#handsome doesn’t even begin to describe them anymore

[thencomethecherryblossoms]

No because are you fucking kidding me

[choomichu]

complete self indulgence. Nejis cheeks are just too cute.

Neji Hyuga x Reader his cheeks are so cute

Guys his face is so cute

You always thought Nejis face was so cute. Ever since you were Genin—when he had the grimace on his face that seemed ever permanent. And even when he grew up, and that grimace was a little less common, his face was so cute.

Or, maybe the right word now was handsome. His cheeks were smooth and flat, his pale white eyes matched his complexion, and his hair fell perfectly around his face to frame it.

It was often you found yourself staring, and todays mission was no different. You weren't even paying attention, really, because you found that his lips looked like they were made out of rose petals, or something like that, and your heart was pounding.

Your eyes widened the moment he looked up at you. His pale eyes stared right at you with what you could only describe as intensity. It didn't seem malicious, though, just... focused. His eyes narrowed to a sliver, before he turned back to his book. Your heart pounded again in an entirely unprofessional manner.

You shook your head and turned back to your own book, determined not to stare anymore.

But, god did that boy have lovely legs. You had never been one for legs, but there was no denying that they were long. They would definitely be able to give someone some exercise. You wanted to see him do those stretches more often.

Of course, you knew how to workout your legs too—it was common knowledge as a ninja. But sometimes, you just wish Neji would think shorts or something of the sort were fashionable, like he did when you were Genin. He looked great in and out of uniform.

He looked good in everything. It was almost mind-boggling, but you shouldn’t ogling at your *teammate*.

You sighed. “So,” you began. “Neji,” you said, trying not to choke. “How is your day going?” God, why was this so difficult?

His shoulders tensed, and you wondered if you’d said something wrong. Then he spoke. “I suppose it’s been good. Yourself?” he asked, looking over at you, but not meeting your eyes—more like your face.

You smiled and nodded. “Pretty good…” You trailed off, an absentminded smile on your face as you looked over at his cheeks. Ah, you wished you two were Genin again, when he had those cute chubby cheeks. You could never take his glares seriously when his cheeks were so cute. Even his glare was cute.

Unknowingly, you let out a sigh. A small, short, longing sigh, your hands on your own cheeks.

Neji’s brow furrowed and your eyes snapped away from his cheeks. “It doesn’t sound like you’re alright to me.” he spoke, pointing out your sigh.

You blinked and sat up straight, pulling your hands away from your cheeks and sitting up properly. You hardly registered your own sigh—and he mistook that dreamy sigh for being unwell. Maybe being lovesick did mean you were unwell. When he worried over you like that, how couldn’t you be lovesick?

“Ahaha… yeah, I’m fine,” you reassured him.

It sounded unconvincing, even to you. You weren’t a terrible liar, but you couldn’t tell him the reason for your odd behavior. How could you even begin to say that his face was so cute it had you sighing?

His cheeks weren’t even chubby anymore, but you had the dying urge to reach out and take them in between your fingers and just—

Crap, you actually gave into your own thoughts and did it. You didn’t even notice your hands coming up to pinch at his cheeks. Neji was frozen stiff infront of you, his hand still raised in midair with the book he had been reading. He didn’t move or make a noise for a few seconds. The air felt tense enough you were sure he could feel the tension in your fingers.

When he finally moved again, he was reaching down to touch them, making his fingers curl around your wrist before he calmly removed them. “What do you think you’re doing?”

You were sure there was a light color of pink on his face—though it must have been a result of the temporary pinching.

“Ah, sorry… I wasn’t really thinking.” You eventually got out. “I was just thinking how smooth your face must have been… Ahaha… Which the answer is: really smooth! Hahaha…!” You were making a fool out of yourself, you were sure.

To your own horror, you kept talking. “You know, your cheeks are really… really cute.”

That color of pink on his face seemed to worsen upon hearing you speak those words. You were pretty sure you saw him turn completely red, you might have thought he was blushing if it weren’t for his usual behavior. Even that was… adorable, in a weird way.

He coughed softly and lowered his arm. “As flattering as your compliments are, you can spare yourself from such words.”

He was rejecting you before you even had the chance, wasn’t he?! This was his way of saying ‘I don’t need such an idiotic, stupid person like you.’ wasn’t it?!

No, it wasn’t, actually. Neji just didn’t know how to receive compliments—not about his appearance. He was used to the ‘genius,’ ‘prodigy,’ ‘strong,’ comments. But for a person such as yourself to be complimenting his face�� All he could hope to do was brush it off and hope his cheeks hadn’t gone pink.

If anyone noticed he was blushing, he’d never hear the end of it, and it probably wouldn’t help him to hide how embarrassed he was. He hated feeling embarrassed, especially when the person complimenting him was his teammate.

“Your cheeks are even cuter when they’re pink…” You sighed out absentmindedly. Of course you noticed his blush. What kind of stupid person doesn’t recognize their own crush when it’s right in front of them, blushing?! “It’s the first time I’ve seen them that way…”

He cleared his throat yet again. “My cheeks are merely warm. No doubt due to the temperature.” There was something off about his tone—you’d never heard him talk that way before. “Now.” He stood up from his spot on the grass. “It’s time to resume our mission. No doubt Lee and Guy Sensei are throwing a fit. Tenten can’t keep them still forever.”

With a quick nod and another apology, you followed after him.

Even his long hair was so nice. Maybe you could get away with playing with that next time.

[pickalilywrites]

I'm happy you take requests :) I really like your stories. ❤❤❤

Can I ask for Rivetra?

Whenever Petra takes care of Levi's wounds she always leaves light kiss on his dressing. But this time he was fighting with someone to protect her and he got injured in the lips so Petra is ashamed to do that.

I wish you the best! 😊

thanks :) hope you enjoy it

a kiss on the lips

rivetra. canonverse. 3812 words. read on ao3.

Petra’s hands tremble imperceptibly as she carefully applies soothing salve to her captain’s wounds. The slight quivering of her hands would go unperceived by anyone else, but her captain’s watchful eyes miss nothing. He says nothing of her anxious hands even as they dress his wounds. He sits relaxed against the wooden chair, his demeanor completely contrasting against Petra’s nervous air. Whenever Petra applies salve to her comrades wounds, they tend to wince in pain at the sting of the cool ointment against their open wounds. Levi, however, doesn’t flinch in the slightest despite his wounds being fresh. The cuts and bruises on his skin are hardly anything compared to the injuries they face on the battlefield, but they look severe against his pale skin. Petra grimaces as she tends to a particularly deep cut against his jaw.  

“I’m afraid these will scar,” she murmurs. She finds her eyes constantly flitting between all the different wounds on the Captain’s face, the feeling of guilt in her stomach growing heavier with each one she finds. A particularly nasty cut on his lip attracts her attention the most, but it’s the wound she avoids the most. At the very least she dabs at it occasionally to keep the blood from running down the Captain’s chin.  

“I was never particularly handsome to begin with,” the Captain replies.  

“That’s not true,” Petra says without thinking, and she can feel his gaze on her even as she averts hers.  

The Captain is far from conventionally attractive. He stands at a measly 5’3” — hardly an inch taller than Petra is — and his pale skin accentuates the dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep. His hollow cheeks make his cheekbones even more severe, and his sharp jawline meets with a pointed chin. His perpetually sour expression doesn’t help his appearance, but there’s something becoming of the way all his features come together. The structure of his face is so delicate, almost feminine, and his gray eyes are such a striking shade that it’s difficult not to be drawn to them whenever one gazes falls on him. No, handsome is perhaps not the best word to describe him. Pretty is the word Petra would use, but she would never utter those words out loud.  

“Your features suit you,” Petra says, but perhaps it isn’t acceptable to remark on the appearance of one’s superiors whether the words are flattering or not. She bites her lip and wonders if she should say anymore. It feels dangerous to let it alone, but she can’t trust herself to say anything more. 

“It doesn’t matter very much anyway,” the Captain says, and it almost disappoints her how unaffected he is by her words. “I have much worse scars. It won’t be that much different having scars on my face.”  

“Still, I’d feel responsible every time I saw it,” Petra murmurs.  

“I don’t recall you giving me this,” the Captain says, and he lifts his chin slightly. He could be talking about any of his cuts and bruises, but all Petra sees is the cut on his lip. He’s joking in that dry, emotionless tone that makes it difficult to know when he’s speaking in jest, but at least Petra knows him well enough now to know the difference. It doesn’t make her feel any better.  

“You know what I mean,” she murmurs.  

It’s only now that she begins to attend to the cut on his lips. She’s careful as she dabs the salve against his lip with the pad of her finger. His blood comes away on her skin, painting her finger red.  

︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑ 

Petra left her father’s house much later than she intended. She usually leaves well before sundown. The Captain doesn’t care when they come back from their monthly military leave so long as they’re on time to their drills the following morning. Despite being in the military for years, it was still difficult for Petra’s father to say goodbye every time she began to head back to her station. This time, he had held her back and shoved more and more things into a basket that he insisted she take: fresh fruits from the grocer he had bought this morning, fresh vegetables he had just grown from the garden, and sweet pastries that he had baked before the sun had even begun to rise that day. Whenever she tries to leave anything behind, he would only shake his head and place it back into her basket, telling her that she and the rest of the soldiers needed it more than he did. Petra is a soldier with one of the highest kill counts in the Scouting Legion, but she will always be her father’s precious daughter.  

Her father continued to fuss about her even as she was leaving his house. She laughed as he called out to her, reminding her to dress warmly and to eat well. She pretended not to notice the tears that welled up in his eyes as he waved her goodbye, although it always made her heart ache whenever they had to part. 

She catches her reflection in the mirror of a nearby tailor. It makes her feel self-conscious seeing herself in normal civilian clothes. She’s so used to her military uniform, a standard white ensemble with a cropped jacket that everyone wears. It’s strange seeing herself in anything else, but she dresses more casually because it seems to make her father happy seeing his daughter dressed like a normal woman. As she passes by the store, she tries to walk as naturally as she can, but she can feel her spine straightening and her walk become stilted the more out of place she feels.  

Petra sighs and shifts the basket of fruits and vegetables to her other hand. She wonders if she should walk a little faster, although the Captain and the squad won’t mind waiting for her. She might be late for dinner and it’ll be a shame that they’ll have to wait for tomorrow to cook up the vegetables her father has given them, but she knows Gunther will be delighted to see what she’s brought back regardless.  

Behind her, she can hear a group of men singing. Drunk, probably, even though sky is not yet dark. She doesn’t bother to turn her head to look at them even though people on the street are whispering and turning their heads. She’s seen her own fair share of drunkards in her time, and they’ve never been very different. They’ll probably stumble into another bar and wreak havoc there before getting kicked out and finding another establishment to trash. 

Petra picks up her pace and the men’s singing have turned into shouts. Their shouting grows louder and louder. Her mouth settles into a frown as she tries to rid herself of the men behind her. It doesn’t even occur to her that their shouts are directed toward her until a hand clutches her shoulder and yanks her backward. Surprised, she yelps as she’s turned around roughly and finds herself surrounded by half a dozen men, most of them much larger than her.  

She tries to keep her composure even as her heartbeat spikes. She bites her lip to keep from crying out even as the man who has his hand clutched on her shoulder tightens his grip. Calling for help might only exacerbate the situation, and Petra’s not sure anyone would come to her aid anyway. When her eyes flit about in alarm, all the passersby are keeping their heads down, pretending not to see what is happening right in front of them.  

“Hello, pretty,” the man who has her in his clutches drawls. She can smell the alcohol on his breath and it makes her want to gag. His mouth stretches in more of a sneer than a smile, revealing yellowed teeth. “What are you doing all by your lonesome so late at night?”  

Petra doesn’t reply, not even to point out that it’s hardly late in the evening. She tries to discreetly break free from the man’s grip, keeping her eyes down so as to not make eye contact, but his hold is far too strong. She wonders if she should fight back regardless of the punishment she’ll face for laying a hand on civilians. Only Military Policemen are allowed to punish civilians, and Petra isn’t sure how lenient the military will be towards her even if her actions are in self-defense. She curses herself for not donning her military uniform today. Even if it has the Scouting Legion emblem emblazoned on the back, at least there was a chance that the men wouldn’t have known the difference between the logos of the different military branches.  

“You should join us, miss. You look like you could have some fun,” another man says.  

“Let’s have some fun. Do you like dancing?” asks a burly man nearly twice her size. He has to stoop down to speak to her, shoving his face in hers and Petra has no choice but to see his flushed face, eyes red from drinking. When she stumbles back in surprise, the man throws his head back to howl with laughter.  

“Give your basket here. We’ll take care of your goods and show you a good time,” another man coaxes. He grabs Petra’s basket from her hand and nearly all the vegetables and fruits come tumbling out of it. He does a few clumsy steps toward Petra, stopping only a few centimeters from her face. “We could show you a few dances, too. Doesn’t this girl look like she’d be a good dancer?”  

Petra’s strong, but she’s not strong enough to take down half a dozen men with her bare hands. At the very least, shouldn’t she attempt to run away? She tries to calculate her next move, but her panicked mind can only think about how helpless she feels surrounded by the men that tower above her. Her hands feel clammy and cold and her body trembles, but she can’t stand to be here another minute. 

Without thinking, she brings up her knee to knock the wind out of the man in front of her. His eyes nearly pop out of his head in surprise as he keels over in pain, letting out a groan as he sinks to his knees. His other friends are frozen in shock, so Petra takes the opportunity to break through the barrier of men that have entrapped her and run as fast as she can. She stumbles through fallen vegetables and fruits, the basket her father had given her forgotten with the men she is trying to escape. She doesn’t make it very far.  

A hand reaches out to grab her by the hair. Petra shrieks in pain as she’s pulled back and thrown to the ground. Her side is numb from her fall, and she stumbles to get upright but the men begin to pile on her. A man pins her down by her wrists while the others begin to clamber onto her, their gazes like wolves about to devour their prey. She opens her mouth to scream but chokes on a hat that a man has jammed down her throat. She can only gag from the pain, wriggling helplessly as she tries to break free. She feels their hands on her, fumbling for the ties and buttons of her clothes, and she wants to vomit. Tears form in her eyes from the searing pain, and she closes her eyes as if somehow that will lesson the pain. 

Her wrists hurt from how tightly she’s being held down. She wants to pull them free, and she can feel the bruises form around her wrists even as she tries to break out of her captor’s grip. It surprises her when she finally does break free. When she opens her eyes, she realizes the man is gone and the his comrades are looking up in surprise. Her gaze follows theirs and she sees that the man has been knocked down. Another man is on top of him, relentless as he throws his punches at the man that had just held Petra down.  

The other men have stopped, their interest in Petra momentarily interrupted as they turn confusedly to the stranger that had just attacked their friend. Petra, too, turns her head as best as she can, craning her neck to catch a glimpse at the man that had dared to interfere when nobody else had. She recognizes the military uniform at once — stark white trousers and pressed white button-up underneath a cropped jacket with the Wings of Freedom, the symbol for the Scouting Legion, plastered on the back. It’s only when the man turns his head, gray eyes blazing with fury, that Petra realizes that it is Captain Levi.  

The men are caught between wanting to flee and saving their friend. They stumble away from Petra, scowling at the Captain as they size him up. The Captain is only a few centimeters taller than Petra, and the men must believe that he can hardly be threat because they charge at him, yelling threateningly as they charge. They are no match for him.  

Petra drags herself up to a sitting position, grabbing the hat that had been stuffed into her mouth and tossing it aside. She coughs, her mouth still tasting of wool. She sees that the Captain has been thrown against the pavement, but he gets up much faster than the other men expected. The Captain is more known for his ability to fight Titans, but his hand-to-hand combat skills greatly surpass many of the other soldiers in the military. While he might be outnumbered, the other men are clearly outmatched. Their attacks are clumsy and uncoordinated, made worse by their inebriated state. Even if they do manage to get a few punches in here and there, the Captain is beating them ruthlessly. 

“Captain, that’s enough!” Petra says. She doesn’t know when she had gotten up, but she’s now pulling him away from the rest of the men who have been beaten senseless. They have more cuts and bruises than the Captain does, although he hasn’t left the fight unscathed. She winces when she sees the wounds on his face, although the Captain doesn’t seem be in pain at all.  

The Captain doesn’t respond to her, only struggles against her to throw in a few more punches with his bloodied knuckles as some of the men attempt to escape. The Captain only stops when the Military Police arrive, rounding up the bloodied men quickly now that the bulk of their work has been done for them.  

“Why didn’t you show up earlier?” the Captain snaps at one of the policemen that have approached them for a statement. The Captain has never been fond of the Military Police. This incident has probably soured his opinion of them even more. He hadn’t seemed tired as he was taking on six men at a time, but he’s leaning against Petra now as he curses out the Military Police. “What the fuck are any of you good for if you can’t stop drunkards from assaulting people?” 

“Captain, it’s fine,” Petra murmurs as she gives an apologetic nod to the policeman. “Let’s just return to our quarters. The others are waiting for us-”  

“It’s not fine!” the Captain says, cutting her off short before returning to his berating of the Military Police. “Are you just sitting on the shitter all day? At least come out once and a while to take care of the civilians you’re meant to protect, you dumb fucks.”  

“We had it handled,” the policeman says, but his eyes are cast downward in shame and his cheeks are flushed. He can’t even make eye contact with either of them. “Only the Military Police are allowed to punish civilians. Other military branches aren’t permitted to lay hands on civilians-”  

“Then do your fucking jobs so we won’t have to do it for you,” the Captain snarls. He turns on his heel and walks away, leaving Petra behind to apologize profusely for her captain’s behavior.  

They ride the ferry across the river that would take them only part of the way home. A horse ride still awaits them after that. As they ride the ferry, the Captain rests beside Petra, arms folded across his chest and head resting on her shoulder. Her father’s basket sits on her lap. The fruits and vegetables that had fallen on the cobblestone streets had been collected and placed back in the basket because the Captain wouldn’t hear of it being left behind even though there are only one or two vegetables that were undamaged.  

“Thank you for saving me,” Petra murmurs. Her eyes can’t seem to leave her Captain’s face, the cuts and bruises that wouldn’t be there if it weren’t for her.  

The Captain doesn’t reply and Petra thinks he’s fallen asleep. He stirs for just a moment and says quietly, “I should have been there sooner.”  

︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑ 

Petra realizes she’s been staring far too long at the Captain’s face even though the cut on his lip has been attended to. She no longer has an excuse for her gaze to linger on his lips, and she removes her finger quickly from his cut. She turns to return all the things she’s used to the first aid kit, making sure to avoid the Captain’s gaze but she can feel his eyes fixed on her. She does her best to maintain an air of normalcy, but she knows the flush of her cheeks gives her away.  

“It will take a while to heal, but the salve should help prevent scarring. Just let me reapply it for you in the evenings until it’s fully healed,” Petra says. She looks down, organizing and reorganizing everything in the kit even though there is hardly anything in there for her to fuss around with. She’s just looking for any excuse not to look at the Captain. She’s about to shut the lid of the kit and scurry off, but the Captain grabs her by the arm before she can make her escape. He’s careful when he grabs her, making sure to wrap his hand just above her wrists which are still tender from being held down earlier that evening.  

“I think you’re forgetting something,” he murmurs, his voice so quiet that Petra wouldn’t have heard it if she weren’t holding in her breath.  

She could feign innocence, insist that she doesn’t know what he’s talking about, or maybe clasp her hands and tell the Captain he’s exactly right before attending to a make-believe wound she had forgotten to tend to. She knows he’s referring to a habit she and the rest of the squad had started as a joke.  

Whenever Petra tended to her comrades’ wounds, she would kiss their wounds. She had gotten into the habit of it when taking care of Gunther’s siblings, nearly half a dozen children that got into more trouble than anyone could imagine. They would go out in the morning to play only to come home in the evening with scrapes and bruises all over their elbows and knees. She had pressed kisses against bandaged knees and elbows one after the other. The habit must have stuck because she had leaned down to kiss a wound she had taken care of on Eld’s hand one day without thinking. The others had burst out laughing and Petra, although embarrassed, held her chin up and asked Eld if he had any other injuries for her to “kiss better” as Gunther’s siblings often say.  

It became a running joke among the soldiers, taking care of each other’s injuries and kissing the bandages as soon as they were done being patched up. They would do so mischievously, with roguish grins on their faces if they were kissing a gash on someone’s cheek or a cut on their cheek. They did it with the affection of siblings or very close friends, never with any romantic feeling even if Auruo would joke otherwise as he planted a sloppy kiss against Petra’s temple as she groaned. It was a silly joke, one that Petra didn’t know the Captain even paid attention to. She never thought it was something to be ashamed about, but she’s embarrassed about it now that he brings it up.  

Her mind revisits all the cuts on the Captain’s face — his cheekbone, his temple, his jaw, his chin — but she can only think about the gash on his lip. It’s not as if she hasn’t thought about kissing the Captain. She’s probably thought about it more than she should have, but she never thought it would happen like this. Would a kiss like this be deemed improper? But it’s just a kiss, hardly even a kiss. It’s more of a joke than a kiss, Petra reasons, and yet she hesitates.  

“Never mind then,” the Captain says, and Petra realizes she’s taken too long to respond. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”  

Petra grabs him by the shoulder and pushes him back down in his seat before he can rise. Without warning, she leans forward and her lips collide with the bandage on his temple. The Captain tenses in surprise, but she continues to press kisses against his face — his forehead, his cheekbones, down his jawline, down to his chin — and she takes in his beauty as she does. She marvels in the sharpness of his cheekbones, the angle of his jaw, the point of his chin. His eyelashes are longer and thicker than anyone else’s. They would be wasted on anyone else but him, she thinks.  

She hesitates when she gets to his lips. He must sense her hesitation because his hand finds its way to the back of her neck and he guides her towards him, inviting but not demanding. In the end, she accepts his invitation. She’s hesitant at first, her lips barely brushing against his like the graze of a butterfly’s wings. His lips are soft and gentle against hers, and she tastes the salt of his wound against her tongue mixed with the sweet honey from the salve. She presses her lips harder against his and he reciprocates, his mouth opening to allow her taste and their tongues mingle.  

When they finally part, it is too soon. She’s breathless, her face flushed, but the Captain looks completely unaffected. All he does is touch her lip with the pad of his thumb and it takes everything in her not to hold him there.  

“You’re an excellent nurse, Petra,” he tells her. 

“Thank you, sir,” Petra murmurs. She remains there even when he gets up to leave, all alone with nothing except the memory of the Captain’s lips on hers.  

[universitypenguin]

We all know Lloyd gave princess👑👸 her nickname but by any chance does she have one for him? Alternatively has Lloyd ever called princess by her real name 🙊🙊 (feels like that’s something he’d do if he was suuuuuper mad at her or something which doesn’t seem likely lmfao)

Here’s a list of the nicknames Princess has called Lloyd, in chronological order, from oldest to most recent. 

Hotshot

Bossman

Quarterback

My Prince

Handsome

Honey

Sweetheart

Big Guy

Beefcake 

Baby

Tiger 

Cowboy 

The first three nicknames are the ones from the very beginning of their relationship. 

Princess took to calling him “hotshot” when he was showing off in front of the other lawyers and used “bossman” to let him know when he was being short with her. After finding out about his time quarterbacking for Harvard, she had a phase of calling him “quarterback.” Then, she found out it annoyed him when she responded with “yes, My Prince,” whenever he called her Princess, she used that for a while to get under his skin. However, it wore off after a few days and no longer bothered him, so she doesn’t use that one anymore. 

Now that they’re in a relationship, Princess has leaned into more traditional nicknames like “honey,” “sweetheart,” and “handsome.” When she wants to get his attention, she’ll use a nickname like “tiger” or “big guy.” The nickname “beefcake” sneaks into rotation when she uses it to compliment his physique and then decides it's too fitting to not keep using. Also, now that she knows about him growing up on a cattle ranch, she’d definitely use the nickname “cowboy,” now and then.

As for Lloyd using Princess' real name... very rarely. At this point, him calling her by her real name is like when your mother yells your full name across the room and you're like "oh, shit." Between them, Princess has basically become her real name, which is why Zach and the guys also started using it. But when they call her Princess it doesn't have the same effect. Lloyd is the one who gave her the nickname first. Even though it started off as something he said while being dismissive and rude, it's turned into a symbol of rank. When he calls her Princess nowadays, he means it with respect. Technically, "Princess" is a rank, just like "Admiral" or "Captain." It describes an upper-level position of authority and respect in a society, and that ends up being the reason he continues using the nickname.

To the causal listener it would come across as diminutive, but in reality, every time Lloyd uses the nickname, it's a tribute to the esteem he holds her in.

[vaguely-functional-directions]

I HUMBLY PRESENT:

PICTURE SHOW: I loved the contrast of Bonnie’s dream to be a Clara Bow-style It girl, and Clyde wanting to kill everyone lol. Bonnie wants fame and Clyde wants money, because neither of them grew up with that — so what I get from that is that they want all that they don’t have, the opposite life that they have as kids. I LOOOOVED the bit where young Clyde turned into adult Clyde before his sentencing, and he’s so disillusioned and thinks people will look up to him (which is also Bonnie’s dream). They both just want recognition, but Bonnie thinks that heroism is the way, and Clyde thinks infamy is the way to go.

THIS WORLD WILL REMEMBER ME: Clyde literally has the worst idols in the world. He’s got the worst possible way of being remembered — dude why. But he’s so nice to Bonnie and describing her future, awwww. The GROWL in “there’s no plan b” LORDDDD

YOU’RE GOING BACK TO JAIL: Christians omg. But why is Buck SO surprised that Blanche wants him to go back to jail?! He’s literally shocked like mate you’re an outlaw?! What did he expect lol. And I get her point that they’ll still be “in their prime” if he just turns himself in. God they’re so Southern. LOLLL THOSE WIVES REALLY DON’T GIVE A SHIT THAT THEIR MEN ARE IN PRISON HAHAAA!! Oh wow Trish is cheating, interesting!! “Heavens to Betsy” LMAOOO. Blanche swears she’ll stay faithful; I wanna see if she does!! “Jesus close your eyes” LOSING ITTTTT

HOW BOUT A DANCE: I loveee the tune even at the very beginning lol. her voiceeee. I love the flirty tone to Bonnie, she is very Clara Bow!! The bit after “you look so handsome” OMG THE SWELL HOW GORGEOUS I LOVE THIS SONG. It has a vaguely Christmassy vibe for some reason? Maybe in her soft vibrato? I love the way her voice absolutely soars. God I hope she gets her dream, she’s so lovely. OH the key change on the last “and you may lose your heart” wowwww

WHEN I DRIVE: damn the intro bass line was sick. I love how well Jeremy’s voice work’s for Clyde. They’re such Texas men lol. I LOVE that chorus, it’s so rousing!! “Just hold your nerve” EXCUSE ME SIR DOES YOUR VOICE HAVE TO DO THAT?? they really do think they’re heroes, and it kinda makes me sad, because this should not be how they wanna live and wanna die.

GOD’S ARMS ARE ALWAYS OPEN: the church music my god. Not gonna lie, im just letting it wash over me and not focusing much, because it reminds me of mass as a kid haha and it’s a hymn so it’s got the same message. OH WOAH and then the dude started with the different kind of song and THATS COOL HUH!! I do like the chorus element to it, cause it’s not so churchy anymore but it’s got that bit of church-plus-theatre sound!! Love the drums and the call-and response at 2/3 of the way through. STOP SHOOTING AND STEALING SHIT. GOD AINT GONNA TAKE YOU BACK ANYMORE BUDDY. That amen was fun hahaha!!

YOU CAN DO BETTER THAN HIM: okay except she’s describing the exact life Bonnie wants? Does he think she wants to settle for marriage and children and a mediocre life when she’s very vocal about her dreams?? Dude shut up you’ll never love her like Clyde loves her oml be quiet.  Okay and bro is bribing her with his money and connections? What a dick. Oh but Clyde knowsssss that he’s the man for her. “there’s so many that could love you like I do” MAKE ME CRY WHY DONTCHA?? it has a very Wicked-esque ending tune 

YOU LOVE WHO YOU LOVE: omgggg how sweet is Bonnie about him?? I feel like this is the moment she realises that even though she tried to change Clyde in the past, she now accepts him as he is and he’s the only one for her, she’s realising that she’ll love him unconditionally forever. “Maybe thats what made you love him all along” okay sTOP making me sob???? She’s following her heart awww. Common sense doesn’t know what love is!!!! I think I love Bonnie’s songs the best :D

RAISE A LITTLE HELL: OOOHHH it’s starts so wild-west-bar vibe. Loooove the bluesy tang. “Crooked god” the WORDS woahhhh. I love the lyrics to this, and Jeremy’s voice is so perfectly suited to Clyde’s songs, it’s crazy. “Ive been broken by the devil … I wont get to heaven, why not raise a little hell” HE KNOWS WHERE HE STANDS AND IS SO FINE WITH IT. BROOOO THAT GUITARRRR. The second verse is so vibey!! His voice breaks make me feel faint lol. And baby you can raise all the hell you want, Bonnie’s always gonna be your piece of heaven *swoons* anyway I feel like hes about to do something dumb

THIS WORLD WILL REMEMBER US: oh god the title makes me KNOW hes about to do something dumb. Ohhh Clyde this is not the life you need babyyyy. FOR THE LAST TIME, YOU DONT WANT TO BE AL CAPONE. “Bye baby” took me OUT, and then the pace changeeeee!! Ohhh but Bonnie wants to stop the crime so she can be famous. “When Hollywood gets hold of you they’ll be saying ‘Clara who?’” HE’S SO SUPPORTIVE I LOVE HIM (even though he is the king of bad choices) :D I love their harmony in the last “remember us”, how bright and loud is it?? Woah

MADE IN AMERICA: this is kinda cool, actually. This guy gets lots of ensemble backup in his songs, huh? I do like the interesting portrayal of poverty though. And the strings are fabulous, as well as the slower bit that speeds up; I love it when songs do that!! 

TOO LATE TO TURN BACK NOW: run Bonnie runnnn girl!! Oh wait what’s he done?? OH HE SHOT PEOPLE. Ohhh my god Clyde is literally a silly silly dude, he has no regrets. I like that Bonnie says its not too late and Clyde says it is, it’s a nice contrast of their characters!! And the bit where Bonnie’s singing at the start of verse two with no instruments is musically very cool. I love how clean it is lol. “But I meant what I said” was HELLA COOL. Clyde begging for her smile, stooooppppp!!! Aww and he’s validating her emotions … but he’s also a criminal … and Bonnie wants to leave … but she loves him … ouuughhh the conflict … and then the agreement to stay together!! Bonnie why must you always listen to himmmm??? But the lyric about making the headline but not knowing how is a little funny haha

THAT’S WHAT YOU CALL A DREAM: you probably know this, but I’ve worked as a stage manager for years and one of my best friends is a lighting designer; this song gives so many amazing set/lighting/blocking opportunities. I hope the directors and teach team really took advantage of such an amazing song for the actual stage show, because it could look INCREDIBLE on stage!! I do really love the song too.

WHAT WAS GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU: this also with the very cool onstage opportunities!! It has such a slow, jaunty beat and tune, and you can absolutely run with that sort of music. The choreography BETTER do this song justice!! I also LOVE the messaging, about having to reject your parents’ dreams and refuse to settle for less than the big, bright lives they want. “Babe, the meek don’t inherent a thing” GOT ME. BRO. And the chills I got when they actually sang “Bonnie and Clyde”, OH my god, that harmony, that belt, I LOVE THIS MUSICAL I NEED TO SEE IT LIVE

BONNIE: back to his country roots, lol. “I must be in love or else I’m going mad” and the LAUGH, SHOOT ME ALREADY!! ohhh and I love the callback to When I Drive, saying that driving used to make him feel alive but now Bonnie does *sobs* “my Bonnie” takes me out by the way. It’s kinda cute and sweet that he says “making love to” instead of something cruder or more vulgar, because his character seems so rough, and to change just that little bit when it comes to Bonnie is so symbolic

RAISE A LITTLE HELL (REPRISE): once again, absolutely wicked tune. Jeremy’s growling drawl is just amazing. But my dude they really just don’t learn, do they?? ALSO FUCK OFF, BONNIE LOVES CLYDE AND NOT YOUUUU. oh my god STOP. WITH. THE. AL. CAPONE. wooooaaahhhh the harmony on the last “let’s raise a little hell” is CRAZY, and the ending tune is such a theatre vibe!!

DYIN AINT SO BAD: why am I crying with just the first few lines? Her voice is so beautiful for this. This song has much more of a theatre-y feel than a lot of the others. “I hope to god that I go first” is soooo reallll. Aww god I love how devoted she is to Clyde, and how she’s resigned to the fact that no matter what happens, even if she doesn’t get that dream she’s always searched for, it’s worth it for him. “a short and loving life” *sobs* The swell of music for the second verse is lovely. “I’d rather breathe in life than dusty air” KILLED ME, I UNDERSTAND WHY IT’S YOUR BANNER, THAT ABSOLUTELY *SOARING* BELT FROM BONNIE?! WIFE?! and the way it softens after it … so beautiful. I think this song might be my favourite.

DYIN AINT SO BAD (REPRISE): “it’s death for Bonnie and Clyde” noooooo don’t say thatttttt!! But god is this version beautiful, and the soft harmony with “not if we both go together” killed me. I am dead, I have died. This is so sad because they’re romanticising this life, but it’s so upsetting what they’re actually dooming themselves to. Laura laughing sadly towards the end … god the stylistic choices are so well-fitting

HOW BOUT A DANCE (REPRISE): there are a lot of reprises in this musical. This is such set change music, lol, I hope the choreography was really swinging and suited to the tune. Damnnn girl really held that line, huh? Why is the last twenty seconds totally silent?

THIS NEVER HAPPENED BEFORE: oh godddd I can’t believe this is the last song. “Some little time” that note had me on the FLOOR. I love the contrast between their voices here. Clyde’s rough and low, Bonnie’s sweet and high. “Don’t worry, let’s take it slow, babe” — the climbing of the notes was lovely!! “I told you being with you is enough” is the whole meaning of the show, and I’m so glad they actually said it *cries*. That last piano trill made me SO suddenly uncomfortable and anxious I have no idea why, but it was such a lovely song that the chaotic piano ending didn’t match right … does it purposefully put you at unease or is that just a me thing??

AAAAAAAAA

PICTURE SHOW: YES literally just the contrast between the 2 of them growing up, and I think it says a lot how they both grew up with big dreams. And the thing is too, is that the setting is both of them growing up poor in like small town Texas, so really both of them are just kids with big hopes for the future. And I love how it goes through the years with them growing up !!! AND NO LITERALLY that part where Clyde says 'I wanna be the guy kids up too' sticks out to me as well. Like. Clyde why are you like this 😭 AND ALSO, I think it says a lot about Clyde's character too with how he is like that with the guns and all because he thinks it's fun and enjoys it. Growing up poor, he very much *could* have been someone wo was doing robberies etc... to provide for his family, left with no other choice. But this song makes it very clear that that is Not The Case. And the contrast from the intro with their deaths right into young Bonnie's innocent song about wanting to be like Clara Bow is just. Perfection.

THIS WORLD WILL REMEMBER ME: "Clyde literally has the worst idols in the world." LMAO but *true*. I like how when he starts singing about Bonnie's future he's like. He just met her, but instantly sees the same drive and ambition in her that he has and I think that's part of what drew him to her, rather than him just forgetting about her after parting from that first meeting. Like, he sees a bit of himself in her, almost (?)

YOU’RE GOING BACK TO JAIL: THIS SONG IS SO FUNNY I LOVE IT. Like the women are like. 'Actually we *love* that our loser husbands are locked away what are you talking about' Personally, I'm a fan of 'thank you Jesus, twice' 😂

HOW BOUT A DANCE:I knowwwww this song is like. The centre of the show, with the way it is at the very beginning and end, and plays at the pivotal moments. And the instrumentals is so beautiful!!! You mentioned the flirty tone, so i will mention that she is actually singing this to clyde in the musical; like I forget the word for it but like, it's actually her singing to him, not just because it is a musical. Like. I fully believe this song is the moment ehen bonnie fell in love with, meaning that drom this point, everything that followed was inevitable. My poor heart 😭Personally, I prefer the version of this song with Frances Mayli McCann (I think you listened to the original?)

GOD’S ARMS ARE ALWAYS OPEN: No like I literally love how this song starts being all about forgiveness and church like, and then by the end it's just clyde commiting more crimes before getting arrested 😂😭

YOU CAN DO BETTER THAN HIM: YOU UNDERSTAND ME WITH THIS SONG. When did bonnie EVER say she wanted the things Ted is singing about??? That's right. *Never*. I guarantee I have at least 2 posts floating around this website where I fully rant about this. Like, it's so clear that Ted sees Bonnie as the idea of her that he has in his head, rather than the person who is actually in front of them. And I feel like it has to do with it being like the 1930s small town as well, that even if she is vocal about her dreams to go to hollywood, people would react with the attitude of like. She'll settle down once she gets married, and no one takes her seriously. But CLYDE took her seriously, and fully sees that side of her. While Ted just sees what he wants to see. And in the later song, he has the line 'all I want to do is save her' BUT SHE DOESN'T NEED SAVING, TED. YOU ARE NOT HER HERO IN THIS STORY. STOP.

YOU LOVE WHO YOU LOVE: I literally love this song so much, and there are so many nice lines in it, I feel like

RAISE A LITTLE HELL: LITERALLY, the lyrics here are so good, and through the whole thing you can just feel the desperation coming from him. Like he *literally* has nothing left to lose. But like, you're right that he's about to do something at the end lol because this song ends with him killing another prisoner who was abusing him

THIS WORLD WILL REMEMBER US: BUT HE *DOES* WANT TO BE AL CAPONE. BECASE THE WAY HE SEES IT, AL CAPONE IS NOT TRAPPED IN A DEAD END LIFE, AND HE TOO IS GOING TO MAKE SOMETHING OF HIMSELF. I *love,* the bye baby, see you soon sugar exchange between them right before he breaks out !! And he promises her they will stop the crimes but does he really believe that he will?? Are the empty promises?? Does he even *know* if he means it genuinely??? And the ENDING of the song... they are out there living their best lives and like. YES.

TOO LATE TO TURN BACK NOW: This one is so good !!!! I love how just in general, Bonnie is so sure of herself and what she thinks about things, standing her ground. But it really is because she loves him too much to leave and like. AAAAAAA. And YESSS there are so many things that are mentioned that eventually *do* come true but just not in the way intended it's so fun. Also, I am LIVING for your phrase 'Clyde is literally a silly silly dude' LMAO

THAT’S WHAT YOU CALL A DREAM: This song was never one of my favourites so it has not occupied too much brain space to how it was done onstage, but it has grown on me. Basically just from realizing it is a complete contrast to dying ain't so bad. Like how bonnie and Blanche have their own songs about how one wants a long, easy, normal life, and the other just wants to really live, and it's ok if it's just for a short while. And one thing that sticks out to me is that both songs mention a rocking chair, with Blanche saying she wants like the typical front porch setting for her and Buck while they grow old, and bonnie saying she doesn't need one at all. BUT ALSO, despite their differing personalities and views here, they still share the song You Love Who You Love with the exact same sentiment, of why they fell in love with such similar guys.

(Also, I didn't actually know that, that's so cool!)

WHAT WAS GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU: YES to the whole thing about them saying they want different lives that their parents had, and the easy path that was set out for them. And also taking the setting into consideration, like 1930s depression era like. Honestly what else was there for them? What other choice did they have if they wanted to set out an achieve something other than their regular, mundane lives? And like in the song Made In America with the line Who can blame them, not their fault they turn to crime like. Yeah? But maybe their parents, in turn, wanted more when they were young too but just settled for what they got in life. But both bonnie and clyde completely rejecting that and saying that's not good enough for me???? You know????

I wonder if I am going to hit the character limit on this post again...

BONNIE: What I love most about this song, is the little bickering there is between them at the beginning with Bonnie interrupting his song. They are so cute <3. And I love how this is actually a callback to an earlier scene where Bonnie is reading a poem she wrote, and clyde keeps interrupting her, exact same as here but roles reversed. And I didn't know about that scene until I saw it live and when that happened I was like !!! because I knew this was coming up later and made the Connection in my mind lmao. Also, Clyde is supposed to be in the bathtub during this song which I think is really funny because just like. Why lmao

RAISE A LITTLE HELL (REPRISE): I LOVE the reprise here. Things are about to get INTENSE with Clyde and Buck paired up again. And then Ted just jumps in trying to be the sympathetic hero and like. Can you perhaps not. YEAHHH the ending note of the song is literally so powerful

DYIN AINT SO BAD: You literally said it all; this song is so tragic and beautiful. On one hand I completely get what she is saying with how she just wants to have really lived, but also knowing how she is so young but basically accepted her death is so sad. Like, she should be able to live and *still* have her whole life ahead of her. ALSO PLEASE KNOW THAT I'D RATHER BREATHE IN LIFE THAN DUSTY AIR IS ALSO MY PHONE'S LOCK SCREEN FOR LIKE 6 MONTHS NOW

DYIN AINT SO BAD (REPRISE): Like they literally know that they are dead at this point and are just on borrowed time like. How am I supposed to be ok?????? Literally when they both start singing together is just. 😭😭😭

HOW BOUT A DANCE (REPRISE): THIS INSTRUMENTAL IS WHEN THEY ARE GETTING INTO THE CAR ABOUT TO DRIVE AWAY TO SEE THEIR PARENTS, AND LOOPS RIGHT BACK TO THE FIRST MOMENT IN THE SHOW WHEN THEY ARE KILLED. IT'S SILENT BECAUSE. THEY DIED. THEY ARE LITERALLY DRIVING OFF TO THEIR DEATHS IN THIS SONG AND THEY DON'T EVEN KNOW IT. AND THEN THE SHOW JUST ENDS. AAAAAAAAAAAA (also side note about reprise because you mentioned, there is also a short one of you can do better than him before the dying ain't so bad reprise)

THIS NEVER HAPPENED BEFORE: So I am actually not too familiar with this song because it is a bonus track, not actually in the show, so haven't listened to it too much. But yes literally the lyrics in these songs is just. Yes.

[wives-natlho]

Pearl Lane Redux (Memories of Coco part 3)

I know you’re poking around. If you want real answers, meet me behind the gates north of Vesper Bay.

There’s a date and a time listed, coming up in a few days.

The typewritten letter was left stuck in the door of the tavern. It showed up overnight. None of the neighbors saw anything. Coco stared down at the bar, where the letter was placed. She hasn’t had any leads in a while and was beginning to think she would never hear anything else. If this isn’t about her, then maybe her job was done… but this might be her only chance to meet her mother. She has to do something. 

She’d call her friends to meet at Vesper Bay, to finally try and get some answers. She’d send Jaye out to get answers in Ul’dah in the meantime.

Was it a trap? 

Almost certainly.

Was she going in anyways?

Absolutely.

—--------------------------

Jaye looks upon the faces staring at her, and realizes she isn’t afraid this time. She thinks about the last time she was here, when things went very badly. Pearl Lane looks different to her now, with Ikko fluttering by her side. Jaye begins to feel sorry for these people. They are suffering, just like she used to. She thinks about coming back here later to help fix some of the problems of these destitute souls. She has a job to do, though, and must focus. 

The slip of paper in her hand lists a description along with a name: Hollow Crag. She feels Ikkobach thinking.

That’s a strange name.

You get used to it.

Jaye doesn’t even recognize she doesn’t have to speak out loud to her companion anymore. She just feels, and responds in a way she can’t describe. 

She spots her target, talking to a cadre of Brass Blades, and she notices him pass a coin purse to one of them before they depart. If she’s right, those Blades will encounter her allies soon, so she sticks with Crag. For a Roegadyn, he is short, but fat for someone trying to make ends meet in an alley. Jaye’s assumption proves true when she follows him out of the Lanes. The man, just outside of the Quicksand, straightens his back and removes his hood. He’s smoking a cigar and has a scar on his left eyebrow. His hair is short, buzz cut, and he has a handsome beard. His reddish skin contrasts the black hair and painted black fingernails. He has style, completely unlike the riff raff in the alleys. 

He’s been sitting in his chair at a table by himself and drinking far-too-expensive wine. He is handed a box of fancy cigars by one of the servers. He’s been here nearly half a bell before someone else finally sits across him. Jaye, leaning against the wall with her hood pulled forward, watches the exchange. Ikko has vanished, as to not draw attention. She sees the back of some figure. A Hyur, maybe? Pistol on hip. Long coat. Short dark hair. She takes mental notes, just in case. As she leans and analyzes the figure’s features, Jaye catches glimpses that flag some sort of memory she can’t explain. The shape of their nose? The ears? Something causes her to think so hard she furrows her brow and looks downward, processing… She’s looking DOWN! She catches herself and looks up. The figure was gone, but Crag was still there. That’s okay, he’s the target anyways. 

A few minutes later, Jaye follows the Roegadyn man between two buildings. From the outside, it would seem like this nook is particularly shadowed by the city’s tall buildings. Ikkobach, apparated in full, shields the vision of outsiders, and muffles the sound. Jaye tries not to seem surprised that it can do this. Instead, she focuses on the job – The job of threatening this Roegadyn until he speaks.  

She has previously considered herself to be getting good at the whole interrogation thing. Facing void and blade, Hollow Crag begins to shudder and offer his money. 

“I don’t want your money. How about you tell me who that contact of yours is?” 

“I don’t know! He called himself ‘Blue’, but that can’t be his real name.” Hollow Crag spills everything. Jaye smiles. She is pretty good at this.

“I asked who he was, not his name.” 

“A Garlean, he wanted me to pay off those Blades so he’d have time to —” His words are cut off by a loud sound, a deep bang.

Jaye winces, and when she looks up, she sees Crag crumple to the ground, a spatter of red and pink against the wall where his head was just a moment ago. Ikkobach releases the veil of darkness, just in time for Viera to see the killer: Not a Hyur, not entirely anyways. He pulls off some goggles he was using, presumably to peek through Ikkobach’s haze. Jaye gets a good look at those features she found so familiar. That nose, those eyes. She’s seen them before… 

On someone…

On her Girlfriend!

On Coco. 

Time to run

Ikkobach’s words bring Jaye back to reality long enough for her to assess the situation. The killer is already gone, and the area would soon be crawling with Flames, Brass Blades, and maybe a Sultansworn or two. It is definitely time to run. Jaye doesn’t understand what it means quite yet, but she does know she has just discovered something big. 

[tweedlydumbtweedlydoo]

Real or Fake? | Bucky Barnes x reader

Requested by @edencherries​ / Summary: Nat and Steve try to set you and Bucky up by sending the two of you to be a fake couple on an undercover mission at a fancy gala. Will you two still be pretending by the end of the night?

A/N: okay so I absolutely love how this one turned out. Yes, I used Hunger Games (if you’ve read them, you know) as an inspiration for the whole real or fake thing. Obviously it is fiction and a hair cut/growing a beard isn’t a good disguise for the Winter Soldier, but this is my story and I can write whatever I want. (You’ll understand this after you read it) 

@edencherries​ I hope you enjoy! Thank you for requesting!! xx 

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

Go follow my fic rec blog! ---> @imaginationgonewild0912

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“and that’s why we are going to send the two of you in there.” Steve is standing at the end of the table with his arms crossed over his chest. 

“Come again, who are the two you are talking about?” You ask, looking around the table. You wanted to make sure you heard him correctly. 

“You two, y/l/n.” Nat motions to you and Bucky with her fingers, “It’s time for you to be the undercover couple instead of Steve and I.” 

“They’ve seen enough of Romanoff and Rogers to know who they are. It would blow the whole mission.” Tony explains. 

“Okay but won’t they recognize me as the Winter Soldier? It’s not like that is a secret anymore.” 

“Exactly.” You add, “So, it can’t be me and Barnes.” 

“I’m not against it being you and I.” Bucky says from across the table, “I just don’t want to put you in danger because someone makes me out as the Winter Soldier.” 

You can’t help but blush at Bucky’s protectiveness. I mean, if he doesn’t care about it being you and him, then you shouldn’t either. You relax in your chair to hear what Tony has to say. 

“Yes, well that’s why you’re going to have to cut your hair and grow this out.” He motions to his chin, “Just a little scruff. That’ll probably be just enough to hide the Winter Soldier look.” 

Bucky subconsciously runs his fingers through his long hair, “If you say so.” 

“You guys are going to really have to play the part.” Nat begins, “I mean, you two have to look like a married couple, in love. Not all embarrassed to touch or look a each other like you’re doing now.” 

“We get it, Nat.” You mutter. 

“Good.” She smiles, “Lets go get you your wardrobe picked out then. The GALA is in a week.” 

~ 

“Barnes would like this one.” Nat holds up a dress and you scrunch your nose up at it. 

“Why does it matter if Barnes likes it? Shouldn’t I be the one who likes it?” 

“because he’s going to be your husband.” Nat shrugs and browses through the remaining dresses. 

“Fake husband.” You correct before finding a dress that you adore. 

“Not enough cleavage.” 

you groan, “Nat! Come on. I don’t want my hoohas out in the open.” 

She sighs, “Alright alright, go try it on.” 

You do as she says and when you come out wearing the dress, her mindset changes, “Okay, fine I actually like it.” 

“Then I’m going with this one.” When you turn to leave you hear her mutter something about Barnes is going to love it. 

~ 

“We really have to try on tuxes? I have plenty.” Bucky says to Steve. 

“yeah but you need a new one for this gala.” Steve shrugs, “Plus, Tony’s paying for it so why not.” 

“Are you sure that sending y/n and I is a good idea? We don’t talk that much.” 

“You guys are going to be great. I mean you two work well together. I’ve seen the two of you out in the field. The chemistry is great.” 

“yeah but that’s.. not even close to acting like we’re married and in love.” 

Steve sighs and puts a reassuring hand on Buck’s shoulder, “Look, you got this. Y/n is a beautiful woman and you two work well together. Who knows, maybe you two will fall in love by the end of the night.” Steve shrugs. 

Bucky rolls his eyes, “Yeah right.” If only he knew. 

~ Night of the Gala ~ 

Nat had spent the afternoon getting you prepared for the gala. She went over the target and what needed to happen tonight while she helped with hair and makeup. And by helping, I mean she told the ladies what to do. 

“And most importantly, have fun with Barnes tonight! It’s a luxurious night at one of the most anticipated parties of the year.” 

“Okay, but we’re still on the job. We still have to get intel on the target.” 

“Yeah but you two have to play the part, so you still get to have fun.” She fixed the bottom of your dress so you could see the final look in the mirror, “You look stunning!” 

You tilt your head as you admire your reflection in the mirror. Getting dolled up like this was a rare occurrence, so this was a treat. “Its not too much?” 

“No, it’s perfect. Tonight is going to be great.” She gives your shoulders a gentle squeeze, “We should get you to Barnes. He’s probably waiting for you.” 

~ 

“I don’t know if I like this new look.” Bucky rubs at the stubble on his cheeks and chin. 

“Facial hair is popular now. All the ladies love it.” Steve hands Bucky his suit jacket; you’d be down any minute now. 

“When have I ever had to worry about what the ladies loved on men? They loved me anyway.” Bucky chuckles as he slips the suit jacket on. 

“Yes, well, some of us weren’t that lucky.” He peeks over his shoulder when he hears you and Nat’s voice, “Look, if the night goes well, look in the left pocket of the jacket.” 

Bucky looks at his best friend in confusion, “What?” 

“If the night goes well, left pocket.” Steve quickly mutters out, but it was more of a jumbled mess as you and Nat approach. It leaves Bucky wondering what the heck Steve meant and if this was a mission, why would it matter if the night went well? He didn’t wonder for long, because his attention was somewhere else as soon as he laid eyes on you. 

You wore the dress with such a confidence he wondered where it could have been all this time. Yeah, he’d seen you out in the field, kicking ass, but this was a different side of you; a different confidence. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you outside of your field uniform. Well, there was that one time... Knocking is very important. 

“You..You look..” Bucky was tongue-tied. There wasn’t a word in the dictionary that could describe you. Not a word that would capture the immense beauty of what he was looking at in this very moment. 

Luckily, Steve jumped in, “I think he’s looking for.. beautiful, stunning. You know somewhere along those lines.” 

Bucky suddenly felt underdressed. did he put enough gel to slick his hair back? Did it look okay? Was his suit good enough? Did he put on enough deodorant? He put on his underwear, right? 

“Your new look fits you well.” You motion to your face with your finger, “You look very handsome.” 

He clears his throat as he fiddles with his coat, “It’s scratchy.” 

You giggle, “facial hair is very popular now though. The ladies love it. I know I do.” 

Bucky wasn’t sure why, but that comment made him feel giddy inside. What the hell was going on with him? Snap out of it Bucky! “Should we get going?” He holds his arm out for you and you gladly take it, slipping your arm through his, “Yes we should. Don’t want to be late!” 

~ 

When you arrived at the event, the two of you signed into the party under fake names of course. As you made your way to your table, you two began searching the crowd for the target. 

“I haven’t spotted him yet.” 

“Yeah I don’t...” You take another look and you finally spot him as he enters the room. “He’s just entered the room.” 

Bucky pulls your chair out for you, “Yeah I see him.” 

“Apparently we’re supposed to gather intel on the guy, but Nat never specified what kind.” 

“Steve didn’t mention it to me either. I guess we’re supposed to keep an eye on him?” 

So, that’s exactly what the two of you did. You two played along as the happy couple, talking with the others at the table while dinner was served. 

“So, how long have you two been married?” The woman asks with a smile. Oh god, you two didn’t even go over anything like in the car. 

“4 years.” Bucky smiles at you as he takes your hand in his, “But we’ve been together for 6.” 

“Oh that’s so wonderful! My husband, Carl and I have been married for 30 years!” 

“Wow 30 years? That’s.. amazing.” You comment, thankful Bucky took the lead. 

“You want to know the secret?” She leans in closer, “the sex!” 

“Oh?” Bucky asks, raising his eyebrows questionably at you. 

“No no!” She laughs, “I’m only messing with you two. This is going to sound so cheesy, but it’s love. It really is.” She looks longingly at her husband, “If you two love each other, that’s only half the hard work it takes to making a marriage last. The other half is being truthful. And of course respect, and trust. There’s a lot that goes into a happy and healthy marriage.” 

You didn’t know if it was on purpose, but Bucky gently squeezed your hand at the end of the lady’s advice. Something about Bucky shifted after the two of you talked to that older couple. Bucky kept his hand on you, whether it be to hold your hand, put his hand on your thigh or even around the back of the chair. It left you feeling confused, because from what you’d heard, Bucky wasn’t one for physical affection. You weren’t sure if he was playing the part well or if this could somehow be real affection toward you. 

The two of you swayed softly to the music. Bucky held you close to him, one hand in yours and the other on your waist, “Are you enjoying the night?” 

“We’re technically supposed to be on a mission.” 

“Yeah but we can still enjoy ourselves.” He pulls away to look down at you, moving a piece of hair of your shoulder, his fingers grazing your soft skin. 

“Are you enjoying it?” 

He chuckles, “I asked the question first, doll.” 

You playfully roll your eyes and shrug softly, your eyes dancing around the crowd to make sure the target hadn’t left, “It’s only pretend..” 

“Is it though?” 

Your eyes snap back to Bucky’s. 

“Is it only pretend?” His hand leaves your hip to run his finger along your cheek, “Are we really faking this?” 

The skin on skin contact sends a shiver down your spine, goosebumps covering your body, “I don’t know, Bucky. Are we?” 

He smirks softly, “You really don’t know how to answer a question do you? You’re supposed to answer it with an actual answer, not a question.” His hand moves to your neck, cupping your cheek as if he was going to... 

And then his lips meet yours. Bucky Barnes was kissing you. Oh god but was this real or fake? Was this a part of the married couple look? Was he only playing his part of your pretend husband? Even with the confusion, you returned the kiss. Your hands going to the back of his neck. If you were being honest, you didn’t want it to end. 

Bucky’s lips slowly leave yours, his eyes locked on yours. 

“Real or fake?” You whisper, gulping, “The kiss, was it real-” 

To answer your question, his lips pressed against yours again. 

~ 

As the party neared its end, you and Bucky decided it would be a good time to leave. Walking out of the event center hand and hand, Bucky remembered Steve’s advice. He patted his jacket and felt something in the inside pocket. When he pulled it out, it was a hotel key. The same one hosting the gala. 

“That sly bastard.” 

When the two of you opened the hotel room, inside it was only one large king size bed and a dozen roses sitting on the bedside table with a bottle of champagne and of course two glasses. There was also a note - 

 if you’re reading this, it means the night went well and our plan worked. Please make sure you give us credit at your wedding. Also, order whatever you want because Tony’s paying. We’ll tell him that later. 

p.s. don’t be mad, this wasn’t a real mission. We picked the guy out from the guest list and told you to watch him. - Nat & Steve (aka Matchmakers) 

Marvel tag list: @hommoturttle​ , @iheartsebastianstan , @5jacobm5​ , @lovely-geek​ , @fangirl-swagg​ , @1-800-thanos , @jessyballet​ , @katiaw2​

All my works tag list: @blossomreed , @mggstyles  , @simonsbluee , @thewolf-and-thesheep​ , @obxrafejjwhore , @abbiesthings , @itstaskeen​ , @reniescarlett​

[regina-del-cielo]

Immortal Siblings AU | Four, then three, then four again

I mentioned that the bulletpoint post describing how the Guard from the Immortal Siblings AU found Joe had totally run away from me. It has, in fact, become a study on them grieving over Lykon and then finding Yusuf. 

I have, somehow, reached a sort of natural end to the amount of bullshit my mind can add to this list/fic draft. So, if you want to give it a read... grab a snack. It’s long. I’m sorry.

Warnings for Wikipedia levels of historical accuracy - I added links to the relevant pages when quoting historical events, but since I was just trying to work out a timeline (famous last words), the research wasn’t extensive. There’s a lot of hand-waving.

By the end of the 11th Century, I think Andy, Quynh and Nico haven’t been in Europe for a while, not really. They moved south, and then east, after the sack of Rome of 410 CE. Seeing the great cities fall has become hard for them, especially for Nico, who is a nomad at heart but has a soft spot for cities, together with Lykon, the true city boy in the group. He’d seen it happen to Athens, he wasn’t sure he could deal with seeing Rome wilt.

For reasons I cannot fathom, my mind is settled on them having been in India when Lykon dies (possibly sometime around the middle of the 6th century, in the mess that was the crumbling of the Gupta Empire???)

Seeing him die destroys them, and they take a break from any battlefield to grieve their friend and brother. They wander, occasionally helping but almost never raising their weapons, too leery of injuries and of losing each other.

(Quynh, who was the first to notice Lykon’s wounds, has nightmares that make her cry in her sleep. Andromache holds her so tight Nico can feel the tension on her muscles against his back. He and his sister barely sleep, scared of the open spaces of Asia as they’d never been before. Lykon was the youngest of them and he died, what if they stop healing too?)

(If Nico stands guard over his sisters and feels an ache in his chest seeing how they hold onto each other, he’s never going to say it out loud. His Mache deserves the love she shares with Quynh. But sometimes he wishes he had someone to hold him like that, one he can call his heart.)

The first time they go to battle again like in the old days it’s almost the end of the 10th century, and they’re helping Quynh’s lands gain independence from China. They have a reason and a specific side to root for, and it’s the kind of cause Lykon would have approved of. They find purpose again.

They are distantly aware of how things are holding up in the west – they know Constantinople has crowned itself capital of the Roman Empire (what is left of it anyway); they know of the new religion, Islam, and how it was brought further east with the armies conquering Persia. They met the Varangians on the Northern Plains of the Rus’, when Andy insisted on going back to their steppes for a while.

They acquire new swords, repair the old weapons, make improvements on their bows. They travel, and help, and listen. They learn new languages. They heal.

They’ve just spent the winter in Samarkand when they hear merchants newly come from Constantinople talk about the Frankish armies that took Antioch and making their way further into Palestine. 

The words ‘freeing Jerusalem from the infidels’ make Andy sigh in exasperation and twist Nico’s guts. The three of them don’t really understand the point of going to war for a god, but Jerusalem is old, and she’s been coveted by many throughout their long lives. Things like this never end well, they know it intimately.

But they’ve been away for a long time, centuries at this point. Things are very different from when the Romans had the power. They are less eager to throw themselves into the battlefield now, and there’s much they don’t know about the dynamics of Europe and the Levant. Still they’re worried, and decide that they’ll move west to see if something can be done, for the civilians at least.

At first they travel slowly, keeping an ear out for gossip spoken by the caravans coming from the west. Things radically change, however, when they dream of a new immortal (a man, with a curly black beard and shining dark eyes) dying on the walls of Jerusalem and reviving to an unprecedented slaughter – said man is, obviously, absolutely terrified and they feel it.

He’s also woken up surrounded by living enemies, with high risk of being killed or injured multiple times, and of being seen.

They are still too far away to do anything more than hope that the new guy is clever enough to keep himself alive until they can reach him, but now Nico is all for moving west at full speed to get him out.

“What the everloving FUCK is happening over there?!” is the common theme in their thoughts; nothing about this war they’re walking towards is making any sense.

Yusuf al-Kaysani is, in fact, clever enough to keep himself (and a few other civilians to boot) alive and get out of Jerusalem when it becomes clear than no matter how many Franks he kills he can do nothing to stop them alone. (It’s a fucking carnage, and he’s so tired). He walks away from the battle and tries to reach some sort of safety in the desert.

When he’d decided to stay in Jerusalem and fight instead of escaping the siege, Yusuf had considered the possibility of dying. He had not accounted for waking up from a fatal wound with no sign of having been hit in the first place.

And then there are the visions. Or dreams, he’s not sure. They don’t seem to make any sense? Who are those people?! Is his mind so addled by the war that he’s conjuring scary warrior women and a stupidly handsome man, armed to the teeth and camping in the desert?

(fantasizing about handsome men in his sleep isn’t exactly news for him, but there were never women in those. And none of his usual dreams involved weapons. Something is definitely off)

For the following days, Yusuf makes sure to stay away from human settlements while putting as much space as possible between Jerusalem and himself – the last thing he needs is to become a potential target for any invader that may cross his path.

But he’s alone, having nightmares, constantly on edge, and in a body that suddenly doesn’t feel like his own anymore, since he doesn’t even have the scars to prove that the injuries he sustained were real to begin with.

After a couple of weeks, the appearance of the strangers in his dreams starts feeling safe and comforting; they seem to operate like a little family, and God knows how much he misses his own.

(should he try to go back home? Would news of the siege reach his family before he does? Would he be able to go back to his previous life in the state he’s in? Could he keep this secret from them? Would they still love him or think him a monster?)

Despite their impressive warrior appearance, they feel... kind. And gentle. Sometimes, it feels like they’re trying to reassure him, even. Especially when he dreams from the perspective of the man.

The sensation those dreams leave on his skin is like a cape. You’re not alone, it whispers. Wait for us.

Andy, Quynh and Nico have just left Baghdad when the dreams change, and not for the better - Yusuf was passing through a village when a band of marauding Franks started harassing the locals. He moved to defend the villagers, but was overwhelmed and what’s worse, the Franks saw his wounds close too fast. Their reaction was vehement: they called him a demon, incapacitated him and then brought him back to their garrison, with every intention of ‘properly getting rid of him’.

Nico wakes up screaming and Andy has to sit on him so he doesn’t just sprint ahead without actually knowing where the fuck he’s going.

“We can’t just raid every single Frankish encampment in a twenty mile radius around Jerusalem, Nico!” “TRY ME” *Aggressive Sibling Bickering follows* *Quynh doesn’t bat an eye and just rolls out a map of the area she purchased and starts mapping out the fastest routes*

Yusuf is having a Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week at the hands of his captors, who are getting disturbingly creative in their tortures, but whenever they let him fall unconscious he sees the people of his dreams travelling much faster than before, looking Royally Pissed Off, and the surroundings are... starting to look familiar too? 

If he tries to pay more attention to the conversations his torturers are having with each other outside of the tent he’s in and hoping the dreams go both ways, so the maybe-real trio can find him easier, now that’s nobody’s business but his own.

(spoiler: it works)

When they are in sight of Jerusalem, the immortals find a drunk “pilgrim” boasting about his band capturing a ‘pagan demon’ while coming back from their victory at Ascalon, follow him back to his camp, and as soon as it’s feasible they attack.

(Andy will later gripe that Nico didn’t leave her anything to do because he just paved his way through the Franks like he was harvesting wheat.)

seeing the Stupidly Handsome Man of his dreams standing in front of him covered head to toe in blood, with a double-bladed axe in one hand and a sword in the other, staring intensely at him as if to peer directly into his soul is... an experience for Yusuf.

(he may have composed a lot of poems about that first vision of Nico through the centuries. The words ‘avenging angel’ have been used quite profusely, too)

The protective instinct that Nico has felt for the newest immortal since the first dream clutches at his throat when he finally sees him, chained to a pole and so thin his clothes barely cling to his body, but with the softest dark eyes staring back with a glint of recognition when he comes closer.

(he could cry with relief at the knowledge that he’s not scared of him. Nico has seen the faces of the men that were keeping him captive, he knows he looks a lot like they did, and that he paints a gruesome picture.)

“Are you alright?” Nico asks first, in Greek. (He knows, from the dreams, that his captors prayed in Latin. He wants to make sure that the other knows that he’s not like them.)

“You were in my dreams. You came.” Yusuf answers back in the same language, although his sounds much newer than Nico’s.

“Of course. We’re not meant to be alone… and no one deserves to be in a cage”.

Nico uses the axe to break the chains, and by the time he’s done Andy and Quynh have reached them and his sister throws the keys at him to open the shackles.

“Couldn’t take a moment to get them yourself, little eagle? You wanted to show off your skills to the new one?” Quynh teases, just to see Nico blush. Andy stares at her brother and their new companion for a few beats, before finally asking his name.

“Yusuf ibn Ibrahim ibn Muhammad Al-Kaysani, known as al-Tayyib” he answers, letting out the first smile in weeks at the raising eyebrows of his saviours. “Just Yusuf is fine.”

“You have a sense of humour, brother. I like you!” Andy snorts, before cutting her palm with the edge of her axe, and showing him her fast healing.

“We are like you, Yusuf. That’s why you dreamt of us, and we of you” Nico adds gently, while Quynh offers her waterskin to Yusuf. They also offer their own names.

“We need to clean up this mess and move away from here” Andy says, while Nico helps Yusuf up. “One of those fuckers was boasting about an undying demon with others in a tavern, the last thing we need is to fight our way out against their whole army because someone else decided to come check if he was saying the truth.”

“It’s been a long time since we were in Kush” Quynh whispers, and Yusuf sees their faces open in a look of affectionate grief he remembers seeing on his Baba’s eyes when he talked about his own mother.

“We can talk about it more when we’re somewhere safer” Andromache suggests, before moving to set up the stage of an ‘accidental’ fire.

As they’re riding away, Yusuf turns slightly to watch the camp burn, leaving no trace of the invaders that hurt him. Jerusalem looms in the distance - lost, and wounded. If he were a little less exhausted, he could  easily work out a metaphor about his own situation.

But then he looks at the three people of his dreams – Quynh, Andromache, Nikolaos – that came for him. Who are the same as him, immortal.

His world has turned upside down, and there are so many questions to ask, and he could sleep for a month straight – but one thing is certain. 

He’s not alone anymore.

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Wait For Me // D.M.

Request: hi! can you do a request where draco performed the obliviate curse on his gf before the war, then met her again post war when he became a healer? the storyline is up to you! by the way, i really really like your fics 🥺 - anon

A/N: This request let me explore all the things I love: angst, healer!draco, and redemption. Thank you for trusting me with this request, I love it so much. This was not also on my WIP lost but I had an idea and I ran with it. With some hope, my next few fics will be from that list!!

Warnings: angst, mentions of nightmares and injuries, some anxiety, short words and tempers, swearing. A HAPPY ENDING or at least the start of one.

Word count: 5.2k

1996:

“You know why I have to do this, right?” Draco whispers: worried that if he were to speak any louder his voice would give away how close he is to breaking.

You nod once. A solemn nod that juxtaposes the tears falling freely down your face. How could you be agreeing to this when it made you feel like your heart was being ripped out?

“I’m sorry,” He whispers, arms reaching for you, the urge to touch too strong to resist. “If they used you against me or if you got hurt, I would never forgive myself.”

You hush him; not missing the irony of the situation. To be comforting him when you were going to have a large chunk of your memories taken from you, it was almost laughable.

The final few moments together are spent in silence, wrapped in each other’s arms, getting as much of the other as possible before inevitably having to let go. You bury your face in his chest, almost refusing to let go of him as he unhooks your hands from around his waist.

The time has come; it’s come too soon.

You barely register Draco’s tears mixing with yours as he hauls you in for one last desperate kiss. His forehead remains pressed to yours as he whispers three words.

“Wait for me.”

Then everything goes blank. A flash of white and your life begins anew.

No memories of the last year of your life; no thoughts about the blonde haired teenager that had occupied your mind and stolen your heart.

There’s nothing.

Five years later:

The strong antiseptic smell has your nose crinkling in distaste. The overhead lights buzz as the bright light bounces off the overly clean floor; it makes your head hurt more. You place a tentative hand to the side of your head, frowning further when you feel the large bump growing there. Removing your hand, you sigh, remembering the tears of the pupil that had done this.

Not long after the war, a new decree was issued setting up centres of education for young witches and wizards that showed magical promise. They operated extremely similar to a muggle primary school; however these followed the curriculum created by the Ministry of Magic.

It was in one of these schools that you worked, choosing to train as a teacher after finishing your education.

A rogue ball is what had landed you in the emergency room of the only magical hospital in Britain. It had come out of nowhere; the children playing happily as the weather had improved over the course of the day.

Tapping your foot impatiently off the tiled floor, you had to admit to yourself it had been partly your fault for not seeing the ball before it knocked you on the side of the head and subsequently knocked you to the floor. The child, a young Hugo Ward, had felt terrible – sobs wracking his body as he apologised to you over and over again to the point where you had to reassure him you were fine.

An hour after the accident, it became evident that you were not fine. The dizziness and double vision being symptoms of something worse, your boss had sent you off to St. Mungo’s without room for argument, promising you she would cover your class for the rest of the day.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N),” calls the triage nurse. A blonde middle aged lady with bright eyes and a kind smile; she points in the direction of exam room two and you flash her a grateful smile.

The hospital bed is uncomfortable as you take a seat on top of the crinkly paper. The pounding in your head had not stopped since you arrived but the dizziness was calming somewhat, and for that, you were thankful. It happens as a flash; a memory washes over you of a large hospital wing, two rows of beds and an elderly lady with fierce determination written over her face.

A single blink and it disappears. The flashes hadn’t happened for a while; the aftermath of a memory charm inflicted upon in your Sixth Year at Hogwarts. It wasn’t known who had done it; they had found you wandering the halls of Hogwarts alone and confused before realising what had happened. You had recovered fairly quickly; the only aftermath being the flashes of what could be memories.

You sigh, sinking further into the gurney as you think of the pile of marking waiting for you at home. Even a sore head couldn’t put off the inevitable.

The Healer doesn’t look up as he enters, pulling the curtain closed behind him, “I’m Healer Malfoy, how can I help you today?”

You sit straighter as you take in the healer. Blonde hair down to the nape of his neck, tied back with what seems to be a leather cord. He hasn’t looked up at you yet, but from your spot, you could tell he was handsome. A strong jaw being home to a distracting mouth. You look away, admiring the rest of him before you could be caught staring at his lips.

Healer Malfoy’s face slackens for a second as his eyes rake over your face. He collects himself after a second, but still, you noticed. He clears his throat, looking down at the chart in his hand. “(Y/N) (Y/L/N)?”

You nod, “That’s me.”

“You hurt your head at work?”

Again, you nod, “Twice over. A pupil threw a ball at my head by accident, but I knocked my head on the playground as I fell.”

Healer Malfoy places your chart on a nearby table, pulling latex gloves out of his pocket as he does so. He smiles at you, but there’s something guarded about the expression on his face that has question after question springing up in your overworked and pained mind.

“Did you lose consciousness?” Healer Malfoy asks routinely, silently gesturing to your head, asking for permission to feel the injury.

“No,” You answer, turning your head for him to feel the bump on the side of your head.

You hear his sharp inhale as he examines the large bump there. As if seeing you hurt physically hurt him too, yet how was that possible? Thinking through your admittedly fragmented memories, you cannot find a whisper of what the blonde haired man could have looked like younger. Something niggled in the back of your mind, a feeling, a hunch. You didn’t know what, but it got stronger every time you met the grey eyes of the handsome Healer Malfoy.

“This is going to sound odd but go with me on it please?” You say, voice lilting into a question at the end. The idea of not giving this man in front of you a choice simply abhorrent to you.

Healer Malfoy smiles: it’s polite and doesn’t reach his eyes. He takes a step back from you, needing the distance but also done with the examination of your injury. “Okay, I’ll go with it,” He states warily.

Your hands clench into fists; overcome with the urge to try and coax a smile out of him. “I don’t know how else to say it. Do we know each other? You feel familiar to me, as if I know you from somewhere.”

Whatever smile was on Healer Malfoy’s face falls the instant the words leave your mouth. His entire demeanour changes – shoulders stiff, hands gripping your chart so tight it could snap in half. Unclenching his jaw, Healer Malfoy grits out, “No. We haven’t met before.”

“Are you sure?” You press, deciding desperately that you needed to know the man standing in front of you.

“Very sure,” He murmurs, scribbling your discharge notes and handing them to you. “I would remember you if we had met before.”

The blank confession leaves you speechless. Blinking in what could only be described as shock, you take the outstretched papers.

“Your prescription is there too. You show no major signs of a concussion, just rest for tonight at least and watch out for anymore footballs,” Healer Malfoy starts, “Should you have any more problems, you know where to find us.”

Taking the dismissal for what it was, you hurriedly grab your bag from the gurney and leave the exam room, taking extra care to hide the dejected look on your face as you pass the handsome healer.

Draco watches you go. You all but sprint out of the hospital, almost desperate in your escape to get away from him and his short words.

The threat has been gone for years; vanquished not too long after the night Draco had taken your memories, after the night that continues to haunt his nightmares.

Draco Malfoy had faced the Dark Lord and lived – he has stared death in its sallow face and was not the first to look away. Yet, Draco was ever more terrified of what you would do should your memories ever return. Your rage was entirely more terrifying than staring into the soulless eyes of the man his parents so blindly followed.

Draco releases a breath as he spies your figure finally leaving the hospital. The released breath does nothing to loosen the tightness in his chest; the tightness that had been there since that fateful night in the astronomy tower.

He’s had this argument with himself countless times, always the same words and the same fight. His own justification for why he did what he did; why he took your memories of your relationship and sent you away. Deep down, Draco knows that he should have communicated better. He knows that he should have sat you down and explained to you his worries and his fears. However, at barely seventeen years old, Draco was just getting used to the idea of love. He knew what was coming; he knew that there were dark times ahead and he was unfortunately aware of how you could be used against him should the time come.

He had a decision to make, so he did. Thinking back on it now, it had almost killed him. He had never experienced a pain like it. Draco had been hit with the Sectumsempra curse and the pain that followed was nothing compared to the pain he felt when erasing your memories.  

Draco turns away from the door. You’ve disappeared around the corner; your head bowed, and shoulders hunched. He has no reason to watch you now. He turns away from the door, wondering whether it was fate that had brought you back into his life after such an absence.

An absence he caused.

-------

You return to work the day after; feeling fine enough to stand in front of your class and deliver your lessons of literacy and maths but also of spellcasting and magical control for infants. You followed your lesson plans to the letter; resolutely refusing to stray from them should they let your mind wander to the handsome healer and his cold words.

The healer continues to play on your mind for the rest of the week: at work, at home. You would go over the brief conversation you had with him; wondering at which point his demeanour changed, that he became closed off and cold. He hadn’t been welcoming from the beginning, but by the end of it he had downright cold. It should have warned you off; it should have been warning enough to keep your distance and to do your best to ensure you never needed to return to the emergency room, yet there was something about him. There was something hidden within his grey eyes, a dark secret ravaging him from the inside out and you felt desperate to know what it was.

-------

As much as you adore your vocation, as much as you love coming into work and greeting the children with a smile, there was something sweet about sending them home to their parents. A sweet relief that loosens the weight on your chest somewhat.

A shock of blonde hair has you turning back to the school gates. Your breath catches in your throat as you recognise the handsome face of the healer that had treated you only a week ago. His face not one you felt like you could forget.

“Healer Malfoy?” You call out, confused at his presence.

He smiles bashfully, “Draco, please.”

“Draco,” You greet. “Do you often make home visits?” You tease, a smile crossing your face.

“Technically, I’m at your place of work so this would be a work visit,” Draco comments, laughing lightly, seeming to be in a much better mood than the last time you had met him.

Your smile grows larger at the sound of his laughter. “Okay… do you often make work visits?”

He shakes his head, “No. I do not.”

“Why are you here?”

“Two reasons.”

“And they are.”

“One, and one I thought of just now – I wanted to apologise for my behaviour at the hospital the other day, I was rude, and it was out of line so I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologise for. I doubt that you get asked by many of your patients whether you know them.”

Draco smiles, “You’re right, I don’t, but nevertheless, I shouldn’t have been so rude, and I apologise.”

“Then I accept your apology, only if you accept mine.”

He goes to argue but stops himself at the last possible moment. You meet his gaze head on, watching the emotions pile up there. There’s something lingering in his grey eyes; something deeper as if he has more to apologise for but he isn’t ready to confess to what or why he even needs to say more.

“What was your second reason for being here?” You question, curiosity piqued but also wanting to move the conversation on, unable to look into his grey eyes any long for the fear that your heart may burst out of your chest.

Draco smiles, “I’m picking up my godson.”

“Your godson? Do I know who he is?”

“You might. Tobias Dawsey?”

Recognition flashes across your face as you picture the small brunette in your mind’s eye. “I do know him! I taught him last year,” You all but shout, “He’s your godson?”

Draco nods, “He is. I’ve worked with his mother from my very first day at St. Mungo’s, she asked me to be godfather when she found out she was pregnant with him.”

His words warm your heart; the care he has for his godson obvious in his voice. You go to say more, to try and coax more information out of him. Your need to know him almost choking you with its intensity, but for the life in you, you couldn’t figure out why you needed to know him. You move to speak, but you’re interrupted by the excited crow of a young child.

“Uncle Draco!” Tobias shouts, running up to his uncle on his little legs, his bookbag banging against them with every step.

“Hey kiddo,” Draco greets, picking up the child making grabby arms for him.

“Do you know Miss (Y/L/N)?”

Draco nods. “Miss (Y/L/N) came into work the other week,” He states, thankfully not exaggerating further.

Tobias frowns, turning his attention to you, concerned about his favourite teacher, “Are you okay though?”

You smile at the young brunette, “I’m all better. Your Uncle Draco fixed me up.”

Tobias nods seriously, “He’s the best Healer ever.”

You laugh; the love Tobias has for his godfather so clear within his voice, it only warms your heart further. “I have no doubt in that, Tobias. Off you go anyway, I wouldn’t want to keep you from getting home.”

Tobias and Draco wave at you as they leave the school grounds. The smile on your face doesn’t fade as you watch them walk away, the young boy chattering the ear off his devoted uncle.

Deep down, where you would only admit to yourself and no-one else, you hoped that you would get to see the handsome blonde healer again.

-------

Over the following weeks you spy Draco’s presence more by the school gates. Tobias clearly adores him, sprinting into his uncle’s arms the moment he sees him waiting for him. Crossing your arms across your chest, you comment, “You must be a very devoted godfather to volunteer to pick up Tobias this often.”

Draco shrugs nonchalantly as if the task of reorganising his shifts was nothing of a chore, “I enjoy spending time with him and…”

“And?”

Draco ducks his head, feeling the familiar heat of blush creep up his neck, “I like talking to you.”

He feels like it’s the wrong thing to say. He knows it’s the wrong thing to say. If he had an ounce of human decency within him, he would turn away from you the moment Tobias arrives. He would walk away from you, never to come back into your life again. What he did all those years ago was unforgivable despite having your permission. Draco knows he shouldn’t be back in your life, but now that he had seen you once or twice, he had to see you more.

He felt like an addict. He couldn’t leave you alone. Draco didn’t want to if he was honest with himself especially when you grin at him so widely his heart pounds in his chest.

You duck your head, your hair hiding your face. “I like talking to you too even if it is only at the school gate,” You shyly admit.

“Then we should change that,” Draco stutters out before he backs down. He wants to kick himself; he should turn away from you now and leave you alone for good, but that one selfish part of him that powers his heart tells him to stay put.

If possible, your smile grows larger, “Then we should change that.”

------

The friendship feels so natural once it starts; once the both of you get past the initial awkwardness that seemed to loiter from Draco’s cold words earlier in the year. It started with longer conversations at the school gate, but then he would come with Tobias’ mother and wait for you as Tobias would reluctantly leave with his mother. From there, it grew into a timid friendship that slowly grew more surer of itself as you invited Draco out for food or to museums or to spend the weekend with you, walking around the city when he wasn’t working.

However, as the friendship became more solid, you could not ignore the way your heart sped up with every smile and every laugh. You could not ignore the way your face heated each time he winked at you; a private joke shared between you. It didn’t feel like a passing fancy. It felt like something deeper, as if the feelings had been there before and had been dormant until now. You felt as if you were always meant to feel this way about Draco – the feelings tugging on memories you weren’t even sure were yours. Flashes of blonde hair and the powerful scent of jasmine all tied in with late nights in a tower you could barely recognise. Draco made you feel like the only person in the world; he was supportive and kind and funny. He was everything you could want and more – how could you not fall for him?

There was still the remaining secret though. It haunted him; his eyes clouded over whenever it was on his mind as if he was returning to the very memory itself. He would return shier, unsure of himself as if the friendship he had forged with you was about to implode and leave him shattered once more.

You ask him about it once. The two of you sat on your couch; you introducing Draco the wonders of muggle films and showing him your favourites when you catch him zone out. Your finger reaches out, pokes his cheek. “Where did you just go?” You question, a smile in your voice.

Draco reaches out, grabbing your finger, “Nowhere of importance.”

You frown, pulling your finger out of his grip, “You do that a lot.”

“Do what a lot?”

“Disappear on me. It’s like you have something big to tell me, but you just aren’t ready yet.”

Draco feels certain his heart stops in his chest. He tries to laugh but it comes out strangled; choked by the worry creeping up from his gut. Draco opens his mouth to reply but you beat him to it. “I’m not saying you have to tell me what it is now,” You start, “I just want you to know that I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

Draco closes his eyes, rests his head against the back of your couch. You had so graciously opened your home to him, opened your life and offered friendship to him, and he felt awful. As he should, he thinks to himself. He had taken memories of importance from you, and here you sat, unaware of the crime and sitting with the criminal himself.

It felt like there was a countdown ticking over his head. It felt like he only had a certain amount of time until he had to come clean and he had to tell you about that night in the astronomy tower.

Yet for all that was in him, for all that created his moral compass, he couldn’t bring himself to tell you and ruin whatever was blossoming between the two of you. Draco supposes he is a coward. He probably is, he tells himself, but he cannot bring himself to care about his cowardice when you smile at him like he holds the sun and stars for you.

Does he regret that night? With everything within him. Would he do it again knowing the outcome? Of course he would. He would sacrifice himself  and his happiness a thousand times over to ensure your safety.

---------

Draco tells himself he’ll confess the next time he sees you which is both all too soon and not soon enough. His love for you had never faded; he hadn’t been the one to forget the short relationship you had. The intensity that accompanied teenage love and infatuation had never left the forefront of his mind. After all, how could they? Now that you were back in his life, he felt the teenager again – utterly drawn to you and unwilling to let you go.

He confesses late on a Tuesday night. The shift at St. Mungo’s had been long and arduous, but he got through it with the single thought of you. He knew that at the end of it, he would get to knock on your door. He only hoped that you wouldn’t turn him away once you found out the truth. Your hatred of him could never rival the hatred he feels for himself, but he finds himself hoping for your forgiveness.

“I have to tell you something,” Draco states, plain and simple.

You chew on the inside of your cheek before answering, “You can tell me anything.”

“You had a memory charm used on you in Sixth Year, didn’t you?”

“How did you know that?” You demand. Despite the friendship grown between the both of you, you hadn’t told him that. You had given him bits and pieces, alluded to the fact that there were gaps in your memories, but you hadn’t told him the truth. Just like he hadn’t told you what made him disappear inside his mind like he so often does.

“I took your memories. It was me.” Draco confesses, his voice clear in the quiet room.

“What?” You shout, anger shooting through you.

“I took your memories. I used a memory charm on you in the middle of Sixth Year when things started to take a turn for the worst.”

“What gave you the right?” You cry, tears building out of upset and anger.

“You did,” Draco states plainly, “You didn’t want to at first, but you came round to my way of thinking when you saw how bad things were getting at home.”

“Why would I agree to that?”

“Because once upon a time, you were in love with me.”

You shake your head, pacing back and forth in your living room, trying to get to grips with the piles of information only just dumped on you. Draco watches you pace; his grey eyes following each step intently as you work through everything in your head.

Worry shines bright in his eyes when you stop pacing. He goes to take a step towards you, but you step back. The small space between you feels like a great chasm, a gaping void that Draco is desperate to fill, to patch up.

“Tell me everything,” You state before adding on, “Please.”

Draco releases a shuddering breath before starting: “We were friends through school. I don’t remember how the friendship started, but it did and for years we were really good, close friends. Then along the way, the friendship changed. We fell in love, or whatever it is at sixteen/seventeen years old. We had less than a year together when things started to change; when whisperings of the Dark Lord’s return were strengthened by continued attacks on the Ministry.

“You argued with me for hours,” Draco pauses, laughing as he remembers what you clearly couldn’t, “I had never seen you so angry or so stubborn. You were adamant, you didn’t want to but then you went quiet and I knew you saw what I had seen. You agreed after a minutes silence; told me yes even though it broke the both of us to do so.

Draco’s grey eyes are lined with unshed tears as he murmurs, “I couldn’t let them have you. My family was working with the darkest wizard there had ever been in the last century, if he had gotten a whiff of what you meant to me, you would be used in ways that not even I could imagine. My aunt would have taken great pleasure in ensuring that you would be a bargaining chip for me to fulfil whatever mission they handed me. That was something I couldn’t allow.

“It broke me to do it. To watch your eyes go blank as the memories of what we shared disappeared. Selfishly, I asked you to wait for me, not knowing that they would be tied to you afterwards. I just… I couldn’t let you go. As a teenager and an adult. There’s no real excuse for what I did, but know it was out of love for you that I did it.”

Draco falls silent. His heavy words adding to the growing tension in the room. Draco’s mind runs a thousand miles a minute; his eyes don’t leave you as he watches you work through every emotion coursing through your body. He sees the anger, the sadness, the frustration, but he also sees the relief at having an answer for those gaps that you had only recently confessed to him.

You break the loaded silence, “I forgot the relationship, but on some level I don’t think I ever forgot you.”

“What?” Draco asks, the air rushing out of him in one fell swoop.

A smile creeps across your face; relishing somewhat at having caught him off-guard. “I have glimpses of what I always assumed was a past life. The memories were always fuzzy around the edges, but they were clear enough for me to catch glimpses of blonde hair or to spy the pattern of a ring much like the one on your signet ring.”

Draco remains silent; he doesn’t dare talk; he doesn’t dare breathe. Nothing prepares him for your next words.

“I waited for you… like you asked.”

Those words. Those foolish words that he had absolutely no right to whisper to you. Draco had been so overwhelmed in that moment, yet he couldn’t ignore the small kernel of hope that despite the strength of the memory charm, a part of you would remember him and would wait for him.

But you had.

You had waited for him. You barely knew who he was, but you had waited for him, hoping that one day he would cross your path.

“Fuck,” Draco whispers, running a hand through his growing hair, starting to pace the length of your living room.

“When I woke after my memories had been taken, I clearly didn’t remember a single thing, but I had the echoes of three words ringing in my ears. A beg, a plea of someone – a boy asking for me to wait for them. I didn’t know completely who I was waiting for, I didn’t know it was you until I saw you at the hospital that first time and then again so soon after leaving. My memories haven’t returned, and I doubt they will, but I just know that it was you who I was waiting for.”

Draco falls silent, letting your words fall over him and sink into his skin, settling deep within his bones.

Years. It had been years since that night in the astronomy tower where he took your memories. It had been years since he felt the longing and love; there had been no-one lese and there would be no-one else. For Draco, there was only ever you… and you had waited.

You had waited for him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Draco repeats, hands continuing to run through his hair in frustration as he paces the room. He faces you; grey eyes wild with emotion, “How are you not angry with me?”

“I am angry with you! I’m furious with you, Draco! You took my memories, but if you say I agreed to it, I’m just as angry with myself for allowing myself to forget you.”

“What do we do?” He asks, a hand running down his face as he tries to figure out the next step.

“Forgiveness,” You state simply, “We try to move on.”

Draco’s hands drop limply at his side as he gasps, “Forgiveness?”

“What happened after you erased my memories, Draco?”

“There was a war. I was on the wrong side,” is all he says. He isn’t ready to go into too much detail. That’s another story for another day.

“Was that what you were trying to protect me from? The wrong side?”

Draco nods wordlessly. He saw things going south so quickly but his parents hadn’t. They pushed and they pushed; inducting him into the same pureblood fanaticism they relished.  “How can you even think of forgiving me? I took your memories. I stole them from you, and you won’t ever get them back,” He argues, wanting to know whether you truly understood what you were doing by forgiving him.

“Let me ask you something, Draco.”

“What?”

“Do you plan on leaving again?”

He shakes his head immediately. He doesn’t think he could leave you even if he tried.

You shrug your shoulders, “That’s how I can think of forgiving you.”

“I don’t understand,” He whispers; his own self-hatred confused by your words.

“The wizarding war was about to descend into war. We were confused, scared teenagers who didn’t see another option. You asked my permission, Draco, and I granted it clearly.”

“But-”

You cut him off, “No buts. I said yes. I gave permission and we cannot change the past, Draco but we can control our future. It’s going to require work on both sides, but you can tell me about what I’m missing and at the same time we can forge something new.”

“What do you mean?”

You smile shyly, taking that all important step towards him, “Make some new memories with me, Draco.”

*****

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @theweasleysredhair @harrypotter289 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @figlia--della--luna @idont-knowrn @liilyevanss @big-galaxy-chaos @black-lake-confessions @annasofiaearlobe @imboredandneedalife @levylovegood @mytreec @haphazardhufflepuff @teheharrypotter @chaoticgirl04 @accio-rogers @starlightweasley @dreaming-about-fanfictions @lestersglitterglue @msmimimerton @obx-beach @izzytheninja @slytherinprincess03 @bbeauttyybbx @breadqueen95 @acciotwinz @kashishwrites @slytherinsunrise @kylosleftbuttcheek @remmyswritings @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon @ria-rests-here @superbturtlemakerathlete @inglourious-imagines @ithilwen-lionheart @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @ilovejjmaybank

Draco Malfoy taglist: @the--queen-of-hell @obxmxybxnk @obx-beach @sycathorn-slush @dracomalfoyswifey​ @kashishwrites​ @justmesadgirl​ @detroitobsessed​ @reaganwonders​ @just-a-belgian-girl​ @aspiringsloth20​ @lahoete​ @minty-malfoy​ @fallinallinmendes​ @ravenclawbitch426​ @ochrythum​ @beiahadid​ @gryffindors-weasley​

[goldenmalfoyy]

be mine // f.w

Request: heyyyy im not sure if your requests are open but i am absolutely IN LOVE with the way your write and especially your fred weasley fics!! if it isn’t too much to ask id love a fred weasley x reader where they are best friends and go to the Yule ball (or something like that) and there’s like a confession for liking one another?? again sorry if requests are closed, but i love your work!! ❤️

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: none :)

The atmosphere around you buzzed with excitement and anticipation. The Great Hall was filled with loud voices and whispers as everyone talked about the upcoming Yule Ball that was just a week away. But you only felt the dread at their conversations, you had yet to find a date and you weren’t sure that you would in the short amount of time you had left.

“Come on Y/N! You won’t be alone, we’ll be with you.” Hermione tried to comfort you but it didn’t help. You weren’t going to invade on the fun that your friends and their dates would have, especially when you knew that they should be enjoying their night more with them instead of you.

“It’s okay Mione. I think I’m going to just have a relaxing night.” You tried to assure her but she saw right through you which you should have expected from her. She shook her head at you and was about to open her mouth to speak again but you could hear the booming voices and your attention shifted towards them.

You couldn’t take your eyes off the two red headed twins as they entered the Great Hall, a wide grin on their faces as they stepped over to the Gryffindor table to talk to you. They plopped down on either side of you, Fred’s arm was thrown over your shoulder as he pulled you closer to him and you hoped that he couldn’t feel the fast rate of your heart.

“Good morning Y/N,” They greeted in unison as they leaned over and stole some of the breakfast food on your plate, which you expected from your best friends. You jokingly rolled your eyes at them and swatted Fred’s hand away from your plate.

“Thiefs, the both of you.” You tell them and they only laugh at your words. Fred’s arms tightened more around you and you felt the vibrations of his laugh, the happiness and joy spreading from him to you.

“You know you love us.” Fred replies. You felt your face and neck heat at his words, of course you loved them; they were your best friends, but with Fred it was a different kind of love than the one you held for George. 

“Hmm not anymore. You ate my waffle,” You retort and you pulled out your best pouting face. He laughed and turned to fully face you, he had to stop for a moment as his eyes fell on you, trying to resist the urge to lean down and kiss you. 

Fortunately for him, Angelina waltzed up to your friend group with a kind smile on her face. She placed an arm in between you and George and she bent slightly to talk to him. You noticed the love struck look on George’s face as she came close to him. 

“My dress is a deep purple. I expect you to match Weasley,” Angelina says to George. You turn your face to look over at Fred, you hadn’t known that George had already found himself a date. 

“He asked her the other day.” Fred informed you knowing that you were curious about his twin. You watched him for a moment, if George had a date then Fred definitely did too and you felt your heart sink a little at the thought.

“Am I the only one without a date?” You groaned and you let your head fall in your hands. You felt like the outcast, everyone of your friends was going to go to the ball and have the time of their lives while you had to be alone.

George quickly looked at you, noticing that you had your face hidden and using the moment to shoot a quick look at his brother. This was George’s chance to get Fred to ask you to be his date.

“Actually Fred here doesn’t have a date either.” George answers and he shoots his twin a look but Fred quickly shakes his head at his twin for springing it on him. George just smirks at his brother before looking back at you.

“Why not Freddie?” You ask as you remove your hands and look over at Fred. He just shrugged at your question, not willing to tell you the truth. He wanted to ask you, but he didn’t want to lose you if you didn’t feel the same, he couldn’t handle losing his best friend and the girl he was in love with.

“Why don’t the two of you go together?” Hermione suggests innocently. She saw the perfect opportunity that George set and she took it. Your eyes widen as you look at her, shocked that she would do that to you. 

“Oh no it’s okay. Fred shouldn’t be obligated to go with me.” You tried to excuse. You didn’t want to be Fred’s last resort for a date, it would break you if you were. 

“It’s not an obligation if I want you to be my date.” Fred whispers as he looks down at you. You turn from him to Hermione with even wider eyes. You could practically feel your heart stop at his words, you weren’t expecting him to actually want to go with you. He breaks out into a smile at your reaction, you looked adorable when you were shocked like that. 

“What do you say? Will you be my date to the yule ball?”

“Yes Freddie. I would love to be your date.”

~

You checked in the mirror one last time, the yellow dress you wore complimented you perfectly. It hugged your upper body but flew out in waves as it passed your waist, tiny gold flowers perfectly decorating the fabric. As your eyes roamed over the dress to make sure it was perfect, you ran your hands down the sides to help calm the nerves that were drowning you. You were about to go to a ball with your best friend who you were in love with, how hard could it be?

“You are going to take his breath away.” You hear her say. You look up and meet her eyes in the mirror, sending her a small smile before turning on your heel. Your younger friend leaned against the doorframe, the pink ruffled dress was stunning on her. 

“Mione! You look beautiful!” You compliment her as you take a step towards her. She smiles at you but she shakes her head at your words. 

“Thanks Y/N but look at yourself!” She responds as she gestures her arms towards you. “Fred is going to go absolutely crazy.” She adds which causes you to blush at her words. You hoped that you would have an effect on him but it was only a wish. Fred was your best friend and that’s all he would ever see you as.

“Mione he’s just my friend.” You whispered and you shook your head at her. You notice her shoulders drop at your words and she just looks at you in disbelief. Hermione knew you were brilliant, but she just couldn’t understand how you’ve been so oblivious towards Fred’s obvious feelings towards you.

“Whatever you say.” She spoke which caused you to playfully roll your eyes at her before gently smacking her arm.

“Mione!” You say in mock anger which only causes the two of you to burst into laughter. You take a moment to catch your breaths before looking at the clock. “We should head down now.” You tell her. She smiles over at you before the two of you take a deep breath. 

Soon the two of yourselves found yourselves peering over the corner, checking to see who waited at the bottom of the stairs. You easily spotted Fred, George, and Angelina waiting there for you which made the nerves feel a hundred times worse than they were in your dorm room. But you couldn’t deny how handsome Fred looked in his dress robes, something so uncommon for the boy.

“You go. I just need a minute.” Hermione whispers, effectively pulling you out of the trance Fred had seemed to put you in. You look over at your friend to see her sending you an encouraging smile which seemed to help your nerves.

“I’ll see you in there Mione.” You tell her before turning back on your heels. With one last deep breath, willing yourself to hide the nerves, you took the last step and revealed yourself to be on top of the stairs.

Fred stood at the bottom of the stairs, fixing his vest for the hundredth time. He was filled with nerves and excitement. 

“Fred if you fix that vest one more time,” George began as he watched his twin nervously fidget as they waited for you. He was very aware of his brother’s feelings for you, it was obvious to everyone except you. George knew about it since the moment Fred started excluding you from their pranks, his twin always thought that everyone was fair game to be pranked but then Fred came in and told George that you were off limits, that was when he knew Fred saw you as more than a friend. “Fred calm down. You two will have a perfect night,” George added trying to ease his brother’s nerves.

“I know. I just…” Fred trailed off as his thoughts drifted to you. He truly wanted to make the night amazing for you, he wanted to make you happier than ever and he couldn’t wait to have you in his arms.

“Love her? We know.” Angelina finishes his sentence interrupting Fred’s thoughts about you. He turns to her quickly and begins to shake his head, wanting to deny her claim but he knew in his heart that he loved you. Just as he was about to respond to Angelina he felt George’s elbow sharply jab him in the ribs which caused him to send a harsh glare at his twin.

“Your date has arrived.” George whispers in his twin’s ear and gestures over to where you stood at the top of the stairs. Fred turns on his heels and the moment his eyes land on you, he swears he could’ve felt his heart stop and his breath leave his body. 

To Fred, you looked beyond beautiful standing there in the yellow dress with a radiating smile on your face. You were everything good that Fred couldn’t describe and he knew that tonight he was barely going to be able to focus on anything beside you. He kept his starstruck eyes on you as you slowly descended the stairs, the nerves overtaking your body as you watched Fred’s reaction. 

“Hi Freddie.” You greet him as soon as you reach him. You smile up at him since he was towering over you. 

“Hi love,” He replies and his eyes roam over you once more, taking in the beauty that was now in front of him. “You look...beautiful.” You felt the butterflies overtake your stomach and the blush become even deeper at his words. 

“And you look handsome Freddie. You clean up good.” You compliment as you raise a hand up to touch the yellow vest of his dress robes and the other coming to brush the hair out of his face. 

 “All for you love.”

“Well I feel honored. Now Freddie, shall we head in?” You ask as you wrap one of your arms with his. He gently smiles down at you and leads you into the Great Hall. Fred made sure to keep his eyes focused on you as you reacted to the decorated Great Hall, it seemed enchanting. 

You shift your eyes from the decorations over to Fred who was looking at you. And you knew you made the right choice being Fred’s date. You wouldn’t want to experience this with anyone else. To be in his arms tonight, in this beautiful hall, it made your heart swell with even more love for him.

Before you knew it, everyone was crowded around the dance floor, dancing to the loud songs of the Weird Sisters. You and Fred found yourselves in the middle of everyone, jumping along with everyone else and laughing at each other's absurd dance moves. Fred’s long hair was bouncing everywhere as he danced to another song of the Weird Sisters which caused you to burst out into laughter at the ginger boy in front of you. He pointed his finger at you, signaling that it was your turn to dance as wild as him. 

You threw your head back in laughter as he started to pretend to be the bass player, rocking his head to the music and accidentally bumping into the other students. You quickly joined him and followed his movements for a few moments, the goofy side coming out of the both of you. Eventually everyone around you turned to look at the two of you, seeming to be engrossed by each other.

You suddenly felt his large hand wrap around your wrist, keeping you close to him as he led you out of the stuffy crowd. The two of you are still laughing from the previous dance moves. He pulled you into a corner, hidden behind the big tree that was set up and he pressed you up against the wall.

“That was wicked.” Fred tells you as he tries to catch his breath. You shake your head as you try to get yourself to stop laughing, which loosened the pins in your hair enough to make your hair fall onto your face. You didn’t notice when Fred looked at you with adoration in his eyes and you didn’t notice when he moved his hand to brush the hair away from your face until you felt his hand resting against your face. 

“Freddie,” You whisper as your eyes meet his. He was so close that you could feel his warm breath against your face, his chest pressing against yours and his other hand coming to find your waist. 

“Y/N I need you to promise me something.” He mumbles but you were close enough to hear him properly. You furrow your brows at his request but nod nonetheless.

“What’s that?” You ask and your hand finds its way to his chest to play with his vest once more. You could see how nervous he was, it was a total 180 from his usual confident self.

“Promise me you won’t leave me after I say this.” Your heart stops at his words. You would never think of leaving the ginger boy in front of you, he was your Freddie and always would be. He was your favorite person and you would never dare leave him.

“I promise. I would never leave you Freddie.” You reassure him. You feel his fingers tighten on your waist as you said that. He would keep you there in this moment forever if he could. But he was about to tell you the truth and he hoped that you somehow felt the same.

“I love you. Actually no, I am in love with you. You’re just perfect in every way and whenever I’m with you, I’m the happiest whether that be studying or helping me prank people.” Fred admits. “And if you don’t feel the same that’s fine. You’ll still be my best friend and George’s best-”

“Fred stop. I’m in love with you too.” You interrupt him and pull him closer to you. A wide smile spread across his face as he processed your words. You loved him too and that made his 

“Can I kiss you?” He asks his eyes flicking from yours down to your lips. He wanted this more than ever, he had been waiting a long time for this to 

“Kiss me Weasley.” And Fred quickly presses his lips against yours. It was slow and hesitant, this was something new for the two of you but you soon fell into a passionate rhythm. Your hands moved down to his hips and pulled his body closer to yours while his hands found their way to cup your face. Everything was falling into place now, Fred loves you and you love him. 

“Be mine. Officially.” Fred whispers against your lips once you slightly pull away for air. You smile for what seems like the hundredth time that night and the love and happiness you had began to spread even more in the atmosphere between you two. 

“I’ll always be your Freddie.” Once those words were out of your mouth, his lips found yours again. The happiness and love shown in the kiss and the two of you held each other close.

-

Note: ahhh lol I hope you guys like this! also yes requests are open! I write for Draco, George, Fred, Ron, Harry, Remus, and Sirius for now!

[problematicfavesareproblematic]

It’s Not About Dibs

Ron Speirs x Reader

Oh HELL yes! This is for you @teenmagazines​, hope you’re ready for a doozy! ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Talbert was a smooth son of a bitch, you had to give him that much.

You knew he was a flirt, had known it from the moment you’d met him back in Georgia. Being a nurse meant you were accustomed to feeling the lingering looks of the men you helped, it came with the territory, really. It only made sense- these men saw so few women during these years of vigorous training that the first flash of skirt was bound to catch their attention. It was natural, understandable. 

But Floyd? Floyd was absolutely shameless when it came to flirting with you. Where the traumas of war had numbed any sense of charm in most of the men who had initially tried to pursue you, Tab seemed to only grow more determined, bolder in his flirtatious quips.

Normally, you laughed and brushed it off- flirting back for fun before the two of you would inevitably be called back to your positions. It hadn’t ever gone too far, the both of you having some unspoken understanding that it was all done in good fun and that nothing was probably ever going to happen. 

Tonight, however, was a different story entirely.

Part of the reason you’d never truly given Floyd a second thought was due to the fact that it was common knowledge that Talbert would flirt with anything with a vagina and a smile, but if you were being completely honest with yourself- you knew it had more to do with your complicated infatuation with a certain Captain from Dog Company.

Ron Speirs was a….problem for you, to say the least.

He was brooding and intimidating and sharp-tongued, yes- but he was also one of the most distractingly handsome men you had ever met. And the bastard knew it, too.

From the moment Meehan had asked him to further your education in hand to hand combat, Ron Speirs had made it clear that he knew exactly how distracting he could be. Between the smug smirks he’d shoot your way and the borderline lewd take-down positions he’d work the two of you into, Ron always made sure to whisper corrections to the shell of your ear in such a way that your breath would catch almost painfully in your throat.

“Can’t leave your side open like that, pretty girl.”

“You’re gonna have to use your hips to twist out of this one.”

“You gonna get yourself into a whole world of trouble if you squirm like that, darlin’.”

It pissed you off, it turned you on.

Under his tutelage, you’d excelled-  learning how to break away from an attacker and how to strike to kill and how to use someone’s momentum against them. His praise made you preen and you’d be lying if you said that pinning him underneath didn’t you gave you some sort of proud rush.

A strange, heady familiarity had formed- one that never really went anywhere but still seemed to connect you to each other like an electric current. 

After dropping into Normandy, however, his strange charm had turned into a nearly cruel protectiveness. 

More often than not you found yourself being pushed aside and dragged away from the men you were trying to treat, overlooked when it came to picking which nurses were to take rotations on the frontlines. The few times you managed to actually get out there and do your fucking job, Ron was hovering so tensely behind you that you found yourself making mistakes or tripping over yourself. And, worst of all, he didn’t even seem to acknowledge you as a woman anymore.

If anything, you were just another mouth to feed. 

Another face he had to deal with.

The only time any of that had wavered was in the forests around Foy, when he’d had no say in the fact that you were to be Dog Company's medic.

The fail of firepower and shattering trees was nothing short of spectacular- a symphony of destruction that scared you as much as if amazed you. Never before had you felt the earth around you quake and rattle with such violent power that you truly believed it could crack open and swallow you whole.

And through the entirety of it, Ron Speirs had been there- shielding you from the onslaught of falling shards of timber and shrapnel with every inch of his body, holding your helmet onto your head as he used his body to shelter you from the destruction happening just above your heads. 

Any and all of your screams were encouraged into the meat of his chest as he held you so close you wondered if the two of you might fuse together, his grip on you refusing to let you respond to the desperate cries of “medic” until he was absolutely sure that the onslaught had ceased for the time being.

He’d kissed you for the first time during one of these barrages, when you hadn’t screamed at all and simply clung to him as if you feared he’d be torn away from you if you didn’t. Ron had shouted your name through the chaos, and when you’d turned your head to look at him he’d crushed his lips against yours with the same anxious desperation you’d been holding him with- kissing you until your head swam and all you could hear and see and taste and feel was him, him him.

Your lips had been swollen by the time it all became quiet again, your body feeling warmer than it had in weeks and panting up at him like an idiot.

When the scream for a medic rang out, he’d hungrily kissed you once more before sitting back enough to allow you to leave the foxhole, his eyes wild as he nodded for you to go.

“Be careful,” he’d commanded, chest heaving as he looked at you. “Come back when you’re done.”

That had been nearly two weeks ago, and when you had come back he’d acted as if nothing had happened. The next day, when word of relief medics had reached the encampment, he’d sent you away again.

You should’ve known nothing would change, but it still stung.

Which brought you back to Floyd Talbert.

A group of you were sitting around a table while some of the other men played cards nearby, a bottle of some gold liquid being passed around to anyone who wanted some.

Tab, lubed up and feeling confident, was whispering some sweet thing into your ear that you were just tipsy enough to blush at- something about how ‘unfair it was that’ you were so ‘beautiful and smart’ and how sad it was that he hadn’t had the chance to ‘do anything about it’.

“I’m serious, Y/N, it’s goddamn heartbreaking, knowing you’re right here and no one is making you feel as good as you deserve to feel-”

You rolled your eyes, head lolling to the side so you can squint critically at him.

“And how good do I deserve to feel, Floyd? Hm?”

His smile was pure sex, and when he wet his lips with this tongue you couldn’t help but watch with heavy-lidded eyes.

His hand is warm on your thigh, and when he brings his forehead to rest against yours you can taste the alcohol on his breath.

“Oh, Babygirl- there aren’t enough words in the world to describe what I wanna do to you…”

The finger he drags along the seam of your pants between your legs had you inhaling sharply, heat rising to your cheeks as you somehow manage not to jump at the contact.

God, when was the last time anyone had touched you there…?

In your mind’s eye, you get a flash of memory, remembering the time Ron had shown you how to wrestle your thighs around a man’s neck and pin him down. 

He’d looked so proud when you’d finally managed to do it, patting your thigh with a mumble of “that’s it, good job”

Just as your lips part to reply, a hand grabs heavily at your shoulder and you’re being pulled up from your seat bodily, snapping out of your carnal daze like you’ve been splashed with a bucket of cold water.

It takes you a moment to realize that Ron is the owner of that hand, and is currently fisting Floyd’s jacket and all but throwing him to the ground.

“Ron!”

You barely hear yourself shout his name over the sound of everyone else in the room shooting to their feet and rushing over, no one stopping the Captain but no one silently watching either.

A wave of protests and cries to take it easy floods the room, and only you are close enough to hear Ron’s venomous accusations being grit out through his teeth.

“Have you lost your goddamned mind, boy? Is this how you engage with a fellow soldier? Getting them drunk and copping a feel, huh?”

Floyd, to his credit, says nothing as Ron hovers over him face blank and hands raised submissively at his sides. What he probably shouldn’t have done, however, was let a smirk curl the corners of his full lips and shoot a wink your way.

Ron all but snarls at that, roughly letting the man go before standing up straight and turning on you.

“Let’s go,” he snaps icily. “You’re done for the night.”

You protest, backing away from him about two steps before he grabs you by the arm and is hauling you through the throng that had assembled around him and Tab and marching towards the door.

“Jesus, Ron! What’s your problem?”

He ignores you, storming the both of you out of the building you had previously been in, across the street, and pulling you behind him into the house he had usurped from a family earlier in the day.

“Ron, you’re hurting my arm, stop it!”

The grip on your bicep softens instantly, his fingers wrapping around your sleeve and dragging you by the fabric instead. 

By the time you manage to shake him off, he’s already let you go, having brought the two of you into a room that must have belonged to one of the children who’d been temporarily displaced.

You stumble a few steps before catching your footing, anger flooding your veins with a rage you hadn’t felt in quite a while.

You gape at his back as he closes the door behind him, one of his hands coming up to smooth his dark hair back into place. He’s breathing hard but so are you, and when he doesn’t turn back around to look at you you decide to take matters into your own hands.

He does seem surprised when you grab his arm and yank him around to face you, his piercing eyes going wide for just a moment before becoming cold once again.

“What in the absolute fuck is your problem?!” you screech, smacking his hand when it begins to rise and reach for you. “No, NO! Don’t fucking touch me! What the fuck? What’s the matter with you?”

His glare does nothing to intimidate you, if anything it fuels your anger.

Poking his chest with a hard jab of your finger, you step into him and let him have it.

“You have no right to manhandle me like that, you hear me? You had no right to spoil everyone’s night like that—”

“I’m your commanding officer, Y/L/N,” he spat quietly, batting your hand away with all the attention he would give a pestering fly. “You don’t get to tell me what I can and cannot do—!”

“Eugene Roe and Spina are my fucking superiors, Speirs- I’m not one of your soldiers and you don’t get to pick and chose to torment me when you feel like flexing your authority! Not with me, not with any of the medics! Only Winters can do that and you know that—!”

The look he gives you is nothing less than a blaring warning, his jaw ticking with rage.

“Get out of my face, Nurse. You forget who you’re talking to—”

You smirk. “You didn’t seem to mind my face being this close to yours a couple of weeks ago, or was that another power trip on your part?”

“Y/N, I’m warning you—”

“Why? What are you going to do? Send me away again? Get all high and mighty just because Floyd has the balls to like me and fucking do something about it and you don’t?”

His hands snap out and roughly grab your face before smashing his lips to yours so hard your teeth clink together, the kiss cruel and overpowering and so goddamn hot it nearly makes your toes curl.

Your hands shove at him, anger and lust and hurt and sadness all hitting you at once and making your head spin.

“Ron, Ron! HEY!” 

You’re able to turn your face from the kiss enough to bark at him, moving to step away only to realize he’s walked you back so you hit a wall softly. Your hands are still fisted in his shirt and his hands have moved from your face to your arms and for a few moments the two of you just stand there gasping for air and openly glaring at each other.

When you finally collect yourself enough to steady your breathing, you let your head fall back against the wall with a dull thud, wetting your lips a few times before you feel like you can actually speak.

“That’s….this isn’t fair. You don’t get to do shit like that—”

“Like what?” he interrupts, taking a step closer to you and hissing when you shove him back.

“That. you don't get to, fucking- fucking treat me like shit and then get all possessive when I’m not even, when we’re not...you don’t get to do that—!”

“He had his fucking hands all over you.” Ron’s voice is steel on stone, and it takes everything in you not to roll your eyes.

“I wanted his fucking hands on me.”

Ron frowns at that, and you frown right back.

“You made yourself pretty clear, sending me away like some nuisance after I saved your men when no one else would. If you hate me so much, why’d you kiss me in the first place—?”

He’s shaking his head before you finish speaking, “It had nothing to do with that, I don’t fucking hate you—”

You scoff. “No?”

“No, you stupid girl—”

“Don’t call me stupid, you fucking prick. I’m not the one who results to schoolyard antics when I get a crush on someone—!”

Ron barks a laugh at that. “I don’t have a crush on you.”

“No?”

“No.”

“So you wouldn’t mind if I left right now and let Floyd Talbert absolutely destroy me tonight?”

He says your name as another warning, and you can’t stop the amused expression that crosses your face as you shake your head.

“Unbelievable. You’re such a child.”

This time he has no reply, but the look he gives you is answer enough.

No, I would definitely mind.

Letting your eyes squeeze shut, you take a deep breath.

“What do you want from me, Ron?”

The hands that had been gripping your forearms falter slightly, and you hear the catch of his breath at the exhaustion in your voice.

When you open your eyes again, you see a look of confusion on his face, as if he doesn’t truly know what he wants either. Like he hadn’t gotten that far in his possessive thinking.

You both stand there for a few moments in silence, your breaths slowing and your fires smoldering into a controllable flame.

You take one of your hands from his chest to tuck some of your hair behind your ear, not realizing that your bun had come loose at some point.

Ron’s eyes follow the movement, and when you go to let your arm hang loosely by your side he takes your wrist and gently brings it back up to rest against his chest. He keeps his touch light enough that you can pull your hand away if you really wanted to.

You don’t.

When you begin to turn your head away Ron says your name again, his voice softer than you’ve ever heard it or known it could be. 

“Ron,” you reply, too tired to argue any more.

“Can I kiss you?”

The question catches you off guard, and when you meet his gaze you see a flash of anxiety in his eyes.

The same way he’d looked at you before he’d kissed you in the forest.

You take a deep breath. “Not if you’re going to treat me like crap and send me away afterward.”

He studies you for a moment before he nods minutely, eyes flickering down to your lips as he hesitantly takes a step into you again, the hand not holding yours coming up to hold your jaw.

When he kisses you this time it is sweet, his full mouth plush against yours and nothing like the way he’s kissed you before.

He does nothing untoward, allowing you to deepen the kiss in your own time and inhaling sharply once you do.

His hair is soft between your fingers, softer than it had any right to be for someone so rough.

As you tilt your head to the side he just holds you, hands framing your face as if you’re made of glass before he finally breaks away and takes a step back to catch your reaction.

“That was...different.”

He smiles briefly at your response, a warmth in his gaze only serving to make you flush deeper.

“Bad, or—?”

No, no. Not bad,” you rush to say, taking a deep breath before shooting him a nervous smile. “It was...nice.”

“I should’ve kissed you like that the first time.”

You shake your head at that. “No, I mean- I didn’t mind it, uh….before.”

His thumb brushes across your bottom lip you swallow nervously, unused to this sort of softness from him.

“I didn’t send you away because I don't think you’re a good medic. You should- I should have made that clear.... before.”

You nod quietly. “Okay.”

“You’re, you’re really good- one of the best nurses I’ve seen—”

“No need to lay it on so thick, Ron. I already know how good I am.”

When he smirks and looks down he looks like a nervous little boy in front of you, and when his cheeks pinken you let yourself smile.

It’s obvious this is new territory for him, and the fact that he’s even trying means the world to you. 

You’re still mad, still embarrassed by how wildly inappropriate his behavior was earlier, but you’re also aware of how difficult these little admissions of remorse must be for someone like him.

How difficult any sort of feelings other than rage and duty has become for all of you.

Although, you doubted he’d express any of these newfound values to anyone else.

“I don’t know how I’m going to break it to Floyd,” you mutter, winking at Ron when his head snaps up and he narrows his eyes. “Boy’s had it bad for me since we were stateside—”

“I’m sure he’ll get over it.” Ron interrupts, raising his eyebrow when you frown at his tone. “Besides, I outrank him. He wouldn’t disobey a direct order.”

You scoff at that. “I don’t think you can pull rank when calling ‘dibs’ on a girl, Ron. That’s not how ranks works.”

“Oh no?” he challenges. “Just you watch me.”

Before you can quip something back to him he gives you another long, slow kiss that effectively shuts you up.

“And, just for the record,” he says between kisses. “I don’t call ‘dibs'. If anything, I call finders keepers.”

When you pout he grins wickedly down at you.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“You’re such a child. I’m not a prize,  I’m a catch”

“Damn right you are.”

And he gets right to proving it.

~ ~ ~

WOOHOO HERE IT BY MY LOVELIES I DID A THING AND IT MAY BE CRAP BUT IT’S MY CRAP AND I’M PLEASED WITH IT FOR NOW, OKAY?! 

LOVE YOU GUYS AND THANKS FOR ALL THE LOVE LATELY, IT MEANS THE WORLD!!!

Taglist: @mrseasycompany @itswormtrain @mrsalwayswrite @happyveday​ @sunsetmando​

[amphxtrite]

sirius black x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, grammar/spelling mistakes

summary: Sirius Black meets his soulmate.

word count: 1.4k

enjoy <3

___________________________________

Every child had heard the stories of soulmates. The one person that was designed perfectly for you, and how a mark would appear on your thirteenth birthday indicating how you would meet.

Because of his upbringing, Sirius was scared of love, scared to be rejected or unwanted by that person, but once the soul mark appeared on his 13th birthday, just like in the stories, a lot of that fear melted away as he waited anxiously for his perfect match. He did feel though, that he had one of the strangest soulmate marks ever. While his friend’s marks were on their wrist, their shoulders or their arms. Sirius’s mark was on his stomach, in something of a small blob on his abdomen. It had confused him to no end since he was a kid. His younger self was happy to even have a soulmate, but how they would meet, forever remained a mystery to him.

“Pads, wake up we’ve got to get moving!” James calls out, ripping the blanket off of the dark haired boy's body. “Ah bloody hell James, what time is it?” Sirius yells back sleepily at the shock of cool air taking over him. James rolls his eyes. “It's already 8:30 Sirius, you’re going to be late!” Sirius turns to look over at the brunette and sure enough, he’s already fully dressed, “Oh shit.” Sirius mutters to himself, racing to pull on his shirt and robes. He was very grateful that he never had to show his mark often, as it hid behind his thick sweater and robes, he didn’t know to much about how you could tell someone was your soulmate and he didn’t want just anyone trying to convince him they were his match, that would be awful. Sirius rubs a bit of toothpaste on his teeth, deep in thought, before running back out and following James to breakfast, gently tapping his soulmate mark with his finger, a habit that had accumulated over the years.

“Not bad Pads you’ve still got 15 minutes to eat.” Remus jokes as Sirius sits beside him, face red and drawing deep breaths. “Can it Moony, why didn’t you wake me up earlier?” Sirius sighs bumping Remus’s shoulder lightly. “We did! You just kept murmuring for us to sod off.” Remus begins to laugh and Sirius silently turns to his breakfast, eating in comfortable silence as Peter and Remus talk about notes, while James talks with Lily. He hears a voice start to get closer.

“Emi, get back here!” He hears a girl call out, turning towards the source he looks down to see a brown and white crup puppy running towards him, moments later he sees a y/h haired girl slide onto her knees and grab the puppy gently.

“Gotcha!” you call out victoriously with a laugh, holding Emi. Your laugh turns into panic though as you continue to slide forwards, not knowing how to stop. Placing a hand up to shield your face, you slide into the boy in front of you. Sirius just registers the mark on your hand a second before you hit him, the entire table shakes. “Ow,” the both of you mutter. You felt like you’d slid right into a wall. Looking down, you inspected Emi, she smiled and yapped at you. Judging her to be alright, you look up and lock eyes with a pair of handsome dark orbs that made you feel weak. Suddenly, one of your hands felt weird, kind of tingly, the one with your soulmate mark... Quickly glancing down you notice your hand is now your natural skin tone. “No way!” you murmur. Sirius looks at you confused before feeling his own stomach tingle, he lifts his shirt up a little and notices his mark was gone too, His eyes reflected his shock, widening to the size of saucers.

You turn your gaze away from your hand “I’m uh- sorry about that.” you say casually, referencing how you’d just rammed into him. “D-don’t worry about it, I’ve just met my soulmate, I couldn’t care less.” He says grinning broadly and staring into your beautiful e/c eyes, “Soulmate.” You say, trying the word in your mouth, “I quite like that, but let’s start again, I’m y/n l/n.” Your lips turn up into a grin and you extend your hand. “Sirius Black, at your service.” He says grabbing your hand and kissing your knuckles. “Oh, what a gentleman.” You state sarcastically, but you can’t help the light blush coating your cheeks. “Only for you darling.” Sirius teases enjoying the red look on his soulmates face, although it would look better underneath- Sirius is snapped out of his thoughts by your crup puppy, using your distracted state to wriggle out of your grasp and leap into the gryffindor’s lap and place her front paws on his chest. “Well hello there Emi.” Sirius greets picking up the pup in his large hands and scratching behind her ears, smiling as her tails wagged side to side. You finally stand again and take in the scene in front of you, your soulmate, Sirius Black, smiling and your puppy licking his face affectionately.

“How’d you get the little girl? I thought we weren’t allowed to have dogs here.” Sirius asks, turning his attention back to you. “Oh, Hagrid found a whole litter of them and needed some help, so Dumbledore gave permission to a couple students to take care of them.” You replied happily.

“Padfoot what’s going on over there?” James calls out teasingly.

“Well, I’ve just met my soulmate James so I’d appreciate it if you’d shut your trap.” Sirius says annoyed.

James only smiles. “Welcome to the family miss y/n” James laughs out “Take care of our little Sirius.” You giggle at James’s comment and take a seat next to Sirius, holding Emi to your chest, feeding her little bits of dog food. Sirius feels a new warmth erupt from his chest having you next to him, and he turns to face you. “You know y/n, we may be soulmates, but I don’t know you that well yet, wanna hang out after classes today in the astronomy tower?” Sirius asks excitedly. “I’d love too, Sirius, as long as you're not secretly some serial killer or something.” you laugh jokingly. The rest of the Marauders join in laughing with you, you’re glad he has such nice friends. Sirius takes a deep breath and decides to take a chance, sliding his hand over to one of yours on the bench, and placing his pinky finger over yours. He turns over to you nonchalantly and sees a dopey grin and a pink blush on your face. He smirks proudly.

Students were starting to file out of the hall and Sirius knew his time was up, he stood up with you and handed Emi back, hearing a smile whine come from the pup’s mouth, he smiles gently and leans forward pressing a kiss to the dog’s head. “I’ll see you two lovelies after classes alright.” He says leaning back up. “Yup, see you then Siri,” you say, giving him a quick side hug, Sirius takes a deep breath of your perfume and he can definitely say he’s found his new favourite scent, a swirl of chocolate and vanilla and something he can only describe as smelling like home. He inhales again and releases you, realizing something.

“Hey wait a second, you have Charms first period too right?” Sirius suddenly remembers seeing you before. “Yeah I do, you wanna walk with me?” You ask him, extending your hand out again. Sirius smiles, takes it into his hand and kisses it again, before wrapping it in his own and heading to the East tower with you, only stopping to give Emi to Hagrid when you spotted him talking to professor McGonagall. “Thank yeh y/n, I’ll take good care of er’ until you can pick er’ up again!” Hagrid booms, you smile and wave at the professors and you pup.

You make your way into the Charms room and sit next to Sirius, pulling out your parchment and quill, you begin to tune in the lesson, Sirius on the other hand doesn’t bother listening, instead deciding to focus on more important things, like gazing at you. He doesn’t even realize you’ve noticed until he spots the familiar glow on your cheeks. Smirking again he takes one of your hands into his own and holds it against his chest. You could feel yourself melting at this and you don’t even bother with the lesson anymore, captivated by the one the universe made perfect for you, thanking whatever deity there was above for the man sitting beside you right now, gazing into your eyes and making you feel like the only girl in the world.

[marauders-aesthetic]

Here is a short one shot I wrote. I hope you guys like it ! It’s a Sirius and reader one shot when they are still in Hogwarts !

Sirius and Y/N : the stars listen

My name is Y/N, and I’m a Gryffindor 6th year. So before I start this story which is the story of me and my friend Sirius... yes Sirius as in Sirius Black, brother of Regulus Black, the famous Marauder and best friend of James Potter... that Sirius Black...

So I should begin by telling you a bit about myself. I am a Muggle born which means that when I first got my letter from Hogwarts I was ecstatic... this was the best news I had ever heard. I met Sirius on the train with James, Sirius, Remus and Peter and we became friends. I was always closer to Sirius, he was the first one to tell me about his family problems.... I remember it like it was yesterday... It was the summer holidays of our 3rd year.. I had gone home and was in the back garden reading a book Remus had recommended when I heard a noise coming from a bush... I got up and Sirius came out of it all bloody and panting for breath. I let go of everything and took him in my arms. He rested in my room and I felt a pinch. My heart was beating fast.... he was delirious from the pain. I helped him the best I could... I remember the tears and the pain he felt... I remember every word of our exchange... and what I remember the most was that ... that day ... that hot summer day .... I realised that .... I was in love with my best friend.... I felt the pain ... his pain .... I was irrevocably in love with the infamous Sirius Black.

That summer, he would come to my house and we would spend hours talking. That summer was the best summer of my life.

So now you have a bit of a back story I can start the story.

It started when Slughorn asked us to make Amortentia as he always like to do with his 6th years. I was partnered up with Lily Evans, my girl best friend and roommate. We made the potion with a little help from her old friend Severus. She wasn’t talking to him really ... and I understood why .... he had called her a Mudblood ... that word .... I had been called it a few times but Sirius would always come and defend me. I always loved that about him ... he was a pure blood but he always defended the ones who weren’t like him.

The class went on and our potion was done. Professor Slughorn came up to us to congratulate us.

⁃ well done !! Well done !! Could I ask you to tell me what you smell miss Y/L/N ?

⁃ I ... I ... mmm I smell ...lemon... pine... smoke ... something old .... a record shop .... and .... sorry ...

I stopped right there .. I was smelling Sirius’s cologne. Lily looked at me oddly....

⁃ Y/N ..

⁃ class dismissed !

I walked out as fast as I could. I loved Lily but she could sometimes be a nosy Parker.

It was the last lesson of the day so I walked to the library and took out a book.

I stayed there until dinner time. It was always quiet this time of year, because mid term exams were over. As I walked into the Great Hall I saw a my table, the Gryffindor table being the loudest as usual.

⁃ Y/N !!!!, shouted James, get over here now !!!

⁃ WHAT ????, I shouted back and laughed.

I sat down at my usual stop next to Remus and opposite Sirius who was laughing with James

⁃ what did I miss ?, I asked with a smile

⁃ Sirius’s got a new girl that’s what !!, shouted James

My smile faded away immediately but I put it back on. I couldn’t let it get to me.

⁃ oh wow ... congrats Pads !

⁃ Thanks N/N !

⁃ How come you never told me ?, I asked

⁃ Sorry N/N you were so busy with your revisions that i forgot !, he said with that grin that always made the butterflies in my stomach explode.

⁃ Well who is she come on ? Tell us !, I said trying to be the best best friend I could ever be.

So he started to tell us about her eyes, her hair... i blocked out most of what he was saying .... it was hard ... very hard ... i had never seen him talk about a girl like

this before ... i felt a pain in my chest,the same

pain ... i felt every time James would recount his best mates love adventures or how Sirius got a date with this girl or that Ravenclaw Prefect ... i got up.

⁃ Y/N ? are you ok ?, asked Remus

⁃ yeah ! sorry ! i forgot to do a homework for Binns ! i'll meet you in the common room !

I walked out really fast.. I had ran up to the astronomy tower.. the astronomy tower ... it was my sanctuary... I would go up every time I felt down or .... I sat down and let my legs dangle of the top. I looked up at the stars.. Sirius had taught me all of them... the names of the constellations... my favorite was ... of course ... Sirius ! The dog constellation !

I felt tears rolling down my cheeks... Merlin ! Don’t I look pathetic ... crying over a boy ... a boy I love ...

⁃ you know ... you should really look out and keep an ear out for strangers listening in on you !

I jumped and looked around to see non other than Remus Lupin

⁃ what do you want Remus ?, I said drying a tear away.

⁃ Well ... you know you can always talk to me ! I know the stars listen but ... maybe a friendly face might help ..

⁃ how much of it did you hear ?

⁃ Well let’s say I’m shocked no one else at school hasn’t heard your confession or your undying love for our favorite dog

⁃ You better not say anything Remus ‘

⁃ Ok ok ... chill ... but you know ... maybe you should tell him

⁃ Who ?

⁃ Y/N !

⁃ Good night Remus !

I walked down the stairs and got back to the common room. I couldn’t see Sirius... well it was probably for the best.

I walked up the stairs and got into my dorm... the girls were fast asleep as I got under the covers... I was welcomed with open by Morpheus.

As I woke up the next day, I went down to have breakfast with Marlene, who kept talking about Dorcas and her plan for their perfect date. I’m not going to lie and say I wasn’t jealous of them. They had both found each other and were perfect for one another.

So I listened to Marls and gave her advice :

⁃ you know .... Instead of buying her something why not make her a nice thing !

⁃ That’s a really good idea N/N ! Thanks !

⁃ You’re welcome !

We sat down and started to have breakfast. Dorcas joined us with Lily.

⁃ where were you last night ?, asked Lily

⁃ Oh mmmm I....

⁃ probably went looking for a dark, tall, handsome man..., said Marlene with her eyebrows going up and down.

⁃ I don’t know what you are talking about !, I said drinking my pumpkin juice trying to hide my blush.

⁃ Come on ! It’s obvious you like him !, answered Dorcas

⁃ Leave it !, I said

⁃ Guys guys guys ! If N/N doesn’t want to talk about it ! Then let’s not pressure them ...

⁃ thanks Lily !

⁃ Although.... yesterday during potions... you did describe the scent....

⁃ who described what ?, asked Sirius sitting down next to me

⁃ Nothing ! Aren’t you supposed to be at practice ?, I asked

⁃ James caught a cold and is in bed !, he said taking a sip of my juice

⁃ Oh ... is he alright ?, asked Lily

I smirked at my best friend and he nodded:

⁃ why don’t you go and see him ?, I said with a smirk

Lily went as red as her hair, Sirius and I snickered

⁃ well ... while Lily tries and understand her complex feelings ... want to come to Hogsmeade ?, asked Padfoot

⁃ Yeah sure.... I’ll get my purse, I exclaimed

⁃ Great ! Meet you at the front !

I ran up to my dorm. I got my prettiest coat and put my purse. I arrived at the front of Hogwarts out of breath to see Lily, Marlene, Dorcas, Peter, Remus.... and Sirius with his girlfriend... Eloise.... she was a Ravenclaw 5th year... she had blond hair and green eyes... she was pretty... not like me... I had to stop my staring.... really Y/N.... stop thinking about him... he’s got a girlfriend... Merlin !

⁃ ready to go ?, asked my best friend

⁃ Mmm yeah... sure ! Hey Eloise !

⁃ Hey Y/N !

The afternoon was spent watching my best friend snogging in one of the booths in the Three Broomsticks... I wanted to vomit... I had to hold the urge.... Remus was there with me the whole time... we were about to leave when Sirius came up to us.

⁃ hey ! Eloise wants to stay a bit longer ! I’ll catch up with you guys in the common room ok ?

⁃ Yeah sure ! Whatever !, I said

⁃ Y/N ! What’s wrong ?, he asked concern in his eyes

⁃ Nothing ! Don’t want to keep your girlfriend waiting !, I spit back

I walked away. When The castle was in full view, ran leaving my friends behind me. I wanted to be left alone... the boy I have loved for so long...

this was pathetic I knew it... I looked at the picture frame ... it was of me and Sirius... we were laughing at one of James’s bad jokes.

I had to put it down...I can’t watch it anymore... I can’t help it.... he’s the reason for the tear drops on my guitar... Godric now I’m quoting Taylor Swift songs...

I hadn’t realised it was time for dinner... I looked at the clock and I had missed dinner... I went downstairs hearing laughters. I watched my friends around the fire... Lily was next to James taking care of him... of course he was loving it... that crazy stag !

I saw Remus listening to Peter talking about Merlin knows what... Sirius was watching the flammes in the fireplace. I walked past them and out of the portrait. I walked to the place I loved.. you guessed it... the astronomy tower... the stars were out, the sky was clear and the moon was in a nice croissant.

⁃ why won’t you love me ? ... I’ve always been there for you ... Why !!!!! Why won’t you listen to me stars !!!!

⁃ Who are you talking to ??, asked Padfoot

I turned around quickly seeing my best friend with his hair down.. a gust of wind made his hair twirl around his gorgeous face... I couldn’t help but blush... I turned around to look at the castle grounds... I felt him come close to me.

⁃ what are you doing here all on your own... ?

⁃ I needed the air ! Why aren’t you with Eloise ?

⁃ It’s past curfew you know ?

⁃ Oh really ? I was lost in thought !!

⁃ Yeah ... talking to the stars ?

I was even more red than Lily’s hair ...

⁃ what are you talking about ?

⁃ Come on N/N ! I know you ! And I want you to know ...

⁃ what ??

I turned my head to look at him to feel his lips on mine... he had his hand on my jaw... I felt my eyes close to savour the moment. His lips tasted like fire whiskey and cigarettes... we broke appart and I looked into his grey eyes. He had a smirk on his face.

⁃ but.... I don’t understand ... what about Eloise...?

He smiled that toothy smile I loved so much...

⁃ you are really something you know ?, he whispered, I have always loved you ! N/N ! Eloise was helping me get your attention ! And I guessed it worked ... haha

I had my hands over my mouth, I felt tears starting to prickle down my eyes. I was happy...

⁃ hey hey hey ! Don’t cry beautiful !! What is it ?

⁃ I am happy ... these are happy tears ! I love you !!

I froze... I had said the “L” word before anything could happen... I messed up... I was about to leave when I felt his hand on my forearm... I looked up to see Sirius smiling and looking at me in a way I had never seen before.

⁃ I love you too dove ! I love you too !

I felt his lips back on mine and I smiled. Maybe the stars are listening. If you are thank you, thank you for making this possible.

The stars listen.

[writings-of-a-hufflepuff]

I Don’t Want to Be Alone Anymore

Fandom: Star Wars

Collection/Series: N/A 

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader (Gender Neutral - No pronouns or identifiers used to my knowledge, if i’ve missed something let me know)

Writer: @writings-of-a-hufflepuff​ aka @hufflepuffing-all-day-long​

Rating: T

Warnings: Angst, feelings of low self-worth, loneliness, but there’s some fluff to it too.

Requested by anon: Hi!! Could I please request Poe Dameron x reader with the prompts “Have you ever kissed anyone before?” + “I want you to be proud of yourself. I want you to believe that you’re good enough because you are. You’re so amazing.” + “I just want to be swept off my feet…is that so bad? I’m fed up of being alone.” 😘 Please and thank you!!!

Summary: You’ve been feeling incredibly lonely as of late, missing something in your life that seems unattainable, out of your reach. When you can’t sleep Poe finds you sitting atop the Millennium Falcon and a heart to heart is had. 

Notes: This was supposed to be a prompt, but honestly got quite large so I made it into more of a one-shot. 

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You had been rather melancholic as of late. That was the best way to describe you. Melancholic, sad, down in the dumps, just not your usual bubbly happy self. You knew that the other’s had taken notice of it, everyone was constantly trying to make you laugh, tiptoeing around subjects that could make you sadder. Your patients noticed the change in your bedside manner as well trying to cheer you up even when they were the ones in pain. In truth you just...you were lonely. 

You had so many friends and you could be on a resistance base full of people and still you felt lonely. Your whole life thus far had been overtaken by the resistance, by war, by fighting the good fight, so much so that you’d had no time for romance, for love and companionship. You were beginning to feel that yearning, that ache deep in your soul for something more. But, you doubted you were good enough for it, that you deserved it. Surely, if you’d been worthy someone would have come in and swept you off your feet by now? But, no one had and you were once again alone, alone and doubting your achievements, doubting your skills as a doctor, as a medic, as a key member of the resistance. You often wanted to kick yourself, it was all so trivial in comparison to the fight that was going on, compared to the First Order.

You’d been unable to sleep, the muggy air on Ajan Kloss, the sounds of skittering wildlife and the ache in your chest, that lonely sadness, all combined to force you out of your cot and into the night air. Tossing and turning had proved fruitless and so instead you found yourself a little perch atop the Millenium Falcon, knees pulled up to your chest, chin resting atop them. 

Ajan Kloss was beautiful as planets go, with a vibrant jungle and active wildlife, it felt like the centre of the universe sometimes. Like the place where life originated. Lately, there had been talk about what everyone would do once the war with the First Order was over, what people were fighting for. Your answers always felt lacking. You had no lover you were fighting for, no future marriage or children that you were fighting to obtain...because you were alone. It never used to be a problem, you had started out in the resistance because you believed it was the right thing to do, you still do, but you wanted more from your life than that of a lonely rebel. 

“Now what would you be doing out here on your lonesome, sweetheart? Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” You look down to see Poe standing, wide stance, knuckles on his hips, beneath you. His hair is a mess of curls, clearly the result of lying in bed for any length of time and he’s stripped down to the bare essentials. A white undershirt, a pair of comfortable trousers, the chain with his mother’s ring that he always wears around his neck. He looks beautiful in the moonlight, always does, but especially in the moonlight. 

“Couldn’t sleep, General…” Your normal teasing tone at his rank is missing and it makes Poe frown. You sound sad, you look sad. Your shoulders hunched in, your brows pulled together, lips turned down. You’ve been like this a lot lately, he’s missed your smile, the one that puts little creases around your mouth and crinkles your eyes. He’s missed your happiness. 

“Mind if I join?” Your nod is all he needs to start climbing up the Falcon to sit beside you. He sits close enough that your arms are touching, hips pressed against one another as if he can give you some semblance of happiness from his own body. It is both a relief to your touch starved soul and a torture, a reminder that you don’t actually have this, not with him, not with anyone. 

Poe isn’t your partner, your lover, your future husband. He is simply your General, your friend. No matter how handsome he is, how much you desire him, he doesn’t desire you and it stings. To your lonely mind it doesn’t matter that you’ve never said a word to him about your feelings, all that matters is that you’re alone, even with him sitting beside you. It’s hard to understand that he is there because he cares.

“So, what’s wrong? You’ve not been yourself lately…”

“I...Poe...I don’t…” You turn your head away from him, gazing off into the jungle, not wanting him to see the tears that have started to collect in your eyes. You don’t want this conversation because it’s embarrassing, embarrassing that you’re lonely, embarrassing that after all this time you’re still on your own. 

“I would say we don’t have to talk about this, but sweetheart, we have to talk about this. You’re sad all the time, I just want to help.” A gentle hand at your cheek turns your face back towards his, fingers sliding down to cup the side of your neck, thumb grazing against the curve of your jaw. Poe tightens his grip at the tears collecting in your eyes, you look utterly hopeless in that moment and it tears at his heart. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I...I’m so lonely, Poe…everyone has all these plans. How they’re going to go back home, get married, raise some kids. I just...I want that, but I know i’m not good enough. I’m so alone and it feels like that’s never going to change. I just want to be swept off my feet…is that so bad? I’m fed up of being alone. I’ve been alone my entire life and I...I just...I feel like i’m not good enough, like i’m going to be alone forever.” You had spent all your life alone, between being orphaned from a young age, working constantly to get your qualifications as a doctor and the resistance, there had never been anyone. You wanted someone, a companion, a kindred spirit, a soulmate. Someone you could curl up next to after a long day, someone you could make a family with, someone you could kiss and cuddle and love. 

It seemed out of reach. Like something not meant for you, not made for you. Why would anyone choose you when there were so many better options out there, so many other people who could provide them with more. 

There’s a silence that falls over the two of you, Poe’s thumb still stroking at your jaw as his heart breaks for you. He loves you, he’s known it since his capture by the First Order, but he’s never said a word, terrified of losing you from his life altogether. The thought that you believe you’re not good enough, that you’re not deserving of, worthy of being swept off of your feet, of love, hurts him. It cuts deep, a vibroblade straight to his heart. His lips part with a sad sigh, furrowing his brows as he frowns down at you. 

“Sweetheart, you are so worthy of love. God, I want you to be proud of yourself. I want you to believe that you’re good enough because you are. You’re amazing. You’re everything.” He’s pulling you closer, your legs thrown over his so that he can drill into you just how wonderful you are. You’re so beautiful, so kind, so good. You’ve healed his many wounds, made him laugh when he wants to cry, taken such good care of everyone around you that the thought that you’re not worthy of love is laughable. You deserve every good thing in the world. 

“Then why does no one want me? Why am I still alone?” There’s a tremble to your bottom lip, to your voice, a wetness that comes only from tears and it has Poe pressing his forehead to yours with closed eyes and deep sigh. That you think no one wants you...that you think he doesn’t want you hurts but it’s his fault, he knows he’s hidden his feelings well, kept them behind a guise of friendship and harmless flirtation. 

“Because I’m the biggest coward in the galaxy.”

“What?” You’re confused, pulling away to search his face for some sort of meaning, hand gripping his wrist, unsure, confused. He’s never been so scared in his life, it seems crazy, to be scared of telling you something as simple as how much he loves you, when he’s literally been tortured, faced life or death. But, this is scarier, this is his whole world hinged on your rejection or acceptance, but he can’t live with you not knowing, thinking that no one loves you, wants you when he absolutely does. 

“I’ve loved you since I escaped the First Order, hell, maybe I loved you before that. But, I’ve been...I was so scared of losing you as a friend that I never said anything. But, I love you, dank farrik, I love you and you’re wanted and you’re needed and that’s never been in question, sweetheart.” He wants to grab you and kiss you, show you how much feeling you inspire in him, but he knows this is a lot, he knows the chances of you never having even been kissed before are high and the thought of panicking you, pushing you, stops him.

“You...you love me? Poe…?”

“I love you and if...if you don’t feel the same that’s fine, but I can’t have you thinking that you’re not wanted because you absolutely are.” It feels like your chest might actually burst open, like your heart wants to jump from your body and into his. 

He loves you. Poe Dameron, Resistance General, flyboy, extraordinary pilot, friend, loves you. He wants you, the one man you’d never hoped would, loves you. There are still tears collecting in your eyes, but they’re a different sort, the sort that comes from overwhelming happiness. 

“I love you too” It’s sobbed out, you can’t really control the watering of your eyes or the way your voice shakes as you press your forehead back to his and cup his jaw in your hands. He’s patient though, just whispers how happy he is, how much he loves you too while you let the tears flow. 

When the tears stop coming and you’re just smiling at him, nose brushing against his own, that’s when he asks. “Have you ever kissed anyone before?” He knows the answers, deep in his soul, but it’s your information to give, your piece of yourself to share and he makes sure to dip his eyes down to your lips and bit his own just to bring that flustered expression to your face, the one that makes you look just the tiniest bit startled and excited. You are wanted. He’s never going to let you think otherwise. 

“No…” Your eyes drop down to follow the line his tongue paints across his plump bottom lip, swallow hard at the prospect that this man, this man who loves you, might want to kiss you. It is exciting and terrifying at the same time, the thought that you might be absolutely terrible at it, that you have no clue what you’re doing, but that you want to try anyway, with him. 

“Well, that’s a damn crime, sweetheart.” One corner of his mouth quirks up forcing that dimple of his back into view and while his voice is confident and almost brash, Poe’s eyes are soft, crinkling at the corners. “Will you let me kiss you?”

“Please.” Your voice is needy and high, soft as a whisper as if you’re worried speaking too loud will make him disappear. He’s not sure he could move even if the First Order came raining down on Ajan Kloss. You’ve captured him without bindings, he doesn't want to move from your orbit.

With one hand he cups the back of your neck to pull you closer, the other encasing your cheek, brushing sweet little circles across the breadth of it. He’s slow as he moves you closer, gives you time to back out, in case you need to, in case this is too much too soon, but you don’t. 

His lips are soft and careful at first, pressing against yours, closed mouthed and undemanding. His nose gently pressing against your cheek as he eases you into the sensation of another person’s lips against your own. The press of his body to yours has you gasping quietly, mouth parting and Poe takes this as an invitation, gently pressing his tongue into your mouth. It is strange at first, the sensations, but each ministration, each touch has you relaxing into him more, until your hands are tangled in the curls of his hair and you’re pressing as close to him as you can. 

Poe lets out a deep groan when you tug at the strands and he pulls away from you to take a breath of air, not going far, only so far as to put his forehead back against your own. He’s pretty sure he could kiss you until he suffocated, he’s pretty sure that would be a good way to go out.

“Can I be your boyfriend?” His fingers are gentle at the back of your neck, massaging into tender spots as he stares into your eyes. It’s all so intense and yet so comfortable at the same time, it feels like you were always meant to kiss Poe, always meant to be with him, this entire time. 

You let a little laugh at his question. The idea of you saying no after everything, after a confession of love from the both of you and the best first kiss you could have asked for, is laughable. But, still you give him an answer, cementing it as a fact. 

“Yeah...yeah, I’d like that, Poe.”

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

                                                  All Works Taglist

@charradelange​ @belfry-bat

[thoughts-on-bangtan]

What do you think of JM’s updated Spotify? I don’t normally read into things, but his song choices makes me sad. “At my worst” “I can’t be myself (excuse me while I cry) & “When was it over?” With the lyrics “was it that fight we didn’t have when I came in? Was it the first time you saw me drunk? Second time I said I’m sorry?” It sounds like a replay of Vmins dumpling incident and it worries me. JM looked off in the recent live, almost sad and pouty lately. Do you think I’m over analyzing it?

Admin 1: The short answer to this would be: yes, you are over analyzing things.

The longer one would be that, for example, Pink Sweat$'s At My Worst isn't a sad song, it's actually the exact opposite. It's a very cute and romantic song. Just look at the first verse:

Can I call you baby? Can you be my friend? Can you be my lover up until the very end? Let me show you love, oh, no pretend Stick by my side even when the world is caving in, yeah

I'd actually argue this kinda sounds like a mixture between Sweet Night and Friends when it comes to the sentiment of those words. I’ve seen some people even claim that this will replace Ed Sheeran’s romantic songs that have so far been used at every wedding ever because of how sweet it is.

Then we have Justin Bieber’s I can’t be myself which I believe you probably only looked at the title and jumped to conclusions because, again, this isn’t a sad song either. The lyrics are more about how Justin (or whoever) cannot be himself when you (I’d guess he likely means his wife) isn’t by his side, thus wanting to say that he is happiest and most himself when they are together. It’s sweet and lovely, not sad.

I could travel any place But without you, it's just runnin' around (Girl, I'm just runnin' around) They could open Heaven's gates But without you, I'm just stuck in the clouds (Yeah, yeah)

Lastly, from the songs you specifically highlighted, is Sasha Sloan’s when was it over? which yes, I’ll admit this one is a sad song about not being able to let go even though you know there is nothing left. The song though has a very calm sound, something you’d listen to in the evening, and something I could see both him and Tae like listening to, not because Jimin relates to the lyrics but because it’s simply a pretty song.

On my current playlist I have Stromae’s Formidable, a song about a heartbroken man getting wasted after a breakup. I’ve neither gotten my heart broken nor am I sad and yet I still love this song because it’s just a really good song. Sometimes that’s the only reason we need to listen to a song. Nothing more to it.

All that to say that I don’t believe there is any correlation whatsoever to be made here, especially since Tae and Jimin look more than happy in recent months (did you notice Jimin happily smiling at Tae during their most recent performance of Butter for Colbert at the beginning of their subunit dance?) and there is nothing that could indicate to us that something went wrong between them, or that Jimin could be sad or something bad going on with him. I mean, look at JKs playlist and the fact that he has Billie Eilish’s Your Power on it, applying your thought process, does that mean that JK is trying to tell us he went through something similar to Billie? That he is sad? Or do you think he simply recommended that song because he likes Billie’s music? The last one seems the most likely, doesn’t it?

So, to sum it all up, there is absolutely no need to worry, seriously.

Admin 2: In the evenings, when it's very quiet and my big city has fallen asleep, I really enjoy listening to Sweet Night. I also like to go back to 4 O'Clock from time to time (although I know I will cry). Does that mean I missed my chance in life to be with my beloved? No and no again! I've never been in a situation like this, I wasn't unhappy or "fragily" in love, no one abandoned me or cheated on me. I listen to these songs because I love them. They match the mood of the evening and calm me down despite the sad lyrics and let me fall asleep peacefully.

I am a person who listens to a lot of songs from the past; Songs that remind me of situations, remind me of years of studying, enable me to relive certain situations.

Dear Anon, thank you very much for your question (confession), but I admit that I see it as "looking for some kind of backdoor" so to speak, a way to create a loophole and deny everything after all.

I don't know who you are, I don't know if you really are a Vminnie, but I think you are clinging to any possibility of a situation to undermine the reality or existence of Vmin. That's how I see it, if I offend you, I apologize. The more we get new materials about Tae and Jimin every day, like them being cute in the McDonald's behind the scenes, the more such "sad thoughts" we get sent to us through asks every day.

Firstly, I'm not sure if Jimin (and Taehyung) is fluent enough in English to capture the accuracy of the lyrics and understand its message. Of course, you can translate it, but for that to happen first the song has to catch your attention, and usually it's the melody and the overall feeling of a song that does it, and not the lyrics. And that is the point!

I think Jimin picked these tracks because he simply likes them. Perhaps he first paid attention to the melodies and the mood and only then understood the lyrics sometime later.

A lot of people (including me) hear some kind of song instead of another because they are intrigued by the melody or the association with a particular situation. The mood that fits the moment, the weather, the time of day or many other things which lead us to choose this song and not another.

Maybe Jimin and Taehyung were driving at night and listening to the song on the radio, maybe they were in a romantic mood back then, just having dinner together or taking a half bath together. Ha ha, I know I am deceiving and romanticizing what I am saying to reflect the vast possibilities and reasons why you listen to music like this and no other. Jimin putting together this list of songs for his spotify playlist doesn't mean he listens to it all the time, every day, but that he has the songs he likes on his list and chose the ones he wants to hear right now, or that he thought ARMY could like.

Of course, I'm sure he listens to very different songs during exercising than the one lying in bed before falling asleep. Maybe he's listening to this list, just like we hear the songs from BTS? We know individual words after repeating them several times, and we generally know (as we decide to read translations) what is going on in a particular song, but we don't understand all the words accurately. Not all of us are in the same situation as described in a particular song, but still we listen to it because we like it, because BTS sings it, because we are waiting for a solo from Suga etc. etc. etc.

For some time now we have been seeing (I see) Vmin happy, even very happy, as if "after the night the day came and after the storm came peace" (by the way, these are the words of one of my favorite songs), I have the impression that Vmin have finished fighting all their fights and they are just happy now, finally. Taehyung looks like a million dollars, he's literally glowing and far more lively than he was a year ago.

To him, Jimin is like smooch like butter and someone he likes the most. Taehyung is a handsome and hot chingu for Jimin who he also likes him the most as well. Tell me dear Anon, where is there room for fear and doubt in the love they share? Why and on what basis do you suspect that Vmin has broken up, or is having problems, or that either of them is unhappy? Besides, if one of them has an off day or is simply tired after a packet schedule and thus doesn't look as animated, why is that immediately read as "Jimin and Tae aren't together anymore" or "they are drifting apart" when chances are far more likely that it has nothing to do with their bond? Based on the playlist, or based on Vlive, or maybe based on both of these events, what is the correlation?

I've seen the Vlive. To tell the truth, I didn't see a sad and pouty Jimin there. Instead, I saw Taehyung smiling and content, and Jimin smiled and admired Tae's new hairstyle. I watched the latest BTS interviews. Vmin stared at each other, Jimin stared at Tae with a big smile that only grew in size and the two communicated with their eyes.

Jimin caressed Taehyung's back/butt in the Butter MV making Episode and said there’s butter here (though it wasn’t translated in the subs).

In the McD ad they were together and standing next to each other, even with Jimin resting his head on Tae's shoulder and then Jimin eating Tae's chicken nugget from his hand.

Honestly, I don't know what else Vmin would have to do to keep people from doubting their bond and happiness. They have shown us so much, I think they have reached the limit of what can be said without saying it bluntly.

Most importantly, this is a very interesting situation as we have never had as much "dubious news/content" (not meant negatively at all) as we have now after Taehyung's interview with his ‘confession’/clarification about Sweet Night. To me it smells a bit like someone wants to cause fear or plant the seed of doubt, or be like a trojan horse with the underlying idea of course being that "well...we must be wrong" even though there’s no reason for us to believe/think that.

[ohmyasmodeus]

♥ 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 ♥

such a cute request! i was going to do only levi at first, but i couldn’t help but do the rest of the brothers because of how adorable your request is. thank you so much, and i hope this hc cheers you up extra ! ♡

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♡ 𝘭𝘶𝘤𝘪𝘧𝘦𝘳

✧   Your first kiss with Lucifer is explosive.

✧   Lucifer is hard to pin down. Constantly, infuriatingly, he seems to conveniently miss your attempts to make things official. You know that the romantic tension between the both of you could be cut with a knife, but Lucifer proves too prideful and stubborn to let you have what you want. It’s as if he’s having his fun making you chase him or deciding when you get your way.

✧   The study was quiet, the dusk fading behind the stained glass windows, and you had finally caught another moment alone with Lucifer. He takes off his gloves and smiles at you. “It’s late. You should be preparing for bed.”

“Enough,” you mutter, pressing yourself against his front. You had had enough of his games, of him thinking that he gets to decide when you make your move, as if the relationship between the both of you was nothing more than a chess game.

“Excuse me?” Lucifer asks, crimson eyes alight with amusement and a fire that you’ve never seen before. You find yourself cornered with your back against his desk, almost pinned in place by that gaze. He rests a hand on your waist almost expectantly.

“Enough of your excuses, Lucifer.” The kiss you pull him into by his collar is fiery. Immediately, both of Lucifer’s hands grip your waist to pull you close, his lips deepening the kiss with an almost frightening intensity. The facade he had put up crumbles immediately; he’s waited for this for too long, he’s wanted you for even longer. The control he clings to like a lifeline relaxes, and it almost seems as if he lets you take charge this time, as if you’ve proven yourself worthy.

And there are no more excuses from him.

♡ 𝘮𝘢𝘮𝘮𝘰𝘯

✧   Neither of you expect your first kiss with Mammon. It’s an impulsive decision, easily the best one you have ever made.

✧   Mammon doesn’t tiptoe around the issue, and it’s clear that he fully expects himself to be your man. However, it isn’t easy for him to fill the role when he thinks consciously about it, getting flustered the moment he thinks too hard about the affection you give him— it’s insanely endearing. You just wish something could give him that push to really pursue you.

✧   “Unbelievable! The way that jerk thinks he can talk to ya!” Mammon’s chattering is incessant, still obviously incensed about the way other demons had treated you earlier. Diavolo’s transfer student idea was genius, but it would take more than a couple of humans and angels to convince most demons to treat them with respect.

“Well, The Great Mammon was there to save me, at least.” You smile, wrapping your arm around his.

Mammon laughs proudly. “Damn right! Maybe you should give me a little reward for it, hm?”

“You’re the one who’s supposed to give the people he likes free money,” You poke at him, but can’t help but admire the way his eyes shine with triumph, and the way his grin is just so goofy and handsome. Thoughtlessly, you lean in until your noses nearly touch. “But I think I can do that.”

His cheeks flush red, but before he can stutter something out, he closes the distance between you with an eager smile. His lips are greedy, claiming yours as he throws an arm around your shoulders to show everyone around you just who you belong with.

♡ 𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯

✧   Your first kiss with Leviathan makes his heart nearly collapse whenever he thinks about it.

✧   There was always that barrier between you and Levi; being the embodiment of envy makes him unintentionally drive you away when you want nothing more than to show him that he is just as good as those he envies. His skittishness around topics of romance and physical affection is the sweetest thing, but you wonder if either of you would ever be brave enough to take the leap.

✧   “Look at them,” Levi laments, and you cross your arms, knowing what was about to happen. It was fairly easy to predict when he would start his pity parties, especially after the two of you had begun to grow closer. You had suggested watching something together to de-stress after a long day at RAD, but maybe the rom-com you had chosen wasn’t the best idea.

“They’re… holding hands,” you say blankly.

“Yeah! It’s not fair, he’s such a shitty nerd but the hot girl likes him anyway, it’s not realistic! That never happens in-”

You hold his hand. He goes quiet.

Levi huffs, a soft blush spreading across his face. Under the blankets, his leg starts to jiggle out of nervousness as he looks away. “Okay, now- now you’re just making fun of me. But seriously, they’re kissing! That kind of stuff doesn’t just happen to nerds.”

“Why not?” You smile at him, leaning into his side as you continue holding his hand. Sometimes you wished he could see himself like you see him, or feel the way his antics and his smile makes your heart instantly melt. Stifling a laugh, you watch as his blush grows and his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows nervously. “Some people like that.”

“But who would like a-” The rest of his complaint is muffled as you close the distance between your lips and his, throwing your arms around the back of his neck. You wouldn’t want to hear it anyway. Too stunned to fight it, Levi is still for a moment, before he starts smiling into the kiss and running a hand through your hair. He’s crushed on you for too long to let his shyness hold himself back this time.

♡ 𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘯

✧   Your first kiss with Satan is possessive and pyre-like.

✧   Satan has a thousand facades— but you see through them all. He certainly has never met someone like you, a mere human with more audacity than most demons. That audacity to touch him and get close to him is what makes you so attractive to Satan. You see him for what he is beyond his rage, and he can’t handle the thought of letting anyone get as enamoured with you as he is. He wants you to be his.

✧   You watch Satan with gentle eyes as he talks. Moments where he puts the masks away are rare but consistent when he’s with you, and you hold his hands as he talks to you about everything that’s on his mind. The smile he gives you is enough to make your heart sing.

“Ah, but I’m talking too much, aren’t I?” He gives your hands a squeeze, bringing them both up to kiss your knuckles gently.

“I like it,” you say quietly. “You aren’t like this with anyone else.”

“What can I say? There’s just something about you…” Satan chuckles, making your cheeks flush pink. He’s enamoured, charmed, devoted, so much so that he can hardly find the words to describe his feelings toward you, and your sweet blush makes him lean forward to gently grasp your chin between his fingers. “Are you… like this with anyone else, ______?”

You lean into his touch with a smile. “Only you.”

Barely a moment passes before his lips are on yours, pulling you into him like the undertow of a rough sea. Satan devotes himself to containing his emotions, his devastating wrath and desires, but with you… he allows himself to show who he truly is. And with the way you do nothing but kiss back just as hard and clutch at the front of his shirt, he knows you can handle it.

♡ 𝘢𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘦𝘶𝘴

✧   Your first kiss with Asmodeus makes your heart ache like nothing ever has.

✧   It’s all too easy to worry when you start falling for Asmodeus. With the way he acts around other demons and the succubi he’s so popular with, there’s hardly a reason to think that you would be special to him in any way. It frustrates him when he tries to prove time and time again how genuine his feelings are towards you, but you simply never seem to get the point. He wants you. He wants to be with you and can hardly bother looking at anyone else, he just wishes you could see that.

✧   “You’re always so gorgeous, you know that?” Asmo threads a gentle hand through your hair, brushing locks away from your face as you smile at him skeptically, brow cocked. It wouldn’t surprise you if he was sucking up simply because he needed your help with something.

“Alright, you can stop with the flattery. What do you want?”

Asmo giggles and wraps his arms around you. The familiar scent of his perfume and the warmth of his embrace still makes your heart race, no matter how many times you’ve told your heart to stop reacting that way every time he pulls you close. “Just you.”

“How many witches have you used that line on today?”

“If I wanted a witch,” You feel Asmodeus kiss your head and rub your back tenderly, and all you can do is gaze up at him through your lashes as his voice softens, his bright amber eyes giving you such a deeply yearning gaze. “I would go to one. I want you, ______, is that so hard to believe? I don’t want to look at or touch anyone else anymore.”

When he leans in, you don’t have it in you to resist. His soft lips fit perfectly against yours, as if the two of you were meant to be from the beginning, and your heart aches.

♡ 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘻𝘦𝘣𝘶𝘣

✧   It feels like it was just meant to be; your first kiss with Beelzebub feels as natural as breathing.

✧   Beelzebub has always been the brother you felt the most comfortable around, and the two of you seem to just fall into a routine as you get closer. You don’t need him to say the unspoken feelings between the both of you to know how much he cares for you. Beel says it enough in the way he always wraps an arm around your shoulders, or gives you a slice of his favourite cake during dinner, or lets you lean on him during movie night.

✧   “______… It needs more sugar,” Beel mumbles as he licks some cookie batter off his finger. You had enlisted his help with baking since Luke had shared an easy recipe for the human world cookies you were craving, but you’re beginning to think it had been a mistake.

But you’re weak, and it’s all worth it to be able to watch Beel adorably taste the batter whenever he can.

“You’re going to get a tummy ache.” Smiling, you come over to take the mixing bowl from him.

“No way,” Beel mumbles. He pats his stomach with the sweetest smile. “Iron stomach.”

“It didn’t save you when you ate Solomon’s cooking, did it?” You can’t help but tiptoe to ruffle his hair, before offering him a bottle of cocoa powder and a silver sieve. “Wanna help me with the cocoa? And then we’re all done!”

“Of course. Anything for you.” Beel takes the items and leans down, and before you can think about it, you lean up to give him a sweet kiss in thanks for his help. Beel hesitates in pulling away for a moment, only to return to leaning down to give you kiss after kiss, and you can’t help but let out a giggle. Maybe he’s finally found something other than food to be obsessed with.

♡ 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘳

✧   The way Belphegor first kisses you is magnetic, the slow kind of kiss that makes time slow and your mind drift. As far as you’re concerned, the world around you might as well not exist.

✧   There is hardly a spark between you. Belphegor’s feelings for you start as a slow burning candle flame that ends in a wildfire. The both of you give yourselves time to heal and time to understand each other. You spend your days apart before you drift back to each other, until it’s hard for the both of you to contain your feelings. Belphie’s feelings for you consume him, and he struggles to find the right time to reveal them to you.

✧   You throw your leg over Belphie’s hip with a sleepy smile as you snuggle into the sheets with him. He returns the smile in an equally sleepy but adoring fashion, fingers slowly tracing patterns into your back.

“Clingy,” he mumbles, as if he isn’t the one with his arms wrapped firmly around you.

You mumble, “You’re so warm, I can’t help it. Maybe I should just stay like this forever.”

“Fine by me, ______.” Belphie chuckles teasingly. “Just know that I’m never ever going to let you get up again.”

“Yeah? I think that sounds like heaven.” Your joke makes Belphie laugh, and in the quietness of his room, he leans in to press a gentle kiss to your lips. It starts as an innocent brush of his lips against yours, but you’re quick to press your lips against his firmly. The way his legs tangle into yours and the way he kisses you like you’re the only thing keeping him breathing makes you forget the world around you. Belphie keeps you like that, refusing to let you go.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧