#i planned out like 11 illustrations in my head

[vaguelyhauntedcornfield]

*was suddenly filled with so much motivation to draw at 3:30 am that they are still laying in bed awake at 6:30 am, having not drawn bc they were wanting to sleep, nor slept bc they were wanting to draw*

[chronicbeans]

Human Illustrator Wally x Reader (part 8)

Julie owns a childcore fashion line. No, you cannot change my mind. Lol

TW: None that I am Aware of

🐻 A few days pass by. As you read a book to the children of the daycare, you hear the phone ring. You quickly pardon yourself, heading over to answer the phone. To your surprise, Mr. Darling has called, saying "Good morning! My friend, Ms. Joyful, has decided to visit town. She wants to meet you and myself at a nearby restaurant tomorrow. I wanted to know if you would be free at all tomorrow to actually visit?"

🐻 You don't know how to respond. First, you meet Mr. Darling and grow to become... friends? At least, you THINK you are friends. Either way, you believe you have a pleasant relationship with him. Now, THE Julie Joyful wants to meet you? You don't know how to respond! However, you are aware that tomorrow, you have a half day of work, leaving at 11. So, you should be open from 12 PM onward. It would give you time to get home, get ready, and have a small break before leaving again. "I am pretty free. 12 PM and after. Maybe we can meet for dinner?" "PERFECT! I-I mean... that is perfect! That was Ms. Joyful's plan, too! I'll pick you up, if you want?" "You don't have to!" "I want to." "Okay..."

🐻 You give him your address, before returning to the kids. Once the workday is over, you head home and begin trying to pick out your outfit. Oh, golly... You have no idea what would be appropriate for the outing! Ms. Joyful is a FASHION DESIGNER. What do you do?! You are sure that she is nice. She is Mr. Darling's friend, after all, so she must be at least tolerable... But what if you look horrible?!

🐻 You decide to just pick what you think would fit for any occasion: business casual. It has NEVER let you down. You set the outfit out, then go to bed. Once you get home from work the next day, you take a quick shower, put the outfit on, then try to relax until Mr. Darling shows up.

🐻 There is a knock on your door, to which you spring up and answer it. As expected, it is Mr. Darling. He grins, chirping "Good afternoon! Are you ready to go...?" He trails off, his cheeks Turing a bit red. After a few seconds, where he seems to space out, he blinks a bit before chuckling "You look amazing!" You chuckle nervously "Oh, thank you! I am ready to go!"

🐻 You see his car parked outside. It looks nice and cozy, as well as relatively cheaper than you expected. You hop into the passenger seat, chatting happily with Mr. Darling as he drives you to the restaurant. Outside of the building, you see a young woman standing next to her car, checking her hair in the side mirrors.

🐻 Mr. Darling parks the car next to hers, chirping "Hello, Ms. Joyful! I hope we aren't late!" "Wally, how many times have I told you to just call me Julie? Oh, is that (Y/N)?" She turns, her dark skin and dark eyes widening with intrigue. Her blonde hair is rather large, styled in two buns pushed together at the top, almost making it look like a heart. She also is wearing a headband with an orange horn on it, as well as a large, blue worm on a string as a sort of boa. Her clothes, itself, has a very childish aesthetic to it. From a large, pastel rainbow shirt, to a pair of jean shorts covered in patchwork polka dots with teddy bears in them.

🐻 'Darn it, business casual... You failed me.' you think to yourself. You somehow OVERDRESSED. Ms. Joyful, however, goes on to coo "They look adorable in their little outfit! Oh, come inside! I reserved a table for us in the back. That way, people won't swarm us." Mr. Darling laughs "Thank you, Ms- I mean, Julie. Come on, (Y/N), let's go to the table." You quietly nod, not exactly knowing what to say in this situation. Looking at the sign, you see the words "Poppy's Pop-In Diner" at the top.

🐻 You follow Mr. Darling and Ms. Julie to the table, which happens to be a booth. Looking down at the menus that the waitress provides you, you see that the majority of the menu consists of breakfast and baked deserts. There are a few lunch and dinner options, however. The drinks consist of coffee, lemonade, water, chocolate milk, hot chocolate, and a few types of soda. You make a mental note of your order, before turning to look at Ms. Joyful as she speaks.

🐻 "You will absolutely LOVE the owner of this place, as well as the dishes! Her name is Poppy Partridge, and she is just the BEST at her job! Her cakes are so delicious!" Mr. Darling laughs at her enthusiasm. "That's right, Julie. She is also just the sweetest person, too." Poppy...? That sounds familiar...

🐻 You notice how Mr. Darling decided to sit next to you, meaning that you are now trapped within the booth. He looks over to you, noticing your stare, before patting his cheeks slightly "Is... is there something on my face?" You stammer in response, feeling embarrassed for getting caught staring. "Oh, oh no! I just thought you would've sat next to Ms. Joyful, since you two seem to have known each other longer. It isn't anything wrong. I am fine with it." "Oh."

🐻 Oh golly... now you've made things awkward... why do you make everything awkward? Ms. Joyful, however, seems to be enjoying the show, as she laughs so hard you swear she would cough up a lung. "Oh my GOLLY! You two are such cute friends! You two should like... I don't know... Wait... nevermind, actually... I forgot where I was going with my words!" Mr. Darling tenses, before letting out a small chuckle. "Oh, I am sure you will remember soon... Hey, there she is! Hello Ms. Partridge!"

🐻 You look over to where Mr. Darling is looking, seeing a woman with an apron on, as well as a pretty shirt dress. She has a dark complexion, radiating a healthy glow, as her thick, curly hair has been gathered and clipped to the back of her head. It leaves a few strands poking upwards. Her eyes are wide, making her look like a deer in headlights. Then, she seemingly realizes who called her name, chirping with a voice as pretty as a birdsong "Oh, Mr. Darling! Ms. Joyful! It is so lovely to see you two, again! The last time I saw you was... Gosh, how long? When did we film that baking show, again?" "About six months ago, Ms. Partridge!"

🐻 This day keeps getting more and more shocking. First you meet Ms. Joyful, now the baking star, Ms. Partridge? Wait, not even that. You are in her diner! She walks over, her tall figure towering over the table. She seems to take note of that, as she hunches over slightly, possibly to make herself seem smaller. "Who are you, dear? Are you a new friend of these two? A friend of theirs is a friend of mine! My name is Ms. Partridge! Oh, you must know that already! Sorry!" You nervously reply to her question, holding your hand out and shaking hers. "I umm... I am (Y/N)." "Such a lovely name! It seems like your waitress has left you two hanging... Let me take your orders personally!"

🐻 You and the rest of your table order. As Ms. Partridge hurries to the kitchen, Ms. Joyful giggles "She is always in such a rush. Very anxious, too. So sweet, though! She acts very motherly towards everyone. OH! I remember what I was going to say!" She points to you and Mr. Darling, slyly saying "You two should like, have a sleepover, since you two are such good friends! OH MY GOSH! WE CAN HAVE A SLEEPOVER AT (Y/N)'S PLACE AHHHHH!!!!" She excitedly bangs her hands against the table, almost like it were a drum. Mr. Darling coughs, choking on his own spit. "C-calm down! We don't even know if (Y/N) is comfortable with having sleepovers in general. A home is a very... Delicate space for some people. Some don't like their homes being invaded. Privacy, you know?"

🐻 You look between them, feeling charmed by their antics. "I wouldn't mind, it is just that my place is pretty small. I have never held a sleepover-sleepover, before. Not even as a kid. Usually it was more like my friends would visit, then we slept. That was it." Ms. Joyful's eyes widen in horror "You have never had a REAL sleepover?! That is horrible! We must change that! When would you be available to have a sleepover, (Y/N)?" You are taken aback by her determination, before stammering "I don't know... Umm... This Saturday is free. I don't work weekends, luckily." "THEN IT IS SETTLED! WALLY, THE SLEEPOVER SHALL BE SATURDAY!" She raises her hands in the air, continuing "We shall have makeovers, fashion shows, baking, and more! Do you have any allergies, (Y/N)? I have hypoallergenic makeup and baking recipes! Actually, I'll just bring them in case! OH, CAN WE INVITE OUR OTHER FRIENDS?! PLEASE!!!"

🐻 This weekend is going to be long, isn't it? Well, at least you will get to meet these two again. Their chaotic antics are truly a sight to behold. You shrug, looking at the both of them. Mr. Darling seems especially curious as to your response. You nod slowly "Sure. Invite a friend each. I would allow more, but my place is a bit small."

[rorywritesjunk]

Let’s be one another’s present tense

Buggy ‘rescues’ you from an abusive situation, and after a less than stellar introduction, he has you audition for his crew to keep you safe. You want safety, security, and joining a circus seems like the best idea.

Rating: Soft NC-17 for this chapter. Warning: Communication is a THING. These two are trying. Buggy is mopey. They're working on it, okay. Talks of sex, some touching happens, Cupcake needs her man. A/N: Still dealing with relationship stuff.

Title comes from “Crater Lake” by Lady Lamb

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 (NC-17) + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13 TAGLIST: @lostfirefly @neuvilleteismybby @fluffybunnyu @sinning-23 @the-angriest-angel @ane5e @fanshavegottensotoxic @honey-deerling

Chapter 13

The two of you took a ‘break’ from what you had been up to for a month, instead going back to more simple sex. Buggy still thought writing up scripts was the way to go, but you were neutral on the idea. While you understood where he was coming from as it was to make you more comfortable, it felt like maybe some of the fun and spontaneity was taken out of it, which you told him when he brought it up again one night, leading to an argument.

“It’s for your benefit!” He insisted as he held out the blank sheets of paper to you. “I don't want you upset again!”

“Buggy, I appreciate it but I don't think it's going to work!” You told him from your spot on the bed, refusing to take the stack from him. “Why does it have to be a script? Why can't we just write out some things that are not okay to say?”

“Becaaaaause!” He whined pitifully. “What if I upset you again? Baby, I don't want to make you cry!”

“If we talk things out we’ll be okay.” You sighed as he pouted at you. He looked silly, face still full of makeup, hair pulled back in his bandana, lips pouty as he looked down at you with the papers in his hand. He kept trying to get you to take it from him, which you knew if you did it meant the possibility of him wanting to write out extravagant scenes of sex that could either be incredibly cringy or incredibly arousing, you weren't sure.

“Okay, okay, here's my suggestion.” You finally said. “We can try it once and if it ends up working then great, but if it doesn't we don't do it. How does that sound, babe?”

Buggy stopped pouting long enough to think it over. He could win you over with the idea, he just had to make sure the first time was perfect. He didn't want to be the reason you cried.

“Okay, fine.” He agreed. “I'm going to write the most mind blowing sex scene for us, babe. You will be begging me to fuck you.”

“I kinda already do, Buggy.” You reminded him. “Frequently, I might add.”

~

You knew Buggy had focus when he wanted it and right now he was the most focused you'd ever seen him since meeting him and you were the center of it. He was laying on the bed on his stomach, kicking his feet as he stared at you with a stack of paper in front of him, scribbles, words, things crossed out were scattered across them as he chewed on the end of his pencil while you sat back against the headboard knitting a hat. It was evening, the two of you dressed down for the night with him in boxers and you wearing one of his shirts to sleep in. It wasn't worth sleeping naked in case either of you had to get up in the middle of the night for an emergency.

“Might as well illustrate what you wanna do, babe, since you've been staring at me for so long.” You said, not looking up from your project. “ What are you planning in that head of yours?”

“Oh, you'll find out.” He grinned, reaching over with the pencil to tap you on the foot lightly. “You'll love it.”

You glanced over at him, nudging his arm with your foot gently. He grabbed it and kissed the top of it before he returned to his papers.

“You like me being fearsome, so I gotta make sure I'm like that for you.” Buggy said as he wrote some things down. “And I love what you do for me, y’know, all that shit you say. The filth that comes out of your pretty mouth is so surprising, babe.”

“Aw, well, I'm glad I can surprise you.” You grinned, setting the knitting aside before stretching out on the bed in front of him, laying on your side as you propped your head up on your hand. “So, what do you have so far, Buggy?”

He looked at you, down at the scribbled pages, then back at you. “Nothing… yet! Art takes time, babe, you can't rush the process!’

“Okay, okay.” You chuckled softly. “Just let me know what you need.”

Buggy shrugged as he looked back down at his papers. He just wanted it to be perfect. He didn't want to see you upset like that again. He didn't mean to upset you that day; a month had passed but it felt like yesterday. He was determined to make sure you two could still continue what you had been doing but without anyone feeling put out. With a sigh he wrote some things down again before tapping the pencil against the paper.

“Would it help if you said out loud what you wanted to write?” You suggested. “I won't say anything, I'll just listen.”

He shrugged again, crossing something out again as he mumbled, “I just want it to be perfect.”

“Babe, I love you and I'll love whatever you write out, okay?” You assured him. “It's not like we’re going to have an audience, y’know, so don't worry.”

“Still.” He frowned and crossed his arms in front of him, resting his head on them. “Just want it to be perfect.”

You sighed and reached over to run your fingers through his hair gently. This was something you had been worried about, that he would stress about it more than he needed to. You got up and crawled over to him, pushing him onto his back before settling on his thighs. He looked up at you curiously, his hands moving to rest on your thighs as you placed your hands on top of his.

“Here's the thing, babe. I love when you fuck me.” You started to tell him as your fingers laced with his as you looked down at him. “You are sweet, gentle, and caring and I love that about you. And I also love it when you're rough and when you tell me all the things you'd do to me if only we had time.” You grinned down at him. You always loved seeing him under you. “Y’know, about making sure I can't walk for a few days, how you'd fuck me ‘til I'm seein’ stars and your name is the only one I'd know after you're done wrecking me.”

“Fuck, Cupcake-”

“Yes?” You pulled your hand free from his and reached down to touch his cheek. “I can stop if you want. Just let me know, okay?”

“Mm, no, no, it's fine, just…” He turned his head to kiss your palm softly. “Give me a sec, babe.”

You nodded, stroking his cheek softly as you moved your other hand to his chest, sliding your palm over his chest slowly, running your fingers through his chest hair, occasionally tugging at some of it. 

“I love you, Buggy.” You murmured as he nodded, taking a deep breath before he sat up suddenly, arm wrapping behind your back to keep you from losing your balance from his movements. Your hands went to his shoulders, steadying yourself as he pulled you in for a kiss.

“You fuckin’ better.” He growled, catching you by surprise. He grinned, keeping you close as you stared at him. “Aw, babe, did I startle you? You thought you had me all relaxed and cozy under you, thinking you were in charge.” 

“Yea, um-”

“Shh, shh, don't talk, baby.” He murmured, tightening his hold on you as his free hand moved between your bodies and between your legs. “This is okay, yea? Tell me this is okay.”

“You um, just told me not to talk, Buggy.” You assured him, digging your nails into his shoulders as his fingers dipped between your folds. You had opted not to wear underwear, just out of laziness, and you were glad you didn't. “But, um, this is okay, really.”

“Good.” Buggy grinned as he touched you, teasing you just enough that you were squirming in his lap. “What should I do to you, hm? Keep touching you like this, or should I watch you fuck yourself on my cock while I sit back and watch?”

“Oh fuck.” Honestly, you didn't care. He was touching you so carefully, fingers circling your clit, brushing over your entrance, the gentlest of touches, when really you just wanted him to get to fucking you. You let your head drop onto his shoulder, letting out a pitiful whine before he was tutting and shaking his head.

“No, no, I need to see your gorgeous face.” He scolded gently. “Cupcake, baby, do I need to back you into a corner to get you to look at me?”

“Gimme a second, Buggy!” You huffed at him, digging your nails into his skin as he pressed his finger in slowly. “J-Jus’ wasn’t expectin’ this.”

He grinned, his hand still while you took a deep breath. You didn’t anticipate this happening, but you weren’t complaining. You just wanted him to relax, to stop worrying about every little thing, and if him taking charge like this and teasing you until you wanted to scream then fine, you could cope with him slowly pushing his finger in, barely to the second knuckle, whispering to you how much he loved you, that you meant the world to him, that he was going to fuck you slow tonight, take his time for sure until you were a mess underneath him.

And he did pull his hand back to flip you onto your back, looking down at you. Buggy had no filter. He couldn’t stop himself as he looked at you, wearing his shirt, spreading your legs for him. He suddenly blurted out, “Will you marry me?”

That was not what you were expecting to hear.

[ironychan]

Scary Monsters

@dysphoria-sweatshirt @30spiders @sweatersexual @angrylittlesliceofpizza @writer652

Part 1/? - Rocco’s Closet

Part 2/? - School for Monsters

Part 3/? - The Waternoose Family

Part 4/? - The Terrifying Humans

Part 5/? - Hiding Places

Part 6/? - Nobody’s Fault

Part 7/? - Edge of Disaster

Part 8/? - Caged Monsters

Part 9/? - The Journey Home

Part 10/? - Portorosso

Part 11/? - A New Family

Part 12/? - More Obstacles

Part 13/? - Out and About in Genova

Part 14/? - Lack of Planning

Sorry this took so long. I got it written quickly enough, but then I had artist's block and I didn't want to skip the illustrations.

Daniela had not been expecting to find them there, either. She screamed right back. For a moment the room was full of terrified voices, and then everybody fell silent, staring at each other.

“So much for staying quiet,” Helena observed.

“M-m-mom?” Luca asked tremulously “What are you doing here?”

Daniela recovered enough to speak, and climbed the rest of the way through the closet door into the room. Her bare feet and hands were dirty, and her dress had a tear in the skirt – it had clearly been a difficult climb. “What am I doing here?” she echoed. “What are you doing here, young man? Your father and I were very specific that we didn’t want you doing this, and you deliberately disobeyed!”

“Signora Paguro...” Giulia began.

“And you two!” Daniela rounded on Giulia and Alberto, shaking a finger at them. “You helped! I’d talk to your parents, but they’re clearly in on the whole thing!” She glared at Helena.

“We need to stop shouting!” said Helena, holding up her hands. “Somebody’s probably heard all that, and the security guards will be coming to investigate. We’ll only make it worse if we keep arguing, so how about we compromise?”

“Compromise?” Daniela began, but then paused. There were voices talking downstairs... it was impossible to hear what they were saying, but they sounded urgent.

Giulia had immediately understood what her mother had in mind. “Signora Paguro,” she said again. “Harry didn’t want to go back, so we had to drag him here. He’s changed his mind now and he wants to go, so we’ll leave him here for when the monster researchers open the door, and the rest of us will go back to Portorosso! How about that?”

“But...” Luca began, but then caught Helena’s eye and saw her shake her head.

“I...” Daniela looked down at Harry, who smiled sheepishly. “That sounds reasonable, I suppose,” Daniela decided, “but you three are still in a lot of trouble.”

Luca really did want to argue, but he knew this was a fight he could not win, so he sighed heavily, and then nodded. “Yes, Mom.”

“How did you get here?” Helena wanted to know.

“I took the train, like you did,” Daniela replied, “and don’t think it wasn’t the most terrifying experience of my life! I don’t know how you do it,” she told Luca, “in this big rattling box that feels like it might tip off the cliff at any moment, surrounded by strange humans. I’m never doing that again! We’re going to swim home like respectable creatures.” She shook her head. “But yes, when I realized where you must have gone, I opened up your grandmother’s savings...”

“She has savings?” asked Alberto.

“Nonna collects coins that fall in the water,” Luca explained. “She uses them to bet at cards.”

“... and I was on the first train this morning,” Daniela went on. “Then I knew you’d said Palazzo Spinola, but I had to find the place, which was also ridiculous. Why would you build like this, where all the roads turn you around and go back the way you came, when you can’t look down on the place from above?” She glared at Helena as if she were personally responsible.

“There’s not a lot of space between the mountains and the sea,” Helena said. “They build things wherever they fit.”

“Then when I got here,” Daniela said, “the humans outside said you’d left after lunch, but I knew better. They wouldn’t let me in any of the doors, so I decided to climb up and look for another way, only to have you open the door and scream in my face! After I’ve been through all that, don’t you even think you can change my mind about taking you home.”

“Yes, Mom,” Luca repeated.

Daniela nodded, satisfied. “Good. Let’s go.”

“What? Right now?” asked Alberto.

“We have to make sure Harry gets home safe!” Luca agreed.

“We can’t just leave him on his own,” Giulia said. “He can’t be trusted!”

“I really can’t!” Harry said, then paused, thinking about what had just been said. “Wait a minute...”

“We just have to wait until the monster scientists open the door,” said Luca, forging ahead before Harry could try to correct them. “We don’t know when that’ll be, though.”

“It might not happen at all,” Helena warned. This had occurred to everybody else, but nobody had wanted to say so. If the scientists didn’t actually use this door, then all this had been for nothing and they were going to have to find another way back. Nobody knew if that were even possible.

There was a creak and a thump from downstairs, and then footsteps. Somebody had opened the main door downstairs, and as Helena had predicted, they were on their way up to see what all the noise was about.

“Oh, no,” groaned Luca.

“Quick!” Giulia grabbed one of the cloths from earlier. “Hide!”

They all scrambled underneath, using boxes and paint cans to prop up the sheets and make them look like they were covering furniture or supplies rather than people. It was hard to say how convincing this might be. It seemed to have worked on men who were tired and distracted and didn’t expect to find anybody there. People who were looking for an intruder might not fall for it at all.

“What if they find us?” whispered Luca, crouching in in front of his mother under one of the sheets.

“Harry.” Alberto poked the young monster. The two of them were curled up under Helena’s empty suitcase, left open beside one wall. “If they come in here, you pop out and scare them away.”

“What? No way!” said Harry, shaking his head hard. “There might be a lot of them!”

“Sssssh!” hissed Giulia, under the second cloth with her own mother.

For the first couple of minutes, Luca hoped the security guards might only search the first floor and then give up. That evaporated when he realized the footsteps were now coming up the steps. What had been indistinct voices began to turn into actual words.

“... said she thought her son and his friends were in here,” one of the men was saying. “I sent her home.”

“Should have escorted her the whole way,” another replied.

Nobody dared breathe. The footsteps came closer and closer, keys jingled, and then the ominous creak as the door opened. Flashlight beams darted around the room, one shining right into Luca’s eyes so that even with the sheet over his head, he had to close them. Would they move on, or had they seen something suspicious.

“Mamma mia,” one of them groaned. “Who do you all think you’re fooling?” He stepped forward and reached for the sheet.

Daniela stood up, hands on her hips. “Luca,” she ordered, “the water.”

That was right – they still had the buckets of water they’d prepared for disguising themselves upon entering the monster world. Luca grabbed the nearest one.

“Signora Paguro,” the guard said calmly as he pulled the sheet away. “We were very clear that...”

Luca threw the water over his mother. The security guard yanked the cloth away, expecting to see a harried-looking woman in her late thirties, and found instead a sharp-toothed, scaly creature with glowing red eyes and a lashing tail. Daniela couldn’t roar like the closet monsters could, but she let out a high-pitched scream to match the one she’d given when she’d suddenly found Luca, Alberto, and Giulia inside the room.

The guards dropped their flashlights and grabbed each other as they screamed back in terror, then fell over each other in their panic to leave. One was pushed to the ground as the other two left him behind. He was screaming insults at them as he picked themselves up to follow.

“And stay out!” Daniela shouted as the half-ran, half tumbled down the stairs outside.

“They’ll be back with more people,” said Giulia. “Just like they were for Harry. We gotta go.”

“What about me getting home?” Harry complained.

“Giulia’s right,” Luca said, though he didn’t like to admit it, either. They hadn’t chased the guards off for good, they’d only bought a few minutes.

“We’ll have to try somewhere else,” Helena agreed. She picked up one of the flashlights and reached for the closet door. “Daniela, you climbed up. Can you show us...”

Then suddenly another light came on – this one shining from around the door which should have had nothing on the other side of it by empty street and scaffolding. Everybody froze. Luca dared to hope that something tonight was going to go his way.

“Doc!” a voice called from the other side. “It’s working now!”

That had to be their cue. “Harry,” Luca whispered. “Over here, quick!”

Luca, Giulia, and Alberto surrounded Harry, ready to push him through any opposition they might encounter on the other side of that door. Helena and Daniela took up positions behind them, to fend off intruders from downstairs. There wasn’t much available by way of potential weapons, but Helena had the flash on Giulia’s camera, and Daniela hefted two fairly full paint cans, ready to swing them at anyone who came in. Everybody held their breaths.

The light under the door went out again. Luca wilted, thinking they’d missed their chance – but then the door creaked open, and a glowing eye peered back at him.

“Now!” Luca shouted.

He and his friends pushed Harry at the one-eyed figure. The monster in the closet yelped in surprise and dived out of the way. Meeting none of the expected resistance, all four children tumbled through the opening to land in a heap on a tile floor.

“Luca!” Daniela dropped her paint cans and ran after them.

As she did, the main door of the room opened again, and light flooded in. There were too many people from a camera flash to be remotely effective. Seeing no other escape, Helena, too, ducked through the closet door, and slammed it shut behind her.

As their eyes adjusted to the dark, the group saw that they were in a long tiled room. One wall held a row of door stations, similar to but bulkier than the ones at the factory. The other was covered with all sorts of equipment and dials, with pipes, hoses, and bundles of wire leading into the ceiling or across the floor to the doors. Books, papers, chairs, and coffee cups were knocked over and strewn around, and there were sounds of panic and shouting coming from out in the hall. Luca knew they had to do something fast, before anyone tried to come back in. He looked around, and soon found what he was looking for.

“Water!” he said, pointing to the fire hose coiled behind a glass panel in the wall.

He and Alberto yanked the door open, setting off an alarm as they did. Luca uncoiled the hose, and Alberto turned the wheel. Water blasted out, and Luca pointed the nozzle at Alberto to soak him first.

From behind him there was an indignant cry of, “hey!”

“Huh?” Alberto turned around and let Luca turn the hose on himself and Daniela while he inspected a row of cupboards on the wall. One was half-open – just enough to let the jet of water spray inside. Alberto pulled it open all the way, and found a tangle of legs in black patent mary-jane shoes, belonging to a monster girl of twelve or thirteen who was now rather damp.

“You two again!” she exclaimed. It was the girl they’d repeatedly splashed at Harry’s school. “What is this, some kind of conspiraohmygod!”

“It was an accident!” said Luca. He turned off the hose and came to help her, only to realize that she was staring right past him and Alberto, looking at something else in utter terror. When Luca followed her gaze, he found his mother shaking extra water out of her fins, and behind her were Helena and Giulia. Both of them were also soaking wet, but that didn’t matter, because both of them were human.

“Oh, no, they’re fine!” Luca told the girl in the cupboard. “They’re friends of ours.”

“They’re poisonous!” the girl protested. “Or venomous or whatever! You were there when we learned about it!”

The lab door flew open again, and four or five monsters of various sizes – though all of them smaller than the large, intimidating ones who worked as Scarers at the factor – barged in carrying a variety of improvised weapons of their own. One had a large wrench, another a mop, and the one in the lead, who had three eyes and eight legs, was wielding a cricket bat. He scuttled forward and pointed it at the group.

“Unhand my daugh...” he began, then his eyes widened as he saw Daniela. For a moment he just stared in astonishment, and then his entire demeanour changed. He stood up straight and put the bat behind his back. “I’m so sorry, Ma’am. Miss? You startled me! Uh...” he took in Harry, crouched and covering his head at Daniela’s feet, and Luca and Alberto, helping the girl out of the cupboard, all while Helena and Giulia edged to the site to stay hidden behind Daniela.

“I’m fine, Dad,” the girl in the cupboard said, rolling her eyes.

“Oh! Tarantella!” the scientist exclaimed, as if he’d momentarily forgotten she was there. He gave his cricket bat to one of his very confused colleagues, and scuttled forward to check on his daughter. “You’re... all wet,” he observed.

“That’s their fault,” said Tarantella. “These guys go to my school, and apparently every time I meet them, I get wet!”

“Oh,” said the scientist. He had the name González embroidered on a pocket of his white coat. “Wait, what were they doing on the other side of that door. Ma’am?” he turned to Daniela. “Were you scaring in there? If so, I’m afraid there’s been some kind of mixup...”

“That’s a very long story, Sir,” said Luca. Harry hadn’t said anything yet, so it was apparently up to Luca to take charge. This was where their plan ran out, so he was going to have to make things up as he went... and the first priority, he decided, was to make sure nobody panicked again. “Sir,” he said, “we need your help with something, but we need you to not freak out! So before we do anything else, you need to know that humans aren’t poisonous!”

“They aren’t?” asked González. He grabbed Luca by the shoulders, holding on uncomfortably tight as he gave the boy a bit of a shake. “You know that for certain?”

“Sure do,” said Alberto.

“Mom,” Luca said. “Move over.”

González looked up at Daniela again. “Oh, that’s your mom?” he asked, disappointed – but then his breath caught as she stepped aside to reveal Helena and Giulia. His grip on Luca relaxed, allowing him to wiggle free.

“This wasn’t part of the plan at any point,” Helena noted. Her eyes went to the closet door, but it was sitting quietly in its frame with the lights off, perhaps no longer connected. There’d been no more noises from beyond it.

“Miercoles!” whispered González. He started to step towards them, then stopped and looked at Luca for permission. “May I, then?”

Helena took over, and gave him a hand to shake. “Piacere, Dr. González. I’m Helena Marcovaldo, and this is my daughter, Giulia.”

“Ah... Javier González. ¡Encantada!” he replied, returning the handshake. After a couple of seconds he realized he’d gone on too long, and pulled his hand back to stare at it, turning it over to see the back. Then his face split into a broad, toothy grin. “I knew it! I knew it! Ha-ha! People think you’re crazy when you say Big Scream is hiding things, but I knew it!” He turned to his daughter. “Tarantella, didn’t I... ooooh, wait’ll I tell your mother! I’m gonna get a Gnoble Prize for this, I know it! The man who brought down the Scream cartel!”

Tarantella wasn’t impressed. “Haven’t you been saying that people who try to talk about it vanish?” she asked, worried.

At the same time, another monster poked one of its heads into the room, while another looked back over its shoulder. “Dr. González?” the first head said. “The police and exterminators have arrived.”

“Oh, no,” said Luca. They really should have had a plan for this part... but how could they have, when they didn’t know where they’d end up? And they certainly couldn’t have planned for Giulia and Helena being here. That had only happened because of the need to escape from the security guards in Genova. If only there were a third world where they weren’t in trouble!

“Oh, no,” González echoed. “Not this time!” He turned to his guests. “You two, you can just...” he stopped there, his mouth falling open. Daniela and the boys were drying out, and transforming.

“More water!” said Luca. He grabbed the hose to spray them all again. Tarantella shrieked preemptively and dived behind a trash can.

Dr. González clearly had questions about this, too, but he was much more interested in getting away with whatever it was he thought he was doing. He started up another door, and hustled Helena and Giulia through it. “Just wait right there,” he ordered them. “I’ll come and get you in a minute!” He then shut off the station, leaving Luca and Alberto slightly terrified that they would never see their friends again. Where had he sent them? It could have been anywhere.

There was no time to think about that, though. Moments later, a couple of policemonsters arrived, along with an individual in the yellow plastic suit of an exterminator. The latter was a hulking, hunchbacked creature with one head that peeked over the top of the other one, and the very long visor in that part of the suit made Luca feel like far too many eyes were watching him. All he could do, though, was stand in a line with Harry, Alberto, and Tarantella, while his mother and González took up positions behind them, trying to look like nothing had been going on.

“An alarm went off in here,” said one of the police monsters, a creature with three legs, two arms, a bushy mane, and far too many teeth.

“Ah, yes,” said González with a nervous laugh. “Yes, we’ve had a little... you can probably see, we’ve had a little problem with the fire system. Water everywhere! Don’t worry, nobody’s hurt. Of all the times for it to happen, it was bring your children to work day!”

“It’s okay,” Alberto put in, throwing an arm around Luca. “We’re sea monsters. We’re supposed to be wet, anyway!”

The other cop – a slug-shaped creature with a ridge down her back like a dragon – sighed. “You’ve really gotta get this place inspected, González,” she said. “This is the third false alarm this month.”

“It’s an old building, Maggie,” González replied apologetically.

“Just file the report,” Maggie sighed. “Maybe talk to the university council.”

“I’ll do that.”

The cops and exterminator took one last cursory look around the room, then turned and trooped out. Luca and Alberto allowed themselves to exhale, and González turned the other door back on to let Giulia and Helena back in. The boys had wondered if they might take the opportunity to flee, but they were still there, Helena with her hands on her daughter’s shoulders as they re-entered the laboratory.

“Where were you?” Luca asked.

“No idea,” said Giulia.

“We could hear voices talking in a foreign language,” Helena added, “but I don’t know what it was.”

Luca gave Giulia a hug. “Okay,” he said, “now we need to figure out what we’re doing next!” he said. “We have to get to the factory and...”

“Oh, no,” said Daniela. “We’re not staying. Harry’s back where he belongs, now it’s our turn. Dr. González, put that door back. I’m taking these kids home.”

“You can’t!” González protested. “At least... the humans can’t! I need them to prove my case!”

“Excuse me, you can’t just keep us prisoner,” said Helena.

“We can’t go back right away,” Giulia said. “They’re probably still looking for us in the Palazzo.”

“We’ll be charged with trespassing,” Helena agreed.

“Yes, exactly,” said González, though it was questionable how much he was listening. “I’ve got to get you out of here. We need a disguise...”

Behind him, the lab door opened again. “Hey, Doc,” said the exterminator, poking its two heads in. Surprisingly for such a large creature, it’s voice was high-pitched. “I think those two boys...”

It stopped dead, staring at Helena and Giulia. There was no time to do anything about it. Even worse, at that moment the air conditioning came on. Before the exterminator had time to recover from its initial shock, Alberto, Luca, and Daniela had all dried out and changed back to human form.

“Oh, no,” said Luca.

The exterminator stared a moment longer, then grabbed a walkie-talkie from its belt. “Hey, uh, Maggie...” it began.

Daniela took action. She scooped up González, discarded cricket bat and hit the exterminator over its larger head. The monster staggered.

“Hey!” protested the smaller head. This one had a deep, booming voice.

Daniela hit that one, too, and the creature crumpled. The walkie-talkie rolled across the floor and came to rest at González’ many feet.

“Hello?” asked a voice on the radio.

González picked it up, cleared his throat, and did his best to imitate the squeaky voice of the larger head. “Why don’t you go grab some lunch, Maggie,” he said. “I’m gonna help the doctor re-check some of his safety gear.”

“So they weren’t the kids you were looking for?” asked the voice of the cop.

“Nope! Totally different! Over and out!” González turned the device off and tossed it in a trash can. “Come on! We have to get you all back to my place! You three, get wet again!”

Luca ran for the hose. “What about Giulia and her mom?” he asked, as Tarantella took cover.

González stopped, frowning. “Yes, what about them?” he mused. He looked around, and his eyes found the fallen body of the exterminator.

A few minutes later, Daniela and the boys were sopping wet again, and Helena was wearing the exterminator’s yellow suit, with Giulia riding piggyback to fill out the hunchback and the second head. This was awkward and Helena couldn’t move fast, but they didn’t get more than a few sideways looks as they crossed the building’s lobby.

“I need to call my Mom,” said Harry.

“You’re going to tell your parents?” González was aghast. “Young man, they’re the ones keeping these secrets from the masses! Your father is probably the mastermind of the whole conspiracy.”

“I know,” said Harry. “I’m not gonna tell them we brought the humans, I just wanna tell them I’m okay. Maybe Dad will even be happy to see me.”

The front doors opened onto an expansive car park, surrounding by multi-storey buildings. González considered the options available to him, then headed for a van with a Monsters University logo and the word custodial painted on the side of it. “Tarantella,” he said, holding out a hand.

His daughter pulled a bobby pin out of her hair. González took it, and unlocked the back of the van.

“Great,” sighed Luca. Another car ride in the dark – the last one hadn’t been fun at all. There was nothing else to be done, though, so he climbed in.

“What are you guys even doing back here?” Tarantella wanted to know. “If you got back to your own world, why did you come back here where everybody thinks you’re criminals? And why did you bring the humans with you? Isn’t that just gonna get you in more trouble?”

“They weren’t supposed to come back at all!” said Daniela crossly. “I explicitly told them not to. Only Harry was supposed to come back.”

“But since we’re already here,” Luca added, “we need to find out what happened to Louise and Curtis and Mr. Sullivan. They’re in trouble and it’s all our fault!”

“Who are they?” asked González. He climbed in the driver’s seat of the van and started pulling the dashboard apart.

“They used to work for my Dad,” said Harry. “They’re fired now.”

“We’re gonna take them back to our world,” Luca explained. “We live in a town where they’re pretty okay with monsters. They even kinda got used to Harry. They’ll be okay there.”

“You can’t do that,” Harry protested. “What happens when somebody from outside your town comes to visit? Then they’ll end up with a mob, like the one that was after me!”

“Not if my Dad has anything to say about it!” said Giulia.

“I don’t really think that’s a good idea, either,” Helena put in.

“But we gotta do something!” Luca insisted. “Now that we’re here, we need a plan again. We need to figure out where they are. Then we need to know how to get in there and help them escape. And then we need a door that’ll go back to our own world. That last part is easy, at least.”

“Yeah, Dr. González has lots of them,” Alberto agreed.

“I can’t just let you all go before I publish!” González complained. The engine of the van rumbled to life, and he did up his seatbelt before putting the vehicle in gear. “I’ve got to do controlled tests and double-blind studies! There’s months of work ahead!”

Tarantella shook her head. “Dad, you said they assassinate whistle-blowers, remember? Maybe you’d better keep this to yourself.”

“Truth needs to come out,” González said firmly. “There are martyrs in any revolution.”

“I can just ask where they are,” Harry said, getting back on topic.

“You think your dad’s going to tell you?” asked Alberto.

“Not him. There’ll be other people who know,” said Harry. “And they’ll tell me anything I wanna know because if I tell Dad they were mean, they might lose their jobs. Even if they don’t, I can go anywhere I want in the whole factory. Somebody in there has to know. I’ll find out.” He was starting to sound like himself again.

“Great! We’ll go from there,” said Luca.“In the mean time, can we please stay with you, Dr. González?”

“Of course, of course,” said González. They pulled out of the parking lot onto the street. “I’ve got observations to make!”

González lived in a house not far from the university. It was far smaller than the mansion where the Waternoose family lived, no bigger than Louise’s apartment, but still larger than the Marcovaldo family home in Portorosso. The garage was big enough for two cars, although there was only one inside. The rest was full of piled-up boxes and mechanical parts. Gonzalez backed the van up as close to the door as he dared, then hustled everybody inside in the hopes the neighbours wouldn’t see.

“I’ve gotta take the van back and get my bike,” he said. “I’ll only be a few minutes. Don’t go outside, don’t go near the windows, don’t go anywhere!” He wagged a finger at them. “Tarantella! You’re in charge of making sure they don’t escape!”

“Yes, Dad,” she said tiredly, then glared at the boys. “Don’t get me wet again!”

Luca held up his hands. “We won’t!” he promised.

“As long as nobody’s gonna see us, we don’t have to,” Alberto agreed.

“Good.” Tarantella scowled.

She turned the inside lock on the door, and they closed all the blinds and shutters. Then, when they were sure nobody could see them, Helena and Giulia were able to get out of the yellow Eterminator suit. The inside of it was clearly a very warm and claustrophobic place. Both were sweaty, and took deep breaths of fresh air as they wriggled out the zipper in the back.

“It’s got a breathing system of some sort,” Helena observed, “but it’s not designed for creatures with noses where ours are!”

“Hold it!” Tarantella shouted.

Harry had been reaching for the kitchen telephone, but Tarantella was now skittering up on the counter to place herself firmly between him and it, her arms held out on either side. Harry scuttled do the left, and she did the same. He tried the right, and she kept herself in his way. They did this dance several times, until Harry gave up in frustration.

“Why can’t I use the phone?” he demanded.

“Because you’re gonna call your dad!” Tarantella replied. “Then my Dad is gonna be in trouble! He’s always talking about how anyone who tries to tell the world that humans aren’t toxic gets silenced by Big Scream, and since he was right about the humans I guess he’s right about this, too! Find a phone booth or something.”

“She’s right,” Luca realized. “The same thing will happen to Dr. González as happened to Louise and everybody. Then we’ll have four people to save instead of three.”

Harry brightened. “Then that’s a good way to find out where they are, right?”

“No, it’s not!” Luca, Alberto, Giulia, and Tarantella all spoke in unison.

“We need to make a plan,” Luca insisted.

“Right,” Alberto nodded. “You’re the idea man, Luca. How are we gonna do this?”

Luca looked around and swallowed. Everybody was looking at him expectantly, including Harry and Tarantella... and they were all counting on him. Helena and Giulia needed to get back to the human world safely. Harry needed to not get in too much trouble for running off, and to not get the rest of them in trouble by accident. Tarantella needed her father to not get thrown in jail. Daniela would be furious if he or Alberto got hurt. And now all of them were expecting Luca to figure out how to do it.

“I need a minute,” he said.

[dreamsandcherrypie]

Maria’s Sketchbook Masterlist

We’ve reached a pivotal element of the story which involves someone sneaking a peak at our main character’s journal 😏

PS I’ll illustrate your fanfic too!! Bonus if it’s Dean but not required :)

Chapter 1: Prologue

The little girl from our power duo’s first case

. . . Until an entirely different kind of job appeared at the foot of my bed. A creepy as shit ghost of a girl in bows and dusty nightgown. But even so, you could tell she was a beautiful little girl in life . . .

Chapter 2: In da Club

Our main suspect

“Oh! An’ she had glasses! Ol’ timer ones with the thick squares,” the pretty southern woman drawled out in her honeyed accent from her hospital bed.

I quickly begin sketching some glasses on my drawing of our suspect.

“Mrs. Bennet, did you notice anything unique about her teeth?” I ask, super casually.

“Like wha?”

“I don’t know, maybe they were… pointy?”

“No miss... I woulda reckoned somethin’ like that.”

Chapter 3: Meet Me at the Crime Scene

Ava’s puppy eyes

“Please? I really think we could use their help and I really like Sam.”

“Can’t you boink Sam without us having to work with his stupid brother?”

She clasps prayer hands under her chin, tilts her head even further, and juts out her lower lip. I hold out for all of a few seconds.

“Ugh! Fine!” I throw up my hands in defeat.

Chapter 4: What’s the Steaks? Focused Dean

“Oh yes,” says Rose, now holding hands with Ava, “Tell me more.”

I catch Rose up on the bet and Ava up on that whole barstool thing.

“Do you think he fancies you?” asks Rose, on the edge of her nonexistent seat.

“Not a chance in hell! You should hear the way he talks to me!”

“I don’t know hun, it sounded awfully sexually charged,” says Rose.

“It kind of felt more like a threat?”

“Hot,” says Ava.

Chapter 5: A Whole Night

Cassettes

Chapter 6: Morning, Sunshine Green Soap 💚

Once most of the pool water is off my body, I steal a little of the boys’ green bar soap. I come out of the shower smelling like a straight dad, but I like it. Taking the liberty of using the guys’ cleanest looking towel, I dry off and wrap myself up. Chapter 7: This Plan Sounds Dumb

Vice

Chapter 8: Out of the Woods "Listen..."

Chapter 9: "Field of Blue"

Chapter 10: Fresh Tattoos, Loud Music, & Fast Cars

Chapter 11: Nightmares & Coconut Cream Pie

Breakfast of Champions

Chapter 12: Rock Me Asmodeus If you haven't seen the music video for the 80's smash hit "Rock Me Amadeus" sung by German band Falco go do yourself a favor

Chapter 13: Close Encounter I actually did this one for the fanfic but I just couldn't wait to post it

Chapter 14: Dreams... Chapter 15: ...And What? Huh? CHERRY PIE BABY!!! This 2-part chapter's artwork can be viewed exclusively on AO3 🥸

[doodle17]

The Brainiacs DTIYS

Ladies and Gents, we have reached a whopping 200+ followers! 🥳🥳🥳🥳Can you believe it? I sure can't! I just quickly want to thank everyone for the follows and getting me here. I never knew people would enjoy my silly little scribbles this much!

Before I get on to the big thing, I'm going to quickly say that NO I have not forgotten comic requests. In fact, I'm almost done with the first one! Just adding the finishing touches :)

Now, on to the thing I'm sure you've heard about - or not - either way, this is something I've been planning for a good while, and that thing is...

DOODLE88'S 200 FOLLOWERS PSYCHONAUTS FUTURE DTIYS!

I'm assuming you may know what the rules are, but in case you don't, I'll leave some answers to questions you may have...

For this DTYIS (draw this in your style), you don't have to have it shaded or lined exactly like the original. You can make it lineless, painted, traditional, or just a sketch with color! (This is a draw this in YOUR STYLE, after all)

- Try to keep the outfits and designs as close to the original as possible. Don't outright change their designs.By designs, I mean hair and other accessories. You can change proportions like head shape and size to fit your style.

- You can slightly alter poses and facial expressions if you want.

-The special # to be used will be "the braniacs 200 follower DTIYS"

-@ me in the post!! I want to be able to see it!!!

-PLEASE REBLOG THE CRAP OUT OF THIS! I want as many people to see this and participate as possible!

- Please, don't be weird.

This'll be going on for 3 months! Deadline will be July (14) 11:59 Mountain time, and winners and whatnot will be announced 4 days to a week afterward. If you are unable to complete the illustration before the deadline, but want to submit it, its perfectly fine to just enter an unfinished illustration or sketch. It's highly unlikely it will get a winning spot, but it might get an honarable mention! :) Speaking of which...

There will be 3 winners and a few "Honorable Mentions"! 3rd place gets a traditional sketch, 2nd place gets a digital sketch with color, and 1st place is a full and complete illustration! Honarable mentions get shoutouts with an @ and a link to their illustration. When winners are announced, said winners can send an ask or DM me a request of what they want. You can read some of the rules I have when it comes to requests and most things in general on my pinned post. Request can be anything*!

I can't wait! This is so exciting! Good luck to everyone participating, I'm excited to see what you'll do with this!

*It doesn't have to be Psychonauts' themed unless that's what you want. It can be of an oc, a character you really like, etc. It can really be anything as long as it follows my rules

!!PLEASE REBLOG THIS!!

[littlestarabove]

One Master of Death

➼ pairing: Harry Potter x reader

➼ summary: This drabble illustrates your years with Harry and his friends all leading up to the present… and what a dark present it is.

➼ word count: 13.9k (this is too long to be considered a drabble… oops)

➼ what to expect: “I would say something witty… but my mind is blank.”

➼ additional warnings: angst, character death, deathly hallows part 1 spoilers, almost graphic injuries (if you squint, i don’t like blood either)

➼ talk to my characters!

➼ IF YOU HAVE SEEN THIS SOMEWHERE ELSE, it was posted to a different blog, also owned by ME, so it's still my original work

You never thought it would come to this.

Things didn’t turn out the way you expected them to, and certainly didn’t fall in line with your previous years at Hogwarts had gone.

All your life, being a witch had been a dream. Magic was absolutely fascinating to you. When you received your invitation to join Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, you weren’t shocked, scared, or even nervous. You were ecstatic. You’d always known there was magical presence within your life, though your Muggle parents always chalked it up to your over-active imagination. You couldn’t find any other way to explain the strange occurrences when you were sad, angry, scared, or even happy. Objects levitated, valuables shattered, and other unexplainable things happened with your emotions that not even the best doctors could understand.

You could finally tell your family “I told you so,” when your letter came in the mail- well, rather by screech owl. Next thing you knew, after converting all of your allowance to galleons, you were on your way to Diagon Alley.

Now, this place was your dream. Every where you looked, magic inhabited every nook and cranny. You didn’t even know where to start. Of course, you had your list of school supplies, but you weren’t paying it any mind as your head ran ramped with thoughts about where to begin. You hadn’t even arrived at Hogwarts and you were planning out the next seven years of your academic career with extreme detail.

You were wandering aimlessly when you saw her- through the musty window The Magical Menagerie inside of a golden cage- your future companion and confidant. She was the most majestic creature you’d ever seen, and you wanted nothing more than for her to be yours.

You walked out of The Magical Menagerie with your very own screech owl, who you later decided to call Maggie. There was no particular reasoning as to why you picked that name- it just seemed fitting.

Your wand ceremony was probably something you would remember for the remainder of your life. It was one of the most magical and ethereal events you’d experienced in your entire life. The wand that settled on you was made of reed wood, 15 inches long, with a core of dragon heartstring. Mr. Ollivander specified that you were destined for a dramatic, adventured-filled life, but also warned you of the dangers that lied ahead of you.

Whatever that meant. You didn’t take him seriously. You were 11.

♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡

You want to say you met Hermione Granger due to the fact that you’re both amazing people adept with social skills and the ability to integrate with other witches and wizards, but that would be a big, fat lie.

You met her when you both stayed in the library after hours, which resulted in the two of you being locked in for the night until someone came to open it up in the early hours of the morning.

Which wasn’t for a long time.

It was your second year at Hogwarts, and this mistake was understandable… for a first year. Had you been 11, you wouldn’t have been so hard on yourself. But, no, you were at the grand age of 12 years old, you should know better.

That’s what your tween brain thought, at least. You used to look back on this memory with Hermione and laugh.

Speak of the devil, this is how you got to know the brilliant witch, through forced socialization behind the locked doors of the dimly lit library.

“Guess we’re stuck here, huh?” you were the first to speak. Hermione looked up at you and nodded.

“Guess we are.” She pouted.

“I’m Y/N L/N.” You stuck your hand out for Hermione to shake, which she did, politely.

“I’m Hermione Granger.” She smiled brightly, to which you returned.

“So… how did you end up in here past closing?” you asked cautiously.

“I simply lost track of time, I was looking for something.” Hermione explained vaguely, the both of you seated hopelessly in front of the doors to the exit. You sighed deeply.

“I fell asleep on my book.” you admitted. Hermione giggled, which pulled a laugh of your own through your throat.

“The boys are never going to let me live this one down.” Hermione sighed with a hopeless grin. You tilted your head at her.

“The boys?” you questioned curiously. Hermione smiled sheepishly. “My friends, Harry and Ron. They’re going to tease me about this endlessly.” Hermione chuckled.

“Harry? As in, Harry Potter?” you questioned, to which Hermione confirmed with a nod. “I’ve seen him around, but never here.”

Hermione snorted and shook her head. “That’s because I don’t think they’ve ever set foot in the library.” she snickered.

“That’s a shame, I love it in here. It’s where I belong.” You joked, beaming.

“I practically live in here, how come I’ve never seen you before?” Hermione inquired with confusion. Your cheeks turned a dull shade of red as you ducked your head.

“I sit near the back, it’s quieter back there.” You explained nervously.

“Ah, that would be why. I sit near the front.” Hermione giggled.

Next thing you knew, the two of you were chatting and sharing life stories while playing with the cards with a pack that you had buried in one of your robe pockets.

“What are you actually doing stuck here, Hermione?” you raised an eyebrow as you adjusted your hand of cards. Hermione sighed in defeat.

“I guess I could tell you. I’m looking for a recipe for polyjuice potion.” she admitted as she scanned her remaining cards.

“Wow, that’s quite complicated, I hear. I’m impressed. What do you need it for?”

“We’re trying to figure out who the heir of Slytherin is, and we need the potion to sneak into their common room undetected.” Hermione explained thoroughly.

“Oh, that rumor with the horrid message written in blood on the wall? I thought it was all an elaborate prank, but then the professors began to worry, so I knew it was serious.” You clarified with a grimace.

“We think it’s Malfoy.” Hermione announced. You snorted. “Doesn’t everyone? Malfoy is the perfect git to be the heir to a Muggle hating wizard.” you grumbled.

Hermione laughed. “Ron and Harry would like you, you’re funny and you hate Malfoy. That’s two things they look for in a person.” Hermione joked with a hint of seriousness.

“I think I would like them as well.” you smiled with a polite undertone.

Hermione looked at her cards and groaned. “I fold.” She placed her cards face down. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“I thought we were playing go-fish?”

The two of you burst into a fit a laughter. That was the night that began a lasting friendship between two extraordinary witches.

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“Hermione, why are we in such a rush?” Ron whined as he struggled to keep up with her fast pace. Hermione huffed.

“I’ve got a friend keeping the book we need safe. We’re already late meeting her there.” Hermione explained in exasperation.

The trio burst through the doors to the library and Hermione began to scan the crowd when she remembered something important.

“She sits near the back, come on.” Hermione waved urgently as she began her path to the back of the library.

She peeked into every row with the hope of finding you sitting alone with the book you’d promised to find in your free time. Much to Hermione’s surprise, you weren’t as close to the back as she had originally thought. She found you in no time.

“There you are! I was beginning to worry.” You noticed them as they came barreling down towards you, all with heavy breathing.

“Sorry. Lost track of time.” Hermione apologized. You shook your head.

“No worries. I’ve got the book here.” You shook the book in your hand to indicate your findings.

Harry and Ron stood utterly confused behind Hermione as she took a seat without hesitation.

“Who are you?” Ron asked quite bluntly. Hermione groaned.

“Must you be so direct?” Hermione gestured to you. “Harry, Ron, this is Y/N. Y/N, this Harry, and that’s Ron.” Hermione pointed to each boy respectively. You beamed widely at them.

“Pleasure to meet you both.” neither of them replied, only stared at you.

“Warm welcome.” you chuckled awkwardly. Hermione noticed your distress and hurried to confront the boys.

“Be polite. She’s helping us.” Hermione gestured violently for them to sit. They both did as they were told.

You tried your best to ignore the fact that Hermione might as well have promised that you would be well-liked by her friends. You chewed on the inside of your cheek nervously as you presented Hermione with the book you’d promised her.

In the dark nook, you, Harry, Ron, and Hermione huddled around the book entitled “Moste Potente Potions.” The spotted pages were littered with disturbing illustrations.

You flipped to your book mark and dragged your finger under the sub title.

“Here it is: ’The Polyjuice Potion. Properly brewed, the Polyjuice Potion allows the drinker to transform himself temporarily into the physical form of another’…” You read directly from the text, trailing off as you reached the end of the important information.

“You mean, Harry and I drink some of this stuff and we turn into Crabbe and Goyle?” Ron leaned forward to clarify his suspicions.

“Yes.” Hermione assured. Ron beamed widely.

“Wicked! Malfoy’ll tell us anything!” Ron exclaimed excitedly.

“Exactly. But, it’s tricky. I’ve never seen a more complicated potion. Lacewing flies, leeches, fluxweed. And, of course, we’ll need a bit of whoever we want to change into too.” Hermione worried her bottom lip as she read over the ingredients for the overly complicated and advanced potion.

“Hang on now. I’m drinking nothing with Crabbe’s toenails in it.” Ron grumbled with a grimace.

“How long will it take to make?” Harry leaned forward over Ron’s shoulder to take a more intricate peek at the instructions.

“It looks like a month.” you scanned over the pages carefully.

“A month? But if Malfoy is the heir of Slytherin… he could attack half the Muggle-borns in the school by then.” Harry cautioned. Hermione shivered.

“As if people like us need more reason to be targeted by Malfoy.” You placed your chin in the palm of your hand with a pout.

Hermione beamed. “You’re a Muggle-born as well? I knew we were going to be great friends.”

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Harry and Ron made their exit from their library as you and Hermione remained seated to further study the potion to better learn the ins and outs.

Ron pulled Harry aside with a worried expression. “I don’t think Y/N being in our group is a good idea. We do not need another Hermione to nag us about every little thing.” Ron was practically livid. Harry shrugged.

“I dunno. I think it would be nice to have another girl around. Someone… to keep Hermione occupied.” Harry’s lie wasn’t the most clever, but he figured it was enough to throw Ron off his scent. Quite frankly, the prospect of having another girl join their group made Harry quite flustered, especially due to the fact that you’re probably one of the prettiest 12-year-olds he’d ever seen. But, of course, it didn’t take much to convince Ron otherwise.

“You’re right. That would be a big weight off our own shoulders.” Ron agreed. Harry smiled in spite of his lie.

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Third Year

Silence. A room of shadows. While those around him slumbered, Harry lied awake, unable to sleep. Finally, he turned to his cupboard, took out the Marauder’s Map, and whispered,

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

The crooked corridors and serpentine passageways of Hogwarts radiated across the parchment, then… a tiny dot caught Harry’s eye. He frowned. It read: “Peter Pettigrew.”

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Harry moved down a dark corridor, map in hand, wand aglow. In the paintings he passed, the subjects snored softly.

Harry’s and Peter’s figures on the map drew closer and closer.

Harry squinted toward the end of the corridor. Down at the map. Pettigrew moved quickly down the adjoining corridor. Twenty yards away. Ten. Only seconds away…

Wand trembling in his hand, Harry glanced from the map to the dark corridor ahead, again and again. Then… as the two dots were about to collide… he looked slowly up, turned the corner, heart in his chest… and met-

You?

“Oh! Harry!” You exclaim as you nearly rammed right into Harry.

Harry blinked, startled, then glanced down at the map. Pettigrew had moved past him, but your figure stood adjacent to his. Odd, how hadn’t he noticed that before?

“Y/N. What are you doing down here?” Harry raised an eyebrow in question. You were quick to explain yourself.

“Hermione wanted to conduct some research on werewolves… can’t imagine why… but she mentioned something about it being far too late for her, so I went instead.” You gestured to all the rolls of parchment in your arms- your diligent notes.

“I was just on my way back… hold on, what are you doing up at this hour, Harry?” you redirected the conversation onto Harry. He froze.

“Um… well…” Harry glanced down at the map, flustered, and back up to you.

“Is that the Marauder’s Map? The Weasley twins mentioned that they gave it to you.” You pointed at the map in curiosity. Harry’s expression turned confused, but, yet again, you were quick to clarify.

“I was helping them set up a prank… they needed to know the precise angle a… certain bucket had to be placed at on the top of a… certain professor’s door.” you grinned sheepishly rocking on your heels. Harry smiled softly.

“I was just… looking for someone. I think the map is mistaken… says Peter Pettigrew is heading… that way.” Harry pointed in the direction he’d come from. You follow his finger.

“Pettigrew? Hermione mentioned he was dead.” You shrugged. Harry mimicked your actions.

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s follow it.” you gestured in the direction that Harry had pointed to. Confused but excited, Harry turns on his heel to follow you, casting his wand along the walls.

“Watch it there, boy!”

You and Harry jumped. But it was only an old man in a painting, scowling in the glare of Harry’s wand light. On the map, Pettigrew continued to move away. Harry made to follow, with you in tow, then stopped, hearing footsteps. The wand’s spot danced across the parchment, and found another dot. Approaching fast: Severus Snape.

“Put it away!” You hissed urgently. Harry fumbled to put the tip of his wand on the map. “Mischief managed!” He stashed the map away, extinguishing his wand, and turned… into the harsh glare of Snape’s wand.

“Potter.” Snape sneered. Snape moved his wand slightly to the left and illuminated you, grinning sheepishly.

“L/N.” He grumbled.

“What’re you two doing wandering the corridors at night?” Snape questioned.

“We were… we were sleepwalking…”

A sneer curdled the corner of Snape’s lips.

“How extraordinarily like your father you are, Potter. He, too, was exceedingly arrogant. Strutting about the castle-”

“My dad didn’t strut. Nor do I. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d appreciate you lowering your wand.” Harry straightened and nodded towards Snape’s wand, aimed directly to his face and nearly blinding him.

Snape eyed Harry coldly, containing himself. He lowered his wand.

“Turn out… your pockets, the both of you.” Snape demanded.

You nor Harry moved, Harry’s eyes still boring into Snape.

“Turn out your pockets!”

Finally, the both of you obliged. You turned up with nothing but your scrolls. But, seeing the map, Snape’s eyes glittered.

“And this. What might it be?” He asked.

“Spare bit of parchment…” You came up with hastily. Your mind worked quickly when it came to confrontation, it was one of your skills.

“Really…” Snape poised his wand over the map. “Reveal your secrets!”

To both of your horror, words began to appear. Snape studied you both, a sadistic half-smile on his lips. He turned the map your way.

“Read it.” Snape ordered.

“Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs… offer their compliments to Professor Snape… and…” Harry glanced up at professor Snape after reading the rest, unsure.

“Go on.” Snape urged. You leaned over Harry’s shoulder and snorted.

“And request that he keep his abnormally large nose out of other people’s business.” You snickered, your eyes locked with Snape’s.

Snape’s smile drooped. “Why you insolent little-”

“Professor?”

Snape turned to see Professor Lupin standing in the shadows.

“Well, well. Lupin. Out for a little walk in the moonlight, are we?” Snape sneered.

“Harry? Y/N? You all right?”

“That remains to be seen. I’ve just now confiscated a rather curious artifact from Mr. Potter and Miss L/N. Take a look, Lupin. This is supposed to be your area of expertise.” Snape snatched the parchment from Harry’s grip and presented it to Lupin. Lupin took the parchment, which now displayed a rather unflattering caricature of Snape and a pair of potions.

“Clearly, it’s full of dark magic.” Snape continued.

“I seriously doubt that, Severus. it looks to me as if it merely insults anyone who tries to read it. It suspect it’s a Zonko product. Nevertheless, I shall pursue any hidden qualities it may possess. As you say, it’s my area of expertise. Come, Harry, Y/N.”

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The two of you walked aside a fuming Lupin, who gripped the map fiercely.

“I don’t know how this map came to be in your possessions, Harry, Y/N, but I’m astounded that you didn’t turn it in immediately. Especially you, Miss L/N. For all that time you spend with Granger, I would have expected her behavior to rub off on you in some way.” Lupin fumed. You hung your head. Lupin directed his next comment to Harry.

“Harry, did you ever stop to think that this- in the hands of Sirius Black- is a map to-”

Lupin stops when he realizes that he and Harry were not alone, and stops himself from going any further. Harry waved his hands in defense. “Don’t worry, Professor… she knows… about Sirius.” Harry was referring to the information Hermione had entrusted you with recently- About Harry’s relation to Sirius and the plot against him.

You nodded in confirmation. Lupin sighed with an expression of relief.

“A map to you?” he finished. Harry walked alongside silently, you hot on his heels. Lupin could barely contain his anger.

“Your father didn’t set much store by rules either. But he and your mother did give their lives to save yours. Gambling their sacrifice by walking about the castle unprotected, with a killer on the loose, strikes me as a poor way to repay them. I won’t cover for you again, Harry.”

Lupin entered his office, tossed the map on his desk, and began to sort through some papers. You and Harry lingered briefly in the doorway. You absently eyed the waxing moon that glimmered beyond the window, then stared to turn away.

“Professor. Just so you know, I don’t think the map always works. Earlier, it showed someone in the castle. Someone I know to be dead.” You directed your attention to Lupin, away from the moon.

“And who was that, Y/N?” He was only half-listening.

“Peter Pettigrew.” Harry finished.

Lupin hesitated ever-so-slightly, then returned to his papers.

“Very well. I’d like you to return to your dormitories now. Oh, and don’t take any detours.”

As you and Harry looked back, Lupin tapped the map. “If you do, I’ll know.” Lupin smirked slightly.

You and Harry rounded the corner and set on the path back to the Gryffindor common room.

The moment you’re out of sight of Lupin’s office, your burst into a fit of giggles, catching Harry by surprise.

“That was amazing. When you spend all of your time with Hermione, you never almost get caught like that! Oh, it was exhilarating.” you sighed happily, turning to Harry.

“I… never would have thought that you liked things of the sort.” Harry nervously scratched the nape of his neck as the two of you neared the common room.

“There’s a lot you’ll have to learn about me, Harry. I’ll see you later?” You murmured the password to the common room and stepped inside, Harry not far behind. You moved to disappear up the stairs to the girls’ dormitories when Harry stopped you.

“Have breakfast with us tomorrow.” he blurted. It was enough to stop you in your tracks and to make you turn to face him.

“Hm. I suppose I could. I’ll see you there, Potter.” you disappeared around the staircase.

Harry smiled to himself, his heart pitter-pattering in his chest as he stared off in the direction you disappeared in.

Oh dear, was he in trouble now.

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Fourth Year

It was almost as if your fourth year (so far) had gone by in a blur. You arrived at school, got a new, suspiciously shady professor, and all of a sudden, Harry as a contestant in the infamous Triwizard Tournament. You were worried because of what the tournament was infamous for- severe injury and competition to the death.

You, Hermione, Ron, and Harry were sat in the Great Hall, scowling at the latest addition of the Daily Prophet. Hermione had been made out to look like she was after two famous wizards- Viktor Krum and Harry. She was livid, but you all managed to distract her for a limited period of time.

“Parcel for you, Mr. Weasley.” a small boy approached the table and presented Ron with a particularly large parcel.

“Ah, thank you, Nigel.”

The boy stared in jittery awe at Harry.

“Not now, Nigel.” Ron urged Nigel off.

As Nigel stumbled off, you, Harry, and Hermione eyed Ron. He shrugged.

“I told him I’d get him Harry’s autograph. Hey look. Mum’s sent me something… Mum’s sent me a dress.”

Harry watched Ron lift a lace-trimmed gown from the box.

“Does match your eyes. Is there a bonnet? Ah- hah!” Harry pulled a matching little collar from the box and tossed it at Ron. You giggled from beside Harry, not-so-subtly drinking a sip of pumpkin juice to hide it.

“Nose down, Harry.” Ron grumbled. He moved to Ginny hopefully. “Hey, Ginny. This must be for you.”

Ginny grimaced at the manky old thing. “I’m not wearing that. It’s ghastly.” She gasped as she laid eyes on it.

Hermione, back of her hand pressed to her mouth, suppressed a laugh.

“What are you on about?” Ron grumbled.

“They’re not for Ginny. They’re for you. Dress robes.” Hermione clarified with a smile.

“Dress robes? For what?” Ron panicked.

Professor McGonagall seemed to appear out of no where, making herself known by answering Ron’s question. “The Yule Ball. Which, if you don’t mind, I’d like to speak to you about, Potter.”

Harry nodded as he let McGonagall pull him off to the side to speak to him privately.

“The Yule Ball, Professor?” Harry questioned as they were out of earshot from his friends.

“It’s traditional during the Triwizard Tournament for the host school to put on a Christmas ball. It is also traditional for the three Champions- or in this case four- to be the first to dance.”

Harry cocked his head, as if he had water in his ear.

“Dance? With a girl?” His voice shook slightly with the question.

“Traditionally with a young lady, yes. Why don’t you take…” McGonagall searched the area where Harry’s friends sat for a suitable date. Her eyes settled on you and she smiled.

“Miss L/N? You’ve been spending an awful lot of time with her, recently. And she’s a lovely girl. A lot like your friend, Miss Granger.” McGonagall beamed as she gestured to you.

Harry followed her line of sight as his eyes settled on you as well. You sat in your seat quietly, sipping absentmindedly on your goblet of pumpkin juice as you watch Hermione and Ron converse heatedly about the condition of his ancient dress robes.

You open your mouth and make some kind of remark, which Harry can’t hear, but it caused Hermione to laugh whole-heartedly, which Ron soon joined in reluctantly, and even Ginny snickered to herself.

Harry beamed unconsciously. “She is lovely, isn’t she?” He sighed. McGonagall’s smile widened but Harry quickly caught himself.

“Oh, um, I mean, I could… ask Y/N. As friends, of course.” He added hastily. McGonagall’s smile slightly faltered but she continued nonetheless.

“I leave that decision up to you, Potter. But know this: the House of Godric Gryffindor has a reputation as long as it is illustrious. It demands and receives the respect of the entire wizard world. No house has produced more witches and wizards of consequence. You stand upon the shoulders of giants, Potter. Shame yourself and you shame all who came before you.”

Just then, a commotion was heard. Turning, McGonagall watched Seamus pelt Dean Thomas with a custard pie.

McGonagall’s face dropped.

So much for honoring the house of Gryffindor.

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The entire rank and file of Godric Gryffindor’s current roster- girls on one side, boys on the other, stood before a fierce McGonagall in what you could only conclude as some sort of dance class.

“You have to get a grip! Your behavior barely rises to the level of the common toadstool! I WILL NOT HAVE IT!”

The students exchanged nervous glances.

“Now. To dance is to let the body…” McGonagall took a deep breath as demonstration, “… breathe. Inside every girl a secret swan slumbers, longing to burst free and take flight. Inside each boy, a lordly lion, prepared to prance.” McGonagall illustrated.

“Something may be about to burst out of Eloise Midgen, but I don’t think it’s a swan.” Ron snickered.

“Mr. Weasley.”

“Yes?” Ron jumped and yelled his response, surprised to have been caught.

“Would you join me, please?” McGonagall glared intensely.

Ron glanced about in a panic, then slumped forward like a man heading to the gallows.

“Now then, if you will, put your left hand on my waist…”

“Where?!”

“My waist, Mr. Weasley.”

Grudgingly, Ron obeyed. As Fred and George whistle, Ron raised his right hand in a rude rejoinder when McGonagall closed her hand over his just in the nick of time.

“That’s right, extend your arm… and, Mr. Filch, if you would…”

Filch dropped the needle onto an old record player and a musty waltz filled the courtyard. Instantly, Neville smiled, bobbing his head, as if transported by the music.

“And one and two…” McGonagall kept the tempo skillfully.

“Oi!” Harry leaned back to Fred and George, who leaned forward to accommodate his height.

“Never going to let him forget this, are you?” Harry grinned. Fred and George shook their heads.

“Never. ” They replied incredibly in sync.

“Everyone! Come together…” McGonagall urged as she continued her waltz with a reluctant Ron.

The music swelled as the girls and boys nervously crossed the divide and began to pair off.

You shuffled anxiously through the crowd, watching as it seemed that every girl had a partner save for you.

You could feel your anxiety begin to spike and your self-esteem drop to an all-time low when-

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing over here all alone?”

You spun around quickly at the familiar voice and found the teasing face of Harry Potter standing before you. You sighed in relief.

“Oh, um… just observing, I guess.” You replied unconvincingly.

“Don’t observe. Come dance. I need practice.” Harry took your hand and led you to the floor.

Harry placed his his over your rib-cage while you placed your hands on his shoulder and in his other hand. You giggled.

“Harry, your hand goes on my waist, dear.” you mimicked McGonagall the best you could. Harry snorted with a faint flush dusting the apples of his cheeks in the most flattering way.

“I know.” He scoffed. You rolled your eyes and removed your hand from his shoulder to encase it over his wrist and pushed it down on to your lower waist.

“You do need practice, Potter.” you moved your feet according to the music as Harry clumsily attempted to mimic you. He did end up stepping quite harshly on your toes, however.

“Ow!” You gasped, removing your hands from him to hop on one foot.

“Sorry! I’m just… extremely uncoordinated.” Harry groaned at himself. You dusted off your now unpolished uniform shoe and waved him off assuringly.

“That’s what this class is for. Just follow my lead.” You nodded down to your feet and Harry followed your eyes.

“One, two, three… one, two, three…” You began softly as you moved slowly to accommodate Harry’s speed.

“How do you know so much about dancing?” Harry asked without taking his eyes from both of your feet.

“My parents are Muggles, I attended cotillion as a child.” you reminded with a smile. Harry looked up at you, realizing your faces were in very close proximity.

“Well… um… lucky me, I guess.” He chucked nervously. You beamed brightly at him, resulting in his heart jumping into his throat and being unable to keep himself quiet.

“Would you teach me how to dance?” He blurted instinctively. Your mind blanked for a moment as you were making sure you heard him correctly.

“I just… McGonagall told me not to embarrass Gryffindor and I thought that I should take some lessons from someone with dancing experience…” Harry avoided eye contact with you. Your heart sank into your stomach. Why on earth did you think he was going to ask you to be his date? You’re only friends.

“Oh, um… right, yeah. Sure. I’ll teach you a few things.” You tried to keep your voice from shaking, but the disappointment was clearly present.

Harry grinned half-heartedly. “Great.”

If only the both of you knew how much the other’s heart was sinking down into the depths of hopelessness.

You were beginning to think Gryffindor, known for courage, was not the house for you. You wondered what was going through the sorting hat’s mind when he placed you.

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After a few days of unsuccessfully acquiring a Yule Ball date, Harry made his way to the Owlery, which stood like a stranded scarecrow in a sea of white. Suddenly, an owl fluttered forth and Harry halted. Footsteps sounded and a figure descended the Owlery’s snow-laden stairs, flickering in and our of view. Seconds later, a girl appeared.

Cho.

“Harry.” Cho acknowledged.

“Cho.”

They stood awkwardly for a moment. Cho gestured all around. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” She questioned quietly. Harry nodded.

“Yeah, splendid.” he replied.

He glanced away, face hidden from Cho, and grimaced, mouthing ‘splendid’ in miserable mortification.

“Well, watch yourself on the stairs. A bit icy at the top.” Cho informed bashfully as she intended to make her leave.

“Okay. Thanks.” But as she smiled and turned, Harry pressed further. “Cho!”

He said this so forcefully, she nearly stumbled stopping. “Yes?”

“I just wondered if, maybe, you… wannagoballwime?”

“Sorry… I didn’t catch that?”

Harry collected himself with a deep inhale and repeated his question, “I wondered if you’d like to… to… go to the ball with me?”

Cho’s face fell grimly. “Oh. Harry. I’m sorry. But someone’s already asked me and I’ve said I’ll go. With him.”

“Oh. Well, good. I mean… okay. No problem.” Harry looked away, flexing his fingers within his mittens. Cho chewed her lip, frowning, then turned away. As she went, Harry exhaled, shaking his head, when-

“Harry?”

He looked up and saw her staring him straight in the eye.

“I really am… sorry.” She turned then, and Harry watched her dash back toward the distant castle, filling his footprints with her own.

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“Hermione! You’ll never believe what happened!” you rushed quickly to Hermione’s side the moment you entered the common room and found her in one of the comfortable arm chairs. She silently urged you to finish your statement.

“Dean Thomas asked me to the ball.” You bit your lip in excitement and Hermione beamed. “Congratulations! I knew you’d find a date in no time.” Hermione grinned.

From a distance, Harry could hear every word. His heart sank into his stomach. You were plan A, of course, but plan B ended up unfolding before he could stop himself. Now you weren’t a plan at all.

Suddenly, Ron tripped through the portrait hole, staggered across the room, and collapsed into a chair. He looked shell-shocked. Ginny, who’d accompanied him, fought hard to suppress a smile.

“What happened to you?” Harry asked curiously.

“He’s just asked out Fleur Delacour.” Ginny answered quickly.

“What?!”

“What’s she say?” Harry added before Hermione’s shock could be voiced further.

“No, of course.” Hermione guessed. But, in a pleat of doubt, “She did say no…?”

Ron shook his head.

“She said yes?!”

“Of course not! I don’t know what got into me. There she was… walking by… you know how I like it when they walk… and I couldn’t help it… it just sort of… slipped out.”

“Actually, he sort of screamed at her. It was a bit frightening.” Ginny grimaced.

“So what’d you do then?” Harry pushed.

“What else? I ran for it. I’m not cut out for this, Harry.” Ron groaned tiredly.

As they were all conversing, the Patil twins strode by, arm in arm with each other. They each glance at each other and in unison, “Hi Harry.” and they were gone as quickly as they had appeared.

Harry murmurs a half-hearted greeting before doing a double take in the direction they’d strode off in.

“Don’t worry. I think I’ve got an idea…”

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“Hello, boys.” The Patil twins greeted in unison.

Parvati and Padma, doubly delightful in shocking pink and bright turquoise respectively, waited below for their dates.

“Don’t you look… dashing.” Parvati’s eyes raked over Ron’s robes as she took Harry’s arm. Padma stared in open horror. Just then, McGonagall appeared, looking a bit flustered.

“There you are, Potter!” McGonagall called as she urgently made her way through the crowd to Harry and Ron.

“You and Miss Patil will wait here and enter with the other champions. Weasley…” she faltered, goggling at Ron’s robes, then collected herself.

“… you and Miss Patil may proceed inside, to the Great Hall.” she ushered them to the entrance.

“C'mon then.” As Ron dragged Padma off, she looked back desperately to her sister. Parvati just shook her head.

“We have a cousin who dresses like that.”

Just then, a gust of win stirred in the air and the Durmstrang and Beauxbaton students filed inside. As Fleur Delacour appeared, her silk wrap flew free, fluttering like a dove into the air, leading Harry’s eye to… Cho, who arrived hand in hand with Cedric Diggory.

“Omigod. She looks… Beautiful.” Parvati mumbled in disbelief.

Harry nodded glumly, staring at Cho, then realized Parvati was looking not at Cho, but a girl in blue robes.

Her hair was twisted in an elegant but messy knot with glittering butterfly barrettes littered amongst her locks to enhance the mystical facade, swan’s neck shining. She was simply ethereal. She was…

You.

“I know I’m late! Couldn’t figure out the button on the back of my dress.” You turned to demonstrate the intricate backing of your dress.

Harry remained speechless as you turned back around to face him with a wide smile. “You look handsome, my friend.” You slightly played with the collar of his dress robe, but Harry still didn’t utter a word.

“Close your mouth, Harry. We’re not a codfish.” You quoted one of your favorite Disney movies.

When he still didn’t reply, your teasing smile faltered for a worried expression. “Seriously, Harry. What’s wrong? Is my makeup smudged?” you patted your face to ensure that nothing was wrong.

“Oh! Nothing’s wrong… you just look…” Harry was quite unable to finish his sentence and you frowned.

“Is it that bad?” You looked down at your dress with your heart thumping in your chest.

“No, not at all. Quite the opposite actually… you’re stunning.” Harry’s eyes scanned you up and down. The smile returned to your features.

“Thank you… Hermione helped, of course.” You giggled bashfully.

“Well… erm, Dean is.. waiting for me so… I better go. I’m sure you’ll be expected to dance first.” You chewed the inside of your cheek anxiously, and Harry nodded.

“Right, yeah, you go. Have fun. I’ll see you later.” Harry’s arm was taken by Parvati. You nodded as well.

“See you.” You turned to disappear into the crowd to find your date. Harry watched you go longingly. Parvati smiled to herself, but said nothing nonetheless.

A path of light spilled from the Entrance Hall, revealing a darkened hall glimmering with icicles and mistletoe. The house tables had vanished, replaced by dozens of smaller ones, each glowing with lantern light around a central dance floor. Flitwick conducted a string quartet.

As the champions entered, applause arose. Fleur led the way, on the arms of a stunned-looking Ravenclaw boy (Roger Davies), while Harry and Parvati entered last, Parvati waving like a beauty queen. Harry scanned the room for Ron and found him, staring open-mouthed at Hermione as she passed with Krum.

“Is that Hermione Granger? With Viktor Krum?” Padma Patil was in shock.

“No. Absolutely not.” Ron denied with the curt shake of his head.

As the champions reached the dance floor, Flitwick’s baton froze in mid-air- bringing the hall to a hush.

“Take my waist.” Parvati urged forcefully when Harry didn’t move.

“Huh? Oh… right.” Harry places his hand on her waist and took her hand when Flitwick’s baton dropped and the waltz began.

“Go. Now!”

More out of fear than anything else, Harry took a step and then another. The music swelled. Fleur swept past, rigid as a queen. Next was Cho, dark eyes glimmering as they briefly met Harry’s own. Finally, Hermione- adrift in Krum’s strong arms- shot Harry a goofy, excited grin.

Dumbledore led McGonagall from the Tall Table and, with a short bow, swept her onto the floor, where they danced formally, beautifully. Quickly, the remainder of the staff paired off and joined them. Even Madame Maxime yielded to Hagrid and his horrible suit, though she casted her eyes askance while in his arms. Only Moody remained on the sidelines, eye whirling madly in time to the waltz.

Finally, the students converged, led by Neville, who glided like Astaire, much to the astonishment of his date- Ginny Weasley. Lost in the crush, Harry felt less self-conscious about his own clumsy feet and actually managed to smile.

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Later in the evening, a jagged razor burn of guitars, courtesy of the Weird Sisters, shattered the calm as the dance floor was now a mosh pit, hopping with bodies.

Fred’s hand reached up and snapped off one of the icicles and slipped it down the back of Angelina’s robes and she squealed, darting after him, passing Hermione and Krum. Hermione yelled above the din.

“Her-my-oh-nee!”

“Herm… own… ninny?”

She started to correct him, then shrugged. “Close enough.”

Harry and Ron sat watching grimly from the sidelines, while Padma and Parvati sat on opposite sides of them, arms crossed in aggravation. Ron eyed Krum lethally.

“Ruddy pumpkinhead, isn’t he?” he grumbled.

Harry’s eyes shifted from yours and Dean’s gyrating figures.

“Well, I don’t think it was the books that had him going to the library.”

A handsome Durmstrang boy approached Parvati, who looked ready to put a gun to her head.

“May I haff your arm?”

“Arm. Leg. I’m yours.” Parvati exited eagerly, following the boy at his heels.

Harry watched as Hermione pulled you from the crowd and your date, both with beautiful smiles as you approached the boys. Hermione dropped into Parvati’s vacant chair, flush from dancing. You stood awfully close to Harry, causing him to tense.

“Whew! Hot, isn’t it? Viktor and Dean have gone to get drinks. Care to join us?” Hermione asked cheerfully.

“No, we would not care to join you and… Viktor.” Ron spat his name like venom, and Hermione’s smile disappeared along with your own.

“What’s got your wand in a knot?” Hermione seemed offended.

“He’s from Durmstrang! You’re fraternizing with the enemy!” Ron accused loudly. You scoffed.

“The enemy? Who was it wanting his autograph? Besides, the whole point of the Tournament is international magical cooperation. To make friends.” Hermione clarified angrily.

“I think he’s got a bit more than friendship in mind.” Ron grumbled to himself. Your mouth dropped open.

“What are you suggesting?” your voice had dropped an octave, indicating your aggravation.

Harry spun around to face you, and instead of voicing his jealousy, voiced his frustration.

“It’s obvious, isn’t it? With Dean as well. You’re friends with Margaret Stone, aren’t you? That’s who Dean’s really after. Heard him talking about it the other day.” Harry huffed and sat back in his seat with crossed arms.

It wasn’t a total lie; Harry had heard Dean talking about Margaret Stone, but it wasn’t the other day. It was about a year ago.

You stood taken aback by Harry’s words. Not once had you heard him speak in this tone of voice, especially to you.

“W-… what do you mean?” You could feel your voice wavering as Hermione looked up at you.

“Y/N. He doesn’t mean it.” She urged. Harry stood.

“Well, of course I meant it! You’re easy enough to go out with and get closer to Stone without a second glance from anyone. Thought you were smarter than that. Aren’t you supposed to be like Hermione?” Harry’s arms remained crossed as he glared at you with fury.

But he quickly regretted his words when he watched as your eyes welled up with tears, threatening to spill over as you bit your bottom lip to keep from quivering.

“Y/N?”

You turned to see Dean with two drinks in hand, looking confused between you and Harry. “What’s going on?”

You choked on a sob that threatened to rip through your throat and dashed off, brushing past Dean on your way. Hermione glared at both Ron and Harry before jumping up to chase after you. “Y/N! That’s not true!” She called after you.

Dean spared Harry and confused glance before turning off in the same direction to follow you.

“Are you going to ask me to dance or not?” Padma asked Ron as she sulked.

“No.”

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As Ron and Harry exited, after the fiasco with Hermione, Ron broke off by himself in a rage. Harry found himself alone, Parvati no where to be found, not that he cared at all where she was.

He rounded the corner out of the Great Hall and found you, leaning against a wall and dabbing under your eyes so as to keep your tears from ruining your makeup.

The two of you make eye contact and you froze.

“Y/N-”

“No, don’t touch me.” you jerked away from his grip like you’d been burnt with a ragged breath, avoiding eye contact with him.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I really am. I didn’t mean it like that…” Harry began slowly, gauging your reaction.

“Harry, you humiliated me in front of Ron and his date, your date, and Hermione, and might as well have embarrassed me in front of Dean.” You moved to cover your face with your hand to hide your expression.

Though Harry knows what he’d done, the thought still made his heart wrench. He’d made you cry, and he never wanted to be the cause of that, not now, not ever.

“That’s… not what I meant to do.” Harry sighed in spite of himself.

You looked away from dabbing under your eyes and up at Harry, watching as his face filled with genuine concern.

“What did you mean, then?” you sniffled, averting your eyes to the ground as you gripped your heels in your hand.

Harry was taken aback at your question. You were giving him a chance to explain himself. He wasn’t daft enough to waste this opportunity.

“I was just frustrated, and I wanted to look out for you… I didn’t want you to get hurt.” Harry’s shoulders slouched as he began to explain himself. You slowly gained the courage to glance up at him as he spoke.

You exhaled deeply, “Dean was overrated, anyway…” you sniffled again, a small smile spreading across your face.

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed with confusion. You sighed exaggeratedly and threw yourself at Harry and wrapped your arms around his neck, your cheek pressed against his shoulder.

Harry grunted and stumbled back from the impact, his arms wrapping themselves around your form. He let out a breath he didn’t know had been stuck in his throat at your action, but smiled nonetheless.

“This whole night has been a disaster. Take me home, Harry.” you buried your face into his robe as you let your eyes relax and your tired brain rest.

“Oh, um, okay…” Harry gave a brief stroke to your slightly more messy, but still gracefully decorated hair.

“But you’ve gotta help me out, here.” Harry chuckled as he attempted to lift you. You groaned and secured your arms more tightly around his neck and jumped, allowing Harry’s arm to fold under your legs and hoist you up, bridal style.

He managed to bring you the rest of the way to the common room, but you somehow managed to fall asleep on the journey. Harry chuckled to himself when he noticed you’d gone limp and your jaw had fallen slack.

Through that disaster of a night, Harry learned that all friends fight, but the ones who stayed true were the ones that persisted.

He only hoped that his friendship with you would be a result of persistence.

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Fifth Year

Harry quietly dismissed the weekly gathering of Dumbledore’s Army for the Christmas holiday. The progress they’d made was impeccable, incredible, and some might dare say, unfathomable.

Though, the tragic death of Cedric Diggory in the past year at Hogwarts had taken a tole on every student, especially one student in particular; Cho Chang.

She remained in the classroom, staring longingly at a cut-out clipping of Cedric’s portrait when he’d participated in the Triwizard Tournament that was taped to a musty mirror.

Harry approached her from behind, cautious so as to not startle her.

“Are you alright?” He asked carefully, keeping his voice as level as he could.

“I heard Umbridge gave you a rough time the other day.” He continued when he knew he had her attention.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” Cho glanced down at her scaring hand, matching many other trouble makers in the school.

“Anyways, it was worth it.” Her gaze returned to Cedric’s, the moving picture smiled back at them as if it knew they were watching it.

“It’s just… it’s just, learning all this… makes me wonder, whether he’d known it.” Cho observed the room carefully with a longing expression. Harry was quick to assure her.

“Cedric- Cedric did know this stuff. He was really good. It’s just… Voldemort was better.” Harry decided on.

Cho cast her eyes down to the floor, then back up at Harry. “You’re a really good teacher, Harry.” In response, Harry smiled shortly.

“I’ve never been able to stun anything before.” Cho grinned cheekily

A faint rustling came from above the two, causing Cho to look up curiously. What she spotted was mistletoe, curiously growing from the ceiling above them with haste.

“Mistletoe.” Cho whispered quietly. Harry was still fascinated by the plant’s growth above them.

His eyes returned to Cho’s face, but couldn’t think of anything worth saying. “Probably full of Nargles, though.” He blurted.

“What are Nargles?” Cho asked with confusion. Harry shrugged.

“No idea.” They wasted no more time and brought themselves together to seal the silence in a tender kiss. Harry’s first, it happened to be.

“Sorry to barge in, but I forgot my-”

You stopped dead in your tracks when you found the couple snogging in the middle of the practice room. You found yourself speechless as your heart shattered into thousands of pieces at the sight.

Harry and Cho separated immediately when they both acknowledged your presence. “Oh… Y/N.” Harry scratched the nape of his neck and avoided eye contact with you.

“Dear Merlin, I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” you were quick in putting up a facade of nonchalance as you frantically searched for the tie you’d recently shed when practicing spells with the group.

“It’s alright… no harm done.” Harry threw a worried glance in Cho’s direction as you find your tie.

“This was all I came for. Again, I apologize for the disturbance- I’ll be going now- Oh!” in your haste to back away, you’d knocked yourself into the wall near the entrance. You laughed nervously and rubbed the back of your head to soothe it.

“My bad, wasn’t looking where I was going. I’m leaving now.” You spun around on your heel and rounded the corner quickly, sprinting down the hallway and back to the common room as quickly as you could carry yourself.

As both Harry and Cho watched you disappear, Harry let out a long sigh. Cho turned to him. “Was that Y/N L/N?” she asked curiously. As Harry began to pack his things, he nodded.

“Yeah… it was.” Harry nodded towards the entrance as he stowed his wand away. Cho nodded grimly.

“She seemed upset.” Cho acknowledged as she watched Harry move about the room.

“Did she?” Harry questioned. Although, he had noticed your odd behavior but thought nothing of it.

“Yes, quite jealous, actually.” Cho hummed in thought.

Harry pondered that a moment. Jealous? You? Of him? Impossible.

“Yeah, right.” Harry scoffed. Though he didn’t mean anything by it, of course.

“I always thought you liked her.” Cho carefully worded her statement as she watched Harry’s back tense.

“I guess.” Harry shrugged shortly. His tone was becoming curt and short.

“Then… why are you here with me? Not going after her?” Cho gestures to the entrance to the classroom. Harry follows her gesture with his eyes and contemplated this a moment.

The next thing he knew, he’d thrown his bag over his shoulder and quickly departed with a “thank you” thrown in Cho’s direction as he hurried away.

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Sixth Year

Harry peered through ripples of an imperfect windowpane in the Weasley’s Burrow, studying the others down below. A floorboard creaked. He turned and watched you emerge into the light, in a robe, twisting your wet hair into a towel.

“Everyone gone to bed?” You asked nonchalantly as you approached Harry.

“Soon.” Harry nodded.

“I don’t sleep these days. So I wash my hair. Silly, right?” you giggled at yourself, folding the towel over your arm

Harry just stared at you, the air prickling with silence. You eyed him knowingly.

“Happy Christmas, Harry.” You grinned sweetly.

Down below, Lupin continued to peer into the reeds. His pupils contracted.

“Sweetheart…” Tonks approached him.

“There’s someone out there. I can smell him. There’s more than one-”

“Suddenly, throughout the reeds, torches blazed.

Back on the second floor, the rippled window behind Harry blushed with light. Your eyes shifted from Harry to the trees beyond.

"Oh my god…”

Harry turned, his breath fogging the windowpane as, far below, flames snuck out of the reeds and slithered toward the house. Bellatrix emerged, peering up through the darkness toward Harry’s silhouette, a mad grin on her face. As she shrieked eerily, his eyes flashed with hatred.

Harry burst through the front door, wand draw, and pelted toward Bellatrix. She grinned, turned, and vanished into the reeds.

“Harry, no!” Arthur Weasley called urgently as he disappeared into the reeds.

Flames raced up the porch steps and climbed the walls of the house. Lupin drew his wand and raced after Harry.

“Remus!” Tonks called.

Ron, Fred, and George appeared and joined Arthur as he dashed toward the smoking marsh. Arthur glanced back as you emerged.

“Y/N, stay with Molly!”

Without hesitation, you raced for the reeds.

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Harry careened through the marsh, reeds flashing past, then spied Bellatrix. She grinned, looking like a crazed wood nymph, then flitted off, her laughter mocking him. As he pursued, fire snaked through the reeds toward him.

Fred, George, Ron, and Arthur fanned out, running full-out, their feet kicking up sparks as shadows splintered throughout the reeds. It was like chasing ghosts.

You raced through the reeds, (h/c) hair gleaming.

Bellatrix lead Harry on, grinning madly.

You came dashing to a halt, chest heaving as you peered into the smoking marsh. A huge figure quivered through a veil of smoke. You eyes shifted, saw Bellatrix racing forward through the reeds, then shifted back as the veil of smoke evaporated and revealed… Greyback.

Bellatrix made an odd, clicking noise, like a signal, and Greyback edged forward, sweeping away reeds in front of him and revealing…

… Harry as he pelted forward.

“No, Harry! It’s a trap!”

Harry faltered, looking toward your voice and spied Greyback. Bellatrix stopped dead, wheeled in her tracks, and seeing you, shrieked with rage. Raising her wand, she fired a bolt of red light which exploded in a shower of sparks around you. You shrieked and ducked, but fired back and wheeled away, flashing through the reeds and coming face to face with-

Greyback, sharp teeth glittering.

“Don’t you smell clean.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you stared up at him in pure terror.

Just then, a bolt of blue burst off Greyback’s back and he turned, seeing Harry standing several yards off. As Greyback gave a chase, you pelted after, both of your breaths shortening until…

Greyback rushed into a clearing, panting, glancing about.

Just then, twin bolts of light blasted from opposite sides of the clearing and Greyback was lifted in the air and slammed to the ground. As he regained his feet, he looked into the reeds and saw you and Harry, wands poised. He grinned… when Bellatrix’s odd, clicking signal carried through the night once again. Turning away, he disappeared.

You and Harry slowly stepped out of the reeds and stared at each other wordlessly. You let out a whimper and threw yourself at Harry, wrapping your arms around his middle in relief. He immediately reciprocated, his arms flying to hold you steady and stroke through your hair. It oddly reminded you of your experience at the Yule Ball, your mind flashing back to when you threw yourself at Harry after hearing his side of the story. You breathed a shaky sigh into his chest and Harry rested his chin atop your head.

Then… Ron, Fred, George, Arthur, and Lupin came thrashing into the clearing and stopped. All around them, the reeds smoked, the flames dying. Across the marsh, Bellatrix’s cackle rose briefly on the air- then all was quiet.

“You’re lucky you two weren’t killed.”

Hermione. Who else?

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Present…

This all brings you to today.

How did you end up sitting in Xenophilius Lovegood’s home, reading a children’s tail about the Deathly Hallows in the middle of what was supposed to be your seventh year at Hogwarts? You’ll never know.

You’ve all just finished listening to Hermione read from the Tales of the Beedle Bard children’s book of wizarding fairytales.

Xenophilius Lovegood stares out out the window. The sun has nearly vanished over the lip of the hill.

“Well, there you are. Those are the Deathly Hallows.”

Harry glances around the room, still confused.

“Sorry… I still don’t really understand.” He shrugs.

Lovegood turns and, taking quill and parchment, draws a straight vertical line…

“The Elder Wand…”

… then adds a circle on top of the line…

“The Resurrection Stone.”

… then encloses both in a triangle.

“The Cloak of Invisibility. Together… they make the Deathly Hallows. Together… they make one master of Death.”

The four of you stare at the symbol in disbelief.

“Mr. Lovegood, does the Peverell family have anything to do with the Deathly Hallows?” You asked curiously. You noticed Ron, Harry, and Hermione staring at you in curiosity.

“That was the name of the grave with the mark on it in Godric’s Hollow. Ignotus Peverell.” You clarified with detail.

“Ignotus and his brothers Cadmus and Antioch are thought to be the original owners of the Hallows and therefore the inspiration for the story.” Lovegood’s focus abruptly wavered, sadness in his eyes, then blinks, eyeing the tea kettle.

“Ah, but your tea’s grown cold. Excuse me, I’ll be right back.” Lovegood heads downstairs with the tea kettle in hand.

As Lovegood exits, Ron speaks. “Let’s get out of here once he’s back. I’m not touching this stuff, hot or cold.” Ron grimaced at his cup of half-empty tea. You nodded in agreement.

“Which one would you choose if you could? Of the Deathly Hallows?” Harry asks the group, lost in thought.

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Hermione glances around.

All four of your speak at once:

“The Wand.”

“The Cloak.”

“The Cloak.”

“The Stone.”

You all glance at each other, amused. You and Hermione share a look, knowingly. You’d each picked the cloak for a reason.

“You’re supposed to say the Cloak, but who wants to spend all day being invisible? Dead boring if you ask me. But an unbeatable wand!” Ron grinned.

“Its owner grew drunk with power and was murdered.” Hermione raises an eyebrow at Ron accusingly.

“Yeah, but imagine what a short wicked life you’d lead.” Ron counters.

Hermione rolls her eyes. “Why the Stone, Harry?” she directs her question to Harry now.

“Well, you could bring people back, couldn’t you? Mad-Eye. Dumbledore. Sirius. Anybody.” Harry shrugged.

“But according to the story, they don’t want to come back. It’s all rubbish, anyway. There’s no such thing as the Deathly Hallows.” Hermione’s counter is gentle.

“But I have one. The Invisibility Cloak my father left me.” Harry reminds quickly.

“There have always been Cloaks-”

“Not like Harry’s. I’ve seen a fair few. Dad used to bring home the ones the Ministry confiscated from petty thieves and the like. They always got holes or tears. Harry’s is different. It’s perfect.” Ron explains before Hermione can finish.

“And I think I’ve actually held the Resurrection Stone in my hands, that night in Dumbledore’s office when he showed me the ring he’d destroyed, the Horcrux. It had a symbol on it. Now I think it was the mark of the Hallows.

The four of you stand silently when Lovegood returns.

"Mr. Lovegood. Thank you, sir-”

“You forgot the water.” Ron points to the tea kettle.

“The water?” Lovegood inquires.

“For the tea.” Ron raises an eyebrow as if it were obvious.

“Did, didn’t I? How silly of me?” Lovegood breaks out into a nervous smile.

“No matter, sir. We really ought to be go-”

“No, you mustn’t!” Lovegood panics, his hands searching for any type of purchase on any surface he can find.

“Sir?” Harry questions.

“You’re my only hope. They were angry, you see, about what I’d been writing, so they took her. They took my Luna…” Lovegood’s eyes find Harry with malicious intent. “But it’s really you they want…”

“Who took her, sir?” You try gently.

Hermione eyes the print press. A copy of the Quibbler lies stuck under a roller. She reaches out and pulls it free, the ink streaking over the cover, over Harry’s face and the blazing headline: UNDESIRABLE NUMBER #1.

“Him. Surely you call him You-Know-Who. But his real name is of course… Voldemort.”

As if on cue, instantly, out the window, figures on broomsticks appeared in the sky, getting directly toward the house. As you, Harry, Ron, and Hermione hit the floor, ropes of light ricochet off the windowsill. The printing press explodes, raining Quibblers everywhere, like a flock of doves, smoking with flames. Lovegood waves madly from the window.

“Stop! I’ve got him-”

Lovegood is blasted off his feet by a stunning spell so great the chain around his neck flies across the room and settles at your feet. You glance down, watching the symbol of the Deathly Hallows dissolve like mercury, then looked up, seeing Lovegood streak out the door.

“Ron, Harry, Y/n! Take my hand!”

You, Harry, and Ron begin to crawl on your knees toward Hermione when another volley of spells ricochet about the room and- ping!- strike the Gurdyroot teapot. As Hermione watches, it flies into the air, tumbling end over end toward the Erumpent Horn. Harry’s hand closes on hers, then Ron’s, you reach out and…

… the teapot strikes the Erumpent Horn.

There is a colossal explosion. The second floor of the black cylinder ruptures. Quibblers belch into the air like confetti as Lovegood narrowly escapes and the Death Eaters are engulfed and you, Harry, Ron, and Hermione…

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“That treacherous old bleeder! Is there no one we can trust?!” Ron grumbles as he dusts himself off.

“They’ve kidnapped Luna because he supported Harry. He was just desperate.” You explain softly.

Ron says nothing, then spits, clearing the grit from his teeth and peers toward the river. Unlike the raging force it was the last time you were here, it is a little more than a trickle now. The trees are eerily quiet.

“I’ll do the enchantments.”

Ron takes out his wand… when you raise your hand, stopping him. You eyes rise. Your breath catches. Ron, Harry, and Hermione look. Clinging to the branches of the trees above, almost as if part of the trees themselves, are…

Snatchers.

A wand blooms above and illuminates the face of Scabior. Your red scarf, now faded and filthy, dangles from his neck. He presses it to his grimy nose, inhales, and grins.

“Hello, beautiful.”

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You flicker through the trees, swift as the wind, as Scabior pursues you.

Harry slashes through the river, looks up, and sees a Snatcher leap across the divide from one tree to another.

Ron pounds through thick brush, over a fallen tree.

Hermione expertly avoids sticks and stones covering the forest floor, her focus unwavering.

The forest grows more dense, the shadows thicken. Spells splinter through the trees, ropes of light lace the night.

Hermione stumbles, but regains her footing and finds herself in a clearing. You come along not long after, glancing at her with panic. Another figure pelts towards the two of you: Harry.

You all freeze briefly, then the clearing explodes with light as spells ricochet. They hit the ground. You hear the snatchers closing in.

You look to Harry. The tip of your wand glows and your face blooms in the darkness, looking mildly demonic. You reach out, strip his glasses from his face, then point your wand… at him. A burst of white light strikes him in the eyes. As your wand goes dark…

… he is flying toward a fortress, gliding around the high walls, up to the topmost window of the highest tower. He passes through the window- little more than a slit- and…

…finds a skeletal figure lying beneath a ragged blanket. The figure stirs, looks up, and grins with broken teeth. It is the young man- the thief- grown old. Grindelwald.

“Ah, Tom, I thought you would come one day. But surely you must know I no longer have what you seek.”

A shadow- Voldemort’s- falls across Grindelwald.

“If not you, then who?”

“You’re so innocent, Tom. Like a schoolboy. There’s so much you don’t understand.”

“Tell me, Grindelwald. Tell me where to find it! Tell me who possesses it! The name, Grindelwald! The name!”

“Can’t you guess, Tom? It lies within him, of course. Buried within the earth. It is he who possesses it, even in death. Your old friend and mine… Dumbledore.”

Harry blinks and in a swollen blur, peers at you and whispers quickly.

“They exist. The Hallows.”

You and Hermione look at him expectantly. He nods, his face shrouded in shadow, barely visible.

“But he only wants the one, the last one. That’s what he’s been looking for.”

“What are you saying?”

“He knows where it is, You-Know-Who. He’ll have it by the end of the night. He’s found the Elder Wand.”

As you and Hermione stare in stunned disbelief, figures emerge from the trees. Ron is shoved to the ground next to them. Scabior strips you, Hermione, and Harry of your wands.

“Don’t touch her!” Harry exclaims urgently. A fist hits Harry hard. It’s Greyback.

“Stop it!” You gasp desperately.

“Your boyfriend’ll get worse than that if he doesn’t behave, lovely.” Scabior grins misshapenly.

Scabior paints your face with light then casts it on Harry. Harry peers up, his eyes swollen to slits, his face horribly misshapen.

“What happened to you, ugly?” Scabior grimaces.

Harry’s hand finds his face, feeling the lumps.

“What’s your name?”

“Dudley. Vernon Dudley.” Harry blurts quickly.

“Check the list. And you, ginger?”

“Stan Shunpike.” Ron grumbles.

“Like 'ell you are. We know skinny Stan. Try again.” Scabior scoffs.

Greyback, his boot to Ron’s neck, presses harder.

“Weasley… Barney Weasley.” Ron makes up the name on the spot.

“Weasley, eh? Wouldn’t be related to that blood traitor Arthur Weasley, would you?”

“Piss off! Arthur Weasley’s ten times the wizard you are!” Ron struggles.

“Worth ten times you if I can find him. Wasn’t you that tipped him off, was it?” Scabior growls. Ron stays mute. Scabior turns to Hermione.

“You?” He asks quickly.

“Penelope Clearwater. Half-blood.” Hermione struggles in the snatcher’s grip.

Scabior turns to you with a sickly sweet grin.

“How 'bout you, lovely? What do they call you…?”

You jerk away from his finger under your chin and glare.

“Lavender. Brown. Pure blood.” you whisper quietly.

Scabior strokes the nape of your neck, then takes your hair in hand, sniffing it. You groan at his proximity.

“You smell like vanilla, Lavender. I think you’re going to be my favorite.” He grins.

“There’s no Vernon Dudely on 'ere.” A snatcher waves a book in the air.

Reluctantly, Scabior turns from you to Harry.

“Hear that, ugly? The list says you’re lying. How come you don’t want us to know who you are? Hm?”

“The list is wrong. I told you who I am-”

Scabior puts a finger to his lips, silencing Harry, his wand probing Harry’s face more closely.

“Change of plans, boys. We won’t be taking this lot to the Ministry.”

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Scabior and the others escort you, Harry, Ron, and Hermione past the yew hedges of the Malfoy Manor. You eye the white peacock, looking like a ghostly lawn ornament. Harry whispers to you.

“What did you put on me?” He inquires.

“A Stinging Jinx.” You inform quietly.

“How long will it last?”

“Not long.”

Harry glances down and sees his glasses cupped in your palm. As he slips them into his pocket, the group suddenly slows. Up ahead, on the other side of the gate, Bellatrix, Lucius, and Narcissa approach. Scabior grabs Harry’s arm and pushes his face up to the iron bars.

Bellatrix steps close. “Show me.”

Scabior reaches out his dirty fingers and pushes Harry’s hair roughly off his forehead.

Bellatrix shines her wand. Despite the swelling, one intriguing feature can be seen: a scar, in the shape of a lightning bolt. Bellatrix studies it long and hard… then smiles.

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As Bellatrix leads the procession inside, she speaks to Narcissa.

“Get Draco.”

Narcissa eyes her sister briefly, warily, then strides off, toward the brightly-lit room ahead, where her husband Lucius stands, cradling a nearly-empty wine glass.

“Why Draco?” Lucius inquires. Narcissa passes her husband without a word.

“Just sit back and watch, Lucius. Hm? Pour yourself another glass of wine.” As she passes, she flicks her finger off the rim of his glass.

Bellatrix turns, eyeing you, Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

“Where’d you find them?” She begins.

“In the North Forest.” Scabior answers.

Wormtail quietly enters the room. As Harry eyes him, Bellatrix pauses, studying his scar again.

“Lovely scarf, Scabior. Though I’m not sure it’s your color.” Bellatrix teases.

“It’s not mine.”

“You don’t say.” Her eyes slide, catching him looking to you.

“Fancy her, do you, Scabior? Can’t say I blame you. Maybe we’ll work out a little reward for you, hm? That is, assuming all is as it appears. Ah, Draco. Come here, darling.”

From the shadows at the far end of the room, Draco separates from Narcissa and steps cautiously forward.

“My friends here say they’ve got Harry Potter. Seeing as he’s an old school chum of yours, I thought you could confirm the fact for us.”

Draco stares at Harry.

“Well…?” Bellatrix urges.

“I can’t… I can’t be sure.” Draco grimaces. Lucius steps forward, wine glass sloshing.

“Look close, Draco. If we’re the ones who hand Potter over to the Dark Lord, everything will be forgiven. Do you understand-”

“Now, we won’t be forgetting who actually caught him, I hope, Mr. Malfoy?” Scabior reminds, quietly menacing.

“Of course not.” Bellatrix’s eyes harden. “Narcissa. Tend to your husband.”

Lucius staggers back nervously next to his wife.

“Don’t be shy, sweetheart. Get up nice and close.” Bellatrix nudges Draco forward until he’s only inches from Harry.

“What’s wrong with his face?” Draco grimaces as he gets a closer look at Harry.

“Yes, what is wrong with his face, Scabior?” Bellatrix cranes her neck to look up at the snatchers.

“He came to us that way. I reckon he picked it up in the forest.” Scabior shrugged.

“Or ran into a Stinging Jinx.”

You feel your heart clench as you cast your eyes downward. Bellatrix notices your destress and her eyes flash, stepping up close to you.

“Was it you, dearie? Give me her wand. We’ll see what the last spell was.”

You’re alarmed as the Snatcher steps forward.

“What is that?” Bellatrix’s tone is quietly murderous. She pushes past Scabior and Greyback and steps before another Snatcher.

Your beaded purse dangles from one hand. In the other, he holds… the Sword of Gryffindor.

“It was in her bag when we searched her. Reckon it’s mine now.”

Bang! Quick as lightning, Bellatrix stuns the Snatcher and catches the sword as he drops. Scabior wheels.

“Are you mad?!” Bang! Bellatrix drops Scabior to his knees before his wand escapes his cloak. He bellows in fury.

“How dare you! Release me, woman!”

Bellatrix stares at him, eyes full of fire, then flicks her wand as he slumps forward, wincing.

“Go. GO!”

Scabior eyes her resentfully, then exits with Greyback an the others. Bellatrix turns.

“Wormtail. Put these three in the cellar. I want to have a little conversation with this one. Girl to girl.”

“No!” Hermione steps forward and covers your body with her own, staring Bellatrix down with confidence. Bellatrix merely smirks.

“Fine. Put the boys in the cellar, then. We’ll have a girl talk.”

As Wormtail jerks them away, Harry’s eyes flash with panic and meet yours. You mouth, “It’s okay.”

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Wormtail prods Harry and Ron down a steep flight of stairs and slams the door. Ron throws himself against it and turns to Harry.

“Harry! What’re we going to do? We can’t just leave them alone with her!”

“Ron…? Harry…?”

Harry peers into the small, shadow space below and senses movement.

“Luna…?” ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡

Bellatrix twirls a silver dagger in her fingers.

“This sword is meant to be in my vault at Gringotts. How did you get it?” Bellatrix pins you to the floor as Hermione lays motionless beside you, watching helplessly.

You draw in a shaky, sobbing breath as you try to regain your composure as you cry out. “I didn’t take it!” You exclaim desperately.

“Liar!” Bellatrix moves to your arm and slices open the skin in a rhythmic fashion, carving a word out of your skin. You let out a scream in agony and struggle in her grip, shrieking as your skin burns.

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Harry eyes Ollivander cautiously, when Bellatrix’s voice echoes through the vent.

“I’m going to ask you once again: what else did you and your friends take from my vault?!”

Harry’s heart nearly shatters when he hears your sobbing response.

“I told you! I don’t know what you’re talking-” you scream in pain. Harry slams his fist against the wall and turns.

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Hermione whimpers as she watches Bellatrix’s use of the Cruciatus curse on you for answers. You let our a piercing wail of anguish as she strikes you again.

“Stop it, please.” Hermione lets out a gentle sob and whisper as she watches you struggle to keep sane.

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Quickly, cautiously, Harry and Ron, now brandishing Wormtail’s wand, pad toward the main room as Dobby, the newest arrival, slips off in another direction. As Ron steps past the lifeless Snatcher without a glance, Harry hesitates and glances down.

Something flutters weakly in the Snatcher’s pocket. The tip of a golden wing. Harry crouches and looks; it’s the Snitch.

“Sss.”

Harry looks up and sees Ron gesturing for him. Quickly, he takes the Snitch and slips it into his pocket.

Harry joins Ron as the watch Bellatrix, who comes into view, towering over Griphook, who holds the sword, studying it. You lie at Bellatrix’s feet. Seeing you, Harry begins to lurch forward. Ron restrains him.

“Well?”

“I left Gringotts employ many weeks ago, but when I was last in your vault, the sword was there.”

Hermione studies the two and then watches as a strand of Bellatrix’s hair drifts free and, as if in a dream, floats through the air…

“Perhaps it just walked out on its own then.”

“There is no place safer than Gringotts, Madam Lestrange.”

… and catches on Hermione’s shirt.

“Liar! You can’t deceive me!” Bellatrix slashes the dagger across Griphook’s cheek and a deep gash opens. He barely flinches, the hint of a smile on his lips. Bellatrix looks mildly unnerved by his reaction.

“Consider yourself lucky, Goblin. The same won’t be said for this one.” Bellatrix poises the dagger over you and pushes your limp body with her pointed heel. You whimper at the contact to your sore body and flip over at her command.

“Like hell!”

Bellatrix wheeled, seeing Harry pelting forward.

“Expelliarmus!”

Bellatrix’s dangling wand shoots free and tumbles end over end, right into Harry’s hand.

“Stupefy!”

Lucius Malfoy drops instantly, his wine glass shattering in a burgundy bloom on the hearth. Narcissa and Draco draw their wands. Jets of light spray across the room.

Hermione had been snatched up by Ron at this point, but no one was able to get to you.

“Stop or she dies!”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione freeze and see you leaning limply against Bellatrix, the dagger at your throat.

“Drop your wands.” Bellatrix commands.

Harry stands rigidly, staring balefully at Bellatrix. She presses the dagger into your neck enough for a small cut.

“Ah!” you exclaim painfully.

“I said drop them!”

“All right!” Harry grunts angrily.

Ron flings away Wormtail’s wand, Harry drops Bellatrix’s.

“Pick them up, Draco. Now! Well, well, look what we have here. Harry Potter. All bright, shiny and new again. Just in time for the Dark Lord.”

Harry glances in the mirror opposite and sees that the stinging jinx is wearing off.

“Call him, Draco.”

Draco hesitates. But Lucius doesn’t, pulling up his sleeve and touching his finger to the Dark Mark on his forearm. Harry’s scar constricts and he grimaces in agony. Bellatrix cackles maniacally, her knife pressed against the tender flesh of your neck. A bead of blood bubbles on the blade and then… and grinding noise in heard. Harry glances up and sees the chandelier begin to tremble. As the tinkle of glass fills the room, Bellatrix stares directly upward, watching as…

… the chandelier bursts free of the ceiling and plummets. Bellatrix bolts and you stagger clear, falling into Harry’s arms. His arms immediately reciprocate and you fall into that familiar memory once again. Your body is sore and limp, but there’s no where you would rather be than in his arms at this moment.

Griphook grabs the sword as glass explodes in razor-sharp slivers, Draco screams and covers his bloody face. Harry wrests the blood-soaked wands from his hands after transferring you to Ron and Hermione and, wheeling, points all three at Lucius.

“Stupefy!”

Lucius flies off his feet and drops in a heap.

“You dirty little monkey! You could have killed me!”

Harry turns and sees Bellatrix raging at Dobby. The elf stands fearlessly across from her, defiant.

“Dobby never meant to kill. Dobby only meant to maim… or seriously injure.

"For God’s sake, Cissy, you’ve got a wand! Use it!”

Narcissa hesitates. Crack!- Dobby waves his little fist and Narcissa’s wand flies from her hand.

“How dare you take a witch’s wand! How dare you defy your masters!”

“Dobby has no master! Dobby is a free elf, and Dobby has come to save Harry Potter and his friends!”

Harry tosses Ron and wand, grabs your beaded bag, and joins the others in the center of the room.

“Give the Dark Lord our regards.” You call out weakly with a cheeky smile.

Harry almost smiles back at you. You always have to have the last word.

His hand closes on Dobby’s and the drawing room begins to spin. Bellatrix’s face twists into an ugly blur. Her arm rises, dagger in hand. There is a flash of silver. Then all goes black for a long time.

Then…

… with a great WHOOSH, Harry and the others tumble onto solid earth and hear the crash of waves.

As Harry staggers to his feet as the stars whirl above him. He sees he is on a cliff overlooking a dark sea.

Ron holds Hermione gently. Tears sting her eyes.

You feel a sharp pain in your stomach and your breath hitches.

You can already begin to feel life leaving your body as you become numb to the pain.

“It’s all right, Hermione. You’re safe. We’re all safe.” Harry begins to assure as he searches for you.

She doesn’t respond, nor Ron. Then Harry realizes they are looking past him, even Dobby and Griphook, the sword hanging limply in his hand.

Harry turns.

You stand alone, a queer smile on your face, hand resting just below your chest, the hilt of Bellatrix’s dagger protruding between your fingers.

Hermione opens her mouth and lets out a blood-curdling scream at the sight of you. She covers her mouth with one hand and tears spill from her eyes as Ron holds her tightly.

“Y/N… no…”

As Harry rushes to you, you crumple in his arms, your eyes rolling up to the stars.

“It’s okay… here… just hold on, Y/N. I’ll fix you- Hermione- her bag- Essence of Dittany- something… Hermione! Help me!”

Harry is desperate now as he watches you become more and more lifeless in his arms. He can’t watch you go now, not like this. Not when they are so incredibly close.

Hermione merely stands, tears streaking her cheeks.

“Don’t worry about me, Harry.” You manage. Harry’s face contorts in a sob.

“No, but I have to worry about you! You’re dying! Please… help.” Harry searches frantically for anything.

“I would say something witty… but my mind is blank.” you manage a chuckle as you reach up to grip Harry’s arm. Harry yanks your hand and brings it up to his cheek and nuzzles himself against your palm with closed eyes.

“Hey, look at me.” You stroke his cheek the best you can manage. Harry opens his eyes and stares down into your paling eyes, his own flooding with tears.

“You’re gonna be alright, I promise.” you whisper gently.

“I never meant for you to get caught up in all of this. I promise.” Harry draws in a shaky breath and squints his eyes shut.

It has to be a dream, he’s going to wake up any moment to you shaking him awake in the tent and telling him it was just another one of his nightmares.

But when he opens his eyes, you’re still lying limp in his arms, the dagger in your body and the life leaving your eyes.

“I wanted to, Harry. It was all worth it. For you.” Your smile is sad as you watch the emotional pain that wrenches his heart.

“Please don’t leave me… I’m in love with you…” Harry sobs desperately.

You can’t tell if it’s the dagger in your chest, or if your heart palpitates from his words. That was all you ever wanted to hear. Those words from him and him alone.

“I’m in love with you too, you twat.” you giggle. Harry’s frown twitches into a sad smile for only a moment, before he regains his awareness of the weight of the situation.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” he sniffles pathetically.

“Me too.” Your hand on his cheek begins to grow numb and limp, if it weren’t for Harry gripping it to his face.

You use your last burst of strength and wind your hand around his neck and tug him down to your level, pressing your lips to his in your first and final kiss. Harry wastes no time and reciprocates, only separating from you when he needs air to breathe, but keeps the proximity between your faces.

“Take care of them for me, yeah?” You whisper as your eyes become hooded.

“W-what? No! Y/N, please! We’re going to fix you, I promise, I’ll-”

But he stops himself when he notices that your eyes have fluttered shut and your hand falls limp around his neck. He’s close enough to your face to feel your breathing has stopped and your body has gone mostly cold.

“I’m so sorry.” Harry cradles your head against his neck and lets out heart-wrenching sobs unabashedly.

Hermione hides her face in Ron’s neck as she cries, and Ron sheds tears as he watches his best friend cradle your limp body.

They never thought it would come to this.

[amaelya]

GUIDE AL LYSANDER EPISODE 5

I posted the french version too

Hello! Here is the solution of the dialogues! You also have the french version ❤️

2 possible illustrations : one with Lysander and one with Castiel and Lysbaby (NSFW)

1° Castiel: It's unbelievable. We'll never change you, will we...

A. Yes, one day he'll forget his head! B. It's not for lack of trying... C. Why would we want to change him? It's perfect! (+5 with Lysander)

2° Castiel: So, I didn't even kiss you!

A. Don't worry, it's not necessary. B. Well, what are you waiting for then? C. What do you mean? Don't I get a hug, too? (+5)

3° Castiel: Even if in your case, Sucrette, you don't really have the choice to refuse I think...

A. It's not like I can kick you out now that you're here... (-5) B. Don't worry, I wouldn't have refused even if I had the choice (+0) C. You're kidding! You can stay as long as you want (+5)

4° Candy : (I hadn't done much work... I was busy looking at it while daydreaming...)

A. (One thought led to another, my gaze slipped to Lysander) (POSSIBLE ILLUSTRATION WITH LYSANDER) B. (I wonder how Castiel is doing...) C. (But this time there are two of them... Twice as many reasons to let my gaze wander (+5 with Castiel) (POSSIBLE ILLUSTRATION WITH LYSANDRE AND CASTIEL)

5° Castiel: If ever it doesn't start again with Crowstorm...

A. I'm sure Lysander would be happy to have you on the farm! He has plans for the future... (+0) B. You want to talk about it again? (+5 with Castiel) C. It would be Coll if it didn't start again! (-5)

6° Castiel: To see if you like it, if you want to do things together again...

A. It doesn't commit you to anything, Lysander: it could be fun to try... (+5 with Castiel and Lysander) B. I could do it! C. Don't you think it would be easier to find someone who is already motivated?

7° Castiel: So this is the perfect opportunity for both of us to get back on stage!

A.  Maybe you should have started there...? (+0) B. It's true that it's the ideal occasion... (+5 with Castiel) C. But you tried to con him by taking him by the feelings, there? (-5)

Before you go to the Salon to help Lysander and Castiel prepare a song for the concert, go to the Meadows! Auntie will give you a cute straw man! 🍁

8° Castiel: It's a bit...weird? To put the name of the band in a song? A. I don't think so. At least it's consistent (+5 with Lysander) B. Personally, I think it's a bit weird too, yes (-5 with Lysander) C. It's happened before... Not often, but it has happened (-5 with Castel)

9° Candy : Wait, I might have something...

A. I hope Zack dies...So does Leo (I laughed so hard at the one 😂 SAVAGE) B. I broke my ties...From a storm of crown C. I heard the lies...But I kept my oath (+5 with Castiel and Lysander)

10° Candy : (The atmosphere is completely crazy, the crowd is unleashed)

A. (I can't take my eyes off Castiel.) B. (My gaze keeps going from Lysander to Castiel) (POSSIBLE ILLUSTRATION WITH CASTIEL AND LYSANDER) C. (I am unable to take my eyes off Lysander) (POSSIBLE ILLUSTRATION WITH LYSANDER)

11° Castiel: In the end, I am very happy, when I see you both.

A. (There was a silence. Maybe I should go out) (ILLU NSFW) B. (Well, I've heard enough.) (ILLU LYSANDER)

11.1° If answer A to 11: A. (Even though there is no way anything will happen with Castiel, obviously) B. (I wouldn't mind a rapprochement against a...rapprochement. If Lysander is tempted...) (ILLU NSFW)

11.2° If B to 11.1   A. (The impression that it is the ideal moment to try something new; a new experience) (ILLU NSFW) B. (But it makes me a little uncomfortable too, it's better to go to sleep soon)

11.3. A. (And he doesn't like the idea, better to go back) B. (And he likes the idea, and that turns me on even more) (ILLU NSFW 👀)

Lysander: I remember it like it was yesterday... Do you remember what I said to you then?

A. Did you say something particularly memorable to me? B. You said you were delighted to meet me (ILLUSTRATION LYSBABY PROPOSAL) C. You told me you weren't a ghost.

If I made any mistakes or if you have any solutions, don't hesitate to leave me a message!

Don't hesitate to like and share! Thanks ❤️❤️

[heartlandians]

Filling Empty Spaces (Amy/Mitch), part 217

Mitch and Amy find an unexpected connection due to absent lovers. Set around season 11->.

A/N: I didn’t have a beta for this story, so hopefully there won’t be too many grammar errors.

* * * *

"Knock, knock!" Cassandra chimed when she stepped closer to the barn office doorway, looking for Amy.

She was dropping in somewhat unannounced, but thankfully, after being informed by Casey, who had been playing with Lyndy and Remi outside, Cassandra knew her friend was working on something inside the barn and that's where she would find her.

Amy glanced over her shoulder, from beside the side table, pausing what she was doing and holding a finger on an open journal where she had her mother's written notes about herbs that could benefit mares during their pregnancy on display.

"Oh, hey. Come in", she welcomed Cassandra.

The vet shook the paper bag she had brought with her.

"I was heading to another client this way and thought I'd bring you the supplements you asked. Killing two birds with one stone-- although I don't know if me using that phrase is in bad taste", she added, jokingly.

"Oh, why, thank you; that was kind of of you. You can put them on the office table", Amy instructed, finishing the sentence on the page and then checking her shelf to see if she already had that herb in question or if she should get some from the garden. "How you've been?" she then asked, absentmindedly.

"Good, good", Cassandra shared, walking over the table, finding more notebooks spread across the table with written notes and carefully illustrated drawings. "And you?" "Good too", Amy lied, not wanting to get too much into the drama she had been dealing with.

Thankfully, Cassandra was so captivated by the journals, that she didn't even have time to be suspicious about Amy's reply.

"Oh my gosh, I just love these. Are these by your mom?"

Amy looked over her shoulder again, noticing how Cassandra was looking at her mom's journals.

"Yeah. I don't have a lot of experience with pregnant mares, but I recalled mom had some notes about things she learned from Mrs. Bell back in the day, so I figured I might as well look them up. I know I have Lisa to help, but... I like hearing what mom had to say too."

Cassandra put the paper bag aside and picked one of the journals up upon a closer inspection. Her fingertips ran across the page, tracing the delicate penmanship.

"What a beautiful handwriting she had. And these drawings!" she sighed. "She must have been talented in so many ways."

Amy smiled, writing down on the sticky-note the name of the herb she would need for later. "She was. It's just sad that I never got to fully appreciate all the talents she possessed."

"Yeah, I bet..." Cassandra said, flipping one page forward, but fearing she would mess up Amy's system, she prepared to place the journal back on the table. That was until she noticed something underneath the books.

Amy's notes of her own.

But they were not about herbs, pregnant mares or in fact about horses, at all.

"I know this might come as a shock to you, but I have something to tell you..." Cassandra read out loud, wondering what this was about.

As soon as Amy's ears picked up the familiar sounding sentence, she turned around quickly and glared at Cassandra, feeling the blood escaping her face.

"That's private!" she insisted, walking toward her and covering the writing pad with a journal.

Amy directed her eyes firmly on Cassandra, pressing her lips together and inhaling somewhat nervously through her nose.

"What was that...?" Cassandra asked curiously, not shaken by her friend's reaction. "That was your handwriting, wasn't it?"

Amy finally exhaled, the shame flushing over her temples like a flame.

"Yeah. I... I've been trying to think what to say to Lou", she finally confessed, "when I'm going to call her. I feel like if I just call her without planning ahead, I'll freeze and choke."

Cassandra frowned. "Why?"

Amy leaned on the right, making sure she didn't see anyone on the other side of the barn as the paranoia took a hold of her. Georgie was the only family member who knew, but she wasn't ready to tell anyone else yet, not before she had shared the news with her sister first.

"I'm going to tell her about me and Mitch..." Amy finally whispered.

Cassandra's face lit up.

"Ooh! Oh, wow..." She was marveling how that would even go. "When's that going to happen?"

"As soon as I can finish my speech. Which is probably in 2030..." Amy muttered, mad at herself. "I'm not good with words", she sighed.

"Well, I doubt Lou is even expecting some valedictorian speech", Cassandra tried to cheer up her friend. "Just... keep it simple and don't overthink it", she shrugged.

"Yeah, I know", Amy admitted, nodding. "But I just... I'm scared."

"Of her hating you?" Cassandra guessed.

"Yes. And... how my new life is going to cost my old life. Like, there's part of me, a big part, that's ready to move forward - excited even - but it's still bittersweet", Amy shared. "Things will not be the same."

"Probably not", her friend agreed, "but don't you think you owe it to yourself? If the direction you're headed makes you happy, then own it. Remember what I said about Caleb? And now look at us."

Amy sat down on the squeaky office chair she had shared with the other members of her family before her, feeling defeated.

"I know..."

She looked around, thinking all the times she had sat here, feeling anxious, yet comforted by this space. How many big life changes had she mulled over here?

Too many to count, probably.

"I know I can't just hold it off much longer. I just need to do it, get it over with", she murmured.

"Exactly", Cassandra agreed. "Do you want me to stick around...?"

"No. It's fine. I appreciate it, though", Amy said. "But... maybe we can talk later? I think I might need a friend then."

"If you need it, give me a call", Cassandra requested, giving Amy's shoulder a squeeze. "As long as I don't have my hand inside an animal, I'll answer."

It made Amy laugh. "Thanks, Cass."

"I'll talk to you later", Cassandra promised, heading out of the door.

Amy looked after her.

"Bye", she said before Cassandra walked out of the barn and she could hear her starting the engine of her vet truck.

While Cassandra was heading to her next client, Amy's eyes roamed on the pages of her mom's journals.

Maybe what she had said about wanting to have Marion's take had not been completely true. Wanting to drown herself into this task in order to avoid the inevitable was probably more closer to the truth, but it was slowly starting to cost her her sanity, so she was no longer willing to keep stressing about it.

She peeled the journals on the side and looked at the words she had scribbled on the notepad. Going over the words over and over again, Amy realized reading from a paper would not sound authentic at all, and she wanted to be that for Lou, so she tore off the page, crumbled it into a ball and tossed it in the bin.

Exhaling out another sigh, Amy fished out her cell phone next to her pencils and went through her contacts till she got to Lou.

"Here we go", she said to herself under her breath and pressed the green phone icon, beginning the call to her sister.

The dialing sound felt somehow heavier than she remembered it usually being, but then it got almost inaudible, almost as if the sound of her own heartbeat would have become louder.

Amy's eyes darted around, trying to find something to focus on so she could latch herself onto something real besides imagining Lou in New York City, picking up her phone while doing whatever she was doing.

Amy wasn't sure how long Lou had been calling her name on the other end before she returned back to it.

"Amy...? Can you hear me...? Or is this your pocket calling?" Lou's familiar snarky tone said through the line.

"No", Amy finally blurted out when she tuned back in. "I can hear you. It's actually me calling. Hi. Sorry, I was... distracted."

"It's okay. How are you?" Lou asked, her voice a little more softer now that she knew she was talking to an actual person. "Have to say I was surprised to see your name on the screen when my phone rang."

"Yeah, I know we haven't really... kept in touch", Amy said, knowing it had probably been a choice for both of them instead of any other excuse they could come up with.

The rift between them made Amy remember the time from over a decade ago when Lou had returned to Hudson from New York after their mom had passed away.

Okay, maybe this is not that bad, but... things are definitely not as good as they were for years after that, Amy thought to herself.

"But I thought I'd give you a call, because... I have some news", she then continued, her voice a bit breathy.

There was a silence on the other end.

"Oh my god, is it Grandpa...?" Lou guessed. "Has he-- Is he-- Is he... okay?"

"Oh, no, it's--" Amy began to explain, but figured she'd cut it short so Lou would get the information she was after, "he's fine. Grandpa's fine."

"Dad? Is it dad, then?" Lou worried next. "See, this is why I hate being so far away and getting random calls all of a sudden. It always means something bad has happened--"

"No, Lou. Nothing bad has happened", Amy tried to calm her sister down, but then wondered if her news were actually on the level of Grandpa getting a heart attack or dad getting bad news after another MRI scan. "Everyone's fine. We're fine. Don't worry."

"Oh, good..." Lou sighed on the other end. Amy could almost see her sister placing her hand on top of her chest, calming herself down. "So... what is it?"

"It's about Venus. She had been acting strange, and Lisa suggested I'd have a vet come by and check her out, and turns out... she's pregnant", Amy shared the first part of her news.

"Pregnant?" Lou echoed, confused.

"Yeah. We think one of the wildies got close to her", Amy explained their theory.

"Oh..." Lou spoke. "Wow. Well, that is unexpected."

"Yeah, it definitely is", Amy agreed, not knowing what else to say.

"So, what do you need? Do you need me to cover the vet bills? I can send you the money, just let me know how much."

Amy was surprised by Lou's reaction.

In a way it was less dramatic than she had expected, but then again, the older Fleming sister wasn't as attached to horses as Amy was, so now that she thought about it in that context, maybe Lou's reaction actually did make sense, after all.

And in a way Amy was not surprised by it, seeing as her sister was very business-oriented and was - of course - assuming that this call was about covering some vet bills because what else could she ever want from Lou other than financial support or advice, because no matter her personal success, Lou always thought Amy was useless with money simply because she was not motivated by it.

Or maybe - Amy realized - because she had been so nervous about Lou's reaction when it came to the Mitch thing, she had not really even thought about how her sister would react to the news about Venus.

Of course this made sense to Lou.

Why had she even expected anything else to begin with?

And why was she now making herself almost mad by not getting the reaction she would have deemed appropriate for the situation instead?

That was her doing - not Lou's.

Lou wasn't living at Heartland - horses weren't her every day interest - so it didn't really made any difference to her whether Venus was expecting or not. The horse was just a relic of her old life she had chosen to leave behind in order to live her dream in New York.

"No, it's not why I called. I just..." Amy stuttered, suddenly feeling a little silly for thinking Lou would care more, but then again what else was she going to do? Not tell Lou? "I just figured maybe you'd like to know. She's your horse after all."

"Well, yeah, but... Mitch basically just got her for the Dude Ranch, anyway, didn't he?" Lou commented so casually that dropping Mitch's name in the middle of the conversation this unexpectedly made Amy almost jump. "I'm happy to cover the bills, but when it comes to the other stuff, I trust your judgment. It's your expertise, after all. And you got Lisa, Scott and Cass there too, right? I don't know how else I could contribute to this - other than financially."

"Y-yeah", was all Amy let out, sounding more quiet, but thankfully Lou hardly even picked that up since Amy felt it made her sound a bit pathetic.

"How is she doing then?" Lou continued, now showing a little more interest in the horse.

Amy tried to pull herself out of this strange feeling and figured she should probably treat this like any other client call to help her get through the rut.

"She's fine. It's still in the early stages, but everything seems okay", Amy explained. "I've been reading mom's old journals about pregnant mares, and Cass brought some supplements, so... we are getting ready for what's to come."

"That's good. -- And Georgie? How is she doing?" Lou asked. "Of course we text and talk, and she says everything's fine, but... I'd like to have your opinion, seeing you're actually there with her every day. Has she recovered from the Peyton thing?"

Amy paused.

Somewhat. But I exposed her to new trauma, she answered inside her head.

"She's... She's fine. She's been helping me with the social media stuff and... she's riding like she used to. Hangs out with Wyatt a lot... You know, normal stuff", Amy explained. "She's resilient, as you know."

It was all true, even though things had now shifted, so she wasn't lying to Lou.

"Oh yeah, I've been keeping up with the posts. She's very good at making those. You can tell how well you two work together", Lou said, sounding like she was beaming with pride. "I was suspicious about her going back to Hudson, with all those memories from that competition haunting her, but... I think it might have been the right move. She said all she needed was the familiarity of Heartland, and... well, looks like she was right."

The way Lou talked to her felt like old times - the good old times - and the way she gushed about Georgie, and them working together, made Amy's throat tighten up.

If only Lou knew what was actually happening...

"And you...?" Lou finally asked after not getting a response from her little sister to what she had just said. "How are you doing?"

Amy's mouth felt dry.

"Uh, well... actually... That's the other reason I was calling..." she began, starting to unravel the other news.

[thecourtjester12]

What's the backstory behind the Monty in Wonderland AU?

Ifffff you're meaning how it came to be, well…I can explain that real quick, but I'm sure you're probably meaning moreso the story of the Au a bit?

Or a 3rd option that eludes me…

Anywho, I shall be answering the first two above! And Hopefully you are prepared for a bit of a ramble here! ^-^

Monty In Wonderland or MIW came to be because of an ask to do with pocket dimension JDCAU (the asks apply to canon of the AU but are initially happening in tandem from a separate pocket dimension, fun stuff!) But because of lil lore tidbits on that Moon I had a lovely question from FriskHeart to do with 'Alice in Wonderland'

And this lead to some silly banter in response from the beans on how Moon kinda acts like Cheshire with how he messes with Monty when they joke together and a silly comment about the idea of 'Monty In Wonderland' sounding silly

A good few of my DCA au's have little ties to JDCAU or others but…that is neither here nor now is it? :3

Butttt….that lil ask sparked my creation of turning a silly originally one of comment into an Au!

As for the Au itself…

Welllllll….I can't say I have a ton planned out just yet, a lot of loose ideas and bits and bobs kinda thing atm (I find it easier to plot out Au's that have a heavier basis in Canon…case and points being JDCAU, LSAU, CTAMK and to an extend J-TOL)

I do plan to have a good mix of both Fnaf SB canon and the original 'Alice in Wonderland' so i need to do some planning on all that to merge it nicely but also put my own twists and headcanons in as well of course ;3

I have a handful of characters roughly figured out and the medium tho so that's a start! ^-^

Writing with occasional illustrations (much like the original books, this lets me show of pretty (in my opinion at least…) designs and scenes but gives me the flow of 'nonsensical' writing that actually makes sense but sounds like it doesn't

Monty (as the AU title suggests) replaces Alice, he's still an animatronic, still the same metal gator man except for the fact he is in a…old fashioned child's dress that will NOT come off, it is way to snug and SHOULD rip but its just...stuck. And he has no clue where he is or what's going on, things feel familiar but not, familiar faces that look….more organic the he's used to seeing.

Everyone's more…animalistic and fantastical and what is WITH the old timey clothes, we're not in the 80's aesthetics anymore and its really throwing him for a loop here.

And what's more the Moon here…or the one that's LIKE his friend Moon 'Cheshire' is reallll sassy, much like Moon is but dialed up to a 11 (man…what a jerk they are) and Monty can't seem to wrap his head around anything in the place or what is and isn't real, all he knows is he needs to find a way to get through the strange 'land of nonsense' and get back to the plex where things are NORMAL again…more or less normal at least as a pizza plex with sentient animatronics can be at least.

[katherynefromphilly]

2, 8, & 20 for the writer meme

Thank you @shana-rosee ! Here you go.

2. Do you plan each chapter ahead or write as you go?

Ooo this is a long answer. Basically? I do it differently with each story. I’m still figuring it out.

I wrote And Like the Cycle of the Year, We Begin Again the absolute most difficult way possible: I started writing the first chapter and kept writing. However… the first draft, at 6 chapters, felt super contrived, and wildly out of character. So I rewrote the entire thing, but this time planned out major plot beats, crisis points, and conflict. But it STILL wasn’t quite right, so I took some time to read articles about plotting and writing effective scenes. During my third draft edit/re-write, I also wrote a summary of each scene, with all the stuff you’d see on a Scene Card. That helped a lot. I still needed several rounds of editing after that, so I wouldn’t recommend this path for a 200,000 word story, unless you want to write 8 drafts over 11 months.

With our Our Destinies Our Own, I extensively outlined the plot, but stayed too much a slave to that outline. The story is way, way, too long as a result. With Ever Onward, I tried something different, starting with a loose collection of scenes and plot points in my head, and then writing a super short outline. It was an experiment in writing more briefly, and tightening up my style, and I think it worked. That story is short, though, so maybe it only worked for that reason.

In my current story, which is longer and more plotty, I’m using Miro, a virtual infinite whiteboard product like Mural or Freeform. I want to try visualizing the escalating path of the plot. It’s been helpful in understanding where I feel the story is dragging. Also, in my Pages doc, right before I write each scene, I summarize the Setting, POV, and What Happens/What Changes. It seems to be working so far. But stay tuned.

I still do discovery writing/pantsing for my original short stories or my flash fiction. It’s less important when the max word count is 3 to 5 k, and you’re illustrating a theme or character, instead of taking them on a whole-ass journey.

8. Do you prefer the beginning, middle, or end of a story?

There is something really satisfying about a good story ending. I really like closing the open loops, drawing parallels, and letting my characters have that moment of rest after a long journey. My endings are more like endings + epilogues. I go crazy when I read a story that drives to a climax and then kicks you right out of bed afterward. Let me enjoy the characters and their success for a while, you know?

20. Have you noticed any patterns in your fics? Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?

I love writing about found family, and about unique people finding one another. I also love writing about older characters, and all the strength and sass and love they can have to offer. Eleanor represents the a type of woman I’ve frequently been blessed to know in my life. I really admire older women who have had a tough life but still have retained a loving, positive, caring heart.

Thanks again for the ask!

[the-algebra-thing]

wings of fire ravings below they are in my head and have to get out

I'm LOSING IT GUYS every time I reread any wings of fire books and especially whenever I get to read them for the first time I am MIND FUCKING BOGGLED by how simply and carefully and cleanly and effectively and accessibly tui t. sutherland manages to make these insanely big, complex, important issues for the children who are the books' target audience. I grew up on wings of fire; I got the dragonet prophecy as a prize from our summer reading program when I was still in elementary school. I read a TON when I was a kid and this is the only book series that has retained its original impact and basic messages as I've grown and read it again. my understanding of the issues it walks you through was genuinely just about as accurate when I first read through as it is now. seraphina is my favorite book in the world, but it's not written for children, and I understood something new about it every time I read it again growing up. it's a completely different sort of narrative beauty. wings of fire talks about so many things like different kinds of families, different kinds of races and how their cultures may differ, mesh, and clash, what it's like to have or have friends with completely different talents, or even like. just birth defects or things supposedly wrong with you. so much of it is about what it's like to be a kid and for grown-ups to think you're not good enough, or have plans for you that you don't like and didn't ask for, or to dismiss you and your thoughts and feelings because of your age and inherent lack of world experience. just as much of it is about what it's like to then grow up to be the ones with that authority, and how empowering it feels to do things differently, and with kindness. it illustrates principles like absolute power corrupts absolutely PLAIN as day and eloquently as shit. animus power is one of the most unique and well-executed and incredibly fucking effective metaphors I've ever encountered in children's fiction, and like I said, I've read a LOT. it's vague enough early on and just so firmly ensconced within the entire series that people in the target age bracket can do a lot of the connecting on their own before it gets to its point. even when it does it doesn't feel preachy like some books do. it really just feels like something is being properly clarified that has been carefully set up for 11+ books, and it's satisfying as hell to have all the connections and judgements you've made based on all of it finally confirmed. and the emotional impact is fully relevant to the character the third limited pov is centered around in that book. don't even get me STARTED on the personalities that are illustrated in each of these books and how they each serve the plot in the most effective way exactly in the book they were chosen to narrate.

I'm starting to reread the third arc now so I can read the last two books for the first time in preparation to read them to my little sister, with whom I'm currently working through the last of jade mountain prophecy. we dive into the dystopian shit pretty hard in lost continent, and I'm just sitting here marvelling at how easily accessible she was able to make that for just like. elementary and middle school kids. I can't fucking believe it

[modernwizard]

Why I love the Spymaster #91: He's really into brains!

Find my full series under the HELP I WUVS HIM tag.

#91: He's really into brains!

Warning: Discussion of suicide below!

Case in point: #12: His brainfingers! From at least Spyfall II onward, the Spymaster incessantly touches/points at/gestures toward his head when discussing his thoughts/his intellect/himself. I have a bunch of illustrated examples at the link.

Here's another nice example of brainfingers [omitted from the aforementioned list] from The Timeless Children in which the Spymaster is trying to explain how having the Cyberium inside him feels:

Even when he's not directly mentioning brains/intellect/consciousness/information, you can still see that he has them on the brain [see what I did there?], as shown in his gestures. This moment in The Timeless Children, where he says to Thirteen, "All I am is somehow because of you...I cannot bear that," shows him clutching at his forehead, almost like he's trying to tear something out. His body language suggests that he feels like his identity and the Doctor's are both mixed up in his head, and he wants to remove her and disentangle himself.

In The Power of the Doctor, the Spymaster's fixation on heads and brains and such shows up as well. In #79: The Scream!,I point out that he inserts himself into a painting of a figure holding their head--an extremely desperate variation on brainfingers.

Later in The Power of the Doctor, he exults to Yaz and Thirteen that he doesn't really care about Thirteen's attempt to undo his plans because, with the Cyberium in his head, he "can see it all, right through to our ends." [H/T @themastergifs for these gifs.]

The Spymaster uses the phrase "I'm in your head" to indicate how much more he knows about the future than Thirteen and Yaz. He also emphasizes it, once to Yaz, once to Thirteen, in yet another example of his repetitions [#31].

The Spymaster repeats things in part because he thinks through speaking or acting things out [#11: You can see his mind at work!]. He also does this because he thinks the things that he repeats are important. And what's important here is that he's in the Doctor's head.

And isn't that kind of what the Spymaster wants all along? Though infuriated and repulsed by a little piece of the Doctor being in him, the Spymaster also wants to be like the Doctor: as smart, as popular, as beloved, as successful, as famous, as special. He prizes his autonomy, as symbolized by his own brains/mind/head, because he does not want to be dependent on the Doctor. Nevertheless, he's constantly compromising his brains/self/autonomy by ingesting the Matrix and the Cyberium, adding foreign elements to his consciousness in an attempt to understand the Doctor. Furthermore, for all his insistence on his difference from the Doctor, the pinnacle of his scheme in The Power of the Doctor is a forced regeneration of Thirteen into him: in other words, a fusion of him and her, his forced takeover of her. He wants to be in her head so badly that he tries to become her.

With all his self-hatred, the Spymaster has the desire to be different, to quit being so unhappy, but he doesn't know how to change. He tries downloading the Matrix and ingesting the Cyberium in the hope that knowing more information will somehow make him better at scheming and thus more successful and happier. This does not occur. He tries committing suicide by Death Particle [#83: Portrayal of major depression!] to make...well, everything...stop. He even tries taking over Thirteen via forced regeneration [#55: He's a mess as the Doctor!] so that he can remake himself. None of this, of course, works.

The Spymaster seems to miss a key component of changing one's life. Adding more knowledge to his brain just makes him the same person, albeit with more knowledge. Committing suicide would just make him...well...dead. And usurping the Doctor's regeneration just leaves the Spymaster as the same person who happens to occupy Thirteen's place. He doesn't really change because he doesn't recognize that he has to actively work on examining, managing, and altering his thoughts, feelings, and behaviors. Changing one's life involves work, and the Spymaster wants to skip ahead to the results without having put in the requisite labor.

The Spymaster's self-hatred and desire to change thus give him the potential to become calmer, less destructive and short-tempered, happier, more confident, kinder, and better able to manage symptoms of mental illness. [I am not calling this a "redemption arc" because I hate the very Christian assumptions built into the concept.] In fact, the Master could become a happier, kinder person within the context of the show, and it wouldn't even have to involve fanfic. It would, however, involve trashing the concept of the Master as an inherently bad, and therefore mad and sad, character, and that won't happen.

@natalunasans @whovianuncle @sclfmastery @timeladyjamie @rowanthestrange

[misscherry-26]

I posted 870 times in 2022

That's 870 more posts than 2021!

35 posts created (4%)

835 posts reblogged (96%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@imyourbratzdoll

@cevansbrat0007

@f10werfae

@worksby-d

@syntheticavenger

I tagged 41 of my posts in 2022

#chris evans - 22 posts

#chris evans imagines - 21 posts

#chris evans x reader - 18 posts

#cevans - 17 posts

#christopher robert evans - 13 posts

#mdpplgtz03answers - 13 posts

#mdpplgtz03'swritings - 11 posts

#chris evans drabble - 11 posts

#chris evans x y/n - 10 posts

#chris evans smut - 8 posts

Longest Tag: 44 characters

#chris evans x short! book illustrator reader

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Chris x Wife!Pregnant reader (Short headcanon)

At night, he would sleep behind you, like spooning you, and would put his hand on your belly.

He would sit on the sofa with you, and talk to the baby, while you massage his hair with your hands, whispering sweet things to your future baby boy/girl.

He would get very horny by seeing you with his t- shirts and shorts, since his clothes are comfortable for you.  So ugh, if it were up to him, he'd get you pregnant already while you're pregnant.

He would be all the time aware of whether you are well, comfortable, if you are hungry, or have cravings.

He would constantly repeat to you how much he loves you and how happy he is to be with you, and he would thank you for everything.

250 notes - Posted August 29, 2022

#4

Ok but imagine being like this with Chris Evans.

He comes back tired after work and lays down with you to relax and ends up asleep.

365 notes - Posted September 28, 2022

#3

Oh I have this sexy idea where Chris Evans and his wife reader does a sex tape

Sex tape - Chris Evans

Summary: Chris and his wife make a sex tape.

Pairing: Husb!Chris Evans x Wife!Reader

Warnings: +18! Smut!Sex! Unprotected sex!

Author's note: I hope you like it as much as I liked writing it, Because OH. MY. GOD (hehehe)

Enjoy it and thank you for requesting! ❤️

Mistakes will be corrected later!

“Keep going baby. Keep-ah- going.”

“Chris mmhmm”

Chris pumps in and out of you passionately, holding you from your waist with one hand.

“Yeah, you look so sexy like this, my wife’s so sexy-yeah baby”Chris turns up the intensity, this time he comes completely out of you, just leaving the tip inside, hitting your spot. Your internal walls lubricate and cream Chris's member more and more, the wet noise is more than proof of it.

Your husband's gaze travels there. “Look at that” he says with a raspy voice.

A fine line of saliva drips from his mouth and falls in between, making the pass much easier.

“Chris please-Ple-please keep go-goin'”

"I don't plan to stop," His gaze returns to your face, gently squeezing from your cheeks, making your full lips stand out more.

He wants to document every fine detail of you.

“Look at me honey, look here,” He quickens his pace. "I'm not going to stop. Oh, of course not. Not until I fill this precious pussy with my hot cum. Not until you creame me.”

But he doesn't expect you to respond to that, because he knows that your response is the moans, the murmurs that barely come out from the intense stimulation your body is receiving second by second.

Your body is in a state of relaxation and, at the same time, of excitement that you lose track of time. Chris is about to come, the pressure and force that he exerts now is much more intense, strong, passionate.

For a moment the small device falls from your husband's hand to your abdomen. You don't even flinch in taking it, you have no strength. You need to explode. Your body needs to release all that pleasure.

You need to reach the top of the mountain.

Chris takes it quickly but instead of holding it, this time he puts it on the bed. Some pillows support it from behind so it doesn't fall, giving the perfect shot of both of them, although he can't see his face, not until he lays on top of you, hugging you tightly, as if he had to hold on to keep from falling.

Both of you are close, you lace your hands behind his head, pulling him towards your neck.

The fireworks in both begin to light up, The fire begins to spread by the thread that holds the small box with gunpowder.

The fire spreads more, and more.

And more.

And more.

Until finally…

It's like an explosion, a big, charged explosion that happens inside of you, and inside of your pussy.

See the full post

431 notes - Posted November 27, 2022

#2

Andy is divorced and a single dad to jacob, he meets up his his highschool sweetheart! reader, who is divorced and has five years old, daughter

High school sweetheart- Andy Barber

Summary: Andy and Jacob enjoy lunch, but a falling glass leads to a special high school reunion.

Pairing: Andy Barber x High school sweetheart!reader (Ft. Jacob and reader's daughter, Stella)

Author's note: Hope you like it and thanks for requesting! 💛 Mistakes will be corrected.

"And I'm going to order a hamburger and fries and," Andy looks at his son, who pauses to choose a drink from the menu. "A cola without sugar."

The waitress finishes writing down in her little notebook and smiles at them both, "Okay, I'll get them right away."

"Thank you," says Andy politely to the waitress before scowling at his son, who is sitting across from him.

“What?” Jacob asks, confused

His father scoffs, laughing, and doing a vague imitation of his son, he adds, “I will order a salad”

They both laugh, recalling Jacob's comment on their way to the bar a few minutes earlier.

The young man raised his hands surrendered "ok I admit it, the hamburger at the table in the entrance looked tempting and I just wanted to try it.” He points with his head to the big hamburger, on the table on the other side, in front of a girl of about four, five years old, who’s moving her legs from side to side, waiting anxiously for someone.

Andy turns his head to looks at the little girl but quickly his gaze goes back to his table, where the waitress leaves the lunch for both of them. "enjoy it". They both thank her with a simple nod and begin to eat. Andy is unaware that the little girl's companion is someone very well known to him.

“God! It was delicious, but I think i will not eat anything for the next three days”. 

His father opens his mouth to say something but he cuts him off. “Yes. I know, you don't have to scold me again for not ordering the salad.” 

Andy laughs, leaves the pay on the table and gets up from the table, like his son, to leave the bar and start the walk home. 

 “Wait, I need to go to the bathroom first. Go to the car, I'll catch up with you in a few seconds ok?” 

“Sure”

The noise of a glass falling to the ground alerts the young man.

"Oh my god Stel, Are you alright hun?”

 Jacob walks over to help the little girl, and you. “Are you okay?” with a couple of napkins tries to pick up the pieces of glass. After a second, two  waitresses arrive to clean the mess. 

“Thanks for the help” you smile kindly at him.

“No problem. she's ok, Got hurt?” The latter addressing the little girl who is sitting, but the little girl doesn't answer. 

“Stella, be polite please.”

“I’m fine, but my ice cream. I Cant’ eat it anymore” the little one answers sadly. Jacob catches up with her. "Well, Stella, right? She nods. “I have an idea, but first we have to ask your mother"

The bathroom door opens, Andy getting out of it. Determined to go to the car, thinking that his son is waiting there, but it’s not like that. He’s sitting next to a little girl, the same one he had pointed out when they were waiting for the food, they’re both sharing an ice cream. 

And in front, there is you. He feels how time stops around him when he sees you. It’s as if the years hadn’t passed for you. 

Your face, illuminated by your warm lips which curve into a beautiful smile. Your eyes, that color so unique, so…hypnotic. Your soft hair that falls on your shoulders...There, sitting opposite of the little girl and Jacob, is you. Her high school sweetheart.

“Dad. Dad, hey!”

Andy comes back to reality with the call of his son. You turn around, your curiosity explodes inside.

See the full post

548 notes - Posted September 18, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Oh i got this total idea where chris evans is taking a nap for an interview with ET while his wife, reader cooking up. their toddler girl has a makeup kit for kids and use it on chris. Chris didn't know about it until the interview

Mommy, do you like the way I did daddy's makeup? - Chris Evans

Or said by Blue Evans: "Mommy, do you lite the 'ay I tit daddy's mateup?"

Summary: Chris decides to get some rest before the ET interview, and falls asleep on the couch. His daughter, Blue decides to get her dad ready for the interview.

Pairing: Husb!Chris Evans x Wife!Reader x Daughter!Blue Evans.

Author's note: I swear I've been working on this for a week and I even felt a little bad because I never got around to finishing it because of how busy I was.

I have to say that I loved writing this beautiful and cute story!!!

Hope you like it and thanks for requesting!

Gif from Pinterest

Little Blue Evans is sitting on the floor, with all her toys scattered on the carpet, watching cartoons on television.

At least that's what you see from the kitchen. You're making some chocolate cookies. Chris and Blue's favorites.

And speaking of Chris, your husband, you realize that you didn't see him with your daughter. How strange. If you remember correctly, he told you that he would be there.

You take the tray with the cookies and place them inside the oven. Then, curious, you go to look for your husband. As you get closer, you start to hear a slight… snoring?

And you're not wrong. In front of you is Chris, lying on the couch, sleeping. Looking at the time on the clock, you move him a little to wake him up.

"Chris. Chris." He shifts a little on the couch, but doesn't open his eyes. You try to call him about two more times, and that's when it seems to work.

In a hoarse, sleepy voice and opening his eyes a little, he asks you what you need.

"Don't forget that you have the interview with ET in an hour babe"

Chris has been up since six in the morning, going from interview to interview about his projects, life… so it's more than understandable that he is taking a nap.

"Mhm, I know, I'm up now" and he goes back to sleep.

You shake your head, chuckling at your husband's action, and head back to the kitchen to clean and put everything away, as well as checking the cookies from time to time.

But what you don't know is that little Blue, hearing that her father has an interview, got up as soon as you left, to get her makeup kit.

The little girl quickly returns and places the small pink suitcase on the floor and opens it. She then gets down on her knees to get up to her father's face and… gets to work...

—

Chris wakes up to the sunlight starting to hit him in the face. He slowly sits down on the couch and wakes up a bit. He watches the clock. Just in time for the interview.

Without time to see himself in the mirror, he straightens his hair a little and takes the computer and turns it on.

"In today's section we will be interviewing a great Hollywood star, husband and father. With you, Chris Evans"

At that moment Chris turns on the camera, completely inhibited of what is happening… on his face.

On the other hand, you are in the kitchen decorating the cookies with a chocolate coating, when Blue runs in with the small suitcase in hand.

"Mommy mommy mommy!"

"B I told you the cookies aren't ready yet" you notice her running in "and what did I tell you about running in the kitchen? It's dangerous B–"

See the full post

657 notes - Posted October 4, 2022

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[lumiereandcogsworth]

Fanfic Writer 20 Questions!

i did this over a year ago and i thought, since i’ve just hit the 100 fic milestone, thought it would be fun (for me at least) to do it again!

—

1. how many works do you have on ao3? 101! i hit 100 beauty and the beast 2017 fics, but there’s one other.

2. what’s your total ao3 word count? 181,325

3. how many fandoms have you written for and what are they? in my whole writing life? six, i believe. sherlock, loki, the office (all never posted anywhere), law & order svu (has since been deleted), juanita 2019, and beauty and the beast 2017 - my only two on ao3. the juanita fic is an epilogue to the movie, i just didn’t like how it ended and i needed to see them get together. hardly anyone has seen that movie but in the event that someone does? i have an excellent fic that’s always there for them <3

4. what are your top five fics by kudos? they’re all among my oldest fics. it’s not like popularity for this movie has GROWN since i started writing lmao

5. do you respond to comments? why or why not? yes always!! i appreciate comments IMMENSELY and i always wanna thank commenters 1. because i am extremely grateful and 2. because i want commenters to feel encouraged to continue commenting, not on mine specifically but just in general, and to know how much writers appreciate it. because we really do.

6. what’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending? i mean none of my young adam fics end particularly happily, even if the moment is happy you still know how much sadness and angst surrounds the situation. generally i like to write happy endings that tie everything into a neat bow though, lol. this one is really angsty and intense UNTIL the ending. emotional hurt/comfort ending babey!!

7. do you write crossovers? not besides the beautifully detailed universe emily and i have created together <3 but it’s not published anywhere we’re just constantly adding to it and saving it in our docs

8. have you ever received hate on a fic? no and i’m thankful for that ! my fics hardly get any reads so if they DO get read, it’s a positive reaction

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind? nah. i’ve written a few tiny scenes over the years but i don’t plan on posting them. the furthest i’ll go with posting is making out. i have a couple where they ARE naked but nothing happens. it’s just about Being together <3

10. have you ever had a fic stolen? none that i’m aware of!

11. have you ever had a fic translated? none that i’m aware of!!

12. have you ever co-written a fic before? no but i have co-created a fic, i wrote and @drawnby27emilys illustrated! that’s right here, if anyone wants to see :)

13. what’s your all-time favorite ship? hmm i wonder!! it’s adam and belle from beauty and the beast 2017 :))

14. what’s a wip that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will? eh, i don’t think i can rule anything out. who knows what’ll inspire me? i still have that wip based on a dream i had where it’s set in modern au and adam has a little sister. i have no thoughts about it and i haven’t written about it since the first time but hey, maybe one day??

15. what are your writing strengths? according to my pals’ reviews, and i do agree, i think i’m pretty good at painting the picture. leaving little details, setting the atmosphere. also expanding upon little moments. taking a small idea like someone receiving a gift or them getting a dog and making it like. a big beautiful thing <3 and dialogue too !! but that’s kind of exclusive to adam and belle, they’ve just been living in my head for so long it’s as easy as breathing with them.

16. what are your writing weaknesses? arguments, mostly because i just hate to see people argue, especially my beloveds. i know they DO argue and i HAVE written them arguing before but it’s just few and far between. i much prefer to write soft happy moments. but yeah, conflict in general sjdksjdk. but i’m working on it !

17. what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in another language? i certainly don’t have the skills to do so but i think it’s cool if it’s done right! the furthest i go is writing certain words and pet names in french, but they’re commonly known words that most likely wouldn’t even require translation.

18. what was the first fandom you ever wrote for? i hand wrote bbc sherlock childhood fic in a journal when i was 12 LMAO

19. what’s your favorite fic you’ve ever written? ooohshofjsfkjd not to sound self-centered but im proud of a lot of my works. still one of my all time favorites is majesty of a different breed. it’s just a fun and lovely time. baby bonnet has also become very special to me. the fic about when their first child was born is also verryyyy beloved to me. i reread it often. nogaux is also Really good i’m very proud of it. it’s set during the movie, it’s like a whole added mini plot and i adore it :”) and this one!! so many years down the road and they still love dancing together 😭 i sob. ah, i could go on and on, but i’ll leave it there.

20. who do you tag? (no pressure of course <3) @freakwiththeknifecollection @corycunningham @katia-dreamer @trulyhopelessromantic @misscrazyfangirl321 @gavotteangel + any other writers who want to can say i tagged you!!

[chenria]

I posted 262 times in 2022

That's 12 more posts than 2021!

183 posts created (70%)

79 posts reblogged (30%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@chenria

@mimikoflamemaker

@sofia-d-asb

@tippystreasurebox

@miasmat

I tagged 205 of my posts in 2022

Only 22% of my posts had no tags

#original character - 24 posts

#litg carl - 22 posts

#litg s2 - 21 posts

#litg season 2 - 20 posts

#litg mc - 18 posts

#thunderbirds are go - 17 posts

#litg carl x mc - 13 posts

#litg fanfic - 13 posts

#shameless self promotion - 11 posts

#digital art - 10 posts

Longest Tag: 81 characters

#i am really looking forward to play more with my new character of princess elodie

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Okay... I threw m plans for a Mermay picture out of the window. I've been binging "My Time at Portia" for days now. This is just such a relaxing and unagitated game that brings me so much joy with building and fulfilling the commissions for the townspeople.

My builder Cassidy nearly instantly fell in love with the head of Civil Corps (the "police" of the town) and Arlo is just so cute.

So I had to feed my current hyperfixiation with a quick fanart of Cassidy with her husband Arlo (yes, she managed to marry him on the last day of the first year :3)

107 notes - Posted May 29, 2022

#4

Patreon reward for the lovely sissy_the_siren - she requested a picture of her adorable Hawke and I hope I did her justice.

110 notes - Posted February 9, 2022

#3

Okay... so... this was supposed to be my "personal art" piece for March. But migraine... I at least managed to finish it and I am mostly satisfied with the outcome. Since it's not a commission I am not going to fret too much over the parts that didn't turn out quite like I wanted them.

But at least I got myself a Lynn/Bruno fanart while I am still enjoying Season 4 of "Love Island the Game".

This game is truly a guilty pleasure and I am probably 20 years older than the target audience XD but it's silly and fun and I need that in my life right now XD Lynn is the main character in this season and I am playing her in the game.

And I know about the controversies around season 4. But I decided that I can't shut out everything in my life that I enjoy because capitalism is a thing... I have fun - you just don't have to take this season too seriously XD

Lynn and Bruno would never work outside the Villa... but that's a problem for another day XD

[My Patrons get the high res version as well as sketches and progress pictures leading up to this piece.]

Patreon || Twitter

112 notes - Posted April 2, 2022

#2

Of course... right before I need to get back to work I find my inspiration and the motivation to draw again ;) At least that's a good sign that I am really over Covid (now I only need to get rid of that annoying cough...) But at least I could seize the remaining time and managed to finish something small for myself. A picture of Virgil Tracy - yes, it's that time again that I need Thunderbirds escapism and a self-indulging picture of Virg... 

Btw... Virigl has horrible hair and I hate to draw it...

The background is a photo of the sky ... I was too lazy to come up with an actual background...

115 notes - Posted May 11, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

It’s the 16th... so we can post this, right? I’ve been waiting since May to finally be allowed to share this XD  My contribution to this years TAG Mini Bang ( @tagminibang2022 / @tagminibang ) I got assigned to illustrate one of @womble1′s great fanfics and there was so much to chose from and many brilliant fics! ♥ But that one scene totally brought an instant image to my mind, so I had to illustrate it after I read the little story called “Rest”.

In the sunken seating area, Scott was stretched out across a sofa, head propped up on a cushion, a book in one hand, legs crossed at the ankles.

“That's right little bro,” he [note: Gordon] crouched lower, draping an arm over Alan's shoulder and lowered his voice in his best nature programme voice over impression. “Here we see a very rare sight, for a while it has been thought to be extinct by several scientific communities, it’s a resting Scott Tracy”

Story: “Rest” by @womble1 

121 notes - Posted July 16, 2022

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