#she's working on raising her weaseller quality at this very moment

[c-schroed]

Can relate! As soon as she's rich, one of my characters (who already is A Weaseller) will without hesitation invest a Cider's worth of Echoes into becoming A Woeseller.

Just found myself thinking that if I hadn't bought 400 lucky weasels for the weaseller achievement I might be closer to having enough money for Knifegate.

Having thought on it further, I disagree with this idea. Weasels are CLEARLY vital to my LIFE.

[jungshookz]

in an alternative universe roomie!yn wouldve been with jungkook .. which is quite a thought huh! i wonder how taehyung wouldve handled that

many thoughts are being THUNK 

let’s find out >:-) 

➺ genre; teeny tidbit!! an alternate roommate!taehyungiverse where y/n ends up with fratboy!jungkook and taehyung HATES it :-) jungkook and taehyung want to murder each other and obviously y/n is oblivious to that fact because she’s y/n so what else is new 

➺ wordcount; 932

                                       »»————-　♥　————-««

“coming, coming-!” taehyung’s shoulders drop in disappointment as soon as he opens the door and he resists the urge to roll his eyes as he reluctantly steps aside to let jungkook in, “oh. hey, man.”

“’sup.” jungkook clears his throat quietly as he steps in and makes his way to the living room, “is, uh, is y/n ready?”

“is y/n ready?” taehyung mouths mockingly, making a face to himself as he shuts the door

god, he despises jungkook

he really doesn’t understand what you see in him 

sure, he’s attractive or whatever which he’s sure was one of the factors that led to why you’re so heart-eyes over him, but taehyung’s seen him in his sleaziest moments and has tried to convince you time and time again that you can take the boy out of the frat but you can’t take the frat out of the boy and still, jungkook’s managed to weasel his way into your life and make you all weak in the knees and ooey-gooey on the inside

…maybe he’s holding you hostage or something because that would make more sense than you and jungkook genuinely being romantically attracted to each other

he should tell you to blink twice if you’re in danger 

“well, we were in the middle of breakfast-” taehyung points out, holding up the glossy apple in his hand before nodding towards the kitchen, “so, no. y/n isn’t ready. and i thought you were picking her up, like, this afternoon-”

“yeah, i was supposed to, but i thought it’d be nice to spend a little more time together!” jungkook spins around on his heels with a stiff smile before shoving his hands into his pockets, “she is my girlfriend, after all.”

“yeah… you know, you seem to like reminding me of that fact every time you come over…” taehyung purses his lips in thought as he leans against the wall, bringing his apple up to his mouth before pausing for a second, “it’s almost like you’re a little… i don’t know, threatened by me? could that be it?”

he smirks to himself when jungkook pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek and remains silent as he crosses his arms and takes a seat on the arm of the couch

taehyung crunches down on his apple with an obnoxiously big bite, keeping his gaze glued on jungkook while thinking about how else he can rile the guy up

he doesn’t usually like to say he hates people because hate is such a strong word but he can honestly say he hates jungkook

he has absolutely no redeeming qualities 

all he does is sit there and look pretty and everyone just immediately falls in love with him 

“jungkook!” 

taehyung presses his lips together to contain a shit-eating grin the moment you step out of the kitchen because of the fact that you’re wearing an oversized shirt and no shorts (sure, it’s jungkook’s shirt that you’re wearing, but it’s probably taking everything within jungkook not to go crazy thinking about how you wander around the apartment wearing no shorts)

“i didn’t know you were coming so early-” you frown, “why didn’t you text me?”

“hey, there you are!” jungkook pushes himself off the arm of the couch with a grin, “what, i can’t surprise you?”

“well, i like surprises, but it’s just that i might take a while to get ready and i don’t want you to get bored while waiting for me...” you point out, letting jungkook pull you towards him as you come closer, “i was planning on taking a shower and stuff and that alone is going to take me a good half an hour, so-”

“mm, i like the sound of a shower-” jungkook teases, the corner of his mouth raising in a smirk as he loops an arm around your waist to pull you in, your body curving nicely against him, “mind if i join you, baby?”

“oh, god…” you giggle shyly, your voice lowering to a whisper because you’re still very aware that taehyung is right behind you and you always feel a little weird flirting with your boyfriend whenever your roommate is within listening proximity, “maybe…”

“oh, give me a break-” taehyung scoffs quietly at the classic frat-boy ‘oh, you’re taking a shower… without me? ;)’ move that you just shamelessly fell for and he immediately turns his head to look down the hallway instead when he sees jungkook going in for a kiss

gross 

he waits for a couple of seconds before turning back, slightly alarmed to see jungkook staring directly at him while his tongue is probably fully in your mouth right now

well, there goes his appetite 

taehyung clenches his jaw when jungkook’s hand slips down from the small of your back so he can grab a fistful of your bum right in front of him, as if silently telling him that yeah, you wanna be me right now, don’t you?

and yes, taehyung would very much like to be in jungkook’s position, but sometimes life doesn’t work out the way you want it and the roommate you’re crushing on ends up getting together with your mortal enemy... which is a secret taehyung will definitely be taking to the grave with him 

“hey-!” a gasp of surprise escapes you when jungkook gives your bum a gentle swat before you’re giggling again, “cut it out, kook-”

“for god’s sake,” taehyung grumbles, pushing himself up off the wall, “get a fucking room-”

“oh, we will!” jungkook interrupts, tilting his head before offering taehyung an infuriatingly sweet smile, “we will.”

🎙️help me help you make your wishes come true (send me a request!)

✨why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here? (full fics!)

💫or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles!)

🌟or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits like this one!)

[moonflowerlesbians]

Jamie is trying to ignore the new au pair. She doesn't need to fall for this beautiful and straight girl. But then Flora asks her to clean the pool after months without using it because "it's a perfectly hot and beautiful day and we need to have a pool party. And you're invited too".

Dani. The pool. Bikini. Jamie doesn't know how to react to this, so she decides to keep ignoring her. But she can bet Dani is looking at her... A bit too much.

took me a second but I offer you almost 3000 words as penance. also I sort of extended it because it's apparently impossible for me to write pure fluff.

AO3 link in reblog if that's your preference :)

~~~

“Ah, yeah, it’ll be perfectly splendid,” Jamie grumbles between pants, yanking the tie of the pool cover over one shoulder with a huff. “Sure, perfectly splendid to swim in. Have t’ get it clean first. Can’t just jump in.”

At half eight in the evening, she’d been trying to beat the bizarre heatwave that had befallen the English countryside, but she’s failing rather spectacularly if the moisture gathering at her hairline is any indication. She swipes an arm across her forehead and listens to the faint chatter from the open sitting-room window, where the other grown members of the household bask in the glorious company of electric fans. Meanwhile, Jamie swelters away the evening spraying down pool filters and vacuuming leaves from the tile floor because someone had the bright idea to remind an eight-year-old that she has access to a pool.

“Oh, please, Jamie, please!” Flora had pleaded, practically bouncing out of her seat at the dinner table and coming terrifyingly close to tipping several drinks onto Hannah’s pristine tablecloth. “It’s dreadfully hot and a beautiful day, and we simply must have a pool party.” She had gasped so abruptly that Dani nearly dropped her fork, Jamie noted with a subtle grin. “We’ll all have a pool party! And Owen can make sandwiches, and Mrs. Grose can bring picnic blankets, and you must come, too, Jamie, won’t you please?”

Then Jamie had made the poor decision to lock eyes with Dani from across the table. The desperation plainly written across her face had been enough to convince Jamie to concede with a faux exhale of annoyance.

Thus, the weary gaze of a haggard au pair run ragged by herding two children indoors is the reason Jamie finds herself skimming the pool’s surface for any leaves and algae that managed to weasel beneath the cover when she should be driving home.

“Sorry,” a voice comes from behind her, “I’m the one who planted the idea in her head.”

Jamie turns to find Dani, a glass in either hand, peering at her with the expression of a woman who is half-tempted to change places and take up the skimmer herself simply to have a moment to herself.

“S’alright, needed to be done anyway. Won’t be ready until at least tomorrow,” Jamie sighs, accepting the proffered glass with a grateful nod. “Kids tired of being cooped up?”

Dani puffs out a laugh that says, you don’t know the half of it. “You’d think they don’t have a house the size of my old school to explore.”

“Bet they haven’t even found half the secret passages,” remarks Jamie over the smooth rim of her glass. Dani sips from hers, and Jamie endeavors to ignore the bob of her throat as she swallows.

“The what?” The wrinkles that appear on Dani’s forehead are surprisingly charming. Too charming. Jamie shoos the thought away before it can land.

“C’mon, Poppins. House this size? This old? There at least have to be servants’ tunnels.”

“Have… have you found any?”

Jamie hums noncommittally, noting the way Dani shifts her weight on her heels as if she cannot bear the thought of standing still. “Did you come out here just for this?”

“Partly, yes, but,” she lowers her voice, “I really just needed to get away from the kids for a few minutes. Owen’s got them playing a board game, thank God, and after that, I can put them to bed. I adore them, but sometimes…” she shrugs.

“We all need space,” Jamie finishes, a bit more brusque than she intended, which she chalks up to the evening hour and the heat, and Dani takes a step back. Shit. “Meant to say,” Jamie salvages with a wince, “it’s nice to be alone sometimes.” She grimaces, doing her best to focus on the cool glass in her hand rather than the heat in her face and the flutter low in her belly.

“I know what you meant,” Dani says softly. Then, after a moment’s pause spent glancing from Jamie to the pool and back again, “You need any help out here?”

Jamie raises an eyebrow. “Lookin’ for excuses to avoid work, are we?”

“No, no, I, um… No?”

“Relax, Dani,” Jamie chuckles, setting her empty water cup down in the grass. Dani visibly settles. “If you’d like to drag the garden hose over, we’ll need to rinse the filters.”

“Got it,” Dani says seriously, and she practically marches to the nearest hose rack as Jamie watches with a quirk of the lips. The au pair completes tasks as if the world will fall apart if they remain incomplete a moment longer. It’s a quality Jamie admires in her, the passion and fervor with which she undertakes the seemingly mundane tasks in her life. Jamie also finds herself mildly amused by the way Dani stalks across the property like she might break into a run at any moment, always on high alert. Always tense.

Might be nice to see her take a full breath for the first time in her life.

Might be nice to see her at ease.

Might be nice to see her relax.

Very nice, indeed, it turns out.

Almost too nice, two days later, the way Dani lounges on a patio chair she’d dragged to the poolside, with a book in her hand and one leg propped on the seat.

Too nice, the way her hair looks beneath a sun hat, casting dappled shadows over the tip of a tongue poking out between pursed lips as she turns a page.

Too nice, the way she lowers her sunglasses over her nose to keep an eye on the children splashing and shrieking in the water.

Too nice, in fact, far too nice for Jamie, who tries and repeatedly fails to keep her gaze off pale, freckled skin and eyes as blue and clear as the water. She can’t sit still. Can’t seem to cease the bouncing of a leg or the rote twirling of hair between twitching fingers. Can’t seem to stop flitting from superfluous task to superfluous task long enough to catch her breath, stolen against her will each and every time she catches a flash of exposed skin dancing in the midday sun.

But the worst part, by far, is when she looks at Dani… Dani is looking back. Four times now, Jamie has cast a fleeting glance at the lazing au pair only to find her peering at Jamie with equal intensity.

Odd, Jamie thinks, fiddling with the stem of a bush a few meters away from the pool, to catch Dani staring so often. But coincidences have been stranger, she decides, chalking it up to amicable concern. She can’t allow herself to dwell on the occurrence. Too many possibilities that open doors to too much trouble. Far more trouble than Dani is worth.

But what if… a niggling voice at the back of her head chides.

No, Jamie reminds herself with a mental kick and an outward shake of her head. She had a fiancé.

Hannah sits with her trousers rolled to her knees, ever one for modesty, with her legs dangling in the shallow end of the pool, while Owen and the kids do everything short of pulling the poor housekeeper in the water to utterly drench her. Hannah, to her credit, is taking their antics in stride, no doubt due to the mustachioed mastermind currently huddled with two overeager children.

The promise to Flora had been a pool party, and, never one to give up on her goals once they were set in her mind, the girl had hounded the adults with unrelenting chipperness until, one by one, they had been worn down. Which is surely the only reason Jamie hovers at the edge of the pool deck in an oversized t-shirt tied at the waist and old running shorts--the only sort of swimsuit she could throw together on short notice.

“Thought I might get in. Care to join me?”

Slender legs enter Jamie’s field of vision, then Dani is only paces away, a hand resting on one hip. She’s removed her hat, left to save her empty seat, and her sunglasses rest atop her forehead, pushing her hair out of her face and onto her shoulders. Her cornflower-blue swimsuit hugs her figure, and Jamie forces her eyes up, her throat terribly dry. She swallows thickly.

“May as well.”

Dani leads the way to the water’s edge, dipping one painted toenail into the water and producing a satisfied noise. She turns to Jamie standing a few feet behind and sweeps the sunglasses from her head, shaking her hair out. “Hold these for me?”

Wordlessly, Jamie delicately grasps one temple of the white plastic frame as Dani steps forward, her arms over her head, hands meeting in a V-shape. The hidden muscles in her back ripple, and she executes an elegant plunge into the pool, emerging with a gasp and a whoop of elated laughter. A smattering of applause rises from the opposite end of the pool, the others having apparently stopped their scheming long enough to watch Dani’s flawless--at least in Jamie’s opinion--swan dive.

“Oh, Miss Clayton, that was splendid!” Flora’s shrill voice chirps.

Hannah remarks, clearly impressed, “I had no idea we had a professional in our midst."

“I’d hardly say professional,” Dani says with a modest roll of her eyes. The water swirls where she treads. She pushes water-darkened hair from her eyes. Then, to Jamie, she explains, “I was on the community pool swim and dive team for a few summers before I could get a job.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Jamie replies. She passes the sunglasses to Dani’s outstretched hand and takes a seat on the sun-warm grey concrete at the edge of the pool. Dani swims up and places crossed arms beside Jamie on the deck, resting her chin on the intersection and looking up at Jamie. Lean legs kick out behind her into crystalline depths, and golden sunlight refracts in the water, bathing beneath the surface in an ethereal glow.

“You’re not getting in?” Dani asks.

“Not the biggest fan of water, if I’m honest,” Jamie confesses nonchalantly, as if by some miracle this admission will end the conversation.

No, Dani’s desire to learn, to understand, is far too intense for that. It’s another quality of hers Jamie admires, even if it feels as though she’s laying herself bare by sharing the tiniest details under her scrutiny.

“I knew plenty of kids afraid of the water back in the day,” Dani says easily, tracing lines in the small puddle that has formed from the droplets on her skin, “it’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“‘S not that. I just,” Jamie searches, somewhat defensively, struggling to convey the message without saying the words that reveal a weakness she is loath to expose. Her silence evidently speaks volumes.

“Jamie,” Dani says quietly, a furrow forming between her brows, “can you swim?”

Damn those observant eyes, that sharp mind.

Jamie looks away, shrinks just a little, scoffs with false bravado, “‘Course I can swim.” Then, “Can paddle… float….” Heat rises in her already flushed cheeks, and she picks at the skin surrounding the cuticle on her thumb.

“It’s… You know it’s okay if you can’t, right?” And Dani’s voice is soft, so soft, a murmur really, a whisper that makes Jamie’s heart ache. It keeps the sound from carrying across the pool as it does hold Jamie in her destitution.

She thinks back to a childhood of coal dust and dirty sofa beds and scavenging for food. Thinks of summers spent doing odd jobs to pay the rent, of sleeping on the porch because it was cooler out there than in the house. Thinks of covering herself with as much clothing as she could despite the rising temperatures to fend off roving eyes, to appear a larger threat than a scrawny eleven-year-old girl actually was. Thinks of boiling pots and scalding showers spent scrubbing her skin clean, as though maybe if she rubbed hard enough, the memories would wash away with the grime. Circle the drain once, twice, and disappear forever.

“Never really learned, I s’pose,” Jamie forces a weak laugh. “Didn’t have anyone really keen on teachin’ me.”

Dani is quiet for a moment. “I could.”

“Could what? Teach me? ‘S not your problem to worry about, Poppins.” The thought nearly sends her mind into overdrive. Nescience of an essential life skill is ignominious enough, but to have Dani bear witness to the reality is unthinkable.

“Well, sure it is,” Dani shakes her head, affronted at the mere notion. “What would we do if you fell in and drowned? Someone needs to keep Owen in line.”

Jamie notes the ‘we’ in her statement. We need you. Not I. Distinctly not I, Jamie repeats to herself. She fidgets with the knot in her t-shirt.

“Already told you I can paddle. I’d be fine.”

“Still.” Dani is staring up at her with a pointed look. She has the glint in her eye that Jamie recognizes from the instances Dani deems it necessary to hold her ground with Miles or persuade Flora to clean up her dolls at the end of a long day. She will not give in.

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” Jamie raises an eyebrow, approaching Dani’s determination as one might a chest of buried treasure, hesitant, disbelieving, a bit curious.

Dani shakes her head again, the ghost of a smirk upturning the corner of her lips.

A beat, during which Jamie’s thoughts wage war amongst themselves. One team screams at her to take the opportunity to spend time with the woman that another batch reminds her is not interested in the least. Another group acknowledges the practical benefits of developing a skill beyond aimless paddling, while another still acknowledges the persistent flutter in her stomach.

At last, “Reckon you’ll be putting that fancy teaching degree to use again,” Jamie acquiesces with a sigh. “Doubt this is what you signed up for, though.”

“I know exactly what I signed up for.” There’s a mischievous lilt to Dani’s words that sends a bolt of feverish perplexion through her. Dani pulls back from the side of the pool and holds out her hands. “We can get started right now.”

Jamie must look as if she’d rather snip off a finger with her garden shears than get in the water because Dani laughs.

“Or not,” she says with a sincere smile, and she ducks back under the water before popping up at Jamie’s feet, wiping the water from her eyes.

“I’d rather not embarrass myself in front of the kids,” Jamie says with a chuckle. “Lord knows I’ve never done that before, and I don’t intend on starting now.” It’s a half-truth. The real issue stems from the moderately disconcerting realization that breathing on land is hard enough with Dani so close, and Jamie really isn’t keen on finding out what will happen if she tries to slip underwater.

A brief flash of her sputtering to the surface, limbs flailing in all directions, crosses her mind, and she shakes it away.

A whooping from the opposite end of the pool catches her attention, and she looks up.

It seems whatever Owen and the children plotted had worked. Hannah is, much to her presumed consternation, sopping wet from head to toe, though she merely wrings out her blouse and kicks a lighthearted splash back at the children, who, having completed their mission, slink out of the pool and wrap themselves in paisley towels.

“Finished already?” Dani calls, and Flora nods from the deck, a yawn splitting her face despite the clock only reading three in the afternoon. “I’ll be right there!” She turns back to Jamie, says softly, “Another time?”

Jamie nods. “Another time.”

Then, Dani is off, gathering her things and herding the children back across the stretch of grass and into the house, leaving Jamie to watch in delirious bewilderment as her heart pounds far faster than it ought to, given the situation. And yet, Jamie cannot fault it, nor can she calm her racing pulse, though she tries.

Dani is the cause, she knows. Dani is always the cause, and no amount of fervent internal reminders seem to dull her effect. No incalculable quantity of mutterings about ex-fiancés will stop Jamie’s breath from catching when Dani settles down for dinner. No collection of whispered slim chanceswill convince a weak heart to cease its clamant pattering at the sight of a column of silky skin. No platitudes can dissuade Jamie’s longing soul from going against her better judgment, from going against her learned experiences that say this will only lead to heartbreak.

Love is sink or swim, she has learned, and Jamie has been treading water, head just barely above the surface, for far, far too long. Dani has offered to hold her hand, quite literally, to guide her through the risk, if only Jamie will make a move to reach out. Perhaps… Perhaps, Dani can guide her to shore to rest among sand beaches and good company. Perhaps, Dani will not let go along the way.

Another time, then.

Another time, yes. But soon. Soon, because Jamie is rapidly growing weary of condemning her wayward heart to fruitless excitement, of shutting a thing down before it can even begin, like cutting down a sapling before it emerges from a seed.

It’s sink or swim, and, at last, Jamie chooses to swim.

[loving-daisy]

Cry For Me | George Weasley x Reader

Masterlist | Cry For Me Masterlist

Chapter 1 - Pilot 

Words: 4.4k

Warnings: pranking, intimidation, suspicion. 

____________________

Square one. 

It all started with the Weasley twins scheming the next prank they’re about to pull. With the house of Slytherin always messing with innocent Gryffindors who do nothing but mind their own business, they think it’s justifiable to give Slytherins a taste of their own medicine. 

The twins head to their transfiguration class earlier than usual with the room yet to be filled with wizards and witches from different houses. In each desk, they lay out handwritten letters enclosed in an envelope sealed with a “W” that invited the students of the wizarding school to the party they’d be hosting for the holidays. Everyone was invited. Well, except for Malfoy...and most of the Slytherins. That is why the letters laid out in the desks of uninvited Slytherins were special parchment that forms a rather annoying face that sticks its tongue out. Not for Malfoy though. The twins think that Malfoy deserves something even special for not being so nice towards their friend Harry. 

McGonagall’s classroom eventually became more and more crowded as students came rushing in for their class. As soon as they enter, they’d be confused as to why their fellow classmates were jumping out of joy. Opening up their letters, a lot became ecstatic with the fact that they were invited to the party held by the Weasley twins. I mean, who wouldn’t? It’s the Weasleys we’re talking about here. The famous Weasleys who turned the boring halls of Hogwarts brighter. 

Students from the Slytherin house weren’t really bothered with the empty invitation. Not that they would bother to even come if they were invited. They despised Gryffindors and their loud and wild antics. 

Fred and George were casually doodling on their parchment about how they would prepare for the party. Stealing biscuits from the kitchens, snucking firewhiskeys, karaoke, and a special launch for their latest product. Too occupied with their little bubble, the thought of humiliating a certain platinum blonde who goes by the name Malfoy has slipped their ginger heads. It was not until a small shriek coming from what they thought was Malfoy’s desk enveloped the transfiguration classroom. 

Looking over to the owner of the voice, Fred and George’s face gave off a very confused look as to why the figure had long lustrous hair instead of over gelled blonde ones. 

“I thought you said that you were sure that was Malfoy’s desk?” George whispered to Fred. “I said I think, not that I was sure. But by the looks of it, at least it was a Slytherin and not a poor Hufflepuff.” Fred whispered back before putting his left and right hand against his mouth to yell  “Hey little snake! We thought you needed a shower. You stink!” in an attempt to further tease the Slytherin. This made George and the rest of the class laugh in hysterics. Everyone in class except for those sorted in Slytherin and the house of Hufflepuff. The house full of ambition and cunningness weren’t having it. They were in disbelief, in shock, and furious. The house with the designated color yellow was quiet. Fear in their little eyes feigning no absence.  

When the soaking girl finally faced the twins with cold and icy glares shooting towards the gingers, the teasing look on Fred and George’s face remained. It was until Lee Jordan nudged them and whispered “you guys are so dead.” with a shaking voice. George raised his brows, a questioning look present on his face. “Why? Is she gonna call her daddy just like what Malfoy does?” Fred gushed, earning a chuckle from his twin and a smack at the back of his head from Lee. “No, dimwit. Don’t you know who she is? You messed with the wrong Slytherin, mate. That’s Y/N Icestone!” Lee stated, giving another smacking on his best friend’s head, one by one. 

The Gryffindor was about to say another word until the victim of the prank spoke. “Clean this up.” Y/N Icestone sassed, crossing her arms. With her being closer to the twins, they were able to examine her from head to toe. A hairband made of emerald colored silk on top of her head, cold pupils resided in her eyes who still shot daggers towards them, a cardigan of greater quality inside her soaking Slytherin robes, black socks in fine leather shoes, and a small single diamond necklace in her neck. 

George looked up to her and smirked “No can do, sweetheart. It's not because you are covered with the finest of things that you can just order students around. Might have worked for others, but it won’t work for me, love.” He argued. 

While other Slytherins would have already hexed the Gryffindor for saying this to their face, George was surprised to see the forming smirk on Icestone’s face.

With a swift flick of her wand, the twins were suddenly looking up to her from her shoes, causing confusion to erupt in the identical faces. Being more confused as to why the soaking Slytherin girl suddenly became a giant, they looked at each other, frightened to see how they both turned into two little ginger cats standing on their little paws. 

“Blimey, Fred! You became a cat! She transfigured you!” George exclaimed.

“Mate. you too! What do we do? I can’t seem to find my wand, let alone have my grip on it.” Fred gulped, panicking. 

“Aww what do we have here? Two little kitties” a boy from the Slytherin house said in a teasing tone, earning a laugh from the Slytherin house. 

Y/N bent down to reach the twins, petting both of their heads. “there, there, weasels, it will wear off a few hours, no need to worry.” Right as she stood up, she snapped her fingers three times resulting in a little fairy immediately flying in her direction. “Mira, go get me a new robe will you? Mine just got messed up by two twats.” She ordered, walking away and going back to her seat. 

The shocked Weasley twins in cat form stood there for a moment before giving a small hiss and running out of the classroom. 

____________________ 

A few hours after the incident in McGonagall’s classroom, the twins were finally back to their normal form however, still sulky about the Slytherin girl. 

“Merlin! Who does she think she is?” George grunted, slamming his tall frame into a couch located in the Gryffindor common room. “A spoiled brat, I tell ya. She acts as if she owns the whole universe!” Fred exclaimed. 

More and more whines keep coming out of the twin’s mouth until their bubble bursted as their best friend Lee enters the room. Heading towards the twin towers, he rambled about the girl of the night. “I cannot believe you pranked THE Y/N Icestone. You twins are really something else. It takes big guts to talk to her, let alone prank her!” He began, earning a confused and questioning look from the twins. 

“What’s with you saying that again? Who is she anyways? It’s not like she’s a princess or something of royalty.” George stated like it was nothing, earning a smack in the head. 

“Oi! What was that for? Why do you keep on doing that?”

“How can you not know who Y/N Icestone is? The one and only daughter of John Icestone, who was one of the greatest wizards Slytherin has ever had? He even ranks higher than senior Malfoy! And Y/N...they call her the Slytherin queen! If Draco’s the prince, she’s the queen! You should have known better, mate.” Lee pointed out, an unamused look on his face. 

“The Slytherin queen, ey? Looks like we hit the jackpot, George. We were aiming for the prince but we got the queen!” Fred insisted, satisfaction in his voice. 

“Yeah, but she’s even worse than Malfoy. Malfoy would have walked away. She turned us into cats!” Answered George. “But I must admit, Georgie. You looked cute with the little ears on top of your head.” Fred teased, ruffling the younger twin’s locks.

“Oh yeah? But your little bum was cuter” George clapped back, earning a shove from his twin. 

____________________

Meanwhile, Icestone was spotted sitting in one of the fine leather couches in the Slytherin dungeons. Too immersed in the book that resided in her hands to pay attention to the confused and curious eyes that shot towards her. It is rather a rare sight to spot the queen in public after supper hours afterall. 

A group of 3rd years entered the common room rather too loudly for Y/N’s liking. They were blabbering about the latest school gossip, as if their lives depended on it. Y/N Icestone was not really fond of those as she already had experienced her own share of nasty flying rumors that went out of the place. Honestly, why can’t other people just mind their own business? 

Rolling her eyes and attempting to turn her attention from the book she was reading, the thought of scolding the young Slytherins was put into a halt as she heard the hot topic of the group. 

“I cannot believe that the Weasley twins had the nerve to bother Y/N Icestone. It’s like a death wish, really.” Big mouth number 1 growled, annoyance in her voice as she recalled the way she saw her idol’s shocked and soaking face as a result of the twin’s shenanigans. Big mouth number 2 gasped, her hands making its way to her mouth.  

“Bloody hell! Are you serious? What’s up with that house, really? They disrespect Malfoy and now they’re disrespecting Icestone too!” 

“I heard they bothered Malfoy the other day because he was being mean to Harry. But Icestone...Merlin! She didn’t even do anything! None that I know...but she doesn’t really meddle with those stupid Gryffs!”  Big mouth 3 insisted, causing more shock to run into the face of number 2. 

“But you know what’s even more shocking? They didn’t know who she was!” Number 1 ranted, earning another gasp from number 2. 

Before another word was spattered, a slam from a hardbound book enveloped the Slytherin common room, forcing silence and frightened eyes to look at the retrieving figure, as she made her way in the comfort of her room. 

____________________

The morning after, Y/N Icestone was spotted in the tables of the Slytherin house. He fairy flying beside her as she read through her mother’s letter while drinking her hot English tea. 

It was not long until the great hall was filled with starving wizards and witches, blissful to start another day with a feast. No one really dared to sit beside the Slytherin girl but the only witch she considers her friend, which was still out of sight. Probably had another snog fest last night. Icestone thought. 

Finally keeping her mother’s letter in her robes, she reached out to dig a muffin before being interrupted by the group of big mouths from last night, who sat across from her, their heads hanging low. She felt the familiar piercing eyes at all parts of her head which led her to roll her eyes and give off an icy stare. 

Managing to push the attention of the eavesdropping students, this made the girls in front of her whimper, their heads hanging even lower. “Y/N-- I mean, Ms. Icestone. We sincerely apologize for last night. We weren’t being careful with our words. We we’re just concerned and --” As big mouth number 1 started reciting her apology, two tall gingers followed by their younger brother, Potter, and Granger, entered the hall significantly brightly, a cheerful look on their face as they laughed about who knows what. 

This caught the attention of the crossed armed Slytherin, smirking before facing the group of girls seated in front of her. “Tell me your names.” The 5th year demanded. 

“My apologies, Ms. Icestone. My name is Celeste. This is Ares and this one is Aria.” Big mouth number 1 croaked, pointing to big mouth 2 and 3 as she introduced themselves. 

“Well, then girls. Are you aware of the consequences of having such big mouths?” Icestone sputtered, further intimidating the trio. 

“No, Ms. Icestone.” The girls answered simultaneously. 

Y/N grabbed a red apple, observing the fruit before changing the smirk on her face into a sly smile. 

“They are forced to have apples shoved in their mouths.” She hissed, causing shivers to run down the spines of the young Slytherins. “but I’m not gonna do that.” She continued. 

“As long as you keep whatever is about to be spoken right at this instant. Understand?” 

“Yes, Ms. Icestone.” 

As if nothing had happened, the girl with a diamond in her neck had an astonishing innocent smile plastered around her face. 

“Tell me everything you know about the Weasley twins.” 

____________________ 

For the time being, The Weasley twins together with the Golden trio and their sister, Ginny, was stuffing their stomachs with the breakfast laid out at the Gryffindor table. They were having a good laugh with Fred teasing Ron for his not-so-secret crush towards the smartest witch, who rolled her eyes in an attempt to hide her blossoming smile and rosy cheeks. 

The younger twin’s stomach was aching from the never ending laugh he had been spurting out until he was forced to leave their happy bubble as he felt a small hand tapping his shoulder. 

Turning to face the owner of the touch, he was shocked and confused as to why Y/N Icestone was standing in front of him with a small smile displayed in her face. 

He frowned, opening his mouth to mewl before being cut off. “Nice to see you’re back to your normal form now, right George?” She suggested, her cat-like eyes wide, an innocent expression and tone in her voice. 

Fred became conscious of how his twin’s attention was transported to somewhere else which resulted in Icestone to face both the Weasley twins instead of George alone. 

“Oh, hey there, Fred! Having a good morning?” 

“What are you doing here?” George interrogated, clearly displaying his annoyance towards the Slytherin. Icestone feigned a frown. “Not so nice to see me huh? You’re breaking my heart, sweetheart.” She said, putting her hands in her chest. 

“What do you want, Icestone?” Fred grudged. 

“Me? Oh, nothing much. Just your twin brother” She admitted, her shoulders shrugging like it was nothing.

“Anyways, I gotta go. I still have to fetch my books from my quarters. But it was really nice seeing you Fred! And of course, Georgie.” She mused before pressing a small kiss in George’s cheeks and walking away from the Gryffindor table, leaving the younger Weasley twin flustered, cheeks as fiery as his hair. 

Gasps and shrieks across the great hall were heard after the stunt the Slytherin queen has pulled. The kiss that planted on George Weasley’s cheek caused Ron to spat out his orange juice earning a disgusted look on Hermione and Harry’s face, stone cold glares from the Slytherin house shooting towards the Gryffindors, young Hufflepuffs who had their hearts beating for the said twin shattering, and Ravenclaws who were just in complete disbelief. 

For a moment, the older twin was just as shocked as George until he snapped out of it, deciding to tease his twin.

“Look what we have here. It seems like the Slytherin queen developed a liking for this little Gryffindor bloke.” He suggested, shoving George’s shoulder and ruffling his hair. 

“Shut up, Fred! She only wants to get back at us for pranking her yesterday.” George answered, his eyebrows meeting in the middle of his forehead as he crossed his arms. 

Fred gave a little pat on his brother’s shoulder before saying “There, there, it’s okay, mate! You are free to fancy whoever! You’re my brother! I’d support you! Better just watch out for mum though. She’d be mad!” which earned him a smack at the back of his head from his twin. 

____________________

Some time during the day, as Fred and George make their way to class, talking about their next prank, of course, they felt something -- or more like someone -- squish in between them, locking both their arms to the Weasley twins. 

“Look what we have here, my favorite ginger boys. I see that you’re on the way to class, huh?” She said, a smile on her face as she looked ahead. The twins shake their arms away from the Slytherin and look at her questioningly. 

“What do you want Icestone? Here to turn us into cats again?” An annoying tone in the older twin’s voice as he sighed, clearly not wanting to bump into her again. 

“That would be cute, but where’s the fun in that? I really wanted to hang out with you guys afterall.” Icestone casually said. 

“But why?” George asked. The girl shrugged, her smile not faltering as she looked up at George “Nothing, I just want to see you.” She insisted, causing Fred to snort and George to roll his eyes. 

“Why would you, out of all people, would want to hang with me and Fred?” George interrogated. “You’re a Slytherin! The Slytherin queen, like what they say. You don’t just hang out with Gryffindors. Weasley Gryffindors, if I might add.” He continued which now made Y/N roll her eyes.

“Slytherin queen?” She scoffed. “In that case, I think I can do whatever I please, don’t you think.” She stated as her right eyebrow raised. 

“But why?” Fred questioned, still confused. Y/N sighed, stopping in her tracks and facing the twin towers. 

“Look, I get that you guys are being suspicious of me but trust me! I have nothing going on. After the prank you pulled on me and both of you acting like it wasn’t a big deal, I was shocked, okay? No one really dares to go near me, let alone do something like that.” 

“So you’re saying, you want to be friends with us?” George asked. Y/N nodded, turning her heels and walking away, leaving the twins dumbfounded. 

George looked at Fred and Fred did the same. The twins having their non-verbal twin communication that nobody really understands but the two of them. 

“Well, are you coming? We’re about to be late!” Y/N called. 

____________________

The following weeks gain even more suspicion from the Weasley Twins. Whichever hall they were striding, the Slytherin girl would suddenly pop in between them, locking her arms in theirs as if they were the best of friends. At first, the trio were given weird and confused looks especially those from the Slytherin house. 

What was Y/N Icestone doing hanging out with the Weasley twins? Icestone would always look in their way and raise a brow which results in the prying eyes to look somewhere else and continue whatever the hell they were doing. The suspicion from the said house eventually stopped after a few days, thinking it was a scheme Y/N was up to as revenge. This thought, however, managed to stick up in the heads of the ginger towers. Why the hell would Y/N Icestone hangout with them? 

“I don’t know, Fred. Something is up and I really want to find out.” George shook his head, still curious as to why the girl has been following them. Fred crossed his arms. “The Slytherins must be up to something. Or maybe she’s trying to get back at us for that prank! I mean, it’s not supposed to be for her, it was for Malfoy! I swore I knew that desk belonged to Malfoy.” He rambled, looking down at his hands until an idea popped out his head. 

He smirked. “Or maybe~” He sang. “The girl fancies little Georgie here!” The older twin made his place on top of the small coffee table placed in front of the fireplace, chanting “Georgie and Y/N sitting on a tree, K-I-S-S-I-- Ow! What was that for?” Fred whined from the floor, rubbing his back as George shoved him off the table. 

“That, was for you to shut up.” The younger twin spat. 

Before Fred was able to scold his brother, a green paper plane flew inside the Gryffindor common room, flying from corner to corner until it stopped right before the younger twin’s face. 

Lifting his hands to grab it, the plane suddenly exploded, a little paper man using the black parchment, that was formerly residing in the paper plane, as his parachute.

When it reached the feet of George, the little man neatly folded the parchment, bowing to the younger Weasley twin before kneeling to present the letter as if it was a sword being handed to a knight. When George bent down to grab it, the little man poofed, exploding into green and silver confetti, leaving a small mess. George looked up at the letter and saw a fancy handwriting of his name in gold ink. 

George, 

How’d you like my little trick? Pretty cool, huh? 

Bet that’s a little better than splashing water on my face, don’t you think? 

Watch out for the main event. 

Icestone 

A second after George read the last few words on the black parchment, he felt something sticky in his face, causing a hysteric laugh from his twin. 

“I didn’t know you were THAT hungry, Georgie. I could have gotten you pie in the kitchens. No need to shove it in your face, you starving bloke!” 

George sighed, swiping his hands on his face before slapping his twin with it. “Oh, sorry Freddie. I thought you were hungry too.” 

____________________

As Y/N entered the Slytherin dungeons, she was immediately met by her fairy, Mira. She gave a small smile. 

“Hey, Mira. How are you?” She asked as she strides towards her room. “I’m doing quite well, Ms. Icestone. I have managed to prepare your sleepwear, prepare your uniform for tomorrow, and prepare your desk for school work! Should I prepare your bath as well? I should -” Mira stopped when she saw Y/N looking at her sympathetically. 

“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Y/N? No need for the formalities! Mother is not even here.” She said, placing her wand in her dresser and removing her robes. 

She felt a purr in her feet as her furry friend made his way towards her. “Hello there, Lixie. Miss me?” She asked, bending down to pet the cat’s head. “I certainly did, Y/N. You’ve been away much for often these past few days. You have to make it up to me!” He meowed. 

She pulled him up in her arms, cuddling him, and cooed. “Aww how can I make up to little Lixie then?” Her cat jumped out from her grip, slightly irritated from the skinship before suggesting “Bring me to the next Slytherin quidditch match!” causing Y/N to smile. 

“Okay, then. It’s a deal. Now, are you hungry?” 

“Certainly am!” Lixie said, resulting in Y/N to face her fairy. “You heard him.” 

Mira looked down at her feet, fidgeting with her little fingers. “But Ms. Ice- I mean, Y/N. I’m sorry but I don’t understand cats like you do. All I heard was meowing and -- I’m so sorry. I get that you might want to replace me. I’m new and I don’t think I have satisfied you and --” She rambled on before being cut off by Y/N pulling her in her chest. 

“Shush now, Mira. It’s alright. It must have slipped my mind. Thank you so much for your hard work. Lixie here says he’s famished. Prepare him his milk would you, please? I’m just gonna go take a warm bath.” 

As Icestone changed into her silk pajama robes, a small and quiet knock was heard from her door. Mira rushed to it, greeting the intruder of the hour. “Oh, hello Daphne. Here to see Y/N?” She asked, earning a small nod from the Slytherin. 

Mira expanded the opening of the door even more, letting the girl in. Y/N looked at her, a small smile in her face. “Hello there, Daphne. Long time no see. You must have enjoyed the snog fest that you have been having?” She suggested, a teasing tone in her voice causing the girl to blush before taking her place beside Icestone. 

The girl is Y/N’s only true friend from the Slytherin house. During their first years, both sat together in the same compartment in the express. Y/N introduced herself using only her first name, scared to potentially scare off students with the power she had with her last name. After the sorting hat called her full name and house, she was happy that Daphne hadn't ran away.

“Y/N Icestone, Slytherin!” The sorting hat shouted, causing cheers from the Slytherin house and murmurs to arise from the other. Sitting beside Daphne at the Slytherin table, she smiled. “Glad we’re in the same house, Daphne.” 

“I didn’t know John Icestone’s daughter is in this year? Better not mess with her or else you’d turn to ice” Y/N heard a teasing voice coming from the Ravenclaw house. Shrugging it off, Daphne gave a bright smile, locking her arms with the girl. “Me too! We’re gonna have so much fun!” 

Daphne crossed her arms, raising a brow at her friend. “Well, then what about you? You haven’t been hanging out with me anymore. I heard you’re always behind the Weasleys these past few days. Honestly, what is your deal?” Y/N just shrugged at her friend. 

“Nothing really, I’m just messing with them.” She defended, giving a bright smile towards her friend. The interrogating look on Greengrass’ face however, did not falter. 

“You’re not actually in love with one of them are you?” She questioned, resulting Y/N to snort and make a funny face, something she doesn’t really do when out in public. 

“Me? In love with a Gryffindor? Are you mad, Daph?” She exclaimed. “I’m just messing with them for that incident in transfiguration a few weeks ago.” 

“Okay, but you already turned them into cats! What more do you want?” Her friend asked. Y/N sighed. “Daphne, you’re taking this too seriously. I told you, I’m just messing with them. I’m sorry I haven’t been spending time with you. I’ll make it up to you, I promise! How about a little shopping spree at the next trip to Hogsmeade?” She proposed, causing Daphne to give her a bright smile. 

“It’s a deal, Icestone! But you have to tell me what you’re planning on doing with the twins. Spill all the details!” 

End of Chapter 1

____________________

taglist: @abrunettefangirlnerd

Author’s note: Hey there! Before I even started publishing the first chapter of Cry For Me, a few have already anticipated my writing. It’s really heart fluttering as I am new into the fanfiction world. I mean, I’m not entirely new, I have been casually reading for quite a while now and I was really inspired to challenge my creative writing skills so here I am. My apologies for any grammatical errors. I have been balancing 4 languages at a time which makes me confused sometimes. I do hope my writing reaches your expectations. Feel free to comment! Thank you <3 x Daisy  

[stareatch]

Willys wonderland x reader insert. Part 1

(Takes place during the rediscovery in 2002.)

●You were hired by Tex Makkadoo when you were 14.

•The interview was quite difficult, as other people were applying for the job. Haysvill is a very small town and finding a job there is not an easy task. But nevertheless, applying all your perseverance and diligence, you managed to attract attention to yourself.

• Together with other employees, you were practically the first person to enter the bilding in the past 10 years.

• There was a lot of work ahead. In particular, the animatronics looked like they went through hell and back.

• After putting the place in order, it was necessary to take care of the show themselves.

• Each robot needed both a technical inspection and simple cleaning.

• When you were alone in the concert hall, you could swear that you felt the look on you. Very creepy...

• Why should this weasel have an expression on its face, was it not a children's restaurant?

• The early days of work were terrible. It took some getting used to the constant screaming and anarchy...oh, and dont forget the difficult clients. One such "ledy" could not understand the request to keep her child away from the stage. And she did not hear any arguments point-blank. Needless to say, every time she came the days got worse.

• Although Tex was an axtremely understanding employer, he was not too keen on quality. Everything there was pretty cheap or not getting proper care. From old tablecloths to shabby robbots. As long ad they were generating income, the rest did not inerest him. And ii the employer does not care about it, then the other do not care either. No arguments could convince them to help with the cosmetic repairs of the main attraction.

• Apparently you still have to work alone...

• Sew their clothes neatly, luckily you knew how. Carefully wiping off dust and more( Children's places can be too dirty) The biggest problem was the head mascot. Dirty and tungled in places in tangles, dusty coat. And he's just too tall. Everything was done in few hours after working hours.

• Being the only enthusiast is not easy.

• So you worked for several months, but sooner ar latet this was destined to end.

● Complaints aboutbthe stars of the show began to come from guests frequently. People often said that they moved and spoke strangely. In front of you, one visitor with child swore by oath that his dauther was nearly injured by an animatronic gorilla. The oddites just kept happening.

• After a certain period of time, it was nevertheless decided to call mechanic. But even after that, nothing became clear. The mechanic just shrugged his shoulders, saying that everything in the animatronics works right.

• And over time, the behavior of the artists only got worse. But none of the tricks they threw on the stage were in any way comparable to what was supposed to happen later.

• It was a regular birthday, a private party. A family of three, with a son and a small group of guests, and a couple workers with you as well. From the beginning, everything went peacfully. The robots sang their usual song, the employees scurried back and forth with errands. The adults were discussing something at the table, occasionally glancing at the frolicking children. You were just bringing another tray to the table when you saw the next. The birthday boy, as you remembered Alfred, came close to the stage, raising his eyes full of joy and delighted surprise at weasel. You froze, it is not clear why some strange anxiety appeared in your soul and feeling that was impossible in words, making you literally freeze in the grip of the moment. The animatronic and the boy studied each other for several prolonged seconds. A sharp creak and squeal of mechanisms broudht out of the trance, in one instant the sharp fangs collided with the child's shoulder, the transe saddenly disappeared, you dropped the tray from your hands with a crash and, not paying attention of the cries of fear, rushed to the stage. The boy was happy just a second ago, now he was screaming in pain and horror. Quickly grabbing his healthy shoulder, you in hurry , trying not to look uptowards the loud crunch of torn flesh, pulled Alfred aside.

( I apologize for my English if its terrible. My native language is Russian)

[faraway-in-headspace]

I?? I searched Chicken Choice Judy on google out of curiosity because it sounds oddly familiar like there’s a similar-sounding name and I found 4 websites selling the shirt design. But the descriptions on these pages are BUCK WILD??

Written version of the descriptions under the cut (very long).

[Begin ID

First image states:  Long ago, when I had hair, I was an undergrad living in a house with nine other men. Near as I can tell, three of them (not sure which three) never bought food, just lived off what they stole from the Chicken Choice Judy shirt But I will love this other seven. We had several house meetings about it, but nothing changed. One day, I came in from grocery shopping. By coincidence, all 10 of us were in the kitchen. I started putting my stuff away. 1st thing I pulled out of the bag was my half-gallon of milk. I opened the carton, took a couple of drinks from the carton, then gargled some of it, and spit it back in. I opened my tub of margarine and licked the whole surface. By now, the room chatter had stopped because the other nine jaws had dropped open.) To your original question, those specific topics would take several years to build, as they depend on several layers of pre-requisites, which would require either that more advanced topics such as algebraic topology to be taught in elementary school, or that the buildup process happened blazingly fast during high school – both of which probably stretch the biological limits of what pre-teens and teenagers can reasonably be expected to accomplish. I spit on all my veggies, took the bread out of the package, and licked and spit on it, then carefully put it all back in the plastic bag. Remind teenage daughters to look through them before going on date with the boyfriend, in case they want to use one. I labeled it all and put it away. None of it was stolen. I never said a word, but I made it a point to repeat the performance anytime anyone was around to see it. Others began to emulate my approach and food theft stopped. Even I found it revolting, but it solved the problem. Works even better if you are sick or can at least make your thieving roommates think you are. While some cities are starting to reopen in the wake of the COVID-19 pandemic, people around the country are continuing to wear masks in public and practice social distancing. Vogue is committed to staying safe, and offering hopeful, optimistic content that highlights moments of camaraderie and exceptional acts of heroism from around the world. We are all looking for a little comfort too—be it a soothing Instagram account or a stylish creator on TikTok. It reminds us of the power of little things.

Second image states:  A couple of guests informed me my office was too minimalist and that they expected more things to be hanging on my wall the Chicken Choice Judy shirt besides I will buy this next time they visited my wife’s and my home. I kinda hope they held their breath while they were waiting for our next invitation. They both went on to backstab me and my wife pretty bad a few years later. Another set of guests tried to squat. I had driven them all the way from Florida to Massachusetts under the impression that they had jobs and a place to live lined up. They offered no money for gas, hotels on the three-day trip, or compensation for the inconvenience and effort. He even tried to weasel out of the dinner he offered as a thank you by forgetting his wallet. The dude got me off the streets years ago and I wanted to pay him back in some way, but my wife and I were in no position to have extra residents in our home. We just don’t have the room or money. I made all of this VERY clear and told my old buddy that we could only house them for a couple of days max. There are MANY other details, but the disrespectful thing my former friend said was wordless. As I was kicking them out and they were angrily loading stuff into my car to bring them anywhere but here, my buddy left his gigantic knife right in the center of my wife’s desk. Like that was supposed to make us change our minds and let them stay? In the days of dial-up, I had a family call and not be able to get through because we were online. They decided to show up unannounced. They literally caught me in my underwear as they were let into the apartment before I could even react to being rudely surprised. Some of my family members have a history of abuse, violence, and stalking, something at least one of the visitors, my mother, was quite aware of since she lived through it with me. Her tagalong friend decided to put in her two cents and tell me I should get a call waiting or a second line because they were trying to call me. That did it! I suddenly forgot I was just wearing underwear and angrily asked my mother’s friend if she was paying my phone bill. My mother-in-law, stepfather and mom’s friend beat a hasty retreat and NEVER did the pop-in ever again.

Third image states:  That was why when we did get to reality shows, Etro and then Dolce & Gabbana plus Jacquemus later in France, it was wonderful. Clothes are all about contact: As a wearer, you feel them on your skin, and as a watcher, you process them with your eye. The watching part can be done secondhand, but the Chicken Choice Judy shirt in contrast I will get this impact will always be second to the real thing. I read some commentators in the U.S. saying, “Too soon” or “Wear a damn mask!” which I always did, but these opinions while valid enough lack perspective. Milan and its surrounding region Lombardy went through what New York did but earlier. Through sagacious governmental management much more effective than that of the U.S., Italy has managed dramatically to flatten the curve across the rest of its territory. These shows just like the reopening of flights, stores, factories, and restaurants were symptomatic of recovery that, far from being taken for granted, is being tended to with vigilance and cherished with gratitude. The digital Fashion Weeks were better than no Fashion Weeks at all, but as an upgrade on the real thing? Nah. Like everyone, I missed the shows in the experiential sense this season. But for the first time since I began covering the collections several years ago, I didn’t miss a single brand or designer’s contribution to Paris Fashion Week. Which is to say, thanks to the Fédération’s online platform, I was able to watch every name on the haute couture and men’s calendars. This brand on-demand convenience not to mention being spared the logistical headaches of zigzagging across the city was pretty great. Also, everything was on time, from the films to the manner in which we filed our reviews. While efficiency can be satisfying, it’s not necessarily exciting. Ultimately, we had to accept that the focus this season wasn’t going to be the clothes but rather the brands conveying some combination of identity, process, and values. And in the absence of standardized criteria as in, showing a minimum number of looks, specifying a time range, it was interesting to observe how heterogeneous these experiments proved to be quasi–ad campaigns versus short films, conceptual or fantastical visions versus raw and documentary style. A proper kimono takes nearly an hour to put on – I’m sure most Japanese girls would much rather spend a few seconds and slip on a dress. Get survey responses from targeted consumers today.

Fourth image states:  Around a decade ago, not long after he started his own label, Massimo Alba made a great mistake. A batch of shirts and T-shirts he was working on that had already been garment-dyed one color were mistakenly exposed to another. Speaking at his showroom presentation this weekend, Alba said: “It’s very interesting to me that so many good things start out as mistakes like this.” That accident was to Alba what the Chicken Choice Judy shirt moreover I will buy this mold-infected petri dish was to Alexander Fleming: a stumbled-upon eureka that led to a career-defining course of the investigation. This collection featured a series of softly tailored jackets, corduroy pants, and shorts, plus light cashmere sweaters that were hand-overdyed two, and sometimes three colors. It’s a process that led to variations in tone that included acid-trip floods of purple on purple to subtle bleeding of magenta across mustard yellow. Like most of Alba’s garments, these dyed pieces appeared at first glance conventionally prosaic. The more attention you gave them, however, the more their exceptional qualities became evident. Take a pale blue jacket, for instance, which at that first glance seemed passingly related to a surgeon’s scrubs. To the hand it was light and almost textureless in its softness: The fabric was a cotton mousseline developed for Alba by Albini. Long-sleeved, in a delicately mottled finish of washed-out sky blue, it made for an ideal mid-summer shake in pink, sleeveless, it was an impactful shirting second skin. Other interesting developments this season included a cotton pant named the Myles with acutely kinking stitched gather at knee-level on both legs and another handsome pant, baggy in white poplin, with patch pockets. A blue tropical weight jacket named the Lenny, after Bernstein, was Alba’s interpretation of a bohemian creative’s ideal piece of workwear. Collarless shirts in ripstop linen and button-up short-sleeves in terry were further finely effective coups de théâtre. Alba is a self-deprecating yet dangerous designer: Try just one carefully chosen piece and that’s it, you’re spoiled for good because nobody else quite compares. The museum in Prague where this portrait is held describes the ring on her first finger as the ring given to her at her wedding. It’s not comfortable. Maybe a lot of girls think that a see-through blouse can attract the attention of boys or they think that it will make her look much smarter. Meghan has no dress sense: no knowledge of fabrics, fit, styles that flatter, proper tailoring, Her father raised her in L.A. Enough said. Her idea of dressing for an event is “dress up” like a little girl dressing up as a princess. Shiny! Tight! Celebrity “fashion” not elegant, just flashy.

/end ID]

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Never say never - Chapter 6

So, here’s the next instalment of this little romcom story...

°6° ~Victoria~

“But, I insist upon apologising to the other people in attendance, again.” Victoria hated apologising, but Martin had been right in telling her off about snubbing people who had done her no harm…this far.

Knowing that it would make Martin laugh, she snatched up a bowl of peanuts and held it in her palms like an offering.

As expected, the man beside her doubled over in hilarity, holding his sides as the wheezing grew painful. The polite but confused looks of his friends and colleagues seemed an endless well of amusement to him.

“Ah, thank you.” Hiddleston took up one of the nuts gingerly and shoved it into his mouth as if it had been a ritualistic offering indeed. “See? The tamest of…beasts.” Martin whispered into her ear, and she was tempted to pat the golden hair on the man soothingly.

Following the other man’s example, Armitage also picked a nut and ate it, keeping his eyes questioningly on her face.

“Look pleased, girl, smile at them.” Martin said in a hushed voice, nudging her in the side gently.

Victoria was almost sure that she was grimacing, her teeth bared awkwardly, but she had never been good at smiling on command and this fraught situation was, unfortunately, no exception to this shortcoming of hers.

“So, tell us, what did you refer to when you called this a “nerd-fest”?” Martin prompted her gently to speak, seemingly understanding that direct exhortations would get him nowhere with her. It was, in general, always best to come at a petrified Victoria sideways, starting a seemingly inconsequential conversation and letting it flow from there.

“There are literally dolls of you.” Victoria scoffed, moving her hands vaguely in front of her body in an imitation of how a child would play with a doll. “Not soft though, hard plastic…” Her hands sunk back, she was making a fool of herself.

“Dolls?” Liza hooted gleefully. “Well, I’ve also seen the theatre productions.” Victoria said, just a moment too late, her voice tinged with resentment again. She hated being caught unawares and being goaded into saying stupid shit.

“No, you tell me more about the dolls.” Liza was having fun, but her expression was devoid of malice or ill-will.

“Liza, I have seen those funny movies with the costumes and the creatures and…” Victoria sighed, she didn’t remember the names and she was already at a disadvantage here. She felt caught and put on the spot amidst these people who, naturally, knew those movies so well, down to the very lines of the characters.

“And did you like them?” The good beast, Tom as he had introduced himself with a smile, was grinning at her warmly again. Yes, she could see what Jenna saw in him, he seemed to radiate warmth and a polite friendliness.

“Oh, yes, very much. It was a bit…sad though.” Victoria shrugged. She was not ready to explain to a bunch of strangers that she didn’t like seeing bad family relations and vicious fights, as her reality had enough of those to last for a lifetime.

Liza looked at her questioningly, but after a moment, she understood. She had seen Vic pick up on the most random things, but strained family relationships and weird homosexual undertones were always amongst the things that moved her most. Also, like most soft-hearted, even though Vic was equally hard-headed, women, Victoria hated untimely deaths.

Maybe, her plan would work after all. All she had to do now was to draw back and hope that Armitage had a tad of charm on his own. He had taken the peanut and he was giving them his best constipated smile.

Waving discreetly at her wife, she withdrew, pulling Jenna along with her, much to the chagrin of the young woman.

“That is one good-looking man.” She sighed under her breath and Liza turned around, scanning the room for the person her wife’s employee might have meant by those words. Martin followed them discreetly, coaxing Benedict along with the promise of more cakes and sandwiches (and a prime vantage point to follow the developments of their plan).

“Where are you all going now? What?” Vic called out, distress in her voice. “I’ll be right back; you stay with Armitage.” Liza grinned suavely, physically shoving Jenna along as she dug her heels into the carpeted floor.

Victoria blinked, looking up at the man in front of her until she could feel herself grow slightly dizzy.

“Oh darn it! That’s it. I’m done trying to be pretty.” She cursed under her breath, opened her tiny clutch bag and fished out a pair of gold-rimmed, round glasses that she put on resolutely. Unfortunately, she could not suppress the gasp.

“Oh Saints.” She sighed under her breath as the slightly blurry surroundings became sharper instantly. She had known that these were dangerous men, but she had believed that her myopy and the artistry of the editors had embellished them considerably; suffice it to say that she was shocked to find that she had been wrong.

~Richard~

They had left her alone with that woman. Not entirely alone of course, Hiddleston was still hovering around, but Martin that treacherous weasel had followed the cakes and the gentler women, leaving him stranded with this surprising creature whose eyes made it quite hard for him to find something relevant to say.

She blinked owlishly up at him until he thought that she’d go cross-eyed. To his surprise – another one – she usually wore glasses and when she put them on, an obscene sound of pleasure escaped her half-open lips.

Again, she called to the Saints, pushing the glasses up before they had even had the chance or the time to slip, which told him that she wore her glasses more consistently than him and probably had done so for a long time.

She had made an inane comment about no longer attempting to be pretty, before putting on her glasses but that made no sense at all to him, as her glasses were beautiful and, in a strange way, so was she.

Obviously, pushing up her glasses was a habit or a tick as she did it twice while looking at him as if he was a painting in a museum rather than a real, living, breathing person. Then again, he stood nearly as still as a statue under her forbidding, critical gaze that roamed over his face with detached curiosity.

“Hmmm, how do you find the 1971 Armitage then?” Hiddleston stood next to her, eating peanuts, and joining her in her intense study of the immobile man facing them. No doubt, he deserved the attribute of “stony” now, Richard thought, dismayed to be the butt of the joke after all. He had known that had been a risk and he had walked right into it.

“1971?” She asked absent-mindedly, throwing a quick questioning look at her interlocutor before returning her gaze to him, and Richard flinched a little bit. Why did that man have to lead with his age when talking to a woman that young?

“A collectible, I’m sure.” Hiddleston purred, his voice laden with affectation which made Victoria chuckle again.

Hmmm, if it made her laugh rather than growl and spit, he would be standing there and be mocked for a little while longer, Richard decided. She looked like she needed a laugh.

“Not quite an antique.” Victoria opined, but Hiddleston was quick to reassure her: “Almost though. It’s been wonderfully preserved.” Again, that pealing, throaty laughter resounded, and Richard’s own mouth curled into an indulgent smile.

“This deserves to be in a gallery.” Victoria murmured, her voice devout and strangely vulnerable.

“I am right here; I can hear you.” Richard interjected, without much hope to break up their little game.

“AAAH, as you can see, Ma’am, it is unfortunately haunted. It can tell the time…if you hang it opposite a clock that is…” Hiddleston was quick to take Richard’s intervention in his stride, giving himself an apologetic expression that amused Victoria greatly. “Haunted? A piece of art so young?” She expressed her doubt and suspicion.

“Yes, yes…It’s looking for a good home though, a nice attic or a cellar maybe…” Hiddleston was waving his hands around Richard’s face as if to dazzle Victoria by the speed of his movements, an old trick salespeople used to distract from the inferior quality of their wares.

“I have a home, thank you, Hiddleston. I am not a piece of junk to be sold for 50p in a yard-sale.” Richard growled.

Her face grew grave, and he wondered what dark thought had crossed her mind to make her smile die on her lips. Immediately, he regretted having cut short their fun. He really was the grumpy, old sad sack he never wanted to be.

~Victoria~

When Tom spoke of attics and cellars, Victoria was immediately reminded of the stately house her father had raised her in. She could imagine a man like that one living there, she could picture a painting of a man such as that hanging in the great hall over the fireplace or high above the broad staircase winding its way to the two separate wings of the manor.

He had a skin like the Italian marble that had been so ridiculously slippery and that had made her afraid to take a fatal tumble down the very same staircase. Many people had told her that the idea was ludicrous and overly dramatic, but she knew it to be possible. Her mother had died that way.

Yes, there had been a bottle of bourbon and some prescription drugs in the mix as well, but the fact remained that her mother had fallen down the staircase and died on the spot from a broken neck. Father had replaced that patch of marble, but its veining was different, and they all hated that marred, ugly square that stood out like a sore thumb.

Thinking of her childhood home invariably made her sad; but she couldn’t deny that Richard Armitage would have fitted better into the décor than the little girl she had been.

He would look terribly imposing on the steps of the stairs or sitting in the huge armchairs in front of the roaring fire in the library. He would not be swallowed by every piece of furniture, he would not look out of place in the huge copper bathtub, and he would certainly not blend into the dark corners of the much too spacious rooms when the main lights were turned down. Maybe, she would have to get a painting of him and try to sneak it in to see if her father would even notice.

“Would that he were a painting.” She murmured, a desperate note sneaking into her voice that Tom picked up on immediately. There was pain in this woman, and he could see the gooseflesh on her arms as she tried to keep still. Evidently, she was on the verge of breaking into another run, unable to cope with something that distressed her, a thing that escaped his notice though…which frustrated him, as he really wanted to help her.

“So, you prefer the theatre to the cinema?” He asked, hoping it would be the right path to choose.

Victoria took a deep breath; this was what Liza and Angie had aimed for, for her to meet new people and talk about herself again. “I don’t know, I’ve only been to the movie theatre a few times before. It was a long time ago though.”

She could remember the smell of popcorn and of anticipation as the room grew dark and the screen lit up like a window to another world. Even then, she had been consumed with an absurd fear to be among so many other people; terrified of what they might think of her if she was to gasp or cry at the wrong moment, so she stayed immobile.

The man who would marry and divorce her within 10 years had thought that she had hated the experience and hence had not asked her to go to the cinema often afterwards. Maybe, if he had believed that she liked it, he would have taken her instead of other girls and this shared hobby would have strengthened their bond rather than frazzle it.

Victoria coughed, she had said too much already, and her heart was pounding. She was not ready for this.

“I’m sorry. I have to go home. I’m not feeling well.” She uttered hastily, turning to leave.

She was a terrible person; she had tried to make things right and all she had managed were fits and starts, broken off conversations that would leave a stale taste on the silver tongues of these men.

“I…can’t.” She stammered to no-one in particular as she waved at her friends and vanished before they could make their way back through the room to keep her from leaving like an absurd perversion of Cinderella.

She wanted to say how sorry she was, she wanted to thank them for their kindness, but she just couldn’t…so, she ran, her feet drumming against the pavement and her dress soaking up the moisture of the ground as she made for the next corner to catch a cab.

By the time she arrived home, her chest was heaving frantically, and she was crying with panic and distress.

When she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror, Victoria had to admit to herself that she was irrevocably broken. She had had the great honour to meet people so fascinating and charming that many a woman would have torn out her own throat to be in her shoes and yet, she had not been able to shake the ghosts haunting her every breath, dogging her every step, spoiling her every pleasure.

Whatever Angie and Liza had thought they could achieve here, it would not happen, it never could.

~Richard~

That woman was utterly confusing. There were threads of a vibrant, quick-witted, funny person shining through behind a veil of confused anger, but somehow, they couldn’t get a hold of her.

In his mind, he could not reconcile the words he had read on the pages with the wide-eyed distress on her face; there was such a difference between the person he had imagined her to be and the person she had turned out to be in reality.

Now, it was true that his own taciturn demeanour had not been exactly conducive to drawing out the parts of her she was obviously hiding from the world, shielding them like deep wounds or fragile saplings.

Hiddleston however… that man was charming and even he had not managed to make her let down her guard for more than a few minutes at a time.

“What the fuck have you done to her?” Elizabeth stormed over, dismay writ plain on her face.

No, she had been angry before, she has bloody screamed at YOU, Richard thought, you cannot blame us for her leaving…but he still felt responsible and a tiny bit guilty. If he had been a little more open, she might have felt less insecure.

She has made it very clear that she’s afraid of you, he reminded himself, and you have done nothing to assuage her fears. No, you’ve given her your crooked, sharp-edged smiles that must indeed have looked like a predator baring its teeth at her more than the shy warmth he wanted them to convey.

“We were nice, all was well until Armitage gave her one of those cold, snide smiles.” Hiddleston shrugged and Richard felt weirdly hurt and betrayed even though he could hear that it had been a joke. Cold, a thing he had been called much too often and that made him despair within his own heart. He had not chosen his face and even after 50 years of life, he could not outrun its angular repulsiveness.

She had not known him well enough to be prejudiced, maybe, she would have been able to find warmth where others saw ice, but he had not managed to make her see. Also, Hiddleston had not been a great help.

“Awww, Richard, come on!” Martin sighed, disappointed, as if he was pursuing some ulterior motive Richard ignored.

[calliecat93]

ST: TNG Watchthrough Episodes 17-20.

Home Soil: So from what I’ve read, this would be Gene Roddenberry’s final episode as showrunner before getting replaced by writer Maurice Hurly. I won’t comment on the behind the scenes drama and such that caused it because it was decades ago and not relevant for a First Watchthrough post, but since this is the last I wanted to make note of it. My thoughts? It was okay. This is very much borrowing from the TOS episode Devil in the Dark (the one with the Horta) with the plot being of an alien presence killing humans... but only because the humans were unknowingly causing it harm. It’s done fine enough, not being any better or worst than when TOS did it, but that’s about it. It does executed it a little differently with the events and the alien is FAR less willing to comply than the Horta was at first and ends with the alien backing down, but refusing contact with humans for three centuries, which DOES make it a nice contrast to how Devil in the Dark ended. It’s not great. It’s not horrible. It’s just okay with the biggest criticism being pulling too much from TOS again. Look, I love TOS and so far TNG hasn’t passed it. I outright have a 30 disc Blu-Ray set coming in the next few days of all the TOS material, including TAS and the films. If I want to revisit TOS, I’ll go watch it or read fanfiction or heck, go watch AOS. TNG has remained painfully average or not good at this point because it’s trying to retain what TOS had, despite it being over 20 years later and even the TOS films had changed how it did things compared to the show. Whatever one feels about Roddenberry, his removal I hope helped push TNG away from TOS and let it carve it’s own identity while still honoring what TOS had stood for, and according to history it did. Not sure if we’ll see the quality go up in these final few S1 episodes, but still. Sorry, felt appropriate to finally get this out here. Going back to the episode, it’s perfectly fine and it delivers it’s message well, and hey it’s not always a bad idea to showcase the same themes as the previous incarnation in a spinoff especially fi a relevant one/gets shown to viewers who hadn’t seen that TOS episode. Not the best, not the worst, and that’s not such a bad way to end up. 3/5.

Coming of Age: Alright Wesley, it took a bit but you’re starting to grow on me. So we have Wesley going through a test to get into the Academy while Picard and the crew are dealing with some rough interrogations and Picard being painted as an incompetent captain by the interrogator. They don’t seem that connected, but infact the latter is a test for Picard to determine if e’s ready for a promotion. I like how they bring up Picard’s actions in past continuity that WOULD present him as at least fallible to major error, ignoring certain conditions that caused it to begin with and how he got them out of the situation. Like I said, this was one of Wesley’s better episodes. While doing well with testing, his worry about the psyche test and not knowing his own fear and therefore worried about what the test will unleash upon him is very relatable. Heck his talk with Worf was a really nice scene, especially with Worf outright stating that only fools fear nothing which in turns add more depth and dimensions to the Klingons. The reveal fo his greatest fear, while I wish he had hesitated a little bit more, made perfect sense and he acted as a true Starfleet Officer. Which since this was before Undiscovered Country, is a VERY positive development. Picard guiding a kid who made a stupid decision was also good and shows why he’s a good captain, and his talk to him as well as encouraging a disappointed Wesley at the end was a nice moment to cap the episode off with. As far as Wesley goes, he may still be presented as too competent and intelligent, but he is more likeable and the testing setting allows him to shine like this without, again, affecting the adult characters. Plus text anxiety is super relatable haha. Now of course due to Status Quo is God, Wesley fails, but he takes it well and proved that he will be ready for it in the future. It was a pretty nice episode all in all. Nothing spectacular, but I enjoyed it, neither plot overpowered the other, had a good theme of one’s integrity as a person/doing your best, good use of past continuity, and it really shows the best in characters like Picard, Wesley, and the crew’s loyalty to the former. 4/5.

Heart of Glory: Back in TOS, the Klingons were depicted as war-loving jerks. They weren’t without some depth and episodes like Day of the Dove did attempt to give them a bit more positive limelight, but it wasn’t enough to overpower the one-dimensional characterization. The films were a bit better, Undiscovered Country especialy, but that one hadn’t been made yet and they still stuck with the ruthless characterization, just changed up the makeup to make them look more alien like. It was weird sicne whenever I ddi watch TNG back when that’s all I knew of Star Trek, Worf never came across like a ruthless warmonger but like an honorable warrior which made him stand-out amongst the cast for me (that and because I freakin’ love Michael Dorn due to his animation voice over work, anyone else remember I.M. Weasel? XD). So now we get an episode where Worf gets to interact with other Klingons. I lift a brow at Worf not knowing about most Klingon customs when he seemed perfectly knowledgeable about i in past episodes. Maybe that wad due tot he shift after getting rid of Roddenberry/ IDK, but these kinds of retcons happens sometimes. This was an interesting one for sure. The Klingons are much better presented here than the entirety of TOS, showing more of their culture/customs and compared to Worf, who was raised by humans and therefore not fully in touch with his people and their ways. This is probably one of, if not the first time he’s interacted with his full culture and naturally he’d want to interact with them and learn more now that he has the chance. There’s the themes of one growing in another culture, how they adapt while still trying to be part of that culture, and finding one’s own path. There is the question on why Worf wans’t just returned tot he Klingons as a child and IDK if they address it down the line, but that type of life and struggle with identity/culture clash due to upbringing IS real and VERY relatable. I’m really glad to see the Klingons fleshed out past their TOS depiction and it’s overall respected by the cast, showing how far things have come since Kirk’s time. It fleshes out Worf’s character a great deal and makes him more likable/relatable and giving him a very realistic struggle, and in the end he stands by his beliefs and even gets the respect and offer to serve with Klingons in the future by Klingon Captain K’Nera. Very much glad that I watched this one~ 4/5.

The Arsenal of Freedom: Oh boy, war machines that killed everything! That theme never gets old! I’m not joking, with how modern warfare and technology are growing and being sold for profit, it feels like it just keeps getting more and more relevant. There’s a lot of tension in this one with Yar, Data, and Riker dealing with the arsenal that is intelligent and they’re unable to be beamed up, the ship getting attacked with Geordi in command and the Chief Engineer (they seem to go through a LOT of those this season, guess they couldn’t handle the strain of acting as miracle workers like Scotty) being an asshole to him, and Crusher injured with Picard trying to keep her alive and not get killed. Seriously, I loved Geordi here for being an effective acting commanding officer during a VERY intense situation AND telling off the Chief Engineer without even so much as raising is voice while encouraging the other officers. Badass and admirable. The away team scenes were also good with everyone being plain awesome~ Crusher having to explain to Picard how to treat her injuries while she’s in obvious pain was really good character stuff and Thank God that they avoided indulging in the obvious shipping fodder. I know they’ve hinted a little at Picard/Crusher... but I’m not really interested in it int he romantic sense at least currently. It comes off as a Captain and CMO trusting the other (not quite the same as say... Kirk and McCoy, but the trust is very much strong here plus Picard and Crusher should be allowed to form their own dynamic) and that’s the kind of interaction I live for~! It feels like everyone got a moment to shine, even Troi checking on Geordi’s mental well-being and letting him express some of his nervousness was really nice. And of course the arsenal having destroyed their own creators... like I said, a theme that just seems to grow more and more in relevance. Like I said above, some themes are necessary to repeat, and this one very much qualifies. But yeah this was great for it’s tensions, the characters being all great especially Geordi, and it’s themes (even fi IDK how intentional it was) being a huge reminder of the dangers of modernized warfare/using warfare for profit. It doesn’t go well. 4.5/5.

Okay, it’s late in the season, but we are FINALLY getting somewhere! The characters have truly grown on me and their characterizations are getting better (i.e. Picard is still a serious captain, but is very much warming up and not as cold as he was early on), the stories are steadily improving, and even with what I said about the first one, I really enjoyed this batch of episodes! Only five remain in the season, and the plan is to knock ‘em all out tomorrow. Might take a day or two off before tarting Season 2, but golly I’m finally feeling excited~!

[rorynne]

The Three Times Natasha Failed at Flirting, and the One time it Didn’t Matter

Pairing:Natasha Romanoff/Reader

Summary: Natasha always prided her self on her ability to seduce anyone, until you came along

Warnings: Fluff, Its mostly just fluff. very very light mention of drugging but nothing in a sexual nature. Also Unbeta’d and pottentially OOC. I tried.

Word count: 2.5k

A/N: Requested by anon with this prompt “Helloooo! I saw you opened up your requests ;) ;) it's about damn time! Can I have a natasha x reader where either one of them is trying to make a move on the other? Whether they both do it, they succeed, they fail, etc, etc, it's alll up to you. Thank you!”

This is my absolute first time writing for natxreader so I hope you all enjoy.

Natasha was a professional. Trained in the red room, master assassin, one of the worlds greatest spies, skilled seductress. Years of training and experience had taught he all she needed to know to wrap anyone around her finger. There were three ways to flirt your way into someone's good graces, if one didn't work, one of the other two would, of that she was sure. At least, until she met you.

Subtle

Natasha didn't know what to expect when she met you. Clint always had a habit of picking up strays and you were no exception to that rule. The moment he announced that he had found someone held prisoner by HYDRA, she was immediately put on guard. For all she knew, you could have been a sleeper agent or spy. No, Clint wasnt incompetent. He would never have brought you back to the compound if he had even the slightest inkling you would double cross them.

But Natasha didn't trust easily, so what better way to learn your motives than to get inside your head? She was waiting for you both when you arrived. Not that you noticed, the moment the bay door to the quinjet dropped, so did your jaw. You were completely starstruck standing in the hangar. “I'm actually at the avengers compound.” You said, mystified. Never in your life did you expect something like this to ever happen.

Clint chuckled, slapping you on the back, “Come on, we’ve got people to meet.” His comment pulled you from your stupor and drew your attention to the two people waiting for you both. You grinned and followed Clint off the quinjet. This was really happening. You might actually become an avenger. “Only you two?” Clint asked as he approached Natasha and Steve.

“Came to see your new stray.” Natasha teased, giving a playful glance to you. She was far more beautiful than any of the news coverage of her managed to show you realized when you seen her. “Everyone else is away on missions.”

“I’m Y/N” You said, a goofy grin plastered onto your face. This was already better than being trapped at HYDRA. 

“I’m Steve Rogers, and this, is Natasha Romanoff.” Steve greeted shaking your hand. Really the introduction wasn't necessary considering they were literally the Avengers. “Clint had said you were captured by HYDRA?” he questioned as Natasha watched you closely. 

You nodded happily, “Yup!” Natasha couldn't help but notice the sparkle in your eye as you spoke, “ They kidnapped me and made me steal a bunch of stuff, mainly because I can do this.” You took a step forward only to vanish and appear on the other side of Clint. “I can't go very far though, only a few hundred meters. But it was useful to them so it's totally useful for you too right?” You looked at Steve with wide eyes that made Natasha hold back a chuckle.

“You didn't tell us they were enhanced,” Natasha said to Clint, who only shrugged in response. Typical. 

You nod at her assessment, giving her a warm smile as she looked at you. You were starting to remind her of a golden retriever, happy and eager to please. “Clint said that I could maybe be of help to you guys. I might not be of much help in combat missions, but I got really good at snagging stuff during my time with HYDRA.”

Natasha carefully looked you up and down before softly biting her lip. “Oh, I’m sure you'll be useful to us somehow.”

You didn't seem to notice Natasha’s gaze but you beamed at her comment, bouncing slightly on your feet. “I promise I won't let you guys down!” Yea, exactly like a golden retriever.

Steve chuckled, noticing Natashas attempts, “Hey Clint, why don't you go help them find a place to settle.”

Clint nodded, “Sure thing.” he said before leading you to the living areas, leaving Steve and Natasha alone.

Steve waited until you were out of earshot before he spoke, “They seem pretty harmless Nat.”

Natasha shrugged, watching you leave the hangar, still unsure quite what to make of you. “Doesn't hurt to stay on your toes.”

Steve shook his head with a scoff, “I don't think you need to flirt with them to get them to say anything. They seem to be a pretty open book.” Natasha frowned, Steve was right, you were surprisingly open all things considered. She couldn't see any signs that you were being dishonest either. But that only served to make her slightly more wary. One thing was for sure. Subtlety was not the way to go for you.

Physical

Over the next few weeks you proved to be quite the ball of sunshine. Always quick to help, with a smile plastered on your face, you became quick friends with nearly all of the Avengers. Natasha, however, was finding herself frustrated. Steve was right, you were an open book, but over time she couldn't help but to feel like you were keeping something from her specifically. It had become her goal to figure out what the hell it was.

Unfortunately, you were probably the only one on the planet that was denser than Clint. Every attempt she made to weasel your secret from you failed. Which only served to frustrate her further. At this point she was starting to flirt with you out of spite, just to see if anything would work on you. Something had to work.

She was reading, trying her hardest to push you out of her mind when you came bounding into the common room with your signature grin. Even she couldn't deny having a soft spot for you when you smiled like that. “Hey Nat.” You said, and she looked up from her book. “Can I ask you for a favor?”

“It depends,” She said closing her book, “What do you need?”

You shifted on your feet slightly, causing Natasha to raise an eyebrow. You were rarely ever nervous like this. “Well, I was watching you fight the other day. Spar, actually, with Bucky. And I seen how you totally kicked his ass. Which was amazing by the way, I mean, the dude has a freakin robo arm and the who super soldier thing. And you just-”

“Y/N.” She interrupted your rambling, “What did you want to ask me?”

You took a deep breath. “Iwantedtoaskyoutoteachmehowtofight.”

If Natasha’s eyebrow wasn't already raised, she would have raised it again. “You're going to have to say that in english. Or russian. Or any language I understand really.”

You bit your lip, Natasha wasn't scary. She was nice. She was probably the nicest person at the compound actually from what you had seen. There was no reason to be this nervous. “Could you, maybe, teach me to fight?”

“Why?”

You shrugged. “I, I wanted to try to be more useful than just teleporting away any time there's danger and leaving it for you guys to handle.” And there was your, quite frankly, insane desire to help.

Natasha couldn't help but smile, you were endearing when you wanted to be, whether you realized it or not. “Okay. I’ll meet you in the training room in ten.”

To say you were pumped would be an understatement. You were bouncing on your feet, shadow boxing as Natasha set up a punching bag. She shook her head when she saw you, giving you the warm smile that made your heart flutter since day one. “Your form is all wrong, come here.” She said, motioning to the punching bag.

You followed her instruction as she stood behind you, almost distractingly close. Her hands brushed yours as she corrected your stance; she moved your leg into place with her own.  You pushed your feelings deep in your head, you weren't going to get distracted and waste her time by not learning what she was teaching. “Standing like this helps keep your balance. Now, when you throw a punch, you want to move your weight like this.” As she explained, she grabbed your wrist and pushed it forward, allowing you to take note of the movement. “Got it?”

You nodded, muscles tensed and ready to try. “Got it.”

She stepped away from you, allowing you space to practice. “Give it a shot.” You threw three quick jabs at the punching bag, careful to keep in form. You might be dense when it came to flirting, but you were a surprisingly fast learner. As frustrated as she was that being so close to her seemed to do nothing to you, seeing you learn so quickly and enthusiastically more than made up for it.

Sincere

You had been with the Avengers for months now, and with Natasha’s help, managed to make yourself an invaluable part of the team. At the same time, Natasha had gone from cautious and wary to proud. She waited for you after every mission, just to see that big dumb grin on your face. She had even gotten used to your honesty, it was a quality that she wasn't exactly used to given her history, but she valued it. Before she knew it, she had truly begun to care for you. Although, at this point, she had long since given up trying to flirt with you. She had accepted you just simply weren't interested.

It was another one of Tony Stark’s famous parties, and he expected all of the avengers to be there, including you, much to your dismay. When Natasha found you sulking, actually sulking, in a corner of the party near the bar she was ready to kill someone. It wasn’t like you to not be energetic. It wasn't like you not to smile. She immediately made a beeline to you to get to the bottom of this problem. 

“Not having fun?” She questioned, sitting down next to you at the bar. 

You looked at her sheepishly, “No, not really. I’m not really much of a fan of parties.”

Natasha frowned. So it was Tony’s ass she had to kick. “With how energetic you normally are, I would have thought parties would be your natural environment.”

You sighed. “I, uh, the last time I was at a party, HYDRA was there too. They slipped something into my drink and next thing I knew I was in that base that Clint broke me out of.” For all your honesty and openness, you had always been vague about how HYDRA managed to capture you. Not out of a desire to deceive, but more because of how much it embarrassed you. “Parties put me a little on edge now.”

Natasha’s gaze softened, yeah, she was going to kick Tony’s ass, but your comfort was more important. “You don't have to be here if you don't want to be, don't listen to what Tony says.”

You smiled at her, but shook your head. “I’m okay. It's not so bad now that you're here.” You admitted. “I just. Just cant help but to feel stupid about this.”

Natasha touched your arm gently. “Y/N you are probably one of the smartest people I know. Its naturally to be wary. You arent stupid for it. Tony’s the asshole that wanted us all here in the first place. And even he would understand you not wanting to be here.”

You heart fluttered at her comment, but you pushed it aside. She was trying to make you feel better. “You know Natasha, you are honestly the nicest Avenger out of all of us. I have to say I-” You paused, words caught in your throat. Biting your lip you continued, “I think you're my best friend.” It wasn't a lie. Truly it wasn't, but it wasn't the truth either, and Natasha could feel it. An odd mix of emotions washed through her, but poker faced as ever, she smiled and nodded.

“I’m glad.” She said strategically, the same feeling of you keeping something from her arose, and she couldn’t shake it. “I’m grateful you can feel that way.”

You nodded, before standing abruptly. “That said. I, I think I’m going to escape this party now. If Tony asks, can you let him know?”

She furrowed her brow, “Yeah, of course. Are you okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Just, like I said. I don't like parties, and my anxiety is already high enough as it is.” You explained before leaving. “G’night Nat.”

“Good night.” She nodded as she watched you leave. She sat there contemplating your out of character actions, unsure of exactly what to make of them. For someone so honest and open, you were extremely hard to read as a result, given that there was usually nothing to read. Through the rest of the night, thoughts of you flooded through her mind, distracting her from the party.

Blunt

The knocking at Natasha’s door came at 8 am sharp, rousing her from her sleep. She groaned, if this was Clint again waking her up to tell her about some trick shot he just managed, she was going to kill him. If the world wasnt literally on fire, she was going to murder anyone who was behind that door. She already was not a morning person, but she had barely gotten any sleep after Tony’s party. She flung her door open with a grumpy “What?” Before she seen who was standing before her.

You froze, eyes wide. You opened your mouth to speak, but no sound came out. You really didn't want to upset her, But it was important. You took a deep breath before forcing yourself to speak. “I’m really sorry about waking you up. It's just I was talking to Clint and he kinda got fed up and said if I don't tell you then he would. And I really don't want you to hear it from him. It would be mortifying. I mean really he means well but what if the way he says it makes you hate me and-”

“Y/N. Y/N!” Natasha interrupted. “What do you need to tell me?”

You closed your eyes as tight as you could before answering. “I like you. I really really like you. Not just as that stupid best friend comment I said last night. I’ve been wanting to ask you out for months now, but I kept chickening out because, well, your you and I’m… me.” You sighed out the last word, scratching the back of your head. Tentatively, you looked up at her, leaning against her door frame, a surprised smile on her lips. “I’m sorry for waking you up its just-”

“I’m picking you up at 8 pm. Wear something nice.” 

Your jaw dropped at her words. “Wait what?”

“8 pm, that's our date.” She said before you flung your arms around her neck in a tight hug. She froze at your touch, before laughing softly. If you had a tail she swore you would have been wagging it. “Down, Y/N, I want to get some more sleep.”

You took a step back from her, “Right, sorry. I’ll see you at 8!” You grinned, before disappearing from in front of her. Natasha shook her head, closing her door. Maybe her flirting worked after all, you did just tell her what you were hiding. She laid back down on her bed smiling. Today was going to be a good day.

[marshmallow-the-vampire-slayer]

MTVS Epic Rewatch #179

BTVS 7x01 Lessons

Raise your hand if you never thought I’d make it to season 7!

Shame on you, Wallace, I thought you’d always have my back!

Stray thoughts

1) Except for Welcome to the Hellmouth/The Harvest, I’m of the opinion that this show always delivered lackluster season openers. It’s not that they’re bad per se – most of them are pretty solid episodes. It’s just that they don’t hold a lot of promise for things to come, you know? And while they do tend to set the tone for the rest of the season, they are usually far from stellar. “Lessons” is no exception. It’s a good episode, with some very nice moments and a very promising ending (oh, the promise of what The First could be was definitely captivating!) But a good ending does not make for a great episode, you know? And now I get to another point I wanted to make. “Lessons” is probably one of the weakest episodes in an otherwise pretty balanced, quality-wise, season. Yes, I said it. Season 7 is not bad. In fact, it’s rather good? (cue gasps!)

Season 7 is flawed alright, but so are all the other seasons. I think that what probably bugs most of us is the fact that this season’s flaws are more noticeable, kind of always there, and, in most cases, extremely grating (The First, the focus on the potentials, the wedge between the Scoobies…) But – and I hope I don’t change my mind as I proceed to rewatch it – season 7 is an overall good season, with its hits and misses. I’ve found that I’ve grown to like it more and more with each rewatch.

2) The first scene in the cold open is an interesting change of pace from the usual way most seasons start. First of all, there are no Scoobies in sight and we are nowhere near Sunnydale. Then there’s the fact that the chase scene is very suspenseful. We don’t know who this girl is, but you can’t help to root for her. Unfortunately, she doesn’t make it. But it’s clear whatever went down will have some relevance. And it’s all made clearer when the scene cuts right to…

3) 

It’s hard to miss the connection when you get such a tension-filled scene leading to our main character delivering the very first line in the season, a line that will basically embody the backbone of the whole season.

4) I love the fact that Buffy has kept her promise to show Dawn the world.

5)

BUFFY Never forget it. Doesn't matter how well prepped you are or how well armed you are. You're a little girl. DAWN Woman.

BUFFY Little woman.

DAWN I'm taller than you.

6) Why would this recently born vamp be afraid of the Slayer, though? How would he know what a Slayer is? (remember how Spike didn’t know about her for a while after being turned?)

7) I love the fact that Dawn missed the heart just like Buffy did her first time. Like mother, like daughter.

8) Where this super-sized scissors store, though?

Oh, yeah, also, Sunnydale High is back, btw. Get it? Because this season is about going back to the beginning… *rolls eyes*

9) Giles needs to stop getting cooler and cooler. 

This was also a very gratuitous shot just so that Anthony could show off his horse-riding skills. And I’m very grateful.

10) 

GILES Then why aren't you in your lesson?

WILLOW Sorry.

GILES It's alright. She was just—

WILLOW —afraid. Yeah, they all are. The coven is—they're the most amazing women I've ever met. But there's this look that they get. Like I'm gonna turn them all into bangers and mash, or something. Which I'm not even really sure what that is.

Can you really blame them, though? She literally almost ended the world. You can’t hold it against others if they don’t exactly feel like hanging.

11) 

GILES This isn't a hobby or an addiction. It's inside you now, this magic. You're responsible for it. (I guess we’ll just cross out all of season 6, then...)

WILLOW Will they always be afraid of me?

GILES Maybe. Can you handle it?

WILLOW I deserve a lot worse. I killed people, Giles. (like, I get that you’re a main character, but you should be in jail, like Faith is...)

GILES I've not forgotten.

WILLOW When you brought me here, I thought it was to kill me or to lock me in some mystical dungeon for all eternity or—with the torture. Instead, you go all Dumbledore on me. I'm learning about magic. All about energy and Gaia and root systems.

I repeat, Giles: too little, too late. THIS MAKES ME SO ANGRY! Please tell me ONE good reason why he couldn’t have done this BEFORE Willow got the Extreme Makeover from Hell and went on a killing spree.

12) “I want to be Willow.” Even though it’s a bit hard – at least for me – to sympathize with Willow at this point, my heart literally melts at Alyson’s delivery of this line and the heartbreaking expression on her face. Alyson is such a great crier.

13) 

XANDER I ate. I'm good. How are you?

BUFFY My sister's about to go to the same high school that tried to kill me for three years. I can't change districts, I can't afford private school, and I can't begin to prepare for what could possibly come out of there. So, peachy with a side of keen, that would be me.

14) I do enjoy how domestic Buffy and Xander are with Dawn. Like, yeah, Dawn has a bunch of parents and she deserves it.

15) You gotta love all the callbacks to early seasons, though. 

BUFFY Now, remember, if you see anything strange... or, you know...dead.

DAWN I got it

BUFFY And stay away from hyena people, or any lizard-type athletes, you know, or if you see anyone that's invisible.

16) 

Now, isn’t this something that would’ve been cool for the show to explore? Like, isn’t this something that should haunt Buffy? All the lives she couldn’t save? All the people she failed?

17) Dawn’s intro is so early 2000s it hurts…

DAWN I love to dance. I like music. I'm very into Britney Spears' early work, before she sold out. So mostly her, um, finger painting and macaroni art. Very underrated.

And… do you think Joss was taking a jab at Britney because they couldn’t arrange for her to be on the show in season 5? In which case, how dare you judged Britney?

18) So… Anya is not that into vengeance anymore. I guess spending a few years as a human and fighting the good fight really did put things into perspective. And apparently, this was their attempt at giving Anya her own arc? Unfortunately, it won’t last long.

19) So why do you think the spirits or demons were targeting Dawn and Buffy specifically? I mean, other than because of Contrived Plot Device. I get Buffy: she’d touched the talisman thingy or whatnot. But what about Dawn…?

20) I do love how Buffy’s conversation with Wood is intercut with Dawn meeting Kit and them getting sucked into the basement by the manifestations. There’s something off about Robin, and we can just sense it as much as Buffy does. I didn’t think he’d be evil, though, it would’ve been too on the nose if he had been. But we immediately get the feeling he’s hiding something. There’s just something about his word choice and his fixation on Buffy that raises a lot of red flags. And of course, the fact that he’s questioning Buffy while her sister and her friends are under attack kind of paints him as supect número uno.

21) And the great reveal… Dawn’s gift/weapon…

That was a bit underwhelming, especially considering it was 2002 and cellphones were already a household item. I get that the show was kind of making fun of itself and its lack of technology awareness. But I find the joke counterproductive. Instead of making me go “Oh hahaha, they have cell phones now!”, it reminds me how little sense it makes for these teens – now young adults – to have NEVER EVER used any type of electronic devices or technology other than the computer. It feels, again, as a Contrived Plot Device. Technology, in some cases, would’ve made the Scoobies lives much easier. They definitely would’ve have avoided some misunderstandings and miscommunications.

22) And then… 

23)

BUFFY What did you do?

SPIKE I tried... I... tried to cut it out.

Hm. I wonder what this “it” might be... huh.

24) We can safely say that Joss’s primary focus when writing this scene was Spike, right? Did he even remember the last time Buffy had been in a room with Spike he’d tried to rape her? Why wasn’t her reaction to seeing her would-be-rapist again explored? Why wasn’t that the focus of their reunion? Why have her acting so nonchalantly, as if she wants to pick up things where they left them off (that is, prior to Seeing Red, of course…)? She literally asks him if he’ll come help her...

25) Now, why didn’t we get to see more of these two – the punk/bohemian, and, I’m assuming, bisexual, girl and the troubled yet sweet latino boy – instead of introducing like a dozen new characters – most of which were pretty forgettable - almost halfway through the season when the focus should’ve been placed somewhere else?

 26) At least Buffy got a new job out of it. But let’s be real, the only reason she got the job is that she is a fictional character in a fictional world. Like, Joss tries to play it off as “oh, she only got it because it is a crappy position with very low pay.” But even crappy positions at schools require some kind of qualifications. Working at the Doublemeat Palace? Yeah, that’s not gonna cut it.

27) And then the scene that nearly makes the episode…

WARREN Of course she won't understand, Sparky. I'm beyond her understanding. She's a girl. Sugar and spice and everything...useless unless you're baking. I'm more than that. More than flesh...

GLORY ...more than blood. I'm... you know, I honestly don't think there's a human word fabulous enough for me. Oh, my name will be on everyone's lips, assuming their lips haven't been torn off. But not just yet. That's alright, though..

ADAM ...I can be patient. Everything is well within parameters. She's exactly where I want her to be. And so are you, Number 17. You're right where you belong.

THE MAYOR So what'd you think? You'd get your soul back and everything'd be Jim Dandy? Soul's slipperier than a greased weasel. Why do you think I sold mine? (laughs) Well, you probably thought that you'd be your own man, and I respect that, but...

DRUSILLA ...you never will. You'll always be mine. You'll always be in the dark with me, singing our little songs. You like our little songs, don't you? You've always liked them, right from the beginning. And that's where we're going...

THE MASTER ...right back to the beginning. Not the Bang... not the Word... the true beginning. The next few months are going to be quite a ride. And I think we're all going to learn something about ourselves in the process. You'll learn you're a pathetic schmuck, if it hasn't sunk in already. Look at you. Trying to do what's right, just like her. You still don't get it. It's not about right, not about wrong...

There was so much promise in this scene, and it’s beautifully written and masterfully crafted. I think it’s probably one of the most memorable scenes in the show, just because of its jaw-dropping wow factor, the questions it raised, its potential for epic greatness, and the impact of seeing such an iconic group of characters blending together in what promised to be the Biggest Motherfucking Bid Bad Ever. And the biggest question of all…if this thing, whatever it is, is turning into all the Big Bads... then why did he turn into Buffy? 

The answer to this question will be, as most things The First related were bound to be, extremely underwhelming. But imagine... imagine if Buffy had been the Big Bad...

28) Oh, just for funsies, I’ll try and keep count of how many times The First did touch something or someone:

 29) You gotta love the book ends in this episode, though…

[hillnerd]

Taking a Shallow Breath Ch 7

|Harry Potter | Fanfiction | PG-13 | in-progress | Ch: 3706 words

Ships: Rose/Scorpius, canon and others | FF.net

Romance friendship comedy family & drama | starts super silly- will get more serious as we go. 

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 

A person's front door can say a great deal about them.

Some people enjoy choosing grande hand-carved doors that have history, and speak of times of old. Scorpius tended to like people who chose such doors. It meant they appreciated artistry, quality, and could embrace the unique. They also had a flair for drama. Rose loved those kinds of doors.

Some people prefer the clean lines of an Edwardian door. These usually put more effort into the knobs, hinges, and door-knockers than the wood itself. They speak of someone who enjoys details, while being beyond the fuss of the overly grande, and relatively down to earth. Scorpius had such a door.

There were also doors filled with character but no artistry. Albus had such a door. It was beaten up from years of use, a faded orange color, and the number six hung down so that it looked like a nine. He had a shoddy matt out front with stripes, and though it was anything but put together, it had a certain charm about it.

And finally there was the red hunk of metal Brad had the audacity to call a door.

It bore no decoration- there wasn't even a welcome matt: just a cold steel handle, highly glossy red metal and a black peep hole. It spoke of someone slick like the varnish, cool like the metal, and flashy like that atrocious tomato red.

Scorpius hated that door.

What he hated even more was that he had been staring at it for one hour, nineteen minutes, and ten seconds.

"Rose! Open this door! This is getting ridiculous!" yelled Brad.

One hour, nineteen minutes, and fifteen seconds with the poncy owner himself.

"Calling her actions ridiculous will hardly entice her to leave," Scorpius drawled from the floor.

Brad tried another spell. The door glowed blue then turned garish red again.

"You've also tried that spell already," said Scorpius, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. "Rose's Charms are the best. Get a magical locksmith: I doubt drawing up contracts for overpaid Quidditch stars has improved your charms enough to worm your way in."

Scorpius was satisfied to see Brad's shoulders tense. Until Brad, Scorpius had never met someone he could not get a rise out of when he wanted to. He had never seen the man lose his cool, which made Al's theory that 'Bert' was not human slightly more plausible.

"It's a Sunday. Magical Locksmiths are like banks and private practice Healers- closing at the merest hint of a Holiday or weekend." Brad leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. "Rose's Uncle is a cursebreaker... Perhaps I could get him to open the door."

"If you want the whole Weasley family to know your personal business with Rose, by all means do," said Scorpius. "I'm sure her father would be keen to know why his only daughter has barricaded herself."

Brad blanched.

"You know, this is probably the most I've ever heard you talk, Scorpius."

Scorpius stoically did not mention he despised Brad and generally made excuses to escape his company.

"I suppose I just don't see enough of you and Al, though I think Al orchestrates that. He seems to rather despise me. If it weren't for the fact that he and Rose were cousins ,I'd think he were jealous."

"He is very protective of Rose," Scorpius said with a schooled shrug.

"As are you."

Scorpius remained silent. He didn't like where Brad was probing with this conversation.

"You know, there is a closeness between you and Rose I quite envy at times..."

"Perhaps, if you weren't so busy negotiating with Melrose Fenwick, you could spend time with Rose," said Scorpius.

"We spend plenty of time together," Brad said with a raunchy smile that made Scorpius roll his eyes. "But I still envy your friendship. Sometimes I even worry she tells you things she would never tell me."

"I wouldn't know. I'm not privy to your private conversations, after all." Scorpius could not recall being more uncomfortable. He hoped this would bring an end to this intimate look into Brandon Bradley's perspective. He came from a family where you were taught to never reveal your weaknesses, or worries, for fear they would be exploited later. Being a Slytherin only further enforced this. Scorpius had very few people he trusted with his insecurities, secrets and dreams. Brad would never be one of them, and he had no idea why Brad felt the need to share such details with him.

"She's incredibly special, you know? I even wonder how I was lucky enough to catch her."

Scorpius had pondered that subject many a time.

"I don't pretend to understand your relationship, but your friendship means a great deal to her, so whatever it is you're holding against me, I hope we can move past it. I know she'd appreciate it if we got along," said Brad.

Scorpius resisted a gaffaw.

Either Brad was very shrewd, or he was a much more gracious person than Scorpius had thought him. He hoped it was the former, that way his continued hatred would feel even more just. Was he trying to weasel something of a confession out of Scorpius?

Or maybe he was hoping to use Scorpius as a way to quickly earn Rose's forgiveness.

Scorpius had never cared much for Brad. The man was much too keen to have everyone's approval, an attribute Scorpius disdained. What tolerance he had for Brad dipped when he took up with Rose three years prior- but following the proposal, Scorpius found it hard to recall one pleasant thing about him. If someone like Rose could manage to stand the bastard, he had to have at least one redeeming feature, and after thinking, Scorpius discovered it. He had clean fingernails. There! That was surely enough for karma's sake.

Looking at the shiny door, Scorpius could make out their reflections as they sat together. At first glance one might think the rivals friends.

What if they were friends? Wouldn't Rose appreciate it? Wouldn't Scorpius have more opportunities to sabotage Brad and leave him in a crying mess on the floor for others to mock?

Scorpius felt a bit ill. It was uncomfortable to come to terms with how deeply rooted and savage his feelings towards Brad had become.

The most ruthless part of him wanted to sabotage Brad in every way. He did not want to stop at just stealing Rose, but hurt Brad's reputation, and leave him gutted. He wanted revenge against the ponce for ever having taken Rose's time and attention.

He shook his head to rid himself of this dangerous territory of thought. He never considered himself spiteful- though he had been known as a bit harsh at times, he was nothing if not fair. He was not terribly fluent in underhanded dealings, only ever dabbling in them when necessary, for he had always regarded himself as above that. He was a pillar of virtue, compared to many of the Slytherins he knew.

Of course, being friendly with Brad could have other benefits, like research on how to get Rose to see all the faults in him Scorpius and Al did. He would finally end the hold Brad had on Rose's affections, and if Brad would suffer, so be it.

"Yes, she would appreciate us getting along," Scorpius finally conceded.

"I'm willing to try."

"And I'm willing... to look past your atrocious taste in architectural features."

Brad laughed.

"Yeah, it's not quite as classic as your tastes-"

"That's one way to put it," said Scorpius with a raised brow at the door.

"I suppose that's why you're the architect."

"I don't have any business cards with me, but feel free to floo my secretary. It needs an overhaul, if not for taste's sake, then for your neighbors'. I would have lodged a complaint years ago."

"You know, it's been over an hour," Brad said, deftly changing the subject. "Part of me is wondering if she's in there or not."

Scorpius turned his head to the side. A spark of thought burgeoned within him. Rose was not there at all... and he had a reasonably good idea of where to find her. The more he thought on it, the more he felt the need to leave immediately.

"Well, it seems there is nothing I can do to rectify this situation. I suppose I'm going to go home," he said, hoping Brad took no notice of his sudden inspiration. Brad didn't seem concerned, so Scorpius took his leave, doing his best to look unhurried. The moment the doors closed on the the elevator he apparated.

He was immediately in the familiar alleyway near Marylebone High Street. Of all the wizard inventions, how they had not managed to get better apparating points, he was unsure. The alley had the same long abandoned posters featuring bands he had never heard of, and long-forgotten flyers of past classes liberally lining its its brick walls. At one point people must have passed by this area quite often, but the foreclosed building at the end of the alley looked like it hadn't seen people in a decade. It was a shame, really, as it was built rather handsomely, and with a few spells and layers of paint, it would be a grande place for a business of some sort.

He walked fast as he could without gaining unwarranted attention, until coming to the dark blue doors of the museum.

"Malfoooy!" he heard a voice trill from inside. Vanessa, a plump genial woman called him from the desk. The bubbly woman had worked there ever since its opening, she told him some years ago. She seemed an odd fit for the quiet rooms of the small museum, especially as her trilling laugh would echo off the walls disturbing the guests. He fished in his pockets to pay her for admission. "Don't you try to pay us. You and Rose are in here often enough, it wouldn't be right to ask you to pay each time."

"Fine, but I swear I'll manage to pay you eventually," Scorpius said, re-pocketing a muggle bill. "Is Rose in her usual spot?"

"Oh yes! Same as usual," Vanessa said with a laugh. Scorpius gave her a nod of thanks, before making his way into the gallery. A few turns and flights of stairs, and he was able to see Rose's bright hair. She sat alone on her bench, firmly staring at the painting front of her. Her hand tried to sneakily remove a piece of chocolate from her purse. The purse crinkled in a way that made him suspect this was not her first piece of the day.

"I believe it's against the rules to bring in outside food or drink," said Scorpius, pointing to the sign above her head that said 'no outside food or drink.'

"It doesn't say anything about chocolate," she said pushing another chocolate into her mouth, and licking her fingers. She moved the purse, almost overflowing with wrappers, to the side. Whether she moved it to make room for him to sit, or to conceal how many chocolates she had eaten, he was not sure.

He silently sat on the proffered spot, though not without spelling away a pair of chocolate finger prints from the seat.

Rose continued to chew, a look of consternation wrinkling her brow. She had a bit of chocolate in the corner of her mouth.

"Here." He handed her a handkerchief. She wretched it from his hand and wrathfully swiped at her face.

"Are you all done depriving the greater Western Hemisphere of cocoa, or should I wait until we can roll you out the door?"

Rose scowled at him.

"You're not going to hex me into the wall like your fiance, are you?" he asked.

"I would never do that in a museum!" Rose replied, scandalized. "But once we're out of here, there are definitely no guarantees."

"Good to know. You should never warn your enemies, though," he replied, patting his wand.

"That's such a Slytherin thing to say!"

"And that's such a a Gryffindor response!" he mocked.

They sat in companionable silence, staring at Rose's favorite painting "La Belle Dame Sans Merci." Scorpius suspected she loved it because of the featured temptress who had hair every bit as red and wild as Rose's. Everything about it was like a person were in a mythical dream. The redheaded woman who held an otherworldly grace of temptation, the grande steed, the bright glow of the knight's armor; all of it created a picture one could get lost in. Rose attempted to get lost in it weekly, and sometimes more.

"O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms, alone and palely loitering?" Rose recited.

"Besides having to put up with your wild temper, and a bad case of asthma, I'm doing fairly well," Scorpius laughed.

"It's from the poem the painting is based on, dimwit," said Rose.

"I knew that and was being ironic, swot."

"Who wrote the poem it's based on, prat?" she challenged.

"Keats, gasbag. I do occasionally listen when you go into your long speeches about paintings."

"You're on my good side again, then. Plus, I didn't feel like being a human thesaurus any longer. Want to get going?"

Scorpius acquiesced and they left the museum, Rose leading the way. With them, a good teasing argument usually settled any disagreement. The cool air gave Rose a lovely flush under her spattering of freckles. They walked in silence before Scorpius suddenly asked the question:

"Was there a particular reason you were so miffed at me, earlier? With Al and Brad it was fairly obvious, but me..."

Rose stopped at a window display and feigned interest in the vases there.

"So, was there a reason, or were you just exercising your right as a redhead to have a perilously short temper?"

"I was just a bit mad at you for escalating the argument with Brad, really," she said coolly. "All your annoying asides didn't help an already difficult situation."

"Ah, and here I thought you were jealous of my orgy with Lily and Mags," said Scorpius, demeanor calm.

Rose made a face and tossed her hair over her shoulder.

"You wouldn't do that," she stated firmly. Scorpius silently watched her reflection, eyebrow arched.

"Or at least Mags and Lily wouldn't do that. I'm still... unsure about your moral ambiguity."

"Hmm," he replied, seeing her flustered expression. "I must admit I can be very morally ambiguous. I suppose I'll just have to depend on you to rehabilitate me."

Scorpius then did something reckless. He was standing intimately close to her and took a curl from her forehead and pushed it to the side, his fingers grazing her pale brow. She seemed to hold her breath, but he could still smell the chocolate in it. Her blue eyes deepened, her delicate and inviting lips opened as her eyelids started to flutter shut. But suddenly Rose backed away with a great jerk and the spell was broken.

"Very funny, you dirty minded thing," she exclaimed, with an overdone laugh. "So! What were they doing in your apartment? Besides the 'orgy'— you can leave those details for someone who cares."

"They decided my wardrobe needed an update."

"I like your old clothes better."

"Lily sort of insisted—"

"Since when do you listen to anyone's advice on anything?"

Scorpius rolled his eyes. Rose always had an answer for everything, one of her traits that both annoyed and endeared her to him. In this case, though, she was chattering to keep him at bay.

"Well, perhaps this little experiment in fashion proves I am right in not listening to people's advice," he said. "But I do not want to argue about it anymore, Rose."

"Scorpius! Rose!" they heard from down the street.

They turned to see Lily bounding towards them. Scorpius supposed Al had told her about Rose's little street.

He was going to give a greeting when Lily pressed herself against him and kissed him. Had she been someone else, he imagined he would have greatly enjoyed such a kiss. It was far too long for propriety, and left him rather dazed as one of her hands snaked its way into his hair. After a few moments of her exploring his molars with her tongue she popped off of his face and gave him a sultry grin.

"Hullo, lover."

"Hi," he said with a great breath, trying not to pull a face.

"Hi..." Rose said in such a cantankerous way that Scorpius suddenly realized what had just transpired. Her expression looked somewhere between confusion, distaste and anger.

"So... What are you doing here?" Scorpius let out, his mind catching up to the situation as rapidly as it could. He would have to ask her to refrain from such kisses in the future as it muddled his brain.

"Brad Flooed me and told me what happened. We started looking in all the spots she might be, and I knew Rose comes here often enough. I'm not surprised you were the one to find her first. I definitely am going to give you another examination tonight."

Scorpius glanced between the two women, Lily giving him a rather convincing besotted look, and Rose giving an incredulous stare.

"Well," Scorpius swallowed, and calmed steadied himself before letting out the most stupid lie of his life.

"As you can see... Lily and I... We're involved."

"Involved," Rose repeated flatly.

"Wait a moment," Lily said before giving him a swat. "You haven't told her yet?"

"No," he said coming back to speed. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Rose. It just sort of ... happened."

"A few months ago, actually," Lily added. Albus was right. Lily was an incredibly adept liar, and continued to play her role perfectly. "With all the wedding plans he didn't want to distract from you and Brad, but I thought he must have told you by now."

Rose shook her head.

"No... No he didn't tell me a thing."

"We ok?" Scorpius asked, trying to look her in the eye.

She hesitated, then gave them a smile, never looking him in the eye.

"It's fine," she said. "Really, it is. There isn't always a time to say those kinds of things the way you want to. I guess that explains your taking her fashion advice."

"I'm glad you feel that way," Lily said breezily. "On another note, Brad is worried– and we need to do some tests on Scorpius to see what he's allergic to. Why don't you go back to your apartment and then we can figure out your flower arrangement?"

"Why don't we meet at your place, then Floo him, Lily?" Rose supplied. "We could apparate there right now, in fact. You've been to her place before, right Scorpius?"

Scorpius dumbly nodded. He had never been to Lily's home. He didn't even know if it was in London. Lily gave him a panicked look.

"Are you sure you want to come directly with us? Don't you want some alone time with Brad?" Lily asked.

"It's ok," Rose said, looking between Scorpius and Lily. "You two don't want alone time do you?"

Scorpius and Lily exchanged awkward glances.

"No no! There will plenty of time for us to be alone again when you're on your honeymoon," Lily supplied quickly. "But, uh, why don't you go ahead, and we'll meet you there. I have something private to tell him."

Rose made one of her faces. "Right... Well, see you there in a minute, then."

As she walked away, Lily gave her a little wave. Her other hand snaked into Scorpius' back pocket and gave it a squeeze that made him jump from her.

They could distantly hear Rose's apparation.

"Oh, God! She's going to my apartment! Why did you say you had been to my apartment?"

"I couldn't very well say I hadn't been to my girlfriend's place, could I?"

"Yes! Yes you could have! You won't know where any of my shit is, which will be a dead giveaway! Rose isn't stupid, remember?" Lily spat, clearly aggravated. "Are you sure you're a Slytherin? Because you are pathetic at this whole 'plotting' thing."

"I'm sorry, it's a bit hard to concentrate when your tongue is exploring my esophagus and your hand keeps grabbing my bum. Overkill much?".

"Ok, so I was a bit demonstrative. I'll try to hold back from making her jealous," Lily growled. "God, this is awkward as fuck."

"I agree with your sentiment," Scorpius said, giving her a look of distaste.

Lily rolled her eyes. "I could never date anyone so stuck up."

"Next time warn me before you touch me with that filthy mouth of yours," he said, leading the way to the Apparition point.

"Don't make me get those bouquets from the wedding, Asthma Boy!"

"Perhaps we can stick more to witty banter instead of wagging tongues, if you think you can manage."

"Fine. No more unexpected wagging-tongues. She'll get so jealous that you're arguing with me, instead of her, she'll dump Brad immediately," she said dryly.

"Well, at least warn me a bit. It befuddles the mind," he said. "And I need it to stay sharp for all the 'plotting' I'm so pathetic at."

"Let's just Apparate," she said holding his arm a bit too firmly.

Scorpius felt a squeeze around his chest. He hoped it was just due to the side-along apparition, and not nerves at having begun a farce that meant continually lying to his best and oldest friend.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[yourmoansareasymphony]

1. Do you bite or lick ice cream? I like to eat ice cream with a spoon. If I can choose between a cup and a cone I always pick a cup.

2. What is home to you? Might sound like a cliché but is true. Pixie.

3. What was the last lie you told? I lie to my cat often. Tell him I’m going to take him out or give him shrimps later but forget. He probably doesn’t trust me at all.

4. Does everyone deserve the truth? Of course not.

5. What is the creepiest toy ever made? Baby dolls.

6. Describe a moment in which you did something unacceptable in a bad situation. I borderline odeed on xans like a weasel.

7. List two things that are more easily done than said. (No, I didn’t mix them up.) Loving and hating.

8. When was the last time you worked really hard to achieve something? PhD.

9. How organized are you? Very. Organised and prepared.

10. If humans didn’t evolve to laugh or smile, how would we express our happiness instead? I don’t know.

11. How many romantic “things” or “flings” have you had? Just this one.

12. What is your favourite background noise? (Ex. Water dripping, people talking.) Heavy rain.

13. How many hearts do you think you have broken? A few, I’m afraid, but not intentionally. Some people just take sex as a promise of something more and perhaps those have been the moments when people have been disappointed.

14. What is the most annoying thing someone can do to you? Interrupt me when I speak.

15. Do you overexaggerate? The word “over” is unnecessary here? Yes, I do, sometimes when I’m angry. Or sometimes for comedy value.

16. Have you played any instruments before? Which instruments? I can play the piano. I’ve taken cello and guitar lessons. I have an ukulele but I’m not allowed to play because it’s annoying, apparently.

17. Do you like taking selfies? Why or why not? No. Because of my face.

18. Do you have what it takes to raise a child? Why or why not? I think I’d have everything concrete that it takes: time, money, maybe intellect. But what I don’t have is unconditional love. I can’t love a person just because they’re family. I might easily hate my child if he or she was an idiot or grew up to be a UKIP voter. I want to choose the people in my life.

19. How do you cheer yourself up after a bad day? I play with my cat.

20. When was the last time you felt awkward? Gary slept with us in our bed last night. I was in the middle and they were both more or less leaning on me and they both smelled like old booze.

21. Are you introverted or extroverted? Or a mixture of both? Introvert.

22. What constitutes a good friend? I was just asked what I love about my best friend.

23. Would you rather have a lot of friends to hang out with or just one best friend? I like having a best friend. Quality over quantity.

24. In a regular day, what do you not want to hear? “Bark bark bark the liberal elite moo moo moo unelected bureaucrats.”

25. What is your dream job? Prime Minister.

26. What is a truth about yourself that others find hard to believe? My followers don’t seem to believe that I don’t masturbate. I think the last time I did was in 2012 or 2013. It is true, you wankers!

27. What have you always wondered about the other gender? Why they don’t murder more.

28. Which fantasy world would you like to visit the most? The post-apocalyptic world of the film The Road, to see how long I’d survive.

29. Imagine that you have switched bodies with someone you don’t know. You can’t switch back. What do you do? Go on with my life. Celebrate. I’d probably look a lot better.

30. If you found the recipe for immortality, would you sell it or would you burn it? I most definitely wouldn’t sell it. I would keep it and hide it and give myself at least a decade to think about what to do with it.

31. What is the most important, applicable class you have ever taken? Maths.

32. Name the last book you read. I’m reading All The Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr.

33. When was the last time you made the first move? 9,5 years ago.

34. What is your opinion on electronic music such as dubstep or trap? I don’t listen to it. No opinion.

35. What was the last movie you watched? Star Wars: The Force Awakens

36. Do you like and appreciate your life? Yes.

37. Do you like and appreciate yourself? Appreciate, yes. Like, not always.

38. When was the last time you cried? Christmas.

39. What are you scared of? Babies. Well, not scared of but they creep me out.

40. What is the most embarrassing, cringe-worthy thing you have ever done? I’m still mortified about the wedding.

41. What is a superficial yet annoying mistake you constantly make? Our London house is a “smart” house, this is a very stupid one. I close the bathroom door and stand in the dark for a few seconds until I remember that there’s no motion sensor and that I have to switch the lights on myself. Sometimes I forget to switch them off.

42. Are you a good friend? What makes you a good friend? If not, what makes you a bad friend? Loyal but clingy.

43. Do you honestly learn from your mistakes? Honestly, I’m not sure.

44. What have you learned the hard way? Pixie doesn’t want her nipples touched.

45. What is the most important thing to have in order to attain happiness? Statistically, money. And I agree with the statistics.

46. Which medium do you use for expressing your artistic emotions? (Singing, writing, etc.) Dance.

47. Are you a creative or a logical thinker? Both, I’d like to think. Why do people always assume that these are mutually exclusive? I think these are often found in the same person.

48. What is the smartest thing you have ever done? Left home the way I did.

49. What is the worst thing someone could do on a date? Pay the bill without asking? Murder?

50. Do you like animals? Which kind is your favourite? Kitty.

51. If you could turn one legal thing illegal, what would it be? Voting, if you’re stupid. There should be two pages on the ballot. First page: 1 x 1, which party/parties form the government at the moment, what is the EU? All 3 answers must be correct and if they’re not they will discard your ballot without counting it.

52. Do you have any guilty pleasures? Pimple popping videos.

53. What is the best thing that the internet has ever created? Human connections for introverts.

54. Are you a morning person? When do you usually wake up? Not a morning person at all. I’m physically unable to smile before noon.

55. Do you have a favourite Disney movie? Character? Dumbo. Got stuff done without talking.

56. Would you rather live in the city or in the countryside? City.

57. Would you rather live near the ocean or in the mountains? Mountains.

58. What are the best things about winter? Heh, I just talked about this with someone. I like it when my nose hair freeze when I inhale. It’s satisfying.

59. What scares you most about the future? Nothing really scares me. Stupidity depresses me.

60. What makes you feel old? My Tumblr followers.

61. How many hours do you spend on the computer or phone on average? 2-3 hours?

62. What bad habits do you do? I clean my ears with cotton buds.

63. Most prominent childhood memory? Oh boy, maybe not.

64. Imagine if you had an older brother. If you already have one, what is it like? If you don’t, how would this change your life? I have two older brothers. One’s a twin, the other one I haven’t seen since I was 18 and do not care to. Having a brother is nice, because he’s nice.

65. Do you believe in horoscopes? Of course not.

66. What is the worst advice you’ve ever been given? I rarely take advice but all these “everything happens for a reason” blaa-di-blaas are really irritating. (I don’t think they mean determinism.)

67. List the 3 most important people in your life right now. Pixie, Gary, Aaron.

68. Do you have a role model? Why or why not? No, because nobody’s perfect.

69. What is your opinion on social media? I’m not on Facebook or Twitter. It’s aggravating how everyone has the chance and the right to post whatever they wish, true or not, and there’s a constant terrifying false balance in these conversations. On the other hand, it’s a great tool to detect which one of your friends or acquaintances is actually a moron and therefore you can avoid them in future.

70. Are you a pessimist or an optimist? Still, realist.

71. List some things that you think are overpriced? Pink hygiene products.

72. What is your worst memory or creepiest experience? Amba’s death and what lead to it.

73. What are some things you did as a child that you no longer do? I don’t put so much sugar in my tea.

74. What languages can you speak? BSL, English, Finnish.

75. Favourite food? Raw beef.

76. What is the most terrifying dream you’ve ever had? I had raped Pixie, didn’t remember doing it and couldn’t understand why. I was trying to find a building high enough but every time I got on the roof the building had shrunk.

77. When was the last time you got seriously angry? Christmas.

78. What was the last friendship you broke? I haven’t broken any. Some of them just dry out.

79. Do you have any pet peeves? Yeah, don’t interrupt me when I’m talking.

80. Who was the last person you gave a hug to? Gary, when he left earlier today.

81. When was the last time you got seriously stressed? Last September.

82. What did you want to be when you were little? Dancer.

83. What are some things that you are good at? I’m getting good at knitting socks.

84. What is one thing you want to be good at? I’d like to be a better driver. I’m not bad but the reality is that I’ve driven all my adult life in central London and it doesn’t take much skill. Just don’t kill cyclists or pedestrians. I look up to Pixie (and she looks down on me). We were in her home town one Christmas and she was driving. We were looking for a parking space and saw one on the other side of the street. I thought we’d go around the block and then parallel park like normal people but no, what followed was a handbrake U-turn on ice and a neat drift right into the spot. Her spatial orientation is excellent in general. She knows instantly whether a piece of clothing will fit, whether a large object will fit in the car. We haven’t competed but I think she’d beat me in Tetris and I’m really good. And I know I’m a good driver as well but her mad skills just make me feel inadequate. She gets frustrated if I need to adjust when I’m parking.

85. What distracts you the most, especially when you’re trying to work? My own thoughts. My mind wanders so easily.

86. How important is privacy to you? Essential.

87. If you could create one social norm, what would it be? I’d like to end the greeting fascism. We all have to say hi to people we haven’t really been in contact with in years. People from school, your previous neighbours, current neighbours, your best friend’s aunt, the cousin of your childhood geography teacher, fucking everyone. One of the greatest things about moving here is that I don’t know many people. In London walking to work was always hi, hi, hello, hello, morning, yes, it’s you again, hello.

88. What’s the craziest lie you’ve ever told? I’ve lied to children. I told the Greek kid that my iPad doesn’t show cartoons because it’s an adult iPad and made her watch Brian Cox and she believed me. I told a kid once that I can forge bank notes by drawing them. That my wife is a witch. That there are pirates buried under our house. All sorts of crazy things. Children are idiots!

89. What story do you like to tell about yourself at parties? I don’t tell stories about myself.

90. What is the stupidest thing you’ve done to impress someone? Acrobatics. It starts with me and Pixie, me saying “hey, watch this!” and then I break a bone.

91. What is your morning routine? Pee, brush teeth, feed the cat.

92. If karma was coming back to you, would it help or hurt you? Help.

93. What is your opinion on playing “hard to get?” If you think it’s attractive, fine. But it might not get you the result you want.

94. What are the pros and cons of straightforward? Getting things said and done efficiently. People getting upset.

95. Are you the friend-zoner or the friend-zoned? Such thing does not exist. There are just dicks who think that being nice should be awarded with sex.

96. What is your opinion on “going with the flow?” Don’t. 

97. Do you enjoy talking or listening? When the topic is interesting I enjoy both.

98. When was the last time you had a deep conversation with someone? Yesterday, with Gary.

99. Do you have any self-restraint? Lots.

100. What advice would you give to yourself 5 years ago? I would advise myself to take care of myself because by not doing so I’ve caused a lot of sorrow.

I’m going to try and drop this bomb on @my-wanton-self, @theklicker, @nirhauma​, @cherrytintedmusings, @agythi, @nakedbutterfly​ and @cherrypies​.