#i love you i love you i love you and whatever ur going through do not stop i know its hard we will get through this

[hoshifighting]

can u do svt reaction with no nut november😋 love ur writing!!!!

seungcheol: he starts off strong, “this is easy, i’m basically a monk.” but makes it to day three, tops, before he’s in your DMs, like, “okay, you win, come over.” literally holding his head in his hands before fisting his hard cock.

jeonghan: jeonghan only joins no nut november to annoy you, trying to show off his self-control. “oh, it’s nothing. i can do this easily.” but when you start teasing him day after day, sending him nudes and flirty messages, he’s practically boiling. but he holds out until the end of the month, when December 1st 00h comes, this man is slutting you out.

joshua: tells you he’s “doing great” and that the challenge is “actually easy.” but secretly, he’s sneaking off every day, trying to relieve himself without you finding out. when you catch him, all flushed and a mess, and he’s stuttering like, “uh, i… didn’t know you’d see that.”

junhui: bro is all talk, boasting that he can last the whole month, but he’s the first one to start slipping. he tries to distract himself by going out, playing games, whatever he can, blows his cover, blow his load, by day five.

hoshi: this poor dude loses on day one. you know it, and he knows it. he tries to act tough, but if you cross from the bathroom to the bedroom only in a towel, he’s done for. he sulks the rest of the day, throwing a mini tantrum after fucking you and losing it, and when you tease him about it, he’s all pouty. “you did this to me!”

wonwoo: he thinks he can outsmart everyone, claiming he’s going to meditate his way through november. when you sleep with him in your babydoll or tiny shorts, he’s all softening up, biting his lip and fighting his instincts. he tries to be stoic, he’s grumbling under his breath, and it’s hilarious to watch. “this is unfair. can you at least stop wearing those?”

woozi: he’s stressed from the get-go. the man is rolling his eyes at everyone, snapping at the members over the tiniest things, all because he’s with a throbbing erection in his pants. you’re just fanning the flames, sending him ALL the nudes you can, and he’s getting more and more drained. “why are you like this?” he hisses, but he secretly loves the attention. by week two, he’s a complete mess, desperately trying to hide it, but he’s too transparent. every time you catch him zoning out, you know exactly where his mind is.

minghao: iron will. he goes through the whole month with a straight face, the second december hits, he’s on you. he’s using every spare second to make up for lost ground. by week’s end, he’s practically cock-sore from going at it so much, and you’re laughing, asking him if all that was worth it.

mingyu: he’s so sure he can trick his way through it, asking you to dry hump him because, technically, it’s not breaking the rules, right? but the second you start grinding down, he keeps trying to pull you off before he cums, soon, he’s begging you to stop, whispering about how he can’t take it anymore, so.. just another way losing the NNN.

seokmin: determined to stick to the rules, but struggling hard. he’ll pull you in for heated makeouts, his hands squeezing and holding you tight as he tries to discount on something. flushed and breathing hard, whispering apologies for pulling away clearly fighting himself every step of the way. he’s convinced he can make it to the end “it’s fine, i got this,” he’d insist, though his grip on you says contrary.

seungkwan: “oh my god, don’t come near me!” gets whiny about how hard he is. he’ll throw little tantrums, pouting and going on about how it’s torture whenever you tease him. by the end of the month, he’s practically begging, dropping hints that he’d break if you just said the word, making it clear he’s only “doing this for you” while clearly waiting for the green light to give in.

vernon: he's “nah, i’m good” from the start. “you’re trying too hard.” but little by little, he catches himself glancing your way, biting his lip, feeling the itch just a bit more every time you walk by. he won’t admit it, but by week four, he’s giving you these longing looks when he thinks you aren’t looking.

chan: determined, but let’s be real, he’s also a bit naive about how tough it’ll be. if you teasw him, he’s practically falling apart every time you’re around. by the middle of the month, he’s so worked up he’s stammering just being near you, you catch him blushing like crazy when you touch him, and by the end of it, he’s practically begging you to let him break the rules.

[joejhang]

my aftg hot takes

most of these are pretty lukewarm but i'm gonna get flamed for them anyway but whatever. spoilers ??? ahead ??? idk read at ur own risk

i don't think andreil ever say i love you to each other; i feel like the discourse about this is virtually endless ever since nora said it but honestly her explanation was so valid??? they're such a show not tell couple it just makes so much sense for them to show the "i love you" in their actions than ever saying the words out loud. esp bc neither of them have ever really heard those words and have them mean anything real or true or actually loving. personally i think their little percentages and the "i hate you"'s and kisses and keys mean more to them than an "i love you" ever could. i'm not a purist on this tho i do think i could visualise it happening maybe somewhere along the road i just think nora's explanation for this is very very in line with canon andreil.

i don't hate thea muldani; i've made a post abt this but basically my thoughts around her are literally just: she's a human being, and she's never gonna be perfect. i also find it very...interesting how the fandom likes to flame thea (an explicitly stated woman of colour) for being "problematic" and a "terrible person/character" when she doesn't act all that different from andrew, neil and kevin (white men) ??? idk it seems a little strange to me bc she seems pretty on par with them on whatever moral compass this batshit crazy fandom has decided to impose on these fictional and very much morally ambiguous characters. anyway go check out my post i go a lot deeper into thea's character and why she does a lot of things wrong but i don't rlly think she's deserving of the insane amounts of hate she gets in the fandom.

i don't think andreil ever get married; this MIGHT be me projecting bc the idea of marriage is just a very complicated and rough concept in my mind but also just i feel like there's something so beautiful about andreil never really putting a label on their relationship??? like they never define it by calling the other their "boyfriend" or "husband" they just are. they have nothing "concrete" binding them like a marriage certificate but they choose to stay with each other through everything. idk it's real to me but again i'm not a purist people can do whatever they want.

i've said it before but i'll keep saying it till enough people hear me: the aftg fandom mischaracterises literally the main fucking characters; i'm mostly talking about andrew and ESPECIALLY neil here bc neil is not a sweet, sunshiney, oblivious, blushy softboy and andrew is not a cold, unemotional, stoic, "conceal don't feel" stone. since i've already bitched on and on about neil's mischaracterisation let's just talk about andrew for a sec. i think andrew is actually a deeply emotional person and is fully aware of the feelings he experiences. does he vocalise or express them often? no but more often than not they show themselves anyway. him crashing out after neil was kidnapped, letting himself get walked like a dog by neil for three books straight, choking allison for slapping aaron, idk i could go on. but yeah you get it.

i don't actually think neil is that oblivious; before people come at me like "but nora said!" or whatever yeah, i know she said he's as dense as a brick when it comes to people flirting with him. considering how much of the ec the aftg fandom likes to disregard allow me to disregard this little bit of it, yeah? this isn't me tryna impose my own projections onto nora's characters, this is lit just me tryna explain how i understand neil josten (he's my bsf btw). he literally clocks his feelings for andrew in trk (after his deep convo™ with nicky) but he just files it away for later bc he doesn't consider attraction or romantic interest anything to be thinking about considering he's got the mafia and his serial killer dad on his tail. i also don't really blame him for not catching onto andrew's feelings earlier (tho doesn't he get pretty fucking close during that one convo they have in exites in trk???? someone correct me if i'm wrong but) bc dude andrew was out here sending fucking mixed ass signals like bro was saying "you are a pipe dream" and "i hate you" in the same fucking conversations like??? neil has always taken andrew at face value and he's not about to question him now. he's also never confused or uncertain about nicky or marissa and what their comments about him meant, he just genuinely does not gaf about them so he doesn't acknowledge them or pay them any attention in his narration. i truly truly think his dismissal of all the advances made upon him in aftg were borne out of indifference, not obliviousness.

have already said this in detail but i don't think andrew's actually a misogynist; the wording doesn't feel right. i'd probably describe andrew's distrust of women (esp. those in motherly/mother roles) as a similar ingrained wariness that neil has for older men. this is something borne out of trauma and shitty experiences that takes time and trust to unlearn. nora says a lot of things the fandom disregards and for me, this is one of those things i'm a little iffy about. misogyny actually isn't reflected in andrew's actions at all, i'd say. does he respect women? no. but he doesn't respect anyone unless they've actually earned it. and among the people he does respect and care for there are women (renee, bee). he doesn't treat women any differently and obv doesn't think they're any weaker than men are (considering renee wipes the floor w him their first sparring sesh). andrew's an equal opportunity hater and i don't think he actually has any sexist or even misogynistic tendencies. i think what is there is just a slightly biased worldview of disliking/mistrusting mother figures, given his bad experiences w tilda and cass (they've left him w more long-term emotional damage that's probably rlly difficult and complicated for him to work through esp considering cass did love??? him and he did want her enough to be willing to suffer dr*ke to be close to her; there's more to it but for the sake of word count i won't go into it) but honestly it doesn't actually show that much??? if people wanna say he hates women, sure, but for one, he doesn't hate a lot of things he's just very indifferent to them and two, he holds a pretty similar apathetic distaste for most people and things, so it's not like a very big distinction. i also think the whole "no girls" thing w aaron was very much a personal thing, and his mistrust of katelyn probably came from aaron's past (apparently negative) experiences w other girlfriends and friendships in general. and if i remember correctly the deal wasn't even "no girls" it was just "family only" which is why aaron didn't make friends w the rest of the foxes either. i digress but i don't think saying "andrew isn't a misogynist" is robbing him of any nuance as a character.

i like nicky and honestly feel similarly towards him as i do about thea; he isn't perfect and never will be and i think while the way he acts towards neil and others (see: matt, kevin) is pretty untoward and inappropriate, i also do see where he's coming from, esp after aaron's explanation of it. that it's a defence mechanism coming from someone who's experienced a lot of prejudice and harm because of his sexuality. obv i think everyone can agree his assault on neil was fucked up but i think nora was right in saying that nicky was high and drunk and not rlly in his right mind at the time, and he does apologise and i'm pretty sure she also said he and neil work it out privately anyway. he's a messy character and definitely not perfect queer rep but again, he's pretty realistic, and i think he's honestly a rlly well-written and complex character.

[badger-tales]

Just Friends// G.W x Reader

a/n: somehow someway I've become a George Weasley fanfiction account

request:

hiii!!! :)))

could you do a george weasley x reader?? where its their 6th year (they’ve been best friends since their first year along with fred and lee) and they go to the yule ball together as friends and use “to avoid going through the trouble of asking other people” as an excuse(but they like each other) while fred and lee are just like “whatever” and teasing george when the readers gone. they go to the yule ball and go through the night normally but its full of fluffy interactions! and in the end they find themselves out in the courtyard having a snowball fight alone, and george throws a snowball to the readers face so the reader pretends to be hurt to get him back. so she hits him with another snowball when hes all like “are you okay??” and she runs and he chases her and eventually grabs hold of her and theyre sort of just like staring at each other , UNTILLLL!!! they see that theyre under a mistletoe and george is like “well its bad luck if we dont right??? but if you dont want to its fine” and hes all jumbling and messing up his words then the reader just kisses him??? if not that totally fine!! thank youuu🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽 also i love ur fics!!!

word count: 5.3k

The fire crackled warmly in the hearth, casting a golden glow that danced across the stone walls of the Gryffindor common room. The rich, woody scent of burning logs filled the space, mingling with the faint hint of spiced cider from a nearby group of second-years playing Exploding Snap. Laughter and chatter wove through the air, wrapping around the room like a comforting, invisible blanket. The holiday spirit pulsed through the castle, buoyed by the anticipation of the Yule Ball just days away.

George Weasley lounged on a plush armchair near the fire, one leg dangling over the armrest in a way that seemed both careless and deliberate. His unruly red hair caught the firelight, each strand illuminated in a halo of copper and gold. The light accentuated the constellation of freckles scattered across his cheeks, and a grin played at his lips—a grin that spoke of mischief, warmth, and something more undefined.

On the thick, woven rug beside him, y/n sat cross-legged, her fingers absently turning the pages of a well-worn copy of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6. The edges of the pages were soft from use, the spine creased with the familiarity of late-night study sessions. Yet, her eyes kept straying to George, drawn to the easy way he inhabited the space, the small quirks of his expression, the way his laughter seemed to light up even the darkest corners of the common room.

A slow smile tugged at her lips when he stretched and let out a dramatic, over-the-top yawn, his hand sweeping above his head before coming to rest on his chest as if he were an actor on stage. She bit back a laugh, tucking it behind a closed-lipped smile.

“You know,” George’s voice broke through her pretense, teasing and laced with mock seriousness, “if you keep pretending to read that, I’m going to start thinking it’s more interesting than my company.” He tilted his head just enough for their eyes to meet, the soft firelight casting a shadow that deepened the blue in his gaze.

She rolled her eyes, snapping the book shut with a decisive thud. The sound resonated between them, punctuated by the warmth of the fire and the laughter that rippled in the distance. 

“Maybe it is,” she countered, smirk firmly in place, though the playful glint in her eyes betrayed her. George’s grin widened, and he leaned forward, closing the small distance between them.

“Ouch, you wound me!” he exclaimed, pressing a hand to his chest in a performance that was almost believable. “Tell me then, oh wise one, who are you planning to dazzle at the Yule Ball?”

A snort of laughter escaped her as she reached out, giving him a light shove on the shoulder. 

“Dazzle? Please. I’m just trying to make it through the night without tripping over my own feet. Anyway, I’m going with you, remember?” Her voice softened, a slight flutter in her chest as she added, “Strictly as friends, so we don’t have to deal with the hassle of finding dates.”

George’s grin faltered, just for a heartbeat, the flicker of something unspoken passing over his features. His eyes searched hers for a brief moment, as if weighing the distance between what they were and what they might be. Then, just as quickly, the sparkle returned, and he gave a lopsided smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. 

“Right, strictly as friends. Merlin forbid we actually try to impress anyone, eh?”

The conversation hovered on the edge of something deeper, but before she could respond, a familiar duo bounded over, their presence an explosion of energy and sound. Fred, carrying two mugs of steaming hot chocolate, wore his signature wide grin, eyes darting between George and Y/n with a knowing glint that promised trouble.

“Strictly as friends, you say?” Fred mimicked, raising an eyebrow with an exaggerated arch that nearly disappeared into his hairline. He handed one of the mugs to Lee, who appeared behind him, chuckling.

“Convenient, isn’t it?” Lee dropped into the chair beside George, sprawling as though he had just sat down to witness the punchline of a good joke. “I’m honestly shocked neither of you’s been swooped up yet. Hogwarts’ most eligible pranksters.”

George rolled his eyes, the tension from before dissolving as he shot a pointed look at Fred. “Jealous, are we? Don’t worry, Fred, maybe someone will take pity on you and agree to go.”

Fred gasped, clutching his chest with an exaggerated display of mock indignation. “Hey! I’m a catch!” He tossed a wink at Y/n, who finally let out a laugh, the warmth of it mixing with the fire’s crackle. Lee grinned, eyes darting between them as if trying to memorize the scene.

The laughter faded, settling into a gentle hum of contentment. George’s eyes found Y/n’s again, lingering a beat longer than he intended. The soft glow of the fire reflected in both their gazes, warming the space between them. This time, neither of them looked away, a silent acknowledgment shared that neither Fred’s teasing nor Lee’s jokes could break.

The common room buzzed around them, filled with holiday anticipation, but in that moment, the rest of the world seemed to shrink, leaving just the two of them, sitting side by side by the fire, waiting for what was to come.

The warmth of the fire had faded, replaced by the cool embrace of night as the castle succumbed to silence. The dormitory was unusually quiet, a rare lull that made every creak and rustle more pronounced. Moonlight filtered through the window, casting long, pale ribbons across the stone floor and the edges of the four-poster beds. The soft, rhythmic snores of George’s roommates filled the space, punctuating the stillness, but George remained wide awake. His eyes were fixed on the dark canopy above, the fabric appearing almost black, an empty mirror of the jumble in his mind.

He let out a quiet sigh, the sound lost in the heavy silence, and shifted restlessly. The old wooden frame of the bed groaned softly as he swung his legs over the side, letting his feet touch the cold stone floor. The chill shot through him, biting and grounding at once. George leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and rubbed the back of his neck where tension had settled like an unwanted weight.

Images of her danced behind his closed eyelids—flashes of laughter shared between classes, the way her eyes sparkled when she spoke animatedly about Quidditch tactics, the exasperated smile that always appeared after his worst jokes. Each memory was a small blaze, adding warmth and confusion in equal measure to the storm in his chest.

His fingers curled into fists at the edge of the mattress as he tried to make sense of it. For so many years, it had been easy between them. Their friendship was the one constant amidst the chaos of pranks, homework, and the unpredictable pulse of Hogwarts life. But now… now, that ease felt different, weighted with things unsaid.

A soft rustle from across the room pulled George from his thoughts. Fred stirred, rolling over with a sleepy mutter before propping himself up on one elbow. In the dim moonlight, his eyes, though half-lidded, were sharp with the keen awareness that came naturally to him. 

“Pulling an all-nighter, are we?” Fred’s voice, low and slightly rough with sleep, cut through the quiet and made George jolt.

“Merlin, Fred,” George muttered, trying to shake off the surprise and the embarrassment that followed. “Go back to sleep.”

Fred sat up fully now, the sheets pooling around his waist as he squinted at his brother. 

“Can’t. Not when I’ve got you brooding like a lost Puffskein in the middle of the night.” He paused, letting a knowing smirk creep onto his face. “Let me guess. Our lovely just friend, who also happens to be your date for the Ball?”

“Shut it, Fred,” George snapped, but there was no real heat in his voice, only the defensive edge of someone caught in the middle of his own tangled thoughts. He felt the flush rise to his neck, unwelcome and unavoidable. He turned his head away, the pale shaft of moonlight casting a shadow across his face.

Fred’s smirk softened, the playful edge replaced with a kind of quiet understanding that only came out when it mattered most. 

“Oh, come on, George. It’s obvious. To everyone. Even Lee’s noticed,” he said, his voice low enough to keep from waking the others but laced with the weight of truth.

“Noticed what?” George’s question came out too quickly, betraying his own unease. The room seemed to shrink, the quiet pressing in, waiting for an answer he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear.

Fred’s eyes held an unusual seriousness as he leaned forward, arms crossed. 

“That you look at her like she’s a Snitch you’ll never catch,” he said, each word cutting through George’s resistance. “And don’t tell me it’s nothing, because I know you.”

The admission sat heavily on George’s chest, an iron weight pressing against his ribs. He let out a long breath, eyes drifting to the narrow window. The grounds outside glistened in the moonlight, serene and untouched, in stark contrast to the unrest inside him. “I don’t want to ruin things, Fred. What if… what if I’m just seeing something that’s not there? She’s my best mate. What if saying something makes it all… weird?”

Fred’s smirk softened into a smile, genuine and stripped of his usual bravado. “Mate, if there’s one thing I know, it’s that the two of you are already weird. Weirdly close, weirdly perfect for each other. And if you don’t do anything, you’ll regret it.”

The words settled like a spell, sparking something that George hadn’t let himself name. He remembered the way she had looked at him earlier that day, when they’d joked about the Ball. The slight hesitation before she spoke, the way her smile lingered as though holding back something more. Maybe Fred was right. Maybe the risk was worth it.

But still, the doubts whispered, coiling at the back of his mind. George clenched his jaw, shoving them aside for now. He couldn’t solve it here, not in the middle of the night, not with the quiet pressing around him like a shroud. But he’d see how the Yule Ball played out. Maybe, just maybe, the moment would come when the words that stuck in his throat found their way out.

With a sigh, George lay back down, the mattress shifting under his weight. The darkness above him seemed a little less oppressive now, edged with the silver glow of moonlight and the faint hum of hope. Sleep crept in slowly, and for the first time in a while, the thought of trying felt less like a gamble and more like something he owed to himself.

And with that flicker of determination, his eyes finally closed, surrendering to the quiet.

—

The Great Hall had been transformed into a breathtaking scene that seemed to step out of a dream, a winter wonderland alive with magic. Enchanted icicles hung like delicate chandeliers from the vaulted ceiling, catching the flicker of torches and glowing softly with an otherworldly light. Snowflakes, conjured with such precision that they looked as fragile as real ones, drifted slowly down, swirling and twirling in the warm air before dissolving just above the heads of the assembled students. The tall, frost-tipped trees that framed the room sparkled with twinkling lights, their branches glistening as if they had been dipped in liquid stardust. A silvery luminescence bathed the entire hall, painting everything in shades of moonlight and frost.

The soft strains of the orchestra tuning their instruments filled the air, each note threading seamlessly through the murmured conversations and bursts of laughter that bounced off the stone walls. The festive energy buzzed with anticipation, as though even the walls of Hogwarts held their breath for the night to unfold.

Standing at the entrance, George Weasley shifted restlessly, tugging at the cuffs of his dress robes. The rich maroon fabric complemented the warmth of his hair, which he’d attempted to tame, only for it to retain its usual unruly charm. His gaze swept across the room, eyes catching on familiar faces and the glitter of gowns, until he saw her.

Descending the staircase, she was a vision that made time slow for a heartbeat. Her robes, chosen with impeccable taste, draped gracefully and shimmered with each step, catching the subtle light in a way that made her seem almost luminous. The color framed her eyes perfectly, deepening their sparkle, and George felt his breath catch as a surge of something both exhilarating and nerve-wracking gripped him. He shook it off just as she reached the bottom, his signature grin returning to mask the momentary lapse.

“Wow,” he said, his voice coming out lighter than he intended. A hint of awe clung to the word, making it more sincere. “I mean, you clean up pretty well for someone who trips over their own feet.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she laughed, the sound warm and familiar. She reached out and pushed him playfully on the shoulder, the touch light but sending a jolt through him that he hoped didn’t show. “And you don’t look half bad yourself, Weasley. Surprising, really.”

He opened his mouth, a witty comeback on the tip of his tongue, when Fred and Lee appeared in a flurry of movement, carrying with them an air of exaggerated theatrics. Fred’s grin was wide, eyes alight with mischief as he clapped George hard on the shoulder, nearly making him stumble. “And here they are, the legendary duo of ‘just friends,’ about to set the dance floor ablaze with their platonic presence,” he announced, loud enough to draw a few amused glances from nearby students.

Lee leaned in, smirk firmly in place as he added, “Bet five Galleons they don’t make it through the night without a confession,” just loud enough for them to hear. Y/n’s eyes widened, caught between embarrassment and amusement, while George shot them a glare that failed to mask the redness creeping up his neck.

“Keep your bets to yourselves,” George retorted, though the good-natured grin that followed took the sting out of the words. He turned back to Y/n, offering his arm with an exaggerated flourish. “Come on, let’s show these other blokes how it’s done.”

She looped her arm through his, fingers brushing in a way that made the air between them feel electric. The dance floor was a swirl of color and light, robes sweeping over the stone with the rhythm of the music. George led her into the first song with a mixture of confidence and playful clumsiness, moving to the beat with a grin that hinted at barely contained laughter. He spun her out with dramatic flair, her robes flaring around her, before pulling her back into an exaggerated dip that earned them both a chorus of laughter.

“You do know this isn’t one of those comedic skits, right?” she teased, eyes glinting with amusement as she straightened, breathless and glowing from the dance.

“Are you sure?” George shot back, a grin spreading across his face as he glanced toward the staff table. “Because I swear I just saw Snape attempting to smile, and if that’s not a joke, I don’t know what is.”

She laughed, the sound bright and infectious, and for a moment, the rest of the hall seemed to fade away. It was just the two of them, surrounded by a world that had taken on a soft blur, wrapped in laughter and stolen glances. And though the night was just beginning, George felt that this was the moment he would replay in his mind for days to come.

As the evening stretched on, the energy in the Great Hall shifted. The jubilant buzz of earlier dances mellowed, and the orchestra transitioned to softer, slower melodies. The enchanted icicles above shimmered in time with the gentle strains of the music, their soft glow casting an ethereal light across the room. Around them, couples drew closer, heads bent in whispered conversations, eyes reflecting the delicate twinkle of overhead lights. It felt as though the entire hall had exhaled, settling into a quiet, shared moment of intimacy.

George’s hand, warm and confident, rested lightly at Y/n’s waist, guiding her in the slow, steady movements of the dance. The contact was familiar yet startling in its effect, sending a warmth coursing up her spine that was as surprising as it was comforting. Their fingers intertwined, a natural fit that felt as if they had been meant to find each other in this way all along. The world outside their small circle seemed to blur; the music, the other dancers, the gentle snowflakes still falling from the enchanted ceiling—all of it softened into a background hum.

“So,” George said, his voice dipping to match the quiet notes around them. The usual spark of humor was still there, but something else tempered it, something that made his eyes hold hers a fraction longer. “Are we still surviving this without any major catastrophes?”

Y/n’s smile wavered, not from hesitation, but from the weight of the moment. The gentle teasing in his tone didn’t hide the question in his eyes, the one that had hovered unspoken between them for longer than either could admit. She squeezed his hand, fingers pressing into the spaces between his, feeling the steady thrum of his pulse beneath the surface.

“Surviving?” she echoed, her voice softening as a true smile curved her lips. “I’d say we’re doing better than that.”

The room around them seemed to still, the air heavy with something unnameable but tangible. George’s breath caught, and for a heartbeat, he was lost in the depth of her gaze, where laughter, comfort, and something deeper blended seamlessly. His mouth opened, words hovering on the cusp—words that he’d felt but never dared to voice.

But before he could speak, a familiar, boisterous voice pierced the fragile bubble of quiet. “Oi! Save the staring contest for later, lovebirds. Some of us are trying to dance over here!” Fred’s shout cut through the air, followed by a chorus of amused snickers and chuckles. Lee waved from the sidelines, a conspiratorial grin plastered on his face.

The spell shattered in an instant, and a rush of heat flooded George’s cheeks, spreading down to his neck. Y/n’s face mirrored his, flushed and wide-eyed with the sudden attention. Laughter bubbled around them, but even as the moment dissolved, neither moved away. Their hands remained linked, the space between them unchanged despite the laughter rippling through the hall.

George looked at her, the glint of embarrassment giving way to something more resolute. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, softer this time, and the promise in his eyes was clear: Fred’s teasing hadn’t broken anything that couldn’t be rebuilt, that couldn’t grow stronger. The warmth in her returning smile told him she understood perfectly.

The orchestra shifted into another slow tune, the light above them flickering like stars, and the two of them remained standing there, sharing a look that spoke volumes in the quiet language they’d always shared. The dance resumed around them, but their moment, despite the interruption, was only just beginning.

The Great Hall had grown louder and more lively as the night went on, but George and Y/n found themselves drifting toward a quieter corner, taking breaks from the dancing to catch their breath. They sat at a table with Lee, who had been eyeing George with a look that spoke of knowing amusement. The night was rich with laughter, interrupted by soft music that played in the background and the hum of conversations.

George leaned back in his chair, the air around him still tinged with the warmth of dancing. “I’m going to get some drinks,” he said, pushing himself up. His fingers brushed against Y/n’s for just a moment—a touch so brief it felt like a secret shared between them. She looked up, her eyes following him as he made his way through the crowd.

Fred took advantage of the moment, leaning forward with his trademark mischievous grin, an eyebrow raised. “You know, he’s had that stupid look on his face every time you’ve walked into a room since first year, right?”

A sudden rush of warmth flooded Y/n’s chest, her heart pounding unexpectedly. She forced a roll of her eyes, schooling her features into a semblance of playful annoyance. “Nice try, Fred. You’re not nearly as subtle as you think you are.”

Fred’s grin only widened, a sparkle of satisfaction lighting up his eyes. “Just trying to help move things along. You’ll thank me one day,” he said with a wink that made her laugh despite herself.

George returned moments later, holding two cups of punch. He settled into his seat, exhaling as he handed one to her, the corners of his lips tugging up when he noticed Fred and Lee high-fiving behind his back. He didn’t say anything, but a faint smile betrayed that he was more aware than he let on. The table fell into easy conversation, laughter spilling into the air, each teasing comment laced with warmth. What had started as a casual agreement to attend the Ball together began to feel like something more substantial—something both thrilling and a little terrifying.

Later, with the night deepening and the hall still aglow with the silvery charm of the decorations, George and Y/n slipped outside. The cold air greeted them, sharp and crisp, tinged with the clean scent of snow. The muffled sounds of music and laughter from inside drifted behind them, a distant memory compared to the stillness of the courtyard.

The moon hung low, bathing the scene in a silver wash that turned the snow into a canvas of glistening frost. Tiny ice crystals adorned the bare branches, catching the light and sparkling like stars. Their footsteps crunched softly over the snow, breaking the quiet as they walked further out.

“I needed a break from all the dancing,” Y/n said, her breath visible in the cold as she shivered lightly. A grin broke across her face as she looked up at George. “Not that I’m complaining. Your moves have improved since third year, I’ll give you that.”

George laughed, the sound rich and familiar, curling warmly in the cold air. “Oh, you mean the time I tripped over your foot and we both ended up in a heap at McGonagall’s feet?” He raised an eyebrow, leaning slightly closer. “I’ll have you know, that was all part of my strategy. Always keep your partner guessing.”

She laughed, the sound echoing off the stone walls and filling the quiet space between them. Their breaths mingled in the cold, little puffs that vanished as quickly as they appeared. The shared silence felt different out here, stretched under the starlit sky, charged with an unspoken anticipation.

Suddenly, Y/n bent down, the snow cold but malleable in her hands. With a twist and a quick flick of her wrist, she sent a snowball flying. It hit George squarely in the chest, powder exploding against his maroon dress robes and leaving a wide-eyed look of surprise on his face.

“Oi!” he exclaimed, laughter bubbling up almost immediately as he processed what had happened. Y/n stepped back, giggling, her eyes bright with mischief as she prepared to dodge whatever came next.

“You were asking for it!” she teased, already crouching to gather more snow.

“I’ll show you asking for it,” George said, his eyes alight with playful menace as he hurled a snowball that whizzed past Y/n’s head, narrowly missing as she ducked and darted behind a stone pillar. The courtyard rang with their laughter, the sound sharp and joyous in the crisp night air, echoing against the ancient stone walls. Each well-aimed throw was met with shrieks of delight or exaggerated groans of mock defeat, and every duck and dodge sent powdery bursts of snow scattering into the moonlit air.

George’s eyes narrowed with a look of determination as he formed another snowball and launched it with precision. This time, it clipped her shoulder, sending a flurry of snow cascading down her back. She stumbled, half-laughing and half-gasping, arms flailing dramatically. George straightened, triumphant, hands resting on his hips as he called out, “Victory is mine!”

But Y/n wasn’t one to admit defeat so easily. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she collapsed to the ground, splaying herself out in an exaggerated pose of surrender. Her face was hidden by her hands, shoulders trembling as she suppressed a giggle. 

A sharp pang of worry wiped the grin from George’s face, his heart stuttering as he took a cautious step forward. “Hey, are you alright?” he asked, his voice softening with concern. He dropped to one knee in the snow beside her, brows knitting together as he reached out.

Y/n’s shoulders shook again, and before he could register the telltale signs of suppressed laughter, she sprang up. With a triumphant laugh, she pressed a handful of snow directly into his face, the cold biting against his flushed skin and leaving him spluttering.

“Oh, you’re going to pay for that!” George shouted, shaking snow from his hair as a wicked grin replaced his earlier concern. Any hesitation was gone as he lunged forward, his arms reaching out. She shrieked, twisting away, but George was quicker. He caught her around the waist, lifting her off the ground in a burst of momentum. They stumbled together, the snow crunching beneath their feet, laughter mingling and dying into the quiet as they found balance.

The world seemed to still as George’s arms remained wrapped around her, holding her close. Their breath came in soft, visible puffs, mingling in the chilled air between them. The playful glint in his eyes softened, replaced by something deeper as he looked at her. The moon hung heavy above them, casting a silvery glow that outlined their faces, highlighting every stray snowflake clinging to their hair and lashes.

Their eyes flickered upward at the same time, drawn by a subtle sparkle in the night. There, hanging from a gnarled branch, was a sprig of enchanted mistletoe, its leaves glistening softly with magic. The sight sent a jolt of something unnameable through George’s chest, and a flush crept up his neck, turning his cheeks a deeper shade than the cold could account for.

“Well,” George said, his voice lower now, rougher, as if it carried the weight of unspoken words. “It’s bad luck if we don’t, right? But I mean, only if you want to—”

Before he could finish, she tilted her face up, eyes bright and steady, and closed the space between them. The first touch of their lips was tentative, light as the snow that drifted around them, but the warmth that surged through them banished any chill. George’s arms tightened, drawing her closer as he deepened the kiss, the weight of years of unvoiced wishes finally, blissfully, falling away.

They pulled back, eyes wide and searching, both breathless and a little awed by the moment. George’s grin returned, crooked and full of a confidence that felt renewed. 

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

She laughed, soft and sure, the sound a balm in the quiet night. Leaning her forehead against his, she whispered, 

“Yes.” The word was simple, but it was everything. The snow around them felt warmer, the winter air humming with a magic that had nothing to do with spells or enchantments. It was the kind of magic spun from shared laughter, quiet glances, and the realization that sometimes, the bravest thing was to reach out and hold on.

The cold bit at their exposed skin, sharp and bracing, but it mattered less now than it had moments before. George kept one arm loosely draped around Y/n, the lingering echo of their kiss warming the air between them. The courtyard, blanketed in pristine snow and illuminated by the silvery glow of the moon, felt vast and secretive—a space carved out just for them. The world beyond seemed a distant echo, muted by the quiet splendor of the winter night.

Y/n shifted back slightly, just enough to tip her head up and meet George’s eyes. The familiar spark was there, the playful glint that always spoke of mischief, but now it held something more profound, a depth that made her pulse quicken. The silence that enveloped them was not awkward but steeped in the kind of understanding they’d always shared, waiting patiently for its moment to be acknowledged.

“So,” she said, a teasing smile playing on her lips, “I guess this means we’re not *just friends* anymore, huh?”

George chuckled, the sound deep and warm, reverberating in the stillness. “I don’t think we’ve been *just friends* for a while now.” His hand lifted, brushing away a stray snowflake that clung to her hair, his fingers lingering long enough to make her breath hitch and her heart thud with renewed force.

Before the silence could deepen further, a shout cut through the cool air, loud and unmistakable. George turned, half-shielding Y/n as he squinted into the dim glow of the castle. From one of the high windows, Fred and Lee leaned out, their faces barely illuminated by the flickering torchlight. Fred’s voice boomed, full of triumphant humor. 

“About time, you two! Do we need to send down a banner or something?”

Lee’s laughter rang out, sharp and infectious. “Make sure George doesn’t faint from all that bravery!”

Y/n’s laugh bubbled up, uncontainable and bright, while George groaned, the flush returning to his cheeks as he buried his face in one hand. 

“I’m going to have to lock them in a broom cupboard one of these days,” he muttered, half to himself.

“Oh, come on,” she said, catching his hand and pulling it away, revealing the lopsided grin he couldn’t suppress. “They’ve been rooting for you.”

George let out a melodramatic sigh, but the fondness in his eyes was undeniable. 

“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t let them hear you say that, or they’ll never let us live it down.”

The courtyard settled into silence once more as the laughter from the castle faded, leaving behind only the soft sounds of their breaths and the crunch of snow beneath their feet. The warmth between them felt as real and solid as the walls of the castle itself. George’s gaze softened, his voice dropping to a more serious note, carrying the weight of an admission. 

“You know, I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time. Kiss you, I mean.”

Her eyes met his, the teasing spark replaced by something sincere, a smile that spoke more than words. 

“I know,” she whispered, the honesty in her voice brushing against him like the lightest of touches. “Me too.”

Above them, a gentle snowfall began again, tiny flakes drifting down as if the sky itself had chosen to mark the moment. George tightened his hold, tucking her closer as they began to walk back toward the castle. Their footsteps left twin trails in the snow, side by side, a quiet testament to what had just unfolded.

“Think we’ll survive the teasing tomorrow?” she asked, the twinkle in her eyes mirrored by the soft glow of the moon.

George’s grin widened, confidence bubbling back to the surface. 

“Not a chance,” he said, laughter underlining his words. “But it’ll be worth it.”

The warmth of the castle loomed ahead, its glow spilling out onto the snow as they stepped inside, bringing with them the magic of the night. Behind them, the snow fell gently, erasing their tracks and leaving only the memory of a story that had finally, beautifully, begun.

[munsonsmixtapes]

hellooo could you write something that goes like teacher eddie munson hooked up with student reader and they don’t talk with eachother anymore and the reader is sad because she thinks that he doesn’t care about her anymore and sees chrissy flirting with him and so she thinks that he’s in a relationship with chrissy and she avoids him every now and then but in the end eddie and the reader gets back together (PLEASE WRITE THIS IM DESPERATE I LOVE UR WORK BTW🥰🥰)

You knew the whole thing was wrong from the very beginning, but you couldn’t help it. Him being older and your teacher made him that much more appealing. It was just once, but it lived in your head rent free every second of every day. You can still hear his moans ringing in your ear and as much as you try your best to chase the high, you just couldn’t. You wanted to get over him by getting under someone else, but it was impossible. 

Especially when you saw him every week when you sat in his class. Every time you saw him as his podium, images of him bending you over it as he fucked you from behind, telling you just how bad of a girl. You could practically still feel the sting of where he smacked your ass over and over, making it damn near impossible to focus on anything he was saying. 

You hated that you had fallen for him so easily. But he didn’t seem to feel the same as he had never called you after you had given him his number. And seeing him flirting with Chrissy Cunningham after class and the way he was staring at her, you knew that whatever you and Professor Munson had was over. 

You don’t know why, but you get it in your head that they’re together as you watch them, slowly making your way towards the door. They’re giggling about something and you can’t help but feel your blood boil, wanting to tell them to at least have the decency to do that in his office.

But you don’t. You can’t without revealing that you had a thing with him previously. So you flee the room and head down the hall, grateful that you don’t have anymore classes so you can go home and pout. You know it’s silly, and maybe a little stupid, but you got attached to him and even though he had every right to see whoever he wants, it hurts. Especially since the girl he’s seeing is another student.

So you go home and drown yourself in ice cream and tears as you watch the movie Eddie had put on that night. You just can’t get yourself to let go of him. You don’t know why since he was quick to throw you aside for someone else. And that got you thinking about how many other girls he had done that to. 

You’re about to storm down to his office when there’s a knock at your door. You slowly get up to answer it, unsure of who would show up at that hour and you start to think you’re hallucinating when you look through the peephole and see Eddie on the other side. 

You unlock the door and rip it open, feeling your heart suddenly melt as he puts on that smile that always makes your knees weak. But it quickly falters once he takes in your tear stained cheeks. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asks, his voice soft, and you hate how easy it is for you to forgive him. You feel so pathetic, hating how easy it is for him to play you. 

“Nothing,” you turn your head away from him, crossing your arms over your chest. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk,” he replies, reaching out to take your hand, but you step away out of his reach. 

“About what? You really shouldn’t be here,” you tell him. “Chrissy wouldn’t like it.” 

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow at your words. What does Chrissy have to do with any of this? He had seen you watch the two of them after class, but it had been nothing but a student talking to a teacher. He doesn’t even see her like that anyway as he only has eyes for you. 

Just when you think the whole thing can’t get any worse, Eddie laughs. He laughs. And the sound echoes in your brain, making you somehow feel even more embarrassed. 

“What are you talking about?” He asks, the laughter dying down into a light chuckle. “Chrissy and I aren’t together. I-I came over here to see you.”

“Really? And for what reason would that be for exactly?” You ask and Eddie laughs again. He hates that your mad at him and is trying his best to lighten the mood. 

“To see you,” he says as if it should be obvious and it is. “I wanted to tell you how good of a time I had the other night.” He’s been thinking about it ever since and he knows he should have said something earlier, but he had assignments to grade and time just got away from him. But he’s here now and really hopes that you’ll give him a second chance.

“The other night, as in over two weeks ago? You couldn’t have just texted me that?” 

“I got a new phone and a lot of the numbers from my old one didn’t transfer over.” He holds up the phone he had in his jacket pocket and you notice that it’s completely different from the one you had put your phone number into. 

“Eddie,” you sigh, stepping closer to him. “I’m so sorry. I feel so stupid.” And you do, so much so that you almost want to run. But you can’t as his hands grab onto your waist, pulling you closer.

“No,” he shakes his head. “I would be mad if the roles were reversed. So I don’t blame you at all. And the real reason I came over was to ask you out. Because I like you and don’t want what we have to be a one night stand.” 

“I don’t either,” you reply and he pulls you in for a kiss, the two of you smiling into it as you pull him inside, slamming the door behind you as you lead him to the bedroom where you spend the rest of the night until the early morning, whispering “I love you’s” over and over until they didn’t even sound like words anymore.

[pleasedontcareaboutme]

It's missing my father hours rn so imma just dump a bunch of pictures here and cry

( sorry i don't know the source of anything I just had them on my phone)

(also dont read the tags i just need to let it out lol)

[codacheetah]

It's deeply important to me that Loop kind of sucks

[boxwinebaddie]

hi friends! sorry this isn't content, i just like to keep you updated.

my bipolar is in a gnarly depression down swing right now which makes it really hard to write even though there is so much i want to get done. like, i have been trying to write for the past couple of days and i just write so much and say nothing and delete everything.

next week, my lead teacher for kinder will be out for the next three days and while i am excited to lead, i am extremely nervous to run an entire classroom by myself especially when the heat has been insane. so i've been frazzled and probably will be for a lot of next week. </3

all this to say, i am very sorry that not a lot is going on; it's not for lack of trying, but i'm just having a lot of trouble putting on a brave face and am upset with the way my content is turning out. ( not to complain more but i think i developed a weird skin condition from all the sweat and stress i'm under so i'm just uncomfy and sad. )

i will try to post when i can, i am really looking forward to my asks and i am glad you all still care about my stuff -- i am very passionate about that and about all of you.

if you can...also, please be gentle with me. i know i'm just a girl on the internet and it doesn't happen often, but sometimes the way that i am addresed in the box is...not super paitent or nice. if you do send in ask, please think before you do so and remember that i am on the other side reading it and that i am a little fragile.

especially about my appearance ( i cannot look in the mirror, i feel ghastly ) and really do not like getting yelled or spoken to with a tone of aggression. again...not often, but it does make me sad.

but i love you all v much. i hope you all heal and i hope to post soon, but my face is swollen and i haven't smiled in a couple days because when i get really sad i can't emote properly. but my heart smiles for all of you. thank you for your love and your light.

-uncle nina

[starlooove]

Do ppl genuinely think jinx blew up the council for the liberation of zaun

[unagrancantidaddepanes]

anyways all my homies love felix fathom, mf was doing what the social services could never do ❤️❤️❤️ king shit

[deus-ex-mona]

i’m gonna be s o o o o annoying about chuucon come 12 june

[rucow]

the real way i know im a 7H sun and not a 8H sun (my exact time of birth is unknown) is that ive always been enamored with sagittariuses with heavy neptune aspects/pisces placements, but it never clicked to me that im also jupiterian/neptunian (im a pisces sun & jupiter), like... ive been solely focused on seeing the beauty, optimism, and good in others, but i only started seeing those same traits in myself once i saw myself in my ideal partners and related myself to them, like a mirror! 😭 silly goose!!

[pepprs]

lmaooooo i think i need to quit teaching forever and also bury myself in a hole. lol

[mantisgodsdomain]

Winning a prize personally by being someone's "well, this trope isn't usually my style, but i know this author is Really Good at writing so i'll check it out anyways" author

[pygmi-says-hi]

STOP DOING THIS IN INJURY FICS!!

Bleeding:

Blood is warm. if blood is cold, you’re really fucking feverish or the person is dead. it’s only sticky after it coagulates.

It smells! like iron, obv, but very metallic. heavy blood loss has a really potent smell, someone will notice.

Unless in a state of shock or fight-flight mode, a character will know they’re bleeding. stop with the ‘i didn’t even feel it’ yeah you did. drowsiness, confusion, pale complexion, nausea, clumsiness, and memory loss are symptoms to include.

blood flow ebbs. sometimes it’s really gushin’, other times it’s a trickle. could be the same wound at different points.

it’s slow. use this to your advantage! more sad writer times hehehe.

Stab wounds:

I have been mildly impaled with rebar on an occasion, so let me explain from experience. being stabbed is bizarre af. your body is soft. you can squish it, feel it jiggle when you move. whatever just stabbed you? not jiggly. it feels stiff and numb after the pain fades. often, stab wounds lead to nerve damage. hands, arms, feet, neck, all have more motor nerve clusters than the torso. fingers may go numb or useless if a tendon is nicked.

also, bleeding takes FOREVER to stop, as mentioned above.

if the wound has an exit wound, like a bullet clean through or a spear through the whole limb, DONT REMOVE THE OBJECT. character will die. leave it, bandage around it. could be a good opportunity for some touchy touchy :)

whump writers - good opportunity for caretaker angst and fluff w/ trying to manhandle whumpee into a good position to access both sites

Concussion:

despite the amnesia and confusion, people ain’t that articulate. even if they’re mumbling about how much they love (person) - if that’s ur trope - or a secret, it’s gonna make no sense. garbled nonsense, no full sentences, just a coupla words here and there.

if the concussion is mild, they’re gonna feel fine. until….bam! out like a light. kinda funny to witness, but also a good time for some caretaking fluff.

Fever:

you die at 110F. no 'oh no his fever is 120F!! ahhh!“ no his fever is 0F because he’s fucking dead. you lose consciousness around 103, sometimes less if it’s a child. brain damage occurs at over 104.

ACTUAL SYMPTOMS:

sluggishness

seizures (severe)

inability to speak clearly

feeling chilly/shivering

nausea

pain

delirium

symptoms increase as fever rises. slow build that secret sickness! feverish people can be irritable, maybe a bit of sass followed by some hurt/comfort. never hurt anybody.

ALSO about fevers - they absolutely can cause hallucinations. Sometimes these alter memory and future memory processing. they're scary shit guys.

fevers are a big deal! bad shit can happen! milk that till its dry (chill out) and get some good hurt/comfort whumpee shit.

keep writing u sadistic nerds xox love you

ALSO I FORGOT LEMME ADD ON:

YOU DIE AT 85F

sorry I forgot. at that point for a sustained period of time you're too cold to survive.

pt 2

also please stop traumadumping in the notes/tags, that's not the point of this post. it's really upsetting to see on my feed, so i'm muting the notifs for this post. if you have a question about this post, dm me, but i don't want a constant influx of traumatic stories. xox

[ace-with--a-mace]

i think ive been in a constant state of melancholy

[toomuchdickfort]

I should be allowed as a tiefling to make obvious comments to wyll like ‘woag ur sharper than I am, cool’ and have him be like. I mean. I did. come about it by different means yes. Alas, I’ll just imagine t’evye staying the obvious to his companions and the just sorta blinking to try and figure out if she’s wanting to hear their thoughts or really only just noticing it