#him writing love letters instead of thanking in two sentences

[joons-dimple]

BAEKHYUN 💌

What I wish to say is, thank you for being with me! Eris in my heart, and me in Eris' hearts! I think we've always been together ever since the moment we placed each other into our (own) hearts! You forget about people that passes by in a few seconds or minutes, but to sleep, wake up and still vividly remember each other- isn't that testament we're in each other's hearts..?

[once-upon-an-imagine]

Dear Prudence - Remus Lupin

A/N: well, again this keeps on working so… I hope you guys like it!

Request - Anonymous asked: Could I request a one-shot with hufflepuff potter!reader x Remus where James is favored by their parents for being in Gryffindor and on the quidditch team and being a golden child, and the reader is very kind and close to James but used to being ignored. Remus woos her and James is protective when he first finds out but comes around. Also short!reader please, I love Remus being a gentle giant

Warnings: James is favored by his parents over the reader, but they are not mean or anything, and I think that's it :)

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

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

Dear Prudence

Dear Prudence, won't you come out to play? Dear Prudence, greet the brand new day The sun is up, the sky is blue It's beautiful and so are you

The first thing Remus noticed, were the letters.

“Hey, sunshine” Remus smiled when he spotted you as he entered the Great Hall.

“Hi moonshine” you smiled back at him.

“You know that’s not what you think it is, right?”

“Yes, it is. I am the sun and you are the moon” you insisted as he rolled his eyes a little.

“Whatever you say, love” he chuckled as the two of you reached the other three Marauders sitting at the Gryffindor table.

“Hey Jamie, I think our envelopes got mixed up” you said, walking over to your brother.

“Hey, bug” he smiled at you. “How do you know?” he asked, grabbing the envelope in front of him. “This one says my name” he said, confused as Remus sat down next to your brother.

“Yeah, this one also says James. F. Potter” you said, showing it to him. “But it feels a lot more pages than mine and it has those golden star stickers mum always puts on yours, Goldie” you smirked, mocking him and switching the letters.

“Oh, Goldie! I love that, I am calling you that from now on!” Sirius laughed.

“Shut up, Padfoot!” James said, hitting his arm as you opened the letter James had and saw your name inside.

“Yep, this one’s mine” you told him, taking out the single page.

“Would you like to sit down with us?” Remus offered, smiling brightly at you. So, of course, you couldn’t refuse.

“Why thank you, Remus, that is very kind of you” you said sitting between him and James, hitting your brother’s arm in the process.

“Hey! What did I do?” he asked, with his mouth half-full.

“That’s where you got that from?” Sirius asked, glaring at you a little as James opened his envelope and Remus caught at least four pages coming out of it. He didn’t want to obviously point that out, so he asked something different instead.

“How come both envelopes were addressed to James?” he asked, making you look up at him and you answered before James could.

“Mum writes to him so much, she made the envelopes, especially for him” you smirked, pinching his cheek and your brother quickly snapped your hand away.

“That’s not true!” he argued, with a hint of blush on his cheeks.

“Isn’t it? She writes to you at least twice a week” you mocked him. “I bet nobody else in the entire school comes close to how many letters you get” you told him.

“She writes to you too!”

“Yeah, every other week” you said, rolling your eyes and going back to your letter. “And even then she always asks about you” you said, showing it to him.

“That’s not true!”

“Wanna bet?”

“Fine! Five Galleons” James smirked proudly. You quickly went back to your letter, quickly spotting James�� name.

“Ah-ha! Here we are” you smirked back at him. “‘Make sure to take care of Jamie and give him a big kiss and hug for me’” you said, pointing the sentence at the bottom of your letter as James blushed furiously. “Aw, c’mere, Jamie, gimmie a kiss” you said, throwing your arms around his shoulders and peppering his cheek with kisses while the other three Marauders laughed.

“Ugh, get off me, you annoying bug!” he said pushing you away and making you crash into Remus, who quickly wrapped his arms around your waist so you wouldn’t fall.

“S-sorry, Rem” you said, feeling your cheeks burn as he helped you up.

“No problem, love” he smiled. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah” you chuckled.

“Well, you two are simply the sweetest thing in the world” you heard Sirius from across the table.

“Shut up, Sirius!”

“Shut up, Padfoot!”

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

The second thing Remus noticed, were the family dinners.

During Christmas break, it was not surprising at all that the entire group of Marauders were residing at the Potters’ house. This year, Mrs. Potter had even got each of them a stocking, which he later found out had been your request, and Remus felt happier than he had in years. Since his mum passed away, he and his father never really liked celebrating Christmas anymore, so the feeling of this home made him warm inside and he loved it. And he especially loved spending more time with you, even if you were locked in your room most of the time.

“James, darling, where is your sister? Dinner is almost ready” he looked up from his book when Mrs. Potter came into the living room.

“Probably locked in her room” James shrugged.

“Well, could you go get her, please love?”

“Just a second, mum, I’m about to beat Padfoot” James smirked as they played Chess.

“I can go” Remus offered, marking the page on his book and getting up.

“Thank you so much, Remus. It is lovely to have actual help around here” she said, before messing James’ hair as he complained to his mother.

Remus chuckled and went upstairs to your room. He had realized this was probably the only room in your entire house he had never seen, aside from your parents’ room. He suddenly found himself feeling extremely curious to see how your room was. And why you insisted on spending so much time on it. He gently knocked on your door but he didn’t receive any response. It didn’t come as a surprise since he could hear the music blasting from the other side. He smiled when he recognized the song. It had become kind of your thing. He knew you loved muggle music and he loved introducing you to it.

Wouldn't it be nice if we were older? Then we wouldn't have to wait so long And wouldn't it be nice to live together? In the kind of world where we belong?

His smile grew wider when he heard your voice on top of the original song and he tried to knock harder but still, no response. So, he carefully opened the door. Whatever Remus had in mind about your room (which he may or may not think about more than he would like to admit) he never pictured this. Your room was as big as James’ if not a bit bigger, but you had a lot more windows and a lot more colors, by far. James’ room was decorated with Gryffindor colors and Quidditch teams he loved. But yours? Yours had paintings everywhere. Every wall. Top to bottom. Even some parts of your ceiling. How did you ever get to paint that high? He may never know. You were currently painting the side of your window with colorful flowers. Peonies. Your favorite.

You know it's gonna make it that much better When we can say goodnight and stay together

Wouldn't it be nice if we could wake up In the morning when the day is new? And after having spent the day together Hold each other close the whole night through

“Um, sunshine?”

“Remus° you turned to him, smiling brightly. Remus had never seen you so beautiful. You had possibly every single color in your pallet all over your face, your clothes, and your hands. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you” you said, walking over to your record player and making the song stop.

“Yeah, I figured as much” he chuckled. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, I get really bored of my walls every now and then, and I start all over again” you explained. “I was in a very flowery mood” you said, pointing at your latest painting.

“That’s beautiful” he told you. “Did you paint all of the rooms in your house?”

“Yes, except Jamie’s” you explained. “He said I’m just going to ruin his Quidditch posters” you said, rolling your eyes. “But I did the guest rooms” you said, smiling. “Yours was inspired by ‘The Little Prince’” you informed him.

“I could tell” he smiled. “My favorite book when I was a kid” he added.

“I remember you telling me that” you smiled back.

“Do you know that program on our last year for magical paintings? You should really apply for next year” he suggested.

“You really think so?” you smiled and he nodded. “I have… actually been thinking about it” you informed him.

“You should” he smiled.

“I might” you smirked.

“Um, your mum says dinner’s almost ready” he informed you.

“Oh, really? I must have lost track of time” you said, walking into your room to wash your hands.

“I’m glad you liked your Christmas present” he said, shyly, looking at the Beach Boys’ record that was playing not long ago.

“I love it” you said, coming back out. “Did you like yours?”

“I’m halfway done” he said, remembering the book he was just reading downstairs.

“Already?”

“I can’t put it down” he smiled as you got closer to him.

“I’m glad you liked it” you smiled, making him chuckle when he saw you still had paint on your face.

“Um, you still have some-” he said, pointing at his left cheek. “Here” he said, grabbing the towel from your hand and carefully cleaning it up.

“Thanks, moonshine” you smiled.

“Hey, Mrs. Potter said-” Sirius came bursting into your room, smirking at the scene in front of him. “Am I interrupting something?” he asked, as the two of you jumped apart. You saw Remus’ cheeks blushing and you felt yours burning a little.

“N-no-”

“We were just- um- on our way” Remus quickly said, before he left the room. You nodded, grabbing one of your books, and were about to follow him, but Sirius blocked your way.

“You know, you should just tell him already, Bambi” he said. “We both know he’s too shy to make the first move, plus he thinks your brother is gonna kill him” he said.

“Mhm, or maybe, he just doesn’t feel the same way about me” you insisted. “And you promised you wouldn’t say anything!” you glared at him.

“I haven’t!” he said, offended. “And you have to be joking, right, have you really not seen the way he looks at you with his goofy smile, sunshine” he said, mocking Remus’ voice and making you punch him in his arm. “Ouch! Would you stop that?”

“It’s not my fault. You moved here and decided to become my other annoying brother, so you have to pay the consequences” you smirked before you left your room and Sirius rolled his eyes, following you.

“Why did you bring your book?” Remus asked, confused when you sat down next to him and placed your book on the table.

“Well, it kinda gets boring when the conversation turns to Quidditch” you informed him.

He frowned a little confused, but quickly understood what you meant. Throughout the entire dinner, your parents had revolved the entire conversation about James. They first asked how school was, to which all of you replied, he and the rest of the Marauders included. Followed by if you were dating someone. And then, Quidditch. Remus realized you hadn’t even spoken for about forty-five minutes. Your parents even asked Sirius, Peter, and him some questions, but not you. He turned to look at you and saw you immersed in your book. He slowly smiled and then felt a kick in his leg. He turned to glare at Sirius sitting in front of him who was smirking and nodded his head towards you.

“What’s your book about?” he asked. It took you a moment to register that someone was actually talking to you before you lifted your head and turned to look at Remus.

“Oh, um-” you smiled shyly. “It’s a romance novel, I wouldn’t want to bore you” you chuckled.

“You wouldn’t bore me, sunshine” he insisted. When you smiled brightly at him, it gave him the courage to hold your hand in his underneath the table as you started talking about the plot of the book you were reading. He absolutely loved the way your face brightened when you talked about something you liked and that you had his full attention. He could not deny it any longer, he was definitely in love with you.

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

The third thing Remus noticed, was the birthday presents.

“Hi Rem” you smiled, opening your dorm. “What are you doing here?”

“Me? What are you doing here? You left your own birthday party” he chuckled.

“Well, you know I don’t like parties” you chuckled. “James makes a whole fuss about our birthdays but it’s mostly for him” you insisted. “I bet nobody even noticed I left” you said.

“I did” he said, making your cheeks burn a little.

“Um… would you like to come in?” you asked, opening the door. “I’m watching an old movie that Alice lent me” you smiled. “I got pastries from the Kitchens” you said, making him smile.

“How could I say no to that?” he asked, following you inside. “I also wanted to give you your present” he said, making you look back at him.

“You got me a present? Remus, you didn’t have to get me anything” you smiled.

“Yes, I did. It’s your birthday” he said, as if it was obvious. “I’m sure you got so many presents already, but one more couldn’t hurt” he said, shyly.

“Not much” you shrugged. “Jamie gave me my badger slippers” you said, showing them to him. “And I gave him lion ones” you giggled. “Sirius gave me chocolate, oh, Alice gave me new paints” you said, pointing at them excitedly. “And Lily gave me a new perfume” you smiled.

“Oh” he frowned, confused. “What about your parents?”

“Oh, my dad sent me this book” you said, showing him a familiar book, he knew you had already talked with him about. “I mentioned to him it was my favorite so he got me one” you explained. “I don’t really have it in my heart to tell him I already have it” you chuckled.

“And your mom?” he asked, extremely confused. He counted at least twenty presents for James from your parents.

“My mum usually gives me some of her jewelry she knows I love, but she doesn’t like to send it through mail so she gives it to me when I come home for the summer” you explained.

“Oh… is… that it?” he asked, without really thinking.

“What do you mean?” you asked, confused.

“Nothing. Sorry, I didn’t mean anything I just- um- I don’t want to cross a line or anything it’s just-”

“Let me guess, Jamie got about thirty presents from my parents” you smiled sadly.

“Yeah” he said, awkwardly. “Look, you know I love your parents. They are some of the kindest people I’ve met, and I know I don’t have any siblings but… I just don’t think it’s fair that they favor James over you” he said, sadly.

“Look, it’s fine. I know my parents love me” you smiled. “Just… probably not as much as James” you chuckled. “I’ve actually learned it’s not the worst thing. I get zero pressure from them. Last year, I was really worried because I didn’t do well on one of my Herbology tests-”

“Because everything you touch dies?” Remus smirked, earning a glare from you.

“As I was saying… I was going to tell them when we came home for the Holidays, but they were so upset that James had lost the last Quidditch match, that they didn’t even say anything to me” you shrugged. “I can literally do anything I want whenever I want and they won’t really mind. I mean, I’m pretty sure I can even date whomever I want but the day James gets a serious girlfriend, my mum may actually die” you told Remus, making him laugh a little. “It used to bother me a lot, but… they do show me that they love me in different ways” you explained. “But I think it’s really sweet you care about that” you smiled at him.

“Well, of course I do. You’re my favorite person in the world” he blurted out.

“I am?” you asked, feeling your heart flutter.

“Of course you are” he smiled.

“I think… you’re the first person in my life that has liked me more than James” you said, feeling a few tears in your eyes. “Sorry, that’s stupid-”

“It’s not” he assured you, pulling you closer and wiping away your tears. “And I really mean it” he smiled. “Happy birthday, sunshine” he said, giving you his present.

“Moonshine” you smiled, opening it. “Remus” you said, feeling your eyes welling up. “Is this-?”

“Yes” he smiled, grabbing The Beatles’ record from you and putting it on your record player. “I know this is your favorite song and it’s also mine because it reminds me of you” he said as the guitar started playing. “Would you like to dance with me?”

“Really?” you asked, excitedly.

“Only because it’s your birthday” he said as you grabbed his hand and walked to the middle of your dorm.

Dear Prudence, won't you come out to play? Dear Prudence, greet the brand new day The sun is up, the sky is blueIt's beautiful, and so are you Dear Prudence, won't you come out to play?

“Why does this song remind you of me?” you asked curiously.

“Well, I read that the song was written about Prudence Farrow-”

“Who is Mia Farrow’s less famous little sister? Wow, Remus-”

“No, that’s not why” he glared a little at you. “I mean she is but, that’s not why” he insisted.

“So?”

Dear Prudence, open up your eyes Dear Prudence, see the sunny skies The wind is low, the birds will sing That you are part of everything Dear Prudence, won't you open up your eyes?

“Did you apply to the art program” he asked, making you smile at him.

“You remembered that?”

“Of course, I do” he frowned. “I remember everything you tell me” he insisted.

“Well… I did” you told him. “I should be hearing about it during summer” you informed him.

“I’m sure you’ll get in, sunshine” he said, kissing your forehead.

Look around, around (round, round, round) Look around, around, around (round, round) Look around

“Well, it was written because she would rarely come out of her bungalow while she meditated. It’s kind of like you and your paintings” he smiled.

“I’m not that bad” you scoffed offended.

“Love, I had to come up three times a day every day on Christmas break so you wouldn’t forget to eat” he reminded you.

“Oh, and here I was thinking you came to get me because you missed me” you pouted.

“That too” he assured you.

Dear Prudence, let me see you smile Dear Prudence, like a little child The clouds will be a daisy chain So let me see you smile again Dear Prudence, won't you let me see you smile?

“I really love this song” you smiled. “And my birthday gift” you added. “And um-” you said, feeling your cheeks burn as you looked away. “C-can I tell you something?” you asked, nervously.

“You can tell me anything, love” he assured you.

“O-okay, you don’t have to say anything and… if it’s weird you can just leave and not talk to me ever again, and… it’s not just because you said you liked me more than James b-but it’s been something that I have felt for a while and I just-”

“Sunshine” he said, cupping your cheek and making you stop your ramble. “I love you too” he smiled, making your entire body feel like you were on cloud nine.

“Y-you do?” you asked, still not believing him.

“I really do” he said, leaning in to kiss you.

Dear Prudence, won't you come out to play? Dear Prudence, greet the brand new day The sun is up, the sky is blue It's beautiful, and so are you Dear Prudence, won't you come out to play?

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

“Yeah, go get settled, Moony! We’ll wait for you outside” James said as Remus walked upstairs to put his things away. After tossing everything in there really, he quickly found himself in front of your door again. James had invited him to stay over the summer and it had been two weeks without you. Two weeks too long. He smiled as the music blasted on the other side of the door, only this time, he opened it and walked in.

My, my, I tried to hold you back, But you were stronger Oh, yeah, and now it seems My only chance is giving up the fight

And how could I ever refuse? I feel like I win when I lose

Waterloo, I was defeated, you won the war Waterloo, promise to love you for ever more Waterloo, couldn't escape if I wanted to Waterloo, knowing my fate is to be with you

Wa-Wa-Wa-Wa-Waterloo Finally facing my Waterloo

Remus smiled to himself before he walked over to you, pulling your paintbrush away from your hand and making you turn around frowning, but you quickly smiled when you saw it was him.

“Moonshine!” you smiled, throwing your arms around his shoulders and he quickly wrapped his around your waist, twirling you around and planting a big kiss on your lips.

“Hey, sunshine” he smiled when you pulled away. “I missed you” he said, giving you another peck on the lips.

“I missed you too” you smiled, pulling him closer. “How has your summer been?”

“Pretty boring, to be honest” he chuckled. “I see you kept yourself busy” he said, twirling your paintbrush in his hand. “Prongs and Padfoot said you played Quidditch with them yesterday” he chuckled.

“Yeah, they made me” you rolled your eyes.

“Have you… told your brother about us?”

“No” you pouted. “You said we would tell him together” you reminded him. “You know it’s gonna be fine, right?”

“Yeah, I know. Sirius just keeps insisting he will kill me” he laughed nervously.

“I won’t let that happen” you said, kissing his cheek. “I promise” you smiled sweetly.

“So, what are you painting?”

“Oh! I’ve been waiting to tell you” you said, excitedly. “I got into the art program!”

“You did? Love, that’s amazing! I knew you could do it!” he said, hugging you again and giving you a small kiss. “I’m so proud of you!”

“Thanks, Remmy” you smiled. “You’re the first person I’ve told” you smiled.

“I am? Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“Oh, well, I actually told my parents when we got here, but James won the Quidditch Cup and there are… about ten Quidditch teams wanting to recruit him so… I don’t think they heard me or even knew what I was talking about” you said, smiling sadly. “Sirius said it sounded cool, though” you told him.

“I’m sorry, love” he said, pulling you closer.

“It’s okay. You’re the one I really wanted to tell” you smiled, leaning in to kiss him again. “And, I have to finish this painting” you said, trying to get the brush from him but he put it out of his reach. “Rem!”

“I just got here, love” he pouted. “Wouldn’t you rather spend the day with your boyfriend who missed you so much?”

“Well, yes, that’s why I wanted to finish it before you got here” you insisted. “But James and Sirius kept insisting that I played Quidditch with them yesterday and I didn’t get to paint” you told him but he still placed the brush out of your reach when you tried to grab it. “Remus!”

“Well, you can continue tomorrow” he said, pulling you to him. “I have been waiting for two whole weeks to kiss my beautiful girlfriend” he said between kisses, feeling your smile against his lips.

“Okay, I can continue tomorrow” you said, as he threw the brush on your table and deepened the kiss. “I missed you so much” you said, pulling him closer.

“I missed you too, love” he smiled.

"Hey bug, have you seen Moony-? BLOODY HELL! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!?" James yelled coming inside your room and covering his eyes at the scene in front of him. Remus instantly jumped off you so quickly he fell to the floor as Sirius came in running behind James when they heard the yelling.

"Why are you yell-? oh bloody hell!" he smirked when he saw Remus standing up and saw that both of seemed very nervous.

"I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!" James yelled to Remus and started running after him with his wand pointing at his neck but you stepped in between.

"Jamie, stop!"

"Get out of the way bug!" your brother’s voice was dangerously low.

"Prongs, calm down" Remus said trying not to show how nervous he really was.

"Calm down?!" James snapped. "That's MY sister!"

"Jamie, please, calm down!" you said also a little nervous.

"YOU SHUT UP!"

"Don't yell at her!" Remus snapped.

"Mate, I would shut up if I were you" Sirius told him.

"ALL OF YOU, SHUT UP!" you yelled at all of them.

“I’m going to kill you!” James yelled at Remus before he started chasing him around your room. Remus quickly ran out with James following him.

“I told you, he would find out sooner or later” Sirius smirked.

“You are of no use to me right now, SIrius!” you said, punching his arm as you followed your brother and your boyfriend. Sirius quickly walking behind you.

“James, what is going on? What’s with all the yelling?” you saw your mother and father come inside the living room where James was still chasing Remus and throwing jinxes at him.

“Stop it!” you yelled running over to your brother and grabbing his arm.

“Get off me!” he complained as Remus ran over to Sirius, hiding behind him.

“You’re being ridiculous!” you said, trying to reach for his wand but he placed it out of your reach. However, you clung yourself to him, trying your best to get it.

“What in Merlin’s name are you two kids doing?” your father asked, confused. It was rare to see the two of you fight like this nowadays.

“Let go!” he said, as your hand reached for his wand.

“You let go!” you complained.

“It’s my wand!”

“Gimmie it!”

“Alright, stop it! Both of you!” your mother’s voice was heard through the room as she pointed her wand at the two of you, separating you, and making James’ wand fly into her hand.

“He started it!”

“She started it!”

“I don’t care who started it! I want to know what’s going on and I want to know now!” your mother said, with her hands on her waist.

“Why don’t you ask your daughter how she betrayed me!” James said, glaring at you.

“Oh, please! Grow up, James! You’re being ridiculous!”

“That’s enough!” your father intervened. “Your mother asked you a question. What is wrong with the two of you?”

“She stole my best friend!” James said, pointing at you accusingly.

“What? I did no such thing!”

“And I thought I was your best friend” Sirius added, offended while Remus rolled his eyes.

“James, sweetheart what are you talking about?” your mother asked, confused.

“Well, mum, I just found your daughter, my so-called sister” he said glaring at you as you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms in front of your chest. “Kissing my best friend!”

“James!”

“Excuse me?” your father said, a bit upset, throwing daggers at the two boys behind your mother.

“Fleamont, darling, calm down” she said, to her husband before turning to you. “Sweetheart, would you care to explain yourself?” your mother asked you, calmly.

“First of all, Jamie is making it a bigger deal than it is” you complained.

“No, I’m not!”

“Yes, you are!”

“Were you or were you not just kissing Moony upstairs?”

“What?” your father asked again, but your mother stopped him.

“Well?” James asked, arching his eyebrow at you.

“I… was… kissing… my… boyfriend” you said, feeling your cheeks burning.

“Excuse me?” your father asked, baffled.

“Boyfriend?” James asked.

“Remus is your boyfriend?” your mother asked, excitedly.

“You can’t have a boyfriend! You’re too young!” your dad complained.

“And it can’t be my best friend!” James added.

“Hurtful, Prongs. Really hurtful” Sirius glared at him.

“Oh, hush, all of you” your mother said, rolling her eyes. “Fleamont, you and I were their age when we started dating” she reminded your father. “And James, you should be happy that your sister is with one of your best friends. Remus is a wonderful guy” she smiled at Remus who felt just a little less nervous.

“Thanks, Mrs. Potter” he said, blushing a little.

“I’m so happy for you two. Sweetheart, why didn’t you tell us?” she asked you.

“Well, I didn’t really know how to because I knew James would throw a fit about it” you said, rolling your eyes.

“I did not throw a fit-”

“James, that’s enough” your mother told him. “Leave your sister alone” she scowled.

“But mum-”

“But nothing. She’s happy and so is Remus and we are all happy for them and that’s it” she insisted.

“I don’t even get a say in it?”

“No, why would you get a say in your sister’s love life?”

“At least she has a love life” Sirius laughed.

“Hey!” James complained.

“Good one, son” your dad laughed with Sirius.

“What is happening?” James asked, upset before he started going upstairs. “I do not like this one bit!” you heard before he slammed his door.

“Don’t listen to him, sweet pea” your dad said, smiling kindly at you. “We are happy for you” he admitted, kissing your head. “But Remus is not allowed in your room and you are not allowed in his, or the two of you alone in a room, understood?” he frowned.

“Yes, dad” you smiled.

“Yes, sir” Remus replied at the same time.

“Good” he smirked proudly.

“I’m so happy for you, sweetheart” your mother said, hugging you.

“Thanks, mum” you smiled.

“You too, Remus” she said, kissing his cheek.

“Thank you, Mrs. Potter” he smiled before she left with your dad.

“I’d like to say that went well” Sirius smirked as you sat with Remus on the sofa and he kissed your forehead while Sirius sat on the chair.

“To be honest, that’s the best I could have asked for” Remus chuckled.

“It felt weird to have so much attention on me” you admitted as Remus kissed your cheek.

“Alright” you heard James’ voice coming down the stairs again. “I have decided that I approve this” he said in a serious tone, sitting closer to Sirius.

“You do know we don’t need your approval, right?” you said, glaring a little at him.

“But there will be no kissing in front of me” he glared at the two of you. “That’s just gross!”

“Fair enough, Prongs” Remus chuckled, kissing the side of your head.

“I just want to say that I am still hurt about your comments made earlier” Sirius said, sounding offended.

“You knew about them the entire time, didn’t you?” James glared at him.

“And I forgive you because that’s what best friends do, Prongsie” he smiled innocently.

“Fine, I forgive you too” James said, rolling his eyes as Sirius hugged him, kissing his cheek. “Get off, you goof!”

“This is going to be a long summer, isn’t it?” Remus asked you.

“Yes, I am so happy you’re here” you smiled, giving him a peck on the lips.

“Hey! What did I just say!?”

“Shut up, Jamie!”

The End

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

Songs: Wouldn't It Be Nice - The Beach Boys Dear Prudence - The Beatles Waterloo - ABBA

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

[runnning-outof-time]

Omggg congrats on 3.5k!! That’s incredible! Duuuude this short prompt blurb challenge is gonna blow up! For me, would you be open to doing one with Tommy, using the prompt sentence, “Look at me right now”? He sure can be demanding when he wants something lolol🥰🥵again, congratulations dear! You deserve all the love!

Oh thank you so much for sending this in @tragiclotus ! You’re so right - he really can be! I hope you like what I did with this, and that you’ve been enjoying the blurbs I’ve been sharing! Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Part of my 3.5k celebration — find more stories here!

No One But You

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: self-doubt, worry of past lovers returning…nothing too major

Word Count: 1018

Summary: Tommy assures (Y/N) that she’s the only woman he wants after two women from his past reappear in his life.

She must’ve read the return address a dozen times. Why? She didn’t know. It wasn’t like reading it again was going to make the sender’s name change. But yet she did anyway.

(Y/N) knew who Grace was. She’d heard about her; knew what she’d done to Tommy and his family. So why the hell was she sending him letters now?

At first she spoke to Polly, who told her to hide them. As a clerk at the postmaster’s office, she’d make sure to bring any mail the Shelbys received with her whenever she’d come to visit her boyfriend. When she’d arrive at Watery Lane, she’d follow the older woman’s suggestion and promptly slip the envelope into one of the side table’s drawers; hoping that Tommy wouldn’t find them there. But they just kept coming.

And now as she was walking to Watery Lane with what was the fifth letter Grace had sent, she didn’t know if she could keep up with hiding them. So instead she kept it in her hands, re-reading it until she heard the door open.

She stood to her feet at the sound and walked over to greet her boyfriend, accepting his kiss and shoulder squeeze as a greeting. Tommy knew something was wrong the second he pulled away. (Y/N) wasn’t wearing her usual, welcoming smile. Instead, her expression was blank.

“Has something happened?” he asked her, his brows furrowing together.

“This came in to the post today,” she answered him, extending her hand to hold the envelope out between them.

Tommy’s brows furrowed deeper as he scanned over the words written on the envelope.

“Why does she keep writing you?” (Y/N) couldn’t stop herself from asking, desperate to know why he was still receiving letters from her.

She and Tommy had entered a relationship only five months ago, but she was no stranger to the life that he lived and the company he’d kept in the past. Tommy Shelby was sought after by many, and somehow she’d gotten lucky…or at least that’s what she kept telling herself. No matter how many times his actions reassured her that he was hers alone, that nagging seed of doubt still crept into her mind. Like it was doing now.

“I don’t know why,” he answered with a shake of his head, “I haven’t spoken to her since she left for New York.”

“She’s written to you five times,” (Y/N) couldn’t withhold the information any longer. Tommy’s brows furrowed again upon hearing her admission, so she decided to elaborate: “Polly said that I shouldn’t give them to you; that I should hide them instead. They’re in the side table. I don’t know why I listened to her. I just…I couldn’t bring myself to give them to you.”

Tommy looked down at the letter and back to (Y/N), seeing that she was now biting on her lip, a nervous tendency of hers that he’d noticed fairly early into their relationship.

“May Carleton also came to meet you last week…” she spoke again after silence had hung in the air for a few moments.

“She needed to speak about the horse,” he answered in a nonchalant manner, not thinking much more of the meeting he had with the other woman.

(Y/N), of course, was overthinking it.

“Hey…” Tommy brought her out of her thoughts, making her focus on him again. “I can see you fighting with yourself. Let those thoughts go.”

“I can’t…I just can’t help but wonder if maybe, if maybe that, that with them coming back…” she tried to speak but her mind betrayed her, and the lump that formed in her throat stopped her from speaking altogether.

Not much more was needed to connect the dots though. The clues had been dropped and Tommy was quick enough to pick them up and place them in order. “Those women are in the past, (Y/N). You’re the one I want,” he spoke with sincereity, hoping that it’d quell the thoughts swirling around her mind.

(Y/N) held eye contact with him until she couldn’t anymore. She felt those worries still bubbling up inside of her, even though he’d just flat out told her that he wanted her. She dropped her gaze to her fingers, watching as she picked at her nails.

“(Y/N)…” Tommy tried to get her attention, but to no avail. “Look at me right now,” he went another route, using his index and middle finger to raise her eyes to his again. He could see that they were watery now, and he hated that she was thinking so far into this. He took her cheeks into his hands, pulling her the slightest bit closer to him before speaking again. “There’s no one but you, ok? You’re the one I want to be with. You’re the one I want,” he reiterated his point, his eyes searching hers as he spoke. “Ok?” he asked again after she hadn’t spoken in a few moments.

“Ok,” (Y/N) breathed out, nodding her head the best she could with it held in his hands. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, hoping to steady herself. When she opened them again, they immediately hooked onto Tommy’s intense blue ones. “I’m sorry, Tommy,” she felt that she had to apologize.

“Don’t be,” he shook his head slightly at her statement, “there’s no reason for you to be sorry, love.”

“But I…”

“No,” he cut her off, “I’m going to burn this letter, and any other letter that comes. You’re the one I want, (Y/N).”

A small smile formed on her face at his words. She reached out and gently ran the back of her hand down his cheek, watching as his eyes dropped to her lips. Knowing what was coming next, she closed her eyes, leaning in slightly and meeting him in the middle, their lips finding each other’s in a passionate kiss that rid her mind of all of her doubts.

“No one but you, love,” Tommy whispered against her lips before kissing them again.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @youtifulsunshinelixfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @iambored24601 @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

[beingawriteriskillingme]

Hi!!

I just stumbled across your mitsuya and drakens little sister drabble, and was wondering if I can request a drabble or oneshot of mitsuya and confessing to his childhood friend?

- :]

After All This Time {Mitsuya Takashi}

A/n: sorry it took me so long to write this. But I hope you like it and thanks for requesting!!! I took the liberty of making it a fem!reader since you didn't state if you wanted them to be gn or fem.

Pairing: Mitsuya Takashi x fem!reader

Warnings: none

Mitsuya's hands were sweating and he couldn't lie, it was slightly embarrassing. He was twenty-eight and was sweating like a teenage boy.

So far the day had been perfect, he had finished making a nice short dress he had desgned, wrapping it in the signature lilac paper wrap before placing it in a slightly darker purple bag. He had spent a day designing it and a week searching for the lilac satin he had imagined he would use.

And now he had to wait for another half an hour because he was way earlier than he intended to be. He couldn't tell what was making him anxious: the fact that he couldn't imagine your reaction to the dress or the fact that he was about to meet you, his childhood friend, after three years of not having seen you?

The two of you had met at the park where he would often take Luna and Mana to play. That day, you had brought yor little brother to play there as well and the two little girls had taken a liking to him so inevitably... the two of you spoke. Mitsuya, being merely a teenager, thought he had fallen in love with you, this type of innocent child love his teacher had talked about the previous day. He thought it would pass despite not wanting it to.

Luckily for him, his feelings only grew stronger.

But he never confessed, ignoring the innocent threats of Yuzuha and Draken telling him they would tell you themselves if he didn't. However, Mitsuya was waiting for the right moment. He always seemed to be waiting and as the years passed, the two of you rarely got any time alone. And then you got your first boyfriend and he couldn't really do anything.

When you left, he thought he would never see you again because a little voice in his head kept telling him that you would prefer the place you moved at over Tokyo. He kept contact with you, learning about your job, your day, everything.

Soon enough, those feelings he had placed under the carpet in his mind, resurfaced and all of a sudden he was back to being fifteen, waiting for your texts while making dinner for his sisters.

"Earth to Mitsuya?"

"Hm?" His eyes widened and they fell upon you. "Hey." He mumbled sheepishly, trying to hide his smile.

"Hi." You giggled. You hadn't changed one bit, just like he remembered, with your soft hair, your impeccable sense of fashion, your beautiful eyes and your radiant smile. That same smile that had him in a chokehold ever since he could remember.

Mitsuya's heart clenched but in a good way, in the same way it had when he had heard your melodic voice for the same time.

"This is for you." Almost shyly, he handed you the bag and waited, biting the inside of his cheek while waiting for you to open it.

"It is beautiful!" You exclaimed, not taking the dress out of the bag completely since the two of you were outside the cafeteria you had arranged to meet.

But he didn't notice your expression. Mitsuya's eyes were focused on the little note you were holding. He had spent countless moments wondering whether he should give you that note or not. Hakkai had called him a coward for choosing to write down his feelings instead of telling you himself.

He never noticed placing it inside.

"Aww an autograph from my favourite designer?" You asked playfully and Mitsuya could swear his eyes twitched.

"Um... yes about that." Before he could defend himself, you opened the letter.

It was nothing special just a simple "I love you more than you can imagine."

He had never finished writing that note. That simple sentence was neither the beginning nor the end of it, he just knew he wanted to mention it.

"Since when?"

"Since forever." It felt as if in that moment, Mitsuya had lost whatever knowledge and skill he had at reading people because for the life of him, he couldn't read your expression.

"So... do I get a VIP pass for your shows?"

"Is that a yes?"

"Obviously."

Tags:

@vera-deville

[antennaed-kenzy]

How r u? This is my attempt at a request!

Barou Shouei x GN (preferably)! Poet! Gentle/Sweet! Reader

Genre: Fluff, Crack, Reader is a sweetheart, Highschool/No Blue Lock! AU

- Reader doesn't know how to talk to Barou, so instead they secretly put love poems in Barou's locker. Reader thinks Barou doesn't know who his secret admirer is, until he corners poor Reader after class to confront them.

Small Letters

✰ Baro Shoei x GN! reader

✰ Genre: fluff, crack, reader is a sweety high school au

✰ Misc: Word Count: 1.7k I am having a wonderful day, sorry it took forever. Thanks for the request hope it meets what you wanted.

✰ you leave letters in his locker cause you're scared to say what you mean to him, that is until he confronts you

"You're joking? Love letters?" Your best friend shouts, way too loud for the whole world to hear.

You cover her mouth with your hand so she doesn't say anything else she isn't supposed to. "Will you keep your mouth shut!" You look around to see a few people giving you two weird stares as they walk past down the street. "People are looking at us weird."

The two of you continue to walk to school. Your friend made it their life mission to make fun of you about putting letters in someone's locker. You did your best to ignore her, but everything she was saying was right.

You don't like confrontation. Check You stutter when you try to talk to people you don't know. Check You forget things when you try to talk to new people. Check You are too shy to say what's on your mind. Check Lastly, you ignore your feelings and yourself. Check

So what are letters in someone's locker going to prove? The courage? No. The skills to talk? No point in learning who someone is? Partially. Then what's the real reason why you are writing these love letters?

"To get the thoughts out of my brain. Even if he doesn't know. I know he's at least seeing them." You respond to your friend while jotting down the notes from today's lecture.

She sighs wondering what is going on in your head. She knows you don't really speak your mind. So what are love letters going to do?

You made it home and opened your notebook to a clear page. You looked at your pens to find a nice one that had smooth ink on the paper. Everything had to be perfect, he had to know that someone cared for him.

After what felt like an eternity of thinking you finally thought of some cute little sentences for the first love note.

"You barely know me, but I feel like I know so much about you. Your cleaning habits, how you think you are the best. Well, you are the best. At least in my eyes. My eyes can't look away from you when you talk in class."

You put the pen done and looked back at your writing. You didn't like it too well but for the first letter, you don't want to be complicated and long like you have been stalking him for years. You fold up the letter put cute stickers on it and put it in your backpack.

The next day you wait for your friend to stop by our house so you guys can walk together.

"Have you written the letter?" She asked looking in your direction with a grin on her face.

You took away from her down on the ground with a little smile on your face. "Yes, it's short. Nothing too sweet."

"I can't believe you." Your friend teased you the whole walk to school about the letters.

When you finally arrived at school someone took away your best friend. They were from her club so you let it slide, thought it took you both by surprise when someone grabbed her and walked away.

Now it was your chance to slide the letter into his locker. You went to his locker and slid the note in the slit. You then ran away into the bathroom so you could hide away.

You look in the mirror while washing your hands. Your cheeks were like a fireplace, this was your first time doing anything like this. After regaining yourself you walk out of the bathroom and to your next class.

"Did you slide the letter in his locker?" She asked leaning on your desk.

You couldn't face your friend otherwise she would make fun of you more. "Yes, I did." Though your voice also spoke more than need be.

Your friend chuckled at you, "It was just a letter. Calm down. Who says he's even read it yet?" She sat in her seat in front of you, her body still facing you. "Don't be shy, {Y/n}. You just wrote a love letter to a guy that has more steam than a boat."

"Hey," You lifted your head to look at your friend. She had a big smirk on her face when she saw you. You hide your face when you feel the heat rise to your cheeks. "Shut up."

She laughs before turning around to face the class. The teacher walks in and class goes as normal. Besides that fact, you couldn't stop thinking about the note you slit in his locker.

When class was finished Baro Shoei opened his locker to be greeted with a letter that fell to the ground. He bent down to pick it up. There were a bunch of cute flower stickers around it, which were won from a prize machine for some sort of award.

He put the letter in his pocket for later. He went to his next class forgetting about the letter until he got home. As he was cleaning his school jacket he found the letter from earlier.

He opened the letter to be surprised by a love letter. Love letters were common in the school, but for him to receive one. It was like a blue moon, hell there is more of a chance for a blue moon than Baro getting a love letter. He opened the letter and read it through.

He pinned another love poem to the wall, and the collection kept getting bigger with each passing day. They all started the same, "I know you don't know me." Then the rest of the poems were her pouring her heart out.

They all had the same handwriting, the same pen, the same signature. It all leads to one particular person themselves, {L/n} {Y/n}.

The next day at school {Y/n} had put another letter in his locker. There he was waiting from afar to go grab the letter. They have gotten used to dropping off the letters, and they no longer rush to the bathroom to wash off their face.

You drop off Baro's love letter for the day and catch up with your friends. You have gotten more comfortable with life and yourself. However old habits don't die hard.

"What did the letter say today?" Your friend teased getting real close to your face.

Your face rushed on heat when you thought back to the letter. "I know you don't know me, but I know you. I know you so much more now through these letters..."

Baro took the note from his locker and put it in his pocket so he could hand it on the wall when he gets home. It has been about two months since this all started and Baro figured out who the person was about a week in when he saw a paper of yours. The same handwriting and the same pen.

After School Baro was waiting at the spot you usually wait for your friends.

As you were walking to your normal waiting stop you saw someone there. 'Baro' You stop walking when you realize who it was. You were shocked and wanted to back away, that was until he saw.

Baro looked at the time and then back at his surroundings. Then he saw you walking toward him. He called you over, loud and clear. Pretty much for the whole school to hear.

You stop in your tracks wanting to cower away in embarrassment. Since he already called, you had no choice but to walk over to him. You took a deep breath in and out. Your whole body was shaking, and your knees felt weak like they could give out at any moment.

You were unable to move anywhere, partially due to the fact that you couldn't move away. Your body wouldn't let you, and Baro had you in a corner. With a piece of paper in his hand.

You know what this was about, and so did he. This was his plan after all.

"Need anything, Baro-kun?" You ask not sure what to say.

He stayed silent for a while making the tension grow stronger and your body heating up like a furnace. He finally spoke and you realized everything you did was so, you.

"You're really bad at hiding things. Every letter was the same, the pen the handwriting. Your morals never changed along with handwriting. For the first 3 days, you were easy to figure out, but you kept going." Baro held the letter and gave it to you. "And maybe you shouldn't have used the same stickers you use on your folders."

You were too stunned to speak and too shocked to react. He caught you, the one thing you wished not to happen has happened and you didn't know what to do. You could only sheepishly laugh at his remark.

You look behind Baro to see your friends looking at you, yet here you are being confronted by who you think is the man for you and for your future.

He may not look like a good husband on the outside. He may not even look like a person to talk to. But on the inside.

On the inside On the inside, he is a perfect man.

He can cook for you He can clean for you. He'll take care of you.

Baro Shoei is the man for me. He may know me. He may look at me.

I'll care for him and he'll take care of me till the end of time.

That was the last letter you left in his locker. Along with it was the last letter of the school year. It certainly wasn't the last letter you left for him though. Every morning Baro would have a letter by the side of his bed, and he would have one waiting for him when he got home.

The both of you made a bigger wall dedicated to all your letters. All of them still had the same pen, the same handwriting, the same signature, and the same stickers throughout all the years.

For the long 3 years, everything was the same in the letters. You poured your heart out to him even if you two were together. You still wrote all your thoughts down on the notes and Baro loved every single one of them. You knew he loved them from the way he kept them in order all the wall easy to read from afar.

a/n: thanks for your request. I loved writing this and I hope it reached your expectations :).

[panic-in-the-multiverse]

Harry Potter’s Twin

Pairings: Harry Potter x twin!reader

Requested by: @insomniacwreck Could you do like Harry x twin! Reader? Like how he’d act, at the Dursley’s and Hogwarts maybe?

Warnings: idk, child neglect? the Dursley family treatment of Harry, the word murder is like once or twice other than that idk, not proofread

A/N sorry for not posting anything in a while, but I had to take a pause bc ✨depression✨, it just hit extra hard this time, but hey at least a bit of my creativity is back, but I’ve mostly been drawing, anyway here’s a headcanon bc why not

Did I know what I was writing half of the time, no the answer is no

I see a lot of fics where Harry and his twin sleeps together under the staircase, but if I’m honest I don’t think two people would fit to sleep there, even if they are small, so I’d say the Dursley’s would give the smallest room, that could be used as a actual room to the potter twins. Of course there’s be minimal decoration, two small beds that used to be Dudley’s, along with an really old wardrobe and nightstand, probably a really small desk if they could fit it, just so that they could actually do schoolwork (thank Petunia)

Both Harry and his twin would do most of the chores, except the few times Petunia does them, washing, making breakfast, dishing, cleaning, you get what I mean

Beating each others only friend growing up, until you started hogwarts that is

I’d think as you are both each other only way of affection you’d probably have a habit of falling asleep in each others beds cuddled up together

As cliché as it might be I do love the fics where the twin is like a replica of James (in looks and personality) and as Harry has his mother’s eyes his twin has his fathers eyes, but I wanted to say was every family needs a rebel, and if the twin acts like James they sure as hell would be classified as a rebel in the Dursley household

Getting in a lot of trouble, like a lot (some by accident some not by accident)

“Stealing” things from Dudley making him question his sanity as he knew he put it down just moments before (he usually blames you though)

Standing up for eachother whenever you get scolded or yelled at

“Stealing” food at night when you weren’t allowed any

Thinking you were both crazy the first time you both used magic by accident

Sharing clothes is a pain but you make it work

Being each others happiness, especially on your birthday as you smile at each other and say “happy birthday Harry” “Happy birthday Y/N” at the same time

Having twin powers, you know finishing each other sentences, knowing when something bad happens to the other, knowing what you’re both thinking (I swear twin powers are somewhat real, I’m a triplet and we have the same power)

Grabbing a letter from the floor instead of the one’s flying (I had to okay, Harry was really dumb that time)

Laughing hysterically when Harry accidentally makes aunt marge into a ballon

Time for the fun part starting Hogwarts

You’d probably be attached to the hip at the beginning, while you’re wandering Diagon Alley with all the knew strange people, you both got your own owls btw, even when on the train you’d be right by each other trying to calm down your nervousness, and anxiety over starting a new school with magic in which you know nothing about, let’s not forget you are both famous for some unknown reason to the both of you

Neither of you cared what house you got in, hoping it was the same house but if it wasn’t you’d be fine with that to, maybe a bit hard to sleep the first night, bc you usually sleep next to each other or at least the same room, personally I would love for Harry’s twin to be a Hufflepuff I don’t know why I just love the idea

A few weeks into the first school year you’d separate a bit, getting friends of your own, but you’d probably be friends with Hermione and Ron too, you could always go to Hermione if you needed help with anything, as she could always go to you with anything, Ron if I’m honest don’t go to him with everything we all know how he is with Harry and the triwizard tournament. But hey anything food related, Ron is your guy.

Yes I do love it when Fred and George are your best friends, and if I’m honest I can see the two older twins taking you under their wing and teaching you all they know, you knew about the map two years before Harry did.

Friends: Fred and George like stated before, Hermione, Ron, Neville, Seamus, Dean, Luna later on when you meet her we all gotta have that one friend (me I’m that friend), obviously Harry as he’s your twin, probably Cedric somehow, it would be fun if you were more friendly to Draco too, oh I gotta as Oliver Wood love that guy, If I’m honest I don’t remember the names of any Ravenclaw s but you’re probably friends with some of them too , as well as Slytherins, we do not follow stereotypes here

Teasing Ginny about her crush on Harry

Detentions

Snape “hating” you

Everyone looking at you like you lit the stars in the sky because you survived the killing curse

It would be fun if you were somewhat oblivious to Harry’s shenanigans being to occupied with your pranks with the Weasley twins. But Harry does fill you in on things so you aren’t completely in the dark, you just couldn’t care less if someone was out to murder you again

Loving Fluffy and Buckbeak because they’re adorable 🥰

Defeating Quirrell/Voldemort together in your first year

You’d probably be able to speak with snakes too though, and in your second year you did it to scare people of who thought you was the one who opened the chamber of secrets

Getting paralyzed with Hermione by the basilisk

Fast forward to Sirius escaping, I’m going with Sirius being Harry’s godfather, and Remus being your godfather, because I cannot leave Remus out my boy doesn’t deserve that

Remus tells you a lot of stories about your parents

Remus doesn’t even want to know how many detentions you’ve gotten by know nor how many times you’ve been in the hospital wing

Getting Fred and George to try and find Sirius Black with you because you want answers and Draco might of let a few things slip when the two of you talked

You did not to your knowledge succeed in finding Sirius but you did find a dog who you brought food a lot of times

Remus and Sirius being proud of both you and Harry for being on the Quidditch team, two of the best players, you being chaser

Knowing Remus is a werewolf bc he told you, but you never told Harry because you wanted to have a secret with your godfather that Harry didn’t know, and if you’re ere honest you could never know how people would react to someone just casually saying “btw our teacher is a werewolf”

A lot of time is spent talking to Remus about your problems and everything else in your life the other time is spent with the Weasley twins

Not getting selected for the triwizard tournament but still somehow ending up at the graveyard with Harry and Cedric

Pranking umbridge a lot, did not end well for your hands, as they are littered with scars from the pen she made you use

I don’t want to cry today so we will just say that you saved Sirius, Remus, Tonks and Fred’s life so no tears today

Yeah that’s about it I think, a lot of chaos ensures after Dumbledore’s death, and eventually Voldemort is finally defeated and you live the rest of your life happily, probably becoming an Auror,

Bonus: would be fun if you published a book, “ the twins who lived” written by Y/N Potter, bestselling book and used in history of magic in the future when referencing to the events of the war with Voldemort

[invidiia]

Heyy! Can you write for yandere fyodor< 3 ?

Have a great day!

꒰ general yandere fyodor headcanons ꒱

notes ; YES I CAN!! thank you for requesting, and have a good day, too! it would have been done sooner but i passed out on my keyboard LMAO ngl this is probably just a fic written how i'd write hcs instead of actual hcs, so lets just say i'm sharin my thoughts instead

warnings ; he seems nice at first but please take the warnings seriously, manipulation, stalking, starvation, murder, yandere themes, possessiveness, kidnapping, hurting your family, friends, probably the biggest red flag i write for, does fyodor himself need a warning

⋆ this man is such a red flag but it's okay because most things are better in red

⋆ upon seeing you for the first time, you won't remember him for a while, having only seen his face once. weirdly, you don't seem to notice for the next two months that he happens to be in the same store as you, the same cafe you go to, the same library you borrow books from, your favorite restaurant, and so many other places you frequently visited. i mean, the city was super safe, why would you need to look behind you?

⋆ after about two months of stalking, he finally tapped your shoulder one day and started to make conversation of the book you had in your hand, a well recognized crime novel. fyodor made small-talk about the book to you, expressing his interest in literature and asking how far you were into the book.

⋆ i mean, who wouldn't immediately fall if some hot guy came up and talked to you about books you both liked? because i know i'd fall, first and harder.

⋆ after a bit more talking, he offered his phone number to you so he could text you all the recommendations he had, since he said he didn't have pen and paper on him at the moment. but of course, you didn't think there anything suspicious about such a person. after all, he seemed to like the same books you did, and there was a clear connection.

⋆ and every few days, it was another date at the library, catching up on books. only about half of these were planned, all the other times, he just happened to show up about 25 seconds after you walked through the door. every time, you both ended up staying at the library until it closed, talking about books and reading through some that you hadn't finished yet.

⋆ and he wants to know everything you think, every few sentences, the man stops reading to ask about your thoughts. no matter how different your views are, he finds your perspective interesting. afterwards, you ask him about his own opinion, and he gives it. to you, fyodor seems like one of the smartest men in the world.

⋆ he also recommended you some russian literature, some of his favorites. he met you at the library once more, after texting you that he had some books. walking up to you with a book in hand, you noticed the unfamiliar language on the cover.

"it's not a japanese novel, but i can help you translate it, yes? i think you'd enjoy it."

⋆ it was safe to say he was pretty in love. it was months since you started to hang out in the library, sometimes not even talking about books. he wasn't fully convinced you also loved him, but he was so kind to you, and you deeply appreciated it. why not give it a chance?

⋆ the man was unusually calm when you turned him down. you told him that you only viewed him as a friend, apologizing profusely for upsetting him, but fyodor only smiled and told you it was fine, bidding his goodbyes and walking back to who knows where.

⋆ it was a weird month after his confession, no library dates, you got fired from your job, and even some of your close family stopped speaking with you. it felt like almost no jobs could take you, every place you tried turned you down and shut the door in your face after ushering you out of the building. cafes you walked by looked at you and turned the sign in the door to the side with 'closed' in big, bold, red letters.

⋆ it felt like moving was the only option, so you started to plan your departure from your side of yokohama. the city was huge, surely everyone couldn't hate you! as you were moving boxes into your car, you were stopped by the familiar man, of course, you knew his presence.

"could i help you with those?"

⋆ his voice wasn't mocking, but it sure felt like he knew. after helping you, fyodor offered a place to stay. but,, dependency on someone else felt weird, and you already called the apartment complex, speaking about the vacant room. you politely declined the man's offer, saying you had your living situation already sorted out

⋆ man that didn't go over well with him, he asked if he could take you out to the cafe you always used to go to with him to talk about the novels you found interest in. since he was paying, why say no?

⋆ surprise surprise, when you weren't looking, he slipped something in your drink, and now you're locked in a dark room with a locked door and a note. it wasn't really readable though.. fyodor needed to practice writing in japanese.

⋆ every morning, afternoon, and evening, e came in with a plate of food. surprisingly, it was really good. sometimes, when he came in with more water for you to drink, he even gave you books to read while he was away, or busy sitting in front of multiple bright screens.

⋆ it was rare for him to let you anywhere outside that room, but eventually you gained some of his trust, and he allowed you to roam around the house, with close observation. he even blocked out the windows!

⋆ but even if you do get through the windows, it's a long fall to the pavement below. but it'd be worth a chance! if fyodor didn't have his eyes on you about 24/7.

⋆ you can TRY to escape, but he'll likely catch you. it's like he has eyes everywhere. when, not if, he catches you, no more food until the next day!

⋆ but i wouldn't try escaping immediately. a good way to escape from fyodor is to gain his trust slowly, so that he'll maybe let you go outside under his close supervision. even if you run off into a large crowd.. he'll probably still find you. and if he can't find you himself, you have his closest friend seeking you out as well! good luck, cause he's also dangerous!

@kolyakisses // i drank soy sauce while writing this

[mooodyblue]

Could you write something about caregiver Elvis and his self-conscious little?

Like when it's time for their bottle they refuse to drink, and they stop sitting on his lap and start to play quietly by themselves instead of playing energetically with Elvis or Jerry because they think that they have gained weight.

thank you for the request ^^

pairing: cg!elvis x gn!little!reader

wc: 855

warnings: body image issues

➸ masterlist

there was a saying that you gain weight when you're in a happy relationship. you tried to make that not the case for your current relationship, despite your love for elvis.

elvis noticed how hesitant you were about being little today. he just wasn't sure why. it was always the two of you playing, him bouncing you on his lap and sometimes picking you up to twirl you around in the sparkly new dress or outfit that you bought. but not today. something felt off.

no pretty clothes, none of the clothes you wore that made you feel little….not even a bottle. you were wrapped up in a blanket, staring at the tv blankly. he wandered into the living room, looking over at you, “baby,” he cooed, “you want your bottle?”

“no.” you muttered back.

what? no bottle? “a-are ya sure, honey?” he asked curiously. it was so unlike you to not want a bottle, you always wanted milk or a sippy cup full of apple juice. “how ‘bout a snack?”

“no.” you said again.

“well, sheesh darlin’, at least have some manners n’ say no, thank you.” he put his hands on his hips, raising an eyebrow. “what’s got ya all grouchy today?” he walked over to you, sitting on the sofa.

“‘m fine.” you kept your eyes glued to the tv, only speaking in short sentences.

he shook his head and picked you up gently to set you on his lap, a soft whine escaping your lips. this was the problem. elvis grunted when he picked you up, he used to never grunt. the only reasoning in your brain was that you’d gained a bit of weight. you wanted to climb off his lap, hide yourself away, but you knew he’d just get mad. “ah, i know what ya need. a nice nap, huh?” he suggested, grinning.

you couldn’t say no to a nap. except that nap only made you feel worse.

elvis did his best to cheer you up. eventually, you were in your own other world, on the floor playing with blocks as you proudly spelled out words that he said to you. it was a good distraction from the vile thoughts inside your brain.

he got down on the floor beside you, pulling you into his lap as he began to help you stack letters together. you let a tiny whine out, trying to wiggle out of his hold. “you got ants in your pants?” elvis teased. you escaped from his hold, crawling away and moving to play with something else by yourself.

“alright…” he sighed, crawling over to you and sitting beside you. “what’s gotten into you today, baby? what’s the matter, huh?” he rubbed his hand in circles on your back gently.

you shook your head, hiding away from him.

“honey…” he frowned.

the look on elvis’s face was enough to make you cave in. “‘m not little enough.” you muttered, picking at the plush carpet underneath you.

he turned to you confused, “not lil’ enough?” he repeated back. “what do you mean? you’re my baby, aren’t ya? my little one?”

“‘too….big.” you didn't look at him, keeping your head down.

“big?” he repeated, confused.

“fat.”

elvis widened his eyes, “woah! now, hold on.” he tilted your face up with his fingers underneath your chin, forcing you to look at him. “where the hell did that come from? we don't use those words in that way in this house.” he said sternly.

“y-you make noises when y-you pick me up ‘n you're always like…’oh you've had enough’ when ‘m havin’ a bottle o-or a snack and—”

“baby…baby, my god” he quickly interrupted, putting his hands on your cheeks. “don't go talkin' like that. it hurts my feelings.” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, taking your hands in his. “you know why i tell ya when you've had enough? cause if i don't—you’ll go ‘n eat or drink too much ‘n get yourself an upset tummy. then you'll be cryin' ‘bout how icky you feel, we don't want that, do we?”

“w-well…no….”

he interrupted you again, “and baby, i’m an old man. my body ain't what it used to be. them nosies i’m makin’ when i pick you up or sit you in my lap? they're old man noises, honey.” he chuckled. “give your old man a break.”

“daddy’s not old….” you pouted.

elvis let out a small laugh, “well, thank you. but i’m serious, baby. i love you. i don't care how much ya weigh and it ain't none of my business. you're beautiful, lil’ one. i love all of ya.”

you hated when you let your insecurities get to you when you were little, especially when it was when you felt the safest. but elvis’s sweet words and reminders made you feel a little better. you gave him a small smile, nodding. “i love you too, daddy. ‘m sorry.”

“can daddy hold ya in his lap again? we gotta finish this lil’ tower you got goin’ on here.” he ushered you over, lifting you up and setting you in his lap—now without the grunts.

[multi-fandom-agereg]

Hi hi! Love your writing! Can I request headcanons of cg hobie brown? I think he'd be so fun! There needs to be more spidervere agere

‹ 🎸 › Hobie Brown As a Caregiver

🎀 : As much as I don't like to post after I already posted recently, I couldn't pass a hobie headcanon. Thank you for asking anon! Hope you enjoy :] ✨

🎸 : unlike Miles and Pravitr he's completely a rebellious caregiver. Bedtimes? Nah, rules? Not unless you really need them, and he encourages you to get in a little of his shenanigans here and there

🎸 : he often gets his ear torn off by the others about how he takes care of you

🧸 : he has a hard time directly comforting when you need it. He's not around it alot and since you're in a vulnerable state he has to find his own ways to help you

🧸 : even if it's just a pat on the shoulder or telling you you're fine

☕ : He's not the one to use petnames. At first he didn't use them at all or kept forgetting, but slowly began calling you them now and again

☕ : punk/bugger/kid/rebellion/little dude is his usual petnames for you

☕ : he's not that affectionate either, though that doesn't mean he doesn't like a good cuddle or hug sometimes. In fact he finds it comforting, but he won't admit it

🎸 : out of all the spider people, he is the most active when it came taking you places and getting you out of the house. Pravitr loves Taking you places like parks, sure. But what about carnivals, pools, hiking and concerts? Hobie is your guy for that stuff

🎸 : "Hey, little dude, how about instead of sleeping we skip to go to a concert? I heard they're selling cotton candy!~"

☕ : he might've snuck you out of the house several times during his times of taking care of you— even if he gets an earful from Miguel or Gwen the most at the end

🎸 : if he upsets you in any way, he'd just write letters to you and give them to you full of apologies. Usually containing: horrible drawings (don't worry he tried his best), him writing sentences on sentences of him being sorry, and just sappy things

🎸 : he apologizes like you're about to bite him for it

☕ : "They asked for no pickles.."

🎸 : he'll never admit it, but he can get jealous whenever you're being babysat with someone else that isn't him. like.. so jealous he'd tear up

🎸 : don't worry though, a simple hug or you just being yourself around him makes him feel instantly better

☕ : "back off, man, they're just a kid."

🎸 : not overprotective but protective enough to tell others to back off if you're overwhelmed. If Miguel expects you to do a heavy job Hobie will do it instead instantly.. maybe scold Miguel a bit in the process

🧸 : If you happen to fall asleep that isn't in your bed, he'd carry you "bridal pose" or pick you up by your armpits and make sure you're covered up and comfortable in your room. Don't worry he'll let you have your sleep. Afterall a little one like you needs it

‹ 🎸 › Mini fic of CG!Hobie — "You're too little for that"

🧸 : for all little ages! This is just hobie babying you

hobie studied you from across the room, seeing you quietly make cupcakes for the others. No special occasion but you thought it would be nice thing to do Afterall. Lately you've been secretly Regressing, feeling bad for it you kept it to yourself. Hobie started to catch on but you'd quickly denied it or do something that made him forget about your behavior change. It worked for a few days but hobie knew you a bit too well. He's been your caregiver for about two months so there wasn't going around it. Not now or anytime soon. Before you know it you slipped completely. you try to grasp the little parts you have left to stay big, but it was too late. Hobie raised an eyebrow, catching on what happened. Even though in your regressed state, you continue to make the cupcakes. You weren't even half done.. and this was harder than it looked. You grabbed the ingredients and put it inside the blender, about to turn it on before a soft hand cupped yours, stopping you in your tracks. You looked up to see Hobie, who had a curious look on his face. It was almost unreadable but you can tell he was more confused than anything.. maybe just his neutral expression? He just tilted his head at you before he let out a soft chuckle. "Hey, hey how.. c'mon, kid.. you aren't getting past me with that 'oh I'm a big kid' bullcrap.. you're too little to bake by yourself. Here, let me help you..”

🎀 : SUGGESTIONS ALWAYS OPEN FOR ANY FANDOM! +mini fics like this are now open! So suggest that if you'd like ✨

[heavenbarnes]

Hi! Do you have any tips for writing Simon's dialogue? I'm having a bit of trouble getting the right in-character feel for this multi chapter fic I'm writing (not advertising! Just would rather dip my pinkie toe in acid than write thousands of words, only to *finally* get the hang of him and have to cry silently to myself as I go through it all fixing it). Please share your wisdom, you are so good with him!

ok so thank you for asking this, means a lot to hear you think i’ve done good! 🫶🏼

alright here are my honest thoughts:

first up, i’m from new zealand which was colonised by the british- therefore, a lot of of our colloquial language features have british history or at least undertones (im saying this because this is why i feel more natural writing for him than for american characters)

ANYWAYS- simon is from manchester and when you’re writing his dialogue it’s good to utilise the mancunian dialect if you really want to capture him

with a lot of words you can drop either the first or last letter to emphasise accent (like ‘ang on instead of hang on) or contract a word (like y’one instead of saying your one)

i’d also recommend googling mancunian slang for terms that might be used, nothing turns me off a fic with a british character like seeing american slang

referring to people as “our” (like our johnny) or contracting your words into one rather than annunciating (s’all goin’ on’ere?) are just basic examples

if you’re writing romantic dialogue, thing i think works best is simplicity- to me he’s a simple man and i don’t think you’re getting any of that airy fairy stuff out of him

pet names would be basic, pet, sweet’art, love- you might get a sweetpea at a stretch (but only when it’s just you two)

if you’re going for in-game accuracy, he’s a man of few words i honestly think he communicates more in grunts and “y’right?” more than he does in sophisticated sentences

he’s also a military man, he’s a bit rough around the edges and isn’t always a smooth talker, he’s more practical than a wordsmith- he can be a bit stuttered or a bit awkward

if you’re wanting to write dirty talk, less is more- i really don’t think he’s saying anything fancy and when he talks it’s almost always about his partner

he’s telling his partner how good they feel, how good they look, how much he wants them, etc.

also more question and answer based, “y’like that?” “i know, tell me all about it yeah?” once again, practical guy less is more

however, i think he lends himself to getting cocky if he’s in the moment so he might be able to talk himself up a bit with things like “you can take it, that’s it”

most of all, i think he can be whoever you want him to be as he’s a character- if you decide that he will say something then he will! because you’re his writer!

[pepperonijem]

i. the gentle indifference of the world || all my love

"I opened myself to the gentle indifference of the world." - The Stranger; Albert Camus

Summary: He's cool, smart, attractive... and completely out of your league. But that won't stop you from falling head over heels for him. Pairing: high school!bucky x f!reader Warnings: steve is a little ooc but just roll with it Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: yay!! welcome to the first chapter!

back to library || next chapter

If you had listened to the rational voice in your head when your dad broke the news to you, you wouldn’t be in this situation.

If you had started making a list of things to pack, if you had called either of your two best friends immediately after, if you decided to be sane for 12 minutes, you wouldn’t be in this situation.

However, hindsight is 20/20, but in terms of foresight? You shouldn’t be allowed near the driver’s seat of any vehicle. Because instead of making any of the simple rational decisions after your father mentioned the possibility of moving across the country, you chose to sit down at your desk and write a letter. Fountain pen in hand and a candle burning beside you, for 12 minutes you were a character in a Jane Austen novel. Probably Lydia Bennett of all people, but a Jane Austen character nonetheless.

And that letter was how you found yourself in this situation – mortified and surrounded by whispers and stares, but worst of all, the icy blue glare of James Bucky Barnes was fixed on the pretty pink card in your hands.

A simple “no thanks,” and that was it, but why did it feel like time stopped? One word was enough to crumble your fragile heart and you froze right in place. It wasn’t until you felt a pair of arms wrap around you that you began to breathe again, and blood rushed back into your brain enough for you to see Bucky turn the corner and disappear.

Once you finally felt your heartbeat return to normal, you looked around to see the empty classroom you were in and you let out a sigh.

“You ready to tell us what just happened?” one concerned voice asked. Wanda’s voice was always gentle, always cheerful, usually loud, but the softness in her tone this time tipped you over the edge and you felt the sting of fresh tears in your eyes. She knelt down to look you in the eye as your other friend, Steve, helped you to sit at a desk.

Another sigh and you finally began to explain. “My dad said we might be moving in a couple of weeks,” you started, feeling your heart sink at the looks of hurt on your friends’ faces. “So I guess part of me panicked and I decided to tell Bucky how I felt.”

Now it was Steve’s turn to let out a sigh. The ever wise, ever charming Steve, who could see the end of any problem. His sigh was not out of pity, but out of frustration. “You know you could’ve called us right? We could’ve talked this through, came up with a better way to do this.” You knew that Steve and Wanda would not have let you go through with the idea if you had called, but you appreciated the fact that he didn’t say that.

“I know,” you began to argue. “But I don’t know, part of me… hoped he would say yes.” You didn’t miss the way Steve and Wanda’s eyes went wide as you mumbled the end of your sentence. “At least anything but whatever the hell happened today.”

You knew Steve was holding himself back. In his head he runs through every scenario before he acts, actually somewhat calculating underneath his calm, charming exterior. He knew this was the most likely scenario, but he would never tell you that, so he lets out a sigh instead and turns his attention to the math equations written on the whiteboard. 

Wanda on the other hand was a reactor. Her heart was on her sleeve and her anger at seeing her best friend upset was clear in her furrowed eyebrows and shaky voice. “I just don’t get why you keep wasting your time on him,” she confessed. “He’s too dense for his own good and he’s not particularly nice either. He’s smart academically, but stupid in every other way. He’s really not worth it.”

Steve turned around, surprised at Wanda’s outburst. “Wanda,” he called out. “Aren’t you friends with him?”

Wanda scoffed in response. “What about it?” she answered back. “You guys are stupid too, but we’re still friends.” A beat of silence passed as the three of you stared at each other, unblinking, before laughter broke the stillness. It was moments like this that made you pause to appreciate the two people you called your best friends. Although life had its ups and downs, the downs never lasted long, not when you had two loving friends to pull you right back up.

You stood up, a renewed sense of pride and determination filling you up. “You’re right Wanda,” you exclaimed and she gave you a thumbs up in return. “Boys are stupid.” Steve and Wanda shared a look of surprise.

“Well that’s not–” Wanda began to protest.

“I’m not stupid,” Steve started a little too loudly and boldly. “I wouldn’t have turned you down.” 

He finished his sentence softly as he watched you walk out of the classroom door. Wanda placed a comforting arm around Steve’s shoulders. “I wouldn’t have turned you down either Steve,” she teased as Steve shoved her to the side playfully.

Despite your renewed sense of pride, the quietness of your study period left you too much time to think and you found yourself lost in a sense of nostalgia as you sat at a table in the library.

The first time you met Bucky was still painted clear as day in your mind. 

You were a freshman searching for solace amidst the chaos of high school on the first day and you had found yourself in the library. Until now, it was a place of peace for you, but especially so on that first day. 

Running your fingers along the aisles of books, you found one that you wanted to read. The Stranger, by Albert Camus, sitting right at the top shelf, pushed just a little too far back for you to be able to wiggle it out. You let out a sigh, and rolled up your sleeve, embarrassed that your next plan of attack was to climb the shelf to be able to reach the book. You braced yourself, shutting your eyes and taking a deep breath, when a baritone chuckle snapped you out of your thoughts. 

You had opened your eyes to see an arm  reaching past you to grab a book off the shelf– your book. In your head you cursed his long legs and arms, but as you met eyes with the boy, you felt your heart sink down to your toes and shoot right back up and suddenly you didn’t want to read a book that was so nihilist anymore. Meursault may not have found it, but love suddenly became something that mattered.

He waved the book in your direction and you had to force your attention to his words and away from his face. “Were you trying to get this?” he asked.

“Huh?” you blinked before looking down at the book you were no longer interested in. “Oh, yeah, I was but, I don’t know if I want to read it anymore.”

He hummed and nodded in response as he inspected the book. “The Stranger,” He read. “Is it good?” 

“Yeah, if you’re into stories about life having no meaning,” you explained, suddenly flustered at the way he seemed to take your words seriously.

“I see,” he replied. “Then do you think life has no meaning? It seemed like you wanted this book pretty badly.” The weight of his question startled you as you tried to stammer out a response but before you could get anything significant out, his watch beeped and he was already turning his back to you. “Thanks for the book recommendation,” he called back, waving the book in the air.

That day, James Barnes stole not only your book, but your affections. 

For the next four years of your life, you found yourself loving him from a distance. You’d see him in the hallways, in class, but you could never bring yourself to say anything to him and you resigned yourself to this distance. It was lonely, but it was safe, and that was good enough for you… until today.

Now, after breaking that distance, you wished you never did. It was easier to never know how he felt about you, to be in love with the memory you had of him rather than be crushed by reality. 

The final bell finally rang and you were more than ready to head home. Outside the quiet bubble of the library, the school was cheering, the drumline playing in the main hall and everyone shouting cheers to the football team, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to celebrate your senior homecoming game with the rest of the school. Instead you found Wanda and Steve and made your way home.

“Welcome home!” 

The sound of your father’s voice filled you with warmth as soon as he opened the door, the joy in his greeting briefly making you forget the events of the day. He wrapped you in a tight embrace, still smelling of spices from his day spent at the restaurant, and led you and your friends into the house. 

Once inside, your dad gave your friends a confused look. “Isn’t tonight your last homecoming game? Shouldn’t you be at the game?” He questioned as the three of you kicked off your shoes and set your backpacks down by the door.

Wanda looked over to you as she answered, “Nah,” she replied with an easy smile. “The real party is here.” Your dad let out a hearty laugh in response, which the three of you mirrored. 

“I had made way too much dinner for just the two of us, so it’s perfect that you guys are here,” your dad put his arms around Wanda and Steve who cheered in response.

“Well, once I found out you were making the world’s best lasagna, how could I not invite myself over?” Steve said. The way your dad beamed back at Steve made both you and Wanda chuckle. Steve was both an extremely talented artist as well as an extremely talented cook, and your dad absolutely adored him for it. He was always welcome to the family dinner.

“Careful, dad,” you chimed in. “Between Steve and Wanda, there might not be any left for the two of us.” Your dad laughed in response as Steve rolled his eyes and Wanda nodded. As you settled into the table, you realized your dad wasn’t exaggerating at all when he said he made way too much dinner. The table was lined with lasagna, roasts, vegetables, and lots of side dishes, enough for a feast. “What’s the occasion dad?” You asked as you looked around the table, trying to decide what to eat first. 

Your dad set his silverware down before explaining. “Well,” he began. “To be honest, I felt somewhat bad.” 

“About what?” you asked, your mouth full of lasagna. 

Your dad chuckled as he continued, passing you a napkin. “As I’m sure you’ve explained to your friends,” he gestured to Steve and Wanda. “I accepted the offer to help start the new restaurant. I thought about it some more, and I felt bad that you would have to uproot your whole life right at the end of high school.”

You looked at him, urging him to continue.

“So I contacted my friend from college, the one I meet with for lunch sometimes, and he said that his son also goes to the same school as you and since they have a spare room, he’s offering to take you in for the year.” 

“No shit,” Steve exclaimed in response as Wanda nudged him under the table, giving him a look reminding him to keep his foul language to himself, but your dad just laughed it off.

“That means I get to stay right?” You squealed. “I don’t have to leave?”

“Yes, that’s true,” your dad confirmed. “But it’s only for the year. At the end of your school year, you can move up with me, or if everything goes really well, I’ll be back home early.” He let out a sigh of relief at seeing the way the three of your faces lit up. Ever since you were little, you, Steve and Wanda had been inseparable. You would walk to school and back home together, you would have sleepovers and every meal was spent together. Your dad felt that tearing you away from them right before you would have to separate for college anyway was cruel. 

He cleared his throat as he continued. “I know the situation isn’t ideal, and that you’ll probably miss me so so so much,” he teased. “But I know you’ll be in good hands while I’m away.” He smiled fondly at the two boys sitting around the table who were looking at you with nothing but adoration in their eyes.

The rest of dinner went by quietly. Polite talk here and there, but an overwhelming effort to avoid discussing your father’s move, which was at the end of the week, settled among the four of you. It wasn’t until after dinner, after Wanda had left to go home, that you finally got to process your feelings with Steve who stayed behind to help clean up.

“Steve, you really didn’t have to stay,” You sighed as you leaned against the counter beside him as he turned on the faucet in the sink. “I don’t mind doing the dishes.”

He gave you the same winning smile that he gave your father earlier. “Please,” he began. “It’s the least I could do… you’ve had a long day.” He cocked his eyebrow at you, reminding you of the unopened note that now lay on top of your desk in your room. “How are you feeling?”

You grabbed a dish towel, helping Steve dry the dishes he washed, not wanting to meet his eyes. “Like a salad.” Steve turned to you with a confused chuckle, waiting for you to elaborate. “Don’t laugh, Wanda taught me this. I feel so many things right now but I can’t really condense it all into one thing.”

Steve hummed thoughtfully before continuing. “Okay, well what’s the lettuce right now? The biggest thing you’re feeling.”

“Hmm…” you thought. “Sad, that my dad is leaving. I’ve never been away from him that long.” 

“Okay, what about the chicken?” You couldn’t help but let out a chuckle, appreciating the way Steve ran with your simile.

“The chicken… Happy.” You finally gave Steve a small smile. “Happy that I get to stay here with you and Wanda.”

Steve smiled back at you. “I’m happy about that too. How are we supposed to be a trio if it’s just me and Wanda?” 

You rolled your eyes playfully as you swatted his arm with the dish towel. “Steve, you and Wanda have enough personality for 13 people. I’m sure you would have found a way.”

He pouted in return, rubbing his arm where you swatted him before slipping back into a smile. “Not true, but whatever,” he relented. He was glad that the trio would remain a trio, but it got him thinking about what the future holds for the three of you. College was never really something you all had discussed in depth. Mostly just vague hypotheticals about what decorations to get for the apartment you’ll share and the kind of classes you’ll all take together. But in every future he could imagine, the three of you were always together.

After that night, the rest of the week passed by in a messy and teary blur, with Steve and Wanda coming over every day to help you pack. Well, “help” was a strong word. They mostly sat on your bed and looked through your knick knacks while asking for snacks. They were also very unhelpful at trying to convince you to “Marie Kondo” your room, as they called it.

Wanda tried convincing you that maybe you should leave your giant stuffed avocado behind, to which you adamantly argued against because she won it for you at the school carnival last year. Steve asked why you still kept your report card from fifth grade in a treasure chest, to which you responded by showing him the teacher’s notes, “Had to separate her from Steve and Wanda. They distract each other and draw pictures on their math homework. Always laughing and smiling in class :)”

Going through your whole room with them was a lot less embarrassing than you had expected, and by the end of the week, you were ready to go with only the essentials packed. Steve and Wanda came to see you off, helping your dad pack your things into the car and they each gave you a big hug before letting you go.

Your dad laughed at the scene, watching the three of you get teary eyed even though you would still see each other every day at school. But when he finally drove off and saw you looking wistfully out the window, he felt a pang in his chest and it reminded him how much he’s going to miss you as well. 

The drive was fun as it always was with your dad, but as he parked in front of a huge house in a very wealthy neighborhood, the grin on your face grew even more. The homes in this neighborhood were much bigger than your own, and you figured you should enjoy yourself while you’re here. Your dad took your hand as the two of you walked to the front door of his college buddy’s home, telling you a silly story about their adventures together in university.

“Oh, I’m so excited you get to meet him,” your dad exclaimed as he rang the bell. “I heard his son is actually in your grade, so maybe you already know him.”

You looked at your dad curiously. “What’s his name?” 

But before your dad could respond, the door swung open to reveal none other than–

“Bucky?” 

[fatuismooches]

hii, its 💌 anon coming reallll late but happy anniversary :)) i was gone for so long bc i had school and so much other things but i am back‼️ with pantalone thoughts….and dottore thoughts ofc teehee.

akademiya zandik writing reader letters but then he was like “okay no, im not that whipped (he is) i’m gonna toss it somewhere else” but he ends up keeping it in a box. fragile reader on the other hand used to always write him letters :(( and ofcourse he kept them all. they were always well decorated and had the most beautiful wiring but after reader got sick, he didnt get them anymore. the younger clones would probably make little get well soon cards while the older ones write letters and all :(. (also fits reader literally writing him a letter in the case,, yk,, they die)

meanwhile, in pantaloneland, reader and him watched barbie together!!! he wore pink and the entire shebang, probably even rented….bought an entire theater for the private viewing for the both of you. (its actually js a theater version of the barbie movie. no movies back then so…play! arlie would love it too). BUT!! he js hates ken in the middle of it. “i would never ever get rid of your barbie dream house, darling :(“ because honestly? it makes him sad. how can someone just strip things that their lover likes away just to be better? it reminded him a bit of his own bitter childhood, and because of that, he buys you even more things after <3

“pantalone, i dont need that many outfits-“

“just indulge me darling :) you’ve been with me since i was young, its only fair i return the favor”

- 💌

HI 💌 ANON! Welcome back ❤️ I hope you've been doing good and taking care of yourself!! AND AGHHH THANKS FOR YOU FOR THOUGHTS 😭🤲

ZANDIK WRITING LETTERS 😔💖 He thinks that instead of verbalizing his feelings, he can water them down and make them all professional like he does in his notes/research reports... WRONG. Within the first sentence, he looks at it and stops because wtf there's no way he's gonna continue writing this sappy shit (it wasn't even sappy he was showing that he cared about you a bit more than the average person) But you on the other hand? You don't care if you sound too emotional or sappy or in love or not. You just write what you wanna write. Zandik will scoff and make fun of you but you know he keeps all of them. Where? You don't know, but you just know.

But it's only after it's too late that he realizes how much he likes the little letters he used to receive from you. (UR EVIL FOR THAT LAST PART.) Stop now I'm thinking about bb Zandy giving you a card... he drew you two with crayons 💖

NOT PANTALONE AND YOU WATCHING BARBIE... I haven't seen it yet but I'm beyond excited to go and watch it whenever I'm able to!! Psh, he doesn't even need to buy a theater because you know he been had one for years!! But OUCH not the angst at the end ;( Ugh he literally loves and respects you so much, he can't fathom the thought of ever hurting you on purpose.

In your closet, there are two types of outfits. The ones you wear regularly, and the ones you wore only once because Pantalone makes you try on everything he buys you. Oftentimes you have to enlist your husband for help choosing outfits and accessories because you probably get overwhelmed by your closet being the size of a big bedroom 😭

[ataliagold]

WIP Word Game

Rules: You will be given a word. Share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that start with each letter of that word.

Thanks for the tag @katyawriteswhump! My word was home.

These will all be from Love Like Ghosts, as it's the only unposted stuff I've got at the moment!

___

H - He doesn’t really want to touch it, if he’s being honest, thinks he shouldn’t be putting his grime-encrusted hand anywhere near exposed fucking bone, but -

O - Once in his room, everything familiar but also not at the same time, he grabs a duffel from his wardrobe, starts stuffing it with clothes. Eddie’s rifling around in his drawers, looking for anything useful, and Steve’s about to warn him away from his bedside drawer because there’s stuff in there, there’s lube and condoms and a magazine or two that aren't exactly…straight that Steve’s sure he had even in 1983, but he almost laughs out loud instead. They’re stuck in the Upside Down, being hunted by creatures determined to kill them, and now apparently Vecna’s awake.

M - "Maybe we can reach El?”

Fox perks up at the mention of the girl, her lips curling back in almost a grin. “We like El.”

E - Eddie guides him to lean back further, keeping a steadying hand between his shoulder blades as he rinses the soap out with the other.

“There you go,” he murmurs. “All clean.”

___

This game's fun, I love it. Tagging @writing-kiki, @wynnyfryd, @finalmoondragon - if you want to play, your word is yearning!

[f1-giuki]

thank you loves @wanderingblindly and @blueballsracing for the tag!!!!! ily sorry I'm late😭💖 I'm catching up!!!

The Rules: If you're tagged, make a new post and share one or two sentences (or lines for artists) from your most recent unposted WIP with zero context.

-

“Is he in danger?” Charles asks, tapping his cigarette lightly with his thumb, a bit worried.

“I don’t think so, he’s in Salisbury, stealing a copy of the Magna Charta just to take the piss off of John Lackland, something along the lines of rot in piss, you know how Max gets about medieval kings… We have to hope the Archbishop doesn’t kill him, but other than that he’s okay… God’s calling was timely. He wanted to write porn letters to you, but turns out that all mail written while in preparation for ordained ministry is previously checked by the Archbishop, so instead of dirty talk you get me… Not a great deal, in my opinion...” Liam says, grinning.

-

tagging: @wisteriagoesvroom @amarynas @drivestraight @nyoomfruits @saviour-of-lord @souvenir116 if you want to loves💖💖

[noficbyhalves]

I'm not dead, I was just eaten by the brain weasels. Everything is fine and I really meant for this to be over 5k :/

I would also like the record to state that I did finish this last night, I just chose sleep instead of staying up til 4am formatting it and fighting with tumblr about Malik's fucking name. So my Valentine's Day one shot was toooootally on time shut up don't look at me.

In other news febuwhump is looking more like it'll be whumpril but *gestures at the length of this monstrosity* y'all can deal. (If my life is enough of a disaster maybe my brain autofilling it as whumptober will be accurate! T_T)

Anyway!

Content warning for panic attacks, implications of past abuse, light internalized homophobia, vague allusions to sexual acts, a lot of profanity, and Altaïr being horny on main

Flowers, or A First Valentine's

(or, Altaïr's biggest enemy is actually the closet in this essay I will-):

Altaïr was very careful to avoid looking at Malik when the mail appeared, or he was certain his face would give him away. He knew what was going to appear anyway, had spent a week and a half overthinking it to death. Malik may not have thought much of the holiday, but Altaïr didn't feel right doing nothing at all. He had settled on a dozen red roses - simple, tasteful, impossible to misinterpret - with a note smothered in so many layers of handwriting charms so as to make it functionally anonymous.

Thankfully a convenient distraction materialized in front of him, in the form of the rapidly growing pile of envelopes addressed to him. Altaïr was considerably less thankful the second he looked closer, realizing they were dozens and dozens of Valentine's notes. He recognized some of the handwriting - the purple one was definitely Katerina, and he noticed Rhona's loopy script, which was baffling for numerous reasons - but there were many of them that he didn't in the slightest. He gingerly pulled one open, increasingly alarmed to find a love letter as long as his arm from some lady he had never met.

Malik still hadn't said anything, which would have stressed Altaïr much more if Malik's ankle wasn't pressed against his under the table. He couldn't have still been reading the note, it was barely two sentences, and even that Altaïr had spent days agonizing over, whether it was too much or not enough. If he had tried to write something half as long as the monstrosity in his hand, he'd have given up and flung himself into the lake. He had the words on it burned into his brain:

My Vega, May your day be as bright as your smile Happy Valentine's Day - Your not-so-secret admirer

Curiosity got the better of him. He dared to glance over at Malik, and for a second everything stopped. Because Malik was looking at the note, yes, but he was also trying and failing to hide a bashful smile in his hand. There was a blush blooming on his cheeks, a sparkle in his eyes. And if Altaïr was walking on air then, the moment Malik looked up and locked eyes with him stole the very breath from his lungs. He had to bite down on his tongue until it hurt, so he didn't say something out loud where other people could hear (something like help I'm so fucking in love with you).

The words that came out of Malik's mouth were not thank you or I love you (as Altaïr's daydreams where everyone else in the great hall suddenly disappeared would have gone). Instead they were, "What in the hell?"

At which point Altaïr remembered he was, in fact, holding a letter from a crazy woman, sitting next to a pile of similarly unhinged mail. "I... this lady sent me a Valentine's... essay? I have no idea who she is." He skimmed further through the letter, but each subsequent sentence made him more uncomfortable than the last.

"Well you are a public figure, I guess. Ladies love a war hero...?" Malik trailed off in a shrug.

Altaïr winced. "She's, uh, really into me having been a Templar, actually." That part was deeply weird on multiple levels, not least of which was the interpretation that any of it had been a deliberate ideological choice, as opposed to Altaïr being backed into approximately six different corners.

"What. You're joking," Malik looked as dumbfounded as Altaïr felt. His bafflement turned to outrage when Altaïr didn't break. "Who's screening these things?"

He had an awful suspicion the answer was nobody, or at least not for anything that wasn't a death threat. Not for the first time, Altaïr was very glad they had conspired to keep Malik out of the public eye. It was bad enough with all of this addressed to only one of them. "No, apparently she wants to-" He squinted as he searched for the correct line. "-heal the wounds on my soul with the power of her love?"

The noise that came out of Malik's mouth was somewhere between a gag and a laugh. "Oh my god that's terrible. What else did she write."

"Something about wanting a summer wedding..." Altaïr adjusted the parchment so he could double check the woman's name. "I don't know who this person is, why...?"

Malik had dissolved into laughter, and it took him a few moments to compose himself. "Read the rest of it," he said, wheedling when Altaïr balked at the idea. "C'mon, give her the dramatic reading she deserves."

Altaïr opened his mouth, closed it. Considered the merits of fleeing into the woods never to return. He quite frankly didn't want to read another word of the letter, much less out loud.

Malik seemed to catch that, at least, and had switched tactics to reaching out for the letter, slightly wiggling his fingers in the please give me that thing way (rather than the wands are for amateurs way, which he was also prone to doing). His eyes were wide in an approximation of an innocent look that Altaïr knew was total bullshit, but it wasn't like he could deny Malik anything on a good day.

He sighed, and handed it over. "You do it."

Malik's expression grew gleeful (not benevolent, not by a long shot, but gleeful). He started to read but immediately choked on a laugh, trying and failing to muffle it into his elbow. "She spelled your name wrong," he wheezed.

Altaïr had noticed the writer had used his grandfather's surname instead of the one he had chosen, but hadn't thought it was that funny.

"No, look," Malik said, turning the parchment around and showing him. Sure enough, the top of the letter had Altear scrawled on it. Altaïr let out a huff of laughter.

Malik pulled the letter back and cleared his throat, beginning to read in a deeply overblown falsetto. "My dear Alteeeer Wrong-Last-Name," he said, before switching back to his normal voice, "you're not even good at being deranged and obsessive, honestly..."

Altaïr snorted. "Is that the offensive part to you?"

"It's not wrong to expect a base level of competency. If you can't trust your stalker to get your name right, who can you trust?"

Altaïr decided there was no good response to that, and tore open a different envelope.

The falsetto was back. "I am writing this letter to tell you that I am madly in love with you. I had a vision you see, months ago, foretelling that you and I are destined to be soulmates." Malik rolled his eyes, "see, this is why divination is bullshit."

"That's not how divination works," Altaïr said tiredly, pulling out what appeared to be a normal card, along with a little bag of chocolates. "What are the odds these are laced, d'you think?"

"Too high to risk it. Novice, do not."

"I wasn't going to!" He insisted. Malik gave him a doubtful look. The problem, Altaïr thought, with Malik famously being half of his impulse control, was people refusing to believe that he was capable of the other half.

They steadily worked through the pile like that, Altaïr putting anything edible directly into the baskets that vanished garbage, and Malik providing scathing commentary on the letter all the while. It helped, having Malik there, the grounding contact under the table and the reassurance that "oh, ew!" was a reasonable response to someone telling him she wanted to lick his scars what the fuck.

He had gotten down to the last few envelopes when he dared to look at the one from Rhona again. Altaïr couldn't fathom why she would write to him. He was pretty sure there was no possible combination of words that wouldn't be weird. Would an apology be better or worse than none at all?

Malik had paused, eyeing the note in his hand, but didn't say anything. He just sipped at his coffee and let Altaïr sort it out in his own head.

That, more than anything, made up Altaïr's mind. "Mal?" he said.

"Yeah?" He frowned when Altaïr held the envelope out to him. "Is that what I think it is?"

Altaïr nodded. "Can you burn this for me?"

"I'm not a fucking matchbook," he grumbled under his breath, but flicked his wrist regardless. The paper caught in an instant, flames licking up the edges. It was ash before it hit the table, vaporizing in the scorching heat that merely felt pleasantly warm against Altaïr's fingers.

***

By the time they had gotten midway through the day, Altaïr was already cracking at the seams. He couldn't make a beeline directly for the secret passageway down to the second floor, no matter how much he wanted to. Malik had been giving little pleased smiles (pointedly at the flowers, not at him) all through class and making his heart flutter every time. If he couldn't get a second alone to kiss his fucking boyfriend, Altaïr was going to go insane.

Malik caught on anyway, steering away from the main stairs without Altaïr having to say a word. He was talking about the Runes essay he had due later that week in a way that was clearly intended to be space filler, so Altaïr let the words fade into comforting white noise. He made affirmative noises at the right times, used to the steady rise and fall of Malik's tone as he more-or-less monologued.

By the time they reached the tapestry hiding the entrance, the hallway had emptied around them. Altaïr dared to reach out and grab Malik's hand. The bright smile Malik turned on him when he threaded their fingers together made his heart skip in his chest. He sped up, towing Malik along behind him, shoving the tapestry aside with more force than necessary.

 "Slow down!" Malik laughed.

The lack of light in the passage left him briefly blinded, operating mostly on muscle memory to pull Malik forward without running into a wall. If they had twenty feet or so of distance, they'd be hidden enough and Altaïr could finally kiss him.

When his vision adjusted, he froze. Just ahead of them in the corridor (twenty feet from the entrance that's enough space not to get caught) were two other students - a boy and a girl, a couple years younger than them - locked at the lips. He dropped Malik's hand like it had burned him, and he must have made some sort of noise because they suddenly sprang apart, staring at him.

Oh fuck they had seen them. Anyone could have seen. Other people used this passage. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.

"So much for that shortcut," he distantly heard Malik huff, through the ringing in his ears. There was a hand tugging at his elbow, pulling him back out into the sunlight. "C'mon Altaïr, don't be a creep."

Anyone could have seen them. Altaïr would've been too wrapped up in Malik to notice. How many times had he closed his eyes in hidden corridors, trusting that they were alone?

His head was full of static. Everything was too loud but indistinct and blurry. Malik was talking but he couldn't make out the words. He dug his fingers into the fabric of his robes. It didn't help. The only solid thing in the world was Malik's steadfast grip on his arm, tugging him forward.

They could've seen anything. Altaïr kissing Malik, fuck, Altaïr on his knees. Everyone would know, his grandfather would find out. A blasting hex would be the least of his worries, with a stain on the family name like that-

"Oi, habibi!"

Altaïr startled. They had stopped walking, and Malik was snapping his fingers in front of Altaïr's face, looking at him with poorly disguised concern. The floor was swaying beneath him, shit they were on one of the moving staircases how the hell had they gotten there. He surreptitiously glanced around them, at all the other people on the landings and other flights of stairs. "Don't say that here!" he hissed.

"Unless half the school became fluent in Arabic overnight, I think we're fine," Malik said dryly.

Altaïr blinked. On second thought, fair. The tone of voice Malik had used was more in tune with calling him shithead than darling (though with Malik the line between insult and term of endearment had always been very thin).

"Are you okay?" Malik asked, stepping back to a more respectable distance.

Altaïr clutched onto the banister as the stairs began to pivot. He didn't want to lie to Malik, but the weight of the proverbial gaze of the entire school kept him from admitting just how shaken he felt. He settled for a wobbly so-so gesture and whatever the hell his face was doing.

"I can spin Berg some excuse if you need to go back to the dorm."

The offer was tempting, but he knew Malik couldn't join him if Altaïr didn't want anyone to suspect anything, especially not today of all days. Sitting alone with his thoughts for a few hours would probably be a bad idea right now, at least going to Alchemy would give him something to do with his hands. "No," he cleared his throat. "No, I'm good."

Malik's flat look clearly expressed his doubt on that front. "Am I going to regret handing you a knife?"

"I'm fine, Malik. I'm not going to cut off a finger."

Malik's face contorted as he tried to fight a smile. "You're not funny, novice."

***

Alchemy helped, for the most part. With a little breathing space, his panic felt slightly ridiculous (his grandfather had been dead for months, he wasn't sure why his brain had jumped to that). No one had stumbled across the two of them, or there would have been rumours or gossip or worse. Instead, Katerina was trying to bat her eyelashes at him from across the room, looking rather like she had been hit with a twitching jinx, while he was struggling not to stare too blatantly at Malik.

The heat and humidity in the Alchemy classroom worked unfairly well for him. With his sleeve pushed up and his hair mussed and his dark eyes focused intently on wandlessly adjusting the flame beneath their cauldron, he looked a bit like if a fire elemental had a ridiculously gorgeous human form. Altaïr, in comparison, felt a bit like a drowned rat. (A drowned rat that really should be paying more attention to the herbs he was mincing; if he actually injured himself, Malik would be pissed and worried and also would never ever let him live it down.)

Malik straightened, content with the temperature, and reached past Altaïr to write something down. Malik had been the dedicated notetaker in Alchemy for basically forever - for a myriad of reasons, including but not limited to the weird language of symbols he used to delineate changes in fire spells that only made sense to him, his handwriting was generally neater, and the fact that Altaïr never remembered to bring pencils instead of quills on Alchemy days. The problem was that he was so close Altaïr could feel the heat of him, and on any other day that would only be mildly distracting. On any other day Altaïr wouldn't feel quite as flayed open, equal parts desperate for contact and terrified of being too close. It just wasn't fair.

"Those, then the moth wings, then the gold dust. Ninety seconds between each of them," Malik muttered, reading out of the textbook. It snapped Altaïr back to the task at hand.

He frowned. "Shouldn't that be gold dust first? For stabilization?"

"Quote-" Malik flipped a few pages. "Nicholas Flamel, goddammit, gold dust is last."

Altaïr knew the rant that was brewing there quite well - he internally called it the "you idiots have trains (why is progress scary to you)" rant, after a particularly inspired rendition several years ago. Malik probably had three or four multi-hour lectures worth of content for it in his back pocket at all times. As entertaining as it usually was, Altaïr was still puzzling out the gold dust thing. "No, shush," he said, running back through the contents of their cauldron in his head.

The look Malik leveled him with would have caught a lesser man's hair on fire. Altaïr was more than willing to blame the heat in his cheeks on that. (It was, on occasion, reassuring that his taste in women was not so diametrically different from his attraction to Malik. This was not one of those times.)

"It shouldn't mess up the xanthosization, if anything it'll give us a wider window. Three minutes, maybe four?" Now that Altaïr thought about it, they could probably rework the whole recipe, cut the brewing time, maybe improve the potency?

"Makes sense," Malik said, jolting him out of his scheming. He dropped the bag of gold dust next to Altaïr's hand, where he hadn't realized he started drumming his fingers against the table.

Altaïr glanced up at Berg, who was standing across the room, scowling at another student's cauldron, and not paying them any attention whatsoever. Perfect.

"Don't fuck up," Malik said in an undertone, as he scattered the gold dust into the steaming liquid. The slight curl of his smile belied the severity of his words.

"Gee, thanks." Altaïr thought he did remarkably well at keeping his voice even, though Malik would probably be the only one who would notice. It took all of his concentration not to fumble into an overpour, with the way his heart was hammering. Malik was moving over to his right, grabbing the herbs, leaning into Altaïr's shoulder as he did. He was so close, Altaïr could slide an arm around his waist and hold him. Maybe if he was quick, no one would notice him kissing Malik's cheek. Maybe they could-

Maybe he needed to add the moth wings.

Malik plucked the stirring stick out of his hand when he did, taking over now that he was empty-handed. Altaïr could see his pinky twitch as the fire beneath the cauldron grew steadily, until the elixir was hot enough to bubble merrily.

They had half an hour or so until the filtration step, which left them sprawled in the chairs around their clean workstation. Malik had pulled out the project notebook and, based on the runes scrawled all over the pages, was trying to sort out the last set of enchantments for the map. Altaïr was tilted back in his chair, twisting his sash over his fingers since Rosa had glared at him when he was audibly tapping a few minutes ago. (And wasn't that interesting, how when it was Rosa it was just kind of uncomfortable, but when it was Malik it made him want to- nope.)

He had counted the number of cracks in this part of the ceiling months ago, and though he had a History essay he could be editing he deeply did not want to. He couldn't really help Malik - while Altaïr could probably pass a Runes exam based solely on several years of listening to Malik chattering about it, that didn't mean he could make heads or tails of whatever hellish combination of that and numerology that Malik had been beating his head against for months. Something about a youclid and a quantum whatsit? It made his head hurt, was the point. And trying also ran the risk of someone noticing the amount of enamored staring he would inevitably devolve into once he stopped being able to say anything meaningful.

Their elixir had been getting bluer by the minute but wasn't done yet. Which left looking blankly around the room, avoiding making eye contact with Berg lest he decide Altaïr looked too bored and made him grade essays or something. No one was doing much of anything interesting, only one other pair hadn't gotten to the simmering stage yet, but they weren't messing up in any interesting ways. Katerina had been distracted by her brewing partner, at least, so she wasn't trying to convince him to... canoodle with her or something. Whatever that couple in the corner was doing whenever Berg wasn't looking directly at them - Altaïr was not going to examine them closely enough to check. Though, speaking of-

"Hey, Malik?"

Malik glanced up at him, twirling his pencil around in his hand.

"Why didn't you tell off those kids, in the corridor?"

It took a couple blinks for Malik to catch where his train of thought had wandered. "It would be a pretty futile endeavor? I mean it is Valentines," he said, as if Altaïr were particularly oblivious. As if he hadn't been the reason for the flowers tucked into Malik's bag, as if seeing every couple in the castle didn't feel like they were flaunting it in Altaïr's face, as if it didn't make him want to scream. "They'd just go make out somewhere else." He shrugged.

Wasn't that the point? Altaïr thought but could not say. It wasn't like kicking them out would have stopped him from spiraling, but at least away from prying eyes Malik could have held him. "It's definitely not allowed, though," he said petulantly.

"They weren't doing any harm," Malik's tone softened. He flicked his gaze deliberately over to his schoolbag, with the roses peeking out from where they sat just inside the flap.

And Altaïr knew that logically. They hadn't set out to hurt him, to mess with his brain. They were not unlike the two of them, looking for a safe place away from prying eyes, and clever enough to know at least a couple secret passages. If Altaïr hadn't been so in his own head they probably could have just passed each other in the dark, not a notable encounter in the slightest.

"Besides," the corners of Malik's mouth tipped up ever so slightly, "I'd be a massive hypocrite if I did."

Altaïr was very glad for the roaring flames masking the flush in his cheeks.

***

The rest of the day dragged on. When they finally made it back to the dormitory that evening, Altaïr could barely wait for the door to be shut before he was pushing Malik up against it to kiss him. Malik breathed a laugh into his mouth and tugged him closer, draping his arm around Altaïr's shoulders. He tasted like sunshine, like warmth and fire and home.

Altaïr only broke the kiss when air became an issue, leaning back just far enough to notice Malik's breathless grin. He was sure it was mirrored on his own face.

"Holding that in all day, were you?"

"Yeah," he croaked. His cheeks heated with the heady mix of embarrassment and arousal he found all-too-common around Malik.

And he knew it was his own fault, that there was a very simple solution to this problem. If the idea didn't scare him so badly, they could have spent the whole day hand in hand, sneaking kisses in alcoves without caring if others knew.

Malik didn't bring it up at least, despite the easy opening to mock him. He just kissed Altaïr again, slow and deep, stealing the breath from his lungs. One of his hands slid down Malik's torso to clutch at his hip, his fingers fitting into place like they belonged there. Like his hands were crafted to fit Malik, and vice versa.

The idea of soulmates had seemed silly from the mouth (quill?) of a stranger that morning. It seemed a little bit less so now. Soul magic didn't work like that (he knew in excruciating detail how little it worked like that), but Altaïr knew without a shadow of a doubt that Malik would be the other half of him if it did. He felt more calm than he had all day, having wasted the morning tying himself up in knots over the flowers.

Speaking of... "They were okay? They weren't..." too much not enough somehow both. He asked, when they separated again.

It took Malik a few seconds to catch up. "Oh, the flowers." He smiled. "They were very sweet. Thoroughly unnecessary, but sweet."

Altaïr blinked. "Unnecessary?"

Malik let go of his shoulder to cradle his face. "You don't need to give me flowers to keep me, habibi. I'm already here." He kissed Altaïr's nose.

"That's not, I don't..." he trailed off, struggling to phrase the feeling that had been clanging around his head the whole week. Malik waited for him, held him tight and didn't bat an eye when the implication of his gaze became too much and Altaïr had to bury his face in Malik's shoulder. "...I just, I want to do more than just necessary. I want to do this right, I guess?"

"So which phase of doing it right is breaking blood curses, exactly? In case it comes up," Malik said. Altaïr couldn't see his face from this angle, but he could perfectly picture his shit-eating grin.

He jabbed Malik in the side, making him twitch and curse at him. "You know what I mean," Altaïr grumbled.

"I can't say I do, actually."

"Maliiiiiik," he whined.

"Should I expect a candlelight dinner and rose petals next year?"

Altaïr snickered, but he couldn't help but get stuck on that thought. It felt a little crazy, talking about next year as something attainable. Making plans with the expectation that the world wouldn't burn down in the interim, and there being an actual chance of being right. "...Yeah," he mumbled into Malik's jaw, "next year."

"Novice, that was a joke, don't-"

"Too late"

"Altaïr-"

"'M gonna romance the shit out of you." It was starting to take form in his head, an image of when they'd have their own space and he wouldn't have to smother his feelings outside these four walls.

Malik let out a massive sigh and let his head thunk back against the door. "Why do I have a feeling I'll regret this."

Altaïr pulled back so he could kiss him again. "Because you're being melodramatic?" he teased.

"Rude. Also, hypocrite."

"I have never once acted like flower petals were the end of the world."

"They're not the end of the world, I'll just genuinely be annoyed with you if you fling them around."

Altaïr squinted at him, attempting to make sense of that logic. Malik was deeply opinionated, sure, but there was usually at least some amount of internal consistency in those opinions. For the life of him, Altaïr could not parse how rose petals were that meaningfully different from roses themselves.

Maybe it was another don't treat me like a girl thing? But that missed the point, that when Altaïr imagined a nebulous future, a place that he shared with someone, where the idea of scattering rose petals on their bed felt indulgent instead of fake and performative, there had only ever been Malik in that image. (Truthfully, even just the idea of sharing a bed with someone long-term had been only Malik in his head for an embarrassingly long time.) "...what?"

"It's messy, and wasteful, for something that looks nice for what? Thirty seconds?"

"I... magic? You're a fucking wizard, Malik, come on." Malik's insistence on ignoring magic as a solution still blindsided him sometimes.

"That's still wasteful!"

"How?!" Altaïr fished his wand out of this sleeve to better make his point... somehow, and realized halfway through that nothing was stopping him from demonstrating right that moment. Unfortunately, Malik could read him like a book and immediately made a grab for it.

Any advantage Altaïr may have had by being right-handed (and therefore giving Malik fuckall for leverage), was swiftly countered by the fact that Malik had never once fought fair in his goddamn life. Malik dragged him into a truly filthy kiss, which made it difficult to focus on much of anything except Malik's tongue in his mouth, Malik's body pressed against his. Malik's fingers sunk into his hair, lightly tugging with just the right amount of pressure to make Altaïr's brain go fuzzy. A moan bubbled out of his throat, entirely against his will, as he melted into it.

Altaïr's hands fumbled of their own accord, clinging to Malik's shoulders, dragging him closer by the small of his back. He wasn't sure how exactly he could get closer, only that he needed to. That every inch of distance was unbearable, with how his blood was singing in his veins.

Malik shifted slightly, and Altaïr dimly realized he had been played when his wand was knocked out of his grip. Faced with the decision of letting it drop or letting go of Malik, he opted to pin his boyfriend harder against the door. Finding his wand - wherever it rolled after he heard it hit the floor - in the morning would be annoying, but if Malik stopped touching him Altaïr might actually die.

Altaïr pulled his lips back just a hairsbreadth, Malik nipping at him as he went. "You're an asshole," he panted.

He couldn't physically see Malik's eyeroll, but it was thoroughly implied. "Pot, cauldron." Altaïr was a bit appeased that Malik sounded just as out of breath as he did.

He kissed Malik again, just because. One kiss turned into two, turned into more, turned into Altaïr pressing his hips flush with Malik's, devouring the quiet groan that came out of his mouth. Kissing Malik was unfairly distracting. "Just because you're hot doesn't mean I'm wrong."

"If I concede to the dinner date will you shut up about the fucking petals? Oh my god." Malik growled at him.

Altaïr was tempted to ask Malik to convince him, but knew that was the kind of incentive that would make Malik turn him into a little puddle of goo on the floor. While that was a very appealing prospect, he did have a point to make. "Depends, will you let me be romantic or will you bitch about it the whole time?"

"I can multitask."

"Malik."

"Yes, fine," Malik huffed. "I will let you be as sappy as you like on this hypothetical dinner date that would require being out in public."

Altaïr watched Malik wince as his conscience caught up with his mouth. It happened more often than people thought; Altaïr did wonder sometimes whether Malik's instinct to poke and prod and needle was actually stronger than his instinct to breathe. The criticism wasn't completely out of line, though. If Altaïr had been frustrated with how the day went, it must have been eight times worse for Malik. He shrugged. "That's why it's next year," he said quietly.

"Shit, I didn't mean it like that, I'm sorry,"

Altaïr scattered kisses on his cheeks. "Don't worry about it."

"You really don't need-"

Altaïr cradled his face in both palms, looking him dead in the eyes. "Malik, I want to," he said. "I just... I can't. Right now."

Malik's gaze was so fond it made his teeth ache. "I don't want to rush you, is all."

Altaïr had no way to put it into words, that the tightrope he was fumbling across was in no way Malik's fault. That it was his own fear and chagrin that had him stuck like this, and he was so sick of being stuck. He desperately wanted to wake up one morning, forward in time to where it was all out in the open and whatever chaos that caused had blown over. "You're not," he said, glancing away, but it seemed deeply inadequate. "Besides, where would we even go right now?"

"If you take me to that awful cafe that is allegedly the height of romance, I will break up with you on the spot."

Altaïr laughed. "No, no way. I can still smell the incense in my nightmares."

"Eugh, I had forgotten about that part. Why is everything magicside like this."

"Yeah... it might have to be somewhere over the line," he admitted. Malik had been thoroughly right about it being less terrifying over there, where no one knew his name or his family or what he had done. Where he could just be Malik's boyfriend Altaïr, one person in a sea of strangers. "But I'll get there, by next year. Promise."

Malik smiled at him so softly, brushed his fingers over Altaïr's cheek. If he kept looking at Altaïr like that he was going to break in half. He looked like he was about to say something, was deliberately choosing how to say it best, which with Malik usually only took milliseconds.

Altaïr had a pretty strong suspicion of what it could be, and headed it off at the pass the second Malik opened his mouth. "If you say 'I don't have to' one more time I swear to Merlin I'll-"

Malik's snort of laughter cut him off. "I was going to say I love you, birdbrain."

"Oh." Altaïr could feel the heat flood his cheeks.

"Yeah, oh." Malik pressed a kiss to his jaw, then another. "You going to finish that threat?"

Altaïr, who hadn't really planned the end of that sentence even as it was coming out of his own mouth, shrugged.

"I mean... you don't have to finish it..." Malik said.

At which point Altaïr had no choice but bodily picking him up - ignoring Malik's startled squawk and flailing of limbs - and crossing the room to toss him onto the bed.

"I feel very discouraged, bravo." Malik's tone was undercut by his barely suppressed giddy laughter. "Get over here."

And when he tugged Altaïr down on the bed with him, Altaïr couldn't say he minded in the slightest.

[parmahamlarrie]

can you give me a list of established relationship

This is my dream ask, tbh. According to my notes, it's over 30% of what I read. Listed some of my favorites below (excluded A/B/O, girl direction, anything too heavily kinky, and anything under 5k so if you'd like a list of those, let me know).

dusted in gold Series || frenchkiss || 100k Model Harry, Make Up Artist Louis Harry’s an A-list supermodel, Louis’s his make-up artist boyfriend. They’re something of a dream team.

Down to our bare feet || frenchkiss || 71.5k Disabled Louis, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Angst Breaking his neck and becoming wheelchair-bound for the rest of his life was never part of Louis Tomlinson's long term plan. No, he was going to make it big in his career, marry the man of his dreams, and live his best life each and every day. That is, until a football injury leaves him paralysed from the neck down, which is less than ideal, he must admit. The story of an ordinary couple living through extraordinary circumstances, featuring wheelchairs, home renovations, intensive rehab, fighting, laughter, tears, ring shopping, and above all, two boys determined to love each other no matter what.

Why Am I Doing This Again? || @berzerkshires || 31.3k Famous/Non Famous, Interview Format, Older H&L AU: It's been 37 years since Louis Tomlinson met the famous Harry Styles. In 2056, Harry has officially announced his retirement with one last request from his management team: a three part documentary. The crew comes to Louis & Harry's house to film an interview with Louis about Harry and their relationship. And Louis still doesn't understand why he's a part of it.

secrets don't make friends || @thedevilinmybrain || 30.2k College AU, 5 Times, Fluff and Smut What an absolute rollercoaster of a fic. I started this fest thinking I was going to write something else, then I panicked, and I wrote this instead. I hope it's as good as my original prompt.  Firstly, thank you so much to Aria. This is my love letter to you. My smutty, kinky, love letter of our friendship. To the one brain we share by some cosmic connection. You always support my deep dive into how dirty can I make this and get away with it and give me the best feedback. I could not have done any of this without you.  And Hannah, babe, you literally are an angel. Always coming in to save my fucking life by agreeing to beta 30k in one night! When we both were exhausted and you did such an great job. Especially because I can't spell for shit. Thanks you, baby. I appreciate you so much. Also, thank you Greta for coming up with this brilliant fest! So glad I could help out and co-mod with you. It was such a success.

Were We Ever This Young? || @letsjustsee || 17.2 Harry Potter AU, Baker Harry, Auror Louis, Flashbacks “How did it go?” he asked, still not having gotten any hints from Louis’ face.“Obviously it went amazing, Harold,” Louis said, reaching for Harry’s hand, “Was there any doubt I would smash it?”Immediately after finishing his sentence a young girl burst out of the classroom behind Louis, pushing through her peers, sobbing her eyes out. Harry and Louis both took her in, watching as she rushed through the crowd and disappeared behind the many bodies. Harry looked at Louis in confusion, about to voice his concerns before Louis cut him off.“Teenagers, am I right?” Louis said casually, “So bloody sensitive. You hungry? Let’s go.”And with that, he pulled Harry through the groups of students by his hand, Harry too shocked to utter a word.  Hogwarts AU in which Harry and Louis both return to give talks to seventh years about the 'real world' with slightly varying results. Inspired by the Chilton scene between Rory and Paris in the new Gilmore Girls.

Fugue || @canonlarry || 16.4k Amnesia, Kidfic, Famous/Non Famous, Happy Ending Harry falls asleep a 17 year-old who lives in Cheshire and is probably rockstar Louis Tomlinson's biggest fan. He wakes up 24 with a wedding ring on his finger, two kids, and Louis Tomlinson attempting to wake him up with a blow job. The doctor calls it organic retrograde amnesia, says he might never get back the last seven years of his life. The only thing that feels the same is how he feels when Louis touches him, and maybe that's enough to make him fall in love all over again.

think I'll take my chances || trackfive || 12.9k College AU, Sick Fic, Hurt/Comfort harry worries louis, louis worries harry, they both worry zayn...there's far too much worry. taking care of each other doesn't have to be a one-way street (h/c with extra hurt...and extra comfort...and extra fluff)

Feel My Love || @styleandsin || 10.4k Baker Harry, Fluff and Smut, Domesticity Reason #29: To avoid cleaning, studying, or doing work of any kind. Louis always gets things done on time, he just takes a detour along the way. The detour? Having sex with Harry. Harry never brings it up. Until he does.

Every night, I've got you in my arms ||

Shut It Down When the Time Comes || kikikryslee || 9.4k Kidfic, Teacher Louis, Architect Harry This is it, Louis thought to himself. Finally. And then a loud wail rang through their apartment. Louis stared up at Harry, who had the lube bottle in his hand, ready to pour. “What if I’m quick?” Harry asked desperately. Louis rolled his eyes as the baby’s crying only got louder. --- Or, the five times new parents Harry and Louis try to have sex, and the one time they actually do.

Hea(van) Is A Place on Earth || @insightfulinsomniac || 6.1k College AU, Car Sex, Fluff and Smut Harry turns back to him, cheeks pink and biting his lip. “There’s lots of space.” “You want us to defile Belinda?” Louis asks in sheer disbelief. “I’m kind of desperate,” he admits, eyes shining in the fluorescent glow of the campus street lamps. “And besides… Belinda doesn’t mind.” *** University students Harry and Louis want to spend some alone time together — the problem is, both of their respective roommates are fast asleep. Harry solves that problem with some blankets, a secluded parking space, and his beloved beater van, Belinda.

Gotta Have You || @styleandsin || 6k Kidfic, Valentine's Day “I’m glad I married someone that’s still down with having sex in the laundry room while our kid is in the middle of a movie and there’s ten minutes left until the dinosaur chicken nuggets have to come out of the oven,” Louis says, voice serious but a small smile on his face. “Me too,” Harry says with a laugh before getting back to his food. Louis laughs along with him until he looks down at Harry’s plate, “are you really using a fork and knife for chicken nuggets?” Harry looks up at him and the genuine judgement on his face makes him giggle. “I’m trying to be fancy! We were supposed to be going to a really nice restaurant Lou, I’m just trying to recreate the experience.” He then dips the chicken nugget into his ketchup with his fork. Or, an AU where Valentine’s Day doesn’t go according to plan but possibly turns out even more romantic

NC-17 || kikikryslee || 5.5k Public Sex, Fluff and Smut Louis took the tip of Harry’s cock between his lips and just let his tongue lap over it for a minute. He wanted to watch Harry crumble as best as he could thanks to the dark lighting in the theater. As Louis moved down another inch, Harry’s eyelids fluttered some more. Louis smiled around Harry’s cock, watching as Harry now struggled to not only keep his eyes open, but also focused on anything but the boy in his lap, not wanting to draw attention if anyone were to turn around at this moment. --- Or, the one where Louis drags Harry to a horror movie festival even though Harry is afraid of scary movies, so Louis decides to give Harry something else to focus on instead.

Battle of the Balls || @greenblueish || 5k Famous/Famous, YouTube AU, Secret Relationship “Rim of the hole, Haz, really?” he gazes at the camera again. “This is getting demonetised and honestly, rightfully so. How are we still allowed to make videos? YouTube, why don’t you just do yourself the favour and delete our channels?” “After everyone sees that I win this game though,” Harry winks, dimples still showing.  or, the one where YouTubers Harry and Louis play Golf With Friends, go to the pub with Niall and return home six hours after posting the video.

Looking for something specific? Shoot me a message!

Find my previous lists here!