#I nearly missed the opportunity if i waited til the weekend like i planned

[smashwolfen]

Oh it feels good to be brave! Went onto facebook marketplace and built up the nerve to message a seller about their copy of Pokemon Platinum. After scanning and double checking their images they had up beforehand, and then double checking and comparing AGAIN once I had it in hand, I can safely say with 100% certainty that I finally own a legit copy finally! My collection is no longer tainted with counterfeits~!!

Now I fought myself with the pricing (100$ CAN mind you) but it was also the best deal I'd get with the game AND the case (no manuel but no biggie) so Im content with what it was.

The game didnt have much on it, but they don't deserve to get reset, so Im gonna trade them over to my Diamond to give them a home (also the moment I put it in my 3DS, love my modded babeyyyyy)

For those wondering how to tell the difference I can show you in the read more below!

The fake will always be on the left for easy comparisons and to not confuse!

First off the front,

-The saturation alone is an indicator if you have a good eye, the left is very faded, almost a tinge lighter than it should be to the right, and the border for the "Nintendo DS" box isnt very defined.

-The font is not as bolded or clearly visible either, if you have a REALLY hard time reading "CONTENT RATED BY" thats above the "ESRB" text, or if "The Pokemon Company" text is hard to see against the red streak in the background. The fakes text is also oddly spaced apart compared to the real copy, like it got stretched a bit becasue the font is so thin.

-This will be the same with the other examples next, but the little insert arrow on the fake is too clear, its more pressed into the cartidge than it should ever be, the real one is perfectly flat all the way across with thr rest of the cartridges face, only difference is that its smooth to the touch as opposed to the texture of the cartidge. You run your nails across the arrow and you shouldn't feel anything stop you or feel a difference!

Next is the back

-Same as the arrow, it should not be as pressed in to give it a noticable difference in feeling. You rub your fingers across the text you will feel it ever so slightly on a real cartridge, it is more surface area than the arrow, but its nothing that should be of note. The fake will be too pressed in again and you WILL feel it.

-For American, the "NTR 005 PAT. PEND." is on both the fake and real here, most times its not on the fakes but they can be there, just be mindful!

-Some may have been faded overtime, but the black text on the back (for american games, double check your versions region) has a specific code to it. An indicator for being authentic is if the carts have the "CPUE" letters on them on the front and the back, as opposed to the VERY wrong fakes like mine having "CPUE" on the front, but the back has "ADAE" instead XD

Now another indicator may or may not be as viable, but it can be another way to see if its legit or not, it is however NOT a guarentee. Not all carts have these but sometimes at the very top of the cartridge you may see a slight indent (top is fake, bottom is real)

So far with my copies of Diamond, Pearl, Platinum and HeartGold, they all have this little indent. It may not always be there, but it may be slightly more reassurong that it is there if it is XD

Heres hoping its helped those wondering if there game is a fake or not with my own version of discrepancy. If you want more ways or maybe a better explanation of differences, here is a link to a handy guide for all the pokemon games! Same guide i used to tell the difference!

[diaryofabeautyfiend]

* ⚠️ Warnings: A lot of angst. Mentions of sex. A little fluff. People drinking alcohol. ⚠️ This one shot was never meant to be a series. All of your love and appreciation spurred me in to write more. Hope you like this chapter. I cried while I was writing it. Part 5 is the finale.

Plain Gold Ring IV:

You Don’t Know What Love Is

“How could you know how lips hurt

'Till you've kissed and had to pay the cost

Baby, 'till you've flipped your heart and you have lost

You don't know what love is” Nina Simone

———————————————————————

Being on the board of your firm’s charity gala was a huge deal. On top of your normal duties you were in charge of the silent auction. The final auction items had all arrived and you had been busy categorizing everything and preparing for the night that you barely have time to focus on the Andy and Lori situation.

Not that it wasn’t grating on your last nerve. You were so short with everyone at work that it was becoming a problem. Stan had to have a talk with you. You just had to focus and get through this event.

Andy helped as much as he could. He was supportive when you were frustrated and quickly learned when to back off. Sometimes you were up until the wee hours he would literally drag you to bed. He knew how to keep your mind off of work for a while.

You were so busy that you hadn’t even purchased a dress. You and Liz went shopping after work. She was the only person to know about you and Andy.

“What do you think of this one? Think Andy will like it?” You wore a black long sleeved gown with a v that went down to right above your belly button and a slit up to your mid thigh.

“I mean, I’d fuck you.” she deadpanned. This was the dress. You would be comfortable in it all night. You also looked like a powerful bitch who would slit your throat.

—————————————————���—————

You had to be at the site earlier than the guests so you did your hair and most of your makeup at home. Andy had not seen your dress on purpose. You wanted him to see you when he walked in with Lori. Your petty brain was on overdrive.

“Well you look great” Andy said pointing to your sweats.

“Shush. I’m not putting on my dress and heels until the last second. I pressed your shirt it’s hanging in your closet. I also picked up your tux from the cleaners.”

He slid his arms around you and looked at you in the mirror. “Why are you so good to me?” His hands roamed your body and made contact with your bare skin under your tshirt.

“I am gonna be late.” You swatted his hands away.

“You have four hours. Didn’t you hire party planners?”

“Yes. I still need to get my nails done and set up the auction. You can have your way with me later.”

“But I want to now” he whined. “Please. I’ll be really quick.”

You giggled , “Sounds really fun for me. You know I would never ever miss an opportunity to cum all over your cock…” your face was so close to his your lips were nearly touching. Your hands were on his chest. His were on your hips pulling you closer. “But I have to go. Bye, baby.”

“Tease! You’ll pay for that.” he called after you.

You winked at him as you headed out of the door, “I certainly hope so.”

All Andy could do was laugh. He wished he could spend this evening whisking you around the dance floor. He couldn’t wait to see how beautiful you would look tonight.

In two days you would be on your way to Chicago. The movers were already on the way with your furniture. Your suitcase was in the process of being packed. He hated it. He was taking a long weekend to help you get settled. By Wednesday morning you would have to say goodbye. His heart broke a little every time he thought about it. Every single day he wanted to say he loved you. He was reluctant to ruin what you had knowing there was no way around the inevitable.

———————————————————————

Everything was set. The only thing left was for you to get dressed. You re-sprayed your hair and put on your jewelry. You spritzed Chanel over your wrists neck and cleavage. Last thing was to coat your lips in a matte oxblood to match your nails. You looked sleek and downright terrifying. Just as you planned.

“They just walked in.” Liz whispered from the doorway.

“How does she look?”

“Pretty and appropriate.”

“How do I look?”

“Like a bad bitch. Let’s go.”

You walked out with your shoulders back and your head high. You made sure the gown swished enough to expose your legs and the impossibly high heels you wore. Andy saw you from across the room and stopped dead in his tracks. You looked like you were walking in slow motion. He almost dropped his drink.

You made a b line for Stan and his wife Elaine who were standing directly behind the other couple. He smelled your perfume wafting off of you when you walked by. He almost lost it right there.

“Y/N! What a knockout. Elaine, isn’t she gorgeous?” You kissed his cheek with the side of your mouth careful not to smear your lipstick.

“Christ, Stan. Keep it in your pants. You look beautiful, honey.”

“Thank you, Elaine. So good to see you. Lovely as always.”

“Thank you, dear. Now how is it possible you are here without a date? Stan, you work the poor thing so much she can’t even find a man. That’s why she’s leaving you.”

“And for many other reasons” you joked. You were very much aware that Andy was behind you. “Elaine have you met Andy and Lori Barber?”

You took Lori’s hand and ushered them over. “No, I haven’t. So nice to finally meet you.”

“You get to know each other. I’m going to grab a drink. Can I get anyone anything?” Such a good hostess.

“I’d love a scotch. Elaine wine?” She nodded.

“Andy?”

“You won’t be able to carry all of those drinks. Let me come with you.” Andy patted Lori on the arm. “I’ll be right back.” When you were far enough away he took a long look at you. “How long til I get to rip that dress off of you?”

Your cheeks heated, “You won’t be ripping anything. This dress cost a fortune. It’s far too pretty to ruin especially with panty lines.”

“Fuck. I’m gonna ruin that pussy.”

“Promises promises, Mr. Barber.” He groaned and adjusted his pants.

“Such a tease.”

You delivered the drinks and excused yourself. For the rest of the night Andy only caught glimpses of you. He tried not to make it obvious but Lori could see. Once upon a time he looked at her like that. Except the way he looked at you was a look of complete adoration.

You tried avoiding the Barbers all night. The whole time Andy schmoozed and did his Andy thing, his arm was around her waist. She kept her hand on his chest. They were always finding little ways to touch each other. When he kissed her temple you nearly broke the clipboard you were holding.

Stan stood next to you draining his fourth drink, “You ok there, champ? Sweet couple aren’t they?”

“Yeah. They’re adorable.” You slammed the rest of your Old Fashion.

“Reminds me of me and Katherine . Remember Katherine?”

“Was she your second or third wife? I don’t remember.” Your words were dripping with sarcasm.

“Second. Every time we had one of these things Katherine was on my arm. She was great at this shit. She’d chat it up with the partner’s wives earning me brownie points while I fucked Elaine’s brains out in the John. Know why I married Elaine? She was the best goddamn litigator I’d ever seen. Gets my dick hard every time I think about it. She lit a fire in me that couldn’t be stoked. Kind of like you do for Andy.”

You blanched, “What do you mean?”

“Oh save it. I know you’re fucking. The whole office does. I see how he looks at you. But you can’t see how you look at him. Don’t let the act fool you. He’s stupid for you. Let me keep him for a couple of months before you move him to Chicago ok? He can make us some serious money.” He patted you on the ass and went back to Elaine. She was waiting for him with a big smile that he drunkenly devoured.

———————————————————————

The band started playing. When a slow song came on Lori took Andy’s hand. “Dance with me?”

For possibly the last time he held her. She closed her eyes, rested her head on his shoulder and let him lead her around the dance floor. He wasn’t reciprocating with the same tenderness. His eyes were held on you.

You watched him place his hand on the small of her back. The way he held her hand was a practiced action that he had perfected over sixteen years. When he let himself get lost for just a moment he was overcome with grief for himself and Lori. He pressed a kiss to her lips. Her heart fluttered and she kissed him back. You rushed out of the room when you saw them.

Lori felt her husband’s body stiffen. His hold on her loosened. It felt like he was forcing his body to stay with her. She understood why his mood shifted when she saw you leaving. She looked up at him. His eyebrows were knitted together with worry.

“How long have you been sleeping with her?” she asked quietly.

“A month. Maybe longer.” He couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t lie.

“So basically since you left.”

“My second day there. Lori, I’m so sorry. It just happened. I wasn’t looking for anything.”

“No, but you were open to something happening. Does everyone here know? Of course they do. I’m so humiliated. I think I’d like to go home.”

“I’ll get the car.”

“No. I can get myself home. This night is too important for you to leave early.”

“Lori…”

“I don’t want to be around you right now, Andy. I can’t.” She let go of his hand and left. She carried herself with poise and dignity but inside she was dying.

You were nowhere to be found. He spotted Liz who was chatting with some friends. “Where is she?”

“Auctions over. She left.”

“Shit. Thanks.”

“Andy, be gentle with her. Idiots.”

He ran to the valet and jumped in his car to race home. When he got out he noticed a suit case in the back of your car. The elevator was taking forever. He took the stairs two at a time to reach you before you got away.

He heard your heels clacking on the hardwood. Clothes were everywhere. “Y/N?”

“Bedroom.” You were still in your pretty dress. Still all made up throwing things in another suitcase.

“Going somewhere?”

“Hotel.”

“Mind telling me why?” His voice was hoarse like he had been screaming.

“The way you held her…you kissed her.” He grabbed your hands to make you look at him but you yanked them away. “This was stupid. I should have never gotten involved with you in the first place. Married men never leave. Please get out of my way, Andy. I have to go.”

“You think this was a mistake?” Slow tears rolled down his face. He undid his bow tie and sat down. “I don’t. I’m glad we met.”

“Why? Because I feel like my heart has been ripped from my chest. So why are you glad?”

“Because you reminded me what it felt like to be cared for. To feel loved. You showed me what I had been missing for a long time now.”

“Happy to have helped.” You continued emptying drawers.

“Please stop packing. Please.” You wouldn’t look at him. He tried grabbing you several times but you moved beyond his reach. “Damn it! Why? Why do you always run when things get hard?”

“I’m not running.”

“No? So Chicago just came up? Or did you put out your resume the second you heard I got the job you wanted?”

Your cheeks heated. “You know how this business works. If I got passed over this time, they’ll keep doing it.”

“Right. And tonight? The second things get weird you run.”

“You kissed her!” You were trying not to cry.

“I know. I was sad. We’ve been Andy and Lori for the majority of our lives. Tonight felt so final. I know we’ll always have Jacob but, there is nothing else there. Please. I am so in love with you. Please.” He dropped to his knees and hugged you tight around your waist.

“Andy, you have to let me go.” He pressed his face into your stomach and broke down. “Andy? Sweetie? Come on. Let go.”

“Tell me you don’t love me and I’ll let you walk out of that door. I’ll never contact you again. But I know you do.”

“Stop….”

“Aren’t you tired of running?” You were tired. You ran away from your family, former lovers, dead end jobs. You wanted to finally be settled. Leave with a clean break. There was nothing clean about this. If you said you loved him there was no going back. This would be at least three years of a long distance relationship because he won’t leave Jacob. You didn’t want him to leave his son. This would be you exhibiting a level of trust you weren’t sure you had. He fell in love with you so fast. In your absence, what would stop him from falling for someone else? You were so weak when it came to Andy. Fucking perfect at everything Andy fucking Barber. Why couldn’t you shake him? Why couldn’t you just walk away like you have been trying to do since the first time you had sex?

BECAUSE WE LOVE HIM YOU DUMB TWAT. Your brain screamed. You couldn’t make your mouth work. You ran your fingers through his hair, “I love you, Andy.”

He pulled you down onto the floor and kissed you with abandon. “Say that again.” he whispered against your mouth.

“I love you. I love you. God help me, I love you.” A smile was plastered on his face for the rest of the night. Packing could wait.

[ickle-ronniekins]

cosmic destiny

request from nonnie!! “Hello! I love your writing, I was wondering i could request something for Fred. Maybe a soulmate AU like matching tattoos or you can see how in danger tour soulmate is with a meter or Hanahaki situation? I love your writing sooo much!”

pairing: fred x reader

word count: 4.5k OOPS

A/N: hi love! SUPER CUTE PROMPT, i adore soulmate aus. so i actually did a fred soulmate au with tattoos which you can find here so i figured i’d do something different for this prompt, hope you still enjoy :) also, wtf, i feel like my writing sucks here, soooo feedback, reblogs, comments, anything please? gah ty

tag list: @mintlibri @seppys-return-to-madness @how-do-life-does @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @semmelsemi @cottageoflove @laneygthememequeen @waschbiber @dreamer821 @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am @wtfweasleyy @obsessedwithrandomthings @thoseofgreatambition @harrysweasleys @sleep-i-ness @shadowsinger11 @shadychaoticcollection @haphazardhufflepuff @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @letsfightsomeorcs @theweasleysredhair @purpleskiesstorm @hxfflxpxffs @wand3ringr0s3 @finecole @angelinathebook @highly-acidic @purplefragile @90shermione @zreads @susceptible-but-siriusexual @hollands-weasley @andromedaa-tonks @bbstrawberry0421 @princessof-theuniverse @cappsikle @mytreec @imseeinggred @idont-knowrn @flyingserpxnt @auroraboringalis57 | message me to be added loves!

When Fred Weasley heard all of the girls talking animatedly and breathlessly at the welcome feast about the prospect of finding their soulmates this year, and taking turns eyeing him up and down as if they were certain he was theirs, he couldn’t help but shift uncomfortably in his seat -- his brother, George, elbowed him gently in the ribs, laughing at his twin’s skittishness.

Fred just sighed. The entire Great Hall was erupting with whispers and wandering eyes and annoying giggles. Each and every fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh year were hungrily searching for, and awaiting, their soulmate, for they would find them before the end of the school year. Or, at least, that’s what the Weasleys had told the twins.

He pretended not to care, he really did -- when his older brothers started chatting him and George up at the Burrow this past summer, and as Ginny, Harry, Ron, and Hermione listened with amazement, Fred had sealed his lips without giving anyone a word. The others had just laughed, keen on taking advantage of this very quiet Fred.

Fred just stayed as quiet as he could. Because everyone knew how he felt.

The problem was, as much as he tried to hide his feelings about the whole prospect, Fred certainly cared. Actually, Fred seemed to care all too much.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to find his soulmate -- he wanted that more than anything. But if he was being honest, he was terrified.

Terrified of finding the woman he’d spend his life with. Terrified if it turned out to be someone he didn’t expect. Terrified, he knew, if it ended up being someone other than you.

Fred had always been a confident bloke, there was no denying that, but when Mrs. Weasley had pulled him into a bone crushing hug on Platform Nine and Three Quarters before they’d departed for school and squealed, “Oh, Freddie! Do bring her home for Christmas, yes? I’ll have to knit her a sweater!” Fred suddenly felt very pressured to bring home a nice girl. Not that he could help it, really. It wasn’t exactly up to him as to when this year his soulmate would appear, or who his soulmate would be. But he could hope. Maybe he could even will it into existence, if he tried hard enough. He swallowed his feelings and boarded the Hogwarts Express, ignoring the fact that seventh years specifically were supposedly going to find their soulmates before the holidays.

He’d always fancied you, and he always thought he made it rather obvious, actually. His flirting was top tier, his compliments heartfelt and consistent -- blimey, you two had even danced the entire night away at the Yule Ball, flushed and giddy from the Butterbeer and dazzling Christmas decorations that illuminated the Great Hall. And yet, the two of you were still not together. Not technically, anyway.

Not for lack of trying on his part, though. How many times had it been that he’d done some over-the-top prank and landed himself in another detention, just to impress you? How many times had he asked you to take a stroll in Hogsmeade? Bloody hell, to have tea at Madam Puddifoot’s? More times than he could count, embarrassingly.

It’s not that you didn’t like him. He was your best mate. What wasn’t to like? That adorable, disheveled ginger hair of his, the constellation of freckles sprinkled across his nose, the very obvious way he could always make you laugh with the nonsense he’d get himself into, the way his face would split into a bright smile at the sight of you -- there really wasn’t anything to dislike, if you were being honest. On the flipside though, there was the whole possibility of ruining the friendship thing, and also the finding your true soulmate thing. There were too many contributing factors, and you didn’t want to lose your best friend. And besides, there was no way that Fred Weasley was your soulmate.

Little did you know, he had a plan to prove that you were.

-- -

“Oi,” Fred whisper-shouted in the dorms one evening. “George, hey! Wake up, mate!”

It was nearly three a.m., and both twins had to be up in just a few short hours for their first day of lessons. A muffled groan came from the bed across from Fred’s. “Fred, I swear to Merlin if you keep talking, I’m going to go and get Ginny and you’ll be on the receiving end of one of her Bat Bogey Hexes.”

“First of all,” Fred began, illuminating the room just a smidge with the light of his wand, “I can take my little sister. Secondly, I’ve got a plan.”

George opened one eye. “A plan? You’ve woken me up in the middle of the night to tell me you’ve got a plan?”

“Yeah,” Fred started, puffing out his chest and looking rather confident indeed. He wet his lips and continued, “A plan to convince Y/N that she’s my soulmate.”

George could not help the involuntary laugh that escaped him. He sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. “Sorry, mate, but I’m not sure that’s how it works -- see there’s this little thing called cosmic destiny. I’m afraid the universe has your soulmate already picked out for you, no matter how much you continue to embarrass yourself in front of our best mate.”

A thwap! noise echoed in their room when George was hit on the side of his head with a few pillows. He reckoned he had that coming.

“I don’t care about this.. cosmic destiny you speak of, Professor Trelawney,” Fred teased. “I know she’s the one. I’ve known it since we met her. And I’m going to convince her, and then the stars will align.. or whatever,” he said in his best Sybill imitation.

“Merlin, someone’s gone all soft and romantic.” George laughed. Another pillow flew his way but he caught it in midair and placed it behind him. George yawned dramatically and fell back into the massive amount of pillows he now had on his bed. “Whatever you say, Freddie. But please, can the plan wait until morning? Perhaps once I’ve had a few cups of coffee?”

Unfortunately, Fred thought to himself, now fully awake and raring to go, it would just have too.

-- -

When he spotted you rounding the bend in the corridors, no doubt heading to your double Arithmancy lesson (you were adorable, but why on bloody earth would anyone choose to take Arithmancy in their seventh year, let alone doubles?) Fred seized his opportunity and pushed passed his brothers and the sea of students congregating near the Transfiguration classroom. Didn’t these people have somewhere they needed to be?

He ran in the complete opposite direction, hellbent on getting to your classroom before you did. Out of breath after pushing past students and professors alike, he leant himself casually against the wall in the corridor, ran a hand through his messy hair, and took a few deep breaths to slow his breathing. Three, two, one. Like clockwork, you were. You appeared suddenly in the corridor, a gentle grin on your lips that only seemed to radiate extreme giddiness when it split your face into a very large smile.

You stopped in front of him and dropped your bag onto the floor before checking your watch. “Five minutes til the bell,” you said, raising your eyebrows and locking your eyes with his. “Impressive, Weasley.”

He shrugged. “What can I say?” he asked smoothly, wiggling his eyebrows at you and pulling you into a quick embrace. “How’s my favorite girl?”

“I’ll be better once this dreadful lesson is over.”

“Ah -- regretting the double Arithmancy, are we?”

“Never, ever let me make stupid decisions again. Promise?”

Fred laughed at this. You really didn’t know what you were asking, did you? He was the King of stupid decisions. You were adorable, nonetheless. “Fine, but you owe me,”

Your eyebrows threaded together and you held back a snort. “Oh Merlin -- let’s hear it, then.”

“You, me. The Three Broomsticks. This weekend.”

Even when you rolled your eyes back into your head, Fred couldn’t help notice the hint of pink that flooded your cheeks, and the gentle tugs at the edges of your mouth. You were always horrible at holding back a grin.

“One day,” you said breathily. “It took you one day into the new year to ask me out. George owes me three galleons,” you winked.

Fred brought a hand to his chest in a very dramatic fashion, but laughed anyway. It was the same every single year -- it took him less than a week into the new term before he was flirting obnoxiously and doing his very best to get you to go on a date with him. “You and my stupid brother placed bets on how long it would take me to ask you out?”

A smirk suddenly appeared on your face. “It was his idea; I just wanted to win some money.”

You were about to slip into the classroom when Fred positioned himself in front of you, his six foot frame swallowing you whole. You brought a gentle hand to his cheek and his breath hitched at the contact. How was it you were always able to get his heart thumping dramatically? “Freddie, love, we’ve been over this.”

He wiggled his eyebrows at you again. “Darling, you can’t possibly call me love and expect me to believe that you don’t want to pull me into a broom cupboard and snog me senseless.”

“I’ve so very much missed your confidence over the summer holidays.”

“Bet you’ve missed more than just my confidence.”

You both laughed a bit, and then you took a step back from him. The solemn look in his eyes was more than telling -- he wasn’t backing down without a fight, just like every other year. “Fred, we’re going to find our soulmates soon -- what is the point --”

“ -- the point is, Y/N, that you are my soulmate.”

You were a bit taken aback at this; you placed your arms across your chest and raised an eyebrow at him. His self-assuredness was rather alluring, but you couldn’t just believe that. It’s not like either of you had a say in the matter, no matter what your hearts yearned for. You opened your mouth to speak, but silence hung in the air between you both. He took a step closer toward you, and you could easily smell his cologne, for he was now only centimeters away. He gently placed a hand on your shoulder and his lips to your hair, “I will wear you down, Y/N.” It was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the steady pounding of your heart. He scooted himself out of your way, squeezed your shoulder, and said before disappearing down the corridor, “and I will prove to you that we are meant to be together.”

-- -

Things this year were not turning out how Fred would’ve liked. There was some strange, irritating woman dressed in all pink who seemingly wanted to take over Hogwarts, and she kept shutting him and George down each and every time they wanted to have a bit of fun and showcase their products for respective students. Lessons were nearly kicking his arse, if he was being honest, because he could hardly focus on school work. All he could focus on was that awfully insistent Ravenclaw that had his eye on you.

Worried now that he was no closer to convincing you that you two were meant to be, he was becoming desperate. Ginny and Ron enjoyed this very much, because it wasn’t very often that Fred let others see his vulnerability.

The twins were on route to Potions for a miserable, gloomy Wednesday afternoon; the only thing that even slightly brightened Fred’s spirits was the prospect of seeing you just a few tables away. “George, how many different ways d’you reckon there are there to find your person?”

“How d’you mean, mate?”

“You remember what Charlie told us over the summer holidays,” Fred piped on. He slid into his seat and lowered his voice, so as not to piss off Snape in the corner of the room, who was watching the students enter the classroom. “People find their soulmates all sorts of ways, don’t they? Pretty sure Charlie mentioned someone he knew finding his through matching tattoos, or something -- what d’you think?”

“I.. haven’t really thought much on it,” George told his twin truthfully. “Not really sure, to be honest. Mum was so bloody excited she barely gave me any idea of what to look out for. But I reckon they’re all different, right? Can’t say I’ve ever seen a tattoo anywhere on myself -- unless it’s in a secretive sort of spot.” George winked. He wanted to make Fred laugh, but it was a lost cause now, as you’d just entered the room and sat yourself down across from them both.

It wasn’t unlike Fred to become both more cheeky, and an absolute pile of mush around you.

“Hi there, love,” Fred said casually, leaning against his books in front of him. He tapped his cauldron playfully. “Blow things up here often?”

“Oh for Merlin’s sake,” George stifled a laugh. “If you’re going to flirt, at least be good at it.”

The all too familiar dreadful monotone suddenly filled the room, and everyone went quiet. “Silence……..Mr. Weasley, or I’m afraid you’ll find yourself in yet another detention. Not that that’s particularly… unlike you, is it?”

A few Slytherins started to laugh at Snape’s passive aggressive comment, and George huffed in his seat and pulled his spellbook out of his bag. But Fred hardly moved; instead he stayed where he was, drumming his fingers against the desk, letting his eyes wash over you. “Now, if you’ll open up your spellbooks..”

When Snape’s attention was turned toward a few bored looking Ravenclaws, you scooted closer to the twins and whispered, “Easy there, Fred. Don’t want to go getting on Snape’s bad side so early in the term, yeah?”

As Fred watched you run your painted fingernails along the words in your spellbook, muttering incantations to yourself as if you were studying for another lesson in the middle of this one, he reckoned getting on Snape’s bad side for you would be absolutely worth it.

-- -

“That’s barbaric! Harry, we’ve got to go to Dumbledore,” Hermione insisted.

Everyone was sitting around in the Gryffindor common room, peering at Harry’s red, scabbed, and bloodied hand. Looked as though he’d just come from a detention with Umbridge.

“I can’t believe she can get away with this. Bloody Ministry will do anything!” Ron cried, inching his way closer to Harry on the couch to get a better look. “Fudge is in over his head.”

George scoffed. “Doesn’t help that our stupid prat of a brother is filling the Minister’s head with nothing but praise for his ideas,”

It was unfortunate to see the toll that Umbridge was taking out on everybody. Each and every person close to Harry wanted to report Umbridge’s so-called disciplinary actions, but Harry insisted not too. He didn’t want to bring any light to it; not that anything would help the situation. Dumbledore staying Headmaster was just about as likely as Draco Malfoy not being a foul git.

“Harry,” you said gently, placing a hand to his knee, “I’m so sorry. Let me fix it up for you, yeah?”

Harry nodded thankfully, and Fred watched as you carefully tended to Harry’s hand. Of course. You’d wanted to be a Healer ever since he met you -- and probably before that, too. He couldn’t help but grin foolishly at your compassionate touch, and Harry’s appreciative glance. Fred felt his heart soar so high, he would’ve married you right then and there.

Later on, once most everyone had gone to bed, Fred spotted you near the fire, sipping on a cup of tea with your nose in a book. “Hey,” he said, placing himself next to you. “That was really nice what you did for Harry, you know.”

“Oh, ‘twas nothing anyone else wouldn’t have done,” you waved him off. “Besides -- it’s good practice. Madam Pomfrey says I should try and do as much as I can, if it isn’t a dramatic injury, just to get my feet wet. You know?”

Fred nodded; there was something about your empathy toward others that sent him into a dizzying type of feeling. He adored how softhearted you were. How good-natured. You always had been, ever since he knew you; ever since that time you seemingly nursed him back to health after a nasty bludger hit his shoulder during a Quidditch match during your fifth year.

“How’d this happen, Freddie? You’re normally so on top of Quidditch.”

“Was distracted.”

“By what?”

“By you, darling.”

He remembered your small laugh and eye roll as you’d gone and grabbed him a cup of tea; you’d even helped him carry his spellbooks to class everyday.

“D’you reckon this is something… a girlfriend does?”

“Fred, I have absolutely no problem hexing you, even with your broken shoulder.”

You two were sitting so close now. He was peering at you with what could only be described as “googly eyes”, and he could swear that the rise and fall of your chest was a little bit heavier than normal, as was the tension hanging in the air between you both. Maybe, he thought, that repeatedly asking you out wasn’t the way to go. Maybe he just needed to really go for it --

Just then, Ginny hopped through the portrait hole, looking positively dreadful. Her hair was a disheveled mess, and she kept scratching at her hand. “Gin?” Fred asked, his older brother demeanor immediately kicking into gear. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” Ginny said brightly. If it hadn’t been for her disgruntled look, you both never would’ve known she was upset. “Just got caught up in the library working on an essay. See you for breakfast,”

But something felt strange to you. As you watched Ginny ascend the stairs to the girls dormitory, you noticed her hand was red. It looked as though she’d been scratching at it for hours. She noticed your lingering gaze, and quickly slid her hand into her pocket. Had she been in detention with Umbridge, too?

To Fred, though, this seemed to go unnoticed. He was already back to inching his way closer to you, a copy of the latest Daily Prophet clutched tightly in between his fingers.

-- -

“I’ve got it,”

Fred was sitting next to George, Ron, and Harry in the Great Hall during the feast. You, Hermione, Ginny, and a few other Gryffindors were down the other end of the table, no doubt discussing the prospect of soulmates (a few of the Gryffindor Quidditch ladies had found theirs). Fred felt his insides constrict. He just had to go for it already, didn’t he?

He’d missed the chance to kiss you that night in the common room, the night Ginny had come in looking slightly off. And he certainly didn’t want to kiss you in front of all of these people, especially if there was rejection involved. Fred had always been confident, and he knew, deep down, that you felt the same way he did. But there was always that tiny twinge of self-doubt..

So instead, when he spotted Umbridge acting like a right git to some poor little Hufflepuff who was eating at the Ravenclaw table, he knew he had to spring into action. Especially because this sweet Hufflepuff was now awaiting a very disturbing detention.

“Got what?” George asked, mouthful of cauldron cake. Very stealthily, Fred used his wand to shrink a canary cream and slowly send it over onto Umbridge’s plate. Her cronies were nowhere in sight, and everyone in the Great Hall seemed to be distracted; he honestly wasn’t surprised that it went unnoticed. It grew back to its regular size on her plate, and Fred took a steady deep breath, knowing that in just a few moments, your beautiful sounding laugh would echo across the Great Hall.

“Merlin,” George began to curse under his breath. “Mate, those are prototypes! If she finds out that was us -- “

“Relax, Georgie, would you? It’s like you doubt my expertise,” Fred rolled his eyes, biting his lip in anticipation as Umbridge relaxed herself back into her seat, an air of arrogance surrounding her. She took a slight sip of her tea, and bit into what looked to her like a regular custard cream.

A loud shout engulfed the room, followed by the unmistakable laughs of students from every single house. Umbridge had transformed into a very large canary, causing Professors to jump up, appalled, students to stand on the tables in applause, and you to widen your bright eyes in admiration.

Fred savoured those five seconds in which Umbridge was not dressed in her normal obnoxious colored pink outfits, but instead was sporting very bright yellow feathers and an orange beak. But almost as instantly as it had happened, she returned to her normal self -- her hair askew and in every which direction, her clothes an absolute mess. “Who is behind this?!” she shrieked.

George stealthily high fived his twin underneath the table. Fred, actually seemingly impressed with himself that he was able to pull this off, got up from the table and maneuvered his way through the sea of students to get to you. He sat himself down next to you, his legs facing out toward the middle of the Great Hall, his arms leaning back onto the table. “So?”

“Quite the diversion you’ve caused there,” you replied cheekily, stirring your tea with your spoon and peering into his eyes with nothing but respect in yours. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that my favorite bird is a canary, would it?”

Fred scoffed. “Love, you act as if I do these things just to impress you, you know?” He elbowed you playfully and then his lips formed a very serious, thin line. “But yes, it has everything to do with the fact that your favorite bird is a canary. And I absolutely do all of these things just to impress you.”

You shook your head and leaned in closer. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

In his attempt to get you to profess your love for him, and the fact that he couldn’t hear anything else but the blood pounding in his own ears due to your compliment, he’d missed the fact that Filch had been watching from the sidelines, and had told Umbridge exactly who was to blame for the canary cream incident. She had George by the ear in one hand, and pulled Fred to his feet with the other. “Detention, the both of you!”

“Fred,” George grunted through gritted teeth, “if this detention alone doesn’t kill us, consider yourself dead, mate! I’m going to kill you!”

You pressed your lips together and attempted to stifle a laugh as Umbridge pulled the two of them out of the Great Hall rather dramatically. The cheers from the students (and some Professors, actually) and the soft, sympathetic glances from you were everything that Fred needed to keep him afloat as he wandered into this detention which held nothing but dread. “Reckon it was worth it, Georgie.”

-- -

Fred Weasley normally didn’t regret things. But this, he did. His bloodied hand was looking worse as time went on, and the scowl from his twin wasn’t helping this detention to move along any quicker. He wrote again, on his parchment, with Umbridge’s stupid special quill, I must not be a burden.

Pft, burden. The woman was a bigger burden than he’d ever be. Finally, the clock struck eight, and he and George were released back into the corridors, both of them rubbing feverishly at their swollen, scarlet-colored hands.

“What d’you say we try and sell more of our products tonight?” Fred asked his twin, trying to lighten the tension in the air.

“Yeah,” George replied, running his fingers over the scabs that were now scarring. “Maybe after I kill you.”

Fred rolled his eyes; he wasn’t going to hear the end of this one.. not for a long, long time. George popped through the portrait hole, and just as Fred was about to enter, he heard his name echo across the moving staircases.

“Young girl heading your way!” said one of the talking portraits cheerily. Fred’s eyebrows threaded together until he spun around, only to be face to face with you.

“Are you alright?” you asked before examining his hand. “That woman is vile, I tell you. Pure vile.”

Fred laughed; the sight of you alone seemed to make him feel that much better. But then he noticed your own hand -- raw and red, as if you’d been picking at it for hours. “Don’t worry about me, what happened to you?”

Fred couldn’t help but notice the way your cheeks went very, very pink. You flushed easily with embarrassment, and immediately shoved your hands into the robes of your pocket. “Oh, erm -- funny story, actually -- “

And then something hit Fred straight in his gut. The words that Charlie had spoken when he’d been telling his siblings about soulmates, and all the ways they could find one another -- when you write on your skin, it shows up on your soulmate’s skin.

Yikes; that could’ve been wonderfully romantic; and yet, here you both were, remnants of Umbridge’s right awful detention plastered on both of your hands -- what a bloody awful way to find out who your soulmate is! However, the feeling of adrenaline coursing itself through his veins at the sight of you, unraveling his thoughts, only seemed to intensify his feelings.

And suddenly, Fred forgot all about the pain in his hand; he forgot about all of those times he’d put himself out there and had been rejected by you for fear of ruining the friendship. He couldn’t even remember a time when he wasn’t so head over heels for you. “Well would you look at that?” he asked, peering down at the very faint words of I must not be a burden on your own hand. “I reckon I’ve found my soulmate. Cosmic destiny, and all that.”

You huffed a bit, but sized him up still. “You’re never going to let me live this one down, are you?”

“Not quite, love. Not disappointed, are you?”

“Disappointed? Never.” You replied dreamily. After a haughty laugh, you leaned in closer, softly pressing your lips to his ear. “Guess you were right, Weasley. You did wear me down.”

His lips met yours in a fiery explosion, and you suddenly both realized how hungry you were for one another. But just as you were both going to hop back through the portrait hole and run up to your dormitory, Fred pulled away and groaned.

“What is it? Not quite living up to your expectations?” you teased.

“Oh no, believe me, it’s better than,” he winked. “I’ve just realized something, though.”

“What?”

He groaned again. “My mum’s going to knit you a Weasley sweater.”

[notyetneedcoffee]

Not Exactly a Classic Dame (4)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC (platonic friendship between Steve x OFC)

Warnings: Language, otherwise none this Chapter, but later

Bucky Master List / Main Master List

CHAPTER 4

“You know it’s really not fair.” Cas whined as she leaned over to take her shot. Steve only had two balls left on the table and she was just getting her first play. “You’ve had like 400 years more practice than me.”

“Hardly.” He laughed.  

They were going on their fourth game. Steve won two and Bucky one.  

“Okay, then, I’m blaming it on the beer.” She giggled. “It’s not fair that you guys aren’t even phased by it at all.”

“You saying you’re tipsy, Doll?” Bucky chuckled.

“No.” Cas winked at him. “Not really.” She took her shot and easily sunk the ball. Moving around to line up her next shot. It left her bending over directly in front of him. Steve had to hide his laugh when Bucky’s head dipped sideways as he admired Cassidy’s backside and his tongue rolled over his lips.

She missed her next shot. Cas just handed the cue to Bucky, commenting that there was no way she would get another opportunity. He smiled easily, trading the cue for her glass. They both leaned back against the rail bar, shoulder to shoulder. Steve had to admit to himself, they looked pretty good together.  

It only took a minute for the Captain to win the round. He excused himself to the restroom before starting another game with Bucky.

An old bluesy melody began playing, and Cas gave a little sigh. At Bucky’s raised eyebrow, she explained. “Nina Simone’s In the Dark. I love this song.”  

He listened for a moment, a distant memory drawing a smile from his face. He held out his hand. Cas took it and he pulled her into his arms. Moving with physical memory, he gracefully swayed her about the floor.  

Bucky smiled into hair, nuzzling her temple. “I know this song. Lil Green. Held a number of dames in my arms because of this song.”

“Lucky girls.” She giggled. “You move really well.”

“I used to love to dance.” He held her a little tighter. “Haven’t done it since the war.”

“Well my card is wide open.” Cas nuzzled him back.

Steve came back into the pool room to see the two of them dancing between the tables. He paused, just watching. They didn’t notice, nothing else existed. The sight of his friend dancing again brought a flush of relief he did not expect. Such a simple thing, yet it reminded Steve more of the Bucky from before Hydra than anything else.  

He pulled out his phone and texted Nat. ‘Do me a favor. Call me in 5 min and call me in for a meeting.’

‘Ditching a date?’

‘No. Making room for one.’

‘Copy.’

Steve stepped up to the rail bar beside their pool table. “I’m grabbing another pitcher.” He stated.

The two stepped apart. Cassidy’s cheeks flushed a bit. Bucky shot his friend a sly smile. “Sounds good.”

When Steve returned, Bucky had racked up the balls for another game. Cas leaned back with a fresh beer, feeling relaxed and a hundred times better than she had when they came to get her for lunch. She leaned into Steve’s side, looking up at him with a grin.

“Thanks.”  

��For?”

“Dragging me out for lunch. Being a good friend.”

He ducked his head, a little sheepish. “I just want the people I care about to be happy.”

“You’re such a sap.”

He laughed out loud. His phone rang. “Hey, Nat. What’s up?”

“Need you back.”

“Something wrong?” Steve frowned as the other two watched him.

“Nothing world shattering. Just get your ass back. Someone needs some answers.” Nat snapped before hanging up.

“I guess we can pick this up another time.” Bucky placed the cue back on the wall rack.

“Naw,” Steve shrugged. “I just bought a fresh pitcher. You two stay. I’ll head back on my own. Can I take the bike?”

“No.”

“Buck.”

“I just got it, punk.”

“Take my car.” Cas handed him the keys, rolling her eyes.  

“Thanks, sweetheart.” Steve kissed her cheek. “See you guys later.”

Bucky watched him walk out the out door, absently running a hand down to rest on Cassidy’s lower back. She looked up at him, beautiful lips curled into a sly smile. His heart flipped.  

o o o o o

The lights over doorway brightened at the two approached. Bucky dropped Cassidy’s hand, looking around. She smiled and took his hand in hers again. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., please bypass nighttime lighting protocols for Bucky and I this evening.”

“Yes, Ms. Harper. Have a pleasant evening.”

“Does she watch everything?” Bucky breathed in Cassidy’s ear.

“Don’t worry.” She stepped a little closer to his chest. “She’s discrete.”  

“Good.” He lowered his head, smiling when Cas raised on her toes to meet him halfway. His lips gently captured her lower lip before he deepened the kiss. Now that she’d let him kiss her, he never wanted to stop.  

They’d danced and talked until late in the evening. A ride on the bike led them to a little bistro for a late dinner and more conversation. He took her hand and walked her through a rural park, under the stars, and ended up making out on a picnic table like a couple horny teenagers.  

Reluctantly they headed back to the compound when Cas realized it was nearly three in the morning. It turned out to be problematic, as they stopped for heated kisses and long moments being lost in each other along the way.

Bucky broke the kiss, brushing wisps of hair away from her face. “I should get you back. You have work in a couple hours.”

“Aw.” Cas whined. “Work sucks. Kissin’ is so much better.”

He chuckled, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and walking her down the dark hall. “Yes, it is.”

The elevator ride from the garage to the living quarters only took a few moments. Still, as soon as the door closed, Bucky wrapped his arms around her from behind and nipped at the sensitive skin behind her ear. Cas moaned, rubbing against him. Feeling her ass tip up to his crotch about made him lose it. He wanted to tear at her clothes right here.  

Too soon the door opened. He took a deep breath and pushed at her hips, walking her out of the small space. Cas stopped only a few doors down. She leaned her back against the door. Even in the dim nighttime lights of the hall, she still found herself lost in his blue eyes.  

“So...”  

“So...” Bucky rested his forehead against hers. “I should let you get to sleep.” He kissed her briefly, “but not before you promise to go out with me this weekend.”

“Promise”  

A chuckle bubbled up from his chest as Cas practically pulled herself off her feet to kiss him again. His arms wrapped around her waist, lifting her from the floor. When her leg hitched over his hip, Bucky pushed her against the door, unable to stop himself.

She moaned when his fingers dug into her ass. His mouth nipped along her jaw to neck, and Cas pulled at his silky soft hair. She breathed heavily in his ear. “Oh, holy shit. We need to take this inside we’ll end up fucking right here in the hall.”  

Bucky froze, then just exhaled slowly. Cas knew he wanted to ‘take her out properly’, as he’d called it. His embrace changed. He still held her up, still had his face buried in her neck, but somehow the feeling melted from heated passion to warm comfort. Cassidy’s arms and legs tightened, her nose nuzzling into his hair.  

“Doll, I haven’t felt like this in a lifetime. I don’t want to mess it up.” He spoke softly against her skin.

“I don’t want to mess it up, either. You’re too damn special.”

“No.”

“Don’t argue with me, Barnes.” She gave his hair a little tug.

“Yes ma’am.” He squeezed tighter. “You just feel so damn good.”

“You too.”

“Even...”

“All of you, Buck.”

“You’re too good for me.”

“I don’t know about that.” Cas kissed his ear. “But I’m here for you.”

“Damn, Doll.” He set he gently on feet before cupping her face in his hands. “You are amazing.” He gave her a sweet chaste kiss. “Go to bed.”

Cassidy’s bottom lip curled out just a bit.

“No. Don’t.” Bucky smiled, but shook his head. “No pouting that gorgeous mouth. Go to bed and I’ll plan something for Friday.”

She gave up, nodding and holding the keycard to her door. “Okay. Thank you for an incredible day, Bucky.”

“The pleasures mine. Believe me.” He kissed her lightly one more time and nudged her inside.  

Once the door closed, Bucky went back to the elevator and went up another couple floors to his own apartment. His mind wondered about trying to think of what to do on Friday. Every thought just kept drifting back to the thought of her naked in his arms. Bucky could still taste her, smell her.

He was pulling the shoulder of his shirt to his nose when a door opened. “Buck?”

Jumping, he turned around with the sudden realization he stood in front of his apartment door.  

Steve stood in his own doorway, wearing sweats and tee shirt, looking confused. “Buck, have you been down stairs all this time?”

“What?” He had been downstairs but not for long.

“It’s nearly 5:30 in the morning.” Steve said in a harsh whisper even though there was no one in the hall to hear. “Did you stay the night at Cassidy’s?”

“What? No. I mean, I’ve been with Cas all night, but we weren’t downstairs.”  

Steve just glared.  

Bucky took a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair. “Shit, when did I become the flustered one? We spent the night out, dancing, talking. Time got away from us.”

“So, nothing else.”

“I wouldn’t say ‘nothing’ exact.” Bucky smirked. “She’s a hell of a girl. You’re right. I admit it. Totally smitten. But no, I’m not gonna take her to bed on the first night out.”

“Good.” Steve smiled and started to head down the hall for his workout just as Buck opened his door to go in.

“We’ll wait ‘til Friday night for that.”

Steve’s head snapped around. Just as Bucky closed the door he heard “but it’s Thursday morning”.

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[hopeishappinessff]

Chapter 33

The end of the day had finally arrived and I couldn’t have been more ready to go home. I was exhausted and stressed and it wasn’t until the last period of the day that my mood immediately shifted when my guidance counselor decided to make an appearance in class to give a quick presentation about transitioning out of high school. I hadn’t thought much about that topic since well before Christmas break and with graduation fast approaching, I had yet to make a final decision on the school I planned to attend. I wasn’t at all a procrastinator, so I’d definitely already applied to several schools… my only problem was that I had yet to decide where I actually wanted to go. I’d had this conversation with Destani before… was it a good idea for us to leave the state or just play it safe and go somewhere local? Wherever I went, she’d already made it clear that with everything in her power she would be right by my side. Chris, on the other hand, had opportunities both locally and far & wide. He’d been having scouts following his every move since the end of his sophomore year, so it remained a mystery to us all where he would end up. The thought of it all was just a constant reminder that eventually, I knew we would all split up and it wasn’t something that I was anywhere near ready to consider.

“So, did you talk to Mr. Chesney about what you should do?” Destani asked as we walked toward the student parking lot. “No, I really wasn’t even in the mood to talk about college at all. I’ll probably just set up an appointment with him sometime next week.” I noted. “Well you need to figure something out quick girl. High school is gonna be over in just a few months… time is passing us by hella quick.” I nodded in agreement… she was absolutely right. I knew that if I waited too long then I’d end up letting graduation pass me by with not a single school of choice under my belt “I know. I’ll figure something out, eventually.”

We both hopped into my car after loading our school supplies into the back seat and within minutes we were out on the main road. I pulled into my driveway once we reached my house and the moment Destani and I walked in, we headed straight for the kitchen. My aunt hadn’t gotten off work yet so we were both left to fend for ourselves for a hot meal. I finally sat comfortably at the kitchen table with my calculus textbook, calculator, and a notebook laid out in front of me. Destani had been walking around the kitchen aimlessly for the past few minutes trying to decide what to eat until she finally grabbed the house phone and headed over to the Pizza-Hut magnet on the refrigerator.

“What are you doing Dez?” I asked, barely looking up from my homework to see what she was up to. “I’m about to hit up Pizza-Hut and get us a supreme nigga!” She sang out as she danced around while dialing the number. Eventually she placed her order and slid the phone back into its cradle on the counter then plopped herself down on the opposite side of the table. “Now, would you finally like to tell me about your fun filled weekend?” I quickly finished jotting down the last bit of information to the final question of my homework and shut my book before slowly diverting my gaze up to face her.

“Nothing major happened Destani. I went out and I just had a really good weekend… with Trey” I muttered. “Oh you went out with Trey huh? Well I would ask what ya’ll did, but I’m not tryna be that nosey.” “Oh but you are, Ms. Nosey,” I giggled with a shake of my head, “I’ll go ahead and tell you, just so you don’t get the wrong idea. We just went to this eat-in movie theater place… it was really cool.” She nodded slowly with her lips twisted to one side and a brow raised “Does a certain someone know about your little outing?”

Rolling my eyes, hard, I slouched back in my chair with my arms crossed “No Chris does not know about it and I would like to keep it that way, thank you.” “I didn’t say I was gonna tell that crazy nigga... I was just wondering.” I stared at her blankly for a few seconds then we both broke out in laughter because we both knew that had I not asked her to keep quiet about it, the first thing she would have done was tell Chris. She quickly cleared her throat and curiously cocked her head to one side as she stared at me “What’s going on with ya’ll anyway?” “With who?” “You and Chris. I mean, I know ya’ll have been spending a shit load of time together lately and I figured there’s something I’m missing… there isn’t anything I’m missing, is there?” She asked, cutting her eyes at me. “No, you know you’d be the first to know if anything ever happened between us.” I said with a smirk and a shake of my head.

“Oh, good… I thought you were about to say ya’ll been fuckin every day for months or some crazy shit like that.” She said, warranting laughter from both of us. My laughter died much quicker than hers though… I couldn’t help but reminisce over the things I hadn’t actually shared with her. I hadn’t told her about any of the nights I’d already spent with him at his new apartment. I hadn’t told her that nearly every time we were together, we always kissed like second nature. I certainly hadn’t told her about the things he’d done to me… the many times he’d made me see stars and made my body tremble beneath his touch… the way that only he could teach me to vocalize exactly how I felt, as his tongue…

“Sy… SY.” I snapped my head around to face Destani, who was standing mere feet away from me with a pizza box in her hands. I stared up at her, failing to realize that the doorbell had even rung and she’d left the table several minutes ago to retrieve it. “Huh.” I murmured. “I said the pizza is here, you damn freak… probably sitting over there thinking about one of those niggas. Hell… probably sitting over there thinking about both of those niggas.” She laughed as she eased the box down on the table and went to grab a couple of plates. “Shut-up Destani.” I snickered and snatched a plate from her hand, quickly grabbing myself a slice of pizza and walking off toward the den with her right behind me.

--

I turned the shower off and pulled a towel from the metal rod behind me. After wrapping the plush material around my frame, I shut off the light in the bathroom and walked out into my room. I made sure to wring my hair out while still in the shower so I could leave it out to air dry. Glancing at the alarm clock on my nightstand, I noted that it was nearly ten p.m. Destani had already gone home for the night and my aunt came in from work shortly after. With tomorrow’s English quiz still on my mind, I quickly rid myself of my towel and slipped into my pj’s so that I could climb into bed and end the night with a bit more studying.

I was nearing the last page of my notes when my phone began to vibrate obnoxiously on my nightstand. “Hey Charlie.” I greeted after swiping it from the hard surface and glancing at the screen. “What’s up boo thang?” He greeted. “Were you not feeling well today?” I asked, wasting no time jumping into the interrogation of why he was absent from school. “Nah, I’m feeling fine,” He chuckled, “Had to take care of some things. How was school though?” “It was good, I guess. Ms. Donna nearly lost her mind with all the homework she assigned… we have a quiz in her class tomorrow too.” I sighed.

“Oh for real… I hope I don’t have to take that shit. I wasn’t even there today. If she makes me take it, I’m marching straight to the principal’s office… failed quiz in hand.” He spoke somberly and I couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m sure she won’t make you take it so I wouldn’t worry about it,” I said through a stifled yawn, “Oh, before I forget… Destani and Gabby almost got into it at lunch today.” “Oh word… why is shit popping off on the one day I’m not there?” He fussed with a smack of his lips, “What happened?” “Well it happened at lunch… Gabby was walking past our table with her two minions and she rolled her eyes at me. Destani saw it happen and tried to confront her about it. Surprisingly, I was able to stop her before it escalated and Gabby actually walked off without much confrontation.”

“She may not have done much, but I know her big mouth ass had something to say,” He muttered, “But she didn’t actually say anything to you though right?” “No, she didn’t. She just made a comment to Destani about me staring at her. But I mean, it’s not like I was really staring at her… I was just surprised at how big she’s gotten.” “I haven’t seen her in a while. What she looking like?” He chuckled. “She’s getting really big. Like she’s starting to look like she’ll pop at any minute.” “I’m not even tryna see her ass tomorrow man. I know she’s gonna go out of her way to try to make me notice her crazy ass, but I have nothing to say to that girl. I’m not even tryna be in the same building as her.”

“Aw, you’ll be alright… hopefully things won’t escalate between you two,” I murmured, making sure to quickly change the topic, “So you’ll really be in school tomorrow?” “Why, you miss me already?” He chortled. I giggled and shook my head as though he could see me “No, I just… I want to make sure you’re not trying to skip again.” “Nah, I’m not skipping ma… I’ll be there. I got a surprise for you too… I was gonna come over there and show you tonight, but I’ll just wait til tomorrow.”

“Oh really? You could just tell me what it is now.” I probed “Or I could just show you when I see you tomorrow.” “Oh whatever.” I said with an exasperated sigh. “Don’t get mad,” He laughed, “Guess I’ll let you go now… just had to hear your voice before I hit the sack.” With a wide grin, I fell back against my pillows with a soft thud “Well then, I guess you can rest well now huh?” “Yes ma’am, hearing your voice just made it all better.” He laughed. “Goodnight Charlie.” “Night Hope.”

--

The day was rainy and gloomy and I wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep the hours away. With grave effort on my part, I managed to drag myself from bed and after nearly half an hour I was dressed and on my way to school. I pulled into the school parking lot a bit earlier than usual and though I had no desire to waltz right out into the downpour, I climbed out of my car and carefully sped up to the side doors of the school.

With the inclement weather keeping me drowsy throughout the day, I just barely made it through the first few classes of the morning… and the task was daunting. I ambled into my fourth period class and claimed my seat and minutes later the bell rang, leaving the stragglers to scurry inside at the last minute. Nearly two full minutes after the bell, I looked up at the sound of shuffling near the classroom door. I immediately spotted a very familiar face and I watched as he moseyed over to Mrs. Donna, leaning in to speak quietly with her. She gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder and smiled warmly… she’d always had such a soft spot for the captain of the basketball team. He looked as handsome as ever with a black skully on his head as he turned away from her and walked with his hands tucked away in the front pocket of his gray hoodie. I eyed him closely as he eased past me toward his seat with a wink and a smirk.

“Alright people, yesterday evening you all were assigned two chapters from this week’s reading. Please pass in your summaries and clear your desks… it’s time for a pop quiz.” There was an instantaneous groan from nearly everyone in the class and Mrs. Donna stood with the most satisfied smile at the front of the room. I finished my quiz only about ten minutes after receiving it and walked up to her desk to turn it in.

Before I could fully turn and walk away from her desk, Mrs. Donna called me back “Uh, Ms. Donsen, if you would be a dear… I’d like to request a small favor from you. Since you're done with your quiz and you are one of my most trusted students, could I please ask that you take Mr. Brown down to the library and give him a quick review over what he missed yesterday?” “Sure, no problem Mrs. Donna. Will we need a pass?” I asked with a pleasant smile. “Oh yes, let me write one up for you while you gather your belongings.” Briskly walking away, I collected my things from my desk and headed back to her to patiently wait for her to write out a pass and call Chris up to the front. He soon arrived and stood next to me and I took an opportunity to inhale his always delightful scent.

After making him aware of our plans for the remainder of the class, she handed off the pass and dismissed us. We moved quietly down the hall, stopping momentarily at Chris’s locker to retrieve his English book that he’d purposely entered class without, and continued our journey on to the library. I glanced at him and couldn’t help but notice his relaxed vibe and unbothered vstride. He had a swagger to him that I absolutely adored… a swagger that left me nearly breathless whenever I was in his presence and had me fighting the urge to smile giddily.

He glanced down at me and I swiftly diverted my attention straight ahead “What you looking at girl?” I shook my head and continued to stare ahead as if I weren’t previously gawking at him and he only chuckled and allowed silence to sweep over us once more. Once we finally made it to the library, he quietly trailed along behind me toward the librarian’s desk, which I politely placed the pass down on. “What class are you all coming from?” She asked, failing to look down at the note on her desk. “It’s on the pass ma’am.” Chris stated with a finger aimed at the small square of paper as he hiked his book bag up higher on his shoulder.

“But I haven’t looked at the pass yet, have I? Now can you please tell me what class you are coming from so that it can be recorded in the ledger?” She snapped rudely as she glared at him. “Miss, there is no need to be rude about it. If you wanna know so damn bad where the hell we just came from, you can simply look down at the paper in your face that says in big, bold letters Christopher Brown and Sy’Diyah Donsen to library from Mrs. Donna’s fourth hour English.” I snapped my head around to face him, already well aware of the irritation rising in his tone. He didn’t bother to look at me, but he did continue to stare at the librarian with the deepest scowl.

Her mouth almost instantly flew open and she blinked rapidly as if Chris’s harsh words had physically slapped her in the face “Well I never… Mr. Brown, I will not tolerate you speaking to me in that manner.” She backed up to the phone that was stationed against the wall behind her and quickly yanked it down off the cradle, wasting no time dialing what I presumed to be the front office number. “Shit, call the damn office… I’m not gonna tolerate your rude ass speaking to me in that manner either,” He argued, obviously mocking the woman, “As a matter of fact, why don’t you tell them to slide my slip in my locker, because I know your scary ass is snitching.”

I watched in utter horror as he stepped around me and walked back toward the door “Sy, we’re gonna have to do this study shit later because I can’t stay in this library with this crazy ass woman.” He spoke just loud enough for the flabbergasted librarian to hear him and I rushed forward behind him as sauntered away from the library. “Chris, where are you going?” I whispered loudly as he strolled casually toward the student parking lot. “I’m leaving. That bitch just put me in the worst fucking mood and I no longer feel like being present today.” The scowl remained strong on his face and he remained confident in his stride.

Once he reached the door leading out to the parking lot, he turned back to face me with slightly softened features “You’re coming with me right?” “Well, we can’t just walk out of the building without letting the front office know first.” I said. With a smack of his lips, he rolled his eyes up toward the ceiling theatrically “Listen, it’s not a big deal Sy. We’re seniors… that shit isn’t serious for us. We’re grown… come on.” I shook my head as I stood there, debating exactly what to do. It was simple for Chris to walk right out of the school with no hesitation because that was something he did often. Almost on a weekly basis he would get into a spat with one of his teachers and disappear from the school grounds for the rest of the day. I was almost positive his teachers had become accustomed to him doing just that, as he was never formally reprimanded for it.

My feet had deceived me while I was deep in thought and before I knew it, I stood directly before Chris who gently grasped my arm and led me out of the building. “Wait a minute… I didn’t say I was going with you.” I tried to argue and snatch my arm back, but it was much too late… without a word, he continued to drag me along behind him like deadweight. “Yeah, well when you walked over here, that told me otherwise.” He stated and I knew at that moment, the conversation was over and we were indeed leaving school for the day.

[khaleesi-in-the-north]

In the Crosshairs (25/?)

@theluthor

                      Her favorite place used to be the garden at her grandmother’s home. Every weekend her father would come prune the bushes and cut the grass, water the flowers. Margaery loved the smell of the lilies and the orchids. She would crawl into the flower bed without a care for how it affected her dress. Then she would pick them and bring them to her father. Her father would smile and bundle them together and they’d present them as a present for her mother.

                    And yet, those weren’t the memories that came to her as Highgarden came into view. Her mind was elsewhere.

                    “She’ll be there in a couple days,” Garlan told her before they left. “She has her dog with her, so she thinks driving back from Storm’s End will be safer for her.” She’d have a day at home to prepare herself for Alayne’s arrival. As if she was a queen and not…whatever she was.

                    Rather than drive, they had taken a train from Sandstone to to the border between Dorne and the Reach. From there, her grandmother had ordered a private plane to take them to Highgarden. Margaery and Ygritte took two seats next to each other for the flight while Oberyn and Garlan sat by each other, quietly discussing their arrival. Jon managed to sneak into a seat behind Ygritte just before the plane took off.

                    “I listened to what you had to say Snow, now bugger off,” Ygritte gritted out. They’d shared a compartment with Nymeria and Quentyn on the train. From what Margaery understood, it had been a quite intense conversation with Ygritte taking her frustrations out physically.

                    “You didn’t listen, you shoved me and threw things at me,” Jon whispers. “Just here me out.”

                    “You know nothing.”

                    “You know, you can be a real ass sometimes.”

                    Ygritte spins around in her seat and swats at Jon. Margaery tugs her back around. “Wait til the seat belt light is off before you try to kill him.”

                    Luckily for Ygritte, that meant waiting all of twenty seconds. The most she could, she unbuckles herself and turned, knocking Jon on his head.

                    “Ow! Your stupid haircut scratched me,” Ygritte rubs her hand.

                    Jon smirks. “Nice to know it has some positives.”

                    She swats again and misses.

                    “I’ve told you I’m sorry. I told you who I am?” he pleads with Ygritte.

                    “We had a deal Snow. You never turn your back on me.”

                    “You’re the one who ran away.”

                    “You betrayed me by betraying Margaery.” Ygritte glances to Margaery, then back to Jon.

                    “Margaery knows the truth too. She knows who I am, who Sansa is. There’s nothing more to know.”

                    Margaery turns around. “What about your little mafia? What’s that operation?”

                    Ygritte’s eyes dart to Jon.

                    Jon sighs. “It’s a mafia. We do mafia things. But not bad things. It’s hard to explain.”

                    “How did it come to this? The mafia was dead, why get involved again? Why not walk away? And what happened to your family? Why were you in King’s Landing? Why’d you have to string us along?” Jon grows smaller after Margaery’s rapid fire questioning.

                    “I-I can’t expain it all. A lot of it is sensitive information. Sansa-”

                    Margaery sits back down, facing away from Jon, escaping the topic she wants to speak about least.

                    Ygritte stays glaring at Jon. After a moment she gets up. She grabs him by the arm. “Hey!” he shouts. She ignores it and pulls him to the back of the plane, where there is a tiny compartment sized room.

                    For a few minutes, Margaery can hear their whispered bickering. But then the bickering fades and… gods that must be some sort of record having angry sex with your ex after fighting about him being in a mafia.

                    “What’s going on back there?” Obara asks. She slips past Margaery’s legs and takes Ygritte’s seat.

                    “It’s better not to ask.”

                    Obara places her hand on top of Margaery’s and squeezes gently. The cool metal of her golden sun ring feels oddly comforting. “I’ve never been to Highgarden before. What’s it like?”

                    Without much thought, Margaery goes into a deep discussion of the weather, the gardens, her grandmother’s home, her adventures with her brothers, her dad’s landscaping business, and her favorite bakery. Obara adds commentary here and there, smiling the entire time.

                    “You must take me there. Would you believe I’ve never had pie before?”

                    Margaery gasps. “Oh, honey, we’re fixing that the moment we get home.”

                    “I look forward to it,” Obara winks.

                    “Eh hm” Ygritte clears her throat, arms crossed over her chest as she taps her foot.

                    “Sorry, was this your seat? You were gone so long I was afraid it might get cold,” Obara says with the slightest hint of sarcasm in her voice.

                    “Yeah it is. Now move,” she orders.

                    Jon stumbles back to his seat disheveled and dazed.

                    “I’ll see you when we land, I guess. This place sounds like paradise,” Obara gets up and moves out of Ygritte’s seat. They stare at each other for a moment. Then Obara goes back to sit across the aisle from her uncle.

                    Ygritte takes her seat and rests her hand on her chin, looking expectantly at Margaery.

                    “What?” Margaery asks, not making eye contact.

                    “You know what.”

                    “I’m following your advice. Moving on. Or did your little dalliance with Jon change your mind?”

                    Ygritte sits back in her seat, pulling away from Margaery defensively. “That was nothing.”

                    Margaery rolls her eyes. “You were totally screwing him back there.”

                    “So? That doesn’t mean anything.”

                    “Mmmhmm.”

                    Margaery wouldn’t hide her disapproval from Ygritte, but she wouldn’t judge her either. Jon, kind as he was, didn’t deserve someone as loyal as Ygritte. She would make sure he understood that. Ultimately, though, it was Ygritte’s choice. If she wanted to have angry sex with Jon and further convolute their relationship, that was her choice.

                    From the landing, it was a short drive to HighGarden. They took two cars: Garlan, Ygritte, Nymeria, and Margaery in one, everyone else in the rest. Garlan calls Leonette on the way. He tells her they got back safely and he’s going to Grandmother’s house before coming home. He asks her if she needs anything, if she has any cravings. Listening to him tell her he loves her as he says goodbye feels like a violation of privacy.

                    After a few moments of silence, Margaery asks. “Does she know?”

                    “She knows I was in Dorne,” he says.

                    She couldn’t imagine sweet, gentle Leonette angry that Garlan didn’t tell her everything when the lives of his family were at risk. Nevertheless, Margaery takes his hand and says, “When you get home, tell her everything. And tell her I can’t wait to see the baby bump.”

                    Garlan squeezes her hand and smiles. “I will Margaery.”

                    It’s nearly nighttime when they arrive to the gates of Olenna Tyrell’s High Garden home. Growing up, the mansion, with its personal gardens and private ponds, felt like a castle. Coming home never felt sweeter.

                    As the cars roll to a stop Olenna wades over. Margaery unbuckles and gets out quickly. She rushes to her grandmother, stoops down and holds her tight.

                    Olenna strokes her hair as she hugs her tight. “You’re home, sweet girl. You’re safe.”

                    Margaery closes her eyes. She breathes deep. She never imagined how wonderful the smell of lavender and aloe could be. “I’ve missed you,” she murmurs.

                    A delicate hand presses against her shoulder. She lets go of her grandmother and goes to her mother. Her hair has added a few more greys since Margaery last saw her. Her mother squeezes her with more strength than Margaery had felt before, rubbing soothing circles on her back. “It will be okay Margaery. We love you so much. Don’t scare us like that again.”

                    Margaery bites her tongue to hold back the tears. Despite the intimacy of the moment, she’s acutely aware of their guests watching her.

                    She pulls back to look at her mother’s relieved smile. “Mother I’m sorry. I’m so sorry-”

                    Her mother reaches out and brushes her cheek. “Ssshhh. It’s okay. We can speak of those things later.”

                    Margaery shuts her eyes again and leans in to her mother’s touch.

                    Olenna clears her throat, getting everyone’s attention. “Garlan,when you mentioned guests you could have said the entire Martell brood was coming.”

                    “I did grandmother,” Garlan says.

                    “You said Oberyn and his daughters. You did not mention they were a swarm and his what? Nephew? Son?”

                    “Son,” Quentyn says.

                    Olenna sighs. “I’m too old for this.”

                    “Surely you’re not. You look lovely as ever,” Oberyn compliments, grabbing a bag.

                    “Useless as that comment was, at least you’re mind’s not. Do you’re lazy daughters expect me to carry these bag on my broken hip?” Olenna asks. “You, what’s your name?”

                    “Obara,” Obara says.

                    “Well Barbara, don’t just stand there. If you’re staying, you’re pulling your weight.” Olenna turns around. “Alerie, dear, set another room please. It appears we’ll have to have some bunking.”

                    Margaery’s mother hugs her one last time and leads the Martells inside.          

                    Olenna places her hand against the small of Margaery’s back and guides her inside. “Come along. We have much to discuss.”

                    They go to a small waiting room. Olenna locks the door. Margaery helps her sit down.

                    “I’m getting too old for this drama.” She pauses for a moment then sighs, “Margaery, we’re in quite a hole.”

                    “I’m going to fix it Grandmother. I have a plan,” Margaery assures her.

                    “As did I. Now that you’ve sold yourself to that blasted Viper, we’ll have to adjust.”

                    “Oberyn has been kind. Honest. They want to help me.”

                    “They see an opportunity, my rose.”

                    “As do I. There was no need to involve the Starks,” she adds bitterly.

                    “If it weren’t for them, we’d think you were being held captive across the Narrow Sea.”

                    “I have Oberyn and-”

                    “No, they have your sweet little head on a platter. You enjoyed entangling yourself with the first two mafias, so you went and found a third?” Olenna scoffs.

                    “They were honest with me. Besides, their not a mafia; they’re like a peace keeping force or militia. Either way, I trust them more than Sansa.” Margaery can hear the hollowness in her words.

                    “That is a mistake. Oberyn Martell is as trustworthy as his namesake. I should after all those political alliances he wiggled out of.”

                    “I wouldn’t. You never mentioned him,” Margaery taps her fingers against her leg.

                    Olenna sighs. “Because he was never an issue. Regardless, I suppose we should use his resources while they are available.”

                    Margaery thinks of the question that has been dogging her since she found Garlan. “Did you know, Grandmother? That the Starks may have survived?”

                    Olenna laughs, but stops when she sees the sincerity in Margaery’s big brown eyes. She reaches out cups Margaery’s cheek. “There were rumors. Of course, anyone in their right mind, such as myself, was smart enough to look the other way.  None of us needed violence or harassment that a war with the Lannisters promised. Instigating the Stark situation would have been poor politics?”

                    “But did you know?” Margaery repeats.

                    “If I had known that girl was a Stark, do you think I would have hid the truth from you?”

                    Margaery looks down at her grandmother’s hand as her thumb strokes Margaery’s cheek. She would have, Margaery knows. If it was for Margaery’s safety, she would have set Sansa up with her herself.

                    “I didn’t know, Margaery. That said, I’m glad she was,” Olenna withdraws her hand as Margaery’s eyes shoot up.

                    “If she had been anyone else, that little monster would have had free reign to do gods know what to you. Actually, Sansa probably knows what. Perhaps you can chat with her about it when she arrives. Nevertheless, she kept you from having to endure that. You should thank her for that, if nothing else.” Olenna chides.

                    “I had Joffrey under control. He was wrapped around my finger before she went and murdered him. She killed him, Grandmother.”

                    “You did a marvelous job, I’m sure, but Cersei is not one to be trifled with. You saw what happens when someone messes with Cersei Lannister.”

                    “I was screwed over because Sansa messed with Cersei. She didn’t have any inclination toward me until the Starks fucked me over!” Margaery tries to keep her voice low to not attract any nosy listeners.

                    “It could have been much worse had her attention been on you rather than Jon Snow.”

                    Margaery scoffs and gets up. “Loras is in jail for a crime he didn’t commit, his boyfriend is dead, I’m on the run, and you think it could have been worse?”

                    “It’s an unfortunate situation, but I prefer my grandchildren alive rather than buried under the Sept.”

                    Margaery clenches her jaw. “I’ve had a long day of travel. I’m going to rest.”

                    Olenna nods. “That’s a good idea. We can discuss our next move tomorrow. You’re old room is set up.”

                    “Thank you. Good night grandmother.” She stops at the doorway and turns around. She takes a deep breath and says, “I love you.”

                    “I love you too, my little rose.”

                    As she makes her way to her room, she passes by another guest room with an open door.

                    “Margaery wait!” Jon calls.

                    Against her better judgement, Margaery stops. Jon comes out of the room. He really does look strange with a buzzcut and no facial hair. Not ugly, but… strange.

                    “What do you want?” She crosses her arms over her chest.

                    “I’m sorry about how everything went down. It shouldn’t have happened like that. And Renly deserved better. Sansa wanted-”

                    “Whatever Sansa wants, she can tell me when she arrives.” Margaery snaps. He’s the last person she wants to talk about her with. Assuming he’s finished, Margaery starts again.

                    “Wait!”

                    She spins around and pinches the bridge of her nose. All she wants is to sleep. “What could you possibly want Jon?!”

                    “It’s just Ygritte-” Margaery sighs dramatically, but he continues “-can you talk to her for me?”

                    “Why don’t you talk to her yourself?”

                    “I was going to, but then she jumped me and… well you heard…” Jon rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.

                    “And I regret every second of that.” Margaery assures him.

                    “Could you ask her where we stand? I mean, I thought that meant we were okay, but she hasn’t said a word to me since. And she keeps avoiding me every time I approach her.”

                    “Jon, I’m not your messenger. Maybe she needs some time to figure things out herself, alright. Let her be and if she wants let her move on. You don’t deserve shit from her.”

                    Jon nods solemnly.

                    “And stop thinking with your dick. If you have the opportunity to talk, use it to actually talk rather than fuck for once,” she adds.

                    She makes her way to her room and shuts the door behind her. She throws herself into bed and is out within minutes.

                    She slowly blinks as the dawn sunlight sneaks through the blinds. Wanting to have time to herself before seeing everyone else, Margaery decides to begin her day early. She goes straight to the shower. The steaming water releases the tension her stiff muscles and she takes her time to think of nothing. The last time she’d used this shower was her ditioner, even the same towel she had last used if she remembers correctly.

                    She changes into a tank top and her old high school sweatpants, which are a little more snug than the used to be.

                    Oberyn is already in the kitchen by the time Margaery gets downstairs.

                    “Early riser?” Margaery asks. She picks up the pot of freshly brewed coffee and pours herself a cup.

                    “This is sleeping in for me. Usually I’d have taken a jog by now, but your grandmother insists I wait a little longer.” Oberyn takes a gulp of his steaming coffee.

                    A knock at the front door interrupts their conversation. Margaery walks to the edge of the kitchen but stops when she hears the door open.

                    “It’s about time you got here.” Olenna scolds whomever is at the door.

                    “I would have been here sooner but I had an important phone call that will impact us,” says a voice Margaery had been dreading to hear again.

                    “She’s already awake, so come in. Keep that- blasted beast! That thing is going to be the death of me,” Olenna curses as the familiar scratch of claws scrape across the marble floor.

                    Lady darts into the kitchen. She stops and wags her tail before charging at Margaery. She screeches to a halt when Margaery holds out her hand. Anxious as Margaery feels, she still finds some amusement in the look of shock on Oberyn’s face.

                    “That is one big dog,” he mutters and pours himself another cup of coffee.

                    Margaery walks past Lady and toward the living room.

                    As she walks, Olenna’s voice grows louder. “Take that ridiculous mask off. This will be hard enough without you looking like a clown.”

                    Around the corner, Alayne holds a blond wig in one hand a fleshy looking mask in the other. She looks tired. Margaery’s chest clenches. Weeks of not seeing her, and Margaery feels torn between the desire to hug her and slap her. She does neither.

                    Sansa opens her mouth to rebut Olenna, but snaps it shut the moment she sees Margaery.

                    “Don’t tell me it’s that hard to come up with a comeback for an old hag such as myself,” Olenna says. Her voice trails off when she sees Sansa staring behind her.

                    For a moment, it’s as though all the air in the room has been sucked into a vacuum. Alayne takes slow, measured steps toward Margaery. Margaery, for her part, will not let herself be the one to back down or walk away. This is her home. Sansa is the stranger here.

                    She stops a foot away from Margaery. Unsure what she should do, she fidgets in place. “Hello, Margaery.”

                    Margaery stares  at her long enough for Alayne to know she is not welcome. With a flourish of a spin, she returns to the kitchen, once more ignoring the dog begging for attention as much as her owner.