#nothing is srs anymore

[purgatory-game]

i think the best part about developing this game is the fact that all our choices and decisions are made after 12am when neither of us are sane enough to be doing this -mat

[fangsforfags]

when making a character, u have to ask urself:

are they bloody?

will they ever be bloody?

is it their blood or somebody elses blood theyre covered in?

why are they bloody?

how drenched in blood are they going to be from a scale of 1-10, with 1 being ''barely drenched'' and 10 being ''so covered we shld ask where there ISNT any blood on them''?

[macabrecravings]

ur fucking joking.

[thingswhatareawesome]

¨

[alphaclxwn]

YA KNOW WHAT FUCK BEING SAD. I DONT OWE ANYONE ANYTHING AND A GAME DOESNT BELONG TO SOMEONE WHO LIKES IT. I WAS BEING A BABY, BUT FUCK THAT. YTTD FANDOM HERE I FUCKING COME. GET READY FOR THE SHEER POWER OF ME.

[outlying-hyppocrate]

do you ever feel like you're trapped inside of a simulation and that everyone is watching you so whenever you're alone you scream as loudly as you can so they might let you out but they never do and so you're essentially stuck here forever or. is that just me

[jardaddy-a]

I FIND THE LANIATURA VERY FUNNY SOMETIMES , considering they’re the race that brought forth every supernatural creatures , legends , and myths in the world of Sanctum Existencia .    Since they hid themselves away in Sanctuaries after the great war between them and the humans , the human’s memories of the Laniaturian race became so distorted due to other ancient Laniaturian magicians muddling up their memories of the Laniatura for protection purposes until it spiraled so wildly that humanity just conjured up whatever myth that existed .   And most Laniaturas aren’t aware that they’re the very creatures that the humans are afraid of . 

Dragons ?   Ghouls ?    Vampires ?    The Fae ?    Yeah , it’s just laniatura , babe . 

The Laniatura look at these myths and they go , Oh man a race that drinks the blood of humans ?   That’s Crazzzzy .    And then they look at the vitae-types that actually drink human blood for sustenance and go ‘ Oh shit , they were talking about us all along ? ? ? ‘ 

[kavehater]

how to kys without krilling yourself ;-;

[gofflesworld]

Wtf is up with these fake p*rn accounts that keep showing up on my dashboard

[newyikecity]

.

[yisschamp]

..

[coco-loco-nut]

Hii!

Can I please ask for an angsty fic with Max, where the reader defends him from Jos after not finishing his race in Melbourne...idk if you remember when Max kept his helmet for four hours after a race because he was afraid of what Jos would have done to him after not winning...and the reader basically tells Jos to get lost even if she's like 5'4 and definitely not as intimidating as them both lol.

And then maybe after the win in Suzuka, they "reconcile" but she still reminds him to act right around her boyfriend, who's now a man and not a little boy he could pressure like he once did.

Sorry if it's too long!! Thanks for taking your time and reading my request!

Guard Dog

Pairing: Max x Reader

Summary: You are sick and tired of watching Max take Jos' shit

TW: verbal abuse

A/n: thank you soooo much for the rec, I love writing these out so much <3

requests open masterlist

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

"Maxie... are you okay?" you wait patiently by the door to his driver's room, careful not to barge in like Jos would, as you have for the past year since you first witnessed Jos' beratement of his son. He is sitting on the couch with his helmet between his hands. The fire causing an unpleasant start to the race, and you are just glad you got here first.

"I'm okay," his voice cracks and you step into the room, closing the door behind you. "I know it wasn't my fault, but I can't help but feel like it was my fault," Max looks in your eyes, the fire brewing behind them. You were genuinely the sweetest girl he's ever met, and to get you mad took a lot. God help you if Jos shows up, you are tired of Max feeling bad even when he podiums.

"You're right, you didn't do anything wrong, the car failed you today," you stay calm, sitting beside him and cuddling into him. Max stays quiet, enjoying your warmth, and decompressing from the start. He can understand why the fans were so happy to see him lose, in fact, if he wasn't himself, he would join them. No, the fear of his father is what has him on edge. Rightfully so, because a few seconds later the door is slammed open again.

"Max, what the hell did you-" Jos starts and you launch yourself off the couch. Jos and Max were big guys, and you were average height for a woman, 5'6 or so, but you didn't seem like it in that moment.

"Shut the hell up and leave. You have nothing useful to say and you are going to shift blame to Max who had NO fault in the DNF," you snarl, setting yourself up as a barrier between the two, Jos still in the doorway and Max on the couch.

"Girl, I don't know who you think you are, but I am Max's father, and I can-," You cut Jos off before he can continue.

"No, you aren't his father. A father doesn't talk to his son like that, you are simply a man who shares the same last name as Max. A father is someone like Carlos Sainz Sr or Lawrence Stroll. No, you are a man- sorry a boy in a man's body- who can't cope with the fact that he doesn't race anymore and wants the man who shares the same last name with him to be impossibly perfect and win every single race, even when the car breaks down." You sneer at the man. "You need to leave, before I call security and make them remove you," you don't back down, instead you step closer. Max watches in both awe and fear.

"I-"

"Leave, Jos, now. Don't make me repeat myself," you say, practically slamming the door behind him. You turn around and look at Max, seemingly calm and normal. He looks at you bewildered.

"That was the sexiest thing ever. Thank you, Schatje, you didn't have to do that," Max hugs you, a large weight off of his shoulders.

"Of course I did, who else will be your guard dog?" You smile at him, squeezing him tighter. "Now, get changed and get back to the garage," you tell Max, stepping out to the room. You let out a deep breath, surprised with how you treated Jos and stood up for Max. A couple minutes later, Max rejoins you, quickly stopping inside hospitality for a snack.

The two of you avoid Jos, going extremely low contact, not that he was trying to. Jos would never admit it, but he was embarrassed at how you spoke to him, and his retreat allowed him to ignore it. Instead, you and Max enjoyed your time together in Japan. The both of you were aware Jos was there, but chose to ignore it. After Max won, Jos warily approached the two of you.

"I wanted to congratulate you on winning. You drove well," Jos says stiffly, silently calling for a truce. You let Max take the lead on the conversation.

"Thank you," he says, feeling like a little boy again, but accepting the temporary truce.

"It was good seeing you Jos, but we need to go," you interject, sensing the still tense atmosphere. The older man, still a little scared of you despite your sweet demeanor, lets you go, not quite willing to cross you again.

"Love you, Maxie"

"Love you too, Schatje,"

[scorpioriesling]

Tight Black Leathers

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Liam x reader

Warnings: SMUT, mdni, 18+

Summary: As Liam's girlfriend, you've been feeling rather... fed up, lately, that he's been ordered to hang out all day with another female. So... whatever will you do about it?

SR’s Note: Ooh, switching it up with a Fourth Wing fic? Okay, okay... and yes of course, Liam is my favorite character from Fourth Wing. No, I still haven't recovered. No, I probably never will. Denial is a river in Egypt-

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

You clicked the power button on your phone once more, checking fruitlessly to see if your boyfriend had responded to your message. Of course, he hadn't -- but you'd expected as much. It was Friday, which meant he was on Violet-duty today, per usual.

With a sigh, you tucked the device into your pocket, zipping it shut as a familiar voice approached behind you.

"Hey Y/N!" Rhiannon's usual bubbly tone made you smile, and she took in your state. Her face softened as she took you in a warm embrace. You appreciated the kindness she offered you -- her friendship was a priceless one you'd made after crossing the parapet. She was one of the only people, other than your boyfriend, who truly understood how hard it was to be a rider when you were meant your whole life to be a healer instead.

"Still haven't heard from him?" She asks softly, releasing you. You shake your head, and she loops her arm through yours, pulling you with her in a cadence down the dormitory hallway.

"Well, there's no point in waiting around doing nothing," she starts. "We may as well have some lunch, hmm?" As if on cue, your stomach gurgles, and you both chuckle at the sound. You truly couldn't be more grateful -- you hadn't eaten all morning.

Entering the cafeteria, you find your squad -- well, most of them. Imogene's unmissable pink hair shakes back and forth as she listens to a ridiculous story Ridoc recounts; Sawyer is laughing at something Bodhi is saying across the table. You can't help but wonder...

"Hey guys!" Ridoc greets Rhiannon and you with a smile, but you only continue to search the tables near you. Imogene folds her arms over her chest, sitting back in her chair.

"He's not here," she says, and you look to her. Rhiannon takes a seat, motioning for you to sit by her, but you only stare at Imogene in hopes she'll keep talking. "Violet took the lunch break to get in extra training time, so-"

You squeeze your eyes shut, head dropping to face the floor. You'd been missing him so much recently, since Xaden assigned him to follow your fellow cadet around like a guardian, you barely saw him anymore. Your own boyfriend. He was spending time with another female. That was really starting to get old.

"Of course." You clip. Ridoc huffs a laugh, and Rhiannon glares at him.

"He's only doing what Xaden tells him-" Bodhi begins, and your eyes slide to his.

"Anymore, I don't really care what Xaden-" Your rage begins to bubble over, and the table falls silent as their gazes drift behind you. Shadows curl around your fists, the cool tendrils working against your warmed skin.

"Care what Xaden... what, exactly? As your Wingleader, I would love to hear you finish that sentence, Y/N." Xaden's lethally calm voice sounds from behind you, and you glance over your shoulder, face falling at the realization. You shake your head.

"I... it's... look, I just think it's a bit much to have Liam following Violet around all day, don't you think? Can't she defend herself?" You ask. His hard gaze on you only intensifies.

"I would say Liam is one of the strongest in this wing, wouldn't you agree?" He asks, and you nod.

"Yes, but-"

"So he will continue to defend what's most precious to me." He says in finality, turning to walk away as you scoff, throwing your hands in the air.

"What about what's most precious to me, huh? I never get to see him anymore because you're always having him whisked away to defend your girlfriend -- isn't that your job!?" You nearly shout. The entire room goes silent, and Bodhi slaps a hand over his mouth. Rhiannon's jaw is practically on the floor, but your eyes are only met with Xaden's searing gaze as he turns to face you once more. He steps close to you, speaking again in his constrained, calm voice.

"I highly suggest you take the rest of the afternoon off, cadet y/l/n. You seem a bit high strung -- wouldn't want you too worked up for the challenges later this evening." The muscle in his jaw ticks as you turn on your heel, beelining for the exit and stomping all the way back to your dorm room.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You know what? Xaden was right. The afternoon off was exactly what you needed before a night full of challenges. You spent the whole afternoon getting yourself more riled up within the confines of your dorm, pacing back and forth and glaring into your mirror. Did you nap? Nope. Try to calm down, do some meditation, maybe? Absolutely not. Perhaps stretch, or read a book so you were at ease before the night began then. Hell no.

You were ripping a brush through your long hair, slamming it down on your desk when you decided the strands were untangled enough. You yanked at the band around your wrist, muscle memory causing your hands to wind your hair into a ponytail atop your head when you catch sight of yourself in the mirror. You glance down at your phone still dark on your desk, and an idea sparks in your mind. Dropping your hands, you run them through the strands a few times before separating the mass into three sections. Since he likes the Sorrengail so damn bad, you thought. Maybe you'd show him you she wasn't anything special. She was just like everyone else here; she was just like you.

Securing the band at the base of the tight braid, you sway side to side, pleased with the result. Pulling on your tightest-fitting leathers and boots, you sheath your finest daggers and head out of your room. Within minutes, you've crossed the courtyard and are in the training center, approaching a mat near the center where you find Ridoc and Bodhi and Rhiannon gathered. Rhiannon turns when Ridoc whistles loudly at you. You lighten your steps on instinct, realizing you're still stomping your way across the mats toward them.

"Ohhhh my, Y/N," she looks you up and down, taking you in fully. You huff a breath, pretending not to notice her stare. Or Ridoc's. Or Bodhi's. Or Violet's...

Or Liam's. From three mats over.

"New tactic?" Ridoc laughs, and you roll your eyes.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Uhhh, distracting your opponent with the tightest black fighting leathers you could find?" Rhiannon giggles, and you scoff, feigning innocence. Bodhi only groans.

"CADETS, attention please!" Emmetario shouts. He stalks closer to the mat you stand before, calling off more pairs for challenges. You and your friends watch as people fight and wrestle match after match. Rhiannon wins her challenge, Ridoc hands Jack Barlowe's ass to him, and your attention snags on the mat a few feet away as a new pairing is called forth. Your perfect, wonderful boyfriend is taking the mat, shucking off his tee and revealing his perfectly toned body, abdominals flexing as he laughs at something Xaden says. He takes a fighting stance as another guy from third wing stands opposite him, and they begin. It's not long before Liam has the poor fella on the floor, tapping out. Being the kind male he is, Liam hops off and helps him up, shaking his hand and offering him a kind smile after they finish their challenge.

As he is exiting the mat, his eyes meet yours and widen slightly, raking over your body as he slowly steps off the platform. They linger on the straps clinging to the curve of your ass, then trail back up to the form-fitting compression shirt you've chosen and his brows knit in confusion when he notices your new hairstyle. You tilt your chin up and flip your hair over your shoulder, just as Emmetario bellows once more.

"Bodhi and Y/N!"

You walk onto the mat, Rhiannon cheering from the sidelines. Bodhi looks to you in silent apology, and you position yourself close to your friend, taking your beginning stance. You can see the worry in his expression, and you glance to your left as Liam, Violet, and Xaden flank the edge of the mat to observe as well.

"Bodhi, it's alright. I know you won't hurt me for real," You say. He grins at you.

"Never." Is all he says, taking his beginning position, not-so-subtly drinking in your form so close to his. You smirk.

"Begin!" Emmetario calls. Bodhi immediately lunges for you, but you're quick and dodge his advance, and he stumbles forward -- you've trained with him countless times, you knew he'd make the first move. You snake to the side, wrapping your arms around his midsection and using your whole body weight to throw yourselves both to the ground. You cry out as you land on your own elbow, and he tries to roll you onto your back. You dig your heels into the ground, fighting with all your strength to stay to the side of him and not let him get on top. He's stronger though, flipping you with his hands around your knees. You plant both feet in his ribs, knocking into him with as much force as you can muster and he falls back with a sharp cry.

The growing crowd winces and you jump to your feet once more, him following suit and clutching his side only for a moment before charging you once more. You crouch; but you're too slow this time. In seconds, his hands wrap around your waist and your thrown over his shoulder, hands smacking against his back.

You know what comes next -- this is the part where your opponent will throw you onto the mat, onto your back, knocking the wind out of you. You won't let that happen; not tonight. You tap into the rage you felt, all day, all week, and unleash it, feeling every feeling all over again.

Anger. You push against Bodhi, his hands losing grip and you tumbling haphazardly down his back. "Keep pushing, Y/N!" Rhiannon shouts.

Hate. You turn, Bodhi's still doubled over. Now's your chance. You run, jump, cling onto him, grabbing his neck and wrapping your legs around his waist-

Jealousy. It was a ploy. He whips you around, throwing you to the mat, hard. You shriek, breath catching in your throat as he holds you down with his forearm. He gazes down at you, his familiar friendly orbs glowing with warmth as he shifts uncomfortably above you.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Y/N, but... I'll be damned if anyone ever climbs me like a fuckin' tree-" the words die in his throat as your red-hot emotions dissipate, laughter rising and breaking free past your lips as he chuckles along with you.

"I don't care! I said she's done!" The sharp tone has your gaze turning to the left, the crowd making way as Emmetario calls after the tall male entering the mat and heading straight for you. In seconds, Bodhi's weight is completely lifted off of you and you suck in a breath of full, delightful air.

"Yep, and you can stay the fuck off of her, thank you very much," Liam gripes, bending down to grasp both of your hands in his and pull you up. You gasp as pain blooms in your back, and he begins leading you off the mat, away from the crowd. Toward the exit.

"Liam... Liam... I didn't tap out; my challenge wasn't over-" you stutter. He turns, his raging blue eyes narrowed on you. Yours widened in shock as you register an emotion so rare, especially for him you almost missed it.

Sadness.

"Trust me. It was over."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

"Liam, it's only a bruise, it'll be healed in a few-"

"He shouldn't have been man-handling you like that."

You stare at him, pacing back and forth in your dorm room from the bed where you sit. He half carried you back here a half hour ago, ending your challenge early and ignoring orders from a professor in the process. Now he seemed all worked up over your injuries, which were rather minor, at that.

"Like what, exactly? Liam, I've trained with Bodhi a million times. I know he would never hurt me. Not for real, anyways." You say, and Liam meets your gaze. His deep blue eyes are as dark as the midnight sea, only illuminated by the candle lights in your room. He chews on his bottom lip, halting his pacing.

"He trains with you?" He asks quietly. You scoff incredulously, fiddling with the band at the end of your braid and loosening the strands.

"Yeah? He's my friend, Liam. I have to have someone to spar with, right? It's not like my boyfriend is exactly... available..." you trail off, casting your eyes toward the floor. You finish undoing your braid, the strands hanging in loose waves over your shoulders. His brows knot in confusion.

"Y/N, what are you... what do you mean?" he walks close, kneeling before you, placing his hands on your knees. His face is level with yours, and Gods damn you if you don't want to kiss him-

"You know I'm always here for you Y/N..." he says softly. You meet his gaze, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth to keep it from quivering.

"Liam... I barely even see you anymore." Oh boy, here we go. "You always have to be with... with Violet... and if I do see you, it's never in our own privacy... I never just get you alone, to myself..." you trail off. He presses a soft kiss to your knee, and you praise yourself for changing into shorts and one of his big shirts when you returned earlier.

"Baby... you know I just have to hang out with Violet for now, just because of all the attacks and such, but," he places another soft kiss further up your thigh, and you feel your pulse quickening by the second. "...you have me alone... right now, right?" He asks sweetly, his eyes meeting yours again. You lean back on your elbows, and though his tone is sweet, the lust swirling in his irises tells a different story. You nod wordlessly, and he continues moving up your body, softly pushing up the hem of your shirt with his fingertips. His eyes remain in contact with your as he plants soft kisses up your abdomen, the muscles flexing as you fight to remain calm under his searing touch.

He pulls back, lips curing into a wicked grin as his eyes waver to your waistband, and he hooks a finger under the seam.

"If you wanted to be... man-handled... you could have just... asked." He says, your eyes widening at his words. Heat pools between your thighs, the incessant need for your boyfriend to ravage you only growing with every passing second he teases you. He chuckles, slipping a hand beneath the bands of both your shorts and underwear and wasting no time sliding a finger through your folds, easily gliding through the slickness. His lusting gaze meets yours again, and his free hand pushes himself closer to you on the bed.

"Mmm... you really have been missing me, haven't you?" You nod, looking up at him doe-eyed and innocent. He shakes his head, cupping your jaw and running a thumb over your lower lip while continuing to tease your leaking heat with his other hand.

"Such a good girl... I haven't been around as much as I should, have I." He says it more to himself, his forefinger circling your entrance and you rock your hips forward, aching for more.

"I haven't been as good of a boyfriend lately, and I'm sorry for that, okay?" He cups your cheek, and you meet his gaze.

"Liam... please..." you beg.

"Let me make it up to you?" He asks. Your nod of confirmation is all he needs as he slips both his index and middle fingers in -- knuckles deep. You gasp, jolting forward a bit and he pulls out, reinserting and driving them back in again. You bite out a moan, leaning back on your hands and looking up into his eyes. He's smirking down at you, drinking in every inch of your complexion as he massages that spongy spot inside of you.

"Liam..." you chant. "Liam, oh... my..... please-" He rises from his knees on the floor, continuing to curl his fingers inside you, to hover over you. He cuts off your whimpers with a beautiful, bruising kiss that is both sloppy and salivating. A mix of tongue and teeth clash as you make out with a primal need, his teeth finding your swollen bottom lip and playfully latching on. You groan once more, feeling the warm band in your stomach tightening.

"Gods I'm... I'm so-" Liam retracts his fingers and you groan, his lips finding yours again. He shucks his trousers off, kicking his boots off moments later. He breaks the kiss, yanking his shirt over his head and pulling yours off after, your bottoms following. Laying bare before him, he breathes deep, loosing his breath through the nose as he hovers overtop of your naked form.

"Y/N, you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen," he says sweetly. You blush, even though this is the hundredth time you've had sex with the man and probably the hundred millionth time he's called you pretty. You feel his hard on grounding against you, and you wiggle your hips, only creating more friction. Liams hand meets your hip, holding firm.

"Tsk tsk," he says, kissing your nose. His hand snakes between the two of you, his knuckles brushing against your pelvis making you shiver. His fingers wrap around the length of his cock and stroke a few times as he inches closer, and when the head finally makes contact with your dripping core, you whimper.

"Li... please..." He flashes you a devilish grin, his cute dimple warming your heart as your hands find their way to his built shoulders atop you.

"Since you asked so nicely," he says lowly, and pushes into you. You suck in a breath, the small stretch increasingly painful as he continues to push in, inch by delicious inch. The pleasure courses through you when he is finally fully sheathed inside of you, a growl escaping his throat as his hips retract and slam back in with immeasurable force.

"LIAM-" You shout. He pulls his hips back again, only pulling out half way as he continues to pound into you relentlessly, relishing in every breathless moan and scream of his name he can pull from your perfect lips.

"So tight, baby.... my gorgeous, gorgeous girl," he praises. Your hands slide down his tones arms, and the calloused fingers on one of his hands thread through your delicate ones, holding them to the mattress above your head. His breath comes out in short pants, and you let out a particularly sharp gasp.

"Ugh, fuck Liam; just like that," you breathe. His fingers let go of yours and wrap around your lower back, pulling you flush against his chest. HIs pace quickens as your breasts bounce with every quick thrust he delivers.

"You feel so good, Y/N," he says between breaths. His soft grunts almost send you over the edge, the new pace and angle spurring the impending orgasm from within. His warm breath tickles your neck, and his lips find your cheek, placing a single kiss as he continues to savagely thrust into you. "So perfect..." he whimpers.

You can't hold it together long enough to warn him this time as you fly over the edge, your orgasm barreling through you. You cry out, hands tugging on the ends of Liam's hair as your walls squeeze around his throbbing cock that hasn't yet slowed, riding you through your high. Your thighs start to shake, and Liam's mouth drops open as his eyes meet yours once more.

"Oh fuck, Y/N-" he jolts, releasing inside of your pulsing core as his movements begin to slow. Your combined ragged breaths are the only sounds filling the room, and his fingers trace the curve of your collarbone as his eyes lovingly gaze into yours again. You offer him a soft smile in your fucked-out state and he chuckles, slowly slipping out of you and retrieving a cloth from your desk. You move to take it from him, but per usual, he insists on cleaning you up himself.

Ahh, the gentleman he is.

He returns from tossing the cloth in the wastebasket, and you pull his big tee over your head for the second time today. He frowns at you, and shrugs, reaching for his pants and pulling them back up over his hips. He takes the spot on the bed next to you, propping up on an elbow to stare down upon you.

"I meant it," he starts, and you sigh.

"Liam-"

"Really, Y/N. I know its shitty that I have to always hang around with Violet. I know it sucks that it means I have less time with you. And... and I know it isn't your favorite thing. It isn't mine either." He says, taking a strand of your hair and twirling it around his index finger before letting it fall, and going for another piece.

"I know this, and I still listen to Xaden's orders. I know that doesn't make me a very good boyfriend, and I need to do better." He says in finality with a nod. "I'll talk to Xaden in the morning about it." You lean up off the bed, planting your lips on his. His hands cradle the back of your head, kissing you back with all the love he has to give. When you pull away, you know that no matter what, no matter how much or how little time you have together, there's no changing the connection the two of you share.

"Liam, I don't think I could find a better boyfriend than the one laying next to me in this very moment. You're as good as they get, my love."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

[folklaur21]

What would've should've been

Pairing: Theodore Nott x fem!ravenclaw!reader

Summary: Theodore Nott didn't truly know what love felt like until he found you. But now all he can do is sit and imagine what should've been.

Warnings: Mentions of death/killing, Battle of Hogwarts, use of Y/N

Word Count: 2.3k

Before You

Theodore Nott isn't the happiest person in the world. Scratch that, he might be the most subdued, emotionally complex guy to have ever existed. Hardly anything made him smile, next to nothing made him laugh. That's just how he was, is, and how he will always be.

It isn't completely his fault. People are never born 'sad' or 'emotionless'. Theo was brought up this way. It was ingrained into him as a child, silently impacting his life forever, and he didn't even realise it. Well, that was until his mother died. At the hands of his father.

Theodore's mother was a gentle soul. Sweet and caring, she always looked after her son. She gave him everything a child needed, wanted, and then some. The one thing she couldn't provide for Theo? A stable father, who wasn't an alcoholic, abusive pig. Though she did try, the fear she had of Theodore's father never ceased throughout their marriage. She just had to try to shelter Theodore from this cold, uncaring lifestyle.

She could only protect her son so much. When Theodore was just nine years old, she couldn't take the abuse from his father anymore. So she tried to escape. From her house, from her husband, from her life. Yet she failed. And he found out. Theodore Nott Sr. was not happy with this. So he did the only thing that he thought could ease his troubles. He killed his wife. The mother of his child. The child that had heard the Unforgiveable Curse uttered from his father's lips. The child who watched the flash of green light emitted from his father's wand. The child who had to watch his own mother, the only person who truly cared for him, die.

When he started Hogwarts, Theodore wanted a somewhat fresh start. Free from the burdens of his home life, he made friends.(Arguably, they were friends who his father would have approved of. If his father even cared.) At school, Theodore worked hard, and tried to mask the emotions he had always been told to oppress. Anger. Hatred. Vulnerability. So none of his friends truly knew what his life was like. Except for Lorenzo.

Theo told Enzo Berkshire everything. It was easier, having someone understand why you were like you were. Someone who you trusted with your deepest, darkest secrets. Someone who cared about you. That's how the two became best friends. Practically inseparable, 24/7.

During You

Having a connection with someone was something Theodore didn't truly seek throughout his lifetime. Especially now, in his fourth year at Hogwarts. Apart from Enzo, he was fine with keeping to himself, keeping a low profile and staying out of everyone's way. That was, until he saw you.

"Enzo, I don't want to go."

"Please, Theo, I want you to come. I'll be lonely without you." Enzo pleaded with his friend.

"I don't want to go to the Yule Ball. And besides, I didn't ask anyone to go with me." Theodore replied, still resisting the idea.

"So? No-one really cares if you're with someone or not. It's supposed to be fun." Enzo says with a sigh as he flops down next to Theo on his bed.

Theo scoffs. "Says you! How many girls asked you to go with them? 15?"

Lorenzo turns slightly pink at his friend's comment. "23..."

Theo lets out an exasperated sigh. "Exactly," Theo says, but after a moment he decides, "I will go to the ball with you Enz. Only because it's that, or sit around here or in the common room with all the first years."

So, that was how he ended up standing at the side of the Great Hall, sipping a glass of pumpkin juice, and watching all of his friends dancing with whoever they brought to the Ball. Theo didn't really mind. Once again, he was merely waiting in the wings, not really expecting anything grand to happen to him. At least, that's what he thought would happen. Until he saw you.

You were with some of your friends on the dancefloor. Laughing and smiling, you were carefree, living your life to it's full potential. Theo couldn't bear to take his eyes off of you. It's not like you would have seen him anyway, with him lurking in the shadows.

After he had spent what felt like forever watching you, Enzo came to his friend's side, offering a new glass of pumpkin juice, which Theo gladly accepted.

"Who's that?" Theo asked his friend, nodding his head in your direction.

"That's Y/N. Y/L/N I think. She's in Ravenclaw. She's actually quite clever, I sat next to her in arithmancy last year." Enzo pauses for a second. "Why do you want to know?"

"I don't know," Theo shrugs, nonchalant. "I just... don't remember seeing her before, that's all."

"Oh. Well, she's really kind. And sweet." Enzo smiles before rushing of again to resume dancing, leaving Theo to mull over his thoughts. Thoughts of you.

A week later, whilst sat in Potions, Theodore couldn't help but watch you, sitting across from him in the classroom. Strange. He had never noticed you before, but now it seemed you were the only thing plaguing his mind. He hardly took any notice of Professor Snape that lesson, watching you as you took notes with your brow furrowed, and how you twirled your quill around in your fingertips if you seemed distracted.

Over the next few weeks, Theodore Nott grew to know lots about you, even if you didn't yet realise it. He knew your favourite subject (Charms), your favourite sweets from Honeydukes (Chocolate Frogs, because you collected the cards). He even knew how you liked to spend your Sundays (sat in the courtyard with a book and a hot chocolate). Theo was drawn to you, for some unknown reason, and not even he could figure out why.

In the weeks leading up to your exams, you spent an increasing amount of time in the library, studying. Funnily enough, so did Theodore. He wanted to do well academically, even if his friends preferred skiving off and messing with first years. So, that was how he came to speak to you for the first time, five whole months after he was first captivated by you.

"Can I sit here? All the other tables are either occupied or slightly sticky and I don't want to mess up my books"

"Uhh, sure!" Theodore said, shocked that you had even come over to him. "No," he told himself. "She's only over here because nowhere else was free. Don't get your hopes up."

"I'm Y/N, by the way." You smile at him, and wave your wand to get your books laid out on the desk in front of you.

"Theodore. But you can call me Theo." Theodore said, as he found himself smiling in return.

The two of you started to talk about anything and everything; school, exams, your hobbies, interests, just your lives in general. And that's how Theo realised that, maybe he wasn't such a cold, uncaring teenager after all.

A week or so later, the two of you were sat under the shade of an oak tree overlooking the Black Lake, studying for, you guessed it, exams. That moment was when Theo finally plucked up enough courage to ask you something.

"Hey, Y/N?" he asked, taking a deep breath.

"What?" you replied, looking up from your book.

"I was wondering, would you maybe like to, and it's OK if you don't, I don't mind, you don't have to say yes or anything because it's completely your choice-"

"Spit it out, Theo!" you giggled, humoured by his rambling.

"Right. Sorry." Theo said, trying to calm himself down. "Umm, would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend? And could we possibly go to the Three Broomsticks? You know, just... us?"

Your eyes widened, before you smiled at the boy's worried expression. "Of course! Theo I'd love to."

You wrapped your arms around him and gave him a small kiss on the cheek before returning to your book, leaving Theodore grinning as if he'd just won the lottery. Which, with you, he basically had.

After You

It had been a while since Theodore Nott had been back at Hogwarts. Since he had gotten the Dark Mark, at his father's force, he had stayed working for The Dark Lord, being a Death Eater. He hated it. It was a life his father had forced him into, a life which wasn't truly his. And now he was back at the one place which had been a home to him, but now he was here to destroy it.

Theo tried to look for you. The one person who he trusted, and the one person who trusted him. Theo wasn't here to fight. He wasn't here to kill. He couldn't do that here. His safe place, where his father couldn't physically torture him. Where you were.

Before his sixth year at Hogwarts, Theo was held under the Imperius curse by his father, and the searing skull tattoo, the tattoo that would hurt him forever, was imprinted into his left arm. When school started again, he couldn't bear to tell you, his girlfriend, what had happened. But he did, because between you two, there were no secrets. When you found out, all you were was supportive. You helped Theo though his pain and anguish, but what he didn't know is that when you first found out, you cried for hours. Crying about his future, your future, angry at the world you live in for being so cruel. Crying was really the only thing you could do.

After Dumbledore's death, Theodore did what he thought would be best for your relationship, best for you.

"You can't be serious, Theodore?" you said, trying to keep your voice levelled and clear, holding back the tears.

That hurt Theo. You never called him Theodore, unless you were really frustrated. Which hadn't happened until now. "Y/N please, I have to, it's for your safety."

"My SAFETY? Theo, I couldn't care less about that right now. Please, don't do this." You couldn't hold back any longer. The tears were now streaming down your face.

"I don't want to, but-"

"But what, Theo? I love you!"

"I love you too, but-"

"Then surely that's all that matter?" you say, exasperated. "We love each other. We can run away together, and live in hiding until it's safe for us to come out, to be together."

"No, we can't, you know we can't, we'll be found and then... you'd... You'd be killed." Theo says in a small voice. "And I can't let that happen to you. Please, Y/N, just listen to me. As soon as this is over, we can get back together. We can live together, start over together. But it can't happen now. Not yet. Please, Y/N, wait for me."

You can't stop crying now, and you lean over to Theo and kiss him. "OK. When it's all over. I'll be waiting for you, Theo. You'll definitely come back to me?"

"Of course I will, Y/N. I promise I'll find you."

And of course, that's what he was currently doing. Looking for you. He had been waiting a year to see your face again, hoping you hadn't forgotten about him. However now he couldn't find you. Running through the corridors, shouting you name, dodging curses and rubble, Theo's only goal was to find you. And he did.

There you were at the top of the Astronomy tower, a split lip and wearing a torn blue jumper, you were aiming all sorts of hexes at a Death Eater. Theo was so relieved, and began firing spells at your opponent, until he was knocked unconscious. At that point, Theo kicked the limp body over the balcony, not caring what would happen.

"Y/N." Theo smiled. "I told you I'd come back."

You pulled Theo into a hug and kissed him. "Theo!" you breathed.

"I love you more than anything, Y/N." All Theo could do was look into your bright, tearful eyes, relieved that he could see you once again before-

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

That fateful curse.

A flash of green light.

Your body fell limp in Theo's arms.

Your eyes lost their brightness.

"NO!"

Theo tried to pull you up, tried to hold you tight, but it was no use. You were gone. Theo looked up to see your murderer, looking him in the eyes. His father.

Your death at the hands of Nott Sr. ensured Nott Sr.'s death at the hands of his son. That was the first and last time that Theodore Nott would ever use the killing curse, and it only made sense for it to be on the person that used it on the two people who he had loved most in the world.

When the Battle of Hogwarts was over, most of Voldemort's supporters were dead, captured, or had fled the scene when it was evident that they were losing. But two Death Eaters stayed behind, simply because they couldn't bear to leave the castle like this. They felt it was partly their fault. Those two Death Eaters were Theodore Nott and Lorenzo Berkshire.

Whilst everyone gathered in the Great Hall, Enzo wandered the, now ruined, corridors of a place he loved so dearly. What he didn't expect to find his best friend, leaning on the crumbled wall of the Astronomy tower, cradling someone in his arms. Not to mention the fact that his father lay on the ground mere feet away.

"Please, Y/N, you can't be dead, you can't. I came back for you I-"

"Theo?" Enzo inquired, sitting on the floor next to his best friend, who was in fits of tears.

"He killed her, Enz. He killed her so- So I killed him. I had to."

"It's OK, Theo." Enzo replied, putting an arm around his friend's shoulder, and letting him cry.

The pair fell into a comfortable silence, with the sound of everyone in the castle talking and grieving the loss of friends and family. The two could have been down there with them, celebrating the demise of the people who made their lives hell.

But instead, all Theodore Nott could think about is what should've been.

[hotluncheddie]

Honey Boy

wc: 1.3k | rated: M | tags: 1920s au, food as a love language, not cis flapper Eddie Munson 

˚⊹♡

Steve Harrington used to be the most eligible bachelor in all of New York City. Destined to take over his father’s nicotine empire, and make the family even richer. That was, until Steve Harrington got caught in an apartment fire. Clocked in the head by a steel beam while helping a young boy out. 

Steve Harrington can’t take over the business anymore, because sometimes his head hurts so bad he can’t seen. Sometimes it hurts so bad his legs don’t work. 

Now Steve Harrington is married to one Robin Buckley, socialite who writes poetry published under a mans name, and who comes from a good family. A solid flock; enough to get Harrington Sr to stop sniffing around proposals that might’ve made Steven useful to him again. 

But, you only had to enter their apartment once to see that their bedrooms were distinctly separate. Only had to watch them together in public for a moment to see their touching never went past friendly. 

No, now Steve Harrington lives on an allowance, goes to dinners once a month to show his face; coming back from them quieter, fog always lasting a few days. Doing so in order to, amongst other things, frequent a speakeasy on Saturday nights; hidden under a barbers shop in Harlem. 

And, now, this Steve Harrington, also, bakes. Pastries, cakes and desserts from across the pond. Anything, everything, the finest you can think of. 

And Eddie Munson, you see, knows all this about Steve Harrington. Knows all about this Steve Harrington, because, every weekend, Steve goes to the club, under the barber shop in Harlem, to take home one, particular, very special, girl. 

Him. 

‘No, slowly.’ Steve murmurs, holding the bite of pie just out of reach of Eddie’s lips. ‘Open.’ 

Eddie does. 

‘Hold it baby. Taste it, let it melt.’ He whispers, patting the corners of Eddie’s mouth with a napkin. Watching Eddie swallow, eyelashes fluttering, half for Steve’s sake and half because it just tastes so damn good. 

‘Don’t mess up my lipstick, s’not easy getting this dolled up.’ Eddie mumbles as Steve scoops up another mouthful, the fine porcelain and small fork held so gently in this large hands. 

Steve smiles, pausing, laying down the cutlery to cradle Eddie’s cheek in his palm and run a thumb under his kohl lined eye. ‘Never, you’re berries baby.’ He says, flashing his teeth. Lifting that fork again to feed him another slow bite. 

And this is all Steve asks for, really. The only time during the night where Steve requests Eddie does as he says. Otherwise, Eddie can do as he likes, orders Steve around hand and foot if he pleased, fuck him, not fuck him, get fucked, get blown. But not this part, this in between part. After a couple hours at the joint, with the good hooch, and a little dancing; Steve will eventually pull Eddie away. Away from the guys who want to get their hands up his beaded dress, who pull him in extra close for the slow dance, buy him a drink, light his cigarette unprompted. But everyone now knows that Saturdays are Steve’s night, Eddie might twirl and drink and bat his eyelashes at any sap he pleases; but he always walks out hand in hand with Harrington Jr. 

Following him back to Steve’s now familiar apartment, where Eddie can kick off his heels and lounge back on the velvet sofa. Where Steve will have baked something special in preparation, requesting to feed Eddie every bite slowly, so slowly. Until every morsel is gone. 

And Eddie lets him, is paid for it, handsomely. But they both know that, now, it’s got nothing to do with the money, not really. Eddie could go home with any number of rich clients on a Saturday night, multiple, and has done. But he doesn’t, not now. 

No, now, it’s only Steve. Every Saturday, like clockwork. 

No, it’s not all about the money, not for Eddie. And it maybe wasn’t ever, really, for Steve. 

The first time Eddie went home with him Steve had flushed, fluttered, almost too scared to touch him. Offering up chocolate covered strawberries and biting his lip raw when the juice dripped down Eddie’s chin. Then ate Eddie out until spit dripped down his thighs. 

Now his Steve has less reservation. Always seeking skin, seeking touch, begging to be able to give. 

And Eddie feasts on it. 

Starving. 

Once the desert is tucked away, fed, devoured, consumed. Poured, dripping ambrosia into his very centre. All of him now a little more padded thanks to Steve’s steady devotion; ribs not so visible, hips no longer concave and thighs that are just starting to brush together under dresses and between nylon. Once that’s done, now, Steve kneels, happy and satiated, content with having completed his only desire for the night. 

The rest, now, is up to Eddie. 

And Eddie wants to smoke, and pet Steve’s cheek where it rests between his legs, on his inner thigh. 

He blows smoke at Steve’s face, watches him inhale, eyelashes fluttering. 

He’s a funny man, this Steve of his. Eddie thinks he’s the bees knees, sweet as honey, pretty as cherry pie. 

‘Kids at the club talk about something called transcendence honey boy. You know anything about that?’ Eddie asks, scratching Steve’s scalp with long, painted nails.  

‘No.’ Steve says, eyes closed, leaning into the touch. 

‘Somethin’ about reaching a higher power, becoming more just through talkin’ and thinkin’ and bein’.’ 

‘Oh yeah?’ Steve says, listening, but the hand stroking slowly higher up Eddie’s calf says his mind is split in half. 

‘Mmhm, I think you might just be doing it, only with you it’s through eatin’.’ Eddie smirks, spreading his legs a little more. 

Steve looks up, glassy eyes getting clearer, he looks; affronted, confused, aroused. ‘I jus’ like seeing you looked after, seeing you warm and relaxed. Like seeing the way your eyes droop when you taste something good, the way you sit different in the chair, the way your legs shift and your cheeks blush. I just think food looks good on you baby.’ And Steve’s fingers slide up Eddie’s thigh, under the beaded silk of his dress, over the plush that sits over muscle. The weight, the width, the softness that’s been gained - gained by the offerings of Steve’s own hands. 

Eddie gasps softly as those hands squeeze his thighs, warm and pliant and greedy. 

‘Do you like that thought, doll? What did you call it?’ 

‘Transcendence.’ 

‘Yeah, you like it? Does it make you feel good sugar?’ He asks, eager. Always so eager. 

Eddie thinks maybe it does, thinks that maybe the way Steve does most things might just be the best feeling in the world. 

‘Take me to bed honey boy.’ 

Steve smiles, boyish and blinding and lifts Eddie up bridal style, making him cackle. Wrapping his arms around Steve’s neck and biting at his earlobe, sticking a hand down his half unbuttoned dress shirt to grope at the hair and muscle. 

Never fails to make Eddie feel like a real dame this one. 

Which is still not always an easy task, even with how Eddie chooses to present himself, how he loves. What he does and how he does it. Still not easy. But when Steve lays Eddie’s down, removing clothes between bites and throaty giggles. Kissing and kissing. And kissing as he does. Eddie’s knees part easily and his fingers grip tousled brown hair and Steve opens him up, slick and wanting and hungry. 

And when Eddie is filled, enveloped in Steve’s warmth, the oven of his chest, baking Eddie alive. Eddie feels it again, maybe, that higher place. 

‘You’re my girl, you’re my girl.’ Steve will pant, hot and wet in Eddie’s ear. Chant it until it drips like honey through his bones. Taking Eddie there, ascending. Toes curled, moan breathy and needy and high, filled up something special, a girl who is. 

That’s when Eddie feels it, for the second time that night; divine, feminine, transcended. 

Loved. 

˚⊹♡

Taglist (& people who showed interest <3) : @pearynice @scoops-aboy86 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @chickensinrainboots @cheesedoctor

@marvel-ous-m @whimsicalwadewinstonwilson @postmodernau @steddie-island

[aanoia]

Definitely (Dying, pt. 2)

Poly!marauders x reader, James Potter x reader, Remus Lupin x reader, Sirius Black x reader

Summary; a failed attempt and a year later, y/n is finally okay

Words; 1,800+

Warnings; srs tw, talk of drug abuse, suicide, self harm, I think that's all

Pt. 1, "Dying"

Really heavy topics, loves, please proceed with caution. I love you all!

It had been two months. The worst two months of their lives. The Marauders watched from afar as their now ex girlfriend killed herself, and said ex girlfriend had to watch as her lovers sat in each other's arms, basking in each other's presence. It was all too much. She couldn’t take it anymore. 

Today was a rare day where Y/n wasn’t on anything. Her system was clear and a bright smile was on her face. Almost everyone felt uncomfortable about the sudden change, wondering why she was suddenly… okay. Truth is she was the farthest from that that she’s ever been.

“Oh my gosh! Y/n, I love your necklace. Where did you get it?” Lily Evans, one of Y/n’s best friends, asked as Y/n sat down at the table. She sat as far away from the Marauders as she could, which proved difficult as Lily loved sitting next to them.

Y/n smiled and reached behind her head, swiftly unclasping the necklace and dangling it in front of Lily, “Here, have it.”

Lily shook her head, “Oh no, I couldn’t take it.”

“No, I swear it’s fine. It’s not really my style anyway. It’d look much better on you than me.” Y/n insisted and Lily hesitantly took the necklace. 

The thing is, that was Y/n’s favorite necklace. One her mom had given her when she was just a little girl, before she became a disappointment. The Marauders knew that. They shared uneasy looks, confused as to why she would so easily hand over her favorite possession, 

“Awh, that was sweet, Y/n.” Marlene said, admiring the golden necklace that now lay beautifully across Lily’s chest.

“Oh, here. You can have my bracelet. I always see you eyeing it.” She removed the bracelet and handed it to Marlene.

“Oh, thank you, Y/n. How kind.” She said with her brows furrowed.

“Of course.” Y/n responded with a smile.

It had been like that all day. She had given away everything that was complimented and constantly gave people hugs and told them she loved me. It was weird, for lack of a better term. It wasn’t only people close to her that noticed the unusualness either. It was classmates and teachers as well, even the paintings that lined the walls noticed a difference. It left an uneasy pit in everyone's stomach. 

That night, Remus sat at his desk with his hand holding up his head as he was deep in thought. 

James gently placed his hand on the boy's shoulder, “Moony? What’s going on in that head of yours?” James asked and Sirius perked up at the question, also wanting to know the answer.

Remus shook his head, “S’nothing.”

Sirius let out a short laugh, “You're full of shit. You’ve got that face. You only get that face when you’re thinking of something.”

“Oh, yeah. You’re right. He does have a thinking face.” James agreed and Sirius nodded.

“I know right, he goes like-” Sirius made an exaggerated facial expression.

“No, that looks nothing like him, dimwit. It’s like this-”  Remus tuned them out as they fought.

He went over every interaction Y/n had had that he witnessed throughout the day. She was acting so strange. Even before all the weed and drugs she never just gave away her possessions. She loved her things and held them close to her heart. So why was she giving it all away? And why was she suddenly showing so much affection? And why now? What changed? And why does Remus feel like he’s forgetting somethin-

Remus shot from his seat, “We need to find her. Now.” He said urgently before running out of the room, the boys paused before running after him, knowing exactly who “her” was. 

Remus hastily knocked on the door of Y/n’s dorm room, hoping she would open the door. Instead he was met with the sleepy face of Lily Evans and soft snores from Marlene who was cuddled up into Dorcas’ side. No Y/n.

“Remus?” She glanced behind him. “Sirius? James? What is it?”

“Is Y/n here?” He asked, dread filling his body.

Lily shook her head, “No, she said she was going up to the astronomy tower. Why?”

“I’ll tell you later, thank you.” He said before beginning to move again, but once they got down to the empty common room Sirius grabbed tightly onto his arm, stopping any movement. 

“Remus, what is going on? Why are you so worried?” Sirius asked.

“I think Y/n’s going to kill herself. The signs add up, giving away valuable possessions, being extra affectionate, and you know how her life is. We need to find her, now.” Sirius and James looked at each other before nodding. Sirius let go of Remus and all three sped to the astronomy tower, spending little to no time to think about not getting caught. Right now it was not a priority, their priority was Y/n.

They raced up the steps, not stopping as their lungs begged for air and legs ached for rest. Remus burst through the door and halted as his eyes lay on a silhouette standing at the edge of the tower, on the other side of the rails.

“Remus?” The figure asked, her voice hoarse and broken.

“Y/n, baby, please. Come here.” He begged as his boyfriends came in behind him.

“Y/n?” James asked tentatively. “Sweetheart, don’t do it.”

“Please, go away.” She asked, tears pouring from her eyes. They weren’t supposed to be here. “Please.” She whispered.

Sirius was the only one brave enough to step closer, “No. We let you leave once already, I won’t let you again.” He took another step.

“No, get away from me!” She cried, her sweaty hands slipping against the cool metal.

“Love.” Sirius said quietly, close enough to whisper to her. “It’s going to be okay, yeah?” She began to protest but he shook his head, shushing her while taking yet another step forward. “No, I know how hard that is to believe. But it will. And I- we- we will be there every step of the way. Come on, love, grab onto my hand.” He said quietly while stretching his hand out.

“I can’t do it anymore, Siri.” She whispered, her legs shaking.

“Yes you can.” He assured her immediately. “You can, I know of it. You are the strongest girl I’ve met. I know you can stay here. With me. And Remus. And James. I know you can.”

“But the weed and-and the alcohol, even if I don’t know, I’ll kill myself!” 

“Then we’ll work together to get sober. Y/n, my love, it’s not impossible for you to be happy. I need you to realize that. You can be happy, and you are worthy of being happy. Now hold my hand, please.” He asked again, tears stinging his eyes. She hesitantly grabbed his hand and let him help her over the rails.

The moment her feet touched the ground of the astronomy tower she collapsed in tears and the three immediately engulfed her in a warm hug. She sobbed in their arms for what felt like hours, but the boys didn’t care. She needed love, and they were going to give it to her. 

Once her cries quieted to small sniffles Remus pulled away and gently placed his hand on her tear stained cheek, wiping away the tears with the pad of his thumb.

“Hey, baby.” he said quietly.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered.

“Whatever for?” 

“Being such a bitch to you guys and pushing you.” She said, her eyes cast downward as guilt filled her body.

“It’s alright, my love. We’ve already forgiven you.” Sirius responded, the boys nodding along with him. 

“We just want you to be okay.” James said, his arms wrapped loosely around her neck as he placed a soft kiss on her temple.

Y/n nodded slowly, “I wanna be okay too.”

“You will be okay.”

A year later, Y/n smiled at Lily as she sat down at the table in the morning. 

“Good morning, Lily, how did you sleep?”

Lily snorted, “I would’ve slept better if a few girls in my dorm didn’t stop gossiping all night.”

Y/n and Marlene looked at each other with smirks.

“Oh, how rude of them.” Marlene said.

“Truly a tragedy.” Y/n agreed, grabbing a piece of toast. “Does anyone know where my boyfriends are?” She asked, looking around the table.

“Probably doing something dumb.” Dorcas said and Y/n nodded.

“I believe it.” 

The doors to Great Hall opened and in walked Sirius Black. He walked to the Gryffindor table and stood behind his girlfriend, leaning down.

“We need you outside, please, Ms. L/n.” He said, sending shivers down the girl's spine.

“Oh, really?” She asked.

He kissed her cheek, “Yes, ma’am. Shall I escort you?” He asked, standing straight and holding out his hand.

She grabbed his hand, “You shall.” She stood up and let out a small yelp as Sirius quickly tugged her along. Y/n laughed as they sped down the hallway, making Sirius smile. Her laugh truly was music to his ears.

The left the castle and Sirius brought her to a little picnic blanket which her other two boyfriends were lounging on while conversating.

“Ah, look at our girl.” James said as he noticed them approaching.

“Guys, what is this?” Y/n asked with wide eyes as Sirius pushed her down gently, urging her to sit.

“Well, I do believe it’s a picnic.” Remus answered with a grin.

Y/n rolled her eyes, “No, I mean what’s it for?”

“Ah, great question. Today marks one year of you being sober, and we wanted to show you how proud of you we are.” Sirius explained and Y/n smiled.

“Guys, thank you. I love you all so much.”

“We love you too.” James responded.

“Oh! Hagrid made a cake. We didn’t ask him too, but he handed it to us and told us to make sure it got to you.” Remus said, handing Y/n a box.

Y/n smiled as she read what was on the cake. 

‘PROWD OF YOU, Y/N!’

“Awh, Hagrid is so sweet.” Y/n said with a large smile.

“We’re proud of you too, by the way.” James said, putting his head on her lap.

Sirius grabbed Y/n’s hand, “I told you you were the strongest girl I knew.”

Pride swelled in Y/n’s chest. She had come so far in just a year. She had walked through hell and came back alive, barely, but still alive. She had cut off contact from her parents, much to their dismay as now their scapegoat had left, however they didn’t put in the effort to keep her around. During the summer before seventh year she stayed in the spare bedroom at the Potter house, going under strict rules of doors open at all times if she and James were together, or any of them if the other two came over. Y/n was more than okay, she was happy. She healed. Was it hard? Maybe. Was it worth it? 

Definitely.

Tag list;

@duruxoxo @mars-marley @siriuslydestiny @gagafatale @lestat-whore @1hornyforfictionalmen1 @megluv1 @takem3tothelakes @fictionalmensblog @ssaspencerreidswife