#(( and maybe a tapestry or can badge ><< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[hello-vampire-kitty]

Servamp online kuji: how to get the merchandise

There are new Servamp merchandise that can be obtained through online kuji (lottery)

(h)ttps://kujibikido.com/lp/servamp/?utm_source=twitter&utm_medium=social&utm_campaign=twi

Tumblr has a problem with links, remove the () from the adress to go on the kuji website.

I'll try to provide some help if you would like to obtain them, based on my experience ordering stuff from Japan.

To start off, the kuji will start on December 1st and will last until December 29th (Japan time).

One draw costs 770 yen.

Estimated shipping time: Ships around early March to early April 2024

Alright, so how kuji works is that you have categories, this one having from A-D and another one called S. Each category has different merchandise and you cannot choose the item you want, so if you wanted an item with a specific character within the category and you don't get it on the first draw, you'll have to try again until you get it.

From what I have seen on the official website, if you only get the S category, you can select between these two framed artworks.

Category A- Acrylic stands

Category B- Half tapestries

Category C- Acrylic charms

Category D- Can badges

Okay, so like I mentioned, it's been a while since I bought things from Japan and only once did I get stuff from kuji.

If you never bought from Japan before, you're gonna have to look into a proxy or forwarding service. They're middlemen basically that will ship items where you live because most shops in Japan do not have international shipping.

A proxy service is where you will have everything handled by the service, from buying until shipping your items.

This method is for those who are not confident to handle part of the processes themselves because they don't understand Japanese.

Proxy might also be the only option if for some reason, you want to order stuff within Japan to be delivered to the middleman's warehouse, however your debit/credits cards might be rejected. (not many online stores offer Paypal or Google Pay. Animate Japan has Paypal, I got Servamp merchandise from there).

So if you try various cards and none of them will work, then you have to use proxy service because some shops might reject foreign cards.

If there are stuff that you want from online stores that sell second-hand items (such as Mercari) or you want something from auctions, you have to use proxy because you need someone in Japan to discuss with the sellers.

You need to look into services and see which ones will be best for you, based on their handling fees and what things they can do on your behalf, like the stuff like I mentioned above.

So, I summarized the proxy service and there's another one called forwarding service that I mainly used in order to reduce costs, because shipping isn't cheap...

The main difference about forwarding service is that you handle the buying part. You make the necessary accounts on the websites where the merchandise is sold, maybe even have to reply to messages...

If choose this option, when you create accounts on websites, you have to use the shipping adress provided by the forwarding service.

Once you set up the accounts and succeed in making purchases, the items will be delivered to the warehouse in Japan, to the middle-man.

So, this is the option if you want to save a bit of money. You can't do auctions or buy from second-hand shops because they are bit more complicated and you would need the help of someone living in Japan.

I hope this helps! You gotta look into these services and see their offers. Wish you good luck if you will try getting the merchandise!

[fog-and-rust]

Here we go again with screenshots

The Restricted Section has the coolest tapestries

***

Fluffy buddies

***

Stained glass with Hogwarts Founders

***

This place reminds me of an old game Keepsake (2006). I adored this game. Maybe it's the reason why I enjoy Hogwarts Legacy so much.

***

I want this writing-desk. It looks epic

***

I headcanon that this is the place Zenobia used to go to console herself after failing social interactions before MC befriended her (I always return her Gobstones. My MC is a menace to dark wizards, goblins and Puffskein Dunkein, but she is nice to Zenobia)

***

Love the ambience. Wonder if these images of Demiguise scare Mr Moon

***

Cool signs ahead, but the troll one didn't work

***

Cool aesthetic

***

Cozy corner at the entrance to Ravenclaw Common Room.

***

Their battle will be legendary! Let my Hufflepuff girl enter Ravenclaw Common Room just to vibe there.

***

He looks so soft

***

My MC is on her way to tell her classmates how awesome Chinese Chomping Cabbages are

***

Ominis gets his beauty sleep at every opportunity

***

Everett is wondering if he can change Duncan's Boggart from Puffskein into Venomous Tentacula

***

Closeup of Professor Sharp's Auror Badge (if someone needs references)

***

Bestie, stop. If you want to be dramatic, go jump from Astronomy Tower. Use Fizzing Whizzbees or Levioso to survive

***

I feel like three of them could become good friends. Each one is a loner and can be a savage so they can understand each other

***

He can infodump about ALL the ingredients in Potions Classroom and I'll listen to it for hours

***

Kink suggestion for Garreth's fans: Imagine him spoonfeeding you with his new concoction

When I saw him taking a spoon out of his pocket I cackled so loudly that I startled my dog

[ladytudorrose]

As someone who’s worked on event production, most of these cases are inexperienced people who got in way over their head. Obviously there are some cases (like the Willy Wonka one with AI promo images) where there’s an element of scamming involved, but more often than not it’s a well-intentioned amateur who thought they knew what they were doing. If the intention was to scam people these folks are even worse at scamming then they are at event planning. First time cons are usually a massive money pit.

If you’re someone who’s attended a lot of cons or similar events or regularly been a vendor or panelist, it’s easy to get the idea that you could put one on yourself. Maybe you planned your wedding or helped organize your high school reunion. You start thinking: how much harder could organizing a con be?

The answer is it’s a lot harder. Some of the issues in this case seem like classic rookie mistakes.

-It’s really difficult to project attendance for a first time event. Most people want to see what the venue is before purchasing a ticket so there’s a lot of guessing involved. The organizer probably made an overly optimistic guess based on attendance at a more established, professionally organized event they’d attended in the past. This caused them to book an overly large venue they struggled to afford, leaving less money for other expenses. And of course the vendors are pissed because they were told these same wrong attendance estimates. But even at a good event the vendors who didn’t sell enough to cover their costs will have complaints.

-Most of these types of first-time events are self-funded by the organizers or by a small group of investors connected to them. That usually means there's no extra money to cover things that weren't budgeted for. And an inexperienced organizer is very, very likely to have wildly miscalculated that budget in the first place.

-The lack of badges and signs might be because they went with a cheap, out-of-state (or possibly even foreign) online printer and the order was horribly botched or failed to arrive on time. Or even if it was one of the more reputable online printers, the order might've been put in too late or the package was delayed in shipping. Experienced organizers will go with reputable local printers, where you can see your mock-ups ahead of time, more easily make last minute changers, and not worry about shipping as a factor, or if they do order things from out-of-state they go with the most reputable (not the cheapest) company and put in their order as far in advance as they possibly can. But if you’re already over budget and dependent on advance ticket sales to cover costs you’re almost guaranteed to be ordering from the cheapest place at the last minute. Or who knows maybe they were too broke to put in their printing order at all.

-When people book large, ugly convention centers as venues they often do it after seeing photos of the venue heavily decorated. There's a similar type of venue in my area and sometimes rich people will book it as a wedding venue because it's the only place that can hold a large number of guests. Those rich people will then spend $100k on decorations to make the venue look like the inside of a palace, with rugs, tapestries, and furniture covering the barren floors and walls. The convention center owners will eagerly use those people's photos to promote their venue. As an inexperienced organizer, you might be fooled by the potential shown in those photos without understanding how much that shit actually costs. You might even think you and your friends will be able to DIY a similar effect. Decoration is also often an area that organizers will budget for last, figuring they’ll decide on how much decor they need based on how much everything else ends up costing or how many vendor spaces or advance tickets they sell. In this case they probably had very little time, money, and staff to allocate for decor. They might have even purchased items that no one ever got around to putting up. Oftentimes inexperienced event planners will assume the venue or hired vendors will do a larger portion of the set-up than what’s reasonable to expect as well.

-Beyond these obvious issues that were covered in the article, there are so many things related to event planning that can only be learned by experience. Many of these things relate to how much money things cost and how many people you’ll need, but also they relate to contingencies you need to be prepared for. Something always goes wrong. Sometimes it’s several things all going wrong at once. If you have no experience and haven’t been trained by someone who does, you’re not going to know what to anticipate and how to handle little issues before they turn into massive problems. It’s no different from the people on Kitchen Nightmares who put their life savings into a restaurant despite never having even worked at one, much less ran one. The only difference is for an event the stars have to align perfectly for a single day/weekend; you can’t trial and error your way out of your incompetence. Your whole event is opening night.

Upon arrival, however, several attendees who spoke to NBC News said the only decorations in the room were pink flower petals lined along the tables. In lieu of the planned DJ, one small portable speaker played music from someone’s phone. The promised “content creation room” was just an empty room. Badges and swag bags were mysteriously lost. And due to an absence of chairs and tables, some panel speakers and audience members found themselves sitting on the floor.

Several attendees said Willows told them that 500 to 600 tickets had been sold. The exact number of attendees is unclear; those who spoke to NBC News estimated less than 100 people showed up, leaving many authors — who had to order books in bulk and pay fees for tables to sell them at — eating their losses and scrambling to ship their unsold books back home.

When reached for comment, a spokesperson for the Baltimore Convention Center directed NBC News to a social media exchange between an attendee and the venue’s director of sales, Krystine Bussiere, in response to accusations that the convention center was responsible for losing event supplies such as swag bags and snacks.

“I can tell you that we didn’t receive information from the event organizer about missing boxes from the event,” Bussiere wrote in an email. “I checked in multiple times with show management and heard nothing but positive comments about how things were going on-site.”

I’m always mystified by the organizer’s side of this kind of debacle—someone attempting to make money from an event so shitty that you can’t even imagine how they thought they’d get away with it. This one was such a non-happening that it didn’t even rise to the level of shitty; the organizer’s refunding the tickets, so she’s gained nothing from it. Something happened here, but what?

[kingjain]

Alexander Hamilton Shirt,Funny History Teacher Shirt

More Than Just a Shirt:A Statement of Passion for History Are you tired of bland, generic t-shirts? Do you crave a way to express your love for history, especially the captivating story of Alexander Hamilton? This shirt isn't just a piece of clothing; it's a conversation starter, a badge of honor, a way to connect with fellow history enthusiasts. Imagine the looks you'll get when you wear this shirt to a history conference, a classroom, or even just a casual gathering with friends.It's a subtle yet powerful way to show your passion for the past, and a great way to spark engaging conversations about one of history's most fascinating figures. This shirt is more than just a piece of clothing. It's a symbol of your knowledge, your wit, and your appreciation for the stories that shape us. It's a conversation starter that can lead to engaging discussions, new friendships, and maybe even a deeper understanding of the past. Wearing this shirt isn't just about fashion; it's about making a statement. It's about showing the world that you're not just a history buff, but someone who understands the power of history to inform and inspire. This shirt is for the teachers who bring history to life in their classrooms, for the students who are passionate about learning, and for anyone who appreciates the power of a well-told story. It's for those who understand that history is more than just dates and names – it's a vibrant tapestry of human experience, woven together with threads of ambition, tragedy, love, and loss. So, if you're ready to stand out from the crowd, to show your love for history, and to spark meaningful conversations, this shirt is for you. It's more than just a piece of clothing; it's a symbol of your passion, your knowledge, and your connection to the past.

Get it here : Alexander Hamilton Shirt,Funny History Teacher Shirt

Home Page : tshirtslowprice.com

Related : https://kingjain.tumblr.com/post/722424311220142080/tinker-bell-white-pinstripe-baseball-jersey

[thriveinyour50sandbeyond]

Embracing the Changes

I know for me growing older has been some what easy and something I have never really thought about much. Birthdays go by and that number keeps growing and have never really bothered me much....well till I realized that I am going to be 60 soon and my son will be 40 and well, it seems like not long ago it seemed like people in their 60's, wow...that was soooo old! LOL

Well I am past that and again, feel like that is just a number that doesn't really go with how I feel. Now, mind you, my body seems to disagree with that more and more as days go on, but in my mind, I feel like I am still so young and it seems so crazy that all the sudden I am going to be this old! I found this list of things that us women can, have, and probably will go through, and thought maybe it would be helpful to some of you that are within these age groups and things that we will start to experience if you haven't began already. Through out time on this blog will dive into things that we can do to overcome the things that are changing in our minds and our bodies. I hope it helps! check it out!

1. The Dance of Hormones: Navigating the New Normal

In your 40s and older, and shoot some of us it can begin as early as in your 30's, hormonal shifts can feel like a gentle tide of change. Embrace them, for they herald a new era of wisdom and self-awareness. Learn about these fluctuations, understand your body's cues, and explore strategies to support your well-being.

2. The Canvas of Skin: Lines of Experience and Beauty

Every line etched upon your skin tells a story. They're marks of laughter, of battles won, and of a life well-lived. Embrace them as badges of honor, for they are a testament to your journey.

3. Mind Matters: Cultivating Mental Wellness

The mind, too, embarks on its own journey. As you grow older, prioritize mental wellness. Engage in practices like mindfulness, meditation, and cognitive exercises that nurture your mental faculties and keep your mind sharp.

4. The Power of Movement: Nourishing Your Body

Movement is medicine. Engage in activities that bring you joy, whether it's yoga for flexibility, strength training for resilience, or dancing to express yourself. Celebrate your body's ability to adapt and thrive.

5. Nourishment from Within: Embracing Nutritional Wisdom

Food is not just sustenance; it's a source of vitality and nourishment. Explore wholesome, nutrient-dense choices that support your body's changing needs. Savor the flavors of each season and let food be a source of joy.

6. Unearthing New Passions: The Adventure Continues

Your 40s and beyond are an invitation to explore uncharted territories. Discover new hobbies, reignite forgotten passions, and relish in the joy of learning. Embrace the thrill of trying something new and relish the sense of accomplishment that follows.

7. Wisdom in Every Breath: Cultivating Inner Peace

With age comes wisdom, and with wisdom comes inner peace. Engage in practices that ground you - whether it's through mindfulness, journaling, or simply taking a moment to breathe deeply and be present.

Our lives are like a painting...a masterpiece, so to speak, always in progress. Like a canvas painted with the colors of experience and the brushstrokes of resilience. Embrace your changes, for they are the hues that make your story uniquely yours. Celebrate the strength that comes with age, and know that you are a living testament to the beauty of growth. Your 40s, 50s and beyond are a tapestry of strength, wisdom, and immeasurable grace. Embrace them, for they are yours to cherish. 🌟💪🌸

[fruit-of-infidelity]

Happy Birthday, Ryuuto~!

「 CLICK FOR BETTER QUALITY. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST OR USE WITHOUT MY PERMISSION. 」

[redigitur]

How it brightens his chest, to see her so unafraid. His Madonna, wind-tossed, cast-away, in a strange steep place, littered with the bones of centuries past, remains certain. Not a memory to cling to, no facts to build on. Only her feeling. Only her body that remembers what he has so eagerly impressed upon her, that knows the ardor with which he's knitted their instinctive thirsts together. He draws near and her spine arches. He breathes against the pale sickle moon of her shoulder, and her heart tightens.

You don't remember, but you know.

He towers over the petite woman, wreathes her in shadow. It is in this dark, a dark that stems not from an absence of light but from its turned back, that she gleams fiercest. Every glint of her silhouette draws his eye. The shape of her mouth spells a century of longing. At last, she turns to him and reveals her marble-smooth face to him. Glittering thing that he's fished out of the dark and muddy puddle that is humankind, fit only for the furnace. But not her. Not his witch, his manic dancer.

There is a lurid shine to her, a selfishness that he drinks by the mouthful. He loves every compromise she doesn't accept, every line she doesn't know not to cross. She is not afraid. He could never love her as he does, if she were. So with fearlessness hanging from her neck like a yoke or a golden chain, she peers up at him. Her lithe fingers lift to his face and he holds still.

A man like him has no secrets. Nothing can be secret if no one is there to keep it from. Even Madonna has heard it all before. He's recited annals to her, the chronicles of kingdoms long turned to dust, drowned in the Abyss, or ground to gore beneath his heel. But what use is this to her? He's told her the truth every time she asked, and it never meant a thing. It faded from her mind, slipped away like a furtive animal, the moment he slipped back into oblivion. It is an endless upward struggle, pushing this pointless bolder up the pointless mountain. But one is shackled to all things that require repetition. Maybe this time, he'll say. Maybe this time.

At her behest, again, his hood slips back from his face. What does it reveal? What divine features shine back at Madonna so that she may read his eyes and know him true?

He does not know.

His eyes might be dark, or the light that gathers in his gaze is all his own, roaring eons of bloodshed and glorious sunlight back at her. His mouth, is it cruel? Does the slant of it evoke caution, the instinct a deer might feel before the hunter? Or is it familiar, warm to her? Do the scars that litter his body spell out a history of failure for her to decode? Or are these badges of honor, soaked in the fervor of victory?

He does not know.

His hair is long, that much she can see. It is dark, spilling over his shoulders, and framing an angular jaw, a stern profile. He looks as if he'd been made to be chiseled into marble, cast in bronze. But the face itself, the details of his features, the color of his eyes, it all disappears in a furious confusion. As if someone ha taken a torch to a tapestry, and burned him out.

"All you see is yours to take," he says, a harsh voice rolling over in amused defeat. He makes no pretense of restraint. He's got not the patience for such play pretend. Whether she recalls him or no, he barrels onward. Subtle as a battering ram, him. "But there is more I wish to show you, my heart."

By gaze alone she feels the goosebumps on her flesh rising.  By sound of voice?  He may as well have reached inside of her,  threading ancient fingers through flesh,  fat,  muscle.  Stone hands gripping at the swell of her waist as if they had been born that way.  You wished it.  His voice comes heavy as silver,  weighted as gold  —gasp in her chest returning,  breaking past her lips and into the night sky.  Thick lashes flutter.  His voice is disorienting enough  —but what he tells her?  Inconceivable,  incomprehensible  —

Because she cannot remember.  By that fact alone,  she might agonize  —labor over the burden of recollection,  the awful invasion of being charmed so deeply that ones memory grows faulty,  full of holes.  She might have argued.  Insisted that he tries to confuse her with lies.  She might have thrown her weight down,  shrieking,  she might have accused him of treachery.  She might have.  In truth,  she has done all of this before and more.  There was nothing stopping her from responding in this way again.  It wasn't as if she could remember. 

But he is close.  Closer yet.  Has he been at her side all this while?  He is close,  inciting a dizzying squeeze of her organs,  a surge of blood behind her eyes.  She is not afraid.  She knows what fear is,  and it is not here.  It's only him.  Hot animal breath breathing at the delicate shell of her ear.  The weight of his presence undeniable,  even as she avoids his gaze,  she cannot avoid the feeling incited whenever he speaks to her.  She hears his words that follow like a tender hand slipping between her thighs.  She shivers against the burning in her eyes.  Her heart is much like that leather war drum.  She can feel the ancient stone trembling beneath her feet.  It would seem that she has asked to be taken to a ruin so far detached from her own world.  It would seem that she was here by her own volition.

He is a demon or he is a God.  The witch has not decided yet.  She thinks she must look at him.  Madonna thinks,  she wants so badly to look at him.

❛  ... I remember nothing.  ❛   Her voice is softer,  but no less decisive.  Gleam of her dark head beneath the fat moon lifts as her hands push her away from the column.  A beat passes,  before the pale loveliness of her face peers over her shoulder  —revealing a soft-drawn profile,  the upturn of a pixie's nose  —the full pout of a mouth never quite satisfied.  A single black eye glimmers,  bejeweled,  past her curtain of dark hair. 

She looks at him and her dark eyes instantly burn,  blinded  —as if she had been staring into a strange sun for too long.  Dark light breaks her vision apart.  For he is breathtaking  —dizzying,  drawing an animal sound from her parted lips.  He is beautiful.  He is glorious.  He is stolen light and the pound of her war-drum heart beating itself into her chest.  But all the same,  she struggles to look at him  —to see him,  to turn about fully to regard that perfect face that she is not permitted to look upon.  An ill-lit Eros with a face of shadows.  She  —Psyche,  blind,  wanting,  in her bed. 

He is a God.  He must be.  There is no other explanation.

❛  My only desire now is to look upon your face.  ❛   Her words are breathless now.  Pale hands drawn,  upward,  reaching.  She might touch his cheek,  remove his hood,  if he wills it.   ❛  Show me.  ❛

[tarotchariotpickyourcard]

PICK A CARD: What colour is your guardian angel represented with, and why

Welcome once again, wonderful internet travellers.

I'm just here, nipping into your day, towing the angels into your life a quick mo. I don't know, just thought we would drop by. Hi.

As personally, I am a big fan (omg is that Archangel Michael?! Eeeee) of angels and love to work with them, I would love to potentially help create a bit of a moment for you and your guardian angel, as I believe we all have one with us.

Now, about the colour option. It's not going to be specific - it's going to dedicate a main colour, but it could be a different hue of it (for example, light blue) depending. It might be discovered more within the reading.

Anyway. On to the fun bit.

Firstly, of course we are wanting to get comfortable for a minute and have a bit of quiet if possible. So, take a few deep breaths and close your eyes if it's safe for you to do. Next, either visualise a number, or maybe yourself picking up the item, or see what draws your eye. There are many different ways to choose.

From left to right, 1 - 4:

Space cup - Peacock - Plant - WooHoo badge

-------------------------------------------------------------------

-----------------------------------------------------------------

-------------------------------------------------------------------

GROUP 1: SPACE CUP

Your guardian angel had a lot to say, you got the most cards out of the bunch, let me tell you that. It might mean they're quite chatty, and if you communicate with angels some way, then you might get a lot compared to other people.

GUARDIAN ANGEL COLOUR:

INDIGO

WHY THIS COLOUR?:

The indigo representation is something that connects with spirituality, and the weaving of life. This can be connected to the third eye, and this guardian angel might be working with you to strengthen and use it. This could also mean they support your use of clairvoyance. You might find that you daydream a lot or have visualisations, and this guardian angel might come to you in the form of images whether in dreams, art, during meditation etc. Maybe you actually do something creative, and they love to support you in that.

This guardian angel might show a focus on the expression of emotion through action. The card shows me their support of you to use emotions wisely, sit upon them and not sink. To create a point of view from them, but still be observant and witness life in your own unique way.

They work to help see the beauty in yourself, and in life. Where you view yourself (again with seeing) as imperfect, they view it as special personalisation of the being you are. They work to help you see the tapestry of life and your place within it.

Indigo to me personally, shows the workings of intuition, inner reflection, gaining a more spiritual vantage point of what happens in life as well as working wisely with the inner emotional world.

The owl again shows wisdom, and their tireless support and endeavour to get you to a higher vantage point not only in circumstance, but to view events and life in a more curious, adventurous way. Not to view things as simply "good", or "bad".

They work to communicate through the tough times to help you see more calmly and rationally so that you can overcome your more self sabotaging habits or behaviours. Very savvy energy.

They could also express colours of green around them with indigo, or a deeper purple hue.

A LITTLE MESSAGE FROM YOUR GUARDIAN ANGEL:

Discard any fears of success, and be willing to offer more than is expected of you.

The combination for this little message tells me you are either very creative, or you have what you consider a big goal in the way that it might intimidate you. Good. I get a very flat out "good". Your guardian angel wants you to acknowledge that the idea of doing something might be scary, because that means it hints to something outside of your comfort zone - in other words, adventure.

7 of cups is an idea, or planning card, but it can get to a point where truthfully? It can become procrastination. It's all well and good to talk about something, whether it's ideas or even expressing you can't do it because x y or z. But your guardian angel here seems to be extremely encouraging of you to go for things right now. It's time to stop thinking so much, because you might just think yourself into a hole stood there for so long!

Get excited, go for what it is you want. You are capable of more than you think.

I hope you enjoyed!

----------------------------------------------------------------

----------------------------------------------------------------

GROUP 2: PEACOCK

Very simple and straight forward energy is what I get from your guardian angel. No frills, here.

GUARDIAN ANGEL COLOUR:

RED

WHY THIS COLOUR?

So, red is the base colour, however if you sense their colour representation it may vary from light red to even burgundy.

Page of cups for the why, is so interesting, because there are blues and purples in this card.

Oooooo. Oh, what a good feeling.

They simplify things. Your guardian angel is one to strip away the whys, ifs, buts or maybes. Their strength, why they represent as red is due to focus.

The vibe I get, looking at this card is akin to seeing someone hone in and meditate before a big event. Think a soldier before battle - think a boxer before going into the ring. I don't know if you play sports or have been active in fitness like that in the past, but if you wanted to, your guardian angel would be amazing support for the dedication and groundedness that it would require.

Regardless of physical fitness specifically (although if you wanted to gain better health, this guardian angel is amazing with that too), the traits that this colour reflects are those such as dedication, stability, resilience.

Your guardian angel might be a bit of a stickler for duty. If you need to do an obligation, you might get hints from them consistently. You'll get reminders often, I feel like you wouldn't get let off the hook if it was something important for you or your health.

This guardian angel is great for getting someone out of their head. It's choosing to look past emotions, dealing with high pressure situations or to push through and make something happen. I'm wondering if you are great in a crisis, or you seem to have gotten better at handling that kind of thing.

I hear "That's it now".

I just want to end this segment by saying your guardian angel is there for you to help reach all the goals, to meet all the needs. I would use the word cool.

A LITTLE MESSAGE FROM YOUR GUARDIAN ANGEL:

Forget what has already been and wake up tomorrow to a paradise of your own creation.

The woman on the card appears to have awoken, rejuvenated in a new morning. I feel like the message is, let the day be a new one. You can always begin again, right this moment.

I also get the feeling they are embracing you with more energy to be able to accomplish things in life.

And I got the thought of having ants in your pants (lol), so I believe they may be trying to get you moving. It's like having a coach. They want you to feel positive and renewed, and it seems the way they see it happening is by getting some momentum going in your situation or life, because I don't imagine a longer period of stagnation or quiet being your thing. Let them in to help cleanse you of older energy, so that you can awake again tomorrow feeling more fresh.

I hope you enjoyed this!

----------------------------------------------------------------

----------------------------------------------------------------

GROUP 3: PLANT

GUARDIAN ANGEL COLOUR:

SILVER

WHY THIS COLOUR?

Firstly, I got the thought of either silver or more of a shining/sparkling white. This could also be mixed in with other colours present in the cards.

Silver can mean elegance, sophistication and grace. They may communicate very politely, or only specifically when you adress them. They may have a graceful way of movement. When I think of the shining white light as well, it makes me think of purity as well as cleansing. Your guardian angel might specialise with bestowing the grace of God, so to speak. (I want to assure you I am not bringing a religious God into the conversation. When I say God, I tend to mean source, universe, spirit.)

Your guardian angel may help with forgiveness and grace regarding other people and the self. They are able to specifically work very very well with others guardian angels to ensure a happier and more fulfilling outcome if possible, and if free will dictates.

With the 2 of swords here too, they are great for helping to reach the heart of a matter, and even discuss more difficult topics with you yourself, but also helping you converse with others. Maybe you find it difficult to collaborate, or connect with others emotionally. However, this guardian angel here seems to be one that will always guide you to the truth that is in your heart, and to sharing your truth with others regardless of what they think.

At this current moment, they might be specifically guiding you to forgiveness. Forgiveness doesn't make it OK - it is simply for the purpose of peace within yourself.

This guardian angel is amazing at helping to see through illusion, and even the way a person can delude themselves, especially through fear. This angel might tend to remind you of the love that spirit has for you, to encourage you to fully accept yourself and your true feelings. This angel loves to help rise above the ego squabbles that we can get into, and discover what is really the priority for all in the situation.

If you don't see yourself as great with working with others, you're being taught to.

A LITTLE MESSAGE FROM YOUR GUARDIAN ANGEL:

We couldn't know paradise if flowers refused to release their fragrance. Give your gifts freely.

Here, I get the thought of "I don't wanna". Strange.

I believe here, that they are guiding you to connect with your feelings on a level that you might find safe. Maybe it is hard for you to talk to people, so instead you get your feelings out through playing an instrument, like in page of wands. There is a lot inside of these characters, that they are creating an output for. They do not want you holding on to whatever you are clutching right now, whether that's feelings, or fear.

This could even be a fear of presenting yourself with your talent or skill in front of even one other person. If that's the case, they would like you to just start small - maybe present yourself anonymously if possible.

They are also saying, there is no one, true, and only desirable image of life, or how you should be in any capacity. People have different skills, and ways of expression. This is a gift, to us all. So share your own unique vision. What is your truth?

I hope you enjoyed!

----------------------------------------------------------------------

---------------------------------------------------------------------

GROUP 4: WOOHOO BADGE

GUARDIAN ANGEL COLOUR:

YELLOW

WHY THIS COLOUR?:

Firstly, yellow can typically signify joy, childlike wonder, energy and friendship. This could mean that your guardian angel likes to enjoy things with you, likes to create fun opportunities for you and loves when you laugh.

Oooo, they love to weave magic and enjoyment into your hobbies, studies or work. They love to get the energy moving, and you may notice specifically when it comes to (oh, I got the word magnetic) the work side of things, there will be opportunities and synchronicities.

They might actually use spiders as a signal of hello. Or spiders might be special to you somehow.

This guardian angel (a bit like 2) is very good with enabling you guys with more energy to conquer obligations and anything you are juggling. This guardian angel specifically seems to be great with dealing with you when you get distracted, which is amusing. I get a very light energy here.

So there seems to be a balance of focus with your guardian angel, they like to create energy both for work and play. If you overwork or stress yourself, trust that your guardian angel will be nudging you or giving opportunities to have fun, and vice versa. I wonder if anyone in this group does yoga? I see a yoga move. Perhaps it would help you to be calm, yet still active. Perhaps that's an idea for good balance. Hey, maybe you want to improve your balance.

This guardian angel might show flecks of white, green and when helping you get things done, gold.

This guardian angel helps you to be sort of a chameleon - to adapt and adjust to life when necessary. What is best for you might be a different mix of activities or routine, depending on circumstance, and your guardian angel likes to help you understand that.

This is a very active angel, their focus is to ensure that there is always something there for you, no matter what route you go. This might also be reassurance that no matter what you choose to do, they will help tie loose ends and provide what you need.

They also like to focus on a sense of freedom, so if you have been feeling like going into the fresh air more, this might be them. If you suddenly get an inspirational feeling or remember the vastness of life, that is your angel reminding you.

A LITTLE MESSAGE FROM YOUR GUARDIAN ANGEL:

Let go of all limitations. You are creating a Goddess (or God) through living your life: Who are they?

Fragrant are the flowers that bloom when you smile and let go.

What did I say? Loves when you laugh.

These women on the cards look so peaceful and content with themselves. I think this is what your guardian angel wants for you.

They both note letting go - maybe you have been hard on yourself lately or pushing yourself. They may be wanting you to re-evaluate your priorities and see what you can leave totally, or leave for a period of time to replace with some rest.

Not only that, they seem to be encouraging you to envision your best life, and your desires. They will work tirelessly with you to make it happen, as long as it is for your highest good. For the most part, it's free will central. So let yourself decide where you're going, but let them help make it a wonderful journey ripe with beautiful possibilities.

Also, I'm seeing the idea of saying no to what takes a bit too much energy, for the sake of enjoyment as you deserve to really appreciate life, even the small moments.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

---------------------------------------------------------------------

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Well, that's everything for this reading. I really hope it resonated, and you enjoyed. I hope this maybe inspires you to try and talk with your angels or even just say thank you to them for all that they do for us!

Until the next reading!

[engie-ivy]

Remus is the uptight, swotty Prefect who's always getting the popular and beloved troublemakers Black and Potter in detention. Remus doesn't care what people say of him, and he absolutely doesn't care about Black's blinding smile.

A Book By Its Cover

Remus pulls his jumper closer around himself against the draught in the large, empty halls. The corridor is dimly lit and he hears nothing but the sound of his own footsteps. Everything is quiet. Too quite.

A loud clang suddenly sounds from behind one of the tapestries. Remus almost smiles to himself. Bingo. In a swift motion, he pulls away the tapestry.

Startled, Black whirls around. He’s surrounded by what appear to be paint cans and rope. His shock only last a moment, though.

“Lupin!” He exclaims, a beaming smile appearing on his face. “What a pleasant surprise!”

Remus crosses his arms over his chest. He makes an effort to keep a firm expression on his face, to show he’s not affected by Black’s notorious, blinding smile, like everyone else is. “Only pleasant if you like detention. And as for a surprise, I am a Prefect. I am supposed to be here making my rounds. So what are you doing here?”

“Preparing a prank,” Black says simply.

Remus doesn’t know whether he should be insulted Black doesn’t seem to take his authority very seriously, or glad that he doesn’t insult his intelligence by coming up with an excuse.

“Right,” Remus says, before taking out his notebook and pen. “Out of bed after curfew and engaging in illegal activity,” he scribbles down. “And where’s Potter?”

“Aw, am I not enough for you, Lupin?” Black pouts.

“I figured you could use some company in detention,” Remus replies smoothly.

Black clicks his tongue. “So thoughtful.”

“If you’re here setting up some prank, then it’s a given Potter is setting up that prank somewhere else in the school as well. So, where is he?”

Black shakes his head. “For you’re own good, Lupin, you don’t wanna put James in detention right now. People won’t be too pleased with you if the school’s football star misses the upcoming match against Slytherin thanks to you.”

“So thoughtful,” Remus repeats Black’s words, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “But please, don’t concern yourself over me. I’ve never cared what others think of me, and I don’t plan on starting now. And you basically just admitted Potter is currently doing something that would warrant me giving him detention, so you might as well tell me where he is.”

Black sighs. “This is why people call you uptight.”

Remus’ expression hardens. “If people care so much, they should be mad at Potter for risking the football match in the first place by playing some stupid prank.”

Black gasps dramatically and clutches his chest. “Stupid? Our pranks are not stupid! They’re works of art! Jumping out of a cake on miss McGonagall’s birthday? Hilarious! Making a zip line to go from one floor to the other? Brilliant! Filling the gym with stray cats, many of whom were eventually adopted? Genius! People love our pranks. They make people laugh and bring some excitement in their lives. Much needed excitement, because let’s face it, school is boring. Sitting there, listening to old people tell you things you already know.”

“For you maybe,” Remus mutters.

Black scoffs. “Don’t pretend you’re not one of the smartest people in our class, Lupin.”

Remus just glares harder at Black, to show that no, he doesn’t care that Sirius Black, whom people are always falling over themselves for to get even a bit of his attention, has apparently noticed Remus’ academic achievements. No, he doesn’t care at all.

“Even the teachers love our pranks,” Black continues. “They put some life into this place!”

“We’ll see what miss McGonagall has to say about it when I report you tomorrow,” Remus says calmly. “I’ll go finish my rounds, and when I get back, you better have cleaned up this mess.”

As he turns around to leave, Black suddenly grabs his wrist. “Join us!”

“Wha...” Remus turns back, and his traitorous stomach flutters at how close Black is suddenly standing.

“Join us for one prank,” Black says.

Remus blinks at him. “Why in earth would I do that?”

“Because it’s fun! And honestly, Lupin, to me you always look like you can use a bit of fun.”

That catches Remus off guard. It’s true. Between struggling to get top marks, doing everything he can for extra credit, making sure he has a spotless record, excelling at his Prefect duties, and worrying about his sick mother, lately he often feels like just throwing his hands in the air and say ‘screw it all!’, and just do something crazy, something dumb or irresponsible. But he definitely never wanted for Black to notice that.

“Come on, Lupin,” Black says, as Remus stays silent. “Be part of the fun for once, instead of putting a damper on it.”

“Your childish pranks aren’t my idea of fun,” Remus bites back, feeling himself getting defensive.

Black just grins. “You won’t know that unless you join us for just one prank!”

“Why would you even want me to join you?” Many people would be lining up to be a part of one of Black and Potter’s infamous pranks. It’s beyond Remus why Black would ask that one stuffy guy who puts them in detention almost every week.

“Because I like you,” Black shrugs. “I like how hard you work for everything and how you don’t care what anyone thinks of you. And I think you secretly have a talent for it,” he adds with a wink, that absolutely does not make Remus’ knees go weak. “I bet you have a wicked side to you underneath all that swotty stuff.”

“But I’m a Prefect!” Remus argues. “I’m supposed to discipline rule-breakers, not break them myself!”

Black rolls his eyes. “You shouldn’t take that job so serious.”

This rubs Remus the wrong way. “Not everyone can afford to treat everything in life as a joke,” he says coolly.

Black folds his arms over his chest and stares. “A fancy title and a badge and suddenly you’re better than us?”

“It’s nothing like that!”

Black huffs. “Then why is that bogus job so important to you?”

“Because some of us can’t afford to have even one note on their record if they ever want to get anywhere in life!” Remus snaps. “Because some of us need perfect scores and every bit of extra credit they can get if they want universities not to immediately bin their applications! Because some of us don’t have a last name they can flaunt, a daddy who can make a phone call, a mommy who can throw some money around, and suddenly you’re top of the list! Because some of us can’t just look at their rich parents and rely on them to always give them everything they want!”

The change in Black is instant. He takes a step back, and instead of his usual easy smile and bright eyes sparkling with mischief, his face becomes an ice-cold mask. “Fuck you, Lupin,” he hisses. “You don’t know a thing about me.”

He pushes past Remus as he storms off, leaving him behind feeling very confused. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. Yes, the system is unfair and Black is privileged, but Remus supposes that isn’t really Black’s fault. He knows Black isn’t actually a bad person. His heart is in the right place, and he’s usually kind, only ever mean to people who, quite frankly, deserve it.

Remus just wishes Black would stop with those bloody pranks.

Remus just wishes Black would continue with those bloody pranks.

Or do anything really that makes him seem more like his old self. Remus never thought he’d miss that loud, barking laugh, that infuriating smirk, those lame puns so much.

Ever since everyone returned from Christmas break, Black has completely withdrawn. He hardly talks to anyone, he just sits silently, his eyes staring off in the distance and his expression blank. Potter is always by his side, softly talking to him or just throwing him worried glances.

Since then, it has been the talk of the school, and even in the papers and on the news: Sirius Black has been removed from his parents’ custody. It was a messy affair, the police has even been involved. Black’s father was arrested on grounds of child abuse. Apparently, Orion Black, the noble and well-respected patriarch of the prestigious Black family, has a habit of beating his son. It must’ve been going on for a while, but over the break it escalated. People just can’t get over how Sirius Black’s life wasn’t as perfect as it always seemed to be.

Remus feels bad for Black, and especially feels like an idiot, having said the things he said. He knows he owes Black an apology. It has been a couple of weeks since the break ended, and the apology is beginning to be long overdue. Though he also knows that Black has probably not been waiting for an apology from the uptight twat that always gets him detention.

Maybe it’s more to ease his own consciousness that he hesitantly approaches the table where Black is sitting. Potter glares at him the moment he sees him, and half gets out of his seat, probably to tell him to piss off, and rightfully so. However, after a quick glance at Black’s face, who’s looking up at Remus, he sits back down, as if he sees something on his friend’s face that makes him chance his mind.

“Bla- Sirius,” Remus says, realising a tad late that Sirius might nor want to be reminded of his family name right now. “I’m sorry,” he blurts out. “I said some shitty things to you, and I shouldn’t have. You were right, I didn’t know anything about you.”

“It’s okay,” Sirius says softly. “You had good reason to be angry, it’s a rather fucked up system. And you didn’t know. Didn’t know that I would’ve gladly given up all that privilege to just have parents who... who love me...”

Sirius’ voice falters and he trails off. Potter is staring at him wide-eyed, and also Remus is surprised. He knows Sirius hasn’t talked about it to anyone, and he feels almost guilty he’s saying it to him of all people. He’s also surprised at the overwhelming urge he has to pull Sirius into a hug, hold him and tell him they never deserved him anyway. He has to leave before he does anything stupid.

“I should go,” Remus says quickly. “If there’s ever anything I can do...”

As he turns around to leave, Black suddenly grabs his wrist. “Join us!”

Remus turns back to look at him.

“Join us for one prank.”

“Why would you want me to join you?” Remus asks, much like the first time.

“Because I like you,” Sirius replies, much like the first time, only where he had then sounded nonchalant and slightly amused, he now sounds pleading and vulnerable.

“Yeah,” Remus says hoarsely, because his Prefect duties suddenly don’t seem so important compared to helping Sirius come back to his old self. “Yeah, I’ll join you for one prank.”

And then the most amazing thing happens: for the first time in weeks, Sirius Black smiles. It’s only a small smile, but the room already seems a bit brighter. In a moment of vivid clarity, Remus knows that there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to make that boy smile.

[worldcatlas]

SNW: Strange New Worlds

Spoiler warning: there will be some.

Following the events of Discovery season 2, Captain Pike heads back to the Enterprise for his own spin-off. We start with a cute little scene of an alien species making first contact, wearing sharp-looking military uniforms with awesome light-up lapels.

My rank is aquamarine and you will address me as such.

As the scene changes, we get a glimpse of some really classic costumes from The Day the Earth Stood Still – apparently one of Captain Pike’s favourites, as he’s watching it while making pancakes and contemplating the horrifying nature of his own doomed existence in an immutable tapestry of fate.

…The movie helps.

Yes, still reeling from having witnessed his own gruesome future, Chris has retreated to his cabin in Montana and adopted the aesthetic of “comfy dad.”

The beard has some potential, though.

Then, without any warning, he cleans up and gets on a horse in a snowstorm, looking like this:

Okay, yes, I’m team beard. 100%.

The viewer suddenly remembers they are writing a blog about fashion, and remembers to pay attention just in time for Admiral April to show up in a shuttle and Starfleet’s latest winter line, complete with gloves and an extra-long jacket.

It’s nice, but I prefer the winter 2154 men’s collection.

They argue about whose jacket is cooler.

Look at this thing. I look amazing.

I think it’s mostly the horse.

Finally, they agree both jackets are good, and Pike will return to the Enterprise. Meanwhile, Spock is on a date.

I love how Vulcan formalwear is so… pointy.

With all the tact of a wild sehlat, Spock comments on how T’Pring is wearing “ritual mating colours,” though it’s hard to tell what those are with how orange everything is on Vulcan. Or maybe the mating colour is orange. That would be convenient.

I’ll bet he hasn’t even noticed her double-decker bun.

Despite the bluntness of Spock’s observation, it IS a great look, with sparkly fabric and interesting cutouts on both the front and back. T’Pring is also a master of accessorizing, and wears swirly gold earrings and a matching gold ring in the shape of a sun.

There’s another accessory inside the box, but it’s probably not important.

Somehow, being an oblivious dingus doesn’t prevent our boy from getting intimate with his new fiancée, and we get to see what Vulcan lingerie looks like! Unlike its lacy human counterpart, Vulcan “date underwear” appears to be geometric and metallic. On the other hand, the sheer cover-up that covers nothing is a well-known garment in human apparel.

I’m not sure I see the logic in this piece of clothing.

Aboard the Enterprise, we are greeted by transporter chief Kyle, who is actually surprisingly well-established in canon and not just some guy named Kyle, which I definitely didn’t assume for a very long time. *cough* 

His uniform is an interesting style, and the colour blocking feels a bit reminiscent of 90s Trek uniforms. He wears a shiny metal badge with his department insignia, similar to the ones we saw in Discovery, in contrast to the simple metallic patches sewn onto the uniforms in TOS.

Friggin’ Kyle.

Most of the bridge crew, on the other hand, wear the solid colour TOS-style uniforms. Right away, we can see they’ve been updated with modern, almost athleticwear fabrics, and have a more severe v-neck.

Spock approves of severity in one’s appearance.

Notably, the rank bands at the cuffs are now coloured to match the uniform, not just standard gold across the board.

Another neat feature is that the upper shoulder/top of sleeve part of these uniforms has a tiny pattern matching the wearer’s department. These symbols are the same as those on their badges, in most cases.

Starburst pattern indicates command.

Spiral pattern indicates operations. Withering glare indicates disdain.

Later, in sick bay, we are introduced to two more legacy TOS characters, Dr. M’Benga and Nurse Chapel. Now, before I get to Nurse Chapel and lose my ability to form cohesive thoughts, let’s look at the good Doctor’s outfit.

The look of a man who’s about to get more lines than the original character ever did.

It’s a lighter blue than other sciences uniforms we’ve seen, closer to the shade used for all medical and science crew in the original series. It also features an interesting front closure, and appears to have a pattern of medical crosses on top of the sleeves/shoulders.

Look, if there’s one guy on the ship who outranks the captain, he gets a special uniform.

Nurse Chapel, on the other hand, gets this absolutely killer white jumpsuit, featuring the same silver bands at the wrist, a zipper down the front, and pockets(!). This is, by far, my favourite uniform variant in Strange New Worlds, and it couldn’t be worn by a better character.

Oh my god she’s so cool. Is she looking this way?

You can also see the same pattern of medical crosses… on the uh…

oh my god I think she looked at me 

I would be sick every day of my life on this starship.

Our guys need to go down to the planet, which means it’s time for disguises! Pike gets a slick black suit, chief of security La’an gets a gorgeous copper jacket, and Spock gets a military-style uniform.

With little shorts.

*chef’s kiss*

I want to focus on La’an’s outfit, which we get to see a little more of as she executes a quick-thinking plan. I love the burgundy tights matching the dress, and of course I’m a fan of the metallic fabric studded with something shiny and metal at the lapels.

I’m a simple Trekkie. Sparkly = good.

So it’s a bit of a shame when they mercilessly beat up a bunch of doctors and steal* their clothes. I do enjoy the construction of these outfits, though, with the high collar and flap closure.

*Okay, they didn’t steal their clothes, they had the ship create replicas of their clothes and beam them down. But that kinda just seems like sci-fi hand-waving because they didn’t want to explain finding three perfectly tailored uniforms. Or have La’an beat up enough doctors to find clothes that fit.

She would, though.

We get a great shot of the full coat, as well as Uhura’s skant, when one of the aliens gets loose aboard Enterprise and they become friends in a turbolift. Note Uhura’s unique rectangular badge, as well.

First time riding the elevator in an alien spaceship?

We also get to see the aliens’ security uniforms in a gorgeous dark teal, complemented by brass-adorned holsters and little tie shields, which are apparently a thing here. I guess neckties are universal, though.

Just like many species develop two arms and eyes, many evolve the half windsor naturally.

The alien president is on top of her brand as well, with an absolutely fierce suit dress in merlot.

That’s ready to go right on the propaganda!

She even comes back in a later scene with a different outfit in the same colour, which tells me this is for sure a woman who has her shit together enough to run a planet.

I can’t even get my socks to match this well.

Before we close out the episode, Admiral April returns with a new jacket, which Pike has to admit is very good.

The badge even has laurels. Okay, you win.

I’m starting to suspect these new-Trek articles are going to be slightly longer.

[namjoonchronicles]

worst | hs

↳ genre fluff, domestic, established relationship

↳ words 1.9k

↳ summary To think that the world has conspired for you to love Hoseok is highly unlikely, but everything is possible with a little faith.

↳ song pink sweat$ ‘at my worst’

↳ author’s note the 7-day writing challenge is 4/7 done, I had much fun with this one and I toyed around a concept I have been trying to write better off. Enjoy <3

I need somebody who can love me at my worst. No, I’m not perfect but I hope you see my worth.

.

.

Soulmate. The concept is mesmerizing. To think that there’s such a person for each and everyone, that one person that was created by the universe specifically for you. From the time that they were born, down to the events that happened which led them to you, they are all orchestrated in order for you to meet. You always thought that those who eventually found their soulmate are the luckiest person in the world. Like you said, the concept is mesmerizing. To think that the stars in the sky, conspired for Hoseok to happen. How he is a gift to your dull life. 

Even as he is jumping on the couch and walking towards one end to the other when his feet were vacuumed by the robot vacuums that he himself bought. You wiped your face down. “I get it now, why you said it was scary, I get it now,” Hoseok yelped. You puffed your cheeks at him. You’re pointing the remote at the screen, swiping on the Netflix, before you paused to look at him. He was sitting beside you, hiding his face behind the striped cushion. “Are you sure you want to watch this with me? You’re absolutely sure?” your brows knitted as you grew doubtful. There’s a number of movies on your watch list but you had been wanting to watch Alice in Borderline since you heard about it. It stirred your interest, knowing that your friends have a knack of watching good movies. Your husband must have watched the thriller without you because he looks traumatized. You feel sorry for him and tell him again that he doesn’t have to do this with you if he doesn’t want to. “What do you want me to do? Sleep in the room alone while you watch it here?? That’s even more scary, sleeping alone…” he pouted. Voice muffled, hugging the cushion like his life depends on it. “I’m strong…” he said, enthusiastically. Before he tracts back into the cushion, putting on his defensive mode. You laced your fingers with him and leaned your head on his shoulders. He jumps at every scare, and hurls the cushions he could get his hands on, then screams his head off when the jump scares arrives. You’re so different from him. He doesn’t really like coffee and only drinks them when he needs to. He would walk into the room and be friends with everyone just by smiling. And in communication, he would much rather speaking out front on what he wants. He is excellent at reading the room but unlike you, he doesn’t dwell on the softer side and the easier way of solving things, instead, he focused on solving the problem and it didn’t matter what it looked to others. His goals are immaculate and crystal clear. He will fight hard for what he wants and even if he is shaken by the pernicious stage of it all, he will give it, his entirety. The way that he is fierceless, firm and throttling towards his goals are admirable. He might be pulling your PJs by the sleeves in an attempt to hide from the monster in the screen, sweating profusely and chanting your name; but this much is true, he would do anything for you. You remember it so clearly, these hands that hold you so tight, his wedding band shimmering in the dim light, was the same that rainy night. Those veins protruding, wet from the heavy rain, dripping down his chin and determination in his eyes--as he held the door open. Leather jacket, black shirt, black damaged jeans. His black Chelsea boots marched forward, had you cornered on the wall behind the door. Pinched your chin so gently, his lips ghosting over your cheek, to finally trail down on your lips. Strange it was that it wasn’t him that was shivering, it was you. He had his eyes fixated on the view of your Cupid’s bow. “Do I believe in forever, you say?” he smirked against you, “Of course no.” He clasped your lips with his own, exhaling hard through his nostril and moaning in your mouth while his hand ravages all over your body. He shifted his hand down your arms to the phone you’re holding and left them on the kitchen counter. “I don’t want to pretend anymore,” he growled. It’s really hard to string that Hoseok to this one. When he gestures for you to keep your arm around him so he sleeps better. When he pulls the chair you sat on so you could be closer. When he writes little love notes on every surface you touch. When he sends bouquets of flowers at work or at home. When he wanted a couple shoes that matched the couple shirts with the couple phone case. When he stole a spoon of your ice cream when you stole his. When he threw glances across the room at you and looked away smiling. Or when he insisted on driving you home that late night in September after a barbecue party when you looked like a mess and smelled like charcoal. When he dropped on one knee to tie up your shoelaces in the middle of the mall. When he spent his day searching for the laptops with you even when he doesn’t know much about technology and was texting Yoongi at every tech terms he had never heard of. It’s easy to dismiss the love you are poured with when you’re the one receiving. It’s easy to look over the details of the meticulous feeling one would carefully thread. Hoseok was, to put simply, a tapestry torn at the seams. His family was not supportive of his passion for dancing. He ran away at a young age to fight. On Christmas, he was asked why he didn’t return home and he swiftly walked away without answering. The answer was, he didn’t know where home actually was. A home was supposed to make you feel safe, to make you feel at ease, protected and loved for being yourself. His home was anything but that. He was at war with himself for the longest time. Left his emotion behind for as long as he knew. Filled with ambitions from early on, Hoseok had nothing to lose, or so he thought. You could not have interfered at the worst time. He danced till his body broke. The sores and bruises that covered his body, they were the badges he wore. As he lay motionless on the hospital bed, tears trailed down the tails of his eyes, staring helplessly on the ward’s ceiling from the pain he couldn’t speak of, he whispered, “I can’t do this anymore.” The loudest whisper you’ve heard him let out. “What are you saying, Hoseok?” you uncrossed your arm and sped to the side of his bed, fingers clawing on the edges, “Have you not seen yourself on stage? You’re the happiest on it… You forget everything else, even this pain.” You clasped Hoseok’s knuckle, looking hopeful into his eyes, “You were born to be on stage, you’re a performer, I refuse to let you feel like you’ve turned every stone. You haven’t. You mustn't give in… Pain is temporary.” Life is regret. Life is all about regretting the choices we didn’t make. Life is also about accepting the regret we feel from the same choices. And if it means to tell yourself over and over again, that this is good for you, one day, you might eventually believe them. For all that you care is if when the storm comes and swept everything you know away, it’s Hoseok’s hand you want to hold on to, it’s Hoseok’s eyes you want to get lost in and it’s his voice you want to live on for. Maybe that’s what soulmate is. Maybe soulmate is a person created by the universe specifically for you, for you to fight head on with, for you to nurture, for you to lose your mind at so they can put you back together. Maybe soulmate isn’t the perfect mirror of you, but a perfect contender for you. Maybe he is the one that showed you what exactly was wrong about you so you can be better. Maybe he is the one that calls you out on your mistakes so you could fix them. Maybe he is also the one who pulls you close when you’ve pushed him away. Maybe he is the one who wipes the tears he puts on you. Maybe he is the one that puts a smile on your face when the world is against you. Maybe he is the person who would fight the world for your hand. The concept of soulmate is again, mesmerizing. To know just how much the universe cared enough for you that they conspired to create a soul for you, from the beginning of time. They say their names are written on your palms when you were conceived. With these dazzling thoughts, you took Hoseok’s hand in yours, examining each line that crosses its path. “What is it?” He lets you, he himself munching on cereals. You zoomed into his palm more, tracing the lines. “They say, the name of the soulmate is written on the palms, I am trying to see if mine is on yours,” you monotonously explained. Hoseok stares at your head and slowly, but surely, a smile grows on his face. His cheeks rose and his ears turned red. He didn’t fight you off and even encouraged you on it. “Do you see it? Is it in english or kanji? Hangul?” He teased you. You dropped his hand when you realised that he was joking with you. He protests, “Why did you put them down? Keep holding on to my hand…” “I had a really good dream last night, but because you’re being mean to me, I am not going to tell you what it was…” you told him in a sing-song voice. He pesters you. Pouting and poking your sides relentlessly. You usually share with him your strangest of dreams. Sometimes they are the exact opposite of what happened. But the way he listened, and the face that he wore always encourages you. Hoseok listens with his whole body. “I dreamt of you in the kitchen. You have a baby draped over your shoulder and it was crying, and you were cooing it gently,” you told him. He paused for the longest time. He took one spoon of milk from the cereal and sip on them slowly. He lifts his face up, thinking and glancing over the clock on the wall and he said, with a serious face and tone, “Are you sure it wasn’t Mickey*?” .

.

.

. *Mickey refers to Hoseok’s Shih Tzu dog. 

.

Copyright © January 7th, 2021 namjoonchronicles do not repost, and thank you for reading! Likes, comments and reblogs are free!

[dopposhusband]

I got recommended a whole bunch of Persona 5 fan palace themes so I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Hypmic characters having palaces, so I thought I’d make a short list of who I think could/would have one.

Ichiro, I feel like his palace could be created at two points in his life, around the time his brothers still hated him, or when his brothers started to idolize him. He definitely is a good person at heart so I can’t see it growing from any malice intentions but rather just an inflated ego. I could see his palace being all of Ikebukuro but a distorted vision of it being his own stage, with his name and face plastered everywhere as their hero, everyone walks around cheering for him, waving glow sticks. There is no palace per say but rather intertwining streets turned into stages that lead to his home. His brothers would too fall victim to his distortion, turning them into loyal yes-men, his hype men, following him where ever he goes, reminding everyone that they should be lucky just to be in his presence.

Saburo, his palace would likely start to manifest around the time Rei came to reveal himself as their father. During this time he’d have to take a step back, Ichiro had lied to him, both of them about their father. Jiro could live, but I don’t think Saburo could, he doesn’t have much outside of Ichiro. Ichiro and Jiro are their own people, but Saburo is young and he hasn’t figured that part out for himself just yet, so I think he’d push everyone away, maybe be a lot more malicious with his hacking so he can force a name for himself. His palace would be a distorted illusion of his room, the place he feels most comfortable and safe. It would take on a futuristic, almost cheesy hacking style with a mix of more classic imagery such like pianos, organs, and sheet music. With intelligence being Saburos only saving grace it’s built like a puzzle, reliant on tons of trivia. Safe rooms would be Ichiro and Jiros own rooms. His treasure would be his mic, in a backroom filled with Ichiro and Buster Bros merchandise. Once his palace is defeated his treasure turns into a copy of Ichiro’s TDD era belt loop cord. 

Samatoki, I’ll be real I have no idea

Jyuto, once with humble beginnings Jyuto slowly started to compile blackmail and got involved involved with higher powers with his control over the police and even the yakuza. It would slowly get to his head before he eventually considered all of Yokohama under his own jurisdiction. A cop turned into a godlike judge that people offered everything they had to appease him from staining their name with whatever dirt he had found on them. His police station would turn into a temple with his likeness imprinted on tapestries and stained glass, a dictator of his own beliefs that his ideology is beyond the law. His treasure is hidden away in the temple’s evidence room as a huge binder of names and blackmail that turns into his badge upon returning to the real world.

Ramuda, an obvious choice I have no ideas for

Jakurai, again I can see two points where Jakurai could develop a palace, during his time as an assassin and his split with TDD. I’m pretty sure both would be drastically different, so Im mainly focusing on the idea of one based after TDD break up. Jakurai loves to involve himself with interesting people, which was his original reason for getting involved with Ramuda, however, we can also look at this from terrible angle, one where Jakurai drops people once they stop being interesting. After losing the people he considered friends, he took on more interesting patients, but he would contentiously drop them the moment he’d lose interest. His palace would distort his hospital into a showcase room, where his patients are shown off like dolls, trying their best to keep his interest out of fear of him throwing them away. At the end it leads to a giant stage and throne where he watches his patients in action and at his side are the distorted versions of Hifumi and Doppo, his current favorite subjects. They act as beyond over exaggerations of their typical personalities, Hifumi being literally two faced with him and Gigolo and Doppo cowering, constantly on edge. His palace would require a lot of outside interaction to get it to open up, maybe the time limit being until he loses interest in whoever they set as the dummy.

Hifumi, but specifically, Gigolo. A moment where he’s able to take over Hifumi almost entirely, jacket or not. His ego inflates quickly and he abandons Matenrou, specifically Doppo, so he can delve his entire life into his job and the Shinjuku night life. His club unsurprisingly changes into his own chateau, rooms filled with champagne towers and near blinding chandeliers. The women who loiter around the halls are also it’s defenders. His treasure is hidden in the master bedroom, a bottle of his very own champagne brand and transforms into his jacket outside of his palace.

Rei, I don’t care enough about Rei, most likely an open market where he’s free to scam as many people as he pleases.

[clansayeed]

Bound by Circumstance ― Chapter 13: What Was Given Can Be Taken Away

PAIRING: Nik Ryder x trans*M!MC (Taylor Hunter) RATING: Mature

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Circumstance ⥽

Taylor Hunter (MC) has made it good for himself in New Orleans; turns out moving to a new city fresh out of college to reinvent yourself isn’t as hard as people make it out to be. Things only start to get confusing when he finds himself the target of a malevolent wraith. Good thing someone’s looking out for him though — because without Nighthunter Nik Ryder as his bodyguard he definitely won’t survive long in the twisting darkness of the supernatural underworld he’s tripped into.

Bound by Circumstance and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the book Nightbound and the rest of the Bloodbound series. Find out more [HERE].

Note: Circumstance only loosely follows the events and plotline of Nightbound, and features a separate antagonist, different character motivations, and further worldbuilding.

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Circumstance/series tag list!

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

After her encounter with the bloodwraith leaves Lady Smoke without her cursed touch, Katherine sets out to organize a meeting with the only power in the city left uninterrogated: the Garden Coven. Taylor takes advantage of their time left hanging to finally visit Kristin’s hospital bed. There he finds a familiar face and finally gets an outsider’s perspective on the weirdness his life has become.

[READ IT ON AO3]

“No wonder you’re a dead name in this town, Ryder. Can’t even follow simple orders. Didn’t I tell you to keep Vera away from here?”

“Harsh, Tonya — harsh.”

Vera shoves the Nighthunter aside and almost falls on her knees at her mother’s bedside. Apparently the bad blood that parted them ran a little thinner than the blood they shared.

He recognizes that face — remembers a similar look in his mother’s eyes when she was watching him from his own hospital bedside. Kind of understands the way Tonya Reimonenq tries to look at anything but her daughter.

“As if I wasn’t gonna come see you?” Vera can’t help but sound a little frustrated; a little broken. Takes in the thin black spiderwebbing of her veins they’ve all become a little too familiar with at this point. “You’re lucky to be alive.”

“There’s nothin’ lucky about this, Vera.”

Her voice is thick with anger. It’s enough to pull her daughter out of her familial grief. Where she reaches up and Taylor helps her back to standing. Still she holds on to the railing of Tonya’s bed with a hard grip.

She looks her mother over head to toe. Flinches as she takes in the burn unit casts on her hands and forearms. The way her hair is no longer coiffed with a salt-and-pepper streak of refinement but now, instead, lays in disarray over the thin hospital pillows.

Just as her ID band says, the woman lying in bed is Tonya Reimonenq, nothing more and nothing less. Lady Smoke is no more than what her name implies — smoke on the wind.

Vera swallows down something else, maybe some fondness or affectionate word. Instead just lets her hand hover over the nearest cast-bound hand with hesitation.

“Kathy said you…” but the words get lost somewhere between her head and her mouth and she has to try again, “that the… the thing, it…”

Even when Tonya physically turns her head away there’s no hiding it. Not in the monitors that start to beep louder on the other side of her, not in the numbers that jump erratically. Not in the lights overhead — unflattering things to everyone, really — that illuminate the shame in her dark eyes.

“I can’t feel it anymore.”

“Feel what?”

“The connection, baby girl,” and there’s something a little manic in the way she looks at her daughter then, the way she reaches out but can’t touch, “the connection to our birthright. Always there and then…”

The words come out of Taylor unbidden; “Then gone like smoke.”

A tear falls down Tonya’s cheek. Dampens the pillowcase where it lands. Her vitals have slowed down now but the damage is done.

Expensive footsteps stop in the doorway brisk enough to turn their heads. To where a crisp and starched man fusses with a dark trench coat, practically wrenches it off of his shoulders and into the arms of an attendant passing in the hall.

His icy eyes land first on Tonya in bed and then sweep her guests — nothing short of critical, dismissive; borderline angry.

“Money can buy you a good room and unlimited care, Reimonenq, but it won’t buy you out of hospital rules.” He snaps, takes the white doctor’s coat from a different attendant as its given to him.

Along with it a laminated badge: DIAGNOSTIC STAFF, TULANE MEDICAL CENTER. With AUTHORIZED VISITOR on a bright red sticker beneath it.

The doctor pushes through them carelessly — is already fixated on the clipboard of Tonya’s information when he growls out “Anyone who isn’t family get the hell out of my sight before I call security,” and he definitely isn’t kidding.

“Good to see you again, Doctor Ramsey.”

He only looks up at his patient to see the condition of her arms and their bandages. “It isn’t a sentiment shared.”

Because they have no desire to stay and see what the doctor’s wrath looks like, since it sounds violent enough, Taylor and Nik make their way out. Stop only when Vera turns hot on their heels.

“You should stay with her — you know, never know what could happen.” Nik mutters under his breath. He’s so unaccustomed to showing concern that it sounds almost sarcastic for a moment. “I just mean —”

“I know what you mean. But I ain’t doin’ any good standin’ here.”

Taylor reaches and their hands meet between one another. He squeezes her gloves with the same concern and support as he had at the Shift.

“Nik’s right.”

But Vera is, at least on the surface, adamant. “No, Tay’. I’m useless in here. Out there I can—I mean we could—”

Neither of them miss the half-glance she nearly throws over her shoulder.

“Stay,” Taylor tries again; feels her resolve crumble just a little — it’s enough, “we’re not even going far. And if anything changes you’re the first call. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Taylor knows he has no right to try and mend the holes in the Reimonenq family tapestry. That’s not even what he’s trying to do if he’s honest. But underneath all that anger he can feel the threads of regret Vera is trying desperately to hide.

If something did happen she wouldn’t forgive herself. And that’s worse than feeling helpless.

When they finally find their way back to the front lobby (two wrong turns, five angry nurses, and a mentally scarring view of an old man’s ass later) Cal is sitting alone in one of the uncomfortable half-bench chairs. He’s pretending to be focused intently on the muted play of college football on the nearby mounted television — badly. Keeps looking over to where a father distracts his son from the noise and bustle around them with one of those outdated planks with colorful metal wires criss-crossing each other for simple beads to travel on.

Makes sense, though. The kid’s mop of messy dark hair could place him for a younger version of Cal’s brother, Donny.

“Hey, Kujo!” Ryder snaps to get the wolf’s attention — gets more than that when Cal’s upper lip curls like he’s baring fangs.

“You call me that one more time, Ryder, and I swear to god I’ll —”

“Enough, guys.” Taylor forces his way between them.

Ryder, however, is either entirely too used to threats by now or doesn’t find the werewolf to be much of a threat. Both aren’t very healthy reasons.

“Where’s Katherine?”

And yeah, where is Katherine? She’d been so insistent at the Shift to see Tonya’s condition for herself yet had been more than willing to hang back and make a call while Vera reunited with her mother.

Cal jerks his head towards the automated doors. “She dipped out.”

“Really, I hadn’t noticed,” luckily all it takes is a glare from Taylor to tone down his dangerous levels of sass, “you find out where she was goin’?”

“Naw, she —”

“She’s making arrangements for us to meet with the Garden Coven — ideally as soon as possible.”

Cadence arrives bearing the holy grail of all holy grails; hospital coffee. Makes balancing the three cups sans lids while swerving his way through a minefield of professionals, patients, and problematic persons downright easy. He hands each of them their caffeinated prizes while continuing; “Time is of the essence after all.”

A grim silence settles over the group. Just another time when, once again, there’s more going on than what’s being said and Taylor is left out of the loop. But he won’t fall into the trap this time — he simply won’t ask.

No matter how burning the compulsion is, how desperately he wants to know? Nope. Not asking.

Ryder practically gags on his first sip of coffee — funny, thinks Taylor, since he chugs down alcohol strong enough to burn off his tastebuds any other time — before he speaks.

“And there’s no one else suspect?”

Cadence shrugs. “The Mayor wasn’t at the garden, but even if it is him by some miracle or another he’d need a witch to summon that level of power.”

“All roads lead to the Garden.”

“Worst case scenario they agree.”

“You should’ve gone with her,” hard to tell which one is sharper; the look Nik throws at the vampire or the edge of his words, “no one has it in good with those crones. She could use the protection.”

“On the contrary I might be second to, well, you in how I stand with them.”

Context — context is good. And judging by said context this Garden Coven is rather the opposite. He pipes up; “They don’t know me yet, that’s a positive, right?”

Three pairs of eyes in a deadpan stare that tells him no, no that isn’t a positive at all.

“Well,” Cal smacks his open palms on his jeans and resumes his seat — the kid and his dad are gone now, the toy left abandoned and on its side, “nothin’ to do but wait. Least here I don’t gotta move Garrus’ inventory.”

So that’s it, they’re just going to sit on their thumbs and wait?

Well — Cal’s going to sit. The vampire shrugs and hands his number off to Ryder with a mention to call him if there’s news; takes off back the way he had come towards the hospital cafeteria.

Then Nik’s leaning in close, voice low and breath a tickle in his ear that Taylor wasn’t prepared for and can’t exactly contain his reaction to. But luckily the front doors slide open at the same time and his shudder could easily be taken as a shiver against the chillier evening air.

“Listen, Rook, about —”

It makes him step back and gape. “You really think now is the time to talk about that?” Because, uh, no.

Then Nik’s rolling his eyes with an arm thrown over his shoulder. “No, I’m not — shut up.” And he may very well be trying to get Taylor alone to talk about… about what happened in the apartment, but his dumb legs follow anyway. Like they’re conditioned by now to know safety lies at the hells of that dumb leather duster.

He stops them just shy of an unmanned desk. Keeps his voice low; “There’s a lot goin’ on right now.”

“Gee, really?”

“I mean —” Taylor takes a little pride in forcing Nik to pinch the bridge of his nose, just a little, “— between Tonya in there, and I don’t even know how to begin tellin’ you all the things not to do in front’a the Garden Coven, and yeah sure at some point maybe… talkin’ about earlier would be good —”

“Not. right. now.”

“I ain’t sayin’ right now!” A rare grunt of genuine frustration. Maybe Taylor’s toed the line a little too far… makes him back off at the very least. He can let the man get his words out, sure.

An opportunity Nik’s grateful for. “I figure you wouldn’t wanna do this without Vera but you weren’t wrong when you said she oughta stay with Tonya. But I dunno the next time we’ll be in this part of town. And I never intended not to keep this promise.”

Oh.

Nik notices the epiphany in his eyes and gives a curt nod. Stands with his hands shoved in his jeans pockets, which hunches his shoulders, which makes him seem more sincere than the hunter’s normal bravado allows for.

“She’s two floors up. You… you up for this?”

No — he isn’t. But as ever Nik is (begrudgingly) right. Who knows the next time they’re not going to be kidnapped, or attacked, or potentially fatally worse?

So he just nods and follows the safety of Nik’s heels towards the elevator.

It should be a good thing that the Intensive Care Unit doesn’t have many long-term patients. But Taylor already has a thing with hospitals. A nearly empty floor with all the blinds drawn and only one cantankerous-looking old guy manning the nurse’s station?

Welcome back to your own personal horror movie, Taylor.

The floor’s only occupants are side-by-side. So focused on getting to her after all this time, Taylor barely gives the man a passing glance. Catches sight of a smaller, frail-looking body in the bed over where his back is hunched and shaking with silent sobs.

The air is stale with the salty taste of grief.

The first thing he notices is how dull her room looks. Makes sense; she’s in a different city in a different state than where she grew up and even if there were volunteers about they’re probably all assigned to the patients who will appreciate and take advantage of a stranger’s generosity.

“I should’ve brought flowers,” mutters Taylor absently.

She would have brought him flowers. That’s just the kind of friend Kristin is.

Only the chart at the foot of her bed says ‘Jane Doe.’ Lists extensive injuries Taylor catches only a glimpse of before he forces his gaze elsewhere. But because he’s back in the Hunter Horror Flick each new thing he sees is leagues worse than the last.

Tonya had magic on her side. Even if it was gone now, even if it hadn’t worked — it was more than the negative defenses Kristin had had against their attacker.

She looks like someone poured a gallon of ink over a kiddie pool of milk. Weird analogy but not a wrong one. The machine keeping track of her vitals beeps slow and rhythmic. Says good things about the state of her pulse and her heart… only that he’s pretty sure it should be a little more upbeat.

He would have thought the tube down her throat would make him gag but somehow knowing it’s helping keep her alive is enough to stay his weak stomach. The in-process transfusion between a healthy, red bag on her right and the barbecue sauce-looking contents of the left bag, though… well he has to look away some time.

He’d hoped—no, thought—Nik was still in the doorway; a reassuring presence giving him an inch of space. Instead the Nighthunter is given a mile and is nowhere to be found.

He shoves the ‘Why I’m Uncomfortable With That’ essay back inside — there’s room to spare in the little mental box he’s assigned to process pretty much everything regarding Nik Ryder at a later and less perilous date.

Only when he’s taken in every part of her — no matter how frail or beaten — does Taylor pull up a chair from near the open doorway. Reaches out and covers Kristin’s hand with both of his own.

Because its easier than accepting the truth Taylor just tells himself he’s getting a fever, and that alone is the reason why she’s as cold as ice.

The alternative is there, screaming in his face, but he’s willfully denied the existence of something before, right? He’s pretty much a pro at this point.

“Christ, Krissy… I’m — I’m so sorry.”

Sorry he’s only just coming to see her now. Sorry he let this happen to her in the first place. Sorry he had such a stupid idea as he had.

Only barely registers the trembling in his hand when he reaches out and pushes a strand of her hair aside. He wants to rip the tube out of her mouth — it looks alien; wrong.

Can she hear him? He’s heard different stories of coma patients being aware of what’s around them but — but this isn’t an ordinary coma. This is supernatural, this is painful.

This is all his fault.

“‘Bout time Miss Jane got herself a visitor. I told — oh, hey, don’t I know you?”

He doesn’t place the voice nor the face it belongs to at first. How could he — in such a short amount of time Taylor’s met so many different people, different creatures. To see someone from before all this began is jarring in a way he didn’t expect.

That the badge tacked onto her olive green blazer says VOLUNTEER rather than a name doesn’t help either. Not until her features waver in front of his face — a heat mirage on a distant desert road.

The cemetery tour guide is the literal last person he expected to see now. He tries to be discreet wracking his mind for her name but must not do a very good job; “Tilly, not that I’d expect ya to remember.”

“No no, I — I do. I just… it’s been a weird couple of days.”

Her gaze, bright and with that cat-like intensity Garrus has helped him get accustomed to, look through him to Kristin’s bed. “I bet.”

Right — she had invited him back to the city with a free ride; traded stories about their plans for Mardi Gras and Taylor had gushed about seeing Kristin for the first time in ages.

And something tells him Tilly lives up to that look in her eyes.

“Might I be right in guessin’ this unlucky lady is that friend’a yours?”

Hesitantly he nods — checks behind her to make sure that grumpy nurse isn’t listening in on them. “But don’t — don’t say anything, okay? I —” Nik would kill him if he was suddenly pulled in for questioning.

She taps her plush lips — how is everything about her just shy of perfect? — with a single finger.

“Secret’s safe with me. I’m just glad she’s finally got some company. I make my rounds when I can, but this ain’t my day job.”

Though that begs the question doesn’t it? “Why do I have a feeling this meeting isn’t coincidence?”

“‘Cause ya’ve got a keen sense about you. I can’t quite see what it is, lit’le human, but it’s awful strong.”

Human, she says. “So you know.”

“Know what, cher?”

“I can see through your glamour.”

“Had a hunch —” she takes the opportunity to step into the room properly, closes the curtain behind her for a barrier however thin, “— ‘specially when you kept starin’ at my ears when first we met. Talk about makin’ a girl self-conscious.”

“Oh—I’m sorry.” At least he’s sheepish about it. But the fae woman waves it off with ease.

“You didn’t go tryin’ ta out me to all the humans in my guide group, so there’s no reason for ‘sorries.’ Most mortals don’t got that kind’a sense about them.”

“You run into this kind of thing often?”

“Oh—well no,” and Tilly goes a little red at the tips of her elven ears, “but I’ve been ‘round for quite some time. In a town like Nawlins you can’t even imagine what can be seen in one immortal lifetime.”

Actually, he can? Seeing Kristin and Tilly again reminds him just how little time has actually passed since his biggest concern was making sure he had all of the ingredients for his former roommate’s ‘tried and true’ hangover cure.

It feels like he’s been through the ordeal of several lifetimes in a matter of days.

His silence speaks volumes, has Tilly pulling up a rolling computer chair from outside the curtain to join him in his solitude. She surprises Taylor by reaching out and tilting his head up with a finger crooked under his chin.

He’s quick to notice that unlike Cadence, whose years echo deep in the weaving colors of his irises, there isn’t a hint of her age to be found.

“Though maybe you can imagine…” Its a prompt — an opening.

And maybe its because she’s caught him still raw from taking in Kristin’s current state or just because he needs to get it all out to someone before he literally explodes — but its an opening that Taylor takes. A little too gladly, maybe.

The levee holding in thoughts and words breaks somewhere on his tongue and just pours out. Keeps going and going and going until she feels compelled to stop him with a gesture, grabs an untouched cup of water from Kristin’s bedside, and practically forces him to drink before he’s allowed to, well, keep going.

Lucky for him though she doesn’t seem bothered by it. In fact she’s best described as enraptured in his tale. Gives nods of understanding; gasps of surprise.

Only when he’s exhausted himself of story to tell, catching up at the literal present with— “and now we’re just waiting, but shit I don’t know where he went, actually, I should go look for him…” —does he stop and breathe.

When Tilly finally decides what to say he just knows, somehow, that she’s chosen every word with care. “That’s certainly a story for the ages, Taylor.”

“Not one I would’ve picked for myself if I had the choice.”

“We don’t always get to choose our path in this life, or the next for that matter. You should count ya’self among the lucky to be a part of the makin’ of the world; of the future.”

His brow furrows in confusion. “I don’t get it.”

“No,” the smile she gives him is coy and full of secrets, “I don’t suspect you would.”

He expects her to continue — she doesn’t. And now being left hanging is just shy of uncomfortable. Again, where the hell is Nik…?

“It strikes me, Taylor, that you might not know jus’ what you are. Ain’t you ever wondered?”

Tilly stands and kicks her chair back, makes a point of looking at the closed curtain when the chair collides with the wall loudly but when nothing happens it only encourages her further.

Gets her to grab either side of Taylor’s chair and start pulling him closer to Kristin’s bedside.

“Oi—hey, what’re you doing?” What is she talking about, what he is?

Tilly’s words drip with mischief, “Maybe that bodyguard a’yours is to blame. All this happenin’ at once but no one’s stopped to look at the big picture.”

Taylor recoils just on instinct when she goes to grab his hand but the fae isn’t having it. She wraps her spidery fingers around his wrist and the contact isn’t just warm its like a volcano — scorching hot, bubbling lava, something rising inside of him and swelling to a previously unheard sound.

But he can hear it now. Like its a part of her. Some distant lilting tune that brings to his mind’s eye towering bonfires of majestic purple flames, of waters thousands of miles deep but so clear you can see right to the bottom, of wings the size of an airplane beating heavy and true against a sky riddled with a dozen moons and infinite stars.

He jerks them apart with wide eyes. Finds the smile she’s shining down upon him unnerving in that he can see all of her teeth at once. People who smile like that are always undoubtedly up to something.

The hospital lights flicker, then return to their usual brightness.

He hadn’t even noticed them go dim.

It makes him look around wildly. “Wh—What happened? What did you do to me?” And its only occurred to him what might be considered too late that this Tilly woman might be less a friend than a foe.

“I didn’t do nothin’, cher. Just showed you a teensy bit’a what you’re capable of. Since I bet no one else has bothered to try.”

Before he can protest or even question her there’s a finger to his lips. That same spark only hinted at — the melody stuck on the tip of his tongue. “All these miracles — the good and the bad — and n’one ever stopped to wonder why they keep happenin’ to you?

“Why you can see through the fog, or why ya’ve got literal hell on ya heels?”

“Very bad luck?” He tries through a smushed mouth. Tilly’s laugh is like wind-chimes of ethereal glass.

“Luck ain’t got a side to choose. But luck — luck is a streak of random chance. This is more. After all… what’s our reunitin’ but somethin’ that ought to’ve happened to bring us in the here and now?”

Fabric rustles behind him, enough to distract the fae woman and give him the chance to get her out of his personal bubble.

He’s never been so goddamn happy to see Nik in his life. Even if he plans on hitting the man for abandoning him when this is over with.

There’s a small bouquet of tulips hanging at his side; still with the tag from the hospital gift shop downstairs.

Okay, maybe he’ll save that for another well-deserving time. Because that’s just sweet.

Only there’s nothing sweet about the glower on his face. The way it makes the dark circles under his eyes look harder, the set in his jaw more prominent. He bypasses Taylor to glare right at Tilly. An unreadable expression hidden beneath his well-placed mask.

“What exactly are you implying?” He asks; joins in on the conversation like he’s always been there. Maybe he was — lurking just out of sight.

She cocks her head playfully. “Oh, you know.”

“Pretend I don’t.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

He knows Nik well enough by now — when he doesn’t answer its because he’s still waiting for an answer to his first question.

Then they both look to Taylor — like they’re in each other’s heads. Its unnerving enough already and that just sends goosebumps down his spine.

Tilly with that same hidden knowing. And Nik…

Nik’s scaring him, to be honest, with the unfamiliar expression. An actual expression is rare enough but this… like he’s seeing Taylor for the first time. When he couldn’t have even managed it after being on top of him, being in his most intimate space?

The hunter rubs a hand over his mouth. “I had a hunch, just didn’t have the chance to figure out if it was even possible.”

“How much’a this world is born on impossible, Nik Ryder?” she asks. Earns her a sharp look.

“How can you prove it?”

She wiggles her fingers. “I jus’ did.”

“That ain’t enough to go on.”

“Not for certain — but it’s enough to get y’all in the door.”

“How quickly —”

“Say the word.”

“If he won’t listen —”

“He will.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Easy-peasy,” she presses the tips of her fingers together and Taylor swears he catches sight of sparks where they meet, “it all makes too much sense t’a be just circumstance.”

When Tilly pries her fingertips apart an unnatural breeze, warm and somehow ringed with sunlight, wafts over the room. Rustles the tips of Kristin’s hair and the thin hospital blanket resting atop her. Flutters the drawn curtain and the hem of Nik’s coat.

A single pink petal falls from one of the tulips in his hand — dances practically alive along the tile floor only to be swept out of the room.

Somehow, though, deep in his chest Taylor knows it isn’t the lobby they’ll find on the other side.

In the same way he knows that’s where they need to go next.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to stay. Not with everything going on; the danger he’d be putting her back in. They were still waiting for word on when to join the others for their confrontation with the Garden Coven.

But looking down at Kristin — frail and so so cold… can Nik blame him for finding it hard to leave her side?

“Don’t worry — she’s safe here.”

He doesn’t take the hand the fae offers and thankfully she seems to understand. “And you won’t tell the hospital who she is?”

“A fae’s word is bond.”

“Thank you.” For watching over her, for letting him vent, for whatever she seems to know that Nik hasn’t yet brought to light.

When Taylor turns its to Nik’s bouquet held out in offering. He’s seen those hands; what they’re capable of. Strangling goblins and firing crossbows and the way they cradled his jaw with yearning. Yet now they’re trembling — the fear of rejection silent but there.

“You said you should’a gotten her flowers.” Explains the Nighthunter absently.

Taylor takes them for the gift — and wayward apology — that they are. Lays them across Kristin’s lap and presses a chaste kiss to her clammy forehead.

“I’ll be back, Krissy. Get well soon.”

Nik waits until they can cross the curtain’s threshold together. Must be feeling some kind of sappy because he doesn’t even try to move away when Taylor finds reassurance in his hand.

There’s a light that shouldn’t be there glowing through the gap where it brushes the floor.

“Are you gonna explain what’s happening before we go, or —”

“I don’t wanna be wrong — you deserve better than that,” small blessings in the fact that Nik seems just as apprehensive about the first foot forward, “but if I’m not… you need to be ready for everything to change from here on out.”

He probably doesn’t mean to be funny. Taylor laughs anyway. “Like it hasn’t already?” — then, because the humor is fleeting — “You’ll stay with me, right?”

“The whole way.”

Those three words — and not even the three most important words in someone’s life — are enough to give him the courage to do what Nik won’t.

He puts his first foot forward and pulls back the curtain.

[thecursedvaultchild]

✏ "I. Will. Kill. You." With Summer and Jason? If you don't want to do Jason then Tulip? With Summer getting caught up in one of their schemes/pranks

I thought I remember reading Jason and Lau were friends, so hope you don't mind that I added @slytherin-puffskein Hope you enjoy!

---

Jason Novak had a penchant for mischief. As did his friend Laurent King. The fun these two Slytherins had! Switching all the salt and sugar containers in the Great Hall, bewitching pumpkins to splatter across the castle, slipping a Snagaluff pod into Snape's cauldron... the entertainment was endless!

And so they were crouched behind a tapestry, debating their next spectacle.

"Let's slip concrete into Snape's cauldron next!"

The blond boy shook his head at the redhead's suggestion, pushing his glasses up his face. "No, he'd know it was us. The pod was only two days ago. What if we Silencioed Mrs. Norris? That'd drive Filch up a wall."

Lau put a hand on his chest and looked horrified at the idea of hurting an animal. Before he could protest, Jason quickly reassured him.

"Fine, fine! We won't go after Mrs. Norris. Too easy anyway."

"Hmm. What if we did something to the bathrooms?"

"Ooh. Now that's an idea. What if... we flooded the ENTIRE fifth-floor?"

Jason's grin was soon mirrored on Lau's face.

"Let's do it."

They scrambled over each other to get out of the tapestry and execute their mischief.

It didn't take long for them to individually sneak into every bathroom and pull on the taps. (Though Jason did have to duck while in a girls' bathroom to avoid being seen by Moaning Myrtle. She'd put a stopper to the fun in everything.) He slipped out of the last boys' room and found Lau hopelessly trying to get access to the prefects' bathroom.

"What are you doing?"

Lau stepped back as if he'd been caught red handed and gave a sheepish look when he realized who it was. "I just thought we should get every bathroom. Maybe throw suspicion on the prefects."

"Not a bad idea. Don't know how we'll get in though. Neither of us are prefects."

"Yeah, I didn't think it through all the way. Maybe we could wait for a pref—HIDE! It's Summer!"

Glancing behind him, he could indeed see a head of silver coming their way. Shoving each other, they hurriedly ducked behind some suits of armor, watching.

Summer was completely unaware of any mischief going on and faced the door to the elusive perfect's bathroom. Opening her mouth, she started to say, "Min—" but stops. Her head tilted, as if listening to something. The hidden boys also strained their ears. There was something all right. It was faint but strong, like a waterfall in the distance. But it got louder. Until suddenly, there was a great wave of water rushing out and it crashed down upon them.

Holding onto the wall and each other, the two troublemakers struggled against the current but were dragged out into the hallway, soaked.

"What was that?!"

Lau went as red as his hair. "Oh, um...I might have put some Dr. Filibuster's in the sinks." His eyes went past Jason and widened. He looked behind him again. To see Summer.

The girl was on her side, coughing up water. It looked as if she had been swept back twenty feet. She was absolutely drenched like a cat half-drowned in a bath. The prefect badge held onto her robes and looked extra shiny now though. Coughing some more, she struggled to her feet and looked around, gaze snapping to them.

Summer Charn glared at them with such sharpness through her now wild hair, she could've been Bellatrix Lestrange. Jason could feel his heart drop and his mouth went dry.

"I. Will. Kill. You."

And in that moment, Jason Novak knew he was dead.

---

RIP Summer in that she has too many friends that are chaotic pranksters. For once, just once, can they have a prank with subtlety and ulterior motive beyond just giggles?

[19mrs-barnes17]

Partners in Crime

Summary: Katerina was at a wedding when suddenly, she was no longer in the world she knew.

Part: 1/?

Pairing: Caspian x OC

Warnings: none?

Word count: 2,500

A/N: Hola! Just got inspired to write about Caspian b/c I love him and love Ben Barnes. As always, let me know if you want a series and if so whether you would like to be tagged. Enjoy!

Katerina didn’t mean to get lost. In fact, she had only walked out the back door of her Aunt’s house a few moments ago, into what she thought was the backyard. She was momentarily blinded by the light, however, the only issue was… this was nowhere near close to being a backyard. This, was in fact, a cave. A cave which led out to a beach. She was not as panicked as one would think they would be if they had teleported, but she was a tad worried how this had occurred.

The warm sand filled between her toes as she removed her flats, walking out into sunlight. She was meant to be at a wedding, her navy blue dress with a gold belt to be made fun of by her younger cousin. She rarely wore a dress and the first time in a year that she did, this happens. There was no explanation that she could fabricate that would suffice as she continued down the beach, her dress flowed in the wind behind her.

Soon she reached a pathway up to the top of the cliffside where ruins lay, likely untouched for years. Where was she? What happened here? Her head swarmed with thoughts as she noticed something moving between the trees. Placing her flats back on, Katerina moved toward the dense forest. She felt as if she had been walking for ages, yet, she still had not a clue as to where she was.

“Hello?” Her hands pushed aside branches, the noise of footsteps growing fainter by the second. “Hello?! Excuse me, but where am I?!”

“You are in Narnia, my lady.” Her heart felt as though it left her body, a small squeal of surprise escaping her lips.

“Oh my. You startled me.” She held a hand over her chest as she attempted to catch her breath, failing miserably the moment she looked at the creature who spoke to her. “You- you’re a badger. And you talk? Oh, I am dreaming for sure.”

“I’m afraid not milady. You are most certainly awake. I apologize for startling you.” The badger stood on its hind legs, staring up at her with a twitching nose.

“Then I’m dead? There is no way this is possible. It has to be a dream.” Katerina crouched down peering at the creature with a look of pure panic in her eyes.

“Hmmm. Follow me. I think I know where we can find you some answers.” If it weren’t for the fact that she was desperate, she may have passed the offer. However, she was indeed very desperate for answers.

****

A castle. Katerina Viktoria Rosenfield of Chicago was standing in a castle. Not only that, but a castle in a mythical land that did not exist. She was afraid that she was losing her mind. Perhaps she had hit her head. Or maybe she fainted.

She wrestled with different theories as she awaited the presence of soon to be crowned king, she had been waiting a while. The badge sat on a nearby ottoman pouring two cups of tea into cups that looked rather fancy. She had a hard time believing anything.

“Ah, Trufflehunter! I am told you found a woman wandering the woods over by the ruins of Cair Paravel.” His accent threw you off, as did the rest of him. When you heard you were meeting a prince, you certainly did not expect what you got. He seemed so young to become king.

“Yes your highness. She seemed dazed and confused. I thought that perhaps one of the kings or queens of old could help her.” The dark haired prince nodded, eyes trailing over to where I sat eyeing him wearily.

“I am Prince Caspian. What is your name?” She stared into his dark brown eyes, mouth slightly agape as she struggled to pull herself back into focus.

“My… I’m… Katerina....” She almost felt angry with herself for acting so entranced, but something about the man felt as though she had seen him before. He felt eerily familiar to her. She couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that she knew those eyes.

Caspian appeared as though he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her, a similar look of recollection flickering in his eyes. Trufflehunter cleared his throat. Katerina cast her gaze to the stone floor beneath her flats, her finger tugging at her a layer of her ruffled dress.

“Come, I shall take you to them. You may join us for dinner Katerina.” Her eyes flicked up to see his hand extended toward her.

“Are you sure I am not dreaming?” Trufflehunter chuckled lightly as he nodded his head.

“Do not worry my dear, you are safe here.” She smiled gently down at the little badger as he walked alongside her and Caspian. Her hand was in the crook of the princes elbow, wondering where she had seen him before while being escorted through the halls.

“Ah, Caspian. You’ve decided to join after all. We’d thought you’d gotten lost on the way here.” A blonde young man sat at a long table smiling brightly at the prince until he notice Katerina at his side. “And who is this?”

“This is Katerina. She was found wandering the woods a few hours ago by Trufflehunter. He seems to believe that you can help her.” All four of the kings and queens stared curiously at her making her wish she could disappear. She felt scrutinized under their gazes.

“Go on dear. Ask them. They don’t bite, I promise.”

“Uhm. Where exactly am I? I get that we’re in ‘Narnia’, but where exactly is that? Europe?” The four seemed to go pale at the mentioned of the continent, eyes widening significantly.

“Where… where are you from?” The elder queen’s eyes narrowed as if she were studying Katerina.

“Chicago.”

“She’s one of us!” The little queen whispered excitedly to her older sister who shushed her.

“What do you mean one of you? Of course I’m one of you, I am human after all.”

There was a long silence as Caspian glance over at you before helping you to a seat, you mind racing with questions. Every set of eyes in the room was on you, and you felt more out of place than you’ve ever felt before.

“This isn’t our world. There is no England, no Chicago, none of it. You’re in Narnia now. I know it’s a lot to process, but you’re here for a reason.”

****

Caspian escorted Katerina to a guest room, ensuring she was comfortable and that she had all she needed. He was apprehensive to leave, something made him want to stay and help calm her.

She felt that familiarity once more. There was something inside her begging for her to look behind a tapestry on the opposite wall. Shaking her head, Katerina turned to the clothing on the bed taking the nightgown and replacing her dress with it.

A nagging sensation kept her waking constantly throughout the night, screaming for her to peek behind the tapestry. The was twitch of her arm before she found herself in front of the decoration, her hand pulled it back as she peered behind. A tunnel, dark and seemingly endless lie on the other side.

She scoured her room for a lamp, noticing a candle by the door glowing faintly. There would not be much time, and yet, she did not care. A need deep within her desired to enter the tunnel and she was not entirely on board with it. This, was exactly how people in horror movies died.

There were an endless amount of twist and turns but that tug in her somehow knew which way she was meant to go. She was terrified of this feeling, terrified and intrigued. What was she being magnetized to? Why? How did she know? Her mind had not had a moment of rest since she arrived and it was beginning to drain her.

She wound up behind what appeared to be a tapestry and prayed it was not the same one she had entered through. Carefully, Katerina pushed the tapestry forward and peered around it as she held out the candle illuminating a new room. Her eyes flowed about the room taking in all that lie before her.

A figure shifted in the darkness, a groan escaping their lips. She noticed the bed move and panicked, pulling back the candle and hiding behind the tapestry. Her hand blocked the light of the flickering flame, but it was not enough. The figure had woken and pulled back the tapestry.

“Caspian?” “Katerina?”

Caspian glanced curiously at her, and she immediately felt the heat rise to her cheeks. She tore her gaze away, feeling embarrassed that she had just poked into his room while he was sleeping.

“What are you doing in the tunnels? How do you even know about them?” He was rubbing his face with his free hand as he held up the tapestry.

“I-I… I’m not exactly sure.” The candle blew out as she sighed. Caspian chuckled tiredly, moving to relight the flame. “This is gonna sound crazy.”

“I think I can handle a little crazy. Come, sit.” He took the candle and led her over to his desk, setting the candle upon it and moving out the chair for her. “Go ahead.’

“Ever since I saw you, I’ve….  had this feeling as if I know you. As if I had met you before. And when I was in that room, I-I somehow knew there was a tunnel. Not only that but I felt as though I was being led somewhere. Here.”

“Why here?”

“I don’t know. It felt as though I had done it all before, every step felt familiar. But that’s impossible.” Caspian nods, his mind clearing working to find an explanation but coming up at a loss.

“Perhaps, we shall find an answer at a more reasonable hour. Come, let us get you back to your room.” He pauses, “But… you lead.” before he lifts up the tapestry.

Though she cannot see his face as they travel, Katerina can just feel his astonishment as she walks without asking for help once. It was as if she had memorized the tunnel before even setting foot in it.

“This is incredible. Those tunnels are known to very few, especially now.” She couldn’t help but be amazed herself. How? It was her constant question here.

****

“You’ve never been to Narnia before?” The Susan was stumped, the puzzle of Katerina intriguing her more and more with every new development. She shook her head and Susan was back to silently tossing ideas about her mind. Caspian sat next to the queen, across the table, eyes never leaving Katerina.

“And Caspian, you don’t recognize her?” He shook his head, but, there was something he was not sharing. Katerina met his gaze, narrowing her eyes in suspicion.  His gaze was unwavering.

“But you feel like you recognize Caspian?”

“Yes.”

Susan did her best to think but ultimately decided to do her thinking on her own in the library instead. She left Katerina alone with Caspian.

“What weren’t you saying in front of her?” Katerina wasted no time in confronting the prince, tired of this mystery.

“When… Well, when I first saw you I felt something like you described early this morning. The feeling that I had seen you before, only… perhaps younger.”

“What make you say younger?”

“It was like you were saying, only the eyes triggered something. Like a memory.” Katerina took a few steps back.

“I didn’t get a flashback or anything. What did you see.” Caspian tensed a bit.

“Someone I have seen in years. She went missing over 5 years ago, no one has heard from her since.” Katerina suddenly felt very faint, leaning against the stone wall for support.

“That’s… No. It’s not possible.” Her heart felt as though it had rapidly increased, breathing becoming more and more difficult.

“Katerina?! Breathe, please. Kat!” She gasped, eyes widening as a memory flooded her senses.

    ~~

“Kat! C’mon Kat! We’re almost there.”

Katerina found herself in the tunnels again, only this time there was a little boy running ahead of her occasionally smiling over his shoulder at her. He cheered her on as they sped through turn after turn, slowing once they reached their destination.

No one could be seen on the other side of the tapestry, and the hunt for sweets began. Katerina searched high and low with the boy, hitting the jackpot with a basket of pastries. The little boy snagged the basket and bolted into the tunnel when he heard footsteps and Katerina was quick to follow. They snacked on the sweets in a room that looked nearly identical to Caspian’s.

Soon grumbling could be heard on the other side of the door and, what Kat could only guess to be young Caspian was shoving her back into the tunnel. She could hear the lecturing and argument between Caspian and the adult.

“But Uncle Miraz!”

“No. That’s the end of it. You are never to disobey again, for a king-”

“Must adhere to the rules, not just the people. I know uncle.”

When his uncle had gone, Caspian entered the tunnel with a grumpy expression glued to his face. Kat giggled at his pout and he stuck out his tongue.

“I hate his lectures. He always catches me.”

“Then why be bad?”

“Because its fun. Because you have to when you have a partner in crime.”

“You don’t have to commit crime to have a partner in crime. It just means we’re partners, we work together. Always having each other’s backs.”

“Oh.”

“I gotta go. My mom probably wants me home.”

“Aw, we barely got to play two days this time.”

“It’s okay I’ll be back.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

    ~~

“Kat.” His brow furrowed. “You called me Kat.”

“I don’t know where that came from.”

The two sat upon the floor, not even two inches from one another looking rather perplexed. Katerina slowly caught her breath, calming herself.

“Partners in crime.” Caspian glanced curiously at her, as if he were remembering the phrase himself. “You were my imaginary friend as a kid.”

“I’m not imaginary.”

“Well I can see that. But, as a kid… my parents always insisted you weren’t real. I was the only one who could see the castle and the boy. I always chalked it up to a big imagination.”

“You were the little girl would appear for a few days and then disappear for weeks. You were Kat, my only friend.”

“Wow. This… is amazing. I thought I would never see you again because you weren’t real.”

“I thought the same. My uncle never believed me, always claiming that there never was a little girl roaming the castle and that I needed to grow up.”

She couldn’t restrain herself as she reached out and pulled Caspian in for a hug. Tears brimmed her eyes as she spoke.

“I’ve missed you partner.”

“I’ve missed you too.”

[amarauder]

chapter twenty-seven ❥ original

it’s a hate-love thing original version.

james potter x reader.

Y/n blinked at her Transfiguration essay, which kept rambling on and on about absolutely nothing. Why she was so terrible at the subject was beyond her understanding. Sirius was right; she was even more terrible than Violet, who was considerably the worst in their class. Miraculously, she had achieved an "Outstanding" on her Transfiguration O.W.L., but Y/n believed it to be pure luck.

James, on the other hand, was relaxing with Sirius near the fire. He was in a very good mood; Gryffindor was in the lead in Quidditch and first place in house points, and he was getting very high grades in every subject, including the dreaded Potions. So he stole a glance at his girlfriend, who, to his surprise, looked highly agitated and confused.

He strolled over to her and her pile of homework and books. "What's wrong, n/n?"

Y/n looked at her boyfriend in despair. "Oh, James," she wailed. "I don't understand this section on animal-human transfiguration! It's so difficult!"

"I'll help you," he offered generously.

"Would you? Oh, thank you, James!" She rewarded him with a kiss on his cheek, which resulted in Sirius laughing loudly.

"Now, now, no public display of affection," scolded the latter.

James rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Padfoot. Now, it's really quite simple, Y/n. First you..." And then he went on explaining about the transfiguration and how to master it precisely.

"Thanks, James; I do appreciate it," said Y/n effusively.

"I'll do your essay, too, if you want."

"No, that's all right." She looked confused. "That would be cheating, wouldn't it?"

He shrugged. "Hey, anything for my girl."

Y/n smiled and kissed him gently. "I love you, James."

Even though he was very aware of the fact that Y/n loved him, it made James' heart soar to hear those three words escape from her lips in the most unexpected times and places. He had a sudden urge to snog her right then and there, but knew that it would probably result in both of their badges taken away, and corruption of the younger students who were too young to witness such a passionate romantic desire.

"Hey, Prongs, no mushiness!" exclaimed Sirius, breaking their moment. Ah, well. At least James was saved from the possible resignation of his position as Head Boy.

"Shut up, Sirius," snapped Arabella from the other side of the room. "Don't you have any respect at all?"

"Let me think...no."

She let out a frustrated growl, which nearly frightened the younger Gryffindors to their deaths.

"Lighten up, Arabella," said Jennifer sternly, as she crawled out of Remus' arms.

"I know, but I actually want Y/n and James' relationship to last." Arabella gave a cursory glance at the couple.

"Don't worry, it will," affirmed James, nodding emphatically. "I love Y/n too much to even bicker with her."

"I won't argue with that," agreed Remus, now trying to capture an elusive Jennifer, who kept playing hide-and-seek with him.

"Er—hello, Y/n," said a young girl shyly, whom Y/n recognized at once as Laura Smith, one of the two Gryffindor prefects.

"Hey, Laura," she greeted cordially. "Can I help you with something?"

"I-I was wondering if you could maybe help me with something in Charms," she began, rather red in the face. "Everyone's told me that you're the best Charms student in the whole school."

Y/n blushed. "Well, I wouldn't say that, but I'd be delighted to help you."

"Thank you." Laura beamed.

"James, I'll be right back. I'm going to help Laura with Charms."

"All right, n/n." James kissed her softly once more and went off to talk to Sirius, no doubt planning another prank against Snape.

After about fifteen minutes of Y/n explaining the Silencing Charm patiently with Laura, the two girls had immediately found each other as kindred souls, and chatted and laughed like old friends.

"You have such a devoted boyfriend," said Laura wistfully. "I wish I had someone as sweet and clever as he. My sister told me that James Potter used to be the most wanted boy in the school besides Sirius Black."

Y/n smiled inwardly; it felt good to be the object of envy for once in her life. "Don't worry, you'll find someone."

"I hope so. I'm a terribly hopeless romantic, so don't mind if I get a bit carried away about boys." She flushed.

"Oh, don't worry about it," assured Y/n.

"I've always wanted a boyfriend who was sweet, clever, kind, and loyal," said Laura dreamily. "Someone with integrity, whom you can trust for all your life, and also with bravery, who would stand up for what he believed in no matter what the consequences."

"That's very powerful," said Y/n softly.

"Yes. I know it's a lot to expect, but I am rather particular with boys. Many have asked me out the past years, but none fit my descriptions. I know I'm probably being selfish, but maybe one day I'll find my mate, huh?"

"You know, Laura, I think you will. You were a lot like me when I was your age, and look at me now! Girlfriend of the famous James Potter, and Head Girl along with him as well."

Laura laughed. "But you know, I like being single. There's no worrying about spending a lot of time with your boyfriend, and I can concentrate more on my studies. After all, my O.W.L.s are this year, and I want to become an Auror when I grow older, since the threat of You-Know-Who is rising."

"All this rubbish about 'You-Know-Who'! It's Voldemort, and there's nothing scary about saying his name."

Everyone in the common room stopped what they were doing and stared at Y/n in awe and reverence. Whoever was brave enough to say Voldemort's name nowadays were considered heroes.

"You said his name!" exclaimed Laura in a hushed voice. "But he could be anywhere!"

"Look, if you want to become an Auror, than you have to say his name," said James, edging closer to the girls.

Y/n smiled at James. "Exactly."

"I feel so cowardly then," sighed Laura, her eyes downcast. "Me, scared of a name...I'm no Gryffindor."

"Of course you are. You weren't Sorted here for no reason."

"Y/n..." whined James, pouting.

She glared at him. "What, James?"

"You aren't paying any attention to me. Hey, Laura, d'you mind if I borrow my girlfriend from you?"

Laura giggled and shook her head. "No, go ahead."

"Laura! You're leaving me with this buffoon!"

"Hey! I may be a buffoon, but I'm your buffoon!"

Y/n laughed along with Laura. "Oh, very well, then. Bye, Laura!"

"Bye, Y/n."

She turned to James. "Did you have to interrupt like that?"

"Only if I can be with my girl more, yes."

Y/n sighed. "You really know how to get a girl, Potter."

"I know. You're the perfect one for me. I do have good taste, after all." James kissed her forehead lightly. "I love you."

"Hem, hem."

They both turned around to see Kenneth Hughes grinning at them like crazy, his light brown curls tumbled wildly around his head, which made his hair looked oddly like James'.

"Hello," said James pleasantly.

"Potter." He nodded curtly. "L/n."

"Can we help you?"

"Yes, actually. Er—you know, it's Emmeline's birthday soon—March eighth—and I need to get her a birthday present. Do you have any ideas?" He looked pleadingly at them.

"Jewelry?" suggested Y/n, after a while of thought.

"She has to much of those beady things."

"Cosmetics?" said James, making a face. Obviously, Kenneth didn't agree either, for he made a disgusted face as well.

"I know!" cried Y/n triumphantly. "A nice book, preferably a novel. I always love getting those."

The two boys turned to look at her incredulously, their eyebrows raised.

"What?" she said defensively. "I do!"

"Emmeline's more of a girl," explained Kenneth. "You know, like one of those giggly girls that always pass us fellows in the hallways and stare like fish."

James smiled. "How about a locket? I saw some really pretty ones in that little shop next to Madam Puddifoot's."

"That's perfect! Thanks, James." The younger boy shook his hand with ebullience and ran frenetically out of the common room, nearly sending the Fat Lady off her hinges.

"Does he really like her that much?" said Y/n discreditably.

"Probably. Our hormones are still in work, you know."

"That's true."

James yawned and lay down on his back. "I'm so bored. There's nothing to do."

"We can study for our Charms quiz," offered Y/n.

"No, I know that rubbish already."

"Look over Potions notes?"

"Nah, I already know how to brew the Draught of Living Death."

"Practice transfiguring a desk into a pig?"

"No way, that's too simple. C'mon, Y/n, no studying please. Tell me something nice."

"We can go to the kitchens," she said with a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

"Been there too many times."

"JAMES! You're not helping."

"Sorry, Y/n, but everything's too boring."

"I'll make it less boring." And with that said, Y/n kissed James square on the lips, which made him bolt upright in surprise.

"Whoa, am I interrupting something?" Sirius raised an eyebrow.

"No, Padfoot, just a snog session with my girlfriend," said James, grinning at Y/n teasingly.

"A ha! I knew I'd catch you two doing something like that. Oh, and Prongs, just to let you know, I'll be moving out of your house by this summer. My uncle Alphard gave me a bit of gold to at least get a place of my own. Dear old Mum probably blasted him off the tapestry, too. Anyone associated with me gets off the dear family three." He laughed bitterly.

"All right..." James looked rather taken aback at Sirius' sudden announcement.

"Don't worry, Prongs, I'll still visit you."

"But Sirius"—Sirius immediately tensed, as whenever the Marauders used their first names, it was meant to be serious (no pun intended)—"shouldn't you visit your family before you get your own place? You know, just to let them know how you're doing."

"Nothing would make me do that, Prongs. My family doesn't give a damn about me, since they think I'm a blood traitor because I'm mingling with other blood traitors like the Potters."

"We're a very respectable family," said James, his voice sounding stiff and superior all of a sudden.

"Yeah, don't worry about that; Mum's just jealous."

"Sirius," said Y/n, "is it true that your brother's a Death Eater?"

His face darkened. "I've heard such, but I don't know if it's true. Mum and Dad are always saying that Voldemort's got the right idea about getting rid of Muggles and Muggle-borns, but I'm sure that they're not aware of how he's getting rid of them. They don't read the Daily Prophet."

"Anyone up for some Quidditch?" said James, trying to lighten up the mood.

"James, we just had practice yesterday," said Sirius, exasperated.

"So? This is our last year at Hogwarts, Padfoot. I want to win that Cup!"

"Prongs, we've won it ever since we joined the team in our second year. After all, who could beat a team with Potter and Black in it?"

Y/n laughed, as did James. Sirius was always one to cheer up everyone and brighten gloomy moods.

"Hey, Moony," said Sirius, his voice lower, "when's the full moon?"

"It was last week, Sirius," said Remus, looking at his friend critically.

"Oh, I was afraid you'd say that. I'm so bored."

"Well, don't go hexing Snape, now, or Y/n would have a fit like last time."

"Who cares? I want to hex Snivelly, Prongs. You coming?"

"No, Padfoot, I think I'll stay here."

"Aww...c'mon, Prongs, be a sport! You said you were bored, too."

"I know, but that's no reason to hex Snivellus just because we're bored."

"That's right," encouraged Y/n, nodding her head, "listen to James, Sirius. Or rather, Padfoot." She grinned wickedly.

"Actually, I don't think it's a good idea," said Sirius hastily, noticing Y/n's look. "Up for a game of chess, Bellsies?"

"Wow, you are evil, n/n," said James, impressed. "I've never seen Sirius so frightened in his life."

"Yes, I am, aren't I?" Y/n smiled and leaned against James.

"You know, you've really loosened up throughout these past years."

"Really?" She straightened herself up. "Explain, please."

"I mean, you used to be such a bossy, know-it-all in our first year." He grinned and ducked a swat that was aimed at him. "You were just like that Hermione."

"For your information, Hermione is a very nice girl and very sensible, unlike that son of yours..."

"He's yours, too."

"Unfortunately. I can see that he has his father's knack of getting into trouble too often."

"Damn straight!"

"James Potter, how many times have I told you to refrain from using such crude language? Swearing does not benefit you in any way."

"Y/n, you shouldn't be worrying about crude language, when Voldemort is taking over. We have to put aside those paltry things that we used to worry about and focus on the more important things."

"Yes." Y/n looked away, feeling ashamed of herself. "Yes, you're right, of course."

James sighed and looked out of the window, where the grounds were still covered with a thin layer of snow. He was extremely worried about Voldemort's reign of power. He was slowly gathering more followers each day, and he knew that nearly half of them were Sirius' relatives, who've always supported Voldemort's ideas about purebloods taking over. And his parents, who were one of the most elite Aurors in the Ministry, were nearly working overtime each day. They've written very few letters to him recently, and James didn't blame them one bit, for he knew that they were too busy investigating Voldemort's victims and where he would strike next.

Y/n looked over at her boyfriend, worried. She knew that James' parents were one of the targets of Voldemort, because they had a high position in the Ministry as one of the top Aurors. If something ever happened to Mr. and Mrs. Potter, James would be heartbroken for sure. And yet, her family was in danger as well. She was well acquainted with Voldemort, meeting him on three various occasions, and narrowly escaping him along with James. Because of that, and also because of the fact that she was Muggle-born, she and her family were targets as well.

They both knew that they were in grave danger, but felt safer in each other's arms just then.

Y/n was sweating all over, but she beamed as her desk transfigured into an otter easily. She had passed the test with an "O", and Professor McGonagall had even given her one of her rare smiles.

"Ten points to Gryffindor, Ms. L/n," she said, with a tight-lipped smile.

James, of course, had easily done the transfiguration, since his wand was very powerful and especially adept at the subject.

"Ten points to Gryffindor, Mr. Potter," said McGonagall, but she did not offer him a smile, for she was too used to him getting everything correct.

"Thank you, Professor," said James, nodding.

Professor McGonagall blinked. "Excuse me, Mr. Potter? I believe I did not hear you correctly. Did you just thank me?"

"Well, yes," said James, nonplussed. "After all, you did award Gryffindor ten points."

"Is this some kind of prank, Potter?"

"No, Professor." James frowned.

"All right, then. Well, you're welcome, then, Potter." However, McGonagall still looked apprehensive and stared at her classroom, as if waiting for something to happen. But nothing did.

Then the bell rang, and everyone exited the room, while Professor McGonagall still looked extremely surprised at the thought of James Potter thanking her.

"Why did you thank Professor McGonagall?" asked Y/n curiously. "You never thank anyone."

"Is it a crime to start being polite?" said James, annoyed.

"Well, no," admitted Sirius, "what she meant was that you surprised everyone."

James shrugged. "It's not too much. After all, with Voldemort gathering so many followers, everything we used to think was big is now inconsequential."

"True," concurred Remus. "You know, you're quite right, Prongs. I'm glad you've finally grown up."

"Oh, that's rich," he returned sarcastically. "You mean I've been immature all my life?"

"Yes," they all chorused.

"James, will you go out with me?" asked a Ravenclaw seventh-year, smiling at him shyly.

"Sorry, I already have a steady girlfriend," said James. "Surely you knew that."

"Oh, right." Her face fell. "Y/n L/n. Sorry I asked." The Ravenclaw went away without another word.

"Well, you're quite popular with the ladies still, Prongs," said Sirius, nodding approvingly. "Even though you're now attached, they still want you."

"Which is not something to be proud of," added Y/n, her e/c eyes flashing with jealousy.

"Don't worry, I won't leave you," reassured James.

"There goes Snivellus," said Sirius, his eyes following Snape and his gang's every move. "Can we just hex him once, Prongs?"

James' eyes traveled to the black-haired boy, who was now staring at them, waiting for him to hex him. "No, Sirius," he said in a final tone.

"Prongs, you're no fun anymore." His face fell.

"Grow up, Sirius," said Arabella angrily. "Haven't you realized it already? Life is not about hexing Snape until he becomes stripped of all his clothing. With Voldemort on the rise, I thought that you'd have some sense like James."

"It's 'James this' and 'James that'!" exclaimed Sirius furiously. "Why does everything revolve around Potter? It's always 'James is the best' or 'James is so cute', but never 'Sirius always does the right thing'. Well, excuse me for not playing the hero like he does! He saved Snivellus that night of the full moon from Remus, and now he's setting an example for everyone. What about me, James...our friendship? What has it become?"

Everyone grew silent after Sirius' outburst, and even the Slytherins stopped to listen. James felt extremely guilty. It was true that everyone looked up at him, but did Sirius have to be so selfish? However, he knew that he had lost this time, for something in his and Sirius' friendship was lost, and would never be recovered again. He had been neglecting his best friend, and spending more time with Y/n or the prefects. He was so busy that he had forgotten all about Sirius, who was always there for him.

"I'm sorry," he finally said. "You're right, Sirius; I have been ignoring you lately. I'm sorry, n/n"—he turned to his girlfriend—"but I need to spend more time with my best friend now."

Y/n nodded. "Of course, James."

James walked to Gryffindor Tower with Sirius at his heels. He said the password, and went straight up to his dormitory without another word. When he flopped on his bed and pulled something out, Sirius began to speak.

"Look, I'm really sorry about what happened out there—"

"No." James cut him off. "You're right. I have been ignoring you, and that's a terrible sin. We've been best friends since forever, and I want to spend some time with you. Really."

Sirius broke into a grin. "Thanks, Prongs."

"Anytime, Padfoot. Hey, look what I got out!"

"Our Marauder album!" exclaimed Sirius in delight. "We haven't added to it in ages. You know, Moony and Wormtail should be here, too."

"I know, but I just want to spend time with you, only. Moony and Wormtail are my friends too, but you're my best friend."

James got out the album, and he and Sirius were flipping through it, laughing, crying, or plain smiling. It consisted of pictures, notes, and any other random item that related to their adventures at Hogwarts. Their favorite one was the one taken by the lake in their first year. A small James was seated on a rock, and Remus and Peter were next to him. Little Sirius had his arms around the three of them, and they were all laughing at his antics. Yes, those were the times...but the happy days were now long gone forever.

"I miss those days," said Sirius softly. "Where we were all carefree and happy. But heck, I'd rather have you and Y/n together than fighting like children."

James smiled. "Yeah. I do miss those days, too. There was no Voldemort, no chaos in the Ministry..."

"It was almost like an utopia."

"Yeah, but it doesn't matter. We've got each other, and that's all that matters."

Sirius grinned. "You sound so cliché, Prongs."

"So what if I do? The girls love a man who says these overly-romantic things."

"Glad to have the old Prongs back, too."

James grabbed his best friend and gave him a fierce embrace.

"Whoa, now we're doing the hugging thing?"

He laughed. "Nah. I'm just happy that you're my friend, Padfoot."

Sirius hugged him back. "I'm glad too, Prongs. And even though we love our women"—James snorted loudly—"we'll always be best friends and never even let girls or Voldemort get into our way. Right?"

James was too surprised to speak. "I do believe that's the most intelligent thing you've ever said in our life, Padfoot."

"Aww...shut up!"

They both laughed, sealing their friendship tighter than ever.

"I'd like to thank you two for planning my birthday party," said Emmeline, beaming with happiness.

"Well, it was all Kenneth's idea," said Y/n modestly.

Emmeline gasped, and hugged her boyfriend tightly, while everyone, even Regulus, cheered loudly.

Y/n smiled as James put his arm around her. "Settle down, now. Let's get started on business, shall we?"

"About what?" interjected Regulus rather rudely.

James closed his eyes and stiffened visibly, trying to assuage the urge to slap the younger Black. "Five points from Slytherin, Mr. Black."

"What?" cried the young Black angrily. "You can't do that!"

"Oh, I have just as much power as the teachers to, Black. You're not one to talk about unfairness; Hurst docks off points from Gryffindor even when we breathe."

"As he should." Regulus sneered. "You Gryffindors pollute the air by breathing. You always take away oxygen that we should have."

"Stuff it," muttered James viciously. "Anyway, back to business. Now, for those staying here in the Easter holidays, you will be enjoying a feast for the first time at Hogwarts in many years."

"Why?" asked Brett Fawcett, the other Ravenclaw prefect.

"Well—er—Dumbledore didn't explain any details, but I think he wanted us to enjoy life here before Voldemort takes over."

There were audible gasps all around the room, and James rolled his eyes at Y/n.

"Surely you're not afraid of speaking his name, are you?"

"You said the Dark Lord's name," stammered Regulus, too stunned to make a comeback.

James shrugged. "So I did. What's the big deal? It's just a name."

"But he might hear you any time," said Emmeline in the same hushed voice as Laura had used.

"Ha! He's not that powerful."

"My father," said Irwin Macmillan in a bombast tone, "said that he knew Legilimency."

"I hear he does, too," conceded James, "but that doesn't mean he can hear everything. 'Sides, there are ways to block a Legilimens, such as Occlumency."

"Do you know it then?"

"Unfortunately, no, but I'm sure I can learn it."

"Your parents were in the Prophet last week," said Joanne Lawrence, a Hufflepuff. "They praised them very well."

"Yeah, I was thinking of becoming an Auror, too," said James casually.

"That's dangerous!" gasped Emmeline, her eyes widening.

"Yes, it is, but I still want to do it," said James obdurately. "Now, as I was saying—"

"You might get killed," said Lurietta Marcelo, a Slytherin, though she hardly sounded disappointed.

"I know. Now, back to the Easter—"

"You wouldn't care," shot back Laura, who looked completely livid. "Dad's told me that your family are all supporters of the Dark Arts and You-Know-Who!"

"Ha! What would you know, you filthy half-Mudblood?"

"How dare you!"

"Oh, yeah? Well, I ought to—"

"Oh, shut UP!" roared James, and with a flick of his wand, Lurietta had promptly stopped talking, though her mouth was still moving furiously.

"Very nice, James," lauded y/n, fighting back the urge to laugh. "But we are at a prefect meeting, and you should be taking it off, as admirable as it is."

"Right." James turned pink and took the charm off.

"You'll pay for that, Potter!" exclaimed Lurietta furiously.

"Twenty points from Slytherin, Marcelo," snapped James, "for such abominable name-calling, like Mr. Black, and for insulting the Head Boy and one of your fellow prefects."

"You're abusing your position as Head Boy!" cried Regulus in a rage. "It isn't fair."

"Oh, it is, Mr. Black," said y/n coolly. "Insulting the heads and a fellow prefect does not have light consequences. I think that Mr. Potter is doing his part quite sufficiently."

"You'd think," spat Regulus, "'cause you're his girlfriend."

"I am perfect impartial and objective toward the prefects, Mr. Black, so I kindly refrain you from saying further."

The rest of the meeting went smoothly, and to no one's surprise, Regulus and Lurietta remained quiet and sullen the whole time.

"Well, that was interesting," commented y/n, as they walked back to Gryffindor Tower.

"These Slytherins are getting worse and worse," groaned James. "Couldn't Dumbledore just not put any of them as prefects? They're evil, all of them!"

"Not necessarily. There can be some good person who is in Slytherin because they are very ambitious. Being in Slytherin does not make you evil, James."

"Yeah, but if you were evil, you'd be a Slytherin. Quite simple."

Y/n sighed, shaking her head. "Sometimes I wonder about you, James Potter."

"You know you love me, Y/n, so there's no need," said James smugly.

"Whatever."

"Hey, Y/n, James!"

They both turned around to see Joanne Lawrence running toward them, her face rather pink and her hair out of her usual ponytail.

"Er—hello," said James, surprised.

"I just wanted to tell you two that you're one of the bravest people I know," she said breathlessly.

"Thank you," said Y/n, rather taken aback. "I'm quite surprised."

"As I am, as well," added James.

Joanne blushed. "Well, you see, I've always been cowardly and insignificant...the Sorting Hat said so...and I've always admired Gryffindors for their courage and sacrifice. I mean, look at you two! Destined to become great Aurors and fight He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Names! While, I, Joanne Lawrence, can't even say You-Know-Who's name."

"Being a Gryffindor doesn't mean you're brave," corrected James. "I mean, look at me. I don't think I qualify as a 'brave' person; I'm just reckless and do things without much apparent thought. It's just like being a Ravenclaw doesn't make you all brainy, or being a Hufflepuff makes you stupid and an outcast. I mean, even if you were a Slytherin, you wouldn't be necessarily evil! It all comes down to who you really are inside."

Y/n, who had been extremely surprised at Joanne's comment before, nearly fell down in shock at James'. Never had he talked so philosophically and wisely as he did at that very moment and it shocked Y/n tremendously. James Potter, philosophy, and wise were three words that never mixed together into one sentence. When one thought of "wise", they thought of Albus Dumbledore, and when one thought of "philosophy", they thought of Nicholas Flamel (or so the people who knew him did). But when one thought of "reckless" and "egotistical", that was when they thought of James Potter (or Sirius Black, for the matter). However, Y/n thought wrong, for James could be equally clever and wise when he wanted or needed to be, and she was frankly astonished that he even used one of her own philosophies into his own when she had thought he never listened to her.

"Thank you, James!" exclaimed Joanne, flustered and pleased. "I feel much better now."

"I'll escort you back to your common room, Joanne," he offered kindly.

"Oh, no, I wouldn't want you to spend less time with Y/n," she said, a hint of a grin playing on her lips. "Good-bye, then!" And with that said, she raced off to another direction of the castle, back to her common room, no doubt.

"You never cease to amaze me, Potter," said Y/n, shaking her head, but smiling.

"I know; that's why you love me, right?"

Y/n thought for a moment. Why did she love James? Well, for one thing, he was now extremely modest and humble. He was also funny, kind, and very clever. It was then that she realized that James was everything she'd ever wanted in a boy, and that she finally found her dream man. The small smile that was tugging at her lips became a full-fledged one, as she sighed contentedly, and crushed her boyfriend in a warm and welcoming hug.

James was rather surprised at the sudden hug that came out of the blue, but he dismissed it probably as one of Y/n's hodgepodge thoughts again. But then, that was why he loved her, wasn't it? She was unique, one of a kind.

So when their faithful friends, who had been waiting patiently for them to come back to Gryffindor Tower, went off to search for them, that was where they found them: hugging, seeking the comfort of each other.

"How terribly romantic," commented Violet, her dark eyes acquiring a dreamy look.

"Oh, brother," moaned Jennifer. "Stop it already, Vi! I'll squash the romance out of you if it's the last thing I do."

"Now, now, I don't think I'd do that if I were you, Jenny," whispered Remus, pulling his girlfriend closer to him. "If there wasn't any love or romance in this world, how could we survive?"

"I suppose you're right," sighed Jennifer.

"Sh!" hissed Arabella, her gray eyes turning toward the hugging couple again. "You'll ruin the moment. Here—Sirius, get me your camera!"

"Accio camera," whispered Sirius, and his camera flew into his hands in an instant.

Arabella grabbed it eagerly, and took quick snapshots of the still hugging couple. "These will develop once when put them in the potion," she said, looking pleased.

Indeed, there was a reason for her to be pleased. For the picture expressed many different type of emotions: love, pain, misunderstandings, and blindness. It expressed all the obstacles that Y/n and James went through, until they finally found love and comfort in each other.

"Arabella, how could you?" cried Y/n, anguished, as she stared at the photo of her and James hugging in a corridor.

"I thought you'd be pleased," argued Arabella, rather puzzled. "I mean, it'd be a great memoir when you look back at it when you're a fifty-year-old woman."

"If I even live that long," she retorted.

"Oh...right. Well, then, give it to Harry when he's old enough."

"ARABELLA!"

"All right, then! But seriously, though, it was rather romantic when we saw it the other day. I mean, it expressed so much."

"That may be so, but you had no right to take a picture of a private moment! We could've been snogging, for all you'd know!"

"Or de-clothing each other," added Arabella, grinning wickedly at the thought.

Y/n was aghast. "Oh, you have such a dirty mind."

"Don't you know it. I think Sirius influenced me, however."

"Yeah. I'll be surprised if you guys haven't even de-clothed yourselves already."

"You know I'd never!" exclaimed Arabella, her eyes widening. "Why, Sirius has more integrity than that. And you call me with a dirty mind."

"Oy! Bellsies, I've got the—oh, hello, Y/n." Sirius stopped in mid-sentence as he spotted his girlfriend's best friend. "Have you talked it over with her yet?" he whispered to Arabella.

"Yes, but she doesn't agree," she whispered back.

Sirius groaned softly, but immediately regained composure as he thought of a plan. "Hey, n/n, you love Jamsies, is that right?"

"Yes..." Y/n stared at him suspiciously.

"So you wouldn't mind if we took a picture of you guys...by accident, of course," he added hastily.

"Oh, Merlin! Just forget about all this, and you guys can distribute the picture; I could care less anymore. C'mon, let's see it."

Sirius handed the picture to Y/n meekly. Y/n took one look at the picture and flushed brightly. Even though her best friends still didn't have permission to interfere with such privacy, she had to admit that it was very romantic all the same, if it was taken by illegal means.

"It's decent," she said, nodding.

"Excellent!" Sirius beamed, and Arabella grinned.

"Don't show it to James just yet, though. He'll throw a bigger fit than I did."

"We won't," reassured Arabella, still smiling.

They, of course, did show it to James, courtesy of Sirius. After all, when had they actually listened to Y/n? Of course, they should have, as Lily was right again.

"SIRIUS BLACK, HOW COULD YOU? THAT WAS MEANT TO BE A PRIVATE MOMENT!" roared James, staring at the photo.

"It was Arabella's idea," his best friend said in a small voice.

"But it was your camera," accused James angrily.

"We're sorry, Prongs," said Remus with equanimity. "We didn't realize you could be so disagreeable about it."

"What? I am not." However, James knew that he easily lost the argument, for he could never have Remus' cool sense of logic.

"Of course you are. It's just a stupid photo. It's not like we interrupted a snog or a, shall we say, an extremely private moment. You may dispose of it if you wish."

James opened his mouth, about to say that he wanted to get rid of it at once, no doubt, but clamped it shut almost at once. "You may keep it, if you want."

"Thanks, Prongs! I knew you'd come by sooner or later." Sirius grinned and pocketed the picture carefully, not knowing that that one picture would change the life of a boy living twenty years later into the future.

"Does Y/n know about this?"

"Oh, yes, of course. Bella told her first, and she told us not to tell you just yet, since Y/n was afraid you might blow a casket—which you did, by the way. So, my point is—"

"Shut up, Padfoot," said Remus wearily. "You don't have a point. Stop rambling."

"I love you too, Moony."

"WHAT?"

"I was joking!"

"Well, you'd better be!"

"Oh, shut it, the both of you," grumbled James. "Now, where's my copy?"

"Of what?"

"Of the photo, Padfoot! Surely you don't think I can pass the opportunity, can you?"

Sirius glanced at his best mate in surprise. "Er—sure."

James went down to the common room, and sank into a chair, and closed his eyes.

"James?"

He opened his eyes and blinked. "Hey, n/n."

"What are you doing here?"

"Just thinking."

"About...?"

"About how lucky I am to have a girl like you."

Y/n smiled inwardly, though she tried her best to frown. "You know you can't sweet-talk me forever, Potter."

"I know. But I also know that I can try."

"You're sweet." Y/n cuddled next to James, and buried her face in his chest.

He chuckled lightly. "Again, I try to make everything possible for you, Y/n."

Feels like I'm standing in a timeless dream

Of light mists of pale amber rose

Feels like I'm lost in a deep cloud of heavenly scent

Touching, discovering you

Those days of warm rains come rushing back to me

Miles of windless summer night air

Secret moments shared in the heat of the afternoon

Out of the stillness soft-spoken words

Say, say it again

I love you always forever

Near and far closer together

Everywhere I will be with you

Everything I will do for you

I love you always forever

Near and far closer together

Everywhere I will be with you

Everything I will do for you

You've got the most unbelievable blue eyes I've ever seen

You've got me almost melting away

As we lay there under a blue sky with pure white stars

Exotic sweetness a magical time

Say, say it again

I love you always forever

Near and far closer together

Everywhere I will be with you

Everything I will do for you

I love you always forever

Near and far closer together

Everywhere I will be with you

Everything I will do for you

Say you'll love, love me forever

Never stop never whatever

Near and far and always and everywhere and every

Say you'll love, love me forever

Never stop never whatever

Near and far and always and everywhere and every

Say you'll love, love me forever

Never stop never whatever

Near and far and always and everywhere and every

Say you'll love, love me forever

Never stop never whatever

Near and far and always and everywhere and everything

I love you always forever

Near and far closer together

Everywhere I will be with you

Everything I will do for you

I love you always forever

Near and far closer together

Everywhere I will be with you

Everything I will do for you

I love you always forever

Near and far closer together

Everywhere I will be with you

Everything I will do for you

James loved Y/n, and Y/n loved James. It was like a match made right down in heaven, with a dark-haired boy and a bright h/c  girl making love right below the sky. Whenever they touched each other, it was like magic. All emotions sparked between them, almost tangible enough for people to actually see. It was like everyone said: they were always meant to be.

tags; @theredheadedwinchester

masterlist