#hp fanficion

[ttulipwritezz]

This Is Our Place.~ S.Black

Ootp! Sirius Black x gn! Reader

Synopsis: After azkaban, Sirius falls for his best friend's colleague, who just so happens to return his feelings. They find their place within the confines of a war. Perhaps they'll leave the Christmas lights up till January.

Wc: 2k

Warnings: lots of italics, probably grammatical mistakes, inconsistency, mentions of presents, Christmas, bad family (s.b), kiss(es), might be ooc idk.

The clouds began to form in delicate shapes, and the roar of thunder echoed through the gloomy room. The light from a candle illuminated the kitchen, in which you sat, your mind preoccupied with the thought of the incoming rain.

Preoccupied with the thought of having to take the clothes off the drying rack anytime soon or bringing all your potted plants indoors to avoid them drowning.

It was not an odd thing—rain—being that it was the end of August.

"Knock, knock."

You looked up from where a blank piece of parchment lay in front of you, curious to know the source of the words.

"You could just, you know, knock? Like a normal person,  Sirius."

You found yourself speaking before you could collect your thoughts. The said man glanced at the parchment once and looked back at your face, his lips curving up the tiniest bit at your attempt to lighten the mood.

"Who am I, if normal, love?" He chuckles with a crooked smile.

You let your eyes roam around his face, his hollowed-out cheeks, and his half-lidded eyes. He looks tired. You conclude.

"Do you want some tea? I was just about to make some.."

You weren't really, about to make tea, that is. Still, you found yourself speaking, wanting to comfort the man, even if just a little.

Sirius was, by no means, your friend. He was just a friend of your colleague, Remus. You'd joined Hogwarts the same year Remus did; being new, the two of you hit it off immediately.

It always amazed you how well of a grasp Remus had on DADA. And he returned the favor by complimenting your herbology. You were a couple years younger than Remus, at best, and had known of him and the infamous marauders during your time at Hogwarts. Sirius Black did intrigue you the most.

You knew he came from a wealthy family, a bad one—of course, by no means did you want to intrude on his family life, but the heart does what the heart wants—and that he found solace in the friends he called brothers.

When Remus introduced you to his falsely convicted friend, Sirius Black, You damn near fainted on the spot, not because of his (undeniable) handsomeness but because of the sheer fear of standing in front of a possible murderer.

Now, years later (two to be exact), you find yourself enamored by the faded gray of his eyes and the curved bridge of his nose, which, you reckon, has been broken at least once during his time at Hogwarts, noting the sudden halt in the curve that then sharply turns to the other side and resumes its path.

Maybe it is a little peculiar to be noting such details of his appearance that you can paint a picture of his past. Strange, they'd call it. But it's routine for you. A routine you find comfort in.

"Thank you, Love," he replies.

A mumbled "'course" leaves your lips as you put the kettle to boil on the stove.

Sure, you could use magic, but these mundane tasks that don't require it seem to bring a sort of normalcy to your life. Even if just for a moment, it stops feeling like you're in the midst of a war and that people aren't dying left and right.

You were only nineteen when the first wizarding war came to an end, when your friends lost their lives, and when the dark lord seemingly disappeared forever.

He hadn't; that much was evident from the current situation.

The tea was set in front of Sirius almost unknowingly. You had been a little into your head and had been going about the task with practiced ease.

"Thanks again, Love. When do you reckon the others will return?"

Remus, along with the other order members, had gone on yet another mission. They left Sirius, concluding he was too weak to fight right now, and you, as you'd offered to stay back.

"Any time now, and really, it's no problem,"

you replied, sort of bashful at both his gratitude and the endearment.

As if on cue, the door opened with a jingle of the keys, and numerous voices rang through the empty corridors of Grimmauld Place.

Remus stalked into the kitchen and put his left hand up, leaning against the doorway with his right for some sort of support, revealing a gash running from his middle finger to his wrist and a sheepish smile on his face as he looked at you. Immediately, wordlessly, you walked forward with your wand and began healing the wound.

Removing a tin of herbal paste from the drawer beside and handing it to Remus.

"How'd that happen? I thought this was a 'harmless' mission," you asked, quoting his reassuring words from earlier.

"I nicked myself on a broken shelf." As confident as he sounded, his lie didn't escape you.

All it needed was a 'really?' look on your face to get the truth out.

"Death eaters," he stated, defeated.

"You really ought to be more careful, Rem. It worries me."

You said that and guided him out of the kitchen to assess his other wounds, which included one on his arm and a twisted ankle.

Unaware that a certain raven head was watching you from the table, envious and defeated at failing at his attempts to talk to you. The rain began pouring down, and the clothes and plants still outside ran through your mind.

The rain mirrored the heart of the black, sitting at the table, gloomy as ever.

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

You'd last seen Sirius when Harry and the kids stumbled through the door of Grimmauld Place, bringing an unconscious, but thankfully alive, Sirius with them.

Harry had told you that he was leaving to retrieve his godfather from the ministry, mentioning something about a dream, but you weren't paying much attention after you'd heard the news. With Dumbledore's permission and assistance, you'd returned to Grimmauld's place to help in case they ever needed it. Praying that Sirius made it back alive.

The kids, along with Remus and a few other order members, laid the unconscious Sirius on the couch and went to clean themselves up as you offered to take care of Sirius in the meantime.

Once conscious, you dragged Sirius to the bathroom on the ground floor of the house, squeezing through the thin hallways and sitting him on the counter as you retrieved a first-aid kit from the cupboard.

"Couldn't you use magic to fix my wounds?" came his distraught voice, cutting your thoughts short.

"Do you want me to inflict pain on them? Just sit still. Besides, it's not like I'm a healer."

As you cleaned each wound with precision, one thought roamed your head.

It's not like they don't have wands—the death eaters, that is—they injured him in a way that seems almost muggle.

"If you're wondering how, it was Bellatrix," Sirius said, trying to suppress a hiss at the particularly deep wound on his arm, as if reading your mind.

"Your cousin?" you answered, or rather, asked, continuing and moving onto the smaller cuts that littered his face.

Humming, he let you get the rest of the wound cleaned.

You glanced up at his face when opening the packet of cotton, only then realizing how close you had been. His breath was fanning your nose as he stared deep into your eyes, no trace of guilt or shame in them, as if he trusted you wholeheartedly.

You could have sworn you saw him glance at your lips in anticipation. The thought alone swarmed your stomach with butterflies.

Only now had you realized how intimate your shared moments were and how he had always tried to enlighten your mood with his jokes. You thought it was his defense, his coping mechanism.

Though now it seemed amidst the war, all he tried to do was hear you laugh. By pausing your movements as if in a trance, you maintained eye contact with him. He looked so stern and so soft all at once.

In his mind swam thoughts of the previous night, when you cradled Remus's hand with such grace and concern.

His lips parted, and you wanted to kiss him. You don't know why, but you did. All you had to do was move your face half an inch forward, and his lips would crash into yours. You wanted to do it so badly.

And so you did.

His eyes fluttered close, and the arm that wasn't injured came up to grip your neck, light as a feather.

His hands caressed the tiny hairs on your neck and sent a tingle down your spine. The kiss was phenomenal.

You didn't sleep that night; the thoughts were fluttering in your mind even hours later.

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

"I kissed him."

As soon as those words left your mouth, Remus choked on his tea and had to take a moment to steady himself.

"You kissed whom exactly!?" came his exasperated voice.

"Sirius," you said sheepishly, suddenly feeling small under his wide gaze.

"I didn't even know you liked him," Lupin said as he went to dry his clothes from the tea.

"It just…sort of happened..you know-"

"no, I don't know y/n..what were you thinking!?" Remus was confused, and a part of him felt betrayed.

You liked his best friend, but he had no clue.

The patter of the rain outside added to the deafening silence that you left. The sound brought you back to the first night in the house, the night when you shared tea with Sirius.

Your eyes flitted to the scar running along the Lycanthropes hand, and you grimaced at the angry red surrounding it as it healed.

"Did you put the balm on it today? your hand, I mean " Your words cut through the silence like a knife, and you moved your hand toward one of the many drawers housing your herbal balms.

"You're deflecting, love... If it's any help, Sirius would much rather pretend nothing happened than act on his own; you're best off confronting him first."

Remus's words were assuring, but the tone in which he said them made you scrunch up your brows and tilt your lip downward.

"Umm, I'll see what I can do." Your hesitance was evident in your voice.

You walked back to your room after handing Remus the green and silver tin, silently reminding him of his wound.

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

On the other side of the house, Sirius lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking about the kiss.

His mind wandered to the feeling of your lips, his hands on on nape, and your gaze before it all.

Your lips. My lips.

"A Rubber Duck!" A shout came from the room beside him. Harry's room. They were playing a round of charades, he remembered.

Harry! Yes!

He should ask Harry. So he made his way towards their room.

"Harry, could I talk to you for a moment?" Just as Harry was getting up and ready to join his godfather,

"actually hold that-"

He turns to Hermione

"-Hermione!! You're a muggle. You'd know! of course" The hopeful tone of his voice sends Ron into a laughing fit, and Harry's mouth twitches into a grin as Hermione sits confused with a frown.

After discussing the matter with the kids, Sirius decides he's done with his stupid old ways. He wants to say something; make the first move.

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

It happened on christmas eve.

Everyone had taken to opening presents under the large tree at the living room.

After watching Ron fawn over his new wizard chess set, you decided it was time for a much needed break.

"I think i'm going to go make some hot chocolate...anyone want some?" You asked, already getting up to yout feet.

Most of them nodded no and you only just realised all their mugs were rather full.

Making your way into the rather small kitchen of grimmauld place, you got out your wand to help make your hot chocolate.

"Knock knock" a familiar raspy voice came from the doorway.

An odd sense of deja vu enveloped you and you turned around to look at the source.

"you could just knock. Like a normal person" you repeated your words from the previous day.

The relationship between you and sirius had strained quite a bit after that shared kiss.

"sorry love, how's your day going so far?" He asked, seemingly trying to dissipate the awkwardness from the air.

"Alright...i suppose, what about you?" You replied with just as much hesitation.

"Good." And it stopped at that, the conversation.

Only now did you realise just how close he had gotten. You backed yourself away slightly, only to find your leg hitting the back of the counter.

The world seemed to be silent as the sound of your breaths mingled with one another, accompanied by the ticking clock.

The noises in the living room had become nothing but a blur and muffled by your thoughts.

"I really like you y/n. I truly do" Sirius spoke first, drawing your attention from the planes of his face

"Huh?" Your reply came meek and unsure.

You weren't even sure you'd heard it right.

"i like you." He reiterated.

You did hear it right.

Your knees felt weak but at the same time you were on cloud nine.

Before getting the chance to gather your thoughts you found yourself speaking..

"I really like you too sirius"

your voice came out just louder than a whisper, you're sure he wouldn't even have heard it.

His next words sent a flurry of butterfiles to your stomach.

"May i..?" You noticed him glancing down at your lips and back at your eyes.

You couldn't stop the smile that bloomed on your face as you nodded yes.

The kiss was diferent than the last, less desperate yet more passionate. It was slow, steady and loving.

You could feel his smile against your lips before you pulled apart.

"I've waited so long to do that" his voice came a mere whisper

Your eyes followed the movement of his lips, which were on yours moments ago.

" I...umm got you a gift" he continued, his hesitation surprising you.

Forcing your eyes to look back at the grey irises you managed to let out a breathless

"what?"

Sirius pulled out a box, a small one of velvet, the kind that would normally house a ring, now held a singular locket that was shaped as a star.

"A star...for my star" he said

You couldn't stop the heat from spreading to your cheeks, eyes widening a touch and lips quirking up the slightest.

Two voices giggling could be heard from the kitchen that night.

The whole night.

A/n: I spent WAYY too long on this- and the ending is super rushed lmao i hope you enjoyed it and all reblogs help me reach more ppl! I had sm fun writing this. i'm v proud of this ❤️❤️

[poisonghoull]

cuz how didn’t I realize I wrote 64 fucking pages of a scorbus fic until I was transferring it from docs to notion

[thedyingtimelady]

A Crush on someone isnt that simple

Prolog 1/2 (Hogwarts 1880-1887)

The Bloodline was for some Wizard Families the most important thing in the world. At the second Place, it was the Rank of Power. Why should a Woman from a wealthy Family, marry an Caretaker? With no Rank, not enough Money and without any Power in this world? Luckly, Violets Family wasnt like this. Her Father, A Muggle, died when she was very young. She only remembers fragmets of him. But all of them were really lovely. Her Mother Remarried almost five years later an very rich Wizard. He was kind and didnt disrespected Violet in any ways, for being an Halfblood. Her Step-Father came from a powerful Pureblood Family, but his Rank wasnt something he was very proud off. He didnt had his nose in the air, looking down at others for their blood. The Heart was important for him. And in the same way he wanted to let his daughter marry an lovely man, who would treat her right. As Violet Stone came to Hogwarts, from where she heard many stories from her mother, her excitment couldnt be stopped. For her next five years, she spend time with her friends, she learned a lot in this wonderful school and saw a new world, she never thought would really exist. As she turned 16, the world around her started to change. Many girls in her year began to talk about marriage right after school. Some were already engagend to men they never met, or only met a few times. Some of them were in the same age as the girls, and some where much older. But it was normal. Normal for them. Not thinking about having an carrier. It was important to keep the bloodline flowing. Not one of the boys were really attractive for her. Some were nice, but not really interesting. She was a late bloomer, some girls snickering behind her back, but that didnt bother her much. Her Parents didnt pressed her into an marriage she didnt wanted. One day, one of her friends started to sigh in frustration. "Whats going on Rita? Are you alright?", she asked her friend. "No. I am not. I have to help Mr. Moon with the Thestrals, but I dont want to! I cant even see these things!", she hissed. "I can see them. I can do it for you", Violet simply replied. Rita blinked and looked over to her. Her voice filled with worry. "You.... can see them?" "Yes. I saw my dad die right infront of me. An Heartattack. I cant really remember it, but my mum told me, I sat next to him, until she came home. Thats why I can see them", she shrug her shoulder. She loved her dad, but she couldnt remember his death. And she was happy with it. She didnt want to rememeber this gruesome memory of hers. She wanted her dad happy and alive in her memories, what it does. She smiled and went out, over the north part of Hogwarts, to the barns, where the Thestrals lived. From far, she already spotted Mr Moon, leaning against the wall. He was waiting for Rita, thats for sure. She felt the warmth in her cheeks rising. While others had crushes on Professors and or their Fiancé, the caretaker of Hogwarts made her heart move and beat louder for any perticular reasons. He was very good looking in her eyes. He was originally from Korea, in his early 30s and kind to her. She helped in a lot with tasks, or even swapped places with other student, who should help him in detention. Every reason she could be with him, she took the chances. "Hello Mr. Moon!", she waved and smiled happily. First the Caretaker blinked, than he sigh frustrated, before giving her a kind smile. "Again Ms. Stone? You know, you shouldnt just take the imposition of others. You are way too kindhearted for these rebels.", he shook his head, before going into the barns with her. "But Rita cant see the Thestrals. And I can. So please dont tell Professor Sharp, please?", she asked with a sweet smile. Mr. Moon roll his eyes, before laughing out loud. "Alright. Alright. Just because I like you. You're always a helping hand, so I wont snitch. But please take care of yourself too, okay?", he tilt his head. She nod and both started the work.

[nocturnal-phantoms-fandoms]

I just had a talk with my thesis supervisor and I want to check something real quick.

I want to write my bachelor's thesis about fanficion and AI - specifically about fanfiction writers' attitude towards the use of generative AI in fandom spaces

The survey (and the rest of the thesis) is still v much in the making, I just want to check how many potential responders I could reach from this account

Pls reblog after voting

What I can say about the survey for now:

1. The survey will be anonymous!

2. The survey will be in English (but the rest of my thesis will not. I am however required to write an abstract in English)

3. My supervisor said it's fine if I want to focus on one fandom - In this case it will be the HP fandom. However I would like to include as many reposnes as I can, so it will probably not be a requirement to be in the HP fandom.

4. You don't need to write fanfiction to take part in the survey (but there will be a question if you read and/or write fanfics). You need to be in the fandom though

5. You need to be over 18 (most likely)

I want to keep myself anonymous as well so there is a possibility I will have to make a separate sideblog/account for it.

If anyone will be interested in the results, for some reason - I am required to write the abstract in English, so I might share the abstract. Maybe. More info after I write anything for my thesis.

[myosotisua]

Hi guys, I'm new here. I'm a digital artist, who love HP, Stranger Things and Miraculous.

I speak three languages 🇬🇧🇵🇱🇺🇦

I have my own original characters, actually I made a bunch for them for my fanficion (Harry Potter/Miraculous crossover) Yeah, I know, it's sounds weird, but it's actually so good. Right now my fanfic exist in Ukrainian language, but later I will translate it into English (probably)

I'm meloman. But I prefer or old American songs (like really old 60s) or garage punk rock. But I really can listen almost everything 💅🏾

I have a pet, it's chinchilla, it's name -Selena ( not Gomez, but the Greek goddess)

In a few days , I will load there my arts, so pls follow me💜💜💜💜

[nightfalltwen]

Title: Unexpected Destination

Pairing: Draco/Lavender

Summary: A sunny vacation on the beach was just what the doctor ordered.  Or would have been if she'd ended up in the right place.  Though perhaps it was the right place after all.

Rating: R

Fest: @smutty-claus

Banner: by @frumpologist

[writersblockedx]

Love for Dummies, Part Six

Pairing - Fred Weasley x Reader Summary - With exams looming closer, the reader and Fred are left to panic as they cram for them all. Warnings - Mentions of Insomnia, exam stress? Words - 1.7K

Series Masterlist   Main Masterlist 

A/n - I’m back at sixth form again which means I’m back to posting once a week rather than every two days and will soon begin to once more suffer from some good old writers block :( I hate it here. 

Saturday, 10:02pm

With love smitten between Angelina and George, the four of you returned back to Hogwarts, weaving your way into the Gryffindor common room. There, you continued with your easy conversation around the crackling fire. You and Fred took first dibs on the sofa, leaving Angelina and George to snuggle within each others arms, tangled under a blanket. And before you even realised it, the conversation turned into the happy couple enthusing over the Yule Ball together.

You didn't even have to look at Fred to feel him shift. The mention of ball that he was banned from, seemed to sting at his chest. You glanced to the boy and nudged his arm as to bring his attention to you, "Maybe this is the part where we start actually studying." You suggested. Within one look to the boy, it was obvious he yearned to spend that Christmas eve night there, surrounded by his friends. But none of that was going to happen if you weren't able to sway McGonagall's opinion.

Fred shuffled closer as to not disturb the lovey-dovey conversation in front of you. "Maybe I should try get some sleep first." You both knew it had been weeks now since the boy had actually received a decent nights sleep.

Fred then huffed dramatically and leaned back as for his head to land in your lap. You could do nothing but watch as he starred up at you with that cheeky grin of his. "As long as you're doing it legally." You made sure to remind him

With that said and Fred gave no reply, the boy found comfort in your lap. Before he knew it, Angelina and George's conversation became nothing but background noise, blurred with the crackling of the fire and the sound of your breath.  And that background noise seemed enough for Fred's eyes to flutter shut and for his mind to be lulled off to sleep.

Monday, 12:34pm Lunch

You and Angelina had been walking towards the Great Hall, eager to fill your stomachs with food. Just as you were about to reach the doorway, a voice yelled out from behind the two of you.

"Y/n!" You stopped. "Y/n!" Both you and Angelina spun on your heels, watching as Fred jogged down the hallway to catch up with you. There seemed an expression on his face with you couldn't quite work out. At least, not until he came close to you, hands moulding against your shoulders, a sense of panic written all over his demeanour. "They've set the exams."

"I'm going to leave you two to this one." Angelina spoke, already slipping into the Great Hall for that much needed food you still craved.

Still, despite your hunger, you glanced back at the red-headed boy. "What exams?"

Fred rummaged through his bag as he went on, "End of year exams. The same ones which McGonagall will use to determined whether I can still stay at Hogwarts. And, more importantly, if I can got to the Yule ball." Of course Fred's priorities was still unbalanced, but you were just glad he actually cared a bit for the improving grades. A few weeks ago, you doubted he even had a thought about his slipping grades.

A smile graced at your lips as you stared up at the boy. "We should probably focus on the grades before the dance, yeah?" You reminded him.

"It's always good to have a goal at the end of the journey, Princess." He told you with a glint of that cheeky grin which you had found yourself longing for lately.

"Shouldn't the goal be better grades?"

Fred shrugged, "Better to have a goal that you actually want." You probably should have pointed out how better grades was something Fred should want, but you knew it was no use. Anyway, you should happy in the fact he actually wants to study now.

You took the sheet of paper he had pulled from his bag, his exam times all written down there for him. "So when's your first one?" You asked, even with the answer right there in front of you.

"Next week."

"Next week?"

Suddenly, your expression replicated Fred's panic as well. "It's potions, yeah." He added.

"Potions?" Of course they had to start with the hardest of all the subjects.

"At least have a bit of hope for me." Fred half joked as he adjusted to the worry which had settled in your pupils.

You shifted slightly, "I do it's just-" You paused, starring up at him. You didn't want to break this hope Fred seemed to have built up for himself, but to get passing grades within a week seemed an almost impossible task. "You're gonna have to study, a lot."

"Well I guess it's a good thing I have you then, isn't it?"

And so, that day, you and Fred met up after lessons and plotted out a revision timetable. After that, you felt less confident. It seemed no matter how many hours you dedicated to this subject, or another, there still wasn't enough time in the day. Not to mention, you were worried this pressure would only provide Fred with more sleepless nights right before exams. So, to say the least, it had been a tricky job to balance all that needed to be.

Friday, 3:56pm

Once more, as everyone scurried back to the dorms for the awaited Slytherin party, you dragged yourself to Fred's dorm. You were pretty certain this was the first time the boy was going to have to miss a party. But, in your favour, the Gryffindor common room was left empty.

You didn't bother knocking, it seems you never did anymore. "Hey," You greeted the boy as you walked into his dorm, clicking the door shut behind you.

Fred seemed to jump at your entrance. "Shit, you're here early." The boy stood tense, his body seeming as if it was trying to hide something that sat on his bedside table.

With furrowed brows, you lightly laughed at his actions. "Yeah, by about five minutes." You said, intently watching to see if you could catch what it was he was hiding. "Fred, is everything alright?" You couldn't help but question.

He seemed stuck at that. "Will you just turn around?"

Your brows furrowed even more at the boy. But still, you agreed. "Okay." You answered, confused but still did as he had asked, turning to face the door.

Your listened to him as he shuffled around, a few noises that you couldn't quite work out. But after a minute or so, the noise stopped and you felt Fred as he walked back over to where you were standing. "Okay, you can look now." You spun around impatiently, presented with some kind of box wrapped with a bow.

Your glanced from the box back up to Fred. "I'm confused." You uttered, honestly.

He couldn't help but laugh at you as you held out the box for you to take. "Just open it." He instructed.

Still very much caught in your confusion, you did as the boy asked. You gently took he ribbon off from the box then slipped the lid off. Which was when your mind seemed to stop. Sat gently within the box was a dress. The same dress you had tried on the weekend before. The one that Fred couldn't help but call you beautiful in. The one that you had left at the shop to possibly, possibly not, buy at another time.

Your hands brushed against the fabric before daring to look up at the boy who had bought this for you. "Fred," That was all you could get out. You swore no one had ever gotten you such a gift before. Then you couldn't help but smack your hand against the boy's chest. "You're such an idiot."

The boy laughed at your reaction. "No thank you?"

"How much even was this?" You couldn't quite remember, only that it had been enough of an amount that you had put off buying it.

The boy shrugged, "A lot, which is why you should try it on."

Had Fred not just spent a lot of money on some stupid dress, then you certain would have denied his request. Alas, it seemed you owned it him to try it on. "Fine." You answered, watching as a grin grew at his expression. "But I'm only doing it because you bought it." You made clear.

With that, you whisked off to the bathroom and slipped out from your robes and school uniform as to get into the dress. It fit the same as it had done when you first tried it on. And you couldn't help but like it. A part of you actually beginning to grow excited for this stupid ball after all. Almost as excited as Fred was.

And with the dress tied to your body, you walked out from the bathroom. You raised a brow at Fred as he sat at the end of his bed. "Well?"

A smile brushed at his lips before he pulled himself up and walked over to where you were stood, starring down at you. "You still look beautiful." He told you. A compliment of which you had no idea how to reply to. "Now, even if I'm not able to go, you still have something to remind you of me."

"Is that you assuming that I'd be going with you?" You questioned him with your own smile tugging at your lips.

"Well I bloody hope so after I spent all that money of a dress for you." He made a good point. Though, he gave you no chance to reply. Before you knew it, the space between you and Fred was fading as the boy leaned into your lips. It had caught you off guard, but once you settled into the kiss, you savoured the moment. As if it might not happen again.

You pulled from another, still lingering close. "We still have to study, you know." You reminded him.

"Way to ruin the moment."

Tagslist - @rexorangecouny , @sukunas-cult-leader , @callmebyyourhoe , @calumhoodstinymochi , @chaoticscissorswagoncop , @aliceblxck , @bamboozledflamplant , @jules-trebol , @icedlattewithalmondmilk , @mela1648 , @my-acrylic-heart​

Please let me know whether you would like to be added or removed to the tagslist for this series

[cheesyficwriter]

Happy Saturday! Today is the final day of Romione Week, and participating has been such a blast! Thank you again for all who have followed along, and a big kudos to @folk-melody for hosting @romioneweek. I hope you've all enjoyed reading the Romione goodness as much as I have ❤

Since it is a Free Day, I've chosen to finish up the final part of a series I started a while back ago, Sixth Year Ball. While this ficlet can stand-alone, some dialogue/writing could be confusing, so I do suggest reading the first two parts first 🙂 Enjoy!

Sixth Year Ball Part 1: The Waltz

Sixth Year Ball Part 2: The Invitation

Romione Week Day 7 - Free Day

An Unforgettable Evening

The day of the ball arrives, and Ron is nothing but a bundle of nerves.

He stands in front of the mirror surveying his appearance. The new dress robes that Hermione helped him pick out for the event are a logical choice — a black suit and matching bowtie, under a navy blue dress jacket. The black cushioned inner soles of his shoes feel comfortable the more he wiggles his toes around. His ginger hair is well-groomed, slicked back with just a small amount of hair gel. He's grateful to be rid of the disastrous attire that was his Yule Ball robes, although it does feel a tad strange to not be cloaked in hand-me-downs for once.

The stakes surrounding the ball are high, and if they weren't, he wouldn't be interested in going to the blasted event anyways, right?

He needs to put his best self forward for her.

This isn't just any first date. This is the date. Hermione isn't just some girl that he's attracted to, she's his best friend, she's his — well, bloody hell. What is she?

In an attempt to boost Ron's confidence, Harry babbles next to him, oblivious to Ron’s nervous breakdown inside of his head.

"It's completely normal to feel nervous."

"Harry, I know you're trying to be supportive mate, but-"

"Yeah, I'm rubbish at this, aren't I?" Harry laughs, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You really are. And people say you're the chosen one — not the chosen one to give out advice, I'll say," Ron quips, giving his best friend a hearty shove.

"Don't be a tosser," Harry chuckles. "All I'm saying is that if you're feeling nervous, I can almost guarantee she's feeling the same."

Ron's lips curl up at the image of Hermione frantically scouring through textbooks on how not to be anxious.

He exhales a deep breath, studying his slicked back ginger hair in the mirror. "This is a date. Is this a date? It's a date, right?"

Harry snorts. "Well, how did you ask her?"

Ron squints one eye at his best friend. "Technically, she cornered me after she caught on to me trying to ask her and pretty much conjured the invitation out of me."

Harry ponders on the information. "Well...I think so then?"

This bloke seriously isn’t all that helpful in one of the largest departments of mysteries — women.

With one final clap on Ron’s shoulder, he says, "Now or never, huh? Come on, don't want to keep the girls waiting."

As it turns out, they arrive into the common room before Hermione and Ginny, leaving Ron with a few extra minutes to dwell in his pesky, anxiety-ridden thoughts. He always manages to let the negative thoughts creep in at the most undesirable moments.

But how does Hermione really feel about him? Did she only accept his invitation to the ball to be polite? Does she consider this evening an outing with friends or will it lead to something more between them?

"None of that nonsense," Ginny barks at Ron, disturbing his inner turmoil. When did she get here?

He frowns at his sister. "I didn't even say anything." His eyes dart around, an unsettling feeling spreading through his stomach when he doesn’t spot Hermione right away.

"No, but I know you brother, and I can see the self-doubt in your eyes." Ginny waggles a finger in Ron's direction. "She looks amazing, and you don't look too shabby yourself. You're going to have a great time, yeah?"

Ron releases a shaky breath, feeling the slightest bit of weight lifting off his shoulders from Ginny’s words. Surely his sister has spoken with Hermione. She wouldn’t be reassuring him if Hermione didn’t think this was a date, right?

"Yeah, we will. Thanks, Sis."

"Don't mention it,” Ginny grins before addressing Harry with an appreciative gaze up and down his body. “Ready, Potter?"

Harry nods and stumbles along the wooden floor as Ginny leads him towards the portrait hole. Over his shoulder, he calls out to Ron, "We'll meet you two there."

Ron gives a silent thumbs up before shoving his hands into the pockets of his trousers and teetering back and forth on his heels. As he gazes up at the empty winding staircase, his impatience grows.

Hermione, where are you?

The ball starts promptly at eight o’clock, and the current time indicates that if they don’t make their way to the Great Hall soon, they will miss the opening dance. Not that he would mind not having a chance to bugger up the steps he’s tried hard to memorize since his practice session with Professor McGonagall.

He’s starting to wonder if Hermione’s decided to ditch him. Shaking his head, he mentally chides himself. He really needs to stop playing out scenarios in his head that may or may not happen. Breathing in through his nose for five seconds, he exhales the heavy breath out of his mouth, feeling the stress start to melt away.

Before Ron can dwell on his nervous jitters for a moment longer, the sound of heels clacking alert him that someone is descending the spiral tower.

Ron’s heart races in his chest from the anticipation, barely breathing as the footsteps grow closer. One studded heel-clad foot makes an appearance, showing off a considerable amount of bare leg that Ron has never had a view of in normal school robes, before Hermione fully reveals herself and steals all of the air right out of his lungs.

Wow.

Hermione steps out in a full-length evening gown that drapes to the floor with slits up the side, made of a silky burgundy fabric that looks so delicate that he fears it could tear at the slightest tug. The modest neckline is richly decorated with beaded jewels, with short sleeves that ruffle around her arms. Her hair is twisted into a plait that fashions her curls into a half updo, the rest of her waves tumbling around her face.

She is positively stunning.

Ron opens and closes his mouth several times. Any single one of his thoughts in his head would be appropriate for him to say as she waits on the bottom step for his reaction, but all that comes out of his mouth is, “Hi.”

“Hi.” She takes a step forward, then two, and the closer she gets, the more he believes that he didn’t prepare enough for this. Why oh why did he not ask for Fred or George’s advice on how to charm witches?

But, Hermione isn’t just any witch. She’s not going to be impressed by mediocre words or cheesy lines. Ron struggles to avoid making assumptions. He reminds himself that the only way he'll truly know what she's thinking or feeling is by asking her himself.

Silently, he lifts a hand in her direction, inviting her to take it. She accepts, and he immediately spots her palms trembling.

His voice is soft and raspy as he rubs his thumb across the back of her hand. “You’re shaking.”

Hermione folds her bottom lip between her teeth, eyes trained on their joined hands. “I’m a bit nervous.”

“Hey.” Ron’s whispered call causes Hermione to lift her gaze to meet his own. He does his best to give her an encouraging smile. “I bet my wand you’re not more nervous than I am.”

She lets out a shaky laugh. “Well, that’s a relief.”

Briefly letting go of her hand, he holds out his bent elbow. “You ready?”

“I am. Are you?”

“Absobloodylutely.”

--

The entire Great Hall is draped in decadence, with twinkling lights dangling from the starry black ceiling, glass vases filled with feathers and beads, and green ivy lining the walls around the room. The decorations really set the mood, promising an evening of socializing with other houses that is encompassed by music, dancing, and eating. Ron finds other students feasting on delicious finger foods, making his mouth water from the sight and smell.

This is the fanciest fucking event he’s ever been to. No pressure, he laughs inwardly to himself. It’s all nothing short of magical, and Ron has high hopes that tonight will be an unforgettable event.

Several other couples rotate across the floor in a counter-clockwise direction, dresses swishing behind the women as the men stumble over their own feet to keep up. As the current string of music comes to an instrumental end, thunderous applause fills his ears.

“Wow. I thought the Yule Ball was elaborate,” Ron jokes, already feeling the beads of sweat pooling on his forehead.

“Can we not talk about the Yule Ball tonight?” Hermione requests, rubbing one side of her arm as a blush forms on her cheeks.

“Oh. Right. M’sorry.” Ron imagines his gangly form is sticking out like a Hungarian Horntail, maintaining an awkward stance with his hands shoved in the pockets of his trousers, not yet willing his feet to move into the grand ballroom as other witches and wizards circle around them.

“What are you apologizing for?” Hermione inquires, raising an eyebrow with an expectant look on her face — a look that tells Ron that she requires nothing but honesty from him tonight.

Harry’s voice echoes in his mind. If you’re feeling nervous, chances are she’s feeling the same.

Blimey, his best mate is right. And Hermione deserves to know that she’s not alone in her self-induced pressure.

“I just feel like I’m already mucking this up and we haven’t even walked into the bloody Great Hall yet.”

A small smile forms on Hermione’s face as she leans over to place a tentative hand on his arm, sending tingles down his spine. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. I’ve seen your dancing, you’re not that rubbish.”

Ron laughs out loud, releasing some of the tension from his body. “You’re a cheeky one, aren’t you?”

“Come on, Ron.”

With Hermione tugging on his hand, he’s drifting through a sea of other couples, many who whisper and stare as they walk past. The rumbling in his belly makes him want to scope out the food to settle his uneasy stomach. It’s fairly safe to say that he expects to be fed at this event, but Hermione has other plans first.

His feet plant on the floor in the center of the room, arms straight down by his side as Hermione looks up at him expectantly. What should he do now?

"Just like we've practiced, right?" Hermione encourages, nodding her head at him as she smooths out the skirt on her dress.

"R-right."

As the soft flow of music begins, Hermione takes a step forward and bows. Ron mimics her movements, deciding that following her lead is the safest course of action. But in true Hermione form, she’s very difficult to grasp, and Ron isn’t sure what move he should make next when she waits for his guidance.

The sound of the traditional orchestra filters through his ears, and he glances around to see other men gliding across the dance floor with their partners in matching positions.

One hand on waist, one hand in hand.

Ron slips a firm hand on Hermione’s back, pulling her in close with a bit more vigor than he intended, hearing her breath hitch as their chests meet.

“M’sorry.” He winces as he stumbles back, feeling the redness on his cheeks as he clears his throat.

“It’s okay.” Hermione sends him a shy smile, and she helps him out with the next step by raising her hand. Ron intertwines their fingers together, hoping beyond all hope that his palms aren’t too sweaty.

They begin to sway back and forth, slow at first before taking wide sweeping steps in a circular motion. Ron’s heart accelerates as the beat of the song picks up the pace. He tries to ignore the several sets of eyes on them, focusing instead on a tiny freckle in the middle of Hermione’s forehead.

Although Ron feels like he’s towering over Hermione, he can still feel her hot breath on his cheek. The warmth between them grows more powerful by the minute, and Ron’s shoulders relax as the song progresses. It’s amazing how quickly his sluggish movements turn into refined, dare say, even graceful steps, allowing his body to maintain tune with the slow music.

Hermione remains quiet, exchanging soft smiles with him every so often, although she spends most of the dance scanning the floor for other couples as if she’s afraid of getting too close. He knows she’s just itching to establish more control over her surroundings.

For Ron, he’s aware of only Hermione, realizing that the space between their bodies is dwindling.

"Why did you ask me to the ball?"

Hermione’s words break Ron from his thoughts, echoing her inquiry from the day they waltzed in class. Why did you ask me to dance?

Unsure of the right words to respond with, he challenges back, “Why did you say yes?”

Hermione’s lips part, her brows furrowed with intent, and Ron just knows that her mind must be swirling with rapid fire thoughts.

“Don’t overthink this,” he murmurs, holding her hand just a little tighter.

A crestfallen look appears on her face and she drops her gaze to the floor. “Oh.”

Fuck.

“That’s not what I meant!” He quickly corrects. Hermione lifts up her head again, allowing Ron to breathe a sigh of relief when he sees a small bit of hope light up her face. “I just mean-”

Blast. What does he mean to say? Why is it that he can’t seem to hold a proper conversation with her? She’s his best friend, for Merlin’s sake.

“Ron, I’m your best friend,” Hermione gently coaxes. “Just talk to me.”

It’s bloody scary how she manages to read his mind like that. She’s looking up at him now — fucking hell, she’s so beautiful — with round, glassy chocolate brown eyes, filled with such implorable curiosity that it takes everything in him not to just snog her in the middle of the crowded ballroom, in front of the entire school.

He doesn’t reckon Hermione would appreciate that much —not without first receiving some sort of explanation, or providing any indication that she feels the same way.

Deciding that he’s not going to work up the courage he needs to spill his feelings out in public, Ron starts to silently walk backwards through the throng of people, pulling Hermione with him by their joined hands until they’re in a secluded spot just outside the grand entrance. Fairy lights flutter about the open lawn in front of the castle, providing just enough glow for him to still clearly see her face.

The chilly night air provides a small amount of reprieve from the heat of standing so close to the girl he gets so jittery around, although he starts to rethink his choice to head outside when Hermione instinctively covers her bare arms with her hands, her entire body trembling from the cold.

“Here, let me-” Ron goes to remove his suit jacket, but Hermione holds up a hand to stop him.

“No, that isn’t necessary. Just tell me what you wanted to say.” Her tone is very Hermione-like, stern and stubborn, and he would’ve laughed at her insistent independence if he weren’t so tongue-tied.

“It was too loud in there,” Ron says, fighting the labored breaths that leave his mouth in visible puffs of air. “I just—I wanted to-” He almost groans in frustration over his lack of finesse when it comes to admitting what he truly means, what he truly feels.

Hermione takes a step forward, and he can feel the warmth of her body as their arms brush together. “It’s just me, Ron.”

Her voice is so soft, almost velvety, and a lump of emotion gets caught in his throat. “No, it’s not.”

A loud exhale leaves Ron’s mouth and he lets his head fall back. “Do y’know how much I loathed you when I first met you?”

Shit, Ron, that probably wasn’t the right thing to say, but he paces the dimly lit path anyway, the words tumbling out of him before he can stop himself.

“I mean, you really did tie my wand in a knot. You were stubborn, bossy, frustrating…” He pauses to heave out another large breath, viewing the surprise flickering through Hermione’s eyes. “And I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

A quiet gasp escapes her lips and she opens her mouth to interject. Ron jumps in, knowing he’ll lose the momentum he finally has if he allows her the time.

“If I wasn’t an eleven-year-old git, I reckon I would’ve realized why I thought about you all the time sooner. But it wasn’t until I got to know you better, and discovered all the best parts of you — how smart, capable, kind, clever, brilliant you are — that I had to admit to myself that maybe I did like you. Maybe I wanted to be your friend.”

Ron checks in with Hermione again, who is listening intently to his words in such a stoic way that it’s irritating because he has no clue as to what she is thinking.

He presses on. “And then as we grew older, maybe I...maybe I wanted to be more than just your friend.”

Tears shimmer in Hermione’s eyes — oh, fuck, he’s not sure what he’ll do if she starts to cry — but instead she strides towards him with purpose, reaching a hand up to brush against his cheek. The action makes him flinch, although he relaxes into her palm, closing his eyes as he breathes in her scent. Wait, is she wearing...how hadn’t he noticed before? She’s wearing that unusual perfume he got her last Christmas!

“Ron Weasley…” Hermione hums, her mouth curving into a grin, “you are the most frustrating, but also most adorable man alive.” The tips of Ron’s ears burn red, not sure how to take her confusing compliment. “And I swear you sometimes forget that you are also smart, capable, kind…” She giggles through the watery tears that flood her eyes, “Clever and brilliant.”

“Got that speech memorized already, have ya?” Ron teases, his arms wrapping around her waist.

“It was a good speech.”

Ron’s wide grin fades, his heart now beating twice as fast in his chest as a charge of electricity builds between them. Hermione takes a step closer, circling her arms around his neck. One of Ron’s hands leaves her waist, instead trailing his fingers up her arm, letting the tips linger on her smooth skin. He’s cognizant of her fingers making similar movements, finding the hairs on the nape of his neck before threading through his copper strands.

Ron makes contact with her brown curls, pushing her hair back over her shoulders to free up the space between her shoulder blades and her neck for his hand to continue along its path.

He sucks in a breath when he sees her tongue dart out to moisten her own lips, and she makes the tiniest sound in the back of her throat that practically turns his brain to mush.

Before Ron takes the time to process it, he ducks his head, allowing his body to take control, tasting her breath as their lips inch closer and closer…

When their mouths finally fuse together, it’s nothing short of perfection. It’s like he’s drowning in a single kiss, more shocked than anything that he somehow knows exactly how to move his lips over hers, finding a familiar rhythm, a feeling of completeness that makes him think he might just explode from all these emotions he’s never experienced before.

The feeling of Hermione grinning against his mouth prompts him to lift her slightly off the ground, enthusiasm radiating through his bones.

Breathing finally becomes a necessity, and their lips slowly part, with Ron not able to resist planting one more soft kiss upon her lips before a crooked smile lights up his face.

“Bloody-”

“Don’t swear,” Hermione warns, although she too can’t hide the grin on her pleasantly flushed face.

Ron leans forward to embrace her, letting his nose make contact with her hair as he breathes her in. He can’t believe this is reality.

The music from the Great Hall can be faintly heard from the distance, and Ron rocks back and forth with Hermione in his arms, subconsciously swaying along with the song.

“Ron.”

She whispers his name and he lifts her head to see her smiling like she has a secret — a secret only he knows, fueling his excitement over their new romance even more. Hermione laces their fingers again, making Ron grateful for the contact.

“There are people looking at us.”

Only then does Ron’s brain register their surroundings. “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

Plenty of couples have also ventured off the dance floor. Some linger on the steps, Ginny and Harry included, who are both staring right at them with matching smirks. Ron decides he doesn’t care though —all he cares about is the witch in his arms, and how he can now confirm that it will be, in fact, an unforgettable evening.

[maysiebloom]

okok if you have read all the young dudes please dm me so we can screech together please don’t send any spoilers bc im not completely finished (harrys just been born)

[keepyoureyesonanewprize]

AU where Hermione, Ron and Harry are separated at Bill and Fleur's wedding because of the Deatheaters PPL i'm halfway through this and it's the best AU i've read in a VERY long time even if you're not a dramione fan, READ THIS it's pure delight

[dramionediscussion]

Have you ever read a fanfiction/s where you lost interest in the middle and keep reading until before Dramione starts rolling then choose to stop? Or they took one step forward but two steps backwards? Usually I drop it and sometimes reading the last chapter instead. How about you?

Yeah sometimes the authors make the fic a little too slow burn in that it seems that Hermione and Draco will never get together or that they are somewhat toxic together so it makes me feel they are better off separate. Which is when I stop since I am no longer rooting for a dramione ending.

Other times, the plot just doesn't do it for me or I find that the fic focuses on other characters and not dramione enough so yeah I just skip to the end to see if they end up together.

- Lisa

[full-fandom-obsession]

Masterlist

OK, guys! If you don't know, I'll tell you this: I don't own my old account anymore, @imaginationssz

Here is my old masterlist: Masterlist

You can still request imagines, request are always open.

If you want, you can take a look at my Prompt Ideas

~Those that don't have a link attached are still in process. They would be done soon~

And, now, I made a new account and here is my new masterlist:

Supernatural:

Fanfiction:

Sam

I just passed by

Dean

Little sister

Destiel

Another day in paradise

Reaction:

How they react to you getting possessed

You cry after they screamed at you

You bringing home a puppy

BTS:

Fanfiction:

JungKook

Hair too long

Jimin

Too bad you can't hear me

Reaction:

How they act when they're jealous

What would it be like dating you

[Maknae Line] [Hyung Line]

You being too touchy

Boys on a trip

Series:

Puppy dog eyes [JungKook]

[Prologue]. [Part 1].

Unite:

Jujutsu Kaisen x Harry Potter

[Part 1].

[poisonghoull]

is it executive dysfunction or writers block: scorbus fanfic edition

[pigeonesq]

HP musings

Listening to the aftermath of Slytherin Quidditch team losing to Gryffindor in The Order of the Phoenix, even now after a 100 reads and 13 years, my reaction is still so extreme. As in, driving down the motorway, hand over mouth, wanting to turn off the stereo and chuck my phone out the window, going OMGOMGOMG Malfoy shut the fuck up you fucjing fuck!!!!!

In fact, this round of listening to the audiobooks has really reminded me of just how spiteful, petty and malicious Malfoy really is and how much we all romanticise him in fanfiction. (Look I can’t even call him Draco I’m so angry with him right now.) Even giving him the excuse of being spoilt and immature, I can’t imagine anyone who gets that much pleasure out of causing pain can grow up to be what he is in 80% of the fics I read.

His and Harry’s animosity is just too entrenched. I know it all becomes insignificant in the wake of Voldemort, but after Malfoy knows that Harry has seen him fail, be humiliated, be on the losing side of the war, failure upon failure and humiliation, after all that mortally wounded pride of his which was monstrously inflated to begin with, his frail frail ego - would he ever even go near Harry?? Let alone date him?

It sounds like I’ve been reading Gryffindor propaganda but it’s not just Malfoy.

I think if you end up finding fanfic and reading and reading and reading it, your perception of characters get gradually eroded until you’re left with an extremely altered version of canon. I’ve found book Harry to be self-obsessed while being embarrassingly un-self-aware, (to the point where in Umbridges lesson’s I’m ready to punch the wall out of frustration,) impatient, rude, angry but also quietly sensitive to other’s feelings and very empathetic. Yeah you can call that first stuff being a teenager, and it’s stuff you grow out of, but really I know a lot of adults like that and in Cursed Child those faults hadn’t been sanded down and polished. Harry was being punished for them, hard.

I also forgot about Ron. In so many fics he’s cast as the steady, comic, have a pint in the pub friend. (Even, dare I say it, in the CC.) He and Harry nearly always have this solid, robust friendship, but they never seem to explore each other or talk with enough emotional depth. It’s all very pat on the back mate type talk and I know, I know in the books they’re kind of like that too, but we get to see so much more of Ron’s complexity. He’s contradictory and he’s a dick, argumentative but kind, but also a fucking moron. There’s so much to him to explore but I wonder if that is also the reason why I’ve rarely read a successful fan version of him. He doesn’t fit nicely into any of the boxes.

Draco does. Draco is redeemed. He is emotionally unavailable but ridiculously silly, socially upstanding yet a sexual deviant, he pushes and pulls Harry back and forth, provocative, repulsive and alluring, basically super-interesting, romanticised and often merely superficially complicated. But Ron is - awkward, messy, ordinary and far more realistic.

I wonder if it is because the fandom have basically created Draco’s character out of the mean skeleton of what we’re given of him in the books. The blank canvas-ness of him is what attracted me to write about him after all. You can really interpret him however you want.

Ron on the other hand is all there in all his gloriously unglamorous detail. Writing about him would be like attempting to paint a marshy forest or rows of terraced houses instead of the surface of a distant planet. I don’t know. Maybe I just havent found those Ron fics.

Brb reading Drarry

[apocalypsewallflower]

Featured Fanfiction Day 1

My featured fanfiction of the day is one I started way back in December 2015 on fanfiction.net and that I last updated in November 2017. This story is still incomplete but I do plan to finish it. This is a Tomarry/Harrymort fanfiction, so if you like those, give it a bit of a read.

“What You Love Will Always Come Back”

The second featured story of the day is by Isys Luna Skeeter on fanfiction.net. This story was first published way back in 2014 and has not been updated since October 2015. I hold this story dear as it’s so far been the only story that I have thoroughly enjoyed and can sit down to read again and again without finding it repetitive. This is also a Tomarry/Harrymort fanfiction, so if you like the ship, give it a read. I highly recommend this one. I am quite sad, however, that this story doesn’t seem like it’ll ever be finished because I would really love to be able to read it to the end.

“60 Years In A Summer”

[itsbuckysworld]

IMPORTANT!!!!!! IF YOU’RE PARTICIPATING ON MY WRITING CHALLENGE, REMEMBER TO TAG IT ACCORDINGLY OR EVEN DIRECTLY SEND ME THE LINK IF YOU THINK TUMBLR HAS EATEN THE TAG CAUSE IT TENDS TO DO SO. I’LL BE COMPILING THE MASTERLIST: IF I HAVEN’T LIKED YOUR PIECE IT MEANS I HAVEN’T SEEN IT, PLEASE MESSAGE ME ABOUT IT TO CLEAR ANY DOUBTS. There’s also a lot of time left and prompts left unclaimed you still have a chance to participate if you want! The link is in my bio!