#astronomy fic

[theostrophywife]

kiss with a fist | chapter three.

masterlist 💋 chapters 💋 playlist

pairing: theodore nott x reader.

song inspiration: high enough by k. flay.

author's note: we're well on our way. this is a shorter(ish) chapter, but that just means that you might get the next one sooner rather than later. as always, please enjoy the banter and sarcasm.

Angel’s Trumpet was going to be the death of you. 

You were convinced of it.

The multiple failed attempts to brew the wretched draught hung over you like a pall and followed you into your second week. When Wednesday night finally rolled around, you were in a proper foul mood. You couldn’t even bring yourself to take more than one bite of lasagne, which was usually your favorite. 

Beside you, Luna set the latest copy of the Quibbler down and looked over at you with concern. “Still having trouble with potions?” 

You nodded, sighing in frustration. “It’s this bloody Angel’s Trumpet. I’ve read over the recipe so many times that it’s practically ingrained into my subconscious, but I just can’t seem to get it right.”

Your roommate smiled faintly. “I know,” she said in her breathy voice. “You do come up with some rather creative curses when you’re studying.” 

You smiled sheepishly. “Sorry Loons, have I kept you up with my late night ranting again?” 

“No need to apologize. The wrackspurts are truly doing a number on everyone, not just you. They’re especially rampant during the start of term.” Her dreamy eyes sharpened into something that resembled mischief. “And how are your sessions with Theodore going?” 

The faint smile on your friend’s face told you that she definitely knew more than she let on. Besides you and Theo, Luna was the only person in Hogwarts who knew about your secret little dalliances. She had figured it out rather early on last year when you and Theo kept mysteriously disappearing at the same time. It was a shame that everyone underestimated her. Luna Lovegood was the most astute person you knew. 

You had absolutely no doubt that your secret was just one of many that Luna had uncovered by simply being observant. After all, teenagers weren’t exactly covert even if they were witches and wizards. 

“Miserably,” you finally answered. 

Much to your annoyance, Theo had not let up since the weekend. Day after day, he dragged you into the potions lab with varying disastrous results. Just the other night, the damned cauldron spewed magenta liquid like a geyser, effectively soaking you and Theo in pepto bismol pink like a demented water park ride. No amount of scourgify could wash away the shame. 

Luna laughed. “Pansy said that Theo spent hours scrubbing potion off of his fancy leather shoes.”

“Pansy?” you asked incredulously. “As in, Pansy Parkinson? Since when are you two the best of friends?” 

Your friend shrugged nonchalantly, but you clocked the slight flush in her cheeks. “Don’t worry, I’m not trying to replace you. Pansy and I just have a few classes together, that’s all.” 

You narrowed your eyes in suspicion. “Is she being nice to you? I swear to Godric if she even says one mean thing I’ll stick a broom up that witch’s ar—“ 

Luna held her palms up. “I appreciate the concern, but I assure you Pansy is very nice.” 

That wasn’t entirely convincing, but you trusted Luna’s judgment. As protective as you were over your friend, you knew that she was perfectly capable of handling herself. 

“I just worry,” you said, patting her shoulder. “Those little serpents have teeth.” 

“Oh, I think you’re more familiar with the Slytherins and their teeth than I am.” 

“Loons!” 

She smiled unapologetically. “Speaking of which, here comes your serpent now and he does look poised to bite.” 

You turned just in time to see Theo marching down the aisle with two of his housemates. The curly headed one, Mattheo Riddle, swaggered on his right and winked at you. Flanking Theo’s left side was Enzo Berkshire, who gave you a polite wave. He was by far the most tolerable out of the lot of them. You wholly ignored Mattheo, but acknowledged Enzo with a nod. 

Theo, on the other hand, you openly glared at. “To what do I owe the displeasure?” 

Every head at the Ravenclaw table turned towards your direction. Though your housemates liked to think they were above the petty drama, Ravenclaws were some of the worst gossips in this school. Three Slytherins walking amongst their midst was as juicy as it got. 

Completely unfazed by the attention, Theo slid in next to you on the bench. “Someone’s got their wand in a twist.” 

You flashed him a saccharine smile. “I’ll twist more than just your wand if you don’t leave me the hell alone, Nott.” 

Mattheo smirked. “Oh, I like her.” 

The glare you shot his way was full of venom. “The feeling is not mutual.” Enzo fought a smile as Mattheo gaped. You ignored the both of them and turned back to Theo. “Who are they supposed to be? Your cronies?” 

“Merlin, she never truly lets up, does she?” exclaimed Riddle. 

Theo grinned. “You have no fucking idea, mate.” His expression faltered when he saw the ire dancing in your eyes. “Right, I know that look. Leave us before she decides to turn you two into toads.” 

The boys reluctantly backed away. Beside you, Luna followed suit but winked behind her shoulder as she left the Great Hall. Luckily, Theo’s back was turned to her. 

“What do you want?” 

“Glory, riches, power. The usual,” he deadpanned. “What do you think I want? I've been waiting for you at the lab for half an hour.” 

“I can’t,” you said dismissively. “Not tonight.” 

“Oh, yes you can. I’m too invested to give up now. I am going to teach you how to brew Angel’s Trumpet even if it kills me.” 

“I’d prefer to skip the brewing and get right to the fun part.” You didn’t even notice that your bantering had stopped every conversation at your table. Everyone watched as you menacingly twirled your wand. “Shall I buy a new dress for your funeral?” 

Theo smirked, seizing your wrist. He lowered his voice and spoke quietly so only you could hear. “I’d rather see you wear my jumper again.” 

“Let go of my hand and I’ll be sure to turn up to your wake donning your beloved jumper.” 

He sighed in frustration. “I’m serious about the draught, diavolina. We’re trying again. Tonight.” 

“Was my last try not humiliating enough?” 

“There’s definitely room for improvement. Avoiding turning the lab into a slip and slide would be my first suggestion.” His mouth quirked in amusement. Prick. “Aside from that, I think I finally figured out the missing ingredient.” 

“And that would be?”

“Relaxation,” Theo answered proudly. “You’re way too uptight and it’s feeding into your magic, hence all the explosions.” 

You scoffed. “You want me to relax? I have literally never relaxed in my entire life. I came out of the womb stressed about taxes.” 

Theo snorted. “That’s exactly why I’m here. Let the expert teach you, sweetheart. Being relaxed means being confident and being confident means success.” 

“You do know that confidence and arrogance are two different things, right?” 

“Do you want to brew the bloody potion or not?” 

The fact that Theo was the one motivating you to do school work was only slightly despairing. “Fine,” you conceded. “Teach me how to relax, oh Great Master.” 

“Tucking that away for names I’d like for you to call me in bed.”

“Pervert.” 

“Don’t slut shame me, Y/N. We all have our kinks.” 

“Great. Mine is committing acts of violence against snarky Slytherins.” 

“This snarky Slytherin rather enjoys your acts of violence. Especially if it involves your smartass mouth on mine.” You flushed in response, which only made Theo smirk in satisfaction. “Now, come. We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us.” 

The Astronomy Tower was the last place you expected Theo to take you to. He didn’t really strike you as a stargazing type of guy, but then again, you probably didn’t strike people as the type of girl who slept with her academic rival out of spite. 

Maybe you both had layers. Layers upon fucked up layers. 

The thought almost made you laugh hysterically as you silently watched Theo transfigure his robe into a blanket. He laid it gently across the wooden floor and beckoned you over. “Sit,” he said simply. 

“This is awfully romantic of you. You take a lot of girls up here, Nott?”

“Only uptight little Ravenclaws who’d rather vex me to death than enjoy a stunning view of the stars.”

You snorted. “Sorry to disappoint.” 

He rolled his eyes and patted the spot next to him. “Sit. I won’t ask again.” 

To be fair to Theo (a statement you never thought you’d make), the stars were stunning tonight. You sat cross legged on the blanket and watched as constellations twinkled in the horizon. If you were up here with anyone other than the present company, you might’ve found it rather nice. 

But alas, this was Theo you were talking about. It was only a matter of time before he ruined it somehow. Probably with a lascivious comment. 

“Why are you sitting like you’ve got a stick up your arse?” Bingo. “Even more than usual, I mean.”

“Maybe you’re the stick up my arse.” 

“Don’t joke, darling.” Theo quipped, placing a hand over his chest. “You know I’ve been asking for months.”

“Do not make me push you over that railing, Theodore.”

“Jokes on you, I find your threats incredibly arousing. I’m pitching a tent in my trousers just thinking about it.” 

You rubbed your temples. “How is irritating the shit out of me supposed to be relaxing?”

Theo grinned, reaching into his pocket. “Because, I have this.” 

With a proud smile, he produced a tightly rolled blunt. 

“That’s your big idea?” you asked, wrinkling your nose at the joint. “Taking me to the highest tower in the castle and getting higher than a hippogriff so we can potentially fall down the stairs and break our necks?”

“It’ll help with your nerves.” 

“The only thing wrong with my nerves is that you’re always on them.” 

He smirked, sticking the joint between his lips. “You’re deflecting. What’s the matter, diavolina? Scared to partake in the devil’s lettuce?”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh for fuck’s sake, give it here.” Theo’s eyes widened as you took the joint from his mouth and stuck it in yours. “Well? Are you going to light me up or not?”

He shook his head in mild disbelief before pulling a lighter out of his pocket. You squinted at the silver Zippo, which had initials engraved on the front. The writing was too faded for you to read.

“I got tired of Mattheo stealing my lighters,” he explained. “This way I don’t lose track of it.”

The initials weren’t what surprised you. It was the fact that Theo even had a lighter in the first place. Most wizards just used magic to conjure fire. They certainly didn’t go around carrying muggle inventions in their pockets. It almost made you feel like you were back home in London, bumming a cigarette off some drunk after a night out in the pubs. 

“Why not use incendio?”

Theo shrugged. “An irritating know-it-all once told me that not everything has to involve magic.”

It was strange to hear him echo your words. 

None of it made any sense. Theo would’ve had to venture into a muggle shop to buy that lighter, which was unheard of for a pureblood. Especially not one whose family was part of the now disbanded Sacred Twenty-Eight. The idea of Theo walking around Camden Market to purchase a Zippo was more disorienting than the drugs. 

This little discovery did not line up with what you thought you knew about him. You squinted at him in the dim light, inhaling deeply. The smoke filled your lungs and clouded your senses. Yet one question remained even as you exhaled. 

Who the hell are you, Theodore Nott?

Sensing your gaze, he watched with a small smirk as you passed the joint over to him. It seemed impossible for the drugs to be taking effect so soon, but you found yourself mesmerized as Theo took a long drag. Smoke curled around his mouth as he leaned back on his elbows, tipping his head back to gaze up at the moon. 

“Why the Astronomy Tower?” you asked after a few moments. 

Theo shrugged. “It’s nice up here. Quiet. It helps to get away from the noise.” 

“Strange. I’d become convinced that you sometimes speak just to hear the sound of your own voice.” 

A set of dimples appeared on Theo’s cheeks. On anyone else, it might’ve been endearing. “Close. There’s also the added bonus of annoying you.” 

You didn’t try to stifle your laughter. “Yes, I suppose that sweetens the deal.” 

The two of you sat in silence, passing the joint every so often and quietly contemplating the stars. The absence of noise was jarring. You couldn’t remember the last time that you weren't surrounded by noise. Ravenclaws were a chatty bunch. Whether you were exchanging the newest piece of gossip or bragging about academic achievements, there was always this constant exchange of information. 

Your brain was hardwired to process input. Without it, you felt sort of like a toddler who had just gotten their comfort blanket ripped away from them. 

“Stop fidgeting, Y/N,” Theo commanded with his eyes closed. “You’re supposed to be relaxing.” 

You frowned, picking at your nails. “I don’t think it’s working. Either your drugs are rubbish or my neurosis is canceling it out.” 

He opened one eye lazily. His body language was languid, like he was floating through air. You envied him for it. “Just take a deep breath and empty your mind.” 

“I know that may be easy for someone whose thoughts are typically vacant, but I’m not wired that way. I can’t just turn off my thoughts.” 

Theo sighed and propped himself up on his elbows. He stared at you for a second before his eyes lit up with realization. “Of course. I’m so stupid.” 

“No argument there.” 

He rolled his eyes in response. “I’m trying to get you to relax the Theo way when we should be doing it the Y/N way.” 

“What does that even mean?” 

“Think of the one place in the castle where you feel most at peace.” 

You cocked your head, contemplating. The answer came to you in an instant. “Okay. I’ve got it. What now?” 

Theo rose to his feet and offered you his hand. “Lead the way, diavolina. Show me how the chronically neurotic unwinds.”

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[littlewinnow]

Testing out new brushes! Mybe au where draco works with star creatures

[underwittingly]

midnight rendezvous

[a-reverii]

▸ WRITTEN IN THE STARS⌇regulus black.

› pairing ━ ꒰ regulus black x shy!reader ꒱

› in which ━ ꒰ two almost-strangers meet one another by coincidence, and find that they may have more in common than they initially thought. ꒱

› content warning ━ ꒰ light flirting ; angst (?) ; basically no warnings. mainly just two people chatting. very slightly ooc regulus, ig (just has to do w/ his views), etc. ꒱

› word count ━ ꒰ 3 . 2k ꒱

━━ ( navigation ) ( masterlist ) ( request )

A YAWN PASSED THROUGH your tired lips as you gently laid yourself down onto your soft bed, slipping underneath the covers as to protect yourself from the cold air of your dormitory. Your eyes fluttered shut as you awaited for a peaceful slumber to consume you — one that never did.

It was rather impressive — impressively idiotic, that is, that you could spend an entire day wishing that you were asleep, but once your body was given a comfortable bed and the silence needed to do so, you felt more awake than you ever had over the long course of the day.

It was for this very reason that you found yourself now sauntering about the halls of Hogwarts, a book held snuggly between your chest and your arms. It was already nearing midnight by the time you'd decided to leave your dorm, coming to the conclusion that, if you could not sleep, it was better to appreciate the night for what it was worth.

Though you were able to remain relatively quiet, the halls seemed to resound with the sound of your footsteps. You'd never been one for breaking rules. Even now, you found yourself pausing to listen for any sounds that would indicate the presence of another, in the case that a professor, too, was wandering the halls. Though it didn't make very much sense — after all, the teachers required just as much rest as the students — you were at times convinced that some of the professors never slept.

Not that you could blame them. There was no doubt that many of the students in Hogwarts were skilled in the art of troublemaking.

You hadn't even realized that you'd entered a classroom until you noticed the faint flickering of a candle's light, sending some of the shadows dancing along the walls. Moonlight bled in through the large window that occupied the majority of the tower's walls, casting a faint silver hue throughout the room. You'd entered the Astronomy Tower, and it seemed as though you were not alone.

Before you sat none other than the silver-eyed, raven-haired boy by the name of Regulus Black, his eyes trained on a novel in his hands.

You knew of Regulus. Though you'd seldom spoken to him outside of the context of classes, it was common knowledge that he was the younger brother of the notorious Sirius Black. He was a reserved boy, not unlike yourself, but a stark contrast to his brother, and exuded a certain coldness and respectability. You often noticed him reading in the library or even in the few classes the two of you shared, sitting by himself or with his small group of Slytherins.

"I haven't seen you up here before."

You jolted at the unexpected voice. Lost in your own thoughts, you had deliberately failed to notice that Regulus was no longer consumed by his book, and was instead staring directly at you.

"I'm — I'm sorry?"

"No one usually comes up here — not at this time, at least," the boy explained. "I didn't expect to have any company."

"O—oh." You replied, pursing your lips. "I could... leave, if you'd like?"

Regulus shrugged, his eyes returning to the pages of his book. "You don't seem like you'd be much of a bother."

You nodded, awkwardly looking back at your own book, not yet having decided where to sit. You were unsure if he wanted to continue talking with you or if he wanted to be left to his solitude, so, after some thought, you situated yourself some good distance across from Regulus, not so far that the two of you could not converse but not so close that you or he would feel compelled to do so.

"You're in my potions class."

Startled yet again by the sudden statement, you looked up from your novel to find Regulus watching you carefully.

"I am," you breathed.

Regulus nodded to himself thoughtfully, and you could swear that a ghost of a smile danced along his lips.

"I remember, now. Y/n, isn't it? Slughorn has a certain fondness for you. He complains of your absence at his dinner parties."

"He does?"

"Nearly every time."

You considered his words. "I've — I've never been very interested in the prospect of attending one. Are they... any good?"

"They're dreadful."

Your brows furrowed. "Why do you go, then?"

"My parents would never let me refuse such an opportunity."

You could understand this. You supposed the only reason you were able to spend your nights without Slughorn's presence was because you had never told your parents of the invitation in the first place. Though, you suspected that even if you had, you would still find some way to avoid the dinners. Social gatherings were never something you particularly fancied.

"That makes sense, I suppose."

The two of you maintained a prolonged eye-contact, before you inevitably looked away, deterred only by the impenetrable nature of his stare. You could feel, however, that Regulus's eyes did not falter from you, and you tried to ignore his piercing gaze by focusing on your novel.

"You're reading Pride and Prejudice?" Regulus then questioned after some time, one brow raising in what appeared to be curiosity.

"You know of it?"

"I've read some muggle literature. I haven't read it myself, but I most certainly have heard of Jane Austen."

"You've — you've read muggle literature?" You echoed, utterly bemused. Though you didn't normally assume such things, you'd never imagined that Regulus Black, known Slytherin and blood-purist, would find any interest in literature that was not written by someone of magical descent.

"When I find myself alone, yes, I occasionally give it the benefit of the doubt."

You stared at Regulus, quite nearly impressed.

"I don't believe I've ever heard of a pureblood that willingly reads non-magical literature, even fiction."

He offered you something akin to a half-smile. "Well, I am not as tasteless as the rest of my family. I don't believe one needs to be of magical descent to be skilled in the art of writing." He paused. "Speaking of, you know of them?"

"Well, I — everyone knows of the Blacks, don't they?"

Regulus shrugged. "I suppose they do."

A silence followed, and although a certain tension was present, the quiet was not entirely unbearable.

"Why have you come up here so late?" He asked you after a few beats.

"Couldn't sleep," you replied simply. "You?"

"I needed some time to think. I find that this tower is the perfect place to do so, when not filled to the brim with students and teachers."

You felt the beginnings of a smile tug at your lips. "It truly is."

Your eyes fixated upon the night sky, and a quietness settled oncemore.

Some idle conversation passed after this, coupled with even more silence, but the quiet was not unenjoyable. You’d always quite liked silences — they always made thinking much easier, but your appreciation of them seemed to be enhanced in the boy’s company, something you would have never suspected. To be fair, however, the mere fact that you had any company at this hour was something that you would have never guessed would happen.

"I should head back to my dorm," you then said, getting up in a rather abrupt manner. You did not know why you did so. You weren't yet tired, but you felt a sudden need to return to the safety of your bed — felt it suddenly and quite intensely.

“So soon?” Regulus didn’t seem too troubled by your potential departure despite his words, his eyes wandering over to the book in his hands and his expression so perfectly indifferent. You couldn’t tell exactly why, but you felt a certain sadness at the thought of him not caring, not that you could very much blame him if he didn't. He hardly knew you. 

“I just remembered that I have an exam in Herbology. I don’t want to be any more tired than I should be.”

The lie rolled easily enough past your tongue, but you knew that Regulus could tell that what you were saying was not the exact truth as he nodded and leaned against the wall, narrowing his eyes upon you for all but a moment before opening his book. 

You stared at him for perhaps a moment too long before you made your leave. 

“Wait.”

Your footsteps came to a halt just as you reached the doorway. You turned. 

“Come back,” Regulus said, and you felt your eyebrows knit together at the statement. “If — if you cannot sleep any other night, come back. Your company is not entirely intolerable, and I come up here nearly every night.”

It was a question in the form of a demand, and you could tell such by the way Regulus seemed to shift awkwardly in his spot, his eyes holding something indescribable behind them. Nervousness, perhaps. It was odd. No one had ever acted nervous around you before. 

“If I am ever particularly energetic,” you agreed, before disappearing into the hallway. 

* * *

You thought of that night for the rest of the week. 

Your mind mulled over every word spoken, every moment of silence that the two of you had shared. You had little idea of why this very interaction occupied your thoughts in such an obsessive manner. It was a mere coincidence that you had found and spoken to Regulus; nothing more. Still, some small part of you hoped it wasn’t. 

It was, in hindsight, rather foolish that you forgot that you and Regulus shared Herbology among other classes. When you lied, for some strange reason you were under the impression that Potions was your only class in common. 

If Regulus was angry or annoyed, he didn’t show it — only shot you some small, knowing smile when your eyes met that made your stomach turn. He did not make any effort to speak or interact with you, and this made you feel all the more guilty — you didn’t want to make him think that you disliked him in the slightest. If anything, his presence had been refreshing. 

Other than this, classes went on as they usually did: slowly, painfully. 

It wasn’t until the next week that you decided to return, figuring that the only remedy to what was now your inability to think of anything but school and of the Astronomy Tower was by returning to it. 

Your footsteps echoed throughout the room, quiet but loud all at once. 

You’d be lying if you didn’t admit that Regulus looked somewhat surprised at the sight of you. It was, perhaps, wishful thinking that he then smiled, but he was undoubtedly startled by your presence, and at this you felt a certain satisfaction. 

“Hi,” you greeted, not very sure of what else to say. You always found that interactions with just barely acquaintances and almost-friends were more difficult than those with strangers. A lack of familiarity was something that was in itself familiar to you, but a small amount of such was something you were much less used to. 

“Hello,” Regulus responded after a moment. “Trouble sleeping?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I could.”

Regulus nodded.

Though there was some initial awkwardness, it was soon mollified by a steady stream of conversation, ranging from topics that evolved from trivial things to what could have perhaps been considered philosophical discussions — not that you disliked this in the slightest. In fact, you were beyond glad to have someone to speak to on topics that transcended the simplicity of day-to-day life.

From that night on, you found yourself, much to your dismay, only thinking more of Regulus, of your discussions. However, you couldn't bring yourself to stop your visits. Instead, you allowed them to become part of your routine. Visiting Regulus soon became something you expected.

* * *

"Are you usually this quiet?"

Regulus's voice startled you out of your thoughts.

"Sorry?"

"Well, and I don't mean for you to take any offense, but you are awfully quiet. And considering my own nature, that's especially odd for me to say."

You pursed your lips. You'd always known yourself to be quiet, but remaining so made you the most comfortable. Besides, idle conversation and small talk had never been a fortitude of yours.

"I have a loud mind."

Regulus hummed at this, and your heart skipped a beat at his next words. "Would I hear it if I got closer?"

"Maybe.”

Regulus took a seat beside you and leaned against the wall, admiring the stars.

A silence ensued, one in which the two of you merely gazed at the stars, appreciating the way they flickered from bright to brighter, expertly illuminating the night sky.

"Are you any good at Astronomy?" Regulus then inquired, his voice piercing through the quiet.

"I like to think so. When I was... when I was young, I always wanted to learn about the stars." You sighed contently, bending your knees so that you could rest your chin against them. "Are you?"

"My parents didn't name me after a star with the expectation that I'd be bad at it."

You hummed in response, before you felt a smile curve your lips, and eventually your giggles filled the air.

"What?" Regulus asked, a bemused smile on his visage.

You allowed your laughter to dissipate before you spoke. "I'm sorry, it's just — I just realized that it's rather ironic, that your name is Regulus and you just so happen to be in the Astronomy tower this late at night, every night."

Regulus, at this, felt his smile grow, until peals of laughter too fell from his lips and danced with yours. He liked your laugh, he thought to himself.

It wasn't even something that was particularly funny. Ironic, yes, but nothing to warrant this fit of laughter from the both of you. You had, in all honesty, no true understanding of why this affected you so, but you mused that it may have had something to do with your company.

When your laughters finally quieted down, a comfortable silence settled, and you couldn't help but steal a glance at Regulus, at the way his eyes squinted and his lips curved so perfectly when he smiled — a true, unbridled smile. And for one brief, foolish moment, you mind toyed with the idea that he may have been one of the most beautiful boys you'd ever seen. You didn't allow the thought to mingle in your mind, however, as he opened his eyes and spoke.

"Do you not find it difficult, being by yourself so often?" Regulus then questioned suddenly, pausing.

"I — I see you in the halls or during feasts occasionally. You never seem to have very much company, or when you do, you never seem to be engaging in very much conversation."

He noticed you. You didn't know why you felt so struck by his sudden statement. Perhaps it was the question itself, one that you'd so often asked yourself, sitting in your dorm or in the library, so close yet so far from everyone else. Or, perhaps it was because he saw you, someone he'd never before talked to outside of the safety of these nights, where social standings meant virtually nothing — that even though you often thought yourself to be so, you weren't nearly as invisible as you thought.

"I... I will admit, it can be lonely, at times, being alone. I mean — I do like being by myself, but I don't fancy being alone as often as I am. I think... I think, though, that it can be just as lonely as having superficial friendships or relationships where you don't really like each other, but you're just staying together for comfortability or for fear of change. I just so happen to not spend my time trying to nurture something that I know will never truly grow."

Regulus hummed at this, his eyes wandering back to the stars. He then closed his eyes, and you admired the way the silver light of the moon seemed to make his skin glow.

"Now that I'm thinking of it, I don't think I quite like my friends."

"You don't?"

He shook his head. "In fact, I don't believe I'd have any if keeping up appearances was not important. Every one of them either have an awful nature, or they lack any sort of intelligence."

"Why wouldn't you like them? They sound lovely."

Regulus smiled, and you couldn't help but mirror his expression. "Not nearly as lovely as you are."

Your smile faltered, but then grew as your eyes fixated themselves onto the floor. You wanted to tell him, that though the both of you didn't spend time together outside of the cover of darkness that you also thought that he was lovely, that you wanted to speak to him again the next night, and then the next, and then the next — that you looked forward to seeing him all day, that your heart skipped a beat whenever he sat nearer than usual, that whenever your skin so much as accidentally brushed against his, any doctor in their right mind would think that you belonged in a hospital by the way your heart was racing. That there was just something about him — something so very indescribable that drew you to him.

But you never were very good with words, so you hoped that your heated cheeks and the silence between the both of you spoke loudly enough on your behalf.

"I want you to come to the Yule Ball with me."

At the sudden words, your head shot up to find Regulus staring at you, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"I... what...?"

"My friends are bringing dates to the ball, as everyone seems to be doing, and... I don't believe I'd truly want to go with anyone but you."

You opened your mouth to reply, but felt utterly unable to truly respond the way you wanted to. You so desperately wanted to reply with an exuberant 'yes', but so startled by the statement, you were having trouble expressing this. He wanted to take you to the ball. You hadn't even anticipated going, suspecting that, if you did, it would be alone, or with some friends who already had dates — and you knew better than to third wheel at events such as those.

"I don't want you to feel compelled," Regulus muttered after a moment. "It's merely a proposition. If you don't want to — "

"I do," you then blurted. "I... I would love that — to go with you. To the ball."

Your heart fluttered as a radiant smile curved Regulus's lips, and already you knew it was worth it. If all did not go well — if the ball was not all that you would expect it to be, just his smile made it worth it.

"Brilliant. Well, I'll... I suppose we'll have time to discuss everything else later."

You smiled, breathing a laugh. "Lots, I'd imagine."

You hadn't even realized how very close Regulus sat until you stared at him with a certain twinkle in your eyes, one of amazement and admiration — one that could perhaps turn into something even more.

And then, maybe without realizing it, Regulus leaned forward, you following his actions until your lips met in the softest of kisses.

And, Merlin, was it one of the most tender things you'd ever experienced.

Regulus was gentle, his touch on you electric, and you grinned against his lips as his hand just barely grazed the skin of your cheek, before resting there to support your face.

You, too, were shy at first, but your fingers managed to tangle themselves in his dark curls, something you'd wanted to do for much too long.

You had no idea how long he had been kissing you by the time he finally stopped — hours, minutes, seconds — they were all meaningless in those few, blissful moments. So, before you could think of anything else, you spoke.

"Kiss me again."

And he did.

[edutainer2022]

I made it to Vienna for the week-long Digital Humanism event and I've been meaning to place Earth and Sky in Vienna for ages. This is an absolutely indulgent, decadent, undiluted fluff, full of bosom headcanons, informed by the first Sunday of fall here, drenched in sunlight, late summer flowers and classic German poetry. That's it, that's the story - Scott in Virgil go to Vienna and absolutely nothing hurts.

Thank you always to @janetm74 for putting up with my ramblings.

SUNLIGHT AND POETRY

He could smell the eye-wateringly expensive coffee first. Then the steps, muffled by luscious grass, were followed by a nondescript grunt that probably summarized the general state of the joint World Council, World Bank and GDF committee. An equally obscenely expensive suit jacket was thrown on the lawn unceremoniously to dub as a picnic blanket and, finally, the full length of Scott flopped and stretched beside him, wiggling to get comfortable. A goody bag with a tell-tale Zacher Hotel crest landed in Virgil's lap and he put aside the sketchbook, wasting no time to dig in. Coffee and the most luxurious chocolate cake in the world certainly worked the magic to improve Scott's mood and soon he was grinning up to the sky, although Virgil knew to look for signs of weariness in the corners of blue eyes. He was tempted to return to sketching, though - Scott's relaxed smiles, although in a far more ample supply after Dad's return, were still a rare treat.

Usually, it would be Virgil dragging biggest brother along to Vienna, when Opera was in season or an art exhibition Virgil didn't want to miss - a feat frequently accomplished with toddler-wrangling worthy bribery in form of copious amounts of Austrian finest street food and baked goods or the deployment of most deadly puppy eyes. The exasperated groan signaled that the odorous Wienerwurst from a digny kiosk on the corner of Bristol Hotel was still in the cards that day, much to the hotel staff's (and finest chefs') incessant bewilderment. The Tracies rented the penthouse floor at the historic Bristol, facing Vienna State Opera, for years, the place deemed secure enough by Kyrano Sr. all those years ago. That time, however, it was Virgil who tagged along whole Scott had a week of sessions set up with the Joint Committee of Global Services on the update of interoperable search and rescue policies. Trust Scott to spend his hard carved downtime on redrafting global policies and making the world a better and safer place.

That was just it, Dad having put his foot down (two, actually, and a fist) on IR rota expansion and rearranging operations with A LOT more of their habitual toll outsourced to GDF and local response services, they had more time to pursue their interests and develop their personal strengths. To have a life in an unironic way. But that also meant spending less time together on rescues, even on the island. Scott of course up and found himself the next all-consuming cause, so Virgil was kinda... missing him. Missing his best friend in the way he hadn't since Scott left for Yale, then for AirForce. Maybe it was the ever present thrum of dread over Scott involved in any thing GDF since... That Place... that got Virgil wistful and a bit clingy. Scott, naturally, didn't mind. They were having a great time, actually, reconvening in the afternoons for leisurely strolls, good food and uninterrupted talks about everything and nothing. Virgil treated himself to revising his favorite exhibits at Albertina and Kunst Museum, then took to camping out on sundrenched lawns of Burggarten, sketching statues or people around. He never felt as at home in Vienna as Scott did. Much as their ginger spaceman could fit right in on any red brick Gothic campus, Scott, all towering height and blue eyes, and slim athletic built, and structured suits just MATCHED the stately grandor of old imperial capitals. Virgil always felt too big and too rural American among the understated regal splendor of Vienna. But here, in the landscape informed by art, and the shade of Mozart's monument, and calm, and familial bonding, he was in his element.

Scott was stretching in the evening sun, like a giant cat, and blinking his eyes slowly at Virgil - that definitely called for a sketch.

Chocolate treats were, apparently, Scott not only loot that afternoon. He shifted to the side, wiggled a hand into the suit pocket and produced a small tattered volume. Faded gilded embossing and yellowed pages belied the treasure only found in antique bookshops. Virgil wasn't surprised when Scott started reading. One of the Tracy family best kept secrets was Scott's affinity for classic reading. Passionate, well-spoken and charismatic - Scott was the darling of every AP English class teacher, the Speech and Oratory Team captain and persistently courted for a graduate degree in French Modernism through his Lit Elective at Yale. In a different life Scott would have been an inspirational military leader, a kickass defense attorney or an Office-track politician and public speaker. But a different life had not been in the cards for Jeff Tracy's eldest Son and Heir.

What DID surprise Virgil was Scott settling up to read out loud. In German.

"Wem der große Wurf gelungen

Eines Freundes Freund zu sein;

Wer ein holdes Weib errungen

Mische seinen Jubel ein!"*

And raven brow shot up quizzically and in perfect synchrony the shit-eating grin erupted:

"What?! I'm his brother too!"

"To the point of speaking German?"

The grin faded a shade. Damn.

"To the point of speaking World Bank finance and AirForce parade drills with the old European Uninion Anthem. Schiller's statue is right OVER THERE, I was in the mood."

The returned smile was muted, but mellow. Virgil thought back to an old comedy, "what? like it's HARD?" almost audible in big brother's nonchalant shrug.

Only Scott Tracy would make a point to swing by a rare books shop and get himself a 1820s copy when he felt like reciting Schiller's poetry on a sunny afternoon in the old royal palace park. Virgil certainly hoped that indulgence streak broadened and became a habit.

----

* A stanza from Ode to Joy, Friedrich Schieller

[lulublack90]

Prompt 26 - Aimless

@jegulus-microfic April 26, Word count 682

Previous part First part

Regulus had been about to try and explain his way out of being found at the top of the Astronomy Tower with none other than James Potter as soon as Flich’s head had appeared but James had thrown a thick cloak over them and pressed his hand to Regulus’s mouth stopping him for making a sound. 

James’s hand was warm, so warm it felt as though Regulus’s cold face was burning under it. He inhaled through his nose and wished he’d been able to use his mouth. Having James’s hand so close to him, that golden skin just beneath his nose, made his scent intoxicating. Regulus's mind went blank as they waited for whatever happened next. 

They watched as Filch poked around in the dark crevasses and called out, “Aha!” A few times in vain as he peered into the shadows. 

Eventually, he left, and they were alone again. James pulled out a piece of parchment and scanned it. Regulus couldn’t see what was on it as James kept it angled away from him. Only when James let out a sigh of relief did he remove his hand from Regulus’s mouth and pull the cloak off them. The brisk night air filled his lungs with relief after the near-stifling confines of the cloak. 

“Sorry,” James said as he tucked the parchment back into his robes and bundled up the shimmering material in his lap. Regulus reached out a finger and tentatively ran it down the cloak. His eyes widened, and he looked up at James in amazement. 

“Is that an invisibility cloak?” James nodded at him. “Can I—Can I have a look at it?” He asked, not expecting James to agree, but the boy surprised him and handed it over without a second thought, his face full of trust. 

Regulus let the watery material skim through his fingers and draped it across his lap. His legs completely disappeared. Not even a shimmering outline was left behind. They were just gone. He knew James was watching him, but at this point, he didn’t care.

Reluctantly, he returned the cloak, letting it run through his hands as James took it back. “Thank you.” He said quietly, looking at his hands still tingling from the cloak. Or was it from before when he’d stroked James’s fingers and held his face? He flexed them, trying to get them to behave. 

“Anytime,” James’s voice penetrated his thoughts. 

“Huh?” He said inelegantly. 

“You can see it anytime you want.” James suddenly sat up in excitement. “Hey, what about tomorrow night? We can sneak around the corridors, and I can show you this room me and Sirius found…” And just like that, the spell was broken. The mention of his brother’s name brought him back to his senses. 

He jumped up and fled. Getting as far away as fast as he could.

He slowed down when he’d gotten a few floors below and in an aimless way wandered around the quiet corridors, his thoughts filled with images of James while still keeping alert enough to avoid Filch and his cat. 

He was on the Charms corridor, his eyes scanning the tapestries as he passed them, when he walked into something warm and solid. 

James pulled the invisibility cloak off himself and pushed Regulus up against to wall, pinning him on either side with his hands and gazing deeply into his eyes. 

“Why did you run away?” James whispered, his voice husky and slightly out of breath. Regulus didn’t answer, just stared right back into those warm pools of hazel. James cocked his head to the side as if trying to read Regulus’s unspoken words. He stepped closer, crowding Regulus more against the wall. Regulus felt his breath hitch, and James’s eyes lit up. Before Regulus knew what was happening. Soft, hot lips were pressed against his, and his hands were reaching up all by themselves into messy black hair. The smell of cedar, summer days and bergamot filled his nostrils and mouth, relaxing him into James’s touch, and for the first time, he felt like he was home.   

Next part

[sunfl0w3rmoon]

take me back (to the night we met)

heartwarming, heartbreaking, this jegulus fic is inspired by three things:

The Night We Met by Lord Huron

The Iliad

The 4 month situationship I had when I was 21 that I still haven’t recovered from!

Plz enjoy 🫶🏼

[kitteneddiediaz]

Seven Sentence Sunday

tagged by: @diazsdimples @inell @loveyouanyway @dangerpronebuddie @hippolotamus thank you loves!

So about a week ago I made this post that I did not expect to get as much engagement as it did haha, anyway, I reread it every time I get a notif for it and I thought I reeeeeeeally needed to write something, but in classic Baz fashion I'm incapable of writing just a short little thing, so I guess this is another WIP I've just added to the list. Sorry y'all 😂

It’s a research binge like nothing Buck has ever experienced. Because there’s a difference between going on Wikipedia and looking up a finite list of people who have been hit with a meteor or struck by lightning, because space is endless. It’s hard for him to wrap his head around. Like, learning about Cosmic Microwave Background Radiation and that maybe there’s still universe beyond it? Or how black holes literally warp space around them and dilate time. Or the fact that pulsars can spin fast enough to make 43,000 revolutions per minute, and that’s just of the ones we’ve found. Or, try this one, that there’s 100-400 billion stars in the Milky Way, and that each star is estimated to have at least one orbiting planet - and that’s just in one galaxy; imagine how many planets are out there… with their own unique chemical make-ups and rotations and climates and… yeah Buck’s had a few late nights recently, and everything he’s learned has done nothing but deepen his curiosity about the cosmos.

Taglist below the cut!

tagging some mutuals and also some people that seemed interested in the tags of the original post, but please let me know if you'd like me to not tag you (or add you 😉)

@tizniz @pirate-hunter @laurennnnn21 @aroeddiediaz @steadfastsaturnsrings

@daffi-990 @cranberrymoons @theotherbuckley @wildlife4life @actuallyitsellie

@moonsharky @rainbow-nerdss @elvensorceress @lemonzestywrites @jesuisici33

@watchyourbuck @honestlyeddie-im-bi @evanbegins @spagheddiediaz @firefighterevandiaz

@epicbuddieficrecs @lover-of-mine @sunflower-eddiediaz @caroandcats @drunkeddiediaz

@cowboy-eddie-diaz @pt-soulmate @sunshine-temptresss @adarkermiserablecrow

[ladderofyears]

Bright Star.

“Here’s Aquila,” Draco said, tracing the shape into the air. “Can you see its brightest star? That’s Altair.”

“Erm… An eagle?” Harry asked, trying hard to remember his astronomy lessons. “I can’t see it.”

They lay in the gardens of Grimmauld Place, enjoying the first warm night of spring.

“Use your imagination,” Draco answered, amused. “The constellation over there? Canis Major-”

“The dog,” Harry interrupted, beaming because he finally knew one. “So fast Zeus elevated him to the skies.”

Draco hummed approvingly before going back to his telescope.

Harry looked at his clever, lovely husband, the brightest star he knew.

~

A short drabble I wrote for my lovely friend @iero0 💖

[reggies-fake-horcrux]

star "ever since that night we've been together. lovers at first sight, in love forever. it turned out so right for strangers in the night" chaser

[mastermindmiko]

What a relationship with Draco Malfoy would look like

Pairing: Draco Malfoy + gn!reader

Word count: 394

Summary: head cannons and imagines of what Draco Malfoy would be like in a relationship 

Trigger warnings: none, but let me know if there is any.

masterlist

Requests are open

He adores rings and he will get at least two news ones every week. Whenever you compliment his rings he will give them to you, and when he gives you a ring, he will throw a fit if he doesn’t see you wearing it. He sees it as a way of showing people that you’re his and only his. 

He would never wear a ring from anyone except from his mother and you, other than that he will never wear a ring he hasn’t purchased himself. 

He can never express his words properly and how he is feeling, so he writes them in the form of poetry or he conveys them while he plays the piano. 

He won’t ever let anyone read his personal poetry but on special occasions like; your birthday, Valentine’s day, or your anniversary, he would write you a poem expressing how much he values and loves you.

If you are already in a relationship with him he will not say I love you first, no matter how much he loves you. 

He loves spending time in the quidditch pitch, it’s his other sanctuary other than the astronomy tower. When he starts trusting you he will take you first to the astronomy tower, but when he starts to really love you he will take you to the quidditch pitch. Flying gives him freedom, therefore so does the quidditch pitch, if he takes you there you have every right to feel special.

[slaymybreathaway]

WASTELAND BABY! (Chapter Two)

Chapter List Masterlist Prev. Chapter

Word Count: 3k

Contents: cursing, mentions of catcalling and misogyny, some sibling slagging, intense pining and FLUFFF

September 1994 ○ The Great Hall

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

As the last 1st year student to be sorted made his way over to the Ravenclaw table, Dumbledore stood up out of his seat to the podium. "Now that everyone is settled... I have an announcement to make,"

Over on the gryffindoor table, y/n slept with her head resting on her crossed arms. After being up since 7am and not being able to sleep all last night, she couldn't keep her eyes open. Neville, who was sitting beside her, gently tried to shake her awake.

"Here, Longbottom that's no use. If death eaters bombed the school, she'd sleep through it," Seamus laughed from across the table, from where he was sitting between Dean and Ron. He took a couple of Fun Snaps out of his robe pocket and threw them down on the table, exploding beside his sister's ear.

Y/n woke up in shock, her heart racing at the loud noise that disrupted her sleep. As she took in her surroundings and noticed that half the table had turned their heads at the sound of the loud noise, her face turned a deep shade of red.

She gave her brother a hard kick to the shin under the table, which turned his raucous laughter into a shout of pain.

Y/n smirked at this as she turned to listen to the headmaster.

"This castle will not only be your home this year, but home to some very special guests as well," Dumbledore spoke to all of the students. "You see, this year Hogwarts has been chosen to host the Triwizard Tournament"

Excited chatter spread across the whole room as Dumbledore explained the event. Every triwizard champion in history became rich and famous afrer winning the tournament, and every student wondered if it would be them this time round.

"What'd you think the chances of me winning are?" Ron asked, to no one in particular. While the whole group resisted the urge to laugh, Y/n took it upon herself to answer him.

"About as the same probability of me getting picked as quiddich captain," she shrugged. It was no secret that her athletic skills were very limited. The only time you'd ever catch Y/n Finnegan running was if Voldemort himself was chasing her.

No one heard her joke, however, because as she spoke the doors of the great hall swung open to reveal about a hundred girls dressed in baby blue school uniforms. They moved, in a way that could only be compared to floating, down the middle of the great hall, gracefully greeting the crowd every few paces.

Every single one of the girls was breath-takingly beautiful, the kind of looks that would make you insecure. This observation clearly wasn't missed by all of the boys in the room, who were entranced by the scene infront of them. Sounds of over-the-top clapping and obnoxious whistling filled the air as the boys showed their appreciation to their schools' new guests. Even Neville had stood up to get a better look what was going on, the palms of his hands turning red from all of the clapping.

Y/n, Hermione and Ginny shared a look of uncomfortable disgust. It seemed all of the girls seated at the house tables were feeling the same thing, as they clapped quietly from where they sat, unable to meet the eyes of their male peers once they sat down.

After greeting Madam Maxine, the headmistress of Beauxbatons, Dumbledore returned to his place behind the gold podium at the front of the hall. "And now... our friends from the North. Please greet the proud sons of Durmstrang and their headmaster, Igor Karakoff,"

The doors of the great hall swung open once more to reveal a crowd of boys dressed in a brown uniforms, their hair tightly cropped to their scalp. They marched down the centre of the great hall, doing tricks with the wooden staffs they held in their hands.

Y/n elbowed Hermione in the side and shot her a smile as she recognised the face of the final Durmstrang student to walk in, Victor Krum. At the Quiddich World Cup, the girls realised that they both found him quite attractive.

"Look y/n, it's your fella," Seamus smirked over the shoulder at his sister, knowing what her opinions were about the Bulgarian seeker. The only reply that he recieved was his sister's two fingers in the air, telling him to fuck off.

Neville turned to face her, eyebrows raised. "Your fella?" He shot her a joking smile.

"Don't mind him, I don't know what he's on about," Y/n replied, before shooting Seamus a dirty look. She really didn't want the whole of Hogwarts to know about her celebrity crush.

○

Y/n lay in bed, staring at the leather-strapped watch that adorned her wrist. All of the other girls in her dorm had fallen asleep hours before and now it was just her that remained awake. She watched the thin, second hand tick slowly forth until it met both of the other hands at 12. Midnight.

Slowly, the girl pulled back her duvet and sat up, trying her best not to wake Lynott who was curled up asleep on the end of her bed. She laced up her black Doc Martens over her fluffy socks, and pulled a dark green hoodie, embroidered with the crest of her local quiddich team, Kenmare Krestals.

Y/n crept out of her dorm room, making sure not step on the creaky floorboards that she had memorised the location of sometime between then and first year. Just as she was about to head down the stairs the common room, she stopped herself and turned around, walking down the corridor to the section with the 3rd year girls' dorms.

She opened one of the doors just enough for her to enter, the light from her wand illuminating the floor as she quietly snuck over to the bed that her best friend peacefully slept in.

Ginny's red hair was splayed across the pillow, limbs tangled in the red and gold duvet. Her mouth hung slightly open, releasing light snores that circled the, otherwise silent, room.

Y/n smiled to herself, she knew that Ginny would be the one to fall asleep. She shook the girl lightly to try and wake her "Gin?" "Ginny wake up, it's midnight,"

The red-headed girl stirred and slowly opened her eyes, jumping in fright when she saw y/n standing over her in the darkness, looking a bit like the grim reaper. "What're you doing here?"

"You fall asleep every year," she chuckled lowly before throwing Ginny the knitted jumper that was laying ontop of her trunk. "It's midnight, c'mon,"

At those words Ginny quickly got out of bed in a rush. "Shit already? I swear it was just lights out?" she whispered.

Ginny quickly pulled on a pair of socks and runners, not bothering to tie the laces as she tucked them down the sides. She then tugged the jumper over her head and rolled up the sleeves to make it fit. It was one of George's old Christmas jumpers, but she got away with wearing it since they had the same first inital.

"Let's go, they're probably waiting for us," y/n spoke. They followed the light from their wands as they made their way out of the dormitories, trying to be as quiet as possible to not wake McGonagall, who's quarters were located at the end of the hallway.

As the girls reached the common room they spotted Neville, sitting on one of the couches as he waited for them. He lay back comfortably, his eyes closed as he listened to the music playing from the earphones connected to his walkman.

Y/n smiled, a plan hatching in her head. She knew that Neville wouldn't be able to hear them if they were quiet. She turned to Ginny and put a finger to her lips, letting her know what she was about to do.

She then snuck up behind the sofa where the boy was sitting and hopped over the back, landing beside him. "Boo" she laughed, watching his scared expression slowly turn to a relieved smile.

Neville saw someone appear to the right of him and his heart dropped, thinking someone had caught him out of bed past lights-out. When he saw it was just y/n, he couldn't help but grin at her playfullness and his heart skipped a beat once more. "Hi, I was waiting on you," he replied shyly.

Y/n flung her legs over his lap, and crossed her arms behind her head. "Yeah I know, but I had to wake up this lazy bitch," she nodded towards Ginny with a playful smile.

"Shut up, I'm awake now aren't I?" She responded, from where she was leaning against the back of the sofa, with an over-exaggerated eye roll.

Neville filled with intense embarrasment once he realised that Ginny had been there all along. He was greatly thankful for the dim firelight that disugiused how deeply he blushed when y/n sat next to him. If he wanted this crush to remain a secret, he would have to get better at hiding it.

"We should go. Luna's probably up at the tower already," Ginny pointed out. Y/n agreed and sat up, taking her legs off of Neville's lap.

The trio left the Gryffindor common room and manoeuvred their way to the other side of the castle, checking around every corner to make sure there was np sight of Filch and Mrs. Norris. Eventually, they found themselves climbing the spiral staircase which led to the astronomy tower.

Ginny was right, Luna was already at the top when they got there, looking up at the night sky. Four mugs of tea rested on the safety railing beside her, steam visible in the cold Autumn air. Without turning around, she greeted them all "Hi guys,"

The past few years, the four of them created the tradition of coming up to the astronomy tower at midnight whenever they came back from a school break. It started when Luna had read that there was going to be a meteor shower that night, so the other three went up to watch it with her. Last year, the house elves had realised what they were doing and started to leave tea up there for them.

They all stood beside their blonde haired friend and followed her gaze up to look at the bright cresent moon, surrounding by thousands of stars dotted across the sky. It always seemed that the stars shined brighter while they were at Hogwarts, which probably had something to do with all the magic around the school's grounds.

The group drank their tea and stared up into the sky in a comfortable silence. None of them ever seemed to feel the need to fill quiet moments with small talk, they were more than happy to just enjoy each others presence.

Luna was the first to speak. "We aren't the only one's doing this, you know"

"Hmm? What do you mean?" Neville asked, turning to face the blonde-haired girl. The space between his eyebrows creased in confusion.

"Doing this, looking at the stars." She replied, a smile making it's way onto her face. "I bet that there are other people doing exactly the same thing as we are,"

Y/n considered it for a moment, she had never taken the time to think about how every person saw the same sky at night, counted the same stars. It was comforting to her, in a weird extistential way.

"Yeah, but we are way cooler than those other people," Ginny joked. The others let out silent laughs, which were visible in the frosty air.

○

The group were sat down on the edge of the astronomy tower, their legs dangling off the side. The only thing stopping them from falling off was a metal bar. A cold breeze blew past them, making Ginny shiver and pull her arms around her chest. "Guys, I think I might head back to bed. It's freezing out here,"

Luna nodded in agreement. "I'll come with you, Ginny. I need to return these to the kitchen and thank the house elves," she collected the empty tea mugs into her arms. "Are you two coming aswell?"

Y/n shook her head and put up her hood, to shield her neck from the chilling air of the Scottish highlands. "I think I might stay for a while. I'm not quite ready for bed yet,"

Immediately after she finished her scentance, Neville started to speak. "Y-yeah, me too. I think I'll stay here with y/n" he crossed his arms and nodded, as if it was the best idea in the world.

"Okay" Luna smiled. She hugged both of her friends and walked over to the stairs, her footsteps not even making a sound on the stone floor.

Ginny lingered for a minute longer. She shot Neville a look, in silent question of his odd behaviour, before saying goodbye and disappearing down the spiral staircase with Luna.

Once they had watched their friends fully leave, the pair turned back to look at the view infront of them. From the height that they sat at, they could see everything: the forbidden forest, the black lake, the mountains and even the lights of Hogsmede village in the distance.

"Thanks," y/n spoke. The word cut through the silence, so crisp that they  could almost see it written out in the air infront of them.

"For what?" Neville asked. As far as he remembered, he didn't do anything to deserve a thanking.

"For staying out here with me" she shrugged, turning to look at boy best friend. His overgrown hair moved with the breeze, but it didn't do anything to hide the smile that grew on his face.

Neville turned to face the girl he had been infatuated with for the last month. Before he returned to school he had hoped his feelings were just on account of Summer lonliness, but they haven't gone away, quite the opposite acctually...

"Anytime"

And he didn't mind it one bit.

The pair of them stared at eachother, studying the changes that had occured in the face of the other over the summer.  Y/n noticed that Neville had lost a lot of that child-like roundness to his face, his features slowly sculpting into structure. Neville noticed that y/n had gained a couple of new freckles along her forehead and nose, representing her days spent on the beaches back home in Kerry.

As if they were in sync, both of them looked up at the same time making unexpected eye contact. They were unable to look away, like a deer in headlights knowing it will be killed by a massive lorry if it doesn't move off of the motorway.

Y/n broke first, clearing her throat as she looked down. She could feel her face heating up and hoped she could excuse it on the cold. As her eyes scanned back up, the headphones resting around Neville's neck caught her attention.

"Um- whatchu listening to?" She asked, desperate to change the topic of conversation.

"Here," Neville took the headphones from around his neck, placing them over y/n's ears before pressing play on the walkman clipped to the waistband of his blue striped pyjama bottoms. He watched as her face grew into a massive grin when she recognised the song playing.

"Is this this the mixtape I made you?!" She asked, hearing the last verse of The Waterboys' 'The Whole Of The Moon' through the little orange foam ear pieces.

Neville nodded, "I've been listening to it ever since you gave it to me... it's the only tape I have," he shrugged sheepishly, still flustered from the previous encounter.

Y/n thought for a moment before standing up, dragging Neville onto his feet also. She rewinded the tape back to the start of the song and unplugged the headphones, letting the song's opening drums and keyboard riff flood the top of the Astronomy Tower.

Noticing the look of confusion on the boy infront of her's face, Y/n took both of his hands in hers and started moving them forwards and backwards as she she swayed her hips to the rhythm. She couldn't help but sing as the lyrics began:

I pictured a rainbow

You held it in your hands

I had flashes

But you saw the plans

Neville smiled, she geniunely had such a pretty voice. Once he got into the song he began to sway to the beat.

I wandered out of the world for years

But you just stayed in your room

Neville twirled y/n around and heard and her joyus laughter filled his head. As the next line of the song came in, he joined in with her,

I saw the cresent

You saw the whole of the moon

He had to admit, he wasn't much of a singer but it was hard not to sing along in that moment... which was cut short by a loud shout coming from the outside of the tower.

"WHO'S UP THERE! WHICH ONE OF YOU LITTLE BUGGERS IS OUT OF BED!" The scraggly voice that could only belong to Filch shouted up the tower.

"Fuck!"

NEXT CHAPTER

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[rockstarlwt28]

Lullaby Garden

GA | 29.2K | Fluff | Cute-Kids |

Tarot reader Louis Tomlinson and fortune teller Harry Styles, better known as the Tomlinson's, are the proud owners of a children's home, Lullaby Garden; in the heart of the hilly town of Scarborough. With eight children to keep them on their toes, the pair aren't short of good-hearted family fun.

Written for @1dastroficfest

[beetlethebug]

me, working on my poly mismag fic: yeah it'd be nice if we had a slow burn into the polycule also me: jammer wants to kiss sam so badly right now it makes him look stupid

[edutainer2022]

A little thing riffing off the concept of Scott, probably, getting mistaken for Alan’s father quite often. It turned out sadder than I hoped.

DAD

The loose end of his scarf got tugged lightly and he swiped his hand low to catch baby brother's palm, without shifting attention from the rows of pasta on a stall. Allie had hop-skipped away to the end of the aisle, mumbling something about waffles for dinner, and now probably demanded his immediate input. His hand grasped nothing but thin air. A scarf, however, got another insistent tug.

The scarf was not an eye-wateringly expensive brand-name cashmere that would usually go with his coat and the "Tracy Industries appropriate" look, but was infinitely more precious. Long, blue, hand-knitted and a bit loopholed, it was a gift from Virgil his last Christmas on leave from WAF. It was rediscovered in one of Dad's drawers on the island, apparently a keepsake of the things the GDF returned to the family after Scott himself was lost in That Place. Now it was Scott's keepsake after Dad... A full circle.

Scott peripheral vision detected a movement of blond and skinny far down the aisle, as Allie was, it appeared, reaching up for his waffles. They were in NYC together. Not only the Tracy Industries Board demanded a piece of him for one reason or other, but Tracy Legal and the family private solicitor required tweaks in the custody documentation. Scott took the opportunity to show pre-Christmas NYC to Alan. The boy was only seven when they visited the last time, bar Dad's massive public memorial service Allie barely remembered, wrought with grief. Scott hardly remembered much of it himself through the blur of shock, pain, doubt, and a kind of fatalistic determination. Anyhow, it wasn't a ten years old Alan demanding his attention now. Scott looked down.

A pair of huge grey eyes regarded him from under a gigantic pink bow. A small hand was tugging his scarf again, like a doorbell string. Up from Scott's height the little girl seemed positively tiny. He folded himself down, not to intimidate the child. Even crouching, Scott was still towering over her.

"Hey, sweetheart! Are you lost?"

Attentive eyes regarded him, then a pink clad arm shot out to point at the general expance of the rest of the supermarket.

"Mommy 'der!"

In between Gordy and Allie, Scott was proficient enough in three year old speak. Johnny, it seemed, was communicating at AP English level all the way back at two, or not at all.

The little girl's mom was, obviously, "there" - but nowhere to be seen down the aisle and behind the shelves. Out of a years ingrained habit Scott kept half and eye on Alan, engrossed in comparative analysis of the various boxes of waffle mix. The prudent thing to do wound be to call a store employee - Scott was aware it would send an alarm if he, all of the imposing 6'4, Armani coat and a Young Jeff Tracy face of him, walked away with a little girl. But the nook of the store was empty of anyone in telltale uniform. Huge grey eyes kept regarding him in expectation of some effective Mom-finding action. An idea occurred. Scott bent down some more and made sure to smile.

"Is it okay if I pick you up, sweetie?"

The child gave it a moment's thought and nodded. Scott sprung up easily, the girl securely in his hold, and propped her up on his shoulder. Tiny pink shoes kicked the air (and his ribs a bit) excitedly. There was some enthusiastic waving going on above Scott's head, well above the shelves, and even more delighted squeeing:

"Mommy! Mommy! Look'er! Mommy!"

That produced a young woman with a shopping basket AND Alan, running to him from the opposite side of the isle. He transferred the eager girl into her mother's arms in a fluid motion and reached out without looking again, to stop Allie from colliding with him full force. Alan bounced in place and looked up at him quizzically. Scott put an arm around the boy's shoulders. He saw the mother's eyes widen in surprise, once she was done thanking him for helping out a lost Polly.

"Oh, is he yours? So big already!"

Scott's hand tightened on Alan’s skinny shoulder on instinct. He could see the boy's face shift from curiosity to confusion. And it could be a matter of seconds before confusion gave way to anger or worse - tears.

Scott himself was used to that. He was getting those questions ever since Mom was gone and he had to pick Allie up from nursery after his own classes. Tall for his age, athletic and marred by grief and way too many worries - he was definitely spawning a "teen Dad" rumor among the pick up line Moms and babysitters more than once. He didn't have the energy to explain to anyone not in the know back then, no more than he had the energy to explain their whole situation now.

"Um... Alan is ten. You have a Merry Christmas, Polly! Don't get lost again!"

He could see the math recalculated in an instant behind the young woman's eyes, as she counted silver threads at his temples, stark in supermarket lights, and dark circles under his eyes towards a higher age bracket she thought he was. He wasn't. Dad's explosion in Zero-X and everything that followed added to the silver That Place wove into his hair. And he hadn't been doing much sleeping anymore. He didn't think he ever would again. Before the conversation could lead any further down those lines, he offered another polite smile and steered Alan away toward the exit.

Scott managed to order a hovercab without breaking a stride. The original plan was to walk back to Tracy Tower, maybe look at some Christmas window exhibits. They spent the afternoon gift shopping for everyone back at home and Scott could tell Alan was getting tired. But the boy seemed exited for their special time together, even if part of it was spent in the boring opulence of the family law-firm. Scott promised to cook dinner, not wanting to foster with baby brother his own habit of take-away Tai and more work crunched through the night.

Now, pressed to the window of the cab, small frame leaning away from Scott (a fact that was sending sharp pangs through his chest), Allie was quiet and listless.

"Are you my Dad now?"

Alan was still looking outside the window.

Scott was seriously dreading that conversation, but the incident at the store, apparently, accelerated the inevitable.

He reached a hand to ruffle soft blond hair. Then landed his palm between hunched little shoulderblades. Alan didn't flinch, which was maybe a good sign.

"Allie! Dad is always Dad. But I am your guardian now, and I will do EVERYTHING to protect you! Just as always!"

Small bony shoulders shifted in a sigh. Alan was puffing fog on the glass and drawing shapes with his finger. The hovercab stopped by the entrance to Tracy Tower, but Scott made no move to break the moment and leave just yet.

"Can I call you Dad sometimes? I told Nikky you were my Dad, back in Kansas. Mom didn't come to pick me up, so I didn't want to not have Dad pick me up too, so I told him you were Dad. Is it okay?"

The words came out a bit jumbled and interlaced with pending tears. Huge blue eyes turned to look at Scott finally, anxious and glistening. His own eyes were burning. So was his heart. His very soul.

"Oh, Allie... Of course it's okay! Always!"

His arms opened invitingly and were instantly filled with a crying child. He leaned down to press a kiss on the top of blond head and hug the boy closer, wrapping his coat around a little trembling body. It took a moment to conquer his own heaving sobs, but he still didn't trust his voice at full volume.

"I love you so much, kiddo! I've got you!"

Scott ended up just carrying Alan, quiet by then, but firmly clinging to him, to the penthouse, while a concerned head of security shift helped out with the shopping bags. Allie was probably feigning sleep - Scott didn't care. He toed off his own shoes, shrugged off the coat, settled against his headrest, the child still in his arms, and shifted to tighten his hold. There would be no sleep for him that night either, but that was just as well. He had been watching over little Allie (and little Gordy) since he was born and a tenfold that after they lost Mom. No name or legal capacity could change much about that, till Scott was breathing.

He wasn't anyone's son, though. Not anymore. Not ever. And that made breathing so much harder.

[just-another-star-47]

As in the other subjects, it was mostly a repetition of old material, so the Gryffindor student soon let her eyes wander around the room.

It was blue like the sky after the sun had completely set. Even the last light of the day cooled through the coloured windows. There were nine of them, each representing a phase of the moon, which was at the centre of the decorations.

They were surrounded by an artificial starry sky, painted stars on a blue background that had been made to sparkle and glow on the ceiling with magic.

Below them, a perpetual motion machine rotated on its own axis, bronze-coloured rings woven into a fabric reminiscent of the rings of Saturn, yet strangely abstract due to their interwoven nature. Luscinia watched the perpetual movements spellbound, completely forgetting where she was.

Her thoughts returned to the incident with her cousin and her pulse quickened. She had guessed that a meeting between the two estranged branches of the family would be cool and distant, but she had not expected such hatred. She felt the knuckles of her hand throbbing slightly in pain, but knew that it would soon fade. Hopefully the student with the dark eyes hadn't suffered any injuries. Sebastian was his name, right? An ancient Greek name...

Blinking, she returned to the ever-darkening room as the lanterns lit up, dangling from fixed struts around the perpetual motion machine.

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