#mother does know that I write fanfiction since I have cleared that up for her

[rorimoon9597]

YOU GUYS, MY MUM WANTS TO READ MY JAYROY FANFICTION AND I'M TOO EMBARRASSED TO LET HER READ IT HELP

[eponastory]

Ah, Sarcastic Chorus...

Let's break down the 'I'm going to fix you' argument for Katara.

First off, no one can 'fix' anyone. Going into a relationship thinking you're going to change somebody and make them different is going to make that relationship bad. It's not necessarily toxic, but bad. Why? Because it's not your job to 'fix' the other person. The only one who can do that is the other person. You can only 'fix' yourself.

A lot of relationships fail because of these expectations.

I'm going to talk about fanfiction here for a moment since I've been writing a Zutara story. Since Zutara isn't Canon (but we really wish it was) and all, I only have what does happen in Canon and what happens in fanfiction tropes I see a lot.

In the show we get these wonderful little moments where Zuko and Katara are fighting each other (book one), and it sets a nice theme of opposites attract. The motifs are there with all the color symbolism... it's nice. That does immediately set our brains to 'oh they are so going to get together'. There are a lot of nuances to that, and it's lovely.

I'm not going to lie, Katara is in that group dynamic of 'The Heart' role, and yes, it does put a little pressure on her character to care for everyone. It's my least favorite role for a character and it's a bitch to write when you want that character to be independent.

Anyway, back to Katara. She's the mother figure, the caring and nurturing one that has to help everyone else sort out their problems while she has to internalize her own. It sucks. It really does. So when we get to TSR in Book 3 and she is practically berated by everyone for not acting like herself... she gets pissed, rightfully so because she had to help everyone else with their bullshit until Zuko finally joined. This is where Zuko becomes a foil for her.

Just to be clear, a foil is basically a character that encourages change to happen within a dynamic. It can be a group or a pairing. Usually, that character had opposite goals or a different personality. Zuko started out as the antagonist, but when he joined the Gaang, he's now a foil for the entire group.

Back to what I was saying... what was I saying? Oh yes!

So Katara is rightfully pissed because she needs to deal with her trauma when everyone is suddenly 'this isn't who you are'. No, this is exactly who she is. She is very much like her element. Water is fluid, it can be calm and it can be a torrent... which is exactly the way she is written. It's always been her, she just put everyone else's problems above her own. Now that she has to deal with her problems, it's chaotic for everyone else.

And yes, she does have survivors guilt.

That is her main problem, so now she has to deal with it. And Zuko gives her that chance.

This is getting pretty long, so I'll try to wrap everything up here.

Zuko doesn't need to be 'fixed' he's already done that himself by himself. Joining the Gaang was essentially a fresh start for him (I use that term lightly) which is why he is so awkward when he goes to talk to them at the Western Air Temple (or is it Eastern? I don't remember ahhhh. Fibro brain!) And it's so cute and I just want to hug him. I digress, but it's great.

He's got a shitty past, but he is trying to change himself even further by accepting responsibility for what he did to them individually. In Katara's case, he has to work hard for her. It's lovely, and the payoff is great. I know for sure that is what I see in their relationship. He cares so much about her that he works hard to win her trust again. Why? Because she showed him compassion in CoD, and that struck a chord in him. Her strength is her compassion when he was taught by his sociopathic narcissist father that emotions like that are a weakness.

That my dear Kat*angers is why we love this ship.

It's a beautiful dynamic between them that I would have loved to see Bryke explore, but they just gave us the most vanilla bland version of a romance they could find by pulling a D&B (Game of Thrones writers) and subverting expectations. It sucks.

TLDR version.

Katara doesn't have to fix Zuko.

[iwonderwh0]

Well, this is the first time I write openly, it’s unusual, but oh well, and yes, I decided to write here, it’s more familiar to me. I thought a little and realized that Emma’s problem with attachment/trust would be not only with androids, but also with people, Daniel was Emma’s best friend, and since her loved one could do such a terrible thing to her, then why not can't everyone do this? Therefore, at the moment, Emma does not have any very close close relationships, except with her mother, although Emma hates to admit it, but Daniel really left a big mark on her for the rest of her life.

Now about Daniel, I forgot about him while I was thinking about Emma’s headcanons, well, I’ll correct it now. This headcanon is more about what people will do to deviants who have harmed people, by this I don't mean self-defense, although we weren't shown that, but I don't believe that there aren't shitty androids who attacked and killed people for terrible reasons, like Daniel, so I thought there might be a help center in Detroit for rogue androids, where they would all stay away from humans, and perhaps be treated for their injuries, and of course, they would be treated by other androids. Honestly, I always wondered why in fanfiction Daniel can walk free, despite the fact that he killed John, polices, and held a child hostage? For this reason, I came up with a special center for androids like Daniel, and yes, as you understand … there Daniel does not respond very well to therapy

Also, I think that even though Daniel hates all people, for some reason I don’t think that he hates Emma, ​​even though she, in his opinion, “betrayed” him, although I think that over time, Daniel will understand that Emma is not guilty of anything, but Daniel will deny it, that he was wrong in something, because if he admits it, then a huge load of guilt will completely engulf him, and other dark thoughts … but I'm digressing, so let's get back to the topic, I think that he also will continue to love her and worry, in the end, he really loves her, and this love will not disappear with a snap of fingers (except for the incident on the roof), I think that Daniel will sit in the center, and think about her, and miss her (but of course not show this outwardly … probably), perhaps at some point Daniel will even ask someone how Emma is doing (he doesn’t ask about Caroline), but no one gave him a clear answer, because no one knows where the Phillips family went after that disaster, that's why Daniel continues to think about Emma the way she thinks about him

I think if he got reactivated he'd hate all humans INCLUDING Emma for a long while. Deep down he might know that he's wrong and Emma is not at all guilty, but this is the thought he'd much rather shut down and drown with anger rather than admit. Admitting it is something that'd come with consequences.

I have a headcanon about how he could possibly get reactivated and it had to do with underground android re-sellers, alike Zlatko but more with a focus on making money than some modifications and experimens. One of them just picked the broken androids that DPD discarded to trash. The one who fixed him (partially, some things like missing arm or broken face are there to stay) didn't know nor care about the history of his origin. He saw an android that he potentially could resell and that's all that mattered. (And yeah, even post revolution even if official sell/purchase of androids will become illegal, underground people will still actively sell non-deviant (or so they think) androids.

[harryissuchalittleshit]

What's your top 10 Harry Potter favorite characters?

Ginny Weasley - like this girl is so fucking badass! Her boyfriend breaks up with her so she dusts herself off and helps run an ARMY! She is the reason why Hogwarts had a resistance during the war! Then after the war she went on to be one of the best Quidditch players of the century!! Be still my beating heart this girl has it all, and on top of everything she had a severally traumatic experience at 11 and has only grown stronger and braver since!

Percy Weasley - the unsung hero of the Weasley family, and I know haters are going to hate, but this man would do anything for his family. He helped with autistic brother, he kept a steady hand in his ADHD brother, he helped teach his dyslexic brother how to read, and he will forever be the brother Ginny turns to for comfort. He sacrificed everything for the people he loves and it meant everything. (Also he is soooo tall and I find that super attractive)

Hermione Granger - at five years old I looked in the mirror with my two oversized front teeth and messy brown hair and thought that I was Hermione because everyone told me I was smart. I dressed up as her three times for Halloween in middle school. I consumed books and studied and just read because I wanted to be Hermione, and she is still and always will be a favorite of mine.

Harry Potter - without him we wouldn’t have the series, but I don’t care about that. Without Harry, I wouldn’t have a pedestal to place Ginny on (lol). I love Harry for his cool and calm demeanor with the perfect amount of sass and (un)observantness. He’s fun to write for and I love his voice and his sense of humor, and he’s never afraid to give some hard advice when needed.

Ron Weasley - do I love character development!!! Ron is such a fun character to write and read, he has so many thoughts and emotions that are fun to explore and I just always enjoy being in his head a little. I think he becomes a wonderful father and grandfather, and he’s the most well rounded individual of the trio.

Rose and Hugo Weasley - does this seem like cheating? Yes! Do I care?? Absolutely not!! I love these two because just like their parents, they have a very clear and well rounded voice and personality, I’ve written so much of them that I feel like we’re just having conversations most days. It’s fun and I love writing for them and giving them a voice they normally don’t get to have.

Draco and Astoria Malfoy - I love character development! I also wrote Draco a redemption arc where he’s a teacher’s aid to a group of preschoolers and he lives with Andromeda for a few years before her tragic death. I write him falling in love with the Muggle world and also Astoria. Speaking of which, Astoria is just a breath of fresh air to the normal Slytherin mentality and attitude. She’s so warm and giving and kind, she doesn’t hide behind walls of her own making, and she’s usually breaking down others. I love the pair of them together, and Scorpius grows up to have such a happy and stable life with them.

Scorpius Malfoy - he’s the perfect child to Astoria and Draco, he has some of Draco’s sass and stubbornness, but all of Astoria’s unyielding kindness and joy. He is such a sweet and good person who is ambitious in his personal and love life. He knows exactly how he wants his life to be and that means Rose Weasley was going to be his bride and mother to their children, and he gets it all at fifteen, a year sooner than he ever imagined.

James and Lily Potter - I was a Jily shipper before I knew what shipping was. I went seeking out jily stories for my first fanfiction experience and that’s led me down the rabbit hole I live in now. I love the voice of truth and honesty that Lily has, just like her son. And I love James serious dedication and overall hope that he also passes down to his son. Knowing James and Lily made me know Harry better, and the love they have is so powerful it’s managed to save the same life three times.

Angelina Johnson - like Ginny, Angelina is fucking badass! She fell in love with her husband at eleven and never felt her love for him waver. She played Quidditch so well that she was recruited for a starting position, but turned it down to go work in the spell damage ward at St. Mungo’s because saving lives means everything to her. She flew missions for the Order during the war and fought in the battle of Hogwarts without getting so much as a hair out of place. She then fell in love again with her husband as they both healed from their losses, she lost a baby and fought to not lose herself, and she almost died having her twins, but still she persisted. Ange is just amazing.

[an-aura-about-you]

i just saw your tags please tell me more about red white and royal blue

OKAY SO

Red White & Royal Blue is a queer romance novel by Casey McQuiston. It is the story of Alex, the 21 year old son of the President of the United States, and his enemies to lovers bromance turned romance with Prince Henry, the grandson of the current Queen of England.

And that bit of it is honestly mostly fine to me! I like that Alex is kind of a dumb boy baby bi who didn't realize the gay shit he got up to with his best friend was, indeed, gay shit. I like the part when Henry's older sister Bea tells Alex about how their father died when Henry was relatively young and how that grief just shoots down to the bottom of your soul, deeper than you thought yourself capable of feeling, and now when terrible things happen you automatically plummet to that same emotional low. I like the stuff going on with Rafael and how he was willing to tank his reputation in order to take down his potential abuser.

But hooooooooly shit the alternate reality this book exists in is so distracting.

First thing I should cover is that Alex's presidential parent is his mother Ellen Claremont, the first woman president elected in 2016.

Yes.

Claremont's reelection campaign in 2020 is a prominent part of the book, and Alex's secret romance with Henry is exposed by her Republican opponent via Alex and Henry's private emails.

*clicks tongue* Yeah.

Also, a lot of this does end up going down in 2019 and 2020, with not even a hint of pandemic, which, fair, I'll accept that. But it does feel really weird in the face of this other stuff.

And across the pond, Henry has to deal with his family finding out he's gay, specifically him coming out to his older brother Phillip and their grandmother Queen Mary. All of this feels so very weird to type out. The Queen and Phillip do not take it well at all, and at one point Henry does indeed threaten to abdicate, at least privately to Alex.

Soooooooo.

And this one's admittedly nitpicky, but Harry Potter references? Really? We do not need those, do we? Especially when you're indicating that you have people you care about that are indeed trans? (I've pulled up the Wikipedia article and have been informed that these references are removed from a later edition. On top of that, the author is nonbinary, so I imagine this might have been done not just because of readers commenting on it but them regretting writing in those references in the first place.)

And you know what, I don't know how much I've listed there is the problematic shit. Frankly, I sometimes have blinders on for this. I did not get involved in any of that "It's Totally Normal To Practice Kissing With Your Friends" shit, so idk how much of that is made up by media and how much of that really happens under the veil of wanting to actually kiss those of the same perceived gender. And since a lot of the stuff I read in this genre tends to be fanfiction (because I personally prefer having my blorbos at the ready to play Barbies with), I have no idea if the sex scenes are typical for this type of book compared to the wild-ass shit I read on the regular.

There's also the issue of Alex's race, which I am in no way qualified to talk about in depth but does merit mention: Alex is the child of an interracial marriage. His mother is white and his father is Latino. He is referred to as Alex, Alexander, Alejandro, Claremont (his mother's surname), and Diaz (his father's surname). The narration makes it clear that he is not perceived as white passing, that he is obviously Latino. And I have no idea what that might stir up. I didn't notice anything that made any alarm bells ring for me, but I am very white.

Overall, I was glad I listened to it. It hit the nice little niche it was aiming for, and I think there should be more stuff like it. But maybe put it in a universe not quite so close to ours like that.

[zeciex]

As a writer of fanfic with a show that is still ongoing, what do you when the characterization of characters in the show don't match up with what you have in your head?

In season 1, we were just newly introduced to the kids as adults before it ended, and then with the 2 year wait to season 2, I saw a lot of people headcannoning characterizations of characters, and then when season 2 aired and fleshed out more, a lot of people were angry that their version of the characters weren't the ones on screen. You yourself seemed to have done pretty well so far matching characterization with what is shown on screen in your story since the beginning, and even with the additional information of season 2, it still checks out. So what do you do when there's something you disagree with in a character on the show when writing your fic?

This is such a great question!

I think when it comes to Aemond and his characterization in season 1, I got a pretty good vibe/handle on him. He has his core defining traits; dutiful, resentful, arrogant. And I think it was important to realize the discotomy of his character because even though he is dutiful, he is also a wildcard; He would do what he needed to protect and defend his family as is his duty, but then he goes on setting off the war by losing his temper. He is defined by the trauma he suffered.

And from what we got in season 1 I kind of just wanted to elaborate on it, setting up things as I thought was in line with his character; I expected all of these things we've seen of him in season 2--how things has shifted after he killed luke and his mother is angry with him. He leans into this persona of being 'a monster' because that's what protects him. And this is what I expected. Ewan does such a wonderful job at portraying Aemond and that mask he wears--and yet, in his micro expressions we can see what he thinks/feels. It's all nuanced and I love it.

I don't know whether it was from excessive analysis of his character or just what I hoped they'd do with his character, but somehow I managed to get pretty close.

The characters I have more trouble with going into S2 was Rhaenyra and Daemon. Rhaenyra and her indecision and muddling about. And Daemon with his relationship with his daughters as well as the whole 'wanting the crown' thing because I thought we had established in s1 that he didn't want the crown, he wanted Rhaenyra. (which they now affirm once again?) And it is tough to reconcile what you think of a character, what you've derived from that character, and what we're now shown. I think, personally, I'll try to understand where the character is within the story and what the show is trying to tell us, and I try to configure said character to lean more towards the show--but given this is fanfiction, we're able to tweak the characters with what we think of them; I've made more a point with Daemon of him being an okay father. I removed the choking scene which seemed out of character to me. It doesn't mean he won't go on the same journey as he does on the show or that he won't still have the faults he has in the show, but I wanted to give him more nuance that the show seems to allow.

That's the beauty of fanfiction--we can do what we want with the characters. I didn't agree with some decisions in season 1 that I thought was out of character or didn't make narrative sense/should have consequences but didn't. Not everyone will agree with my take on Aemond or Daemon, and that's fair, I just try to understand the characters and make up for what I think the show lacks.

But it's definitely tough to sit with the feeling that the character you love isn't what you expected--maybe we just need to take a step back and reconfigure, or we can say fuck it, that doesn't make sense, so let me fix it.

I will say, if I could, I'd fistfight Sara Hess for her clear misunderstanding of Daemon's character--sometimes it is just influenced by the one who writes it, taking away from what is the core of a character that has already been established.

I don't know if this helped you at all, sorry about that lol

[princeloww]

-Campbell and his mother used to be super close, especially when he was young and before his illness became obvious. Whenever he started struggling and becoming harder to manage, I think a rift was created in their relationship -- particularly because I think his mother blames herself for Campbell's issues. Campbell's dad says that she's worried sick. She's literally made herself unwell with worry for Campbell - yet we never once see her visit. Maybe she can't bear to, because despite loving him so much, she feels responsible for his illness; a guilt that accidentally pulls Campbell even further away from her, because it comes across as being ashamed of him. She pulls away and becomes a shell of herself because she's so worried and worries that she did something wrong to cause his illness - which leads to Campbell also pulling away, for obvious reasons.

-For some reason when I'm writing her I always imagine her a bit like Francine? I always write her with dark curly hair and I have no idea why. Since she's literally made herself ill with worry, I imagine she's a bit frail and not herself half of the time. She's eaten up with guilt over what she perceives as a parental failing, to the degree where she's sick and barely herself. In one of my fics, I wrote in a specific detail that she would often pretend to watch the TV, while just zoning out in that general direction, because she's so lost in thought. Campbell basically calls her a loony as well, for the aforementioned sick with worry thing - so maybe she does display some traits of mental illness?? Because he would know what he's talking about, really

-Especially in the play, Campbell has very clear issues with his father. He literally shouts at him to fuck off (or is it fuck you? not sure) in the play. There is definitely major tension there, and I get the vibe that while his dad might be well-meaning, he completely misunderstands Campbell's disorder and doesn't make any effort to understand it. I think this leads to further stress and conflict between them, and therefore more stress for Campbell's mother. It's a sticky situation, when someone's parents make no effort to understand or accommodate for their needs. Campbell's dad wants him to get a proper job and squash his dreams just like he did. Campbell is all about dreams. That shit is not going to end well.

-Campbell's dad is also just really mean for no reason in the play its so sad. I hate that guy. I imagine he has a bad temper, especially when it comes to Campbell's behaviour (possibly in the lead up to his hospitalisation) - so his temper and stubbornness combined with Campbell's mother's guilt would create tension between them as well, possibly causing disagreements WHICH, terrible cycle, would probably only fuel Campbell more. Leading to an entire dysfunctional, stressful situation that 1) can lead to a person being hospitalised and 2) can create even more misunderstanding and a lack of empathy.

-I think that really, Campbell's mother feels very deeply about him and has his best interest at heart, but due to the times and where they are (Glasgow in 1994) lacks the proper guidance on how to deal with that sort of situation.

-Also for angsty fanfiction reasons, on a less foundational note, I definitely think his parents fought a lot and really struggled to properly manage his disorder when he was still living at home. Something had to have gone on for him to actually be sent to the hospital. I know in the play it's the whole BBC Scotland thing, but - again, primarily for angsty fanfiction reasons - I think it's gotta be more than that.

-So, for summary, I think that Campbell and his mother used to be very close - but they've drifted apart because she feels responsible for his illness and thinks she did something wrong while raising him. This obviously alienates Campbell, creating a rift in their relationship - combined with the fact that she never visits, he easily gets the impression that she is embarrassed of him.

-And angst and issues follow idk im too tired to conclude this idk where im going. also this is all headcanons and mostly not based on actual facts. i am jumping all over the place to every possible conclusion

i have so many headcanons about campbell bains mother and you WILL be hearing about it

[honeypiehotchner]

illicit affairs (Spencer Reid one-shot)

This is wayyy overdue! It’s just been sitting in my drafts, waiting for me to edit her, but she’s finally here. This is very loosely based on Taylor Swift’s song of the same title. And it’s 100% me writing out some feelings through fanfiction, so it’s also loosely based on true events. Enjoy!

Summary: You and Spencer have been “dating” without a label for a few months now, until you witness something that has you wondering if it was too good to be true (as always).

Warnings: it’s so dramatic. Angst with a happy ending!

Spencer has no fucking clue what he did.

Well, to be more accurate, Spencer has no idea if he even did anything at all.

One second the two of you were acting as normal as ever, attached at the hip and nothing less, and the next you’re barely able to look at him. You won’t speak to him, you insist you’re fine, and you ask him to leave you alone -- please.

A new case comes and he thinks things will fall back into their rightful place. He expects you to sit with him on the plane, but you choose the farthest seat away from him. He expects you’ll be paired with him when he says he’ll go to the local station to work on victimology, but instead you agree to Morgan’s offer to look at the crime scene.

He’s desperate. He’s a so-called genius, and he’s losing his mind.

“Morgan, help me out here, man,” Spencer pleads, cornering Morgan when he’s getting a coffee. He’s just returned from the crime scene with you, but of course, you’ve ducked away from Spencer.

Derek’s eyebrows raise. Slowly, he turns around, eyeing the desperate genius. “You’re asking for my advice?”

“She won’t talk to me,” Spencer whispers, eyes cutting to you, but only for a second. He doesn’t want you to think he’s creepily staring at you all the time. So far, you haven’t caught him (that he knows of).

“Well, what did you do?” Morgan asks like the answer should be blatantly obvious.

“I don’t know!”

“Alright, let me rephrase that for you,” Morgan’s tone is bordering on teasing, but he can’t help it. The resident genius of the BAU is having trouble talking to a woman. Who knew? “Have you done anything that would lead her to believe you’re not interested in her anymore?”

“What? No!”

“Think, Reid,” Morgan replies, tipping his cup of coffee in the air. “And when you figure it out, apologize.”

He leaves without another word. Morgan joins you and Emily back in the room where the team has set up base. You share a particularly heated look with Morgan, but he shakes his head, letting you know he didn’t betray your confidence. You relax.

Spencer doesn’t know this, but earlier when you were riding with Morgan to the crime scene, you confided in him.

It had been completely accidental. Something about car rides brings out the need to ask for advice. Maybe it’s the fact that there’s the road to focus on, or the case to segway into, you don’t know. But what you do know, is that when you confided in Morgan, he shook his head, and called Spencer a dumbass.

“Hypothetically,” you had begun, and Morgan remembers wondering if you were going to talk about the case, but you didn’t. “If you’ve been talking-- flirting with a guy and going on a few dates over the past few months -- but there’s no label -- but so if you’ve been doing all this and then you suddenly see him outside his apartment hugging another woman -- like arms around her waist kind of deal, face in her neck...what does that mean?”

Morgan had nearly slammed on the brakes. Reid? A two-timer? He never would’ve guessed. The kid could barely get his words out when he first met you, and now he’s playing you?

“Well, hypothetically,” Morgan played into your game. “I’d be suspicious. Personally, I don’t just hug any woman like that if I don’t have other intentions,” he shook his head. What you’re describing is intimate, especially for Reid. “You’re right to think something else is going on.”

“Who said it was about me?”

Morgan looked at you with his usual knowing stare. Sometimes you forget you’re all profilers. You’ve made deals not to profile one another, but you’re sure it still happens. You all have another silence agreement to never voice it aloud, unless needed.

“Fine,” you caved, crossing your arms over your chest. “I don’t know, I just-- I was going to drop off his stupid jacket that he left in my car the night before, and I saw him hugging her right on his doorstep and she kissed his cheek and I just-- I bolted. I don’t know.” You had let out a frustrated sigh. “I thought he was different.”

“If it helps,” Morgan shrugged, “I’ll kick his ass.” He might protect Reid like a mother hen, but he’s not afraid to give him a hard time, either.

“No, no, don’t,” you groaned. “I’m just gonna keep my distance. No sense in putting effort into something that clearly is never going to happen.”

“Oh, come on, don’t talk like that,” Morgan said. You used to talk that way all the time when you first started at the BAU, but it slowly died out the more you hung out with Spencer. Morgan connected the dots, but never told you.

“You know I’ve never been in a relationship?”

This time, Morgan did slam on the brakes.

“What?”

“Never,” you shook your head, motioning for him to keep driving. “Not one. They all fall through. I started thinking something was wrong with me, you know?” Morgan gave you another look, his sad, big brother one this time. “But then Spencer and I started getting closer, he took me on what I thought, I guess, were a couple of dates. I mean, he paid and drove and walked me to my door and all that cute shit. That’s a date, right? I mean, he never kissed me on the lips, but it’s Spencer.” You didn’t even look to see Morgan’s reaction, but he was nodding. “I started to think maybe it was never me, maybe it was the guys--”

“It was the guys,” Morgan argued. “Alright? You’re amazing. Anyone would be lucky to have you. It would be a damn honor. Don’t let that head of yours convince you otherwise.”

You shook your head, the crime scene rapidly approaching. “I’m not so sure anymore.”

You were out of the car and introducing yourself to the police on the scene before Morgan could even blink.

Morgan can only hope Reid had a good reason for having a woman at his door and hugging her, and letting her kiss his cheek. Reid doesn’t give hugs to just anyone, let alone accept a kiss, so whoever it was, obviously she was more than a friend.

The thought of Reid being a player makes Morgan smile. On the one hand, he’s a little bit proud. On the other, he’s pissed. It’s one thing to have one night stands with women who are into that sort of thing, but it’s another to drag someone along -- someone like you, someone who is too good, who deserves better than that.

Morgan had thought about telling you to just talk to Spencer, in hopes that there was a good reason for what you saw, but you’ve made it painfully clear over the past two weeks that you’d rather keep your distance instead.

So, he lets you. He can’t say that he blames you, really. Not after what you told him. He can only hope Spencer will figure this one out before it’s too late.

+++

After the case is closed and you’re back home, you immediately head for the shower. Cases are exhausting enough, but avoiding Spencer made it worse. Going from being attached at the hip to trying to be anywhere except in the same room as him took a toll on you. Not to mention, dodging everyone else’s worried looks. Morgan is the only one you’ve confided in, but that hasn’t stopped Hotch, Emily, JJ, and even Garcia from constantly asking if you’re alright.

Once you’re finished showering and in your pajamas, you head back to the living area. Spencer’s forgotten cardigan lays on the arm of your couch, lonely.

You know you shouldn’t, but you shrug it on anyway. No harm in wearing it. Not like he misses it. He probably has a hundred others.

You head to the kitchen to make yourself some tea, hoping it’ll soothe your nerves and help you drift off to sleep before your mind has the time to make you think of Spencer.

Too late.

Sighing heavily, you place the kettle on the stove. You hum a song while you’re at it, knowing that you’re being endlessly dramatic.

It’s not like you had sex with Spencer. Hell, the most the two of you did was hold hands and you kissed his cheek. He kissed your head once, though you think it was an accident.

Still, there was never a label. Why are you so upset?

Don’t call me kid, don’t call me baby/Look at this idiotic fool that you made me

It’s stupid, really, how hung up you are over this. A few dates don’t exactly mean anything at all. Flirting nowadays can mean nothing, too. You don’t understand any of it.

You cup your cheek gently, foolishly wondering what it would feel like if Spencer’s hand was there instead -- maybe even as he kissed you, but you don’t want to get too carried away. It’s not like anything will ever happen now.

And you know damn well/for you I would ruin myself/a million little times

Maybe you just need more time. This was the first time in a long time that you had let your guard down, let yourself go on dates. So many times it had all gone wrong, so you closed yourself off and focused on your career. You thought since you were stable at the BAU that now it was okay.

You thought Spencer -- Spencer Reid, of all people, you really thought he would’ve been different.

Maybe it’s just your type. Maybe that’s who you attract. The men who don’t want anything serious and never will. They’re stuck in Peter Pan mode. You must be Wendy. It must be a curse.

The kettle boils and you cut the burner off, fixing your tea.

You’re just walking back to the living room when there’s a knock on your door. You freeze, your panicked mind expecting the absolute worst, until you hear Spencer’s voice.

“Y/N?” He calls out. “It’s Spencer-- You probably knew that already.”

You smile into your tea, but you make no move for the door. You want-- no, you ache to let him inside, but you know it’s a bad idea. He’s probably here to ask if you’re alright, and you don’t have the energy to answer him. He’s probably going to go back to his girlfriend after this. You really don’t know that you can handle a face-to-face rejection.

“Y/N, please,” Spencer says again, pleading. He knocks once more, quietly. “I see lights are on, so I’m just going to...assume you can hear me.”

You walk a step closer. You don’t want to let him inside, but maybe you can listen. That won’t be too bad, right?

“Y/N, I’m...I’m sorry.”

Oh, tears. Stupid, stupid tears. You wipe them on the sleeve of his cardigan, glad that they’re at least falling quietly right now.

“I don’t know what I did, but I’m...I’m just sorry and I miss you and it’s killing me that you won’t even look at me. I…” Spencer pauses, and you walk closer, biting on the sleeve to keep from letting out a sob. “I’m sorry, I don’t… Please, just tell me what I did.”

You press your back to the door, sliding down until you hit the floor. You keep your knees against your chest and set the mug of tea down next to you. The noise causes Spencer’s ears to perk up.

“Y/N? Is that you?”

“Yeah, Spencer,” you barely speak loud enough for him to hear. “It’s me.”

“Please, tell me what I did,” he pleads, voice breaking. Is he crying, too? “I don’t know what it was, but I’ll fix it. Or I’ll try-- Please, let me try.”

“Spencer…” You sigh, tears falling down your cheeks with no restraint. “Be honest with me, are you seeing someone else?” You pause, choking on a sob. So many times you’ve had this conversation, the rejection, finding out you weren’t the one they wanted. Too many times. But none of them ever hurt this bad. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

“What?” Spencer nearly falls over. Why on earth would you think that? “What are you talking about? Of course not.”

“Don’t lie to me, please,” you groan, pressing your hand to your forehead. This is pathetic. You shouldn’t be showing him how upset you are. And through a door, no less. Can you get any more dramatic?

“What are you talking about?”

“I was at your apartment, Spencer,” you mutter, wiping angrily at your cheeks. “I went to drop off this stupid cardigan of yours and you-- You were hugging a woman outside your door and I saw it and I saw her kiss you--”

You cut yourself off, choking on another sob, and Spencer sighs. He understands now.

“Open the door. Please,” he says.

“Why?” You reply quietly. “If you’re just going to reject me, please, just do it through the door.” The last thing you want is for him to see you like this when he tells you he’s seeing someone else, that he didn’t even know you liked him, and so on.

“I’m not rejecting you,” he says softly. “Please.”

You know it’s a bad idea, but how much worse can things get?

You stand to your feet and open the door, careful of the mug of tea on the floor. Spencer’s heart drops at the sight of you. Tear stains on your cheeks, red eyes, your quivering lip as you try to hold things together, and...his cardigan hanging off your shoulders. Somehow the last tops it all off, sends a strike of pain right to his heart.

You wipe some more tears away with the sleeve, motioning for him to start talking. “Go on.”

“She’s an old friend. We did kiss before, once. But she’s not my girlfriend. She was in town and wanted to stop by to tell me she’s getting married...to her girlfriend of three years.”

You nod slowly. For some reason, that doesn’t even make you feel better. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Spencer asks, hopeful tone and all. “Are we okay?”

“What are we, Spencer?” You ask, eyes still watering. “I can’t keep going on the way we were going, you know? It’s agonizing, I just want to know what’s going on in your head.”

Spencer smiles softly. “I want you to...to be my girlfriend.”

Your ears are deceiving you. They must be. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. I thought it was obvious,” he chuckles. “That’s one of the things I talked to her about -- her name’s Jess. She invited me-- us to the wedding. I was gonna ask you to be my girlfriend-- I still want to, I mean, if you’ll have me.”

More tears spring to your eyes and Spencer’s heart jumps, thinking he did something completely wrong.

“What happened? Did I say something?”

“No,” you shake your head. “God.” You wipe at your cheeks before turning and retreating back into your apartment. Spencer has no choice but to follow you.

He spots your mug of tea and places it on the coffee table as he shuts your front door gently with his foot.

“I’m so...stupid,” you mutter, jumping when you see he’s followed you inside. He’s not unwelcome here by any means, you’re just an idiot. A huge idiot.

“You’re not stupid,” he argues. “I wish you would’ve talked to me.”

“Would you believe me if I told you this has happened to me before?” You murmur pathetically, propping your body against the arm of your couch.

Spencer’s heart breaks more. You won’t look at him again.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh, clasping your hands together, fighting the shakes. “I should’ve talked to you, I just-- This has happened before and those times it was… Well, you know.” You finally look up at him, tears falling. “The first time the guy didn’t even try hiding it. The second one did, but not very well because I still found out. The third wasn’t even aware that he was flirting with me, I guess. I don’t know how you can take someone on dates for months and not be aware, but he said he wasn’t.” You pause, looking away again. “I just saw a pattern and I freaked out and I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Spencer whispers, even though you still feel like it’s not.

You shake your head.

“Y/N, it is,” he presses on. “I should’ve...talked to you about how I’m feeling, but I was scared. You’re the first girl that’s-- I don’t know, liked me for me, I guess. Dorkiness and all.”

You chuckle, and Spencer nearly grins. He got a laugh. That’s something.

“How about we both make a deal to communicate better?” He offers. You nod, so he keeps going. “I’ll go first. I really want you to be my girlfriend.”

You can’t help but smile now, all dumb and trying to hide it in the sleeve of his cardigan. “I’d really love to be your girlfriend.”

“Yeah?” He asks, almost like he wasn’t even expecting you to agree, but you nod, confirming it for his genius brain.

The kiss the two of you share is a long time coming. It’s gentle and warm, relaxing your muscles and easing the tension you’ve held in them for the past two weeks. Spencer gathers you in his arms, keeping you close, with zero intent of ever letting you go.

+++

When you walk into the BAU the next morning, you are painfully reminded that you are surrounded by the best profilers in the country.

It’s no secret that you and Spencer have been “dating” for a while, but you never showed PDA -- partly because the two of you were fumbling around your true feelings, and partly because you’re not too sure how relationships stand with protocol here.

Apparently, despite coming in fifteen minutes apart from one another, everyone can see right through you both.

Morgan is the first to say something. He catches you when the elevator doors open and you have Spencer’s cardigan hanging over your shoulders. In your defense, Spencer forgot to grab it when he left your house sometime this morning, so you were just trying to return it -- again.

“Late night?” Morgan raised his eyebrows.

Realizing your mistake, your eyes widen. “Shut up.” You step off the elevator and point a threatening finger in his face. “Not a word.”

Morgan’s hands raise in surrender, but he still has that goddamn smile on his face. “Might wanna take off that cardigan, sweetheart. You’re too obvious.”

Angrily, you shrug it off and walk into the bullpen.

Spencer is at his desk, so you shove his cardigan into his chest. “You forgot this.”

Upon seeing that it’s you, Spencer’s lips stretch into a grin. “Thanks.” He pauses, folding the cardigan over his arm. “I was kind of hoping you’d keep it,” he whispers, eyes darting around to be sure no one is listening. “It looks better on you, anyway.”

You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek. “Give it to me tonight, then,” you wink, earning a light blush on Spencer’s cheeks.

Hotch watches this encounter from the railing and smiles. He’s sure neither of you will do anything to warrant him giving you a stern talk about relationships and work, so he won’t mention anything for now.

Instead, he retreats back into his office, glad you’ve finally gotten over yourselves.

Garcia catches on when you come to visit her in her office only to find Spencer already standing there. He’s animatedly talking about Doctor Who, but stops abruptly when he sees you. It doesn’t take a profiler to understand the glances, the smiles, and awkward goodbyes that were shared so you could ask Garcia a question.

Prentiss is just glad the two of you will look at one another again, but the way you keep glancing over her shoulder to see Spencer is more than obvious. It’s so obvious that Prentiss and JJ share a knowing look, but say nothing. They should’ve placed bets.

You and Spencer catch each other’s eyes more than a dozen times every hour, and he follows you to the break room to conveniently get a coffee at the same time as you.

Yeah, you’re not being obvious at all.

Neither of you notice that the team has caught on, so you take your chances when you find yourselves alone in the break room. You can practically hear the conversations the rest of the team is having out in the bullpen, so you let Spencer pull you into his arms, his chin resting on top of your head.

This is a lot for Spencer, and you too, if you’re honest. Hugs are something you never found yourself enjoying, but when you’re tucked into Spencer’s chest, you never want to leave.

You’re both too busy holding one another to hear Hotch’s footsteps as he enters the room. The clearing of his throat is what finally breaks the two of you apart.

“Agent Hotchner,” you blurt, straightening yourself and taking one too many steps away from Reid.

Hotch smirks. You haven’t called him that since your first day. “New case. Looks like a short one. Conference room in five minutes.”

And he leaves as quick as he came, chuckling under his breath.

You and Spencer share a look before dissolving into laughter and fixing your coffee. You don’t try to walk out of the break room separately, knowing that there’s no use.

Especially not when you get cold on your way to the conference room, and Spencer promptly wraps you in his cardigan.

[scorpia-is-babey]

Schrodinger’s Scorpion Kingdom

ALT Title: 

An Essay Detailing Why I Don’t Believe in Either Theory of Hordak Wiping out the Scorpioni, or that the Former Scorpioni Gave Up the Kingdom Willingly 

I often jokingly say that Scorpia’s backstory has to be the most convoluted, jumbled mess of a character I have ever had the misfortune of simping... Uh, I mean, analyzing for. I’m not the type of nerd to get spoon fed information without chewing on it first. Whenever I try to chew on the idea that Hordak miraculously brought the Scorpioni to their knees, or if he was simply given the Runestone and kingdom, I can’t really come to any agreement. Both are equally ridiculous if we sit down and dissect them. 

Firstly, we are shown very clear evidence that the Horde (and by extension Hordak) had overthrown the kingdom (that popular screenshot of a few Scorpioni laying face down on the ground, the Black Garnet looming in the center). But there’s never any further explanation about that. How he might have rallied these brand new troops and given them armor; the early bits of technology he used; how he could have possibly discovered that the Black Garnet was a noteworthy piece of power; what the previous relationship between the Horde and Scorpioni was... 

Scorpia’s takes or explanations on any of this doesn’t and will never count. She is not only a heavily biased party, but she isn’t a primary source of information. Force Captain Orientation, and therefore, Hordak, is the easiest answer to look towards regarding how she knows the things she knows. Scorpia is always a secondary source of information and it is impossible to take her word for whatever happened before she was born. 

The main, primary source we do have is Light Spinner.

Light Spinner was watching the attack in real time and showed young King Micah. Her actions in “Light Spinner” (S2, E6) are desperate and urgent for that reason; there’s no time to be wasted. Through her and the narrative, we have a little bit of information on the Scorpioni, and we can conclude a few things about them: 

1) They were doing well for themselves at some point. The entirety of the Fright Zone belonged to them, and there are even larger areas that the audience only gets to see once (Horror Hall) that would suggest opulence. Runestones are the deciding factor of a Princess of Power as well (these being the Elemental Princesses, the fact that there’s canonically only a handful of them). All of the Princesses of Power have very large kingdoms (i.e. Kingdom of Snows, Salineas, Bright Moon, and Plumeria). 

2) Nobody gave up anything. If the aforementioned screenshot of the Scorpioni people laying face down on the ground and the looming Black Garnet being tied up wasn’t enough incentive to not believe that this was a peaceful treaty, I bring your attention to the fact that Light Spinner was keen on joining the Horde. She was accepted on the basis that she would be able to use the Black Garnet. 

This random Mystacor sorceress, and not, say, the Black Garnet’s actual Princess. 

3) They were not an obscure kingdom. Hordak’s arrival was common knowledge. Narrative wise, we don’t get to know this until Catra knows this. Just because Catra doesn’t know it, doesn’t mean that it isn’t a general fact. If there are only six elemental princesses in their entire known world, it would be jarring if the Black Garnet’s Princess was forgotten only after a few years since Hordak’s arrival. 

We also don’t have extra confirmation from Light Spinner this time, but from the fact that Scorpia gets a Princess Prom invitation in the Fright Zone. They know where to mail it. They know where Princess Scorpia resides. 

Who is “they”?  

Canon doesn’t give us an answer to that. For the sake of continuing this point, we’re going to put a pin in it. Leave it for another day. 

With all of these inferences of the former Scorpioni Kingdom, this leaves us with the idea that Hordak’s rule over them was, unsurprisingly forceful... 

Somehow. 

This character spends the majority of his time pursuing his own personal goals. He wants to rejoin Horde Prime by opening a portal and taking the entire Horde army into Etheria to conquer it. When he does end up doing this, it’s with the help of Catra, Entrapta, and indirectly, Scorpia. 

He needs repairs to his armor eventually, which Entrapta helps him with; he needs Shadow Weaver to keep the soldiers in line as his second in command; he needs Catra after Shadow Weaver to take that second in command position which she absolutely succeeds in more than either of them could ever have... 

How does Hordak overtake the Black Garnet without these characters and resources all of those years ago? Where does he get these soldiers from? Why are these soldiers strong enough to conquer a fully capable, thriving kingdom? 

One idea floating around in the fandom space is that the Scorpioni were as non-confrontational, jovial and charismatic as Scorpia is shown to be, therefore allowing themselves to be conquered. That idea is not only unlikely, but it is admitting that somehow Scorpia would have met her people and known them well enough to pick up those traits. If not anything else, that claim is entirely ridiculous. 

Although we see Scorpia in a picture with her mothers as an infant, it’s unlikely that she got to know them either and pick up on their traits. There is never any mention of them verbally and no confirmation if they are dead or alive. Scorpia’s mothers not making an appearance or even being mentioned implies that they are dead, but, again, that’s never confirmed... Instead we can conclude that the mother with the Black Garnet connection is, at the very least, disconnected from it. When Glimmer is crowned as Queen and she no longer has to share the Moonstone with Angella, she gets all of its power. When Scorpia connects with the Black Garnet, she gets all of its power. She is not sharing any of its power with anyone at that point. 

...

This leaves me, annoyingly, left with more questions than answers. With Scorpia being my favorite character, I am constantly writing, drawing, and discussing her. This makes me acutely aware that she’s got one of the most plot hole-inclined, nonsensical backstories of the entire cast. It spills over into Hordak and the Scorpioni plotline, too. 

Fortunately, since I don’t believe in either “Hordak conquered the Scorpioni”, or “the Scorpioni gave up the Black Garnet willingly”, this does nothing to affect how I perceive canon, Hordak, or the Scorpioni. 

After thinking about and writing it all down, I genuinely do not care about Scorpia’s background anymore. I will make decisions based on her background when the opportunities arise in discussion or fanfiction writing. Both Scorpion Kingdom theories are ridiculous, leaving us with this paradoxical theory: 

“Schrodinger’s Scorpion Kingdom Theory”, is realizing that this plotline doesn’t make sense, and then deciding to fill in your own spaces where it best suits your own understanding of the narrative —because the original explanations are both plausible and implausible, given what we know from the canonical facts. 

[cellophanejpeg]

people throw rocks at things that shine

***gif is not a visual representation of the reader***

Pairing: Ezra x female!reader

Summary: During a ball your parents were throwing, you meet a charming gentleman and discover new feelings you thought it didn’t exist.

a/n: Requested by anynomous! i tried to make this as vague as possible and tried to focus only on Ezra and you. 😬😬, this is uuuuuh something… i tried. also, my brain isn’t capable of writing perfect regency dialogue, so please bear with me.

warnings: REGENCY ERA INACCURACIES!!!!! (don’t read it if you're going to be offended by the lack of accuracy, istg, this is just fanfiction, i’m just having fun pls don’t come at me). slut shaming from a side character, period drama shenanigans, age gap (reader is of age), i gave Ezra a last name sorry! use of the word “flustered”

word count: 9.2k (told you it was long)

masterlist

The room is full of people and it’s hard to breathe with the stuffy air. The smell of sweat lingers in the room, but you’ve grown used to it. People dance to the ballad and talk over the music and over each other, making your ears ring with the sound. You fan yourself, trying to find some relief in the hot room. It’s a way to distract yourself from the fact no gentleman has invited you to dance yet. And it’s almost the middle of the night.

Balls aren’t really your thing anyway. You prefer quiet nights under the moonlight as you watch the stars, or read in the candlelight. Your favorite nights are the ones that rain and you have to stay inside, all wrapped up in blankets by the fireplace to warm yourself. Not hot summer nights, inside other people’s ballrooms, watching everyone being bewitched by your sister.

You’re not jealous of her, no, you’re not. You love her with your heart and soul, she’s your best friend. But she’s the prettiest. The most beautiful. Your parents are so proud of her and the suitors who seek to marry her. She’s not of age yet, though, not like you. No, you’re past your twenties and, in society’s eyes, you’re already a lost cause. No husband, no suitor, no nothing.

You almost roll your eyes at the thought. All of them are so old-fashioned. But you’d be lying if you say you don’t care. Deep down, you wouldn’t mind if one gentleman asked you to dance.

“She’s captivating, isn’t she? The most beautiful girl in the room.” A voice with a different accent interrupts your thoughts and you almost jump, startled by it.

A man stands beside you, golden skin, dark hair – save by a blonde patch, a birthmark, you assume – and brown eyes. His eyes never leave the crowd of people dancing and laughing, not even when you stare at him. When you return your eyes to the people, you see your sister, laughing and dancing and your heart sinks. Of course, he’s talking about your sister.

“Yes,” you respond when you notice you didn’t give him an answer. Your mother always told you it’s impolite to leave people talking by themselves, “Yes, she–”

“So, you agree?” He turns to face you, his eyes piercing your soul, “You agree you’re the most beautiful girl in this ball?”

Your eyes widen and you feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment. Looking away quickly, you swallow hard, trying to think of something to say. He still stares at you as the silence stretches for a moment until you clear your throat and gather the courage to look back at him.

“Forgive me,” you say with a trembling voice, “I thought you were speaking about–”

“Your sister?” He interrupts again with a smirk and a wink, “No, she’s too young. Too young and too naive, isn’t she? Not like you.”

The last statement catches you by surprise and you feel your face burning again. He laughs softly and bows slightly at you as a soft melody starts to be played by the musicians hired by your parents. Your name falls from his lips and you wonder how he knows it. Because you’ve never seen him in your life.

“Perhaps, you will do me the honor.” He offers his hand, still slightly curving his body.

“Of course.” Without thinking, you take his hand and let him guide you to the middle of the ballroom, where the other people are dancing to a soft waltz.

Contrary to his words, the man is polite while he dances with you, keeping his distance and never letting his hands wander on you. You can still feel your cheeks burning and even more when you realize everyone in the room is looking at you. You keep your eyes to the floor, watching as his feet lead yours through the room.

“You’re shy for someone from your family, little bird,” he murmurs, “Keep your eyes on mine. Forget about anyone else.”

And so you do. Somehow, his piercing brown eyes catch yours and you’re unable to look away. Suddenly, it feels like you and he are the only ones in the ballroom, dancing to a secret melody.

“You seem to know everything about my family, Mister,” you say when you finally find your voice again, “But I know nothing about you.”

He smiles then, his eyes dancing between yours, “What do you wish to know, precious gem?”

“Well, to start, I’d love to know your name.” You smile at last when he spins you, then catches you in his arms again.

“Ezra,” he whispers so low, you almost don’t hear it.

“Mister Ezra,” you repeat, tasting the name in your tongue, “How do you know so much about my family?”

“Everyone knows about your family.” He laughs, flickering his eyes to your lips for a second.

“I suppose.” Your voice sounds sad for a moment, but it is true.

Your family is one of the wealthiest in the town, which is why your parents always insisted on giving balls and private parties, to keep relevance in the small society. This is also why most men tried to court you before you rejected all of them. They were all gentlemen, nice men, not all of them were bad people, but… You couldn’t help but notice they were only doing it because they were supposed to. None of these men actually liked you, you knew that. And you aren’t a bad person for rejecting them.

You just want someone who actually likes you.

“Everyone also knows you’ve rejected every suitor in this room,” he says as if he’s reading your mind. Ezra smiles at your discomfort as he spins you around once more, “There’s only so many gentlemen you can dismiss, birdie.”

“I understand now,” you tell him, avoiding his eyes and becoming aware of everyone in the room again, “The motive of your request to dance with me.” You don’t see as the smile falls from his face, “So you can mock me.”

“Little bird, that was not my intention at all.” He tries to explain himself, “I–”

“Then why say such a thing?” You don’t let him speak further as the song fades to an end, “Thank you for the dance, Mr. Ezra, but– I think I’m done for the night.”

Without looking at him, you turn your back and walk away, towards your mother who’s been staring at you from across the room since you started to dance with Ezra. Your intention was to go outside to clear your head, but she stops you before you can head out.

“You need to stay away from that man, child.” She warns you, “If he’s the only one who wants to court you, then our lineage is doomed.”

You pull your eyebrows together, confused, “Whatever you mean, mother?”

“Ezra Waley is no gentleman. He takes innocent girls like you and makes them into desperate dishonored whores.”

I’m not innocent, you fight the urge to tell her, but stay quiet and just nod in obedience.

“May I be an excuse for a breath of fresh air, mother?” you ask, avoiding her eyes.

“You may.” She doesn’t look at you either as she speaks.

With a sigh, you finally leave the room, heading to the private gardens. Your favorite place is actually the maze, where you know the way like the back of your hand. You go there when you’re feeling suffocated by your family, but right now, knowing there are guests all over the place, you choose the most private place you can go.

You take a seat on a stone bench and start to remove your silk gloves, sighing with the relief of the cold breeze that blows on your cheeks. The music from the party is muffled but the thick walls of the mansion you live at, but it’s better than the loud noise from the inside. Leaning back, you bask in the moonlight and close your eyes, longing for a sense of peace.

“May I take a seat?” Ezra’s voice interrupts your moment.

“These are private gardens,” you say harshly, as you look up at him, “and if you came here to ridicule me once more, please spare your time and leave.”

Ezra laughs softly, but doesn't move, “I came to apologize,” he says, tugging at the lapels of his tailcoat, “Sometimes my mouth moves quicker than my head can process. I had no intention to insult you, my lady. I offer you my most sincere apologies.”

It's the first time he treats you with the respect a guest should to a hostess of a party. It catches you by surprise and you look back at the bush of flowers in front of you.

“You may take a seat,” you finally respond to his question, but don't look at him when he sits beside you, keeping his distance as he did when dancing to you. You don’t speak and neither does he for a moment. Then, you both speak at the same time, over each other.

“Do you know–”

“Do you–”

The both of you pause and then laugh for a moment. Ezra’s laugh is beautiful, you notice. Suddenly, it’s like the dance all over again. As soon as you look into his eyes, it’s like everything disappears and it’s just the two of you in the entire world.

“Forgive me,” he says, motioning with his hand to you, “Ladies first.”

You smile softly at him but hesitate to speak.

“The gentlemen I’ve rejected,” you start, unsure he’ll understand you, “they never really... It-it always felt… insincere.”

“Insincere?”

“Yes.” You can feel your eyes watering as you look away, “None of them were found of me. You told me that… I’m not naive like my sister, but perhaps I am. I wish to marry for love, true love. Not just convenience.”

Your fingers play with the hem of your gloves, tracing the delicate stitches.

“Why would that be naive, little bird?”

A silence falls on the both of you as you let the tears roll down your cheeks, your eyes set on the big bright moon.

“There’s no such thing as true love.”

Ezra pauses and furrows his eyebrows, “What makes you think that?”

It’s your turn to pause as you hadn’t thought about it. You’ve never experienced it and you’ve never seen it between your parents. For you, true love is something that happens in books, in the stories you read when you’re bored. While you don’t respond to Ezra’s question, he understands. As he said, everyone in this town knows your family, everyone knows your parents’ marriage happened for mere convenience.

“I advise you not to lose hope, little bird,” Ezra says, all of a sudden. In a bold move, he places his hand on top of yours, “There is true love. You just have to look closely.”

“Have you found it?” You ask, looking at him with teary eyes. He smiles at you.

“No, not yet.”

The two of you share a knowing look and it’s like you’ve known him for years. It’s like this isn’t the first time you met, like he’s an old friend. The connection you make with him is remarkable and, as he tells you about himself and his life, you can’t help but wish you’d known him in a different way.

The night goes by as Ezra tells you he’s planning on expanding his business here with a famous jewelry company. When you ask what his business does, he tells you about the time where he used to explore new lands and found a large number of precious gems that he plans on transforming into jewelry for women. You smile at that, although you don’t really know why.

It’s only when the sun is starting to rise that you realize how long you’ve spent by his side, listening to his stories and laughing at his jokes. The best part is that you don’t have a drop of alcohol in your bloodstream. It’s easy to talk to him, you noticed. You don’t need champagne or wine to listen to him, in fact, he could talk for days and you’d still listen to his beautiful voice every second of it.

“I want to show you something,” you tell him, standing up from your place at the bench. The idea rushes into you like a sea breeze and you can’t let it go.

“What is it, little bird?” Ezra stands up to follow you as you enter a secret passage between two pillars of grass.

It’s a narrow trail and he has to walk faster to keep up with you, the branches and leaves getting in his way. The passage ends right at the maze. In the light of dawn, there are only a few people left, and most of them are leaving the place, tired and drunk from the fun night they had.

“Do you know your way to the middle?” Ezra asks as you start walking towards it.

“Yes. It’s my favorite place outdoors. I go there often.”

You stop at the entrance of the grass labyrinth and look back at him.

“Here.” Your voice is soft as you offer your hand to him, “Take my hand so you won’t go astray.”

Ezra allows himself to be pulled by you as you guide him through the maze. Your soft hands send tingles through his skin and it makes his heart warm with the touch. He watches you, not paying attention to the way or where you’re taking him. You glance at him over your shoulder once, through hooded eyes and a soft smile on your lips.

Eventually, you get to the middle of the maze, where a statue of a beautiful woman is. Your hand is still holding his and you don’t say a word as you bring him to the middle, releasing his hand as soon as you realize you’re still holding it.

“Her name is Aphrodite,” you tell him, voice soft, “She’s the–”

“Goddess of love.” He completes the sentence for you. A beautiful smile spreads your features and you nod, leaning your head towards him and whispering conspiratorially, 

“When I was a child, I used to think she would grant wishes. I would come here every day for a wish.”

Ezra laughs softly and looks at you. Your eyes shine in the dawn light, and he fights the urge to lean in and press his lips against yours. How delightful it would be to feel your soft lips on his. To feel your hand on his face, his arms around you. To hug you close to him and never let go.

“Did she grant you your wish?” He asks, instead.

You pause for a moment and look back at the statue, “Perhaps. I don’t know yet.”

He smiles at you, a familiar feeling setting on his gut. His heart told him he knew exactly what you were talking about.

…

“Stupid, insolent child!” Your mother’s voice echoes in the dining room, "The only man I tell you to stay away from! And do you do? Disobey me! Should I really be surprised?!"

Her voice booms in the room, but you're not listening. Shortly after you brought Ezra to the maze, he had to leave, claiming it was past his bedtime. You laughed at his joke and thought about touching him. You thought about holding his hand, cupping his cheek, and kissing him. And you haven't stopped thinking about it, even now. Even after retreating home and changing your garments. Even after having breakfast and even now, as your mother screams at you.

“We just talked,” you say when you realized your mom asked you a question. You weren't listening, “Nothing happened, mother.”

“People saw you taking his hand!”

“So he wouldn't get lost in the maze!” You hide a smile by taking a bite of your toast.

“Do you know what people say about him?” Goodness, she won't drop the subject, “They say bad things about the women who cross his path–”

“That's enough.” Your father saves the day, interrupting your mother, “We all understand your worries, my dear, but Ezra is not that bad of a character after all.”

At that, your ears perk and your attention is turned to your father.

“He might be… A bit unorthodox,” he continues, “but he is a good man. From what I heard.”

“‘From what you heard’?” Your mother has a skeptical look on her face, “This is not about rumors! This is about our daughter’s reputation!”

“And what can be worse than the one she already has?”

The statement should upset you, but it doesn’t. Instead, you bite down a smile and hold your laughter, carefully taking a sip from your hot tea. The tension in the room is visible, you can see in the way your mother’s eyes twitch as she looks intensely at your father.

You clear your throat, setting the teacup down and interrupting the silence, “Well, this is a lovely conversation, but I’m afraid I must retire. I am feeling worn out from the party, so I’ll try to rest before starting my day.”

Your parents don’t look at you as you stand up and leave the room. You weren’t lying, you are feeling a bit drained from standing in a room full of people you don’t like most of the night. But when you lay your back on the soft mattress, in your bedroom, you can’t stop thinking about him.

The back of your right hand still tingles from the hairs on his mustache when he kissed your skin. You feel an unfamiliar sensation inside your stomach, something you don’t quite recognize. Something you don’t want to recognize, out of fear it might not be real.

The next few days go by painfully slowly, as you stay up late most nights, reminiscing the night you met Ezra. Going over what you said and what he said over and over again, wishing you could see him again.

Then, one morning, as you retreat to the library to find a book you still haven't read, your wish becomes reality. As you take the book from a high shelf, it slips from your hand and it falls to the floor. But before you can bend over to take it, a hand is faster than yours and grabs the book.

“You ought to be more careful, little bird,” the familiar voice echoes in the library and your heart skips a beat. When you turn around, Ezra is there, handing you the book. You can’t ignore the way your breath hitches when your fingertips brush on his. It’s like you’re back at the maze, with his hand in yours, guiding him through the walls of grass.

“And you ought to be quieter in a library,” you say softly. Ezra smiles, a beautiful smile spreading his features. You try to bite down a smile, but you can’t. Not when he’s right here again, not when you thought you wouldn’t see him again. To hide your face, you start a slow walk parallel to the bookshelf and you can hear him behind you, “What brings you back here, Mr. Waley?”

“A friend of mine told me the manor was open to visitors,” he says, following you close, “He wanted to see it. I’m just accompanying him.”

You pause for a moment, looking over your shoulder. And in a bold move, that leaves your heart pounding inside your chest, you say,

“So you’re not here to see me?”

It brings a wide smile to Ezra’s lips as he looks away from you, laughing softly. Then, he leans in, caging you with his body.

“You’re such a naive little bird,” he tells you, voice low and raspy, “Why else do you think I would come back here?”

A moment of silence hangs between you two, a moment where you lean back on the bookshelf, the hardwood digging on your back. He looks at you through eyelashes and the sight makes your heart palpitate as you lean towards him, slowly closing the distance between you two. Ezra leans in too, his breath fanning on your face and his nose touching yours. Your lips barely brush against his when a voice interrupts the both of you.

The governess speaks, telling Ezra the library is closed to visitors. She completely ignores the way you and he jump, taking a step away from each other. You feel your cheeks grow warm and look away from him as he nods to the governess.

“My apologies.” He clears his throat, then bows his head to you, “If you’ll excuse me, miss.”

You want to tell him to stay, but no sound comes out of your mouth when you open it; your heart still beats strongly inside your ribcage as you watch him leave, a disappointed sigh escaping your lips.

…

But it seems like your Aphrodite started granting wishes after all. For a fortnight after you saw Ezra for a second time, he shows up at the manor with a friend once more. You find him as you walk into the family room, a complaint about your sister dying on your lips when you see him; Ezra immediately stands up and greets you, mumbling your name and bowing before you. The gentleman with him does the same but your eyes never leave Ezra.

“My dear daughter,” your father says when you burst the door open, “I suppose you know Mr. Waley.” He gestures to the men before you. You feel your cheeks burn and you look down, nodding and giving them a small curtsey, “And this is Mr. Lawrence. They’re in town for business and they’ll join us for dinner this evening.” Your father ignores the way your eyes keep returning their gaze to Ezra, “Would you fetch your sister for me? I want her to have a proper introduction to Mr. Lawrence.”

With a curt nod and no words, you leave the room quickly, but not before sparing a glance at Ezra once more. Your heart beats so heavily inside your chest that you have to pause at your sister’s room’s door and take a deep breath. Swallowing your laugh and biting down the smile that tugs your lips, you knock on the door.

“Come in.” The young innocent voice of your sister echoes inside the room and you open the door to see her painting on a canvas, red and blue paint smeared on her cheek as she looks at the bowl of fruits on a small table in front of her. Your sister is a girl with many talents and painting is just one of them. Sometimes you get jealous of her abilities, even when you’re not supposed to.

“Father wants to see you in the family room,” you tell her with a weak, trembling voice. She looks at you with a frown between her brows and immediately puts her art supplies down. 

“What’s happened?” She asks, reaching behind her to untie the apron on her body.

“Nothing’s happened,” you lie, your brows softly furrowed.

“I’ve never seen you so agitated,” she comments as she walks past you, “Has mother been yelling at you again?”

Unfortunately, one of your sister’s talents is knowing you too well. While you both aren’t best friends, you still are sisters and, sometimes, she would surprise you with how observant she was. Your stomach twists as you walk with her back to the family room, the mere sight of Ezra has made you all flustered and you don’t like it at all.

“Wait.” You grab her arm and turn her towards you as you both stop at the door of the room where your father and the other gentlemen are. You lick your thumb, then presses on her cheek, cleaning the paint smudge from her skin. Ignoring as she grimaces, you huff softly, “You can’t appear in front of Mr. Waley and Mr. Lawrence with a dirty face.”

“Mr. Waley?” She smiles, giving you a knowing look, “The man you danced with at the ball, you mean?”

Freezing your movements, you look sternly at her, “Not a word about it.”

She just laughs as you knock on the door and opens it again, meeting the same men you met before. As your father introduces your sister, your eyes are glued on Ezra again. Does he remember the almost kiss in your library? Does he regret it? Does he want more?

The questions keep hammering in your head the entire evening, even when you sit across him at the dinner table, quietly slurping your soup. The tension in the air is palpable, even with your mother’s glares and your father’s soothing voice as he tries to entertain the guests. You find out that Ezra is staying in town for another month or two, depending on how he’ll close the deal with the new company. Ezra is not paying attention to one word as he’s immersed in the sight of you. You had changed your clothing to your dinner gown and he didn’t think you’d look more beautiful than you already are. But you keep surprising him each time. He hasn’t spoken a word directed to you yet, only stolen shy smiles from you, but it is you who speaks with him first, surprising everyone in the table, including yourself.

“Did you have a good tour of the manor, Mr. Waley?”

Ezra is taken aback for a moment but then clears his throat and nods, flashing a bright smile at you.

“Yes, I did.” He fights the urge to call you little bird in front of your family, something he never thought would make him physically squirm on his seat. All you do is nod at him and smile shyly again and no other word is spoken between you two during dinner.

…

The condensation of your breath is a contrast in the darkness of the night as you make your way towards the middle of the maze, the walls of grass looking taller than they are in daylight. You hold the skirts of your thin nightgown, trembling with the cold and cursing at yourself for forgetting to bring a coat with you. The excitement of dining with Ezra is still running in your veins.

When the dinner was over and Ezra and his friends were getting ready to leave, you excused yourself for a moment, only to return out of breath, just in time to have Ezra kiss the back of your hand. What he wasn’t expecting was the small piece of paper you had dropped in his hand while he held yours and the message written on it.

Meet me at the center of the maze when the moon is high.

The message was an invitation, a plea for him to come. It was a bold move, but the fear of your mother finding out was clouded by the desire of seeing him again soon. You certainly didn’t want to spend another day without seeing him.

You breathe hard when you reach Aphrodite, the statue looking more intimidating in the light of the moon, and so the fear of rejection starts to overrun your heart. What if you read him wrongly? What if he didn’t want to come? What if your mother was right about him?

The thoughts in your head are interrupted when a twig snaps loudly in the dark of night and you whip your head, trying to find the source of the sound. For a second, your heart thumps inside your chest. Would it be him? Or maybe someone found out about your little plan and is coming to drag you back home… 

But when Ezra’s figure emerges from the darkness, a sigh escapes from your lips, relief flooding your body. He takes long steps towards you and smiles as he cups your cheeks with both hands.

“Little bird,” he whispers in the dark, “I cannot express my happiness when I read your message. I had been holding myself the entire evening– The entire week I wished to see you...”

“Ezra.” His name falls from your lips as you melt in his touch, “I could not stop thinking about you.” You confess, “When I saw you in the family room, I– I felt as if my heart would explode and I don’t know why, I don’t– I don’t know what’s wrong with me…”

Ezra smiles as you hesitantly reach for him and touch his face with delicate fingers, “I have been the same, sweet bird. Your face never leaves my mind, especially when I sleep. I dreamed of you countless times since we first met.”

His words warm your chest and you feel your stomach churn with happiness; Ezra feels himself leaning his face towards you and gently pressing his lips on yours. The touch is so light weighted as if he’s testing the waters with you, giving you space to pull back if you wanted. But you don’t. As soon as he pulls back, you lean in and kiss him again. His thumbs brush on your cheeks as your fingertips travel through his facial hair.

The feeling is almost overwhelming. It takes over your entire body and it makes your legs shake a bit, but you don’t mind. All you care about is the feeling of being in Ezra’s arms, his lips on yours, the warmth of his body on yours…

Ezra whispers your name when he pulls away again, and you beam at him, your delicate fingers gently holding his wrists. When he lets go of your face, you feel the chill of the night air.

“My mother will not like this.” You laugh softly, still not believing you're here with him.

He furrows his brows and looks around, as if he's searching for something.

“I don't see her around,” he tells you, playfully shrugging. The laugh you let out is a little louder this time and you quickly quiet yourself, bringing a hand to your mouth. Ezra gently pulls your hand away and brushes a thumb on your lower lip. An unfamiliar feeling bubbles in your core, making your head spin and your heart beat furiously.

Ezra kisses your lips one more time and the word is on the tip of your tongue, but you can’t quite tell what it is.

… 

The next three weeks are summed up with clandestine meetings, stolen kisses, and quiet laughter. You feel like you know Ezra more than anyone else, which is something new to you. You've never felt like this about anyone ever and it excites you and scares you at the same time.

Then, one night, the sun hasn’t risen yet as you return to the manor, after your time in the maze with him, you run into one of the maids on your way to your room.

"Forgive me, Miss,” she says, offering you a curtsey, “I didn't think you'd be awake.”

“It's alright,” you assure her with a soft smile, and nodding at her as you walk away.

“Miss?” The maid's voice makes you stop your tracks and look back at her. Her pale cheeks were red and her hands fidget with the hem of her apron. You frown, approaching her, ready to ask her what was wrong when she speaks again, “You should be more careful with that man.”

You feel your heart skip a beat and your hands tremble. How does she know? Have you not been careful?

"I-I– You–” You stutter, feeling heat creeping on her face, “W-what man?"

“Mr. Waley. He's not a good suitor, from what I heard.”

“Mr. Wal–” You swallow hard, feeling like a young child who was caught disobeying the governess orders, “I wasn't– I was at the library,” you quickly lie, “I haven't been able to sleep lately, so…”

That's when the pink shade of her cheeks turns to red, “Miss… The gardens are not that private as they seem.”

Your breath gets caught on your throat, you feel like your face is on fire, “Please don't tell anyone…”

“I won't. But I have to warn you… The majority of the staff already know. Gossip runs fast here.” She laughs awkwardly, a sympathetic look on her face. You bring a hand to your face and widen your eyes. You don't blame the staff for gossiping, it’s only natural that they talk about the people they work for, “Miss, I may not be in the position to tell you this, but… As soon as word gets to the governess, she'll…”

She didn't have to finish the sentence, because you know. You know what will happen if the governess learns about you and Ezra. She'll tell your mother.

“Yes,” you say, straightening your back and giving her an assuring look, “Thank you for telling me. Now, please get some sleep, it is too early to start the day.”

“Thank you, miss.”

You know you still have some hours to sleep before you have to get up to do your duties, but you can’t sleep after what the maid told you. Somehow, you’ve always known your furtive meetings with Ezra wouldn’t last long. The past week has been like paradise, his nocturnal affirmations only fueled the feeling inside you and the more you spent time with him, the more you wanted to spend time with him.

And you’ve never wanted to spend time with anyone. The certainty that being alone was what you liked the most is slowly being dissolved by Ezra, like sugar in a cup of water.

But now, you have a weird feeling knowing that your mother might find out about it. It’s not like she’ll forbid you to see him, but you’ll never hear the end of it. And keeping the secrecy of your relationship with him has been so calm and quiet. You’re not sure you’re ready to let that go.

A sigh escapes your lips as you turn on your bed one more time, closing your eyes and trying to get some sleep.

…

That same night, you meet Ezra in the middle of the maze again, trying not to think about what the staff will think. You don’t mind. You’re certain you care about Ezra, those few encounters you had with him felt magical. As long as you’re with him, nothing else matters. Let them talk.

The look on Ezra’s face is different when he finds you, but he beams when he looks at you.

“My sweet little bird,” he murmurs, taking your hand and pressing his lips on the back of it, “You are balm for my soul.”

“Ezra,” you whisper, forcing a smile. You try to keep appearances, but you’ve never been a good actress. Besides, Ezra already knows you enough to distinguish your emotions, even if you try to fake it.

“Something’s happened.” It isn’t a question, he already knows something is up.

You remain in silence as you take his hand and guide him out of the maze, through the other way out. Ezra has a confused look on his face, but he complies as you take him to another of your private gardens, where you hope no one would see the both of you. 

“All of them know about us,” you tell him when you’re certain you’re alone with him.

“All of them?” Ezra brushes his knuckles on your cheek gently, trying to soothe your nerves.

“All of the staff,” you explain, “We can’t meet at the maze anymore.”

He looks at you in silence for a moment and you think something is wrong, but the question has been on your mind all day long and when you see it, you’re already speaking before he could say anything.

“A maiden advised me to stay away from you.” You barely recognize your voice, “She’s not the first one to do so.”

Ezra looks away and releases the grip on your face, taking a step back. His semblance looks defeated as if you touched on a sensitive topic.

“I have done many things I regret in the past,” he says, eyes still on the ground, “I believe what they say about me is true. Back then, I was filled with rage and greed and– All I can tell you is that I’m a changed man now. And I– I can only wish you, in such grace, will still have me, little bird.”

A beat of silence hangs in the air. You look at him and feel the urge to touch him, to comfort him.

“My father says you’re a good man, though.”

At that, Ezra looks up at you, eyes gleaming with hope.

“And I chose to believe him. Ezra, I do not care what you’ve done in the past. Who we were does not matter anymore. And I–”

You stop yourself, unsure of the feeling you want to express. It’s unfamiliar but pleasant and it makes you feel light on your feet, wishing you could see him every day of your life. Then, the penny drops and by the time you realize you’re in love with him, Ezra approaches you quickly and crashes his lips on yours and an urgent feeling takes over you. 

Suddenly, all you want to do is touch him, kiss him, be with him in every way possible. Your head spins as Ezra backs you up to the nearest tree, pressing you against the bark and trailing kisses on your jawline and neck. You feel a strange sensation growing in your lower belly, making your core pulse with need and desire. The hands seem to have a life on their own as they make their way to the back of his neck, your delicate fingers tangling on his dark locks.

“Ezra!” You gasp, the air leaving your lungs when his teeth make contact with your skin.

Then, Ezra stops and touches his forehead on yours, letting out a quiet sigh as you both catch your breaths, chests rising and falling as they touch.

“Forgive me, little bird,” he whispers, eyes closed as if he’s holding himself back.

“What for?” Worry is explicit in your expression, your hand touching a cheek of his.

He hesitates for a moment, opening his eyes and looking right into yours. His hand covers yours, the one touching his face, and he brings your knuckles to his lips before pressing it against his chest. When he speaks, you feel his chest rumbling with his voice.

“I’m leaving in three days.”

The statement takes the breath out of your lungs. You open your mouth to say something, but your head is still processing the news. It’s as if something broke inside you and it hurts, making your stomach twist in a strange pain.

“So soon?” Your voice is the tiniest whisper ever. Although you’ve spent weeks meeting each other, it still feels like the time spent together was a mere day.

“I was in town in business. And business is done,” he says as you look away, tears already watering your eyes.

“Oh.”

For a second, you’re tempted to think your mother and everyone else were right. The heartbreak of his departure blinds you from the man you claim to know so well, but you choose to not let it affect you. Ezra is a good man, you don’t care what other people say. They don’t know him as you do.

Your thoughts are interrupted when Ezra gently places something on the palm of your hand. It’s a simple chain, with a small green rock in a pendant.

“This is an emerald,” he says, voice soft as you look at the necklace through tears, “It is known as a symbol of truth and love and it’s said to be the gemstone of the goddess–”

“Aphrodite,” you whisper quietly, eyes still on the beautiful green gemstone.

“Yes.” Ezra takes the necklace from your hands and helps you put it on. Your eyes don’t leave his as he clasps the piece of jewelry behind your neck, his large hands brushing the skin there.

“It’s beautiful,” you say when you remember to thank him for the gift. But the tears are still there, threatening to fall from your eyes, “Ezra… Please, don’t go.”

The request leaves your lips softly, a pleading look on your face makes Ezra’s smile fall from his face. Holding your hands tightly in his, he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a moment.

“Little bird, I need to ask you a question that might be unfair to you, but it has been distressing my mind since I’ve learned of my departure.”

Suddenly, your heart starts hammering inside your chest with the suspense Ezra creates between you too. You squeeze his hands, silently encouraging him to keep talking.

“Before I do, however, I want you to think before giving me an answer. Please, don’t say anything you might regret later.”

“Ezra.” You choke out, “Why are you being so cryptic? Say what you mean already.”

A ghost of a smile tugs at Ezra’s lips before he says it.

“Come with me. I know it might be too soon but…”

Your eyes light up instantly at the proposal. You want to say yes immediately, you don’t have to think twice to give him an answer. You’d go with him in a heartbeat. Still, you bite down a smile which gets impossible at his next words.

“I-I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m rapidly falling in love with you. There’s not a day where I don’t think about you, about us and I– I know this feeling all too well.”

A pause hangs between you two as you process again what he said. Ezra is full of surprises tonight, and he doesn’t expect you to accept his love or his proposal, but when you lunge yourself forwards, wrapping your arms around him and planting a kiss on his lips, he knows your feelings are reciprocated.

“I-I feel the same, Ezra, I–” A breath escaped your lips, “I have been trying to put a name on it, but for some reason, I could not… But now I know.”

The smile that brightens his face makes you smile too and, for a moment, there’s nothing in the world you care about besides this moment. You and him, in each other’s arms, forgetting about the world around you for just one night. If it were up to you, you’d leave with him right now, in the middle of the night, barefoot in your nightgown. You’d go anywhere, as long as he’s with you.

“Will you think about my proposition?” He asks once you’ve both pulled away.

You smile at him, “I already know the answer. I would go anywhere with you, Ezra.”

Ezra was quiet for a moment, holding back his excitement from you, “Would you leave your family, and everything you have here, just to be with me?”

Standing on the tip of your toes, you press a light kiss on his lips, then another on his cheek.

“I have nothing here,” you whisper in his ear and brush your lips on his earlobe, “Not without you.”

“Little bird.” He shudders under your touch, the breath he exhales comes out shaky and nervous, but he puts his hands on your shoulders and looks right into your eyes, “You have your family here. Your home. You can not just give everything up for me. Did you forget about what people say about me?”

A silent pause hangs between the two of you as you think about what he said. You know he wants you to go with him, but he also has his insecurities and the lack of faith in himself makes you want him even more.

“Do you want to know what I wished Aphrodite when I was little?” You say, breaking the excruciating silence. Ezra looks up at you, waiting for your answer, “Someone who loved me. For who I am, not– Not for my name or not for my parents or the money they have. I wished for someone who truly loved me.” You can see Ezra’s misty eyes in the moonlight as you speak, “I know it’s stupid and childish, but I–” You shake your head, then smile, cupping his cheeks with your hands, “But then I met you and, although you did not make the best first impression, I still fell for you. Ezra, I love you.”

Ezra exhales softly, closing his eyes and leaning to your touch.

“I love you too, little bird.”

“Then, let’s run away.” You smile at him, brushing your thumbs on your cheeks. Ezra smiles back and suddenly hugs your waist and brings you close to him, wrapping you in a tight hug that makes the air in your lungs escape.

“Let’s run away, little bird.”

…

The plan was simple. By midnight of the next day, you’d dress up and meet Ezra in the back of the house, where a carriage would be waiting. He instructed you not to bring much with you, only the essentials, so you pulled an old, smaller chest that you used to use when traveling as a little kid from the closet and chose some clothing you’ll need for the trip. Ezra told you he’d buy you a thousand dresses when you get home.

Home. The thought of having a home with Ezra warms your heart and it makes your stomach bubble with excitement.

You spend the entire day trembling with anxiety, trying to hide your secret as best as you can, and abstaining to socialize with your family. Maybe it is insensitive, you realize at lunch, to avoid them when you’re leaving to probably never see them again, but keeping secrets is not one of your talents.

In the afternoon, you write a letter to your sister, explaining why you’d leave and that you’d write whenever you can. You hope she understands. Despite what people might think, you are not enemies with her, she’s your sister after all and you love her dearly.

When the time comes, you bid goodnight to your parents, taking a moment to look at them one last time. Your mother, mad about something your father told her, dismisses you easily, but your father gives you a smile and nods. Tears water your eyes as you walk away from them, straight to your bedroom.

Before going to your room to play the waiting game, however, you give a pouch of coins to two guards to help you carry the chest outside when it's time to go and an extra pouch to keep their mouth shut. After that, you go to your room and sit on your bed, waiting.

There’s something about leaving a place that you’ve lived your entire life that makes your heart clench with homesickness – and you haven’t even left yet. Things like your room and your belongings you plan on leaving behind make your heart clench.

With a sigh, you close your eyes and let yourself fall on the mattress of your bed for one last night before leaving for good.

When the time comes, you hear a soft knock on your door from the two guards you paid to carry your things. You let them in, to take the chest, but before you leave, you give them instructions, saying you have something to do first. Clutching the letter in your hand, you walk to your sister’s room and shove the envelope under the door, pressing a palm on the wooden material and exhaling softly.

You wish you could knock on the door and kiss her goodbye. But you don’t have time. For now, a letter will do. You’ll write to her once you’re settled in your new home.

When you turn around to leave, you collide with someone, though. Your father.

Oh, no.

“Father–” You mumble, hands trembling, “I–”

“Save your lies, girl.” He interrupts you with a stern voice that makes you tremble, “My office. Now.”

You don’t have time for this, you have to meet Ezra in the back gardens soon. But you obey your father, following him to his office, the place where you’re sure he’ll give you a lecture and stop you from running with Ezra. You wonder how he found out. Maybe the money wasn’t enough to buy the guards’ silence.

But you’re taken off guard when you see Ezra standing in the room. Your eyes widen and your breath gets caught in your throat. Did your father find him in the gardens? Did someone tell him he was waiting for you?

“Little bird,” he mumbles quietly as you enter the room with a confused look. You can see that he wants to say more, but your father starts speaking.

“I was ready for a perfect night of sleep, after a long day in the offices, after all, it’s all a working man wishes, but imagine my luck when none other than Mr. Ezra Waley showed up at the manor telling me about a plan to elope with my eldest daughter.”

Your eyes widen and your gaze turns to Ezra, a confused look in your eyes. It couldn’t be. Ezra wouldn’t betray you like this, he couldn’t. But as the guilty look falls on his face you realize it’s true. Ezra told you off. Your heart clenches at the thought of it.

What changed? He told you he loved you… Was it a lie or he simply just changed his mind? Maybe your mother was right after all.

“Tell me, daughter, is this true?” Your father asks and it takes a minute for you to return your gaze to him, eyes filled with tears.

“Yes.” A weak sound you don’t recognize as your voice leaves your lips, “Yes, it is.”

A silence hangs in the room as your father leans back on his chair, watching your eyes glimmering with tears. He knows you well, he knows you have things to say, so he’ll sit and wait until you say what’s in your mind. Ezra risks taking a look at you, pain written across his face as he sees the tears rolling down your face.

“Little bi–”

“Shut your mouth.” The words drip like venom from your lips, “How could you?” Your voice trembles, but you still refuse to look at him, “How could you lead me to believe you reciprocated my feelings and then betray me like this?! Break my heart into a million little pieces and stand here as nothing has happened?!”

When you finally look at him, you see the hurt in his expression. The face you adore so much scrunched in pain, eyes glossy with unshed tears.

“I–” He hesitates, aware of the authority in the room, your father, “I couldn’t let you come with me, little bird, not if it’d bring dishonor to your family.”

You feel your face fall and a frown resurges between your brows, a confused look taking over.

“While I was waiting for you at the carriage, a feeling took over me.” Ezra continues, “I couldn’t snatch from your house, from your family, not without a warning. I am true to my feelings, though. I know I love you like I’ve never loved anyone, but I must do the right thing. So I came to ask your father for his blessing. To beg for it.”

The confession makes your heart warm and a feeling of shame takes over you. You shouldn’t have doubted him or his love, you shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. Your face feels warm as you look away and meet your father’s gaze once more. The look he gives you is one you know.

In the end, it wasn’t your mother who was right. It was your father.

“Ezra…” You whisper softly.

“I would never betray you, my love.” He approaches you, reluctantly taking your hands in his, “Still, if your feeling towards me had changed in the last few minutes, I’ll understand. I’ll leave and you’ll never hear of me again.”

You feel his grip on your hands loosen and you grab them tightly, holding them in place, “No. No, Ezra, they haven’t.”

Then, you look at your father again, eyes begging in your silence, knowing he’ll understand it. The older man sighs, leaning over his wooden desk with his elbows.

“Are you sure you love him, my dear?” He asks in a soft voice, the voice he used to read you bedtime stories when you were little.

“Yes, father. As sure as I’m standing here.”

He sighs again, leaning back on the chair and lacing his hands over his stomach, “Your mother will never approve of this.”

With a pout, you make a show of looking around the room, “Well, I don’t see her around.”

Ezra’s eyes widen before he laughs softly at the stolen comeback. Even your father smiles as you say it, bold and confident. A few seconds of tension pass in silence as the oldest man in the room eyes you two, but takes a little longer staring at Ezra. It’s like they have a silent conversation with just one look before your father speaks.

“Then go.”

Your heart bursts with happiness as you show him the brightest smile you’ve ever smiled. Throwing yourself over the table, you give him a quick hug, along with a thank you and a promise that you’ll write. Ezra gives him a nod in gratitude before you grab his hand and leave the room, running and leaving your life behind.

…

The cold breeze from the night gives you shivers on your skin as you sit down on the porch stairs to appreciate the night sky. The lanterns from the wooden porch are the only source of light in the backyard of Ezra’s house – your home. You close the cloak around you tightly, trying to stop the gelid breeze to infiltrate the fabric of your clothes. Not long after you sit down, you hear footsteps behind you and, soon enough, a warm chest touching your back, long legs on the side of yours, and strong arms snaking around you.

Ezra leans his chin on your shoulder as he speaks, “And what is my lovely wife doing out here in the cold, all by herself?”

It brings a smile to your face as you lean the back of your head on his shoulder, “Just appreciating the darkness. It was a night just like this when we met.”

“Was it, now? I wouldn’t remember. Someone kept my eyes busy that night.” He teases, fingers squeezing the sides of your torso. You squeal lightly and giggle, biting your bottom lip as you look at his warm brown eyes.

“It’s been a year already,” you whisper, touching his face. The scruff on his skin tickles the palm of your hand as usual.

“Yeah?”

You nod in silence, taking in every detail of his face. A year since you met the love of your life. And several months since you ran away with him. You couldn’t be happier to wake beside the best man in the world every morning. To get to see him every day, not only in the dark, hidden from everyone. You’re truly living the dream.

“I love you, Ezra,” you tell him, sighing and closing your eyes. You clutch the little green emerald on the chain around your neck, smiling as he responds.

“I love you too, little bird.”

And you thank Aphrodite for finally granting your wish.

............

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[anime-lover-forever-1127]

Queen {Klaroline} - Chapter 1: You Brought Me Back

You Brought Me Back

*****

Disclaimer - (Cause fanfiction is tricky ground and I hope not to offend the creator of the original story and get sued)

I do not own "The Vampire Diaries", it belongs to its original creator Kevin Williamson, Julie Plec, and L. J. Smith. Nor do I own "Originals", which belongs to it's rightful creator Julie Plec, Michael Narducci, Leslie Morgenstein, Gina Girolamo. This is only a fanfiction that I was inspired to write by the original work. Please support the official release of "The Vampire Diaries" and "Originals". Most of the media - such as the art and illustrations, gifs, video's, etc. used in this fanfiction - are from the web. Thus, most of them aren't mine (because I really, really can't draw) unless mentioned. To fit the story, images are also edited by various apps and websites. So they aren't mine, just edited.

Also if you own a picture or Video that I found online, and you either want your name added, or me to take it down. Please contact me and we can talk it out. P.s. I also ask that you do not copy my work and publish it onto any other website.

If you're gonna use my idea, please ask me (If you ask nicely, I for sure, will agree). If I don't contact you within a week, then just assume I'm giving you the all clear and go for it. Just remember to credit me and the story you are getting the idea from.

Warnings: Death, Angst, Damon Bashing, Elena Bashing,

*****

Today's Special

"A flower does not use words to announce its arrival to the world; it just blooms."

~Unknown

*****

"NO!" Caroline screamed, as she watched Elena swing the stake at her mother's chest. Already knowing that no matter how fast she forced herself to run. She wouldn't be able to reach her in time.

It was as if in that single moment time slowed down. Looking back on it, it may have been possible. Her mother was an extraordinary woman, that the universe would be willing to slow itself down.

Slow down and savor the final moments Elizabeth Forbes would be on this earth.

Liz turned around, her fierce eyes softening as they took her daughter in for the final time. Giving her daughter a gentle smile, she closed them, so her child wouldn't have to watch the light fade from them.

Just like that Elena Gilbert struck the wooden stake into her chest, and Elizabeth Forbes drew her last breath in a gasp that was forcefully stolen from her far too quickly.

Ripped away, just like she was, from this world.

And then time sped up as Caroline's body shot like a bullet, throwing Elena away and catching her mother's falling body before it could hit the ground.

"No. No please. Don't go." Caroline sobbed, gently cradling her mother's cooling body to her chest.

The sight Stefan, Bonnie, and Damon walked in on was Caroline hugging her mother to her chest, having long since taken the wooden stake out, with a knocked out Elena on the side.

Instantly Damon was rushing to Elena's side. Well Stefan ran to Caroline's. Bonnie looked at the two girls, and after a moment. She knew exactly whose side she was on.

She walked up to Caroline and slowly wrapped an arm around her shoulder, helping Stefan take Liz's body from Caroline. "Hey Care, come on, let's get up ok."

Stefan nodded, "I'll take care of this. We'll get this all sorted out."

"Are you kidding me?" Damon demanded. "We need to get Elena back. Make it look like an animal attacked Liz and get it done with."

Caroline's vampire face rose to the surface, "What the hell! I'm not letting you degrade my mother's body."

Damon rolled his eyes, "She's dead Blondie. Let it go. We can't let Elena go to jail."

"She killed my mother! An animal didn't kill her, a monster did." Caroline spat at Elena.

But the doppelganger rolled her eyes, "Please. You're overreacting."

Caroline growled and lunged at Elena, but Damon came in front of her and was about to push her back when Bonnie hit him with an aneurysm spell, and Stefan gently pulled Caroline back.

This calmed Caroline down a bit. Releasing that she wouldn't sink to Elena's level. "If I see you near me again. You're dead." She growled. Before picking her mother up and flashing away.

*****

Caroline woke up that morning to the smell of food coming from her kitchen. A part of her hoped that last night wasn't anything but a nightmare.

But she knew she was wrong when she saw Stefan in front of the stove, and Bonnie sitting on the counter.

"What are you guys doing here?" She asked, imagining that they would want to be helping Elena right now, like everybody seemed to be doing.

Stefan shook his head, turning off the stove, he walked over to her. Pulling her in for a hug, he rubbed her back soothingly. "We're here for you Caroline."

"We both are." Bonnie added.

Caroline's eyes went wide, "Really?"

Bonnie looked down, embarrassed that she had put her friend in such a position that she doubted her at times like this.

'But shouldn't she?' a quiet voice in the back of her head taunted her. 'You wouldn't even make her a daylight ring when she first turned. Threatened to kill her. You don't even need an entire hand to count all the people Caroline's killed. Well Elena's a kill happy psycho who still has her ring.'

"We're here for you." Bonnie nodded. "I am standing by you. No matter what."

"Do you know what you want to do?" Stefan asked, knowing how tempting the switch would be in a time like this.

Caroline nodded. "I'm giving my mother the proper send off she deserves. And then, I'm getting out of here."

Bonnie and Stefan shared a look, and the witch turned to her best friend. "We are getting out of her." She said, emphasizing the 'we are'.

*****

Caroline spent the whole day getting the funeral ready, well she had Stefan and Bonnie call everyone and let them know.

She had just handed her mother over to the funeral home, when Damon found.

"There you are blondie. That little speech you had for your mother. Scrap it." He ordered.

Caroline paused, not sure she heard him correctly. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. I need to give the speech. Make Elena all emotional so she flips her switch." Damon nodded.

Caroline shot daggers at him with eyes, honestly wishing that she had real ones to stick into him. "No. I refuse to let YOU of all people give a speech at my mother's funeral. And there is no way I'm hell I'm letting her killer be there."

Damon rolled his eyes, "Don't be so selfish Barbie. We need to. For Elena." he reminded her. "And what do you mean by 'you of all people'?"

Caroline scoffed, almost not believing what he was saying. She slowly let her predator come out to play, making Damon flinch as the atmosphere in the room instantly changed as she slowly walked up to him so she was glaring at him in the eyes. "Now you listen here. There is no way on earth I'm letting the monster who killed her attend her funeral. And you, who fed on me. Abused me. Raped me. I am not going to give a speech at my mother's funeral. Now leave."

He quickly recovered and growled, "Why you- Don't forget. I'm older. I could shove a stake in your heart and be done with it." He said, his own vampire face appearing.

But Caroline didn't so much as flinch, instead she still had an ace up her sleeve so Damon wouldn't even think of carrying his threat out. "Oh? Have you suddenly forgotten about Klaus? What do you think he'd do to Elena if you so much as touched me. Werewolf's can be quite possessive. Hybrids? Even more so."

Damon shot a glare at her, before whooshing away.

*****

The reality of what has happened finally caught up with Caroline as her emotional exhaustion finally caught up with her.

She had just come back from her mother's funeral.

Her mother is six feet under.

Her mother is dead.

Her mother is dead...

Her mother is...

Her mother is...

Caroline began gasping for breaths even though her vampire body didn't require it.

Tears began to blur her vision, and she felt as if someone had stuck their hand into her chest, and was crushing it.

'Maybe I should just turn it off'. Caroline thought. 'No longer feel the pain. No longer feel the heart ache.'

Another part of her pulled her back from that trail, reminding her that her mother deserved to be mourned. Not something pushed away and forgotten.

Her curtains fluttered as the open window carried a gust of wind in, and along with it, a strong floral scent.

For a second Caroline thought that it must have come from outside, until she realized that the scent was far too strong for that.

She looked up with blurry eyes to find a floral arrangement on her desk. Caroline blinked away her tears and she slowly forced her body to stand and sluggishly move towards it.

The bouquet contained lilies, a representation of innocence of the departed. Tall and majestic gladiolus to show her mothers moral integrity and sincerity; and chrysanthemums to honor the way her mother lived.

It was a beautiful arraignment.

She found a card hanging on the side, and picked it up to find a single sentence that would completely change the direction her life would take.

If you ever need me, I am here for you.

It wasn't forceful or anything. But they let her know that he was there if she ever needed something, or someone.

It was a gentle reminder that she still had things to see.

To feel.

He brought her back.

"Thank you Klaus" Caroline smiled softly, kissing the card.

*****

Somewhere else, a woman wept at the loss of her best friend, well a brother felt himself nearly cave into the hole in his heart, that was left by his sister.

*****

IMPORTANT:

I've decided the gods may have been a bit much. So I'm removing them from the story entirely.

I know legacies just introduced gods. but I'm A) not even sure if I'm gonna write legacies season 4, and B), if I do, I can easily just make Caroline an honorary God. She's easily on their level. Plus, that way we can see her relationship with the gods develop.

So these are Caroline's official powers: Caroline Powers: Dragon, Vampire, Witch, Werewolf, Phoenix, Angel, Silas powers, Qetsiyah's powers, She can control the veil (bring people back), see ghosts, she can compel anyone and anything, Alpha Female

So Caroline's Family is Silas and Qetsiyah who are her aunt and uncles. Her mother was Silas' little sister, sent through time.

And I do have a plan for her father. He isn't exactly a God, but he is powerful. Here's a hint; think the opposite of god - Also there's an ability up there that wasn't there before.

(Sorry Tay, I know you really liked the idea of the Gods. But they were just a bit much for me)

I also went back and updated my Intro so it doesn't mention the Gods anymore either. This notice was mostly for the people who read the previous version of the Intro.

I've also decided there may be some... ok, a decent amount of Hope bashing in the story. I re-watched some episodes, and god I found her annoying.

But Hayley, Tyler, and Cami are all going to be definitely bashed to hell and back (the back part is mostly so I can bash them again).

Anyway,

KLAROLINE FOR LIFE BECAUSE I WILL GO DOWN WITH THIS SHIP!

[shnuggletea]

Chapter seven part two is now LIVE!

As promised, part two right after part one. No wait, even though it was super tempting. Those of you who read me know I love my cliffhangers, lol! Thanks again to @sins-week​ for hosting one of the best fandom based events. It’s so good, I have to participate! FYI: Smoots below!!

Next is Halloween! And my other fandom event that I love too much not to do!! As well as a special surprise collab that I hope you all enjoy!

Choose your den: Fanfiction (this is to part one cause part two wasn’t showing up when I posted this) AO3 or keep reading!

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Gripping tightly onto the back of his shirt, I tried to get Inuyasha to pull back. The man before us was a priest, his robes a dead giveaway. And Inuyasha was growling and panting at the man like he was a demon. But Inuyasha was the demon while the man could seriously hurt the hanyou. It was the last thing I wanted, but the wish brought us here for a reason. So when Inuyasha refused to back up, I stepped around him and in between.

“Kagome Higurashi. Nice to meet you….”

“Shichinintai. But you may call me Suikostu.”

Ripped backward, Inuyasha had his arms around me protectively, and I gripped his forearms as hard as I could. “Inuyasha, this man is a priest.”

“Oh yeah? Well, this mother fucking priest is the same man that cursed me.”

“What?”

It didn’t make sense; it wasn’t possible. But if anyone knew, it was Inuyasha, and I didn’t doubt him for a second. “Never caught a name before, but you are the spitting image. So, asshole, how are you still alive?!”

The man laughed and shook his head at the ground. “I know what you’re thinking, Inuyasha, but I’m sure if you smell me, you’ll understand.”

He held me tight, leaning over me to sniff the air. I looked at the upside-down image of Inuyasha’s jaw as he scented the air like a dog. When he stepped back, his hold on me lessened a little out of confusion, I think. “You’re…you’re not him?”

“Since I was a child, I was told you would come for me one day. And that it would be up to me whether to remove your curse.”

“Hold on a minute,” I shoved on Inuyasha’s arms and got them to unlock, “you knew? You knew he was draining his life away on wishes he should never have granted in the first place?!”

“I haven’t been alive that much longer than you, Kagome-chan. And I have no gifts that allow me to find jinni or cursed. So they have to come to me.”

“What if he died?! What if he used up all his energy before he came to you?! Do you know how many selfish humans he’s had to deal with all this time?!!”

Inuyasha’s arms locked around me again, pulling me back the short distance I had raged closer to the priest. Suikostu smiled softly at my anger as if placating a child, “I had no choice. And at least he has a kind master like you now to bring him here.”

“I’m not his master,” I spat out. I wanted it to be clear; I wasn’t like those others that had Inuyasha before.

Suikostu looked confused. “I don’t understand; how do you have Inuyasha now?”

“I don’t!”

Inuyasha took to rubbing up and down my arms, trying to calm me, and it was working. “She was a…co-master. Her brother had me first, and now a friend of hers does.”

“You refuse to be his master?” Suikostu asked.

“I was supposed to be his master, but I guess the lamp counted me as his master when my brother had him. The lamp wouldn’t work for me when I tried….”

“There’s no such thing as co-masters. Whoever rubs the lamp is the one to own the wishes.”

Inuyasha huffed above me, “then why the hell didn’t it work for her?”

Suikostu stepped back, beckoning us to follow without words. “There could be many reasons. Kagome-chan perhaps didn’t want to be your master?” That was very likely. I wanted Inuyasha out of the lamp, but I didn’t want to ‘own him’. “I was taught all about your curse, Inuyasha, so if you wanted Kagome-chan to be your master, it wouldn’t have allowed you to serve her. The point of your punishment is to serve those you cannot stand.”

Suikostu led us to an inner room of the shrine, dark reds and bright yellows covered dark mahogany. The room was dark, even with the sun shining outside. Suikostu gestured for us to sit, and Inuyasha hesitated, so I did too. But then, the hanyou pulled me down with him, keeping us so close together that our thighs touched. Suikostu slowly sat across from us, a thin square mat on the floor that spanned between us.

Silence stretched out with it, the three of us looking at one another. Until Inuyasha took a deep breath, “I’m sorry, Shichinintai-san, for not protecting your family. But I didn’t kill them.”

Suikostu nodded, “even if you did, I can’t free you from the curse, Inuyasha-san. I’m sorry.”

“Why not?!” I screamed, and Inuyasha was holding me back.

I could feel the tears that streamed down my cheeks, but I didn’t care. We’d come all this way for nothing. Used more of Inuyasha’s life force, and we had nothing else to go on from this. Suikostu looked shocked by my outburst, and so was I, but mostly, I was terrified that I’d had to watch Inuyasha drain away to nothing. The next thing I knew, I was sobbing in Inuyasha’s arms. A few heart-wrenching moments later and Suikostu spoke again, softly.

“Oh…I see. You love him.”

I tensed so hard; there was no way Inuyasha didn’t feel it. He only held me tighter, knowing I would pull away if given a chance. He didn’t give me the opportunity to refute it, continuing on the conversation as if I hadn’t just been ‘outted’. “Kagome and her brother showed me the truth. For over a century, I’d taken this punishment for a crime I thought I’d committed. I didn’t care; I wanted my life to end…until….”

“Until you met Kagome-chan?” I managed to get my face free, carefully looking at Inuyasha’s face. His cheeks were bright red as he nodded to the priest. “The fact that you didn’t commit the crime does change things….”

I pushed away from Inuyasha hard, the hanyou in a daze, so I got free, mostly. “He didn’t! I swear! And my brother and his fiancé can attest to it too. I know it may seem like I’m just….”

“Trying to save your lover?”

I coiled back at the word, and Inuyasha’s grip on my hips pulled me the rest of the way to his side, “listen, Priest, we ain’t lovers, so cut that shit out!”

Suikostu chuckled. “Forgive me, I understand the implication of the term, and I mean no harm. But, you two are in love with each other?”

Inuyasha wouldn’t look at me; he kept his glare on Suikostu. “Yeah, but it ain’t like that.”

“It doesn’t seem as if the curse has held you back, Inuyasha. Why would it matter if you broke it now that you have Kagome-chan?”

Inuyasha grew silent and didn’t answer, but I had plenty of reasons, “What if something happens to the lamp? What if something happens to me? If the lamp ends up in someone else’s hands, what could we do? Inuyasha doesn’t have infinite demonic energy, this will kill him, and I can’t…I can’t lose him!” Inuyasha was grabbing at me to pull me back and silence me, but I wasn’t done. “I’m his family, and I refuse to let him suffer this anymore. Especially for a crime, he didn’t commit!!”

My peace said; I was thrusted back into Inuyasha’s arms. A few more silent tears snuck free, and I selfishly rubbed them into Inuyasha’s chest. He was running his fingers through my hair and being so affectionate (while I sat in his lap); I wondered if his cheeks were bright red as he comforted me in front of another?

“It was explained to me that…Inuyasha was a wild monster put to a long and painful death for his crimes. They describe you as unlovable. And unforgivable. The crime you were said to commit was the cruelest and most wicked of our family tree. But if you were not responsible, then who was?”

“I haven’t the fucking foggiest,” Inuyasha’s chest rumbled under my cheek as he spoke.

“I must say, you’re nothing like I expected.” There was a moment of silence, and I dared to look; Suikostu was smiling carefully at me when I did. “Inuyasha has you to thank, Kagome. If he’d come here alone and telling me that he was innocent or changed, I never would have believed him. But you…you’ve convinced me.”

“So you can remove the curse?”

I held my breath, waiting for the answer, when Suikostu nodded, “I can and I will. But I have to prepare. You two should go and rest. I’m sure you had a very long journey to get here. Longer than many.”

Quickly, I pushed out of Inuyasha’s lap and wrapped my arms around the priest’s neck. “Thank you.” It came out as a whisper, but I had never felt more appreciative in my whole life. And I needed one more thing from the man. “May I use your phone?”

“Ug, you’ve got to be kidding me,” I got that Miroku didn’t want to spring for two rooms, but this was too much, “he couldn’t get us a double?!”

I had entered the hotel room first, the closest place with a vacancy that Miroku could find. He had gotten us a room, but it had a single queen bed in it. I supposed it was better than the tube hotels…barely. If we were in those tubes, then Inuyasha and I would have separate beds. At least, I hoped we would have in that scenario.

Inuyasha took his time entering in behind me. We hadn’t said a word since leaving the shrine, and the tension was thick. The single bed we would have to share didn’t help in the least. “I’m sorry, looks like my brother is as cheap as ever.” I sat on the edge and removed my sneakers, “Suikostu said he would need a day or two. We’ll have to make the best of things until then….”

“Kagome,” the first thing Inuyasha had said in hours, my head sprang up to face him instantly, “thank you.”

I relaxed, my muscles finally releasing the stress they’d held since we left the temple. “You’re welcome. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, Inuyasha.”

He flushed, and I felt my cheeks do the same. But he didn’t look surprised by my words, and I meant them. “And I would do anything for you. That’s why we should get Sango to make her last two wishes so you can be my master. Make your wishes before I can’t grant them anymore.”

Now I was shocked, slowly getting to my feet in a stupor. “Are you crazy? That would never work; you’d go back to your bottle in LA!”

“Her last wish should be sending us back here together then….”

“Not to mention the drain on your life span….”

“I have more than enough life left to give….”

I paced away from him, more livid than I’d ever been in my life. And that included the time Souta shaved one of my eyebrows off while I slept. “NO! There’s nothing I want more than you to have your life! There’s nothing I want more than you!”

In a blink, I was surrounded by Inuyasha. His arms were on either side of my head as he pinned me against the wall with his dark-colored eyes. “I wanted to make you happy. That’s why the lamp didn’t work. I wanted to give you everything you deserved. I wanted to make you happy….”

Inuyasha ducked his head in shame, and it only confused me. Then, grabbing his face in my hands, I forced him to look at me even with my difficulty. “I am happy. When I’m with you.”

“Marry me.” He said, staring me dead in the eyes with total seriousness.

I ducked under his arm and raced to the other side of the room. “Inuyasha…”

“You love me. And I love you….”

He was still across the room from me, but I didn’t know how long that would last. “I do love you, but Inuyasha, you’ve only had me show you kindness in your whole life. There are so many people in this world that will be just as kind. And that you don’t feel obligated to….”

“I feel nothing but want when I’m around you.”

“Of course you do,” I said, trying to keep my heart from leaping around in my chest with glee, “I was your master….”

“You were never my master,” Inuyasha turned to face me, and I struggled to breathe; he was just too beautiful, “I thought the same as you do. I thought the lamp made me want you. That it was the compulsion of the curse. But there was more to it, and you deserved my utter devotion regardless. I stayed in the lamp so long after Miroku, waiting to see if it faded, but it only grew Kagome. You were never my master, so all that I feel is real. I want you, Kagome, but I won’t touch you without at least the promise of making this real.”

“Real?”

Inuyasha’s face was turning purple, but it looked different than if he was embarrassed because his eyes were turning red too. “I won’t sully what we have with sex. I want us to get married, and I want to do it right. But all I can promise is to marry you after because I can’t wait any longer. Especially if we share a bed.”

I swallowed something thick down my throat, and my eyes unconsciously glanced at the bed. “No one…does that anymore. So you don’t have to marry me just because we…sleep together.”

Inuyasha moved closer, showing me the muscles that strained under his shirt and the fire that raged in his eyes. “Then marry me because you want to. Because I want to.”

I had to look at the floor before my body caught on fire from Inuyasha’s stare. He didn’t let me escape, appearing before me to tilt my chin back up with his claw under it. “What if you…change your mind…after?”

“I won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

Pressed not so gently against the wall, this time, Inuyasha had his entire body on me. The fire was now licking at my spine, starting in my lower belly and inner thighs. He had my hands pinned above my head, probably so I couldn’t push him away. But I wasn’t going to, not with my body turning to gooey mush from his touch and stare. “I love you, Kagome. No one else. We’re going to make love, and then when the priest frees me, he’s going to marry us. All you have to do is say ‘yes’.”

I searched his eyes, his face, looking for anything to help me understand. This felt like a joke or a sick trick. Someone like Inuyasha wasn’t supposed to love me. He was supposed to love a movie star or something: a model or stunning beauty. I was a no-one with average looks. To say I was struggling to believe it was an understatement. I had expected to free Inuyasha and him to go off to explore. Learn about love and loss all over again but eventually meet someone at his level to love. And to invite me to his wedding. I didn’t mean to fall in love with him, and I never expected him to fall in love with me. But as his unwavering stare penetrated me, it was slowly becoming clear that, somehow, Inuyasha had fallen in love with me as well.

“Yes,” I whispered, and Inuyasha’s face dropped to mine.

His lips gripped mine as if his life depended on it. He was sucking deeply on my lower lip only to switch and thrust his tongue against my mouth. I opened it for him, allowing our tongues to play. But Inuyasha, it wasn’t play for him; it was hunger.

Inuyasha had released my wrists and slid his hands down my arms until he cupped my face, holding me still while he got his fill. I tried to keep up, my mind spinning from lack of air and unable to think. Then, when it was clear I wasn’t going anywhere, his hands continued down, brushing heavily over my breasts and making me jump. He popped the button on my jeans hard, ripping it apart before thrusting dangerously sharp claws into the back of my pants. He was gripping my ass hard when I grabbed the back of his head hard in return.

With my hold on his hair, I twisted his head one way and mine the other, diving deeper into his mouth with my tongue. He struggled, trying to get my jeans off my hips while keeping his face planted to me. Finally, I let him lower to my neck, his fangs scratching along my shoulder as he worked my jeans to my thighs—my underwear going with them. Once at my knees, he gave up and worked on his jeans instead. I wrenched his face back up and grabbed his mouth again. Inuyasha had started this, and I was on fire. He would be the one to put it out; there was no escaping it now.

Inuyasha jumped and wiggled to get his jeans all the way off. Then he grabbed the back of my thighs as he stepped on the crotch of my jeans at my ankles. Lifting me, he freed me of my restraints, so I wrapped my legs around him. We stumbled for a moment after that, falling to the bed eventually. Inuyasha was under me, so I pulled my shirt off for him while I sat on top. He hastily pushed my bra up, freeing my breasts but leaving it to me to remove it all the way.

I now sat naked on top of Inuyasha.

It was a sobering moment for both of us as I tried to hide, and he tried to see. Finally, Inuyasha sat up, removing his shirt and then trying to work my arms away from my chest. When that didn’t work, he slowly kissed me. Long and sweet, the heat from before remained, but the affection had been bumped up. Inuyasha was reassuring me when I needed it the most. It had me curling my arms around his neck instead of my breasts. Inuyasha groaned when our chests pressed together. I loved the sensation of our skin together. That, and his hard chest was utterly opposite to my soft one.

Inuyasha pushed me back just enough to work his hands up and get my breasts. His thumbs brushed my nipples back and forth as if playing around. But not once had Inuyasha played; all he had was a hunger for me.

It was why his hands left my chest, moving around to my back and sliding down to my ass. He grabbed it hard, causing me to arch. His goal was met, sucking my nipple into his mouth. Now, instead of his thumb, his tongue strummed the sensitive skin.

I was hardly in my right mind; it was why I was grabbing and rubbing Inuyasha’s ears. He’d never permitted me and hadn’t wanted them touched when we first met. It was why I was sure I was now on my back with Inuyasha looming over me. His eyes were blood red, fire dancing in them that lit his purple-colored cheeks. I was taking him all in, his beautiful face and the changes to it when he disappeared. I nearly lost him if he wasn’t pressing my thighs apart until my knees pressed to the mattress.

Inuyasha didn’t want me to see him like this, so he hid his face between my legs.

“Oh god,” I choked out when his tongue lapped at my folds. His tongue dipped inside me, and I squealed. It wasn’t long before Inuyasha was using his tongue to thrust into me. I twisted, trying to get away from the intensity that was Inuyasha giving me oral. My only reprieve was when he took short breaks to lick the inside of my thighs. I felt his fangs scratch me from time to time, my thighs, my clit, the crevice between the two, but it didn’t take away from the lust being poured into me. But I needed more, tugging on his ears and whining, “Inuyasha….”

He left my crotch and laid on top of me. But he left a hand down there, softly pumping a finger in and out of me. I twisted as much as I could, trying to make him understand, but he didn’t stop, pressing his thumb against my clit and pushing it higher.

“Inuyasha…”

“I need to…prepare you.”

Inuyasha was rubbing himself on me, his cock digging into my hip through his briefs. I reached as much as I could, tugging on the remaining clothing and getting it off one of his plump cheeks. I grabbed it, pulling on him with it and rolling my hips to lessen the tension he had building around his fingers.

He fell off his perch into my neck and groaned, “Kagome….”

“I..want you,” I mumbled through my haze.

Inuyasha removed his fingers to get his briefs off, and my heart pounded with exhilaration. Then, when he fell back on me, he thrusted inside, and my whole body ignited. I still held onto his ass cheeks, gripping them as I thrusted up into him while he plunged into me again and again. It only took a few thrusts (not that I was able to count them) for me to come, feeling my body tense and then convulse with lava flooding my veins. I would be embarrassed later, screaming out “AH” so loud my throat was sore. But for now, I was too happy with the pleasure scorching through me. It put out the flames, and Inuyasha groaned loudly with me. He wanted to get me close before he put it in; he was close to coming by then.

The lack of protection between us was something else to figure out later, Inuyasha twitching his sperm deep inside me while I caught my breath. It was several minutes of silence as we panted and finished, my vagina pulsing long after the pleasure left my limbs. It was a long orgasm, and I enjoyed it more than I ever had before.

When Inuyasha pulled his face out of my neck, his ears were pressed back in submission to me. It had fear punching my lungs, and I struggled to breathe. “What’s wrong?” I somehow found the courage to ask.

“You’re bleeding.”

I was—my thighs, neck, shoulders, and a few spots on my breasts. They didn’t hurt during; they’d felt good. But now, they stung a little. And they weren’t deep; they wouldn’t scar or anything. “It’s fine. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal. This is just the beginning. You don’t know what it’s like to be with a demon. We’re possessive and crazy. I had to stop myself from hurting you with it.”

I had his face in my hands, fearful he would pull away from me with his terror showing on his face. “Inuyasha, it’s fine. Mark me all you want.”

“You’re an actress. I may not know much, but scars on your skin wouldn’t be….”

“I don’t care.”

“You will.”

Tears burned in my eyes, and I dropped all hold on the man that had only just finished making love to me. So recently, he was still inside me, but he felt miles away. “Is this you changing your mind?”

Inuyasha stopped pulling away, ducking down to rub his nose against mine. “No. Not about you, never. But about myself?”

“It won’t always be like this! It won’t always be as…intense.”

Inuyasha huffed, then brushed his lips against mine, keeping them close as he spoke to continue rubbing them together. “Yes, it will. Kagome, I will always want you this much. It sure as shit is going to take more than once to calm me down.” I thought he would make good on his promise; it seemed like he was planning to make love to me again right now. But instead, he pulled away and sat on the edge of the bed, not looking at me anymore. “But we should wait. Once was…inappropriate already. I haven’t even gotten your family’s blessing.”

I rolled my eyes and to my side, “it’s not like every guy I slept with got permission first. It doesn’t really work like that anymore.”

Yanked onto my back, red eyes and purple cheeks were back, filling my vision. “What the fuck did you just say?!”

Lacking fear of Inuyasha completely, I crossed my arms over my naked chest, wishing we’d at least gotten under the covers before we screwed so I could hide now. “Don’t give me that; I’m not your first either. That sex was far too good for you to be a virgin.”

A flush formed under his purple streaks, but the anger Inuyasha had didn’t disappear. “Yeah, but I’m not flaunting them in from of you while still laying in our soiled sheets, now am I?!”

He had a point there. “Sorry. But you were the one speaking like we ruined something. I don’t appreciate being talked to like that while still laying in our soiled sheets.”

I mocked him with the last part, but who spoke like that anymore? Inuyasha did, gripping the bedspread under me and ripping it out. I barely moved. He did it so hard and fast, like that trick with the table cloth and glassware?

Electricity sparked between our eyes, the demon and the girl he’d just screwed, staring one another down. “Does this mean we can say what we want now that I’m not laying on the sexed-up sheets?” I glanced from him to the pristine white beneath me. “Now I’m just going to bleed on these too.”

Inuyasha growled then ducked down. He was licking my wounds, the inside of my thighs and along the crevice, then my breasts, and last my shoulder up my neck. When he hovered over me, I was panting, but so was he. The fire was back; his mouth parted just enough for me to get a better look at the long fangs inside. Not that it needed to be open, they stuck out of his lips even with them closed. I reached up to run my hand along his skin. I starting at the corner of his lips to brush my palm on the rounded column of his sharp tooth.

He leaned into my touch, turning his face to make it last longer—but then pulled away, sitting on his knees between my thighs, “this is dangerous. I’ll either hurt you or keep us locked up until the priest dies of old age, waitin for us.”

I sat up on my hands, “you’re not going to do either of those things.”

His hands joined mine, leaning over me to press his forehead to mine, “I could do both.”

Using his balanced weight against him, I pushed him over with my head and then continued to push with my hands. The result was him under me, a thigh on either side of his hips with his cock tapping my ass. “Here. Now you can’t scratch me.”

I rocked back, getting his shaft under me and pressed to my folds. Inuyasha groaned loudly and unconsciously grabbed my thighs hard. It had his claws digging into my skin. “You think…my fangs are…the worst part?”

With his sharp talons breaking my skin instead of his fangs, he didn’t need to clarify. I rocked back again, and Inuyasha growled as I ripped the sheet free of the bed. I had his wrists tied with it, leaning over him to attach the other end to the headboard as best I could. With my chest in his face, Inuyasha helped himself. He licked and nibbled on my dangling breasts while I tried to focus on my work.

When I sat back, ripping my nipple from Inuyasha’s lips, I smirked down at the man now tied on the bed. “There.”

He shifted, pulling on the binding with a chuckle. “You think this’ll hold me?”

I twerked my hips, rubbing against Inuyasha in a manner that had heat spiraling through me roughly. “It will hold long enough.”

Without waiting, I reached down and put Inuyasha inside me. Sliding down him slowly, I impaled myself on his length. His head went back, and he threatened to rip the sheet around his wrists to shreds. But he didn’t, keeping his eyes closed as I started to bounce. I had my head to the ceiling as well, ignoring the bashfulness that wanted to knock me off Inuyasha’s cock to pant and moan from the continued strokes to my walls and jabs to my inner g-spot.

I couldn’t take anymore, flopping over to place my hands on Inuyasha’s chest. His eyes were on me as I ground my hips into his, rubbing my clit and pussy with his body simultaneously.

“Are you…enjoying yourself?” Inuyasha panted. I managed a nod, and he grinned, “good…I want to be…the best you’ve ever…had.”

I had to twist my head away, unable to look at him while I came. “You are…you are…you are…AH, Inuyasha…HA OH.”

The sounds of fabric ripping made it through my loud orgasm, and soon I was sitting back at an odd angle. Inuyasha held my thighs, pulling me onto him with a force that made my head spin. The back of my thighs slapped his abs, my ass like a cushion that bent back and forth. All while Inuyasha’s cock pressed hard against my shaking walls.

I fell back after that, Inuyasha’s shins under me as I arched to keep him deep. “OH, GOD!”

“Kagome!” Inuyasha growled, shaking under me as he came.

It was all over, two orgasms in less than forty minutes. Not to mention the time difference and being ‘jet-lagged’, and I shook with my exhaustion. Inuyasha was still shaking when he pulled me up and into his arms. I was limp; languid limbs refused to do as I wanted as Inuyasha cradled me to him.

We fell back to the bed, wiggling around until we faced each other comfortably. Inuyasha brushed me tenderly, running a hand through my hair and down my side to rest on my hip. I leaned into it, then him, putting my hands on his chest, and felt his heart begin to slow.

“I love you,” I whispered with my voice horse.

My lazy eyes caught the smile that grew on his thick lips. It faltered for a moment, making me wonder if the next thing he said would ruin this moment like it nearly did our first time. “My other times….” I groaned a tried to turn away before he destroyed it, but he held me still, “they were with my masters.”

“What?” I whispered again, this time in terror and anger.

“You’re not the first masters to keep me out of the lamp. A few…found me attractive. And they were lonely….”

“Oh god, Inuyasha,” I grabbed him, holding him to me so tight; if he were human, he wouldn’t be able to breathe.

He rolled into my hold, resting his head on my chest above my heart. I continued to cradle him, wanting to comfort him the only way I knew how. “I had an attachment to them. Of course, I wanted them to be happy, but that’s how I felt for all my masters. It wasn’t love; they didn’t give a shit about me. They just used me.”

I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to hear how Inuyasha was used and abused. But I had to listen to it; it was for him and not me. So when he was done, I brushed him as he had me moments ago. “I will never make you feel like that, Inuyasha.”

“I know you won’t. You never have. Because you love me, and I love you. For the first time, I know what love feels like, and I ain’t gonna let it go. I ain’t gonna let you go, Kagome.” Inuyasha placed his chin to rest between my breasts. “So when you wake up, we’ll either make love again or go see the priest. Depending on how long it takes you to recover.”

My lids felt so heavy; there was no denying my fatigue even though I wanted to stay awake and make love to Inuyasha repeatedly. The most I could do was smile at him, “I’m going to need food somewhere in there.”

[ffakc]

Pony - a Jeffrey Dean Morgan fanfiction

I’ve always wanted to write a story from JDM’s POV, especially when it comes to eating 🐱, because I imagine he’d be really good at it. I also got really lost in this when writing it and got insanely turned on, so I hope y’all feel the same way!

@negans-attagirl @happysgal @iluvneganandjamie @mrsnegan

I had grown out my beard for the newest season of The Walking Dead. Negan was going to be in prison for the next year, so I had to look the part. I also hate shaving, so this was my dream come true. I was also promoting my new movie Rampage with my buddy Dwayne. Dwayne Johnson, that is.

My gal also loved the long, grayness of it all. She had been texting me flirty things all day from the hotel room and it was absolutely driving me wild. It’s damn near impossible to do press junkets with a raging hard on.

“Reading the script, this is exactly the movie I’ve always wanted to-“ my phone pings loudly, “Aw, shit. I’m sorry, man. I meant to turn my phone on silent. Cut!” I joke and glance at the text from my Princess: I want to ride your beard like a pony, Daddy. I exhale loudly and shove my phone in my pocket.

“You good, homie?” Dwayne asks.

“Yeah, I’m fine, thanks! Just family stuff,” I reply. My pants were painfully tight in the crotch at this point. “Anyway, where were we?” I place my glasses on top of my head. “It’s just one of those classic popcorn flicks, you know?”

The interview seemed to drag on as my phone silently buzzed with filthy messages and pictures. What a dirty girl I had.

***

“What the fuck was that?” I smile at my gal. She looks adorable in my hoodie and her short shorts.

“Did I do something?” she replies, feigning innocence as she slides her legs between mine, running a finger over my lips and kissing me. My breath quavers as she moans into my mouth.

“Teasing Daddy while he’s trying to work. Bad, bad girl,” I groan as she grips my balls gently as she nibbles my neck. She reaches into her back pocket and I hear a jingling sound. A puzzled expression takes over my face, “What do you have there, Princess?”

“Since you’re going to prison for the next year,” she giggles and pulls a pair of handcuffs from behind her, “Maybe you should get used to wearing these bad boys.”

“You think you’re in charge, hm? Might I remind you who your Daddy is-“ I smirk. She grips my throat, cutting me off by making me lose my breath.

“I’m in charge tonight,” she growls. “Lay on the bed, Daddy. Flat on your back, come on,” she commands, snapping her fingers.

“Yes, Mistress,” I do as I’m told. My gal meant business. I look up at her as she walks around the bed.

“Good boy. Don’t move,” she praises. She strips her clothes, revealing a skimpy, crotchless number. I hold out my hand to pull her into a lustful kiss. “I said, ‘don’t move’. Did you not hear me?” Her stern tone sends a chill down my spine. She sucks my finger and throws my hand back on the bed. I giggle like a little kid, her dominant streak was amusing. This role reversal was going to be fun. “Is something funny, Jeffrey Dean? Take your shirt off.” I follow her orders and she grabs my arm and cuffs one hand to the headboard, then the other. She pulls my glasses off, folding them and placing them on the nightstand.

“You sound like my mother,” I smirk.

“Oh, so I’m ‘Mommy’ now?” she bites her lip, trying not to laugh and stay in character. I glance at my cuffed hands.

“What are you going to do, baby gi- I mean, Mistress?” I ask. She leans down and laps around my nipples. I suck my teeth, god that felt good.

“I’m going to make you my fuck toy tonight,” she moans in my ear. She climbs on the bed, straddling my chest. I could feel the slickness of her dripping pussy, leaving a small damp spot in my chest hair. “If it’s too much, just tap my thigh hard three times”. I felt like I was about to bust out of my jeans, but she made it clear I only existed for her pleasure. I felt more submissive than I ever have in bed with her and it was so fucking hot.

“Baby doll, I don’t think I could ever get enough of your pussy,” I moan. She inched closer to my face. My breath was hot against her inner folds, giving her chills. “I’m ready,” I murmur. She smelled utterly scrumptious. The Tommy Hilfiger perfume coupled with her salty, sweet wetness was intoxicating. She pressed my head between her deliciously thick thighs as she rocked against my mouth. I wanted so bad to squeeze her ass to bring her closer, but I wasn’t allowed.

“Jeffrey,” she whimpers my name. I’m lost in a sea of bliss. I love making her feel like the goddess she is. “Your beard feels so fucking good. Oh Daddy!” I smirk and go back to work. I circle my tongue around her clit, sucking it between my lips. She grasps my hair as my head gets squished a little tighter. I chuckle softly to myself, I know that means I’m doing my job right. I lick a stripe from her entrance to her precious jewel. “God, your gray hair drives me insane,” her hips rock faster and I try to match her movements with my mouth.

“Does it now? You love that I’m old enough to be your dad? You love with age comes,” I kiss around her drenched inner lips, “Experience. You love that I take care of you, don’t you, Princess? Daddy loves you.”

“Fuck yes, baby. Oh my god!” her thighs begin to tremble and the familiar throbbing sensation begins like a faint drumbeat from deep inside her walls. I squirm beneath her, wanting release so bad, but I’m not allowed. “Please let me cum, Jeff! Please!”

“You’re in charge, remember?”

“Jeff, I’m going to drown you in my-“

“Fucking drown me, doll. I won’t waste a single drop. God, you taste so sweet.“

“Jeffrey!” my gal screamed out as her juices soaked my beard. I lap my tongue like someone who hadn’t drank water in weeks. She shakily slides down my chest, grabbing the key from the nightstand. She unlocks the handcuffs and collapses onto my chest. I pull her into a kiss.

“Making you feel good,” I say in between kisses, “Makes me feel good. I would go wash my face, but tasting you in my mustache turns me on all over again. You sure have a yummy little treat there, sugar. I love the shit out of you.”

“I love you too,” my gal is still catching her breath.

[ruzek-halstead]

✨ ruzek-halsteads’ luke & julie masterlist ✨

upstead masterlist

multi-chapter fics:

challenge accepted

(high school au multi-fic) luke and julie go to rival high schools, but come together at a party after their latest 'friendly' match. luke starts off on the wrong foot but redeems himself by the end of the night, by inadvertently becoming julie's knight in shining armour. there's little he can do except fall head over heels after that.

midnight troubles

(high school au) a fic all about luke and julie taking on their biggest challenge yet: parenting a baby simulator.

all i want for christmas is you

(holiday university au multi fic) when julie finds herself in a situation where she needs luke to come home with her to celebrate christmas with her family, he is more than happy to oblige. too bad julie's already in love with him, and not sure when she stopped pretending.

relight that spark

(high school au multi-fic) julie molina has had nothing but a tough life. after losing both her parents early on, she was left in the care of her step-monster karen and her two step-daughters. this is the story of julie molina and her prince charming, and everything in between.

a modern day adaptation of the classic ‘cinderella’ tale; based off ‘a cinderella story’. 

i never saw you coming (and i’ll never be the same) - in progress

(grocery story au multi-fic) julie molina, a new student to uc berkeley, secures a job at a tiny, run-down grocery store, where she meets a group of people who inadvertently become some of the most important people in her life.

one-shots:

something’s brewing

(university/coffeeshop au) julie is in the middle of writing five exams in four days when a cute stranger dumps coffee all over her and she ends up crying in the middle of a university coffee shop.

the thing

(jealous luke) julie's new assignment in her music program is to write a duet with a partner. her partner? nick.

the moment

(famous sunset curve au) the most basic of fangirl fanfictions where a girl meets a famous celebrity, except in this case, julie really doesn't like luke.

misery loves company 

(living phantoms) everyone knows luke and julie are in love with each other, except them. when luke gets sick with the flu, it becomes the little push they need.

dead of night

(firealarm university au) "it’s three am, in the dead of winter, some idiot pulled/set off the fire alarm and i am being very vocal about how i’m gonna make that dumbass pay"

twitter profiles

the one that (almost) got away 

(hate to love university au) "my friend dragged me to this party and i just saw my ex - quick, make out with me"

story to tell 

(runner julie/innocent bystander luke au) "running is supposed to be good for your health except i seem to have sprained my ankle and i took you out with me i’m so sorry"

black & white

(post caleb’s curse) the one where luke writes julie a song and she finds it on accident.

step into my world

(university au) "my roommate dragged me out to this off-campus party and then immediately abandons me for the person they’ve been flirting with in class, but you ask if i want to be your partner in beer pong"

i remember it all too well 

(post season one) julie has a hard week, but luke is there with excellent cuddling abilities. 

meet me in the afterglow

(university au) “i’m so stressed out during finals that i show up to the exam in my onesie and you tell me i look cute”

you got that kind of look in your eye

(university au) you decked me in the head while you were playing soccer on campus

i found my hand is holding yours

(post season one) julie has been dealing with a persistent classmate who won’t take no for an answer, so luke accompanies her to their end-of-the-term party in hopes to get the point across. 

there’s one thing on my mind (it’s all for you)

(bookstore au) home didn't seem like home anymore for luke patterson, and so he was desperate to find a new place to write music. after an especially brutal fight with his mother, he finds himself in front of l.a. books. he isn't expecting to get much out of it, it was solely a last resort. but then he sees her, julie molina, and he ends up coming back every week just to keep seeing her.

i knew i loved you then (but you’d never know)

(bodyguard au) julie molina, pop princess taking on the world by storm, with her trusty bodyguard by her side. a short take on how luke and julie fall in love while travelling the world. 

keep telling me it gets better (but does it ever?)

(flower shop/tattoo parlour au) julie doesn't expect one of the worst days of her life to lead to the best. an alternate universe where julie is a talented tattoo artist, battling her demons and luke occasionally helps out at a flower shop because recording a demo isn't cheap. their meeting isn't the most glamorous, but it's one for the books.

social media aus: 

sparks fly 

(high school au) julie molina and luke patterson have disliked each other since he accidentally pushed her into the wave pool in second grade. fast forward to their senior year of high school when they’re paired as biology partners: the animosity is still clear and present.

warnings: fluffery, underage drinking, swearing

[cafeinthemoon]

The Home I Crave - Chapter 5

Title: The Home I Crave

Genre: Fanfiction

Pairing: Tobirama Senju x reader

Rating: teen and up

Word count: 2577

Chapter: /?

Symbols: ⭕ | ➕ | 💛 | ▶️▶️

Read the previous chapter here: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

Thanks to Mito Uzumaki’s help, you’ve learned everything you needed to know to understand the daily routine of Konoha, though you’d only start to think of it as your home when you were at your own house, managing your own tasks – or so you hoped. You still had to think of how your life under the same roof as Tobirama Senju would be, and no matter the direction your guesses in this sense would take, they all led you to the same place: whatever it was expecting you there, it shouldn’t be less than a challenge.

During those days, with the work regarding the treaty, your communication with your parents, who kept you informed about everything that was going on at the compound (to whom you had to reassure about your well being in every message even when they had a brief conversation with Mito before they left) and the moments you’ve spent with Hashirama’s wife, you have been avoiding any question on this topic, only speaking about it when you were doing something directly connected to the ceremony, such as trying your clothing while the dressmaker made the necessary adjusts and to discuss the hair style. The messages from Tobirama’s part were brief and few, always directed to his brother and only to keep him in touch about the mission in the Land of Wind.

The first and only exception was the last one, which was written to you.

You received it from the Hokage himself, who took a moment at lunch time to leave the office and bring it to you. You startled when Hashirama offered you the roll with the message guarded inside a seal like an official letter. You read the writing on the seal and recognized the category used in the correspondence between your clan and its allies, including the Senju. You have opened this type of message countless times during your work as the head’s eldest daughter.

- I mentioned in one of my letters that you know how to break this type of seal, since you did it many times while working with your father – he explained – He must have remembered this detail when he decided to send it like this.

- I see – you mumbled, looking at the seal – Well, I would never expect him to remember something that was only mentioned once.

Hashirama smiled.

- You do not know him yet, y/n-san. To be honest, I myself didn’t remember it until I saw this roll. But my brother’s brain works differently.

You were about to ask if such measure was really necessary in this type of mailing, but then you considered Hashirama’s last words. You accepted the roll from his hand and put it on a small table close to you. Using the habitual hand signs, you broke the seal; a thin column of smoke covered the roll for an instant, then disappeared to reveal a common paper sheet.

You took the letter and found a steady, verticalized calligraphy distributed in three brief paragraphs, after which you saw his name written in a slightly wider style.

This was what you read:

To my betrothed, from the … clan:

Y/n-san, since this is the first time I write to you, it is only natural to expect this letter to be one of a particular nature, in which I would express my feelings towards our engagement and the perspective of returning to Konoha to finally meet you. However, the circumstances force me to write about a different topic. I hope you understand the situation and do not take it as a sign of discontentment or disinterest from my part.

According to the plans established between me and the Hokage, my return to the village was settled for tomorrow, but an unforeseen event will require my presence in the Land of Wind for a longer period, so that my stay here will extend for more three days. I have searched for all the possible alternatives to this problem, but the best arrangement I could get was this one. Considering the distance between the Land of Wind and the Land of Fire, the time our entourage will need to organize everything before the journey home and my personal preparations for the ceremony once we are back, our wedding will be delayed in at least … days. I apologize for this inconvenience, with which I myself am displeased.

Finally, I hope we make amends for this in the name of our clans and in an act of decency as shinobi allies during our encounter. I ask you not to reply this message, both because I will not have enough time to write you an adequate response and because I will send another letter with news if necessary.

Sincerely,

Senju Tobirama

You spent a moment in silence, staring at the paper, re-reading some parts of the letter, trying to absorb the message in it and all its undertones, just like you did when you talked to Mito, during the walking at the river and when you found the portrait. Still, the difference between all those signs and this letter – the first and only time when you saw him speaking for himself – couldn’t be denied.

You must have stood there, quiet for a long time, for Hashirama came to your side and asked you about the message’s content.

- Is everything okay with him? What does he say here? You seem worried.

You blinked and raised your eyes to him.

- He says that something happened unexpectedly and he will have to stay in the Land of Wind for more three days. The ceremony’s date will have to be changed.

You passed the letter to Hashirama, so he could see for himself. His eyes would go from one side to another, passing over the lines with gravity. When he finally looked at you again, you didn’t like what you read in his eyes.

- I didn’t sent him alone on this mission because I knew that this could happen – he sighed – I know exactly what he’s talking about, and despite being a complex task, any of the people who I sent with him could stay behind and finish it. They’re perfectly capable for this. But convincing my brother to do this is something I can’t do at this distance.

He gave you the letter back and you folded the sheet with a weight in your heart. The first letter you received from your future husband and the only thing he had to say was about a delay in your encounter. Not that you were entirely surprised – he was the Hokage’s advisor, after all; he was used to have many things depending on him. But couldn’t help thinking that this would be a constant in your life together.

You didn’t say any of this to Hashirama, though. When he asked if you were okay, you just smiled.

- Guess we will have to wait and see what happens. Let’s think of this as an advantage: we will have more time to prepare things here. If we consider that we haven’t had much of it, we cannot waste this opportunity.

The Hokage nodded.

- If you say so.

Hashirama didn’t say a word about it, but it was clear that he noticed your deception, for he looked at you as if saying he couldn’t believe his brother did something like that again. You decided not to concentrate in this, doing as you yourself just said and taking the extra time to work on the preparations for the ceremony.

***

Now, the day of the wedding came, you were dressed with the emblems of your clan in evidence, your hair was done and your face was covered with the delicate makeup you chose despite the protests of the girl who was responsible for it, who affirmed from five to five minutes that a bit more of color would sett off your naturally beautiful traits, only stopping when you told her that if she kept insisting on it, you would steal the brushes from her and do your makeup yourself. To you, wearing the vibrant tones of your clan’s traditional clothing was enough to set off anything in your appearance.

During the week before the wedding, your father sent an entourage with representatives who transmitted you the respects from himself, your mother and your other relatives: according to what was establish in the meeting, your parents stood at the compound to take care of their own work beside your second and third sisters. You knew that Tobirama would arrive at Konoha just the night before, and in fact he did, for a brief message was sent from his part thanking you all for taking care of things while he was away and explaining that he would need that night and the next day all alone to prepare himself, only meeting you, his family and the representatives of your clan during the ceremony.

At the Hokage’s residence, you had a brief exchange of words with Mito and Hashirama, after which the Uzumaki explained that she was going to take you to a private room where you would wait until the groom’s arrival.

- He will see you there and will be the one to lead you to the temple – she explained; and, with a clever smile – Don’t worry about the waiting. He’s not going to get late.

You looked from Mito to Hashirama, who was smiling too, and then back to Mito.

- My brother is too attached to punctuality to let himself get late – he replied to the question you didn’t make – I bet he’s still mad about what happened in the Land of Wind.

Mito nodded to show her agreement, then turned to you.

- So, I think everything’s ready. Shall we?

You shook your head instead of verbalizing a response. Finally, it came the moment.

Hashirama wished you luck and told Mito he would be waiting for her in the Hokage’s place at the temple. He approached her and gave her a kiss on her temple; you looked away in a gesture of modesty.

When he left, Mito asked you to follow her through less used corridors in her house, until what you found out to be one of the rooms you didn’t receive permission to enter. She opened the door, stepped into it and invited you in.

The room was not as large as the door suggested while you were outside, but it had a decent size and the simple furniture was well organized. At its north side you saw a window that would go from one wall to the other, and was low enough for the glass to reach your hips; there were no curtains to cover it.

You turned to Mito and found her still at the door. You came to her, not ashamed to confess how nervous you were.

- Time will feel like an eternity if I wait here all by myself, Mito-san – you commented, holding your hands together in front of your body – But I understand you have to go.

That time, she not only had a smile to you, but a tight hug and assuring words.

- Everything will be fine, because you’ve worked hard for this, y/n-san – she whispered – It is an honor to receive you as part of the family.

- Thank you so much for this – you returned the hug.

Mito Uzumaki said she was going to join her husband and wished you the best, leaving right after. The door was closed and you were left with only yourself to rely on while you waited.

You were about to move away from the door and back to the window when your eyes caught something unusual on its polished wood. You looked closer at it and identified a pattern of signs that formed a seal. You’ve never saw that seal before, and neither you were able to tell to which category it belonged, for it was nothing like the seals you knew. Could it be a protection seal that would only allow the right people to enter the room, or something else?

You raised your hand to touch it to see if something would happen, helping you to find an answer. Your fingertips passed through the marks, but there was no texture, temperature variation or anything that asserted their existence besides the fact that you could see them, as if they were just part of the door. Maybe if you were a sensor, you could identify the presence of chakra in it, but unfortunately for you, that was out of your reach.

- This is my Hiraishin mark.

You screamed so loud that you weren’t sure if what scared you most was that deep voice speaking out of nowhere or your own with the scare. You moved away from the door to the other extremity of the room, throwing a kunai you were hiding under your sleeve at the voice’s direction, but gave up on an attack once you saw the owner of the voice – he was the man of the portrait, with his white hair and the red lines on his face, but dressed in the Senju fashion instead of the blue armor. Upon the left side of his chest, between the folded fabric of clothing, he carried a tiny, white flower. He had no difficulty to deflect the blade: he moved his head from its way, grabbing the weapon’s base with his left hand.

You spent the next instants in silence, waiting for your breath to return to its normal rhythm, just staring at him, who had his last word swallowed by your scream and gave up on whatever he was going to say after it: after approaching you and giving back your kunai, he just kept looking at you, only then understanding that his sudden appearance inside a room with its door closed would scare anyone inside it.

So, that was your betrothed. That was Tobirama Senju. It was as Mito told you: if the date she gave to the portrait was correct, he haven’t aged a day. He was almost as tall as his brother, and the paleness of his skin wasn’t just an impression produced by the lens; it was his natural tone.

He wasn’t scared or bothered by your reaction; he didn’t even startled, confirming the idea you had about his unusual self control. The only thing you noticed in him was a hint of disappointment, which was soon explained by his next words:

- As I was about to say, this is the seal of my Hiraishin – he approached the door and touched the mark – It is a teleportation jutsu that I created some years ago. I have put it here to prevent a delay in our encounter – and with a sigh – I’ve talked about this measure with my brother, so I thought you were informed about it. But as I can see, he forgot to mention it to you.

Tobirama bowed his head at you in a brief but respectful gesture.

- I apologize for my sudden entrance, as well for my brother’s lack of attention. This is far from what is expected from a decent first meeting. Now, let me introduce myself properly – and raising his hand to his chest, right below the flower – I am Tobirama from the Senju clan, the Hokage’s brother and advisor, and the representative of the Senju in this new alliance between our clans.

[lunaslethifold]

A Summer in Ottery St. Catchpole: Prologue (George Weasley x Potter!Reader)

Pairing: George Weasley x Female!Potter!Reader

Series Synopsis: Y/N Potter used to have a huge crush on George Weasley. She could hardly even function around him. Now fresh out of a long relationship, she can say with confidence that those feelings she harbored for years are gone. George, on the other hand, had barely even acknowledged her existence. But now that Y/N is more comfortable around him, he starts to see the real her. George starts to see her in a new light. Boy, is that bad news for him. 

Warnings: Mentions of death.

Word Count: ~8.4k (Sorry! Future parts probably won’t be this long.)

Find the other works in this series in my masterlist (pinned and linked in my bio :))

A/N: Welcome to my new George Weasley series about this trope! Some things to note: I made the reader female because I am more comfortable writing that. The reader is in Gryffindor because it fits better with the story. I know it can be frustrating to read something that doesn’t fit you correctly and I’m very sorry! I also decided to make the reader adopted because not everyone looks like Harry, James, or Lily. I know I certainly don’t! This series takes place the summer after Goblet of Fire and before Order of the Phoenix, and will not be following canon completely to make room for the reader. I’ve no idea how long the other parts are going to be, but they probably won’t be this lengthy as this part covers the entire backstory. This is also the first fanfiction I’ve written in years, so please let me know what you think! Sorry about any off grammar and please enjoy! Thank you for reading!

The first time George Weasley laid eyes on Y/N Potter was on the day he was set to return for his 2nd year at Hogwarts. This time around he was more confident approaching the platform than he was his first year, but that wasn't saying much. On their first ride on the train, he and Fred had already started wreaking havoc on Percy and Charlie. 

George grinned at the other people waiting around the train. In particular, the first years that looked like they were about to pass out. His eyes landed on a girl that was standing alone, almost hugging the bar on her trolley. 

He nudged Fred. "Mate, does she look familiar to you?" he said, tilting his head in the direction of the girl.

"Dunno, maybe we saw her at Diagon Alley?" Fred offered, shrugging and turning his attention back to the chocolate frog in his hand. George glanced at the girl one last time and jumped into a conversation with Ginny. 

-

The first year didn't cross George's mind again until he was sitting in the great hall watching the sorting ceremony. He wasn't paying much attention, too preoccupied with the rumbling in his stomach, until he heard Professor McGonagall call out a name he hadn't heard in a long time.

"Y/N Potter."

She wasn't nearly as famous as her brother, sure, but that didn't stop the whispers from breaking out among the students. Professor McGonagall not so subtly cleared her throat and the hall quieted as the girl that caught his eye on the platform approached the stool. That's where he had seen her! Pictures of her and her family were all over the papers after the dark lord was defeated. She was much older now, yes, but the remnants of her younger self were still present on her face. Especially her eyes, George thought, but he quickly shook it out of his mind.

Perhaps he had been the one to recognize her because he'd seen photos of her long after they were the only thing being printed in the papers. Ginny kept a stash of things related to Harry Potter in her room and he had accidentally stumbled upon it. Maybe that's why Ginny only talked to him about Harry, or maybe it's because George was the only one who stopped to listen.

The entire Weasley family was close, but the twins and Ginny got along great. That might've been due to the fact that Bill and Charlie were much older than them and many of their pranks were directed at Percy and Ron. While many people thought of Fred and George as a package deal, which they were in a sense, it seemed that Ginny was one of the only people to think of him as his own person. Somehow she recognized the differences and George appreciated that beyond what words can express. 

He'd have to write Ginny about Harry Potter's sister coming to Hogwarts. The sorting hat seemed to be having a toss up about which house Y/N belonged to. He recalled the conversation he'd had with the old hat just last year. George was a Weasley; a Gryffindor through and through. But when the hat was placed on his head, it spoke about him having Slytherin and even Ravenclaw traits. Ultimately he was placed into Gryffindor just as the rest of his family had, though.

After a couple minutes of debate the sorting hat yelled out, "Gryffindor!" Y/N looked almost relieved and joined the Gryffindor table, not too far away from George and Fred. The rest of the sorting ceremony was uneventful and soon enough (though not soon enough for the twins), the food appeared on the plates before them.

A couple of times George caught his gaze slipping towards Y/N out of curiosity. Once their eyes met, he smiled at her. She gave him a nervous smile back and quickly turned back to her food. He thought it was a bit odd but brushed it off and continued to joke with Fred and Lee.

-

Y/N and George didn't see much of each other that year. They were in different years and Y/N seemed to spend more time out of the common room than in it. Him and his brother made the quidditch team as beaters, and occasionally he'd see her in the stands. 

So no, Y/N Potter and George Weasley were not friends. He couldn't even remember if he'd spoken to her before. That year flew by just as his first year did, and then he found himself on the train back home.

Next year Ron would be joining them at Hogwarts and Charlie wouldn't be coming back. That summer was spent playing quidditch with his siblings, teasing Percy for becoming a prefect, and going down to the village near the burrow. 

-

Y/N, on the other hand, was not having a good summer like the Weasleys. She had returned to the Dursleys’, but she was beyond ecstatic to see her little brother again. When she left for her first year at Hogwarts she had felt extremely guilty for leaving Harry alone and even went as far as to write Dumbledore asking if he could come a year early. He had reassured her that he would be fine and she should take the opportunity to see the world their parents lived in. 

Harry and Y/N weren't blood related, but they knew they were real siblings regardless. Similarly, Lily and James Potter were Y/N's mom and dad, even though their blood didn't run through her. Y/N's biological mom was Lily's best friend since the moment they met on the Hogwarts Express. She clashed with Snape, but remained loyal to Lily through it all. Not long after graduating she got married to Y/N's dad due to the brewing war. Lily and James were made the godparents of Y/N and weeks after her birth, her parents and their entire family were killed by death eaters. She was taken in immediately by the Potters and assumed their last name for safety. Soon little Harry came along and Y/N became a big sister. 

Unfortunately, as Voldemort set out with the intent of killing Harry, Lily and James' attempt to keep Y/N safe was put in jeopardy. The family of four went into hiding together. They were betrayed and the dark lord came to their home in Godric's Hollow. Lily knew that he was after Harry, not Y/N, and kept her promise to Y/N's biological parents that she'd keep her safe. Y/N was shoved into the closet in her and Harry's room, along with a muffling charm to silence her cries. That night not only did she hear her father getting killed, she saw her mother die trying to protect her younger brother through the shutters on the door. She heard her mother's cries and saw an evil, evil man try to murder her brother. Even though she was only two, Y/N possesses more memories of their parents and that night than Harry does.

This resulted in Y/N becoming extremely protective of Harry. Oftentimes this would cause her to get into trouble with the Dursleys. She was Harry's fiercest protector. When an escort came to collect her for Hogwarts, both her and Harry were introduced to magic and what their parents really were. She almost didn't go because she couldn't bear the thought of Harry having to deal with their relatives without her, but she eventually agreed. An escort brought her and her luggage to platform nine and three quarters on September first, but had to rush off right after. There she stood alone with her trolley, unsure of where to go or who to talk to. She surveyed the people around and her eyes landed on a group of redheads, most of them being children. The ones that were commanding the most attention were two twin boys, one of which was fiddling with a wrapper and one who had the brightest grin she had ever seen. She stared at him for a second before rapidly looking away. What she hadn't noticed after was the boy she was staring at was now looking at her.

On the train she didn't have much luck either, meeting a few students but ultimately sitting alone in a compartment reading a book. There was no telltale sign that she was a Potter, unlike her brother, who had the scar on his forehead. At the sorting ceremony, however, people began to take notice of her when they heard her name. The sorting hat had a long conversation with her about what house she belonged in. The big argument was about Gryffindor or (house of choice), but Y/N asked to be put in Gryffindor, like her parents.

Y/N took a seat at the Gryffindor table, trying to shake off everyone talking about and looking at her. The rest of the sorting ceremony went by and soon everyone was digging into the feast. Katie Bell, a fellow first year Gryffindor, struck up a conversation with Y/N and others around her. She relaxed a little and surveyed the rest of her housemates. Her eyes unexpectedly met those of the boy who she had been staring at on the platform. His lips turned up into a smile and a wave of anxiety crashed onto the girl. She smiled shakily at him and felt her cheeks warm up. Y/N quickly turned her attention back to the food sitting on her plate, which seemed quite interesting to her at the moment.

The rest of that year passed by quicker than she liked and soon enough she was back at the Dursley household. She was happy to see Harry, but Hogwarts was now more home than Privet Drive had ever been. The only thing missing was her brother, but he was due to follow right after the summer. 

So it couldn't be going by any slower. 

Between her uncle's shouting and her summer reading, she quickly found herself wishing the break would zoom by. She thought she was used to it, but she was getting fed up with Vernon and Petunia's constant nagging.

"Clean the kitchen!"

"Set the table!"

"Dust the living room!"

"Hurry up with dinner!"

Y/N would never admit it, but quite a few times she had to put her wand out of reach when it all became too much. Especially when Harry was getting the heat. She'd much rather have all the yelling directed at her than Harry.

-

September first rolled around and Y/N was accompanied by Harry to King’s Cross. Hagrid had dropped them off and left. As they pushed their trolleys through the station, Y/N found herself quite turned around. Which platforms was it between? Which wall were they supposed to enter through? Last time her escort had to apparate her and her things onto the platform because they were running behind schedule. Now she was wishing she had paid more attention because she couldn't for the life of her find the dang entrance. 

Both of the Potter kids were growing nervous as the time ticked closer to departure. Just as it seemed all hope was lost, a familiar head, or rather heads, of red hair caught Y/N's eye. She looked at them and Harry followed her gaze. The Weasley family was moving through King’s Cross at a rapid speed. 

As they passed, Harry and Y/N heard a snippet of their conversation. "-packed with muggles-" said the oldest woman.

"Muggles?" Harry whispered, turning to his sister. "Isn't that… Well come on then!" He raced after the woman.

"Harry! Wait!" Y/N ran after him and by the time she caught up he was already talking to them. Y/N shook her head. Why couldn't Harry have just followed them onto the platform? Why'd he have to stop and talk to them? She'd never say it out loud, but Harry wasn't always the brightest when it came to things like this.

Before them stood five people, presumably all family members. An older woman, three of Y/N's housemates, and a younger boy. 

"Excuse me," Harry said to them as Y/N approached. "Dyknow how to-" he gulped and tried again. "How to-”

"Get onto the platform?" finished the woman. Harry blushed a little bit and nodded. She gave him a kind smile. "Yes, of course dear. Don't worry, it's Ron's first year too," She gestured to the younger boy that stood nearby. He half smiled at them.

Harry smiled brightly back. "I'm Harry."

"Ron Weasley." 

Then it seemed everyone turned to Y/N expectedly. Her mouth went dry and she shifted on her feet.

"And you're Y/N, right?" spoke up one of the twins. Was it Fred or George? She nodded shyly and fiddled with the hem of her shirt. Why was she nervous all of a sudden? Maybe she wasn't as outgoing as Harry, but she was never this shy.

"Well, it's nice to meet you two. Now to get onto the platform, you just run straight into the wall there. Percy, you show them," said their mom, breaking the silence. The oldest one, Percy, who Y/N recognized as three years above her, ran to the wall and disappeared through it. "See? Just like that. Now you, Fred."

"He's not Fred, I am!" said the twin who spoke earlier. Ah, so Fred had introduced Y/N.

"Honestly woman, you call yourself our mother," said the other twin.

"Oh! Sorry George." She beckoned him forward.

He walked forward and spoke again. "'I’m only joking, I am Fred." Fred smiled and ran through the wall. Oh, so it was George that had introduced Y/N after all.

"Can I go next, mum?" said Ron.

"Yes, and Harry, why don't you go with him?" she replied. Ron and Harry ran towards the wall. Something small slipped off Ron's trolley without him knowing. 

"Ron!" his mother called, picking it up and running after him through the passage. Now it was just George and Y/N.

"Did you really not know how to get onto the platform? Or did you just want an excuse to talk to me?" he laughed and grinned at her.

Y/N felt heat rush to her cheeks. "Erm… I-" she cleared her throat. "Last year my escort apparated me onto the platform," She looked at her shoes.

His smile didn't falter at her awkwardness. "Ah, that explains it. Well, have a go at the platform then." 

-

George and Y/N saw a little bit more of each other during Harry and Ron's first year. Often she could be found talking with Harry, Ron, and even Hermione around the fire. He could tell that they had a really close relationship. 

Sometimes they'd be hanging out or sitting with the same group, but only because of their siblings or Katie Bell, Y/N's friend, who was now on the quidditch team along with Harry. He started to see Y/N in the stands during games much more often now, probably because her brother and friend were playing.

George thought Y/N was, well, a bit odd. She was awkward, much more than her brother who got on quite well with him and his twin. She always seemed to be tripping over her words and fidgeting when he saw her. But she was the same way her first year, so he just boiled it down to her being shy.

The first time since Y/N's sorting that George thought about her for more than a few fleeting seconds was at the end of that year. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had returned after stopping Professor Quirrel from getting his hands on the Sorcerer's Stone. Percy, Fred, George, and Y/N were all summoned to the hospital wing when they returned.

Y/N looked utterly distressed. She even began to walk ahead of them on the way. When they reached the hospital wing, she bolted straight for Harry on the other side of the room. She hugged him and whispered a conversation with him. Harry had smiled and seemed to reassure her. 

Then, before him and his brothers even had a chance to step forward, Y/N turned towards his brother. "Oh, Ron!" she exclaimed and then pulled him into a hug, just like the one she had given Harry. Then she took his face in her hands and tried to look him over. "Are you alright?" Ron nodded and smiled at her. Y/N let go and rushed to Hermione's side.

George was taken by surprise. Sure, Harry was Y/N's brother, but she seemed just as concerned about his brother's wellbeing and Hermione's. He'd have to ask Ron about it later. George smiled, shook his head, and approached Ron's bed.

-

Just as the previous summer, Y/N and now Harry went back to their Aunt and Uncle's. Harry and Y/N had gotten into big trouble when Dobby the house elf came to visit. Uncle Vernon was so angry that he put bars on their shared bedroom window and forbade them from returning to Hogwarts. Luckily for them, a certain family of redheads came to the rescue. 

While they were up late talking in their bedroom, they heard something out of their window. Outside was a flying Ford Angelina, driven by Fred Weasley, with his brothers George and Ron sitting in the car. They ripped the bars out of their place on the wall and pulled up to the window.

"Ron!" Harry smiled widely at him. Y/N couldn't stop the grin that grew on her face. "What are you doing here?"

"We've come to rescue you, of course! Now c'mon and get your trunks," Ron replied. The two Potter siblings heaved their trunks into the car through the window. As Harry handed Hedwig's cage to Ron, Y/N heard stirring from the other side of the house. 

"Harry, hurry. I hear Uncle Vernon," she spoke calmly, but there was a panicked expression on her face. "Go on, you first."

Harry began to climb out of the window and into the car with Y/N's assistance. Just as Harry was safely inside, Uncle Vernon barged into the room.

"Y/N!" Harry shouted, pointing at their uncle. Her eyes widened and she not so carefully leaped out of the window and towards the car. She caught onto someone trying to help her in, but she didn't have time to process who it was because Uncle Vernon's hand had enclosed around her ankle. She kicked her leg and tried to heave herself up, but the grip was tight on her leg.

"Let go, you tosser!" called out the person she was clinging to. She kicked hard one last time, and while his grip faltered, she pulled herself up by the person she was clinging to. The door slammed shut and she found herself face to face with one of the Weasley twins. Ron and the other twin were in the front seat, while she and Harry were sat on either side of the twin in the backseat. Y/N felt heat rise to her cheeks and she let go of him. 

"Fred, you're going the wrong way," said the twin, George, next to her. Fred turned the car around. Ron and Harry had already jumped into a rather animated conversation. 

Y/N cleared her throat nervously, then spoke up. "Thank you. For saving Harry... er, us."

"It was nothing, really," said Fred, cracking a smile. 

"Yeah, someone had to. I mean, they've got bars on your window. Your uncle must be mad," George said. Y/N laughed. Never had she heard anyone but her and Harry speak bad about Uncle Vernon. 

The rest of the ride was spent making conversation with the twins, but Fred did most of the talking. Soon they landed at their family home and went inside. The five of them were caught by Molly Weasley, who gave Harry and Y/N a warm hug.

Their trunks were lugged inside. While Mrs. Weasley was scolding her children, Y/N rushed to hers and opened it. She pulled out a box wrapped in newspaper and handed it to Harry. "Happy birthday, Harry. Sorry it's not anything special, but when we go back to Diagon Alley we can get something better," she smiled at him. 

He smiled back and said, "Thank you Y/N, and I know whatever it is, it's brilliant." He unwrapped the paper to reveal a pair of red and yellow gloves that matched his scarf perfectly. "Did you- did you make these?"

Y/N smiled bashfully and nodded. "'S alright if you don't like them, but I saw the leftover yarn when I was doing laundry and-"

"Y/N," he cut her off. "Thank you. I love them. They're perfect." Y/N smiled widely and pulled Harry in for a hug. What the two didn't see was the Weasley family watching the exchange. 

Mrs. Weasley smiled warmly. "Now who wants breakfast?"

-

For the rest of that summer Y/N bunked with Ginny Weasley. Although she acted a little starstruck at first, they were fast friends. Even though she could talk to Y/N, she still hadn't spoken a word to Harry. Before long the nine of them had to head to Diagon Alley to get ready for the upcoming school year. Ginny was starting her first year, Harry his second, Y/N her third, and the twins their fourth.

While they were shopping for books at Flourish and Blotts they ran into Draco Malfoy. He didn't skip a beat before immediately insulting all of them.

"And what, Potter number one has nothing to say this time? Nervous around your boyfriend?" said Draco to Y/N, gesturing vaguely to the Weasleys standing nearby. "I wouldn't be surprised. They're blood traitors just like your 'father' was." He put air quotes around father. "But I suppose after marrying a muggle's child, he'd let anyone into his family, if you could even call it that." Y/N took a menacing step forward, then felt someone step up to her side. 

"Malfoy, you have no idea what real family is," one of the twins said, standing to her left. She turned and the "G" stitched on his sweater stared back at her. Fred joined him. 

"Yeah, Malfoy. Harry and Y/N are more family than all of your relatives combined," Fred said from his spot next to George. 

"What's that supposed to mean, weasel?" Draco crossed his arms.

"Well I don't reckon Lucius Malfoy is very loving to his son," George shot back. Y/N's jaw dropped to the floor. 

"How d-" Draco began, before his father came up to the group. The rest of the conversation passed by in a blur for Y/N. As they continued on getting their school supplies, she found herself glancing at George and getting deeply nervous when he was around her.

Oh no, she thought. Y/N Potter was developing a crush on George Weasley.

-

Throughout her third year, Y/N avoided George as much as she possibly could. She thought that if she avoided him, her feelings would go away. Unfortunately for her, since they were in the same house and shared some of the same friends, this was proving to be extremely difficult.

So, yeah, George saw less of Y/N than he should have. Not that he noticed, of course. She was more of Ginny's pal and Harry's sister than his friend. But at the end of the year she proved she was someone that would be sticking around.

When Ginny had gone missing, Y/N was extremely upset. Harry could see it, Ron could see it, and even George (who didn't pay her much attention) could see it. But even feeling that way, she made sure to comfort the Weasleys. Even Percy, who had spoken to her the least out of all of them. 

Then, when Harry, Ron, and Ginny returned from the chamber, she practically sprinted to the hospital wing. Just like last year, she ran to Harry's side and made sure he was ok. Then, she turned to Ginny, who it seemed everyone had turned against, and hugged her. Ginny looked relieved that finally someone wasn't scolding her for what happened to her.

George smiled gratefully at Y/N, then started talking to Ron.

-

Y/N and Harry were staying at the Leaky Cauldron the summer before her fourth year. They had left Privet Drive after an unfortunate incident involving their Aunt Marge and escaped on the knight bus. There they ran into the Weasley family, who had just returned from Egypt.

"And after we got there-" Y/N was sitting and listening intently to Ron, who was recounting his trip to Egypt.

"Goodness Ron, how many people are you going to tell about it?" interrupted Fred, walking down the stairs. 

"What? I've barely told anyone, George," Ron replied, glaring at him.

"Actually, I'm George," came a voice from someone who was descending the stairs. Y/N suddenly found the newspaper in front of her very interesting. Fred glanced at her. "And I reckon Y/N's got better things to do than listen to you talk about some dusty old buildings." 

Y/N felt blood rushing to her cheeks and bit her lip. While Ron and George continued to bicker, a wide grin made its way onto Fred's face. He looked between Y/N and George. Fred had noticed something off about them and he had finally figured it out.

Fred Weasley knew Y/N's secret.

-

"Detention, Miss Potter," Professor Snape's voice called out. She tried to stay out of trouble, but it seemed that Snape had a particular dislike for her. She groaned inwardly and bit her tongue. "My office after dinner." Y/N suppressed the urge to roll her eyes and nodded.

After classes, Y/N found her way to Professor Lupin's office. He was sort of like her newly appointed godfather after she was adopted by James and Lily. Her and Harry spent a lot of time with him. 

"-And Snape's given me another detention. I swear he's got it out for me, Professor," she said to him. Lupin laughed and shook his head. "It can't be fair, can it? I mean, I'm a good student."

"That you are, Y/N. But did you ever stop to consider that Professor Snape was not having the best day? Or other students were putting him on edge as well?" he replied, going through the papers on his desk.

"Well, maybe." She paused. "But I swear he's been like this since first year. It's almost as if he's mad at me for something I didn't do. Like I was cursed from birth," she said jokingly. Lupin smiled as if he knew something she didn't. He opened his mouth to reply, but seemed to decide against it. Just then, the door to the office was opened.

Harry was standing in the entrance. "There you are, Y/N. I thought I'd find you here."

"Harry, what's up?" Y/N said to him, smiling slightly.

"Dinner is nearly done and you hadn't shown up, so I thought I'd see what you were doing," he replied.

Y/N shot up from her seat. "Dinner's almost done!?" She began to gather up her things. "Dang it, I forgot I had to go to Snape's right after dinner. I better get going then. Bye Professor. Harry. Thank you!" She waved as she rushed out of the room. 

Y/N sprinted down to the dungeons and turned the corner, checking her watch. She should've been there already. Since she wasn't watching where she was going, she smacked straight into someone. She slowly looked up and her eyes met cold ones.

"Miss Potter, it is probably useful to look where you are going when you're running. Although I suppose silly things like that aren't important to someone who is late to detention," Snape's monotone voice said. Behind him stood Fred and George. One of them stepped forward and helped her up. "Well, since Mr. Weasley is so keen on helping you, Miss Potter, he will be joining you in reorganizing the potion supplies." The one who helped her up groaned. "Alphabetically," he added. The other twin moved to join them. "You, Mr. Weasley, on the other hand, will be cleaning the trophy room and I will be accompanying you. You can't possibly think I'd trust you two alone. Now run along. I'll be checking on you in an hour." 

Y/N didn't have to be told twice and started towards the supply room.

"I'm Fred by the way," said the twin beside her.

She nodded. "Ah, that's what I figured." Fred smiled.

"That's what you figured?" he laughed.

She joined in. Well, you're not giving me butterflies, she thought. "It's not like you guys are the same person."

"Thanks for noticing," he grinned. "But I would've thought it was because of a certain reason."

"A certain reason? What's that supposed to mean?" Y/N replied, fiddling with her sleeve. She giggled slightly. Had she been that obvious?

"Well, judging by the way you act around George-" he started. She could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

Y/N cut him off with, "I don't know what you're talking about." She walked ahead into the storage closet.

"If you say so." He put his hands up in surrender. They began to work on organizing all of the ingredients. "How did you end up in detention anyways?"

"Who knows anymore? Snape always has something to say about me." She changed her voice to imitate Snape's. "Potter, that potion is terrible. Potter, stop daydreaming in class. Potter, you're enjoying yourself too much. Potter, I am a greasy fun sucker."

Fred laughed loudly and Y/N joined in. "Yeah, it always seemed like ol’ Severus had a problem with you and Harry." Y/N smiled gratefully. Finally someone else validated her feelings. "But I never guessed that Y/N Potter would be spending her evenings in detention making fun of her professors."

"Well maybe you need to get to know me better, then."

"Yeah? Well maybe I will."

That was the start of Fred and Y/N's friendship.

-

Fred knew that Y/N didn't feel comfortable being herself around George. He wished she was, though. They were fast friends and he had grown quite fond of her. Not wanting to push her out of her comfort zone, Fred spent time with her without George. He liked to push people's buttons, but also knew what buttons not to push. Fred understood.

George did not. He always wondered why Fred went off to hang with Y/N Potter of all people. She was nice enough, sure, but he had no idea what they would do or talk about. So he was confused when Fred was so excited about her coming to stay with them for the rest of the summer. Ginny also seemed to be bouncing off the walls at the thought. Maybe it was the whole idea of the Quidditch World Cup in general that had everyone energized.

Soon enough the Potters and Hermione joined the Weasleys at the burrow. Fred and George were on their way back from town when they arrived.

Ginny opened the door and leaned out. "Oi! Y/N's here! And Harry and Hermione, too." A wide grin spread across Fred's face and he walked ahead into the house. George followed shortly after and stood in the doorway. They didn't notice him standing there.

"Fred!" Y/N said, giving him a hug. George thought that they were both grinning like madmen and a small smile made its way to his face.

"About time you showed up," Fred said to her. He turned to the others. "Finally some more people to test out our products. Ron can't seem to handle it." 

"Fred!" Ron said, glaring at him.

"Products?" Y/N said, turning to him with a questioning look.

"Yeah, I'll show you. Come on! I've got so much to tell you," Fred replied, rushing up the stairs. Y/N raced after him and they engaged in a rather animated conversation.

"I guess I should join them before Fred blows Y/N's head off," Ginny laughed and made her way towards the stairs. Now it was just George, Harry, Hermione, and Ron.

"Aren't you going to join them?" said Ron to George.

"Ron!" Hermione said, lightly hitting him with her book.

"Ow, what?"

"Join them?" George spoke up, confused.

"Yeah, aren't you friends with Y/N now? We see you guys hanging out all of the time in school," said Ron.

"Come to think of it, I guess I only really see her with Fred," said Harry, shrugging. He sent a questioning look to George.

"Well-" George started, but they were interrupted by a loud bang from upstairs followed by raucous laughter.

"Fred! That better not be my room again!" Ron said, sprinting up the stairs. Harry laughed and ran after him, followed shortly by Hermione. George felt inclined to go after them.

When he got there he found that no, it was not Ron's room again. They were in his and Fred’s shared room. Ron, Hermione, and Harry were standing in the doorway. He moved closer and peered over their heads, which wasn't hard because he was quite tall. Inside he saw Ginny, Fred, and Y/N all sitting on the floor huddled together.

Ginny had her hand resting on Y/N's shoulder. Y/N was leaning close to Fred, who had something in his hand. They all had smiles that they couldn't seem to shake off. All three of them seemed so… in their element. George couldn't quite describe it, but it was odd seeing as he never really saw Y/N like this.

"What's going on with you lot?" George called, feigning sternness.

"Nothing!" the three on the floor called in unison. Y/N hadn't looked up at him yet, but his siblings were staring up at him. They stared for a few silent seconds before Ginny burst with laughter, falling onto her back. Fred started laughing too, and he even saw Y/N covering up her giggles between them.

As the time to the world cup ticked closer, George couldn't help but notice how close his twin and Y/N had gotten. Usually the two of them had the same friends, so it was a little bit odd for George. He brushed it off, though. Fred saw something in her that he didn't, so what? Fred had a good way of making people come out of their shell, he supposed.

Before long it was the morning of the day they had all been anticipating. They began their trek to the portkey. 

"George, you've got the face paint right?" Fred said to him when they left the house. George's eyes widened.

"No, I left it on the table. Keep going, I'll catch up." He dashed back into the house and retrieved what he needed. When he exited the house again, the group was in the distance. He broke into a jog to catch up with them. When he was catching up to the back of the group, he caught a snippet of a conversation.

Y/N and Harry were lagging a little bit behind everyone. George didn't mean to snoop, he swears. He just heard by accident.

"-spending time with him. Y/N, are you and Fred, er… dating?" Harry said to his sister. George had thought the same thing. But no, Fred would've told him. Besides, Fred was interested in Angelina.

"No! No. W-we're not, I promise. We're just really good friends," Y/N sputtered out quickly. 

"Well it's just that you only hang out with him and not George. You have to admit that's a bit odd," Harry replied. She shrugged her shoulders. "Do you have a crush on him?" he said, teasingly.

Y/N bit her bottom lip. "Have a crush on…?"

"Fred," he finished for her.

"No. Definitely not." She sounded sure this time.

Harry grinned. "Brilliant. We can't have my sister getting a boyfriend, can we?" She pushed him lightly on the shoulder.

"Alright. Whatever you say. I wonder what Cho would think about all of this." She walked faster, heading to Ginny and Hermione.

"What-" Harry looked bewildered. "How-"

"I'm older than you. I know everything," she called over her shoulder, smiling cheekily.

George waited a minute before he decided it was time to make himself known. "Fred! I've got it." He waved the paint in the air.

Soon enough, they arrived at their destination. There, his father was talking to Amos Diggory. Just then, a figure jumped out of the tree they were standing by. He recognized the boy as Cedric, who was in the same year as him.

Hermione, Ginny, and Y/N exchanged glances in front of him and Fred. The two of them moved to pass the girls and greet Cedric. He saw Fred poke Y/N's side playfully as they passed.

"Diggory!" Fred called out. Cedric turned around. The three of them weren't the best of friends, but they got along just fine. Maybe if the three were in the same house, they'd know each other better. "What's up mate?"

Nearby Y/N, Hermione, and Ginny were talking. "He's kind of cute, don't you think?" Ginny whispered.

Hermione smiled bashfully. "Yes, I suppose so."

"What do you think, Y/N?" Ginny said, turning to her.

"Oh, er… yeah. For sure," Y/N answered. 

"You don't sound very sure of yourself," said Hermione. Ginny nodded in agreement.

"Well, you're staring over there," added Ginny, laughing slightly. Yeah, at your brother, Y/N thought to herself. She quickly averted her gaze.

"Am not!"

"Don't look now, but I think Cedric noticed," Hermione said with a slight giggle in her tone. Y/N glanced up to Cedric looking in their direction. Fred seemed to have followed his gaze and was now looking at them too.

A cheeky grin spread across his face. "Oi, Y/N! Come say hi!"

Y/N approached them and shot Fred a glare. Cedric stuck his hand out to her. She took it and they shook hands.

"Cedric Diggory."

"Y/N Potter."

-

After the crazy night at the game, the trek from the portkey to the burrow seemed much longer than before. In fact, so much so that George was lagging behind the rest of the group. In front of him was Fred and Y/N, who seemed to be in their own little world. Just as earlier in the day, he caught a snippet of a conversation that wasn’t meant for his ears.

“So, what’d you think of Diggory?” Fred said to Y/N in a teasing manner.

“What did I think of… Cedric? Yeah, he’s a nice guy,” she replied, shrugging her shoulders.

“A nice guy?” Fred laughed and Y/N rolled her eyes. “I think he took a liking to you…”

“A liking to me? What’s that supposed to mean exactly?”

“Oh, you know. He just seemed a little bit… flirty, if you will,” Fred said with a large grin on his face.

“No, I will not,” Y/N replied with the hint of a laugh in her voice. “He was just being friendly. Besides…” she leaned closer to Fred. “You know I fancy-”

Just then George heard a loud crunch that came from the bottom of his foot. He had stepped on a branch.

Fred and Y/N whipped around.

“George!” she exclaimed. “I- We- We didn’t quite s-see you there!” she said, wringing her hands nervously. 

He felt a little bad at her mortified look. “Oh yeah, sorry about that. I was way behind and just caught up now.” Okay, so he lied. But she did look relieved, so it didn’t matter much to him.

A smile crossed her face. “B-brilliant.”

“Y/N, I think I heard Harry calling your name,” Fred said after a long silence. Y/N sent him a grateful look and headed to the group in front of them.

-

The Yule Ball was fast approaching and all of the students at Hogwarts seemed to be buzzing with excitement. Everyone except Y/N, of course. She had been stressed about Harry in the tournament and more obviously, she had not yet secured a date. Y/N was silently wishing that a certain someone would ask her, but she tried not to get her hopes up. He had never really given her much attention anyways. 

Y/N was sitting in the library doing her potions homework. Despite the upcoming holidays, Professor Snape still decided to pile on work. She lifted her quill to dip into the ink bottle that was sat on the table. 

“Y/N.” A voice from behind her cut through the silence of the library. Several heads turned their way. On top of that, the person had startled her so much that she knocked the ink all over her parchment. She tried to contain her huff and turned around.

“Yes?” she said in the politest tone possible. 

“O-oh I’m sorry about that,” said the boy before her.

Her gaze softened and a polite smile made its way to her face. “Don’t worry about it. My essay was rubbish anyways. Kenneth Towler, right?”

“Yes, that’s me. And I highly doubt that. You’re one of the top students in your year, aren’t you?” he replied, fidgeting with his hands. Y/N felt a bit of heat rise to her face and smiled brighter. And were those… butterflies in her stomach? “A-anyways, I was wondering if you were going to the ball with anyone…?”

She was a bit startled by the question. “The ball? Oh no, no one’s asked me.” Y/N’s smile faltered a bit. 

“Oh wow, that’s surprising. Well, I was wondering if-” he cleared his throat. “I was wondering if y-you wanted to go with me? To the ball, I mean,” he stammered. Y/N smiled to herself at his awkwardness. It was endearing, in a way.

When she opened her mouth to reply, a head of red hair caught her attention. It was George, walking towards the exit of the library. Her eyes followed him for a split second, as if that would will him to come over and ask her to be his. She shook the thought out of her head. Come on, Y/N, he’s barely even spoken to you. 

“You know what, Kenneth? I would love to.” 

And just like that the idea of George Weasley got smaller and smaller inside of her head.

-

“Fred! Fred!” a voice called from down the corridor that the twins were walking through. It was Y/N’s. They turned towards her.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the Y/N Potter,” Fred said, grinning as she approached. George thought that she seemed to have an extra pep in her step. She came forward and grabbed Fred’s arm in excitement.

“Oh, you wouldn’t believe it Fred. Someone’s just asked me to the ball. I didn’t think anyone would,” Y/N said. A bright smile was spread across her face. “Oh, and, erm, hi Geroge.” He nodded and smiled at her in acknowledgement.  That was a bit unusual. She never really seemed to speak to him unless he spoke to her first.

“Oh, rubbish. You’re a right catch, Y/N Potter. Who’s the lucky guy?” replied Fred.

That just seemed to make Y/N’s smile wider. “Kenneth Towler.”

This shocked both Fred and George.

“Kenneth Towler? The Gryffindor? In our year?” Fred asked, eyes slightly wide. Y/N nodded. “Did you think you wouldn’t have any other options?” he teased, snickering slightly. Y/N lightly hit the side of his arm with the parchment rolled up in her hand.

“Oh hush, Fred. He’s a really nice guy. And handsome, too,” she said, laughing lightly. Oh thank goodness, George thought. She knows he’s teasing. For a second there he thought she’d get offended, but then he remembered that Y/N and Fred knew each other really well. They were quite close. Best mates, one could call it.

“Handsome! Handsome?! Well, I guess whatever floats your boat, Y/N. He’s definitely not Fred Weasley handsome, but he’s okay I suppose.” George let out a laugh at his brother’s word. 

“Funny, coming from you Fred. I reckon Angelina will have to wear a blindfold to the ball if she even wants a chance at having a good time,” she replied. This made George shake with laughter. Y/N smiled brightly at him and fiddled with the bottom of her jumper. Did Y/N potter just make a joke? He had never seen it before. Perhaps that was why Fred had her around so much. She looked like she wanted to say something to him, but someone called his name and that was that.

-

The night of the ball soon came and Y/N was scrambling to get ready. Her hands were only slightly shaking as she was putting on her necklace.

"Are you nervous, Y/N? It's only Kenneth," her roommate, Katie said as she took the clasps of the jewelry out of her hand. She clipped it for her.

"That's the thing, Katie. It's not just Kenneth. He's the first boy who has shown interest in me and I really want him to like me," Y/N replied exasperated. 

"The first boy-" Katie sputtered in surprise. "The first boy? Y/N, I can name four guys off the top of my head who've fancied you."

"Katie, I've no idea what you are on about. If anyone liked me why didn't they tell me or ask me out?" Y/N laughed slightly at the idea. She would've known if someone was interested in her… right?

"Well maybe it's because you never showed interest back," she replied, shrugging. Perhaps she had spent too much time looking at George to realize anyone was looking at her. Well, no matter. The fact was she was going with Kenneth tonight. Y/N finished with her accessories and stepped back to look in the mirror. Her roommate made her way to the mirror as well. "Wow Y/N, you look absolutely stunning."

A bright, genuine smile made its way to her face. "Thank you, Katie. Truly. And I know your date is going to be absolutely gobsmacked when he sees you." The two girls shared a laugh, then made their way down to the great hall.

That night Y/N hung out with Fred and Angelina, but she spent the most time with her date.

A few days later, after her second official date with him, she had an important conversation with Fred. The two of them were lounging in the courtyard.

"Y'know what, Fred?" she said. He hummed in response. "I'm completely over your brother." A large grin was spread across her face. 

Fred sat up from leaning on her shoulder and turned to face her. "Are you really?" Y/N nodded excitedly. It was sort of… liberating to her. She felt she wasn't held back by her unrequited nonsense anymore. "That's surprising, seeing as you've fancied him since what? Before your fourth year?"

"Before my third year, actually. When you lot saved me and Harry from the big bad Dursley household." They both laughed at that. "But now I'm free." Fred raised his eyebrows. "Free from having to worry about George. Or what he thinks of me, at least. Now I've got Kenny. I don't know how to describe it, but he just makes me feel… good."

Fred grinned at her. "Kenny?"

"Yes, Kenny. You know I give everyone nicknames, Frederick," she replied, rolling her eyes.

-

George had a great time at the Yule Ball. There was dancing, singing, and good times. The Yule Ball also brought change, but it would take a little while for him to notice it.

Y/N seemed to have a magical night at the ball with her date. They went on a few dates after that and Kenneth asked her to be his girlfriend. She agreed of course, and they seemed happy as they could be for the rest of the year, given the circumstances. George saw that while Y/N still didn't really hang out with him, she came up to Fred while he was there more often now. He started to see more of her. Kenneth must be helping her come out of her shell, he thought.

Near the end of the year, George and Fred were walking through an empty corridor. They then turned the corner and were shocked to see a crying Y/N being comforted by Harry. Or at least he was trying to comfort her. He looked a little helpless. 

"Y/N!" Fred exclaimed, sliding onto the bench next to her. He threw an arm around her comfortingly and said, "What's wrong?"

Y/N sniffled. "It's Kenneth," Harry answered for her. George felt a pang of anger go through him. He wasn't close to Y/N, but he still felt bad for her.

Fred looked even more angry than he felt. "What did he do?" said Fred, who George could tell was trying to contain his anger. She lifted her head from her hands.

"He didn't do anything. It's- It's-" Y/N started before stopping and letting out a shaky breath. "It's his parents. They're moving to- to-" she said, putting her head back into her hands. 

"They're moving to America," said Harry, sensing that her throat was closing up.

“Moving to America?” Fred said incredulously. “Why?”

“They don’t think it’s safe here anymore,” she said, lifting her head once again. She tried to control her breathing and wiped her tears. “He has to sever all ties here and… I said I’d wait for him. Wait until this is all over. But he said that I’d be happier without waiting. Without him…” A fresh set of tears made their way to Y/N’s eyes. “But I’m not really happy now, am I?” she laughed at herself pathetically and tried to sit up straighter.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N,” Fred said, rubbing comforting circles on her back.

“Thanks, Fred.”

-

After George’s sixth year at Hogwarts everything seemed to change. You Know Who was back in his own body. Cedric Diggory was murdered in cold blood simply for being with Harry. The Order of the Phoenix was reestablished.

And another thing. Something about Y/N Potter had changed in George’s eyes. The summer before his last year at Hogwarts, the image of her in his head changed. And he wasn’t sure if it was for the better or not.

Please let me know what you think and ask me any questions you have! My askbox is always open! Thank you so much for reading!