#hoax is SO bloom

[sklooms]

don’t want no other shade of blue, but you

[itsgrimeytime]

feelin' flirty || Rick Grimes (TWD) x gn!reader

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker @zomb-1-egutzz

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Summary: Being a long-lost friend of Maggie's, you wind up at the prison, a line of dead walkers behind you. You are promptly confronted with one Rick Grimes, and it's suddenly your life's goal to flirt with him as much as you can. Rick doesn't usually respond, but what if one day he does?

TWs: innuendos, talk of sex, shameless (and I mean shameless) flirting, mention of both Beth and Hershel's deaths, gunshot wound, blood, guns, knives, and all things TWD.

[[A/N: Tumblr has deleted this THREE times. I am furious, hello??? Also, someone should've been hardcore flirting with Rick, I'll say it. That's what this is based on. Do I have social anxiety? Yes, but am I still writing this? I am. Don't ask questions. ALSO, I do not know the TWD timeline at all, so I am making it up, thank you. Enjoy :))) ]]

With one last stab, you finished off the last... zombie? You didn't really call them anything, since you were alone. Maybe you should think about that a little more.

Wordlessly, you turned and stabbed another square in the head. Undead? No. Zombie? No, too cliché-

Another one.

It went on like that for a few more minutes, before you took a breath -with no answer to your question. Frowning at your knife being covered in... guts, for lack of a better word, you crouched down and wiped it on the grass.

What was that, 15? You didn't really count, but you should have. You were trying to get a new personal best actually-

"Hey!"

You froze, pocketing your knife, before spinning on your heel. The voice was fairly distant, so you weren't worried. Instead, close enough for it to matter, was a big building with high walls and barbed wire at the top of them. A prison. Huh.

"Up here!" The voice called again, and you startled.

Shading your eyes from the sun, you looked up into the watchtower, and sure enough, there was a silhouette. A guy, you think, with dark hair. That was about all you could say.

"Yeah?" You called back, curiously.

"That was cool as shit!"

You laughed out, probably for the first time in months, "Thank you, mysterious stranger!"

"Glenn!" He clarified.

Huh, you pursed your lips, before responding, "Y/N!"

"Nice to meet you!"

You laughed again, before feeling a pain in your stomach. When was the last time you'd eaten? You paused, trying to think. Three days ago (there was a box of Twinkies that hadn't expired yet in a stranded supermarket). Not great.

"Hey, Glenn?" You yelled, a little hopeful.

"Yeah?"

You pursed your lips, before deciding -taking a chance, really, "You got any food in there?"

Now, you were walking through the gate, which was a little dramatic. But, you kinda liked it. It felt like you were kind of a big deal, well, until there was a swarm of eyes on you. All different kinds.

You froze, licking across your teeth.

And then, a man ran up to your side -gasping a little. Was that Glenn? How did he-

He offered his hand to shake, and you accepted it -looking at the crowd, a little defensively.

"Are they going to kill me? Or...?"

"Shit," he turned to them, "-They just want some food, guys, c'mon!"

None of them even flinched.

"I don't bite," you joked, before frowning, "-shit. That was in bad taste-"

And then, a voice called out into the tense air.

"Y/N?"

You peeked over heads, looking, because-

Your eyes locked onto hers, and you nearly jumped in place -big smile blooming along your lips, "Holy shit, Mags?!"

You'd been friends, back in high school. You'd left junior year and tried to keep in touch. It just didn't work out. (You can't even remember now if it was her or you who stopped, at this point.)

Before she could so much as reply, you ran to her -arms wide open. She eagerly reciprocated, spinning a little with the force -you'd gotten pretty good at running at this point.

"What the fuck?" You breathed into her shoulder, and she laughed big and loud, "-What are the chances?"

With a thought, you pulled back -still holding her shoulders, "Are your Dad and Beth here?"

"Yeah," she cheered, and something in you felt relieved. Thank god, they were okay.

"And, you?" She offered, a little hesitantly -notable lack at your side.

You pressed your lips together, swallowing, and shook your head, "Been alone since the beginning."

Maggie frowned, hand coming up to rest on your arm and squeezing once.

"Only lived with my boyfriend," you explained, eager to lighten the mood, "-and he actually cheated on me, so. Wasn't the worst lost."

She laughed a little, before asking -carefully, "And your family?"

Something in your chest stung, you wordlessly shook your head. (Visions of unhinged jaws and blood filling it.)

She frowned, whispering her apologies before hugging you again. You leaned into it that time.

And then, you jumped back, excited, "You have to bring me to your family, Mags, it's been so long-"

"Ya 'ave to talk to Rick first," a voice grumbled out behind you.

You spun on your heel, facing a man. Tall, brunette, dark eyes, arms crossed in front of him (strong, you noted), but you could tell in his stance. He was a layer of stone walls, and you did not want to mine.

And then, your eyes smoothed across his back. Is that a fucking crossbow? Sick.

"Whose Rick?" You asked instead, Maggie still holding your arm.

"Whose askin'?"

That, was a good voice. Was your first thought as you turned back around, and your eyes landed on a figure.

Your voice got stuck in your throat.

He was tall, stood like he owned the place (and based on the recommendation, maybe he did), all broad shoulders and strong gaze. Speaking of gaze, he had probably the bluest eyes you'd ever seen. And his hair was brown and curly, a few hung forward on his face. His jaw was unspeakable, and his button-up shirt had a few extra buttons undone to account for the heat. Holy shit.

Maggie elbowed you, and you blinked.

"Uh, me," you answered, clearing your throat -motioning to Glenn, "-he said you had some food and I'm... hungry."

Maggie promptly stomped on your toe. You pressed your lips together trying not to laugh, carefully looking over his face to see if he'd picked up on it at all. Nothing. A shame, really.

Oh well, maybe next time.

"Look, Rick," she interrupted your thoughts, "-I know 'em, really well. Y/N is a good person."

Rick's eyes dipped to you, looking you over. Oh, the words were right there on the tip of your tongue. It would be so easy-

You're trying to survive, Y/N, your mind pressed, focus.

You bit at your lip, but before you could speak for yourself, Glenn did.

"I saw 'em take on a swarm outside," he added, eyes darting to Maggie (Huh.), "-without breaking a sweat."

There are other things I can do without breaking a sweat, your brain immediately remarked, this really was too easy.

Rick seemed to think about it a second, before turning to you, "Ya got a gun?"

I'd like to be loaded with-

"No," you cleared your throat, pulling out your knife (it was one of those multicolored ones, it's why you liked it clean), "-just this."

He hummed, tilting his head with a mouth shrug, "'At's impressive."

I bet your-

You pinched your arm, swallowing, "So, what? Am I in or not?"

Rick's eyes flicked up and down you again (so easy), before he decided, "Ya can stay."

That brings you to now, sitting with Maggie outside with a can of baked beans and a spoon in your hands.

You currently had quite the view of Rick working on the farm, sweat dripping down his brow, strained arms. You'd never thought about farming in that way, but now you were.

"Is his full name Richard?" You asked, curiously.

Maggie turned to you, watching the trail of your eyes to see what you were looking at. She rolled her eyes, "I don't know."

You put a spoonful into your mouth, humming around it, "There's a reason they call them 'Dick', you know."

"Oh my god," she shoved into you -making you laugh a little. You stared down into your can.

"I'm just saying," you stressed, "-he's hot enough for it."

Maggie paused a second, before deciding to say, "His wife died."

"Shit," your smile fell.

"Died in childbirth," she continued, something distant in her eyes -you wondered what exactly it was.

"How long ago?" You asked gently, looking at him in a new light -sympathizing.

"Few months," she answered, a little shortly. You pursed your lips, debating whether to say anything. Or if you even should.

Maggie clarified, herself, "I delivered the baby. Judith, her name is Judith."

"Fuck, Mags," you fully turned to her, putting the can by your feet, "-I'm so sorry."

She took a deep breath in and out, and you wrapped an arm around her shoulders pushing her into your side, "Thanks."

"No problem," you hummed, picking your can back up and letting your eyes drift to Rick again, adding, "-I'm great with babies, you know."

"You're ridiculous," she laughed, taking the bite you offered her.

"What?" You asked, "-Staring isn't bad. He's practically a piece of art, I'm just..."

He turned to the two of you then, blue eyes flickering along your faces -you did not move your gaze at all.

Instead, you gently waved, finishing, "-admiring him."

Rick furrowed his eyebrows for a second, waving back, and then, shaking his head smiling. Count that as a win.

You gnawed at your lip a second, "Do you think he picked up on my 'hungry' thing? I was looking at him and I-"

Maggie laughed, "He definitely did. Everyone did, Y/N, you're shameless."

"It's the apocalypse," you urged, "-who gives a fuck about shame anymore? Rick is hot, and as long as he lets me, I will flirt with him. The more you resist, the more I commit. You remember James in first period?"

She hummed, "I do."

"I chased him for half a year," you continued, swirling the spoon around the can, "-and it worked, didn't it? Guys hardly get properly flattered," your eyes dipped back to him, tone going low, "-I don't mind taking on that duty for the population."

Maggie laughed again, as you just kept your eyes on him. He had dirt on his hands now, wiping at his brow, and just a few curls hung forward on his forehead. God, how did you find him in the apocalypse?

"How valiant," she deadpanned, "-You're a real hero."

"Look, just because you have a type, Glenn, and you bagged him-"

"How did you-"

"Please," you teased, "-he practically ate you earlier with his eyes. Back to my point, I, at least, get to look."

She turned to you, "Ya don't want to date him?"

"Who said that, Mags?" You smirked, turning to her with a smile with eyes that spoke for themselves.

"You know he has kids, right?" She questioned, looking at you.

"So?" you waved the spoon around in your hand, "-Single dads? Hot. Kids? Cute. Where's the loss?"

Maggie looked at you a moment, before shaking her head, "You are clinically insane."

"Maybe," you offered, still watching him, "-but the world's fucked up too. So, at least, I'm not alone."

She laughed really hard at that one, and you felt eyes all over switch to you. Blue ones too. People didn't really seem to laugh around here, so you decided that was your mission too, get people to laugh more. Maybe they could go hand-in-hand.

Time to get to work.

Daryl was sitting across from you, you'd been bugging him for the past few weeks and he'd finally relented. It wasn't easy, but you were nothing if not persistent (hence the Rick situation). Or maybe stubborn. Both? Whatever.

"Daryl, listen," you pointed out, "-you have to take time to load up the bow."

"'At don't mean nothin'," he countered.

"It does," you stressed, explaining, "-in the amount of time it takes you to put in a new arrow, I would have killed at least two."

Daryl rolled his eyes, "It doesn't take 'at long."

"Who said it takes me long to kill two walkers?"

Rick walked by then, and Daryl stopped him.

"Rick, please, take 'em away from me," he spoke out, gruff, but something in you could tell that he wasn't being serious. The guy wasn't half the mystery you expected him to be.

Rick laughed a little at the plea, eyes on you, "What are ya doin' to him?"

"It's not that bad," you laughed, explaining, "-I was just talking about if we were pit against each other to kill the most walkers in a minute. And who would win."

"An' ya want me to help decide?"

"Daryl does," you clarified, "-I am fully confident in my abilities."

Rick laughed a little (another win), "Well, I kno' Daryl's skills, so tell me yours, so it's even."

You bit at your lip, debating. God, it would be so easy. All you had to do was-

"Well," you smiled, playfully, "-I'm told I'm very good with my hands."

He blinked, and it was silent a moment before you heard a snort beside you. You immediately flung to look at him, you had just made Daryl laugh-

"No way," you stressed out, throwing yourself to your feet -pointing at him, "-you just laughed at me."

Daryl pressed his lips together into a thin line, sniffing once, "No, I didn't."

You spun to Rick, and he was already looking at you, you didn't think about it too much.

"Rick," you begged, "-c'mon. I know you and him are like... buddies, but I-"

"Buddies?" He quirked a brow, smiling. Something stirred in your stomach.

"Look, I don't fucking know," you rolled your eyes, "-just agree with me."

He bit down a smile at you, before turning to Daryl, "Ya did laugh at 'em."

"Ha," you cheered, "-I made Daryl Dixon laugh. And, I would win against you."

"He didn't say 'at," Daryl instantly defended.

"Didn't have to, Dixon," you mocked, playfully, "-it's about time management."

"Time management?" Rick questioned curiously.

"Okay, think of this, Rick," you explained, leveling him with your full focus (god he was handsome), "-when you fight with a bow, or a gun for that matter, you have to reload."

He grinned a little at you.

"Follow me, follow me," you hummed, pulling out your knife, "-when you have a physical sort of attack method, like a knife, you don't have that same time issue."

"Ya kinda do though," he interjected.

You paused, looking at him -thoughtfully, "How so?"

"Body's gotta build up energy again," he reasoned (with too much thought for this dumb conversation, smart too? god has favorites), "-Stamina is key to attackin'."

You rolled your lip in between your teeth, he had to be doing this on purpose at this point. Seriously.

"Trust me, sheriff," you spoke -a teeny bit teasing but otherwise very genuine, "-there is no problem with my stamina."

Rick bit back a laugh, turning his head to the side and smiling. You thought you saw a little red on the tips of his ears. Cute. You were unraveling the layers of one Rick Grimes, that was progress.

Daryl didn't even try to hide it that time, letting a gruff chuckle leave his lips, "'M glad I'm not your focus for 'at."

You patted his shoulder, standing up, "It'll be devastating one day, Robin Hood. Don't come crying to me when it is."

"Did ya just call me Robin Hood?"

Rick laughed at that one, head tilting up to the sky. You smiled wide.

"Look at that," you hummed, proud, "-a two for one. Which-"

They both looked at you, but you stuck to your guns. And you smirked a little.

"-honestly, I would not mind," you added -thoughtfully, "-Think about it, and get back to me."

You walked backward a few steps, watching as Rick smiled at you before turning back to fix his gaze on Daryl. Smiling at the ground, you spun on your heel, and went off to find someone else to pester.

You felt a pair of eyes follow you though, and you maybe grinned a little brighter.

Now, you were wandering off on your own. On your own run, you liked to do that sometimes. Maggie nearly had a heart attack because of it, but what damage you did get was usually minor. Except for once, but that wasn't your fault. Well it was, you smashed a window with your fist to see if you could do it. And you could, which was impressive.

Now, you were strolling through an old novelty store -little knick-knacks. Finding some figurines, you grabbed a superhero one and stashed it away. Your eyes caught on a DVD player, the kind for both music and movies, and you picked it up -turning it over in your hands. Battery powered.

On a mission to find both DVDs and some batteries, you roamed through some aisles -particularly a mug one.

Peeking through at some of them, you paused. Taking your pack off and slipping the DVD player into it (along with the few good DVDs you found, no batteries though) on top of some canned food you'd found, you zipped it up. And with a breath, grabbed a mug.

Smiling big, you made your way out of the store.

When you got back to the prison, Maggie was waiting for you -tapping her feet, anxiously. She was a little like a mother, you weren't sure how you felt about it. But you loved her so, you dealt with it.

"Hey Mags," you cheered, mug handle twisted between your fingers.

She instantly relaxed, eyes scanning you over before dropping to the mug. She frowned.

"Please, tell me-"

"I got some food," you sighed, "-I'm not entirely useless."

She pursed her lips, "And the mug?"

You grinned, holding it up for her to see -tapping your fingers along both sides. Her eyes skimmed over it before she frowned (biting back a smile, you could tell).

"Seriously?" She asked.

"What?" You responded, groaning, "-I can't get gifts?"

She shoved into your side, and before you could take too many steps, you were met with your target -leaning against the fence, few steps from Maggie. Was he waiting for you too?

"Rick," you dropping your hands, particularly to avoid him from reading the text, "-what are you doing here?"

"Ya do 'at a lot?" He asked, a little pointedly. You thought you recognized something a little like worry in it, "-Go off on your own?"

Huh.

"Yeah," you laughed a little, "-you haven't noticed? I've been getting like... half the food we have."

Rick hummed (a little in appreciation) before his eyes dropped to your hands, "And what's 'at?"

"A gift," you extended it to him, unflinchingly.

He pulled himself from his spot on the wall, walking forward and accepting it. His fingers (great fingers, really. Was that weird to say?) wrapping around it, you noticed for a second that your fingers brushed -your breath halted a little in place.

"A mug?" He asked looking at you for a second, eyebrows furrowed.

You took your hand, and spun it around in his hands -brushing his skin against yours, "The other side."

He smiled a little, laughing.

Right there on a rather plain mug, were the words '#1 HOT DAD'.

He bit back a smile, eyes peeking up at you again, "Ya really ain't gonna let 'is go, are ya?"

"Nope," you popped the 'p', before clarifying, "-unless you want me to."

Rick licked a line against his teeth, grinning a little with something in his eye, "Who said 'at?"

"Noted," you smiled back, something fluttering in your chest, "-now, where's Carl? I got him something good."

"Ya got him somethin' too?"

He was looking at you a little curiously, like he was seeing new layers of you. You kind of wanted to squirm a little at his gaze. You were not used to people figuring you out.

You sighed, quickly turning your pack to the front and unzipping it. With a breath, you dug around and pulled out the figurine -Rick's eyes caught on it immediately. A small smile creeping along his mouth.

"He told me once he liked comics," you clarified, clearing your throat, "-figured he would like this. You... You think he will?"

"He'll love it," he answered, something new in his eyes, "-C'mon, I'll take ya to him."

On the way there, he seemed to pause a moment, something on his mind. You patiently waited for him to say it.

"'Saw somethin' else in 'ere," he mindlessly remarked, as the mug swung between his fingers "-What is it?"

"Oh," you pulled your pack foward again, excited, extending the figurine to him for safekeeping (he took it with a smile), "-a DVD player."

You held it in your hands, showing to him.

"Found some DVDs, good ones," you continued, before putting it back in your bag, and accepting the figurine back (your fingers brushed again), "-no batteries though."

Rick hummed, pursing his lips like he was thinking about something. He didn't say a word though.

You didn't have much time to think about it, because a few days after that, the prison fell. You'd escaped with Rick and Carl, but you weren't exactly yourself. Not after everything.

There was Judith, and Maggie, and... and Beth and Hershel. Every day felt like there was bile turning in your stomach; every time you closed your eyes, you saw someone... someone dead.

You were lying against the grass, looking up at the stars -it was still so pretty. Despite it all, the sky was still the same. Bright and twinkly. It was when everyone was on the road, wandering for a place to go. You just couldn't sleep, so you took it upon yourself to just look at the sky. You thought the clouds might be pretty, but the night was a little breathtaking.

"Ya awake?"

You didn't say a word.

"C'mon, Y/N, I know ya are."

"Yeah, I am," you sighed, saying shortly, "-Can't sleep."

There was an echo of footsteps, and then you felt body heat beside you. There was a beat.

"Ya ain't gonna say anythin'?" Rick hummed, turning his head to face you.

You matched his eyes (he's probably more handsome now, honestly), "About what?"

"Me, ya know," he motioned, to your side, "-layin' with ya."

You laughed at him a little, before teasing, "Awe, you miss it, don't you, sheriff?"

"Not a sheriff anymore," he hummed, something a little heavy in his voice.

"Eh," you shrugged, looking back to the stars, "-you still are in my mind."

Rick smiled at you, wordlessly.

Before you added, plainly, "Mostly because I love a man in uniform."

He laughed then, big and bright, and you felt something warm in your chest that you knew but hadn't felt in a while.

You wanted to be genuine, really genuine.

"You are a good man, Rick," you turned to look at him, and he looked straight back, "-We've all done shit we never should've, and maybe it's fucked us up a little bit, moved our path in the wrong direction once or twice, but-"

You looked back up to the sky, still feeling his eyes on you. It was kind of like a dream, like the apocalypse wasn't real for a second, just you and Rick. And maybe you wanted that a lot more than you knew.

"-you've got a big heart, Rick," you finished, soundly, "-And even if sometimes you lose sight of what you're doing, or maybe who you are, that... that doesn't change."

Rick didn't say anything for a moment, words echoing out into the night air. You couldn't find it in yourself to regret them, though. You never really regret what you said these days, there was no reason too.

You really only regret what you didn't say. Maybe to people who aren't around anymore. Your heart sunk a little in your chest, but it felt a little lighter -just a smidgen. (Maybe because of who you were with.)

"I got somethin' for ya," Rick suddenly spoke, sitting up (you followed suit).

You furrowed your eyebrows, "You got me something? When?"

Mindlessly, he replied, "On the last run."

You pursed your lips but waited patiently. He moved over to his pack, unzipping one of his pockets and pulling something out -you couldn't quite see. Trying to peek you moved over a little, but nothing.

With a breath, he stood back up and waltzed over to you (somehow he made walking hot, they needed to research that), extending it forward right into your face.

You blinked, gently taking it into your hands and looking at it closely. It was dark so you couldn't really-

Batteries. He handed you a pack of AA batteries.

"No way," you laughed out, "-you remembered that?"

"I remember a lot of what ya say," he offered casually, and you felt something shoot down your spine. And with a breath, he sat right beside you, so close your knees bumped a little.

Pulling your bag over to you, you dug around in it. You'd kept the DVD player and DVDs, not really with the hope of finding batteries. But, to feel a little human, remember life before.

You'd taken to putting stickers on it when you saw any, so the top of it was covered in an assortment. You ran your fingers over it a second, taking it in, before flipping it over. Popping open the little tab, you let out a breath of relief when it was AAs.

Rick laughed.

"I was going to be so pissed if it wasn't," you spoke, "-you have no idea."

He just looked at you then, in a way you'd seen before but never really thought about. You turned back to your bag, shuffling around to find your stash.

"You want music or a movie?"

"Movie's fine," he hummed, and you still felt his eyes trained solely on you. You tried to shake it off.

"Let's see," you pulled out a few of the movies you had, showing them to Rick, "-I've got... a kid's animated movie, or... a... cheesy romcom!"

Rick stared at you, instead of the movies, before flickering to them.

Rambling, you continued, "I also picked up some horror stuff, but I... I really think that was a bad move on my part."

He laughed again, just looking at you in a way you didn't really know how to label. Or react to. You were kind of a little overwhelmed at the fact that he'd even gotten you the batteries, and then the way he was looking at you-

"Think romcom sounds good," he interrupted your thoughts, scanning over you.

"Alright," you acknowledged, putting the other ones up, and scooting back next to him -not enough to touch. It was a little awkward and you weren't sure how you were going to-

"I don't bite ya know," he quipped, laughing a little.

You turned to him, grinning, "Well maybe I do."

Rick laughed again for a moment, just looking at you. And then he extended out an arm, welcoming you into his side.

You paused a moment, before carefully guiding yourself to slot into him; the back of your head against his shoulder, and his arm wrapped around the back of your shoulders. You brought your knees up, to carefully balance the DVD player (shaped like a little laptop really). A tiny little screen for the two of you to see on. Logistically, that's why you were so close but a part of you thought a little otherwise.

"I don't," you hummed.

"What?"

"I don't bite."

He laughed a little, "Good."

"Unless you want me to-"

And the laughter that filled the night was just between you and him. And maybe in the morning, you were fast asleep on his shoulder and maybe he looked at you a little like you were the greatest thing he'd ever seen and maybe he shushed all the others just to have the moment last even a second longer.

You'd never really know.

Now, you were in Alexandria. You'd gotten Maggie back, you'd gotten Judith back. You were on a new high, and that meant two things. More pestering, and two, flirting with Rick.

You were walking through Alexandria with Maggie, just keeping her on her feet really. She wasn't super pregnant yet, and it was good to be healthy.

"I cannot believe you're pregnant," you mindlessly remarked, holding Judith close to your side.

"I have been," she retorted, "-for a while. Think ya have had time to digest it."

"But, it's like physical proof that you fucked," you commented, "-unprotected, by the way. I know you missed that sex-ed day, but seriously-"

"Carl's proof that Rick fucked," Maggie defended, eyes smoothing over him with a few of his friends.

"Well," you pursed your lips, "-I know that Rick fucked. Just on principle, he's-"

She motioned for you to zip it, "Don't start. I know you are doin' good, which is great. But it also means ya become a lil' unbearable."

"Me? Unbearable?" You turned to Judith, cooing a little, "-Can you believe the nerve of her, Jude?"

Judith smiled at you with her big brown eyes and toothless little mouth. You pinched her cheek, instinctively, "So cute."

"I still can't believe that you're in love with Ri-"

"I told you that in confidence," you interrupted, pointed.

Maggie stuck out her tongue at you and Judith laughed a little at it. Funny faces, right. You could physically see the pregnancy hormones on her face as she cooed at Judith.

You would've said something, but you had just done it yourself.

"Where's your keeper anyway?" You hummed like you'd been stuck with her (you actively searched her out).

"'E's not my keeper," she responded, sternly (mom voice, already?), "-and he's out on run, gettin' supplies."

"If he's not your keeper, how'd you know who I was talking about?"

"You are so-"

Before she could finish such a kind sentence, the two of you were interrupted. A presence waltzing up to your side.

You turned to look who, and-

Your heart lept into your throat. It was Rick, now clean-shaven, and although, you had loved the beard (don't even get you started), his jaw was on full display. Blue, blue eyes. And dipping to his clothes, he was in a damn uniform.

"Look at you, Rick," you complimented, smiling.

"'Heard ya liked a man in uniform," he smiled (a new type of way), and winked. And before you could say a word, he walked forward -past you.

You stuttered to a stop, Maggie right beside you. Blinking you turned to her, and she looked right back at you. And then you both turned to look at Rick, still walking the same way he was.

Turning back forward, you opened your mouth, "Sorry, did that just happen?"

Maggie hummed, pulling you with her, "It did."

"How did I never think of that?"

"Think of what?" She offered, as you smoothed back into a step with her.

You answered, eyebrows furrowing, "That he might flirt back."

She shrugged, "If it helps, I never thought he would."

"I am not against shoving a pregnant woman," you hissed back, with no bite. You never really had any. And you both broke into laughter, as you roamed through Alexandria.

Now, Daryl was leaning against a house as you stood beside him -pestering as always.

"No, listen," you turned to him, attentively, "-it's called fuck, marry, kill-"

"I ain't playing it with ya."

"C'mon, Daryl, it's fun, look-" you flagged down Glenn (who was carrying a box, of what, who knows?), "-Glenn, fuck, marry, kill. Michonne, Carol, and Daryl."

"Easy," he laughed, "-fuck Michonne, marry Carol, and sorry, dude, but kill Daryl."

"See?" You motioned to Glenn, as he walked forward.

"Don't ya 'ave a wife?" Daryl remarked, as Glenn moved along.

"Oh please," you shook your hand dismissively, "-it's all just fun. Just hypothetical scenarios."

"Okay, now," you started over, "-fuck, marry, kill. Deanna-"

"Kill," he answered -unflinchingly.

"See!" you cheered, "-you're getting the hang of it-"

"What are the two of ya doin'?"

You turned to see the one and only Rick Grimes, a little more worn today, which you kind of preferred, still had those bandaids on (how did he make that look hot?), and more casually dressed. In the white t-shirt, we trust.

"I'm teaching Daryl how to play fuck, marry, kill," you answered, eyes solid on him, "-obviously."

Before he could respond, Daryl chimed up, something mischievous in his eyes. You squinted at him, trying to figure it out. And then he opened his mouth.

"I got one," he spoke, a smile teasing on his lips (looking at Rick, directly), "-Y/N, Glenn, and Rosita."

You stared at the eye contact for a moment (everything was so suspicious), before asking, "What am I supposed to do with myself?"

Daryl shrugged, you bit your lip a second.

"I guess I could kill myself, big waste, but-" you paused, "-ooh, wait, I could, like, clone situation fuck myself-"

"Now, 'at would be a sight to see," a low southern drawl interrupted your words, and your voice faltered to a stop.

You turned to him, squinting at him for a second -trying to understand. All he did was wink at you again, and you hated that it made your knees a little wobbly. Especially when he was holding onto the column of the porch, and slightly leaning toward you-

"Before I was so rudely interrupted," you cleared your throat, "-I would marry Glenn, fuck Rosita, and, tragically, kill myself."

Daryl nodded his head, before motioning to Rick, "What 'bout ya?"

"Am I playin'?" He questioned, finger pointing to himself and eyes dashing to you.

"Might as well," you shrugged, "-you're already over here."

He pursed his lips a second like he was thinking, eyes particularly avoiding you, "An' I can't choose one person for two of 'em?"

You swallowed, oh, he was playing dirty.

"Nope," Daryl answered.

And then, he turned into something much softer, something more familiar, "Then, marry Y/N, fuck Rosita, and kill Glenn."

Marry?

Your heart lept into your throat, and your fingers started fidgeting with your shirt -instinctively. How the hell was he winning? I started this game-

"Thought so," Daryl responded.

And out of the corner of your eye, you saw Carol. Her eyes matched yours a second, and you tried to convey how desperate you were to get away from this very scene. Her eyebrows furrowed for a second, but then she spoke.

"Hey, Y/N! Can you come help me with the food?"

"Of course, Carol," you called back, smiling at the two of them, "-sorry, duty calls."

Rick just grinned at you then, like he knew exactly what you were doing. And you were 100% sure he did. Stupid handsome men with stupidly beautiful blue eyes. Ignoring the fact that you physically brushed against him to get off the porch, you frantically caught up to Carol.

You were in the pantry now, gathering ingredients, Carol directing you -naming them as she found them.

"So," she looked at you, "-are you gonna tell me what that was about?"

You pursed your lips, before answering, "Rick's flirting back with me."

Carol raised her eyebrows at you, "Huh."

"And I was teaching Daryl how to play fuck, marry, kill, and he-" you rapted your fingernails along one of the cans, "-and he said he'd marry me. But all... genuine and shit."

"And that's bad?"

"No, no," you shook your head, putting the can into a basket, "-It's not bad. Just... I don't know if he means it."

"You just said that he said it genuinely," Carol pointed out, grabbing another can.

"Well yeah, but-" you scrambled a moment, "-all that time ago, I was flirting genuinely. I mean even though it was playful, it was still genuine."

"And," she connected the dots, "-you're not sure if he's genuine?"

"Yeah," you skimmed along the shelves, gathering the last can she needed.

"Well," she took it from your hand, blue eyes on you softly, "-if it's worth anything, I think he's genuine. And maybe this is his way of showing how he feels about you."

You hummed, wordlessly.

"He's let you flirt with him this long," she continued, bringing a hand up to your shoulder, "-that has to mean something, doesn’t it?"

She had a point.

"Now," she adjusted the basket, "-are you actually going to help me with the food? Or was it just an excuse to run away from Rick?"

You laughed, "I'll help, I'll help. I'm not a total dick. Speaking of-"

She turned to you.

"Do you know if Rick's full name is Richard?"

It was a few weeks later, and they were filled with frustratingly blue winks. And that was one thing, but now you were being stupid. You were stupid.

You'd thought Oh, it'll be just like old times, I'll go out on a run. It'll be so nice-

And now you were walking with a gunshot would, quickly bandaged by a rip of your t-shirt and whatever you had around you. Which in whatever the hell store it was, was not a lot. All you'd managed to find was alcohol so you at least soaked the shirt.

You'd blearily walked all the way home, eyes foggy, and praying that a walker wouldn't come near you. And now you saw it, Alexandria.

"Gabriel," you called, breathlessly, "-Gabriel, please let me in."

You heard him say something but you were delirious. Maybe something with your name? Head fuzzy and eyes bleary, you were coming down from the high of getting somewhere safe. As you waltzed into Alexandria (pain in the abdomen so hot it almost felt numbing), there was a swarm of people around you immediately. Felt like you were back in the prison, when Maggie would be waiting and you think she was now.

"Hey, hey," she chanted, grabbing your face (and you could see her now), "-look at me, Y/N, tell me what the hell happened."

"Some guy, the bitch," you muttered out, a little slurred you think, "-just shot me, because he wanted the last of the damn Campbell soup, who shoots someone for Campbell soup?"

Her eyes dropped to your body, you mindlessly noted that it was sticky. Your eyes dropped too, and saw all the red -so much red.

"I think I lost a lot of blood, Mags."

"Somebody go get Rick, and the doctor, now," she shouted (loud, loud), before turning back to you, "-How the hell did you get here?"

"I walked," you answered simply.

"You walked?" She responded, hands on your shoulders, "-How did you-"

You were safe now, and everything in your body just gave out.

"Adrenaline is a hell of a drug," you hummed, laughing a little, before falling to the ground.

Your head stung from the ground, as Maggie tried to get down by your side -all pregnant belly.

"'S okay, Mags, don't-" you mumbled "-don't hurt yourself."

She frowned, and you thought she might have tears in her eyes, "I have to stay with you, Y/N, whose going to keep you awake-"

"Glenn," you called, and you saw him saunter up to your side, a little slurred, "-take care of 'er, help her sit. Don't worry, Mags, don't worry-"

You heard a slap of footsteps then, quick and brisk, and before you could wonder who, blue eyes and rough hands were guiding your face. He was starting to grow his stubble back, you mindlessly noted.

"Rick," you smiled a little fuzzily, reaching up and patting his face, "-See Mags, Rick'll take care of me."

"Hey, hey," he brought your focus to him, "-keep lookin' at me, okay?"

"Well," you slurred a little, "-'at's not very hard, sheriff."

He turned to the crowd then, voice low and gruff, "What the hell happened?"

You heard Maggie respond then, through sobs, "'Ey said that some guy shot 'em, over a... over some food."

"Didn't even ask if he could have 'em, first. Who does that-"

"Daryl," he motioned -tone low, and he immediately nodded. You watched him leave your eyesight.

Rick instead, brought your face back to him, as you recognized the doctor to be by your side, scrambling with some white stuff.

"Hey, hey, baby," he spoke, low in a whisper, "-I'm 'ere, focus on me. Look at me."

You smiled again, delirious, "You called me baby, that feels nice. Everythin' else burns-"

"I kno', I kno'," he soothed, you felt pressure on your abdomen (hissing in pain, as your eyes got more blurry), "-ya did a good job gettin' back 'ere. To where you're safe. Ya did a good job."

"Just kept walking," you slurred, "-couldn't stop. Wasn't gonna die to some asshole."

Rick laughed then a little, and you felt something a little different than pain. Your hands naturally came to his face, mindlessly rubbing your thumbs against his cheekbones. He's always been so handsome, only gets better with time.

You noticed he leaned into it a little, careful not to hurt you. Yeah, you realized, he was genuine.

God, what if you had missed out on this, with Rick? All because of some stupid can of soup-

"Rick," you started, and he looked at you a little like you held the world, you were the world maybe, "-I think I'm gonna die."

"You're not, no-" he held his hand over yours (it was so warm. Why had you never held his hand?), "-You're not gonna die, baby. You're gonna be fine."

"I'm bleeding," you breathed out, scanning over him, "-Been bleeding the whole time. You're not supposed to bleed that much, Rick."

"Ya ain't gonna die," he repeated, hands gathering your face, "-Look at me, ya ain't dyin'."

Concern clear on his face, you felt the urge to soothe, soothe, soothe-

You looked at him, eyes scanning over his face. He was handsome, yeah, but he was caring, smart, and so, so kind. You wanted to tell him that, see what he'd say. What he'd do.

"'Said that you were a good man, 'at you have a big heart," you hummed, eyes languidly blinking, "-still mean it. Don't you forget it."

He looked at you for a second, eyes flicking all over your face, before looking to the doctor. She must've said something (your ears felt stuffy) because then Rick was picking you up. He was everywhere, smell, sight. All you could feel was Rick, body heat thrumming and blooming into your side.

"Always knew you were strong," you mindlessly remarked.

You felt Rick laugh in his chest, and your eyelids were so heavy then. You slowly began blinking, your brain slowing down. Maybe you could close your eyes just for a little bit.

"Got so much to say to ya."

And then, it all faded to black.

This blanket is scratchy as hell, you mindlessly remarked. It was almost like a thin sheet, barely coating you, and you think if you moved your arms, it would make that noise that shitty bedsheets did. Why were hospital beds so bad? Shouldn't they be comfortable?

And then your nose was hit with the heavy sterilized air. You scrunched your nose up on instinct, it made your throat burn-

"Y/N? Darlin'?"

You slowly blinked your eyes open, heavy and languid; they always had those florescent lights too. How was that helpful?

"'S too fucking bright in here."

You heard him laugh a little, maybe in relief mostly, and you blearily blinked to get a look at him.

"'D turn it down for ya if I could."

You laughed a little and squinted your eyes open, laying gently on him. He looked a little worse for wear, his hair messy and shirt a little crooked. You wanted to fix his curls back in place, and your hand moved before you could stop it.

Gently, you threaded his hair back. He was a breath away from where you laid, so it wasn't too far of a reach.

Rick looked at you so softly, that the words cut off your from your lips. And with a breath, he pulled your hand down from his hair, sliding it against his cheek. Before you could say a word about it, he turned his head and gently kissed your palm.

You bit at your lip, eyes flickering over him, "How long have you been here?"

"Since the doc' allowed me to be," he answered, fidgeting with your hand -not really wanting to let go, you guessed.

"And Mags?" You asked, concern flickering through your eyes, "-Are she and the baby okay?"

"Yeah," he looked at you, a little in disbelief, "-they're alright. She was stressed, yeah, but Glenn kept 'er calm."

"And," your eyes darted to your abdomen, where your wound now hid, "-the wound?"

"Good," he replied, eyes swimming over you like he couldn't quite believe you were okay, "-Doc' says ya just need to rest, not irritate the stitches. Which I kno' will be hard for ya."

You sighed, leaning your head back onto the bed, looking up at the ceiling, "I am going to be so bored."

Rick chuckled a little, before falling suspiciously quiet. You turned to him, just to see him looking down and fidgeting with your hand -a little like he was working on saying something. You simply waited.

"'Ve been looking for those batteries since ya said ya wanted 'em," he spoke, a little quietly.

You froze, "Since the prison?"

"Yeah," he offered, "-apparently 'ey're a hot commodity."

"Why?" You questioned, looking at him curiously, "-Why all that work for some batteries?"

"Because," he hummed simply, eyes matching yours now, "-ya wanted 'em."

You pushed your lips into a thin line, the glimmer of hope sparking in your chest. Not saying a word, you just stared at him for a second; not unlike in the early days, you were just admiring him for a lot more than his (still unbelievably handsome) face.

"Y/N, I-" he started, eyes dipping back down to your hands. He seemed to pause a moment, debating.

And then he looked up at you, eyes set in his path -unflinchingly. In a sort of understanding, like everything made sense to him now. The silence was heavy until he leaned forward and brushed his hand along your cheek -carefully. It made you feel precious, and your eyes maybe got a little cloudy because of it.

"I'm in love with ya," he let out a breath, tone heavy and genuine, "-an... and the way ya blatantly hit on me but in the damn most genuine type of way."

You laughed a little and leaned gently into his palm. He looked at you in a way you couldn't label then, or maybe you could (love), and rubbed his thumb along your cheekbone.

"I didn't know how to react to it, at first," he hummed, something settled in his eyes, "-the attention ya gave me. 'S somethin' I've never dealt with before."

"Really?" You let slip past your lips, and his grin grew wide as he let his head fall and shook it, smiling at the ground.

"Even now," he laughed a little, turning his gaze up again, "-ya always said thin's like it was so easy to do. Like ya were tellin' me 'at the sun was hot."

"You did give me some pretty good set ups," you clarified, smiling at him.

"'Never meant to," he added, grinning a little in wonder, "-I couldn't think straight when ya said 'em, so I'm surprised I even did."

You hummed, eyes twinkling at him and he looked at you just a little more like he was in love. It made a spark shoot down to your toes, warmth flooding your chest.

"If it's worth anything," you spoke, a little embarrassed, "-my brain stops working when you do the fond thing."

"The fond thing?"

"It's just," you sighed, trying to articulate, "-It's a way that you look at me, or... or smile at me. When you do the soft stuff."

"What exactly is-" he hummed, gently, holding your attention like your words really mattered, "-'the soft stuff'?"

"Uh," you blew a raspberry with your lips, "-like giving me the batteries, and... and that whole conversation actually."

"Oh," he laughed a little, blue eyes twinkling, "-like I was in love with ya."

"What? No, you weren't... not that early-"

And then you looked at him.

"Shit," you marveled, "-really?"

"Like I said," he smiled at you, a little like you were cute, "-I looked for those batteries for months. For ya. An'-"

His face got a little more serious.

"-I really missed ya. 'At was probably when I first realized it."

You rolled your lip inbetween your teeth, "Yeah?"

"Ya used to make everybody laugh, and were always smilin'-" he explained, "-it wasn't even just the flirtin', it was just... I knew ya were hurtin', an' I couldn't help. Or I... I didn't know what to do to help."

You just stared.

"An' I missed ya so desperately, I just-" he let out a breath, "-It all clicked into place, and I went on 'at run, hopin' to god there were batteries-"

You laughed a little weepily, leaning into his hand.

"-because I just wanted to make ya feel better. Bring ya back to me."

"How the hell did you even find them?" You questioned, wiping at your eyes, "-It couldn't have been that lucky."

"'Wasn't," he replied simply, "-I was only supposed to do a few stores, I did the whole strip."

"God, really?" You smiled, "-For batteries?"

"No," he hummed, simply, "-for ya."

You fell quiet.

"I would do anythin' for ya," he added, voice a little breathless, "-anythin'."

"Anything?"

Rick laughed a little, grin bright, "Ya need to rest, baby."

"That's not a no," you chimed, grinning.

He looked at you a certain type of way then, "'S definitely not a no."

You felt your heart pound in your chest for a moment. That was something to look forward to. Something stirred in your stomach.

"What?" He asked, teasing, "-Ya all bark and no bite, hmm?"

"If I wasn't bedridden," you spoke flatly, "-I would kick your ass."

"Ya would," he agreed.

And you laughed, eyes smoothing over his face. Before noticing something you hadn't quite said yet.

Words fell out of your lips, "Even though you probably already know, because I've chasing you all this time-"

He smiled at you.

"-I love you too," you finished, "-if it wasn't obvious."

"'Was kinda obvious," he leveled -teasing, but something was sparkling so bright in his eyes that you didn't really mind.

"Yeah, yeah," you moved your hand dismissively, "-don't start, sheriff."

You paused for a moment, eyes dancing along the room, "Do I get to go home today?"

"No," he spoke, with a certainty that shook through your bones (this man had literally everything), "-'Need to be taken care of, so ya are stayin' wit' me until you're healed."

You blinked at him, he was doing the fond thing again. Your mind relaxed to a low hum.

"Maybe after too," he added, tone softer but not any less certain, "-if ya want."

You stared at him, wordless.

Rick blinked, looking at you, before grinning, "'At the fond thing?"

"Yeah," you cleared your throat, embarrassed, "-I don't... It's been a long time since I've been cared for. At all. And you're a very handsome man offering to-"

"Not offerin'," he clarified, eyes set on yours, "-just doin'. 'Specially now, 'cause I kno' ya love me too."

All headstrong, decisive, and certain. How was this happening to you?

"'Thought you said it was obvious?"

"It was," he hummed, grinning at you, "-I could just barely wrap my head around ya flirtin' with me. Couldn't really see it."

You thought for a second, before speaking, "Was it Daryl?"

He grinned at you, tilting his head a little, "Maybe."

"Always knew he was a big softie," you hummed, "-read him like a book when we first met. Stone layers to an ooey-gooey center."

Rick scrunched up his nose, "Ooey-gooey center?"

"Sometimes," you sighed, "-Sometimes I say stupid shit around really attractive people. It's a habit."

"'Guess 'at means you're still gonna be flirting with me?"

"As long as you want me to, sheriff," you clarified.

"So maybe forever then," he grinned and you felt your heart leap into your chest (fuck his fond things). You were totally never getting over that.

"Yeah," you hummed in agreement, "-Maybe forever then."

Mission accomplished.

[lidiasloca]

saw u write for harry potter i dont know if u do but could you write something about draco malfoy i find very little on tumblr of draco x reader thank youu

when you know, you know

draco malfoy x reader

fluff

a/n: send more request for harry potter characters pls loves

summary: a rare potion reveals Draco the name of the love of his life, and, after seeing his reaction, you are eager to know more about how he's made it (and who it is).

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It was sad being alone this very day, but you told yourself he would be back home as early as he could. 

You decided to wander through your house as you waited upon his arrival. The thought of seeing his greeting smile already made you overjoyed as you browsed through your messy room.

Your eyes stumbled upon something. It was utter boredom that gave you the urge to open your memories' trunk. It was yours and his secret trunk, filled of things that you didn’t use nor see ever, but you hold them so dear you weren’t able to let go of. 

You opened it and a small wrapped box greeted you. You remembered not seeing that before. But again, it had been a very long time. Curiosity got the best of you, and you proceeded to unwrap it gently. 

And there it was. A simple little flask. A piece of glass so ordinary to everyone. Everyone but you, him, and the walls of Hogwarts potion classroom… 

“What?!” you blurt. 

“I’m telling you, Y/N. Lena from fourth grade has made it!”

“How would a 14-year-old accomplish to make The Curious Hoax? It is known to be nearly impossible.”

Saoirse leans in, a cunning smile blooming in her face. “Exactly,” she whispers in your ear. “Nearly impossible.”

The Curious Hoax. But how?

“Students!” Professor Slughorn cuts your wondering instantly. You and the rest of the students follow his instructions, stepping into the Potions Classroom. “That’s it. Take your books. Careful, Ron!”

Lost in your thoughts, you look around. The room never seems to lose its charm. Cold and old stone walls isolate you from the warm Hogwarts you remember. It is nice, though. You’ve always appreciated the magical spell these shelves filled with all types of jars and potions have on you. 

“But how? I mean - you spoke to her, what are the steps?” you ask eagerly. The Curious Hoax had always been your priority goal since you’ve heard of it. It wasn’t only the rareness of the potion that called you to it. The reason of your interest was far more humiliating.

Your friend knows that. “Ah - you are now so interested, huh? Will you tell me why?” Saoirse asks mockingly. “Come on, let’s make a deal.”

“A deal about what?” You turn to the brusque voice next to you. 

Him, of course.

“Draco,” you say plainly, disgust running your tongue as you speak. 

But he takes no offense. The blonde boy turns to you, pride and sharpness in his piercing stare. “Y/N” You’ve never known if it’s simply the thrill of hearing your name out of his lips that sends your heartbeat to a high, or if it’s the sweetness in the tone he uses that confuses your heart. 

That is not the matter to worry about. Now, the only thing that matters is winning him.

“Oh, here they go again with the staring contest. What are you - eleven?” Saoirse asks, rolling her eyes and making Blaise chuckle. Draco turns to the joyful sound in an instant, giving a stern look to his friend. 

“You’ve lost,” you taunt with a grin once Draco turns to you. 

His eyes kill you with their intensified anger. “Shut up, Potter.”

You bite your lips, trying not to slap him. Or strangle him. 

Or poison him.

Your jaw is rigid with anger as you lock your eyes with him. It is a call to challenge. To defiance.To temptation.

“Oh, here they go again,” your friend complains. “Stop that already, Slughorn is talking.” You both ignore Saoirse. “Guys. Draco and Y/N will you please stop that.”

“Let them,” Blaise tells her teasingly. You take a mental note to gossip with Saoirse about the smoldering glace his given her. She’s been head over heels for the boy ever since you two were sorted to slithering six years ago and took a seat next to him. Him and Draco.

“You looked away,” Draco states, sneering. “You. Lose.”

You breathe deep, holding back the slap your body aches to give him. “Shut up, will you.”

“You shut up.”

“No. You shut up, Malfoy.”

“Shut up, the both of you!” Soirse yells. “You act like kids, I swear.” You watch in shock as the whole class turns to her rants. But she doesn’t seem to care as she angrily turns to Draco. “She was just asking about The Curious Hoax, because she’s spent her whole live daydreaming about the love of her life! Now shut up already!” And she stops right there, her eyes wide open, moving to find yours in instant regret as she realizes what she's confessed. “So that is that,” she mumbles, almost inaudibly.

You know you look visibly flushed as your eyes dart around, trying to hide your embarrassment. But acknowledging every set of eyes on you doesn’t help one bit. 

But what certainly doesn’t help is the obscurity in Draco’s face. “Ah, well - what an even more pathetic thing you turn to be.”

“Watch your mouth,” your friend barks in your defense.

“What? She can be this stupid, but I can’t comment on it?” he says. There’s still in his face a darkness you can’t quite understand. He is not being mean for mere rudeness. He is truly angry. But why for? 

You feel chocked up, your eyes on the verge of tears. No words in your personal defense seem to escape the chains of your throat. 

But someone unexpected is there for you. “Mr. Malfoy,” Slughorn says in a scolding voice. “What is exactly so pathetic in the will to make such an extraordinary potion? A potion that could reveal the one true love of the maker. Could you explain to the whole class, please?”

Draco is silent, anger with a hint of humiliation in his stupid face. 

“No?” the professor asks, monetarily turning to give you a friendly wink. You smile slightly, the pressure of before, now less crushing. “Then I take you appreciate its value all the same as your classmate, Y/N?”

“I-” the boy starts, but is quickly interrupted.

“Very well. Then, I have great news for you.” He turns to the class and adds, “Today, Mr. Malfoy will be the first to try it.”

Said boy swallows audibly. “Try what?” he hurries to ask. 

“Why - Making The Curious Hoax, of course,” he says evidently. 

“But-”

“Great! First, go take the cherry leafs…” 

… 

It’s been about ten minutes of Draco following obediently every Slughorn instruction in front of the class. A bit of ‘take this, put this, mix that’ and now, “The final step…” the professor said, happiness irradiating from him as a result of his love for this subject. 

You don’t know what surprised you more. How okay, even happy, Draco is with doing this, or that the potion is simple as this. You were told only a few people had succeeded in making it, but there he was Draco, one last step from making it.

You wonder, is he nervous? Excited to know who is the love of his life? 

You are. Of course, not for who is his love. Of course. You are nervous to find out yours.

“I must tell you,” Slughorn says to all. “The last step may seem frustrating to the ones who reach with their hand for the top of the mountain, yet happen to be farther than what they had expected.”

You watch Draco sight at the professor’s enigmatic words. The truth is, you had been watching him very carefully. It is not often that he was concentrated enough to not pay attention to your curious eyes set on him. And it is quite an opportunity and relief to be free to watch him from afar with no mean words coming your way. 

It is simply a relief to look at him, so lost in his inner world. 

“What is the last step, professor Slughorn?” the Weasley boy asks.

“Well,” he replies absentmindedly. “Once the ingredients are mixed, you must write on an ordinary piece of paper the name of the love of your life. Who you think it is. Only the correct answer will lead to the making of the potion.”

Surprised and disappointment fill the classroom and your heart.

“I don’t understand,” you say. “Then the potion makes no sense: You must know the very same thing you want to learn from the potion. If you knew already who the love of your life is, you wouldn’t need the potion in the first place.”

“Exactly.” Slughorn gives you a knowing smile. “The curious Hoax, Ms. Y/N. It is a hoax.”

You look around confused, but stop when you find his eyes on you. Draco immediately looks away, flushed, almost hiding from you.

Could today’s class turn out more odd?

“Then what’s the stupid point in making it?” Blaise asks. 

You realize Draco hasn’t said a word in complaint yet, which is shocking. Is he really interested in knowing his true love?

“Well, even being conscious about this last step, many wizards have spent years trying to make it, trying name after name, and the one’s that have made it claim that the potion is worth everything.”

“Professor,” your friend says. “I’ve heard that if you drink the Potion once it changes color, you will see your happiest memory with your love.”

“That I've heard before - yes. But I fear you shall check it for yourselves. Now, everyone around a table! You know the steps.”

“We are all going to try to make The Curious Hoax?” Ron asks in disbelief.

“Yes, of course, Ron, or do you expect to find out by me telling you who she is?” Slughorn asks playfully as he glances visibly to the girl next to Ron. Nor him or the now blushed girl, Hermione, miss that look. 

Everyone takes place and starts with the making. You try to keep some distance, but your curiosity makes you pick a spot on the table close to Draco. He seems determined to not look your way.

You don’t give much thought to that. The priority now is succeeding in this. You’ve always wanted to know who the love of your life is. Now you have the answer right in front of you. 

The little cauldron is almost entirely filled, every ingredient you’ve meticulously thrown into and mixed have now given their results. But not the ultimate result. The potion must turn blue to indicate it is well. And it will only turn blue if you throw into it the correct name.

Of all the people who could be, how on earth would you be able to guess. You realize soon, it will be impossible to make the potion go blu-

“Look! Draco’s made it! His potion’s turned blue!”

What.

You quickly look up to him. But he’s already staring your way. Eyes wide open in surprise, just like yours. Of course, guessing who his love is must have left him crazy. Making one of the most difficult potions must have left him crazy. 

This time, not like the others, his eyes don’t move. Like your staring games, he’s just there., looking at you as if the world around him was no more. 

“Very well done, Mr. Malfoy!” Slughorn congratulates. “Great! Great.” He grabs a simple little flask and starts puting the potion inside carefully. “And… here you go. Consider yourself a very lucky boy, Draco. Not many in this world will have the opportunity to visit their happiest memory as you do.” And he hands the flask to the boy.

But his eyes are still on you. And yours are still on him.

Eventually, the whispers of surprise and disbelief of your classmates subside, and you chose to seize the calmness to walk to him.

“How?” you ask Draco. Most of the class had given up on the Potion. You were nearly about to. “How have you done it?”

He’s oddly silent, not even looking at you. He stares at the flask in between his hands. He hadn't drunk it yet. Maybe he didn’t want to. 

“Draco,” you call, and it’s almost like pleading. At that, he moves his timid eyes to you. He is acting so weird. Was the truth of the Curious Hoax so heavy on a person?

“I just - I just did it. I wrote a name, and it worked.”

“What? Just one name?” you ask, even more shocked that what you were seconds ago. “How did you - what?”

He sighs, looking down at the flask again, gone into his inner world. 

“Draco, please. It is the thing I most want. To know it myself. To make this potion.”

He looks up, finding your eyes with such gentleness it makes your breath caught. “Y/N.” Again, that sweetness in his tone. But now, more genuine, more vulnerable. 

“What?” you persisted eagerly. “What is it, then?”

He is silent for some seconds, then he puts his flask in a pocket of his uniform and moves to leave. You swiftly grab his arm before he’s able to. 

He says no word as he turns to look at your hand touching his skin. He says nothing as he absentmindedly lifts his hand up to yours, and almost like in a tender caress, traces its knuckles. It’s different from any touch you’ve felt.

Then he closes his fingers over the back of your hand and pulls it gently away. He doesn’t let it go as he takes a step closer to you. He is so close. So close. You watch his dark pupils, realizing you have no need to give a step back. Only an urge to take one closer. But you would be too close. 

You feel his warm breath before he closes his mouth, as if he was trying to suppress words trying to get out of his lips.

So you try to push him. “Tell me,” you whisper, and it’s so tender and soft it seems to convenience him.

“Y/N…”

He doesn’t continue, so you plead,” Please. Tell me, Draco.”

“I just knew exactly what to write on that paper.”

“But how?” you question.

His lips curved into a timid smile. Never had you seen him so… you don’t even have words to describe it. 

“You just know, Y/N.”

“Draco…” you start, still not satisfied with the ambiguous answer.

“When you know, you know.”

And then he manages to smoothly slip away from you, walking away. But then he stops and turns.

“Y/N?”

“What?” you say, trying to understand his odd behavior. Trying to understand the smile on his face. 

“Please, tell me when you know. Don’t keep me waiting for too long.”

Tears run through your cheeks once the memories flow back to that little flask. That day. This flask. Draco.

Draco.

“You’ve found it,” your husband says, and you quickly turn to him. 

Draco is at the door of your bedroom, staring at you as if waiting for your reaction. The flask, it was his birthday present to you. 

“And here I was, thinking you would never find it there,” he tries to joke, but you clearly see he is nervous.

“Draco…” you whisper, but you are not able to form words. So you run to hug him. He catches you, firm arms wrapping around your waist. “My love, I’m so sorry. I’ve ruined your surprise," you mumble.

“So do you like it, love? And no, you did not ruin anything.” 

“Like it?” You move to look at him, making him see in your face how grateful you are. How much you love him. “Draco it’s perfect. You - you’ve kept it all these years.”

He smiles sweetly. “Y/N, that potion. When I drank it - I saw this. You and me, today. I saw myself holding you just like this, watching your beautiful face like you were the only thing in this world. I saw that when I was at a terrible point in my life, and it gave me strength to keep going. Seeing your eyes watching me as if you loved me, it told me life was worth living, it told me great things were to come. You were to come.”

Tears well in your eyes again at his words. “I was already there, remember?” you joke, grinning despite your wet cheeks. 

Draco smiles lovingly as he wipes your tears. “I remember, my love. You were always there, and I always knew - somewhere in my heart, I always knew it was you.”

-Chacters by J K Rowling

This is not proofread yet, but i wanted to post itttt. now lets talk: IVE JUST WRITTEN MY FIRT DRACO FIC WHAAAAT. im so happy, and expecting to write more harry potter characters yeees. plsss send more requests for harry potter, speacialy for short fics :) hope you like this one, and the rest to come. loveyaa.

[foxy-eva]

Hi

I was wondering if you had any spencer Reid fics with reader who doesn’t work for the BAU

Thank you

Yes of course! Most of my fics are non-BAU!Reader or don't specify their job. Here's a little selection for you.

Heart Language: Spencer has a crush on his doctor (and the feeling is mutual)

Cowboy Like Me: Spencer fulfills his wife’s childhood dream

Safekeeping: Spencer is there to protect Reader when a situation gets out of hand. 

Pretty Boy: Seeing how Spencer would do anything to make their daughter smile never fails to warm his wife’s heart

Reflections: The kindness Spencer Reid shows to a child seems to impress Reader a little too much

Summer Nights: Summer may come to an end but the kisses Spencer Reid shares with Reader will not

Side by Side: Spencer Reid is mesmerized by Reader on their first date and is surprised that she apparently feels the same way about him

Sleepy Golden Storm: Reader and Spencer Reid enjoy some morning cuddles

Forever Has A Nice Ring To It: When Spencer Reid finally finds the courage to express his love for Reader, both of them realize that forever has a nice ring to it

The Only Hoax I Believe In: Spencer Reid struggles with his addiction after prison until Reader is determined to help him, no matter the cost

NSFW under the cut, minors DNI!

26 Things (series): 4-part series about Spencer Reid helping Reader check off everything on her bucket list - even the explicit things

In Full Bloom: A random interaction between Spencer Reid and Reader leads to weeks of longing and yearning until they decide they have spent enough time being strangers

Second Time’s a Charm: Back in college Spencer Reid and Reader left many things unsaid. Years later they give it another try.

Slippery Slope: Spencer slips in the shower, his roommate comes to the rescue

Novelty: Spencer guides Reader through a night full of firsts

Call Me: Spencer discovers new ways to feel close to his girlfriend while working on a case

Sunday Morning: Spencer really enjoys Sunday mornings with his girlfriend

Daring & Decent: After getting teased about his girlfriend’s profession, Spencer feels insecure and needs her to show him that he is everything she needs

Movie Night: Spencer didn’t know that having a movie night was a synonym for having a make-out session with Reader but he sure didn’t mind

Summer in the City: Having a roommate who decided it was too hot to wear clothes suddenly made the heatwave much more tolerable for Spencer

Ever Expanding: Spencer and his wife decide it’s time to expand their family

Closer: When Spencer Reid comes home after being gone for too long he and Reader can’t wait to feel each other as close as possible

Washed Away: Spencer Reid knows exactly how to help Reader unwind after a stressful day

Duet: Letting the love of his life get away was Spencer’s biggest regret, so he decides to go after her

Find my general MASTERLIST here

Still looking for more? Check out @imagining-in-the-margins Collection for non-BAU!Reader fics!

[wingedhallows]

I'll be fine; sirius black

pairing: marauders (sirius idk ) x reader | 1.6k words plot: betrayel has consequences, in most cases, revenge prompt: "I'll be fine" authors note: this is the happier version of ( i won't make it, love ) requested by the lovely @arwensloanebarnes , i hope you somewhat like it :)

navigation | sad ending

The alleway was dimly lit, the ground wet from prior rainfall. Your hands were shoved into the pockets of your jacket, your right hand rested on your wand. Atreus held the map out for you, finger resting on top of an apartment complex around the corner.

“They might hide right here.” He mumbled, you nodded and looked ahead.

Atreus was one weird individual but he was nice, he didn’t ask too many questions and he made efforts to hold a conversation. Sirius was against the mission, he had begged Albus to swap Atreus with him, wanting to stay by your side. You had assured him to check in once in a while, the paper bird rested in your pocket, ready to be sent.

“We’ll go soon, Firewhiskey’s on me tonight-” Atreus didn’t have a chance to finish what he had said as he suddenly dropped to the ground, eyes wide, dead.

With a gasp you whipped around, wand tightly grasped in your hand. “Atreus!” You whispered. Before you stood a Death Eater, his face masked and..and.. you had to squint. To convince yourself that your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you, but in front of you stood one of your friends, a member of the order,

Peter Pettigrew.

“Peter?” A sick cold feeling spread in your chest, betrayal cursing through your veins as you realized. He had been the rat, the spy who cost so many of your friends lifes.

All those years you spent being friends, laughing together, drinking your sorrows away together, all those years of friendship were a hoax, a lie. “What the fuck?” You whispered as you unbeknownst  to you, lowered your wand.

“Peter, w-what-”You have to understand, Y/N, there was no other way.” Tears formed in your eyes.

You’d die here in this alleway, you won’t ever see Sirius again. Would Harry remember you? Probably not, he’s just a baby. You raised your wand and sent a wordless spell towards Peter, sending him off his feet. His little friend jumped to the front and whipped his wand in the air.

“Confringo!” He yelled and you deflected the spell with a hast movement of your arm. “Crucio!” Peter yelled after he had gotten to his feet again, catching you off guard. Your body slammed to the ground, your elbow shattered with the sudden contact.

The pain cursed through your body like a wildfire, from the top of your head all the way to your toes. A horrific scream left your lips as you desperately tried to shake the effects of the curse.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. You were always a great friend.” Peter spoke before he grasped your head between his hands and slammed it down with as much strength as he could muster. Your eyesight wavered, the impact of your skull on the cement had surely cracked something.

A groan left you as you tried to stay awake. “Sectumsempra.” He breathed as you could feel the effect of the spell, something hot and wet bloomed in your chest. You had to get away, get to Sirius, to James and Remus to Lily and Harry. You had to live, to not die here by the hands of this traitorous rat.

With the last bit of strength left in your broken body, you grasped your wand and apparated away, away to a place Peter wouldn’t find.

You crashed onto the patio of the Potter house, the door you had hit upon impact sounded with a loud thud. You could feel the blood creeping up your throat, you choked on the liquid. You had to squint as your blood splattered everywhere.

The door swung open and all you could really hear outside of your desperate choking and heaving were a mass of voices and bodies. “Oh my god-Remus, get out the way-Lily, get a towel-No, what happened?”

Sirius and James dragged you inside, your hand swung around, desperate to get someone’s attention. Lily fell to her knees beside you, hand on your face as she tried to get some words out. Sirius had his hand on your upper body, face in a crying mess.

“What was it?” Lily tried. You choked some more blood out before you mustered a whisper. “Sectum-sectumsempra.” “There’s so much blood!” James spoke, not caring for the carpet Sirius and you had gifted them when they first moved in.

“Love, look at me-this-this…w-what happened?” He stammered, hands on your face, trying to wipe the blood from your beautiful face.

“I’ll be fine.” You whispered, Lily would know what to do. She had nodded her head as she now stood above you, wand stretched in your direction.

“Vulnera Sanetur.” She whispered in a sing song voice and suddenly all the blood that had leaked from your beaten body seemed to wander right back to where it belonged.

The blood which had crawled up your throat simmered down again, oxygen filled your lungs and for the first time in what felt like forever you went limb, the adrenaline of almost dying wearing off.

“Fuck.” You whispered. “Love.” Sirius spoke, his hands around you in a second.

“What the fuck happened?” James said after a moment of silence. “Water.” Remus was quick to leave the room and fetch you a glass. You lifted yourself off the floor, Sirius’ hand tucked under you to keep you from falling. You sat yourself down onto the couch, a sigh left your lips, you were sore.

You pushed your hand into Sirius’ pants and took out the pack of cigarettes which you just knew was always there. He didn’t protest and lit the stick for you. You had to close your eyes for a moment to enjoy the burning sensation in your lungs.

“I’ll tell you what the fuck happened.” You opened your eyes and took another drag of your cigarette. “Thank you, Moony.” Remus placed his hand on your shoulder and gave you a small smile. You chugged the contents of the glass down in one go and took another drag.

“Peter fucking Pettigrew happened.” Your friends were confused, you could see it. Their faces contorted into confusion. “That’s what i looked like as well, friends.” You took another drag from your cigarette.

“Peter is a Death Eater and he killed Atreus, tried to murder me as well.” Sirius jumped to his feet, face bewildered. “Are you sure?” He spoke, your eyebrows furrowed. “Yes, love, I’m fucking sure.” You pushed your right foot over the other and rubbed your eyebrow with your thumb in irritation.

“Peter’s the rat who has been spying on the order, that’s why so many of our missions failed, why so many of us had to die.” Lily placed a hand on your leg before she spoke.

“We have to talk to Dumbledore, this is serious.” Sirius sat himself down again, taking a drag from your cigarette before he snaked an arm around your shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to yell at you.” You nodded and placed a kiss on his cheek. “I know, it’s hard to believe that one of us is a traitor.”

-

The tension in the room could be cut by a knife, you had agreed to stay in the back, to not reveal yourself yet. “He’ll be here any minute.” You could hear Lily say, Sirius was pacing, you stood hidden behind a cabinet. Albus sat himself down.

“Calm yourselves.” He had said and the others sat down as well. Suddenly the front door opened and a disheveled Peter made his way into the kitchen, his face in a small smile.

“Hello there, friends.” He said awkwardly. You had to fight with every fiber in your body to not jump from your hiding spot and slash his throat right then and there. “What’s the matter?” He spoke before he took his coat off, a small innocent smile still decorated his face.

“Y/N didn’t return from her mission.” James said, dropping the bait. Just for a second you could catch the flash of guilt in his features before he furrowed his brows and pretended to care.

“Really? Oh my god, what if something happened?” You couldn’t take it, you weren’t as good at pretending as Peter was, without another thought you apparated right behind Peter, the gust of wind startled him. His eyes were wide as you moved to whisper into his ear.

“Liar.”

He stirred around with a gasp. You looked down on him with a sour snarl.

“Surprised, Peter?” He fell on his bottom and scrambled away from you.

“Surprised you couldn’t manage to actually kill me?” He scrambled to his feet and shook his head.

“But, but-”But, but, you tried to kill me, Peter!” You yelled before you took a step towards him. Your wand rested on his chin, his eyes squinted.

“You Death Eater rat.” 

Albus rose from his seat and spoke. “We indeed have a rat in our circles.” He paused to push your wand from his throat. Sirius was by your side, his face contorted in anger.

“Show us your forearm, Peter.” Peter tried to protest before James and Remus moved to hold him still, Lily pushed up his sleeve and with close to no surprise it was decorated with the dark mark.

“Why, Peter?” Sirius spoke, face in a painful expression.

“So many of us had to die pointless deaths, for what? Your friends had to die, to endure torture and for what?” He yelled, you held his arm to not have him attack the rat. Peter shook his head and his lips contorted in a pained snarl.

“You’re all fools, the Dark Lord's ways are the only ways.”

Albus didn’t falter for long before he had Peter taken away to Azkaban, to not harm any more of the members, his friends.

[auras-moonstone]

masterlist !

—something different bloomed writing in my room !

series !

mad woman (gf!ethan landry x gf!fem!reader)

part one; part two; part three; part four ; part five ; part six ; epilogue

one shots !

jack champion

freudian slip (jack champion x actress!fem!reader)

is it too soon? (jack champion x fem!reader)

i’m only me when i’m with you (jack champion x actress!fem!reader)

it’s golden, like daylight (jack champion x swiftie!fem!reader)

enchanted to meet you (jack champion x interviewer!fem!reader)

lost in translation (jack champion x actress!fem!reader)

i’m so chill, but you make me jealous (jack champion x fem!reader)

your love is a secret (jack champion x singer!fem!reader)

you belong with me (jack champion x fem!reader)

i know i miss you (jack champion x fem!reader)

the tower at midnight (jack champion x shy!fem!reader)

frustrating, intoxicating, complicated (jack champion x actress!fem!reader

feel the glamour in pink (jack champion x fem!reader)

locked up in your arms (jack champion x streamer!fem!reader)

the best day with you (jack champion x fem!reader)

break me like a promise (jack champion x actress!fem!reader, louis partridge x fem!reader)

‘tis the damn season (jack champion x fem!reader)

foolish one (jack champion x fem!reader)

sweet nothing (jack champion x fem!reader)

happy birthday (jack champion x fem!reader)

friendship bracelets (jack champion x singer!fem!reader)

under the mistletoe (jack champion x fem!reader)

from friends to this (jack champion x actress!fem!reader)

the one (jack champion x interviewer!fem!reader)

slut (jack champion x actress!fem!reader)

ethan landry

i can see you (camp counselor!ethan landry x camp counselor!fem!reader)

august part two (hockey player!ethan landry x fem!reader)

i know places (nerd!ethan landry x cheerleader!fem!reader)

better than revenge (ethan landry x fem!reader)

hits different (ethan landry x fem!reader)

hell is when i fight with you (ethan landry x fem!reader)

bad idea, right? (ethan landry x fem!reader)

my tears ricochet (gf!ethan landry x fem!reader)

you’re my best friend (ethan landry x fem!reader)

forget about the heartbreaks (ethan landry x fem!reader)

snow on the beach (ethan landry x fem!reader)

want to know you better (camp counselor!ethan landry x camp counselor!fem!reader)

glitch (barista!ethan landry x barista!fem!reader)

hoax (gf!ethan landry x fem!reader)

let the games begin (slytherin!ethan landry x hufflepuff!fem!reader)

high infidelity (ethan landry x fem!reader)

how you get the girl (hockey player!ethan landry x fem!reader)

speak now (slytherin!ethan landry x slytherin!fem!reader)

delicate (non-gf!ethan landry x fem!reader)

everything has changed (hockey player!ethan landry x figure skater!fem!reader

back to december (ethan landry x fem!reader)

getaway car (gf!ethan landry x gf!fem!reader)

invisible string (slytherin!ethan landry x ravenclaw!fem!reader)

the story of us (spider-man!ethan landry x fem!reader)

been here all along (ethan landry x fem!reader)

i want your midnights (ethan landry x fem!reader)

stars around my scars (ethan landry x fem!reader)

say don’t go (hockey player!ethan landry x fem!reader)

you are in love (ethan landry x fem!reader)

passionate as sin (camp counselor! ethan landry x camp counselor!fem!reader)

big cake, happy birthday (ethan landry x fem!reader)

putting roots in my dreamland (florist!ethan landry x princess!fem!reader)

don’t blame me for what you made me do (gf!ethan landry x gf!carpenter!reader)

all you had to do was stay (hockey player!ethan landry x fem!reader)

screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain (ethan landry x fem!reader)

the water’s rough but this love is ours (ethan landry x meeks martin!fem!reader)

guilty as sin? (step brother!ethan landry x step sister!fem!reader)

kiss you in a crowded room (hockey player!ethan landry x fem!reader)

sparking up my darkest night (cowboy!ethan landry x pop star!fem!reader)

[theoutcastrogue]

Tom of Bedlam

[by Daniel P. Mason, M.D. | American Journal of Psychiatry, Volume 171, Number 12, December 2014]

Illustration of a 17th-century broadside, featuring a malingering beggar, set “to the tune of Tom of Bedlam” (from Euing Ballad number 55)

In Shakespeare’s tragedy King Lear, the King—betrayed by his daughters, bereft of his kingdom—sets off across the heath in a fit of rage. In a forlorn hovel, he encounters a curious character. Half-naked, his face “grimed with filth,” the man introduces himself as

Poor Tom; that eats the swimming frog, the toad, the tadpole, the wall-newt and the water; that in the fury of his heart, when the foul fiend rages, eats cow-dung for sallets; swallows the old rat and the ditch-dog; drinks the green mantle of the standing pool; who is whipped from tithing to tithing, and stock-punished, and imprisoned….

Lear cannot know that Tom, with his wild appetites, hallucinations, and tales of persecution is, in fact, Edgar, son of the Earl of Gloucester. Falsely accused of plotting against his father, Edgar has also fled to the heath, disguised as a “Bedlam beggar.” The conversation that ensues between the two madmen—one feigned, one real— is one of the most dizzying and psychiatrically rich in a play famously brimming with madness in its many forms.

Who then was this “Tom of Bedlam,” featured so prominently on the title page of the first quarto edition of the play? To begin, while Shakespeare may have been Tom’s most famous champion, Tom was not the Bard’s invention. Less a man, than many, Tom was a familiar folkloric “type” well known to 17th-century audiences: a “lunatick” vagabond who claimed to have been released from the notorious London asylum of St. Mary of Bethlehem (Bedlam).

“Claimed,” here, is key. For the earliest references to the figure of Tom are not as madmen but as malingering beggars. In other words, Edgar, rather than just playing a madman, was playing a man playing a madman. First appearing in the printer John Awdeley’s 1561 Fraternitye of Vacabondes, a compendium of Elizabethan beggar types, “poor Tom” was described as one who “walketh bare armed, and bare legged, and faineth him selfe mad”. Later “rogue encyclopedias” listed him among such deceptive vagabonds as “whipjackes” (fake shipwrecked sailors) and “priggers of prauncers” (horse thieves). By the 17th century Tom was familiar enough as to be recognizable by his “long staff, and a cow or ox-horn by his side; his cloathing fantastic and ridiculous... decked and dressed all over with robins [ribbons], feathers, cuttings of cloth”.

No one knows how many flesh-and-blood Toms were wandering the countryside by the time Shakespeare cast him as Edgar’s disguise. But few could have come from the institution itself: Saint Mary of Bethlehem in those decades housed fewer than 30 patients at a time. And yet so many beggars claimed to have been released from Bedlam that in 1675 the overseers of the hospital placed an advertisement in the London Gazette disclaiming the hoaxes.

With the end of the Civil Wars, Tom of Bedlam was said to have disappeared from English highways. By then, however, he had been immortalized, not only by Shakespeare, but in a proliferation of popular songs. There was “Loving Mad Tom” and “The Vagabond” and “To find my Tom of Bedlam.” Some became so famous that other songs could be published with the simple direction “to be sung to the tune of Tom of Bedlam”.

Of all the Mad Tom songs, one in particular stands out: “From the Hagg and Hungry Goblin,” an anonymous piece transcribed around 1615, now surviving in a single manuscript in the British Museum. In it we find Tom, recently released from Bedlam (or claiming so), begging for alms as he travels alone:

With a host of furious fancies Whereof I am commander, With a burning spear and a horse of air, To the wilderness I wander.

The song, quoted by Poe, Kipling, and Scott, was praised by the critic Harold Bloom for a “visionary perspective only rarely achieved in poetic history”. The poet Sir Robert Graves even suggested it was written by Shakespeare himself.

Or perhaps Tom never really vanished, but instead lives in those who have inherited his itinerancy. For, with this remarkable character, Shakespeare also created a mirror for today’s troubled wanderers, pursued by their own “foul fiends.” In them we find Tom’s many-layered complexity: at times seeking pity, at times refusing it, at times threatening, at times forlorn, at times arresting with their colorful clothes and speech. At times mad, at times playing madder: “knights,” as one Mad Tom put it, “of ghosts and shadows.”

[source]

[hollywoodxwhore]

Mine | Chapter One

Colson x Original Female Character

A new series for y'all because this man has me on my kneeeeees. No idea how many parts it's going to be.

Synopsis: Presley may look sinful on the outside, but deep down, she's innocent, guarded, and terrified of intimacy. Colson, on the other hand, is living up to his womanizer reputation as a way to cope with heartbreak. When his new guitarist invites his twin sister to join them on tour, Colson discovers that he's actually capable of feeling. Will Presley and Colson be able to push past all of the barriers trying to prevent them from happening?

Chapter One Warnings/Content: swearing, a little bit of smut, col being a cocky fucker

Hope y'all enjoy! I've had so much fun writing this.

Presley

I have a confession to make. 

I was a Machine Gun Kelly hater back in the day. 

It’s true. I believed everything the media said, and why would I have challenged it? From what I knew, his music sucked. He was a total asshole. He was a womanizer. He was a poser who switched genres.

Looking back, I’m ashamed of myself for being a follower. I wasted a lot of time judging someone I didn’t know. 

I would probably still be a hater if it wasn’t for my twin brother, Cash. 

Cash and I were raised by music-loving parents (if you couldn’t tell by our names). We grew up playing instruments and going to shows. Cash and I got our first tattoos on our 16th birthday, and by the time we were 19, I already had a full sleeve and Cash had a neck tat. We’ve continued to collect ink ever since, and now that we’re 23, we’re both pretty covered. 

We have an impressive collection of piercings, too. We both have our nostrils pierced, though he wears two rings and I wear a stud because of my septum piercing. Cash’s lip is pierced and both of our ears are full of piercings. I have my belly button and nipples. It’s been fun growing up with such accepting parents. 

We’ve both spent lots of time pursuing art in some way or another. I play guitar and sing in a few local bands, but it’s nothing serious. I prefer body art, and that’s why I’m a piercer. I pierce at a tattoo shop in the city and make bank. People in this hipster city love their piercings. 

Cash and I are best friends. We run in the same friend group and spend a lot of time together. We had our rows as kids, but we’ve always gotten along and been super close. So when he got the opportunity of a lifetime, I was hugely supportive, even though it broke me knowing I wouldn’t be able to see him every day anymore. 

About six months ago, someone reached out to Cash through his Instagram. He has tons of followers and he’s a super talented guitarist. The guy who messaged Cash happened to be none other than Machine Gun Kelly himself. He wanted Cash to be a part of their band and tour with them. 

We were sure it was a hoax, even though it was his official account messaging Cash. We thought it was too good to be true until Colson — MGK’s real name, by the way — passed Cash’s number to his management, and the very next day, Cash had a Zoom meeting set up to meet with Colson and management.

Cash was so serious about it that he wouldn’t let me sit in on the meeting, no matter how silent I promised to be and no matter how many times I assured him that I wouldn’t be on camera. I had to settle for listening through the door. I couldn’t hear much, but I knew it was a positive meeting. 

13 days later, Cash packed his stuff and flew to LA to meet up with the band. The band itself is called Machine Gun Kelly, even though the lead singer/rapper goes by that name. It doesn’t make much sense to me, but whatever. 

As soon as Cash was gone and I found myself lonely as hell, I decided to check out MGK’s music. The longer I sat and listened, the more pissed off I became with myself for having deprived myself of such good music for so long. I started with Tickets to My Downfall and then got hooked on Hotel Diablo. I ventured to Bloom, Lace Up, General Admission, and then onto songs you could only find on YouTube. 

Bottom line: I was obsessed. 

Well, let’s not get dramatic. I fell in love with the music and developed a crush on the very man I’d hated just a month before. And I felt like an asshole for it. I still do. 

I miss Cash a ton. But his life is amazing now. He’s traveling with a hugely famous band, gaining followers every single show, and better yet, he gets along with the guys great. There’s Colson, of course, and then Rook, the drummer. Baze plays the bass and Slim does a lot of keyboard and sound stuff. Justin plays guitar alongside Cash, and Colson plays, too. They party a ton, but they also go out to eat, take trips together, and hang out constantly. I’ve never heard Cash so happy when we talk on the phone. 

I’ve had a shitty day. Clients were dicks, especially the guy who wanted a Prince Albert and got a little excited during the piercing process. If that wasn’t bad enough, he hit on me before one of my tattoo artists came in and dragged him out of the shop. The encounter left me feeling shaky, and by the time I get into my apartment, my hands are a trembling mess. 

I sigh and toss my keys into their designated bowl, then kick off my Doc Martens, trudging to the kitchen. I grab a Mountain Dew from the fridge and find my weed pen on the counter, taking a long pull until I cough out a huge puff. I’ll feel better very soon. 

After changing into comfortable clothes and washing off my makeup, my black hair tossed into a bun, I curl up on the couch with a stupid scary movie. Almost immediately, my phone lights up with a FaceTime from Cash.

I answer the call and there’s his grinning face. I don’t think we look much alike. I have my mom’s raven hair and he has our dad’s blonde curls that he wears long on top and short on the sides and in back. My jade green eyes are the opposite of his chocolaty brown ones, so dark they’re almost black. We do have the same dimples, though.

“Hey, Cash,” I greet.

“Pres!” He says happily, and I can’t help but smile. “You good, sis?”

I shrug, smiling weakly. “Rough day at work.”

Normally he’d ask, but he’s clearly not calling to chat. He has news. I can see the excitement all over his face. “Fuck that,” he says. “Can you take some time off?”

My brow arches. “For what?”

“I want you to come visit!” He says. “Ride on the tour bus with us. Come to a few shows. I miss you and everyone wants to meet you.”

My stomach flips. “Wait, seriously?” I ask warily. “The band and management are okay with this?”

“Kells suggested it!” Cash replies, eyes wide with joy. Kells — MGK, Colson. A man of many names, apparently. 

I’m still skeptical. “I don’t want to impose,” I say. I’m not fun enough to hang with them. It may appear that way based on my career and the fact that I play live music, but I’m boring. All I want to do is smoke weed and maybe go out to eat. I don’t really like to drink and big crowds make me anxious. 

“You wouldn’t, I swear,” Cash continues, still trying to convince me. 

“Cash…” I bite down on my lip. “I don’t know.”

Cash turns his head and talks to someone but I miss what he says. My brow furrows, and then the phone is being passed. I swear to god I stop breathing when my brother’s face disappears and Colson’s takes its place.

God. This man has no business being as hot as he is. His bone structure is unreal. In another life, he could be a successful model. He’s got the height and the body for it. Covered in tattoos and piercings, he matches my vibe. His hair is bleach blonde and messy, currently, so long it almost covers his eyes until he flicks it away and pushes it back, rings glinting on his long fingers. Christ.

“Hey, Presley,” he greets like we’re old friends.”

“Um, hi,” I say after a moment. How could Cash just throw me onto FaceTime with Colson fucking Baker?! Cash doesn’t know about my crush, but still, he’s a big celebrity. I needed more time to prepare.

“What Cash isn’t saying is that it’s non-negotiable. You’re coming,” he says casually. “We’re going to be in Detroit next Saturday and you can just join us then.” 

“My job—”

“Cash already told me it’s easy for you to take time off,” Colson interrupts. Dammit, Cash.

“Well, tell Cash that not all of us are famous rockstars like he is and that some of us still have rent to pay,” I say, loud enough for Cash to hear.

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Colson says. “Cash already paid for your next three months’ rent.”

I blink. “Cash David Carver,” I say, tone clipped. “What the hell?”

Cash’s face pops in as he throws an arm around Colson’s shoulders with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Gotta take care of my little sister,” he explains.

“You’re 12 minutes older than me,” I say through gritted teeth. 

“Still,” Cash says annoyingly. “Come on, Pres, come see me.”

I sigh. I don’t have to worry about rent for three months. Cash was right, it’s easy to take time off. It means the other piercer gets way more hours and makes more money. I’ve been there for long enough that I can do pretty much whatever I want. I chew on my lip.

“Fine,” I say, and Cash cheers. Colson smiles, and fuck, what an adorable smile. Crinkly eyes and all. 

“We’ll see you next Saturday,” Cash says. “Maybe get a friend to drive you. We’ll get you both backstage passes and tickets for the show.”

Holy hell.

“Okay,” I say, head still spinning. I can’t even believe this is real.

“Alright, we gotta go. Love you, Pres,” Cash says.

“Looking forward to meeting you,” Colson says.

“Yeah, me too,” I say. “Love you, too, Cashy. See you soon.”

The FaceTime ends and I’m left sitting on my couch, knowing that in less than two weeks, I’ll be riding on Machine Gun Kelly’s tour bus. I’ll be at shows. It occurs to me that my wardrobe is not good for the paparazzi pictures in which I very well may appear. 

I need to go shopping. 

I need to mentally prepare.

Somehow. 

Colson

“Daddy!” Her voice is almost a shriek and I smirk around the gum in my mouth as I go harder, bringing a hand down onto her ass as I do. God, she sounds like a fucking pornstar, the way she’s moaning and crying over my dick. I’m sure some of it is for show, but the way she’s clenching ain’t fake. 

“Fuck,” I mutter lowly, grabbing her hips for leverage as I fuck her harder, feeling myself start to get close. 

“Oh fuck, Kells!” Her back arches and her pussy seizes me as she comes, ass pressing back. Feeling her lose it gets me, too, and with a curse, I come, too. 

Once I catch my breath, I pull out and get rid of the condom. Panting, she pulls her panties back up and shoves her skirt down. She tries to fix her hair, but it’s a damn mess, and there’s mascara smeared on her cheek and her lipstick is pretty much everywhere but her lips. It’s definitely on my dick, that I know for sure. 

I button my jeans and smirk at her, reaching a hand out to help her up. She smiles shyly and I lead the way out of my bunk and into the main space of the tour bus. 

“We gotta take off soon,” I explain, bending to kiss her cheek. “It’s been fun, Sabrina.”

Her blonde brows furrow. “Savannah,” she says flatly.

“Shit. Sorry,” I say, giving her my brightest smile. It works. She smiles, too, batting her eyelashes.

“Goodnight, Kells,” she says, fluttering her fingers in a wave as she steps off the bus.

“Goddamn, aren’t you tired?” I turn around to see Cash and Rook on the couch, grinning proudly. Cash’s question has me considering.

“Yeah. I am,” I admit, reaching into the mini fridge for a bottle of water. I plop into one of the cushy chairs and prop my feet on the table. “That’s life, though, boys.”

Rook snorts and Cash smirks as he takes a sip of his beer. I love the kid. I’m glad he’s on tour with us. He’s fucking sick on the guitar and he gets along great with all of us. He’s always down for a good time and he’s a great wingman. I think it’s those damn dimples and the curly blonde hair. 

My mind flashes to Cash’s twin sister, Presley. From what I’ve seen in pictures, she looks nothing like Cash. Her hair is black and her eyes are a piercing green. She’s tatted and pierced like him, and though she’s not as tall as he is at 6’2”, she still has legs that go on for miles. She’s hot as fuck, and I’m excited she’s going to be joining the tour for a bit.

As if Cash is reading my mind, he brings her up. “I can’t wait for Pres to join us. She’s my best fucking friend, man.”

“I can’t imagine having a sister,” I say. “Especially a twin.”

“Is that telepathy shit legit?” Rook asks between puffs off a joint. 

Cash plucks the joint from his fingers and takes a long drag before passing it to me. The smoke is sweet as it fills my lungs, and I follow up the first hit with another until my head tingles. 

“Yeah,” he admits, nodding. “I got in a car crash when we were in high school. Broke my leg and needed stitches in my forehead. Presley had no idea but she left school with a raging headache and a limp.”

“No fucking way,” I say. “Seriously?”

“It’s crazy,” he says. “That’s kind of why I’m glad she’s coming. I can tell she’s not doing so hot.”

I frown, not liking the way his words make my stomach hurt a little. I don’t even know this chick. I shouldn’t really care. But she’s my friend’s sister, so I guess it makes sense. “What’s wrong? Shitty boyfriend?” I ask.

Cash barks such a loud laugh that Rook and I both freeze, looking at him like he’s crazy. “Sorry,” he says, chuckling and shaking his head. “Pres has never had a boyfriend.”

“How?” I blurt before I can stop myself. I clear my throat. “I mean, she’s hot. Respectfully,” I add.

Cash chuckles. “Guys want her. They’re all over her,” he says, and I notice the way his hand tightens protectively on the armrest. “She doesn’t want any of them. We tell each other everything, but she doesn’t date. Dunno why.”

“Hm,” I reply. Interesting. I don’t date either, but I do fuck. Maybe his sister is the same way. Good news for me, if so. 

“So on that note,” Cash says. “She’s off limits. No hitting on my sister.”

I’m visibly disappointed and Cash narrows his eyes at me. “I mean it, Kells.”

I hold up my hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. Loud and clear.”

“But what if she hits on me first,” Rook asks, and when Cash swats him, he cackles. 

I sit back in the chair and take another drag off the joint. What’s the point of Cash’s sexy ass sister coming on tour if I can’t touch her? I have a feeling she’s even hotter in person. Oh well. I’ll have to deal with it. Cash is my boy and I’ll respect his wishes. 

It might be a little cocky to think she’d want me back if I made a move, but I haven’t been rejected since high school. It doesn’t happen when you’re at the place I am. Hell, I don’t even have to ask anymore. Girls, quite literally, throw themselves at me, along with their panties, bras, and even a vibrator one time. That was an interesting show. Funny as fuck watching Reed pluck it off the stage. 

I hear what Cash says, but there’s some weight to what Rook said, too. What if she wants me? Am I expected to reject her? Shit, I won’t be doing that. We’ll just have to see what happens.

XX

Our Detroit show comes on fast. It’s been a crazy week, and to be honest, I haven’t been thinking about Cash’s sister at all. There are plenty of other girls to keep me occupied. 

So when I’m backstage smoking a joint and Cash walks back with a couple of girls, I’m intrigued. I get up from the chair I’m in, but as I get closer, I recognize her. Cash’s sister. And fuck if she doesn’t take my breath away, as stupid as that sounds. 

Because holy shit. When I say Presley Carver is the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen, I’m not lying. Pictures don’t do this girl justice, and her pictures are pretty damn hot. There are those gorgeous legs beneath a short leather skirt. A tiny sliver of tanned stomach is visible beneath her shirt, a simple t-shirt tied in a knot at the bottom. Black, leather boots with a heel, making those legs even longer. Her hair is left down and straight, and I can see the green of her eyes from twenty feet away.

I basically tuck my tongue back into my mouth before snuffing the joint out and going over to say hi like a gentleman. The three of them are chatting with Ashleigh and Olivia, but Presley looks up as I come over, and for the few seconds that our eyes are locked on one another, I feel a bolt of electricity shock through me. She blinks and looks away, but there’s a little smirk on her face. 

“Cash, gonna introduce me?” I ask, putting a hand to Cash’s shoulder.

“Yeah, Kells, this is my sister, Presley,” he says.

“Nice to meet you,” Presley says, holding out a hand.

I smirk and step forward to hug her instead. “Nah, fuck that, we hug around here,” I say, noticing the way her head tucks into my neck, inhaling the smell radiating from her hair — something sweet and sugary. She smells like fucking candy and for a second, I can’t help but wonder what she tastes like.

As I pull away, Cash gives me a warning glance, but I just smile. “And this is her friend, Sadie.”

“Hi Sadie,” I say, hugging her as well. She’s cute, but she isn’t Presley Carver. No one is.

“Thanks again for being so generous,” Presley says. God, her voice is hot, too. Sultry and low, slightly raspy. She sounds like she’d be one hell of a singer. 

“No problem,” I say. “Make yourselves at home.” I need to finish my joint and take a piss before I get out onstage, and as much as I want to stay here and stare, I have shit to do. I wave and walk away. I glance over my shoulder after a few seconds and catch Presley staring. She jumps a little and immediately focuses on what Cash is saying, but she looks flustered. I notice the shape of her long black nails as she tucks her hair behind her ear and I shiver. Focus, Colson. You have a show to do.

But somehow knowing Presley is watching makes me go harder. Makes me take my shirt off and put on a good show of thrusting at my guitar. I drag my fingers down my body, grab my cock over my pants. Old Colson is coming out. The kid who used to suck tits onstage. I hadn’t realized how much I missed him. He was fun. I stopped acting that way when I met…never mind. 

I like that this girl is making me find my old self onstage. I completely give into it, and it’s my best show of the entire tour. Detroit is lucky Presley Carver is in their presence. 

After the show, I chug a full bottle of water, accepting daps and high fives and hugs backstage. I hate how my eyes are searching for her. Cash was very clear — hands off his sister. Which is such a dick move. Has he seen his sister? I mean, I know that’s his sister but he’s not blind. Right?

“Great show.” I jump a little when I hear that slightly raspy voice behind me, and when I turn around, my breath hitches. She looks even better a little sweaty from the show, black hair slightly mussed up. 

I clear my throat and put on a smirk to hide how flustered this girl has me. “Thanks. You had fun?”

“Oh, yeah,” she says, her eyes bright. “You guys put on a good show.”

I mop my face with my sweaty t-shirt and flick my hair out of my eyes. “Did you sing along to any songs?” I ask, my not-so-subtle way of figuring out whether or not she knows our music. 

Her grin is a little sly. “Maybe,” she says with a little shrug. 

My brow arches. “C’mon, you’re gonna leave a guy hanging?” I ask. I really want to know if she actually likes my music.

“Pres, quit acting mysterious,” Cash says when he steps up beside me, slinging an arm around my shoulders. “She listens to your shit. She knows all the words.”

“Cash!” Presley hisses, giving him a look. 

“What?” Cash blanches. “It’s true!” He turns to me. “As soon as I joined y’all she started listening.”

“So you didn’t listen before we kidnapped Cash?” I ask. For some reason, I like that she hasn’t always been a fan. 

She shrugs. “Not really.” Now she looks a little sheepish. “I was missing out, though.”

“You should've heard the shit she said about you when Killshot came out,” Cash adds, and when Presley stomps on his toe, he yelps. “Ow, what the fuck!”

“Cash, you’re such a dick,” she groans. She looks up at me and smiles weakly. “He’s exaggerating.”

I’m amused as fuck. All I can do is laugh. I don’t give a fuck whose side she was on when that all went down. She’s backstage at my show now, and I saw the way she looked at me earlier. She’s into me. There’s no way she’s not.

“I’m gonna go find a bathroom,” Presley mutters, shooting one last glare at Cash before she turns on her heel and stomps away. And maybe my eyes fall on her ass, the way her waist curves out into smooth hips. Cash elbows me, and now it’s my turn to yelp.

“C’mon, I was just looking!” I insist.

“Yeah, looking at my sister like you want to fuck her,” Cash says, but he’s still grinning a little. The smile fades and he clears his throat. “Look. She’s a good girl.”

A quick burst of irritation blooms in my chest. “Are you saying I’m a bad guy?”

“No!” Cash insists, eyes widening. “Not at all. She just…she’s different, Kells. And she’s my sister. I don’t want anyone taking advantage of her.”

“Taking advantage?” I blurt in outrage.

“No, Kells I — fuck.” Cash tears his hands through his messy hair. “Please.”

I sigh, the fight going out of me, and nod. “I won’t do anything,” I mutter.

“You promise?” The kid asks.

I have half a mind to make fun of him for the juvenile ass question, but I just nod. “Promise,” I sigh. Cash relaxes after that and he claps me on the back before jogging away to find some of the other guys. 

I’m annoyed now. I want a shower and something to eat. And my dick is a little bit hard in my jeans. I shift and then walk stiffly outside to the tour bus. 

Sure enough, a group of girls squeals when I come outside. They’re hanging near the tour bus and I quickly scan the group for the hottest one. There’s a cute brunette and I decide she’s the one. I approach the fence and reach for her hand. Her eyes twinkle. 

“You busy right now?” I ask.

She looks to her friend whose eyes are bugging out of her head. “Nope,” she says. 

I smirk. This will be a good distraction. Just what I need.

[umbry-fic]

Myosotis

Summary:

With a single lie, she painted a hoax from the love they held dear.

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia

Characters: Colette Brunel, Lloyd Irving

Relationships: Colette Brunel/Lloyd Irving

Rating: G

Word Count: 1641

Mirror Link: AO3

Original Post Date: 12/06/2024

Notes:

An emotional hurt no comfort fic inspired by Myosotis by M2U. (My favourite among the trilogy from Deemo.)

~~~

“Is this alright?” Lloyd asked, turning to Colette with a nervous smile. There was dirt stuck under his fingernails from planting seeds that would one day bloom into forget-me-nots, and sweat running down his face from the vicious rays of the sun, his face flushed from the exertion.

She thought that there was nothing more beautiful - always, he would catch her off guard and make her lose her train of thought as she tried to remember how to breathe. It felt like there was a thread tied around her heart that led to him, pulled taut and tugging her ever closer. She wanted to take his hand and press their palms together, she wanted, she wanted…

And she ignored the yearning that burned deep in her soul, having learned to live with it beating just under the surface of her skin. It was not something she could ever allow herself to act upon - there was nothing but a shattered heart waiting at the end of that path. Yet another lie, atop a staggering pile of them.

“It’s perfect,” she beamed, clapping her hands together. “Thanks for helping me out today.”

His smile grew until it was practically blinding, his hand reaching up and tucking a stray strand of her hair behind her ear.

She froze in place as he averted his gaze, mumbling a hurried goodbye as he scrambled to his feet and made his escape. Not a word entered her ears, the thundering sound of her racing heartbeat drowning it all out, terror freezing in her veins.

He couldn’t.

She wouldn’t let him.

~~~

The signs were everywhere, now that she was looking. The pale red dusting his cheeks when he offered her the latest charm he’d carved out of wood. His hand seeking hers out, his fingers interlacing with hers and holding on tight. His face lighting up when he spotted her coming out of the temple after a long day of praying, ready to pull her into yet another adventure.

She did her best to slowly push away his budding feelings - turning down his invitations, arranging her face into a neutral expression as she accepted his gifts, even as her heart cried out in joy - hoping beyond hope that he would simply give up.

She should have known that he wouldn’t do so easily. There had never been anyone more stubborn than him, always persistently pushing forward. It was how he’d befriended her in the first place, refusing to keep his distance from her like the adults had insisted he should. Why would this be any different?

“Colette?”

As he stepped out of the shade of the trees and approached her, cradling a single forget-me-not in trembling hands that betrayed his nerves, she wanted nothing more than to let her sorrow spill out of her. She did not want to be the one who had to cruelly break his heart. But it was better this way. Better that she should shatter his heart now so that he could pick up the pieces and swiftly move on. It mattered not that the shards of her own heart would remain trampled in his path as he left her behind. It mattered not what she felt at all.

So she prepared a perfect mask and waited by the river, hands clasped serenely before her, readying bitter words on her tongue.

“I… I, um…” He stumbled over the words clumsily leaving his mouth, ears flushed adorably red and only making the affection in her heart swell painfully, unable to be freed. “I think I…”

“Lloyd.” She stared into his russet eyes, the hope in them slowly dying as he absorbed her expression. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

I don’t feel the same way. That was what she should have said to twist the knife as much as she could in the vulnerable heart he had readily offered her, but she found that she couldn’t stomach it. The words that had left her already sliced at her throat, leaving her to paint lie after lie, dripping in blood.

She watched as his expression crumpled, as that hope died like a star’s light blinking out, leaving behind nothing but a dim flicker. He said not a word. There was no reproachful protest, no angry yell. Just a single breath shared between them in the centre of the grove, his hand tucking her favourite flower behind her ear, touch light as a ghost, before he fled into the shadows.

Leaving her to shatter, the sobs she’d been holding in breaking through the walls she’d erected like an unstoppable wave. Crouching down, she retrieved the flower he’d left behind and clutched it close to her chest, her grief swallowed by the heavy air of the forest and the jagged shards of her heart lost to the swirling river.

That night, she added him to his prayers, begging that the Goddess might watch over him, even once she had completed her sacrifice. Surely, the heavy price she had to pay would be enough to ensure that he would be saved in the new, prospering world that would be ushered in by the breaking of the final seal.

Maybe one day, he could forgive her.

~~~

“Colette?”

She should have heard him coming, but she’d been too focused on the calming patter of the rain against the stony cliffs of Hima, the noise dominating her enhanced hearing. So much so that she whirled and nearly lost her balance, his hands readily reaching out to steady her before she accidentally slipped off the cliff.

“Careful!” Lloyd chided, his brows furrowing. He didn’t remove his hands from her shoulders, and though she could no longer feel his touch anymore, it felt like she could somehow feel his warmth, slowly seeping into her.

Strands of unruly hair, drenched from the rain, fell into his face. Under the moon that hung high in the sky this late at night, he was stunning, cast in liquid silver and highlighting each water droplet that clung to his eyelashes. She ached to run her fingers through his hair, to seek comfort in his arms and never leave. She did nothing at all, remaining still as he watched her, something unknown flitting across his face before disappearing.

It had been a mistake, to leave a single forget-me-not flower on his table the night before she left, knowing he wouldn’t discover it until morning came and it was far too late. It had been a moment of weakness, brought on by her own selfish desires.

She simply hadn’t wanted to be forgotten.

When he and Genis had caught up to them, she’d wondered if she was lucky enough for him not to have found it. While he never brought it up, something had changed once more, their interactions charged with a strange energy. He was watching, watching, always watching, like he was endlessly looking for something he couldn’t find. It had taken them months to get back to a facsimile of the comfortable closeness they’d enjoyed before, and she’d thrown it all into disarray again.

Couldn’t sleep? She traced the question into his arm, finally snapping from her motionless state.

“No.” He stepped closer, making her breath catch in her throat. “You shouldn’t be out here in the rain, Colette. Even if you can’t sleep, you should be getting as much rest as you can. Tomorrow…”

His voice trailed off as he turned to look at the ivory Tower that all paths led to, its tip breaking into the Heavens. Tomorrow, she planned to venture there alone, and bring an end to this journey once and for all.

He was close enough that she could lean forward and seal his lips with hers, stealing a single breath together so painful that it would surely cause her lungs to rust. Even if she could no longer feel the warmth of his breath, could only feel the weight of her choices and the bitterness of regret, she could perhaps fool herself, for an instant, into believing that she was a normal girl, free from a web of lies that strangled her with each turn.

All she did was throw her arms around him, letting her ear rest on his chest, right above where his heart beat. The stutter of his breath and the skip of his heart both went ignored by her, who chose to hold him close. Face hidden in his clothes, she could let her true feelings show, for just this small moment in time.

She wondered if he knew, that each hug she gave him all meant goodbye. They always had. Each time she hugged him after an afternoon playing on the rolling hills, the both of them sweaty but grinning like idiots. Each time she hugged him before she left for the temple for her next session of prayers. The hug she gave him on his balcony, the light of the stars glittering above them. They were all goodbyes. But this time, there would be no see-you-again.

Go back to bed, Lloyd. I’ll go in soon. The words are written with a steady hand on his palm, her expression once more betraying nothing as she pulled away, familiar mask fixed in place.

He seemed to hesitate, something sticking to the tip of his tongue before he swallowed it, nodding. “Alright. Be sure to get some rest.” Turning on his heel, he left in the direction of the inn, his back becoming smaller and smaller until it was nothing more than a red speck that eventually vanished.

Alone, she turned her face to the night sky, letting the raindrops slide down her face. She had no tears left to cry. But if she closed her eyes, she could imagine that the rain was her tears - all the love she could never give, falling from the very Heavens itself.

[itsgrimeytime]

Magnolia in May (Part Thirty Three) || Rick Grimes (TWD) x Greene!f!reader Regency AU

Parts 1-20, 21-30, 31, 32...

Taglist: @loliakeoghan23 @curlycarley @queenie32 @mgparker @misatmosfear @crazyunsexycool

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration (in honor of Speak Now Taylor's Version): Enchanted by Taylor Swift.

Summary: Your town was small, not the smallest you knew, but anyone of high fortune was the gossip of the week. Predictably, Richard Grimes was a thing of whispers -rumors of a search for marriage among the grassy hills. You weren't one to buy into town gossip, but something about him... just seemed a little too intriguing.

TW: a little bit of happy crying.

[[A/N: girl let's tie up some loose ends!!! Thanks for reading !!! ]]

You were silently doing some of the chores around the house -day relatively passive, nothing of note. It was these kinds of days you enjoyed most, where you could simply exist, busy yourself to an extent.

So, you were doing a mix of things -at the current moment, you were hanging clothes to dry. Dress bellowing in the wind, it felt quite nice on your skin. You'd chance to later go on a walk. To where you weren't sure, but you were quite certain you'd end up at the Grimes Estate. Always did.

The chirps of birds and rustle of wind filling your ears, you were quite at peace then. Pinning up dresses and towels and father's shirts, you found comfort in the monotony. Motions fluid and practiced, a little bit like dancing.

Though, you would admit dancing was much more fun than such a chore.

Your mind lit up with balls, with music. Twirling dance partners of all sorts, you had danced with quite a few types of people. Being the eldest, everyone often asked for a dance, and being the eldest, you rarely refused.

Plus, it was quite fun dancing with all kinds of people -older, younger, richer, poorer. All types of people danced differently, and you had dabbled in quite a few. Some were funnier than others, and some were not quite as... exciting. Those were the worst, the boring ones.

Maggie quite believed that those with the least skills were the worst. But you heartily disagreed, they (in the right circumstances) can be quite fun. You'd always find something to laugh about later if a man had danced oddly. The worst ones were those with no flair, no talking, no joy.

Their technique could be flawless, each step in time, but it wouldn't be a good dance. Part of the event of dancing was the chatter, the laughter, the joyous swings with the music. Without that, the movements were rather bland and experience monotone.

You'd much rather dance with someone of lesser quality.

You supposed now though, you didn't have to worry about dancing with others. Betrothed, you had quite the built-in dance partner.

Dances with Mr. Grimes were a tedious balance, his movements fluid and practiced and the banter wonderfully produced. It was exciting, not only to be near such a man you held so dearly but to dance with someone as well socialized as himself.

He was clever, witty, and wonderful-

Perhaps, you were a little biased in retrospect. But you did truly believe that dancing with Mr. Grimes had to be one of the delights of your life. To keep such conversations going and move so eloquently to the music, was special. You were glad to be on the receiving end of it.

Although, you were quite certain that Mr. Grimes would say you were the one with such characteristics. As he always did.

"Y/N, darling," Headmistress called out, "-come here, will you?"

Grabbing the empty basket, you waltzed back up to the door -head filled with wonderous sorts of songs and the image of dancing with Mr. Grimes. You were quite smiley, as Maggie would say.

You hummed, placing the basket where it usually stayed -fidgetting with some leftover cloth, "What is it you needed, ma'am?"

Headmistress didn't say anything.

You pursed your lips, turning to face her -curiosity blooming through your chest. What your eyes met was simply not expected.

Headmistress stood there, hand outstretched with a stack of paper -you recognized the ivory. Her dress was crinkled and hair mussed, she looked quite worse for wear -there was a question on the tip of your tongue.

"I finally decided to read them, my dear," she swallowed and you could hear the clog of her nose -the redness of her cheeks to match.

With a start, you realized what she held -the letters, the invitations, from oh so long ago. Something in you had forgotten you'd given them to her to read, desperate for her to understand and forgive Mr. Grimes.

You with ease pulled the papers from her hands -fingers gently carding through them. It was such a mix of emotions to be holding them again -it brought you back to such a place of uncertainty but also at the very beginning of something so wonderful.

She sniffled, dabbing at her eye with a handkerchief, "I couldn't quite do it, at first, all that time ago. All I felt was guilt, and I believed reading these would only further that."

You merely looked at her -watching.

"I cannot express how sorry I am for my misdeeds, and though I do believe you have already forgiven me," she sighed, her voice cracked only slightly, "-I humbly ask for your forgiveness."

"Headmistress-"

"I was holding something so wonderful back from one of my own," she cried, breath biting through her lungs, "-I do not believe I can forgive myself, but I do ask you to. If you have not already."

"Headmistress," you tried to interject.

"If such a thing had ended in heartbreak," she continued, "-I would've certainly never forgiven myself. I hope you know-"

"Headmistress," you stressed, running your hands down her arms, smiling, "-please do not cry. I have long forgiven you."

She seemed to settle slightly then, something heavy lifting from her shoulders; you wondered how long she'd carried such a thing, briefly. You slid your hands down to grab hers, comforting.

"And I urge you not to think of such possibilities," you squeezed her hands, "-Mr. Grimes told me that there was no limit to his affections, and he would have waited forever had I asked him to."

Headmistress was tearing up again, but you felt that this time her reasoning was much different.

"So, even if you had postponed my reaction longer than it was," you explained, "-it is my belief that the outcome would not change."

"Oh," she laughed -a little weepy, "-the man does love you so, doesn't he?"

"Very much," you smiled, "-And I like to believe I love him just the same."

"Oh, my darling girl," Headmistress sighed, hand smoothing over your cheek, "-you are to be married so soon, and to a wonderful man, no doubt."

You leaned into her hand, watching as her eyes began to wetten, and her smile smooth across her lips -something passing through her eyes, "I shall say that I'm rather proud of you."

Your eyes began to fog up then.

"It is with no doubt that the man fell in love with just you," she echoed, rubbing her fingers along your face -looking at you like she could still see you as a child but it was now shifting, "-you need no training to be such a person. It was only a matter of time, really-"

You laughed, "Headmistress-"

"No, truly!" She hummed, a bit joyfully, "-Had you not met Mr. Grimes at the market, I'm sure you would have elsewhere. Either by mine own hand, or just within Alexandria. I believe it destiny that he loves you."

"Headmistress," you spoke, softly.

"No man loves as powerful as he does without such a reason."

It was an idea that you had been familiar with, one that Mr. Grimes had many a times expressed. He seemed ever convinced of it, that your souls were intertwined. That you were the superior one, and he was made as a compliment.

"Seeing you for the first time felt like everythin' in my life shifted, I found ya. You must understand, I was made for you."

"You existed, and the world built me off of ya. I, by some grace of God, found you."

You weren't sure you quite agreed, Rick Grimes was anything but inferior, but the sentiment was all the same. Made for each other.

You often thought back to the day you met him and the feelings therein. Sure, they were surprisingly new and you'd been drawn to him quite quickly. Something of a new, handsome presence you had never quite seen. Always wondering why Judith had chosen you of everyone within the market if it was, in fact, an act of destiny.

There was always the opinion that she saw your berries, to be frank. Or maybe you just looked safe, kind, you did get that a little bit from onlookers.

But there was something in you that said even without Judith, he would have found you.

Perhaps he would've brushed into you, stopping to apologize or maybe you'd drop something after running through the shops (lord knows your hands were often full) and he'd pick it up. There was just the rightness of you and Mr. Grimes as if your souls had been matched -crafted expertly by God.

"I may agree with you, Headmistress," you finally replied.

"You should agree with me," she spoke -frankly, "-you could ask for the most rare sort of gem and I'm certain he'd cross the ocean to find it."

That was the thing, there were no limits for Mr. Grimes, but you wouldn't ask him to pursue them. You were perfectly happy within your the life you lived, whether that was with Mr. Grimes or without.

Though without him, something would certainly feel as though it was missing.

A man willing to go as far as necessary, and a woman who only really needs him by her side. It was an odd sort of match, but you supposed anyone who asked him to reach such bounds would be rather exploitative.

Perhaps the kind that only chase the money.

You were nothing of the kind.

"You know I would not ask him to," you laughed in response, "-I'm perfectly happy with what he gifts me here."

Headmistress's eyes trailed to your basket, poised carefully on the kitchen counter, "He does give you quite quality gifts, does he not?"

You absent-mindedly trailed to it as well, eyes lingering on it -thinking back to that day with a fond smile, "He's quite mischievous in that way, all such expensive gifts are done without my knowledge, so I can't refuse them."

"Would you?" She asked curiously, "-If given the option, would you refuse them?"

You pursed your lips for a moment, thinking about such an idea. Suppose the lavender dress, had he made it personally for you under different circumstances, would you accept it? Or the basket? Or the portrait?

"I suppose not," you remarked -thoughtfully, "-He does it out of his affections, and I believe it an extension of them. I would be daft to refuse such a thing."

"So why do you refuse them, darling?"

"I... I don't know," you hummed, thinking to yourself, "-I'd guess it was something of a confidence issue. I value myself much under what Mr. Grimes tends to give me. Or-"

Headmistress listened very carefully, for once.

"Or I did," you corrected, "-I'm working on such things now. Valuing myself properly, perhaps not as high as Mr. Grimes does-"

"Oh, you'd surely believe you were god," she retorted -pompously, "-I cannot imagine anything quite higher than you in his mind."

You laughed, eyes dropping toward the table by the wall -where the letters lay. You'd set them there in your urge to calm Headmistress. Eyes lingering along each fold and expansive of ivory, your fingers reach out again and you pull them toward your chest.

And on the off chance you don't understand what I mean, I ask, from the depths of my heart, don't leave Alexandria.

Written through all of this was his very own heart extended to you, like an offering. Something so personal, vulnerable, in every single word, you remember the feeling once you realized that.

The realization that you were wrong, that it was an assumption, that he quite possibly wanted you. Did want you, if his words were to be believed. And you believed them.

I fear if I cannot explain it now then, she may never know. And I truly don't wish for it to end this way, or for it to end at all.

I will not stop trying. I can't.

And I ask that you honor that and tell your sister I am still fighting, that I have not run away. Please.

You swallowed, eyes just a little misty. It was the last letter, the one addressed to you, that you held in your hands. Your eyes flickered through the words, reading briskly. It all rang familiar.

My head is a mess as it is, but I find something clears it all when I think about you. I've never been more certain about you. I suppose I'm just afraid I don't know if you are as certain as you once were. I want you to be. I need you to be.

You smiled, a little bittersweet. Your fingers gently rubbed against the ivory -holding it like a prized possession.

You supposed it was.

"I shall intend to keep these," you hummed, briefly flickering over every written word -mindlessly you rubbed at your nose, "-They are quite emotional, but..."

Headmistress's hand found itself on your shoulder, squeezing once solidly. She roamed to your side -reading over your shoulder.

"That one," she said, a little wistfully, "'s rather desperate. A man of his status does not beg, but-"

Your fingertips traced over the ink, absent-mindedly imagining the scratch of his quill. His composure, or what you believed it to be. Was he crying? Was he desolate, desperate as she said?

"-he begged for you."

"Yes," you hummed, biting at your lip -the tears bubbling up your throat (it felt a bit like the first time you'd heard Mr. Grimes wanted to marry you, deliriously happy), "-Yes, he did. Didn't he?"

She laughed, a little weepy too -happy in her own right, "You've got quite the man in the works, my dear."

"I know," you laughed out, placing the letters back onto the table -spinning to her with a smile beyond comprehension, "-I know, Headmistress. Oh, it's just so-"

The bell in town rung, clearing through your head -you stilled.

"Is that the bell? Truly?"

Headmistress nodded -a confused look crossing her face.

"My final dress fitting!" You nearly exclaimed -eyes darting across the space in front of you, "-Oh, I need the carriage if I'm to be on time now."

"Hershel, dear," Headmistress called out, and you could faintly hear his response, "-We need the carriage, immediately. Call for it, will you?"

You had a spare thought, staring at the pile. Suppose you brought them, and after, talked to Mr. Grimes about them. It might answer some of your questions, and there was something in you that wished him to know how you'd read them -if it was the same as how he intended.

You blew a huff through your nose, grabbing your basket off the counter and piling the paper into it.

And with that, you scampered out the door and into the carriage -at the urge of the Headmistress. Without so much as an extra thought, she tumbled in beside you -speaking quickly to the driver.

You found, even though you hadn't invited her, you didn't quite mind.

[dragonfly0808]

Flora and Sky Moodboard

Oh…. Oh… oh! These two…these two… just wait, you think I’ve hurt you with these two? You ain’t seen nothing yet

So this is going to be past stuff (pre the fiasco of season 3)

They’re both very soft people so I think they get each other in a lot of ways

So many exchanged glances when the others do dumb stuff. Sky’s blue, Flora’s pink, Idk how to explain it

They loved hanging out at the park, they often sit at a bench together chilling while the boys are skating and Bloom and Helia are drawing.

She helped with some of his architect projects, making structures out of vines and working with him

After the fiasco… I can’t say anything, we’ll see

Let Me Down Slowly by Alec Benjamin/Alessia Cara, The Cut That Always Bleeds by Conan Gray and hoax/exile by Taylor Swift/Bon Iver are their songs

Masterlist

All Friendships Masterlist

[pinkorchidsinspring]

Ivy is so so gay, to explain let us lyric analyze:

How's one to know? I'd meet you where the spirit meets the bones, In a faith forgotten land

Hoax: “your faithless love’s the only hoax I believe in”

A complicated relationship with religion is not something lacking throughout gay culture.

Taylor is more than likely referencing her own struggle with her relationship to a religion not approving of her sexuality.

Your touch brought forth an incandescent glow, Tarnished but so grand

The lovers touch while beautiful, was a sin, and wrong in the view of most but to Taylor this touch was amazing despite being tainted with those ideas.

Oh, goddamn, My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand, Taking mine, but it's been promised to another

This is probably a reference to the "adultery" being committed here, because the narrator has a fiancé/beard.

Oh, I can't, Stop you putting roots in my dreamland

She can’t control this love.

Her dreamland of “Folklore” is based in her real, honest, raw emotions.

She can’t stop this lover from being the reason for this dreamland.

I wish to know, The fatal flaw that makes you long to be, Magnificently cursed

Being gay has never been easy, and early on makes everyone who is gay in any way, wonder why they can’t just be straight. Taylor has most likely dealt with her own version of internalized homophobia shown in the original version of “Picture to Burn”: “Go and tell your friends that I'm obsessive and crazy, that's fine; I'll tell mine you're gay”.

Clover blooms in the fields, Spring breaks loose, the time is near, What would he do if he found us out?

This whole paragraph just gives forbidden gay love, and screams I don't want to care what other people think in this moment.

Crescent moon, coast is clear

Again with the hiding in “coast is clear”

Associated with feminine energy??? Combined with the coast is clear??? Yep, screams hetero.

Spring breaks loose, but so does fear

So very gay. Very gay. Come on. Sound like recent political events in America? With the turn of a new season, fear, specifically fear of being caught together, or the media finding out becomes more relevant than normal.

He's gonna burn this house to the ground

This male partner/beard is going to ruin their relationship, completely out of fear of what would happen if the truth of who she loved came out.

I'd live and die for moments that we stole, On begged and borrowed time

Even though this love was kept a secret, it was still Taylor’s whole life at the time.

These moments were "on begged and borrowed time" due to outside pressure. Possibly the pressure to be straight, and to appear straight, and not have longing looks directed at your "best friend".

So yeah, it's a fire, It's a goddamn blaze in the dark, And you started it, You started it, So yeah, it's a war

You Are In Love: “You understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars”

The Great War -so LGBTQIA

She finally understands that she has to fight through societies pressures to keep the love of her life.

It's the goddamn fight of my life

What would be so hard about being straight and in love with Joe Alwyn? Especially when you’re only known for writing break up songs about “men”…

Most recently while introducing “Dear, John” Taylor told swifties that : we should not “feel the need to defend [her] on the internet against someone [we] think [she] might have written a song about 14 billion years ago."

There are many things that don’t allow this song to have a hetero explanation. These are the things. <3

My other song analysis’ if you’re interested <3

[stonecoldhedwig]

Fic List

I have not done an updated fic list in a while, so here it is! I want to finish up my WIP this year, and then in the works I have a Dating App AU Jily fic (Remus is a dairy farmer?); another Oxford Chronicles installment; a massive Jily Hogwarts era thing; a Lily Luna/OC Quidditch AU; and about 19 other ideas.

WIP

A Great Many Things (M, eventual E; Alicia Spinnet/Oliver Wood; canon compliant; probably my favourite OC ever)

Celandine (E; Wolfstar, Jily, Blackinnon, literally every ship ever; open relationships; magical AU)

Coming, Evans? (M, but eventually E; magical AU inspired by Around the World in 80 Days; Jily and Wolfstar)

Highgate Mews (M; established Wolfstar, Jily & Dorlene; Muggle AU; part of the Marauders Map series)

Honeybee Mine (M; Muggle AU; Jily and Blackinnon; James Potter keeps bees)

The Shoelaces Case; or, the many ways to spend your 37th birthday (M; Blackinnon; magical AU; time travel)

Use Your Best Colours (T; canon from Hedwig's perspective; it's so stupid)

Multi-Chapter fics (completed)

In Love and Death We Don't Decide (M; eventual Blackinnon and Jily; Hogwarts era fic)

Miracles series (James Potter as the Boy Who Lived):

A Bitter Little Eucharist (T; established Wolfstar and Jily)

The Marauders' Map series:

Hepburn Avenue (M; text fic; utter chaos as the Marauders meet the girls at uni)

Canterbury Lane (T; Wolfstar; Remus checks Sirius out in a car)

Costa del Sol (T; text fic; established Jily and Wolfstar; the gang go on holiday; currently unfinished for a really petty reason and tbh, probably staying like that)

Caraway Street (E; established Jily and Wolfstar; the post-uni years)

Peverell Hall (G; fluff; James Potter's idyllic childhood)

The Oxford Chronicles series:

The Paintbox (M; Blackinnon, background Jily and Remadora; Muggle AU)

Jily One-Shots

A Little Bloom of Hope (T; Muggle AU; flower shop)

Better Ways (G; pre-relationship)

James Potter and the Case of the Lacy Black Bra (E; everyone lives)

Last Rites (E; canon compliant; emotional smut)

My Heart is Overcome (Gen; canon compliant; fluff and angst)

The Parting Glass (T; fluff)

The Way the Light Looks (T; fluff, but in an angsty setting)

Blackinnon One-Shots

Confession (M; love confessions)

Oceans and Glaciers (E; ok, it's actually a 2 shot, but hey ho; very explicit)

Wolfstar One-Shots

Mosaic (E; 8 one-shots with a lot of different kinks, I guess)

Snowed In (T; first kiss; Hanukkah; Jewish!Remus)

Until It Shines (G; mild angst but also very fluff; canon divergence)

Hinny One-Shots

A Lesson Overheard (E; first time[ish]; canon compliant)

A Place for Hidden Things (T; canon compliant; post-canon; sad but with a happy ending)

Opaline (E; post-war; angry sex and unhealthy coping mechanisms)

Three Gnomes in a Knitted Trench Coat (G; technically canon compliant; a bit of a crack fic tho)

Misc. One-Shots

Afternoon Delight (E; Colin Creevey/Draco Malfoy; yeah, I hate myself too)

Enough Pizza to Feed a Horse (G; canon compliant[ish]; the OotP girls hang out)

Giving Us Doomsday (T; angst; original OotP celebrating New Year)

God Bless the Shed, and All Who Sail in Her (G; fluff and humour; the Potters being Potters)

hoax (G; Marlene/Gideon; angst; implied cheating)

Remember that You are Dust (M; 2nd person POV; the universe addresses the Marauders at the time of their deaths)

The Theory of Relativity (T; established Jily and Wolfstar, previous Remadora and Blackinnon, but not in a misogynist way; Lily is enby)

Rabastan Lestrange/Narcissa Malfoy fics

coney island (M; angst; sex; adultery)

The Burning Edge of Dawn (M; angst; who is Draco's dad?)

Collabs

All's Well That Ends Well (even if it takes four years) with a lot of people (E; Wolfstar; angst then fluff)

WIP: The Secret "Oral" History with @jennandblitz (E; 1980s university; lots of drugs; we affectionately call this Coke Fic)

WIP: We Were Electrified with @siriusly-sapphic (M; how the Lestrange twins became the worst people ever)

[ugotcooneycrossed]

yeahhh tell me some of ur fave songs 🫶🏻 my playlists need a refresh badly

okay so i listen to alot of music and ive got so so many playlists but id say these are my favs atm and some of my all time favs

the only exception - paramore

female energy, part 2 - willow

literally the entire 'CTRL' album by sza

taylor swift!! (folklore esp ✊) (actually the holy trinity taylor-lorde-lana del rey)

HOZIER 😩✊

FLEETWOOD MAC ✊✊😩

bags - clairo

amoeba - clairo

night shift - lucy dacus

cool about it - boygenius

japanese denim - daniel caesar

she wants my money - dominic fike

running - nicotine

i know why the caged birds sing - nicotine

sweet - cigarettes after sex

every breath you take - the police

kiss me - six pence none the richer

linger - the cranberries

lover you shouldve come over - jeff buckley

sweet disposition - the temper trap

use somebody - kings of leon

death of a phone call - whatever, dad

oh! tengo surte - masayoshi takanaka

bloom - the paper kites

for emma - bon iver

heading south - zach bryan

everywhere, everything (with gracie abrams) - noah kahan

stick season - noah kahan

northern attitude - noah kahan

homesick - noah kahan

6 weeks - beach bunny

tummy hurts - renee rapp

poison poison - renee rapp

into the blackhole - HOAX

father time (ft sampha) - kendrick lamar

count me out - kendrick lamar

duckworth - kendrick lamar

all falls down - kanye

devil in a new dress - kanye

no more parties in la - kanye

hey - pixies

mr. grieves - pixies

santeria - sublime

cherry waves - deftones

LMAO i do have classical music recs too if you want

[shysurvivor]

was it love? can something be called love and care if it hurts like this? can real love ever be corrupted? is it love if it can be used to hurt? could it ever have been love if it can vanish like that? was it just a hoax? was it just empty words? how could you ever call me a friend, how could you claim to feel love, if it vanishes with a blink of an eye? if it vanishes into thin air leaving not even indifference but something more sinister.... something that moves you forward... something that makes you abuse the love and care.... corrupt it.... has anything been real to you? words of devotion and trust.... spilled so freely.... only to be meaningless.... to be superficial.... for me it was real....for me the hope was eternal.... all the love that accumulated through the years.... it all created an everlasting belief.... an eternal trust.... a trust that ran deeper.... apparently one-sided.... apparently worth nothing.....leaving my heart open.... without any defense..... why should I shield my heart from you? you who I trust implicitly.... you who shaped my very being.... you who said again and again how much it meant to you.... how much love you hold for me.... how grateful you are.... and i felt the same... felt sometimes as if I was not devoted enough to you..... but now I know the truth.... my devotion ran deeper.... i was the first to really get close.... I was the first to really scratch the surface.... i made you question things.... i loved you so much.... my belief in you was so fundamental.... i challenged you to reach the potential i believed so deeply you held in yourself.... i tried so much to be the light.... the light that was hidden from you so much in your life.... i truly believed you could bloom into something breathtakingly beautiful.... that i could cast away the clouds and help you achieve all your dreams.... encourage you to reach for the stars....in the end my belief was just as empty as your words.... and while your words filled me with hurt.... the deceit.... the illusion revealing itself..... the disappointment... in myself mostly.... for still not giving up my belief..... for thinking you are just lost in your way.... that some time you will find the right path again.... that the bright bloom i saw in your eyes.... in your heart.... is not an illusion.... that you will some day come to reach the stars..... stars that i thought were not far away.... needing only someone to give you a hand to reach them.... but you open your hand..... and instead of brightness.... there is only darkness...... piercing through my heart..... my soul...... my very being....

....and still i sit here.... in darkness.... filling the void in my heart with bitter tears.... while my heart still holds onto the last shattered piece.... holds onto the belief..... that you are meant to shine.... shine bright..... if only someone could be there to chase away the clouds....i wanted to be this person.... this someone.... you proclaimed me to be the person....your words stoked the fire of hope.....hope which still has not lost me entirely.... making me the biggest fool on earth.... making me ask myself i managed to survive this long? how i was even able to hold all this love for you in the first place.... after all when we met my heart was already broken multiple times.... but apparently it didn't wither away but grew only bigger.... nurtured by your words.... by the hope they inspired....by the love they carried.... love that made it grow bigger..... creating an even better target.

[dramioneasks]

Hi there. Any fic recommendations where Draco is soft/gentle, gets along with everybody & Hermione falls for him first because of that?

TQ in advance!!

This Is Me Trying by his_parents_gallery - M, 50 chapters - After the war, Hermione started to see the title of "Brightest Witch of Her Age" as more of a burden than an honor. With loneliness, pressure, and a lack of motivation eating at her; Hermione finds it almost impossible to keep up her "normal" facade. However, only one person seems to notice anything is wrong... Will Draco Malfoy be able to bring back the fire in Hermione, or is the old Hermione dead?

My Best Friends' Best Friend Draco Malfoy by GreenInk_RedLetters - M, 19 chapters - "Look, we obviously don't get along." Malfoy rose a brow. "But Harry is my best friend and for some miraculous reason he's decided to trust you so I'm proposing a truce." Malfoy crossed his arms. "A...truce?" "Yes. No insulting my hair or my clothes OR my work habits." He looked like he wanted to interrupt her. "And I won't intentionally insult your necessity for a house elf or your slimy personality." "In the same breath you've managed to propose a truce AND insult me." He paused. "Very Slytherin of you." Hermione ignored him. "Truce? For the sake of our friends?" He smirked. "Alright." Her eyes narrowed. She hadn't expected it to be that easy. A true enemies-to-lovers Dramione story, with an added twist of the rest of Hermione's friends having already adopted Draco into their group. But when the pair form a timid truce to work together to assist in Harry's proposal to Ginny...maybe seeds of friendship (or something more) will start to bloom. Features classic Draco snark, humor, alcohol-induced decision making, and perhaps someone not hating the other *quite* as much as they'd previously alluded to.

The Grangers’ Guide to Good Neighbourly Conduct by rattlebag - T, 2 chapters - Per the Bartley Road neighbourly agreement, as set out by Miss. H. J. Granger, one accepts responsibility for sticking to the following rules: 1. No loud noises after 10 pm on weekdays 2. Bins to be kept within house boundary 3. Permits are required for cars on the street 4. Willingness to share food and Netflix passwords Or: The one where Draco moves in next door

All For Us by goldengirlgranger - E, 32 chapters - Returning to Hogwarts for Eighth Year was tougher than Hermione Granger had imagined, without her two best friends at her side it was hard for her to picture what Hogwarts was without them. She was one of few students returning and she understood why, but she had to go back, finish her education as she should have. She hadn’t decided how she was going to deal with seeing the castle again, attending classes with missing students and teachers and getting on with life as normal. She especially hadn't factored in who the other returning Eighth Year students were and how they would impact her life. "Not surprised to see you here, Granger. But I bet you're surprised to see me" Draco Malfoy. Surprised was an understatement.

The Malfoy Mystery by kkavyaa - G, 23 chapters - One day, Draco felt himself changing. No, not like puberty, but something else. He discovers things about himself that his family has hidden since his birth. His family, his entire life had been a hoax. He has trouble accepting this reality and has to balance this as he attends his last year at Hogwarts after the defeat of you-know-who.

-Lisa