#the way it was like 'i believe george!' instantly and crap

[thetimelordbatgirl]

Some people really saw George and Dream essentially do victim blaming and actually suggest silence is consent and actually proceeded to still support the two, huh?

[rhenuvee]

The Heart in You pt2 (Fred Weasley x reader)

Request: Could you do something along these lines? Love you soo much <3 your imagines make me happier. It would mean the world to me if you could do this!! Request: Could you write a Fred Weasley imagine where the reader is Fred's best friend but they never really show affection, they insult each other all the time and occasionally Fred flirts, teasingly. But Fred gets all nervous and goes soft when y/n is visiting their home since its so small and you know.. they're poor and stuff... thanks <3

Link to pt1: Here

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You were peacefully walking through the corridors, ready to spend a cozy Sunday afternoon being warm from the cold with your friends. It was quite surprising how little disturbance there was, as if you were in a scene in a movie. 

That is, until you heard the sudden roars of laughter, clapping, and awe. You gritted your teeth- you knew that the peace was too good to be true. You decided to change your direction, hoping that this path would bring an end to this once and for all. 

This was something you’ve been dealing with for the past week, and it’s been pissing you off. You found the source of the crowd of noise, seeing that it was coming from out in the courtyard. It was just as you expected. 

“-and then there I was, cornered! Like a poor gazelle standing out in the open!” narrated a voice you knew too well. You stood watching from a distance with your arms folded, seeing as a specific redhead told a story you almost knew by heart by now.

Just as rehearsed for the past seven days a week, you saw the same dramatic gestures by none other than Fred Weasley. His stupid chocolate brown eyes which you couldn’t bother to look at, his stupid smile which you swore he had on 24/7- Although you had to admit, something even more stupid was the first and second years genuinely interested and believing in his anecdote. 

“I almost died, but I stayed strong!” you facepalmed as he scrunched up his face way too dramatically. “She- the lion, sneaking up, ready to jump out and-”

“WEASLEY!” you yelled interrupting him, hearing enough of his crap. It seemed to scare some of the first and second years as they jumped and turned to see you.

“It’s the lion! Run!” shouted Fred. The kids yelled their lungs out and ran in all different directions all to get away from ‘the lion’. You marched your way to Fred, trudging your way towards him. You didn’t care about your shoes getting wet from the snow, all you cared about was slapping that smirk off his face.

“Yes?” he said rather casually from his spot, leaning against the wall.

“Yes? That’s all you have to say to the ferocious lion?” you asked incredulously. He chuckled.

“Actually, I do have something to say, though we may need a spell to translate between your roaring.” You scoffed at his terrible joke.

“I hate you.” 

“We know that’s a lie, love.” You rolled your eyes. You knew that the reason the story started in the first place was because of that day you asked him to the yule ball. He tricked you, and his ego was just getting bigger. 

“And what makes you think that?” you retorted.

“You’re the one who asked me to the ball, love.” he said scoffing. You mentally slapped yourself for having a question with an obvious answer. The term of endearment definitely didn’t help in trying to hide your embarrassment. 

“I was drunk.” you replied quickly. Fred in turn laughed at your quick statement, causing you to laugh a little.

“Really? Then you should get drunk more often.” 

“I think you’re drunk, gazelle.” you said poking his chest then turning to leave. Though, this didn’t stop him from hopping from his place and catching up with you.

“Am I now?” he asked pressing further.

“Yes Fred, bye.” you said as you were about to leave him and turn a corner.

“Alright, don’t miss me too much darling!” 

“Fred!”

---

“Hey (y/n)!” called someone from behind you. You stopped and turned to see George who was slowing down to stop near your spot. 

“Hey George. What’s going on?”

“Are you doing anything this holiday?” he asked.

“Hm, probably just gonna go home for the break, same as every year... why?” 

“I was wondering if you’d like to come to ours for Christmas.” Your eyes widened at his offer. You had never been to the burrow before.

“You don’t have to, but I know it would make a certain gazelle really happy.” he teased. You rolled your eyes.

“If it would make him happy, why couldn’t he ask me himself?” 

“Well riddle me this, would a gazelle purposely perch itself out in the open where any predator- ow!” You playfully punched George in the arm, seeing as the story was starting to rub on him.

“Sorry- what I meant to say was, it would also make myself, Ginny and Ron really happy. You’re our best friend (y/n)... also, mum’s been asking for you as well.” 

“Your mum? Asking about me?” you said shocked.

“You’ve been mentioned here and there.” he said casually. You bit your lip, trying to supress a smile. You were invited to the burrow, which you’ve heard only good things from Harry and Hermione. 

“Alright, I’ll send an owl to my parents and ask them.” you said. He nodded with a grin, knowing his twin would be ecstatic to hear this. 

---

Your parents were a little surprised that you were going to spend the holidays at the burrow. They’ve never met the twins, just like how Arthur and Molly only heard a few things about you. Nonetheless, they were glad to see you so happy to be with your friends. On another note, you were very very nervous. Maybe it was because of seeing the rest of the Weasley family, but also for very stupid reasons. 

“Oh (y/n), it’s so good to finally meet you dear! Come inside now!” You were welcomed by Molly herself, engulfing you in a tight and warm hug.  You smiled, instantly relieved that Molly liked you enough to hug you.

“I’ve heard so many things about you.” she said maintaining a bright smile. 

“And I’ve heard that you heard many things, all good I hope.” you said.

“Only the best.” she said swiping your cheek then turning to lead you deeper into the house. You walked in, and your eyes couldn’t help put to move left and right. 

“(Y/n)!” You then saw Ginny appear, running as fast as she could down the stairs, then jumping and hugging you just like her mother did. You both squealed in excitement. 

“Hey idiots! Your favourite person is here!” Ginny yelled calling for the twins. 

“Ginny!” scolded Molly with her arms crossed. You giggled. You watched as the two tall figures stepped down to where you were.

“Well look who it is.” George said smirking and leaning in for a hug. Once you pulled away, you saw Fred, but you couldn’t help but notice something was weird about him.

“Hi.” he said curtly, but with a small smile. 

“Hey...?” you greeted, letting your confusion be slightly present. He also went in for a hug, though it was a lot lighter than the ones you’ve received so far.

“Do you want any food?” asked Fred. 

“Um sure.” you shrugged. You thought it was a little strange that Fred was being so ‘nice’ to you. I mean, like George said, would a gazelle let itself stand in the open and offer food for a predator? But you decided to brush the thought off, besides, you really ought to get that dumb story out of your head.

The first evening with the Weasley’s went well. You were able to meet the rest of the family as well as Harry and Hermione which you realized later that they were here. Molly’s cooking was delicious, and you were glad to be apart of the holiday gathering. You were glad that everyone was willing to welcome you, despite being new to the burrow. 

It wasn’t until a couple hours after dinner, when it was late and you spotted Fred and George sitting on the couch, fiddling with what you expected was some of their future joke shop products.

“Hey.” you said heading over to sit with them. George smiled, then quickly jumped up to leave.

“I gotta go to the bathroom. See ya!” he said a bit too joyfully. I mean- tis the season, but one could not be that excited to go to the bathroom. You then scooched closer to Fred, and he noticed with a small grin. 

“Hey you.” he said bringing his lanky arm to wrap around you and bring you even closer. You blushed at the extremely close proximity between you two, but if you were being honest, you didn’t mind one bit. This was secretly what you wanted, right?

You remembered the day you asked Fred to the yule ball quite clearly. After that incident, he was a huge ball of chaos and energy. You remember him skipping down halls, and how you had to chase him to shut up when he started the gazelle story.

And when the night of the ball finally arrived, you were a big bundle of nerves- and Fred was being a cocky little shit as usual... but aside from that, there were things he did that made you have the most fun you’ve ever had in your life. You didn’t forget how much he made you laugh and smile that night. 

And now, you let the thought of his silence creep over again. He spoke and cracked jokes during dinner, but he was still quieter than you’ve experienced. You sat in the same silence as he seemed to be fixing a product.

“Fred...?” you said looking at him, a little surprised that your faces were closer than you expected. 

“Hm?” 

“Uh, are you okay?” you asked. You tried to ask it in the most subtle way possible. He only looked at you with an unreadable expression. The weirdest thing being that he had no witty comeback, or any line to start your typical banter. 

“Yeah.” he said giving a closed mouthed smile again, then looking back at the joke products. Jeez, why did boys have to be so hard to read? To you at least. 

“I just, ‘m surprised you accepted when George invited you here.” he muttered, but you heard it loud and clear. 

“And why would you be surprised?” You didn’t know what to feel. His head pointed downwards- suddenly this moment felt really familiar. You were a bit skeptical if you were being truthful. After a long pause, he suddenly chuckled awkwardly to himself and sat up, leaned back until his head was tilted back on the top edge of the couch.

“I’m mad for you.” he said shifting himself so that his head was still tilted back but facing you. All your jumbling thoughts couldn’t force itself out of your mouth. You just sat there, your eyes bulging out of your head, and mouth in an o shape.

“W-what?” you managed to say. Now you were very very skeptical of what was to happen. You do not want to be tricked by him again, and leave you a blushing mess. 

“I’m mad for you- do you need me to spell it out?” he asked. With the dim lighting you couldn’t see the slight flush of red on his cheeks. He brought his hand to cover his eyes, still showing his lips which were curved up in a flustered smile. 

“I- are you being serious?” you asked in confirmation. 

“Am I- yes I am (y/n), I’m mad for you. I said it three times, now you gotta believe me.” he said taking away the hand covering his face. You didn’t even try to hide the pink tinting your face. You shook your head, not knowing what to say.

“You still don’t believe me do you.” he deadpanned. You didn’t answer to that. He chuckled, already knowing your answer. In one swift motion, he cupped your cheek with his hand and brought you in closer for a kiss. You closed your eyes as his lips pressed against and moved in sync with yours. 

You moved so that you were able to put both your hands on his shoulders to bring him closer. You could feel the hum from his lips when he heard you let out a little noise. Both of you were speechless blushing messes once you pulled away with the ‘smooch’ sound.

“Believe me now?” he said in almost a whisper. You nodded frantically, earning a smirk from Fred, as well as a beckoning gesture to ask you to cuddle next to him. You followed, snuggling up to his side, resting your head on his shoulder.

...

“I always knew you had a heart in you.” 

...

“Excuse me?” 

You tried burying your head further inwards, as you attempted to stifle your giggles about to erupt. Yes, you really did just pull that card on Fred Weasley.

“What did you just say?” asked Fred ducking his head to your level, trying to get a glimpse of what he hoped did not just come out of your mouth. 

“Nothing!”

“You did not say nothing, princess.” he said trying to pry your hands clutching your face as you finally gave in and let out your laughter. You made the split second decision to bolt out of the living room and into the dining room to run away. Fred of course had no problem running after you. 

You were both giggly as heck as you both circled the dining table, which happened to be the only thing protecting you.

“Take it back!’

“No!”

And once you said that, he made a dash for the tight corner and was able to capture you from behind. You squirmed with your legs kicking out as he held you tightly and swung you in a circle.

“Take it back!” he said in your ear.

“I won’t! This is what you get Weasley.” 

“What I get? For what?”

“For...-” You realized then that if you said the reason, he would know that he was the reason you got flustered in the first place.

“What? Am I too handsome for you?” he asked as he placed you down, but still pinned you to the counter. 

“In your dreams!”

“And in real life too.” 

“Ugh, you’re so annoying.” you huffed crossing your arms. However, your attempt at trying not to smile failed horribly when you turned your head away from him.

“That means I won, princess.” he said smirking and tilting your head back to face him.

“Oh shut up Fred, you-”

“Make me shut up-”

“Whoa whoa whoa!” You and Fred both jumped when you saw George and Ginny intrude. And worse, when you were both getting riled up at each other. 

“There will be no ‘make me shut up’ in this house.” said George mockingly as Ginny stood next to him laughing. You deadpanned at Ginny clearly not helping the situation.

“You’re not going to encourage them? It’s about time.” said Ginny.

“Gin, if you knew me, you’d know that I’m not even surprised.” replied George sarcastically.

“Oh sod off, both of you. Bein’ two creeps.” said Fred shooing them away. George and Ginny gave each other a knowing look and did as told. Fred then immediately turned back to focusing on you.

“So, what were you thinking on making me shut up?”

[boxofbadaddiction]

Those Three Little Words

Fred Weasley x Reader

This story is inspired from a request of my F.R.I.E.N.D.S Themed Prompt List.

Prompts: 10 & 11

"Until I was 25, I thought the only response to 'I love you' was 'Oh, crap!'"/"Ah, Humour based on my pain. Aha-ha-ha."

Warnings: Swearing (per usual). Anxiety. Toxic Family. Emotional Trauma(?). Angsty. Post-War.

The War had been a sick wakeup call for Fred. He'd lived his life carefree and reckless, as he figured each day were a given. Mess up today it didn't matter because there was always tomorrow. He would strut through life as if he were invincible because, well, he always seemed that way. But death has a funny way of reshuffling ones priorities. A way of shedding light on what truly matters in your life.

Fred never considered himself as someone who lacked ambition. Frankly George and he never seemed to let anything hold them back. However, these days Fred could very well give Slytherins a run for their money - something George frequently teased him about. If there were something he wanted Merlin himself couldn't get in his way.

Not only in the case of work but his personal life as well. In love. And there was only one woman on Earth he loved. [Y/N].

He knew he loved her before the war. Before Umbridge drove him from Hogwarts in their final year. Before she left him.

It was only shortly prior, the boys epic departure, that [Y/N] had made the decision to call it quits. She knew their lives were destined to pull them in opposite directions and she never put much stock in long distance relationships. So, with a final kiss and a wish good luck, she walked out of his life. Albeit not completely.

After graduation she kept loosely in touch with the Twins, they had been friends after all, even visiting their shop on the off occasion when she could swing it. Although she was often far too busy to stay for long. Eventually she was relocated overseas for work, this officially terminating any of the limited contact had between the three.

The next time they would be in each others presence was the ill-fated battle.

[Y/N] had been keeping tabs on the events leading up to the fight. Even engaging in missions on behalf of the Order when necessary. She had proved quite a valuable asset. In the days before all Hell broke loose [Y/N] returned to Britian on 'urgent family matters' and of course she fought.

When Fred saw her again after so many years the rush of feelings that coursed through his body were nearly enough to knock him off balance. She was still so gorgeous. The [E/C] of her eyes reminding him just how deeply he loved her. Just how much he needed her. And he knew. Just knew she felt the same.

He saw it in the little things she did for him. Saw it in the tears of her eyes. In the way she broke down in his Hospital room when he finally woke, a fortnight, after his accident. Heard it in the tremble of her voice. In her 'I thought I lost you's. In the way she clung to him. He was so relieved she was okay and so happy to finally have her back in his life. Until suddenly...she wasn't anymore.

Recovery was Freds life now, but that wasn't hers. She was still needed elsewhere and as much as he wished she would stay he knew she couldn't. She still had a life left living. It were a miracle she managed to stay as long as she had. So...she left. And he wouldn't see her again for years. Six. To be exact.

Recovery had taken years from Fred. It was two and a half years before he could consider himself independent. After all that time wasted he wasn't about to let anything stand in his way. So when news carried to his ears that [Y/N] was back living in London, permanently, that after six years he could see her again, there was nothing holding him back.

In a second he'd apparated to her doorstep. Knocking on the withered wood door. Listening to the faint patter of approaching footsteps. Hearing the gentle click of the locks tumblers as they turned. Watching the steady swing of the door as it opened. Feeling the prick of burning tears behind his eyes as he stared back into her questioning gaze. Pulling her body into his as their lips collided. Relishing in the warmth that spread through his blood as she kissed back. Clung back. Loved him back. Everything he poured into her she gave right back. He swore right in that moment that he'd never let her go again. They'd wasted so much time already.

Over a year later the two could not have been deeper in love. She'd moved into the boys flat mere months after he appeared at her door. It's what Fred wanted, and Fred always gets what he wants.

Fred and Georges business had picked up quite quickly after the war. Fred insisted George begin work on the restorations while he recovered. Saying he wanted everything back in full swing by the time he was upright, to pick right back where he left off. George was sure he simply didn't fancy cleaning it himself and saw recovery as a pretty convenient excuse. Fred didn't deny his brothers claim.

They'd managed to open a second store in Hogsmead and were currently renovating the original store. Expanding the flat and lower levels. This saw the three residents temporarily relocating to the Burrow for a few days as the work was completed. Molly had insisted, saying the house were 'far too quiet' for her liking. Which was hard to believe as Ron and Hermione and Ginny and Harry all currently lived there. Of course Bill and Fleur, as well as Percy had all moved out ages ago, and Charlie was back living in Romania. Still, it beats paying accommodation elsewhere. And they couldn't deny that spending time back in their childhood home was enjoyable. It felt warm and safe and familiar, like the war had never happened and they were all just spending time together as a family.

As dinner approached on their third day home [Y/N] and Harry could be found helping prepare tonights meal, under the careful instruction of Mrs Weasley, while the rest sat comfortably within the sitting room fondly reminiscing their times spent together just like they were now.

The group were laughing haughtily at a certain memory George had recalled in which [Y/N] turned Rons entire bedroom hot pink with the Twins 'Everlasting Dye', after he thought it'd be funny to turn her hair a similar shade. Much like [Y/N]'s hair the dye hadn't faded for well over a fortnight as the Twins found the whole thing all too funny and refused them the instant remover.

"God, I love her." Fred smiled brightly at the memory, "I'm going to marry that woman." He stated matter-of-factly.

"Sure she likes you that much?" Ginny quipped.

"Certain, dear Sister." Ginny simply nodded a look of uncertainty on her face. "What's that look for?" "Nothing." "Ginny." "well it's just...she doesn't really say it much does she?" "'Course she does. What are you on about?" "I just don't think I've ever actually heard her say she loves you before." "It's not like you're 'round us 24/7 now is it?" Fred scoffed, shaking off his sisters comment.

George meanwhile was staring towards the ceiling, brows furrowed as he contemplated Ginnys words deeply before letting out a low "hmmp" as realisation struck.

"Oh, what now?" Fred rolled his attention toward his Twin. "Nothing it's just I can't think of a time I've heard her say it either." Ginny had a look of 'I told you so' blatantly obvious on her face while Ron and Hermione thought hard on the topic as well. Freds gaze shifted quickly between his gathered family.

"Oh, so what if you've never heard it. Point is I have. And I know she loves me so it doesn't matter. But if you all must! Here," he leant back in his chair calling into the kitchen "Hey, [Y/N/N]!" "Yeah, Freddie?" She walked toward him with a loving smile. "I love you" [Y/N]'s smile faded instantly as she raised a suspicious brow, "What'd you do?" "What!?" Fred asked shocked as the eavesdroppers giggled. "No. Nothing, really! I just wanted to tell you I love you." "Oh...well I know that" she smiled, kissing him softly. Fred gave her an expectant look as she stood back. "...what?" "you love me too, yeah?" "Of course I do." There was a determination behind her words. Almost as if she were insulted by his question, to which the answer were painstakingly obvious. She soothingly ran a hand through his hair, "I've got to get back in there and help your Mother before Harry burns everything." She joked, placing a final quick kiss to his lips. He watched her leave a giddy smile on his face before turning back to his nosey family.

"See. Told you." He laid back in his seat confidently. The group all shared tight lipped, awkward, smiles. "Oh, what?!" "It's just she didn't really say it, did she?" George spoke. "Yeah she did. I asked her and she said 'yes'. End of conversation." "But she didn't actually say the words; 'I love you'." Ginnys voice intervened. "She doesn't have to." "Shouldn't it be sort of automatic?" "Like you and Harry say it every time." He rolled his eyes. "Pretty much" Ginny nodded, earning an unconvinced scoff from her brother. "Here, watch."

Ginny mirrored Freds earlier movements, calling to the kitchen, "Hey, Harry!" "Yeah, Gin?" Harry came to his fiancès call. She smiled up at him sweetly, "I love you". Harry looked around the group a little uncomfortable and unsure but smiled nonetheless. "I love you too" he placed a quick kiss to her temple. "Right, that's all I wanted you can go now." Ginny turned back in her chair as Harry walked away very confused.

"Automatic." She gestured widely with her hands, a triumphant look on her face. "Oh piss off." Fred scowled. "Doesn't matter if she 'says the words' or not. I know she loves me. Doesn't bother me." "Good for you, Freddie." Ron spoke encouragingly. "So you're on my side?" "Absolutely!" "It wouldn't bother you if Hermione never-" "oh GOD no! She has to say the words. I need the reassurance." He looked up to his girlfriend, who in turn lovingly took his hand in hers.

"Alright. So it's a little strange. But I bet I can have her saying it before we leave." "In four days?" George questioned, sceptical. "Yep. I'll make her." "How romantic. With charm like that it's a wonder why she hasn't said it already." His Twin chuckled. "Why don't you just talk to her about it? Maybe there's a reason." Hermione piped. "Nah. My ways better." Fred shook his head, tapping his knees lightly as he thought.

And so began, what Fred would soon discover to be, the most difficult challenge he'd ever attempted.

It started out simply enough; with a few added 'I love you's here and there. Whether the moment called for it or not. Although after the war Fred had become notably more vocal in expressing his love towards family and friends, he kicked it up a notch in an attempt to coax those very words from the mouth of his partner. Quickly escalating to more grand and romantic gestures.

The first was a ridiculously large bouquet of vividly yellow roses. Moving onto a private picnic for two atop the Hill which rested behind the Burrow. At sunset he had dragged [Y/N] from the home to where he laid a blanket and candles, with soft music playing in the background, as well as having organised a platter of all their favourite foods. Ending the meal rather...intimately. During which he was sure to further praise her and whisper sweet, loving words in her ear. Telling her just how much he loved her.

His constant showering of affection had granted him plenty of appreciation in return. His words always being met with the usual "I do too"s and "Me too"s even a couple "Dittos" they always had, though he was yet to receive any "I love you"s. Which hadn't bothered him before, but now was proving to be mildly infuriating and very disheartening, really.

Failure wasn't something Fred was used to anymore. To think he was unable to get his long term partner to say those three little words was quickly making him uncomfortable.

By the fourth and final morning, since setting himself this little challenge, Fred was spent. He was sure he'd tried everything. Grand gestures. Romantic dates. Surprise kisses. Great sex. He had even seriously considered proposing, as a last resort. But these were not the circumstances in which he wanted to do so under, when he did he wanted it to be perfect. Maybe the Imperius - NO! no. Too drastic.

Why was nothing working? Suddenly Ginnys amusing quip wasn't so funny anymore and struck a vein far too close to home. Was it possible he was wrong and she simply didn't feel the same way?

All manner of sickeningly worrisome thoughts began to flood through his mind as he lay awake. He starred at the woman he loved so fiercely, so passionately, he could swear she were the only reason his heart kept bleeding.

He watched her as she slept peacefully, tucked tight against his chest, whilst he absent-mindedly stroked her hair, contemplating a reality which he much rather never come true. One in which she didn't love him.

He used to be so sure but now...now he was terrified. He'd never thought much on what form his Boggart would assume if he ever were to face one. He knew in this moment though that is exactly what shape it would take. Her.

She'd approach him slowly. An evil grin and amused brow raised upon her features. She'd tell him what a fool he was. How stupid he was to ever think a woman like her could love a boy like him. That she only stayed with him out of pity. How humiliated and desperate he seemed that day on her doorstep. How it would have been better if he had just given up, never fought to survive after the explosion. How much better it'd have been if he just died in War. She could have found real love, lived a happy life away from the embarrassing one she led with him in it.

Tears burned red in the whites of his eyes as his chest shuddered with every quickened and panicking breath he took. His heart thundering in his ears as the room began to spin. He was suffocating. Sweat streamed down his temples. He had to get out. Escape.

Sliding as quickly and carefully as he could from beneath the covers without disturbing the sleeping woman in his bed, he took for the shower. Praying the steam would unfog his mind. That the water would wash away his doubts and anxiety.

The whole time he tried to rationalise why [Y/N] wouldn't say the words. Reassuring himself that it didn't matter. Shouldn't matter. He left the bathroom long after the water had run cold feeling only moderately better than when he'd entered. At least now he had a modicum of control over his body. His emotions on the other hand...

He slowly descended the steps of his childhood home, face emotionless, to the sound of light chatter and clinking of various dishes. Everyone was already gathered around the table eating breakfast.

"Ah, there you are!" George announced as Fred entered the kitchen, "clean now are we? Thought you'd must have drowned in there." He joked. Fred offered a light chuckle and forced smile as he sat himself between his Twin and partner. "What's this the wake then?"

[Y/N] leant into his side, placing a kiss to his cheek as her hand traced circles on his lower back. "Morning, Hun" she murmured tenderly, chin resting against his shoulder as she peered up at him. He didn't look at her, simply humming in response. His hand briefly came to squeeze her thigh before quickly retracting. This did little to evoke a sense of ease within his significant other.

Over the eighteen months they'd shared together [Y/N] had long since become accustomed to his dramatic morning greetings. Usually, as they'd wake up together, it'd involve him peppering her face and neck in countless kisses before joining George for breakfast. On days when they'd wake to find themselves alone under the covers, the other having obviously awoke long ago, he'd surprise her. Lifting her off her feet and spinning her through the air then, placing her back down, kissing her deeply.

The only times she'd seen him like this were nights when his dreams had been plagued with flashbacks from the Battle. She assumed he'd slept peacefully. He hadn't had any nightmares in months and would usually, unintentionally, wake her during them. "You okay, Freddie?" "Yeah."

Totally convincing.

The rest of the day Fred was cold. To everyone but [Y/N] especially. He was having difficulty even looking at her. She'd tried talking with him but he insisted there was nothing the matter. Didn't keep her from worrying.

After dinner everyone moved into the lounge, engaging in various bits of conversation. Everyone aside from Fred. No one was sure when he'd disappeared but his absence was noted nonetheless. [Y/N] was the one to search for him. Found standing within the garden over looking the sunset.

She could see the discontent held in his body, the way he stood so rigid. The hollow expression on his features, completely devoid of any emotion. It hurt her seeing him this way.

"Hey, You." She spoke hesitantly. Fred turned at the sound of her voice. Watching her standing tentatively before him as if unsure whether or not her presence was welcome. "Hey, You" he smiled sadly back, his frame visibly relaxing at the sight of her. "We're all missing you in there. What are you doing out here all by your lonesome?" [Y/N] said softly as she approached him, arms snaking around his waist. His hands fell to her lower back and pulled her into his body ever more so. "Just needed a bit of quiet to think" "'Think', huh?" He hummed in response. "That's never good" she grinned making him laugh lightly. "No, it isn't." He placed a slow kiss to her lips.

Breaking it shortly after as he teased, "So, you missed me?" "Every second you're not by my side I do." He rested his forehead against hers, their eyes falling shut contently. Fred exhaled comfortably,"I love you" "I do too" [Y/N] replied. "What love you?" Fred straightened himself with a cheeky expression on his face which was mirrored on that of his partners. "Stop it." "I'm serious." "You know what I mean" "Do I?".

[Y/N] had another quip ready on the tip of her tongue until noticing that cheery look he held had vanished and they were no longer standing in one anothers embrace. Her face dropped at the sight if a completely serious Fred Weasley stood in front of her. Awaiting the answer to a question she didn't fully understand. "Whats gotten into you?" She took a step toward him, to which, he took one back. "Do you love me?" "Of course I do!" "Then why don't you say it?" "I don't know what you're -" "you never say it." "I just did." "No, you agreed to a question I asked." "It's the same thing." "It's not."

The two were practically talking on top of one another. "Just...say it." He took a step towards her, to which, she took one back. "If I say it now it'll be forced and it may as well not mean anything." "Why can't you just say it!?" He snapped, more asking himself the question than her. But he needed to ask. He wasn't yelling at her but a part of [Y/N] wished he would. "I know you love me. Or at least I thought I did. I just...I need to hear you say it because sometimes I can't help but wonder - please just. Say it." Staring into her eye's pleadingly, hers stared right back in apology. "Fred..." "Forget it." He turned from her. "Fred, baby" her hand reached for his shoulder as his own ran through his hair in frustration whilst his jaw clenched. "I can't. I can't be near you right now." He shook his head, storming off towards the Hill. Ignoring her frantic, begging calls.

[Y/N] stood rooted to the spot from shock. This was one of the first fights the pair had had, and she wasn't even sure what brought it on. There'd been minor squabbles between them out of stress from work or other things but never something like this. They had such an open relationship it never got to this point, any concerns either held was always voiced and discussed. Why was this time different?

As she watched his figure slowly disappear amongst the dark as night was soon to fall, she made her decision. This time wasn't going to be different. They were going to talk about it whether he cared to or not. Even if that meant her admitting somethings she'd very much hoped never have to. So, she set off after him.

Fred stood with his back against the trunk of an old tree which grew tall on top the Hill. One hand in his pocket as the other ran his fingers over the markings carved into it's wood by the Weasley family. One engraving in particular. A relatively fresh one where he had carved [Y/N]s name next to his own last Christmas to "officially" mark her as apart of the family.

He recalled the moment vividly. How she questioned his actions, wondering if he'll still love her the same 'down the road', not to regret this decision. "Nah, you're right. I won't love you the same. I'll love you more." He'd said. "But the real question is; will you love me, or are you just going to break my heart?" To be honest. He truly hadn't expected the latter.

He was drawn from his thoughts by the approaching sound of footsteps. Turning his head he rolled his eyes upon realising it was her. "Not now." He growled. "Yes now." She shot back at him standing firm in place.

She'd planned a whole monologue on the walk to him but now that she was here, eyes meeting his, she hadn't a damn clue what to say.

"Until I was 25, I thought the only response to 'I love you' was 'oh, crap!'" She blurted out. Fred looked at her quizzically as the words settled in the air. [Y/N]'s eyes shut for a moment, kicking herself. That wasn't how she intended for the conversation to go. "I'm-I can't say the words" she began again to which Fred scoffed. "Yeah. I gathered that much." "Fred, just shut the fuck up, and listen to me!" Her stare shot daggers into the boy and he found his attention unwavering from her words.

"I didn't have a normal upbringing. I didn't get what you have. I came from a family where love was a weapon. A tool for manipulation. Something that was withheld until you were useful. Something used to excuse shitty behaviour. I didn't get the warm Christmases and intimacy you got. Before you I wasn't sure I knew what love was. My whole life had been cold. Then when you showed up at my door that day it was like hot blood began pumping through my body for the first time. You felt like life when my whole existence has been death. That's when I knew I couldn't live without you. When I knew that I...I can't say it. The words. But not just to you, I can't say them to anyone. It feels unnatural like there's a rope tied around my throat and it suffocates me. And it kills me a little bit. To look into your eyes and know that I - that I still can't - may never ... fuck. I-" [Y/N]s hand came to cover her eyes as tears fell and heartbroken sobs escaped her body.

Fred reacted on instinct, by her side in a second, pulling her into his chest. A hand gripped her back as the other fisted into her hair. "I'm sorry" she cried as he soothed her.

Fred was fighting sobs of his own, feeling as her body shudder against his and she clung to him for support. Because if she didn't her knees would buckle and she'd fall.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. I-I had no idea this was...look at me." He held her shoulders taking half a step back to look at her. "I don't care if you never say the words." "But then why-" "I listened to the opinions of four prats who had no business sticking their noses in our relationship." [Y/N] chuckled sadly, wiping tears from her cheeks. "Before they said anything I honestly hadn't noticed because I knew, I know you love me. You don't have to tell me because you show me. It's in your kiss. In your eyes. Your laugh. Your nostrils as they flare when you yell at me after successfully pissing you off. Never be sorry. I shouldn't have gotten so worked up over nothing. Okay?" [Y/N] nodded in response, unable to form a sentence. Smiling sweetly his hand came to caress below her jaw."I love you." "Now you're just rubbing it in." Fred laughed, leaning down and pressing a kiss to her lips.

He's pulling away before [Y/N]s pulling him back by the collar of his shirt for a deep and passionate one. Soon breaking in dire need for air.

Her chest is heaving as she catches her breath. His eyes fall shut, pressing his head against hers gently. [Y/N]s eyes are searching his face. Why can't she just tell him? The words, those three stupid little words, are right there tearing at her throat. Wanting to be said. This is real. He is not her parents, not her toxic 'family'. He's Fred. Sweet, caring Fred. Her one and only. He's different.

She swallows hard, mouth going dry, as that familiar tightening takes hold. Trying desperately to rid herself of that strangling sensation that plagues her a trillion times a day. She's staring at him, panic coursing through her bloodstream. Her eyes clench shut as she tries to muster as much strength as she can. "I-" the words are right there. Her voice barely a whisper as she fights that rope. "I love you." [Y/N] gasps for air as a knot in the rope snaps. Eyes widening as her chest shudders before she's smiling. Fresh tears falling in relief and joy.

Fred's eyes spring open, gawking. Did she just...is he-did he imagine that? No. There's no way. "You...you-" "I love you." Her voice louder this time, more assured as a second knot snaps. He doesn't know how to react. Body and mind still processing.

Soon though he's grinning like a madman, spinning her in his arms, feeling happier than he thought possible. Placing her back on the ground both hands cup her face as his lips crash into hers.

They stay like that for a while, in one anothers arms. [Y/N]s kissing him tenderly as she pulls back to whisper the words once more, "I love you." He smiles cockily down at her before his expression shifts to one of mock surprise. "Oh, crap!" he laughs as [Y/N] rolls her eyes. "Ah, Humour based on my pain. Aha-ha-ha. You're such a bastard." She turns to walk off but he grabs her arm. Spinning her back against his chest as his other hand comes to the nape of her neck.

"Not so fast, Princess." He licks his lips smirking, voice low "say it again." She bites her lip suppressing a wide smile. "I love you." He places one final kiss before a wicked grin spreads over his face and he's quickly throwing her over his shoulder.

"Come on, love!" He starts running for the Burrow. "FRED!" [Y/N] squeals. "No time to waste! I told them I'd have to saying it before we leave." "You...oh my god, FRED! Did you place a bet on me!? You absolute GIT!"

"Love you too, sweetheart."

[edengarden]

BNHA CONCERT BAND AU BC IM A NERD

IF YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS OR REQUESTS OR HEADCANONS AKSJHD PLS ASK ME I LOVE BAND I LOVE MUSIC AND I LOVE THIS-

Izuku Midoriya:

Boy definitely plays a wind instrument. I’m assigning him clarinet

Wants to be first chair so bad, he practices so freaking much I swear

ALWAYS. IN. A. BAND. ROOM. with Iida and Uraraka. They’re always practicing

He’s so confused with music theory, please help him. He just,, WHY is it minor?? WHY IS THERE A SOLO WITH NOTHING WRITTEN?? WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE HAS TO IMPROVISE WITH THE CHORDS WRITTEN OVER THE BARS-

Ochako Uraraka:

ALTO SAXOPHONE-

She’s also comfortable enough to play 2nd or 3rd clarinet if needed, or even soprano saxophone

Doesn’t have her own instrument, she borrows from the school and she HATES the reeds, they’re crap. When someone gives her a good reed, she CHERISHES it.

In jazz band also! With the same instrument, but she doesn’t feel ready for solos so she’s usually 2nd or 3rd. Bro when she has to switch from swing to straight she ALWAYS forgets and it’s the band’s downfall.

Tenya Iida:

TRUMPET TRUMPET TRUMPET TRU-

And he’s one of THOSE trumpet players, by the way.

“Sir the French horns aren’t tuned” yeah, he has perfect pitch

Literally plays flight of the bumblebee as warm up. Or has his own warm up scales. Never practices right before practice though, he thinks it’s “too late” for that

Has his own trumpet, it’s silver with hints of gold/brass. Takes care of it RELIGIOUSLY.

He HATES having to blow out spit onto the floor, but dude what other choice do you have??

Momo Yaoyorozu:

Sweet angel 🥺🥺 she’s an oboe player

Definitely bought her own instrument

Sight reading MASTER. she instantly gets the key bro, it’s so rare that she forgets an incidental

Definitely leads sectionals all the time. And she does it WELL.

When people (*COUGH* BASSES*cough*) slowdown, she’ll sway to the beat in hopes that they’ll follow her

Kyoka Jirou:

Electric bass or contrabass, give her either and she’s good to go dude.

Also has perfect pitch and knows her music theory WAY more than a high school student should know. She’s a genius.

Her warm ups? Jam sessions with Hanta and Todoroki. She just shouts a key and they go. It’s usually jazz, she plays a pretty constant pattern, Todoroki tries to improvise but hanta takes over pretty quick-

Definitely in jazz band as well. Also in a school competition band (like singer and stuff), also a one-woman-band. She’s in so many bands dude.

Shouto Todoroki:

TENOR SAXOPHONE

Also has a background in flute bc his parents wanted him to have ~versatility~

Knows all the theory in his head, like he knows what’s going on, he just doesn’t know how to explain it

*false note* “sorry my instrument isn’t warmed up, it’s probably my reed”

Has plastic reeds. And reeds ESPECIALLY for jazz.

Oh yeah he’s in jazz band! Loves that he’s like, the only tenor saxophone so he gets all the solos

Rikidou Satou:

TUBA PLAYER IN DA HOUUUSSEEE

Buddy actually brings the tuba home to practice, he drags that thing AROUND.

Always. Slows. Down. But no one knows it’s his fault most of the time, they blame Sero-

Firmly believes in the “basses are the foundation of the orchestra” mindset, he’s so proud to be a bass

Kouji Kouda:

Soprano Saxophone, but can also handle clarinet if the need comes (he just loves the sound of soprano sax you guys)

DEFINITELY in jazz band, but as a Tenor Sax 2 bc he knows if he went as a soprano sax he probably would’ve gotten solos

Is it Momo’s oboe?? Is it Kouda’s soprano sax?? No one knows the different except those two and Jirou

Plays Shostakovich’s jazz suite no. 2 as a warm up

DEFINITELY A SWAYER. He just gets into the mood of the music and SWAYS.

Tooru Hagakure:

Flautist!! She chose it as an 11 y/o bc it was a girly instrument but she really likes it lol

A mediocre player, she spends most of warm up with Mina tho, she thinks that she’ll get to warm up when she’s playing bc I mean— no one hears the flutes

Wanted to main the picolo for the sole purpose that it’s an Ear Destroyer. Aizawa heard the mischief in her voice and said no.

Sight reading?? What’s that?? She has no idea what’s going on, she just pretends to play and when she’s comfortable with the melody, she’ll just step in. NEVER notices key changes and signatures.

Yuuga Aoyama:

LASKHDSJ FLAUTIST!! Also clarinetist. He loves being able to stay where he is during practice even though he changes instruments it’s sort of funny

His cheeks get SO SORE when he plays clarinet though and he WILL complain.

“My flute is so heavy!” Kind of guy.

Definitely has his own instruments and takes GREAT care of them.

Wetting his reed with his saliva?? No, he plops it in a glass of water instead (the reeds are definitely his own, and expensive)

Tsuyu Asui:

Trombone gang bro.

Positions are burnt into her brain dude she’ll never go out of tune.

SO SMOOTH. SOOOO SMOOO- dude she plays so well?? It’s never spitty, but during jazz (yes she’s in jazz), if it’s a moody piece she KNOWS how to make it juuussssttt airy enough to be beautiful

Not that good with fast songs, but she makes up for her amazing ass vibrato and her range. GOD-LIKE RANGE.

Mashirao Ojirou:

FRENCH HORN!!!

Omg he plays like a king. And he’s so proud of being the ONLY one playing French horn, but there is PRESSURE, because a French horn is rlly tricky to tune dude. Have you SEEN it??

Always keeps his mouthpiece with him, as if he’s afraid someone will play his instrument?? Like no dude it’s good in it’s case but you do you I guess

He doesn’t stand out that much, but in the majestic pieces where he has a 5 measure solo?? He gives it his all and he pulls it OFF. Those moments are always the highlight of the piece

Mezou Shouji:

Bass clarinet!!

Once he managed to growl through bass clarinet and literally ALL the saxophone players were jealous AS FUCK

Buddy goes to a low E♭ like it’s nothing?? And then he goes up to like a high high C and you’re sitting there like THE FUCKING RANGE-

His warmups are like, quick scales and arpeggios. Bro he’s so steady when he plays and he could play for HOURS. Sore cheeks?? Don’t know her.

He so proud of being a bass clarinetist, but when he saw an octobass clarinet?? Aizawa better order one of those for him RIGHT. NOW.

Fumikage Tokoyami:

Baritone saxophone. Also lowkey really wants to learn bassoon because it’s such an old instrument

SKSKS he and Shouji sit next to each other, Tokoyami loves to read off of Shouji’s partition and create the WORST fourths you’ll ever hear. Even Midoriya told them to shut the fuck up once

In jazz band too!! Still plays bari sax

Such,, a good,, sound. So,, meaty,, and full,, and HOT. Bari sax is HOT!!

Plays moanin’s intro as a warm up. Search up the song. It’s bomb.

He loves to figure out new sounds with his bari sax. The Too Many Zooz type of sounds

Hitoshi Shinsou:

PERCUSSIONIST. Especially loves the bells, timpani, vibraphone and marimba.

He’s in the back judging EVERYONE. It’s so great for him, he gets to stand there and cringe and no one will know

Totally able to play 4 mallets like the king he is

Surprisingly enough, he’s rlly good in music theory. Like he could probably compose or transpose something no problem

Aizawa’s favourite, of course. Will ask him to sit in front while they play and circle the parts where he thinks something sounds off

Now that we’ve talked about the NORMAL band kids, I present to you,,, the gremlin band kids

Mina Ashido:

Percussionist as well!! She loves snares but you’ll see her pick up castagnettes even if y’all are playing something like Gymnopédie no. 3 she’s a bit confused but she got the spirit.

CANNOT READ SHEET MUSIC. Like notes?? No. She can do beats, just not notes. Let Shinsou figure out the ancient languages dude

Her and Hagakure don’t warm up, they just gossip together.

Did this to Bakugou more than once

SHE DROPPED SO MUCH EQUIPMENT LIKE HOW DID SHE NOT BREAK ANYTHING YET??

Denki Kaminari:

TRUMPET.

Buddy AIMS to have his spit land on someone sitting in front of him (rip Todoroki and Uraraka)

Thinks he’s cool because he plays trumpet, but he always loses count. God forbid Iida cant show up to practice because Kaminari will die

“Where are we? What are we doing? Which piece are we doing? Where are we starting?” Oh my god he’s so lost can SOMEONE please help him

Always gets in trouble during band camps dude. He and Sero are the Bad Brass duo

Eijirou Kirishima:

EUPHONIUM BABEY!! He thinks it’s so cool and he’ll get so insulted if someone calls it a “mini tuba”

DONT GIVE HIM SHEET MUSIC IN BASS CLEF HE HATES IT PLS JUST TREBLE CLEF

So!! Protective of his euphonium. His name is Johnny, by the way. He named his instrument.

When they finish practicing a piece, he’s the first to give feedback. Usually it’s good, like praises for classmates he heard and thought were really good!!

He’s so sweet. Willing to help others during practice and sectionals too!! It’s so sad that he’s literally on the other side of the room bc KAMINARI NEEDS HIS HELP-

Katsuki Bakugou:

Hehehe he’s a flautist. I’ve stood by this headcanon for like two years.

And he wants to be THE BEST. You never knew growling could be done through a flute until you met Bakugou.

CANNOT STAND slow pieces. He wants to go all out all the time, he always speeds up when the tempo’s slow.

Also in jazz band with what? Flute. Yeah, this is George Benson Time.

Will hit you with his flute if you ever think badly of him for playing flute. He’ll defend flute ‘till he dies.

Hanta Sero:

TROMBONIST!!! TROMBONE BABEY.

Will be so happy if he’s in charge of bass trombone?? Like yay??

Always wants to hit Bakugou’s head while playing.

Bro his playing style?? You know the like, lazy-ish trombone playing? But it’s just so full and smooth and heavy anyways? That type of shit.

In jazz band, he’s actually a natural at jazz, doesn’t practice that much so he’s like not even in a good position, buddy just slouches and sight reads.

I love Hanta sm guys I could talk abt trombonist!Hanta forever

[lifeisdabubbles-undersalmondean]

La Pomme ~ Chapter 14

Pairing: Sam x OC (eventual Dean x OC and Dean x Castiel. And I mean eventual.)

Series summary: George is a casual French-Mistake-universe Supernatural fan living in no-COVID 2020, who's life is upended when she's suddenly launched between realities, two years into the boys' past (S13E22). What begins as an insane, immersive fan experience turns into more when Jack goes missing and George offers up her AU information to help track him down. Soon it's discovered that she and Sam may actually have history. But that's impossible, right?

Word Count: 5,800

Warnings: {smut, fluff, angst, show level violence, swearing, mentions of suicide} ***Detailed warnings will be tagged for specific chapters.

A/N: Following the events of my prequel Paradise and second story From My Eyes Off. Reading those first gives context but isn’t necessary to start this one.

As annoyed as she'd been about Cas leaving against her better judgement, it felt good to be back on the road again. What she'd done yesterday, running away and searching for her family, had felt simultaneously necessary and awful the entire time she was doing it; like her nerves were sliding up against a cheese grater the wrong way. Worse than her standard feelings of unease. Being back in the car with Sam and Dean, finally headed once again toward Jack on their rescue mission, gave her a sense of peace and a strange kind of pain relief from the prior day's grating.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now a threesome, Sam, Dean, and George had set sail again on their mission to find Jack. Everyone in the car--including George, surprisingly--seemed comfortable with Dean's music filling the silence for the first few hours.

That being said, at the moment there was a throng of angry butterflies swooping through her abdomen. Cas and Sam had said they trusted her, by which she was flattered, but she felt immeasurably guilty. Should they trust her? Sure, she knew she was leading them the right way to find Jack, but was she supposed to be leading them at all? For all she knew, she had disrupted their destined timeline and was causing all kinds of unknowable consequences that would come back to bite them all in the ass eventually. She was starting to wonder whether her intentions were purely altruistic or if she was really just being selfish.

They had a short way left to go when they stopped for a quick, light gas station lunch and Dean decided to get some shut eye. He denied it, but Sam was almost positive he needed to sleep off all the crap he'd been consuming. When they got back in the car, Dean laid down in the back, Sam drove, and George sat in the passenger's seat.

It was her first time in the passenger's seat of Baby and she was strangely giddy about it. Her eyes roamed over every inch of the infamous car, taking in the surreal experience. Sam's arm adjusting on the steering wheel caught her attention and her head snapped sideways to look at him. A memory of a dream she'd had years ago filled her sight and the Sam sitting next to her was 10 years younger, with shorter hair and a baby face, but he had the same expression on it. It was a strange kind of worried uncertainty, like he was trying to figure out a riddle he already knew the answer to.

The vision felt so real and before she could stop herself she blurted, "Sam?"

He turned to look at her quickly and in a blink he was back to the older, bearded version she was used to. She could tell she had startled him out of his thoughts. Quickly she covered, "Uh, can I ask you something?" He nodded with a quiet noise of permission and she asked, "What you and Cas said earlier… about 'trusting' me? Uh… were you serious about that?"

"Yeah?" He wondered why she seemed so stupefied.

"Well," George had to take a moment to figure out how to articulately ask her question, "Why? I mean what makes you believe you should?" The look on Sam's face made her chuckle, letting out a nervous breath she'd been holding; she quickly clarified, "Don't get me wrong, you definitely should trust me and I'm honored, truly. But, I'm a mysterious woman who showed up in the bunker one day with no provable explanation and now is claiming to have inside information about the location of your missing adult-son-angel-human? I should be a walking red flag to a Winchester. Like, at least as a safety precaution, you shouldn't trust me until you know me, right?"

"I know you--er, enough," Came falling out before he could stop himself. Quickly he stumbled to add, "I mean, I feel like I know you enough to know you aren't lying to me…? Anymore, I mean," He added upon remembering she'd lied about her origins when they first met. He didn't think that counted, exactly; he would have done the same thing in her situation.

"But… why? What makes you feel that way?" George pressed. She still didn't understand. What made him so quick to trust her?

Sam was quiet for a while, turning a pale shade of green, before answering, "Same reason I was able to find you at the hotel, I guess?" He glanced at her with a serious expression and could tell by her gulp that she knew exactly what he was talking about. The pull; she felt it too. He exhaled deeply and reminded her, "Good instincts?"

Staring at him curiously, she imitated him, "Yea… that must be it."

The air around them felt strangely electrified as they both sat in silence. They were each fighting their own internal struggles about what it all meant. She wanted to ask him what he meant, ask him what this feeling was and if he was feeling the same thing. He wanted to know what she knew about his dream. As Dean let out a sharp snore, they both debated whether it was the right time or place.

"Do you trust me?" He asked her suddenly and it surprised her.

"Uhhhh, yea? I mean…" She paused, seriously considering it for the first time, then nodded definitively, "Yes."

"Why?" He pressed with a smile.

Understanding his point, she rolled her eyes, "That's--"

Cutting her off, Sam admitted with a smile, "OK, maybe it's a little different, but… you trust me because I remind you of someone who you know to be trustworthy, right?" She nodded slowly and he shrugged, "It's kind of the same thing for me."

George's eyebrows furrowed at him, starting to get concerned that she already did understand what he meant. Still, she asked, "Oh-kay, but... the person you remind me of is Sam Winchester… and you just so happen to be Sam Winchester, soooo-"

"OK, I don't know exactly how to explain it without sounding crazy, but I feel a connection to you," He finally admitted. Each word scratched and clawed resistantly on their way out of his mouth while he squirmed in his seat.

"A connection? To me?" She was surprised. And not. He affirmed with a quick nod and she began to fidget nervously. What did he mean? Did she already know? Is it what she's been feeling, too? He couldn't possibly feel the same connection she felt, surely; what she felt was easily explainable by her having been a fan of the show. But then what 'connection' was he talking about?

Trying to gather her thoughts she blurted, "Why?"

Sam gripped the steering wheel tightly and admitted, "OK, uh, about ten years ago I had this... dream." His eyes were glued to the road, so he didn't notice George suddenly stiffen tightly, whipping around to look at him. She instantly remembered her memory flash from earlier and a strange tingling sensation in her gut told her she knew exactly what dream Sam was referring to. She knew this feeling had nothing to do with the show.

Of course she'd had lots of dreams about him, and countless other fictional or otherwise unobtainable people before, but the dream that sprang to mind had been… different. It had saved her life.

"A dream?" she croaked, sweat forming on her cool skin. Was it her or was it suddenly sweltering in the car? She was desperate to take off her hoodie, but felt like this was the wrong time to be stripping.

"It was right after Dean had died--and, at the time, I thought he was gone for good. I was trying to fix it but it was taking a long time. Things got pretty dark. And then one night I…" He hesitated for a moment and then said quickly, "I had a dream. In it I met a woman in a bar and she… well, she was trustworthy. She helped me... find the light again," He finished vaguely with a wistful, if slightly embarrassed smile.

George felt as though the world around her were still moving but everything about her was in suspended animation; her body, her thoughts, her functions, like someone hit pause on her.

The night she'd had The Dream™, she'd been left at the altar by her would-be-high school sweetheart, who ran off with her best friend, the maid of honor. The heartache had felt unbearable and she happened to have had access to some serious pain pills. In her grief, she assumed they, coupled with a few bottles of tequila, would be enough to end her pain. But instead she'd had an indescribably intense dream about a man who made her feel ridiculous about throwing her life away over a dipwad like Greg. And--purely coincidentally, she'd always assumed--the man from her dream had been Sam Winchester.

While her dream had been incredibly significant to her, it's not something she'd even thought about until this moment. Why would she? It was just her pill and booze induced dream haze, randomly manifesting a hot, loving, perfect person to help her see that life was worth living. Of course, she had always known it wasn't real, that she hadn't actually dreamt about the real Sam Winchester.

Obviously, that's ridiculous! Because, he's not re- She paused her thoughts when the man in question's anxious throat clearing snapped her back to the moment. Blinking finally, she looked at him closely and noticed that he was avoiding looking at her. He was white as a sheet and his jaw was clenched so tight, she felt sympathy pain in her teeth. A burning sensation in her lungs reminded her that she couldn't remember when she'd last breathed in.

With a quick, deliberate inhale she asked, "And I... remind you of this woman?"

The serious tone of her voice made Sam finally turn to look at her. Her expression told him his instincts were right but he couldn't believe it. The two of them stared at each other in shock for longer than was safe to be driving. Neither knew what to say.

The car swerved slightly when Sam was startled by a loud, screeching 80s guitar solo suddenly emanating from the backseat.

"Jesus!" George yelped, jumping out of her skin.

Dean rolled over and sat up with a grumble, "Close. Jimi Hendrix." He held his noisy phone up and dismissed the alarm, "Did I miss any stimulating conversation?" Sam and George both looked at each other out of the corner of their eyes before simultaneously mumbling vague denials. Dean was attune to their odd behavior but when he noticed a road sign for The Trees of Enigma, he opted to ask instead, "Where are we?"

"Oh, uh--'bout 20 miles from False Klamath. What's the plan?" Sam instantly switched to work mode when he realized they were getting close.

Dean raised an annoyed eyebrow, "Are we already that close? Didn't we talk about stopping at the last town for a motel first?"

"Er--uh, oh--right," Sam groaned and his eyes rolled back into his head in embarrassment. He was furious with himself; Dean had mentioned that plan at their last stop but Sam hadn't exactly been giving his brother his full attention.

"What?" George asked curiously. "When was this conversation?"

"At the gas station," Dean said matter of factly, watching as she narrowed her eyes at him. "It was just before we left. I wasn't hiding it from you; I mentioned it when you were walking back to the car. Remember, you got distracted trying to fish out that M&M that went down your top," He chuckled in amusement, looking to share the joke with Sam but finding him looking oddly guilty instead.

"Oh, yeah," She responded slowly. Looking down and pulling her top away from her chest, she muttered, "Did I ever get that out?" Dean snorted and then watched Sam glance over as she hooked a finger down her top to go fishing again, realizing why his brother had missed the motel plan in the first place.

"George, it's not--it's not like that--" Dean began but stopped short, not knowing what to say to comfort her.

When George's head suddenly popped up again, Sam jumped, his head jerking toward the road and Dean stifled a laugh.

Looking back at him, she asked, "Ok, but why would we stop at a motel when we're this close? It's the middle of the day, the place is still open." Looking back and forth between them, she saw their expressions slowly turn guilty and she realized. With a mildly offended huff, she stated matter of factly, "Oh, you were going to leave me at the motel while the two of you went to go look for Jack alone. Got it." Crossing her arms over her chest, she turned to look out the window. Dean and Sam shared a guilty, 'oh, shit' expression.

"It's just that..." Sam tried to pick up where his brother left off, wanting to explain, but he froze too. He couldn't stop kicking himself for being distracted by her--er, their conversation. He should have been paying closer attention and now they faced nothing but bad options. Options that put her life in more danger. "...Well, it's just-"

"Oh, calm down," She cut him off softly with a small eye roll, looking back at them. She sneered like a spoiled teenager, "It's fine; I'm fragile and weak and have no monster fighting skills to speak of. I'm a baby sans trench coat. It would be too dangerous and irresponsible to let me come with you, so you had a plan. I get it. Liking it is another story, but I get it. At least now I know how Jack feels," She lobbed, giving Sam an annoyed smirk, to which his head hung slightly. With a deep calming breath, she explained in a more poised tone, "I'm not upset, I'm just frustrated that there's nothing I can do about it; I know how fucking pig headed the two of you are when you're right."

"Even worse when we're wrong," Dean added empathetically after a beat and Sam nodded apologetically.

George snorted in agreement and sighed, "Alright, well your offensively infantilizing, yet totally justified plan to forcefully protect me has failed, so now what?"

Dean rubbed his eyes, letting out some thoughtful grumbles and trying to clear the sleep fog from his brain, "Uhm, well we just gotta keep driving to the next town, find a safe place for you there and then double back; start looking for Jack."

As Dean spoke, George allowed herself to focus on her instincts and there was suddenly a fire alarm going off in her head. There was a sense of urgency she couldn't shake. Jack was in trouble.

Looking directly at Sam, George begged, "The nearest town is nearly 20 miles away! We have to find Jack, now. We're this close and I don't think we have time to waste. I've got a bad feeling," Either because they were getting closer to where she believed Jack to be or because she was finally paying attention to something other than Sam, she could sense how much danger the kid was in. But Dean was shaking his head dismissively, not listening beyond her request to stop. She tried offering sweetly, "We can at least stop since it's right here and you guys can take ten minutes to ask around and see if they've seen him? Do your little detective cosplay, strictly recon--I'm not sure if I'm using that term right but it sounds cool, so just go with it. I will stay in the car! Please!"

Dean looked like he was considering it but quickly shook his head, "George, I don't think that's a good idea; you'd be completely vulnerable and we can't be distracted worrying about you when we're trying to find Jack." He then squinted at her, offended. "And it's not cosplay. We're hunters, not LARPers."

"OK, I've seen you LARP and I know for a FACT you fucking love it, Mr. Braveheart!" Dean gave her a shocked glare, forgetting again that she knew more about their lives than a woman he'd met mere days ago normally would. She continued before he could respond, "And seriously, you guys I have a really bad feeling," She held her abdomen for emphasis, "Jack's in trouble! Please, I'll stay in the car with all the doors locked and one of your big giant knives. I'll be OK! I stabbed you didn't I?!" George reminded Dean, though she knew she was grasping at straws now.

Dean's eyes narrowed, "OK, first of all, you sliced me a little an-"

"Enough! Dean's right, we're not risking your life, Georgia. It's too dangerous," Sam's tone was startlingly definitive and both she and Dean were a bit stunned. Now that he realized who she was--who she had to be--there was no fucking way Sam was putting her in anymore danger. He'd made enough lapses in judgment since she'd showed up, any number of which could have already gotten her killed. He was done taking risks with her life.

As they saw the 'coming up' sign for "The Trees of Enigma", he pushed his foot down, speeding up just enough to make his point.

"Sam, please listen to me! Jack is here and he's in danger! What about protecting him?!" Both Sam and Dean shared an uneasy look; she could see they were torn she just didn't know how to convince them. Desperately, she reasoned, "I will be fine in the car! I promise! I'm from the future, God damnit! Don't you think I would know if I'd died on an old episode of Supernatural?!"

"I can't take that chance," Sam replied sternly, gripping the steering wheel tightly. Dean and she shared a confused expression and George huffed.

When they spotted the giant Johnny Appleseed statue around the bend, her stomach dropped. She could tell by the look on Sam's face there was no use and she began to panic, pleading with him. He was resolute about continuing, but as they were coming up on the turn in for the parking lot, he suddenly felt the steering wheel pulling against him. The whole car started thumping hard on the left hand driver's side. It took them a second to realize they'd gotten a flat tire and Sam knew he had no choice but to pull off the mountain highway and into the tourist spot's parking lot.

As he safely maneuvered the car into a distant parking spot and shut Baby off, George couldn't help but thank her lucky stars.

"Motherfucker," Sam landed a punch on the steering wheel.

"Hey, hey, hey! Don't you take this out on her!" Dean shouted angrily. "A car is only as good as its driver."

"Oh, you know what?! Yo--" Sam began but he was cut off by George's impatience.

"It doesn't matter, stop fighting!" Her tone was authoritative. "We're here and we aren't going anywhere anytime soon. So, why don't you boys go be hunters while I put the spare on the car? I'll be preoccupied with the car, it'll give you a chance to gather some intel on Jack, and by the time you come out you'll be able to take me to a motel--Not like that, Dean." She cut him off when she saw a smart ass expression burst onto his face at her words.

"You can change a tire?" He asked skeptically instead.

"Yes, Dean, I can change a tire. Ya know, women can also vote and take birth control now, too!"

"No, I know women can, I'm asking: can you?"

She shoved him gently and opened her car door, ordering, "just get out and show me where the spare is!" When she exited, a grateful shiver ran through her at the piercingly crisp Oregon climate. She was thankful for the relief from her earlier panic sweating.

Sam and Dean both exchanged identical "I-don't-like-this" looks before getting out of the car after her and popping the trunk. Dean lifted the trunk and then grabbed the false bottom that held some of their weaponry, exposing the spare and equipment underneath.

"OK, here's the jack and the lug wrench," he handed her the two tools and then reached back in for the tire. "Lemme pull the spare out for you."

"Stop wasting time, I can pull a tire out of a trunk."

"No, really, it's probably going to take one person just to hold the weapons up." Sam gently nudged her out of the way and leaned in to grab the spare while Dean held up the armory. Sam set it down next to the flat and then shoved the jack into position underneath the car with ease.

"Hey, knock it off. I told you I can change a tire," She grabbed Sam's wrist and tugged him back from the car, gently shoving him and Dean toward the visitor center and gift shop. "Now go! Go find out what you can about Jack. The sooner you go, the sooner you'll be back." Sam and Dean exchanged nervous looks, hesitating. "I'll be fine. Go. Bring me back some salt-water taffy!" She joked, trying to distract them.

"Wait," Dean walked back over and flipped back down the weapons shelf in the trunk and pulled a 17" bowing knife from some hidden pocket. Holding it out to her hilt first, he said, "The biggest knife we have. Don't hurt yourself."

"Jesus," She gulped. "OK. That's… big." She took it from his outstretched hand, nodding apprehensively, trying to psych herself up should she need to use it.

"I get that a lot." As Dean winked, George let out a small laugh and brandished the sheathed knife at him, faux menacingly.

Sam took a step towards her and pointed his hands at her in prayer position, "Hey, the second you get the spare on, you get in that car, lock all the doors, and watch for us, OK? Don't leave the car for any reason. Promise?" Now he was pleading with her.

"What if I have to pee?" She joked half-heartedly, starting to feel nervous and selfishly not wanting him to go.

"You could always try using that empty Pepsi bottle you had your eye on the other day," Sam cracked a small smile.

"Don't. Don't do that." Dean interjected in a serious tone. "Let's go, Sammy," Dean had to pull Sam away with a rough tug and the brothers headed for the gift shop while George checked that the jack was in place and began wrenching it up.

When she finally finished changing the tire about an hour later, she was sweating again and even more grateful for the nice, cool outside air. She lowered the car to the ground, then picked up the jack and lug wrench, placing them in the trunk. When she turned around to grab the flat, a beautiful woman with long dark brown hair was standing practically where George had just been standing herself.

"Jesus!" George startled upon seeing her, reeling backwards into the trunk a little.

"No, I'm Duma. Are you with the Winchesters?" She got right to the point. George suddenly felt all the hairs on her arms stand on end; this woman definitely seemed familiar, but was she a demon or an angel? Or something else? George couldn't remember. She noticed that Duma was standing between her and the knife, which she'd stupidly left on the ground on the other side of the discarded tire.

Shit.

"The who?" George played dumb, trying to figure out what to do. The boys would be back any minute right? Duma was starting to give her a funny look, like she was studying her.

"What…" Duma paused, squinting her eyes and looking her slowly up and down, "what are you?"

"Excuse me?" George replied, a little dumbstruck--not to mention offended--by the question. She slowly placed her hand casually on the lip of the open trunk. She tried to dart her eyes down imperceptibly to where her hand was, searching for any weapons she might be able to grab. Duma started to slowly step closer to her, seemingly not noticing George's fingers moving toward the 3" tactical blade strapped just within reach.

"What are you?" Duma reached for her and George whipped the knife out of its holster, slicing it at her and causing her to jump back.

The little tourist shop was surprisingly busy. As Officers Page and Plant waited patiently to speak with the manager they'd asked for going on 20 minutes ago, Dean watched Sam closely.

"Not in the mood," George said, swiping at her again and taking a confident step forward as Duma retreated. "Now back off." George didn't notice the nameless angel minion that had appeared behind her and never saw the cosmic knockout coming.

-----

Finally Sam noticed and raised a perturbed eyebrow, "What?"

Dean smiled knowingly and shook his head, "Nothing."

"Good, then keep your eyes to yourself," Sam sneered at him. He was reeling from his last conversation with George. Despite his earlier convincing, he was now nearly positive she was the woman from his dream and it wasn't anything he wanted to discuss with Dean. Though, he felt like his brother could see the scarlet letter on his chest and it was putting him on edge.

Just then an aged, grey haired black man appeared at the counter and waved them over. He was tall with a little more weight around the middle than the rest of him and just the slightest hint of wrinkles along the sides of his face, denoting that the wide, friendly smile he was giving them was a typical look for him.

Dean chuckled and muttered, "Ooh, smitten Sammy is salty," as they walked up to the counter and flashed their badges at the man. Sam narrowed his eyes, biting back his response to focus on the job at hand.

"Can I help you, Officers?" The wrinkle-faced man asked, eyes scanning the police badges curiously.

"We're looking for a missing person," Dean stated as Sam held up his phone with a picture of Jack for the man to see. "There's a chance he's in some real danger. Have you seen him?"

The man looked carefully at the photo and then shook his head apologetically, "No sir, I don't believe I have. But there's a separate shack for our walking tour tickets. Molly's been out there working the window all day. If he came through she'll know."

"Thank you, how do we--?" Sam asked quickly, putting his phone away.

"Just go back out the way you came, follow the wooden fence along to the left, and you'll see a path for the walking tour," The man pointed the way with a renewed, jovial smile and they thanked him.

Exiting out the door, the brothers followed the man's directions until they found the walking tour shack. Behind the plexiglass window was an older woman they could only describe as a redneck hippie. What they could see of her outfit was jean overalls and a cotton tie-dye shirt. She had the tanned leathery skin of a woman who spent her life either working in or enjoying the outdoors, her bleach blonde hair was hair sprayed to heaven, had dark black roots, and her teeth were a muddy shade of smoker yellow. On the tip of her nose sat a pair of small, round, purple tinted glasses attached to a beaded chain around her neck and her overalls were covered in an eccentric mishmash of flair that included the NRA and the Grateful Dead.

Dean gave a charming smile and began, "Officers Page and Plant. Molly, I presume?"

"Hello Gentlemen," She greeted happily with a wide, appreciative smile, removing her glasses from her nose and laying them against her chest. When they lifted up their badges she raised a brow, "Oh, 'Officers,' I see."

"Everyday of my life. How can I be of service?" She was sizing them both up carefully, appraising them.

"We're looking for someone," Dean repeated as Sam held the phone up for Molly to see. "Have it on good authority he might have gone through here. Any chance you've seen him?"

Molly reached up and grabbed her glasses again. Slipping them on quickly, she leaned closer to the glass and inspected the photo.

"Hard to say," She started, squinting her eyes a bit. "But there was a baby faced young man that came through with his sister a little bit ago. Could be the same guy, but my eyes just ain't what they used ta be."

"How long ago?" Dean asked seriously.

"Maybe an hour?"

"How did he seem?"

"Quiet and moody," Molly shrugged, "typical for your average young boy dragged here by their family. Didn't think much of it, honestly."

"What did his sister look like?"

"Shorter than him, but just as pale. Long brown hair, brown eyes I think? I'd say mid-twenties. She looked about as thrilled to be here as he did."

"Did they buy tickets?" Sam asked quickly.

"Sure did," Molly nodded. "Paid cash, asked for the fastest route to the wilderness trail." She picked up a map sitting in the display case in front of her, then grabbed a pen and drew out directions quickly, as though she'd done it a thousand times before. Handing the map through the small cutout in her window, she stated, "These are the directions I gave them."

"Thank you very much for your assistance, Molly," Sam said sincerely, grabbing the map and taking a few steps back, ready to head toward Jack.

"No problem, Officer," Molly said with a sweet smile, then turned to Dean and said, "Listen, I have a granddaughter you'd be perfect for." Dean raised an intrigued eyebrow, a charming smile appearing on his face as Molly reached up above the plexiglass and yanked a photo down from the shelf. Holding it out for Dean to see, she suggested, "Maybe the two of us can figure out a way to get her away from her no good, crank dealing boyfriend, eh?"

Initially interested, Dean moved closer to the photo and then wrenched back quickly, "Molly… Uh… how old is--"

"Sheila. She'll be 17 in October. Ain't she a beauty?" Molly grinned proudly. Dean and Sam both tried to hold back grimaces.

"Oh, of course, I understand," Molly nodded quickly and grabbed up a pen and another map, scribbling a note and handing it through the plexiglass. "Here's her SnapChat. She's always looking for new friends!"

"Well, she certainly takes after her grandmother, doesn't she?" Was all Dean could think to say. Luckily Molly was clearly flattered and he added quickly, "But, uh, we're on official police business right now, so I can't real--"

Dean, masking his horror like a pro, took the glossy, folded piece of evidence and nodded, "Thanks, Molly. You've been a real help."

"Anything for you, Officer!" She called after them as he took a few steps to catch up with Sam and the two of them began heading down the trail.

After tossing Dean's map in the first trash can they could find out of eye-shot of Molly, they followed Sam's map for about a mile along the trail before coming to a split. The two of them looked first left then right. The left path went straight around the mountain, the right path wound up the mountain in a zigzag pattern.

Sam checked the map again, "OK, she directed them this way," he pointed toward the left.

"Hold on," Dean said, having turned around. He was now facing about 90 degrees to the left of the left path. "You see this?" Sam turned to look and saw a line in the surrounding ground ivy that looked like a man made path. It clearly wasn't as used as the other two and it wasn't on the map.

"What about it? Molly sai-"

"Look," Dean instructed, pointing into the forest. As Sam scanned the area Dean was pointing at, Dean started slowly following the small, easily missable path. He followed him, still not seeing anything of interest, and they walked about 40 feet before Sam finally noticed a patch of dark green that looked decidedly unnatural against the normal foliage.

As they got closer it became clear that what they were seeing was a dark green nylon winter coat. The coat was attached to a body that was crumpled on its side, as though tossed into the vegetation in a hasty effort to hide it. Drawing their weapons, they approached carefully. Dean got there first, finding a small, fair skinned, brown haired woman.

"Jack's 'sister'?" Dean asked bending down to place two fingers on the young woman's neck, though she was very clearly dead.

"That's Tilly!" Sam said sharply, finally catching up.

"You mean, it was Tilly," Dean looked at him curiously.

Sam grimaced and explained, "Another refugee. She's been training with us. I thought she was on a Wraith hunt with Steiner and Green."

"So, what's she doing here?" Dean asked, standing up straight again.

"And why did Jack come with her? They hardly know each other." The two of them quickly swept the immediate area for any clues but found nothing more. Moving her body farther out of sight for the time being, they then continued cautiously forward along the path.

[alastairsqueen]

The Kissing Booth 2 Thoughts

It goes without saying there will be spoilers in this post.

Although the first movie certainly was cheesy, it still had its charms about it. The second one is all over the place and quite frankly a huge mess. 

I hate to say it but you can honestly tell Jacob Elordi and Joey King broke up because their chemistry in this movie is really off. The little montage when she visited in Boston was cute, but when they had more personal scenes together, I felt like they really had to force themselves to seem couple-y. Their chemistry fell flat in this one, which is such a shame because it was so good in the first movie, and I know I’ve seen plenty of shows/movies where couples who dated in real life broke up and it never translated to the screen. 

In fact, Noah was kind of pointless in this film period. Aside from their few moments together, he was just sort of there, so it made it difficult for us to really give two craps about Elle and him in the first place. Sure, you want to root for them because they’re the original couple from the first film, but it falls flat, especially when you take Marco into account. Marco and Elle had a lot of chemistry, and I almost think it’s a shame she chose Noah. I think the movie had a really big missed opportunity here, especially tying it into the whole college thing and her not being sure who she wants to be some day. If she chose Marco instead of Noah, it would have been a fairly grown up decision to realize Noah and her had grown apart, that sometimes life is filled with uncertainty and you need to take risks and go after what you want. 

Yes, Elle and Marco had chemistry, but by the end of the film, with the way it ended, Elle basically used Marco to win the dance competition. I don’t understand by the end of the film how Marco can still think she’s worth it when she’s standing there with the other guy and basically cut him off entirely after Noah saw them kissing. I get it, he has feelings for her, but clearly it’s one-sided. It reminds me of My Best Friend’s Wedding when she’s chasing after Michael, and George asks her, who’s chasing after you? The answer is no one. No one was chasing after Marco. 

I did actually kind of enjoy Lee a lot more in this film compared to the first one, even though he clearly still has his faults. He needs to communicate better with people - they all do, quite frankly - but he should be able to spend time with his girlfriend and his best friend separately and it not be an issue. At least this time around he forgave Elle quickly over the whole college thing, which I think shows his growth a bit. Of course, he also lied too, so that plays into it too, but not nearly as much. Like Elle said, now he knows how she felt the year before, and I think that’s where a lot of the change came in. 

As for Rachel, I do feel bad for her. Lee and Elle have a bond she will never understand because they have been best friends since birth. They share memories and good times, things she never will get to be a part of. They have all these inside jokes and rules, and you instantly see how she feels like a third wheel in her own relationship with Lee. However, I do think she could be a little more understanding too. I don’t get why she was so nasty to Elle after she blew up on her. I get that she thought Lee talked to her, but at that point, it was like she was okay with Lee ignoring his best friend because he was spending time with her. There needs to be a balance, something neither Lee nor Rachel clearly understands yet. And I genuinely started to feel bad because it was like Elle was being pushed more towards Marco. I also hated how they threw in that thing where Rachel supposedly overheard what Lee said to Elle at their birthday party. Yes, that was shit, but it only added drama that wasn’t necessary when their relationship was already rocky. They were a hot mess, and honestly, I’m not sure how they ended up back together at the end. But you can genuinely see how Lee grew to love and care for Rachel, clearly not feeling the way he did at the party. Every time Rachel was mad in this movie though, it seemed like she directed it more at Elle than Lee, which I find kind of ironic since she overheard those two at their party. Elle even said he shouldn’t have to choose, and Rachel hearing that should have taken it to heart.

Chloe........what the hell? The whole thing with Chloe was a hot mess. I don’t understand the point of it at all. Noah says he felt lonely and was struggling in Boston so she really helped him, and then Chloe claims she came with him to Thanksgiving because he wanted her to get to know him. He claims that he always thought what Elle had with Lee was weird until he met Chloe. I’m sorry, but having a best friend since childbirth and practically being twins is different than going away to college and becoming friends with some woman while you have a girlfriend back home. I don’t believe for a second Chloe just considers him a friend, because the way she greeted him at the restaurant in front of Elle was kind of inappropriate. That or it was intentional so we as the audience would think something was going on there, and either way, still inappropriate. The whole earring thing was dumb too, claiming she crashed at his place while he was away. To be honest, I thought for a brief moment they were going to imply Chloe was gay, especially after Elle noticed how her one classmate was attracted to the other guy. Like it was foreshadowing. I would have hated it because it would have been the most cliche thing on the planet, but also could have prevented things from escalating to the point they did and it being a huge misunderstanding. A huge misunderstanding that would have at least made more sense, imo?

The kissing booth in this movie was beyond pointless. Other than Lee and Rachel getting back together, it didn’t make much sense. I figured if Noah and Elle had their moment there, then sure, but it failed miserably. The gay couple was cute, especially at the kissing booth, but that whole thing felt like filler, or the movie’s attempt to meet some kind of quota. I’m all for representation, but so tired of movies/tv shows doing the bare minimum and thinking it makes them woke somehow. That’s honestly one of the reasons I thought Elle talking to the gay guy was going to be foreshadowing for Chloe and Noah’s friendship, that she was also gay. But instead, they were just sort of there.

To be honest, I actually thought Elle’s struggles were a lot more realistic in this movie. I kind of felt bad for her. The fact she’s constantly having to choose between her best friend and her boyfriend is ridiculous. Then there is the whole struggle with her relationship with Noah, figuring out which college to go to (which is where she kind of has to choose between Noah or her best friend) and then money for college and her connection to Marco. That’s why I feel like this movie was such a wasted opportunity. The problem is, aside from Noah, Elle really didn’t make any decisions in this film as they left it open-ended. I’m sure that will add more drama if they do a third film, and Marco will pop up again too. Either way, I’m tired of her having to pick between Lee and Noah. How about she does what she wants to do? 

Either way, I wasn’t really fond of this movie. To me, it wasn’t even cute like the first one. It was kind of sad and depressing a lot of times, and really all over the place. It felt like, at times, the actors didn’t want to be there either, especially Jacob Elordi.

[writer-dreams]

Love Potion (Prologue) (Draco Malfoy x Reader)

Hello everyone! I've been asked by some readers to move this one-shot from my ao3 book so here it is!

Prologue / Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / End

Prompt: The Weasley Twins dare Y/n to slip her worst enemy a love potion and to date him for a week.

House: You choose

Blood Status: You choose

Warnings: Possible swearing, a really cheesy and badly written poem

Note: The reader in this story is female/uses female pronouns.

Word Count: 1,443 words

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

3rd Person POV

“How did I end up here?” Y/n thought. How did she end up at a party in the Gryffindor common room and playing truth or dare? How did she end up sitting in a circle with her friends and spinning a bottle? Caught up in her thoughts, Y/n didn’t notice that the bottle landed on her. George and Fred instantly smirked deviously.

“Ooohhh Y/n~. Truth or dare?” The twins sang devilishly.

Crap. What do I do?! Y/n didn’t want to choose truth because she wasn’t a chicken, and because she learned truth can be just as detrimental as dare. The girl next to her proved that. The poor female was subjected to a series of embarrassing questions that left her red-faced and horrified. Fred and George definitely knew the right questions to ask. However, dare could be even worse because it was Fred and George! She shook her head, I’m probably gonna regret this.

“Dare.” She answered.

Everybody in the room started whistling and howling with excitement. Fred raised a hand and the room was immediately silenced.

“We dare you…” George started.

“To…” Fred continued.

“Slip Malfoy a love potion.” The two finished together.

Y/n’s mouth dropped open. “Excuse me? You want me to slip my enemy a love potion?!”

“Since you’re objecting, you need to date him for a week too while he’s under the potion’s effects.” George smirked.

Y/n scowled. “You prat.”

George simply grinned widely, “Well? Are you going to do it? If not, you’ll have to chicken.”

Y/n shivered. If you chickened, you have to run down the corridors of the school completely naked. No, she would much rather do this.

“Fine.” Y/n said through gritted teeth.

“Wonderful! Now, take this.” Fred handed her a pink bottle filled with the potion. It was made of glass and the topper of the bottle had a heart. “Made by yours truly. Just give Malfoy a little bit of this and it should work instantly. Have fun~.”

Y/n glared at the redhead who laughed and walked away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, Y/n snuck over to the Slytherin Table. She looked around and noticed Malfoy in a conversation with his friends, his drink was on the table and unsupervised. Y/n took this as an opportunity to use the potion. She opened the bottle and some smoke floated out of the container. It formed a pink heart before fading away. She then quickly grabbed Malfoy’s drink and poured the concoction into the pumpkin juice. She watched as the liquid turned a light pink color before reverting back to normal, as if nothing happened. Carefully, she placed the goblet back on the table and sat across from Malfoy, making sure that she would be the first one he sees once he drank the potion.

Malfoy immediately narrowed his eyes at her. “What are you doing here, L/n?” He spat.

“I’m here because I want to be here. Is that a problem?”

Malfoy didn’t answer. He looked at her suspiciously and took a sip of his pumpkin juice. Y/n waited anxiously, waiting for the potion to do its work. Suddenly, he put down the cup and leaned close to her.

“How are you feeling?” Y/n asked cautiously.

“I feel great. Better than ever….Y/n? Has anyone ever told you how beautiful your (e/c) eyes are?”

Y/n wanted to throw up. She glanced over at the Gryffindor table, where George and Fred were smirking and flashing her a thumbs up. Y/n threw back a vulgar gesture with her finger and turned back to Malfoy, who was staring at her dreamily.

“Uh..Mal-Draco? Are you alright?”

“Absolutely.” He answered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n was working on her essay in Potions when she heard the sound of flapping wings. Confused, she looked up, hoping to find the source of the distracting sound. She spotted a flying paper crane gracefully flapping towards her. Slowly, its’ delicate wings stopped and it glided onto her desk, landing perfectly in the middle of her essay. Y/n raised an eyebrow and hesitantly unfolded the bird. Inside was a poem, written in beautiful handwriting;

I wonder why we have to fight.

Why we have to scream insults at each other all throughout the night.

I wonder how I’ve never noticed your beautiful (e/c) eyes,

Or how your radiant smile gives me butterflies.

The life of a Malfoy is extremely lonely.

I think that could change if you became my one and only.

I suppose all I’m trying to say is ‘I love you’

I love your witty retorts,

I love your odd quirks like when you laugh, you snort.

I could write a whole essay about how I feel.

Though I believe that will not appeal.

If you return these feelings I hold for you,

(Y/n), could we start anew?

At the midnight hour,

Come meet me at the Astronomy Tower.

-D.M ♡

Y/n raised her eyebrow and gagged slightly. She seriously couldn’t believe that Malfoy wrote this to her. Granted, he was all lovey-dovey due to the love potion but that still didn’t make her want to vomit. She turned to look at Malfoy, who was staring at her lovingly from across the room. All Y/n wanted to do was say no and forget that this event was ever going to happen. That’s when she remembered that she had only completed half of her dare. George had dared her to give him the potion AND date him for at least a week or so. Y/n wasn’t about to just finish off the dare here. If she did, she would be named a chicken, and she loathed the idea of that. She looked into Malfoy’s infatuated eyes and nodded, sealing her fate and selling her soul to the devil that is Draco Malfoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That night, Y/n snuck out of her dorm room to go meet Malfoy at the Astronomy Tower. As she walked through the dark corridors of the school, she wondered if fake-dating him was really worth not being the laughingstock of the school. She shook off the thought and continued on, occasionally hiding from teachers that patrolled the halls.

When she finally arrived at the Astronomy Tower, she saw Malfoy leaning on the balcony, admiring the starry night sky. She crept up beside him and rested her arms on the railings of the balcony.

“I’m really happy you agreed to come here, Y/n.” He said quietly.

Y/n didn’t respond but she nodded slightly to signal that she was listening. Honestly, she just wanted this whole thing over with. It was weird seeing her enemy act like this. She was used to spitting insults at him and him doing the same. She would never have thought to see him like this, even under a potion’s influence.

“I wanted you to meet me here because…I really like you, Y/n. That poem was just a really cliché way to get your attention. I love your eyes, your hair, your sassy personality, and so much more. You make me feel so happy when you’re around. Something as simple as a smile from you sends my heart racing. I know this is really cheesy, but I love you. You’ve somehow captured my heart and I want to be with you for the rest of my life. Will you be my girlfriend?” Malfoy asked, hopefully.

Y/n knew this was going to happen. She hated it that she had no choice in the matter. How could she date her enemy? However, a dare was a dare. It was only for a week, right? How bad could it be? 7 short days of being in a fake relationship with him and then she could go back to hating him.

“Of course.” Y/n smiled at him, fighting the urge to puke.

Malfoy beamed widely and wrapped his arms around her. Y/n struggled with every inch of her being not to punch him, instead opting to return the hug. He tilted her face up and almost connected their lips if Y/n hadn’t put her finger between them. He backed up, confused.

“Not yet.” Y/n said quickly. The last thing she would ever do is kiss a git like him. Malfoy looked at her with saddened eyes and Y/n quickly realized that she needed to act like she really loved him. She pecked him on the cheeks lightly.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Draco.” She whispered, exiting the Astronomy Tower. She turned back one last time to see Malfoy holding his cheek with one hand, face as red as Ron’s hair. She stalked back down the halls, only thinking to herself;

This is going to be the worst week of my life. Screw you, Weasleys.

**********************************************

Thank you for reading the Prologue of Love Potion. I'm really sorry if that poem was horrible to read, I literally just made it up in my head and hoped to Merlin it sounded decent. Keep an eye out for part 1 and a possible part 2. Thank you again for reading. If you have any requests, feel free to ask! Until next time.

-Jade

[ddp456]

A Little Lumberjane Christmas - A Gravity Falls Christmas Story/Poem (Re-post)

Hey, all!  @ddp456​ here, and due to the season, I wanted to re-share one of my favorite creations to spread some holiday cheer.  I changed the format a bit, hopefully making it a bit more readable on Tumblr than the original versions here and here.  Again, happy holidays, and please enjoy!

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Written by @ddp456​ Illustrations by @codylabs​ Based on an idea by Wolf90

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It was Christmas Eve and time to deck the halls, in the podunk town called Gravity Falls. Weirdmageddon had pass, its horrors thankfully gone, bringing peace back to the sleepy state of Oregon.

Its natural weirdness seemed to had taken a pause, as the whole town awaited the arrival of ol' Santa Claus. Stockings were hung and trees were dressed really bright. From a distance, the whole town looked like a giant Christmas light.

Families were brought together, and friends would come and unite, proving enough Christmas cheer can make anything right. But one unfortunate soul didn't see things that way. She sat on a rooftop, watching nightfall rise up from the passing day. Who was this person, seemingly unaffected by Christmas joy? Why, it's the Lumberjack Princess, Wendy Corduroy!

Wendy hidden herself away at the top of the Mystery Shack, as the brutal winter winds blew away at her back. She didn't mind the cold, save for the tips of her boot-covered toes, and the feeling of frost nipping away at her stubby little nose. Wendy wanted a safe place to brood and mope and think, as she sipped from a thermos of hot cocoa, her favorite winter drink.

She had gotten out of her dad's apocalypse training by lying about work. She avoided Soos's Mystery Shack staff party by saying it wasn't her quirk. The rest of the town was swept away in the Christmas action, as McGucket threw a huge celebration in what was once the Northwest Mansion. Her friends Tambry, Lee, Nate, and Thompson begged her to come. Wendy refused. "No thanks. It sounds kinda dumb."

Even the Pines twins made their own attempt. An offered trip to Piedmont, California only added to Wendy's contempt. Wendy turned down their invitation, hoping Mabel and Dipper wouldn't shed a tear. "Sorry, guys. Maybe we'll see next year."

All Wendy wanted was to be left alone with her pain. Why did the world make it feel like she was insane? To her loved ones, she didn't want to seem like a grouch, but because of all the lies she told, Wendy couldn't even go back to her own couch.

Wendy's wandering mind instantly came to a halt, as she could hear crushed snow beneath a heavy foot fault. She sprang into action, her ninja-like moves were so slick. Wendy couldn't believe her eyes, "Holy crap! It's St. Nick!"

Santa Claus stood before Wendy in all his glory. The red outfit and fuzzy beard definitely matched the often-heard stories. Despite her older age, Wendy didn't doubt her own eyes. After all, this was Gravity Falls, where the weirdos loved to hide!

Wendy asked, "Santa, no offense, but what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be posing on soda cans with a cute polar bear? Don't you have, like, a zillion presents to give out today? I won't bother you. You can be on your way!"

Santa laughed. "You need not worry. My deeds with get their well due. But tonight, dearest Wendy, I've come to speak with you. It makes Santa sad to see you so blue. Your Christmas spirit I intend to renew. So, come join me this night. Give me a chance to help make things right. By Christmas Morn, I make this promise so true, your outlook on Christmas will gain a new view."

"Thanks for the invite, Santa." Wendy scoffed at the plan so bland. She sat back down in the snow, "But, yeah, a hard pass from me, my man."

With her back turned, Wendy was definitely out of range, to see "Jolly ol' St. Nick" undergo a sudden change. His famous smile faded into a frown turned amiss, as his opened, gloved hands turned into enraged fists.

"Young lady," Santa said without as much as raising his voice. "I'm afraid you don't understand. I'm not giving you a choice."

"WHA – "

Before she knew it, Wendy was tackled to the ground, She punched, scratched, and kicked, but in the end, was helplessly bound. Left in a hogtie, Wendy could only look around, the identity of her attackers made her let out a disgusted sound. "The gnomes from the woods?! This can't be right! Why are you bugging me on Christmas Eve night? And what's the deal with the elf uniforms? What's your beef? I thought you reformed?"

Jeff the gnome stepped up, since the other gnomes weren't very social. "Sorry, kid. It's just business. I swear this isn't personal. We gnomes need extra scratch for these long winter seasons, and the big man likes to outsource. Need there be a better reason?"

"HO HO HO! Well done, my boys!" Santa heaved with huge amounts of joy. "Please place Miss Corduroy in my big sack of toys! For a job well done, expect a little extra in your checks. Consider it a gracious extension of my respect."

The gnomes cheered as they started to drag Wendy away. Their redheaded captive did everything she could to stay. She pulled and tugged and screamed with all of her might, but the ropes holding her were simply way too tight.

"You can't do this to me!" Wendy yelled. "I have rights! What's the matter, Santa? Too scared to fight your own fights? You know against me, you'd have no such luck! For the last time, let me go, ya fat fu – MMPH!"

The angry ginger's potty mouth was hurting the simple gnomes' brains, so they decided to gag her with a candy cane. From her lips, Wendy couldn't get the sticky treat to waver. The only positive in all this was that it was mint-flavored.

They tossed Wendy into the oversized bag, usually filled with cheer. She let out a muffled cry, landing hard on her derriere. The sack's top was then tied off, robbing Wendy of all light, as Santa and prisoner sailed away well into the night.

Hours felt like seconds until the sack's top was undone. Wendy sprang up from the bag. This was her chance to run! Her ropes and candy cane gag had disappeared. The road in front of her had been perfectly cleared. Before Wendy could take one step, a sturdy hand clamped onto her shoulder. She turned to find Santa, about two seconds away from scolding her.

"Welcome, Wendy," he greeted, "to my humble abode. I wouldn't bother fleeing, for there's nowhere to go. We're at the North Pole, far away from civilization. This is my workshop. Call it my own private nation. Your cell phone won't work. All internet access is password-protected. My best advice is for you to do what you're directed. Now, join me, won't you? The next room is pretty fine. I really want you to see my toy assembly line."

Wendy sighed. There wasn't anything she could do. What if Santa's words were absolutely true? The best course of action was to play along with the part, and trick the geezer that she had a change of heart. The two walked down and across a large loading bay while Santa's nine reindeer happily ate their servings of hay.

Santa led Wendy to the toy assembly line, when the annoyed teen let out a whine. "I don't mean to be rude, but I'm telling you, I can't stay. Can't you just leave coal in my stocking, and send me on my way?"

"HO-HO-HO!" Santa chuckled. "Why, Wendy, you're such a kidder! You can't lie to Santa. I must insist you reconsider. I know alone in the dead of winter is what you'd prefer. But in this case, I really cannot concur. There are reasons to my seemingly harsh way. I promise you'll reflect fondly on it one day.

Wendy crossed her arms and stuck out her tongue. "I really doubt that, you kidnapping pile of cow dung!"

Santa beaded his eyes, as he tried to stay reserved. "Maybe it's time to get what you deserve. With that negative attitude of yours – and your bad behavior. Santa's got the way to curb that. How about some hard labor?!"

With a hard push, Wendy nearly crashed into the conveyor belt. She looked around to see the hand she'd been dealt. An army of elves stood neatly in line, they slaved and worked tirelessly to finish their projects in time. An endless supply of toys, games, and electronics flew by at frenzied rates, to order to reach children in every country, province, and state.

"Whoa!" Wendy noticed. "Those aren't the gnomes. These elves are real!" "Of course they are," Santa prided. "Back home, this job needs the real deal! Who else could deliver such gifts with speed and joy? They pull out all the stops so each child gets a toy. These wondrous folks are able to look past their own wants and needs, to bring Christmas cheer by doing good deeds. Such is the lesson I expect you to learn tonight. So, jump right in and help, and please don't put up a fight!"

Wendy stepped up to the belt, finding that she was way too tall. "Hey, how can I help? These tools were made for someone super small!"

"Hmm…" Santa stroked his beard. "By George, you're right! Why didn't I see it before?" The old man snapped his fingers. "There! Now, you can easily do your chore!"

With a blink of her eye, Wendy had shrunk by half. She was horrified to see that she barely reached Santa's calf. Her lumberjack outfit and thick winter coat, were now a dorky, striped one piece, and curled shoes that looked like boats. Dipper's pine-tree cap became a cute matching hat with bell tips. Her long copper hair turned pigtails made her lose her grip.

"AHH!" Wendy shrieked as she felt her now-pointed ears. "Change me back!" She demanded. "Don't think I can't kick your chunky rear!"

Santa used one hand to hold back the pint-sized, fist-swinging threat. "Oh, give it up, kid. Just look at me! I'm not even breaking a sweat! All this protesting is really getting you nowhere. Help the elves with the toys, and I'll think about changing you back. I swear. Only when your Christmas spirit is revived, will you be allowed to go home. I'll leave you be now. Santa's got better things to do than listen to you drone."

Santa took his leave, when he stopped after a few paces. "I hate to do this to you, but to be honest, I'm really too old for chases." He snapped his fingers once more, the room echoed with a click. Wendy looked down, "What's this? Another one of your tricks?"

A metal tether was placed around her ankle, meant to hold her in place. Wendy couldn't run away or jump. She could barely walk around or pace. "You think you got me, old man?" Wendy bragged. "I'll be outta here super-quick." She reached under her hat, "As soon as I find my lock – "

"Looking for these?"

Santa flashed a grin, displaying Wendy's trusty lockpicks in his hand. "That's right, kiddo. Santa knows all your secrets. That's why he's the man!" Wendy was left speechless as her captor soon disappeared from sight. She pulled on her chain with all her might. The freckled elf tugged and yanked and fought against the shackle, but every escape attempt resulted in a painful ankle tackle.

Now faced with no other choice, Wendy turned around to accept her fate. She grabbed a toy off the assembly line and followed alongside with her elven mates. But after a few minutes, Wendy found the task to be a bore. She elbowed the nearest working elf neighbor, "So, what are you in for?"

The tiny elf stared at Wendy in a confused state. "I don't think you understand. We elves choose our own fate. We each have free will. Santa doesn't force us to stay. All of us volunteer here. We don't even ask for any pay!"

Wendy looked around at the other elves workers walking around scot-free. She was the only one chained down to the heavy machinery.

"Then, I don't get it." Wendy asked. "Why do you do all this?" The elf replied, "Because the end result is truly pure bliss. Seeing the happy, smiling faces of the grateful girls and boys, it's what powers our great quest. It brings us great joy!"

Wendy grew more curious. "But how can you see all of these things? There's too many to see and they're so far away. Are you just pulling my strings?"

"Watch…"

Wendy grew silent as from the assembly wall came something new. From a small crack, some kind of electrical portal grew. The portal shifted from different planes into a whole new world. Before Wendy's emerald eyes, did the elf's story unfurled.

A little girl knelt on the side of her bed, praying to the powers that be to watch over her loved ones' heads.

"That's little Clara," introduced Wendy's new friend. "She volunteers to take care of her grandma, helping around the house to no end. Even though her family has little money for presents, she gives them little grief. For this, we're giving her a special dollie to provide her some well-needed relief."

A new item flew down the conveyor belt at rocket speeds. Dozens of elven hands rushed to give it the details it needs. A blonde, huggable doll was the final result. Its design was truly perfect. There wasn't anything possible to insult. It flew off the line and into Santa's bag in an almost magical way, and soon, into Clara's awaiting arms on Christmas Day.

"I have to admit," Wendy's mood began to lighten. "That was really neat." She no longer felt like fighting.

"Then, why don't you give it a shot," the elf did suggest. "You're part elf now. You can do it. Try your best!"

Wendy began to picture a child in need, someone who was indeed worthy of the elves' creed. She opened her eyes and gasped aloud, as Wendy was soon presented with her very own cloud. The other elves murmured and gathered around, to see what child Wendy's mind had found.

The image became clear, displaying a teenage boy in punk clothing. His hair was blue. His jeans were torn and holey. But man, was his attitude loathing. The teen was with his mother, doing some late holiday shopping. But to Wendy's shock, she could make out some swears dropping. "No, Mom, you moron! What were you thinking? Are you always this dumb, or have you been possibly drinking? I said I wanted Super Linguini Bros. 3, not Part 2! Man, I honestly can't believe I'm related to you!"

As the image in the portal faded away, Wendy's blood boiled, perhaps more than anytime that day. The boy's expected present had appeared before her, half-finished. But her budding Christmas spirit had been quickly diminished. She picked up the video game machine, and threw it over her shoulder. Wendy let out a chuckle as her insight became ever bolder. All of the elves were shocked and frozen in pause, as the now-wrecked toy landed at the feet of Santa Claus.

Wendy spun around in horror. She knew an apology would be way too late. This latest outburst would surely seal her fate.

Instead, he approached Wendy without a sign of anger and rage. Santa rubbed his bearded chin, knowing he had to take from another page. "Maybe I'm going about this the wrong way. We need to go inside to find why you despise Christmas Day."

He stepped up to Wendy, who was still stuck in place, and placed his black glove over her freckled face.

"What are you doing?" She tried to pull away. "Stop being a creep! Get your stinking hand off me! I can't see a peep!"

Santa removed his hand, and Wendy was now filled with a sense of dread. She had been warped to a dark room with a yellow light hanging ahead. "Hello?" Wendy called out, no longer shackled. "Is anyone there?" "Sorry!" A new voice answered. "I'm on my way. I had to finish my hair!"

A purple and pink glow invaded the darkened space. Wendy entered a fighting stance, just in case. The small ball became a pixie, straight out of a fable. "Weird." Wendy noted. "You kinda look like my friend, Mabel."

The brunette fairy gave off a familiar smile, "Hey, there! Welcome! I hope you stay awhile. Beyond this point, lie the doors three. They represent Christmas Past, Present, and Future. Yippee! Each door will take you to a different point in time on Christmas Day. By journey's end, we'll learn the real reason of why you feel this way."

Wendy shrugged, "It isn't like I have any choice." The pixie agreed and waved, "No, not really. Just follow my voice! If you need anything, I'll be your busy bee! All you need to do is shout, "Hey, Christmas Fairy!""

The fairy led Wendy to the door labelled, "Christmas Past." She opened the door, "Come on! This will be a blast!" Wendy was reluctant, but did what the sprite asked. The redhead couldn't believe it! She was now ten years in the past!

They stood in a better version of the Corduroy household, one that hadn't been yet damaged by Manly Dan's tantrums left uncontrolled. In the farthest corner of a somewhat messy kitchen, a super-tall, redheaded woman baked cookies as her pigtailed daughter pitched-in. The child was covered in white flour from head and toe, and her chubby, little fingers were caked in sticky dough. But the deed was finally done. Into the oven, the cookies went in. The mother tightly hugged her baby, looking over her proudly with a grin. "I'm so proud of you, my little one. You perfectly made my recipe: Chocolate-frosted Christmas trees with just a pinch of sesame. One day, you'll be able to do it alone. Maybe to impress some lucky boy, or when you have a family of your own, my dearest Wendy Corduroy."

The little girl held her mother even tighter, her hidden anxiety and social fears became a tad bit lighter.

"Mama…"

The Christmas Fairy watched the heartwarming scene with glee. "How adorable!" She turned around, finding something unexpectedly. Wendy had turned away from the memory, as she hugged her own shoulders. "Can we get out of here, please? This all is getting older and older."

The pixie sighed, as she waved the memory away. "Maybe we can find something even better here in present day." Wendy followed the fairy to the next Christmas door, "Are we almost done? I'm not gonna lie. This is becoming a chore."

The fairy reached the large door, marked with label, "Present," so that Wendy could bear witness to ongoing Christmas events. This time, she was presented with not one window, or two, but three! On her left side, Wendy could make out a familiar, half-broken Christmas tree. The Gift Shop of the Mystery Shack was decorated with green and red. A nearby buffet table held quite an awesome spread!

The new Mr. Mystery, Soos, stood at the counter with elbows resting. His saddened face was downright depressing. Melody, his girlfriend and partner at the Mystery Shack, suddenly snuck behind him and gave him a hug-attack. "Hey, why so glum, big guy?" she wondered. "Gee, Melody." Soos lamented. "This party was nothing but a blunder. Everybody went to that McGucket shindig instead. With the way things are going, maybe I should have stayed in bed. Even Wendy, who works here, couldn't even bother to attend, Let's face it, this idea was nothing but a dead end."

Melody lowered her head against Soos's shoulder fat, "Oh, don't be silly. Just you forget about that! They can have their stupid party. Let them be. We'll have our own little Christmas; just you and me! And don't mind Wendy. You know she doesn't mean to hurt you. Besides, with us alone, we can make our Christmas a bit more "blue.""

The couple's lips met as they shared a Christmas kiss, though Wendy turned her head and quickly dismissed. "Okay! Moving on!" She fled the scene with swift feet, though she secretly thought the moment was sorta sweet.

The middle window allowed Wendy to view the snow-covered woods, as four burly soldiers followed a path, their heads covered in hoods. Wendy easily recognized those running around in the dead of winter making noise, It was her father, Manly Dan, and her brothers, the Corduroy boys!

Marcus, Kevin, and Gus followed along with dear old Dad, "Keep going!" Dan barked. "Onwards, my beefy lads! Those monsters this summer were only the beginning! We'll practice and train day and night to make sure we keep winning!"

The youngest boy, Gus, started to complain, "How'd Wendy get out of this? She's totally to blame! She said she couldn't come because of work? Yeah, right! She's full of it! What a jerk!"

It was then when Manly Dan came to a stop. The boys crashed into his mighty form, and dropped. He stuck a finger in his smallest son's face. "You watch your tongue, boy! Don't be a disgrace!" That girl beat the odds and surprised us all, She helped saved this town from its ultimate downfall. Wendy's proven herself to me. My stone-cold heart she had won, I only wish she was here to show you boys how to get the job done! But my girl's not here, so us four will have to do. We'll work together on this blessed day to show the world that Corduroys rule!"

The boys rallied around their father's battle cry, and Wendy watched them march without batting an eye. "Don't think I'm not touched by Dad's words. I hate to betray his trust. I just wanted to get out of apocalypse training without a fuss. Living through Weirdmageddon was more than enough for me. After that mess, couldn't we relax and let things be?"

Wendy's attention was drawn by the window on the right. Every part of the Northwest Mansion was bathed in glorious light. Its new owner, Fiddleford McGucket, had really turned things around. To properly celebrate, he threw a Christmas party for the whole town! Mingles of classes, both rich and poor, engaged with each other without signs of bore. Gathered at a distant table were a collection of Wendy's chums, Thompson, Tambry, Nate, Lee, and even Robbie V., that gothic bum. They sat bored out of their minds, their attention spans were wearing thin, without their fearless leader to swoop in for the win. The plucky cashier's mischievous mind usually created their favorite dares, games, and pranks, and now without her around, the mellow atmosphere really did stank! Surprisingly enough, Thompson threw his fist down! "Why are we just sitting here? Sure, Wendy's not around, but would she want us to sit around and pout? No way! She'd tell us to get off our butts, no doubt! C'mon, guys. Let's make our Wendy proud! We'll cause a little mayhem and make this party loud! He lifted his half-drank cup of punch into the air, as the rest of the teens joined in with the cheer:

"For Wendy!"

Wendy backed away from the third open portal, "I'm not really sure if I get this moral. Sure, all three present views have people that miss me, but their Christmases seemed to be better if I left things be."

The pixie bobbed her head, "Oh, Wendy. Try looking at this way instead. All of these groups would be better if you were there, but in your absence, they refuse to let their Christmas fall into despair. They celebrate what they have, versus what they have not. Now, with that said, maybe is there something more to Christmas that you thought?"

"Perhaps…" Wendy said, stroking her chin with curiosity. "Great!" The fairy proclaimed. "There's one last thing to see!" However, Wendy's interests soon broke away, as the door called "Christmas Future" made her want to stay. "Hold on!" The sprite cried out. "There's nothing interesting in here, I bet, and I'm not sure if Santa wants you to see that yet."

"It's nice to want things." Wendy opened the door and smirked. "What's Santa hiding now, that big, colossal jerk?" To Wendy's amazement, she was back at Santa's workshop. The lines of elves went on building toys non-stop. The big man himself surveyed his on-going mission, as he stood at the assembly line with his newest addition. Santa patted the shoulder of the pigtailed elf with a familiar, striped uniform. Her frozen, freckled beam was anything but the norm. The elf didn't even so much as breathe or blink, as her hands blindly manufactured new goods with a "clink, clink, clink!"

Wendy covered her mouth, "No! No way! This cannot be! I know that mindless little elf – that's me!"

Wendy's stomach grew nauseous as she stumbled away. Her pixie friend pleaded with her to stay. "Please, Wendy. You don't understand! This possible future is not Santa's ultimate plan!" But Wendy refused to hear her anymore. "Stay away from me! Let me outta this place!" she roared.

The blackened arena shattered like broken glass, Wendy was back in front of Santa and his elven class. The force of the mighty ginger had broken Santa's spell, as her outburst made him land on his jingle bells.

Wendy marched towards him with a nasty glare, until she was pulled back by her ankle snare. "I've had it with you, fat man! You've hit my last nerve! Now, it's about time that I give you what you deserve! You kidnap me and bring me to this awful place, and then you turn me into one of the elven race! You threaten me with child labor? So what? Big deal! Do you know the geezer I work for? He's an even bigger heel! Then, you dare to invade my mindscape and some, and pervert my most private of memories, you scum! You wanna make me your slave? I'd want you to try. Come a few steps closer, and I'll be happy to give you a black eye! I'll give you one last chance to change your mind. I'm too generous, I know. I'm not asking, I'm telling: LET-ME-GO!"

The other elves remained silent as Santa stood upright. His demeanor had changed to that of sorrow, not fright. "My poor Wendy Corduroy. I feel I failed you. For on this night, I was unable to give you Christmas spirit renewed. Your anger and pain is just way too great, I fear this time, ol' St. Nick had arrived too, too late. Your fate has been sealed. I'm sorry it sounds so grim. I have no other choice but to leave you to…him…

With that, Santa and his elves took their leave, leaving Wendy stunned as she couldn't believe. "Where are you all going? What? The truth was too much to bear? Didn't anyone hear me? I said lemme outta here!"

Now, left by herself and trapped in the empty hall, Wendy slumped down into a saddened ball. Her green eyes grew watery, but she refused to cry. To give her captors the satisfaction, the girl would rather die. The worse thing of all no one knew she was stuck here, as they enjoyed their Christmases without worry or care.

"I can't really blame them." Wendy said, with her chin on her knees. "I know I have hang-ups about Christmas. That part's solely on me. Still, I wish that someone could look beyond their bliss, and see that I was missing and things were amiss."

Little did Wendy know, as her mind began to wander, a new portal formed on the assembly wall beyond yonder. She didn't notice the window leading away from this nightmare, until she could make out familiar voices she'd know anywhere.

"Dipper? Dipper? Are you in there? Where are you now? To where did you disappear?"

Wendy climbed on top of the conveyor belt, as the icy feeling in her heart started to melt. Dipper Pines sat on his bed, with a wireless phone in hand, as his twin Mabel charged into the room with a demand. "Dipper, come join the party! What's the matter with you?" He explained to his sister, "Mabel, it's Wendy. I can't get through! All I wanted was to wish her a Merry Christmas, but no one seems to know where she is! I tried the Shack, and Tambry and Nate and the other teens. And no one picks up at her home. The phone just rings and rings! I don't mean to be overprotective, Mabel. I know I have a choice, but I'd feel so much better if I could hear Wendy's voice."

"Oh, Dipper," Mabel sat next to him on his bed. "Quit being such a big worry-head. Wendy's a big girl. She can handle things by her own. The last thing she'd want you to do is make this overblown. It's not a big deal. Christmas isn't Wendy's thing. If she wanted to be here, she would have given us a ring. Remember last summer? Here, I'll give you a clue. You can't force someone to do something they don't wanna do. Now, come on, already! Turn that frown upside-down! Let's get back to the party before anyone notices you're not around!"

And with that, Mabel went back on her way, but in spite of her speech, Dipper still wanted to stay. His parents' party was filled with family friends unknown, and older cousins that rather spend more time on their cell phones. The thirteen-year-old felt like a stranger in his own house, wishing for something that could keep his Christmas spirit from being doused.

He sighed, and lurched forward with a sigh. "Mabel's right, but I couldn't help but try. I know Wendy's busy, but I still wish she would have come. Maybe then, this stupid party wouldn't be so lonely and dumb."

It was then that Dipper made a wish that he hoped would travel far: "I hope you're having a Merry Christmas, Wendy…wherever you are."

A heartbroken Wendy rested her forehead against the portal's seem, when at long last, her eyes started to teem. A line of tears traveled down each cheek as she started to cry. She didn't think of herself, but of her special little guy. "I'm so sorry, Dipper." Wendy sniffled. "I really made things a mess. I wish I could make it right. I should have said "yes.""

"Wendy?" "Dipper?"

"AAH!" The boy screamed as he flew off the bed, convinced at first, he was hearing voices in his head. But sure enough, in a wavy window above his room, contained the image of Wendy, with a sense of doom.

"Wendy?" Dipper asked again. "Is it really you in there?" "Of course it is, dork." She said from the portal in mid-air.

Dipper moved towards the vision of his crush, and upon seeing what was wrong, his voice went in a rush. "Wendy, what's happened? Why aren't you tall? Your hair! Your ears! And what's the deal with that weird hall?"

Wendy wiped her face and started to plead her case. "Dipper, you gotta help me get out of this place! You're not going to believe this! I'm at the North Pole! Santa kidnapped me, and he won't let me go! He's forcing me to make toys and talk to Christmas ghosts. It's like he's trying to find what irritates me the most!"

Dipper immediately sprung to the rescue. "Don't worry, Wendy. I'll find a way to save you!" He examined the portal up and down and side-to-side, But hadn't an idea how to reach his secret love without a guide. After a few minutes, Dipper stood on his bed, as no more plans danced around in his head. "I'm really sorry, Wendy. I haven't a clue. I've never seen anything like this before. I don't know how to help you."

The two teenagers stood on different borders of time and space, as they met for the first time in months face-to-face. Dipper placed a hand against his side of the plane, The shine in his eyes had vanished and drained. "I – I wish you were here with us…with me…" Wendy set her palm against her devotee's. "I do, too, buddy. Trust me. Right now, there's no other place I'd rather be…"

All of a sudden, as though a Christmas blessing, their hands were able to touch through the barrier's meshing! Wendy and Dipper's fingers entwined as they laughed in disbelief, the ability to make physical contact came as such a relief.

Dipper said, "How can this be? I don't understand. Is this really happening? Or is it sleight of hand?" Wendy squeezed harder, "Hey, kiddo? Not at all trying to be rude, but Santa's coming back soon, so please, pull me though, dude!"

With that, Dipper tightened his grip and gave a tug, His noodle arms pulled Wendy into a huge bear hug. Once the slender redhead was more than halfway through, their worries returned with a threat somewhat new.

"What's wrong now?" Dipper strained. "Of all the dumb luck…" "I almost forgot, Dipper." Wendy explained. "I'm stuck! That old fat jerk snapped a cuff on my foot super-tight, to make sure I'd stay in his crummy workshop all night!"

Dipper wouldn't stop trying. "There has to be something I can do. There's no way I'd ever give up on you!" Though the kind words touched Wendy deeply in this situation out of whack, a second later, she could feel something try to pull her back. "No!" Dipper dug his heels deep into the blankets of his bed. "Don' t think this is over! I'd rather drop dead!"

"Dipper! Don't let go!" "I won't!"

Both Dipper and Wendy screamed as they were pulled into the wormhole, They landed back at Santa's workshop back at the North Pole, where Santa awaited with a horrific beast by his side, a ten-foot, horned demon, a so-called protector of yuletide. It was bearded and dressed in tattered clothing, its appearance was terrifying and somewhat loathing. The screams of the damned came from a container on its side. It held a wooden paddle, meant to tan wicked hides. Upon seeing this monster, the partners-in-crime shrieked, holding each other in terror as their knees became weak.

Santa shook his head, "Wendy, I've tried my best to make this right, but I feel there's nothing I can do to have you see the light. There's only one way to curb your attitude so pompous. I introduce to you, the Christmas monster known as the Krampus!

The fanged behemoth unleashed an unearthly roar, that even managed to shake the whole floor. It took a hooved step forwards in its quest, far from trendy, to claim the soul of the wicked child known as Wendy.

"Wait!"

Dipper shielded his still-ensnared sweetheart, He held his arms outwards, ready to do his part. The tiny boy's eyes met with his one-time rival, "Santa…" he greeted, thinking only of Wendy's survival. "Dipper…" Santa replied in the same, sober tone. "So, how goes those "Anti-Santa" traps in your home?" "You already know," Dipper grimaced, "That they're far from okay, but that's not the reason I'm here today. I don't have all the details, but I think I know enough. Please let Wendy go, and we'll be gone without a huff! I know at first, Wendy seems aloof and really tough. But she's so much more than that! Take it from this cream-puff! I get that Christmas spirit is your thing. That's okay and fine. If it's such a big deal, then what about mine? There is nothing I want more than to have Wendy to come home with me, so I ask you kindly, can't we please just let things be? I don't have a leg to stand on. But still, I'll beg this of you today: Please, Santa. Don't take my Wendy away!"

Dipper turned back to see Wendy slightly blushing. He corrected the mistake he made by rushing.

"I mean, "Don't take Wendy away!"

Santa and his pet gave each other a quick look, Their combined decision no more than a split second took:

"NO!"

The Krampus crept by Wendy, as she froze in a trance, as Dipper fought back with a second chance. "All right! You want a bad kid to give your curse? What if I could name someone even worse? A person that definitely deserves your type of misery? Here's a thought. How about you take me?!"

"Dude, don't!" Wendy said. "You really need to shut up now! If you keep going, you'll end up as this thing's Christmas chow!"

But Dipper ignored his crush's protests, and began to list off his sins and confess. "I've lied, cheated, and stole too many times, and that's only the beginning of my crimes! I beat up a gang of gnomes and marked them for dead. I fought living wax statues and cut off Larry King's head! I raised zombies up and left those secret agents to die, and made my sister, Pacifica, and even Wendy cry. I won't fight you, creature. I'll admit I made my own bed. I'll ask you a second time, leave Wendy, and take me instead!"

The Krampus licked his lips with a sense of glee, truly fascinated by Dipper's dirty laundry. He changed course to add Dipper to his collection, as Wendy dashed in front to offer her protection.

"Ain't going to happen, ugly! Not no how, or no way! Lay a claw on that kid, and I swear you're going to pay! If you want Dipper, you'll have to go through me first! So, come on, tough guy! I'm prepared to take your worst! If anyone deserves a decent Christmas, it's Dipper, my boy! And it's gonna happen, or else, my name's not Wendy Corduroy!"

To Wendy and Dipper's surprise, both tormentors began to laugh. Santa and Krampus supported each other so they wouldn't split in half. The elder's smile returned, "See, Wendy? I knew you would come through! Your act of sacrifice shows your Christmas spirit has been truly renewed! Santa's deed has been done. There's no further need for this. You two are free to go and enjoy Christmas bliss!"

Wendy raised an eyebrow, worried if there was another trick to be found. "Seriously?" Santa snapped his fingers a third time, as her shackle opened and fell to the ground. "Seriously."

Dipper and Wendy walked to the portal shining so bright, as Wendy realized something still wasn't quite right. "Santa, my man, I really don't mean to stall, but before we go, can you please make me tall?"

Dipper elbowed his friend, "I dunno. I think I like you better this way." "Please, Dipper, don't give him ideas." Wendy whispered with dismay.

Santa let out another joyful laugh, "Oh, I almost forgot, my dear. When you go home, your natural height will return, so have no fear." He and the Krampus offered a wave as the duo traveled back to California. "Have a Merry Christmas! But if not, you can't say we didn't warn ya!"

Back in Piedmont, Wendy and Dipper landed back in his bedroom, as she discovered she was no longer fitted in elven costume. Wendy's lumberjack clothing and height were rightfully restored, as the portal closely behind them, hopefully forevermore. Relieved, they rushed in for a snuggly embrace, their hearts still racing from escaping such a crazy place.

Dipper looked up at Wendy, "Are you sure you're alright?" "Thanks to you, buddy." She grinned and held him tight. "I don't know what to say, Dipper. Tonight, you really came though." "Oh, it was nothing." He blushed. "If reversed, I'd know I could count on you."

Their touching reunion was suddenly interrupted, as from the doorway, a shrill squeal erupted: "Ohmigosh!" Mabel grabbed her cheeks. "You're really here!" She wrapped around Wendy's waist as the much-taller girl rubbed her brown hair. "I knew I heard your voice! Did you change your mind?" Wendy turned to Dipper as she was caught in another bind. "Actually, Mabel." Dipper started. "Wendy wanted to surprise us. She spent all day and night traveling here on a small bus." Wendy followed along with Dipper's white lie about her stay. "I hope I'm not too late to join you guys on Christmas Day?" "What? No way!" Mabel exclaimed with excitement and great cheer. She flew from the room, "Hey, everybody! You won't believe who's here!"

With the two following along at a safe distance, Wendy gave Dipper a love tap, "Hey, thanks again for the quick assistance." "No biggie." He said with an embarrassed modest. "But if I can ask, are you sure you're ready for all this?" She threw her arm around her favorite little dork. "Of course I am, but now, let's get to work! I have something special to share with you two. Call it an old family recipe: Chocolate-frosted Christmas trees with just a pinch of sesame."

As they rounded the corner, Mabel teased, "Hey, you two! Guess where you're below? You guys are right under the mistletoe – "

"O-kay! That's enough right there!"

Wendy leaned forward on her knees as Dipper remained cross-legged on the colored rug on the floor. They looked up at Soos, dressed in a Santa cap, as he read from a selection of his fanfiction in Stan's recliner.

"Wow…" Dipper rested a heavy head against his fists. "I really didn't believe Soos when he said he made a Christmas story starring us, but there it is…"

"What's the matter?" Soos asked with a disappointed look. "You guys didn't like my Christmas rhymes?"

"No offense, Soos." Wendy threw out an arm in outrage, "But that story was kinda sexist, don't cha think? Why was I the one kidnapped? And Dipper saving me? Isn't that sorta cliché?"

"Well," Dipper held a finger up. "There was that one time at the Dusk2Dawn…"

"Exactly, buster! One time! Check the rescue scorecard, pal! I guarantee I have more saves checked off than you. Bet on it! And you really think Santa can take me on? Let 'im try! I'll punch him in the mistletoe, and break my foot off in his ho-ho – "

*CRASH!*

A thunderous crash could be heard on the Mystery Shack's roof. The sound made all three freeze in their tracks.

"Um," Dipper mumbled. "What was that you were saying, Wendy?"

"I – I," The lumberjane rambled nervously. "Like I was saying, maybe we should take a break, and get some hot cocoa and cookies, and see if there's any wholesome Christmas TV specials on."

"Good idea!"

"Sounds like a plan!"

The boys and Wendy jumped up and left the room, pressed together back-to-back. Their eyes searched every corner, in fear of a possible yuletide attack.

-------------------------------------------------------------

"And from this point here, our story finally concludes. Have a Happy Holiday, my friends. And remember, Santa's always watching you…"

[freshlyjuicedbeetles]

Drakgo Ficlet 2

Thanks for the lovely feedback for the first installment! Allow me to introduce myself. Hi! I’m Chelsea. I grew up watching KP way back when. I grew out of it a little before the finale, so there are things I’m hazy on. I need to set aside time to sit down and watch the series before the movie comes out. I forgot about the series until a few years ago (I think it was because a guy in my college/university psych class had the Kimmunicator beep and it went off in class and a huge wave of nostalgia hit us all) and fell in love with Dear ol’ Drakken and Shego. Also, I totally followed Shego’s career path without knowing it. I have a degree in Childhood Development AND I’m a substitute teacher. Feel free to chat with me or make requests!

Juliet Lowe lived across the street from the Lipsky’s and the Sanderson’s. As a veterinarian, she was utterly devoted to animals, especially her Golden Retriever, Charlie. Hank Sanderson tended to call her a ‘tree huggin’, animal-lovin' commie,’ despite exchanging a minimum of words with her, usually when his own dog, Moe got out. Juliet tried to explain to him that he needed a better fence to contain Moe and that playing with him would tire him out so he wouldn’t want to chew on the fence or run around the neighborhood. Juliet was always met with rude comments and an eye roll.

She noticed the commotion from the new neighbors only mutely. It was reduced price spay and neuter week at her office and she was uncomfortably deep in animal genitalia.  Charlie had been a good, patient boy during the week and had earned an extra-long walk that day.

Commodore Puddles was a king in his own mind. He merely tolerated the human man who doted on him and begrudgingly only listened to the loud, yelling woman that never seemed to leave anymore. Normally, if he was displeased, he’d attack, but he knew better than to mess with her. That didn’t mean he didn’t act out. They didn’t call him Puddles for nothing…

Puddles did like his new home with the weird and annoying humans. He liked sitting in the window seat and watching the world go by. It had only been a week and the mail carrier was already terrified of the pink poodle. It was his house and his house only!

He was jarred awake when Shego bounded down the stairs loudly, waking him up. He had half a mind to rip into her ankle and leave a present in her purse. Shego had just popped outside to get the mail, leaving the door open. Puddles got up and stretched, deciding if he marked his territory better, the mail carrier wouldn’t bother him.

Both Shego and Juliet walked out of their homes at the same time. Charlie instantly saw the poodle and thought ‘new dog! New friend!’ Puddles saw the Golden Retriever and instantly thought that another being was intruding on his territory. Both dogs ran towards each other each with drastically different goals in mind.

“Puddles!” Shego yelled in annoyance and chased after him.

“Charlie!” Juliet exclaimed, running after her dog.

Shego grabbed Puddles under his front legs as soon as he was in reach. Juliet pulled Charlie back by his harness.

“Sorry about him,” Juliet said, “Charlie is too friendly for his own good,”

“Don’t worry about it. Puddles’ has a superiority complex and has to defeat anything in his way.” Shego was annoyed that Puddles made her socialize but decided to play nice anyway. If she wanted her new home to be relaxing and drama free, she’d have to.

“I’m Juliet, by the way,” She said, offering her hand. “This is Charlie.”

“Stephanie Lipsky,” Shego replied, taking her hand. “That’s Commodore Puddles. I know, stupid name. My husband named him.”

Juliet noticed Shego’s strong handshake.

The dogs at their feet were smelling each other. Charlie caught on that Puddles was not a friendly dog. He gave a small whine and laid down behind Juliet. Puddles raised his chin and sat at Shego’s feet.

“I’ve never seen a pink poodle before,” Juliet remarked.

“Yeah, my mother-in-law likes to dye him with beet juice? I dunno, I stopped questioning her a looong time ago.” Shego answered.

“So, what do you do, Stephanie?”

“Oh, I work with my husband.” She replied casually, hoping that Juliet wouldn’t pry further.

Unbeknownst to Juliet and Shego, Janice was watching them from behind her flouncy lace curtains. “There’s something not quite right about those new neighbors.” She said to Hank.

“The husband is a bit of dweeb, wouldn’t worry ‘bout him too much,” He replied. “The wife is the one to worry about.”

“Well, let me catch you up on the social strata of the neighborhood. There are the Sanderson’s” Juliet said nodding to their house. “Janice is as nosy and judgmental as can be. Hank is a loudmouth conservative who thinks anyone who disagrees with him ‘needs to go back where they came from’. There was a lovely Cherokee couple who lived next door to me a few years ago and Hank loved to blow smoke from his truck. Well, they had a little boy who had asthma and they practically begged Hank to stop but he wouldn’t,” Juliet grimaced and shook her head, “he started doing it out of spite because ‘it’s mah right as an merican,’ she said gruffly, imitating Hank’s voice.

“What a dick,” Shego replied. Shego herself never claimed to be a saint (or want to be one) but that was just asinine.

“Janice is an antivaxxer, so if you have kids, keep them away from her brood. She also believes pseudoscience and that essential oils cure everything or whatever direct sales company she’s repping for this month.”

Charlie looked forlornly at Puddle’s scowling face. Why didn’t this new dog want to be friends?

“Let’s see,” Juliet said, turning to the next house, “Your right-side neighbor is Teresa. She’s not a bad neighbor, but she loves drama. She’s always complaining about something on the neighborhood Facebook group. “Wahhh, my exes are terrible, men: please treat your ladies better! Oh, woe is me, everyone I know is toxic, blah blah blah.’ I mean, if you’re having that much trouble in all your relationships, romantic or otherwise, maybe you’re the problem?”

“Luckily, you have an awesome left side neighbor, Hazel. Everyone calls her Miss Hazel. She’s in her seventies and is as sweet as can be but doesn’t take crap from anyone. She dressed down Janice and Hank last week for letting their hooligans run rampant. She was a paratrooper in the ’60s and is a tough old gal. Her husband, Liam, passed away last year, so our other neighbor’s, Michael and Steven and I check up on her frequently. If she loves you, she’ll bake for you and it is divine. If you get to know anyone in this neighborhood, it’s her.”

Puddles was getting bored and it was almost dinner time! He pawed at Shego’s leg.

“Puddles!” She warned, quickly turning her attention back to Juliet. She learned long ago if someone gave you valuable information, you listened. Never one to give trust easily, she needed to know who keep an eye on.

Puddles groaned and decided to chew on his own leg.

Juliet turned, pointing to another house, “That’s Michael and Steven. They’re great, you shouldn’t have any problems with them. That’s me next to them. I have a nine-year-old daughter named Nikki. Get ready, she’s a Girl Scout and cookie season is coming up.”

“Don’t tell my husband that. He’ll clean her stock out and fall into a food coma.” Shego replied.

Juliet winced playfully, “Yeah, I’m kinda teaching my daughter to be a bad bitch and to drive a hard bargain and not be a pushover in general. If she smells weakness, she’ll take advantage. So, if she gets him to, I’m not going to stop her.”

The two laughed.

“And my other neighbor is a guy named George. I have never seen him in my entire life living here. He never comes out. The most you’ll ever see of him is lights on in house. Nothing else, he has his groceries delivered and company do lawn and exterior home maintenance. He’s in the Facebook group but never posts or comments,” Juliet shrugged, “I only know someone named George lives there because of Hazel. So, I dunno what’s his deal.”

Shego could tell that she was being watched. It was a given that Janice was watching her. Maybe it was her own instincts or the powers the comet gave her, Shego tell someone who was keenly aware of her presence in the neighborhood was watching her. She played it cool, not wanting to tip off her onlooker.

George Vaughn thought that the new neighbors looked familiar…

[carraville]

 year in fic review (2017)

using the wonderful @neyvenger​ ‘s template! everyone should do this i wanna read <3

Year at a glance:  Total number of completed stories: 25 (26 if u count hockey) Total word count:  146929

Overall Thoughts:

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d predicted?  LOTS MORE it’s probly bc i wrote a hella lot while jumping from train to train traveling all of Europe, and probly bc i gave up on school by mid-sem last year, and probly bc the only thing i can do at work that looks like i’m still doing work when i’m not is write 

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted in January? The fuCKING GERMS i blame it on germs like i 100% would never have thought i’d write 16k of thomasfips who does that also joemilly??? but i luff

What’s your own favorite story of the year? i dont have one i love and hate them all equally... i guess strangeways here we come just bc i took so damn long to write it and tbf i didn’t write a lot of carraville this year so it was kind of like my One and Only 

Did you take any writing risks this year?

writing a lot of people I didn’t know how to write, writing about a lot of Big Things (particularly on the bridge between starshine and clay) that i wasn’t sure about, writing a lot of aus i’d never done before, writing ??? PORN???? even tho ive never banged anyone in my life

Do you have any fanfic or profic goals for the new year? all 12 months of football prompts! hopefully! and writing more new ships and meeting more people and reading good fic  also finally doing all my historical aus bc if there’s one thing i’ve learnt this year, it’s not to give a shit what other people want and just write what u want even if no one is going to read it xoxo

From my past year of writing, what was…

My best story of this year: from a writing perspective i think an die nachgeborenen just bc it was the most? complete, i guess? and plotty? like if i changed the names and pretended it wasn’t creepy i could probably send it for rejection 

My most popular story of this year:  strangeways, here we come i guess cos i published it around that time the r*dditors were sneaking around lmao

Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion:  the wonder of my world cos it’s niche and manc but!!!!!!! i love my mancs

Most fun story to write: fuckin.  30 Shades Of Red

Story with the single sexiest moment: The Anonymous Present That Appeared For Sab’s Birthday That Doesn’t Exist 

Most “holy crap, that’s wrong, even for you” story: Again, The Anonymous Present that Doesn’t Exist 

Story that shifted my own perceptions of the characters: I’m pretty set when it comes to characters, I guess, because I only like writing when I understand them, but maybe Aubade bc I’d never written Iker till then and I really liked how it turned out

Hardest story to write:  summer sang in me a little while bc it was a) wrestling with a Lot of Football feelings that I didn’t know how to talk about, b) wresting with trashbag xabi alonso and what I thought of him vs. what other people thought of him, c) writing ships and people I had 0 idea about

Biggest surprise:  i like germs! wtf

Highlights + Wrap-up:  ok I TRIED TO PICK DIFFERENT ONES FROM ALL FIC 

Favorite Opening Lines (3):

when the world was ours

There's a crunch. There's a crunch and it's over. 

the setting sun is sweetest last

When all the hands have been shaken and hugs exchanged someone presses a microphone into his hands and he fumbles, not quite sure how to put what he's feeling into words. Eventually he settles for something about looking towards the final on Saturday and he sees David from the corner of his eye shaking his head, almost as if to say: god, Gaz, how do you manage to make everything about United when this should be about you.

In the end, it's simple.

cheesed to meet you

Philipp calls Thomas first, because he always calls Thomas first.

"I didn't do it," Thomas says immediately, with the kind of well-practiced plausibility that only comes from doing the things he says he hasn't done.

Favorite Closing Lines (4):

yes, yes, we are magicians

You jog back to the halfway line. Your face must be shining under the lights, and you wonder if mum's in the crowd, smiling. Let's go to Wembley some day. Rooney rolls the ball to you and you're off again, no marcus's ball scribbled into the patchy leather, no divots and pot-holes in a sandy, well-worn pitch.

You're nineteen years old and going to the Euros.

Every blade of grass here is the exact same height.

in this story we belong to ourselves

Liverpool is. A river that runs before two men who used to have numbers on their backs and now have a house no longer empty. A stream of memories and breaking apart and going again. The Mersey, quiet, grey, flowing gently through the Narrows and out into the great big sea, ever so slightly out of reach.

Variation IX

He says I've missed you, mate.

I say You know, I thought you might.

He says I hope you missed me too.

I say Well of course, otherwise where would I go for Christmas this year?

And then he starts laughing and I start laughing and we laugh and laugh and don’t stop until he kisses me again.

yes, there will be song

You step back and turn, take the steps two at a time. Somewhere outside Anfield there's a man with a shirt that's as as red as the names on the back. He's got a scarf around his neck like a docker, and he presses his face to the Shankly gates like he's kissing a trophy. Make us dream, he whispers, a secret he's never told anyone else, his heart heavy and his eyes tired but his body trembling with a belief too full for words. Above him, the sky is golden.

Favorite Lines From Anywhere (5):

strangeways, here we come

It's weak against Paraguay, it's tired against Paraguay, but the England fans are singing and they have to listen. Countries are not clubs. This sinks deeper than loyalty, at once more insular and more ubiquitous than Liverpool or United could ever be. There are little flags hung up in Sainsbury's, strangers with their arms round each other in pubs, the radios of an electronics store tuned in to Radio 5 Live. Come on England. Bandied about like a mantra, a swear word, a secret password offered by old hands who brace themselves for more disappointment with a nudge and a wink. England always - a host of words go here, crash out , fuck up , lose , but -

Believe rises above them all. Maybe it's delusional. Maybe it's arrogant. Beckham takes a free kick that delights and astonishes the way his free kicks do and it ends up in the back of the net. Every four years St George goes back up and people who still remember '66 are bought a pint, and for every we'll go out at the group stages there's an underlying thread of god help me, we might win this yet, because what is hope if not alive?

Come on England. The cup awaits you and is yours.

sekrit yuletide fic

In his dreams he doesn't leave. Salvador Iglesias Sr. doesn't die and Chava doesn't become a dickhead. He keeps the number on his back and the band around his arm. He doesn't cheat on Ximena, but he tells her, and they part as best friends. In his dreams they win the championship. And again the next year, and again the one after that. Each time Potro scores the winning goal and Moi runs to him to celebrate and Potro kisses him for the whole world to see, over and over, until their lips are numb and all they know are themselves.

summer sang in me a little while

Why are you still here? you ask him. It is easier that way. He turns to you, dark circles under his eyes, and doesn't reply. Only reaches over to tangle his calloused fingers in your hair, rests his forehead against yours.  This time you are the one who leans forward to kiss him, immersing yourself in the warmth of his skin. You taste his blood. You taste the salt and iron of his blood.

the wonder of my world

What makes a club? Love, belief, hope - and someone to attach it to, the player everyone grows up watching, whose name is instantly recognisable to the point that you don't have to mention who he plays for next. Who pours his soul into the game and hammers his heart onto the crest. You don't get that kind of player very often. United were lucky to have three.

So here. The last musketeer. He's not looking at the crowd anymore, just the middle distance. Still the thousands sing. Love, belief, hope, and memories. Ryan might never run again but Paul realises that it doesn't matter. It's that he's already run. And in a hundred years from now someone might pull up a grainy youtube video and watch the number eleven on the left wing and fall in love, all over again. The way he was meant to be loved. Ball at his feet. Red.

an die nachgeborenen

"I don't need a plan," Thomas says, like he's talking to a child. "That's the beauty of it. All I have to do is wait and see what happens. It's only – " he smiles again, wan, quiet. "Well. You know."

The refrain arcs, jagged, through Philipp's head.

"I promised you wouldn't die."

"I won't." Thomas stands up, leaves a hand on Philipp's shoulder. His palm is still warm. "I'm invincible, didn't I tell you?"

And with a single, chipper whistling note, he hits the exit button and slips out, the door closing immediately behind him with a gentle click .

Fic Goals for 2018:

i wna write gifts that people will like :> aka MORE NICHE BULLSHIT 

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Balance on the Head of a Pin

Chapter Seven

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x OFC  |  Word Count: 4493 Warnings: not quite smut but a little smexy, Loki being Loki

“Was that, perhaps, excessive?” he asked, glancing down at Lauren.

She gave a soft sigh. “Maybe, but… would I be a horrible person if I said I rather enjoyed it?”

He chuckled softly, drawing her in by the waist. “We shall simply be horrible together, for I, too, rather enjoyed myself. Both the breaking and the repair.”

Lauren shook her head, smirking a little for she could see the merriment twinkling in his eyes. “I can tell.” Taking him by the hand, she glanced around to orient herself. “Huh, well that was convenient.” He’d landed them not far from Main Street. “You’re portals, are they like Dr. Strange’s?” she asked, leading him toward the town square.

Loki scoffed and shook his head. “All that circling.” He waved his hand absently. “What you Midgardians are tapping into is only a fraction of what is available. Perhaps in a millennium or two, you will catch up. For now, I leave you to your Mystic Arts and sling rings.”

She let it go, not wanting to debate something with him she knew little about. Dr. Strange had randomly appeared in Tony’s office on a few occasions, but usually, he used the door.

Instead, she tugged Loki toward the square where the red, white, and blue banners were being strung. “Oh, it’s gonna be so pretty when they’re done!” she smiled.

“It reminds me of feast days in Asgard.”

Lauren looked up to find him smiling a little grin. “Do you miss it?”

“Asgard? Yes, sometimes, but I am… content here.” His grin turned a tad wicked. “It is so easy to make mischief on your world. So many things to cause to go wrong.”

She shook her head. “I thought you were reformed?”

“From doing evil, but mischief is fun… for the one making it.”

“So bad,” she snickered.

“I believe you like me that way, darling,” he laughed.

She tugged on his hand and headed down the street. People had a tendency to stare, but she didn’t really think it was her they were looking at.

Loki drew eyes everywhere he went. His handsome face and stature, the presence he exuded as he walked, it had people instantly paying attention. But his eyes never strayed far from her, something Lauren was finding both thrilling and endearing. He may sweep his gaze out and around, assess those who approached them or who stood across the street, but they always returned to her.

Here, she finally saw what she’d only read about in reports. They’d talked about the War God Loki, but she’d only ever seen the man he was in private. In public, though he looked no different than any other man on the street - perhaps he was better dressed than most - one could see the innate core of strength, of danger, which resided within his powerful frame.

Everyone who could, possibly, pose a threat was assessed, weighed, measured, and dismissed. Loki moved with a confidence that bespoke his place in the world. People may not know who he was, but they certainly knew he wasn't someone to mess with.

Walking with him, Lauren felt far more important than ever before. She was someone at his side, someone special enough that this clearly powerful male was dancing attendance on her. Then, the faces turned to shock when they recognized her.

Lauren bit her lip to keep from laughing as she pulled open the door to a shop and walked inside. A colourful array of high-end women’s clothing spread out before her. Pants and dresses, suits, hats and accessories filled the space and lined the walls. 

From the back of the shop, a voice called out, “Y’all have a gander! I’ll be right out.”

Smirking up at the confused look on Loki’s face, Lauren led him deeper into the store.

When the woman who’d spoken appeared from the back room Lauren called out, “I came in looking for somethin’ classy, didn’t realize they were lettin’ trashy run the joint.”

Slamming her hands to her hips, the brunette with the wild mane of curls and flashing hazel eyes sneered, “It takes trashy to know trashy, Lauren Annandale!”

Loki stiffened immediately. Lauren only laughed. Squealing excitedly, she dashed forward to throw her arms around Sadie. “Lordy, girl! I’ve missed you so!”

“Right back at you, Lulu!” Sadie squeezed just as tight. “Let me look at you!”

Lauren stepped back and blushed when Sadie’s face showed her appreciation.

“Lord have mercy, just look at you. I bet your sisters just dun gone and had themselves a conniption when they saw you. Cissy would be green with envy and Marabeth would be fit to be tied. She’s gettin’ to be as bad a Samuel with the penny-pinchin'.”

“Oh, do go on, Sadie!” Lauren scolded, flustered by the praise.

“You’ve just got to tell me what store in New York City you found this ensemble in.”

She shook her head with a wry smile. “I’m afraid it’s an original creation.”

“Really?” Sadie gasped. “By what designer, hun? It’s marvellous.”

Lauren freed her hand and turned, holding it out for Loki. “By him. Sadie Brockett, meet Loki Laufeyson. Sadie is my very best friend, practically since we were knee-high to a grasshopper.”

Sadie’s eyes grew round as she held out her hand. “Well shut my mouth. Lauren! He’s the God of Mischief!”

Loki chuckled and lifted her hand, holding it between his eyes sparkling with amusement. “I am indeed. It is a pleasure to meet someone my darling Lauren calls a friend.” 

“I take it you’ve already met Lulu’s family?”

“Yes,” he nearly growled.

“Loki,” Lauren sighed when he released Sadie’s hand to place his arm around her waist.

“I love you, darling, but your family is horrid,” he stated without a hint of remorse.

Sadie’s eyes again grew large. “Lauren Guillemin! Have you been keepin’ secrets from your best friend?”

Lauren bit her lip. “Well…” she blushed, glancing at Loki.

“Damn it, girl! How could you?” Sadie slammed her hands back on her hips.

“Lauren was simply acquiescing to my wishes,” Loki soothed. “For her safety, it was best not known she was my Ástvinur until steps were taken.” Picking up her left hand, Loki brought it to his mouth where he ran his lips along her knuckles, making sure the stone in her ring glinted. The wicked, dancing light in his eyes showed he knew exactly what he was doing.

A high pitched squeal spilled from Sadie’s lips as she yanked Lauren’s hand away from Loki. “You’re marrin’ the god of Mischief? Oh, hun! I’m so happy for you!” She dragged Lauren back for another hug. “After all the natterin’ your mama and sisters have been doin’ about Montgomery, I wasn’t sure you’d even be comin’ home for the Fourth, but I’m so, so happy you did!”

“I take it mama’s been in here talkin’?” Lauren sighed, leaning on her friend.

Sadie snorted. “Every damn day.”

“And you couldn’t talk her outta buying that hideous pink dress?”

“You know how she is when she gets a bee in her bonnet about somethin’. There was just no changin’ that woman’s mind.”

“I take it you dislike Montgomery, Miss Brockett?” Loki interjected.

“That man is about as useful as tits on a boar,” she scoffed, “and if you’re marryin’ Lulu, getting her away from George, you’re more than welcome to call me Sadie.”

“I would very much like to know where the name Lulu comes from,” Loki asked with a wicked grin.

“Gran,” the girls said together.

“Ah, the illustrious Gran I keep hearing about. I look forward to meeting her.”

“She’ll be pleased as punch to meet you, what with the way Lauren goes on in her letters,” Sadie smirked at Lauren.

“Oh for… ugh!” Lauren slapped a hand to her face. “Y’all are just not gonna let that go!”

Talking her hand, Loki drew her back to his chest, his fingers ghosting over the heat which bloomed to life in her cheeks. “I find it endearing, darling. Your adoration is charming.”

“And a lovely stroke to your ego, I have no doubt,” she sighed, leaning into his hand.

A second sappy sigh erupted, this one from Sadie who looked on with a goofy grin. “Y’all are just too freakin’ cute!”

Loki’s lips pressed to her hair as Lauren blushed even brighter.

“You’re comin’ to the party, right?” Lauren asked, trying desperately to cool the heat in her face.

“Wouldn’t miss it now I know you’re home, Lulu.”

When the door opened at her back, she felt Loki stiffen, his entire demeanour changing to one of high alert before relaxing again. Turning to look, she smiled a little tightly to find Mary Ann Dalton and her daughter Georgia coming through the door.

“Oh man,” Sadie muttered before plastering on a fake smile. “Afternoon, ladies! Y’all need help with anythin’ today?”

“Why, Lauren Annandale that is you! I hardly recognized you with all that city finery,” Mary Ann said, striding quickly through the shop, completely ignoring Sadie.

“Miss Mary Ann, Georgia. A pleasure to see you again,” she said. Her discomfort must have been clear to him because Loki immediately tightened the hold he had on her waist.

“And who is this young man?” Mary Ann asked, her smile sharp and eyes assessing.

“Loki would be Lauren’s fiancé,” Sadie replied before Lauren could, her best friend’s face nearly gleeful.

Oh crap… There were no bigger gossips than the Dalton mother and daughter. By the end of the day, everyone in town would know Lauren had come home with a new man. “Ha, yes. Loki Laufeyson, my fiancé.”

“Well shut my mouth!” Georgia gasped, “He’s an Avenger, mama!”

“Indeed I am, ladies,” he said, his smile tight. “Will you excuse me, darling? I should really check in with the Tower.” He bussed her a kiss to the cheek before walking toward the front of the store.

Georgia had her by the wrist before he’d made the door. “Lauren Guillemin! You know the Avengers?”

“Georgia you need to get your ears checked. I’ve been sayin’ for years Lauren works with Tony Stark.” Sadie rolled her eyes at Georgia’s apparent lack of understanding.

“Sadie Brockett, you mind your manners,” Mary Ann huffed.

“Well, it’s the truth, Miss Mary Ann. Lauren’s worked for Stark for four years! You’d think that would settle in for people at some point in all this time.”

Sadie and the Dalton’s had never gotten on well. Her friend and Georgia had gone a round over Sadie’s boyfriend back in high school when Georgia decided Marcus was a better fit for her than for Sadie. Marcus had been flattered, but he’d stayed true to Sadie rejecting Georgia, who proceeded to start a nasty rumour about the two of them hooking up just to get back at Marcus and Sadie.

Sadie hadn’t believed it for a second, but had still ended up in a screaming match with Georgia, one which had ended when Marcus had intervened, calling Georgia a liar straight to her face and in front of a good majority of the student body.

If Sadie didn’t own the finest clothing store in town, Lauren doubted the Dalton’s would even grace the shop with their presence, but no one knew clothes like Sadie. As she was now married to Marcus, it didn’t matter a whit what Georgia had said.

Lauren detached herself from Georgia only to have her arm captured and linked through the pale brunette’s.

“You simply must come to tea with us,” Georgia demanded. “I’m dying to hear all about New York!”

“I’m afraid we already have plans, but thank you for the offer, Georgia.” Lauren extracted herself again.

“Oh dear, well that is too bad,” Mary Ann simpered. “I was so hopin’ we could catch up. I’m just shocked you’ve come home with a beau, what with the way your mama’s been goin’ on about George Montgomery and all.”

She felt the rush of cold air and glanced up to see Loki walking toward them. “Loki, hun? Everythin' alright?” There shouldn’t have been cold air coming from the doorway, so she knew it had to be coming off her Frost Giant.

He didn’t have the strut Bucky did, not that murder strut which made one think he was coming to kill them. No, Loki glided like a panther on the prowl. His shoulders were relaxed, his stride long but leisurely, eating up the ground. Eyes of blue were intense and focused, locked on his target who just so happened to be her. When he reached her, his hand immediately sought her waist, drawing her into him in a clear act of possession.

“Sergeant Barnes would like to speak with you, my sweet.” His eyes were hard and a little worried as he held out his phone.

“Alright,” she murmured taking it. “Sadie? You mind if I?” Lauren motioned to the back room.

“Go on, girl. You know your way around.” Sadie shooed her off.

Lauren glanced at Loki to make sure he would be fine. He tilted his head and proceeded to turn on the charm. Rolling her eyes, Lauren made her way around the counter, keeping the snickers soft as he waxed poetic about her delightful town and how the Dalton’s must be so pleased to live in such a quaint community. 

When she made it to the back room, Lauren gently closed the door and lifted the phone to her ear. “I haven’t even been gone a full day. You miss me already?”

“Dollface…” Bucky took a breath during which she could hear the grind of teeth as he tried to control whatever outburst was coming next. “What… the fuck is going on down there?!” he bellowed loud enough to have her pulling the phone from her ear.

“Damn it, Bucky. Stop yellin’!”

“No, I will not stop yelling! What the hell, Gilli! You went down with a pretend boyfriend you’re now marrying? What the fuck!”

She could picture the way he would be aggravatingly thrusting his hand through his hair. “Bucky…” she sighed, plunking herself down on Sadie’s wobbly stool. “Everythin’… everythin’ changed.” The softness of her tone must have given him pause for silence settled over the line for a few seconds before he sighed.

“He told you?”

“James Barnes, you knew, and you didn’t tell me!”

“Damn it, woman! Now, who’s yelling? And I only found out yesterday. But that doesn’t mean you should be running off and getting fucking engaged! What the hell, Gilli!” Something crunched in the background followed swiftly by muttered cussing.

“What you break?”

“Nothing,” he grumbled, which clearly meant something. “Answer the damn question, doll.”

“Buck…” she sighed, rubbing at her forehead and temples. “My mother invited George. He was waitin’ for me when I got here. Things… escalated quickly.” Quietly she explained everything which had happened with her family and George, leaving out the private bits between herself and Loki as she didn’t think that was something Bucky needed to know. “He did fix George’s arm when I asked him to.”

More silence hung on the line until a muffled snort preceded a rough bark of laughter. “And you thought I was gonna give your mama a heart attack!”

“Goodbye, James,” she huffed, hanging up on his loud guffawing. She sighed and shot a glare at the corner of Sadie’s stock room. “I know you’re there, peaches.”

He stepped from the shadows like a wraith. “So, I am not about to be drawn and quartered by the former Winter Soldier?”

Smirking a little, Lauren shook her head. “He seemed downright amused by the whole thing.” Holding out her hand, she let him tug her to her feet where she ended up back in his arms. “Back to eavesdroppin’?”

He only shrugged, unrepentant, and put his phone back in his pocket. “I noticed you left out all the fun bits in your recitation, darling. Have I not been making them memorable enough?” His wicked grin spread across his lips as he drew his fingers down her thigh, bunching the hem of her dress up to skim her flesh.

“You’re plenty memorable, elskan mín, but would you speak of our private business with Thor?” she asked, brow arched.

“I see you’re point, love.” Humming softly, he tucked his nose against her throat while his large hand skimmed up the back of her thigh. “Does that door happen to lock, my sweet?”

“It never used to,” she sighed, stretching her neck.

“Pity.” His teeth closed over her pulse.

Lauren whimpered softly. “How are you managin’ to split your focus like this?” Wasn’t he running an avatar in the other room, carrying on an entire conversation?

“Practice and discipline,” he sighed, stroking his hand down her thigh to catch her knee. He drew it up around his waist and pressed her back onto the table Sadie used for unpacking boxes.

“Loki, hun, this table’s not all that strong,” she groaned when he settled between her thighs.

He jerked her other leg up as her bottom connected with the table top. “I can fix that.” His mouth closed over hers.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she no longer cared about tables or Daltons or even Sadie for that matter. All she knew was the sensual heat of his stroking hands, sliding their way up her bare thighs, dragging her dress higher while he kissed her breathless.

Right up until the door swung open.

“Lauren, Loki seems to have disappeared… never mind,” Sadie snickered, hand going to her mouth. There was a gleeful light dancing in her eyes. “Y’all should know that table’s not that solid.”

“Hm. It would seem I lost my focus,” Loki said, sliding his hands down with a regret-filled sigh, bringing the hem of her dress with him. “So I was informed. It should stand up to much more vigorous activities now.”

Blushing at his wicked grin, Lauren smacked him gently on the chest. “Scoundrel, constantly gettin’ me in trouble.”

He pulled her from the table with a swift jerk, whispering in her ear, “You enjoyed it, my Valkyrie, don’t deny it.”

Flushing a brighter shade of pink, Lauren bit her lip. Her fingers wrapped the side of his neck as she whispered back, “Valhalla was callin' my name, my Loki.” When she drew back, she smiled even as she blushed harder for his eyes had lit with an inner fire she was beginning to know very well.

“Do not tempt me, dear one.” His hand drifted down her back to lazily cup her ass.

“Loki!” she squealed. “Behave, sir.”

“Or don’t. I’m fine either way,” Sadie snickered, leaning in the doorway. “The Dalton’s left, so I’m good to simply stand here and watch.”

“Don’t you go encouragin’ him! He’s known as the God of Mischief for a reason. He doesn’t need no help in that department.” Lauren waved Sadie out of the way with a huff.

Giggling like mad, Sadie followed, her smile spreading. “You want to try on your dress?”

Lauren glanced at the two of them over her shoulder. They bore nearly identical grins. It was highly disconcerting. “If you’ve got the time.”

Sadie waved a hand in dismissal and headed back the way they’d come.

“Dress?” Loki asked, his face showing interest.

“For the party. Mama’s parties are always formal. Super fancy. Sadie’s mama, back when she ran this place, used to special order the finery for us. Now, Sadie does. A couple of times I’ve gotten her help with Tony’s parties when I just hadn’t a clue what to wear.”

“She’s great with regular fashion and can run that man’s life like a drill sergeant, but when it comes to high fashion she’s a hopeless mess,” Sadie said, smiling to offset the criticism when she returned with the garment bag. “In you go, Lulu.” She motioned to the curtained dressing room.

Turning a sharp eye on Loki, Lauren said firmly, “Stay.”

“Of course, darling,” he grinned.

“All of it off, Lu,” Sadie called as Lauren closed the curtain.

“Excuse me?” Lauren squeaked.

“She makes that sound quite often,” Loki commented, causing Sadie to laugh.

“Yes, she does! Right down to the knickers, hun,” Sadie called.

“What the hell are you puttin’ me in?” Lauren muttered, more to herself than Sadie, and unzipped the garment bag. 

All she could see was what looked like miles of white. Unclipping her golden belt, Lauren placed its heavy weight on a small shelf. Drawing her current dress off her shoulders, she let it fall, only just realizing the bra she’d been wearing earlier in the day had also been changed into a strapless one when Loki had changed her clothing. Shaking her head at his attention to detail, she undid it, allowing it to join her dress, before stepping out of everything and gathering her discarded clothing to the side. The dress was much too lovely to leave lying on the floor. Pushing the garment bag the rest of the way off the hanger, Lauren gasped quietly at the softness of the fabric. It felt like cashmere but was much thinner.

She found the zipper in the side and pulled it down, took the dress from the hanger and stepped in, drawing it carefully up her body until she could slip her arm through the holes. “Oh… Sadie!” Lauren gasped, turning to the full-length mirror as she tugged up the zipper.

Sadie’s curly head poked through the curtain, ran an assessing eye over her, and frowned. “No, take the skivvies off as well.”

“What?” she hissed, glaring at her friend.

“What?” Sadie asked. “What’s the big deal? It ain’t like he’s never seen you without before. Lordy, girl. With the way y'all were carryin’ on in my stockroom, you could’a burned the place down! Woo! I’ve half a mind to call my husband for my own midday rendezvous.”

“Sadie!” Lauren gasped.

“Just do it, Lu!” she barked, jerking the curtain back in place.

“I hate you!”

“You love me!”

“No, I don’t,” Lauren pouted, turning to see her backside in the mirror.

“Lauren Guillemin! If you don’t drop them drawers, I will send your beau in to take them off for you!”

“I’m more than willing to assist, darling,” Loki crooned.

“Stay!” she barked, glaring at the curtain.

“But I do so love to be of assistance.”

Lauren rolled her eyes and ignored him as she drew up the long skirt of the dress and shucked her underwear. The fabric had been thin enough to show the outline of lace where it clung to her behind so she could understand Sadie’s insistence, but did she have to do so in front of Loki?

Sighing softly, she turned back to the mirror, gave herself another hard look, and smiled. “Alright, I still love you,” she called out to Sadie, pulling back the curtain.

***

The banter between Lauren and Sadie had been most amusing and highly entertaining, something Loki was happy to witness. Here, finally, was someone who cared for his precious one deeply, nearly as much as he did himself.

Small of stature, but tottering on incredibly tall heels, he was forced to wonder if this, too, was a normal thing for women of the south, though Sadie did not seem overly inclined to run places on hers. Her riot of curls appeared to be untameable, but she didn’t look to mind. Another fit female, she had ample hips on a curvy frame, and moved with a similar grace to Lauren, making him wonder if she, too, did the yoga.

Turning his attention back to the curtain, Loki felt his jaw unhinge when Lauren stepped beyond it in a body-hugging white sheath of a dress. Arms bare, the neckline followed the curve of her breasts, dipping just slightly, skimming down her sleek frame in a most pleasing fashion.

“Let’s see the back,” Sadie demanded.

Her cheeks were pink as Lauren turned, showing him how the wide straps fell down into a deep, low cut back, which draped slightly just above the curve of her backside. With how the fabric hugged every curve, he could see why Sadie had demanded the removal of her undergarments.

“Loki?”

He snapped out of the fantasy he was having about drawing the silky fabric up her thighs to discover her bare beneath only to find her chewing her lip with concern in her eyes. “Elskan mín,” he breathed reverence into his voice. “Stunning,” he purred, moving closer to take her in. “You shall outshine the moon in this.” Drawing his fingertips over her shoulder, he stopped where he could see the open back. “There is only one thing missing.”

“What?” she asked, her voice breathy and cheeks rosy.

“This.” Placing a fingertip on either shoulder, he drew his hands together until they touched, then slowly traced them down her spine. When he was finished, a small gold chain linked the shoulders of the gown together, while the tails fell down in glittering tendrils to tickle her spine. “There, it’s perfect, as are you, my Lauren.”

“Oh, wow…” Sadie whimpered, fanning her face. “If I weren’t married, I’d so fight you for him.”

He shook his head, smiled at Lauren, and cupped her cheek. “There is only one Ástvinur, and she is mine.” He bent and kissed her glossy lips. 

Sadie sighed softly, her tone one of awe. 

Loki ever so discretely ran his palm over Lauren’s backside. The fabric was quite thin and already warm from her skin. “You are beautiful, darling. I cannot wait to dance with you in this exquisite dress.” Turning her, so she was pressed against his chest, he swayed gently back and forth with her. Against her ear, he couldn’t help but whisper, “I cannot wait to peel you out of it.”

Lauren quivered all over, her heart pounding against his. “Loki,” she moaned quietly, melting against him.

“When is this party again?”

“Two days.”

“Excellent.” That gave him just enough time to complete his promise to her.

A blush burned high in Sadie’s cheeks, as the woman cleared her throat and fanned her face. “Yes, the Annandale’s throw their party the evenin’ of the third as the town does the dance and celebration, fireworks and things the fourth. It’s become a tradition.”

“It’s stuffy and borin’, but I’m sure you’ll keep me entertained, peaches,” Lauren smiled as she drew back.

“We’ll see, darling. Perhaps a little mischief will be in the offing?”

She snickered, pressed up on her toes, and kissed him firmly on the mouth. “I’m sure we’ll find somethin’ for you to have fun with.”

If not, he knew there would be someone to have fun with when the party ended. “I look forward to it, my sweet. Yes, very much so.”

Next Chapter

[seriouslyblacklikemysoul]

“Brisé, pourtant vivant”- Part IV - S.B.

[A/N: Part IV, as promised. Writing this, oh God. It left me with a bittersweet aftertaste. All those feels... my precious little boy. I hope you like it! It’s kind of long but I really couldn’t resist.  Warnings: My English, swearing, some not-so-innocent thoughts... what else? I don’t own the gifs. Credits to their original owners. Also to J.K Rowling, as always.   Requests are open!]

Part I

Part II

Part III

 I woke up to the sound of muffled voices. My head was flooding with everything I said last night. Mentally, I slapped myself.   “Well, yes. It would be easier if she didn’t remember last night”. That was Sirius. My heart dropped to my stomach. What did I expect? Silly girl. You were not good enough.   “Because you can’t face her or because you don’t actually like her?” Remus asked him. No, dear God… Don’t answer that. Please, please, please… just don’t- “I don’t like her”. How is it that emptiness can feel so heavy? I stood up, made a beeline to the bathroom, locked myself in there, making extra noise just to- I guess it didn’t matter, right? I took one look at my reflection. Of course, you moron. How could he like you? Maybe I was just too fucking complicated for anyone to actually like me.   “Silly girl! Look at yourself. It’s pitiful actually. You don’t deserve to be a Trueblood. Just look at you” Astrid said to my mind. My dear old mother. The irony was that she was right. For once in her life, she was absolutely right. I never had him. But he had me. He had all of me. You’re not even mine, but you’re already breaking my heart.   “I am okay. I have to look just fine” I whispered to myself while doing my morning routine like it was any other day. In fact, I was pretty sure, it wasn’t a day at all. Nobody really cared anyways. If it was convincing enough, they’ll buy it. Come on, put on your doll-face.   When I walked back into the room, my assumptions were proven wrong. And right. It was noon.   “Ron is a Perfect! I can’t believe it! A perfect! That’s everyone in the family!” Molly was practically screaming. Who would have thought? “What are Fred and I, next-door neighbors?” said George indignantly. “Oh, could someone go and get Rose? Lunch is almost ready”, she continued without paying any attention to George’s sarcasm.  How on earth do I act normal? WHAT? Before I could even manage to think, the door slowly opened to reveal a gloomy looking Fred.   “Oh, you’re up. Lunch is ready. Oh… and Ron is a perfect but I’m sure that mom’s voice was clear enough” he said fuming. I tried-and failed-not to laugh. Thankfully, I kept it to the minimum. He looked at me puzzled. “If it’s any consolation, I was never a perfect” I said, sending him a smile. He loosened up and came to sit next to me. Great. “To be completely honest, I had failed potions about six times and divination-if it is even possible- nine” I stated in a matter-of-factly tone. Fred gave me a shocked look. “You are kidding me, right? You were a Ravenclaw!” he exclaimed like stating my house could automatically answer everything. “Um, no. Don’t stereotype people!” I said while I hit his arm playfully. He mocked me by pretending to be hurt. “You hurt me Rosie” he said and touched his chest. I burst out laughing. “Your heart is on the other side” I said in between the laughs. Suddenly, everything became quiet. “Rose, can I tell you something?”. His normally playful tone was nowhere to be found. “Of course Freddie”. What could have him so wrapped up? “Ikindahaveacrushonyouandlikeyoulikealot” he rambled. Wait. What? WHAT? What the hell was happening? I had no idea how I looked but he started looking paler and paler by the second. “Um-never… could you-um, forget I even said anything” he mumbled while standing up abruptly and making his way to the half open door.   “Wait”. What was I doing?  He paused but didn’t turn around.

“Fred, I-just turn around. Please”. My mind was screaming at me, cursing me with all its might. Fred, however, did turn. “Listen, Rose. I really like you. A lot. A whole bunch of a lot. And you know, I just thought, that maybe… just maybe, you would- Fuck, who am I even kidding…” he trailed off. What the actual fuck was wrong with the universe? Like, are you on some kind of a drug universe? He looked down at the floor, but not before I recognized the familiar blush making its way to his cheeks. It was adorable. I walked over and stood directly in front of him. With a gentle grip, I raised his head just to be shocked by his eyes. When did he become a man? “Don’t” he almost whispered. Oh my Merlin. Someone, please, murder me. Instantly. “Don’t what?” I asked even more confused. Why are men so stupid? “Fuck it”. Well, that didn’t asn-   He kissed me. Crap, crap, crap, crap. He had cupped my face and placed his warm lips on mine, not so gently. I was way too shocked to actually react. However, I did notice something. There was no spark. There was nothing, really. That’s how I noticed.   “Um, not to interrupt or anything, but lunch is ready” a stern voice washed my thoughts away. Fred backed off, thankfully with the same realization in his eyes. I took one look at the intruder and I wanted to yell at him that it wasn’t what it seemed to be. But then I remember. He didn’t care about me. “We’ll be there” Fred answered. I was in no condition to speak. Sirius left with a sour expression. Fuck you.     After a while, which seemed like forever, Fred started to talk. “Um, that wasn’t what I expected”. Excuse you, mister. “Beg your pardon?” I asked sarcastically. “No, no, no! It was amazing-no, I mean your lips are-you know… something wasn’t there” he rambled away. He wasn’t good with words. “So, maybe you don’t like me…maybe, you know, you liked the idea of me?” I suggested. Or he was just hormonal. Or both. “Well, yes. You are hot and beautiful inside out, that’s obvious. But, I mean, if it was, for lack of a better word, real, you know…it would be a spark, right? Like the one that started to burn in your eyes the moment Sirius walked in” he said knowingly. I could see in his eyes that he had noticed everything and he wasn’t going to sell me out. “Friends?” I ask hoping for the best. “You know it, Ro” he said flirtily. I just rolled my eyes. “You know what? You go and eat. I’ll just sleep through the day. Wake me up when Molly throughs a party for Ron, okay?”.

Sobs were echoing. Someone was crying. Harry and I exchange a quick glance. “Hello?” Harry said. There was no answer but the sobbing continued. We climbed the remaining stairs and opened the drawing-room door. Molly had her wand in her hand, her whole body shaking with sobs. A dead Ron was spread across the floor. Wait. Ron was downstairs — “Mrs. Weasley?” Harry croaked.

“R-r-riddikulus!” Molly sobbed, pointing her shaking wand at Ron’s body, which turned into Bill’s, Artur’s, Fred’s, George’s, Percy’s, Harry’s.   “Molly get away from it” I interrupted standing in front of her and facing the boggart. I heard Remus asking what was happening. But I was too caught up to mind the audience.   In front of me was standing… well, I was. I should have known. I was my biggest fear. “Silly girl! Look at yourself. It’s pitiful actually. You don’t deserve to be a Trueblood. Just look at you. How can you continue living, knowing you would be so much useful dead? But you’re weak. So weak you can’t put an end to that miserable existence you call life. Look at you. Not good enough. Not barely good enough” she told me, looking me dead in the eye. The first lines she said was Astrid. Then it was me. The boggart was using my mind to destroy me. Toy with me. But no.   “Don’t bother. A riddikulus cannot destroy me. I am you. Just better” she warned. I arched my left eyebrow.   “I wasn’t planning on using that” I said with a smile plastered on my lips. The kind of smile that Lucifer had right before he fell. “Incendio”. I didn’t have to yell nor to cry. I just pointed my wand towards her. She was on fire. Literally. And it was liberating seeing myself been burnt alive. Catharsis.   “Reducto” I said flatly and the boggart was no more. I closed my eyes, trying to kill her image in my mind. I wasn’t her.   I hadn’t realized that I had hit the floor until someone had wrapped an arm around my waist, trying to pull me up. If it wasn’t for the electrifying energy I thought it hit me, I might not have guessed who it was. My eyes shot open just to meet his. Stormed gray.   “Are you okay?” he asked worryingly. No. No. I was anything but okay. I was not okay. How could I be? “I-I think so” I shuttered. Good job Rose. He looked concerned. Like fighting a battle. “Do you want me to call Fred?”. Hold it. Hold. It.   “Why on earth would I want you to call Fred?” I asked bewilderedly, my eyebrows furrowed and my heart filled with the slightest of hope. “You kissed?” he asked-stated with an angry expression passing over his face. I smiled. Don’t get your hopes up, Rose. You are going to end up broken. “It’s nothing like that” I simply answered. Okay, let me explain some things. I, Rose Trueblood, want him, Sirius Black. Now. He looked puzzled but the anger wasn’t there anymore. However, something was… His eyes could never lie.   “Could please take me to my room? I can’t stand properly” I said while batting my eyelashes innocently. But, oh, help me, Merlin… my thoughts couldn’t be less innocent. All I could think about was him. His intoxicating scent. His perfectly shaped body. His god-like facial characteristics. People said that he looked gorgeous while he was attending Hogwarts. I couldn’t possibly agree with that statement. How could he ever look more ravishing? He was a little rough around the edges and that was what draw me in, after all. I just couldn’t shake the image that crept into my mind, making me weak at the knees. I would give anything to taste his lips, to leave a trail of kiss along his jawline…to mark his body with purple bruises and love bites, to take-     “Of course”. His voice brought my mind back to reality. And send a wave of heat to my body. His hands never left my waist, while he guided us towards my room. Well, technically it was his since he kind of owned the place. He was silent, which wasn’t exactly helping me… my mind was drifting into very dangerous places. How good would he look in my bed?     Oh, my… No, no, no. This was not happening. Pull yourself together. He didn’t like you. He said so. You were there. What’s wrong with you?!     His hands were traveling a little too south. Not that I was complaining.  I could never explain how much I wanted him. I wanted to tell him that he should be ripping off my clothes…turning me on, just to send me down on my knees. I bit my lip in order NOT to tell him what I wanted. Well, he saw it and arched his eyebrows. We had just walked into the bedroom. He took one look at me while sitting me down. He plopped right beside me.   “Do you remember last night?” he asked… was that hope in his voice? No. Probably not. “Why? Because it would be easier if I didn’t?” I fired back knowing that there was no turning back now. “Wha-what?” he shuttered. I looked him directly in the eyes.     “I heard you. Well, up until you stated very clearly that you don’t like me” I said flatly. I was about to let every single façade drop. I couldn’t lie anymore. I couldn’t walk around pretending I felt nothing towards him, while in all honesty, I was in love with the guy. There. I said it. He looked shocked. It was driving me mad. “Is it bothering you?”. Excuse me? How thick could you get? “No it’s not bothering me” I said. He withdrew his eyes and got up. “It’s killing me” I breathed out quickly so I wouldn’t be able to hold my tongue. He halted. I took a deep breath.   “I don’t know how else to say this, so I’m gonna go right ahead and say it. I thought that you were the very definition of perfection when I first met you. However, as you got closer, I started seeing all those cracks. I saw the way your heart was a collection of pieces that didn’t quite fit together- sort of like a broken vase haphazardly put together. It had empty spaces. It had jagged edges- cutting me open, leaving me bleeding with every touch. No, a touch wasn’t even necessary. Your eyes were all it took for me to be left breathless. But it was beating. Your heart was churning out love and honesty and kindness with its every beat. It was visible in your smile, in your eyes. So perfect, yet melancholic. That’s when I fell in love with you. Not with your perfection but with your imperfections. Not to fill your empty spaces or soften your jagged edges. That would be ironic, since those were the reasons I… I didn’t even realize it, at first. When I did, I was already caught in the middle of it. You are the drug I am addicted to. More than nicotine, more than pills-and trust me, I have tried everything in my power to give you up. I am slowly getting high off of you. The worst part, or rather the best, is that with one more look, you will send me off to an overdose. And I don’t even mind. Just answer me this. How many more faceless strangers do I have to kiss before it’s you? Will it ever be you?”. I took a deep breath. I had just poured my heart out. He hadn’t even turned around.   My very soul broke. I could feel the tears blurring my vision; the painful numbness that comes from that empty feeling… my hands were shaking. My mind was a mess. I clenched my teeth. I wouldn’t cry in front of him. I didn’t want to. But I couldn’t help it.   I was choking on my own breath. God, help me. I thought I could do this. But I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.    I shut my eyes close, letting every single tear fall, staining my cheeks. The pain was so much, I could physically feel it. I knew how it would end. He would walk away, leaving me alone with my mind and my broken soul. He would pretend whenever I’d be around-or worse, ignore me. But really, how could I ever control my emotions? I didn’t mean to love him. But, I do. God, I do. I jumped slightly at the touch. His fingers were caressing my cheeks wiping the tears away-something that only caused more tears to fall.   “You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t Roza” he whispered. Like I had a choice. Like I could ever stay away from you. Stop calling me Roza. I refused to open my eyes. “I am not a good person as you seem to think I am. I run from one extreme to another and I can be selfish and full of doubt. I will drain you of all that is pure, but you will not realize it until I have destroyed you. I cannot let you try to save me because you will end up drowning in the process. I am telling you this because I know you deserve better. It will not last. I will withdraw and you will do anything to make me smile and bring me back because that’s how pure you are. I have nothing special within me. I will use you to fight my way out of darkness over and over again and I will leave you bruised and scared from my desperate grasps. I am not worthy of the battles you will face with the most savage parts of me. I need you more than you need me, how can you not see that? I will drag you down with me and you will drown. And everything will be my fault. I am not strong enough to let go, but you have to be. Be stronger and walk away. Please, delibal”. Delibal. He-he had…   Suddenly, nothing seemed to matter. I opened my bloodshot eyes. I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt with a new kind a determination, I wouldn’t have guessed I had in me. He was taken aback.   “No. You are not doing this to me. Using that poor excuse of a reason to walk away. No. I am not backing away because you are too coward to act according to what you feel and push aside what you think. Because I don’t care. I don’t care if you destroy me. You can’t break what’s already broken. Because I wouldn’t have it any other way. Even if you are successful in drowning me… I’d take it. Anything. I would walk through Hell until forever, just for a moment with you. So, don’t. Don’t tell me to walk away. Because I am not going anywhere”.

I crashed my lips to his.

Part V (smut)

[Delibal= Honey produced from the nectar of pink-colored rhododendron flowers, a toxic plant. Rhododendron flowers contain grayanotoxin, a neurotoxin that is known to cause “hallucinogenic effects” by those who harvest and consume the honey. Low doses of this toxin can cause dizziness. High doses can even be fatal. When consumed, it causes a “burning sensation” in the throat. Also known as ‘mad honey’ or ‘toxic honey’. Highly addictive, yet poisonous.]

[focalwriterworks]

CHRONICLE

Here’s one of those rare moments where if you go into Chronicle blindly or lower your expectations you’ll come out probably shocked at how well the whole damn thing comes off.  From the trailers I expected low budget, P.O.V. camcorder coverage like we get in the Paranormal Activity films.  Which my thinking there instantly is been there, done that.  And like Paranormal Activity there are no stars, outside of Michael Kelley, from The Adjustment Bureau (2011), who plays father to one of our main characters here, and Michael B. Jordan who was a kid star in the Keanu Reeves baseball film Hard Ball (2001), also playing a prominent role as one of the Tuskegee pilots in the WWII film Red Tails.  In Chronicle, the story revolves around teen boys, so right there upon seeing the trailer I know I’m not the demographic the filmmakers are aiming for (that’s not to say I didn’t secretly enjoy The New Guy (2002)).  Not a problem since I’m looking at Chronicle critically, from a broader perspective, not just for my personal entertainment.  But how wrong I was, on all assumptions, solely based on the trailers and yearly timing of its release, and how right Chronicle gets it.

The Story: Chronicle is a blend of movies that use found-footage filmmaking traits, and it’s also a superhero origins film the likes of X-Men (think Magneto and Xavier).  The missing tapes or missing film can movie is now better in and of itself as a genre, after films like The Blair Witch Project (1999) sort of started it, and Paranormal Activity (2007) perfected it, and Chronicle uses it as a way to make the story more realistic, more personal. That’s the kicker.  Three teenage guys, Steve (Michael B. Jordan), Andrew (Dane DeHaan) and Matt (Alex Russell) discover a crater with a giant parasite-like, tentacle covered crystal that upon seeing it (it looks like it has worms crawling on it), getting near to it, the boys develop superhuman abilities of telekinesis and levitation, which slowly but surely escalates to flying and being able to leap tall buildings in a single bound.  But it also causes nose bleeds with every “growth” spurt, every advancement in superhuman ability, and questions arise as to what limitations, successes or horrors these boys will incur, if any.  

The Goods: The found-film phenomenon submerses us into a false perspective.  In Chronicle, no one is necessarily finding the film.  We’re already looking at film that was supposedly left behind from our main characters or has been accumulated from well-documenting, cell phone carrying bystanders or from devices like security cameras that are perpetually capturing images.  We are never looking at events unfolding in real time.  That’s a little bit of make-believe that goes a long way in suggesting these events are real.  Like finding a diary from a person who suffered immeasurable horrors during a specific time in history. The minute the first shot comes up we’re looking at Andrew in a mirror. He’s recording with a consumer grade camcorder while his father demands to enter his room.  Andrew accuses his father of drinking and tells his father he’s recording it all and the drunk father walks away.  

It’s Andrew’s way of empowering himself against such conflict in his life, and thus upon seeing it’s successful results arms himself with camera everywhere he goes and films everything within his so called teenage life.  

This is how the audience becomes a part of the film, how that plane between audience and actors is broken and our world synthesizes with theirs, especially Andrew’s as characters good and bad look into his camera, talking to him, bullying him, making fun of him, telling him how “creepy” his filming is…they too are looking and talking to us.  

Their world is soon not unlike our own, no matter what age we are we acknowledge all of that teen angst and anxiety and interpret it as our own.  This is the greatest part of what makes Chronicle different from any other teen film, or film of what slowly also becomes science fiction.  

Blended genres are probably the closest we’ll get to anything resembling originality or freshness in Hollywood.  And what makes it even better is the almost seamless way Andrew’s fascination with filming all events, and his newfound Jedi ways of the Force (more dark side than light), lends itself to a style of handheld, jib and crane, steadicam and Andrewcam, cell phone, pad and securitycam style of omnipresent camera coverage that reality TV can only dream of.

The Flaws:  We get to know everything about Andrew and the other teens in the film by way of exposition which tells us more than shows us.  Not always the most interesting of ways to develop characters or story.  Matt, Andrew’s cousin and best friend, and Steve, the popular kid running for class president, talk like regular teens and their dialogue parts are strong.  Stronger than the average movie, and so much so we get a greater sense of character development with Matt and Steve.  

Andrew, in contrast, is made to seem weaker, his voice lacking confidence, his character not as developed which is really not a flaw it’s actually pretty well done since for long spurts of the film he’s heard from behind camera more than seen even though his voice is annoying.  Andrew, with his mother dying and his father a drunk who blames Andrew for his wife’s misery, cracks from this type of pressure and the kind of chastising other teens throw his way.  

And Andrew’s voice cracks too about as much as his character with the kind of serious, humorless approach he has toward life.  You can see his unraveling coming from a mile away as he goes Carrie (1976) on our ass, which is fine if it’s just Carrie but it’s also pouty Anakin Skywalker, or really Hayden Christianson from Star Wars: Episode II (2002) and III (2005), Fairuza Balk from the Craft (1996), Peter Sarsgaard from the Green Lantern (2011) and it’s so heavy handed it feels massaged by student hands.  

Essentially Andrew is a teen movie cliché, then a superhero teen cliché.  And suddenly the feelings of insecurity I feel for the casting of DeHaan as Andrew is confirmed in what I feel is an immature and poorly casted role.  Especially when compared to the other actors in Chronicle.  Or when compared to someone like Vincent D’Onofrio’s Private Leonard ‘Gomer Pyle’ Lawrence in Stanley Kubrick’s Full Metal Jacket (1987), or John Travolta’s George Malley in Phenomenon (1996).  Even Sean Patrick Flannery in Powder (1995).

The Call: Before you know it Andrew unravels into an antagonist while his cousin Matt is thrust into the protagonist part.  It’s as good as Greek tragedy at this point, cousin pitted against cousin, for the safety of humans and to stop Andrew from destroying everyone and everything around him due to this anger he has toward life.  Their battle on the streets of Seattle (really it’s Cape Town, South Africa, which also brings to mind the sci-fi P.O.V. of District 9 (2009)…) is better than Star Wars: Episode III’s Anakin and Obi Wan showdown. While Chronicle moves a little slow and rests too often on the redundancy of these teens playing with continuously newfound powers, the film eventually starts to rise in climactic moment after climactic moment better than most films do today into a crescendo that will leave you quite satisfied.  

Chronicle isn’t as polished or filmed to perfection like say a Scorsese or Spielberg film, or better yet a Michael Bay film.  Nor is it anything remotely similar in appearance to the high production value of the Marvel films.  But after seeing Chronicle I’m reminded that it doesn’t matter, and that who gives a crap if it’s not perfect so long as it’s entertaining which also means it must be somewhat refreshing.  If not for content then for form, or vice versa meaning that if we take a premise, plot device or cinematic trait that is familiar and then do something with it that exceeds expectations while still retaining familiarity it’s enough to engross an audience without alienating us or making it too foreign.  What’s important is that there are still filmmakers out there that can surprise us.  

Spend the ten. Chronicle is shockingly worthy of your time, and your dough. Rated PG-13 for intense action and violence, thematic material, some language, sexual content and teen drinking.  Running time is 1 hour and 24 minutes.  Written and directed by Josh Trank.  This is his first feature film.

By Jon Lamoreaux

[zucca101]

Friendship ending

A lot of people have had friends dump them because they either voted for Trump or don’t hate Trump enough.

And when they are forced to see that the friends they try to dump aren’t horrible people, they perform mental gymnastics to convince themselves that their former friends are horrible people.

The following is a long rant from one such friend of mine and my response. If you recognize who it is, I DEMAND you seek no reprisal from them. I am keeping them anonymous to protect their identity for just that reason.

... A leftist, really now. Ahaha, oh wow.

*Link to the post I made about Lincoln being shot by a Leftist*-Z

Yes, noted Confederate sympathizer and anti-abolitionist John Wilkes Booth. A leftist.I was already keeping you at a healthy arm's length while putting up a vague semblance of friendship for the sake of not rocking the boat on that one server we're in, but holy shit have you ever lost your damn marbles. I can't do this, lmaoI mean, you've got an impressive collection of bullshit on that blog of yours all around, but this? chef kissHonestly, on some level, you impress me. How someone can claim to be anti-establishment while sucking up to the establishment every possible way they can, how someone can claim to be "seeking truth" only to disregard all evidence that can't be traced back to some skeezy reactionary Facebook page or another delivered to you through the impermeable little bubble of right-wingers you've created for yourself along with the right wing side of mass media your purportedly loathe so much... tell me, just how much cognitive dissonance do you deal with on a daily basis?How does it feel to claim to be "pro life", or to claim that you care about others only to push for measures to restrict access to healthcare, or to vehemently yell against anything the government could do that would make it easier for people to come out of the vicious spiral of poverty?(edited)How does it feel to constantly pretend to care about minorities, but only ever use us as gotchas to other minorities that you've internally designated as universally bad in spite of any evidence to the contrary - not to mention, without ever listening to us if we tell you you did something wrong, instead cherry picking those of us willing enough to suck up to the establishment to tell you what you want to hear, so you never have to confront the idea you may have done something wrong?(edited)Hell, isn't that what they call "virtue signaling" in your circles?Beyond your dishonesty to others, ask yourself this: are you even honest to yourself? Aren't you robbing yourself of any kind of personal growth by doing all this? Are you really contributing anything positive to this world by constantly spreading unchecked factoids that instantly fall apart the moment you expose them to any actual scientific sources (you know, the ones people in your general political corner like to call "fake news"), or by spreading the idea that people in dire straits should just pull themselves up by their bootstraps?Or for that matter, by resisting any measure of change towards a fairer society and instead vocally gushing about the virtues of a system that, by its very nature, its very definition, its very -essence- is about fucking over who you can, and quietly plugging your ears to anything you hear about the many negative consequences it has for the world, or the people living in it?Come back to me once you've learned how to maintain a shred of integrity, I suppose. Maybe take some time to reflect on what it means to be a good person. I can't be friends with someone to whom I have to explain why they should care about other people.Goodbye.

This is my response:

In 1865 John Wilkes Booth, a Democrat, assassinated Abraham Lincoln, President of the United States.

In 1881 a left wing radical Democrat shot James Garfield, President of the United States who later died from the wound.

In 1963 Lee Harvey Oswald, a radical left wing socialist, assassinated John F. Kennedy, President of the United States.

In 1975 a left wing radical Democrat fired shots at Gerald Ford, President of the United States.

In 1983 John Hinckley, a registered Democrat, shot and wounded Ronald Reagan and paralyzed a member of his cabinet.

... In 1984 James Huberty, a disgruntled Democrat, shot and killed 22 people in a McDonalds restaurant in San Ysidro, CA.

In 1986 Patrick Sherril, a disgruntled Democrat, shot and killed 15 people in an Oklahoma post office.

In 1990 James Pough, a disgruntled Democrat, shot and killed 10 people at a GMAC office.

In 1991 George Hennard, a disgruntled Democrat, shot and killed 23 people in a Lubys cafeteria.

In 1995 James Daniel Simpson, a disgruntled Democrat, shot and killed 5 coworkers in a Texas laboratory.

In 1999 Larry Asbrook, a disgruntled Democrat, shot and killed 8 people at a church service.

In 2001 a left wing radical Democrat fired shots at the White House in a failed attempt to kill George W. Bush, President of the US.

In 2003 Douglas Williams, a disgruntled Democrat, shot and killed 7 people at a Lockheed Martin plant.

In 2007 Seung - Hui Cho, a registered Democrat, shot and killed 32 people in Virginia Tech.

In 2010 Jared Lee Loughner, a mentalliy ill registered Democrat, shot Rep. Gabrielle Giffords and killed 6 others.

In 2011 James Holmes, a registered Democrat, went into a movie theater and shot and killed 12 people.

In 2012 Andrew Engeldinger, a disgruntled Democrat, shot and killed 7 people in Minneapolis.

In 2013 Adam Lanza, a registered Democrat, shot and killed men, women, and children in the Sandy Hook school massacre.

Leftist? Maybe JWB was, maybe he wasn't. But a Democrat, he assuredly was. Perhaps I overreached in saying he was a Leftist, but I should clarify that when I say 'Leftist' I don't mean 'someone on the Left'. I mean someone who believes The Left is the ONLY way. The same way I draw distinction between Muslims and Islamists. Islamists want to push it on others. Muslims are the broadest defition of those who follow Islam.

And what establishment am I sucking up to....? I don't watch Fox with any kind of regularity. I get most of my facts from self-described 'classic liberals' whose hearts are on the Left, but their minds are more centrist. They have intellectual honesty. I listen to Gavin McInnis to blow off steam, Bill Whittle for the Right of Center take on news and Sargon for Left of Center.

I don't care for the mass media because while I suspected that they were liars and obfuscating before, to finally have iron-clad proof of it is extremely liberating.

And I CHALLENGE YOU to show me where I said that women should not have access to healthcare. Or even hinted at it. What, you think because I know Single Payer is garbage that will create a pile of corpses. I'm against healthcare for women? I've even said that my stance on abortions is that it should be between the woman and her doctor, not the woman, the government, the doctor, some pencil pushers and more. Just as my stance on same-sex marriage is that it should be between a couple and the church of their choice, not to make it legally compulsory and simply flip the oppression over rather than making it fair and equal of measure. And where abortions are concerned, the parental rights of the father are nonexistent. Now, in cases such as incest and rape (Which if you look at the stats, represent a small minority of abortions) still strongly urge the mother to consider life, but if she chooses abortion, while I find it extremely distasteful (The child DOES NOT HAVE A SAY IN THIS) I fully understand and sympathize with the decision.

As for helping people out of poverty, you know what's the BEST way out of poverty that ISN'T a government program?

A job. A simple job. And if the government creates conditions that *encourage* job growth, then you accomplish the same end without making people dependent on the governmnet.

That's not to say that there shouldn't be charity for people who TRULY cannot help themselves. That's a given. But when you extend the scope of those within the perview of the government to give money to to include people who CAN help themselves, then you create dependents. And it's not that they're bad or lazy people. They're taking the least complicated route. If you get more money for not working than you do for working, you'll take the one that affords you free time to spend with your family, friends or on your own pursuits.

Constantly pretend to.... universally bad...? WHAT....? Dude, don't even try that one. Blah-blah, anyone Right of Mao is racist, blah. Pardon my French, but go fly a frikken kite. In my tabletop gaming group, my friend Paul, 2nd Generation Japanese immigrant, is the most decent and kind man I've had the pleasure of knowing. He's a good dad to his kids and a good husband to his wife. My freind Zach is from a huge Filipino family and he's the best GM I've ever met, short of my oldest brother. John grew up in a Cadillac before his parents legally became citizens and came up to America from Mexico. These are guys I trust, literally, with my life. And none of us give a crap what the other looks like.

And I admit, for a while I was 100% not on board with Transsexualism. But since then I've come to stand that an adult who has spoken to a therapist and doctor, sorted out their feelings and decided after consideration that they wish to transition is completely fine by me. It doesn't hurt me or anyone else and if they've spoken to a therapist, then they're not setting themselves up for something regrettable. Now, trans-trenders, who want the status of being special and different, but don't want to go through the heartache and effort of making that transition, I call out for their bullshit, because not only are they full of shit, they're robbing REAL transsexuals of their credibility, their agency and their respect. And for some transsexuals to come out and say 'You don't have a right not to have sex with a transsexual', can't you see how that would rub some folk the wrong way?

Don't even try to talk to me about science, friend. I studied biology, agricultural science and psychology and I know a thing or two and when someone obfuscates or has nothing peer-reviewed, then I get suspicious. Again, I'd sorely love for you to point out where I was 'anti-science'.

And if you're suggesting that Socialism is your fluffy 'Fair Society' then I suggest you travel to Venezuala. I have a friend who lives there and the picture he paints is NOT a pretty one. How do you define a 'Fair society'? Because I define it as a society that rewards effort. You do a hard day's work, you make a fair wage and you work your way up the ladder. You can't try to take luck or privilege into account on EITHER Socialism or Capitalism, because there is no way to quantify the variable of luck and when you look at privelege, then it exists in the pipedream of Socialism too, because the people running it will ALWAYS BE BETTER OFF than the people who are not. That's simple human nature. The Great Wheel of Life as the Buddhists describe still exerts its effect on a Socialist state as much as a Capitalist. But unlike Socialism, at least in Capitalism you have, barring disability, the same shot as anyone else does to earn a good living.

I find it laughable that you sit there, where you are, and decry someone you know through occasional chats as either a good person or a not good person based on arbitrary variables.

See, the truth is that life is not as black and white as that. It's an exquisite composition of greys and other colors.

Sometimes life is good, sometimes life is not, but if you are free to self-determination (Something you DO NOT HAVE IN SOCIALISM) then you have a chance to better yourself. You DARE to accuse me of not caring about people out of one side of your mouth, while, with the other, propping up Socialism, which *DOES NOT CARE* about people to the point that a child is worthy of sacrifice due to SIMPLE INCONVENIENCE?! Sorry, but *fuck* that is the very cognative dissonance you accuse me of in plain and flagrant view.

I push myself to be a good person. I don't hurt people, I volunteer, I help the seniors at my church with many needs, I'm there for my friends and family and will drop what I'm doing to help, I treat everyone working retail with respect and actively try to make their day brighter, I don't care what color someone's skin is, I don't care if someone is disabled (My best friend back in Youth Bowling League and a better bowler than I, was a deaf boy named Arron), and I am generally considered to be very 'chill' in person and am so without chemical intervention. Does that make me a good person? I don't rightly know. I just do the best I can with what I've got. And I don't *dare* to assume that I have moral highground unless it's a truly clear-cut case. I've never killed, raped (Even though 3rd Wave Feminism insists that in every man there is a rapist that needs to be taught not to rape_) or stolen anything (Some shoplifting in my youth notwithstanding). In other words, I try to be a decent and polite person and let the world decide if I am or not a good person.

But what boggles my mind is that the line between good person and bad person is tied DIRECTLY to what side of the political spectrum they fall under. That is simplisticly childish. As is the 'Come back to me when you care about people' nonsense.

I will again wait for you to come to your senses and realize that life is not a cartoon with cartoonishly one-note people.

Genuinely warm regards,

-Zucca

[im-just-as-sane-as-luna]

I’ve missed you ~ Fred Weasley x reader

Pairing! Fred Weasley x reader

Word count! 1362

Warnings! Mentions of death

You took a deep breath before walking into the school you used to call home. You hadn't been back since the war and it hurt more than you thought it would. Yet here you were about to start your first year of teaching in the place that had taken him away from you. It was where you lost him and it hurt so much. 

  “Just think of all of the pranks we will be able to do here George, it's massive” You heard a boy exclaim in wonder from behind you. You turned around to be met with flaming red hair, well two sets of flaming red hair… Twins!

You smiled as you remembered the moment you first met him properly. “Fred Weasley” Professor McGonagall called a name up to be sorted and you recognised him to be one of the twins you had seen earlier on.“Gryffindor!” The hat exclaimed, making the large table cheer. You somehow knew that it was a name that you wouldn't be forgetting.

Tears started welling up in your eyes, remembering more and more things by the second.

“Watch where you're going” 11 year old you exclaimed as someone bumped into you, making you drop the books you were holding. “Sorry” The twins answered, keeping on running to wherever they were going you.

You felt a tear roll down your face at the memory, something so simple but so important. That was the first time you interacted with the boys you became so close to.

You decided to make your way to the dungeons, where your classroom was as you were now a potions professor. As you walked down the corridors you remembered more and more.

“Wait up Y/L/N!” You heard someone shout out of breath, recognising the voice as Fred's. “What do you want Weasley?” You answered feigning annoyance, struggling to keep the smile off of your face. You and Fred were just friends but it was clear to everyone that something was going on between you two even though you wouldn't admit it. “I was just wondering if you would maybe like to go on a date with me to Hogsmeade on Saturday?” He smirked, leaning casually against the wall. “Hm I'm not sure Weasley, why would I want to do that?” You answered trying to hide the smile that was slowly growing as you saw Fred's hurt. “Oh you see I just thought… You know” He awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, mumbling7 “You thought what exactly?” You questioned starting to feel bad about your little joke. “Oh nothing, I'll just, I'll just go...” He started walking away when you caught up with, spinning him around and pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.“I'll be waiting for you in the grounds” You said before walking off to your lesson.

You could remember the date as clear as if it happened yesterday.

You waited outside in the cool winter air for Fred. The snow surrounding you made the school look and feel even more magical than it already was. Your hands were freezing despite the mittens you were wearing to match your Y/House/C. You were shivering, when you felt two arms wrap around you, warming you up instantly. “You looked a bit cold there love” He whispered in your ear and smirked. “So what have you planned for us then Mr?” You questioned him as you made your way to Hogsmeade. “Hmm it's a surprise but I can tell you it's none of that Madam Puddifoot's teashop crap!” He replied making you shake your head with a laugh.

You smiled as you thought about that moment and the rest of the morning you spent with him. “So that is two butterbears!” He exclaimed placing the drinks down on the table where you were seated next to the warm fire. You thanked him before picking the drink up savouring the sweet taste. Fred and yourself had spent the morning walking and in and out of shops. You obviously spent most of that time in Zonkos planning out a new prank and now you were here in the Three Broomsticks. Later on Fred took you to look at the shrieking shack, something that you had both seen before but it did not change a thing. The snow flakes were now covering most of his red hair an dhis heeks were rosy. You looked out at the abandoned building watching the white specks fall around you. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Fred looking at you, a small smile covering his face. You turned towards the boy, blushing before asking him what he was doing. He didn't reply but instead cupped your cheeks before placing his lips on yours. The kiss was soft and didn't last as long as either of you would've wanted.

You walked into the potions classroom and took a good look around.   

You felt something hit your head. You looked down to the floor next to your cauldron and picked the paper up. 'Meet me in front of the room of requirement at 9' You turned to Fred and saw the small smirk on his face and nodded.

You left the potions room and started making your way to the staffroom. On your way there you let the tears fall freely, trying to stop the sobs leaving your mouth with your hand but it was no use. By the time you got to your destination, you were a mess. You waited outside the door for a short while trying to calm down but it was no use.   

“Y/N? Are you alright?” You looked up and saw Neville, he had changed so much since you had seen him. 

“I-I-I did-didn't think it-it would be thi-this hard coming b-back” You managed to mutter through your sobs.

“Oh Y/N, of course it's going to be hard coming back to Hogwarts but he wouldn't want you to be like this, Fred would want you to be happy” Neville said, lifting your body up into a standing position.

“You're right” You breathed out in a whisper.

“Come on in, I know that professor McGonagall wanted to see you!”

You wiped your eyes dry before entering the room to be met with the faces of the other professors.

“Oh Y/N it’s so lovely to see you again, it must be hard being back here but I would like you to follow me! I have something to show you!” Professor Mcgonagall smiled in a compassionate way leaving the room.

She lead you up the moving staircases to the Gryffindor common room. 

“Fred we should go to bed now!” You yawned lying on top of him, on a sofa next to the warm roaring fire

“I don’t wanna move, let’s sleep here...” He smiled up at you, stroking your head gently.

And that’s just what you did, you slept in front of the warm fire with Fred, only to be woken up by a smirking George, throwing small bit of paper at your heads.

You knew that you would just have to get used to the memories coming back, if you were going to spend at least a year here.

You didn’t notice that professor Mcgonagall was waiting for you beyond the now opened portrait hole which you climbed through.

And there he was, he was there and you couldn’t believe it! He may have been a ghost but he was still your Freddie, the boy you had missed so much.

“Fred?” Tears welled up in your eyes for what felt like the millionth time that day.

“It’s me Y/N/N, you may not be able to touch me but it’s still me...” He smiled

“I’ll leave you two alone for a while” You heard the headmistress pronounce before leaving the room.

“Why did you do this to yourself Fred, why did you become a ghost?” You asked

“Because I couldn’t leave you! I couldn’t leave you behind on your own, and I needed to see you once again, that’s why I asked professor Mcgonagall to hire you, you always said that this was the job you wanted...” He explained

“I’ve missed you Freddie” 

“I’ve missed you too Y/N/N”

[weasley-imagines]

Bathroom Boy - Fred Weasley Imagine

-Requested- ~ Hello could you do a Fred Weasley x reader or use my name (Jess) where Fred refuses to play pranks on the reader and George catches on to why and pulls pranks on the both of them to get them together lots of fluff please and can the reader (Jess) be in Gryffindor please? Thanks in advance ~ Hey,could you do some Fred x reader,in which he runs into the girl bathroom(could be the prefects bathroom,'cause you know maybe the marauders map told him the password or something)and then he listen to the reader singing in the shower,and he's concentrating so much in the singing that he forgets to leave?i know it may be quite difficult LOVE your blog btw❤️❤️❤️ ~ A/n: Finally posting a story after a long period of time! I'm sorry to every single one of my followers for not posting in while. Hopefully, I'll be able to post another imagine Tuesday just for you guys! I decided to combine these imagines to spice things up like that salt guy from the Internet. Hope you like it. (P.s. I know Adele wasn't a thing back in this time but I love this song so, please excuse me. Also, the reader was singing this song just for Fred.) -Fred Weasley's POV- "I'm bored" "What do you want to do?" I ask my twin brother. It was Christmas break and we stayed here at Hogwarts as our parents went to Romania to visit our brother Charlie. Christmas at Hogwarts is definitely magical yet as the years pass Christmas is the same every year. We were in our dormitory, I looked out our window watching the snow fall onto the grounds of the school. "Let's prank someone!" George says out of nowhere, we really hadn't had the time to prank someone due to exams but since it's break. Why not? "Let's put a box of fever fudge in Filch's office!" "Can't. Mcgonagall caught us last time for that one, she'll know it's us." I remind him. "Hmm... Snape? Puking pastilles?" He suggested. "I don't feel like hiding for my life" "Oo! I know! That girl in our transfiguration class, Katie's partner. I forgot her name." "(Y/n) (Y/l/n)" I said immediately regretting it. "You know her?" "Well, not really. We just have classes together, that's all." "I reckon you're not telling me the truth mate." "I am! I hardly know her." That was a complete lie and George knows it. (Y/n) (Y/l/n) is the most beautifulest girl I've ever laid eyes on. Her laugh and her smile makes me all warm and makes me act like a complete idiot around her. She's kind, loving, smart and I know how cliche I sound but it's true. She always puts everyone else's needs first. She never lets anyone give her crap and she stands up for what she believes in, I remember that one time when Malfoy called Hermione a Mudblood. (Y/n) was so mad, she bewitched him by using the petrificus totalus spell and kicked dirt in his face. I fell for her even more that day but I don't really know if she knows that I exist. Yes, we have classes together but does she know me? We look at each other sometimes, pass smiles, send waves but there's a question that nags me all the time, if I don't find the answer soon, I feel like I'll never find it. Does she like me too? I know that yes could possibly be an impossible answer but what if that slight chance of possibly comes true. "Besides the fact that you're lying to me, we should prank her. She stayed this break. We s-" "No, I'm not going to prank her" I told him. George smirked and pushed himself up off the bed. "What is it that your hiding brother?" His voice laced with the sound of amusement. "Nothing" I say calmly trying to hide the fact that I'm obviously lying. I stand as his smirking figure makes me uncomfortable "Stop it, bloke" "Whether your willing or not, I will find out!" He says as I leave the room, I roll my eyes. "Sure you will!" ~The Next Day~ "Hey mate" The voice of George entering my ears. I was extremely cautious all day yesterday since his little remark. I've kept to myself but right now he seems normal. No smirk, no devilish glint in his eyes. Just a normal George Weasley. "I brought you this butterbeer from Hogsmead, I was just there with Lee" he grinned passing me the cup. "Thanks" I say, I look in the cup as if expecting something to jump out of it. "Well aren't you going to drink it?" I look up at him. "Why should I?" "Because it's your favorite and I got it just for you. Honestly mate, do you think I poisoned it or something?" He was right, I was just overreacting. I took a large gulp from it then I felt this strange feeling overcome me. "How do you feel?" He asks "Unsure." I say without even thinking as if I didn't have any control. "Why?" "Because I know you're up to something" Then I realized what he's done. He put Veritaserum in my butterbeer to make me tell the truth. He was grinning widely, I stood up and ran as far away as I could from him. "Fred wait! I still have questions!" I heard George say but I kept running. I ran to the nearest door but it was locked. The next one locked but the one at the end of the hall was open. I sneak in and close the door quietly but I freeze in place as I hear the water running. I turn around and realize, from all of the surroundings, that I was in the prefects bathroom. I put my hand on the knob and was about to twist it but I heard footsteps. "Fred! Come on! I stole that batch from Snape's cabinets and I don't want to do it again." I walk away from the door silently but from every step I take the more closer and closer the sound of water running gets closer. "Everybody loves the things you do From the way you talk To the way you move Everybody here is watching you 'Cause you feel like home You're like a dream come true" I knew instantly that it was her. Her angelic voice filling the bathroom, I remember her voice because I would often her hear hum or sing before class would start. I get closer to the showers to hear her voice more clearly. "But if by chance you're here alone Can I have a moment Before I go? 'Cause I've been by myself all night long Hoping you're someone I used to know" I stood there listening as if I were in a trance, it was hard to move away. "Let me photograph you in this light In case it is the last time That we might be exactly like we were Before we realized We were sad of getting old It made us restless Oh, I'm so mad I'm getting old It makes me reckless It was just like a movie It was just like song When we were young" The water stopped running and the curtain opened. "Fred!" She screamed holding her towel against her chest. ~(Y/n)'s POV~ "When we were young" I stopped singing as I turned the water knob to stop the water. I grabbed my towel off the railing and wrapped it around my body. I grabbed the curtain and moved it aside. "Fred!" I screamed holding my towel tightly against my chest. "I- I'm sorry." He stuttered "What are you doing in here?" I asked slipping on my slippers. I actually wasn't uncomfortable at all, I trust Fred although I've never really met him fully. He seems nice, I have him for mostly all my classes. "I'm hiding from my brother." He says quickly as if willing. I smile due to him sounding like a child. "I'm sorry if you heard me." I whisper picking up my clothes "I know I'm not very good at singing." "Are you mad? You're amazing" he said, I look at him and I can't help but smile widely. "Really?" I ask. He nods his head rapidly, he seems to be staring at me quite intently. I just realized that we've been having a conversation while I was wearing nothing but a towel making me chuckle to myself that it's actually happening. "What are you looking at?" I joke. "You" "Why?" I can't help but ask quickly without thinking. "Because your beautiful" I smile at him. "Um..." I try to hide the blush that's rushing up to my cheeks. "Can you leave so I can change? It's kinda getting cold in here" I laugh briefly. "Oh, sorry. Sorry. I'll just leave" he said while walking backwards, I wave slightly but laugh as he bumps into the wall. He says bye and then quickly disappears behind the door. I smile to myself as I change into my clothes. Fred is something else and I like that. ~The Next Day~ ~Fred's POV~ "I can't believe you did that to me" I mumbled to George as I played with my porridge. "What? Me?" He acted shocked "I was trying to get the truth but you choose to take the hard way" "I could have told you without you putting Veritaserum in my butterbeer!" "Well, I didn't know that you were going to run into the prefects bathroom with that serum in your system. Well, you told her all that good things that you like about her right?" He said innocently. "Yeah but what if she asked me if I liked her? Then she would probably think that I'm some weirdo listening to her shower." George shrugged his shoulders. "Hey, bathroom boy." I turn my head to the side to see (Y/n) smiling down to me. She sits besides me and begins to eat. George stands up giving me a smirk before actually walking away. "I'm really really sorry about yesterday" "Don't worry about it. At least I got a compliment out of it." "You're a really good singer, you should join Choir" "No, I don't sing well." "Yeah, you do" "How do I know if you aren't lying to me?" "Remember yesterday when I told you that you were a good singer." She nodded "I wasn't lying. My brother gave me Veritaserum" "Is that why you were hiding from your brother?" She smiles. "Yeah but your should join." "I might but I- Ah!" She screamed and I yelled as cold liquid fell on top of us. I open my eyes to see bright red paint all over me and (Y/n). "Oh my god" she said and then out of nowhere she laughed. Glitter gold and black fell to top it off. "George!" I yell. "It wasn't me mate" he said innocently but I knew that he was lying. I was about to kill him but I was distracted by her laugh. It was filled with such joy, it made me start laughing. Soon, after we both got cleaned off we sat in front of the fire in the common room. "When we were in the bathroom and I asked you why you were staring at me... Did you really mean it when you called me beautiful?" She whispered looking at me "Of course I did" but before I knew it she kissed me. I cupped her face and brought her closer. She wrapped her arms around my neck and deepened the kiss. We pulled back after a few seconds when we were out of breath. "I love you" "I love you too, Weasley" ~~Kristian (It's been a while since I've ended an imagine with I love you)