#he'd be like that's ridiculous georgie

[angryducktimemachine]

I think what I personally really enjoy about AroAce Rudyard is that I know, in my heart, that he would not ONCE spend a single thought thinking he was broken. This man is fully convinced everyone else is just being unnecessarily weird, which really resonates with me, who also spend like 22 years of his life not even considering the possibility that there's something "wrong" with me and that everyone else is simply a little overdramatic over love and sex.

[marvanne111]

moments I love in "Tempting Fête"

"I can only read what I've got written down, Mr. Funt." "Councilor Funt! -Funn, Councilor Funn."

the fact that it's been 11 years of this Funn/ Funt debate (alternatively, that both the reverend and the mayor have addressed him properly the last three episodes and seemed to have no problem with it)

"Yes, well, I'll see what I'm doing that day" -leading the funeral, one would hope?

underrated bit of the series in general: cell service only being available in the reverend's bathroom

"I think he's quite dishy" (this scratches such an itch in my brain; I quote it once a week)

the mayor and reverend (who will be dating by the end of the episode) agreeing emphatically with the above statement

the reverend wearing eye shadow! (incredible, show stopping, spectacular, never been seen before)

"It was one mouse! and, and I don't know anything about it"

"All opposed?" "... I mean, I'd say opposed is a strong word-" "Done! Carried unanimously!"; "All opposed? "I, uh-" "Overruled! Motion carried!"

"We already have an identity: it's miserable and it works." (i want this on a t-shirt)

"There hasn't been a fête for eleven years." "Astonishing. Who's in charge of local events?" "Rudyard." "Ah."

"Look, it's easy to throw money around and get excited about rustic dancing, but we've got-" "I'LL SAY IT IS!"

"His world had once again become an increasingly scary place. There was only one thing left to do..." "Georgie?" "Yeah?" "We're emigrating."; "It was time for swift and decisive action, and there was only one place to head for: Reverend Wavering's bathroom"; at the funeral I was able to witness Rudyard, bereft of Reverend and with few attendees, deliver a stirring and entirely improvised speech about the circuities of fate, the struggles of discord, and an intractable acceptance of the way the cookie crumbles, a sermon that moved the late Basil Corbett’s niece to say, quite simply:" "We want our money back" (some really fantastic narration moments in this one that make me giggle every time)

Rudyard including Madeleine in the emigration plans is said so sweetly and it honestly makes me a little soft

"One word: Chapman." "I should return his calls-" "Chapman?" "- probably won't, though"

"Rudyard, other people do those things for you!" "Conscription?" "Volunteering!"

"I, I, I do like spreadsheets!"

(No Madeleine, I hate raffles!") (these posts are always so Rudyard-centric lol and it's helped me come to the conclusion that he really is the funniest)

"Do you know how many gallons of fluid I'll have to drain from a man that size? Possibly thousands!" "What a ridiculous lie!" (this is another one that I quote often lol)

"I wish I were Mrs. Carnegie!" "You will be, Mrs, Turner. You will be." (WHAT IS THIS RESPONSE?!)

"Fancy a funeral?" "That a threat?"; "Don't forget your funeral." "Was that a threat?"

"Socializing? That'd take up ten minutes and then what would they do? No. Perpetual scheduled activity, that's the way."

"Put some clothes on!" "IT'S MY HOUSE!"

"Antigone?" "What?!" "Helicopters!" "Go back to your side of the table."

"Now get over there and sabotage something!" "*sigh* Fine." "Do you really think that's going to help?" "Oh maybe not, but it'll cheer me up."

"Called up the family, made up a story about... well, re-organizing a fête, that sort of thing." "How did they react?" "Well, they weren't very happy..." "But?" "No, that's it, they weren't very happy."

"You know, I can actually see your future." "Oh yes?" "Mmm hmm. And it involves this crystal ball getting shoved STRAIGHT up your-"

"Alright sir! Mission accomplissshhhhed." "Hello, Georgie." "Hello..." "Get out, Georgie." "Goodbye..."

The Mayor trying to rustic dance for a couple of hours before giving up

Lady Templar's glass eye. (That's it. That's the post.)

"He'd be spinning in the grave you haven't put him in yet!" (best line of the episode honestly)

"What a dreadful little man!" "Yes... mind you, he looks good in a suit"

"Even in a crowd, they all look lonely" (🤌🤌🤌)

"Can't win 'em all" 'Winning anything at all would be a nice change." (also want this on a t-shirt)

"You like to be the hero, don't ya?" (Georgie's the GOAT)

"Rudyard. Do you know what this chap did?" "Yes, he told me" (my man is already so tired of Eric lol)

[sleepy--anon]

Day 1: Anticipation

Lee!George Ler!Sapnap

Warnings: feet tickles

You can still reserve until the day has past

George should really learn to keep his mouth shut. You'd think he'd have learned by now that Sapnap will act on what he says. George down played anticipation the day before while the two were wrecking Dream. Sapnap flicked his eyes to George and Dream already knew what he was thinking without even looking at the blue eyed brunette. George often forgets what he says 'in the moment' so when Sapnap came into his room with an unusual expression he was relatively confused.

"Hello?"

"Hey Georgie, I've come to educate you a bit on something~" Now George was really confused, what did he mean educate? Why was that so teasey? Why was he so flustered by that?

"What are you talking about?" His voice wavering slightly, his nerves shooting like sparklers. Sapnap sauntered over to George’s bed, taking a seat a little further than where his legs were curled.

"You made a certain comment yesterday that I would like to educate you on~" Sapnap’s voice was teasing, but his eyes were sweet, warm, and inviting. George curled in on himself but at the same time, couldn't break the eye contact with his pretty eyes. George shrugged, implying he didn't know what he was referring to. Sapnap gave a soft smile in response, lightly patting his lap and looking at George expectantly. George knew what that ment and quickly shook his head, tucking his knees under his chin and pressing his hands down flat on top of his feet.

"Geooorge~ I'll only be nice for so long~ you can either give me your feet on your terms or I will just hang you off your bed and take your feet my way~" George’s face was impossibly hot, he looked at Sapnap in disbelief but when he saw no signs of bluff he slowly rested his socked feet in his awaiting lap. Sapnap gave them both a firm squeeze, massaging them a bit to release some of George’s tension.

"Relax George, this is a learning experience, I'm not gonna attempt murder, that's reserved for when you provoke~" George hummed and the massage, choosing to ignore his teasing words. Dream had said Sapnap was godly with his hands, to the point he stopped hiring masseuses, but George originally thought he was just boosting his ego. Another thing George was wrong about when it came to Sapnap. Sapnap gave his ankle two pats to get his attention.

"Alright pretty boy, you need to look at me~" George groaned at the loss of touch but complied anyway, silently hoping that if he just listens he'll start back up again.

"So yesterday, you made a certain comment about anticipation, so that's today's lesson~" Sapnap’s voice dropped lower as he dragged his nails ever so lightly up the tops of his feet. George immediately squeaked and yanked his feet back, rubbing the assaulted area.

"Ah~ ah~ ah~ give them back George~ don't be bad~" George’s furious blush returned with a vengeance, he whimpered and slowly returned them to their original position.

"Not the tops..." He whispered, grabbing one of his pillows to hold to ground him. Sapnap traced the tops of his white ankle socks, watching him twitch and whine.

"Oh George, it's obvious that you've never experienced real anticipation before, this is only the beginning, and this isn't even including verbal anticipation. George was borderline vibrating, beginning? Verbal? Was this going to become a regular thing now? George was already wound up, he wanted nothing more than for Sapnap to just get on with it. He felt him tug his socks, painfully slow. He could feel every centimeter of skin get exposed to the cool air of his room.

"Sapnaaaap come oooon! This is ridiculous!" Sapnap only smirked in response, skittering his nails along the tops of his pale feet when he looked away or closed his eyes. Sapnap stopped pulling his socks just before they were fully off, leaving just his toes covered. George felt him tracing the shape and wrinkles of his squirming feet with the pads of his index fingers. It was so light and barely there George was in a puddle of inconsolable giggles. His fingerpads slid up to just under the socks causing George to instinctively curl his toes. Sapnap blew a stream of air against his arch, startling him to uncurl. Letting Sapnap slide his socks the rest of the way off to now trace each toe, earning himself a warning scratch if his curled them. George couldn’t tell if him not talking was better or worse.

"Sahahapnahap! I'm sohohohorry ohohohokay! Plehehease!" Sapnap then skittered his fingers up his legs all the way up to his neck.

"So what are you saying to me giggles~?"

"I gehehehet ihihit! Thihihis ihihihis unbehehearahahable! Plehehease!" Sapnap took pity on George, he knew he was too worked up for a proper wrecking so he just squeezed his knees and skittered his fingers on both the tops and bottoms of his feet, leaving his toes alone for now.

"What do you say~?" Don't test him don't test him don't test him.

"THAHAHAHANK YOHOHOU!" Sapnap gave him a quick rib prod before stopping, going back to massaging his feet, watching George catch his breathe. He hummed softly when Sap moved up to rub some knots out of his lower back. He smiled at his work, George was hugging a pillow close, hair stuck to his forehead, face flushed fusha, and a permanent smile etched onto his face. After a minute or two Sapnap assumed he fell asleep so he made a move to get up, only to get his sleeve caught by a very sleepy George.

"Where you go'in?" His speech slurred with sleep, his eyes wouldn't open but he lightly tugged his hoodie sleeve. Sapnap gently climbed in next to him, pulling off his teddy bear hat.

"Nowhere." George completely forgot the pillow in favor of practically climbing on top of Sapnap, tucking himself under his chin and holding tight. Sapnap sent a picture to Dream while carding through the sleeping boys hair, smiling at the playful jealous texts he received, watching how right after he called them adorable and said he loved them.

[redlegumes]

A Breakdown for Lunch

Square: Panic Attack B3

Title: A Breakdown for Lunch

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 1,292

Ship(s): Steddie, Eddie Munson/Steve Harrington

Major Tags: Panic Attacks, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Love, Comfort

AO3 Link

Summary:

"'Anything you're craving?' 'No,' he said, smaller and sadder that time. 'I'm sorry Eddie, I'm so useless I couldn't do this simple thing. I'm cracking up over lunch. It's ridiculous. I should be better than this but I'm not.' 'Stevie. I love you sweetheart, please. I don't think this is entirely about lunch and even if it was, it's okay to be in a bad place.'" Eddie helps Steve through a panic attack.

Written for @EddieMunsonBingo

"But it's not even… Why why," Steve cried as his balled up fists twisted the denim covering his knees. "Why am I freaking out over lunch?"

Steve was going to get them lunch. Eddie told Steve he knew him well enough to get Eddie something he'd like and hopped into the shower. When he finished and walked into their kitchen, Steve was sitting, tense and unblinking, on a stool.

"Sweetheart?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Steve repeated, looking miserably at Eddie's feet.

"Please stop that," Eddie tried to say as gently as he could. "Are you okay?" He approached slowly with his arms open, wanting to hold Steve in them, soothe him. Unfortunately, when Steve got anxious sometimes touch was the last thing he needed.

His eyes flicked briefly to Eddie's arms and he shook his head in a short 'no' motion. "I'm sorry. I haven't gotten lunch. I just wanted good fries, y'know? But Georgie's is closed on Sundays and that leaves the chain places, and I like Arby's curly fries, but you don't like their menu that much, and McDonald's is so hit or miss, so maybe Wendy's, but then I started worrying, 'cause I really need you to text me your order, 'cause what if I mess up your burger toppings 'cause I'm-"

Eddie broke through Steve's spiral. "Stevie, babe! Breathe for me. It's okay."

Cont. after the cut

Eddie shifted about until he could catch Steve's eyes. "It's okay. Did you take your pills yet?"

Steve's breathing stuttered a little. He had a small pill regiment. Prescriptions for the migraines, the posttraumatic stress, and a huge multivitamin Eddie referred to as a 'horse pill.' They also engaged in some self medication. Just weed. Eddie'd washed his hands of the hard stuff. It was something he wanted to prove he could do for Steve, for their relationship. He'd realized his back stashes had to go when they moved in together, and Steve had firmly insisted none of it was to be kept in their rental. Eddie was reminded they were building something together, something real that could be damaged or lost. So everything but his green herbs went.

"No…" Steve's face reddened. He's still embarrassed by even the implication of dependency on the meds. They'd talked circles around it before. Eddie told Steve again and again there was nothing wrong with reaching out and getting help. His prescriptions were just daily help from medical professionals. Steve twisted his pants in his fingers' tight grip. "I've been taking them after lunch."

"Well," Christ, I wanna touch him. Eddie wasn't overly confident in his vocal attempts to comfort Steve. Physical contact seemed to work so much better. "That might not be the best time huh?"

"I guess," Steve said quietly. "I just felt really off today."

"Well I'd imagine. You had that headache kick in early this morning, and didn't your mom call?"

"Yeah. I haven't heard her voice in over a year." He looked off, eyes unfocused. Eddie nodded slowly. Still within reach, without forcing himself too far into Steve's space. He needed it to breathe. "It was less than a minute. She was in Chicago today and asked if I was in Chicago today, and I said no and she basically hung up."

Eddie wanted to hug him so, so badly, but Steve was wound up. The last thing he needed was Eddie's weight on his jumpy frame.

Eddie carefully questioned, "do you know what you want for lunch?"

"No."

"Anything you're craving?"

"No," he said, smaller and sadder that time. "I'm sorry Eddie, I'm so useless I couldn't do this simple thing. I'm cracking up over lunch. It's ridiculous. I should be better than this but I'm not."

"Stevie. I love you sweetheart, please. I don't think this is entirely about lunch and even if it was, it's okay to be in a bad place." Eddie stood back up, and his hands settled on his hips as he stretched a little. "Now, I am going to go to Bertha's Drive Thru because they have fries that are okay but they also have shakes topped with whipped cream and cherries, and I know that's your favorite. Is there anything else you want from there?"

"The chicken strips?"

"You got it," Eddie replied, beaming back at his anxious boyfriend. He's still willing to eat; that's always a good sign.

…

Eddie grabbed the food and returned to find Steve had moved to the couch. Some game was on the TV, and Steve's body looked more relaxed. The closer Eddie got, singing his return, he could see that Steve wasn't really watching. His eyes stared out, glazed over.

Eddie set everything out on the coffee table and ate while attempting not to watch Steve mechanically chew food. Eddie rambled as they ate, filling up the quiet. Steve had mentioned sometime ago, when they'd first started hanging out one on one, that Eddie's voice was sweet to him. Helped calm his mind when it stormed.

Steve finished his shake. He set the empty cup on the table, and reached out to Eddie. Eddie'd been sitting across from Steve, on the floor, as they used the coffee table to eat off of, but now he uncrossed his legs and rose. He joined Steve on the couch, wrapping him in his arms.

"I feel better," Steve said in a rough voice.

"I'm so glad angel."

"I'm sorry."

Eddie fought down his feelings of exasperation and kissed Steve's temple before settling back a little so he could properly look at his boyfriend. "I know you feel like you have to apologize, but I promise there's no reason to."

Steve's eyes were unconvinced.

"Babe, you don't have to justify a panic attack," Eddie said, his frustration bleeding into his tone.

Steve's head dropped onto Eddie's shoulder. "Yes I do," he mumbled into Eddie's shirt. His fingers tightened where they'd drifted in the embrace, at the small of Eddie's back. "I can't just break down like that. People depend on me. I especially can't for no-"

Eddie shushed him, carding his fingers through his hair. "You can let those thoughts build up in your head sweetheart, but once you say them out loud you have to hear how awful you're being to yourself. Imagine if one of the kids had this happen. This isn't the way you'd want them to react. I know you won't treat yourself like you would want them to be treated. Steve, you don't love yourself like you love the rest of us, but... You are right. People do depend on you; they learn from your example."

Eddie felt the fabric on his shoulder grow wet as Steve silently wept in his embrace. Eddie continued his soft passes, allowing his fingers to gently massage Steve's scalp. He hummed little snippets of recent riffs he'd been working on as he let Steve feel safe, protected.

When Steve did adjust, they laid back down together on the couch. Steve on top of Eddie, simply breathing, simply being.

"Thank you."

"Purely selfish," Eddie said brashly. "I want you to be there for me the next time I crack up." Steve stiffened. "Okay, okay. The next time I, uh, have an 'episode.' Mine are always bigger anyway and involve more property damage. So I want you to remember, and easily recall, how good I am to you when I rage because we're out of Yoo-hoo… or whatever dumb shit triggers me."

Eddie clearly heard Steve's sulky, mumbled reply, "s'not dumb."

"Aw, come on. Let me be a little self deprecating," Eddie wheedled.

Steve nodded no against Eddie's chest. "You're talking about the guy I love. No trashing him if I've got anything to say about it."

Eddie chuckled. "Good to know."

[blorbocedes]

"Georgie, do you know you're a robot?" Alex says casually, but the way he's assessing George is anything but.

"Ha-ha." George says with a straight face. It's not like Alex to resort to the lowest common denominator jokes, George's heard it a thousand times, he's awkward, stilted, Pinocchio, robot. Alex usually aims deeper with his casual insults and leave George up at night discovering he has a new insecurity now. Once it was 'having a side profile that was in the reject pile for Roman coins.'

"No, really." The strangest thing is Alex sounds dead serious, no upturned quirk of his lips George knows is a giveaway when he's playing a joke. "Well. You have an override that deflects self actualisation. But robots aren't supposed to fall in love either, and you overrode that." Alex scrutinises him, voice calm.

"You're not being funny, Alex." George retorts, rubbing his palms against his thighs. It's weird, he can't see any of Alex's tells, as if overnight he became an excellent liar. What else has he lied about straightlaced like this, and George had no clue? He'd always prided himself on knowing Alex, better than anyone. It makes a panicky feeling bubble up, he doesn't like thinking of Alex intentionally being duplicitous; it's paranoid, it's unbecoming.

"Come on. Aren't there things that don't add up?" Alex urges gently, takes his hands, warm against his, which are slightly sweaty. He runs a thumb over George's pulse and George can feel it thudding. George looks up at Alex, confused why he's doing this. He's barely actually registered the consideration, too ridiculous to even think about, but rather why Alex is bringing it up. Is it his roundabout way of telling George he's robotic? They're going through the motions? He had thought things were going fine. Are they not adding up anymore?

It's a little bit insecure to say, 'are you breaking up with me?' at your boyfriend calling you a robot.

"Why are you saying that?" George asks, and it sounds more pathetic than he meant it. Would a robot be this emotional, Albon? A treacherous thought in his head betrays him, that of course he would be programmed to feel them.

"Nevermind." Alex sighs, looking disappointed. George hates disappointing Alex but he doesn't know -- should he have played along? Maybe Alex is bored of his robotic boyfriend who can't play along with a joke.

"I'm sorry." George blurts out.

Alex shakes his head, smiling now, squeezing George's hand one before letting go. "Got you. I'm sorry, it was a bad joke." His hands feel awfully cold now.

It's what George wanted to hear but now Alex sounds insincere, like he's trying to cover something up -- the Alex he knows how to read. Alex presses a kiss against his temple in apology, George's heart lurches the way it always does when Alex is this close to him.

"Seriously, don't even think about it."

George thinks about it.

He thinks about it a lot, at how honest Alex had looked in his assertions. He's in the bathroom, washing his face, Alex is in their bedroom putting something on the telly. His boyfriend. Why would Alex be dating a... not a real person, George wonders hysterically, staring at the mirror like his face holds the answers.

He frowns. If Alex was a robot, but he was still Alex, George would still be with him; no questions asked. They've already gone over the worm question, George would build a terrarium with plenty of enrichment.

Staring at his own reflection until his own face started looking strange to him. Too unnervingly blueish silver eyes, a chin that juts out too much, pores around his nose, patch of redness around his neck. All these little imperfections that pile on, why would someone create something and then give it flaws? That seemed antithetical. He sprayed water over his face -- doesn't short circuit like an iPhone charger because he's a real boy.

Things that don't add up... Alex had said. Everything added up, he had a pretty average childhood like everyone else, mum dad sister and a dog. University. Alex. Alex. Alex. It was all accounted for.

'Aren't supposed to fall in love either...'

George can't remember falling in love with Alex. He frowns. He has a million memories of him, all catalogued. From the smallest micro-expression change, to how his eyes light up when he sees a cat or how he groans before coming, shivering together when they got caught in the rain, their first real fight during a road trip and Alex's casual 'we'll wing it' and finding the motel they were supposed to stay at was booked finally getting to George's need for structure, apologies in the form of convenience store snacks and hooking up in Alex's shitty Toyota. All of those are real, tangible experiences. There is life before Alex but he doesn't put too much stock into it. There's life after Alex but George doesn't think about it, that's barely living.

There's a razor, beside all of Alex's hair dye products. George is relatively hairless, something Alex has harmlessly made fun of many times -- not being able to grow any facial hair. He's never dyed his hair either, in fact altering his appearance had never been something he'd considered, even as Alex went from red to blonde to brown; gorgeous in all. No tattoos, no piercings, not even a single scar from a scrappy childhood fight; completely unblemished, unchanged. Maybe it's arrogance, he knew he was perceived as handsome -- Alex certainly found him so, so why change what works already? He chalked it off to being conservative in his fashion sense, and risk averse to never offend anyone to get in a fight, rather than any conscious decision making to avoid it.

How's this for impulse decision making? George thinks, taking the razor and swiping his against dried cheek. He'd have a tiny scar, no more unblemished and perfect. A hysterical laugh bubbles in his chest if a copper asks what happened, Officer I gave myself an uppercut because my boyfriend played a cruel joke and I had to confirm my morality, no, please don't take him away.

He swipes it before he can think of why he shouldn't, a dozen reasons why forming an excel pros and cons list in his mind with the pros side blank. A frantic voice in his head saying he's being irrational, that nothing's going to come out of this and he's going to be feel real stupid. He's never hurt himself on purpose before. Alex is going to think he's such an idiot.

It stings.

George waits for the drop of blood.

Instead, he watches as his skin instantly heals itself where George had cut it, completely disappearing, leaving it smooth and unmarked.

"Bake-off's on, get in here already." Alex calls from their bedroom.

[holdingforgeneralhugs]

Hiya babe, it's me again lmao. I was thinking if you could you write something for our comedic king aka george luz aka my smol boyfriend? Maybe one where he loves the reader but thinks she could never love him back cuz he's a lil insecure? 🥺Like he sees how close she is to dick or ron and he's like 'yeah, she probably likes them, they're better than me' but the reader is like 'i only have eyes for you'? Sorry for the essay but it's literally the dream I had last night and ever since then I couldn't get it out of my head 😭🥺 totally okay if you won't write it!!❤️

Only Eyes For You

He tried not to think about it, he really did, but that was kind of hard to do when it was right there in his face all the time. It was actually extremely difficult when you were always there with Speirs and Winters, laughing and joking and beaming at them with your bright, beautiful smile.

And the thing was he couldn't even blame you and he wasn't even surprised. You were an officer and so were they, and you had every right to enjoy their company. The problem was he just wished you enjoyed his company more. He was always trying to make you laugh and smile that dimpled smile you had with his ridiculous impressions and jokes. And it worked too most of the time, so why was it that you never seemed to look at him the way you were gazing up at Major Winters right that minute?

George threw his half smoked cigarette onto the dirty gravel road and stubbed it out roughly under his boot. He glanced back at you and Winters again before turning away, his shoulders hunching in. Who was he kidding anyway, thinking a girl like you would even look twice at a joker like him. What did he even have to offer that Winters or Speirs couldn't offer you ten times over?

"Hey Georgie, where you headed?"

He sighed heavily before plastering a smile on his face and turning to greet you as you trotted up beside him. You were sporting your signature cheery smile, and damn if it didn't send a pang through his heart.

"Oh just heading for an evening stroll," George quipped, trying to keep his tone light. But you knew him and all of his quirks, and you could tell there was something off about his usually bright demeanour.

"Everything alright Georgie? You seem a little off," you asked, your brows furrowing with worry. He shrugged you off and flashed you a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes like it usually did.

"Course I'm alright," he replied, "I'm talking to you aren't I?"

You rolled your eyes fondly at him, but you weren't about to drop it just because he'd tried to distract you with his usual charms. "Cmon Georgie be serious for a minute," you implored, "I can tell there's something wrong and I'm not about to drop it so you might as well just spill the beans."

He stopped in his tracks and scuffed the rough ground with his boots, refusing to meet your earnest gaze. "It's silly really," he sighed, shaking his head, "and it doesn't even really matter anyway."

"You know you can tell me anything," you assured, giving him a sympathetic smile.

"Well I..." he started, "I just..." I stopped himself before huffing and shaking his head irritably, "is there something going on with you and Winters? Or you and Speirs?"

"What on earth are you talking about?" You sputtered, your cheeks blazing red, "Why would you think that?"

"Well you're always laughing with them and smiling that smile at them and I dunno I guess I just thought you had feelings for one of them."

"Oh Georgie," you sighed in fond exasperation, "how can you be so oblivious?"

"Wow OK," he grumbled, "I know sometimes I can be a bit dense but there's no need to rub it in."

"Dick and I are just friends, as are Ron and I," you said gently, stepping closer to him and looking into his eyes earnestly, "how could you not know you're the only one I have eyes for."

"What?" He stuttered in disbelief, "but they're....they're officers and they're..."

"Oh none of that matters to me," you sighed, reaching for his hand and squeezing it gently, "nobody makes me smile like you do, or laugh the way you do. You're the only one I want."

"Oh," he says simply, before a grin rose on his face and he pulled you closer, his hands on your waist. Before you could say anything he pressed his lips against yours firmly, and you couldn't contain your excited giggle.

Taglist:  @tvserie-s-world @geniedocroe @generousdreamlanddestiny @sunsetmando @cagzzz107 @stolemyspoons @alejodi0nysus @sunflowerchuck @now-im-a-belieber @delreyleclerc @50svibes @eugene-emt-roe @pennyllane @televisionboy @sparkystark @ask-you-what-sir @parajumpboots @mads-weasley @tetragonia

[tired-fandom-ndn]

Do you have any headcanons about Elias and Jon's wedding?

Oh man, their wedding would be HUGE. It would be the event of the season, absurdly grand and elaborate with a frankly ridiculous number of guests. We're talking a 5 tier wedding cake, a massive champagne tower, custom made crystal decorations, and the most expensive clothes that Elias could get Jon to agree to.

Because it was, of course, all his idea and planning. Jon doesn't especially care either way; he'll marry Elias in an elaborate ceremony in front of people he doesn't know just like he'd marry Elias in a registry office with Georgie and (a reluctant) Peter acting as witnesses. It's all the same to him, as long as they're married by the end of it.

My gut says that their cake would probably be something floral and tea-infused, very light and fancy enough to make Rich Bitch™ Elias happy. A lot of gold accents and decor (Elias really wanted to give off "divinity" vibes) and flowers chosen for symbolism that only Elias cares about with abstract eyes scattered around on. . . everything, really.

The guests would be a huge mix of Institute employees, avatars (weddings are GREAT for establishing treaties, contracts, and agreements), random rich people who think that the Institute is just a fun and eccentric place to buy weird home decor during auctions, and Jon's friends from uni and his urbanex group. Elias's main priority is, as always, making sure that everyone sees how incredible Jon and how terrifying and awe-inspiring he's become now that he's a fully fledged avatar. He wants all eyes on them.

Their ceremony wouldn't involve a priest, obviously, but I don't know who they would trust to basically perform a ritual binding two Beholding avatars together. Maybe Annabelle? That would work really well in my dual-entity Jon AU.

It feels more like a royal wedding than a wedding for a couple of people working at a weird research institute but it works for them and everyone has a genuinely nice time, except for the unnerving feeling of being watched constantly and the times when Daisy has to step in because an avatar (usually Simon) is being a creep.

They spend theor honeymoon traveling, with a focus on visiting museums and true historical sites. Elias has already seen most of them, of course, but it's different with Jon. It's like he's seeing the whole world with new eyes, remembering the awe he felt when he first saw the things that are delighting and fascinating his husband.

[shadowsinger11]

Inspiration

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Requested by anon: Could you do a Fred Weasley imagine where he falls in love with Harry’s younger sister. (Maybe a after the war where he lives)

Word Count: 3.3k (my hand slipped oops)

Genre: Fluff, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining etc.

Warnings: Slight innuendo, Fred being cute and hot simultaneously

Tags: @self-ship-love @susceptible-but-siriusexual @hufflexpuff @neovannii @jenniweasley @elf-punk @heart-of-tempered-steel @itseatyourdamnapples

Message me if you'd like to be added!

Masterlist

Ottery St Catchpole, Devon, England, July 16, 2000

It was a chilly Sunday evening. The summer air buzzed with excitement and the tender aroma of magnolia as tiny white and pink petals were gracefully falling from the huge cherry trees, carried by the light breeze. Twilight painted the horizon in liquid gold and fiery red, soon followed by mellow shades of dark blue that brought countless sparkling stars.

It was getting the slightest bit colder, but it did not matter; nothing else mattered but the loud cheers and cheerful music, celebrating the official bond between a Potter and a Weasley under the wide night sky.

You couldn't have been happier for your older brother, Harry, who was currently dancing with Ginny, his now wife - now and for the rest of his, hopefully, but not really likely, peaceful life. For the longest time you've been wondering how he'd always manage to get into trouble even as a small First year with no experience in the wizarding world whatsoever. Or, perhaps, that was the exact reason as to why evil-battling and rule-breaking were such common practices when hanging out with him.

However, there was no fighting that day. There was no room for worry and fear when the entire Weasley family and their loved ones were gathered on the clearing in front of the Burrow, chatting, laughing, dancing, singing, drinking, celebrating and living for what seemed to be the first time since Lord Voldemort's fall. Danger was practically nonexistent in that blissful moment which was frozen in time, once having looked agonizingly distant and impossible to hope for. But that dream was no longer just a foolish fantasy to heal wounded hearts. It was there, and it was happening in the most beautiful way imaginable.

And suddenly, all those clichés of a married life weren't even clichés. They were simply humble wishes of people who had witnessed far too many horrors in such a short period of time, and only craved stability among the massive chaos. So when you glanced at Ginny, a twirling blur of flaming red hair and a gorgeous wedding dress, you didn't feel the need to comment on how banal the color white was. You genuinely smiled, admiring the pure, exuberant joy, visible in her eyes and scarlet cheeks. Harry looked just as, if not even happier than his wife, dancing in the ridiculous but wholehearted way that only he could, and old memories of him winning the golden egg, training Dumbledore's Army and kissing Ginny in the common room for the very first time flooded into your mind.

It had truly been a long time since you had seen Harry careless and free like that.

You yourself had spent an ungodly amount of hours preparing the yard for the ceremony all day; rearranging chairs, decorating, making sure everything was going by schedule, only to then dance your tired feet off, and though you wanted to continue having fun with Hermione, Luna and the rest of the girls waiting for you, you really needed a break. And a drink.

Excusing yourself to leave the particularly interesting conversation you were having with distant Weasley relatives, you slipped off your black flats that, despite looking absolutely stunning, hurt your feet terribly after an entire day of fussing over the color of napkins and flower bouquets. Barefoot on the grass, you walked over to a chair next to a table which seemed to have been occupied, but judging by the mostly empty glasses and plates, the guests weren't coming back anytime soon.

You tossed your shoes aside with a sigh and rushed to rub your aching toes, hissing from how sore they were.

How has Ginny been dancing like that for hours?

"Enjoying the party, I see?" a familiar deep, slightly husky voice commented, causing you to look up.

It was none other than Fred Weasley, dear friend from childhood, staring down at you, his ever-present charming smirk resting on features and hands shoved into the pockets of his dragonskin suit. But it was his flaming red hair that made your eyes widen - it was carefully smoothed back, shining under the moonlight like liquid iron.

Fred's eyes still contained their famous, loveable mischief, except now slightly tamer and calmer. His firm biceps had visibly grown in size, stretching out the fabric of his coat just a bit to give you a prominent silhouette that caught you off guard.

It had been two years; he had changed so much.

And you were afraid to admit you had too.

You blinked in surprise, processing his uncharacteristically sophisticated appearance before realizing what he had asked you.

"Would've enjoyed it far more if my legs weren't killing me," you groaned half-heartedly and leaned back on your chair. "What's with your hair?"

"What's with your feet?"

"I asked you first," you cut him off. "I bet Ginny is responsible for this."

"Actually…" Fred trailed off, and, whether on purpose or not, ran a hand through the ginger locks to keep them in place, unaware of how you suddenly wished the hand doing the graceful motion wasn't his. "Mum insisted that I looked my best. What can I say, it's not like George and I usually listen to her, but we thought we'd make an exception this time; our sister doesn't get married every day. But honestly, Ginny couldn't care less about how we looked as long we showed up."

"So like usual, you mean?" you giggled. "Showing up is an achievement for you even if you're underdressed?"

Fred beamed, pearly white smile complementing his formal outfit. You wondered if he used that exact smile to effortlessly allure costumers and business partners at work.

He rested an elbow on the table as he leaned forward.

"Come on now, darling. I know you find my messy hair irresistible either way."

His cockiness only caused you to laugh, though Fred was quick to spot the flash of nervousness in your eyes; it brought him immense pride to know he was the one to turn you from confident to adorably bashful and flustered in the matter of seconds.

He was looking at you intensely, expectantly waiting for you to deny his flirty accusation despite your shyness.

"Nah, Weasley. It only reminds me that even at twenty-two you still do not know how to use a comb."

Fred's eyebrows shot straight up to his hairline, mouth agape. For the first time, he actually needed a second to form a reply.

"Didn't see that coming, I give you that. Courageous one, you are."

Your heart fluttered with joy and you openly grinned, shrugging in half-hearted humbleness.

"Perhaps I am."

Speaking to him felt unusually energizing, as though you had jumped headfirst into a chilly lake. It was unfamiliar and it set your nerves on fire, causing your stomach to twist and turn with sensations that left you dizzy, but unbelievably thrilled. And you wanted more of it, you wanted more of him.

"Fancy a drink?" Fred offered, already pouring champagne into a glass before handing it to you, and you keenly took it.

"Thanks, I've been thirsty with all the preparations I was doing."

"Is that why your legs are killing you?"

"Exactly, I've been running around all day, making sure everything was in order… you know, a lot of organizing and the like."

"It must hurt quite a bit then," Fred commented with a pained grimace. "But I absolutely get you, Georgie and I are just like that when it comes to the shop. It's a lot of accounting if I'm being honest, though I admit he's way better at it. We need to be completely precise; we can't allow any mistakes."

"Woah," you laughed. "Control freak much?"

He wettened his lips, never breaking eye contact.

"Perhaps I am."

You tilted your head to the side, gaze piercing into his in hopes of finding out what those gorgeous brown eyes were hiding. The tiny playful flames in them were eloquent.

Shifting slightly in your seat, you smoothed out your bridesmaid dress and raised your glass, the ghost of a smirk playing on your lips.

"Cheers to us control freaks then."

Fred mirrored your smug expression and your glasses met with a clink. The bubbly liquid tingled your throat, undoubtedly refreshing you and cooling you off. You glanced at the people dancing in the centre of the clearing and giggled - Ginny had apparently thrown away her white shoes long ago, bare feet stepping elegantly on the grass.

"You see, I'd like to chat a bit more with you, but I'm afraid it's a bit too loud here. What about we go to the pond across the field?" Fred suggested, pointing at the woods behind his back. You had visited them countless times when staying with Harry at the Burrow during holidays years ago; the tall trees and the glistening waters had never ceased to bring you comfort.

The noise started to become bothersome, and you felt it even more necessary to continue your conversation somewhere private, the unknown causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. Fred's presence could only be compared to a shot of whiskey, or the sensation of anticipating a tidal wave to crash into you in less than a second. It was wild and the tiniest bit terrifying, but oh so tempting as it pulled you in.

"I'd love that, but… you know," you grinned and playfully swang your sore feet. "Can't really walk."

But this didn't at all seem like a problem to Fred Weasley who only shrugged and stood up, "You don't have to. I'll carry you."

"Merlin, no! Please, it's not necessary."

Fred frowned, but his confused expression was soon replaced by an amused one.

"You said it yourself that your feet hurt like hell. And even if carrying you around isn't necessary, it doesn't mean I don't want to."

You attempted to tame the butterflies.

"No, no! You seriously don't have to, I promise," you frantically protested as you held up your hands in front of you to reassure him, but he only gave you a weird look. "I can walk on my own. I'll be too heavy for you."

"There's only one way to find out."

Fred walked over to you and leaned down, one hand sneaking around your waist and the other slipping under your knees. You shrieked in terror, arms flying to clutch at his shoulders, and heat rose to your cheeks from the abrupt contact. Your chests were pressed together, and you were afraid he'd be able to feel your racing heart. His skin was warmer than you had thought, and it successfully fought off the night summer chill.

"Are we going?" Fred whispered down at you, lips so close to yours that you recognized the nuance of champagne in his breath, mixing unbelievably well with the scent of cinnamon and sandalwood of his cologne.

Not only is he sinfully attractive, but he smells heavenly too?

"Yes," you breathed and let Fred effortlessly walk across the meadow with you in his arms. They brought this new, odd, yet familiar sense of security, and you allowed your head to rest against his chest, nervous gaze wandering off into the distance in hopes of not meeting his. Nevertheless, curiosity eventually took the best of you, and your eyes would occasionally flicker to his, which were now completely black under the night sky. They could swallow you whole, you swore.

Minutes later, you found yourselves in the company of old, enormous willows which surrounded the pond you so vividly remembered from your teenage years. You thanked Fred as he carefully let you down, and took a few steps forward to look around and drench in the misty moonlight that enveloped the area. The waters were crystal clear and completely still, reflecting the moon and its majestic silver glow. The bushes had grown significantly over the time you were away, and you fondly looked back at the moments when you would pick up colorful wildflowers in the summer before your fourth year.

"Shall we sit?" Fred asked quietly from right behind your shoulder, and you followed him with a nod. You found a comfortable spot on the fresh grass to sit, a few feet away from where the water met the soil and moved back and forth ever so slightly.

"It's more beautiful than I remember," you noted, lips curled up in a barely visible smile. Fred hummed in agreement.

"That's why I always make sure to come here every chance I get when I return. But, unfortunately, that's very rare in my case."

For a moment, there was only the chirping of crickets and the soft bubbling of water.

Fred turned to you.

"Remember when mum used to call for us to de-gnome the garden and we'd hide here? We could stay in the bushes for hours before we eventually came back," he recalled, seeming deep in thought. It was an extraordinary sight; for once the playful spark in his eyes was more mellow, there was no cockiness seeping into the way he was holding himself. He was just Fred, the man who was currently thinking with so much adoration and love about his childhood, the most significant memories of it being marked by you.

You wondered, given you ever had the chance to spend with Fred as much time as your older brother did, if the charismatic prankster would have fallen for you like you had done. You wondered, given the chance you had let Fred get to know you better all those summers ago, if his heart would have belonged to you by now just like yours did to him.

Had you possibly missed your chance?

"Oh, I do," you sighed, the tension in your chest vanishing as warm nostalgia crept in like an old friend. "I also remember when I got this really bad nightmare that night. I was so terrified that you took me on a ride with your broom in the middle of the night to cheer me up."

"That's true! My parents don't know about it to this day," he replied smugly. "I can still hear you screaming like a lunatic."

You jokingly smacked his arm, "I was twelve!"

Fred's grin grew wider.

"Excuses…"

This only caused you to stare at him in disbelief and cross your arms, managing your most serious expression, but Fred was aware you were on the verge of failing to keep your stern facade. He squinted his eyes as a teasing attempt to provoke you, smile threatening to split his face in two.

"Alright then, that's enough about me," you announced, and Fred nodded in mock agreement as he studied your playful pretence. "If you're so much better than me, Mr Darcy, what else do you do aside from stealing ladies away?"

"Stealing their hearts," he said confidently, flashing you a seductive smirk, reserved only for special girls back in your Hogwarts days. You giggled, finding his antic utterly ridiculous, but you hated to admit that it still turned your blood into liquid fire. Fred apparently saw right through you, because when your eyes landed on his, they appeared completely dark once again, but, you suspected, for a reason other than the lack of light.

Your throat went dry, and you found it hard to swallow down the lump that cut your breath short.

He ran a hand through his ginger hair as he began to explain, "I'm kidding, you know. But to answer your question, George and I have been working on this potion that should be able to change the color of the eyes and hair. Fun for those who enjoy experimenting with their appearance, but it can also be useful to the Ministry. They're actually going to send a team of a couple of aurors to visit us next month so we can update them on our progress and negotiate the details."

"Wow! That's certainly exciting!"

"Is it? I mean, it probably is, but I've been having second thoughts lately if I'm being honest." He scratched the back of his neck, and you realised you had only witnessed him being anxious when it came to his greatest passion. "I'm afraid we might not be done on time, there's still plenty left to improve."

You put a hand on his shoulder to get his attention, and said, "I'm sure you'll figure it all out eventually. Keep working as you normally do, try not to stress too much over the deadline, and even if things go wrong at some point, don't go too hard on yourself. It wouldn't take away any progress you've made so far."

Fred's body relaxed just a bit and he looked down at you. He couldn't deny the sense of serenity that he felt only when he was with you. Even as a careless young boy, he was able to pinpoint the way his midriff would clench every time you'd laugh at his jokes or ask him to play with you, without knowing what it all meant.

But now, as a grown man, he had a word to describe the bittersweet fire within.

"You know what?" He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "I could really benefit from having someone like you around to give me motivation."

"Motivation, huh?" you raised an eyebrow, fighting back a smile. Fred sneaked a hand around your waist and pulled you closer.

"Yes, motivation."

"Motivation for what?"

"Marketing strategies, work projects…" he shrugged nonchalantly, "...among other things."

You quickly caught on, suddenly becoming way too self-aware of the way you were practically cuddled into Fred's side, hand resting on his shoulder while his were wrapped around your waist. But his shining confidence seemed to rub off on you, because you asked.

"What's with you offering me a job all of a sudden?"

His bottom lip was tucked between his teeth as he took his sweet time devouring you with his darkened gaze. You didn't know whether you wanted to hide from it, or expose yourself even further to the way it burned its way straight to your core.

"Well…" Fred dragged out in his low, hoarse voice, and caressed your cheek with his thumb before slipping it under your chin to guide it towards his face. You could nearly taste the remaining flavour of champagne on his lips. "I've certainly been feeling…"

Fred went quiet as he got lost in the way you fit so perfectly in his arms; you had always meant to be there, he realised. His mouth crashed into yours, hands tightly gripping your waist, and you let out a gasp. Fred's lips were soft, although slightly chapped, and they moved gently but firmly against yours, turning you into their slave. Your palms naturally slid up his chest and he closed any remaining distance between your bodies by placing you to straddle his lap. The kiss was a dance of pushing forward and pulling back, two lovers having finally found their rhythm after years of living in fearful desire. You were positively drunk on his taste, on him, and you wished to never become sober.

When your need for air overcame the one for physical contact, you pulled away. Your chests were heaving with rapid, shallow breaths, hearts beating in synch like they had always done. You let a finger tenderly trace his cheekbone down to his jawline, then it came back up to draw different affectionate patterns on his face.

"What were you saying?" you asked, clearly out of breath. "How were you feeling?"

He fondly took your hand that was caressing his skin, and lifted it up to press feather-light kisses on your knuckles. His lips retraced their path until they reached the tips of your fingers, and he kissed those with the gentlest of touch.

You heart ached pleasurably from the way he was handling you with such care, much more than you ever believed he was capable of.

After minutes of worshipping you by the moonlit lake, Fred looked back at you as though you were his entire world. And replied with a smile.

"Inspired."

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

Masterlist

[boxofbadaddiction]

Whoever Broke Your Heart

George Weasley x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Cheating. Guy who doesn't understand the word "no". Teeny Tiny bit of Swearing.

Opening a Joke Shop was the best idea Fred and George ever had. It's what they were meant to do. What made them happier than one would think possible. At least that's what George had been trying to convince himself for the past few hours.

To tell the truth, this past week had been the most stressful so far, and they worked through the beginning of a war!

But now that that was over and Diagon Alley, like everywhere, was beginning to return to the new normal, the Twins had been flat out. Kids were preparing for the school year and in addition to their shop being near capacity every single day, mail orders were through the roof. It'd been like this for the past 3 weeks, but this week...This week could not possibly get any worse!

Between the eight new complaints from angry family members after falling victim to one of their products. To the three ruined displays after a customer 'accidentally' set off one of the boys 'Crazy Creatures' feature Fireworks which sparked a Lion to pounce throughout the store, until the Twins got it under control, it had managed to take out it's fair share of shelving and they had to close the store for a little over an hour to clean up. On the brightside they sold twelve of those that day after everyone saw it in action. Now, however, there weren't enough fireworks in the store to distract George from the mountain of paper work he'd been ignoring. Or from the fact he still couldn't get his latest invention to cooperate. He has completely HAD IT. In his opinion this week can well and truly go and get fuc-

"OI GEORGE! You're not still working in there are you!?" Fred called as he made his way to his brothers room.

Sure enough, there his Twin was. Slumped uncomfortably in his desk chair working reluctantly on the paperwork he'd neglected. With his head propped up by his palm he didn't even acknowledge his brothers entrance.

"For Merlin's sake, George. The stores closed mate, give yourself a break for a minute won't you?" Fred walked over to glance at the work spread haphazardly over the desk top.

"Later. I'm nearly done." George murmured.

"Bollocks you are." Fred replied lifting several order sheets from the pile to read through them. "You've been working non-stop lately, just let it slip for tonight, mate."

"I can't Fred!" He snapped in frustration. "We're so far behind it's ridiculous. I can't let it go because it needs to be done before open tomorrow!"

"We're not open tomorrow, George! It's Sunday!"

"What?" He looked up confusedly at his calender on the wall. "It's the 31st?"

"No." Fred dropped the papers in his hands and flipped the page of the calender, picking up a red marker which he used to circle the date. "It's the 5th, you numpty."

George threw his Quill onto the desk and pushed himself back into his chair, rubbing his eyes in frustration before running them through his hair with a groan. He had a whole day to get this done tomorrow. But here he was rushing through it like last minute revision before an exam because he can't keep track of what day it is. He relaxed at the thought of more time. Fred patted his shoulder with a slight chuckle, noticing much of the tension he'd been harbouring melt away.

"Worried for nothing" he joked. George looked up at him with a glare. Freds face dropped slightly, seeing the bloodshot whites of his Twins eyes and the dark circles beneath them. "Bloody hell...you really need a night out of here."

George stood to stretch his aching back and sighed satisfactorily as it cracked in several places. "Yeah. Maybe I do" he spoke honestly.

"Tell ya what, Georgie. I was gonna continue work on that Dragons Breath Candy of yours tonight anyway so" he dug his hand in his pocket and pulled out a bunch of coins counting quickly, "here's twenty galleons. Get out."

George tilted his head in question.

"Go eat, or drink, whatever. Just get out."

George wasn't feeling particularly energetic for a night out and opened his mouth to protest, but Fred was having none of it.

"UH! No. Take a shower, cause you reek. Then leave and I don't won't you back till you're truly hammered. Hear me?"

His brother smiled half-heartedly and sent up a mock salute with a playfully stern expression.

Feeling far more refreshed than he had 20 minutes ago thanks to a good hot shower, George readdied himself to leave, grabbing his keys then quickly apparating to the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron. True, it wasn't a particularly long walk but honestly...he just couldn't be bothered.

The Pub was decently full but given the fact it was barely past eight on a Saturday night, one would actually consider it quite empty.

Shuffling past the groups of people drinking and talking throughout the room he quickly made his way to the bar. He stood to the right of what appeared to be a couple, leaning his body against the counter as he ordered a Fire Whiskey. He pulled a vacant stool toward himself to sit down as he paid for his drink. He simply sat, contently sipping his beverage, listening to the music as he felt himself relax considerably finally having time away from the stress of work. A few minutes passed before something to his left caught his attention. The couple he'd sat next to, or rather what he now gathered was an uncomfortable woman and some insufferable git who clearly didn't understand the word 'no'.

He was relentless in trying to persuade the woman to join him for a dance...then a drink...then how bout a date...then a-OKAY! George had heard enough.

"Oi, mate." He shouted slightly to be heard over the noise of the room, he tapped the man's shoulder to make it clear he was the one he was talking to. He turned slowly with a sour look of disgust at the interruption. "Give it a rest won't you? She's clearly not interested."

The girl shifted slightly in her chair, distancing herself from the man who refused to leave her alone. She clutched her drink within her hands tightly, trying to appear invisible one would assume.

"You with her are you?" The man spoke as he turned his body to face George, eyeing him with a rude expression.

"No."

"Then sod off. You're not one to know what she wants."

"Given the 8 times she's told you 'no' in the past 5 minutes I'd say I know exactly what she wants. For you to leave her alone."

The girl couldn't help but smile slightly at the redheads boldness of words. The man on the other hand was quickly becoming agitated. He straightened himself and took a menacing step forward, nostrils flaring. George didn't budge. Unphased by the man's movements, he simply sipped his drink with a deadpan expression.

"You tryna spark a problem, buddy?"

"Merely attempting to resolve one." George spoke smoothly.

"I don't see one here needing your help." He hissed.

"That'd be because you're it. So unless you'd like me to conjure you a mirror I'm afraid you'll remain quite blind." He took another sip of his drink. "The girls not interested. Leave her alone."

"Oh she looks plenty interested to me" the angry man spoke "just playing hard to get" he smirked stepping back a pace and wrapping his arm around the woman's side. George noticed her cringe at the contact moving away from him in her seat.

George placed his drink on the counter and stood slowly. His movements making the man drop his arm and puff his chest to appear bigger than he was. Stares never leaving one another as the redhead turned his body to face the arrogant man, looking down on him as if he were something unpleasant stuck to his shoe. Towering in comparison, a good head taller than he was caused a flash of unease to spead across the face of the offender. Evidently he had not realised the full size of the man infront of him while he was seated.

"Leave." George spoke in a deep and threatening voice. Eyes like daggers peircing all confidence the man before him previously held.

In an attempt to gain some composure and try not appear to be fleeing the git scoffed. Throwing a lame insult at the two of them before grabbing his drink and sulking away into the small crowd. George stood in place like a statue until the man had disappeared from sight completely. Posture and expression immediately softening as he turned back to the woman by the bar "are you alright?".

"Fine. Thank you." She spoke swiftly. Not turning to face him clearly wanting to be left alone as her body was still stiff and rigid. George looked at her unsure of what to say. "Do you need anything?".

"No. I'm fine. And I'd appreciate being left alone." She snapped turning her head ever slightly toward him as she did so. He tried to not take it personally as he noted the emotion held in her eyes and the slight tremble in her lips. The way she sat as if trying to restrain herself from something. Her drink, obviously bought long ago as the ice had all melted and the condensation had formed a large ring around the base of her glass. She'd probably been here long before that tosser showed up.

George sat, facing back to his glass not wanting to disturb her any further. She was beautiful he thought, and had the circumstances been different he probably would have been tempted to buy her a drink. But he knew now definitely wasn't the time, even if he just couldn't shake the feeling he needed to say something.

He eyed her curiously and cautiously, not wanting to appear as another weirdo incapable of understanding boundaries. Watching her stare sorrowfully at a Golden Diamond ring she fiddled with in her hands, a tear slipping down her cheek. It all made sense now. He raised his drink slowly to his lips, looking forward.

"Whoever broke your heart, must have been crazy."

She turned to him instantly, a very confused expression on her face as she watched him toss his head back to finish his drink. He signalled to the bartender for another before turning his head to look at her.

Mouth agape slightly as she furrowed her brows at him. He couldn't help the smile that came at her reaction, he nodded toward the ring in her hands.

"Engagement ring, is it not?" He reached for his new drink without taking his eyes off her. She stared at it for a moment before answering solemnly. "It was."

She bit her lip while turning the ring over on her finger tips, as if unsure whether or not to continue. George reminded silent, not wanting to force anything from her she wasn't comfortable with. "I caught him cheating little over a week ago."

"He's a git." He said abruptly taking a mouthful of whiskey. The girl laughed at this turning to look at him.

"You sound so sure."

"I'm certain."

"You don't even know his name"

"No, but I've got a couple for him."

She laughed loudly this time, having to look away from him to compose herself. George could have listened to that laugh all night, he was suddenly very thankful for Fred all but pushing him out of the flat earlier.

When she turned back to face him her cheeks were burning pink and she'd bit her lip slightly. He was taken by her completely. Which is stupid, he thought, because he doesn't even know her name. Shit. He doesn't know her name!

"I'm George, by the way" he reached his arm out to her.

"[Y/N]" she smiled taking his hand.

"Can I buy you a fresh drink?" He nodded toward the warm, flat beverage sat infront of her.

Hesitating slightly she stared into his eyes before nodding with a sincere smile.

They spoke for ages about Everything. Nothing. Hell anything that came up. He couldn't work out how someone could possibly have said goodbye to a girl like her. Nobody in their right mind could. He was smitten, with all of her. The way she smiled. Her laugh. They way she bit her lip when she tried not to blush. The way she played with her hair. He was oblivious to everything in that pub except her. As she was with him.

That was until the distinct sound of her favourite song peirced her ears. She hadn't taken her eyes off him for more than a second since he bought her that first drink, and there'd been a lot since then. Suddenly she was looking over at the band in the corner, smiling.

"I love this song"

He didn't know why the idea came to him, probably from the overwhelming urge to touch her he's been resisting for so long. To hold her. Kiss her. Guess this works as well...

He stood, finishing his drink in a single gulp and held his hand out for her. "Come on."

"What?"

"We're going to dance" he grinned at her.

"Oh, no. I am a terrible dancer!"

"Same, love. No excuses." He winked at her taking her hand and pulled her up.

"One second" she pulled back a step but kept her hand in his. She turned to grab her mostly full drink, chugging it and placing the empty glass back against the rest, before turning her attention back to him.

George let out a haughty laugh at the action. Her grip on his tightened as she glared playfully at him, then taking the lead walked out onto the dance floor where he twirled her around and they danced next to one another not caring about how silly their moves must have looked as neither cared they couldn't dance.

They stayed out there the rest of the night, until the band announced their last songs were coming up. Slow songs. All couples on the floor began to move together. [Y/N] glanced around nervously before her eyes trailed back up to him, he was smiling down to her. Hand outstretched. She took it willingly and he pulled her into him where he began to sway.

"And you said you couldn't dance" she joked as she noticed he'd clearly done this before. He shrugged. "May have learned a move or two at school".

As the music went on the two of them only got closer, his arms wrapped around her as she lay against his chest. George let his chin gently rest on the top of her head, eyes closed enjoying the moment. It was perfect. Until, he felt a notable sigh leave her chest. Not at all content. It was sharp and she was obviously thinking about something she rather wouldn't be. He pulled back slightly to look down at her.

"Hey...what's up?"

"Sorry." She spoke to his chest "I didn't mean t-I just..." stumbling over her words she mentally kicked herself for ruining the moment. Taking a step back as she shook her head, she let go of him. George felt cold without her. "It's not you. I just-"

"You were thinking about him."

[Y/N] looked up at him with sad, apologetic eyes.

"It's okay, [Y/N/N]" he closed the space between them and ran his hand down her shoulders to her elbows. "I understand."

"It's just...all this...the slow dancing, the feelings I have right now..."she stopped herself, staring down at her shoes.

"Hey," he moved to cup her face in his hands. Bringing her face back up to look at him. His brows were furrowed and he had such a sincere look on his face [Y/N] could have melted right there. How could someone she only just met hold so much more love in his eyes toward her than her ex-fiancè ever did? "I like you." She spoke before he could. Georges eyes widened at the words, a smile began to creep on his face. Her hands came to rest on his arms as his hands fell to hold below her jaw. "I just...I don't know how you can be looking at me like that. When you barely know me, but then I was with-" "the git." She laughed at his interruption but still dropped her head to stare at the floor sadly "When I was with, the git, for 3 years and he never..."

"Listen to me." George ducked himself, as his finger tilted her chin up to look at him, "You deserve so much better than him. I don't have a clue how a prat like him managed to wrangle a winner like you but..." his eyes were flicking frantically between hers, desperate for the right words, "whoever couldn't see the girl that I see right now wasn't looking at you, love. If I know one thing is true...if you let me, if you give me the chance. I'll never be like whoever broke your heart."

Tears were forming in her eyes. Biting her lip as a smile began to form. She nodded slowly. Then quickly as she threw an arm over his shoulder and around his neck to pull him into a kiss, followed swiftly by the other. His hands fell to her waist. They felt perfect together. [Y/N] couldn't believe she'd nearly married some cheating git, when there was a man like this out there. A man so full of love, and compassion and pure joy he could light a dark room with nothing but his smile.

As the song that was playing slowly faded to an end the two finally parted lips, smiles so giddy they felt like Second Years again. She fell back into his chest as her arms came down to wrap around him, eyes closed listening to the sound of his heart beat and breathing as the bands last song began to play.

"I kinda wanna thank him." George spoke. She looked up at him, mouth slightly agape, brows furrowed, utterly confused. He couldnt help but chuckle at the look she was giving him. "Well, if he didn't do what he did, you'd never have ended up here in my arms." He smirked causing [Y/N] to roll her eyes before pulling herself back into him. "That's so cheesey" he felt her laughter quiver through his chest. He kissed the top of her head. "Get used to it"

[holdingforgeneralhugs]

Bitter Pill to Swallow

Chapter 2 (chapter 1)

Thanks to @tvserie-s-world for letting me use their screencap💕

"I swear if I take one more step, I'm gonna collapse."

Valerie snorted in amusement at Talbert's groaning. He'd been regularly proclaiming that he'd collapse since they'd set out on the second half of their 115-mile march.

"Tab, if you'd collapsed every time you swore you would, we'd be dragging you along in a wooden box by now," she teased. Luz and Liebgott smirked, and even Talbert had to laugh.

"Yeah, well, the point still stands. This is absolute hell on earth. Couldn't they have packed us into trucks for the last stretch?"

None of them could deny the truth of that, and they nodded their agreement. It was without doubt the worst march they'd had to do to date, and Valerie would have happily run up and down Currahee twenty times in a row if it meant she could get out of this.

After what felt like a lifetime, they approached the gates of Fort Benning and they were more than happy to get to their respective bunks and collapse.

"I, for one, am going to enjoy a nice, long nap," proclaimed Luz as they entered the camp.

"Good luck with that, Georgie," Valerie chuckled. "I'd be surprised if you can catch a wink of shut eye with the snoring Tab's gonna be doin'."

The boys howled laughing at that and started loudly snoring and making ridiculous whistling noises through their noses. Talbert shoved her on the arm weakly, unable to muster the energy to come up with a comeback.

She hissed when she pulled off one of her boots, and it scraped against the new blisters on her foot. It was covered in them, and she knew if she checked the other foot, she'd find the same problem. She bit her lip as she slid her boot back on. She'd need to visit the med-bay to get it sorted before she turned in for the night. 

She winced as she crossed the camp and walked into the med-bay. She sighed gratefully when she spotted the figure unpacking boxes at the back wall.

"Hey, Gene," she called as she hobbled across the med-bay and collapsed on one of the chairs. "Any chance you could help me out over here?"

"What's the matter, chérie?" He asked as he strolled over. She pulled off her shoes, wincing all the time, and showed him her feet. He cursed and went to grab some bottles of foot wash and ointment.

"There ain't much I can do about the blisters, chérie," he sighed as he sat down and began to rinse off her feet with the wash and a damp cloth. She hissed as he brushed over the blisters but quietened down when he tutted at her.

"Joined the army to escape you and here I am, still lookin' after you cause you just had to follow me," Roe teased fondly.

"Aw c'mon, chouchou," she smirked tiredly, "we always said we'd stick together from the Bayou to Berlin. Never would've guessed that might become a literal possibility someday, but here we are."

"From the Bayou to Berlin," he laughed. "You got that right, chérie." He dried off her feet as gently as he could before opening the ointment.

"You know," he started casually as he rubbed on some ointment, "I couldn't help but notice some sort of tension between you and Lieutenant Winters the last few weeks. Anythin' you wanna tell me?"

Valerie groaned and tilted her head back until it rested against the wall. "I've got no idea what you're talkin' about," she replied casually. "You sure the smell of those ointments ain't messin' up your mind?"

"Don't gimme that," he insisted, raising an eyebrow at her pointedly. "You seem to forget I know you better than anyone. I know something's up with Winters, so you might as well just come out with it."

"Alright, fine," she sighed in defeat. "We got into an argument a few weeks ago, and I feel kinda bad about chewing him out, but I also don't, ya'know? He pissed me off and demeaned me, and I stood up for myself. Why should I apologise for that? So I'm just steering clear of him."

Roe gave her that knowing look, and she tilted her head away so she wouldn't have to look at him. "Could this have something to do with..."

"I thought we agreed not to talk about that anymore," Valerie snapped, trying to yank her foot out of his hands. He held onto it, not letting her get away with an easy escape.

"Hey, don't get mad with me, chérie," he pleaded gently. "I'm just saying you can't let that whole thing keep gettin' to you. Not everyone is like him, y'know."

"Can we not do this right now?" She sighed, scrubbing a hand over her face roughly. "I'm exhausted, and all I wanna do is get to my cot and sleep."

Roe nodded reluctantly and patted her leg before standing up and picking up his things. They remained silent as he put things away, and she gingerly pulled her boots back on loosely. Eventually, she stood and took a few hobbled steps towards the door.

"Thanks for taking care of me, chouchou," she said softly when Roe walked over and stood beside her. He knew she meant about her feet, but he also knew that she meant so much more.

"No need to thank me, chérie, I'm always here," he replied, squeezing her shoulder gently. She smiled tiredly and headed for the door, fully intent on collapsing straight onto her bed without even taking off her OD's."Think about what I said, alright?" he called softly. She sighed but nodded to appease him. Deep down, she knew he was probably –no, definitely right. That didn't mean she was willing to accept it, though. She had her defensiveness for a reason, and that wasn't gonna change.

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