hopeless wanderer

not all who wander { bill&fleur }

She must have changed what she was wearing at least five times before she decided she was happy with herself. Whilst she was excited about the prospect of losing herself with him in a city, of finding something new to do away from everything that she knew, but she didn’t know how she was meant to dress for this. In every other situation, she could be perfect, but this was completely new. Fleur wanted to impress him. Of course, she wanted to be more than her beauty, but if everything else failed, she wasn’t above relying on the way she looked. Which was why she spent so long staring at her own reflection in the mirror, changing into and out of a million different outfits until she settled in something simply in her school colours. It would be comforting, she thought, to have a part of her how with her as she threw herself into the unknown.

Fleur couldn’t wait to see Bill and it took everything in her to keep herself obeying the rules and not being there overly early. Five minutes was more than enough, her mother would say whenever she wanted to rush somewhere early. But Bill with his flaming hair and obsession with his boots was everything that she should never have wanted and she couldn’t help but be slightly intoxicated by that. It was exactly the kind of attention that she had been craving. She still remembered the first time that she had seen him, so proud stood there with his family whilst she was breaking into sweats over the thought of going into the maze. She remembered thinking that if she got back out, she would find a way to go and speak to him, congratulate Harry loud in front of his face. Instead, she’d been a shaking, crying mess, clinging to her Head Teacher as she saw the body of a boy she’d considered a friend, almost sick over the thought that is could have been her.

How far she had come from that moment. Her job secured and a few dates with him down the line and now she was stood in front of the Ministry looking around for the man she was about to go on a date with. She couldn’t deny that her stomach was flipping, that she wanted to find some place to put her hands that would seem completely natural. She was in a crowd of people, certain she was shining more than them all because of her happiness. Silently, she cursed her grandmother’s blood for the way it made it impossible to hide when she was truly happy. She was practically glowing there on the street, and finding it hard to calm herself as she smoothed down her skirt against her legs.

As he walked over and pressed his lips to hers, she found that she was experiencing a new wave of butterflies, unable to stop the pink blush that rose on her cheeks. At least she could trust that she would look partially endearing, which was one of the blessings that her blood seemed to hand her. In a moment of strange confidence, still giddy at the feeling of his lips so gentle but strong against her own, she slipped her hand into his wrapping her fingers around his own and grinning at the feeling. How strange it was to be so brash. Fleur had never wanted to be the person to do something like that, she let others touch her as if she was something to be shared but never did she seek the comfort of another’s warmth so completely. “Non, you look wonderful, mon cher.” She teased, her voice full of laughter and humour. “Perfect for an adventure, no?”

#[ the new adventure;; ]#p: not all who wander #p

{W}hen Bill was young, he pledged that one day, he would live as Odysseus. He would travel endlessly, meet new people, try new things, and at the end of it all, he’d return to his family -- though he always expected that family to be the Weasleys, not Penelope, so perfect that she had to fend off suitors for twenty years. Now, that idea was shifting. Bill didn’t even think he wanted to return to his Penelope, not when she was so willing to travel with him. Why be without her even for a day?

“Then we ought to start exploring,” Bill said, squeezing her hand. He meant to pull away and start leading Fleur down the street, but he loved the proximity, loved how they didn’t have to be cautious (well, respectful) while at work. He kissed her again and nearly slid his hand into her hair before he remembered how perfectly styled it was. Later.

When he pulled away, he was already smiling again. “You shouldn’t be allowed to be so addictive, I hope you know that.” He took a step back, was surprised to notice how the electricity that constantly bounced between them didn’t lessen with distance. “This way,” he said, pulling Fleur towards the opposite end of the street. There were significantly less people this way than from the direction Fleur had come from, but the streets were just as bright and inviting. “The more people, the more there is to do. The less people, the more there is to find.” And he knew a lot less about the West side of London.

She didn’t want to think about how much she must be blushing, how awkward all of her replies had been. For the first time in her life, she wanted to fidget, to do something that would make the moment between the feel less like some strange sort of fire was burning. Still, Fleur smiled wide at his attempt at French, ignoring completely that the accent faltered because coming from him it felt so much like home. “Very good. Though Mademoiselle is very formal for thees situation.” She couldn’t help but compliment him, couldn’t help but want him to break out all the faltering french he knew simply so they could have something that was just between them for a moment. “Zen you should lead the way to your office. Mais, eef we pass my desk I ‘ave some macaroons zat my mother ‘as sent over. What’s a session without snacks, no?”

When Bill first returned from Egypt, his cheeks had been stained a wonderful stain of red only acquired after long days spent under the sun without a hat nearby. It’d been embarrassing to meet the most beautiful women that he’d ever laid eyes upon with cheeks so red they rivaled fire, but it had been able to mask the blush that spread over his cheeks anytime he spoke to her for more than a minute at a time. Now, he was left without such protection, and he could do nothing to qualm the heat flooding his cheeks. What situation were they in? How informal was he allowed to be? “You’ll have to tell me just what I can call you then, ma belle.” He placed a hand on her back as if to guide her down the hall. Rather than calm his need to initiate touch between them, it enhanced his desire to wrap his arms around her. “Snacks are a necessity, of course, but you’ll have to tell me what I’m in for. I’ve seen pictures of macaroons, but I’ve never had one myself.”

aurordora-blog

Faux Beau | Tonks & Bill

It seemed as though Tonks was not going to get Molly off her back about Bill. Every time she saw the woman she was telling her several long stories about how great a man her eldest son was and how she wished he’d settle down with a nice girl. And then Molly gave a pointed look aimed in her direction. There was nothing wrong with Bill, he was friendly and funny and definitely not unfortunate looking, but he felt like a brother to her. They’d known each other for over ten years, seen each other go through puberty. A history like that was near impossible to get over unless two people were meant for one another. And she was not meant for Bill. Tonks was at a point in her life where settling down or committing to just one person didn’t appeal to her. She was young and looking for fun, as much of it as she could have from as many witches or wizards she could have it with. However she was currently single and hadn’t been on a date in over a month. When Molly learned of this there was no stopping her until Tonks and Bill had to take matters into their own hands. She had no idea with his mother was saying to him but it must be similar to what she was saying to her. So they decided to give in and say they were going out, make quite a show of it and then let it end disastrously so that Molly didn’t try again. Tonks put on her most date-like attire and put her hair into red curls that would hopefully make Molly think she had her mind on romance. She made her way into the kitchen at Grimmauld Place where Molly was bustling around making dinner for an army and waited for Bill.

#;;no this is just fine #p #p: faux beau #[ colors of the wind;; ]

{M}um has been nothing short of unbearable recently. She had never cared much about who Bill dated or how often he had a date, but after he told her that he started dating Fleur, Mrs. Weasley had flown off the walls. “Not that part-Veela girl your brother fancied!” she’d exclaim, as if Ron’s love life (or lack thereof) somehow affected his own. “She’s far too young for you, Bill. You’re sure there’s not someone better suited? More your age? I heard that Ted’s girl was single. She’s a lovely match, you know. Adventurous just like you.”

Nothing he said seemed to matter. He reminded her that he was happy with his own choices, reminded her that he and Fleur are just dating right now, nothing serious. Sure, he brought her to Order meetings. Sure, he got her the job at Gringotts. Sure, he knew that no one would ever be as bright to him as Fleur, but Mrs. Weasley didn’t want to hear any of that. She’d had her eye on Tonks for years, apparently, and nothing would change her mind.

Bill wouldn’t have minded so much if it hadn’t been Tonks. She was one of Charlie’s closest friends, someone who was there for about as long as Bill could remember. She was a sister to him -- certainly not a love interest. But, of course, Mrs. Weasley didn’t understand as much. So, being a logical man, Bill devised a plan: a faux date. He’d date Tonks for a night, and they could “see where things go.” They’d go horribly, of course, and that horror would be exaggerated upon their return to the Burrow in the evening. It was full proof, or at least as full proof as something of this nature could be.

So Bill dressed up despite being uncomfortable in anything to dressy to wear boots with. He made sure he was on time (which meant he was only running five minutes later rather than fifteen), and he entered Grimmauld Place with as light as a step as he could muster given the circumstances. “Tonks,” he said upon seeing her (and forcing himself not to immediately look to his mother to gauge her reaction). “Red suits you. I’d tell you to wear your hair like that more often if I thought you were actually capable of keeping a color for longer than a day.”

mumuinfinity-blog

“Dare I even ask you, lad? Alright then, you’ve piqued my interest, if only to warn the others against such foul, congealed pastry cream.”

#[ constant vigilance;; ]#c

“They just look an awful lot like a line of sweets my brothers have been working on for the past few months. Good way to get out of class, they told me. I’m not entirely sure what they do, but I’m rather certain the result won’t be pleasant.”

not all who wander { bill&fleur }

{F}leur had been an enigma from the very first day Bill laid eyes on her. Beautiful, proper, enchanting, but multifaceted, headstrong, proud. He learned of her heritage moments after meeting her, and while her Veela blood was fascinating (and impossible to ignore), he was far more interested in the smile that seemed to be clouded by a haze of masks, layers upon layers of proper upbringing and social status. She had been out of his league, and Merlin she still was. But she had been interesting, and now she seemed to be a new, grand adventure. He never grew tired of her kiss, he always longed to make her laugh, and she never stopped surprising him.

Tonight had been a surprise all its own, actually. They had gone on a few dates before (to dinner, to get coffee, to a small musical act playing in a nearby bar. Now, Bill wanted to be less traditional. He wasn’t sure how Fleur would take to his proposal to just meet up and wander the streets of London in search of... well, he wasn’t quite sure what they were in search of yet, but he was certain something would pop up. It was an adventure rolled into a date, and when he proposed the idea at work a few days before, he expected Fleur’s nose to crinkle cutely and for her to say how she’d be sure to make proper reservations someplace. Instead, she had agreed whole-heartedly, and seemed perhaps more excited for this date than any other before it.

He straightened his jacket, a brown leather thing from a line whose mission was to blend the style of Wizards and Muggles, and looked around to see if Fleur had arrived yet. They had agreed to meet outside the visitor’s entrance to the Ministry, and Bill had made it a point to arrive fifteen minutes early. He didn’t want Fleur waiting alone on the streets. He didn’t want her to wait period, which had been the case before now. Bill, chronically late for just about everything, managed to make it on time each date, but she was always waiting patiently, perfectly poised and patient. Finally, he had turned the tables.

Unsurprisingly, Fleur still appeared five minutes early. Bill spotted her from a hundred yards away, when she was just a face in the crowd. She always seemed to glow when she was around people, drawing the most attention and demanding the most awe. Bill had been slack-jawed the first time his eyes fell upon her, but now he smiled. He walked to meet her, and once close he pressed his lips against hers briefly. “You look beautiful as always,” he said. “And, as always, I feel underdressed.”

#;;accidentally writes long starter #;;ilu sophie #;;also lemme know if the details are good #;; i based them off of our headcanons and such #p: not all who wander #[ the new adventure;; ]#p

quirks my muse habitually has

Writers, bold all of your character’s regular truths.

1. Smoking: the action or habit of inhaling and exhaling the smoke of tobacco or a drug. 2. Binge drinking: the consumption of an excessive amount of alcohol in a short period of time. 3. Drug abuse: the habitual taking of illegal drugs. 4. Nail biting: a common body language sign of anxiety/tension. 5. Lip biting: a common body language sign of anxiety/tension. 6. Night Owl: a person who is habitually active or wakeful at night. 7. Early bird: a person who rises, arrives, or acts before the usual or expected time. 8.Negative attitudes: a philosophy of approaching life with criticism and pessimism. 9. Positive attitudes: a philosophy of approaching life with optimism and confidence. 10. Swearing: the use of offensive language. 11. Superstitious: an irrational belief that an object, action, or circumstance not logically related to a course of events influences its outcome. 12. Inspecting fingernails: a common body language sign of boredom. 13. Scratching your neck: a common body language sign of uncertainty. 14. Foot and finger tapping: a common body language sign of stress/impatience. 15. Nose touch: a subtle body language sign of deceit. 16. Flipping hair: a common body language sign of craving attention. 17. Twirling hair: a common body language sign of flirtation. 18. Cracking knuckles: a common body language sign of readiness. 19. Hands behind back: a common body language sign of confidence. 20. Finger pointing: a common body language sign of authority. 21. Hands on hips: a common body language sign of readiness. 22. Hands in pockets: a common body language sign of mistrust/reluctance. 23. Frequent touch: a common body language sign of warmth/familiarity. (with familiars) 24. Throat-clearing: a common body language sign of rejection/doubt. 25. Jaw-clenching: a common body language sign of hostility. 26. Eye-rolling: a common body language sign of irritation. 27. Head-tilt: a common body language sign of interest. 28. Whistling: to emit high-pitched sound by forcing breakthrough a small hole between one’s lips or teeth; usually to a tune. 29. Humming: make a low, steady continuous sound like that of a bee; usually to a tune. 30. Perfectionism: refusal to accept any standard short of perfection. 31. Photographic memory: the ability to remember information or visual images in great detail. 32. Paranoia: a mental condition characterized by delusions of persecution, unwarranted jealousy, or exaggerated self-importance, typically worked into an organized system. 33. Exaggeration: a statement that represents something as better or worse than it really is. 34. Intuitive: using or based on what one feels to be true even without conscious reasoning; instinctive. 35. Quick-witted: showing or characterized by an ability to think or respond quickly and effectively. 36. Interrupting: breaking the continuity of a conversation with one’s own statements. 37. Doodling: to scribble or make rough drawings, absent-mindedly. 38. Irritable: having or showing a tendency to be easily annoyed. 39. Gambling: to play games of chance for money; bet. 40. Travel-sick: suffering from nausea caused by the motion of a moving vehicle, boat, or aircraft. 41. Sensitive: having or displaying a quick and delicate appreciation of others’ feelings. 42. Melancholy: a feeling of pensive sadness, typically with no obvious cause. 43. Chewing gum: the exercise of chewing flavoured gum which is not intended for swallowing. 44. Fidgeting: to make small movements, especially of the hands and feet, through nervousness or impatience. 45. Skeptical: not easily convinced; having doubts or reservations. 46. Neat-freak: compulsively obsessed with cleanliness. 47. Gossiping: divulging personal information about others. 48. Prim: feeling or showing disapproval of anything regarded as improper; stiffly correct. 49. Abbreviating: Giving others nicknames/shortening names/giving pet names. 50. Having a catchphrase: having a sentence or phrase typically associated with a specific person.

#headcanons;#;;going to work on replies now

stolenbymundungus-blog

“Gotcha, wouldn’t touch’em, but d’ya mind if I have em?”

#[ nothing but a bloody thief;; ]#c

“Surprised you even had the courtesy to ask this time, Mundungus. Isn’t your style typically more of the ‘take when no one’s looking’ sort?”

mumuinfinity-blog

“Aye, n e v e r eat from a plate with unknown origins, Weasley. Doesn’t matter what you’ve heard about ‘em to begin with. Trust no one’s baking skills.”

#[ constant vigilance;; ]#;;hello hello!#;;this was one of my favorite replies to anything #;;so perfect #;;also i'm cass and it's a pleasure

“As always, wonderful advice Mad-Eye. But on this occasion, I know e x a c t l y where they came from, and I’ve still no desire to eat them.”

“You ‘ave thees all thought out, no? Eet almost seems rude of me to turn you down, and I cannot allow myself to be rude. I may be well-travelled, but I ‘ave never been to Thailand. I theenk my father did once because ‘e brought us back some shells, but I would ‘ave to check zat with ‘im which ees irrelevant and not ‘elpful at all so - um, je suis désolé.”

For a moment, Bill couldn’t respond. Not because of the French tag, not because he had trouble with the accent, not even because he was struck again by how completely gorgeous Fleur was. No, it wasn’t anything to do with any of that. She was just too goddamned cute. He wanted to kiss her then, but he slipped his hands into his pockets instead. Honestly, I’m glad that I’m still able to think at all when I’m around you. “C’est bon, Mademoiselle. Now, to avoid being rude, I suggest we get to work. Perhaps combined inexperience with Thailand will lead us somewhere.”

“Old? — Non, nevermind I theenk I ‘ave eet. I would ‘ave been in ‘ere for an ‘our eef you ‘ad not come, though, so thank you. Eet may be a small price, but I am not sure zat they would like me ‘iding out in your office. I ‘aven’t been ‘ere long and zey are steell not a fan of my ‘abit of replying in French.”

“Who said you would be hiding out? Did I forget to mention that I need an extra hand to help me with... ah, with planning an expedition to Thailand? It’s always better to get another’s opinion, and you’re the most well-traveled person in here other than myself. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind my needing your assistance so long as I allow you to get some work done in the process.”

#ootp starter #c #;;hi come love me down pls

“I wouldn’t touch those sweets if I were you, mate. I won’t say from where, but I’ve heard some pretty horrible things.”

wanderingweasley

“Fifth floor filing box, pink files and I - and I ‘ave to? Merde. I ‘ave to? I should ‘ave made zem repeat themselves.”

“Pink files are old ledgers. They’ll want you to copy them and then submit them for filing down on the second floor. For a small price, I’m willing to let you use my office to work. It’s quieter, and I hear it has far better company -- or so they say.”