chaste kiss on his lips.

"I never told you but... in that photo there." You said, pointing to the one of you both in bed.

"You took my virginity." You said, your own cheeks bright red now, as his eyes widened at you, your friends already gone back to talking about a lot of random shit.

"Seriously? I was your first?" He asked, his ego being boosted by the second.

"You were my first, you're my everything, Ken. I love you. I always have, I just knew you didn't like labels and I didn't want you to put a stop to us hooking up because my feelings got the better of me." You said, being completely honest with him, you were never as glad to get it off your chest as you were now.

"I was scared to admit to you for the same reasons." He said lowly, a smile fixed firmly on his face.

"Come here, gimme a kiss." He said, his arms wrapping round your waist once more, both of your lips meeting in a flurry of passion.

This really was the best birthday that Kenny had ever had, and he would cherish it forever, just like he vowed from that moment on to cherish you forever too, and never ever let you go. Not in life or in death.

[thebibliosphere]

This really is a long shot but if you see this ask I hope you and etd are well and that perhaps you have a recommendation for what to see in and around Edinburgh? I’m here for a week with my partner, my best friend and her fiancé and we’d love to see places aside from those every tourist runs to😅

I’m afraid you’re asking the wrong Scot because I was only ever a tourist in Edinburgh 😅

Places I enjoy going in Edinburgh:

The castle

The Real Mary King’s Close

Camera Obscura & World of Illusions (not all that great if you’re prone to migraines or seizures, but it can kill a fun hour or so if you get caught in the rain.)

You can do ghost tours of the underground vaults. I think some also do them around the cemeteries at nights if you’re into that sort of thing.

Honestly the red bus tours are a great way if getting around some fun sites and also avoiding the rain.

If you like Indian fusion food, The Prahna Indian Grill is pretty good.

The Edinburgh Museum on the Royal Mile was always a good shout from what I remember. So was the Writer’s Museum.

The Stand comedy club is always worth checking out if you can. I watched many an improv act in there while eating nachos and drinking cider.

Favorite place hands down is the Botanical Gardens. I love me some botanic gardens.

I’m no doubt missing something spectacular, but those were always my favorite things to do in the city. That and just wandering around.

[alpydk]

The Blind Date

First time writing anything remotely smutty. Very short. Based on the following post by @flymmsy - 611 words

Ao3 Link

Summary: An evening in the Elfsong tavern is always a night to remember. From the comedy club to the music of the bards that travel through the city, there’s something for everyone. You received the note last night, an agreement to a meeting with a blind date. You’d never tried one before but this one caught your eye. Wine lover seeks company for one evening. Must be open to magical experiences.

An evening in the Elfsong tavern is always a night to remember. From the comedy club to the music of the bards that travel through the city, there’s something for everyone. You received the note last night, an agreement to a meeting with a blind date. You’d never tried one before but this one caught your eye.

Wine lover seeks company for one evening. Must be open to magical experiences. 

Nothing more than that was said and no more information was given other than the time, meeting place, and the instructions that you must wear a purple flower in your hair. You sit in the corner booth and look around hoping to see the person who has arranged this meeting and yet nobody shows up. You consider leaving but the wine in front of you remains untouched. It would be a waste and so you stay and drink, feeling the warmth of the alcohol blush your cheeks.

Or at least you hope it is the wine, because with that warmth comes another sensation, a tickling up your inner thigh like that of a cool hand exploring. You wipe your hand over it, feeling nothing, and yet the sensation continues moving upwards further and further until it stops suddenly. You look around hoping that no one can see you as you shuffle awkwardly in your seat as you try to reposition yourself, the tickle now becoming more centralised, more focused on where it wants to dance.

You try to ignore the feeling, wondering if you should stand up and leave, but you know if you do so you’ll either draw attention to yourself with the moan you so desperately want to let out, or you’ll end the moment abruptly being left on a precipice. You stay seated trying to distract yourself. The wine, a shade of red. The patrons, talking loudly. The man in the corner with the deepest of brown eyes.

You feel your cheeks blush and the pressure building between your legs. Keep your hands on the table, don’t bring attention to yourself. Bite your lip and swallow the gasps as they rise. The feeling is electrifying, first slow but now getting quicker. A sensation of rubbing and circling. It takes all your might not to just give in to it, to forget yourself and lose yourself to the pleasure, right here and right now.

The noise of the tavern builds up. More people coming and going. Laughing, talking, singing. And then there is you, a low moan being muffled into your chest, a secret being hidden from all and yet you wish you could shout it out loud. You shift slightly and the feeling becomes more intense. You’re thankful for the cacophony of the tavern's inhabitants as they drown out your uncontrollable groans. The wine, focus on the wine. 

You lift your eyes and see him watching you. His brown eyes focused on you, a devilish grin upon his lips, a twitch of his wrist and all you want at that moment is for him to witness your enjoyment, for him to know the effect he is having on you. And so you free that moan, you let the dam break and release the tension. A long uncontrollable mewl folding you over the table and you're thankful for the sounds around you drowning out your rapture. Yet you know he saw, you know he is satisfied.

You take a moment to compose yourself before looking up to your audience of one only to find that he has left. You feel a laugh rise in your chest finally understanding the words of the note you received. Truly a magical experience.

[scotianostra]

Anthony Robert McMillan was born on March 30th, 1950 in Rutherglen, we knew him better as Robbie Coltrane.

Robbie was educated at Glenalmond College, an independent school in Perthshire, from which he was nearly expelled after hanging the prefects' gowns from the school clocktower. Though he later described his experiences there as deeply unhappy, he played for the rugby First XV, was head of the school's debating society and won prizes for his art.

From Glenalmond, Coltrane went on to Glasgow School of Art, where he was ridiculed for "having an accent like Prince Charles" (of which he quickly disposed, though not before gaining the nickname "Lord Fauntleroy"), and thereafter the Moray House College of Education (part of the University of Edinburgh) in Edinburgh.

In the early 70's Robbie took the name Coltrane, due to his love of jazz musician John Coltrane, and began a career of a stand-up comedian at night clubs, at the Edinburgh Festival, as well as an actor with Edinburgh's renowned Traverse Theatre.

After picking up a few bit parts in films and TV series I first remember Robbie appearing in the BBC Scotland comedy sketch series A kick up the Eighties, he went on from there to appear in The Comic Strip Presents films during the 80's The Supergrass and The Pope must die being the most successful. At that time Coltrane had a drinking problem, downing as much as a bottle of whisky a day. In 1986 he flew to a clinic in Mexico and was treated for obesity. In 1987 his partner for 15 years, Robin Paine, left him for good. A year later he met Rhona Gemmell in a pub. They married and had a son, Spencer, and a daughter, Alice. His career took off during the early 1990s with the leading role as Dr. Eddie "Fitz" Fitzgerald, a forensic psychologist, in the popular TV series Cracker.

Coltrane is one of only a few to have played "baddies" in 2 Bond films, playing Russian mafia man Valentin Dmitrovich Zukovsky in GoldenEye and The World Is Not Enough. He went on to play Rubeus Hagrid in seven Harry Potter films.

Robbie has also featured in factual TV series, Coltrane's Planes and Automobiles, as well as a host of other TV series, none of which, surprisingly are Taggart! He was voted No. 11 in ITV's TV's 50 Greatest Stars and sixth in a poll of 2000 adults across the UK to find the 'most famous Scot', behind the Loch Ness Monster, Robert Burns, Sean Connery, Robert the Bruce and William Wallace.

Robbie passed away on October 14th 2022, he had become a virtual recluse, living a a rented converted barn near Stirling, living off takeaways from a local Chinese. Coltrane was cremated and his family spread his ashes around several of his favourite places around Manhattan, New York.

His death certificate shows that the actor died from a string of conditions including multiple organ failure, the causes of death given were sepsis, where an infection triggers an extreme reaction throughout the body, lower respiratory tract infection and heart block.

I always loved Robbie, from his early days right through his career, it's sad when the people you grew up laughing at and enjoyed in folms and TV pass away.............Rest in Peace big man.

[five-miles-over]

Yandere!Arthur Fleck Headcanons

TW: Stalking, intrusion/breaking in, obsessive/controlling behavior, possible violence

A/N: Thank you to the anon who requested this. I hope you like it!

Arthur Fleck is definitely a jealous, obsessive type of yandere.

Due to his job(s), Arthur wouldn't be able to keep a constant eye on each and every move of yours.

Still he would find a way to let you know that he was always watching you.

After following you to your workplace/school once, he would make a habit of leaving you small notes there. The notes would be things such as "I'm watching you <3" or "You our so pretty" or "Can't wate to marry you :) "

How did it all begin, you ask? Well, it all started when you showed up at his doorstep on a plain Thursday night. An envelope - perhaps a bill - addressed to one "Arthur Fleck" was delivered to you by accident. So, you took it to the address listed on the bill, and found yourself face-to-face with the tall, green-eyed, thin man.

You gently told him what had happened, handed him the bill, and politely bid him goodnight.

Taken aback by your willingness to do the right thing, Arthur became intrigued with you. After you left, he wanted nothing more than to see you again.

The next day, you met Arthur by accident at Pogo's, a comedy club within Gotham. Drinking a bottle of inexpensive liquor or beer, you sat at a table alone...when all of a sudden, you saw Arthur take the stage.

His jokes were...fair. You liked some of the things he said about his schooling. So out of support, you laughed along with him with the best grin that you could muster.

You thought it was just harmless encouragement. But to Arthur, that was the confirmation to solidify what he already believed: you were made for him, that you were an angel sent from heaven to bring him joy in this dreary life of his. And that he could never let you be hurt by anyone, including himself.

Much of what Arthur did was...rather tame. In addition to leaving you notes, he would surprise you while you were on the way back from work/school. He'd give you a spontaneous song-and-dance routine, something inspired from an old film or one of his jobs as Carnival.

When he had a little extra money, he would leave a cheap, small box of chocolates or candies at your workplace. Along with a crude drawing of you and him as stick figures, holding hands surrounded by hearts.

It was easier not to take it personally, even though something in your gut felt very, very wrong about Arthur. He needed help, he needed a professional intervention from a therapist far better than the shoddy ones in the city. Still, a part of you thought that maybe he was just having a little crush, and that it would pass.

But everything changed one Saturday night. It was after the famous talk show host Murray Franklin was assassinated on live television by a comedian known as the "Joker" wearing a colorful costume and clown makeup.

Coincidentally, Arthur was mysteriously gone from you life. He was nowhere near you, much to your surprise. Relieved a little, you relaxed in your apartment with your favorite comfort food and a feel-good television show.

Just then, there was a knock. A familiar voice, calling your name.

Annoyed, you opened the door with a huff. "Arthur, how the hell did you- " At your door stood the same man who killed Murray Franklin, clown makeup dripping in all of its maniacal glory.

"There's no one to stop me now, doll," the Joker sweetly spoke, entering your apartment with a confident stride. "We can finally be together."

You trembled, trying to think of an escape route, any way to get out of this situation. "Arthur, please..."

The Joker slammed your door shut, and turned the lock. "I'm not him anymore, doll. I'm your world now. And don't even bother calling the police..." He pulled out a gun from his pocket and fired two shots at the door, causing you to scream.

"Now, now..." the Joker knelt, stroking your cheek with his thumb. "I'm not going to hurt you. You're mine, remember?"

[eddie-redmayne-italian-blog]

New Article Interview!!

Tonys Roundtable: Rachel McAdams, Kelli O’Hara, Leslie Odom Jr., Sarah Paulson, Daniel Radcliffe and Eddie Redmayne on Broadway Paths, Parts and Pet Peeves

The talented sextet — nominated for 'Mary Jane,' 'Days of Wine and Roses,' 'Purlie Victorious,' 'Appropriate,' 'Merrily We Roll Along' and 'Cabaret,' respectively — sat down with THR ahead of the 77th Tony Awards.

BY SCOTT FEINBERG

Ph. JESSE ILAN KORNBLUTH

Eddie, you grew up in England but made it to New York when you were still very young… EDDIE REDMAYNE I was a kid of the ’80s in London, which meant the mega-musicals were a massive deal — the [Andrew] Lloyd Webbers and the [Alain] Boubil and [Claude-Michel] Schonbergs. The first theater I saw — I was aged about 7 — was Cats, and I remember the sets, these gigantic tomato ketchup things, and then it would turn in the round, and then suddenly cats appeared at my feet and scared the living daylights out of me. And I was completely seduced. PAULSON That’ll do it. REDMAYNE Exactly, some ’80s leotards and some cracking songs — talking of which, Cats: The Jellicle Ball is about to start here! PAULSON Sign me up — to watch it! [Laughs.] REDMAYNE But I remember, I instinctively just loved it so much. My parents, for my birthday, would take me to see one of these shows, and — this is slightly embarrassing to admit — I remember I would weep at the interval because I knew I only had half of it left. As far as New York was concerned? We were brought up on American culture, so seeing this city, it was the zenith of aspiration. When I came in my early teens or whatever, I remember coming to Broadway, and to this day, as we walk on the way to work from the subway, you walk past Times Square, and it just has this thing, doesn’t it? It’s electric, and it’s vibrant, and it never loses that “Come on in!” Its pulse is pulling you in. And so yeah, it was always something that I aspired to.

Eddie, in Cabaret you play The Emcee at the Kit Kat Club in Berlin as the Nazis come to power. The show has been around since 1966, and the film version came out in 1972, but your version is, from what I’ve gathered, very deliberately different than prior incarnations with Joel Grey, Alan Cumming and others. And you have your own long history with it… REDMAYNE I played The Emcee when I was about 15 years old at school — which feels a bit inappropriate now, I think. I didn’t know Cabaret when I first did it, so I watched the film and listened to all the recordings and was just stunned by it. It seduced me. It moved me. It made me laugh, and it made me think, “That’s what I dream of when I go to the theater.” And even though I didn’t necessarily understand all those things when I was a kid, it really stuck with me. Then, I did it again at the Edinburgh Festival when I was about 19 in a production in this grimy venue; we were out flyering every day trying to persuade people to come to the festival dressed in latex and PVC, and then at night we would do the show at 8:00 in the evening, and it would finish at 11:00, and then we’d have half an hour and do another show. And then the people who created that venue at the Edinburgh Festival — they’re called The Underbelly, and it became their business, these site-specific comedy shows — became really successful in London. About nine years ago, they asked me, “Would you ever consider doing this again?” And since then I’d seen every production of Cabaret that I could touch. I saw the Sam Mendes production in Barcelona, in Spanish; I’d seen Alan do it with Emma Stone so stunningly here; I’ve seen the Rufus Norris production; and I just love it. So, when they approached me about doing it, I thought, “I would love to, but only if we’re going to do something that hasn’t been seen or a new take on it.” And I’d just seen this production of Summer and Smoke in London, directed by Rebecca Frecknall, that had blown my mind — it was so poised, and it was stunningly designed by a guy called Tom Scott — so I went and spoke to Frecks and she said, “I’d love to do it.” But at this point, we didn’t have the rights. It’s impossible to get the rights to Cabaret — everyone dreams of doing it! So it became one of those pipe dreams that was never going to happen. But, even at that stage, we wanted to do it site-specific, so we’d found this old music hall in London underneath a train station in Angel, which basically now looked like a concrete car park in the shape of the Globe Theatre, and we thought, “If we could take people down fire escapes, and then the show could turn into Bergheim afterward and into a club, could that be interesting?” Then COVID happened. Afterward, the producers, ATG, who had jumped on board, said, “Look, we’ve got all these theaters that have been sitting empty. Could we ever take the experiential idea of taking an audience to an evening where, once they step over the threshold, they pass dancers and musicians and get discombobulated into a world where, by the time they reach the show proper, they’ve left all their troubles behind?” And I’ve always loved the backstage of theaters and seeing the grime and the grot behind the presentation. So that’s what we dug into.

And on Broadway, you guys basically invite people to arrive at 6:45 p.m. for what you call a prologue, and for over an hour before you ever show up onstage, bars are open and dancers are dancing and a whole vibe is created — it’s really its own show. REDMAYNE The dancers are extraordinary. Our choreographer, Julia Cheng, comes from a clubbing background, so one of the things we’re trying to do with the show is, although it’s very specifically set in its period, the echoes are so tangible now, and so the dance vocabulary is from waacking, from voguing, from contemporary club culture in the same way as the costumes. We’re not going, “This happened then; it can never happen again.” The costumes refer to contemporary fashions. There aren’t lots of Nazis in Nazi uniforms. It’s all trying to go, “Wait. There are regressions, things that we’ve talked about now, powers and rights being taken away and pulled back, and the loss of individuality.” Hopefully, the evening makes you think.

REDMAYNE I certainly agree with you about the physical costs. What I find interesting about doing Cabaret in the musical theater world is it demands a different set of skills that I’ve not necessarily harbored all my life and trained all my life. And whilst I look forward to serving this extraordinary piece every night, I’m filled with fear of whether technically I’m going to be capable to serve that. My wife, as I was having a complete meltdown in the lead-up to doing this, was back in London and reading Andre Agassi’s memoir [Open] — O’HARA Oh, it’s the best memoir! REDMAYNE And there’s a passage in it in which he talks about going to a musical on Broadway and how he relates to musical theater people because it’s that monastic, athletic living of having to eat, sleep and breathe something. My wife was sending it to me basically going, “Come on, you’re like Agassi!” But I’ve found that nothing upsets me more than when I have to go onstage to serve this stunning score in this extraordinary part in a beautiful — or I hope it’s a beautiful — production, and you are worried that you don’t have the facility to serve it to its full potential.

Does your ability to handle the demands of these parts vary depending on specific days of the week?

PAULSON Can I ask a question? Does anybody else loathe when people come on a Tuesday?

MCADAMS Yes!

PAULSON I hate the Tuesday show! When you come to see me on a Tuesday, I am so upset. People are like, “Lady, this was the time I could come…”

I would have assumed that on Tuesday, having had Monday off, you’re at your freshest…

O’HARA No. You’re not warm.

PAULSON A Tuesday, to me, I just feel like I’m finding my sea legs for the first 20 minutes of the play.

MCADAMS Yeah, you only had one day off, but it feels like a month.

O’HARA Tuesday’s not a good day. Don’t come on Tuesday.

REDMAYNE Guys! We need people to come on Tuesdays! [laughs and then jokingly continues] It’s my favorite night of the week!

RADCLIFFE It could go either way. It either feels like, “Oh, I’m back and I feel fresh,” or “I feel like I’ve never done the show before.”

Right. When I saw that, and ever since, I have said, “This is the greatest voice I’ve ever heard.” It was a great show. But it didn’t last very long. You never know what goes into these things — I read something where Leslie said that if Hamilton had come along five years earlier, who knows if even it would’ve clicked. It may be about just catching the zeitgeist. So I just wonder the degree to which you guys think about these things…

ODOM I’d love to hear you [O’Hara] talk about it because I —

O’HARA Why? Because this one closed too? [Laughs]

ODOM When I came to see you guys, man, did I love it so much.

O’HARA Listen, this musical was about alcoholism. Deep, dark alcoholism. And a love story, but riddled with this third player, right? So it wasn’t for everybody. I knew that it wasn’t the most commercial thing. It was an art piece, and I was so proud of that, actually. And we’re lucky that it had a space on Broadway for even a minute. But what killed me is that I felt like the population that needed it — us all being the daughter or having had that mother or knowing that father or whatever it was — I was worried that we hadn’t reached them. I sometimes worry that the business can be very formulaic, especially in how we sell things. And I was concerned that we weren’t reaching the audience, the whole new generation of sober-curious people, and people that don’t usually come to theater, or whole organizations that thrive and survive on sobriety or that need to have the conversation constantly or to see themselves in a story.

We were being told to sell it as a love story. We were deceiving people as they walked in the door, and I’m saying this out loud because it was one of the most painful parts of the process for me — to be doing that much, to be giving that much of my heart, and being so satisfied by the performance, and then I would literally have someone every single night come and see it and say, “Oh, I had no idea it was about alcoholism.” I jumped back on social media when we got the closing notice and started trying to promote the show, sweating, just to get more people in front of this beautiful piece of work. And I felt sad and angry because there was a time when that wasn’t your job as much; your job was to do eight shows a week with all your heart. But it felt like, “Gosh, I should have been more of an influencer. I should have been having things on the sidewalk [like Hamilton did].” And I started to get desperate because when you work on something for 20 years, and you know how special it is… But then you have to check yourself and say, “It’s special to me, and that doesn’t always translate to special to the larger community.” But it’s painful. When you’re in something that means the world to you, and it’s closing, it’s heartbreaking because it feels like a death.

REDMAYNE There’s something interesting that I’ve noticed, and that’s the extraordinary difference between doing a commercial play in the West End and on Broadway. The idea of grosses being announced and your makeup artist knowing them every Tuesday and telling you? In London, I had no idea. But here, as a producer on Cabaret as well, I had to say, in the producer meetings, “I’ll sit on all the calls, but I don’t want to know.”

With our remaining time, I’m going to give a few prompts and ask you to say the first thing that comes to your mind. To begin with: Excluding family, whose attendance at one of the performances of your show has meant the most to you?

PAULSON Laurie Metcalf.

RADCLIFFE Martin Short.

REDMAYNE Joel Grey.

MCADAMS Linda Maskell, my high school drama teacher — the reason I’m here.

ODOM Kathleen Battle came to our last performance, and I fell on the floor.

What’s the most unusual thing in your dressing room?

RADCLIFFE A small plastic basketball hoop that was left by Alex Edelman, who was in the show before ours. He said, “Do you want to keep it?” I was like, “Yeah, obviously!”

PAULSON I had a fan send me what looks like a taxidermy dog that is an identical replica of my dog. Everyone walks in the room, and they’re like, “Your dog is so calm!” I was like, “This is not a real dog.”

REDMAYNE Mine is something that looks like a loaf of really soft white bread, but it’s a stress ball. It was given to me by Jamie, who does my wigs. One day I was so in tears that she was like, “Eddie, you need some anger bread.”

What’s the most annoying thing that audiences, or at least some members thereof, are doing these days?

ODOM The cell phone thing. We had one crazy show where we had three or four cell phones going off. When you hear the first one, you should think, “Oh, shoot, let me actually turn mine off.” But there was a second one. And a third one. And it was in the first 20 minutes of the show. And so I did have to stop the show and say, “There’s grace in this moment. There’s amnesty. Let’s really do it [turn off all phones].”

PAULSON Good for you. God, I love that you did that. There is this thing of, “Let’s just be here together, all of us. You do your part. I’ll do mine.” I do feel like there is an alchemy every night, depending on what the audience is bringing and what we’re bringing.

O’HARA Oh, sure. They’re the final collaborator.

PAULSON Yes, they are the final collaborator.

MCADAMS I think people don’t realize that. I think they think you can’t even see them. I thought I wouldn’t be able to see them, but I can see everything. I can see when you’re sleeping. I can see you when you open your phone to see what time it is.

PAULSON I think the most annoying new thing that’s happening is everyone seems to have their cell phone in their lap, and so there’s all the phones dropping on the floor. And at the Helen Hayes, where we started, there’s no carpet, and so it would just be like [makes clanking noise]. Now, at the Belasco, you just hear this dull thud onto a carpet.

Eddie, there’s a lot of people that are getting smashed at your show, right? Is that an issue?

REDMAYNE “Come to Cabaret and get smashed!”

O’HARA “Especially on Tuesdays!”

REDMAYNE We do have a few vocal people. There was a moment last night when Gayle [Rankin, Redmayne’s Tony-nominated co-star], who is extraordinary in the show, was singing “Mein Herr,” and she got to that bit, “And I do, what I do, and I’m through, toodle-oo” — and literally there was a woman like, “Oh, my gosh, I love the ‘toodle-oo’!” [Laughs.] So occasionally, you get a good vocal Cabaret support.

MCADAMS Just a question. I remember someone — was it Jack White? — was asking people at concerts to put their phones in lockers or something. Has that happened on Broadway?

PAULSON They did it during Take Me Out because of the nudity. They did that. So, I know it can be done, and I would love to know why we don’t just do it. Just put your phone in a cubbyhole —

MCADAMS We’ll charge it for you.

PAULSON Would that be some cost-prohibitive thing to implement?

RADCLIFFE At Merrily, it’s been OK. I think being in a musical covers a lot — I’m sure stuff’s happening during those songs, but I can’t hear it. But since we’re here, my two favorites: On Equus, there was seating onstage, and I was onstage the whole time, and if I wasn’t in the scene I would just go back to sit on one of these four blocks — it was supposed to be my room at the hospital. And there was one night when I got to my block in the first scene that I wasn’t in, and two girls in the seats just started talking to me, just full voice, while Richard Griffiths and Kate Mulgrew were doing a scene behind me, just going, “Dan! Dan! Look up here!” It carried on through the whole first act. And then I was like, “I don’t need them to leave. But can they just go into the main auditorium so that they’re not just trying to speak to me through the show?” And then my other favorite audience member? I was doing Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead in London, and this dude came in, sat down, and, through Josh McGuire’s first monologue as Guildenstern, which is incredibly complicated, took out a footlong sandwich, wrapped in tin foil, unwrapped the whole thing, ate it in its entirety and fell asleep for the rest of the first act. But then in the second act, he was the most attentive audience member — jumped up at the end and clapped. I wanted to be like, “Wait, did you have a good time?” “Yeah. I had a dinner, had a sleep and saw half of a great show.”

If you could snap your fingers and make it so, what would be the ideal number of performances your show would offer per week?

RADCLIFFE I don’t want to make myself unpopular, but I like the grind.

ODOM I mean, listen, the ideal would be six, right? Six or seven.

PAULSON I think the Wednesday matinee is the one I would chuck. Because when you start the Tuesday week, and then you’ve got that matinee right away? I would like to do seven with no Wednesday mat.

O’HARA I would do anything to have two days in a row off.

REDMAYNE When you get two days off, your voice can really recover.

MCADAMS Oh, fuck that Tuesday show. [Laughs.] To get the Sunday or the Sunday night-Monday-Tuesday stretch off — I mean, I might actually leave the city and go somewhere where there’s nature.

Last one. If you could play any role on the stage that you have not played before — somebody’s listening — what would it be?

PAULSON I would like to do The Goat, or Who Is Sylvia?

REDMAYNE Oh! Which I would love to see you in. That was the first play I ever did in London, and you would be magnificent in that part.

RADCLIFFE I’ll know it when I see it.

REDMAYNE I’m exactly the same. I’m much better when people tell me which part I should play.

ODOM Someday — and it ain’t soon — I want to do Lear.

And the Purlie musical maybe still?

ODOM It could happen.

Rachel? Are you going to come back for more after this?

MCADAMS Not next year! [Laughs.] I would love to star in any musical, but that will never happen. So this is just all pipe dreams. But yeah, anywhere I could sing. I started out doing Disney musicals at theater camp, and I was so bad that the teacher said to me, “You know, you might be really good in the Shakespeare camp,” and sent me on my way, and it was devastating. But it was the right thing in the end.

full interview here!!

https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/lifestyle/arts/tony-nominations-roundtable-rachel-mcadams-daniel-radcliffe-eddie-redmayne-1235918192/

[seeminglyranch87]

Taylor & Travis Timeline

August 2024 - Part 2

"salt air and the rust on the door, I never needed anything more" August, T. Swift

August 11,12 - Chiefs Training Camp, St Joseph, Mo | Day 16 & 17

#1 The Tortured Poets Department tops the Billboard 200 for the 14th non consecutive week - and this has consequences for other artists...

August 13 - Daily Mail report (x)

Taylor Swift hosted a lavish thank you party for her 200-strong tour team at private members' club Annabel's in Mayfair, London on Tuesday night. The hitmaker, 34, let her hair down with her crew and partied until 3am ahead of her final leg of the Eras Tour at Wembley Stadium.

Taylor is dressed in Vivienne Westwood.

Chiefs Training Camp, St Joseph, Mo | Day 18

Patrick Mahomes is interviewed on SiriusXM and shares...

“I've been trying to get [Travis] to grow his hair out and all of a sudden Taylor gets him to do it."

Reminds me of this moment during the Eras Tour with Travis dancing to Shake It Off (x)

August 14 - Chiefs Training Camp, St Joseph, Mo | Day 19

August 15 - The Eras Tour, Wembley Stadium, London, UK N4

Taylor appeared to tear up at the first show after events in Vienna.

Everything Has Changed x End Game x Thinking Out Loud with Ed Sheeran (guitar x) & King Of My Heart & The Alchemy (piano x)

Taylor also does the archer pose during her performance of So High School - do we assume Travis is watching the live stream?

ETonline reports (x)

A source tells ET, "Taylor and Travis always prioritize each other even when they are physically apart. They are still in constant communication texting and FaceTiming each other." The source adds that the pair is "very affectionate with each other even when they're apart."  One way that Kelce apparently shows his affection is by lavishing Swift with heartfelt gifts.  "Travis sends Taylor flowers and loves to shower her with surprise gifts and tokens of gratitude," the source says. "Their connection is unlike anything that they've ever experienced before." 

IJBOL - available for a few more hours... thank You aimEe live, see Taylorswift.com to purchase!!! Let's keep TTPD at #1 and remember who made TS famous.

Chiefs Training Camp, St Joseph, Mo | Day 20 Military Appreciation Day & final practice

August 16 - The Eras Tour, Wembley Stadium, London, UK N5

Taylor debuts a new Midnights costume ✨🌙

London Boy (guitar) & Dear John x Sad Beautiful Tragic (piano)

August 17 - Chiefs v Lions, Arrowhead Stadium, Kansas City, MO. NFL preseason. 23 - 24

Patrick passes behind his back to Travis for the first down (x)

The Eras Tour, Wembley Stadium, London, UK N6

I Did Something Bad (guitar) & My Boy Only Breaks HIs Favourite Toys x Coney Island (piano)

Cheekily there was no announcement for Reputation (TV). Taylor has played all songs from Rep on the Eras Tour.

Travis attends Kansas City Current women's soccer final with Patrick & Brittany Mahomes & friends.

August 19 - The Eras Tour, Wembley Stadium, London, UK N7

Long Live x Change (guitar) & The Archer x You're On Your Own Kid (piano)

Travis at preseason practice, KC (x)

Travis Kelce is announced to star in action comedy ‘LOOSE CANNONS’ for Lionsgate (x).

Go to previous update -> August 2024 part 1

Go to next update -> August 2024 part 3

Return to the timeline

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Steve Cousineau

* * * *

The weekend review: A tale of two speeches.

March 18, 2024

ROBERT B. HUBBELL

Democrats cannot rely on Republicans to defeat themselves in 2024, but Trump and the GOP are doing their best to set their party aflame. They stand on a burning platform and are dousing the flames with gasoline. It is a bonfire of ugliness and self-immolation that further weakens the GOP each day. Their chaos doesn’t make our job any easier, but it does make their job more difficult. Remember that fact next time you worry about the passionate but principled disagreements among Democrats.

Trump gave a speech near Dayton, Ohio over the weekend that was unhinged, dangerous, threatening, vulgar, and inflammatory. Trump's speech is drawing nearly universal condemnation from major media outlets and forced his campaign to issue “clean-up” statements that attempted defend indefensible statements by denying the plain meaning of Trump's words.

I will turn to Trump's speech in a moment, but it is important to focus on the comparison to President Biden’s speech over the weekend. Biden delivered a short address at an event for the press and White House staff at the Gridiron Club in Washington, D.C. The annual event brings the press and administration officials together for a night of pointed comedy mixed with serious talk about the state of the media in America. As expected, Biden gave a speech that was funny and self-deprecating. It was well received. See Factbase, Transcript | The President Addresses a Gridiron Club Dinner in Washington - March 16, 2024.

But Biden also addressed the serious issue of the role of the press in a free society. Biden said,

Folks, every single one of us has a role to play in making sure American democracy endures. This year, you, the free press, have a bigger role than ever. Let me state the obvious. You're not the enemy of the people. You are a pillar of any free society. And I may not always agree with your coverage or admire it, but I do admire your courage. Good journalism holds a mirror up to a country for us to reflect the good, the bad, the truth about who we are. This is not hyperbole: We need you. Democracy is at risk, and the American people need to know. In fractured times, they need context and a perspective. They need substance to match the enormity of the task. As a result, the choices you make really matter. And each story you [write] makes democracy stronger. I know it's possible because I know the American story. We're a great nation. We're good people, defined by core values of honesty, decency, dignity, light over darkness, courage over fear, and truth over lies. These are also the bedrock principles of good journalism. So, tonight, I'd like to toast the free press and toast to the American people and the enduring causes of democracy and freedom.

Biden’s comments praising and honoring the press were a class act coming from a guy who has been badly mistreated by the press for the last year. But “class act” is vintage Biden.

In contrast, in Ohio, Trump predicted that there would be a “bloodbath” if he lost the 2024 election, said that immigrants “are not people [and] in some cases they are animals,” repeatedly referred to President Biden as “that son-of-a . . . .”, said he did “not give a sh*t” about Republicans who don’t support him, referred to California Governor Gavin Newsom and “New Scum,” and made a vulgar comment about Fulton County D.A. Fani Willis. Otherwise, the 90-minute speech was disjointed and incomprehensible to those not steeped in MAGA conspiracy theories. See NYTimes, Trump Says Some Migrants Are ‘Not People’ and Predicts a ‘Blood Bath’ if He Loses. (This article is accessible to all.)

A Trump campaign staff person claimed that the “bloodbath” comment was meant to convey the effect of a Biden victory on the auto industry. (See the Times article above.) While it is true that the comment took place in the context of a discussion of the auto industry, the statement about a “bloodbath” was not qualified or limited in any way. Trump said there would be a bloodbath if he lost. Period. Full stop.

It was vintage Trump—oblique statements alluding to violence shrouded in plausible deniability. But Trump's followers are not steeped in nuance or subtlety. They hear “bloodbath”, and they think “violence.” That is why major media has not bought the Trump campaign’s attempt to twist the meaning and limit the damage from Trump's call to violence.

But for all the attention that Trump's “bloodbath” comment has received, another aspect of Trump's Dayton rally was more disturbing and unsettling. Trump began the speech by playing the desecrated version of the National Anthem that he recorded with January 6 convicted felons serving prison time.

As the bastardized song begins, a recorded voice says, “Please rise for the horribly and unfairly treated January 6 hostages.” The recorded voice then refers to the January 6 defendants as “unbelievable patriots.” During Trump's speech, he effectively promised to grant the January 6 defendants pardons.

There is nothing subtle about Trump's messaging. By calling for a “bloodbath” and referring to the January 6 defendants as “patriots” who will be pardoned, Trump is creating a permission structure for another violent insurrection. That’s the real story—and one that deserves to be highlighted every day between now and November 5, 2024.

That truth will become clearer each time Trump gives another campaign speech. He can’t help himself. He telegraphs what he is thinking and plotting. We should believe him. And so should that portion of corporate America that continues to support Trump.

The good news is that insurrection is not in the best interests of the institutions that are currently propping up Trump in a perverted love-hate relationship. Markets thrive on stability, not violence and insurrection. Corporate America understands that better than anyone.

But it gets worse.

Within twenty-four hours of Trump's call for a “bloodbath,” he called for the imprisonment of former Rep. Liz Cheney and the other members of the January 6 Committee. See Newsweek, Donald Trump Wants His Top Republican Critic Jailed.

So—Trump is calling for a second insurrection and prosecution of the current and former congressional representatives on the January 6 Committee. It doesn’t get any less subtle than that. Even Trump's least intuitive followers understand what Trump is saying.

As Trump is becoming more explicit in his dictatorial aspirations, he is also deteriorating cognitively. Last week, I cited a New Yorker article by Susan Glasser entitled, I Listened to Trump’s Rambling, Unhinged, Vituperative Georgia Rally—and So Should You. The New Yorker article is behind a paywall, so you may not have been able to read it. But Ali Velshi interviewed Susan Glasser on MSNBC and covered the substance of the article—so you can listen to Glasser discuss her observations about Trump. The interview is here. See MSNBC, You need to see how much worse Trump is now: Glasser.

In short, we have an aspiring dictator in cognitive decline who is telling us what his strongman fantasies are. As Bill Clinton would have said, “That dog won’t hunt.” We should be able to leverage those weaknesses to our advantage. They are scary, yes. But a disciplined response should allow us to convert Trump's increasing mania to our benefit—in part, by convincing persuadable independents and disaffected Republicans that the unhinged candidate they see on the campaign trail is unfit to govern this great nation again.

This leaves only the strongman fantasies of Trump's followers. Their loyalty to Trump makes sense only if he is their strongman, as Professor Timothy Snyder explains on his Substack blog, Thinking About. . . . The Strongman Fantasy.

As Professor Snyder writes,

Strongman rule is a fantasy. Essential to it is the idea that a strongman will be your strongman. He won't. In a democracy, elected representatives listen to constituents. We take this for granted, and imagine that a dictator would owe us something.  But the vote you cast for him affirms your irrelevance. The whole point is that the strongman owes us nothing. We get abused and we get used to it. 

There is probably little we can do to convince Trump's most cultish followers that Trump sees their support only as transactional and expendable. But Trump will continue to repulse portions of his remaining constituency by calling immigrants “animals,” praising thugs who killed police officers on January 6, mocking the disabled, calling soldiers “losers and suckers,” and desecrating the Christian principles that serve as the faith foundation for a majority of his supporters.

As I said at the top, we can’t count on Trump to defeat himself. But we should recognize that he is a weak candidate stranded on a burning platform, and he is acting as the chief arsonist. Every new voter we register and turn out to the polls will help build an insurmountable margin as Trump's former supporters at the margins reevaluate their past support for Trump. That is the only advantage we need in a closely matched election. We can make that happen—we already are!

[Robert B. Hubbell Newsletter]

[nixytea]

one aisle away | k.sn

synopsis » the cafe sunoo ‘s parents run isn’t just any cafe. the hundreds of classics in this old, dusty bookshop - austen, dickens, hemingway, you name it - are all the flip of a page away for anyone who wishes to enjoy literature with a cup of coffee in hand. a schoolmate visits every day, and he can’t help but hope she talks to him, even if it’s just to ask for food or a book.

pairing » café employee!kim sunoo x customer!reader

genre » book café au, fluff, light comedy, schoolmates(?) au

warnings » studying, sad top student, sunoo is very whipped, yn is kinda sad

a/n » in case you can’t tell, i really really like bookstores and coffee. not rly a typical café au so idk! i just think sunoo in an apron is very cute.

w/c » 1.3k

IN sunoo’s small world, home is never far away. home is in the bitterly rich aroma of freshly-ground beans, in the gentle whirr of a coffee machine, in the delicate cream foam that sticks to the edge of a mug (and eventually someone’s upper lip).

but sunoo’s safe place is not made of coffee beans and evaporated milk alone. if he could build a roof of paper over his head, so that whenever you looked up you would see words instead of a starry night sky, he would do it in a heartbeat. comfort is in the steady fluttering of sepia-tinted pages, the faint woody smell that tells you once upon a time, the crisply folded sheets before you were living and breathing. maybe that was what made the stories tediously crafted upon the pages come to life.

to say sunoo is absolutely thrilled to finally help out in his parents’ café would be an understatement. for as long as he can remember, the quaint coffee house-library has been his paradise. his sister works full time here, so the one in charge when he helps out is usually her. after long days at school, the café’s atmosphere is all he needs to unwind. it’s a popular place too, and sunoo’s parents are doing well. students and office workers alike come here during their breaks. mothers take their children here for a time of peace and quiet away from home. sunoo’s even seen some sweet ahjummas come down for a book club session.

the best part of it all, however, wasn’t just the café. every day after school, sunoo would slip the khaki-coloured apron around his waist, plead with his sister to let him run the register, and greet the patrons with a smile. it was the perfect opportunity for sunoo to catch a glimpse of you.

you’d shown up in his safe place very suddenly - shortly after he’d uploaded a video on the café’s tiktok (“perfect for students!” it said). he didn’t think someone would actually show up, let alone his class’ top student. but either way, your presence was welcome. every day, you would come alone, randoseru in tow, to the same spot next to the window, just one aisle away from the cashier. sometimes, he’d save it for you, although you didn’t need to know that. he even had your coffee order memorised. he likes that you chose that spot, since he can just turn his head and watch you for as long as he wants.

his sister had noticed you the day you walked into the café. “sunoo, isn’t that girl from your school? she’s wearing the uniform,” she had asked him, a sly smile creeping onto her face as sunoo’s cheeks began to warm with a deep red. “yah noona, she’s just a schoolmate, don’t think too much about it!”

little did his sister know, the one thinking too much was him. he had met you in school multiple times: cleaning duty, at the canteen, even shared the same english class once. but you’ve been so absorbed in your work that you never realised it was him who served you your coffee every day. he always volunteered, hoping you’d look up. but you always replied with nothing more than a soft “thank you”, and maybe it was his fault for not staying long enough for you to see his face.

on this particular day, sunoo’s sister has decided that if she can’t get any action, she’ll just have to live through her brother. “just talk to her. she definitely knows your name, right?”

sunoo groans, burying his head in his arms. “you just don’t get it. i can’t just go up to her, that’s terrifying.”

“you drama queen!” she chides, slapping her brother’s arm playfully. “what’s the matter? aren’t you supposed to be a social butterfly? i should tell your heeseung hyung about how shy you’re being over a girl.”

he drags a hand over his face, weariness washing over him at his weakened resolve. “i can’t, noona. she’s too pretty.”

his sister’s laughter fills the little back room, the teasing smirk only growing wider. “and you’re a pretty boy. perfect match. now go on out there and cherish your youth!” with a rough (but well-meaning) shove, sunoo finds himself standing behind the counter. and who better to show up now of all times than you? 

you scan the array of daintily decorated cakes behind the glass casing, and sunoo notices your eyes lingering on the same cake you get every time. fighting the amused chuckle that threatens to surface in his throat, sunoo puts on his brightest smile. not his usual customer service smile, but a genuine one saved for you. “you know, i can recommend a different flavour to you. i promise you’ll like it!” he quips, eager to prove himself. 

for the first time, sunoo sees your usually stoic demeanor crumble into a flustered one. “you…know my order?” your voice is music to sunoo’s ears, even more so since he’s hearing more words than “one lemon cake please” for the first time.

“of course! how would you like to try a slice of our matcha cake? there’s macarons on the top too! and the buttercream is heavenly, freshly made this morning. how’s that sound?”

the faint smile that twitches in the corner of your lips sends sunoo squealing internally. how can someone be so cute? “yeah, i’d like that. thanks…what’s your name?”

“sunoo! kim sunoo. we go to the same school,” he offers, grinning giddily as he sets your cake on a plate. “you’re in oh haewon’s class, right?”

“yeah, and you’re in the class next door?” 

he nods in reply. “mhm. i’ve heard about you. you’re our school’s top student, that’s so cool.”

a smile breaks out across your face, but sunoo notices a bitter undertone under the surface. “ha, well it comes at a cost, as you can see. i come here every day alone to study. not much of a social life, unlike you. i mean, you’re really sociable. you hang out with the seniors and the juniors. literally everyone knows you. and your grades are in the top percentile too, aren’t they?”

you aren’t wrong, sunoo has to concede. he’s seen you during lunch, eating your sandwich alone. sometimes he wants to join you, let you talk his ears off so you won’t have to not say a word. he wants to hear you, to see you, because everything about you is just so airy, as if it were straight out of a dream. a dream he’d never want to wake up from.

“we…aren’t really in such different worlds, you know. i still wanna get to know you.” sunoo clears his throat, averting his gaze as the reality of what he just said slaps him in the face the moment he sees your eyes expand to match the huge oreos in the display case. oh no, too soon?

but the panic is momentary, as he soon watches a flicker of hope appear in your eyes, an adorably shy smile adorning your face. “me too. you've been so sweet, i should find some way to return my gratitude..” 

then keep coming, he wants to say. come here every day, so we can pretend we’re leading double lives like we're two idiots in a cheesy romance novel. 

you glance around, and sunoo swears his heart’s learnt to do gymnastics as his eyes meet yours. “so, uh…any books you’d recommend? i’ve always been an aisle away from the counter, and i think i’m ready to pick up some new books.” there’s a newfound confidence in your voice, an unmistakable invitation offered towards him, and sunoo is determined not to let this chance slip by. “no problem. i’ll deal with a few customers and join you soon. oh,” he adds, winking in your direction. “don’t miss me too much.”

one aisle away? not anymore.

a/n: hELLO im back isnt sunoo cute!!! y/n u are cute too 🫶🫶 (also is it just me or does adding the readmore line triple the paragrph underneath. also day 2 after posting this a huge chunk got deleted and idk why im still trying to fix it, sorry for the long chunk!!) @svnkistz / @rikittens thx for beta reading this heheheheheh loved ur jake fic btw!!! read it here