#ask; dreamcxtcherr

[spxllcxstxr]

dw bestie I have a crush on you <3

This is great news bestie because I also have a crush on you jdjdjdns

Thank you sm Lena ❤️🥺

[drawlfoy]

pink in the night P.1

masterlist series masterlist request guidelines

pairing: hufflepuffmuggleborn!reader x draco

summary: when y/n y/l/n starts having weird, recurring dreams about her long time unrequited crush in her 6th year, she begins to wonder where fantasies end and reality begins. 

(based on a request from anon asking for a fic about a hufflepuff reader, who had been average in hogwarts before she had a big glow up. i took many, many creative liberties with the plot, as you can clearly see in the summary).

warnings: canon-typical violence, mature language, nsfw content. read at your own risk!

a/n: so change of plans! i’m cutting part 1 in like..thirds. because it’s getting too fucking long. here’s part 1! apologies for how drawn out and slow part 1 is

tags

@writeandtranslate @sycathorn-slush @gruffle1 @missmultifandommess @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell @yiamalfoy @crystalox @dracoismybabey @dreamcxtcherr @decaffeinated-turtle @marrymetheonott @felicityofbakerstreet @daedreamss @sycathorn-slush @writeandtranslate @erisdogwood @loveissupernatural @sycathorn-slush @big-galaxy-chaos @lilyrachelcassidy

wc: 11.5k

here’s a playlist i made for this lol 

enjoy x 

They never told her about the muggleborn summers. 

Y/N had friends. It wasn’t like she didn’t have friends–at Hogwarts, at least. Terry Boot, Susan Bones, and Hannah Abbott consumed most of her waking hours back at school. She would hide out in the library with Terry when she felt an inclination to study, or frequent Honeydukes with Susan and Hannah when she was sick of hearing her token Ravenclaw friend prattle on about the chemical components of Firewhiskey or the cellular decomposition process of fermenting flubberworms. 

In short, she was happy at school, even if she knew that she was technically the lowest rung on the totem pole of Hogwarts popularity and importance. As a Hufflepuff, she was largely excluded in the fierce house rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin. As someone who never had a class with the famous Harry Potter and his crew, she completely missed out on the DA debacle in 5th year and only heard about the wild adventures of his group through the grapevine (and, occasionally, when things got buckwild: through the Daily Prophet). And, of course, as a muggleborn, she was hardly considered worth attention to anyone pureblood who knew about her blood status. 

Essentially, Y/N was more than aware of how little she participated in the Hogwarts student body. But she liked her world, small and quaint, just the way it was. She was not going to complain about the lack of excitement in her world.

But where her life at Hogwarts was cozy and contained, her life at home felt suffocating and constricting. It was tolerable over the winter holidays, as she managed to catch up with her extended family and exchange gifts with her loved ones, but the summer months were slow-moving and torturous. When she was younger, she was able to send out letters to her old friends by using a service called “Post-an-Owl”, utilizing her owl to drop her letter off at the muggle postal boxes to avoid any unnecessary confusion that would be sparked by her muggle friends seeing a giant bird delivering their mail. But now that technology was developing, her friends all communicated through ICQ, a new instant messaging service. Without any access to the World Wide Web, Y/N was, for lack of a better term, fucked. She had no idea how her friends were doing over the school year. 

Her friends had split apart, too, heading off to different 6th forms and preparing for university. Y/N was having trouble explaining her “international” boarding school fumbling for post-secondary education plans, listing a few random made-up schools in the States to satisfy the prying questions she received from them last summer. As she rode back home on the Hogwarts Express, all she could think about was how lonely she’d be until September 1st.

~

The days were blurring together, just like they always did when she was home. Lucille, Iris, and Dasha had spent the first few weeks unavailable as they winded down from GCSEs and generally planning, so Y/N had been left to her own devices. She drank tea, read her bookshelf, spent time with her parents, and tried hard to not think about her wand that was tucked away in her bottom dresser drawer. 

No one ever told her about how difficult it was to live without magic after you had spent the last 9 months basically surrounded by charms, hexes, and curses that permeated the very walls of her school. At home, the air was flat and quiet. There was nothing to spark her magic, nothing to give her an outlet for the storm brewing inside of her. 

At night, she fidgeted, looking down at her hands and wondering if it was only a matter of time until she had an accidental outburst like she so often did as a child. She imagined what it would be this time—maybe setting her precious bookcase on fire, or perhaps transfiguring the fly humming about her lamp into an eagle. 

Thankfully, nothing happened. Nothing ever did. Y/N was controlled, patient, and reserved. She had never benefited from losing control, taking risks, or acting on a whim like Harry Potter and the rest of his friends so often did. So, whenever she felt waves of energy rise up in her core, she’d take a breath, remember that she was effectively a muggle for the next few months, and relax. 

Lucille came to see her in the depths of July.

“You grew your hair out,” her oldest friend observed. They were sitting on her bed, waiting for their toenails to dry as they watched the clouds move by the window. 

“Do you think it suits me?” asked Y/N. “I just never got around to cutting it over the school year.”

Lucille hummed, reaching out to tug at her locks. A quick few pulls and twists later, and Lucille frowned, deep in thought. “It looks good, of course. But I think if you cut it right here…”

Still holding her hair up, Lucille carefully maneuvered herself so she was no longer blocking the eyeline between her and the mirror hanging up on the wall. Her hands precariously held the long locks of Y/N’s hair so they barely kissed her collarbone. A few strands escaped, spilling over her shoulder and sullying the image, but Y/N could see what she meant. “If you cut it this short, it would look really cool. In my opinion. You could maybe even add a little face framing in there.”

“Wow,” exclaimed Y/N. “You’re right. How did you know?”

“I just have an eye for that sort of thing.” Lucille let her hair fall back to its usual place, and Y/N found herself missing the lengthening effect that the shorter cut gave her neck. “My mum’s a hairdresser, you know. She would be happy to give your hair a little trim.”

“That’s very kind of her,” said Y/N, knowing that she would never take her up on the offer. Lucille’s mother worked at a fancy spa in London, one that her family wouldn’t dream of going to. She remembered seeing the prices once while she was waiting with her mother to pick up Lucille for a movie. Some services were hundreds of pounds. Hundreds to just cut the hair on her head? She shuddered to think about asking her family to shell out that much for, in Lucille’s words, “just a trim”.

“Really,” pressed Lucille, threading her fingers through Y/N’s hair yet again. “You’re a friend of mine. She’s just bought new hair shears and is raring to try them out.”

“I would love to, but I can’t ask my parents to pay her! And I’m saving up for the school year.”

Lucille shook her head, smiling. “No, silly. For free! I’ll give your landline a call after I talk to her and let you know what works for her.”

“I couldn’t possibly—”

“Yes you can!” Her friend was grinning now. “I hardly ever get to see you. And, to be entirely honest, you could use a little makeover montage.”

She bristled.

“I’m not saying you look bad,” clarified Lucille. “But you’re so pretty! You’ve grown up quite a bit and I think it’s time for you to unlock the REAL young adult Y/N. That is, if you feel like you haven’t ready. Do you have any interest in make-up or hair styling or anything?”

“Some,” said Y/N, though she wasn’t entirely sure what to say. In the Wizarding World, women and girls rarely wore any makeup. Instead, they used Glamours to charm their skin clear, their hair silky, and their legs hairless. She’d tried out a few, letting Susan go wild on her for the Yule Ball, but all the Glamours were so obvious, leaving a slight pearly sheen on her hair or her skin that she strongly associated with Pansy Parkinson, whose skin regularly resembled a muggle glow stick after her no doubt extensive morning routine. And the vibrant colors that she saw so often in magical beauty didn’t quite suit her. “I just don’t really know where to start, to be honest.” The idea of discovering her real, grown-up self was tempting but daunting. 

“Natural look, I’m assuming?”

“Yes,” said Y/N quickly. 

Lucille nodded, surveying her face with a surgical precision that made Y/N squirm. “Perfect. I’ll give you a call.”

~

A week and a few enthusiastic scissor chops later, Y/N was sitting on the floor of Lucille’s room as Lucille applied her makeup while Dasha and Iris gave a couple “ooh”s and “aah”s as needed.

“You have really nice bone structure,” said Iris from her position on Lucille’s bed. “You’ve really grown up since we all hung out last.”

“You all have too,” replied Y/N, trying not to flinch as a brush rubbed against her under eyes. “Tell me what’s been going on with you all! I’m so sorry I’m not able to message on ICQ.”

“It’s so fucking weird that your school doesn’t allow you to use the internet,” said Dasha. “Do you even know what’s happened between Iris and Justin?”

“What?!” Y/N stiffened. “Iris!”

The girl in question flopped onto the bedspread and moaned. “Shut up! I can’t keep talking about this anymore! It’s harrowing.”

“He cheated on her with Anne from Chemistry,” Dasha stage-whispered. “It was a whole ordeal.”

“Oh, god—”

“All done,” interrupted Lucille. “Did you see how I did your eyeliner?”

Y/N bobbed her head once, allowing herself to be turned towards the mirror to see her makeup. 

“What do you think?” Lucille asked.

She was stunned. It was like someone completely different was looking back at her, with wide, shimmering eyes and full lashes. Her skin was even and glowing, her lips slightly darkened. And, best of all, it didn’t look unnatural or forced. 

“It looks like me, but better,” admitted Y/N. The gentle hand used in applying the eyeliner made her eyes appear bigger in a way that her Glamours could never achieve. Her hair, shorter and shiny against her healthy looking skin, completed it. 

“I know, right!” Lucille exclaimed. “Do you want to go shopping? I used mostly drugstore stuff on you, so it’ll be cheap to do it yourself.”

~

By the time Y/N was packing up for Hogwarts, she was no longer feeling hopeless and lost. Yes, she was nearly vibrating from the excitement of using magic again, but she was centered this time. Along with taking her shopping to buy her makeup, Y/N had gone on a few shopping trips with the rest of her friends to get new clothes. Before Lucille had helped her with her hair and her makeup, she only paid attention to the robes she wore, slipping on anything she had on hand to wear underneath her yellow trimmed Hufflepuff school robes. On weekends, it was denim and a faded T-shirt or an old sweater if things were chilly. But Dasha and Iris were so excited to talk about the new muggle fashions, she couldn’t possibly deny a trip to the mall. 

Now, as she packed up her trunk, she found herself marvelling over the additions to her wardrobe. The new pieces she had found fit the new image of Y/N perfectly—the grown-up Y/N who was no longer an awkward 13 year old. 

Though the summer before her 6th year had occasionally been lonely and isolating, Y/N had discovered herself.

“You look different,” aptly observed Terry as she joined him in their train compartment. 

“It’s the hair,” said Susan, nodding towards Y/N. 

“It’s the clothes,” added Hannah. She reached out and tugged at the cuffed sleeve of Y/N’s button-up. 

“Maybe it’s Maybelline,” said Justin, the only other muggleborn Hufflepuff she knew, rolling his eyes. “Do we have nothing better to talk about?”

Eager to move on from the different way her male peers were looking at her, Y/N nodded. “Please. I can’t have everyone knowing my secrets.”

“I know what we can talk about,” said Susan, leaning forward so she could lower her voice. “Have you all heard about Malfoy?”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. “Who? Draco?” she said, oh so nonchalantly. 

“You don’t get the Prophet, do you?” asked Terry.

“No, I don’t.”

“Daddy Malfoy just got thrown into Azkaban,” said Justin, though he hardly seemed interested. “His trial was all anyone talked about over the summer. The Wizengamot came to a decision in the second week of August.”

Y/N tried not to feel too offended by the way he implied that she was stupid and informed. It was Justin, after all. He was always a bit of a pretentious tosser. “Oh! God, that’s awful.”

“Is it?” asked Terry, raising a brow. 

“I mean,” she fumbled, “Awful for Drac—Malfoy. That must suck to have his father thrown into prison. Azkaban, no less.” She was pretty sure her cheeks were tomato red at this point.

Terry shrugged. “Y/N, I don’t know. Luna told me that his father nearly killed her.”

“Merlin.” Y/N gulped. “Do any of you…have any extra copies of the Prophet? I can’t believe I haven’t read about this.”

Justin dug around in his satchel, finally producing a crumpled up ball. “This is the paper from the day he was sentenced.”

Y/N took it from him, gently pulling apart the pages until a wrinkled version of the Prophet lay in front of her. She took out her want and cast a quick flattening spell, watching a current iron out any remaining folds. 

Draco Malfoy’s face stared right back at her. He was on the front page, pictured with his mother. His mouth was fixed into a scowl and his eyes were blank as he stared into the camera, his face lighting up with flashes as other cameras scrambled to get a picture of the Malfoy heir and his mother. Behind him, Narcissa stood with her hand poised on Draco’s shoulder, one deep line appearing in her forehead.

Draco blinked once, a breeze briefly rising to tussle his hair. Then the photo repeated.

“What do you think?” Hannah asked, leaning over to read the article along with Y/N.

“Oh, very, er, wild,” said Y/N, hoping it wasn’t obvious that she’d just spent the past minute staring at the picture of Draco Malfoy loop over and over again. “I just can’t believe this is the world now.”

Hannah nodded solemnly. “I know!” 

She put the newspaper in her bag. Thankfully, Justin didn’t ask for it back. She was planning on digesting it later, in the privacy of her dorm room where she could stare at Draco without the prying eyes of her friends and the judgemental sniffs of Justin. “Thanks for the paper, Justin.”

He grunted in response. 

Someone rapped on the compartment glass.

“Ugh, Theo,” groaned Susan, though she plastered a smile on her face as the figure outside pushed open the door.

“Hey,” he said, propping his arm on the doorframe and grinning at her. His dark green tie flapped in the brief puff of air that accompanied the sliding of the door.

“Hey.” Susan swallowed.

Y/N felt like she was missing something. Had something happened between her and Nott? Is that why she was calling the Slytherin Theo now?

“I like your sweater,” Nott offered, his eyes flicking down to her chest in a way that was not very PG-13 rated. 

Susan blushed madly. “Er—thanks. I like yours.”

He wasn’t wearing a sweater, but he was wearing a shit-eating grin, and that was only growing. “Come sit with us?”

“In the Slytherin section?”

Nott shrugged, and the way she saw his muscles tense underneath his button-up made Y/N understand where Susan was coming from a bit more. “If you’d like.” He shifted his gaze, catching Y/N’s eyes. “Are you new?”

Terry snorted.

“No,” said Y/N, her mouth twisting into a frown. 

“Forgive me,” said Nott in response, holding his hands up in a surrender. “I’m proper shit at remembering faces.”

“I’ll go sit with you,” interrupted Susan, sitting upwards and gathering her things in a haphazard fashion that seemed rather uncharacteristic. Nott smirked and held the door open for her, whispering something into her ear as she brushed past him. 

“Did something happen between them?” asked Y/N once the door had shut and the pair was on their way to the Slytherin car.

Her friends shifted uncomfortably. Terry seemed like he was avoiding eye contact while Hannah picked at her cuticles. Justin was reading a book that he’d brought, clearly not participating. 

“Well…” Terry rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah.”

“Oh!” Y/N felt her heartbeat quicken once again. “Why didn’t she tell me?”

“She really wanted to,” explained Hannah, and her expression was open and genuine. “But when she owled me and Terry about Theo, she said that she wasn’t sure how to tell you. Since you’re muggleborn and he’s…well, he’s in that crowd. She was worried you’d be hurt.”

Y/N felt the briefest flicker of betrayal, but she supposed she understood where Susan was coming from. “Is he good to her?”

Terry shrugged. “I think so? They’re not official or anything. They just met at a pureblood function over the summer and apparently hit it off. He seems alright, actually.”

“That’s great!” said Y/N, though her mind was reeling. On one hand, she was slightly stung by the fact that her friend didn’t bother to tell her. She also felt keenly aware of the fact that his reputation of bigoted behavior towards people like her was not enough for her to turn him down. But on the other…She gulped. There was something thrilling about having a mutual connection with Draco. It was stupid, really. Nothing would ever come of it. But after 6 years, there was finally some weak merit behind her daydreams of meeting Draco and having an enlightening conversation at some party or gathering. 

But that was completely nuts. It’s not like he’d go to a Hufflepuff party. It’s not like she’d go to a Slytherin party either, no matter how desperately she wanted to satisfy that particular curiosity of hers. 

“If you see her before me, please tell her that I don’t mind,” added Y/N. The relief was visible on the faces of her friends. “I’m just sad she felt like she couldn’t tell me sooner. I’d understand, you know.”

Terry and Hannah sent her grateful smiles. 

After another hour or so of chatter and banter, they finally arrived. Y/N had long since donned her robes, pulling the black fabric with golden trim and tightening her Hufflepuff tie until she was satisfied with her appearance. There was something so satisfying about the way that her hair brushed her collar, its length lending it bounce and volume that had otherwise been absent. 

“Not to sound weird or anything,” said Hannah to her as they filed into the Great Hall, “But I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone look better at a Sorting Ceremony. Merlin, Y/N, you’re just glowing.”

She grinned back. She felt like she was glowing. 

But as they continued down the aisle, making their way towards the Hufflepuff table, Y/N began to feel a bit uncomfortable with how many people were looking at her. When she’d walk by a section of students, some would do double takes, gaping at her as she walked past. 

It made her nervous. 

“Is there something in my hair? Or on my face?” she whispered to Hannah.

Hannah smiled. “I don’t know what happened to you over the summer, but you just look different now. More yourself, or something. They’re probably just wondering who you are.”

“Only took them 6 years.” 

They slid onto the benches, readying themselves for the upcoming feast. As her friends began to joke and giggle around her, Y/N was sure of one thing: even if the rest of the student body was acting weird, at least she had them. 

~

“...and after Potions I have Divination, Runes, Transfiguration, and Defense Against the Dark Arts.” Y/N caught her breath after reciting her schedule, pacing the room she shared with Susan.

“All N.E.W.T level?” asked the roommate in question. 

“Yeah,” said Y/N. “I didn’t manage to get an O in Herbology, and Sprout told me that it’d be better for me to focus on my strengths.”

“Brutal,” replied Susan. “So we only have Potions together?” 

“I think so.” Y/N held up the parchment containing her schedule so it was lined up with Susan’s, confirming that their timetables were different. “Why are you taking N.E.W.T level Arithmancy? Do you hate yourself?”

Susan snorted. “I could say the same for you and Divination.”

“At least Divination is just ‘tell me what these tea leaves resemble’ and ‘explain how you can use palm lines to determine how likely it is that my cousin’s stubbed toe will heal in time for the next backyard Quidditch match.’ I don’t have to calculate the magnitude of the magical core of Saturn or whatever.”

“It’s really not that bad.”

“Whatever you say.” Y/N tossed her schedule on her new desk, shoving her trunk under her bed and surveying the room. “I guess that’s all I have to do tonight. I actually quite like our dorm this year. It’s more spacious than the last one.”

Susan hummed, but her eyes seemed far away.

“Is everything okay?” Y/N asked.

“Are you mad at me about Theo?” she finally asked.

Y/N blinked. “No. Not really. A little hurt that you didn’t tell me, but I guess I understand why.”

“I wanted to tell you so badly,” gushed Susan, seemingly checking back into the present. “I’m so sorry. I know I should have now, but I wanted to do it in person, and I know that your parents are weird about you going into the magical world over summer.”

“It’s alright,” said Y/N, and though there was a twinge of pain, she mostly meant it. “Is he nice? I never imagined that a Slytherin from that group would be.”

Susan nodded. “You’d be surprised. He’s actually really sweet.”

She went on about Nott and the precise details of their meeting and the conception of their situationship, and Y/N couldn’t help but wonder if this meant she could finally tell her best friend the secret that had been weighing on her since 4th year.

“Susan?” she asked, after her roommate had tired herself out having gone over the exact softness of Nott’s hair thrice. 

“Yeah?” Susan sat up, cocking her head. 

“I…” Y/N swallowed. She could feel her throat bob. “Well…”

“What’s up? Is something wrong?”

“No,” said Y/N quickly. “I just…If I tell you something, will you promise not to tell anyone? Like, when I say anyone, I mean even Terry and Hannah. No one can know.”

“You’re scaring me, Y/N,” said Susan. “But of course. It’ll be just between the two of us.”

“Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise.” Susan offered her an outstretched pinky finger and wiggled her eyebrows. “Now spit it out.”

“IhaveacrushonDracoMalfoy,” she mumbled.

Susan stilled. Her eyes widened a fraction. 

“And it’s really not that big of a deal,” Y/N added on, scrambling. “Like, it’s not like I have a lot of feelings for him or anything. I don’t even like him that much. It’s not even a crush, really. I just find him really, er, interesting. And I know it’s literally a pipe dream because he’s Draco Malfoy and I’m a muggleborn Hufflepuff but I’ve just been sitting on this for a long time now and I had to tell someone. So I can get over it, of course. Because he’s totally awful and not an option at all.”

The corner of Susan’s lip quirked. Y/N felt her heart lurch, sure that her friend was about to ridicule her for being so delusional that she managed to develop feelings for Malfoy. 

“Like I said,” she said, desperate to salvage the conversation, “It’s nothing important. Barely there, even, I’d wager. I don’t even know him. It’s silly, really. I don’t know why I told you this.”

“That does make sense,” mused Susan. 

“What?”

“I said, that makes sense,” repeated Susan, and Y/N was relieved to see that she didn’t appear angry. “Considering how you talk about him. How long?”

“Um…”

“How long?!”

“Since…well, since 4th year,” said Y/N, wishing their window was large enough for her to open it and pitch herself off the side of the castle. 

Susan’s eyebrows shot up. “Y/N! And you never told me?”

“I’m embarrassed by it,” Y/N admitted. “It’s a little masochistic, don’t you think? Local loser falls for the school bully?”

“Has he ever bullied you?”

“We’ve never even spoken,” said Y/N, quietly. 

“Oh.” Susan chewed on her bottom lip. “That does complicate things. Have you ever had a class together or something?”

“Not since 4th year,” she said. “I guess our schedules just didn’t line up.”

“So why do you like him?”

And Y/N told her.

December 25th, 1994

Y/N teetered on her heels as Terry spun her yet again, sweeping her off her feet and making her erupt into a fit of laughter. 

“You don’t need to do that,” she whispered into his ear between giggles. Terry really didn’t—the Bulgarian waltz only required the leading partner to turn with their partner, not pick them up off the ground and swing them about. 

Terry just grinned loosely down at her, his hand casually rested on her waist. His face was pinker than usual, probably because of the copious amount of Firewhiskey he’d managed to nab off of the upperclassmen. 

The two separated, in accordance with the waltz steps, turning around to face the dancer behind them.Y/N readied herself to do a simple waltz sequence around the room, but her confidence immediately wavered when she saw who was standing in front of her.

Draco Malfoy’s blond head dipped as he bowed, extending a hand. She curtsied, but her heart was thudding so hard that she was surprised that she didn’t trip and fall. It was probably from the exercise. Yes, she had just been sweating all over Terry as he picked her up and threw her about in the air. It had nothing to do with the pair of silver eyes trained on her.

He didn’t recognize her. He couldn’t have, not when he placed his hand on her waist and allowed her to take his hand without a single flinch. Malfoys were notorious for their blood prejudices. He probably thought that she was a half-blood Hufflepuff, like the near entirety of the Hogwarts student population. Muggleborns were rare, rarer than members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Unless he had known of her before, he had no reason to assume she was one. 

As they waltzed across the dance floor, Y/N allowed herself to appreciate the way that they moved together. Where Terry was occasionally klutzy and uncoordinated, Malfoy floated, guiding them across the floor with a practiced ease that was undoubtedly the result of years of a proper Pureblood upbringing. He was warm and solid against her, and she could feel the chill of his signet ring permeating the thin fabric of her gown.

She let herself look at his face when they returned to their original places. His gaze was fixed on something over her shoulder, but the effect was all the same.

Fuck thought Y/N as she stared at him. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

She knew this feeling. 

They separated, and Y/N yanked her eyes from his, finding Terry’s arms and attempting to forget all about what she’d just felt. But it became hard for her to deny when she noticed how often her eyes left her own date to look for that telling blonde head of hair. She drank in every sight of him like a woman parched, hoping to memorize the way that his lithe form looked in his formal black dressing robes, the way that his starchy white collar accentuated his sharp jawline. 

He was perfect. And she was fucked.

September 1st, 1996

“You danced with him once and decided you were going to have his babies?” said Susan, one eyebrow arched.

“Ew.” Y/N smacked her roommate with her pillow. “Gross. And it was a really good dance! We were a good partnership.”

“And you know this because you took one trip across the ballroom, doing one of the easiest dance steps known to man? With a pureblood who could probably waltz his shoes tied together?” 

Y/N turned even redder. “Hey! I can’t help it. He’s just…You know?”

“Unfortunately, I do know,” Susan conceded. “Theo makes me feel that way too.”

“Speaking of Nott—I mean, Theo—” Y/N paused, wondering if it was too early and weird for her to ask. 

“Yeah?”

“Do you spend any time with Draco when you’re with the Slytherins? What’s he like?”

Thankfully, Susan didn’t seem like she was going to tease her for her hopeless antics. She frowned, tilting her head. “He’s…quiet. Very quiet. Maybe it’s just because I’m there. He probably has some bloodline curse prohibiting him from chatting up a Hufflepuff or something—no offense.”

“None taken,” said Y/N. “I meant it when I said that I knew this was all a pipe dream. Do you think…I dunno, this is stupid.”

“In dark times like these, we should all treasure the questions from hopeless crushes a little more. If we can’t allow ourselves this, then what else do we have?”

Y/N smiled gratefully. “I know you say he’s quiet. But from what you’ve seen, do you think we’d get along?”

Susan opened her mouth before closing it.

“I mean, apart from the fact that I’m a muggleborn and a Hufflepuff,” Y/N hastily added. “Just, like, our personalities.”

“Oh,” said Susan, appearing relieved. “Like I said, I don’t know all that much about him or his personality. When I see the Slytherins, he normally just adds a few sarcastic comments here and there.”

“Hm.” Y/N tried not to think too hard about whether or not they were compatible based off of the one singular detail Susan had gleaned from her interactions with him.

“I can ask Theo, you know,” said Susan. “I can be really sly about it. He wouldn’t know it was you. I’ll just ask him what Draco’s type is or something.”

“I don’t think Theo even knows who I am,” said Y/N. “I don’t think any of them know who I am, either.”

“That’s probably for the better,” said Susan. “Theo has been good about it, but I think that you’re better off without them knowing about another muggleborn at Hogwarts. You see how they treat Granger.”

Y/N hummed in agreement. 

“I’ll ask,” Susan said, her tone final. “And I’ll be so sneaky about it. It’ll never get back to you. But…”

“But?”

Susan shifted. “You’ve seen him with Parkinson, right?” 

“Yes.” Y/N didn’t mean to sound so sharp. 

“I’m just saying this because I love you, Y/N,” said Susan. “I want you to be prepared in case Theo tells me that they’re together. For all we know, they could have an engagement arranged after they graduate.”

Y/N felt positively ill. “I know. I’m okay with it. I’ve come to terms with the fact that it’s never going to happen. I just kind of want to know. If you come back and tell me that you think he’s completely incompatible with me then I’ll feel better about forgetting all about it.”

“That’s smart,” responded Susan, looking thoughtful. “But I’m sorry if it doesn’t work out. You deserve the best, you know.”

She let her roommate pull her into a hug. She could tell that another apology was on the tip of her friend’s tongue: perhaps a more eloquently worded, “I’m sorry you were born a muggleborn.” Y/N didn’t mind being muggleborn, but in that moment, she would’ve given anything in the world to have magical lineage. 

~

Y/N’s nails bit into the flesh of her palms as she wound about the dungeon corridors. She had spent every year prior heading to Snape’s room for Potions and gotten so accustomed to walking to the same classroom that she never bothered to explore more of the dungeons. She hated the way that everything was so dank, dripping, and dark. 

She also hated the way that she was going to be late to her first Potions class. Because she couldn’t find the classroom, like a bloody first-year. 

THIS is not a good look for me she thought as she finally caught sight of a door propped open with students inside. I’m letting down all the muggleborns. 

Her shoes clicked on the stone floor as she entered, prompting Slughorn to pause his lecturing to turn and regard her.

“Miss…” He frowned, plucking a small piece of parchment from the table.

“Y/L/N, sir,” she answered. Her cheeks grew hot as she felt the weight of the entire class’s eyes on her. 

“Ah, I see,” said Slughorn, nodding. “Miss Bones told me you were coming. Lost your way?”

“Yes,” she replied, catching Susan’s eye. “Forgive me, Professor. I don’t spend much time down here.”

Slughorn awarded her with a smile that was clearly forced. “No matter. Take a seat. We’re reviewing the general structure of an antidote.”

Y/N scanned the room. There was one empty seat next to Susan and Nott, thank Merlin. Y/N had never felt more grateful. Then she realized who was sitting with them and her heart ceased to beat.

“Y/N,” greeted Susan as she set her things down on the ground and sat down. “Have you met Theo?”

Nott grinned wolfishly at her from across the table, dimples appearing in his golden skin. Y/N could see why Susan was drawn to him. “Hi, Y/N. I met you on the train, didn’t I?”

“Hi,” she said shyly. “I think so.” She wasn’t sure if her voice was going to work properly if she said any more. 

“And have you met Malfoy?” Nott gestured towards the boy sitting next to him, levitating a quill and looking profoundly uninterested.

Y/N sent a kick to Susan’s shin under the table. “No. I, er, don’t think I have.”

Draco looked up from his quill for a second and their eyes locked. Her heart thudded like it was suddenly full of lead. He raised his hand in a half-hearted wave, fingers loose. Then he looked back down, twirling the quill around said long fingers. He obviously didn’t care. Y/N swallowed. He was wearing a Malfoy signet ring on his pointer finger, a silver metal that captured the light in the room and accentuated the elegant slope of his skin. He had hands that looked like they could belong to a Michelangelo sculpture and he didn’t care about her at all.

She felt like she was going to puke.

“Malfoy, this is Y/N,” said Nott, and she felt like she wanted to immediately melt into a puddle and die. “Y/N Y/L/N.”

Malfoy didn’t even bother introducing himself, but he looked at her again. This time, it felt like he was reevaluating her. His gaze lingered, only snapping to attention once Slughorn began to lecture once again.

And thus was Y/N’s first interaction with Malfoy in two years.

“Merlin, Susan,” grumbled Y/N as they sat together at lunch, huddled together and attempting to quell their first day blues with the soup in front of them. “That was disastrous.”

“It’s okay, Y/N,” soothed Susan. She’d been hearing Y/N moan about her interaction with Malfoy all day. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I didn’t say anything to him,” replied Y/N, grieving over her bowl. “All I did was sit there and stare at his hands. Do you think he noticed?”

“I don’t,” Susan told her. Her hand came up to touch Y/N’s back. “I don’t mean to take the wind out of your sails, but he wasn’t really paying much attention to you.”

“I know,” said Y/N, and upon hearing how loudly she’d snapped it, immediately lowered her voice. “That’s the real kicker. Now I know, I guess. He’s got no interest in me. It’s a lost cause. I’m over it, damn it all—”

“Apologies for interrupting,” said a smooth voice from behind her. Y/N froze. She knew who this was.

“Theo!” said Susan, spinning around and beaming up at her Slytherin “it’s complicated”-friend. He returned the smile with equal affection, reaching out to press a thumb into the dimple in her left cheek. “Why’re you here?”

“I have a proposition for you,” he said to Susan before turning to face Y/N. “And you, too, Y/N. If you’d like.”

Y/N had a feeling she would not like it.

“Surely you’ve heard about our fun little get togethers,” said Nott. The slant of his mouth had morphed from adoration to slyness, and it made Y/N want to squirm in her seat (though she would not give any Slytherin the satisfaction of letting him see that). 

“A little,” Susan deadpanned. It was an understatement. Slytherin parties were legendary. Even more mythic were the invites—it was near impossible to get into one without being a Slytherin already.

“Well, I’d love to see you there,” said Nott. “Both of you there. Y/N, it’s been a pity that I hardly know you.”

Something inside Y/N froze. Did he know? Did any of them know that she was a muggleborn? Susan seemed to be undergoing the same thought process as emotions flickered across her face. 

But despite all of her reservations, Y/N knew one thing: Susan, as a pureblood and a witch who was hopelessly infatuated with Theodore Nott, was going to be going to this party whether she was allowed or not.

“She’d love to go,” said Y/N. Nott’s eyebrows shot up while Susan kicked her under the table once.

“I’m thrilled,” he said, awarding her yet another dazzling smile. “And you, Y/N? Will I be getting to see you there as well?”

“No, I couldn’t—”

“Why? Do you have plans?” 

“Well, no—”

“So come,” Nott insisted. 

“I’m really not sure—”

“About what?”

If you want someone like me there she thought, but she decided not to share it. “You don’t know me like you know Susan. There’s no need to invite me.”

“Forget Susan,” said Nott, waving his hand. Susan theatrically gasped. “I’m inviting you. It’s a mere coincidence that I ran into both of you whilst distributing invitations.”

Here, Y/N was beginning to feel confused. Nott didn’t know her. There was no reason for him to offer her an invitation to one of the most exclusive parties in recent Hogwarts history. 

He cocked his head as he regarded her with startling attention. “I’ll assume that I’ll see you this Friday. I’ll send you both invites. No one else knows, yeah?”

Susan nodded, but Y/N sat frozen. 

“Why did he invite me?” she asked Susan once Nott had disappeared back into the ranks of the Slytherin table.

“I have no clue,” whispered Susan back. “But maybe it would be a good thing to do.”

“He’s going to be there.”

“He is.”

Y/N gulped. “Do you think this is all a cruel joke?” 

Susan frowned, but shook her head. “No. Theo’s not like that. He’s a bit of a tosser sometimes, but not like that.”

The week stretched on. Slughorn gave them unofficial official assigned seats, and Y/N found herself trying her very best not to stare at the group member across from her. She and Draco had had no further interactions beyond him asking for the beetroot powder and her trying to quell her blush as she said, “uh, yeah” and handed it to him.

As Friday drew closer, anticipation for her new evening plans grew. She was worried, of course, worried about the implications of the invite—not to mention the actual events that would transpire when she attended. But a part of her wondered, just barely, if Draco had been the one to insist that Nott invite her the day he approached her at lunch. There’s no reason that Nott would talk to her otherwise. Right? It couldn’t be a coincidence that that happened on the day that she sat with him in Potions.

She was aware that she was going completely nutters, of course. It wasn’t as if she was proud of her train of thought. Deep down, Y/N knew all of her speculation was bordering on insanity. But what was a teenage girl without a little lunacy?

~

“Does my liner look straight?” asked Y/N, pressing her face into Susan’s and blinking dramatically.

“It looks perfect,” said Susan. “Just like the rest of you. Where did this dress come from? I’ve never seen you in it before.”

Y/N grinned. She was wearing one of her summer wardrobe splurges—a black silk slip dress that ended a bit above her knees. The enchanted tights on her legs added a witchy element, golden vines twinkling intermittently around a sheer black background. She’d let Susan talk her into wearing a delicate gold necklace with a badger pendant, short enough that it only reached her chest right under her collarbones.

When she’d caught the reflection of herself in the mirror, she was shocked by what she saw. The black in her waterline made her eyes pop. In short, she looked…pretty. Beautiful, even.

“Like I said,” Susan said from behind her, looking into the mirror with her, “Perfect. Do you think we can go now? I’m getting nervous about finding the dungeons.”

“Sure.”

Y/N was sure she was physically trembling by the time that they found the entrance to the Slytherin common room. It didn’t help that the dungeons were cold and damp. The exposed skin on her neck, shoulders, and chest were desperately paying the price. 

“I wish I had brought a sweater,” complained Y/N as they prepared to knock on the door. 

“That would be social suicide,” said Susan flatly before rapping three times. Y/N snorted. Yeah. Merlin forbid someone in the dungeons was actually comfortable. 

The door swung open to reveal Gregory Goyle, a sneer fitted onto his face as he glared down at the two Hufflepuffs. “Invites?”

Susan reached into her pockets and pulled out two rich forest green envelopes. Goyle plucked them out of her fingers with no excess civility, giving her a suspicious look as he ripped the envelopes open and examined their contents. Once he was satisfied, he gave a grunt that Y/N supposed was intended to be approval, given that he moved out of the entrance to make room for them to fit through.

The only light came from the walls, where dark green lights had been attached to the walls, omitting a sort of slimy glow to the room. Some students were dancing in the middle to whatever music was on—Y/N couldn’t recognize it, but she supposed it was wizarding party music—while others were clustered in groups around the walls, talking animatedly with their friends. A table was set up near the fireplace with a collection of bottles strewn about with cups. She recognized the Firewhiskey labels from her spot across the room, but the rest was difficult to discern.

“Y/N! Suz!” The voice came from the armchairs by the windows. Y/N whipped sound to see Theo sitting perched on a thick leather couch, waving enthusiastically in their direction.

“Let’s go!” said Y/N, tugging on Susan’s sleeve, Her friend appeared frozen in place.

“I can’t believe he likes me,” said Susan. “Look at him. He’s gorgeous.”

“And so are you!” Y/N replied, shaking her shoulders. “And he’s waiting for us!”

She pulled Susan over to the windows. Theo, Zabini, Parkinson, and Greengrass all sat, a few tumblers scattered on the table. 

“Who’s this?” asked Parkinson sourly, giving Y/N and Susan a very obvious once-over, 

“Susan, the prettiest girl in our year,” said Theo, and Y/N swore she saw Susan ascend. 

Parkinson snorted. “Oh. Yeah. Sure. And the other one?” Y/N, too, was curious to hear his answer.

“My potions savior,” said Theo, grinning. “Y/N. She gave me sophrous powder when no one else would.”

Y/N blinked. Huh? 

“I didn’t take you for a philanthropist,” said Zabini. His fingers pressed into the high arches of his cheekbones as he rested his face in his hand, regarding Y/N and Susan with a practiced disinterest. 

And thus concluded their entrance into the Slytherin dorms. Theo ushered both of them onto the couches before disappearing with the promise to return with drinks, which he did, promptly. They tasted like a fireplace, Y/N thought, as she sat, nursed her drink, and wondered where Draco could possibly be. Thanks to Susan, she was given a chance to hang out with his friends. Just her luck that the one time she was invited, he wasn’t even there.

“Where’s Draco?” asked Parkinson. The momentary gratitude that arose in Y/N was immediately squelched by the sick feeling of jealousy. Why did Parkinson care? Were they together?

Theo rolled his eyes and pretended to stretch, using the opportunity to drape an arm over Susan’s shoulder in a gesture that was comically obvious. “You know how he is. I asked him if he was coming and he got all bitchy, saying something about how he’s got too much this weekend and can’t be bothered with THAT kind of stuff anymore.” Theo’s voice morphed into a caricature of Draco’s snotty drawl near the end, and it made even Y/N giggle.

“First time I’ve made you laugh, ever,” Theo pointed out. His eyes were boring into hers. “Is that what I need to do to get you to like me more? More unbearable Draco impressions?”

“Maybe,” Y/N said through laughs. She couldn’t remember why she’d hated Theodore Nott for so long. Looking back on it, she couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten on her nerves or cheered as other Slytherins insulted the muggleborns. He was just friends with the people who did, which Y/N supposed was just as bad, but it certainly didn’t always seem like it. 

When Theo pulled Susan up to dance, Y/N became keenly aware of the fact that she had no one else at the party beyond the scowling Slytherins sitting around her. 

“So,” said Zabini awkwardly, clearing his throat. “Y/N, did you say?”

She took another sip of her drink. She’d already taken too many sips out of nervousness, and now it was almost gone. And she didn’t know how strong it was. “Yeah. Zabini, right?”

“Yeah.” 

They stared at each other for another few seconds.

“I love your mother’s work,” she offered. “8 husbands in one decade? That has to be a sort of record.”

“It is, actually,” said Zabini, sitting up straighter. “It used to be 5. She beat the last witch by quite a margin.”

“Impressive,” Y/N said, and she wasn’t lying.

“Have you always gone to Hogwarts?” asked Greengrass, a slightly dreamy look in her eyes.

“Yes,” said Y/N, “But I normally keep to myself. I’m mostly friends with Hufflepuffs, you see.”

“I’m surprised I’ve never heard of you before.” Parkinson was looking at her like a big cat about to pounce. 

Y/N swallowed. It wasn’t like she had much of a relationship to salvage with any of the Slytherins in the room. She could leave, and Theo would take care of Susan. It wouldn’t hurt to come clean, right? She’d read somewhere that admitting to something before you were caught made you seem more powerful. 

She decided to go for it.

“Yeah. That’s probably because I’m a muggleborn.”

The group went silent. Horror filled their faces as the realization dawned on them.

Then Parkinson laughed, a cruel, biting sort of laugh. “How’d you get an invite?” 

“I didn’t, not really,” said Y/N. “It’s just because of Susan.”

“So Bones is a blood traitor?” said Greengrass, her dreamy look wiped off and replaced with a sneer. “Isn’t this rich? I swear, are there any of us left? We’re dropping like flies. Does Theo know about this?”

The thought seemed to disturb Parkinson enough to spring into action. 

“Theo!” she screeched, reaching a hand up to wave wildly in the direction of the couple, The blood red nail polish on her fingers looked black under the green lights. “Come here! This instant!”

Y/N was just about to flee, when—

“Shut up, you stupid bint,” said a low, drawling voice behind her. Y/N froze. She knew that voice. Was she so drunk that she was imagining Draco Malfoy’s voice?

The weight on the couch shifted next to her as someone sat down. She wouldn’t look—couldn’t look, she was too terrified—but the way the green light reflected off the pale hair of the person beside her told her enough.

How had literally everything gone to shit in less than a minute?

“Draco!” cooed Parkinson. “I didn’t know you were coming!”

“I thought I’d drop in to say hullo,” Draco said, crossing one dragonhide clad foot over the opposite knee. HIs raised thigh nearly brushed hers, and Y/N felt her heart lurch into her throat. “What did I miss?”

Draco Malfoy was sitting next to her. Draco Malfoy was almost touching her. Draco Malfoy was talking more than he ever had in front of her. Draco Malfoy was definitely not even slightly paying attention to her.

“...and I was just telling this mudblood here to get out,” finished Parkinson. Y/N hadn’t heard the beginning, she was so lost in thought.

And apparently Draco Malfoy knew she was a muggleborn now.  

“Oh,” was all he said, swirling a cup around in his hands. “So I haven’t missed much.”

It was so casual, so uninterested. Y/N was sure she was about to die of embarrassment, but she was frozen in her spot, so the act of spontaneously shuffling off the mortal coil was perhaps a tall order for her when she couldn’t even manage a blink.

“Do you need help finding the door?” said Parkinson, now addressing Y/N with a saccharine sweet voice. “Or do you think you can manage?”

Y/N found herself on her feet all of a sudden, vile words on her tongue and a prominent fantasy in her mind that included decking Parkinson. The sudden movement thawed her petrification, but she was still struggling to come up with a retort. 

Y/N eyes met Parkinson’s, and suddenly she heard herself talking. “You’re not very good at putting eyeliner on. Your lids are too oily for the charm.” And honest to god, Y/N was right. Parkinson had used the classic eyeliner charm that every witch knew, and it had since transferred onto the middle of her lid. 

Then she chucked her Firewhiskey cup at Parkinson’s head with as much strength as she could muster and ran for her life. 

~

It was late. Y/N didn’t know where she was, or how she had gotten so lost in the dungeons. 

“Is anyone there?”

The voice echoed in the corridor behind her. It sounded like a student,  most likely a male 6th year prefect. She shivered. It was past curfew—way past curfew. If a prefect caught her, she’d be fucked. She needed to run to make sure she wouldn’t be given detention, but she was so lost. And her feet felt glued to the floor in a way that didn’t seem reasonable. 

The footsteps approaching her rounded the corner. It seemed peculiar to Y/N—the voice had sounded much further away. But there was no reason dwelling upon that when she could be thinking about how to talk herself out of a detention. 

“Oh. It’s you.”

When she turned around to face the person speaking, she saw Draco. He was standing in the middle of the hall with his hands shoved into the pockets of his Quidditch robes. Why was he wearing Quidditch robes? It was late at—Y/N checked her catch, and was startled to see that the face was completely empty. She also didn’t know how she had gotten here. What was going on? Why was Draco Malfoy patrolling the halls in his Quidditch robes? He hadn’t played since last year.

“Why are you wearing your Quidditch robes?” asked Y/N, frowning and tilting her head. “I didn’t think you were playing this year.”

Draco gave her a weird look. “Why would I be wearing—oh.” He looked down at himself and pulled at the fabric draped over his shoulders, his scowl deepening. “I’m—not sure.”

Not that Y/N was complaining. Draco in his normal apparel was drop dead handsome, but there was something about how he looked clad in the forest green swaths of Slytherin’s uniform with his last name displayed on his back. She’d always taken extra time to admire him from the Quidditch stands during games. 

“This is a dream, you know,” said Draco. And once he said that, it became clear that everything around her but him was fuzzy and distorted, with inaccurate proportions that seemed improbable.

Something was shaking at her shoulder, too.

“Y/N.”

It echoed, but it didn’t come from Draco’s mouth.

“I think someone’s calling you,” said Draco, motioning behind her with his chin. “You should go.”

“Y/N!” 

Susan’s face appeared in front of her, bathed in the sunlight that was currently spilling into their dorm room through the windows. Draco slowly faded from her vision.

“Wake up!”

Y/N groaned, rolling over. She became keenly aware of the fact that she was in fact lying down, not standing in the Slytherin dungeons. As she came to, the memories floated back to her—meeting Theo’s friends, seeing Draco, throwing her drink in Pansy’s face, running back to her dorm and making it in record time—none of which involving a run in with Draco beyond the common room.

“Oh god,” murmured Y/N.

“You’re a legend, dude,” said Susan. “That drink throw was all anyone could talk about. You hit her right in the face, you know, from across the table and after drinking an entire cup of Firewhiskey.”

“She’s going to try and kill me,” moaned Y/N, rolling onto her back and hiding her face. “She’s gonna kill me dead.”

“I’m really sorry, though,” said Susan with a bit more earnestness. “I shouldn’t have left you alone with them. I got carried away. Theo invited me to go dance with him, and then we just started talking, and—”

“Please don’t apologize,” said Y/N. “I’m really happy you got to have that moment with him. I’m sorry I kind of ruined last night.”

“Eh.” Susan shrugged. “I think most people thought it was funny. Apart from Parkinson and Greengrass, of course. I think they’re a bit more peeved.”

“Well, it’s not like I see them much,” said Y/N. “They know I’m a muggleborn now, though.”

“Does Draco?”

“Yeah.”

“Aw, Y/N.” Susan reached out to brush her hair off of her forehead. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to tell them on your own terms.”

“I actually did, I think,” said Y/N, the events of the previous night slowly clarifying in front of her. “Granted, I was a bit drunk, but I decided to just get it on the table.”

“Oh. Wow. Do you…Was it…Are you happy that you did?”

“Yeah, honestly.” Y/N finally pushed her covers away and sat up. As much as she adored Susan, sometimes it was clear that her best friend didn’t understand what it was like to be anything but pureblooded. “I was sick of dancing around it. I just wanted to own it, you know? I didn’t want to constantly worry that one of them might find out. I don’t want them to think I’m ashamed of my blood status.”

“That’s…I never thought about it like that,” said Susan, thoughtfully. “Then I’m happy for you, Y/N. That’s really strong of you.”

“Thanks. Do you think Parkinson is going to target me now?”

“I’m not sure,” replied Susan. “I think she’s spending most of her energy nowadays trying to get Malfoy’s attention.”

Y/N chose to believe her friend as she got up to get ready for breakfast, letting her thoughts wander beyond Pansy Parkinson and to her dream last night instead.

When she was younger, she used to be able to lucid dream, spending every night going on adventures of her own volition and flying about the world without the aid of a plane or a broom. School stress had made it difficult to dream consciously, so that had long since fallen to the wayside. 

But it was so fun to lucid dream. She’d forgotten how nice it was to have a practice world to herself all night where she could do anything she wanted without any consequences. 

Now that she thought about it, she was devastated at the way she’d squandered the opportunity to snog Draco Malfoy senseless in her dream. Granted, it wouldn’t really be Draco Malfoy—it would be her mind’s version of Draco Malfoy—but it would be better than nothing. It had been too long since she’d had a good snog session. So long, in fact, that she was willing to resort to making out with her crush in her dreams if that was all the action she was going to get.

She could have kissed him, or confessed, or at the very least touched his hair or felt the firmness of his chest underneath his Quidditch robes. And his Quidditch robes, too—her subconscious was generous indeed. 

At that moment, Y/N promised herself that if she ever met Draco in a dream again, she was going to jump him. 

~

Nothing could’ve prepared her for the cheers that rang throughout the Great Hall when she entered that morning, still bleary-eyed with sleep and uncoordinated.

“Is that her?” she heard someone whisper, and suddenly the entire Gryffindor table was erupting in whoops and hollers and clapping.

“Merlin, Susan,” gasped Y/N as she watched the 6th year Gryffindors cheering and pointing at her. “What’s going on?”

“I told you,” said Susan, a gleam in her eye, “You’re an icon. It looks like word got out that you were the girl who threw the drink.”

“What’s your name?” asked a Gryffindor boy that smelled faintly of smoke as they walked past.

“Um—Y/N Y/L/N—”

“Y/N Y/L/N WAS THE WITCH WHO DECKED PARKINSON,” he bellowed. The cheering grew even louder, this time with the addition of her name being sung, and Y/N felt herself blush. 

“I wouldn’t say decked—”

“Just take the praise,” said Susan, reaching for her sleeve and yanking her forward. 

“Why are they so excited about this? I feel like this is hardly the first time Parkinson’s gotten into a scuffle.”

Susan shrugged. “I think Gryffindor has some sort of special grudge against Parkinson. I think most of the people at that table would’ve killed to do what you did. But they don’t get invites to Slytherin parties where they’re close enough to hit their mark.”

“This honestly can’t be good,” said Y/N, staring at the porridge in her bowl once they were seated. “Remember how I was planning to spend my time at Hogwarts, and I quote, ‘under the radar’? This isn’t that.”

“I don’t know what radar is. I just nodded when you told me that.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “You better hope that you never have to survive in the Muggle world.”

Their conversation morphed into one of chatter and casual gossip. Thankfully, the Gryffindor table had slowly calmed down and Y/N was finally able to eat in peace. Susan had to dash in time to meet Theo at Hogsmeade, so Y/N was left alone with her thoughts as she finished up her food.

Now that she was awake and her dream was behind her, one question lingered: what did Draco think of what happened? Was he impressed that she wasn’t just the standard Hufflepuff archetype? Was he angry at her for Pansy’s sake? Did he even care?

He probably didn’t. He likely didn’t even remember her name, even if he was in the Great Hall while the Gryffindors were chanting it. Merlin knew that he had never referred to her directly. Speaking of which…She frowned, poking the last remnants of her porridge around the bowl. Was he in the Great Hall? Had he seen the Gryffindor fiasco?

Her seat at the Hufflepuff table only faced the Ravenclaw table and the wall. The Slytherin table was right behind her, so even though she hadn’t seen him coming in, it would only be just a quick turn to check…

Under the pretense of stretching, Y/N swiveled about in her seat, planning to scan up and down the aisle as briefly as possible to see if Draco was there. What she wasn’t expecting was Draco sitting right behind her, already staring.

Their eyes locked with an intensity that felt like a gong had been struck within her. Y/N shut her eyes and whipped around, shoving her things back into her satchel and rising to leave.

~

…imperfections in the ball, if dropped or cracked, can lead to disastrous results. Instances like these are rare, but should the crystal be damaged, the user ought to immediately consult a professional to check for lingering magical effects…

Y/N frowned. She had no idea what to say after that line. Were “lingering magical effects” all Trelawney mentioned? And what was she supposed to recommend beyond, “Find someone else who can fix it”? 

She collapsed onto her essay, allowing herself a moment to grieve. She’d been rewriting the same page of her Divination essay for at least half an hour and had made what felt like no progress.

Forcing herself to sit up again, she resolved to finish it again. If she had to go back to her dorm and get her notes, then she would—

A fluttering next to her made her jump. Her notes had just appeared next to her on the library table, but when she reached out to open them, they jerked away. She tried again, and just like before, it scurried away from her grip.

“The fuck?” Y/N muttered as she stood up to get more leverage. Oh, oops. She shouldn’t be talking so loudly in the library at…She checked her watch. Once again, the face was empty.

“This is a dream,” she realized aloud.

“Yes,” said a voice next to her. She jumped, turning to see Draco sitting beside her, his own notes splayed out across the table. “This isn’t real.”

“Are you sure?” asked Y/N, praying that he wasn’t just toying with her.

“Yes,” said Draco again, though his voice was distant. 

Y/N thought about that for a moment. The clocks weren’t working. She wasn’t sure how she’d ended up in the library. No matter what she wrote down on her scroll, she had to start over from the beginning. The outlines of the stacks were wavering in the background. 

Yup, definitely dreaming. And lucid, and sitting next to Draco Malfoy. So she had to make good on her promise.

She casually straightened her legs, holding eye contact with Draco when he looked up as she drew close enough to sit on the armrest of his chair. As always, his features were schooled into a mask of disinterest, but she saw the slight widening of his eyes as she reached up and threaded her fingers through his hair. It was soft, softer than she had imagined.

And then she kissed him. 

He was oddly stiff and surprised, like he wasn’t expecting it—which was weird, because he was from her head and he should have known, considering how often she thought about doing this to him. 

Draco pulled away, giving her an odd look.

“Er…”

“This is a dream,” she repeated. 

“Right,” he said, though his eyes were unfocused. “A dream.”

His pupils were blown so wide they made his eyes appear almost black. Y/N found herself wondering how he was so clear in contrast to everything else in her dream, every detail of his body accurate to how she’d remembered in real life and not the slightest bit disfigured. She was so busy puzzling over how real the dream felt that she barely noticed his own hand reaching up to touch her cheek, touching the skin and dragging the fingertip down. Once it reached her jaw, it was replaced with his full palm, warm and soft against her skin as it crept behind her neck and tugged her face down to his.

This time, it was he who kissed her. His lips were a pleasant heat against her own as he tilted his head. She let her own lips part, and he accidentally bumped her teeth.

“Merlin, sorry,” he said, breaking away and letting out a breathy laugh that vibrated in his chest. 

“That’s okay,” she said, smiling but drawing closer once again. She attempted to maneuver herself off of the armrest and onto his lap but teetered on her way down; in response, his hands came up to dig into her waist and steady her. 

“I think your rings are really hot,” she said once she was firmly on top of him, not even thinking to be embarrassed. This wasn’t Draco. This was Imaginary Draco. Who gave a fuck what he thought?

“Yeah?” he teased, the corner of his mouth turning slightly upwards. 

She gasped as something ice cold brushed against her thigh. Suddenly she became aware of the fact that she wasn’t wearing her usual tights and skirt under her robes. She wasn’t even wearing robes; instead, she was dressed the way she was for the party on Friday. 

His fingers danced across the insides of her thighs once again, the coolness of his rings a stark contrast to the steadily rising temperature of her skin.

“You’re burning,” he said as he continued to stroke the swath of skin under her dress. She shifted her weight forward to catch his mouth with hers again. This time, when his tongue brushed the seam of her lips, it felt natural to part them and kiss him deeper. It felt like he was devouring her, from the way his fingers dug into the flesh of her thigh to the way his other hand wound into her hair at the nape of her neck, holding her there.

She’d forgotten how loud it was to snog someone like your life depended on it. She’d also forgotten just how good it felt, and considering how much enthusiasm Dream Draco was bringing to the table, it appeared that her version of him had, too. 

Perhaps she’d take up lucid dreaming as a hobby like muggles did. This was more than enough motivation.

Draco’s hand had migrated from her thigh to her ribcage, the fabric straining against it as he explored the newly discovered skin. He tasted like toothpaste, like he’d just brushed his teeth, and their kisses had long since turned sloppy, long finished with the pretense of uniformity and cohesion as they drank each other in

And just when he was kissing down the column of her neck, he began to seem farther away, fading in her eyesight as the beeping sound from her alarm began to slip into the dream. She didn’t even have the chance to say goodbye as she awoke.

She spent the entirety of Sunday locked away in her dorm, wondering how she was going to face him on Monday morning. Thankfully, her Divination paper kept her more than occupied. The more she wrote, the more she was convinced that all Seers were just faking it. All of this was so ludicrous.

That night, she didn’t dream of Draco, despite the amount that she’d thought of him (read: a lot). Instead, she dreamt of crystal balls and flying Firewhiskey cups.

final a/n: next part coming really soon. let me know your thoughts! 

[henqtic]

Count Them

pairing: dad!regulus black x mom!reader

summary: where regulus comforts your four year daughter who’s scared of storms with a method he once used.

word count: 460.

masterlist. // taglist form. // request works.

��well, do you wanna know what i used to do when i was scared of storms?” regulus asked to the little girl in another attempt to comfort her, all three of you sat in front of the bay window, all wrapped up in one blanket filled with warmth— trying to help the four year old though her newfound fear in the best way you knew how to, to turn into something more calming.

it didn’t sound too smart at first, going right up close to the root of the problem, but it was always easier to face it head on instead of never doing it at all— something she was probably going to do since it was spring and there would be nothing but heavy showers for the next few months.  

“you used to be scared of them too?” she gasped, eyes widening in surprise that anyone like her dad could’ve ever been afraid of anything.

“of course i was junie, they’re bloody terrifying. loud, dark, sometimes feel like they’ll never stop—”

you hit his shoulder as it seemed that his words of discouragement may never end and bring you right back to square one where she wouldn’t dig her head out of the crook of your neck to hide from it all.

“sorry loves, that wasn’t the best approach. but let’s just say your grandparents house wasn’t exactly the place where you overcome something—  more the opposite,” he finished with a sad but still determined sight, if his parents couldn’t do it after sirius couldn’t had ran away to the potters and he already knew what it was like to go through it on his own— he sure wouldn’t let his daughter do so too.

he grabbed her from her place sandwiched in between your bodies and sat her on his lap, tucking her in with a tight hug and the side of her face squished into his.

“well there weren’t many options of what i could do to distract myself in a dark home with no toys like me and your mum got you,” he smiled as he felt junie do the same, whispering the next part, “so, i started counting the raindrops on the window. it was a little boring but it worked.”

“all of them?” she asked in awe, looking at the ones that slid and raced across the glass in front of her.

“oh no, i don’t think anyone could do that—  just enough to make me fall asleep. how about you count with me and mummy, once you wake up, it’ll be all over.”

“you sure?”

“i wouldn’t ever lie to you.”

“well okay,” she agreed in a timid voice, looking at you for confirmation and getting it.

“one, two, three, four, five…”

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[scvrllet]

SOFT MOMENTS WITH THE GLADERS

In which Jen writes blurbs about soft moments with the Gladers (Newt, Gally, Minho and Thomas) because they deserve the world

maze runner masterlist // taglist form

TAGS: @princekooks @lucy-malfoy07 @aphroditelymine @ameliedrawz @tsukilover11 @sweetblueparadisebabyg @skyisneverthelimit @gryffindorgirl @dagirlinthatback @annika0-o @kaepm981 @rocketxgirl @debesteimanetje @vixxiann @nataliewalker93 @averyisbackinthetrashcan @suranne-doesstuff @jellybeanduck99 @bad268 @just-a-fangirl-xd @maramalademadara @smallerdemon @daddytomswhorecrux @lxncelot @peededpants @water-vevo @lilyblackx @ellashelton1 @thiccheerioss @abelbai000 @moatsnow @wonderful-writer @dreamcxtcherr @mytreec @riddikulusweasleys @misskaysposts @risinggeminii @deathkat657 @letshaveimagines @malfoysadore @magicalxdaydream @hehehehannahthings @heyyitsreign @hec1930 @joyfullymulti @oh-my-ronron-mphfpc-fanfic-heart

NEWT

gender neutral reader, alcohol consumption, 257 words

Bonfire nights were fun but always ended in some form of chaos. More often than not, it would be the aftermath of you consuming too many mugs of Gally's special drink and tonight was no different than expected.

Inside the small hut you and Newt slept in, laid you on the bed who was babbling nonsense. Occasionally, he would catch a "love" or "a-lot" but nothing he could make sense of as he was prepping not only himself, but you for bed. Once he was done, he sat beside you on the bed and helped you into a comfortable position, all while you were still saying something he couldn't seem to make out.

"Love I can't understand what you're saying." He said as he ran his fingers through your hair. "How 'bout you whisper it to me."

Propping yourself up so that you could whisper into his ear, you managed to whisper "I love you so much." before losing your balance and falling onto his lap.

Too drunk to notice the blush on his cheeks, your nonsense babbling had turned into compliments and words of affection directed towards Newt, him. He had never been one to rush into things, wanting to take things slow and steady so confessing your love for each-other had been off the table for a while but perhaps you were ready all along.

Finally growing some courage to do something, he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead, mumbling a "I love you too" as you continued your serenade to him.

GALLY

gender neutral reader, 125 words

His large calloused hand against your smaller one was a humorous sight to Gally.

Working as a builder, it was no surprise that his hands wouldn’t be the smoothest and softest to hold but you didn't mind that. In fact, nothing seemed to ever stop you. If the two of you were next to each other and his hands were free, it’s be no surprise when you would reach out to hold it.

So as he sat there, watching as you compared your hand with his, Gally couldn't help but smile before linking his fingers with yours. Bringing your hand towards his lips where he placed a kiss on it, Gally watched as a smile grew on your face.

God he loved you so much.

MINHO

gender neutral reader, 237 words

Minho's life, despite being stuck in the Glade for years, has always felt fast-paced. Every day in the maze felt like a day closer to finally escaping and he was always so tense after his runs, wondering if he ran a bit more, ran a bit faster, would he have finally helped his friends escape. Being Keeper of the Runner added more to his stress and desire to find an escape but luckily for him, he had you there for him; someone he didn't feel the need to rush anything around. He never felt the rush to say "I love you" or to kiss you or to even ask you to be his- though he did eventually ask you.

Resting his head on your shoulder as you mindlessly played with his fingers while you spoke to Newt.

Minho sighed contently as he listened to the two of you speak about something he couldn't be bothered asking about. Unlike the times where he's working, he didn't feel like he was running out of time. When he was around you, it felt like he had all the time there was in the world. He knew he'd never lose you, he'd fight through hell and back a million times if he had to just to keep you safe, and even if you were all stuck in the maze, he would be fine with it as long as he had you.

THOMAS

gender neutral reader, 204 words

Thomas, despite barely being in the Glade a month ago, had felt like he'd already experienced everything it had to offer (and he did, technically). From the maze to every square feet of the Glade, he was confident he could remember it like the back of his hand but you, you were something that never failed to surprise him.

Even though he swore he knew every inch of the Glade, you managed to show him there was more to it than he may have once thought. Deadheads for example, while usually avoided by other Gladers due to it being a graveyard surrounded by tall trees, you found a small area of soft grass on the opposite side of where the makeshift graves stood. Here, there was a small clearing where the stars (or at least you all assumed there stars) could be seen.

Laying on a blanket, leaning your back against his chest, the two of you would take turns pointing at funny shapes the stars created. And while Thomas desperately wanted to get out of the maze and escape, he wouldn't entirely hate it if there was really no way out. As long as he had you, he'd be fine with whatever happens.

[holden-caulfield]

What If I Don't Want You To?

main masterlist

REQUESTED: "Hii! I saw that you wanted people to leave kaz requests in your asks so here I am! Could you do a ff in wich the reader is a part of the crows and she's really sarcastic and flirty (similar to jesper) and she constantly flirts with kaz, (he acts like it doesn't affect him but he secretly loves it) and one day she does something especially bold that makes him blush madly and they finally admit their feelings for each other (also a lot of teasing of the crows to kaz pls) thank you so much!"

SUMMARY: reader loves to tease kaz but is scared once she realizes she might have gone too far.

WARNINGS: a mention of blood but nothing graphic

WORD COUNT: 1422

Kaz was the most closed-off person you knew. He never revealed anything, wether it was his feelings or the details of a new plan, and it enraged you. That's why you took it upon yourself to see just how far you could push him.

Flirting with Kaz Brekker wasn't an easy task, nor was it rewarding but it sure was fun. The crows loved to see which new technique you would have used and what effect it would have had on Kaz. It was usually a simple glare; a snarky comment when you were lucky. Bets were made on his reactions and you soon became a part of it.

"What are we thinking today, Y/n?" started Jesper while walking you down to the club, "I'm betting on a smirk."

"A smirk?!" you asked surprised, "I'm not even sure Kaz can smile..."

"He can, i've seen him once. I thought i was dreaming but when i pointed it out, he glared at me. I knew it was real when he whacked me with his cane." stated Jesper, shivering at the memory. You couldn't help but laugh at his theatrics. "Why do you do it, by the way?"

You took a moment to answer, suddenly serious again.

Truth was that all the innocent flirty comments you made −comments that started out as nothing more than a pastime− soon changed something in you. They were becoming truthful, and seeing Kaz answer with nothing but a dismissive comment was not easy. Trying to evoke feelings in him, inadvertently awoke feelings in you. Feelings for your boss that you shouldn't have had.

"Do i need a reason? It's fun, why do you talk to yourself in the mirror when you think no one's watching?" you retorted, raising eyebrows in genuine question.

"First of all, you shouldn't have seen that. Second of all, you should try it, you'd feel much better afterwards." he said simply and you tried restraining the smile that inevitably made its way on your face.

You entered the club which was, as always, in full swing. Several people were already ordering at the bar all kinds of alcohol while many others were betting all their possessions at the tables. Only the dregs knew that the real bets were being placed under the tables.

"Ten that he doesn't say anything." you heard someone whispering.

You were the newest of the dregs and of the crows, but you had already earned yourself a reputation.

"Twenty that he finally kicks her out." another voice from somewhere in the club.

That one made you shiver. Would he really reach a point where he would fire you? You were a useful member, you wouldn't have made it into the crows if you weren't, but were you too much? Would he eventually get tired of you?

You walked over to your usual table with Jesper to meet Inej. Kaz wasn't there yet and you were really thinking of ending it there, no more flirting, no more jokes. This was your job, nothing else.

"What do you have for us, boss?" asked Jesper as he saw Kaz approaching.

He looked as he always does: black refined clothes clinging to him in an assortment of sharp edges, making him look even more direful to new merchants. He looked dashing the way a raging sea at night is; frightening, yet enticing. And that was wrong, you reminded yourself.

"It was a dead end." he said, sitting down.

He was in a gloomy mood, certainly for the news, and even though you knew you would have let down the whole club, you couldn't help but think of the comment you had heard moments ago.

"Twenty that he finally kicks her out."

You loved working and simply being with the crows and the possibility of being kicked out was positively frightening.

But you couldn't simply stop. Everyone would have noticed something was off, he would have noticed. And then what? He would have known you liked him.

You had to do something big, something he couldn't simply ignore. You might have been out of the dregs for good, or maybe not.

Jesper kicked your shin under the table, making you focus back on the real word and motioning at all the dregs in the club, looking expectantly at you.

Kaz and Inej were now talking about something you weren't quite getting, their voices seemed distant as you tried to forget about everyone's eyes on you. You had made it a thousand times already, you could do it once more.

"So, what are we going to do now?" asked Jesper and Kaz leaned back in his chair.

"I have some other leads we can try, but we'll have to split up." he started, the prospect of new kruge in his pockets making him incredibly more cheerful, "Jesper, Inej heard something about a particularly pricey painting in east stave, she'll bring you there and you'll learn more about it. And Y/n," he began and you perked up.

It was your moment to say something and get it over with.

"We'll go to west stave, i need your help with a lead there."

"Oh, you need me?" you said, your tone excessively teasing.

"That's what i said, but i can ask Inej." he replied drily.

You hesitated but you were not one to back down, especially not in front of one of Kaz's passive aggressive comments.

"But then you wouldn't get to stare at me longingly while i work, would you?" you said, pouting slightly.

You could have expected a retort, a glare, a not-so-nice hand gesture, but not him storming out of the club.

The entirety of the dregs was dumbfounded, Jesper and Inej, who never participated in the bets but still knew about them, were agape. You were mortified.

"Maybe," began Inej, "You should go talk to him."

"And meet my demise?" you asked.

"There must be a reason why he stormed out-"

"Yes, that he would have liked to kill me but blood stains are tough to remove." Jesper laughed but you were quite serious.

You got up either way, you had to explain yourself to him, you owed him at least that, and got out.

You found him not so far from the club's entrance, leaning on the railing over the river. You approached him unsurely.

"Kaz." he didn't turn around, so you got closer to the railing and noticed that his face, even in the night with the palest light of the street lamps, was scarlet. "I'm- i'm sorry, i will stop."

He remained silent.

"That is if you still want me in the crows, if not i'll leave tonight obviously." he turned to you, usually-perfect hair now slightly tousled, face still red and unreadable.

"Why wouldn't i?" he asked.

"I'm always teasing you and i figured you hated that. I will stop."

"What if i don't want you to?" your head perked up and he turned back towards the horizon, but a smirk crept up on his face. He didn't bother hiding it.

"So you can smile?" he rolled his eyes.

"I don't like it when people point out things i obviously do, you should have noticed back there."

Heat rushed to your face and the smile he had plastered onto his face turned into a complacent one.

"It was real? You stare at me longingly?" you asked bewildered.

He looked at you once before turning to the horizon once more, "Obviously not."

But you could sense he was lying.

"Told you he could smile, Y/n!" shouted Jesper from behind you.

You both turned around to find Jesper and Inej surrounded by the dregs and a couple of other clients too, all jostling to get a better look of the scene.

"It'll be hard for him not to, i'm afraid." joined in Inej and you bit your lip to refrain the laughter. Kaz's annoyed expression didn't help you maintaining a straight face.

"I'm not paying you to stand here doing nothing, get back inside." he ordered.

Everyone turned back inside but Jesper and Inej.

"Boss, if Y/n now gets double, just know i'm great at flirting too." stated Jesper as Kaz made his way back to the club, you in tow.

He ignored him and whacked him with his cane. Again. Jesper had now yet another lovely cane story to add to his collection.

"You'll never let him forget it, won't you?" you whispered. Jesper looked at you like a child who had just entered candy land.

"Never."

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[cupids-crystals]

Hi friends!! Thank you so much for 1.2k!! I’m so grateful for all of you, and I can’t thank you all enough for being a part of this journey!!

For this milestone, I’m inviting everyone to visit my pumpkin patch themed celebration!! Visit as many times as you’d like, my inbox is always open!! This will last from September 10th - September 13th!!

Closed

Navigation Masterlist

🍂 fall festivities - tell me your favorite fall activity and I’ll ship you with a Harry Potter character!! (please include gender preference)

🎃 jack-o-lantern jinxes - send me a picture of a couples costume (sfw) and I’ll tell you which Harry Potter character would dress up with you!

🍺cider stories - pick one prompt from this list and a character (open to mcu and Harry Potter) and I’ll write a blurb (full)

🕯candlelit confessions - tell me one random fact about yourself and I’ll tell you which Harry Potter character you remind me of!

🥧 pumpkin pie pleasantries - (moots only!!) I will give you a compliment!! This is open to all moots, even if we don’t talk often!

🧺 bountiful baskets - ask me anything! cym, kmk, would you rather, and anything else you can think of!

Mutuals tagged below the cut:

@violetlilysunshine @pepper-up-potion @lonelyhe4rts @velvetcloxds @sheraayasher @sarahisslytherin @dreamcxtcherr @mendesxruel @mellifluousart @wolfstar-lb @just-a-smol-spoon @ameliasbitvh @arcaneslut @hellounicorn @mwahforpeter @loonyloopylupin5 @horrorxweasley @nancybycrs @saintlike78 @leydileyla @ladyvesuvia @pad-foots @ughgclden @angel4you @uraveragelesbean @messers-moony @pansyspet @acciorxses @dr4cking @henqtic @weasleysandwheezes @happymoony @616films @percyweasleyspuff @inureflower @oliverwoodmarrymepls @silverdelirium @wonderfilworld @dracossweetprincess @sereinegemini @bellatrixscurls @peppers-analytics @thegirlintheswivelchair @railmeharrypotter @word-addict-lisette @selenes-sun @oliverwoodmarrymepls @selenesheart @frecklesandfirecrackers @sweeterthansammy + the rest of my wonderful moots :)

[willowbleedsonpaper]

Muse

Theodore Nott x Reader

W.C. : 751

Theo needs a muse.

I need a muse.

That was the first thought Theodore Nott one Sunday morning the moment he first opened his eyes. He stared at the ceiling above his bed, the soft material of his covers still laid over his body as the thought ran relentlessly through his mind. He needed someone to be his muse.

He had sat through entire classes with the idea forming on his head, diving deeper and deeper as more pieces joined the puzzle of the image he had inside his head. At night he stared at the ceiling, just as he was doing now, and waited for the remaining pieces of this puzzle to find its way to him. They never did. He didn’t remember falling asleep.

But now, as the sleep wore off from him he realized what he needed that he didn’t have last night.

*******

The small breeze that blew over your face drew a smile over your lips, your cheeks cold to the touch as you let out a soft sigh. “Perfect weather.” you murmured.

Your eyes opened to the faint sound of chatter, a soft laugh grounding you completely as your vision cleared.

Theo was descending the stairs from the castle, his tall frame and dark hair unmistakeable to you. He was holding something on his arm, his hand running along the stone on his side as he got to the hills that extended all around Hogwarts, just a few steps away from you.

Theo had found you that same morning in the halls just outside the Great Hall, a small frown adorning his face as he approached you. You got a few minutes of talk before his voice filled with more emotion and he asked you to help him with a personal project. Of course he captured your attention immediately, listening to his words carefully as he explained everything to you. You were friends but his question took you by surprise. Still, you accepted because you couldn’t deny you were curious and didn’t dare to miss the opportunity to just spend time with him.

He smiled at you the same smile that he had on his face once you agreed to his question that morning, sitting on the grass next to you in silence before he met your eyes.

“Hi” he greeted you slowly.

“Hello.” you answered with a soft smile, looking as he moved around with all the things he was carrying in arms, placing them before him with careful movements. “So,” you said with curiosity “What is it that you need me to do?”

“Keep me company.” he said, meeting your eyes now “Just sit here with me.”

“Sit…” you said, dragging the words “here with you?” you asked.

He nodded and you saw the certainty in his eyes. He had a way to convince you with one look, making you nod your head as you turned at the sunset. It was so beautiful outside you didn’t mind sitting with Theo there for hours, and even if it wasn’t that beautiful outside, just being with him made it worth it.

Hours passed and you felt none of it, sometimes making some talk with Theo but most of the time just being there, enjoying each other's presence. The blissful spell you were under was only broken by his voice.

“Y/N?” he called softly.

You hummed in response, opening your eyes slowly.

“I’m done.” he stated with a smile.

You immediately jumped to sit straighter, turning to him as your eyes danced from the notebook on his hands and his face. “Can I see it?” you asked.

He tilted his head but gave you the paper in his hand anyways.

You took it and started flipping the pages, only small words registering into your brain as you grew more confused “These are just words.” you muttered as you looked up at him.

“Exactly.” he said.

“I thought you were drawing. You said you needed a muse.” you laughed, returning to the first page as you started reading.

“I did.” he explained “You are my muse. I never said what for, though.”

“I inspired your writing?” you asked with glee.

“Maybe,” he said mischievously, taking the notebook from your hands “Or maybe it was just an excuse to spend an entire evening looking at you. You’ll never know.”

“Theo!” you squealed, jumping on your feet as he started running towards the castle. Your giggles started to grow louder as you ran after him. He wasn’t getting away from this so easily.

TAGS

Skittles

@iwritesiriusly / @trinimalfoyyy / @megaprincesscakes / @lunalovegoodsgirlfriend / @pogueslandia / @zaidlyn / @aconfusedslytherin / @abbott27 / @aconfusedslytherin / @the-lonely-poet-loves-to-weep / @dreamcxtcherr / @angelsandsorcery / @badass-yn

Theodore Nott

@regulusarcturusblack2008 / @s1ater

[velvetcloxds]

Hii loves, dance through the decades with me for our 300 followers celebration! Thank you so so much for all the love and support, your sweet words and endless kindness always warms my heart. We'll be dancing from the 16th to the 19th of August so put on your dancing shoes. <33

Anyone is welcome to come dancing with me.

Please only send one song per ask, multiple asks are more than welcome.

Please check my request info for which characters aren't invited to this decade dance.

Please specify what fandom you're cruising for.

We've got chaperones at this little gathering so let's keep it PG13 (no nsfw).

Also note, that due to the festivities, we won't be having any event days this week.

CLOSED !!! -> thank you to everyone who participated <33

___________________________________________

🍸- Do you love me- Give me a song from between the 50s-00s and I'll write the tiniest little dialogue around it.

🍨- She will be loved (moots only)- I'll tell you my first impression of you and you can do the same if you'd like.

🎞- A Sunday kind of love- Give me a little scenario with a character and I'll send you a gif for their reaction.

👛- Blame it on the boogie- Show me what you're wearing and I'll tell you who is taking you dancing. (Please specify your gender preferences)

💿- Never let you go- Pick a character and a decade and I'll tell you which song was playing while you slowdanced.

🌸- Daydream believer- Tell me a little about yourself and I'll tell you which decade I think you'd be perfect in.

🎙- Baby, I love your way- Ask me anything, this can be questions about me, cast your mutuals, would you rather- whatever comes to mind.

___________________________________________

Tagging my lovely moots, you all have such a special place in my heart, even if I haven't mustered up the courage to chat with all of you yet <333

@dreamcxtcherr @sarahisslytherin @oliverwoodmarrymepls @cupids-crystals @natashxromanovf @sheraayasher @piecesofem @saintlike78 @bellabadacadabra @dreamy-clousds @pepper-up-potion @marauders-lupin @remuslupininskirts @lonelyhe4rts @dracossweetprincess @mellifluousart @iliveiloveiwrite @peppers-analytics @queen-asteria04 @pad-foots @mendesxruel @hellomyweirdos @just-another-multifangirl @weasel-b33 @weasleysandwheezes @wolfyprongs @wolfstar-lb @happymoony @selenes-sun @sereinegemini @ladyvesuvia @heloisedaphnebrightmore @gxtitobxby @daisycinema @mauvea @destourtereaux @promenadewithme @henqtic @leydileyla @pxddyblxck @rons-whore @thatfictionalwh0re @fandom-life-12 @buckaroos-metal-arm @leahsficemporium @ladyvesuvia @jackys-stuff-blog and anyone that I may have stupidly forgotten, I still love and appreciate you dearly <33

MASTERLIST

[sereinegemini]

Six Feet Under || R.B.

Song: Six Feet Under—Billie Eilish

Pairing: Regulus Black x Gn!Reader

Word Count: 467

Summary: F/n visits Regulus’ grave and understands they will never stop missing him.

Warnings: angst (mention of death, heartbreak)

Author’s Note: For @dreamcxtcherr’s 3k writing challenge! I finally wrote it lol, the bolded lines are lyrics from the song

F/n stood in the graveyard, a small smile on their lips as their fingers skimmed along the blooming roses. Never before had they seen a flower—let alone a rose, their flower—sprout on his grave. And on this dewy spring morning, F/n couldn’t help but think it was a sign that he was there. That perhaps he may be gone from this earth physically but not in spirit, and he was trying to tell them it would be alright if they were to be happy again.

They’d only recently come to terms with the fact he was actually gone. That the snotty, pureblood Slytherin boy who’d turned to putty in their hands—gentle touches and stolen kisses, hard eyes but soft smiles—had given his life for a cause he’d believed in. Realizing that he’d been trying to protect them, all those years ago, when he’d broken things off. Because they knew now that he had accepted the Dark Mark.

And while they’d been heartbroken and struggling between missing and hating him, he’d been so, so afraid.

And oh, what they would give to go back and make sure he hadn’t been afraid alone.

After weeks of not seeing him, all they’d been able to conjure was a bit of hope that the next time their paths crossed they’d convince him to take them back. To tell him how they loved him with every inch of their heart, and how they could not bear to live without him. That they were infatuated with his charm and wit, and wished to fall asleep every night to the silk of his voice, wrapped in his arms and comforted by his warmth.

And while they’d wallowed in bed, longing to see him once again, he’d died in one final act against the Dark Lord.

Nothing but a memory resided in this grave. A plot of empty land marked by stone. Regulus Arcturus Black, 1961 - 1979.

And sometimes they found themselves staring up at the stars, wondering if he was indeed reunited with them—as he’d once said humanity, made of stardust, was when their lives came to an end.

“Help me, Reggie.” they croaked now, falling to their knees with a hand on the stone, “I’ve lost myself again, but I remember you always.” They couldn’t help the sad smile that spread across their face at the memories rushing back. Him flirting shamelessly with them. Throwing crooked grins their way. Finally asking them out after winning a match.

And now sobs racked their body and they knew they’d never heal. Not fully. There would always be invisible scars covering their heart. An unfulfillable coldness along their skin; because time would erase his touch. Because he was gone. And he was never coming back. 

And there was no crying him back to life.

Be notified of future fics!

[oliverwoodmarrymepls]

wow wow wow what?? so i don’t know how there’s 100 of you but thank you very much. i love you all. literally all i do is talk about oliver wood, so thank you for putting up with it <3

about me !!

as this is my first celebration, i obviously had to do a britney spears theme - she is my queen after all <3 send in as many asks as you want, you don’t even have to be following.

CLOSED !! ily all thank you for participating <3

oh when it comes to what characters and stuff, anyone from hp is fine, i don’t know many marvel characters well so maybe try to avoid them, and i like friends so maybe some characters from that? idk <3

i’m shit scared that no one is gonna interact PLS

🎀hit me baby one more time : song ratings (send me a song and i’ll rate it, and i’ll give you a song i think you’ll like)

🌷oops…i did it again : ships (send me a few facts about yourself and i’ll ship you with a character from harry potter - please specify gender and era)

💄toxic : fmk (send me three characters and i’ll say whether i’d fuck, marry or kill them, or any fmk variant if you want to shake things up)

🌺womanizer : cym (give me things to cast my mutuals as)

🦩criminal : mini playlist (give me a character and i’ll give you some songs that remind me of them)

👠if u seek amy : !moots only! (send me this emoji and i’ll give you a song that reminds me of you)

👅gimme more : headcanons (give me a character and i’ll give you a random hc - specify sfw or nsfw)

my wonderful wonderful moots who i love so very much:

@dreamcxtcherr @velvetcloxds @natashxromanovf @sheraayasher @sarahisslytherin @mollysolo @pepper-up-potion @percyweasleyspuff @jackys-stuff-blog @angel4you @wolfstar-lb @cupids-crystals @fucky-bucky @badonkadork @fizzleberries @itsmentalillness @queen-asteria04 @roonilwazlibweasley @amixedwitch @promenadewithme @lonelyhe4rts @heloisedaphnebrightmore @ozzyoswin i’m so sorry if i missed any of you, remembering things is not my strongpoint

[spxllcxstxr]

i’m back bc thT was fun

remus, marlene, james <3

AHHHHHHHH okokokokokok

I think this is easier than the lotr one, surprisingly

Husband: Remus. Same situation with Legolas, he’s been in my top 5 fictional crushes list for such a long time, it’s only right that I marry him. Plus, I think we would fit perfectly together

One Night Stand: ...Marlene. I do love her. I honestly just wanna kiss her lmao. If we could somehow still be friends after this one night stand that would be perfect please and thank you. She would almost make me choose her over Remus to marry. Almost.

Best Friend: James. Listen, of course I would kiss James, but like, he’d be more of a best friend. A bit too much energy for me, and I feel like we’re a tad too different personality wise to every work out romantically.

husband, one night stand, best friend

[drawlfoy]

wonders of ohio p.12

series masterlist general masterlist

pairing: draco x reader

request: nope! this is my original idea

summary: american high school student y/n y/l/n is in for the ride of her life when her senior year is interrupted by a rather strange exchange student. enter draco malfoy. (NOT a non magic AU. draco is a wizard and y/n is not)

warnings: language, portrayal of a rather unhealthy relationship (someone slaps the other person im trying to be vague here), draco is really pissy in this one, there is an element of dubcon (sort of) at the end but it's not actually nsfw

a/n: hey!! so ik it seems like i'm twisting this story around even more and there's a reason for that lmfaooo. i have the final part already written and it takes place during a set date later on in the year. i do have an outline and i do know what's happening now fdjsak. i think there will be 3 more parts to this story. thank you all for sticking with me :) if you're reading this ily

wc: 4.6k

tags ! @writeandtranslate @sycathorn-slush @gruffle1 @missmultifandommess @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell @yiamalfoy @crystalox @dracoismybabey @dreamcxtcherr @decaffeinated-turtle @marrymetheonott @felicityofbakerstreet @daedreamss @sycathorn-slush @writeandtranslate @erisdogwood @loveissupernatural @sycathorn-slush @big-galaxy-chaos @lilyrachelcassidy

“What’s there to talk about?” 

Her mouth went dry. “I...just don’t want things to be weird between us. I want to be friends. You know that. I think the fact that you kissed me mixes that up some.”

“You kissed me back,” he pointed out helpfully.

“Yes.” She swallowed. “So, where does that leave us?”

“Oh,” he said, his tone suddenly curdling. “I...well, what do you think?”

“I’m the one asking.” 

“Fucking hell,” he said, but there was truly no conviction behind it. “You’re really not going to let this go, are you?”

She blushed a fiery red.

“Look,” he said, finally looking up at her and sighing. Y/N instinctually flinched. The tired way he was regarding her made her worry. “I think you’re…”

“You think I’m…”

“I think you’re nice.”

“You think I’m nice?”

“For someone who wants to talk, you’re being rather stifling to the flow of the conversation,” said Draco. Her mouth clamped shut, but she still glared daggers at him. “I don’t have anything against you, I mean.”

“Are you rejecting me?”

“I was drunk,” he began carefully. Y/N was fighting back the embarrassment-induced nausea. “And I do things that I don’t really mean when I’m drunk. It was wrong of me to come into your room with you, to lie on your bed. It’s just that I spend all of my time with you, you know, and I don’t really have anyone else here who understands…everything about my situation.”

“So what you’re saying is that I could’ve been anyone?” Her voice grew shrill.

“It was a temporary lapse in judgment,” he finished, seemingly set on avoiding every single one of her answers. “I’m sorry. I didn’t consider the impacts of my actions at the time.”

“The impacts of your actions?”

“Yes, that is what I said,” clipped Draco. “Are you intent on making this discussion as hostile as possible or something? You asked for it.”

Y/N didn’t know what she’d been hoping to hear. After his little speech on how “pure” his blood was, she supposed she couldn’t be hurt. But he had seemed so genuine the night before. 

She must’ve been silent for too long, as Draco spoke up again. “Surely you understand that we come from different worlds. I’m not right for you. You’re not right for me either. We’re never going to be able to understand each other. It’s just not…this isn’t correct.”

“I was never proposing that we get married or something,” she retorted. 

“What were you proposing, then?”

“I just didn’t realize how deeply your disdain ran for me. I wasn’t proposing anything, really. I just wanted to know where your head was.” She swallowed. “And now I know. I appreciate you sharing that with me.”

Draco opened his mouth, then closed it. He was examining her face with an intensity that unnerved her. “It’s not disdain.”

“Trepidation, incompatibility, concern, misunderstanding, confusion, lack of attraction, however you want to put it, it’s fine. I get it. I apologize for grilling you so hard on this.”

He didn’t appear to have a response to that. Y/N tried her best to not show the hurt on her face. “Well, then. I think we’ve quite finished with that. Shall we talk about something else?”

“Please.” Draco visibly relaxed. “Do you happen to have time later this week to take me down into the city to look at the shop? We should try and get a start on finding the box.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?”

He shrugged. “Not for you. You’ll just drop me off.”

“And leave you for dead?” 

“Of course not. I know how to protect myself. Don’t be so overdramatic.”

She scowled at him. “Ok. Fine. Whatever.”

“So sullen today,” he drawled. 

She shuffled her feet on the ground. She hated it when he teased her in that voice of his. “Anyway, we need to start studying. Finals week is getting close. Sylvia and I normally host little study sessions together. Do you want to come? She’s having one at her house this week now that the snow’s clearing up.”

“I think I’ll be alright,” he said.

“That’s okay,” said Y/N, lying through her teeth. She knew, deep down, that Draco never had any interest in joining her for anything if it wasn’t necessary, but it always stung to be reminded of it. 

~

School started up again, and Y/N once again was caught up in the flurry of prepping for final papers and studying formula sheets. Her work was a welcome distraction from the disaster that was her feelings for Draco Malfoy. He seemed entirely set on pretending like the events on New Year’s Eve never transpired. His words still echoed around in her head: “I think you’re…nice.” It had to have been the most embarrassing rejection to date. It was so painfully obvious. Of course he didn’t like her like that. Of course, of course, of course. He was never interested in her, he was just lonely, isolated, and given an opportunity to act out on his most impulsive desires. 

He’d told her that she could hate him that night, so she tried. She tried so hard to wipe her mind of anything even slightly positive towards him, but it was too hard. There was really no one quite like Draco.

Y/N was deep in a particularly self-pitying train of thought as she dragged herself down the hallway of Sylvia’s house to the bathroom when she saw him.

“Y/N, right?” The voice was male, deep, and warm. 

She jolted, staring up at the figure that had just entered the hallway with her. He was tall. His hair was dark, almost black, and it looked wavy. “Um, yeah.”

“I’m Simon,” he said, but he didn’t need to. Y/N knew him. Well, she knew OF him. He’d always been off at boarding school when she came around Sylvia’s, but “twin brother Simon” had been a term used in the past. 

“Hi,” she said, berating herself for not having anything clever or snappy to say in response. 

Simon leaned up against the wall, smirking down at her. Y/N felt her heart begin to do cartwheels in her chest. “Sylvia always talks about you. It’s good to finally meet you.”

“She–she does?”

“Congratulations on UChicago,” he said offhandedly. 

“Oh, well, it was really noth–”

“Don’t be so modest,” he tutted, his dark eyes twinkling. Something in his demeanor made the situation seem to progress from a simple polite conversation to…something else. “That’s quite an accomplishment. Especially if you had to apply while housing a Malfoy.”

She blanched. “You know…”

“I know you know, yes,” he said, dimples appearing in his cheeks. He looked pleasantly amused, and the way he was looking over her made her body heat up. “I personally thought you should’ve been told from the start. If I’d been back from my fellowship earlier, I would’ve done it myself. Vy and I had a little tussle about that. She wouldn’t speak to me for weeks.”

“Believe me, I wish I had too.” She smiled up at him, letting her back rest against the wall of the hallway opposite to him. “For both of our sakes, honestly.”

Simon laughed. It was a warm chuckle that made her feel at ease immediately. “Well, I should probably disappear before she comes back and berates me for talking to her friends.”

“Does she not like you or something?”

“No,” he said, suddenly looking rather solemn. “It’s not that. I just think she doesn’t want me to accidentally slip up. I don’t spend much time around muggles anymore, you see, now that I’ve spent all my formative years at Ilvermorny.”

Ilvermorny. Y/N liked the way it sounded. “Is that why you’re so glad to see me? A muggle that you can finally talk to without watching your tongue?” 

He shrugged, but his smile remained. 

“I’m flattered.”

“Likewise,” he said, elaborating at the sight of confusion in her features. “I’m touched. The famous Y/N Y/L/N is giving me the time of day.”

“Sylvia does not talk about me that much,” responded Y/N in a scolding tone.

“She says enough,” offered Simon. “And so does Draco.”

“Did you two get along? When he stayed with you?” 

He paused. “Eh. I thought we were going to. He’s a tad cold.”

“And here I was, thinking it was just me.”

Simon laughed again, and she was treated with a flash of straight white teeth. “Neither of them told me you’d be so funny.”

“It’s probably because neither of them find me very funny.”

“Simon,” said an exasperated voice from behind them, “What did I say about talking to my friends?”

“Vy,” he greeted. “I’m well aware. But she’s not just a friend now, is she?”

Sylvia rolled her eyes as she appeared in Y/N’s line of sight, grabbing her twin’s arm and pulling them apart. “Leave the poor girl alone. She has enough broody wizards bogging her down.”

“At least this one’s nice,” joked Y/N. Simon met her eyes long enough to wink, and Sylvia just exhaled loudly. 

“Say your goodbyes. I’m confining you to the second floor until our studying is through.”

“Bye, Y/N,” Simon said over his shoulder as he ascended the steps. “See you around.” Before Sylvia let his arm go, he leaned down and whispered something in her ear that was unintelligible to Y/N from her spot in the hall. Whatever it was, Sylvia didn’t seem to particularly enjoy it, smacking his arm and shoving him up the stairs. 

“I’m so sorry about that.” Sylvia returned, a slight redness in her cheeks. “I told him to leave my friends alone. Was he bothering you?”

“Why are you so embarrassed of your brother?”

“He just isn’t very intuitive with what’s normal muggle lingo and what isn’t,” she explained as they walked down the hallway of plush maroon carpet. “And he certainly was laying it on thick with you. Did it bug you? Should I smack him next time I see him?”

“No, Vy, you can calm down,” responded Y/N, a nervous chuckle leaving her lips. “It was fine. Nice, actually. I didn’t realize just how much I wanted to talk to someone else about magic and Draco.” 

“You can talk to me.”

“I know…but…”

“Oh, my god,” said Sylvia, realization dawning on her. “You liked it. You like him.”

Y/N held her hands up in surrender. “I barely know him. He’s just…charming, I suppose.”

“He’s a complete manwhore at school. Of course he’s charming. He has witches throwing themselves at him left right and center.”

“I can see why.”

“Don’t talk about him like that in front of me,” said Sylvia harshly, apparently ending that conversation there. The rest of their study session went largely uninterrupted. They drank coffee and ate the scones that her mother had made as they reviewed worksheets and checked over each other’s calculations. Y/N had largely forgotten about the whole ordeal when Sylvia pulled her aside as she was leaving.

“Look,” said Sylvia, “I don’t normally do this, or condone this, but I suppose it would be beneficial for you to be able to talk to another wizard about this sort of thing…”

“You don’t normally do what?”

“Simon told me that he wanted your number,” she finished. “Would you like me to give it to him?”

Her eyes shot open, wide. “Um, yeah. I guess I’m fine with that.” She hoped that she was appearing very cool and collected and calm over this whole ordeal, but she had a sneaking suspicion that she was in fact not. 

“Cool,” said Sylvia, nodding aimlessly and toying with her fingers. “Cool. Sorry. This is just weird, I guess. If you’ll excuse me, I think I’m going to go throw up now.”

~

“And you’re sure you’re reading the directions correctly?”

“I’m fucking sure, Draco. I can read. I have an A in AP Lit, I’ll have you know.”

“You know I wouldn’t understand the implications of that.”

Y/N scowled at him from the driver’s seat as they circled around the streets of Cincinnati, searching for the old antique shop. “I just don’t understand. I thought it was easy to find. My parents saw it while they were driving. We’ve found it twice before. I’m not sure what’s going on.”

“Well,” began Draco, in that telling lecturing tone of his, “It’s probably because of the magical interference. I’m sure that your parents were able to see it after whatever was going on with that magically inflicted snow storm earlier. There’s probably still repelling wards set in place that are stronger now that muggles are actually on the streets again.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” she replied. It was funny, really, how willing Draco was to talk about the magical world. Now that she’d taken the vow, it seemed like he never shut up about the intricacies of magical interference or magical customs or how the muggle world was infinitely more bizarre in comparison. “I bet we might need to walk. I just realized we’ve never driven straight up to it. We’ve always found it by foot.”

Draco was quiet for a few moments. “I don’t know the city well enough to navigate it.”

“So I’ll go with you.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Either I come with you or I turn this car around right now. Or we drive in circles until we drive each other mad.” 

“Fucking fine.” Draco let out a dramatic sigh. “But you can’t go anywhere near it, okay? It’s not safe.”

“I turned out fine last time,” she offered, only partly joking. Draco rolled his eyes in response. 

They parked on a familiar block that Y/N knew to be a reasonable walking distance away from the antique store and began their trek. They were walking closer than they needed to, she noticed. Her shoulder lightly touched his and they walked in stride, their hands occasionally brushing. Neither of them acknowledged it. 

While they walked, Y/N allowed her mind to wander. Simon had texted her the night after the study session and they’d been talking essentially non-stop since. He was just as charismatic and charming over text as he was in person. He was attentive, remembered all the details about her that she wanted him to, and complimented her on her intelligence. It was all something she was supposed to want. But she wasn’t excited about it, for some reason. It felt…wrong. Maybe it was because he just wasn’t Draco. Y/N stole a glance at her walking partner to find him already looking back, immediately wrenching his gaze away when their eyes met.

“I think we should just make one more right turn and then it’ll be in front of us,” she said, mostly to explain why she’d stared at him. It wasn’t as if she’d been offering directions throughout the entire voyage.

Sure enough, the antique shop was there, the abandoned strip mall as eerie as ever.

“Where’s all the graffiti that my Dad mentioned?”

Draco studied the scene before them. The windows of the antique shop had been boarded up, but apart from that, it looked entirely fine. “It’s probably an effect brought on by the wards. It’s charmed to look unappealing to muggles.”

“So why can I see it?” 

“Same reason why I can’t obliviate you using a cube designed for muggles,” he said. “When I pulled you out of that weird dream sequence of yours, I must’ve left a magical signature on you or something. That’s what the Ministry said, at least.”

“Oh.”

“You stay outside,” he said firmly. She waited a few beats before following him in, wrenching open the door.

“What did I say, Y/N?” Draco snapped as he spun around to glare at her.

She held her hands up. “Sorry, sorry.”

He studied her for a few more moments before frowning and sighing. “I suppose I could use you. You’re the one who saw the box, after all.”

They began to search through the rubble. Draco forbade her to touch anything, so she sat on one of the empty tables and pointed. It was a dim, dusty store that had clearly been abandoned for some time. Y/N couldn’t help but wonder if the owners had known what had happened with her and the box. Why else would they have closed?

“Is it this?” He held up a light brown box, no markings on the exterior and its condition rather new.

“No,” she said. “Like I said, it’s black. And it has a weird spiral mark on it.”

“Merlin’s Mark.”

“How was I supposed to know that?”

“Forgive me for being cordial and offering further elaboration.” Draco scowled at her over the stack of miscellaneous items. 

“I’ll think about it.”

If it had not been before, it soon became very clear that there was no lead. He stood up, brushing his hands off and looking rather gray.

“Are you okay?” she asked him as he opened the door for her.

He shrugged, opening his mouth to answer when someone else spoke first.

“Y/N? Imagine seeing you here!”

She spun to see Simon and Sylvia meandering down the street. dressed warmly in scarves and long black cloaks that seemed to float across the ground. Simon’s face split into a grin when their eyes met. “Oh. Hi Simon!”

“No ‘hi’ for me?” prodded Sylvia gently.

“Hi, Vy,” Y/N added. The twins stopped in front of them a few feet away. Simon towered over everyone but Draco, who she could tell without looking was staring daggers at Simon.

“Grimauldi,” Draco greeted smoothly, but Y/N could hear the tension in his tone.

“It’s lovely to see you too, Malfoy,” returned Simon, never sacrificing the dimples in his cheeks for a stonier face. “What brings you out here?”

“Just antiquing,” said Draco, too casually. “Though it seems that this place is closed.”

Simon tilted his head. He was still smiling, but there was something a little too calculated about it, like he was sizing him up. “Is that so? I’m surprised you would take Y/N here after everything that happened.”

“I insisted,” said Y/N, jumping in. “I have to drive him everywhere anyway, and he was getting sick of hearing me pester him about leaving me alone in the city.”

“You shouldn’t hang around places like this,” said Simon, his smile fading into a more serious expression. “You could really get hurt, you know? Vy over here feels awful about letting you into the store the first time around.”

Sylvia nodded gravely. Draco stood, his jaw clenched.

“I tried to keep her away,” was all he said.

“Clearly not hard enough.” Simon sent a rather petty look his way before beaming at Y/N again, dragging his eyes up and down her scarlet coat-clad form. Once he was done appraising her, he spoke again. “You look really nice in red.”

“Um…thanks.” Her cheeks grew hot at the compliment. 

“It was great seeing you,” said Draco, before grabbing her hand and pulling her away. “We should be going. Goodbye.”

“Bye!” Y/N echoed as she struggled to keep up with his fast pace. Once they were out of earshot, she turned to frown at him. “That was kind of rude, Draco, to just grab me away like that.”

He was still holding her hand, and once her fingers flexed in his grip, he seemed to realize this and drop it. “They weren’t exactly the definition of chivalry and manners either, were they?”

“Sylvia’s my friend!”

“Is Simon too, then?”

“He’s been nothing but nice to me,” Y/N said, her tone bordering on defensive.

Draco was furious. She’d never seen him that mad. It clearly went past mild irritation or frustration. His lips were fixed into a tight scowl, his jaw tight, and his eyes dark. “Is he now?”

‘He’s been perfectly civil.” Y/N frowned.

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Sure he is.”

“Well what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that I think you’re being extraordinarily dim right now,” said Draco. He met her eyes, and something flashed across his face. Something that looked like regret. “Even for a muggle.”

White hot anger coursed through her. The slap rang out before she realized she’d done it. Her palm stung from the impact, and Draco just stared at her, his rage temporarily forgotten and replaced with shock in his eyes. 

“Fuck you,” she seethed. “You don’t get to speak to me like that. Ever. I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you need to get it together. If there’s something about Simon that I don’t know about, then tell me that. Don’t act all high and mighty and blame it on the fact that I wasn’t born to a magical family when you don’t even know your multiplication tables. Fuck.”

They were silent on the ride home. 

~

“So you hit him?” Sylvia clutched at her the mug in front of her the next day as they ignored the group work they’d been assigned on French romanticism.

“Do you think I should apologize?” Y/N rolled a pencil between her fingers, feeling the ridges press into her skin. Her hand still tingled with the memory of the impact she felt of her hand on his skin.

“Honestly, no,” said Sylvia. “What he said was really fucked up. I can’t say I’m exactly surprised, though. When you first told me that Malfoy was staying with you, I was really worried. This is the type of shit his family is known for saying. I’m more taken aback by how long he waited to show his true colors.”

“I don’t really know if it’s his true colors,” said Y/N, softly.

“What makes you think that?”

Y/N met Sylvia’s eyes, her heart pounding. “He kissed me. Or, well, I did, I guess. On New Year’s.”

Sylvia set her mug down with a pronounced bonk. “I fucking knew it. I knew I was picking up on something.”

“Vy!”

“I’m sorry,” said Sylvia, though she did not look sorry in the slightest. “I just need to bask in the glory of this for a bit. God, I was right.” 

“Well, not to burst your bubble or anything, but I don’t really think he sees me as anything,” said Y/N. Bitterness crept into the edges of her voice. “We talked about it the morning after. He seemed to really regret it. He implied that I could’ve been anyone.”

Her friend frowned, tapping her pen on her notebook as she thought. “There’s gotta be a reason as to why he’s doing this. Just let me think.”

“Knock yourself out.”

Y/N busied herself with the group work, which happened to pass much quicker than she was expecting despite the fact that her partner was off in another world, deep in her thoughts.

“I got it,” she said suddenly, 10 minutes after she had originally gone silent.

“Blow me away.”

“I know I wasn’t imagining anything,” began Sylvia, sitting up straighter. “He just looks at you differently. He treats you differently. I know he likes you. It was so obvious when I saw you two downtown.”

“Doubtfu–”

“Just let me finish,” cut in Sylvia, waving Y/N off. “Just think about how he was raised, Y/N. He was raised to be afraid of people like you. He’s probably just scared. He doesn’t know how to deal with it, so he’s pushing you away to make you not like him anymore. Plus, Simon is probably a trigger for him. Seeing someone else, especially another wizard, flirt with you must really frustrate him. Like, he must not know any wizards who date muggles. That’s his only hold up with you. But to watch Simon not care about that? I think it must make him feel weak, knowing that he’s the problem.” 

“How very complicated of him,” drawled Y/N, in a tone that was eerily reminiscent of Draco. 

“He likes you,” repeated Sylvia. “He really does. I can tell. I’m normally not wrong about these sorts of things.”

And she normally wasn’t. Y/N felt a pit deepen in her stomach as she felt another vibration come from her phone—it had been vibrating for the past few minutes. When she slid it out to discreetly check without the teacher noticing, she saw that almost all of them were from Simon.

hey you, i have a proposition

so as you know it’s vy’s bday in a few weeks

well, mine too, but that’s not the point

since i’m finally around for it, i want to throw a surprise party for her

do you think you could help? 

i was thinking that maybe you could invite her over to your house to study and then we could set it up there

i don’t want to put you in a position where you feel obligated to host so plz dont feel bad if the answer is no

Smiling, Y/N tapped her response back.

~

“Draco?”

He looked up from his work at the kitchen table, not bothering to verbally acknowledge her. It had been over a day since they’d last spoken. Draco’s face was blank. 

“I just wanted to, um,” she began, fidgeting and pressing on her nailbeds, “I wanted to say that I’m sorry for slapping you. I don’t think I’ve ever done that to anyone before. What you said just hit a sensitive spot for me. I’m still a bit angry at you for implying that I’m inherently intellectually inferior, but I should’ve just called you a bitch or something.”

“Not nearly as effective, though,” he offered after gazing at her for a few moments. He didn’t look angry. If anything, he looked rather conflicted. “I suppose I deserved it. If you’d like to slap me again in retribution for taking so long to apologize, you may.”

“I’m not a sadist.”

“You have a weak arm,” he told her matter-of-factly. “If it helps you sleep at night, it hurt more when you hit me with your locker door.”

“I keep telling you, that was an accident. You were standing in the way.” 

“You ARE a sadist, then,” he said, though his tone was light. “You’re smiling at just the thought.” 

And she was. She wasn’t sure when the corners of her lips had started to turn up, but she was so relieved that they were speaking like normal again that she couldn’t help it. “Shut up.”

He was about to say something else when the doorbell rang. 

“Stay right there, I’ll get it,” said Y/N. He shyly smiled back at her. 

“Hi!” exclaimed Y/N upon wrenching open the door. “What are you doing here?”

Simon stood on her doorstep, carrying all sorts of decorations in his arms. “For Vy’s party. I didn’t want you to feel like you had to get everything yourself.”

“Thanks,” she said, and she meant it. She beamed up at him, and he glowed back. Upon making up with Draco, she felt like she could run a mile and not break a sweat.

Simon seemed to misinterpret this enthusiasm to mean that she was that thrilled to see him. Upon settling the party decorations on the porch, he swept towards her. She didn’t even have a chance to process his movement before he brushed her hair away from her neck and pressed a kiss into her neck. His mouth was cold. She jolted away. 

“Bye,” he said, sending her a smirk before bounding down her steps and out of sight.

“That’s a new development,” drawled Draco’s voice behind her. 

final a/n: thank u all for reading. what do yall think of simon. is what he’s for a little too obvious? if he seems a little off you’ll figure out why soon. he’s a little deeper than just a rival love interest. also if you hate this because draco is ooc you’re 100% in the right. this is not draco anymore at this point because i cant imagine real draco doing any of this shit. anyway across the pond just needs to be edited and it’ll be finished soon!

[henqtic]

rescuing stray cats and giving them shelter + remus lupin

“remus, are you sure this is even safe . . . or legal?” you timidly asked your boyfriend as he outstretched his arms to pick up the meowing cats off of the frosted over concrete, huddled together in front of the corner store, attempting to capture even the tiniest amount of heat emitting off its outer walls.

“honestly, i’m more sure this is dangerous than it is safe and they’re strays lovie, they probably don’t get fed good, if at all — it’s definitely legal for us to bring them home,” he reassured with a small frown, looking down at the two little balls of dirty fur and shaking bodies, sad that you could’ve missed them on your way back home if there hadn’t been a long red light.

you soon grabbed a thick enough throw blanket from outside of the backseat of your parked car and wrapped it around the two cats, helping as remus placed them inside of the heated vehicle and proceeded to take off his own sweater and throw it on them, leaving himself with a thin t-shirt.

“oh please don’t look at me like that, it’s snowing out later, they definitely need it more than me.”

he looked at you with big eyes, his soft toned voice becoming more so as he attempted to ignore the goosebumps already arriving on his paled arms.

“i guess you’re not wrong,” you sighed as you pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, “all three of you are gonna have colds, you know that right?” 

“and you’ll be there to take care of us, now c’mon get in, i’m sure none of our friends are up to take care all of us, ” he closed the backdoor and opened the passenger seat for you as he talked. 

“i'm sure lily would force james — ”

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[scvrllet]

📃 with newt (tmr) and “perfect” by Ed Sheeran?

(The lines:)

Baby, I'm dancing in the dark, with you between my arms

Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song

I have faith in what I see

Now I know I have met an angel in person

And she looks perfect

Please and thank you!

(📃) SHEET MUSIC - send me a few lyrics (no more than five lines) along with a character and i’ll write a blurb

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Perfect by Ed Sheeran with Newt (tmr) x Reader

Baby, I’m dancing in the dark

With you between my arms

Barefoot on the grass

Listening to our favourite song

I have faith in what I see

Now I know I have met an angel in person

And she looks perfect

contains gender-neutral!reader and one alcohol consumption. (447 words)

With the last bit of fire burning, you hurried to clean up the mess that tonight’s bonfire had left you. All of the Gladers, aside from Newt, had gone to sleep already so you were looking forward to finally getting to bed.

Newt on the other hand, didn’t seem to worry too much. Humming a song to himself as he picked up some trash, he looked to not care at all that it was late and you all had to be up early for another day in the Glade.

“We should probably hurry up and get back to the homestead.” You told the blond who absentmindedly nodded his head before continuing the song. Sighing in defeat, you gathered the last bit of trash around you and threw it away before heading over to him.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t have taken so many cups.” You said, referring to the amount of Gally’s Secret Drink that he had tonight.

Newt only hummed in response, lopsided firm on his face as he emptied his hands and held one out for you. “Dance with me.”

“We should really be heading back, it’s late.” You replied but Newt stated persistent with his hand still outstretched for you to take. Rolling your eyes, you tried to hide the small smile that appeared on your face as you took his hand.

He led you both a few steps back to where the grass was clear of obstacles before pulling you towards his chest. He started off by swaying you both slightly, his hand in yours while the other rested on your waist and yours around his shoulder. Avoiding each-others feet as you tried to maintain eye contact was difficult but neither of you seemed to mind as you'd both simply brush it off with a laugh. Thankfully, this didn't happen as often as you danced under the moonlight together.

You couldn't remember if you'd learned how to dance before the Glade, you didn't even know where that song Newt was humming came from but despite all that, it all seemed so familiar. Perhaps you lived a life full of balls and parties where you'd dance the night away in someone's arms or maybe you were a professional dancer who performed before thousands. You would probably never know, but whatever your life was before the Glade, you were glad you still remembered this much to be able to enjoy this with Newt.

"Where'd you learn that song from?" You asked as he pulled you back to his chest and swayed you both side to side.

Newt's humming stopped as he thought.

"I don't know," He replied softly. "I've always known it, pretty good song as well."

FIN.

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[holden-caulfield]

Darker Than The Shadows

main masterlist

REQUESTED: "omg please make a part two to the “brighter than the sun” one shot- and please add me to your tag list :3"

SUMMARY: reader thinks back at her relationship with the darkling and wishes she could turn back.

WARNINGS: a little angsty maybe, but it ends with fluff

WORD COUNT: 620

A/N: part two of "Brighter Than The Sun", so i'd suggest reading that one before this, but it's not necessary :)

Was he really happy? You couldn't help but ask yourself this question as you saw him walking around the palace with her.

How perfect they looked together, the day and the night, light and darkness strolling together, as if you never even existed.

Did he really forget you that easily? Maybe he never cared about you, perhaps it was all lies. But they weren't for you: his little smiles, his warm embraces, him simply existing by your side, they weren't lies for you.

You remembered his smile, how bright it could be despite him being the shadow summoner. The same question repeated itself in your head: did he keep it for her? Would you ever see it again? It was once only reserved to you, and you had no doubt Alina now had the privilege of seeing it in private. The Saints know you would give everything to see it just once; the Saints know you would give everything to be the one it was dedicated to again.

You had thought about it. You could have told him everything, how you missed waking up next to him, how you missed him being the last thing you saw every day, how you missed his touch, how you missed his hair, his eyes, his everything. Your everything.

But he had made a decision, one you couldn't argue with. He had chosen Alina. You had to accept it.

It seemed unfair, for him to forget you so easily, for him to go on like nothing happened, for him to hold her hand as if it was yours. You knew you weren't the first and it was obvious you wouldn't have been the last, but it was unfair.

You avoided him, as much as possible, but it was hard to avoid him when you subconsciously looked for him everywhere.

"Can we talk, y/n?" it was unexpected. You hadn't heard his voice in so long; it was refreshing, it was deadly.

"Careful, people will see you with me." it was sharp, but it was your pain talking, you couldn't help it.

"I don't care, you know i never did." he stepped closer to you but you couldn't bear his presence, not when you knew you it wouldn't have lasted. So you stepped away.

"What do you need?" you asked dismissively.

He waited a few moments, inched closer; you didn't push him away.

"You." he whispered and chills ran down your spine. All of a sudden, it was like the first time you met: you felt nervous but excited, scared but eager.

"No, you don't." you replied, voice so low you didn't even hear yourself.

"I've always needed you and i'll always will." he started, "But i need to know something before i let you go."

You felt yourself going rigid.

"Are you happy?" he paused a moment. "Are you happy, without me?"

You knew the answer and in his eyes you could see that he wanted you to say it. He wanted to believe in it.

"Are you?" you asked.

He was staring into your eyes, every barrier he had ever built inside him couldn't stand a chance against you. He knew it, he shook his head no.

"Are you?" he mimicked, hope swirling behind those beautiful dark eyes.

"You've always been my other half, how could my answer be any different from yours?"

He didn't need anything else, he took your face in his hands and kissed you. Just like that, weeks of pain and longing vanished with a tender caress and his lips on yours.

"I left Alina." he whispered, his hands still cupping your cheeks, foreheads touching.

"Did you, now?" you asked, smiling.

"Of course, it's always been you."

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[daisybeewrites]

July — d.j.

for @dreamcxtcherr ‘s 3k writing challenge. congrats lena!!

word count: 1.8k

warnings: mention of car crash/death, mention of alcohol consumption, daisy cries, i think thats it lmk if not!!

ship: R x daisy johnson

okay y’all… first ever anggstttttt!!! i’m way too excited about it. if you want a fully immersive experience, i recommend listening to july by noah cyrus slowed + reverb

(gif uncredited on pinterest (ugh, i hate that. credit a gif if you use it!! im trying to find the owner)) update — found owner

It was another mission. Another nightmarish fire-fight where you almost lost a limb, almost lost a friend, almost lost your life. Twenty-four hours later and you’re back home, safe.

Well, as safe as you can be when your engagement is on the verge of breaking off.

You stare at the simple ring on your left hand. White gold band, a tiny amethyst set to the left of a diamond. There was a nearly identical one lying next to the sink, the only difference being the switched places of the glittering gems.

You know she didn’t do it purposefully. You had both been exhausted after what was supposed to be an in-and-out mission turned into a hostage situation. Daisy did what she always did as soon as you were home — take off her gauntlets, wash her hands in the sink, grab a snack, and hop into a steaming shower.

But you still can’t stop yourself from staring at it, eyes fixed, hands shaking, breath held and mind racing.

You used to join her. You would wash each other’s hair, ease each other’s sore muscles with delicate touches on tender purple-black bruises. She would lean into you, letting you braid her hair and falling asleep in your arms, drifting into a deep slumber. It was intimate, lovely; it was normal and perfect.

Taking a sip of your room-temperature beer, you slide off the cool granite of the kitchen island. You had a new routine after missions now, you just had to get used to it.

You hear the shower shut off, bare feet pad into your cosy bedroom, and the door shut with a loud creak. The minute squeak of the mattress tells you that Daisy flopped into bed.

A ghost of a smile lights your face. It looks more like a grimace, you think, as you check your distorted reflection in the green glass of your beer bottle. Chucking the empty bottle in the recycling, you run a hand through your dirty, salty hair. The comfy sweats you changed into an hour ago would need to be washed, the dirt still adorning your skin rubbing off on the black material. You exhale before heading down the hall towards the bathroom.

The tiled room is filled with steam, the mirror fogged up so that only a blurry outline of your silhouette could be seen. You are unrecognizable.

How fitting.

The quick, cold shower you take does nothing to ease your mind or body. You wipe the mirror in a circle, taking out a first aid kit.

With all your cuts bandaged and the proper creams Jemma had snuck to you and Daisy applied to your fresh bruises, you headed into the hallway in your towel.

Daisy is standing in the kitchen, lilac lounge shorts you bought her last Christmas showing off her tanned and scarred legs. She looks warm and soft, a very different Daisy than the superhero who had broken a mob boss’ legs just hours before. Her hair is wet and in braids. You frown. You always braid her hair.

If she hears you, she doesn’t turn around, so you take a moment to admire her. Ten seconds, that’s all you give yourself. It was a stressful mission, if you stare too long she might snap. From the back, you can’t see the dark circles you know are there, but you can see the tension in her shoulders and the slight tilt of her head as she ponders what to eat.

You say nothing as you go to the bedroom to change. You find a black pair of SHIELD sweats and an old, holey t-shirt you vaguely remember stealing from Fitz. A presence at the doorway catches your attention.

“Hi,” Daisy says tentatively. Your breath caught in your throat, your lungs holding the air captive until Daisy spoke again.

“I missed you.”

Your eyes widened. Maybe tonight wouldn’t end with one of you on the couch, clutching a six pack while the other cried as quietly as possible, tucked into cold, lonely sheets.

“Braiding my hair, I mean,” She clarified. Her fingers twisted together, rigid posture giving away her nerves.

The air felt humid, as if the open window had suddenly sucked all the AC out and let the mid-summer heat in. Your memory flashes to the last time you and Daisy had a normal, happy conversation.

The edges are fuzzy, but the pure joy in Daisy’s chocolate eyes is clear. Fairy lights strung haphazardly around the living room, a movie playing in the background, your lips on hers. Blankets make a ceiling over your head that shut out the rest of the world, this moment was only for you two. You played with the thin metal band on her ring finger, she ran her hands through her hair. Her matching ring scratched your scalp lightly. You both smile as you pull away. You whisper childhood stories, laugh at the funny parts and offer melancholic smiles at the not-so-lighthearted parts. You were happy.

That night you got the call — Lincoln Campbell, yours and Daisy’s best friend, had wrapped his car around a telephone pole coming off of a long shift at the hospital. His blood alcohol was almost .40.

Eggshells littered the house from the time you got back from the funeral. One wrong word, Daisy would snap and spend hours punching a bag until her fingers bled. You would fill those hours with whatever was closer — wine or your car keys. You pulled yourself out of your head, realizing you should answer her.

“I missed it, too,” You breathed.

Daisy made a small, unintelligible noise before collapsing against the door frame. You froze for only a second, your mind racing through possibilities. Was she bleeding internally? Was it her back again? Did she get shot and not notice until now?

You leap over to her, catching her as she crumbles to the hardwood floor.

A quiet sob wracks her chest. Your hands hover over her slouched back, unsure how to comfort her. At this moment, Daisy feels foreign. Her sudden vulnerability alerts you to how she’s been holding her emotions in for god knows how long.

“Daisy…” You start, hesitantly.

Daisy hiccups loudly, another wave of tears washing over her.

“Tell me to leave, I’ll pack my bags,” Daisy cried, “But I don’t, I-I don’t want to lose you!”

Burning tears gather on your lash line, threatening to fall at her words. You never could stand to see Daisy cry.

Your brows furrow slightly in confusion before you realize what Daisy is talking about. After Lincoln’s death, you two had fought increasingly more often until Daisy locked herself away or spent the night at May’s, and you went for drives until your car ran on empty. On those nights, bottles of wine disappeared from the cabinet without a trace.

Daisy sits up, stamping down her sobs, seemingly resigning herself to the fact that you aren’t going to say anything. Her trembling lip and red eyes pierce your heart. The astronomical distance between you two seems atomic now. You reach out quicker than lightning, shushing her cries and rubbing her back.

“Do you want to go?” You asked after a while. Your knees dig uncomfortably into the floor, your shoulder hurts from the ridges in the doorframe.

Daisy sniffles, her hair falling into her face as she looks away. You crane your neck down, carefully tucking her hair behind her ear.

“You know I’m afraid of change, I guess that’s why we’ve stayed the same,” You sigh, your chest constricting and squeezing the broken glass pieces of your heart.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself to continue, “But if you want to find a new life, someone who loves you better than I do, darling, I understand.”

Daisy is still frozen, stare burning holes in the floor. You’re glad that the two of you are at home, the poly-tectic adaptive materials hidden between the walls keeping the house from collapsing. By the slight groan of the foundation, you can imagine Daisy could bring down a mountain with the amount of pain she’s in.

Which can only mean one thing.

“I’m not enough,” You stated. It wasn’t a question. You glance down, a glint in the low light cast from the lamp on the bedside table catching your eye. She has her ring on…

Daisy finally, finally shakes her head ‘no’. You let go of a breath, guilt building every second that passes. She isn’t happy. You shouldn’t be happy that she’s staying.

“Feels like a lifetime, we’ve been trying to get by while we’re dying inside,” You say, gently.

Daisy snaps her eyes to yours, a desperation in them you recognize as grief.

“So much of the past year has been consumed by grief. We never took time off, we never talked about it. I’ve done a lot of things wrong, loving you being one,” She whispers.

You nod, there is no denying that you each had a part in getting to where you are now. Delicately, you grab her hand. She squeezes it, a rush of small vibrations traveling up your arm. Your chest flutters at the familiar affection.

“So have I,” You assure her. She gradually falls towards you, exhausted. You let her rest her head on your shoulder, her breath evening out as her arms wrap around you. You feel hot tears flow down your face, fall onto her hair. Slowly, you pull Daisy closer to you.

Hours later, the sun peeks over the top of the mountain range in the distance. You had adjusted the two of you sometime around two a.m., no longer able to feel your legs from how the floor cut off your circulation.

Sometime around three, you had gathered the courage to move Daisy to the bed, trying hard not to wake her. She had only turned over and not let go of your hand.

You haven’t slept at all tonight, thoughts spinning until you force yourself to pause and count to ten, only to repeat the pattern.

You know what you have to do. You know what’s best for the both of you. You’ll leave, pack your bags and find a place to stay until you can scrape up enough money to rent an apartment. You’ll go to therapy, learn to live without Lincoln, without Daisy. Eventually, Daisy will heal, too. You both have the team at your backs, no matter what happens. She would be okay.

But you know you won’t. The fear of losing Daisy, of losing your life, your home, yourself stops you. You can’t move on. You can’t move forward.

You know that the big changes it takes to heal could cost you Daisy. So, you stay the same. You give into fear. You’ll never be enough, never love Daisy right, never quite heal fully — and neither will Daisy. But you still stay.

You’ll always stay the same.

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

ahhhh how was it? did you love it? any feedback? want more? put any thoughts/feelings/questions/concerns in the comments or my ask box!! i really enjoyed writing this and i hope you enjoyed reading it even more!!

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