#maybe i should make an oc out of him... but also do i wanna subject him to that

[wackywatchdotcom]

anyway i so badly wanna do like. a study of my pomni plush and Red Horse together

[plumipal]

AAAAAOMG UR TWST OC IS SO ADORABLE?? i'm absolutely in love with eden sm (+ his design?? the star eyes and the wings are my favorite,, i wanna smooch all his tattoos!) and i hope it's okay to ask a few questions about him... (I KNOW U SAID IT WAS OKAY BUT I JUST WANTED TO MAKE SURE 😭 i'm genuinely interested in knowing more!)

1) does he have anyone in the twst cast that he tolerates/likes? i know he's part of the whole harem thing but is there anyone he doesn't necessarily mind being around (or even sharing with the prefect?)

2) do grim and eden have a good relationship? i would assume so since they're living both with one another but do they just get along with each other for the prefect's sake or are they actually best buds? (๑ > ᴗ < ๑)

(little dumb idea but i think it would be so cute if the prefect treated the two as if they were all like a little family! eden and prefect being the two parents and grim their rambunctious kid lmao,, i would imagine the others not being so happy about it (っ‘ω`c))

3) is he okay with physical affection/pda? is he totally chill about it or would he rather shy about the whole thing? is he open to having the prefect touch his wings or his tattoos?

4) oooo any funfacts that you have about the new ramshackle resident?? just in general really if that's okay with u ofc!! ☆

aa okay that's it!! i hope my questions weren't annoying or anything! (っ‘ω`c)

Had to get one of those wheels ive seen going around where you put the oc and how they feel about the character and how the characters feel back about them, but with a twist lol (most of them are haters).

The ones he are most tolerant with are grim, ace, deuce, jack and kalim. Only one he could possible share with would either be kalim, jack or deuce, because of how he sorta is annoyed by ace.

Of course cant forget how he feels about you :) he thinks you are very very very special and he loves you a lot <3

He likes grim a lot, seeing as grim isn't one of the students that is oh so annoying. He warms up to the monster, seeing how gently you take care of grim, wanting to do the same. It feels, domestic, in his opinion.

Grim likes Eden a lot too, he has never belittled him, he has always made sure to feed grim along with Eden being very warm (and therefore very nice to sleep on). In grims opinion, he thinks you should go with Eden, cuz he is a good candidate for marriage (grim has been bribed with love, affection, and tuna).

He takes good care of the cat son, making sure he is healthy and happy.

Now onto pda. Eden are only okay with you touching the wings, the tattoo and the core, being as they are quite sensitive. The scar is still off limits, but maybe if you make him warm up to you even more you might be able to-

He loves when you help him with his wings, it's one of the best feelings out there. Fo mind that only you (and grim) can touch the wings, anyone else is off limits, ESPECIALLY ROOK HE IS FORBIDDEN TO TOUCH THEM.

Eden facts!! He has lil "ear-holes" like birds, just behind the feathers. Be careful around that part when you help him with his feathers, otherwise you might have a pouty and angry Eden on tour hands.

His eyes also glow in the dark! It's the scariest during the nightly snack runs down to the kitchen, seeing him suddenly stare at you, but you slowly get used to it!

You don't know where the extra eyes sometimes come from tho...

Also some general facts about Eden!

Dorm: Ramshackle

Birthday: 1/1

Age: ???

Height: 185cm

Fav subject: alchemy

Hobby: cleaning in ramshackle, birdwatching

Likes: you

Dislikes: Loud noises, blond 3rd year hunters named rook hunt, people trying to grab onto his wings that aren't you

Fav food: he don't need to eat to gain sustenance, bur he likes mashed potatoes with gravy

Least fav food: soup, any soup, he hates it

Btw if anyone were to write for Eden I would explode it would mean the world to me

[purble-gaymer]

mmm just wanted to say that i really love your writing and i'm really excited to see what you make in the future! your gsa stuff is so pleasant and angsty and i've really been enjoying wwtmk <3 that's not even getting into how much i liked the cannibalism fic.... now you'll be a part of me forever !! i'm such a sucker for that kind of thing.

actually, i was kind of wondering what you were plotting for the future so i could look forward to it! i've loved following your work so farrrr

waa hello thank you!! yknow i don't hear much about the beast in the walls but i really love that one so good to know! i can share some of my prospective calendar (though everything i say is subject to change)

once wwtmk is done, i probably won't be posting much for a bit. i might do something sword/blade/mk related for valentine's day if i can think of an idea before then. after that though, i have another little project focused on the knights at the time they first met. it's a continuation of a fateful encounter. at the moment it's sitting at about 23k, and i think i'm a little past halfway through it. ideally i'll start publishing it sometime in late february or march, but winter is usually the busiest and most stressful term so it'll be later rather than sooner. plus i'd like to have a majority of it written out first. i don't exactly have a surplus of time or energy this time of year so it'll be a while still.

most ship content will probably end up on my other pseud for the foreseeable future (excluding the potential valentine's thing) to avoid like...cluttering things, i guess? so for that there's always more knights, maybe metamorpho in a normal context, maybe arthur/nonsurat for the two people who care because i love them a lot. oh and also falspar and dragato doing whatever the hell they're doing because i would die for them.

absolutely there will be more gsa one-shots. i've had some ideas floating around but no energy to really get into them. plus my usual strategy for the gsa is to sit down and write for three straight hours because they sort of automatically put me in a flow state, and i can't do that at school cause i have other things to do. there might be some stuff about their history. i don't really know where to begin with all that, plus there's ocs i'd have to deal with, so we'll see. galacta knight related stuff is also a possibility, especially more about him and mk when they were working for nme. check out how much galactadad angst i can make

overall this year i wanna write more out of my comfort zone honestly. writing things like the beast in the walls or know your place was weird but it was also really really fun. so if i ever jump on any out-there ideas, i might actually do something with them. OH THIS INCLUDES AN ARTHUR AND MK BEING FAMILY THING I'VE BEEN SITTING ON. i completely forgot about that. i should polish it up and publish it for my birthday because it is so self-indulgent and silly. so that is now happening next week. metamorphosed one-shot is also happening later this week (tomorrow or thursday) because i'm normal about that au.

so that's a lot, and most of it is very up in the air because i'm always doing things...but you can 100% expect more knights content in the near future. wwtmk is like standing on the edge of a canyon peeking into my kirby interpretations. i have to write or i will explode

[lovely-peace]

Don't let me fall

Part 1

~No use of y/n(Oc is named Georgia for symbolism). Oc isn't described physical any further, so can be seen as Reader. But the oc has her own Habbits and Background story. Oc has an Ex boyfriend.~

"Georgia!? Let me in, you lunatic!" The hammering against the door only could be from one person. Amelia her own sister. No one else was looking for her. No one else would come to her dorm. No one else would notice that she wasn't in class or at the breakfast.

" OPEN THE DOOR OR I WILL DESTROY IT WITH MY BARE HANDS!" Amy screamed. She got up and walked to the door. She hesitated to open it, but she did anyway. Amy standed there with a very angry expression on her face like she did something so dumb that it hurts.

It was hard to believe that Amy was the 2-year-younger sister, because of her outgoing nature and her way to take care of Georgia. "What did he do now? I will kill-" Amy begann but Georgia interrupted her:" I broke up with him." Amy was taken back for a second "You did what?"

"I broke up with him."

Silence spread in the room til Amy responded again, this time with a quiet voice : "Why? What did he do now?" Yeah, why? She couldn't respond. She could only stare at her sister, who grew angrier every second in silence. "HOW DID HE HURT YOU?" … "Don't worry about it, you should go to class. I have a free first lesson, so don't worry." she simply stated, with no intention of explaining what happened. Amy was frustrated at her words but she did what she was told because she knew her sister. She wouldn't speak about it now.

Maybe she never would.

As Amy walked down the hall she only had one thing in her mind.

I would never fall in love again.

~1 year later. 6th year at hogwarts for Georgia~

Amy was a strong woman. She was ready to fight her whole life but she never needed to.

Georgia wasn't that strong. She didn't fight the thoughts in her head and didn't do anything to overcome her first heartbreak. She just closed her heart for anyone except her sister. She didn't go to parties since… the one where it happened. She didn't have any friends anymore. Her roommates begged the professor to let them move out of their dorm because of her habbit to read til late night. And because of him. Because of the way he broke the girl and made her to a shell of herself. They didn't want to deal with that. No one did…not even Amy.

At first Amy tried to drag her outside of her room but she would freeze up with other people. Amy just visited her in her room. She of course went to class, but as soon as the bell rang she was out the door to ran to her room.

But Amy had her own life and couldn't come to her dorm everyday.

She was lonely.

~Potion class~

Potion was her least favorite subject. Professor Slughorn had this habbit to make group projects, which ended most of the time in awkward conversation. No one really wanted to be with her in a group, so she was always the last one  left to find a partner. The professor had to partner her up with anyone who was also left. It was humiliating.

"The Amortentia potion is a very difficult potion to make. I would devide the class into pairs of 2."

Again..

"Georgia, you don't have a partner? Lily would you work with her?" the professor asked the red head. She just beamed a smile at her and said it wouldn't be a problem and somehow that comforted Georgia. "So, should we start?" the girl asked her and she simply nodded.

Working with lily was really easy. She seemed to be an expert at the subject and wasn't mad at her when she did something wrong. Georgia would go as far as saying that she really enjoyed her company. Deep down she wanted to be friends, but she was scared. Scared to be hurt again. To be betrayed again. So when the class ended she wanted to run to her dorm again like everyday, but she heard lily's voice before she could run away.

"Hey, do you wanna go with me and my friends to the library? We can do homework there."

And in that moment she spoke before she could think.

"Yeah, sure."

That's how she became friends with lily and her friends Marlene, Alice, Mary and Dorcas.

~some time later~

"So you haven't been to a Party from the marauders before?" Marlene asked shocked.

It was Helloween and a party was being thrown. Normally she would avoid the parties but now she had real friends which wanted to go to the party. So she wanted to.

" No I never really wanted to go there. " she said. " Well, you should go this year. You haven't seen the way a special someone is trying to make Lily his." Dorcas said, smirking at said person. Lily had a flush on her cheeks, when she told Dorcas to shut up.

" But seriously, " Lily said," it is always fun to be there. And the marauders are all really nice too. Well, maybe except Sirius he can be a dick, but you know what I mean." Georgia smiled at her. "If you guys go I will go too."

~~~

"YOU GO TO A WHAT!? " Amy screamed. "To a party." she simply said. Amy blinked at her a few times before saying :" You? On a party?" "Yeah, is that so hard to believe?" she was getting a little bit uncomfortable now when she saw Amy frowning. " Of course it is! You haven't been to a party since 5th grade!… I mean I am happy that you go out again, I'm just worried." "About what?" "About him. He will be there."

She begann to breathe heavily at the mention of him. But she wanted to fight again. She wanted to overcome him.

"Well then I just have to ignore him."

~at the party~

The party was in the Gryffindor common room. Amy insisted to come with her.

"I have to keep an eye on you and protect you." she said and didn't tolerate any fight.

Lily and Marlene waited for her outside. She waved at them and they went together inside. In the common room were already many people and slowly the doubts from before begann to creep up again. As soon as they went in a black raven haired boy came up to them.

"Lily, Marlene you came! You know James will be sooo happy to see that you took his invitation." the boy said with a smirk on his face and he wiggled his eyebrows at Lily like he was trying to say something. Lily seemed embarrassed, but remained cool. "It's a Party from the house Gryffindor. I am in Gryffindor. I have to come."

"Yeah sure keep telling yourself that." The boy looked at her and seemed surprised as if he just noticed her. "Who is this?" he asked. "That's Georgia. Georgia that's Sirius." Lily said and looked at her like she said: remember what I told you about him.

"Well hello there beautiful." Sirius said with a smirk on his face as he took her hand and kissed it. She took her hand out of his grip and just said "hello".

"Shy? You don't have to worry I don't bite." he kept on saying and she felt slightly uncomfortable. "Oh please Sirius, stop. It's embarrassing." Marlene told him and Georgia felt a little bit better.

"You're no fun Marlene…" Sirius whined. "Where are the others of your silly group?" Lily asked.  "Well, James is over there at the buffet of you want to see him sooo bad, " Sirius said with a grin on his face, " Remus went outside for a bit and Peter is sick. He is with Madam Pomfrey."

"What does he have?" Marlene asked. " Officially? The flu." Sirius said. Lily sighned. "And unofficially?" Sirius grinned wider. "Well, let's just say he didn't drink his usually juice in the morning." She didn't know what he meant by that til Marlene said:" You gave him a potion as a prank Sirius? When will you grow up, that isn't funny that's just cruel!" She suddenly felt the urge to never take anything he gives her to drink. Sirius just laughed. "You're just as boring as Remus, Marlene!" Marlene scoffed and Lily rolled her eyes.

"Let's go to the buffet, Ladies! Prongs is waiting for his future wife." Sirius said, changing the subject and dragging the three girls with him. Amy already left.She saw her friends and went to them. She was relieved because she didn't want to ruin her little sister's friendship just because her sister wanted to protect her.

The buffet was big and had plenty of food and drinks. A boy with dark messy hair and glasses stood before it and had a drink in his right hand. When he saw the three girls (Lily) he had the biggest smile on his face and came up to them.

"Hey, it's so good to see you!" he said and his left hand went straight to his hair as if he tried to make it more messy. "Hey." Lily said and seemed to have a little red faint over her cheeks. The boy who seemed to be James didn't notice. Sirius did notice by the look on his face.

She felt exited by the party. It was all so exciting to see other people again and to socialize. It was all perfect.

Until she saw him.

He sat across the room and looked at her as if he saw her the whole time. He had this sick smile on his face that she once loved and now despised. His licked his fingers as he looked into her eyes.

She needed to leave now.

"Eh, guys? I think I need a little fresh air." she said, which was a poor excuse. They just arrived. But the others just nodded and she took the chance and left. She went fast outside but she noticed that he followed her.

"Georgia? Wait a second, darling!"

The pet name startled her and she tried to walk faster but once they were outside he caught up.

"Finally, I can talk to you again. You just have to be with your sister all the time, have you?"

His voice scared her. He scared her.

"Let me go..." She said.

"What was that?" he said with a smirk on his face that showed that he understood just fine what she said.

"Hey, what's going on here?" a voice said behind them. When they turned around, there stood a boy with brown hair and scars on his face.

"Nothing we were just talking." the boy who held her said.

"Doesn't look like she wants to talk with you. Let her go." the other boy said. Her Ex didn't want to make a scene so he let her go and just smiled at her.

"I will talk to you later, okay?" he said and left. She was taken back by that statement. It seemed like threat to her.

"Are you okay?" the boy who just unknowingly rescued her asked.

"I'm fine, thanks" she lied. "What was that about?"

She didn't answer that question and he noticed that she was uncomfortable and he said :"It doesn't matter. What's your name?"

"Georgia, yours?"

He smiled. "Remus. It's nice to meet you."

When I found you again.

English isn't my first language so please forgive me for my bad grammar 🙏

[keefwho]

October 22 - 2024 Tuesday

10:57pm

5/10

I slept in for 30 minutes this morning because I woke up so tired. Then I super cleaned my shower and finally got my new curtain put in.

Instead of streaming today I hopped in VRchat while I worked. I stayed relatively focused, I did my warmup and finished the commission I was working on. Then I started the next one but ultimately I ended early because of finishing that drawing. I feel bad because I do wish I could do more. I make my schedule because I think it's what I should be able to handle but I usually don't do it all. Except for some weeks. It works in waves how much I get done. The thing is, if I HAD to do it all then I would, but most of it is optional. They are things I want to do in theory but am too tired for or maybe I've truly lost interest in certain ideas and I don't want to admit it. Clearly I am not being driven well enough. I also always factor in how much I try to save my energy for commissions because the last thing I wanna be is burnt out for work that is necessary. Maybe then I should forget about that and expend my energy wildly. Worth a shot.

I watched an episode of Invincible with RS today which was very nice, I think things are finally leveled out and normal between us. They were awhile before but now I think I'm sure of it. BR was right in this case, she said maybe in a year or two we'd be on better terms. I didn't think we'd actually ever talk again but here we are and it's all fine. I imagine very limited contact though. As I'm doing with everyone these days, I have to be wary of communicating on my own terms, especially with him. I doubt it'll be an issue but our problem was how unwilling I was to stand up for myself or what I wanted.

DS won a request today which led me to draw Ghoulia as a pony and that was very fun. I drew her well, like how I wish I'd always draw ponies. I think this is the case because I actually cared about the idea and character, my heart was in it. After that I finished up a personal piece that got me thinking about the kinds of things I draw for myself. It's weird because I almost never draw from the heart anymore and I didn't with this one either. But I did have fun. I tend to use my OC as the subject matter for drawing I know will be fun to make and that I know other people will enjoy because of the situation/quality. But I don't act out of a place of desire like I used to. I wish I did. Thats something I'd like to explore again. I've been thinking about the steps I need to take to open myself back up sexually and explore my interests. And who I could do that with. But before that I gotta figure out and be comfortable with whatever I enjoy right now. Channeling that into art might be powerful.

DS and I watched Clash of the Titans and it was a good movie. I had made popcorn as part of my lunch otherwise I would have made some for the movie.

[bratshaws]

through the hourglass 2. brb x oc

a/n: cHAPTER 2 and im still a bit....nervous! But im getting better. I really am open for feedback! ;0; so if u guys wanna comment or anything pls do. also put the title in lower case because it was bothering me so much.

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: fluff, self doubt issues even after marriage? you bet, Rooster loving Bea so much it drives me crazy

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

1/

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!! OR REMOVED! i just kept you guys cause you wanted to be in GG so >- > IDK IM SORRY)

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @shrimping-for-all @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix

@lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2

@emilybradshaw @j-6o @louisahale @leobabbyyy @kulicny @winter-run @ktjmac @graciereads @bigpoppajes @taytaylala12

-

Besides her uncle's sudden call, Beatrice wasn’t too worried, maybe it’d be fun! Even if she just now found out her uncle had a boat and wondered how the hell he managed that without her aunt being against it.  Thankfully she wouldn’t worry about that yet since there were still many things Rooster should see.

And on the subject of Rooster, he looked so good, hard of him not to honestly, but that tight shirt was making more than her head turn. She could see people looking his way, he was taller than most of the people on the street and that does call people's attention a lot more.

A group of women walked past the two only to turn their heads back to her husband, one of the women even lowered her sunglasses to have a better look before noticing Beatrice looking at her. She wasn't mad, in fact she looked almost amused by the situation, clenching Rooster's hand a little bit tighter while stepping closer to him.

She didn’t have to be territorial because Rooster never gave her reason to be jealous of him…but it did make her feel good seeing those ladies speeding up their step when they noticed her looking towards them. Bradley looks down at her to see her head tilted back, which in turn makes him look too but he only sees the very few passerby, arching one eyebrow in question “Did something happen?”

Beatrice snaps her eyes up to him in surprise “Huh?” He arches his bro higher “Oh uh no, no, nothing happened.” She offers him a shrug “ I just thought I saw something.”

He hums, not believing her but also not wanting to break that smug little look on her face, so he just let her go with it. They’ve been walking for a while, Beatrice explaining certain areas to him and leading him along, her smaller hand nestled against his with the cold of her wedding ring in his palm.

He rubs the side of her hand, smiling down at her as she explains how in the street they just walked past was where her uncle and aunt used to live in “There was a gelato place there and a bakery too. And down there was a record store too, I remember Guillermo got his Jimi Hendrix record there too, for like…fourteen euros?” 

“I didn’t know Guillermo liked rock? I thought that was more of a Michael thing.”

“Don’t let my brother’s absolute neutral face fool you, Roos. Guillermo was a metal head much like Michael and Leo are. He just…tries to play he's not.” She shrugs, interlacing their fingers “He used to play guitar, I have no idea he still has it. It was a Gibson I think.”

Rooster arches his eyebrows when she says it, then smiles in disbelief “You’d never think that looking at him honestly.” He pauses for a second “I used to play guitar,” that calls her attention, turning her head up at him “Back at uni. I couldn’t take a piano so a guitar was a lot better.” 

Was she surprised her husband played more than one instrument? Yes. Was she surprised he was incredibly talented? No. “You never told me you played the guitar.” She says sweetly, her eyes widening behind her sunglasses “That’s…” really attractive “That’s really cool. Maybe we should give you a guitar for Christmas.”

Rooster chuckles, leaning down to kiss her forehead “You are too cute, but I wouldn’t complain if I got one. I could serenade you every day like that.” Beatrice’s cheeks turn red over his words, dropping her eyes from his shyly and then pressing her face against his bicep because she couldn’t hide it anywhere else. 

He smiles again before kissing the top of her head, the only thing he could see since she was hiding her face from him, “I swear you couldn’t be cuter and yet you prove me wrong every time.”

Her muffled yet whined “Stooop!” Just makes him even more amused, her head eventually lifting from where it was pressed against his arm to give him a little smile with her face still beet red “You have to stop making me blush.”

“ I did say it’s my favorite pastime, didn’t I gorgeous?” He drops his sunglasses just enough to show his eyes, giving her a wink “There’s something about making my girl blush that just pleases me.”

Beatrice smiled more, cupping his cheeks in her hands to give him a sweet kiss, the very first one since they got to Sicily. She pulls back with a smack, rubbing her thumbs over his cheekbones with her cheeks flexing in a smile “I can take that…so, are you hungry?”

“Well it is,”he checks his watch “Almost lunchtime.”

“While I like the idea of having lunch at a restaurant…I think we should have arancinis.” He looks at her in question “Fried balls of risotto rice mixed with meat and cheese and you can get ones about the size of my fist! And if I’m right, there’s a lady that sells it close by, hopefully she’s still there.” The lady was already older when Beatrice was younger, so, maybe it was someone else instead? 

Palermo, now that it was closer to lunchtime, was a lot more lively and filled with people walking around, the Italian cacophony hitting their ears as they walked through the crowd.  The lady was still there! With her granddaughter, but she was still there and the arancinis were still looking delicious.

Beatrice was so excited she couldn’t even stop herself when she handed Rooster his, quickly snatching a bite of her own as they tried to find a place to sit. They got to a piazza with a small fountain, sitting on a bench with Beatrice sighing happily with her eyes closed “I think this has to be the best thing ever.” She says while leaning on her hand. 

Her husband was still looking at the fried ball with his eyes wide, it was indeed a big fist of fried dough and crunchiness that he was still figuring out how to bite it “This is huge.” And it smelled great. 

Beatrice giggles while chewing, “Right?”she says after swallowing “You’ll love it, it’s so great, Roos.”

“Oh I know I will, I just don’t know where to bite first.” It was perfectly round, he had never seen something so shaped like an actual ball before. She just watched her husband, her Lieutenant husband who flew high up in the air for god knows how long, analyzing how to bite an arancini without spilling everything.

He was so precious.

“Roos.” She whispers, scooting closer “You just have to take a bite, it’s not going to explode everywhere.”

Bradley just gives her a look by the corner of his eye, almost as if he wanted to make sure she was serious before he does bite, making a sound of surprise when the cheese just stretches,stretches and stretches until he had to rip it off with his finger, slurping it up like a noodle. Beatrice keeps her eyes on him, waiting for his reaction and when he finally says something it doesn’t disappoint “Holy shit.”

“Right?? Right?”

“Bea this is fucking delicious, I’ve never had anything like that,”he says after licking his fingers “And I’m from Virginia we do have a variety of fried stuff. “ his constant compliments went from sweet to vulgar in the same breath, and that’s how she knew she got him hooked. 

The bench they were sitting on made it easier to people watch, Beatrice took another bite of the sinfully delicious fried ball as she took notice of the people walking by. Her eyes immediately stopped at a family of three and their dog, the little baby in the mother’s arms wiggling and giggling at nothing, just like babies did, before they turned their head to Beatrice.

Her own smile softened at the baby’s gummy grin, before the family rounded a corner and disappeared from their view. With the family gone, the thought of a child, their child returned. Not that it ever left in all honesty, ever since they talked about it Beatrice couldn’t stop having it in her mind.

A mini Rooster or even a mini Bea was quite an adorable idea. But she didn’t want to bring it up in honeymoon quite yet, in fact she didn’t think it’d be a good idea if she did. She knew Rooster wanted a baby as well, but maybe saying that now wouldn’t be a good idea at all. So she just chewed her arancini in silence, but with a tiny smile on her face.

-

“Well. No beach today.” Soon after she says it, thunder rumbles above, making her flinch and immediately step back from the glass doors, the heavy raindrops hitting the glass like bullets. After their lunch they wandered around some more until they noticed the large gray clouds forming above their heads, it was almost incredible how minutes before the sky was bright blue and birds were chirping.

Now it looked like the watery apocalypse had begun. It was raining so bad she couldn’t see the outside besides the blurred shapes of the buildings and the lights that turned on automatically as soon as the sky got dark. “It’s okay, Bea, we’ll have tomorrow.”

She turned to see him stretched on the large comfortable bed, his hands interlaced on top of his stomach and he looked like a cat that just had fresh cream…or maybe a rooster who just had fresh arancini. He looked so relaxed and happy, his little smile and the way he was blinking hard to keep himself awake was endearing. “I know…but well, it is our first honeymoon day technically so, you know…”

He turns his head towards her, then stretches his arm in her direction “Baby, c’mere.” she does with a little pout, snuggling to his side as his arm drops around her shoulders to keep her close to him “It'll be fine, we have this whole week still. Don’t worry too much, okay?”

Beatrice grinned sweetly “I’m going to try, Roos.” While pressing her cheek to his chest, hearing his heartbeat and his breathing. She looks up at him when she hears his chest move more evenly, his eyes fighting hard to stay open and his head leaning into the pillow even more “Roos?”

He snaps his eyes open “Hm? What’s happening?”

Beatrice just laughs sweetly, caressing the side of his face with her smaller hand “Nothing…I was just checking on you,” the sound of rain was indeed sleep inducing, “If you want to nap a bit that’s fine.”

He laughs tiredly, rubbing his face with one of his huge hands, inhaling deeply against his palm before yawning, “I might, are you going to nap too?”

“I don’t know, maybe. I want to stay awake for a little bit longer if I’m able to.”

“Something on your mind?”

“Not really.” she replies with her cheek on the curve of his firm chest, her hand rushing to grab his and interlace their fingers, “A bit bummed it’s raining so much though,” its her soft reply followed by a quiet chuckle, so quiet he almost didn’t hear it. “I mean, I know we’ll have more days left but, you know.”

She couldn’t see it but his eyes squinted with amusement, “You just want to see my ass.” and that earned a louder laugh from his wife, one that she didn’t try to hide, one that only faltered when she tilted her head towards him, face red.

“Can you blame me? You do the same when it comes to mine.”

“I do.” he says unashamedly, “All the time.”

Beatrice just smiles more, looking up at him with her chin propped on his pec, her eyes shifting to her left hand to see her engagement and wedding rings together, “...we are married.” she whispers, rubbing the wedding band with her thumb so it turns on her ring finger, “We really are married.”

“We are,” he replies, kissing her forehead, “I couldn’t be happier, Bea.”

“Me too it’s just…” she shakes her head with a little smile, “...sometimes I feel like I’ll wake up from a dream and none of this is real. I know it is but, I…I don’t know. I know it’s real but it's just so…” she sighs, then holds her head with her hands, looking away from him, “...I’m sorry,I don’t know what came over me.” She didn’t want to bring stuff like that during their honeymoon, with the weight of her rings on her finger, with how happy she truly was.

Rooster’s hand stops the up and down movement of his fingers along her spine, pausing right on top of her tailbone, with his eyes on her profile, “Baby,” he calls softly, seeing that her mind was already being too loud for his liking, “It’s okay.” she still avoided his eyes, choosing to look at the raindrops sliding down the glass panes, “Bea, angel, look at me.” It takes some time but she eventually turns her head to him, “You keep thinking I’m too good for you.”

Beatrice widened her eyes, her face flaming up, ‘...sometimes I guess. I know,I know it’s dumb but…” she groans,hitting her forehead repeatedly on her palms, “Sometimes I get thought like this and it fucks me up because it’s not true. But I’ve heard it so often in my life that,I-I-I just get them and I hate it, Roos. I really do. And it sucks because I don’t like feeling like this. It makes me feel…really lost.’

His eyebrows lower when she says it, then he grabs her by the waist to drag her to lie on top of him, tucking the strands of brown hair that fell from the bun, cupping her cheek while dragging his thumb underneath her eye, “Baby, it’s okay. Remember when I said your brain can say a lot of dumb shit?”

“...yeah…”

“Look,” he adjusts himself to drape her fully over his body, “I’m happy with you, you are happy with me. I’m not mad at you, I’m not. I know how hard these thoughts can haunt you. Sometimes I do get the same way.” she furrowed her eyebrows at him and he laughed softly, looking to the side, “I do, you have no idea how amazing you are. And you are just…this bright light, Bea, this bright shining light that pulled me in.”

Beatrice smiles sweetly, leaning on his hand with her eyes closed, “Baby,this is a new rodeo for both of us.” he laughs quietly, still caressing her cheek, “We are…in a complete new territory, completely blank on what to do and, you know…it’ll be hard but it won’t be impossible.”

Both of them had their demons to deal with, he knew that. He knew it was going to be something they will have to work with over time, and he knew that Beatrice would blame herself for having said thoughts, but he knew it wasn’t something it could be so easily resolved.

Boy, didn’t he know about it.

“So, here’s my deal with this. How about,” he begins, “I get us some of that gelato downstairs at the lobby so we can have a sweet treat and get our minds out of things?”

Beatrice laughs sweetly, “Okay,I will–”

“No,no, no you can stay.” he grins, kissing the tip of her nose, “I’ll bring you some, I need something sweet anyway.” 

Beatrice smiles while sitting on the bed, but nods at him. Rooster makes his way to the door, then turns around and kisses her lips slowly, just enough to make the brunette almost forget how to breathe, “Just so you remember this isn’t a dream.” he mutters against her lips, pecking one last time before he finally leaves the room.

Bradley steps out on the long hallway, shutting the door behind himself as he makes the way to the elevators, not surprised to see the hallways are completely empty considering how hard it’s been raining since early afternoon. He stepped inside the elevator while rubbing his face trying his best to keep himself awake, pressing the button to the lobby and watching the numbers go down.

In the meantime, he was reminded of Beatrice’s words. The fact she still had thoughts about him being more than she could ever deserve broke his heart, they were much less than before but it makes him angry how bad Beatrice’s romantic life was. She didn’t deserve to feel less, she didn’t deserve to feel like she couldn’t have him.

She did deserve him and as much as he had a hard time admitting himself, he deserved her too. They were both two grown adults with enough trauma to fill a pool he thought, with a little laugh, but he wanted them to work on everything together. They just got married, they had a house, they are planning on having kids soon  - something that still made him anxious yet excited at the same time - , they both needed to understand they both deserved this.

He didn’t want to tell her how often he caught himself asking how he managed to get her because he didn’t want her to get worried.  Beatrice, to him, was a wonder. She truly was one of a kind, he had never met anyone as kind and as selfless as she was, as sweet and as absolutely unaware of how sexy she could be sometimes.

Bradley is smiling when he reaches the gelato fridge, moving his eyes quickly until he finds the ones he was looking for: hazelnut chocolate and forest berries. He tosses them in the air and catches them before they land on the floor - after paying for it of course - and walks over to the elevator again. This time a group of women is walking past him, but he’s too busy checking the gelatos’ brand to pay attention, only looking up again when he’s inside the elevator.

The women were still staring, their eyes immediately dropping to the obvious wedding band on his ring finger as he holds both cups in one hand and presses the elevator’s button with his other, digging it into his pocket once he’s done. He notices the women looking and gives them a polite smile before the door closes.

They were pretty, but they weren’t Beatrice.

And he was more than happy when he got back and saw his wife fixing her dress’ strap as it slid down her shoulder, looking at him with surprise when he entered, “You found it?” she asks sweetly, still trying to keep the strap in the same spot, “God dang it.”

“What’s the matter?” he asks while putting the gelatos away on the desk by the corner of the room but his eyes still drop to the bare curve of her shoulder.

“I think I probably ripped a thread that kept the strap a bit tighter, it keeps falling off.” she huffs, standing up from the bed to the bathroom, “I’ll just have a quick look.”

Rooster immediately placed the gelatos inside the mini freezer and followed her to the bathroom, deciding that maybe he should focus on something else. He stops by the doorframe, where he sees Beatrice wearing only her undergarments - light blue lace this time, almost as if she wanted to match with her dress, God. - while narrowing her eyes to the dress strap, “Oh I think I can fix this,” she whispers, almost triumphantly, not seeing Rooster’s tall form sneak behind her, “I have a mini sewing kit–!” she squeaks in surprise when his strong arms wrap around her waist and his chin is nestled on the curve of her shoulder, “Roos.”

He just smiles, looking at their reflection and how the way his arms wrapped around her waist pushed her breasts higher and closer together, “I can’t help myself.” he whispers, kissing the curve of her jawline and then nuzzling her neck, which makes Beatrice’s lips curl into a shy smile, hands still holding onto the dress, bringing it up to her chest.

Rooster then props his chin on her shoulder again, “You are so beautiful.” Beatrice drops her head with the same shy smile, focusing on the dress’ pattern with her face a bright red, “How can you be this beautiful?”

“Roos.” she whispers sweetly, looking at him by the corner of her eye, “You are still making me blush.”

“I know.” he whispers back, meeting her lips in a sweet kiss, “I told you it’s my favorite thing to do.” Beatrice giggles against his mouth, pecking him repeatedly and giggling even more when he pulls her closer to his chest, “I got us our desserts.”

“Yeah?”she smiles, “Let me just get dre–”

“You can stay like this.”

“Get dressed.” she emphasizes with an amused grin, “And I’ll meet you outside, I can fix the strap after.” the sound of thunder from outside makes the two of them look up in surprise, “It’ll probably rain the whole night.”

“Yeah. But it’s fine,if it gets lighter we can get an umbrella from the hotel.” She nods after he suggests it, then gives him a look when his arms don’t move from around her, “What? Oh.” he slowly, almost too slow, removes his arms from her waist, “Sorry ma’am, I’m going to let you get dressed now,” he turns to leave, but not before slapping her ass cheek, enough to make the flesh bounce under the impact, “I mean, do you really need to get dressed?”

“Bradley Nicholas.”

He holds his hands up in defense, still looking at her bare butt with his lips pursed, “Just a suggestion, baby. No ill intent towards it.” but his head remains tilted, watching the perfect red hand print form on her pale cheek until she closes the bathroom door.

[free-pool-trash]

x of swords - george weasley

part one of three

Summary: Growing up as Harry’s neighbor, you always believed that you were completely regular. In an attempt to feel closer to Harry (your best friend) you begin to dabble in the art of divination and, in the process, you uncover magic that you didn’t know you had. (i hate doing summaries this does not sum it up but you get the jist)

Relationships: George Weasley x Reader, platonic!Harry Potter x Reader, platonic!OC x Reader, platonic!Sirius Black x Reader, platonic!Remus Lupin x Reader, platonic!Fred Weasley x Reader, platonic!Nymphadora Tonks x Reader, platonic!Molly Weasley x Reader, platonic!Hermoine Granger x Reader, Sirius Black x Remus Lupin

Warnings: Swearing, anxiety, fluff, angst, mentions of torture, mentions of death (let me know if I missed anything!)

Word count: 22.9k 

so here it is 😏 i was going to wait until i was completely finished with this to post it but i didn’t wanna rush it and oh my god it’s already so long  😫 I’m moving to Edinburgh in 2 weeks so i won’t be able to write as i have so much to pack so i hope this keeps some of you happy for a while <3 obviously i put a lot of effort into this and spent a lot of time on it so i really hope yall like it and i will personally kiss everyone who comments. likes or reblogs <3

mastelist

Life on Privet Drive was definitely something- something being incredibly boring. Nothing even remotely exciting happened on the street and the company was, to put it simply, miserable.

You’d lived in 5 Privet Drive since birth which, unfortunately for you, meant that your family are extremely close with the Dursleys who live next door. The Dursleys are a family of bigoted, pig-headed bullies. Made up of Petunia, Vernon, Dudley and, in your opinion the only tolerable one, Harry.

From the age of five, Harry had been your only friend on the street and vice versa. Initially, the both of you had bonded over your dislike of Dudley but as the years rolled on Harry and yourself had become virtually inseparable.

It was certainly strange- how close your parents were with Petunia and Vernon. Your mother and father are actually quite lovely, they are the complete opposite of the Dursleys, they’re open minded, kind and extremely friendly. But, you supposed, their friendliness didn’t discriminate from person to person, even if said person forced their orphaned nephew to sleep in the cupboard underneath the stairs.

There was no denying that Harry had been miserable with the Dursleys, who were unfortunately his only remaining family and you supposed you should’ve been happy when your best friend finally got away from them after his 11th birthday.

You’d missed him for the entire school year and you only got a chance to ask where he’d actually gone off to when he’d arrived home for the summer. (You didn’t believe the story Vernon had spun about Harry attending a boarding school for juvenile trouble makers).

“It’s incredible, (Y/n), honestly! I wish you could be there too.” He’d told you when you finally saw him again, after he’d finished his first year in his mysterious boarding school.

“That’s great, Haz, but where exactly is it?” You wondered and Harry only gave you his signature grin.

“Scotland.”

With a heavy sigh you let the subject go, he was clearly happy wherever he was going to school so it didn’t matter where or what it was. As long as he was happy.

By the time his 12th birthday rolled around you’d found the perfect gift for him. You’d made your parents buy you a polaroid camera for him to take away to school, he’d told you so many amazing stories about his school, you wanted to see some of it for yourself so you figured a camera would be the best course of action.

The morning of his birthday, Harry was woken up by the sound of pebbles tapping against his barred up window. The boy looked out to see you waving at him, an excited smile on your face and a neatly wrapped present in your other hand. Harry couldn’t stop the smile that formed on his face as you beckoned him down with your hand. It was barely dawn but you knew better than to give a present for Harry to either his aunt or uncle because they’d only give it to Dudley, so it was best to get it to him before the rest of his supposed family woke up.

Hogwarts was amazing and Harry was over the moon to have discovered he was a wizard and make so many new friends, but he had missed you- his only friend in the muggle world. Your birthday was only a few weeks after his and he hoped that maybe you’d get a hogwarts letter of your own, obviously that hadn’t happened. Nonetheless he was happy to see you in the summer, he couldn’t shake the thought that Ron and Hermione would have loved to meet you though.

Slowly and quietly, Harry snook down the stairs and out the front door to meet you.

“Happy birthday, Haz!” You whisper-shouted excitedly, pulling the green-eyed boy into your house so he wouldn’t get caught outside when he wasn’t even allowed out of his bedroom.

Harry rolled his eyes at the nickname, “I hope you know that you’re still the only person who calls me that.”

“Good,” you said happily, closing the front door behind you. “Anyway, I got you something that you can bring away to school with you!” He rose an eyebrow at you as you pushed the carefully wrapped box into his hands, “Open it,” you instructed. And so he did.

It was very possibly the most expensive gift he’d ever gotten, you (or your parents) usually got Harry presents that couldn’t be stolen by Dudley. For example, your mother had taken to buying Harry his own clothes, seeing as your best friend was a lot taller and thinner than his horrid cousin.

You, on the other hand, would usually make him gifts with sentimental value, something Dudley had absolutely zero interest in. The camera though, you knew would be safe as Harry would be leaving for school again soon enough.

Harry stared dumbfounded at the cardboard box that held the rather large polaroid camera, judging by the image on the box it was a good quality thing, probably expensive. “This is… really nice, (Y/n).”

A bright smile found your lips as you rushed into an animated explanation about why you’d picked a camera as his birthday present this year.

“So you can take lots of pictures of you and your new friends in your new fancy private school and when you come back here you can show them to me!” Harry chuckled and nodded his head, hoping he’d be able to find time to take pictures like you wanted.

“I’ll take pictures of everything. Promise.” He told you, holding out his pinky with a cheeky grin. You linked your pinky with his and nodded gratefully.

“We should christen it,” Harry announced, tearing into the box and he quickly set the camera up before he pointed it at you expectantly. “Well, come on then. I’ve told my school friends all about you, they’re going to want to see what you look like too. So, smile-“ with a disbelieving laugh, you crossed your legs underneath yourself from where you were sitting on the floor across from Harry, and tucked your hair behind your ears before you looked directly at the lense of the camera and gave it the brightest smile you could muster. The camera flashed and the picture slowly revealed itself, it seemed to be good enough to satisfy Harry’s twelve year old self.

He’d shown the polaroid to Hermione first, the bushy haired girl had smiled softly as she held the polaroid gently, “She seems lovely, Harry.”

Harry had nodded his head in agreement, you were lovely. He just hoped Dudley wasn’t terrorising you too much while he was away. His cousin always had somewhat of a crush on you, which Harry knew was ridiculous considering you all but loathed Dudley.

True to his word, Harry had taken plenty of pictures, many were of (non-magic) areas of the Hogwarts campus, many were of his friends; Ron, Hermione, Fred and George Weasley (who had an absolute field day with the muggle contraption), one or two of Hagrid and he even managed to capture a nice one of the owlery. Although you were one of his best friends, sometimes thinking about you while he was in Hogwarts brought his mood down. It reminded him of how much he wished you could’ve shared in his adventures and not to mention how much he missed you, you could hardly send him an owl, what with being a muggle and all, so he only got to spend time with you during the summer months.

Things had changed during his third year, though. When he received a rather shocking, albeit very welcome, letter.

Dear Harry,

I’d like to start by saying: hi, how are you? How’s school? Good? Great. Now that that’s out of the way… when you come home I’m going to KILL you!!! I cannot believe you didn’t tell me you are a wizard! Well, I understand why you didn’t but anyway.

You’re probably wondering how I found all of this out. Long story short, I saw Vernon’s sister floating around your sitting room and then I saw you running out swinging a wand around. I put two and two together. You would not believe how long it took me to figure out how to get in contact with you. I practically had to beg Dudley to tell me how to get this package to you, he eventually told me how in exchange for a kiss on the cheek. It was as horrifying as it sounds, the things I do for you, Haz, honestly. Don’t worry though, you can make it up to me over the summer.

I bought an owl by the way. I’m guessing she found you okay? Look after her for a little while before sending her back will you? She’s just a baby so she can’t do too much long distance travel just yet.The lady I got her from is a witch, she was very kind and knew exactly what I was looking to use an owl for. Her name is Astra (the owl’s not the lady’s)! Isn’t she lovely?

Moving on from that, I felt bad forcing you to send me pictures and getting nothing in return so I have decided to very kindly grace you with my exhilaratingly normal life. You will also find I sent you some of those sweets you like.

Tell Ron and Hermione that I said hi! Oh and Fred and George too! Get into lots of trouble for me ;) I suppose I better stop rambling now, sorry about that I’m just excited (and i might be missing you… just a tiny bit!)

Write back to me soon, if you can! Tell Astra I’m proud of her for making her first delivery! (give her plenty of treats for me yeah?)

I’ll let you get back to your wizardy stuff now, Haz.

Lots of love,

(Y/n) xoxo

P.s. your magical secret is safe with me. promise.

Harry looked up from your letter with a dazed smile, your new little owl was looking at him expectantly, no doubt awaiting her treat, “Good job, Astra. Your owner says she’s very proud of you,” he informed her, handing her a piece of bacon from his breakfast plate and laughed when she hooted happily.

Astra is a gorgeous little tawny, she has brown and white feathers that were fluffy to the touch. Harry could already tell she was well suited to you though, she was friendly as anything with the most curious eyes he’d ever seen.

“Whose it from?” Ron grunted from beside him, munching happily on his huge breakfast.

Harry let out a short laugh, digging into the envelope to pull out the photos and sweets you’d sent, “(Y/n).”

“I thought she didn’t know about you?” Hermione asked from beside Ron, Harry only shrugged.

“She figured it out. She’s quite clever, I think you’d like her Hermione. She says hi by the way.” He answered somewhat distantly, distracted by the pictures you’d sent, all of which had writing on the backs. He paused on one photo, he guessed one of your parents had taken it, you were stood in the woods, surrounded by trees with a huge smile on your face, your eyes were closed and your nose was scrunched up as a very tiny Astra seemed to be nibbling at your ear affectionately.

“I’m sure we’d get along, I admire her determination, really. And she even bought an owl?” The girl questioned, reaching over and petting Astra gently.

Harry’s smile was gentle as Astra hopped onto his shoulder, “Yeah, suppose she did.”

“Alright! I’m gonna say it!” George Weasley exclaimed, plucking the photo of you from Harry’s grasp, he held it between himself and Fred, the older twin had somehow swiped the letter you’d written. “Harry’s girlfriend back home is quite cute, don’t you think, Freddie?” Fred nodded resolutely, pushing the letter into George’s face as he pointed towards a specific line.

“I have to agree and look, Georgie, she told Harry to tell us that she says hi! Ugh, such a darling,” Fred fake swooned and Harry felt his face heat up while George made kissy faces.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Yeah, you had opened Harry up to a whole new world of teasing yet somehow he didn’t mind.

“Oi, do you think she’d like some of our Weasley products?” George asked genuinely, wiggling his eyebrows. Harry shuddered at the thought of you getting a hold of anything that Fred and George had created, because yes, you would like some magical pranking products. You had quite a talent for mischief, only in Harry’s worst nightmares would the Weasley twins ever get their hands on you.

Harry shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, “Dunno.”

“She single?” Fred asked jokingly and Harry scrunched his face up. He supposed you were single, though, he’d never really pictured you with anyone. He felt quite protective over you, but he supposed he'd like to see you happy with someone he approved of- or alternatively; anyone but Dudley.

“Think so,” Harry told him with another shrug before a cheeky grin spread across his lips, as he focused his attention on the twins who were nudging each other in mock victory, “Why? Should I write home and tell her the esteemed Weasley twins have a crush on her?”

George was the first the speak, he nodded, completely serious and Harry found himself worrying that perhaps one of the Weasley twins would get his hands on you.

“Yes. Absolutely,” Fred snorted and said no more, allowing his younger twin to continue the girl based antics seeing as Fred’s actual crush, Angelina, had started to glare. “In fact, give her my name. Tell her to write to me next time, eh?”

Harry’s eyes widened, oh Merlin, George was serious.

“Oh sod off, would you? The poor girl is a muggle, she’d throw herself off the astronomy tower if she got stuck with either of you prats.” Ron said through a laugh, none of them could deny it was quite funny, even Hermione had to bite back a smile at the chaos your simple letter had caused.

Around two weeks had passed until Astra returned to you, two letters attached to her leg this time.

You greeted her with a warm smile as she landed on the inside of you window, “Welcome home, pretty lady! Did you have a nice trip?” You cooed, patting her feathers and giggling when she nuzzled her head against your fingers. Having a magical owl as a pet was weird, but still, you seemed to be managing her okay.

Astra hooted happily, as if informing you that she did, in fact, have a nice trip. “That’s good! Let me take these letters off and you can have a well deserved rest, I’ve made a nice nest up for you,” you rambled softly as you untied the string that was holding the letters to her leg.

Astra hooted, hopping onto your arm and allowing you to place her on the plush pile of pillows and blankets which she immediately made herself comfortable upon, once again hooting in content when you placed a handful of treats in front of her.

You assumed that both letters were from Harry until you noticed the messy handwriting that covered one of the envelopes, handwriting that definitely didn’t belong to Harry. Besides, never, even in the furthest reaches of your imagination, would your best friend ever refer to you as; “Harry’s Pretty Neighbour”. You set that one to the side for the time being and focused on the letter you knew to actually be from Harry.

Dear (Y/n),

Hi. Sorry I didn’t tell you I was a wizard. If it makes you feel better I was actually planning on telling you this summer, but thank you for saving me from that conversation. I miss you too (only a tad). I hope you’re having a good school year so far, it’s been pretty chaotic here but I promise I’ll tell you every single tiny detail when we see each other at the end of May!

Did Astra get home okay? She’s a really lovely owl, she took quite a liking to George who (terrifyingly) has taken quite a liking to you. He’s been badgering me all week for “permission” to write to you, in his words, “just to say hello.” I think you’d actually get along but he and the rest of his family are very magic oriented, I’d be surprised if he didn’t scare you away… the pair of you together would be my worst nightmare. Don’t even get me started on how I’d feel if Fred was in the mix too. I’m tired just thinking about it.

Thank you for the sweets they were lovely, I put a chocolate frog in the envelope for you, it’s a really popular sweet in the wizarding world- don’t freak out when it hops, it’s just a charm the frog isn’t really alive.

I enjoyed the pictures too, I put a few in this letter for you too, the polaroid is running out of film but it should be enough to keep me going until the end of term.

Write to me again soon, I like hearing from you.

Take care,

Harry.

P.S. I’m really sorry you had to kiss Dudley, I’ll do something to make it up to you. Promise.

P.P.S. If George OR Fred manage to write to you PLEASE don’t eat anything they give you.

With a laugh you set the letter down beside you. Curiously, you reached a hand into the ivory envelope and pulled out the peculiarly shaped chocolate box as well as the polaroids. You viewed the photos with a fond smile, Harry always looked so happy, even with whatever chaos was happening around him. Wizard school definitely made your best friend the happiest he’d ever been.

Opening the next letter, which you now guessed judging by Harry’s letter, came from George Weasley, Harry’s friend Ron’s older brother. That was all you knew about him. You let out a gasp once you opened the seal, a small show of tiny fireworks shot out, exploding in balls of reds and oranges across your bedroom before they disappeared as if they’d never been there in the first place.

Slightly frazzled, yet amazed, you cautiously plucked the letter from the envelope and began reading.

Hello, Harry’s Pretty Neighbour.

I hope you enjoyed the show, hopefully it didn’t startle you too much… I’m not exactly sure what muggles are used to… if it did scare you I’m sorry.

Anyway, just wanted to say hi. Promised Harry I wouldn’t spook you, he’s quite protective of you, you know. It’s very sweet.

I don’t blame him, though. If I had a friend as pretty as you I’d be protective too ;)

Don’t break my heart, write back?

Yours truly,

George Weasley x

And that had been the start of it. Two years had passed since you’d discovered the wizarding world and it seemed as though things had simultaneously gotten worse and better. As it turns out, your lifelong best friend was some sort of prophetic hero in the wizard community and on top of that it seemed that there was a war brewing that he would be expected to lead.

Of course, you were completely useless as you don’t possess the ability to perform magic which also means you're at risk of being hate crimed by some classist, wizard, blood supremacists? You weren’t sure. But Harry was worried.

You’d been writing back and forth to a few of Harry’s Hogwarts friends (your friends now too) for a long while now, you’d even gotten a chance to finally meet them when you’d gone with the Dursleys to collect Harry from King’s Cross Station.

You got along best with Hermione seeing as she was raised similarly to yourself and Harry. However, of all of Harry’s school mates, you liked George the most. Everyone could have predicted it really, you’d been writing to each other constantly and the second you’d clapped eyes on each other in the flesh he’d broken out in a run to crush you in a hug. Harry had groaned at the sight of the pair of you, smiling widely at each other, seeming to slot together perfectly. He had to laugh about it now though, if things went well with Ginny he supposed you’d probably end up being his sister-in-law, assuming his predictions of George falling completely in love with you were correct (they were, he knew).

All air of laughter or wizard/muggle romances was gone at the moment however. You and Harry sat alongside each other, your hand holding his loosely between the swings you were sat on, he’d be going into his 5th year at Hogwarts soon, he’d yet to recover from the last. He’d made a friend only for that friend to be killed right in front of him. He’d almost been murdered himself for God’s sake.

“If you don’t feel safe, Haz… maybe, I don’t know? Don’t go back?” You suggested weakly, knowing he’d never do such a thing. As you expected, Harry shook his head and looked at you solemnly.

“Can’t. Not now that he’s back.” With a sigh you squeezed his hand.

“They should be paying you for this, you know,” Harry chuckled then, squeezing your hand in return.

���I’m doing this for you too. To keep you safe.” He admitted and you sighed miserably.

“I wish I could be of more help.” Harry scoffed, his green eyes shining with pure disbelief as he stared at you.

“More help? (Y/n) you must be joking…” he trailed off as you shook your head, you weren’t joking, you hated that you couldn’t help Harry through this, for once you knew there was nothing you could do to improve the situation in any way that would make an impact, “Oi. Look at me,” Harry demanded, no trace of the usual awkward sarcasm to be heard when he spoke.

You let your eyes meet his again and watched how they seemed to soften when he took in how utterly defenceless you looked, “If it hadn’t been for you, the first ten years of my life would’ve been an even worse hell than they already were. You were the only good thing and you’re still the only good thing about being back in this place.”

He watched sadly as your eyes fell to the floor again, “Besides, the sooner we get this mess with Voldemort sorted out, the sooner you and George Weasley can navigate the whole muggle/wizard romance thing.”

At his statement you barked out a laugh and Harry let himself smile too, “Shut up, Potter. S’not like that.”

Harry laughed then too, “Oh it is so like that, (N/n).”

“It so isn’t.” You grumbled, but your little smile confirmed to Harry that it absolutely was like that.

“Okay. Fine, please then do tell, what is going on between you and the infamous George Weasley?” Harry challenged, revelling in the way your cheeks burned with embarrassment. He let out a low chuckle when you shrugged shyly and kicked the stones beneath your feet.

“I don’t know… We write to each other a lot, and I think he’s really interesting and funny and sweet and of course I think he’s fit. But, I don’t know,” you bit your lip as Harry listened to you, he found it quite endearing. “I just don’t see how it would work. I like him, yeah, but…” Harry scoffed again as you trailed off. He hated seeing you feeling so insecure, Harry was clueless about a lot of things, but he knew exactly how much his best friend was worth- more than all the gold in Gringott’s.

“Ok as your best mate, and as someone who is very close with the Weasley family, I’m telling you that he’s mad about you. All he ever does is ask me about you, Fred is completely sick of him. He’s even told Molly about you, which is truly a commitment believe me,” Harry started, growing more content with the more bashful you became, “And didn’t he write to you just before the Yule Ball to tell you that he was going with Katie Bell as a friend but he wanted to tell you just incase you heard it from someone else and he didn’t want you to get the wrong idea?” Finally, you were back to fighting a smile.

“Yeah he did.”

“Well there you go. But seriously he hasn’t dated or even so much as looked at anyone else since he met you. Which I’ll be honest is super annoying for me but you deserve someone who thinks you hung the stars in the sky.”

A mock gasp left your lips and you released his hand to place it over your chest in faux hurt, “You mean to tell me you don’t think I hung the stars in the sky? I’m hurt, Harry. I think I’ll have to rat you out to Mrs. Weasley.”

Harry laughed but the lighthearted atmosphere didn’t last long before Dudley had shown up with his little gang of bullies, all of whom made fun of Harry’s nightmares.

It was then things had taken a turn for the worst, the sky turned black and storm clouds completely blocked out the previously scorching sun. You looked to Harry for answers but he seemed to be seeing something that you couldn’t, all you knew was that it had become unbearably cold, a feeling of misery making a home in your bones as Harry rushed to pull you to your feet.

“Run! Come on!” He shouted, clutching your hand tightly in his and sprinting through the neighbourhood until you, Harry and Dudley found yourselves struggling to catch a breath in a graffiti covered tunnel.

A terrified yelp left your throat as what you’d been running from revealed itself to you.

Several floating, cloaked shadowy figures swooped into the tunnel on both sides, their hands decaying and boney, their presence leaving you with the feeling that you’d never know positively ever again.

Harry had effectively used his body to cage you against the wall of the tunnel, his back pressed firmly against your chest, your own back pressed to the cold concrete wall, his wand was at the ready as the creatures approached rapidly.

“Don’t look at them.” Harry instructed, protecting you first as you watched in horror as one of the creatures seemed to be ripping Dudley’s essence straight out of his body.

It only took Harry a few painfully long seconds to take care of the creature in front of the pair of you, you’d wished you’d taken his advice and buried your head in his shoulder so you wouldn’t see the monstrous creatures before you, yet, you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away from Dudley.

The rest happened in a blur, Harry had yet to let go of your hand as it (and your entire body) shook violently. Demontors broke even the strongest of wizards, Harry knew that as a muggle who’d never seen a magical creature, other than an owl, you’d react negatively.

“If it makes you feel any better, I used to faint every time I saw a dementor.” You nodded numbly, giving Dudley a side glance of concern while he mumbled incoherently to himself.

“Is he alright?” You questioned meekly, voice shaking. You were still freezing and the all too familiar feeling of uselessness didn’t do anything to help you regain your inner warmth.

Harry nodded, “He will be.”

“The ministry will be after my head for using magic outside of school,” he told you after a few minutes, squeezing your hand lightly for the umpteenth time, “So I’m gonna have to go away for a while. Probably tonight. Eat some chocolate, it should stop the shaking.” He told you, you hadn’t even noticed you’d reached Privet Drive.

“And they won’t-“ your breath got caught in your throat and your eyes filled with fear, “The dementors. They won’t come back, will they?”

Harry shook his head, “No. But come on, we should get you inside before the ministry shows up and tries to obliviate you.” His final words came out as more of a mumble than an actual sentence as he passed a bumbling Dudley over to Petunia and Vernon before steering you down your own driveway.

“You better not have broken her too, boy!” You vaguely registered Vernon’s voice shouting in your and Harry’s direction.

Your parents were away on holiday at the moment, in Spain. They’d wanted you to come but you hadn’t wanted to miss Harry’s visit, so when you shakily managed to open the door the house was completely dark, you weren’t sure at what point night had fallen.

Harry closed the door behind himself and made his way into your kitchen, the boy rifled through your sweet press before his hand finally settled on what he was looking for. A triumphant sort of yell left his lips as he pulled a bar of chocolate out of the cupboard.

While Harry tossed the bar onto the counter and busied himself with boiling the kettle, you stood in the hallway still, completely rigid.

“Come on, (Y/n). Sit down.” He urged gently, not turning around. Wordlessly, you fully entered the kitchen and slid into a chair facing Harry.

“Don’t you have better things to be doing than making me tea?” You wondered, setting your hands on the table and fidgeting with your icy fingers. Obviously, you appreciated Harry’s fussing but with the way he was talking about the ministry earlier you were sure he had more important things to worry about.

Harry only faced you once he was finished making your tea. He carried the hot cup and the previously discarded bar of chocolate over to you, he placed them both on the table before giving you a hard look, “I’m looking after you first. I’ll deal with everything else later.”

“I used to be the one who took care of you.” You said through a sigh, taking a sip of the hot tea and slumping against your seat as you began to heat up on the inside again.

Harry let out a low chuckle, “Oh how the tables have turned.”

“I liked it better the other way.” You complained, munching on a square of chocolate.

“Trust me, so did I,” Harry groaned, standing up and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, “Don’t worry though, (N/n). Have a sneaking feeling that you’ll be looking after me again soon enough.”

You patted the hand he had clamped on your shoulder in appreciation, “Thank you, though, for looking after me.”

“Course. I better go. I don’t want you getting roped into anything else tonight,” he said with a sad smile and you nodded in understanding, “We probably won’t see each other for a while but I’ll write. Is Astra back from Cecilia's yet?” Celillia is the witch you’d gotten Astra from in the first place, the pair of you had kept in touch and she’d recently offered to try and teach you some basic divination skills, she claimed that, “Being a wizard isn’t exactly a requirement” and you desperately needed something, anything, to make you feel more connected to your friends in the wizarding world. You supposed you’d need to plan a trip to her cottage soon, after tonight you definitely needed some of her wisdom.

“No, not yet. She flew straight there from the burrow so I suppose she’s probably resting,” you informed him distantly, still clutching his hand, “You’ll be careful, won’t you?”

Harry squeezed your shoulder and let out a deep breath, “I’ll try my best. Promise,” with that he lifted his hand from your shoulder and extended his pinky to you, you gladly linked it with your own. Harry noted, very gratefully, that the warmth had now returned to your hands and you’d stopped shaking so violently.

“Send me a letter once Astra gets back, alright? I’ll keep you updated on what’s going on over on my side.” You agreed before walking Harry to the door, hugging him tightly and watching as he approached the Dursley’s front door.

As predicted, Harry, George, Hermione and Cecillia had let you know that the wizarding world was crumbling fast. Admittedly you were worried about your wizard friends, but Cecillia had done a great job of keeping you distracted by keeping you buried under heaps of divination books, tarot cards and crystal guidebooks. As it turns out, though, you had quite the talent for making accurate detailed predictions.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were descended from a powerful seer,” she’d written to you in awe after you’d managed to predict exactly how a date of hers would go without missing a single detail.

Reading tarot cards quickly became one of your favourite hobbies to indulge in when you weren’t in school. You’d made the mistake of telling George about it in a recent letter, Harry already knew and he also knew that there was no point telling you that he didn’t have a heap of faith in divination. George however was having a field day with the new information.

The older boy teased you at every chance he got, but it was all in good fun as in every letter he sent, you’d find a page that he’d ripped out of his own divination book, the pages would be crinkled and have messy notes scribbled along the margins, with explanations over words that he knew you wouldn’t understand as a muggle. They were actually really helpful. Aside from all the teasing he found it quite endearing that you were trying to get familiar with some form of magic. Even if it was a form of magic wizards tended to ridicule.

He’d been quite worried about you, Harry told him about the dementors and how you’d been quite shaken up after your encounter with them. He’d written to you on a weekly basis, constantly checking in on you, making absolutely sure that no more dementors paid you a visit. He and Harry both kept you up to date with the constant and seemingly never ending rules being imposed upon them by their new headmaster, or headmistress; Delores Umbridge. George also disclosed to you all about his and Fred’s plan to leave Hogwarts and pursue their lifelong dream of opening a joke shop. You had nothing but faith in the twins, really. Your complete faith in them hadn’t stopped you from sending George a handful of crystals that you believed would help his and his shop’s success. He’d teased you relentlessly in each letter since he’d received your package containing citrine, tiger’s eye, amazonite, aventurine and smokey quartz. What he hadn’t mentioned since receiving your little gifts, is that he’d been carrying the five crystals around in their little orange mesh drawstring bag in his pocket everywhere he went. He had to give credit where credit is due and, to be fair to you and your holistic ways, he hadn’t run into any serious obstacles since he started carrying the gems around.

November through June had brought forth a plethora of unfortunate events. You were practically swimming in school work which left you with no time to write to Harry, or even practice tarot. As well as that, you’d been having nightmares, although Cecillia had warned that these dreams could hold some sort of prophesies within them, you highly doubted that though, you weren’t a wizard, only a muggle. Whether prophetic or not, the nightmares plagued you, keeping you up at night or waking you at all hours of the morning.

On one particular morning, you’d awoken with a gasp. Sweat coated your face, soaked your pillow cases and caused your legs to stick to your blankets in a way not even the June heat could've caused. Your heart pounded against your ribcage, tears welled in your eyes, and your body shook as violently as it had the night you’d come face to face with the dementors of Azkaban. The unadulterated fear coursing through your bloodstream suggested that perhaps this bad dream had been something more than simply that.

As fast as you could manage in your panicked state, you dragged your body out of bed and stumbled towards your light switch, flicking it on before haphazardly ripping a sheet out of the refill pad on your desk, grabbing a pen and beginning to scribble down the dream that you could only describe as a warning.

Your laboured breaths stirred Astra from her slumber, the tawny hooted tiredly, hopping out of her cage and fluttering over to your shoulder, settling there as you wrote.

Harry,

I hope this letter reaches you in time. I might sound completely mad but something terrible may be about to happen. I’ve been having these horrific dreams over the last few months, I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry but Cecillia suspects they’re premonitions and I’m terrified she may be right. I’ve just woken up, it’s around 2am and if I’m lucky, Astra should get this letter to you before 6am…

Onto the dream, you were there and you were asleep, I was standing by your bed, it was a four-poster sort of thing, the room was decorated in mostly red and gold. You woke up panicked, you looked completely overwhelmed and you began shouting about your Godfather Sirius, about how he was in trouble… From then on I watched the day play out. You, Hermoine, Ron, Ginny, a boy with brown hair I’ve never met, I think you called him Neville in my dream, and a blonde girl- Luna I think you called her, you all went to the ministry to rescue Sirius and find some kind of prophecy. Harry you have to listen to me, you mustn’t go, it’s a trick, Voldemort planted it in your head and if you go you’ll only put Sirius in harm’s way. But, knowing you, you’re gonna go anyway… so here’s my advice: keep your eyes open for the witch Bellatrix. Keep Sirius away from the veil and please please please, be careful.

I’m heading to Cecillia’s cottage for the day and maybe even the next couple of days, send Astra there when you find time to write back.

I hope I’m wrong but if I’m not; good luck, Harry. I love you and if you don’t look after yourself the dark lord will be the least of your worries.

Lots of love,

Y/n.

Folding up the letter and placing it in a stray envelope, you addressed it and gently tied it to your loyal owl’s leg. “I’m gonna need you to go as fast as you can to get this to Harry, okay Astra?” She hooted with what you guessed to be determination before she set off, out into the night. Thankfully for you, now that your owl was occupied, you knew Cecillia owned a telephone so you’d have no problems contacting her. While writing to Harry, you’d left out a few details about the dream. You conveniently forget to mention that you’d watched his only remaining family member killed at the hand’s of Bellatrix, it had looked so terrifyingly real that your mind couldn’t have possibly conjured it up all by itself. You also failed to mention hearing Harry’s agonising scream as Sirius fell, the noise was nearly deafening. Seeing Sirius, a man you’d only seen in pictures, die and watching your best friend mourn for him was, well, traumatising. There was no way you’d get a wink of sleep for the remainder of the night, so, you quietly tiptoed downstairs and made a call.

The line rang three times before Cecillia’s voice sounded, chirpy as ever despite the late hour, “Hello?”

“Sorry to call so late,” was all you managed, your voice although shaky was immediately identified by the much older witch.

You could nearly see the soft smile on her youthful face as she spoke, “Ah, Y/n my darling, no worries at all! How is my favourite student doing at half two in the morning?”

“Not well, I’ve had another vision. I think you might’ve been right about the dreams being prophetic,” you told her, willing your voice not to crack as the image of your bad dreams crept into your mind once again.

Cecillia let out a gentle hum, “Shall I apparate over? You don’t sound in the highest of spirits, darling.”

“Yes please,” you answered simply and within seconds Cecillia was standing before you, a worried furrow in her brow and her ashy brown hair disheveled from apparating to you in such a hurry. How could she not? You were, after all, her protégé.

“Oh, darling. You look terribly shaken up, come, come, let’s get you some water,” she fretted, guiding you to your kitchen, magically flicking on the light with her wand and filling up a glass of water, with a few flicks of her wrist the glass had floated over to your usual seat at the table, meanwhile Cecillia had stirred you into the wooden chair adjacent the glass.

Wordlessly, the witch peeled your damp hair away from your face and secured it back with a crocodile clip shaped like a huge golden bumble bee, it’s wings adorned with glittering gems. The bee sat comfortably in your hair as Cecillia finally sat down beside you, she made herself comfortable on the kitchen chair, crossing one leg over the other, resting her elbow on the table and using it to prop her cheek up. Her wide green eyes stared at you sympathetically, watching intently as you sipped your water.

“I’m assuming your loyal familiar is sleeping soundly?” She wondered, referring to Astra. You shook your head, simultaneously swallowing a gulp of water before responding verbally.

“I sent her with a letter to Harry, it was more of a warning really,” Cecillia nodded her head, signalling you to go on, “I dreamt of Harry and his friends going to the Ministry of Magic to rescue Sirius Black, but it was a trap. When they got there they were ambushed by dark wizards and Sirius well he…” you trailed off, eyes growing distant and unfocused when the sight of the man being murdered reentered your mind’s eye. A gentle hand on your shoulder pulled you back to the present.

“This one was far worse than the others then?”

You nodded, “It didn’t feel like a dream, cecillia. It was like I was actually standing there but I couldn’t do anything to help though… as per usual,” you muttered bitterly, receiving a harsh squeeze to your shoulder in response.

Cecillia fixed you with a maternal glare, “None of that! You potentially saved a life tonight. And, as I effortlessly predicted since the moment I met you, you’ve got the magical gift of sight,” her hard look melted into something more forgiving as she spoke, “You’re much more than just a muggle. You may have been an extremely late bloomer, but, you’re a witch and a seer at that. A peculiar case indeed, although in the wizarding world stranger things have happened,” the old witch told you proudly, eyes shining with glee as your own filled with confusion.

“How do we know the dream will even come true?” You questioned.

Cecillia simply shrugged and offered you a cheeky grin, “I trust your feelings, darling.”

True to your initial feeling, you hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep, you knew you wouldn’t be able to rest until you found out whether or not your dream had come to fruition. Cecillia remained by your side throughout the night, eventually the sun had risen and your parents descended down the stairs, neither of them were surprised to see Cecillia sitting at the kitchen table. They saw her as an odd woman, very kind and perfectly lovely, but odd. You’d told them that she owned an animal sanctuary and that you’d been volunteering with her, it wasn’t too far fetched really, she had given you an owl after all, not to mention the amount of cats that hung around her cottage.

She explained to your parents that she needed your help at ‘the sanctuary’ for the next few days and that she’d drop you home once the work was finished. It hadn’t been a problem, so you traveled to Cecillia’s cottage after getting dressed and packing an overnight bag (full to the brim with tarot decks and only some clothes).

It was nearly 8 in the evening when Cecillia sauntered into her living room, where you were sitting, sporting a knowing grin, she held a piece of parchment in one hand and an unopened envelope in the other.

Jovially, she plopped herself down beside you, obviously doing her very best to contain a huge grin from forming on her face. Wordlessly, she placed the envelope on your lap with a mere, “For you.”

On the envelope you could tell by the handwriting that it had come from Harry. This was definitely a make or break moment for you. The contents of this letter would either confirm that you did in fact have magic, or, they would be responsible for causing you to experience a seismic amount of embarrassment. Swallowing the lump in your throat you tore the envelope open, freeing the letter and daring to read what was inside.

Dear Y/n,

Your dream was right. And that advice you gave about keeping an eye on Sirius? It saved his life. I suppose I’m mostly writing to say thank you. I’ve got some updates for you too: firstly, it’s finally been confirmed that Voldemort is back so my name is cleared. Secondly, it turns out that Remus and Cecillia are old friends, she contacted him earlier today about your vision and he and Sirius haven’t shut up about how impressive it is. I have a feeling you might be hearing from them soon, The Order now more than ever is in need of a secret weapon and genuine seers are hard to come by. I hate to involve you in this, it’ll probably be dangerous and you know I don’t want to see you hurt, or worse. But having said that, I’m glad we’re in this together now.

Astra got here in good time, by the way, she landed on my window just after I woke up from my vision of Sirius, it was actually quite freaky. I’m taking good care of her so don’t worry, she should be back to you at some point tomorrow.

Hermoine and Ron say hi too. I’m sure you’ll be hearing from George soon, seeing as he and Fred are in the Order… On that note I better get going.

Thank you again for the warning.

See you soon,

Love, Harry.

A bemused smile spread across your lips as you scanned the page, thankful to have finally made a significant difference in Harry’s life. Cecillia was grinning like a cheshire cat beside you, pride shimmering in her emerald eyes. She bumped her arm against yours playfully when you let the letter fall to your lap, “An old friend of mine will be stopping by in a short while. It seems he’d like to get you trained up in some defence against the dark arts.” She told you, still grinning.

“Defence against the dark arts?” You wondered out loud, you were sure you’d heard Harry mention those words to you before, however, the memories were fuzzy.

“Magic to keep you safe from darker magic, the likes of which the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters rely,” she explained darkly. Just then, a loud bang erupted from her open stone fireplace, a bubble of green dissipated as two men stepped less than gracefully onto Cecillia’s faux-fur rug. You recognised them both from your vision. They were Sirius Black and, if you were to take an educated guess, Remus Lupin.

Cecillia wasted no time before she was giddily jumping from her seat to greet the pair who had just appeared in her sitting room.

“Remus! Oh, how wonderful to see you!” She all but squealed, pulling the tall man into a hug and ruffling his already messy hair.

He reciprocated the hug with a gentle chuckle, “It’s nice to see you again, Cece. It’s been far too long,” he pulled away and the pair of them shared a fond smile before simultaneously looking to Sirius. “I trust you remember Sirius?” Lupin asked, almost rhetorically.

Sirius let out a booming laugh at that, “She could never forget me, now could you, Cece?” Cecillia rolled her eyes, and with a look of endearment nearly tackled Sirius into an embrace.

Seeing the woman who was essentially your magical mentor so overjoyed was lovely, Cecillia was jolly at the best of times but you’d never seen her quite like this. Her happiness added to your sense of helpfulness, Sirius Black was obviously important to more than just Harry, if the smile on the free-spirited witches face was anything to go by. Although you were ecstatic for the three witches and wizards before you, you couldn’t help but feel like you were imposing on an intimate reunion.

Awkwardly you cleared your throat, successfully bringing the trio’s attention onto you as you stood by the sofa, smiling unsurely. If it was even possible, all three of their smiles broadened when their gazes landed on you.

“Am I right in assuming that this is my guardian angel?” Sirius asked, separating from Cecillia.

Cecillia nodded, filled with pride, “And isn’t she just the loveliest guardian angel you’ve ever seen?” She gushed, half seriously.

You offered Sirius a bashful smile, along with a nod of greeting, “I’m glad to see you’re alright,” you told him.

His grin stayed fixed in place but he raised a single eyebrow in confusion, “Glad? And yet you’ve never met me before now…” his tone was laced with inquisition, as if he wanted to figure out what ulterior motive you could possibly have for caring about a stranger you’d only ever seen in a dream.

It didn’t take a seer or a psychic to see what Sirius was after, so you simply answered him truthfully, “No, we’ve never met, but you’re still a person, I watched that woman kill you, it was horrible, nobody deserves that. As well as that; I know how much you mean to Harry and what sort of best friend would I be if I didn’t try to help him keep his last family member safe?” Sirius nodded approvingly at your reply, looking between Remus and Cecillia.

“She remind you of anyone?” The black haired man asked in a low chuckle, Remus snickered and Cecillia bit back a grin.

The witch made her way back to your side and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, jostling you ever so slightly when she noticed your vaguely worried expression, “Don’t worry, darling, you just remind us of one of our most treasured school friends, I promise I will tell you all about it later. But for now, I believe Sirius was about to thank you for saving his life?” She prompted, waiting expectantly.

Sirius cleared his throat and straightened his posture before outstretching his arm, offering you his hand which you took firmly in your own. His voice was steady, strong and genuine when he spoke, “I am truly thankful for what you did for not only me but Harry today. I’m extremely proud of my godson for aligning himself with such a strong, powerful and wonderfully loyal young lady.”

“How sweet,” Cecillia cooed, before guiding you to the kitchen, “Come now, boys, kettles on- we have a lot to discuss!” She called over her shoulder.

There certainly had been a lot to discuss. The Order of the Phoenix thought having a seer at their disposal would be extremely beneficial in the upcoming war, the issue was; you are not yet of age and some members of the group didn’t wish to involve a child in their battle. Sirius, Remus and Cecillia made it abundantly clear that if you desired to join the Order, you were more than welcome but you would be welcomed under certain conditions. Those conditions being that your membership be kept under wraps and not disclosed to any muggles, meaning your parents.

“To keep them safe and to give you an escape route if things get too messy, even with the level of magic you’ll have gained by the time the war is in full swing, as a muggle born you’ll most likely need to flee quickly,” Remus explained, though it didn’t make much sense.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to run if my parents knew what we were running from? They’re open minded people, I’m sure they’d understand,” you attempted to reason, the trio but exchanged yet another loaded look with each other.

Cecillia placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, “We have a contingency plan in place, darling. Nothing you need to worry about for right now,” she reassured, easing your nerves a tad. “You trust me don’t you?” She followed up, her tone slightly stonier, more serious. You nodded your head certainly in response, there was no doubt about it; you trusted the witch with your life. “Then,” she began again, a somewhat chastising look on her face, “Trust that I will not allow a single hair on your head to be harmed.” This rule also extended to wizards not in the Order, which meant that when in the magical world, you were to air on the side of extreme caution.

Relating to that, another condition was that, at all times in the magical world, you were to be accompanied by an of age member of the Order. According to Sirius, who your were growing to like more by the second, he was going to arrange for a member of the Order to bring you to Diagon Alley in the morning to get you a wand. The prospect of having a wand of your own was terribly exciting, once again though, you found yourself wondering if you had it in you to properly wield one, or wield one at all for that matter. You were too exhausted to fret for too long, so the thoughts about magic levels and your own capabilities were only fleeting. Once all of the serious chat dissipated into friendly chatter, you managed to slip away from the table at which you were all sat. Making your way back to the sitting room, you tucked yourself into the corner seat of Cecillia’s old and very comfortable sofa, pulled your knees against your chest, wrapped your arms around them and rested your cheek against your knee. Slowly and deeply, you began to breathe in and out, fiddling with the amazonite bracelet that adorned your wrist in order to quell your ever growing anxiety. For a few sweet minutes you indulged in the calm silence, meditating peacefully in your comfy seat until a soft knock sounded from the doorway. When your eyes fluttered open they were met with the image of Sirius Black, leaning casually against the frame of the door, a hand plunged deep into his trouser pocket and another flipping a stray tarot card between his fingers. His eyes were focused on yours as he spoke, “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

You shook your head and patted the seat beside you, “‘Course not, come sit.”

The man chuckled but obliged, settling in the spot beside you and offering you the card he’d previously been fiddling with.

“The ten of swords,” you identified easily, “I assume you’ve been feeling quite overwhelmed if this card found its way to you.”

Sirius hummed, “CeCe tells me that you’ve a penchant for card reading. I was rubbish at divination back at Hogwarts, only took it because I thought it’d be easy but I could never get my head around it,” he reminisced, an airy laugh slipping from his lips.

“If you don’t mind me asking, who were you all talking about earlier when you asked if I reminded Cecilia and Remus of anyone?” He let out a deep sigh before fixing you with a soft smile.

“An old school friend of ours, she was more than a friend to me, but that’s a story for another time,” he started, staring out into the empty space before him a melancholy grin on his lips, “She was fiercely loyal to her friends, if she wanted to help there was absolutely nothing that would stop her from doing so. I know I don’t know you very well, but from what I heard today and the way in which you’ve been described to me by Harry; I can see her in you,” he finished, bumping his shoulder with yours and forcing a happy smile onto your lips which mirrored Sirius’.

“What’s her name?” You asked.

“Her name was Marlene,” Sirius answered.

Your heart dropped with his use of past tense, “Was?”

Sirius bowed his head slightly and began to twist the rings that adorned his slender fingers, “She was killed during the first war,” he told you, making eye contact once again, a grave expression on his face as he continued, “I saw your apprehension earlier when we brought up the topic of secrecy, but you must understand that during the first war we lost so many who were dear to us, keeping you in our back pocket will ensure that you aren’t harmed in the face of this war, if any dark wizards hear so much of a whisper of a muggleborn seer they will stop at nothing to eliminate you,” he paused for a brief second, never breaking eye contact, the gravity of the situation heavy on your chest your fingers absentmindedly found your amazonite bracelet once again. Your movements were halted when Sirius placed his large hand over yours, squeezing it warmly while staring at you determinedly, “You saved my life today, Y/n. So believe me when I tell you that I will stop at nothing to keep you safe,” he promised and you squeezed his hand in return.

“I know,” he smiled as he watched your eyes return to the ten of swords and your grin broadened with the sort of mischief he’d only ever seen in four people; James Potter, Marlene McKinnon and Fred and George Weasley. “I have a prediction for you.”

Sirius entertained you fondly, a mischievous air that reminded him of when he was your age surrounding the pair of you, “By all means, do tell.”

“I predict,” you paused for emphasis, “that we are going to be very good friends.”

Sirius let out a booming laugh of which the volume he couldn’t control, “That is a prediction I truly hope will come to fruition.”

“Oh no, this is a duo that spells trouble,” Cecillia giggled to Remus as they entered the sitting room.

Remus looked between you and Sirius with a grin, “With a mentor like you, Cece, I’m not surprised Y/n has a taste for mischief,” the ruffled wizard teased, receiving a gentle elbow to the ribs from your mentor.

“Oi, if you’re going to blame my beloved girl’s mischief on anyone you better blame it on a certain Weasley twin,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows and causing the boys to smile giddily like teenagers.

Sirius bumped your shoulder again, this time with a faux-scandalised smile, “A Weasley twin, eh? Come on then, which one?” You blushed heavily and cleared your throat in an attempt to alleviate the embarrassment filling your being.

“He’s just a friend!”

“Mhm. A friend that sends her annotated pages from his divination text book,” Cecillia sang and Sirius snickered.

“Whichever one it is must be quite taken with you if you made him actually crack open a textbook.”

“Annotations are quite intimate,” Remus half teased although you could see he believed what he’d just said, “I bet it’s George,” he directed the bet at Sirius who carefully observed the way you bit your lip and bashfully looked towards the wooden floor.

“I think you’re right, moony. Now!” He stood suddenly and pointed a finger at Remus expectantly, “We best get going and arrange Y/n’s accomplice for tomorrow’s field trip,” he wiggled his eyebrows before turning his head to face you again, he shot you a wink and you couldn’t stop the airy laugh that left your mouth at his lighthearted antics.

Remus gave Cecillia a one armed hug, “we’ll be seeing you both tomorrow then, it was lovely to meet you, Y/n, perhaps next time Sirius will allow me to get a word in,” he chuckled and Sirius responded by throwing his arm around your shoulder.

“I better get off, this husband of mine is growing jealous,” he told you in a teasingly hushed whisper.

Your eyes widened and you looked between the two men, “You two are married?”

A love struck smile took over both of their faces which immediately gave you your answer. “We’re engaged,” Sirius clarified before pulling you into a proper hug, “Get a good night's sleep, we’ll be sending an order member to collect you early tomorrow morning so you can be in and out of Olivander’s before a crowd can build,” he told you while giving you an affectionate squeeze, you could’ve laughed when you realised that it felt like you’d known Sirius forever but you also could’ve cried when you relived the image of him losing his life and realised that just because it was over and prevented didn't mean it hadn’t still transpired in your mind’s eye, you didn’t let that show on your face though.

“I’ll make sure I’m well rested,” you promised.

With that, Sirius bid Cecillia goodbye, and he and Remus left the way they’d came.

The rest of the night had been spent with Cecillia telling you story after story about her school days and the trouble she’d caused with Sirius, Remus, James and Lily Potter, Harry’s parents, and another boy who she only referred to as “the rat”. Though the tone of the stories were completely lighthearted, they weighed on your chest with a sense of such tragedy. A huge majority of their friends were killed young because of the war, a war that was now waging once again. It led you to wonder who’d be lost to this one, if perhaps you’d be on the list of names that Harry or Cecillia or George would speak about fondly with a dense undertone of sorrow in the years after the second war had long since been won. It was a risk you were willing to take though, the notion of fighting for a deserving cause filled you with a sense of purpose, a purpose you’d been searching for for years. More than that, you felt important. You were needed. An asset. You would actually be of some help.

True to your word, you’d been getting a good night’s rest. The bed in Cecillia’s spare room was the comfiest thing you’d ever come across, though, as you began to stir from your deep slumber you couldn’t recall the empty side of the double bed being quite so dipped.

Slowly and begrudgingly, you cracked your eyes open to see Cecillia smiling tiredly at you in the light of dawn, “Morning, darling. Sorry about the early start, I’ve made you some tea,” she greeted quietly so as to not disturb the peace of the early morning. She held two ceramic mugs, one in each hand and passed you the steaming cup that was hand painted green, keeping the brown one for herself. Tiredly, you patted the spot beside you and pulled the quilt to the side, inviting the witch into the warm bed. She happily slid in, pulling the quilt over her and chuckling quietly when you dropped your head onto her robed shoulder and began to sip the tea she’d made. Cecillia rested her head against yours and sipped on her own tea.

“Are you excited for today?” She asked and you hummed.

“I’m having mixed emotions,” you stated, “I’m excited to see everything, but I’m sort of nervous that I won’t have enough magic to even get a wand,” Comfort spread through your chest when Cecillia pressed her lips to the crown of your head.

“The wonderful thing about wands, lovely, is that the wand picks the wizard,” she began, “so whatever wand you end up with will accentuate the level of magic inside you. Its power will grow as yours does and you’ll soon come to realise that you couldn’t imagine wielding anything else,” her voice was wistful and her eyes shined with wonder as she recalled how it felt to bond to a wand.

“What do you think mine will be like?” You wondered, excitement awakening in you thanks to Cecillia’s encouraging words.

The witch took an exaggerated slurp of her tea before answering, “Something curious,” was all she said.

“Insightful,” you murmured and she shrugged unapologetically, her chaotic energy exuding now that she’d started to wake up fully. “What time is it anyway?”

“Half six, your chaperone should be arriving at seven and Olivander’s opens at eight,” she told you before shimmying out of bed, you whined in the absence of your head rest. “You better get dressed. Wear something nice, rumour has it that your tag along is quite the eligible bachelor,” she wiggled her eyebrows and all but floated out of the spare room. It was practically your room by now though, over the years since you’d gotten Astra and met Cecillia you’d stayed in the room on countless occasions. Cecillia embodied something that was something between a second mother, a spiritual mentor, a teasing older sister and a slightly kooky aunt.

“Oh? So do you reckon I should brush my hair then?” You jokingly called out after her only to receive a harsh scoff.

“Absolutely not! Don’t be desperate!” You barked out a laugh at her response, shaking your head and getting ready for the day ahead.

You were just about finished getting ready when a familiar bang sounded from the sitting room. Taking a deep breath, you gave yourself one last look over in the mirror, happy with the outfit you’d chosen, you made your way towards the sitting room to come face to face with your surprise chaperone for the day.

When you shuffled into the sitting room, a smile immediately stretched across your lips upon seeing who had been appointed to stick by your side for the day, “George!” His name left your mouth in a squeal that would’ve been embarrassing had you not been so excited to see him. It’d been upwards of a year since the last time you’d seen George in the flesh and although you’d seen each other in photos and written to each other at a rate that was almost excessive, the prospect of spending time together in person was, for lack of a better word; magical.

George drew his attention away from the framed pictures that lined Cecillia’s fireplace to see you standing in the doorway, looking as bright as the newly risen sun and sporting a smile that he couldn’t quite put into words how it made him feel. It only took a second before his own cheek splitting smile grew on his face, and with it left his hopes of impressing you with his cool and collected attitude. You hadn’t given him too much time to dwell on his ruined cool guy facade as you all but threw yourself into his arms. The red head let out an endearing laugh, catching you in his toned arms, wrapping them tightly around your torso. A scarlet blush rising on his ears when he felt your smile against his neck. “Hello to you too,” he chuckled against your ear and you pulled back enough to look at him, your arms still secure around his shoulders.

“Sorry,” you started, the smile that still adorned your lips telling him that you weren’t all that sorry at all, “Hi,” you greeted, bashfully pulling your arms away from him.

The sitting room was quiet for a moment as the pair of you only stared at each other, would it be too much to tell him that you’ve missed him? You didn’t want to come on too strong after such a long time apart, you’d already tackled him into a hug within the first five seconds, but with that came your next internal question of; did you really want to keep this boy on his toes?

George, having already discarded his notion of acting nonchalant with you, bet you to the punch. He rubbed the back of his neck and flicked his gaze to the floor before bringing it back to you, “I’ve missed you.”

A giggle left your lips before you could think about choking it down, you nodded your head, bouncing slightly on the balls of your feet, “Yeah, I’ve missed you too. Sorry I haven’t written, Astra is still with Harry.”

George gave you a grin, “No worries, darling. Heard you’ve been a very busy little psychic lately.”

Darling, you mused internally, the nickname echoing through your head and causing your heart to somersault in a way you’d never really felt before.

“Oh how sweet,” Cecillia sang from the doorway, a wicked grin on her face as she took in the two hopeless blushing messes, staring doe-eyed at each other in the middle of her living room. “I hate to break up the reunion, my dears, but the pair of you really should get going,” she instructed, strutting up to you and holding a cloth pouch in your direction, “Sirius left you some spending money, it’s different than the money you usually use but I’m sure George will have no problem helping you out,” Cecillia shot the boy a wink and he nodded, once again growing bashful.

“Now,” she grew serious, directing her words at George and making him slightly intimidated with her strong eye contact, “You are to be extremely careful. You are not to mention that Y/n is a seer and you are not to draw any attention to the fact that she is a muggleborn, if Mr. Olivander asks, she’s a half-blood who's been living in the states and that’s why she doesn’t have a wand,” you wore a confused expression, George nodded in complete understanding, “Did Sirius give you the list?”

George nodded once again, pulling a folded piece of parchment out of the back pocket of his slightly baggy denim jeans, “May I take a look?” Cecillia asked, already snatching the parchment from George’s long fingers and unfolding the sheet and reading it aloud, “Alright! A wand… seriously? He used a whole page of parchment just to write one thing?” She grumbled, stomping over to the nearest side table, leaning down and began to scribble on the parchment. You looked to George as she wrote, “Why do you have to say I’m from the States?” You asked quietly and George leaned down slightly to be closer to your ear.

“Witches and wizards in America don’t get wands until they’re of age, we get them here when we’re eleven,” just as he was finished offering his explanation, Cecillia walked back over, a hard look on her face that you weren’t used to seeing, though it seemed that the look was reserved for George.

Silently she handed him the parchment before looking to you, hard look dissolving back into her usual playful expression, “Have fun, lovely.” She then turned to George again, apparently having had enough of trying to intimidate the poor boy, she shot him a smile, “You’ll be taking the floo to Diagon Alley, my fireplace is big enough to take the both of you at once,” she handed George a pouch of what looked like green powder, “George knows what to do, now, not to sound like a broken record but do stay safe and have fun,” she finished, ushering the pair of you into her fireplace. You couldn’t lie, it was quite strange, you supposed you should get used to things coming across as strange, you were about to be exposed to the magical wizarding world for the first time after all. In the fireplace, you stood shoulder to shoulder with George, noticing the nervous look on your face, he slid his hand into yours gently. When you looked at him, he kept his face focused on his feet, “Ready, Y/n?” Taking a deep breath you nodded shakily.

“Ready, George.”

At your words, George slammed the green powder onto the ground and shouted, “Diagon Alley!”

You were sure you were going to be sick. Whatever the powder was, it had you spinning at a pace you didn’t know was possible, you had screwed your eyes shut and you were almost certain that you could feel yourself physically moving. It was only when George tugged on your hand that you opened your eyes to see that your surroundings had actually changed. “It’s horrible the first time, but you get used to it,” George said, pulling you by your still intertwined hands onto the cobbled street. The dizziness died down after only a few seconds out in the fresh air, the added sensation of George’s thumb rubbing soothing circles against your hand seemed to do the trick in settling you completely as you took in the street ahead of you. It was dazzling, really. A long cobbled street, lined with shops that looked like they were plucked straight out of a fairytale. As planned, the streets were fairly empty in the early morning as George led you down the path towards the shop where you’d hopefully get your wand. The name “Olivanders” was written above both windows of the dark shop, the words “makers of fine wands since 382 B.C.” were to be seen just above the door. Excitement had completely overridden your nerves and you practically skipped towards the door, George followed casually behind you, his hands tucked into his pockets and a fond smile on his lips.

“I suppose you’re excited then?” He asked teasingly and you didn’t bother trying to hide your obvious childlike wonder as you waited for him to catch up with you.

“It probably seems silly to you, but this morning Cecillia told me all about when she got her wand and it sounded so wonderful,” you told him, smiling when he bumped his shoulder against yours.

“I don’t think it’s silly, I still get giddy thinking about the time Fred and I got wands of our own,” he pushed the door open and motioned for you to step inside, slowly you walked into the empty shop. It was dark and somewhat dingy but there was something very mystically inclining about it, you could feel the energy and it was utterly exhilarating.

“Wow,” you breathed out, spinning where you stood, gazing at the boxes upon boxes that lined the shelves.

Only a minute passed before an old man stumbled to the front of the shop, smiling at the pair of you from behind the counter, “Ah, Mr. Weasley, it’s good to see you, it’s been some time. What can I do for you this morning? I see you’ve brought a friend,” the older wizard greeted and you smiled in response.

“I’m looking for a wand. I’ve been living in the states for the past few years but I just moved home,” you lied easily, George couldn’t help but smirk, what he’d give to have had you around for some of his and Fred’s pranks at Hogwarts.

The old man nodded in understanding, his eyes scanned you, his eyes were scrutinising and you fought the urge to squirm under his gaze, “Interesting. One moment please,” he said, murmuring to himself as he searched the isles for what he was looking for. A small “aha” sounded from within the isles, he was back in front of you within seconds, an open rectangular box in his hand. It was absolutely gorgeous, it resembled a raw tree branch, wood spiralling up its expanse until it stopped at the top, cutting off in a jagged, dull edge. He must’ve noticed how your jaw dropped, how could he not? He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off you since you’d wandered into his shop. He was an old wizard, but he wasn’t naive, he was well aware you weren’t returning from America, he could sense an energy in you that he hadn’t come in contact with in a long time. “Curious, isn’t it?” He prompted you, causing you to let out an airy laugh. Cecillia was going to tease you big time when you got back to her cabin.

“It’s lovely, what is it?” He offered you the box expectantly and you hesitantly picked up the wand with as much care as you possibly could. It was cool against your skin and was heavier than you’d imagined it would be.

“Thirteen inch, oak; cut from the base of a tree, which at the time, was almost six hundred years old,” he explained, watching happily as you ran your fingers along the wands several ridges,”With a phoenix feather core, quite a rare piece indeed. Unfortunately, this particular wand has been extremely difficult to match to a witch. But something tells me that you might be just the witch for the job,” he held your gaze and you once again got the feeling that he knew something he shouldn’t, “Go on, then. Give it a wave,” he prompted and you looked to George for further encouragement. George laughed at your lost expression, pulling his own wand out and pointing it towards the now empty box on the counter, “Like this, love,” he demonstrated, moving his wrist in a semi-circle motion, making the box levitate off the counter.

Another pet name. You ignored the butterflies in your stomach in favour of clearing your throat, squaring your shoulders and pointing your wand at the same box George had just made float, which was now settled back against the counter. Imitating the boy beside you, you moved your wrist in a swift semi-circle. Suddenly, a golden light poured from the tip of the wand and warm air surrounded you, gently blowing your hair back and forcing a laugh of disbelief to leave your lips. George stood wide eyed beside you, his lips parted slightly. He was amazed really, he went through five wands before he found the one that fit him, yet you’d found yours on the first try, and he had to admit; you looked glorious doing it.

After paying for your wand, you exited the shop, looking around George’s side at the list he was holding. From what you could make out, Cecillia had added a number of items to the originally very short list; 1) a wand, 2) a pendulum (crystal of the ladies choice), 3) crystals: labradorite, lapis lazuli & azurite, 4) mugwort, 5) new tarot deck (again, whatever she wants Sirius can afford it ;)).

“Suppose our next stop is the divination shop,” George said, mostly to himself but gave you a mischievous smile, “If we hurry up and get our shopping done fast we could probably get a butterbeer in before we rejoin the rest of the Order,” he sang, grazing his hand against yours as you walked side by side.

“Beer? You seriously want to drink beer at half eight in the morning?” You asked him, your eyebrow raised and he replied with an exaggerated roll of his eyes and draped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close against his side and once again leaning his head down so his lips were level with your eye.

“No, you git,” he began with a laugh, “It’s not really beer, it’s pretty sweet; most wizards love it.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, “Sounds nice,” you told him absently, preoccupied with all the intriguing shops that surrounded you. George’s arm remained wrapped around your shoulder as you strolled further into Diagon Alley, seemingly uninterested in his offer for a butterbeer. The pair of you got what you needed from the shop and, since it hadn’t taken long, you decided to take George up on his drinks offer. You noticed that he seemed a little bit crestfallen since your noncommittal answer earlier.

“Hey,” you said, bumping your arm against his.

“Hello,” he replied, returning the gesture.

“So… d’you wanna go get one of those beer things that you were talking about earlier?” You asked nervously, your lip between your teeth. For all you knew, asking someone to grab a butterbeer in the wizarding world was the muggle equivalent to proposing.

George flashed you a grin that was almost childlike, it was mesmerising, so sweet and pure and you almost wished you’d brought your camera to take a picture of it. “I thought you’d never ask.”

With a giggle you let him grab your hand and lead you excitedly towards a building that had “The Leaky Cauldron” written above the door. When you got inside, George led you to a small round table with two chairs and you both sat down opposite each other. As casually as you could, you rested your elbow against the table and let your cheek rest against your fist, for a solid few minutes, while George ordered, you curiously looked around the pub until your gaze finally rested on George who was already looking at you with a soft smile, “Having fun?” He asked, genuinely curious.

You nodded your head, “Mhm, are you? I’m sure getting up at the crack of dawn to take me shopping isn’t something someone like you would usually like to do for fun,” you said, becoming slightly self conscious when you realised that he probably wasn’t enjoying the morning as much as you were. This was all normal for him, you’d nearly forgotten.

George gave you a perplexed look, “Course I’m having fun, love. But, what do you mean someone like me?”

You shrugged, once again pushing down the butterflies that arose in your stomach from the pet name, “I dunno, you’re just- you’re mischievous and fun and… I don’t know, shopping for stuff with me doesn’t seem like it’s something you’d want to do. I just hope Sirius didn’t force you into it,” you admitted shyly, smiling gratefully at the waiter when he placed the mugs of golden liquid on the table.

George chewed on his bottom lip for a second before he shook his head, “He didn’t force me. I sort of, well, I sort of forced him to let me take you. He wanted Professor Lupin to do it but I…” he let out an exaggerated sigh before giving you a smile, “I wanted to spend time with you,” he confessed sweetly, watching happily as a smile formed on your lips and you tried to hide it in the rim of your butterbeer. He laughed when your face lit up once the liquid hit your lips, “Like it?”

“This stuff is amazing,” you almost shouted, taking another large sip from the drink, “No wonder you all love it so much.”

George snickered, “Just in case it wasn’t clear; I’m having a lot of fun with you,” he said all too casually, taking a sip of his drink.

“Where to now?” You wondered, after you’d finished your drinks and set off back towards the floo network.

George shot you a cheeky look and wiggled his eyebrows, “I’m taking you back to headquarters.”

“Sounds ominous,” you commented, following him into the fireplace, nervously.

“D’you want a tip?” George asked out of the blue and you looked up at him expectantly, nodding. “The dizziness isn’t as bad if you keep your eyes open,” he whispered, taking your hand once again and throwing down the same green powder from earlier and shouting a new location that you hadn’t heard before. You cringed as the world began to spin, listening to George’s advice hadn’t helped much as the transportation was just as awful as it had been the first time. Unbeknownst to you, you were squeezing George’s hand like your life depended on it, George’s thumb had resumed brushing circles around your hand in response, the harsh squeezing didn’t bother him at all, not when it was you doing the squeezing. Just like earlier, George led you out of the fireplace and into the unfamiliar sitting room. Though the room was completely unfamiliar it was full of faces you immediately recognised, one face in particular standing out above all the rest.

In a second you’d dropped not only George’s hand, but all of your shopping bags to the floor carelessly and hurled yourself towards the boy who had already begun rushing towards you the second he caught sight of you appearing in the fireplace. Your bodies collided with so much force that you nearly sent each other tumbling to the ground, laughter sounded from both of you as you swayed the other, almost roughly, the way you always did when reuniting after an extended period of time.

“Glad to see you in one piece, Harry,” you told him with a cheeky smile on your lips, opting not to call him Haz in front of all of his wizard friends lest they tease him, not to mention you’d become quite possessive of the nickname, you wouldn’t be too pleased if anyone else started adopting it. Not that you’d ever admit that out loud.

“Yeah, you too,” his smile was as wide as could be when he shook his head, “I can’t believe you’re actually here.”

“Do you want me to pinch you?” You teased, jokingly taking his cheek between your thumb and your pointer, giving the skin between them a gentle squeeze. Harry swatted your hand away with a low chuckle and unraveled his arms from around you.

“Alright, you two, if you’re ready we have some matters we need to discuss with our newest member,” Sirius’ voice sounded from behind you, a knowing look on his face as he watched Harry sneakily pinch your arm in retaliation. He had to fight the urge he felt to reminisce on his old school days; when he’d purposely annoy James, Remus or Peter and receive the exact same mockingly vengeful look that you’d just given Harry.

“I’ll bring your things to the kitchen,” George announced, reminding you of his presence before he walked rather quickly out of the room, bags clutched in his hands.

Harry snorted out a laugh when Sirius followed George out of the room, leaving the both of you alone. Harry wiggled his eyebrows and did his best to make his voice take on a sultry tone, “he’s bringing your things to the kitchen.”

“Shut your mouth, Potter,” you replied, pinching his cheek for the second time and tossing your arm around his shoulder, him doing the same as he led you to what you assumed was the kitchen.

“Do I have your permission to open my mouth to tell you something,” Harry asked lightly, stopping so you were both standing outside a closed wooden door.

“I’ll allow it,” you answered, smiling softly at your best friend.

Harry grinned, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Haz,” the boy groaned at the name but made no further comment, he pushed the wooden door open and walked inside.

The room held a long table where many adults were sat, chatting in hushed whispers when you entered the room, some of whom you recognised and some you didn’t. Mrs. Weasley was fluttering about the table, filling people’s tea cups before she spotted you. The woman, who you’d only ever met briefly at King’s Cross station one year, rushed over to you and greeted you warmly, “Hello, dear! Come, come sit down!” She ushered you to a vacant chair beside George and across from Fred, Harry took the seat on your other side. “I trust you got everything you needed from Diagon Alley? I hope that son of mine didn’t cause any trouble for you,” you gave her a friendly smile and shook your head.

“Yes, we were able to find what we needed and George was very helpful,” Mrs. Weasley, seemingly satisfied with your answer, offered a gentle smile to you and George. She then pushed a cup of tea towards you before sitting down herself.

Beneath the table George bumped his knee lightly against yours, but didn’t break from his conversation with his twin as he left his knee pressed against yours. You didn’t draw attention to it either, simply letting your knee relax against his as the witches and wizards at the long table grew quiet in favour of staring at you wordlessly.

“I’m sure you’ve all heard the news of the seer we’ve acquired,” Sirius’ commanding voice broke the silence as he stood up from his chair, and placed his palms against the table, “I’ve brought her here today so that we may discuss proceedings to ensure her safety.”

“Yes,” a toneless drawl, drawn out nasally from the end of the table drew your attention to a black haired man at the opposite end of the table, “and what of Mr. Potter’s presence?” He asked, almost menacingly. Right off the bat, you didn’t like the greasy haired man. He was rigid and his face sported a permanent snarl and from across the table you could already tell; he wasn’t on your side.

“She’s my best friend, I’m here to make sure she’s not going to be put in any unnecessary danger,” Harry told the man shortly, in a tone that he’d more than likely perfected after having spoken to the man previously.

“As touching as that may be,” the older man snarled, “you are not a member of the Order.”

“Oh, enough, Serverus,” Sirius scoffed, pulling his hand down his face in exasperation before he let his eyes settle on Harry, “Perhaps you should wait upstairs for now. We’ll let you know of any significant updates.”

“I’ll tell you everything later, promise,” you whispered quietly, linking his pinky with yours beneath the table before he stropily took his leave.

“As I was saying,” Sirius spared Severus a glare and continued, “As we know, Yn is an unregistered wizard with an unregistered wand, meaning she won’t be on the radar of The Ministry of Magic. On the downside of this, seeing as her power manifested late, she is also untrained.”

All gazes fell to you once more, only Remus’ eyes were staring softly, crinkled at the edges from the smile on his lips, “I’ll be tutoring her in Defence Against the Dark Arts over the summer. She’ll catch up quickly, no doubt,” you smiled gratefully at him from your spot, relaxing a bit knowing that you’d actually be learning how to defend yourself the wizard way.

“I suppose I will be tasked with teaching the art of Occlumency? A seer with an easily accessible mind is hardly an asset,” Severus drawled. You didn’t have a clue what occlumency was, in all honesty, but you kept your mouth shut in favour of asking Remus when the meeting was over.

The meeting soon drew to a close, the older Order members slinking to one end of the table to arrange the schedule for your glorified summer school while you, Fred and George snuck away to find Harry. You found him sitting against the headboard of a bed in one of the upstairs bedrooms, “How’d it go?”

“Take a guess, mate, Snape had a right sour look on his face the whole time,” Fred answered, sitting on the bed across from Harry’s. George sat beside him and you made your way to sit with Harry.

“Ah, so that was the infamous professor Snape?” All three boys nodded, looks of exhaustion on their faces, “I don’t trust him. Something is very off about him,” you spoke thoughtfully and the boys nodded in agreement once again.

“I don’t like the idea of you being alone with him,” George said, his brows furrowed.

Fred snorted and clapped his twin roughly on the shoulder, “Getting a bit jealous are you, Georgie?” Harry laughed along with Fred while you blushed lightly and George felt heat rising up the nape of his neck.

“Sod off,” he muttered, but made no attempt to deny that he was slightly jealous of all the alone time his old evil potions professor would be getting with the girl he was harbouring feelings for.

The afternoon quickly turned into the evening and before long you were gathering your things and preparing to return to Cecillia’s. Harry would be heading back to the Dursley’s later that night, much to his dismay. You told him you’d be back on Privet Drive at some point the next morning since Cecillia would be dropping you home, as she promised your parents, so he wouldn’t have to suffer alone for too long.

That summer came and went in a bit of a blur. Two days in each week were spent learning how to protect yourself against the dark arts with Remus. He’s an amazing teacher, that couldn’t be disputed. In the space of only two months he had you duelling like you’d been doing it since the day you were born. Of course, you were thrilled to be bonding with your wand and developing (according to Remus) a very impressive skill for Defence Against the Dark Arts. But, on top of that, the shared conversations and exchanging of stories over hefty mugs of hot chocolate with the werewolf had been a huge highlight of your summer, and had caused the two of you to grow exponentially closer.

September was nearing and with it came a stiff breeze that prompted the hair on your arms to stand alert as you waited by the bus stop, the one just down the road from your house. Today was to be an important lesson with Remus, he hadn’t told you what the lesson would entail, but he had said that it was a charm that was “of the utmost importance”.

Although June, July and August were technically your summer holidays, you’d barely had a second to rest. You were, at this point, running on fumes and sheer will power. Extensively using magic was bound to wear you out, however, getting a good night’s rest after a gruelling training session had become something of a luxury for you. Visions of the future and retellings of past torments plagued your dreams and allowed you no time to rest. One vision in particular had been reoccurring, it arrived every night for the past two weeks, taunting you. The autumn chill that dripped down your spine reminded you of the premonition, having your hairs standing due to fright, rather than cold. It was always the same, no details ever shifted or warped and, unfortunately, the experience never grew any less harrowing. The warning that the vision brought about weighed on you heavily and followed you around like a stray cat. Images of a cold, desolate, blue-hued cellar lived behind your eyes, the phantom feeling of freezing metal shackles weighed on your wrists painfully and the undiluted terror combined with the indescribable agony brought about by the unfamiliar wand shoved against your throat had you forcing yourself to stay awake until you physically couldn’t anymore, each and every night. Nobody knew about the vision, you didn’t want to worry them, though, you knew that your distress was beginning to become visible; dark bags were prominent beneath your eyes, Harry had watched you fall asleep in the middle of the day, often on his shoulder, almost everyday that week and Remus could tell by the sluggish movements of your wand that your mind was elsewhere.

A few minutes passed before your bus arrived, the journey to Grimmauld Place was quite long but you couldn’t seem to warm up to floo travel, so going on a regular bus was the better option. When the red double decker pulled up, you greeted the driver with a smile and paid for your ticket. You made your way up to the second story and sat right at the front. The bus, as it normally tended to be, was empty. Resting your head against the window, you let your eyes slip shut, the noises of tree branches brushing against the speeding windows lulling you into a, hopefully, peaceful sleep.

Thankfully when you woke up, no visions lingered. You woke up just in time too as the bus was rounding up to your stop. As usual, Remus waited for you at the bus stop, his hands shoved deep in his tattered jacket pockets and a gentle smile on his lips.

Still groggy from your nap, when you exited the bus you greeted Remus with a tired wave.

“Dare I say you haven’t been sleeping well, dear?” He said gently, walking alongside you towards the house.

You thought about it for a second, perhaps telling someone wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world. “I’ve just, well, I’ve been having this nightmare,” you started, growing nervous just thinking about it.

“Nightmare or vision?” He pressed as you walked into the house.

Guilt creeped into your chest upon seeing the clear worry on his face, “I think it’s a vision.”

Remus nodded quietly, placing his hand on the small of your back and pushing you in the direction of the living room. He gave you a warm smile, when you sat down on the sofa. He grabbed a blanket that hung over the back of the sofa and draped it over your lap. “I’ll make us some hot chocolate and we can discuss this,” he suggested.

“I thought you had an important lesson for today?” He only shook his head, smiling lightly.

He made his way to the door wordlessly and returned within two minutes with two big, steaming mugs in his hands. Remus handed you a mug and sat down beside you on the sofa, accepting your invitation to pull the blanket over his lap too.

“Now tell me; what has been going on in that wonderful mind of yours?”

You took in a deep breath, staring into the hot chocolate and avoiding his understanding gaze, “It happened for the first time around two weeks ago. I thought that it was just a dream, it didn’t feel like a dream but I thought that if I kept telling myself it was I would start to believe it,” you started, taking a sip of your drink before going back to staring at it, “But it kept coming back. Every night for the last two weeks. I haven’t been able to sleep, I’ve been too scared to,” your voice was small as you made the confession. You hated that the feeling of helplessness was beginning to wash over you yet again.

“What happens in this vision?” At his question, you placed your cup on the floor and turned to face him fully, turning on the sofa and pulling your knees up to your chest.

“It’s always the same. I wake up and the first thing I know is that I’m absolutely freezing. I’m in this cellar-like thing. I’m chained up by my wrists and my feet are barely touching the ground… I can’t see anyone but I can feel-“ your breath hitched and you rushed the swipe the tears that were falling away from your cheeks, “I can feel a wand against my throat, it’s pressing hard. There’s a whisper, it’s quiet and ghostly and I can barely make it out but I hear them say; crucio.”

Remus’ eyes widened in horror.

“Then I feel nothing but agonising pain and then I wake up,” Remus’ eyebrows furrowed.

“You’ve had this same vision every night?” You nodded.

“I know I should have said something but I didn’t want anyone to worry,” it was then that Remus grabbed your hands and looked at you with a sense of urgency you didn’t know he could possess.

“I need you to listen to me very carefully,” his eyes were wild and his hands shook lightly as they held yours, “You-Know-Who is back. There are already reports of certain Wizards going missing and none of us have any doubt that it’s his doing. And although I- we- care for you a great deal, it would serve us all well to remember that you’re a detrimental piece in this war. If he catches wind of you, he’ll stop at nothing to take you from us,” your heart was now running at the speed of a hummingbird. “We have a plan in place to keep you safe, I fear we may have to implement it sooner than planned.”

Before you knew it, you were surrounded by the entire Order of the Phoenix, all of whom looked grave. Cecillia sat to your right while Nymphadora Tonks occupied the seat to your left. You had the pink haired auror to thank for your duelling capabilities, as well as Remus of course. Her presence was comforting, she made it a point to shoot you a wink every time she caught your eyes looking more fearful than usual.

“Our original plan will need to be tweaked, I ran into Narcissa Malfoy in Diagon Alley and she very plainly insinuated that I was a person of interest in the death eating community,” Cecillia informed the table, a, for lack of a better word, bitchy tone laced in her voice. She’d told you many of her Hogwarts stories, you could recall her telling you that she and the woman she’d mentioned, Narcissa, had once been good friends until around their fourth year. She hadn’t told you what exactly had happened, only that it had been messy.

“What was the original plan?” You asked, growing frustrated with the Order’s lack of communication skills.

Thankfully, being one of the younger members of the group, Tonks understood your frustrations and spoke up on behalf of the group, regardless of whether they were ready for you to know or not; she understood that it was your life they were coordinating.

“We talked about relocating you to CeCe’s. We also, and far more pressingly, planned on erasing all traces of you from both the muggle and wizard world. Which would mean using a memory charm on your family and friends in the muggle world,” Tonks explained, eyes locked on yours while everyone else in the room glared daggers at the purple haired girl.

“Yes. Though we also planned on telling you this information with a far more delicate approach,” Snapped Molly Weasley from the end of the table, causing Fred, who sat to her left, to roll his eyes.

“She’s been riddled with visions of being ruthlessly tortured with an unforgivable curse for the past two weeks. I think the time for delicacy is long passed,” the older of the two twins practically scoffed. George nodded in agreement.

“Besides,” he set his gaze on you, eyes genuine and unwavering as he spoke, “she’s strong enough to handle the truth. It’s time you all stopped acting like she isn’t.”

The table fell silent. His words hung in the air as many of the adults hung their heads.

“By memory charm I’m assuming you mean obliviate?” You broke the silence, if you could you hoped to start an open conversation with the experienced witches and wizards that surrounded you.

“Yes. They’re completely reversible and once the war is over I’ll restore all of the memories.” Cecillia said.

“We know it’s a huge ask, dear, but it’s our best chance at keeping you out of that wretched creature’s hands,” Molly attempted to soothe both you and herself when she pictured what it would like to be in your shoes, how she’d feel if she had no other choice but to be forgotten by the thing she valued the most; her family. Molly Weasley had never been very good at hiding her maternal instincts, over the summer that fact had become glaringly obvious to you. You and Harry had laughed about how the children of Privet Drive had a special place in her heart.

“I understand,” you told her sadly, chewing on the inside of your lip, “I’m guessing by the atmosphere in the room that I won’t be home to say goodbye before you wipe their memories,” you shifted yours eyes from person to person, stopping when Cecillia took your hand firmly in hers.

Her lips were downturned and her eyes filled with guilt, she shook her head mournfully, “I’m afraid we can’t risk it, my darling. Even being here places you in danger at the moment.”

“Where will she go then? If CeCe’s place isn’t an option we’ll have to find a safe house,” Sirius sounded and, simultaneously, both Fred and George stood up, shoulder to shoulder with very professional expressions on their faces.

“We may be able to help with that, actually. George, if you would,” Fred started, nodding to his twin who straightened his shoulders and puffed his chest out over so slightly.

“Thank you, Fred. As you know, we have a property for Weasley Wizard Wheezes secured and we’ll be living in the flat above where the shop will be,” everyone at the table, including yourself, stared at the twins in confusion, not quite sure where they were going with their little pitch until Fred took over again.

“And that flat has three bedrooms,” he said, a smirk growing on his thin lips.

George spoke again, “Which means there’s one for me and one for Fred.”

“Which means there’s one spare,” Fred grinned wickedly.

Tonks let out an impressed laugh once the penny finally dropped, “We apparate her in and nobody would ever know a thing. Nobody other than those of us in the room know that Y/n is a friend of the Weasley’s, plus us visiting the joke shop wouldn’t raise any suspicion. I have to give it to them, it’s a great idea,”

“And one of the two of us will always be within shouting distance if anything happens,” George added, somewhat pleadingly.

Sirius looked across the table at you, “Y/n, it’s up to you. Whatever you decide will be final, we won’t interfere,” he promised sincerely. It was an easy decision, but still, it weighed heavily on your chest. In all honesty, you weren’t worried about your location, staying with the twins would surely be a light and fun time amidst all the doom and gloom. Your worry was that you would, once again, be handing over your control. Sirius dressed it up as though it was your choice, but you knew that this was probably their best option and in reality you really had no other choice than to move in with Fred and George.

“Sounds good to me,” you whispered halfheartedly, eyes dropping to stare at your lap as your teeth pulled anxiously at the skin of your lips.

“So it’s settled then,” Remus said, “Y/n will go with Fred and George tonight.”

Abruptly, you pushed your chair away from the table and stood up. Sparing nobody a glance, you left the room as quickly as you possibly could, before the lump in your throat could choke you or the tears that pooled in your eyes spilled like water through a broken dam. George made a move to rise from his seat only for Remus to stop him by placing his hand on the boy’s shoulder, “Give her a moment.”

You found yourself locked in the second story bathroom, sitting in the bath. Your legs hung out over the side of the tub while your head was tilted back against the black tiled wall. As hard as you tried to prevent them, tears were streaming down the expense of your cheeks, neck and beneath the neckline of your shirt. The minutes ticked by yet your chest continued to rise and fall rapidly due to the sobs that shook it, your breath uneven. Visions of brutal torture were bad enough when you were in your own home, in your own warm bed, with your parents just a room away and ready to make you a hot cup of tea after you woke up screaming. Now, the visions would without a doubt continue to plague you, unlike before though, you wouldn’t be waking up in a familiar setting, nor would you fall asleep in the comfort of your own mattress, when you woke up screaming so loud that your throat grew raw, your comfort would rely on two seventeen year old boys who seldom took things seriously. It’s not that you didn’t trust them, no, you trusted them with your life- you are trusting them with your life, it’s just that there was already a lot going on in your mind at the moment, moving in with your crush and his identical twin brother isn’t exactly your idea of a nerve killer.

A knock against the bathroom door pulled you from your thoughts. You rushed to wipe your tears with your sleeves, sniffling, “Come in,” you choked out. Cursing your voice for breaking when you spoke.

Remus’ head poked through the door, his body following soon after. Even in an atmosphere as dense as this one, a sense of gentle calm always followed Remus wherever he went. Clumsily, the werewolf slid into the bath beside you with a low “oof” sound, mimicking your position with his much longer legs dangling closer to the wooden floor than your own.

“CeCe has gone to collect your things for you and get Harry, then, I believe, perform the spell,” he eyed you cautiously, hyper aware of your glassy eyes and puffy face. When your eyes widened and you whipped your face towards him, his stomach twisted into knots, he hated seeing you like this. He could sympathise with your feelings. When James and Lily were killed, and Sirius went to Azkaban and even when Peter was presumed dead, Remus had been left with a vicious frustration fuelled by his belief that he was utterly powerless in his own life. He could see in your eyes that that same notion was starting to creep up on you too.

“Already?” You gasped out, pulse rising again, a slight panic setting in. “It won’t hurt them will it? The spell?” You fretted, looking pleadingly to the man beside you.

He shook his head, tenderly taking your hand and placing it against his clothed chest, his beating heart present against the palm of your shaking hand. “I promise you that they won’t feel a thing. They will go on living an exciting life, travelling, seeing the world safely while you’re away. When this is all over we’ll place their memories of you back in their minds and it will be as though you were never gone.” Your teeth found the inside of your cheek again, gnawing relentlessly at the skin as you failed miserably to hold back a fresh set of tears. Remus squeezed the hand he held against his chest. “Let it out, Y/n. It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone,” he whispered, heart sinking lower when your bottom lip quivered and you let a rasped sob leave your body. With a deep sigh, Remus used the hand he was already holding as leverage to pull you into him, wasting no time he enveloped you in his arms, holding you securely as you cried against his chest. Admittedly, it felt good to let it out, Remus’ hand rubbed soothing circles against your heaving back and eventually, you didn’t know how long it had been, you calmed down, your tear ducts all dried out.

Remus held you in his arms for a while longer, even though you’d stopped crying, he could feel your body as it continued to shake. “I can’t promise you it will all be okay, but I can assure you that myself and Sirius, and everyone else for that matter, will be there for you at the drop of a hat; whatever you need,” he spoke against your hair.

“Whatever I need?” You echoed, the pit in your stomach ever growing.

“Of course,” he confirmed.

Remus startled slightly when you suddenly tore yourself away from him. As best you could in your awkward position, you turned to face him and grabbed his hands with as much urgency as he had done with yours. “I need you to do something for me,” Remus furrowed his brows in confusion, but nodded his head anyway.

“If anything happens to me… Don’t make them remember,” you instructed, maybe the request would’ve seemed radical if you had said it to anyone else, but you knew that Remus had experienced losses like no one else you knew, perhaps Harry came close but even his shortcomings couldn’t compare to Remus’. “It’d only cause them pain. If I die and they’re happily living none the wiser, leave them be, please,” the man let out a heavy sigh and took a moment to take you in. Your eyes were hard yet pleading, they left him no room to negotiate and he understood perfectly where you were coming from.

“Alright,” he agreed before raising his eyebrow and readjusting himself to get a better look at you, “However you should know; no matter what may come of this war, none of us will forget about you. In such a short time you’ve given us so much… you gave Harry his first friendship, a friendship that he cherishes more than anything in the world, I might add. You saved Sirius from death, my fiancé and Harry’s godfather. Mentoring you has given Cecillia a new lease of life and Molly Weasley one more child to knit jumpers for at Christmas,” he took a brief pause then went on, “For the sake of saving time I won’t even begin to tell you what you mean to the twins. My point is;” there was a melancholic type of smile on his face when he paused again, as if he was imagining what it would be like to remember you fondly if you did in fact die for the cause, “What you’re asking is incredibly selfless. And while your mother and father may not remember how wonderful you are, we all will.” Remus chuckled lowly when you shuffled your way back into his arms, squeezing his middle tightly. He slung his arm around your shoulders and delicately pressed his lips to the top of your head. You held so much love in your heart for the man who was currently cradling you in his arms. You debated telling him, you weren’t sure if it was entirely appropriate but after the speech he’d just given you couldn’t have cared less, “Remus?”

“Hm?”

“I love you,” you murmured, looking up at him innocently.

He offered you a toothy smile and breathed out a soft laugh, “I love you too.” With a content nod, you rested your head back against his chest, enjoying his soothing heartbeats against your ear. A melodic hum rumbled against your cheek, a quiet giggle left your mouth when you recognised the melody to the song he was humming. The tune of “Rhiannon” by Fleetwood Mac floated through the bathroom bringing a genuine smile to your lips. The werewolf’s humming was interrupted by another knock against the bathroom door, whoever was knocking didn’t wait for a response before entering the room. Sirius stepped in and quietly shut the door behind him. He didn’t question you and Remus' position in the bath but simply slid into the tub on the other side of you, sandwiching you between himself and Remus. The black haired man let out a heavy sigh and leaned his head back against the tiles.

“The mother hens downstairs are worrying up a storm,” he said in exasperation, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Tonks so riled up about someone’s safety. I tasked Molly with making you some hot chocolate to keep her occupied”

“Maybe I should go back down…” you muttered halfheartedly, begrudgingly peeling yourself away from Remus’ warm body.

Sirius gave you an apologetic look, “I held them off for as long as I could.”

“Thanks,” you whispered, bumping your shoulder to his, making him chuckle. After pulling yourself out of the bath, rather clumsily, you took a second to check yourself over in the mirror.

“You’re glowing, darling,” Sirius all but sang from behind you and you couldn’t stop the slight snort that escaped you.

“That’s one way to put it.”

“If you don’t believe me go on downstairs and ask George what he thinks,” Sirius teased, wiggling his eyebrows and receiving a light shove from his fiancé who couldn’t hide his grin.

“Leave her alone, love,” he chastised weakly, “You look perfectly fine, Y/n. Go downstairs and get something to drink, you need to rehydrate.” A bittersweet smile broke out on your lips, his fatherly tone simultaneously soothed you and left you yearning for what you were in the process of losing. Trying not to dwell on the sad fact, you left the bathroom and slowly descended the stairs.

As you assumed, the second you stepped back into the kitchen, Molly began to fret over you as if her life depended on it. Sipping on the hot chocolate she’d given you, you were reminded of how desperately tired you were. All the crying hadn’t helped ease the heaviness in your eyes either. Every bone in your body felt heavy for that matter, you were struggling to even hold your head up.

“You can lean against my shoulder if you’d like,” George’s voice broke you from your hazed state, you’d completely forgotten he was sitting beside you despite his leg that was pressed against yours beneath the table. You gave him a sleepy but grateful smile, as subtly as you could you scooched closer to the ginger and slotted yourself against his side, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. “Will you keep me awake until Harry and Cecillia get here?” You requested in a slurred murmur, your eyes fluttering between open and shut.

“Of course,” was all he said, he looked down at you adoringly, smiling like an idiot when you nuzzled into his shoulder, your nose rubbing against his neck. Try as he might, George couldn’t pull his eyes away from your drowsy face. “What do you propose we do?”

You shrugged your shoulders lightly, “Just talk.”

“How would you like your new room decorated?” He asked quietly, his head tilted down while he spoke to you, so you could hear him and so he wouldn’t ruin the lulled bubble you’d managed to obtain between you by talking too loudly. A sweet smile grew on your face, a smile that all but knocked all the breath out of George’s lungs when you angled your head to make eye contact.

“Can I have a double bed?” George snorted at your question and shook his head no.

“Nothing smaller than a king. What else?”

You pretended to ponder for a moment, “Can we paint it?” The ginger nodded, taking his bottom lip between his teeth.

“If you want to,” he started, almost sounding nervous, “We could paint it together?” Even in your sleep deprived state you hadn’t missed the vulnerability in his voice, it was the same vulnerability that you’d noticed when he’d asked you to go get a butterbeer with him a couple of months ago.

“I’d love that,” you told him, your answer causing his lips to twist into a pleased smile, “How do you feel about the colour green?”

Immediately, his smile dropped and he let out a disgusted scoff, “Green is a Slytherin colour.”

“You keep forgetting that I don’t get the whole house sorty thing,” you reminded him, not happy with his reasoning for hating your favourite colour. “Besides, I love green, it’s my favourite colour.” You told him truthfully. Not content with his disgruntled facial expression you began to defend your preference, “A lot of beautiful things are green; you’ve got grass, trees, emeralds- did you know that emeralds are really useful for enhancing psychic abilities? It also evokes clarity of thought,” you rambled, willing yourself to be quiet when you registered George’s fond expression.

The look of endearment aimed at you brought butterflies to life in your stomach, effectively waking you up somewhat.

“Do you have any emerald?” He asked, you assumed he was only feigning interest, you didn’t know that he could’ve listened to you go on and on about anything and everything for the rest of his life.

“No, not yet. I should probably get some though.” You said through a yawn. Your breath against his neck made him giggle, it was pure and unsuspecting but you took note of it. Everything about George Weasley felt like sunshine to you, his laugh filled your chest with warmth whenever you heard it, his eyes found yours like a lighthouse, guiding your lost mind back to the present each time your gazes connected. His voice, like his laugh, warmed you up when you were cold, giving you a reason to stay awake when you’d rather just slip away. In conjunction with the sun, even if you couldn’t physically see him, you never doubted that he was always there. As well as all of that, like your favourite tarot card; The Sun, he signified good things, hope that hard times will end with you on top, contentment and happiness. While your thoughts consisted of George’s similarities to the sun, his were consumed with the, in his mind, overwhelmingly cheesily romantic notion that you were the moon and the stars, he would’ve cringed if he didn’t wholeheartedly believe it. Everything that made the night sky magnificent was reflected in you. Like the stars, you were mysterious and captivating. Nothing seemed to compare to your glow or beauty, if you were to ask him what he preferred; you or the night sky on a clear night, he’d happily ignore a blank, starless sky in favour of simply staring at you as you went on tangent after tangent about crystals or tarot cards.

The pair of you were pulled from your musings when Harry rushed through the kitchen door looking unmistakably heartbroken, ever the empath when it came to his best friend, Harry’s heart sank the moment he laid eyes on your form, limp against George’s side. The second you saw him you all but ripped yourself from George’s side and the older redhead felt a surge of irrational jealousy begin to build in his chest at how fast you left his hold in favour of the chosen one. He knew it was ridiculous, he’d heard the way each of you respectively talked about each other, at this point you were practically siblings. But he supposed it was rational to be jealous when you liked someone the way he liked you.

Quickly, you crossed the room to Harry who had his arms already outstretched. He knew you were emotionally exhausted when you didn’t bear hug him. You meekly slid your arms beneath his open zip-up hoodie, tucked your head beneath his chin and didn’t say a word. “I shouldn’t bother asking if you’re okay then,” Harry muttered to himself, leaning his cheek against the top of your head and wrapping his lanky arms around your frame.

“Did Cecillia remember to bring Astra?” You asked, it was all you wanted to know about the night’s events.

“She’s in her cage in the living room, darling,” Cecilia said, walking into the room looking guilty.

“C’mon, let’s go have a chat,” Harry suggested, leading you out of the kitchen and upstairs to his unofficial room. Once inside the room you sat down on the edge of the bed, the blue duvet softly creasing beneath you. Harry plopped himself down beside you and offered you a gesture that was always saved for when either of you felt the other was on the edge of something dangerous. Your hands rested against your lap and he deftly slid his pinky over yours, intertwining your two littlest fingers. It was such a familiar experience; he’d done it when your grandparents died, when you’d cried over failed exams that you worked hard for, and in turn, you did it for him when he’d felt as though he had no place in the world, when he’d open up about his parents and when Cedric died and the ministry dragged his name through the mud you’d find your pinky tangled with his almost every night after he’d sneak over to your place after another nightmare or panic attack. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head, “Not tonight. I don’t want to cry anymore,” you croaked out, looking straight ahead of you at the grey painted wall.

“I understand,” he said, sighing and dropping his head onto your shoulder, “Let’s talk about something else then.”

“Like what, Haz?”

Harry snorted out a chuckle, “Like the way George looked like he wanted to hex me when you left him to come to me,” he teased, a smug lilt to his voice.

“He wasn’t teasing me, perhaps I’ll go back to him,” you grumbled, ignoring Harry’s childish giggles.

“Yeah you’d like that wouldn’t you?” You smacked his arm lightly with your free hand, doing a bad job of containing giggles of your own. “Don’t worry, since he’s going to be your new roommate there will be plenty of time for “oh George I’m so sleepy, please hold me until I fall asleep”,” you let out a cackle at Harry’s terrible impression of your voice, laying your cheek against his wild hair.

“That is so not what was going on, Haz,” you defended with a tiny smile.

Harry let out an airy, disbelieving chuckle, “Then what was going on?”

“He just said I could lean on him until you and Cecillia arrived and we just started chatting about how I wanna decorate my room,” you explained truthfully and Harry nodded.

“Riveting,” he mumbled sarcastically. Despite his snarky comment, the boy removed his head from your shoulder and pulled you against his chest. “Jokes aside, I’m glad you’re staying with him, I know he’ll look after you for me,” you rolled your eyes at the sentiment.

“I don’t need to be looked after,” you reminded him, looking up at him with a chastising smile.

He rolled his eyes right back at you, jostling you slightly in his arms, “No. But you like to be.”

You threw your head back in laughter, “Yeah, I suppose I do.” You did. You quite like both doting on people and being doted on, you’d grown up in an affectionate family so it was no wonder really.

“It’s getting late. We should get you settled into your new home,” Harry announced, pulling himself and you up from the bed, “I wasn’t going to say anything but you look terrible. You need sleep.”

“Thank you, Harry. Just what every girl wants to hear before moving in with her crush,” you joked, gently hitting your hip against his.

The kitchen was quiet when you returned, it seemed everyone had grown tired from the dramatic events of the evening.

“Ready to go then?” Fred asked, his coat already on and a handful of your bags in his hands.

“As I’ll ever be I suppose.”

After saying goodbye to everyone you, Fred and George traveled to their apartment by floo, to your dismay. The apartment was bare as they’d only just moved in but you could see it had lots of potential for becoming a cozy home for the twins.

As your first night in your new residence began, your aching eyes and tired mind didn’t leave you with any time to dwell on current events, the second your head made contact with the pillow you were out like a light. A dreamless slumber welcomed you for a while until your peace was broken by the all too familiar nightmare.

The first thing you recognised was the burn coming from your wrists. Shackles adorned them and effectively held your hands high above your head, stretching them uncomfortably. Goosebumps painted the expanse of your arms and legs, due to the freezing temperature in the nondescript cellar. A feeling of hopelessness planted firmly in your chest, the feeling only hightening when the familiar echo of footsteps, heavy and loud, drifted from the corridor outside of your field of vision. You knew who was approaching, you’ve lived this before, and so, you held your lip between your teeth and squeezed your eyes shut. The face of the dark wizard who always brought about your intense suffering was, for the most part, completely fuzzy, unrecognisable, featureless and bone-chillingly terrifying. You’d learned over the last two weeks of having this vision that it was less harrowing if you closed your eyes.

“I’ll ask you once more,” The voice was distorted, like it was being heard through a weedy radio, ominously unplaceable, “Where is he?”

You held no control over your voice, as was the norm during visions, as you felt and heard yourself reply, “I’ll tell you once more; I’d sooner die then sell him to you.” You felt your teeth gritting and your jaw clenching while you spoke. Jaw only tightening when the pointed tip of the wizard’s wand stabbed unforgivingly against the column of your neck.

“And die you will, my dear. But not yet-“ your eyes sealed themselves shut and you did your best to shake yourself out of the vision before what you knew was coming took place, as usual, your attempts were fruitless, “-Crucio.” Just like that your body was consumed by pain, the likes of which you’d never imagined possible, until you couldn’t even register yourself screaming anymore.

You bolted upright, clutching at the sheets of your new bed. Laboured breaths left your mouth and you aimlessly gripped at your neck, where the wand had been pressed, and let the tears spill freely. Momentarily disoriented, you’d forgotten where you were. Deep, heavy bursts of air left your mouth as you hastily scurried out of bed and towards the door. Somewhat aimlessly, you gravitated to the door across the hall. A yellow hue seeped from under the frame into the otherwise dark hallway. Light flooded the hall once you managed to fumble the handle down and pull the door ajar, a discombobulated ginger greeting you with half lidded eyes, obviously having been dozing off before you disturbed his peace.

“Sorry,” you rasped once your peace of mind returned to you and you realised where you were. Despite knowing that you shouldn’t have been standing numbly in his doorway, your feet seemed to be rooted in place, you couldn’t have walked away if you wanted to.

“S’alright,” George called out to you softly, sitting up in his bed, his back against the headboard. “You can come in, you know.”

Shutting the door behind you, you nervously shuffled into the room, stopping when you reached the side of his bed. George’s eyes roamed your face and he took notice of your still somewhat panicked expression, he drew his covers to the side and patted the empty space by his side. Something that always intrigued you was people’s preferred side of the bed, some people gravitated towards the left while others were more biased towards the right, but George Weasley? He slept right in the middle. The twin slept with a huge number of pillows, to the point where it was almost laughable, many of which you could only guess he’d smuggled from the Burrow.

Far too wound up to save face, you slid into his bed and didn’t shy away when he guided you into his side and tucked you tenderly beneath his lean arm. His embrace offered a greatly appreciated warmth as the chill of the dank dungeon always lingered long after the vision itself was over.

“What’re you doing up so late?” You asked, your voice gravelly. As you spoke, George effortlessly shuffled your body and his down so that your backs were resting on the mattress and not the headboard. Your head found it’s home against George’s shoulder and your hair was being tentatively twirled between his fingers.

“It’s our first night actually sleeping here. I couldn’t get to sleep,” he explained, his voice low and laced with fatigue. “I’m not really used to having my own room. It’s strange not hearing Freddie snoring or breathing.”

“I get that,” you whispered, “it’s quite comforting knowing for certain that someone is there with you.”

George nodded then. His eyes were glued to your face and he hadn’t even registered his own thought process before his lips were pressing delicately against your forehead. Today had appeared to be the day for laying all your cards out on the table, yourself and George hadn’t danced around your feelings for each other half as much as you usually did when you’d be in each other’s presence. Neither of you had the energy anymore, besides, if today’s events proved anything it was that; things were getting seriously messy as the war built momentum and it was clear that time was something that could very well be running out.

“Yeah,” he regarded you carefully, a little grin growing on his lips, “It is.”

A comfortable silence overtook the room. George’s twirling of your hair never ceased, every now and then his fingers would ghost over your shoulder and you’d catch yourself smiling against the cotton of his shirt as your eyes grew tired enough that they were close to falling shut.

Just as you were working up the motivation to lift yourself up and trudge back to your own bed, George spoke, “You can sleep here if you want, with me,” there was that innocent vulnerability again. There was never an ulterior motive when it came to him, he did things purely for the sake of making others happy, if he felt he could make a difference he simply needed to. Especially when it came to you, he realised.

“You don’t mind?” You asked, daring to peek up at him.

“Course not. I could use some company anyway.” He reassured you, his lips returning to your forehead, only this time the action held far more intention. “You don’t snore do you, love?”

You snorted out a giggle, looking up at the ginger cheekily, mischief dripping from your little grin that forced George’s heart to stutter rather violently and he hoped you hadn’t noticed. “No. But I drool.”

George’s face contorted, his nose scrunching up adorably in disgust, “Do you really?”

“Suppose you’ll have to find out, won’t you?” You teased and he sighed deeply, his disgruntled expression melting into a soft, adoring smile.

“I should’ve expected this, I knew you couldn’t have been completely perfect,” he said, mockingly sorrowful.

You scoffed, pushing his chest lightly, “You’re doing a lot of sweet talking tonight, Mr. Weasley,” you told him and he shrugged innocently.

“Just wanted to see you smiling again, darling.”

“Yeah, well, you’re doing a good job,” you assured him, the bashful yet tired smile that stretched your lips as you gazed up at him proved that you meant what you’d just said. “I like it by the way, the sweet talking.”

At your words, a huge, shit eating smirk grew on the boy’s freckled face. He managed to rearrange your bodies so that you were still tucked under his arm but you were now facing each other at eye level. “I knew it,” he proclaimed cockily.

You raised a challenging eyebrow, biting back a smirk, “Oh did you?”

George nodded pridefully, “‘Course I did. You see, I’m a little bit psychic,” his words forced a booming laugh from your lips, your cheeks hurting from the smile he’d orchestrated.

You shook your head, smile never dulling as you let out a chastising whisper, “oh sod off.”

“I love your smile,” he said suddenly, his eyes widened in horror when he realised he’d uttered the words out loud. The world could’ve stopped in that moment and you wouldn’t have noticed, all you could take in was George’s face, his eyes searching yours for something.

Carefully, you slid from hand from his chest to his red, blushing face. You cupped his cheek gently, moving your thumb against his cheek bone, almost swooning where you lay when he nuzzled against your touch. Working up some Gryffindor courage, George mimicked your movement, removing his arm from around your shoulder and bringing his palm to rest against the curve of your jaw.

As you stared at each other, you weighed up the pros and cons of telling him that you were completely head over heels for him. Your decision, apparently taking far too long, was made for you when George tugged you impossibly closer to him.

“I wasn’t going to tell you… you’ve had so much going on I didn’t want to overwhelm you,” he said, brown eyes boring into your soul.

“Tell me what?”

He took a deep breath, preparing himself for every possible outcome that may spring once the words on the tip of his tongue are spoken aloud, “That I love you.”

[seytazen]

Looking For Transformers Roleplay Partners!

If you’re interested DM me!

Must meet the following criteria

Must be between 18-26 (Note: I am 19 and if you’re 17 going on 18 in a matter of months or weeks we can talk about it or something like that and just avoid NSFW topics)

Okay and Willing to play with queer relationships. I don’t tolerate “F x M ONLY” very well.

Literate and Paragraph style. I’m talking grammar, speaking in full sentences, using punctuation correctly, and at least a small paragraph of content to work with typically.

You must be willing to play more than one character

You must be willing to play cannon characters outside of an OC

Must be willing to go outside of cannon plot.

If you meet these requirements then read on to see if you are interested!

Rules I have For RPing

For the both of us!

Communication is key outside of Roleplay.

If you’ll be absent for longer than usual, give me a heads up if you can. Note that I won’t be mad if you can’t, I’m just anxious lol.

If you aren’t doing well enough mentally to roleplay, let me know. We don’t gotta go into detail, just keep me in the loop to know you’re okay.

If you loose interest in roleplaying with me, that’s okay too. Just let me know. I’m just happy we had the chance!

Did I do something to upset you? We should talk about it!

2. Commutation is key inside of Roleplay

Wanna kill off a character for the drama? Run it by me. Chances are I’ll be all over it. Let’s talk about who cries the hardest.

Feeling like ripping apart a relationship? Let’s talk about it and what kind of consequences it could have on everyone else and what they did to make it get that way.

Not feeling smut suddenly in the middle of a smut scene? Let me know and we’ll just fast forward it.

A scene triggers you? Not on my watch. We’ll erase it out of the narrative and find something else. It’s cool. We can decompress with fluffy shit or take a break whatever ya need.

Things I am NOT triggered by (we’ll avoid them COMPLETELY if you would like, but the subjects on this list do not bother me when placed in fiction)

This list is a list of things that simply don’t bother me in fiction. If they are applied to fictional characters in backstory or plot wise- it doesn’t bother me to refer back to it, to put a character through the aftermath of it, or for a character to have trauma from these categories.

If you have something in mind that isn’t on any list, ask me! I would like to add in that These are things that some people don’t do, but I have no issues doing them. If something triggers you on this list and you still want to roleplay, just let me know and we won’t touch it.

Mpreg

Smut

Kink

Gore

Medical scenes

Torture

Battle scenes

Mental health

SHarm

Sewerslide

Abusive Situations

SA Situations *

Substance Abuse

R**e *

* situations that will fade to black if they happen in story line.

A little bit about my Roleplay style

I’m okay with any transformers continuity, but I really like to drift between continuities. IE: we start with Prime-verse in mind, but maybe we find the characters turning a little bland and we introduce a ship crashing to Earth with Prowl, Jazz, and Rung on it.

I also tend to want to roleplay in chunks with multiple things going on in real time. It ends up looking something like this.

Me: Ratchet shook his helm, muttering angrily to himself as he listened to the pedsteps retreat away from him down the hallway. Why could anyone understand what needed to be done? Why did he alway have to fix everything? He grabbed the bin from the counter and started filling it with solvent. He was just frustrated, honestly. He knew this feeling would pass- it always did- but it still felt unpleasant. He shut the tap off and dumped the pail of tools that needed to be cleaned into the bin and began scrubbing away.

Optimus strolled across the smooth pavement. The air felt empty and cold around him. Regret was starting to rise in his chest. He tried to keep it down the best he could but it was a fruitless battle. He turned his optics to the foreign stars that twinkled down at him. When would he feel like he belonged here?

Arcee chuckled bitterly. “Is that really what you think?” She kept her back turned. “I don’t think you really understand then. Leave me alone.”

And then you would reply in kind to each section. If a scene came to a natural end, we would simply drop the paragraph. I’m also open to learning a new style if you have something different in mind!

Genre

I’m open to pretty much anything. As long as it’s entertaining I’ll do anything from action to slice of life. Of course I live by the idea that a good roleplay has a little bit of everything in it.

Triggers

So I don’t really have any when it comes to roleplay. Truly, I’m good with a lot of ‘dead dove: do not eat’ shit. Just let me know what you’re wanting to avoid!

Things that I don’t do

I don’t like Cybertronian x Human. At all. Not willing to budge. Nope.

I’m not interested in Humanformers AU where they’re all just humans and that the AU. (If there’s an interesting twist you have in mind, then I might budge on this one.)

MerAu (This one can change in the future, just really haven’t been appealed by it lately)

Optimus/Bumblebee. Not budging on this one. It just ick for me. Might compromise but not promising.

Ratchet calling his significant other “kid.” It just weirds me out in roleplay, I don’t know why. (We can compromise on this one with a different pet name)

Tropes I really Like

I crave a lot of phycological stuff. Really digging into internal struggles.

Finding Love and developing a deep connection

Inopportune Families. I love whoopsie sparklings, found this child in the rubble and there’s literally no where else to put him and bots making it work.

I do like Mpreg with Transformers for the pure drama of it. I love it but the one above this is also a great alternative.

Grieving a major loss and trudging though it (agnst agnst agnst)

Hurt/Comfort I am weak for.

“Things are shit right now, but we’re gonna make it through… maybe..” attitudes

Therapy.

Where I RP

(In order of preference)

Discord (This is the best)

Tumblr DM

Text

Quotev

Will download and make an account for elsewhere. I’m flexible.

Plot

I tend to treat my roleplay just like I do my DND campaigns. We talk about what kinda things we’re in the mood for and we build as we go. Have a brilliant idea of what if this happened? I’m interested. Tell me about it and we’ll go from there.

We can start with a few characters on Cybertron pre-canon and go from there. We can go and do the war and really focus on individual things that didn’t get shown in canon and go from there.

We can even do an AU if ya want! Some cool plothooks I’ve thought are interesting are

Slice of Suburban Life - The war never happened and they all lead suburban dull lives with some twists and turns. Potential to turn out Vibing like Breaking Bad, the Office, Weeds, Good Luck Charlie, etc.

Royalty AU - More centered around Optimus. When he’s named Prime he gets inserted into leading the Cybertronian Empire and it’s a lot to learn. Potential to lead into a War arc, lean more into politics, exploring Optimus’s character development and the pressures leadership causes. Potential to build from slice of life to action.

Rebuilding Cybertron - After the war tensions are high as they rebuilt and try to move past a war that they’ve lived in for eons. Things are difficult, bots keep coming back to Cybertron expecting glittering buildings and structure and they’re finding settlement among the wreckage and only a few bots keeping everything together. Possible leans more into Cyberverse.

Shattered Glass - Megatron leads the Decepticons and Optimus leads the autobots, but the one who’s lost sight of what the war was supposed to achieve isn’t Megatron this time.

Galactic Council - The war sort of simmers down and eventually the galactic version of the UN catches up to Optimus and Megatron. They send in their representatives and things get messy between negotiating, addressing war crimes between the two leaders, and the humans inexplicably being exposed to the entire cosmos of otherworldly beings. Potential to evolve into a high stakes political game. House of Cards esque, Handmade’s Tail ish. Potential to get to more The Office-ish.

Time Travel - Perhaps something happens and someone that survived most of the war gets zapped back to months before everything fell down in a ball of fire. Perhaps it’s Optimus back in Orion’s body preparing to stand before the council.

Start of the time line - Maybe we start with the day Megatronus and Orion Pax meet and go from there. Potential to be more Build-Your-Own-Continuity ish.

Any more questions for me that I didn’t cover? Ask me! My DM is open or if ya wanna stay anonymous until you’re comfy, then you can ask me anonymously too!

[colossal-fallout]

First time with Reiner Braun ❤

Fem X Reiner

This is a little different. I wrote it so you can insert yourself or an OC.

  Warnings: NSFW. 18+ Smut and Fluff. 

A/N: Slight Canon divergent as Cadets take place when they’re in their late teens/early twenties. Other than that, it’s all the same. 

  Reiner had been acting weird all day; but [Name] couldn’t really blame him.  

The last time they were alone together, they’d ended up locking mouths in a steamy kiss. They hadn’t spoken about it since – they hadn’t really had the chance.  Between training and having their classmates around it was a perfect cover to avoid a potentially awkward conversation.  When Shadis announced that for this exam, they would be teamed up together, they had both internally groaned.  

Well, it was going to happen eventually. They’d had another two years of training, they were bound to wind up alone together again at some point. They’d both made sure that during the entire hike, they didn’t let one silence befall the conversation, which would force them to talk about the inevitable subject of their heated kiss.  

It was quite comical, actually.  

Constant talking either about their task, their friends or at one point even pondered and speculated if a person got a sunburn in front of a cannibal; would the cannibal start watering at the mouth?

Anything to not talk about the kiss.  

It’d been a whole week since the incident and it wasn’t like they didn’t want to address it. They just didn’t want to know the others thought on the matter.  They’d both had serious reservations about it; they were totally focused on training and not fooling around.  

And yet...

The kiss only fanned the flames of the huge crush Reiner has had on her since day one. The crush that, over the last thirteen months, had developed into something a lot deeper.  

He’d kill for her.  

He thought about that only earlier when she made a joke about something and it really tickled him to the core; resulting in a loud belly laugh. So, when the sun was starting to set and they had found a good place to camp for the night... that was when things would inevitably go south.  

“Hey Ba- uh, [Name] ?” Reiner called out in a chilled horror. Not only from the slip of the tongue, but also what he had discovered in their shared backpack.  

[Name] was only a few feet away, starting a campfire when a small laugh left her sweet lips.  

“Did you almost call me Bertolt?”  

No. I almost called you “babe”

“Uh, yeah. Sorry. But we have a problem.”

“What is it?” she frowned, heading over.  

He pulled a large, folded bit of material out of the pack.  

“...We only have one tent.”

She looked at him like he spoke another language.

“So? It’s not the first time we’ve had to share a tent with a partner during training. I had to share one with Jean last year.”  

I bet Jean would have loved that...  

It was a running joke amongst the men about when they had to share sleeping quarters with the women, and how they’d lie on the very edge, all limbs tucked in and never once touching them for fear of a testosterone induced erection.  

“Yeah, but I’m a big guy.” He lied, not once being concerned about that at all.  

“Get over yourself.” She chuckled, nudging him playfully as she returned to what she was doing.  

Reiner solemnly obeyed and began to set up the tent, his frown pulling at his face the entire time.  He will not get any sleep – being so close to... her. Alone... Miles away from anyone.  

After they’d kissed.  

He swallowed hard as he fumbled with the poles, wanting to be out of this situation.  

Reiner Braun was desperately in love with this woman and he was supposed to be keeping away. If they kiss again, he’s a total goner. There would be no way he could reject her if she reciprocated his feelings even in the slightest. Luckily, their kiss had been interrupted so he didn’t know how she truly felt. He thought that if he never knew, it’s a problem he would never have to face.  

His fingers clumsily began to fix things together;  [Name] already having the fire going and preparing dinner.  

His eyes almost began to water at the thought that he was about to get her famous, amazing cooking.  

Sasha had been furious he was paired with her.  

His chest tightened and his head became fuzzy. He wished he didn’t have to be in such a complicated situation; he would just ask her to marry him already.  

“You need help?” her voice called over after he dropped the pole fixtures for the third time.  

“Huh? Uh, no I got it.” He wavered a hand dismissively without turning around.  

What the hell am I going to do? He panics in silence.  

Eventually the sun had set and the tent was erected, the two of them sitting by the fire after they’d eaten. The warm orange glow of the flames encased them cosily as Reiner sat back and patted his stomach in awe.  

“Amazing. As always.” He smiled. “Thank you.”

“I’m glad you liked it.” She beamed beautifully.  

 Surrounded by the trees under the stars and being embraced by the warm glow of the flames; [Name] now began to feel weird about their intimate moment they’d had.  It wasn’t very often they had time alone and her feelings for him remained the same since.  

They sat back, gazing up at the stars in a comfortable silence.  

“It feels like we haven’t stargazed in forever.” [Name] commented quietly. “I bet Marco is looking at them now too.”  

“Yeah, he will be.” Reiner marvelled.  

Another silence.  

He noticed she had been pretty quiet since they began relaxing by the fire.  

[Name] was wondering why he hadn’t mentioned the kiss. He’d had plenty of time now.  

Maybe he regrets it?

She bit her lip at the thought, her eyes lowering to the flames sadly. God, he’d grown on her a hell of a lot and she resented that fact. It hurt to think he didn’t feel the same.  

Reiner noticed this.  

Shit, she looks sad. Is it because he hadn’t mentioned the kiss? Should he ask her? There’s no way he would ever stand for her feeling down, let alone because of him.  

What the hell should I do?!

His brain hurt. More so, his heart.  

She flinched a little in surprise when he slowly creeped his hand across the ground and intentionally skimmed his skin across her fingers. He didn’t look at her though. It was his way of sending an impossible telepathic message of; Don’t be sad. I can’t say it but God, I love you.

She, however, assumed it was an accident.  

Ah hell. I’m going to have to mention it. I can’t see her feeling down.  

He took a deep breath.  

“You alright? You look a little down.” His usual façade of serious, concerned solider coming out.  

“Oh? I’m fine.” She lied.  

He knew she was lying. He knew her too well.  

“It looks like it’s going to rain though.” She noticed the thick clouds that were rolling in, beginning to block their view of the stars. “We should get some sleep.”

“R-right.” Reiner nodded, deflated.  

He didn’t know what he expected. His heart, body and soul ached for her lips against his again, but his mind screamed to stop being an idiot.  

As she went inside to get ready for bed, he stood and began to snuff out the flames of the fire, along with any hope he’d had of being with the woman he was so desperately in love with.  

----

  Sure enough, as they lay facing away from one another, the sounds of soft pattering began to tap the tent above their heads. They lay back-to-back with as big of a gap between them as possible; what the small tent would allow anyway. Reiner’s arms were tucked up around his chest and his eyes were wide.

[Name] had her limbs tucked away too but that was for a different reason – as always when she camped out, she was freezing. It didn’t matter the season. As soon as that sun sank below the horizon, her body temperature would drop.  

Reiner on the other hand was like a big insulated heater, sleeping in just his underwear under his sleeping bag. His heart thudded harshly against his large chest.  

She’s just there! Kiss her! Talk to her! Tell her how you feel...

 He’d been close to telling her a few times over the course of the last month or so. He couldn’t help it. Even before they shared that kiss, his feelings would bubble up to the surface and almost spew out of his mouth. He’d always managed to stop himself though, although it was getting increasingly more difficult each time.  

She was just so... perfect.  

Not only was she extremely attractive and half of his classmates wanted her, but she was strong. Smart. Funny. Caring... His eyes closed in a frown as he listed the endless attributes he loved about her in his head. He was fighting a losing battle, and he knew it.  

Bertolt. Annie. Marcel. I’m sorry. I tried... I really did.  

He glanced back and that’s when he noticed her curled up in a ball, shivering.  

His eyebrows furrowed.  “...You cold?”  

“Y-yeah.”  

He instantly turned onto his side to face her, his sleeping bag rustling against the fabric of the tent.  

“You should have said something. ‘C mere.”  

With a sigh he sat up and began unzipping her sleeping bag.  

“What are you doing?” her teeth chatted.  

“Helping you warm up. I doubt you wanna get sick and miss training.”

She averted her eyes away from him when he unzipped his bag and fastened them together into a double. She knew he slept in his shorts.  

Her breath caught in her throat when he wrapped his big, strong arms around her and pulled her back against his warm chest, heat rolling off him and encasing her like a huge bear was holding her. His scent rolled off him and embraced her sense of smell, relaxing her immediately.

He kept his pelvis away from her, his manhood already stirring awake and he didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable.  

“T-thank you.” She whispered, still trembling.  

“Don’t mention it.” He sighed, silently kicking himself.  

I definitely won’t be getting any sleep now.  

Her heart almost stopped when his head rested and lay between her neck and shoulder, his hot breath blanketing her skin. Rushes of unexpected heat ran down her body to in-between her legs and seemed to just pool there.  

His brows furrowed behind her; inhaling her intoxicating scent silently.  

Although he was trying his hardest not to brush his hips against her, he still felt so comfortable having her in his arms like this, like she was supposed to be in them. He was meant to protect her. To care for her. To love her.  

His mind fluttered back to how he’d almost told her he loved her before. He’d hinted so hard but she just looked at him like he was crazy, not understanding what he was trying to tell her. When he was around [Name], it was like all of his troubles just melted away. Colours seemed brighter, his worries were brushed aside and life was just... amazing. She made him laugh, he could tell her anything (almost) and she always knew what to say to make him feel better after a particularly rough day. But to him, the best part of it all was how excited she got him for the future. One that was bleak and full of sorrow was spun upside down and into a promising one, brimming with all possibilities.

“I have something to tell you.” He said softly, not able to stop himself this time.  

Maybe it was being this close to her that sent him over the edge. Or maybe it made it easier that she was facing away from him.  

“Hm?” she hummed softly; her eyes closed and enjoying the warm embrace.  

“...I love you.”  

That was it. It was out.

There was no way to suck those words back into his lungs.  

The tense, pregnant silence within the tent was only filled by the light tapping of the rain against the material that covered them.

He felt her tense in surprise, her eyes flying open.  

She swivelled around to face him, her eyes searching his narrow golden orbs for any sign of deception.  

But there wasn’t any.  

A crimson flush washed over his cheeks.  

“I... I mean, you know –” he began before she silenced him by pressing her lips against his.  

Both of their eyebrows pulled back as if pleading above closed eyes, his hand cupping her face, thrilled to be kissing her once more.  

She pulled away, her own pink hue colouring her face.  

“You... Love me?” she asked, her voice soft and sweet.  

He pressed his head against hers, closing his eyes and nodding.  

“ [Name] , I’m crazy about you.” He whispered in honesty. “I always have been.”

“...How crazy?” she teased, trying to tear away any awkwardness or negative feelings in his confession.  

He smirked. She knows just how to make him comfortable.  

He grinned slyly, looking in her eyes.  

“Oh, absolutely insane. I should be getting carted away to the asylum, with Sasha and her potatoes behind me.”

She laughed beautifully, her heart swelling with joy. Even from that dumb little exchange, confirmed to her that she definitely felt the same.  

“So, you don’t regret that kiss...? Last week?”

“Of course not.” He replied, eyes returning to a desperate pleading. “I was just having a hard time accepting that I’ve come to cadets to be a soldier and.... Ended up meeting the woman I wanna marry.”

Every word that left his lips felt like a warm pleasant jab to her heart.  

“You... Wanna marry me?” She whispers, totally blown away from the intensity of this confession.  

“I do.” He admitted shyly. “You don’t deserve anything less. It’s just how I feel... Sorry”

“You know...” she whispered shyly. “It’s more efficient to share body heat when you’re both naked.”

His eyes enlarged and breath caught in his throat.  

“That’s if... You’d want to.” She added adorably.  

“Are you sure?” he whispered, praying she would say yes.  

She nodded in reply.  

“I want you, Reiner.” She breathed. “I love you too. I want... you to make me yours. I want to be yours.”

Reiner was bombarded with emotion.  

Elation. Excitement. Arousal.

Not to mention he was beginning to wonder if this were a dream. If he were going to cruelly wake up next to Bertolt and his weird sleeping positions.  

There’d been countless times he’s imagined her utter those words in his head; sometimes while stroking his own cock.  

He’d lost count how many times he’d furiously tugged himself while she occupied his mind. But as his feelings for her deepened, it became less and less so; guilt always creeping into his conscience. He just respected her too much.

He propped himself up on his elbow, running his now trembling fingers through her hair.  

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He breathes.

“You won’t.” She shook her head. “I mean, it’s okay if you don’t want to, I under –”  

He put his arms under the sleeping bag with great speed and shuffled a little, before pulling his shorts out and throwing them to the side.  

She let out a laugh when he returned to his original position with haste.  

He returned her laugh, rubbing his nose against hers.  

“Okay...” she muttered shyly. “Look over there for a moment”

He turned around obediently as she began to nervously undress under the now warm sleeping bag.  

All he could hear under the movement of her undressing herself was his heart pounding in his head.  

There’s no way this is real and happening.  

His cock was already hard at the thought of her undressing inches away from him. His previous reservations about being teamed up with her were quickly washed away as she threw her clothes to the side, before nestling back down and hiding under the cover.  

“Alright... You can come back.” She informs him.  

At the speed of a firing bullet, he turned back around; painfully keeping his eyes glued to hers.  

His arm flinched, about to pull her back into his embrace but he hesitated.  

“Are... you sure?” He asked again, not able to believe the situation.  

“Yes.” She giggled, nervously.  

His eyes enlarged and jaw slackened when he felt her satin soft skin against his, her bare breasts pressing against his hard chest and her lower stomach and groin against his solid erection. 

A gasp parted her lips as she felt, not only how hard he was, but how big.  

His arms snaked around her, his narrow orbs keeping their gaze onto her orbs as he pulled her now naked form against his.  

“R-Reiner...” she couldn’t help but stammer, her face heating up as well as her insides.  

A pink hue raises over his cheeks, not having really thought through the situation. He was nervous. He was excited. He was close to hyperventilating. 

Her lips softly press against Reiner’s once more, her fingers grazing across his scalp, her breathing heavy and needing. 

His arm snakes around her stomach, his brow pulled down and creased while his nose pushes out a blow of air, his heart hammering and his cock leaking with pre-cum. She could feel it weeping against her flesh as it throbbed and danced against her lower stomach. 

She pulls back for a moment; “Reiner. Only take me if you’re going to cherish me. This won’t be a one time thing for me...” 

He catches her gaze, lips parted and eyes still hungry. “Of course. I meant what I said.” 

She smiles - elated at his words as she returns her kiss, her hands roaming his ridged, solid muscles. 

His mouth moves down to her neck, slow and tender kisses - each one sending jolts of searing hot electric through her entirety. Reiner’s breath is deep; quivering and panting as he tries to hold back his eagerness and excitement. 

“I’ve wanted you for so long...” He groans, his large palm pushing her arm above her head as he hovers over her a little, his fingers interlocking with her own, still kissing her deeply. 

The pink hue across his face was deepening to more of a crimson, his eyes heavy lidded and jaw slack the entire time. The way he kisses her is with such compassion, such tenderness. He grazes his large nose against hers, hands caress her hair as he keeps himself steady over her, before gingerly rolling on top of her completely, keeping himself suspended with his forearms. 

He made sure every single graze, every grope was as gentle as possible - afraid of his lumbering huge form would somehow break her as they explored one another’s bodies, their tongues entwining in a slow dance within their mouths. Deep, short groans vibrated his throat and chest from time to time, and not once did that furrowed look of desperation leave his face. 

 The only sounds that could be heard was their kisses, whines and groans as well as their laboured breath and the pattering of rain against the tent. 

He suddenly stops their kiss, placing his head against hers and rubbing his large thumb across her cheek, back and forth. 

“I’m happy to just do this.” He breathes, wanting to prove to her that he really was just so happy she felt the same. “We don’t have to do anything else.” 

“I want to...” She replies, the snake coiled within her wrapped far too tightly to be ignored now. “I want you to make me yours. That’s...if you’d like.” 

He nods - returning his kiss, his top lip folding as his lusted haze results in him missing his mark slightly. God it was hard for him not to touch her between her legs. But he’s a gentleman. He didn’t want to unless he knew one hundred per cent that she was sure. 

Taking his fingertips, he nervously and slowly grazes them down her stomach to her pubic bone, pausing before taking a leap of courage - his calloused pads grazing down her clitoris and to her soaked lips. 

They both gasp at the sensation. The feeling of his warm, large fingers against her most intimate area was indescribable. And for him, her thick slick was heavenly. 

“Is this all for me...?” He whispers in awe and disbelief, his shoulder flexing with his movements as he continues to slowly stroke her. 

She nods, biting her lip. 

“Sh~~~it.” He swallows hard, eyes closing for a moment before returning to hers. “It’s my first time. I won’t last long.” 

“I don’t care.” She groans, pulling him by his head for another deep kiss. 

 As much as he wanted to enter her, he refused to allow himself. Instead his lips trail down her body, her eyes locked onto his broad back flexing with every tiny movement as his head moves, his lips connecting with every inch of skin it could find - his hands gently rubbing and massaging - memorising every single gasp from her mouth. Every hitch of breath. He would remember where he’d been when she made those noises and made sure he damn well took it all in. 

“Reiner, I can’t take it.” She eventually moans, writhing beneath him, fingers running through her own hair. “I need you. Please...” 

He instantly returns to her face, cupping it and his muscular back hunches - his free hand grabbing the large base of his shaft. 

“You ready for me, baby?” He breathes. 

She nods. 

He lines up his gleaming head before pushing gently, her tiny entrance being invaded by him as he hisses, her back bending with a loud moan. 

“ [Name]...” He whimpers, totally overwhelmed both with physical stimulation and emotion. 

He pushes again, a little firmer his head popping in past the first hurtle. 

“You okay?” He asks, sounding like he’s just finished sprinting a whole cross-country race. 

“Yeah...” 

He pushes again, her tight insides slowly ingesting him like a snake with a large meal - her ridges massaging him as they spasm with glee around him - his moans now a lot louder than before as he jitters to a stop at the hilt. 

“Fuck...” His tone sounds like he’s about to burst into tears as he slowly starts to pull out and slide back in again. 

The full feeling of Reiner Braun was better than ecstasy, his girth pushing and stretching her, his cock bending up slightly at the tip, already pushing against her g-spot as he trembles above her. With each slow thrust, her pleasure was pushed to an impossible new high, her nails sinking into his large back as she clung onto him for dear life - tears pooling at the corners of her orbs from how amazing it all felt. Like the only two people in the world were her and him, souls connected and swirling around the cosmos in the eternal dance of lovers. 

 “I can’t... Reiner. It’s too good.” She sobs, her insides now pulling in a rhythm as her coil tightens more and more. “I’m going...” 

“Oh, baby...” He groans, eyes rolling as he plunges a little faster. “Me too. It feels so - n’urgh. So good...” 

“Reiner!” She sobs hysterically as she snaps, coming undone around him as her legs tremble and head throws back. 

 As she unravels around him, her name leaves his lips over and over and over again, each time louder than the last as his thick and large cumshot explodes inside of her, his atomic detonation causing mass devastation as his legs quiver, eyes cross and even a bit of drool hangs from his mouth. 

 You are one special person to capture Reiner’s affections while he held such high walls around his heart for reasons not yet known to you. But you managed it, and god is it such a beautiful thing. 

[wiypt-writes]

Soft Landing

One Shot

Summary: Vacation get-aways don’t always let you escape the past, but maybe you can help bring Andy back to the present. Just be careful not to pick up too many bumps and bruises along the way… Pairing: Andy Barber x Reader

Warnings: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Angst, language!

A/N: So this is another entry for @imanuglywombat​ ‘s  “Is That Even A Sex Position” weekly challenge. This position is called “Louise”. See here for more information. This is my first time writing for Andy, and it appears I can’t even do a single smutty one shot for Lawyer daddy without inserting a fuck tonne of angst so…sorry!!!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this story bar the reader and other mentioned OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Tagged my permanent tag list.

Masterlist

*****

 You stirred in your bed, turning over and reaching out for your husband only to be met empty space, your fingers grasping at the cool sheets. Blinking, you propped yourself up on your forearms, squinting as your eyes grew accustomed to the low light in the hotel bedroom before you sat up, stretched a little and swung your legs out of bed.

You made your way out of the bedroom, poking your head into the next room down and, satisfied everything in there was as it should be, you made your way through to the living area of the suite and glanced around, spotting that the curtains covering the door leading to the balcony were blowing a little in the soft breeze.

You padded over to the door, pulled back the curtains a little more and you could just make out Andy’s frame, his broad, bare shoulders silhouetted against the early morning sun. Shoulders which carried a much heavier burden than when you had met almost six years previously.

You had been fresh out of law school back then, and he was not-so-fresh out of a break up with his wife. Neither of you had been looking for anything, but as is always the case, you always find the best things when you’re not searching.

Simply put, Andy Barber had swept you off your feet.

At almost 10 years his junior, the comments at first had been unkind but not unexpected. You’d been labelled “the rebound”, his “early midlife crisis”, a “convenient way to keep his dick warm whilst he got over Laurie.” But talk is cheap, as you had both proven when three years to the date you’d met he got down on one knee and you became relabelled his fiancée.

A year post that you relabelled again as his wife. And some twenty one months ago you’d relabelled once more as the mother of his child. A daughter he claimed looked just like you.

Ironically, you’d actually fallen pregnant on the last vacation you had taken. A family getaway to Mexico following Jacob’s acquittal when you’d all wrongly assumed the horrific dream was over, and you could finally wake up and get on with your lives.

You couldn’t have been more wrong.

In some sick twist of fate, you’d discovered you were pregnant the day of the accident that had claimed Jacob’s life, and later that of Laurie’s. The elation you and Andy had felt at the fact you were going to be parents together had been wrenched away from you in a single phone call from the police, and once more that shroud of dark despair had descended on your life turning the dream into a nightmare once more.

And for Andy the nightmares still continued, some two years post Jacob’s death and you knew without even seeing his face that was what had woken him and why he was now sat on the balcony of your stunning ocean view hotel suite in Cascais, Portugal instead of being in bed besides you.

“Hey.” You spoke softly as you slid the door open and he turned to look at you, his eyes carrying the familiar warmth that they always held for you, as you stepped into the balcony, taking care to leave the door open a crack just in case your daughter woke.

“Hey, Sweetheart.” He gave you a smile as you approached the sun-lounger he was perched on, facing out over the Atlantic, the first glimmer of the mid-June sun peeking over the horizon. “I didn’t wake you or Lia did I?”

Lia, or Halia to use her full name. Chosen by you and Andy for its meaning. A Hawaiian name for remembrance of a loved one. In this case the brother she would never meet.

“No, I checked in on her. She’s flat out.” You assured him, as he moved his legs, dropping them either side of the lounger allowing you to sit in between them, cross legged as you faced him. You studied him for a moment, cocking your head to one side as he gave you a gentle smile. “Get out of there, Bubs.” You gently reached up, tapping the side of his temple and he took a deep breath, his hand curling round yours, lacing your fingers together.

“Sorry, just got caught in a memory.” He offered as explanation. And to be fair, you didn’t need him to clarify any further. You knew, you always knew.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.” He swallowed, so you didn’t press further. You respected his wishes, just like he did to yours.

“Do you want a hug?” You offered instead, and he gave a soft smile, opening his arms. You shifted onto your knees, scooting forwards a little, wrapping your arms around him as he pressed his face into your neck, taking a deep breath as your hand ran through his soft hair and down his neck in gentle, sweeping arcs. You sat in silence for a moment, the lapping of the waves against the shore the only noise you could hear as you held him close, feeling him nuzzle further into you.

“Thank you.” He mumbled against your skin and you pulled back a little, sitting back on your heels as you looked at him

“What for?”

“Everything.” He shrugged, his hand reaching up and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his eyes soft as he studied your face for a moment, his gaze flicking to your lips before it went further down and he arched an eyebrow. “And for wearing that.”

You chuckled a little as you glanced down at the pale blue silk slip, one of the thin straps had slipped down your shoulder slightly, your nipples pebbled against the thin fabric. “Well, someone bought it for me.” You looked back at him, smiling as you tugged your bottom lip in between your teeth.

“Yeah?” Andy’s eyes moved back to yours. “Anyone I know?”

“No, just someone very special to me.” You leaned forwards to press your lips to his.

“He’s a lucky man.” Andy whispered against your mouth

“I’m the lucky one.” You mumbled back. “And, whilst we’re on the subject, I would also like to thank you for what you’re wearing.” You grinned, your hands flat on his chest, smoothing down a little before they trailed back upwards, curling over his strong shoulders.

“I’m not.”

“Exactly.” You smirked, kissing him softly again.

Eventually the teasing pecks flowed into something much stronger, Andy’s arms curling round you, pulling you closer, domineering swipes of his tongue against yours set every single nerve in your body on edge. Your hand moved back down his chest, tracing his soft abs before you palmed his growing bulge through the sleep pants he was wearing, causing him to grunt a little.

Without a word, one of his hands trailed up the outside of your thigh, the other making its way along the inside of your opposite knee and you shifted a little, parting your legs, as his fingers delicately danced upwards to where you wanted him the most. When they softly parted your intimate lips he gave a little groan as he realised you were wearing no panties, and you swallowed as his fingers swirled in your slick, the pad of his thumb grazing your nub ever so gently.

“Always so ready for me.” He hummed.

“Yeah, it’s a curse.” You whispered back, as his spare hand slid the other strap of your slip down, his lips pressing a tender kiss to your shoulder as he pulled the front of the garment down, freeing your breasts. As he kissed his way along the swell of your cleavage, his tongue softly teased each taught nipple and your whimper caught in your throat, emerging as nothing but a soft squeak of delight. You felt his mouth curl up into a smile against your skin and you gently wrapped your hand around his wrist, halting his teasing fingers.

“Andy, I want you.” You whispered, your head falling back as you rocked your hips forwards against his hand as you held it in place. “Please.”

Andy didn’t reply, but with a grace unbefitting a man of his stature, he moved, kneeling up as he pulled his sleep pants down, his gorgeous cock springing free and slapping gently against the thin strip of hair that led down from his belly button. He drew his knees apart slightly as his hands grabbed your hips and he hauled you towards him, his lips pressing back to yours.

You positioned yourself over him, your knees hugging his torso as you lowered yourself down, both of you giving a groan as you took him in. Your feet remained by his knees, one hand sliding round his neck, fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck, the other gripping at his forearm.

Andy rolled his hips upwards as you pressed your forehead to his, noses bumping together as he moved you gently, his rhythm slow and needy from the off. Large hands slid along your thighs, gently palming your ass before they slid up the back of your silk slip, coming to rest tenderly on your spine, holding you close. As he rocked upwards, you let your head fall back slowly and let out a soft sigh of delight as his lips caressed your throat, barely there kisses moved down your neck, that beard you loved so much scratching your skin as he went. Your grip on his arm and neck tightened a little, your nails softly grazing the nape of his neck as he once more lavished affection on your chest, and this time it was his turn to let out a soft groan into your skin. He loved when you touched him there, you’d often made a joke about how if he was a cat it would make him purr.

His mouth moved upwards again, tongue dipping into the hollow of your throat, tracing a path up to your jaw before his lips caught yours again, the kiss deep and needy, like he was at that moment. Your tongues danced lazily together, matching the slow, steady roll and rocking motion your hips were making. With a low grunt, Andy broke away, pulling back a little, his nose nudging your chin as he placed a soft kiss once more to your neck, his rhythm never changing as his hands pulled you even closer, pressing your chest into his.

“Baby, look at me.” His voice was a whisper, and it was a request not a demand, but a request you were more than happy to meet. Your eyes locked onto those deep, ocean blues which were blown with love and lust and you simply held his gaze as he continued to rock up into you, stroking that spot inside that drove you wild.

You could feel the burning, deep in the pit of your stomach, and your hips started to move a little more as you ground down against him, desperate for the friction against your clit and you let out a little cry as you found it, Andy bucking up a little deeper and faster, reading your body language perfectly, just like he always could.

Moving your hands, you cupped his face, the pads of your fingers tangling in his beard as he closed his eyes, those ridiculously long eyelashes fluttering against his flushed cheeks and you pushed down again, rotating your hips, watching with satisfaction as he tipped his head back, a groan flowing freely from his lips, the softly whispered “don’t stop” barely audible, his voice was that deep.

Seeing him so suppliant was something you would never get tired of, because you loved this beautiful, wonderful man with everything you had. You’d both been through so much, yet still made it through the other side as strong as ever, the ultimate sign of your love sleeping in the room inside as you gave yourselves to one another whilst the dawn continued to break over the ocean, tendrils of light purples, oranges and yellow snaring around the pair of you, enveloping you in their warmth, heating the very depth of your souls.

“I love you.” You pulled his face back to yours, kissing him once more, your lips resting against his as you told him again. “I love you.”

“I love you too, so fahkin’ much.” His Boston twang grew more pronounced as did the movements of his hips, his rolls turning into thrusts as you met him movement for movement, pushing down, rocking yourself against him. The burn you had been feeling was now boiling hot as it bubbled to the surface, and you knew that any moment now you were going to erupt into flames.

“Fuck, Andy, I need…”

“Take it, Honey, it’s all yours…” He surged upwards, his hands flat against your back, pulling you to him as you kissed him deeply, before you’re head tipped back as the world around you tilted on its axis, your stomach tightening as you clenched down around him, your release crashing over you like the waves on the shore below. Your entire body went rigid, his name on your lips became nothing but a choked, strangled moan as he continued to rut up into you, his face pressing into your neck as he chased his own bliss.

"Fuck, Sweetheart..." Andy growled as with one final thrust upwards, his body stiffened and he spilled himself inside you, his cock twitching as the aftershocks of your orgasm kept your walls clamping down on him. His head tipped back, eyes fluttering shut and his jaw clenched before he relaxed a little, chest sagging as his arms clutched you to him, as if he never wanted to let you go.

Which, if he didn't, that was perfectly fine by you.

You leaned forward gently, sliding your nose along his, your lips brushing together as he gave a soft smile. With a satisfied sigh he leaned back, taking you with him as he made to settle you down against the back of the lounger you were laying on. Only he didn't stop, he kept going, his eyes flying open with surprise as the back of the lounger collapsed and you were suddenly pitched forward as the other end tipped up sending Andy crashing backwards onto the balcony with a loud bang as the metal frame of the lounger hit the sandstone tiled surface, you still clutched securely to his chest.

There was a pause as the pair of you looked at each other in surprise before Andy's head fell back and he gave a huge bellow of laughter and you hastily clamped your hand over his mouth in an attempt to stifle the noise, trying to supress your own giggles. One of Andy's hand's moved from your back as you sat up a little, legs still straddling his waist, his softening cock still stuffed deep inside you. He curled his fingers around the wrist of the hand you had pressed over his mouth and he pulled it away, pressing a kiss to your palm,  his beard twitching as he continued to chuckle softly, his eyes crinkled at the corner.

"You okay?" He asked, his lips curling up into a smile and you nodded, running your hands through his hair as his fell to your hips.

“Yeah, I had a soft landing.” You teased, causing him to snort out another laugh. "All these years and you can still make the Earth move for me, Barber."

"Well, I aim to please." he quipped as you leaned down to press your lips to his.

"Is everything alright?" You head a voice say which stopped you mid kiss. Your eyes flew open, as did Andy's and the pair of you looked at one another, as Andy started to laugh again.

"Yeah, fine, just a little...mishap with the sun lounger." You called over to where the voice had come from, the next room down to yours.

"But thank you for asking." Andy added, polite as always.

"No problem!" The male voice shot back, before you heard the sliding of a door and the click of a lock as it shut.

"Reminds me of that time at my parents when we broke my old bed." You giggled and Andy snorted, his hands smoothing over your thighs.

"In my defence, that thing was almost as old as me.”

"Well that's a load of shit." You grinned, looking down at him, your hands sliding through his rumpled, fluffy hair. "I only got it when I was eighteen, and given that you're ten years older than me that would mean-"

"Yeah, okay, shut up." He mumbled as his hand reached round the back of your neck, pulling you back down to him.

[gyubby99]

@disneyanddisneyships why would I write this?

Alastor and Aponi were taking a walk at the park, demons running away from the sight of him and screaming. Aponi would also scream at the sight of him, but the 's' is silent because she's horny asf when hes in heat. Anyways,

They were in their early dating stages, which meant they had to learn about each other, but Alastor lovingly lurked in the shadows enough to know shit about her.

'I wanna watch her tell everything about herself that I already know and iternally laugh at how stupid she is, but she's my stupid butterfly and I love her.' Says Alastor's alleged thoughts.

"So, how old were you when you were sent down in hell?" Alastor asks, looking at Aponi in such loving eyes, you'd be surprised if he actually works his stinky deer ass into redemption because of her.

Oh shit I fuckin spoiled it. Anyways moving on,

"Oh, I was 19!" Aponi casually replies, as if their age gap is not remotely similar to Taylor Swift and John Mayer when they dated. She died in the early 2010's and doubts she's ever heard of Speak Now. Atleast she saw Fearless.

Wait, speak now released in 2010.

Maybe she died a day before it released.

We'll never know.

Alastor froze, his every system nervous.

He fucking should be. In his 30's his girlfriend's a fuckin young adult.

You see, even a professional murderer and overlord like him has standards.

Alastor wished he could've kept his five foot rule.

'Shit does this make me a groomer now?' Alastor asks himself in deer panic, and to think he would probably look at her differently in heat was something he could never imagine doing now that the information has been laid out.

"I thought you were.. 21." Alastor stated akwardly breaking the silence.

She wasn't even legally allowed to fucking drink. Just what the fuck did he get himself into.

Aponi groaned. "Al, I've been here 20 or 40 years, I don't really remember, I'm basically an old middle aged woman by now, and this is hell so it doesn't really matter."

Too late.

Alastor was staring at nothingness rethinking his existence.

Aponi would have to comfort him now.

The author wished Jason could choke on a sandpaper cock for making Aponi kill herself at that age. Omg verosika mayday reference she's definetely not another one of the author's girlfriends.

Um,

Let's change the subject back to Alastor and Aponi.

Dont tell my wives. They're forming a band.

"Al, things changed when I was brought up here. Did you know I was even shorter than I am now? I'm pretty sure you're a hundred years old now, and I almost could be, right now. It's okay.." Aponi reassured.

Yeah, things changed when she showed up in hell.

She was small then and she was just short now. Even for a 6ft tall butterfly demon.

All because of her fuckin boyfriend who's probably taller than her creator's other oc.

The author doesn't know what she's doing with her life as she writes this sentence.

"Darling, I just.. I know. Maybe I need a moment more to process." Alastor replied, currently going through five stages of grief.

Aponi rubbed his arm lovingly, smiling.

The author is currently on writer's block but she's doing this to make her bestie happy so she better appreciate this.

Pls.

She's begging. This is all she has.

Anyway,

Bonus;

Angel: Well damn about time ya told 'em!

Vaggie: Wait, she's 19?!

Angel: uh yea

Vaggie: I better not hear her sing 'Dear Alastor'

Angel: The fuck do ya mean by that?

Vaggie, who died in 2014 and has most likely heard of Speak Now: Nothing.

Charlie: Well, technically her age in this is probably 20.. so human age doesn't matter. It's just her appearance that looks 19, actually!

Aponi: Thank you, Charlie.

Alastor:

Aponi:

Alastor: I will be retiring to bed, my friends!

Husker: You don't sleep.

Alastor: Maybe I will!

~~~~~

This was a mess. Idk if this was a good idea but liana asked for this.

[feral-mouse]

Lust 6 for all of your ocs 💕 i wanna know which ones i can cuddle

I got really into this so these are gonna be pretty long and are going under the cut pajdkskf

6) What is your oc's favorite way to show affection?

Dan: He's honestly got a lot of ways he loves to show affection. He's just filled with so much love. The easiest way for him to show affection is either by spending a lot of time with you or doing stuff for you or by getting you lots of gifts (expect a lot of cheesecakes from him). However though, he does honestly love physical touch. He's generally a touchy-feely person towards those he likes. Lots of leaning and hugging and patting uwu

Randy: He's also a huge fan of physical touch and spending quality time. He's even more touchy-feely than Dan though. This man does not know what personal space is lol. He will straight up use you as a pillow and crush you underneath his weight to feel as much of you as possible. Absolutely loves cuddling and will do it absentmindedly. He also does love biting though so you're also gonna have to watch out for that-

Davis: Davis is very weird when it comes to love, because generally he doesn't want to show it if he has a crush psjdlskf. He doesn't wanna admit that he likes someone 😔. But that doesn't mean he doesn't show off his affection. His main way of showing affection is through acts of service. He'll chalk it up to "you're just don't have the capabilities like I do to do this specific thing" to hide the fact that he's doing it because he cares pajdxkdj. He'll do things for you without a second word coming out of his mouth. He does like cuddling though, but he's gonna need some time to build up to that without feeling embarrassed osjdlfl

Ronny: Ronny is also a huge quality time and physical touch kinda guy. He's not good with words (and any words that come out of his mouth is just gonna be mean 90% of the time so). His favorite way to show affection is to annoy the fuck out of them. If he sees them walking down the street, he is going up to them and starting a conversation. If he's annoying, that means they're going to notice him. If he's really into you or finds you really interesting, expect to start seeing him more. He also loves to lean and grab and play with his crush's hair. Will also poke a lot to get a rise out of them lol

Elowyn: She typically resorts to words of affirmation and acts of service. She's got a lot of work on her hands (and probably if you're in contact with her, you are going to be one of her test subjects so psjdlskf), so she generally doesn't have much free time on her hands to spend with you (although if she did, she would make tea for the both of you and watch movies together or just sit in silence appreciating each other's company). She does love showing little acts of kindness though, whether it's making you a warm drink, or tenderly dressing your wounds, or stroking your head to calm you down. She's also going to flood you with words on how you're one of the best subjects she's ever had and how much she's taking a liking for you, which is surprising even to herself. She may also subtly flirt with you to see how you react to that

Cyrus: Showing affection is difficult for this man because he has the belief that he should stay away from as many people as possible. But he is weak sometimes pzhxkksk. He's kinda similar to Davis in that he loves doing acts of service but making excuses as to why he's doing them in the first place. If you call him out on it, you're definitely going to get blushing and a really bad excuse. It's going to take him a lot of time and a lot of therapy to get him to comfortably do anything else lol. But that doesn't mean you still can't cuddle him. He'll be very silent, face flushed red, and won't make any eye contact lol. Maybe occasionally you'll get a couple of pats from him

[missmorosis]

Jealous

anonymous asked:

I’m BEGGING for a hc where zuko and sokka like the reader and get jealous of one another. Plot can be anything! :)))

anonymous asked:

oomgomg Hii u replied to me earlier 🥺👉🏽👈🏽 LOVE THAT YOU LOVE SOKKA!!! I love zuko too but sokka needs more appreciation imo.

Would u ever write an zuko and sokka x reader or oc where they both like the same person? Because I find myself conflicted between who I like more because they’re great for totally different reasons! Idkk but anyways looking forward to reading more of ur work!! And happy early valentines dayyyy 💕💕💕💕💕

please this prompt makes my true beauty heart go 📈📈📈

ALSO THE TWO OF YOU BASICALLY HAD THE SAME REQUEST LSAKDJS

enjoyyy <33 THIS MAKES NO SENSE IM SORRY

Pairings: Sokka x Reader x Zuko

Warnings: fainting and sickness (sighh yes yes i wrote another sickfic IM OBSESSED) & it may be the worst thing ive ever written-

Summary: a sick y/n is caught up in a love triangle... which boy is better?

Word count: 1.4k :)

The doorbell rang, and Y/N rushed to answer it. She opened the door to reveal a smiling Sokka. He was your best friend, so he normally showed up unannounced once in a while.

"Hey, Y/N!" he said.

"Hi, Sokka! What brings you here?"

"Knowing you, you probably haven't had dinner yet?" She nodded with a laugh. "Wanna get something to eat?"

It was past dinnertime, and she still wasn't hungry... In fact, the thought of food made her nauseous. Y/N nodded anyways, and Sokka smiled, getting his car keys out of his pocket.

Driving past the streets, the two blasted music out of the car's speakers, and Sokka sang along to all of the pop songs on the radio. Y/N laughed at the silly expression Sokka had on his face, even though the music was way too loud; it was honestly giving her a headache, but it was okay. She looked out the window to see Zuko, another close friend, heading out of the Jasmine Dragon. He must've just finished work...

"Oh, it's Zuko!" she chirped, giving him a wave. Sokka said nothing, his singing quieting down to silence, but he pulled over anyways to say hi. He parked his car, and the two hopped out.

“Y/N!” Zuko ran over with a huge grin on his face, waving his hand as a greeting. “Nice to see you again! Oh... hi Sokka.” Zuko’s cheerful smile slowly morphed into one of distaste when he noticed that she had been with Sokka.

“Hey, Zuko,” Sokka acknowledged. Y/N turned to see that Sokka’s face also fell when his eyes met Zuko’s. Sokka slung an unnecessary protective arm over her shoulders, and Y/N cleared her throat to clear up the growing tension. Shaking Sokka’s arm off, she opened her mouth to speak.

"Is it cold out here or is it just me?" Y/N blurted, causing Zuko and Sokka to look at each other worriedly. Sokka pulled off his jacket to throw it onto her. He zipped it up, and met her eyes.

"It's not cold at all... you feeling okay?" Y/N nodded slowly, signaling that she was okay, so Zuko and Sokka dropped the subject. She could have sworn it was chilly out.

"Anyways," Sokka continued, heading into his car, "wanna go grab dinner together or something?” The other two nodded, also following Sokka into the car. Y/N hopped into the passenger seat, and Zuko was stuck in the back seats. She could tell he wasn’t happy with her sitting next to Sokka, but she ignored it. They were just being plain childish, and it was giving her a headache.

“Oh, Y/N,” Sokka started. “I went to-”

"Sokka, go left," Zuko interuppted. Sokka sighed and turned the wheel, following through with Zuko’s command. 

As the car turned, it pushed Y/N to the side of the car, forcing her to lean on the car door. Deciding not to get up, she nuzzled closer to the car window, her warm breath fogging it up. She blinked, trying to stop the growing sleepiness clouding her head. 

Y/N heard Sokka ramble on about his day in the background, and her eyes closed for a second... just a second. She was just so... exhausted...

"Hey... Y/N? Are you asleep?" Sokka's voice asked softly. He poked her side, making her slightly stir awake. She tried to lift her heavy eyelids. Wow, she felt so sluggish.

"What, is Sokka boring?" Zuko laughed, as Sokka gasped, offended. "I should have been the one driving next to her."

"Y/NNN- how could you fall asleep in the middle of my story?" Sokka shook Y/N awake with his free arm. "Come on, you can't leave me with Zuko."

"Hmm?" Y/N hummed quietly, letting them know she was awake. Her voice was raspy; she had a sore throat, but the boys seemed to wave it off as a symptom of sleepiness.

"Am I too boring for you?" Sokka asked.

"No, of course no-"

"So you're saying you'd be with Sokka rather than me?" Zuko accused.

"N-no-"

"So you'd rather be with Zuko?"

"What? You guys are arguing for no reason," she mumbled, but the two boys ignored her.

"Of course she'd rather be with me; she's just too nice to say that to your face," Sokka argued, his voice increasing in volume.

"No, then why would she fall asleep while you were talking? You're boring." Zuko's voice was also loud.

"Please stop," Y/N whispered, rubbing her temples, and this gesture didn’t go unnoticed. Sokka and Zuko froze at once, watching her with concern.

"You have a headache? Are you sick?" Sokka asked immediately. Y/N sighed and nodded.

"Is... that why you fell asleep- because you were sick?" Zuko added, and Y/N nodded again weakly, and sighed. Sokka reached out next to him and put his hand on her forehead.

"Y/N, you're burning up..." Sokka gasped.

"Let me see," Zuko mumbled, placing his hand on her forehead. He sighed. "Y/N, you feel really warm."

"I'm so sorry for waking you up- it would have been better for you to stay asleep," Sokka apologized.

"No, no. It's my fault." She shivered, pulling Sokka's jacket tighter. “If I knew I was sick, I shouldn’t have come with you guys.”

"Here, have my jacket, too." Zuko wrapped his jacket over her as well, draping it over her shoulders.

"She doesn't need more than one, Zuko," Sokka scoffed quietly. "Anyways, we can go home if you'd like?"

"Oh, no, don't worry about me! We can go get dinner or something, it's just a headache. It'll go away," she reassured them.

"I don't know..." Zuko said. "Maybe we can get something to eat at your house?" Sokka turned around, heading back towards Y/N's home.

"I agree, you need rest." Sokka looked at her in the mirror. "Sorry to break it to ya, but you don't look so good."

"Okay... if that's alright..." she said, and Sokka smiled.

Everyone arrived at Y/N's house, and Zuko helped you out.

"Shall we?" he asked, gently grabbing your hand.

"C'mon, Y/N," Sokka said, glaring at Zuko. He grabbed your other hand, and pulled you along.

"Y/N," Zuko muttered.

"Zuko, let go of her," Sokka said, warningly.

"Who do you think I am? I don't have to listen to you," Zuko snapped back.

"You guys are driving me insane, can't you both just shut up and get along?" Her voice now matched theirs in volume, and the two stopped arguing, looking apologetic.

Boy, were you lightheaded all of a sudden. She staggered on her feet, and she buried her face in her hands. Not now...

"What's wrong?" Sokka's voice immediately asked.

"Are... are we scaring you? We promise it's not going to get too serious..." Zuko sounded concerned. She could feel both of the boys' arms hovering around her body, trying to protect her, catch her if she fell, or give her reassurance.

"No, no..." she breathed. "I'm.. fine..." With that, she promptly passed out.

Both boys rushed to be the one who caught Y/N. Zuko scooped her up into his arms, and he carried her into her room, leaving Sokka alone.

Zuko gently laid her down onto her bed, pulling the blanket over her. With a swift kiss that he was tempted to do all evening, he got up and headed out the door.

"Well..." he said, glancing at Sokka. The atmosphere was now awkward, and neither boy was going to leave for a while...

Y/N woke up, and judging from her headache and how warm she felt, she wasn't any better. Groaning, she got out of bed, expecting to be alone, but she was wrong.

She opened her eyes to see two boys asleep on the couch. They had stayed...

Medicine was laid out for her on the counter, and she gladly took it.

"Y/N?" Zuko's voice croaked, making her jump.

"Oh, hey... I wasn't expecting you two to stay..." she said, and he rolled his eyes.

"Of course we stayed... you feeling better?" Concern was written all over his face.

"I still feel like trash..." she answered truthfully.

"Maybe I can kiss it better," Sokka said with a small, playful smile, now awake as well, and she laughed.

"Anyways, thank you both..." She gave a quick kiss on both of their foreheads, making both of them blush. "Now, get some rest at home... I'll be fine."

"No way, I'm staying," both said at the same time. Y/N sighed; there was no way of getting rid of them, and she loved them for that.

"Do you need anything?" Sokka asked, getting up to get her some water.

"Nah, I'm alright... we can watch a movie, though?" She flopped onto the couch, in between the two boys. She turned on the classic Meet the Robinsons and laid back.

Both boys rested their heads on her shoulders, and she laughed.

"You two are idiots, you're going to get sick." They shrugged, and she smiled.

LMAOBDJJEEK OKAY WHOO IM TIRED BUT I WANTED TO GET SOMETHING OUT

this is totally unedited too IM SORRY

taglist (send an ask to get added!) @urmomoness @zuko-is-the-sun @busyforkuvira @appa-gaangnam-style @xxspqcebunsxx @akiris @welovediaaxx @ray-ofmoonlight @sokkaandzukosimp @u-4iia @sunnimochix @kaylove12

Zuko taglist: @duh-dobrik

[botwstoriesandsuch]

hey Kip! I’m sending asks into different writer’s askboxes, inquiring about cool themes/development facts/stuff the author wants to share about their personal favorite work of their own. What’s yours? :)

Ok so this ask is old and when I first got it I was like “dang I don’t really have a lot to talk about, what should I talk about I could those revalink headcanons the Kip Cut that turned into a working fic uhh hmm maybe I’ll just make something new to talk about real quick” and then I did and now there is a 12+ chapter Revalink fic in my drafts and I’m gonna talk about that now, whoopsie doopsie [click "j" to skip]

aHEM, OK so allow me to break out the primary school white board because yeah, I have a lot of thoughts and the oxford comma has not yet made it’s home into my brain. oh and spoilers for paraphrase. for both all of Chapter one and future events in later chapters, but it’s really nothing you couldn’t surmise from the AO3 tags

so I really wanted to tell the story of Revali and Link learning and struggling to love again after the less-than-fortunate events of Botw, but I wanted a...how you say...fresher, approach on the subject? Like I know we always say that fanfic writers writing the same tropes and stories time and time again is good because we eat that shit up--but at the same time I had asian parenting as was told never to half ass anything ever, no matter what. So now I'm gay and extra and have depression maybe and oh would you look at that @motherhyrule has dropped a beautiful revalink prompt right into my lap

Great so now that we have, that, I shall take you on the step by step process on how to make a :sparkles: story. So step one is to spend at least five to eleven business days for your white board to dismantle your genre and themes and work them around your character arcs. Luckily I have prepared one ahead of time

s*breaks out those laser pointers that uni professors use* So let's start with defining genre. As define because I HATE you, fuck you. I want you to suffer and writhe on the ground, motherfucker. How dare you think that I would give you nothing but pure predictable fluff, fuck you and yours

is the set of expectations that your audience has when consuming a piece of media

And the great thing about fanfiction is that unlike movies or book where the genres are more vague like, "oh it's a noir mystery genre. so there's a crime, maybe a murder, and a detective and a criminal." or "oh it's a teen romance. so there's some white people and a morally questionable six-pack 18 year old love interest that will be painted as desirable for some reason" BUT with fanfiction HALF of the work out the window, because as soon as you see those #revalink #aro sidon #zelpha #revali is an idiot and #found family tags you already know what's up.

Now what's so great about genre and expectation? Well the fun thing about it is that

I will use it to fucking break you.

... ... ...

<3 For example! <3

In Chapter 1: Holes, you already expect there to be revalink, you already expect them to be soulmates with the soulmarks and there's angst and yadayada ya. Revali and Link have to match because thatttss what this is all about, this is about them! This is about cute, little soulmarks and romantic words!

But whoooopsie doopsie [disney channel laugh track plays] they DON'T match anymore! Link's got a different mark! The number one rule of this entire genre has been broken whoooooooooooooooops. *ba dum tiss*

You might notice with a lot of my writing that I do this a lot, this whole..."oop but there's one little thing that's different." TebaSaki sick fic? Ok cool, but what if Teba burns an irreplaceable relic of the Rito champion to fight a wizzrobe first to characterize why his dumbass clicks with Saki. Mipha deciding to persue Link? Ok what if she chases after a dragon to externalize this conflict as she pierces it's flesh for a scale. Link fighting a Lynel? Ok but what if it's actually a sidlink angst fic in disguise and it's also world building on how Link deals with the bloodmoon that erases all of his efforts which is sort of similar to how his existence was erased from Hyrule 100 years ago mwaahahaha! Ok now that I say this outloud I think I just have a pattern of using fight scenes to externalize character growth. I like fight scenes...anyways.

I think another great thing about the realm of fanfiction is that with the tagging system, I can basically use a chekhov's gun sort of deal, without doing any writing. You know I'm gonna use that gun marked "soulmates" but you don't know when I'm gonna shoot it, and you SURE as hell don't know how.

And huzzah! One of the main points of conflict both drives the tension between Revali and Link, solidifies the unique genre and setting of this world, while also creating a new mystery that will carry over for the next few chapters.

Is Revali right in that Link's rebirth makes him destined for someone new now? What will Link do with the information that his soulmark has changed? Why did it change? Did Revali's change as well? How does anything fucking work right now?

And sure, you might be able to tell where things will end with them, but you sure as fuck will not know how because I HATE you. Fuck you. I want you to suffer and writhe on the ground, motherfucker. How dare you think that I would give you nothing but pure predictable fluff. I am not your goddamn fairy godmother, I will do as I fucking please. You will suffer as you fucking deserve, fuck you and your little tiny--

/j

Oh! But you might have noticed on my little planning whiteboard thing that there was a little T-Chart! For Revali and Link! That's because the next important thing besides plot (and in a lot of cases, including this one, it's argued to be even MORE important than plot) is

~CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT~

[to the tune of that history of the world video on youtube]

So yes, it's a little T-Chart outlining their character views in relation to the themes. And the great thing about themes is that they're not something you can necessarily predict in the same way you can with the genre and plot.

But now see, I'm very lazy so I'm just gonna plagiarize @hyrule-kingdom-updates thingy [that you should read btw] because they said my point quite clear enough

Now I don't really need to care about those points about bond and relationships and being understood, because I'm dealing with already established canon characters. I'm not some NERD who dabbles with entire casts of ocs who even cares about ocs not me that's for sure ahaahahaahahahahahaahahahahahAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH *cries in my orphaned WTTU fic* AHAHAHA*sobs*DONT FUCKING LOOK AT ME THAT WAY I SWEAR--

/j I love ocs

But the points I do wanna focus on is the idea that characters provide new perspectives on the theme, and that characters growth can be tracked based on their wants, lies, and needs.

So see, themes can be predicted the same as genre/plot because while you can have the same fanfic plots and tropes, theme will always vary!

Sometimes it's a journey of selfworth with Revali! Sometimes it's an exploration of trauma with Link. Sometimes it's about how you deal with the vulnerabilities of love with Mipha. Sometimes there's straight up NOOOO theme, and people just be fucking, and kissing, and baking, and having a good time. And that is totally fine too!

But I'm not a fucking coward.

I'm gonna weave in themes with my plot, because I fucking can.

I'm not a weakling like you.

Do you hear me, 2019 Kip? Do you hear me Demmers? Do you hear me Quill? I'm coming for your ass. You think you're so great, but I'm coming for you. Rest assured that your graves will be as deep as your sculptured pride--

Heeeere is that T-Chart again, plus more!

yyyyyYou might notice that Revali and Link are quite parallel, to paraphrase. Ayoooo, see what I did there? *dabs* I'm a genius. Anywho

They both start off the same way: 100 years ago they were in love and happy. Basically the equivalent of childish naivety. For the first time in their lives, life is whimsical and charming, and they make each other happy. In fact, it's almost a flaw with how they perceive this happiness. But don't worry! It doesn't last long!

You know what happens.

I think the chart is pretty self explanatory. Revali builds walls fast enough to give a republican a wet dream. Meanwhile Link makes every aromantic in the chat groan with his doubled down sentiments in the idea that his chances of being truly happy again are gone.

Now, I can't exactly describe the full on process of the inbetweens, and where Revali and Link are gonna go from here, because...you have to read it for yourself! Heehee...but something I did think was fun was how these character views on the themes are revealed. Because you'll notice that, I never give exposition. Ever.

Ok well, let me rephrase that. I never give exposition scenes. I will never give you a big LOTR fancy wizard scene explaining the ins and outs of a character's question or the world's magic or whatever. I'm a very impatient Kip, and I value efficiency. Nonono, it's all about multi tasking, baby!

Chapter 1: Holes is divided into three parts.

Post 100 Years - Medoh (Establishes Ghost Rev/Bonk Head Link's view)

100 Years Ago - Flight Range (Establishes old Revalink views)

Post 100 years - Mark (Develops Ghost Rev/Bonk Head Link's view in contrast to who they once were)

I think the way that you structure flashbacks is incredible vital, as it's a very quick way to characterize people without having them say stuff like "I used to be like you, until I took an arrow to the knee" or whatever.

And with the main structure of the chapters and the fic as a whole is focus on their characters, that means I can hide whatever other stuff I want in those scenes, becuase you're too busy absorbing the fun character stuff to realizing I'm giving you boring exposition. Like for example:

Post 100 Years - Medoh and Mark

Foreshadowing for the end of the fic

Set up connection to Medoh with Revali

Link has defeated Windblight

Link has been visiting Revali every night for the past few days

Link has already met Kass and presumably Teba

Link doesn't have the Mastersword

Revali's Gale is still an ability that needs master and practice on Link's end

And that's just some of the stuff.

And see, the only reason I can efficiently give all of this information regarding character, and even exposition, is because of the theme. The themes make everything relevant, and everything circles and encompasses one another, so there's absolutely no wasted space. I mean don't even get me started on how it's gonna be to characterize the other characters around this

I don't wanna talk about the other characters too much either because that's spoilers, but you can probably take a gandar based on my notes.

And oh my god this is just on the theme of the faults that come with "soulmates" and "true love" and all that, and how even magical destined relationships still require work and effort, and that no one thing or person solves all your problems. And that's not even TOUCHING the shit on trauma and scars. I didn't think it was even possible for me to talk about botw without touching on that, ha. Ah well, I've been talking for too long.

Revalink has a lot o' writing potential so das pretty cool yeah, I am excite

[spencersawkward]

switchblade faith // spencer reid - chapter 1

summary: one month after joining the BAU, Clea is still settling in. between solving murders and getting acclimated to DC, the only comfortable thing in her life is her friendship with Dr. Spencer Reid.

relationship: fem!OC/Spencer Reid

word count: 3.4k

hi all! welcome to my new story.

I've never written a baby Spence fic before, but I'm gonna try my best. I just wanted to get something out of the way before the book starts:

aside from the fact that it's young Spencer, this book isn't placed in a specific season. I might pull cases from different episodes, but the characters will remain the same. I've included Emily and Rossi as characters because I couldn't bear to have a story without either of them (wouldn't want to subject any of you to a Prentiss-less world).

that's pretty much it. I'm glad you're here. if you wanna read my other stories, my masterlist is here.

happy reading :)

"HA!" I slap my hand down on the pile of cards and slide it towards me, organizing them in a neat pile with a smug expression.

"this game is a sham." Spencer sighs, reaching for his book.

"you're just mad you lost." I raise an eyebrow and shuffle the cards again. "you don't wanna play another round?"

"why would I? the only skill this game requires is fast reflexes." he runs hazel eyes down the page with an alarming quickness. I scoff at his disinterest.

"maybe if you trained those reflexes as much as you trained that big genius brain of yours, you'd get a leg up." Morgan teases from his spot next to me. Spencer glances at him with a frown, his cheeks turning a light pink, before looking to me. I throw up my hands.

"he said it, not me." secretly, I smile at the fact that Derek is backing me up.

"I could beat any of you in poker." Reid defends.

"easily. it helps that I don't even know how to play." I slide the cards back into the holder and cross my arms over my chest with a sigh.

"you don't know how to play poker?" he's shocked.

"I told you, I hate card games like that!" I emphasize. things like poker, blackjack, anything that involves multiple players, I usually don't enjoy much. Emily glances up from her case file with a tiny smirk.

"why?"

"I'm a sore loser." I admit, averting my eyes. there's also the risk factor involved, which includes giving up coins or pretzels or peanuts if I lose. I tend to cling tightly to all three. Prentiss lets out a laugh and Spencer flips the page of his book.

"and winner, apparently."

"you're sassy today, aren't you?" I grin at him, pleasantly surprised.

in the month I've been working here, I haven't spoken to Spencer very much. he's been polite and I've gotten to know his intellect quite well, but he doesn't spend a lot of time with us outside of work. when we go out to get drinks, he either declines or heads home before we can even ask, a bag full of books pressed to his side.

I think he just takes a while to get comfortable around new people-- that's what JJ said when I asked why he seemed to be avoiding me. the fact that he played cards with me today felt like a victory in itself, so I'll take what I can get.

Spencer doesn't reply to my dig, only crosses his long, narrow legs and settles into his book.

"we should start briefing before we land." Hotch and Rossi walk over from their spots at the front of the plane to sit on the couch by our table. I nod eagerly and watch as Emily flips open her laptop to FaceTime Penelope about the case.

the first couple cases were more difficult than I expected because I had never worked in the field before joining the BAU, but I'm starting to get used to flying around constantly and examining actual dead bodies. working sex crimes meant I spent most of my time in front of a computer screen or just staying in the office. this is incredibly different-- which I'm starting to find might not to be a bad thing.

"--the virus killed her hard drive and left that on the screen." Penelope explains, referring to the picture of Heather Woodland's computer.

"'for heaven's sake, catch me before I kill more. I cannot control myself'." Morgan reads the message aloud from the case file. the words feel familiar in my mind and I try to remember where I've heard them before.

"that's exactly what William Heirens left behind." Spencer sparks the memory. I sit up straighter.

"the Lipstick Killer?" my fingertips trace over the case details. it's a weird aspect of the murder to emulate, especially because he didn't even leave the message in lipstick. I guess he's not really concerned with that; based on the unsub's previous victims, we have just under 36 hours to find her.

"his first victim was Melissa Kirsh, 26," Reid scratches his nose as he reads, frowning so hard that I start to think he'll form permanent wrinkles. he's got such a baby face, it's almost funny. "stab wounds, strangulation."

"so he stabbed her first, and then strangled her to finish the job?" Morgan repeats.

"what's with using a belt for the second murder?" Emily flips through the papers, confused. Spencer stiffens in his spot as he realizes this is the perfect time to share his freakishly expansive forensic knowledge.

"strangulation with your bare hands actually isn't as easy as you would believe. he probably tried it, found that it took too long, then stabbed her. and blood takes a long time to clean, so he decided a belt would be more efficient."

"he's perfecting his method." I can't tear my eyes away from the photos, despite the roiling sensation they put in my stomach. even with the things I've already seen, I don't think I'll ever get over photographs like this.

"we'll be landing soon and then we're meeting up with the Seattle field office. be ready to split up once we hit the ground." Hotch snaps shut his case file and stands up, breaking off to go sit alone. Rossi takes note of the old card deck that sits on the table.

"poker?" he looks between the four of us.

"nope." Emily chuckles.

"this one doesn't know how to play." Morgan gestures to me, causing Rossi to turn to me.

"were you raised in a barn?" he asks in his usual manner of speaking: blunt sarcasm with a hint of mockery. I frown sarcastically.

"something like that."

"at some point this week, we'll sit down and I'll teach you." he gets up, pats my shoulder, and walks over to join Hotch. I lower my voice once he's far enough away.

"is he actually gonna make me do that?"

"you don't know Rossi." Morgan shakes his head slowly, slides his headphones back on, and sinks into his seat.

"I'll join and bring JJ with me." Emily winks at me reassuringly, noting the tapping of my nail against the surface of the table. Rossi is a legend in the field and I've read all of his books, but didn't want to freak him out by telling him so. it was embarrassing enough when I met him and got tongue-tied while shaking his hand. he's got an elusive energy that intimidates me, and I'd prefer not to showcase that by humiliating myself with poker.

instead of dwelling on thoughts of how I'm going to fail in front of my idol, I open up one of my books and try to pass the time.

...

while I'm writing some notes on one of the many white boards scattered throughout the field office, I realize that I'm one of four other women in the room, including Emily. she's talking to Hotch and another agent at the opposite end of the room; Reid is unpacking his signature book bag and seems deep in thought. Rossi is reading a document. everyone around me seems to be in a hurry to do something, and I begin to feel dumb.

"you okay?" Morgan asks me. I realize that I've been standing with my marker hovering over the board. my fingertips press into my temple before I turn to him.

"yeah, definitely. just thinking." my mind travels to the map we've got pasted up and the red marker lines that Spencer has already created with the geographical profile.

"looks like we're getting the classic Seattle treatment." Derek points outside to the rain pelting the windows, streaming down the glass and distorting the glow of the city outside. it's gloomy today, with a slight chill running through the streets. I nod and turn back to my task, suddenly realizing something.

"he's willing to travel with the body." I mutter to myself. Morgan steps up next to me, crosses his arms across his chest.

"he must drive a vehicle that can conceal one, then." he glances over to Hotch to see what the unit chief has to say, but Spencer speaks up first.

"one in seven point four drivers in Seattle owns an SUV." it's like a flip switches at the mention of a statistic, diverting his attention from something nebulous in his mind to the tangible case. he's a little similar to a robot.

"an Explorer with tinted windows?" Morgan speaks again as he looks over the case photos.

"those rate higher among women." Spencer again.

"sure, but how do we know it's his car?" I wonder.

"what about a Jeep Cherokee?" Hotch chimes in, almost startling me with the deep register of his voice. I pull my bottom lip between my teeth as I think on it.

"Jeeps are more masculine." Reid comes close to me in order to examine the picture I'm holding. he smells like clean laundry and some nice soap scent that I can't place. maybe it's the gel he uses to slick back his hair. no cologne or aftershave. I don't think he'd need to shave, what with his smooth baby face.

Spencer has some special quirks that make him a little more interesting. he usually avoids physical contact with other people-- doesn't shake hands-- but at other times, he doesn't seem to have self-awareness. like right now, where the shoulder of his red sweater is just barely touching mine. I hand him the picture and step away.

"unsubs love to assert their masculinity."

Hotch nods along, encouraging me to share more of what I'm thinking. after swallowing down a lingering nervousness, I tap the push pin marking where the last body was dumped. "he dropped her out-of-state, so he probably has a previous knowledge of law enforcement. maybe he's got a criminal record?"

"good, Williams." Hotch praises me. my fist clenches triumphantly at my side as he turns to the agent who has been watching us intently. "when do we meet with your task force?"

"four." the man replies. I balk at this, my posture shifting. the shortest time constraint I've ever had here has been a full day. it's already one in the afternoon.

"you want an accurate profile by four today?" I glance between Morgan and Spencer, but the latter is rocking back and forth on his heels with his eyes glued to the white board. Morgan doesn't seem put off by it.

"we can do that." Hotch scowls, snapping shut the case file with a finality that tells me we're about to split up. "Dave and Morgan, head to the last dump site. Williams, Reid, I want you to talk to Heather's brother and try to find out what you can about her life. Prentiss and I will stay here in case of new developments."

I nod curtly, grab my jacket, and glance over at Spencer. he runs his hand over his hair, although I can't imagine what there is to smooth down, then walks over to me.

"you ready to go?" I ask, brandishing the file. he and I have only done two interviews together; I spent most of my beginning weeks working with Emily to get a feel for the job. both times with the boy genius have been fine, if not a little awkward.

he nods in answer to my question. "would you mind driving?"

"no license?" I tease to lighten the mood, but he doesn't get the joke. instead, he frowns at me with something of a distracted expression, adjusts his bag.

"no, I don't like driving in the rain."

"oh," I recover quickly and put a friendly smile on my face. "no problem."

"thanks." he walks ahead of me and I cringe at my own behavior. he acts so differently from earlier on the jet that I start to wonder if I did something wrong. maybe he's just in his head or something; I know I would be if I had an IQ that enormous.

when we get to the house of Heather Woodland's brother, a gorgeous golden lab greets us in the entryway. she puts her paws up on my legs and I reach down to scratch behind her ears with a smile on my face.

"Sandy, calm down." her owner grabs her collar gently to calm her. "sorry."

"no, it's fine, I love dogs." I wave it off and step inside. Spencer is eyeing Sandy warily, but she seems just as eager to say hi to him as she was to me. when she lets out a singular, enthusiastic bark, he startles.

"Mr. Woodland," I suppress my laugh by changing the subject. "I'm Special Agent Williams and this is Special Agent Dr. Reid."

we shake hands, my colleague giving his usual wave and polite smile. the interviewee takes in Spencer's appearance. I know what's coming.

"you look too young for medical school." Woodland says to Reid. this has happened a couple times since I joined the team, but Spencer never seems to mind. if anything, he lights up at the opportunity to share the reason for his official title.

"they're PhD's. three of them." he gives a little smile as we walk into the house, me shaking a few stray raindrops from my hair.

"so... are you a genius or something?" Heather's brother leads us past the hallway into the living room, which is unkempt and littered with pictures, catalogs, and toys. he must have kids in school right now. that would also explain the breed of dog.

"I don't believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified."

"he's being modest," I glance over at Spencer. "Dr. Reid can read 20,000 words a minute-- he's definitely a genius."

Woodland stares at Spencer for a second as he tries to fathom the speed at which someone's mind would have to turn in order to process all that information. I still can't imagine it. Spencer's eyes avoid Woodland's shyly. instead, he watches me as I pet Sandy.

soon after, we ask him about Heather's personality and tendencies. her brother is more than willing to give us all the information we need. I'm surprised, however, by my partner's ease at wandering around Woodland's house, flipping through the magazines on top of the TV and reading the spines of books on shelves. he's quite conspicuous about it.

about halfway through my mental list of questions, Sandy keeps jumping up and wagging her til.

"I'm gonna take her to the backyard quick," Woodland tells us. "one second."

he ducks out of the room and I wait until I know he's out of earshot before sidling up beside Reid.

"there's an immediate relationship established between a buyer and a seller," he tells me, holding up a Datsun Z catalog. we know that she was in the market for one. "if I want to coax a young woman into my car..."

"offer her a test drive." I finish his sentence. of course, within ten minutes of sifting through this woman's house, Spencer has figured out the ruse used to lure her. Woodland returns a moment later with a smile, but we tell him that we've gotten the information we need before leaving.

in the car, Spencer theorizes about the unsub's mental condition as I try to navigate traffic in the storm. thunder rumbles overhead, occasionally sending a vibration through the car. my knuckles tighten around the wheel a bit. I also hate driving in the rain. his rambles fills the silence, however, and somewhat soothe my nerves.

"he doesn't have the MO of a paranoid psychotic. dumping the bodies out in the open, with a weapon nearby... that doesn't align."

"he covers their eyes with duct tape multiple times over, though. he knows he's going to kill them, but he doesn't want them to see his face?" my fingertips drum over the wheel nervously.

"what's wrong?" Spencer asks suddenly, glancing at my hands and then at my face. I still my movements at the change in subject.

"huh? nothing. I just don't like driving in the rain, either."

"oh. I'm sorry." he straightens a bit in his seat. the apology surprises me a little, but he seems genuinely sympathetic. I guess I really don't know him that well.

"it's cool."

we fall into an awkward silence and I bite my lip. we should get back to talking about the case. heaven knows Spencer has more facts to spew, more theories to share about this unsub. anything is better than the gap in conversation. I open my mouth to say more about what we learned at the house, except Spencer speaks first.

"so... how are you liking working here?" he asks awkwardly. it takes a second for the question to register with me. he sounds uncomfortable whenever we're alone and that makes me uncomfortable in turn. where everyone else was quick to include me in their jokes and discussions, Reid always sounds like talking to me exhausts him. it's obvious that he's socially awkward. there's no judgement from me; I'm just surprised that he's pushing to talk about non work-related subjects.

"I like it," not really an accurate summation. I don't think a heart-to-heart is exactly the right move when talking to him. "a little stressful, though."

"you worked in sex crimes before, right?" he looks out the window. there isn't much to see except for the rain-blurred skyline. I nod.

"yep."

"that sounds... hard." he shifts in his seat as he tries to come up with more points of conversation. it's kind of endearing, honestly. I throw him a bone.

"so is profiling."

"why'd you switch?" his eyes flit over to mine as he quickly adds, "if you don't mind me asking."

I take a second to come up with an answer. of course, there's the classic response: I've always wanted to help people— which isn't wrong— it's also not the whole answer. all through college and the Academy, I had my head focused on one thing. I could interview killers and get inside their heads, but there's something entirely different that you don't get from pure research. and one person inspired that in me before I had finished high school.

"don't tell him I said this, but I really wanted to work with Rossi." I say in a hushed tone. there's a slight smile on my lips because I haven't told anyone on the team in fear of being teased. I don't think Spencer is likely to gossip with Rossi about me, though.

"really?" now he sounds surprised.

"I've read all his books and I've been to a couple lectures. he doesn't remember me, evidently." the thought is more funny than embarrassing. he spoke at my college a few years back and I recall being on the edge of my seat, trying to come up with the courage to ask the questions that filled my head. I was too shy.

"does he know you're a fan?" Spencer loosens up a bit.

"nope," we pull off the freeway as we near the field office. I stop at a red light and look over. "I didn't want to embarrass myself with the whole 'your work changed my life' spiel."

at this, Spencer lets out a short, nervous giggle. it's a nice sound, that laugh. it makes me smile when he seems to relax in his seat.

"that's exactly what I did." he says. I frown.

"you told him his books changed your life?" I blush as I realize I just inadvertently made fun of him.

"I, um... well, I got excited to talk about his research." he averts his gaze again and his cheeks turn a slight pink. there's a dimple in his cheek, I notice, that keeps tugging upward. this is my first time having a non-forced moment with Spencer alone; a wave of satisfaction washes over me as I realize the potential for another friend here.

"trust me, I get it." I laugh. we pull into the parking ramp for the field office and I find a spot by the door. Spencer hoists that bag into his lap and runs his hand through his hair. when I pull the key out of the ignition, he waits for me to get out of the car before we start walking toward the door.

it's small, but I appreciate that he doesn't run off without me. we don't talk as we walk, our footsteps echoing along the cement walls.

oh my god first chapter holy fuck! it's short, but I don't wanna overwhelm. I'm so excited for this book!

[stars-in-our-skies]

this might not make a lot of sense but I just need to word vomit right now cuz it bothers me a lot. not proof read, etc. don’t take this as a serious thinkpiece I just wanna spark discussion.

I feel like there’s a serious discussion to be had about oc culture, the current puritanical view of media, and how that interacts with minorities. when I say that you might think like “wtf are you talking abt” but listen, I think it’s connected.

there’s this idea in fandom spaces that there is a Correct Objective way to interpret media and, in turn, art. on the one hand, yes, we should respect the art others make, in a way that doesn’t erase their background or what the intended meaning of their art is; we shouldn’t disrespect personal pieces of queer work, of work made by pocs, of work by disabled people and their experiences. i get that; these works of art are important both personally and politically.

on the other hand, art is art. fiction isn’t real. sure it can AFFECT reality, but Blorbo From My Disney Show is not a real person. Blorbo is a narrative device used to portray real people, real feelings, real experiences, but Blorbo isn’t going to be offended if you say he’s a piece of shit and that you hate him. he’s not real. he can’t feel.

and, there seems to be this idea that if you interpret a piece of media in a different way than intended, that somehow YOU are personally ruining the work as a whole. like for instance, let’s say we have this character named Jane Randomsurname. let’s say Jane is a serial killer. the motives behind her crimes in the context of the story may be clear cut or they may be a bit more lenient, but regardless of the writers’ intentions, there will be people who interpret her character differently. this is because while the INTENTION behind janes crimes was objective, art is subjective to the interpreter, and people come from all sorts of different angles.

and, it’s one thing when we have Jane Randomsurname The Serial Killer. and it’s another when we have a character who is maybe morally grey or maybe meant to represent a minority (either implicitly or openly).

because, if Jane Randomsurname is implied or stated to be a lesbian, and a bisexual woman thinks Jane could be bisexual due to this woman sharing similar characteristics with Jane, there’s always going to be a clash of “she’s a lesbian” vs “she’s a bisexual woman.” Regardless of the authors intentions, there will be people who look at this (remember: not real) woman and interpret her story in any number of ways. i personally feel like this should be encouraged; art means different things to people, and no amount of tumblr user toenaillover836 raging over how Jane Isn’t A Lesbian will change her saying, in the book, “I’m a lesbian.” Individuals just don’t hold power like that over art; art is made by the artist, and everyone else sees what they want. That’s how it works. we can understand and respect the intentions behind that art while also coming up with our own interpretations. these things can coexist.

but there’s something to be said about current fandom culture and, as a result, what I’m dubbing “oc culture.” If we believe this previous argument to be true — that current fandom sees art as an objective thing to respect, and not an individual subjective experience — then of course it makes sense that these people care about who “owns” art or who “owns” this character.

because yeah sure, copyright laws exist. If you draw a pink mouse with green hair who’s starred in your webcomic strip since 2007, and suddenly someone ELSE uses that same concept, that’s pretty blatantly copying, yeah? But the thing is, DRAWING that pink mouse with green hair isn’t copyrighted. It doesn’t matter what you do with it if you claim it as a derivative work. You might own Jane Randomsurname, but the second the bigwigs at Randomcompany start airing her show, that art is out in the world for people to interpret. She’s no longer “your” character— you’ve chosen to share her with the world. Trying to micromanage the way people interact with Jane will not work; you’ll be frazzled at best and in a huge series of legal issues at worst. artists have tried and failed to do that exact thing many times in the past. Because Jane isn’t real, and people have a right to derivation.

Yeah, you “own” this closed species. but unless you’ve gone through all of the legal channels, you physically cannot stop someone from making their own. and you might not LIKE someone saying Jane Randomsurname The Serial Killer Is Bisexual, and you might say you’re “erasing her canon identity” (lol) but there isn’t jack shot you can do about it because toenaillover836 is legally allowed to interpret media however they want. You don’t “own” a piece of art; it isn’t an objective thing free from criticism. by definition, it CANT be.

and to expand- morally, what’s going to stop me from saying Jane ISNT a lesbian? even if she says in canon that she is, is it “erasing” representation to say she isnt? she’ll still be a lesbian in context. New readers won’t see your essay of a meta analysis on why Jane Is Bisexual. They’re going to read the book where she gets a girlfriend and go “oh she likes women.” she’s still groundbreaking by existing. In the same way that there will STILL be 100 straight characters for every queer one. In the context of Mega Corporation, she’s just as undesirable as a bisexual character as she would be as a lesbian character. Liberation isnt fought with the random fangirl online drawing her OTP. interpreting her art in a different way, or even reimagining her art into something else, will not cause the next civil war. it’s just art, man. the intention will still be there, toenaillover836 isn’t your enemy.

and this is where I’d talk about the “reclamation” of characters and ocs, and how that’s a bunch of fucking hypocrisy and bullshit, and why people feel the need to police ever piece of art ever made, but I’m just not in the mood tonight ok. You’ve got brain cells, use ‘em.