#combined with my birthday and plotting out the plot and then being exhausted the past few days
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I'm trying lovelies, I really am! Here's Day 2, even though I'm five days behind now...
@starlikeswomen
First & Next Chapter
Chapter 2: I Guess We're Roommates??
Word Count: 1,384
You felt a little bad that Scar had to sleep on your couch, especially since he was so tall, but he didn't complain about soreness the following morning, so you put your worries aside for the time being. There were more pressing issues anyways, such as how he would get home or your lack of Monster food.
Actually, you didn't have much food at all since you hadn't had time to go shopping since moving in. You apologized to Scar but he assured you that he would be fine for now. Apparently, he was capable of eating Human food, it just required him to use mana to absorb the nutrients rather than them being absorbed on their own. Still, you figured it would be better to pick up some groceries sooner rather than later so that he wouldn't risk completely running out of mana.
After whipping up a quick breakfast, you figured it would be a good idea to finish unpacking your apartment. It would make things a bit more homey for your guest and finding the stuff you needed a lot easier too.
From his place on the couch, Scar watched as you moved back and forth while trying to figure out where to put things. He'd shed his trenchcoat and shoes the night before and you had to admit the gray plaid flannel shirt he was wearing underneath looked good on him. You weren't sure how he did it, but despite being a skeleton, he filled out his clothes quite well. You would rather die than ask about it though.
"Do You Mind If I Help?" he asked after a little bit.
Partway through attempting to hang a picture frame, you turned around and gave him a confused look. "What? You're my guest, you don't need to do anything."
He only raised a bonebrow as you returned to hanging the picture, although you couldn't quite reach the nail even while standing on your tiptoes. After a moment of this, he sighed and stood up. Before you could ask what he was doing, he gently took the picture from you and effortlessly hung it up.
"Are You Sure That You Do Not Want My Help?" he asked, giving you a slightly smug grin.
Feeling a little embarrassed, you glanced away and began worrying at the hem of your shirt. "Well alright... But, only if you want to!"
"I Would Rather Help Than Sit Around And Watch You Continue To Struggle."
For the next few hours, you worked together to organize the apartment. Scar proved to be very good at putting together furniture, which was helpful since you'd lost most of the instructions ages ago. When you complimented his skills, he described the process like solving a puzzle and that he enjoyed putting things in their proper place. All in all, the arduous task of unpacking turned out to be almost fun with his help.
You had a feeling that he'd never seen an Xbox before if the curious looks he gave you while setting it up were any indication. You explained what it could do but the moment you said "video game" he seemed to lose interest. His brother was apparently more into that sort of thing but he did mention that he enjoyed watching documentaries. That led you to showing him how Netflix worked and while he didn't say much, you noticed his scarlet eyelights brighten at the sheer quantity of content, all at the simple press of a button.
When you took a break for lunch, you gave him a crash course on how the appliances worked, just in case. He got a little annoyed at the insinuation that you were worried he'd start a fire but in the same breath quietly thanked you for taking the time to show him.
"Human, Can I Ask You A Question?"
Mid-way through your sandwich, you could only hum in response.
"I Would Like To Know More About You," Scar continued. "Do You Have Any Family?"
You nodded and managed to swallow before answering him properly. "Yeah, I got two older brothers and as far as I know my parents are still kicking around somewhere."
He tilted his skull curiously. "You Do Not Speak With Them Very Often Then?"
You frowned and glanced away before answering. "No, I don't, and I'm happy keeping it that way."
"Understandable."
You nearly had to pick up your chin from the table.
"Why Are You Looking At Me Like That?" Scar huffed. "Your Relationship With Your Family Is None Of My Business, So What Right Do I Have To Pry?"
"O-oh." You felt your cheeks heat up. "You're right. It's just that whenever I've told people about it, they usually suggest that I'm wrong for not wanting to talk to them."
"Humans..." He muttered and rolled his eyelights.
You cleared your throat awkwardly. "You mentioned earlier that you have a brother? Can I ask what he's like?"
Scar paused for a moment and narrowed his eye sockets at you ever so slightly, as if trying to gauge your intentions. "He Is The Antithesis Of Lazy And The Most Obstinate Monster There Is..." He paused before adding in a quieter tone, "But He Is My Family And I Do Not Know What I Would Do Without Him."
You smiled a little at that. "He sounds interesting, I wouldn't mind meeting him sometime."
"Trust Me, You Do Not Want To. He Is A Complete Sleezeball That Flirts With Everyone Even Mildly Attractive."
"Well, if you say so," you chuckled. "He almost sounds like the opposite of you..."
"Indeed," he remarked gravely. "We Very Rarely See Eye To Eye, But At The Very Least, I Can Count On Him To Watch My Back.
"Is he as tall as you?"
Scar got an amused look and chuckled softly. "No, We Competed A Lot Growing Up, But Height Is One Of The Things I Was Able To Beat Him At."
You chuckled as well. While he seemed to only have harsh things to say, you got the feeling that Scar really cared about his brother. Even if they didn't always get along, it must be nice to know that they would look out for each other if things got bad. That was what family was for, right?
A shrill whistle startled you back to the present.
To his credit, Scar only looked mildly alarmed at the disruption and glanced towards your bedroom door where the sound had come from.
"That's just Pickle," you reassured him. "The spoiled brat is probably annoyed that he only has normal food to eat today."
"Ah. You Have A Pet?"
You nodded and stood up to put the dirty dishes in the sink. "I'll have to introduce you. He's a little green bird called a budgie and I've had him for...maybe three years now?"
"What Does He Like To Eat?"
"Mostly normal bird food like seeds and nuts, although I occasionally give him treats like fruits and vegetables. His favourite is actually bananas but I think he mostly just likes to shred the peel."
Scar nodded slightly and stood up, pushing his chair in as he did so. "I Have Not Seen A Budgie Before But He Sounds Entertaining," he commented.
"Oh, he is. I think you'd really like him."
Glancing around at the apartment, you smiled at how much progress you'd both managed to make. "Thanks for helping by the way, you really didn't have to."
Scar rolled his eyelights and huffed. "Well, I Wanted To, But You Are Welcome, Human."
"If you want to take a break, we could go get some groceries? After all that work, I'm craving something sweet anyways."
"It Is Your Decision But I Do Not Mind Either Way."
You grabbed your wallet and keys. "Good, because I think Pickle will hold it against me if I don't get him his fruit fix soon."
Scar chuckled quietly and followed you outside. After you'd locked the door, he asked, "I Take It You Like Sweets?"
"Yeah, I guess you could say I have a bit of a sweet tooth. What about you, big guy?"
He shrugged. "I Do Not Indulge Very Often But I Do Enjoy Sweet Things On Occasion."
"Then there's no reason not to go all out, huh?" you suggested teasingly.
#starspaptober24#raccoons drabbles#i guess we're roommates??#undertale#underfell#underfell papyrus#underfell papyrus x reader#reader#combined with my birthday and plotting out the plot and then being exhausted the past few days#i'm doing my best!#maybe i'll manage to catch up or maybe i won't lol
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The Mask Falling Hints MASTERPOST
Clearly I have wayyy too much time on my hands!
I have compiled a list of information Samantha Shannon has divulged on social media about The Mask Falling, mostly paraphrased from her Tumblr and Twitter. Some of it dates back as far as 2016, so it’s not certain that all of it will happen - I’ve included an asterisk for the tidbits in which Samantha explicitly mentioned that it was pre-editing. I didn’t include a link to the original source because that would be too much work, but if anyone has questions I can probably find it pretty easily! The recent ARC reviews also include some hints, but I haven’t included them because that would be a crap-ton of text. Feel free to add anything I missed! Anyway enjoy the fruits of my obsession!
Hints:
We will find out how badly Warden was affected by Paige’s torture - there’s a lot about the effects of her torture in the book
The non-binary character is a free-world spy, pretending to be French
Paige has issues with drinking water and showering
Paige will make another valiant effort to get Warden to talk about his feelings
Paige’s demisexuality is clarified - she reflects on the way she wants in comparison to the way the allosexual Nick and Eliza do
Paige gets slammed into the wall by someone, but not Terebell (also not Warden, because then she would be very dead)
The grey market storyline continues
Etymological connection of Arcturus meaning bear-guard and Mahoney meaning descendant of the bear is worked into the books
Paige cries
Paige’s PTSD is a thread throughout the book
Paige has mental and physical difficulties following her torture
“The scope of everything gets bigger, there's more focus on the free world and how it interacts with Scion, and you'll find out more about Rephaite history and the origin of clairvoyance.”
You may figure out what happened to Procyon
Warden’s aura type is mentioned*
Paige starts calling Warden Arcturus. They have a discussion about it. But she keeps calling him Warden in front of other people.
The prologue begins about an hour after The Song Rising
Warden asks Paige to teach him Irish
Contains clues as to the big secret at the heart of the series
Warden does a few very sweet things
We’ll find out a reason why Nashira considers Warden a possession rather than a partner*
Paige is at her most fragile
One of the characters eats an orange
There is a distinct Priory parallel in one section of the story
Paige asks Warden if Rephaim can get drunk
We will find out if Rephaim can get physically ill
We’ll get a piece of information that may help us understand the Rephaite logic behind Warden feeding on Paige’s aura
More about the golden cord
Paige’s feelings with her father will be explored
We will find out why it was common knowledge amongst Rephaim that Terebell and Warden were once mated
Warden might tell us what would happen if he tried to eat
More about voyant-amaurotic sex will be explained
We will learn more about the Rephaim’s internal politics and conflicts
We get to see Paige’s birthday
We we’ll find out how Warden knows how to develop Paige’s gift*
Paige and Warden butt heads over right and wrong
We’ll find out why Warden said that Sargas are the only Rephs who choose their mates
We’ll find out more about the half-urge
We’ll find out more about the complicated history between Warden and Terebell
Warden is planning to learn Gaelic (pre-editing)
We’ll find out two of the reasons why Warden hates Nashira so much*
We’ll find out about the promise Warden made to Nashira that she alludes to before the Bicentary
Warden says something with an exclamation mark
Warden will tell us more about the memory of Terebell, and how it was a prelude to one of the defining moments of his existence
Paige visits Warden’s dreamscape a few times, but we only see it once
Paige addresses the author directly
Nick isn’t in the book at all
The plot takes place only in Paris
Paige dies her hair red
A character Samantha did not originally plan to be in TBS4 now is
There’s a big scene in the Sainte-Chapellle in Paris
The book is shaping up to be the darkest book in the series, but also contains the most jokes
Paige feels really ill for most of the book
Samantha starts hinting at the Grand Backstory of the series
Paige is under strict orders to stay inside for a month, but she breaks the rules to explore Paris
The main antagonist was born in “the burning summer of 2019”
We’ll find out about two of Warden’s past relationships
Paige and Warden have to get food deliveries from a guy called Albéric because they’re not allowed to go outside
There’s espionage
Warden uses the super unnecessary word “sennight”
A lot of the book takes place underground
We learn if a non-polyglot could ever learn Gloss
There is a Very Awkward Conversation*
There is a time skip between the fourth and fifth books
Warden smiles a lot… with his eyes
The ending will change everything
Scion must change its public face due to an event that happens at the end
People who liked The Mime Order will love it
TBS4 picks up when Paige is resting.
It will go into more detail about how Rephaim emerge
It marks the beginning of Beautiful Dresses in The Bone Season
It introduces a Rephaite character Samantha absolutely loves, with her favorite Rephaite name
There’s a scene Samantha has wanted to write for years
The ending is very dark
There’s a cute priory reference
There’s a character Samantha loves - “she’s so cool that I don’t know how a nerd like me invented her”
“The relationship between Warden and Paige gets deeper and more complicated in this one, and you get to know Warden a little better.”
“[Paige and Warden] are together a lot in this book, as they’re sharing a safe house in Paris. It’s the first time they’ve spent a significant amount of time with one another since they escaped Sheol I. You’ll actually glimpse the ways they both react to being stuck inside in The Mask Falling, as they’re meant to stay hidden in a safe house for a month so Paige can start to recover from her ordeal.”
“It’s a love song to Paris in the way The Mime Order was a love song to London.”
“[Paige and Warden do have some happy calm moments.] Although there’s a lot of action in the book, there’s also quite a lot of downtime. Paige is still recovering from her ordeal in the Archon, so she can’t always be out in the world kicking ass. She’s resting as well, trying to get her strength back.”
“I won’t lie, The Mask Falling is a book to fear . . . but there are some nice bits. Including some coffee-drinking.”
“[Paige and Warden] do so much in this book. So much.”
“Most of the characters who didn’t go to Paris are absent from TBS4.”
“Paige and Warden do so much in this book, I just couldn’t cram any other storylines in. However, several old friends do turn up in it, as well as a bunch of new characters I hope you’ll love as much as I do.”
“Paige [experiences the messiest-most-intense emotion in TBS4]. She goes through the emotional wringer in this one.”
“The second ‘arc’ has the same main characters and the same antagonist. The difference has more to do with the setting, the scope of the narrative, and the type of battle being fought against Scion. You’ll have a better idea of what I mean when you read the end of TBS4.”
“This book puts both [Paige and Warden] through the emotional wringer, but there are lighter parts as well.” “Nick meets an old friend while he’s in Sweden and Paige and Warden will be staying in central Paris, on Rue Gît-le-Cœur. You can see some of the locations from Book 4 here: [x]”
“TBS4 is basically just a long Hurt/Comfort piece with occasional and reluctant splashes of Action/Adventure”
“THE MASK FALLING leans a little more Adult than the other BONE SEASON books. The whole series is officially classified as Adult, but the first three aren't far off YA in terms of sexual content, violence etc. THE MASK FALLING is . . . maybe a tiny bit sexier.”
“Doing my final reread of THE MASK FALLING and naturally I've noticed a recurring phrase that I have used no less than thirty times in the manuscript.”
“It blows the world of The Bone Season right open. It’s where everything changes. It takes place in a brand-new setting and forms the bridge between the two ‘arcs’ of the series. I hope the ending will show readers get why I really do need seven instalments to tell this story.”
“Books 1-4 is what I call the “Scion arc”, but Scion is still a threat in Books 5-7. Book 4 is kind of in the middle, with more of a focus on Rephaim than there currently is in Book 3.”
“He’s in Book 4, he’s French, he’s voyant, and I’m writing his introduction scene now. I think I love him?”
“The draft is about 140 000 words long – a little shorter than The Mime Order – with a veritable tonne of action, espionage, international politics, eerie catacombs, old enemies, new friends, and messy, intense emotions packed into that word count.”
“This one combines my favourite elements of The Bone Season (Warden and Paige chats), The Mime Order (syndicate weirdness) and The Song Rising (heists and angst)”
“The fourth Bone Season book is well underway, and things are about to take a very dark turn for Paige.”
“It’s mostly focused on Paris, but you’ll find out bits and pieces about what’s happening in both England and Europe.”
“She’s suffering from PTSD and aquaphobia following her water torture in The Song Rising, so she’s pretty much in the ringer for the whole book. There are a few light moments, but she’s under a lot of stress from the start.”
“While I wouldn't call it spy fiction, TBS4 is delving into espionage territory as Warden and Paige, still exhausted from their tremendous efforts against Scion in The Song Rising, attempt to navigate the convoluted political and criminal networks of Scion Paris.”
“Book 4 is a touch more political, laced with subterfuge”
Lists:
Things you’ll see:
The carrières of Paris
A masquerade (ofc)
A mysterious character you haven’t seen in a long while
Arcturus Mesarthim saying ‘hm’ about 18 times
Five words:
Revelations
Politics
Water
Heartache
War
Three adjectives:
Macabre
Emotional
Seismic
There is a lot of:
Warden and Paige
Rain
Classy interior decor
Angst
New characters include:
A spy so fashionable and icy cool I’m unsure of how a nerd like me created her
A tall, irritable Frenchman with a bit of a God complex
A terrifying new Rephaite with an uncomfortably sexy voice
It has:
A Parisian underworld
A demisexual MC
A masquerade ball
Catacombs
Forbidden, angst-stricken desire
Verbal consent
Acknowledgement of periods
I can promise:
Parisian buildings TOURISTS LOVE. Notre-Dame? It's there, there's a masquerade INSIDE IT. Sainte-Chapelle? Oui. Versailles? Naturally. The Eiffel Tower? Oh, we're climbing it
Getting DOWN and DIRTY. (By which I mean literally, down, into the catacombs.)
People who arrive in Paris SPEAKING FRENCH because they have been given a job for which they have the correct SKILLSET *bangs table*
No crêpes (#OhCrepe), but CHAUSSONS AUX POMMES
ROOFTOP PICNIC
Not everyone is STRAIGHT
Chic OUTFITS, all quite filthy by the end
Locations:
The beautiful Sainte-Chapelle, my favourite place on Earth.
Rue Gît-le-Cœur, a major location in the book and previously home to the Beat Hotel.
The famous doorway in the Paris Catacombs. The inscription translates to 'Stop! This is the Empire of Death.'
Rue Montmartre, where we may or may not encounter an old face.
Preview in gifs:
Originally posted by cinemagraphs
Originally posted by queeniegoldtsein
Originally posted by cumlelerinruhu
Snippets:
Out-of-context chapter title: Chapter 3: Gloomy Coffee
Part names*:
1. To Pay Thee Free
2. Turn the Anchor
3. Eurydice
Quotes:
“What the fuck is that?” she whispered to me. “Looks like a frozen rainbow.”
“The horizon was as red as if the fire still burned. I watched the sunrise from the roof. Fog breathed into every nook and alcove of Paris, laced over the dark crests of the river, blanched the skin to the pink of salmon. I was sure the air was still spiced with the tang of smoke.”
“So,” he said, “we are choosing larceny.” “Always so surprised when his criminal friend commits crimes.”
“I wouldn’t usually care who you’re riding at any given time”
“I sensed all of this was very important, but I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about”
“I picked up the floundering ribbons of my dignity and started over”
“His home was in decay, and mine lay in the shadow of the anchor. Scion had made wanderers of us.”
Current opening line (circa Dec 18, 2018): “The sun had been climbing over the cliffs when our ship had pared away from Dover.”
“Someone who had heard of me and whose first response had not been to try to kill me. What a treat.”
“A hollow ache stretched out within me. It started in the chambers of my heart, in a place that reached eternally for Ireland.”
“‘I promised you we would stay together,’ he said. ‘In the absence of other options, I will follow your lead on this matter.’”
“‘I’m fine.’ ‘Your attempt to mask the darkness under your eyes serves as compelling evidence of that. As does the full bowl of coffee.’ I cocked my head. ‘Did you just master sarcasm?’ ‘Paige.’ ‘It’s a cup of coffee. With… no handle.’”
“‘There’s no fireplace,’ I stated. ‘No.’ ‘But how are you-‘ A wild laugh was bubbling up. ‘How are you going to cope without one?’ ‘Cope,’ Warden repeated. ‘You need one. To stare into, pensively. Did you know,’ I said to him, ‘that you do that a lot?’ He tilted his head, which only set off a fit of silent laughter. My ribs ached in protest.”
‘I mustered all the breath I had left and screamed, until I folded on myself and my voice burned to nothing.’
‘Who can break you now, Black Moth, now there is nothing left to break?’
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The Fool (Ch. 2) {Fred Weasley x F!OC}
SUMMARY ››››› After getting tangled up with the Weasley Twins during the events of the Quidditch World Cup, Wren Collings’ life takes a turn for the chaotic. It threatens everything she has going for her, but she’s not convinced that’s entirely a bad thing.
PAIRING ››››› Fred Weasley x Female OC
WORD COUNT ››››› 7,000-ish
WARNINGS ››››› There is no depression or mental health issues in this story, but there are mentions of death, violence, abuse, some PTSD, etc. As most of the specific warnings revolve around major plot points or are found throughout most chapters, I’m just going to rate certain chapters on the movie scale. This is chapter PG-13.
A/N ››››› This chapter is dedicated to my lovely friend Emma. You KNOW why.
Series Masterlist | Read on ff.net
Wren wasn’t sure who was right, if it was Simon or the cards or her gut feeling about this year: all she knew for sure was that NEWT classes, and not the Triwizard Tournament, would be the death of her.
The last part was a bit of a disappointment, not so much that she wanted to die in a blaze of glory, but she would have at least liked the chance. Sadly, her June birthday saw to the fact that she would be a supporter and not a competitor.
Her small silver lining (more dull grey than a true silver) was that it was one less thing to worry about on top of her classes. McGonagall’s warning when passing over her time table that this year would have a “demanding workload” was apparently code for “grueling affair with death itself.”
Transfiguration, Charms, and Defense Against the Dark Arts seemed fixated on killing her through the traditional means of excessive school work, but the rest seemed to approach her death in a more “hands on” manner.
Herbology seemed intent on strangulation as Professor Sprout has decided to begin with snargaluffs and venomous tentacula. Dodging the slippery and spiky spines soon became second nature.
Hagrid has decided to introduce them to, if not venomous, exceedingly dangerous animals. Currently the class was in the process of telling jokes to Fwoopers as an alternative method to the silencing charm. Leave it to Hagrid to find out that they just click their beak when laughing. Of course, the untraditional method had already put Kenneth Towler and Amina Qureshi into the hospital wing to treat their minor insanity. But, all things considered it was a nice reprieve.
For its part, Potions had started off the year with poisons and their antidotes, which while extremely fascinating was somewhat nerve racking. Wren was fairly certain that at some point Snape would attempt to poison her as the lone Gryffindor in NEWT level potions. That minor fear, in addition to her particular love for the magic, drove her to devoting most of her studying hours to the class.
Which seemed to come in handy now as Snape began to pass out his unannounced quiz to the class. To Wren's surprise and mild relief, it was not a practical quiz but instead a written one. She assumed this was in an attempt to catch out students with trick questions which could otherwise be avoided as long as their potions worked.
In fact, as Wren reached question four, she was sure of it:
I am called in to the Hospital Wing once again because a careless Herbology student has failed to properly cork the juice of a Venomous Tentacula and has gotten some on their skin. What condition do I find him in, and how will I cure it?
She remembered this one as it had been a precaution Professor Sprout had failed to give them. She had simply instructed them not to let any get on their skin, and it was only in potions that Snape had revealed why. It had been more of a side comment in his lecture antidotes for the plant's other means of attack: bite, spike, and venom.
The student will be a bright shade of purple, and depending on how much juice he has come in contact with, complain of a faint burning sensation. The student should also feel quite embarrassed about their negligence. No antidote is truly needed except time which will hopefully make them more careful. Should you choose to cure them, however, the quickest effective cure would be a tincture of muddled fluxweed, shredded boomslang skin, and leech juice. The student will be extremely pale instead for a few days, but it might be preferable to the purple colour.
Wren reread her answer and felt that all loopholes were closed before she moved on to the next question.
A student suddenly collapses in the middle of class during last hour and slowly turns to stone. She has come into contact with no plants or creatures and eaten and drank of nothing since lunch. What were they poisoned with and what is the antidote?
Wren twirled her quill in her hands. Come into contact with nothing but suddenly turned into stone. They could have seen a basilisk? No, that only petrified people, it didn't turn them into stone. Could they have a Gorgon run into their class? Unlikely unless the student was in the Grecian Isles. And that was a sudden turning. This student slowly turned into stone.
It hit her, thinking of islands. Naghinbato Brew.
The student was likely dosed with Naghinbato Brew during their lunch. This poison is undetectable aside from its slight tang and it takes approximately four hours to begin affecting the person poisoned. If the student was lucky enough to fall over with her mouth open, a Wiggenweld potion with some Mandrake roots brewed in after the salamander's blood would reverse the effects. If not, an Adarna must be brought in to sing the student awake.
The remainder of the questions proved to be more and more tricky so that by the end Wren hoped for nothing but essays and practical exams for the rest of the year. The wording of each question proved difficult to navigate and at the end as she packed up her bag to leave for Defense Against the Dark Arts, she found herself casting a look at Snape who had begun to grade the quizzes and looked very much like he had just smelled something unpleasant.
Wren turned and headed out the door, eager to put the past hour behind her.
"Hey, Wren." Quick footsteps caught up to her as Cedric appeared to her left. As the only Hufflepuff in Potions, the pair had taken to sitting together as the sole representatives of their respective houses. Wren had to admit, she hadn't expected to see him on the first day of class. Nora had always claimed he was brilliant, but it had never quite shown through in any of the classes they had together. "How do you think it went?" Cedric asked, adjusting his bag on his shoulder.
Wren shook her head. "I don't know. Has he even taught us any antidotes involving the dirt of a child's grave? Or was that just a veiled threat?"
Cedric chuckled. "They use it against Amnetias."
"Of course," Wren moaned.
"What combination of poisons did you list as the components for that last one. I got Angel's Trumpet Draught but what caused the vertigo?
"I said Syrup of Hellebore."
Cedric winced. "Missed that one."
"Your antidote could still work," Wren shrugged, making her way up the stairs as Cedric walked behind her. The two of them pressed close to the walls as a flood of nervous looking Hufflepuff first-years descended down the stairs. Poor kids.
"Not likely," Cedric said. "I used a creature-based remedy for the vertigo."
"Ah well," Wren sighed. "At least we'll all get D's together." Cedric laughed at this and they continued the rest of the way up. The two exited the stairwell, heading towards the classroom that had been the talk of the school recently.
Quite frankly, Dumbledore should have hired an ex-Auror much sooner. Professor Lupin had been good--loads better than Lockhart or Quirrell, or Merlin-forbid, the ghoulish woman Wren had her first year--but Moody, he had lived this. His very first lesson for all of the students 4th through 6th year had been showing the Unforgiveable Curses. Today they were supposed to be practicing resisting the Imperius Curse. This was real education.
Wren entered the classroom, peeling off from Cedric who walked over towards where Nora was sitting with their other Hufflepuff friends. Instead Wren sat at the desk across the aisle from her dorm mates-- Angelina and Alicia.
It was pitiful how quickly Wren had given into the Imperius Curse.
Unsurprisingly, Fred Weasley had been the longest hold out, beating George by a full twenty seconds. Wren suspected it had something to do with their natural inclination to ignore any given directive, but Lee Jordan hadn't done as well as Angelina, and she was by far the most rule-abiding in their friend group.
Wren spent a good portion of the rest of her week practising fortifying herself against being Imperiused so as not to embarrass herself the next lesson.
Her timing wasn't much better.
She largely chalked this up to mental exhaustion after the previous afternoon's brutal double Potions lesson. Snape had clearly been seeking retribution for the class's quiz scores. While Wren had managed to earn an E on hers, it seemed the rest of the class had not been so careful reading the questions if Snape's rant about their inattention to the finer details and nuances of potion making was any indication.
So, after that lesson on Wednesday, being Imperiused on Thursday, and failing to to transfigure her raccoon on Friday, Wren felt completely spent and ill prepared for the mountain of homework awaiting her this weekend.
"I'm not going to survive NEWT classes," Wren griped, laying her head down on her arm and giving her eyes a rest from her Charms textbook, instead gazing at a sideways Simon who looked up at her from across the table.
"You're not going to die," he shook his head, returning his eyes to his parchment. "Nora didn't read it in your cards."
Wren rolled her eyes at the sarcastic joke and propped her head back up on her palm. She might have been more annoyed at the lack of sympathy if it weren't for the fact that she brought up how busy and stressed she was each time he saw her. It was a miracle he put up with her, really. She doubted anyone else would.
"You're right," she agreed. "But, a study break couldn't hurt. We've got ten minutes 'til dinner. Plenty of time to pack up and go to our corner..." She dropped her hand and leaned towards him. Simon looked up from his work again, this time giving her a small smile as he came forward and kissed her gently and far, far too briefly. He sat back into his chair, leaving Wren hovering over the center of the table.
"I wish we could," he sighed, picking up his quill. "Truly." His eyes raked down her face to the opening of her blouse. Wren's face heated up, and she returned to her chair. "But I have to get this done. My weekend's packed as is, and they rescheduled Wizard's Chess Club to tonight so I already have less time than usual."
Wren pouted "I know," she said, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "I just miss you is all. I haven't seen you all week."
It hadn't been that either of them was avoiding the other--this year it just seemed like their time tables filled up too quickly with barely enough room to squeeze in each other. Each of their classes seemed to meet at opposite times so they never had a free period together. Time after dinner was largely devoted to clubs, homework, studying, and prefect duties with the weekends looking largely the same with the addition of Simon's commitments to his Ravenclaw friends and tutoring of younger students. The only small bit of time they had together during the week was the hour right before dinner on Fridays.
"Wren," Simon said, his voice taking on a slight edge. "I'm doing my best, ok?"
Wren's cheeks grew hot with embarrassment. She hadn't meant to insinuate that he wasn't. She wanted to whine about how Hogwarts seemed to be plotting against them, not whine about him.
"It's my seventh year. I sit NEWTs in June. If you think professors are giving you too much, just wait 'til next year. It's all I can do to keep my head above the water. Between that and my duties," he paused, running a hand through his hair and breaking off the sentence. "When we meet to study, all I can do is study. I want to spend time with you, but I can't afford to just muck about this year."
Wren nodded, sinking back into her chair. She needed to stop complaining. She needed to make the most of their time together. She needed to remember the lessons she had learned from her parents' own marriage dynamic of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. That the Ravenclaw would always focus on the goals and achievements, but couldn't function without the Gryffindor by their side. He did need her. He did want her. She had to just get over this.
This wasn't last year.
For the remainder of their time together, the pair worked in silence. Or, at least, Simon worked. Wren re-read the same paragraph out of her textbook three different times. The silence continued even as they packed up to go to dinner and most of the way down the corridor.
Suddenly Simon tugged Wren by the arm to the side of the hall, the movement leading her to gasp in surprise. He stood before her for a second, looking down at his shoes. "I'm sorry," he apologized, dropping his hand from her arm to hold her hand. "I'm just stressed."
Wren nodded quietly, her eyes also on his navy blue and white wing tips.
"I already hate how little we get to see each other, and when you brought it up--it felt like you were trying to make me feel guilty. And it worked."
"I wasn't trying," Wren said, smally. "I was being honest."
Simon tucked a finger under her chin, tilting it up so he could press another kiss to her lips. This one was far harder than the one in the library, and soon his hands moved to her waist and behind her neck, pulling her against him. Wren's brain had just caught up with the moment, allowing her to tug at the front of his robes when he broke away and leaned his forehead against hers. Tingles still raced to her nerve endings as her body buzzed from the kiss. Simon's kisses always seemed to linger--or perhaps, echo was the right word. The sweetness of the library had lasted longer than the kiss, and the dizziness of this kiss…
"We'll figure it out, ok?" Simon asked. "It's the beginning of the year. Once things settle, we'll find more time."
Wren hummed in agreement, kissing him quickly and chastely before following him off towards dinner.
Weekends hardly felt like the weekend anymore. No time with Simon. No sightings of Nora. Even her dorm mates were out of the Gryffindor tower in various parts of the castle. Everything seemed to pass in a blur. One moment she was eating breakfast on Saturday morning, and the next it was Sunday evening and she was hunched over a stack of Transfigurations books in a corner of the common room. Wren sighed as a fifth year boy burst out laughing as an Exploding Snap tower blew up in his friend's face. The noise was getting too much for both her concentration and her nerves, so, gathering up her books, she retreated up to her dorm, spreading out the materials on her bed.
An hour later, she jolted awake to the door flying open. Wren's pulse raced as she extracted her cheek from the page of her textbook and blinked around to see what had happened. Alicia stood just inside, tears streaming down her face. She also seemed surprised to see Wren, half sitting up amongst her materials with her hair sticking to her face.
"Oh, hullo, Wren," she greeted, hastily wiping at her eyes while studiously avoiding Wren's gaze.
Wren lifted herself up to a seating position, her face creasing in worry. She wished she had Nora's natural instinct to know what to do in situations like this. Did she ask questions? Pretend like she didn't notice the tears? Leave?
"Hi," Wren said gently.
Alicia walked over to her bed, bending over to pull off her shoes. She succeeded in unlacing one and threw it to the floor with much more aggression than the shoe could possibly have deserved.
"Are you all right?" Wren asked dumbly, cringing the second the question came out of her mouth. It was exceedingly obvious, even to her, that Alicia was very much not all right.
"I'll be ok," Alicia brushed aside, fighting with the other shoe.
"Ok," Wren nodded, despite the fact that Alicia still refused to look at Wren.
"Is Angelina around?" Alicia's voice came out tight and high.
Wren winced. "I think she's in the library with Lee."
Alicia nodded, evidently not trusting her voice for a response.
"If you'd like, I'll fetch her," Wren offered. Because that was the decent thing to do right? That was the right solution? Before she could get a response, Wren hedged her bets. "But also if you want, I'm a decent listener."
"It's stupid," Alicia dismissed, despite the fact that her voice seemed to crack around the word.
"Given the fact that I haven't seen you cry more than twice over the past six years, I doubt that."
"It's just...boys are morons," Alicia sat down on her bed, and Wren got up from hers, humming in agreement with Alicia's statement as she crossed the room, sinking down into the bed next to her dorm mate. She lifted her arm to put it around Alicia's shoulders before moving to pull her hair back over her shoulder as if that's what she had always intended to do. She couldn't remember: was it Angelina or Alicia who didn't like to be touched? She had to be the world's worst dorm mate. It was a miracle they even tolerated her.
"And which boy in specific is the moron that made you cry?"
Wren had a sinking feeling she already knew the answer.
"Thom Spiro."
While she had expected it, she still had no idea what to say hearing the name of the boy Alicia fancied fall from her lips. Guessing what he did hardly seemed appropriate, but given the wide range of idiocy common in the teenage boys of Hogwarts, asking seemed to be a dangerous option too. So instead, she sat next to Alicia and tentatively looped her arms around her in what she hoped was not the most awkward hug to ever be given. Whether or not it was, Alicia fell into Wren, her crying picking up.
"I caught him kissing Louisa Finch."
Wren's spine straightened, but she didn't say anything.
"Last night--we were fooling around, and he wanted--" Alicia sobbed, seemingly unable to continue as she buried herself into Wren's shoulder. "I said no. I shouldn't have--"
"No," Wren said, firmly. "Absolutely not. You're not finishing that thought."
Alicia sniffed. "But--maybe--"
"No," Wren repeated, shaking her head. "You're not for his use. Obviously he doesn't want a companion, he just wants something he can stick his knob into. You're more than that."
Alicia let out a watery laugh. "I can't believe you said knob."
"What else do you call it?" Wren asked, and Alicia laughed a bit harder. Spotting a bit of success, Wren smiled. "He's a wanker. A tosser. A prick. A dickhead. A pants thinker. A broomstick with no lift. A magicless wand. I'm just guessing on the last two."
Alicia wiped at her eyes, extracting herself from Wren's hug. "I wouldn't know."
"Because you're smart," Wren said, grabbing Alicia's hand and squeezing it. "If you're not ready, you're not ready. It's better to wait than dive in too soon."
A pause settled between them as Alicia silently nodded seeming to think over the statement. "You're right, but--" she swallowed, and Wren could see the tears begin to gather in her eyes again. "It still hurts."
Behind her Wren heard the door to the dorm open and she looked over her shoulder to see Angelina.
"What happened?" she asked, the tone of her voice hinting that she already suspected exactly the story she was going to hear. Alicia filled her in quickly, adding a few more details that had been lost to sobs when she told Wren. All the while, Angelina listened, her face growing stonier and stonier. "Well, you know what we have to do now," she said simply.
Alicia nodded. "Can you?"
Wren looked between the two girls, her brow creased in confusion. "Sorry, I feel like I'm missing something."
Angelina turned her attention to Wren with an echo of amusement on her face. "We have to tell the twins."
It was impressive how much food Fred and George were able to knick in just a half hour. Crisps, popcorn, apple tarts, pumpkin pasties, oranges, treacle fudge, nut brittle, and butterbeer were all placed in the center of the floor of the boys' dorm. Wren and Katie had managed to scrape together a decent stash of other candies like Fizzing Whizzbees, Sugar Quills, Liquorice Wands, and Acid Pops while Lee had convinced the other sixth year boys to leave the dorm and done an impressive job cleaning. Either that, or the boys were a lot neater than Wren would have ever expected.
Wren reached forward, grabbing a new bottle of butter beer and tapping her wand to the top so the bottle cap flipped off.
"Alright are we going to keep avoiding it or should we get to the business of bashing Spiro?" Fred asked, rubbing his hands together. "I've got some excellent remarks on the spelling of his name."
"Come on Freddie, that’s too easy," George admonished, plucking up a handful of crisps. "Let’s get straight to the point that he's a disgrace to Ravenclaw House."
Wren choked on her butterbeer, and Katie reached over to pat her back some as she attempted to pull herself together. Angelina looked more amused at Wren's reaction than the comment, and Alicia turned rather glum as she twirled a sugar quill between her fingers.
"I'm sure there's plenty of boys in Ravenclaw who have done the same," Alicia sighed, lifting the tip of the quill so she could nibble on it.
"No doubt. Boys are horrid," George agreed. "But even amongst the ranks of Roger Davies and Hector Martín-Delgado, Spiro has a particular brain. One might even liken it to a troll's."
Fred nodded. "He's got to be the dullest of the lot. Not quite sure how he got in, frankly."
"No bloke in their right mind would choose Louisa Finch over you," Lee added, nudging Alicia with his shoulder. The corner of her mouth ticked up.
"That's one thing for sure, but the larger issue is--why snog in a public corridor if you're attempting to run around with as many girls as possible?" George asked.
Even Alicia laughed this time, spitting bits of sugar quill out of her mouth before clamping a hand over it.
"A fair question, George," Fred acknowledged, toasting him with his butterbeer. "There are plenty of empty classrooms for that."
"Or any of the not-so-secret passages," Katie added.
"Behind a tapestry," Angelina shrugged.
"In the woods at night," George suggested.
"Anyone on the grounds, really." Wren put in quickly.
Alicia smiled. "He's not exactly the best at finding spots for...rendezvous. Last time I tried to meet him, I ended up with you and Norah Randolph." Alicia gestured at Wren. This thought seemed to deflate her a bit. "It must be nice to have a boyfriend. You don't have to worry about the running around together bit."
“I wouldn’t know,” George quipped, popping some Fizzing Whizzbees into his mouth.
Alicia reached over and smacked his arm. George flinched away with a chuckle, his body slowly lifting off the floor as he tossed the rest of the sweets in his hand into his mouth. “I was talking to Wren,” Alicia corrected.
“You have a boyfriend?” Fred’s eyebrows shot up as he looked over at her, locking eyes. Her stomach flipped and she paused mid lick of her Acid Pop.
“Where was he at the Cup?” George asked. She felt more than saw his eyes on her.
Wren swallowed, clearing her throat of all sugar. This was not a conversation she wanted to be having. Not ever really, but particularly not now. “He was on holiday.”
“You may very well be on holiday, but you come back for the Cup!” Fred said, indignantly. As if Simon’s absence from the Quidditch World Cup was a particular affront to Fred’s own honor as a fan of the sport.
Wren returned her focus to the acid pop at hand. With any luck it would burn a hole through her tongue in the next twenty seconds, and she’d have an excuse to end this conversation before it steered into unwanted territory. “Well, he’s not particularly a Quidditch fan.”
“What particularly is he then?” George asked.
“Simon Chambers,” Wren answered, sticking the lollipop back into her mouth and deciding that she would not take it out under any circumstances.
“Simon Chambers? Really? You and him?” Fred asked. The shock in his voice was a bit offensive.
Before Wren could break her own resolve–which might have had something to do with why she couldn’t manage to stay un-Imperiused-- Angelina stepped in. “They’ve been dating almost two years,” Angelina looked between the twins. “How did you not know?”
The twins shared a look, and shit, shit, shit.
“Well, I just never would have seen it. You, George?”
“No, never.” No one asked Lee, but he shook his head.
Despite the small wave of relief, her stomach still felt as if it was twisted in knots, and she wished very much that all of the attention was off of her. “Look this isn’t about my love life, this is about celebrating Alicia for narrowly avoiding dating a troll’s tit.”
“Collings! Your language!” George gasped, holding a hand to his chest.
“You should have heard her earlier tirade,” Alicia said, grabbing a licorice wand from Lee’s hand.
Wren once again took the acid pop out of her mouth to defend herself. “It was hardly a tirade. None of the words I said were that bad.”
Alicia crossed her arms. “Would you use them in front of your mother?”
Wren opened her mouth but before she could get a word in, Fred followed up the question.
“Would you use them in front of McGonagall.”
Wren’s mouth snapped shut and the boys laughed.
Katie shook her head. “Never would have expected that out of you, Wren.”
“I never would have expected it out of Simon Chambers’ girlfriend,” Fred remarked.
Wren cast him a sour look, and he laughed loudly, but the subject was dropped, and they returned to eating unhealthy amounts of junk, devising new insults for Thom Spiro, and escaping all of the things that truly sucked about being a 6th year.
Despite the fact that she had to spend two hours, first thing in the morning, avoiding plants attempting to kill her, Wren found Herbology to be a bit of a reprieve. Even today as Professor Sprout taught them to wrangle with a Venomous Tentacula in order to effectively and moderately safely collect the plant’s juice, Wren felt as if she was able to breathe in the Greenhouse.
Part of this she attributed to her mother. Having grown up with a Herbologist of some note, a good amount of Wren’s childhood was spent in the gardens and greenhouses her mother tended. Of course, her mother had never let her get near anything quite so interesting as the plants at Hogwarts, but she’d always quite enjoyed tending to the honking daffodils and umbrella flowers.
Her young training had certainly come in handy during the early years of Herbology, but even now as she collected vial after vial of the juice. Wren backed away from the plant, casting an eye around the greenhouse. Many students seemed to still be struggling getting near the plants, while others, like Fred Weasley, seemed to have no issue getting near the plant but couldn’t quite figure out how to draw out the juice. She continued looking around, her eyes landing on Thom Spiro who was currently standing far too close to Caroline Purvis. She giggled as she held the vial up to the plant, and he stepped even closer, almost forgetting his role as a distractor for the plant.
Wren’s jaw clenched. George was right. Boys were horrid, and Thom Spiro was a special sort. He deserved a serious bit of justice.
As she set the vials in their holder to be brought up to Professor Sprout when class ended, an awful idea struck Wren.
It made her smile.
With one eye on Professor Sprout who was busy helping Arlan Summers and Tom Dalgliesh with their plant, Wren corked a vial, wrapped it in cloth, and stuck it in her bag.
Herbology ended soon after, some pairs, like Wren, scoring as many as four while others had nothing but a few tears in their robes to show for their morning.
Quickly, Wren made her way up the hill towards the courtyard where she could study before lunch. She had just picked out a spot lawn when something in the corner of her eye caught her attention. She turned, staring harder as if that would make things make more sense.
Alicia and Nora were….hugging?
It was none of her business. She should really sit down and open up a textbook and focus on her studies and not be walking across the courtyard right now.
"Hi?" Wren cast a look between the two girls.
"Hullo Wren," Alicia said, the words coming out a bit muffled because of the sweet she was chewing. Wren turned her attention to Nora, squinting at her cousin as if that would explain why she was suddenly such close friends to Alicia. Alicia, Wren's dorm mate, whom Nora had had maybe three classes with in her entire Hogwarts career.
As both girls looked at Wren somewhat expectantly, it hit her that she probably should have come up with some excuse to be coming over to say hello. "Hi," Wren repeated again, this time more as a statement than a question. "I just wanted to catch Nora, for a second."
"Yes?" Nora asked, tilting her head slightly.
Shit.
"Mum said to ask if Aunt Kathleen had sent you my color changing ink. She thinks I must have left it at your house when we got back from shopping."
Nora shook her head. "No, mum hasn't sent anything yet...I thought I saw that in your trunk?"
Shit. Shit. Wren was saved from having to attempt another lie by Alicia.
"Wait--are you two cousins? I always thought you were neighbors or met on the train."
Nora laughed heartily. "I know it's hard for me to believe this moody one is my blood," she teased, poking Wren.
"To be fair, we are practically neighbors. It's just the two houses between us," Wren said, batting Nora's hand away as the other girl continued to poke Wren in the arm.
"Blimey," Alicia shook her head. "I'm just as bad as Fred and George aren't I?"
Wren wanted to assure her that she wasn't. The fact that Alicia even knew Wren was dating Simon was purely because Wren had asked her for advice to help get dressed for their first date. The only reason Wren had known that Alicia fancied Thom was more due to Lee announcing it to the common room one afternoon at the end of last year than because of any kind of closeness between the girls. But Wren didn't get the chance because Nora spun to face her.
"Oh?" she asked, her voice going up an octave. "How's that?"
"They didn't know she was dating Simon Chambers."
“Well can’t blame them for that one,” Nora's voice returned to normal as she once more turned to Alicia, ignoring Wren's glare. “You two are never around each other.”
“Our schedules don’t match," Wren defended flatly.
Even though she wasn't facing her, Wren could see the small twinkle in Nora's eyes. “Would you say it’s…'an unavoidable conflict'?”
Wren groaned, and Nora laughed again. "Told you Wren. Divination is serious magic. Anyway," Nora flipped her plait over her shoulder. "I'm supposed to meet Arlan and Cedric so we can do some Astronomy work before lunch. Keep me updated," she added to Alicia who nodded in agreement. With that, Nora was off leaving Wren and Alicia together.
"I can't believe I didn't know Nora Randolph was your cousin!" Alicia shook her head, moving out into the courtyard. Wren followed her.
"I didn't know you were friends."
"We're not really. Or at least, we weren't," Alicia said, selecting a shady spot under a tree and sitting down. Wren hesitated before putting her own bag down and sitting beside the other girl. "We have Ancient Runes together. With Thom."
Wren's eyes widened. "Oh."
"She saw me looking miserable yesterday and made her partner switch chairs with me. Next thing I know, she's passing me toffees and I'm telling her the whole story."
Wren shook her head with a small laugh. “That sounds like Nora.”
Alicia began unpacking some parchment and books from her own bag. "There's not anything in those toffees is there? Veritaserum or something of the sort?"
Wren shook her head again. “That’s just Nora. People'll tell her anything.”
“I think we might be best mates now.” Alicia commented and Wren laughed before taking out her own work, and settling into a studious silence next to Alicia.
She hadn't planned how to get the juice into Thom Spiro' drink.
That was the primary thought running through Wren's head as she sat at the Gryffindor table, picking at her food. She had waved Alicia on to lunch before her, claiming she was just going to finish the chapter before she went in and the other girl didn't have to wait. She'd waited fifteen minutes to enter the Great Hall, sitting far along the table so as not to be seen by professors or any of the prefects who tended to group together at the middle of the table whether consciously or not.
It was about then that the thought hit her for the first time, and she had eaten most of her food and was in the final quarter or so of lunch without the faintest clue as to how to get this vial in his drink.
She couldn't very well just walk up to the Ravenclaw table and slip some in his goblet. The most interaction she'd ever had with him was holding a door open to Charms. They'd never even so much as spoken. Wren half considered dropping a knut on the floor and picking it up and handing it to him. But, passing off a knut and simultaneously pouring something into his goblet seemed just short of impossible.
Wren took a bite out of her roll, watching as more Ravenclaws came in and filled the table. She caught sight of a familiar tall and lean boy with copper hair, and her eyes lit up. Simon. She would walk over under the perfectly reasonable guise of saying hello to her boyfriend, and swap her own goblet with Thom’.
This plan quickly crashed as Simon passed Thom, picking an empty spot, naturally towards the center of the table.
Of course, Wren had considered switching her plan to a simple Pepper Breath Hex, which certainly would have put an end to his romantic endeavors at least for the next couple of days or so. But compared to her initial plan, this idea seemed so inadequate. And how could she even be sure that Alicia got to enjoy the justice? There had to be some way, some excuse, for her to switch goblets--
Of course.
It was so simple, really.
It was unlikely the teachers would expect it. If anything, it'd be written off as an unhappy accident from Herbology. If only he had properly corked his vial or used gloves to pass it along like Professor Sprout had said. Quickly glancing around to see if anyone was looking at her, which of course they weren't, Wren pulled the Venomous Tentacula juice from her bag and poured it in her own cup.
Subtly, she took her wand out of her pocket and with another quick glance up at the professor's table, tapped her own goblet, muttering the spell.
She peered inside and noticed her cup was slightly emptier than it had been.
She'd switched them. A rush of victory swelled in Wren's chest and she almost wished that someone near her would give her a high five.
It took five minutes to determine that her plan worked. A small commotion rose at the Ravenclaw table which seemed like normal lunch nonsense before the group of boys around Thom parted. Wren watched as Thom’s skin slowly shifted from its beautiful shade of lilac to a darker lavender. Giggles began to echo through the Great Hall as Thom’s distress grew more and more apparent. Wren cast a quick look up at the professors' table. Professor Snape looked particularly unamused, but Dumbledore had a small quirk of his lips.
Wren took this as permission for herself to smile as Thom’s friends rushed a now violet Thom Spiro out of the hall and towards, undoubtedly, the Hospital Wing. Sensing this was as good a time as any to dismiss from lunch, the food vanished from the table, and the students began to file out. Wren picked up her bag, ready to go to Transfiguration and feeling particularly pleased with herself as all around her students whispered about that purple Ravenclaw!
"Fine work, Collings." Wren nearly jumped out of her skin, fumbling her books. She succeeded in catching them back onto her arms, but one slid out, bouncing against the ground in front of her. Before she could bend over to retrieve it, one of the twins scooped it up and placed it on top of his own, significantly shorter stack of books. If two books could be called a stack.
"What?" Wren asked, her head turning to each of the twins.
"I was wondering what you were up to in Herbology," Fred, the one who was not holding her book, remarked.
"Sorry, you've lost me." Wren shrugged and gave a jerky shake of her head.
Fred gave her a wolfish grin. "Have I?" He waved his wand, and the empty vial shot out of her bag and into his hand. Because of course he could do nonverbal spells already. He wiggled it in front of her, and Wren snatched at it, surprising herself by actually wrenching it from his hands.
Wren stuffed it back into her bag, glaring at him--although the fact that he was absolutely correct took all of the heat out of her look. "That's for potions."
"And apparently poisoning Ravenclaw dickheads," Fred remarked.
"I didn't poison him."
She did. Technically.
"I don't even understand why you think it was me." She succeeded in making her voice slightly more casual this time which did nothing but make the boys' smiles grow.
"It's not a suspicion," Fred dismissed. " I know it was you. Saw you in Herbology."
"There's a plant that does that?" George asked with widened eyes.
"Apparently the Venomous Tentacula," Fred said. "Sprout said it was a poisonous juice, but I never reckoned I'd actually see someone poisoned with it."
"Stop saying I poisoned him!" Wren hissed.
George's brow wrinkled. "Is there another word for it?"
"Empoisoned?" Fred suggested.
"Envenomed?"
"Would this count as drugging?"
Wren brushed past the twins, entering the Transfigurations classroom. They followed her in laughing.
Alicia looked up from where she and Angelina were gathered together giggling. "Wren!" she called, waving her over quickly. Wren approached, dropping her books off at her desk along the way and trying very hard to keep the smile off of her face, seeing Alicia positively beaming.
"Tell me you didn't miss it."
"Thom Spiro turning bright purple? How could I?"
"Merlin, it was glorious," Alicia exclaimed looking happily up at the ceiling as if attempting to thank Merlin himself up in heaven. When she looked back down, her eyes fell on the Weasley twins who had followed Wren over. "You two, you did this, didn't you?"
"Us? No," George shook his head.
"We'd never dope a student," Fred added, pausing for a second. "That's the word we're going with, right?"
George shook his head. "Doesn't seem quite right. I still think poison's the best fit."
Alicia's face creased in confusion, and perhaps if Wren hadn't seen fit to cast a dark look at the two, the other girls might have assumed they were lying.
"Wren Collings, what did you do?" Angelina asked, and Wren's face went slack with surprise. It was just her luck that Angelina, the one observant enough to have taught Wren and Alicia how to tell the twins apart, would have caught the look.
"Me?" Wren asked, perhaps too defensively because now Alicia's eyes were on her.
"Wren," Alicia looked at her wide-eyed. "Did you....?"
Wren made a sound of disbelief. "You think I poisoned a Ravenclaw student? I'm dating a prefect! A Ravenclaw one."
"You did!" Alicia gasped, grabbing Wren into a tight hug. "You're bloody brilliant. Honestly, Wren. I could kiss you."
"Doubt she'd let you," Fred quipped.
Alicia released Wren who stepped back, taking her book from George and hitting Fred with it. "So violent, Collings," he flinched away laughing. "They're going to lock you up in Azkaban. You maniac."
"So if he wasn't poisoned," Angelina said, "What exactly happened to him?"
All eyes fell on Wren. "He didn't wash his hands properly after handling the Venomous Tentacula juice in Herbology today. Or maybe the cork wasn't on right and some got on his skin," she shrugged. "Professor Snape said it happens every year."
Fred opened his mouth to remark but was cut off by Professor McGonagall walking in, signaling to the students to stop talking and find their seats. Her gaze fell on Fred.
“Mr. Weasley, as you are not taking this class, please find your way to the door.”
Fred gave McGonagall a salute, and turned to leave, making sure to gesture to Wren that he had his eyes on her before heading out of the room. Wren's cheeks tinged pink as she made her way to her desk.
The light poisoning might have been a mistake.
#fred weasley#fred weasley fic#fred weasley fanfiction#fred weasley x oc#fred weasley x f!oc#weasley twins#weasley twins fic#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter fic#harry potter book 4#harry potter and the goblet of fire#ocappreciation#the fool#oc: wren collings#oc: nora randolph#series: the fool
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a compilation | han
Pairing: Han x Reader
Genre: cup of angst, with a dash of fluff
Tags: blurbs, unrequitedlove, ANGsT, floof?
A/N: this is a compliation of han - related blurbs, undeveloped plots, and angst, plus a tiny bit of fluff
let me know if there are any you think I should continue with!
@bunnyhani happy late omg im so sorry birthday, luv!!! you actually make me smile so much, you are a highlight in my life and since none of the scenarios i was trying to make actually really seemed like enough, i just made a few, unfinished, unrelated blurbs, chats, random han related thoughts and compiled them for you ~
01. build me a bridge of rose petals
unrequitedlove!reader
“This isn’t something I can just get over,” I mumbled quietly into the phone. My best friend sighed in response, thoroughly annoyed with hearing of me and my failures at romance.
“Look, y/n,” she hummed, irritation sprayed heavily into her words. “Cry me a fucking river, build a bridge, and get your dumb, absolutely idiotic ass over it. He isn’t worth your time. You’ve been in love with the dick for - how long - like a decade now. And not once has he reciprocated your feelings.”
A sob built in my throat and I bit my lip to keep it from escaping. I’d yell back, if I had the energy. But I didn’t. And she was right, any who. I’d been hopelessly in love with the one, the only, Han Jisung for years, since middle school. And never once had he liked me back. We had been friends for all this time, yes, Jisung and I. We had even gone dancing together a few times.
“Stop dreaming, stop selling yourself short, stop rejecting all these other guys in the hopes he’ll magically like you back because you’re hurting yourself. I can’t stand seeing you like this any longer, y/n. I know I sound like an ass, but you deserve all the happiness in the world and I know you will never in a million years, find that with Jisung.
“Forget him, y/n. Forget him and be happy.”
“... okay,” was all I could manage. Because ultimately, she was right. I had been letting him get in the way of my happiness for far too long. “Talk later.”
And shutting off the phone, I tossed it across the room. Her voice echoed in my mind, “Forget him, y/n. Forget him and be happy.”
It wasn’t that easy, though, I thought to myself. He’s just always there. Han Jisung’s always on my mind. His smile. His voice. His eyes, lord, his eyes. The curve of his lips. The way he looked when he laughed.
A sudden bout of painful coughing rumbled deep through my diaphragm, wracking my whole body with violent bouts of wheezing until I was left gasping for breath. Something pink flew out of my mouth fluttered slowly to the ground. I brought my hand up to my lips to investigate and the sickeningly sweet smell of roses wafted through the room.
My finger tips fell away from my mouth wet. Covered in blood. Another cough shook my body.
Two more rose petals shot past my lips.
02. lotto winner
bestfriend!jisung
“My gosh, __,” Jisung whined, scrolling through his instagram feed for the third time that hour. “What are you doing, wrestling with the zipper? Why do you take so long?”
“Yah, Han Jisung! Trying on clothes isn’t as easy as you think, okay?” you shouted through the changing stall door, still trying to decide whether the outfit looked good on you or not. “Can you look at this outfit and tell me what you think? I don’t know if it fits my body right.”
“Fine,” your companion sighed. “Just hurry, up, okay?” Jisung stared wistfully out the window at the bright blue sky. It was really lovely this afternoon and he had to spend it with you, inside an expensive clothing store looking like it had just come out of tumblr’s aesthetic page, waiting for you to try on clothes.
Jisung subconsciously glanced down at his watch right as you hesitantly exited your changing stall. The edge of the baby blue cropped crew neck ended right above the waistband of the black corduroy skirt and the trim of your skirt fell right a good six inches above your knees. Cradling your arms to your chest, you shot your friend a nervous smile. Frilly and girly wasn’t your usual look, you would have rather worn a pair of boyfriend jeans and one of Jisung’s oversized sweaters.
“What do you think?”
“You look good, now let’s go,” he spoke and not bothering to spare a glance up, he shrugged. You noticed of course.
“Yah! Jisung, you idiot!” you yelled, picking up the closest pair of pants next to you and throwing them directly at the head of your best friend. “You’re supposed to actually look when I ask you to.”
Peeling the pants off his head, Jisung rolled his neck, now more irritated than he was 3 seconds ago. First you waste his time and now you throw a pair of pants at him. What the hell? When would the torture end? He sighed for the nth time that afternoon, gaze finally traveling over your figure. And all irritation drained out of him like it was nothing.
The second his eyes fell over your shy smile and flushed cheeks, all he could think of was damn. You looked good. The miniskirt complimented your curves and accentuated the length of your legs. Baby blue against black wouldn’t have been his first choice, but the innocent way you looked up at him erased all color complaints he had.
Whatever guy started ended up stealing your heart would be one damn lotto winner.
Coming back to himself, Jisung scoffed, immediately looking away from you. A pretty pink flush tickled the apples of his cheeks.
“W-what?” you stuttered, looking down at yourself nervously. “It doesn’t look good, does it? Oh my- I should have known better. It’s the color combination, right? I knew I should have picked pink or something-”
Jisung snorted, pushing himself up to flick you in the forehead. Stunned, the speech spilling from your tongue like word vomit halted and you looked at him.
“Oh my God, __. First things first, I didn’t need to look at you because I know you look fine in anything you pick. Secondly, now that I finally looked at you, I just realized that I shouldn’t have because now I’m disappointed. You don’t look as pretty as I was envisioning you.”
“Shut up, dumbass!” All prior unease forgotten, you smacked him in the shoulder. “Another comment like that and I won’t buy you food.”
“Okay, jeez,” he snickered, rubbing the spot you hit him. “You do look pretty, though.”
“Yeah, right.” You called, flouncing back into the changing stall with a pout. “You just want food.”
“Believe what you want to,” Jisung sang back, settling back down onto the couch outside the stall, all thoughts of you and just how good you looked erased. “I could always leave you here.”
Within seconds, you were out of the stall, completely changed and the slightest bit pink in the face. Jisung bit back a laugh. If there was anything you hated more than the thought of being with him (romantically), it was the thought of being without Jisung.
03. best friends v. break ups
text convo
j*s.~.ng: I've never felt more exhausted… j*s.~.ng: normally I wouldn't publicize this j*s.~.ng: but my heart hurts. So. Much j*s.~.ng: can I call you? j*s.~.ng: ahit nvm. j*s.~.ng: i forgot you're on a blind date…. j*s.~.ng: forget everything and ples enjoy :))) y/n: *5 seconds later* hey you okay? j*s.~.ng: all good ☺ y/n: don't hide behind emojis I know you better than that j*s.~.ng: but you're on a date j*s.~.ng: what are you doing texting me y/n: he kinda already left because you kept texting j*s.~.ng: shit. j*s.~.ng: I'm so sorry. y/n: don't be. He was a control freak j*s.~.ng: are you sure I'm not interrupting something? y/n: absolutely, chill j*s.~.ng: can...you pick me up? y/n: already in my car. Where you at?
04. silently
unrequited!reader
It was all too soon when I got that feeling again. You know… that feeling.
That feeling, the one you get where your heart, slowly breaking, drops without hesitation into the depths of your stomach and begins to churn, boiling up a brew with the irritating emotions called heartbreak, loneliness, and hurt. The stench of the horrific brew rises and rises and continues to rise in your stomach, building up pressure in your lungs and making it hard to breathe properly. It eventually makes its way to your eyes, odor building tears up… and then there’s really nothing you can do to keep them from falling.
You know… that feeling.
I’ve loved the same boy since I was eleven years old. For a portion, a small one mind you, of that time, I was told he liked me back. Of course, that was merely a miniscule section of that time, the rest of the time, we decided to grow up, only when I grew up, I was left with the same feelings I’d had for him all those years ago. It killed me.
And it was only natural that he wasn’t.
We’d both had a couple flings with other people tossed in there… but my mind was constantly on him and his... wasn’t. His eyes, his lips, his arms, his laugh, his smile. I loved him. And nothing was ever going to happen between us. Because of his lack of self confidence, he always looked for affirmation in month long relationships, only to break it off, then find someone else over the course of the next week.
Did it hurt? Yeah. Of course it hurt. Fuck, it burned like shit. But what could I do?
I’d talk it out with close friends, my mom. It wouldn’t solve anything though. I was still left with that same heartache, the same slow, numbing pain.
There were those instances I wouldn’t see him for a while and those overpowering feelings would subside into a a low, near non existent hum. It would be those periods of time that would hurt the most, yet also be the most peaceful. During those hours, days, weeks… I would find myself missing him, his hugs, his smile… but I would also find solace in those moments of not having to worry about him, how he was doing, what I’d wear when I saw him next...
But through all those times, through all those years… it had never hurt this much. He’d already had so many girlfriends before and his yearning, his unquenching desire for constant affirmation seemed never to be satisfied, so he dropped one and moved on again.
When he and I made eye contact from the ends of the hall ways, a bright smile overtook my lips like it always did. This time though, it wasn’t because he was wearing a pair of slim cut denim jeans with a white form-fitting button down and a black suit jacket and looking the most attractive I’d seen him in a while, it was because I had decided to finally come in terms with my feelings. I loved him and appreciated him as a person, a friend... and a boy.
He approached me with a playful smile, the brightness of his expression challenging the setting sun.
But was we made our way into the room, sat down beside each other like regular, and began to talk, the conversation took a turn, one that really wasn’t in favor of my mood.
He brought up his newest girlfriend.
It wasn’t like I was angry at him for having a girlfriend, I was just a good friend, nothing more than that to him. He wasn’t mine. He was his own person.
“So..” I hummed, trying to keep the conversation light, though really it’s not like anyone would have noticed my sudden shift in mood. I mean, we’re talking about me for goodness sake. I threw shade for fun and if I was hurt, it’d always be masked by my overpowering sarcasm. One sudden mood shift wouldn’t stand out, after all, I’d had enough practice hiding my true feelings from an unfortunate many times before. “She’s pretty?”
“Oh, exponentially more so,” he hummed, a radiant, beautiful smile decorating his lips as his mind drifted off once more to his gorgeous girlfriend. I never got that smile. That special, heart breaking smile was only reserved for the best, the prettiest and that was not me. “She’s... everything I didn’t realize I wanted in someone...”
He continued on, speaking of her eyes and how they glittered with this special something every time he saw her. Had my eyes ever looked like that to him?
He brought up her hair, how soft it felt when he ran his fingers through it, how it always seemed to fall perfectly. My hair... I reached up subconsciously to touch it. Was it soft? Did it ever look effortlessly beautiful like that?
His eyes glowed when he redirected his description of her to her smile. He said it was perfect, the way it shaped her eyes into pretty little crescent moons, and that when they were together, it seemed her lips were curved into nothing but. I frowned. He never noticed - wait no, of course he didn’t. Why would he notice my smile when his mind was solely on hers?
I brought my knees up to my chest, the familiar feeling of self pity slowly consuming me. I could no longer concentrate on trying to be a supportive friend while my heart was breaking like this.
I choked back a silent sob. He continued speaking, eyes glazed over in adoration of his girlfriend. My eyes burned, tears welling up at the corners. He chuckled, laughing about something she reminded him of. I reached up, wiping away my unshed tears. He smiled down at his fingers, moving them, savoring the feeling of the ghosts of her fingertips.
He didn’t notice anything. He never did.
A sad, somewhat pessimistic thought entered my mind. Was it because I wasn’t pretty? Would he notice the more minuscule things about me if I was pretty? Would he ask if I was okay if I was pretty?
Would I mean anything more to him... if I was pretty?
Forcing down my tears, I sighed, smacking a easy-going smile back onto my lips. Who cared if it looked fake. It’s not like he would have noticed anyways.
05. you, me, & the moonlight
roommate!au
“Hey...” I hummed, looking up briefly from my computer screen to Han Jisung, my best guy friend, roommate, and unbelievably cliche forever crush. The dim light from the yellow street lights outside mixed together with the lazy, past 10 pm atmosphere in the room. My feet lay on his lap, his laptop perched on my shins. At the sound of his name, he turned to meet my gaze, the slight dimple in his cheek sending my heart into an unauthorized gymnastics routine. He dislodged one earbud from his ear.
“Yeah?”
“What on your schedule tomorrow?” My eyes dropped down to the half-written essay on my laptop screen to avoid a blush from appearing on my cheeks. “I wanna do something.”
He yawned, stretching his arms above his head, t-shirt riding up on his stomach to reveal a sliver of the smooth planes of his taut muscles. Dammit, Han Jisung, cover yourself better.
“Hmm… There’s a morning practice tomorrow from 5:15 to 7, and then I have classes from 8 to 12. Afternoon practice is 2 to 3:30… I also have a study session later tomorrow, like around 4-ish, but it shouldn’t last longer than a couple hours. So we can either do something during lunch or pull an all-nighter doing whatever. Your choice.” He shut his laptop and placed it on the coffee table, the kitchen lights making his chlorine-bleached hair glow golden.
“Well tomorrow’s Friday. I’m most likely going to be asleep during lunch, and I don’t have anything on Saturday until after lunch so I’m game for the all-nighter.” I shut my laptop and placed it on the coffee table as well, rearranging myself so that my head rested on his shoulder. “But if you have morning practice, you should probably go to sleep soon.”
“Alright mom, geez.”
He scoffed in faux offense, laying his head atop mine on instinct.
And, the mere movement sent my heart beating about fifteen times faster than it was supposed to be.
06. your sensitive side
idolfriend!jisung
“Why are you sitting so far away?” Jisung stared at me, a confused look on his angelic features. For once, I wasn’t cuddled into his side. For once, I decided to sit on the very opposite side of the couch, curled up with my favorite penguin plush, Snoogly Woogly. A childish frown marred my usually gentle features.
“Why does it matter?” I spat out, clutching Snoogly Woogly tighter.
“Because you’re obviously bothered and in need of a hug,” he said quite matter-of-factly. I buried my face in Snoogly Woogly and groaned loudly, trying to smother the butterflies in my stomach with annoyance. He just smiled, put down his pineapple pizza and crawled over to my side of the couch. Soon enough, Snoogly Woogly was pulled out of my arms and her plush body was replaced with his firm, warm one. He picked me up, cradling me on his lap.
“Hey!!! You’re on my side of the couch, you big dumb dumb!” Instinctively, my arms wound around his lithe, idol body. I could feel him smile into my shoulder as he hugged me closer til we were pressed flush against each other.
“Oh please. If only you could feel how tight you’re hugging me right now.”
“Only because I don’t want to fall, you fucking sequoia tree!” I growled into his chest. “You’re still on my side, though.”
“Fine.” With that, Jisung picked me up as he stood and walked back to his side of the couch. Sitting back down, with me on his lap, he gave me a pointed look. “Is this better?”
A blush raged across my face. Why did he have to be so… obnoxiously strong and sensitive? I had been living with him for how long and still haven’t found enough flaws to stop liking him.
The night went on. We had just finished our third movie, second box of fried chicken and first box of pizza, and he still hadn’t let go of me. Then again, he was asleep now and he usually went to hug things in his sleep. Pushing off his drowsy form carefully, I peered at the clock on the microwave. 2:54 am.
Slipping out of his loosening grasp, I cleaned the coffee table off. Out went the trash, into the fridge went the pizza. Approaching the couch once more, the cracks of my broken heart softened as my eyes ran over his sleeping figure. I pulled off his glasses gently and set them down by the charging ports in the dining room. He shifted in his sleep, better revealing his soft features.
My hand stretched forward subconsciously to brush the hair from out of his face but I stopped myself. No... I shouldn’t. I turned to head back into the kitchen. Where the fuck was the melatonin..? But as if the whole universe was pitted against me, one of the legs on the coffee table somehow magically placed itself inconveniently in front of my foot.
Before I could stop myself, a whisper-shouted fuck surged past my lips. At the sound of my profanity, his eyes cracked open.
“Hey… shouldn’t you be sleeping?” Though his words were mumbled almost incoherently, his deep brown eyes gazed up at me, awaiting an answer.
“Oh- well yea-” before I could finish my sentence, he reached forward and placed a finger to my lips. Once that effectively silenced me, he sat up and wrapped his arms around my smaller body for the second time tonight, pulling me to the relaxed pace of his heart. For a moment, I lay there stiffly. Though this was no new position to me, my mind raced with doubts. The recent pain in my chest was getting worse, making it harder to think, function, and act normal around him. What had I let myself get pulled into? More importantly, what had I let my heart get roped into all those years ago?
As if sensing my unease, he cracked one eye open, ran a hand through my semi-tangled tresses and rested his lips against my forehead.
“Then sleep.”
07. even death would be kinder
arrangedmarriage!au
“Oh __, my darling girl, how you’ve grown!” I grinned weakly, doing my best to enthusiastically return Mrs. Han’s hug. The woman was like my second mother. I had known her since I was in primary school and I absolutely adored her. Her son on the other hand…
“Han Jisung, come here and say hello!” Mrs. Han called out to her son. I steeled myself for the shock of seeing how the now unfamiliar young man approaching us had changed.
“Hi, __.”
The first thing that came to my mind was ‘hot DANG. his voice got deeper.’
Seulgi bowed quickly before shooting me an apprehensive look and taking her leave.
Taking a deep breath and a quick mental check, I looked up and extended my hand out to shake his hand in greeting. Upon looking up though, I could feel my hand fall slack in disbelief.
The young awkward boy I had fallen in and out if love with during my teen years had now been replaced with a suave, smooth young man. His smile came easily, lips stretched to reveal his bright teeth. His chubby, babyish face had slimmed down significantly over the years. His chiseled jawline and crescent eyes accommodated the handsome face he now sported well. But his eyes… the playful, mischievous brown eyes of his had not changed at all in the years that had passed.
Shaking myself out of my thoughts, I quickly shook his hand, slapping a professional smile on my mouth.
“Pleasure to see you again, Mr. Han. It's been too long.”
His smile faltered and the happy curve if his beautiful eyes vanished. Nonetheless, he shook my hand firmly and nodded, the smile, albeit a tad uncomfortable, still remaining.
“It has.”
Quickly releasing his hand, I stepped back. An uncomfortable silence shrouded us until Mrs. Han cleared her throat.
“Why the long faces, you two? You were the best of friends years ago,” turning to her son, she reached up to pinch his cheek. “Why, I recall you telling me she was the only girl you could be completely comfortable around.”
The handsome male across from me stiffened.
“That’s because she’s like a sister to me mom,” he said, smiling thinly. I pursed my lips, clutching the clipboard in my hands a tad bit tighter. Yes. That was all I was. Nothing but a ‘sister’.
“Oh pish posh,” Mrs. Han scoffed, waving her hand through the air as if it were nothing. “You’re acting as if she’s nothing but a stranger right now.”
Jisung rolled his eyes.
“Mother, we haven’t seen each other in ages.”
“Ages, my foot.” She slapped her son’s arm. “Now you two, stop acting like children. It’s time we had lunch.”
08. how much you care
domesticfriendship!au
“Guess what today is?” I asked, bouncing on the tip of my toes. Literally. Because I was wearing high heels. And one does not simply bounce on their whole feet with high heels.
“Your birthday,” Jisung spoke, returning my smile with an equally casual one.
“Yeup!” He had remembered! Excitement hung around me as I hummed giddly in response. I had finally gotten my feelings in order and realized how much he meant to me. It wasn't just my birthday. Perhaps now maybe I could mean something more to someone.
The lesson went by quickly and before I knew it, so had the majority of the night. Soon enough, it was just the two of us left in the room. While half of me knew he would soon be walking out of those doors like the rest of the students, half of me prayed desperately for him to stay.
“Can I show you something?” He asked suddenly, gesturing to the computer. Giving my consent, he searched and pulled a video up. And for the next minute and a half, I watched flashes of meme-filled images singing a horrid, remixed happy birthday song.
“Wow,” I chuckled in disbelief. His boyish laugh sounded in harmony. “I don't know what I expected but that definitely wasn't it.”
“Well I mean, I'm broke so I couldn't have got you anything,” he snorted incredulously.
“That's is true.”
I took a good long moment to appreciate his features. His smile. He was extremely attractive and I knew that. I knew that from the moment I first saw him in 4th grade. But did I ever do anything about it? No.
All of a sudden, I didn't know what to say. Conversations had never been awkward between us but for some reason, at this moment in time, my heart began to beat faster, my cheeks began to color. A feeling of dread filled my stomach. Oh no. Was I... falling for one of my close male friends??
Before the moment could get any more awkward, the sound of a vibration alerted the both of us to his phone and, pulling it out, the smile dropped from his face. An apologetic smile covered his lips and he pocketed the device once more.
“Aight, my dad is here,” Jisung sighed, gesturing to the door. “I gotta head out.”
Disappointment coiled in my stomach when he turned towards the door, exiting without a second glance. I stood there, staring at his receding figure, confused at why I was feeling the way I was. I didn’t know what I had been hoping for, but it certainly wasn’t for him to leave like that.
Something in my body pulled me forwards, nearly tripping me over my own feet as I chased after him.
“Wait! Jisung!” I called breathlessly from the doorway. “No birthday hug or anything?? I’m offended.”
The boy turned, teasing smile playing at his lips. He paused in his step, rolling his eyes. The boyish quirk in his smile sent my heart hurtling over the edge into the chasm of having a crush at what seemed like a thousand miles per hour.
“Fine,” he spoke, grin more than obvious in his voice. He continued towards me, hands shoved sheepishly into his hoodie pocket.
“No, nevermind,” I scoffed playfully, turned back around, crossing my arms in faux offense. “I don’t need your hugs. Even though it is my birthday.”
“Come on, y/n,” Jisung hummed, his soft, velvety voice sounding right by my ear. “Don’t be like that.”
All of a sudden, a pair of warm, strong, lithe, familiar arms snuck around my waist pulling me firmly against the built frame of my best friend. The scent of his fabric softener and body wash overwhelmed my senses until all I could feel was him and home. He bent down, resting his cheek against the top of my head.
A fiery blush burned over my cheeks.
“Jisung-” I whispered, turning around in his arms. But that was all I could say before he pulled me into his chest once more, cradling my head into his comforting body heat. The sound of his melodic, hypnotizing heartbeat flowed through my ears, falling into a comfortable pace with mine.
“Happy birthday, y/n.”
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[RF/TH]Personal project turned into a (long-ish) short story
Hello fellow readers and redditors! I have always wanted to write a book for myself as a personal "goal". I started writing my story a couple of days ago ended up going down a tangent and ended up creating an alternate ending. So then I cut some stuff, moved things around, reformatted it and bam, made a short story. It is a bit longer than some of the other submissions ive seen (roughly 10-15 mins). Also The plot is a bit all over since it was orignally written for the book and VERY little editing has been done. Please excuse the useless background information, any redundancy and possibly some minor gramatical errors. Regardless, hope you enjoy the read!
As a weary Thursday night grew to a close, Alex Everson stood in front of the old electric stove, waiting as he stirred the pasta for his dinner in the saucepan full of boiling water. Alex lived a fairly quaint life, he didn't have the time or opportunity to invest in a permanent place, furniture, or nice cars, mostly because he frequently moved because of work. This didn't bother Alex because as far back as he could remember, his family always had to move around the country due to his father's job. Alex's father worked for infrastructure all over the country and would have to move around for his work. His father worked long, grueling hours for poor pay, but it was enough for his family to get by. When Alex was born, his parents decided that it would be better for the family to be moving and together, rather than Alex and his mother be settled but split from his father. Alex could not believe how much his parents had given up just so he could experience a somewhat normal childhood. He could experience having both of his parents, rather than having just his mother and rarely interacting with his father. Alex truly loved his parents, in fact, before his mother died due to illness, him and his parents were extremely close. Alex remembered fond memories with his parents as they traveled around the country, experiencing different towns and cities the country had to offer. Sadly, since the death of his mother four years ago, his father had become distant with reality. This made it extremely difficult for Alex to contact his father even through phone. Hearing about the death of his mother was also a major shock to Alex, he was in college at the time for business marketing and hearing this news caused his academic performance to take a complete down-turn. Alex still graduated with his degree, but had failed to keep up with the requirements for his internship, which would have led to a position in national marketing for the top tech company in the United States.
Alex still did managed to do well for himself. He currently worked for a smaller industrial company as a member of the marketing board for their northwestern division. Although this seems like a fairly high-end job, it wasn't as big as it sounds. He only conducted marketing in a small division consisting of a few regions with his other board members. While the national market directors made the big money since they work within the entire country and give advice to guide the smaller boards. Alex made comfortable money, around 70k a year, sometimes closer to 80k if his boss wasn't an ass and gave him the bonuses that was supposed be awarded to him. Although his job involved lots of moving around, he was comfortable with his job. Since he grew up moving all the time, having to create a life, make new friends, and then leaving and starting over had become normal to him. This made him accustomed to moving on and creating new opportunities in new places of the country. Because of this, Alex always tried to rent his place and had a simpler lifestyle to accommodated for the need to pick up and move at a moments notice. As Alex finished stirring the pot of pasta, he slowly drained off the hot water, then added salt and the tomato sauce he warmed up in the microwave to the spaghetti. Normally, Alex would have put a bit more effort into his dinner, but today had been rather difficult at work because of an upcoming project. He wanted to make something simple since it would be easier than going through the trouble of making his normal cuisine.
As Alex finished putting his dinner together, he turned to walk into the living room. Alex had a house that was on the smaller side, one floor with the kitchen and living room separated by a counter, which had a gap so you could pass into the other room. There was a quick transition from carpet to tile to let you know which room you are currently in, or would be entering. Taking a right before you past the counter led down a hallway where there were three rooms, one of which was the main bedroom, then the laundry room, and finally an extra room that Alex used to store his extra stuff like his dumbbells, suitcases and some other odds-and-ends. Alex used to work-out frequently in college, for his 20th birthday his parents bought him a personal set of dumbbells to use. He held onto them because this was the last gift he got before his mother passed away. occasionally he used them just to maintain his shape he got while in college. Alex plopped down onto the edge of the old off brown couch as he dove into his dinner. It was already 8:10pm, so Alex turned on his favorite show, the 8 o'clock news. Nothing interesting usually happened in town, the news was local and most of it consisted of school activities or events that were going on in the community. A community picnic had been scheduled for this coming weekend, but was rescheduled due to the weather predictions calling for heavy thunderstorms. This combined with the drowning patter of the rain outside and the occasional crack of thunder, Alex knew there was no sign of the rain quitting soon, the event would have to be rescheduled.
As Alex sat there, hypnotically twirling his fork, feeding himself spaghetti with his eyes glazed over while he watched the news and listened to the rhythmic hum of the rain outside, he was suddenly startled by a familiar chime. Alex shook his head while coming back to the present, realizing he was still on his couch. It took him a second to notice that the sudden, familiar sound had filled the room. Alex quickly stood up and started searching in-between the couch cushions, followed by searching under the couch for his phone, only to realize that it was in his pocket. He glanced down at his phone as he removed it from his pocket and immediately noticed the familiar name on his screen, "Jake". Alex wondered what Jake needed at this time of night, it was almost 9:00pm now and was preparing to settle in for the night. He slid his finger along the bottom of the screen then placed the phone against his cheek, *"Hello"* muttered Alex. He could tell this was not going to be good news when Jake took a second to respond with a prolonged *"Heyyyy, Alex."*. Jake had been Alex's roommate in college during the junior and senior year. Jake also majored in business and after Alex lost his opportunity with the tech giant, he got and offer from the industrial company, later finding out Jake had interned with them and had gotten a job with them when he graduated. "*What do you need now*" quipped Alex, knowing this was how Jake asked for favors. Jake took a second to respond before he audibly exhaled, then spoke with a hesitant tone. "*Do you remember that pitch due next Friday for boss.*". "*Dont you dare tell me you havent finished that!*" interrupted Alex.
Alex knew from the following silence that this was exactly what happened, Jake forgot about his half of the project. He knew that Jake was unreliable. He learned this from the amount of times he had to help Jake with assignments during college, but he would never believed that something this important would be neglected. This marketing pitch meant everything to Alex. His entire potential future rested on this opportunity and a good pitch usually equaled a raise. Alex was also looking down the barrel of a possible promotion, and this upcoming pitch could catapult him into a better position. The promotion would allow him to stop and settle even though he was still young. Alex could finally take a break from the constant traveling and find a nice place to call his own, not to mention he could finally get back into the dating scene and find a girl that he could spend time with since he had been single for the past two years. Alex listened closely to the next words Jake would mumble, cause he knew they were going to be complete bullshit. *"It's almost done, I just need a few...uhhh... details, yes! Details, thats all."* Alex was angry but not surprised as Jake responded using such a cliche and fake answer. He had almost expected Jake to blow off his part of the pitch and ask for help. Alex was hesitant to respond. Part of him wanted to deny Jake's request so Jake would butcher his part of the pitch, but this opportunity meant to much for Alex's future for him to do that. *"Fine, I'll help you, but only because this is for MY benefit"*, Alex hissed with a bit of anger. Alex didn't mean to sound so angry, he was exhausted from work and angry at the fact that he was now basically doing the entire pitch and Jake was just riding on his coat-tails. He really liked being friends with Jake though, even though he could be thoughtless and unreliable at times. Alex then had to listen to Jake thanking him insistently for what seems like 10 minutes, until Alex said he was going to head over now to help, then hung up his phone. Alex stood up, turned off the T.V, grabbed his empty pasta bowl, walked into the kitchen, put the empty bowl into the sink, then walked towards the side door to grab his raincoat and keys. As he zipped up his rain-coat and pocketed his keys, Alex expected this was going to be a *LONG* night. With that final thought, Alex walked out the door, closed it and turned the lock, then proceeded to his car parked in the driveway. As Alex approached his car, his could hear his boots sloshing in the puddles of rainwater in his driveway. Alex was grateful he had bought a good pair of boots, otherwise his feet would have been completely soaked. It had been borderline monsoon the entire week and being outside for more than a minute without proper clothing would leave you drenched from head to toe. Alex unlocked the doors and entered, getting in quickly to prevent the rainfall from soaking the interior of his car. With the key turning in the ignition, the engine of his 2013 Nissan Versa turned over. Alex threw in into drive and pulled out of his driveway. His next stop, Jake's house.
Jake and Alex live close by each other. they could make it to the others place in just under ten minutes, but since it was a full downpour, Alex had to drive much safer and expected his ride to be closer to half an hour. Alex tried to pass the time by finding some music on the radio, but as he flicked through the stations, he was welcomed only by static. He knew he was going to be in for a long drive. Alex sat trapped in the still, quiet aura that filled his car, mesmerized by the perfectly timed back-and-forth of the windshield wipers as they swished in perfect rhythm. He watched as the vision of the road became clearly visible, then quickly faded, becoming one continuous blur, until the next pass of the wipers repeated this cycle. His mind became completely focused on the road, only briefly noticing blurry brown lines evenly spaced in his vision as he drove down the two-lane highway. After driving for what felt like an eternity, rain still pouring with the same ferocity as before, Alex's focus was pulled off the road when he noticed a small yellow blur. This blur became more and more visible as it became larger on his windshield as he drove down the road and closer to the source of this light. After the next pass of his wipers, he noticed it was the hazard lights of what seemed to be a heavily contorted vehicle, completely bent in all different directions and angles after it had collided head-on into a power-pole. At the sight of this horrendous accident, Alex slammed on the brakes, his Versa screeching as the tires hydroplaned for a few yards before finally gaining grip and halting the vehicle's movement to a stop. Alex jumped out of his car so fast, he felt like he ripped the door off the hinge. The horrible sight that he saw before him left him in udder shock and disbelief. He could not believe how misshapen and shredded apart the car had been. Alex started to believe the worst, he knew that surviving an accident like this was not going to be likely. Alex started to have flashbacks to the night he almost perished, but he knew he needed to stay focused and search for the driver and potential passengers. After Alex had his near death experience, the immense pain he suffered and realizing that he would likely *die* there, laying on the cold concrete, was not an experience he would wish upon any other person. Alex *knew* that if he could prevent the deaths of the victims of this crash, he would try his hardest.
After Alex called 911, he started to search around the pile of mangled metal in order to see if he could find out exactly where the driver seat had disappeared too. After a quick, frantic search, Alex finally managed to find the steering wheel and the driver seat. He had found the driver, a woman, no older than probably her early to mid twenties, was laying unconscious between the driver and passenger seats. There were many small noticeable cuts and blood stains scattered along her clothes. Her face and arms were also badly cut and bruised. Alex tried to drag the unconscious girl out of the metal labyrinth, but it was to no avail. The dashboard had collapsed in during the wreck and was pinning her legs down against the driver seat, preventing Alex from getting her out. He knew he couldn't give up, he had to try within all of his strength and willpower to save this girl from her inevitable death. Alex sprinted back across the road to his car, opening the trunk looking for *anything* he could use to unpin the girls legs. Luckily, Alex remembered he had a car servicing kit in his trunk. After searching the kit, Alex rushed back across the road with a crowbar in his hands. He returned to the unconscious girl and slipped the crowbar in between the driver seat and dashboard, hoping to create enough of a gap to free the girls legs. After exerting all of his might on the crowbar, Alex had not even moved the vice around her legs one bit. Alex took one last look at the girl as he saw her life fade from her body. As he witnessed this, he tried his hardest to revive the girl but it was to no avail. His mind, his resolve was now broken, grief and sorrow flushed over his entire body. Alex *was* broken, he wanted to prevent the death of such a lovely young woman who had her entire life ahead of her. She was now taken away from her family and the world in such a cruel manner. Alex now wished he would have died that night so he would never have had to experience seeing the life fade from a person. he slowly shuffled lifelessly back across the road and back over to his car, sobbing uncontrollably, as he entered his car, he retrieved a small, heavy device from his glove compartment. It was his handgun. Alex began praying that the girl he was unable to save would forgive him and asks that his family would forgive him for being so selfish. He then remembered how he was on his way to help Jake and how now he would leave Jake helpless, but he believed in Jake. Alex knew Jake was a good guy when it came down to the wire. Alex then rested the gun's barrel against his temple and tightened his grip. A sudden flash and a sharp crack filled the air. Alex's imagination became brightly vivid, his memories of his family, his best friend Jake, and the poor girl he was unable to save filled his mind, but just as quickly and brightly these images appeared, they disappeared just as fast, quickly fading into a darkness that descended upon his mind.
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Photo
Chapter Reveal
Title: Twenty-Two
Series: Nashville Assassins 11.5
Genre: Sports Romance - Hockey
Author: Toni Aleo
Publication Date: May 22, 2017
Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/34818243-twenty-two
#ChapterReveal #TwentyTwo #ToniAleo #ComingSoon #Assassins
Synopsis:
When Lucas Brooks was traded to the Nashville Assassins over a decade ago, he was a brash, brawling hothead without an anchor. Well, four kids and a smokin' hot wife will weigh you down real fast, but Lucas wouldn't change a minute of his happily ever after. During an epic, end-of-season quest for the Cup, changes appear on the horizon, and suddenly, there's a plot twist in Lucas's fairy tale.
Pre-order exclusively via iBooks: hyperurl.co/6yzzl5
Chapter 1
The Brooks Family
“I want to watch SpongeBob!”
“No! Ariel!”
“Yeah! Mermaid! I wanna watch Ariel!”
Lucas Brooks covered his face with his hands before he yelled from his bedroom, “There are nine TVs in this house! Separate!”
“But she has the popcorn!”
“And he has the milk!”
“Daddy, I want to be with Asher!”
“Why are they eating popcorn at seven a.m.?”
Groaning, he looked over at his wife, who was cuddled deep into the bed, her dark brown hair covering her face as her thick, plump lips pursed out toward him. He almost leaned over and kissed her, but he was exhausted. “I don’t know. Where is Aiden?”
“I don’t know.”
“What’s the point of having an older kid if he isn’t going to care for the crazy little ones?”
“I don’t think that’s why we had them so far apart.”
Lucas scoffed. “Says you.”
Fallon giggled as she scooted over toward him, cuddling into his shoulder. Both of them knew the real reason for the big age gap between their children, though they never talked about it anymore. In their eyes, they did this on purpose and, really, it didn’t matter because they were happy.
“Mom! Asher won’t give me some milk!”
“Stella backwashes!”
“Mommy! I’m thirsty! Can I have some sweet tea?”
“Daddy, I want tea!”
“What in the hell?” Lucas muttered, staring at the ceiling as Fallon continued to giggle.
“Why are they up so early? The game was late.”
“Who knows? I’m exhausted.”
“So am I,” Lucas groaned, and he was. He felt the pain all over his body from the big win over St. Louis that advanced the Assassins to the second round. His whole body was aching. He wasn’t like his young self that bounced back after a hard-fought game. No, Lucas Brooks needed a good week after a game like the one the night before. It had gone into overtime, and the Blues had been playing desperate hockey. But by the grace of God, Jensen Monroe didn’t let any in, and Vaughn Johansson scored the winning goal. Vaughn had wanted to make his night even better since he had just proposed to his girlfriend and found out she was pregnant. So last night’s win was a biggie for everyone. Though, Lucas wished he had a solid month to recuperate before the next one. But he didn’t. He only had a few days of rest before the second round started.
“But, really, where is Aiden?”
“I have no clue.”
“Text him.”
“That means I have to move,” he complained, and she rolled her eyes before throwing her arm behind her to find her phone. Bringing it to her face, she dialed their son’s number, putting the call on speaker.
“Hello?”
Lucas closed his eyes. Aiden’s manly voice still was like a punch to the gut. His baby was growing, fast, and it was killing him slowly. “Baby, where are you?”
Aiden let out an exasperated breath. “Out front, where I always am. Where are you?”
Fallon looked to Lucas as he looked back at her. “Excuse me?”
“Oh my God, Mom, did you forget I had training for summer league this morning?”
Throwing the blankets off, she sat up. “Not at all. I’m running late.”
“You forgot!”
Lucas laughed as Fallon shot daggers from her eyes. “I did not! I’m coming.”
“If you would let me drive, this wouldn’t be a problem,” Aiden reminded her.
“If you cut your hair, maybe we’d buy you a car,” Lucas called out, and Aiden laughed.
“You’re just jealous I have hair!”
“Hush it, both of you. I’m coming,” she said, hanging up the phone and throwing on some sweat pants. “I can’t believe I forgot.”
“I can’t believe he went after not getting home until midnight last night.” She shot Lucas a deadpan expression. “Okay, I can. I would have.”
“Exactly. He’s his daddy’s son.”
Lucas grinned. “He is.” Then he glared, running his hands along his thinning hair. “I have good hair, right?”
She laughed. “Yes, baby, lots of great hair.”
“He has more.”
“He’s going through puberty.”
He raised a brow. “I think he’s past that.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know if we can wait till his birthday to give him a car, Lucas,” she said, pulling her hair up as she glanced back at him.
“That’s all you, babe. I told you to give him mine, and I’ll go get a new truck.”
“He wants a sports car.”
“And I don’t give two fucks. That kid isn’t going to be driving a better car than what I had. He can have a nice Ford and be happy, or he can walk—if his momma would let him.”
“What does that mean?”
“You’re overprotective as hell.”
“I am not.”
“You are.”
She glared. “But he is a good kid, Lucas.”
“The best, and he’ll be happy with my Ford.”
“Ugh, okay,” she groaned before leaning down and kissing his lips. He savored her for a moment, grabbing her butt.
“Can we make him wait a bit longer to be picked up?”
She chuckled, desire flashing in her eyes. “I doubt you can move.”
He looked sad. “I can’t.”
She laughed as she kissed him again. “Can we give the car to him today?”
“Tomorrow.”
Her brows rose. “Why tomorrow?”
“Because I can’t move, and I have to go buy a new car for me.”
She laughed, smacking his chest, which made him wince. “I’ll be back.”
“Be careful,” he called as she headed out of the room just as Emery ran right into her.
Picking up their youngest, Fallon kissed her loudly on the lips.
“Be good.”
“Me?” Emery asked.
“You.”
“Why?”
“Because you want cake at sissy’s birthday, don’t you?”
“Oh! I’ll be good!”
Fallon rolled her eyes, placing their daughter on her feet before waving back at Lucas.
Emery ran to him, jumping on the bed and breaking his bones further. He groaned out as Emery cuddled into him, and he closed his eyes. “Daddy.”
“Yes, love?”
“I love you.”
He smiled into her hair, kissing her temple as his arms came around her, holding her tight. He’d never known he could love any child as much as he loved Aiden. Lucas could still recall the first moment he saw his son. Outside of Fallon’s house, begging her for a chance to reconnect after seven years of separation, but then Aiden walked out, and Lucas knew. Aiden was his son, and boy, did he fall in love. Head over heels for the kid. Lucas never thought any kid could come close to his love for Aiden, but then Asher came.
His spunky, dry-humored little geek. The kid was always on his computer, always busy making something, and damn smart. Asher was great on the ice, though Lucas didn’t think he’d go far with it. He was too obsessed with computers and rebuilding them. His first love wasn’t the ice; it was making things tick. But Lucas was proud nonetheless, especially considering the fact that Aiden’s drive to make it to the NHL was enough for the whole family.
In all reality, Lucas had been set with two great boys. But then, by the grace of God, came Stella. His little diva. She looked just like Fallon, breathtakingly stunning with big brown eyes and thick brown hair. She had her momma’s looks, and God help him, her mouth too. Those two went at it daily, mostly about clothes and hair, but his little girl had his heart, and of course, he was wrapped around her finger.
That was it...until Emery came. She was a complete surprise, but in a way, she was the missing piece in their lives. Their family had been off-balance and needed her quirky little brand of badass. While Emery favored both Fallon and him physically, she had his demeanor with Fallon’s mouth. It was a bad combination because while she was ruining your life, she was making you feel right about it. Unlike her sister, Emery didn’t care about hair or clothes. She cared about being a fairy princess, which, for an almost four-year-old, he figured was logical.
But she was daddy’s princess.
Holding his sweet baby, he couldn’t help the grin on his lips, though he was aching in spots he hadn’t even thought he could ache. He had taken a hard hit into the boards, coming down and slamming his head on the ice. Thank God for a helmet because his brain would have been scrambled eggs if not. But he was feeling every bit of it now. Though, he couldn’t think of that. All he could think about was how much his life had changed. He used to be a lonely bachelor, living life in the fast lane and enjoying the NHL. But when he moved to Nashville, everything changed. Fallon happened. And now, Lucas couldn’t imagine his life without her and their kids. Between playing and being his kids’ biggest fan, he didn’t see any other point to life.
Oh, yeah, and loving Fallon.
But that came naturally.
That woman was his world.
Everything was great in the Brooks household. Now, if only his body could stop hurting and aching, things would be grand. Oh, and if his kids could stop growing. And he needed the Assassins to bring home the Cup.
Yup, then Lucas Brooks would be a happy man.
“I love you too, love bug.”
“Can I still have cake if I’m bad?”
“What did Momma say?”
She pouted. “Do you love cake, Daddy?”
“I do.”
“Me too.”
He smiled, kissing her head. “I know, love bug.”
“Can we watch Ariel?” She sat up, her eyes wide and gray like his. She had Fallon’s lips, though, and the shape of her face. Her hair was in pigtails with big pink bows in them that he was sure Stella had put in. “Please. You’re my favorite daddy.”
“I’m your only daddy.”
She nodded. “And my favorite.”
He smiled. “Do I have to move?”
She thought that over. “No.”
“Then, yes.”
***
Pulling up in front of Aiden’s private school, Fallon hit the brakes, slamming forward as she looked over to where Aiden was standing, shaking his head. Gone was her baby, replaced by a hormone-driven monster with long hair. Actually, he was the greatest kid in the world and she loved him more than anything, but God, she hated his hair. He looked like a damn fool, especially with that stupid man bun. But boy was he handsome. Just like his daddy, he had a strong bone structure, thick, dark brows, and dark gray eyes. He was beautiful, and if she didn’t know he was a good kid, she’d lock him up.
Opening the back, he threw in his bag. “Hey, Mom.”
“Hey, honey.”
“Hey, Aiden.”
Fallon about broke her neck trying to see who was calling her son’s name. She saw a pair of girls standing beside the stairs in what she felt were too short skirts. Sure, they were cheerleading skirts, but still. Fallon glared as Aiden turned, tipping his chin at them. “Hey.”
“Are you going to the dance on Friday?”
“Probably not, I’ve got a game.”
One of them puckered her lips. “Can’t you come after?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ll let you know. Have a good practice.”
“Okay, I’ll save you a dance.”
When he flashed her a grin, his dimples shining in all their precious glory, Fallon shook her head.
There was Lucas Brooks reincarnated.
“Cool. See ya.”
Closing the back, Aiden walked around, and she swore he had grown another inch or so.
Opening the door, he climbed in and looked over at her. “You know, being the oldest, I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to be forgotten. Emery is.”
Fallon glared. “Shut up. I’m exhausted. It was a late night. How did you even get here?”
“Brayden’s mom drove me, like you asked her to at practice.”
Fallon paused as she moved the shifter of her van into Drive. “I did, didn’t I?”
“You did,” he said dryly, throwing his legs up on the dash as he started to play on his phone.
“Hmm. Hey, at least I got that far,” she decided, hitting the gas.
“Thank God.”
“Practice was good?”
“Great. Coach is happy with me.”
“Good.”
“Heard Bellevue is looking at me.”
Fallon glanced over at him. “From whom?”
“Coach.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, he said I should talk to my counselor.”
“For what?”
“I have enough credits to graduate this summer and start over there if I wanted.”
Fallon’s heart stopped. “You just turned seventeen.”
“Yeah?”
“Do you want that?”
“Yeah,” he laughed, looking over at her. “Mom, I want to go to college so I can go into the draft. The Sinclair brothers all went to Bellevue. I need that exposure before I enter the draft.”
Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Too much. This was her baby. Her firstborn and he was ready to go.
He was itching for the NHL. He wanted to play like his father. He wanted to live his hockey dreams, and all she wanted was for him to go back to fighting hippogriffs. “Talk to your father about this. You’re making my head hurt.”
Aiden laughed. “Mom, I’m getting older. I’m practically a m—”
“Shut your dirty mouth, Aiden James Brooks.”
He laughed harder as she turned down the main road. “Where we going?”
“Audrey’s.”
“Why?”
“I gotta get some donuts she made for your father for winning last night, and then I gotta approve the cake she’s making for Stella’s birthday next weekend.”
“Do I have to go to that?”
She flashed him a dirty look. “You mean your sister’s birthday?”
“Yeah.”
“Of course you do. You’re the damn crab, Sebastian.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No,” she said simply. “I hope the costume fits.”
“Oh my God.”
“I even hired a photographer. So when you’re in the NHL and they need those pictures of you growing up, I’ll have that one.”
“You’re horrible.”
“I try.”
He scoffed, and she grinned over at him before pulling onto the road that held Audrey Jane’s. “So, who were those girls?”
“Addy and Melissa.”
“Your fans?”
“Everyone is my fan,” he said, waggling his eyebrows, and she laughed. “I’m practically a hockey-playing god, Mom.”
“All right, pump the brakes there, mister. You’re no Vaughn Johansson.”
Aiden laughed. “JoJo is amazing.”
“He is, but he’s cocky as all hell,” she said simply, pulling into Audrey Jane’s and
parking beside her baby sister’s car. Getting out, they went inside just as Fallon’s niece, Penelope, hollered out, “Welcome to Audrey Jane’s!”
Fallon beamed as Aiden ran after Penny, gobbling her up and tickling her before Audrey came out of the back, a grin on her face. “Hey.”
“Hey, you,” Fallon said, kissing the back of Penny’s head.
“You’re here early.”
“Yeah, I forgot to pick my kid up after practice, so here I am. Where is Philippe?”
“With Tate. He didn’t want to come in.”
Fallon nodded. “How’s Tate feeling?”
Audrey exhaled loudly since the subject of her husband, the Assassins’ starting goalie, Tate Odder, was a touchy one. He had a serious groin injury and had had surgery about two months ago, but he still wasn’t recuperating from it well. An infection had spread and knocked him down some more, long after the doctors had assumed he would be back on the ice. So it was easy to say the Odder family was very tense. “Lots of pain, but I guess he’s getting better. He doesn’t talk about it. He mainly asks me to make cupcakes. He’s pissed he missed last night.
Thank God Jensen did great.”
“Right?” Fallon agreed with a nod. “Well, hopefully, he’ll be up and at it soon.”
“I don’t know, Fal, I just don’t know.”
“What does that mean?” Aiden asked. “Uncle Tate’s okay, isn’t he?”
Audrey faked a grin. “Of course. Come here. You want a cupcake?”
Aiden laughed. “You know, I’m seventeen, you can’t distract me— Whoa, are those cookie dough?”
Audrey smiled happily at Fallon as she shook her head, and Aiden took the cupcake.
“Come on, I’ll show you the cake for Stella, and your donuts are right there.”
Aiden looked at the donuts. “Can I have one?”
“Save one for your dad.”
“Okay,” he said with a mouthful as she followed Audrey to the back.
“Kid has a tapeworm, I swear. He’s always eating.”
Audrey laughed. “He’s always been an eater. It’s not fair.”
“Agreed.”
As Fallon followed her into the kitchen, Audrey looked back at her sister. “I think he might have to retire.”
“Who? What? Tate?” Fallon’s eyes widened. “Never.”
“Yeah, he is grief-stricken about it and things are bad, but he can’t seem to get better. I don’t know. I told him he needs to decide.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah, it’s not good. We’re fighting a lot, and he’s withdrawn because he feels like a failure. Shit’s so bad, he started to go see Wren Lemiere, the team’s therapist.”
“Good for him,” Fallon said, exhaling hard. “I hate that for him, though.”
Audrey nodded as she turned on her computer. “Me too. At least you don’t have to worry about that. Lucas’s got at least nine more years in him.”
Fallon shot her sister a wry smile. “He creaks when he walks. I’m waiting for him to tell me he’s done.”
“He won’t.”
“I know, which makes me nervous.”
“Yeah, but you know, Lucas would be okay. Tate...he’s not, and I just want my happy husband back. I’m worried he won’t be happy without hockey.”
“No, he has you guys. He loves you three. So much.”
“I know he does, and he is the best father ever. Sucky in the husband department right now, but I get it. We’ll be okay.”
“You will,” she said, wrapping her arms around her sister. “Don’t worry.”
“Thanks.” Audrey hugged Fallon back as the computer came on. “Okay, so here it is. The best Ariel cake for my niece.”
Fallon grinned as she took in the perfect seven tiers of Ariel-themed cake. “She’ll flip her shit.”
“That’s my goal.”
“It’s perfect.”
“Awesome,” she said, shutting her computer lid. “I’ll be over next Saturday morning to set everything up.”
“Cool.” Fallon leaned her hip to the counter as she met her sister’s gaze. Audrey had changed so much over the years. She used to be obsessed with her weight. Now, she stayed healthy, even if she was rounder than she used to be. Kids would do that, though. One thing was for sure. Even with all the shit going on, Audrey had a grin on her face that Tate and the kids had put there. Her sister was complete, and like she’d said, she would be okay. Fallon just knew it.
But Fallon was pretty sure she was going to have her own mini heart attack. “Aiden told me his coach said he could probably graduate early and that Bellevue might want him.”
Audrey’s jaw dropped. “What?”
“Yeah.”
“What did you say?”
“For him to talk to his father!”
Audrey laughed. “Fallon.”
“What?”
“It would be great.”
“He’s a baby.”
“He’s seventeen. He’s a great kid. Smart and talented as hell.”
“Yeah, I don’t know. I don’t think I want him to do it.”
“If it’s going to be what’s best for his career, then he has to, you know?”
Biting her lip, Fallon nodded. “We’ll see what my husband says. If he can even move.”
Audrey smiled. “He’s sore today?”
“Yes, bless him. I don’t know if he’ll make through the whole series in one piece.”
“He is old now.”
“He isn’t a spring chicken, for sure.” Fallon grinned. “Except in the bedroom.”
“Ew!”
Fallow snorted as Audrey shook her head and then smiled. “I think they’re going to go the whole way. I feel it.”
Fallon nodded. “I do too. Rumor is, Elli was in the locker room crying last night. She’s so emotional.”
“Think she’s pregnant again?”
Fallon laughed. “Lord, I hope not!”
“Right? She’s already so damn busy.”
“I know.” Fallon shook her head. “Are you going to Lucy’s baby shower next Sunday?”
“Did you not check the group?”
Fallon just looked at her. “Obviously not, Audrey.”
“It’s been postponed until further notice.”
“Why?”
“Because of the play-offs.”
“That’s dumb. Why plan it around the play-offs, then?”
“I don’t have an answer for that, but they called me asking to hold off on the cake.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Which is good ’cause I can focus on Stella’s cake.”
“This is true. Ariel needs all your attention anyway.”
Audrey grinned as she leaned into her sister. “You know, you can come by more.”
“Same for you. Or come to the winery, and I’ll get you drunk.”
Audrey beamed. “That’s a plan.”
“Mom! Let’s go! Penny is going to make me fat.”
Penny’s giggles met them in the kitchen, and Fallon laughed. “Kid couldn’t get fat if he tried.”
“Right?” Audrey asked, shaking her head. “And what’s up with his hair?”
“I don’t know. I want to cut it, but he won’t let me.”
Audrey laughed as they went out of the kitchen to find Penny feeding Aiden cookie after cookie. “Mom,” he whined, and Fallon laughed.
“Hey, boogey butt—”
“Audrey!” Aiden complained, and they all laughed since he hated his nickname. “I told you about calling me that.”
She feigned hurt. “You are my baby, and I will call you that if I want. Even when you’re a big, hotshot hockey player, I’ll be in the stands hollering, ‘That’s my boogey butt!’”
“Mom,” he groaned, and Fallon just kept laughing.
“Anyway, if I throw gum in your hair, will you let me cut it?”
He glared. “Stay away from me.”
“It’s so long. And dirty,” Audrey said, coming toward him, and when Fallon saw the scissors in her hand, she tried to stifle her laughter.
“I washed it like ten minutes ago!” he said, slowly stepping back from his aunt.
“It’s ugly. Let me cut it.” She went for the bun, but he deked around her, running to Fallon and hiding behind her. Which was pointless since he was practically seven times her size.
“Leave me alone! Mom! Tell her to leave me alone.”
“We’re leaving.” Picking up the donuts...well, the three that were left, Fallon shook her head. “Bye, Penny loaf,” she called to Penelope.
“Bye, Auntie!”
“Bye,” Audrey sang. “I’ll get you later, Aiden James.”
Going outside, Aiden looked over at Fallon. “You won’t let her cut my hair, right?”
“I mean, if she gets to you before I do, I’m sorry for ya.”
“I look amazing!”
“You look like a damn fool,” she said, opening the door. “But I love you.”
He shot her an exasperated look. “Do I really have to be Sebastian next weekend?”
“No,” she laughed, shaking her head. “Asher is Sebastian. You’re Flounder.”
“Mom!”
With a grin on her lips, she got in the car.
But she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t worried about Aiden.
Or Tate.
Or even her dinosaur of a husband at home, who might or might not make it through the play-offs.
About the Author:
My name is Toni Aleo and I’m a total dork.
I am a wife, mother of two and a bulldog, and also a hopeless romantic.
I am the biggest Shea Weber fan ever, and can be found during hockey season with my nose pressed against the Bridgestone Arena’s glass, watching my Nashville Predators play!
When my nose isn’t pressed against the glass, I enjoy going to my husband and son’s hockey games, my daughter’s dance competition, hanging with my best friends, taking pictures, scrapbooking, and reading the latest romance novel.
I have a slight Disney and Harry Potter obsession, I love things that sparkle, I love the color pink, I might have been a Disney Princess in a past life… probably Belle.
… and did I mention I love hockey?
Author Links:
Twitter: https://twitter.com/ToniAleo1
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/tonialeo1
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/toni_aleo/
Web: http://tonialeo.com/
Goodreads Author Page: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5255580.Toni_Aleo
Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Toni-Aleo/e/B005SSZGTY
#chapter reveal#sports romance hockey#Toni Aleo#Nashville Assassins 11.5#Twenty-Two#Hosted by Ardent Prose PR
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