#this is the opposite of a call-out post i pinky swear

[thatshappinessforme]

When We Are Together - Pt. 1 (?)

omg...hi. i'm really here rn. posting this. at nearly 4 am on a monday morning. im nervous. i could vomit. so...this has been in my head for forever. literally. the idea is massive. it extends so far. it's seriously a whole universe in my little brain. it took so long to get the basis of this all out on paper, but, i'm hoping this is a series...a long one. the title isn't going to make much sense right now, but i pinky swear we'll get there eventually. so...without further ado...here she is...(EEK!) (also i have no idea how to set this post up so bear with me lol)

so i guess i just lost my fanfic writing vcard💌

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word count: 2.4k

cw: just a little swearing, maybe a bit of bad writing, also maybe typos?? might be a little boring because it’s mostly to just like set the scene idk? (eventually the plan is to have a lil smut or smth but this really is just an intro lol)

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The day starts as usual. You wake up to the sound of your alarm and your roommate’s hair dryer blaring through the thin walls of your Brooklyn walk-up. With a groan, you peel yourself out of the warmth of your bed, go to your desk, and open your laptop, holding onto a shred of delusional hope that one of your classes might be canceled for today; they rarely are…but you can’t blame a girl for being an optimist. 

You scroll through your inbox, refreshing, and refreshing – you really don’t want to go to class today. Blame the essay you’d procrastinated that you’d spent all of last night speed-writing. Blame senioritis. Blame the unpaid music publicity internship that you’d been letting eat up your time in hopes of scoring a good job. Blame the frigid snow and ice that seem to be taunting you from outside your window. But, luckily it’s a Friday.

You refresh your inbox one last time, just for good measure. And, something actually comes in. But, it’s not from one of your professors. It’s from some company named “Dirty Hit.”

You raise an eyebrow and open the email, thinking it must be something related to one of the countless jobs you’ve applied for in the last few weeks, preparing for graduation at the end of the semester.

Y/N,

I’m a representative with one of our bands here at Dirty Hit. We’re really impressed with your work and have an opportunity we’d love to discuss with you, if you have a free moment this week at some point. Are you based out of New York? Get back to us when you can. We’re looking forward to hearing from you.

Best,

The Dirty Hit Team

“That’s weird,” you whisper to yourself, reading the short, ominous email over and over again. It’s not everyday that a label reaches out to a random college student to work with them. You’re not really sure what they could possibly be impressed with. You’ve just done minor PR internship work with underground bands from the east coast – that’s not exactly impressive. It sure as hell doesn’t warrant an email.

“Y/N?,” you hear one of your roommates and best friend, Vivian, call from outside your door before walking in, not bothering to knock. The two of you are close, almost like sisters at this point. In some ways, you’re exactly the same person, but in others your polar opposites. She’s a little bit more outgoing than you are, but she always helps to get you out of your shell. “Do you think I can get this guy I’m talking to into the venue tomorrow night? It’s just at The Soundwave, right?,” she asks, plopping down on the corner of your bed. 

Shit. You completely forgot you signed up for an open mic tonight. You’d been playing your songs at small bars in Brooklyn and Manhattan for the past year or so. Songwriting had always been a bit of a hobby for you. So when you’re a broke college student in one of the most expensive cities in the world, you just find tricks to get you and your friends to do fun things for free. You’d learned a while back that performing at open mics usually meant you and your friends could get into bars and clubs without having to pay a cover, so you’d been spending your weekends doing that for a while. It’s all for fun. Sure, you like performing and put a lot into your songwriting, but pursuing it isn’t even quite a dream for you. You have an impending college degree you’ve worked your ass off for. In every sense of the word, music was a hobby for you. 

“Yeah, it shouldn’t be a problem. He might have to pay the cover, but it’s not like it’s the sort of thing where people buy tickets. You know the drill. But, obviously you’re my plus one, so no cover for you,” you nod, still staring at your laptop screen.

“What are you staring at, over there? Everything okay?,” she asks, getting up and moving to stand over your shoulder at your desk. You move your head a little so she can get a good look at the words on your screen. You watch her face as she reads the email, her lips dancing on each of the syllables as you watch her process it. “Dirty Hit? What the hell is that? Sounds like a porn company. Impressed with your work? Do you have a booming, secret OnlyFans I’m unaware of?,” she jokes. 

I laugh and playfully nudge her arm. “No, no,” you giggle, “It’s a record label, I think. I’ve heard the name thrown around a few times at my internship. I think they’re kinda big.” You tab over and do a quick Google search. Immediately, a sea of popular artists and bands pop up under the label.

“Holy shit. Beabadoobee? Bleachers? The 19 fucking 75? I have their fuckin’ poster on my wall. They’re cool as shit,” she reads over your shoulder. “I mean, I have no idea what they could possibly want from me. My resumè isn’t all that impressive. Sure, I’m planning on going into music PR, but there’s no reason why I would stand out against someone who has like…an actual career under their belt,” you ramble, trying to make sense of the 67 words in haunting your inbox. 

There’s a long pause, both of you trying aimlessly to make sense of the email. “Well, you’re gonna email them back, right?,” she eventually asks. You take breath, starting a reply to the email, leaving your cell phone number.

You try to focus on anything other than waiting for a reply. You do your best not to let your mind wander into the what-ifs, but as soon as you get done with your lectures for the day, you check your phone for any response.

Y/N,

Thanks for getting back to us so quickly. The band and management is also in New York for the next few months for a project. We would give you more information over email, but much of the matter is highly confidential. We have a studio space at Electric Lady in Greenwich Village that we could meet at, if that works for you. I know it is rather short notice, but could you meet this evening at some point? Let us know.

Best,

The Dirty Hit Team

You quickly reply to the email on your walk back from campus, confirming the meeting for later this evening. You get back to your apartment and practically tear apart your closet trying to figure out what the hell to wear. You know it’s a business meeting, but it’s also for some mystery band. You don’t want to dress unprofessionally, but you also don’t want to seem uptight. You decide on a black mini skirt with tights and a chunky black turtleneck sweater. You finish primping and step into Vivian’s room, practically out of breath from all the outfits you’ve tried on and scrapped.

“Okay, if you were a band looking for…a PR representative…? Would you hire me?,” you ask her, standing in front of her bed as she looks up from her phone. She looks you up and down and grins, “Of course I would, Y/N. You look great,” she reassures you, sensing you’re anxious, “So, you really think this is just a PR gig?”

“I mean, yeah. What else could it possibly be? It couldn’t be my music. I’m not even on any streaming platforms; I don’t promote it at all,” you say with certainty. She shrugs and smiles, before wishing you the best of luck as you head out the door.

You get on the subway and head to Electric Lady. The train has always been one of your favorite parts about living in New York for college. Putting your pink headphones on, looking out the window into the catacombs that stretch throughout the city, people watching. It’s where you did your best thinking. 

You get off the train and walk through the streets, your headphones on and your music blasting, only interrupted occasionally by Google Maps telling you where to turn and such. Eventually the robotic voice in your ear says “Arrived” and you look over your right shoulder…here it is. You're right on time. You go to open the doors, pushing on them gently; must still be locked. You sigh, assuming that its to be expected. That this is simply upholding a prophecy of some sort that the band and music-industry-folk run behind…until you hear a laugh.

“It’s a pull,” you hear a man’s voice call out with a slight chuckle. From just those three words, you’ve determined that he has one of the thickest English accents you’d ever heard. You look over your left shoulder and see a man leaning up against the wall of the studio smoking a cigarette. “What?,” you ask, confused as you look over to him. He has a hood on and you can’t make out his face, or what he was trying to tell you. “The doors. It says right on them. ‘PULL,’” he chuckles, tossing his cigarette to the ground and putting it out with his Adidas sneaker, walking over to you. “Oh, um, thanks, I’m an idiot. I almost gave up,” you chuckle, pulling the door open this time. The man follows you into the studio, holding the door open once you tug on it. You look back over your shoulder to thank him for holding the door, the first time he’s been close enough for you to make out his face; Christ, it’s Matty Healy.

“I know who you are,” he says to you with a cheeky grin as he starts walking into the back of the studio. You just stand there near the doorway, the gust of cigarette-scented, cold January air lingering around you. You’re perplexed, to say the least. He keeps walking down the hall before finally turning over his shoulder, “You’re just gonna stand there? You have a meeting. Wouldn’t be very professional of you to stand us up,” he teases dryly. You blink a few times before nodding, following him, still in a bit of disbelief that this was the band that had some sort of ‘interest’ in you.

He shows you into a studio in the back. Once he opens the door, there are four other men sitting there, three that you also recognize from your roommate’s wall. The other, a bit older, more professional looking. 

“Y/N! I’m Jamie, I manage these blokes. Thank you so much for agreeing to come meet with us today. I know everything was rather vague on the emails, but…we had to keep it that way. But, now that you’re here, let's talk, yeah? Are you familiar with The 1975?,” the older man asks you, in a super friendly manner as you sit down on a plush chair in the corner of the room. Every eye in the room is glued to you. The air is almost sticky with anticipation. You take a deep breath and try to slap on the most composed, thoughtful, professional smile you can manage.

“Um, yes! Of course,” you nod, tucking a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, “I’m actually a fan of you all. Really, I listen to your stuff with my friends – you’re fantastic.”

“Good, good. We’re glad to hear it,” he grins, looking around at the boys who also all look to be pleased. Even though everyone’s eyes are on you, you feel Matty's specifically, practically burning a hole in the side of your head as he stands, still leaning in the doorway.

“We’re impressed with you, Y/N. So, I’m just going to get on with it. George went to a little bar in Bushwick last month and sent us a video he took of you singing one of your originals…you’re bloody fantastic. We’re going on tour this summer. We want to do something a little different this time with our opener. We want to build someone from the ground up. You’re it. We want you. What do you say? You interested?,” he explains with a wide grin, his tone casual like he didn’t just tell you the craziest shit you’ve ever heard. 

Jamie’s words hit you in slow motion. You look around the room, the air moving from feeling sticky to feeling ice cold, jolting you awake. “I’m sorry…what the actual fuck did you just say?,” you blurt out blankly, any ounce of composure you may have had completely gone. 

You immediately catch yourself, your language, your lack of professionalism, though, “Oh my god, I’m sorry. I…that just came out of my mouth…I-,” your face goes bright red as you desperately try to correct yourself.

The room erupts in laughter, the men you recognize from Viv’s poster nearly barreling over off the sofa. Jamie’s jaw on the floor as he howls, slapping the table in front of him. You look over your shoulder to see that Matty’s still in the doorway, and he’s just standing there with his arms crossed, shaking his head at you with a shit-eating grin.

“Oh, I think we’re gonna get along quite well with this one,” he remarks, licking his lips, weirdly impressed with your mispeakings.

You can’t help but sigh softly and shake your own head when he looks at you like that; something in you shifting as if he’s the only person in the room; as if he was the only person who'd ever laid eyes on you; as if he was the only person ever. As if, the offer you got just moments before wasn’t the most absurd thing that had ever happened to you. As if you didn’t need to thoroughly think this all over. As if you could make the decision right now.

You look back over to Jamie, who’s still chuckling. Before you can give yourself the time to overthink, you swing one of your legs over the other, lean back into the chair and smirk, “Jamie, where the hell do I sign?” 

…and this is how it starts.

[mycurse1999]

Wrote my first screenplay earlier this summer. Ignore the formatting issues. I didn’t realize until it was too late that Google Docs isn’t as mobile friendly as I assumed.

Past Lives

By Daniel Coniff

TW: Child Abuse, Sexual Assault

EXT. OVERPASS — DAY — PRESENT

Standing on the side of a highway bridge overlooking a small dilapidated town in the middle of a desert are two boys — RAFAEL (13) and JOAQUIN (14). The boys wear worn, dirty casual summer clothes. An 80s Chevy El Camino with racing stripes and post-apocalyptic modifications sits on the road. It also has a logo of a red sword above a black and white banner that says “Peace Through Strength” on the sides. Metal crates are anchored to the car’s bed. Joaquin leans against the car with a cigarette in his mouth and quietly lights it.

Joaquin watches Rafael standing at the edge of the overpass as he aims a sniper rifle at the dilapitated town as an impromptu pair of binoculars. Joaquin quietly stows the lighter in his jeans pocket and takes a puff of the cigarette.

Joaquin

See anything, Rafie?

Rafael

(his sights are on a zombie struggling to get out of a Dairy Queen

drive-through window)

Whole place is crawling with zombies. Mark it infested.

Cigarette smoke wafts over to Rafael.

Rafael (cont’d)

(sniffing the air)

Is something burning?

Rafael lowers the rifle and looks around, using his naked eyes to look for smoke. Joaquin quickly flicks the cigarette behind him, and it lands on the other side of the overpass. However, Rafael isn’t an easily tricked kid. Quite the opposite, actually.

Joaquin

I don’t smell anything.

Rafael

(turns towards Joaquin)

Are you smoking again?

Joaquin

No. Why would I do that?

Rafael

(peers over the car and sees the cigarette. Rolls his eyes)

Dude, you said you were done smoking. You know how bad that

shit is, right? Dangerous, too. It could start a fire. Did you think

about that?

Joaquin

What are you accusing me for? I told you I was done with that

stuff. I am a new man with a purpose. Ain’t no way I

would take up smoking again.

Rafael

(walks around the car to the cigarette)

You know lying is a sin.

Joaquin

You know God isn’t real.

Rafael

(picks up the cigarette and walks back to Joaquin)

I heard that.

Rafael stands in front of the older boy and holds out the cigarette.

Joaquin

Ugghhh, fine, you caught me. What’s my punishment? BB to the

ass?

Rafael

(tosses the cigarette aside. facepalms after a short beat of

processing)

You’re so fucking stupid.

Joaquin

Oh? I thought name-calling was a sin.

Rafael

You know that shit is like gold, right? We buy food and water with

them. Did you forget? You have a serious problem. Should I take

you to the Rubytown Clinic?

Joaquin

Okay, man, I’m sorry. I won’t do it again, I promise.

Rafael

Pinky swear?

Joaquin pinky swears with Rafael. He is crossing his fingers behind his back. Rafael then places the rifle in the crate.

Rafael

We still got the map, or d’ya roll a joint when I wasn’t looking?

Joaquin

Yeah, I found weed on the side of the road. It was soooo tempting.

Rafael shakes his head and walks around to the car’s passenger door.

Rafael

Why did God give me a brother like you?

Joaquin

(follows Rafael to the passenger’s side)

Hey, I love you too, Rafie.

Rafael opens the door and retrieves a map and a black sharpie from the car's glove box and sets the map on the hood. Joaquin tousles his brother���s hair. Rafael points to a town called Hunter’s Creek.

Rafael

That’s our next survey. If we go now, we might have time to scout

it out before nightfall. Wouldn’t it be something if we found that kid who ran from the Raiders? We’d be promoted for sure.

Joaquin

Keep dreaming, man. He wouldn’t surrender without a fight.

EXT. CAMP — DAY — FOUR YEARS AGO

The entire area is a makeshift settlement with cabins in a circular pattern. People in leather clothes with punk-styled haircuts walk around the area, mingling with each other and laughing.

INT. CABIN — DAY — FOUR YEARS AGO

A woman wearing a maid’s uniform — ROSA (52) — helps a little boy — YOUNG SIMON (10) — put a tattered tuxedo on. The boy looks into a standing mirror, staring at himself. Behind the boy is Rosa, bunk beds, and other simple furniture you might find in a child’s bedroom.

Young Simon

What’s there to celebrate? I killed someone.

Rosa

A boy’s first human kill is a momentous occasion, Private Simon.

INT. CAR — DUSK — BACK TO PRESENT

Joaquin is driving the El Camino, and Rafael looks out of the passenger-side window. The town is eerily quiet. The brothers can see no human, animal, or zombie activity. The car crawls along the road between antique houses.

The car’s RUMBLING ENGINE and DISTANT THUNDER are audible. A single INAUDIBLE raindrop falls on Rafael’s arm as he rests it on the door.

Joaquin

Looks clear. What do you think?

Rafael

(marks a green check mark on the map over a town named

Hunter’s Creek. Looks over to his brother when he’s done.)

Yup. Let’s wait till morning to scavenge, though. Too dark.

The car is now parked in the middle of the road. Joaquin looks at Rafael like he said something utterly absurd.

Rafael

(after a short beat)

Oh, fuck off. You never know what’s lingering around the corner.

Joquin

Wow, it’s just- I’m shocked! The little kid who begged mom to let

him stay up and watch horror movies is afraid of the dark?

Rafael

Shut up, this isn’t a movie. This is real life.

Joaquin

(turns the car off)

Come on! Where’s your sense of adventure? Remember when you

wanted to be an astronaut or a deep-sea diver? We have our flashlights. We’ll be fine if we stick together. Just pretend you’re exploring an ancient village. These houses can’t be a day over 100.

Rafael

Fine, we’ll check out one of these houses, but that’s it.

EXT. ABANDONED TOWN — NIGHT

Joaquin holds the door open for Rafael as they exit the house holding guns. It is now RAINING HEAVILY. The THUNDER from earlier is much louder and closer than earlier. Sporadic flashes of lightning illuminate the area around them. Rafael is visibly upset. The boys then stand under the house’s awning.

Rafael

I could have told you. Empty.

Joaquin

It’s all about mindset.

Rafael

My mindset says you were wrong and I was right.

Joaquin is about to respond when he looks past Rafael and his expression suddenly becomes one of astonishment.

Joaquin

Yo, check it out!

Rafael is expecting another half-patronizing question when he notices his brother’s strange reaction to something he sees. Rafael slowly turns in the direction of his brother’s gaze. He can see a faint flicker of light radiating through the window a ranch house a few hundred yards away.

Rafael

Humans!

Joaquin

Raiders?

Rafael

Nah, we’d see more lights if so. It has to be a

nomad, or maybe even scouts. But I wonder who they’re working with if they are. No, it has to be a nomad or something.

. Joaquin

We should investigate.

Rafael

We’ll get soaked. We can’t drive to the end of the block, that

would make too much noise. We’d have to walk.

Joaquin

Our hoodies are in the car. I’ll grab them and a couple of ARs. You

stay here, princess.

The older brother runs to the car. Rafael scoffs. He hates being called a princess. His anger is placed on the backburner, however, as Joaquin yells.

Joaquin

What the fuck?!

Joaquin is standing on the other side of the car.

Joaquin (cont’d)

The gas cap is open!

Joaquin hops in the driver’s seat and puts a key in the ignition, seeing if it’ll start. The vehicle won’t turn over. Instead of roaring to life, the car GROANS every time Joaquin turns the key.

Joaquin

Prick siphoned our gas!

Rafael runs to the gas cap and sees that it is open.

Rafael

Fuck!

Joaquin

Get in the car! We’ll decide what to do.

INT. CAR — NIGHT

The brothers are soaking wet and shivering. The car’s interior is shielding them from the elements. Joaquin holds out a hoodie to Rafael. He is already wearing one with a different design.

Joaquin

Here, take this.

Rafael

(takes the hoodie. Puts it on quickly.)

We gonna go after him?

Joaquin

Yup, I’m gonna make him regret it. You don’t mess with the Lobos

brothers. I’ll kill ‘em.

Rafael

Woah, easy bro. I get it. I’m pissed, too, but we’re Resistance, not Raiders. Let’s at least try to talk-

Joaquin

I’m done with this kindergarten bullshit.

Rafael

But, the Resistance protects us. If we defect, more stuff like this is gonna happen.

Joaquin

Oh, don’t be a pussy. When the rain clears up, we’re grabbing

those ARs and heading for his ass.

EXT. HOUSE — NIGHT

The rain is now light, and the thunder is gone. The brothers stealthily approach the house and peer into the living room window. A boy with blonde, buzzed hair about their age wearing a dark denim jacket — Simon (14) — sits on a rocking chair in front of a fire place. In his arms is a swaddled infant — PENNY (0), and he feeds it from a bottle. He is singing, his VOICE MUFFLED.

Simon

“For I can’t help falling in love with you….”

Joaquin

Holy shit, that’s-

Simon suddenly turns his head and looks out the window at the brothers.

Simon

(voice is still muffled and barely audible)

About time you guys show up! I’ve been waiting all night.

He stands up with the baby in his arms and walks towards the front door. The brothers start to run off.

Simon

Wait! Don’t go. I just want to chat.

The door opens, and the blonde boy emerges with the baby in his arms, standing on a raised patio. He and Rafael make eye contact.

Simon

Come on in, guys. Bet you’re freezing your balls off. Guns

at the doorstep, if ya wouldn’t mind. Y’all drink coffee?

INT. HOUSE — NIGHT

The brothers sit on a couch in the same living room they were looking into earlier. The room has rustic decor, wall hangings and things you might see in your grandparent’s house. They wear new, oversized pairs of clothes. The fireplace from earlier is CRACKLING.

Simon

(hands cups of coffee to the brothers, keeps one for

himself. He sits down in the adjacent recliner)

Coolbeans. Penelope is in bed, and now we can talk

like gentlemen! First, how are those clothes?

Rafael

They’re fine. Thank you.

Simon

Hope you don’t mind homemade creamer. Oh, and thanks for the

gas. Penny wouldn’t have had dinner if it weren’t for you guys. So tell me, what are your names?

Rafael and Joaquin exchange curious glances.

Rafael

I’m Rafael, and this is my brother Joaquin. What’s your name? Is

Penelope your sister?

Joaquin

What the fuck is this, Alcoholics Anonymous?

Simon

It’s all right, Joaquin. Introductions are hard for many of us.

Rafael snorts and laughs.

Joaquin

Wiseass, shut up. We’re doing you a favor by not killing

you, gas stealer. We’re Raiders.

Simon

(points to a handgun in a holster around his leg and wags

his finger mockingly)

Please. If you were Raiders, I’d be dead by now. Besides, if you

knew anything about Raiders, you’d know they wouldn’t be caught dead in anything that says Resistance. You guys must be their scouts. Look, I know your type. You have all of this crazy firepower to protect yourselves from zombies and yet you’re too chicken shit to use any of it. The Resistance doesn’t really need a bunch of kids to see what towns are infested. They want a devoted child army. Tell me, does the word nazi mean anything to y’all?

The brothers both shake their heads.

Simon (cont’d)

(nods)

I assume Resistance only teaches what they want. Sit down, now. Wouldn’t be very polite to kill your dinner host.

Joaquin sits back down.

Simon (cont’d)

Oh, where are my manners? My name is Simon. And, no, Penny is

not my sister. She’s my… she’s my daughter.

Rafael does a spit-take.

Joaquin

The fuck? How old are you?

Simon

(pretending to be angry, overdramatizes)

Joaquin, I won’t accept the profanity any longer. Go stand outside

and freeze to death!

Joaquin

Hey, hey, I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. I promise.

Simon

I’m joking! I don’t give a fuck. Look, I know you guys know who I am. Let’s cut the shit. I have something to show y’all.

Rafael sits up straight, looking expectantly at Simon.

Simon rolls up his shirt sleeve and shows the brothers his tattoo - a skull above the words PILLAGE OR DIE. This is insignia used to represent loyalty to the Raiders.

Rafael can’t help but show his disbelief.

Joaquin

(leans over to get a better look)

Yooo…

INT. PRISON — NIGHT — TWO WEEKS AGO

Flashback of nothingness alternating with all-neon red flashes of Simon running with Penny as guards chase and shoot at him indiscriminately. SIRENS blare.

Simon (O.S.)

Nothin’ to be proud of, Joaquin. Raiders made me… do things, horrible things. I’ve robbed, tortured, killed… worst was this one prisoner… they made me… do her because I wouldn’t kill an old couple… I fucking promised myself the day Penelope was born, I was taking her and running.

INT. HOUSE — NIGHT — BACK TO PRESENT

Back to the same living room as the scene before last.

Rafael

(after a short beat of processing.)

None of it was your fault. They made you do those things because they’re cowards.

Simon

Rafael, you don’t get it. Raiders kidnapped me when I was 6. I’m 14 now. I could have ran a lot sooner. I should have. I gave in. I’m the real coward.

Rafael looks to Joaquin for assistance.

Joaquin

You’re not. You were scared for your life. Sounds like they were rewarding you by allowing you to live. Nobody can blame you.

Simon

Maybe. I still think I could have done something. So, you guys gonna take me and Penny in or we just gonna sit here?

Rafael and Joaquin exchange glances. Somehow, they know exactly what each other is thinking.

Rafael

No.

Simon

What? What do you mean? I’m a Raider. You’re supposed to turn

Raiders in. That’s what the Resistance does.

Rafael

(fidgets)

To be honest, Joaquin was just talking about leaving the

Resistance. Maybe we should. And, maybe… maybe you and

Penny can come with us.

Joaquin

We can be your family.

Simon

Are you… are you guys serious? Wow, thank you. But, Mercs would never stop coming after us. They’re already looking for me. You shouldn’t have to run from them, too.

Rafael

(takes a moment to contemplate this. He then smiles.)

So what if we have Mercs after us? We’d take care of each other. We’d be smart. Everyone deserves a family.

EXT. ABANDONED TRAIN STATION — DAY — ONE WEEK LATER

Simon and Rafael walk side by side along a railroad track. Rafael looks at Simon and notices that he appears lost in thought.

Rafael

Hey, Penny is in good hands. Joaquin might be dumb, but he’s a

good protector. Trust me, I grew up with him.

Simon

Sure.

EXT. ABANDONED TRAIN STATION — DAY

Back to Simon and Rafael walking down the same railroad track as the scene before last.

Rafael

I promise. He’ll keep her safe.

Simon

Yeah.

There are a few moments where no words are said. Rafael looks again at Simon and sees that his dejected expression has not changed.

Rafael

Look, I know-

Simon

Do you believe in God?

Raffael

Yeah, why? Do you?

Simon

I think if there is a God, he’s an asshole.

Rafael

Yeah. I can see that. But, he loves you.

Simon stops and turns toward Rafael.

Simon

Don’t you say that, man. Don’t you dare fucking say that to me.

Rafael

Okay. I’m sorry. Let’s keep going.

Rafael continues walking. Simon stands still. Tears well as he faces Rafael.

Simon

Nobody should love me. I’m a monster. All my life, I’ve been-

Rafael

You’re a legend.

Simon

Bullshit.

Rafael

Bulltrue. You said enough is enough, and you left. Remember

the rumor? You runnin’ inspired others to do the same. That

doesn’t make you a monster, that makes you a legend.

Simon didn’t expect Rafael to say any of this, and his shock is apparent yet modest.

Rafael (cont’d)

Listen, your past means nothin’ to Joaquin and me. I like you for

who you’ve become, not for things you did. Like Joaquin said,

you’re making things right. It’s not your past that makes you who

you are, it’s what you’re doing now. Think about all of the

families, all the lives you just saved by runnin’. That takes the

courage of a hero. So, yeah, you deserve love.

Simon

(after a long, emotionally charged beat)

Can I hug you?

Rafael

Hell yeah, man.

The boys embrace, and a smile emerges through Simon’s emotional expression.

EXT. VACATION HOME — DAY — 16 MONTHS LATER

Simon and Joaquin stand in a clearing surrounded by tall trees outside a remote vacation home. Next to the boys is a garden. They are cheering Penelope on as she takes her first steps. Simon scoops Penelope up and spins with her.

Simon

That’s my girl!

INT. VACATION HOME — DAY

Simon and Joaquin are sitting at a table as they play with Penelope. Simon walks in carrying an automatic rifle and puts it on a high shelf. Can’t Help Falling in Love With You plays quietly on a record player.

Rafael

Good news. Sounds like Raiders aren’t after us anymore. Too

many defectors- Why are you all so happy?

Joaquin

Penny took her first steps!

Rafael

I missed it?!

Rafael runs over to Penelope.

Rafael

Did you walk? Did you walk? Who’s getting to be a big girl?

The boys all laugh.

CREDITS ROLL.

[goodguydotmp3]

Okay to bounce off that last post, I wanted to remind yall that after the George Floyd protests a couple summers ago, the resistance did not stop. The were groups all around America still shutting shit down, still keeping the police out of autonomous zones, and still even trying to politically sway politicians into reform. The media just stopped covering it. Politicians wore their kente cloths and painted the streets and called it a done deal.

Everyone did not give up! And this feels present now, with most of our governments (in the west) ready to sweep any opposition to their genocidal project under the rug and carry on business as usual.

That is not happening in real life!! People are not giving up!!! You should not be discouraged, you should find community!!!!!!!! There is for sure a movement going on near you I pinky swear and if you're disabled you can keep up with what's going on online there are liberation groups that talk about it and spread information

I wanted to put all that out there bc I don't want to see the same doomerism I started seeing after the protests stopped being televised a few years back. We are not beaten we are being silenced because it matters that no one see what we have to say.

[ijustwanttoreblogthings]

content note: ableism, eugenics 

Lurking on the periphery of DS9 fandom, I was so relived that most people (if sadly not all) noticed and were horrified by the implications of what Bashir’s parents did to him.

but I still get pretty bummed when the trend tips a bit too much towards “he’s autistic [not the part I’m bummed about, I love that headcanon!] and he’d probably be a doctor / researcher / Starfleet officer anyway”. 

Julian’s explanation in the episode made it sound like he had an intellectual disability (which doesn’t mean he wasn’t / isn’t autistic as well!), and I see the conversation dodging around that a bit when it comes to outlining why what happened to Julian was so sickeningly ableist...

just from what I’ve seen and read, it sometimes feels like there’s this caveat where the wrong hinges on “he probably could’ve ended up on a similar path anyway**”, rather than “no matter what path he ended up on, people with disability - including people with intellectual disability, who get left behind and looked down on even by other disabled people - have an inherent worth and should not need to do or be anything whatsoever to be respected and valued as a human being”

the episode was very vague and also a dumpster fire, and there’s no real indication of what disability Julian had or who he would have grown up to be if his parents hadn’t had him genetically altered...but idk there’s a very strong societal belief that people with intellectual disability should be pitied / don’t accomplish anything / don’t have any reason to enjoy their lives, so i wanted to float this post into the ether because that’s an insidious, ableist misconception that does so much damage. 

No matter what disability Julian had, or how it affected him, his future had an inherent worth, in whatever form it took.

not to say that anyone is wrong for the headcanons they have or their take on the episode, just pointing to a general trend which everyone - including disabled people without an intellectual disability - should keep an eye out for in their sci-fi 😊  

**i honestly do understand the interest in this angle, because addressing the low expectations people have towards disabled folks is so, so, so important and you’ll never catch me saying otherwise. Not to mention how the Bashirs’ motivations smacked very strongly of wanting a “~normal~-according-to-ableist-societal-standards” child but were waved away in the end as “concern” for their child’s happiness, as if disabled people can’t live good, meaningful lives...gah, such important themes to unpack!

(note: I am disabled but do not have lived experience of intellectual disability so that’s the context I’m writing from)

[pedroschka]

not my type

Joseph Quinn x reader

words: 1.9k fluff

Summary: one sided feelings can destroy friendships, so you and Joe make it very clear that you both are not each other's type, pinky promise clear

A/n: @ghostinthebackofyourhead grab your favorite bread and (hopefully) enjoy because I'm your secret Santa!! thanks to @quinnyfairy for organising this <3

Mid laugh, brown eyes crinkling and his head thrown back, that's the blurry image of your best friend in front of you for the last two minutes.

"Joe as much I love to see your little potato head but your screen is frozen."

" ugh, shit! The bloody wifi connection at my parents' is the worst. Wait a second!" his voice on the other end is a bit muffled as he seems to be moving around, trying to fix it.

It was one day after Christmas and you and Joe are trying to have your own little celebration via video call while you both are at your family's and didn't want to wait till you eventually see each other in person again, unpredictable with Joe's busy schedule nowadays anyway. So you both had sent each other's presents via post and now wanted to unpack them together.

So now you sit on your bed in your old bedroom, presents scattered around you and your tablet in front of you with the frozen image of your laughing friend.

" OK, what about now?" Joe's face finally in time again and him waving at the camera

" yes, now get started I already tried peaking but you really are serious about your sticky tape"

" and see how it came in handy" his cocky little smile makes you roll your eyes while grabbing the first present on your left which already has a bit of wrapping paper ripped out, but sticky tape all around it preventing you from making out what it could be.

At the end, you both sit in a colorful mass out of wrapping paper, presents sorted in a little pile beside you, and now updating each other on the newest family tea.

" no! I swear my aunt was full-on gushing about how Eddie looked like her ex-boyfriend's when she was a teen and started showing pictures of you as Eddie all around the dining table, it was soo uncomfortable!" you comically shuddered and Joe's snickering like a little kid at your theatrics.

As comfortable and at ease you were now around him was the complete opposite when you first met each other a year ago.

You sat on your friend's couch, phone in hand, and playing some stupid game, that only seems to come to use in social situations out of ultimate boredom, but trying to look very busy for the people around you. Questioning why your friend even thought it was a good idea to invite you to one of her parties, celebrating whatever with a bunch of her actor friends, when you were the epitome of socially awkward and just overall really bad at meeting new people.

You tried, you really tried to be a part of some conversations, standing in a group full of, on first sight, cliché book extroverts, all of them with interesting lives and using big words talking about different plays, with you just standing there and fake laughing at their jokes you didn't understand and attempting to stop comparing yourself with them. Which didn't work so after a few exhausting hours in which you've been ignored or got an awkward "was nice meeting you" after you ranted too much about a topic you finally could understand you gave up. Your social battery drained and you loathing in self-pity.

Loud cheers and greetings make you look up from your phone, great even more people. The new guest is a very ordinary-looking guy, plain light washed baggy jeans hanging low on his hips, a plain white shirt, sneakers. Not bad on the eye with tousled brown curls as well as brown eyes but not really your type.

Still he held an aura around him that forced you to keep your attention on him, apparently the people around him felt the same effect as they were hanging on every word that was coming out of his mouth. Or is he... Famous around here?! And you are just the only one who has absolutely no idea who he is?

But you're already admiring him for a different reason, Looking so awkward but at the same time so charmingly charismatic and being able to find the right words and topic for each person. You couldn't help to be slightly jealous.

Forced to look down again as he looked across the room and dangerously close in your direction you continued your game, only looking up again as you felt the couch dip as someone sat themselves beside you, and you hastily tried to turn your phone away to not get caught.

"well, that looks fun" shit.

Unknown ordinary looking /maybe famous guy is smiling at you and nodding at your phone

"uggh, kinda" and your brain is letting you down again.

But he doesn't seem bothered by your brain-dead state and tried again to engage you in a conversation, ending up with him having your phone and you, hanging half over his shoulder, explaining to him how to play the game.

"oh, I'm Joe by the way!"

You met Joe a few times after that again and eventually exchanged numbers which resulted in a weird and chaotic friendship. With his ability to make you feel so comfortable around him and just being yourself, he has to endure your ranting over the most ridiculous topics or oversharing the most private things, but it doesn't seem to bother him, on the contrary, he seems to even encourage your weirdness and just adapt to it.

Because of this connection between you both, you lost count of how many times people thought you both were dating or how many times your friends and family tried to play matchmaker, so a pinky promise between you and joe was made that you both are on the same page, that you are not each other's type, both of you already familiar with how one-sided feelings can destroy a friendship, so better making sure at the beginning right?

It was now new years eve and like you planned with Joe in your last call you both were gonna drive over to a friend's house who's throwing a party to celebrate it together, in person this time.

Joe's gonna be at your place to pick you up in nearly 20 minutes and you're still sitting in front of your wardrobe in only your bathrobe and still wet hair, nibbling nervously on your fingernails and looking over all your clothes, eyes wide with panic debating what you should wear to look presentable for him.

Which is absolutely ridiculous because Joe has already seen you in your absolute worst states, coming over to you with pimple cream all over your face, greasy hair, and sloppy oversized shirts with holes and stains you couldn't even explain.

But you haven't seen each other for nearly a month now, well except for the few video calls but that's just different, and now you are a nervous mess, suddenly worried about your appearance and you hate it.

The buzzing of your doorbell makes you jump slightly, spraying the last bit of hairspray on your head and turning the music off, which you needed to hype yourself up, and speedwalking to the door, taking a deep breath before opening it.

Joe's standing in front of you in black slacks and a slightly striped white shirt, the last button undone and a necklace peeking out of it, and you feel your heartbeat throbbing in your ears.

With a happy call of your name, he went straight into a hug and you suddenly felt distracted by the smell of his perfume, still the same one you smelt a thousand times but different regardless, Like his arms around you, squeezing you firmly into him, it's like your sensory perception is on high alert and suddenly everything feels more intense.

The car ride to the party is awkward to say at least, your nerves preventing you from coming up with anything other than occasionally humming or nodding as an answer, and after a few more tries from Joe he gave up, thinking maybe you're just nervous again because of all the people that are gonna be there and needed a few more minutes for yourself, so the car becomes silent and you hate it because that was your least concern right now, you felt like a bad friend, not seeing each other for a month and you can't even talk to him because this bloody nervous feeling just won't go away. So you both just stare at the road in front of you.

It's loud and full and lights flickering everywhere and you're so overwhelmed and tense that the weird feeling is forgotten for a moment and you're clinging to Joe, following him around like a lost puppy. Him ordering drinks for you both and chatting with people, trying to include you, taking you with him for smoke breaks, the only time when you both are separated is when one of you has to go to the toilet.

A few minutes before midnight a group of people had gathered on the balcony, with them you and Joe, shouting the countdown to the new year and watching fireworks exploding and illuminating the night sky.

" happy new year!" you screamed in each other's faces and laughed as you tackle each other in a big hug. People around you doing the same or walking around and giving the traditional New Year kiss.

Observing this you both looked at each other and shrugged while giggling, both slightly tipsy, and pecked each other on the lips. Physical contact wasn't unfamiliar to you, both being touchy when around people you feel comfortable enough, small kisses when saying goodbye, or cuddling together on your small sofa when watching some movies weren't new either. What was new was the feeling you felt as your lips met his.

As you separated you looked into each other's eyes, you always thought that his eyes were beautiful, even told him so, but you never felt such strong emotions when looking into them, unable to hold eye contact your gaze trailed to his lips, so full and soft looking and you never felt such a strong urge either to be near them. Subconscious you both lean in again and your lips met again but this time for a real kiss.

Warm flooded your body and you can't think of anything else other than the feeling of his lips against yours. His hands found the back of your neck to bring you even closer and you copied him, trailing your fingers through his curls, both of you starving for each other's presence and hungry for more, captivated and lost in your own little world.

Until a person stumbles into you and you remember again where you are.

Both of you catching your breath as you separated again, waking up from the trance-like state, emotional chaos whirling up in you again because you just made out with your best friend, with which you made a silly pinky promise and made very clear to not be each other's type to save this friendship but now you experienced the best kiss you ever had and when you look at his face now he is so beautiful and you can't help to want to kiss those lips again but you were also so overwhelmed because what the fuck does this all mean now.

Luckily Joe answers your questions as he leans in again for a third kiss, shorter but still as breathtaking.

" I know we promised to be not each other's type but do you wanna go on a date with me?" he asked against your lips and you both giggled as you nodded 'yes' before going into another kiss.

(reblogs and comments are very appreciated additional to your likes)

[evelestrange]

i can't love you again!

my arcane masterlist

Act 3 spoilers.

┊pairing: Vi x firelight!fem!reader

┊warnings: mentions of injuries, brief mentions of experimentation and addiction, swearing, a whole lot of emotions

┊wordcount: 2.2k

┊genre: angst, hurt/comfort

┊summary: Vi being held hostage at the firelights base turned to be one of the most eventful days she could've had by meeting her lost lover again, but when her girl can't seem to trust her how will that end?

┊notes: i just wanted to say thank you so much for all the love on my last post! i appreciate it more than you guys could ever imagine.

You sat beside Mirio and his baby, Walna. The bubble-like giggles resounded through the valley, contributing to to warm atmosphere it gave off.

"We're glad you're okay," Mirio offered as Walna waddled over to you, her dusty purple skin shining in the sun. You scooped her into your arms, throwing her into the air and catching her, only to repeat it.

"I'm glad too, Rio." The (h/c) girl smiled brightly at him as she held Walna close to her chest. "You were knocked out for a while. We started preparing for the worst."

Your heart dropped to your stomach as your expression fell at the confession. "I-It was just a bullet wound, it couldn't have been that bad," she reasoned. Mirio shook his head. "Shnarples." Y/n's breath stuttered as he spoke.

"Yeah, you gave us a real good scare."

"I'll try not to do it again, old man." She smiled.

"Oh you little-"

As Mirio was about to dig into you about the 'offensive' name, you felt a heavy hand smack you upside the head. You whipped around with your hand covering your crown. "Jesus Christ what was that for-"

"That was for getting shot by Jinx." The boy hit you again on the opposite side. "That was for scaring us to the point where they started sketching you to put you on the damn wall."

You sighed, shoving your hands in your pockets so you wouldn't fidget. His platinum twists swayed in the wind as he stared at her with narrow eyes.

"When I say retreat, you retreat."

"Since when were you the one calling all the shots? Did you forget that we both built this place from the ground up." Your voice was laced with venom.

"Since your emotions started getting in the way." You could tell he didn't mean to say that out loud, but he didn't regret what he said.

"Fuck you, Ekko. I bet if you had the chance, you wouldn't put a bullet in her brain. Cause you still see what I see," her next words were emphasized as she stepped to the taller male.

"You. Still. See. Powder." Each word sounded like a statement in itself. Ekko's face twisted in anger and annoyance. He turned his back to you, and in that moment something clicked as you panicked slightly.

"I promise I'll never walk away from you angry. We don't have the luxury of a guaranteed tomorrow."

"You pinky promise?"

Mylo, Claggors, Ekko, Powder, and Vi all looked in your direction as you all linked your pinkies together, promising to never leave another mad.

"Ekko!" Tears started to form in your eyes as you yelled after him from where he was walking inside the wall, into the keeping room.

"Don't you dare walk away from me angry." Her jaw clenched as she limped her way to the doorway. Ekko let out an annoyed groan as he took half your weight.

"I'm not angry at you, so chill out."

"Sure as hell seemed like it," you hissed.

"I wouldn't break that promise even if it was years ago," his face softened as he turned his head to face you.

Over the years of creating the firelights, you and Ekko were all the other had. Powder went batshit crazy, and kill Mylo, Claggors, Vi, and Vander. The bond you two had was unbreakable as you grew into the adults you are today.

"I know you haven't been...back on duty for a while but, there's something you need to see."

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

Ekko stood in front of the built woman, who's voice sounded vaguely familiar. Your white, crafted masks were secured around your head as you listened to the woman hiss profanities.

You were crouched, one bent knee holding all of your weight as the other stuck out to your side. Mirio had removed the sack from over her face.

Suddenly you were incredibly grateful for the mask covering your face, preventing anyone from seeing your teary eyes and dropped jaw. Ekko nudged his head, telling Mirio to leave you alone with the girl.

"You shy- or just ugly?"

'I see she didn't lose her hot head.'

Ekko stepped to her, dropping the pipe in his hand.

His mask hissed as it dropped to his side.

Yours did the same from your place next to him.

"I look good for a dead girl." Ekko introduced.

You snorted a laugh as you got a good look at her. "What variation of shimmer did they give you, i need some of that shit." You scoffed, trying to detach your heart from your head.

All you wanted to do was throw your arms around her and never let go.

But why is she here? Where has she been? Why now?

"Ekko? Shit, Y-Y/n?"

"What do you know about this?" Ekko called out as he opened the mobile chamber, revealing a glowing blue stone.

"What the ever-living-fuck are you doing with hextech?" You scolded Ekko as he gestured to Vi. "She was helping Jinx protect it."

"Nothing. What the hell is this all about?" You kept your eye locked onto her facial expressions.

Her face twitched when she lied, it always has.

You gave Ekko a look, lightly nodding your head.

"What were you doing with Jinx?"

"You were with Jinx?!"

"Her name is Powder, And I just found her when you and your goons showed up."

"That's not Powder. Not anymore."Your hands were in your pockets as you shuffled around your foot.

She scoffed, "It's me. Vi."

"The same person who used to take you down to the junk heap and hose you down when you got covered in grease." Her head turned to you as she seemed to struggled to find the right thing to say.

"The same person who would sneak into Piltover to get you Violets to stick in your hair." Your heart skipped a beat as Ekko glanced at you before turning back to the pinkette.

"That was a long time ago. People change."

"Yeah, I'm getting that."

"Are you working for Silco?" Ekko questioned. You and Vi had mirrored expressions as you looked at him like he had two heads.

"Fuck. You."

Ekko stammered as he spoke "I-I-I- I thought you were dead."

You put and arm out in front of Ekko, limping as you stepped in front of him. "Where the hell have you been, Vi?"

"No, Y/n, cause now she shows up with a Piltie and decided to give her a tour of the Lanes."

"You were following us? Why didn't you say something?"

"You're working with an enforcer?"

"No- I-I mean yes, but it's not like that. She's not like that."

"I didn't know if I could trust you!"

"Not exactly like she gave us a reason to."

"So...so you just come out swinging?"

"Gee, I wonder who we learned that from," Ekko swung his arm around your shoulder as he gave Vi a look of exasperation.

"Ah, well, you shoulda learned more. You still punch like a little boy."

"And you still block with your face!"

Vi sighed, her expression fell slightly as she glanced at you, then down at the ground.

"I remember when you wouldn't stand up to me." The shackles clattered to the ground as you and Ekko slightly stepped back. Ekko shoved you back, you fell on your ass as you got ready to stand up and swing.

But your arms lowered as you saw Vi wrap her arms around your friend.

"I missed you, little man."

You seemed to stare as you watched them have their moment.

"How long have you had those off?"

"How long have you been whining?"

Ekko dug his head into her shoulder, wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace. Vi opened her eyes, meeting your gaze as she reached her hand out to you.

"I miss you too, Princess."

Your eyes stung as you took her hand, she hauled you to your feet and into one of her arms as she held you just as close.

"You have no idea, Vi."

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Ekko winked at you as he walked away with Caitlyn to give her a tour of the base, leaving you and Vi to your own devices. You were on one off the tree's balconies that wrapped around the trunk, Vi's shoulder was pushed against yours as you stood there, pushing yourself against the railing.

"You guys built all of this?" She inquired.

"Not alone," you smiled as you remembered the days where every day and night was spent with laughter as you built the safe haven.

"After Vander...passed," you carefully spoke. "The streets were flooded with shimmer. Everyone here is either an addict or a victim." You confessed.

"And you?

"Back when we first started the firelights, Ekko and I were scouting for people we already knew. Trustworthy people." Your (e/c) eyes glazed over as you reminisced. "Ekko and I split up in the Lanes. I went to see a few people I grew up with...they ratted me out to Silco."

Your breathing labored as you closed your eyes, trying to prevent your tears.

"I was used to experiment the different variations of shimmer and how it affected people. Took me three years to get off of it, I was miserable the entire time."

"Everytime i see that glowing purple liquid death, it brings me back to my days in that lab." Your gaze was somewhere far away, and you hadn't noticed your own tears until Vi took your face in her hands, wiping them away with her fingertips.

"I'm sorry. For not being there for you, for everyone. I should've been here."

"That's one way to drive yourself crazy." Your smile brought up her spirits.

"(n/n)! (n/n)!" Walna called out to you from her spot at the base of the tree, her father lifting her up to see her better.

"Hi Munchkin!" You waved and blew her a kiss, a dopey smile on your face.

"You had a kid without me?" Vi spoke in mock offence.

"Like I'd have one with you," you scoffed.

There was a brief pause as you two just stood, encasing the fleeting moment that you had with her into your brain, and burning it into your memory.

"Remember when we used to talk about getting married?" Her pink hair blew in the wind as rays of sun danced across her cheeks.

'She's beautiful,' you thought.

"Yeah, we were in over our heads, weren't we?" You voice was dipped in sadness as you longingly gazed at the woman in front of you.

How could she be so close, but so out of reach?

"I don't think it was that far fetched," she slid her hand to yours on the railing, brushing the tips of her fingers against the back of your hand, tracing the structure of your hand.

"Don't do that, Violet."

"Don't do what?" She sighed as you pulled away from her.

"Don't make me have hope when you're just going to leave again, especially when there's someone else." Your heart was heavy in your chest as you tried to do the right thing.

"Someone else? I- What the hell are you talking about?"

"The girl! The woman you've been with since you got out of prison. The way you spoke about her in the keeping room....you care for her, Vi. And if i stand correct, I just-" you turned your head away from her as you finished.

"I can't love you again."

Vi's heart seemed to break as she reached out, pulling your body against hers as she held you as close to her heart as she could.

"Yes, because she's saved my ass ten thousand times. She's a friend to me, Princess." She pulled away, just barely. Her hands went to hold the sides of your neck, her thumbs caressed your jaw, swiping back a forth with purpose.

"Okay, so maybe you're not in love with her, but that doesn't change the fact that you're going to leave with her."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"So you're going to stay? Here? Become a firelight?" You sarcastically remarked as you started to pull your face away from her hold. The woman in front of you quickly brought your gaze back to her as she looked you in the eyes, the most serious look on her features.

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm doing. I talked to Ekko, he said I can stay as long as he doesn't hear our 'sappy shit." She laughed as she pressed her nose to yours.

"You're really staying?"

"I'm really staying."

With her reassurance you brought your hands behind her neck, pushing her down to meet your lips. You smiled into the kiss as her hands went down to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as she savored the moment.

She pulled away from you, a smirk on her face with an arched brow.

"Think you can love me again?" She sassed, as she ran her thumb over your lips.

You rolled your eyes as you trailed your hands down her back, hooking your fingers into her belt loops.

"Possibly."

"Yo! I said you could stay if i didn't see the sappy shit!"

"You said hear, Dipshit!"

"You two never stop, do you?"

-

-

-

-taglist: @bitchylittlejellyfish @1-danid @holysmokesblog @brooks-lyanna

[chelleztjs18]

Lost in Assistance - Ch. 48

Elizabeth Olsen x Fem!Reader.

Summary: Y/n is a professional celebrity's personal assistant in Hollywood got hired with two years contract to be the assistant of the famous and talented Elizabeth Olsen / Lizzie by her manager. Both Y/n and Lizzie hate each other since day one, and they have mutual friend. One is as stubborn as the other, will Y/n stay when Lizzie gives attitudes and tries her best to make her quit before the contract ends?

Warning: fluff, angst, smut (in future chapters), swearing words ( +18 only)

I do not own any pictures, name, brand, song titles or anything that I used in this story.

A/N: Hello! Sorry for the slow update for this series, I got sick so it was hard for me to write and that was why I posted the one shots that's already in my draft. But here it is, I got this chapter done. I hope you like it. I highly recommend to listen to the song in this chapter so you can feel the fluff and the other feelings more!  The songs are "Everywhere" by Fleetwood Mac , "Can't Take My Eyes Off of You - I love You Baby) by Ms. Lauryn Hill ,  and "Get You" By Daniel Caesar Feat Kali Uchis. Happy reading! :D

All chapters

The night has passed. The comfort you feel from Lizzie’s presence lets you drown in a very deep sleep. It was the most comfortable and best sleep you ever have after five years. You have been sleeping alone in the last five years and finally sleeping with someone you are in love with feels so heavenly good. Even in your sleep both you and Lizzie don’t want to be far away from each other. Both of you keep hugging each other, or if you both lay facing opposite sides, both of you unconsciously holding hands in your sleep or your pinky fingers entwine to each other.

Lizzie slowly stirring up from her sleep when a blade of sunlight slashes in through the little space between the two curtains. She wakes up with a smile, laying on her left side. She moves a little but then she notices a little weight on her waist, and a little weight pushing to your back. Her right arm on her waist with her hands holding your under between her waist and her hand. She feels that you are hugging her from her back, you wrap your arms around her while you are lying close on your sides. She feels your warm breath dancing on the back of her neck.

She loves it so much that she wakes up to you hugging her so tight. She moves a little and you cuddle more to her as you ask her. “Where are you going? Please don’t go.” You whisper with a childish whiny tone in your sleepy state. It warms her heart. She giggled softly. “I’m not going anywhere, babe. Don’t worry.” Then she pulls your hands to her lips and kisses the back of your hand gently.

Despite the comfort she feels right now being in your arms under the blanket, she wants to get up. After waiting for a little while so you will go back to sleep again, she slowly gets out from your hug. She goes to your closet to get a warm sock then goes downstairs to make some breakfast for you. She checks your refrigerator to see what she can cook. She gets the cold brew coffee machine started.

She notices your smart speaker and she tells it to play “Everywhere” by Fleetwood Mac. She starts to cook breakfast for you while dancing to one of her favorite songs. She grills the bacon and makes the eggs. Her head nods, enjoying the beat of the song. She taps her toe following the bass. Her body starts to dance while she is cooking some scrambled eggs. She brings the spatula close to her and she starts mouthed the lyrics as if she is singing it to a mic. This morning she feels so different, her heart feels as light as a feather. Her heart feels relieved and filled with joy, floating as if she is on cloud nine. She feels happy. She is… in love.

You woke up, and found Lizzie was not in bed. You call for her name to see if she is in the bathroom. After getting no answer, you go downstairs. You hear some music playing, smells of coffee and breakfast. Just the thought of her actually there in the kitchen making breakfast after the unforgettable night you spent together last night makes you feel fully alive and your spirit soars.

As soon as you are close to the kitchen, you see her dancing while cooking. She moves her body following the rhythm of the song. She now gets carried away with her happiness and the song. Once again she sings the song in front of the spatula. You watch her dancing so cutely and adorable in your oversize t-shirt from your college, underwear and socks. Her blonde messy bun is like a cherry on top of her lovely morning look. You are falling for her harder. She continues cooking and sings under her breath.

“Good morning, beautiful.” You greet her softly with your raspy morning voice and smile that’s full of love for her. She stops singing and smiles looking at you. “Good morning, my love.” She greets you back with a cheerful tone. She moves the bacon to the plate, turns off the stove. You walk to her to give her a morning kiss and she is all ready to give you a kiss as well as she turns her face to your direction. Your lips slowly meet hers for a soft kiss and then you feel her smiling touch your lips as “Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You - I love You Baby) by Ms. Lauryn Hill plays in the background. She gasps in excitement because she loves this song then quickly turns to you and starts to sing the first verse of the song with your hands holding her waist and hers on your shoulders.

“You're just too good to be true

Can't take my eyes off you

You'd be like heaven to touch (Heaven to touch)

I wanna hold you so much (Hold you so much)

At long last, love has arrived

And I thank God I'm alive

You're just too good to be true

Can't take my eyes off you”

With the song continuing to play the rest of the part in the background, you are admiring her smile and her voice while she is singing for you. Your cheeks turn crimson red and you laugh in so much happiness. You kiss her one more time. Again, she smiles in your kiss. Your hands run up and down slowly on her back, she runs her finger on your face with her jade shades eyes drinking the view of your smile. "I love waking up to you as my big spoon, waking up to your hugs. It starts my day so differently." She told you and bit her lips after.

"Me too darling. I slept so well last night but I woke up and you are not next to me. Why are you up early and making breakfast?" You asked in a fake whiny tone.

“I wanted to take care of you, babe. I have to take care of what’s mine.” She scrunches her nose. “But I want cuddles with my stalker.” You fake a pouty face. “Aaww don’t worry sweetie, I’m all yours and we will have plenty of time for cuddles but now let’s me prepare your breakfast first, okay?” She kisses you once more as if she never gets enough of you. “Okay.” You agreed half heartedly.

She continues preparing the breakfast, making some toasts. You hug her from the back. You rest your chin in the crook of her neck. “Can I help you with anything?” You ask very softly as you kiss her right ear. “Nothing, it would be nice if you keep hugging me like this.” She looks at you with a smile then back to what she was doing.

After a few minutes she lets you be clingy to her, she finally says something. “Y/n, sweetie, can you help me put everything on the plate for us please?”

“Sure.” You help her and do what she asks you to do. Then have a glass of water after everything is ready. You look at her again, you still can’t believe that this is happening. The Olsen sister you are in love with is here with you, smiling at you. Spending time with you in the morning. There’s no pain, no drama, no sadness. All you feel right now is peaceful, you are beyond happy. You feel that you are HOME and complete. You are.. In love. So in love, it’s not even funny. You can never get enough of her. Everything about her is like drugs, so addictive. A sexy slow song “Get You” By Daniel Caesar Feat Kali Uchis starts to play in the background. She is moving around, cleans up after cooking

“Okay, babe. Breakfast is re---” Her sentences were interrupted by her own squeal as you pulled her close to you all of sudden as soon as she turned facing you. You kiss her. She kisses you back right away. Your hands move slowly from her back to her covered butt cheeks and squeeze them firm enough that makes her moan in your kiss. She bites your lower lips and you sigh. Your hands reach down to the side of both of her thighs, then move up slowly, let your nails gently scratch her thighs that give her goosebumps and tingle in her clothed center as you start to kiss her neck. You hear her shaky sighs that turn you on and drive you insane instantly..

“Y/n, what about breakfast?” She asks in a whisper and moans softly at the same time, pulling your head so your face gets closer to her neck while her left hand caresses your hair in her grip. You instantly groan smoothly. “Hmmm breakfast can wait. I want you now.” You gently sucks on her soft spots and your left hand slips under her shirt, your hand feels the smoothness of her abdomen skin. She moans. You push her to the back until her lower body touches the counter. You bite her neck, she leans back so you can kiss her lower and lower as she closes her eyes, absorbing every pleasure you give her and moans at the same time.

She can feel your left hand slowly move up, making her excited where your hand is going. As soon as your hand is close to her breast, you stop and slowly slowly pull your left hand down. Her right hand grabs you as if it’s telling you she doesn’t want your hand to go down and trying to command you to move back up where it was going but you pull it down anyway. You stop your kiss on her neck, you pull your head up and you look at you, you tease her while you pull your hand down anyway. You give her a teasing smirk. Her dilated green eyes look at you. The vibe of the song compliments the desires that’s radiated between the two of you.

Then you pick her up and let her sit on the island counter, once again she squealed in surprise. She looks down to you smiling and both of her hands grab your face by the cheeks then she kisses you eagerly. You stand closer to her. Both of your hands on her thighs and you spread them in a sudden making her breath hitches pretty loud. You get in between her thighs with your hands still rubbing gently her thigh.

She grabs your hair and yanks them back with her left hand, not too hard but enough to surprise you. Her right hand tenderly holds your throat. You feel her fingers lay comfortably on your jaws. She smiles then she licks her lips. She kisses you. The kiss is deep, passionate but so slow that it makes you crave for more, then she catches your bottom lips between her teeth. This time, her bite feels a little harder then she pulls your bottom lips further and further until it gently slips out of her bite. You lick and suck your own lips to soothe the bite she just did. Both of you giggle as you look at each other.

She then kisses your left cheek very very gently and quickly then she kisses your left eye as gently as she did to your cheek. She moves slowly counterclockwise to your forehead and gives a soft open mouth kiss to it. You feel drunk from her affection, she steals your breath in every kiss she gives you. You close your eyes as you know that she will go to your right eyes and kisses it with the same soft soothing kiss. Your heart skittered. Your smile instantly forms on your face as you feel her lips pleasantly reach your right cheek. She leads her lips to the tip of your nose to kiss it. Your hands finally move up to her body, get under her shirt to make her as excited as you are for her lips to finally come back to yours.

At the same time her lips come back to yours, you catch her lips eagerly and your left reaches her right breast. You squeeze it in a little firmer grip. She moans and your tongue slides in between her lips brushes her tongue. Her tongue plays with yours. She wraps her legs to your body and starts slowly bucking her hips, trying to get a friction against your body. Her body begged for more of your touches. You then get a hold of the hem of her t-shirt and as if she can read your mind on what you want to do, she breaks the kiss and lifts her arms up so you can take her shirt off. You toss her shirt away. Not wanting to waste anymore time, you kiss her chest bone then to the mount of her left breast. You run your tongue to her left already hardened nipple. The tip of your tongue circling it then brushing it up and down in short licks and sucking it.

She leans back a little, then your tongue crosses the cleavage to reach her right nipples giving the same exact attention as the left one got. Then with the tip of your tongue you lick the center of her chest bone between her cleavage and move up slowly, inch by inch through the middle of her collarbone and passing her throat bone, under her chin, then to her chin and finally back to her lips and you kiss her. She is drawn to your kiss deeper and deeper.

Passion is taking hold of both of you and with the song playing in the background, drives you both into the drunkenness of your desire. The slow making out pace just makes both of you insanely want each other. Neither of you hear knocking on the door, nor someone is coming into the house. “Y/n? Hello? Are you home?” Both of you are too busy to hear it.

“Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my gooood!! Finally!” Aubrey screams in excitement, clapping her hands and jumping around like a little kid when Christmas finally comes. You both finally heard Aubrey’s voice as she walks into the kitchen. Yes, your best friend just walks in on you both making out. Both of you are in shock, Lizzie gasps loudly as she quickly covers her upper body with her hands. “Oh my god! Aubrey! What are you doing here?” She quickly pushes you away from her, she blushes in a split second and her eyes quickly search for her t-shirt. You quickly in panic look for her t-shirt.

Aubrey laughs. “Wow, Liz. I should be the one that asks you. What are YOU doing here? Half naked, on y/n’s kitchen island counter. Oh my God! You two idiots finally realized your feelings for each other.” She teases. “Babe, help me get off of here.” She stretched out her right hand to you so you can help her get down from the kitchen counter as she tries her best to cover her body with one hand that makes Aubrey notice all the marks you gave her last night. “Babe?” She questions the pet name Lizzie just called you. You help her get off of the kitchen counter and grab her t-shirt.

As soon as you are about to give it to her, the brunette stops you and comes closer to the still half naked blonde, standing awkwardly. Aubrey looks at the marks. “Oh wow. Last night was pretty wild huh?” She gives both of you a knowing smile but she suddenly gasps in realization. “That was why both of you didn’t answer my call! Oh okay, too much of last night's image now in my mind.” She closes her eyes with both of her hands swinging around in the air as she is trying to get rid of the image of what you two were doing last night. She opens her eyes to find both of you getting all embarrassed. Aubrey snorts a laugh. “Liz, now I see you in three colors, you skin colors, red blush and the colors of the marks y/n left you.” She teases both of you once again.

You cleared your throat as your way to calm down your nervousness and awkward feeling. “Uh- Aubrey, how come you didn’t ring the bell? How did you get in here?” You ask her as you hand Lizzie her t-shirt. She puts it on quickly. “I did ring the bell, I knocked too. I guess you two were too busy to hear it. Then I remembered your secret spot where you put the spare key, so yeah.”

“Oh okay. Aubrey, I love you but what are you doing here this early?” You ask her again. “Well, I called both of you last night but no answer at all. I was worried that both of you killed each other and this morning you didn’t answer either. I went to Lizzie’s but nobody’s there so I came here to check on you and Lizzie.” Aubrey answers nonchalantly.

“Oh okay. Fair enough. Sorry Aubrey, we didn’t mean to ignore you last night but uh-you know ---” Aubrey interrupts the blonde. “What? Things got pretty heated last night?” Tease Aubrey, wiggling her eyebrows followed by a smirk. “What? No! Aubrey! Stop!” Lizzie quickly denies it with a huge embarrassment.

“Well, am I right? Things got pretty heated. Those marks, better from Y/n sucking you and biting you! Not because she beats you up Liz.” Aubrey tries hard not to laugh seeing how embarrassed Lizzie is, but you snort a laugh, you can’t hold your laugh from Aubrey’s antics.

Lizzie quickly looks at you, her eyes protesting at you for your laugh because she is so embarrassed. Your right arm hugs her waist and pulls closer to you. “What darling? Aubrey was right, things got pretty heated last night and those marks are from me-- Ouch!” You pretend as if you are hurt after she quickly hits you with the back of her hands so you will stop talking about last night in front of Aubrey. “Okay okay. I’ll stop talking.” You laugh.

Aubrey laughs then back at you. “Ouuuh y/n, you are kinky!” She smirks, knowing that this conversation will make Lizzie blush even more and she is enjoying this..

Lizzie sees that your lips start to open to answer Aubrey but before you start to talk she interrupts you. “Ooookaayy. How about coffee? You want some coffee, Aubrey?” She asks as she pours the cold brew for you and her.

“Aaaww Lizzie honey, are you too embarrassed that you desperately change the topic and offer me some coffee?” Aubrey asks in a teasing whiny tone. Lizzie rolls her eyes and sighs. “You won’t let this go for a while and will keep teasing me huh?” She answers in defeat.

“Uh No. Probably for like a month or two.” The brunette answers and laughs at the same time. “Fine. Whatever, Aubrey. Coffee?” Lizzie offers again as she hands you your coffee.

“Uh no thank you. No offense, but I like my morning coffee hot.” She refuses, she looks at the shirts that both of you are wearing while you two are drinking your cold brew.

“Oh geez, what now, Aubrey?” She tries to hold a smile, knowing what Aubrey is thinking. “She notices we are wearing each other’s t-shirts, love.” You turn your head towards Lizzie and whispers. “I know, babe. That one I don’t mind. I love it, I think it’s cute that we are doing that.” She whispers back with a smile.

“Wait, Aaaaww you guys are so cute!! That's Lizzie’s favorite shirt, and that’s y/n’s college’s shirt. You guys are wearing each other’s t-shirt. I knew that you both would make a cute couple!” She comes to both of you and gives a hug. Neither of you are just smiling and didn’t respond to anything that Aubrey said about you two being a couple.

“Now both of you need to stop doing stupid stuff that makes both of you misunderstand and hurts each other, okay?” Aubrey suggests in a joking tone but she wasn’t really. “Haha. Very funny, Aubrey.” You answer.

“What? I was right and it was tiring and it’s killing me being in the middle for two of you. I love you both but not gonna lie, you two sometimes can be very oblivious and not being smart, I’m just saying.” Aubrey explains once again.

“Totally understandable.” You nodded in agreement. “Do you want to have breakfast with us?” You added. “Uh, after I saw what you both were doing on that kitchen counter not too long ago? I think I’m gonna pass.” She can’t miss the chance to make fun of you both one more time.

Lizzie gasps “Aubrey! Don’t worry, we are clean cooks.”

“Yeah, we started it after breakfast was ready.” You added. “Babe, you seriously need to stop giving too much information if you don’t want Aubrey to keep making fun of us about this morning for more than two months.” She reminds you jokingly but with a tiny bit of seriousness in it.

“True.” Aubrey agreed. “I can’t wait to tell everybody that you two finally admit your feelings to each other! Don’t worry, I will skip the sex part.” Again, another joke comes out from Aubrey.

“Uh about that, can we just keep it a secret first please?” Lizzie quickly responds to it and you look at her right away. It hits you in the gut a little bit but you are trying to understand it from her point of view so you shrug it off.

“What? I can’t tell everybody about the good news? Not even to Mitchel?” Disappointment evident in her tone.

“Well, I will tell him about it. I’m sure he wants to hear it from me. I mean, no offense. It’s not that you are somebody else or stranger but you know what I meant.” You explain. “Oh yeah okay. I understand. Don’t worry about it. At least after that I can talk about it with him!!” She says excitedly.

“Alright guys. I think I’m gonna leave you two alone now so maybe you can continue what you were doing. I’ll see you two soon.” She laughs as she hugs both of you goodbye. Both of you walk her out to the door.

“Okay. Where were we?” You smirk and tease the woman who has your heart in front of you. “I remember where we were and I love it but Aubrey kinda killed the mood soooo…” She replies but still with a lovely warm happy smile that you never have enough of it.

You laugh. “Well, yeah she kinda did. So what’s the plan now?” You hug her waist, admiring her beauty. “Breakfast and cuddles all day with your stalker?” She cutely implied. “Hmmm I love that. Sounds like a good plan to me.” You lift her up, she squeals and giggles. She showers you with kisses as you carry her to the dining room.

Ch. 49

A/N: Well, I hope you enjoyed this fluffy chapter. Let me know what you think. As usual reblogs, comments, likes, feedbacks are always appreciated! Follow me for more! See you in next chapter!

Cheerio!

Chellez TjS.

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[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.”

[wizkiddx]

Please I request you and Tom Holland being the sort of ‘it/star couple’ and being really popular in the media and fans

Req if you want?🤪 + I’d love any feedback/tips <3

Sorry I changed this a bit just cos tom rn seems the opposite of being that public and I have 0 imagination, hope this is still okay!

Summary: Tomhollandxactress!reader - as the two of you go on your first public and official event, Tom cant help but show everyone how enamoured he is by you

The fallout of from yesterdays ceremony was definitely not what either of you had expected. Having stirred from sleep before your boyfriend, naturally you’d killed the morning flicking through your phone. As much as you normally tried to avoid the tabloids and twitter, especially after you released your relationship to the world, having had a bunch of your friends actually sent you links to them - it would be rude not to have a quick scan. Especially because, for once, they seemed to be positive.

You see, it had always been the little things with Tom. Even when you had just been getting to know him, it was the small and unconscious actions that even he didn’t know he did. You always said Toms love language was physical - as much as he wanted to say that it was ‘words if affirmation’ or something else corny he’d read on buzzfeed (you’d got him addicted and now lived to regret it). That didn’t mean that he had to be clinging on to you, or excessive PDA or anything of the sort. It was more subtle which somehow made them more special to you. Now though, the whole world seemed to have picked up on it too.

This was the first event the two of you had actually attended together. As in together together. As in not hiding. You had been nominated for best actress; whilst Tom’s newest movie was up for a few accolades too - so fair to say it was a big night for Hollywoods newest couple. Naturally since your instagram post 3 weeks ago, the world was obsessed with you both. All the way in the car, you leg had actually been trembling with nerves - bouncing up and down in your silhettohe heels. In attempt to calm you, Tom bumped his knee against yours before reaching over to actually squeeze your thigh. 

“It’ll be fine you know?” You sighed shakily, turning your head to face Tom’s soft features. Both of you were dressed to the nines, you were in a glittery red chain-look scrappy dress; Tom in an all black suit, except the little pocket square of satin deep red - embellished with a single chain that came from your dress. Hopefully not too cliche but now the both of you were done with hiding - Tom seemed to want to just a little something. You hummed in response, searching the flicks of warm brown in his eyes with yours. 

“It’s just new and we haven’t encountered all the questions yet so I don’t know how to answer them and -”

“We’ll do them together and-and you can say no Y/n/n… you don’t have to answer anything you don’t want to.” Taking a long exhale, you hesitantly nodded, allowing a small smile to grow on your face. It was terrifying but you had this doting and angelic boy by your side. You’d get through any tough questions.

However it wasn’t actually the answers you spoke that evening that stuck in the public mind. 

When you’d first pulled up to the carpet, Tom instantly hopped out and rounded the car door to get to your side just as you swung your legs out toe doorway. After waving quickly at the screaming crowd, he looked down and offered up his hand to you - which you gladly accepted. The LA weather was beautiful, and the evening was just rolling into golden hour- the suns brilliant yellow-orange light bathing your body as you climbed out the car. 

The screaming used to be terrifying and although today was a little more nerve wracking than normal, you still could be nothing but appreciative for all these people showing up. In your head it was so bizarre that anyone would spend so much time and effort to meet you - really you were just normal person, and pretty boring one at that. Yet here you were in the most bizarre situation, there was nothing else to do but smile and wave. 

Just like that you went into the ‘celebrity mode’. The pair of you worked your way down the sides, smiling warmly for selfies and signing various posters and memorabilia. Really there was nothing to worry about, everyone there was nothing but lovely -  many fan girls squealing about how amazing you looked. Tom kept himself close by, occasionally hovering his hand against the small of your back just to reassure you he was there. 

Eventually you worked up to the press line, all of them calling your names with mics outstretched. The two of you approached the first in a long line, Tom taking the moment to just hook his pinky with yours (thinking no one else would notice) because this was clearly the more threatening part of the evening and he just knew you were feeling the anxieties all over again. 

“Tom and Y/n!!! Wow how are you guys doing?” Hence began the start of overenthusiastic small talk from the blonde interviewer. 

“I mean first I gotta ask you Tom…” She drew out the words, increasing the suspense somewhat, making Tom wiggle his brows “How insane does your girl look tonight?” 

“Oh well” Tom chuckled whilst you tried to shake off the embarrassment. He looked you up and down with the biggest smirk on his face. “It’s fair to say my woman looks absolutely breathtaking. She came out the room and I did a little excited dance before we left.” The interviewer laughed and you bumped into his side, rolling your eyes in a joking fashion- though to be fair it was completely true. The interviewer then asked you a couple questions that were a bit more serious, relating to the darker material of work you were nominated for. During it a random gust of wind flew down the carpet, shocking everyone a little - none more so that the minimal pins in the top of your hair, which did little to restrict its movement and instead was flying allover the place. Squealing a little, your trial of though momentarily broken, both yours and Tom’s hands went to pull the long locks back down into place. You thought nothing of it, Tom had developed this weird thing about wanting to do you hair weeks ago - but you weren’t to complain. Constantly during movie nights, he’s be running his fingers through your strands of hair; or even after a shower he’d learn to plait it whilst you did your skincare routine. Whispering a little thanks to him, Tom then reached down to squeeze your hand as the attention was turned back to yet another interview. 

The first article you clicked on was one that your best mate had texted you the link of. On opening it up, the title already made you scoff a little ‘Tom Holland single handedly restoring all hopes that men aren’t always trash’. What followed was 4 points. 

You ever struggled to get out a car in heels? Get yourself a Spiderman to help you up

Hand holding too much PDA? How about a pinky grip?

Oh and he’s trained himself to become a hairdresser when the wind picks up….

Accompanying each subheading was photos of each moment that as it had happened yesterday evening. Unable to help yourself, you kept looking between your phone screen and Tom - who was still fast asleep, his arm wrapped protectively round your middle.  The hair that had been so securely gelled back yesterday evening, now was falling over the front of his forehead and the sight was enough to give you that feeling in the centre of your chest. The dropping feeling as if you were jumping off the edge of a cliff - the adrenalin rush and heart in mouth moment. It had been 18 months you and Tom had been like this and he still gave you the most intense flutters - even if he was snoring. 

Managing to tear your eyes away from him, you scrolled to the last point of the article.

      4.  And yes we know this is cliche… but we swear we have never seen ‘heart eyes’ in reality more that this.

And there was a photo of you, probably chatting pure shit to the interviewer, paying absolutely no attention to a particular pair of brown eyes on you. It was the way the outer corner of his eyes dropped a little to normal position; the way the corner of his lips were turned up just enough to show the slight dimples on his cheeks. Tom’s face had literally been the definition of uwu and you could not suppress the teenage girl like giggle that burst out your chest. That was enough to rouse Tom with a heavy groan, as he pulled himself flush against your side releasing a deep breath.

“Mhmmm… you laughin at me?” He slurred, eyes still shut against your stomach as you stared to card your fingers through his curls. 

“Actually… I might just be” Smirking down at him, Tom yanked his his neck up, squinting at you with a scowl and barely open eyes. “You look so soft” laughing at his expression, you brought your hand out of his curls to smooth over his frown lines.

“ Don’t try and distract me… what you laughing at?” Still pouting, of course, the boy had never been a morning person

“Just… I think you’ve accidentally made us the new Hollywood ‘it’ couple.”

[switchbladedreamz]

This feeling I wish to express

***I, the author, do not consent to stealing, plagiarism, or posting any of my work anywhere unless done so by myself***

Vampire!Yelena Belova x fem!reader

I spent a lot of time on this. A lot of different angles and changes and I finally decided on this. This is one of my favorite tropes, and I really love the Yelena character. Yes she is a vampire but not for plot, she just is cuz why not? Let me know if you'd like a part two!

I roll out of bed, my bare feet hitting the cold and dark hard wood floors. Its 9:30 pm on an August evening. What's that mean? Dusk has set, darkness soon to take its place. My feet carry me to the kitchen, I grab two different bottles of the now-safe-to-drink-and-won't-give-you-vampire- aids-TruBlood. The rare O positive and B negative. The bottles are half full. I grab a coffee mug and pour two parts O positive, emptying the bottle completely and one part B negative, leaving half of that one. Placing the mug in the microwave I nuke it for 30 seconds. Before the microwave can go off after the one second mark, there she is. Yelena Belov. In all of her ethereal vampire glory. The warm The Office mug in her hands. "Thank you my love" "Of course, how did you sleep?" "Like the dead" she stared at me with a goofy grin till I gave, laughing at her pun. "What shall we do tonight?" Yelena hops onto the counter and finished her drink. "I was thinking we could go visit my parents, see how the pigs are doing". I smile and agree, "sounds nice. Just a quick trip to Russia, totally normal." "Totes". Yelena zooms past me, probably grabbing clothes for me to wear. She comes back, skin tight leather caressing her form. "As much of a goddess you look right now, please tell me you grabbed me something warmer." "Yes, I remember what happened last time, and how I had to make it up to you all night" she smirks, bringing our "hut night" as she calls it. We did it in a hut, that's the story.

After a quick outfit change, she calls our ride service. One of the best thing about dating a spy/assassin is the connections, a quick trip to Russia in a private jet. "Love wait, you're not going to eat Jimmothy Jonas and Matthew Tuck are you?" I asked, feigning concern. Yelena looked at me like I had kicked a puppy, "what the fuck are you talking about?" Her accent coming out thick. "The pigs! Yelena! Think of the pigs!" "Oh fuck, put your seatbelt on. I'm not a Cullen, I don't eat animals. Who are those people anyways?". "Well Jimmothy is a fake name, Jonas from the boy band. And Matthew Tuck is the lead singer of Bullet For My Valentine". "You and your music my love, I swear you love it more than me sometimes.". She leaned her head on my shoulder, "kidding. I know you love me more". "Please, babe. Know your limits." I respond back. She moved to get up but I grabbed her hand and pulled her back down immediately. "I'm kidding! I'm kidding! Don't leave me in this seat alone". She sat down beside me once more. Her opposite hand caressed my cheek, "I'll never leave you, I pinky promise". We interlocked the small digits, we take them seriously in our relationship.

The plane arrived at the makeshift strip in what seemed like no time. Yelena has the ability to do that. Not literally, I just love her and spending time with her. She takes my breath away with her selflessness, her laughing at my corny jokes and puns.

We spend the next few hours drinking and dancing with each other. After we arrived to her mother's home, I squeal. I try to get out of the jeep we transferred to as fast as i can. I watch as Melina waves us down. I stop to give her a hug, "hi! Where are the children?" "The pigs are in the back, (Y/n), where's Yelena-". A gust of wind hit us and Yelena was beside me. She hugs her mom and kisses her cheek. They go inside and I stay out to play with the pigs.

Yelena's P.O.V.

I watch as the love of my life plays in the mud with the pigs. She's so carefree, having fun. "I feel the best of my self when I'm with her." Melina looks to me and smiles, "you love her to your core darling. May the gods bless you.". I turn to her and smile and hug her. "Thank you. Now, how do we do this?". Mum's face is graced with an evil smile.

Hours later after dinner, we put up the christmas tree. None of us practice Christianity but still we celebrate. The ladies have me speed around and put up the lights around the house. It reminds me of Ohio, the photos, the songs. But its not the lights, the tree, the ornaments. It is the love I feel for her. She is my home. A single tear rolls down my cheek, but not in sadness. "Love are you okay?" (Y/n) pulls my hands in to hers and looks at me, analyzing. "Yes, beauty. Never better. I'm going to grab something from upstairs.". I walk, I take my time.

My legs shake, this feeling of nervousness unfamiliar but I chase it. She's worth it. I open my bag and pull out the black velvet box the size of my palm. I place it in my jacket pocket, I squeeze the box. Fear settling in me, for what I do next will change our lives. Hopefully for the better. Theres a slam and sudden commotion down stairs, I rush down and come face to face with Natasha. She hugs me and watch as Red hugs (Y/n). "I'm so glad you could make it, what a surprise!" I laugh gently. Natasha leans to my ear and whispers "I'm so happy for you, she'll say yes, don't worry.". She gives me a thumbs up before turning to Melina. I let them catch up before catching everyone's attention. "I'm glad you're all here. I have something to share with you.". I hold my hand out for (Y/n) to join me.

(Y/n)'s P.O.V.

I look around confused but accepted Yelena's offer of her hand. "Why is everyone smiling weirdly at us?". I laugh nervously. I calm as my eyes connect with my lover's. Yelena kneels before me and time stops. She pulls out a small black box, my heart stops next. My breathe is gone after. "My beauty, my blossom, light of my life. You know my life inside and out, I've never had a home. But I am proud to say that you are it, no matter where we are as long as I am with you I'm never without laughter, never without light, you chase away my demons. As im saying this, when I planned this, it's like my heart stopped all over again. I was nervous and fearful, and as i kneel before you, I dont feel it." She opened the box and inside was an extravagant black diamond ring. "I got in Rome, on our first vacation together 5 years ago. I knew then and just like I know now. I love you. (Full name), will you marry me?" I'm crying, a sob escapes me before my answer. I nod. "Yes!". She places the ring on my finger, I kneel down and kiss her. She wraps her arms around me. After we stand up I laugh, and laugh and laugh. "Yelena. You ruined it. I can't believe it. You ruined all of it. I love you so much and this belongs to you". I pull out a similar box, rose gold. I kneel in front of her and open it. "My speech is no where near as grand as yours was. But, funnily enough, I got this on our second trip to Ibiza. The shop owner said it belonged to a duchess who visited the island in the 50s, she lost the ring on the beach and his father found it and kept it, he told me tons of men tried to by it off of his father and him for years but he kept it for the right person. I see you in the ring. I see our life together. Your smile, your strange love of brie. The point is, to end of my life- I will love you and with this ring i make this promise." I place the ring on her finger. We hug and stay in the special coinkidink of a moment that is only ours.

Yelena's ring for you

This is your ring for Yelena

[tbmunson]

First Day - Eddie Munson

This is my first time posting anything on here in years. I couldn't get the idea of being the new kid out of my head so I ran with it.

WC - 626

I hope to be posting more soon. I will be taking requests/prompt ideas so please feel free to do so!

It was the first day back at Hawkins High from Winter break, and your first day ever. Your parents held off moving for as long as they could, hoping for you to finish your senior year back home in Washington state. Obviously that was no longer happening.

You walked through the front door of the school clad in white combat boots, black skinny jeans, a Motley Crue t shirt and a leather jacket. You made your way to the front office for you class schedule, earning a lot of attention along the way.

The weight of the stares was starting to get heavy as the office door finally closed behind you, hiding you away for a moment.

"You must be Y/N L/N." The older, curly haired lady said as the typed away on the computer in front of her.

"Yes ma'am." You answered, death gripping the straps to your backpack.

The machine to her right came alive and spit out a sheet of paper. "This is your class schedule, dear. If you need to make any changes do so within the week, back here with me." She nodded as she spoke before sending you on you way.

The classes themselves weren't bad, but the feeling of eyes boring into you was uncomfortable. It was finally lunchtime and you opted to sit alone, trying to decompress from the first four classes. Not that it was that relaxing, since everyone was still watching, or at least it felt like it.

"You look like you could use a friend, M'lady." A male voice said as someone plopped down opposite of you.

You looked up, taking in the long curly hair and big brown doe eyes of a guy who donned a graphic t shirt, a leather jacket, and a jean vest over it. "I think I could." You answered, sending a soft smile his direction.

"Great! I'm Eddie Munson. Most people around here though call me 'The Freak'." He replied, his eyes falling a bit.

"I think you're sweet. I'm Y/N L/N." You said, reaching a hand out to put on his, causing a smile to break across his face. "What's Hellfire Club?" You asked, reading his shirt.

He looked down then back up at you. "Promise not to laugh." He said, pulling his hands back to open his jacket a bit more.

"Pinky swear." You answered, offering him your pinky finger.

He dropped one side of his jacket and secure your pinky in his. "It's my Dungeons and Dragons club. I'm the Dungeon Master and that little group of misfits over there," He pointed to a table of guys who quickly looked away and began whispering amongst themselves, "are my friends. We have a meeting tonight if you're down."

"You inviting me to play, Munson?" You quirked an eyebrow at him.

"That depends. Do you play?" He replied, resting his chin in his hand.

You nodded, smirking at him. "I thought I wouldn't be able to play again. It's so hard in Washington to get accepted into another group. I assumed it would be the same here. I'd be honored."

Eddie just looked at you for a few seconds before standing. "Come. Let's introduce you to the guys." He offered you a hand even though he was on the opposite side of the table.

You took it, letting him lead you down the table until you two met at the end.

Eddie lifted your hand and lead you in a small spin before dropping his arm around you. He smiled down at you, one that was contagious and left your heart hammering in your chest.

You were sure everyone was still watching, you just couldn't bring yourself to care anymore. You were genuinely happy.

[hyggescribbles]

Fierce and Feisty Friday

So @loonysama tagged me in a post, and after poking around, I see that it's where we share our writings that have fierce and/or feisty dialog? I think I can handle that! I'll share an oldie (but hopefully a goodie) from my first Kristanna fic ever, I Can't Give You Much, But I Can Give You This. Enjoy a taste of chapter 2:

Finally warm! So, so warm, and with a warm meal in her belly. And a lovely warm, fluffy dog now padding over and licking her hand, and a warm ranger person man giving her a warm look from his warm amber-colored eyes and – “Oh no!” she gasped.

“What is it?”

“I forgot your name, Ranger B.! I mean, your first name, I can’t call you Ranger Mr. Bjorgman forever.”

“When have you ever called me that?”

“Just now. And I’ll have to keep doing that forever, until we die of old age, because I forgot the one time you said it.”

“You don’t remember it at all? You came home with a guy and you don’t remember his name?” Her mouth flew open into a shocked O.

“Mr. Ranger Bjorgman, if I had pearls I would be clutching them!” she gasped, and he nearly spit out his beer. “I’m not like that. Really. I promise. I’ll pinky swear and everything!” Anna held out a hand, pinky finger extended, and he tried to push it away.

“Relax, relax. If you ask nicely and promise not to laugh, I’ll tell you my name again. Even though I really love being called Ranger Mister.”

“Don’t forget Mr. Ranger, too, I’m partial to that one.” Anna’s pinky finger came at him again. “I salmon-ly swear to not laugh when you reveal the universe’s greatest secret: your name.” Her face went into what she hoped was her most serious and solemn look and he reached over to slide her glass of wine away from her.

“You’re drunk,” he whispered.

“I know,” she whispered back. “But at least I’m a nice drunk!”

“This is true,” he conceded, and finished his beer. “Now brace yourself for the universe’s greatest mystery.” Anna clutched the table. “It’s Kristoff.” Anna’s eyes grew wide and a realization hit her. He looked relieved – until she reached over and flicked his nose.

“Krist-on!” She flicked his nose the opposite direction. “Krist-off!” His face soured.

“Okay, that’s enough from you,” he groused and stood up, gathering the dishes. She could tell he was mad at her.

“Okay no, wait, I’m sorry, please,” she pleaded, grabbing one of his arms. He looked down at her and it was obvious he was trying to stay neutral. She leapt up, the room swimming a little, to be more eye to eye with him, but why did he have to be so big and tall? “Come here.” She dragged him to the stairs, dirty plates still in his hand, and stepped onto the first riser. No, he was still tall. Geez! Riser number two. Yes! Now they were even. A hand went to each of his shoulders and she looked at how small her hands were compared to him, and thought they must feel like nothing more than a leaf landing on him.

“I’m sorry, were you going to say something, or just stare at your hands?”

If you want to know how the rest of this chapter (and story) goes, then you're just gonna have to read the whole thing on AO3. Happy New Year!

[smutkuna]

Paralyzed in Lust | Sukuna x F-Reader

Part 1

Urban legends always seemed to intrigue you, but that’s all they were. Just legends. You’ve seen enough horror movies to know that practicing those rituals never ended well. Your college friends seemed to have the opposite idea, however.

 They loved to go to abandoned areas and attempt some of the rituals posted online. Safely, of course, but how safe is it? They talked about salt circles, protection wards, sigils, and protection amulets or crystals but is that enough?

 They would mention that attempting to summon a demon is dangerous, but here they are in your studio apartment, talking about calling forth a demon from an urban legend that seemed to pop out of nowhere.

 The urban legend about Ryomen Sukuna, a four-armed demon that no one could seem to invite. You didn’t understand why anyone would want to summon a demon, but you guess curiosity killed that cat.

 You sat on your twin-sized bed lined up against the wall while your friends sat on a two-seater bench situated in front of your bed, underneath the long window. Your studio apartment held all the essentials for a financially struggling college student.

 Entering the apartment, you would be met with a small hallway. On your immediate left is the door to the bathroom, while on your immediate right is a small storage space. Farther in, you’re met with the small space for your bed on the left with a walk-in closet that shares the wall with the bathroom.

 Facing the entrance is the bench underneath a horizontal window with a view of the busy street, covered by some window shutters to give you some privacy. These shutters were currently open, letting in the remaining light from the sunset, but were slightly blocked by your friends.

 To the right of the hallway entrance behind the storage, is your kitchen. It had enough space to fit a bit of counter space, fridge, sink, and dishwasher. Adjacent to your kitchen, across your bed, and near the bench was an L-shaped divider hiding a portable washer and dryer.

 “[Y/n]!” your friend, Nobara, exclaimed. “Will you finally join us for this ritual? I know you’re not really into these things, but it’s safe, I swear. We even have our protection spells and everything.”

 You hummed in apprehension. “I’m not sure I’m ready to do those yet.”

 Megumi, your other friend, nodded his head. “Okay, but just let us know whenever you want to join us or if you end up doing it on your own...” he grabbed some of Nobara’s amulets and his salt bags. “Here, I’ll lend some to you in case you change your mind.”

 He placed the items in your bag.

 “Thank you. When are you both planning on doing the ritual?” you asked them.

 “Ah, maybe tonight? We have nothing else planned, and we’ve been itching to try this ritual out ever since we saw it on a forum.” Nobara replied. She pulled out her phone and scrolled for a while before handing it to you. “Everyone’s been talking about it, but no one’s been able to pull it off.”

 Megumi then spoke. “Yeah and no one’s sure about where this urban legend came from anyway so we don’t know if it’s real or not. That’s why we want to see for ourselves.”

 You took a peek at Nobara’s phone and read parts of the forum out loud.

 “Ryomen Sukuna... Four-armed demon… To begin the ritual, cut the pads of all your fingers until blood oozes out. Bro what?” You looked at your friends in confusion. They simply shrugged and told you to continue reading.

 “Soak your bloody fingers in a large bowl of water until the water is stained dark red. Remove your hands from the bowl and do this hand sign by connecting your thumb, middle, and ring finger pads while your index and pinky fingers are bent towards your palms. What in the summoning-jutsu is this?”

 You attempted the hand signs after you had placed her phone on your bed. Megumi lightly laughed and showed you how to do it properly.

 “Girl, you watch too much Naruto.” Nobara snickered.

 You rolled your eyes and smirked. “I’m not the only one simping over Kakashi and Itachi. You’re just as guilty.”

 “Here [y/n], continue reading the rules.’ Megumi said, handing you the phone.

 “Say ‘Domain Expansion: Malevolent Shrine’ after performing the hand sign and dunk your face into the bowl of water and blood. After this, Sukuna will appear. To properly end the ritual, thank him for his time and say ‘Cleave.’ This is critical. Failure to do so will leave you with cursed energy around you. **For extra protection, perform an exorcism.”

 You sighed after reading the rules of the forum. It seemed easy enough but you weren’t sure whether it was worth the risk to have cursed energy if it failed and did you need to perform an exorcism?? Wasn’t that a bit too much? Plus, you wanted all the luck you could get since you just applied for an internship for the fall quarter.

 “Well, if you both decide to do this, please be safe,” you told your friends.

 Nobara smiled and grabbed her small backpack. “Don’t worry, we’ll text you what happens. We were thinking of recording it anyway, so we’ll send that to you later tonight after we try it.”

 She hugged you and started walking to the door followed by Megumi.

 “You can keep the rest of the pizza. It’s not easy for me to digest,” he said, as he double-checked to make sure you had the amulets and salt bags. You smiled at him, eyes showing appreciation because you had very little food left in your fridge.

 “Thank you, Megumi. Good night, you two. I’ll see you both tomorrow after work.” you said, waving to them as they left your apartment complex. Once they were out of your sight, you closed and locked your entrance door.

 You grabbed your laptop and made your way toward the kitchen, putting it on top of the small counter space you had. You sighed as you put away the leftover pizza in the fridge. Being an avid horror fan, you enjoyed the paranormal, but partaking in anything of the sort in real life made you nervous.

 The urban legend of Sukuna intrigued you, even if the ritual was slightly strange. Wouldn’t you faint from losing so much blood? Plus, who the fuck is Sukuna anyway? What made him so special for people to want to do this sort of thing?

 Facepalming, you opened a web browser on your laptop and did a simple search. Who is Ryomen Sukuna?

 You scrolled through countless forums, talking about the ritual and how it didn’t work. No one seemed to be able to conjure Ryomen Sukuna. The problem was that no one knew who he was. Only that he was a strong demonic entity that holds a lot of cursed energy and has two faces and two sets of arms.

 Two sets, huh? What, does he have two dicks too? You laughed to yourself, but then rolled your eyes and groaned. You needed to get laid.

 Further throughout your research, you decided to take a break and looked over to the clock on the wall above your washer and dryer. It was 11:56 PM, indicating that your friends left three hours ago.

 You took a glance at your phone that was charging next to your laptop and noticed that Megumi and Nobara had sent an attachment to your group chat. Unplugging your phone from the charger, you unlocked it and strode over to the bathroom.

 Your group chat read:

 “Hey [y/n], we finished the ritual but nothing happened. Bummer, I was looking forward to summoning one of the most difficult demons to conjure up.” Nobara sent at midnight.

 “Oi, here’s the video,” Megumi replied, with a black screen video attached after his message.

 Oh wow, they actually recorded it. You thought, adding some toothpaste to your toothbrush. You pressed on the video and let it play while you brushed your teeth.

 You watched as both your friends performed the finger-bleeding step and you couldn’t help but gag a little. That’s a shit ton of blood. It took a while considering each of their fingers had a small cut, and the bowls were large. After a couple of minutes, Megumi and Nobara removed their hands from the bowl and performed the hand sign.

 “Domain Expansion: Malevolent Shrine.” You heard them chant once and then watched them dunk their head into the bloody water as you spit out your toothpaste and rinse your mouth.

Standing in front of the mirror and sink, you stared at the video, watching your friends and waiting for something to happen.

 In the video, you saw Nobara and Megumi look at each other and shrug. You fast-forwarded the video a bit, looking for any sign that the ritual worked but the video ended with them thanking Sukuna and saying “Cleave” before anything appeared.

 Exiting out of the video, you sent a response to the group chat.

 “I’m sorry nothing happened, guys. I know you were excited for something to happen.”

 “It’ll make us feel better if you tried it yourself hehe” Nobara replied with a smirk emoji.

 You stared at her message for a while, contemplating what you should do. Preparing for your night routine, you stripped and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water run down your back, massaging your aching muscles.

 You had a long day at work, and now you were stuck on whether you should do this ritual or not. Nothing has been happening to anyone anyway, so most likely nothing will happen to you. This ritual was probably a hoax, just a trend since people were bored. Right?

 Please conscience, what do I do? AH FUCK IT.

 After you had finished your shower, you hastily applied your lotions and pajamas which consisted of a tank top and lace underwear. You grabbed your phone from the bathroom and reread the forum on what to do, sending another reply to Nobara saying that you’ll do the ritual.

 You grabbed the essential items you needed: salt, amulet, a large basin of water, and a pocket knife. You released a large breath you seemed to be holding and read the text you just received from the group chat.

 “AYE, that’s my girl!!” Nobara sent with a grinning gif.

 “Be safe [y/n]. Text us if anything happens and don’t forget to use the salt and amulets.” Megumi responded.

 “I’ll record myself and send it to both of you once I finish” 

 You balanced your phone on the foot of your bed, pressed record, and placed the ritual items on the floor beside you, grabbing the amulet first and placing the tie around your neck. 

 Please protect me. You thought as you gripped the amulet and placed some salt in a circle, trapping yourself within it. 

 You steadied your breathing and positioned the bowl in front of you. 

 All right. Let’s get this over with.

 Slicing the pads of your fingertips with the pocket knife, you held your fingers over the large basin, watching the blood drip into the water. 

 God, I should’ve played some music in the background. The silence is killing me. I swear to God if that fucking Tip Toe Through the Meadow song from Insidious plays on a radio, I’m going to burn this building down.

 The water rippled as each blood drop collided with it. Your nerves were on high alert, but you were too scared to glance around your room. What if there was a shadow at your doorway or a ghost in the mirror? WHAT IF it was right behind you?!

 You cried internally and tried to rid your thoughts of anything horrific. After what seemed to be forever, waiting in agony, the bowl was painted crimson. You released another breath and tried to remember the next step of the ritual.

 Ah right, the jutsu sign.

 You formed the hand sign and said out loud, “DOMAIN EXPANSION: MALEVOLENT SHRINE.” 

 Cringing, you dipped your head into the bowl and stayed there until you needed a gulp of air. 

 This is disgusting, why am I doing this again?

 Your face was tinted with blood and you carefully looked around your room without the blood dripping onto your laminated floors. Your hearing was heightened due to the lack of light in the room, but you heard nothing. You felt nothing. 

 It probably didn’t work. Thank you, God. I can live to see another day.

 “Ryomen Sukuna, if you’re there, thank you for your time. Let’s not do this again, please and thank youuu.” you sang. “CLEAVE.”

 You grabbed your phone from the footrest of your bed, ended the recording, and texted the group chat.

 “I just finished. Nothing happened to me either. I guess it is just a hoax.”

 “Damn. What if we did something wrong? Let’s try it again.” Nobara said.

 “My face has my blood dripping from it, no thank you.” 

 “You said ‘Cleave,’ right [y/n]?” Megumi questioned.

 “Yup. I’m gonna go clean up and try to sleep. I’ll see you both tomorrow. Good night!” 

 Bidding each other good night, you swept the salt circle and drained the bloody water into the bathroom sink. You rinsed your face of any remnants of the ritual and reapplied your moisturizer. 

 Plopping onto your bed and hiding under the covers, you glanced once more at the clock. It read 2 AM. 

 Damn, I have class in 6 hours. Note to self: stop registering for 8 AM classes in case you decide to do rituals late into the night.

 You closed your eyes and attempted to sleep, but you couldn’t stop tossing and turning. Something didn’t feel right. You felt suffocated like something was watching you. You were too scared to open your eyes and hid further into your covers.

 Sure, [y/n]. They’ll never know I’m under here.

 You kept tossing and turning for thirty minutes because you just couldn’t find that comfortable spot. Suddenly, you felt a sensation on your limbs. 

 What the fuck?

 You froze. You felt like each of your limbs were grabbed by one… two… FOUR HANDS?! You didn’t want to believe it. You couldn’t believe it. No fucking way the ritual worked. Counting to three, you screamed and punched into the air. 

 Nothing was there. No one was there. You were alone.

Part 2: https://smutkuna.tumblr.com/post/655579886704017408/paralyzed-in-lust-sukuna-x-f-reader

[tarantulas4davey]

more hc’s!! even though i’m in school!!

al mining all the way to bedrock with race and being like ‘hey babe can you get this block for me i’m gonna build our house try to get at least five okay?’

and race, clueless, is like ‘sure babe!’ and after twenty minutes race is loSING HIS MIND and al is like uhhh babe i kinda need it?? and race is like, near tears, IM TRYING IM TRYINF I SWEAR I SWEAR

eventually al tells him and race unplugs al’s computer

race speaking italian bc he’s stressed and al doesn’t know what he’s saying but dear god that’s so hot

people make a million gifs abt al’s face and race is like ‘oh so italian is a turn on for you huh?’ but race, little bitch, says it in italian and watches al live up to his nickname of red

one time al is rly tired as he’s streaming and just falls asleep at his computer and race is facing his computer and eventually he realizes he’s been rambling and that al hasn’t said much? and he’s like ‘uhh babe you okay?’ and then looks over and you can see the exact moment his heart bursts bc al just dozed off and he’s so cute and the comments r going crazy

al is pretty shy abt it he’s like oh my god they saw me sleeping that’s so embarrassing hey race stop!! it wasn’t cute!!! and race is like uhhh yeah it was but he’s still sweet ofc and al (who’s slowly becoming more comfortable with himself) is like oh. okay. and the fans are like THATS SO ADORABLE

someone points out at one point that race and al have the exact same follower count and they’re like !!! that’s actually so cute!!!

race’s background is him and al and al’s is just race and they’re so cute and so in love

race n al both getting super into the game and they’re put on opposite teams and become like. lethal. like race is super smart ofc but he’s not saying anything so al has NO idea where to find him, but alternatively, someone keeps killing race’s teammates and no one can seem to beat them theyre so strong??

at one point al walks in and race is like hey hey hey! it’s radioactive red! and starts playing radioactive by imagine dragons and al, bright red, is like i’m going to kill you slowly and race, cheeky bastard, is like ha that’s kinda hot babe and winks and al’s just turning even more red

and ppl are like????? wait wait wait how is al the top did you see how flustered he got?

race n al literally laying on top of each other and full body cuddles but they both get so red when they hold hands and everyone’s like? you just literally sit in each other’s laps but ok

izzy these are fucking incredible i’m dying 😭

- al is such a little shit he totally would do that. race unplugs albert’s gaming monitor but the one with chat is still up and the cameras still going for the stream so everyone can see race whack al in the head with rolled up magazine from his desk and albert just throws race over his shoulder and spins around in circles while chat is loosing its fuckin mind

- whenever albert and race end up on different teams in a game race isn’t as good at and can’t just,,,,, math his way out (i.e. rocket league) he babbles in italian and it got to the point where al would get so distracted he would end up loosing the game cause he’s too busy internally going holyshitthatsreallyhotholyshitholyshit. albert went absolutely scarlet when he saw all the gifs of it and he’s sitting on the couch scrolling through twitter and race walks up behind him and leans down and whispers “why didn’t you mentioned you liked my italian” in italian and albert just ✨looses it✨

- SLEEPY 👏 ALBERT 👏 he doesn’t fall asleep on stream very often, but they do 12+ hour charity livestreams at least once a month so,,,, tired red is a common occurrence. he lives in a perpetual state of,,, ruffled? messy hair sticking up in every direction, a voice that always kinda sounds like he just woke up, constantly reaching for some form of affection from race that’s vaguely reminiscent of a toddler that just woke up from a nap between games, the like. he’s also a very deep sleeper, and it makes his already young face go from about,,,, 19? 20? to like 16 at best. he’s definitely getting better about seeing himself more accurately and all the fans think it’s so cute he doesn’t vehemently reject all of race’s compliments anymore.

- of course these two would be cute about having the same follower count. at one point someone follows albert but not race and race threatens to unfollow albert just to fix it, but about 10 seconds later the person follows him too and all balance is restored to the universe

- they’re 100% eachothers phone backgrounds. their lock screens is that cute thing where race has the half of the picture with albert in it and albert has the half of the picture with race in it and when you set their phones next to eachother in makes one picture. albert’s home screen is art jack made of them for his birthday. and race’s is a picture from the disney trip when al proposed.

- race is trying to pick albert’s teammates off from a distance, and he does fairly well for awhile, but as smart as he is race doesn’t have that much experience (especially compared to albert) so race’s teammates are dropping like flies literally ALL OVER the map and race is just like “?????? how the hell who is doing that” and albert is just silently chuckling to himself from his desk. eventually race is the only one left and albert finds him and just laughs maniacally while race dramatically falls out of his chair when he dies.

- y e s ok so albert blushes REALLY EASILY and race is,,,, race, so he’s honestly not that easy to embarrass and the general ‘red being flustered’ thing makes people confused how he’s the top. that is, until once race is laughing at how red albert is and albert just leans over and whispers something to race and race’s mouth snaps shut and his eyes get all wide and he just immediately changes the subject and albert has the smug look on his face and suddenly,,,, it all makes sense and that face race made gets so memed and albert laughs for 20 years over it

- honestly yeah it’s like

race: *kisses al’s neck and sits in his lap to try and distract him while albert keeps playing with a straight face*

also race: *can’t stop giggling for 5 minutes cause albert locked their pinky’s while showing him something and using the mouse*

~ or ~

albert: *carries race around the gaming room in victory or will randomly kiss him full on the mouth cause he just thinks he’s pretty*

also albert: *goes pink every time race calls him any sort of pet name, especially in italian*

this was written while also trying to keep track of the one year old and six year old i’m babysitting so i apologize for any random mistakes. no small children were harmed in the making of this post 😆

thank you for all of these i love them so much jdhdjdjd

[julemmaes]

PP Feysand drabble 1.5

A/N: This is set in the same universe my Nessian fic Pinky Promise is set and it’s basically a chapter 1.5. It’s what happened in Feyre’s room while everyone listened to them arguing and it’s short, but I really want to write their story too - I just don’t want to make it a story itself, so I’ll just post some drabbles (I guess that’s what they’re called) of moments I think are cute or important for their development and relationship. I’ll do the same for Elain and Lucien, Elain and Azriel and also *sighs* Feyre and fucking Tampon, I already have most of them planned out and they’re gonna be not longer than 2k words. I hope you like the idea:)

Word count: 1,740

Rhysand was trying in every way to keep himself still between his two brothers. Alcohol was coursing through his veins and his mind was wandering around on its own, in an unknown world.

It had been a relief for him when he remembered that they were all going to eat at the Archeron's house. Whatever they proposed to him that involved seeing Feyre for even a few hours was a treasure.

He was bickering with Elain about something he couldn't even remember, "But only because you don't have enough sisters for backup, otherwise we'd solve it physically," he muttered. Elain laughed and took another sip of her drink.

"I think all three of us would end up with a boner before anyone could tell the winner," Azriel whispered very softly. Cassian burst out laughing shortly afterwards, clinging to him.

He didn't hear the front door open, but he saw everyone turning in the direction of the entrance and tracked the movement as well. He knew it was Feyre, it had to be her.

He only hoped that she had no company.

He stood up, "Yes Fey-Fey join us," Rhysand echoed Mor's words. He was definitely smiling like a child on Christmas morning and hadn't even seen her yet, just a flash of black of her winter coat.

The second she turned towards them, he tensed up.

Her eyes...

"Feyre," he stepped forward, holding his breath, "What happened?"

She was looking at him, but it was as if she didn't see him.

The swollen, red eyes were a clear sign that he had been crying just seconds earlier.

A tinge of hope lit up in his chest and he almost felt sick to his stomach at the idea of having felt pleasure in the suffering of the woman he loved. Regardless of who had caused the wound and what consequences it had had for the relationship between her and Tamlin, Feyre was crying and was not fine.

She moved slowly, without the bit of life that was once an integral part of her person, "Nothing, don't worry," she answered in a small voice.

Nesta was getting up, but Feyre shook her head, raising one hand.

Rhysand couldn't move, he didn't know what to do.

"I didn't want to ruin your evening, I just came to say hi." she smiled slightly at everyone and when no one answered, she bit her lip tentatively. He stiffened even more beside her, now much closer, "I'm sorry... goodnight everyone."

She turned around and walked out of the room, without even sparring him a glance.

He clenched his hands firmly. What the fuck had just happened?

He heard the others talking, too loudly for Feyre not to hear them, and he wanted to tell them to be quiet, get up and go to her. She certainly wouldn't let him into her room to comfort her at such an unusual hour. It could have got her into trouble.

That last thought made him even angrier.

Tamlin.

It was inevitably his fault.

Feyre had no one else but him.

Amren appeared equally angered when she said, "Can someone explain what the heck just happened and why no one is going to see how she's doing?"

Rhysand found himself in the hallway before Amren had even finished the sentence. He remembered to knock before he opened the door and when the answer didn't come immediately, he brought a hand to his face, rubbed his eyes and tried to polish his thoughts somewhat.

He knocked a second time, louder, and murmured against the wood, "Darling-"

The door opened wide, causing him to stagger forward and forcing the girl to move aside. Shit, he was too drunk. He looked up once he found some composure, finding Feyre with her arms crossed, "Don't call me that." she pointed to the corridor he had just come from, "And get out of my room."

Rhys sighed, "Feyre, please," he stepped towards her, one hand raised with the intention of touching her.

She drew back, her face impassive, "Please, what?" she asked him, hardening her jaw. He didn't answer and she pointed out again, "Get out."

He shook his head, going towards the door and closing it so that he could lean against it, "What happened?"

Feyre took a deep breath, "What are you doing?"

"I want to understand why you came home crying after a date with your boyfriend," he said harshly.

"I don't recall it ever being any of your business," she replied, sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning forward. Rhysand only realized at that moment how nicely she was dressed.

She had beautiful tight black pants that wrapped her legs perfectly and dark green heels, matched with a blouse of the same color that didn't do justice at all to the shapes he knew hid under it.

He snapped his eyes shut, "I just want to know if you're okay."

Feyre scoffed, "I'm fine," she replied immediately, then looked him in the eye and hers were glossy again, "Now please, get out."

He shook his head, "No," he came closer and she pulled her legs up, settling in the middle of the bed, "You're not fine and I want to know why." She looked over his shoulder, "It's Tamlin, isn't it?"

The sudden burst of anger made Rhysand jerk, "I told you to get out of my room!" cried Feyre, standing on the other side of the bed, putting as much distance between them as possible. "You have to get out!"

"I will not leave this room," he whispered, his gaze determined as he tried to suppress his hatred for anyone who had made her suffer in that way, "because you are not safe and I am worried about you," he said, trying to calm her down.

It seemed to have the opposite result on the girl in front of him, "It's all temporary, Rhysand." she laughed, despite her tear-filled eyes, "This will end too. We just had a fight."

He didn't answer, relieved that she was starting to talk about what happened that night.

Then, all of a sudden, she grew even sadder, "Why do you worry?"

Rhysand frowned, "Because I'm your friend. And I don't want you to suffer."

"That's bullshit." she hissed, "Everything is temporary." she repeated her and he shook his head, disbelief lining his features, "This too." she pointed her chest before pointing at him.

"Stop it."

"Our friendship." she said that word with a grimace across her face, almost as if even just the idea disgusted her, "Everything is temporary." She wouldn't stop saying those words and he wondered if she had had a drink before getting home. "This. This was merely one of those things."

"That's not true." he snapped.

He wanted to agree with her, but imagined that they both me and you mean two completely opposite things. He could hear the blood rumbling in his ears.

Feyre laughed, she really laughed. "Yes, Rhysand!" she shouted, "We are not friends, you and I."

"I'm with Tamlin." she whispered and a tear slipped down her cheek, "I'm with him and you're no one to me." he recoiled at those words, as if she had physically hit him.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked, swallowing, "If you'd let me-".

"I don't have to let you do anything!" she cried, "I don't need your help or anyone else's! I am fine on my own!" her voice grew louder with every word.

Rhysand pushed himself forward until he touched the mattress with his knees, "Clearly that's not the case!" he yelled in turn, "You need help and I'm here! I'm offering you-"

She interrupted him, going around the room and putting her hands against his chest, "Get out! Leave!" she pushed him against the door, and when he heard someone walking in the corridor, he looked at Feyre, who was now crying. He nodded his head once and then walked out of the room, crashing into Azriel and storming out of the apartment.

He heard Feyre swearing and screaming and he slammed the door behind him. He was coming down the stairs furiously when he heard it open again and sped up the pace, not wanting to see who it was.

As soon as he was out in the fresh air, he slipped his hand into his pocket, pulling out the cigarette packet.

He was not a heavy smoker, but sometimes the school and the children overwhelmed him and he had to find a way to relax. One cigarette a week seemed to do it for him.

He breathed in full lungs and held the smoke in for a few seconds, turning around when he heard the front door of the building close.

Azriel was standing in front of him, hands in his pockets and a serious expression on his face.

He offered him the package and his brother shook his head, frowning, "No, thank you." he murmured, "And you shouldn't smoke either."

Rhysand chuckled, "Feyre just told me we're not friends." he looked like a little kid, "She just told me I'm nobody to her." he whispered, looking down the street.

He could feel Azriel's gaze on his skin.

"Did you find out what happened?" he asked him, making a little cloud with his breath.

He felt guilty for forcing the other one to follow him outside, in this freezing cold.

He shook his head, taking another puff, "Nothing," he answered, then passed his hand over his face. "I shouldn't have gone into her room," he sighed, "I shouldn't have invaded her space like that."

Azriel put his hand on his shoulder, "You did nothing wrong, Rhys."

"How can you say that when all I did tonight was make things worse?" he asked in a pleading tone.

"Because Feyre needs someone to make her understand that this is no life." he saw it in Azriel's eyes that even his brother wanted to take the car and go to the asshole's house to make him pay for every wrong he had done to Feyre.

He said nothing, still too tipsy to face this conversation without going crazy.

"He's a piece of shit and he doesn't deserve her," murmured Rhys.

Azriel smirked, "That's what Elain said."

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[managedmischiefs]

“north” preview// spencer reid

I’ve finally reached 200 followers and as a thank you to my lovely, amazing, and supportive followers, I’m posting a preview to my Spencer fic called “north.” 

I also wanted to thank some of my amazing friends for helping me out with deciding what part to post. All my thanks and love go to @thundergunexpresss @spencer-reid-in-a-pool @baubaby @timey-wimey-lovi 

I hope that everyone enjoys. My inbox is always open and I’d love to hear what you have to say about my writing. Thank you for sticking around the madness and chaos and shit posts of my blog🖤🖤

genre: fluff

warnings: none

word count: 1.6k

"Hi, Spencer," Amelia pops up beside me with her stunning smile.

I take a refreshing breath as soon as I see her, smiling back. "Hi, Amelia," I push myself out of the booth in an attempt to greet her properly.

"Okay," Amelia holds her hands out in front of me, as if stopping me from coming any closer, "so I was thinking about you when you were off at work-"

That's nowhere near the end of her sentence, but it catches my attention the most. I couldn't stop thinking about her, but she was actually thinking about me. It's not one sided. I've never been successful with girls but I did something to this one to make her think about me.

"Or more specifically," she corrects herself, "about how you don't like shaking hands and I totally agree with you. I looked up statistics on handshaking and it's so disgusting. So," she enunciates the word with a huge smile, "I came up with alternatives,"

I raise my eyebrows. "Alternatives?"

"Yeah! For handshaking," Amelia tells me. "So we could high five, but that wasn't my favorite option. We could fist bump, or we could elbow bump, or we could do like," she holds up her hand with her pinky out, "almost like a pinky promise but then I thought that it's still technically touching hands, but we're not covering as much surface area as a whole handshake would. And, of course, I'd assume that hugs are off the table, which is fine." Amelia let's out a little breath and then a giggle. "That was a lot all at once. Sorry about that,"

"No, it's okay," I nervously tuck my hands in my pocket and make a mental reminder to keep my feet still. "It's actually really, um, it's really sweet that you put so much thought into how to greet me,"

Amelia presses her lips together in a shy smile. "I should go order my tea. I'll-"

"Actually, I-"

"Spencer!"

I let out a small laugh at the perfect timing. "I noticed your order the other day and I ordered for you already, if that's okay. I hope it is,"

Despite it being five incredibly long days after our first meeting, Amelia is just as stunning to me now as she was before. Her skin is glowing and her eyes are still harnessing the beauty of the ocean. Her hair is up in a bun today with some pieces still falling out to frame her face. She's wearing a black turtleneck with a plaid skirt, black stockings, and the same black heeled boots as before. There's no camera around her neck today, but I see the straps of her leather backpack around her shoulders and I assume it's tucked away in there. She looks different, sure, but I still have to keep myself from swooning.

"That's really sweet of you, Spencer, thank you," I can swear Amelia's cheeks are red.

"Sit, I'll go grab them," I gesture back to the table before rushing off to grab both of our piping hot drinks, rushing back before they can cool off too much. I sit back down and slide the cup over to Amelia, which she grabs with a grateful nod. "So how are you?"

Amelia takes the first sip of her tea as I pull off the top of mine and blow gently. "I'm pretty great, actually. The weather isn't so nice out today, but it makes for some beautiful pictures. What about you?"

"I'm," I weigh my options of what I could say for a moment, "happy to be here,"

…

"Tomorrow, same time? As long as you don't get a case today,"

"That sounds like a plan to me," I stand at the same time Amelia does, putting my messenger bag over my shoulder and leading her out. I make sure to hold the door open for her and let her out first to be a gentleman. "So I'll text you or call you later and let you know if I get a case,"

"I'll be waiting," she says as she buttons up her coat and then puts her back on, smiling at me.

We're facing each other in front of the door to the cafe, just waiting for the proper goodbye. I hold up my hand with my pinky sticking out, and I'd do anything to immortalize the smile that comes to Amelia's face in that exact moment.

"I knew you'd like this one," she murmurs, wrapping her warm pinky around mine. "I'll talk to you soon, Dr Reid,"

"You know, you can call me Spencer," I say, almost refusing to let go of her hand.

"I'll think about it," she smirks, pulling away and going walking the opposite way. I watch her go, too entranced by her to even move. She has a certain youthful bounce to the way she walks that makes me want to run right up to her and sweep her off her feet.

But I shake my head at my own intrusive thoughts and force myself to turn around and get to the metro. I can't afford to be late again. I can't afford anyone asking questions.

///

The world has a funny way of working, and I've noticed that many times throughout the years. Nothing ever works out the way I think it will. After all I've seen, I expect to work myself to death and die alone. I'm a loose canon and it's obvious. I keep myself reined in, but that won't last for long. I don't deserve to be loved.

But then Amelia waltz's into my life. She comes bouncing in with her black heels, vintage cameras, tea bags, nose piercing, beautiful smile, and equally stunning laugh. She makes me feel like a normal person. She doesn't treat me like an FBI agent, or like someone who has endured trauma, and maybe that's because I haven't told her about any of trauma, but I intend to keep it that way for as long as I can. Amelia comes laughing into my life with her denim skirts that aren't appropriate for the cold weather, curly blonde hair wrapped in patterned scarves or tied back in scrunchies, love for red wine, entrancing blue eyes, and her affinity for strawberries.

It's impossible to not fall in love with her and I hate myself for that. She makes it easy, so maybe it's not my fault that I can't get her out of my head. Maybe it's not my fault that I look at the empty spot on my desk and wonder what it would be like to have a picture of her there. Maybe it's not my fault that I hold her pinky in mine for far too long when we say our goodbyes. I wish I could blame my feelings all on her. I wish I could blame Amelia for how fast I'm falling for her.

I fall in love with the energy she radiates. I fall in love with the way she speaks of her creative process while painting a new piece or drawing a new picture. I fall in love with the way she claims she has a foolproof formula for finding hidden treasures in any given thrift store. I fall in love with the way she talks about her artistic and creatives processes. She speaks of everything with such passion and fire in her eyes that it draws me in. Amelia has taken to setting an alarm on her phone so that I make sure I leave on time for work and every few days, she makes sure to show up before I do so that she can order both of our drinks so that it's not always me ordering for her and "wasting my money on her hot, flavored water."

Amelia and I keep up our morning coffee meetings for two months. We meet as much as we can, only taking the time off when I'm not away on a case. It's actually normalizing my sleep schedule too and I'm getting more sleep than I have in two years- or since Maeve died. When these meetings started, I used to not be able to sleep out of pure excitement of knowing I'd be able to see Amelia again. But then she started to text me the night before, sometimes to remind me to set an alarm so I'm not late or to remind me to bring a magic trick to show her (magic tricks are now common occurrences in the mornings) or to just say how she's looking forward to seeing me tomorrow. Most people usually aren't excited to see me specifically.

The word date never surfaced in any of our conversations. I'm not sure if any of these would be considered a date. Typically, dates happen at night, but these coffee meetings happening bright and early in the morning. And maybe I'm too scared to even bring up the word date because then that will solidify what we're doing, if we even are doing anything. I'm too scared to admit that I'm falling way too hard for Amelia.

I wish I could man up and ask her out for real. I want to be able to see her outside of the confines of this tiny cafe just a block away from my apartment. I want to be able to see her out on the town, laughing and bouncing on her toes in the adorable way that she does. I want to maybe be somewhere with her where we're not just sitting and drinking tea or coffee. I want to know even more about her. I want to know everything. I know I feel something strong towards her and as much as I don't want to admit it, I need to figure out what it is before I go insane.