#you sent this SOOO long ago & I'm terribly sorry for the wait!

[rickie-the-storyteller]

Get To Know My OC Tag!

This'll probably be the first of many since this was sooo much fun to do lol.

I was going to do this with Steph… but I felt more drawn towards El today for some reason. Probably because I've been editing a lot more of her scenes/chapters lately. So Elise, I choose you!

Thank you for tagging me, @gummybugg!

Let's begin!

__________

The door opens, and 18-year-old Elise Kennedy enters the room. She walks with graceful strides that indicates the quiet confidence she holds within her. She is a pretty girl - long wavy blonde hair styled in a messy bun, crystal clear blue eyes sparkling with joy and curiosity (despite being baggy from that high school stress and sleep deprivation), and a bright beaming smile that honestly does a better job of lighting up the room than my terrible cheap lamp does. She appears to be about 5'6, if I'm not wrong.

She extends a hand in greeting, radiating an immediate sense of warmth and sincerity. Her voice, I notice straight away is soft warm and gentle. It carries an undertone enough to put you at ease in an instant. Then she takes her seat.

I know I've only just met her, but she seems nice.

1) Are you named after anyone?

Elise: Uh, no. Not after a person, I don't think. Although, I do know how I got my name. My late grandmother was really into classical music, and she came up with the suggestion of "Elise" for me when I was born because one of her favourite pieces of music was "Für Elise" by Beethoven. When I was little, she actually taught me how to play it on the piano, too! That was a fun time… yeah. But to answer your question, no. Not that I know of.

2) When was the last time you cried?

Elise: I don't know… hmm, let me think. This is actually a deep question when you think about it.

Me: It is??

Elise: Wait! Do you mean, like proper crying? Bawling like a baby? Or do you mean like welling up, but not actually making a sound?

Me: Uh…

Elise: If you mean the first one, then probably last week. I was watching a really sad movie with my brother, and I just couldn't help it. If you mean the second one, then… I don't know. To be honest, it happens on a regular basis. So probably yesterday or something. I try not to be overly emotional all the time, but I'm a sensitive soul, what can I say? (pause) OH! I remember now!

Me: You do?

Elise: It was two weeks ago! Ok, let me explain - I have this friend who really loves music. His name is Bret, and something he likes to do as a hobby is write and produce his own songs, right? And two weeks ago, he sent me an email with a link to his SoundCloud. He posts all his songs there now, its amazing! Anyway, he asked me for feedback on the first song he uploaded on there. So I listened to it, and it made me cry. It was very deep and moving. I loved it… (laughs awkwardly) I feel like my answers are way too long, ha-ha! Sorry about that.

Me: Don't be sorry. This is good!

Elise: I'll send you a link to Bret's SoundCloud! You need to listen to it yourself, so you know what I'm talking about.

Me: Would your friend mind?

Elise: Uh… (pauses for a while to wonder whether or not Bret would actually mind) Probably not?

3) Do you have kids?

Elise: Uh, no. Nor do I want any - at least not right now. I'm still a school kid! (pause) I know I'm 18, so legally I count as an adult, but I still feel like a kid, honestly. And I think that just as a general rule, if you feel like a kid or act like a kid, you probably shouldn't raise a kid.

4) Do you use sarcasm?

Elise: (thinks for a moment, then nods) Yeah. Not as often as some people do, but sometimes it's just necessary, especially when you're dealing with difficult or incompetent people.

5) What's the first thing you notice about people?

Elise: I feel like I'm naturally quite good at reading people, you know? Like, even with people I don't know all that well, I can just look at them and have a good idea of how they're feeling, what their thinking, what they're like. And it's usually pretty accurate, as well. I'm quite intuitive in that sense. I think this is also the reason I connect well with others even if they're very different from me. Like, I'm an introvert, and I'm generally rather quiet and mind my own business most of the time, but quite a lot of my friends are super energetic extroverted people. I think its fun to be curious, you know? Like, taking the time to understand and empathise with a person. You form closer bonds with people that way.

6) What's your eye colour?

Elise: Blue! You see? (opens eyes wide so that I can see their colour)

7) Any special talents?

Elise: Hmm. I don't know if any of my talents count as "special" or anything. I have talents… like, back when I used to perform in my old choir, I was known for being able to hold notes for really, really long. My record back then was like 47 seconds. But it's been years since then, and I probably can't do it anymore. Anything else? (pauses to think for a second) Don't know whether this counts, but I'm really good at memorising things. My brother says I have a memory sharper than a katana… which I think says everything you need to know about him. (laughs) But like, to give an example, I can read a book and basically be able to quote it word for word afterwards. Or watch a show, and be able to recite every line in a given scene. It's quite helpful as a student, actually. Makes the studying process a bit smoother. Not that I don't work hard for my grades, because I do. I don't consider myself to be a mega-super-genius or anything.

8) Scary movies or happy endings?

Elise: Are you kidding me?! Happy ending all the way! I can't sit through a horror movie for the life of me. I hate scary stuff, I just don't like the feeling of terror. I don't get why some people actually like it. I mean some people have to like it, right? There has to be a reason that the horror genre has a market.

9) Where were you born?

Elise: Born and raised in London, baby!

10) What are your hobbies?

Elise: Reading, first of all. I love to read so much. I always have.

Me: What is the book you're reading currently?

Elise: Right now, I'm re-reading "Normal People" by Sally Rooney. It's so good, I highly recommend it. But aside from reading, I like music a lot. Not as much as Bret, but I love to play a bit of piano whenever I have the time, and I also love to sing still. Even though I'm not in my old choir anymore.

Me: Why did you stop if you clearly loved doing it?

Elise: (sighs) It was a toxic environment for me… I needed a break from some of those people. I don't really want to get into it.

Me: Ooookay… (slightly concerned)

11) Do you have any pets?

Elise: No, and I've always wanted one! (pouts) It didn't even matter what it was! My parents aren't about that, though. Ugh! (pause) Maybe in the future, I'll get a puppy. I love dogs so much!

12) What sports do you play/have played?

Elise: None. (laughs) I've never been a sporty person.

13) How tall are you?

Elise: Five foot five. And a bit, depending on what shoes I'm wearing.

14) Favourite subject in school?

Elise: These questions are getting harder… (laughs) I don't know what my favourite subject is. I like all my subjects… I chose four subjects I really enjoy for A level. English Lit, Politics, History and Textiles. I like all of them for different reasons. Even when I struggle with one of them, and it is my least favourite one day, I can't bring myself to hate it… and it ends up being my favourite subject the next day.

Me: Well, tell me why you like all of your subjects.

Elise: Ok! So English Lit is because I love literature, as you may have inferred before from what I said about reading… Politics is because I just find that aspect of the world interesting, you know? I mean, I never used to, but once I started taking this class, I just found it fascinating. Just seeing how that stuff works. History was my strongest subject back when I did my GCSEs, so I was like "I have to do it again next year!" And Textiles… I don't know, I just find it peaceful. It's a chill subject to balance out the crazy intense ones. (laughs again)

15) Dream job?

Elise: In my dreams, I have all kinds of different jobs. Just last night I had a dream that I was this therapist, right, and all of my friends from work were coming into my office to ask for help with their love lives, despite the fact that I literally have no dating experience and am therefore the least qualified person to ask for help in that department. Man… why would you even go to your therapist just to ask about your love life anyway? Is that the only thing in your life that's bothering you?! The ONLY thing?!

Me: …That's not what I meant.

Elise: Yeah, I know. I just wanted to talk about my weird dream for a second. I don't know what my dream job is. As a child, my dream job was to be an author, like Cressida Cowell. I used to love her books growing up. I wanted to write just like her… create this huge epic fantasy series… have that series get turned into movies… but I couldn't come up with any original ideas. So I gave up.

Me: Awww…

Elise: Oh, it's okay. I still write a bit sometimes for fun. But in terms of an actual career, I'm stuck between two things - a lawyer, and a journalist.

Me: Two completely different things.

Elise: Yep. Lawyer because it's something I've been working towards all my life, pretty much. I mainly did it because my parents always said that it's a promising career to have. But journalism is just so fascinating to me. It's like being a writer, except you don't need to come up with original ideas. Plus, you get to explore the world, discover exciting new people and places and cultures and events… and tell stories that don't often get heard. It's like the career was made for me!

Me: It does, doesn't it? Well, I'm sure you'll make the right choice for yourself. Thanks for coming, Elise. This has been fun.

Elise: Of course! Thank you for having me.

END OF INTERVIEW.

__________

This was so much fun! I want to make this an open tag, but I'll just tag these three people to give it a go as well:

@rubywrite

@soph1333

@winterandwords

[a-earthssprout]

🎃🍂 answered asks ! // unprompted. ( always accepting ! ) 

@pluviacuratio​ sent: Little Ari gets a mama hug!

FEW THINGS IN LIFE WERE AS PRECIOUS AS A MOTHER'S TENDER HOLD, and for so long, it was something little Ari could only dream of experiencing. Back at the orphanage, she'd often hug her tattered stuffed bunny in her lonely little bed, imagining a happy life with a loving family—something that little orphans like her are without. Now there's no need for any pretending; she was warmly welcomed into Bella's arms whenever she wished to be held, allowed to enjoy it for as long as she liked, and found such comfort while there.

So little Ari practically melted in against Bella, smiling wide and closing her eyes, and she returned this embrace with one just as loving and full of heart as the one Bella gave her. 

" I … I love you, Mama … " Ari whispered, " I lll … love you very, very much … " 

[liptonsbabe]

Chains of a family [B.W]

Bill Weasley x Grant! reader

Chapter 1,

Chapter 2,

Chapter 3,

Chapter 4,

Chapter 5, 

Chapter 6

Summary: The Weasley family have traditions about marriage and Bill has to respect them if he truly wants the reader become his wife. In the attempt to respect his family wishes the weasleys have to visit reader’s grandparent Tim Grant who has a lot of things to say

Word count: 5K TOO LONG I’M SO SORRY

Warnings: none(?

A/N: Hey! part 6 of this thing. I’m so sorry to update this late but it was a complicated chapter and the longest so far. I’ll try to make small chapters from now on and the wedding is aproching, you guys!! i’m sooo excited to publish that part but we have to wait a little more for that.

So, as i’ve said in the last chapter, i changed some things from de canon like Bill being attacked by Grayback and such. it’s just for the plot of this series ok? hope you don’t mind guys.

Anyways, like always, english not my mother language so pls let me know if somethings wrong. Enjoy!

Chapter 6: Your life is not enough

You needed a couple of weeks to fully recover, even if it meant having Bill on your back every hour and taking you away from your duties with the Order. The mission that Remus Lupin gave you had to wait until further notice, all for William's excessive concern about your wounds

The task of keeping you away was complicated, more so when the Death Eater attacks had gained strength that no one expected. The members of the order spent twenty-four hours a day on watch with no time for breaks, even Bill went three days without sleep until you, still recovering , left the room and dragged him back with you regardless of his constant complaining. Molly supported you in the decision - thank god - telling her son not to worry that the rest of the Order would keep their eyes fully opened and he could rest comfortably next to you

The drastic change in Mrs. Weasley's behavior confused you because there was no reason for it, but the relief helped make your recovery quicker and less painful. The healer who  you the morning after the accident with the Death Eaters took too long to close the wound as it was a curse wound and it needed a counter spell to heal properly, but not having one, he used other tactics and Dittany to help it heal. However, the help had come too late, and the scar was a throbbing fact that stung terribly when you made the slightest move. The healer said the burning and discomfort would go away with time, but the redness would stay forever. You thought that would be the last of your problems until you got your first glimpse of the result of the attack.

It was a disastrous thing, but it could have been much worse. You sighed as you looked at your disheveled image in the bathroom mirror. You had just taken a shower and Bill was still dressing in the bedroom. You took off the robe Ginny had given you a night before, watching the scar glisten across the valley of your breasts ending above your ribs. You sighed again, if you didn't consider yourself pretty before, at that moment you felt awful.

A new figure appeared in the reflection accompanied by a bright smile. William wore his white shirt tucked into his pants, his bow tie dangling from his collar and his suspenders placed perfectly flush against his shoulders. You smiled, looking at him through the mirror.

“Getting used to your dazzling new short hair?” You asked as you noticed Bill's nervous hand run over his head for the fifth time after the shower. Bill groaned, burying his face in your neck.

“I hate this style”

“And why did you cut it off, then?”

“Mom made me," he stated, tightening his hands around your waist, "She wants me to make a good impression, and for once I wanted to please her in something”

“Wow, your mom wanting to impress my family? That's new”

“Well, not every day you get to visit Lord Voldemort's brother," you gave him a bad look, smacking his hand, "Too soon for a joke, sorry”

You shook your head, escaping from Bill's embrace putting perfume behind your ear, on your wrists and neck. You gasped when a small drop of perfume touched your wound, reddening it. Your eyes lost in the scar again, knowing that even if your dress managed to cover most of it, the initial edges would be exposed like the body of a worm crawling through your clothes. Bill discovered your discontent. He hugged you again, running his fingertips over your sore skin as he kissed your bare shoulder. Maybe you couldn't see it, but for Bill you were perfect. Not just for the way you looked, but  the beautiful heart that, even if he didn't deserve it, you had given him without any qualms. You deserved to be appreciated by the rest of the world, not just by him.

“I love you. You know that, don't you?”

“Even with the scar?”

“With the scar even more. It shows how brave you are and you should be proud of it. You saved Mad-Eye”

“The others will see it”

“It's their problem, not yours. You're still the most beautiful woman in this world.

You smiled, stroking the short hair of the man behind you.

“Not as much as that”

“You're right. I stand corrected. You are the most beautiful woman in both worlds”

“William...”

“I'll help you get dressed," he said, noticing that you were blushing up to your ears. William smiled without understanding why a sweet comment could make you blush, but not the fact that he was looking at you naked from the waist up. He picked up the dress hanging on the dresser reaching over to help it over your head pulling it down gently so as not to hurt you. Then, he zipped up your back leaving a wet kiss on your neck.

Bill's false calm didn't go unnoticed by you. As you smoothed the folds of your dress you noticed the trembling in his hands and the way his feet drummed on the floor. He was playing with the zipper of your dress pulling it up and down, trying to calm his nerves

“Bill, it's not necessary to do this”

“It is!” He replied looking up. You turned to him, crossing your arms around his neck, "I want to respect the traditions, to do things right. I want to show everyone that we mean business. It's just that...”

“My grandfather scares you?”

“What? No” You raised an eyebrow “Okay, maybe a little”

“You don't need to talk to him. He'll understand”

“I want to”

You gave in to Bill's pout. A few days ago, just after he asked you to marry him, Arthur Weasley spoke to his son asking him how he would go about keeping the traditions of the family. Bill didn't seem to understand what he was referring to when his father explained that the Weasleys used to always, always, visit the bride's parents' home right after the engagement to ask for their approval. Offerings were usually brought in a show of respect and the parents in question would respond by offering dinner for the guests. Bill's eyes widened, was that a real tradition?, he didn't know, “why didn't you ever tell me about it!” he questioned his father in a shout. Arthur knew about his son's untimely ignorance, returning the accusation, “Would that have made any difference on your desire to have her as your wife?” Bill didn't have to think too hard. “Of course not!” he shouted and his father laughed, patting him on the shoulder. His son was brave and would have asked for his bride's hand even from Voldemort himself. Bill was lucky tho cause he only had to talk to the old alchemist Tim Grant.

Your grandfather was the only one in the family who seemed to be neutral in the war caused by his brother, but above all he was the person who loved you most as you had both been banished from the Grants for standing up for your own convictions. Maybe Tim wasn’t an active member of either side, however, the blood connection with his brother Tom Riddle sent shivers down the spines of those around him. The man isolated himself in the Galapagos islands dangerously close to a volcano, where he was sure his brother wouldn’t dare to look for him. The Weasleys, hearing the story from your lips didn’t understand why.

You used a portkey to get to your grandfather's house. Arthur had communicated with Tim hours earlier and the two of them managed to establish a connection undetected for the ministry thanks to  the old Grant's powerful magic and his skills as an alchemist.  You couldn't hide your excitement at seeing your grandfather again, which encouraged Bill's eagerness to formally introduce himself to his next.... grandfather-in-law?

“Well then, but you don't have to worry. Grandpa is a very understanding man”

“Yeah, I'm sure he is”

“Bill Weasley, who knew talking to an old man would make you so nervous?”

“Very funny” he rolled his eyes, gluing his forehead to yours “I just want him to like me, (Y/N)”

“He likes everyone”

“That doesn't make me feel any better.”

“It will when you talk to him and see there's nothing to be afraid of” You stood on your tiptoes cause even with your high heels you couldn't reach his height. You kissed his cheek, snatching a warm smile from him “He's not like the rest of my family”

“I didn't mean to imply that, I'm sorry”

“It's all right, I know you didn't mean it. Now let's go downstairs, your mother must be going crazy”

“As if she wasn't already”

You slapped his arm as you descended the stairs. You didn't want Molly to hear them and relive her recently dissipated discontent with you

The rest of the family were already near the portkey with their arms full of baskets with offerings for your grandpa and the twins carrying some strange ornaments. Bill's sister Ginny greeted you with a smile, handing one of the baskets to her older brother. Molly and Arthur approached their children, both hanging on the opposite arm dressed in their best sunday clothes to make a good impression. You smiled without waiting for Bill's mother to smile back.

After the accident at Little Whinging Molly's rudeness disappeared. Not that she accepted you with open arms, but she stopped making bad comments and avoided looking at you in a bad way. Bill didn't know what Mad-Eye said to his mother that night when he told everyone how you had saved him knowing how much he owed you, but Bill didn't understand the size of the changing till he saw his mother offer you a piece of litchi pie the night after the attack when you were recovering from the wound. It was not that big of a deal really, but it had left you with a permanent smile on your face.

It was Molly herself who had taken the initiative to encourage Bill to fulfill the family tradition. If a Grant was going to come into their home as their son's wife then she should do it the way they knew. Her first piece of advice to her son was cutting his hair to a normal length. Bill was horrified by his mother's words cause he knew she was taking advantage of the moment to make him suffer with his precious mane. He did it anyway, because there wasn't anything in the world he wouldn't do for you

It was a drastic change, but it was worth it. Molly saw your eyes sparkle at the sight of her son so changed, with his hair cut short and his beard shaved. Your fingers danced over his face appreciating the effort Molly, not yet convinced of your influence at home, had made for you. Molly stifled a smile, unaware even to herself, that you were slowly beginning to win her heart.

You touched the shuttle at the same time falling precipitously in the sand and Harry helped you up  with a smile. Then you walked straight appearing in front of a huge house that was sheltered by the foothills of the bubbling volcano on the other side of the island. The twins, like the rest of the family, let out an exclamation of astonishment as Ron, harried by the huge spiders hovering in the sand, ran for the door.

The smell of freshly cooked food escaped through the cracks in the door before it was opened. The twins' eyes widened as they recognized the delicious smell of cooked prawns and coconut sauce wafting over their heads. You knocked on the door three times, then stopped and resumed the knocking four more times. The Weasleys watched you, did you have a special code to communicate with each other?

"Come in" You gave way to them closing the door behind you and sealing it with an unknown spell. Bill waited for you at the threshold as his family was already making their way to the table where a very well dressed Tim Grant was waiting for them sitting in the main chair. Bill looked at him from his position, shaking “We still have time to run away” you joked “If you're not ready...”

“I am," he said confidently.

“Okay”

You both walked toward the dining room. Tim was greeting the rest of the family enthusiastically. Bill sighed. At least Tim seemed to get along with his parents, so that was good. They all filled a seat, with Tim occupying the head and Arthur the opposite end; Molly sat on Tim's right side and you sat on Mr. Weasley's right side. The twins, Ron, Harry and Ginny took the middle seats leaving Bill the only vacant spot on Tim's left side. Bill took a breath before taking the seat and receiving a curious look from the man.

“Ah, how wonderful is to have more people to fill the empty spaces! A table this big doesn't serve any purpose unless it's fully occupied, does it? That's what I always say!”

“Don't you usually get many visitors?” asked Molly, breaking the ice. Bill felt sweat trickle down his back. Tim guffawed, patting the back of Molly's hand on the table.

“I’m afraid so. I think that is cause I'm the only one crazy enough to live near an active volcano and my family's fame doesn't help me much either, I'm generally a lonely man. Most of the time it's frustrating, but I can deal with it. You are a big family from i can see, are they all yours, Arthur?”

“Only the redheads," he replied. You recognized in his tone of voice a slight pride “The other one is...”

“Harry Potter” Tim Grant's eyes sparkled with recognition. He looked at Harry with a smile, bowing his head to him in respect. Harry did the same “I know him. He's the guy who's been giving my brother headaches”

Tim's laughter echoed through the house being followed by the twins and you cleared your throat to get his attention. Tim spotted you from across the table waving his hand dismissively.

“Grandpa, please”

“A little joke to lighten the mood, my dear, oh, are these for me?” he questioned, bringing closer the baskets offered by the Weasleys resting on the table. Bill's basket was in front of him waiting to be properly delivered, so he stood up and did as he should. Tim Grant gladly received it, complimenting the selection they had made “What a cute boy, did you see him, dear,? he's gone red!”

You let out a chuckle, nodding at your grandfather's words. Bill's face was flushed as he returned to his spot and looked down at his hands. Tim guffawed again and banged the table.

“I appreciate the gifts, Arthur, I've never been part of a tradition like this before”

“It was important for my son and the rest of us to do it, to introduce ourselves properly”

“Sure! It's what a family with honor does. I'm not surprised. No, not at all. The Weasleys were in the book of the sacred twenty-eight for a long time until they were struck off the list. Tell me, that was quite a blow, wasn't it?”

“Not so much, my family has never cared about that sort of thing”

“Of course! It never did, I could see it up close. Did you know I was friends with your grandmother, Lysandra Yaxley?”

Arthur's eyes widened.

“Really?”

“Really. My family also once belonged to the most important pureblood families until I was born, of course. Lysandra and I became friends because her family also got kicked off the list when Cedrella, your mother, married your father Septimus Weasley. Even your grandfather Arcturus was removed from the Black family tree which was an embarrassment for him being that the ancestral Black family is too proud and such. Anyway, that's part of life, right? Creating new families, bringing people together...”

“Was your family always purebloods?” Fred asked. Tim shook his head

“It was. As I mentioned, before I made my appearance in this world”

“Why?”

Tim was suddenly silent. You scanned your grandfather's face waiting for an answer. Dinner plates flew in from the kitchen and positioned themselves at each guest's place setting while a huge chocolate fountain was set up in the center accompanied by a plate overflowing with assorted fruit. The baskets took a turn and took a place on your grandpa's shelves. Tim sighed, looking at the Weasleys asking to begin dinner.

“I’m the son of a witch, but not of a pure blood wizard”

“Don't you and Lord Voldemort share the same father?”

“Harry...”

”It's all right, Molly, I can answer that” Tim rubbed his chin, thinking “I understand your concern boy, being hide here doesn't make me ignorant to what's going on out there and I know better than anyone what you're going through. You need weapons against my brother and you do well. Tom is a big threat, a very big threat indeed. You're right, Tom and I don't share a father, but that doesn't make him any less my brother.

“I think we're straying from the subject that brought us here” mentioned Arthur feeling a sudden warmth. You supported him, but Tim continued to speak

“I was the son of Merope Gaunt and Aleister Grant. My father was a famous son, grandson and great-grandson of brilliant alchemists, and unsurprisingly he was one himself. Merope Gaunt was...  a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin and a Parselmouth. She had a brother named Morfin and my grandfather was Sorvolo Gaunt. My parents met when the Gaunts had just moved to Little Hangleton after their exile and needed a place to stay. They became the owners of a squalor ridden shack on the edge of town and well, my father was a young alchemist who lived near the Gaunt abode”

You sipped from your wine glass as you listened to your grandfather speak. Never, even with the rest of the family, had he ever struck such a chord as he was doing with the Weasleys. The truth was that you didn't understand why he was telling them all that, however, you weren’t interested in interrupting the story as you knew your grandfather had a purpose with him.

“Those of us who are dedicated to alchemy have never enjoyed an enviable reputation because our transmutation abilities are mostly underestimated by the things that magic in general can produce and it makes a science like alchemy reserved for muggles in their attempt to approach the power that the wizards possess. Personally I think there is something right about that, precisely cause the transmutation in the Muggle world is divided into subjects they taught in schools like chemistry or physics, but alchemy goes beyond that, it’s a connection between the wizard and the spirituality that each one possesses...” the man's gaze was lost in a place at the table, pausing the story. Harry settled back on the seat waiting for him to continue “But it's very difficult to erase the deep-rooted ideas about it, so the best is ignore that and continue doing what we believe is right. Anyway, ah! I got off topic, didn't I? Okay, okay, well my parents ended up meeting and my father fell in love with my mother as fast as my socks get cold at night, but that infatuation wasn’t well regarded by my uncle and even less by my grandfather, of course, for the fame of the alchemists at the time”

“So what happened?” you asked. Tim smiled at you, taking a bite of the rye bread on his plate.

“My mother was treated worse than a house- elf by her father and Morfin, so she decided to run away with my father to France where he had several alchemist friends who could protect them. The Gaunts might have been exiled, but they were still dangerous and to be honest I think my father was terribly afraid of uncle Morfin. They eventually made it to France, but they encountered an infamous muggle who tried to hurt my mother”

Everyone stopped eating to pay attention to Tim as he drank his third glass of wine. You thought that your grandfather wouldn't even be able to stand up by the end of the night.

“He was known as Gilles De Rais. He was a sadistic muggle who tried to become a wizard even though he wasn't born a wizard and used my father to tell him secrets of alchemy. One night they were having a conversation when my father revealed him that there were certain amounts of gold in people's bodies. Gold is a very valuable component, as you already know, so the man's greed didn’t take long to show itself and he questioned my dad how it could be obtained. My father told him that the only way to obtain the gold was by draining the blood and dividing it with a very complicated procedure, however, the gold of an ordinary adult was quite scarce. The real wealth was in the blood of children of no more than ten years old because they possessed a great amount of gold and other components that could be transmuted into riches. The muggle did so, and when he learned that my mother was a real witch, he wanted to know if golden blood ran through her veins, which would make him richer than he already was. My father refused, and decided to leave the place before he hurt us, because they knew she was already pregnant. The muggle went mad and unleashed in him a fury that spread throughout France”

The Weasley twins chorused an astonished murmur as the others moved up to the table so as not to miss a word of the story. You sent a glance at Bill as he hadn't stopped sweating and going over his words all evening.

"They wanted to go back to Little Hangleton but my uncle and grandfather were still in a rage waiting to see them arrive, so my father sent my mother alone while he found another place to stay as he could not expose her to the cold streets of France while on standby, so they had no choice but to leave her with her family avoiding revealing my existence to them. Uncle Morfin didn’t want my mother back, but my grandfather convinced him because they needed someone to take care of the house and their needs. Time passed, my father didn’t come back and I was born in the garden of the house while my mother watered the plants”

“My birth was a surprise to everyone because my mother knew how to hide me well until my father's arrival but, as that didn't happen, I couldn't stand it any longer and made my triumphant appearance on my grandfather's favorite bushes. Uncle Morfin was furious and even tried to get rid of me immediately, but my mother clung to me like a lioness.

“Really?”

“Really," he replied with a broad smile, "I think a part of her was still holding on to my father showing up at some point and getting us out of there, but again that didn't happen. Mom had to endure her brother and father's abuse for me and that's a debt I can never repay”

The whole table fell silent, thinking. Dinner continued as a heavy thunderstorm rumbled overhead, accompanying old Tim Grant's story as if it were yesterday. The man paused to eat and the others did the same with no desire to miss a word. Harry's eyes sparkled in wonder and Mr. Weasley's strong hand on yours helped to soothe your fervent anguish.

“I guess that's what mothers do, isn't it? Anyway, the years passed and I had to live under uncle Morfin's shadow and at the mercy of his growing wrath. When I turned five I started helping the market men with their chores in exchange for a couple of pounds which we had to exchange later for galleons and sickles to survive for two weeks. Mom helped bring money into the house, but it wasn't enough. Then, at seven, the Dream Messengers showed up one night telling me I was required to study at the Uagadou magical college in Africa so I couldn't refuse”

“Wait, Uagadou takes students from the age of seven?”

“Oh I see," the man settled back in his chair, wiping the corners of his lips with a napkin as he stared at Ron, "I forgot that the rest of the magical schools aren't very well known around here, are they? Well, yes, some schools take in very young students as is the case with Uagadou or the Japanese school. It depends a lot on the traditions in each region i guess, because in the African school they select only descendants of alchemists or who have had at least someone  in their bloodline whose spirituality helped them to become one. It wasn't all as easy as that, of course, because each student had to pass a test before having a permanent stay, but....

“What kind of test?” Harry questioned when dinner was over and they start dessert. The twins were the first to help themselves a piece of fruit, playing with the chocolate fountain in the center of the table.

“One that only wizards with alchemist ancestry could pass, Mr. Potter. I passed the test so I had no choice but to move to the castle immediately. I didn't want to leave my mother alone, but she convinced me to do it. Going to Uagadou was a great opportunity for me and for her cause it meant I could follow in my father's footsteps” Tim's face suddenly darkened as he pushed away the overflowing plate of fruit Molly offered him. He folded his hands on the table and thought for a long moment. The twins continued to play with the chocolate fountain but a fierce look from their mother made them stop. Then Tim Grant sighed, wiping the sweat from his brow with the handkerchief on his coat “I regret that decision to this day. I could have gone to Hogwarts like any other wizard, but I suppose my ambition got the better of me. Maybe... if I hadn't left Little Hangleton she never would have met Tom Riddle”

You tensed as you felt the pressure of Mr. Weasley's hand on yours a little too tightly. One glance at the others was enough to understand the dread the name struck their nerves. You even caught a glimpse of the hiss on Molly's lips and saw the sting in Harry's scar. Tim let out a chuckle, taking another drink from his wine glass.

“My brother’s father. I didn't hear from him until a couple of years later, when my mother wrote to me saying that uncle Morfin was in Azkaban and that my grandfather had died. She didn't give me many details, however, she did very vaguely mention the presence of a muggle who was quite striking to her. For better or worse, my mother was already forgetting my father, believing that he had abandoned her or, at worst, that he had dropped dead somewhere in France. I didn't believe the same, but it was logical that she got tired of waiting. I would never have grown tired, at least not having loved the way they did”

Your gaze rolled to meet Bill's eyes as he looked back at you. He smiled at you, causing you to blush. Then you both looked back at your grandpa who was sipping a new glass of wine.

“It was a couple more years before I stopped hearing from my family. Mom never wrote again and with uncle Morfin in Azkaban there was nothing that could be done. When I was eleven i returned to Little Hangleton only to find that my mother had married Tom Riddle, got pregnant and he had thrown her out on the street like a dog. She was left with nothing, unable to return to her father’s old house, and was forced to wander in the streets for months, until one rainy december night she went into labor in the middle of an alley. I helped her as much as I could, dragged her to the door of an orphanage where my mother no longer even had the strength to save the three of us. She had her wand in her hand, but she never used it. She gave up in front of me, the baby was born and asked me to name him after his father. She put him in my arms, the door of the orphanage opened, but mother had already died”

“Grandpa-”

“As you can understand, it's kind of hard for me to remember all that," Tim Grant's reddened eyes closed, choking back tears, "I was just a little kid taking care of a baby and I didn't do my best job of raising him. I was upset with my mother for a long time after she died, but I don't judge her now. After living an almost totally miserable life, my mother had no hope and not enough courage to make her want to keep trying, even for the sake of her newborn son. That decision had a considerably negative impact on Tom's psyche as he was growing up I suppose cause I had to go back to school and I couldn't take him with me, I would have! Of course I would have. I tried, but Tom wasn’t descended from any alchemist and there was nothing I could do about that. I tried, Merlin knows I did. I felt the need to leave him in that orphanage. I visited him whenever I could. For a year I went back and forth from continent to continent to see him, but that wasn't enough for Tom to grow up feeling loved. Orphanage life is hard, dear friends, we shouldn’t judge others too harshly, much less a lonely mother” Tim Grant's irritated eyes were fixed on Harry, reflecting deep pain “She was weakened by her long suffering and she never had Lily Evans’ courage. Everyone sacrifices for those they love in different ways, and my mother did it in her own way”

“Why didn't you ever talk about this?” you asked from across the table. Everyone looked at you “when dad asked you so-”

“Your father didn't need any more reasons to support Tom's follies” Tim shook his head “My brother is a very convincing person not only with his family members but with anyone who gets in the way of his plans. He has a very affiliated serpentine tongue, he inherited the gift of gab from our ancestors and your father grew up under his influence”

“We're very sorry for what you had to go through, Tim, but there's nothing that can be done about you-know-who and all that's left for us to do is to fight him”

“I understand, Arthur, but that doesn't stop me from blame myself. I did what I could, but an eleven-year-old can't take the place of his parents. When I graduated from school and wanted to take care of him Tom was already at Hogwarts and completely disappeared from everyone's eye," he lamented, scrunching his eyelids together, "That was the last time I saw him as the real Tom and not the ghastly grayish mass he is now”

The twins and Ron laughed at the comment and were immediately silenced by their father. Tim scrunched up his eyes, took a breath and let out a laugh looking around the room.

“Well, enough whining, that's not what you guys are here for, is it?” Bill, that had kept silent, denied when the man turned to see him, "What's done is done, and lamenting won't do any good, but I hope that what I've just told you will help you to see Tom's human side if he still has it, which I doubt it very much”

“Thank you, sir”

“You're welcome, Harry, dear, well? What was you wanted to tell me, my boy?”

Tim Grant turned his full body towards Bill, almost climbing up on the table fixing his huge opaque eyes on Bill's. Bill held his gaze noticing that the man was drunk since the beginning of the evening. He looked to you for help, but you were too busy watching Mrs. Weasley's reaction to hearing the reason for your visit.

“Come on, boy, don't be shy”

“I... well, I wanted to-”

“Oh, Arthur, your son is so cute!” he shouted as he squeezed Bill's cheeks. His brothers and Harry laughed and even Molly hid a mischievous smile by putting a piece of apricot in her mouth “Poor frightened boy. But, come on! I'm not going to make it harder for you, I know you're here to ask for my granddaughter's hand in marriage, aren't you?”

“Yes, that's right, sir”

“Well, that's a great gesture of you, but this is a job for (Y/N)’s parents”

“It is, but you understand that under such circumstances we couldn't pay a courtesy visit to the Death Eaters," Arthur interjected with an amused smile.

“Indeed”

“So...”.

“So..." repeated Tim. You sighed, "You love my granddaughter?

“Yes, sir”

“How much?”

“A lot”

“Are you going to protect her, take care of her, and love her?”

“With my life, sir”

“Your life is not enough for me, William” Tim smiled at him, tapping Bill's chin with one of his fingers “My granddaughter is still a Grant, descended from very powerful wizards. My hand will not tremble to revenge the suffering you put her through, am i being clear?”

“Y-yes, sir. Crystal clear”

“Good boy," he replied, patting his cheek. Then he turned to Molly, took her hand and kissed the back of it, giving her a beautiful smile. The woman blushed, but it didn't last long because the man turned to her husband and bowed his head in respect. Arthur pressed your hand on the table and also kissed the back of your hand, making a promise “Well, then. Arthur, your son has my blessing to marry my granddaughter”

Mr. Weasley raised his glass, offering it to Tim.

“Thank you, Tim. We promise to take care for (Y/N) as a member of our family”

“I hope so." The man rested his chin on his hands, watching the huge smile form on your lips and kissing Arthur's cheek. He turned to Molly lightly patting her shoulder offering her a sweet roll which she accepted with a giggle “It's nice to see you accepting my (Y/N) so well” Molly wrinkled her nose “Since who she is and coming from a family as complicated as ours...it was hard for me to believe that someone from the outside could fall in love with her someday. I always knew my little girl was different from everyone” Tim's brown irises clouded over. Molly fell silent “You could put her in a basket of rotten apples and she'd make them blossom, so I'm glad to hear you've taken her in as one of yours. Being a Grant is a very complicated task, i never had a problem with people speaking shit about me, i was never ashamed to be recognized as Lord Voldemort's brother, but my yoke should not fall on my granddaughter” Molly Weasley listened carefully “I have always been a faithful supporter of being judged individually and not by the others actions, that would be like punishing children for their parents mistakes, wouldn't it? That wouldn't be fair and it wouldn't make us any less guilty than my brother, isn't that what he’s doing? Punishing Muggle-born wizards just because they weren't born under Merlin's blessing? I like you, Molly, I know you understand.

A pain in her chest made her look down, embarrassed. But then Tim lifted her chin at just the right moment for her to catch the moment her son rose from his place to walk over to you and lock you in a breath-stealing hug. Arthur was at your side watching you and then his attention focused on his wife giving her a beaming smile, the kind she hadn't seen in a long time. Even the rest of their children had joined in the celebration and Harry rose to congratulate you while you and Bill happily sealed your engagement with a kiss. Tim moved Molly's chin towards him, their gazes colliding.

“Yes," Molly whispered, "I understand.

“Good” Tim let out a laugh, pulling away from Molly to toast. The woman watched you as she smiled thinly ”Then my story was useful somehow”

Tag list:

@purple-vodka-99

@vampirestrawberries​

@accio-remus-lupin

@pennyllanne

[gretavanfleetlife]

Only Time Will Tell:

Chapter 8

AN: Hey guys, it’s sooo good to be back!😊Sorry for such a long wait for this chapter, I was on vacation. Anyway y’all are gonna need to pace yourself with this one, it’s double the usual chapter length and so much is happening!!! Love you all, thank you so much for your support, enjoy!💛🌻

Warnings: swearing

Word count: 4,700 words (lol oops)

Officially, it's been exactly one month since your best friends left Frankenmuth. You steadily raise a thick black pen up to your calendar and mark an 'X' through today's date. Your eyes skim through the rest of the month, landing on a date with a large red circle around it. You stare at it for a moment before gazing back at today's date and lifting your finger to count the number of days between today and the circled date. 12. You count again, hoping you counted one more than you should have. Still 12.

You toss the pen onto your desk and turn to skim through your record collection. Your fingers land on Bob Dylan, and you give a loose smile at the esteemed man on the album cover, who smiles back. Placing the needle carefully onto the record, you then cross your bedroom and collapse into a comfy, blue beanbag chair. You close your eyes and listen to the record spin. You remain perfectly still throughout the entire record, humming along to the dreamlike tune. You only open your eyes when you hear the record stop, the needle lifting itself upwards and returning to its resting place. You let out a heavy sigh.

"God bless Bob Dylan, a true legend," you smile, repeating Josh's timeless saying. You miss him terribly. You begin to wonder if he's been thinking about you as much as you've been thinking about him.

You lean your head back and stare mindlessly out the window. You consider sending Sam a text but quickly decide against it. Since he's left, you've been texting Sam almost every day, earning a harsh wave of guilt every time that you did.

The only other person you wanted to talk to more than Sam was Josh, but that wasn't going very smoothly either. You've tried calling Josh multiple times throughout the month, but each time the phone would loudly ring until you were eventually sent to voicemail.

You shift uncomfortably on the beanbag chair beneath you, feeling complete boredom rain over you. You've been bored all month without them, you just didn't know what to do. Only two weeks to go, less than that even. You know you'll survive for 12 more days, but their arrival seems to be taking an eternity.

You decide to try and call Josh again, dialing his number effortlessly. You listen eagerly to the phone ring against your ear. With each ring, your hope of an answer increasingly fades. The last ring chimes brightly as the phone gives a final effort to reach Josh before you're sent to his voicemail. You listen to you and Josh recite his voicemail that you recorded together years ago. A faint smile tugs at your lips, hearing Josh's joyful voice as well as your own encouraging you to leave a message at the tone. You sink further back into the chair with a sigh. He probably just doesn't have his phone with him again, as usual. Josh never likes to carry his phone with him, you recall optimistically.

You decide to try calling again in a few days, tossing your phone lazily onto the bed across your room. You try to remember a time before now that you've gone this long without talking to Josh, but you can't seem to think of one.

You miss him terribly. You miss watching the adorable pair of dimples appear on his face when you make him smile, how his eyebrows furrow when he concentrates on something, and how he always looks after you and puts you before himself.

You close your eyes, hoping with your entire heart that he's not ignoring you on purpose as you drift slowly out of consciousness.

-Sam's POV-

It's been a month since the last time I saw y/n, the last time I talked to her in person, and the last time I touched her. I'm certain that I would have gone crazy by now if it hadn't have been for our consistent texting. The one thing that keeps me from wanting to give up on the tour entirely and go back home is the promise she made me. She said she's gonna wait for me, and as long as that's true I'm willing to wait a little longer. I've been waiting for her for years, and although it still hurts, another couple weeks won't kill me.

I raise the bottle to my lips and take another long sip of beer, gazing up at my brother seated across from me. I need to know what's going on with Josh. The way he speaks to me is different now, although I can barely even explain it. He doesn't look me in the eyes as much when he talks to me, and our conversations are often much shorter than normal. When we're not recording or performing, he makes up excuses to be away from me, and they're fairly easy to see through. I've brought it up to Jake, and he seems to know much more about what's going on with Josh than I do. It's possible that Josh may have told him all about whatever's got him in this mood, although I have a pretty strong gut feeling it's just their twin telepathy thing. Either way, Jake hasn't told me why Josh is acting so weird, he's only told me not to bother him about it.

The four of us sit in our new trailer in peaceful silence. Josh and Danny share one couch while Jake and I lounge on the one opposite them. Josh is seemingly very busy writing music, scribbling down lyrics while he concentrates on the notebook gripped tightly in his hands. Jake downs the last of his beer with one swift raise of his arm. He stands up rather unsteadily from his seat beside me and announces that he's going to bed. Danny seconds Jake's actions, saying a quick goodnight and following him to the bedroom in the back of the cramped trailer. Calling it a bedroom is a stretch by any means, though, since its really only four pullout couches divided from the rest of the trailer by a thin curtain. Danny slides the curtain closed behind him and soon you hear both boys flop heavily onto their beds.

I steal a glance at my brother. Josh doesn't seem to notice that he's alone with me, or if he does he doesn't care. His focus doesn't break as he thoughtfully pours lyrics onto the busy page, his eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration. I relax backward into the soft couch, quietly taking another long sip of my beverage.

Another ten minutes go by and there hasn't been a single word exchanged between Josh and I. Normally, this is a scenario I have only ever dreamed of, causing me to feel slightly uneasy in the somewhat tense silence. I decide to let him finish writing without interruption, not wanting to distract him from writing a potential masterpiece.

Gentle snoring cuts through the silence of the trailer, coming from behind the far curtain. I can tell with complete certainty that the noise is coming from both Danny and Jake.

Looking up at Josh, I watch as he gently closes his notebook and places it on the coffee table along with his dull pencil. He leans back and sinks into the couch, lifting a hand to his mouth and softly tracing his lips in a steady contemplation. Josh's phone suddenly begins to vibrate on the small wooden table in front of him. His face falls into a frown as he leans forward to read the name of who is calling him this late at night. I watch his face fall as he reaches out, grabbing the phone and staring at it. Josh hesitates for a moment, and then slowly taps the screen. The vibrating stops and he shoves the phone quickly into his pocket. He leans further back into the couch and crosses his arms.

"Who was that?" I ask quietly, breaking through his dazed thoughts as he raises his head in attention.

"Mm?” he grunts, keeping his arms crossed while his fingers continue to gently trace over his lips.

"Who was that calling you," I repeat. Josh shakes his head and looks downwards.

"Oh just y/n, I'll call her back later," he says unconvincingly. He begins to stand up but I cut him off.

"Josh, can I talk to you for a minute?" I ask hopefully. Josh slowly descends back into his seat.

"Uh, sure I guess. What about?" he shrugs. I place my beer bottle on the coffee table next to the tattered notebook and lean forward, resting my arms on my knees.

"Well, first I wanted to know why you've been ignoring all of y/n's calls," I wonder, noticing Josh's shoulders tense in anticipation, "It's been, what, a month now? Have you talked to her once since we left home?" Josh stares steadily into my eyes, seemingly hesitant on how to answer.

"N-no, I haven't," Josh stumbles, glancing at the floor. His eyebrows furrow as his gaze returns to meet mine, "but that's really not any of your business, Sam. I strongly advise you to leave this alone." I give a small laugh, unable to prevent it from escaping my lips.

"Oh, I'm pretty sure whatever's going on is my business too. Listen, Josh, I just want to help you get over whatever this is," I say, motioning to him, "that's all."

"Get over what?" he prods, crossing his arms and leaning back.

"Well for starters, you're ignoring your best friend, avoiding your brothers, including Danny, and for a month you haven't held a conversation with me that's lasted more than five minutes. Should I keep going? Or do you have an idea of what's going on now," I ask sarcastically, frustrated at how difficult Josh is being. He knows damn well how different he's been acting. God, Josh can be so fucking annoying sometimes.

"You have no fucking clue what you're talking about Sam," Josh spits, pointing at me angrily.

"Oh yeah? Enlighten me," I respond crossing my arms and trying my best to appear relaxed. Growing up with Josh has taught me exactly how to get under his skin just enough to make him confess anything.

"Alright fine Sam, if this is what you want, then here it is," he begins, his eyes narrowing and the muscles in his jaw clenching. My tactics seem to have worked, as I notice Josh speaking faster, concentrating less on what is actually coming out of his mouth. However, what I hear next disrupts my relaxed facade.

"Before we left, y/n told me all about how she feels towards you. Obviously, she's had a rough past dating experience so I didn't want her to get hurt again. Especially by some ignorant prick who's about to leave on tour for a month and a half," Josh says firmly, his voice raising the more he proceeds. I sit unable to move, shocked at the words that come flying out his mouth. "So I told her," Josh pauses dramatically. The way Josh edges me on makes me furious, but I manage to hold back my raging emotions.

"Told her what?" I ask, knowing it's what he wanted to hear, but feeling too eager to refrain from asking.

"I told her not go after you," he admits. I feel my face turn hot with anger, "in fact I asked her to promise me that she wouldn't go near y-"

"And what did she say?" I cut him off. His face visibly saddens.

"She agreed to the promise," he remembers quietly, as my heart sinks low into my chest. Everything makes so much more sense now, but Josh isn't finished. "And she broke that promise, but you already knew that," he says, shaking his head as I lower my gaze to the floor. Josh was talking much more quietly now, the former anger replaced by sadness as he recalled what had happened. "And that isn't even the worst part," he continues, seemingly lost in the memory to care whether he was telling me too much, "what hurt the most was when she told me nothing happened with you, again, and again, and again, right to my face. It hurt me. It really did," he stares across the room at me, "is that what you wanted to hear?" I swallow hard, not wanting to meet his gaze. He runs his hands across his face with a heavy sigh. Josh attempts to stand up but I cut him off again.

"Josh wait, hear me out," he pauses briefly before returning to his seat across from me. I meet his sad eyes with my own, "listen, you know me, better than most people. Do you really think that I would treat y/n like shit?" I ask, silently hoping that he'll say no. Josh opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. He quietly shakes his head, and I know that I've gotten through to him.

"Look, I'm sorry that had to happen. You can hate us both for being together, or try and break us apart," I continue, "but I love her, and that's all I'm really concerned about."

-Time skip: 12 days later-

-Y/N's POV-

You wake up with a start, excitedly checking your phone for the time and reading 10:53 a.m. glare brightly back. You went to bed extremely late last night, unable to fall asleep due to the anticipation of your friends coming home the next day. You throw your comforter off of you and swing your legs around to sit up on the side of your bed. You stretch happily and let out a loud yawn. You decide to make a trip to the record store to buy some 'welcome home' presents for the boys. You change quickly and hurry outside toward the black pickup truck parked in your driveway. You hop in the vehicle and back out of the driveway, turning on the radio to your favorite rock and roll station. You hear the ending of 'Sympathy for the Devil' fill the silence of your car. Once the song finishes, the upbeat voice of the radio announcer fills the car.

"Alright, Frankenmuth, up next is a new song by a local and upcoming rock and roll band, Greta Van Fleet!" You gasp loudly as a familiar guitar riff fills the air. You crank up the volume as loud as the speakers will allow, singing along loudly to 'Highway Tune' as you speed down the gravel road and enter the town. A huge smile graces your face as you pull into the driveway of Siren Records. You park the car but remain seated until the song finishes, giving an excited squeal as the song fades to silence and the radio announcer returns.

You happily hop out of your car and enter the record store with a new skip in your step. Your mind feels extremely crowded with everything that's going on, but you still know exactly what you want to get for each of the boys. You're as familiar with their individual music tastes as you are with the back of your hand. Searching through the endless bins of records, you find your gift for Josh with ease, proudly picking up Nashville Skyline by Bob Dylan and tucking it under your armpit. As you continue to skim through the dusty records, you feel a vibration in your pocket. You reach for your phone and see who's calling you.

"Oh my god," you mumble, your eyes wide with anticipation. You fumble with your phone, almost dropping it as you accept the call and raise it quickly to your ear, "hello?"

"Hey y/n, it's me," Josh answers, his voice sounding deep and raspy through the phone. You've missed the sound of his voice the most, his greeting bringing a genuine smile to your face.

"Hey, Josh-" you begin before abruptly cutting yourself off. By habit, you almost called him 'Joshie', which you know would not have gone well judging by the last conversation the two of you had. He clears his throat into the phone, pausing for a moment. You grip the phone tightly as you hear muffled mumbling in the background.

"So I just wanted to ask how it's going, uh, back home," he wonders aloud.

Placing down your record momentarily, you make your way outside of the record store so as not to bother anyone inside with your private conversation.

"Well, it was incredibly boring without you," you smile, "Frankenmuth has never been so quiet." Josh laughs into the phone, and you feel your heart begin to beat faster. The sound is like music to your ears, you've missed making him laugh. You picture familiar dimples gracing his cheeks as his mouth tugs into a wide grin.

"That sounds dreadful," he chuckles.

"It was," you agree, "so when do you think you'll be home?"

"Around another half hour or so, I'd say," he estimates, making your heart flutter at the thought of their arrival.

"Oh that's fantastic, see you then!" you smile, feeling exhilarated and over the moon with joy, "bye Joshie!" You clap a hand over your mouth as you realize what you just called him. You close your eyes, bracing yourself for his response.

"Bye y/n, see you soon," he laughs before hanging up. You let out a huge sigh of relief as you shove your phone back into your pocket, thankful that he didn't scold you for using his nickname again.

A hand taps you on the shoulder, breaking you out of your daze as you turn around to see who it is. Your eyes gaze upward to meet Ethan's, as you force a smile onto your face. You were hoping to avoid him until school started up again, not wanting to interact with him after watching him make out with another girl at Josh's party.

"Hey! It's good to see you," you lie. Being friendly seems to be the quickest way through this conversation.

"Yeah, you look great," he says, visibly checking you out as you cross your arms in front of yourself in a weak attempt to stop his wandering eyes.

"Thanks," you say, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. You go on to talk about what you both have been doing this summer for a while longer, as you patiently wait for your conversation to end.

"So, uh," Ethan proceeds warily, "did you happen to get my text? I sent it to you a while ago, like, a couple of days after Josh's party or something like that." You frown and shake your head.

"No, I must not have seen it. Sorry about that, I'm just never really on my phone that much," you reply apologetically. That was a total lie as well, as you had definitely noticed that you had received a few texts from him a while back, but decided not to answer.

"No worries, I just wanted to tell you that I think you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen," Ethan continues, taking a step towards you. He's standing so close to you now that you can almost feel his breath. You look down at your feet to refrain from rolling your eyes at his comment. You feel his hand lightly lift your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. He quickly closes the gap between you and leans in to kiss you. Before his lips can meet yours, you swiftly take a step away from him, stumbling backward. You weren't about to break another promise, the last one was bad enough. You look up at him with a look of insincere apology.

"I-I'm in a relationship," you hear yourself say. It seems like the easiest way out of the situation. His eyebrows furrow as he glares at you with confusion.

"Oh," Ethan sighs, "with who?" Your eyes widen and your heart begins to beat faster.

"Sam Kiszka," you blurt, feeling a familiar blush creep onto your cheeks as you realize what you just said out loud. You watch Ethan roll his eyes.

"Come on, really?" You frown and furrow your eyebrows as he shakes his head, "I'm way better looking than that guy." A sharp laugh escapes your lips as you smile up at him.

"Yeah right, have you seen Sam?" you say as Ethan's face falls, "you wish you even came close," you scoff, turning on your heel and walking back towards the record store. You swing open the door with a smirk plastered onto your face, finding where you left your Bob Dylan record and resuming your search.

After a few more minutes of skimming through the dusty bins, you settle on The Beatles' Revolver for Danny, Hot Rocks by the Rolling Stones for Jake, and none other than Van Morrison's Moondance for Sam.

After you pay, you hop back into your truck and check the time. The boys should arrive home any minute now, so you begin to drive back towards the Kiszka house. You want to see them as soon as you can, so you don't waste any time as you quickly speed down the dusty dirt road.

Pulling into their driveway, you park your car and wait for their van to drive in beside you.

Another ten minutes pass, feeling like an eternity before you see their van roll up to the house and park beside you. You jump out of your truck and run over to theirs just as Josh steps out of the passenger seat. In the moment, you forget all about your fight, immersed only in feeling ecstatic that Josh is home. You rush towards him and throw your arms around his neck. He doesn't hesitate to hug you tightly against himself in return.

"I missed you so fucking much," you say into his shirt as he grasps you tighter.

"I missed you too," he replies, pulling back while keeping his hands on your shoulders, "but don't think I'm not still pissed," he says with a smirk.

"I know, talk later, okay?" you ask hopefully. Josh smiles and nods.

"Okay," he agrees.

"What are we, chopped liver?" Jake says, causing you to tear your eyes away from Josh and walk towards him with your arms outstretched. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you in for a hug, rubbing your back gently.

"You didn't forget about me, did you?" he whispers in your ear, hugging you close to him.

"Of course not, are you kidding?" you grin. Suddenly, your hug is disrupted by Danny pushing Jake away from you.

"What the fuck," Jake chuckles, as Danny wraps his muscular arms around you tightly, forcing you into a soft hug.

"Shut up, it's my turn," he answers loudly as you laugh against his chest.

"It's good to see you, y/n," Danny beams as you hug him tighter in response.

He lets go of you and you turn towards Sam. Your heart flutters as you stare at him, admiring his seemingly flawless features. He looks even better than you remember as he closes the distance between you.

"Hey," he says awkwardly as you wrap your arms around his torso. He hugs you back, enveloping his arms around you and nuzzling his face into your neck. You close your eyes and smile into his chest in a state of total serenity.

"I missed this," he mutters quietly into your neck, too muffled for anyone but you to hear it, "I missed you." You feel butterflies swarm in your stomach and your heart skip a beat.

"I missed you too," letting out a content sigh and pulling out of the hug. You gaze at each other for a moment, both of you admiring the other. You hear Jake clear his throat, causing you to tear your eyes away from Sam and look towards the abrupt noise. The three boys were standing a few feet away, smiling at you and Sam. You blush, trying to think of a way to divert their focus from you two.

"Oh, I almost forgot, I have presents!" you say enthusiastically, heading to your car to hide your rosy cheeks. The boys exchange low murmurs of excitement in anticipation of receiving their gifts. You grab the records from your car and skip back to the group. You hand them out and smile as you watch each of their faces light up.

"No way!" Danny says as you hand him his. "Alright I've gotta hear this," he says as he gives you a quick hug and rushes inside to find a record player.

"Me too," Jake and Sam say in unison, hurrying to catch up with Danny.

"Thanks, y/n!" Sam calls while he runs into the house with Jake. You laugh at their reactions as you realize you're left alone Josh. You glance over at him, watching him study the album cover of his new record.

"You like it?" you ask as he quickly looks up at you with a wide grin, soft dimples appearing on his cheeks.

"You know I love it, thank you y/n," he says, but his smile soon fades, "can we go somewhere to talk?" You nervously scratch the back of your head.

"Of course," you reply. You follow him as he leads you to the backyard, each of you taking a seat on the porch steps overlooking the forest beyond their property. At first, neither of you speak, both of you gazing thoughtfully at each other not seeming to know where to begin. You both decide to break the silence and begin to speak at the same time. You apologize and Josh gives a small laugh.

“You can go first,” he speaks gently. You suck in a sharp breath and begin to explain yourself to him, apologizing every now and then. You tell him that although you may not deserve his trust, you are going to be nothing but honest with him from now on. Fiddling with your hands, you go on to say that you still like Sam, but you’re unsure what that would mean for everyone else.

You speak for a long time, words that you longed to say while Josh was gone pouring out of you without restraint. Josh stares attentively at you the whole time, listening to everything you have to say without interrupting. You finish speaking with a sigh and look up at him nervously. He smirks at you.

“Are you done?” he asks gently. You nod, swallowing sharply as he raises a hand to his face, tracing over his lips with his fingers softly. He gives a small sigh and looks to the ground, seemingly deciding where to begin.

“While we were gone, I talked to Sam,” he says steadily. Your heartbeat quickens and you anxiously bite your lip. “I gave it a lot of thought, and I realized that I haven’t been completely fair. I didn’t realize how much you mean to him,” he continues, your heart fluttering in your chest, “and come to think of it, if I loved someone as much as Sam loves you, I might have done the same thing.” He pauses, looking up at you with a small smile.

“And although I don’t think I’ll ever understand how you can find that freak appealing,” he says, causing both of you to laugh, “I do know that he’ll treat you right,” he smiles. You stand and move towards him, reaching down to him and hugging him tightly.

“I love you so much, thank you, Josh,” you grin, your eyes shut tightly as he accepts your embrace. He stands with you as you pull away, turning to walk with him back to the house.

“As long as you’re happy,” he grins at you, throwing his arm loosely over your shoulder. “But if you ever lie to me again-" he laughs, wagging a finger at you as you cut him off.

“I promise I won’t, under one condition,” you smirk, causing him to stop walking and look down at you with confusion.

“And what’s that?” he asks.

“I get to call you Joshie,” you say as he laughs loudly, mimicking your wide smile.

“Deal.”

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[i-am-bi-not-gonna-lie]

(1/5) This is really long, I'm sorry. My best friend (I'm going to call her Sally) has liked me since September and she told me around December. I was in a relationship with a guy (I'm going to call him Matt) from October-February. Sally and I are both bisexual. Towards the end of my relationship with Matt I started noticing my feelings for Sally. I think my feelings for Sally were there for a long while but I either didn't notice or ignored them due to my relationship with Matt. About a month

(2/5) or so ago, I told Sally I liked her. For about a week we were cuddling in school and holding hands and flirting over text and stuff and it was amazing. Then her parents found out she was bi (this was about 2 weeks ago). Her parents, especially her mom, are extremely homophobic, to the point where they slapped her and smashed her phone when they found out. Her mom won't even watch the new beauty and the beast movie because there's a gay character in it. (3/5) Her mom sent me a very harsh, harassing message (the night they found out) telling me to stay away from her and basically blaming me for Sally being bi. For a while we weren't even allowed to speak to each other. She had to tell her mom that she got her feelings confused and that she's just confused and she's not bi because her mom told her that if she gets that angry again she might die (her mom has high blood pressure). Sally knows her mom manipulated her(4/5) into telling her what she wanted to hear but she's afraid to tell her mom the truth because of that now. So she's hiding such a big part of her from them and lying to them. We're allowed to hang out in school (but not outside school yet) and we're allowed to talk and hug. We have both talked about how we feel so we know how each other feels and we're both waiting cause there's a slight chance we might be able to be together later on. We just want to be together and make (5/5) each other happy and we can't because her mom. It's so frustrurating, for both of us, loving someone so much and wanting to be with someone this bad and not being able to. Her mom liked me before she found out I was bi. I don't even have bad intentions, it's honestly just cause I'm a girl. I just want to make her happy, cuddle her, be with her, and love her and I can't and I hate it. Again, I'm sorry about the length. I know there's not much I can do, but do you have any advice?I'm sooo sorry to hear about your situation, it sounds terrible :( I think you both need to just take each day as it comes and just make sure Sally is safe. Just be there for each other no matter what happens and stay open with each other. I know what it's like to love someone but not be able to be with them and it is sooooo horrible but it honestly just takes time and it will start to become easier and the situation will keep adjusting so you just have to work through it together. I wish you guys the best of luck xx