#george mackay imagine

[storiesforallfandoms]

early morning ~ will schofield;1917

word count: 2203

request?: yes!

@lilah1020​: “Imagine Will schofield fluffy smut with wife reader”

description: on a rare occasion when they wake up before their children, they decide to take advantage of the time to be intimate

pairing: will shofield x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut (oral - f receiving, unprotected p in v, praising, dirty talk)

masterlist (one, two, three)

Having two children - especially two young children at that - meant very little “alone time”. The girls were usually the first ones awake in the house, and thus would run into their parents’ room to wake them up. Between work, house chores, and looking after the kids, there wasn’t much time for Will and (Y/N) to be alone. And by the end of the night, when the kids were bathed and in bed, they were just too tired for any form of physical intimacy.

It was hard. Not that either of them thought they needed physical intimacy for their marriage to work. After their oldest daughter was born, they knew sex was going to be few and far between, and they definitely knew that’s how it would be after their second daughter was born. They were aware of it, and they were more than okay with that sacrifice at first. But the complete lack of sex had been hard for both of them.

It was a rare morning where (Y/N) wasn’t woken by a tiny body jumping on her. Her eyes slowly blinked until the sleep was completely out of them. The room was quiet. In fact, the whole house was quiet. No small voices yelling, no hushed voices beside her as Will tried to convince the girls to let their mother sleep. Nothing. Just silence.

(Y/N) rolled over to see Will sleeping peacefully beside her. She smiled as she looked at his handsome face. Every day she thought to herself about how lucky she was to have him; how lucky she was to have their little family.

As if sensing her eyes on him, Will slowly stirred. He opened one eye, then smiled as he closed it again. “Good morning, love.”

“Good morning,” she responded.

“Where are the girls?”

“Still asleep.”

Will had stretched his arms out, but paused after hearing her response. “Really?”

(Y/N) nodded. “Listen.”

They both paused, taking in the silence of the house. Will looked shocked at the revelation. “They’re asleep? They actually are not awake before us for once?”

(Y/N) giggled and nodded again. “I guess they were really tired after last night.”

The night before, the Schofields had been to a neighborhood celebration that included a barbecue and fireworks to end the night. Will and (Y/N) had let the girls stay up late so they could enjoy the festivities. By the time they got home, the adrenaline (and the sugar) from the night was finally wearing off and, within seconds, they were asleep.

Seemed it was enough to keep them asleep past their usual wake up time.

Will looked like he was still trying to understand the fact that his daughters were actually still asleep. (Y/N) was still pretty shocked herself. She was almost convinced that she was dreaming, and she would soon actually be woken up by her two energetic daughters.

“Love,” Will said.

“Yes, darling?” (Y/N) responded.

Will took her face in his hands and pulled her into a kiss. It was passionate and needy from the moment their lips met. (Y/N) took hold of Will’s shirt, clenching the material between her fists as she held him to her. One of his hands moved from her face to slip under the night shirt she was hearing. When his hand touched her bare skin, it ignited her. It left a fiery, tingling feeling in his wake. One that trailed down her body and between her legs. She was yearning for him. She needed him so desperately, just from kissing and a few gentle touches.

Will slowly laid (Y/N) on her back, his lips still attached to hers. When he pulled away, she tried to follow him. He chuckled and eased her back down on the bed. He moved to her neck, kissing the soft area all over until he found the spot that made her whimper. He kept his focus on that spot, sucking and biting until he was sure he had left marks. He pushed up her night gown to expose her breasts. She gasped as he put his mouth to one of them, circling her nipple with his tongue. His hand fondled her other breast, rolling the nipple until it was hard and pointed, then took that one in his mouth as well.

A moan slipped from her lips. She quickly covered her mouth as Will’s mouth let go of her breast to shush her.

“Sorry,” she said in a whisper. She put her hand back over her mouth as his kissing continued downwards.

He left wet, open mouth kisses over her stomach and down towards her mound. Her breath hitched and a muffled whimper came from around her hand at the feeling of his hot breath against her already dripping wet pussy. Desperation was rising within her. She was so close to begging for him to touch her, she didn’t even care how he’d do it. She just needed to feel him, to have him pull that release from her again like he always knew how to. But she didn’t have to beg, because he wasted no time in attaching his lips to her clit.

A gasp ripped from (Y/N)’s lips, her hand moving away from her mouth to grab hold of Will’s hair. She gently tugged it by accident, but it earned her a moan from him. The vibration from it sent shockwaves through her body. She bit down on her bottom lip to try and keep her moans quiet, but it felt almost impossible. She hadn’t felt this good in a long time, and it was hard to not let that out. His tongue against her felt heavenly as he licked long stripes from her pussy to the tip of her clit.

“F-Fuck,” (Y/N) whispered. “God, Will, that feels so fucking good.”

Will peered up at his beautiful wife, writhing in pleasure above him. Her eyes were shut and her head was thrown back, with one hand in his hair and the other gripping the sheets beneath her. She looked angelic, and her quiet noises of pleasure definitely sounded like they were coming straight from a heavenly angel. He wanted to be inside her desperately. He needed to feel her warm walls around his throbbing hard cock. But he wanted to make her feel good first, because he wasn’t sure how long he’d last once he was inside her.

“Are you close, love?” he asked her, continuing to stroke her clit with his thumb while his mouth was absent. She nodded, her eyes still tightly shut. “Look at me, my love.”

She managed to force her eyes open to look down at Will. He smiled at her face, already fucked out and he hadn’t even fucked her yet.

“Cum for me, my love,” he coaxed. “Cum for me and I’ll give you what you want.”

The minute his mouth pressed against her again, she did exactly as he requested. Her head fell back onto the pillow again, and she quickly clapped a hand over her mouth as the pleasure tore through her. Will lapped at her pussy, taking every last drop of her juices as if he needed it to survive. Her body trembled so violently that she wasn’t sure it would ever stop.

Her head was fuzzy, in a good way. She felt like she was on cloud nine as Will kissed up her body again. He placed a sweet yet passionate kiss against her lips. She could taste herself on his mouth, which just turned her on again.

Will stood from the bed just long enough to pull his boxers off and kick them to the side. (Y/N) all but yanked him back to the bed when his lower half was naked. His hard cock pressed against her thigh as his lips found hers again. Her hips bucked in an attempt to gain some friction between them.

Will chuckled. “Impatient thing, aren’t you?”

“We don’t have long,” she reminded him. “And you promised to give me what I wanted.”

“You’re right, I did promise that.” His tip nudged her entrance, earning him another gasp. “And I intend on keeping that promise.”

He pushed into her slowly, letting both of them feel every inch of his cock filling her up. He kissed her, letting his mouth swallow her moans. He lowered himself so he was pressing against her as much as he could without crushing her, resting his elbows on either side of her head.

“You feel so good,” he mumbled against her lips. “I almost forgot how good this pussy felt.”

“Please, Will,” she begged. “Make love to me.”

He kissed her. “You don’t have to beg, love. I’ll give you exactly what you want.”

When he slowly pulled his hips back and thrust them forward at the same pace, (Y/N) could’ve swore she saw stars. It was the simplest movement, but it brought so much pleasure that it made her head spin. She grabbed at his shoulders to try to ground herself.

“You’re so beautiful,” Will whispered as he continued his slow thrusts. “God, I’ve missed seeing you like this. You’re so gorgeous when you’re all wrapped around my cock like this.”

Her only response was another moan. Will decided not to quiet her this time. He missed hearing these sounds. He wished he could record them to have with him whenever he was away from her.

He kissed her, sweetly. As if he was giving her a good morning kiss and wasn’t buried deep inside of her.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you, too,” she responded. It was the only coherent thought in her head. “I love you so much. Fuck, Will.”

“Do you feel good, my love?” She nodded. “Do you think you could cum one more time for me? I promise I’ll fill you up after.”

She nodded again. Will reached between them and started rubbing circles against her clit as his thrusts started picking up. (Y/N) barley had time to register her orgasm before it was already upon her. Will pressed his lips roughly against hers to stop her loud cries of pleasure. Feeling her tightening around him made him cum shortly after she did, his thrusts stilling so he could fill her up like he promised.

They weren’t sure how long they were tangled together, coming down from their climaxes. All concepts of life outside of this moment was lost on them. They just knew the lightheaded feeling of post-orgasm bliss. Will was pressing kisses against (Y/N)’s neck and jaw. She sighed, content to stay this way as long as possible.

Which, unfortunately for them, did not last nearly long enough.

The creaking of a door alerted them first. Their daughters’ bedroom door had always made a noise when it opened. Will had been saying for as long as they could remember that he would fix the door, but had never gotten around to it. Now it seemed to be their saving grace, the only indication that they had mere seconds before two little girls ran into their room.

Will pulled out of (Y/N) and tumbled onto the floor. (Y/N) stifled her laugh at his pained expression as she fixed her night shirt, covering the sticky mess between her legs. Will frantically grabbed for his boxers and pulled them back on just as the two girls rounded the corner and into the room. Their youngest daughter immediately jumped into bed, while their oldest looked at their father in concern.

“Daddy, why are you on the floor?” she asked.

“I - uh - I fell out of bed,” Will responded. “Got all tangled in the sheets as I was trying to get up and fell right off.”

“Daddy is a little clumsy this morning,” (Y/N) added.

“Is it because you were up so late last night?” the youngest girl asked.

Will nodded. “Yes. Yes, it’s definitely because of last night.

Their oldest got onto the bed with (Y/N). (Y/N) put both arms around her girls and pulled them close to her, kissing them on top of their heads.

“You both slept in pretty late,” she said.

“Because we stayed up late,” the youngest said. “Like grown ups do.”

“Don’t get used to it,” (Y/N) said. “You’re not growing up any time soon. In fact, I’ve decided that you’ll both be my little girls forever.”

Both girls started to speak at the same time, protesting their mother’s decision. Will chuckled as he leaned across the bed to also kiss his daughters.

“What do you girls say we head downstairs and start making breakfast? Let mummy get herself cleaned up for the day.”

He shot her a look that made her face heat up. The girls agreed and bounded out the door again before Will could follow them. He and (Y/N) shared a look before chuckling. Will leaned in to kiss (Y/N) one more time before reluctantly tearing away from her and their bed.

“I’m keeping them up until midnight tonight,” he said as he started walking out the door. “Maybe then I’ll have you all to myself tomorrow morning.”

#will schofield #will schofield imagine #will schofield x reader #will schofield smut #george mackay #george mackay imagine #george mackay x reader #george mackay smut #1917 #imagine #one shot #smut #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

[bi-bard]

Coming Back for You - Toby Nealey Imagine [I Came By]

Title: Coming Back for You

Pairing: Toby Nealey X Reader

Word Count: 2,004 words

Warning(s): **HEY, LOOK HERE!!!** kidnapping, hostage situation, mention of abuse (physical/emotional, but ultimately vague), mute reader

Summary: Toby finds himself in a far more dangerous situation than he ever meant to be involved in. However, he is saved by an unexpected source. Now, he is determined to return the favor.

Author's Note: I meant to write a story about this character a long time ago, and someone just recently reminded me of it, so I figured it was better late than never.

Also, I'm adding lore to Hector's story so that this story makes sense. I'm just gonna ask that you don't question me about it and just let it exist.

Toby Tag List: @dream-this-nightmare-over

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

The first thing I heard was a thud on the floor.

At first, I assumed that it was just Hector moving around. But that wouldn't make sense. There was no sound after the thud. Hector always made a point to tell me when he was home. The door would shut and then he would call up to me. Or he would have warned me beforehand that he was bringing home a guest, so I could make myself scarce while he enjoyed his evening.

Once I knew that it wasn't Hector, I walked to the door. I don't know what my plan was. To confirm my suspicions, find a phone so I could call the police, try to plead for help, or simply warn the poor soul that had been unfortunate enough to come in. Maybe it was all of the above. Or maybe I had just gotten so lonely that facing down some burglar felt comforting in a way.

My hand paused on the doorknob. I stared at it.

Hector's words rang in my head: "You are not to leave this room until I come and get you. No matter what."

I had learned better than to not heed his warning. Not that he would ever call it a warning. If I had to guess, then I would say that he probably saw it as an act of protection or love. However, I liked to avoid guessing about him. He never liked when he believed that I was assuming things about him.

I had been a permanent guest in Hector's home for a few years by then. A silent presence. I never knew what I was meant to be in his mind. But I guess at some it didn't truly matter anymore.

I was to the point that I could barely remember a life before him. I just knew that I had one... and that I was never getting it back.

I could still remember the times when I would cry every night, sobbing as I shook. I would beg him to just let me go... or to simply kill me and let me have some peace. He didn't like when I did that. He said it made him feel bad for merely offering me a better life. I don't know if he had truly forgotten that he less offered me this life than he forced me into it or if he was just trying to ignore that he had taken me from my family.

It didn't take long for me to learn that he wanted silence from me. I had trained myself to be silent. Quiet at all times. I communicated in nods and head shakes and pointing and kind, gentle smiles that seemed to quell Hector's anger for the time being. It was just less of a reminder that I wasn't truly who he wanted me to take the place of.

It only took a few more sounds of the creaking floor for me to say hell with the consequences. I opened the door slowly and leaned my head out through the doorway. I couldn't see anything from there.

I slowly walked down the stairs, taking note to avoid the creaking steps. I paused, waiting for some sign of a person. There was nothing.

And then, there was a crash. A distinct sound of someone stumbling over something and then falling.

It was coming from the basement. My heart dropped. I had been avoiding the basement for a long time. It made me think of my crying and my begging. I didn't like being around it.

I quickly opened the door, seeing a man hurrying to stand a few steps away from the bottom.

He looked up at me. I squinted at the feeling of his headlamp shining in my eyes. He had all dark clothes on. He was a stranger. Definitely a stranger.

And he looked scared.

I knew what he had seen. I had seen it too.

My head perked up when I heard the gate opening.

It was as if every reaction after that was instinctual. I never considered myself a hero or anything great, but I found myself focusing on nothing more than getting that man out of the house.

I ran down the few steps between us before grabbing his hand and dragging him upstairs with me.

I was quick, as quiet as ever as I dragged him up the main stairs and up to my room. I pushed him inside and quietly closed the door. I continued shoving him to the window. I pointed at it, trying to get him to go to it.

There was a time when the window was sealed. I had managed to get it undone a long time ago but learned better than to try to get out through it. Pavlov's dog and all that.

"Is he... Is he keeping you here," the man asked.

I didn't have time to answer his questions, I just pushed him again.

"How long have you been here?"

I waved him away.

"(Y/n)! I'm home," Hector called from downstairs.

I panicked, pushing the stranger again. I was silently begging him to go. Save himself.

He finally listened to himself, opening the window and beginning to climb out. He turned around in the windowsill.

"I'm coming back for you," he promised.

"(Y/n)?" Hector called again.

"My name's Toby," the stranger explained. I furrowed my eyebrows, trying to figure out why he needed to tell me that. "I'll... I'll be back."

He quickly climbed out of the window. I shoved it closed as soon as I knew that he was out of it completely. I took a deep breath before going to step out into the hall. I walked down the steps, stopping a few steps from the bottom.

"There you are," Hector said. "Are you okay?"

I nodded, furrowing my eyebrows in the hopes of acting like I didn't know why he would be asking.

"Good, good," he muttered. He looked flustered. Worried. He knew that someone had been there. "You can go back to your room."

I nodded again, turning and going back up the stairs.

I let out a shaky breath as soon as my door closed behind me.

Toby was the first person I had seen other than Hector in a very long time. I found myself scared. Terrified. But I couldn't quite figure out what I was scared about. Was it the idea of Hector finding out that I had let some stranger escape after seeing his secret? Or the idea that I may never see Toby again and all that he said about coming back had been a lie? Or was it fear over what life would be like after I finally got out of that house and back to the real world?

I thought that I was going to have time to forget about Toby. I thought it was best to lose the hope early. Some part of me believed that it was going to save me from some pain in the long run.

How foolish of me.

The next night, I heard a noise downstairs again.

And again, I knew it wasn't Hector. He had left for the night. He didn't give me many details, just that he was going out.

I heard the stairs creaking as someone walked up them. Closer and closer to my door. I backed up toward the wall behind me, pressing my hand over my mouth.

It opened slowly.

On the other side of the door was Toby.

My hand fell away as my mouth fell open in shock. He was there. He came back. He was telling me the truth.

"It's okay, it's just me," he held up his hands. "I'm here to get you out."

I furrowed my eyebrows.

He held out his hand. "Come on."

I stared at his hand. There were a million and one ideas going through my mind. I gave up on the idea of being saved a long time ago. I knew the pull that Hector had. I knew the position of power he was in and after so long being in that room... in that house... I just gave up on hoping.

What was I meant to do when someone was finally giving me a chance?

I couldn't get myself to move.

"We don't have much time," Toby said, walking over to me. "We need to hurry. I... I have a place for you. A safe one. We can get you some food and clothes and stuff. And then, we can go to the police and you can explain what happened. Then, the basement gets found and no one else gets hurt."

Wow. He had thought the whole thing through.

"Please... come with me," he pushed one last time, hand outstretched.

I took a deep breath before slowly placing my hand in his. He grinned and started pulling me to the door. I only stopped him long enough for me to pull on some shoes.

After that, Toby dragged me back down the stairs and outside of the house the same way that he had supposedly come in.

After making it through the house and the garden, Toby started running down the road.

I tried to keep up with him, but it had been a long time since I had needed to run any kind of distance. It was also the first time I had truly been outside in years. The cold air made my lungs burn and my legs felt as if they were going numb underneath me.

But then, I felt a smile forming. The first genuine smile I had experienced in so long that I had forgotten it had existed. Along with that smile came tears. Tears of relief as I felt myself finally becoming free again. It was like chains were falling off of my body with every step I took.

I don't know how long we had gone before Toby finally slowed down. I just knew that I didn't recognize anything in the world around me. I continued walking with him, looking around at all of the buildings surrounding me. I never thought about how much the world around me had changed while I wasn't looking. It was overwhelming.

"So, umm... we're gonna stay with my mom. Just until we track down your family," Toby explained. I found my steps slowing down as I watched him. "She... She'll be alright with it once I tell her what's going on."

I stopped completely. Toby was forced to stop when I did because he still had his hand in mine. He furrowed his eyebrows at me.

"What is it?"

I stopped, still unable to form the words that I needed.

"You're safe now. I promise. He's never gonna-"

Toby stopped talking when I stepped forward and hugged him. I wrapped my arms around him tightly, shutting my eyes as firmly as I could. I felt his arms wrapping around me. He kept mumbling that I was safe. That he was going to keep me safe.

"Hey," he muttered. He pulled back, hands touching my upper arms. "We should keep going."

I nodded, letting him reach down and grab my hand again.

We didn't have to sprint away again. Instead, we walked. We walked in a comforting silence.

I took a deep breath. The air was crisp. It was cold against my skin. I never knew how much I would miss a feeling like that until now.

The only part of me that didn't feel the cold of the world around me was my hand. It was warm, Toby's hold on it serving as a protective shield of sorts. There was something about his touch that brought me a sense of peace that I had never known. One that I may not know for a long time after that night when I went to the police.

But I could cherish it for the time being.

And I could love it for the time being.

And that felt like it was good enough for now.

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#imagine #fanfiction #x reader #i came by imagine #i came by fanfiction #i came by x reader #toby nealey imagine #toby nealey fanfiction #toby nealey x reader #george mackay imagine #george mackay fanfiction #george mackay x reader

[george-mackay-macfine]

I'm back into the writing mood after some heavy shit.

Now opening up the requests for Will Poulter, Jeremy Allen White, Ben Hardy (and their characters) as well as the usual roster.

Will and JAW girlies slid into the DM's

#george mackay #george mackay imagine #george mackay fanfic #georgemackay #george mackay x reader #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill x yn #henry cavill imagine #jeremy allen white #will poulter

[marrziy]

Jack Marrowbone x Reader

"Decisão de não deixar partir"

• Filme: O Segredo de Marrowbone (2017)

• Gênero: sad

• Sinopse: você está errado e carrega a culpa nas costas, mas o erro em questão convém a você e ao seu amor, então, com grande pesar, você se permite errar, aceitando um futuro miserável para evitar uma tragédia.

• Palavras: 428

1° pessoa - passado

Escrevi pensando em leitor masculino, mas o texto não deixa isso claro (só na sinopse mesmo), então tá aí pra todo mundo kkkk

A receita estava na lixeira, junto aos frascos vazios. As pílulas eram levadas pela descarga, assim como a minha boa vontade de insistir na melhora.

Ele não podia melhorar… Não podia, porque se estivesse curado, iria morrer.

Respirei profundamente, não por necessidade, mas por querer que meu pulmão explodisse de tão cheio.

Tentei me convencer de que essa era a única opção. Afirmei a minha cabeça apegada na moral, que fiz o certo por vias tortas, me livrando um pouco do peso.

Bastava estagnar no passado, era só não seguir em frente que tudo ficaria bem.

Sem ponto final, apenas três pontos…

Encarando meu reflexo no espelho, senti um forte impulso, uma vontade absurda de me castigar. A mão tremia, ansiosa para estapear a face refletida. Mas me contive. Resolvi apaziguar com água, eliminando o caminho salgado das lágrimas secas que escorreram pelas bochechas.

Saí do banheiro em outra versão de mim.

Uma realidade que só era fato porque eu queria muito.

Os primeiros degraus foram fáceis de descer, era a madeira velha de sempre, anunciando os anos de pisoteio a cada rangido.

Mas a risada de Jack ecoou pela casa e chegou aos meus ouvidos. Isso me desestabilizou, arrancou com brutalidade a máscara que eu tentei manter.

A dor inchou na minha garganta, mas eu a engoli.

Insisti no sorriso, para permanecer apresentável, mas meus lábios continuavam curvando para baixo, as sobrancelhas queriam posar em sincronia com minha angústia e os olhos eram sinceros demais para segurar o pranto.

O remorso me roía, atormentava e alucinava.

Pouco antes de ficar visível na sala de jantar, me recompus, fingi estar bem para Jack, que ria docemente de algo contado por um dos irmãos.

Jack enxugou os olhos, marejados de alegria. — Oi amor! Finalmente você acordou. Vem cá! – a voz contagiante me chamou.

E eu corri até ele.

E ignorei tudo ao redor.

Sentei no colo de Jack, o abracei com força, respirando na curvatura de seu pescoço, sentindo-o com todo o meu ser e torcendo para que ele não me sentisse de volta, que não percebesse meus cacos.

— O Billy tava me contando que… – ele foi cortado pela própria doce risada. — que quando ele foi limpar a chaminé, um guaxinim o atacou! Olha pra ele, tá todo descabelado!

Eu olhei, mas não vi nada.

Nas demais cadeiras, não havia ninguém.

Os irmãos de Jack, com quem ele se divertia tanto... só ele os via.

Se eu quisesse vê-los, teria que ir até o coração da floresta, na carcaça de um carvalho, onde os corpos apodreciam a sete palmos da terra.

#imagines #fanboy #imagine #male reader #leitor masculino #male!reader #x male reader #fanfic #bisexual #gay #lgbtq #george mackay #george mackay imagine #george mackay x reader #jack marrowbone #jack marrowbone imagine #jack marrowbone x reader #marrowbone #marrowbone imagine #female reader #gn reader #fem!reader #x female reader #x gn reader #x fem!reader #x reader #x you #x y/n #oneshot #leitor

[georgemackayhey]

Hello! I love your content! Could you do some Bo Cash stuff? Preferably the fluffy, romantic stuff?

Bo Cash content incoming ..... I've always kind of had this blurb in the back of my mind so thank you for giving me a reason to bring it to life! Keeping it short bc I'm pressed for time but if yall want follow up to this blurb pls let me know!

___

You'd saw him stretching toward the afternoon sun, contorting his figure into poses by the pool side. He was lean and fit and striking, too beautiful to be in a rundown place like this. Too beautiful to be in your presence, you thought.

"Bo! I stole dinner!" I voice little and far off called, and the man you'd been admiring turned at the sound of what must have been his name. You peered on as the man stretched to stand and shuffled out of your sight.

Sipping your tea, you pretended to occupy your time with the laundry on the line, and counted down the days until you were meant to leave here. You'd applied to university and had just received an acceptance letter in the mail a day ago. One piece of paper changed the direction of your life, yet your day went on the same as so many before it.

No matter why you'd wound up occupying the little camper van on the dullest side of the city, your days there finally became numbered, and nothing thrilled you more to know.

///

Bo cursed Rell, he'd only just gotten started stretching his limbs that day. And he'd barely gotten a good glimpse of you, the only reason he started yoga by the pool was so that he might have seen you out, that day. But Bo's stomach grumbled, so he turned toward dinner and hoped he could find a way close toward you by next sunset.

///

You sat out by the pool after a long night of planning your future. Planning what to pack and who to tell and how to make enough money to get you to where you planned on going. There was a book in your lap and a drink in your hand and a quiet in the night. The pool was far enough away from most campsites that it felt like a retreat, and close enough to yours that it wasn't a trek to get to. So the quiet was expected. Aside from the croaking of tree frogs in the distance, and a few cars rumbling down the far off freeway... nothing. So when the sound of the pool gate clattered, you turned in surprise.

Your jaw slacked ever so slightly when you saw him. Bo, the man you'd been staring at from across the campsite for a day or two now. He was finally right where you'd hoped you'd find him, alone with you.

///

Bo wasn't thinking when he stormed off, only trying to find space to clear his head. His frustrations and fears fogged his thoughts as he stomped toward the usually empty poolside. And when he looked up and saw you there, every worry and wonder faded from his head. All he saw was you. Finally.

///

"I'm sorry to interrupt I-" He stood awkwardly by the pool gate, assessing the way you sat. You snapped the book in your lap shut, and sat up perhaps too eagerly.

"You don't have to leave." You noted quickly, watching no change in the man's stance or uncertain expression. "It would be nice to have some company, for once." You boldly declare, letting a blush get the better of you all the while.

"Okay." He seemed to decide after a moment's consideration. You watch the man you'd been admiring move toward you, a caution in his step, an intensity in his gaze. His eyes fell too your lap and he asked what you were reading.

"Oh just some biography about a pianist. Glenn Go-"

"Glenn Gould?"

"Yeah, actually."

The man gleamed, seemingly enchanted. "I love him." He admitted. You sat there grinning just as wide, trying to comprehend just how divine this interaction felt. Like life had been leading up to this moment. Like life had been leading up to meeting...

"What is your name?" You wondered. Because you thought you knew it but didn't want to seem like some sort of creep that had been watching him from across the park for a handful of days...

"Bo. Yours?"

And after you'd told Bo what to call you, the floodgates slammed open and were torn off their imaginary hinges. The two of you didn't stop conversing for what felt like hours and hours on end. You were impressed by his vast knowledge, the shreds of it he shared in just this short time alone. You were taken aback by his honesty, listening with respectful intensity when he told you the exact events that led him and his family here tonight. You spoke assuredly when he asked you questions, because you could tell he was really listening to your answers.

There was a desperation to your interaction. Like you had only this one night to get to know Bo, and one chance to make an impression on him. But conversation flowed so easily, and the man sat so relaxed in the chair beside yours that time seemed to stall, and the air felt easier to breath all the while.

Then you asked Bo exactly why he'd come to the pool to escape at this odd hour of the night.

And he told you he'd gotten accepted into university, and had a big fight with his father about the ordeal. And then you asked him which university. And Bo revealed he'd been accepted to the same place you had been.

"I don't know what I'll do. How I'll get there. Or if I'll even be a realistically good fit. I just don't know..."

"Well one fact is for certain," You smiled at him. "If you wind up there, you'll have a friend waiting."

When you told Bo you had been accepted into the same school, he locked his stunning crystal eyes on yours and let his smiled grow wide as you'd seen it yet.

"Divine intervention. It must be." His words were softly spoken, and caused your body to buzz with excited wonder.

"If you need a way there, I leave in three days."

"I-I couldn't pay you. I wouldn't be any help at all." Bo sighed. He spoke a bit more about how frustrated he'd become with his parents for failing to prepare him for the real world. For how lost and hopeless he believed himself to be, despite quickly proving himself to be one of the more remarkable being you'd ever encountered.

"Come with me. Three days from now it won't matter what we do or don't know. It'll be a fresh start. Wanna?"

"But I-"

"Bo, yes or no. That's all you need to say." You smiled, leaning in closer toward his chair as he shifted there. The man you'd been shortly but intensely fascinated with started to nod, like he was winding up to answer for real.

"Yes. I'll go with you." Bo smiled and it was grin so stunning, it could've knocked you dead.

"I could use the company." You called back, making the both of you chuckle.

"Me too." Bo said. You soon gathered your drink and book, and let Bo promise he'd meet you poolside in three days' time. This new start just became all the more exciting.

#bo cash #bodevan cash #george mackay #george mackay imagine #george mackay fanfic #bo cash fanfic

[pennylanefics]

A Promise | Part 2 - William Schofield

a/n: it has been a while!! i rewatched 1917 the other night and my love for the film and characters has been reignited, so i decided to finish this fic that i wrote almost three years ago! i am so happy that i was able to finish this and hope you enjoy <3

read part 1 here

WARNINGS: mentions of death

word count: 3,856

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Silence hangs in the air as Will stares at you in disbelief. He had no idea what to say or how to react to this sort of confession whatsoever.

“What?” He mutters out, eyes widening in fear, even backing up away from you a little bit.

Your chest felt so tight the longer the silence went on, like it was suffocating you and you couldn’t escape it. With some deep breaths, you calm your erratic breathing, but your hands were still shaking like a leaf in the wind.

“Ever since you started, um, coming around and visiting us…I’ve…I’ve really fallen for you, Will.” You have yet to meet his eyes, terrified of seeing his reaction through them. “And I didn’t know how to go about telling you because I’m so worried.”

Again, Will says nothing, and it was starting to get really discouraging. He truly had no idea what to say or what to feel. But deep down, he felt something. And that’s what scared him.

As he was going to finally speak, Percy’s cries erupt in the otherwise still household, and he shoots up, finding it a perfect excuse to get away from this conversation. The second he is out of the room, you burst into tears, covering your mouth to hush your own cries.

You take the chance to make an exit of your own, running right towards your bedroom and shutting the door just loud enough to let Will know that you were no longer on the couch waiting for him. Hearing this, he lets out a soft sigh, glad to know he can have the rest of the night to think over things and gather his thoughts.

Percy had thankfully quieted down as Will rocked him slowly in the rocking chair of the corner of his nursery. Looking down at the three month old baby in his arms, he shakes his head, seeing a striking image of his close friend who he misses so dearly.

When the baby was fast asleep, Will carefully puts him in his crib and walks out of the room, keeping the door cracked ever so slightly just in case he cries anymore. Looking down the hall, he sees your door completely shut. As much as he wants to walk right up to it and talk to you, he turns away and steps into his room, deciding to give you the space you need.

The days following your confession, you try your best to avoid Will at all costs. Unfortunately, since he is the father figure for your child, it was very difficult to do, but you managed to keep conversation and chatter to a minimum whenever you did.

Iris had even noticed the tension with the two of you, and pulled you aside one day when Will went into town for some groceries.

“(Y/N), honey, is everything alright between you and Will?” You two were baking some desserts for a few neighbors since the snow was finally starting to melt away from the winter storm a couple weeks ago and people were now able to get out and see others and deliver things.

Sighing, you set the whisk down in the bowl of batter you were mixing and look towards her. Thinking for a moment, knowing that you were going to spill all of the feelings you had inside, you go back to whisking the mixture for the moment.

“Let’s get this last batch into the oven and then I’ll explain.”

You knew you had to be quick with things, as Will could be home at any point of time, though he’s only been gone for less than an hour, trips to the local market took far longer than that usually.

Finally, you get the tins into the oven and set the timer when Iris bringing you to the living room and sits you down on the couch next to her. She waits for you to be the one to start the conversation, not wanting to push anything.

“Um, I’ve felt this way for a little while now, but I have really fallen in love with Will,” you tell her first and foremost. “And navigating these feelings has not been easy.”

“Darling, that’s beautiful. So why has everything felt so tense between you two then?”

With a pause, you fiddle with your fingers for a moment before you start tugging at a loose string on your dress.

“I told him and he didn’t react well. He said not one word about it, and then ran off when Percy started to cry. That was almost a week ago and we haven’t spoken much since. I don’t know what to do, Iris.”

“In terms of interpreting how he reacted or feeling this way?” You take another moment to think about her question.

“Both. I love him very much, I’m entirely sure of that, but…it feels wrong.” Getting this admission off your chest felt better than telling Will how you felt. This was the deep root of everything.

“Why?”

You take a moment to respond, feeling a little embarrassed and bad for feeling the way you do.

“It makes me feel guilty. Like I am giving up on Tom. I’m loving someone else when I promised him he’s the only one I’d ever love.” The tears brimming your eyes finally spill down your cheeks, and Iris is quick to hand you a handkerchief to wipe them away.

“Honey, I know it feels hard letting Tom go, but he wouldn’t want you to be miserable and attach to him when there’s someone else out there that makes you happy. And the fact that it’s Will, he would have been very elated, because he knows he can prodive you a wonderful life.” She pauses, listening to you sniffle and watches as you continue to wipe the non-stop tears away.

“I know he would want me to move on, but I hate that I have to,” you cry out, hiding your face in your hands as you sob loudly, everything hitting you once again. Iris gives you the time you need, gently rubbing your back as you let all of your emotions out.

“You shouldn’t have to, but you need to. I would hate to see you deprive yourself of something so wonderful, that you deserve, because you fear of forgetting Tom. I know you will never forget him. And loving Will doesn’t mean you never loved Tom or will stop loving him. I know my son meant the world to you, and nothing can replace the love you shared. But maybe this new chapter will do you some good, bring some light into your life.”

You think over her words and slowly nod, looking down at the sewn handkerchief she gave you, slightly damp from the tears you shed.

“Thank you, Iris,” you whisper, gazing up at her with a fond smile. She reaches over to squeeze your hand, her other hand raising up to your back once more.

“Of course, darling. I’m always going to be here for you in times like this.”

The two finish up baking for the day, preparing everything into an orgaized pile to distribute them tomorrow. Will, on the other hand, had quite an eventful morning before going to the market.

WILL’S POV:

Before I went to the market to stock up the house, I decided to take a little trip to see my mother and get her advice on this situation. I also planned on talking to Iris, but I needed my mother’s words first, she always knew the right thing to say.

“Hi, mum,” I greet her with a hug.

“Oh, it’s so nice to see you, my son. How is everything at the Blake household?” Gulping nervously, I take a seat on the armchair in the living room, as she takes a seat back on the couch, where she was currently knitting something.

“I actually wanted to talk to you about that.” I nervously wring my hands together and take a deep breath.

“What’s going on?”

“Well, you obviously know I’ve been helping the with Percy and everything else in general.”

“Yeah, and it’s going well, isn’t it?”

“Kind of,” I taper off. At this point, she sets her supplies down and focuses her full attention onto me. “(Y/N) told me she’s in love with me.”

She says nothing, her eyebrows furrowing a little bit in wonder.

“And…there’s a problem with that?” Her question throws me off a little. Was there a problem? Obviously there was, but why?

“I don’t know,” I mutter, shaking my head.

“Do you love her?” I’m stunned silent by her follow-up question, and suddenly, everything settles in. All the feelings I’ve been trying to push away the past few months, seeing how wonderful (Y/N) is and how beautiful of a person she has become, even in the face of tragedy of losing her lover and the father of her child.

“I think so,” I finally whisper after a few moments of thinking over things. “But I’m terrified, mum.”

She scoots closer, sitting on the end of the couch closest to me, and grabs my hands. My head raises to look at the serious expression on her face.

“There is nothing to be scared of, Will. If she loves you and you love her, there’s no hurt in seeing where things can go with each other. You’re already a father figure in that little boy’s life, it’s no surprise that you feel so strongly towards her.”

“What if I’m not enough?” My response leaves her speechless, she has no clue what to say. “What if I can’t give her what Tom gave her?”

“Listen to me, William. You cannot think that way. Tom may have been her love, but he’s no longer here. No two men will ever love the same woman the exact same way, things are bound to be different, but you won’t see that until you try. It could be so beautiful for the two of you, but if you’re held back by that fear, both of you are going to be miserable.”

Her words knock some sense into me and I sit there, nodding along to everything she says. Instantly, I feel a ton better about this situation, and have a small plan on how to fix thing when I get home, if (Y/N) is even up to hear me out.

“Thank you so much, mum,” I sigh softly, standing to give her a hug. She squeezes me tight, something she does when she knows I’ve got a lot on my mind and need love and support.

“I’m glad I could help. Now go talk to that wonderful girl and fix things!” I laugh a little and bid her goodbye, making my way into the town market to gather everything needed for the four of us back home on the Blake estate.

READER’S POV:

You were finishing up feeding Percy his afternoon bottle in his nursery when you hear the front door open and close, and Will’s voice greeting Iris, who sits on the couch reading a book.

She helps him bring all of the items from the market inside and the two of them take their time in putting everything away. You were still rocking Percy after burping him, but all you wanted to do was hide in your room to avoid Will as much as possible.

“Um, Iris, can I ask you something?” Will decides to ask her now, finding it perfect while they put things away and with you being absent for the time being.

“Of course, Will. You know you can talk to me about anything.” Will nods and takes a deep breath after placing a bag of veggies in the refridgerator.

“I don’t know if she’s mentioned it to you, but the other night, while you were away, (Y/N) admitted that she loves me. Well, she phrased it as in love, if there’s a difference.”

Iris chuckles softly and nods, grabbing cans of beans to put them in the cupboard.

“She did talk to me about it, earlier today. And she said that you didn’t react well.” Will nods in shame and sets down the cans he was holding, ready to put away.

“I went to my mum and asked for advice, because she always knows what to say. She…well, what she said and told me got me to think over things.”

“I can tell she really cares for you, Will. She may have loved Tom, but that doesn’t mean she can’t love you.”

“I fear that I won’t be able to love her as much as Tom did,” he admit to her. Iris sighs and walks over to stand next to the young man, resting her hand on his back as gently as ever. “Tom talked about her like she hung the moon and stars in the sky. I don’t know if I’ll be able to live up to the love he had for her.”

“You can’t simply live and think like that. I’ll tell you what I told her. Her loving you doesn’t diminish the fact that she loved Tom. While Tom did love her dearly, you can provide a different kind of love, and if she’s willing to move forward with that, I don’t see the problem.”

“My mum said the same thing,” he smiles a little, looking over at Iris. She offers him a small grin to him and drops her hand.

“Do you love her?” She asks after some time. The smile on Will’s face remains as he answers her differently than he answered his own mother.

“I do,” he says confidently.

“Then tell her. Because the both of you deserve to be happy, and I know Tom would want the two of you to be. It’s not that you or (Y/N) are going to forget him, but it’s healthy to move on, and I think you guys would be very lovely together.”

Will widely smiles at her words and finishes putting all of the groceries away.

“Go talk to her, last I remember she was putting Percy down for a nap.”

Will takes his chance to go find you, checking the nursery first. Upon quietly opening the door, he sees the light was off and Percy was in his crib, fast asleep. He backs out and leaves it cracked like he usually does before he steps a few ways down to your door.

It takes him a few seconds to gain the courage to knock on your door, and when he does, you don’t answer for a little bit. He thinks that you’re laying down for a nap as well, and as he goes to walk away, you slowly open the door and come face to face with him.

“Hi,” he whispers, gulping nervously. Gazing into his beautiful blue eyes for the first time in a week, your heart begins to race in your chest, all of your feeling still very clear for him. “Um, is this an okay time to talk?”

“Uh, yeah,” you mumble, stepping to the side to let him in. Shutting the door softly, you take a seat on your bed while he sits in the chair next to it, keeping his eyes on the ground.

“I’ve done a lot of thinking and talking to my mum and Iris, and I know you deserve answers as to…what happened last week.” You nod at him and wait for him to continue before you speak any. “I love you as well, (Y/N). I’ve had a lot of conflicting feelings and after speaking to them, things have become more clear and I’ve come to terms with how I feel.”

Will pauses to look up at you, his bright eyes shining with a few tears. His mouth opens and closes as he tries to find the right words to say.

“I have fallen for you. I pushed it away because I felt so much guilt and fear, I kept telling myself it was nothing, that what I was feeling was admiration for a friend. But I can’t keep pretending, you mean so much to me and I have fallen in love with you too. I was terrified of everything.”

“How do you think I felt, Will?” You finally manage to speak, your voice coming out rather choked and shaky. Tears were also threatening to spill over and Will stares at you in surprise. “I’ve had these feelings for a couple months, and so much guilt has surrounded me. Like I am a bad person for falling in love with someone that’s not Tom, the man I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with.”

“I’ve had the same feelings, sort of. I know I can’t love you the same way Tom did, and I know he holds a very special place in your heart. I am terrified of not loving you to that extent, to not be able to provide the love he gave you, that you deserve.”

“I know what I deserve. And you have given me something to live for after such tragedy. I never thought I could love someone the way I loved Tom, but falling for you has been so different, a good different. While I still love Tom and I always will, living in the past is not good. We have to move on and not get hung up on those that have passed. I will never forget the place he had in my life, but you…you have become such a special person to me, Will. And I can’t deny the feelings I have any longer.”

Will raises out of his seat to stand in front of you, grabbing your hands gently. Slowly, he kneels to the ground, and finally, the tears fall from your eyes, seeing the kind-hearted and soft look in his own.

“I promise you, from here on out, to give you a love that you deserve. I want the best for you and for Percy. I made a promise to Tom, and now I’m making a promise to you. To love you so deeply and to always be here for you, through everything. I know I won’t love you the way he did, but I will do my best, in my own way, to make sure you know you are loved and cared for, as well as Percy. You two are my life now, and I will do everything in my power to show you that.”

Without a response, you jump up and fall straight into his arms. But to make things more comfortable, Will stands up and grabs you, holding you tightly against his body, nuzzling his face into your shoulder. His large, muscular hands spread out across your back, and he never wants to let you go.

“I love you, (Y/N). I’ve truly fallen in love with you the same way you have with me.”

“I’m so thankful that Tom brought us together. I know neither of us want to get in the way of what he and I had together, but that doesn’t have to happen. We can love each other in our own way.”

Will pulls back to look at you and smiles so sweetly, a sight that you haven’t seen in a while. Your hand comes up to cradle his cheek and he leans into your touch.

“Have I told you that your smile is truly beautiful,” you whisper, your thumb softly stroking the apple of his cheek. He shakes his head in response and chuckles softly.

“You think so?” Going along with the silent answers, you nod your head before you lean forward and place the softest kiss on his cheek. A soft hum rumbles in his throat and he can’t help the way his heart beats like crazy in his chest. He’s never felt this way before, but everything was exciting him.

“Can I kiss you? Would that be okay?” Will asks quietly, not wanting to upset you or make you uncomfortable in any way.

“I’ve been wanting to since that night you got Percy to calm down,” you reply, referring to the night, about a month after Percy was born, when Will tried skin on skin with him and he instantly relaxed and stopped crying. He seems to know exactly what you mean, as it’s a memory he’s very clearly stored in his mind. But with your answer, his hand comes up to cup your face, his touch as tender and sweet as can be, and he slowly leans in.

In seconds, your lips press against his and it’s as beautiful as your first kiss with Tom. Though that thought is far in your mind, and all you can think of is Will. The scent of his cologne still lingering on his shirt, how soft his lips are and how you can taste the strawberry he stole while putting them away in the refrigerator. Your own hands trail up his chest and shoulders, resting on his neck.

Under your thumbs, you can feel his pulse racing, and you want to giggle so bad, but the feel of his lips pulls you back in and your mind is clouded with thoughts of him once more.

When the kiss ends, Will presses his forehead against yours, catching his breath. His eyes remain closed as he tries to calm his spiraling mind and breathing, a small chuckle escaping his lips.

“You’re so very special, my love,” he whispers, his breath hitting your lips. It sends a shiver up your spine and makes you want more of him. You barely even register the pet name, being so caught up with everything else.

“As are you, my hero.” He lets out another laugh and kisses you once more. The feeling makes your head spin and your knees weak, it’s a feeling you’ll never get over.

“Hm, beautiful girl. What do you say we spend the day next to the fireplace as I read to you?” He gently tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering on your face for a few seconds.

“I think that sounds wonderful. Iris is going into town soon to meet with her support group, so it’ll be the three of us for a few hours.” Will kisses your temple, continuing to rub your back comfortingly.

“I like the sound of that…the three of us,” he grins, looking down at you as your cheeks heat up, leading you to hide your face in his neck.

“It’s our little family.”

Your words seem to get to Will, and all of his emotions suddenly hit. But that fear isn’t as prominent as it was before, it’s a good feeling he gets when you say this. Hope fills him, and as much as it scares him, he welcomes it. Because even though things were going to be rocky in the beginning, he knew two things for sure.

His love for you was deep within him already, and he was more than ready to live his life with you fully by his side, as his lover.

—

tags from previous chapter: @thingsforimagination @fodenswhore

#william schofield #will schofield #george mackay #1917 #william schofield imagines #william schofield x reader #will schofield imagines #will schofield x reader #imagines #fanfiction #fanfic

[strangethings-everywhere]

Beautiful Ruins // Royal!Dean x Knight!George AU // Ch.3

Masterlist Ch.1 // Ch.2

Wordcount: 1414 Warnings: cursing, dean tries to fight everyone Author’s note: hello lads i’ve returned from war

---

Dean and George continued to spar for what felt like hours, the adrenaline coursing through their veins like a drug. Dean couldn’t remember feeling that happy in years. Being the crown prince, the only friends he could remember having were the knights who were assigned to him and the young dignitaries who visited. 

He was so lonely, but he loved the feeling of having a friend. Was this what being normal felt like?

“George?” Dean glanced over at the other boy. The two of them had just finished another match and were lying next to each other on the grass. 

“Yes?” 

“Are you my friend?” 

George scoffed, turning to look at Dean. “Of course I am. What kind of foolish question is that?” 

Dean felt his face heat up. “I just… I’ve never had a friend before.” He absentmindedly ran his fingers through the grass. “It’s just new, that’s all.” 

George was quiet, his blue eyes studying Dean with new curiosity. Dean refused to meet the other boy’s eyes, his face flushed. 

“Dean, are you a knight?”

“What?” 

“Are you,” George sat up cross-legged, twirling strands of grass in his fingers, “a knight?”  

Dean closed his eyes with a sigh. He didn’t want to tell George who he was, but he knew that there were holes in his story. He also knew that if George was truly on his way to being a knight, he would eventually find out about all of Dean’s lies. On the other hand, he knew that their relationship, as new as it was, would completely change if George found out he was royalty. He still had no idea how George didn’t already know, but he’d do anything to keep this comfortable dynamic they had. 

“I mean, what else would I be doing here?” Dean answered weakly. It was truly the worst excuse he could offer and he wished he could sink into the ground. You absolute moron. 

“You just don’t fight, y’know, like a knight.” George began picking at a cut on his forearm. “At least not like anyone I’ve ever trained with. You’ve got fancier footwork.” He smirked. “And your clothes are nicer.” 

“They’re just clean,” Dean mumbled. He was sure his face was blazing red. 

“What I’m trying to say is that you’re hiding something and I wanna know what.” George rolled onto his back again. “Especially if you can get me some lessons with whoever taught you how to fight.” 

Dean groaned. “George, I have to tell you something.”

“I was right!”

“Shut up.” Dean sat up and ran his hands through his hair. “I’m-”

“YOUR HIGHNESS!” The loud voice of Lord Christopher echoed across the courtyard, bringing Dean to his feet. The sallow paleness of his father’s advisor was just visible in the archways leading into the castle. He looked upset, as usual. 

“Your Highness…” George finally made the connection as he looked back and forth between Dean and Lord Christopher, his eyes wide. “Don’t tell me… you’re not-” 

“We’ll talk about this later. I’m being summoned.” Dean pulled George to his feet. “Thank you for today and for last night. Don’t hate me.” 

Before George could answer him, Dean grabbed his sword and walked away. He felt his hands begin to shake, the grip around his sword tightening. As he approached Lord Christopher, the gnawing anger returned to him.

“You better have a good fucking reason for this.” He hissed. 

“Of course my prince. Your father has requested your presence.” Lord Christopher looked down at him with an amused curl of his lips. “I do hope that I haven’t interrupted anything.” 

“Fuck off.” Dean snarled. He shoved past the man and practically ran towards his father’s quarters. 

His father had a private war room where he spent most of his time, accompanied only by Lord Christopher and the servants who aided and fed him. Dean tried to avoid his father at all costs, but he knew that the war room was the only place his father would see him. 

Dean reached the thick oak double doors in a matter of minutes. He shoved past the guards and practically stumbled into the room, panting hard. “Father!”

His father, the King, turned slowly to face him, his expression one of immense disappointment at the sight of his eldest son and heir. The only feature shared between father and son was their body type: King Henry was tall and strong, built to be a warrior. Dean was built like his father, like a knight, but still hadn’t reached his height. He looked too much like his mother, with his lighter hair and cerulean eyes. His father was dark grey hair and haunted hazel eyes. His father was war and always had been. His mother, the late Queen Ophelia, had been sunshine personified and an angel to all. 

Henry hadn’t deserved her. Dean hated him. 

“Hello, son. I thought you’d never show.” Henry held out his arms to Dean as if he wanted to embrace him. Dean didn’t move, his arms crossed. “Drink with me?” Henry moved towards a pitcher of wine. 

“I’m alright thanks.” 

“Oh, I’ve heard. How’s the hangover?” His father handed him a goblet anyway, his grin malicious. “Don’t look so surprised, of course I know about your nightly escapades. How else do you think you’re getting out of the castle so easily?”

Dean’s heart dropped to his shoes. He thought he’d had this one solitary thing, this one secret from his father. What he thought was his sliver of freedom had never really been his. It made sense; his life had never really been his. Everything he had belonged to his father.

“I-I…”

“Speak up boy!” Henry bellowed, slamming his goblet on the table with a bang. Dean flinched, his hands shaking. 

“I didn’t think you knew.” It took all of Dean’s concentration to keep his voice steady. His comment only made his father laugh. 

“Of course I did! Do you think I’d let my son,” another bang of the goblet, “my heir, wander the streets unsupervised?” Dean could smell the alcohol on Henry’s breath. “Especially this close to your birthday. Especially this close to your first command.”

Dean almost laughed. His father didn’t care about his birthday. He only cared that Dean was about to go to war, this time in a position of power. 

“How did you know I got drunk?” Dean asked. 

“I’ve got eyes and ears everywhere, but I had a special pair of eyes on you last night.” Henry wiggled his eyebrows. “A companion of sorts.” 

“Did you pay a prostitute to spy on me?!” Dean snapped. Henry broke into a deep belly laugh, wine spilling onto the floor. 

“No, no.” He wiped tears from his eyes, a few drunk giggles escaping as he grinned at Dean. “Even better.” 

The guards knocked at the door and Henry called for them to enter. Dean slowly turned, his blood roaring in his ears. 

George stood in the doorway, dressed in the dark coat and trousers of His Majesty’s Private Guard. His blond hair, which had been messy not thirty minutes beforehand, was clean and styled out of his face. He was wearing shiny black boots and his black gloves bore the royal coat of arms. 

He was a fucking knight. Not only that, he was part of the King’s inner circle of knights, his most elite. 

Dean’s world seemed to blur. He could hear his father laughing in the background but it sounded like he was underwater. George’s mouth was moving, but Dean could barely hear him. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” 

Before he could stop himself, Dean knocked George off his feet with a swipe of his leg. He heard someone draw their sword and he didn’t realize it was him until he saw the tip of his blade at George’s throat. 

“Dean…” George’s voice was calm, soft. It made Dean so fucking angry. 

“You lied to me.” Dean’s hands were shaking, hot tears spilling down his cheeks. That gnawing feeling was eating his insides, taunting him. He wanted to spill blood, he wanted to kill someone. 

“Dean.” His father’s voice made him spin around, sword raised. His father hit the flat of the blade with a powerful blow of his fist and the sword fell out of Dean’s grip. “George is your protection. I’ve assigned him to you.”

“What?” His brain was so jumbled that he could barely comprehend what his father was saying.

“He’s following you to war.” 

#george mackay #dean charles chapman #george mackay imagines #dean charles chapman imagines #george mackay x dean charles chapman #royal au #royal!dean #knight!george

[loneberry]

After I finished making a midterm exam, Molly and I went to a secret Japanese tea house. It appears on no map, has no hours, no sign. It is as though it exists, somehow, outside this world. When you enter, you give your phone to the owner to lock in a box for the duration of your visit.

We stayed for nearly 6 hours—sat reading poems, chatting with the eccentric owner about Sufism and the ocean and his peculiar flower arrangements consisting of a mix of living and dead plant matter.

How can I describe it, the strange sensation of being alive, late at night in those dim lights, surrounded by beauty. I got up to look at the wares, inhaled the hinoki essential oil—Max Richter was playing as I stared at blank notecards and imagined writing someone a heartfelt note, writing bravely, from that bewitched and emotionally authentic space I was in. I felt a sudden pang. It was the moment opening, with all its counterfactuals, what could have been, what will never be—how deeply I could feel, in that instant, the texture of my grief.

When I’m in the hustle and bustle of my busy and now quite ordinary life, I think, if only I could really hear the voice that says,

“Jackie, it was not for this that you were created.”

Then I would give away all my things and spend my days in prayer.

Susan Howe writes that for Sarah Edwards, “all works of God are a kind of language or voice to instruct us in things pertaining to calling and confusion.”

“...each soul comes upon the call of God in his word. I read words but don’t hear God in them.”

Did I pray, how long in supplication, with my inner eye fixed on that phantom, the phantom with her eyes stitched shut, limbs covered in oak moss. A dream of the opening of the eyes, the inert limbs now lithe and moving toward you. Ordinary objects and sounds are suddenly strange. That’s when the phantom slips through, when I hear the birds singing in a tree...

The blooming moment. Retrospectively, I am convinced that its condition of possibility was the confiscation of my phone, that it is only when we are unplugged that we can sense these holy emanations.

How calm we were, leafing through the book of Japanese death poems (jisei) in the tea house. What will be the last words I write before dying? For all I know, it could be this, or this. I remembered the dying words of George Mackay Brown: “I see hundreds and hundreds of ships sailing out of the harbour.” I remember the fragments Kafka wrote while dying, “lemonade everything was infinite,” his concern for the peony, the improvised performance—the incantation—I did at the Zinc Bar in 2015 using Kafka’s dying words, how J wept in the audience, then wrote me about the snow:

I am the guy, by the way, who said hi on the street, in the snow, after your reading. … I did indeed cry after your Kafka-Cixous incantation, partly because that phrase has been magic to me my whole life. I read Cixous' novel by that name when I studied with her and Derrida in my twenties... Her seminars were amazing. One day, funnily enough, she gave a seminar on snow in Proust, simply because snow was on the ground in Paris. For all sorts of reasons your whole reading shook and tenderised me deeply. I suppose, with the snow through the tinted glass outside, it will forever be, my imagination of what you read will forever be blanche niege texte.

(standing on the corner in manhattan with that powdery snow i was looking at the flowers when you walked past actually, turned, swivelled, i had needed to get out of the bar because the reading had touched me so much . . . i then went and wandered in the snow for an hour, till i happened on a subway, and back to my friend's in brooklyn . . . i have been thinking more today about how effective your reading was to me. it sort of made me feel i could only read poetry from now on if i was embodied, since what convinced in your reading beyond the obvious was the adjustments to us, the audience, the interruptions, the ability to break off, and then the actual concentration because of the embodiments . . . at most poetry readings i am constantly thinking 'i am at a poetry reading' and can't really get beyond the poem-as-poem-at-reading. when you read i was suddenly completely focused. the bodily resonation was right, a recuperation of grace, so i could listen. like before the internet or something. it returned me all the way to early cixous and feminine writing and what that could still mean, a writing beyond master-works and over-sociality of tact, agua viva, what korine might call 'mistakist' heaven. it was my first time in new york. my last night. stop. for now. cut the flowers.)

#poetry #literature #dreams #jisei #tea #ichimu #cixous #kafka #George Mackay Brown #Susan Howe #proust

[malecelebinfemdom]

THE INTERVIEW

Dom! Jojo Todynho × George Mackay

Jojo Todynho and George Mackay had recently a femdom photoshoot about dominance and submission dynamics and celebrating female power.

They give an interview about how this experience was and how they felt.

*Imagines (everything is fiction)

Interviewer: Jojo, it's clear you had a blast during the photoshoot, exuding dominance and playfulness. How did you approach the role of the severe dominatrix?

Jojo Todynho: Oh honey, when they told me I'd be the one cracking the whip, I said, "Finally, someone's recognizing my natural authority!" *laughs* But in all seriousness, it was about tapping into that confident, powerful energy and owning it.

Interviewer: And George, how was it working with Jojo in that dynamic?

George Mackay: *blushing slightly* Well, Jojo certainly knows how to command a room. Her energy on set was infectious, and it was a joy to play off of that.

Jojo Todynho: Bless his heart, he's such a good sport. But let's be real, George was like putty in my hands! *laughs* Nah, he held his own, but it was fun to tease him a bit.

Interviewer: Jojo, your jokes about George's "natural submission" are cracking us up. How did he handle being the subject of your playful banter?

Jojo Todynho: Oh, he took it like a champ! But seriously, George is such a sweetheart, and he brought so much to the shoot. We had a good balance of fun and professionalism.

Interviewer: George, did Jojo's playful dominance ever catch you off guard during the shoot?

George Mackay: *chuckles* Definitely! But it added to the authenticity of the dynamic we were portraying. Jojo has this magnetic presence that draws you in, and it was exhilarating to play opposite her.

Jojo Todynho: Aw, shucks, George! You're making me blush now. But seriously, he handled it like a pro. And let's face it, he looked damn good in that collar! *winks*

Interviewer: It sounds like you both had a fantastic time on set, bringing this dynamic to life.

Interviewer: George, being naked for this photoshoot must have been quite an experience. How did you feel about it?

George Mackay: Well, it was definitely a vulnerable experience, but I approached it with the same professionalism as any other role. It was about embodying the character and telling the story authentically.

Jojo Todynho: And let me tell you, sweet George here didn't have anything to be shy about! *laughs* Those veins were popping, and let's just say, he had a good size to work with!

Interviewer: *chuckles* Jojo, you never fail to keep us entertained with your candid comments. George, how did you maintain focus amidst Jojo's playful remarks?

George Mackay: *grinning* Jojo definitely kept me on my toes with her commentary, but it added to the fun atmosphere on set. At the end of the day, we were there to create art, and her energy only fueled that creativity.

Jojo Todynho: Hey, I'm just stating the facts, honey! But in all seriousness, George handled it like a pro. He didn't let any of my shade throw him off his game.

Interviewer: Jojo, your humor is infectious. How important do you think it is to keep things light-hearted on set, especially when tackling themes like this?

Jojo Todynho: Oh, it's crucial! We're all professionals, but that doesn't mean we can't have a bit of fun. Laughter helps break the tension and allows everyone to feel more comfortable, especially when you're baring it all, like George here!

George Mackay: *laughs* Couldn't have said it better myself. Jojo definitely brought the laughter and the sass, and it made the whole experience unforgettable.

Interviewer: Well, it sounds like you both had a blast, despite the challenges. Jojo, we can't overlook the whip moments from the photoshoot. How did you approach wielding the whip, and what was that experience like?

Jojo Todynho: Oh, honey, let me tell you, I was channeling my inner dominatrix! *laughs* But in all seriousness, it was about finding that balance between commanding presence and ensuring everyone's safety on set. The whip became an extension of my character, adding intensity to the shots.

Interviewer: George, what was it like being on the receiving end of Jojo's whip for those shots?

George Mackay: It was certainly an adrenaline rush! Jojo knows how to handle that whip with finesse, and she made sure to choreograph the movements in a way that looked dynamic on camera while keeping me safe.

Jojo Todynho: Oh, I wasn't too hard on him... this time! *laughs* But seriously, George was a trooper. He trusted me, and together with the photographer, we captured some truly stunning moments.

Interviewer: Can you walk us through how those whip shots were orchestrated?

Jojo Todynho: It was all about communication and coordination. We discussed the poses and movements beforehand to ensure everyone was on the same page. Then, it was a matter of timing and precision to capture those striking moments.

George Mackay: And safety was paramount. We had padding and precautions in place to minimize any risk, and Jojo's expertise ensured that the shots looked authentic without compromising anyone's well-being.

Interviewer: It sounds like a carefully orchestrated process to achieve those impactful shots. Jojo, in some of the photos, we see moments where your latex gloves make contact with George's body. Can you tell us about the significance of those moments and how you approached them during the shoot?

Jojo Todynho: Oh, honey, let me tell you, those moments were all about asserting dominance and control. And George here, well, let's just say he got a taste of what it's like to be under my command *smirks*.

Interviewer: George, how did you navigate those moments of physical contact with Jojo's latex gloves?

George Mackay: *clears throat* It was certainly a unique experience. Jojo brought such intensity to those moments, and while it was all part of the artistic vision, it did push me out of my comfort zone a bit.

Jojo Todynho: Oh, come on, George, don't be shy now! You know you secretly enjoyed it *laughs*. But in all seriousness, George handled it like a champ, even if he was squirming a bit under my touch.

Interviewer: Jojo, your playful banter certainly adds an extra layer of intensity to the discussion. George, how did you maintain focus and professionalism amidst Jojo's provocations?

George Mackay: It was definitely a challenge, but I reminded myself of the importance of staying in character and telling the story authentically. Jojo's energy kept me on my toes, but it also elevated the dynamic between us on camera.

Jojo Todynho: Aw, look at George trying to play it cool *laughs*. But seriously, he handled it like a pro. We were able to push boundaries and create some unforgettable moments together.

Interviewer: It's clear that the chemistry between you two translated into some captivating shots. Jojo, the photoshoot captured some intense moments, including ones where George's arousal was evident. Can you share your thoughts on capturing those raw emotions and reactions?

Jojo Todynho: Honey, let me tell you, there's nothing quite like capturing that raw, unfiltered desire on camera. And when George's cock started hardening, well, let's just say it added an extra layer of intensity to the shots.

Interviewer: George, how did you feel about those moments being captured and immortalized in the photos?

George Mackay: *clears throat* It was definitely a vulnerable experience, but it was also a testament to the authenticity of the emotions we were portraying. Jojo created a safe and supportive environment where I felt comfortable exploring those aspects of the character.

Jojo Todynho: Oh, George, don't be shy now! You know you were serving some serious heat in those moments *laughs*. But seriously, it's all about tapping into those emotions and capturing them in a way that feels genuine and compelling.

Interviewer: Jojo, your ability to capture those raw emotions is truly remarkable. How do you ensure that your subjects feel comfortable enough to express themselves so openly?

Jojo Todynho: It's all about building trust and creating a supportive atmosphere on set. I make sure to communicate openly with my subjects, listen to their needs and concerns, and provide encouragement and guidance throughout the process.

George Mackay: And Jojo's infectious energy and professionalism made it easy to let go and fully immerse myself in the moment. It was a collaborative effort that resulted in some truly powerful imagery.

Interviewer: It's evident that the trust and rapport between you two were instrumental in capturing those intense moments. Thank you both for sharing your insights with us!

*George's gif from the user roranicuspond

#jojo todynho #george mackay

[ramblingroommate]

My Dracula Daily Fan Cast

Am I extremely late to this whole thing? Yes. Do I care? Nope! Let’s go :)

Dracula

Shaun Toub: for the longest time I actually had Claes Bang (who has played Dracula before!) in this role, but after re-reading Dracula’s description for the twentieth time I couldn’t get Shaun’s face out of my head. Neither actor is English (not a coincidence) but while Claes is danish, Shaun is an iranian-born american actor. We don’t really know Dracula’s origins so I thinks it’s fine. Shaun is also almost ten years older than Claes which is great for the first part of the story and less so for the second half, but I think he could still play it off really well with the right make up (or CGI).

Jonathan Harker

George Mackay: he’s a British actor most people know for his role in the war movie 1917. I chose him because he has the general look I want for Jonathan (generic white boy my beloved) and I think he could bring justice to our dear friend, showing the hardships of the character really well instead of making him dull just to push a dracmina romance.

Mina Murray

Olivia Cooke: she’s an English actress mostly known for her roles in ready player one and house of the dragon. I mostly chose her because of her looks (tho I imagine Mina with black hair) but I know she was in her fair share of horror movies and even in a historical drama - both genres that mesh really well with Dracula.

Lucy Westenra

Sydney Sweeney: it was really hard choosing an actress for Lucy! Mina is always going on about how pretty she is so I wanted that but I also wanted PAIN. Sydney acted in Euphoria where she interpreted the character of Cassie who, and I quote, “fell in love with every guy she ever dated. Whether they were smart or stupid or sweet or cruel, it didn't matter. She didn't like to be alone”. I think that’s suuuuch an interesting acting experience for someone who has to play Lucy. The actress is four or five years younger than the other actors but Lucy is canonically 19 years old so I think that’s fine.

Arthur Holmwood

Simon Castle: Arthur was THE HARDEST to cast for me, I don't know why. I wanted a young noodle-ly boy with a sweet face but also a bit of a trust fund kid kind of vibe and I guess it was a hard balance to strike.

Quincey Morris

Dacre Montgomery: do I even have to say anything? Just look at the pictures… perfect actor for a perfect himbo.

Jack Seward

Charlie Rowe: I decided on this actor after seeing him in Rocketman; at first he seems like a big shot producer but then the real guy shows up and makes fun of him (that whole thing was too Jack and Van Helsing for me to ignore). I couldn’t decide between clean shaven and slight stubble so I put both.

Abraham Van Helsing

Mads Mikkelsen: I don't know yall. I just really like Mads okay?

#dracula daily #dracula #fan cast

[bi-bard]

Y'all...

I watched I Came By on Netflix.

Looks like I have a new man to rip to absolute shreds.

#i came by #i came by netflix #netflix #george mackay #film #imagine #fanfiction #x reader

[akajustmerry]

I would also go insane over a trc show but also kinda hope one never gets made bc I know how picky I am abt adaptations of books I love

HOWEVER, every time I watch reservation dogs I think abt how good Paulina alexis would be as blue, and every time I watch his dark materials I think abt how good amir Wilson would be as Adam, then I spend the next half hour imagining how I would adapt trc for tv

Anyway, I know fan casting teen characters is hard bc it gives you a very narrow age range of actors to choose from, but do you have any actors you think would be really good as a trc character? Even actors who have aged out of the roles now but would have been good when they were younger (for me it's Robert Sean Leonard as Gansey)

okay I delayed answering this until I had a cast in my head but omg yes Amir Wilson as Adam is perfect!! My fancast for the rest would be:

young Keke Palmer as Blue

young George Mackay as Gansey

young Archie Renaux as Ronan Lynch

Noah Schnapp as Noah Czerny (sorry to type cast him here but he would be so good)

Aja Naomi King as Maura

Lisa Bonnet as Neeve

Justina Muchado as Calla

Yara Shahidi as Orla

Danielle Brooks as Jimi

Eva Green as Persephone (to fill the Penny Dreadful Vanessa Ives shaped whole in my heart)

Young Alden Ehrenreich as Kavinsky

Young Ki Hong Lee as Henry Cheng

Rami Malek as The Grey Man

Did I miss anyone?? Anyways, this was fun to think about thank you for asking, legend 😊

#the raven cycle #anon

[scotianostra]

November 14th 1910 saw the birth of poet Norman MacCaig, at 15 East London Street Edinburgh

He made his living as a primary-school teacher. He was a lifelong pacifist and during World War II served a term in prison for his beliefs. There is a suggestion that this became a shadow over his subsequent career and that advancement was blocked because of it.

I've said this before but I sometimes wish I had been born a few decades earlier, having started drinking in Milnes Bar in the late 80's/early 90's so I missed the likes of MacCaig, Tom Scott, George Mackay Brown, Robert Garioch and Hugh MacDiarmid who used frequent the place, especially MacCaig and MacDiarmid, who used engage in flyting, which had it's origins in medieval times. Flyting is a ritual, poetic exchange of insults, if you think of modern day rap battles, then take it back several hundred years and in old language, you get the idea, I can imagine being at the bar listening to these word smiths joust with each other.

Anyway when MacCaig eventually left teaching he was appointed Edinburgh University’s first Writer in Residence in 1967. In 1970 he joined the English Department of Stirling University, becoming Reader in Poetry. He retired in 1978 and enjoyed a long period as a freelance poet. He died on 23rd January 1996.

I love a wee poem to myself in posting and this one I can really relate to them having spent many an November night out in the cold nights in Edinburgh.

November night, Edinburgh.

The night tinkles like ice in glasses.

Leaves are glued to the pavement with frost.

The brown air fumes at the shop windows,

Tries the doors, and sidles past.

I gulp down winter raw. The heady

Darkness swirls with tenements.

In a brown fuzz of cottonwool

Lamps fade up crags, die into pits.

Frost in my lungs is harsh as leaves

Scraped up on paths. – I look up, there,

A high roof sails, at the mast-head

Fluttering a grey and ragged star.

The world’s a bear shrugged in his den.

It’s snug and close in the snoring night.

And outside like chrysanthemums

The fog unfolds its bitter scent.

#scotland #scottish #history #edinburgh #Makar #Poet #Teacher

[georgemackayhey]

Now that we are talking about your marvelous George Mackay series. I'm so obsessed with Rules to fall in love. Is there a way we can get a blurb anytime soon. Like when George and the reader are further into their relationship. Something like, really romantic and wholesome.

thank you thank you thank you nonny! im still so proud of that series... here is a little glimpse into their future for ya ;)

The pair of you fell in love in that little house outside of the city. The first place George purchased that wasn't some dilapidated apartment. The first place you'd felt comfortable overstaying your welcome in. But you were both ready for a change, for a bigger kitchen and a dining room with space enough to host your own weekend dinner parties.

George started scouting out for places in your price range, and with enough windows and garden space to keep you happy. After months of considering the pros and cons of many an English countryside villa, you'd both decided on the picture perfect ranch. It took you no time at all to pack up and start to settle in, after some taxing weeks of repairs and painting parties.

Once the home was relatively set up, there was less clutter and more room to fill up than you knew what to do with. George wondered aloud about using one of the few spare rooms as a library. You wondered about game nights and movie nights and all the wonderful ways you'd get to use your new kitchen.

Then came time for the house warming, planned entirely by George's sister. She ordered take away, corralled Dean and Claire into bringing desserts everyone tore through before dinner arrived; and her parents to bring wines that you stored away for future celebrations. Your new home was filled with the same old familiar faces you'd loved for a long time. You gushed about planning more parties and George's sweet sister hoped to stop back by tomorrow with board games in tow.

"Sorry sweet girl, but we've got some different plans." You frowned, ensuring that it wouldn't be too long before her wishes came true, though.

"We do?" George cocked a brow from the big leather sofa and peered your way. He didn't know it yet, but you had something up your sleeve.

"We do."

The next night you scurried to light candles and set up the vinyl player and spent hours watching George's favorite meal cooking to perfection. It was ready just as you saw his headlights reflecting up the driveway. You set up the table with your heartbeat in your throat, mixing your husbands favorite drink.

"What's all this?" He laughed, shuffling through the door. Everything was perfect.

"Come, sit, drink!" You demanded, reaching out to drag the man to the spot you'd set for him at the table. You gestured toward the rum and coke you'd made him and sat at adjacent seat at the head of the table.

"Are we celebrating, again? I can't believe you went through all this trouble." George's bright eyes shone as he scanned the set table.

"I wanted the first meal I made to be your favorite. And... we are celebrating again, because I've discovered the perfect way to set up one of our spare rooms."

"Well pour yourself a drink, love, we'll toast to our home settling into perfect shape as you tell me every detail of this new idea of yours!" He held his glass in his hand, watching you and waiting with a smile. You smiled too, but stayed settled in your chair.

"I can't drink, George." You hoped he'd gathered the confession behind your statement, and wondered why you were so nervous about what you were positively certain would be received as good news by your husband.

You watched as George heard you, you watched as the words processed in his head, as he connected the dots about how you'd known what to do with one of those spare rooms.

"You're-"

"Almost three months now, the doctor says."

George sprang from his seat and latched onto you in the blink of an eye, you never saw him move, you just felt his encapsulating hold all of a sudden. He spoke so fast you could barely understand a word but you could tell by the tone in his voice he was the happiest he'd ever been.

George rambled about how this was the best news and the best night and how much he loved you. He kissed you again and again and again until you had to push him back to his seat.

"I spent all damn night making you this dinner so you're going to have to keep your hands to yourself until you've eaten every fucking bite."

You chuckled, and he did too, as you wiped away a few stray tears from his stunning face.

"Are we to write out a set of rules for this? What do you think?" He asked between bites of food and after thanking you for making it so wonderfully.

"Luckily I think there are already enough rule books out there for this sort of thing." You laughed. "We may want to make a game plan for telling your family though. Your sister is going to rocket off to the moon and your mother may have a heart attack and perish before she gets to enjoy this grandchild she'd been begging me for before you and I even said 'I do' or slept together for that matter."

The pair of you laughed and dreamed of the future and you boasted over your well made dinner and George did in fact eat every last bite. No matter how unorthodoxly you'd come into making this your reality, your every day, you were more glad with each passing moment that George decided too fall in love with you, too.

#george mackay #george mackay fanfic #george mackay imagine #“im back bitches”

[unravellingsilencehq]

“Oh, Merlin, tell me, does THE CHALLENGER get what he deserves?” He is in THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX & OPEN to finding out. 

— he walks through the world as ;

name → arthur weasley pronouns → he/him identification → cis male year of birth → september 1955 - september 1956 face claim → george mackay blood status → pure-blood sexual orientation → up to applicant occupation → researcher for the department of magical law enforcement at the ministry of magic future information → father of fred, george, ronald, and ginvera weasley

— he is best described as ;

The UNIQUE amongst the ordinary, built up with an abundance of LOVE and IMAGINATION. He is the FRIENDLY face you see actively listening, the CURIOSITY when met with the unknown, the voice of STRENGTH and SUPPORT when times seem dark. He is the FIGHTER for all things good. Under the CAREFUL PROTECTION of those he loves, he can see the LIGHT that peaks through the end of a long storm.

— his story starts with ;

Being a family of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, it would be expected that Arthur Weasley was born into the usual lap of luxury so many others were but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Even with Cedrella Weasley being from the prominent Black family, her marriage to Septimus brought nothing except her estrangement from the Noble and Ancient House of Black. Instead Arthur’s childhood was spent in a large country cottage located in Ottery St. Catchpole, passed down from generation to generation, fondly named The Burrow. A home that was as comfortable as it was quaint and Arthur wouldn’t have it any other way. He had many memories of dishes washing themselves, kettles singing songs when they were ready to be poured, running through various hallways with BILLIUS WEASLEY [brother] and ALFRED WEASLEY [brother]. Overall, Arthur and his brothers lived the sort of childhood Muggle children would read about in storybooks; surrounded by all sorts of magic but never given any expectations to how he was supposed to live. He could just enjoy the magic for what it was: magic.

The laughter and fun of the Burrow only grew when his cousins came around. With DAISY HOOKUM [cousin] so close in age, it was only natural that Arthur became close with her. Daisy understood him in many ways his other family members could not, she lived in her own fantasy world and Arthur was more than happy to go along with her on the adventure. Daisy’s adventures also tended to include her younger sibling IRIS HOOKUM [cousin], trailing along behind them as Arthur led them through the various fields surrounding his home. During one of these trips outside, the wizard had come to discover a mismatched cube of colors sitting amongst the dirt. Arthur had never known any other families in the area besides the few wizarding families just over the hill, so why such a contraption was just innocently sitting there was beyond him but he carried it with him everywhere. It juggled around in his pocket as he picked up his Hogwarts robes with Daisy, it was his comfort as he stood in line to be sorted at Hogwarts and it was only in the safety of Gryffindor’s common room that he even brought it into the light.

He had been rather surprised when a blonde haired witch sat down next to him and told him it was called a Rubik's Cube. LILIAS ROSMERTA [best friend] gathered it in her hands, fingers shifting the pieces quickly, and finally tossing it back to him with all the sides matching colors. She had been his first friend outside of his cousins and Arthur discovered quickly she was the person who would hold all the answers to his questions. Lilias was a loud and outgoing Muggle Born, having only heard of the wizarding world from her older sister until her Hogwarts letter arrived. It was through Lilias that Arthur became acquainted with KALEB JOHNSON [friend] and COINNEATH MCKINNON [friend]. They became a close knit group and watching Lilias and Kaleb be targeted for their blood, sparked Arthur’s interest in activism. Something that came in between him and his brothers quickly. He found himself getting in trouble for raising his wand towards those who chose to bully students that were believed lesser than them. While his brothers were making plans to join a respectable career path, Arthur was busy arguing with LUCIUS MALFOY [adversary] in the school hallways. 

There was an obvious strain in the family as his brothers wrote to him to watch his tongue and hold back on the detentions. Though the strain lessened when Arthur began getting close to MIRAY WEASLEY [wife], back then Molly Polat, another member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. It was Molly’s love for her friends and family that drew Arthur in; she wore her heart on her sleeve and often found herself putting others' needs above her own. By the time graduation from Hogwarts came around, Arthur and Molly were in a serious relationship and he had accepted Billius’ help in acquiring a job as a researcher at the Ministry of Magic in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. There wasn’t much in the job that was exciting to him, that was until he discovered the overpiling of Muggle Artifacts in the Auror’s Office. Most of the artifacts had been tampered with by dark wizards and handed over to Muggles with the intent of harming them. It was a string of objects leading to Muggle fatalities all around London that brought KINGSLEY SHACKLEBOLT [friend/colleague] into his life along with the Order of the Phoenix. 

Arthur had been working with Kingsley to reverse the curses on the objects when the man had approached the topic of the Order. Having heard of Arthur’s activism in school and seeing his spell casting abilities firsthand, Kingsley had thought Arthur would be a perfect member to the team. It came as a shock to him at first, but Arthur quickly agreed to join, anything to help combat the darkness that was slowly taking hold of the world. Shortly after joining up with the Order, Molly had come to him and announced she was pregnant. With Arthur’s eyes opened to what the world was going through and how that would affect their future family’s future, he brought up the idea of an elopement. Despite being surprised, Molly had accepted and they had been married before 1981 was over, welcoming their first child William ‘Bill’ shortly after. But their happiness only lasted so long, Molly’s parents were quick to disown her for marrying a blood traitor. Arthur stood beside her as any good husband should and did what he could to help her through the difficult time. Things did not get better in 1982, despite them discovering they would welcome their second child, Charlie, instead it seemed the chaos was just starting.

The night of the Summer Solstice ball seemed to haunt Arthur, watching Lilias faint in the middle of the party before being transported off to St. Mungo had left an unsettling feeling in his stomach. The feeling only intensified as ALASTOR MOODY [mentor] ordered him and ALICE YEN [friend/colleague] to return to the Fountain of Fair Fortune to protect the prophecy the Order had obtained. Once they stepped foot in the bar, it became known they were vastly outnumbered and unfortunately found themselves in St. Mungo’s as well, the prophecy long gone. While Arthur was happy to have made it out alive to be home with Molly, Bill, and Charlie, he was fearful as Alastor relayed the events that took place at the ball after he had left. Having welcomed their third child, Percy, in the beginning of 1984, Arthur had high hopes that the world would be stepping up to fight against the Dark Lord but it seemed people had gone into hiding for their own safety. He’s spent the last two years alternating his time at home with Molly and the boys and working with the Order to figure out why the Death Eaters have seemingly gone silent. Obviously they’re planning for something big and Arthur is ready to be on the front lines to fight for a better world for his family.

— he is a LEVEL 6 WIZARD & readied for war ;

#harry potter rp #lsrpg #rp #arthur weasley #george mackay #order member #1955 to 1956 #ministry #m billius weasley #m alfred weasley #m daisy hookum #m iris hookum #m lilias rosmerta #m kaleb johnson #m coinneach mckinnon #m lucius malfoy #m kingsley shacklebolt #m alastor moody #m alice yen #m miray weasley #open #open order member #open wizard

[sassy-ahsoka-tano]

ARCHEOLOGICAL DRAMA?? REGENCY ROMANCE??? MIMS BESTIE I NEED DETAILS NOW 👀💕

omg okay!! i kinda already described the archaeology one and i can't think of anything else to say that won't give something away ahahaha

BUT the regency one just really gives me life when i have the energy to work on it. i'm such a slut for good slow burn romances and historical settings are such a conducive environment for that, especially the victorian and regency eras 🥴 thank you propriety and harsh social judgment

BUT basically that one follows two childhood friends, George and Adelaide, as they try to navigate their family's expectations for them. It takes place in britain ofc, but George has been away at war in America and Addie got sent away to girl's manner school to make her more obedient, so they both have personal growth to do. they reconnect years later as adults so it's mostly just about them navigating familial expectations and their love for each other.

i have sooo many details to iron out. i worry that i make original characters too predictable or basic when i want them to be ✨ different ✨ . i'm a tropey writer and i feel like that's bad for novels but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

i also love working on the regency one cause i can imagine george as whoever i want (although you could probably guess that i originally started it when i was DEEP in a george mackay phase, hence his name 💀 )

#answered #sagey 💜 #i have like 12 projects going and i never work on any of them dnaifuewi