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george-weasleys-girl · 8 months

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Hellooo so I saw that your requests are open :D and I was wondering if you could do a Fred and fem reader with an angry love confession in the rain with prompt 4 and 15 of your fluff/angst prompts list please? No pressure at all only if you want to :)

This turned into quite the saga! Thank you for requesting it 💗

What Took You So Long?

Fred Weasley x fem!reader

~•~

The café buzzed all around them, but Fred sat motionless, staring across Diagon Alley at Y/N standing outside her little shop, chatting with a customer.

"Hey, mate," George said.

No response.

"Hey Fred," he tried again.

Again nothing.

"Freddieeee."

Still nothing.

"Earth to Fred. Come in, Fred. This is ground control to Major Fred."

"Huh, what?" Fred snapped out of his daze.

George rolled his eyes. "Are you gonna eat, or are you just gonna sit there and drool over Y/N all afternoon?"

"I'm not drooling!" Fred touched the corner of his mouth. "Am I?"

His twin shook his head and chuckled. "You know, if you're so in love with her, you should ask her out."

"I never said I was in love with her!" Fred looked horrified.

"Maybe not out loud." George said.

The older twin sighed and shook his head. Very little got past his twin. "I don't know..." Fred said. "We're friends. I don't want to make things weird between us."

"Suit yourself," George shrugged and dug into his lunch.

Fred heaved another sigh, returning his attention back to Y/N, who, when she noticed him, broke out into a brilliant smile and waved.

He gave her a quick wave in return and immediately turned his attention to his sandwich, worried that his face might spontaneously burst into flames at any moment.

~•~

Y/N and Fred had known each other since their Hogwarts days. They weren't really friends then, so much as friendly acquaintances. Fred had been too enamored with Angelina to actually notice her. Not that it would've mattered much anyway. Y/N had been involved with a Ravenclaw bloke for most of their school years.

All that changed after the war. Y/N opened a small perfumery on Diagon Alley and soon became a regular at the joke shop. Her oldest sister coincidentally had twin boys, and Y/N spoiled them to bits.

"My sister's gonna kill me," she'd told Fred, laughing, when he showed her their newest product, Whizzies, a less dramatic version of Whizbangs for the younger crowd.

"You know, we do sell Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder in case you need to make a quick getaway," Fred suggested with a mischievous grin.

"Hmm... that might be a good idea," she said, returning his grin and added the powder to her purchase.

Y/N returned a few days later to regale him with the results of her most recent purchases, which involved a few small explosions that set the sofa on fire, followed by her quick getaway. After she helped put out the fire, of course.

It didn't take long for Fred to fall head over heels for her.

~•~

That was a year ago. And he still hadn't worked up the courage to ask her out.

"Tell me the truth, Freddie," George asked him the night after seeing his twin's face turn beet red at lunch. "What's up with this woman? What happened to Mr. I Can Get Any Girl I Want?"

Fred shrugged. "He ran away the moment he realized how much he liked her. It scares me, George, how much I like her. What if we get together and I fuck it up like I did with Angie? I... I don’t think I can go through... that again."

Ah. George nodded and patted his brother's shoulder. It all makes sense now. Fred was devastated when things didn't work out with Angelina. Of course, in public, he played off like it didn't bother him. It was only when he and Fred were alone that his twin let the mask slip. George couldn't ask him to put his heart on the line like that again. Nor did he know if he could watch Fred go through that kind of heartbreak again. So, he let the matter drop.

~•~

Y/N had never really given Fred Weasley much thought when they were in school. She remembered him being cute and funny, and maybe a bit crazy. But her interests lay elsewhere at the time.

Things were different now, though. For one, she was single, and for two, Fred had grown up. He was still cute and funny and a bit crazy, but it was tempered now with a sense of responsibility. Whether that came from the war or being a business owner or a combination of both, she didn't know. But she would really, really like to. In truth, she would like to know everything about him.

She'd thought that maybe he liked her back. He'd certainly given off those vibes many times. But it'd been almost a year and nothing more than the occasional invites to lunch with him and George had happened. And whenever she suggested that just the two of them do something, he always had other plans.

Perhaps she was wrong, she thought. Maybe it was time to give it up before she broke her own heart.

~•~

"Y/N hasn't stopped by the in three weeks," Fred peered down at her shop from their usual table at the café.

"Maybe she's been busy," George shrugged.

"Yeah, maybe..." Fred mumbled, shifting in his chair to get a better view of the perfumery's entrance. If she stepped out, he'd decided he'd wave her over.

But she never did.

Fred hated feeling so vulnerable and confused. He was the man with the plan, but he had no plan for this. Y/N had never been far from his mind to begin with, but now, she was all he could think about. Every time the shop door opened, his hopes rose only to sink through the floor seconds later when he realized it wasn't her.

Is she ok? Is she just busy? Did I say or do something wrong? Is she angry at me? Should I try to go talk to her?

Fred had admitted to himself that he cared for her, but he didn't realize how much until she stopped coming around.

"She's all I can think about, George," Fred confessed one night while they were working on paperwork. "Everywhere I turn in the store, I see where she's been. I hear her laughter. Every new invention, I think of her and how much I want to show it to her. Does she not buy stuff for her nephews anymore?"

George sighed and watched his twin for a moment. "I've been debating whether or not to show you this," he pulled a document from his pile of paperwork. "Here's the list for all the mail orders for this past month. She's made two big mail orders."

Fred snatched it from his brother's hands. "Why are you just telling me this?!"

"I didn't know until a couple of hours ago when Michael gave me his compiled list."

"But... why?" Fred stared at the paper. "Did I do something?"

"I don't know, Freddie. I wish I did."

~•~

Another week passed.

Nothing. Not even a glimpse of her.

And then, it happened. Fred spied Y/N sprinting past the joke shop, no doubt trying to get inside before the oncoming storm burst. Without a thought, he raced out the door after her.

"Y/N!" He called out. "Wait up!"

She stopped and stared at him, the wind whipping her hair in every direction.

"Hey," Fred greeted her. "How are you?"

"I'm uh, I'm good..." She looked up at the dark clouds roiling above them.

"Yeah, yeah. That's good," Fred replied. "I just, um... I was worried about you. You haven't been by the shop in a month."

Thunder rolled in the distance, and the first droplets fell, pattering on the cobblestones.

"You stopped me because I haven't been to the joke shop??" She wiped away a raindrop that pelted her just above her left eye and shook her head. "I'm going, Fred."

"No, wait," he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Please, Y/N."

She whirled around. "In case you haven't noticed, the bottom is getting ready to drop out!" She gestured toward the sky.

"I know, I just," he stammered. "Are you mad at me?"

"What?" She actually looked shocked. "Why would I be mad at you?"

Fred threw his hands in the air. "I don't know!You tell me! You're the one making mail orders instead of coming into the store."

Another clap of thunder, this time closer, then lightening rent the sky above them.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Fred," Y/N wiped her wet hair away from her face. "I'm not mad at you, ok?"

She started to turn away, but Fred stopped her again. "Then why don't you come into the shop anymore?"

The rain was now beginning to soak into their clothes. "Why do you care?!" She snapped, the lightening in her eyes far more intimidating than any the storm could produce.

"I - I uh," Fred chewed his lip, rain dripping off his nose. "I miss you."

"You miss me??" A year's worth of frustration and disappointment boiled over and exploded out. "I'm just another fucking customer to you! It shouldn't make a difference whether I shop in the store or not. You're still getting my money!"

"Wh - I don't care about your money!" Fred stepped closer to her. "You're not just another customer to me! You're... you're..."

"I'M WHAT, FRED WEASLEY??" She raged. "WHAT THE HELL AM I TO YOU?"

"YOU'RE MY FAVORITE PERSON!" He yelled back.

Y/N blinked, her hands dropping to her sides, as all her anger melted away with the rain. "What..."

"You're my favorite person, Y/N," he repeated, softer. "And I miss you. I miss you so much. Everything reminds me of you. It's driving me insane."

She stood frozen in place, eyes riveted on the man before her for a few long moments. Then suddenly, she rushed toward him and caught her in his arms, their lips melding together, passionate and electric, matching the intensity of the storm.

"What took you so long?" She teased once they parted.

Fred chuckled. "I'm an idiot."

Y/N smiled and nodded, squinting against the sun now peeking through the dissipating storm clouds. "I don't know about you, but I'm soaked to the bone. And I'm starting to shiver a little."

"Well, we certainly can't have that," Fred pressed her tighter to him. "Your place or mine?"

"I'm thinking yours," Y/N said, peeking around him. "George is standing in the doorway with his hands on his hips, glaring at us."

"Oh right," Fred turned and waved. "I ran out and left him alone during the afternoon rush. I'm in big trouble now."

"Best we hurry, then," Y/N giggled and gave him one more quick kiss.

~•~

@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @nighttimemoonlover @jsjcue @wzrd-wheezes @fredweasleyyyyy @hufflepuffie @alexistonks @anvaaryn @samshifts @asuperconfusedgirl @superduckmilkshake @mysticsheepsoul @gemofthenight @1lellykins @junerprsh @sierraluvz @wolfkill16 @smallsweetvanillabean @costheticbabe @charmedfandomgal @hanne-montana @rhunew @greenapplegrass @lizzytrees @spididerman @Havenater1920 @jelloangela @whotfskai @netflix-addict @lunacurlclaw

#fred weasley #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x fem!reader #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley angst #fred weasley fluff #hp fandom #hp universe

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dedalvs · 7 months

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hi im working on my senior thesis in spanish and was wondering if you or someone in the notes could answer a question for me

im planning on creating some kind of explanation for the various uses of 'se' (as a reflexive pronoun, middle voice marker, impersonal subject marker, passive marker) and im not sure if i should just jump into it or if i should use some descriptive framework (the problem there being that i can only really think of generative grammar and i have 0 experience with that)

my other option is to look at it from a historical point of view (double major in classics so my latin is excellent) but i'm not sure about how much i'd actually accomplish in terms of novel-idea-making there

tldr; what are some alternatives to transformational-generative grammar or just doing a diachronic study

This is a good question, and I'll give this a bit of a signal boost. You might consider taking a look at what @spanishskulduggery has done over the years. They have a number of posts about phenomena in Spanish including the various uses of se. Transformational grammar doesn't really explain anything, so it won't be useful for anyone outside a syntactician. It's like if you're hanging off a cliff asking for help and someone comes to you and says, "You're hanging because at an earlier stage of development, your chi dharma failed to elevate to your karma node, because its features were already checked before spellout." Then they calmly walk away with a supreme sense of satisfaction.

Now, if you're asking how to do something new, there's no answer to that, I think, because either I or someone else comes up with some brand new whizbang explanation, which would be useless, since it isn't yours, or we'll come up with nothing, leaving you in roughly the same spot.

Also, I think this question is now old because I kind of stopped looking at my asks and I feel like 70 years passed and I left the endless cycle of death and rebirth, reached nirvana, dug it, wanted something new, and so voluntarily entered the cycle of death and rebirth again, lived, opened a woodworking shop, had a fairly good run of it, sold the business, walked the earth for a decade or so, then opened a juice collective where I fronted an alt-folk-funk band called the BanCrerrys. We had a couple of hits, but Cindy and MP started dating, wanted to take things in a new creative direction, and I just wasn't up for the arguments, so I bailed, and now they're known as the FruiTee-ish'n Scholarship Service, and they do both music and pottery jams. I, meanwhile, hung up by banjo and returned to my old life as a Tumblorg, where I returned to find this ask, and now I feel like I'm staring up at it from the bottom of a koi pond, thinking things like, "Linguistics...? Papers...?"

In other words, sorry I couldn't be of more help.

#Spanish #linguistics #grammar #syntax #etc

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aphroditestummyrolls · 5 months

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Hi friend!

Honestly all your wonderful wips haunt my thoughts constantly lol, but for the wip ask game I’m going with Between Hope and Desperation! 💖💖💖

Friend! ❤️ I’m sorry it took so long for me to get this out, but it’s finally hereee! ✨

From the outside looking in, it would be easy to assume that Kaz Brekker had little experience with fear. That was done intentionally, of course— no Barrel boss worth their salt could be seen as some scared little boy. He’d done his best to seem only nominally human, let alone young, or…

Kaz’s jaw was clenched to the point of snapping as he looked up at the map on his office wall. Each blocked off section was assigned to a different group of dregs. Each tiny drawn house on the Geldstraat and pinned building of interest was under the careful eye and ear of a different spider.

Nobody just disappears, he reminded himself. And nobody in this city has enough of a brain to steal two crows without bragging.

Someone knows something. Someone will talk.

All Kaz had to do was have ears nearby enough to hear it.

In the meantime, he didn’t think the Slat had ever felt stranger.

It was bad enough, with Inej’s seat on the window sill so markedly vacant. Every time he considered himself to be adjusting to it, it seemed like something happened that reminded him that he didn’t have to leave the window open for her silent approach. At first, the irony really grated on his nerves— that the quietest, slightest person in his life would leave such a cavernous hollow of space behind.

Of course, those things weren’t Inej, though— were they? They were the skills she’d acquired to survive. The person he missed was her.

Now, though, with Jesper gone, too?

He supposed he could only expect that the gap Jesper left behind would suit the brash, dazzling, loud person he was.

But, honestly, he never expected Jesper to go missing at all. With Inej, freedom was always the intended goal— there was always, at least, a distant end planned for their partnership. He never liked it, but it was always there. Jesper was… different.

Jesper Fahey was in constant motion, maybe, but he was a whizbang— spiralling and burning out in wild shapes and colours, never moving too far from where he’d been lit. Kaz knew this. He’d picked it out long before he knew him, before he started to care. Back when he was just a destitute barrel rat with surprisingly good aim, scurrying to and from the gutters in the East Stave. Back when he was just another investment.

A tool. He was a tool never meant to leave Kaz’s toolbox.

The knee jerk sensation of missing a floorboard haunted his every other step when he remembered that Jesper wasn’t there. That the quiet was because Jesper wasn’t laughing, wasn’t filling the air with gunfire and useless chat, wasn’t starting a fight or flirting his way back into bed.

Sure, certain things that Kaz had taken for granted about his sharpshooter had changed recently— but, it wasn’t nearly the same as losing him entirely.

Kaz hadn’t slept in the two days since he and Nina had found the workshop. It seemed like all he ever did was wallow in the misery of the Slat, give orders, and stare at this bloody map.

Wylan drew this map, a voice in his head piped up traitorously— it sounded like Inej. Don’t forget about Wylan.

How could he ever forget about their runaway prince?

Thanks so much for playing! ❤️

#six of crows #wesper #wylan van eck #jesper fahey #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #nina zenik #matthias helvar

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nostalgiachan · 2 months

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Whizbangs!

Seventh Prompt: Shopping in Baldur's Gate

Act Three Spoilers

Summary: Vier needs fireworks, and there's only one shop she knows of that sells them. But are they on the up-and-up, or have they fallen back into bad habits? (1403 words)

---

Felogyr’s Fireworks: Now Under New Management!

Vier eyeballed the sign above the door warily. The last time she’d been there, the place had been stuffed to the gills with Banites who’d attempted to taint donations to the refugees with explosives, and clearing out the lot of them had been no easy feat. It still stuck in her craw a bit that she hadn’t been able to resolve the situation more peacefully; the last proprietor of this place, one Avery Sonshal, seemed to have been quite the lovely fellow before he became another of the infected. But with most of the Flaming Fist also being thralls to Enver Gortash, there was nothing else to be done - not without putting the refugees’ lives even further at risk. But who was this “new management,” she wondered. Had remnants of the Banites swooped in, this being one of the few of their hideouts that Vier and her compatriots hadn’t completely wiped from the face of Faerûn? Or had this place turned over a new leaf, some unrelated third party seeing some prime real estate with a legacy name and deciding to give its image a bit of rehabilitation?

Well, one way or another, Vier was heading in. After all, this was the only place she knew of that sold the sorts of fireworks she needed, and she hadn’t traveled a tenday-and-a-half from Dawnshire to Baldur’s Gate just to back out now. Karlach’s birthday party demanded no less.

The shop door jauntily jingled as it opened, and a chipper voice greeted Vier as she passed through. “Welcome to Felogyr’s!” the woman behind the counter chirped - a Deep Gnome, from the looks of her. “Makers of the finest fireworks in all Faerûn; if I’m lying, I’m dying! What’re you in the market for, Miss–?” As the shopkeeper gave Vier a once-over, her eyes went wide. “Oh, oh, I think I know you! Hero of Baldur’s Gate, yeah? Cor, who’da thought you’d show up in my shop, eh?”

Vier honestly hadn’t expected anyone would’ve remembered what she’d looked like, as many months as it had been since the whole crisis had calmed down, and especially not someone of whom she had no recollection. She hitched for a moment, not entirely certain what the woman’s angle was. “Yes, I suppose that’s me,” she finally managed to reply.

“Iffin I may, might I shake your hand?” the shopkeep asked, extending a calloused mitt to Vier, who somewhat hesitantly gripped it. “I’ve heard so much about you from ol’ Barcus - you’re the reason I even got this shop at all!”

“Barcus? As in ‘Wroot’?” Vier asked, and the shopkeep nodded enthusiastically.

“The very same! See, ever since the end of that whole kerfuffle with the squid wotsits, things have turned around quite mightily for the ol’ Ironhands. After we helped out with all that nasty fighting, Barcus had a little chat with Duke Ravengard, and he managed to get us un-exiled from the city! Things are still a smidge strained with the Gondians, but you know…least we ain’t trying to kill ‘em no more, yeah? Anyway, once we were allowed to set up shop in the city proper, I happened to find this little building just lying around - in pretty good shape, too, even after all the hubbub. Place was absolutely full o’ corpses, mind, which a little birdy told me might’ve been your doing. Sad business, that, but it is what it is. Which, now that I think on it, did nobody check in on this place ever? Anyway, anyway, I moved right in, gave it a good scrubbin’, and now I get to spend my days making whizbangs what’d make Gaerdal Ironhand herself crack a smile!”

Vier nearly jumped as the shopkeep slammed her hands gleefully down on the table. “But enough about me! Oh, by the way, name’s Jeminy Swill, lovely to meet’cha. But no, enough about me, I said! I reckon you’re in the market for things what go BOOM in the night, yeah?”

While Vier certainly appreciated Jeminy’s exuberant salesmanship, and she was more than glad to hear that Barcus and his cohort were thriving since she’d left the city, she was beginning to feel a bit exhausted just listening to all of that. “Ah, yes, I am,” she answered. “I’m looking to supply a birthday celebration, and I’ve got about…couple hundred gold or so to do it? What’s going to give me the most quality and quantity, you think?”

Jeminy playfully wagged a finger in Vier’s direction. “Oh-ho-ho, I think I know just the box o’ fun that I can put together for you,” she said with a throaty chuckle. “Gimme a moment, and I’ll be back with some proper goodies!” She hustled around the counter and up the stairs - no doubt the upper floors were still dedicated to the blackpowder craft. For a moment, Vier wondered why they didn’t use the basement as their manufactory instead; she’d quite handily proven months ago that working with highly flammable material high up in a largely wooden building was incredibly dangerous for all involved. Was the basement not aerated enough?

As she idly mused, the shop door jingled once more, and a hooded figure quickly scurried inside, right on time.

“Oh, good, you’re alright,” Vier spoke quietly as she turned to face her companion. “Find anything?”

“Fireworks, fireworks, and more fireworks,” the voice of Astarion poured out from beneath the hood, sounding almost disappointed. “Nothing incriminating in the basement, and no conveniently placed documents suggesting Banite connections upstairs. So far as I can tell, this place is back to being a perfectly innocent haven for pyromaniacs.”

Vier breathed a sigh of relief, and quickly snuck in a kiss when she had the chance. “Thank you for the help, dear. Are you sure you’ll be alright to get the drinks? You aren’t going to get stuck in a brightly lit lane out there?”

“How quickly we forget how long I’ve prowled these streets,” Astarion tutted. “I may be living the country life now, but the alleys and sewers of Baldur’s Gate are practically engraved on the backs of my eyelids. I’ll be there and back before you know it.”

With a second quick kiss, Astarion was off on his next quest, leaving Vier to wait for Jeminy’s return. It wasn’t long before the Deep Gnome was bounding back down the stairs, two solidly built dwarves in tow with a hefty crate carried between them. They deposited their payload before Vier.

“Behold, Felogyr’s Fabulous Festive-box,” Jeminy cheered as she removed the lid of the crate with a showman’s flair. “Not sure I’ll stick with that name, but it’s a work in progress. Anyway, this here is a mixture of just about every sort of whizbang we’ve got, from tiny crackers to giant firewheels, handhelds to massive rockets. Every color, every size, explosions, no explosions, it’s all right here! Let me give you a tour of some of my favorites here.” Patiently, Vier listened as Jeminy detailed a selection of fireworks - what color explosion they’d produce, how big and what shape the explosion would be, how loud they screamed as they soared through the sky. Normally, Vier might have been a bit impatient, but now that her concerns about the management had been thoroughly put to rest, she supposed she had nothing on her hands but time.

With each new, incredibly thorough description, she pictured the night of Karlach’s party. As soon as that portal to the First Layer opened, and Karlach and Wyll stepped foot on Faerûn once more, a feast of Dawnshire’s finest fare would await them, mugs and goblets overflowing with the best booze she could afford. There’d be music, merriment, and overtop of it all, the sky would glitter with rainbow fire. Any day that those two got to return to the mortal world was cause for celebration, but Vier wanted to make sure with this party that Karlach knew she was loved; that Vier, Astarion (though you’d have to put him in thumbscrews before he’d say it to her directly), and the rest of their compatriots were happy that she was born; and that one day soon, she’d be back on Toril for good and they’d all party even harder.

Vier snapped back to attention just as Jeminy had finished her patter. “So, what do you say? Sound enticing?”

“Absolutely,” Vier replied, “I’ll take the whole lot.”

#my writing #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #astarion #drow tav #vier alurlssrin #astarion x tav #karlach #wyll ravengard #Full disclosure: I haven't actually done the epilogue yet so I don't know what Barcus and Pals are up to post-game #Apologies if this doesn't quite line up #barcus wroot #Also this one's late because last night was a pretty awful time to try to write

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emmy-dekarios-bg3 · 1 month

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Heart of the Weave - A Baldur’s Gate Fanfiction

Chapter 4

A faint yet loud voice outside the front door can be heard, and I begin to think: there’s no way they’re here already?! The sooner the better I suppose! Gale and I press our ears to the door, wondering if it’s who we think it is. The voice is rather familiar; too familiar, in fact.

“You mean to tell me there’s not a Whizbangs in Waterdeep? COME ON!!” Ah, yes. Karlach. Karlach is our funny, enthusiastic Tiefling friend who had an engine for a heart. She was also on the nautiloid and infected with one of those parasites within the ocular region. Her story is that she was basically sold to Avernus – or, Hell – by someone she once trusted. His name was Gortash and he was one of the bastards we had to kill in Baldur’s Gate. His evil political influence and desire to dominate the world was nauseating and unbearable, so we had to do what we had to do. Plus, Karlach got her revenge. He should not have sold her to Hell to serve for an archdevil. She went back to Avernus with Wyll, the Blade of Avernus, so they can fight together and keep her alive. Her engine would not allow her to live much outside of the Hells.

Gale opens the door and there stands three of our loyal, badass friends on the castle porch: Shadowheart, Karlach, and Wyll. It appears Lae’zel is still in the Astral Planes, and who knows what happened to Astarion, Halsin, and Jaheira? I start to wonder what happened to our other loving friends who started new lives elsewhere.

“Holy shit! It’s Gale! Wait, is that Emmy behind you?! How’d you know we were here?” Karlach says enthusiastically, looking as if she’s ready to punch an object out of pure excitement.

“Well, you do know we’re married, do you not?” Gale asks her with a smirk painted upon his face. I can’t help but laugh at his remark, because she was at our wedding. “Besides, we knew you were here because there’s only one person – er, tiefling – we know that gets this excited about Whizbangs.”

“Damn pal. You got me.”

“Karlach and I found a forge in Avernus to fix her heart. We’re so excited to adventure with you guys again, as long as no ‘Chosen Three’ or ‘elder brain’ gets involved again,” Wyll says, wrapping his arm around Karlach’s waist. I smile, wishing I could jump up and down in ecstasy from this news, though I’m dead set on the idea that I’ll vomit everywhere. I already feel a knot curl up within my stomach.

“Karlach! That’s…amazing news. Can I hug you?” I ask her, trying to maintain my excitement.

“Of course, soldier!” I hug Karlach, feeling her strong arms embrace me in return for over a minute. No flames are rising from her body anymore, nor does she even feel hot. She’s considered my best friend and I’m more than thrilled that she’s going to be okay outside of Avernus, but more relieved she no longer has to suffer. I am more than thankful we saved her life in time when she was about to explode from her old engine. I can’t imagine missing Karlach and begging for her to be alive.

“I have arrived! Oh, it’s so good to see everyone again. Well, most of you. I imagine we’ll bump into Astarion on the road, should he be able to find us in the darkness,” Shadowheart says. I hug her as well, and she immediately begins to feel the heat of my skin from the fever. “You really aren’t feeling great, are you? You are burning up. Let’s leave as quickly as possible.”

“I have dealt with being poisoned, burned, frozen… I really think I’ll be okay,” I say. Now that I think about it, it’s wild. Everyone is so concerned about me, considering I have dealt with much worse in the past, nearly meeting my death bed on multiple occasions. Then again, we just need confirmation this isn’t the tadpole again at least. Gale takes my hand, holding it gently and rubbing my knuckles with his thumb. Judging by the look on his face, it looks like he is praying to some Goddess or God silently.

“I’ve prayed to Sêlune. I bet it’s just a bug, but let’s go just in case,” Shadowheart responds, giving off a fake smile. “You never know what this could turn into.” Her and I grew very close on our adventures, to the point she’s gotten super protective over me. I was with her when her parents passed. She once told me I am the only person she has left, and ever since those words escaped her lips, I’ve considered her family to me. I can’t imagine how it’s been for her, traveling alone and discovering the world without a companion by her side. I’m sure it gets rather lonely.

“Well, we probably should leave now. The quicker we leave, the better,” I say. “Don’t worry, I set out enough food for Tara to indulge in while we’re gone.”

“Good news on that front, Tara knows how to pluck vegetables from the garden, so she’ll be okay regardless,” Gale says. “Off we go.”

I close the door behind us and we head on the road in Waterdeep that leads to Baldur’s Gate, though it will be awhile before we actually get there. The fresh air outside seems to make me feel more refreshed than before somehow. The beautiful petunias growing on the side of the road, the large yet beautiful pieces of architecture in the city, such as museums and the Academy, and of course the cute little markets where people are making a living… It’s all so pleasing to the eye.

“So, how have you guys been?” I ask Karlach. “I see you and Wyll are together at last! I knew it would happen someday.”

“You are correct! We’re engaged, actually. No set date for the wedding. Wyll proposed to me in Avernus right after slaying the head off of a giant. Nothing more romantic than that.”

“I was going to have it be a traditional engagement, but alas this was before we could fix her engine, so I had to do it in Avernus. I didn’t want to wait,” Wyll says with animation in his voice, almost like how Karlach sounds every time she talks. It actually makes me so happy they ended up together. It’s funny how they were once enemies, threatening to murder one another, and now they’re engaged to be married. They grow up so fast.

“Well, congrats you two!”

“Don’t worry, Emmy. You’re definitely invited to the wedding. You too, Gale and Shadowheart.”

“Thank you, Wyll. That’s appreciated,” Shadowheart says. “Ah, I love weddings. I’m so glad I was able to be the maid of honor at Emmy and Gale’s wedding, it was absolutely stunning. I’d relive that day if I could.”

“Oh trust me, so could I,” Gale says, holding my hand within his as we walk the quiet roads of Waterdeep. It feels nice to catch up with my friends that I haven’t seen since the reunion party five – or maybe six – months ago. It feels much longer than that.

Another sudden wave of severe nausea hits me like a freight train, causing me to stop walking for a moment. This time, it’s gut-wrenching and nearly painful, possibly the worst it’s been in awhile.

“Whoa, is everything alright?” Gale asks, rubbing my back as I’m hunched over. “It’s okay. Do what you need to do.”

“Whatever is causing you to feel this way, I’m going to punch it in the fucking head,” Karlach says. “I would expect this if you came across Cloudkill or something atrocious like that. Have you been around any disgusting spells like that recently?”

“Not at all,” I mumble. “I think it’s a stomach bug, but…much worse.”

“I feel like a failure. I’ve failed you. I’m a wizard who has studied the arcane since I was young, yet I can’t heal or cure you whatsoever,” Gale says, sighing as he continues to rub my back. “I’m so sorry.”

“That’s just the thing,” Shadowheart chimes in. “Magic may not be able to help her at all. At least not this time.” I take a deep breath and close my eyes, trying to fight off the sickness that’s overwhelming my body. So going by Shadowheart's words, magic can only help in certain conditions? I have so much I still need to understand; I should have studied the arcane growing up. However, my natural desire was to help others, cure those in pain, and bring light into the sinister world of darkness. It seems I can’t help myself unfortunately.

“I’ll be okay. I have waves where I feel totally fine, though most of the time I think I’ll throw up. In fact, I have at least six times today.” In Faerȗn, illnesses are surprisingly rare due to the magic and healing spells that cure just about anything. If there is no spell, there’s surely a potion for it. Either way, magic has not been able to cure whatever this atrocity is.

After my insane episode of sickness, I finally feel a little better after about twenty minutes and we continue forward on our adventure. The scent of spearmint in the wild somewhere relieves me, and I feel somewhat normal again – thank the stars.

“So Shadowheart, how have you been?” Gale asks. “I’m sure it’s been a wild ride exploring the depths of every mountain, city, and forest you can possibly imagine.”

“You know, as much as I enjoy it and find new places to discover… It gets lonely. However, I’m faring quite well. But, good news on that front, I found a place in Waterdeep and moved here a couple days ago. I’ll be slowing down on my adventures for a while,” she says, inhaling the forest air. “I’m glad I will be around some familiar faces.” This just made my entire day, knowing Shadowheart lives close to us and I’ll have someone to hang out with while Gale is teaching at the Academy. Finally, adult interaction!

As we all continue to walk the long and familiar dirt path to Baldur’s Gate, I notice glossy splotches of newly shed blood on some large rocks just a few feet away from us, remembering all the lives I took. Granted, they were well deserved, but nonetheless it affects me sometimes. Just because they were warranted doesn’t mean I’m not affected. Someone or something just got murdered here within the last hour or two. I sigh, trying not to focus too hard on the blood splatters around us. After a moment, I began to smile, realizing how many lives we ended up saving and that we were the heroes of Baldur’s Gate. We still are. All of the violence toward the evil beings was worth it, though I do question myself every now and again.

“Are you alright, baby?” Gale asks. His voice is so soft like a lullaby. If only it were a cure for my unfortunate illness.

“Yes, I’m more than alright.” Part of me is so excited to get to the city. Maybe I’ll see some familiar faces, and hopefully I’ll get the answers I’m looking for.

#Baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #astarion #karlach #wyll ravengard #shadowheart #bg3 fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #fanfic #ao3

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eykismyfav · 1 year

Text

The Bird with the Broken Wing

Requested: Yup by @justmasblack

Request: Soooooooo, I need Angst like Deep dark black Angst, I love my captain crying, So how about this, What is lost will be found, But she is what he lost and his key to get out is to find her but he doesn't wanna find her, cause finding her means she would die or be killed, by him????? Who knows😉 I know!

Genre: Angst...But this man has been through a lot so a little bit of fluff because it hurts me to hurt him...

Summary: That day Papa taught you all about how to read maps, figure out your coordinates and how to use more code to tell other ships where you were. When you got home you couldn’t wait to tell Mama what you had learned...but when you told her she just looked at you blankly like she always did. You often wondered if she had ever looked at anyone in another way rather than blankly.

or Eyk has a daughter whose body wasn’t found after the fire so maybe she never really died.

Warnings: Mention of death, fire, swearing, mention of past traumas.

Pairing: Eyk Larsen x daughter!reader

Authors note: Reader is Eyk’s oldest daughter. I’m so so sorry for this...but I'm also kinda not. Comments and likes are always appreciated I want to know what I am doing well and where I can improve. I love hearing your feedback so please don't hesitate!

Italics mean it is a memory

Bold means it is being said in German...I am to lazy to google translate.

Word Count: 1018

Taglist: @maddieluvvvv , @justmasblack , @whizbang-cap

Request Open For Eyk Larsen

1899 Masterlist

Prompt List

You don’t know how you ended up on this ship. You don’t know why you seem to be the only person on the ship and admittedly you are honestly terrified. The ship looked worse for wear but you figured that finding your way to the bridge of the ship would give you a better vantage point to figure out your situation.

After a while you finally find your way to the bridge of the ship you realize just how royally screwed you truly were...you were not docked hell you weren’t even in a harbor you were in the middle of the ocean with no land nor other boats anywhere in sight. Accepting your defeat you sit down in the chair next to some sort of machine.

“Papa, what is that?” Your voice is small as you question your father who is holding you on his hip. Papa had decided to take you with him to the ship that day leaving Mama alone at the house giving her some time to herself.

“That is a telegraph my little dove,” he sits down in the chair moving you to his lap. “It sends messages from our ship to other ships using morse code.” As he explains these things to you you watch him with wide eyes. You loved Papa and you loved spending time with him. It happened rarely seeing as he was always out on the ocean...you didn’t blame him though not like Mama you had the same love of the ocean that he did.

That day Papa taught you all about how to read maps, figure out your coordinates and how to use more code to tell other ships where you were. When you got home you couldn’t wait to tell Mama what you had learned...but when you told her she just looked at you blankly like she always did. You often wondered if she had ever looked at anyone in another way rather than blankly.

You startle out of the memory and look at the machine next to you...it was the same machine from your memory and on your other side was a map which was in pristine condition which was honestly shocking given the state of the ship.

“Shit!” You were ecstatic as long as the machine worked you had everything you needed to send your coordinates to another ship. You could only hope there was a boat to hear the signal.

You spent the next 6 and a half hours tapping the coordinated non stop hoping to get a response from someone...anyone. Finally you stopped when another ship came into view. The name on the side of the ship read Kerberos. You run out of the bridge on to the deck out of pure joy there were people there. They could help you! They were there to help you...right.

It took another two hours for them to lower a lifeboat and start to row over to the boat you were on. During this time you took the time to explore the ship it couldn’t hurt trying to figure out what you were doing on this boat in the first place. As you were wondering a piece of fabric on the ground catches your eye it was Nina’s hair ribbon what was it doing here...where was Nina and Mama? You bend down and pick up the ribbon.

“Y/N! Help me please!” Nina’s voices calls to you.

“Nina!” You run towards her voice and suddenly you find yourself in the woods that surrounded your family home.

“Mama please no!” Your baby sisters plead with your mother as you throw your body against the door to your home.

“Open the door Mama! Please...” You beg as you continue to bang on the door. All you can hear after that is blood curdling screams and the door handle gets hot. “No...no...this isn’t real...” You repeat this to yourself as you slowly back away from the door. “I want to wake up now please let me wake up...” You suddenly see a figure in the woods running over to you...

“Papa?” You cry out reaching for the man like he was your life line to escape this horrible nightmare.

“Little Dove is that you?” It was him and he was real around him the background of the woods disappears and the interior of the ship reappeared. That was all you needed to see before you ran to him glad that he had found you. Once you were close enough he engulfed you into his arms. “Dove what are you doing her? How are you here you died? Your mother...the fire.” He mumbled into your hairline you could feel wetness on the top of your head

“Papa what are you talking about...that was just a nightmare...” You cut yourself off as you look down at your hand it had burn scars on it the door handle had been hot...it was real. “Oh god! Mama, Nina and...no Papa...” You once again latch onto your father like he is a buoy on the water anchoring you to here and now.

“I’m sorry my little Dove...I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” He whispers to you as he pulls away to look you in the eyes. He cups your face in his larger hand as tears fill his eyes.

“It’s okay Papa. You saved me this time.” You give him a sad smile holding his face in your smaller hands whipping away his tears. “You got my message! You taught me how to send it remember.” He nods smiling fondly at the memory.

“Eyk! Eyk where did you go!” A woman's voice calls from somewhere else in the ship.

“Maura! I found a survivor!” He called back looking over his shoulder to where his crew rounded the corner.

“Eyk...” Maura looked at him confused “There is no one there...”

“What yes there is...” but as he turned back you were gone the only thing remaining was a folded paper dove with one of its wings ripped and lightly charred by fire in his hand.

#1899 Eyk #1899 #eyk larsen #Captain Eyk #Eyk Larsen x reader #eyk larsen x daughter!reader #captain eyk x reader

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theweasleysredhair · 4 years

Text

In Safe Hands [G.W.]

Character: George Weasley

Word Count: 4339

Requested?: Yes/No

Summary: George is just very attractive and his hands are even more attractive.

WARNING: this is NSFW, 18+, smutty, sexy times, idk how else to say it. including oral (female receiving). also a lot of mentions of hands, arms and veins bc i canny control myself apparently.

Tags: @gracemayhateyou @acciotwinz @rexorangecouny @mischi3f-manag3d @obsessedwithrandomthings @whizbangs-78 @heart-of-tempered-steel @harrysweasleys @ickle-ronniekins @wand3ringr0s3 @theweirdsideofstuff | message or send an ask to be added to my smut taglist - you must be 18+!

Disclaimer: Gif isn't mine, credit to whoever made it

A/n: i put two requests for my event together as i decided to write a full fic based on george’s hands purely because prompt 9, which both requesters selected, refers to hands - enjoy!!

Prompts used:

3. “I may or may not have left some... marks.”

9. “God I love your hands.” “Let’s put them to good use then.”

23. “Didn’t know you wanted to get into my pants that badly.”

49. “Behave.”

~*~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK! REBLOGS ARE ABSOLUTELY FINE! <3

+ + + + +

You’d always liked George - why wouldn’t you? He was funny, charming, handsome. You’d be stupid not to. It had started back in Hogwarts - you were friends with the twins; close friends. And that’s all you thought of them as, until one fateful day in your 7th year where you made the regrettable decision to meet the twins after one of their last games of Quidditch before Umbridge had banned them, and George had emerged from the Gryffindor tent freshly showered, shirt hanging over his shoulder, trousers low on his hips.

And that’s when you’d realised you liked George as much more than just friends.

You hadn’t known how to deal with him at first, how to act around him, once you’d realised how you felt. Because every time he laughed, every time he ran a hand through his hair, you felt yourself positively swooning, as cliché as it sounded.

It took a lot not to accidentally blurt out your feelings to him, not that you were helped by Fred, who noticed the slight differences in your behaviour - holding onto hugs from George a tad longer, the way you looked at him when he didn’t realise, how flustered you got when he’d rest a hand on your knee - and made it his mission to make your feelings as obvious as possible in front of his brother.

George must’ve been the most oblivious person however, as he never noticed the hints or the longing smiles. Or maybe that was because he was busy trying to stop Fred from making his own crush on you so obvious, trying to hide his own longing smiles, and the way his eyes lit up when he made you laugh.

The twins had left Hogwarts soon after you’d realised your feelings, in a fit of fireworks, and then suddenly you were dealing with Umbridge alone, with her detentions alone. Not that you blamed them for leaving at all - you knew they were out living their dream and all you could wish to do was support them. It didn’t make being at Hogwarts any easier though, dealing with all the Educational Decrees. However, you thought the space and distance would help you to get over George, and it did.

Until you saw him again in his shop. The twins had sent you a letter in the middle of your NEWTs asking you to come and work for them, an offer that you gladly accepted, however arriving at their store on your first day - after the initial overwhelming feeling of pride at seeing how well their store was doing, how successful they were - you knew you weren’t at all over him.

He stood there, a smirk etched on his face, suit fitted to him as he crossed his arms over his chest, standing on the stairs in the shop as he looked down at you, and your felt your heart racing, cursing yourself over still being so hung up on the man.

His eyes slowly took in your appearance - you’d worn a cute sundress, due to the warm weather, your hair falling loosely around your shoulders and George felt his own heartbeat quicken.

He’d fancied you since his 6th year, most likely before that, the realisation hitting him when he had seen you dancing with some prat from Ravenclaw at the Yule Ball, when you should have gone with him. After that, after seeing how utterly stunning you’d looked that day, with your ballgown and hair done, he knew he’d never be able to look at you the same.

And even now, after not seeing you for months, you didn’t fail to leave him speechless, so effortlessly beautiful in his eyes that he couldn’t help but look at you as though you’d hung all the stars in the sky.

“Long time no see, eh love?” He spoke, moving down the last couple of steps and towards you, “Still gorgeous as ever.”

You grinned at him, “Always the charmer, eh Weasley?”

He chuckled, opening his arms to wrap them around you to bring you into a warm hug, one you gladly accepted as you wrapped your own arms around his waist, taking a deep breath as the familiar scent of his cologne enveloped you, making you grin. He rested his chin on your head and closed his eyes, smiling as he felt you nuzzle into his chest.

Merlin, he thought being away from you had lessened his feelings for you but in that moment, with you in his arms, he was struck with the same realisation he’d had in his 6th year - that he was in love with you.

And, unbeknownst to him, as your grip around him tightened a little, the hug lasting a tad too long to be friendly, however neither of you mentioning anything about it, you’d come to the same realisation.

Which brought you to now.

Being around George again was amazing, you had to admit. And whilst you hated the way you kept fumbling with products, or how clumsy you’d get around him - something Fred still loved to tease you about - you also adored how he made you feel, how happy, how content - he made your life that much better, a light in an ever increasing darkening world.

You’d been working with the twins for a few months, and it was amazing, truly a better job than you could have predicted. What made the job difficult, however, was trying to keep cool when George walked around looking like he did, interacting with the guests, making the children laugh at his jokes.

Godric, could he get any more attractive?

He’d seemed to up the ante this week, almost on purpose you swore, constantly walking around in just his shirt and tie due to the summer heat, the lack of a jacket meaning you were faced with doing your job and working with customers whilst also trying not to stare at the way his shirt fit snugly around him, or how his forearms were showcased due to him rolling his sleeve to his elbows, veins appearing any time he tended his arms, whether that be due to moving things around the shop, demonstrating how certain products worked, or lifting and moving heavy equipment.

The latter of which currently occurring, as Fred had left George alone to deal with a delivery after the shop had shut.

You were stood at the Pygmy Puff display, moving cages around and making sure they were well looked after when you heard some grunts coming from the store room, as if someone had picked up something with a lot of weight. You then heard footsteps behind you, making you pause with the last - feisty - Pygmy Puff in your hand, the rest having been put into their cages.

You turned around, breath hitching in your throat as you took in the sight before you. Namely, George Weasley holding what appeared to be quite a heavy box, if his staggered breathing was anything to go by. He’d shed his jacket somewhere in the back, along with his waistcoat, leaving him in just his shirt, which was tightly fitted and, you noticed as he placed the box down on top of another cardboard box, stuck to him a little with sweat from the heavy lifting. His sleeves were rolled to his elbows, showcasing his forearms, and you found yourself gulping as your eyes wandered down the prominent veins, to his large hands, one of which was pulled through his messy ginger hair, pushing the strands out of his face.

And he had no idea.

He had no idea at all that suddenly you couldn’t focus, that suddenly all the breath had left your lungs, that suddenly all you could think about was how his hands would feel on you, holding your waist, gripping your hips, squeezing your thighs. How his fingers would feel inside of you.

George looked over at you and shot you a grin, one that made your heart race even more than it already was, “Bloody big delivery today, eh? ‘S what happens when I let Fred order the ingredients.”

You gave him an almost starstruck smile, which he accepted gladly, before reaching up and undoing the top two buttons of his shirt, pulling at his tie to loosen it, your jaw dropping almost comically as you secretly watched him.

He noticed halfway through his action that you’d gotten extremely silent, your mouth open ever so slightly and George wondered if it was because of him. Merlin he hoped so, because if you wanted him as much as he wanted you, well, he’d be happy to take you right there and then against the till counter.

He turned away to disappear back into the stockroom, biting his lip as indecent thoughts filled his mind, heading to grab the next couple of boxes.

Back on the shop floor, you took a deep breath, rubbing your eyes and cursing yourself. You should not be stood ogling your best friend, much less your best friend who was also your boss, no matter how attractive he happened to be. You should be going through the boxes to separate ingredients out, helping with the displays and doing your job.

But no, instead you were stood, still holding the Pygmy Puff that was now trying to escape your hands, imagining all the things you wanted that man to do to you. And what you wanted to do to him.

Merlin.

You popped the Pygmy Puff into the cage, and wandered over to the box that George had just brought in, trying to push the thoughts of how you could see the outline of his abs through his shirt away as you began pulling out different ingredients.

He came back around the corner, holding two boxes this time, the top one covering most of his face due to the size, allowing you to stare longingly at the way his fingers were wrapped around the edges of the boxes, gripping tightly. You bit your lip as he turned from you to place the boxes down, watching as the shirt moved closely against his back, accentuating his shoulder blades as he bent down and Merlin did you wish you could see his muscles without the shirt.

“Need any help?” You managed to stutter out, trying to act as if you hadn’t been staring at him. Still bending over as he sorted out the boxes, he paused his actions and looked up at you, shooting you a cheeky grin. “Don’t you worry at all, love, I’ve got it, I am extremely strong after all,” he winked, and Godric, didn’t you know it, “You just stand there looking your best, that’s all the motivation I need.”

And suddenly you’d forgotten how to speak, how to breathe. You just nodded, though he didn’t see as his attention was back on the box in front of him. You watched him sift through the products, fingers moving nimbly, occasionally bringing out the odd jar or packet, sometimes throwing it in the air and catching it before placing it to one side.

He brought out a smaller box of vials, which he held from the top, placing it in front of you and gripping it tighter to emphasise his hands when he saw your gaze lingering.

He smiled to himself, pushing his sleeves up - making you swallow harshly - as he pretended not to know you were watching him, all the while flexing just for your benefit.

You couldn’t help the way your eyes kept drifting over to him, couldn’t help that watching him be so efficient with flipping glass jars in the air and holding different ingredients made you that much more attracted to him. You couldn’t help your thoughts racing, thinking about asking him to use his hands on you and-

“Godric, I love your hands.”

Your eyes widened in shock as his head turned to you, your own hand covering your mouth as you realised what you’d just said, and you began stammering out, “I-I... I didn’t mean- I- George-“

George gave a pretend look of shock, as if he hadn’t purposely been working you up for the last however-long. “You like my hands?” He asked with a smirk, glancing down at them before his gaze fell back on you, taking in the sight of you being so flustered. You got lost in the way his eyes held yours, and you could do nothing but nod slowly, making George bite his lip and step forward.

His heart was racing at your confession, not quite believing it was happening but very much wanting to do something with that information, “If you like them so much, let’s put them to good use.”

“W-what?”

George looked you up and down, his tongue darting out to wetten his bottom lip, “You like my hands, and I wanna use them on you, darling. You going to let me?”

You took in the way he was looking at you - like all his dreams had come true, like you were the only thing he cared about, like he loved you. “Absolutely,” you breathed out.

And suddenly his hands were on your waist, bringing you closer to him as he brushed his lips against yours, savouring the first few moments of you being so close to him, before kissing you properly. His lips were soft, moving against yours in a way that, had you not have known any different, you may have thought he’d been kissing you for years. It felt familiar, yet with an added layer of something new. A kiss that made your skin feel like it was on fire, that, as he angled his head to deepen it, made your stomach flutter, and mind race.

It was so perfect, even with the occasional bump of your noses - so perfectly George - that you didn’t want it to end. He pulled away a little, pressing more kisses to your lips before he began moving down to your neck, pressing open mouthed, hot kisses to your skin, making you let out small, breathy moans, feeling him smile against you.

You ran your hands down his chest, playing gently with the buttons and pulling his tie completely off, and heading towards his belt as he licked the skin just below your ear.

Beginning to unbuckle his belt, you also “accidentally” brushed against the evident tent in his pants, and he pulled away from you to grin, “Didn’t know you wanted to get into my pants that badly, love.”

You rolled your eyes playfully and bit your lip at him, making his heart beat a little faster, “Your fault for bringing that delivery in so attractively.”

You’d managed to unbuckle his belt and pulled him back in for a kiss, him mumbling against your lips, “Might get Fred to order stock more often then if this is what happens.”

He led you over to the stairs, stumbling a little up the bottom two steps before trapping you against the banister for a moment, holding you close to him as he continued to kiss you, his tongue easily gliding into your mouth.

Between kisses, and George pulling your shirt off, you made it to the apartment above the shop, heading down the hallway and bumping into the cabinet that was stood between the bathroom and Fred’s room, before arriving at his bedroom door, which he nudged open with his feet, bringing you inside.

He held you by the waist, fingertips tightening a little as he pulled away from the kiss for air, and to lift you up so he could throw you onto the bed, the impact making your breasts bounce and George breathed out a, “Fuck, c’mere.”

He crawled on top of you, your back arching into the mattress as your arms looped around his neck, playing with the tufts of ginger hair at the base of his neck as you brought him back in for another kiss. Your hands moved down to begin unbuttoning his shirt, something you’d been imagining all day, before throwing it to the other side of the room, George doing the same with your bra.

A few moments later, you’d both shed the rest of your clothes, leaving you bare against him, breasts pressed against his chest, his arms either side of your head, supporting his weight above you. You could feel his breath hitting your hitting your lips, his face centimetres from yours.

In stark contrast to the compromising position you were in, George looked down at you with love, a look that warmed your heart as you gave him a small, almost shy, smile.

“You know I- uh- I love you, right? I’m in love with you, darling.” He looked almost vulnerable as he said that, his eyes flickering across your face as his lips parted a little.

You lifted your head up so your forehead rested against his, hands clutching his shoulders, “I’m in love with you too, Georgie.”

“Me or my hands?” He joked, making you shake your head and laugh. You pretended to think for a moment before replying, “Maybe both.”

“Let’s see if I can make you come from just my hands then, shall we?” He grinned, making your heart race as his fingers danced down your stomach before pressing against your clit.

“So wet for me,” He commented, circling it slowly, smirking at the way you let out little breathy moans, before he entered a finger into you, taking advantage of the way your back arched in order to take one of your nipples into his mouth. He sucked on it, gently nibbling as he pushed his finger in and out of you, before adding a second finger, stretching you out a little.

“George,” you breathed out as he moved to your other breast.

He continued moving his fingers against you, in you, and you felt the familiar feeling of pleasure building in your stomach.

After being so wound up from watching him, you knew it wouldn’t take much more to reach your high, and as he continued to kiss your breasts, you breathed out slowly, almost embarrassed at how quickly he’d managed to turn you into a pile of mush at his touch.

“I’m close,” you whimpered, as George moved from your breasts to your collarbone, his thumb adding a little more pressure to your clit as his fingers moved.

Picking up his pace ever-so-slightly, he brought you closer to your high. He felt you clench around his fingers and pressed a kiss to your jawline. “Come for me princess,” he whispered against your ear in a low tone, making you shiver.

George watched the way you closed your eyes, mouth open and head tilted back as your high washed over you, pleasure running through you, and felt himself harden at the sight.

His fingers continued moving against you, although at a slower pace, and your hips jolted towards him at the overstimulation, “‘S a good girl.” He leant forward, pressing his body against yours as he kissed you gently.

“Think you can come for me again, love?”

You were breathing heavily from your first orgasm, though with the way his fingers were moving against you, you knew you’d be reaching your second before you could properly catch your breath. You nodded at him before he began trailing back down your stomach and settled himself between your legs.

You shivered as he lightly pressed kisses on the soft skin of your inner thigh, his hands squeezing your hips, before he licked into you, making you gasp out and clutch the bedsheets tightly. Letting out a moan as he pushed a finger back into you, you closed your eyes, head falling back against the headboard as you breathed out heavily from the way his tongue was moving against you.

You bucked your hips against him involuntarily, causing his free hand to push your hips back down and he looked up from between your legs, his eyes catching yours as he smirked against you, “Behave, darling.” You moaned as the vibrations of just those two words travelled through you, the hand not enclosed around his heading towards his messy hair and running through it, pulling at strands as you felt his tongue flatten against you.

Feeling your second orgasm creeping up on you, you wrapped your legs around his head and let out a moan as you felt George groan against you. Your second high felt more intense than the first, and the feel of George’s tongue pushing inside you made you moan out loudly, the feeling taking over you before you relaxed against him, legs falling onto his shoulders.

“You look so pretty when you come,” he grinned, moving back to hover over you. He pressed himself against you, rocking his hips against yours, arm muscles tensing as he held himself up over you.

You whined a little at the feel of him moving against your sensitive clit, making him smile.

“You ready for me, princess?”

You wrapped one hand around the back of his neck, the other reaching for his hand to intertwine your fingers together, “Always, Georgie.”

At your go-ahead, he pressed a kiss to your lips and eased himself into you, making you both moan out. “You feel so good wrapped around me, love,” he praised as he pulled out of you before pushing back in again, “Taking me so well.”

He moved against you, skin brushing against skin, his spare hand moving to touch any place he could, running his fingers down the curves of your body, before biting his lip as he pulled his hand from yours to grab your wrist, taking your other one from around his neck and holding them above your head, making you whimper as his arms flexed.

“Do you like what my hands can do to you, love? How I made you come from nothing but my fingers?” He groaned against you, feeling himself edging towards his own high.

“Yes... yes!” You breathed out, your eyes closing as you felt your high arriving fast, “George you feel so good.”

George groaned again, feeling you clenching around his cock in the same way you did around his fingers. He leant forward to kiss you, still holding your arms above your head and suddenly pleasure coursed through your body, and you sighed against his lips, him twitching and coming inside of you soon after with a deep growl.

He fell against your shoulder, pulling himself out of you before laying beside you, letting go of your wrists as you instinctively curled towards him.

George’s eyes wandered over to you, a smile small playing at his lips, taking in the way your hair was falling across his pillow, your eyes shut as you breathed heavily, eyelashes fanning across your cheeks, your hand resting on one of his biceps.

His gaze travelled across your neck and down to your collarbones, then across your breasts, a smug smile gracing his face. You opened your own eyes, catching his shit-eating grin and raised an eyebrow at him wearily, “What’s that look for?”

“I may or may not have left some... marks,” he replied cheekily, biting his lip, pupils blown wide as he took in the sight of you marked by him, pressed up next to him.

Your jaw dropped a little and you shook your head with a laugh, “Oh bloody hell, Georgie!” You stood up quickly and headed to the mirror across the room to check, fighting the urge to both laugh and smack him when you saw the red and purple marks littering your skin.

George sat back on the bed, eyes raking over your body, enjoying the sight of your bare bum and back, and found himself biting his lip and imagining all the things he wanted to do to you that night. His eyes lingered on the curve of your bum and he fought the urge to grab you again and pull you down onto him.

“I like them on you, they look hot,” George said with a grin, and you playfully glared at him in the mirror.

“You would think that.” Turning back around to him, you just missed the way his gaze flickered to the marks on your breasts and up to your neck, George feeling extremely proud of himself and his work.

“Yeah, it just shows people you’re mine I guess,” he shrugged unapologetically and gave you a smug grin, looking you up and down as you walked back over to him.

“Oh I’m yours, am I?” You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest and unintentionally accentuating your breasts to him, making him let out a groan as he reached for you.

“Of course you are.”

He pulled you back down onto him like he’d imagined before, your bare chest against his own, his large hands holding your waist as your nails gently scraped down his arms.

“Fancy a round two?” He asked, one of his hands already beginning to head back towards your clit.

Your eyes closed as you sighed contently as you felt his fingers press against you, enjoying the feel of him, “I could be convinced.”

As you were straddling him, you felt him harden more than he was against you, and you opened your eyes to meet his own, darkened with lust, his fingers still moving against you as his other hand gripped your hip.

“Oh princess, how about I make you come for a fourth time tonight? And then again. And then again. And again after that. Would that convince you?”

You bit your lip, pushing yourself against his hand and grinned at him, “I reckon it would. Or maybe I’ll just ride you instead.”

He picked up the pace of his fingers against you, and you let out a moan from above him as one of your own hands covered his on your hip, making him smile cheekily at you,

“Ride me then, darling, and then I’ll make sure you can’t walk in the morning.”

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley smut #george weasley imagine #george weasley imagines #4.6k follower drabble event #hp #harry potter #all queue have to do is follow the spiders

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lumosandnoxwriting · 3 years

Text

No Returns or Exchanges - Fred Weasley

Title: No Returns or Exchanges Pairing: Fred x Fem!Reader Summary: Fred and Y/N get to start their happily ever after A/N: this is for @mrs-fredweasley. I usually do my requests in the order I receive them, but she asked for some fluff with Fred and the reader getting married and having kids for her birthday, and since she’s my birthday twin I couldn’t resist! Feedback is always welcome and requests are open!

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“There you are, Mrs. Weasley,” Fred greets as he sneaks up behind Y/N and wraps his arms around her waist.

“I’m not Mrs. Weasley quite yet, Freddie,” Y/N teases as she turns around in his embrace. Her arms wind around Fred’s neck and she pulls him in for a brief kiss. “You’re about twelve hours too early.”

Fred starts to slowly sway them back and forth, humming quietly to the music drifting through the air from the large tent behind them. Fred and Y/N aren’t getting married until tomorrow, but Ginny, Y/N’s maid of honor, insisted on mixing some muggle wedding traditions in alongside the regular wizard ones. Tonight, had been what Ginny referred to as the rehearsal dinner, where the wedding party and their close family went through the ceremony that will take place tomorrow, before having a mini celebration together.

“Do I really have to go home without you?” Fred pouts. Another muggle tradition Ginny insisted on was that Y/N and Fred would not be allowed to see each other until Y/N was heading down the aisle towards him.

Y/N giggles and kisses Fred’s pout away. “I think it’ll be romantic. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, isn’t that what they say?” Y/N rolls her eyes playfully when Fred frowns at her. “Oh, come on, Freddie. It’s only one night apart.”

“When’s the last time we spent more than 1 hour apart outside of work?” Fred ask, looking down at Y/N expectantly. When she doesn’t answer he smiles. “Exactly. One night is going to feel like an eternity.”

“Okay so maybe it’ll be a bit hard,” Y/N concedes. “But after tomorrow we’ll get to spend every day for the rest of eternity together, that’s gotta be worth it, isn’t it? And have you forgotten that we’ll be spending the next two weeks completely alone together in a cabin in the woods.”

“How can I forget about that?” Fred muses. “Just me, you, and as little clothing as possible for two weeks straight. That’s the only kind of honeymoon I want.” Most of their friends and family were surprised that Fred and Y/N didn’t want to go on some adventurous honeymoon but wanted to just relax together in some secluded forest. But for them that seemed like the only option. It’s only been 13 months since the war ended, and after Fred’s near-death experience he and Y/N decided to take life slow for a bit.

“So that’s why you wanted to go somewhere secluded,” Y/N says, realization washing over her.

Fred laughs. “I may have had ulterior motives when I convinced you to book the cabin in the woods over the beach house.”

Y/N shakes her head fondly. “You’re a bit of a menace, you know that?”

“Yeah but I’m your menace. And you’re way past the return or exchange date so you’re stuck with me,” he jokes, leaning down to press a kiss to Y/N’s forehead.

“Oi, lover boy!” George calls from behind them. Y/N and Fred break apart so they can look at him. “Ginny says it’s time to go, and she’s already wacked me over the head once so get your arse over here before she does it again.”

“See you tomorrow?” Fred asks as he leans down to kiss Y/N briefly.

“Meet you at the altar,” she confirms with a smile.

“You sure you wanna marry my brother?” Ginny teases as they get ready to walk down the aisle. “Because I could cause a distraction if you wanna slip out the front door and run away.”

Y/N rolls her eyes and grabs the bouquet Ginny hands her. “Ha, ha. Very funny, Gin.”

Ginny beams at her before taking her place in line. Y/N takes a deep breath as the music starts, silently regretting that she chose to not have her dad walk her down the aisle. A few months ago, she had bashed the archaic notion of someone giving her away to Fred as if she were a piece of property, but as nerves start to bubble in her stomach she wishes she had someone by her side to calm her down. Everyone in front of her starts to slowly head towards the alter, and she fixes her dress one last time before she follows behind Ginny.

“Holy shit, Y/N,” Fred whispers as she takes his hands at the altar. There are tears in his eyes, and a few leak down his cheeks. “You’re absolutely stunning.”

Y/N blushes, trying to blink away her own tears as to not ruin her makeup. “You clean up quite nice as well, Freddie.”

Fred smiles down at her, maintaining eye contact as the official from the ministry starts the ceremony. Fred squeezes Y/N’s hands tightly as he talks, only half paying attention to what he’s saying. His thoughts are completely consumed with Y/N and how breathtakingly beautiful she is. The dress she picked out compliments all of her best features, and the veil cascading down her shoulders makes her look like a goddess. Fred has imagined this day over a dozen times since he proposed last year, but everything he thought of pales in comparison to how beautiful Y/N looks right now.

“Can I have the rings?” the officiant asks, pulling Fred’s thoughts fully to the ceremony. George digs around in his pocket for a moment before handing the delicate silver rings to the man. He hands the smaller one to Fred. “Now it’s my understanding that the bride and groom have prepared their own vows?” When Fred and Y/N nod, he smiles and motions for Fred to start.

“Y/N, I’ve been enamored with you since I was 11 years old, when you made your cauldron blow up and covered Snape head to toe in the worst smelling goo I’ve ever encountered – and that’s saying something,” Fred pauses as everyone chuckles, and he starts to slide the ring down Y/N’s finger. “When you agreed to accompany me to Hogsmeade during third year I felt like the luckiest guy in the world and I still do. I was so nervous, I had no idea how I managed to convince the pretties girl in school to go out with me, and all these years later I have no idea how I convinced you to marry me. But like I said last night, there’s no returns or exchanges you’re stuck with me for good now.”

Fred slides the ring down Y/N’s finger until it meets her engagement ring. “You’ve stuck by me through every risk I’ve taken and every dumb idea that’s popped into my mind. You were one of the first people to support my dream of opening the joke shop with George, and you were there to support me every step of the way. Every late-night George and I had planning things out or developing products you were right there with me, usually you were asleep, but it was still nice to have you there. You were always the first person to volunteer to test out a product and you were always there for me to vent to when something didn’t work out. You pushed me to leave school early with George, and once you moved in with us you were always there to snuggle with me after a long day.”

Fred takes a deep breath and brings one of his hands up to wipe away the tears Y/N has started to shed. “You gave up so much of your life to be there for me after I was crushed by that wall. No matter how hard I tried to get you to go back to work or just leave the house in general. You’ve always shown me unconditional love and support, and that’s what I’m promising to show you for the rest of our lives. No matter how crazy or hard or scary life gets, I’ll be there by your side, loving you and helping you through it.”

By the time the officiant is pronouncing them husband and wife, both Fred and Y/N are openly crying, but as they share their first kiss as husband and wife, neither of them really cares.

“Glad to see you’re feeling better,” Fred greets with a smile as Y/N pushes the door to his office open. He pushes away from his desk slightly and pats his lap.

“Me too, I hate throwing up,” Y/N responds, taking a seat on Fred’s lap. She settles in and presses a kiss to his cheek. “How’s work going today, husband?” she asks with a giggle. They’ve been married for just over two months, and it still gives Y/N butterflies every time she refers to Fred as her husband.

Fred rolls his eyes and grabs Y/N’s face so he can press a kiss to her lips. “It’s been quite busy today wife. The restock of the new whizbang line already sold out.” Fred settles his hands on Y/N’s hips and kisses her again. “What about you? What have you been getting up to on your day off?”

“I had breakfast with Ginny and Hermione. Did some shopping,” she says casually pointing towards the bags she dropped near the door. “Nothing too crazy or exciting.”

Fred’s eyes light up at the sight of the bags. “Shopping, hm? Did you happen to pick up a present for your lovely, adorable, adoring husband while you were out?” he asks hopefully.

“Maybe,” Y/N muses with a wink. “You’ll have to wait until after work to find out.” Y/N giggles as Fred frowns and she kisses him one last time before standing up.

“You’re such a tease,” he scolds as Y/N gathers the bags in her hand.

“I know.” She waves at Fred and blows him a kiss before heading back into the joke shop and upstairs to their flat. They’re still living with George for the time being as they save up for a house, and as Y/N places her shopping bags on the bed she starts to wonder if they’ll have to start looking for one sooner rather than later.

Y/N sticks her hand in one of the bags and fumbles around a bit, humming as her hands closes around a rectangular cardboard box. Her hand shakes slightly as she pulls the pregnancy test out and starts to familiarize herself with the instructions. While her and Fred have already come to the conclusion that they both want a house full of children someday, she never imagined that they may be starting their family so soon after their wedding.

“Now or never,” Y/N mutters to herself as she heads towards the bathroom. Y/N thought they had been careful while on their honeymoon, she knows there were a few times they had forgotten to use the contraceptive charm in the heat of the moment, but she figured it would be okay. However, when her period never came she began to suspect that they weren’t in fact okay, and the random nausea spells she’s been having for the past week seemed to only solidify that fact.

After she’s closed and locked the door behind her, Y/N does what she needs to do and sets the pregnancy test on the counter face down. “Who knew three minutes could feel like a lifetime?” she asks to no one as she watches the time go by on her watch. When the three minutes is finally up Y/N’s hand starts to shake again as she reaches for the stick. She shuts her eyes tightly as she flips it over, and after a few deep breaths she finally takes a peek.

Pregnant.

Y/N starts to cry as a whirlwind of emotions flow through her. On one hand she’s so overwhelmingly happy, being a mother is something she’s always wanted and to be doing it with Fred makes her heart burst with joy. But she can’t help but also feel an intense bout of worry flowing through her. She and Fred are only 21, and they haven’t even been married six months yet. Y/N knows that Fred wants to be a dad, but she can’t help but worry that he’ll think this is a bad thing and that it’s far too soon for them to become parents.

“Hey, love. You left one of your bags downstairs,” Fred calls out as he walks through the door.

Y/N furiously wipes away her tears and sticks the pregnancy test in the back pocket of her jeans. She takes a deep breath and opens the bathroom door, jumping slightly when she sees Fred. “You scared me, Freddie. I didn’t hear you come down the hall.”

Fred frowns at her. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling okay?” When Y/N nods he gives her a look. “Were you throwing up again? You’re all pale, love. Are you sure we shouldn’t go see a muggle doctor or a healer or something?”

“I’m fine, love,” Y/N reassures, pushing past Fred. She starts to head down the hall when she feels Fred’s hand brush her ass. “What are you- oh,” she gasps, turning around to face Fred. He’s staring down at the pregnancy test in his hands. “Fred,” Y/N starts, not really sure what to say.

“Is this what I think it is?” Fred murmurs, looking up at Y/N. He grips the test in his hand tightly, tears starting to form in his eyes. “You’re pregnant?”

Y/N nods slowly as she bites her lip. “Yeah, I am.” Fred falls to his knees and brings Y/N close to him, shoving her shirt up a little. He starts to pepper kisses all over her warm skin, laughing as Y/N starts to giggle and squirm. “Fred! Fred stop that tickles!”

Fred presses one final kiss to her stomach before he stands up and kisses Y/N passionately. “I can’t believe you’re pregnant. I can’t believe we’re gonna have a baby.” Fred lets go of Y/N and starts to head towards the door. “I have to go tell George.”

“Freddie, wait,” Y/N calls with a laugh, chasing after him. She closes her hand around his wrist and pulls him back towards her. “You’re not mad? Or upset?”

Fred gives Y/N a look like she’s crazy. “Upset? Mad? Why would I be any of those things? You know I want to be a dad, love. We’ve talked about this before.”

“I dunno,” Y/N shrugs. “We’re young and we haven’t been married for that long. I just thought you wouldn’t think it’s the right time.”

Fred sighs and comes back towards Y/N, wrapping her up in a hug. “Love I don’t care about any of that. So, what we’ve only been married for two months? We’ve been as good as married since we were 18 when you first moved in here.” Fred presses a kiss to her forehead and smiles down at her. “Besides if we’re gonna have enough kids to fill a quidditch team we need to have them young, I can’t be an old man teaching my kids how to fly,” he jokes with a laugh.

“A whole quidditch team?” Y/N asks. When Fred gives her a wink Y/N rolls her eyes. “You’re lucky I love you Fred Weasley.”

“Fred what are you doing?” Y/N murmurs around a yawn. She started to wake up after a warm heavy weight rested on her stomach, and when she finally opened her eyes she saw Fred half hanging off the bed as he laid on his front. He’d pushed her shirt up and his head is hovering over the swell of her stomach while his hand strokes it lightly.

“Talking to the baby,” he responds, as if the answer is obvious.

Y/N shifts so she’s laying on her elbows so that she can look down at him properly. “At 2 am?”

Fred nods, pressing a light kiss to her skin. “I couldn’t sleep. And I read in that muggle book Hermione gave us last week that the baby can hear things now, so I figured I’d try it out.”

Y/N chuckles brings a hand up to rub her stomach. “Well I think the baby likes the sound of your voice, they’ve been moving like crazy.” Early last week Y/N had started to feel the baby move around inside of her. The first time it happened it scared the shit out of her, but now she’s started to miss it when the baby is still.

“Really?” Fred asks, his eyes lighting up. The movements Y/N has been feeling are still far too light for Fred to feel from the outside, but every night he spends hours rubbing her bump to try and feel something.

“Yeah, really. My ribs have become a punching bag.” Y/N smiles as the baby lands a few kicks to her stomach. “Here, gimme your hand.

Fred gives Y/N the hand that isn’t already on her stomach, watching as she places it on the side of her bump. She presses his hand into her skin, and he holds his breath, hoping to feel something. “Holy shit,” he gasps as the skin beneath his hand moves ever so slightly. Fred watches his hand in awe, smiling as it moves lightly with each movement. “That’s so cool.”

Y/N laughs and lets go of Fred’s hand so she can run her hand through his hair. “Innit? Though it does feel kinda weird that it’s like, coming from inside of me. But it’s nice. Like I’m never alone.”

“Hey little one,” Fred coos against Y/N’s skin, pressing down against her stomach as he feels the baby kick him in response. “I’m your Daddy, and I can’t wait to meet you.” Fred presses a kiss to Y/N’s skin and tears form in his eyes when he feels a small movement against his mouth. “I know your Mummy is doing such an amazing job of growing you in there but hurry up and get out of there so I can hold you and play with you and kiss you and cuddle you.” Fred tears his eyes away from Y/N’s bump so he can wink at his wife. “Plus, the sooner you get out of there the sooner Daddy can give you a sibling.”

Y/N scoffs and flicks Fred on the forehead. “Can we finish making this one before you start planning the next?”

“What? There’s no harm in planning ahead,” he teases, crawling up the bed to kiss Y/N sweetly.

“Hi there little bug,” Fred coos, gently rocking his newborn daughter. She’s only a few hours old, and her big eyes are bright as she blinks up at Fred. “I’m your Daddy and I love you so much Miss Ellie belly.” Her actual name is Electra, but Fred has settled on calling her Ellie. Y/N had found her name in a baby book Hermione dropped off, and they both instantly fell in love with it. It means bright one, and after the dark times Fred and Y/N had survived in order to bring her into the world it seemed like the perfect fit.

Fred presses a kiss to her forehead, his heart melting as she makes a little noise. “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he whispers. “Just don’t tell Mummy I said that.”

“Maybe you should check to make sure Mummy is asleep before you start spilling your secrets,” Y/N responds with a laugh.

Fred turns around, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry, love. I figured you’d be a goner after the past few days you’ve had.”

Y/N moves over to make room for Fred and pats the space next to her. “I was only in labor for what 36 hours? That’s nothing,” she says with a laugh.

Fred comes over and sits next to Y/N, cradling Ellie tightly against his chest. “Don’t downplay yourself, love. You’re an absolute superhero.” He begrudgingly passes the baby back to Y/N and wraps an arm around her, his other hand coming up to grab Ellie’s foot through the blanket she’s wrapped up in. “We wouldn’t have our perfect little angel without you.”

Y/N blushes, looking over at Fred. “You helped a little bit. And I did nearly break your hand while I was pushing.”

“Aw, Y/N. You flatter me,” Fred teases. He presses a kiss to her temple and takes a moment to just watch as Y/N cuddles Ellie close. “I didn’t know I could love something this much,” Fred says quietly, crying slightly for the second time that day. The first had been when the doctor placed Ellie in his arms for the first time. “But every time I look at her my heart feels like it’s going to burst from how much love is in it.”

“I know, right? Every time I look at her I feel like crying. She’s just so tiny and perfect and ours.” Y/N leans down and presses a kiss to Ellie’s forehead. “I almost can’t believe that we made her. I don’t know how you and I could make something so beautiful.”

Fred gently grabs Y/N’s chin and turns her head so he can kiss her passionately. “You are the most beautiful woman in the world, so it is no surprise that our daughter is the most beautiful little girl in the world.” Fred kisses Y/N again briefly, before letting go of her chin so he can stroke Ellie’s cheek. “How are you feeling, love? Can I get you anything?”

“I’m alright, Freddie, thank you,” Y/N says softly, looking back down at their daughter. “I actually feel really good. To be honest your Mum scared me a bit, I thought it would be way worse.”

Fred chuckles, melting as Ellie’s eyes flutter closed. “I think Healers have revolutionized childbirth in the twenty years it’s been since she had a baby.” He bites his lip, nudging Y/N so she’ll look at him. “So now that this one’s out, when can we start trying for number 2?”

“Y/N love, I’m home!” Fred calls, stepping out of their fireplace and into the living room. He dusts the ashes from his suit, frowning when his wife doesn’t answer him immediately. But it turns into a smile when he spots his daughter peering at him over top of her play pen.

“Ellie,” he coos, heading over to her. “Look at you, standing up on your own!” he praises, lifting her out and up into the air. He tosses her up gently, laughing as she giggles madly at him. “Where’s your Mummy?” he asks, settling the infant on his hip. He presses a kiss to her forehead, his stomach turning to mush when she cuddles into his chest. “Let’s go find her then, hm?”

Fred starts to explore the house, grinning as Ellie babbles baby nonsense into his skin. He can’t believe how fast the past 8 months have gone, and while he loves watching Ellie grow and learn new things, he misses the baby stage already. “What do you think Mummy’s doing?” he asks, nodding along to her babbles as if she’s actually answering him. “I think she might be hiding to scare Daddy. What do you think?”

After checking their downstairs Fred starts to head up the stairs, his fingers lightly digging into Ellie’s belly to tickle her. She shrieks with laughter, and it sounds like music in Fred’s ears. “Daddy misses you while he’s at work, Miss Ellie belly. I think I should take you with me tomorrow. What do you think? Do you wanna spend the day with Daddy and Uncle George at the joke shop?”

Fred peppers kisses to Ellie’s head as he walks down the hallway. The door to his and Y/N’s room is shut and as he goes to grab the doorknob it swings open and Y/N practically runs into him.

“Oh, Fred,” she gasps, holding something to her chest. “I didn’t hear you come in, love.” Fred eyes her wearily as Y/N leans forward to tickle Ellie’s stomach with her free hand and press kisses to her chubby cheeks. “Is your Daddy home, Miss Ellie? Did Daddy finally come home to see you?” she asks, laughing as Ellie giggles at her.

“What’s in your hand?” Fred asks.

Y/N looks up at him, trying to seem as innocent as possible. “Nothing,” she responds, showing him the hand that was on Ellie’s stomach.

Fred rolls his eyes playfully. “The other one, gorgeous.”

“Oh, um,” Y/N blushes and looks away from Fred as she takes her hand from her chest and opens her palm. A positive pregnancy test is laying in her hand, staring up at Fred.

Fred gasps. “Another one?”

Y/N nods and snuggles into Fred’s chest as he pulls her into a hug with his free hand. “Dunno why you’re so surprised, you’ve been trying to get me pregnant since Ellie was born.”

Fred laughs and leans down to kiss Y/N deeply. “Guess it’s time to start thinking about the next one then,” he teases.

Y/N glares at Fred. “Are you sure it’s not too late to return or exchange you?”

“Sorry love, I burned the receipt long ago,” Fred responds with a laugh, kissing Y/N again.

#fred weasley #Fred Weasley imagine #Fred Weasley fluff #Fred Weasley fanfiction #Fred Weasley fic #Fred Weasley x reader #Fred Weasley x y/n #fw #golden

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redwinterroses · 3 years

Note

Had an idea for a fic I’m never going to write. So Empires SMP has a bad ending for the rulers, and Gem and Pearl decide to move on without their memories and end up in Hermitcraft. They’re at peace but weighed down by something they don’t know. And then Gem sees Fwip. Maximum angst potential of either her remembering everything right then or remembering nothing and Fwip trying to convince her they know each other. “Do I know you?”’s are always heartbreaking

You did this to me. XD

Disclaimers: I don't know how to write fWhip yet, so he's prolly at least a little OCC. Also, we're gonna pretend that timelines are ours to do as we please with, and say that Empires has ended several months prior to MCC17. Just. Because. Wibbly-wobbly.

Anyway here, have some Whizbang sibs content. :D

____________________

Sometimes it was little things. Sometimes the little things didn’t feel so… little.

Like when Gem held the Tegg in her hands, the void-dark shell rough and cold under her fingers, and was unsettled by how… lifeless it felt. It would hatch if put in the right circumstances, she knew, the egg wasn’t dead. But something in her heart quickened with undefined panic at the idea that it might not hatch, and something else… mourned? That she couldn’t feel the life inside?

She shook her head and set the egg down with hands that only trembled a little.

She knew why these phantom feelings were chasing her heart, she just didn’t know what lay underneath that foggy surface of hidden memories.

And she didn’t want to.

They’d agreed.

So she hid the Tegg, and she laughed when it was found, and the idea that there ought to be anything more to a dragon’s egg slowly faded into the back of her mind, gathering dust on the shelves of other forgotten things.

Sometimes it was the big things. Things that shouldn’t have seemed so inconsequential.

Like when she fell while mining and died with her items scattered across the bottom of a ravine, and she woke with a gasp in her own bed.

And when it happened again, on a day when she missed seeing a creeper until too late. And again, falling from the top of her build. And death just… didn’t matter much. Or enough. Or at all. It felt like it should matter, somehow — she knew it didn’t, she knew respawn was waiting, she knew there were no real consequences in this world for death.

And yet on some level each respawn felt like a failure. Her bones ached with the sense that she’d missed something, some detail that would have saved them all—

But they didn’t need saving. The hermits were fine. It was fine. This wasn’t a defeat, or a loss, or a reason for an ally to potentially lose something as well, or for an enemy to claim victory over you. There were no enemies here. No allies, either, really. They were all friends.

It was fine.

And with each respawn, it hurt a little less, and felt a little bit more like freedom.

~*~

The MCC lobby was brilliantly-colored and smelled of junk food, hot concrete, and salty wind from the sea that swirled somewhere miles below them. fWhip took in a deep breath and his face split into a grin — a grin that had been a little… lacking, recently. He’d done a lot to distance himself from the darkness they’d fled, but…

Well. A day playing insane games with friends and strangers alike would be just the thing. A much-needed break.

He paced back and forth just inside the main gates, watching the other competitors bounce around and shout back and forth — insults, greetings, questions, challenges — it was a cacophony of noise and color, and its sandpaper-rough edges of chaos smoothed away another layer of the angry burrs in his mind.

He caught a glimpse of something bright green through the crowd, and stood on tiptoe to see — yes! Another one of his teammates, finally heading over to their agreed meeting point. He lost them in the crowd for a moment, but then saw the ginger hair (so much like his own) and a smiling face beneath small, dainty antlers.

Gem.

He didn’t expect the dagger of pain that went through him at the sight of her face, nor that the way her eyes lit up when she spotted him would sooth away some of that same pain.

“Gem!” he shouted. “Hey — over here!”

She waved, and dodged a gaggle of cyan- and red-clad players shoving each other goodnaturedly across the courtyard.

“Hey, fWhip!” she called as she neared him. She looked… happy, he thought. He didn’t see the shadows under her eyes that he’d expected, and she was freckled and tanned instead of the pale, cloaked figure he remembered.

“Hermitcraft’s been good to you,” he said, grabbing her in a one-armed shoulder hug.

To his surprise, she tensed a little — as if surprised — before returning the hug.

“Yeah, yeah,” she agreed. “The hermits are great.” Then, stepping back, she tilted her head at him. “So — long time, no see. What’ve you been up to?”

He shrugged, leaning back against the bright-red concrete wall. “Oh. You know. Lots of building, some exploring… been thinkin’ about checking out one of those new snapshots people are talking about.” He examined her. “You, ah… heard from any of the others lately?”

Something like a shadow chased across her face, but Gem gave him a slightly confused smile. “The others?”

“Scott, or Sausage, or Katherine…” There was no comprehension in her expression, and fWhip’s heart constricted. “I mean, you haven’t even messaged me in months.”

“I… I didn’t realize I should have…?” Gem crossed her arms over her chest, rubbing at her upper arm as if she’d gotten a chill. “I mean, we haven’t chatted much since XLife — I was glad to see a familiar face for my first MCC, but it’s not like we’re… ya know. Besties or anything — no offense, of course.”

If she’d tossed him off the edge of the lobby island into the void, it might have shocked him less.

“Gem, I—” he shook his head. “You were my… I was your brother? I know that’s not the same as ‘besties’ but… that kinda hurts, I won’t lie.”

Now she did go pale. And still.

“I…” she stopped, her voice dying away amidst the chaos. “fWhip, I don’t… know what you’re talking about.”

fWhip froze. “You what?” He stepped forward and gripped her by the shoulders. “Gem, are you okay? Did they — did the hermits do something to you?”

“What? No — don’t be ridiculous.” She tugged out of his grasp but didn’t move away. “The hermits are amazing and would never do anything to hurt me. Not like—” Gem’s eyes snapped up to lock on his, and she frowned, distressed. “fWhip… what’s going on?”

She’d forgotten. He didn’t know how — repressing the trauma? Magic? Knowing Gem, it was probably the latter… because of the former.

“We — Empires,” he said, fumbling for words. “You and I were allies. Siblings, even. And there was a demon, and the dragon egg—”

Gem grabbed his arm. “The egg!” she exclaimed. “I knew there was something—”

He could see the moment she remembered. And then the moment she chose not to.

“There’s something sad there,” she said, her voice nearly lost in the noise of the crowd. Her gaze flicked back and forth between his eyes, pleading. “Something… lost. And I don’t want to be lost, fWhip.”

He started to argue with her, and then paused.

What good did remembering do any of them? What good had it done him? What was the point of the sleepless nights, wondering what he could have done differently? The nightmares where he relived every mistake and had to watch their failures and defeat over and over again? The fact that he still shied away from shadows, and that the MCC world was the safest he’d felt in months?

“No,” he said slowly, even though it felt like he was letting a piece of himself slip away. He’d missed having a sister. But what were brothers for, if not for things like this? “No, you don’t need to be lost, Gem. If you ever want to come back, I’ll be here but… it’s okay if it’s not today. Or—” he swallowed, but pushed the words out anyway. “Or ever.”

A glint of something that could have been gratitude or could have been a tear glittered in her gaze for just a moment — and then there were other voices, and the boisterous greeting of Jimmy and Quig, and they stepped apart, each plastering a grin on their faces to welcome their teammates.

fWhip couldn’t help but glance at Gem as she greeted Jimmy, but there was no recognition of the Codfather on her face, and Jimmy, he knew, was content to let the past lie. It didn’t take away the sting of loss — or the slight bitterness that tanged in the back of his throat, that Gem could forget and move on, and he… he couldn’t. Not yet.

But she seemed happy. Wasn’t that enough?

It could be. For now. For today.

A voice over the PA system urged them to head into the starting area, and fWhip followed his team up the path, merging with the other players. He almost didn’t notice Gem slipping her hand into his, until she squeezed it gently.

He looked down at her, and she offered him a smile.

“We’ll talk later, maybe?” she said.

It was a start.

“Sure,” he said. “But first, we gotta win this thing. Grab you a win for your first MCC, right?”

Gem laughed. “Sure, wFhip,” she said. “Sure.”

#redwinterwrites #tbh i forgot jimmy was on lime until the last second or i might have given him a bit more screentime #but this was getting long enough as it is #mcc17 #fwhip #geminitay #empires smp

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durmstrange · 4 years

Text

Chocolate Milk - George Weasley

YALL. I had this idea while standing in my kitchen drinking chocolate milk and HAD to write it. This takes place after the war and of course Fred does not die because it never really happened lmao. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: unplanned pregnancy

Word count: 973

With a small huff, after working most of the day in the garden with Molly as Fred, your fiancé George, Harry, and Ron helped their father in his workshop sorting through his muggle artifact and gadgets, you fell into a chair in the kitchen. Molly still ran around like she had unlimited energy, fixing a kettle of tea for you, Ginny, and her to share. “Care for anything else to drink, darling?” Molly asked as she poured Ginny a cup.

“Actually, do you happen to have any chocolate milk? I swear it’s all I’ve been drinking lately,” you laughed quietly, and shook your head at yourself.

Molly froze in her spot, her eyes widening. This made your smile fade as you glanced to Ginny, who was equally confused. “Mum, are you alright?” She asked curiously as she stood, putting her hand on her mother’s arm.

You felt instantly guilting, coming to your feet as well and taking the kettle from Molly. “I’m sorry, did I say something?” You asked worriedly, hoping you didn’t upset your future mother-in-law.

She looked at you, her face growing red and a smile forming on her lips. “You’re pregnant,” she said, rather than asking. Your face grew incredibly red and you stepped back, shaking your head. “When I was pregnant with Fred and George, all I could stomach my whole pregnancy was chocolate milk,” she explained further, only making your face pale more and more. Ginny gasped, clasping her hands over her mouth.

“No, absolutely not. There’s no way,” you began incredibly strong but your face softened as you began thinking. You had thought you were bloated, your stomach was upset constantly in the last month, and as you counted back the days in your head, it dawned on you that is was quite literally a possibility. “Oh, oh, oh, bloody hell!” You felt faint suddenly, gripping the back of the kitchen chair as you struggled to catch your breath.

Ginny grabbed your arms, stabilizing you with wide eyes. “What? What are you thinking?”

Molly came to your other side, leading you into a chair and pushing you to sit. “Dear, are you pregnant?” She asked this time, sitting in the chair next to you and holding your hands in her own comfortingly.

“I think I am,” you whispered. “Good god, I’m going to be a mum!” You whispered-yelled to the three of them as you put your head in your hands, leaning against Molly.

“It’s okay, dear, we will confirm before you start panicking. Besides, there’s nothing to panic about. You and George would be fit parents,” she assured in a calm voice and got to her feet, moving about the house. Ginny assumed her seat, holding your hand and rubbing your back comfortingly.

Ginny leaned her head on your own as you rested it on the table. “She’s right, you know. You and George are the perfect parents, and I’m not just saying that because I would be an amazing aunt,” she smiled against your head as you sniffled gently, feeling like you were going to cry. You weren’t necessarily unhappy to be pregnant, but you had always thought you’d plan it out with George, rather than it being a surprised.

After a quick test, it was confirmed that you were indeed expecting. Tears fell down your face as Molly held you, her own tears soaking into your shirt as she cried happily. “I’m going to be a grandmother! For the first time, oh dear! I never thought George was going to be the one to make me a grandmother,” she rambled as Ginny smiled widely, wrapping her arms around the both of you.

“Me either,” you admitted with a nervous laugh and wiped at your eyes, trying to remain calm. You heard the front door open then, with the boys all talking and laughing loudly, making your face fall blank. “Oh, hell, I’ve got to tell George,” you whispered to the girls, Molly trying to dry her face with her apron and Ginny beaming with pride.

You did the same as Molly, wiping at your face as the boys all entered the kitchen with Arthur leading. “Well, Molly, I'd say we made excellent progress today,” he announced without noticing the girls all looking rather disheveled.

Ron, entering in after his father, tilted his head to the side at his crying mother, beaming sister, and shaking soon to be sister-in-law. “What happened to you lot?” He questioned rather blazingly as Harry, Fred and George entered behind him, looking even more confused.

“What’s wrong, dear?” Arthur asked then, immediately rushing to Molly’s side and wrapping an arm around her as she broke, crying once more and throwing her arms around Arthur.

George looked at the tears in your eyes as you wrung your hands out in front of you. “I’m pregnant,” you announced, making the room fall silent, spare Molly’s happy sobs.

George’s face reddened, and his twin looked between you and him incredulously. “You mean to tell me you two have been having premarital sex?!” He asked ridiculously as George practically sprinted around the table, picking you up in his arms and burying his face in your neck. Ginny broke into a cackle as she joined Harry’s side, wrapping her arms around him excitedly.

“Are you being serious?” He asked urgently when he finally set you down, holding your crying face in your hands. “I’m going to be a father?” You nodded through your tears with a small smile on your lips. “Oh, love, this is wonderful,” he said excitedly as he hugged you once more, the widest smile on his lips that you had ever seen in your fifteen years of knowing him. George kissed you with all he had before releasing you to allow the rest of his family time to love on you.

durmstrange’s Taglist: @starlightweasley @theweasleysredhair @whizbangs-78 @hufflepuffgirly @tonksichu @toomanybandstocare @mentally-in-northern-italy @alwaysasadaesthetic @through-the-little-door @clandestinecherry

Weasley Twins Taglist: @wand3ringr0s3 @kpopgirlbtssvt

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gumnut-logic · 3 years

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Warning: Virgil/Kayo...well, where it all started at least.

-o-o-o-

It was Lug Day.

To most people it would be known as the day supplies arrived at Tracy Island, but to Virgil, it was Lug Day. Because despite having all the automated equipment a whizbang engineer could design, Virgil always found himself lugging equipment from one hangar, store room or part of the house to another.

If it was in the house, Grandma was your director. If it was in the hangars, Virgil definitely had more say, but that didn’t stop one brother or another from launching into their own epic masterpiece of supply drama.

This time it was Scott. Actually, come to think of it, it was often Scott. Their field commander was rather picky about his bird and where he stashed his stuff, and Virgil always seemed to find himself the lackey. A willing lackey, yes, but lackey nonetheless.

“Over here, Virg. Those canisters can sit in that corner, while the boxes belong over in the store room.” Scott had an armful of what looked like giant furry caterpillars. Virgil hadn’t bothered to ask him what exactly he was doing with a hoard of giant furry caterpillars, but it did seem he had been carrying them for an inordinate amount of time.

Virgil lugged, yes, there you go, lugged the first of five canisters of cleaning fluid across the floor of Thunderbird One’s hangar to the appointed corner. It was a cramped space, none of the loaders were able to get in here behind TB1. None of the mechanical ones, anyway.

“Did we get any of the spare hoses?” Scott was looking at him with a frown on his face.

“What spare hoses?”

“For the coolant system.” “Was it on the list?” Virgil knew it wasn’t.

“Yeah.”

“Uh, check again.”

A furry caterpillar ended up on the floor as Scott reached for his tablet. “I could have sworn…”

“Not on the list, not purchased.”

“Damn. I’ll have to make a special trip.”

At that very moment, Kayo walked in carrying a large box, one that looked considerably heavy. Virgil put down the second canister and hurried over to help her. “Hey, there, be careful.”

She peered around the box, smiling at him. “Calm down, Virgil. It’s not that heavy.”

The weight that fell into his arms as he took it from her hands, didn’t agree with her assessment. “I beg to differ.”

He was shot by an arched eyebrow, before Kayo turned to his brother. “These are those hoses you needed, Scott. It was three-quarter inch diameter, wasn’t it?”

Scott blinked. “Uh, yeah.”

Virgil frowned at him as he made his way to the storeroom with the massive and heavy box. How the hell had she lifted this by herself? A thud and they found their resting place beside another box, this one full of filters.

Wandering back into the hangar, he found both his brother and Kayo smiling at him. “What?”

“So, you did remember?” Scott’s eyes were dancing.

Grudgingly. “I may have.”

“Thanks, bro.”

“All part of the service.” Virgil looked over at Kayo. “Were you able to get the holocamera you were looking for?”

“Unfortunately, no. They were out of stock and I had to put it on order.” Only her family would be able to recognise the mild annoyance on her face.

“Did you want me to look at your old one? I might be able to get it to behave.” And if he couldn’t, a spin on the elevator up to John would have a good chance of success.

Scott was looking at him oddly. Virgil frowned. “What?”

Innocent blue eyes. “Nothing.”

“Thank you, Virgil. That is very kind of you.”

“No problem.” He shrugged. “I’ll drop by and pick it up later today.”

She smiled at him and left to return to her stash of lugworthy material.

Scott’s gaze followed her out before once again turning and staring oddly at Virgil.

The engineer frowned at him. “What? Do I have something on my nose?”

“No.” Scott’s lips twisted a little. “I was just wondering if you had something, or should I say, someone, on your mind.”

Virgil stared at him. “I repeat. What?”

“Do you like Kayo?”

“Of course, I like Kayo, she’s my sister. Why wouldn’t I?”

“You do know she isn’t really our sister.”

Now, that got his back up. “What the hell do you mean by that? She grew up with us. She is family, Scott.”

His brother threw up his hands defensively, furry caterpillars scattering everywhere. “Woah, Virg! I didn’t mean it like that.” He lowered his hands and took a step towards Virgil. “I was just wondering if you might see her as…well…more than a sister.”

“More than a sister?”

“Yeah.”

“What exactly are you trying to say, Scott?”

Scott spread his hands now starting to look just a little bit uncomfortable. “Well, I was thinking perhaps you might be seeing her more as a woman.”

Virgil found himself staring at his brother again. “A woman.”

“Yes, Virgil, she is a very attractive woman.”

Blink. “She’s our sister, Scott.”

“Not really.”

Now he was caught between wanting to thwap his brother and the possibility that Kayo was both a woman and not technically his sister.

A stunning and intellectually fascinating woman.

“What on Earth gave you that idea?”

Scott shrugged. “You seemed interested.”

“I offered to fix her holocamera.”

“Rather eagerly.”

“I offered to fix Thunderbird One’s kooky VTOL engine just yesterday. I’m finding you extremely attractive right now.”

A half-lidded glare attempted to shave his eyebrows off. Then Scott threw up his arms. “Hey, just being a big brother here. Just thought you might want to talk about it.”

“There is nothing to talk about.”

“Fine.”

“Good.”

Virgil looked at his hands for a moment, before remembering what it was he had actually been doing before this ridiculous conversation started.

Oh, yeah, lugging.

He kicked a stray furry caterpillar out of his way and wandered back to the discarded canister and yanked it into his arms, stomping it over to its corner before returning for the next one.

What the hell was Scott thinking? He had never thought of Kayo that way. Had he?

Had he?

Kayo chose that very moment to walk across the far end of the hangar carrying yet another box.

He stared as her gliding step, her hips swaying in that cat-like manner she had about her. Perfectly synchronised, as if to her own musical rhythm, her swinging ponytail playing counterpoint.

A blink.

Oooooh, crap.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Virgil Tracy #Scott Tracy #kayo kyrano #virgil/kayo #warm rain #nuttyfic reblog #so began my first ever attempt at romance

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starry-sky-stuff · 2 years

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Heyyy idk if you've watched the show but I was wondering if you could sort the Peaky Blinders characters? PLUS it seems like a great show to use as examples for certain sortings because all of the characters are fully-realized, fleshed out, and complex, rather than flat or simply plot devices. Just saying :)

Spoiler warning

On the face of it, Tommy Shelby appears to be a Loyalist, a Badger who prioritises the wellbeing of the Shelby family over everything, even the wellbeing of the individual Shelby family members. After his betrayal of the others at the end of season 4, he appears to perhaps be a Snake Primary who petrified after Grace’s death and only cares about his son. But Tommy knows no loyalties and never has. He isn’t loyal to the Shelby family or any of it’s members, and certainly doesn’t feel guilty about having them arrested because it’s a part of his plan. Tommy starts off with a Badger and Snake Primary models. Protecting Freddie for Ada’s sake and smuggling Whizbang Charlie out of Birmingham. The Badger model is gone after the early seasons and the Snake model soon follows. Tommy isn’t motivated to gain power for his family, but for the sake of power itself. He could be a Lion, but I think he might be a Bird. An iconoclast, who sneers at Polly’s faith and Freddie’s cause. Nothing's sacred. He even uses his own brother's funeral to draw out his enemies. He enjoys his borderline philosophical debates with Alfie Solomons. But the only cause Tommy Shelby has ever served is power. He tells Grace that everyone’s selling a part of themselves and he truly believes that.

Tommy is a mastermind, a plotter and a schemer. He plans and double-crosses, viewing everything in the long-term. He keeps Michael out of the dirtier side of the family business because he foresees the need to have a legitimate face. He also uses prior experience and skills, such as digging tunnels like he did during the war. Tommy is a cautious schemer, and some of his greatest blunders are when he gives into his Lion Secondary model and acts rashly, such as killing Vicente Changretta without considering the fallout. Tommy models the changeable, manipulative Snake Secondary, charming and deceiving when necessary, but his greatest talents lies in plotting.

Unlike Tommy, Polly Gray is a loyalist. Like him, she starts off with a Badger Primary model, prioritising the safety and wellbeing of the Shelby family. But once she finds her son, the Badger disappears and she’s all Snake. Her main priority is protecting her son, even being willing to betray Tommy and the Shelby family. Secondary-wise, I think she might be a Badger. She’s the one who cares about the proper way of conducting business - votes, family meetings. She detests Tommy’s despotic manner of leading. When she wants to undermine Tommy she organises opposition among the wives.

Arthur and John Shelby are straightforward Lion Secondaries. They’re the muscle, the ones who handle the dirtier, bloodier side of business, and will generally be the first to suggest the use of violence to solve a problem. Both of them a loyalists too. Arthur is a Badger Primary, and his position as the eldest son, and his inability to fulfil the responsibilities that go along with that position, weigh heavily on him. John, a Snake Primary, turns his back on Tommy after his betrayal, choosing his wife and their family instead. Arthur doesn’t walk away from the Shelby family because he can’t.

Ada Shelby’s an interesting case. When she gets together with Freddie, she adopts his cause as her own and continues to espouse it even after his death. But as the season pass she gets less and less attached to the cause, rejoining the family business she’d previously rejected and she never has any real problem taking the family’s money to live well. But she is also distinctively unaffected by Tommy’s betrayal. Even if she was the one member of the Shelby family not arrested if she were a loyalist she would no doubt feel betrayed on behalf of the others. I think she’s a Bird Primary who changes her system throughout the series, influenced first by Freddie and then by Tommy. It would also explain why she understands Tommy in a way the others don’t. In the first season, Ada looks like a Lion Secondary, conducting an illicit affair with Freddie and then running off to marry him. But in the later seasons she’s less reckless and more inclined towards peacekeeping. I think Ada is a Badger Secondary, working quietly to support Tommy.

Michael Gray is a Glory Hound Lion Primary, seeking power and glory. He comes to London not merely to reconnect with Polly but to join the family business, which he views as a way to become a powerful man. His ego, pride and bravado are part of his downfall, as he seeks not only to equal Tommy but to usurp and supplant him. It’s Michael who rejects Polly’s offer to betray Tommy and flee, not out of loyalty but because he doesn’t want to admit defeat. Unlike Tommy, Michael isn’t a planner but nor is he bold and brash like Arthur and John. He’s a Snake, charming, deceitful, and reactive.

Despite her role as an insider, Grace makes for a poor spy. She gives herself away to Polly by not doing the sign of the cross (a Bird undoubtedly would've done their research into the role they were playing) and she falls for Tommy. For Grace, the manipulation became real, something unlikely to occur with a Snake. The fact that she in no way struggles with living a double life counts out Lion, so I think she's a Badger Secondary. Primary-wise, I think she might be a Snake who changes her loyalty to Tommy.

Freddie Thorn is a true Revolutionary, a Double Lion who’s devoted to the cause of communism. When faced with prison he refuses to run, even when to do so would be in the best interests of his wife and child.

Alfie Solomons is a Bird/Snake, who enjoys philosophical debates with Tommy and delights in unnerving others with varying displays of bizarre behaviour.

Esme Shelby is probably a Badger Primary. She convinces John to turn his back on Tommy by arguing that 'we're the family now', rejecting the Shelby family for their own new community. She's a hot-headed, outspoken and straightforward Lion Secondary, unafraid of confrontation.

Tommy Shelby: Bird, Badger Primary model, Snake Primary model/Bird, Snake Secondary model, Lion Secondary model,

Polly Gray: Snake, Badger Primary model/Badger

Arthur Shelby: Badger/Lion

John Shelby: Snake/Lion

Ada Shelby: Bird/Badger, Lion Secondary model

Michael Gray: Lion/Snake

Grace Shelby: Snake/Badger

Freddie Thorn: Lion/Lion

Alfie Solomons: Bird/Snake

Esme Shelby: Badger/Lion

#sortinghatchats #sorting hat chats #peaky blinders #I think it's interesting that ada and michael are the least affected by tommy's betrayal #and they're both idealists

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thoseofgreatambition · 4 years

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duet | {im}mature

description: you were supposed to be fred’s best friend. but you sure weren’t acting like it.

a/n: this broke my heart to write, but i think a bit from fred’s perspective would be wonderful. again this is the wonderful wonderful story i am writing with @ickle-ronniekins and you have to follow her, i honestly owe so much to her because this is something i’ve always wanted to do and haven’t had the chance yet.

DUET MASTERLIST

warnings: swearing, blood

wordcount: 5K

taglist: @highly-acidic @feffffffy @sweetpeastrigger @stuckindilemma @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @darling-details @laneygthememequeen @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @waschbiber @dreamer821 @feffffffy @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am @wtfweasleyy @obsessedwithrandomthings @sleep-i-ness @shadowsinger11 @harrysweasleys @shadychaoticcollection @haphazardhufflepuff @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @hood-and-horan @geeksareunique @insearchofnewdreams @notstandingstill-imlyinginwait @lumos-barnes @thatfuckingliardavidtennant @slytherinqween @xinyourdreamsx @skiving-snackboxess @wildfire-whizbangs @dwarfwizard-from-panem @diary-of-an-onliner @answer-the-sirens @woakiees @black-widow-fangirl @theheirofnightandday @summerstardust @whysoseriouspadfoot @chocok22 @myhopesareanchoredinyou @siriusblackisme @illusivedaydreamer @zeeneee @writingwitchly @wolfpotter12 @obsessedwithrandomthings @carolinesbookworld @shadowsinger11 @pit-and-the-pen @summer-writes @peachesandpinks @gweaslvy @alpinewinchester @letsfightsomeorcs @theweasleysredhair @purpleskiesstorm @hxfflxpxffs @wand3ringr0s3 @finecole @angelinathebook @highly-acidic @90shermione @zreads @susceptible-but-siriusexual

no smut taglist: @parker-potters

Fred adored you. Truly. You were his closest friend, aside from George. The little Hufflepuff with the ribbons who’d shouted him down after a prank only four short years ago. The one who truly would tell him what you thought of his pranks.

Perhaps that was a lie, but he liked your opinion more than most others.

He often didn’t want to hear it, but that's beside the point.

Now though? Now he wanted your opinion. His mother told him once long ago that the reason he got into such intense arguments was that he poked and prodded others until they told him what he thought was wrong, and then he would pounce.

What utter rubbish, Fred thought as he stared you down from across the D.A. Room. All he wanted to know was why you were so against his suggestion that you come with them when they leave Hogwarts.

Very simple.

Not to mention how annoying it was that you were paired with Longbottom. All he ever heard was George prattling on about how much he missed spending time with you. If Neville weren’t careful he would catch the bad end of a Nosebleed Nougat.

You for your part, seemed to be returning his gaze with an equal amount of fervor. In between longing glances at George.

If Fred weren’t such a firm believer in keeping promises, he would have locked the two of you in a cupboard long ago to shag it out.

Alas, he was frustratingly loyal.

What a terrible flaw to have.

It was towards the end of the meeting, when you looked near tears of frustration of being unable to figure out the expelliarmus charm, and George was fawning over you that he approached. Even Harry had left.

“Y/N.”

George shot Fred a warning look, a look that said ‘if you pick a fight I’ll knock you out’.

Fred hadn’t been knocked out by George yet.

It was like an itch he couldn’t help but scratch. Fred wouldn’t admit it, even if there was a wand pointed to his jugular, but he was every inch as self conscious as George. Perhaps even more. People who knew them always talked about how confident Fred was and how smart George was. How his twin had the more mature personality.

Perhaps it was true, but the thought that he was missing out on something that others might have noticed dug underneath his skin and clawed against his skull.

You took in a shaky breath.

Fat tears on your cheek. Fred let out a grunt. He could be emotionally mature. He could be the more mature one. More mature than George obviously-- he could state things in a clear way, and even wait to say them.

He could do it.

This was a time to wait. “You want to be a healer right? No one’s going to come at you as a healer. Let’s go get you to the kitchens then to your dorm.”

The little smile you gave eased his heart a bit.

He’d always been uncomfortable when you’d cried.

You were mad. He could tell. You were mad at George, Fred knew it like he knew Quidditch formations. You always got weird and pouty when you sat on the other side of the Great Hall. You could have asked to sit over with them. It was the weekend. Life was boring without a bit of risk. But you took your seat at the Hufflepuff table and kept looking back over at George.

Fred wasn’t able to hang out with you either. Every free moment you chased after his twin.

You were supposed to be his best friend too.

You were a prat sometimes. And you were too wrapped up in your ‘unrequited’ love to notice it.

With a huff, Fred followed you out of the hall as you tried to escape. Presumably to cry in your dorm room again instead of coming over to speak with them.

Madness! What was George going to do, push you away?

And even if George didn’t want to talk-- which he always did-- you could have been speaking to him.

What had happened to best friends?

“Oi!” his voice was loud in the corridor, with his large frame and fiery hair it was easy for you to locate the sound. “Why are you running out without talking to us?”

He meant ‘me’, but that was too messy.

You frowned up at Fred, lip wobbling, eyes wet. It was hard to be intimidated by someone who looked like they were about to cry. “You seemed plenty busy, Fred.” When you turned on your heel and tried to stomp off, Fred followed you.

Followed you through empty corridors, easily outpacing you.

“Why won’t you come with us? Why aren’t you spending time with us?”

“Why aren’t you two spending time with me then?” Your voice sounded like he’d brought sandpaper to an exposed nerve.

“No! Stop turning it around! I have to listen to George pouting every day--” Of course talk of him is what gets you to soften. “Will you fucking stop with that!? Acting like your world revolves around him? If it did you’d come with us--”

“I can’t come with you, I need to finish my schooling! Some of us are studying for a job that requires a complete education, Frederick! Not all of us can just run off without thinking--”

There it was.

“And our plan is bad because it doesn’t need us finishing up here?”

“Will you shut up Fred? You’re taking words out of my mouth!”

“Then say your bloody words!”

Later on, Fred would be thankful that you two were in a relatively private location.

“IT’S NOT MY JOB TO COME WITH YOU, ALRIGHT? I’M ALLOWED TO BE UPSET YOU TWO ARE LEAVING!”

“IF YOU WERE OUR FRIEND YOU’D BE HAPPY FOR US--”

“SOME OF US ARE EMOTIONALLY MATURE ENOUGH TO FEEL MORE THAN ONE THING AT ONCE, FREDERICK.”

Fred felt himself pale, and pressed on despite George making his way over.

“Nice enough of you to call me emotionally immature. At least I can say what’s on my mind.”

Now you look every bit as hurt as he was. Good. Though, he had to admit, you looked much more intimidating now that you were getting truly angry.

“Shut up Fred. The only reason you’re picking fights right now is because you’re scared about leaving!”

“I’M NOT SCARED!” Fred’s voice bellowed and echoed down the hall. He shrugged off George’s hand on his shoulder.

“You are! You’re scared and confused and nervous, you’re just too fucking proud to admit that you might actually care about the risk you’re taking!”

“Will you two fucking settle down?!” Like always, George was trying to be the voice of reason. The mature one.

What horseshit. And he couldn’t even go let off steam at practice.

“Why should I calm down-- he’s the one who came over picking a fight!”

“You’re the one pouting like a fucking five year old, aren’t you? Why don’t you tell George then why you won’t go with us? Been making him upset too but you’re too busy thinking about yourself--”

You looked like you might cry again, though more than that you looked like you might smack Fred. “I shouldn’t have to explain why I need to stay here to be a healer! If you had any fucking sense of empathy you’d understand--”

“Hey!” This time, George stepped between the two of you. Apparently, hearing George bellow was enough to stun you both enough to stop shouting for a bit. “Go walk it off, Y/N.”

You gave George a look that Fred knew would bring his brother near tears later. George seemed near tears more than usual these days.

It only made Fred want to argue with you more. You were so determined to deny that George obviously couldn’t love you, that you rejected the notion that he might be just as sensitive as you were about some of these things. You rationalized his tears and fears so far away from yourself that any guilt on your part seemed absolved.

Fred opened his mouth to get the last word in, but stopped when he felt a rather rough grip on his shirt from his brother. He used his forearm and pushed him away. “Don’t touch me mate. I’m allowed to get mad at her.” You were far enough away that he could speak at least part of his mind. “Just because you like her doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to get mad at her. She’s my friend too. She’s been a prat, and she hasn’t been supportive enough even though she was one of the first people you told!”

“She’s upset!”

“SO? We all are! She doesn’t support us. And I’m not going to spend the rest of the year watching her feel sorry for herself about it. I’m sick of watching you pine over someone who’s too stubborn to even try to talk to us in the hall.”

Fred shoved past his brother and bit down his tears. He was mature. He didn’t spill either of your secrets. That was mature. Keeping secrets even when you were mad at the other person was mature. He knew that.

Something hot and wet was falling down his face. It must have been raining, he thought, as he walked blindly outside into the autumn night. It rained often in Scotland. People were often so focused on the fact that he and George were twins that they forgot that Fred was exactly in the middle of the rest of the Weasley children.

George complained to him once about not feeling like an individual, and like a good big brother, like someone mature, he bit his tongue and listened to his twin’s feelings.

Of course he knew what it was like to play second fiddle. He got labeled as the ‘mean’ twin. The rude one. The hot headed one. There was truth in that, and Fred wouldn’t deny it, but it stung still. You’d been nice about it though. You’d called him bold. Knew him apart immediately. Sanded down his edges over the years.

You’d called him your best friend last year. Laughed when he’d asked about George. Said you were always too nervous to tell George what was exactly on your mind. It was always so easy to talk to him you’d said.

So why wouldn’t you talk to him anymore? If you were supposed to be his best friend, why weren’t you trying to spend time with him?

Fred coughed into his sleeve as he finally ran out of breath. Eyes swollen. You were supposed to be his best friend too. You were supposed to prioritize him too. He was angry too about being kicked off the team.

He wasn’t scared. This was going to be an adventure. Fred landed himself onto the grass, shoulders shaking. If he could shout, he would. But instead his teeth seemed to lock together.

Fred Weasley didn’t get scared. The late nights he spent working on things where his heart wouldn’t stop pounding against his chest wasn’t fear. It was excitement, obviously. He wasn’t scared. He wasn’t scared reading about more muggle attacks. He didn’t get scared remembering that you and so many other of his friends were muggleborns.

He certainly hadn’t panicked realizing what could happen to you and your family when you’d joined the D.A.

Fred Weasley didn’t get scared.

He didn’t cry either. His face was red as he rubbed his sleeve rather roughly against his eyes. The rain had gotten in them, clearly.

He would show you. He’d show you he wasn’t scared. He’d show you that he was mature. He’d show everyone that this was a great idea, and he’d been smart convincing George to do it.

Far off in the distance, a few first years were chatting amongst themselves, wondering why one of the Weasley twins was sitting alone in the grass, rubbing his eyes so harshly on such a perfectly clear night.

George was sad. Fred didn’t like it when his twin was sad. It crawled under his skin. It scratched at his bones.

Fred knew why his twin was sad, and it made him even more uncomfortable.

You were also upset. Something that shouldn’t have bothered Fred as much as it did, seeing as the two of you were arguing at the moment.

That didn’t matter though. Everything would be alright obviously-- he was the strong twin. He didn’t get sad like George did. He wasn’t going to be the type to lose his mind over someone not spending time with him, obviously.

He would never make George admit it, but the younger of the two of them had always leaned a bit towards anxious tendencies.

It was Fred’s job to keep himself strong so that George didn’t have to worry about things.

Thinking about you again made him rankled.

If you would just stop ignoring them, everything would get better. He couldn’t make you come with them-- and deep inside his gut Fred understood why you wouldn’t come, but if you would put everything aside everything would get better.

George was shaking his head when Fred asked if he was going to come to breakfast. “Don’t feel well?”

“It’s my stomach.”

Fred frowned at his brother. If he were the type to be honest with himself, he would admit that he was making things worse for his brother.

“Stay in bed then. Umbridge will only make things worse for you.”

Perhaps he could have been more comforting.

Perhaps he could have been better at explaining things.

Perhaps Fred shouldn’t have argued with George after his argument with you.

Perhaps Fred wanted someone to scrutinize his emotions like people scrutinized George’s.

Perhaps that was a silly thought. Fred Weasley didn’t get sad, after all.

When it was the three of you in detention it was easy to laugh it all off. Sure, writing in your own blood hurt, but you could all laugh it off imagining what may happen if you’d misspelled a word.

It was an awful experience, but it was easier to forget when it was the three of you.

Now though?

“Keep writing, Weasley.”

Fred wondered if he would be able to knock the lights out of Nott before anyone could stop him.

Being expelled wouldn’t be the worst thing--

Unless they snapped his wand.

For the moment though, Fred settled on a glare before staring back down at the parchment in front of him.

Just a little while longer.

I must act my age.

Malfoy sneered at him from across the room, no doubt excited to have some sort of revenge from the beat down he’d gotten just a few weeks prior. “Yes, come on then George. Or are you illiterate?”

Fred was about to open his mouth to make a crack, but you seemed to beat him to it. “That’s Fred.”

You’d never spoken in detention before. Malfoy strode over to your desk, and you met his stare with another one, “What was that?” Astonished, Fred watched you rise to your feet, eye to eye with Malfoy who seemed to flinch and step back. “I said that’s Fred. If we’re here for detention, perhaps you’re here for a remedial lesson then since you can’t seem to understand two word sentences. Don’t get cocky Malfoy.”

“You’re the one who’s being cocky if you can’t even duel.”

“Clearly I don’t need to duel you to send you off crying to the hospital wing.”

“Miss Y/L/N!” Umbridge’s voice was shrill from her desk. “Another week of detention for threatening another student.”

Instinctively, Fred grabbed his bag when the timer went off, ready to grab your sleeve and pull you out. Unfortunately it seemed Umbridge had another plan.

“Miss Y/L/N. You’ll be staying behind. I need another twenty lines from you.”

You shot Fred a look, as if you were reading his mind. Rarely could he read someone as well as he could read George.

This was simple though.

Get going.

Fred knew your footsteps. He’d memorized them over the years. When he heard you walk by the statue he was hiding behind, he stepped out just enough for you to see him. “You didn’t have to do that.”

You frowned at him, “I did. He called you illiterate.”

Ah yes. Hufflepuff loyalty.

Hufflepuff stubbornness.

You two continued to stare each other down before finally Fred spoke again. “Your hand is bleeding.”

“Stunning observation there.”

With a scowl, he gestured for you to follow him behind the statue and down one of the hidden passages. “Let me clean it up for you at least.”

You sat down on the cold stone floor once the two of you were far enough away to be heard, and continued to glower at him as he sat across from you.

Fred kept your gaze inch for inch.

“You’re being awful nice for someone who saw fit to yell at me for being shy.”

“If you think that’s why I’m upset you’re just as thick as I thought.”

Fred kept the edge in his voice, but he kept his touch gentle as he dabbed the blood off your hand.

“How am I supposed to spend time with you two when you’re constantly busy with other people--”

“You just come over!” Fred’s voice echoed throughout the passage, louder than he’d intended. However, he was on a roll. “You’ve been our friend for years, you already know our friends because they’re your friends too, you spent the fucking summer with us! You just come and sit down, but you’re too fucking set on George coming over to do that aren’t you? You’ve always got that love story stuck in your head. Can’t see past it far enough to think about your other friends.”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean? I spend plenty of time with my friends!”

“Do you?”

The lack of comprehension on your face was frustratingly astounding. Biting back the urge to start screaming like he’d been doing into his pillow the past few nights, Fred allowed his voice to sound as bitter as he wanted as he rubbed a salve onto your hand. “We hardly ever see you! Just have to watch you stare at us from across the hall. Do you think I don’t notice? It’s obvious what you think, that you’re wishing someone will come over and tell you it’s alright. You’re not the only nervous one you know! You’re not the only one who gets scared or anxious-- have you thought about that? Getting so upset when I offered you to come with us-- you could have just said no!”

“I did say no!”

“You got so defensive-- like we were attacking you! You’re a muggleborn, I wanted you out of here before things got nasty! Making it sound like a terrible idea-- for every Malfoy that says those terrible words to your face, there’s a dozen others who are too cowardly to. But now Voldemort’s back! Can’t believe you want to stay here where it’s so dangerous. Your career isn't everything! Being a healer can wait!”

You were curiously silent, and if Fred were to snap out of his heated rant he would have noticed the odd expression on your face.

“That’s another thing, Y/N! You’re always so caught on George! He’s not the whole world you know-- do you know what it’s like to hardly see your closest friend, and when you do see them alone they just talk about their crush? It’s bloody annoying! Makes you feel like you’re not a priority! Or hearing that your idea to leave is a bad one when you’re just trying to be brave--” Fred’s voice felt thick, his vision became blurry with tears but he continued. “I am brave! And just because I’m not George doesn’t mean I don’t get scared or sad-- Everyone always prattles on about how he’s feeling, I don’t feel wonderful all the time either! But I have to keep pushing on, like nothing is bothering me! Because this was all my fucking plan, and if I don’t push on all this work will have been for nothing!”

Fred forgot sometimes, that you could read him better than you could read George. “I’ve made you feel looked over, haven’t I? Is that what it is Freddie?”

He wasn’t supposed to cry. So why was he crying? “You have! You said I was your best friend, and then you just start ignoring me--”

It was a strange hug that you wrapped him in. He had to crouch down on his knees to be properly held in your arms, but it didn’t stop him from crying into your shoulder as he continued to rant and rave. It wasn’t until his throat ached from speaking that he noticed you rubbing circles into his back or your hand in his hair.

He was brought back to many years before, how it felt to be wrapped in his mother’s arms after a long tantrum.

“I’m sorry Fred.”

He pulled away, sitting on his heels and watched you rub your own teary eyes. “I should have thought more about how you felt. You’re right.”

“Why won’t you just come over to be near us?”

“I was scared you two might not want me there. You always look like you’re having so much fun.”

His brow furrowed, what a silly reason. It hardly made any sense. “You’ve known us for years. You spent the summer with us. Why wouldn’t we want you there?”

You gave him a very halfhearted shrug, giving the impression of someone who didn’t quite understand themselves. “Don’t know. Since all of this has started… haven’t quite felt myself. I’ve been burying myself in studying. Trying not to think of much.” you looked as if you were willing yourself up to say something. “Was that why you invited me then? Because you were worried about me?”

“Someone’s got to-- you can’t even manage a simple disarming spell.”

Thankfully, you had the grace to laugh at that, even with tears in the corner of your eyes. “That’s mean!”

“It’s not mean if it’s true.”

“I want to be a healer. I’m not leaving early. I’m bad at fighting, but I’m good at healing. So I’ll be doing that during the war. I know you’ll do something silly and get your ear blasted off. Someone’s going to need to know how to patch it back on.”

“I’m the smart twin. That’ll be George who does something that stupid.”

You waved your hand as if it were all unimportant. “My point stands. I’m not afraid of Malfoy. I’m staying here and finishing up my education and I’m going to do well on my NEWTS so I can get into a good program.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Again, you shrugged. “Can’t just let you two try to beat up everyone for me.” With a half smile as you wiped away your tears with your sleeve, “And I reckon I made you feel bad about your choice?”

Fred hardly needed to nod as he shifted himself to sit beside you, arm squished against arm as you both leant back on the cold stone wall. “Didn’t make me feel good about convincing George to leave early.”

“Ah. I should have known it was your idea.” There was a silence, as you took his hand in yours and tapped your fingers against his palm. “I do support you, you know. And I know your ideas and marketing will do well.”

It was nice to hear you mention the marketing-- it’d been Fred drafting up the ideas for it. George tended to be the one to work out the specifics.

“I just get sad thinking about being apart from both of you. And I could have said that better.”

“We’ll miss you too, you know.”

“Even if I’ve made you sad?”

“Yeah. It’ll be hard for me to make you feel guilty about that if you’re all the way here in Hogwarts.”

When you pinched his hand, Fred let out a loud laugh.

“I could have said this all better. I’m sorry.” He chewed on the inside of his cheek. “It’s hard to talk about this stuff.”

“It’s difficult to open up when we’re scared.”

You read him too well.

You knew that he did get scared, every once in a while.

Even if he’d never admit it.

It was Fred who woke up first, shivering with an ache in his throat and his head with a rather harsh nudge to his thigh.

“Why are you two in here?”

He would have known that irritated voice anywhere.

“Morning Georgie.”

Fred sat up, and realized he’d fallen asleep using your forearm as a pillow.

“Answer my question.”

Fairly certain he had a fever, Fred looked up at his twin. “Clearly we had a passionate night of lovemaking, as evidenced by us both being fully clothed.” When George continued to scowl down at him, Fred let out a shrug and a cough, “Talked. Patched things up. Fell asleep.”

George used the back of his hand to test the temperature of Fred’s forehead. “You’ve got a fever.”

“Thank you Healer George.”

“Oh shut up. I was worried about you.”

“How’d you find us?”

“Borrowed the map from Harry.”

You finally began to stir, shivering just as much as Fred had been.

Sleeping in a cold tunnel towards the end of fall truly was a horrible idea.

“Why’s my arm asleep?” when you noticed George, you frowned a bit, “Why’re you here?”

“He came looking for us. He’s jealous I got to spend the night alone with you because of our torrid love affair, and that’s something he wants instead.”

Like always, the comment seemed to fly over your head. “We don’t have one of those.”

“Don’t hide our love, Y/N.”

George rolled his eyes, and offered his hand to help you stand. “You two are hopeless. Let’s get you to the hospital wing.”

“Not going to help up your brother?” Fred chuckled as he watched George put his coat over your shoulders before helping up Fred and wrapping his scarf around his brother’s neck. While he was sliding mittens onto his brother’s hands he shook his head.

“Just glad you two aren’t fighting anymore. Thought I was going to have a heart attack from the stress.”

“Sorry Georgie.” both you and Fred spoke at the same time, resulting in an amused smile from George.

“Hopeless. Just like I said.” with that, he slung an arm over Fred and wrapped his other around your waist. “C’mon. Now you both get to spend Saturday sick in bed. Terrible judgement, you two.”

Fred grinned as you let out a tired laugh.

Things felt a bit closer to normal.

#george weasley #george weasley oneshot #george weasley imagine #george weasley x reader #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley fanfic #fic: duet #my writing

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theshelbyclan · 4 years

Text

Mae

Summary: I am Emma, the invisible sister of Danny Whizz-Bang: the ordinary man who passionately believed I was extraordinary

A/N: Anon requested: I’ll star saying this :I love your writing! , so I had an idea for an original character, like imagine if Danny Whizbang had a younger sister (around thirteen years old) who is always been near to the shelbys and it's really close to them all, after her brother comes back from the war she steps up to take care of him but she is not really succesful at it, when her brother dies she is absolutely broken hearted and tommy takes her under his wing. This could be an imagine or a longer fic btw.:) I love this request sooo much, thank you for this wonderful and original idea! I kinda got creative with this character, hope you don’t mind ;)

Words: 2586

***

My name is Emma, but I go by Mae. My mum likes to tell the story of my birth and how Danny was sitting in the hallway with dad, both smoking frantically. Mum had already had a few children, but I was her last one, the unexpected one. When I was born, Danny rushed in and demanded to hold me. When he asked mum what my name was, she told him, “Emma.” But Danny shook his head and said, “No, she looks more like a Mae.” So, I go by Mae.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Danny used to call me. I’d sit on his shoulders and he could walk for hours, until you could no longer hear the factories or smell the smoke. He’d show me the grass and the trees and used to say, “See? The world is bigger than you could ever imagine!”

I cried when he went off to war. He tried to make me feel better by telling me that he was simply traveling the world. “Are you going on one of our walks again?” I asked, full of childhood innocence. “A bit further than that, sweetheart,” he said. “All the way, outside of Birmingham?” “Yes, I’m crossing the ocean. And when I come back, I’ll tell you all about it.” And with a kiss, he left.

But he was different when he came back. He tried to act like the brother I knew, always softly spoken en as gentle as a giant can be, but when he was on his own, he often changed. The war had damaged him beyond repair and even though I tried to bandage the internal wounds as much as I could, he remained emotionally unstable. So I started following him around and whenever he went mad, I was at his side, when I could. Suddenly, Danny Whizz-Bang had a shadow and everybody knew it. It was almost like it’d had been before the war: my favourite brother and I, inseparable. But still, he was different when he came back.

*** One day, I followed him after school, because he wasn’t acting like the Danny I knew and loved. I lost him halfway so I went into the Garrison, thinking he might go there next. As I walked in, I saw Mr. Shelby sitting at the bar, so I faltered a little.

He looked up and noticed me. “Hello, Emma,” he said in that husky voice of his, “How’s your mother?” “Very well, Mr, Shelby,” I replied meekly, even though she wasn’t, “Thank you for asking, sir.” He took another sip of his whiskey, “No need to call me ‘sir’, Emma.” “Sorry, Mr. Shelby,” I replied, without noticing the discrepancy. The Shelby’s were like royalty around here and every child grew up learning they were to be feared and respected at all times. I’d known Tommy since I was little, but I wouldn’t dare to call him ‘Tommy’.

“And where’s your brother?” he inquired in a low voice. I was scared that he could sense the worry in my voice, so I feigned fear and let my shoulders drop. Pretending I was even younger than I was, I mumbled, “I thought he might be here.” And then Thomas Shelby turned and looked me right in the eye. Shivers went down my back and I turned away involuntarily. I couldn’t have been more grateful when another man stepped up from a table and walked over to Tommy to talk to him, freeing me from all inquisitive looks. Slowly, he lit another cigarette and tried his best to ignore the man who was talking to him, but I could see the interest in his eyes. He was like a horse, with ears suddenly standing up. I love horses. Meanwhile, I’d disappeared into the shadows of the Garrison. I was good at that: disappearing. See, I’d realised that girls of my age have that talent. We are still cute, if we want to be. Not quite adorable anymore, but sweet and innocent we can still be, to others. Luckily, I wasn’t pretty, or I’d lose my advantage of invisibility. But we see everything. People think we’re just children but our minds are beyond that stage already, so we observe. The secret is this: we are not yet women, but no longer little girls either. The strange result is that we are invisible to adults, because we fit in neither category. We pass around unnoticed.

Suddenly, my brother came crashing through the doors. He was having one of is episodes again and I rushed out of my hiding place towards him, only to be thrown backwards into the chaos. Tommy and the other man reached Danny first and even though they didn’t seem to like each other before, they worked as one now. With a few exchanged glances, they both knew what to do and they tackled my brother to the floor swiftly, while offering him calm words.

Danny didn’t stop screaming and I became numb from the pain I felt for him. I would share it all, if I could, but there was nothing I could do. When silence followed, Danny quickly apologized to Tommy, cap in hand, muttering the words I had spoken moment before: “Sorry, Mr. Shelby…” I ran after my brother when he left again and took his hand in mine. That always seemed to help. No one else had noticed my presence at the scene, though I could feel a pair of eyes burning in my back when we left. ***

I come from a large family. I had more brothers than I could count and there wee always too many mouths to feed at home. Most of them worked at the factories. They were just ordinary men, living ordinary lives. But Danny had always been my favourite. He wasn’t anything special, but he asked after me every day, even when he got back from France. I never talked much, not in school and never in the streets, but I did speak at home. But me and Danny, we actually talked. Also, he had kind eyes, like my mother has.

I wasn’t there when he stabbed the Italian. I’d been in school because I’d been the first one in my family to go and so I went, every day. I remember that one day, Tommy came into our house. Danny, another brother and I sat hunched over a book. Tommy asked my mother, “Are they teaching your girl how to read?” Mum had laughed a little, “I think she’s teaching them to be honest.” And so I went to school, because Danny told me I was the brains of the family and that was all the encouragement I needed. Meanwhile, my brother unwittingly killed a man with criminal ties, and so Danny’s death was demanded in retaliation.

When I heard, I rushed out of the school building and sprinted through the streets of Small Heath. Suddenly, I was grabbed from behind. “Shhh,” someone whispered in my ear. But I struggled for my life and kicked the invisible assailant, because the only coherent thought in my head was Danny. “Let me go!” I said angrily. “Emma,” he pleaded, and only then did I recognised the voice, “It’s done. Your brother killed a man.” I turned around to face Thomas Shelby and I spoke more words than I’d ever had to him, “He didn’t kill a man. After the war, Danny was already dead.” “We all are,” he nodded. “Where is he?” I demanded. “Safe.” I narrowed my eyes, “And for how long will he remain safe?” Tommy cleared his throat and looked away. All the shyness had fallen from me, “Tell me. I’m not a little girl anymore.” “The Italians deal with death by death. Either they kill Danny in the cruellest way imaginable, or I do it. Quickly.” “You’re going to shoot Danny,” I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t feel. I couldn’t see. “Emma. Look at me, eh?” he crouched down to my level and forced me to meet his eye, “I will find a way. Do you hear me? I will find a way. Trust me, eh?” I didn’t. So for the first time in my life, I reacted on impulse alone and lunged forward. In a flash, I had grabbed the gun from his waist, knowing where he carried it on him. Then I pointed it at the Peaky Blinder in front of me. “Emma…” he sighed, “Don’t make this difficult.” “Difficult for you?” I grunt out through clenched teeth. There was another thing I had noticed about Tommy. When he was stuck or found himself in a position of disadvantage, he changed the subject. He reacted to absurd situations with even more absurd questions or suggestions. This was how remained in control, by catching the other off-guard. And he was trying it right now, “How did you know I carried a gun, right here?” he pointed at the spot on his suit. “I pay attention,” I merely commented, not taking my eyes off of him or the gun. Tommy nodded slowly and stated matter-of-factly, “Give it back to me. If you shoot me, I can’t help Danny.” Something inside me knew he was right, so involuntarily, I lowered the gun a little.

He held up a hand in a surprisingly comforting manner, “You need to let me help Danny, eh? Those fucking Italians are brutal. You can’t get in my way. Stay here. Emma, promise me: stay here.” Completely numb, I nodded. I had no idea why I trusted this man all of a sudden, but I did. Maybe because I grew up with the Shelby’s, the worst family imaginable, but at least we knew them. “Good girl,” he said softly, “When I come back, I will need your help. Just stay here, alright?” And then he vanished. Minutes felt like hours and I couldn’t bear waiting. Silently, I retreated into an alleyway and slid down the wall. There, I hid my face in my arms, which were resting on my knees and just sobbed. I couldn’t lose Danny. After everything that had happened, the brothers I had already lost in the war, I needed him. He came back from France and everything went fucking sideways, but he came back. I needed him to stay. When I heard the gunshot, my heart dropped. The world stood still and my ears were ringing. It was done. Slowly, I got up and walked. Where to, I had no idea. I no longer noticed the people around me and it felt like I was stuck in a glass container, separated from the rest of the people. Apparently, I had walked for hours and when my mind came back to me, I saw trees. I felt exhausted suddenly and let myself fall down in the grass. Within minutes, I was asleep. *** Danny Owens: the man who died twice. I had done my grieving already, outside of Birmingham, under the trees, in the grass. The second time hurt less, or did it? At least it didn’t shock me as much as it did the first time. He was the toughest man I know, because fighting yourself is so much harder than fighting any enemy. I would forever remember him as the kindest, bravest and best man I ever knew. The ordinary man, as he used to say, who told me every day that I was extraordinary. He deserved better. In those months, I never saw Tommy again. He was busy fighting a war with London, the communists and the rest of the world. But still, I trusted he had done all he could for my brother. After everything that had happened, I felt like I finally knew the man behind the peaked cap a little. But then, suddenly, he showed up at our house. “Emma,” he greeted, his eyes soft, “I won’t ask you how are, but I want you to know I tried…” I quickly cut him off, “I know.” His gaze turned glazed all of a sudden and I knew he was thinking of France. Danny used to have that same look about him. “What can I do for you, Mr. Shelby?” I asked politely. And back he was, “I told you the day Danny went off to London that I needed your help.” I frowned, “Why me? How could I be of use?” “You’re special, Emma,�� he emphasised. “I’m just an ordinary girl,” I responded, in surprise. Tommy smiled a little, “That day, you said two things to me,” he paused a little and met my eyes, “Two things I remember clearly. One: you told me you weren’t a little girl anymore. And two: you told me you pay attention.” I kept silent and waited for what came next. Truthfully, I felt a little called out by his words. “I’ve noticed you, Emma,” he continued, lighting a cigarette at the same time. “No one notices me,” I said quickly. Again, he smiled. I’d never seen him smile, but this was the second time in mere minutes, “Exactly. You are invisible and you know how to use it. Danny always said his little sister was the smartest little girl he ever saw, and I now believe he was right. Behind that timid façade of a little girl, you observe, analyse and see everything.” He paused for a moment, “Tell me, Emma, what is it that we Shelby’s do?” I cast my eyes down and answered vaguely, “You run Birmingham, sir, everyone knows that.” “Don’t be afraid,” he said in a low voice, “And stop pretending. You know exactly what we do.” So I spoke frankly, “Yes.” Suddenly, Tommy stood up and walked over to the other side of our small room, “I will make sure you can go to school, for as long as you want to. If you want to go to another school, you will. If you want to go to university, you will walk into that university with your head held high. I will make it happen, alright?” I blinked a few timed rapidly. “I want to ask you for a favour in return,” he continued in his business-like tone, “Keep an eye out for me on the streets. If you hear anything that might be of interest to us, tell me. You’re clever; you know what we would like to know. It’s not a condition; I will take care of your education no matter what, so you’re not obligated to do as I ask. That much I owe to Danny. I’m just asking for your help.”

I shrugged and my pigtails flipped into the air with the gesture, “I’m honoured, but…”

He pointed at me, with a twinkle in his eye, “That’s good: the innocent act, but with the cynical thoughts behind it. No need to try it on me though,” he cut me off.

“Alright,” I let the façade slip for a moment and held out a hand, “I’ll do it. But I do have a condition.”

“What’s that?” he asked, walking towards me.

I narrowed my eyes, “Don’t ever treat me like a child that needs protecting. I need a friend, but no replacement for my brother.”

Tommy shook my hand carefully, “I’ll be your friend then, eh?”

“Yes.”

“Come to me when you need anything,” he said softly, almost lovingly, “Even if you just need some company. I’ll look out for you, Emma.”

And for the first time, I smiled at him, as I contradicted him:

“I go by Mae.” *** Masterlist

#Peaky blinders imagine #Danny owens #Danny whizz-bang #Tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blindes season 1 #peaky blinders fanfic #mae #the shelby clan #peaky blinders season 1 #peaky blinders #peaky blinders headcanon #cillian murphy

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theweasleysredhair · 4 years

Text

Baby Love [F.W.]

Character: Fred Weasley

Word Count: 1693

Requested?: Yes/No

Summary: Looking after Teddy Lupin makes Fred decide he wants a baby of his own with you.

Tags: @gracemayhateyou @criminalyetminimal @firewhisky-kisses @obsessedwithrandomthings @angelinathebook @iprobablyshipit91 @potterverseimagine @slytherineheir @kpopgirlbtssvt @rexorangecouny @mytreec @hemmoporro @thisismysketchbook @acciotwinz @shadowsinger11 @aaannabbanana @lestersglitterglue @anyasthoughts @lxncelot @harrypotter289 @wand3ringr0s3 @ickle-ronniekins @sehunasbitch @cryingforcrystalpepsi @kashishwrites @girl-next-door-writes @susceptible-but-siriusexual @crissdanvers @whizbangs-78 @heart-of-tempered-steel @oh-for-merlins-sake | message or send an ask to be added/removed!

Disclaimer: Gif isn't mine, credit to whoever made it

A/n: just a reminder that this is a queued post! i’m currently taking a small break from tumblr (should be back by the end of the week though!) as i am not in a good place at the moment. feel free to continue sending in asks and messages whilst i’m away - i’ll answer as soon as i’m back online! i shall also catch up on things that i’ve been tagged in and fics i’ve missed then as well! ❤️❤️ to the requester - i hope you enjoy my love! 💕

~*~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK! REBLOGS ARE ABSOLUTELY FINE! <3

+ + + + +

“Never seen him so content,” you hummed to Hermione, a smile playing at your lips as you nodded over to Fred, who was sitting on a nearby couch in the living room of the Burrow, where everyone had gathered for Christmas - the second one since the Battle of Hogwarts - holding a tiny toddler, who was giggling at Fred’s attempts to make him laugh, hair turning a bright blue as he threw his arms into the air.

Hermione laughed, “He’s always loved Teddy.” “He reminds him of Lupin I reckon,” you replied, not having to mention the reason why, considering the small boy looked just like him. Fred, you knew, felt indebted to Lupin, since he was the one to bring George back to the Burrow when he lost his ear - kept him safe after the incident, travelling back quickly to save him. You knew that was one of the reasons Fred offered to look after Teddy so often - that and the fact that the baby adored him.

“Are you not thinking about children yet?” Hermione asked you, breaking you from your thoughts, “I’d have thought with the way he can never keep his hands off you that you’d be pregnant by now.”

You let out a laugh, knowing she wasn’t exactly wrong - Fred always had at least an arm around you or a hand on your waist, always pulling you into his lap and kissing you when he got the chance. And he’d only gotten worse since you were married a few months ago, thoroughly enjoying the new house you’d moved into after the wedding and all the privacy it gave you both - George had learnt to knock on the door when he arrived rather than apparating in immediately, after finding you both in a rather compromising position on the kitchen counter one time.

“Well, I mean obviously we’d love to have a baby... it’s just, well we both got hurt pretty badly in the battle and each had to deal with nearly dying,” you spoke, earning a sympathetic look as thoughts of the battle crossed both your minds.

Fred had nearly been hit by a wall falling in an explosion - he had been knocked unconscious and the moment you saw him laying on the floor of the Great Hall, you’d assumed the worst, until Molly had assured you with a watery nod that he was okay. Then when the battle recommenced, you’d had your leg crushed by falling debris, not being able to dodge spells fast enough, meaning you were nearly hit with the killing curse, had George not have pulled you out of the way in time.

The battle overall took its toll on you both, causing flashbacks and nightmares for the first year or so, only just beginning to ease when you and Fred decided to get married a couple of months back, wanting to make things official after years of dating.

“We just haven’t had the time to plan for a baby. Plus, we’re still really young,” you continued, shrugging your shoulders a little before turning your gaze to Fred, who was preoccupied by baby Teddy, pulling faces at him and playing peek-a-boo, not being able to help the smile that graced your lips, “But maybe having a baby would be a good thing.”

“He’d be a great dad,” Hermione grinned, seeing the way your eyes lit up as you watched your husband cradling the toddler in his arms, even as Teddy decided to grab a hold of Fred’s ginger locks, pulling at them happily.

“The best,” you nodded with a content smile. You excused yourself from Hermione as you saw Teddy reaching out in your direction, stuttering out what you assumed was his attempt at saying your name, clambering over Fred’s lap to get to you.

“I’m here baba, I’m right here,” you cooed, scooping the now-sandy haired toddler up into your arms and giving him a hug, his little chubby arms wrapping around you as best they could. You marvelled at how much he resembled Remus, the same tiny smile on his face.

“Be careful, he likes hair now apparently,” Fred grumbled, rubbing a patch on his head that you assumed Teddy had yanked. You laughed as you sat beside him, nudging his side a little with a wink, “I thought you liked having your hair pulled.”

“I do, but only when it’s you that does it, not when a baby does it with the intention of making me bald,” Fred replied, but despite himself he was smiling at Teddy, who had curled up in your lap and was babbling nonsense to you both.

You glanced up, noticing a presence watching you, finding Molly stood in the doorway to the kitchen, holding a spatula and practically cooing at the sight of her son and his wife looking after a baby.

“Oh you remind me of me and Arthur when we had our Bill,” she gushed, waving the spatula in your direction. You smiled at her warmly and shifted the toddler a little, Fred holding his tiny hand in his much larger one.

“I’m assuming Bill was a lot calmer than the rest of them, eh Molly,” you laughed, watching as she nodded immediately, nearly sighing as she thought back to her other children.

“Indeed. Charlie was a nightmare, always finding creatures from the garden and claiming them as his pets - once found a Doxy in his room that he’d been keeping from me, if you can believe it! An absolute pest, had to get rid of it as soon as I could. Percy was a good child, very smart. Almost as good as Bill. And then came you two,” she pointed the spatula at Fred who mocked innocence and pointed to himself in shock, “Who were nightmares. Then there was Ron and Ginny, but they were almost easy compared to the twins.”

Fred grinned smugly, “We enjoy keeping you on your toes, mother dearest, what can we say.”

Molly hummed disapprovingly at him, “I can’t wait until you both have a baby - for your sake, Y/n, dear, I hope they’re like Bill. For your sake, Fred, I hope they’re like you were, an absolute terror.”

Fred’s jaw dropped comically, absent-mindedly taking Teddy from you as he crawled on his lap, jogging him up and down on his knee, “Terror? Me? As if. I’m the light of your life. Besides, it’s awfully forward of you to think we’re having a child, Mum.”

“Oh look at you both with him,” Molly gestured pointedly at the toddler, who was happily playing with Fred’s jumper, “You’re parents already, you just need a baby of your own.”

With that, she turned to head back into the kitchen, as Fred turned to you, wiggling his eyebrows, “What d’ya reckon, eh love? Want a baby with me?”

“Already picked the names,” you joked, taking Teddy back from him and lifting him up in the air, making him squeal in delight, waving his little fists around.

Fred grinned, then found himself watching the way you were holding Teddy, the way you were cradling him so gently, making him smile and laugh. He bit his lip, imagining what it would be like with his own baby - one with his ginger hair, his nose, and your eyes and lips. One that was half him and half you.

All through the rest of the gathering, all through playing games with his family, talking about how Bill and Fleur were expecting their baby in April, and how Hermione was doing working in the Ministry, all he was thinking about was starting a family with you, watching as you cared for Teddy, to give Harry and Ginny and few hours alone before they took him back for the evening.

And as he sat, arm slung around your shoulder, Teddy now asleep across both of your laps, he decided he wanted his own baby with you.

Later that night, after you’d returned Teddy to his godfather, you and Fred retreated back to the room you were staying in in the Burrow. You lay on the bed, watching your husband move around the room, seemingly deep in his own mind as you watched him bump into the corner of the cabinet twice, and nearly trip over the rug, before you spoke, “What’s on your mind, Freddie?”

He paused in place, having removed his trousers and instead stood in a shirt and his boxers, “Just thinking about Teddy... and you... and how good you are with him.”

“You’re pretty good with him too, you know, he loves you. Kept asking for his ‘Unca Fwed’ when I gave him back to Harry,” you laughed a little, shaking your head.

Fred grinned, “He’s pretty cute, huh? Been wondering what it’d be like to have him around all the time. Except not him, but a different baby. Our baby, to be precise.”

“You want a baby?”

Fred nodded, almost shyly as he pulled his shirt off and threw it over to you, you swapping the shirt you were wearing for his, happily breathing in the smell of him clinging to the fabric.

You smiled at him, holding your arms out to him as he crawled up the bed until his body hovered above yours, leaning on his forearms on either side of your head.

Wrapping arms around neck, you leaned up to brush your lips against his, “I’d love to have a baby with you, Freddie.”

He nudged his nose against yours, humming contently, “Yeah?” “Yeah,” you confirmed with a soft smile, kissing him gently, “Imagine, we could have one by next Christmas, or one on the way.”

“Maybe babies. Multiples run in the family, you know,” he murmured, moving to place kisses along your jawline and you felt him grin against your skin.

“I’m not having twins,” you deadpanned, shaking your head at him fondly as you scoffed out a laugh. Fred pulled back a little, still grinning back at you cheekily as he gently rocked his hips against yours, making your head fall back against the pillow,

“Oh yeah? We’ll see about that, love.”

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley imagines #hp #harry potter #all queue have to do is follow the spiders

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