#our friendship is very dear to me and i hope we will still be exchanging messages and thoughts in the upcoming years 💕

[evergardenwall]

what i would ideally do on a friend outing with my different mutuals — tagged by @icemaiden 💌

• @nose-bl 🍄 : nose !! my beloved friend ! i think i would go to a botanical garden, or a nature museum, or an aquarium... or simply mushroom picking in the woods with you. 💕 regardless of the place we would be in, i like to think that we will always end up sitting somewhere to draw together in our little sketchbooks and talk about our lives.

• @reloaderror ☕️ : hans >:) i would crash at your greenhouse of a campus, and we’d have coffee together before you head to work on your master’s — kind of in the same energy as our past discord chats while you were at uni, but in person. then, later that day, when you are finished, we would sit at a table to draw, each of us focused on our respective pieces (parallel play ! 💕), and i’ll let you look at my sketchbooks.

• @sleepcities ❣️ : yves, my dear ! because you are an ancient and powerful being in need of as ancient and powerful trinkets, i would take you to secondhand, antique and thrift shops, looking for heart shaped items, daggers, shirts ... then we’d have a fresh drink in a cosy café, before going to take a walk in an art museum.

• @gods-nico 🦈 : nico !! hanging out in person with you would literally be so cool <3 i would be very happy to have ice cream and walk sasha with you at a park, and talk about heroes of olympus for hours. also, we’d figure out a way to see sharks (in an aquarium — do they have sharks in aquariums ? — or a documentary).

• @hammyletto 🐈 : okay, so, letto, i need you to know that if we ever get to meet in person, i would ask to see mushroom (the cat) 😌 but most importantly, i would love to stroll through the streets of some irish, english or french town, visiting bookstores, board games shops, and talking about north. and once we sit somewhere calm, i would ask you if we can listen to the first episode of the magnus archives together, sharing a earphones or something. [ note: this was written before we made plans to actually hang out together ASJDJS ]

• @spoopy-sloth🌵 : i can see us going to a library, getting street food, and drawing together at the same table :} 💕 i also would love to listen to you telling me about your projects and original characters !! also. your cats. i need to meet them.

• @teawiththespleen ☀️ : jay !! :D i would invite you at my place to meet the kitkats and see the garden...and we’d probably end up in the treehouse or on the swings. when we get to my room, i imagine you checking my books out and starting to read one that you would have picked randomly.

• @nejihguyas ✨ : we would go on a walk by the ocean, on a rocky path alongside a forest of pine trees, and if i could invite you at my place, we would sit at my back garden’s terrace, chatting until the middle of the night and looking at stars that appear in the sky one by one, or watching anime on the living room’s couch while eating slices of watermelon (do you like watermelon?) instead. i would love to discover the first episodes of naruto or princess tutu with you ! 💕

• and, on a final note, the cherished mutual who tagged me : @icemaiden 🐇 !! 💌 kaaju... i would invite you to have tea at my place; then we’d go on a walk outside during which i’d show you the little hidden alleys and public gardens in my town. sometimes we will remain silent, appreciating the environment and each other’s presence, listening to the wind in the trees, and other times we’ll rant enthusiastically about our interests. also i like to think that we would occasionally stop to pick some of the flowers that grow in the cracks of the sidewalk’s concrete :-)

#thank you for thinking of me and your wonderful hangout ideas <33 i am sincerely honored #our friendship is very dear to me and i hope we will still be exchanging messages and thoughts in the upcoming years 💕 #and @ everyone else i’ve tagged: i adore you guys and i hope you have a wonderful day 💌 #love u!!! #entries #fragments #mutualz

[theworldofotps]

Under The Mistletoe With Him

Pairing: Hook x OC Rose Word Count: 1, 527 Description: Rose goes on a trip down memory lane about having Tyler's name for the company gift exchange.

So, her birthday isn't till the 24th but we agreed to just post this now! So a very very early happy birthday to my dear friend @writtingrose I hope you enjoy your birthday fic love! So thankful for you and your friendship I love you bunches! Never forget how loved you are ❤️

Thank you so much to @omg-im-such-a-masochist for help getting the idea rolling because I couldn't choose between the choices, I created for myself. You're the best babes x ______ Tag List: @omg-im-such-a-masochist​ @melissahausen​ @new-zealand-chic @writtingrose​ @99hook @sjwrites22​ @sassymox​ @mrsacklesevansmgk​ @xladyxfatex​ @biforrollynch​ @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch​ @demonqueen29​ @itsicantbelievethis666​ @lilred91​ @rebellious-desires​ @claymorexpunisher @letsgivethisonemoreshot @ava-valerie​ @shortyiceheart @serpantscorpio8497​ @thatpanpal @thatnerdwriter @wrestlersownmyheart​ @vebner37​ @auburnwrites​ @aews-four-pillars​ @seeingstarks​ @whenimakeitshine1234​ @legit9thlunaticwarrior​ @blaquekitty​ @ironshamelessyouth @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @ripleyswhore @moonrosekk @xbreezymeadowsx @elevennbloom @melblacc @alliwant456  @mcreignsera If you wanna be added to the list lemme know. ______

“Baby, where do you want these bags of icing.”

Turning from the oven with a pan of fresh gingerbread cookies you point to the farthest corner of the counter.

“Over there please Ty, I want to be sure we have plenty of room to do this and hopefully we can avoid a big mess.”

Placing the icing bags on the counter he stood back watching his girlfriend lay them all out and then got bowls of small candies out.

“What are those for?”

“The cookies and if we manage to get around to decorating that house, now let me just put in this next batch of cookies. Then we can get started would you please put on some Christmas music? I have the playlist already set up on my phone.”

“Sure can.”

Using her spatula Rose carefully places each gingerbread person on the tray popping them in the oven and setting the timer. Wiping off her hands she grabs the pan with cookies already cooled, carrying them over to the counter where Tyler had gotten the music to play.

“Okay babe here we go decorate it however you want but please do try and not get icing all over I don’t want to run out.”

Tyler chuckled thinking about the last time they tried this and how more icing ended up on the two of them then on the cookies.

“Don’t worry I’ll behave.”

Pressing a kiss to her temple Tyler grabbed a cookie and picked a color to outline with. Rose watched him decorate, this was a moment she’d remember for the rest of her days. Picking up an icing bag she grabbed a cookie of her own to start decorating. The two silently worked for a few minutes listening to the music playing in the background as they enjoyed each other's company.

“You know something, this time of year always remind me of how our relationship started.”

Rose spoke softly as the memories from a few year prior played through her head causing her to smile.

“You mean that time I got caught under the mistletoe with your fine ass?”

He smirked leaning forward to steal a peck from her lips.

 “I can’t believe I got Tyler.”

“What’s wrong with having Tyler I imagine he’d be pretty simple to shop for.”

“That’s easy for you to say Orange you’re actually friends with him, he hates me.”

“He does not hate you.”

“Oh yes he does he’s always glaring in my direction and when I tried to be polite or say hi, he just walks away.”

“To be fair he does that with everyone he’s just not a super expressive guy when it comes to being at work. But trust me he’ll love whatever you get him even if he doesn’t say it out loud.”

James assured her as the two walked down the hallway, it was a week before their company gift exchange and Rose was still unsure of what to get Tyler. He was serious when he said that Tyler would love anything she bought given the fact he was absolutely smitten with her. Not that Rose would know that given Tyler’s silent nature at work and don’t mess with me attitude. But the whole locker room and even some of the women knew about his feelings for her.

“What am I going to do?”

“Why don’t you go ask his dad? It wouldn’t hurt to give that a try maybe he can help you think of something. It’s better than stressing yourself out more than you already are.”

“I hadn’t even thought of asking Taz, you’re brilliant I’ll text you later.”

Rose smiled before scurrying off hoping to find the man in question to ask for help with his son’s gift.

‘Please don’t let Tyler be around.’

She silently begged walking into the ring area where a few of the guys were doing some practice moves. Spotting Taz speaking with Jack she made her way over and gently tapped on his shoulder.

“Rose, nice to see you.”

“Hi um could I please speak with you in private about something?”

Relief flooded her when he nodded, excusing himself from the conversation with Jack, the two walked a little bit away from the ring.

“Sorry to disturb you but I need some help, I got Tyler’s name for the gift exchange, and I still haven’t been able to find anything for him. Could you maybe give me a couple ideas? I just want it to be something he’ll like and find useful or something.”

“Ah I was wondering who got him well I guess it depends, what’s the budget limit?”

“Actually, I don’t know I didn’t realize there was one.”

“Okay, something simple yet useful. How about a gift card somewhere? There’s this steak place he absolutely loves going to whenever we’re around. You can’t really go wrong with giving the kid food.”

“That’s a great idea um what’s the name of the restaurant?”

“STK it’s a steakhouse I’ll give you the directions just give me a moment.”

Rose smiled, nodding as she waited patiently for him to look up the directions and texted them to her phone.

“There just text me if you have any other questions and I’d be more than happy to help you out.”

“Thank you so much Taz I appreciate this.”

“Anytime kiddo.”

Leaving the ring area Rose went out to her car and after putting the address in her phone made her way to the restaurant. After getting the gift card she picked up one other thing then placed them in a gift bag. When the party night finally arrived, she nervously carried the bag inside looking around, spotting Renee she rushed over to her.

“Hey Ree where do we put the gift exchange bags?”

“Hi sweetie they changed it up this year, you’re just going to give the gift to whoever you have.”

“Oh gods.”

“Who do you have?”

“Hook.”

“He just got here about ten minutes ago he’s there by the snack table probably trying to find a bag of chips to eat. I’ll just text Jon that way he can tell Tyler to come over this way, so you don’t need to push through the crowd.”

Renee hooked her arm with Rose’s and led her away from the crowd off to the side where they wouldn’t be bumped into.

“Alright Jon is bringing him over don’t worry this is going to be great he’ll absolutely love whatever you decided to get him.”

Renee winked quickly walking away as Jon shoved Tyler over to her Rose covered her mouth to stifle a laugh at Tyler’s curse but cleared her throat when he looked at her. Holding the bag out she looked at the floor then up at him.

“I know we hardly ever talk but um I got your name in the gift exchange, so I got you this family size bag of chips and a gift card to a steak place your dad said you liked.”

She rambled letting him take the bag from her hand and opened it a slight smile crossing his face as he looked at the gifts.

“Thank you Rose.”

“How.. I didn’t know you knew my name.”

“Of course, I know you’re name why wouldn’t I?”

“Because we never talk, and I figured that you hated me given the fact you glare at me a whole lot.”

“Not glaring at you just the way I look is all.”

“Hey! You two instead of babbling to each other why don’t you look above your heads.”

Jon called out causing them both to look up seeing a spring of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling. Rose felt her heart pick up in speed as Tyler’s eyes seemed to darken when he looked back at her, a smirk crossing his face. Rasing a brow he stepped closer waiting for her to reject him.

“Is it okay?”

“Yes it is.”

Rose said a little too fast causing Tyler to laugh quietly before his lips pressed against her’s and she melted into the kiss.

“I still can’t believe you thought I hated you.”

“Well, you acted like you did you weren’t really throwing out smiles or talking to me apart from the occasional grunt here or there.”

“It was all just a show baby I didn’t know how to admit to the most beautiful girl that I had the hots for her.”

Tyler said as he washed his hands then dried them before he hugged Rose from behind kissing her cheek.

“It would have saved me a lotta stressing out if you had.”

“True but that doesn’t matter now because you’re mine and I don’t plan on letting this sweet ass go.”

He said, grabbing her hips and pulling her into him the two laughing as she turned around wrapping her arms around his neck.

“We need to finish these cookies and I just put a fresh batch in.”

“We have a couple minutes besides I don’t need that long.”

“You’re awfully cocky you know that?”

“It’s my speciality.”

Tyler smirked cupping her cheeks as he captured her lips in a kiss much similar to their first.

#aew hook #hook fanfiction #hook x oc #hook aew #holiday fics #tyler senerchia

[elliemarchetti]

Gwynriel Weeks Day 6

For this day of @gwynrielweeksofficial I would like to propose, in addition to a subversion of the usually male-driven realization of the mating bond, also a possible friendship between Gwyn and Elain. I hate when authors pit women against each other for the sake of a man, and both characters, who I find could get along extremely well, are very dear to me, so I hope you could enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it (on company time, so please don’t be mad if you find some mistakes).

Prompt: Mates

Words: 1021

Gwyn had never been very interested in the concept of mates before meeting Elain. Nesta's younger sister, but not the youngest of the Archerons, had the High Lord himself take her to the library to find out more about what could happen in case she decided to reject the bond tethering her to Lucien Vanserra and stayed at the House for a few nights, waking up early in the morning and going to bed late at night, her lovely button nose buried in the pages and her back bent over countless books. At first, Gwyn hadn’t approached her. Something had happened between the lady and Azriel, and although she had no right to be jealous, she had felt a note of annoyance at the idea. She had felt guilty, because the priestesses had taught her not to be possessive, and childish, since Azriel didn’t look at her like that, but in the end curiosity and kindness had won, and when Elain had asked her for help, they ended up chatting. She was different from how she had imagined her, not a warrior in the physical sense of the word, but a resilient creature, still torn between her mortal and Fae selves.

“I shouldn’t bore you with this nonsense,” she told her one afternoon, over a cup of hot tea. But Gwyn wasn’t bored, on the contrary, the more she listened, the more she understood about herself too. She had suffered a little when she saw her leave, declaring that her mind was clearer but she still needed to think before deciding, but she soon rejoiced when she saw her return, a basket full of apple and cinnamon biscuits, which she had told her were her favourites.

“I’ve realized I can’t choose if I don’t leave the Night Court’s comfort zone. Here every time I meet him I’m monitored, with Rhysand and Feyre watching my every move and Nesta and Azriel ready to slit his throat at the slightest hint of discomfort on my part. They don’t seem to understand ours isn’t a normal bond, and before establishing a relationship there will be moments of sadness to face together, embarrassing conversations that will have to be had in order to figure out if we want to continue in that direction, and maybe some mistakes will be necessary too to make things right,” she had said once they were alone.

“So you mean to leave?” Gwyn had asked, and unexpectedly she felt her heart tighten in her chest at the idea of losing her.

“Not permanently,” her new friend had replied, “and whenever I will return, I will come here to tell you about my travels and ask if you would like to join us. Rhysand would be thrilled to know that in addition to two emissaries, one of his spies would have free access to all Courts.”

Gwyn had blushed at that implication, she was still in the midst of her training and no one should know about it, but Elain had mentioned it so casually she had probably seen her succeed in one of her visions. They had never talked much about her powers, except when she told her she had seen images of her and her mate together, making her not particularly surprised when, on the third or fourth visit, she announced with a beaming expression that she had accepted the bond.

“I prepared a great dinner, and forced him to eat everything like a civilized being before approaching me,” she had told her, and they had laughed at the matter, exchanging the recipes mentioned and whispering like little girls who feared being caught discussing something forbidden when the details of the frenzy became obscener. Gwyn had never spoken that way to Emerie and Nesta, who knew what had happened to her in Sangravah, but she still found it refreshing, and it helped her delve into some of the more suggestive reading that her friends had never recommended to her. Not that she didn’t talk with Nesta about her relationship with Cassian, but the Lord of Bloodshed and her fellow Valkyrie were more tumultuous, caught up in constant bickering that ended in wild, noisy sex. It was a different bond, because they were different people than Elain and Lucien, all properness and secrecy, but they made her curious about other mated couples. The most obvious was the relationship between the High Lord and Lady, a connection based on sharing: he was part of her, they spoke telepathically, they flew together with those special wings only they possessed and they had a death pact, to go down the road to death at the same time. A little codependent, for Gwyn’s taste, but after all it wasn’t up to her to judge, since she didn’t have a mate of her own.

Obviously, like any girl, she had thought about the characteristics she would like her Cauldron chosen to have. A strong male but capable of infinite sweetness, who knew how to work with his hands and at the same time caress her as if she was the most fragile creature in the world. An intelligent Fae incapable of presumption, who listened to her talk endlessly about the things she had learned and in turn had something to teach her. She would’ve liked them to have shared interests, and she had revelled in the idea he was someone who didn’t constantly need external reassurance, someone who saw her and her truth as enough, but it was only a daydream, qualities she could’ve found in anyone and not necessary a mate, although every now and then the idea of belonging to someone who could understand her soul, she who had no certain roots and who had lost her entire family, intrigued her. But it was just a game, definitely not something she expected to find far from Prythian, in an unknown village, in the middle of a dangerous mission, in the form of the only non-foreign person within miles. A wave of panic washed over her at the overwhelming realization that Azriel Shadowsinger was her mate, and under no circumstances should he find out.

#gwynrielweeks2024 #azriel shadowsinger #gwyneth berdara #elucien #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #gwyn x elain frienship supremacy #gwyn doesn't like the high lord and lady that much #but i get it because they treated nesta pretty badly #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian

[wind-becomes-lightning]

Home for the Holidays

This is for the Hidden Shinobi Hideout Holiday exchange! <3 My gift goes to @kankuroplease!! I was soo lucky to draw my dear dear friend. Merry Christmas!

Dearest C. I'm so happy I had you for this end of year exchange so i can give you one last gift before the year ends! I am so very fortunate that you decided to conatct me in March and work with me, when I was until then just a big fan from afar. I used to be so intimidated by you and so scared to even send you messages even after we started collaborating. It is weird that I thought you are too proud to talk to most people and that I would just be abother, when in reality you really just want to be nerdy with other people. I had so much fun with you this year, when we were 3 and now that we are only 2 still. I am so proud to have you as a friend, so thankful to be able to rant to you for whatever I want to rant about, for every little drawing you've made for me during this year, for your company and support. I wish you a great Christmas Day today and hope we continue this friendship into the next year (and beyond!) Cant wait for our art collab and whatever we cook up together next. I love you, sending you many hugs. Thank you for being in my life.

Set in KPZ's Tattoo Shop / Yakuza AU

Aburame Shino X OC

very very brief mention of naru x saku x sasu and kaka x obi x rin

Rated T (alcohol mention)

6246 words

Back from her world travels in Japan Katsura runs into an old friend she hasn't seen in a while.

When Katsura opened the door and the little jingle went off to alert the members inside of another visitor, she couldn’t help but sigh at the wave of nostalgia radiating from the view of what was inside. The tattoo parlour looked exactly the way she had last seen it,  down to the black and red leather interior. This felt more like coming home than stepping foot into Konoha had.

What was different, however, was how empty it was. There was nothing of the usual hustle that came with clients, usually yakuza members, entering and leaving the parlour, demanding this tattoo or that. Katsura hadn’t been here often while she still lived in this part of the city, but often enough to get used to it.

Now there was only Sai sitting at his usual place, deeply focused on cleaning his usual work tools. Katsura didn’t know much about him, not beyond what Sakura had told her. Sai hadn’t gone to school with them and since she had mainly been travelling since graduation, she had never really met him except for in passing.

Most of the year Katsura found herself in the hot and humid climate of the south american rainforest or in the dry, cold and stormy mountains in north america. Sometimes she hiked through thick dark forests in central Europe and then, on occasion, she was also back in Asia like right now. And when she was in Asia, she often took at least one detour to Japan, until it took her to another continent again. Someone had to check up on her sister sometime, especially since she was living in such a dangerous territory.

“Hi,” Katsura said and stepped next to Sai. “Uh- ‘s Sakura around?”

Sai looked up and closed his eyes to a smile. “In the back,” he pointed to the door at the back of the studio. “But I would not go there right now.”

She considered this. On one hand the very limited things she knew about Sai told her that he was not going to lie about stuff like that. Sakura had said several times over the phone that the Sai was almost too brutally honest for his own good. If he wasn’t under Yamato’s and by extension Kakashi’s protection it could have landed him in a hotbed several times before. On the other hand Sakura had asked Katsura to come round at this exact time and might just be in the back getting ready to go out.

It was worth trying it out, she decided and nodded to Sai: “I’ll check anyway.” The other just shrugged his shoulders and went back to cleaning his tools.

The door to the backroom was only leaning and Katsura could easily push it open with a few fingers. She heard things before she saw them. The low hums and moans, the sucking noise that reminded her of a vacuum cleaner, the whispered words. Right then her fight or flight reflex kicked in and her brain violently went forward and back between just turning around or seeing what was going on.

If only the flight reflex had won. If only. Instead, she felt compelled to check. Katsura pushed the door open just a little more, a few more inches so she could look easier through it and then let out a gasp at the image in front of her eyes. Sakura was there indeed, sandwiched in the middle of what seemed to be Sasuke and Naruto. One had his head buried in her neck and one at her throat on the front. 

The gasp had been louder than she had intended to and Sakura’s eyes flew open and to the door, but Katsura had already turned on her heel. “I told you,” Sai said calmly as she ran by, but she didn’t feel it dignified an answer.

She was angry, flying with rage and shame. Sakura had been her friend since childhood, for years! She had told Katsura to come by at this time so they could play catchup, and then decided to engage in such things with those guys. Naruto especially always gave Katsura this ick that she could not explain. He was too excited for his own good, too oblivious at the world around him, naive to a fault. 

Uh, she should have known that these people knew no shame. When she was young, Katsura had stayed away from this parlour which was then owned by Naruto’s parents. They had already been notorious for the shady stuff that was going on there, so of course the new owner just let this business continue. It was also no surprise to her that the employees would be doing such disgusting things at the workplace, since they lacked any structure.

What was it with people and their excessive need to be horny all the time anyway? She had travelled all over the world and never met anyone that she felt incredibly drawn toward. Men could be handsome and women could be beautiful, but nobody was “I wish I could undress this person in a public place”- handsome or beautiful.

She stomped out of the store and back into the snow that lay heavy and thick in front of it. It was cold here in Konoha, way too cold for her that had just returned from South America without an adequate winter jacket. But in her defence, she did think that she was just meeting a friend for a lunch date and that would most likely happen inside. She didn’t think that she would have to spend so much time outside.

Distracted by her own anger she saw the wall only when her head was already crashing into it. A big, grey wall that had appeared right in the middle of the sidewalk. Katsura stumbled backward and then found herself steadied by an arm before her feet could slip on the ice. 

“I’m sorry, you seem to have crashed into me,” a male voice said in a low timber and Katsura looked up to realise the wall was not a wall at all, but just a very tall human man in a grey long coat. She hummed and then went back onto her feet with a mumbled thank you.

It took her a moment to recognise him, or better said, she only recognised him when she followed his chin up to the sunglasses on his nose. There was only one person she’d ever known who wore sunglasses inside the house. Well, two, him and his father. 

“Oh – It is you Shino,” she said and put her head on her neck to look up to him. Had he always been this incredibly tall? He seemed twice her height.

She couldn’t see his eyes moving underneath his shades but she imagined them narrowing as he scanned the length of her. “Katsura.” He said it like he had just decided on that name for her. Then: “Nice to see that you are back.”

Katsura waved with her hand. Shino and her had always had a very peculiar relationship. They had both been obsessed with bugs since they were kids, cataloguing and analysing them and hunting and freeing them and most of all defending them from annoying bug-haters. But he had slighted her as a kid, which she had never really forgiven him, no matter how nice he had turned out to be later.

“I was in Brazil”, she said. “Got myself a tan and a new tropical ladybug species.” She grinned. She couldn’t help but brag. 

He let out a low chuckle, which took her completely by surprise. “I’ve seen your pictures on social media. Congratulations, that was a great find.” 

Despite the cold her cheeks warmed. “T-Thanks.” She didn’t know what else to say.

“I’ve become an Entomologist too, but I specialise in Greater Japan or rather this area. Preservation rather than exploration.” A smile appeared on his face. “Though I can’t help but be a little jealous. That butterfly you found in the Rocky Mountains? Outstanding grey colours.”

Katsura huffed and shook her head. “Oh, I’m sure what you do is great too. Though - that butterfly really was incredibly interesting. Did you know it can survive even at lower altitudes?”

“I do now.” Shino put his hands in his pocket. She watched as she waved her arms to explain to him how this species specifically had adjusted so well to its surroundings and how it was- in fact - masterful in what it did. 

After a while her hands felt so cold that she shuddered, which did not escape his keen eyes, sunglasses or not. “I would love to hear more,” he said softly, “but maybe we should go inside. What do you think about going to a cafe?”

Caught off guard a little she stammered: “Uh- Uh, I had- a thing…” but then she remembered what Sakura was doing right now instead of their meeting and her eyes hardened for a moment. “Sure, I’d love to. I have all the time in the world.”

-

Shino picked a cafe at the very border of Uchiha territory, just a street down the Hyuuga were ruling the underworld. It was run by a local that Katsura did not know and was cosy enough to feel warm and homely even on a snowy, cold day like this. 

“Wow, what a lucky pick!” she said as she sat down in the big red seats. “A place like this is a real find.”

He took his coat off. “Yes, it is beautiful. I thought it would be perfect.”

Well any cafe would have been perfect really, she thought but didn’t say anything. 

Instead, she ordered a triple latte coffee because she really needed it after the day she’d had so far and all the jetlag still kind of pulled her underwater. Then she folded her fingers in front of her face and said: “Now, tell me about your job. What is your education? Did you go to University? What bugs are you raising?”

Shino smiled again at her barrage of questions and then he did something she had almost never seen him do: He took his sunglasses off.

This felt like that one time she had seen Kakashi-san without his surgical mask. This revelation that this part of Shino’s body actually existed and that the shades were not a permanent fixture on his face. Just that this time it felt a hundred times more incredible then when she had seen Kakashi.

His eyes were this deep, chocolate kind of brown, almost too incredible brown to be real. The light of the candle on the table was reflected in them like a mirage of light and Katsura had to immediately think of the million fireflies she had once seen on a tour in China. He was handsome with his hair combed back, the kind smile on his face and the shining eyes. 

“Is everything alright?” he asked and put his head to the side a little.

Katsura realised her mouth was hanging a little open and closed it quickly. “Yes, sorry..” She didn’t know what got into her. It took her more willpower than she wanted to admit to pull away from his face and remember what questions she had asked him. “So…”

“Right, about my education and work.” He smiled a little to himself, tipping lightly against the porcelain cup in front of him. “I am mostly working locally. We are growing some nearly extinct stag beetle species on our family compound, but so far the amount is still too little for them to be released into the wild…”

His low, calm voice and interesting topic of conversation lulled her a little, especially now that she felt warm and safe. While she was still intently listening, she wondered if he had always been this handsome or if he had just grown up to be. Shino had always been a person she had wanted to be close with, because his family was known to be specialists in insects, but for one reason or another it had never worked out. Mostly because he had slighted her as a kid and she could not forgive.

Turns out Shino did go to university and he had come out with a degree. This was not usual, especially not in their little, yakuza infested city. People often took up a trade that needed no education or straight up did crime. Katsura herself, as she told Shino as soon as he had finished telling his story, had left Konoha without any degree and just started travelling the world on her own merits. Working to earn money locally and then moving on. This way she had seen much more than she had ever planned.

“I’ve always wanted to go.” Shino said with a sigh. “It is incredible to work here where I am from and get to know more and more corners and such. But when I hear your stories it makes me feel like I want to get out more.”

Katsura took a sip of her coffee: “You could always join me on the next expedition.”

He smiled and she almost choked on her coffee accidentally. “I would love to go,” he said calmly. “But I don’t think it's possible.”

-

They had two more cups of coffee, way too much coffee if one was honest, and then Shino paid -for both of them. The weirdly intimate gesture had Katsura blush and when he held the door open so she could leave before him into the dark evening, she suddenly wondered if this entire thing had been something like a date. 

“I can walk you home still, if you want,” Shino offered and closed the zipper of his long coat. The shades were hiding his eyes again.

Katsura had never had a date before. Katsura had not even thought about dating before this But now Shino had invited her for coffee, he had brought her to a cosy place and asked her whereabouts and now he was trying to walk her home? That sure sounded like the end of a date.

She panicked. “Not necessary, I can find my way.” Her eyes avoided his face as much as they could while looking too suspicious. “T-Thanks for the coffee. Maybe I’ll see you around before I leave again.”

“Yes, hopefully,” she heard Shino say from behind as she was already walking away sternly, her heart hamming loud against her chest. 

-

Katsura walked back to her sister's apartment. For a moment she had wondered if she should go back and check the tattoo shop again, to see if Sakura had repented from letting her friend down in such a way as she had, but then Katsura decided against it. 

Aori also lived right at the border between Uchiha and Hyuuga district and worked on both sides of the metaphorical fence. Katsura felt like her hands were falling off from the cold as she entered the hallway and turned the key to get inside. Though she was rarely at home, Aori had obviously provided her with her own key anyway. More symbolic than practical.

There was noise coming from the kitchen. The slightly messy, stumbling steps of her sister were mixed up with the low, but always so incredibly loud voice of her boyfriend Might Gai, who, to Katsura’s endless misery, was around most of the evenings now.

It was not like Katsura hated Gai, he was connected enough to keep her sister safe enough and he was kind, and good to her, but his never relenting energy was a drag that Katsura was glad to flee from 96% of the year.

“Hello, young lady!” he waved at her as if she was a street away and not just standing right in front of him. “How was your meeting with your precious friend?”

Katsura let herself fall onto the tatami floor and put her feet under a blanket to warm them up. “She was busy,” she said shortly. “So I met with another old classmate of mine instead.”

She took a mini muffin from the table in front of her. Other than bugs, Katsura loved baking and since Aori could do a lot, but not that, she had spent the morning making muffins for all of them. Yes, even for Gai.

“Wonderful!” Gai let out. “It is great that you are still connected to all the people here. It is important to never forget your youth!”

Aori must have caught Katsura’s frown, because she interjected: “Which friend?”

“Aburame Shino.” Katsura bit into yet another muffin, most definitely spoiling her stomach for dinner, especially after the cakes she had had at the cafe.

“Oh, he is so nice.” Aori put her fingers together. “In summer he sometimes comes to the kindergarten I work at and instructs the children about fireflies and the like. He is really good at that. Very forthcoming and friendly…”

“And he looks quite good too..” Katsura mumbled.

“What?”

Katsura shook herself. “Nothing.”

Gai unfortunately apparently had ears like a bat and so he said: “I think Katsura just commented on the way young Shino has grown up quite handsome indeed.”

“Ah, really, Katsura?” Her sister couldn’t help but grin.

Katsura wasn’t going to take a lecture from Mrs has-a-crush-on-weird-guys so she shoved a few of her own made muffins into the pockets of her hoodie and got up with a “I’m not hungry right now.”

Aori yelled after her that they’d leave the stuff for her on the stove so she could eat later, but Katsura had already disappeared in the room that was currently her bedroom.

-

At night she dreamed about Shino, which was a bother.

In her dream, Shino took his sunglasses off again to look at her with the chocolate creamy eyes of his to ask her if he could accompany her on her travels. The her that was in the dream had blushed harder than Aori did when Gai gave her a compliment and had accepted with a loud stutter. Both things that were very unlike Katsura in many ways and when she woke up she was annoyed at herself.

Additionally, there were about 40 text messages from Sakura on her phone when she rolled over and picked it up. At least 30 “I’m sorry-s” and then 8 more messages asking Katsura for a new meetup time. The last two contained “I will just come by Aori-nee’s house in the morning before my shift” and then the last “I’ll be there at 10.” 

Katsura looked at the clock on her phone. It was 9.50. 

She peeled herself out of bed and took the quickest shower known to man to be ready on the couch with the tv running when the door opened and Sakura walked in. Her friend looked a little distressed.

“I’m so sorry!” Sakura said before she even said hello and threw herself down next to Katsura. “You know that feeling, when you think you can remember something without writing it down, but then you don’t remember? Well, that is not an excuse, but it is an explanation and I want you to know how deeply sorry I am.”

That had been about the gist of the 30 text messages too. Katsura let out a sigh. “It’s alright, I noticed you were - busy.”

When Sakura was shy she blushed like a school girl in a rom com, but when she was embarrassed her whole face turned red, right under the line of her cherry blossom hair. “The guys..” she mumbled, “... can be pretty distracting if there is nothing else to do. Especially when the adults are gone. I’m sure you get it.”

Katsura did not get it. What was so special about Uchiha Sasuke and especially Uzumaki Naruto that made them so irresistible? She had never understood how people in this town seemingly had such hots for each other all the time. She shook her head and then shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t, but it’s ok,”

Of course it was not ok for Sakure, who still looked very worried. “Sai told me only hours after you left. When I yelled at him and wanted to know why he didn’t tell me earlier, he said it was because I didn’t ask about it.” Sakura’s eyes hardened. “I will have to tell on him to Ino.”

“But in the end you were the one who forgot anyway. It’s not his fault.” Katsura raised a brow.

Sakura’s face fell once more. “You said you accept my apology.” She grabbed Katsura’s hand again and looked a little teary eyed.

Feeling like she had teased her old friend enough, Katsura smiled. “I do. I do. Look, you are here now and I see you are sorry. I mean, I ended up having a nice afternoon anyway.”

“Oh with Aori-nee?” Sakura also was smiling again.

“No, not with her. I ran into Shino.”

Sakura’s eyes widened a little. “Oh”, she said and it sounded like there was more weight behind the sound.

“Oh?” Katsura asked.

Her friend blinked and then found her usual friendly and calm facial expression again. “Oh I’m just surprised that it was him you ran into.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Did you do something nice?”

“He asked if I wanted to go to a cafe and we did. It was a tiny place, but very nice. We just talked and - why are you looking like this?” Sakura*s calm smile had somehow turned into a grin.

“It’s just… you know, Shino - his interests are so similar to yours, we always kind of thought you should be…close.”  Though Sakura had used much more diplomatic words, Katsura knew instantly what she meant with “close.” “But you just didn’t seem interested like that, which is of course alright. I have to admit though, that sometimes I felt like maybe he was.”

Katsura’s lip curled. Shino’s eyes appeared in her mind again, looking at her over the table, the way he had smiled while she talked, taking everything in with a calm she had never seen of anyone else. Had he possibly brought her there for some sort of date after all?

“Impossible,” she said, more to conclude her thoughts than as a reply.

Sakura shrugged her shoulders again. “I just think you guys would match, so maybe it is kind of wishful thinking on my part.”

“Seems like,” Katsura said, trying not to look into her friends’ face while her heartbeat felt so loud in her ears. “I mean its is like you said, I’m just not that kind of person.”

-

Christmas eve Katsura found herself squished between Aori and Sakura in a karaoke room that seemed way too small for the amount of people inside. In true cross generation fashion, Gai had invited all his friends, mostly Kakashi, his partners and Yamato, while Katsura had invited Sakura, who then had brought Sai, Naruto and Sasuke along. There were too many people in this hot room.

Alcohol had been flowing freely and now Gai, who had one arm wrapped around Aori, was singing passionately, his voice only lightly hitting the right notes. Katsura flinched each time his voice raised a little and wished it could just be Yamato signing again. She did not know the man well, but from the way he behaved and sounded he liked karaoke well enough and was good at it at least to some degree.

There was too much going on and it was hot plus the alcohol started to get to Katsura’s head too. When in foreign countries she sometimes drank with the locals, but not quite as much beer as here and not without eating a ton beforehand. She felt dizzy and tapped Sakura on the shoulder as if to say she was going to take a breather outside.

The room they were in was one of the largest of this newly opened karaoke place. It was in the centre of Uchiha district, not two streets from the tattoo shop Sakura worked at and was allegedly directly operated by Uchiha Shisui, who by all means would become Uchiha clan head someday. Katsura had asked Uchiha Obito, one of Kakashi’s partners, why Shisui, who had a reputation to be rather brutal in his underground activity, had decided to buy a karaoke place, but Obito had only shrugged and said: “Because he felt like it.”

Maybe it was a front for money laundering or whatever, Katsura thought and once again reminded herself not to stick her nose into things that weren’t hers to know. She wasn’t like Aori, who’s sense of righteousness made it almost impossible for her to turn a blind eye to injustice. Having Gai, who was strong, as a partner helped her only so much. Her good relations with Naruto and in extension Kakashi (also through Gai) kept her mostly safe.

Upstairs were the smaller rooms and Katsura came to a stop in front of one of them. Inside someone was passionately singing “Who let the dogs out” and howling in tune with the dog barks of the song. It made her laugh and with the alcohol having lowered her limit for embarrassment she stopped for a bit and howled along with the person singing inside.

She didn’t notice that the door had opened until a big figure suddenly threw a shadow on her face: “I didn’t know you were such a passionate singer.” It was Shino.

Katsura almost choked on her own spit trying to close her mouth fast. Of course, there was only one person that would passionately sing a song about dogs and howl along, Kiba, and if Shino was here now then that meant that the other person inside was probably Hinata. A Hyuuga deep in Uchiha territory. Times have really been peaceful lately.

“No, I just… thought it's a fun song,” she replied, feeling very suddenly and very unnecessarily hot. 

He smiled. “I didn’t know you were here either.”

“We are downstairs. I was just on my way to get some air.”

“So was I. Can I join you?” He gestured to the door and though she felt uneasy, Katsura nodded and then went ahead outside into the icy cold.

Shino was wearing his long coat again and though it was night out the sunglasses were right there on his eyes. Katsura caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection of the door and knew she looked a little red, but this could be put down to alcohol and heat, so there was nothing to worry about.

“You smoke?”  He asked and took a lighter out of his pocket. 

Katsura shook her head. “You?”

“No, I just have a lighter, if in case.” He let it sink back into his coat.

Then they both went quiet.

She sucked in the fresh air and tried to clear her mind a little, but despite the cold she could feel her fingers sweating. Shino leaned right next to her against the building wall, shoulder to shoulder, and somehow that made her more nervous than standing up and singing karaoke in front of Aori’s friends had.

“When will you leave again?” Shino asked friendly.

Katsura suddenly remembered the dream she had had, about him asking to come along. She pulled her shoulders up. “Day after tomorrow.” 

“Where to this time?”

Katsura weighed her head: “Australia.” 

Shino huffed in admiration. “Wow, there is so much to see there, I am a little envious of you for that.”

She really wanted to offer him to come along again, like she had that time in the cafe. But she remembered that he had said it was impossible and so why do it again anyway? Just to hear the same reply again? So instead of reaching out to him a second time she just hummed in agreement.

For a moment she could feel his eyes rest on the side of her face as if he was thinking of something intensely. In her mind she hoped that the blush she felt could pass up as her being cold. Then Shino laughed a little quietly: “But, well, the next few days I will spend time with my parents and siblings instead. Also not too bad.” 

Somehow she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was disappointed.

-

Gai was still asleep the next morning when Katsura and Aori sat opposite to each other at the breakfast table. He had a little much to drink the night before and needed a little more rest than the two women, not that Katsura’s head wasn’t also hammering violently.

She had just finished telling Aori of the encounter she had had the night before at the karaoke bar, which she had no time to talk about the night before. She was hesitating to tell her sister about her wish to ask Shino to come along with her on her travels. The sisters shared a lot with each other, but this seemed so weirdly personal.

“Hm, you keep running into Shino. Almost feels like destiny wants to tell you something.” Aori took a sip from her tea.

Katsura could feel the heat in her face again and looked away, hoping her sister hadn’t noticed. But Aori knew her sister too well to miss it. “Oh.” Aori chuckled.

“‘Oh’ again.” Katsura said, a little annoyed. “People keep saying that when I talk about Shino. It’s rude, you know.”

Her sister grinned: “Well, I guess there are other people who realise you have a crush on the guy.” Aori stopped exactly long enough so that Katsura’s cheeks could redden even deeper. “It’s no surprise really. You guys really would match well.” She made a face. “You have similar interests.”

“I don’t have a crush on him. He is just nice to me.”

Aori laughed. “Well if you want to live in denial.”

Katsura put her cup down, a little more aggressive than maybe necessary. “Just because you now have a  - well - “boyfriend”, does not mean you are the expert on love. You can’t even talk to him right when he compliments you.”

Now Aori was red too, but more of anger than embarrassment. She raised a brow in question. “Alright then Katsura.”

“Besides,” Katsura continued. “I’m leaving tomorrow. It is not like I would see him very often. Who knows when I’ll be back. And I can’t just ask him to come along so I can get to know him better.” She was rambling.

“Why not?” Aori asked, trying to hide her grin behind the cup of tea again.

“Because!” she shot back. “He told me he couldn't come with me the first time I asked and so how could I ask again?  He is busy, he has his students and his work and - and I don’t think he would be willing to spend time with me so I can figure my feelings- ” 

She stopped mid sentence, suddenly very aware of what she had just said out loud.

Aori finally set the cup back down. “So you have feelings for him.”

“I don’t know!” Katsura folded her arms in front of her body and pouted.

Her sister sighed. “I think you should ask him if he wants to come along with you. Or at least ask him why he said it’s impossible for him to come. So you understand if your feelings are returned or not.”  She reached out her hand and pressed Katsura’s. “But, of course, I am just your lame older sister that can’t talk to the guy that is her boyfriend.” Katsura laughed.

“Do you really think he might return these feelings?” Katsura pressed Aori’s hand now too.

“No choice but to ask him.

-

“Shino”, Katsura yelled after him, hands pressed into her burning sides. 

The man exchanged a look with his father and mother and then stopped while his parents walked on. It was heavily snowing now, Katsura could barely see him through the thick flakes.

“Did you run here?” He seemed worried.

She forced herself to look up: “It was no big deal.” Shino only raised his eyebrows at that, especially since she still couldn’t catch her breath.

The ice stung in her lungs. “I think I lost my -” she touched her throat and yes, her scarf was gone, but then she shook herself, “- Doesn’t matter, I have more important things to ask about.”

As she stood to regain her breath and her conviction she noticed that Shino had taken a step towards her so that he towered over her. Suddenly she felt something warm on her neck and when she looked up she realised that Shino had tied the ends of his own scarf around her back.

“You should keep warm otherwise you might get sick and miss your flight,” he said kindly.

Katsura felt her heart clench again and shuddered a little. “Th-Thanks.”

She straightened her back out, which didn’t help in any way because she was still much smaller than Shino was. He was so close to her now that she could feel his breathing on her face and it made her so uneasy that she felt like running away from him. But no, she reminded herself, Aori had told her this was all normal.

“Uh- Shino,” Katsura began trying to find the right words to say, “I wanted to ask you something.”

Shino smiled: “Go ahead.”

It wasn’t easy putting into words what she was feeling. To say “I have a crush on you” right now, especially after just having seen him for a few days, seemed so stupid and childish, even if it was true. She couldn’t be sure that he felt similar and that would just break her heart. She thought again how much easier her life had been when romantic feelings were just something that other people engaged in.

“Do- do you…” she stammered. “Do you maybe - uh -” His scarf next to her nose smelled like him and for a moment Katsura got sidetracked from the scent. Then she shook her head to ground herself back in reality: “If you would like to come with me to - to Australia, I would not m-mind working with you.”

That was by far the most diplomatic way she could have asked that without giving away too much of her feelings.

He seemed a little surprised, his mouth opening slightly and then closing just to open to a smile again. “That's a little spontaneous.”

“Yes, I know, I know. I wanted to ask you - before, but I c-couldn’t.” She looked at her feet again. “And last time you said it was impossible for you, so I didn’t want to be a bother…”

When she looked up she saw snow all over his hair, colouring the dark brown with white points like little bugs swarming around his head. He was also looking at her, as far as she could tell from where his shades were aimed at. Her fingers felt cold in the air but also sweaty with nerves. Nothing, he said nothing, as if he was trying to consider as carefully as he could.

But then he lifted his head to push snowflakes out of her hair. The intimate touch made her feel dizzy. “I have always wanted to leave this place,” he said without looking at her. “I always wanted to travel and see the world and research, but - more than that, I’ve for a long time wanted to travel with you.”

“W- -me?!” She wasn’t sure she had heard him right.

Shino chuckled again. That low rumble in his voice that she had heard at night in her dreams. He didn’t repeat what he said, instead he zipped down his coat and then drew Katsura in, pressing her against his own beating heart and wrapping her up in his arms.  

“That is why I at first said it would be impossible for me to go with you,” he explained. “Not when you don’t feel the way I do.”

That was when she realised that no, these feeling weren’t one sided at all

-

The snow had let up outside, but the world was still coated in white. “Here you go,” Shino said and handed Katsura a cup of coffee that she eagerly took into her hands. The airport was heated of course, but just watching the cold world outside made her feel cold too.

He settled in next to her and put his feet up over his on board luggage in front of him, his nose once again deeply in a magazine about newly published academy papers. KAtsura had teased him about it earlier in the day, that he was like a professor and Shino had only shrugged his shoulders and said that he was considering becoming a teacher, yes.

“I can’t believe you actually convinced your family to let you go”; Katsura said, for what felt like the 50th time today. It was true, she could hardly believe it.

Shino hummed. He seemed too tired now to repeat the line he had said all day when she had brought it up. “I’m an adult, they can’t stop me.”

Instead he reached out his hand to Katsura and found hers to wrap his fingers around. Her heart skipped a beat for a second, not yet used to this being a normal occurrence. Dating someone brought many new experiences.

“I’m glad it all worked out though,” he said finally, with his usual quiet smile. “I’m glad I get to go with you.”

Katsura leaned over, against his shoulder: “I’m happy you get to go with me.”

#fanfiction things #moots ocs #aburame shino #shino aburame #shino x oc #I HAD THIS IDEA BEOFRE YOU INFODUMBED THE TATTOO SHOP AU TO ME I SWEAR #it HELPED A LOT THO #also shino x katsura forever im so in love with them ahh

[typewriteringalaxy]

fanwork creators self rec, or your five favourite fics/art/podcast etc

thank you for the tag @letters-to-rosie 💕 your answer reminded me that The Fire Next Time has been on my tbr for too long and I need to rectify that lol. anyway here we go in chronological order

everything's better with a friend (Ekko/Jinx, E, 7/7)

my magnum opus so far! more than 85,000 words of an AU where Powder doesn't joins Silco but faces many of the struggles Jinx does. This fic just flowed right after watching Arcane, it was a joy both in creation and readers' reception. I'm particularly happy with Powder's pov and the relationship's progression. Healing isn't linear, and love alone isn't enough to heal, though it does help. That ended up being the theme, and I managed it fairly well in the story, as well as a happy, domestic timebomb ending💕

(I did hint at a sequel of sorts, and the idea still spins in my head. Maybe by the end of summer?)

With Less Inhibition (Astoria Greengrass/Blaise Zabini, E, 5/7)

This one can be read on its own despite being an AU of another fic, The Platinum Collar. Honestly I prefer it from TPC: Blaise's pov and the focus on their friendship's development made the story better. Astoria's letters were also very fun to write. With both of them minor characters in canon (and in a not respectable canon to boot), I had a lot of creative freedom in their characterisation, so this ship is very dear to me. Also this fic was written with @hypernovaesx 's love, enthusiasm and moodboards (Blastoria being our gondola💕) and I love it all the more for it. I haven't left it at a cliffhanger, rather the complete opposite. (And someday I will finish it.)

touch as a form of comfort (Tandy Bowen/Tyrone Johnson, E, oneshot)

I wrote this one after watching Cloak & Dagger Season 2, whose ending made me so happy and thus the fic is a happy memory too. It's short and sweet, going along with the finale's wholesome vibe. I hope to share longer fics for this ship too.

howling hearts (Rey/Ben Solo, T, 7/7)

I returned to my roots with this one lol. First time taking part in the RFFA Valentine's Exchange, I'm happy to have completed the fic within the deadline, and the Beauty and the Beast prompt with Rey as the Beast was really inspiring. Thus I wrote a feral, angry Beast Rey, a nerdy smuggler Ben Solo, a pack of Sith Wolves as the Knights of Ren, and had the opportunity to toy a bit with the reasoning behind the Beast's transformations. It was fun.

party girl (multiship, E, oneshot)

An exploration of Jinx that I'm proud of particularly since in all my other fics of her I either wrote her as Powder or somewhat downplayed her canon viciousness and sheer chaos. And she's a damn difficult character to pin down. Parings include: Jinx/Thieram, Caitlyn/Jinx, Ekko/Jinx.

tagging, if you'd like to play:

@hypernovaesx (if you're still on tumblr; you know I loved your stories before I started writing mine and I love you💕)

@blueinsomnia (curious about your favourite Firelight Stories)

@linearao3 (I've admired your writing from Kohelet to Child Ballad, curious about your favourites)

#tag game #typewriter fics #arcane #timebomb #blastoria #cloak & dagger #tyrondy #reylo #caitjinx #liquorbomb

[stardancerluv]

Can the Past Save the Future

Part 3

Summary: Arthur is reunited with his childhood friend.

Notes/Warning: Mutual pining, drinking to access (do not drink this much!) Flashback in italics! Old school, dated views of women…

Dilberry maker - foolish person (old English slang)

“It’s ok poppet that’s long behind the two of us now.” You gently urged your twin, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

“You’re right, you’re right.” Your twin pressed her lips together, and nodded. Finally, you looked up. It cut him deep to know it all still hurt you even though now, things were were worlds better. “Arthur, dear friend this is my twin brother, Y/N.”

Arthur’s brow furrowed. “Twin brother?”

You nodded, meeting your sister’s eye and sharing a nod, you picked up the story.

“Yes, I’m her twin.” You gave Arthur your most charming smile. Just looking at him fueled that smile.

“One spring when we were terribly young, I came down with scarlet fever.” You gave your twin’s shoulder a squeeze. “How she didn’t get it is beyond me, us. Because she kept on sneaking me sweets and her company.” Looking past those wondrous brown curls for a moment, he could practically feel how stifling that room had been. “I got it bad. But then one day, after a few very harsh days I finally recovered.”

“But, how…” Arthur’s brown eyes moved from you to your twin and back at you.

“Once I recovered mum and father sent me off to several places in the summer to grow physically and up here.” You tapped your temple. “Emily, got to let her imaginations run wild each summer while I grew into a little gentlemen.”

Arther nodded then. “So that is why I only ever ran around the county-side with Emily.”

“Yes. It got my mind off of almost losing my twin, my best friend.” You added quickly added. “I met you and it was almost like having him there. I’d write him and tell him all about you.” She shot you a look and smile.

A small smile curled his lips. “We did have some awfully good adventures.”

She nodded. “We did.”

Inhaling, this was certainly interesting. “I know my twin, is incredibly happy to have me back,” You gestured with your hand. “Which is another story entirely but the history you two share is great, why don’t you join us for our dinner.”

You watched as there was a small possibly polite waver in how Arthur stood.

“Yes, Arthur join us. I’ve missed you, our friendship.”

You could still see a possible wavering. “Arthur.” You smirked, remembering your earlier exchange how his carefree confidence had reeled you in when you walked up. “I’ll order the second best brandy.” You rose your eyebrows. “Since you already ordered the best.”

A chuckle, you could practically feel came from him, as he gave you that smile with the twist to it. “How can I say no to either offers.”

*******

His heart was thudding hard in his chest as he pulled off his hat, then slipped free of his coat. “Do you mind terribly if I lay my coat over yours?”

“Not at all.”

Quickly he placed his coat there and placed his hat on top. He soon the took a seat besides his childhood friend. Glancing across the table at you he marveled at the thought. You were her twin. How what an interesting twist to things.

Sitting across from you, he was able to enjoy glancing at you.

The barmaid came back promptly.

“Prepare a plate for our friend with the foods, I ordered. He had joined us.” Emily spoke first before smiling his way.

“It will be more.”

“That is not a problem. I would hope so.”

“Thank you.” Arthur nodded. “Emily, you have always been too kind.”

You returned his smile. “Only for friends.”

“And a bottle of your second best brandy.” He watched as you spoke. When you glanced over at him with an arched eyebrow, it caused a knot to form in his stomach. The touch of your fingertips till lingered, he mused in the fuzzy warmth of his head.

“Arthur,” Emily whispered like years gone past. “sitting here like this reminds me of when the cook would call us in and give us fresh goodies. Like warm rolls.” She nudged you, her eyes were bright. He smiled.

“Arthur! Emily! Come here!”

It had been a terribly drizzly day, but sitting under the willow watching some frogs jump in and out of the pond had been fun.

Hearing the kind voice of her cook, Emily jumped to her feet and dusted herself off. She then held out a hand to you. You did the same as her.

“Oh wait!” Her eyes were bright as she leaned in close. “Let me.” He nodded and then he felt as something gave from your hair.

He made a face, taking a step back. “Tell me it wasn’t another beetle.”

She giggled into her hand. “No! Just this. A large leaf!” You held it up.

“Don’t make call you two again.” A hearty laugh came from the cook.

“We’re coming.” Emily called back, she dropped the leaf and took his hand again. “Alright, let’s run for it.”

“Yes!”

Together running across the large field, panting you both reached the door.

She wiped her hands on her apron. “Wipe those shoes, you little rascals and come in.”

He chuckled. Emily’s cook was so much nicer then his. You both knew to then go and sit at the small tucked away in the corner.

“What do you think she has for us?” He whispered.

“Maybe a tart.” Emily had whispered back.

“Fresh rolls and butter.” She smiled, placing a plate in front of the two of you. “The tarts are for after dinner.” She winked. “Yes, Arthur your mum is having you and Amelia come over for dinner while adults will be playing cards and some such thing.”

“Tarts!” You both gave a cheer before tearing the rolls open and smothering it with the soft butter.

“Your fresh bread and butter sir.” The barmaid, startled him away from the past, he sat back.

He looked up at the barmaid, her expression was blank. “Thank you.” He replied flatly.

******

The bottle and glasses clinked when the barmaid placed them beside in front of him. Lining up the glasses, glanced over at his twin’s friend.

He may not have the air that had surrounded him earlier, but he was still quite a delight on the eyes. “I still have to finish what you gave me but I am interested to see what this tastes like.”

“Oh, is he who you went over to?”

Inwardly, you groaned. Your twin was well your twin and sure she went well but now she may make you look like a fool.

“Yes, poppet it is.” You gave her a sidelong glance as you poured.

“Ahh ok.” She then happily nibbled away at her toast.

“This is pretty good Emily.” Arthur added. “Though not as good as the hot rolls or tarts your cook made us.”

“Mrs. Cratchit makes the best stuff.” She pressed her lips together and nodded. “She was a good chef. She was so kind to us.”

He smiled and nodded. “She was, remember when she saved my dignity the day I slipped in the mud?”

Emily rolled her eyes, “Do I? Luckily we had some of pupper’s clothes for the few days he had come to the country estate before going on to Dublin.” She reached over and squeezed your arm.

“Pupper, I can’t.” She put a hand out. “Really, I couldn’t possibly.” Your twin leaned in, “It would be scandalous for me to be seen drinking with two men. One my brother and one that is close to my age.” She whispered.

“Ignore their looks and thoughts. Arthur, won’t think less of you and of course nor will I.”

She made a face. “Pupper, seriously.” You shifted.

“They are all dilbery makers.”

You giggled into your hand. “Oh Poppet, ok but one drink.” She finally relented.

*****

“Oh!” You chuckled easily. “It really decided to come down didn’t it?” You struggled to slip on your coat, while looking at the heavy snowflakes that fell from the sky. A smile played on your lips. You could see why your sister had become friends with him.

You had not had that much of the brandy; had you? The struggle of getting into the coat became stronger. Then looking over at Arthur, you realized what happened. Now it all made sense.

“I will get us a coach.” Your twin announced.

There were a few nearby so you kept an eye on her, while you walked the short distance over to Arthur. Who was trying to straighten his hat.

“Tell me Arthur, are you still comfortable in my clothes?” He came and stood close to him.

The look he gave him was of confusion and then he really looked at what he had slipped into.

“Oh! It did feel a bit big.” He chuckled as he weaved towards you.

“Looks not terrible on you. But I had been worried..” Your voice trailed off as your twin called attention to the coach.

You giggled as you came over. “I got us a coach, come along you two.”

Arthur held up a hand. “I’ll find my own.”

“Nonesense. It is terribly late and if I remember the house you share with your sister is across the city.”

Arthur shrugged.

“We’re not terribly far and have plenty of rooms.” Your twin reasoned.

She did the unthinkable. Honestly, you were not sure if it was the brandy in her, the nostalgia or a bit of both. But she looped her arms with both of you. You grew completely mortified. Yet, another part of you hoped it swayed Arthur. You were very warm and fuzzy, despite the heavy snow falling around you. And at this moment, you truly didn’t want to part from him just yet. “No arguing Arthur.” You chimed in.

“Really, I mustn’t.” Though as he spoke a crooked smile spread across his face. “Unless you insist.” He glanced at you.

“I do.” You replied with your own smirk.

#joseph quinn #arthur havisham #dickensian #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn fluff #joseph quinn angst #arthur havisham imagine #arthur havisham fanfiction #arthur havisham x y/n #arthur havisham x you #arthur havisham x male reader #dickensian fanfiction #dickensian fanfic #dickensian imagine #can the past save the future #part 3 #joe quinn

[tishalfdeadwaffles]

Dear Childhood best friend, childhood soul sister, and my name and month twin,

it’s been years since we last saw each other, so many since we had our last video call, voice call or a long midnight conversation. Every single day I convince myself that each of us has gone different paths now in ways that were out of our hands, and our last, awkward chat was when the exam results came out months ago.

I miss you, very very terribly, to a point where I am in tears whilst writing this message that will never reach you. I was excited that you might send me a happy birthday text when it was my turn, but I found none, which really shattered my heart in ways I couldn’t expect, because it was the only constant between us all the time we were apart. The birthday messages used to be huge and moved me to tears, but the last few years they never exceeded two lines. And that’s ok.

my thoughts drift back to more than a decade ago, when both of us were neighbors, and the excitement we felt when we learned that we go to the same school, our parents work in the same hospital, we share the same name and same birthday month of the same year is unforgettable. It felt like I found the twin I never had. You never had a sister and I never had one, so we called ourselves soul sisters. And it was the only good thing In uncountable bad days.

we’d exchange handwritten letters and leave them by the doors of our houses, and I think I have all of the ones you returned. We made crocheted bracelets and denim bags together, played Roblox and monopoly and uno and snake and ladder and many other things. We went together to taraweeh prayer in Ramadan and after it we stayed together until after midnight either at my house or yours. I had dinner at your house many times, and considered cereal as dinner to be a treat. You listened to me when I had no one to turn to, you were my only constant friend I kept contact with when I moved from the school we were in. The year I returned, it felt really strange. You weren’t there anymore. We couldn’t meet up in break times and hang out together. Even though I still know other people there, you not being at the school was certainly something I couldn’t get over.

it wasn’t our choice at all that you had to move to a different country. It would mean that you’d go to a new school and make new friends and become a whole other person, and I knew that. And yet it still hurts to think about it. I have my own friend group and you probably have yours now, but that doesn’t change how much I miss us.

we fought so many times as kids and decided to not talk to each other again “forever”, but five minutes later we’re back as if nothing happened. We were so so different- you the smart, straight A student with perfect discipline and behavior and I, the hyperactive trouble kid of our grade who never follows the rules. An odd friendship, but one I treasure, despite the amount of times my mother compared me to you.

I don’t know how you feel about this all, whether I’m the only one with those feelings or not. And the distance between us has grown too much to indulge in such conversations anymore. I keep gazing at the gift bags you made me and the letters and birthday cards, all of them tucked safely in the box where I let our memories rest.

I hope you are well and alright, that you found trustworthy friends that you hangout with and feel comfortable around. I pray that you aren’t as lonely inside as I feel everyday even when surrounded by others. I hope you don’t ever experience depression and lasting anxiety. I hope you are now used to the new country you’re in and that you feel more at home.

and lastly, happy birthday, my dear June, the one and only I ever gave that nickname to.

your first friend, and childhood bestie,

me

[20/11/2022]

#Personal #I was genuinely crying #it’s been so long

[iliveiloveiwrite]

I find myself travelling back to you // Simon Basset

Request: Could you possibly write a Simon Basset fic where maybe the reader is like a childhood friend and he bumps into them and they talk and catch up with maybe some romance or something - anon

A/N: My first Simon fic! I am a little uncertain of this as I am not sure whether I have Simon’s character down yet. I hope you all like! Thank you for requesting, I hope I have done it justice.

Pairing: Simon Basset x Fem!Reader

Warnings: childhood friends, pining, mutual pining, fluff, some angst, she/her pronouns, female reader.

Word count: 3.8k

There was not a cloud in the sky as you made your way through Mayfair after having turned down a carriage. Instead, you chose to walk away the morning, happy to feel the warmth of the sun through the layers of your dress.

The streets had started out as quiet; a few souls here and there, but they soon grew busier and busier as routines were started. Dodging bodies here and there, you found it hard to be annoyed at the crowds – the weather too perfect for your mood to be sullied.

A flash of deep red amongst the crowd has your eyes and body on alert; the sound of a deep voice has your ears pricking. “Simon?” You call out, eyebrows furrowing as you spy a familiar head of hair making their way through the crowds.

“(Y/N)?” The man in question answers, eyes wide as he takes in your form.

“It’s been so long,” You whisper, staring into his brown eyes. “I suppose I should call you ‘Your Grace’ now. I was sorry to hear of the passing of your father,” You comment softly, not overly sorry for the death of the man who had mistreated his son so poorly but offering your condolences as a form of social etiquette.

Nodding his head, Simon smiles at you. “Thank you,” He gestures to the elderly lady on his arm, “I am sure you remember Lady Danbury.”

You smile widely at the elderly lady as she grins back at you. “Of course I do,” You laugh, “We meet at least once a week to have tea.”

If possible, Simon’s eyes grow wider to the point where Lady Danbury snorts. “Really now, Simon. Did you expect us ladies to go our separate ways when you left the country?”

“Of course not,” Simon drawls, amused by the elder. “I just didn’t realise you had a close relationship.”

“Well we do. That reminds me,” Lady Danbury pipes up, “I will not be able to make our tea appointment this week, dear (Y/N). My grandson, Gareth, is visiting.”

“Of course, Lady Danbury. We can always rearrange to the following week.”

“Nonsense,” She declares, slamming her cane onto the ground, “Simon will meet with you.”

Casting your gaze to the tall gentleman, it is not hard to miss to the surprise in his eyes. Shaking your head, you state, “I am sure the Duke has more pressing issues than tea with an old friend.”

Lady Danbury opens her mouth to protest your point but is beaten by the Duke. “I have nothing so pressing that cannot be rearranged. I shall meet you tomorrow, I assume Lady Danbury knows the spot.”

With a nod of your head, Simon smiles. He reaches out, grabbing your gloved hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. “Until tomorrow then,” He promises, stepping away from you with Lady Danbury in tow.

“Until tomorrow,” You whisper, watching the strong figure of your childhood friend walk away from you.

Glancing up at the still cloudless sky, you wonder how it is possible that the world keeps spinning when your own has changed so much. Simon left the country years ago, and even then, contact with the man was few and far between. He had left for school and seemingly left you behind. The very fact that he was happy to have tea with you sent shockwaves through your body; not a word for so many years and then this out of the blue.

Now glaring at the sky, you wonder whether there wasn’t a larger game afoot. One that had you reuniting with the childhood love that had left you a bereft teenager; it had you hoping you would not be left a heartbroken adult.

------

The pleasant weather was to continue, you thought to yourself as you sat down in the drawing room. Despite the calmness of the room; the sweet sound birdsong outside of your window, your stomach would not calm. Instead, it was threatening to make a mockery of your breakfast. A missive had arrived late yesterday evening from Lady Danbury explaining that Simon would indeed be calling on you for the promised tea.

Smoothing out your pale blue skirts, you wish desperately that you had brought something to keep you occupied as you wait for his imminent arrival. You curse the fact that you left your latest cross-stitch upstairs in your room, having worked on it late into the night. You could have used it to the pass the time to keep your mind busy.

“The Duke of Hastings,” The butler announces, startling you slightly, stepping aside for Simon to stride into the room.

Simon smiles widely as he spots you standing by the table; he rushes over to you, reaching for your hand, placing a lingering kiss to the back of it before straightening. “(Y/N),” He greets, breathless as if he had rushed all the way over here.

“Simon,” You answer, smiling just as widely.

Following his lead, you take a seat at the table, waiting for the tea service to be brought up.

“How is Lady Danbury?” You question, trying to fill the time for the service to arrive.

Simon laughs. “It seems she is on the warpath. Her grandson, Gareth, arrived this morning still out of sorts from the previous night.”

“No!” You gasp, “He’s barely of age!”

“That is what dear Lady Danbury was reminding poor Gareth as she swung her cane at him. I thought I better leave before her attention and her cane turned to me.”

“A good decision to have made.”

“Definitely,” Simon agrees, “As I was leaving, Gareth was promising his grandmother not to touch another drop of alcohol again though I doubt that promise will stick.”

“Poor Gareth,” You lament, thinking of the times you had been on receiving end of a lecture from Lady Danbury. “She does love him so though.”

“She does,” Simon states, “I remember his birth. It feels so long ago.”

You hum in agreement; wondering how quick time had flown by. Gareth was to be part of the next generation of society; he was to bring it into its future, especially if his grandmother had anything to say about it.

“How long have you been home?” You ask, pouring the both of you some tea now that it had arrived.

“I travelled to Clyvedon to settle things there before journeying down to London. I’ve been back in England just short of a month.”

“Oh,” You murmur, trying your best not to feel hurt that he hadn’t actively sought you out. After all, it had been years since you had last spoken. No correspondence had been exchanged throughout the duration of his travels; Lady Danbury had been the one to update you on where Simon was in the world. He hadn’t written you a single letter despite the long friendship that you still held dear. Instead, it had been an utter coincidence, a meeting in the streets that had proved to you he was still alive and breathing.

“I wanted to come see you,” Simon states, feeling bad about the broken sound that had left your mouth just now. He wasn’t one to talk so openly about his feelings, but he found himself needing to explain to you that he hadn’t stopped thinking of you since he stepped foot on English soil.

“Did you?” You question, sounding very much as if you did not believe a word leaving his mouth. By the unimpressed expression on your face, Simon knew you did not believe him.

“I did, but I got so busy. There were estates to manage, ledgers to balance and announcements to be made. By the time I landed in London, I was so thoroughly exhausted that I simply wandered to Lady Danbury’s home and fell asleep on her chaise-lounge. She wasn’t impressed.”

You snort before realising the impropriety, “I can imagine.”

Simon laughs entertained by the thought of Lady Danbury’s face when she found him snoring away on her chair. “As punishment, she made me accompany her on a walk… where we ran into you.”

“What a punishment,” You drawl.

Simon rolls his eyes at your tone. “I like to think of it as a happy coincidence.”

“Then I shall look at it in the same manner.”

There was something different about the man sitting across from you. Was it how he held his spoon? How he stirred his tea? Had the years abroad moulded him into a new person, one you could barely recognise?

Simon held himself entirely different to how he would when he was younger. His posture, perfect. His stance, brimming with confidence. It takes you aback somewhat as you take in the changes the years away at school and abroad have placed on his body.

Would your friendship still stand after so long apart? Is Simon simply placating Lady Danbury by having him meet you for tea? He talks such pretty words; can form sentences that leaves your mind in a spin, but this is the same man that had left the country without so much as a goodbye in your direction.

Reaching for your tea, you distract yourself from such intrusive thoughts. The tea clears your mind; letting you form a blank slate in your mind. “Enough talk of the past, no matter how recent,” You declare, “You left so long ago and came back a new person. It seems I need to get to know the new one.”

Simon smiles at you from his place across the table. “The same could be said for you too.”

You smile though it doesn’t reach your eyes. You don’t mention how you had spent the last few years turning down every marriage proposal offered to you due to your heart belonging to another even in its broken state. “Time is a marvellous thing,” You offer instead, grabbing a small cake from the stand.

“Indeed,” Simon murmurs, eyes following the cake from the plate to your mouth. Despite the time that had passed, his feelings had not changed. They had grown stronger instead. By now, Simon truly understood the meaning of absence making the heart grow fonder. All through his travels, he had cursed himself for not asking you to join him. Through every country, principality and dominion, Simon wondered how it would be for you to be there with him, experiencing the wonders of it all.

“Where was your favourite place to travel?” You ask, leaning forward slightly, “I’ve never travelled further than France.”

Simon nods, remembering your trip abroad with the same pang of sadness he felt back then. He knew logically that you were sat across from him, yet the longing in his body did nothing to help repress the urge to reach out for your hand across the table – to touch you so he would know that you were there, and this wasn’t a figment of his imagination.

“I think my favourite place to visit was Greece. I stayed on the mainland for a while before eventually making my way around the islands. Each island had its own charms, but there was one that had me questioning whether I could live there for the rest of my life. It was so calm, so quiet. Not even the thoughts in my head could distract me from its serenity.”

“Do you miss it?”

“The island?”

“The travelling.”

Simon sighs, staring out of the window as he thinks of over his answer. Eventually, he says, “I miss the sights and the people. I miss the smells and the food. However, I do not miss the time zones. There were moments where I didn’t know what time it was, let alone what day it was.”

“It sounds as if you had a magical time,” You sigh, trying your best not to think of Simon in the desperate heat of the Mediterranean.

“It had its moments,” Simon admits, thinking of the hours he had spent in markets, trying local delicacies and drinking traditionally made coffee. He had adored every second of his travels; he hadn’t minded the odd illness that came along with a new environment when there was so much to learn and so much to experience.

“Will you be travelling again soon?”

“It depends,” Simon answers.

“On?”

“On whether I find anything to keep me here.”

Silence falls over you both as you take in his words, trying to find the meaning of them. Taking a sip of your tea, you wonder whether your friendship with the Duke would be enough to keep him grounded at home for longer than a few weeks at a time. Your heart skips a beat at thought that you might not be enough; your feelings for the Duke had never surprised you. They had not surprised Lady Danbury when you showed up on her doorstep in floods of tears after Simon had left for the continent; she had simply welcomed you into her home with words of comfort and reassurances.

“Will you be attending Lady Danbury’s ball later this week?” You ask, needing to take your mind off that terrible evening.

Simon chuckles, placing his teacup on its saucer. “I shall be in attendance. I find it hard to turn down Lady Danbury. Will you be there?”

You nod, thinking of the dress you had made special. “I will. I’m quite excited if I’m to be honest.”

“Why is that?”

You shrug, “The theme, the music, the company. Lady Danbury never fails with her balls.”

“She does not,” Simon agrees, remembering the grandiosity of such events before he left to travel.

“So I shall see you there?” You ask, your voice hopeful as if daring to wonder whether Simon would attend before no doubt leaving the country once more.

“You shall. Would you save me a dance perhaps?” Simon asks, his usual mischief alight in his eyes.

You smile widely, “Always.”

--------

The rest of the week is spent in anticipation; desperate for the hours to quicken so you could walk through the home of Lady Danbury to find Simon already waiting for you. A hopeless dream, but a dream, nonetheless.

The Duke of Hastings remains on your mind for the rest of the week. One chance meeting and one organised tea and it seems that the man had made his home in your mind and brought to life the feelings you were certain were dormant.

With those feelings in mind, you prepare for Lady Danbury’s ball knowing full well you were about to spend the evening in the presence of Simon, but also watching the mothers of London’s available fawn over him as if he was a prize to be won. It was enough to make your blood boil.

Ridding yourself of such anger, you enter the home of Lady Danbury.

Lady Danbury never spared any expense when it came her to time to host the event of the season. She knew that it would be reported on, that it would be spoken about. She also knew that there was a chance that many matches could be made that night; so no expense could be spared in the battle for love matches among the ton.

The sight of the ballroom takes your breath away as you enter. Lady Danbury had chosen the theme of the moon, stars and sun – asking her guests to dress in colours relating to either. Your navy blue skirts swish together the further you walk into the room, distracted by the moon and star decorations hanging from the high vaulted ceilings.

You’re so enraptured by the scenery that you do not hear the footsteps approaching or the whispers of the women beside you. It isn’t until you hear him call your name that you turn your gaze from the silver decorations.

“Simon,” You greet with a smile, “How have you been?”

“Very well,” He replies, “And yourself?”

“I’m fine, thank you for asking.”

“You look wonderful,” Simon compliments; eyes raking up and down your body.

Your skin heats at his rapt attention; flashes of heat soaring through you as your mind begins to think of all sorts of scenarios where you could keep his eyes on you for much longer. “Thank you,” You answer, voice breathy, “You look very handsome too.”

“Would you do me the honour of dancing with me?” Simon asks, voice quiet in the loud room.

Nodding your head, you take his outstretched hand and allow him to lead you onto the dancefloor where many other couples are gathering.

Simon’s hand is soft on the small of your back; soft but insistent as it brings you closer to his own body. Wrapped up entirely in him, you find it hard to concentrate on the steps of the dance, easily being led around the dancefloor by the man who had captured your heart before you had even known the meaning of the word.

A large smile spreads over his face as he spins you out and brings you back. A surprised laugh leaves your lips as Simon spins you once more; the delight settling deep within your bones, melding to become a memory that would always be with you. Simon’s own laughter soons join yours and before long, neither of you are paying much attention and custom – the both of you having far too much fun in each other’s arms to be aware of the looks and glances being sent your way.

As the music fades into silence, Simon’s grip on you loosens reluctantly. He doesn’t want to let go of you; doesn’t know when the next time he can hold you this close will be. If he could, he would steal you away right now, but etiquette and his title demands he be a gentleman.

With a strained smile, Simon bows at you once before turning away without a word. So deep in his thoughts, he doesn’t see you escape to the gardens before it is too late.

------

The gardens at Lady Danbury’s home had always been spectacular, but in the night, they were even more magnificent. Despite the shadows of night, you were not scared as you walked down the paths, fingers absently brushing over the flowers of delicately blooming flora.

Rather, your mind was occupied by the one man who had returned into your life after such a sizeable absence. Simon had danced with you tonight, and every aspect felt so perfect. The way his hand covered yours; the way his palm felt pressed against the small of your back. Bringing your hand to your mouth, you hide the smile on your face as you think of the way he had laughed with you as he spun you across the floor. He had looked so young; so carefree, as if he hadn’t the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“I wondered where you had wandered off to,” A voice sounds from behind you, startling you.

“Simon!” You gasp, clutching your chest, “You scared me!”

He chuckles, holding his hands up in surrender as he steps closer to you. “That was not my intention,” He promises, his smile wide.

“What was your intention then?” You ask, an eyebrow raised in challenge.

“I wanted to ask you a question should you allow it.”

“We are alone,” You remind him, “We should move inside.”

“Please,” Simon pleads, “It won’t take long.”

You pause your steps. The cool night air settles around you as you wait for Simon to ask his question.

“Why did you never marry?” Simon demands; his eyes blazing with the need to know. “I know you had proposals; Lady Danbury even told me so.”

“There was never anyone good enough,” You confess, fisting your hands in the skirts of your dress to keep yourself from reaching out for him. “I tried. I really tried, but I always found myself thinking of you or wondering about you. Even though you never wrote, I still fell in love with you.”

Simon inhales sharply; not expecting your confession. You hadn’t expected to be so honest, but your heart was in control of your mouth; your mind taking a backseat on this one. Your heart had yearned after this man since you had learned the very definition of the word ‘love’.

“Why did you never write?” You ask, finally verbalising the question that had plagued your mind since the moment he had left.

He remains silent, so you repeat your question with a firmer voice. “Why did you never write, Simon?”

“If I had written to you, I would have come home.”

“Would that have been so bad?”

“I needed to get away, I had to leave. To do that, I had to cut strings with you, or I never would have become the man I am today. I never would have become worthy of you.”

“It is for me to decide whether you are worthy of me, Simon Basset. I have found you worthy of my love since you were ten years old and getting caught hiding a fish in the footmen’s bed if you must know.”

“For that long?” He asks; his voice a mere hoarse gasp as he battles with this new information.

“For that long,” You affirm.

“I always found myself travelling back to you,” Simon admits, “I would be in the furthest corner of the world and my mind would question why you were never by my side. On my last trip, I found myself packing my belongings with you on my mind before I had even made the decision to return home. My father was part of it, I’ll admit. But you… you were the whole reason why I returned to London.”

“What does this mean?” You ask, confused and emotional over the night’s confessions.

“It means I no longer want to travel the world if you are not by my side. It means I want to court you and follow the traditions of society. I have two loves in my life: travel and you.”

“You love me?”

He nods, “I have since I was a teenager.”

“I love you too,” You respond honestly, seeing no reason to lie in a moment like this.

“So,” Simon sighs as your words settle over him like a balm over an open wound, “Shall we do this properly? Courting and the like.”

“I think I would. I think we could start right now,” You whisper, stepping closer to the man who you felt certain was the love of your life.

“Right now?”

You nod you head, smiling widely as you reach for the lapels of his jacket. “I think we could start this very moment with a kiss. What do you think?”

Simon glances from side to side, checking for witnesses, “Only if you promise not to kiss another.”

“I don’t think that would be an issue,” You admit happily, “Kiss me, Simon.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice.

*******

Bridgerton Taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore @dreaming-about-fanfictions @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @janelongxox @aspiringsloth20 @wallwriterstuff @magicalxdaydream @darkestbeforethedawn16 @gryffindors-weasley

#simon basset x reader #simon basset #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #simon x reader #bridgerton imagines #simon basset fanfiction #simon basset imagines #duke hastings x reader

[whack-ed]

“Just Friends” (Fred Weasley x Reader)

Synopsis: A halloween party was what it took for you to finally do what you wanted to do with Fred.

Warnings: make out; underage drinking and extremely flirtation.

Reader: Female

World Count: 2.5k

A/N: I'm sorry for the delay, I had some personal problems to solve, but here I am! this is a oneshot for the special A very Harry Potter Halloween by @masterofthedarkness and @eleven-times-lively​. This one is for the 30th with the prompt Halloween Party! Hope you like it :)

tag list: @nebulablakemurphy​ @jamilelucato​ @inglourious-imagines​ @acciotwinz​ @clarissaxpearce​ 

if you want to be tagged, send me a ask!

Finally October, the favorite time of year for Y/n. For various reasons, fantasies, sweets, the weather, absolutely everything Y/n loved most was present in October. But probably the thing the girl liked the better was the Weasley twins' Halloween party. And this year promised, it was the twins' last year at school and they promised the best Halloween party this school has ever seen.

Usually Y/n knew everything the twins were preparing, since they were a quartet. The twins, Y/n and Lee. These four names together gave chills to any teacher. But not this time. This year it was just Fred and George who were looking for trouble. The twins didn't let Y/n and Lee participate at all, the surprise was for everyone. And of course, Y/n's anxiety didn't leave the twins alone for a minute.

"Please Fred, tell me at least the color of the glasses!" Y/n insisted on Fred saying at least a little detail about the party. The secret was complete.

"I already said that I don't speak a word to you, Y/n" The redhead replied laughing.

They were in a history of magic class, automatically nobody was paying attention. The twins sat in the last row, Y/n and Lee just ahead.

"What are the drinks going to be, that's no big deal!" Lee asked as curious as Y/n.

"Not a word, Lee," George replied with a sly smile on his face, the same as the one on his brother's face.

"I hate you both" Y/n said irritably and turned forward.

Fred who was behind Y/n leaned forward and rested his head on the girl's shoulder, whispering her ear. Fred's proximity to Y/n's ear made the girl get goosebumps and close her eyes while the redhead spoke. "You don't miss out on waiting, baby"

George and Lee exchanged a look that they knew well what it meant. Y/n and Fred have always had this relationship ... doubtful. Nothing but indirect flirtations happened between the two, there was never anything else. George and Lee always questioned the two of them if something happened in the backstage that they didn't see, and of course, the answer was always the same "We are just friends". Only friends my ass, George thought. The boy knew his brother well to know when he was lying.

Fred then returned to his seat and Y/n kept her eyes closed digesting the sensation she had just had, wishing it had lasted a little longer. She opened her eyes slowly and blinked several times, returning to reality.

"My God, the sexual tension between you two can be cut with a knife," Lee said making the three friends laugh.

"We are just friends, you know that" Y/n replied and noticed that this time Fred's laugh was not genuine. Apparently George noticed it too. But of course it could only be Y/n's head.

The class passed slowly as usual, but amid laughter, scolding from the teacher and notes on the parchment, time finally passed. It was already lunchtime and Y/n couldn't be more thankful for that. Her thoughts could go from Fred to the mountain of mashed potatoes that awaited her.

Weeks passed and the twins had not yet given any information about the party. It wasn't just Lee and Y/n who were looking forward now, all seventh graders as well. The fact that Umbridge was taking care of the school, making so many rules, only made things more exciting. The twins couldn't be loud ... At least not in theory.

Now everyone was in the common room, some doing their homework and others just hanging out. Everything was calm until the most beloved twins in the world came in doing what they do best, drawing attention.

“My dear student friends" George was saying.

"Me and my dear brother, we finally have the invitations ready!" Fred completed.

"And what does that mean, bro?" George asked doing a theatrical pose.

"That not even the pink toad was able to stop the Weasley Twins!" Fred completed again by opening his arms also in a theatrical way.

“But it’s worth remembering that the party is only for people from the fifth year upwards” Some sad moans were heard from some students from the fourth year downwards “So my little grasshoppers, you who didn’t taste one of our Halloween parties, will have to look for that taste in our store! ” George announced and the sad moans automatically turned into happy faces.

“That's right! We believe that very soon, our store will have a physical point and will be 100% prepared to serve all of you little pests! ” Fred said laughing and started handing out the invitations.

The invitations were not common, as nothing the twins did was common, no one was surprised, just curious. They were orange sweets in the shape of mini pumpkins.

“But is this sweet? How should we know where and when to go with a sweet? ” Ron asked as soon as George handed him one of the pumpkins.

"I suggest taking a bite, little brother," Fred said mockingly, handing one to Y/n. "I made this one especially for you" And winked at the girl. Hers was Y/F/C , your favorite color. As soon as the girl saw the candy she smiled at Fred and got a little flushed.

As soon as Ron took a bite of the fearful candy, sparkles that resembled fireworks with a date, time and place emerged from the pumpkin.

"We just suggest that you don't eat it whole, eating the other piece makes you invisible for 15 minutes, so you can go to the party without drawing unnecessary attention" Fred said with a smile on his face, proud of what he had done.

It was amazing how these boys were the life of the party wherever they went. Y/n smile so proudly for the boys. After the euphoria of delivery of the pumpkins, the boys sat on the sofa with only a few students in the room, most of had already gone to sleep. Y/n was in an armchair by the fireplace, reading a book. Fred settled on the floor in front of the girl and rested his head on her knees. George sat next to Lee on the couch.

"Okay, now that we have everything set up, what will your fantasy be?" George asked to his friends.

"I was thinking of going as a werewolf" Lee replied playing with the hem of his shirt.

"What a cliché, Lee" Hermione who was finishing up her homework said from across the room. She, Harry and Ron were actually finishing up their homework. But everyone knew that the boys were just waiting for Hermione to finish copying hers.

"You're right, he should go as you Hermione, who knows, maybe someone will put limits on this party?" Ron replied laughing, immediately regretting because of Hermione's furious reaction.

"And what are you going to be dressed up for?" Y/n asked lowering the book, she had stopped paying attention long ago.

"Us? Secret too" Fred replied to the girl.

"You guys are getting unbearable with this, you know?" Y/n said looking at the twins.

"Just noticed now?" Lee said sarcastically.

Y/n snorted angrily and pulled her legs up so that Fred could no longer lean on them, causing the boy to turn his head to her laughing.

"You look so beautiful when you're mad" He said and stood up and give her a kiss on the cheek. "I think it's past time for us to go to sleep, we need energy to organize what comes tomorrow, Georgie"

George got up too and agreed with his brother, so the two went up to the dorm wishing everybody a good night.

"I'll see if I can get anything out of them before bed, good night, Y/n" Lee said and went after the twins.

Harry was already drooling at the table, Ron was almost, only Hermione was still focused. Y/n got up and headed for the girls' dorm.

"Good night, Mione" Y/n said.

"When are you two going to assume you have more than a friendship, Y/n?" Hermione asked before she went up. The girl laughed and shook her head.

"We are just friends"

The following days passed with Y/n listening to discussions to see what would be the fantasy of her friends. Lee really was a werewolf, Hermione was from an important witch that nobody really understood who was just that had something to do with defending giants, Ron was going as a auror, Harry as a  quidditch player, and of course the fantasy of Fred and George it was still a secret.

At breakfast on the day of the party, everyone was euphoric. The whispers came not only from the Gryffindor table, but from all of them, even some Slytherins were excited.

And because she kept her head elsewhere, Y/n ended up forgetting to think about her fantasy. Then, taking advantage of having a visit to Hogsmade that day, she asked Hermione for help in choosing a costume. The girls went to each clothing store until they found the perfect costume. That was it, they thought. It perfectly matched Y/n's personality.

The hours passed and now it was only an hour before the twins' Halloween party. The girls in Y/n's room were euphoric. They had pirates, healers, vampires, it looked like a children's book in one room. Y/n was finishing her makeup and would already be ready to leave. The outfit she had chosen was nothing less than court jester. Not a dull court jester, according to Hermione, and here I quote her words, she was a “sexually desirable jester”. A colorful short dress, socks to the thighs one of each color, hair tied with colored ribbons and a cute clown makeup. It was perfect.

"You look perfect, Y/n!" Angelina said to the girl with colored ribbons in her hair.

"You too, Angie, wonderful by the way!" Y/n said to her friend that was dressed as a fairy.

The two then descended together, meeting several people in costume in the main hall. And in the sea of mummies and mermaids, Y/n spotted the werewolf she was looking for.

“Lee! Lee! ” The girl called and Lee turned to see her.

"Y/n ... Bloody hell woman, now I understand what Fred talks about so much" Lee replied looking Y/n up and down.

"What does Fred say?" Y/n asked frankly eyebrows.

"He keeps saying you have phenomenal thighs," Lee replied, staring at her legs.

“Hey! Lee! Eyes up here! ” Y/n responded making the boy automatically look embarrassed, but then laughing.

"Let's go then?" Lee asked Y/n and she nodded.

The two then ate all the pumpkin and automatically the picture of the fat woman opening, looked like a passage of ghosts, no one was seen, all you could hear were footsteps and some muffled laughter through the corridors.

Finally, after walking a lot trying to make a minimum of noise, they reached the precise room. The door opened and the legion of students entered the place. When Fred and George said it was going to be the best Halloween party this school has ever seen, they weren't kidding.

There were already some students in the room, but the decor was clear. They had colorful and noiseless fireworks shining on the ceiling tirelessly, they seemed bewitched to last all night. The smoke on the ground made it look like a swamp, you could barely see people's feet. The tables set with various sweets with different shapes and a large bowl with punch, certainly alcoholic. The walls decorated with purple and orange ribbons all over the place. Of course, cobwebs, skeletons and pumpkins were placed in every corner. The music was loud, but it was not heard outside, they had also bewitched it. The only strange thing was that Fred and George were not yet in place.

More and more people were arriving and none of the twins. Y/n was having fun with Lee and other friends, but missed the redheaded duo. While some students were kissing in a corner and others were stuffing themselves with food, Y/n was dancing with a glass in her hand, like there's no tomorrow. She moved her hips from side to side without caring if she was drawing too much attention. Tonight was really for that.

The only part of the place that no one had understood was the stairway in the corner of the room that led to a balcony and a small door that nobody could open. After a while, Y/n ignored the stairs, and suddenly after the girl's third glass, the door made sense. It had opened up and the music had turned down the volume. There they were, Fred and George came out of the door in the costume of Kings. Y/n laughed with them and stopped dancing, looking at the boys.

"Feel free, my subjects, the party is yours today!" Fred said raising his hands.

"And remember, if you are not going to party like us, you can leave" George added.

"And let the party really start!" Fred shouted and everyone shouted in agreement.

The twins then descended the stairs, as if they were true kings. Strangely, their fantasy matched the boys perfectly. Y/n after seeing that the boys were already enjoying the party normally, she took another sip of her drink and started dancing again.

The music playing was sensual, and it is clear that the girl, with the courage that the drink gave her, took advantage of the moment. She had wanted to do this for years, and the opportunity never came, but now? Last year, she was going to do what she wanted without fear.

Y/n started to dance to the music, as sensual as the beat of each note. She knew they had several pairs of eyes on her, but only one interested her. Then the girl turned to where Fred was and she couldn't be more pleased to see that he was looking at her like a dog is looking at a piece of meat, with pure desire. She then danced looking directly at him.

Fred couldn't hold on any longer, he dodged the crowd and came very close to Y/n, grabbed her waist tightly and without thinking, he kissed the girl. It was as if everyone in the room had disappeared. They were just there, Y/n and Fred. The girl returned the kiss at the same time her lips met, placing her hands on the boy's neck.

The two separated only because they were forced to breathe. Keeping foreheads glued together. Smiling broadly. And you can hear George and Lee in the background shouting "Finally!" "Just friends, my ass!" And things like that. But Fred and Y/n couldn't care less.

"So.. hm, I think we're not just friends after all, huh?" Fred says laughing still being very close to you.

"I don't think we ever were just friends"

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley smut #fred weasley x reader #imagine #harry potter imagine #weasley twins #fanfiction #Gryffindor #slytherin #x reader #george weasley #george weasley imagine #harry potter fanfiction #halloween #harry potter #a very harry potter halloween

[fanmoose12]

Levihan week 2021

Day four: Childhood

Summary: Levi goes to kindergarten. Kuchel worries.

Up, then down, again and again, her leg was moving in frantic, jerky movements that were becoming faster and faster with each tick of the clock.

Kuchel glanced at it, biting her lip. Shit, it was only eleven in the morning. There was still five hours left.

"Oi, sis," a heavy hand fell on her knee, stopping the nervous bouncing. "How many coffees did you have this morning?"

"Two cups," she answered, flicking hair out of her face. "Maybe, three. Or four. I couldn't fall asleep last night."

"Jesus," Kenny sighed. "Nothing will happen to that little runt, stop going crazy over it."

"It's his first day in the kindergarten, Kenny, how can I not go crazy waiting for him?" Kuchel couldn't quite understand how Kenny managed to be so calm. Sure, as a mother, she worried a lot more, but Kenny was as relaxed as ever. Was he actually not nervous at all? Was he not worried for his nephew? "So many things can go wrong! He can get lost or injured! Kids may start bullying him, he may not like the food or the teacher! Or maybe he's feeling lonely and abandoned and scared and—"

"Sis," Kenny squeezed her shoulder, interrupting her tirade. "You know, I'm the first one to give shit to your brat, but he's not an idiot. I'm sure he's doing fine. He's old enough, after all."

"He's only four."

"But he's not that helpless. Relax and enjoy your time without him."

"How can I enjoy my time if Levi's not here?"

"For fuck's sake," Kenny rolled his eyes. "Then get used to being without him. He'll leave you one day, whether you want it or not."

"You're an asshole," Kuchel punched his arm, hiding a smile. As rough as her brother's manner of speaking was, it actually helped to ease some of her nerves.

But just as Kuchel was mentally ready to stop staring at the clock, wishing the point would start to go faster, her phone started ringing.

After glancing at the screen, she froze, the anxiety returning.

"Kenny," she said quietly, forcing words past the lump in her throat. "Kenny, the teacher from the kindergarten is calling me."

"Well, take it!" he urged. "Or do you want to me take care of it?"

She threw a dark look at him, she wasn’t a little girl anymore. She was anxious, yes, a little bit panicked, perhaps, but she didn’t need her big brother answering the call instead of her. Resolutely, she grabbed the phone, accepting the call. Taking a long, deep breath, she put the phone to her ear.

"Hello?"

“Good day, Miss Ackerman, it's Levi's teacher. Please, don't worry,” how could she not after words like that? “It's a standard procedure, but can you come to see me? You see, Levi has gotten into a fight—"

Oh. Not even her wildest fears involved Levi, her gentle, kind Levi getting into a fight. She exchanged a look with Kenny, her heart beating wildly in her chest.

"I'll be there as soon as I can," she promised and hanged up.

Okay, maybe, deep down, she was a little girl who needed her big brother from time to time.

She turned to Kenny, showing him her terrified eyes.

"Goddamn it," he ruffled his hair and rose to his feet. "C'mon, I'll give you a lift."

___

The whole ride to the kindergarten, Kuchel felt like she was sitting on needles.

"Do you think Levi is the one who started the fight first? Do you think he's hurt? Do you—"

"Kuchel!" Kenny slammed his hands on a steering wheel, throwing her an exasperated look. "It's a fight between two children, how serious can it possibly get? The teacher called just as a formality, I'm sure the runt is perfectly fine. Calm the fuck down already."

Kuchel sighed, forcefully unclenching her fists. She knew she was overreacting, but how could she act any differently? Levi was her son, her dear baby, how could she not worry about him?

"Do you want me to go with you?" Kenny asked, his voice softening ever so slightly.

"No, it's fine," vigorously, she straightened her skirt, as Kenny smoothly parked just outside of the kindergarten building. "Thanks for the ride."

"Good luck out there," he smirked, tilting his hat. "Don't bite off the head of the other kid's parent."

"I'll do my best," Kuchel grinned back, feeling that much calmer.

However, her calmness vanished the moment she passed the threshold to the classroom. Her eyes shifted from one corner of the room to the other, searching for the mop of dark, neat hair. Levi was sitting in the corner of the room, next to a brown haired child, who was whispering something to him and holding his hand. The sight confused Kuchel, but before she could get to her son, she was approached by a teacher and another woman, who, as Kuchel had guessed, was the parent of the child who got into a fight with Levi. Anger sparked inside her as their eyes met.

"Thank you for arriving so swiftly," the teacher smiled, leading both women to her desk. "Miss Ackerman, this is Mrs. Zoe, Hange's mother," Kuchel gave another woman a tight-lipped smile, wondering which one out of dozen kids in the classroom was that Hange who dared to hurt her son. "Like I said, this is just a formality, you have nothing to worry about. As you can see," the teacher continued, gesturing to the corner where Levi was sitting. "Your children are alright, and, I think, the conflict is already resolved."

With her eyes widening in surprise, Kuchel stared at Levi and his new friend. That was the kid he got in a fight with? The same kid who was now holding his hand and animatedly talking with her quiet, surly son?

"So..." Kuchel fidgeted with the sleeve of her dress, a little unsure. "What was the fight about?"

"Let's ask the children," the teacher called out to them, beckoning to come closer.

They did, still hand in hand.

"I'm sorry," Levi mumbled, casting his eyes down. "I shouldn't have pushed four-eyes down."

"No!" Hange exclaimed, puffing her cheeks and stomping her feet. "It's me who should be apologizing! Levi told me not to touch him with my filthy hands but I still did it!"

Was that the core of the problem? Kuchel wasn't sure if she should scold Levi or laugh at his habits.

“It looks like the conflict is truly resolved,” Mrs. Zoe chuckled, ruffling Hange’s hair.

“You can take your children home, if you wish to,” the teacher offered. “But I called you just to make sure that both of them are alright and unharmed.”

“Mom, I’ll stay, okay?” Hange asked, smiling toothily.

“What about you, buddy?” Kuchel kneeled next to her son, caressing his chubby cheek. “Want to stay? Or we can go home, I’ll buy you some ice-cream.”

“No,” Levi shook his head. “I’ll stay too, mom.”

Oh. Kuchel didn’t expect this. She was so afraid that Levi would have a hard time connecting with the other kids. But it seemed like he had already found a friend, even if the start of their friendship wasn’t all that smooth.

“Then I’ll come for you in the evening.” Kuchel kissed his cheek, smiling when she saw the light blush on his face. Was her boy truly growing up? “Have fun.”

Out of the corner of her eyes, Kuchel noticed Mrs. Zoe walking out of the classroom. She wanted to follow after her, but just as she stood up, she felt a tug on her skirt. Turning around, Kuchel saw Hange. The kid looked worried, her brows furrowed.

“Please, don’t be angry with Levi,” Hange whispered, careful not to let anyone else hear. “He was so afraid that you would get upset with him. I’m sorry I got him into trouble. I didn’t mean to! I just wanted to be friends with him.”

Hange shifted her weight from one foot to another, wringing her fingers. Kuchel stared at her, her chest tightening. God, what an angel of a child. And to think that she wanted to be angry with the kid who got in a fight with Levi. But how could she be angry with Hange?

“I’m not mad at him, honey,” Kuchel gently patted her hair. “And I’m not mad at you as well. You did nothing wrong, don’t worry.”

“Oh,” Hange grinned toothily, her eyes sparkling. “Alright then! Bye, Miss Ackerman!”

Instantly, the kid darted away, running to Levi who was waiting for her all this time, staring at them inconspicuously.

Smiling, Kuchel left the children be, catching up with Hange’s mother.

“Sorry for my Levi,” she said, falling into step with another woman. “He’s a good kid, but can be… a little rough.”

“No harm done,” Mrs. Zoe assured her. “My Hange was just as much at fault there. I told it to her a thousand times, but she keeps forgetting that not everyone is as friendly and open as she is. I guess she’s too young to understand what personal space means.”

“Doesn’t look like Levi cares about it,” Kuchel jokes, turning around to watch her son walk around the playground, tightly holding Hange’s hand in his. “It seems like they’re already friends.”

“I’d sleep easier if it turns out to be true,” Mrs. Zoe huffed. Catching Kuchel’s baffled look, she tensed. “Sorry,” she said hastily. “I know it may not look like it, but it’s hard for Hange to make friends. She’s… too intense.”

“I’m surprised Levi managed to find a friend so quickly,” Kuchel confessed, patting Mrs. Zoe’s shoulder in a comforting manner. She rather liked Mrs. Zoe. Not just because Hange seemed like a very nice kid, but her mother appeared to be very pleasant, as well. She didn’t ask why Kuchel was Miss Ackerman, and she didn’t seem to mind her less than new and shiny clothes. “He’s a quiet kid, so I was worried he’d feel lonely.”

“Well, looks like our children found each other then,” Mrs. Zoe smiled, offering her hand for Kuchel to shake. “I have to go now, but I’m sure we’ll meet again.”

“Let’s just hope that the circumstances will be a little different next time,” Kuchel shook her hand, smiling back.

She waved at the other woman and headed to the car, where Kenny was waiting for her. Before she got inside, she threw a last look at the playground. Levi was on top of the slide, Hange by his side. Both children had a stick in hand, waving them at something in the sky. Levi didn’t seem as enthusiastic and excited as Hange, but he was smiling, more openly than usual.

And his smile was enough to calm Kuchel’s heart. Hopefully, this was the first and the last time her Levi got into a fight.

___

Unfortunately, her worst fears confirmed just a week later, when she was called to the kindergarten once again.

As she was driving to the kindergarten, Kuchel kept wondering what had happened. During the whole week, Levi seemed so happy, coming home every day with a new story about his adventures with Hange.

If he got into a fight with Hange for the second time… Kuchel would give him an earful for hurting that sweet, adorable child.

But when Kuchel entered the classroom, there was no sign of Hange’s mother there. Instead, there sat a black-haired man, who had his arm wrapped around a blonde boy with bloodied nose. When her eyes fell on Levi, Kuchel felt a sense of deja vu. He was sitting in the corner as the last time, and, just like before, Hange was beside him, whispering something into his ear. In comparison to the other boy, Levi seemed uninjured, except for his hand that was wrapped in a white handkerchief.

Kuchel cursed under her breath, slowly approaching the teacher’s desk.

“I’m sorry,” the teacher smiled sympathetically. “But this time, the fight was a lot more serious.”

Kuchel nodded, seeing the evidence of it on the blonde boy’s face.

“Levi!” the teacher called, gesturing to him. “Come here, dear.”

Levi did, with Hange following after him. The teacher sighed, shaking her head. “Hange, I didn’t ask you to join. Please, go and play with the others while we talk.”

“But—”

“Go, four-eyes,” Levi gave her a light push. “I’ll be fine.”

Hange didn’t look all that convinced, but she complied, and, after giving the blonde boy a look that was a little too vicious for the four-year old kid, she went to the table with the coloring books.

“This is Mister Yeager, Zeke’s father,” the teacher explained to Kuchel. “Zeke, would you like to tell us what has happened today?”

“He punched me,” Zeke mumbled, gingerly holding an ice-pack to his face. “Two times!” he added, showing the exact number with his fingers.

“Levi…” Kuchel admonished softly. “Why did you do it?”

“He knows why.” Levi said, his eyes dark with anger.

“Would you tell us what Zeke did then?” the teacher asked.

“No.”

After Levi’s curt answer, there was a beat of silence, as three adults struggled to come up with a solution to this conflict. Tentatively, the teacher tried again.

“Would you apologize to Zeke, at least?”

“No.”

“Levi,” Kuchel whispered. “Please, apologize.”

“No.”

“I’ll buy you an ice-cream.”

“No.”

“I’ll allow you to watch cartoons until midnight.”

“No.”

“I’ll bake your favorite cake.”

At that, Levi seemed to hesitate. But a moment later, the stubborn expression returned to his face.

“No.”

Kuchel sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. Perhaps, she should have let Kenny deal with all of it.

“Well,” Zeke’s dad chuckled, a little awkwardly. “Not all conflicts can be resolved. Besides, what happened has already happened. There is no use for apology, if it won’t be sincere. Let’s just hope that this accident won’t repeat again.”

“Levi?” the teacher looked sternly at him. “Do you promise not to hit Zeke again?”

Levi glanced at Zeke, his frown deepening as their eyes met. The hand, wrapped in a handkerchief, clenched into fist, but momentarily relaxed, as Levi got ahold of himself. “I promise not to hit him, if he promises not to do the things he did.”

“I promise,” Zeke muttered, just as moodily as Levi.

“If that’s all,” Mister Yeager rose to his feet. “Then I shall take Zeke home.”

As soon as Zeke and his father left, Kuchel turned to Levi.

“Well?” she asked, rather strictly. “What was that about?”

Levi avoided her gaze, staring down at his feet. “The bastard got what he deserved.”

Kuchel winced at his choice of words. Kenny and his damn influence.

But that was probably a conversation for another time.

“And what did he do to deserve it?”

“He… he was throwing rocks at four-eyes.”

Oh. Well, that certainly explained Levi’s anger then. Now, Kuchel even felt bad for scolding him. That Zeke boy did deserve that punch.

“Baby, what you did…”

Was wrong, a good parent would have said. But, perhaps… Kenny’s influence was affecting her as well. Or it wasn’t Kenny’s influence at all. Perhaps, it was her Ackerman’s blood. Whatever it was, but she couldn’t just lie to her son like that.

“Levi,” she said, caressing his hair. “Next time someone hurts Hange or you… make sure no one sees when you hurt them back.”

She winked at himm and Levi relaxed, showing her a small grin. “I’ll remember that!” he promised.

Kuchel grinned back, relieved that her son was feeling that much better already.

“Now go. Someone is waiting for you,” she pointed at Hange.

Levi nodded happily and scurried towards his friend.

Kuchel watched him go, a smile still playing on her lips. She was so worried about Levi having troubles connecting with his peers and finding friends.

But, thankfully, her son was lucky to meet Hange Zoe.

#lhw2021 #levihanweek2021 #some fluff after two days of angst! #levihan

[sophiamcdougall]

So, there’s something I think is missing from the Booker Discourse and the focus on anger vs forgiveness, and whether Booker’s “punishment” is too harsh and who’s responsible if so, and its absence is beginning to slightly disturb me and it’s this: They don’t punish Booker. At all. 

No, really.

It’s one of the things I really like about the film -- how compassionately it treats Booker, both on a narrative and on an inter-character level. In most genre films wrongs against the good guys are usually settled with riproaring vengeance, even if in some the hero conveniently gets not to be the one to enact it directly.  But in the moment Booker’s betrayal becomes clear, character beats we have taken for mere melancholy click into place as heartwrenching grief and suicidal depression. We’re encouraged to grieve for him. We see Andy and Nile’s empathy for him. We see Nicky urging Joe to stop shouting at him even before they yet have any hope of escape. We don’t see a  moment of explicit compassion/restraint from Joe, but he does instantly put aside his anger to accept Andy’s decision that Booker’s coming with them, and does nothing to sabotage that choice. (In fact, it’s unthinkable that he would, but in plenty of action films it wouldn’t be.) And I agree with some of the arguments I’ve recently seen – the intensity of Joe’s fury isn’t necessarily a measure of how long it would last.

And then, as I say, they don’t punish him.

They don’t beat him up. They don’t work off steam killing and re-killing him. They don’t leave him for Kosak, or for the police. Of course they’d never do a full Quynh on him but putting him a box for ... a year? Six months? A week? It would be an option. They don’t do that, either.   

They simply stop hanging out with him. And they have the extraordinary grace to promise this won’t be permanent. And Andy, whom he shot in the back, sees him off with a goodbye hug.

I’m seeing a lot of debate about whether Joe (hotheaded, passionate) vs Nicky (still waters run deep) is The Angry One and which one of them might, by contrast, have been totally fine letting Booker back into the group immediately. I think you can plausibly headcanon the first part of that various ways. Personally I think Nicky would take a more severe line than Joe, although, as I’m about to argue, I don’t think that necessarily has to mean he’s “angrier”.)

What I don’t think you can plausibly headcanon is that either would actually be “fine” taking Booker back immediately, or any time soon.

Now I want to preface this with pointing out that anger is a completely natural and appropriate response to being hurt and whoever is The Angry One out of Nicky and Joe, has every right to that feeling. And to be fair I don’t think that’s really being disputed. But there does seem to be the idea that The Situation  – Anger = Everything’s Fine Now! And I do think it’s slightly ... victim-blamey, like the barrier to HEA isn’t what Booker did, it’s how long the people he hurt retain one specific emotion about it.  Whoever’s angriest is being staggeringly generous to Booker, and the result is 100% compatible with their not being “angry” at all. It’s compatible with “forgiveness” having already taken place. Just for a minute imagine writing to ... Captain Awkward, or Dear Prudence or Reddit Relationships. And explaining that your friend placed you in the power of people who wanted to hurt you, deliberately exposed you to very serious danger and your worst personal fear, and caused you to watch your partner trapped and in pain for somewhere in the ballpark of 48 hours ...  BUT, he is going through some very bad shit, guys, and you really do feel for him. Imagine what the response would be.  (”My friend wanted to commit suicide-by-cop, so he planted weed/guns in the car with me and my husband in it and called the police, although he knows we both have a particular phobia of cops after what happened to another friend who was arrested a while back. Oh and he attacked our other friend, because he wanted to be totally sure the cops would come for him, but he only meant to knock her out not to nearly kill her and he’s depressed and very sorry. I still want to put our friendship on a break. AITA?”)  They would yell at you to oh my god get away from him WTF how is this even a question please get some therapy learn to love yourself. 

And if you repeated that he’s really sad! And it went down worse than he thought it would! And you don’t want to hurt him! they would yell that it’s not about hurting him it’s about protecting you.   Just ... think about it. Imagine you’re either Joe or Nicky. Assume your anger has already completely evaporated, whether you think that’s in-character or not, and imagine you feel truly sorry for Booker. Take the most generous stance on what he did that you can. Fine. But every time you turn your back on him, or see him go off on a mission alone with one of the others ... how do you feel? Even if you don’t think he’d actually do this again, do you feel safe? 

 And imagine trying to recover from the trauma of what just happened to you. Imagine how much it would help to take refuge in all the soft, “family” touches which were also such a refreshing distinguishing feature of this film. Gift exchanges and bets and TV and hugs. Imagine trying to do that with the person who put you through it right. there.

 Nicky and/or Joe could honestly wish Booker no suffering at all, nothing but recovery and healing and peace, and Booker would still be a walking PTSD trigger and working/socialising with him would be downright self-destructive. 

Now, of course this is unpleasant for Booker because he’s already lonely and self-hating and it’s difficult -- though not necessarily impossible! -- for any of them to form a support system outside the group. But that really isn’t the team’s responsibility and, what is really the alternative? 

Maybe it’s being framed so much as “punishment” because Andy says “there has to be a price.” And there does; the consequences of Booker’s choice will unfold in some way whatever they do. The team do not have the option of simply resetting to normal, even if they wanted to. The only question is only who carries the weight of those consequences and how. Should Nicky and Joe have to pretend to feel comfortable around Booker, should they force themselves to go through the motions of friendship – hug him, smile at him, pass him a coffee – while their shoulders go up around their ears whenever he’s in the room, regardless of what that means for their own healing?

The injustice of that should be obvious but even if they did it, even if they made that colossal sacrifice for the person who just hurt them, would it really help Booker? Imagine being him and settling down to watch the football beside Joe and knowing what he likely remembers whenever he looks at you. Honestly, I don’t see that being a healthy path to recovery for him either.

Or OK. Maybe they don’t put on an act. They  keep spending time with him, but they don’t try to hide the nightmares and the flashbacks or the way their smiles drop whenever he comes into the room. Maybe they flinch whenever he gets too close and sometimes they yell at him but they all have to put that on hold every time there’s a mission and somehow they also they try to be his therapists?

I don’t know, it sounds a lot kinder to everyone to just get some fucking space.

Not hanging out with someone who gravely hurt you isn’t punishment, it’s basic boundaries and self-care for you and I’m beginning to worry about what it means that many of you don’t seem to know that.

#The Old Guard #long post #Oh my god Sophia shut up #anger #forgiveness #Fixed the broken sentence now #The Booker Discourse #Booker

[fourfucksake]

let it snow

request: Can you do something with Chris sleeping with a friend? Maybe she comes and stays over and it snowed to hard for her to leave. They watch a movie and drink a little and it leads to rough sex on the couch?

pairing: chris evans x fem!black!reader

warnings: language, smut

word count: 2k

p.s i’m sorry for being inactive! i’m fine, just lazy

Visiting Chris right before Christmas was a tradition that we both shared for a long time. A few years ago, we met while filming a movie together, and our friendship blossomed very quickly. Being casted for that movie was my first role ever; back then, the show-biz, “the” Hollywood was truly one big puzzle that I had to solve on my own. The role I had wasn’t big nor significant, but it meant everything to me. The memories from those filming days were so close to my heart. Not to mention the friendship I built with Chris Evans that was also very dear to myself.

In that movie, I played the girl Chris slept with several times and at the end she finally got him to solve a mystery which led to a plot twist. Despite this description, the role wasn’t really that big, and I only had like three scenes where my character was somehow important. As imagined, all the sex talks we had as our characters were the start of me developing crush on him. Yes, I adored him as a fan for years but after that once scene where we almost kissed (and had to reshoot it way too many times) made me go crazy over him. It was downright embarrassing that literally no man that I have ever slept with made me as turned on as Chris did by almost kissing me.

“Chris!” I yelled while greeting him, giving his body a warm hug. His huge arms wrapped around me always gave me the snuggest feeling inside, I loved the smallest touch of his affection on myself. A loud laugh left my lips as he picked me up, completely erasing the distance between us. I gave him a small peck on a cheek before my feet were back again on the ground. “No Dodger?” I asked out of curiosity after not being able to spot one of my favourite creatures. “Nope, not today. He is with Scott, I left him there since I only came to this house for a couple of days before going back to my brother’s. Didn’t want to move him around like that, you know?” He explained as he rested his shoulder on the doorframe while I undressed from the heavy winter clothing. I hanged my big, fluffy coat and took my boots off before we entered his big living room.

Our “Christmas Dinner” was filled with laughs and banter. I almost forgot how amusing Chris really was, he always did everything to make the other person laugh out loud. Being with him was always great fun and however horrible that sounds I was ecstatic when the snowfall outside transformed into an apocalypse. Of course, I pretended that I really need to head back home, and nothing will stop me, but Chris refused to let me leave in this weather. After twenty minutes of going back and forth in argument, I gave up. He seemed pleased which was a relief because I would’ve hated feeling like I’m not wanted.

Chris made us both a cup of hot chocolate as we continued to talk. We made a promise regarding Christmas gift, swearing on each other’s lives that they will only be unwrapped on an actual Christmas Day. Still, I had a feeling he will open his as soon as I leave through that door. My eyes rolled as he deliberated about how his gift was surely better than mine, Tired of his annoying whimpers, I picked a TV remote and started looking through films on Disney+. “This will shut you up for like an hour or, at least I hope so,” I said with a silly face and showed him the middle finger as he laughed in response.

Focusing on the TV screen, I tried not to think about different, erotic scenarios of the both of us. His presence near me was enough to make my thoughts livid. His hand was placed on my knee, which I could not stop thinking about, no matter how hard I tried to. If Chris knew what my dirty thoughts were including him in, he would most likely show me where the door is. Or, possibly, throw me out of the window. I couldn't help but stress in his presence. It was simply not possible not to. When I thought I could control myself around him, he would start stroking my thigh, driving my consciousness crazy. He could sense that I was nervous, or at least I thought that he could, because he looked at me with his bug puppy eyes. He said nothing, just stared in the bluntest way possible. I returned the stare, unable to form words that would make any sense.

Gazing into my eyes, he positioned his hand on my cheek. Involuntarily, a familiar shiver ran through my entire body. Ugh, he was perfect, and I hated him for it. I just knew I was not the only girl to feel this way about him. You didn’t have to know him to lust over his self. I opened my lips as he began to approach me, getting closer to my face with every millisecond. Our lips finally joined in a passionate kiss. My hand quickly rested on top of his, caressing the skin on his fingers which were placed on my face. My hormones were screaming and in a spare of the moment, (and inflow of confidence) I moved onto his laps and sat on them straddling. I took over the situation with dominance, but Chris quickly took it back when he put his hands on my ass and lifted me up to lay myself on my back on the couch.

“I wanted to do this for so long, you have no idea,” He whispered right into my lips as his hand slipped under the fabric of my sweatshirt. A long, drawn-out moan escaped my mouth as his lips found their way to the skin on my neck. I was panting hard with my mouth open. One of my hands landed between the locks of his hair that I pulled on. I cursed softly under my breath as his fingers tightened on my hip and then moved to my breasts that were still covered by the fabric of my top and lace bra.

“So damn beautiful.”  His words sounded like a tune to my ears. Now, I could confirm that no compliments sounded better than those formed by Mr. Chris Evans himself. His fingers sneaked into my private part once again as they slipped under my leggings. I consciously and willingly let them do so. I was already excited, maybe even more than I wanted to admit. Rarely has a man managed to bring me to this state by not doing anything special, but Chris definitely did.

My mind was full of thoughts concerning what we were doing in this very moment. Has he already done this with some other naive aspiring actress? Am I just another name on his long list waiting to be crossed out? My morals and standards, and more importantly, my substantial self-respect were all screaming at me right about now. Unfortunately, my thirst and excitement won the arguments inside my head. “Chris, p-please,” I whispered and desperately pulled the hair at the top of his head. “F-Fuck me,” My lips finally formed a dreadful plea for more.

Chris didn't wait any longer, as if I gave him an order that he had to obey. He quickly deprived my body of all of its clothing, his hungry gaze followed my flesh this whole time. He was discovering every inch of my skin for the first time, concentrating on it as if he wanted to remember every single detail. I did not want to do any worse than him, therefore my hands also started a fight with his clothes, aggressively removing them from his body.

“Condom, I need-“ He mumbled inexplicably, the second part of his sentence was most certainly inaudible but at least I understood what he started looking for from its first part. I watched him out as his fingers grabbed the fabric of his pants. He reached out to the pocket, grabbing a silver wrapper between his two fingers, and I stared at it with a rather surprised look. He was prepared for this and I let him. He knew or at least he wanted this to happen. And I let him. Stupid girl.

My eyes followed him precisely as he returned to me. His knees settled on the couch and I opened my own wide for him to view. I licked my two fingers slowly before directing them to my pussy, slowly caressing and massaging it. Chris was watching me this whole time and his gaze was getting more and more hungry which undoubtedly stimulated all my senses.

Our eyes reconnected and we both smiled at each other at the same time. I licked my lips as I watched the rubber material slide smoothly over his swollen cock. He got closer to me and hit my entrance with his dick several times which was met with a loud moan escaping my lips. I was seconds away from begging him to push inside of me, but my needs were met with his sudden actions. Satisfied was an understatement as I felt his impressive length penetrating my inside.

From the first thrust, his hips moved quickly, with force. I felt him whole, from his core to his round tip. I felt his body pressing onto mine as his balls slapped my flesh with each movement. I tilted my head back and gasped like a wounded animal. My hand blindly travelled to his muscular torso, digging my long nails into his skin. He hissed in response, but his movements became faster, only adding extra pleasure to my private part. I felt my insides pulsing in response to his dick slamming onto me.  

Chris grabbed my leg under the calf and placed my heel on his shoulder. I took advantage of this placement and stretched my leg at the knee as I placed it as comfortably as possible on his shoulder. My hand rested on my boob, which I squeezed, and his eyes rested on the new image in front of him. We didn't exchange a single word, but we both gave each other the right glances that boldly approved of every move on our part.

Feeling ecstatic to say the least, I enjoyed every moment. I needed this. I needed to forget about the world, cool my abusive emotions and relish this quick experience. He gave me precisely what I craved. Moreover, I was confident he adored it just as much, which I saw from the droplets of sweat running down his forehead and from his plump lips producing multiple curse words as his body moved within me. His chest rose quickly and fell rapidly with each hard thrust. I rolled my eyes in pleasure, unable to help myself. I was so close to the orgasm that the man of my dreams was driving me to.

Feeling his warmth inside of me made me toes curl. This was so fucking good. I could confidently say that he too enjoyed himself, which the droplets of sweat running down his forehead and a bunch of swear words escaping his plump lips indicated. His chest rose and fell quickly with each hard thrust. Unable to help themselves, my eyes rolled in great pleasure. My breathing was rapid and unsteady as he drove me to a needed orgasm. I couldn’t feel his cum inside of me but his moans and pleads ensured me of his sweet release.

We looked at each other’s eyes when our breathing finally normalized from all that we have done right on that poor couch. Thankfully, I sensed no strange atmosphere in the air that could foreshadow the end of our friendship. Everything seemed so normal, so platonic and I felt an unimaginable sense of relief. “Round two?” He scanned my face with a smirk placed on his lips and flames in his eyes. I smiled in response because no words were needed to answer his question. My legs wrapped around his hips once again, his posture bent down in order to link our lips in a kiss, indicating a fresh start to our next game.

#chris evans imagine #chris evans imagines #chris evans one shot #chris evans smut #chris evans #imagine

[halloweenhoneylover]

the window

summary: reader gives spencer a really cute holiday gift, and he really, really appreciates it (spencer reid x gn!reader)

word count: 2.7k

author’s note: this was supposed to be a blurb lmao. also anon, u did not specify gender, so this is gender neutral!!! also, this is for the holiday season and isn’t specific to christmas (aside from mentions of secret santa gift exchange). also also, spencer knits canonically.

I KNOW WHAT YOU DID.

Rolling your eyes, you closed the seemingly menacing pop-up on your screen and continued to finish up your paperwork. A few seconds passed before a second pop-up appeared.

DO NOT CLOSE MY MESSAGES!!!

You heaved a sigh and stood, making your way to Garcia’s lair. Pushing the door open, you skipped a greeting entirely and chided, “Dude, you gotta stop sending scary pop-ups to my computer. People are gonna start thinking that unsubs are hacking the FBI and threatening agents.”

From beneath her horn-rimmed glasses, Penelope tutted and chewed the end of her pen. “You are no fun. Besides, you are forgetting my immensely cool and mysterious origin story. ‘The Black Queen’ was not one of the good guys!”

“That’s true,” you admitted, “but you’re one of us now, so that means no more suspicious messages unless you want to be fired.”

She gave you a contemptuous glare, “Not gonna happen. Also, I’m really shocked that you thought you could distract me from the matter at hand.”

Furrowing your brow, you replied, “I don’t even know what the matter at hand is.”

Garcia’s smirk curled devilishly. “You and Reid.”

Further confusion ensued. “And what about us?”

She groaned and threw her head back, “Oh my god, you really are dragging this out. I know that you did not get him for Secret Santa, but you still got him a present.” The quirking of her eyebrows was enough to indicate that she meant more than what she was saying, and you were hesitant to explore the implications.

“Okay, first of all, it is illegal to look at my credit card history, and secondly, he is my best friend, so yes, I got him a present. Is that a crime?”

“Certainly not...but this does solidify the fact that you’re in love with him.”

“Dear god, Garcia, I am not in love with Spencer Reid.”

The look she gave you was one of utter incredulity. Her disbelief was so strong in fact that she did not deign your statement worthy of verbal response. Instead, she sat there. Staring. And under her rather unnerving gaze, you began to fidget, your resolve slowly dissolving. Squeezing your eyes shut, you relented. 

“Okay, maybe I am the littlest, tiniest bit in love with Spencer Reid.”

“Well, duh, but what I really need to know is when you’re gonna tell him.”

“When? Garcia, this is not a ‘when’ question. Actually, it’s not a question at all because never in a million years would I ever tell him.”

“Why not?” she exclaimed, gesturing with her pen still in hand. “You spend almost all of your time together, at work and at home! You guys go to bookstores and museums and cafes. He talks about his silly little statistics, and you listen, and you make your silly little jokes, and he laughs; you’re a match made in heaven! And he’s so obviously into you! That boy writes the definition of heart eyes every time he looks at you.”

Steeling your jaw, you rebutted, “That’s just not true.” Your voice faltered. “Sure, I’ve noticed a certain...affection, but he does not love me in the same way I love him.” You let out a shaky breath before deciding to continue. “Did you know that in all of our years of friendship he’s never touched me? I mean sure, it’s happened once or twice in the field, but that was always an accident. And yeah, I know he has his thing with germs, but don’t you think if he liked me as anything more than a friend, he would have done something by now? A pinky promise, a teasing elbow jab—I don’t know—something?”

Penelope’s face softened, and she tried to recover your confidence. “He’s like that with everyone! He likes his space. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him initiate contact with anyone on the team.”

 “But isn’t that the point, Garcia? I’m just like everyone else to him. He wants space from me.” Bitterness roiled in your stomach and dripped from your tongue. “Not very romantic, huh?” 

Trying to piece together a counterargument, she stumbled slightly, “No, I will give you that.” She paused. “But I think he’s just scared. Not of germs, not of you, but of his feelings for you. He’s not the most well-adjusted person I know.”

You chuckled lightly, gradually resuming your normally light-hearted disposition, “I would agree.”

“Well, I hope he likes his present.”

The semblance of a tired smile graced your face. “Yeah, me too.” 

You turned to walk out and had almost made it out the door when her voice stopped you. “Also, I will stop sending suspicious pop-ups to your computer.”

Peeking back through the doorway, you grinned.“I think it’d be for the best. Texting does exist for a reason.”

——— 

It had been a really good day. It wasn’t often where an entire day in the bullpen passed only with friends and laughter and love and light, but today was one of them. Snow fell silently outside the windows, but everything inside felt warm like laughing so hard that your cheeks ache and your stomach hurts.

By now, a sort of daze had befallen the team as the giddiness wore on and the alcohol set in, fuzzing eyes and minds. Most everyone had paired off after the gift exchange a few minutes prior, but no one had drifted too far. (Maybe it was the team instinct: never stray too far from the pack, but it was also likely that everyone just enjoyed the proximity to their loved ones, their family.) Garcia seemed to be in heaven, tucked into Morgan’s side on a couch that had been dragged haphazardly into the bullpen, and murmured conversation stretched on with intermittent peals of laughter. Predictably, Hotch and Rossi had sequestered themselves to a nearby desk, their scotch glasses never dry and grins never fading. (Hotch during the holidays was something special. His often frigid demeanor thawed, and out from the ice peeked his former self who wasn’t so serious. (His rare giggles were quite the surprise though.)) Emily and JJ sat on the latter’s desk, discussing anything and everything (except for psychopathic murderers), while you had pulled your chair up to sit beside Spencer at his desk. 

“So are you pleased about your gift from Rossi?” you asked, a faint grin playing at your lips.

“I am,” he replied, clearly enthused. “But I don’t think I’ll ever understand how he managed to get an authentic TARDIS key.” His finger traced the edge of the authenticity certificate Rossi had bestowed on him that sat on his desk; the key was already hanging around his neck.

You raised your eyebrows and nodded. “Well, money is a powerful thing.”

“True,” he mused before furrowing his brow. “But that’s another thing, the expense limit is not a suggestion, but he always treats it like it is. Puts all the rest of us to shame.”

“There’s no shame in an inexpensive gift!” you argued. “As long as time or thought was put in, it doesn’t matter.”

“Penelope surely didn’t skimp on time spent for yours,” he said, pointing to the homemade knitted hat and glove set on the desk beside you.

“No, I did not!” she yelled from her spot on the couch, somehow having managed to pick up on your conversation, and you laughed. “Lots and lots of time and love was poured into those!” Her speech was slightly slurred as her eggnog intake began to infringe on her lucidity.

“I know this, and I love you for it,” you beamed at her.

“I love you too.” She proceeded to bury her face in Derek’s shoulder who could only chuckle at her antics. 

You picked up a glove and inspected it. “I truly cannot comprehend how she made these. Circular knitting needles are my living hell.”

Sitting up with renewed interest, Spencer said, “If you need help with them, I could lend a hand. I knit my mom a sweater this year, and I think I finally understand how they work if you ever wanted me to show you.”

“I’d love that.” Hopefully, the flush of your cheeks could be blamed on the wine you had had. “Speaking of your mom, how is she? Are you excited to see her?”

The corners of his mouth turned up, and he nodded. “She’s good; her nurse said she’s been doing really well lately. She’s less paranoid, more alert, so I’m really excited. I think this will be a good trip.”

“I’m so glad!” You sat there with a dumb smile for a moment, your mind lagging for a moment (damn wine) before realization crashed onto you. “Wait, speaking of your mom, I have something for you!” He cocked his head to the side as you stood up and went to your desk, rifling through one of the drawers. Pulling out a neatly wrapped gift, you trotted back over and offered it to him. “This is for you.”

He took it, running a hand over the wrapping paper (it was the one with cowboys wearing Santa hats that you had found when shopping together a couple weeks before, his favorite). “(Y/N), you didn’t have to get me anything.”

Shrugging lightly, you said, “Yeah, I know we did the whole gift exchange thing, but I saw it, and I thought of you and had to get it.” And you definitely did not actively seek this out for him in the search for his perfect present. Which is something somebody who is definitely not in love with him would do.

He looked up at you, eyes already glassy and searching your face for something. You weren’t sure what he was looking for, but then he met your gaze with unwavering certainty. “Thank you, (Y/N/N).”

“No problem, ya big sap, now open it already.” 

Ever the cautious one, he opened it carefully, sliding a finger under the edge of the paper and gently easing the tape up. The small action of unwrapping a present so attentively was just so Spencer your heart swelled as you suppressed the growing grin. From the paper emerged a book.

“‘A Collection of Poems by Geoffrey Chaucer,’” he murmured, smoothing a hand over the cover.

When he didn’t immediately react, seemingly frozen, nerves crept up the back of your neck, and you sputtered out some sort of reasoning. “I know your mom used to read Chaucer to you; you mentioned ‘The Parliament of Fowls’ when we worked the Fisher King case, and it’s in this collection, and I thought it’d be fun for you to take it to Vegas and read it together and—”

Your explanation came to an abrupt halt as Spencer threw his arms around you, enveloping you in a bone-crushing hug. Immediately melting into it, you embraced him with a similar intensity and buried your face in his neck. Something in his touch allowed you to let go, and it felt like the moment you could finally exhale. 

A breath you’d been holding for longer than you could remember. 

You could smell the cologne that he wore for ‘special occasions’ and his shampoo and something so faint but so undeniably him, and his hand slid up to the back of your head, cradling it in the most tender fashion, and you felt like you could cry. So you pulled him closer, and he did the same.

The hug definitely lasted longer than what most people would find comfortable, but neither of you could be convinced to retreat until you became aware of the silence that had settled over the bullpen. You felt the many pairs of eyes on you, and it pained you to pry yourself off of Spencer. Breathless, you looked around at the shocked faces of your co-workers who sat with mouths agape and eyes wide. You coughed slightly to try to ease the tension and then for some reason beyond your knowledge, you decided to wave at them in the most awkward fashion. Sitting back down, you could feel stares lingering as conversation resumed, and you looked up at Reid who looked like a deer in headlights. You laughed quietly, tugging his sleeve until he received the memo and sat down again. 

He cleared his throat and avoided eye contact, glancing at his present. “Thank you for the book, (Y/N/N).”

“You’re welcome,” you replied, your tone earnest as ever. Still reeling from the hug, you faintly became aware of the speed of your heartbeat and unconsciously brought a hand to your chest. You attempted fruitlessly to sort through your raging thoughts, while across from you, Spencer tried to think of something, anything to say now. 

He couldn’t really believe he’d done it. His germaphobia remained everpresent, but somehow the emotion welling in his chest at your sincerity and benevolence had overridden it, and he felt helpless in stopping himself. His heart had lurched in his chest as if it was suddenly struck with the need to be in your hands, propelling him forward. But it wasn’t like he hadn’t wanted to. He had wanted to for so long, but he’d never mustered the courage before. There was something so special, so intimate about touch, and so many people gave it so freely, and he just didn’t understand how they could allow themselves the indulgence. The absolute luxury of giving and receiving love. Spencer often felt like he sat by a window, watching his life pass by outside of it, and he had always wanted to open it, to really experience all the joy and all the grief and all the love that was waiting for him, but it was scary to open himself up to those feelings and the hurt that could ensue. So, he usually sat discontented by his window. But today, it was like he’d grabbed a hammer and smashed the glass completely and stepped through to be able to return the love you had offered him. 

It felt so good.

But now, he had no idea what to do. He stood there in the midst of the shattered glass, and deep down, he knew had to take the last couple steps to get to you, but he didn’t know how. 

His fingers fidgeted in his lap as he analyzed your blank face, trying to find something to give him the next direction when a realization hit him. “I didn’t get you anything!”

Drawn back from the depths of whatever thought you had been stuck in, you met his gaze and shook your head. “Seriously, don’t worry about it. I broke the gift exchange rules to get you something, so you had no way of knowing.”

“But I feel terrible.” His eyebrows drew together, and he frantically tried to think of some way to repay you. “You get me an incredibly lovely and wonderfully thoughtful gift, and I’m the loser who didn’t get his best friend a present!”

“Spencer—”

“Wait!” he interrupted, a revelation arriving. (He knew how to take the last steps.) “When I get back after the holidays, do you want to get dinner with me? Then, we can go to the bookstore on 10th that you love, and you can pick out a book, and I’ll pay.”

Your eyes widened further than you thought possible, and your heart which had only partially recovered was off to the races once again. You decided to take the plunge and ask the burning question. “Do you—um, do you mean like a date?”

“Yeah,” he answered, beaming so brightly. “Yes. Like a date. If you want to.”

You held each other’s gaze, and the warmth that had filled the bullpen all day filled your chests, and you smiled so hard your faces hurt. 

So silly, you thought, to have wasted all this time boarding up my affection and keeping it tucked away, safe and useless.

So ridiculous, he thought, to have sat by that stupid window for so many years when the real thing feels so sweet.

“I think I’d like that a lot.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #anon i hope u enjoy!!!! #this was only written between the hours of 1 and 3 am so if that impacts the quality i am terribly sorry #but i like some of the end of it so we'll see #:) #<3 #also am i legally allowed to post a fic that doesn't have a bsf garcia scene? no #all the homies liking this at 3:26 am? i love u

[kaen-ace-of-diamonds]

Cinderquil

Word Count: 4900+ (oneshot)

[AO3]

Genre: Fluff/Friendship

Characters: Cinder Fall, Cinder’s Pokemon

Summary: Pokemon AU. Ever since they were young, Cinder's only Pokemon has been her starter, Ella the Houndoom. She is proud of her position as her Trainer's sole companion and sees no reason for anything to change, thank you very much. So when Cinder brings home a new addition to their team, Ella's world is turned abruptly upside down.

Warnings for implied/reference child abuse and animal abuse

Inspired by this art by @astoria00!

~0~

Ella, like her Trainer, had no concept of downplaying her own importance.

She considered herself the paragon of partner Pokemon. Ever since she was a little Houndour, tripping over her own paws and barely able to cough out a flame, she had always done her best to look after Cinder. The girl she had grown up with was whip-smart and strong, as hotblooded as any Fire-type, and Ella would follow her commands without hesitation. 

That being said, she didn’t always understand what was going on in Cinder’s head. For instance, coming to this unfriendly and unfamiliar region on the orders of that shadowy organization. Sure, the safe house they’d been provided was comfortable, a small and cozy cabin in the woods, but, Ella wondered, at what cost? She had been alone for hours. 

Ella watched the thick forest around her with all the alertness of a hunter, gnawing at the large Grumpig ear she had been given. It was not hard work, guarding the cabin while Cinder was out on her mission, and it was clear that Ella was better suited for the job than Talonflame. The Flying-type had been lent to Cinder by her new leader for easy transportation, and while the supercilious look in his eyes got Ella’s hackles up, she didn’t feel threatened by the new addition. Talonflame was, if not temporary, nothing more than a utility. 

Ella was Cinder’s only Pokemon. As for Ella herself, she disdained the company of both humans and other Pokemon alike. None of them had ever done anything for her: all she needed was her Trainer.

It was growing dark, and she could smell impending rain in the air — not unusual, in this awful cold and wet region — and was glad when she caught Cinder’s scent alongside it, growing steadily closer. She did not move from her spot on the front porch, but her ears perked up and her gaze homed in on the speck of red in the distance. Small as it was, it stood out against the dark greens and cloudy greys that surrounded them. 

Ella didn’t scramble up and run to her as she would have in the past — she had learned professionalism alongside Cinder as well — but her shoulders relaxed and her barbed tail flopped back and forth against the wood. Finally, her Trainer was home and things were the way they were supposed to—

Wait a blasted minute. 

What was that?

“Hello, Ella,” Cinder greeted her as she stepped out of the trees, as if everything were normal. “Did you miss me?”

Ella jumped to her feet with a furious bark, the Grumpig ear clattering down the stairs. Her tail stood straight out and her head reflexively jerked up and down, showing off her horns to the tiny, dirty, squirming thing that Cinder was carrying into their house. 

To the Cyndaquil’s credit, she got the picture immediately. She didn’t even try to flare up her back before emitting a loud squeak and attempting to leap out of Cinder’s arms, presumably to scurry back to whatever hole in the ground she had come from.

Unfortunately, instead of coming to her senses and letting it go, Cinder held Cyndaquil tighter, close and protective. After a few seconds, she curled up timidly against her chest. 

“Shh, relax, it’s okay. Ella’s not going to hurt you.” She narrowed her eyes warningly at Ella as she walked up the stairs and into the cabin. “Ella is going to be a nice girl and hear me out.”

No, Ella damn well would not. Not without standing her ground and making her case. She followed Cinder inside growling and bristling. 

Once the door was shut behind them, the one Pokeball at Cinder’s belt burst open, and Talonflame flapped across the living area to his perch next to the fireplace. His beady black eyes watched them with unusual interest, and Ella resented the sense that she was putting on a show for him.

What’s gotten into you?! she barked at her Trainer, who had begun trying to coax Cyndaquil out of her defensive ball. You said all you needed was me! Why would you do this without even asking me?

True, all Cinder could hear was “Houndoom Houndoom Houndoom Houndoom,” but after all this time, Ella knew she was getting the gist of it. 

“I realize that this is sudden,” Cinder began, her tone deliberately calm and even. “But I couldn’t exactly leave her there and run back to check with you. And we can’t just toss her out now that I’ve brought her here.”

Ella snorted. Very convenient for both of them. And how soon can I expect to be replaced? Was I that shameful of a starter?

With her free hand, Cinder reached over to grab a towel from the kitchenette and started rubbing the dirt from Cyndaquil’s damp fur. She let out a muffled squeak at the sudden touch, but didn’t uncurl.

“I expected to run into some people while I was out, that wasn’t the problem. There’s plenty of towns and cave systems around these mountains to look through. I didn’t plan on actually battling anyone, but apparently somebody on the trails had something to prove. One of those rich boys — you know the type, of course.”

Yes, they had met more than enough of those in their time. One of Cinder’s new teammates even seemed like one all grown up, complete with an equally smug Toxitricity by his side. Ella didn’t relax at all — in fact, her shoulders tensed up more — nor did she soften her accusing glare, but she did cease growling.

“So he won’t take no for an answer, won’t even break eye contact, and I decide that if he insists, I might as well teach him a lesson. He had three other Pokemon, and they were high-level but sloppy. I’d bet money that he didn’t catch them himself, that they were gifts or trades that he had no idea how to actually deal with. Talonflame made short work of them, but then — hm?”

Cyndaquil had been starting to lift her nose tentatively out of her defensive ball, and only now that she wasn’t too frightened to think did she notice the running slow cooker and containers of Pokemon food on the counter. The realization made her pick her head up and squeak loudly, and the smile that broke out on Cinder’s face was of the sort that Ella hadn’t seen in years.

“Are you hungry? I know, you’ve had a long day...” She dug around in the box of PokePuffs — not strictly belonging to Ella, but who else’s would they be? — and pulled out a Basic Spice to offer it. “Here, you can have this, can’t you?”

Cyndaquil sniffed the treat, and gnawed at it a little, but didn’t move to take or actually eat it. Cinder sighed. 

“Well, I had hoped so, but I guess not.” 

She gently pushed the treat into Cyndaquil’s stubby arms until they gripped it, and then knelt to set the tiny Pokemon on the floor. Ella tilted her head as she scowled down at her: what was the matter with her, stumbling around like that? Had she hit her head somehow?

Cinder shot Ella a warning glance that, in Ella’s mind, was completely uncalled for. “Be nice.”

Ella huffed, and stalked deliberately closer. Cyndaquil paused in trying to figure out what the PokePuff she held was, and looked worriedly between the human and Houndoom glaring at each other. Once Cinder was satisfied that Ella would not, in fact, rip the smaller Pokemon’s head off like some kind of feral beast, she turned around and started going through the cabinets and minifridge. 

“I did beat his whole team, as far as I’m concerned,” she went on with her story as she retrieved the big saucepan and a carton of milk. “All the ones who were fit for battle. But when I held out my hand for the money he owed me, he went purple in the face and insisted that we weren’t done. He pulled another Pokeball out of his pocket, and sent her out. And of course she had no idea what was going on, did you, dear?”

Cyndaquil blinked, puzzled, and nearly tripped over her own chubby legs. Ella’s anger was very quickly giving way to confusion of her own; she knew that the average starter Pokemon wasn’t wildly powerful, to match its equally inexperienced Trainer, but surely they started at at least level one?

“No, she didn’t. I don’t know what garbage breeder they got her from, but she was definitely not ready to be separated from her mother. Even Talonflame backed off.”

Something finally clicked in Ella’s head, and her eyes went wide. She lunged forward, claws clacking on the hardwood floor, to sniff vigorously at Cyndaquil, who nearly fell over backwards in surprise. Under the rainwater and dirt, the scent of juvenile pheromones was unmistakable.

From up on his perch, Talonflame chirruped, amused. It really took you this long to notice? Do you usually growl at baby humans, too?

Ella was too stunned to even bark back. True, she didn’t spend any time around other Pokemon, but she should still have known...

“Obviously this spoiled brat had no business keeping her in his care,” Cinder said, stirring vanilla and cinnamon into the simmering pan. “But fortunately, it was very simple to set up an exchange.”

Talonflame chirruped, amused. Your Trainer throws a mean Mach Punch, Ella.

Cinder smirked at the fresh memory. With her free hand, she reached into her hip pouch, pulled out the shards of a shattered Pokeball, and tossed them into the trash can. Ella heard muffled clinks, and caught a glimpse of a coin purse that definitely was not theirs. Or, well, it hadn’t been before.

“I think it’s about time we start expanding our team, anyway. We’re in service to a very powerful leader now. We should be meeting a higher standard.” She glanced at Ella while digging back in the cabinet for the Vespiquen honey, and amended, “An even higher standard. I know this was a shock to you, Ella, and I don’t expect you to babysit her. But I couldn’t imagine a better example for her than you.”

Well. Ella couldn’t argue with that. She considered Cyndaquil for a moment more, watched her twitch her nose curiously up at her, and then ducked her head down to take the smaller Pokemon’s scruff in her mouth. As expected, she was still young enough that she went limp in her teeth.

Cinder blinked, but didn’t move to stop her. “Ella? What are you doing?”

Ella didn’t respond; she was already carrying Cyndaquil over to the living area. She laid down on the rug, deposited Cyndaquil between her front legs, and set about licking her short, downy fur. She wasn’t sure how Typhlosion mothers usually groomed their young — she barely remembered how her own mother had done it — but this felt right. 

Cinder smiled and returned her attention to the pan on the stove. Cyndaquil, for her part, didn’t seem upset, but she was certainly confused.

Who... She was cut off by Ella’s wide tongue sweeping over the top of her head, but tried again. Who are you?

My name is Ella, she informed her, making sure to get the back of her neck. Cinder’s hasty rub with the towel hadn’t done anywhere near enough to rid her of the residue on her fur, and it certainly hadn’t done anything for the scrapes on the skin underneath. I am your teammate now. 

Oh. Cyndaquil squirmed around some more until she could look up at Cinder’s back. That lady’s nice. And warm.

Her name is Cinder. She is your Trainer, and you should do as she tells you.

My Trainer’s sleeping on the ground back there, Cyndaquil said with innocent bluntness. I don’t think he got up yet. 

Talonflame let out a deliberate, throaty laugh, and Ella shot a warning glare over her shoulder before returning to her ministrations. 

You can forget about him, she insisted to Cyndaquil. All you need now is us. 

Perhaps it was only because Cyndaquil was too young to fully grasp the reality of her new situation, but she didn’t question it any further. Instead, she settled down between Ella’s front legs and continued to watch Cinder make her dinner, submitting to a thorough grooming as she did so. 

Talonflame tilted his head back and forth as he stared down at them. You’ve changed your tune quickly, haven’t you, Ella?

Shut up, said Ella curtly, in between licks. You’re not staying.

We’ll see about that, Talonflame replied, too lazily to be threatening, as he tucked his head beneath his wing for a brief nap. Wake me when dinner’s ready, will you? 

Ella made a noncommittal noise in the back of her throat. She couldn’t find the room to care about that right now. Not when the cabin was steadily filling with sweet and savory scents, when the room was growing warm in the way it only did when the evening chill was falling outside, when there was a sense of comfort settling into her bones that she hadn’t felt in quite a long time. 

Not since...ah.

Ella looked up at Cinder, who gave her a knowing smile back. Of course she remembered too.

~0~

It’s only the adrenaline surging through her veins that’s keeping her moving. She just wants to run, run, run, as far and as fast as she can, because if she stops for an instant they’ll catch her and drag her back, but she can’t feel her paws anymore and it’s very quickly not her decision. 

The driving rain is already making it hard to see what’s in front of her, but then her vision blurs out completely, and she’s dropped right into a puddle before she even realizes her legs have buckled from underneath her. She doesn’t have the strength even to struggle back to her feet. All she can do is shuffle on her stomach through the mud, inch by miserable inch, until the sore tips of her toes brush rock, leaving behind smears of blood that are quickly washed away.

Her eyes flick upward: less of a cave than a hole in the ground, but she’ll take it. It’s a painful squeeze through an opening that’s just barely bigger than her own body. When she finally manages it, she collapses, lying like a wet pile of fur on the rough stone. Even here’s not really dry — cold runoff drips steadily right into her ear — but she couldn’t move to a better spot even if she tried.

She closes her eyes, the sound of her own labored breathing filling her head. She doesn’t know if she’ll ever get up again, and right now, she doesn’t much care. All that matters is that she’s not moving, that no one can touch her here.

So it takes her a good minute to register the strange scent wafting into her nostrils, underneath the heavy smells of rain and earth: acrid enough to make her nose twitch and fur raise. With a colossal effort, she lifts her head an inch, and finally notices that she is not alone here.

Barely a few feet away, desperately trying to cram herself into the far corner of the cave, is a human not much bigger than her. A little girl, just as skinny and soaked as she is, her amber eyes huge with terror. She wonders what she’s so afraid of — wonders if there’s anything behind her, if she should be afraid too — before realizing.

Oh. This was your hiding place first.

The girl doesn’t seem to have been here long: she’s out of breath, eyes puffy and red, and none of the mud spattering her once-white shirt and pants has dried. She gapes at her for a long moment, before hesitantly scooting forward and reaching out towards her ears.

What ear she has left pricks straight up. She might have intruded on this human, sure, but that doesn’t mean she gets to touch her.

Her hackles raise, her lips pull back, and she snaps at the offending fingers the second she realizes where they’re going. She misses — the girl gasps and scrambles back again, holding her hand protectively to her chest — and her smooth, flat-topped teeth clack painfully together.

“I-I’m sorry!” the girl yelps. “It’s just...you’re hurt.”

She’s fine. So what if her ears and tail had been cut into this awful shape? So what if she’s been robbed of her fangs, and now her claws? She’s still a Pokemon and not some spoiled brat’s toy. Still strong, strong enough to defend herself against one pathetic human. 

She growls, but it’s weak even to her own ears. She is strong, it’s either tell herself that or lose hope completely, but she’s running on fumes. If she can’t fight back...if she can’t make them stop touching her...

The girl is doing something puzzling now, and it almost makes her let down her guard. She’s pawing at her shirt as if looking for something, but it doesn’t seem to have any pockets or other affectations. Then after a moment, to her shock, she grabs the one part of it that isn’t filthy, tears a long strip away, then tears that in half with a soft snap.

“Here...” She edges closer, slowing but not quite stopping at her growls. “I — I get it if you don’t want me touching your face. But your paws are bleeding, and...”

She narrows her eyes and keeps her teeth bared in warning: with the combustion pouch in her throat snipped or punctured or even pulled out entirely, whatever they had done to it, a cigarette lighter could produce a bigger flame than she can right now. But she doesn’t have to act like it.

The girl bites back a whimper, the smell of fear still coming off her in waves. “I’m not trying to hurt you, I promise. I just want to help. Please?”

Growls keep bubbling up from her throat, but they’re half-hearted. Against every instinct, she slides her front paws forward. The wounds on her half-amputated toes sting when the scratchy fabric wraps around them, but it’s a small relief to have the bleeding finally staunched.

The girl smiles. “There. Better?”

This close, she can see in the girl’s sunken cheeks and ashen skin how starved she is, spot the jagged outline of a fresh scar around her neck. The faint smell of human blood, not quite covered up by the muck, reaches her nose. Oh. So they really are in the same boat. 

She goes quiet, and tries to relax, and is rewarded with the fear-scent steadily receding.

“My name’s Cinder. Do you have a name?”

She heaves a deep sigh in response; she’s never been called anything but mongrel, dumb mutt, dirty animal, and she’s pretty sure those don’t count as names.

“No? I’ll think of one for you, then. Just give me a little bit, I’ve never named anyone befo—aah!”

Thunder shakes what felt like the whole world around them, and they both jump so badly they hit their heads on the painfully low walls. She lets out a whine despite herself, curling tightly in on herself to keep from shaking. Cinder doesn’t look much happier, but instead of recoiling...

“Here...” Cinder mimics her, getting down and snuggling up next to her back on the floor. “I know I’m not very warm, but I should be better than nothing.”

She makes a soft noise of assent. When Cinder slings an arm over her shoulders, hugging her body close and gently petting her flank, it doesn’t exactly make her feel fuzzy on the inside. But it stirs something deep in her chest that she doesn’t have a name for yet, and it’s a welcome distraction from the cold and wet.

“We can stay here until the storm stops. We could figure out where to go together,” Cinder suggests, in a hesitant murmur. “We could be friends.”

Friends. She’s never heard the word before, and isn’t sure what it means, but she wouldn’t mind finding out. She twists her head around and licks Cinder’s cheek, and the girl giggles like she’s never tried to before.

The rain drives down hard and punishing outside, washing away all traces of them. Freezing droplets fall on them from the roof. They’re hungry, dirty, and shivering, with no idea of what they’re supposed to do next. But tonight they’re huddled together, the world outside this cramped little cave does not exist, and for the first time in their lives, they aren’t alone.

 ~0~

“Dinnertime,” Cinder said, balancing four dishes as she came into the living area. Talonflame stirred and flapped down from his perch to join them as she served the meal: beef stew from the slow cooker for the three of them and warm spiced milk for Cyndaquil.

The baby Pokemon let out her loudest squeak yet and bounced out of Ella’s legs when the dish was set beside her, but stopped short of actually going for it, looking up at them hesitantly.

“Go on. It’s all for you, dear.”

Cinder, sitting cross-legged on the floor with them, smiled as she watched the tiny Pokemon scramble eagerly towards the milk.

“You like it? There’s plenty more where that came from. We’re going to raise you to be big and strong, and one day nobody will dare mistreat you. Right, Ella?”

Ella loyally thumped her tail on the hardwood floor: she knew better than anyone. She knew that she wasn’t the starter Pokemon that every child dreamed about, nor, she conceded, had Cinder begun as the cool and confident Trainer that any Pokemon would want. But still they had fought every day to survive together, to become strong enough that nobody could ever lay a hand on them again. 

She had evolved under Cinder’s command, and with evolution the body parts that had been carved away from her when she was young were restored to her. Most importantly, it had given her her fire back, and she knew in her heart that she would never have been able to reach that point on her own.

It was just like Cinder used to say, in the dead of one of their countless nights huddled up together: It’s all right if nobody else loves us. All we need is each other.

That had held steadfastly true for them, from childhood to adulthood. Ella saw no reason why the same could not apply to Cyndaquil, if she herself were magnanimous enough to allow it.

As she gulped down tender chunks of beef, she watched the tiny Pokemon lapping up the milk so earnestly she seemed in danger of falling headfirst into the dish. It had taken Ella a long time to train herself out of scarfing her food down like that, so fast she didn’t even taste it, to be sure that nobody would snatch it away from her now. 

Though Toxitricity and Drapion still acted as if they would sometimes, just to get a rise out of her. While she was still small, Cyndaquil would be free to take refuge behind her legs or in Cinder’s arms, but soon Ella would have to teach her how to stand up for herself, and to not roll over for them or anyone else. There were a lot of things the two of them — three, if Talonflame decided to make himself useful — would be responsible for teaching their newest member. She ought to start making a list.

Not that there was much room in her head for that right now. Cyndaquil polished off the milk before the rest of them were halfway finished with their meal, and after licking the dish clean, she looked up and glanced uncertainly around at the three of them. 

Now that there was nothing to distract her, it was starting to sink in that she was all by herself, in a strange place surrounded by strange people, with no idea what was going to happen to her next. Ella knew that feeling: the sudden drop in her stomach, the cold spreading like frost over her skin. She remembered. She expected that Cinder did, too. 

Her Trainer was watching Cyndaquil intently, and at the first tiny whimper that might have been the prelude to crying, she set her bowl aside and held out her arms. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Want to come here?”

With only slight reluctance, Cyndaquil allowed Cinder to scoop her into her lap. Smiling, she rubbed the tiny Pokemon’s belly with one hand and scratched the back of her neck, just above the incendiary spots, with the other. Cyndaquil let out a series of high-pitched cheeps and squirmed happily in her lap, clearly unused to such affection.

“There, you see?” Cinder cooed, as Cyndaquil twisted around so she could scratch under her chin. “Nothing to be afraid of. This is your home now, with me and your big sister Ella.”

Ella! Ella! Cyndaquil squeaked, delighted. She says we’re sisters!

Ella swallowed a chunk of potato and tilted her head at them. Sister. Another word she would soon be learning to embody.

~0~

The next morning, Ella found her need to pace militarily when impatient at war with her utter disgust of wetness and mud. They had planned a schedule for Cyndaquil’s first full day with them yesterday evening, and it would not do at all to start slacking so soon.

Last night, Cyndaquil had tried to sleep in the corner of the bedroom at first, clearly too used to being shunted out of the way. She had needed plenty of coaxing from Cinder and a commanding bark from Ella to feel safe climbing up onto the bed and letting herself be tucked in between them.

She had slept restlessly, kicking and yelping in her dreams, needing constant soothing to calm down. In the morning Ella had had to drag her exhausted body out from under her blanket, shaking the sleep out of her head. Even Cinder, who had always been a light sleeper anyway, had been rubbing her eyes as Cyndaquil followed her out of the bedroom, bouncing at her heels. Arceus only knew where the little Pokemon had gotten so much energy from.

Ella lifted a paw and shook excess mud from it, her lip curling. Cinder had said that they would only be a minute, it had now been several, and if they didn’t get out here in the next ten seconds she was going to march in there and drag her Trainer out with her teeth—

“Being patient, Ella?”

Ella turned and fixed Cinder with A Look as she watched her coming down the front steps of the cabin, determined not to return her easy smile just yet. She was supposed to have been introducing Cyndaquil to a new Pokeball, but as it happened...

“Yes, I know,” Cinder said, reaching up to steady Cyndaquil as she sprawled happily on her belly, atop her new Trainer’s head. “She does have a new Pokeball now, but I think she likes it better here with us. Right, dear?”

Cyndaquil chirped assent, grinning and swinging her stubby legs.

“You’ll need a proper name soon, too. But training comes first, so watch your sister carefully, now. Ella, if you would?”

Ella gave a firm nod and stepped back, facing the open space in front of the two of them, so Cyndaquil could get a good view of what she was about to demonstrate. The smaller Pokemon, while still idly playing with Cinder’s bangs, was staring transfixed at her. Ella doubted whether she could even muster up an Ember yet, let alone try Flamethrower. Well, then all the better a show for her.

She would never again take for granted how good it felt to flex the muscles in her throat and get her combustion pouch working. It was like taking a gulp of sweet smoke, sparklers lighting just under her skin, as the heat surged up from within her.

Maybe the need to show off to someone younger, which she had never had the chance to do before, gave her some extra fuel: the flames that burst from her mouth burned hotter and stronger than ever, brightening the overcast morning and sending steam hissing up from the puddles before her. 

Cinder gave her an approving smirk and some soft applause, but Cyndaquil couldn’t contain herself.

Wow! She took a flying leap off of Cinder’s head and scurried to Ella’s side, mimicking her battle pose. My turn, my turn!

She opened her mouth, throat straining and tail sticking straight out, only to cough up the measliest crumb of flame that Ella had ever seen. It extinguished itself almost as soon as it had been ignited.

Oh, Cyndaquil said plaintively, tail drooping. I...

Ella gave her a nudge with her snout that she hoped was uplifting. Will try again, that’s what you’ll do. As long as it takes. Don’t look so downcast.

“Whatever Ella’s saying to you, she’s right, dear,” Cinder chimed in. “We’re going to become the strongest, but not overnight.”

You do have an advantage. I had to figure this all out on my own. Ella re-assumed her attack position. She would go slower this time, explain the physical aspects of combustion that were innate to all Fire-types, so the little one could better lean in to what felt most natural. You have me to look after you. And when you’re finally ready to be in a real battle, you’ll be far more prepared than the others. Understand?

Cyndaquil nodded very seriously, then mirrored her once more, sparks flying already from her arched back. 

Good. Now, watch closely...

#self indulgent pokemon AU is self indulgent #cinder fall #RWBY #pokemon #houndoom #cyndaquil #kaen's fics

[freddie-weaselbee]

E3: The One with the Wedding//F.W.

Series Summary: FRIENDS but with Harry Potter characters after Hogwarts graduation, trying to figure out their lives and relationships. Non Voldy AU. 

Pairing(s): Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader, Ron x Lavender, Romione

Warnings: Language, mentions of food, drinking (legal), mentions of sex, nudity

Summary: As Hermione hustles to interrupt Ron and Lavender’s wedding in New York City, Fred and Y/N have a heart to heart which quickly turns into something much more. 

Word Count: 4.8k

A/N: This may or may not be 9 days late (my b) but it’s the 5th and final fic in Abby’s Week of Weasley !! The FRIENDS series will continue!

Message me to join the FRIENDS taglist or my general taglist

-Episode 1-  -Episode 2-

~Abby’s Week of Weasley Masterlist~  ~Masterlist~

May 2004

Previously on FRIENDS

“Hey Luna?” Hermione called from her bedroom. She and her friend had spent the day discussing her feelings for Ron and trying their best to help her get over him. Apparently recounting the horrors of their relationship was not helping in the slightest. 

“Yeah,” Luna called back from the kitchen. 

“Do you remember where the pygmy puff food is?” Her muffled voice sounded rushed and anxious, even more so than Hermione usually was. 

“Yeah, it’s under the front counter of Fred and George’s shop. Why?”

Luna turned her head to see Hermione come flying into the room dragging a packed suitcase behind her. “Because I’m going to New York.”

The pregnant girl nearly had a heart attack at Hermione’s declaration. “What? What do you mean you’re going to New York?”

Hermione grabbed a few more essentials from around the apartment, rushing in order to catch the next flight. “Yeah, I have to tell Ronald that I love him. Now Luna, you take care, you don’t have those babies until I get back.”

“I--but what about all of the finding his flaws and burning his picture rituals we’ve been doing?” Luna asked, straining to stand up and chase after her friend. 

Hermione easily moved past the slow-moving girl, zipping up her bag and heading to the door. “Yeah, that didn’t work. I know he loves Lavender but I have to tell him how I feel! He deserves to have all of the information and then he can make an informed decision.”

Phoebe shook her head and continued to hobble around the room. “No, Hermione, it’s too late, you missed your chance! I’m sorry, I know this must be really hard, it’s over.”

The other girl paused for a moment and took a deep breath. “Y’know what? No. It’s not over until someone says ‘I do.’” And with that she took off out of the apartment and to the streets of Diagon Alley, on her way to another country to declare her love for Ron Weasley. 

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

“Would you look at this place,” George sighed in awe, staring around at the beautifully decorated dinner hall. There were chandeliers hanging everywhere and everyone was dressed in clothes that looked like they cost more than everything the Weasleys owned combined. Fred and George twisted uncomfortably in their mediocre suits. Sure, they were successful businessmen with some money to spare, but they could never compete with this. 

“Holy shit,” you said, coming up behind the twins. They turned around, startled to see you suddenly appear. Fred took a second to look you up and down, mouth hanging slightly open in surprise. 

“Holy shit is right, Y/N,” he said. “You look bloody amazing!” You glanced down at your outfit, a slim fitting long dress that hugged your form perfectly. You smiled and did a little twirl for the boys who whooped and whistled at you. 

“While I appreciate the compliment,” you said, “I was talking about the hall. How rich is Lavender’s family anyway?”

Fred shrugged. “Apparently loaded. I mean, it’s not like our family could ever compete with this. How Ron was able to pull someone this high up is a mystery to me.”

He and George picked at their clothes self consciously, trying to straighten their ties and smooth out their suits. 

“Oh come now,” you said, “you two are perfectly successful. Who cares if the Browns could afford to buy all of London if they wanted to? Let’s just enjoy the night and eat all of the expensive food they bought!”

“Y/N, you’re my dream girl,” Fred said, putting his arm around your waist. “If you ever want to marry a Weasley, I’d be happy to oblige.”

“I appreciate the offer, Weasley, but I do think George and I would be a couple to be reckoned with.”

“Ha! Suck it Fred, I get Y/N and you’re stuck alone,” George said, kissing your cheek and stealing you away from his brother. 

Fred was about to reply when a loud voice echoed through the room and everyone turned to see a short red haired woman come hurtling through the door. 

“Mum!” cried Ron from across the room. He grabbed Lavender’s hand and they made their way over where you and the twins were standing, now accompanied by the latest arrivals, Molly and Arthur Weasley. 

“Sweetheart!” Molly squealed, pulling him into a tight hug. “Oh sorry we’re late, Muggle transportation is such a hassle, especially in this country. Your father spent 20 minutes trying to figure out how to call a taxi and he wouldn’t stop asking the driver everything you could ask!”

“I still never got an answer to my rubber duck question,” Arthur grumbled before a warm smile appeared on his face. “Hello, Lavender, it’s lovely to see you again.”

“You as well!” she said before hugging Arthur and then Molly. “Oh, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, here come my parents.”

Sure enough, two very wealthy looking people were walking over to join their daughter and future son in law. 

“Hello, hello,” said Lavender’s father, shaking the hands of the Weasleys. “How do you do? Very nice to meet all of you.” He glanced over at his wife. “Darling, it’s the Weasleys.”

“Sorry, what?,” she said, finally looking up at the family, a hint of distaste in her gaze. “Oh, lovely to meet you.” Her snobby look never faltered, making the rest of the Weasley clan even more uncomfortable. 

Arthur cleared his throat. “It’s great to meet you both. I’m sorry we couldn’t help pay for much of the wedding, but we hope that we can at least cover the cost of dinner tonight.”

“Yes of course,” said Molly. “We know how expensive weddings can be, besides this may be the last time I watch one of my sons get married.” 

Fred and George rolled their eyes at their mother, who wouldn’t stop pestering them to settle down since Bill, Percy, and now Ron were all either married or close to it. 

“We’ve heard the complaints, mum,” said Fred. 

“But hey, at least we’re saving you money!” George said. 

“And not giving me grandchildren,” she mumbled, but loud enough for everyone to hear. 

You decided to jump in and defend your friends. “At least you’ve still got other kids who are starting their own families, Molly. And besides, do you really want to have these two bring little Fred’s and George’s into the world?”

Molly smiled and put her hand on your shoulder. “I suppose you’re right dear. They were, and still are, quite a handful.”

“Hey!” they both shouted, clearly offended.

You giggled and wandered off with Molly, telling her the latest stories of the many troubles the twins had gotten into. 

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

Hermione, never one for athletics, was suddenly an Olympic sprinter, flying down the halls of the London airport. She reached the ticket counter, cutting off some very angry travelers, and threw her bags onto the scale. 

After a few long seconds of leaning over and catching her breath, she finally muttered a “hi” to the ticket agent. 

“Hello,” she replied cheerfully. 

“Oh, umm, hello!” Hermione replied, mirroring the chipperness of the agent. “When is your next flight to New York City?”

“There’s one leaving in 30 minutes,” she replied. 

“Oh, thank Godric,” she muttered, earning herself a few odd looks from passersby at her unique choice of language. 

The woman behind the counter typed a few things into her computer. “The last minute fare on this ticket is twenty seven hundred dollars.”

Hermione reached around in her purse, fumbling with gold and silver coins. “How about galleons?” she asked. 

“I’m sorry?”

“Nevermind,” Hermione sighed, sprinting off again to apparate to Diagon Alley and exchange her galleons for Muggle money. There was no way she was going to miss this flight. 

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

“I’d like to make a toast!” Fred announced, standing up from his table with a wine glass in hand. “Ron and Lavender. Of course, my big toast will be tomorrow at the wedding, so this is kind of my little toast or Melba toast, if you will.”

He was only met with silence and you and George very visibly facepalmed. 

“Okay…” he continued hesitantly. “I’ve known Ron for a long time. His whole life, actually. See I got the first two years of my life without my baby brother, but nope he’s always had me, and I know he’s so incredibly grateful for that.”

When once again there was no reaction, Fred decided it was time to up the performance. 

“I remember when Ron was going out with his first girlfriend. And I thought things were going to work out for him. Until the day he over inflated her!” Fred winked at his little brother, whose face was redder than his hair. For the third time in the last minute Fred did not get anywhere close to the reaction he had expected. “Oh dear Godric…”

“How about I take over for you, Freddie.” George said, taking the microphone from his slightly older brother. “Everyone knows I am the more charming twin, isn’t that right?” He was met with some soft giggles and a whoop from one of the bridesmaids sitting a few tables away. Fred begrudgingly plopped down into his seat, leaning his head on your shoulder as he pouted for the rest of the dinner. 

As everyone finished their speeches, you giving one about your friendship with Ron that even brought Molly to tears, you found yourself sprawled out on a fancy couch still consoling Fred. 

“I was laughing,” you said while patting him on the knee. 

“Out loud?” he asked, crossing his arms and shoving your hand away. 

You looked down at your wine glass guiltily. “Well I didn’t want everyone to think I was stupid.” Fred groaned and buried his face in his hands, ruffling his hair in frustration that you knew went deeper than a few poor jokes. “Hey, how are you doing?”

He looked up at you questioningly, cocking his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t try to hide it from me, Freddie, I can tell when something’s bothering you, and I know it’s not just that your jokes sucked arse.”

“No, the audience sucked arse, I’m fucking hilarious.” You kicked him lightly, urging him to tell you. With a long sigh Fred sat up and turned to face you, his big brown eyes void of their usual cheerful gleam. “Mum’s driving me crazy! I mean, I get it, she wants me to get married and settle down and have kids, but she has 6 other children, two of them with kids of their own already! I don’t know, this whole wedding thing has just put a lot more pressure on me, that’s all.”

You tenderly rubbed his shoulder, feeling him relax slightly at your touch. “Don’t listen to her, ok? Marriage isn’t for everyone. Same with kids. You’re independent and carefree, and you shouldn’t feel like you have to settle down if you don’t want to.”

He mumbled something under his breath, too quiet for you to hear. “What?” 

“I said…” he began slowly, “I said that it’s not that. It’s the complete opposite actually.”

Fred glanced across the room at his youngest brother holding hands with his fiancée and whispering something into her ear. “It’s just...he’s my younger brother. He’s Ron, for Merlin’s sake! How did Ron get a girl before me?”

“Aww, is Freddie jealous of his little brother?” you teased, knocking your shoulder into his. When he didn’t answer you tried to sober up, not used to seeing this side of Fred. 

“I’m 26, Y/N,” he cried out. “And I know that’s not old or anything, but I just figured I’d have my life together by now. Maybe a long term girlfriend, or even--” he paused for a moment, continuing to watch Ron and Lavender. “--or maybe it would’ve been me walking down the aisle with someone I love.”

“Come here, love,” you cooed as you pulled Fred into your chest. “You know there’s no rush. Sure Ron’s getting married, but I think he found himself the only person in the world who’d ever date him and he had to tie her down quick.”

Fred shuddered into your chest with a small laugh, bringing his hands up to aimlessly play with your hair. “Yeah,” he said, “and we all know that the girls are lined up just waiting for me. I guess I’ve got time.”

“Exactly. And plenty of it.” Fred continued to play with your hair as you did the same with his, occasionally scratching at his scalp and listening to the quiet whimpers he would let out. 

He shifted so he was looking up at you, mere inches away from your face. “Y’know, you’ve been acting strange lately too. What’s bugging you?”

“It’s nothing Freddie, I--”

“Uh uh.” He shook his head. “I poured my heart and soul out to you, the least you could do is do the same to me.”

Sighing, you checked around you to make sure no one would be able to overhear. “Promise you won’t tell Ron? I don’t want it to make anything weird in our relationship.”

Fred snapped his head between you and his younger brother, eyes growing wide as he jumped to the nearest possible answer. “You’re bloody in love with him, aren’t you?!”

“What?” you asked, laughing at the ridiculous accusation. “No! Oh, no no no, not at all! I’ve known him since we were 11, and trust me, watching young Ronnie throw up slugs will turn anyone off of him.”

Fred smiled down at you and breathed a sigh of relief, glad that you weren’t getting your heart broken by being at the wedding. “So what is it then? Promise I won’t tell, swear on George’s life.”

You rolled your eyes but snuggled up next to him, feeling much more comfortable with your best friend as close as possible. “Fine. You’re not the only one having to deal with parent problems. Like I said I’ve been friends with Ron since my family first found out I was a witch. My parents, being Muggles, immediately fell in love with your family, and Ron as well whenever he would come to visit over the summer. My mum has this whacked out idea that it should be me that’s marrying him tonight. She’s so disappointed, told me I’m passing up the best thing that’s ever happened to me. But he’s just Ron! I could never see him like that. He’s like a brother to me.”

Fred sat silently throughout your whole rant, rubbing small circles over your knuckles with his thumb. When it seemed you had finally finished, Fred had no idea what to say. He had never been the comforting sort and had always managed to make it worse. As he did this time as well. 

“Do you see me like that too?”

You looked at him with scrunched eyebrows, trying to understand how he decided on that as a response. 

“As a brother, I mean.” He stuttered through his words. “Am I just another brother to you?”

“‘Course you are, Freddie. I love you like family.” He gazed at you lovingly, wondering what he had done to have a friend like you in his life. 

“How about this then?” he asked. “How about, since your mom wants you to marry a Weasley, if by the time we’re both 40 and still single, why don’t we marry each other?”

He looked so sweet offering this to you, so kind and thoughtful. You knew that the deal would benefit him as well, but to you it felt like he was doing this only for you. And you knew he would do anything for you. 

“I appreciate the offer, but I actually only promised George the same thing,” you said, making Fred’s jaw drop and a scowl appear on his face. 

“George! My own bloody twin? How could you, Y/N? I revoke my proposal.”

“I’m practically in tears,” you said stoically. Deciding it was time to go out and mingle instead of throwing yourselves a pity party, you grabbed Fred’s hand and made your way over to find George, only to be stopped by a very obviously drunk man. 

He put a hand on your shoulder which made both you and Fred tense up. “I just want to say,” he said through slurred speech, “that Ron is a wonderful young man.”

Fred eased his grip on your hand a little bit, sensing that this man wasn’t going to do anything to you. You gave him a thankful look before turning your attention back to the hammered American. “Well thanks, we like him.”

The man stepped closer to examine your face, his booze breath going straight up your nose. It took all you had not to throw up because of it. 

“My God!” he exclaimed, “you two must’ve been teenagers when you had him!” 

You and Fred both stared straight ahead, insecurities and doubts increasing tenfold at the misunderstanding. You gritted your teeth and held back from slapping the man, who luckily made his way to another table to insult someone else. 

Fred turned you to face him and gripped your shoulders tight, leaning down so he was eye to eye with you. “The guy was hammered, okay? There’s no way that you look like Ron’s mum. Nor I his dad for that matter!”

“Then why would he say it?” you grumbled, pushing Fred away from you and going to get rid of your sadness by gorging on some food. 

“Because he’s crazy!”

“Oh, my mother’s right. I’m never going to get married.”

“Ahh, you know what?” Fred touched the small of your back softly, turning you around to face him, his breath growing heavy in exasperation. “This is...who wouldn’t want you?”

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

The next morning, the biggest day of Ron’s life, he was racing down the hallways practically bouncing off the walls. He was getting married. After a failed relationship with Padma years before, Ron had finally been able to heal and pour his love onto someone else. Lavender Brown. 

Sure, the relationship had moved fast. Really fast, actually. They had only been together for a few months before Ron popped the question, to which a very ecstatic Lavender happily agreed. He knew it was unorthodox. He knew it was impulsive. But he didn’t care. Because someone loved him. 

He shot through the door of Fred and George’s hotel room, making Fred jolt awake with a start. 

“I’m getting married today!” he screamed. “Whoo-hoo!” 

Fred scrambled around in the bed sheets for a few seconds before scowling at his brother. “Morning, Ron.”

“I’m getting married. To-day!” he said, ignoring the annoyed looks Fred was shooting him. 

Relaxing a little Fred smiled. “Yeah you are!”

Ron jumped around and sprinted out of the room, screaming as he ran down the hall to announce his feelings to all of the other hotel guests. 

The bed in which Fred was sleeping shifted once again, but it wasn’t Fred’s doing. You shot up from under his covers, holding the blankets to cover your naked chest and panting heavily in worry. “Do you think he knew I was here?”

Fred slowly shook his head, refusing to make eye contact with you. He shifted in the bed, his leg accidentally brushing yours. You yelped and he quickly moved away, apologizing profusely. 

After a long awkward silence, Fred finally spoke. “Well, I’ve--I’ve never done that with you before.”

“Nope,” you replied, popping the ‘p’ and sinking down further into the bed, trying to disappear. 

“So, ahh, how are you?” he said slowly. “You okay?”

You nodded, clutching the sheets so hard that your knuckles were turning white. “Yep, yep. You?”

“Yes, yes, uh huh. You?” The two of you finally made eye contact, faces equal shades of vermillion. “We did you. I did you. I--umm, sorry not the time.”

It got quiet once again. You let out a long breath, wondering how you were supposed to move on from sleeping with your best friend. You wanted to blame the alcohol from last night, but neither of you were drunk. You’d only had one glass of wine, just enough to make you a little more confident than normal. Apparently that was enough to do the trick. 

“Well… I’d better get going,” you told him, starting to sit up before remembering you and Fred were both naked under the sheets. 

“Oh, yea yea, absolutely,” he stammered, gesturing for you to leave. 

“Could you not look, please?”

“I don’t want to look.” Fred covered his eyes, not even pretending to peak through them. It was uncomfortable enough as it is, he really didn’t want to be joking around at the moment. 

You slowly slid off the bed, taking a moment to let what had happened last night fully sink in. Had you ruined your friendship with Fred? Was it going to be this weird from now on? You hustled to grab your clothes from yesterday, ready to complete the infamous walk of shame. Thankfully, your room was just down the hall so any chances of you being caught were slim. All you had to do was put on a happy face for the wedding, pretend to enjoy yourself, and forget any of this ever happened. Yeah, that would work. Right?

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

Lavender’s eyes went wide as she took in the scene around her. The wedding hall was absolutely gorgeous, decorated in elegant fairy lights and flowers hanging from baskets on the ceiling. It was like she was a princess in her own personal fairy tale. 

She spun around in her wedding dress, not even caring about the weird looks some of her parents’ friends were giving her. She never cared for them, or the family status, anyway. She just wanted to live her life as her own person, taking each step with someone she loved holding her hand. 

“Hey.” Lavender was interrupted by the voice of her lover, standing bashfully a few feet away with his hands in his pockets. 

“Ron!” she chastised playfully. “You’re not supposed to see me in my wedding dress, it’s bad luck!”

“I think we’ve had all the bad luck we’re going to have.” Lavender grinned and jumped into Ron’s arms, giggling as he swung her around. He finally put her down kissing the top of her head as he did so.  “I’ll see you in a few hours, when you’re finally mine forever.”

“It can’t come soon enough.” The brunette was then distracted by Parvati calling her name, so she bid Ron goodbye and skipped over to her maid of honor. 

She didn’t notice the unexpected guest standing at the end of the aisle, listening to their entire conversation. Or maybe if she did, she chose to ignore it. After all, her and Ron’s bad luck was over. She was finally getting the one thing she wanted most in life. To be loved. 

Ron stared longingly at the girl he loved so deeply talk to her best friend, before the same unexpected guest that Lavender hadn’t noticed caught his eye. “Oh Merlin, Hermione!”

He ran up to her and kissed her on the cheek, ecstatic that his friend had decided to come to New York for his wedding. “You’re here. I can’t believe it! What happened? Why are you here?”

Hermione took a quick glance over at where Lavender was standing. She had seen everything. Heard it all. She knew how much they both cared for each other, and who was she to stand in the way of their love? She had missed her chance with Ron, but Lavender hadn’t. 

“Well I just came…” She touched his chest right near his heart, tears threatening to spill. “I just needed to tell you…” 

She couldn’t do it. It wasn’t fair to either of them. Hermione took a deep breath and put on a fake smile. “Congratulations.”

Ron grabbed her tightly and hugged her with all of his strength, tears of joy pooling in his eyes. Tears continued to grow in Hermione's, but for completely different reasons. Today was the day everything changed. Today her chance was gone. Forever. 

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

If the chapel was beautiful before, it was even more extravagant with all of the lights lit up and the band playing soft, romantic music. Any normal day you would’ve enjoyed the site, wishing that someday you could have a wedding just like this. But unfortunately the only thing on your mind was the events of the previous night. 

“Ready?” George whispered to you, getting ready to walk one of the other bridesmaids down the aisle. He could tell something was wrong, but he didn’t want to push you. You nodded your head, sending your friend a thumbs up before it was his turn to make his walk. 

“Ready?” asked a nearly identical voice to the one before. Fred stood behind you, his hair styled for once and his clothes neatly pressed and cleaned. He did clean up well, you had to admit. But, not that you would ever say this to anyone, you quite liked it better when he wasn’t wearing anything at all. 

“I’m ready.” He linked his arm in yours, guiding you slowly down the dimly lit aisle. 

Fred couldn’t help but steal a few glances at you. Your eyes were focused straight ahead, refusing to look at anything except the alter at the end of the walk. If you just made it to the end of the walk, everything would be ok. Everything would be over. But maybe Fred didn’t want everything to be over, just not yet. He sucked in a breath and decided to take a chance. 

“What he did last night,” he whispered, slowing down as to elongate the conversation as much as possible. 

“Stupid,” you muttered. 

“Totally crazy stupid!” Fred got a few rude glances at his loud volume, so he checked himself before continuing. “I...I’m coming over tonight though, right?”

Your breath hitched in your chest. You were so close to the end of the aisle. You could ignore him and ignore whatever was going on between the two of you. It could all go back to normal, just a few more steps. 

But your heart took over, and you said something that you knew future you might regret, but you didn’t care. It was worth the risk. 

“Oh yeah, definitely.”

Fred squeezed your arm as you made your last steps to the front of the chapel, separating and taking your places in the rows of wedding participants. 

You scanned the crowd, seeing Hermione fidgeting nervously in her seat. You felt awful for what she must be going through, but proud that she decided to accept it. Hermione was tough, that was for sure. She could handle anything. 

“Friends. Family. We are gathered to celebrate here today the joyous union of Ron and Lavender. May the happiness we share with them today be with them always. Now Lavender, repeat after me. I, Lavender.”

“I, Lavender,” she said with a grin so big it looked like it would jump right off her face. 

“Take thee Ron,” the minister continued. 

“Take thee Ron.”

“As my lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, till death parts us.”

“As my lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, till death parts us.”

She giggled and squeezed Ron’s hands tighter, mere seconds away from being united with the one she loved oh so much. 

“Now Ron,” said the minister, turning to the groom. “Repeat after me. I Ron…”

George winked at him and Fred gestured for him to speak. No matter how much they teased their little brother, they were so proud of him for finding someone to spend the rest of his life with. “I Ron…”

“Take thee, Lavender…”

“Take thee, Hermione…”

Gasps filled the room. You covered your mouth and looked out to the crowd at Hermione, who looked as if she had seen a ghost. Fred and George started whispering frantically to each other and Molly seemed as if she was about to either faint or slap Ron into another country. 

But nothing compared to Lavender’s reaction. She stood there, frozen, hands going numb in the grip of the person she thought loved her. The one who only thought of her. The one who chose her. 

“Lavender!” Ron corrected, nervously chuckling in order to hide the growing humiliation. “Lavender.”

The minister looked between the bride and groom, having no idea where to go from there. “Uhh...shall I go on?”

Hermione couldn’t take her eyes off of Ron. He had just said her name. Her name. Not Lavender’s. Hers. 

What was supposed to happen next?

Tag List: @fandomhideout @amourtentiaa

#abby’s week of weasley #fredweasley #fred #friends #fred weasley x reader #george weasley #hermione granger #ron weasley #fredweasleyfluff #harrypotter #fred weasley x y/n #fred x y/n #weasleys wizard wheezes #fredweasleyseries #fredweasleyimagine

[fandomscombine]

The Boyfriend Introduction

George Weasley x Reader

This is an entry for @wonderful-writer​ ‘s Ficmas Writing Challenge 

Prompts: “Exactly how many people did you invite over for Christmas dinner?”

Tropes No.6. There’s only one bed

Trope No.8. Snowed in

BG: Will George make a good first impression on your strict parents over Christmas Dinner? What happens when prying muggle relatives are added to the mix? No magic is allowed, and a heavy snowstorm trapped everyone inside. What was supposed to last a couple of hours had stretched overnight. Will your family approve of George? Or will he be trapped with people who dislike him for the night?

A/N: This took almost a month to write. Started this with my writing motivation streak on high. Then the burnout came, I could write nor even read. Now I’m slowly trying to get back into the mood. Yea I realized that it’s not super Christmasy. But I hope that you enjoy it all the same.

WC:3352

>>>MASTERLIST<<<

‘Okay, you remember everything?’ You had just finish debriefing George on the what to expect when you arrive home later. What your parents likes and dislikes, what the home dynamic is, etcetera, brownie points to note to make sure he lands on your parent’s good side-you want your boyfriend’s first impression to be perfect!

‘Yes love, EVERYTHING. We’ve gone over this 3 times already, trust me it’s all up here’ George said, tapping a finger against his temple. ‘At this rate, I am more scared for them as it would be a total stranger knew everything about them!’ He pointed out.

‘Hey, you’re not a total stranger, they’ve met you before!’ You countered.

‘For only a couple of minutes, plus Fred was with us that time, I doubt they could have differentiated between us from that short time alone.’

Recalling back to the end of the summer holidays when your family had bumped into the Weasleys and Harry while school supplies shopping at Diagon Alley. You were just leaving of Flourish and Blotts while they were headed in. You had dropped your brand-new books and the twins had helped you pick them up. You had exchanged a quick thank you before hurried leaving to catch the bus back to muggle London.

Your parents had gratefully allowed you to spend the holidays at The Burrow, but only after they had met the boyfriend who you could never stop talking about. Majority of your letters back home consisted of gushing about how wonderful and sweet George is, so naturally your parents were curious and intrigued to finally meet this handsome fellow.

They had arranged for a Christmas Eve Dinner at home before you depart for The Burrow later in the evening.

‘You know, you still haven’t told me how you got your parents to let you spend the Christmas holiday with us.’ Quipped George. ‘I thought your dad was pretty strict.’ The Hogwarts Express had started slowing down, nearing its destination of Platform 9 ¾.

‘Yea but I guess it the real gamechanger was Mr.Weasley. The last I heard was that they started hanging out during breaks in the Ministry. It started out as a reconnaissance of some sort-the basic background check if the boy dating my daughter is good enough. Which then blossomed into friendship.’ You lean back against the train compartment window, giving him more space to reach up to the luggage rack overhead.

‘Really?’

‘Really.’

‘George! Y/n! Over here!’ Ginny yelled. She was standing near the trolleys, surrounded with a group of redheads.

Once you reached her, she wrapped you in a tight embrace. ‘I’m going to miss you.’

You chuckled, patting the girl’s shoulder. ‘Gin, I’m only be gone for a couple hours, we’ll be back by midnight.’

‘Yea, but til then I’ll be stuck with these dofusses.’ She winced, nodding towards the direction of her brothers.

‘Hey!’ exclaimed Ron.

Ignoring him, Ginny continued. ‘You know how time drags with these idiots. Why couldn’t I just come with?’

‘No you aren’t young lady.’ Stated Mrs.Weasley, making her way pass her children. ‘This is a very important occasion, meeting the parents. George has to make a good impression to y/n parents.’  She turned to the younger twin, hands on her waist. ‘So. NO funny business okay? I expect you to be on your best behaviour.’ She warned.

George raised 3 fingers up. ‘Yes ma’am. I promise.’

Mrs Weasley knew that despite George’s playful response, would keep this promise. Afterall she knew her children at heart. Recognises George’s coping tactics for nerves is through humour.

‘Alright then. I’ll see you later.’ Hugging you then her son. ‘Oh before I forget, we’ll take your luggage back with us so that it’ll be easier for you to get home. Fred! Percy! Come help me with these!’

‘Thank you Mrs.Weasley for-‘

‘Molly dear, call me Molly. I’ve known you for years now, you’re basically part of the family.’

You can feel your face warm up. ‘Thanks…Mrs…. I mean Molly for everything.’

‘No worries dear. Just be careful, I heard that it’ll snow more later.’

‘We will Mum.’ Replied George, placing a kiss on her check. ‘Don’t worry.’

You held your hand out to George. ‘Ready for your first ever ride on a muggle double decker bus?’

‘Oh yes.’ He nodded, interlocking his hands with yours.

~

‘Mum! I’m home!’ You shake off the snow that had stuck onto your boots before entering.

‘In here Dumpling!’ said a distant voice.

‘Dumpling huh?’ George teased; a smirk plastered on his face.

You were glad to see him calm down. ‘yea yea.’

‘Care to tell me why?’

‘Nope. Now get your butt in here.’

The house though small is full of life. Walls are lined with picture frames of the family together and along the hallway are frames of each member throughout the years.

You follow the fragrant smell of citrus in the air coming from the kitchen.

You head towards the opened refrigerator. ‘Merry Christmas Eve Mum!’ You greeted but were surprised to see someone else. ‘Dad! What are you doing here?’

‘What do you mean? It’s MY house!’ He resorted, taken aback.

‘You know what I mean.’

‘They let us off early in the Ministry.’

‘He means he left early’ Chimed your mother.

‘Perks of being the head of the department.’ He says nonchalantly, releasing you from a airtight embrace.

Your eyes light up. ‘You got the promotion?’ You asked, your father standing proud with a dazzling smile. ‘Congratulations Dad!’

‘Now now, this evening is not about me.’ His eyes dart to the tall boy behind you. The boy whose face showed apparent awkwardness during the mini intimate family catch up. ‘I don’t believe we’ve formally met. y/f/n yf/l/n.’ Extending his hand.

‘george..’ George cleared his throat. ‘George Weasley ,Sir. Pleasure to meet you Sir.’  George wondered if his hand had sweat more, feeling that your father was gripping his tight. Before his mind were to go down that rabbithole, he turned to your mother. ‘M’am..’

‘No please, call me y/m/n.’ Your mother insisted. ‘It’s nice to finally meet you George, we’ve heard so much about you.’ She leaned in close, whispering. ‘Between you and me, most of our dumpling’s letters here are about you!’ She looks over her shoulder to make sure, they aren’t overheard. Thankful you are preoccupied with dad. ‘It’s great to finally have a face to the name!’ Taking a more solemn tone she continued. ‘Listen you take good care of her okay, she doesn’t let anyone in her emotions easily, so you must be special.’

Just as fast as it came, she was back to normal. George would have thought that he imagined that whole exchange if it weren’t from the gleam in your mother’s eyes.

‘Right then.’ She clapped her hands together. ‘y/f/n, my love. Why don’t you give George here a tour of the house. Then help y/n and I when you’re done.’

‘On it my love.’ Your father replied, pecking your mother’s cheek. ‘George! I’m told you love inventing, so why don’t we start on with my study, I bet there’s a lot of things you’d find interesting.’ Said your father, leading George up the kitchen and up the stairs.

Once they rounded out the corner, your mother was instantly at your side, bumping your hips. ‘He seems like a nice boy. Quieter than I expected.’

‘Yea, He’ll get into the zone later.’ You noted. ‘Give him time and when he’s comfortable, he’ll be more like himself. He’ll really nervous, that’s all.’

‘I know.’

That made curious. ‘You know?’

‘Oh yess.’ Your mother sighed. ‘Your father had that exact same face when he first went to meet Grannie and Grandpops.’

‘Really?’ How had she never shared this story before?

‘umm hmm’ She reminisced. ‘It’s good that his reaction is like that. It shows that one’s scared and anxious, wanting to impress and give a good first impression.’

When she saw how lost you look, she held your chin up, elaborating. ‘It means that he cares. That it’s a big important deal, meeting the parents.’

~

It’s been a hour already since your father had dragged George off, to what you believe as a house tour disguised as a boyfriend interrogation. Truth be told you were scared out of your mind, you never had brought home a boy before so you didn’t know what to expect, this is unknown territory.

The growing sounds of footsteps and…laughter? Surely that was a good sign.

‘Woah that is a lot of food. Exactly how many people did you invite over for Christmas dinner?’ George had come up behind you, with a hand on your lower back- touchy as if warming up and testing the waters on how much physical touch he could get away with, with your parents in the room.

‘A lot.’ You replied, angling up to poke his cheek. ‘You’re not the only one with a big family, Weasley’

‘I thought you were only 4 of you?’

‘well, my mom’s side of the family is coming.’ You explained, counting them on your fingers. ‘So that’s includes my grandparents, aunts and uncles and their family-my cousins.’

‘why only your mom’s side?’ George was genuinely confused, isn’t Christmas all about getting together with family?

You chuckled. ‘oh it’s a funny story actually…’

‘More like an almost disastrous story.’ Cut in your father. ‘See my brother is a lightweight but every Christmas he tries to outdrink himself. And one Christmas, things…..got out of hand.’

When your father didn’t explain more, your mother further clarified, taking pity on George’s ever more puzzled look. ‘Long story short, he end up doing magic infront of my family specifically changed into his Animagus form it would be easy to say he just disappeared behind the couch if his animal form was small but his was a tiger- so harder to cover up.’

‘Dad ultimately had to obliviate 7 people’s memories of the past hour. From then on, for long holidays we separate the family into magic vs muggles.’

‘SO remember NO magic!’ Announced your dad. ‘Tonight, we act as Muggles, no magic at all cost. We won’t wanna risk Ministry intervention.’

~

The early Christmas dinner had gone in a blur, the food was quickly devoured by the table of 15. Yes that’s right, 15. Normally the dinner table could expand to accommodate 6 people, but thanks to transfiguration, your father had lengthen it to fit the then arriving guest.

In addition to enjoying the food, your relatives had seized the time to pry into your love life in between bites. The previous years’ answer of “I don’t have a boyfriend” followed by their unwanted input about what you’re doing wrong, was obviously not applicable.

So you ended up being interrogated by your aunt on your right, while George, who was sitting on your left was being questioned by your grandfather.

‘Gee is that the time! We better get going, maw come on dear we don’t want to be caught out of the road by the snowstorm.’ Your grandfather said, helping your grandmother up from her seat. ‘Get the car ready, Finn.’

At that, everyone began to get pack up. Usually you would all stay up for more talks, but under the threat of a looming snowstorm, it was better to be safe than sorry.

~

‘Alright dumpling, got everything?’ Your mother wondered, straightening up your coat.

‘Yup’ You replied, all snuggled up. You didn’t bother telling her that the coat wasn’t necessary as you would be apparating back to the Burrow- you knew how much she hated the tension apparition causes to one’s temples.

‘George..’ She said, now moving towards the quiet young man who had once again caught himself a bit out of place in such an intimate family moment. ‘It was really nice to meet you; I do hope that we would get to see you most often now that y/n has formally introduce us.’ She pulled him into a motherly hug. ‘You take care of my dumpling, or else… you’d find out what muggle parents do to those who hurt their children, and I warn you, you magic folks don’t know what’s coming.’

The final warning came and went, and George managed to utter. ‘I promise.’ Before your father came into view, looking more unreadable and stricter than their introductions earlier in the day.

George was terrified, he had thought that things had gone well, surely they had bonded over the guide house tour. Might had he said something wrong during dinner, Grandpa y/l/n sure did ask a lot of questions. George mentally recalled the past couple of hours, where could this all gone sideways.

To his surprise he was greeted with an outstretched hand. ‘You’re a good lad, George.’ Remarked your father, ‘Oh and you can call me y/f/n.’

Both your and George’s eyes go wide.

‘Thank you, sir! I mean…’ George was still nervous, a part of him thinking that this was a secret test. ‘y/f/n, sir. Thank you’ Tried George, the tips of his ears red.

Your father chuckled at the hesitant boy, ‘In time you will get the hang of that’ He turned to you. ‘That is.. if y/n is willing to for us to join you two in the future. The dinner might have frightened you off, sorry for that.’ Your father wrapped an arm around your mother, ‘Perhaps the next time could be with MY side of the family…’

At that moment the doorbell rang.

‘Now who could that be?’ Voiced your mother. ‘Mum, Dad!’

‘Bad News dearie, Roads and Highways are closed for the night-Too much snow.’ Explained your grandfather, barging into the warm house. ‘We’ll have to stay the night.’

‘Uh! George my boy, you are still here! Great! Pa look who it is!’ Cheered your grandfather, pinching his arm (His cheeks were too high up to reach).  Leaving George’s right sleeve with specks of melting snow. ‘Though I am afraid we would get to chatting in the morning, sleep is calling me.’

But before George would reply that he wouldn’t be here in the morning, your father interjected. ‘Yes yes of course, the guestroom is ready as always. Have a good night’s rest nannie.’ Looking past her to the doorway he shouted. ‘Finn you can take the couch, we’ll give you some blankets in a sec.’

He gestured for you both to follow him into the dinning room. You quickly followed suit, panicking as to how in the world could you apparate to the burrow while presenting a valid reason to your grandparents in 2 young person’s disappearance overnight when the is a heavy snowstorm raging on.

‘I wouldn’t suggest apparating tonight’ He huffed. ‘Unless of course if you don’t mind popping back in again tomorrow morning.’

You shook your head. You were not an earlier riser, besides spending the night in the burrow when had to be back home first thing would be wise, you would be just exhausting yourself.

‘Good. I’ll notify Arthur of our situation. Now unto the other thing….’ He raised a brow at George. ‘Since that the spare room and the couch are taken, it would be rude to ask a guest to rest in a more comfortable place..’

You internally groaned, you kinda had an idea where this conversation was headed to but gosh was it in the parents handbook to deliver to so awkwardly?

‘…you are bot old enough and trust both of you. So, George if you don’t mind, you would be spending the night in y/n’s room.’

You dared risked a quick glance at your boyfriend and you could tell that he was trying not to smirk.

George in fact was trying his best not to smile, biting the insides of his cheek to stop himself.

‘So no funny business.’

‘Yes Sir.’ George didn’t dare call him, y/f/n. Not at this moment, even if he was granted the permission.

~

‘So….This is me.’ Presenting your room. ‘It’s not much, but-‘

‘It’s beautiful.’ George cut you off. There wasn’t much going on, seeing that you spend majority of the year in Hogwarts and only a month or two at home. A single bed next to the window overlooking the road, a small desk, a wardrobe with a mirrored door and 2 bookshelves. Plain white walls decorated with a small makeshift photo wall of your most cherished memories.

Spotting the photos next to your bookshelf, he chortled.  ‘It’s really sweet of you, I feel honoured.’ He turned to you. ‘But this one? Seriously??!!?’ Pointing at the photograph.

It was of the yule ball. The relationship wasn’t official yet, it was still teetering on the side of best friends but with something more or so Fred calls ‘Y/n and George’s Era of Mutual Pining’.

The shot was of you in your gown, not so elegantly piggybacking on George, who was mid fall. Despite it all, you were both laughing your heads off. Ginny had taken that picture with your muggle camera. Something about it being developed as a standstill compared to the moving wizard photos adds charm to it, further highlighting such a moment.

‘I for one love it.’ You declared, leaning your head on his shoulder.

‘We do look nice together.’ He teased. ‘But gosh that is a bit unflattering, don’t you think? It looks like we’re drunk!’

‘Drunk on love you mean.’ Nudging his side. ‘Though we haven’t admitted it then.’

George squinted closer, ‘Wait a minute! It’s not moving!’

‘Yup, don’t want any muggle walking in a moving photo. But more importantly, it’s forever captures the moment of ‘I am in love with my best friend, a person who would never let me fall.’

‘Expect to fall in love, with your truly.’

‘Exactly.’ In moments like these, where no one else in the room, does George lets his sappy cheesy side on full blast and you love it. It’s as if a top-secret surprise that is for your eyes only.

‘Now come to bed with me.’ You reach for his hand, dragging him to your tiny bed. ‘I’m tired’

‘Love as much as I want to, I don’t think we’d fit.’ Eyeing the bed. ‘One of us will fall off- most probably me.’

Taking one of you pillows he said ‘ I’ll just lay down here.’

‘Nuh uh, not in my house. You are my boyfriend and my guest! No way am I letting you sleep on the floor!’ You argued. ‘Come cuddle with me, pleaseeeeeeee’ Giving him your best pout. ‘We have had any alone time, the whole day! Pleaseeeee babe! ’

George shook his head, knowing that the was no way that he could ever say ‘NO’ to you. He did miss his girl and after an exhaustive day practically being interrogated by multiple family member, he was grateful to finally spend time with you. ‘Alright.’ Giving into your request. ‘Scoot over and let me engulf you into a world of softness.’

Your head was resting on George’s chest, bopping along with his each intake of breath. The snow outside is still pouring but the all the noise is silenced as you focus in his heartbeat.  Tilting up slightly you pipped. ‘You comfortable Georgie?’

George wrapped his arms around you tighter. ‘I’m good anywhere with you.’ He placed a final kiss on your forehead before exhaustion take you both away to dreamland.

~

Bonus:

The sun had come up, casting a warm glow onto the white blanked pavement.  

Still drained from the day before, neither of you had woken up to your bedroom door opening.

‘Merry Christmas Y/n dearie! Nannie has bought you your favourite hot choco—’  Your grandmother stopped in her tracks upon seeing 2 angels tangled together with smiles etched on their sleeping faces. Reminding her of own younger days.

She leaves the mug on your desk, quietly shut the door. Once out on the hallway, she quickly makes her way to her husband, eager to tell him what he just saw and excited to come up with more questions they could interrogate George with-only the best for their granddaughter!

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 Taglist [All/General]: @gruffle1

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