#mcnully

[ardentmuse]

Can we just talk about this exchange for a minute???

I'm so, so in love with this boy. This is so well-articulated and honestly something I think a lot of us struggle(d) with, especially as teenagers. Not specifically being in a wheelchair necessarily, but the desire to be seen as a whole person.

So, so in love 💕💕💕💕

[callmederok]

Hi! I was wondering what's Daniel take on the new characters from the latest quidditch update?

If we assume that all the quidditch side-quest happens during Year 2(that’s the requirement for accessing to this side-quest: being in year 2 and completed chapter 6), here the situation of David(then i’ll answer your actual question ^^):

- Because he tried(and failed) to resurrect his mother with FMA-alchemy, he doesn’t have the sense of touch(so for him, even walking needs his concentration because he doesn’t feel the ground under him)

- Depressed because the ghost of his mother, tries to force him to befriend Merula(even though, she knows that she tried to kill him the during the first year) because her parents are deatheaters.

- At the same time the situation is not even near to the absolute shitstorm he will face during and after Year 4, so he is slowly being involved in nice activities that Hogwarts may offer, and enjoying them(like the flying lessons)

- Since the first Flying Lesson, he tries every excuse to fly a little, he doesn’t feel nothing, but the idea of flying around, free like a bird, helps to not thinking about his absent father, his grandfather who lives not far from Hogsmeade(and obsess him over studying more Alchemy) his crazy ghost-mother and Jacob being imprisoned in the vaults

Now the actual answer:

He is shying a lot about Penny being a super Quidditch-fan(unexpected, to the point that i had to change my mental headcanons about since when, David is interested in Penny) but pretty much pumped up with confidence thanks to her.

Then the is Face Paint Kid, David is annoyed by him, not for the quiz but because his nickname is soooo long, and also the officialism of the quiz, he asked himself if someone nominated him to be the “Quidditch-quiz guy” like a teacher nominates a prefect.

He agrees with Skye, and as a matter of fact, after the Quidditch Side-quest, David will work on improving her training-menù, and after that he will do it every day of the week, to the point to wake up at the dawn and asking to his foster-mother(Badea’s mom) to send him some weights and extra protections for quidditch, so we can say that Skye had a big impact on David, also she shares a little bit of guilt for making David more cynical.

MCNully/The Commentator and the team’s leader…well i did’t come to that part yet…but The Commentator will also leave some important trait on/in David: when you’re talking…go straight to the point or you will annoy people around you…

They’re both have different disabilities, David doesn’t judge or insults McNully, even after David regains his sense of touch, he still judges people for who they’re on a personality level, rather than race/religion/disabilities/gender&sexuality, the only real prejudice he has it’s about either you’re Merula Snyde/Emily Tyler…he hates Merula(for many reasons), and he mocks Emily for being a gold digger/social climber who is too much attached to the idea of being rich or politically-powerful, who will never truly love or being loved.

Sorry but i low on coins in the game, so i didn’t reached the Team Leader(or whom else is left) yet…sorry for the incomplete answer ç_ç

[ardentmuse]

Chalk and Leather (Murphy McNully x Reader)

DISCOVERING AMORTENTIA SMELLS LIKE MURPHY McNULLY TO YOU

Harry Potter Hogwarts Mystery - Murphy McNully x fem!Reader

A/N: Since we just finished up the valentine’s day quest, got to give some love to the characters we can’t date. :) 

Masterlist

“What do you smell, Y/N?” Skye asks you as you stand what should have been a safe distance from the cauldron Snape has bubbling in the middle of his classroom. Streams of pink smoke loft occasionally into the air as your professor’s voice continues to cut through the crowd, droning on about how you need to study amortentia to know how to identify it and therefore avoid it. A better policy seems to be just don’t touch any potions you don’t know.

You try hard not to lean forward but it is intoxicating. Skye elbows you and raises her eyebrows; clearly hoping your nose might provide some juicy gossip.

“I smell chalk and freshly cut grass and—“

Your eyes find the real thing you are smelling on the other side of the room. Murphy McNully, one of your dearest friends, is beside Rowan, the two chatting in hushed tones about something or the other. He laughs — the kind of bright, full laugh that consumes his whole face — and you feel the warm trickle in your chest you haven’t been able to explain for weeks, at least until this very moment.

“Leather and shoe polish,” you finish with a whisper. The words flow from your mouth like they’re the solutions to a riddle because they are. You are in love with Murphy McNully and somehow you hadn’t put two and two together until it was right under your nose.

You take another whiff and enjoy the fragrance you associate only with your rambling friend. It’s a pleasant blend of masculine comforts, rustic and warm like the boy himself. McNully catches your eyes across the room. He smiles, always so friendly, though something in your face must be off because he frowns soon after, returning his attention to Rowan and the rest of your class on his side of the room.

“That’s an odd collection of scents,” Skye muses. “I just smell the pitch.”

“Predictable. Maybe I’ll give those bludgers some amortentia next practice and see if they’ll chase after you like some lovesick puppies so I can take the day off.”

Skye cackles even though your joke wasn’t that funny and Snape snaps at the both of you.

“Is this stuff getting to your head, Parkin? Making you dumb?”

“No, Professor.”

“Then I advise you keep your voice down and pay attention,” Snape says, speaking to Skye but looking at you as well.

“Yes, Professor.”

Snape turns on his heels and heads back towards his desk. Skye lets out a breath, shaking off her scolding. You wish you could shake off your feelings, too: joy, fear, anxiety, doubt, hope, and love above all the others. 

As the class ends, your quidditch crew prepares to leave and head to the pitch for practice. McNully usually never misses an opportunity to come with you all and practice his announcing skills but when Skye calls out his name in the corridor of the dungeon, he mumbles something under his breath. He doesn’t even meet your gaze as he rolls down the hall and out of sight.

“Someone’s a little grumpy.”

The worry fills your chest like a balloon, making it hard to breath. 

“Isn’t that odd, though? He’s always chipper.”

“So are you and you look like a house elf denied her supper,” Skye laughs, patting you on the back as she runs ahead to catch up with Orion and the rest of the gang. But you can’t join in the joyous run. McNully is somewhere less than pleased about whatever he saw on your face during potions.

You arrive at the locker rooms and change into your quidditch gear, a little slower than usual. Your brain won’t stop replaying images of the dinners spent playing wizard chess with the dimpled blond currently getting situated in the announcer’s booth, the late nights in the common room, your legs up on his lap, memorizing quidditch strategy, and the after-match hang outs where you often found excuses to be close to him, grab his hand, and congratulate him on commentary you arguably didn’t hear given your focus on the match. How had you not seen before just how much he meant to you and just how many of your tiny fantasies about how nice it would be to have a boyfriend involved soft blue eyes just as you closed your eyes to be kissed or running your hands down crisp white collars as you snuggle close in front of the fire, or the pleasant warm laughter of mirth-filled lungs as warm hands run through your hair, just as soft and strong as McNully’s? Everything you hoped for had been right in front of you for well over a year.

When the team assembles and takes to the air, you heard the faint calls of Murphy’s voice from the booth as you bat at the first bludger. He had come to practice after all, just not with you.

“And Y/L/N whacks the bludger away from Parkin with a—“

There is an odd and long silence that follows and it seems the whole team notices. The entire friendly slows, each broom taking to a lazy bob as your team’s statistician stands in stasis. 

“… some level of accuracy,” he finally says with a cough. 

Murphy is struggling with numbers? That’s odd, you think and it seems everyone else is as confused as you, that is at least until Orion screams for you to focus from the other end of the field, clearly not wanting to lose practice time. But he doesn’t even need to call you from your daze. A rogue bludger is already heading for your team’s latest addition, Oliver Wood.

You fly as fast as you can, swooping down towards the goal posts in hopes of intercepting the ball as the rest of the team resumes play. With a great push, you dangle down from your broom and swing low, just hitting the edge of the wall and knocking it back towards the pitch below.

“And with an impressive show of athleticism, Y/L/N managed to protect our young keeper from a bludger that was—“

Murphy coughs like there is a frog in his throat. It’s alarming and your heart pulls for him. Without a thought for anything but wanting to make sure he is okay, you fly down towards the box where Murphy is sitting. His head is in his hands and his face is redder than it normally is. When he sees you, his eyes bug out a little, but he looks away. His attention is back on the game. He straightens his shoulders and begins commentating again.

“And Parkin shoots for the upper left and misses! A rare miss for the ace chaser, whom this season alone has scored 92.4% of shots on open goals in sunny weather.”

Wait, how come that stat was not an issue?

You hover a bit and stare at the boy who is proving quite the enigma. Your chest heaves a bit as you consider what might be happening, but out of the corner of your eye a stream of black comes barreling through. 

Instinctively, you press forward and swing your bat just as the bludger enters into Murphy’s commentary box. The bludger flies away to the east just as McNully covers his face, prepared for a sure to be painful smack right to the noggin. Your momentum however doesn’t stop just because you managed to knock the ball away. You pull up on your broom but can’t stop and land right down on top of Murphy, curling up in his lap as his wheelchair slides back into the wall. His arms wrap around you protectively, covering your head as the house banners fall down upon you in a giant crash. 

Once your crash ends and the chaos subsides, you realize exactly where you are; seated on Murphy’s lap with his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, canopied in the privacy of fallen tapestries. Murphy’s breathing is hard as his hands curl into the flesh of your back.

And for the first time since potions, he smiles.

“Y/L/N with the greatest save of the day,” he whispers, his hand reaching up to wipe a bit of dust off your cheek. 

You face is hot as you look deeply into Murphy’s eyes, unable to stop the smile on your face, too. And somehow, suddenly, everything feels right.

“And what were my chances of making it?” 

He slides his hand into your hair as he tilts your face up to him.

“I haven’t a bloody clue.” 

He shakes his head and laughs, his cheeks turning the brightest red you’ve ever seen. You start to speak but his voice interrupts you.

“I can’t think of a single thing but you when you’re near, you know that?” 

“I— I can’t either.”

Murphy laughs, the hearty kind you missed just a little, and the matching smile on his face only makes it better. He pulls you closer to him, letting you rest your head against his chest. He takes a deep and stabilizing breath.

“Lilac,” he says more to himself than you, “And fresh clean linens.” 

And now it is your turn to smile as you realize Murphy knows your scent, too— two people attracted by nothing other than each other. It’s impossible to resist the urge, just like this morning in Snape’s classroom, to draw closer to the source of such joy. Every part you longs to lift upward, to taste the thing you’ve been craving so intensely, the thing you didn’t know you needed.

“Y/N! Y/N! Are you okay?” Skye is screaming from somewhere near by. You hear the scrambled sounds of brooms dropping onto the deck and footsteps rushing to your aid.

But McNully doesn’t care. His hand takes your chin and he kisses you full on, not wasting a moment to seal your newly-declared affections. And all you can do is melt into him.

A faint breeze hits your face and you look up to see Skye standing now under the banners, her eyes filled with mischief as she takes you in.

“That chalk smell makes a whole lot of sense now.”

Murphy’s eyes bug out of his head as he pushes back on you.

“I smell… like chalk to you?”

“Among other things.”

He laughs, “I’ll have you know my spell for the chalk board reduces chalk use by 68.3% over traditional writing methods.”

You can’t help but smile. He’s back in all his quirkiness and something about the fact that he can be himself with you in his arms, open about your feelings, brings you more joy than you can say. And that joy is the kind of joy you hope to have every night moving forward with the boy who smells like chalk and leather by your side and loving you fully.

All tags: @fangirlandnerd, @aerdnandreaa, @thisisbullshytt,  @cancerousjojian, @whovianayesha, @themarauderstheoutsidersandpeggy, @luna-xxxxx, @sleepylunarwolf, @starryrevelations, @potter-thinking, @all-by-myself98, @bananafosters-and-books, @cutie-bug, @igotmadskills, @hazelandcoconuts, @yallgotkik, @amberkay284, @the-new-galahad, @13ofjuly, @daft-not-punk

Harry Potter tags: @tessimagines​, @0-lost-in-stereo-0, @whysoseriouspadfoot, @eldritchscreech​, @luckyvirgo​, @hellizhelusive2​, @lexrius, @sapphireorchid​, @amazingwonderlandnapkin, @garbdump​

[mlleecrivaine]

Infinitesimal

Author’s Note:  My friend @moirasterling and I decided to each write a story about the same character with the same basic premise and see how we diverged.  She very graciously allowed the character to be Murphy because she knows I am weak.  You can find her story here.

Word Count:  1,239

Pairing:  Murphy McNully x reader

Warnings:  No pronouns were used in the writing of this reader!  Slight jealous!Murphy.  Fluff.  Statistics.  Soulmate!AU.

Summary:  McNully discovers your soulmate mark and it isn’t what he expected.

---

“I dunno, Murphy,” you said, standing your broom up against the side of  your cubby.  “It’s going to be a hard match, no matter what approach we take.”

“Well of course it’s going to be tough, there’s only a 51.3% chance that we’re going to win,” he said, turning his palms up.  “What matters is what we do with that 1.3% advantage, and I think that the best way to leverage it will be with the Thimblerig Shuffle.  Now I know it didn’t go off so well last time, but I’m willing to chalk that up to nerves.”

You laughed.

“I certainly was nervous, it was the first time your move has ever been used in a game!” you said, turning and giving McNully a bright smile.  “I didn’t want to mess it up for you and, well…”

McNully felt his heart squeeze a little at the sheepish look you gave him now.  It was true, in 99.8% of your friendlies and practices, the move went off without a hitch, and it was also true that in actual game time his brainchild had a 100% failure rate… but combined that was still a pretty good chance that it might work out if they tried it again.

“Never mind that,” McNully pressed on, trying to keep his tone level even though you had begun undoing the strings on your padding.  “The point is, I have complete faith in you to do it right in the next match.”

“That’s a lot to live up to, Murphy,” you said, pulling your chest pad over your head.

“When are you finally going to start calling me McNully?  I’ve forgiven you and everything!” he insisted.

You shook your head and put your arm pads in the cubby with everything else.

“Fine, McNully.”

“That’s more like it!”

“I um… I need to keep changing, I need to go meet Bill in the library.”

McNully forced a smile.  Though as much as he liked Bill, he was getting awfully tired of hearing about him.  You’d never said as much, but he was pretty sure the two of you were soulmates.  You were perfectly in sync on this whole curse-breaking, vault-hunting business and McNully would swear that it was in the top 5% of obvious matchups he’d ever seen.

Even so, his heart hurt every time he stopped to think about how it would never work between the two of you.  You were incredible; skilled at everything you put your mind to, courageous to a fault, and so, so kind.  And here he was, loud and present and rather single-minded, if he admitted it to himself, and although he wanted to be with you, he knew he couldn’t be.  All the soulmate couples he had ever met were evenly matched and clicked well with each other.  Your compatibility score was somewhere in the range of 13.6 by McNully’s approximation, if he was being generous, and that was nothing compared to the near 95% match he’d put you at with Bill Weasley.

“Well I don’t want to keep you from that.”  Was his tone chipper enough?  “I suppose I’ll see you at practice tomorrow, then.”

“Can’t wait.  See you then!” you answered with a small wave and went to remove your shirt.

McNully tried to avert his eyes but not before he caught sight of a shape on the side of your ribs.  A golden snitch, the wings half unfurled as it prepared to take flight.  Exactly the same as his.

“Mur- McNully?”

He looked up at the sound of your voice.  You watched him uneasily.  There was no room to pretend he wasn’t staring.

“I, um.”  He coughed.  “I just saw your soulmate mark.”

“Oh,” you said, lifting a hand to cover it.  He wanted to tear your hand away and run his own fingers over it.  He already knew every twist and swirl… “Yeah, kind of an inconvenient place.”  You laughed nervously.

“Not the easiest to just show people,” he mused.

“Pretty good odds I’d just scare someone away casually lifting my shirt in the middle of a conversation,” you added with an awkward smile.

“Pretty good odds,” he echoed.  His eyes skimmed back down to your hand and he lifted his own to his collar and started popping buttons with one hand and loosening his tie with the other.

“Um… McNully…” you hesitated.

He popped the third one down and yanked his collar to the side, exposing the hollow of his collarbone where it met his shoulder.

Your eyes widened and you dropped your hand, letting the shirt fall to cover the mark once again.

“It’s… it’s the same one, right?  It’s not just me hallucinating?  Because really the odds that I’m hallucinating, or making things up is actually really high because I really, really fancy you and… and…”

Your fingers skimmed the mark on his skin and the feather-light touch like the wing of a snitch itself nearly made him faint.

“It’s the same one,” you whispered.

McNully gulped.

“Are you upset?” he asked.

Your eyes finally lifted to his.

“What?  Why would I be upset?”

“Well because I’m not Bill-”

You burst out laughing and McNully had to crack a smile.  You pressed your hand down on his collarbone and looked him dead in the eye.

“I know you’re not Bill,” you said.  “You’re Murphy McNully, and that’s all you need to be.”

“So… so you’re not upset?”

“No!”

You took your hand off his skin and he suddenly felt very cold.  Lifting your shirt again, you took the whole thing off, leaving you fairly exposed such that Murphy felt a powerful blush overtake him.

“Do you really think a mark like this would match Bill of all people?” you questioned, turning to show him the mark again.

“Can I?” he asked, reaching out gingerly.

You nodded and he placed his fingers on your skin.  The warmth radiating off of you made his heart hurt in all the right ways and he wanted to snake his hand around your waist right then, but he also wanted to trace every line of the snitch on your ribs to make sure that each line was identical to his so that there would be no room for error when he finally said it.

“We’re soulmates,” you breathed.

He looked up at your heavy-lidded eyes that flicked from where his fingers touched you to his face.  He grinned.

“The chances of this are infinitesimal,” he said.

“And yet here we are,” you replied.

McNully swallowed hard as he realized that he might finally be able to do everything he’d wanted to with you.  Ultimately, he figured, why wait?

“Can I hold you?” he asked.

You raised your eyebrows but nodded.

He took your hand and spun you gently before tugging you down into his lap.  He wrapped one arm around your middle and the other around your shoulders.  Letting his nose wander into your hair, he revelled in the sound of you giggling softly in his ear.  Your hand wound itself into his hair.

“I’m so glad it’s you,” he murmured after a few moments.

“Me too,” you admitted, hiding your face in his neck.

He smiled into the side of your head and carefully pressed his lips above your ear.

“What about meeting Bill?” he asked as he let his fingers trail down your spine and back up again.

“Bill can wait.”

[tea-atfive]

McNully with a puppy? OMG 😭💚