#this is why as a small chested individual george is my girl

[feketeribizli]

redrawing charlies chest for the fifth time and im like still not big enough. never big enough. another cup size and shes gonna start making fun of george like me? i could never be 1.5 kg underweight 😋

clip studio open like this as my sister answers a call with my phone. i wonder how she interpreted all that

[sunrisefairy]

Sketches

Pairing: George Weasley x reader

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: Y/N likes drawing people. More specifically, she likes drawing George Weasley. Which is fine, until she loses her notebook and George is the one who finds it. 

A/N: Okay so because of lockdown and me having legit nothing to do i spent the last 2 days writing this fic for @teawiththeweasleys​ writing challenge and i couldnt wait to share it with you. im lowkey very proud of it so i hope you all like it 

Taglist: @hufflepuff5972 @inglourious-imagines message me if you would like to be added!

Ever since Y/N was a little girl she was always drawing whether it was scribbles of her family, animals, magical creatures or plants, you could always find the girl with a pencil and paper somewhere nearby. For as long as she could remember her home was covered in her drawings, Y/N’s mum and dad would frame and hang up all of their daughters’ drawings all over the walls. They were so proud of Y/N’s creativity and encouraged her to keep creating her art. It had become a tradition that every year for her birthday Y/N would receive a new notebook and pencils form her parents and it was always her most cherished gift.

Over the last few years Y/N has become very intrigued with drawing faces, she loved how she could capture a person’s emotion with just some charcoal and parchment. More recently when Y/N was sketching she’d try to focus on the subtle and small features that make humans unique and beautiful, may it be the way their eyebrows arched in curiosity or the dimples and freckles etched into their skin or small wrinkles that danced near their eyes when they smiled. Y/N loved it all.

Because Y/N was so captivated with how facial features made everyone unique she found herself draw a particular ginger a lot more than anyone else. George Weasley. Everybody at Hogwarts knew George Weasley was the twin to the confident and loud Fred Weasley. And being that they are identical twins they look very similar. Y/N found it fascinating trying to pinpoint their minor physical differences and she had become quite good at it.

Her brown leather notebook, which if it wasn’t in her hand was usually found stuffed in her book bag, was full of sketches of George. It started of gradual, her drawings of the sweet boy. Y/N was usually found sitting on a bench in the courtyard if the weather was nice, drawing anyone she saw nearby and normally it was someone new each time. But when her eyes landed on the loud group of Gryffindor boys, she felt a pull to the tall boy with fiery hair who was standing next to his twin, both taking turns to tell a story which had the rest of the group engrossed. Y/N wanted to challenge herself, it was simple, she wanted to capture the features that made an identical twin unique.

Y/N spent the last few weeks ‘studying’ George in a very non-threatening and not at all creepy way. The pair had a few classes together being in the same year at school but the two hadn’t really spoken much to each other. So, Y/N admired from afar, normally from across the great hall or in class. She quickly learnt that George’s face was longer than his brothers, his eyes were more slanted, and his lips had a curve in them that was more prominent when he smiled, something he does a lot, Y/N observed.

~~~

The weather was particularly nice on this Saturday afternoon, so naturally Y/N found herself on a bench in the courtyard with her pencil tin open and a range of charcoals scattered around her as she doodled in her notebook (the one which wasn’t unofficially dedicated to George).

“Hello there little Gryffindors-” Y/N heard a voice call from nearby, the voice belonging to Fred Weasley. George was standing next to his twin and the duo were chatting to some unsuspecting first years.

“-anyone fancy a nougat? They are delicious” George finished; the twins shared a mischievous glance at each other.

Y/N quickly grabbed her other notebook and some charcoal and began sketching the boy’s face focusing on the way his eyes sparkled when he laughed at the poor Gryffindor who accepted the free candy which turned out to be a nosebleed nougat. Y/N was absorbed in her sketching she didn’t notice her best friend sit next to her, peering over her shoulder.

“Ah, drawing your lover boy again I see” Alicia chuckled as Y/N slammed the book shut.

“He’s not my lover boy, I’ve already told you; I draw him to-”

“-capture the features that make an identical twin unique. Sure, so if I flick through your other notebooks, I’ll find one dedicated to Fred too then?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, “shut up.”

“Come on creeper, we told the others we’d hang out today.” Alicia pulled on Y/N’s hand as she quickly threw her notebooks and pencil tin in her book bag.

“Merlin, hang on! You’re gonna rip my arm out of its socket!” Y/N giggles hoisting her bag strap higher up her shoulder.

The two girls walked off, arms linked and laughing, neither one noticed the lone notebook that was left on the bench.

~~~

George, Fred and Lee were heading towards the great hall after their amusing interaction with a group of first years when the younger twin noticed a brown book perched on a bench. He detoured that way to pick it up, flicking through the pages in hopes he will find who it belongs to so he can return it.

George furrowed his brows as he dove deeper into the book. He expected it to be filled with notes and writing but he was not expecting to see drawings of people; of him and Fred. But as he looked closer, he quickly realised that they weren’t sketches of him and Fred, just himself.

“Oi! What are you doing? We’re gonna be late for dinner” Fred’s voice pulled him back. George shoved the notebook in his pants pocket and hurried after his twin very confused as to why the notebook was filled with drawings of him.

Later that night George found himself sitting on his bed in his dorm room flipping through the notebook. These drawings were incredible, whoever it belonged to had some serious talent but he couldn’t get over why someone had drawn him, let alone multiple drawings. Each sketch was different to the last though, some were of his whole face others just of his eyes or mouth. George was in awe of the skill this person had; they had managed to capture his face perfectly.

Some might view finding a notebook filled of drawings of themselves a little creepy, however George Weasley found it flattering. You see, for his whole life, George has seen himself as the other half of Fred. Most people in their lives couldn’t tell the pair apart and opted to talk to them and refer to them almost as if they were one person as FredandGeorge and not Fred and George. This notebook was proof that someone out there noticed George as a singular person, an individual, which made George’s heart flutter.

~~~

“Oh godric” Y/N mumbles pouring out the contents of her book bag on the table.

“Hey, Y/N relax. I’m sure it will turn up eventually.” Alicia says in attempt to calm her friend down.

Y/N ran her hands through her hair, very stressed. She had been searching for her notebook all morning with no luck worried that the wrong person had found it and would deem her a creepy stalker.

“How can I relax when my notebook-the notebook which is filled with drawings of George Weasley-has gone missing. Oh merlin, whoever has it will most likely recognise the drawings of George and give it to him and he’ll eventually find out that it belongs to me and think I’m a freak” Y/N’s arms are frantically waving around to empathise her point as she paces up and down the room.

Alicia stops in front of her friend, placing her hands on her shoulders, squeezing reassuringly “Y/N breath. You’ve told me a million times that those drawings are just about capturing someone’s facial features, right? It’s not like you have a crush on the guy so it doesn’t matter if anyone thinks that, because it’s not true.”

Y/N’s sketches of George Weasley had started just as Alicia said but it quickly turned into Y/N possessing a small, okay maybe huge crush on the red head and her trying to find any excuse to stare at him and draw. Y/N’s heart hammered in her chest at the thought of George being the one to find her notebook. There was no way George wouldn’t be freaked out and think Y/N had some weird obsession with him.

“Okay so when was the last time you remember having your book?” Alicia questions.

Y/N racks her brain trying to remember, “yesterday afternoon. In the courtyard on that bench, I was drawing him when you came over. I’m sure I put it in my bag but I haven’t seen it since.”

Alicia nodded, the two deciding that was the best place to start.

Y/N practically sprints to the courtyard, luckily there wasn’t many students here, giving it was a Sunday morning and everyone was probably still sleeping. The two girls look around trying to spot the leather book. Y/N sighs in defeat, collapsing onto the bench and groaing into her hands.

“Bloody hell, I can’t believe I lost it. I’m so stupid”

“Err, Y/N” Alicia nudged her friend’s shoulder.

“Geez, thanks Alicia, you’re meant to say ‘No Y/N you’re not stupid’”

Alicia widened her eyes at Y/N before glancing behind her, “look”.

Y/N follows her gaze and freezes. George Weasley was walking towards them, that in itself was strange but it wasn’t until Y/N looked down at George’s hand and noticed the missing notebook.

“Oh no.”

George had figured whoever misplaced the notebook would probably come back to the last place they had it to search for it. He was hoping for that at least. Not only did he want to return the book to its rightful owner, he also wanted to thank them for seeing him, for noticing him.

As George rounded the corner his eyes scanned the courtyard and were met with Alicia Spinnit and Y/N L/N sitting on the same bench he’d found the notebook on, bingo. Judging by Y/N’s wide eyes that were glued to the notebook in his hand and how Alicia gave her a pat on the shoulder before disappearing, George figured the drawings were the work of Y/N. George’s heart sped up with this information. The two of them weren’t close but were friendly having shared some classes together. George had caught himself on more than one occasion glancing at Y/N during lessons and mealtimes, wondering what it would be like to get to know her. Guess now he has a chance.

His feet stopped a few paces in front of the bench as Y/N gawked up at him.

George cleared his throat, “uh I believe this belongs to you?”

Y/N basically snatches the notebook from his fingers, feeling insanely embarrassed and when Y/N is embarrassed, she rambles. “Oh merlin, I’m so sorry! I’m guessing you looked through it, of course you did. I would have too if I stumbled across a stranger’s book. I’m also guessing you realised all the drawings were of you. Look I’m not some stalker, I swear. Like I’m not some girl that has a massive crush on you and decided to fill a notebook with drawings of you… Well I do have a crush on you. But I promise I didn’t mean to be creepy. I just, I like drawing people and you have a nice face.” Y/N chews on her bottom lip, forcing herself to shut up.

George opens his mouth and closes it a few times as he processes the girl’s words. “Wow, um- I want you to know that I don’t think you’re creepy at all. I was actually really flattered looking through your pictures. It’s nice to know someone sees me as me and not as an extension of Fred.”

The two stare at each other for a few moments, neither one knowing what to say.

George moves to sit beside Y/N, close enough that their thighs are touching, “they are really good by the way. The drawings I mean. You’re very talented.”

Y/N blushes at his words, “thank you. I don’t normally share my art, with the exception of my parents and Alicia.”

George places a hand over his heart, “well in that case I feel very honoured.” He runs his fingers through his hair as Y/N giggles before continuing, “I know we aren’t super close and I kind of hate that it’s taken me this long to ask but would you maybe wanna hang out sometime? Like a date.”

Y/N fiddles with the notebook in her lap trying to hide her excitement “for sure, I’d love that.”

George lets out a sigh of relief, “great, well what are you up to right now? Maybe we can hang out and you can draw more pictures of my handsome face.”

Y/N rolls her eyes and playfully shoves at his side “careful, your head might explode with all that ego. But yes I’d love to hang out with you right now.”

“Cool.”

“Cool.”

[forthehpfanboys]

Gold Strings & Red Picks- PT 1

Pair: Ron Weasley x Reader; he/him.

Summary: The Weasley's invented a band! Having a band, means you need a band manager; someone to help find venues, gigs and sponsors. After finding one, Ron seems to be hopeless drawn toward them.

Warnings: flirting, swearing, bickering, sexual tension??, Punk Pining Ron but also Smug Ron, naming a guitar ‘Cherry Popper’, dm me if I missed any.

Notes: I plan on having some chapters kinda spicy. I made an entire gif for this and yes it is Rupert playing 👀 and god is this self indulgent. Hope you guys like it!

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWERE~

-

It was a Friday morning when you quit the Static Dragons and posted the news on every piece of social media you had. It didn’t take long for you to edit your bios to state you were looking for a new band, and it managed to catch someone's eye just as quickly. It was Monday evening when you got a dm on Instagram from a user called ddchrmrs-official. The user basically sent you a paragraph about how he was the lead singer of a band he and his siblings threw together and they were looking for a new manager. You agreed to meet with them and talk about the potential of the band and he agreed, using more than a few explanation marks after his reply. He even sent you a few of their songs once he deemed you worthy enough.

So, you found a dining hall, an equal distance from your house and theirs, and with the lead singer's approval, Fred, you booked it for Tuesday afternoon. Fred even made a post explaining the good news- why he was acting like one of the Weird Sisters followed him back, you weren’t sure. You couldn’t help but be excited too. The songs were good- more punk-rock than you assumed from the band's name. Something about the name Daydream Charmers gave off a softer, boyband type.

The day of the band meeting couldn’t have gone much worse. You missed your morning alarm, you couldn’t find your laptop charger and the clothes you picked out the night before ended up covered in stains from breakfast. GPS even gave you the fastest route and you still managed to be 10 minutes late, but you managed to find the right hall. It was a bit different compared to the pristine image shown on the website.

The roof looked like it was caving under an invisible weight and the actual size of the hall looked like a small barn. The walls were made of red and black bricks, most of which seemed to be chipped, broken or bending, like it was being crushed. The door frame was slanting, the door’s white paint was chipping, the sidewalk was splitting at almost every corner. You were desperately hoping the building was enchanted so it was bigger (and nicer looking) on the inside.

You parked your car on the pebble covered asphalt, right next to an equally old and rusty blue car. You had no idea how four people, a sound system, a bass, an electric guitar and a full drum set fit inside of the small wagon, but figured they managed to spell the inside bigger. You weren’t bothered by it- how could you be? You felt your wand hit your laptop inside the bag as you threw it over your shoulder after climbing out of the car. Shutting the door, you hurried up the broken concrete, shoving your keys in your pocket.

You chewed on your lip, adjusting the collar of your shirt as you approached the door. A smile pulled at your lips at the refreshing sound of genuine laughter and bickering. You had an internal battle of whether you should knock or just barge in. It sounded like they were having their fun and you didn’t want to interrupt anything. Soon enough, the laughter was dying down and someone was strumming a bass quietly, practicing a few chords from one of the songs Fred gave you. You raised a fist to knock on the door and the silence that followed was close to defining. Soft footsteps followed the silence and you swore you could hear soft breathing behind the door before it was yanked open.

“Hey! You made it! We were worried you got lost on your way here.”

You weren’t expecting to be face to chest with an individual. Their band's logo was printed across the front, red letters with a gold outline that clashed drastically with the bright orange fabric of the tight shirt. You tilted your head up, meeting cocoa brown eyes and a crisp white smile. His ginger hair was spread across his shoulders, his ear lobes were pierced with two shiny black flat stud earrings and the little white nostril piercing on the left side of his nose was reflecting the sunlight.

“Fred?” You asked, matching his smile. You could tell he had fun, you could sense it. His arm raised, inadvertently showing off his muscles, and rested against the door frame. 

“The one and only.” He grinned, clearly just joking. Before he could say anything else, he was rudely interrupted by a foreign voice behind him. Fred’s smile dropped into a frown like he was suddenly slapped across the face.

“Is it the pizza guy?” The voice asked from somewhere behind him, excitement clearer than crystal. Fred looked over his shoulder to respond.

“No, Ron. That’s not for another twelve minutes.” He rolled his eyes after looking back at you and letting out a loud sigh. “I’m sorry about him. His appetite is larger than Big Ben and it literally never stops. Anyway, I hope you like pizza! I tried to message you about it.” He pulled his phone out of his front pocket, unlocking it and scrolling through his messages and swiping right on notifications he didn’t care for.

“I was using my phone for GPS. Must’ve missed the messages.” Your hands slid into your front pockets, your weight shifting between your feet as embarrassment began to settle in. Maybe this wasn’t the best first impression. Before you could think about it too long, a low whistle was resonating from beside Fred.

Without warning, Fred was being nudged aside by a slightly shorter ginger, his piercing blue eyes staring into yours. They didn’t stay there very long though. They slowly dragged down your body, taking in your form, and his head tilted in appreciation.

“Oh.. I’m not gonna complain about the pizza when Merlin delivered us a cutie.” He gave you a dizzying side smile. “What’s your name, sweetheart? Surely, it’s something as handsome as you are.” Just as quickly as he appeared, Fred was pushing him back, faking a gag while driving the unnamed individual back with Fred’s hand against his forehead. 

“Ew! Ron, down! Seriously? Keep your yap shut! He’s our new band manager and I’d actually like to keep this one, thank you.” Fred groaned, a sneer pulling at his lips. He blocked the smaller ginger from the door with his body before turning back to you with a sigh. “I’m sorry. He’s usually not like this. Usually he’s moping about his ex-” You could see Ron jumping behind Fred to get another look at you. The reaction had you snorting into your hands.

“Fred. Fred, move, mate. I wanna see ‘im again!” The ginger whined, tugging at his older brother's t-shirt. He was dodging around Fred’s constant moving hands to get one more peek at you.

Fred let out a groan, his head falling backwards in agony before letting out a loud “George, please help!”

“Wait! Wait, wait!” Ron’s voice matched the panicked hand trying to hold onto the door frame before it was hilariously slapped off the wood and was dragged into the mystery hidden behind the lead singer. His begs and pleas began to echo and soften which you thought caused you to giggle a bit. 

“I’m sorry. We’ll put a muzzle on him or something. Come on in, I’ll introduce you to everyone.” Fred shifted out of the door way, allowing you to enter the hall. It was bigger on the inside than the outside, that much had you relieved. Fred shut the door behind you with a satisfying click and let you soak the place in while he sat himself down on a velvet red coach. It was dimly lit, about half the lights were on, and the walls were painted a light tan, which easily could’ve been mistaken for white, if white wasn’t used for the tiling. 

Next to Fred on the couch, was a girl with long, slightly darker, ginger hair. Her hair went well past her shoulders, and a bright orange base sat on top of her crossed legs. She had gone back to laying a few chords once you entered, just relaxing as her two brothers basically wrestled each other.

“Ginny, this is (Y/n).” Fred spoke up, pointing from his sister to you, then back to her. (Y/n), this is the youngest Weasley in the family, Ginevra.” Fred smirked, but it turned into a pained expression when she landed a hard slap to his chest.

“Except if you call me that, I will break your legs. It’s Gin or Ginny, nothing else. It’s nice to finally meet you, (Y/n). Fred hasn’t shut up about you.” She smiled at you, reaching a tattoo covered hand out to shake yours. 

“Really?” You couldn’t help but grin. You shook her hand proudly, knowing it was probably your reputation that kept the oldest Weasley in the band chatting up a storm. “It’s nice to meet you too, Gin.” You gave her a cheeky grin before turning to the other side of the hall, noting another Fred standing in front of Ron, who was sitting in a chair quiet grumpily. 

The double picked up a deep red guitar covered in stickers and shoved it into Ron’s lap, causing the younger to gasp out a wheeze. It was obvious he had chewed Ron out for his behavior, but nevertheless, he gave his unplugged electric guitar a few strums, which seemed to satisfy Fred 2 because soon enough he was storming back to the couch, shaking his head the entire walk there.

He sat himself down on the arm of the couch, right next to his doppelganger. His arms crossed back over his chest once again. Fred 2 had the same length hair, different piercings though. He only had one set of black earrings, but had an industrial across his left ear. He had a straight line of freckles across his cheek bones and right across his nose. The spots went down his neck and across his forehead. 

“He’s bloody useless.” He grumbled out, his snake bite moving to the right as his tongue ran across it. “Oh, hi!” Fred 2 scooted over to the edge of the arm rest, reaching his hand out to shake yours. “You must be the band manager! I’m George, Fred’s twin bro-”

“Younger twin. I’m the oldest.” Fred interrupted, smirking again as he pointed a thumb to himself. His smirk dropped when he was smacked in the chest again- by both George and Ginny. 

“I’m his twin brother. Ignore him, he has a God complex.” George rolled his eyes, smiling at you while he shook your hand. He pulled his hand away before scooting back to rest his back against the back of the couch. You could tell he wasn’t comfortable, but  he seemed dedicated to the spot. “I’m sorry you had to meet Ron the way you did. Usually he’s tamer than that.”

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh, your gaze turned down to your shoes. Your cheeks were beginning to heat up as his flirting rebounded through your head again.

“Nah, he wasn’t that bad.”

“I wasn’t?” Ron’s sudden voice behind you had nearly jumped out of your skin. You spun around, your backpack strings nearly catching on one of Ginny’s bass strings. You swallowed down a squeak. “Georgie was trying to convince me I was being inconsiderate and rude and that mum would smack me if she saw.” He was still holding the guitar by the neck, and that was when you noticed the bright gold strings with a red pick trapped between them.

“Well, it’s not like you were asking about my shoe size… “ Your eyes landed on the hands holding the black neck of the instrument and you couldn’t help but gawk at them. Rings covered his finger knuckles, veins popped out from beneath his skin. “Wow.” You didn’t mean to verbally gawk over the hands, so you had to force your gaze down to the instrument and ignore the urge to stare at the pale, freckle covered skin that was making your mouth dry. 

You shook your head, looking at the shiny strings. You had you stop yourself from reaching out and caressing the polished neck, the textures strings and hidden pick. It was clearly loved and carefully taken care of.

“Beauty, isn't she?” Ron grinned, showing off the red body drowning in decals- most of which were bright orange Quidditch themed or terrible chess puns. You almost forgot to check if they were a muggle band, but this told you enough. “My best friend got it for me, he’s a blessing. Mum didn’t approve, of course, said we all had better purposes, but dad said rock on.” 

“She really is. I’m guessing you named her?” The second the question fell from your lips, the three sharing a spot on the couch groaned in agony, but Ron was grinning in pride.

“Of course I have! Her name is Cherry Popper and she’s the love of my life. Unless,” Ron was taking a step closer to you, a twinkle in his eyes as he continued speaking, “you plan on cha-” His flirting was cut off suddenly.

“And that’s enough of that! Please sit down and, for the love of Merlin’s beard, rename the damn thing!” Ginny cried out, almost knocking her own instrument straight into the tiled floor. She ran a hand through her hair, her free hand holding the bass hard enough to make her knuckles pure white.

“I mean, come on! Name it something classic like ‘Bertha’ or ‘Jasmine’, or, and here’s my personal favorite, don’t name it at all!” Fred waved his hands while he spoke, counting the names on his fingers before doing jazz hands at ‘don’t name it at all’.

“Fred, that’s hypocritical. You named your mic.” George spoke up, pulling two white marble drumsticks from his jeans pockets and began to spin one between his fingers. 

“That was a joke.” Fred stuck his tongue out at his twin. “At least I don’t do it seriously. And leave Echo out of this.” Fred ripped the non spinning drumstick from George’s hand, holding it out of his twins reach.

“Shut up and give me Crystal back!”

“No, if you wanna talk about terrible names, we can talk about the band's name! Merlin, Fred, were you sky high when you made it?” Ron shot back, his arms crossing over his chest, one still holding the guitar.

Knowing this kind of fight could go for a good while, you slipped past him, patting Ron on the shoulder while you walked past while a pained gasp rented the silence that flooded the hall. You set your backpack on the white table, opening the zipper and pulling out your laptop. You sat down, pulling the laptop onto your lap before opening the notepad application.

“I made the name! And dammit, I think it was clever! It even has a unique backstory! At our school, we had a um- small business and it was quite successful. By ‘we’, I mean George and I and by successful, I mean we run an online joke shop. I thought it fit the shop pretty well.” Fred held a look of pride- a smirk was, once again, drawn across his lips as his eyes twinkled.

“Mate, it’s horrible.” Ginny spoke up, not even bothering to throw the truth as a curve-ball causing two of her older brothers to nod in agreement. She copied Fred’s movement by yanking the drumstick from his hand, but handed it to George, smiling at him. 

“Why couldn’t it have been something cool? You named your shop something cool. Why’d you give the band something’ shitty?” Ron rolled his eyes, leaning his back against the door, the guitar balancing on his sneakers and leaning against his ripped jean covered legs. His attention didn’t stay with his siblings for long. Soon it was shifting over to you, like he was naturally drawn toward you. He grinned at you, sticking his tongue out. The little gold ball stamped into the middle of his tongue had your full attention.

You swallowed thickly. The ball and his guitar strings were the exact same color and reflected the same light. You felt butterflies fill your stomach from the simple action and noticed, almost suddenly, the ginger was actually quite attractive and funny. You sucked on your tongue, hoping the blush across your cheeks didn’t give too much away. Ron looked back at his brothers, his side grin screaming he basically saw your body temperature rise.

“I was led to believe you all loved the name, but no! I’m starting to think you guys are just trying to embarrass me in front of the (Y/n), but since you think it’s so easy, come up with a new one.” Fred cried out, crossing his arms over the printed long sleeve t-shirt, and was pouting like a child now, sinking lower into the couch.

“It makes us sound like a cheesy boy-band going after 12 year olds.” Ginny scoffed, propping her bass up against the couch. She looked over at her slightly older brother, nodding her head in Fred’s direction.

“It does. We could’ve been Fire Wicks.” Ron pointed at Ginny and the teaming up began. “Or like Solar Skips.”

“Or The Red Bloods.” Gin nodded, pointing back at Ron while her other hand pulled out her phone. The game was ‘Who-Cares-If-It’s-Bad-Let’s-Prove-Fred-Wrong’ and you could tell it was for shits and giggles. You were going to pitch in an idea, but someone beat you to it.

“Or FireBolt Bitters.” Spoke up George, who was now gazing up at the ceiling, shaking his head in mock shame, but you could see the edges of his smile growing at the corners.

“Ooh, I love that one!” Ron leaned over, stretching his arm as far as it could to give  George a high five, before turning to look at you. He grinned at your confused expression. “Are you writing these down?” He pointed at your computer before giving you a wink. The butterflies came back, doubled in strength, and you couldn’t help but laugh. You shook your head no, laughing louder when he waved his hands in a panicked manner. “Write them down, mate!”

You rolled your eyes, typing random shit down just to please the younger one. Your eyes trailed across the dumplings, noting three quarters of them were smiling. Fred’s crabby expression made it was clear he didn’t get picked on very often.

“Charlie texted saying ‘The Copper Horntails’ would’ve been better.” Ginny said, looking up from her phone. She dropped the phone onto her lap, wincing a tad when the device collided with the instrument on her lap. She quickly forgot the pain and leaned back, enjoying her brother's pain.

“You asked Charlie?!” Fred squealed loudly, his hands holding his head. Right beside Fred, George had begun to tap his sticks together, improvising a beat to go with the arguing.

“You know what? That’s a great idea! Let’s ask Percy next-” yelled Ron over Ginny’s laughter and Fred’s agonizing scream. His smirk only grew when Fred tossed his head back. 

“Ok, damn! I get it! But I already made t-shirts so deal with it.”

“Fred, we have magic. We can always change the print.” George piped up, tapping the white wooden sticks against his thighs in some random pattern, his head nodding to a beat. He shrugged his shoulders, not focusing on his words all that much,

“George!” This time it was Fred’s turn to smack George in his chest. He glared at him before leaning over to whisper in his twin's ear. It was something you couldn’t make out, but you figured they were debating over your status. You rolled your eyes, reaching behind you.

With a clear of your throat, you gained their attention before pulling out your wand from your backpack. While waving it, you locked eyes with Ron, playfully chewing on your lip to try to hide your smile.

“But-” Fred scrambled to grab his phone. You knew he was going to pull up one of your profiles to show none of them mentioned magic or wizarding or anything.

“The quidditch stickers were a dead give away.” You pointed to Ron’s guitar with the tip of your wand before putting it back in your bag. “That, and the tiny blue car that somehow carried four band members, and all of their equipment even though, that should’ve been impossible. I do enjoy Firebolt Bitters, though.”

Your own smile grew when the siblings broke out into loud snorts and sniggers, save for Fred’s. Ron walked over to you, and you were sure his cheeks were hurting from how hard he was smiling. He laid his arm across your shoulders, pulling you into his side as he faced his band members.

“I like this one.”

A smile stretches across your face as your cheeks get warmer. Out of everything to come out of today, this was something even the strongest and most willed seer’s couldn’t have predicted. It wasn’t even half past noon and you’d already started to develop a crush on a punk guitarist who shares a band with his siblings. You were clueless on how you were going to do your managing and keep it strictly platonic when he grinned at you like you were everything he wanted.

[ffangirlingsince2001]

The Great Upheaval of Percy Weasley: Black Lingerie

Percy Weasley x OC

Summary: Accidental insults lead to study sessions and answered questions

Warnings: angst, some public making out (still a bit tame, but don’t you worry ;) )

MASTERLIST

black lingerie -n- you said you matched it to the color of your heart but as I undressed your soul I knew you had lied

***

“We’re going to get right into it,” Lupin announced as he passed back the pop quizzes from his first class. Percy glanced down at the paper, almost perfect marks. More surprising, was at the top of his paper, beside his name was Wilton. He looked around in panic.

Had he written that?

Was he already blowing their cover?

“Some of you may have already noticed, but there is a name beside your own. That individual scored the closest to you on the pop quiz, and consequently will be your dueling partner for the rest of the year. Now there will be no need to change seats,” he added as students began groaning about their partners. He wanted to look back and see Elle’s reaction, but he wasn’t sure he really wanted to know.

He had always been a little hesitant of the girl. She had ‘bad news’ written across her forehead in the same thick liner he had never seen her without. And there were of course the rumors he tried not to put much stock in. Somehow, now that he knew her, she was more intimidating than before, and smarter, and more of an enigma.

Funny how that works out, isn’t it? He knew that while she looked like Halloween, she tasted like May Day. He knew what her skirt felt like in his hands, and he knew that the space between her thighs were warmer than any sweater. He knew how she kissed, and yet he didn’t really know anything about her.

“Hey, head boy,” she said, startling him out of his thoughts. He turned to find her standing behind him, arms crossed with an amused expression, “Are we going to practice or are you going to keep staring at your test.”

“Practice?”

“Nonverbal spells. Weren’t you paying attention?”

“I guess not,” he muttered, and she rolled her eyes before beckoning him to their corner. “I didn’t know you were second in the class, congratulations,” he offered as he followed her. He didn’t know why he had said anything about the grade, it was without tact, but he certainly hadn’t expected her to laugh coldly. A shiver ran down his spine while he placed himself the correct number of paces away, pulling himself together as he tried to shake out the distraction. By the time he was ready, she was already pointing her white, slender wand in his direction. She looked nonchalant and unprepared, but he could tell from the tightness in her wrist she would begin as soon as he did.

He flicked his wand, aiming to disarm her, but she blocked it with ease. He went again, determined to keep her on the defense. They were entirely silent as she gracefully defended every attack he had to offer.

Then he switched from simple disarming to jinxes.

She didn’t miss a beat. Her defensive charms grew stronger until not only were they protecting her but pushing him backwards. They stepped into another group’s area, but it didn’t really matter, their silent lightshow had already captured the rest of the class’s attention. Percy even caught sight of Lupin watching them from where he had been helping another group. His back hit a desk as she advanced, something dangerous in her eyes. Using his wand, he whisked it towards her in a desperate attempt to slow her, but she hopped onto the desks surface. She stared down at him, looking like pure power. She threw her first jinx, and then another, and another, almost quicker than he was able to throw up shield charms.

Sweat dripped down his forehead, stinging his eyes, but she didn’t look like she was tired at all. She looked like she had just entered the ring and was prepared to destroy whoever tried to face her.

That just so happened to be Percy.

He could feel the spells getting more dangerous, pushing against every counter curse and defense with no remorse. He stumbled over a chair and hit the ground. Quiet, cool, calculation turned to a smile as she hopped down from the desk, wand still raised. His wand had fallen out of his hand and whatever spell she decided to cast was going to be the end of the duel. She raised it and he scrambled for his wand in a last-ditch effort to keep it going, but a shield formed between them before either could make a move.

“That class, was an excellent demonstration of dueling,” Lupin said, clapping as he stepped forward. He spoke quietly to Elle, but from where Percy lay, he couldn’t hear, he could only see the angry look Elle’s face soften before seizing up again. She opened her mouth the argue, but Lupin must have said something to keep her quiet, because she instantly shoved past him and around the shield charm.

Lupin was chuckling as he helped Percy from the ground, offering him a ‘good job’ before dismissing the class. Percy turned to look for Elle, but she was already there, shoving a piece of parchment into his chest.

“I’m number fucking one,” she snapped before marching away, Dinah doing her best to keep her stride. Percy pulled the parchment from his chest and glanced at her test, a perfect score. His stomach dropped at the sudden explanation. He had become the pompous ass she knew him for by simply assuming she was beneath him. She had certainly proven him wrong, and now he was going to be lucky if she bothered to ever look at him again. As he packed away the books that had been strewn across the floor during their duel, promising himself he would apologize the moment he got a chance.

Which he hoped would be Transfigurations.

He slid into his seat at the front of the classroom and watched as Elle and Dinah whispered in the back of the classroom, the poor lad who had taken Elle’s seat dripping with boredom.

“Ms. Wilton, take your seat,” Professor McGonagall called as she entered the classroom. The girls laughed for a few moments, before Elle slid off the desk and practically swanned to her seat.

“Elle,” he whispered but she ignored him, not that he blamed her. She took her notes and ignored every possible thing he did to capture her attention. When class ended, she jumped up as quickly as she could manage. All he could do was run after her.

“Elle, Elle,” he called down the corridor after the pair. Suddenly, Dinah whirled around while Elle continued to look away.

“Are you looking to get your ass kicked again, because I promise I won’t be as nice as my friend,” Dinah snapped, drawing her wand. The hallway around them seemed to freeze, almost every pair of eyes seemed to stare at the badge shining brightly on his chest. Even Dinah seemed to flicker as she remembered who she was speaking to, but it only lasted a moment before she inched closer, sticking the tip of her wand against the gold.

“I’m sorry, Elle,” he announced, doing his best to ignore Dinah’s glare, “It was a stupid arrogant thing to say, and I’m sorry.” Much to his relief, she turned around, lowering Dinah’s arm as she did so.

“I’ll meet you in Herbology.”

“Elle-.”

“Do you not think I can handle a Weasley?” she snapped. Had it been any other time, Percy would have felt indignant, but he was going to take every sort of verbal abuse she had to offer if it meant she was going to forgive him. Dinah glared at him one more time before turning on her five-inch heels and marching away. “And the rest of you, get to class before the Head boy has to take house points.”

No one moved, points and orders meant almost nothing when a fight was about to break out.

“Go,” he yelled into the silent corridor. A few beats passed before begrudging feet shuffled away, leaving them alone in the corridor. “I’m sorry-.”

“I heard.” He shifted nervously, desperately thinking back to everything he knew about her. He had never groveled before, and before that moment he was sure he never would.

“I want you to study for our N.E.W.Ts with me. I only want to study with the best, and that’s clearly you.” He took a small step back as she narrowed her eyes, waiting for the jinx that was sitting on her tongue to lash out.

“Alright, library at six?” He blinked, and then again. He couldn’t believe it; he was still alive, and she had agreed. She waved her hand in front of his face, “Earth to Percy?”

“Yeah, six.”

“Don’t be late,” she ordered before offering him the smallest little grin. It disappeared as quickly as it came, and she whirled away, hurrying off to her next class. He watched the two braids down her back wave him goodbye. Frankly, they were the only thing that stopped him from watching her hips instead.

He shook the image of skirt swishing back and forth, coughing, and checking to make sure that no one had noticed his moment of weakness. When he was satisfied there was no one hiding behind corners, he briskly made his way to the common room. If he was going to keep up with her, he needed to be a little ahead.

The trip, that should have been quick and without interruption, was hijacked by none other than Fred and George. They were rushing around a corner excitedly, but when they saw him their excitement quickly dropped.

“We heard you were getting beat up,” George announced.

“But you seem free of bruises,” Fred finished, both approaching him skeptically, searching for the nonexistent contusions.

“I don’t know who told you that, but I am not getting beat up.”

“So, Dinah Baker didn’t pull her wand on you after Transfiguration?”

“And Elle Wilton didn’t send everyone away so she could absolutely pummel you into the ground?”

“She didn’t send everyone away to pummel me,” Percy snapped and both boys sagged in disappointment.

“That’s too bad. It probably would’ve been the most action you ever got.”

“Yeah, probably the first and last time a girl ever put her hands on you.”

“I’d let Wilton pummel me, she’s a right babe.”

“Very true, Fred, very true.”

“And that rack of hers.”

“I heard Davies ran into her during the rain once, claims he could see right through her shirt.”

“Black lingerie?”

“Black lingerie.”

Percy was fuming. He wanted to interrupt, to punch one of them, but he remained still, doing his best to keep his breathing even. Attacking his brother was not how a head boy should behave, and there was nothing more suspicious than defending a girl he barely talked to in public.

It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that they had piqued his curiosity about the under-workings of Elle Wilton’s wardrobe.

“Last year she patched me up after Quidditch practice, and I swear she was all over me.”

“Are you sure that wasn’t all the painkillers?”

“Hey!”

“Are you two done?” Percy asked as casually as he could manage. They both turned to look at him. It seemed they had forgotten he was even there. “I have things to attend to, and if I catch either of you sneaking into the girl’s dormitory, I will not hesitate to take fifteen points from you both.” The twins rolled their eyes before pushing past him.

He took a deep breath and promised himself not to think about black lingerie.

And it worked too, until six when she arrived in the library, not wearing her uniform. It wasn’t ridiculous, but it certainly wasn’t what he was used to. He should have called her over, raised his hand, anything, but he couldn’t stop staring long enough to control his motor skills.

The flared plaid had been traded for a solid black skirt that was much tighter… and much shorter. The combat boots and fishnets were still present, but they seemed more dangerous than before. The neckline of her top was high, and the sleeves were long, but the red fabric was so tight it didn’t really leave much to the imagination. He shifted beneath the desk as he rose a hand, hoping to catch her attention without drawing too much to himself. Her eyes landed on his and she grinned, pushing towards the table he had chosen.

She sat down, pulling out her books as she went. He tried not to stare, he really did, but could anyone really blame him, when she looked like that, and when he knew that if he asked she was going to let him touch… that.

“You changed,” he blurted, and then prepared himself a Draught of Living Death right there. His big mouth had already gotten him in trouble once today, and here he was blurting out whatever came to mind. She looked up from her bag and smirked.

“It is technically the weekend; you’re not going to take points from me, are you?”

“What? No, I just noticed.”

“Thank you for noticing then.” Somehow, he had survived. “Also, I want to apologize for what happened in Lupin’s class, my temper got ahead of me.”

“It was my fault, I shouldn’t have assumed, and trust me, I won’t underestimate you again. That was excellent magic, I wasn’t kidding when I said I want to learn from the best.”

“Oh,” was all she said, and for a moment he thought she might be blushing, “I hope I live up to your expectations.”

“I’m sure you will.” She was definitely blushing now. “Shall we get into it?” he asked, doing his best to save her and she quickly nodded, burying herself into her charms essay.

They both worked for hours, only speaking to ask questions about something that had been mentioned in class, or an odd concept discussed in the book; and it was enjoyable. Percy had never once considered that one day he would enjoy sitting across a table from Elle Wilton as they studied. He wasn’t even convinced she studied before today, but now she was sitting across from him, a stain on her lip from where she held her quill as she slunk deeper into thought.

Suddenly, she slammed her book shut and stood.

“Want to come to the restricted section?”

“You need a note?”

“I have a permanent note, plus we’re in advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts, that’s automatic admittance.” She slid past Madam Pince, offering her a smug smile to which she responded with a glare. It was clear they were not one another’s biggest fans. She pushed through the gate and began perusing the shelves, clearly looking for something.

“What are you looking for?”

“Unforgivable Curses.” That did not exactly answer his question.

“Any book in particular?”

“No, anything that focuses on their creation will be perfect.”

“What for?”

“Lupin’s essay.”

“What’s your topic?”

“Why Defense Charms are useless against Unforgivable Curses. It has something to do with how they were created, but our book isn’t specific in what manner, so I’m hoping that…” she explained, trailing off as something caught her eye. She took a step back and pressed up on her toes. “Yes, that’s got to be it.” The book she was pointing at was silver, the words “Unforgivable Curses” emblazoned into the side with dark black ink.

It was a few shelves higher than she could reach, but that didn’t stop her from trying, or her skirt from rising up her thighs as she stretched for the desired book. Percy reprimanded his wandering eyes and reached for it over her head. He barely brushed the bottom of the spine but managed to pull it down without too much effort. She turned around, taking the book from his hands, staring up at him as she leaned against the shelf, smirking all the while.

He wasn’t quite sure what she was smirking about until he realized what it would look like if someone turned the corner. His arm was stretched above her, gripping the shelf as he leaned over her, a leg situated between hers. He jumped back and she had the audacity to laugh.

“Don’t act as if we’ve never been in that position before,” she teased as he sputtered with indignation.

“We’re in the library.”

“Yeah, not a church.”

“Anyone could see.”

“It’s the Restricted Section, how many people come in here on a busy day, let alone a Friday?” She was smirking at him again, always smirking when she knew she was about to win. Though, in this case he wasn’t inclined to stop her. She crooked a finger forward and he obeyed, hovering over her once more, leaning down to capture her lips in his. She responded wholeheartedly, wrapping her arms around his neck. His hand slipped to her skirt and he might have let it wander beneath it if Fred and George’s voices didn’t fill his head with the conversation from earlier.

‘Black Lingerie,’ they seemed to repeat, until suddenly he was sure their voices weren’t just in his head. He pulled away, and sure enough just outside the Restricted Section were his two very loud brothers.

“Those idiots again. I already had to fight them off once today. They were convinced I beat you up earlier,” she groaned as she pushed Percy away, fixing her skirt as she marched towards the entrance. He followed her, but she pressed a hand to his chest, stopping him in his tracks. “Just wait here, they’ll be gone before you know it.” He hid in the shadows as she pushed her way back into the main portion of the library.

“Where’s Percy?” one of them, who he could only presume was Fred, yelled over Madam Pince’s insistent hushing. “You’ve killed him, haven’t you?”

“He’s looking for a book, which often happens in a library. Not that either of you would know anything about that.” A beat of silence passed before his brothers burst into laughter.

“And you do? C’mon Wilton we know you’re only here to beat him up in private.” Percy could practically hear Elle’s eyeroll.

“If I go get him, and prove that he’s not dead will you leave?”

“Only if you kiss me too.” Percy was ready to charge out after her now, but from the way the library grew decibels quieter, he had a good feeling that she was going to take care of it. Another beat of silence passed before her voice filled the air. It was low and dangerous, and even Percy was a little worried for his younger brother.

“If you ever insinuate anything like that ever again, I will make sure the next morning you wake up in Timbuktu thinking you’re a French salesman who recently donated his prick to a local charity, do you understand me?” A beat of silence passed. “I can’t hear you.”

“Yes,” his brother whispered and then the atmosphere returned to normal.

“Excellent, now do you still want to see Percy or are you feeling ready to retire for the night?” Scampering footsteps followed her question and before he knew it, she returned to where he had been listening. He blinked at her and she smiled, dragging him further into the dark aisles of the restricted section.

“Where have you been all my life?” he stuttered, and she laughed before pushing him against a shelf and pulling him down to meet her lips.

“Wait, wait,” he gasped pushing her away.

“If you’re really the uncomfortable about the library we can go.”

“No, no that’s not it.”

“Then what is it?” Percy swallowed nervously, but he was sure if he didn’t ask, he was going to keep hearing their voices.

“Do you wear black lingerie?” Thankfully, she didn’t seem at all put out by the question, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to end up as a French salesman.

“Not today, but sometimes, why do you ask?” she laughed.

“No reason,” he replied, swooping down, and kissing her before she had time to ask any more questions. She responded with zealous, and he smirked against her lips. He was sure he had just found another surprise about the enigma he was holding in his arms, a surprise he was excited to witness all on his own.

Taglist: @andromedasstarship​ @danadeacon​

[ickle-ronniekins]

fools in love

request from nonnie!!! “pls could you write a story about fred being real sad bc he hasn’t seen the reader in a long time since she’s a year younger and still in school and he’s super busy with the store and he has these huge plans for them and he’s just having a rough day and then he finally gets to see her after a long time??? thank you!!”

pairing: fred x reader

word count: 1.6k

A/N: a little shorter, but i hope you like what i’ve done with the prompt :D i’m notorious for writing a lot and making stories very, very long but i wanted to try and write something that was only one or two scenes and end it with a big grand gesture so i hope this leaves you all smiling!!

tag list: @mintlibri @seppys-return-to-madness @how-do-life-does @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @semmelsemi @cottageoflove @laneygthememequeen @snakesonaplane-7 @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @bobduncanlover @dreamer821 @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am @wtfweasleyy | message me if you’d like to be added lovelies

“Promise, it’ll go by so quickly, darling! I’ll see you soon.”

Fred felt stupid enough with all of these new customers looking as though they were positively in love with him, as he willingly and very quickly turned each and every one of them down, earning him eye rolls, a bombardment of questions and swift glances at his left ring finger to see if they could get any answers out of him for why he’d been rejecting them, exactly. He didn’t need to be reminded that he’d made a promise he wasn’t able to keep. He didn’t feel much like talking. He didn’t feel much like doing anything at all. He felt positively dreadful.

Surely, it couldn’t have been months since he’d last seen you, could it? But alas, it could. Surviving on letters alone and not much else, you’d planned on visiting him one long weekend at the beginning of your final term at Hogwarts. But when Professor Snape had caught you in the Owlery late one evening after hours, sending yet another letter to Fred, he’d placed you in detention for not only one weekend, but four. A whole bloody month. Hogwarts without Fred was seemingly miserable.

Fred, feeling more on edge than before, had plans for that weekend you’d meant to visit. Not just any plans, like showing you his and George’s new artwork for the shop, their new apartment just above it, their inventions that they’d just designed and were getting ready to market and sell after placing on the last finishing touches. It was the first time he’d be seeing you in months—more like years, it felt like. He’d wanted it to be special.

George dropped a very large box of Extendable Ears on the shop desk, took one out, and held it up to the bare spot where his missing ear should be. He grinned at Fred and said, “What’ve you said, mate? I can’t ear you!” He found himself rather funny, rightfully so, and earned himself a laugh from Fred, who was grateful for the few mere seconds of thoughts not surrounding how much he bloody missed you.

George, before closing up the shop for the evening and heading upstairs to make them both dinner, clapped his brother on the back and told him, “Just a few more weeks, Freddie. Don’t look so glum.”

Fred didn’t sleep that night. Maybe an hour or two. Which didn’t help in the morning when the sunshine brought in more customers than he could’ve imagined; the desolate, colorless street of Diagon Alley was swarmed with people visiting from all over. He barely had any time to collect himself and discuss the day’s endeavors with George—each of them were pulled in separate directions with hungry customers itching to get their hands on any and all Weasley products, even those that hadn’t hit shelves yet. Fred grinned cheekily at his twin from across their very busy store. Suppose his day could be looking up.

A few hours into it, and he reckoned he shouldn’t have spoken so soon. Not only had he nearly fallen off of a ladder reaching for something on the highest shelf (his wand was upstairs in his bedroom; not a great place for it) and caught himself on the front desk at the very last minute, earning a sharp pain in his ankle, he’d also needed to stop a few individuals from sneaking out without paying for their items, only to then be followed around by a girl who wouldn’t leave him alone and a very angry bloke who did nothing but complain and yell about how his pygmy puff wasn’t changing colors throughout the day (it wasn’t supposed too).

When the shop was finally empty and he had a chance to sit and actually feel the pain radiating from his feet up through his legs, he pulled at his hair and yanked off his tie; he was absolutely bloody exhausted and was not at all looking forward to the fact that he and George still needed to restock the shelves before the weekend’s end. Luckily, though, he’d been able to slip away and grab his wand.. should make things a bit easier.

George emerged from the storage closet wearing a very cheeky grin, and it only seemed to deepen when Fred frowned. “What’re you so chipper about?” he asked, unbuttoning his vest and throwing it haphazardly over the countertop.

“Bad day, Freddie?”

“Bloody hell,” Fred replied, letting his head fall into his hands. He frowned again, about to explode, but rethought his choice of words, “Not bad, per se, just—long. But I reckon that comes with the business eh?”

George just smiled as he slowly took some Weather in a Bottle products, Decoy Detonators, Basic Blaze Boxes and began to gingerly place them on some shelves.

“Seriously, mate,” Fred began, peering quizzically at his twin who looked as though he was trying very hard to suppress a big secret, “what’s up with you? Something happen you need to tell me about?”

“No, nothing,” George replied, and a larger grin lifted his cheeks, “I just reckon your day could still turn around, is all.”

Fred scoffed. “Yeah, right. Always have loved that enthusiasm of yours, Georgie.” George shrugged his shoulders, his smile only deepening yet again, when he suggested to Fred to head back to the supply closet to grab more of the newer items to place on display at the front of the store to attract more hungry crowds. Begrudgingly he went, not very keen on the sharp pain in his feet now extending all the way into his back. Merlin, he just wanted to lay down.

He took his wand out of his pocket, ready to Accio the nonsense out of all of these items, when something nearly scared the living daylights right out of him. A yelp escaped his lips. He jumped on the spot, whirled around quickly, and discovered a small light in the corner had been flicked on.

“You know,” you began, and crossed your arms in delight, “you’re quite a sight for sore eyes after a long day.”

A very large grin plastered itself across his face; suddenly, all pain in his body seemed to subside at the sight of you. Butterflies were engulfing him. He was positively bewildered at the sight of you. He felt like a right fool for screaming in his own shop, but couldn’t help but grin like mad. Without even thinking properly, he ran across the crowded space to you, lifted you up off of the table you’d been sitting on and spun you around, encasing you in a bone crushing hug you were bound to feel the effects of later.

“What’re you doing here?” he asked breathlessly as disbelief flooded his body.

You slapped him playfully. “You’re not the only one who can pull off the greatest of surprises, Fred Weasley.” You draped your arms across his shoulders and inched a little closer. He felt his insides twist in the best of ways; were you really here? “Reckon I could give you a run for your money.”

“You mean to tell me you’ve actually escaped the wrath of Severus Snape?”

You rolled your eyes casually. “Thank Merlin for McGonagall. Told me not to worry. Has Snape doing other sorts of business, so I doubt he even noticed. Right load of bollocks that was, wasn’t it?” He laughed haughtily at your jokes and his hands tightened around your abdomen.

“Got to hand it to you—you’ve certainly shocked me, that’s for sure.”

“Color you impressed?” you winked.

Kissing you for the first time in Merlin only knows how long nearly set his soul on fire; the steady pounding of his heart seemed to increase the second your lips touched his, the touch he’d been dying to feel, imagining over and over again in all the time you’d been apart. When you tried to pull away to tease him again, he pulled you back, noting that he wasn’t quite yet finished with you, and you both stayed there, your hands in his bright red hair and his gripping your whole body tightly, for several long minutes, or maybe even days.

“You, my love,” he started, tugging gently on your hair, “have no bloody idea just how much I’ve missed you.”

“Nah, I definitely know,” you replied cheekily, flipping your hair, earning a smirk and a wink from him. Then you softened and said breathlessly, “I’ve missed you, too. School’s just dreadful without you.”

He felt a pang in his chest. It had always been difficult being a year apart, especially now with them owning the shop and you still attending Hogwarts. You’d seen one another nearly every single day for six years, even before you got together. It was strange having that all shift dramatically. “I’ll just have to make it up to you then.”

“Oh yeah? Like how?”

“Got a few surprises up my sleeve.”

“Oh really?” you asked, placing a hand to your hip and grinning like mad. “You didn’t even know I was coming! How could you already have something planned?” You wiggled your eyebrows at him and continued, “Think you’re going to out-surprise me? Think again, Weasley.”

You pressed your lips gently to his again; the feeling of your eyelashes softly brushing his cheeks sent him into a tizzy. He held you delicately in his hands, as if he were afraid you were going to break, or slip right through his fingers. He opened his eyes, just for a moment, to make sure that yours were still closed. When he saw that they were, he closed his again and gently, very gently ran his hand over the very tiny box he had hidden away in his pocket, holding what would seemingly replace the gold band you had on your left ring finger that’d been there since you were little. He felt the edges of the box against his fingers.. the box that had been there ever since he purchased it a few months ago. Another surge of raging fire raced through his bones; he was sure it was from both you running your hands absentmindedly down his chest, and also the thought of what the weekend would bring. Guess his plans hadn’t been ruined after all.

When you parted and you brought your hands to his cheeks, gently running your hands across his stubble, his smile just deepened at the happiness radiating off of you. He could hardly wait to out-surprise you. “We’ll just see about that, darling.”

reblogs & feedback are always appreciated! thanks darlings for always reading and requesting x

[fanfictionaries]

Oh So Many Years: Ch. 16 - Flame Twin

Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fred Weasley

Summary:

What happens when two Weasleys get too involved?

Absolute chaos. 

Warnings: Swearing, Death, Smut/18+ NSFW

Author’s Note:

OKAY! After 14 hours of traveling back home yesterday I fell asleep editing this chapter! So...I mean I do and I don't have any excuse for that. Thank you for your patience!

I am back to updating every week before midnight on Sundays (US MST)!

I hope you have as much fun reading this chapter as I did writing it! And as always, please, please, please feel free to like, comment, and reblog. I LOVE interacting with you all!! 

Masterlist

<<<Chapter 15

   You are the hider

I am the seeker

My twin, I’m in flames

I’m rolling about

  I have a name

You call me by none

My twin, I’m on fire

Come put me out

  George Weasley loved his siblings very much. His eldest brother, Bill, was easily the coolest bloke he knew – somehow being a prefect, Head Boy, and working for Gringotts, without being dull as dishwater. His second eldest brother, Charlie, always knew what to say in a pinch; certainly, the most level-headed person in England, but then he’d have to be to work with dragons for a living. Percy, for all his downfalls, worked harder than anyone he’d ever known and sometimes George secretly wished he had an ounce of his ambition. Ron was always down for a laugh which George liked very much, but he also wasn’t afraid to challenge George more than any of his other siblings. Ginny, his little sister, was unapologetically herself and took zero shite from anyone. She also had a fondness for trouble, in her own special kind of way. But out of all of them, Fred had to be his favourite sibling by far. Sure, he was a bit biased considering Fred was his twin and all, but George reckoned he’d have no trouble disliking Fred if he were any different. While he and Fred were similar in many ways, they were also very distinct. Fred was more outgoing, daring, and had a penchant to take things a bit too far where he was more laid back, erratic, and carefree. George supposed that was because Fred cared more about things than he did. Most people assumed, if they even bothered to assume anything about him and his twin brother’s differences that is, that Fred was the more callous of the two. But where others saw reckless cruelty, George knew it was really the opposite.  

  Fred cared – a lot. Too much, in George’s opinion. He let his emotions get in the way of his thoughts and it often resulted in him taking things too far. He pushed people past their limits when he thought he knew what was best for them. He punished people too harshly when he felt they deserved it. For example, Fred was the first to suggest they find Percy and beat him to a bloody pulp when he’d made their mother cry. Fred didn’t care what the consequences were. No one made their mother cry.

But he also let the poor actions of those he cared about slide too much. Like with Angelina at the moment – there was no way George would ever put up with his girlfriend ignoring him without any proper excuse. But Fred wasn’t George. So, he sat in silent misery, justifying, and making excuses for why his girlfriend wasn’t in the wrong.

  Fred also forgave too easily where it wasn’t deserved. That’s why George knew without a doubt that Fred would be the first to forgive Percy if and when he inevitably apologized, and when Angelina eventually broke his heart, he would probably find some way to make it not her fault.

  All these things George loved about his brother. But it was also all these things that led to the one thing George did not love about Fred. He always had to be a bloody martyr.

  George knew Fred liked Hermione. He had had a subtle inclination that Hermione liked him back. And after yesterday morning’s little show in their bedroom, there was no question the two had chemistry. The way the electricity sparked between them…George was almost convinced they’d have started ripping each other’s clothes off if he hadn’t reminded them he was there. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say they’d already hooked up before, or something like it. But if that had happened Fred surely would have told him.

  In George’s opinion it would be the easiest thing in the world for them to just fess up to each other and finally snog it out. Damn Angelina and damn Ron alike. But that was too easy – no, Fred had to take everyone else’s feelings into account. He couldn’t possibly take what he wanted if it chanced hurting Angelina’s or Ron’s feelings and somehow those factors had made him blind to the way Hermione looked at him. Which only made it worse of course, because he was annoyingly convinced Hermione would never be interested in him. George didn’t know why – he was a handsome chap. But then again, he was a bit biased.

  It didn’t surprise him when Fred wasn’t in their room when he’d finally turned in for the night. He was probably somewhere in the house, sulking like the right stubborn prat he was. It was surprising, however, when he’d woken the next morning and found that Fred had never returned to their room. Where could he possibly be? wondered George, stepping out into the hall. He started with the kitchen. Fred was known to wake up early and enjoy a nice cuppa while he waited for the rest of the house to wake up. But the kitchen was empty – no signs of Fred or morning tea anywhere to be found. Peaking into the nearby dining room, he also saw no Fred in sight. Perhaps the parlour, thought George and he walked up to the second floor. Again, no Fred. He was irritated now. Was this tosser really going to make him search the whole bloody house for him?

  Stomping across the hall, he thrust the door to the library open and paused. He could just make out the top of Fred’s head, his red hair peaking out at the end of the sofa in front of the fire. George crept quietly across the room, expecting to give his brother a bit of a scare. He supposed the only benefit of having to go searching for his brother would be to get a good laugh out of it. But when he got close enough to peer over the top of the sofa, he didn’t find just Fred. No, instead he found Hermione Granger wrapped around his brother like a Grindylow attacking its prey. Even more curious, Fred was very much awake looking down at Hermione like she was a goddess divine sent from the heavens to please him.

  “Well, well, well. What do we have here?” asked George, crossing his arms and grinning widely.  

  Fred’s gaze snapped from the girl sleeping on top of him to George. He looked guilty, splendidly so.

  “It’s not what it looks like,” whispered Fred, giving Hermione a tense glance when she stirred slightly. Fred only relaxed when he was sure Hermione was still asleep. She nuzzled her face further into his chest and her breathing deepened once again.

  George took a step closer, leaning against the back of the sofa and staring down at his brother who was looking especially uncomfortable. “Really? Because it looks like you’re cozied up on the sofa with Hermione,” George whispered back, fighting everything within him that wanted to jump and scream ‘GOTCHA!’.

  “We were only talking. She was knackered. She fell asleep.”

  “And you just decided to be a gentleman and be her mattress for the night?”

  Fred sighed quietly. “I fell asleep too.”

  “Mmm, I’m sure.”

  “Look, there’s no ulterior motive here. I’m going with Angelina.”

  “Sure didn’t look that way when I walked in. Now, correct me if I’m wrong since I’ve never had a girlfriend or anything, but are you allowed to lovingly stroke other girl’s hair when you’re in a relationship?” George tapped a finger to the end of his chin in mock contemplation.

  Fred let out a small groan of frustration, trying his best not to wake Hermione in the current situation. “Alright, fine. You’ve had your fun. You’ve taken the mickey out of me. Happy?”

  “Not necessarily, no,” answered George, not at all amused by Fred’s lack of fight.

  “What do you want from me, mate?” Fred asked in exasperation. He was bordering hysterics and George could almost see a bead of sweat forming at his brow. Good.

  “You know what I want.” George fixed him with a pointed stare. He raised his eyebrows expectantly. Now’s the time Freddie boy, thought George.

  Fred opened his mouth as if to say something in response, but no sound came out and he quickly closed it, scrunching his brow. This process repeated a few times, making Fred look very much like a fish in George’s opinion. It took a while, but George was willing to wait as long as it took for Fred to give him what he wanted. That’s it, that’s a good boy, you can do it, George thought encouragingly in his mind, hoping that Fred could hear his thoughts.

  Finally he answered in a harsh whisper, “Fine! I like her! I’m raving mad about her! I fancy her more than I’ve ever fancied anyone in my life. Are you happy now?”

  “Extremely—” George pushed off the back of the sofa and headed towards the library doors “—see you at breakfast.”

  An hour later George was seated at the kitchen table, sipping on a cup of earl grey, and flipping through the Daily Prophet. Goblin stock options – boring. New cauldron regulations – boring. Which witch and wizard’s fashion were in and out – double boring. A feel-good piece on the Minister – nauseating. He threw the paper down and folded it roughly with a sigh before pulling out his wand and charming the pages to fold themselves into individual little chickens. He didn’t know why he bothered with the paper anymore. It was just like his father said these days, all a load of rubbish.

  The house was mostly awake at this point. George could hear the hustle and bustle of his family combined with the odd Order member. They were always popping in. Sometimes they brought news, sometimes they were simply asking on the whereabouts of other members, and sometimes they simply needed a place to sleep. Despite housing a majority of the Weasley family, Sirius Black, and a full-grown Hippogriff, Grimmauld Place had more than enough room to spare. The kitchen was oddly empty that morning though, not even his mum had come down yet to start on breakfast. George heard the distant shuffle of shoes on hardwood as someone descended the staircase. He sat up a bit straighter hoping it was Fred. They needed to continue their conversation. The fact that Fred had admitted his feelings to George was a good first start; now he just needed to admit those feelings to Hermione.

  However, it wasn’t Fred who rounded the corner and entered the kitchen. Instead it was his little sister Ginny, looking incredibly rumpled and cranky.

  “Orite, Gin?” George asked, eyeing her misbuttoned blouse and wrinkled shorts. Contrary to the last few days, the morning was uncharacteristically warm and when George had looked out the window earlier he saw nothing but bright sunny skies. Perhaps summer had finally come at last.

  “No. It’s going to be such a nice day out and mum’s got us cooped up in this ghastly place! I asked her if we could take the day off and go home to play some quidditch, but she said she found another Doxy nest in one of the fourth floor bedrooms,” whined Ginny, grabbing a loaf of bread from the breadbox on the counter and slicing into it with a sharp knife. “Toast?”

  George nodded, watching the paper chickens on the table chase each other down it’s length.

  “It’s just mental! We’ve always had chores and I’ve never complained…much, but we’ve also always had time for fun things too. But here it’s like every waking moment is devoted to cleaning this trash heap of a house and for what? Sirius doesn’t care, obviously and if Kreacher cared, well there wouldn’t be this mess in the first place!” She held a piece of bread over the flame of the stove, browning the side before turning it over carefully in her hand and toasting the other side.

  “Fuck!” Ginny exclaimed, dropping the toast onto the flame, and sucking on her singed pointer finger. She kept the digit between her lips for a moment before pulling it out of her mouth and inspecting the damage. “You know, this process would go a lot smoother if I had magic.” She shot George a pointed look.

  George rolled his eyes good-humouredly. With a flew flicks of his wand the bread began to balance itself over the stove flame, toasting to a golden brown before depositing itself onto a plate. While the bread toasted Ginny grabbed butter and jam from the fridge and placed it on the table before George.

  “Why don’t you just try out for the quidditch team Gin? You’re well enough at it,” said George, not really wanting to get into the endless number of chores they did daily. While he agreed, he’d also been listening to Ron and Ginny complain for a month now and he was growing tired of it. At a certain point whinging got you nowhere and it was better to shut up and put up.

  “Well enough? I kick yours and Fred’s butt more often then not. I’m bloody fantastic.” Ginny grinned widely, grabbing the now full plate of toast, and walking to the table with it. George grabbed a piece and began to butter it before globbing on an ample amount of raspberry jam. One of the paper chickens pecked at his hand and George broke a piece of his toast off, tossing it to them. The chickens pecked enthusiastically at it and George took a large bite off of the remaining slice. As he chewed, he looked across the table at his sister. She had four slices on her own plate, piled high with butter and jam. The amount was no surprise. Ginny always ate to excess. It was impressive more than anything. He honestly didn’t know where she put it all.

  “I think I’d want to try out for chaser this year. Are there any open chaser positions?” asked Ginny, taking a large bite.

  Fred shook his head. All the chaser positions were full. Ginny frowned.

  “But we need a new keeper. Still haven’t filled the position since Wood left,” George offered kindly.

  Ginny made a face that George didn’t quite understand. There was nothing wrong with keeper. It certainly wasn’t as cool as beater, but it was a respectable position. Perhaps it wasn’t exciting enough for his dear sister. She always did enjoy a bit of thrill, just like him and Fred. Speaking of Fred. His twin entered the kitchen looking wary as he sat down at the table and poured himself a cup of tea. Shortly after Ron and Hermione joined them. The atmosphere around the table was tense. Or at least George thought so. Everyone was too quiet. They chewed too slowly, as if the lot of them had stayed up late the night before drinking deeply from a bottle of Firewhisky.

  “Everyone excited for a day of Doxy wrangling?” George asked cheerily, trying to lift the mood at the table.

  His three companions groaned, their shoulders sagging. Ron, who’d snagged a piece of toast from the pile, dropped his slice onto the table and laid his head in his hands. Honestly, what was everyone’s problem these days? People needed to learn to lighten up, live a little.

  George did not try to lift the mood again. Sometimes it just wasn’t worth trying, especially when Fred wasn’t in the spirit to help him. The largest of the paper chickens hopped across the table and pecked at Ginny’s hand. She gave a little giggle. George smiled. At least his little sister could still be agreeable when she was cranky. Looking to the others at the table, George caught Fred and Hermione sharing a look. To anyone else it might seem innocent enough, but George assessed the situation like a trained auror looking for clues. It was much easier to spot things when you were looking for them. Their smiles were a bit too warm, their glances furtive, and whenever they came close to touching they both stuttered away from each other. The idiots clearly liked each other but didn’t want the other to know. Ridiculous.

  “Could you pass the sugar please, Fred?” Hermione asked politely, pouring herself a cup of tea from the pot in the middle.

  “I’ve got it, ‘Mione!” said Ron enthusiastically. He grabbed the sugar before Fred could reach it and placed it in front of Hermione.

  Fred gawped, looking slightly put out, and sat back heavily in his seat. He crossed his arms, decidedly mopey once again. Great.

  “…thank you Ron.” Hermione swallowed thickly and began to pile sugar into her cup.

  The table fell back into a thick silence. Thankfully, it only lasted for a few moments more as the distant sound of his mother calling them from the parlour on the second floor broke the tension. Ron, Hermione, and Fred seemed to jump from their seats, rocketing towards the door of the kitchen like they’d been waiting at the starting line and his mother’s voice was the signal to run. George and Ginny hung behind, cleaning up the last bits of breakfast before they went to their mother.

  “Merlin and Morgana…could you believe the tension between them? Could cut it with a bloody knife,” said Ginny, leaning against the kitchen counter.

  George paused, the plates in his hand hovering in the air as he went to place them in the sink. “How did you…?”

  “Oh come on George. I mean, it’s pretty obvious they fancy each other. Hermione doesn’t think he does of course. Just wish that brother of ours would finally fess up and tell her. That way we’d finally stop having to watch them make sad puppy eyes at one another.” Ginny laughed, pushing off the counter and heading towards the door out of the kitchen.

  George stared at his little sister in disbelief. He clearly hadn’t been giving the girl enough credit. That or Fred and Hermione’s actions were more obvious than he previously thought. Either way, it was nice to know he wasn’t the only one in the house suffering because of them. He just wished there were a way to force them to—

  “Ginny! Wait!” George reached out and grabbed his sister’s arm. Ginny spun around, giving him a confused looked. A large smile spread across George’s face and he knew he must look like an absolute maniac in that moment, but he’d just come up with a brilliant idea. An absolutely brilliant, devious idea.

  “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” asked Ginny reproachfully.

  “Gin…how would you like to help me with something today?”

  “What? Like one of your pranks?”

  “No, not a prank. More like a…mission. A mission of love you might call it.”

  Ginny’s eyes widened in understanding and her mouth stretched into an equally evil smile.

  “Oh George, I thought you’d never ask.”

    Fred groaned. Just when he thought the day couldn’t get any worse, life found a way to torture him further. It was a hot day. England had finally found its summer heat and soon the temperature rose so high even the strongest cooling charm couldn’t cut the stifling warmth. As a result the lot of them had divested themselves of their layers until they were as stripped as was proper. Fred, George, and Ron were shirtless as they cleaned out the Doxy nests in the upstairs bedroom. Getting rid of the Doxies had been fairly simple, but the compact, intricate nests they’d made in the wardrobes and drapes was another story. It would have taken less time with wands, but Fred and George had made the mistake of launching one too many Doxies at Ron, and their mother had taken their wands as punishment. Ginny, Ron, and Hermione had glared daggers at them as it really was a punishment for all of them. Now they’d all be forced to remove the nests by hand. Sweat rolled down Fred’s chest as he pulled out an old box from the top of the wardrobe to reveal another clump of nests. Damn Doxies.

  Across the room, balancing on a ladder, Hermione prodded at the drapes. Staring at the girl, he thought this must be what they meant when they talked about forbidden fruit. She’d pulled her hair up, twisting it into a knot at the back of her head, but after several hours of work, tendrils had fallen loose, sticking to her damp neck. Her vest top had risen at some point, revealing the creamy skin of her midsection just above a pair of shorts that had to be the tightest things in existence, Fred thought. She hadn’t been wearing them earlier in the day, but after lunch when they’d returned to their work, she’d entered the bedroom and Fred had nearly swallowed his tongue. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say she’d done it on purpose. To torture him. But that wasn’t right. It was foolishly arrogant to assume Hermione wore anything for anyone, especially himself.

  In addition to the true agony that Hermione was causing him physically, George was causing him equal turmoil mentally. No, he hadn’t done or said anything, but that was entirely the point. After catching him and Hermione together that morning and finally getting Fred to admit his feelings for the girl, he expected a bit more from his brother. He was sure his twin would pull him aside to continue their conversation, or at the very least make pointed jokes. But there’d been nothing. In fact, it seemed George was hellbent on acting as if that morning never happened.

  Fred’s thoughts drifted back to earlier in the library. Once George left, he took a few more minutes to bask in the glory of having Hermione in his arms before he woke her. She had been mildly embarrassed when she roused to find herself wrapped so tightly around him. But Fred played it off like it was no big deal. But despite the moment of embarrassment something definitely felt like it had shifted between the two of them. Fred felt a little less on edge around her and she seemed to be more relaxed around him as well. Perhaps realizing that she could be physically close to him without him making a move had her less concerned about being around him again.

  Although Fred figured if Hermione could hear his thoughts at that moment she’d feel anything but an ease. He had to physically bite his tongue when she’d hopped off the ladder and bent over to pick up the duster she’d been using. A tightness formed in the front of his trousers and Fred turned his gaze away, banging his head on one of the open wardrobe doors to. Squeezing his eyes shut tight he thought about boring things like owl post, third year herbology, and potions essays. When that didn’t work he thought of disgusting things like Blast-Ended Skrewts and Hippogriff dung.

  “Hermione, could you give me a hand with this please?” asked Ginny, motioning to the second pair of heavy drapes as she attempted to get behind the tangled mess of them.

  “Yeah, of course.”

  Fred watched as Ginny piled the ends of the drapes into Hermione’s arms. “There’s a nest back here. I think if you lift the drapes high enough, I’ll be able to reach it,” said Ginny, instructing Hermione to lift the drapes higher in her arms.

  There really shouldn’t be anything sexy about cleaning out Doxy nests, thought Fred. But as Hermione raised her arms higher and higher, she revealed more of her sweat-slicked body. The wild-haired girl struggled under the weight of the drapes, now hold them high above her head. Fred supposed if he hadn’t been checking out Hermione in that moment, he wouldn’t have seen the way her arms buckled, dropping some of the drapes and tangling them in her legs. Sprinting across the room, he caught her just as she lost her footing, trying to untangle her legs from the heavy material.

  “Whoa!” Hermione exclaimed, landing hard in Fred’s arms, as the drapes fell back onto Ginny.

  “Hey! Hermione, what gives—oh…you okay?” Ginny had scrambled out of the drapes to see Hermione in Fred’s embrace, looking up at him in surprise. Fred’s mouth went dry as he looked down at the witch in his arms. Her face was delightfully flushed, and he could feel bare skin under his hands. He felt the tightening in his pants return and practically threw Hermione from his hold, stepping away from her.

  “Thanks,” Hermione muttered, looking pointedly down at the ground.

  “Yeah,” coughed Fred.

  He was just about to try and come up with an excuse to flee from the room when his mother entered, looking around the space appraisingly. “I think that’s enough for the day dears. It’s quite hot, why don’t you wrap up and we’ll finish this room tomorrow?”

  “Alright, thanks mum,” said George, wiping his grubby hands on his jeans and walking over to swing an arm around Ginny’s shoulders.

  “Uck! You’re all sweaty George!” cried Ginny, shrugging off George’s arm in disgust.

  George took a moment to assess himself, looking down at his sweaty form. “You’re right Gin. I think I could use a shower actually. What about you lot?”

  A chorus of agreement rang through the room from them all and they exited it, heading down to their rooms and more importantly, the bathrooms.

    Ginny was only slightly disappointed in herself. Her first “mission” with her older brother George and already she was failing at it. She’d never tell him, but she considered his invitation to be quite the honour. Sure, she’d helped Fred and George with some of their little schemes over the years, but never had one of them asked her specifically to help without the other. At first she wondered why Fred wasn’t involved in their plan, but they she realized it might be because Fred didn’t know Ron was desperately in love with Hermione and vice-versa. Perhaps Ron had only told George in confidence and didn’t want Fred knowing too – Fred was the type to tease Ron more than George would about something like that. Finding out that Ginny was clued in was probably a huge relief to George.

  “I’m not really sure how doing this will make them confess their feelings though,” said Ginny, knitting her brow and looking sceptically at her older brother.

  “Trust me, it’ll work. All we need is a bit of sexual tension to break them. Get them hot and bothered enough and they’ll be attacking each other before you know it!”

  She still wasn’t sure if she was 100% sold on the plan, but George knew about these things more than her. It had been her idea to spill pumpkin juice all over Hermione’s clothes after lunch, forcing her to change. She’d subtly offered Hermione a pair of her shorts, her smallest and tightest ones and a when the older girl had asked whether or not she should just wear her vest, Ginny encouraged it. A small part of her felt like it was a bit demeaning to resort to primping Hermione up like a prize fair farm animal for Ron to ogle, but at this point she was desperate to get the two of them to admit their feelings. Her wants in the world were simple. She wanted her siblings to be happy and she wanted her friends to be happy. If she could accomplish those things in one fell swoop then even better.

  When she’d piled the drapes in Hermione’s arms, she fully expected Ron to be the one to catch her. Bloody Fred and his chivalry. He already had a girlfriend, she thought bitterly, why couldn’t he just step aside and let Ron save the day?

  Either way, they were on to part two of their plan and Ginny would not let George down. Her job was to direct Hermione to the right place at the right time. Third floor bathroom at the end of the hall. George would take care of the rest. Easy.

  However, to her dismay, when she’d reached the third floor she saw Ron entering the first bathroom on the right and close the door. Damn him! Where was George? Wasn’t Ron his responsibility? Putting her ear to the bathroom Ron was currently in, she heard the rings of the shower curtain slide against the metal pole and the water turn on. Fine, she could improvise. This was fine. Ginny spun around at the sound of a door opening and closing and saw Hermione exit their bedroom with her towel in hand.

  “Ginny are any of the bathrooms on this floor open?” she asked, wiping a hand across her brow.

  “This one is—” Ginny stepped aside the door “—I started the shower, but mum called me and needs my help. You can take it!”

  “Thanks Ginny!”

  “No problem ‘Mione. What are friends for?”

    Hermione was grateful for Ginny giving up the bathroom. She was in desperate need of a nice long shower. For more than one reason. There was a moment in the fourth-floor bedroom that she thought she was surely going to combust. In what fair and just world should she be forced to stare at a shirtless Frederick Weasley for an extended period of time? It was painful how good he looked. Hermione cursed her inappropriate thoughts. He was a taken man. But then there was the way he’d held her in her sleep – the way he’d gently woken her in the library. She’d been embarrassed at first, but he didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, he almost seemed sad to part, but that was ridiculous. Again, he was a taken man.

  Entering the small bathroom, Hermione scowled slightly at the running water. Really, Ginny should wait until she entered the shower to turn on the water. It was such a waste to keep it running. She placed her towel on one of the hooks on the wall and grabbed the hem of her vest top, sliding it up her torso. The fabric stuck to her skin, damp from the sweat of a hot day and good, hard work. If she’d known she’d be spending a majority of her summer doing exhausting chores, perhaps she would have thought twice about abandoning her parents. But then Hermione’s mind drifted to the thought of her grandparents’ cat-fur covered sofa and dry Madeira cake and suddenly she was sure of her decision once again. She was just bringing the vest top over her head when something very odd happened. The sound of water stopped. Hermione froze, arms raised over her head and top covering her eyes. Turning towards the shower, she pulled her top completely off, freeing her sight just as the shower curtain pulled back revealing a very wet and very naked Ron.

  While in reality it was probably only a few seconds, for Hermione it felt like an eternity that she stood still as stone staring at Ron absolutely starkers. Ron stared back, eyes wide and mouth hung open. How? Why? What? Hermione had so many questions and yet, nothing came out of her mouth. In fact the only thing her mouth could do was open and close like an idiot before she finally let out a high-pitched scream.

  Ron screamed as well, bringing his hands down to cover his more…vulnerable bits. It was a bit late for that thought Hermione but closed her eyes tightly all the same.

  “What are you doing in here?!” she screamed, blindly feeling for the door.

  “What am I doing in here?! What are you doing in here?!” screamed Ron back, the tile squeaking under his wet feet as he exited the tub.

  “Oh my god—” Hermione desperately felt for the door handle, letting out another scream when she felt wet skin “—OH MY GOD!”

  “Bloody hell, Hermione! Get out!” Ron yelled.

  “I’m trying!”

  Finally Hermione’s fingers found the doorknob and she flung herself from the bathroom, running as fast as she could down the hallway.

  “What is it?! What’s going on?! I heard scream—oof!”

  Hermione collided into someone, her frantic fleeing impairing her ability to watch where she was going. Whoever it was, she hit them hard. Hard enough to knock her backwards. Desperately, she reached out to catch herself on instinct, but the only thing her hand found purchase on was the soft fuzzy fabric of a towel that gave easily as she fell backwards. Hermione landed hard on her backside, feeling slightly dazed. Looking down at the towel in her hand, she looked up in mortification. There standing before her, at eye level she might add, was Frederick Weasley’s entirely naked body. She screamed again, covering her eyes quickly this time, a little more prepared and a little more experienced at accidentally seeing naked boys now.

  “Merlin!” Fred cried, yanking the towel from her hands, and most likely covering himself. Hermione didn’t know for certain though as her hands were still tightly glued to her face. She wasn’t risking it anymore. If another Weasley boy were to show up in the hallway naked, she was prepared.

  “Oh my god. I’m so, so sorry!” Hermione cried, attempting to stand without her arms or her sight. She wobbled and bumped a bit, but eventually found her feet.

  “What the hell is going on?!” asked Fred.

  “Hermione I—” she heard Ron’s voice start and then stop suddenly before he let out a confused exclamation. “What’s going on here?!”

  “What’s going on here? What was going on in there?!” Fred asked back, sounding quite angry.

  “Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god,” Hermione chanted in humiliation as she was now blindly trying to find her bedroom door. She needed to get out of there desperately.

  “Bloody hell Hermione. You can open your eyes now,” groaned Ron.

  Hermione shook her head frantically. “Nope! Sorry. I’m not chancing it.”

  “What was she doing in there with you?” Fred questioned indignantly.

  “What was she doing out here with you?” huffed Ron.

  “I heard screaming!”

  “So you decided to come and investigate naked?!”

  “I wasn’t naked! I had a towel, but she pulled it off!”

  “Why would you run out in just a towel?!”

  “Sorry, next time I think there’s an emergency, let me just take my sweet time getting dressed before I come and help,” Fred bit back sarcastically.

  “Boys—” Hermione felt completely lost at this point, walking into a wall, and hitting her head “—ow! Please. Now is really not the time to fight. Can someone please just direct me to my room so I can kill myself?”

  “Stop being so dramatic Hermione,” Ron sighed. She could almost feel his eyes rolling in his head.

  “Yeah, it’s just a bit of skin ‘Mione. No need to be so affected,” said Fred.

  Hermione let out a high-pitched sound of disbelief. “Are you two seriously turning on me now?”

  “Well, you were the one who walked in on my shower,” Ron said sounded very irritated.

  “Yeah, and you pulled down my towel,” added Fred.

  “How in the world is this my fault now?!” cried Hermione, no longer attempting to find her room. Instead, she stood in the hallway, eyes still covered but entirely invested in the argument that was now happening between the three of them.

  It was that moment that they heard the loud and raucous laughter of two people from down the hall. Hermione knew at once who it was. Of course.

  “Ginevra Weasley, I swear to Merlin I will kill you slowly in your sleep for this!” Hermione threatened. “George, I know you were involved in this too! Don’t think for a second you’re in the clear!”

  Ginny and George’s laughter continued, both of them in hysterics at this point.

  “You two?!” cried Ron. “Why?!” He sounded deeply betrayed, as if he expected a lot from the two, but never something as horrible as this.

  “Merlin, this is…this is better than I ever could have hoped,” said George in between laughs.

  “Really George? Really?” asked Fred pointedly.

  “You know George, I was a bit disappointed you failed on your end of the plan, but I think this laugh was worth failing,” Ginny commented, finding her voice through deep breaths.

  “What do you mean?” asked George. “It was you that got it all mixed up!”

  “Me?! What do you—”

  “I can’t believe you two! Actually, George I could expect this from you but Ginny?” Hermione scolded.

  “Oh lighten up Hermione, it was just a bit of fun!” scoffed Ginny.

  “I mean, what was the point of this? Really?” asked Fred, continuing his rant.

  “I’ve been so nice to you lately George. I even did you chores the other day!” said Ron dejectedly.

  “Indecent George and Ginny! Absolutely indecent behaviour!” yelled Hermione.

  “That’s rich coming from someone only in their bra and trousers,” said George.

  Hermione gasped, pulled her hands from her eyes now and covering her upper half. In all the chaos and confusion she’d completely forgotten she was half naked herself.

  All five of them were now talking over each other, everyone yelling at someone different as they argued in the heat of the moment. The noise was beginning the rise in magnitude until the only thing that could be heard was the overwhelming sound of screaming voices.

  “SCUM! MUDBLOODS! BLOOD TRAITORS! IN MY HOUSE?! OUT! OUT! DISGRACESFUL! DIRTY! DIRTY!”

  Their arguing was suddenly drowned out by the horrid sound of Walburga Black’s portrait two floors down. Everyone stopped. Now they’d done it.

  Mrs. Weasley’s shrill and angry voice drifted up the flights of stairs and mixed horribly with the shouting portrait. They heard stomping feat on the wooden stairs and looked at each other in fear.

  “Don’t just stand here like idiots—” said George quickly.

  “—Scatter!” finished Fred.

Chapter 17>>> 

Taglist:

@theworldisugly-22

@aoonai

@sjh-07-10

@is-it-madness

@i-d-e-g-a-f

[anotherhamiltonblog]

The Charity Ball.

George Washington x Reader one shot!

Request from 50 Cute Meets #38: You help a lost child find their parent together.

Thank you for the request! I loved how this worked out.

Word Count: 1.165

AN: most of this, i googled... so if there’s any wrong information. Please tell me. I just wrote this and it’s now almost 3 am.

no warnings, just a cute one shot!

A charity ball in New York City, it was a big deal. Chief Washington from the New York Fire Department and his squad was invited. Firehouse 82 was one of the best working firehouses in New York, never a complaint made.

It was an honor and Y/N, the one in charge of the event, being an event planner. She couldn’t have been in a better mood as the night was going smoothly. The event being for raising money for Mission, The Firefighters Charitable Foundation's or FFCF. A charity to help primary focus is to provide much needed financial assistance to individuals who have been affected by a fire or disaster.

After all the speeches were made, Y/N having had spoken as well thanking everyone and especially the fire department. When it was done, and everyone was socializing. Y/N was walking around with her peach colored sequin mermaid dress that was laced up in the back. Y/N felt beautiful, even with the dress being slightly see-through under her bust. It was her first big event. A family one and one that was going so beautifully. Having raised a lot more than they were even expecting.

As she was about to finally get a drink to relax a little bit since the dinner, awards and speeches were over. Yet, even over the music Y/N heard whimpering. Looking around, Y/N finally saw a small child cowering next to the bar.

“Hey sweetie…” she spoke softly and bent down to talk to the small girl. “What’s your name?”

When the little girl didn’t speak, Y/N frowned. “Good idea, talking to strangers is bad. Right?” she nodded and smiled. “You see this big party? I’m the one who helped make it happen. So, I’m sorta like the boss here.” Y/N smiled when the girl glanced around at the party. “Why don’t you come out and I can help you find your mommy and daddy? Yeah?” she offered and held her perfectly manicured hand out.

It was about a minute or two later when the girl grabbed her hand and the two stood up. Y/N realizing how small the child actually was. She picked her up so they wouldn’t be separated.

“I’m Y/N L/N by the way.” Y/N glanced at the little girl in her arms. “Can you tell me your name?”

But before the girl could answer, a male voice spoke up a few feet ahead of them.

“Angie Hamilton, is that you?”

Looking up when the girl looked at the man with a smile. She reached her arms out to the male and Y/N had no choice but to hand her over. Or else she would have fallen over with the heels she was wearing.

“Uncle George!” she squealed in his arms and Y/N watched with a small smile.

“So, you aren’t the father.” Y/N spoke and crossed her arms over her chest.

“No… no. Her father he works at Firehouse 82 for me as Captain Hamilton of engine 80.” He spoke and nodded.

“Well, Chief Washington. I’m Y/N L/N and it’s a pleasure to meet you… why don’t we get this one to her parents though?” Y/N suggest and laughed as the girl Angie was playing with George’s bow-tie.

“I think that’s a good idea.” He nodded. “Gives me a chance to give him a talking to for not looking after Angie here.”

With a soft laugh, the two started to walk, looking for Captain Alexander Hamilton.

“You did an amazing job tonight by the way.” George spoke up after a minute of silence between the two of them. “Best Charity event I’ve been too… hands down.”

With a blush, Y/N looked to her feet and thanked him. “It’s for a good cause. People seem to forget that just because the fire is put out, doesn’t mean that the damage is covered. A lot of places stayed destroyed cause insurance didn’t cover it. Or homes and apartments and orphanages…” taking a deep breath to calm down, Y/N bite down on her lip. Mumbling a small sorry, she refused to look at George.

“Hey, no need to be sorry. I’m glad your passionate about it. Not many people are. You proved that in your speech earlier. I was listening to each word.” He nudged her arm and Y/N giggled. “Look, the money only really started going up after you spoke. Therefore, we have you to thank for tonight being a success.”

Finding Alexander and his wife. The two arguing about Alexander ‘losing’ his daughter. Y/N raised an eyebrow.

“Hamilton! A word of warning…” George’s voice was sharp and serious, Y/N having to look away as she found it extremely attractive.

“Sir, whatever it is… Jefferson started it!” Alexander said quickly as he sprung around to face his chief.

Biting back a laugh, Y/N had to cover her mouth with her hand. Alexander’s wife being in the same position as her and the two caught each other’s eye before falling into a fir of giggles.

George was smirking and glanced at Angie. “See that? Looks like your daddy is guilty of something.” He spoke to the girl who also giggled. “If I see her or Phillip unattended again… well, you’ll be sorry tomorrow morning.” He gave Alexander a pointed look who nodded quickly and apologized before grabbing Angie.

After saying goodbyes, Y/N turned to George.

“Would you like to grab a drink?” she asked. “I am off the clock; I think I can finally enjoy my night.”

Agreeing, he held his arm out for Y/N to take. As they headed to the bar, each getting a drink. Both the event planner and New York’s Chief of Fire of Firehouse 82 spent the rest of the night at the bar talking.

By the time the night was dying down and mostly everyone had left, George and Y/N walked out of the building. Y/N with George’s coat over her shoulders as the night was cold.

“I would love to see you again…” he said softly and looked down at her.

“I would really like that as well… but I know your schedule must be crazy…” Y/N raised an eyebrow. Catching the hint of sadness behind his chocolate brown eyes. “How about I bring you breakfast tomorrow morning for the station? Luckily, with my job… I can do it anywhere whenever I don’t actually have to meet with my clients and check out locations.”

“I would love that, Y/N…” he agreed.

Calling a cab, George allowed Y/N to take it as another one was coming. Having exchanged numbers, Y/N placed a soft kiss to his cheek.

“I’ll see you in the morning chief.” Y/n said with a wink and got into the car. After the door was closed and she gave the driver her address. The car took off.

George stood there on the sidewalk, just watching the car go. Feeling incredibly content and he couldn’t wait to go into work the next morning.

[yoyoanaria]

Christmas with You

Fred Weasley x Reader

This is based from this request, I really hope you like it and isn’t too long!

MASTERLIST

“Is this a joke?” 

“Isn’t her family Slytherin?” 

“A snake in the Gryffindor house?!” 

“You’re pulling my leg, there’s no way.”

“I hear she’s related to death eaters…” 

You had been sorted into the enemy house, the lion’s den- Gryffindor. You didn’t understand, your mother didn’t care and you were lucky that your father only had mixed feelings… the students, on the other hand, some didn’t talk to you at all, some were absolutely terrible to you.

It had been a few years and some of the other students had still been horrible to you. As you were packing your bag for the holidays, the other girls in your shared room were snickering and pointing in your direction, you just kept your head down.

“Thank goodness for the holidays. I can’t believe we’ve been sharing a room with a snake for the year!” One smirked, you mentally begged to share a room with your best friend next year. After packing, you made your way downstairs.

“Snake in the common room!” One boy shouted, followed by laughter.

“How original…” You muttered, as you walked through the halls, you were pushed, shoved and called names by other students. You made a quick beeline to the girls' bathroom to cool down, splashed your face with water and tidied your appearance, you glared into the sink, letting out a sigh. “Why can’t they leave me alone?”

You turned from the sink and are met with a fist to the face.

After some time on the floor, you felt a hand on your shoulder, you flinch thinking that they have come back.

“Hey, it’s okay.” You heard a deeper voice say, you turn to see the infamous redhead. “Oh, she really did hurt you, didn’t she?”

You let out a small sigh, feeling slightly embarrassed that your crush had seen you laying on the bathroom floor. You get up, looking at your face in the mirror and wince when you see bruising and a trickle of blood from your nostril.

“Here, let me help.” Fred offered, holding out a small amount of toilet paper, you take the crumpled papers.

“Thank you…” He smiled and shrugged. “Why are you helping me?”

“Pardon?” He asked.

“Why do you care?” You asked, throwing away the soggy paper.

“Well I… to be honest.” He looked at his hands then back up to you. “Actually, I care about you a lot.”

You looked up at him, he liked you back?

“I…since when?”

“Since you sat next to me at the sorting.” He smiled, arms folded to his chest, leaning against a pillar. You stood in silence for a moment.

“I’ve liked you for a while now.” You reply, he looked to you with slight shock. “Since we sat next to each other on the boats.”

“Really?” You looked up at him. “I mean who wouldn’t?”

You rolled your eyes and made your way over to him, leaning up and pecking his cheek.

“I would.” You smiled, taking his hand and lacing your fingers between his. He raised your conjoined hands to his lips, kissing the back of your hand.

“Shall we?” He asked.

“We shall.” You nod, holding your small case you let Fred lead you through the school.

“So I hear that you're lonely at home?” He asked, more as a statement.

“Yes, we have a Christmas morning, kind of. But my parents are always doing work for the Ministry and all.” You shrugged, your parents tried, but they seemed to always have a lot on their plate.

“How about you come with me for Christmas?” He asked, your eyes widen at the thought.

“Are you serious?” You smiled, excited that you’d have someone to spend Christmas with someone, a whole family!

“Serious as can be, besides, I don’t see why not? All you have to do is ask. I’ve seen you do one of your spells to send a message and Evie will come right to you.” He explained, you looked at him impressed, yet confused. “I admit, I have watched you quite a bit…well, a lot.”

“Aww.” You smirk, pinching his cheek which he tries to swat away.

“Oi! Watch the face!” He pulled your hand away. He looked up and saw his brother. “C’mon, we’ll miss the train!”

He takes your hand and you run to the train, George gave a knowing smirk seeing your hands together.

Did he know?

As Fred expected, Evie had met you at the train station with approval from your parents and a gift, you’d wait till Christmas of course. You met Mr Weasley how was excited to have you over for Christmas, asking you various questions on muggle artifacts, Fred gave you an apologetic smile, but you didn’t mind, occasionally talking to Mr Weasley and Ginny who sat beside you.

The flying car landed at a tall, tower-like home.

“Here we are, The Burrow.” Mr Weasley clapped. “Come along, everyone’s inside!”

You looked at him confused.

“Oh, everyone else used the floo, Harry, Ron and Hermione are here too,” Ginny explained, your face went pale. “Don’t worry, everyone will love you!”

You gave her a nod and followed her to the house, Mr Weasley opened the door and called out.

“Hello! We’re home!” He smiled and let you all inside, you look around and noticed the homey interior. How lovely. You made your way over to a clock that had faces of the Weasley family, you smile seeing the moving faces.

“Oh, you’re back!” You turn to see a small, plump woman hugging her children, greeting them individually. “I missed you so much, there better have been no mischief boys.”

You looked at the brothers and let out a small laugh, which caught the attention of the red-headed woman.

“Oh! You must be (Y/n)!” She made her way to you with a bright smile and open arms. She was small but she sure was strong. “My Fred has told me a lot about you, dear!”

You look in his direction with a cheeky smile.

“Okay, let her breathe mum!” Fred said.

“She can’t if you’re holding her like that.” George added. She gave the twins a look before letting go.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs Weasley.” You offered and she held your hand with a pat.

“I’m glad you’re here, the more the merrier!”

And that was true, Christmas seemed to roll around the corner and the Burrow was decked out, everyone sat together for Christmas dinner, Ron, Harry and Hermione were happy to see you there. You sat with Fred at the table when they began to exchange gifts, you looked at Fred and took out the small present from your pocket.

“For me?” He asked, holding a package of a similar size.

“I was going to give it to you after the Holidays.” You admitted, he planned the same. The presents exchanged were small but meaningful. You had made him a small bracelet with a small charm and he had gotten you an animal-shaped pin, something he found out you were looking for.

You were glad that you had come over for Christmas, making new friends, a second family and finally knowing that Fred fancied you back, no longer lonely and without friends.

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

S.T. REWRITE - S2:E7; Chapter Seven, The Lost Sister - [Pt. 5]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

In their search for answers, psychic visions draw Eleven and Y/n to a band of violent outcasts and an angry girl with a shadowy past.

||3rd Person POV||

Jane is lead throughout the warehouse once her strength has returned, herself, Kali and the rest find themselves in a newer room that Jane has not yet seen. She and her sister come face to face with a wall decorated with photographs and documents of various people.

"These are the bad men, as you call them. The ones we believe are still alive. Do you know any?"

Jane's brown eyes sweep the wall, she is careful to take in every face studiously as she scans. Not a single photograph or document, no individual piece of parchment has gone unmarked. The words filter to the back of her brain as she soaks up the images, the only useful information to her. She finds no familiar faces, that is, until her eyes land on a folder news clipping of a bald man caucasian man. But she knew him as the four-fifty man.

The man in charge of hurting her mother. He did it. He hurt her mother, turned her into what she was today. Stuck.

"Him." Says Jane, taking the paper from the wall. "He hurt Mama."

"His name is Ray Caroll," Kali informs. "And he did more than hurt your mother."

[FLASHBACK]

The men step forward, the electrified weapon crackles as he whips it forward towards the cowering young girl. She knows what's coming, she knows the pain all too well.

[END OF FLASHBACK]

"The bad men like Ray, they about us. It's made hard to track. But maybe not anymore."

The anger returns once more and Jane crushes the paper in her hands in a fit of rage. The paper rolled tight in her hands, she now sits in the warehouse her new companions surrounding her as she searches. They watch studiously as she sits almost statuesque, and some begin to grow irritated by the white noise of the static but then she moves. Her face scrunches up into a tight scowl behind her blindfold and she rips the paper in half. She discards the cloth from her eyes and looks to Kali, nodding.

"Gramercy Apartments. Washington and Bethel." Dottie reads, the phonebook hanging lazily in her hands. "That's gotta be it. Right?"

Kali is seated above her at the table and reaches out, taking the phonebook from her waiting hands as sits criss-cross on the floor.

"'Linburn.' Where is that?" Kali asks, leaning back.

"About an hour east." Funshine answers.

"We don't even have a new ride," Mick argues worriedly.

Kali leans forward, a smirk on her features.

"So we swap plates. We have plates, right?"

Axel looks to her incredulously but nods anyway from where he is seated beside Jane. "Yeah..."

"It's risky," Mick adds, beginning to pace.

The sly smirk returns to Kali's lips as she looks to her friend. "Where's the fun if there's no risk?"

"We want to give my sister a memorable first day, right?" She asks, a gleaming look in her eye as she looks to Jane.

"I'm in," Funshine quips, a kind smile directed at the girl. "For Miss Jane."

Jane smiles, and Axel sighs exasperatedly as he waves his beer can in the air exaggeratingly.

"Yeah, sure. Why not? Mick?"

Every eye falls to the woman and she sighs at the sky, shaking her head despite the ends of her lips curling into a smile. She looks to her friends and throws her arms in the air.

"Screw it!"

The group disperses into an organized flurry and Jane finds herself stranded in the middle, unsure of what to do. Though she finds relief when Kali sneaks behind her and gives her a smile and a reassuring squeeze of her shoulders. All around her, the gang prepares. Mick and Dottie wait as Funshine and Axel empty the safe, cocking their guns and checking ammo.

Kali drags Jane back upstairs to the room, for the final touch. Jane sits in the desk chair, albeit a bit confused as Dottie stands over her gauging her color as Kali plucks a dark blazer and shirt from the masses. Jane waits patiently as prods around her head, floating her hair back and adding a strange powder to her eyes and lips.

Finally, the rest of the gang is called up to the room once she is changed and ready, Dottie spins the desk chair and she revealed to as the newest member of their group. They gaze at her awe and there are several gaps and nods of approval.

Dottie folds her arm in as she leans against the wall, observing her work and she nods with a confident smile.

"Bitchin'."

"Bitchin'." Jane agrees.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The gang steps out into the sun with great stride, their newest member decorated proudly, her head held high. Like her friend before her, she wears cuffed jeans and black tee. A wool blazer hangs on her body, the sleeves pushed to her elbows but she is comfortable. Happy. Bitchin. Unsheathing the van from the tarp, they waste no time in piling into their "new ride". The can takes off, weaving through the twisted corners and alleyways and even blow past a bust, drawing a wandering eye from a suspicious officer.

The van hits the open road, Mick in the front seat and the others piled into the back. She takes a puff from her cigarette, one hand on the wheel and spares a glance to Axel in the passenger seat and blows a puff of smoke in his face. The music sounds in their ears and he sits bouncing in his seat, banging his head to the music.

In the back, Dottie plays a rhythm in the table as she hangs her head, Funshine nodding along next to her with a smile. Kali digs through the pile of masks, holding out different options for Jane before eventually losing herself in the music. Her head begins to move with the rhythm of the music, her purple hair flying all around her and Jane watches. She smiles in awe, a warmth spreading in her chest, finally feeling a sense of belonging and she allows her own head to sway to the music losing herself in the moment.

Times passes and much to Jane's disappointment the moment ends. The van pulls off the road at George's Gas n' Go and the gang piles out of the van. Jane lingers in the van door at Kali's side as she stares at the gas station uneasily.

"What are we doing?"

"Stocking up."

The duo joins their friends in the convenience store to find them already dispersed as planned. Jane sticks to Kali's side as she stops lingers by the store clerk.

"Hey, your bathroom is leaking."

The man frowns in response, hiking himself over the counter to see a pool of brown water flood out from under the door.

"Oh shit."

"Yes," Kali agrees. "Shit."

The pair watched in amusement as the man scurries over to the bathroom door, tiptoeing over the dry ground in disgust and heads inside closing the door behind him.

Axel stalks around the corner with a cocky smile and mischief in his eyes. He looks around at his mates and gestures eagerly around the store.

"Okay, contestants, you have a minute and a half, let's begin your supermarket sweep!" He cheers gleefully, sliding across the floor arms outstretched.

They sweep the area, Jane wanders down an aisle and picks up an apple. Her eyes venture further down the aisle to find the freezer of frozen treats and she discards the apple without a second thought. Making a beeline for the freezer door, she rips it open and grabs as many boxes of Eggos as she can carry. On the other end of the store, Axel jumps the counter and grabs a plastic bag fluffing out before pulling it with cash from the register. Funshine raids the other freezer for beer and Dottie - having already snatched some useful supplies for her and the other ladies - takes a gander at the selection of sunglasses.

"Hey! Put that back, or I'll blow your head off."

All heads turn to the counter where the clerk has returned and is now aiming a gun at Axel who raids the register. Axel slowly raises his hands, and the clerk steps forward.

"You hear me, freak?"

"Put the gun down," Kali orders slowly, stalking forward carefully her arms in a small surrender.

"Stay back." He warns. "Stay back."

"Darrel," she eases. "Your money is insured. We are only stealing from the war criminal billionaires who own this place. You won't even lose a dime."

As the words calmly leave her mouth, the others stalk forward to her aid in slow cautious steps.

"You won't even lose a dime."

"I said stay back." He spits, stepping forward in view of Jane.

Kali raises her hand further, her stature showing nothing but ease.

"We're on the same side. I promise."

Jane steps closer down the aisle. She has gone unnoticed so far and so she remains. The clerk is in her sights now as she reaches the end of the aisle.

"Stay back." He says once more, gun pointed in Kali's face.

With a forceful scream, Jane steps forward throwing her arm up the man. He is sent flying through the air and he crashes into a stockpile of goods that now surround him as he lays on the ground unconscious. The group gathers as they admire her work.

"Damn, Shirley," Axel marvels.

The sound of sirens quickly grabs their attention and it only takes them a matter of moments before they are safe in the van, loot in hand. Mick is quick behind the driver's seat, having taken watch over the van during the raid thanks to her quick thinking and driving skills, they lose the sirens in a matter of minutes leaving nothing behind but a cloud of dust.

||Reader's POV||

My stomach rumbles and I can feel the sharp edges as it growls. My hand comes to rest on my stomach and I fight a groan. Either I was slowing, or I didn't take into account how quickly it would grow dark. Most likely, it was a combination of both. I haven't eaten since Becky's and it's already getting duller out. I have to squint a bit to see but thankfully my eyes adjusted as the sun slowly began to fade away.

I've been taking breaks every hour and a half or so, and I've quickly come to enjoy them. I've already made a habit of checking my watch and I have to stop myself from checking it every other minute. I debate it carefully in my head and I decide that thirty seconds has been long enough. I turn over my wrist and examine the watch, and it is not a surprise at all to find that second hand has only moved thirty notches.

But eyes to linger on the watch itself and I smile as the memory of receiving the watch come back to me slowly. Dustin gave it to me for my last birthday. He had known I had been eyeing it for a while and he saved up money to pay for it. Well, technically he went splitzies with mom since it was a bit expensive, but I didn't care. I love it.

My smile fades and my stomach turns. I miss Dustin. And Mom, although I know I'm going to get an earful when I get home. Knowing Dustin, when he confronts me about going out on a solo adventure and lying to him not only as a sister but as a party member, he's going to give the silent treatment for a while. And that's just Dustin, I have no idea the extremity of what I'm in for when I return.

||3rd Person POV||

Mick draws the van to a slow as it creeps through the parking lot Gramercy Apartments. The sun has set over the horizon and the headlights sweep over glistening cement and the vehicle pulls to a stop. Mick and Axel turn to face the others, and Mick begins giving orders.

"We should case the place, stick to the routine. We have time."

"We also have her," Adds Kali. "Can you look?"

Jane nods and closes her eyes, the others watch her carefully with more patience than the last. A speck of blood peels from her nostril and her eyelids flutter open.

"He's watching television."

"Is he alone?" Mick asks.

"I saw him. No one else."

"Good enough for me." Kali shrugs.

The others nod in agreement, and Jane fiddles with the plastic doll mask in her hands. Mumbles of agreement percolate from the group and Funshine speaks up, adorning his namesake mask, a pink carebear.

"Let's do this."

The others follow his lead, and soon each face if covered, and one by one they pile out onto the street.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"Punky, what's the matter?"

Ray looks at his drink uncertainly, and readjusts in his Lay-Z-Boy as the man on television storms in the room, flipping on the switch and coming to the child's aid with great worry.

The small girl named Punky pets her dog comfortingly but looked desperately to the man her eyes wide and frightened.

"A nightmare. I dreamt I was in the doctor's office. All of a sudden, he's started to give me a shot in my arm."

Unbeknownst to Ray, the chain lock on his door silently unlocks itself in the other room as the frightened child on the television set continues to describe her nightmare. As he listens, he realizes it is not his drink that has left the bitter taste on his tongue.

"Then the needle got bigger and bigger and bigger..."

The chain comes undone and dangles tauntingly against the wooden door, scratching it lightly and the TV pops, the screen going dark. With a grunt, he rises from his seat and reaches the set, fiddling with the knobs to get it to work. Out of sight, Kali is the first to enter the apartment, followed closely by Jane and Dottie and the rest.

"Hello, Ray."

The man whirls around, his heart pounding in his chest to find four masked figures standing in his living room.

"Jesus Christ!" He pants, running for the door.

He comes to halt to find a masked Funshine blocking the exit. Funshine stalks forward, getting in his face.

"Sit down. Please."

Ray continues to back up, the larger masked man never ceasing his advances and he is backed into his spot in the living room. He grabbed by the shoulders suddenly and thrown into the chair.

"I said sit." He spits.

He holds out a trembling hand, too afraid to meet their eye.

"Just, please... just take whatever you want."

Axel, leans forward mockingly, his hands on his knees. All the man sees is the tallest of the bunch with a spikey mohawk - which added to his already intimidating height - and contextually unsettling mummy mask over his face.

"Oh, we will." He growls.

Dottie imitates his moves, leaning forward behind her clown mask and tilts her head. "Where's your wallet?"

"Bedroom. My bedroom. My jeans." Ray stutters, gesturing around the corner and Dottie disappears pulling Axel with her.

Funshine stands guard at the only exit at attention, arms crossed his large frame blocking anyone from moving. Axel and Dottie raid his bedroom, stealing not only the money from his wallet but pills from his drawer and anything else of cash value. Meanwhile, El and Kali stand over the cowering man who looks between them swallowing thickly.

He expects the worse, but much to his surprise the taller girl - the one he knew was in charge - took off her mask revealing a familiar face. She glared at him, before giving the ok to her companion. She complies, peeling back the doll mask to reveal a young face. The leader raises a brow.

"Do you remember us?"

Not daring to speak a word, he shakes his head no. The girls do not move but every light, every bulb in the apartment flickers violently. The entire room flashes like a funhouse with a sharp hiss furthering the illusion. The lights darken completely for a brief moment and when they return he is shown two small girls, all too familiar.

"What about us?" The braided girl asks. "Do you remember us, Ray?"

He gapes in fear and the lights flicker once more, the older girls return and he met with a strong right hook to the face. He falls to the ground, hissing in pain where he know rests on his hands and knees. Pleasingly, he looks to their angered and vengeful faces and begins to weep as they did all those years ago.

"Please. Please."

"You hurt Mama." The younger girl spits, disgust and hatred dripping from her voice.

Yet another forceful scream erupts from her throat and she whips her arm out, Ray is sent flying with it. Like the clerk, he is sent into the wall where he lays now cowering in pain and fear. The pale girl with dark eyes marches forward, disgust and rage in her eyes at a mere glance. Her shoulders move rapidly, her breathing increases as she tries to control her hated but it too strong.

Blood drips from his scalp, and his whole body is shaking. He cowers as far as he can into the broken wall, though he can't escape. Kali watches in a trance as she finds the man who haunted her memories and cowered as she did under his wrath. She did nothing to stop Jane as she advances.

"Wait..." he croaks, his voice barely audible. "Wait, please... I just did what he told me to do."

Jane tilts her head, hot angry tears flood her vision but she does not let this break her focus or her goal.

"He said she was sick." He wept.

"You had a choice, Ray," Kali says, her voice stern. "And you chose to follow a man you knew was evil."

Jane throws her hand up and he flinches violently.

"No, wait! No, wait! Wait!"

Jane falters, though her anger does not.

"I can help. I can help you find him."

Kali's jaw clenched and she speaks through gritted teeth. "Find who?"

"Brenner! I can take you to him."

This is enough to shake Jane's confidence. She can feel herself breaking at the mention but it only fuels the emotion. Her eyes cloud and she tries desperately not to allow her voice to break.

"Papa is gone."

Ray shakes his head, a mixture of regret, pity, and guilt cross his face.

"No, he is alive."

"Don't lie to us, Ray."

The man's shoulder begins to shake and he is crying once more, tears streaming freely from his cheeks.

"I'm not lying!" He croaks, his voice falling into pitiful whimpers. "I swear... he trusts me."

Jane watches in horror, her stomach flipping and her heart clenching into impossible knots she fears it will stop beating. She refuses to believe it, she does not want to. She can't.

"I'll take you to him." Ray eases.

"If he is alive, Jane will find him. Just as she found you. Do it, Jane."

But Jane is frozen, she battles the fear of the horrid possibility and yet the image of him replays in her mind on a torturous loop. Four-fifty.

"Do it."

Four fifty.

"Wait."

The man is pulled slightly from the ground, his hands clawing desperately at the invisible hold around his neck. He chokes and gasps for air as Jane scowls at the man, her hand outstretched and clenched. He topples to the floor completely, and his eyes begin to roll back in his head as he slowly moves across the floor from her forceful hold. Jane only looks at him as nothing more than something brought in on someone's shoe.

She follows him, her grip still firm and Kali trails behind her proudly, whispering in her ear.

"Not too quickly." She suggests. "He wasn't so generous with your mother."

Jane watches with satisfaction as he slides across the tile floor, his face turning purple and his going bloodshot. Veins pop from his head and she feels strength in his pain. But her eyes drift to the broken frame near his head. It was him, smiling, his arms wrapped around two young girls.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Axel and Dottie reach the final door in the hallway and swing it open. Their stomachs drop when their eyes land on the sight of two young girls hiding in the corner, clinging to one another and a working phone, 911 on the other line.

"Oh, shit."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Jane releases her grip, her strain lifting and she begins to paint. The man coughs and gasps for breath, but he is relieved. Kali looks to Jane frantically.

"What's wrong?" When she receives no answer, she asks again louder and harsher. "What's wrong?"

Axel appears in the hallway, gesturing to the open door behind him where Dottie appears.

"We got a problem."

"Kids in the apartment." Dottie pants.

"Please..." Ray whimpers.

Kali desperately returns her attention to the task at hand, urgency creeping up.

"Did he show your mother mercy? No."

Ray's cries go ignored as Kali continues to whisper to Jane, her motives and wounds pushing her and Jane stands to stare at the pleading man. Torn.

"He took her from you, without hesitation."

"Please don't. Please."

"We got to go, K!" Axel shouts. "They called the cops."

"We finish this first." She snaps, returning to the girl. "Jane, now!"

"Please don't... Please. Please."

Unable to waste any more time, Kali whips out her gun, pointing it at the man who shrieks in fear. Jane's attention snaps to her hand and with one swift flick of her head, the gun flies across the room and crashes through the window, shattering the glass. Kali looks disbelieving at Jane, fire in her eyes seething and for the first time, Jane falters. Her eyes flicker to the ground and once again she feels like a scolded pet, nothing more than she was in the lab.

"Kali, we gotta go!" Axel shouts, running down the hallway Dottie on his tail.

Sirens were approaching and only then did they snap out of their trances. They fled down the apartment and out of the back door and down the stairs. They fumble across the grass out back, the police already swarming the apartment from the parking lot. Just in time and as promised, Mick pulls the van to a halting stop at the curb where it waits for them

The van is in motion before the door closed and when they find themselves ok the open road, Kali begins to speak. She turns to Jane, who sits beside her, her arms folded in and she closed off. Tears streak down her cheeks but this does not lessen Kali's venom.

"If you wanted to show mercy, that is your choice. But don't you ever take away mine. Ever. Do you understand?" Her voice raises as she gets in Jane's face. "Do you understand?"

Jane flinches, her breathing still heavy and spotty but all she can do is look away swallowing the bitter taste.

+++

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[romana73]

REYLO FANFIC: YIN AND YAN. PART 5

WRITER: Romana73 TIME: One year after Star Wars. Episode VIII. The Last Jedi THEME AND FANDOM: Star Wars RATING: Explicit TITLE: Yin and Yan CATEGORIES: M/F COUPLES: Kylo Ren / Ben Solo and Rey CHARACTERS: Rey, Kylo Ren / Ben Solo, Anakin Skywalker (nominated), BB - 8, Knights of Ren, Chewbacca, Darth Vader (nominated), Finn, General Hux, Han Solo (nominated), Leia Organa, Luke Skywalker, Poe Dameron, Rose Tico, boys from Canto Bright, Snoke (nominated), various Resistance and First Order fighters WARNINGS: Star Wars characters, world and stories AREN’T MINE AND DON’T BELONG TO ME, but they are created and owned by George Lucas, Lucasfilm, Disney, J.J. Abrams and Rian Johnson and the actors who play the Star Wars characters and their stories. I’M NOT IN ANY WAY LINKED TO THESE PEOPLE AND CINEMATOGRAPHIC HOUSES. I DON’T KNOW NO ONE OF THEM and I’M IN NO WAY IN CONTACT WITH THEM

WARNINGS 2: violence, also in terms of language. The starting idea of ​​this story derives from a leaks I read last year and which struck my imagination CHAPTER I can be found HERE: https://romana73.tumblr.com/post/189784450126/reylo-fanfiction-yin-e-yan CHAPTER II can be found HERE: https://romana73.tumblr.com/post/189959876431/reylo-fanfic-yin-and-yan-part-2 CHAPTER III can be found HERE: https://romana73.tumblr.com/post/190301208881/reylo-fanfic-yin-and-yan-3-part CHAPTER IV can be found HERE: https://romana73.tumblr.com/post/190662591396/reylo-fanfic-yin-and-yan-chapter-iv

CHAPTER V (PART I )

- Thanks ... nothing ... yes, I know. No ... don't bother me - Rey heard distant, muffled voices breaking through sleep blanket enveloped her, until one voice became stronger and more distinct than others, managing to shake her completely. Kylo Ren had ordered someone don’t disturb him. His voice and footsteps seemed terribly close. She snapped her eyes open, tensing herself like a violin string. Sweating cold and standing still, Rey tried to focus on situation. Praying he wouldn’t notice her awakening, simulating sleeping breathing, Rey narrowed her eyes, trying to understand what condition she was in. First thing she noticed were her wrists free of anti-Force handcuffs. Under soft, shiny sheets, her feet were bare. Her body was stretched out on a hard but comfortable mattress. Rey wasted no time wondering who could have arranged her in that way, her memory worked all too well. By time Kylo had picked her up, frustration in her from situation had grown, causing her to rant slowly against him. She didn’t want to make scenes and show, giving satisfaction to new Supreme Leader and his men. Nonetheless, Rey could barely contain growing irritation animated her. After insults, she had changed tactics, also trying to kick and make sudden and sudden movements with her body, but nothing had seemed to scratch Kylo’s calm, ​​who had limited himself to absorbing her blows and tantrums, continuing to walk undeterred and in hush. Glancing behind boy's shoulders, Rey was startled when she noticed dirt road stretching endlessly. Rebel base had disappeared and landscape had lost its well-known outlines. Rey had felt tears burn her eyes once more. Memory of desperate expressions of Finn, Poe, Milo and Cleena as she gave them one last look, before Kylo took her away from them, Leia’s eyes full of love and tenderness... that time she hadn't been able to restrain herself. Before she could notice, loud sobs had come out of her mouth , filling her ears. Tears ran freely over her face. Her head had given way, touching Kylo's wide chest, sinking her face, until crying turned into deep sleep. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Kylo Ren had laid Rey on his bed, pulling her shoes off and throwing them on the ground. Angry, he had raised a hand, using Force to slide covers from under girl's body and place them on top of her, without touching her. Kylo had snorted, touching his torn shirt, still wet with tears. At a firm pace, he had reached his private bathroom, nervously taking off his clothes and throwing himself in shower, washing himself frantically, as if an acid was burning his skin, ending up hitting wall in front of him with a punch. Panting, Kylo had stood watching wall pieces fallen at his feet. If there had been no Rey and intruders who had followed them since they left Resistance base, Kylo would have vented, destroying something and, perhaps, blowing some heads of those fanatics in his service, but he had imposed himself not to lose brackets, at least for moment. He had a plan and goals and was determined to carry them out, going all way, at any cost. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- -Vicrul, get ready. Let's go to Canto Bright. You have to hunt down some Force-sensitive kids. Scare them, exhaust them, but don't kill them. - Kylo had instructed succinctly three days earlier, entering quarters of one of his Knights. Blond man, with cold gray eyes and a square face, furrowed by various scars, had opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it again, merely nodding. It wasn’t up to him to investigate why their Leader had decided to show up in person, asking don’t to kill any more brats, while until recently he was wandering intolerantly for Finalizer, barely looking at them, ordering through Hux or sitting on throne to kill all Force-sensitive kids and anyone else who went against him. Ever since Jedi girl and Resistance escaped him, Kylo seemed to be swinging between being an efficient and cold God of Death and looking like a volcano ready to erupt. Vicrul had watched Kylo's tall and powerful figure on his back as he walked out of room. For sure, characteristic their leader wouldn’t have lost was gloomy. Vicrul shrugged and, reaching out, grabbed his shining vibrating scythe leaning against wall near his bed, started to fix it. Few vibrations of his weapon was enough to scared worst of monsters, let alone immature and inexperienced children...

Kylo had continued to walk down corridor, thowards Cardo's quarters, when he had met General Hux from opposite side. Pale, tall and thin, red hair combed back, small and pale eyes, he proceeded stiff, tight in his black military uniform, with puffy pants and high leather boots. While crossing Kylo, he stopped, snapping to attention and beating his boots heels together quickly. Kylo had folded his mouth in an annoyed grimace, irritated by sound of soldier's shoes. To tell the truth, he detested Hux and only man's dedication to cause made Kylo leave him alive. That feeling could come in handy. - Supreme Leader, excuse me for bothering you, sir - Hux had apostrophized Kylo, ​​holding one hand out to his temple and looking at an invisible distant point in front of him. Supreme Leader had stopped, turning only his head to look at his interlocutor, waiting for him to continue. -I heard you was ordering to head to Canto Bright planet ... - Hux had made a cautious debut. -Did you hear? Did you eavesdrop as usual, General Hux? - Kylo had cut short, frowning. Man’s embarrassed expression, mixed with irritation and anger he felt for what he considered pure insolence on part of young man amused Kylo, ​​although he didn’t let him shine through. -It wasn’t my intention, sir, I assure you... - Hux had swallowed strong desire to whip that attractive young face, despite oblique scar marked left side, starting from forehead and crossing cheek, neck and disappearing under shirt. Only power Kylo Ren had over him was sensitivity to what everyone called Force. If he had been a normal person, situation would have been very different and, perhaps, he would have considered boy just one of many ants to be subdued or killed with which universe seemed populated. Kylo kept his stoic expression, although he had sensed Hux's thoughts. Young Leader had felt itchy hands from desire to lift one his hand in Hux direction and strangle him using Force, without even touching him, as after Snoke’s killing, when General had tried to oppose his seizure of power and he had raised one hand towards him, bending thumb and forefinger as if he were really tightening his carotid artery. Hux's face had been tinged with a red similar to his hair and he had bulged his eyes, gasping and holding his hands to his throat in search of air. Kylo had released his grip suddenly and General had returned to breathe, following him in silence, like an angry dog, but too hungry to abandon master from whom he received brutal kicks, but also a decent and safe meal. Kylo had shrugged, giving up on suffocating Hux and had approached him, arranging stiff collar of his uniform with his hands. For second time in ten minutes, Hux had swallowed empty, looking straight in front of him, avoiding direct contact with Kylo Ren's dark brown eyes, at that moment animated by a sinister and amused light. -We will go to Canto Bright for a mission, let's say...crucial - Kylo had sighed, anticipating officer's questions. - Whatever happens, what you have to do, is send a handful of Stormtroopers to scare and confuse and, in my absence, follow Cardo and Vicrul's instructions - Kylo was done, leaving collar of Hux's jacket and peering at him, face with stern eyes. -Yes, but ... in Canto Bright there is a handful of children sensitive to Force and if Resistance came to save them? - Hux had insisted attentively. "I hope so," Kylo thought to himself. He had shrugged. -I don't see problem. I'll take care of it - he replied, walking away abruptly. Hux had remained motionless, moving only when Kylo Ren was at a safe distance. Soldier had cast a murderous look in boy's direction, gritting his small white teeth. Being unnatural, that's what Jedi, Sith and other Force-sensitive people were to him. They believed themselves superior to others, awarded with who knows what mission only because they possessed special faculties. He had always wondered what such individuals would do if they lost their precious skills. He doubted they would be able to combine something good and useful. Kylo Ren was one of worst specimens in that category. Not only he have great sensitivity to Force, but he was a direct descendant of one of the most important families, whose members had always enjoyed playing chess with life and destiny of galaxy, indelibly marking its history, but this seemed not enough for young man. Kylo had considered himself a victim of who knows what wrongs and stepped on his feet, until he became Snoke's pupil, stealing his power and bending entire First Order to his personal purposes. No. True superior being was common people like him who, without need of strange powers, were able to conquer, build and destroy. Normal people were natural, those with strength weren’t. Not for him, at least. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Vicrul had only needed to appear in stables under Canto Bright Casino, face covered with his shiny helmet of mineral pastillion and long black coat of monstrous reptile skin, vibrating his shiny silver scythe a couple of times to make Force - sensitive children run away on all sides. Stormtrooper had invaded Casino itself, causing panic and confusion, so no one would notice boys'escape. Kylo had observed scene in a serious and shady way, flanked by a displeased and upright Hux who didn’t understand meaning of all that and seemed to tremble with the desire to intervene in first person. A smile shadow had appeared and immediately disappeared on Kylo's face when he felt Rey and Resistance arrival. He had extended his senses, letting her feel his presence, guiding her to where he was. Kylo had watched Rey use Force to throw Vicrul busy chasing a girl, then he intervened before she threw herself on his Knight. - Stay here, General - he had ordered Hux amused, before reaching Rey and starting to duel with her. Vicrul had taken opportunity to reach Hux on Finalizer, where he had exchanged a nod of agreement with Cardo who had immediately got off ship using a secondary exit. Cardo had hidden in forest beside battlefield, where he had remained silent and motionless, waiting. Kylo was blocking Rey's blows, when his head had been invaded by pain. He had breathed deeply, extinguishing lightsaber, planting his feet on the ground and stiffening his legs, in an attempt not to fall, but pain had been stronger. Taking his head in his hands, Kylo Ren had flown to ground, rolling in excruciating pangs, gritting his teeth. With narrowed eyes, Kylo had seen Rey stirring on ground, in equal condition. Kylo had tried to control, if not overcome, pain just enough to look around, until his fatigued gaze settled on an intense white glow. Supreme Leader had stretched out an arm in an attempt to use Force against annoying light, when a cold ring had closed around his wrist with a dull click, suddenly blocking his faculties. Kylo had folded his arm and, with a tug, had thrown his assailant away. He was fumbling with the cuff around his wrist when one foot had planted himself in center of his back, locking him on the ground. Kylo had folded her lips in a sarcastic smile...he could have blown them, but it wasn't his intention. Kylo had moved as if to shake off his limb when other rebels had landed on him. Someone had kicked him, others had hit him with blaster’s handle. One person out of all had pulled his arms firmly behind his back, finishing locking his wrists in anti-Force handcuffs. Kylo had spied out of corner of his eye to find out who had handcuffed him. Poe Dameron. Quite right. He had captured and tortured pilot, now Poe was returning favor. His smile had gone wild. Apparently, Resistance had lost some hesitation, taking hasty and less elegant methods, at least with him. Wandering around, sensing his darkening gaze and hearing a soft growl coming out of his closed lips, Kylo had had time to see FN-2187, who was carrying Rey suffering in his arms, away from him, when a kind of shiny, black and technological eye mask had descended on him, obscuring his sight. -Really?- He had grinned provocatively as they dragged him away. - Do you think I don't know where you're taking me? I know all your bases and tricks ... ouch! - A strong blame in abdomen had cut his breath in his throat. Kylo had coughed, without ceasing to smile. -Where did you get it? - Kylo had heard Rey's faint voice asking in vain. "Rey!" He had tried to call her telepathically with her, but she had already passed out.

[krumbine]

Videorama: Revenge of the Nooooo!

The year is 2005.

George W. Bush is just starting his second term in the White House.

The hottest game in cell phone technology is the Motorola Razr V3 and the PalmOne Treo 650.

The iPhone is still a few years away.

The Rise of Skywalker isn’t even a twinkle in Disney’s eye––an eye that’s currently preoccupied with an overly optimistic Narnia Franchise Wet Dream.

In fact, Disney wouldn’t even buy Star Wars for another seven years.

It’s summer in 2005 and millions of marketing dollars can still pull the wool over the eyes of a naive movie-going public, dictating box office success regardless of audience consensus or even general quality of filmmaking.

All hail the grand illusion of capitalism.

It’s a warm evening in the summer of 2005 and video rental stores are still a thing.

One particular, independently-run store––freestanding, double glass doors on the left side of the brick facade, small parking lot––was just turning its sign on as dusk settled.

Videorama was open for business.

*

Tobey blinked incredulously at the three teenagers standing on the other side of the counter. His brain hurt as he attempted to summon the endurance needed to fathom the sheer stupidity of their question.

To buy himself some time, Tobey blinked again.

“… well?” asked the one with the long greasy hair. “Do you have it?”

There was no way these kids were serious.

Tobey shook his head in disbelief. “You’re not serious.”

The one with a bad case of acne threw his hands up in exasperation. “Dude, for fuck’s sake!”

Tobey looked over at the other man behind the video store counter, feet up, sketch pad in lap. “I think these guys are serious.”

The third teenager was pale and wore a lot of heavy black eyeliner. He spoke in a flat monotone: “Catwoman. Do you have it or not?”

Tobey broke into a lopsided grin. “Oh, I get it. This is like a prank, right? Where’s the hidden camera?” Tobey propped his elbows on the counter and leaned forward. “Am I gonna be on the internet?!”

Long Hair was reaching his limit. “C’mon, man, we just wanna rent the movie.”

Tobey’s grin dropped. “No joke?”

“Dude.”

“Catwoman?”

They were practically pleading. “Do you have it or not?”

Tobey stood back, somber. This was worse than he thought. “Holy fucking shit.” He turned again to the other guy behind the counter. “Kurt, these guys are actually serious.”

Kurt didn’t look up from his sketch pad. “Hm.”

Zits backhanded Long Hair’s chest. “This is ridiculous, man.  Let’s get outta here.”

Almost through this, Tobe.

Eyeliner started for the exit. “Fuck these asswipes.”

Fuck me.

“Alright, you fucking hormone-addled, gene-pool rejects. Listen.” Tobey leaned forward. “I can appreciate the fact that the three of you otherwise fine young gentlemen are undoubtedly blinded by your adolescent throes of puberty––to saying nothing of the ungodly amount of jizz sprayed in your eyes from the nonstop circle jerk that is your formative years––so it stands to reason that the mere notion of Halle Berry sporting a whip and a leather catsuit is enough to make you pop your collective nut––which, again, I do understand. Halle Berry is a fine specimen of the female gender and I myself have spent many a lonely night pondering Ms. Berry’s lithe and supple … skills.”

Tobey lost himself for a moment and the three teenagers stared at him in confusion. Tobey nodded absently and then returned to the conversation.

“Fellas,” he implored. “All that being said, you cannot tell me that simple, unabashed horniness is just cause for what will amount to the severe rapage of your individual minds––a tragic and unavoidable fate that you will all most assuredly fall victim to should you proceed to rent the motion picture that is Catwoman.”

To buy themselves a moment to process Tobey’s rant, the three teenagers blinked at him.

“… yes?” Zits said, lacking any sense of surety of himself.

Tobey sighed. Definitely worse than he thought. With a sad shake of his head: “Look, let me make a suggestion. Go with Monster’s Ball instead. It’s got our girl in it, bare titties and all. Lots of sex plus it’s a flick that won’t rot your brain. It’s a goddamned win-win for everybody. Especially you.”

Tobey pointed at Eyeliner before changing his mind. “Well, maybe not everybody.”

Eyeliner’s face was as a neutral as his voice. “Isn’t she fucking Billy Bob Thornton in that one?”

“So?”

Zits scowled. “Dude, that is so fucking nasty! He’s all old and wrinkly and shit.”

Tobey wanted to ram an ice pick in his own ear. “What the actual fuck, my man? We've already established that you're watching the flick for Halle Berry's tits, not Billy Bob's ball sack! What the fuck do you care what he looks like?!”

“We don’t!” Long Hair cried. “We just care about Catwoman!”

Tobey threw his hands in the air. There was no reasoning with these kids. “Okay, fine. I see how it is. Get out.”

Incredulous offense from Zits. “What?!”

Ineffable deadpan from Eyeliner. “You’re throwing us out?”

“No. Right now I’m asking you to leave in a gentle yet firm manner, as to assert a polite yet authoritative dominance over this conversation,” Tobey said. “In about twenty seconds I’ll be throwing you out.”

“We just want to rent a movie!” Zits said through gritted teeth and mounting frustration.

“Incorrect,” Tobey responded, raising an index finger. “You want to rent shit. There is a difference, although I can see that the lack of immediate release has caused the cum to bubble up and disorient your brain cells, inhibiting logical cognition. Regardless, I don’t even carry Catwoman since I have a very strict policy on stocking crappy movies.”

Long Hair tilted his head, waiting. “What’s your policy on stocking crappy movies?”

Eyeliner with the deadpan punchline: “He doesn’t.”

“––I don’t,” Tobey said at the same time. He shot Eyeliner an exasperated glare. “C’mon, dude!”

Eyeliner shrugged a shoulder.

Tobey leaned forward. “Now why don’t you three numb-nuts find yourselves a tittie mag, have a circle jerk, and just be done with it already, okay?”

Eyeliner scoffed indifferently. “This is bullshit. Let’s bounce, boys.”

Tobey nodded. “That’s right. But be sure to use plenty of lube. Too much bouncing chafes the shaft.”

Zits lunged across the counter but Long Hair pulled him back. “Fuck you, asshole.”

Tobey glanced down and flipped a page in his Indie Film magazine. “Mm. Clever.”

Zits straightened. He had one card left to play and he was entirely too confident in the move. “Hey. I wanna speak to the manager. Dick.”

Tobey looked up from his magazine. “I am the manager, you dipshit. Now get the hell out of my store before I call the fucking cops and have them throw you out.”

The three teenagers exchanged looks before stumbling to the exit, muttering various expletives under their breaths as they went.

“Yeah, I heard all of that!” Tobey called after them as the bell on the door jingled.

“You handled that well,” Kurt said from behind Tobey.

“You could have jumped in at any time there, buddy.”

“Seemed like you had it handled,” Kurt shrugged.

A young woman stepped up to the counter. Straight blonde hair to her shoulders and curves that Tobey drank in an instant glance, imperceptible the casual observer.

She perceived it. She always did.

“He didn’t have it handled,” the young woman said flatly, placing three DVDs and a member card on the counter.

“I had it handled,” Tobey insisted while he scanned her card. “Sure, I could have used some backup from behind the counter but that’s not to dismiss the overall nature of the situation behind, generally, handled.”

Kurt set his sketch pad aside and fiddled with a television set on the counter. A low-quality video continued playing––it looked like someone had used a cheap video camera to record a movie theater screen.

The girl’s eyebrow went up. “Is that Star Wars?”

Tobey didn’t look. He didn’t have to since they’d been watching the bootleg on a loop for three days. “Yep.”

“The new one?”

“Uh-huh.”

“That just came out in theaters?”

Tobey looked up from scanning the DVDs. “Wow. You’re a regular Veronica Mars. Can’t slip anything past you.”

She all but rolled her eyes and he decided to dial back the sarcasm.

“Yes, Kurt downloaded it a few days ago,” Tobey explained. “I mean, yeah, I paid to see the first two prequels but there was no way in hell I was gonna be stupid enough to let George Fucking Lucas screw me out of another eight bucks for yet another pile of shit he so fondly refers to as epic Star Wars lore.”

“Isn’t that illegal?”

“It fucking should be.”

“I meant the downloading.”

Tobey held up the three DVDs. “I’m sorry, did you want to rent these movies—” he glanced at the computer screen, “––Alyssa Tanner of 9000 East Westmore Drive, apartment 263? Or is harassing me over my moral obligation to protest the misguided artistic values of a corrupt media empire entertainment enough for you?”

Kurt shot a sideways glance and muttered: “Misguided artistic values?!”

Alyssa shrugged indifferently. “I just thought that in light of your current career path, you might have a better appreciation for the damage caused by downloading movies illegally.”

Kurt put his feet back up on the counter as he turned his attention back to the sketch pad. “Here we go …”

“The damage I cause?!” The mock in Tobey’s outrage was mild at best. “What about the damage George Lucas caused with these blatant cash grabs? Have you seen all the advertisements for this one? He’s spending millions of dollars convincing the world that it’s the greatest film ever!”

“And you’re saying it’s not?”

“If it’s possible, this one is even worse than the last two combined,” Tobey said gravely.

“Dude,” Kurt said, pointing at the television. “It’s the Vader scene.”

Tobey’s hands went up. “Perfect!” To Alyssa: “This is what I’m talking about. This shit is fucking hilarious.”

Alyssa looked at the television as the bootleg copy of Revenge of the Sith played. Darth Vader found out that he killed his girlfriend, clomped around like Frankenstein and then cried out, ‘Nooooo!’

Tobey clicked the television off.

“The only good thing about this movie is that it’s so bad it’s funny,” he said. “We’ve been watching it for days and that Vader scene just keeps getting funnier.”

“You don’t think Lucas deserves a little credit for closing the loop on A New Hope?”

“Does Adolf Hitler deserve credit for closing the loop on World War II?”

“First of all, Hitler lost—”

“Which effectively closed the loop—”

“—and secondly, you’re comparing a movie to a war that literally killed tens of millions of people?!” Alyssa balked.

“I’m comparing three movies to a war that killed tens of millions––”

“Dude!” Kurt cut in.

Tobey sighed. “Fine. Okay. Maybe the prequels aren’t, like, genocide bad––”

“The fuck is wrong with you?”

“But they’re still pretty bad.”

At one point, not so long ago, Alyssa had been amused and slightly intrigued by Tobey’s acerbic banter.

That moment had passed.

An awkward silence clung to the air inside the video store. Alyssa glanced at the exit. Kurt’s pencil scratched at his sketch pad.

Tobey held up Alyssa’s rentals. “… you want your movies?”

She took them from Tobey. “Yeah. Thanks.”

She turned for the door and then stopped. “Um …”

“Three day rentals. Due back on Thursday.”

Alyssa turned back to the counter. She grimaced. “Actually, uh, that bootleg—”

Tobey held up a hand. “Wait. Are you saying—”

Alyssa shrugged half-heartedly.

“You wanna borrow my illegally downloaded copy of Revenge of the Sith?”

“I mean, if it’s so bad, you wouldn’t mind letting go of it for a few days,” Alyssa suggested. “Right?”

Tobey studied her grey eyes. There was something about this girl. He chewed his lip, thinking.

“Well?”

Tobey nodded slowly. “Okay, uh, lemme think of a creative way of saying this …” Tobey rubbed his chin and then raised an index finger to the sky. “Oh, I know!”

Tobey threw his hands in the air. “Nooooo!”

*

A VHS rewinder ground on old tape and Kurt cursed as he mashed the eject button, popping the machine open.

“Goddammit,” Kurt seethed. “Why the hell are we still stocking VHS?”

“Same reason we don’t open until four in the afternoon,” Tobey replied as he gathered an armful of DVDs to re-shelve.

“Because you’re too lazy to wake up in the morning?”

“No, because despite appearances, we’re here to serve our customers, Kurt,” Tobey said, strolling the aisles. “Working class Americans. The nine-to-fivers. People rent videos on their way home from work.” Tobey placed a DVD on the shelf. “Or in the middle of the night. There’s been studies. Or something.”

Kurt finished untangling the botched tape and tossed it into the trash. “So what you’re saying is that you’ve got a firm grasp on psychological makeup of our clientele.”

“I’m a savante that way.”

“An idiot savante, sure,” Kurt said with an eye roll.

Tobey placed another DVD. “People mock what they don’t understand.”

“So what about that girl, Alyssa?”

“Pretty sure nobody mocks her,” Tobey replied, scanning a shelf. “Fear her, maybe. Beauty is intimidating. Intelligence doubly so. Beauty and intelligence—”

“I meant her psychological makeup.”

Tobey shrugged absently. “If it’s anything like her physical makeup—”

Kurt sighed. “I mean: why does she come in so often? She was just here yesterday.”

Tobey glanced over at his long-time friend. “She had a two-day rental, Kurt,” he said flatly.

“And that explains why she was here for the past five days in a row, how exactly?” Kurt asked patiently.

Tobey pondered this half-heartedly. “She likes movies?”

Kurt went back to his sketch pad. “You’re an idiot.”

“I’m an idiot with a stalker, according to you,” Tobey said, shelving the last DVD and returning to his spot behind the counter.

“She’s not a stalker. She’s a nice girl.”

Naughty thoughts ran through Tobey’s head and his eyes went wide. “I bet she is.”

Kurt put his pencil down. “You know, people might actually like you if you weren’t so sarcastic all the time.”

“What are you talking about? People like me. You’re the one who pointed out that I have a stalker,” Tobey said. “Plus, you’re a person, too. You like me.”

Kurt tilted his hand back and forth. “Eh.”

Tobey shrugged indifferently. “Friends come and go. Porn is forever.”

“That sixty-inch TV in your bedroom working out well for you?”

Tobey turned and leaned against the counter, facing Kurt. “I watch it as I fall asleep so that I have pleasant dreams. Of vaginas.” Tobey spread his hands an arms-length apart. “Ten feet wide.”

“So what you’re saying is that the addition of the big-screen pornocopia has obviated any pressing need to actually be liked by the fairer sex?”

“Who needs to be liked when you have a stalker? Plus, there’s always Horatio.”

Kurt blinked. “Who the hell is Horatio?”

Tobey held up his left hand. “We have a very intimate relationship. He knows how to please me in ways that most women just don’t understand. And yes, the big screen pornocopia helps.”

The bell on the door jangled.

“A vagina ten feet wide?” Kurt asked.

“Ten feet wide.”

“You call your hand Horatio?”

“You spend all day drawing superheroes with their dongs out,” Tobey said.

Kurt nodded. “Point.”

“Good to see you’re being as professional as ever.” The voice came from the other side of the counter. It sounded tired and annoyed.

Tobey frowned and didn’t bother to turn around. He grabbed his film magazine. “You know what? Fuck off, my dude. I don’t have time for your shit right now.”

The man on the other side of the counter glanced around the empty video store. “I can see that,” he said. “These late hours of yours really keep the place hopping.”

Tobey sighed and deliberately turned around to face his older brother. “Fuck you very much, Walt.”

Tobey’s brother was two years older and looked about as tired as he sounded. A dark suit with a loosened tie, coifed hair grown limp, distinct bags under his eyes.

Walt help up his hands in a show of  surrender, car keys dangling from his right fingers. “Just here to drop the car off. I’ve got a guy coming first thing in the morning to detail it. Karen’s picking me up in a few minutes.”

Walt tossed the keys to Tobey. They hit him on the chest and bounced on the counter. They stared at each other for an awkward moment.

Kurt focused intently on giving She-Hulk a very large, very veiny cock.

“Uh, last I checked, I’m not your fucking valet, Walt,” Tobey said.

Walt sighed wearily. “I’m not asking you to be—”

“Cause you just up and threw those keys like––”

“Tobey, we need to talk.”

“I really can’t see why.”

“Can we just––”

“Get the fuck out of my store, Walter,” Tobey growled from across the counter.

Walt ran a hand through his hair. “… it’s gonna be five years next month.”

Kurt glanced up and could see Tobey visibly tense, clenching his fists. He promptly looked back down.

“Yeah, so?”

“So …” Walt said slowly as he nodded. “… I want you to come visit them with me.”

Walt tried to meet Tobey’s eyes but the anger shooting across from his brother was brutal.

“… I think it’ll be good for you, Tobe,” Walt said softly.

“No.”

“Tobey––”

“I haven’t gone yet,” Tobey spat out the words. “I’m not going to go and I’m certainly not ever going to go with you.”

“Tobe––”

Tobey cut him off. “Just get the fuck out, Walt. You can wait for Karen outside.”

“I want to talk about the store.”

Tobey’s hands went up. “There it is! Jesus fucking Christ. You lasted all of two minutes that time, Walter. When are you gonna give that one up? They left it to me, cut and dry.”

Kurt decided that She-Hulk’s cock wasn’t big enough and needed to be more throbby.

Tobey shot lasers at his brother. “… you don’t have anything to do with Videorama.”

“Yeah. Okay. You’re right,” Walt conceded. “I haven’t had anything to do with the store for a long time. But that’s not how I want it to be.”

“Well boo-fucking-hoo,” Tobey spat. “It’s not like you have a lot of options since, again, they left it to me, cut and dry.”

Walt straightened his shoulders and looked up, meeting his younger brother’s icy gaze. “Tobey,” he said, “I want to buy the store.”

Tobey’s anger kept his mouth moving before the words registered. “Don’t even fucking––wait––no––what?”

Walt swallowed. “I want to buy Videorama from you.”

For once, Tobey had absolutely nothing to say.

In the silence, Kurt’s pencil slipped through his fingers and clattered to the floor.

“Oh, nooooo,” Kurt said through a quiet grimace.

###

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jordan Krumbine is a professional video editor, digital artist, and creative wizard currently quarantined in Kissimmee, Florida. When not producing content for the likes of Visit Orlando, Orlando Sentinel, or AAA National, Jordan is probably yelling at a stubbornly defective Macbook keyboard, tracking creative projects in Trello, and animating quirky videos with LEGO and other various toys.

Leave a dollar in the Tip Jar: https://ko-fi.com/krumbine

Short stories: https://bit.ly/2XY5D7I Books on Amazon Kindle: https://amzn.to/3bsqK5Y YouTube: https://bit.ly/2W41nSG Twitter: https://bit.ly/2VH0Vbu Facebook: https://bit.ly/2VpnylZ LinkedIn: https://bit.ly/2xnmk1e

http://www.krumbco.com

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One:  The Dark Curse

Chapter 66:  The Art of Meddling

He could remember, long ago, when he'd first become the Dark One and understood he was immortal until the curse ended, wondering when he would begin to feel the weight of the years he'd lived on his shoulders. The answer was now. In the times when the world around him felt calm and easy, fleeting even, but his mind hummed with work to do, spells, even visions of the future that he realized just how old he was.

James was eight today. Eight years old already. It seemed like yesterday his father had stopped by, seeking help in finding the son he'd traded to the King and succeeding before the King had ordered him killed. Since then, poor David and his mother had begun to struggle again, but the Seer in the back of his mind had encouraged him to send work their way simply because "it wasn't time yet". There was something at work, something that he tried to focus on, and yet when he focused on the future, he saw Ruth in her hut and the False Prince at King George's side, just as he had been for nearly two years. It was a shame really that after James met and married Snow White, Regina would hate them both as much as they would. She had more in common with James than she would ever know. But for now, Snow White remained the object of her frustration, and it was good.

Over the years, he'd learned that there was an art to meddling in someone's life. Some individuals wanted and even needed their paths laid out for them on a silver platter. Those were the clients that he found himself most busy with. They were the ones who required little but specific tasks that kept his mind busy and his hands experimenting. But then there were the clients like Regina. In those situations, he thought of himself more like a clockmaker. It was his job to simply wind them up, meddle a little bit with gentle nudges and pushes when necessary, and then watch life unfold before them as he intended.

When he'd first met her, shy and quiet, even kind, were all words he'd used to describe her, and he'd prepared himself to have to meddle in her life a great deal to spur on the jealousy Regina felt toward Snow White. In the end, all she needed was nudging. A carefully placed comment here or there are his part was all that was required of him. Time was doing the rest. And while that pleased him enormously most of the time, sometimes, like tonight, it drove him mad with anger.

She was skipping her lesson. Again. Leopold had taken Snow White out on another tour, leaving Regina home alone, and for whatever reason, she'd decided not to come to him despite the plans they'd made. He knew she'd decided because it took all of two seconds for him to summon her image in his mirror and find her reclining at her seat at the table alone, sulking and scowling in the dark. She was petulant, reminding him of a hormonal teenager sometimes. Her sorcery skills were improving greatly. But along with it so was her confidence. She was beginning to question why she needed him and talk of growing more powerful than he was, a laughable goal. She was beginning to comb through her mother's old books and wonder if she couldn't teach herself, and if he was honest, more than once, he was tempted to let her; especially in those times she dared to ask what it would take to be more powerful than he. But he couldn't let her teach herself. The second he'd had the thought, Baelfire's face had come into his vision and he knew that was one thing he couldn't afford not to meddle in. The lessons he was teaching her were about to change. It wasn't lessons in sorcery she needed, though in a way she still did. Now it was simply lessons of life that he had to teach her lest she swerve and end up-

"Hey!"

A shudder nearly rocked through him at the sound of Jefferson screeching behind him. Another attempt to scare him born of a conversation they'd had a few months back. A conversation that he now regretted more than any other he'd ever had with the man.

"You jumped! I think I got you that time!" he declared, circling the tower and coming into view.

"Where have you been?" he growled at the boy. It had been a few weeks since Jefferson's last stop by. Though he felt very strongly it hadn't been enough time. The agreement he'd reached with Regina years ago to travel to her land was supposed to make stops like this less frequent; sometimes it didn't seem like it helped. It was only recently that Jefferson had met a girl, another realm jumper like himself that he'd made himself more scarce. Which was fine, so long as it didn't detract from the job he was meant to be doing.

"Wonderland. I brought you…" he reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of small crackers, then a large bottle of what appeared to be wine. "Food! But don't eat or drink it if you know what's good for you."

"Yes, yes, I'm well aware of what the cuisine of Wonderland does to the body. These are helpful, but not what I sent you out to seek. Have you, by any chance, found my curse?!"

"Oh! Yeah! Years ago! Did I forget to tell you?"

His heart didn't race, nor did it skip a beat as Jefferson jumped up onto one of the tables. He knew when he was being a caddy bastard, and he was now. Any other topic of conversation and he might have responded with the same kind of sarcasm he was offering, but not when it came to the curse. Jefferson's face fell and he rolled his eyes in the silence.

"No," he admitted. "Don't you think after all these years I would have told you if I did?"

"What you would do is sometimes beyond even my abilities to predict."

"Well then, let me assure you. Nothing so far. There were lots of people talking in Wonderland recently, and I thought I was on to something, thus why I was there so long, but it turns out the curse they were talking about was their Queen."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, calls herself the Queen of Hearts, wears a mask, only talks to her footman. Rumor is that she's something of a fan of ripping out hearts and keeping them in some kind of vault. Also, something about roses being red…or maybe white…can't quite remember that one. I don't know."

Queen of Hearts. A fan of ripping hearts out. Well…now he knew what Cora was doing with her time. He'd always known she'd gone to Wonderland, what she made of herself once she'd gotten there had remained a complete mystery up until now, but it appeared that Cora had finally become the Queen she'd always dreamed she would be. It wasn't surprising. Cora was enough of a conniving bitch; he didn't put much past her. But if Jefferson was there as his emissary…

With a sigh, he rose from his place at the spinning wheel and went to a special cupboard he kept a few handy and completed potions in. This one in particular might help Jefferson should he ever find himself face to face with Cora.

"Here…" he exclaimed plucking one with the picture of a human heart under it out of his rack and tossing it to him. He made a note to remember to make another one tomorrow. Jefferson caught the bottle and stared down at it in his hand. "That will ensure your heart stays in your chest."

Jefferson nodded and removed the top before glancing over at him and raising his eyebrows. "For a favor?" he asked.

"For a favor," he confirmed with a smile. Annoying as he was, and even though he'd been unsuccessful at finding his curse, Jefferson was still his most profitable alliance. That being said, the man was starting to acquire quite the debt. They'd made so many of these sorts of deals he'd lost count. He used magic to get the boy out of numerous scrapes before and always "for a favor". He had a sneaking suspicion that Jefferson thought it was all a joke of some kind. One day he'd be in for a surprise.

"Now go…I have a lesson to teach Regina."

"Aye, aye, Captain!" he saluted, hopping off the table. "I'm taking my girl out to the ball tonight anyway."

"The ball?!" he scoffed. "I wasn't aware of any balls tonight."

"Not in this realm," he shrugged. "Besides, it's not so much the ball we're looking forward to as the fancy crown they're keeping in their castle which will be left unguarded tonight. We've both got our eyes on that prize. Which of us will get it…that's all part of the fun! And really what kind of infant needs a crown, anyway?"

Without warning he felt something turn within him. The girl was one thing but plotting together as they were was another thing. He had a terrible feeling about it all but knew because of his character there was nothing he could say to make Jefferson see the light. Whatever the feeling meant he'd have to decipher it on his own.

"Careful with this girl, Jefferson. One dance can lead to another if you're not cautious."

"Oh, I know!" he smiled slyly. "I'm rather hoping that one kind of dance will lead to another kind…if you catch my drift."

He did, because it was exactly that kind of dance he rather thought Jefferson didn't need at the moment. Or at least he didn't need Jefferson to have it. The girl was already proving to be a distraction, and that was without being a pretty receptacle for his cock. He hated to see what might become of him if she managed to drag him to bed.

"At least attempt to stay out of trouble."

"Pfft!" he tutted, rolling his eyes. "Like I'd dream of trouble…night, Pops!" he called practically skipping down the stairs.

Pops. Jefferson had first called him that a few months ago. It was always in jest, usually when he corrected him about getting into trouble or staying out too late. Initially, he'd done it to mock how much he sounded like he was his father, but now that word was coming a little bit too easily. Perhaps Regina wasn't the only one who needed a lesson. He might need to knock Jefferson off his high horse and remind them that their relationship was one strictly born out of necessity and business, not because he actually cared for the realm jumper. He had eyes on one son and one son only, and that was Baelfire. There was no room in his heart for anything else and frankly, he was certain there wasn't a heart big enough, aside from Bae's, for him.

[paulvibe]

Just Friends - Part 5 (Paul McCartney x Reader

Words: 2.2k

Warnings: None

Summary: Paul takes you to Ringo’s birthday celebration, where you reunite with the boys.

Okay. Today was Ringo’s birthday party. You’ll be seeing the other Beatles, as well as many other famous, musically gifted people today. No big deal. Paul told you not to worry. They were just other people, but you know, it’s still nerve wracking to attend a party with people who’d you seen on TV, as well as in magazines.

“Are you still deciding what to wear?” Paul yelled from your kitchen. You stood in your bedroom, indeed, still trying to figure out your wardrobe.

“I want to look somewhat presentable!” You called back.

“(Y/N), You always look good, just throw on some pants and let’s go. George asked us to be somewhat early.” Paul’s voice was getting closer, indicating he was walking towards your room. You squeaked, and quickly closed the door, being half naked.

“Sorry, I’m still in my underwear.” You spoke through the door. You could hear Paul laugh.

“It’s not like I haven’t seen you like that before.” He recalled. You blushed, thinking about the many times Paul has seen you without clothes on. There was that time when you were kids and stripped down to play in the creek behind your parents home. And when he walked in on you changing when you were teens. Not to forget the dreadful moment where your dress got a rip in the seam and ended up completely tearing off thanks to the neighbors dog.

“I’m still not letting you in!” You replied, finally putting on a long flowing dress. You opened the door, and Paul stood with his arms folded while leaning against the wall. His eyes scanned you up and down, causing your stomach to twist delighted. His eyes finally met with yours and he grinned.

“You look beautiful. Are you ready?”

You nodded at his response, slipping on some sandals and grabbing your bag.

The ride to George’s home wasn’t too long. It was actually a beautiful drive through the countryside. Your nerves were starting to pick up, but Paul’s reassuring words kept you from exploding, as they always did. To think, it had only been two months since you and Paul reconnected. The two of you talk almost everyday, and he takes you to events. Thinking about it, you could see why people assumed you were a couple.

People always used to assume that you and Paul were together. I mean, to be fair, the things you would do together were coupley things. Like going on trips with the others family, spending nearly everyday together, sleeping over. Your eyes glanced over at Paul. His focus was on the road, occasionally glancing at the passing scenery. His hand gently tapped in time with the song that played on the radio, including the occasional hum of his voice. He was breathtaking.

You’d never realized how lucky you were to have become his friend in the first place. Millions of girls across the world wished they were you, and hoped that Paul would notice them. And here you were, sitting in the passenger seat of his car. You were awestruck. You did become friends long before he was famous, but still. He chose you, over millions of others.

You snapped back to reality as the tires of Paul’s car hit gravel. Your eyes looked around and George’s home came into view. A few cars already littered the driveway, indicating more people were here. Paul parked the car behind somebody else's and got out, opening your door as well. You grabbed his hand and he helped you up.

“This is gorgeous.” You mumbled, looking around the property. The garden was prime and in shape, the lawn was clean and trimmed, not a weed in sight. Blooms of multiple flowers covered the flower beds giving off various vibrant colors. The home was painted with color and design, the exact George vibe.

“I enjoy visiting here.” Paul responded, grabbing ahold of your hand and leading you to the entrance. The chatter of voices was getting louder as you were approaching the party. You squeezed Paul’s hand tighter.

“Oh, look who finally decided to show.” A voice spoke as you and Paul entered the home. You looked around for the voice and spotted John, with Yoko close by his side.

“Aye,” Paul responded. He led you two over to John. “John, do you remember (Y/N)?”

“You haven’t aged a day.” John smiled at you, holding his arms out for a hug. You chuckled and hugged him back.

“It’s lovely to see you John.” You responded. He looked well, his hair was long and uncut. Yoko was quiet, she gripped onto John’s arm tightly.

“How’ve you been?” He then asked, using his free hand to take a sip of his drink.

“You know,” You shrugged, “Normal, I guess.” John chuckled at your response.

“Paul wouldn't shut up about you after you two reconnected.” The man remarked. You smiled and looked at Paul, who was blushing.

“Has hasn’t huh?” You laughed, looking at the guilty man. The two of you chucked at Paul's embarrassment.

More people were starting to arrive, many people you didn't know. You and Paul hung around John and Yoko. George was busy attending to other guests, and hadn't come to talk to you guys yet. Pattie, George’s wife, was also busy making sure there was snacks and drinks for people. You and John chatted some more, he learned that you owned a bakery, and promised to stop by. Though he was only in town for Ringo’s birthday, since him and Yoko lived in New York now.

You could feel Paul's hand on the small of your back, his fingers gently massaged the spot. He introduced you to a few people you didn't know. Someone asked if you were together, which resulted in red faces and stuttering.

George's home was now filled with people, you were only waiting for Ringo to arrive.

“Okay, I think he’s here.” George called out, looking out of the curtains. Ringo then walked through the door.

“Surprise!” Everybody called out, making Ringo jump and then laugh.

“Oh, you lot!” He spoke. “You really didn't have to.”

“This was all George’s idea.” John spoke up, and gestured to George. Ringo went over and gave him a hug.

“Okay everybody, there's drinks and food, as well as outdoor games in the yard.” Pattie then spoke up. You were surprised she even spoke, she was so quiet.

Ringo was making his way through all the guests, greeting them individually. He arrived at you and Paul, a wide smile plastered across his face.

“How does it feel to be so old?” Paul joked, making Ringo laugh. Ringo playfully pushed Paul.

“I'll let you know when I break my hip sitting down.” Ringo responded. “Who's this little bird?”

“This is (Y/N), do you remember her from when we were young?” Paul asked, his grip tightened around your waist slightly, making your cheeks get hot.

“The lass you were in love with?” Ringo spoke, not realizing you and Paul weren't dating.

“In love?” You asked, playfully shocked. Paul's face heated up and he started to stutter out an excuse before Ringo clapped him on the shoulder and laughed while walking away.

The party raged on. Some of the guests pulled out guitars and started a music circle; a few people sang while others played an instrument. Paul has excused himself to go talk to some of the guests, but you decided to hang back by the food and drinks. You watched the man talk to several people, as though he knew them personally.

Paul's people ability always surprised you. He knew exactly what to say and do to charm the pants right off the person he was speaking to. It did help a lot when you were kids, and found yourself in a bind. You couldn't help but observe how handsome he looked today. His hair flopped in the usual paul way. He wore a t-shirt with some jeans, and gestured a lot while he spoke. You smiled softly watching him, feeling your chest get all warm. Maybe you did like Paul more than you'd like to admit. Maybe those feelings from when you were young never went away. But did Paul feel the same?

Paul has always been a touchy person. He loved to stand close to people, he loved to give hugs and handshakes. It hurt a little, to think that the touches between you two weren't personal. That could just be him being friendly. You shrugged off the negative feeling and grabbed yourself a small sandwich slice.

“Enjoying the party?” A voice spoke next to you. You looked over and smiled seeing George.

“You and Pattie killed it.” You replied, taking a bite from your sandwich.

“It’s really lovely to see you.” George spoke, mixing himself a drink. “Paul probably doesn’t want you to know this, but he really missed you. Even when Jane was around.” You didn’t know how to respond to the new information.

“I missed him too.” You responded, your gaze settled on Paul. He was laughing at something someone said. A little smile crept it’s way onto your face seeing him in so much joy. George patted you on the back before he left. You looked down at your feet, biting your lip. Paul had your heart, and there was no coming back from that.

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

The party was now slowly dying out. You had been there for over three hours. Most of the guests had left, leaving a small handful of people you didn’t know and the ex- Beatles. The sun was getting low, so all of you decided to step outside and have a bonfire. George prepared the fire, with the help of Ringo and Paul. You sat in a outdoor chair, next to where the fire was going to be.

The three of them goofed off, fake throwing lit matches at the others, as though they were all teenagers again. It made you warm to see them still acting like they did when you all were kids. It just shows that fame really didn’t change these boys. Finally, Ringo started the fire and everyone pulled a seat up next to it. George had his guitar and was strumming a few chords. Paul sat in the chair next to yours, and handed you a blanket.

“Beautiful evening.” Paul commented amongst the minor chatter. You nodded in agreement and adjusted the blanket over your lap.

“I've got marshmallows and sticks.” Pattie spoke up, setting a bag of marshmallows onto a table. People stood up and loaded their sticks. You sat behind and watched as they roasted, and burnt, their marshmallows. You listened to George play his guitar and sing some of his new music. It was enjoyable, it felt like you were all teenagers again, like they were just boys with big dreams.

All of you sat around the fire for an hour or so before people called it a night. John and Yoko were the first to go, followed by the stragglers. Ringo left, and then finally you and Paul.

“I’m glad you came today.” Paul spoke up. You two were currently on the drive home from the party. His hand left the steering wheel and gently rested on your knee.

“It was nice to see all the boys again.” You spoke, putting your hand on top of his.

“I think they missed you.” He commented, briefly removing his hand to turn down the radio. You shrugged at his remark.

“I think you missed me more than them.”

Paul cleared his throat and let out a slight chuckle. “If you think I missed you, Kitty, you’re crazy.” You adjusted your position, scooting closer to his person.

“Well, then I must be crazy.” You spoke softly, looking at the side of his face. He was focused on the road, occasionally glancing at you. His grip tightened around your hand. It gave you butterflies, being so close. Paul had always drove you crazy, from relentless teasing, and also how you felt about him. The feelings never went away, no matter how much you willed them to.

The drive was coming to an end as Paul parked outside of your apartment. The two of you got out and entered your home. You fell down onto the couch, taking your sandals off as well. Paul followed in behind, taking his shoes off by the door.

“Would you like a drink?” He asked, walking towards the kitchen. Even though this was your apartment, he still offered to do things for you.

“Please.” You responded, watching his figure grab two wine glasses and a bottle. He then made his way over to you and sat down.

“You know,” You began as Paul filled the glasses, “If you drink, I’m not letting you drive home.”

“Well, then you’ll just have to make a little room in your bed.” He winked, giving you the glass. You giggled and took a sip of the wine. You sat close enough on the couch that your legs touched. Personal space never existed when it came to you two. His hand once again rested on your knee, occasionally drawing a design with his fingers and slightly moving up your leg. You bit your lip and looked up into his eyes.

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” Paul began, but then the phone rang interrupting him.

“Oh, just a moment.” You said, standing up and setting the glass down. Paul watched you pick up the phone and answer. His heart softened looking at your features. Your hair was always done so perfectly, your outfits always matched and were cute. Even when you were in your bakery clothes.

Suddenly the receiver fell from your hands, and you stared blankly at Paul.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, setting his glass down and walking over to you.

“My dad died.”

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

Taglist: @starlight-and-moonshine @tarantinoandmetal Thank you for reading <3

[mimymomo]

Rejanis Royalty Forced Roommates AU Part II

Hello again! So I’m back way later than I originally planned...sorry about that, school really got the best of me so free time writing took the back burner. But hey I’m back now so hopefully the next parts will be up much sooner. So here’s the long waited part 2! The Angsty Part! Thank you @kleksuh for chatting with me last night while I wrote this.

( I noticed it looks different on mobile so sorry about that)

End of May

The day the girls move into the cabin was tense. The trek to the cabin is about 4 hours each direction so it takes a while. Neither girl would ever admit this but they both are nervous to see each other again after nearly 5 years.

Both kings agree to take their daughters to the cabin while the queens stay home. 

It’s a tearful goodbye on both ends but one daughter is much less noticeably upset about leaving

When the girls first arrived in the forest and see other each other for the first time they are stunned - they look the same yet vastly different:

Janis now forgoes her fancy princess dresses optioning for a short cream colored tunic with maroon trim and old embellishment that ends above her knees with brown leather belt buckled around right above her waist and boots.

Regina is wearing a long blue gown with a corset and long hanging sleeves plus her tiara (not great for the forest but whatever, she wants to look good. For who though? Well you know the answer but she’ll never admit that).

Both girls feel something in the pits of their stomachs, neither of them know what exactly it is but at the same time they don’t want to find out.

Behind some trees Karen pops out and tells the girls and company to follow her and she leads them deeper into the forest until she stops them and tells the group that only Janis, Regina, Damian and Gretchen can continue on from that point. The kings say goodbye to their daughters (well King Sarkisian does, King George just tells Regina to not embarrass the George family and to not forget who she is).

Karen gives the remaining 4 a vile of greenish liquid that they have to drink in order to see the cabin. I shall now explain how this potion works:

The cabin is charmed to be distorted to outsiders and can only be truly seen by individuals who have drank said potion

The person will also turn invisible/distorted to others who haven’t drank the potion

However the potion stops taking effect if the person is more than 100 yards (a little less than 92 meters) away from the cabin. Meaning the person will be visibly normal again and the cabin will not.

After walking a bit longer, including passing by a stream, they see in the distance what reminds them of a wall of tall trees and moss. When they get closer they discover a HUGE tree with the largest trunk they’ve ever in the middle of the trees. 

This tree is famously known as the Kingdoms Tree since it’s in the center of the forest and is thought to have the largest tree trunk in the world.

When they get closer they notice at the base of the trunk a maroon wooden door with a multi-colored glass window and golden handle sticking out on the side of the tree with vines and flowers growing on and out of it. 

The cabin is part of the tree. Oh shit, the cabin IS the TREE.

When Karen unlocks the door they discover that the cabin is huge and has 3 floors: the first floor (kitchen, dining room, living room space, closet and secret room (Karen’s lab) and a large beautiful chandelier), the second floor (5 bedrooms, 1 study, and 2 bathrooms on each end of the hall) and the rooftop lit by magical lamp posts. There’s even a horse stable at the back of the tree that you can reach through the backdoor in the kitchen.

Once the get settled in their rooms (on the right side is Janis, Damian and the study plus a small closet. On the left is Regina, Gretchen and Karen) it’s surprisingly quiet. And it stays that way - for maybe 2 days. 

THOSE 2 BICKER LIKE CRAZY!!! And it’s usually for really stupid stuff:

Who gets to use the bathroom first (there’s 2 bathrooms on the same floor…), who sits in what seat, what the other is wearing, plenty of name calling as well (you get the point)

The group immediately warms up to Karen- she’s kinda, to put it nicely, not the brightest and at first it concerns them all that she’s the one that’s supposed to be protecting them. But after talking to her and seeing her work her magic they come to trust her.

Janis and Damian also warms up to Gretchen pretty fast too.

Regina has been especially bitchy to Gretchen and Janis since moving to the cabin. And she spends most of her time in her room.

Janis spends most of her time on the roof looking the stars.

June

One day in early June after 2 straight weeks of arguing the girls get into their biggest fight yet. This time it’s about what happened 5 years ago.

The day started off well enough but it soon sours during breakfast. Janis is trying to throw grapes in Damian’s mouth and Regina speaks up:

“Why must you always be so childish?” “I don’t know Regina, why do you always have a stick up your ass?” And it just gets worse and worse from that.

“If you weren’t such a freak people would actually respect you!” “Maybe Regina if you quit being so bitchy for once and stop ruining everyone’s lives people would actually like you instead of fear you! But maybe being the worst is just in your dna. You do seem to have a knack for being a life ruiner.” “Oh god will please just get over that Jan-” “No! I won’t just “get over it”! You ruined my life and nearly started a war. It’s your fucking fault we’re stuck here in the first place!”

Regina is quiet and refuses to look at Janis in the eye, “you don’t know anything.” 

“You know what, fuck you!”

Janis decides after that she has had enough and a few days later along with Damian they sneak out in the middle of the night and begin their trip back home

But they don’t make it too far. They get just out the safety of the barrier before the run into band of drunk robbers, three of them to be exact. 

One of the guys is HUGE, bald and bulky, the other two (one with brown hair, other with blonde) are smaller but still quite impressive.

They start catcalling Janis and encircle the two

“Where’d you two think ya goin’?”

They try to leave peacefully but things start to get physical when the brown haired man grabs Janis’ wrist. Damian tries to intervene but the blonde guy punches him and forces the bald man to hold him down.

Things seem bad until: 

“Hey bastards! Let her go and leave before things get ugly.” Regina freaking George with her fencing sword.

A fight breaks out between the four with Regina, despite not practicing fencing is years, actually getting the upper hand. She gives the men plenty of cuts and bruises and knocks one out with the swords handle.

When she’s done she turns back to Janis who’s in complete shock. ‘Regina, fencing? And more importantly protecting her?’ 

“Janis are you okay?” “Uh, yeah…” “Okay then let’s get you and Damian bac-” CCRRAAACCCKKKK

Before anyone had noticed the bald guy had gotten up and thrown Regina with so much force her back flung into a nearby tree, the impact so loud you could hear the sound of cracking from the tree and Regina’s back.

Regina let out a scream. Janis tried to run towards the wailing girl but the man punches her so hard she falls down and can’t see straight. He stalks over to Regina and wraps his meaty hands around her neck and starts squeezing. Regina is slowly losing consciousness and her lungs are on fire. Things start turning black when she hears the sound of what sounds like Karen and the pressure around her neck is gone.

Karen cast a spell (do mages even cast spells? Whatever I my au she can do whatever I say) that debilitates the attacker and knocks him out. Gretchen and Damian tie the others up.

Janis rushes to Regina - she’s pale and each shallow breath is met with a wince. She looks like shit. 

“Karen, help! Regina’s barely breathing!”

Janis holds Regina still while Karen gives her a vile of dark indigo liquid. “There, that should help with the pain. We need to get her back to the cabin now.”

Damian, Janis and Gretchen help lift her and they race Regina back to the cabin. When they get back Karen treats Regina while Gretchen handles Janis and Damian. 

“Why did she come after us?”

“She heard you guys leaving, well we all did but Regina said she would bring you two back. When she was gonna for 10 minutes we decided to follow. Regina would never admit this but I could tell she was worried about you.”

“How can you tell? Why are you even concerned about her? She treats you like shit.”

“Look I've taken care of Regina for years now. You don't know how crazy her family is, how her father is...life isn’t perfect for her Janis. And yes, while I do wish that she was nicer, more than anything, I get see her in her in her highest of highs and lowest of lows. It puts things into perspective. And you want to know how I know she cares about you? It’s the way she looks at you. The way her eyes look whenever you were mentioned back at home. Always wide with melancholy and longing - and regret.

Gretchen gets up and begins to leave when she turns back around, “I lied earlier when I said we all heard you leave - it was Regina who discovered that. She was on her way to your room.”

“Why though?”

“You should ask her that yourself.”

Later Janis goes to Regina’s room and sees her asleep lying on her side facing away from the door, all bandaged up. Karen is leaving while she’s entering:

“Her back is pretty messed up but she should be okey dokey in a few days...probably.”

Janis walks over to Regina pulls a chair up to face her. Her eyes are closed, this time not as tight from pain.

She starts to inspect the rest of her face and sees a few cuts on her cheeks and below her eye. Lower down there’s bruises from the attackers hands around her neck. Regina’s not wearing a shirt but her chest and torso is all covered from the bandages plus a blanket. 

“Are you gonna say something or are you just gonna stare at my chest this whole time?”

Okay so she’s definitely not asleep.

Janis meets Regina’s eyes and in then she sees a bit of...fear?

They awkwardly talk about what just happened earlier that night and Janis asks why Regina came after her. 

“Because I had a feeling something bad would happen. Plus what would happen if you returned before they finished a treaty? Jeez you’re a damn idiot you know that?”

“So it wasn’t because you were worried about me, cause that’s what Gretchen thought.”

Regina focuses on the sheets below her when she mumbles out “of course I was fucking worried about you, too damn much for my liking.”

This just raises more questions for Janis: Regina was actually worried about her safety? Hearing someone tell her that is one thing but for it to come straight from Regina’s mouth is another entirely. “So why did you go to my room in the first place?”

“I’m only answering this because Karen’s potion is borderline a truth serum.” Janis knew she was lying but chose to indulge her. “I was going there to...apologize…”

“I’m sorry what did you say I couldn’t hear you?”

“Damn it apologize! I was there to apologize! Look if we’re going to make it through living here for...however long we’re stuck here we should at least try to be civil with each other. So I’m sorry, for being a huge bitch.”

Janis ends up apologizing as well for her behavior and thanks Regina for coming to save her. Janis swears Regina’s cheeks turn a dusty pink but maybe she’s just seeing things.

Janis starts to get out of the chair but Regina stops her by grabbing her hand. 

“Can you stay in here? Just for a bit longer?” Janis can see Regina struggling to keep her eyes open.

“Sure.”

It doesn’t take long before Regina is fast asleep, her hand still latched to Janis’.

Janis uses her other hand and brushes a few stray locks of blonde hair out of Regina’s face. 

“Goodnight sunshine.”

To Be Continued in Part III

[ickle-ronniekins]

on rainy days, george x reader

request: anon: Erica! can i request a George x reader with loads of angst and maybe some fighting?? can i submit my own prompts? Maybe like “we’re not just friends and you know it” and “why don’t you tell me why you really came here tonight” and “don’t you love me” OMG sorry this is long thanks girl i need some hp angst | another message per anon: actually wait can you take out the whole “friends” prompt i don’t like that thanks | omg stop i love this so much, sometimes we need some ruff stuff yaknow? like it can't all be makeout sessions in broom cupboards and fluffy “love u forever”s and shit like that so i am totally game to write this babe but dang hope it lives up to your expectations...kinda nervous now

prompt(s): “why don’t you tell me why you really came here tonight” / “don’t you love me”

warnings: um angst? fighting? maybe mention of war or something?

On rainy days, you think of him—the way his hair is always slightly messy, the way his eyes light up whenever a new invention makes its way into their shop, the way he’s always bloody happy and goofy...but soft, like his mother, and was not afraid to show it.

Today was one of those days.

You walked slowly through the light falling rain, careful to breathe in the beautiful scent of the earth mixed with rainwater. It had always been one of your favorite smells. You loved when it rained. Or, you used too. The last rainy day you could remember was the day he left, the day he told you no, the day the world seemed to come to a slow.

“You cannot do this,” he’d pleaded with you. His eyes were worried and tired, the same way your body felt in the heat of the moment.

“I’m going,” you’d told him, “and you can’t stop me.”

The impending war, and fighting in it, was never a discussion—it was always an argument. It was always too dangerous, too risky, too this, too that—but you were a grown woman and no individual would make decisions for you. He looked at you once more with begging eyes, but all you did was squeeze his shoulder.

“Then I’m sorry,” he said and moved slowly towards the door. “I can’t be here to watch.”

It was the price you chose. The love of one, or the love of many? Truthfully, you were doing this for him and all of your loved ones, but he just couldn’t see it that way. He wanted you safe, at home, holed up, away from the danger. But what good would that do if the danger would just find you there?

A few months after he’d left, death eaters stormed your home. Alone, terrified, and almost unprepared, it could have been awful—but somehow, someway, you’d managed to escape—your house burning to the ground, your Muggle parents, far away and safe somewhere, you’d hoped, nowhere near the war...nowhere near here.

You guess you understood where he was coming from. You’d shipped your parents off as quickly as you could. “For your own safety,” you’d told them. “I can take care of myself.”

You’d told him that, too, but he could not understand it. You pleaded with him just the same, to allow you to fight by his side, to promise to never let go of him. But instead, he needed to leave. And so he did.

Now, walking through the rain seemed to be more of a chore than something you enjoyed doing. The cool wind hit your back and sent chills down your spine. Was it the wind, or was it something else? You pulled your hat tighter over your ears, pulled your jacket closer to your body, and turned left into the Three Broomsticks.

You thought you’d prepared for it, but as prepared as you could be, it still wasn’t enough. Seeing him sitting there knocked the wind right out of you. His hair still messy, his eyes still sparkling, his smile still soft. It was all still there. And so were the feelings, of course.

His 6’3 frame swallowed you whole, just as it always had, and it took every ounce of strength you had not to cry, not to jump on him, not to yell at him, not to kiss him. Your feelings were bubbling to the surface, but so was your frustration and anger. It was all still there, right in front of you.

He kept his distance at first—a few feet from you, but it felt like miles. Millions of miles. “Hi,” he started with a shaky voice. “...you’re here.”

You wanted to say, “I’m home,” but instead you said, “I’m here.”

Because he had always been home to you. But now...

He began to move towards you, but you slowly backed away. No, you weren’t ready. You couldn’t fall into things exactly as they’d been before he’d left, before the war began. The pub was completely vacant except for the two of you. The pattering rain sounded so loud upon the rooftop.

“I missed you,” he told you. He seemed to be choosing his words carefully.

You said back, “Missed you, too,” and bit your lip, trying to hide an almost-smile. He broke and gave you a nervous grin, furrowed his brow and looked as though he was about to break down and cry. “George, I—”

“I couldn’t do it,” he said. You thought you could hear his heart pounding. “I didn’t want you to get hurt. I...I know you can take care of yourself, but it was hard.”

“Then why didn’t you just believe me?” You asked, emotions running high. You tried to hold it in, but couldn’t. Months of anger and sadness and confusion were making you explode. “Why didn’t you let me be with you, with all of you? I’ve studied, I’ve fought, I’ve done my time in school. Why not let me try?”

He swallowed over a lump in his throat. “It was dangerous. You and Ginny, it was just...too much.” He looked down at the ground and you noticed something not quite right underneath his hat. When you realized that he’d lost an ear, you ran towards him, your hands in his hair and on his shoulders. “I could’ve been with you, I could’ve helped you!” You cried. “This is what happens—things like this—”

“Exactly!” George said. His emotions were rising to the surface, too—the two of you like boiling pots of tea. “It could’ve been worse, or it could’ve been you! I didn’t want that! Mad-Eye died, d’you know what I’d do to myself if that had been you—”

You pushed on his chest and backed away, eyes filling to the brim with tears. The rain seemed to be falling heavier now. “And what if it was you? You’re lucky to be missing only a small part of yourself, George. What if you’d been taken away from all of us? Do you know how that would’ve felt to me if I’d heard it while sitting at home instead of out there, helping? At least I would’ve known that I did everything I possibly could, at least I would’ve been by your side—”

“It’s more than that!” He raised his voice.

“Oh, well then enlighten me, would you, Weasley? Why don’t you tell me why you really came here tonight?” You yelled, and the pub seemed to shake in your anger. “Because if it’s to tell me, again, not to fight, I won’t have it, you do not make my decisions for me—”

He grabbed you by the shoulders and cried out, “I’m here because I love you! I love you and I can’t do this without you anymore! This war, these things happening...it’s madness without you! These past few months have been...just terrible...” his voice trailed off in the sound of the storm.

You stood, silent, frozen, still in his embrace—eyes wide and heart pounding—waiting for more.

You watched the rise and fall of his chest which seemed to intensify by the second. His eyes were pleading again, the same pain glistening in them as the day he left. “Don’t you love me?”

Your heart was beating so thunderously, it was basically screaming your answer for you. You brought your hand to his cheek and let the tears fall. You noticed scratches and bruising all over him, and your heart ached for justice. You told him, “Of course I love you,”

He wrapped his arms around you so tightly, like he was surrendering to the entire world. Your whole entire body hurt in the entanglement, but you didn’t want to let go. You pulled fiercely on his shoulders and breathed in his scent. You ran your fingers through his hair. You felt the beating of his heart, thumping dramatically in sync with yours. The butterflies in your stomach danced around quicker when you heard a break in his voice when he choked out, “God, I love you.”

On rainy days, you think of him—the way he throws his hands around when he’s angry, the way his voice still trembles slightly even when he’s yelling, the way he cares so bloody deeply, it’s almost painful...and how he’s not afraid to show it.

Today was one of those days.

The two of you set foot towards the castle, better than yesterday, but not as good as you’d be tomorrow. There were wounds that needed time to heal, discussions that needed to be had, gallons of love that needed to be shared, not hidden. His hand was warm around yours in the freezing rain, the impending war on both of your minds. But feeling his body next to yours now, at least it felt alright. If he was next to you, fighting alongside you, then you were alright. You were home.

[deejayers]

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞ AND YOU BETTER SHUFFLE UNTIL ONE OF THOSE RAPS FINALLY COMES UP XD

YOUR WISH IS MY HAPPY COMMAND! XD

I shuffled too many times to count but I finally got Born Into Tyranny by J.T. Machinima and god bless do I love this fucking song! Hands down, top favorite line in that song is

Chasing a shadow, how's that been workin'?Can't catch a Kenway, you oughta learn itHidden beneath my hood's a purposeFirst things first, get off my turf bitch

If I’m not fully appreciating that line when it hits, I start the song over because the oomph on that damn line gets me hyped every single time. *v* Idk if you’ve listened to the many AssCreed raps that J.T. Machinima have put out but if not you so need to! Hell, most all of their game music is amazing as far as I’m concerned. All raps but awesome raps. I will link Born Into Tyranny because Connor, that’s why. *w*

And cause I have nothing better to do on this lovely day off, I’m gonna pick my favorite line from the next 20 shuffles because why not!! You’re gonna get a firsthand look at my wide range of genres. xD

I’ll italicize the lyrics and add bold to the particular lines I love the most.

Amen by Halestorm

But I won't runI'm not ashamedIt's gonna take more than this for me to break

Fireborn by JT Machinima and Andrea Storm Kaden

Hold onto hope, I'm homeward boundIn the darkest of night, there's Light to be foundWhen a hero is born of fireShine through the shadow of doubt

Cradle to the Grave by Five Finger Death Punch

The soul that lives within my chest(The soul that lives within my chest)Just won't allow me to turn out like the rest(Turn out like the rest)This heart that's driving me on and on and on(On and on and on)Has the same vision and it keeps me fucking strong

Bulletproof by Aviators

You can shoot me down, but you're never gonna hide the truth'Cause words are bulletproof

The Only One by Ra

So you just sit there stuckAfraid to risk realityThose words are mineAnd you can find them deep inside of me

Assassin’s Creed Rap Megamix by JT Machinima (fuck yeah, two of them!!!!)

I'm planting the seedOf the family treeBy my hand, minds are freedNot a man, I'm a creed

Livin’ On A Prayer by Bon Jovi

We've got to hold on to what we've gotIt doesn't make a difference if we make it or notWe've got each other and that's a lot for loveWe'll give it a shot

Faithless by Black Veil Brides

Live with defianceIt's time to fightDon't ever let them keep your words from being heard

Let It Go by George Strait (I couldn’t pick a single line in particular cause I just love the whole message of this song |D)

You never knowWhat’s waiting just up the roadSooner or later that sun’s gonna shineLuck will turn on a dimeSo when the good times roll let ‘em rollBut when they don’tLet it go

Move on, keep moving ‘til you see the lightThe one that you’ve been waiting onShining bright in the nightSaying hey there friend where the hell have you been

Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen

Mama, oh oh Didn't mean to make you cryIf I'm not back again this time tomorrowCarry on, carry on, as if nothing really matters

Any Man Of Mine by Shania Twain

Any man of mine better walk the lineBetter show me a teasin' squeezin' pleasin' kinda timeI need a man who knows, how the story goes

Bad Moon by Hollywood Undead

So take my hand nowI'll welcome you to my bad dreamUp in the clouds nowThat bad moon comes, and it grabs me

Guys Do It All The Time by Mindy McCready (pretty much the whole chorus is amazing so I won’t bold any of this one lmao I’d have to bold it all)

Guys do it all the timeAnd you expect us to understandWhen the shoe's on the other footYou know that's when it hits the fanGet over it, honey, life's a two way streetOr you won't be a man of mineSure I had some beers with the girls last nightGuys do it all the time

You look like you just took a long look in the mirrorTell me baby if things don't look a whole lot clearer

You Can Hang by JT Machinima

C'mon team, it's a four-on-oneSo until you stop breathing - you're not doneThank God this job comes with a lot of perksWhen you're stuck with a bunch of punks who don't wanna work'Cause we all got chores, let's do a little more pleaseI feel like a single mother - call me Mrs. VoorheesUsed to hide, now I thrive as a fighterDestiny's Child - I'm a survivor

Sick Individual by Halestorm

'Cause I'm a sick individualAnd I'm doing this thing called whatever the fuck I want, want, wantI'm unusualAin't taking no shit, gonna drink this sip 'till I'm gone, gone, goneI'm livin' it up, not giving a whatI'm livin' it up, not giving a whatSick individualAnd I'm doing this thing called whatever the fuck I want

Hypnotized by Set It Off (I have a burning love for this song for reasons pertaining to my brother’s ex-wife. I’d love to dedicate it to her.)

Listen carefully (Shhh)I know it’s hard for you (I know)You’re not quite used to vulgarity and verbal abuse (Get ready)Well first off fuck you and what you represent

Who’s Laughing Now by From Ashes to New

Back to the wall, I was afraid to act outFeeling so small, I'm scared and trapped, nowI'm standing up tall and don't plan to back down

Cowboy Casanova by Carrie Underwood

He looks like a cool drink of waterBut he's candy-coated miseryHe's the devil in disguiseA snake with blue eyesAnd he only comes out at night

Muckalee Creek Water by Luke Bryan

I'm free, and I'm meBeing everything that I wanna beNobody jacking with me,No sign of the city lightsHell with the city lights!

Independent Women, Pt. 1 by Destiny’s Child

I worked hard and sacrificed to get what I getLadies, it ain't easy being independentQuestion, how'd you like this knowledge that I broughtBragging on that cash that he gave you is to frontIf you're gonna brag make sure it's your money you flauntDepend on no-one else to give you what you want

Okay so this was a lot of fun and I thoroughly enjoyed shuffling around my playlist even if it did pull up a lot of the same bands. XD I had to do some extra shuffling so it wasn’t the same band or artist in a row a few good times. Like, I have a ton of Halestorm, FFDP, Luke Bryan, JT Machinima, George Strait, and Set It Off, amongst others. They kept popping up so I had to reshuffle. I hope you enjoy looking through this list of random ass songs and chunks of lyrics! XD