#she still brought harry potter into the world?

[once-upon-an-imagine]

Scars To Your Beautiful - James Potter

A/N: I have no idea how I was able to finish this xD thank you @captainlunaxmen for all your help! I hope yo loves like this :)

Request - @nix-rose asked: What about a James Potter x Black!Reader (if reader can have some personality: extrovert, loyal, gryffindor but could probably be a slytherin, just a happy person, definitely rough and tumble but still enjoys looking cute-) “Have you… Always been this beautiful?” “…That’s so cheesy even for your standards.”

Warnings: reader is really insecure, mentions of abusive parents, James protecting you from a creep (nothing to explicit though) also, this isn't proofread :D

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter :) gif isn’t mine :D  

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Scars To Your Beautiful

But there's a hope that's waiting for you in the dark You should know you're beautiful just the way you are And you don't have to change a thing, The world could change its heart No scars to your beautiful, we're stars and we're beautiful

The ‘other Black’. That's how you were known in Hogwarts. 

You knew your family wasn’t perfect. As much as they all like to make it seem that way, it was very much far from it. Being part of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black brought a lot of pressure with it, but you were used to it by now. And, deep down, you loved your family. At least your brothers and your cousins. Well, two of your cousins, you were always pretty terrified of Bellatrix after she enchanted all of hers and her sisters’ ancient creepy dolls to come alive and it still terrified you to your very core today. But you loved Andromeda and Narcissa, even if the latter was now spending all of her time with Lucius Malfoy and you saw less and less of her. 

Even if you’d never admit it, you were always a bit envious of them. Not in a bad way, you just… wondered a little how it would feel to be like them. You remembered guys literally fighting to get your cousins’ attention. And not a day went by without you having to hear at least ten different people saying how gorgeous your brothers were. 

And then, there was you. You had a respectable reputation since you were part of the Black family. But it sometimes felt like you weren’t worthy enough to be part of it. You’ve sometimes noticed some guys staring at you a bit too long. And you’ve gone out with a few guys before. But you’ve also had people come to you specifically to get closer to one of your relatives. And nobody had referred to you as beautiful. Well, no one, except…

“Hey, beautiful” you heard that very familiar voice standing next to you. 

“Potter” you smirked. 

“Going to the match today?” 

“The Slytherin-Gryffindor match?” you smiled. “Oh, I wouldn’t miss it for the world” you told him. 

“Good, cause I need my good luck charm” he said as the two of you walked to the Great Hall. 

“Exactly, how does that work, Potter? Because I’m not really rooting for your team” you reminded him and he scoffed, pretending to be offended. 

“But of course you are, your brother plays on my team-”

“My other brother plays for my team” you interrupted. 

“Well, maybe not the team but… I’m sure you like the Gryffindor captain more than Slytherin’s” he smiled sweetly at you. 

“Well, you got me there, Potter” you admitted. 

“Promise you’ll come to the party when we win?” he asked as you entered the Great Hall and you knew you would separate. 

“That’s a lot of talk, Potter” you smirked but he offered his pinky to you. You rolled your eyes but you took it. “Never speak of this” you told him.

“See you there, beautiful” he said before he saw you walk to your table. 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Here” you said, sitting down next to your brother at Potions and handing him a small bag. 

“What’s this?” he asked, grabbing the bag. 

“That girl from Ravenclaw wanted me to give you this. I think she wants to ask you to Hogsmeade next weekend” you said, grabbing one of the chocolates inside. “Bite this, if it doesn’t have a love potion, I’m stealing them” you said.

“I’m not trying anything!” he complained. “Remember when we had to take care of Sirius after that girl from Hufflepuff basically drugged him?”

“I know, that’s why I wanted you to try them first” you chuckled. 

“Hold on” he said, grabbing his wand and pointing it at the candy. “We’re good” he said when a small purple dust came out of it. You grabbed one of the chocolates and Regulus grabbed another one, reading the note inside. “So, how was your talk with Potter this morning?” 

“I didn't talk to Potter this morning” you frowned, stealing some of his chocolates. 

“Don’t do that. I’m not Sirius” Regulus glared at you. “I’m not oblivious of how you two just casually entered the Great Hall together” he said. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Reggie” you said, pretending to be confused. 

“Or whenever he goes to Honeydukes he just happens to buy one too many Peppermint Toads so he gives you some, which just so happens to be your favorite” he said.

“He doesn’t… do that” you said, with your mouth half full of chocolate. 

“Are you… playing dumb? Or have you actually not noticed this?”

“Notice what? James is just friendly. That’s how he is” you tried to explain. 

“Really? He’s never gotten me Sugar Quills” Regulus said. 

“He doesn’t like Sugar Quills, why would he buy those?” 

“He doesn’t like Peppermint Toads either” he smirked. 

“Y-yes he does!” you argued, nervously. 

“No, he likes Chocolate Frogs, like the rest of us normal people” he said, as you glared at him. “And besides, it’s not just that. He’s always asking Sirius and me what your favorite books are, or asking Remus which songs you liked” he shrugged. 

“He… he does?”

“Does he really strike you as the guy who would read Pride and Prejudice for the fun of it?” 

“He might” you tried to convince yourself as you grabbed another chocolate. 

“Look, I know what you’re doing, and I know why you’re doing it. And it’s not worth it, bug” he said, getting serious. 

“It’s easy for you to say, Reg” you mumbled, picking another chocolate. “Look, it’s just… not that easy for me” you added. 

“You’ve gone out with guys before” he frowned, confused. 

“Not like James” you added. “What if… what if he’s really just being friendly? What if I think he’s interested in me and then I make a complete fool of myself? Just because he’s nice to me and I think there might be something else there? I feel…” you sighed, looking down at your hands. “It feels pathetic” you mumbled. 

“First of all, there’s nothing wrong with you liking James. Having feelings doesn’t make you pathetic” he said in a serious tone. “Secondly, did you not listen to what I just said? I honestly don’t think that James is just nice to you randomly like he’s nice to everyone else. He’s always looking for excuses to be around you, and he seems happier when he is. As do you. And, to be honest, I thought you were as oblivious about this as Sirius is, but now that I know that you were just trying to live in denial well, you’re dumber than Sirius- OUCH!”

“Excuse me?!” you asked, offended. 

“Only when it comes to this” he defended himself. “Look, I know that… for some reason, you’ve convinced yourself that you’re never going to find someone who fancies you-”

“For some reason? There is a very clear reason, Regulus, her name is Walburga!” 

“I know” he rolled his eyes. He knew very well about the hierarchy of the three of you in your home. And even if you were still not as below as Sirius because you were in Slytherin, your mother never let you forget that you were not Regulus or any of your cousins for that matter. “And I know that is not easy for you to turn off her voice in your head but, if you don’t, you might miss your chance to be with someone who is actually a great fit for you and it looks like he really likes you” he explained. “Don’t do that. If you let her win, you’re admitting that she’s right. And we all know, she’s not” he reminded you. “What’s the worst that could happen if you give Potter a chance?” 

“It’s very annoying when you’re right all the time, did you know that?”

“I do” he smiled triumphally, eating one last piece of chocolate as Professor Slughorn finally entered the class. 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Ugh, what is it?” you heard your cousin’s annoyed voice on the other side of the door that you knocked on before it opened, and she appeared. “Oh, hey, love” she smiled when she saw it was you.

“Hi, Cissa, um… is this a bad time?” you asked, hoping you were not just interrupting her having sex with Malfoy. 

“Oh, no, love. Lucius is just moping about losing the match” she laughed, stepping out. “What’s up?” 

“Um, w-well, I wanted to ask for a favor… if you’re not too busy” you smiled. 

“Please, anything to get away from Lucius” she said, linking her arm with yours and already walking over to your dorm. “So, what’s going on?” she said, stepping into your dorm and noticing all the clothes scattered around your bed and the floor. 

“Well, I was hoping to get your opinion on something” you said, smiling sweetly. 

“Let me guess” she said, sitting on your bed and grabbing a few skirts and dresses. “You’re going to the Gryffindor party to see James Potter” she said, erasing the smile off your face. 

“Wha-? How did you know? Did Regulus tell you?”

“Oh, please, love, I’m sure you and Sirius are the only ones who didn’t know” she laughed. 

“What?”

“Yeah, Bella and Andy also know” she informed you. 

“What? How?”

“I told them” she shrugged. 

“Ugh, great” you said, throwing yourself on your bed. “My entire family is discussing my pathetic crush” you lamented. 

“It could be worse” she said. “At least he’s a pureblood” she smiled. 

“Right” you said awkardly, sitting up. Of course that would be the only pro she’d find on James. 

“Besides, he obviously likes you back” she said as she started looking through the dresses. “Stand up” she said, pulling you up and putting the dress in front of you. 

“How are you so sure that he likes me back?”

“Oh, please, love. You can’t be that dense” she snorted. “The boy won’t leave you alone. And I’m pretty sure you’re the only one not from Gryffindor to get invited to their parties” she said. “Or at least the only Slytherin” she said. 

“W-well, maybe Sirius invited me-”

“Then why isn’t Regulus going?” 

“Okay, fair” you sighed. 

“This looks pretty. How come you haven’t worn it before?” she asked, holding up a black dress. 

“Oh, I got it a while ago in a very cute shop, but, I know it’s not something my mother would ever let me wear” you told her. 

“Well, lucky for us, your mum isn’t here” she said, throwing the dress at you. 

After you put it on, Narcissa happily sat back down on your bed and helped you with your makeup. 

“Hey, Cissa?”

“Try not to move, I’m doing your eyes” she said. 

“How do you um… get a guy to uh… notice you?” you asked, making your cousin’s look soften a little. 

“James Potter already notices you, love” she smiled. 

“W-well, yeah, I guess b-but, um… how do I let him know that I like him?” you asked. “You know, without actually telling him” you chuckled. 

“You mean, how do you flirt with him?” 

“It’s just… Regulus insists that he does these things to get my attention and… to be honest, I didn’t think it was any different from the way he acts with other girls so… I guess I have been acting normal, but… I’d like him to know that I’m interested, I guess…”

“Well, Potter seems to have a big ego, so congratulate him on how well he played today” she said as she kept doing her makeup and you glared at her a little. 

“And Lucius is as humble as they come, I suppose” you muttered. 

“Fair point” she said, before she continued. “Look, you already know he’s interested in you. Just smile at him, laugh at his stupid jokes, you should be fine” she insisted as she finished. “Okay, I’m done” she smiled. You got up and walked over looking at yourself in the mirror. 

For the first time, in a very long time, you actually felt beautiful. Narcissa had managed to make you look as elegant and flawless as you did whenever your family had a dinner party, but you didn’t feel like you were wearing a costume in one of the dresses your mother always picked. You felt like yourself. You turned around and hugged your cousin tightly. 

“Thank you so much, Cissa!” you smiled. 

“You’re welcome, love. Now go flirt with your dumb boy” she said, ushering you outside your dorm. 

“You too” you said, smiling and walking down the stairs as she rolled her eyes.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

When you entered the Gryffindor Tower, the party was already in full mode. You felt a few people, guys specifically, looking your way but you thought maybe it was because you were possibly the only Slytherin here. You walked across the Common Room, looking for James, but you found a different Marauder first. 

“Hi, Remus” you smiled as he walked over to you. 

“Oh, thank Merlin you’re here” he hugged you. “You’re the only person I like at this party and now Prongs can finally stop moping about you not being here” he said, making you laugh a little as he pulled away and looked at you. “Wow… you look-?”

“Bad?” you panicked.

“What? No! You look lovely” he smiled. “Prongs’ probably gonna have a heart attack though” he smirked. 

“Shut up! Stop saying things like that!” you widened your eyes at him. 

“Oh, please don’t tell me that you are as oblivious as your brother” he chuckled.

“I am not-! You know, I hit Regulus for saying that today!” 

“Alright, don’t hit me” he said, putting his hands up in surrender. “But, you cannot tell me that you haven’t noticed the way Prongs acts around you. He was literally throwing a fit about you not coming today” he insisted. 

“Really? Because he seems fine to me” you said, pointing behind Remus where you saw James talking to a group of very pretty girls as he offered a drink to one of them while another one threw her hair back, clearly flirting with him. 

“That means nothing” Remus said, rolling his eyes when he looked back to you. “That’s how James is-” 

“Exactly, that’s how James is” you repeated. 

“No, it’s different with you” Remus insisted as he grabbed a drink and handed it to you. 

“Really? Enlighten me” you glared at him. 

“So, you are admitting you are as oblivious as Sirius then?” 

“You know, you’re making a big deal out of that for someone who is just as oblivious on my brother’s crush on him-”

“What?!” Remus said, choking on his drink and pulling you aside. “Alright, now you’re just making stuff up” he said. 

“I’m not! You really haven’t noticed how Sirius is obnoxiously loud whenever you’re around to get your attention?”

“He… does not” Remus said, blushing a little. 

“Or that he calls you sweet names” you smirked.

“He calls everyone ‘love’” he interrupted. 

“Yes, he does” you nodded. “But he only calls you ‘my’ love” you added. 

“He… does not” he repeated.

“What are you doing here?” Sirius asked, walking over to the two of you all of the sudden. 

“Nothing” Remus quickly said. 

“Being normal, why?” you said at the same time, making Sirius raise an eyebrow at the two of you. “Um… h-have you seen James?” 

“No, but I am seeing too much of something” he said, gesturing his hand at your body. “What the bloody hell are you wearing?”

“A dress?” you said, looking down at yourself. 

“That is too revealing. You need to go change!”

“First of all, it is not. And secondly, your shirt is literally completely open!” you complained. 

“Yeah, well, this isn’t anything they haven’t seen before” he defended himself. “I am not in the mood to fight some prick that stares at you for a little too long because of… that” he said. “Go upstairs and grab my jacket” he told you.

“What? No!” you complained.

“Yes” he insisted. “Would you reason with her, my love?” he asked, looking at Sirius and you smirked when he blushed furiously. 

“Shut up” he whispered to you. “Look, just go upstairs and pretend to look for a jacket, I’ll distract him and you can come back in a few minutes” he said while Sirius finished his drink. 

“Ugh, fine” you rolled your eyes. 

“How come she only listens to you?” Sirius complained, pouting at Remus. “It must be your beautiful eyes” he smiled.

“How many of those have you had?” Remus asked, taking his glass away from him. 

You made it upstairs to the boys’ dorm and went over to Sirius' trunk to look for one of his jackets.  You found one that you kind of liked and put it on before you went back downstairs. You looked for James but saw he was still talking to the group of girls. You tried to look for your brother instead but saw him very busy with Remus and you didn’t want to interrupt so you went to grab something to drink.

“I didn’t know they let Slytherins into our parties” you heard Augustus McLaggen on your left, pouring himself a drink as well. 

“Oh” you said nervously. You were rarely alone at these things. You would at least have Regulus by your side and he would make someone go away if you were uncomfortable. “W-well, James invited me and- I was with my brother-”

“Relax, darling, I’m joking” he smirked, walking closer to you. 

“Oh” you smiled wearily. 

“It’s actually a bit… refreshing to have someone from another house” he said. 

“Um… thanks?”

“There’s something different about you” he said, eyeing you up and down. “I can’t quite put my finger on it” he said, making you pull your jacket a little closer.

“Hey! You finally came, love” you thankfully heard James’ voice coming towards you and wrapping his arm around your waist. “I thought you were standing me up” he said, kissing your head. 

“J-James, hi” you smiled relieved. 

“Sorry, mate, gotta steal her for a bit” he said, smirking at McLaggen who was glaring at him and he quickly pulled you aside. 

“Thank you” you told him as the two of you walked away.

“Don’t mention it, love. McLaggen’s a prick, why were you talking to him?”

“I wasn’t talking to him! He was talking to me” you insisted as James raised his eyebrow. “I was just getting a drink! And I was gonna go look for you-”

“Are you wearing my jacket?” he asked, confused. 

“Y-your… what?” you said, looking down at your jacket. “This is y-your jacket?” you asked confused. 

“Yeah” he smiled.

“Oh, I’m sorry, it was in Sirius’ trunk” you said, confused. “I thought-”

“Yeah, beautiful. I’m gonna save you some time, probably none of our clothes is in the correct trunk” he laughed. “Except Remus’” he added. 

“I’m sorry” you said, starting to take it off. 

“N-no! Don’t worry about it, gorgeous. Are you cold? Is that why you wanted my jacket? ‘Cause it looks good on you- I mean, you look beautiful tonight” he said smiling at you. “W-well, you always do” he added. 

“R-really?” you smiled, feeling your cheeks blush.

“Yeah” he nodded. “You don’t need the jacket if you ask me-”

“Oh, um, w-well…” you stuttered. “Sirius just… didn’t like my dress and said I needed a jacket” you rolled your eyes.  

“Well, Padfoot just needs to snog Moony and mind his business” he laughed, making you laugh as well. “You look beautiful with that dress” he smiled dreamily at you. 

“Thank you, James” you said, feeling your heart flutter. “Wait, you know about that?”

“How Sirius calls Moony ‘my’ love? Of course I do” he chuckled. “So, what took you so long to come? Were you crying all this time because your house lost?”

“Really? Did you want me to come just to brag about the match, Potter? I can still leave” you smirked as he handed you a drink. 

“Please don’t. I was so bored before you came” he said, walking you over to one of the sofas near a window. 

“I find that very hard to believe” you said, looking around. 

“Why do you always think I’m lying?” James asked, placing his hand on the sofa, behind you. 

“Because I’ve known you since I’m eleven?” you replied, making him glare at you a little. 

“That hurts, love” he said, trying to sound offended. “When have I ever lied to you?” 

“Well, for starters, you didn’t tell me that you, my brother, and Peter became Animagi to help Remus-”

“That was your brother. He didn’t let us tell you” he defended himself. 

“Alright” you said, trying to suppress your smile. “So, you’ve never lied to me?”

“Never, love” he insisted.

“Not even to avoid hurting my feelings?” you raised your eyebrow at him and noticed him tense a little. 

“N-no, of course not” he said, taking a sip of his drink. 

“So, last Christmas when you invited us over and your mum was teaching me how to cook, you actually liked the Christmas Pudding I made?” 

“Of course I did” he chuckled. 

“James” you glared at him. 

“Yes, love?” he smiled, goofily at you. 

“I mistakenly added salt instead of sugar, it was ruined” you laughed. 

“No, no. It wasn’t ruined. It gave it a new better taste” he shrugged. 

“James!” you laughed. 

“What? It’s true! I liked it” he insisted. 

“Nobody else ate it! You can’t possibly think it was good” you laughed. 

“Well, I did” he shrugged, turning your way. 

“You’re really stubborn, did you know that?” 

“Oh, and you’re not?” he laughed making you smile. “Have you… always been this beautiful?” 

“That’s so cheesy, Potter, even for your standards” you chuckled, feeling your cheeks burning. 

“Wait… do you-? Do you not believe me?” he asked, his tone getting serious. 

“I- um… I do” you said, unconvincingly. 

“You don’t” he said, turning himself to you. “It is one thing that you don’t believe that I liked your Christmas Pudding-”

“You didn't” you insisted. 

“But how can you not believe me about that?” 

“I do!” you insisted. “It’s just… I’m sorry, I’m being stupid” you smiled sadly, looking at your drink. 

“No, you’re not” James insisted, placing his hand under your chin to make you look at him. “What’s going on, love? Did- did I say something wrong?” 

“No!” you quickly said. “You never say anything wrong” you smiled sadly. “It’s just… I’m not really used to um… hearing that” you said, feeling your cheeks blush. 

“Love, I tell you that every single day! Why is it so hard for you to believe me?” 

“Because, James, look at my entire family” you said, sadly. “You know who I live with. My mother is not warm and loving like your mum is. I grew up very differently than you” you reminded him, making his look turn soft and his heart break a little. “I know you wouldn’t lie to me” you added. “It’s just… not easy for me to believe it, I guess” you smiled sadly. 

“Well, love” he said, moving closer to you and placing his hand softly on your cheek. “If you’re okay with it, I will keep saying it until you believe me” he told you. “Because you are the most beautiful person that I have seen in my life. And, since apparently I haven’t been as obvious as I thought I was, I am completely and madly in love with you and I would love to take you out on a date” he said, making your heart stop. 

“R-really?” you asked and he raised his eyebrows at you. “I m-mean, y-yes, I would love to go on a date with you” you smiled. “And… in case you didn’t know because I’m horrible at this… I am very much in love with you too” you added, making the biggest smile appear on James’ face. “And I also think you’re really beautiful” you said before he pulled you in to kiss you on the lips. 

“I love you, beautiful” he said, making you smile. 

“I love you too, Jamie” you said. “Can I ask you one more thing?”

“Anything” he said.

“Do you like Peppermint Toads?” you asked suddenly, remembering your conversation with Regulus. 

“Do I uh-” he frowned. “Why are you asking me that?” he chuckled nervously. 

“You always give me Peppermint Toads when you say you bought too many but… I don’t think I’ve seen you have one” you explained. 

“Well, love… I hate to break it to you, but nobody likes Peppermint Toads” he admitted. 

“That’s not true!”

“Yes, it is” he said, kissing your cheek. “I just bought them because you always smiled when I gave them to you” he said. “So, I’ll buy you as many as you want” he said, hugging you to him and giving you another peck on the lips. 

"Thanks, love" you smiled. "Can you now tell me if you actually liked my Christmas Pudding?"

"I did!"

The End

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A/N: I hope you loves liked it! :)

[ellecdc]

The Drink Snob (part 2)

Mafia AU!Remus Lupin x fem!reader - 4.5k

p1 // p2 // p3 // p4

CW: Brief description of blood, mention of crimes, past kidnapping, family dynamics, mention past death of a parent, pressure from friends to date, use of Y/N

Remus tried to ignore the snickering coming from the two men at the kitchen table as he scrubbed the blood from his hands, using the brush to get under his nails. 

“It’s not even that funny in theory, it’s just that it’s so un-Moony like that makes it funny.” James giggled, actually giggled, like a schoolgirl. Remus could kill him. 

“Wait, wait, wait.” Lily’s voice, authoritative and deep compared to James’ snickering, jumped in. “You’re telling me the plan was almost foiled because Remus got distracted flirting with a girl at the bar?” 

“Not only was the plan nearly foiled, Red,” Sirius offered between fits of laughter, “the dumb bloke nearly died.”

“I didn’t nearly die.” Remus spat under his breath. 

“His drink was spiked whilst he was busy ogling the bird – she had to stop him from taking a swig!” James completed, howling in laughter. 

Lily brought her hand up to her mouth in an ill attempt to hide her amusement as she turned her gaze to the guilty man. “Oh, Remus.” 

“We caught the bastard, didn’t we?” He barked, swatting James and Sirius on the back of their heads as he took a place at the kitchen table beside Harry. “Besides, James, you’re not supposed to refer to women as birds.” Remus enunciated, causing James to wince as he correctly presumed the whack of a tea towel was headed his way from his wife.

“Right you are, Remus. This is why you’re my favourite.” She said, winking at him. The other two men scoffed in mock outrage.

“But he almost blew the whole stake out!” James cried at the same time as Sirius countered with “I nearly blow all our missions because of my flirting, why am I not your favourite?” 

Lily rolled her eyes as a third voice popped up.

“You’re no one’s favourite Sirius, I can’t believe you still haven’t figured that out.” Regulus muttered as he placed a kiss to Lily’s head before moving to the table to place a matching one on James and Harry’s. 

Sirius scoffed, “and no kiss either. I see how it is.” He said as he crossed his arms. 

“Awe, Pads! If you wanted kisses, you only had to ask!” James hollered as he threw himself at his best friend and left loud, smacking kisses across his face.

“Ew! Get off of me! This is like incest!” Sirius screeched. 

Regulus rolled his eyes and turned to Remus. “Wanting a kiss from his actual brother is fine but his friend giving him a kiss is incest?”

“Stop trying to figure Sirius out, Reg, there’s no logic.” Remus countered with a smile. 

Remus was glad, really, that life turned out the way it had for him. He wasn’t always, mind you; having been thrown into the world of underground crime at an early age after his father, with hopes for a political career, accidentally offended a well-known crime lord in Southern UK. In retaliation, Remus had been abducted and initiated into their mob at only twelve years old and was only reunited with his father and mother at fifteen once his dad had turned to crime after the police claimed there was ‘nothing they could do’ to bring their son back home. 

Then, when he was 17, he met James and Sirius. They both came from money, and both had very different experiences as a result. James was somewhat spoilt but extremely loving and eager to spread the wealth. Sirius, on the other hand, had pushed back against his birth family as hard as he could before he finally left to stay with the Potter’s full time.

His younger brother, Reg, followed a few years later, and they’ve been with James and his parents ever since. James met Lily studying in University; Reg became enamoured with her just as quickly, though much more quietly than James had, and the rest, as they say, is history. 

The options for Remus’ family were slim to none after moving from Wales to London in order for him to attend school. University had not been in the plans for him as the Lupin family came from almost nothing, but they had earned enough in the mob to secure him a spot anyhow. They had hoped to leave the lifestyle behind them, but their resume was lacking after spending years in crime. Eventually, it was Remus’ mother, Hope Lupin, who found Effie which introduced Remus and his father into the Potter Agency.

A legal corporation with less than legal methods; they liked to believe they were some of the good guys.

The term ‘good’ is used lightly, of course.

There’s crime, theft, assault, torture, and sometimes even death, but they don’t do it for the money or notoriety – not really. 

Potter & Son’s Corporations acts as the authority when the police lose control of the situation. So much of the crime that takes place is through drugs and laundering – the kinds of things that the police are more than happy to turn a blind eye to so long as they’re being paid.

But when police are being paid off, other crimes – such as trafficking – start happening, and the police often find that their hands are “tied”. 

So, Potter & Son’s deal with it, and it helps.

At least that’s what Remus tells himself. 

He understood why Sirius and James stayed. Neither had a choice really, much like himself, but Sirius made the choice of the lesser of two evils – chaotic good (Potter's) versus chaotic evil (The Black family). As for James; this was his family business. He was Potter & Son before it became Son’s to accommodate Sirius, and later Reg and finally Remus. This was James’ legacy, and he now had a wife, a boyfriend and a son to continue protecting, and he did that by staying. 

Remus stayed because, well, it’s all there really is for him. Any background-check a potential employer could run on him would not only take him out of the running so fast, but they’d also likely even report him. His mom and dad had their part – running one of the many restaurants in the city that acted as the front for Potter & Son’s. 

But Remus wouldn’t wish this on anyone.

Not even the stranger – flustered, music theory, Disney quoting, sailor level swearing stranger that singlehandedly nearly killed him and then saved him within the span of two hours. 

She had been overwhelmingly distracting, and James was right; Remus was usually the one at attention always. He never got distracted on missions – that’s why he took the position in the bar to wait on the dirty fuck. James is overly friendly and likely to get distracted by any Tom, Dick or Nancy that walked through the door – and God forbid there’s a pub cat present. Sirius can’t stop flirting with anything with a heartbeat for more than a second, and he stands out a little too much anyway due to his last name.

Hence, Remus goes in.

Only to be utterly enchanted by a foreign PhD student whose nose was cold bitten red and her hair thoroughly crumpled from her obvious pulling. Remus tried to ignore her; he really did. He even thought he did a pretty good job when her damned pencil skirt rode up and exposed more of her tight-clad thighs as she sat on the barstool. He even ignored the way she played with her bottom lip between her thumb and index finger as she waited for the bartender to notice her.

But then she had to go and order a fucking negroni alongside a pint of beer. 

If she hadn’t looked like she tasted so sweet, Remus is sure he would have gagged outloud. 

And really, what is a proper Welsh bloke like him ought to do when he sees a crime against alcohol take place before his very eyes? By-stander he is not, good sir. 

But it didn’t matter. It had been too close. It was foolish. And dangerous. For both of them. 

He may not be able to save her from Gilderoy Lockhart, but he could save her from this. 

Regulus decided this was the perfect time to interrupt Remus’ inner ramblings. “So, when are you seeing her next?”

He stared at him dumbly. “Excuse me?”

“The girl, when are you seeing her next?” He clarified as he popped a cracker into his mouth.

“Come on, Moony, don’t tell me you didn’t close the deal!” Sirius commented from across the table.

“What? I- no. No, there was no deal to be closed, you prat.” Remus muttered for Sirius’ benefit. “It wasn’t like that.”

“‘It wasn’t like that’ he says, like he wasn’t wrapped around her little finger for two hours as she waxed poetic about the architecture of Manchester.” James sing songed.

“What” Remus sputtered, “she did not talk about Manchester architecture, James.”

“But you were wrapped around her finger?”

“Not that either!” He shouted. “Enough, it wasn’t like that, I’m not seeing her again. End of discussion.”

“Mm, kay, counter point: discussion not ended. What do you mean you’re not seeing her again?” Lily interjected. 

“I mean exactly that – I’m not seeing her again.”

“Rem,” Lily started softly, and he groaned knowing she was about to go all mama-bird on him. “When’s the last time you fancied someone like that? You’ve guffawed at everyone I’ve ever tried to set you up with.”

“Because they were all dull.” Remus muttered apparently not quietly enough as he was smacked up the back of his head.

“And you’ve never found yourself distracted on a job before. That has to mean something, right? Why not give it a shot?” She asked gently.

Remus chose to ignore the second part of her sentence altogether for the benefit of everyone. “Exactly, I’ve never been distracted on a job before. Something is clearly wrong with me, I think maybe we should all be a little bit more worried about that, hm?” 

Everyone rolled their eyes and turned back to their various tasks. For James, that meant holding a raspberry competition with his infant son, Reg and Sirius began rough housing which quickly turned into an actual knife fight, and Lily back to restocking the medicine cabinet. 

It was one job – I’m fine. I’ll likely never see her again. Remus thought to himself.

He tried not to let that thought upset him.

He failed.

Your encounter with The Man ™ as you’d started calling him in your head continued to bother you throughout the week. You thought you had been doing a pretty decent job keeping it from your thoughts: you guest lectured with no hiccups, your playing didn’t seem to be impacted and you kept up in orchestra well, and you even managed a facetime with your best friend Elle back home. 

Apparently zoning out in the middle of grading with your pen in your mouth was what finally gave you away.

“Miss. L/N?” Minerva called.

You quickly sat up straight. “Hm? I’m so sorry Professor, I-”

She waved you off with a kind smile. “My dear, I’ve told you to call me Minerva – as a PhD student, you’re more like my colleague than you are my student. I only meant to ask what has you so distracted. Are the first-year level quizzes on the basics of composition not riveting enough for you?” She asked gently, though her tone was often lost in her thick, stern sounding Scottish accent. 

“Sorry Pro- I mean, Minerva.” You caught yourself at her stern look. “I was just thinking that no one would know if I was missing.” 

Minerva dropped her pen and sat straight.

“My dear, what has you concerned. Has something-” she began to ask, but you cut her off.

“No, no. I’m fine, I just realized – if I go to a pub after school one day and something happens, no one will know to look for me. There’s no one at my apartment waiting for me at the end of the day, the landlord wouldn’t care until the end of the month when my rent was late, and even then, it’d be a while before she did anything about that. Students come and go from your life every day – if I wasn’t available to help grading or lecturing, you’d ask someone else. And that would be it. My friends back home would only realize I hadn’t been answering messages and would assume I’ve been busy.”

You looked up from the carpet where you had been zoned out. 

“And I don’t say any of that for sympathy. I just mean, well, someone ought to know – you know?”

Minerva considered your words before nodding slowly. 

“I’d notice. The second I had to settle for Mr. Lockhart’s subpar grading or lecturing.” 

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the matriarch. 

“Put me down as your emergency contact.” She added.

“I’m sorry?”

“With the school. And at your apartment. In your phone too if you can. Put me as your emergency contact. I’ll know then if anything happens.” She stated plainly as if she hadn’t just offered you an actual lifeline in Europe when you were thousands of kilometers from anyone who gave a damn about you.

“Thank you, Minerva.” You said softly.

The corner of her mouth quirked up, but she never moved her gaze from her papers.

“You’re very welcome, Y/N.” 

You sat in your apartment – or you supposed you should call it a flat, you were in England after all – and watched traffic outside of the window while you replayed your conversation with Elle.

“I’m just worried about you is all.” She said.

You rolled your eyes as you held the phone between your ear and shoulder and loaded the washing machine. 

“Why?”

“Why? Because! You’re all alone out there in a tiny apartment in a big city where you don’t know anyone!”

“Elle, I don’t see how that’s any different than what I had been doing last year. I did the exact same thing in New York, and you didn’t seem this concerned then.” You chided.

“Well-” she started. “Well, that was different.”

“How?”

“Because you were at least on the same continent as me. It was maybe a three-hour flight versus an eight. What else do you want me to say, Y/N?”

You sighed and threw your head back.

“I don’t want you to say anything Elle, I just don’t understand why we’re having this conversation.”

“It’s been almost six months.”

You stopped and stared at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. The six-month anniversary of your mom’s death was next week; you were well aware of that. It showed on your body, too, and you were glad Elle couldn’t see you now. You looked pale; your hair was dirty and piled messily on top of your head in a bun, though some locks were doing their damnedest to break free. Your clothes seemed to hang off your body in a way that hadn’t before as well; you made a mental note to figure that out at some point. 

“What about it?” You muttered, leaving the offending mirror behind you, and moving through your apartment (flat).

“Y/N/N, I just don’t think it’s healthy to be sitting in that apartment all alone. I mean, I know you haven’t been keeping in as much touch with the others, which is fair,” She emphasized the end as you began to defend yourself. “They don’t understand what it’s like to lose a parent or the intricacies of grad school, but still, it’s been noticed. And you haven’t dated since, what, Brian?”

“Brandon.” You corrected bitterly.

“Exactly, and how many years has that been?”

You moved your reading glasses to the top of your head and scrubbed your hand down your face. You loved Elle, you really did. But she was the kind of person to throw herself at life without self-reflection and that just wasn’t your style. She also lived by the motto that we were put on this earth to find our “other half”, and that all of lifes problems can be solved by finding someone to spend it with, which was another thing you just couldn’t get behind.

So, yes, it had been six years since your last relationship, and seeing as you weren’t the type to date around, you’d been single the entire time.

But you’ve been happy. 

You and your mom travelled a bit when she was still healthy. You attended Julliard to complete your master’s in music and spent time living in New York City. You played with the New York Philharmonic and in orchestra halls across North America. You went to the fucking Tony awards (as a seat filler, mind you, but still)!

“I just worry, Y/N. I mean, next thing I know, you’ll be telling me you’ve gotten yourself a cat or two!” She jested.

Your gaze shot to Huckleberry, the long-haired tom-cat you recently rescued from the local humane society, who was currently curled up on a throw blanket on your couch which you had yet to inform Elle about. You figured it could probably wait until your next chat with her.

“Don’t worry about me too much, Elle.” You sighed as you gave the feline a pat across the head.

“Someone has to.”

You fought the urge to groan – you knew she wasn’t trying, but this conversation was turning out to be more painful than you needed right now. The last thing you needed to be reminded of was how completely alone you were on this planet. If not for Elle and a few of your other mutual friends, you’d literally have Huckleberry and Minerva for company. And, God forbid, Gilderoy.

“I’ll talk to you later Elle.”

“Okay Y/N/N, be safe. Love you!”

“Love you.” You added before you hung up.

Part of you wondered if she was right about some things. Aren’t you meant to be meeting people? Making friends? That’s what people do when they relocate, right? 

You looked at your phone which sat on the couch behind you. It never lights up; no one’s looking for you. 

You didn’t much fancy downloading an app – it felt phony, like you were trying to sell yourself to someone. How else did people meet other people these days though?

School? Already there. Work?

Work.

I could get a job. 

You’ve been comfortable. Between funding from school and your mother’s life insurance, you hadn’t been too concerned for money though you had been living somewhat frugally. You supposed it wouldn’t hurt to have some pocket money, and maybe make a dent in your never-ending student loans. 

I'll get a job then. 

You’ve served at bars in Toronto and New York throughout school and worked as a waitress at different diners. Most people didn’t like working the service industry, but you didn’t much mind it; in cities that large, people are always in a hurry to get to somewhere else and don’t often stay long enough to really gather your interest. 

It’d be even better if I could find a job that involved music. 

Part of you still felt like an imposter. 

You’re working on your PhD, you studied music at Julliard, and played in world-renowned orchestras, but you still felt like you had no right holding a seat in the industry.

Fucking Gilderoy wasn’t helping that either. You thought darkly. 

“Right,” You told yourself aloud. “One thing at a time.”

And you looked up job opportunities online. 

The smell of garlic permeated Remus’ senses as he and Sirius stepped into his parent’s restaurant. 

Remus worked for a damn mob, yet somehow, his white-Welsh parents operating an Italian restaurant left him feeling dirty – though, his Da was always quick to state he was 37% Italian on his mother’s side, whatever that meant. 

He followed the sound of cursing and found his mum in her office. 

“Oi, mum, who has you so wound up? I want names and addresses.” Sirius said as he plopped himself down onto one of the chairs opposite of Hope Lupin’s desk and kicked his Doc Marten clad feet up onto it.

“Sirius, I love you, but it’ll be your name and address I give out if you don’t get your sodding feet of my desk.” Hope stated sweetly without looking up from the papers on her desk. “Hi, cariad’s.”

“Hey mum, what’re you working on?” Remus replied as he sat (properly) in the chair beside Sirius.

She sighed and turned to look at the two boys. “Well, you remember the issues we were having with our new hire last week?”

Sirius looked up from his phone at this. “Hot Stephanie?”

Hope rolled her eyes, “Yes, Stephanie. Well, we had to let her go.”

“Awe mum, I’m sorry. Do you need a hand around here until you find more help?” Remus asked quickly.

Hope turned a soft smile in her son’s direction, her green eyes crinkling in the corners. “As much as I’d love having you around, cariad, I’m still recovering from you and James helping out last summer.”

Remus grimaced while Sirius barked a laugh. He and James had their strengths – but working the service industry apparently wasn’t one of them. 

“Besides, I’ve got a few good candidates here I think.” She said and gestured to a pile of CVs on her desk. “This lass sounds promising.”

“Yes, mummykins! Hire another hottie for us.” Sirius cheered. 

“That’s enough out of you.” Hope chided as she swatted him with her stack of resumes. “She’s got plenty of experience in restaurants and bars, and she may even be able to offer live music for us!”

“That’s sweet of you Hope, giving jobs to starving artists.” Sirius said looking back at his phone. 

“She did look a little peaky.” Hope admitted, “But I’m sure that’s on account of her recent move. She’s American.” 

“What?” Remus snapped.

His mum hummed. “Yup, she went to Julliard, served as a bartender and server in Toronto and New York pubs. She should work out really well!”

“Let me see this.” Remus muttered, snatching the CV unceremoniously from my mother’s hands.

Y/N L/N. University of Toronto / The Julliard School / Royal College of Music. Guest lecturer, experience in classical and contemporary performance and composition, teacher’s assistant, bartender, and server. The names of the various restaurants and bars you worked at were listed but they blurred in his vision.

“What has gotten into you, cariad.” Hope gently chided as she took the CV back from his hands. 

“What did she look like?” Remus spat.

“Pardon me?” 

Remus described you; he described your skin tone – a match. Your eyes? A match. Your hair colour and length? A match. 

“Shorter?”

Hope rolled her eyes. “Not everyone can be as tall as you and your father, Remus.”

“Mum, answer the question.”

She scoffed. “Yes, I suppose she was a little short.”

“You can’t hire her.”

“Excuse me?” She asked incredulously.

“Oh my God.” Sirius finally interjected, taking the CV from Hope’s hands. “Is this The Girl?”

“The girl?” She asked.

Remus snatched the CV back out of Sirius’ hands and placed it back in the pile onto his mum’s desk. 

“Who’s The Girl?” Hope asked, but it was obvious she was asking Sirius. 

“Oh, you should have seen it, Mum. We were on a stake out for one of McCormick’s crew at The Drunken Sailor, and Remus got all caught up chatting this pretty little lady at the bar. He didn’t even notice-” 

“I didn’t even notice that the bloke had come in until he went to leave.” Remus interrupted, not wanting to worry his mum by telling her how close he came to dying.

“Right...” Sirius continued, squinting his eyes at Remus. “Anyways, looks like you found The Girl who distracted our darling Remus here.”

Hope’s gaze was full of mirth as she turned to look at her son.

“So, you meet my dream employee at a bar one night and don’t even introduce me?”

“Mum, it wasn’t like that.” Remus whined, thoroughly annoyed by this conversation.

“Fine, but I’m sorry cariad, she’s the only one who applied who was worth my time, in fact, she’s likely overqualified. I’m arranging an interview.” 

Remus sighed in defeat. So much for keeping her out of this mess.

Continue to part three here 🥃

[ahqkas]

A funny little request of gf!reader who had a lot of brothers so she always had gotten into play fights with them. Soon into the future mattheo challenged her to an arm wrestle only to be completely stumped at her beating him.

STRONGER THAN ALL MY MEN ; mattheo riddle

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

GROWING UP IN A HOUSE FULL OF BROTHERS, YOU HAD ALWAYS BEEN BROUGHT INTO A WORLD OF PLAYFUL ROUGHHOUSING AND FRIENDLY COMPETITIONS. You were no stranger to the feel of a playful punch, the exhilaration of a well-executed tackle, or the strategic maneuvering needed to win an important wrestling match. It was in this home that you had gotten your strength and resilience, learning to hold your own and even come out on top more often than not. Your brothers had instilled in you a sense of fierce competitiveness, one that you carried into every aspect of your life.

So when Mattheo, with his cocky grin and challenging eyes, proposed an arm-wrestling match, you couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement. You had grown to love Mattheo's confidence and his restless spirit, but this was an arena where you felt particularly confident. You accepted his challenge with a smirk, a glint of determination in your eyes.

The two of you found a sturdy table in the common room, drawing the curious gazes of a few fellow students. Mattheo rolled up his sleeves, exposing his muscular forearms, and settled into his chair, his expression one of easy confidence. You took your seat opposite him, rolling up your own sleeves and revealing arms that, while not as bulky, were lean and defined from years of spirited competition with your brothers.

"Ready to be beaten by a girl?" you teased, arching an eyebrow as you clasped his hand.

"We'll see about that," Mattheo shot back, his grin widening. His eyes sparkled with amusement, but there was also a flicker of genuine curiosity. He was used to being strong, to winning physical fights with ease. The thought of you beating him was both surprising and strangely thrilling.

Lorenzo, who had been observing the scene from a distance, decided to take on the role of referee. With a dramatic flourish, he placed his hands on top of yours and Mattheo's clasped hands, looking between the two of you with a twinkle in his eye. "On my count," he announced. "Three, two, one . . . go!"

The initial push was intense. Mattheo's strength was evident, his muscles tensing as he applied pressure. But you met his force with equal determination, your grip steady and your arm unwavering. The crowd around you leaned in, eyes wide with anticipation.

As the seconds ticked by, it became clear that this was not going to be an easy win for Mattheo. His brow furrowed in concentration, a bead of sweat forming at his temple. You could feel his surprise through the subtle shifts in his grip, the way his eyes flicked to yours, searching for some sign of strain. But you held his gaze steadily, your arm a pillar of strength.

Gradually, you began to gain the upper hand. It was a slow, inexorable push, your arm moving inch by inch as you leveraged the years of playful battles with your brothers. The crowd around you erupted in cheers and gasps as you edged closer to victory. Mattheo's expression shifted from confident to incredulous, then to something close to admiration.

With one final, decisive push, you slammed his hand down onto the table. The room exploded in applause and laughter, the sound reverberating off the stone walls. Mattheo stared at his defeated hand for a moment, then looked up at you with a mixture of shock and respect.

"You . . . you actually beat me," he said, a grin breaking across his face.

"I told you," you replied, your own grin widening. "Growing up with a bunch of brothers has its advantages."

Mattheo shook his head, still smiling. "You're incredible, you know that?"

You shrugged playfully, though you couldn't hide the pride in your eyes. "Just don't forget it next time you decide to challenge me."

He reached across the table and took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I won't. And I have to admit, I kind of like this side of you."

As the crowd began to disperse, leaving the two of you alone at the table, you felt a warmth spread through you. It wasn't just the victory that made you feel good; it was the way Mattheo looked at you, with genuine admiration and love.

[ladymoody]

Hiii I recently found your blog and I loved how you wrote the first fanfic could you please please make a story with enzo beekshire where he’s like our brother’s best friend and when he invites him over he sneaks in our room and you know… please make it smut

MY BROTHER'S FRIEND

lorenzo berkshire x fem!reader

concept: your brother theodore invited his friend lorenzo for a sleepover. you and he knew each other as he was often at your house to spend time with your brother, but tonight he couldn't hold back anymore.

cw: swearing, explicit language, fingering, sex (p in v penetration), cum

[ character from: harry potter fancast ]

I was in my room reading, completely lost in world of fantasy, until I heard a knock on my door.

"mh... come in." I said, not even taking my eyes off my book. My elder brother theodore opened the door and leaned against the doorframe. "my friend's coming tonight."

"who."

"enzo."

"who?" theo sighed.

"my friend. brown hair, brown eyes... he could be your type, actually." he joked.

"oh shut up, theo."

"just playing, sis... I won't let you lie a single finger on my fellas." he said as he walked out and closed the door behind him.

my brother was so annoying. it was not the first time he had brought his friends over, especially enzo who was often at our house, and it was fine with me as long as they didn't disturb me. I just wanted to stay in my little world in my room, which my brother used to call a "girly cave", and stay unbothered from men's presence.

the clock soon struck 8pm which had always been around the time when theodore welcomed his friends in. in fact, not so many minutes later, I heard my brother talking and an unknown voice answering.

I stayed on my cozy bed in my dim-lit room, fully immersed in the intriguing novel in my hands.

margaret's arms were all around jake's neck as they kept making out in the shower. jake was panting heavily and margaret couldn't help but moan every time jake squeezed her ass. she soon broke the kiss and rested her forehead against his - jake's right hand started to wander on her inner thigh expertedly, slowly and teasingly touching her clit.

I immediately snapped back to reality, panickingly throwing the book in the air as my bedroom door opened.

"hey sis, just wanted to tell you enzo and I are watching a film in my room." enzo was standing next to him and I couldn't help but check him out a little, taking in his appearance and forgetting to try to look subtle. he had fluffy, almost wavy brown hair — brown eyes, a tall figure, and a slim body. he was wearing a black sweater and a pair of blue jeans, and I couldn't help noticing the earring he was wearing, which I found extremely sexy.

enzo eyed me up back, smirking still from my book-throwing of a few seconds ago.

"hi." I sheepishly said to him. he just kept his gaze on me and stared at my bare thighs longer than necessary.

"if you need me, we're there." he said as they both left my room, shutting the door behind them.

(skip time)

I woke up confused and thirsty, the lights of my room still on, and the book that was previously in my hands was now left on my bed opened to a random page. I rubbed my eyes slowly beginning to register what was going on, and so realizing that I might've fallen asleep.

I looked at my clock on my nightstand and noticed that it was past midnight. I groaned and sat up, still taking a few moments to fully wake up from my quite long nap. I got up and walked out of my room, trying to be as quiet as possible as I didn't know if my family was already sleeping.

as I walked down the corridor, I saw the light of my brother's room cursing under the door chink, which meant that he and enzo were still awake. I knocked on the door.

no one answered. maybe they fell asleep forgetting to turn the lights off just like me.

I walked away and headed towards the bathroom to take a shower. I opened the door and looked at myself in the mirror, noticing my eye bags and messy hair.

I started to take my shirt off, then my shorts and my underwear, and in the end I opened the shower curtain to turn on the shower and get the hot water.

I screamed and immediately bent over to collect my clothes and press them against my naked figure, in an attempt to cover my body. there was enzo standing in the bathtub lathering up his body, he was shocked as well, but not as much as me since he didn't even try to cover up his crotch.

"is knocking no longer a trend anymore?" he said, a bit upset and a bit amused.

"I made a lot of noise! you could've let me know you were in here too!"

enzo rolled his eyes and spoke again. "lower your voice, or you'll wake theo up."

"I want to wake him up! he needs to know his friend is a damn pervert!" I was about to leave but he leaned out to grab my arm.

"oh you wouldn't dare."

my eyes widened in shock and almost disgust, but I won't lie saying I hadn't minded seeing his naked body.

"why won't you join me?"

I blushed hard. did he really ask me that? is he crazy? why was I nodding?

he smirked to himself as he saw me agreeing and gestured for me to get in with him.

I hesitantly removed the clothes from my body and let them drop back on the floor. I looked at him to see if he was making eye contact with me, but he wasn't — he was staring at my body in awe.

I made my way into the bathtub and joined him, now his gaze was on my face as he couldn't stop grinning at me, hip bottom lip between his teeth.

he didn't waste any time and immediately grabbed the back of my thighs to lift me up, then he pushed me against the cold and wet wall of the shower and held my legs tight around his waist. I automatically rested my hands on his lower chest, our eyes not leaving each other for one second.

with one of his hands he reached the tap and turned the water on to muffle the noise we'll have made. and eventually he pressed his lips against mine.

the kiss was slow at first, our heads often tilting to opposite sides to kiss more easily. I moved my arms around his neck, pulling him closer by the back of his head.

after some time of making out, I felt his hand leaving my thigh and rub against my clit. I gasped and threw my head back on the wall, my eyes shut and my mouth hanged open. he soon slipped two fingers inside of me, making me moan in pleasure as he started to pump them in and out.

"enzo..." I moaned, clinging onto his back.

"mhh... I've wanted to do this since I first saw you." he moaned back.

I was in complete ecstasy as I felt the hot water running on our bare skin — the noise of it taking over our moans of lovemaking — the feeling of his soft lips against mine, and his slender and long fingers fucking my pussy. he knew what he was doing.

"I'm so close…" I whined, almost begging him to let me release.

"hold on, baby. not like this…" he took his fingers out of me, leaving me a needy mess, and grabbed his now hard erection. he started stroking it a bit, then I felt his tip lining up against my folds.

I screamed as he pushed it inside of me without any warning, he stayed inside to let me adjust to his size, and then he began to thrust.

I could feel my walls wrap around him instantly, his thrusts not gentle at all so I could tell he has wanted this for quite a long time. he buried his face in the crook of my neck, often leaving wet kisses on my shoulder. suddenly we heard a knock on the door.

"enzo?" my brother called out. but enzo didn't bother to stop fucking me.

"it's me! I'm in the shower!" he answered.

"well, hurry up, I have to use the bathroom as well!" theo said back and then we heard his steps growing less and less loud as he walked away.

in the meantime I was completely in another universe — enzo's hand had covered my mouth to not let my brother find out what we were up to, while he kept up with his merciless thrusts.

"you're taking it so well..." he groaned into my ear. I dug my nails into his back, making him moan a little more at the painful pleasure of my gesture, and then I hit my orgasm.

the idea of making me come made enzo come right after me within a few seconds — I felt his thrusts getting faster and faster as he buried himself completely inside of me, and in the end, he pulled out cumming on my lower belly.

he kissed my forehead and put me down on my feet, making me stumble a bit from the intensity of what had just happened.

"don't tell your brother, will you, baby?" he stroked my cheek, then he turned the water off and opened the curtain.

I shook my head and he grinned at me before making his way out of the shower and wrapping a towel around his waist.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN! ᯓᡣ𐭩

author’s note: hii!! this was my first request and I hope that I satisfied it :) I spent days writing this story because I wanted it to be perfect, yet it turned out to be just decent. I know the person who made the request asked me to make enzo sneak into our room, but I couldn’t find the purpose of that so I changed it a bit and made them have sex in the shower. I hope you liked it anyway♡︎ sorry for answering your request so late! love u guys!!!💜💜

comment if you’d like to be added in my taglist to never miss my updates. 🥀

[queen-paladin]

disclaimer: yes, I am complaining about cheating in media. Because, yes, writers have the freedom to create what they want but if the morality in creation is free for all forms of media, but no piece of art is exempt from criticism, and that includes criticism on personal moral grounds. I betcha if I said Harry Potter is good, actually, everyone on here would flood my blog telling me I am wrong because of the author's intense prejudice. That being said, I am criticizing cheating in fiction, If you don't like that, don't interact

So often lately I see period dramas where the husband cheats on the wife (ex. Poldark, The Essex Serpent, Queen Charlotte, The Great)...and not only do I despise the cheating trope with every fibre of my being to where I get panic attacks when I consume the media...but specifically with period dramas...

Do these writers not understand the greater implications of a husband cheating on a wife during these periods? More than just the humiliation and heartbreak in the case of a loving, good marriage just like it is today.

In the Western world, probably until certain laws were enacted in the 1900's, if a woman married a man, she was legally his property. She had no legal identity under him. She was financially dependent on him. Any wages she made would automatically go to her husband. Her children were also not legally her children- they belonged to the father. If the husband died, even if the wife was still alive, the children were legally considered orphans.

Women could only rarely gain a divorce from their husbands. In England in the mid-1800's specifically, if a wife divorced a husband she had to prove he had to not only cheat but also be physically abusive, incestuous, or commit bestiality. On the other hand, a husband could divorce a wife just for being unfaithful. Because, kids, there were sexual double standards.

Getting married was often the endgame for a lot of women during that time. Sometimes you couldn't make your own living enough- marriage was a way to secure your entire future financially, with more than enough money to get by. If you were a spinster and middle class, you could get by with a job. But if you are an upper-class lady, the one thing a lady does not do is get a job and work. So upper-class spinsters basically were dependent on their families to get by (ex. Anne Elliott in Persuasion faces this with her own toxic family). As strange as it sounded today, marriage gave them some freedom to go about since a husband could be persuaded sometimes more easily than a father and one had a different home, their servants, etc. A husband was your foundation entirely for being a part of society, and standing up as your own woman.

So if a husband cheated on a wife, that was a threat to take all of that away.

He could give a lot of money that could be used to support his wife and children to the mistress. He could completely abandon said wife for the mistress. And since the wife legally couldn't get a job as he still lived, she would be dependent on any money he would said- and that is IF he sent over any money.

He could take her to court and publicly humiliate her to get a divorce away from her (look up the separation of Charles and Kate Dickens, he would call her mentally ill and say her cooking was bad and that she was having more children than they could keep up with all while having an affair and divorcing her to be with the misteress). And even if the wife was the nicest, more proper, goodest, more rule-abiding never-keeping-a-toe-out-of-line lady in town...as a man, the law was default on his side (look up Caroline Norton's A Letter to the Queen which details exactly that, the poor woman had her earnings as a writer taken by her husband and was denied access to her children from said husband)

So yeah...even if there was "no love" between them (and anytime the wife is portrayed as too boring or too bitchy so He HaS tO cHeAt is brought up is...pretty victim blamey)

So yeah. Period drama writers, if you have the husband have an affair ...just consider the reality of these things and address them, maybe punish the husband for once (*gasp* men facing consequences for their actions?!?!!), and if not, just please find other options and other tropes and devices for once.

[witchthewriter]

𝐇𝐨𝐠𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝

Like I did with the moral alignments, I thought I would make a post about why and how I sort characters into Hogwarts Houses! There are also quizzes so you can figure it out for yourself as well. I go into detail about each House, what they represent, their background and what it means to be sorted into a certain House. 

I hope you enjoy!

*just because I’m talking about Harry Potter doesn’t mean I align with the transphobic views of J.K. Rowling. There is no room for transphobia on my page, and I support the trans and LGBTQIA+ community*

Figuring out which Hogwarts House you belong to has been around since the HP series came out. But I think there’s more to it than simply choosing to be in ‘the brave house’ or ‘the smart house.’ I think it reveals a lot about a person - or rather, a large aspect. 

Here are a few tests for you to try, comment below what you got!

Test 1 (the ‘official’ Wizarding World quiz)

Test 2 (from IDRlabs, they have other personality quizzes as well!)

Test 3 (Here’s the full Pottermore quiz. The 1st quiz will only have a few questions, so that’s why I don’t think it’s fully accurate to take)

Test 4 (A really good one from Quotev, the questions/answers aren’t obvious)

Gryffindor: Do what is right. Hufflepuff: Do what is kind.  Ravenclaw: Do what is wise. Slytherin: Do what is necessary.

𝐆𝐑𝐘𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐑

“ Where dwell the brave at heart, their daring, nerve and chivalry set Gryffindors apart “

𝐸𝑙𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡: Fire

𝐹𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦: ‘Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor’, Godric Gryffindor. 

Dwelled at Godric’s Hollow

Was an accomplished dueller

A fair man, he believed that any child who displayed magical abilities before their 11th birthday should be able to attend Hogwarts.

Gryffindor was the original owner of the Sorting Hat

Gryffindor also had a sword made, which would present itself to any true Gryffindor in a moment of need.

He was allegedly the best friend of Slytherin before he left Hogwarts

Godric will always be known for his accomplished skills in battle, and his fight against Muggle discrimination in the wizarding world.

𝐸𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑖𝑠𝘩𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑡𝑠:

Courage

Bravery

Standing up for what you believe in - even if your voice shakes. 

Caring about the greater good 

Daring/Bold 

Having a deep need to do the right thing 

Standing out from the crowd

𝐶𝘩𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑠 𝐻𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑒:

Lucy Pevensie

Thor

Mulan

Katniss Everdeen

Merida

Batman/Bruce Wayne

Buffy Summers

Chandler Bing

𝐇𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐏𝐔𝐅𝐅

“ You might belong in Hufflepuff, Where they are just and loyal. Those patient Hufflepuffs are true. And unafraid of toil. “

𝐸𝑙𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡: Earth

𝐹𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦: ‘From valley broad,’ Helga Hufflepuff

A kind and warm woman who believed in loyalty, patience and hard-work as the best abilities a person can possess

Was a brilliant cook and had remarkable skills for preparing food. Her recipes are still used in Hogwarts to this day.

She brought the house-elves to Hogwarts

Owner of Hufflepuff’s Cup

She was the best friend of Rowena Ravenclaw

𝐸𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑖𝑠𝘩𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑡𝑠:

Loyalty

A need for justice. A lot of the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor traits are intertwined, but the difference is that Gryffindors don’t need to know a person to feel the need to look out for them. 

Patient 

Believe in fairness and equality (Helga Hufflepuff was the only founder who believed everyone should have a fair chance in being taught)

Accepting

Thinks about other people more than themselves

Would do anything at all, for family 

𝐶𝘩𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑠 𝐻𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑒:

Edmund Pevensie

Antman

Jay Gatsby

Okoye

Samwise Gamgee

Michael Scott

Alfred Pennyworth

Joey Tribbiani

Phoebe Buffay

𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐖

“ Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, If you’ve a ready mind, Where those of wit and learning, Will always find their kind. “

𝐸𝑙𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡: Air

𝐹𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦: ‘From Glen,’ Rowena Ravenclaw

A sharp and intelligent woman

She wanted to make Hogwarts the finest wizarding school in the world, teaching only those with the highest intelligence 

Rowena wore a diadem that was said to grant wisdom to the wearer, however, Rowena’s own daughter grew jealous of her mother’s incredible intelligence. Helena Ravenclaw stole her mother’s diadem and ran away, a fact that Rowena kept hidden from her fellow founders even when she fell ill.

Wanting to see Helena before she died, Rowena sent a man to bring Helena home. Unfortunately, that man was the Bloody Baron, who was in love with Helena, and stabbed her in a rage when she refused to come home.

 After Helena was tragically killed, legend tells us that Rowena Ravenclaw died of a broken heart. 

She was the best friend of Helga Hufflepuff

𝐸𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑖𝑠𝘩𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑡𝑠:

Intelligence

Wisdom

Witty

Open-minded - don’t mix well with traditional, close-minded people. Ravenclaws see the big picture, they think about what things could be, rather than what things are. 

They think outside of the box, they don’t like being confined by rules or traditions. 

Unique 

Individualistic/Original

Actually very intuitive

𝐶𝘩𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑠 𝐻𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑒:

Susan Pevensie

Sherlock Holmes

Bruce Banner

James Bond

Annabeth Chase

Mary Poppins

Gandalf

Monica Geller

Ross Geller

𝐒𝐋𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍

“ Or perhaps in Slytherin, You’ll make your real friends. These cunning folk use any means to achieve their ends. “

𝐸𝑙𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡: Water

𝐹𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦: ‘From Fen’, Salazar Slytherin

He believed strongly that only wizards of pure blood 

This belief caused a big rift between the founders, especially Gryffindor, which led to the depature of Salazar 

Despite his flaws, Salazar was a talented wizard, skilled in Legilemency and Parseltongue

Before he left, however, he created the Chamber of Secrets

𝐸𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑖𝑠𝘩𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑡𝑠:

Ambition

Determination

Cunning

Traditional

Strategic

Willing to do whatever it takes to achieve their goals; even using others for their gain. 

Not all Slytherins use these traits for personal gain, however, because the founder was evil - doesn’t mean every Slytherin is. 

Resourceful

Cleverness

Family means a lot to them

Desires respect

𝐶𝘩𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑠 𝐻𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑒:

Peter Pevensie

Natasha Romanoff

Daenerys Targaryen

Lady MacBeth

Wednesday Addams

Selina Kyle/Catwoman 

Rachel Green

Harley Quinn

[mellifluousmalfoy]

cyclamen. // tom riddle x reader.

warnings; death, angst, a lot of it. sorry.

i listened to once more to see you by mitski quite a lot while writing this over the course of two years. i sincerely hope you enjoy this piece.

wc; 7.3k

It felt as though the world had grown silent as this monster stood in front of my peers and I, announcing the death of our classmate who was our last hope.

I glanced around the courtyard that was now in ruins and watched as all hope and faith was drained from my peers. My ears rang as I watched as the monster's lips moved, but I couldn't seem to hear a thing. My sight blurred as I lost track of what was happening around me.

Harry Potter was dead.

I could barely comprehend what was happening around me, only feeling a cold hand take hold of mine, dragging me through the bustling crowd. I noticed it was McGonagall herself holding my hand, not even taking a glance back at me as she continued to drag me deeper into the castle.

We came to a stop at one of the few classrooms that were still intact and she dragged me in before shutting the door tightly behind her. I came to and realised that all of the few teachers were there along with a few parents.

A lot of hushed whispers filled the room as Professor McGonagall tried to calm them down. The room turned quiet after she muttered something that had their shoulders relaxing even if it was only a little bit, but now they all turned to me.

McGonagall cleared her throat before finally addressing me, “(L/N), I’m sure you’re confused as to why we have brought you here,” she paused, stepping toward me before continuing, “but with Harry’s death we have turned to a new plan, a plan given by Dumbledore.”

She touched at her pocket, hinting at the contents in it before she pulled out a piece of parchment that was neatly folded, sealed with bright red wax and the Hogwarts crest. She handed the parchment to me without much hesitation.

I felt confused. Out of all the students in my school, why me? I wasn’t the brightest, and I was definitely not important like a few of my classmates were. I was but a shadow to the rest of the school, yet this was assigned to me of all people.

I tore the red wax with shaky hands and slowly unfolded the paper. The letter left me in awe. Surely they hadn’t expected me to go through with this, right? I had never expected them to send me back in time, nevertheless to kill Voldemort himself. Of course, under the guise of enamouring him.

Again I asked, why me?

Before I could understand what was happening, a potion was handed to me, and I was given strict instructions on consumption by Slughorn. You will not be able to return until the mission is complete.

And before I knew it, I swallowed the potion per Slughorn’s instruction, a letter addressed to the past Dumbledore in hand.

I swallowed the lump in my throat before making my way to the DADA classroom, where McGonagall assured me Dumbledore would be at this hour, whatever hour it was in the past.

The door was ajar so I walked myself in, coming face to face with a slightly more youthful version of my past Headmaster. He glanced up from his work at the sound of someone entering, and he observed me with a curious eye.

I stood silently in the doorway, playing with the letter that was still held tightly in my hands.

“You’re not from here, are you?” His voice broke me out of my daze. He spoke up again after gazing over my confused expression, “This time, perhaps?”

Shock glazed over my face as he simply stared at me, amused.

“H-How did you-“

“You wear a Hogwarts uniform, but not of this era.” His reply was assertive and knowing, “And you seem rather shocked to see me.”

I couldn’t bring it in myself to say, Well, you see you were the headmaster of the school that everyone had idolised, you were loved by everyone, even your worst foes. Oh, and you were killed by one of the people who loved you most!

I simply sighed in defeat before picking up the courage and stepping closer to him until I reached his desk, handing the letter to his hand which was already held out to take it.

He read over the letter, expression barely changing, but it was all in his eyes. Bewilderment, shock, hurt.

Once he had finished reading, he refolded the letter before glancing up at me, “And you’re sure to achieve this? You’re ready to accept the consequences?”

I sighed shakily, pulling at my fingers before replying, “Yes, Professor.”

-

After having been privately sorted, Dumbledore escorted me to the Great Hall where everyone seemed to be eating dinner. Everything looked so, for lack of a better term, old. The Great Hall appeared exactly the same as it did when I first stepped into the large building in my first year.

But my first year is fifty years from now. Fifty years Voldemort would be a ruthless monster. Voldemort- Tom- was in this very room, and I could feel every hair on my body stand at that very thought.

Dumbledore nudged me towards my house table, and I quickly sat down so as not to grab any attention, but I could feel everyone staring, and they have every right to. Why would a seventh year be starting now? Why not start in their first year?

I laughed at the thought. Of course, I had discussed this with Dumbledore, and he had said I should stay under the guise of an exchange student from a school such as Durmstrang or Beauxbatons, and I quickly agreed.

I was to be a distant niece of his who had been living with his great aunt, and I moved with him after her death. He "thought" it to be convenient for the both of us if I attended Hogwarts for my last year.

I snapped to reality when my plate was somehow emptied, and a pair of polished neat black shoes showed up in my peripheral vision. I glanced up at the new face and was met with dark brown, almost black, eyes.

I studied every feature of his face and found that he was dashing, an incredibly pristine handsome face. His pale skin contrasted with his pitch-black hair and highlighted the gold specks that could barely be seen in his dark eyes. As my eyes raked down to his neck, there was a Slytherin tie tied to perfection that lay so elegantly on his freshly ironed white button-down which could be seen under his grey vest which had green accents that complimented the bright hue of his tie. And on his robe, the head boy badge shone a bright hue of gold.

His chest was puffed out and everything about him screamed as if he thought he was superior to everyone in this room.

Before I knew it, I was staring, and the stranger could tell. I turned red at the realisation that he had caught me staring. He cleared his throat before introducing himself, "You're the new seventh year that Dumbledore mentioned," his voice was monotone, sly and low, "he had instructed me to show you around and to your common room, as the head boy, I gladly took this duty."

He spoke with as much confidence as he walked with. He knew he had charm, and he knew how to use it. I simply nodded in reply, not wanting to tell him I knew these halls like the back of my hand.

"Well," he drew out impatiently, turning to leave the bustling hall, "come on then."

I stood up clumsily, "Oh, sorry," before scattering to follow him as he exited the hall.

Once I had caught up to him we mostly walked in silence, occasionally pointing out different parts of the school such as the library, and the various bathrooms. He had shared small histories about the building that I had learnt in my third year but had long forgotten. Once we came to a stop in front of my common room door I awkwardly turned to face him, "By the way," I shuffled on my feet as I tried my best to hold eye contact with the cold but devilishly handsome man, "I'm (L/n). (Y/n) (L/n)."

He stared at me, back straight as ever, not a stray hair in sight, "Pleasure," he paused, leaning down to reach my height, "Riddle. Tom Riddle."

My ears began to ring, my world began to turn; The handsome stranger was the man who killed Harry Potter.

I swallowed back a shaky breath, nodding softly at him, before turning towards the entrance, and stepping into the familiar room. I could feel his eyes bore holes into the back of my head; he obviously read my body language and saw my reaction to his name.

My world continued to spin even after the entrance closed on his dark brown eyes, and suddenly I felt sick and could no longer stomach my dinner.

-

"You must be really good at adapting to your surroundings," Augusta Crouch, my herbology seatmate and self-assigned tour guide, chirped brightly from beside me. She had somehow managed to find out that we had almost all our classes together, "it almost seems as though you know the place better than I-"

I turned confusedly at the sudden end to her normally long rants and turned to the direction that she stared at like a deer in headlights. I caught the gaze of those familiar dark eyes and fought the urge to turn pale at the sight of him. Just the thought of him repulsed me, and somehow, I was supposed to seduce the monster.

He leaned nonchalantly against the wall, directly across from the Transfiguration classroom. He raised an eyebrow as I held his gaze with shielded eyes before standing up properly, back as straight as a ruler, "We have Charms together. Shall I accompany you both?"

Augusta slowly released my arm and I begged Merlin for her to hold on before gesturing towards the opposite direction of Charms, "I am actually on my way to the library, Charms is a soft option in my opinion," I knew she had failed her Charms O.W.L because she had been complaining about it to me earlier, "I'll see you later, (L/n)."

I nodded silently before I met those dark eyes once again. He held out his arm and I forced myself to link mine to his, and so we set off to Charms.

"How exactly was it that you knew we had Charms together but Augusta didn't?" I asked before I could hold my tongue, all muscles in my body were tense whenever I was near him.

"As head boy, I ensure that all students are happy and comfortable." He stated with that charming blank smile that had all the professors swooning.

As soon as we arrived at Charms, I ran out of his arms and situated myself in a seat with a housemate that seemed familiar enough. I sighed to myself as I thought over how ridiculous I have been the past few days I've attended this olden Hogwarts; barely casting a glance to Vold- Tom- but being friendly enough so as not to raise any suspicions. To anyone on the outside, they would assume I was simply playing "hard to get", which was true since I did not want to be "gotten" by this man- boy at this stage- but that was beside the point. I had a mission, and I was sure to complete it.

I bit my lip and decided to suck it up with that determination in mind. I turned to where I assumed Tom would be sitting, found the seat next to him unoccupied, and rushed to sit next to him. He raised an eyebrow at my odd sudden change in behaviour but chose not to comment on it, for which I was grateful. I settled at the table and pulled out the equipment we needed for the class- which Dumbledore picked up for me thankfully- and acted as if I wasn't behaving strangely.

I muddled over what I had to do to grow close with this cold man slowly but surely. Putting on my best frown of confusion halfway through the class, I turned to him, "Tom," he perked up at his name, surprised we were already on a first-name basis but simply raised an eyebrow in my direction, "what exactly does this mean? We weren't taught this material at Beauxbatons."

"Weren't taught one of the most basics of basics in Charms?" He raised an eyebrow at me incredulously, and though I didn't appreciate the passive aggression behind his tone, I ignored it and continued to play dumb and shrugged. He sighed and although I could see he didn't exactly, believe me, he proceeded to explain it to me, and with that, he concluded that he needed much more time than what was left in Charms because he gave me a time and location before I could ask any more questions, claiming "A tutor session will do you some good, (L/n)."

Now the plan was in motion, all I had to do was go along with it.

-

Spending time with Tom hadn't proved to be as difficult as I had assumed. He was pleasant company if you didn't think hard about what he was sure to become- and it was just that. He wasn't Voldemort at this point in time, not yet at least. However, when the occasion came up, I'd see a glimpse of what a true monster Tom could be. Like the time he had ridiculed a third-year for bumping into my side, eyes growing black as if he was taken over by another soul. Or the time he had deducted points from a Hufflepuff second-year for spilling pumpkin juice on his lap; if looks could kill, that poor second-year would be good as dead. Now that I think about it, not a day has gone by in the past five weeks of my stay where Tom wasn't here, next to me.

It was strange, how quickly I had adapted to his presence. Though I would never want to admit it, he was definitely growing on-

"(L/n), aren't you listening to what I'm saying?" Augusta sneered, glancing over at me in irritation, muttering curses under her breath.

I simply sent her a smile of apology, I knew she was growing impatient with my constant daydreams and I was grateful for her short patience but continuing to deal with me, "Sorry, what was that Augusta?"

"Well, you see," Augusta started, getting comfortable in her seat and leaning forward like she was about to share the latest gossip of the moment, which was definitely true from the glint in her eye, "apparently, Golden Head Boy is going to Hogsmeade this weekend."

I raised an eyebrow at her, quite disappointed at the dull gossip, leaning back in my seat to continue eating my breakfast, "And why should that be important to me?"

"Oh come on," Augusta loudly scoffed, quieting down when a few heads snapped in her direction before mumbling under her breath, "you definitely fancy Riddle."

This was my goal, wasn't it? To deceive and convince everyone, including Tom, that I genuinely fancied him.

I simply shrugged at her statement, "What does that have to do with Hogsmeade?"

I continued to play dumb as Augusta rolled her eyes, "Well, he never goes out to Hogsmeade. I'm thinking our broody head boy is going to ask a little lady on a date."

I turned a bright red, something I hadn't realised could happen to me, Augusta grinned nudging my side, head nodding over discreetly toward where I knew Slytherin's table was situated. And now, I could feel it; his stare boring into the side of my cheek as my cheeks turned an unhealthy shade of red as I continued to stare at Augusta, not daring to look towards his burning gaze.

"Don't be stupid," I spat embarrassedly, cheeks slightly cooled down as I reached for my cold glass of pumpkin juice, "you don't know what you're talking about, Gussie. Besides, I'm sure he doesn't fancy me back."

I watched her deflate and grumble in irritation before we both turned back toward our forgotten breakfasts. This was all part of my goal, so why did my stomach churn in guilt at the thought of going on a date with him?

-

I huffed as I raised my bag on my shoulder, I was definitely late. I grumbled as I rounded a corner and bumped into a first-year, muttering an apology before walking as fast as I could in the crowded hall to the library. I thanked Merlin once the doors of the library came into sight and pushed through the sea of students, walking through the maze-like library before coming to a halt before a very irritated Tom who raised an eyebrow at the sight of me, "You're late."

I held back an eye roll, no shit Sherlock, "I'm sorry, Slughorn really knows how to talk doesn't he?"

I sighed in relief as he softened at that, the anger slowly flowing off his shoulders as he got situated in his seat, "He does tend to talk an ear off every once in a while."

It was strange, to have a bond with him. Though, barely a bond at that. I was slowly warming up to him and vice versa. If I didn't think so hard about how he would eventually become a child murderer, he was quite nice company.

Tom was the type of person who could sit in silence and not feel the urge to fill it, a quality I very much appreciated in him. Most of our tutoring sessions were like this, spent in silence with the occasional question every now and then.

We had been meeting for a few weeks now, and it was nearing the end of the first term. I was shocked at how quick the term had gone, it wasn't too different from my time in school, though the generation gap could definitely be felt, it didn't impact my everyday life in this timeline.

I snapped out of my daze, flushing a bright Fuschia, realising I had been staring at Tom a little too long, and he brightened at the obvious fact I was, smirking slightly at my flustered state. I scrambled to the seat across from him, pulling out the parchment containing my unfinished Potions essay prompting me to focus on the essay to distract myself. I heard him chuckle under his breath before seeing him turn back to his essay from the corner of my eye.

Just as I was finishing the introduction to my conclusion, I noticed from the corner of my vision Tom's head perking up as he, what I assumed to be, gained whatever ounce of courage he could grasp. I braced myself internally, already knowing what was coming as I solely focused on the sound of his knee bouncing nervously under the table. It was strange. In the weeks I have known Tom, he never got nervous. Never.

Knowing that he was nervous because of me, made the knot of guilt in my stomach tighter. My head snapped up as he cleared his throat, his way of gaining my attention in all of our study sessions, "Yes, Tom?"

His ears perked up at the sound of his first name, not having yet gotten used to the sound of it being uttered by another student, no matter how close they were. It was always Riddle, and from his reaction, albeit barely anything, he liked hearing it from my lips.

"Tom?" I inquired, growing nervous at his silence. Maybe I had been wrong, he would not be asking me to Hogsmeade. After all, when had Augusta's gossip ever been reliable-

"You know of Hogsmeade, yes?" I smiled at his question, internally giggling like a little girl at how cute he was being.

"Perhaps,"

"Precisely, we shall visit the village this weekend," he paused briefly, "together."

"Are you ordering me around, Riddle?" I jokingly asked, watching as his nerves slowly kicked in and he rushed to his own defence, the walls he had built so high slowly becoming higher, and before he could utter another word I cut in, "Don't fret, Tom. I would love to attend Hogsmeade with you this weekend."

He grumbled at my teasing but softly smiled in victory at my agreeance.

-

I fidgeted with my hands nervously as I waited at the entrance of Hogwarts. I had never been so nervous in my life, not even when I went on a date with Dean Thomas and Merlin, I liked him a lot. I wasn't too sure why I was so nervous about this date. I knew the twist in my stomach wasn't guilt, but instead described by muggles as butterflies, and the thought made me sick. It was now the middle of October, the air was crisper, the leaves were starting to change to a beautiful shade of orange, and my breath could be seen because of how cold it was. Merlin, could Tom get here any faster?

"You came early?" The sudden entrance of Tom's soft voice had caused me to jump, he seemed amused by my reaction, barely squeezing out a grin, "I didn't mean to frighten you, (L/n)."

A major habit I had noticed of Tom was that he hardly ever said the words "I'm sorry" and "thank you". It left a bitter taste in my mouth knowing this, and suddenly the butterflies stopped fluttering in my stomach as reality struck me once again. He is and always will be a monster.

"It's okay, Tom," I said quietly, silently glancing down at my shoes and the fallen orange leaves that littered the ground, "Shall we go then?"

And off we went into the village of Hogsmeade.

-

After our date, if you could even call it that, Tom seemed much more relaxed to be around me. Though, I knew there was a side of him that he had yet to show me. The same side I was to extinguish within him, to remove the darkness and succeed in my mission of saving the very people I loved back in my own time. Tom still had many secrets he had yet confided in me, and I was growing impatient.

As weeks passed by, Tom gradually became more absent in my life, which was a change from spending every day together. He was acting strange and worried me. I sat in my dorm, away from the hustle and bustle of the common room, situated at my desk as I revised my potions essay. Sure, I do not actually have to do the work, but it felt nice to finally be a normal student again. Not having to live in fear of dark wizards, simply studying for the big exams that are to happen at the end of this school year, and not having to worry about my family at home or for my schoolmates. I was safe here.

I was snapped out of my daze of delusion by pecking at my window I glanced up to see a familiar owl, and I was quick to open my window and let the bird in. I hadn't heard from Tom since yesterday's lunch and I was growing worried about his absence. Had he grown suspicious? Did he not wish to pursue me anymore?

I pushed away my fears as I unravelled the scroll Tom had so neatly tied with a silver ribbon.

"Meet me at the astronomy tower, I wish to see you."

A simple sentence had never made me so nervous before. The twist of nerves in my stomach when I had been told of the war could barely compare to the fire that Tom Riddle had just let off in my head. It was past curfew, he knew this. I went over the chances of being caught by the warden and shivered. Maybe tonight he would confess his feelings for you, I shrugged off my thoughts of delusion and quickly moved to change my clothing; I could not let Tom see me in my pyjamas.

As I pulled on a warm jacket and some gloves, winter was heavily kicking in as November came to an end. I sighed as I slowly climbed down the steps that led to the common room and slowly made my way to the exit. I glanced both ways before setting off in the halls, I could not be caught. My pace picked up until I was essentially running to the astronomy tower, desperate to know just why Tom had summoned me so late in the night.

I came to a stop at the top of the stairs leading up to the astronomy tower and quickly found Tom leaning against the railing. I stopped to catch my breath quietly, hoping he hadn't heard my heavy breathing out of embarrassment.

He stood in glorious silence. To this point, I had never seen a beauty that could compare to him, a rose would shy away at the sight. His pale skin glowed under the moonlight of the full moon, cheeks softly kissed by the cold, the pink skin I so desperately wanted to caress, to keep it away from the bite of the winter frost. My mouth stood agape as I soaked in his presence, not wanting to tear my eyes away from the pink that blushed his cheeks. When my eyes dropped to his lips, I almost stumbled over my own feet. Never in the weeks I had been here had I wanted to kiss Tom as much as I had wanted at this moment.

"Tom?" I barely squeaked out as he finally acknowledged my presence. His raven hair bounced softly as his head turned in my direction.

He simply sat down, not yet saying anything as I took that as a cue to join his side. I kept a small distance between us, I knew he didn't really enjoy it when his space was invaded. I ignored the way he glanced at me at that and instead waited for him to speak.

He seemed conflicted, I knew he had to be if he were as absent as he was. He was lost in his head, though his expression had been set in stone, I had never seen eyes so vulnerable. I quietly reached for his hand that sat between us, surprised at how cold they were, resting my hand over his to comfort him in whatever mental battle he seems to be having at this moment.

"What do you wish for the future?" His question surprised me, that was the last thing I expected to leave those lovely red lips.

"I never expected you to dwell on such questions, Tom." And that was the truth. From the start, Tom seemed like a realist, not one to dwell on the what-ifs of the world.

"I don't," he paused, clearly now deep in thought as he slowly entwined our fingers, "as graduation approaches, I think of what my true ambitions are; what I want from this lifetime."

"Oh," and that was all I felt I could say. I didn't know what exactly when wanted my answer to be. Would it change anything? A question I so desperately wished to ask. Would my answer save the lives lost?

I closed my eyes, reminding myself this was Tom. My Tom.

My eyes opened and the darkness of Hogwarts momentarily consumed me as I zeroed in on those dark orbs. Tom consumed me as he held my gaze for what felt like an eternity. Swimming through pools of tar, drowning in the thick substance; suffocating, slow but deep and passionate. His eyes reflected his soul almost perfectly; dull, dark, naive.

To remember the humanity in Tom feels almost inhumane, yet here I was under the November moonlight, drowning in the deep passionate pools of Tom Riddle.

"I'm not too sure," my voice managed to conjure a sentence, my brain a mess yet my heart speaking, "but, this is nice."

Tom seemingly softened at that, not so much his body; his shoulders remained frigid, his knees tight and his knuckles white. But his eyes, his eyes spoke his deepest fears, his deepest desires. The hardness they once held melted slightly at that moment, and that feeling lingered in my stomach as I continued to drown in his gaze. He hummed, in what I think was agreement, as we sat in silence soaking in the moment, "This is nice."

-

Winter had completely settled across the horizon of the Highlands as the full force of the unsightliness of winter came across Hogwarts harshly. The land was painted white, almost as if a thick layer of wool had settled across the whole of the school grounds. Winter was my favourite season in the school year; shorter days called for longer nights of sleep, and colder days called for warm teas around the fireplace.

Winter also brought about a certain coldness, a darkness that consumed the lands, the songbird no longer being heard across the campus as you roamed, only the echo of your footsteps sounded. That was all I heard now, my footsteps echoing as if I was followed, but I knew the sound all too well, the scrape of my sole against the ground, the uneven tempo of my feet as they pattered across the halls. I hated the silence brought about the halls, especially at night.

Meeting with Dumbledore, especially under my circumstances, was not uncommon for me for the duration of this school year, but as winter break fast approached, a plan of sorts would need to be compiled. Where I'd be staying for the break, and further details according to Dumbledore.

As I came to a stop outside of the Professor's office, I braced myself before knocking thrice. The door swung open as Dumbledore stood at the opposite wall of the room, "Good evening, (L/n)."

"Professor," I acknowledged as I walked before his large desk, taking note of the door shutting on its own behind me. Well, I thought, not on its own.

"I assume you are curious as to why I called for you at this hour,"

"I can't say I'd be surprised Professor," he smiled softly at the jest, gesturing to a chair behind me as he sat in his own.

"I was not wrong," referring to his letter from the future laying upward on the desk, "your skills of Occlumency are prodigious, as you must see as is Tom with his Legilimency."

"The most talented I've encountered, sir." My reply sounded almost empty, dull. I understood now why Dumbledore of the future was so insistent on my participation, and I see why Dumbledore of the past too trusted within my ability. Not often you hear of a brain impenetrable by that of Lord Voldemort.

"I see your efforts with Tom seem to be fruitful," he said, almost carefully, "your efforts are not wasted, especially for Riddle. After all, it is okay to feel, you see."

I hardened at his words, my shoulders growing rigid as he spoke, "It is my mission after all, Sir."

"(Y/n), that is not-"

"Do not worry, sir. This mission will not be one I will fail for you; saving my friends, my family is of utmost importance."

He paused, watching me almost methodically as he pondered for a beat. He held my gaze, watching silently before letting out a hum, "I see, as you were, (L/n)."

My stomach turned as I returned to my bed for the night, most definitely from guilt, I just didn't know why I felt guilty. For Tom? My friends in the future? My family? Dumbledore?

I felt helpless, with everyone's future in my hands, the lines of rationality and irrationality blurred as my reality began to distort, and yet all I could think about was Tom. What is it I want from this lifetime?

His question rang in my head, from the moment I left the office, to the moment I laid to rest.

-

Entertaining the mere thought of liking Tom had slowly become an easier task. Growing comfortable with the idea, albeit not ideal, was a part of the process, of falling with Tom. Falling for someone is similar to that of a trust fall, the other would be there to catch you, and to trust the other you must catch them when they fall. To fall for someone is to trust them with your soul and wholeheartedly feel it is reciprocated. And so, even if just for a little, I'll let myself fall for Tom; ulterior motives or not.

Falling for Tom smells like pine trees, feels like a warm summer breeze, and the naivety that once glimmered in his eyes has saturated me. Falling for Tom sounds like rough waves slamming against a cliffside, the seaspray gently caressing my face as he washes over me.

Is this what I want from my lifetime? I'm unsure.

The Black Lake is vast and dark, as though it could swallow the sun whole, leaving us in the darkness. The surface is disturbed, one, two, three, "Bugger!"

My head snaps to Tom as he reaches for another flat stone. He catches my gaze and quickly raises an eyebrow as he readies his arm to skip a stone yet again, "Amazed?"

I bit my tongue and held a smile at his sarcasm, "Your talents never cease to baffle me, Tom."

His ears wiggled at the sound of his name, and I thought of a conversation I once had with Dumbledore, "Is it true no one calls you that?"

His brows furrowed and his head tilted softly to the side, not understanding my question. Seeing his confusion, I ask again, "Tom, I mean. Does no one call you that?"

As my eyes fell over him once again, I noticed he was not looking beyond the horizon, everywhere but me it seemed. In his lowest voice, "Well," he paused, clearing his throat so his voice came out clearly; assertive, "it's because I don't let anyone call me that. It's quite simple."

I paused for a beat as I pondered, "You let me."

Not so much a question, more so a comfortable statement. I watched as his shoulders shrugged softly in the corner of my eye. I knew why others hadn't called him Tom, he had no clue of my knowledge, but the fact hurt, knowing what he not only thought of his father, but himself.

"You never asked," my stomach turned at that. Had I not asked? I felt almost foolish, foolish at my comfortableness, at my relaxed state around him, I hadn't yet asked-

"You didn't-" he stopped, it was the first I had ever heard any type of fumble fall from his lips, "You didn't need to," he looked almost frantic, frantic for Tom that is, "ask, that is."

I smiled as his eyes met mine for the first time, and I was drowning again.

-

As I had returned to my dorm for the night, a neat scroll was waiting for me at my window, neatly tied with a silver bow, it was easy to guess who it was from, and even easier to guess the contents. I barely had time to open the note before I threw on my shoes and headed off into the dark comfort of the halls of Hogwarts.

The astronomy tower creaked louder than the Whomping Willow as I approached, and the harsh winds pinched at my cheeks and nose, I could barely imagine how cold Tom would have been. He had confided after a few visits here that he would often wait here for hours as he couldn't really predict what time I'd return to my dorm. With that thought in tow, I ran up the stairs to the best of my ability.

Tom stood beneath the moonlight in all his glory. Although, a dark cloud hung over him. Many would simply think of it as evil, the evil that is so inherently entrenched in him, it could be anything but. This darkness, was a darkness that consumed him, the vast darkness that would consume the light that shone from him.

As I reached the summit, Tom glanced over at the sound of my sole scuffing against the top step, my staggered breaths filling the room. He visibly relaxed at the sight of me, probably having thought I was danger.

"You're here," yet again, another statement. Most of our nights started similarly; simple. That was one of my favourite traits of Tom, his simplicity was a naivety that has been of great solace; a contrast from the life of constant fear and spontaneity I once lived. I hummed before taking my place next to him as I had many nights before.

We had come to talk, we always do. Tonight felt different, the burden he seemed to carry with himself every day seemed to feel like the world on his shoulders at this very moment. He looked fragile, vulnerable almost. His shoulders sunk in like a small puppy, abandoned with no care. After a long silence, Tom spoke out in a loud voice, as if to convince himself he was confident rather than me, "My name,"

"It belongs to my father," he paused for a while as if waiting for questions, but I already knew all the answers, I knew who he was.

"My father," his voice shook as he took a ragged breath, "was a muggleborn. That is why I despise my name. It was from his filthy bloodline of which I obtained that name."

"Tom.." My voice cracked softly as his eyes turned black, he looked as if he was almost in a frenzy, his hair out of place, his eyes frantic, saliva swinging from his red lips.

"My weak, pathetic mother named me after him." His eyes were now red as he refused to meet my gaze, "Not even he wanted me. Yet, here I am," his breaths accelerated, "a spitting image of him, of her stupidity. Her naivety."

"Strangely enough," now he met my eyes. Tom has the fiercest of eyes I've ever to lay eyes upon, and to see those very orbs shattered. It is a pain indescribable, "I've grown to like it. Used to hearing it. I would want to hear you say it as often as I could."

I was unsure of what he was asking, whether it was my hand, my friendship, my companionship. But none of that mattered to me, not anymore. I reached for his hand that settled between us, "Okay, Tom."

His demeanour changed in that of an instant, his hand moved from under mine as he turned to me now fully, "I wish to tell you something."

It was only now that he faced me that I saw how weak he looked. I instinctively reached for his cheek, his cheekbone protruding as I brushed my thumb across it. My mouth opened and closed as I searched for the words.

"I have been strongly thinking about that conversation we had," he paused, looking into my eyes for recognition and continuing once he had seen it, "about the future."

"I suppose, you have heard of the rumours," for a moment, I wish I didn't, I wish I could play stupid and be betrayed by Tom, be shocked by the revelation of his darkness. Darkness I know all too well, "I am here to say they are true."

It seemed as if the wind had stopped and the howling of the tower had been silenced, a pin could drop.

"All of them. Myrtle, Hagrid- All of it." Here Tom was confessing his sins before me, searching for relief, for atonement for the hurt he had caused. Sitting before me, kneeling before me with his big, dark, naive eyes.

"Even," he paused as he took a deep breath, "those of the horcrux. Horcruxes, there are two. Were two."

His eyes met mine again, and I was drowning all again, though this time felt real. The water was in my lungs suffocating me, and I was running out of time, "I would give it all up- I have given it all up. That is not what I want to do with my lifetime. I'm not really too sure what I want to do,"

He took my hand in his this time, clutching my right hand in both as if I were as gentle as a feather, as fragile as glass.

My left hand gripped tightly at my wand as I brushed my thumb along the back of his hand, unable to meet his gaze, tears obscuring my vision. This is all too much.

"It seems that I may have started to," my ears started to ring, "possess certain feelings for you, (L/n)." My heart was thumping in my ears at the announcement. It is too much, no.

“When we had first met," he paused, calculating his every word as I gripped my wand tightly in my hand, "why was it that you flinched at the mention of my name? You wouldn't a clue as to who I am, wouldn't you (Y/n)?"

His question caused me to tense up, my grip somehow getting tighter on my wand I felt as if it may break in my grasp, “You cannot do this to me!”

His booming voice caused me to flinch, jumping back at the sudden loud voice, “Tom-“

“No. You don’t understand, (Y/n). I gave up the dark path that was destined for me, to love you, to ensure that I could be the perfect man you wanted- no, needed. I haven’t the heart to believe that you cannot do the same for me.” His words tugged at the knot of guilt deep in my stomach, clawing at the knot in order to untie it, for me to succumb to his wishes and stay here, to not fulfil my mission, to love him to my fullest ability.

"I sacrificed everything for you.." Tom choked, his voice barely above a whisper, and his tone ate away at the guilt in my stomach. I swallowed the lump in my throat and pushed down the guilt that threatened to flood out, "I destroyed myself for you."

His shout made me flinch. The betrayal, the pain in his voice almost made me regret it all. He had trusted me. Trusted me enough to destroy the few Horcruxes he had which he made and destroyed with his own hands. He had let his walls down and let me into his heart, his bed, his arms.

I couldn't say a word, I knew if I opened my mouth I'd regret what I was going to do, "You're a monster. A cruel monster. I should've seen through your facade, under your skin. And, like a fool, I thought I was deserving of your love."

It was never a facade, I so badly wanted to yell at his red eyes. His weak state made this feel so easy. I never wanted to admit it to myself, but I loved Tom Riddle. I loved his smile, his wittiness, his charm. If so for a moment, I'd lay my guard down. I peeled back the tall wall I had built, brick by brick. If even for a moment, I wish for Tom to feel my love. To be loved to the fullest of my potential, the full force of the lifetime love I harboured for him. For Tom, my Tom.

But now, that love amounted to nothing.

And so I raised my wand and muttered that sickly unforgivable curse.

[thatlittlefangirl]

When I first read the books I already loved Snape

I was 12 when I read the books for the first time, I had been forbidden to watch anything related to Harry Potter but my sister brought the 1st book and let me read it while she read the 3rd (she never read the first, don't ask why, she's weird). I approached the Wizarding World knowing only Harry, Hermione, Voldemort, Dumbledore, Hagrid and McGonagall, then again I barely knew them (I thought Hermione was that one female character who exists only for the MC to be seen as cool, I also thought she was dating Harry. I also thought that Dumbledore was married to McGonagall and taught a subject while also being a headmaster. SO yeah I didn't know shit). At first I loved the twins already (still do) and had a... crush on Hagrid (IDK WHY DON'T ASK) and didn't like Snape much since Harry hated him and thought he wanted to kill him but I didn't hate him either but I also accused him at first. Then as soon as the plot twist happened and Snape was innocent this whole time and Dumbledore assured Harry that Snape was just angry because James was his enemy and still saved him (which is a weird simplification of what really happened), I started liking Snape, I then started reading some fics about him and found out about his backstory, I did some more researches about him, and it's then that I started loving him. And then I watched some movies but I don't really care about movies and I prefer reading the books, I already read the 1st and 4th but I can't read more because my library closed.

[lixzey]

Letters

info: mentions of blood, car accident, foster home, and death

The Eleventh Letter

Timothée Chalamet is one of the most loved actors in the world. He had girls all over the world who love him. But there's one girl, the most special in his eyes. Not that he's biased—or maybe he is, but Y/N made him feel things no other girl ever had. Timothée had dated his fair share of women: Madonna's daughter: Lourdes, Johnny Depp's daughter: Lily-Rose, hell he even dated Kylie Jenner. But none of them compare to Y/N L/N. 

Yes, she was hurting—he couldn't deny that she was broken but Timothée hoped that she was alright and still breathing the same air as him. He wanted to help her or whatever it was she wanted. He didn't understand it, she was just another fan in the eyes of everyone else. Yet, here he was flying half across the continent to find her even if he had no clue whether she was at the address his Private Investigator found or not. It was a huge leap of faith, but he didn't mind. He needed to find her, he needed to let her know that he was listening, he needed to be there for her during her battles. But, what would happen when he finally sees her? Would she be happy?

Would he be devastated? Timothée looked at her picture again. Her beautiful smile, he could've sworn her laugh could light up the whole room. He wanted to run his fingers through her long hair—which made him feel like a creep for wanting to do that to a girl who he'll meet for the very first time. He wondered what it would feel like to have her in his arms. Y/N looked delicate like a flower—and if he'd wrap her in his arms, she would break. But deep down, Timothée knew that wasn't the case. Y/N was strong and brave, like a soldier going into war. Though, he still wanted to comfort her and tell her that everything would be alright and soon daylight will come. 

Timothée closed his wallet and put it back in his pocket. He then reached for the eight unopened letters in his carry on backpack. He took the eleventh letter from the stack, and put the rest back. Timothée gently ripped open the envelope, it was dated August 5th, 2023. 

Dear Timothée, 

Can you keep a secret?

I want to tell you everything. I want to tell you everything so badly, I want you to understand who I am, who I was, and who I'm going to be. 

Well, here it goes. I hope you don't 'betray' me. Who am I kidding? Anyways….

I was ten. I was ten fucking years old when life decided to fuck me up. My parents died in a car accident. I was in that accident, unfortunately, I survived. My mother used her body as a shield to protect me. I was crying loud because I was scared—what kid wouldn't be scared? My mother was bleeding, my father was unconscious, and still my mother was whispering softly in my ear that everything was going to be okay. Everything else was a blur, that's all that I remembered. The next thing I knew, I woke up in the hospital—alone and confused. 

I always ask myself, “Why did it have to be me?” I used to be this happy kid, with a happy family. And now? I'm this broken girl who doesn't know what else to do with her life. 

You might as now call me The Girl Who Lived. Yeah, yeah, I know I quoted Harry Potter.

My parents couldn't have any children. My mother had been told that it was nearly impossible for her to bear a child, but then after years of trying, I was born. 

I was a miracle, their little miracle. I was almost named Miracle, you know. My parents said I brought light into their lives. I made everything in their lives brighter and full of meaning. I was the gift they waited so long for. 

My life was full of love and happiness. I grew up seeing my parents be in love. I always wanted to fall in love like how my parents did, as a kid I thought of their love story as something that came out of a fairytale book. It's kinda cliché, but I loved it. They started out in college as pen pals, it was random really, because my father wasn't supposed to get my mother's letters because they were for someone else, who had the same name as my father. They exchanged letters without my mother knowing that the one who's replying to her letters wasn't the one she really intended. But they fell in love. Yeah, my mom did get mad at my dad for lying, but dad was persistent. He apologized every day for that until they graduated college. After college, they met again at a café where mom worked. Sparks flew, and after two years they got married. After six years, they had me. Ten years later, they died. 

I wish I had died in that accident too. I wouldn't have spent the past eleven years in complete misery. Two days after my parents' funeral, I was sent to a foster home, until my aunt from my father's side could pick me up.

The day my aunt picked me up, my life became hell.

I can't write anymore Tim, fuck. I'm sorry, I just can't write anymore—tears are clouding my vision. I'll tell you more in my next letter, I promise. 

All my love, 

Y/N, The Girl Who Should've Died. 

p.s: sorry for the tear stains.

Timothée stared at the tear stains at the end of the paper—he could feel her pain just by looking at how much her tears stained the paper. He let out a shaky breath, before tucking the letter back in its envelope. He then looked at the remaining seven letters, waiting to be read. Timothée wanted to just teleport to where this girl was, if she was okay or not—he really wanted to hug her tight. This girl, Y/N, went through so much at a young age. He thought about what could possibly have happened when she started to live with her aunt. He assumed that her aunt mistreated her, and he felt a surge of anger course through his veins. How could someone hurt a child who had lost her parents? He wanted to hurt them, hell he wanted to punch someone right then and there on the plane. He was fuming, he was having trouble calming down. If he didn't he'd get arrested, and that won't be good. Timothée took a deep breath and opened his wallet again. The sight of Y/N's smile calmed him down. 

“Y/N, oh Y/N. Why do you make me feel like this?” Timothée muttered, the pad of his thumb caressing the photo as if he was trying to wipe her tears away. Timothée wanted nothing more than to be there for her right now. Before Y/N's letters, he was a normal guy—a normal actor, technically—but Y/N made him travel across the country just to find her, or even get a glimpse of her. There was something, and that something was pulling him in deep—deeper than he had ever been before. 

Who would've thought that Timothée Chalamet would fall in love with a girl who wrote him letters?

@helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @bobthe-turmpetman29

[briarpotter]

Happy Birthday Harry!

It's Harry's birthday! My sweet, sweet, perfect guy (who is already married and has kids)

Reflections of Courage

Harry Potter stood in front of the mirror in his cozy, dare he say big, manor in London. The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow on his reflection. It had been two years since the Battle of Hogwarts, and life had settled into a new kind of normal. Yet, some mornings, he still found it hard to believe that the war was truly over.

As he adjusted his Auror robes, Harry's thoughts drifted to the past. He saw the faces of friends and mentors, both living and lost, flash before his eyes. Sirius, Dumbledore, Lupin, Tonks, Fred—each one a reminder of the sacrifices made and the price of peace. 

A soft knock on the door pulled him from his reverie. He turned to see Ginny standing there, her eyes warm with understanding. “Ready for your first day back?” she asked, stepping into the room. Harry smiled, the sight of her comforting him. “As ready as I'll ever be. It feels strange, going back to work after everything.”

Ginny walked over and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder. “You'll be brilliant, Harry. You've faced worse than this, and come out stronger every time.” He held her close, drawing strength from her presence. “Thanks, Gin. I just… I want to make sure I'm doing the right thing.”

Ginny pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes. “You are. You're helping to build a better world, the one you fought so hard for. Don't doubt yourself.” Her words resonated with him, and he nodded, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. “You're right. It's just… sometimes it feels like there's so much left to do.”

“There always will be,” she said softly. “But you're not alone in this. We're all in it together.” With a final kiss for luck, Harry left the house and made his way to the Ministry of Magic. The familiar bustle of the atrium greeted him, and he was struck by how different it felt now that he was part of the Auror Department. No longer the hunted, he was now the protector. His first day back was filled with meetings and briefings.

Yet, as he moved through the corridors, he noticed the respect in the eyes of his colleagues. It wasn't the awe or fear he had once encountered, but genuine respect for his courage and determination. During a break, Harry found himself in front of a window, looking out at the bustling city below. He thought about the journey that had brought him here, the trials and triumphs that had shaped him.

He realized that each step, no matter how difficult, no matter how hard, had led him to this moment. A voice interrupted his thoughts. “Harry, mate, ready for the next briefing?” He turned to see Ron, his best friend and partner, standing there with a grin. Harry grinned back, feeling a surge of confidence. “Yeah, let's go.”

As they walked down the hallway, Harry felt a sense of peace settle over him. He was where he was meant to be, doing the work he believed in, surrounded by those who mattered most. And with Ginny by his side, he knew he could face whatever challenges lay ahead.

That evening, back in their house, Harry and Ginny cuddled together, the warmth of the crackling fire filling the room. Harry took her hand, feeling the steady beat of her heart. “Today was good,” he said softly. “I think we're going to make a real difference.” Ginny squeezed his hand, her eyes shining. “I never doubted it for a second.” In that moment, Harry felt the weight of his past lift, replaced by the hope of the future. He had faced the darkness and emerged into the light, ready to build a world worth fighting for, with the people he loved beside him.

[queerofcups]

a July rec list

I read a truly absurd amount of fanfic in July, and since I’m tracking my fic reading anyway these days, I figured, why not pull up some faves. I’ll do my best to tag authors when and where I can! I’ll throw some commentary in there to talk about why I like some of them, but rest assure this is a rec list and I think every one of them has something to love. 

Hockey RPF

In the scrawl of the ringside choir E, 37k, Hockey RPF | @goodnightpuckbunny Sid/Geno

“Geno, this is Sid Crosby,” Kris says, sitting back down. The kid towers over both of them, but seems small in the office. “You need a coach, so he’s gonna help you out.” He looks Sid over, eyes scanning like he’s looking for weaknesses, faults in his form. Sid has plenty, but he’s not fighting anymore. He doesn’t bother mirroring the gesture. He can guess without looking. “He old,” Geno eventually decrees. 

Interview with the Vampire

The Vampire Eric

E | 4k | falsescience (@theburialofstrawberries) Eric Bogosian/Jam Reiderson, Jam Reiderson

Oh ho, Eric thinks to himself, and then, aloud, because it’s just too delicious, and wouldn’t Rolin be ashamed, and a little pissed: “Oh ho!” He feels zapped alive: young, powerful, god-like. Jacob starts giggling immediately. “Did you just say ‘oh ho’?” “Or maybe aspen. What do you think, Eric?” “Not a damn clue,” says Eric, with a broad grin. “You look very satisfied. He looks very satisfied, doesn’t he?” Jacob smiles at Sam over his hitched shoulder. “Hm,” says Sam. “I think we play it safe, and go with red maple.” Yeah, Eric is certain: Jacob and Sam aren’t fucking. But they’d like to be.

First of all, I am RPF’ing these people real hard in some private chats. But largely, I like the characterization happening here, and the little turn of understanding that happens in the last third of the fic. 

reformation

E | 44k | verseau (@downstairsbar) Lestat/Louis

we're gonna heal. we're gonna start again. you've brought the orchestra, synchronized swimmers. // It makes him speechless sometimes, how much he loves Lestat. He thought for years, a decade, that it was sickness. It’s not. It’s not. Even when Louis hated Lestat, nothing was more certain than that he loved him.

There’s some great, great plotting and characterization here but/also I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve read a fic and known immediately that the author is Black. That’s obviously not a requirement of the fic I write but it's nice to have Southern Black characters really sound like people I’ve known/grown up around etc. 

let’s keep this off the record

E | 1.4k | anonymous

Louis/Santiago (sort of)

There would be no second chances for the Englishman, no opportunity for him to crawl out of some dump and seek revenge. Louis would make sure of that.

Honestly, I think it's great that fandom has a long and storied history of skullfucking. I think it's fun that weird shit like that still happens around here.

Maman

T | 2k | anonymous Claudia/Madeline, Louis/Lestat

Madeleine meets in the in-laws. Particularly one of them.

transpires

M-E | 5.8k total | familiar (@bigvampo or @camilliar? sekrit you've got so many blogs) Louis/Lestat

I mean, sekrit is just a fucking stellar writer. sekrit’s got a way of telling so much —  about a character, their mental state, the world their in —  in just a few razor sharp details. also these fics are so funny and the characterizations of Louis and Lestat feel like natural progressions from what we’ve seen in canon both in how much they love each other and how terrible they are (to each other and in general)

Harry Potter

Right. I think I’ve always been pretty upfront about my continued reading of Harry Potter fanfiction, but in case it's somehow necessary to say, please do not come to my inbox talking about JK Rowling. I don’t think about that woman and I’m very clear about what she thinks about me. 

Those Three Curses

E | 6k total | @dodgerkedavra Draco/Harry

Obviously I had a bit of a fucking dodgerkedavra moment here, but these blew me away. So much story telling in such little space. 

Former Things Come to Mind

E | 64k | dodgerkedavra

Harry Potter has had a headache for seven and a half years.

In the Presence of My Enemy E | 41k | dodgerkedavra Draco/Harry

All Harry knows is that Sectumsempra is for enemies. He doesn’t know that it will bind him to Draco Malfoy, for better or worse, ‘til death do them part.

Tiny Home

E | 30k | @wolfpants Draco/Harry/Ron

Harry and Ron left the Aurors years ago to travel the world and make up for lost time. When they finally decide to settle roots back in England, together, building a tiny home in the Lake District by hand seems like the perfect plan. What they don't realise is that Draco Malfoy already lives on the plot of land that they choose to build on. A story about years of feelings, about weaving lives in and around each other, and about finding a place safe enough to call home.

I really feel like there’s been an explosion of excellent Draco/Harry/Ron all of a sudden. One of my qualms with a lot of polyship fics is that it's very uhhh “we must do everything together” and I really love that this fic breaks that down and allows everyone to have histories and experiences together as dyads and all together. 

In Our Blood

E | 37k | secretsalex Draco/Harry

Draco is an accomplished pure-blood curse breaker, and Harry is tasked with accompanying him on his latest job—cleaning up the Van Boer mansion, which has been under a devastating fertility curse for seven generations.

I’m not even going to bullshit y’all. This fic reminded me why I love mpreg. Excellent use of body horror, body dread, suspense, all these things. Also, an mpreg fic that remembers abortion is a thing. Amazing!

Probationary Action

E | 63k | @toomuchplor Draco/Harry

As part of the terms of the probationary contract, DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY shall submit for inspection his WAND on the last day of every month, such inspection to be carried out by a duly registered and fully qualified AUROR in the employ of the MINISTRY OF MAGIC, and such inspection to include a PRIORI INCANTATEM spell to ensure that no PROHIBITED MAGICS as heretofore described have been practised by the aforementioned probationer.

I’ve been obsessed with toomuchplor since Inception and this fic reminded me why. I don’t love Auror!Harry fic (truly, just so much unchecked, delighted writing about police brutality) but I do like any fic where Harry starts to wake up to the fact that maybe just because they’re “the good guys”, not every choice made by the Aurors/Wizarding Gov’t in general is right. Also, I appreciate the expansion on the idea of sex charms!

Embers

E | 41k | @shiftylinguini Draco/Harry

Werewolf Alphas aren't meant to be alone, or to suppress their ruts indefinitely like Draco has been since he was bitten eight years ago. He needs company, companionship, to knot ― he needs an Omega Heat Companion. At least, that’s what the Healers say, and even Draco can admit contacting the person they’ve referred him to might be nice. Of course it turns out to be bloody Potter.

idk man, I like a fic that treats sex work like it's just a job. Worthy of respect, full of technical expertise, etc. 

--

Both of these next fics came from @hd-wireless which has been, pound for pound, one of the best fests I've ever witness and is a testament to how important having multiple fic fests in a fandom can be! so much good shit to read!

The most he’s ever said

E | 16k | anonymous Draco/Harry

It takes them twenty years.

Two Houses

E | 11k | anonymous Draco/Harry

Two households, both alike in... meddling Floo connections, apparently? Draco Malfoy is a highly professional and well-respected Ministry official, with a demanding schedule, a loving son, and—through no fault of his own—a faulty Floo connection that keeps regurgitating the Minister for Magic through his fireplace.

I really enjoy that there's been more of a trend of writing about these two as older people and fleshing out the characterization of their kids.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Hi! I really love your metas and i hope you're doing good. There's this about hp that's been bothering me for a while now and i kinda wanted to get your opinion? Sorry if it's been asked already or if it's just really really obvious but it's about sirius being Harry's godfather. Like, how do you think it happened and what do you think it means in the magical world, being a godparent? Do you think they have a ceremony for that or something? I lowkey thought that maybe it's something like Lily's influence with muggleborns being religious still but it seems like the idea of a godparent is so universally understood and accepted in the wizarding world and I'm like... What does that mean for them exactly?

Sorry again if it's stupid and no pressure about answering and stuff, love you, hope you are having a good one :)

Hi, thank you! 🥰

I just posted about religion in the magical world in a former ask. And it's not stupid, overthinking things like this is great and I made it a hobby. I think all of this is fun to explore. And while I lowkey wish there was a magical godparent ritual... the books don't really back it up.

As I wrote, I think wizards in Britain are predominantly Christian (Protestant specifically). As such a godparent would mean what it always does, which is a person involved in the religious development and upbringing of the child.

“Yes . . . ,” said Black. “But I’m also — I don’t know if anyone ever told you — I’m your godfather.” “Yeah, I knew that,” said Harry. “Well . . . your parents appointed me your guardian,” said Black stiffly. “If anything happened to them . . .”

(PoA, 379)

From this quote, it seems in the Wizarding World a godparent actually has legal guardianship over their godchild in the case of something happening to the parents (which isn't always the case in the modern day). In general, considering how the Wizarding World is a bit old in it's views and customs, I'd expect godparents to be more like their historical variant rather than the modern one. As in, much more common and much more involved in the child's life.

I actually read a little bit about godparents in the Church of England and apparently, there was a point in the 15th century when godparents weren't a thing before being reintroduced. But I don't think the wizards took much note of it. From how everyone talks about godparents it seems like their role is an important one in the child's life:

said Fudge. “Potter trusted Black beyond all his other friends. Nothing changed when they left school. Black was best man when James married Lily. Then they named him godfather to Harry. Harry has no idea, of course. You can imagine how the idea would torment him.”

(PoA, 204)

Everyone treats it as meaningful to be chosen as a godparent. It's a choice that is important because the godparent is expected to be very involved in the child's life.

Now, usually, a godparent would bear witness to a child's baptism as their religious role. I assume infant baptism is, therefore, practiced in the Wizarding World (like it is in the Anglican church) in some way or another which implies there is a ceremony of sorts as you mentioned. That being said, Harry didn't bear witness to any baptism of Teddy, though it was in the middle of a war and Harry had other things on his mind. I'd say they probably have a magical spin on baptism that godparents are involved in, but sometimes it'll be skipped, like in the middle of a war. Like their funerals and weddings, it'll likely look like a regular Christian baptism with the addition of a certain magical flare, at least that's my guess.

As for how Sirius became Harry's godfather, Fudge implied it was all James as he and Sirius were so close. I agree with his assessment on this one thing (can't believe I'm agreeing with Fudge of all people). James was probably the one who brought it up and Lily agreed. From her letter to Sirius, it's clear she understands how close he and James are and that she and has grown closer to Sirius too through James.

As the Potters were already in hiding when Harry was born, he probably didn't have the official baptism ceremony. From Lily's letter though, it appears Sirius did visit them on occasion:

We were so sorry you couldn’t come, but the Order’s got to come first, and Harry’s not old enough to know it’s his birthday anyway! James is getting a bit frustrated shut up here, he tries not to show it but I can tell—also Dumbledore’s still got his Invisibility Cloak, so no chance of little excursions. If you could visit, it would cheer him up so much. Wormy was here last weekend.

(DH, 158)

So, Sirius was involved enough in Harry's life Lily felt the need to assure him it's not that bad he missed Harry's first birthday, meaning Sirius really didn't want to miss it.

I'm rambling a bit, but the short of it is that a godparent in the Wizarding World is like a third parental figure for the child and is very involved in their upbringing. Godparents seem quite common in the Wizarding World, I headcanon that most wizard-raised children actually have godparents and Harry just never learned about most of them. Additionally, a godparent is the legal guardian of the child if something happens to the parents. Finally, I think wizards have an infant baptism ceremony which is when the godparents are relevant in the religious context, although we never see such a ceremony taking place due to circumstances.

On that note, hope you're having a good one too!

[supersaiyanjedi14]

Just got done watching the new episode, and can I just say that I freaking LOVE Sally's conversation with Poseidon? This scene not only demonstrates just how much Sally loves her son in spite of the various struggles, it also touches on just WHY Percy is the hero he is.

As an urban fantasy, PJO is one of a long line of stories that involve the mundane intermingling with the fantastical, specifically in the context of someone from our world entering into this wildly different one. Superman, Narnia, Harry Potter, just off the top of my head. What makes these stories stand out is that, even when the protagonist gets adjusted to a world of magic and monsters, it is the fact that they come from good old normal Earth that keeps them and their worldviews grounded. No matter how many wizards and aliens they bump into, they are still coming from the position of a human being. Superman may be an alien who bumps shoulders with god-like beings, but behind it all is Clark Kent, a guy from Kansas raised to be a kind and decent person by two people who were shining examples of humanity themselves.

That right there is a big part of who Percy is. Percy's spent most of his life surrounded by gods and monsters with a view of the world that is so wildly different from our own we cannot begin to understand that. But Percy doesn't come from that world, he comes from OUR world. He's not a Greek god intermingling with the puny mortals, he's a kid from New York who understands the people around him. If Percy had been brought up at camp and raised as a demigod, he would have gone hand-in-hand with the Olympian way of doing things, no questions asked. But Sally didn't do that. She brought him up to be a boy first, demigod second. It's what allows him to look at how the gods act and say "No, this is wrong." He refuses to go along with the BS, because any decent person can see that this manipulation and ego flexing is no way to treat people. And this feeds right into his motives for opposing Kronos and Luke. He's not fighting for the gods, he's fighting for the world he actually came from, a world where opposing evil is right and just, not an opportunity for glory.

And Sally and Poseidon both know this. They wanted Percy to grow up separated from all this toxic crap, because they knew he would emerge all the stronger, and more importantly, better, for it.

"I'm Sally Jackson's son" indeed.

[sillylittlegirlthoughts]

rekindling | chrismd

Jersey had been your home for the past 28 years. Moving away was long overdue. London seemed like the place to go, the capital. So be it. Boxes were littered all over your flat. Your staring burning holes in the cardboard. Finally standing up and stretching tearing open the first box. You brought it to the kitchen and began to make the place yours. In your bedroom, six hours later the newly placed clock read 19:47. You decided to take it easy putting on mindless television and pouring a generous glass of wine.

A box solely dedicated to knick knacks, little trinkets and a few shoeboxes filled with memories. Placing some little plants around your room along with many a teddies who you refused to let go of. The shoeboxes were all getting pushed under the bed without a question when one flung open and the contents spilled out.

It was your earliest memory box.

You found yourself neglecting the remainders of your packing and your sole focus being on the spilled shoe box. A ticket to Harry Potter and the half-blood prince. A movie you went to see with your closest childhood friends. Friends you hadn’t heard from in a while. Some photos. You remember going to print yourself. You, Chris and Arthur all squished together. Faces bright red after spending all afternoon in a trampoline park. Another one, taken with your childhood dog. The last one was just you and Chris hugging eachother after you blew out your candles on your 13th birthday cake.

You missed them. You weren’t going to lie. Nothing you could do about it. Life happens. Although. You couldn’t take your mind off the two boys. The boys you loved so dearly. An Instagram search wouldn’t hurt, right?

You knew both of them pursued YouTube and yes in the early days you kept ho to date with them. However, it seemed they had gotten incredibly big. You smiled, you couldn’t not. You were so proud of them both. They looked well and seemed to be happy where they are. You thought about following them. You thought how crazy is that thought. Then you did it. Following them both. They had thousands of followers anyway, they wouldn’t realise.

chris & arthurs pov

You didn’t pick a great time to do that, considering they were sitting together, amongst two other friends— Arthur Hill and George Clarke. Chris jumped, seeing the notification. “Y/n y/l/n?” He spoke, ArthurTV’s eyes instantly widening. He wondering why Chris mentioned her so abruptly. “What?” His voice was slightly high pitched. The other two guys sort of just glanced at one another each feeling a Deja vu feeling to your name. They watched as they scrambled instantly looking at your account.

“It’s her, mate.”

Chris noticed the confused look on his friends faces. “Y/n— she was me and Arthur’s best friend. We haven’t heard from her in forever.” George nodded, “So, are you gonna contact her?”ArthurTV flinched, startled by the idea of rekindling. He didn’t know if childhood friends could become friends again considering so many aspects of their lives had changed since then.

“Uh, I don’t know if that’s the greatest idea.” Arthur (tv) mummered and Chris gave him a glare. Chris’ head was already thinking of how great this reconnection could be. How much their other friends would just adore her. “Why not? She followed us. We followed her. We can’t just do that and move on,” Chris sighed. “Right, look. Just say hello. If she doesn’t reply it’s not the end of the world.”

“You message her Chris, you always were closer to her.”

your pov

You had been staring at the chat between you and Chris thinking of anyway to start a conversation, until he sent you one first.

chris: hi y/n, how have you been?

y/n: hi chris, i’ve been good recently got my dream job so i suppose not to bad. how have you been?

chris: you’re a writer? that’s amazing. I’ve been good. YouTube still going strong.

She smiled at that message, after all fo these years he still remembered her passion for writing fantasy novels.

a few weeks later

Chris and Arthur had made plans with Y/n, to see her again and catch up on everything they had missed. Unfortunately, Arthur has been working like crazy at the moment and Chris can’t bare to know that Y/n is in London and he is not visiting her. Therefore, it was just Chris and Y/n.

Chris embraced her in a tight hug, his arms going around her waist holding her as tight as ever. Her arms went around his neck smiling into his hoodie. They sat down at their seats at the café. “I couldn’t believe it when you followed me. I must’ve checked ten times to make sure it was definitely you.” Chris chuckled turning towards the girl who had grown to be even more beautiful than he remembered. “Yeah well, when I was moving I was putting my memory boxes away,” Chris hummed remembering how you’d gather any physical memory of occasions. “One spilled open and it was just filled with memories of the three of us. I couldn’t help but try and find you guys. Which wasn’t too hard.”

“Yeah, I can imagine. We were both extremely happy. Quite ironic actually, we were just talking about you the other day.” He spoke softly, Y/n humming along as she admired him. He had let his hair form naturally his curls forming. He had grown a beard. The first time he ever had facial hair. It was long but it suited him.

Chris later got home, the smile never fading from his lips. Once he arrived through the door he found everyone sitting on the sofa. “You’re home earlier than expected.” ArthurTV mummered. “As are you. Are you not meant to be shooting?” Chris questioned his friend who sighed and explained how the video ended up being significantly shorter than anticipated. “Someone looks giddy,” George Clarke teased, laughing as he saw his friends face. Completely lost in his thoughts about Y/n. “He’s fancied her since they were 12. Im not suprised it’s rekindled.”

Chris retorted some rude joke towards his three mates who continued teasing him profusely.

He may have left out the part when they kissed.

authors note!

hey sorry for the delay on this one and it is much shorter than i would’ve like but i didn’t want to delay putting it out any longer than i already have. i love the idea of two people rekindling so here you go.

[carmsgarms]

just wanna hug you for the jkr post bc my former friends made me feel insane for not validating their continued engagement 💜

Bestie listen youve unzipped me and im about to go off. Harry Potter was my entire life until she literally couldn't shut the fuck up about trans women being perverts and infiltrators. I was a lonely neurodivergent weirdo and Harry Potter brought me solace as a kid. I read each of the books at least 7 or 8 times, that shit is INGRAINED in my brain. One of my best friends of 10+ years is my friend today because the first thing we bonded over was seeing the last HP movie. I used to be deadset on my 2nd tattoo being my pottermore wand with my hogwarts house. I wanted a fucking HP-themed wedding. The first funko pops I bought were Harry Potter ones. My first serious boyfriend told me he wanted to propose to me in front of Hogwarts castle (this was something he said to guilt trip me when i dumped his ass) ((also thank the gods that never happened he was a shithead and so is jkr)). My mom for some godforsaken reason let me help her name my youngest brother when he was born because she couldn't think of a name and my 10yo ass fuckikg picked DANIEL because of Daniel Radcliffe. I was in DEEP.

And you know what? Aside from the books I camped out to buy on release day and the DVDs that are crammed in a box somewhere in a storage unit, I have gotten rid of every single Harry potter thing I owned because I grew the fuck up and found better things to like. Sure I'll watch the DVDs again every few years to feel the nostalgia again because a good chunk of the cast are great people (we fucking stan Dan Radcliffe and David Tennant in this house ) but I'm not giving jkr another cent of my money or an inkling of my time beyond that.

You are so valid and you are allowed to be upset if your friends continue to engage with Harry potter content.

Anyone who days "uwu my nostalgia" ask them if they still sleep with their fucking baby blanket too.

My former boss wouldn't shut the fuck up about the new video game when it came out. At least once a week he'd ask me if I'd played it yet and every single time I would tell him "I'm not engaging with that franchise anymore. JKR uses money to fund anti-trans legislation." And he'd always spout some bullshit about nostalgia or "but it's SO good" or "yeah I just try to separate the art from the artist / oh but the devs who worked hard on the game! / but playing the game doesn't actually support her! (yes the fuck it does if the game does well it boosts her platform)"

And especially now that my wife has come out, I'm extra ready to fight the next grown person who tells me they ~separate the art from the artist~ like fuck off. There are better things to spend your time and energy on. I hope everything JKR makes flops hard. Everything shes done since the last movie has been a disgusting cash-grab and none of it is even good. I'm beyond thrilled that BG3 has had a wild runaway success and a longer-lasting player base than the fucking game she put out. Nothing has ever disappointed me more than JKR being the way that she is.

Oh but the lore and world building? The ability to make your own character in such a fun and magical immersion world?bDnd has better lore than Harry potter ever did and the lore adds up and makes sense. If you look at her shit beyond the surface level she is actually fucking TERRIBLE at world building especially when she tries to do it without being a fucking racist ((does anyone remember when early drafts for the American magic schools that were using Native American imagery and it was all REALLY FUCKING OFFENSIVe and let's also not forget "no-maj" being the least fucking creative thing she ever came up with)

"But my hogwarts house" PLEASE choose a better Personality.

I have more nostalgia for Avatar the Last Airbender these days since i got into that when it first started airing when i was 12 (and look if you're really into the fuckin houses as your Personality you can get that with ATLA! Water tribe forever bitches)

"But the characters!!!" Please. There are better characters ALL AROUND YOU. pick up a fucking comic book. Yknow Superman actually has a similar structure, he's got the nerdy Normal friend and the love interest and it's a goddamn shame none of the movies include his bestie Jimmy because he's just as important as Lois Lane is.

"But all the strong female characters!" It is 2024 please I beg you to find other female role models (I will again point to Avatar the Last Airbender and Literally Any Comic Book Featuring A Woman. Captain Marvel is actually really good. Battlestar Galactica is also chock full of strong female characters and that came out in the early 2000s!)

Bestie i genuinely feel bad for all the fucking white people who can ignore all the bullshit JKR has done and said and all those sad saltine cracker flavor type people whose entire personalities are Watching The Office and Enjoying Harry Potter And Star Wars. Grow up. Move On.

If it's that important to you (and i mean the general you here not you specifically), please do what I did and Marie Kondo that part of your life. You don't need to hold onto the safety blankie you had as a child. You don't have to hold onto the pair of shoes that got you through high school and are out of fashion and falling apart. You give it a sendoff. Say "thanks for getting me through that part of my life but I'm moving on" and you move the fuck on.

I did something really sappy for my 30th birthday - I said goodbye to the franchise. I mourned what could have been. I went to Universal studios ((also bc Simpsons land and fast and furious ride and ET and a bunch of other stuff are there)) but I stopped into Harry potter world to do everything once and say goodbye to that part of my life since it was something I had wanted to do for most of my youth, and my friend who i became friends with because of harry potter was there with me. We drank the fucking pumpkin juice, had breakfast at the three broomsticks, appreciated all the little easter eggs around hp world, rode the hagrid ride, and ate a chocolate frog I wore my trans rights shirt and dressed gay as hell, my friend is trans so he just ~existed blissfully~ . I think every Harry potter fan needs to acknowledge that the franchise was good for them in the 90s, mourn that part of their life, and move on.

Bonus: me being Gay as Fuck in front of the castle. I hope JKR fucking rots and fades into obscurity and people come to realize she's worse than HP Lovecraft.

[3lle-l-black]

Season of love event @george-weasleys-girl

"— I can't imagine a world where I don't have you two with me..."

Girassol (Part 1)

Fred Weasley x reader

Warnings: More than one pronoun for R , long fic, twins call reader their Girassol 🌻, George x reader platonic, fluff and a little angst, Grumpy and Sunshine, English isn't my first language

Versão Português Inspired by Girassol - IVYSON

— Ginny, can you please stop talking about this for a second? – I stop in the middle of the burrow stairs, turning to Hermione and Ginny who are behind me.

— I'm just saying..

— Okay, an idea: stop saying

For those of you who have arrived now, I will explain the situation. I had the brilliant idea of dating one of Ginny's older brothers, Fred Weasley, after being friends with the twins for my first four years at Hogwarts. Don't get me wrong, was amazing, but after they left school and opened WWW, war became a real possibility and Hermione, Ron and I were worried about helping Harry.

In short, things got more complicated, we became distant and broke up. I didn't want but I didn't have the courage to insist. Anyway, we became 'friends' again.

Last night, while talking to Hermione I mentioned that I missed him and our conversations. The problem was that Ginny overheard, what brought us to this situation.

— I don't wanna talk about it, Ginny. I'll ask just one more time. Please. – I go down the stairs and head towards the living room with the girls right behind me.

— Ginny, drop it. Stop before you hear something you don't want. – Hermione says, noticing my irritation. They sit together on a couch, and I sit across from them.

— Everyone can see that my brother made an idiotic choice. I just think she could go talk to him, try to resolve the situation," Gina says, head down.

The night after the Seven Potters event.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were already asleep, I've been looking at the sky through the bedroom window for some time now, the stress of fighting the death eaters and the worry haven't let me sleep. I get up and go downstairs, maybe I can clear my mind by changing the environment and checking if the twins are okay.

George had fallen asleep on the couch and Fred would never leave his brother alone, so they slept in the living room. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I noticed that one of the boys was awake.

— Hey – I called him in a low tone so as not to wake the others

— Hey, can't sleep? – is George. He made to sit down, but I stopped him first.

— You don't need to get up, you have to rest and no, I couldn't. – I take out my wand and clean the bandages around his head. — Still hurts?

George looks at me with a teasing smile. — Have you forgotten who I am, woman? A scratch like that can't knock me down.

I roll my eyes and perform a healing spell to help with the injury. I sit next to George on the floor after placing my wand on the table. We talked like that for a while, maybe more than an hour, a sleepy George making jokes even in a bad moment, me leaning on the sofa and we trying to keep the laughter down so as not to wake anyone else up.

...

— Hey... I'm sorry our friendship got weird, it's just... I don't know, I didn't know how to act after your breakup.

— That's okay, I didn't know how to act either. I missed our conversations. – In the last few weeks, whenever the twins and I were in the same room, an uncomfortable silence would settle in, so it was good to talk to George, even in those conditions.

— I missed you too idiot, and you know... – I see him nod to the other redhead — I wasn't the only one

— Yes? Did he tell you that? – I ask skeptically, looking down at the floor. George got up and sat next to me with a playful smile.

— Yes, just don't tell him I told you that.

— Oh shut up, I think the spell affected your brain and made you more of an idiot than you already were. – My heart races at the thought of Fred admitting to missing me, but it doesn't change anything if he hasn't admitted it to me.

George was stifling a laugh when he curled up and let out a groan of pain.

— Are you ok Georgie? – I take out my wand and whisper a "Lumos" to brighten the room.

— Yeah, just a bit of pain, don't worry – Some noises can be heard behind us. George looks over my head and breaks into a smile. I follow his gaze to find a confused, recently awakened Fred. — Did we wake you, sleeping beauty? – George teases as Fred sits on the couch, letting the blanket fall to the floor and mumbles a confused "What time is it?"

— Are you the ones making the noise? Why are you awake at this time? – He blinks a few times, getting used to the light in the room. Suddenly, Fred's eyes widen, and I can tell that any trace of sleep he had is gone. — Did something happen? George is ok?

— Yes, don't worry, I couldn't sleep so we were talking. Sorry for the noise – Fred visibly relaxes, if I was worried about George, imagine him.

— It's okay, I got plenty of sleep – He stoops to pick up the blanket from the floor and covers himself again. Sleep... I didn't realize how sleepy I was until now.

— It will be dawn soon... What were you doing? I mean, were you here together a long time?

The look on Fred's face amuses George and we can see a gleam of mischief in his eyes. — The little girassol here was taking care of me, they're a great doctor, you know?!

I can't really follow the conversation, apparently Fred frowned at George's comment. Now they are teasing each other and laughing louder than they should. I always loved how chaotic they were together; I also always loved being in that chaos.

Fred's POV

A mischievous glint flashed across George's eyes — Ah, the little girassol here was looking after me! She's a great doctor.

I unintentionally frown, 'taking care of me'?

— You're a grown man, can't you look after yourself? – His laughter echoed around the room.

— Don't be like that, I let you play nurse too.

I let out a 'hole', starting to laugh too. George gets up and lies back on the couch. My eyes wander around the room, and I see the 'little girassol' is unusually quiet. A smile lights up my face when I realize she's sleeping, leaning on the couch in an uncomfortable position.

I stand up and put one arm around her back and the other under her legs, trying not to disturb her peaceful sleep. I carefully lift her into my arms, and she snuggles up against me, her face resting in the crook of my neck. Her soft breathing stopped my own for a moment. I freeze, realizing how close we are now.

I turn around and put her on the couch. Once I'm sure she's in a comfortable position, I sit down in front of the couch. Can't help but keep my eyes on her. She shifts a bit, and without thinking twice, my hand reaches out to sweep away a couple of strands of hair falling over their face. She's just so darn lovely.

— I can't imagine a world where I don't have you two with me – Before I can finish my train of thought, a scream echoed behind us. George and I quickly stood up, frantically searching for the source of the sound...

Remembering that English is not my first language. please read with your heart