#The professor burst out LAUGHING when my partner said ''it looks like the woman was a cannibal'' as the final line

[ophthalmotropy]

Yesterday we had an improv exercise where my group partner kept consistently misgendering my character so I was just evilly manspreading for all I was worth talking about how we didn’t get women around here ever since “the wife left” and “are you married, officer?” and he still looked me in the eye and said “no, miss”. Previous to getting on the stage I had said aloud that I was wearing a shitty fishing cap so you could tell I was a guy.

[bisexualbumblebee-writes]

Dance Lessons- Fred Weasley x OC

Fred Weasley x Mallorie Bishopp

Description:  Hufflepuff and Gryffindor practice the Yule Ball waltz together. Fred of course asks Mallorie to be his partner and it ends with them being chosen as an example by Professor McGonagall. 

Word Count: 1.4k

“Ah, Professor Sprout. There you are,” Professor McGonagall spoke as the head of Hufflepuff walked in. The students of said house followed her in, confusing the Gryffindor students. Fred shared a confused look with his brother before his eyes caught Mallorie, who stood not too far away from him. He didn’t have time to catch her attention before Professor McGonagall spoke yet again. 

“Students, today you will practice your waltz with the Hufflepuff students as Professor Sprout has some business to attend to. I expect you to treat this experience with civility and respect,” she paused when Professor Sprout thanked her once more before walking out. “Everyone find a partner and find an empty space,” she instructed, looking around. Fred wasted no time in getting to Mallorie before someone else could. 

“Hello love,” he greeted from behind her. She squeaked in surprise and whirled around to look at him. After realizing who it was, she sighed in relief.

“Merlin Fred, what have I told you about sneaking up on me?” She questioned, crossing her arms with a pointed look. 

“Hey, it’s not my fault you’re easily startled,” he chuckled. “Want to be my partner?” He asked, though he already knew the answer. 

“I don’t know, maybe I should find someone else,” she teased, turning away. 

“Yeah right,” Fred laughed, wrapping an arm around her middle and pulling her back to him. Mallorie couldn’t help but laugh at him and she looked back at him. 

“Alright alright,” she caved, turning around. Fred smiled triumphantly, making the girl roll her eyes. Once everyone had found a partner, they began talking and messing around with each other. It took her a few minutes, but Professor McGonagall managed to quiet everyone down before speaking. 

"Listen up, my Gryffindor students. Godric Gryffindor has commanded the respect of the wizarding world for nearly ten centuries. I will not have you, in the course of a single evening, besmirching that name by behaving like a babbling, bumbling band of baboons." George, who stood beside Fred and Mallorie, nudged his brother, making the two of them look at him. 

“Try saying that times fast,” he whispered. Fred paused for a second then began saying it, George repeating him until Mallorie nudged him, mouthing at him to stop. She shared a look with Corinne, who was partnered with George as McGonagall began talking. 

“Now, to dance is to let the body breathe. It is to move in rhythm with your partner. Inside every girl is a swan, waiting to burst out in flight.” Mallorie smacked Fred’s arm when he snorted. 

“Fred Weasley so help me God I will hex you out of that window,” she muttered firmly. Fred gave her a cheeky smile before facing the head of Gryffindor. 

“And inside every boy is a lion ready to pounce,” the professor continued, ignoring the snickers of the boys. “Now, boys place your left hand on your partner’s waist. And only their waist,” she gave them a pointed look at the end of her statement, making a few people laugh. Mallorie and Fred faced each other, and the latter did as McGonagall said. Fred continued to laugh and joke, which obviously caught the professor’s attention. 

“Mr. Weasley and Miss Bishopp, you two are perfect for our example. Come to the front, if you please.” Mallorie’s eyes widened at her instructions and she shook her head quickly. Fred could feel the fear radiating off of her. 

“Professor I-” Fred began, but he was cut off by the woman herself. 

“No no, if you insist on interrupting the lesson, you might as well be here to help the others as well.” McGonagall gestured them forward, and Mallorie was ready to drop off the face of the earth. 

“I hate you so much,” she whispered as she began walking to the front. Fred frowned at her red face and followed after her, whispering an apology. Once they were at the front, all eyes were on them. Mallorie refused to make eye contact with anyone, instead just keeping her head down as McGonagall continued. 

“Now, Mr. Weasley, place your left hand on her waist. Miss Bishopp, yours will go on his left shoulder. Your right hands will clasp together,” she waited for them to do so before continuing, teaching them where to step and when. 

“Well done, now put it all together. One, two three, one two three,” she counted as they stepped. Mallorie had still yet to look at Fred or anyone but Professor McGonagall. When she misstepped, the professor sighed. 

“Miss Bishopp, for this to work, you need to be looking at your partner. Come on,” she instructed, turning Mallorie’s head to look at Fred. Their eyes connected for just a second before McGonagall continued to count. They got into a rhythm quickly as music began playing. Everyone watched as they moved in sync, almost as if they were meant to dance together. It was beautiful to anyone who watched it, but of course it came to an end quickly. 

“Very well done, you two!” McGonagall exclaimed, almost sounding breathless as the music came to an end. “Absolutely beautiful. You two may take a break while the others dance, go on,” she instructed. Mallorie thanked the woman then walked off to sit down, her feet much more tired now. Fred was not long after her and he sat down as the music began once again. 

“You hear Minne over there? We were beautiful,” he teased as everyone started dancing, attempting to mimic the grace that he and Mallorie had. The girl couldn’t help but roll her eyes playfully and shake her head. 

“You’re crazy, Fred Weasley. Don’t forget that I’m still mad at you for causing us to be picked,” she pointed out. For a second, Fred couldn’t figure out if she was serious. After a minute of deliberation, he decided that she wasn’t for the most part, but she was still a bit upset. 

“Then I don’t mind spending every day making up to you. How about this weekend at The Three Broomsticks?” Mallorie had to admit that she was surprised by his sudden question. She definitely hadn’t expected him to say that. 

“Sure. You’re buying though,” she finally responded simply. 

“Well duh, that’s how a date works, doesn’t it?” Mallorie blushed at his response, but nodded anyways. After sitting in silence for a few minutes, Professor McGonagall stopped the other student’s dancing while the music halted. 

“Very good everyone, you are excused for the rest of the day. But we will still be practicing a bit more to make sure you all know how to dance the waltz. I would like to thank the Hufflepuff students for helping us today, and wish them the best as they are taught by Professor Sprout after today. Now, be gone all of you.” Everyone walked in different directions to grab their things, but Mallorie just had to stand since she hadn’t actually brought anything with her. She walked out after saying bye to a few of her friends, but after she got out the door, someone grabbed her hand. 

“See you next dance lesson?” He asked. If Mallorie didn’t know better, she would have thought he sounded hopeful. 

“Didn’t you hear Professor McGonagall? Hufflepuffs won’t be practicing after today. Sprout just had something to do today, she’ll be teaching us in the next few days,” she reminded him. She saw his shoulders slump sadly, almost as if he had hoped she hadn’t heard that. That didn’t last long as he suddenly perked up and smiled cheesily. 

“Guess we’ll just have to meet up to practice then, huh?” He spoke. “You’re probably the best dance partner I’ve ever had, can’t waste that now, can we?” Mallorie wanted to laugh.��

“I’m the only dance partner you’ve ever had, Fred.” The boy didn’t seem to care about her response because he squeezed her hand. 

“Then I’ll need all the practice I can get,” he brushed it off. “So, tomorrow after dinner? By the lake perhaps?” The girl couldn’t help but smile. 

“Fine. Meet me at the Hufflepuff table after you finish eating, we’ll start tonight. Don’t take too long.”

“How about I just eat dinner with you?” He inquired, trying not to show his excitement. Mallorie hummed in thought then shrugged. 

“Okay, sure.” With that, she kissed his cheek and continued walking off with Corinne as she reached them. Fred watched them begin talking animatedly, no doubt about what the latter had just witnessed, with a smile. Oh yeah, he couldn’t wait for dinner to come.

[shelby-love]

FRED WEASLEY

Yule Ball Problems

Requested: yes (by anonymous)

Prompts: none

Warnings: none

Word count: 2.2K

Author’s note: I really like this request especially since the fourth movie is one of my favs, so thank you for requesting it! Just like George's one shot, this will be heavily inspired by the movie (I'm essentially putting the reader into the movie). Before proceeding, I highly recommend rewatching these scenes lol!

Gryffindor practice for the Yule Ball

Fred asks Angelina to the ball (obviously we're pretending it's George who asks her <3)

It was fairly rare to have the Gryffindors sit together in a room mastered by the head teacher. Nevertheless, the entirety of Gordic Gryffindor's current house members has gathered in the spacious room, a million things running through their minds.

McGonagall looked fierce as she appropriated the room like something very serious was going to happen.

Your thoughts seemed to be correct as she whisked her wand in the air, pulling you away from your boyfriend to stand on a completely different side of the room.

You frowned, Fred did too. He was just about to swoop in and kiss you.

"D-did she just?" You asked puzzledly, not quite believing your luck. A couple from seventh year were eating each other's faces in the corner, but she picked you and Fred instead?!

"Yeah," Hermione mused, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "I think she did."

Fiercely blushing, you sat back down. "I cannot believe my luck."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked. She herself has been appointed to stand with the girls on the other side, leaving her two best friends to themselves and the boys.

"This is the sixth time she has caught us," you told her, catching Minerva's eyes in that exact moment. You wouldn't be surprised if the woman heard you; she is a cat most of the time, and cats have significantly better hearing than humans do.

"The Yule ball has been a tradition of the-" Professor McGonagall attempted although her words were cut by Flinch as he plotted around the huge record player. "-Triwizard Tournament since its inception."

She shared nothing new.

So, what is she on about?

You glanced at your boyfriend, knowing which one out of the two he is immediately. Fred laughed with his twin about Merlin knows what, picking at Ron in the process. You shook your head, focusing your attention back to your head teacher.

"On Christmas Eve night," she continued, slowly walking in a straight line across the floor. "we and our guests gather in the Great Hall for a night of well-mannered frivolity."

Ginny leaned her head against her shoulder, getting bored. You smiled at the act, deciding to share her enthusiasm by mimicking it.

After a while of being stuck in a singular position you had decided to place your chin on the top of her head instead.

"As representatives of the host school I expect each and every one of you to put your best foot forward, and I mean this literally because the Yule ball is first and foremost..." The dreaded sentence was coming. You could see it in her facial expression. "A dance."

Ginny's head flew up suddenly, banging against yours so hard you had to hold your jaw in pain. "Oh Y/N, I'm so sorry!" she squeaked, palpably petrified with what she has done to her older brother's girlfriend.

"No, no," you waved your hand, testing your jaw by moving it in circular motions. "It's alright Ginny."

"But what if it gives you a bruise?" She asked frightened. "The ball is just around the corner!"

Your eyes widened at that and before you could soothe the girl, Hermione had butted in. "She'll be fine Ginny. Besides, Fred is so smitten by her he genuinely won't care."

"True," you added in agreement, holding your chin after wrapping your free hand around the smaller girl to cheer her up. Ginny calmed down and returned to her bright, usual self soon after.

The quick accident helped you better ignore the agonizing groans of the boys that generously outmatched the giggling. While most of the girls, including yourself, enjoyed the aspect of dancing with a gentleman, the boys didn't like the thought of becoming one so much.

You searched for Fred's eyes the second you could, finding him already looking at you from afar. He was quick in mouthing an 'Are you okay?' and pointing to his own jaw for better explanation.

You nodded but still mouthed an 'ow' for dramatics sake.

Fred knew his little sister's strength, but he also knew your pain tolerance and that made him less concerned. Fred then sent you a wink accompanied by a wicked grin of excitement. Being a couple played in your favor excellently.

Most of the girls feared being partnerless at the ball, so you felt very content with yourself. You secured yourself both an escort and a dance partner by just loving a boy that was able to be serious if you ever asked him to be.

"Silence!" McGonagall raised both her hands in the air, "The house of Godric Gryffindor has commanded the respect of the wizard word for nearly 10 centuries."

She then continued, "I will not have you in the course of a single evening besmirching that name by behaving like a babbling bumbling band of baboons."

"Babbling what now?" You asked in amazement. She was very creative with her words; you give her that.

From the corner of your eye you saw your boyfriend monkeying around with his brother, staying true to his teasing nature by making fun of McGonagall's words.

"Now. To dance is to let the body..." She took a deep breath as she said that, "...breathe. Inside every girl a secret swan slumbers, longing to burst free and take flight."

Fred's younger brother, Ron, decided to take that inspirational moment to comment about Eloise Midgen, a girl that was sitting very close to you, Hermione and Ginny. You shook your head, not liking his comment at all.

McGonagall heard it but finished her sentence nevertheless, saying something about boys having a lion inside of them. "Mr. Weasley."

Ron looked at her through a fringe of red hair, "Yes..."

"Would you join me, please." She was already by his side as she said that.

"I'd dance with that woman anytime." A girl from your year mumbled, creating quite big hysterics of agreement among the girls. You started to laugh, Ron's face and the girls' comments becoming too much for you to handle.

Ron on the other hand sat awkwardly and glanced around the room in which his housemates were all eagerly waiting for his slip, panicked beyond comprehension. Even Harry who had his arm bandaged due to being an actual contestant in the Tournament, eagerly pushed him up with his healthy one.

McGonagall had Ron in her vise hold. The poor boy couldn't go anywhere without making a complete fool of himself. The music started to play, and Fred and George were loving the sight in front of them as they kept throwing in whistles and remarks that made everyone smile. A years' worth of teasing material had just appeared without them doing so much as moving a finger to make it happen.

On the other side of the room, you weren't breathing. Literal tears formed in your eyes when Ginny made a joke on Ron's account.

"Everybody come together! Boys on your feet!"

You had coughed up your laughter immediately, although the giggles seemed to be a permanent thing. You stood to your feet and dashed across the room for Fred after hearing a fifth year tell her friend how she was going to ask him to partner up.

You leaped into his arms, relieved to have snatched him before anyone else could.

"Woah there, love," Fred mused, placing his hand on your waist like Professor McGonagall had instructed. While teasing his younger brother, Fred managed to pick up the essential parts of the dance because he didn't want to tramp all over your feet and have to carry you to Madam Pomfrey. "Thought I'd leave you hanging?"

Although Fred didn't mind hoisting you up into a princess-carry and acting out a heroic save, he was, quite frankly terrified of the wrath you would unleash on him if he was the reason you wouldn't be able to wear your heels to the ball.

"Actually," your laughter broke down as you two started to dance in steady pace around the room. "I didn't want you to partner up with someone else."

Genuine confusion crossed his features after that, "Come again?"

"I heard several girls talk about how they're going to ask you partner up with them," you mumbled just as the tune changed and he swiftly helped you twirl before pulling you back so you were flush against his chest. "Are you sure they weren't talking about George? He actually-"

"Is your name Fred?" You cut him off.

"Yeah..."

You gave him a look that said well-there-you-go.

"If it makes you feel any better," Fred whispered, voice raspy as he gripped your waist and pulled you against him as if you weren't already glued together before. His mouth slowly found its way to your neck and you shivered under the proximity. "I only have eyes for you."

You didn't get to enjoy the moment as you heard Ron scream, his lust for sibling revenge overtaking. "Professor, Fred and Y/N are snogging! It's kind of disgusting, actually!"

"Mr. Weasley! Miss Y/LN!"

"Not again!" Fred and you said simultaneously.

***

You sat in between Fred and Neville in the great hall, working mostly with Fred on an essay Snape had assigned for you during this study session. You talked quietly with Neville while at it too, sharing deep compassion as you helped answer some questions he had for you about Herbology, keeping professor Sprout out of your mouth as much as possible. You didn't want Snape to find out you were talking about a subject that wasn't his.

Ron's muttering was very much loud as he kept going on about how depressed he was. "Well maybe you should just get yourself a girlfriend then. Like me." Fred whispered proudly, eyeing Snape who was walking around the hall like a soldier.

You mimicked Fred's smirk and turned to Ron, "It's not as easy as it looks."

"Getting a girlfriend, you mean?" Ron said, his face falling into an ever deeper frown when you nodded. "Bloody hell... How is that supposed to help?"

"It isn't," you told him. "Fred's just speaking nonsense. Don't listen to him."

Your boyfriend just grinned, slinging his arm over your shoulder but taking it off as soon as Snape glared at it. You swallowed a bubble of laughter that threatened to slip past your lips.

Out of the blue, George scribbled something on a piece of paper, folding it and throwing it at Ron, apparently not trusting his voice to say whatever he wanted to out loud.

You watched as Ron read it through, turning to your boyfriend, the quill in your hand now long forgotten. "What did George write?"

"Get a move on or all the good ones will have gone." Fred whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple as proof to you that he took no part in that message.

"Good ones..." you muttered mockingly. "Pig."

Fred laughed, stuffing his mouth into the sleeve of his shirt to muffle it. He then turned to his brother and told him what you thought of his message. George leaned behind Fred to scowl at you carefully, so Snape doesn't see.

You both stuck out your tongues to each other like kids at the same time and while you returned straight to work, the younger twin continued to converse with Ron. Eventually George threw a paper ball at Angelina and you watched as the paper ball flew past your eyes, missing you by a millimeter. George had made a good shot as the paper ball bounced off Angelina's body. It urged her to look at George as he acted out the question, "You want to go to the ball with me?"

Angelina nodded, surprising you.

"Seriously?" You asked your close friend.

"What?" She shrugged, "He's cute."

Your raised brow catched Angelina off guard. "And funny..."

"As long as you don't mistake him for Fred," You whispered, "I support it."

Fred chuckled next to you.

"I won't be going alone because believe it or not someone asked me!" Hermione exclaimed, most likely because of Ron. You weren't paying attention to either of them, only starting to do so when Hermione stormed across the hall to Snape and handed him her finished assignment. She turned to grab her things whilst putting Ron in his place. "And I said yes!"

"Please don't tell me Ron asked her to the ball as a last resort," You sighed once Hermione disappeared behind the doors.

"I'm afraid he did, love," Fred answered.

You shook your head at Ron in disappointment, "Fred, did I ever tell you how much I'm grateful for you?"

Fred's smile intensified as he shook his head. "No, I don't think you did."

For that, you listened to your gut and grabbed him by his red Gryffindor tie, pulling him to you until your lips connected. Unfortunately, the kiss lasted for only a second due to Snape crawling around the place like the snake he is, but the brief kiss still left you breathless. Left you wanting more. "Want to get out of here?"

"Mhmm," you said with an eager nod of your head. Your brain was mushed and you only had time to whisper to Neville where he could find the answers about the Bouncing Bulb he's been desperate to find more about before Fred pulled you to your feet and grabbed both your stuff. In return, you collected both Fred and yours assignment and stuffed them into Snape's arms. "Have a lovely day, Professor."

"As I said Ron," Fred said smiling, glancing at you and Snape. "Better go get yourself a girlfriend…before the good ones are taken."

"I think the bloody best one is taken already," Ron mumbled with a pout, every male close to him responding in agreement.

Fred winked at them all, a winning smirk plastered on his face as he grabbed your hand and eagerly pulled you outside to do whatever your hearts desired in that moment.

MASTERLIST

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[iatethepomegranate]

Just a fic about Caleb buying a house in Rexxentrum with Beau and Yasha, and coping with that kind of change and newfound stability (and becoming Professor Widogast). Angst and fluff are at war in this fic.

Chapter Summary: Caleb was loved, in so many different ways, by so many people. The Nein were a whirlwind of chaos and dick jokes, but they were his. And Essek... even when Essek did not use the words "I love you", every word he said and every touch he offered was proof enough. In other words, the Mighty Nein crash at Caleb and Beauyasha's place and shower them with affection.

Notes: Chapter title is from Five by Sleeping at Last. Here's some fluff. Caleb is still Caleb, but everyone loves him and wants him to be happy. Hug your sad wizard friend/research partner/it's complicated.

****

Chapter 2: But something gets lost from a safe distance and now I can't put my mind to rest

There was enough furniture in the house to sleep for the night. After an enormous grocery shop that made gratuitous use of Yasha’s muscles, Beau’s superhuman balance, and Caleb’s telekinesis, the three of them collapsed on the couch.

Beau piled her feet onto Caleb’s lap, resting her head on Yasha’s. “Hey, Caleb?”

“Ja?”

“You good now?”

“I think so.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Nein.” Caleb had zero interest in talking about how much he had cried on their kitchen table earlier. He wasn’t ready to process it.

“Cool. Good talk.”

Yasha smiled down at Beauregard, fondly but with an edge to it. “Shh.” She put her finger on Beau’s lips. “Let us just… be quiet for a while.”

Caleb tipped his head back against the couch and closed his eyes. He drifted close to sleep, but Essek’s voice filled his mind.

“Caleb. How was the house? I am in a safe place. I will visit when you have a safe landing spot. Talk soon, love.”

Caleb couldn’t help burst into a grin. “Hallo, Essek. We bought it. Veth gave me the money. Go to the Grove when ready. I will come get you. Ich liebe dich.”

“Gross,” said Beauregard. “You know I can understand you now, right?”

Caleb pinched her ankle. “I remember.”

“Beau,” sighed Yasha.

“I’m kidding. I’m happy you’ve worked things out with him.” She shifted, digging her heel into his thigh. “Look, I don’t give a fuck about your sex life--”

“Good.”

“--but you know you can tell me shit, right? It was just the two of you for weeks, and now it’s… not. Are you okay with that?”

Caleb sighed; he already missed Essek dearly, but he always knew it would be like this. “Ja. We talked about it a lot. We want to be together as much as we can, but we are practical people, ja? I will bring him around soon, for a few days at least. Rexxentrum is not safe for him.”

“Well, good thing you have your own space. I don’t wanna hear that shit.”

Caleb rolled his eyes at her. “We are more likely to stay up late talking.” Sex with Essek was more of a (great) side benefit than a core element of their relationship A relationship they had never bothered to define. It was what it needed to be in the moment.

“That’s even worse, Caleb.”

“How the fuck is that worse?”

Beauregard shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s fuckin’ romantic as shit.”

“Ja, I am sure that you, the woman who makes out with her girlfriend in front of all our friends, is disgusted by romance.”

Beauregard grumbled incoherently at him.

****

Caleb was soon preoccupied with ferrying the Mighty Nein to the new house. He first collected Veth, Fjord and Jester from Yussa’s tower. Kingsley had wanted to explore Nicodranas for a while, without Fjord and Jester’s supervision. They had tentatively allowed it, not that they could’ve stopped Kingsley even if they had wanted to.

“Omigosh it’s so pretty !” Jester screeched upon seeing the house. “The windows are kinda boring, though. Can I paint them?”

Caleb was not in the habit of refusing Jester anything. “I suppose. Ask Beau and Yasha.”

“Which door is theirs?”

“The right. It should be unlocked.”

Jester tore ahead and disappeared inside. Fjord hooked his thumbs into his belt loops, gazing up at the exterior.

“It’s bigger than I expected,” he said.

“Ja, the previous occupant is a professor at Soltryce Academy. She lives alone, and it was too much space for her.”

“You’re okay with that?” asked Veth.

“Ja, she was very nice. She lives on Astrid’s estate now.”

“Trent’s old place?” asked Fjord.

“Ja.”

He whistled softly. “That must be weird.”

Caleb didn’t want to talk about it. “The professor gave us a good deal. I am meeting her for coffee tomorrow to talk about Evocation.” He looked down at Veth. “Thank you for the money.”

“I just wish I could’ve given you more, Cay.”

“It was plenty, Veth.” Caleb led them inside and picked Veth up so he could give her the hug he had wanted for days.

******

Next, Caleb teleported to the Blooming Grove. The grass had grown back where it had once been burned, and the house had been repaired. The tangled residuum trees had held strong, keeping the corruption of the Savalirwood at bay. It was quiet, save for the distant clattering of dishes coming from the house.

Caduceus appeared in the doorway before Caleb had taken more than a few steps. “Oh, excellent. Essek’s in the garden. Go get him. I’ll be out in a moment.”

Caduceus didn’t specify where in the garden, but Caleb assumed he was giving him the satisfaction of figuring it out for himself. Caleb walked further into the grove, occasionally stopping to cradle a blossom or sniff a particularly sweet scent.

He spotted Essek’s broad-brimmed hat first. On loan from the Clays. Caleb approached quietly, watching Essek hover over the bed of a herb garden, wearing the rose gloves Jester had made him while he carefully pulled weeds with a look of utmost concentration. The kind of look that made Caleb remember how attractive it was to watch him work.

As Caleb drew closer, Essek froze. Looked up. Relaxed as his face broke into a smile.

“I am sorry I startled you,” Caleb said, closing the distance.

Essek floated away from the herbs and opened his arms, accepting Caleb into them. “It’s all right. You know I’m a little… jumpy these days.”

Caleb kissed his neck; Essek was taller than him when he floated, and only when he floated. “Are you sure you want to visit Rexxentrum?”

“No one will expect to find me there. It will be fine for a few days.” He kissed Caleb’s forehead, and then lifted Caleb’s chin to kiss his mouth. “I wanted to see your new house. And you.”

Caleb dropped his head to Essek’s shoulder, breathing him in. This was the only peaceful moment they would have all day. Essek tucked Caleb’s head under his chin and gave him a squeeze.

“Caleb, are you all right?”

Caleb laughed softly, remembering the first time Essek had asked him in the heat of battle. “I don’t know. This is a lot.”

Essek kept squeezing; they had both discovered one rough night in Aeor that Caleb found this kind of careful pressure extremely comforting. “I understand. This is a huge change for you. Are you overwhelmed?”

“Ja, very.”

“I hope having me there will help, for what little time I can give.”

“You are already helping, Essek. Danke.”

Essek kissed the top of his head. He had slowly begun to initiate more physical contact, and their time together alone in Aeor had accelerated the process. It let Caleb pull back a bit and let himself accept Essek’s affection once in a while instead of constantly being the one to initiate. It was good. They were good.

Fuck , Caleb had missed him.

****

After saying his hellos and goodbyes to the Clays, Caleb palmed a small stone Yasha had dug from the garden bed behind the house and teleported himself, Caduceus and a disguised Essek. They landed in Caleb’s currently sparse sitting area, as planned.

“This is my side of the house. We are working on the furniture situation.” Caleb took them on a quick tour of the house, and was pleased to find Essek equally excited by the possibilities of the study as he had been.

They then used the door on the middle floor to cross into the other side and down the stairs into the crowded sitting area. Yasha was sitting on the rug, stitching a thick floral fabric to make curtains while Jester “helped” by painting tiny dicks on it. Beau and Fjord were sitting on the couch, watching with a mix of amusement and concern. Veth had probably been with them, but launched herself at Caleb for a hug as soon as he had appeared.

She had more or less glued herself to him since she had arrived, evidently sensing his lack of equilibrium. He was grateful she was there to ground him. For a long time, she and Frumpkin had been all that held together the tattered shreds of his mental health.

Caduceus slipped into the kitchen, but was the least sneaky man alive when he wasn’t trying to prank his siblings. He had a parcel in his hands, brought from the Grove. Caleb followed him.

Caduceus carefully stripped off the brown paper packaging to reveal a small wooden crate, from which he lifted a tea set complete with a kettle. He filled the kettle with water and set it over the fireplace, directing Caleb to light it. Caduceus pulled out a few small boxes of tea and cooking herbs from the Grove, arranging them in cabinets.

“I’ll bring another set next time I visit,” Caduceus promised. “Until then, you are required to spend time with the ladies. No locking yourself in the study and forgetting to eat.”

Essek chuckled from the doorway, knowing full-well Caleb would do exactly that. Repeatedly.

“We’ll go shopping together tomorrow,” Caduceus continued. “There are some things you three need for a good, complete kitchen and I don’t trust you to remember any of them, even with your memory.”

“Thank you, Caduceus.” Caleb was getting emotional again. “I, uh, am having coffee with an Evocation professor tomorrow morning, but we can go after that.”

Caduceus smiled at him. Soft, knowing. “I look forward to it.”

****

The Nein had apparently agreed without Caleb’s knowledge that they would stay on Beau and Yasha’s side for the night to give Caleb and Essek some privacy.

Caleb had ultimately decided to use the larger bedroom (the rest of the Nein may have insisted he treat himself). He was glad for it now that he had Essek in his bed. They were too tired for sex, and not really in the mood, but cuddling is a lot more comfortable when you’re not afraid of falling out of bed.

Essek had arranged things so he was lying on his back with Caleb curled around him. Caleb rested his head on Essek’s chest, listening to the gentle drumming of his heart, while Essek drew lazy patterns on his back with a finger. Spell symbols, mainly. Some Caleb recognised, and some he didn’t.

“This is a good location,” Essek said quietly. “Beauregard showed me a map of the city. It is central, but not too close to anything that would upset you more than the city in general already does.”

“Rexxentrum doesn’t upset me,” Caleb mumbled, halfway to sleep already. He tended to sleep better with trusted company these days.

“Beauregard told me what you said the first time you stepped foot here in years,” Essek said softly.

I don’t know if I can do this. “That was some time ago. It’s… easier now.”

“That does not mean it is easy.”

Caleb sighed deeply, closing his eyes. “Okay. It’s not. But that’s not… the last time I had a house was the Xhorhouse, and we all knew that was never permanent. The only home I’ve ever had that was supposed to be long-term… I burned it. The shitty hospital room they kept me in for eleven year was a roof over my head, one I barely remember, and that was… not a home. I was homeless for a long time. I have slept in the woods, in the streets, under bridges, where I could find even the tiniest bit of shelter. Now I own a house .”

“Caleb, I told you in the Grove this is a huge change for you.” Essek’s voice was soft but firm, as it often was when he thought Caleb was being needlessly stubborn or foolish. “You have been through so much , and now you are doing normal things like buying a house and putting down roots. And you have many painful memories here. I believe you will be okay, but you do not have to be. Not before you’re ready.”

Caleb felt foolish for letting this get to him so much. The last few days had been full of nothing but good things. But he was exhausted nonetheless, and eternally a hair’s breadth away from tears. Even in his worst moments, he had never been fragile in this way,  like he was a bucket of water with a hole in it that would leak at the slightest provocation.

Essek pressed his palm down between Caleb’s shoulder blades, forcing him to exhale. “Caleb. Be gentle with yourself. Give yourself time.”

Caleb chucked a little, despite his mod. “That is your specialty.”

“And I have taught you well.”

“The best teacher I ever had,” Caleb said quietly.

“You deserved better. Let yourself have better now, in your own time.”

“I’m trying.”

“I know. Stop pushing it. You know better than anyone it doesn’t work that way.” Essek’s hand slid into Caleb’s hair, cradling the base of his skull. “You of all people deserve patience and kindness, most of all from yourself. I will remind you of this.”

“Thank you.” Caleb pushed himself up on his elbows, finding Essek’s features in the dark. “You know, this is probably the safest I have been in close to twenty years.”

Essek reached up, tucking a strand of Caleb’s hand behind his ear. “Good. You deserve it. Even if I never have a moment’s peace for the rest of my life, all I want is for you to have all the safety and kindness you could ever need.”

“I would give it up in a heartbeat if I could help you.”

“I would never ask that of you,” Essek said warmly, but with a firm edge. “There are a great many things we have already given up. That one is not an option. Of all the people I have known in my 120 years, you deserve a lifetime of peace the most. Even if you will get bored eventually.”

Caleb slid a hand over Essek’s cheek, rubbing the soft skin with his thumb. “Remember when we thought we would never be the kind of people who would make big declarations of love at each other?” Because even if Essek wasn’t explicitly saying I love you , the words he did say were dripping with diamonds of unadulterated affection.

Essek huffed a soft laugh. “Most things between us do not need to be said. This does.”

“Thank you, Essek. I love you too.” Caleb rested his head over Essek’s heart once again, and let the gentle rhythm lull him to sleep.

[scapegrace74-blog]

Ginger Snap

A/N  I was driving down the highway today and saw the license plate “I PieGuy”.  By the time I got home, this story was half-born in my head.  I have no idea where it might go, but it’s taking up valuable shelf space in there, so I’m birthing it onto paper.  Modern AU.  Silly fluff.  Claire POV.  First person, which I never write, so watch out for stray pronouns.

The shriek of the fire alarm was the final straw.  I’d just stepped out of the kitchen for a minute, but that was all it took for calamity to strike.  Opening the oven door in a panic, billows of smoke engulfed me before I slammed it shut again.

“Shit.  Shitshitshit.  Shit!”

Waving a damp dish towel back and forth like a flag of surrender above my head caused the head-splitting siren to finally desist.  I blew a rogue curl off my sweaty brow and gave myself a pep talk.

“Time to woman up,” I sighed before donning the oven gloves and cautiously cracking the door once again.  More smoke escaped, smelling of burnt pastry and ruined hopes.  Once it cleared I could see the charred carcasses of what were supposed to be vol au vent shells.  I carefully extracted them from the oven and dropped the cooking sheet with a clatter onto the quartz countertop.

“Dinner is D.O.A, Doctor Beauchamp.  Now what the fuck am I going to do?”

***

Thirty minutes were spent cleaning the evidence of yet another cooking fiasco and ventilating our flat by opening every available window to let in the moist Edinburgh breeze.  I now had less than four hours before Frank and three other members of the university faculty would be descending, expecting a home-cooked meal and polite chitchat.  I was in no position to offer either.

In a last-ditch effort to salvage the evening, I typed “sophisticated home catering in Edinburgh” and started dialing.  The first four numbers yielded either an answering machine or the news (unsurprising) that at least two days’ advanced notice were required to book their services.  Nearly resigned to ordering in Italian and facing Frank’s wrath, a woman’s voice with a thick Scottish brogue picked up at the fifth business I called.

“Ye’ve reached Ginger Snap, this is Jenny speaking.  How may I help ye t’day?”

I poured out my tale of culinary woe, laying it on a bit thick, but I was truly desperate by this point.

“Aye, we’ve a chef available this afternoon.  What sort of menu were ye planning?” she asked.

“Really?  Oh my god, you’re a lifesaver!”

I gave Jenny the number of guests and a broad idea of what I’d hoped to serve, although I was in no position to be choosy.

“Never ye fear, Ms. Beauchamp.  We’ll pick up the necessary items and our chef will be at yer flat by four.  Tha’ should leave jus’ enough time tae have everything ready fer six.”

Thanking her profusely and not even inquiring about the charge, I stood triumphant in the middle of my immaculate yet useless kitchen.  Why hadn’t I thought of this sooner?

***

The buzzer rang as I was re-arranging the decorative objects atop our sideboard.  I was aiming for the artless sophistication featured in Frank’s favourite design magazines, but instead I lined up each item in order of descending size, or grouped them by historical era.  A second buzz had me trotting to the intercom where a male voice crackled.

“This is James Fraser o’ Ginger Snap Catering.  Can ye let me in?”

I stuck my head into the hallway to find four organic cotton tote bags bursting with produce at my doorstep.  Footsteps pounded down the stairs, where I assumed the chef had retreated to collect more supplies.  I brought the first load into the kitchen where I began to unpack foodstuffs the likes of which I’d never seen.  Not knowing what else to do to be helpful, I began sorting them; green leafy things here, round crispy things there.

“Hallo?” the same voice called from where I’d left the door ajar.  Wiping my hands nervously against my slacks, I went to greet him.

Standing in the doorframe, almost filling it with his immense size, was a young man who seemed more suited to a stag hunt or a rugby pitch than haute cuisine.  He had loose tawny curls, two days’ worth of stubble and wore a faded grey henley, dark wash jeans that clung to his muscular legs and utilitarian workman’s boots.

“Claire Beauchamp?” he interrupted my visual inventory.

“Hmm? Oh, yes.  Sorry.  Pleased to meet you.”

Something funny happened when our hands met in a firm shake.  A tachycardic blip, my internal medicine professor would have called it.  There was no time to analyze this response, however, as he was already on the move.

“James Fraser, at yer service.  I’d normally spend more time getting to know ye and yer style of entertaining, but we’re short on time, so let’s get straight to it, aye?”

I gave the chef a hasty tour of our kitchen, stumbling over the names of various implements and opening the wrong cupboard when looking for my saucepans.  I blushed as he raised an expressive eyebrow, but shook it off.  I was paying for his cooking proficiency, not his opinion on my lack of domestic competence.

“I ken ye spoke tae Jenny about yer menu, but I took a few liberties at the market, based on what looked freshest.  I recommend starting with a simple salad o’ nettle and radish, garnished with a wee round of goat cheese and rye crumbs.  Loin o’ lamb with new potatoes and pancetta fer yer main.  An’ a simple rhubarb custard fer dessert.  There’s none with food allergies, aye?”

“Aye,” I replied, then corrected “umm, no, rather,” at his concerned look.  “Are you sure you can manage all that in only,” I glanced at my wristwatch “ninety minutes?   It seems like an awful lot of work.”

“Och, tis no’ much.  Lamb cooks swiftly, ye ken.  Tis why I choose it over pork or poultry.”

My saviour rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, preparing to wash his hands and get down to work.  There was probably something else I should be doing elsewhere in the flat to prepare, but I didn’t want to appear completely useless to this unflappable man.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

He looked dubious and seemed prepared to politely decline, but then his expression shifted.

“Aye.  Ye can wash the tatties an’ chop the rhubarb while I dress the lamb, if ye dinna mind,” he suggested.

“Scrubbing in and wielding a knife happen to be two of the only transferrable job skills I bring to cooking,” I joked, taking my turn in front of the massive Belfast sink.

He emitted a low Scottish grunt of amusement before we each settled into companionable silence, focusing on our respective duties.  I glanced over at him surreptitiously, envying the ease with which he moved from task to task, lean and nimble hands working alchemy where I only succeeded in producing dross.

“Ye’re a doctor, then?” he asked after my chopped rhubarb had been set on the stovetop to stew and the lamb was marinating in a bath of lemon and fresh herbs.

“Umm, well, I was.  My partner and I moved here from Boston, where I trained as a surgeon.  I haven’t yet obtained my license to practice here in the UK, so I’m afraid I’m just a culinary liability for the moment.”

It was a current source of strife in my relationship with Frank.  He liked the idea of me keeping house, entertaining and eventually settling down to raise a family.  I chaffed at this unfamiliar routine.  But until I passed my licensing exams, it was rather a moot point.

“I’m sure ye’re far more than that,” he replied solemnly, before breaking into a sneaky grin.  “I’ve ne’er seen stalks of rhubarb cut quite sae... uniform.  Ye’d have a fine career in quality control, if ye wished.”

I faked throwing a dish towel at him while we both laughed.

“What about you, Mr. Fraser?  How did you get into the catering business?”  It wasn’t polite conversation.  I was really quite curious to know more about him.

“I’ll tell ye, but only if ye call me Jamie.”  At my nod, he continued, “twas my Mam.  She was always a great cook, but then my Da passed suddenly and she with three bairns under the age of ten tae raise. She needed tae work.  We moved tae Edinburgh an’ she laboured day and night tae save enough tae start her own catering business.  Since I was a lad, when I wasna in school I was in her kitchen, watching and learning all the while.”

His striking face took on a faraway expression, and I knew he was remembering those days with a mixture of wistfulness and love.  I recognized the look from my own reflection, when I thought about my dead parents.  Without realizing it, I lay my palm over his forearm where it had stilled above my butcher’s block.  His eyes were the same hue as midsummer blueberries, and they regarded me with silent inquiry.

A timer made us both jump, my hand falling to my side.  What was I thinking, touching this stranger who I was paying to cook dinner for my boyfriend’s guests?  I really needed to find a hobby, so my mind didn’t latch onto any feeble excuse for stimulation.

Brushing my hands against my thighs, I quickly excused myself and left to get properly dressed for dinner.  Only thirty minutes remained before Frank and his colleagues were due to arrive.  

I spent more time than was strictly necessary away from the kitchen, afraid I’d made things awkward with Jamie.  By the time I finally returned, he was plating the lamb and putting the custard in the refrigerator to set.  I tried to think of something to say that would re-establish the fluent rapport from earlier on.

“I’ve opened the wine tae let it breathe,” Jamie said without looking at me.  I wished there was a similar process for blundering Englishwomen.

“Jamie, I really don’t know how to...”

The sound of the front door opening interrupted me and Frank’s nasal voice rang out from the entryway.

“Claire, we’re here!”

“Fuck!” I exclaimed.  Jamie tipped his head sideways in question.  “I never had time to explain to my partner that I hired your services.  That’s the dean of his faculty out there, and...”  I broke off, looking frantically around the room as though a trap door would suddenly materialize.  Quick on his feet, Jamie understood the situation immediately.   The kitchen windows were still open after my earlier catastrophe.  With surprising grace for one so large, he slid through the opening and onto the fire escape.  

“Bon appetit, Claire Beauchamp,” the ginger chef wished from outside, a mischievous smirk lighting his whole countenance.

I stood, mouth open in shock, as he gave an abbreviated bow before scampering down the metal ladder just as Frank entered the kitchen behind me.

“This smells delicious, darling.  We really are going to make a chef out of you yet.”

[calwrites]

The Halloween Party

Summary: Reader has lived across the hall from Penelope Garcia for a couple years and considers her to be one of her best friends. That’s the only reason she agreed to go to a Halloween match making party.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2.2k

I wrote this very quickly so it’s not the best, but I couldn’t let Halloween go by without writing something for Reid.

——————

“I still can’t believe I let you talk me into this stupid match making thing,” you grumbled at the blonde currently on your couch.

Penelope Garcia smiled at you over her wine glass. “Well I wanted to go but only if my favorite neighbor did it too.”

“I’m the only neighbor you talk to,” you pointed out. Penelope stuck her tongue out at you and waved her empty glass in the air. You rolled your eyes, but refilled her glass anyway.

You and Penelope had lived in the same building for a few years. When you had seen the brightly dressed woman lugging boxes down the hall, you had offered to help her move everything in. She had intrigued you. You had passed each other in the hall a couple of times after that, but had never really talked until one evening when you heard a knock on your door.

It had puzzled you because you were still pretty new to the area so you didn’t have any friends who would be dropping by unexpectedly. Opening the door, you had found Penelope standing in the hall crying.

“I had a really bad day at work. I just really need someone to talk to,” she had said. You ushered her in and spent the night learning about Penelope’s job as a technical analyst for the BAU. Now whenever Penelope’s team got through with a tough case, she would come collapse on your couch while the two of you drank wine and decompressed.

“You’re also the one who told me to get out there and forget about Kevin,” Penelope countered.

“Yeah well I didn’t think you’d drag me along.”

“It’s not just you! I convinced some of my friends at the BAU to sign up too. Besides, I know you’re excited for the party. You already bought two dresses.” She pointed at the dresses still laying out on your kitchen table. You were trying to decide whether a black dress or white dress would be better for your costume.

“I’m always excited for a Halloween costume party. I just never thought I’d be one of those sad people who signs up for a matchmaking party.”

“Y/N, you are one of the smartest people I know. And I work for the FBI. I know a lot of smart people. The only reason you’re still single is because whenever you get time off from teaching you spend it trying to solve impossible math equations. And I thought you said your match sounded nice.”

You sighed. “Trying to solve an impossible math equation is arguably the most important part of my job. I think the university cares more about that than the courses I teach sometimes. I guess he does seem nice. He’s either very smart or he’s very good at using google to sound smart. Either way, when you look at the data, the likelihood of finding a long term partner through a survey is-“

Penelope groaned. “No! I get enough info dumping at work. Let’s just talk about the party. It’s next weekend and you’re buying clothes for it so I assume you and your partner decided on your costumes. What is it?”

When Penelope had invited you to a Halloween costume party, you had been quick to accept. She then told you that it was a matchmaking party where you had to fill out a survey and were then matched with another attendee. Pairs would have to decide on costumes and then find each other at the party. Until then, pairs wouldn’t know who the other person was. Definitely not your usual definition of fun.

“I’m not telling you,” you teased. Penelope gasped on faux anger before the two of you burst into laughter and decided on a movie to watch.

——————

You stared at your computer screen intently, willing the message to change.

I’ve been out of state for a work trip for the past few days. I didn’t mention it earlier because I was hoping that we would get back in plenty of time. It took a couple more days than we were anticipating though. We’re about to take off, so I’ll make it back in time for the party but I won’t have time to put out on my whole costume. I can just wear the cape or something if you don’t have any better suggestions. I’m looking forward to meeting you tonight.

You chewed your lip thoughtfully before an idea popped into your head. And you began typing back a response.

That’s a shame. I was looking forward to seeing your Masque of the Red Death costume. I have a new idea though. What character refused to wear a costume to a costume ball?

The response came back almost immediately.

And I was looking forward to seeing your Leonore costume. I’m sure that there are a number of characters who fit that description. Would you like a list?

You smiled and rolled your eyes.

It’s another gothic story. He’s throwing the fancy dress party, but he refuses to dress up. His new wife’s costume causes a bit of a stir. Enough clues?

The reply caused you to get up quickly to begin sorting out your new costume.

I’ll see you tonight, Mrs. de Winters.

A few hours later found you ready to leave. You were thankful that you still had the white dress you had previously purchased with the idea of using it for Leonore. You were even more thankful that you still had a wig from a few Halloween’s ago that worked for your costume. So now, with a white dress and curly dark hair, you were ready to leave.

“Ok I give up,” Penelope said when she opened her door. “What are you supposed to be?”

“I’m the narrator from Rebecca,” you told her. “It’s kind of a last minute costume. I’m glad your case wrapped up today. I would be bummed if I had to go without you.”

“Well it’s a good thing it didn’t come to that.” Penelope looped her arm through yours and pulled you down the hallway, the two of you laughing as you went.

——————

Thankfully the room wasn’t too loud when you and Penelope arrived. Jack-o-lanterns and bowls of candy sat on tables around the edge of the room, and bats and ghosts hung from the ceiling. You and Penelope made a circuit around the room, trying to find your matches.

“Maybe ours guys are running late,” Penelope suggested. The two of you had moved to a snack table while you surveyed the sea of costumes around you.

“Or they’re ditching us.” Penelope gave you a playful swat. You were saved from another attack by Penelope’s phone dinging.

“Oh! Some of my friends are here. Come meet them.” Before you could protest, Penelope was dragging you across the room. Two people stood against the wall talking, but broke into smiles and waved when they saw Penelope approaching.

“Y/N, this is Derek and Emily. Guys, this is my neighbor Y/N.”

You smiled and shook hands with the two FBI agents.

“So you’re the famous Y/N,” Derek grinned. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Famous? If anyone is famous it’s Derek “chocolate thunder” Morgan. The way Penelope talks about you, I was imagining a superhero. She wasn’t wrong.”

“I like her,” Derek laughed.

Emily groaned. “He does not need a bigger ego.”

“Where’s Reid?” Penelope asked. “Don’t tell me he bailed.”

“He said he needed to stop by his apartment first. We came straight from the plane. And don’t worry, Hotch and JJ both assured us they would take pictures of the kids in their costumes.” Penelope squealed and clapped her hands excitedly.

You chatted with Penelope and her friends for a few more minutes before Penelope spotted a man wearing a matching costume to hers. She waved bye to your little group and rushed off to meet him, leaving you with the two FBI agents.

“Oh there’s Pretty Boy,” Derek cried.

“I was kind of expecting you to show up in an intricate costume. You love Halloween, Spencer,” Emily said.

You turned to find a handsome man approaching your group. He was wearing a nice suit and had a leather satchel slung over his shoulder.

“No time, unfortunately.” The man shrugged. “I just had to pick up some books from my apartment. Hi. I’m Dr. Spencer Reid. You must be Garcia’s friend.” He turned to you, but didn’t extend a hand. You realized that this must be the young genius Penelope mentioned from time to time.

“Y/N,” you replied. Spencer’s eyes took in your costume carefully. You tried not to shift uncomfortably.

“Are you planning on doing some reading tonight?” Derek asked.

“No. My date and I were discussing a volume of poetry that I have, so I wanted to bring it to show her.”

“What a ladies man,” Emily teased. “How’s she going to know it’s you though? You’re not wearing a costume.”

“Actually, I am.” Spencer smiled slightly at the confused looks on his friends’ faces. What he just said clicked for you suddenly.

“Maxim?” You asked before you could stop yourself.

Spencer blinked at you in surprise before smiling widely. “Mrs. de Winters?”

Emily and Derek looked between of you in slight confusion, but you and Spencer smiled at each other in delight. “We’ll leave you two to it,” Derek teased as he and Emily walked away.

“I’m glad that you’re a friend of Penelope’s and not a complete stranger,” you admitted. “I was a little worried I’d get stuck with some weirdo. Not that you sounded weird when we talked!”

“Well our first conversation was about the statistics of meeting a murderer when online dating. That’s a little weird.” The two of you laughed slightly.

“I’m a math professor, so I’m interested in anything statistics,” you admitted. “I’m kind of a nerd.”

“Same,” Spencer laughed. “You know these last minute costumes were a good idea.”

“I still want to see your Masque of the Red Death costume sometime.”

“Deal, but only if you tell me what you teach.”

You waved your hand. “Oh nothing exciting. Just some upper level math that nobody wants to take. The fun part of my job is trying to solve the Riemann hypothesis.”

“You’re trying to solve one of the Millennium Prize problems?” Spencer asked in surprise.

“I’m surprised you know about it.” Most people you talked to had no idea what the Millennium Prize problems were. You were sure they wondered why a university would tenure you just so you could keep trying to solve a math problem.

“I’ve looked over them before,” Spencer admitted shyly, like he was waiting for you to make fun of him.

“No luck?”

“Way beyond my level.” The two of you laughed slightly. A slower song began to play and couples danced slowly across the dance floor.

“Want to dance?” you suggested. Spencer hesitated and you worried for a second that you had overstepped, but then he smiled and held out his hand.

Neither one of you were very good dancers, but what you lacked in talent you made up for in smiles. You continued to discuss everything from mathematical theory to what working at the FBI was like to classic literature.

“Do you think this is how the Manderley fancy dress party would have gone if Mrs. Danvers hadn’t sabotaged the narrator?” you asked. “They could have been as happy as us dancing.”

Spencer thought for a moment. “I don’t think so. I don’t think they could have been truly happy together with all of the secrets still between them.”

“True,” you agreed. “So you think we’re happy?”

When Spencer smiled at you, your heart fluttered. “I’m pretty happy. This is going a lot better than I expected. Not that I didn’t think you sounded great when we talked online! But Derek said something about you sounding too good to be true, so I started to worry that you wouldn’t be as amazing in person, but I shouldn’t have. You’re even better in person.”

You smiled gently back at Spencer. “You’re better in person too.”

Spencer studied your face intently for a few seconds, a look of uncertainty on his face. “Can I kiss you?” he asked quickly, like he was afraid he would lose his nerve if he waited.

Your smile grew. “I’d like that,” you responded.

Spencer put one hand gently on your cheek, the other still resting on your waist, and brought his lips down to meet yours. When the two of you broke away, still smiling widely, you were totally oblivious to the looks of shock and delight on the FBI agents’ faces.

“I think we might have to do this again sometime, Mrs. de Winters.”

“I think so, Maxim.”

Without speaking, the two of you leaned in again, and you were able to capture Spencer’s lips once more. You didn’t think you’d get tired of this any time soon. If only you had taken Penelope up on her offer to set the two of you up last year.

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

College AU Week 1 Day 5 - Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia

A/N: We only have two more days for college week! On Friday we will begin the shop AU week! Thank you for reading, reblogging, commenting, and liking! I read all of it and it makes my heart happy. :)

Pairing: Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia x F! Reader 

Warnings: 18 + (Language 

My Masterlist 

We’re studying in the library, and there are two people very obviously fucking in the stacks, and we keep sharing embarrassed glances - Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia 

You gazed up at him through the veil of your lashes. He was older than the others in your class, retiring from the army and going back to school on the G.I bill. The first day you saw him in the U-shaped classroom, he sat directly across from you. 

You shyly smiling at him as he almost seemed to glow from the brightness of his own smile. Every day you would wait in the hallway to talk to him, him always staying behind to speak with your professor. And every single day, he would shuffle out a quick hello and be dashing down the hall. 

You were beginning to feel like the looks you shared with him across the classroom were one-sided until last week. A group project was announced, and you felt the possibility swirl around you. The partners were assigned, and luck was on your side as the professor said your name and his, Santiago Garcia. 

Fuck, even his name was dreamy. On that day after class, he was the one waiting for you, and you exchanged numbers. Flirting heavily on both sides, as you agreed to meet at the library at ten in the morning on Sunday. 

That’s how you ended up across from the silver fox before you. His curls drooping across his forehead lightly, wet from the light rain outside.  Skin sun-kissed and tight in the confines of his t-shirt, his jacket thrown off across the back of the chair. 

And if you didn’t think he could get any fucking sexy, the readers on the edge of his nose have pushed you over the edge. You swear you could orgasm just watching him read from across from you. The way his fingers smooth against the pages of the book when his tongue comes out to swipe his finger as he turns the page. 

“Hey,” you shake your head and look up, alarmed, into his amused eyes. “Are you okay?” 

“Uhm, yeah, why?” 

“Because you were zoning out on me. I’m not boring you, am I?” his eyes alight with mischief, knowing he caught you watching him. 

“Yeah, I just…” quick think of something quick brain you search for an answer, “your glasses are really sexy.” You feel the heat on your face and drop your head groaning. Fuck, that is not what you meant to say. 

He lets out a chuckle, “You really think so? They don’t make me look like an old man?” 

“No, not at all! I…” you bite your lip, “I really like them.” Shit might as well go for it. “I really like you in general.” 

He smiles a real genuine smile and reaches across the table for your hand. They’re warm and calloused from his time in the service, and you tremble as he rubs his thumb in circles on your skin. “I like you too,” he whispers, never looking away. “Would you like to get dinner with me after we’re done?” 

You nod, “Yes!” you cover your mouth at the shout before you both burst out laughing. 

His smile warms you to your core, and you swear you could get lost in the depth of his eyes. But, something always ruins the moment, and this time it’s two someone's. The moans echo off the walls of the third floor. A woman moans loudly, and you hear the sounds of books cascading to the floor of the library as a man groans, both them panting. 

Oh fuck. 

Someone is fucking in the goddamn library. 

Santi looks around wide-eyed as he hears it too. Before looking back at you, smiling and trying to suppress his laughter. “I guess we aren’t the only ones feeling the love in the library,” you laugh before processing his words…wait, love? 

It’s almost as if he processes the same time as you, both of you sharing a look across the table. With the sounds coming from the stacks and the heat rising, you let go of his hand and push the books to the floor, crawling across the small table and straddling his waist. He’s waiting for you and pulls you to him faster, both of you groaning at being so close at last. 

His hands run over your back up and down, and your hands find their home on his neck. Your lips but a breath away, and you see the lust in his eyes as his iris are blown open. “Kiss me, Santiago,” you whisper, and before his name is off your lips, he is on you. 

It’s needy and sexual in nature. His lips and tongue working you open on a gasp, your hands moving up to those curls you’ve dreamed about. Running your fingers through and scratching his scalp lightly. He pulls away to let out a breathy moan dropping his head back. You take advantage and press your lips to the light scruff of his neck. His hands moving lower to knead the flesh of your ass as you nip lightly at his skin. 

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” he lets out a groan as you circle your hips and feel his cock press against you through his jeans. 

“So do you,” you whisper into his ear before biting down on the lobe. The other moans in the room have stopped, but you both don’t seem to notice or care. Suddenly, you hear a loud cough behind you, and both of your freeze. Turning slowly, you see a couple standing there, arms crossed, smiling. 

“You son of a bitch,” the man laughs, pointing at Santi, “See, sweetheart, I told you I knew that voice!” The girl looks at him, annoyed, before she gives him a fake smile and a halfhearted call me before she stalks away. 

“Do you know him?” you whisper, and Santi groans. 

“Unfortunately,” he points to the grinning man, “this is my old buddy Benny.” 

“Hello!” the man shouts, waving at you, and you give a tentative wave back, smiling. 

“So this the girl you’ve been pining over? Finally got the balls to ask her out?” 

“Fuck, Ben, really?” Santiago asks, pulling you down and into his chest, tucking your head under his chin. “Yes, this is the one I’ve been talking about; damn, Benny, you are so fucking embarrassing.” 

“You’ve been talking about me?” You smile and pull back to look at him, still straddled across his waist. And when he nods, you kiss him again, both of you turning at the sound of laughter. 

“I’ll leave you both to it, and just so you know fucking in the stacks back there are dusty! I would recommend the ancient history section; it’s got much broader shelving,” he laughs and walks off. 

“Your friends are interesting,” you let out a chuckle and watch his dirty blonde locks disappear behind the corner. 

“Oh, that’s not even all of them. Wait till you meet Will and Frankie! So what do you say? Shall we take a walk-off into ancient history?” he teases. 

“Well, you know I’ve always wanted to learn more about Cleopatra and Julius Cesar.” You turn and grab his hat off the table, planting it on your head. 

He grins, helping you stand before taking your hand, “Then lead the way, my lady.” 

Taglist: @oldstuffnewstuff​ @yespolkadotkitty​ @heythere-mel​ @justanotherblonde23​ @artsymaddie​ @anetteaneta​ @lunarthoughts​ @aellynera​ @lucifer-​ @houseofthirst​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @chicken-ona-stick​ @josepedropascal​ @letoartreiides​ @revolution-starter​ @itspdameronthings​

[buckyownsmylife]

Touch-A Touch-A Touch me - Part II - Sebastian Stan smut

The one where you get back to Professor Stan’s apartment and he’s not behaving like you’re used to.

Warnings: smut, pwp, professor-student relationship (both legal), dominant relationship, jealousy, begging, dirty talk, ice play, insecure! Seb, secret relationship, sir kink, spanking (briefly), sex with clothes on while partner is naked

A/N: Okay, you guys! Here it is! This is the second part to my Sebastian Stan Professor AU that I promised I’d do and that the sweet @godohammers encouraged me to write! You don’t need to read that one to understand this, but if you want, here it is! I hope you guys like it!

Y/N’s P.O.V.

As I made my way into his apartment, I felt like my skin was on fire from all the desire I had boiling inside of me. It was like this every time I had to deal with Sebastian’s eyes on me for any amount of time. Knowing that he had done precisely that all throughout the evening - not to mention the little episode we shared inside the bathroom - had made me wetter than I cared to admit.

Having to spend all night apart from him was terrible. Having to take a separate cab to go back to his place was awful. But nothing was worse than bursting through his door to find him quietly sipping on a glass of scotch, piercing eyes connected to mine, but otherwise absolutely silent.

“C’mon, baby, please…” I had been begging for the last fifteen minutes, but still, nothing. He had ordered me to strip and relieved me of the agony the fabric of the dress was prompting as it brushed against my hardened nipples, but now I was being faced with a different type of torture. Being spread out for him over his mattress while he quietly watched as my wetness gathered over my pussy, until it was slowly dripping from me onto the bed.

He hadn’t even touched me. And he hadn’t allowed me to touch myself either. I was a mess and all from the effect he caused on me, simply by his staring.

My desperate whine must have prompted him to approach, or maybe it was because he had finally finished his drink. All I knew is that suddenly he had pulled me by the back of my head so our lips could connect in a kiss that was all fire and tongue and I was already on the edge just from this little bit of contact.

God, I needed him.

“You’re so wet, baby,” he pointed out after he let me go, pushing me back into the bed. He carefully made his way around the mattress, still not climbing into it, just staring with a piercing attention at my body. “Who made you this wet?” He asked, collecting some of my wetness with two of his long fingers, before rubbing them together. The touch was so light, barely there, but it fed the fire in my lower stomach, making me gasp in excitement. “Was it Tom?”

The question made me freeze. Who the fuck was Tom?

Then, suddenly, I remembered. And it all made sense.

“You’re jealous,” I noted. “Of professor Hardy?” Sebastian didn’t say anything, opting instead to turn his back to me and walk towards his now empty glass. Except it wasn’t empty, I was suddenly made aware as he came back to me after having scooped up a single piece of ice.

He still didn’t say anything as he held it above my body, letting it drip just between my breasts. The coldness surprised me, even if I thought I was prepared for it. I gasped, my breasts bouncing as I convulsed, my nipples screaming out for attention.

That made him smile.

“So I can still get such a reaction from you, huh?” The answer was obvious, but at least now I knew where the question was coming from. Underneath that cold exterior, I could now see the insecurity in his eyes. Sometimes I forgot that it was hard for him too, having to keep this relationship a secret. But I was more than eager to help remind him that I was his, and that’s what I wanted to be for as long as he wanted me.

“You can always get this reaction from me, sir. Only you.” It was clearly the right thing to say, by the way he rewarded me with a quick kiss on the lips that honestly only left me wanting more. But then the ice was deposited just above my belly button and down, down, down it went, until it met another type of wetness, the one I was producing. After quickly rubbing it over my throbbing clit, he pushed it inside of me, right where I had been desperate for his touch. “Seb… Seb, please, please fuck me…” I begged, but my only answer was a spank to my clit with the hand that wasn’t otherwise occupied.

“I’m not in the mood to play games, doll.” Crying out, I instinctively tried to move my hips so his fingers would provide me with at least some of the friction I so desperately desired.

“I’m sorry, sir,” I scrambled to rectify it. “Please, sir… Please, fuck me.” Although he didn’t immediately answer, his eyes never strayed from mine, and his hand kept moving, giving me at least the tiniest bit of pleasure. Still, it could never compare to how it felt to have him inside of me.

Finally, after what felt like forever, he granted me a tiny nod, but his face never showed any emotion, remaining in that same distant demeanor I had found when I first entered his apartment. I had no idea what his acquiescence meant, but I was desperate to find out.

“Do you want to cum tonight?” He asked, his voice not betraying any of the emotions that would help me understand what was going on inside his head. But I knew the answer he wanted to hear.

“Yes, please, sir.” I immediately nodded, licking my lips at the prospect of having him inside of me, filling me up, stretching me out like he always did. No matter how many times he fucked me, it was always the tiniest bit uncomfortable when he first pushed in, but I had come to cherish that immediate sensation and now constantly craved for it.

“Then beg for my cock. Assure me it’s the only one you want. Remind me you’re mine and only mine.” He had unbuckled his trousers while speaking, and his cock was now tightly secured in his fist, that travelled up and down his length while he stared down at my naked body. 

“I am,” my response came without any need to think about it. “God, I’m all yours, sir. Mind, body and soul. No one can make me feel the way that you do. Please, please fuck me. I feel so empty without you inside of me.” For the first time that night, his lips twitched up, betraying how my words had really affected him. 

In a second, he made his way over to me, still not properly undressing, but that was the least of my concerns. At least now I had him between my legs, his weight pressing me down, his warmth seeping into my skin even through the layers of his three-piece suit.

Seb’s P.O.V.

“I love you so much,” I muttered against her neck as I fused us together. The welcoming gasp she let out every single time I thrusted into her was like music to my ears. “You are everything to me, baby girl.”

Little moans of pleasure escaped her delicious lips as she accepted my declarations and the movement of my hips as I tried to find that one spot that made her eyes roll back. When I did, she gasped again, one of her arms coming around my shoulders to hug me closer to her. 

“I-I love you too, sir,” she managed to admit, although she could barely open her eyes as I continued to passionately fuck her against the mattress. I wasn’t completely satisfied with her words, however, and I let her know by biting on her earlobe.

“No sir anymore, darling. Just me. Tell me you love me, c’mon. I wanna hear you say my name.” The vulnerability in my tone made her open her eyes to stare up at me, her lips still somewhat open from the sounds she couldn’t stop releasing.

“I love you, Seb,” she said, her eyes connected with mine like our bodies were, no hesitation in her declaration. The moment became too much for me. The sight of the woman that I loved underneath me, telling me she felt the same way, the feeling of her wet, tight walls clenching around me… I came with a strangled groan, my knees failing to keep me up as she screamed my name when my spurts of cum caused her to reach her high too.

We stayed there for a long while, just silently basking in each other’s warmth, while Y/N caressed my hair and I thought long and hard about the evening we had shared. “I’m sorry,” I decided to come out with it sooner than later.

“For what?” She asked, stopping her movements, which allowed me to push myself away from her chest to look her in the eye.

“For being a jealous asshole. For being blinded by Tom’s interest in you and letting it get to me. I never really thought you’d reciprocate his feelings, I was just… scared. I don’t want to lose you.” Y/N opened up a smile at my words, but her eyes seemed somewhat saddened by them.

“You’re never going to lose me, Seb. I love you.” She pushed herself to lean on her elbows, so she could kiss my forehead briefly. “Besides, Professor Hardy is nowhere near as hot as you.”

That made me laugh out loud, and just like that, the cloud of anxiety that had been weighing me down was pushed away, ignored and forgotten by the incredible caring power of my girlfriend.

“I’m not so sure your friends would be completely in agreement with you,” I argued, but she simply shook her head, strands from her hair sticking to her sweaty skin. She had a determined look on her face that begged me to take whatever she was going to say very seriously.

“They have terrible taste in everything, including men. Please don’t use them as any sort of standard of judgment, or you will be embarrassed by it.” Her words were so honest that I knew there was a story behind it. Already laughing, I managed to ask, “You’re talking from a personal experience, darling?”

She looked at me with wide eyes, like she was suddenly brought back from some difficult memories by my question. “Yes,” she admitted, but immediately added, “Please don’t make me elaborate on that.”

With another hearty laugh, I hugged her to my chest, squeezing her as hard as I could, thankful to whatever God was in charge that we had managed to find each other. “Of course, baby girl. Let’s talk about better things, tell me you love me again.” This time, it was her laugh that filled the room and my heart, and with that loving sound in my life, I was sure I’d be able to overcome any obstacle that might appear in my way - even if it was another suitor interested in her caresses. Because I knew the only person who would ever received them would be me.

[lifeistooshorttowasteyourtime]

Weasley Love: Part 6 - What future could be

Chapter summary: being a young adult in a world threatened by an impending war is definitely terrifying and it must also be added the fact of becoming independent. The Weasley twins are very clear about what they want and work hard for it, (Y/N) must manage to be the owner of her future outside of Hogwarts next to a successful partner.

>previous chapter / next chapter   //   SERIES MASTERLIST

Warning: mentions of death, a slap and *spoiler* sorry if you like Percy

*****

(Y/N) opened a box and smiling looking inside “I think you didn’t actually want me to open this box” she reached into the box and pulled out a piece of underwear smiling.

The twins looked at her and burst into laughs before approaching her.

“You’ve seen most of mine” George shrugged taking the underwear.

“And I don’t have anything to hide” Fred took the box to move it into the dorms.

She chuckled and sighed leaning on a wall, looking around the small but warm living room. George observed her before going to her and wrapping his arms around her, kissing her temple “what do you think?”.

“It’s amazing that you have become independent and I think this house is great for the two of you”.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit small or old?”.

“No!” she wrapped her arms around his neck “I mean, you might paint it and maybe change the main door, but besides that, I really like it. And the fact that is above the shop is a winning situation” she smiled before kissing his lips softly.

George sighed and pulled away his head slightly “you know what it would be a winning situation? If you were here too” (Y/N) frowned titling her head and he pulled away, taking her hands in his “what I mean is, why don’t you move in with us?”.

Her eyes widened surprised, they hadn’t talked about living together even though that summer they had spent almost all the time together. Fred appeared in the living room and crossed his arms with a small cough. George turned around and smiled at his twin knowing he had his full support.

“I…” she started, looking at the brothers and moving away from the wall “but, this is your house. I know you were looking forward to living alone, I would be a bother and break your dynamic” said the last thing looking at Fred who shrugged.

“I’m up for it as long as you keep your love activities at night as quiet as possible” (Y/N)’s cheeks turned bright red, making the oldest twin to burst into laughs “come on, I don’t mind at all having you here. Although you might regret having me as a roommate”.

“Fred…” George groaned before looking at his girlfriend “love, listen, we really want you to move in, we’ve been talking about it. But just if you want it. If you don’t, that’s perfectly fine too”.

“It’s not that” she smiled at him and put her hands on his chest “I would love to, but I think it’s not fair, I can’t pay rent. And don’t tell me I wouldn’t need to, you know I wouldn’t live here for free”.

The twins looked at each other before Fred spoke up “well, you could put that dream of yours on work” George titled his head looking at his brother “you could negotiate for us with suppliers, some are from other races and it’s a bit complicated for us to communicate, and it wouldn’t be a job like being in the shop, you can combine it with that course of yours”.

“Have you been thinking about it?” George asked surprised at which Fred shrugged with a smirk.

The youngest twin looked at his girlfriend that was looking at Fred with squinted eyes, thinking about the proposition “I think it’s a fair deal until you find a job”.

(Y/N) sighed and nodded mumbling “it could work”.

“So…?” George started to ask with a huge smile.

The girl looked at Fred with a raised eyebrow “are you sure you don’t mind me around here being lovely-dovely with your brother?”.

Fred laughed and shook his head “it would be just like in school so…”.

She laughed and looked at George who was staring at her, waiting for her response. (Y/N) sighed and nodded “okay, yes. I would love to live and work partially with you”.

The redhead cheered happily and took her face between his hands to kiss her, making her laugh against his lips.

“Okey, okey, okey, too much love and it’s not for me” Fred said jokingly and went to them, wrapping his arms around the couple.

The both of them laughed and (Y/N) looked up at the oldest twin with a bright smile. Fred smiled back and kissed her forehead “I must warn you that I’m not friend of picking up after my things”.

“I don’t care much and, besides, I’m not going to put a foot in your room so…”.

George chuckled and Fred smirked hugging them again while yelling “roomies!”.

*****

“… and they go to sleep quite late but I assure you that they are eating well and resting”.

Arthur Weasley nodded with a small smile “it reassures me to know that you are around them to check they take care of themselves and not just work. I am really proud of them, really, really proud, but I worry too”.

“It’s perfectly understandable Mr. Weasley” she looked ahead, seeing the Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes that made her smile “although I wouldn’t worry to much, your sons know what they are doing. They are amazing. All your children are”.

The man smiled brightly “thank you for your kind words, dear”.

She shook her head and the both of them walked to the shop, having a bit of trouble to step into it because of the people there. It was usual since the inauguration.

George saw her in the moment she appeared through the door and he approached with a frowned, followed by Fred.

“Weren’t you going to use the Floo network?” he asked when he reached (Y/N).

“Hello to you too” she smiled and kissed his cheek “don’t fear, I’ve come with someone really special”.

George looked over her shoulder to see his smiling father.

“Hello dad” the twins said in unison making (Y/N) chuckle.

The four of them went to the counter where the brothers talked with his father while the young woman attended a couple of wizards.

“…and what is it about the Floo network?” Arthur asked frowning a bit.

The three of them sighed and George wrapped his arm around (Y/N) who was the one to reply “since things are getting a bit… unsafe, we decided I would come from the course in the Ministry directly home by the Floo network”.

“I see, that’s a very reasonable plan. I’ve seen most of the shops has already closed… What a pity…”.

George went to attend the clients while Fred turned to his father “do you want to stay for dinner, dad?”.

“Oh no, no. I wanted to see you both AND give you something” he took a package from his bag “food from mom”.

“Yay!” Fred cheered taking the package “I’ll send her an owl when we close the shop”.

“And meanwhile I will take this upstairs” (Y/N) took the package “I have to do some translations so I must start now before dinner time. See you and my father for tea tomorrow?”.

“Of course, darling. See you tomorrow”.

The girl kissed Mr. Weasley’s cheek and squeezed George’s arm with a smile while passing by him and going to their house.

Two hours later the twins appeared in the house, Fred going to the shower after ruffling (Y/N)’s hair in his way. George laughed seeing her trying to tame her hair and kissed her lips “are you going to stay up all night again? I should worry this is going to be like OWLS’ time” he took a sit next to her on the sofa.

“No, don’t worry. I’m not going to skip meals, I promise” she sighed, putting away her homework and let herself fall, putting her head on his lap. George caressed her hair with a smile and she snuggled against his stomach with a sigh.

“I… I have a proposition” she looked up at him curiously “we’ve been working nonstop, barely having time for ourselves and… I think we should truly spend time as a couple. Now that we are out of Hogwarts and we can truly spend time together, I don’t want to stuck in a routine. And, with everything that is going on, I just… want to enjoy with you”.

(Y/N) took his hand from her hair and brought it to her lips, kissing the back of his hand and fingers while looking up at him “I completely and totally agree”.

George smiled and leaned in to kiss her “I’ll pick you up tomorrow” kiss “and I’ll take you somewhere I truly like” kiss.

“Where? With how things are going…”.

“It’s near my parents, it’s a place I used to go with Fred but I haven’t taken you there yet. If we see something strange, we can run there, it’s pretty close”.

“But, haven’t your parents put a protective charm around so just your family can go through it?”.

“Yeah but you are in that list too, I told my mom to give you permission”.

(Y/N) pouted playfully and wrapped her arms around his shoulders pulling him closer and kissing his neck mumbling ‘I love you’. He laughed and sought her lips, kissing her softly while talking about the date of the following day.

*****

“I don’t think is safe anymore, I know they’ve been tracking my trips”.

(Y/N) and the rest of the students were shocked and angry about the decision of their professor to end the course abruptly. But she had her reasons, fear the main one. They all left the room, barely with a goodbye when the professor disappeared. The girl walked towards the fire places to take the Floo back home when she heard a conversation that called her attention because of a familiar voice.

“… if she has ended that poor of excuse of course, it’ll be something” followed by obnoxious laughs “and their students should be watched too, who know what they had been learning”.

She clenched her teeth and turned to the group and marched towards them “don’t you dare talk about her like that” the men turned to her and, the one who has talked, stared at her condescendingly “you know nothing, you are just a group of arrogant, conceited, ass-licking of a worthless minister”.

“How you dare…?” one of them say, but the redhead stopped his co-worker, taking a step towards the girl.

“And do you think you are in position to teach us anything? Someone who needs to keep ‘studying’ after school, that says a lot about you, or that you get the crumbs of a jokester who doesn’t know anything but be a clown”.

(Y/N) didn’t think. She just acted. And her hand slapped Percy Weasley’s cheek with force, making his glasses to fall. Three wands, from the other men present, raised to her but she kept staring at Percy that looked at her outraged. She took a step closer, almost being chest to chest although she had to look up.

“You don’t deserve to have the Weasley surname, you do not deserve the family you have. When you find yourself alone because of something as absurd as ambition that it will take you nowhere, remember my words, you are a disgrace”.

Then she turned around and left quickly even though the men yelled after her. She took the Floo network and landed at her empty house breathing hastily. She threw her bag on the floor and let herself fall on the sofa, trying to calm herself. She hadn’t spoken that much at Percy, ever, but she couldn’t stand how he treated his family in favour of the Ministry.

Suddenly the main door opened abruptly with his hand in his hand and walked to her agitated “are you okay?” she frowned “we've heard a thump from the shop”.

“I’m sorry, I’ve just thrown my bag on the floor” explained with a sigh.

George frowned seeing her with a defeat face so he crouched in front of her and caressed her cheek “I’m going down to tell Fred, but I’m going to go back and you are going to tell me what has happened” she was going to protest but he took her face and caressed her cheeks, wiping away a tear she hasn’t realized that had fallen “give me five minutes”.

She nodded with a sigh and he kissed her forehead before leaving. It was more than 5 minutes, but because George wasn’t alone. Fred sat on the floor in front of her while George sat next to her on the sofa.

“Have you closed the shop?” she asked frowning.

“Don’t worry about it and spill it” Fred said staring at her.

“I… I might have slapped Percy across the face”.

The twins looked at each other with widened eyes before looking at her. Looking down, she explained them everything, from the abruptly cut in her course from the argument with their brother.

“… and if your mom ever knows, she’s going to hate me”.

“Don’t worry about mom and I don’t think he would humiliate himself telling how you’ve put him in his place” George said with a smirk.

“I would have paid to se his face” Fred laughed “thank you sister, really”.

She shook her head with a small smile.

“And now what is going to happen with your studies?” George asked caressing her arm.

(Y/N) shrugged and pressed her lips into a thin line before speaking again “right now, I don’t really care. She has a point, you know? I’ve seen people coming and going in the Ministry and they didn’t seem that friendly… It’s actually getting a bit scary” she looked at George “my dad wants to go away with my grandma”.

“And are you going with them?” Fred asked looking at her.

She looked at the oldest twin and shook her head “no, I want to fight when the time comes”.

Fred smiled at her while George seemed worried but didn’t say anything and just hugged her to him, which she responded snuggling to him with a small smile.

*****

George approached (Y/N) that was sitting with Bill and Fleur, the three of them with sad smiles while they talked between them. In the moment they knew about the attack on Hogwarts, and the death of Dumbledore, (Y/N) hadn’t left the engaged couple’s side for too long, worried about Bill but also Fleur, wanting to help her and Mrs. Weasley to take care of the oldest of the siblings.

“I’m sure you two will look amazing” (Y/N) said softly to the couple.

“You too” Fleur smiled at her “you are really pretty”.

The girl blushed and thanked her shyly. George sat next to her and kissed her head before greeting his brother and future sister-in-law “what were you talking about?”

“The wedding” Fleur answered smiling brightly, she was looking forward to spend the rest of her life with Bill “after all of this, I want to hold to the happy things”.

“Couldn’t agree more” (Y/N) nodded and leaned on George “have your parents already gone back to the Burrow?”.

“Not yet, they are waiting for you two” said the redhead to the couple “but don’t worry, they are talking with McGonagall”.

“But we should already go” Bill spoke up and they all stood up “will you come for dinner?”.

“Sure” George accepted for both.

They said their goodbye, Bill kissing (Y/N) forehead, before reuniting with Molly and Arthur. George and (Y/N) just started to walked down the aisle, greeting some people, stopping to talk to some of them. They reached Ron and Hermione who was crying on the boy’s shoulder while he caressed her arm. Ron looked up at them and (Y/N) waved with a small smile without wanting to interrupted.

They met Ginny halfway the aisle, seeing Harry walking away by himself. (Y/N) hugged the girl with a sigh and kissed her cheek “how is he?”.

“He doesn’t want to talk about it, it’s understandable” Ginny swallowed “guys, this is the start. This is the start of the war and I’m afraid for him, for all of us”.

“If we stay together, we’ll end him. And Harry won’t be alone in this” (Y/N) tried to encourage her, squeezing her hand while talking.

Ginny nodded unconvinced and the three of them walked to Fred that was talking with a some of Gryffindors and stayed there with Lee and Angelina for a while. (Y/N) and George were hand in hand and she hugged his arm, leaning her head on it without truly listening to the conversation.

A bit later, an owl appeared and offered (Y/N) a letter so they all kept silence while she read it. She sighed deeply and smiled “my dad and grandma are safe in Italy now”.

George smiled and kissed her head. She smiled up at him and saw by the corner of her eye Professor Lupin and the Auror Nyphadora Tonks, which was a talented and funny witch. A surprising but fitting couple. She bit her lip and made a decision, going to them quickly and leaving a frowning George behind.

“Professor, may I have a word with you?”.

“I’m not your professor anymore, (Y/N). You may call me just Lupin” he said with soft voice.

She smiled and nodded “Lupin and Tonks, I want to join the Order”.

George stood by her side and stared at her surprised but she kept looking at the adults that looked between them.

“I know the danger but you’ll need all the help you can now, right? Please, I want to help”.

Lupin looked at George who smiled softly at his girlfriend. It was Tonks who spoke up “we will talk with the rest, but consider yourself inside fellow Hufflepuff” she winked at her “talk soon, then”.

The Auror took Lupin’s arm softly and the both of them said their goodbyes.

(Y/N) turned to George and looked up at him a bit nervous about his reaction to her suddenly decision. But he just smiled at her and put her hair behind her ear “so… The Order”.

“I feel I’m doing nothing and I really want to fight”.

He sighed and hugged her to him “my brave Hufflepuff”.

She chuckled and hugged him back tightly “but I’m really scared”.

“I would be worried if you weren’t… But as you’ve said Ginny, as long as we are together, we will win”.

The girl nodded and pressed her cheek to his chest, looking up at the castle that had been their home, the place that had seen the birth their relationship, filled with memories and laughs. The place where it would all end even though they didn’t know yet.

Tag list: @the-romanian-is-bae​ @allaboutsml​ @girl22334​ @nikkipea​

Notes: well, just two chapters left. It might take me a bit to write them since they are going to be emotional and I want to do it justice. Thank you!

[thebadgerclan]

I’m Not Like My Father

Pairing: Harry Potter x Snape’s daughter reader

Requested by Anonymous

Summary: You knew your relationship couldn’t stay secret forever

A/N: This takes place in Harry’s 6th year when Snape teaches Defence, and reader is mentioned to be Slytherin, but only once, so you could be any house, I just think Snape’s kid would be Slytherin

Y/P is your patronus

Harry was very skeptical when you first asked him out, you were, after all, the daughter of Severus Snape.  Snape held a grudge against Harry, and he was certain that his daughter would do the same.  “Harry,” you’d said.  “I’m not my father.  He doesn’t like you, I won’t deny that, but I think you’re great, and I’d love it if you’d go out with me.”  He realized that your words were true, and your relationship grew from there.

Both of you knew you had to be careful not to let your father know.  Your relationship was still a secret, only your closest friends knew.  Hermione and Ron didn't even know, Ron because he hated your father, and Hermione because she’d likely blab.  So you resorted to partnering up for projects in every class you cloud, except for Defence, silently cheering Gryffindor on during quidditch matches, and catching fleeting moments together.  

It was going well, and no one seemed to notice when you’d slip away during your free periods, nowhere to be found.  You were with Harry, of course, in the Room Of Requirement.  “What did you think to get this?”  Harry laughed and kissed you.   “I need a place to be alone with my girlfriend, what else?”  It soon became routine for you and Harry to spend your free periods in the Room of Requirement, studying, napping, just being with each other.  You’d crafted the perfect plan, you thought you’d never get caught.

Of course, you did get caught, the day you were learning about Patronuses.  “Focus on a very happy, very powerful memory,” your father instructed the class.  “Let it fill you entirely before you cast.  Y/N, let’s see yours.”  Snape often used you for a demonstration, only because he knew of your talents.  You thought of the day you had your first kiss with Harry, raising your wand. “Expecto Patronum!”  As Snape expected, a silver Y/P shot from your wand, floating gracefully throughout the room.  

“Well done, 20 points to Slytherin.  Potter, you next.”  Harry thought of the same memory as you did before casting, and Snape’s jaw hit the floor.  Rather than the stag he’d seen Harry produce his 3rd year, your Patronus burst forth.  He knew what had happened, and he cursed himself for not noticing sooner.  After class, he called the two of you to his office.  “Sir?” Harry asked, nerves filling him, while you were calm and collected.  

“Care to explain why your Patronus is identical to Y/N’s?”  You shared a frightened look.  He knows. “Professor, I-”  “How long did you think you could hide this from me?  How long did you think you could keep secret that you are snogging my daughter?!”  “Dad, please!”  “No, Y/N!  Potter, give me one good reason why I shouldn’t have you expelled, I beg you.”  Harry was not frazzled, no, he seemed as if he was expecting this to happen any day now.

The words that left his mouth shocked you: “I’m not my father.”  “Excuse me?”  “I am not my father, Professor.  I’m not James.  I know he was horrid to you, but I’m not him.  I treat Y/N with nothing but respect and love, she deserves no less.”  Snape looked to you, wanting validation of Harry’s statement.  “He does, Dad, he makes me so happy.”  Snape sat down, his face in his palms.  “I would have hoped you felt you could come to me with this, Y/N,” he said, sounding tired.

“I did, I do!  But it’s just...I know how you feel about Harry, and I was worried that you’d try to separate us.”  Your father looked up, seeing the genuine concern on your face, noticing Harry holding your hand in comfort.  In a way, this was his worst nightmare come true: another Potter taking away the most important woman in his life.  But Harry was right, he is not his father and therefore deserves the benefit of the doubt.

“You’re right,” he said after a moment.  “Though you may look and sound exactly like him, you are not James.”  “S-so it’s okay that I’m with Y/N?”  Snape sighed.  “I don’t like it, but yes.”  Harry hugged you before your father cleared his throat.  “Let me be clear that when I saw this, it is as Y/N’s father, not your professor; if you hurt her, there will be hell to pay, do you understand?”  “Yes sir, of course.”  Snape smiled.  “I’m glad you’re happy.”  There was a tear sliding down your cheek that Harry wiped away.  “Thanks dad.”

[mercurryblack]

Chapter 11: Cait (Part 2)

You ever get the feeling that something just isn't right?

Good. It’s not.

❃❃❃

“Man… it’s already midnight.” Cait said, checking their Scroll. “Are we sure there’s anything here?”

The four of them stood in the atrium of the dilapidated apartment block. Cobwebs smeared each corner and laced the demolished reception desk, the carpeted floor smothered in a thick layer of dust. The wooden door lay lopsided off its hinges, and large chunks of the wall had been completely broken out, letting in a chill breeze from the outside. Aside from the flashlights that Yuen and Sardion held, only a few slivers of moonlight illuminated the room, the electric lights having ceased working long ago.

“We only just got here, kid,” Sardion said, raising an eyebrow as he fanned a piece of cobweb from his hand. “You did say you were up for this, didn’t you?”

“Well, yeah, I’d just rather not have Professor Rook bawl me out for a late paper because I went on a wild goose chase.” Cait replied, scratching their brow.

“I’m sure that won’t happen,” Hattie said. “Professor Lionheart gave us the go-ahead for this case already, so I’m pretty sure that also covers any homework due.”

She paused, thinking to herself for a second. “Wait, was that why you were acting so jittery on the airship?”

“Not exactly.” Cait said, trying to avoid Hattie’s question.

“…Wait.” Yuen, having gone on ahead of them, had stopped in her tracks and was pointing just in front of where she stood. “Look right there.”

Cait, Hattie, and Sardion looked to where she was pointing. Leading up to the stairwell were faint footprints in the coating of dust on the carpet — freshly made.

“Huh. Ask and you shall receive…” Sardion mused under his breath, drawing his weapon, a handgun with a short blade attachment he had christened Joyeuse. “You think we’re not alone, Detective?”

“I don’t know yet.” Yuen replied. “Just do as I said back outside and keep your heads up.”

A few minutes later, the four of them had made their way five stories to the top floor and reached the end of the trail— the center of an outdoor patio. The railing around the edge was unfinished and broken, and what appeared to be a shallow rooftop pool was drained and coated with moss and mold. A fog cloud that was thick as gravy had begun to ominously drift across the rooftop just as they had exited the stairwell, obscuring most of their vision.

“Hey, are there any murderers up here?!” Hattie called out, attempting to wave some of the fog away with her free hand. “Yoo-hoo, anybody home?”

The other three gave her an odd look.

“…What exactly are you doing, Hattie?” Cait asked.

“I can’t see a thing up here!” Hattie said. “Maybe if I get their attention, they’ll just come out and spare us all the trouble.”

Cait groaned. “You think that perhaps they’ll be more trouble if they put up a fight?!”

“No biggie!” Hattie said with a shrug. “Sardion’s got a gun, Agave’s got a shotgun, you have your flails that… aren’t guns, and I’m packing a submachine gun that turns into a buzzsaw.”

“Gee, I feel safer already.” Cait said.

“I know, right?!” Hattie said, missing the sarcasm in Cait’s tone. “You’ve got nothing to worry about!”

“Enough,” Yuen interjected. “Back to business… this was the only way the trail led. If anyone’s here, then this is the only place that they could be—”

“Pussycat, pussycat… where have you been?” a voice echoed from within the veil of fog.

Yuen jolted, whipping around. Hattie jumped up with a yelp.

Cait did not utter a sound, but instead immediately froze in place.

“Who’s there?!” Sardion shouted as he raised Joyeuse, its barrel pointed into the thickest part of the fog bank ahead of them.

“I spy, with my little eye, a scaredy-cat who wants to cry…” another voice crooned.

“Cait?” Hattie asked, noticing her partner’s petrified look. “Cait, what’s going on with you?” She asked urgently, shaking them slightly by the arm.

“I—I— I know that voice…” Cait whispered to Hattie, suddenly turning to face her. “We need to get out of here.” 

“What do you mean, ‘you know that voice’…?” Hattie said. “Sardion? Detective? I—”

“I’ll burn and cripple you…” the first voice echoed.

Sardion squinted, keeping his weapon levelled as he tried to see where the voices were coming from.

“I’ll slash and hack you…” sang the second voice.

Yuen took in a shaky breath, holding her shotgun steady, a bead of sweat rolling down her brow.

“I’ll rip and tear you to bloody ribbons and scatter you to the four winds…” the voices chanted in unison.

Hattie clutched Cait’s arm in a one-handed death grasp, her eyes darting wildly as she gripped her weapon - fixed in its submachine gun form - in her other hand.

A sudden gust of wind struck them head-on, and the fog parted along with it.

Just ahead of them stood two women — one in a black-and-violet suit, the other wearing what appeared to be a cloak of feathers, their metallic surfaces shimmering in the light of the shattered moon.

The suited woman gave them a smile devoid of warmth, her scarred lips parting to reveal a set of ceramic teeth. “There you are, Cait… now, be good and come over here. It’s time for you to go home.”

Cait didn’t respond.

“Who the hell are you two?” Sardion demanded, now aiming Joyeuse at the woman in the suit. “What do you want from us?”

“Oh, not that much, really,” the suited woman said. “We just want our little one back, so if you don’t put up a fight, we’ll try and make your deaths quick.” She chuckled darkly.  “As for who we are… well, I’m sure you can deliver the introductions, won’t you though, Cait?”

“…How did you find me?” Cait hissed.

“Oh, come on. Is that how you greet your big sisters?” the woman with the metal-feather cloak said. “We haven’t seen each other for… it must be three years now?”

“You’re not my sisters. You never were, Nest,” Cait snarled. “Same goes for you, Moira.”

“Wait— sisters?” a wide-eyed Hattie asked.

“You couldn’t even pretend you missed us a little bit?” Moira asked, ignoring Hattie’s question. “We’d just about given up on our efforts to find you. If you hadn’t ran off like you did, we wouldn’t even need to have this conversation.”

“Cait, who are these people?” Hattie asked again, trying to get her partner’s attention to no avail.

Nest nodded to Sardion. “If you’d stayed, you could have helped us kill his teammates… aw, what were their names again? Yuzuki and Berto?”

“Yaara… and Berilo.” Sardion uttered, momentarily stunned by the woman’s revelation.

“You— you’re the ones that killed them?” Yuen asked tentatively.

“Oh, yeah. Nothing personal,” Nest said with a shrug. “They were just a couple of loose ends, like you are now.”

The feeling of shock and shred of fear in Sardion’s heart burned away, consumed by a rapidly kindling rage. “You… fucking… animals…”

“Oh, there we go.” Moira said. “Now that we’re all acquainted, why don’t we just get this over with? We’re on the clock.”

Sardion wordlessly released the safety on his weapon with a snap, and the Lightning Dust crystal embedded in the slide’s side glowed to life.

“No, wait, don’t shoot—!” Cait shouted, but they were too late.

Sardion fired, a single shot directly at Moira’s forehead. The muzzle of Joyeuse burst with a sound like a thunderclap, a bolt of lightning encasing a single tungsten bullet as it erupted from the barrel.

The bullet was a foot away from Moira’s head when it came to a complete stop. From the point of impact, a shattering effect appeared in the air itself, as if a giant pane of glass had halted the projectile.

“Nice try,” she smirked, as the shatter marks faded and the bullet dropped to the ground.

“What the hell was that?” Sardion breathed.

“I tried to tell you!” Cait said. “Her Semblance lets her create invisible barriers— nothing can get through them, even Dust!”

“Aw, don’t ruin the surprise.” Nest said, unfolding her wings from around her. “Let the big strong champion figure it out for himself. Hope he hasn’t been resting on his laurels… I want to have some fun before we leave.”

“Doesn’t seem like you have a barrier.” Yuen said, raising her shotgun at Nest.

“Nope.” Nest said. “I got these, though.”

She flicked the tip of her left wing, and a feather-shaped blade shot out in a flash of steel, slashing deep across Yuen’s leg in the blink of an eye.

“AAGH!” Yuen cried, sprawling, her shotgun clattering out of her grip.

“Detective—!” Hattie shouted, losing her focus.

“Damn, missed.” Nest said with a laugh. ““Didn’t see that one coming, did you? You’re next, bluey.” With a shrill grind of metal against metal, she dove for Hattie, seizing her by the collar and taking flight off of the roof.

She made it all of three feet away from the roof before she suddenly was yanked to one side, her leg caught by something. Looking down, she saw the head of a flail wrapped around her ankle, Cait holding on to the other end for dear life.

“You interfering little— get off of me!” Nest yelled.

“You’re not getting away with her!” Cait yelled back.

“You great big stupid buzzard…!” With her opponent’s attention on Cait, Hattie seized the opportunity to bash Nest square in the head with the butt of her gun. “Lemme go!”

Dazed by the strike, Nest fumbled and crashed on a lower rooftop, losing her grip on Hattie, who landed in a roll. Cait landed on their side, coughing as they kicked up dirt and dust.

“Fine.” Nest spat, pulling herself up. “Hard way it is, then.”

“C’mon.” Hattie said, helping Cait to their feet. “You ready for this?”

“We don’t have a choice.” Cait replied shakily. “Just stay alive.”

***

Sardion fired several more times at Moira as she advanced on him, but each and every bullet merely stopped short of hitting her, caught by the barrier in front of her.

“Look at you, thinking you’re so heroic.” Moira spat. “Where were you on the night my sister and I were tearing apart your dear old friends, big man? Where are you going to be when my sister tears that little girl limb from limb? Why didn’t you save any of them? You were a Vytal Champion, a paragon of a Huntsman, Sardion Sarikaya… so why are your teammates dead?”

“SHUT UP!” Sardion roared, blood pounding louder in his ears as his anger grew hotter.

“What was your Semblance… superhuman futility?” Moira’s smile widened, her tongue flicking in serpentine anticipation. “Don’t you think it’s past time to join them? A little reunion would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

“SHUT UP!” Sardion fired once more at her, the bullet freezing without landing. Again, cracks appeared in the air where the bullet had struck.

“That’s starting to get really annoying.” he growled.

“Oh, how rude of me.” Moira said. “Let’s finish this up, then.”

Sardion didn’t respond, only pulling the trigger again, futilely hoping that the next shot would make its mark.

Click.

He managed a glance at his weapon— not only was he out of ammunition, but the Lightning Dust crystal had been depleted. “Damn!” he cursed.

“Oh, I know that sound… got you!” Moira exclaimed, leaping into a lunge. Her prosthetic tongue shot out of her mouth as she closed the distance to Sardion, and before he had time to properly react, it had snared around his upper arm. Polymer barbs dug into his jacket, and she landed with her shins into his torso, knocking him to the ground.

“Guh-huhff-get the hell off of me!” He made to cut her away with the short blade on Joyeuse’s underbarrel, but she lashed out and seized him by the wrists, pinning his arms down with great effort.

“Uh-uh-uh, thon’t thrath about like that.” Moira lisped, her mouth still open. “Thith ith the good th’part.” With a hiss, she activated the artificial glands in her mouth, and acid erupted from the barbs on her tongue.

The fluid burnt through both Sardion’s jacket and his Aura in a split second before sinking into his skin, making its way through his flesh and bone alike.

Sardion wasn’t sure how he responded in that moment, but he wouldn’t have blamed himself if he had recalled screaming. The pain was like a thousand red-hot needles being driven into his shoulder, worse than any other he had ever felt in his life.

“Th’ere.” Moira leered over him, her sadistic smile growing wider as she strained to hold his arms back. “Ju’th th’give up a—”

BLAM.

A heavyweight slug nailed Moira square in the back. Her Aura flared for a moment, barely stopping them from breaking her skin. With a hiss of pain, Moira tore her attention from Sardion to see who had shot her. Her grip on Sardion went slack, her tongue unraveling itself from his shoulder as it retracted back into her mouth.

“Sardion!”

Leaning down in the pool basin behind the assassin, Yuen lowered her shotgun, her other hand pressed to her leg wound. “Finish it!” she shouted over her shoulder, wincing with exertion. Blood trickled out from between her fingers.

Moira turned back just in time to see Sardion levelling his weapon directly at her head.

“Go ahead.” she sneered. “I’ve still got enough Aura to take another bullet. Call it a parting gift for effort.”

“You wanted to know *hkk* what my Semblance was?” Sardion gasped through the pain. “Whatever I’m touching… can permeate anything.”

He pulled the trigger of Joyeuse. No bullet came from the muzzle, though— instead, the barrel of the gun snapped apart and folded into a guard, and the underbarrel blade extended into one of a full longsword.

The blade itself went directly through Moira’s barrier, through her forehead and out the back of her skull.

“Unkk--!”

Letting go of his weapon’s hilt, Sardion shoved her corpse off of himself and quickly shifted away. Acid began to leak from the corner of her mouth onto the ground, frothing and hissing as it melted through the concrete.

With no small amount of effort, he craned his neck to face Moira one more time, looking into her clouded and glazed eyes, half her visage now slick with blood as it leaked from around the still-embedded sword blade.

“That was…” he growled, “for my teammates.”

***

BLAM.

“Wha—?” Nest looked over her shoulder, caught off guard by the sound of the shotgun fire. “Don’t tell me the detective’s still kicking…”

“You should know never to take your eyes off your opponent!” Hattie yelled at her assailant, firing a burst of three bullets at her.

“And you should know better than to think you’ve got a chance, lolita.” Nest taunted, raising a metal to block the girl’s spray of bullets. 

“Hattie, don’t drag this out!” Cait called, as they swung Entwined Catenary at Nest, who ducked the blow. “Come on, Nest, I’m the one that you want!”

“Don’t give up, Cait!” Hattie shouted. “We can beat her if we work together!”

“No, we can’t!” Cait shouted back. “The only reason we’ve lasted this long is because she’s just toying with us!”

“Listen to your friend there, girl.” Nest chuckled darkly, blocking another spray of bullets. “Honestly, of all the things, I would have never figured you for a Huntsman. You always gave in too easy, after all… you never stood by your own blood.”

“You’re not my blood.” Cait retorted. “And I made my choice. I’m not going back.”

Nest scoffed. “You brought this on yourself, you know. You just couldn’t do as you were told, just had to go your own way. If you’d stuck by your sisters, we could’ve really made something out of you.”

“What, turn me into a murderer like you?” Cait spat back, trying to land another strike with Entwined Catenary. “You’re insane.”

“Aw, I’m a murderer!” Nest laughed, knocking the head of Cait’s flail away with one wing. “I'm so happy you’ve been paying attention! I suppose now you’ll start crying when I rip apart your partner here, huh? Look how soft these “friends” of yours made you.”

“No.” Cait snarled. “There’s no way you’re hurting her.”

“Well, there’s the problem. I am gonna kill someone tonight, and it can’t be you.” Nest said. “News flash, Cait. You can go ahead and run away from your birthright as many times as you like, but it’s always gonna catch up to you. And when it does, it’ll destroy everything that’s standing in the way.”

Cait’s eyes narrowed, their Aura flickering around their hand. “Yeah, well… if I can’t outrun it, then I’ll kill it.”

Their Aura shimmered for a moment, an emerald pattern across their entire form as their eyes began to glow with an unearthly light.

“Cute. But too slow.” Nest bared her teeth, spreading her wings to their full span. “See if you can’t outrun this, either.”

Cait’s flare of Aura fizzled out the second they saw Nest’s stance.

“HATTIE, GET DOWN!” they shouted.

Just as Hattie threw herself to the ground, Nest launched into the air in a spinning fusillade of feather blades, the tips of her wings erupting as she ascended.

Part of the spray struck Cait head-on, knocking them over the edge of the roof. They hit the ground hard, feeling the wind being knocked out of them. Gasping for air and dizzy with pain, they looked up to see Hattie hop down from the roof and onto a moulded overhang, lowering herself to the ground and running over to them.

“No…” she gasped. “Cait, you have to get up, please…” Before she could help them to their feet, Nest landed a few meters away.

“Shit, don’t tell me I killed them.” Nest said, feigning concern. “You still kicking, kitty-cat?”

Cait loudly wheezed in a breath, drawing air back into their lungs.

“Phew.” Nest sighed, before turning to Hattie. “I guess it’s just you and me now.”

“Hattie…” Cait groaned. “Run…”

Every inch of her body quaking in terror, Hattie stood her ground, standing over Cait as she raised her weapon at Nest.

Nest grinned. “Good girl.” Before she could attack, though, a loud crash from the side caught all their attentions, something having fallen off the apartment’s roof above them.

“That yours, Moira?” she called out to the roof as she turned. “Don’t startle me like—” The color drained from her face as she laid eyes upon Moira’s body lying in the rubble, and she lost all interest in Cait and Hattie.

“NO!!” she screamed, her eyes wide with shock. “How… how…”

“Didn’t see that one coming… did you?” Cait coughed, repeating Nest’s words as they pulled themself onto one elbow.

“You… have no idea what you’ve… YOU’LL PAY FOR THIS!” Nest screamed once more, clutching Moira’s body close as she once again took flight— this time, however, away from the two students and the apartment.

“That’s right, you PUSSY! RUN!” Cait shouted after Nest as she fled, their voice nearly cracking with strain as her silhouette disappeared into the night sky. “AND YOU CAN TELL DAD I’M NEVER GOING BACK, EVER!” They tried to rise to their feet but fell to their knees, the rush of adrenaline fading to be replaced by exhaustion.

“Cait…” Hattie said, kneeling down beside them. “Y- you’re— you’re bleeding!”

Cait winced as she laid a hand on their shoulder. Several of the wing-blades had penetrated their Aura and resulted in shallow cuts, while the fall they had taken felt like it had broken a couple of their ribs.

“Yeah, I’m kinda feeling it now.” they said half-jokingly. “I’ll live, though.”

Hattie didn’t respond.

“Hattie…?” Looking up, Cait noticed that tears were beginning to stream through the grime on her face. “Hey, hey… why’re you crying?”

“I should’ve been able to protect you, Cait.” Hattie choked, her voice weakened. “I told you not to worry, but… I couldn’t do anything against her.”

Cait shook their head. “No. Don’t blame yourself, Hattie, you could have been— she was going to kill you. You should have run… why didn’t you?”

“I wasn’t going to leave you behind.” Hattie sniffled, wiping her eyes with the back of her glove. “You’re my partner. And you’re still hurt.”

“I’m gonna be fine, it’s nothing too bad,” Cait reassured her, placing a hand on her back. “I just hope the guys upstairs are better off. I don’t want to have to be the one who’s gotta fly the sailship out of this dump.”

***

“Well… I guess *h-huuuhh* that’s a lead after all…” Sardion murmured to himself, his voice thready and weak.

Gingerly clutching her leg, Yuen poked her head over the rim of the empty pool, where the two had taken emergency cover from Nest. “Hey, Sardion, stay awake. Stay with me, I can still get you help.” she said, her tone hurried with concern. “There’s a med kit on the ship, we just need to make it that far. I’ll get the kids, just stay here—”

“Ahh… *huuuhh*… it’s nothing. Hurts pretty bad… but worst comes to worst… *nnnuuuhh*… I’ll just have to learn to make do with ol’ righty… heh.” Sardion replied, managing a pained grin.

“This isn’t the time to joke.” Yuen said urgently, removing her jacket before tearing it into a makeshift tourniquet. “That arm’s barely attached, and you’re bleeding like a stuck Boarbatusk. You need serious medical attention, and fast.”

“Well, you did say… *huuuhh*… I should stay optimistic.” Sardion said. “And here I am… being optimistic.”

[bubblyani]

Valuable Witness

(Lucifer Morningstar x Reader)

A Lucifer Morningstar One Shot

Request: Could I possibly ask you for another imagine where Lucifer embarrasses the professor, takes reader out of a class, and well smut •o• - @kittenlittle24

Rating: Mature

Author’s Note: I gotta say I love writing for Lucifer. This request ended up being really fun as others always were. Enjoy!

“University? He works at a University?” Lucifer Morningstar’s inquiry was a loud one. He sounded quite offended. And that did not fail to attract looks of confusion from all those who passed by.

Rolling her eyes, Detective Chloe Decker drew in a deep breath.

“Yeah, according to the bunch of witnesses from the precinct” she answered. The dynamic duo stood before the gates of one well-known university in LA. An interestingly gruesome case had fallen on to their laps, and there they were following leads.

“Huh...” He said, amidst a many thoughts. Chloe watched the expression of her partner’s face transition from confusion, to sudden realization, and finally to pure satisfaction. “What an unexpected surprise indeed” 

Typically, the sight of carefree youth roaming about in their liberty, would excite the Civilian Consultant/Club Owner. But today, he seemed more quiet, more to himself. Even when they walked into the university premises. A silent Lucifer was nothing usual.

“You okay?” Decker could not believe she even had to ask him that. Scrolling through his phone, Lucifer looked up. “Me? I’m splendid” He said. Looking back, he stared at it a few more seconds, only to changed his mind, putting it back in his pocket. Nodding, Decker tried her best to contain her smile of disbelief. 

“You know...” she began, “Ella and I were talking earlier. And we realized how we still haven’t met your girlfriend yet” she said.

“Ah...” the partner flashed a grin, “...all in good time, Detective” he said. Chloe scoffed, shaking her head. “Right” she said. “What?” Lucifer asked, looking surprised. Opening her mouth, Decker paused. “No...it’s just that...” she began, “ I’d rather believe that you slept with a hundred women this morning alone, than to accept the fact you actually got yourself....a girlfriend!”

“Detective, How dare you?” Lucifer halted, as Decker walked away.

“It’s just not plausible” 

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

“Ms. Platt...we have witnesses claiming Whitlock was last seen here. Would you mind if we ask some questions about that?”

“ I don’t know who even made these claims..” said Melissa Platt, the supposed head of administration of the University, “...but I can assure you we are not harboring any criminals here”

“I can understand your concern” Decker nodded with understanding, “But we would like to question some of the students-Lucifer...where are you going?”

Lucifer halted, turning to find the Detective and Platt staring at him while he attempted to exit the office.

“Sorry...but Nature Calls... “ he said, “Where is the little boys room by the way?” He asked the woman.

“All the way down to your left”

“Wonderful. Thank you” he clapped with relief, “Don’t wait up Detective” he said, leaving Decker to roll her eyes once again. 

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

You did not regret going to University this late in age, even if it meant taking classes on a part time basis. It would never hurt to increase your work value with a bit more qualifications. All that you agreed to.

Yet, taking a one of those classes that was both compulsory and repulsive certainly screamed “a waste of time” . Scribbling down on your notepad, you sighed. The Professor’s manner of teaching bored you so much, you did not know what exactly to write down. Except “THIS SUCKS”. 

Ding! And just like that, you felt the phone make it’s presence known. Grabbing it instantly, you sneaked a peek. 

Hello gorgeous!

You smiled. It was him. Your boyfriend. Though your heart was lifted in an instant, you were also confused. 

You rarely text during work. Are you in trouble?  You wrote before you hit send.   Ding!

Oh no, I’m quite alright. He answered. 

Yeah right, you thought.

Ding! Before things got out of hand, You quickly turned the phone to vibrate mode.

Just wondering...which classroom are you in now? 

You raised your eyebrows, mind filled with questions.  

????  Now I’m really worried. Do you need help with something?

The buzz on the table signaled his reply. 

Oh, come on! Do tell!

Chuckling silently, you began to type in secret.

206...but seriously...what’s going on? 

Your finger almost hit ‘Send’, but the burst of the lecture hall door made you jump in your chair. Along with the others   “EXCUSE ME ..Excuse Me...Ah! So sorry for the intrusion...”

Your jaw dropped. It was no wonder the voice sounded familiar. For it was him, your boyfriend.

Lecture Hall 206 grew noisy within seconds thanks to 50 odd curious students. Taking confident strides through the crowd, Lucifer’s eyes quickly caught yours, eyeing you like a hawk. Hence you blushing with intensity with no hesitation.

“Omg...who is that? He is one fine piece” the young woman seated next to you whispered.

“Uh huh...” you muttered as if was your first time. Yet your lips slowly formed a smile. He was a fine piece. And you were proud of that. Not to mention a little heat building up on the inside.

“What’s on earth is going on?” The professor stepped forward from the Podium, “We have a lecture in session!”

“My Apologies Professor...Lucifer Morningstar, Civilian Consultant for the LAPD” Lucifer said, “We are here on an important investigation regarding a gruesome crime,  and Me and my associate believe there might be a Valuable Witness here that needs to be questioned...You there!” He said, pointing his finger forward.

Eyes widened, you quickly felt the entire attention of the room fall on you.

“M-me?” You stuttered. “Yes dear” He replied, as he began to walk over to you, “I’m afraid you’ll  have to come with me...” he said with a bit of authority, “...come on!” Although that last bit quickly turned playful.

“Lucky ...” your classmate shot you an envious look. Excitedly, you gathered your things together, stuffing them down your bag. 

“Wait! You can’t take her out like that!” The Professor barked at the two of you. “Well... I’m afraid these students are not children...” Lucifer loudly addressed him with a tone that may have hinted annoyance.

“Yes, but they are in my class! That’s it! I’m calling Security ” the man cried, reaching for the desk phone. Gripping on to your bag, you wondered whether complying to your boyfriend’s offer was a mistake.

“Alright..” Sighing, Lucifer walked down,”I didn’t really want to do this to you in front of everyone but...” hands dug deep in his pockets when he stood before the Professor.

“Tell me....Professor, What does a man like you truly desire?”

He inquired. His gaze allowed him to witness the eyes of the fuming man change. Finally hypnotized, he did not even fight with temptation.

“Bondage”

He blurted.

The moment that escaped his lips, gasps of shock filled the room instead of curious buzz. “Oh my!” Lucifer smiled naughtily. Coming to realization, the Professor covered his mouth with embarrassment, “Oh no!”

“Oh yes...I guess your true desires just sprung out of your control, Hmm? But in front of your students? Oh dear...” Leaving the Professor to deal with his embarrassment, Lucifer made his exit, not forgetting to take you with him. 

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

“Luci...” you whispered, “Where are we going?”

“Somewhere with a bit more privacy...”Lucifer replied nonchalantly, as you both made your way through the empty hallway, “Ah! here! Lovely”

And in an instant, you found yourself inside a Janitorial broom closet with your boyfriend, where you were finally able to let your reactions loose.

“Oh man...” you laughed as he locked the door, “I just can’t believe you did that! ” You said, with your hands on your waist.

“Well I hope you’re not upset” Lucifer said, slight concern in his voice that appeared out of nowhere. You scoffed.

“You kidding me? I hated that class. So that was really fun” you said, “But seriously,  what are you doing here?”

“Well, one case actually....”

“A case?” You asked, “But still you stormed your way in here to find me. Why?”

“Well...since this was your supposed University...I wanted to say Hi...”

Folding your arms, you raised your eyebrows with a suspicious smile. Unable to bluff, he sighed. “...and it’s possible that I missed you” he admitted, opening the wound that he tried so hard to close “It’s been too long since I last saw you”

You swore you heard hurt deposited in his voice. Which was quite rare for Lucifer. But not so rare for those who knew him well enough.

“Awww babe...” you began, “I’m sorry” you said, holding his hand with a sigh. “Things got a bit hectic with school and uh...didn’t really have time to stop by LUX” you said sadly, “...but come on! I bet it must not have been so bad huh? I mean it’s LUX” you said, reminded of the glamor and the abundance of the beautiful women that lingered there. Surely he was not serious.

“I just crashed your lecture, embarrassed your professor and brought you into a broom closet. How bad do you think it is?” Lucifer said, looking squarely in to your eyes. You nodded in acknowledgment.

“Point made”you said, “Which again, was incredible by the way”

“Well... I guess you can call it the Lucifer Boyfriend Experience” he said proudly with a smile. You gasped mockingly.

“Oh...I should be so lucky” you teased.

“You should be ...” he purred, taking a step closer to you “...you’re with me”

“Oh you-”

Your sarcastic response was more or less interrupted, as his hungry lips crashed into yours. It was evident that Lucifer wanted to kiss you. And you weren’t going to reject that need. Not after this long. Lovers reunited, bodies were pressed together, and hands busier than ever before.

“So...” you breathed, as his lips traveled down to your neck , “When you said you missed me, did that include fooling around in a broom closet?”

“Given the circumstances...” he replied, pushing the neckline of your turtle neck top down,”..taking you home would just be long and torturous..Ah! Why won’t this stay down?”  He snapped for your top got in the way of his kisses to your impatient neck.

“If you must know, I came here to study.  Not to-” you weren’t so lucky to finish sentences today, not especially when he shushed you with his kiss once again.

“Well then...I wonder how will you dress if I were to visit often...” he asked, lips brushing against yours. “Probably something that you can tear off easy ...” you replied with a hint of sass, to which he kissed you back with a growl.

Unwilling to watch him suffer, you quickly stretched upwards in order to take off your turtle neck top. Evil victorious laughter filled your ears when you threw it away, causing him to attack your neck. With his grip on your waist like iron, your eyes fluttered with ecstasy as his lips roamed about the sensitive spots that made home on the crook of your neck, collarbones and exposed cleavage.

Moaning softly, you threw your head back. “Oh I missed you wanting me this much” you said, with his fingers strategically unhooking your bra.

“And I missed you...” he growled, biting your lower lip softly. You groaned in frustration.

“Uh...pants off please” you purred, hunching forward enough to take the bra off you.

“Oh...Polite as always...” Lucifer cried with glee, his kisses making rough contact with you while he leaned in, unbuckling his pants. 

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

The idea of straddling your lover who ‘claimed’ to be the devil, always aroused you.  Hence it was your favorite position.

Settled on the small table firmly, his hands cooled your bare back as he held you. Holding you tightly while you moved up and down, with him inside you. The key fitted in perfectly, every second that you took him felt complete. And you were reminded of it. You realized how much you missed it. Curse busy schedules, you could not believe you spent so much time away from this. You could not believe how long you managed to survive without his eyes constantly washed all over you this way.

“Lucifer” you breathed, “I’m almos-“

“Right there with you darling-ah!” Muffled cries filled with frustration were shared by both of you, as you felt him finally reach his peak, filling you up with his release. Biting softly into his shoulder, your cries grew softer until they were barely audible. To which he responded by breathing on to your neck, making your skin feel hot.

Panting heavily, you pulled away to take a good look at your lover. “Well...” you began, feeling him press his nose against your chest, “Didn’t think ‘keeping it down’ would be this difficult” you said to the distracted man, who seemed to be greatly occupied with showering the curves of your breasts with his kisses. Humming with relish, you felt him indulge you; as his lips took the chance to speak it’s mind to the bosom that teased him so earlier. As you ran your fingers through his hair, you swore you felt his kisses specially utter how much he missed them.

“Thank you...by the way,” you said, softly, urging him to look at you “I promise I’ll be the loud as you want at your place” you said, biting the side of your lower lip. A surprising laugh exited you the moment his face lit up in an instant. “Oh...I’m liking this promise” he said. Chuckling together, you both kissed in agreement, clearly equally happy with this reunion.

The closet door flew open with a loud noise, forcing you to yelp. Holding you tightly, Lucifer turned his head to find a shocked Chloe Decker standing there fully armed.

“Lucifer!” She cried, putting the gun down. Turning to fully face her, Lucifer stood proudly revealing lipstick marks all over his bare chest and opened shirt, skillfully keeping you modest while you hid behind him in just your skirt and nothing else.

“Ah Detective...” Lucifer said “I’m afraid Tinkle time turned a bit elastic”

“Detective?” Your eyes peeped over his shoulder”Oh shit” you groaned, curling up behind him.

“What?” He turned back confusingly, “What’s the matter?”

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

“And this...is Detective Chloe Decker” Lucifer said, gesturing to his partner, to whom you extended your hand without hesitation. It was trying to hide your embarrassment, after stepping out of the closet, finally dressed and decent. But introductions were due anyways.

“It is so nice to finally meet you Detective ” you said, with eyes twinkling “But I’m really sorry..this was definitely not the way I wanted us to meet for the first time ”

“Well it’s Lucifer so...I’m not surprised” Chloe replied with a reassuring smile, as if she could sense your sincerity and the guilt that was hidden in your voice.

 “True...” you chuckled along with her, “..talk about dramatic huh?” You said, pointing at the closet behind you.

“Ladies... “ Lucifer said, as he cleared his throat, “Really ...how dare you?”

——————————————————

Check My LUCIFER MASTERLIST here :)

[anneshirleycuffbert]

flower crowns and kisses

“Are you almost finished?” Gilbert asked, extending his hands in hopes of holding either of Anne’s.

“Just hold still, will you?” Anne slapped them away. “And no peeking!”

Gilbert threw his hands up in surrender, laughing with a tender expression that caused Anne’s breath to catch in her throat.

“Okay, sorry! My eyes have been closed for ages and I really miss looking at you.”

Anne’s cheeks burned bright red as she rolled her eyes and continued fumbling with the flowers she and Gilbert had picked on their walk to their favourite tree. She was thankful in that moment that Gilbert could not see the effect his innocent words had on her.

It was early evening, and they had spent the glorious summer day walking around the parts of Avonlea they missed most while at school. Gilbert and Anne were talking about their favorite professors when Gilbert pointed out a beautiful patch of flowers and Anne had the bright idea to make flower crowns.

Gilbert had no previous experience, but the excitement in Anne’s expression wiped out whatever little protest he would have made, if it was even possible he could even deny her this simple pleasure. That, and he refused to miss out on making anything a competition with Anne to rile her up, courting or not. In all honesty, he didn’t want to win nor did he expect to. Seeing Anne at work with her eyes focused and hands determined to create was a wonder and a prize in itself.

Gilbert only regretted his decision when Anne forced him to close his eyes. She didn’t want him to see how the flower crown she had made for him was much more intricate than the one he made her, if only to spare him from feeling inadequate–despite her knowing that Gilbert wasn’t the type to feel insecure about being less talented than her in any respect. Besides, Anne liked watching Gilbert when he didn’t know how closely she was looking at him.

“It’s only been five minutes,” said Anne. Gilbert had picked up the newfound softness in her voice and found her left hand and captured it between his hands. “Gil.”

“Anne,” he breathed, sitting up straight. “You’re really killing me, here. I’m dying to see you.”

Anne placed the flower crown ever so gently atop Gilbert’s head of soft curls that he didn’t notice he was wearing it.

“Anne?”

“Wait ten seconds.”

“Fine,” huffed Gilbert. “But once I finish counting down from ten, I will not deny my eyes the pleasure of gazing upon your beauty.”

Anne smiled. “Fine.”

“Ten,” Gilbert began counting immediately. “Nine.”

As the seconds passed, time slowed down for Anne in paradox.

She stared at the boy, no, the man sitting cross-legged in front of her. Her friend. Her partner. Her equal. Hers.

Gilbert Blythe had always looked ridiculously handsome. Too beautiful for his own good. However, in this scene, under their favourite Red Maple tree, wind gently blowing his dark curls to and fro and head adorned with a crown of the most delicate flowers, the most beautiful endearing smile gracing his lips, and his brows furrowed slightly in anticipation, Gilbert Blythe looked ethereal.

She had missed him terribly during the school year. Their correspondence via letters helped a great deal, but nothing could replace being physically present with the person you love.

Anne felt an overwhelming pang in her heart as she took in the wonder that was her proponent to her happiness and thanked the God she believed existed for allowing her to be alive and present in this moment with the love of her life.

“One.”

Time both stopped and sped up the moment Gilbert’s soft hazel eyes opened and captured Anne’s piercing gray ones. Their chests froze and it seemed in that moment they shared one breath.

Gilbert drank in the absolute beauty that was Anne Shirley-Cuthbert. Her hair, which matched the leaves that hung from the branches, moved like a crackling fire in the cooling air. He raised his hand to tuck a strand behind her ear and shivered when he heard Anne gasp at the contact of his thumb delicately brushing her jaw.

Their eyes travelled down to the other’s lips which broke out into a mutual smile that told of friendship and adoration for one another. A gust of wind unraveled the precariously-made flower crown sitting atop Anne’s head, which Gilbert had made in less precision but with an equal amount of love, if it was even possible to quantify it. The flowers of Anne’s crown tumbled and tangled out of and into her flowing strands and some petals brushed down her face like nature’s kisses.

Anne couldn’t help but laugh and close her eyes and do her best to capture this moment, this sensation in her heart and carry it with her for all eternity.

At the sound of her joy and the thought that he had everything to do with it in this moment, Gilbert felt an ache in his heart to be closer to Anne, despite the fact they were cross-legged without even an inch between them. So close, in fact, that Gilbert could find the five freckles that dusted Anne’s right cheek and resembled the shape of a heart. His heart soared at the remembrance of the day he discovered them, the day he was allowed to be so close to explore the pinprick details of the constellations on Anne’s skin.

His eyes fixated on her smile and the curve of her lips and they darkened with resolve. When Anne opened her eyes, hers fell on his with a vulnerability he never would have dreamed he’d have the honor to see. Like Miss Stacey’s magnets, the two were drawing closer to each other before they could even comprehend it.

Anne blinked, realizing Gilbert’s lips were mere centimetres from hers. She felt suspended in time, feeling the goosebumps rise from her warm skin as she felt his unsteady breath mingling with her own.

“Gil,” she muttered, enjoying the name and taste of it on her lips. “Gilbert.”

“Anne,” he whispered. “I’m going to kiss you now. If you have any objections, speak now or forever hold your peace because I’m about to lose mine.”

Anne Shirley-Cuthbert made no sound, dared not to even breathe, for fear that doing so would deprive her of the experience that is Gilbert Blythe’s kiss.

These equals in love pulled the other closer, Anne gripping Gilbert’s shirt, tugging him toward her, and Gilbert slipping his fingers behind Anne’s neck, pulling her closer.

Gilbert smiled as their lips met, his heart bursting with love and fulfillment as he tried, for the nth time, to wrap his mind around the fact that he belonged to this redhead with the most beautiful heart as much as she was his. His girl, who had stolen his heart years ago before they even knew they cared for each other. His vision, who embodied adventure and a promise of life. His Anne with an E, who spoke beauty into existence and pushed him to be the best he can, which at the moment meant kissing her with all the love in his soul.

Anne Shirley-Cuthbert felt tears threatening to spill from her eyes at the thought that she was allowed to love Gilbert Blythe and be loved by him who had seen her for who she is and chose to love her because of and despite it all. Beautiful, strong, gentle, brilliant Gilbert Blythe, who had so much love and passion for the world he barely knew what to do with it except to kiss her in this space in time. And he belonged to her. Her Gilbert, who loved the very things she loathed about herself, and helped her see the beauty in what she called her chaos. Instead of crying, Anne laughed into the kiss as the giddiness of her heart bubbled out of her beating chest.

Gilbert’s free hand found the small of her back and firmly rested itself there as Anne captured his face between her always cold hands, smiling when Gilbert shivered at her touch and grinning when she felt his pulse quicken as her fingers nestled at the tender spot right under his jaw.

Anne was almost delirious at the romance of it all. Never in her wild imagination would she have conjured up this astounding image. Kissing Gilbert Blythe under the tree he labeled his favorite because it reminded him of Anne Shirley-Cuthbert and her fiery spirit.

As they pulled away, they sighed at the loss of contact but they could not deny themselves their need for oxygen.

Chests heaving, gasping for air, cheeks flushed, lips swollen, hair disheveled. The pair took in the other’s appearance and laughed.

Anne intertwined her fingers with Gilbert’s and pulled him in for a quick peck. Concern superseded her longing to kiss him again when she felt the rapid pulse beating wildly in his hands.

“Gil? Are you alright?”

He nodded, flashing her his crooked grin and relishing the flustered demeanor of his love, and knew for certain he looked the same. Anne felt pride knowing that it was she who caused him to look so improper, his dark hair sticking out in messy waves and his cheeks bright red. Mrs. Blackmore would have a heart attack if she could see them now. She laughed, remembering the incidents where they were almost caught kissing in the parlor by Mang and the girls. But they were alone now, with only nature as their witness, so Anne took the liberty to kiss either of his cheeks, which immediately flushed a deep red. She reached up to brush her fingers through his hair in a half-hearted effort to tame the curls she adored so much. Gilbert’s expression turned serious as he watched Anne close her eyes and smile.

“Gilbert,” Anne voiced her thoughts aloud. “I know I am my own person, but being with you makes me feel so... whole.”

This illicited a smile from him. “Really?”

Anne looked at him and her cheeks darkened. “Really.”

“Well, you have quite the opposite effect on me,” Gilbert said with a shaky breath.

“Oh? Do tell,” Anne grinned, moving closer now.

“I am undone,” Gilbert confessed to the woman he loved, to the Red Maple tree, to all of Avonlea. “And you, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert,” he added, his lips brushing hers as he spoke, “are my undoing.”

[thestanceyg]

Darcyland Drabble Race the Second

So here’s my contribution to another drabble race. Again under the cut because there’s a LOT.

Quantum 1 “Oh my god,” Jane said, flopping down on to the couch next to her. “I had forgotten this show was even a thing.”

“It’s my stay home from school sick comfort show,” Darcy said as she pulled her blanket tighter around her. The chills she was experiencing were no joke.

“Man, I wonder how the creators of Quantum Leap feel now? Like…that tech kinda actually exists, even if it’s classified.”

“I don’t think they know about it Jane,” Darcy said with a fond roll of her eyes. “You know, on account of it being classified and all.”

2 “The fuck does this word mean?” her dumbass lab partner asked.

“Which word?” she asked with a put upon sigh.

“Quantum,” he said, pointing to literally the first question.

“Thor wept,” she muttered under her breath before turning to him more fully. “Here,” she said, pointing back to the textbook. “Definition’s right here. I’ll even read it to you. A discrete quantity of energy proportional in magnitude to the frequency of the radiation it represents.”

“No need to be a bitch about it.”

She idly wondered if killing him was a possibility. “Sure sure,” she said, sugary sweet. “Since I’m such a bitch, don’t worry about me helping again.”

3 “I don’t think the quantum physics work that way,” Fitz said with a tilt of his head as he looked at the projection.

“I mean, I didn’t either,” Darcy agreed, joining him, “but I also don’t doubt our modeling software. Something’s happening here that’s unexpected, and that means either we have something wrong, or there’s something we have yet to figure out that’s acting on everything.”

“You know what that means?” he said with a smile.

“More research dates,” she said before kissing the tip of his nose.

“Can’t wait,” he said before claiming her lips.

4 “Quantum Laser Tag is the best!” she yelled, highly offended. “I can’t believe you just besmirched it’s good name!”

“Err, all I said was that laser tag was kinda lame.”

“It is not!” she practically whined. “Okay, dude, maybe you’ve not had good laser tag experiences, but I have to say that does not mean you get to shit on literally the greatest arena in at least the tristate area.”

“You’re…really passionate about this,” he said giving her a look she couldn’t decipher.

“So is this your way of bowing out of our first date?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Hell no,” he said, smiling.

5 “I’m just saying, that the names at this bar are not scientifically accurate,” she complained. 

“Jane. Literally none of us give a shit. We are here to get shitfaced and giggle over our jobs being somehow alcohol themed,” Darcy reprimanded her. 

“I’m definitely having a Quantum Blast,” Helen said, sidling up to the bar.

“Really?” Darcy said giving her a disgusted look. “I mean…there’s something about adding the word ‘blast’ to it that turns me off from it.”

“Fair,” Helen agreed. “But it has triple sec in it and I’m in the mood.”

Darcy tilted her head in acknowledgment of the wisdom.

6 “I promise to never play with the quantum field again if we can just get out of this alive,” Darcy said more to herself than anyone else.

“What?” Scott asked.

“Just promising myself to try and stick to my field in the future should I survive whatever this is.” She gestured to the everything around them that really defied understanding.

Scott nodded. “I wish I could make a similar vow, but it’s kinda my field now. Though this,” he looked around a bit, “is indeed disconcerting. I could, err, try to make it up to you when we get out of here.”

“Are you asking me on a date?”

“Yes?”

7 “Nope. Not happening. I will not be teaching quantum physics as my teaching assignment next semester. It’s not my field. I would have to do my own research just to feel like I was giving the students an adequate course,” she said as soon as the department head had offered her the schedule.

“Well you don’t have a lot of options here. You’re still a candidate and not a post doc so you don’t get to argue with me really.”

“This is some serious bullshit,” Darcy groaned. “But seriously, Johnson would be way better at this. He even has done research in this field.”

“Yes well…”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Darcy groaned. “You’re doing him a favor and I’m the one that has to deal with the consequences?”

Nebula 1 “And if you look here,” the professor droned on as he used his laser pointer, “you can see a nebula that is starting to die.”

“Kinda like me in this class,” she muttered under her breath. The guy next to her laughed, but covered it with a cough. She looked at him and winked, and he honest to Thor blushed. Well damn if that wasn’t the cutest thing that she’d ever seen.

She grabbed a scrap of paper and wrote her name on it and slid it over to him.

He read it and smiled a bit and wrote back.

Fitz. Nice name. She couldn’t wait to be screaming it later.

2 Nebula was very murderous and Darcy kinda loved her for it. It seemed like there was a lot of deep seated anger that the woman was ready and willing to take out on anyone and everyone. You had to love her unapologetic rage. Darcy couldn’t help but admire how she didn’t give a shit if someone thought it made her less attractive because anyone dumb enough to voice that sentiment would probably end up with a knife in them. Was it wrong that she was a little turned on?

That thought made her come up short.

Shit. She didn’t have time for a crush.

3 The fabric technically had nebulas all over it, though the fabric name had the word galaxy. In the grand scheme of things it really didn’t matter, but it annoyed her for some reason. It seemed that all sorts of little things were bothering her lately, and she couldn’t find the reason. Why should she care that she had “galaxy fabric” that was actually nebula fabric? She would make the damn pillow covers and then she could tell her friends it was nebula print. Giving up caffeine had been a bad idea. It made her crabby. She should probably reconsider her idea to stop drinking coffee.

4 Nebula Swirl was possibly the best flavor of ice cream she had ever eaten, and it was looking like she would only be able to eat it for one more month if something drastic didn’t happen. She took her cone and snapped a picture and posted it to Instagram with the tag SaveGalacticCones. Maybe someone would see it and drop some cash their way. It wasn’t their fault that the freak storm had damaged the property and left them paying off heavy repair bills. They deserved to thrive, if for no other reason than it was the ice cream of her youth and she had so little to remember her childhood by.

5 “I don’t research in the Horseshoe Nebula,” she said with a frustrated sigh. “In fact, I don’t even look within a million light years of there. So please explain to me in very small words why you think your project should get any of my grant money.”

“Because I need to fund my research Dr. Witherow said. “It’s as simple as that. I need more funding and you just won a lot of money. There’s no way you’ll need all of it, so umbrella my study under your project and we’ll both win.”

“No, dude, we won’t ‘both win.’ That grant is actually just one of three for my project because it doesn’t cover everything.” Thor save her from entitled scientists.

6 “It looks kind a like a nebula” Jane said as she looked at the giant bruise on Darcy’s hip.

“I guess that’s fitting because the pain is out of this world,” Darcy tried to joke. It didn’t quite come off as carefree as she had hoped, but that was possibly because she was an hour out from her next pain pill and the current one seemed to have mostly worn off.

“Darce,” Jane said with a bit of warning in her voice. “You’re going to let me coddle you because that’s what I need. I think you do too.”

Darcy sighed. “I know.”

7 A burst of nebula like light flashed before her eyes as the hit landed.

She didn’t pass out, but it was a near thing.

“You will do what we want, Dr. Lewis!” the man spit at her.

“No. I won’t,” she argued. “And you hit like a little kid.”

The man’s face turned a red she didn’t realize was possible before he backhanded her, hitting the already blooming bruise from the earlier punch. “I think you will change your mind.”

“I’d rather die.”

“That can be arranged,” he sneered.

“I doubt it,” she countered. “You need me too much. And if you keep hitting my head, it’ll be that much longer before I’m even capable of doing what you ask.”

Vortex 1 Of course it was a solar vortex. Or, at least that’s what she was calling this abomination in her mind. She wasn’t sure what else to call what appeared to be a tornado of sunlight that was leaving a path of fire and destruction behind it. Why couldn’t normal things happen to her?

She would have to blame Jane. Shit like this never happened to her before New Mexico.

Of course, it could also be that this kind of madness would still happen to her even if she had never been an intern, but blaming Jane felt familiar. That woman definitely owed her ice cream for changing her life like this.

2 “It’s not a vortex” Dr. Strange said, the pinched look on his face clearly telling him what he thought of Darcy and her inability to call it whatever name he had given his portal thingy. She knew it wasn’t a vortex. It was just fun to razz him and see him get annoyed.

He was kinda cute when he was annoyed.

Well, he was kinda cute regardless, but his cuteness was focused on her whenever he was annoyed because 99% of the time it was her fault.

It wasn’t healthy, but it was working so she’d deal with the mental health implications later.

3 “I promise you that’s not a tornado,” she said to her storm chasing boyfriend. “I know it looks like one, but, very unfortunately for the entire town of Lawton, it’s actually an anomaly called a temporal vortex.”

“What does that mean, Darcy?” he yelled over the roar of the storm.

“It means that if we don’t get out of the path of that thing we’ll end up in an alternate reality that may or may not include a breathable atmosphere.”

“Right,” he said, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. “I’d like to live to have another date so one storm evasion coming up.”

4 “It’s called The Vortex,” Helen said reverently as she placed what Darcy thought was a fishbowl on the table. It had six straws sticking out of it.

“Why?” Pepper asked, looking at the drink cautiously.

Helen shrugged. “Does it matter? What matters is it tastes like sunshine and amaretto and goes down easy and will get you shitfaced if that’s what you want.”

Jane grabbed a straw and took a long slurp. “I need to get shitfaced and Helen isn’t wrong. I don’t care what’s in the Vortex. It can be made of baby souls and I will keep drinking it. It’s a fucking delight in my mouth.”

5 “I am sick of the Polar Vortex and it’s technically only been here for three hours,” Darcy said as she cuddled more into the blankets and tried to burrow even further into the warmth of her boyfriend.

“I’m not exactly excited about it either,” he agreed, “but at least it means we have guaranteed time together. That’s been a rare occurrence lately.”

Darcy nodded and debated it it was worth getting her arm out of the blanket to grab her hot chocolate.

“Darce?” he asked.

She turned to look at him. His eyes were soft. “I love you.”

Her breath stopped. He hadn’t said that before. Maybe the Polar Vortex wasn’t that bad.

6 “Sedona is weird,” Spencer said with a frown.

“Are you talking about the vortices?” she asked.

“I am,” he said, studying the map they had been given at the little tourism station. “I just. I can’t believe people believe in this stuff.”

“Ehh,” she said. “There’s a lot of shit I wouldn’t have believed in before it happened to me. You know, like Asgardians and such.”

“Maybe,” he agreed with pursed lips.

She pointed to a spot on the map. “Look, that one’s on a trail. We said we were going to do some hiking, so we’ll go there and treat it scientifically.”

He perked up just like she knew he would. “Sounds like a plan,” he said with a kiss to her cheek.

7 “I am a vortex of emotion,” she said before throwing herself on the couch.

Pepper handed her a glass of white wine. “What happened today?”

“He’s just so cute,” she practically whined. “And he has no idea that literally every time I’m talking to him I’m trying to flirt. I swear I used to be good at it.”

“Perhaps Bruce is ignoring it?”

Darcy shook her head. “I don’t think so, but I also hate that idea. Please don’t ever say that again. How can I live if he doesn’t like me back?”

“Do I just attract drama queens, or is there something special about you and Tony?”

Darcy gasped. “How dare you think I’m not special. You take that back!”

Supernova 1 “Why are you listening to Oasis on repeat?” Jane asked as she walked into Darcy’s apartment.

“Not Oasis,” Helen corrected, “Champagne Supernova.”

“Oh, Darcy. No hon.” Jane threw her purse on a chair and went to the kitchen and started going through the freezer. “Okay, here’s the plan,” she said as she came back into the living room. “I am going to make us some very alcoholic fruit slushies, you are going to move on from Oasis to some 90s Alanis, and then you are going to tell us what happened.”

Jane disappeared back into the kitchen and Helen looked at Darcy.

“And then we plot revenge,” she added.

2 “I promise you there was never a Gusher flavor called Supernova Blast. That wasn’t a thing. You need to stop trying to convince me it was. I might be dumb, but I am not that gullible.”

“Aww, babe! Who said you were dumb! I’ll be happy to knock some sense into them.

“Darce, that’s not the point,” Peter said with a whine. “The point is you cannot make me believe it.”

Darcy turned her laptop to show him the Google Image search with Supernova Blast gushers.

“Your reality is so flippin’ weird,” he said as he stared at the screen.

3 “It’s, like, more than a nova. It’s a SUPER nova.”

Darcy just stared at the man in front of her. This was the last time she allowed Clint to set her up on a blind date.

“Riiight,” she said. “Ummm, I’m sorry, but I need to go to the bathroom. Be right back,” she said as she grabbed her purse and praised the heavens that she hadn’t brought a coat too.

She grabbed a waitress as soon as she was out of his line of sight. “Hi, I need to escape a bad date and I will pay you $40 to let me out a back door.”

The waitress grabbed the money. “Done.”

4 “And next up is Supernova!” the announcer roared. Darce waved to the crowd as her name was called. She hadn’t expected to love roller derby as much as she did, but it truly was a life saver. The team was amazing, it allowed for stress relief, and it was something that was just hers. No being in Jane’s academic shadow. No being in her brother’s professional musician shadow. No shadows. Just Darcy.

As they set up for the first jam she looked up to the crowd and saw some signs with her name on them. She had never felt more alive.

5 “Excuse me?” the man at the counter said, “Are you really telling me that you’ve never heard of the Supernovas?”

Darcy gritted her teeth. “Honestly, dude, it doesn’t matter if I have or not. What I asked was whether or not you had any Aquabats.”

“But I can’t let you listen to that when you could be listening to the Supernovas.”

“I think you are missing what exactly your role is here. I came here looking specifically for a present for my brother, and I came to you to help me with it. In exchange, you should be telling me whether or not you have it, not making me want to leave because you won’t stop forcing your terrible bands on me.”

He stared at her in annoyance.

6 She imagined that this was what it must feel like at the center of a supernova. She had never felt so warm and alive and bursting. His simple confession wasn’t something she had ever expected, but it knocked the ice off her heart and had made her realize that she loved him too. She loved him in a consuming way that she hoped would eventually burn down to warm contentment and not eat them alive, but she couldn’t deny that his love had changed her and she could never go back to not knowing how this felt.

7 “You can’t use the supernova attack in this setting!” Steve said.

“I don't’ see why,” Darcy argued. “What’s stopping me?”

“Because that’s not how it’s supposed to be used.”

Darcy made a tsking noise at him. “Stevey, you can’t say that you want to follow the spirit of things here. You knew I was the type of person to always argue I was technically inside of the rules to do crazy shit when you asked me to join your game. So you either let me cast this or you kill me so I can go play with people that enjoy my unorthodox approach.”

“Fine,” he sighed. “Roll please.”

[sherlockfanficwriting]

Sherlock BBC Mycroft                                        “Her Love”

Summary - Mycroft and you have always competed with one another since as early as university; you hated each other, but only on the outside. Life moved on as everyone separated into their own lives and jobs, but one particular day you meet him again. After a certain set of events, you end up rescuing him, and what happens after that is untold. 

Warnings - none, not sure

A/N - hola! second story from a break hope everyone is healthy and happy and chilling. Make sure to eat well, workout, and relax :) its literally summer! But anyways enjoy this story and send me some more requests as i am getting through them. (this one was a request and i loved it sm)

Years ago in University

You enter the Criminal Justice classroom and sit near the bottom of the high set of seats. You adjust yourself into a comfortable position and pull your books out. You hadn’t even opened one of them yet. You didn’t need to. After a handful of students walked in, the professor does too. 

“Good morning. How is everybody today?” The professor asked. He swiftly pulled out his papers and began scribbling on the board. The students mumbled a polite answer. You turned your head to the side and met the devilish grazing eyes of Mycroft Holmes. He eyed you suspiciously and you returned it, but quickly darted his eyes back to the front after a second of contact. You smiled and shook your head. He thought he was better than you, but he wasn’t, and he knew it. Even if he didn’t, you would constantly make him know. 

“Okay, a little different approach here today, class. You all recall that last case study we were working on, I assume? We touched up on it a few days ago. Refresh yourselves quickly on the complexity of the case. It continues today. I will be discussing and asking all of you questions. Remember, you’re the top of the top here.” 

You narrowly turned your head to glance at Mycroft. His attention was focused on the professor. He didn’t blink. 

“What was the intent of the murder?” The professor asked. 

“Maternal revenge,” you spat out, barely after the question was out of his mouth. The professor nodded at you and continued on. The class was a breeze. 

“What was the initial thought of the victim walking in the room?” 

“To arm himself yet not be disguised. He wanted to hide but only wished to in his mind. He chose to ponder about slowly to his demise,” Mycroft rapidly spoke. 

You rolled your eyes. After a dozen more questions that rotated between you and Mycroft, the class was over. You abruptly stood up and walked out of the classroom near the exit of the building. You heard Mycroft walking behind you. You didn’t speak or say anything to him. He walked outside with you and finally matched up to your speed. 

“You think you’re better than me.” Mycroft said. 

You laughed. “I am.” 

“You see that’s the problem. I am superior and I will always be. Just simply stop trying.” 

“You’re going to have to try harder than that.” 

---Years Later-----

Your alarm not so peacefully woke you up from your tranquil slumber. You shifted your body closer to the side of your bed to read those bright red numbers you despised. 

6:00

You groaned, practically tripping over nonexistent items as you walked to your bathroom. You quickly brushed your teeth and pulled together your hair. Soft strands of hair rested over your shoulder. Feeling more awake, you hopped to your closet and ran your hands along the minimalist cashmere and silk clothes that you owned. You pulled out a a pair of black trousers and a cream colored blouse. You paired it with a black blazer. As you stepped infront of the long mirror in the corner of your room, your eye caught the morning sun’s reflection off the glass of your diplomas and recognitions. A silver heart for bravery was pinned to the wall next to glass encovered cases as well as colored ribbons signifying your criminal investigation awards. You smiled to yourself in the mirror. This was who you were. 

After applying a light wave of makeup over your features you slipped on a pair of dark heels and your purse. You skipped down the steps as if you were wearing sneakers and stepped near the curb to call for a cab. One came speeding by and you jumped in. 

“Manchester Station.” 

After a pleasant speedy drive halfway through the city of Manchester, the cab slowed down to a stop. You tipped the man and stepped out of the car, walking up to the long set of cream steps. You swiftly walked through the door, manuvering your body through the bustling people. You walked up the main steps to get to your office. As you walked down the hallway you glanced in one of the glass-walled offices. You saw one of your partners, James with a phone pressed up to his ear, lightly scribbling notes. He noticed you and offered a warm smile to which you returned. You passed a few other colleagues on your way to the office to whom you waved at. As soon as you opened your door you practically collapsed. As much as you loved being a detective, being in the office for a mere hour was enough to kill you. Being on the streets and in the action was what provided you with the vigor and stamina to which you live your life now. Picking yourself back up, you went over to your coffee machine and started a cup. A few seconds later, you heard a knock at your door accompanied with the sound of the door swinging open. You turned your head to see Paul and Lauren, another close colleague, standing there. 

“Deduce me!” They both shouted, giggling. This wasn’t a new thing. Multiple times a day they would ask you this. It felt good. You were born like this. You could tell them a thousand things they would never think twice about. You picked up your coffee and locked eyes with Paul. Your eyes moved down and up and left and right, absorbing and understanding his movements and attire and his face. The face told a lot. 

“You didn’t eat today. You were wearing a dark shirt but promptly changed it after a minute. You recently talked to your family; they are warm and welcome which is new and refreshing for you.” 

Paul scoffed. “Amazes me everytime.”

“My turn!” Lauren exclaimed.

You proceeded to look at her, but Lewis, the “head man” of your department suddenly walked in the door. His face was tense and his actions followed along. Your body stiffened and you were alert. 

“We’re going to London. Now.” He said, promptly rushing away. You swigged your coffee and walked out of the doorway. Paul and Lauren jogged to their offices. You caught Lewis running down the hallway. Something was wrong. Something was going on. You ran after him. 

“Lewis, when are we leaving? Why are we going to London?” You asked. 

He stopped momentarily and caught his breath. “Important case. The govenment. We’re leaving now. We’ll take my car. Paul will drive with Lauren. We need to go now. It’s at least a 4 hour drive.” He grabbed your arm lightly and you ran off with him. 

“Why do they ask for us?”

Lewis chuckled. “For you mainly. Like I said, hard case, but not a challenging one. One that requires only the intelligent.” 

You couldn’t believe it. You ran down the steps and hopped into the shotgun seat of Lewis’s car. He ran inside and ignited the key, promptly speeding away. Thoughts rushed through your head quickly. You’ve only been in England for a few years yet you have never been to London. Why, you ask? You didn’t have the slightest clue. 

Lewis sped at least ten miles above the speed limit on the highway, causing your heart to race out of excitement. You could just taste it. 

“Did you get any case background?” You asked. 

Lewis shook his head. “It’s highly contained. From my time here, I’m only guessing its something technological.” 

“Linked with something physical.” You said. 

He nodded. “You’ll do it. You’re the best we have. The best anyone would have.” 

You smiled at him. You weren’t nervous, you were ready. It was about time. 

3 hours later from excessive speeding 

Lewis’s car stopped in front of an immensely tall building covered with blue glass windows. You had no idea what this was. Secret Service? Most likely. 

You walked with Lewis to the front door and met a plethora of guards. You both showed your badges and after a few phone calls made from the guards and nodds of respect, you walked inside. The inside was captivating. Everything was modernized and the surfaces reflective. Tall, powerful figures moved about. Lewis and you walked up the main steps.

“They’re meeting us on the second floor. I wouldn’t be so sure where.” He said, turning left and right. 

You knew where from looking at the room. “In here. Should we wait?” 

“No need to.” A stern voice said from behind you and Lewis. You turned your head and gazed up to a young tall man. His eyes were tired but his spirit was strong. He was a lower tier colleague of almost no status.

“It’s over here,” he said, leading you to the next hallway over. The flooring plan suddenly changed and led up to an even larger glass room full of guards on each corner of the premicise. The man walked up to the door and opened it for you and Lewis. You walked inside, eyeing every single thing you could. You saw four men and an older woman standing near the window, holding papers and chattering visciously. 

The man who just led you in coughed and everyone turned around. A short man burst out from the group and said, “We’ve been expecting you. We apologize for the short notice. I’m sure you understand the gravity of the situation.” 

“We understand. We know you couldn’t provide the information over phone. Everything is as planned.” Lewis said. 

The man looked worried and nodded to him. He turned his attention to you. When he did so, his face untensed and his eyes relaxed. He held out his hand to you. 

“You, Miss, we’ve heard nothing but good.”

You shook his hand and he quickly cut loose from the courtesy. 

“We must get to the case. Please, sit down.” He motioned. The four other people sat around the table and you sat next to Lewis on one side. The head of the table was missing. The chair, idle. You wondered who sat there. 

“There’s professional hacking done. Televisions abruptly stopping and transferring to messages. Murders....with......banks......robbing......aquiesced with no hesitation.........killers............terrorists...”

You zoned in and out of the words being spoken. You had the whole concept down in about two minutes. The rest wasn’t vital information for you. 

The short man faced you. “We need you to crack codes and primarily investigate a mansion in the countryside. He worked for the govenrment, he was up here. Killed. I’m sure it will take you time to understand why and how he was murdered, but you have time.” 

You tried not to scoff. You could get it done without even being there. They underestimate you. 

“(Y/N), is good at this. She’s a star in computer programming. Give her any computer, she’ll have all the codes and passwords lied out for you in minutes.” Lewis said. 

“I understand that. However actions are key here. There was a reason we called you. Lewis, you’ll stick with our management and analysis now. I see you have two other detectives, they can branch out to the banks and such with our other teams.” 

Suddenly the large glass doors swung open. You didn’t turn around to look, but you knew it was the head of the table, whoever that was.” 

“Sir, I ran through the prerequisites and plan with them. We start today with this team.” The man said. You looked down at your legs and across to the window, endlessly bored. 

“Yes, you told me who you would bring. A girl? You insisted she was....good? I didn’t get a chance to read over the folder.” 

That voice sounded familiar

“Why, yes, Mr. Holmes, she’s right here. (Y/N).” 

Your heart dropped. You knew that name. You whipped your head to the head of the table and met the surprised eyes of Mycroft Holmes. You locked eyes, trying to understand. 

“Mr. Holmes, (Y/N), is everything....?” The man asked. 

“Everything is well, Thomas. I personally knew (Y/N) a handful of years ago. University.” He said. 

You smiled and nodded your head. 

“Right, now, we must all leave now. I have teams on numerous locations already.” He said, abruptly standing up. Everyone else rushed up and followed him out of the door. You couldn’t believe he was here. The head of this. The mastermind. You almost forgot about him, but you never forget intelligence. 

You rushed out of the room to find him walking down the hall with two others. One was frantically talking into the phone. You walked up to Mycroft’s side. 

“Where am I going?” You asked. 

“With us. Helicopter pad is a floor up.” 

You smirked, reading him and his actions. “You remember me?” You asked, looking up at him. He looked down at you and for a moment you knew he wanted to “intelligently insult” you, as both of you did in university before, but he smiled at you. 

“Only the smartest I recall. You’re with us now. This will be a challenge for you.” He said. You skipped up the steps to the roof with him. 

“I’ll be okay.” You said. 

Mycroft stepped aside for you to enter the helicopter. He sat next to you and fixed his head gear. You placed your headsets on and Mycroft gave a signal for the pilots to go. You’ve only been inside a helicopter a few times and each time you enjoyed the rush and looking down upon the city and countryside from afar.  

Mycroft tapped your arm and motioned to look at his window. You moved over to his side and looked down on the ground. 

“This is the countryside. The man who we’re investigating lives...right there,” he said, pointing to a charming large cream colored mansion. Well manicured bushes and trees surrounded it. You quickly took in all the visible exits and windows and doors. 

“How did someone get inside with all of that security?” You asked, raising your voice to shield against the loudness of the helicopter. 

He looked at you, but didn’t speak. “That’s what we must figure out. The answers are there, but not in plainsight.” 

The helicopter began lowering and then softly landed on the grass, causing ripples through the field. You took your headsets off and hopped out after Mycroft. He waited for you by his side and began walking to the back door. 

He turned his body towards you and stopped, pulling something out of his pocket. A gun. 

“You might need this. Preparation. You know the deal.” He handed it to you. You stuffed it in your waistline hook. Mycroft opened the door and walked inside with you. Naturally, you scanned the proximities and let your mind do the thinking. After walking a few feet you gained a handful of valuable information from this. He continued into a grand lobby area and there on the ground near the main steps lay a body. You quickly walked up to it and intricately studied it. Nothing hit your mind initially, but you felt something coming. 

“Shot in the chest. Took him out after a few minutes of heavy bleeding.” Mycroft said. 

“He was dying before that.” 

“What?” 

“Poison. Intentional.”

“Who did this?” 

You thought hard and looked everywhere and anywhere. You knew this. 

“He didn’t know them. A man. Young. He wore a biohazard suit and dealt with chemicals. He became terrified so he shot him.” 

Mycroft folded his arms, still standing. “What was he going to do?” 

“I can’t be certain, but probably something with acid.” 

He raised his eyebrows and sighed. “I think you’re right. We’ll go through the house and examine more. When we’re done I’ll jot down all the evidence that you have about it.” He began walking up the steps. You ran up to him. 

“What have you been up to?” You asked him. 

He looked startled to hear the question, but accepted it. “Just being here and doing my job.” He was awkward like that. 

“You like commanding people. I know that.” 

He blushed and hung his head. “I know you do too.” 

You laughed. “To an extent. This is my first time in London. I never knew about you. You seem important.” 

He smiled. “I am.” Mycroft walked in a large bedroom, examining it. You walked to the other side of the house, going in and out of rooms, trying to make more sense of everything. You heard Mycroft mumbling on the phone. He changed a lot and certainly became more mature. Initially, you doubted it was even him. You bent down and looked under beds, carpets, inside drawers and desks and closets. Nothing was alarming too you. 

Slam 

You stopped in your tracks and kept silent. You heard a door hardly slam from the other side of the house where Mycroft was. Something was wrong. You quietly stepped into the hallway and walked slowly across to the door. As you grew nearer, you heard shuffling and a low voice. 

Your heart dropped. Someone was nearby. You didn’t speak, but you placed your hands on the door knob, slowly turning it open. You swiftly moved your body through the narrow opening and bent down next to the wall to listen. You had your hand on your gun, prepared.

Then you heard someone else’s gun click. 

You knew someone had Mycroft. Slowly, you crept your head near the corner to see. You pulled your gun out and slowly peeked your head out. There he was, a stranger, standing above Mycroft with a gun pointed at him and blood running from his head. He suddenly looked at you and shot in your direction. You ducked down and came out of hiding, effortlessly shooting at the man. You aimed for his head and squinted your eyes involuntarily. You rolled around on the floor, barely missing his shots. After your first miss, you shot a bullet directly in his head. He fell down. 

You ran to Mycroft and took his hands. 

“Are you alright?” You asked, squeezing his hands. 

He nodded. “You saved my life.” 

You smiled. “It wasn’t a big deal.” 

He shook his head. “Thank you.” You locked eyes with him and shared a moment of pleasantness. It gave you time to think and look at how much he changed. Never would you ever think in many years to come that you would save your past rivalry. You shifted your focus over to the body lying on the floor, blood pooling around his head. Mycroft noticed your dismay and touched your shoulder, offering you comfort. 

“We should leave.” He said. “I think this case is closed.” 

He stood up and walked out with you. “I hear you’re good with computers.” 

You stepped inside a bathroom and grabbed a small town on a hanger and threw it to Mycroft for his head. “More or less. I can teach you some things.” You walked down the steps with him and across the long lobby. He put his arm around your shoulders and you grabbed his hand, enjoying the moment. 

“We should catch up.” He said. 

“Dinner tonight?” 

“Couldn’t be any better.” 

[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars LVI (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: The ending of this chapter... I really did THAT -Danny

Words: 4,376

Warnings: Punches ig 

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Chapter Fifteen: The Final Push.

Hagrid was absolutely crushed after the news, he wanted Buckbeak to live so badly, he couldn't bring himself to keep an optimistic attitude. 

The words of encouragement had soon worn out, and all they could do was assure him that they'd do everything to give him a strong defense.

They were walking back up to the castle with the rest of the class. Ahead they could see Malfoy, who was walking with Crabbe and Goyle, and kept looking back, laughing derisively.

"S'no good, Ron," said Hagrid sadly as they reached the castle steps. "That Committee's in Lucius Malfoy's pocket. I'm jus' gonna make sure the rest o' Beaky's time is the happiest he's ever had. I owe him that..."

Hagrid turned around and hurried back toward his cabin, his face buried in his handkerchief.

"Look at him blubber!"

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle had been standing just inside the castle doors, listening.

"Have you ever seen anything quite as pathetic?" said Malfoy. "And he's supposed to be our teacher!"

Harry and Ron both made furious moves toward Malfoy, but Hermione got there first — SMACK!

She had slapped Malfoy across the face with all the strength she could muster. Malfoy staggered. Harry, Ron, Crabbe, and Goyle stood flabbergasted as Hermione raised her hand again.

"Don't you dare call Hagrid pathetic, you foul — you evil —"

"Hermione!" said Ron weakly, and he tried to grab her hand as she swung it back.

"Get off, Ron!"

With all certainty, Mel would keep that memory as one of the best from her time at Hogwarts.

She was standing behind Harry and Ron, covering her mouth in shocked amusement, pride swelling on her chest as she watched the look of utter fear on Malfoy while Hermione pulled out her wand.

"Wands off, 'Mione!" Mel warned her. "If you attack Malfoy with magic you'll get in trouble. However, as of now... one tiny smack means nothing..."

"You made that up," Malfoy sneered.

"Perhaps," She stepped forward. "Would you like to be the one to confirm it?"

"C'mon," Malfoy hissed at Crabbe and Goyle, rushing towards the dungeons.

"Hermione!" Ron gasped again.

"Wasn't she the best?" Mel snickered.

"Harry, you'd better beat him in the Quidditch final!" Hermione cried. "You just better had, because I can't stand it if Slytherin wins!"

"We're due in Charms," said Ron clumsily. "We'd better go."

"I've never been more proud in my life!" Mel exclaimed, but a sudden worry caused her to frown. "Well, maybe just once– That time when we rescued Harry with the Ford Anglia... Hey, Erick's gonna love this story!"

She whispered the last thing to Hermione only, who mouthed a 'Don't you dare!' as a response.

"You're late!" said Professor Flitwick when they got to the classroom. "Come along, quickly, wands out, we're experimenting with Cheering Charms today, we've already divided into pairs —"

"Oh, lovely!" She smiled. "'Mione, let's pair–"

She turned around, finding an empty spot where her friend had been standing seconds ago.

"Hey, where's Hermione?"

Harry and Ron turned without slowing down.

"That's weird," said Harry, sitting down next to Ron while Mel sat behind them. "Maybe — maybe she went to the bathroom or something?"

"She would've waited," The girl replied. "I don't see Hermione turning around after just arriving without asking for permission..."

She got paired with Neville, who was glad to have her as his partner, so much that he managed to succeed after the second try. She made sure to congratulate him lots about it. They walked together to the Great Hall, which was lucky, considering Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle arrived at the same time.

They threw menacing looks towards Neville and he squirmed beside her, Mel held each of their gazes while guiding her friend to their table.

"You shouldn't worry about them for now," She told him. "Want advice? Stay around Hermione, I assure you they'll want to stay as far as possible from her."

"Why?" He asked while sitting at the table.

"Hermione slapped him," Mel said gleefully, taking a plate.

"What?" George's voice pipped up from her left. He was sitting in front of her, next to his brother and Lee Jordan. "Hermione slapped someone? Who?"

"Please, tell me it was Ron," Fred said, taking a huge bite of his food.

"Blimey, thanks for the good wishes..." Ron scoffed, sitting next to Neville and her.

"Way better," She leaned on the table and whispered with excitement. "She slapped Malfoy!"

"WHAT?" The three boys exclaimed, Lee Jordan even choked on his pumpkin juice.

"It was by far the most glorious moment of the whole year."

"You're telling me that for the first time ever, you didn't start a fight–" George pointed at her with a chicken leg. "And Hermione Granger was the first to throw a punch?"

"Hell must be freezing," Mel chortled.

"I can't believe it," Neville said. "Where is she right now?"

"Watching her back if she's clever," Fred raised a brow. "I don't expect Malfoy to go and tell the rest of his peers about this, but if they found out, Pansy will go after her."

"And I will gladly glue her arse to the spot," Mel replied.

Fred, George, and Lee Jordan laughed. Ron, Harry, and Neville stared at her with wide eyes.

"You can't," Said Neville. "It would start a war!"

"Don't worry about it," She grinned. "They're all cowards, won't get in a fight they know they can't win."

"Remember what Dumbledore told you," Harry replied. "You can't let your emotions take–"

"I know, I know," She brushed it off with a lazy hand movement. "It was a joke, I'm not going to actively look or start any fights."

"See that?" George turned to his brother. "Looks like the lady's actually starting to act like one."

"Such a shame," Fred shook his head. "Soon enough she'll be made a Prefect and won't be funny at all!"

"Don't be mean!" Mel argued, and she didn't know what offended her most, being called 'not funny' or being called a 'true lady'.

When they arrived at the common room, they found Hermione sleeping the afternoon away, both boys sat on each side while Mel stood in front of them, examining the papers scattered around the table.

Harry nudged her shoulder and Hermione jolted awake.

"Wh — what?" said Hermione, waking with a start and staring wildly around. "Is it time to go? W — which lesson have we got now?

"Divination, but it's not for another twenty minutes," said Harry. "Hermione, why didn't you come to Charms?"

"What? Oh no!" Hermione squeaked. "I forgot to go to Charms!"

"But how could you forget?" said Harry. "You were with us till we were right outside the classroom!"

"I don't believe it!" Hermione wailed. "Was Professor Flitwick angry? Oh, it was Malfoy, I was thinking about him and I lost track of things!"

"You know what, Hermione?" said Ron, looking down at the enormous Arithmancy book Hermione had been using as a pillow. "I reckon you're cracking up. You're trying to do too much."

"No, I'm not!" said Hermione, brushing her hair out of her eyes and staring hopelessly around for her bag. "I just made a mistake, that's all! I'd better go and see Professor Flitwick and say sorry... I'll see you in Divination!"

Hermione joined them at the foot of the ladder to Professor Trelawney's classroom twenty minutes later, looking extremely harassed.

"I can't believe I missed Cheering Charms! And I bet they come up in our exams; Professor Flitwick hinted they might!"

"I'll help you study next time we go to the library," Mel patted her shoulder.

They climbed up the divination classroom, sitting together in a small table, a crystal ball right in the middle of it.

"I thought we weren't starting crystal balls until next term," Ron muttered.

"Don't complain, this means we've finished palmistry," Harry said. "I was getting sick of her flinching every time she looked at my hands."

"Well, Glasses, I'd flinch too– they're so skinny and pale they look like a vampire's!" Mel teased, gaining a soft kick on the leg.

"Good day to you!" Professor Trelawney approached them, appearing from the shadows. "I have decided to introduce the crystal ball a little earlier than I had planned, the fates have informed me that your examination in June will concern the Orb, and I am anxious to give you sufficient practice."

Hermione snorted.

"Well, honestly... 'the fates have informed her'... who sets the exam? She does! What an amazing prediction!" She said loud and clear. Harry, Mel, and Ron tried (and failed) to keep their sniggers unnoticed.

"Crystal gazing is a particularly refined art," Their Professor continued. "I do not expect any of you to See when first you peer into the Orb's infinite depths. We shall start by practicing relaxing the conscious mind and external eyes, so as to clear the Inner Eye and the superconscious. Perhaps, if we are lucky, some of you will see before the end of the class."

They sat for twenty boring minutes in silence, trying to see things that were clearly not there.

"Seen anything yet?" Harry asked them.

"Yeah, there's a burn on this table," said Ron. "Someone's spilled their candle."

"This is such a waste of time," Hermione scoffed. "I could be practicing something useful. I could be catching up on Cheering Charms —"

"Would anyone like me to help them interpret the shadowy portents within their Orb?" Trelawney walked past them.

"I don't need help," Ron whispered. "It's obvious what this means. There's going to be loads of fog tonight."

The children's guards were down, and they burst out laughing at Ron's comment.

"Now, really!" The woman stood before them in annoyance. "You are disturbing the clairvoyant vibrations!"

Mel watched as Trewlaney got closer to them, examining the crystal ball carefully.

"There is something here! Something moving... but what is it? My dear, it is here, plainer than ever before... my dear, stalking toward you, growing ever closer... the Gr —"

"Oh, for goodness' sake!" said Hermione, causing the girl to jump beside her. "Not that ridiculous Grim again!"

"I am sorry to say that from the moment you have arrived in this class, my dear, it has been apparent that you do not have what the noble art of Divination requires. Indeed, I don't remember ever meeting a student whose mind was so hopelessly mundane." The woman stood up again, her indignation clear.

"Fine!" Hermione got up and threw her book in the bag with rage. "Fine! I give up! I'm leaving!"

And with that, Hermione moved to the trapdoor, opened it with a hard kick, and disappeared.

Mel turned to the boys and mouthed, 'Never been more proud, I swear...'

"Ooooo!" Lavender exclaimed from her chair. "Oooooo, Professor Trelawney, I've just remembered! You saw her leaving, didn't you? Didn't you, Professor? 'Around Easter, one of our number will leave us forever!' You said it ages ago, Professor!"

Professor Trelawney wouldn't let that pass, of course.

"Yes, my dear, I did indeed know that Miss Granger would be leaving us. One hopes, however, that one might have mistaken the Signs... The Inner Eye can be a burden, you know..."

"The inner eye can also be loads of– Ouch!" She hissed, Harry had pinched her arm.

"Don't make her kick you out too," He whispered.

"Some day Hermione's having, eh?" Ron muttered to them, he looked amazed at their friend's actions.

"Yeah..."

The Easter holidays were not exactly relaxing. The third years had never had so much homework. Neville Longbottom seemed close to a nervous collapse, and he wasn't the only one.

"Call this a holiday!" Seamus Finnigan roared at the common room one afternoon. "The exams are ages away, what're they playing at?"

But nobody had as much to do as Hermione. Even without Divination, she was taking more subjects than anybody else. She was usually last to leave the common room at night, first to arrive at the library the next morning; she had shadows like Lupin's under her eyes, and seemed constantly close to tears.

Ron had taken over responsibility for Buckbeak's appeal. When he wasn't doing his own work, he was poring over enormously thick volumes with names like The Handbook of Hippogriff Psychology and Fowl or Foul? A Study of Hippogriff Brutality. He was so absorbed, he even forgot to be horrible to Crookshanks.

Harry, meanwhile, had to fit in his homework around Quidditch practice every day, not to mention endless discussions of tactics with Wood. The Gryffindor-Slytherin match would take place on the first Saturday after the Easter holidays. Slytherin was leading the tournament by exactly two hundred points. This meant (as Wood constantly reminded his team) that they needed to win the match by more than that amount to win the Cup. It also meant that the burden of winning fell largely on Harry, because capturing the Snitch was worth one hundred and fifty points.

Mel was surprisingly well, she found her lessons enrapturing, and since her exams were approaching, Dumbledore decided to give her a break from their own private lessons, explaining that she was doing a wonderful job and she didn't need to be pressured, having more important things to attend.

She tried to help her friends in the meantime, Neville and Hermione especially. Fred and George from time to time, who were (not so seriously, but still seemed worried about it) study sessions for their O.W.L.S– and though she didn't know much, she convinced them to make cards she could use to ask them questions. They didn't want to, but she insisted so much that they ended up accepting her help, and it seemed to be working. Next time she sat down to help them, Lee Jordan and Angelica were also there.

The only person who seemed to not need her help was Erick. He still attended their study sessions but instead of helping he would keep his eyes glued to his own work the whole time, silently taking notes on a notebook Mel had given him as a Christmas present (she'd also given him a nice muggle pen that Erick thought was the best thing to exist) and mumbling incoherent thoughts while turning the pages.

He wanted to be a Prefect, and he wanted to get there as the only, the indisputable winner of his year. When Mel asked him why was he so eager about it, he looked at her with a stare that caused her to shiver as he replied:

"No one messes with a Prefect."

"No one messes with you," She raised a brow. "I've seen the Slytherins of your year, they revolve around you like moths–"

He brushed it off like it meant nothing.

"Worship from some kids does not equal the freedom and power that being made a Prefect would give me."

"Sounds like something a villain would say..."

"Whatever," He shrugged.

The Quidditch final stood before them as the final straw to break everyone's nerves. Erick and Mel cut off their study sessions because they certainly couldn't risk being found together in such a heavy time. Students were almost always fighting each other, trying to attack Harry or Malfoy, or any other members of the teams.

The night before the game passed in a dream-like state. Fred and George had so much energy that they looked like rubber balls jumping from one side to the other, making jokes without stopping.

Mel was laughing a lot, she even thought about sneaking to the kitchens (the twins had given her the directions since her first year) and ask for a bunch of food for her and the rest of her friends to calm them down, but it didn't look like the best idea, she didn't want them to get sick.

The twins were loving the attention, it clearly distracted them from their own worries, but they weren't the only friends she had on the team. Soon enough she sat next to Harry, who looked paler and perhaps even smaller than usual. Mel tried to find the rights words but nothing came to her mind, she sat there until Wood asked the team to go to bed.

People made a fuss when the Gryffindor team entered the Great Hall, they cheered and applauded, the Slytherins throwing insults and all– At least they weren't fighting violently now. Wood refused to eat but urged the rest of the kids to finish their breakfast.

Just as they were leaving, Mel realized she hadn't wished Harry good luck, (it was the first final he'd be playing, after all) and though she could've done it once he was in the dressing room, she saw Cho Chang wishing him good luck from Ravenclaw's table and Harry blushing wildly at this, so she obviously had to do something.

"Harry!" She ran up to him, pushing her words out of her mouth before she could think it twice. "You got this. You'll win. Good luck." She placed a quick kiss to his cheek.

The former redness of his cheeks meant nothing compared to the way his whole face flushed a deep scarlet after her public show of affection. The whole Gryffindor table whistled and clapped, not helping to their embarrassment. She avoided the twins' eyes and made sure not to look at the rest of the students' faces.

Merlin, why was she so impulsive?

She rushed back to where Ron and Hermione were sitting, and Ron stared at her with a smirk.

"You're doing an awful job at keeping your crush a secret."

"Shut it," She hid her face with both hands. "I don't know why I did that..."

She knew, though. But she'd rather die before admitting she was jealous.

"Come on, we should get going," Hermione stood up. "Before people take the best seats..."

"And it's Gryffindor in possession, Alicia Spinnet of Gryffindor with the Quaffle, heading straight for the Slytherin goal posts, looking good, Alicia! Argh, no — Quaffle intercepted by Warrington, Warrington of Slytherin tearing up the field — WHAM! — nice Bludger work there by George Weasley, Warrington drops the Quaffle, it's caught by — Johnson, Gryffindor back in possession, come on, Angelina — nice swerve around Montague — duck, Angelina, that's a Bludger! — SHE SCORES! TEN–ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!"

Angelina punched the air as she soared around the end of the field; the sea of scarlet below was screaming its delight —

"OUCH!"

Angelina was nearly thrown from her broom as Marcus Flint went smashing into her.

"Sorry!" said Flint as the crowd below booed. "Sorry, didn't see her!"

A moment later, Fred Weasley chucked his Beater's club at the back of Flint's head. Flint's nose smashed into the handle of his broom and began to bleed.

"That will do!" shrieked Madam Hooch, zooming between them. "Penalty shot to Gryffindor for an unprovoked attack on their Chaser! Penalty shot to Slytherin for deliberate damage to their Chaser!"

"Come off it, Miss!" howled Fred, but Madam Hooch blew her whistle and Alicia flew forward to take the penalty.

"Come on, Alicia!" yelled Lee into the silence that had descended on the crowd. "YES! SHE'S BEATEN THE KEEPER! TWENTY–ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!"

"This is good," Mel assured her friends, though she meant it more for herself. "They only need to be fifty points ahead, thirty more, come on..."

"Gryffindor in possession, no, Slytherin in possession — no! — Gryffindor back in possession and it's Katie Bell, Katie Bell for Gryffindor with the Quaffle, she's streaking up the field — THAT WAS DELIBERATE!"

"Nasty rats!" Once again, she was leaning against the edge of the stands. Hermione, used to this kind of behavior, was already holding the edge of the girl's robes tightly.

"THIRTY–ZERO! TAKE THAT, YOU DIRTY, CHEATING —"

"Jordan, if you can't commentate in an unbiased way — !"

"I'm telling it like it is, Professor!"

Harry suddenly launched forward to one end of the field and Malfoy followed suit. It was just to distract Malfoy, though, cause she caught a glimpse of something golden flying away on the opposite side to where Harry was heading.

WHOOSH.

One of the Bludgers came streaking past Harry's right ear, hit by the gigantic Slytherin Beater, Derrick. Then again —

WHOOSH.

The second Bludger grazed Harry's elbow. The other Beater, Bole, was closing in.

"They're going after him!" Mel exclaimed.

She was about to pull her wand when Ron stopped her, Harry had turned the Firebolt upward at the last second, causing the beaters to collide against each other.

"Ha haaa!" yelled Lee Jordan as the Slytherin Beaters lurched away from each other, clutching their heads. "Too bad, boys! You'll need to get up earlier than that to beat a Firebolt! And it's Gryffindor in possession again, as Johnson takes the Quaffle — Flint alongside her — poke him in the eye, Angelina! — it was a joke, Professor, it was a joke — oh no — Flint in possession, Flint flying toward the Gryffindor goal posts, come on now, Wood, save — !"

But Flint had scored; there was an eruption of cheers from the Slytherin end, and Lee swore so badly that Professor McGonagall tried to tug the magical megaphone away from him.

"Sorry, Professor, sorry! Won't happen again! So, Gryffindor in the lead, thirty points to ten, and Gryffindor in possession —"

It was a nasty show. Everyone had decided to play dirty, their morals long forgotten after what it seemed the tenth penalty of the hour. The score forty-ten to Gryffindor, only twenty more...

Katie scored next, and then both Slytherin beaters threw bludgers at Wood and got another penalty on their favor, now they were–

"Sixty-ten! Fred Weasley throws a Bludger at Warrington, knocking the Quaffle out of his hands; Alicia seizes it and put it through the Slytherin goal — seventy-ten!" Lee Jordan continued.

"Any moment now!" Mel yelled over the deafening crowd. "You can do it, Harry!"

Harry suddenly shoot up to one corner, he was so close... so close...

"NO!"

Malfoy had grabbed a hold of the Firebolt's tail and was pulling it back.

"Penalty! Penalty to Gryffindor! I've never seen such tactics!" Madam Hooch screeched.

"BLOODY BASTARD!" Mel was unable to stop herself. "WAIT TILL HE'S BACK ON THE GROUND, HERMIONE'S WILL BE NOTHING COMPARED TO WHAT I'LL DO TO HIM!"

"YOU CHEATING SCUM!" Lee Jordan was howling into the megaphone, dancing out of Professor McGonagall's reach. "YOU FILTHY, CHEATING B —"

Professor McGonagall didn't even bother to tell him off. She was actually shaking her finger in Malfoy's direction, her hat had fallen off, and she too was shouting furiously.

Alicia took Gryffindor's penalty, but she was so angry she missed by several feet. The Gryffindor team was losing concentration and the Slytherins, delighted by Malfoy's foul on Harry, were being spurred on to greater heights.

"Slytherin in possession, Slytherin heading for goal — Montague scores —" Lee groaned. "Seventy-twenty to Gryffindor...  Angelina Johnson gets the Quaffle for Gryffindor, come on, Angelina, COME ON!"

The whole Slytherin team flew out of their way to get her, but Harry rushed over to her, and flew in across and between the girl and the other team, causing them to scatter in the air and helping Angelina to get the clearest shot of the whole game.

"SHE SCORES! SHE SCORES! Gryffindor leads by eighty points to twenty!"

But Mel wasn't looking at the celebration, she was staring -completely terrified- at Malfoy, who had seen the snitch.

"HE'S SEEN IT!" She pointed frantically. "GUYS!"

It all happened so fast Mel wished she could've recorded the whole thing. Harry dived forward at an alarming speed, he was getting there, right next to Malfoy, he did a quick movement to push him away and suddenly...

"YES!"

He had it!

Harry had the snitch!

Later most of her memories would be too blurry to understand, but somehow she'd managed to be the first to run from the stands towards the team, push them away from Harry, and held him tightly against her, shouting in ecstasy.

"You did it!" She moved only enough to see Harry's face without breaking the hug.

"I caught the snitch!" He replied just as happy.

"Malfoy's face! And the way you dodged the beaters! And when you helped Angelica!" She said excitedly. "It was so impressive!"

"All the team was!" Then, as if he'd just remembered, he added. "I think your good luck kiss really works!"

He meant that in a friendly way, of course. Perhaps slightly teasing, maybe he was so happy he hadn't even thought of what that meant for her. Either way, her emotions took the best of her a second time that day. It seemed that she couldn't resist when it came to Harry.

Mel pulled him close by the collar and kissed the corner of his mouth.

Harry had moved his face without meaning to do it –taken by surprise by her sudden actions– and the kiss had landed there, startling both children for the fraction of a second. Before Mel could apologize, the rest of the supporters arrived and lifted Harry and the rest of the team on their shoulders, dragging them away.

Ron and Hermione pulled her along to follow where they were taking the team and watched McGonagall cry her eyes out next to Wood, even Percy had forgotten about appearances, jumping up and down and pointing to his brothers proudly. Wood passed the cup to Harry and he lifted it above his head, the screams growing impossibly louder. For the briefest second, Harry caught her eye.

During a terrible moment, she thought he would look away. However, his smile only grew when he held her gaze, he looked like the handsome hero from her fairy tales, tousled hair and flushed cheeks, an absolutely fascinating sight.

Harry was as bright as the sun.

Mel had the feeling that things would never be the same. How could they, when her opinion about everything had shifted overnight?

"Is everything all right?" Hermione asked beside her, probably taking notice of her state.

She replied, a mix of happiness and terror in her voice:

"I think I'm in love."

Next Chapter —>

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