#i just feel like you have the loveliest smile. a bit random but i truly think that!!

[tingerines]

Pairing: Epel x GN!Reader Genre: Fluff

In this world, soulmates do exist.

No one knows when they will meet theirs or if they ever will, but chances of the latter is very unlikely.

See, the universe has a funny way of bringing two destined souls together; in this case, soulmates are brought together through music.

As a result, it isn’t strange for one, or two, or even a dozen people to suddenly start singing in the middle of the street. The more fortunate members of society are able to contain this urge, and you’re fortunately one of them.

But balance is a must.

So, while most soulmates will start singing the same song no matter where or how far apart they are, you have to deal with a song playing on repeat in your head for an undisclosed amount of time. It’s similar to how people say they have a catchy song stuck in their head, but you hear your soulmate’s voice singing to you instead.

Luck is truly on your side though, because you think that your soulmate has one of the loveliest voices that you’ve ever heard.

Or do you only think that because it’s your soulmate?

You wonder what they must be like. Definitely an interesting person based only on their music taste — which is completely random. They could be singing a tune that probably should belong in an opera and suddenly change to a song about baking a cake the next.

You never knew what to expect from them, least of all silence.

But that’s exactly what you got today.

If this wasn’t something out of the ordinary, you wouldn’t have been so worried. But you couldn’t help but think of all the things that could be wrong.

It’s for this reason that you’ve dragged your friends out to the nearest tea shop: to worry incessantly about someone you haven’t even met yet.

“No, I’m telling you that they have never not sung, Ace,” you groan while rubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands. “What if they tripped on their way to work and cracked multiple teeth, or something?”

Ace looks up at you with utter unamusement on his face as he takes another sip of his bubble tea, “that’s pretty dramatic, y/n. Maybe they’re just busy.”

“I mean, isn’t it nice to have some peace and quiet? They’ll probably go back to singing by tonight,” Jack offers before you could say anything else. “It could be worse.”

“How’s that?” you sigh before occupying yourself by taking small sips of your matcha latte.

“Our friend from college has never heard his soulmate’s voice — well, not since he was little.”

“Are you serious?” you raise an eyebrow, feeling a bit skeptical about this information.

But you weren’t one to talk; you’d always opted to wait until the late hours of the night to sing. A small part of you reasoned that you only did so to not disturb your soulmate throughout the day. But the bigger part of you knows that you’re just afraid to embarrass yourself.

“Yeah, you can ask him yourself,” Jack nods before nudging his chin towards the space behind you.

“What?”

You turn around to see a young man at the cash register paying for his drink. You can only make out the top half of his face due to his face mask, but you can already tell that he’s attractive — with wavy lavender locks that perfectly frames his face and double-lidded eyes that curve slightly at the ends, as if he has a natural wing.

You’re not sure why you can’t take your eyes off of him. You’ve seen plenty of attractive men in your life, yet…

Jack clears his throat at the same time Ace pokes at your forearm, forcing you to divert your attention back to the two.

“What?” you ask again, your eyes shifting between your friends who keep exchanging knowing looks with one-another. “Why do you look like that?”

The pair don’t answer you and instead wave over the handsome stranger that’s caught your attention. He immediately makes his way over to your table and places his hands on the chair right next to yours.

“May I sit here?” he asks, his eyes curving into crescent moons as he smiles — though it’s not visible to anyone.

You look up and accidentally make eye contact with him; and that alone is enough to make a comforting warmth spread from your heart to the rest of your body.

Both of your eyes widen in surprise, though you don’t realize that the stranger is experiencing the same exact warm comfort as you.

But why?

Jack and Ace exchange another set of knowing looks before Ace pats the table loud enough to snap you both out of your trances.

“Oh, um… y—yeah, go ahead,” you manage to stammer out, your hands nervously tucking loose strands of hair behind your ears as you turn to sit upright again.

What is wrong with you all of the sudden?

“Thank you,” the man clears his throat and moves to situate himself onto the empty seat before extending a hand out towards you, “I’m Epel, by the way.”

“O—oh,” you hesitantly reach out to wrap your fingers around Epel’s hand in a handshake, your skin immediately tingles upon contact. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m y/n.”

“‘Y/n’? That’s very pretty,” Epel says as his eyes curve into crescent moons once more.

“Th—thank you,” you bow your head in hopes that the shadows will conceal the blush creeping up your cheeks.

“Epel, you have a pretty name too,” Ace comments in a playful tone as he pats the said man’s cheeks.

You shoot a glare at your friend, mentally cursing him for teasing you at such a time, but he only smiles innocently at you in response.

“Call me ‘pretty’ again and you’ll never see the daylight again,” Epel chuckles. “How are y’all?”

“We’re good. What’s with the mask?” Jack gestures towards Epel’s face, and he assumes that he must mean the face mask.

“I caught a cold — just my luck,” Epel sighs.

“Is Vil going to cut you some slack today then?”

Epel shakes his head, “nah… I just won’t be able to sing as much as I usually do. Which is why I’m saving my voice as much as I can.”

“What if they’re sick?!” you suddenly exclaim, prompting Epel to turn towards you with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Excuse me?”

“They’re talking about their soulmate again,” Ace whines before planting his face onto Jack’s shoulder.

“Oh? Why, what’s up? Did you finally meet them?”

“No…” you shake your head before giving your friends an apologetic look, “they’ve just stopped singing — and they always sing. So maybe they’re sick!”

“Sounds like me,” Epel says jokingly with a grin, but his laugh is cut short by the alarmed look on your face. “I—I’m kidding. I just meant that I sing all the time too for—well, really because Housewarden Vil asks me to.”

Watching the awkward exchange prompts Ace to hunch over and start coughing, but you can hear his hidden “smooth” in between the sharp sounds. You shoot your friend a glare before placing a hand on top of Epel’s — and it’s just a gesture of reassurance.

At least that’s what you try convincing yourself of.

“So,” you start, hoping to change the conversation’s topic for everyone’s sake, “is there any particular reason why you’re being made to focus on your singing skills?”

“Oh!” you can see the glimmers of happiness in Epel’s eyes as he begins to talk animatedly about his hobby. “It’s ‘cause of my family’s apple farm. Which, hear me out, ‘cause I know you’re prolly thinkin’ ‘how is that even related’? But…”

Then Epel begins to explain how his family business experienced a boom in business after this year’s SDC, and he saw this as motivation to work on strengthening his charms. After all, Harveston isn’t a well-known part of Twisted Wonderland; and if he works hard enough, he could help not only his family, but the other elders in the village as well.

“Then Vil had this great idea that we should start an NRC radio show. I like to call it the Epel Farm but Vil was not a fan of that. And, well— it’s more of a ‘daily podcast’ than it is a radio show. I do a lot of different things depending on my mood; sometimes I’ll give advice to my listeners or just play music — and sing, of course. I surprisingly like it a lot.”

“You seem to be very passionate about your family and apples. It’s wonderful that you’ve got such a strong source of motivation,” you can only offer a sheepish smile as your head is still spinning from the overload of information Epel just spilled onto you. “I haven’t gotten the chance to tune in yet, but your radio show sounds great.”

And the two of you continue your conversation just like that, completely forgetting that you have other friends sitting right across the table. Too enamored with one-another to even notice their amused stares.

Truth be told, Ace and Jack had a sneaking suspicion that they knew who your soulmate was for a while now. Epel’s too.

At first, it seemed like a coincidence. You’d whine about the fact that you couldn’t focus well when your soulmate keeps singing a song about washing the dishes. Then that same night, they would hear Epel singing a similar song in a pre-recording of Epel Farm.

When asked, Epel had told them that he rarely hears his soulmate’s voice unless he stayed up late enough. He’d wake up with swollen eyes the morning after and was surely scolded by Vil, but he always thought that it was worth it.

They connected the distant grey dots when you told them you try not to sing until nightfall in fear of disturbing your soulmate’s day.

The coincidences continued to pile on from there, and Ace finally convinced Epel to meet you for confirmation.

Except he left out the part where you were going to be here today.

But Epel is smart and he catches on very quickly. It also helps that your friends were not very subtle with the way they were gawking at you two as you conversed.

You must be someone special. He could tell from the moment you made eye contact earlier.

Whereas your parents never told you the feeling of meeting your soulmate — not to mention your friends haven’t experienced such things either — Epel was more blessed.

He’s been excited to meet you since the moment his parents recounted the day that they met. The feeling of comfort and warmth, like basking under the hot summer sun or wrapping yourself up in your favorite blanket on a snowy day.

The same exact feeling he had when he first saw you.

But he’s not one to jump to conclusions. He needed solid evidence, and there’s only one way he knows how to collect it. Subtly.

“Do you want to come back to Pomefiore with me then? I’m about to head down, and it’ll give you a chance to finally listen in,” Epel offers, holding his breath as he waits for your answer.

You hum in thought, glancing over at your friends for their confirmation before nodding, “sure, I would love to.”

“Perfect, I’ll go grab my drink and we can go.”

Underneath the face mask, Epel is absolutely beaming in delight but he tries his best not to jump for joy right away. Instead, he counts to ten in his head to calm his nerves before he gets up from his seat, “oh— Ace and Jack, you guys can come too. Just don’t break anything this time.”

“Wh— it was totally Jack’s fault for scaring me!” Ace tries to defend himself but the shorter man is already out of earshot. He sighs, lips jutting out into a pout as he crosses his arms and slumps back down his seat.

“Your soulmate sucks, y/n,” Ace grumbles due to his hurt pride, the weight of his words not registering until he notices the way you stare at him with raised eyebrows.

“Who’s my soulmate?” you snort and lean forward to gently smack Ace’s hand. “Don’t joke around like that!”

“S—sorry,” Ace scratches the back of his head, the toothy smile he offers you filled with awkwardness.

Were you always this naive, or pretending to ignore the fact that he just slipped up?

His eyes shift up to look at something behind you and he breathes a sigh of relief before jumping out of his seat, “Epel! Great! Let’s get going before you’re late!”

“Uh— Okay, okay,” Epel holds his hands up in defeat as he allows Ace to usher him out of the tea shop.

You and Jack follow not too far behind, with you clinging onto your friend’s arm for warmth and protection against the chilly autumn breeze.

Thankfully — and surprisingly — the walk back to the Pomefiore dorm was only about one mile, tops. It was still a half an hour walk, but you can’t complain in the presence of good company. Plus, it probably would be a few days’ walk if you didn’t have a mirror to transport you to anywhere you want to go.

“Here we are,” Epel announces, his voice quieter and a softer tone than it had been at the tea shop. He stops walking right outside a door to a room marked with a medium-sized apple sign. “Please come in.”

Epel hurries to hold the door open for you, and you can’t hold back the giggle that bubbles up your throat as you walk past him.

How adorable, you think to yourself.

You absolutely adored the way that he so enthusiastically talked about his radio show earlier, and you can see now that he truly treats this place like his second home.

True to its name, the interior of the room is decorated with shades of green and various apple drawings randomly placed on the wall. Just like an apple orchard.

The environment is bright and warm, and if Epel was a room this is what you imagine he would look like. Is that strange?

“Okay, follow me. You guys can sit right outside of the broadcasting booth, and we’ll be able to see each other,” Epel gestures for your trio to follow him deeper into the room.

His face mask is pulled down now, exposing the lower half of his face, and you can’t help but to steal glances at him every few seconds. You had the gut feeling that he would be attractive, but nothing could prepare you for how pretty the man truly was.

Lost in thought — well, more like Epel’s face — you don’t notice that your friends have stopped walking and you face plant directly into Jack’s shoulder, causing you to stumble back ungracefully.

“Are you okay?” he looks back in concern.

“Uh, yes,” you affirm, a hand rubbing at your sore forehead.

“Be careful,” Epel comments before reaching out and taking a hold of your hand. He gently pries it off your forehead and leans forward to study the blanket of red on your skin. “It doesn’t look bad, but if it still hurts and you want to ice it, please let me know.”

“Okay, t—thank you,” you whisper.

From the close proximity, you have the opportunity to see his features more clearly — from his piercing light blue orbs to his adorable plump cheeks down to his rosy lips.

You’re not sure why you couldn’t stop staring at him, or why the same warmth as before is spreading through your body again. But the feeling is very much welcomed.

Unbeknownst to you, Epel feels the same way.

The sound of someone clearing their throat pops the momentary bubble you were encased in, causing the two of you to take a step away from one-another.

“Epel. We need to go check the sounds now,” a very familiar man stands off to the side, his face seeming as if he’d showed up someplace he wasn’t supposed to.

“Thank you, Housewarden Vil. I’ll be right there.”

“Alright. And Jack. Ace. Y/n. It’s a pleasure to see you all again,” Vil greets you all politely before he turns on his heels and hurries back inside what you presume is the broadcasting booth.

“Have a seat. You should be able to hear the broadcast through the speaker here,” Epel gestures towards a seemingly misplaced large speaker just outside of the broadcasting booth. When he turns back to you, he flashes a bright smile that has your heart suddenly skipping a beat. “I hope you’ll like it.”

With that, you both part ways. Epel walks to the broadcast booth while you walk over to where your friends have retreated minutes earlier.

“I feel strange,” you confess after situating yourself in a seat facing the glass door to the booth.

Jack and Ace exchange looks for what seems like the hundredth time that day before Jack says, “a good strange? Or did you already catch Epel’s cold?”

“I don’t know, but… I feel so warm and fuzzy. So I guess that’s good? I—” your sentence is cut off by a familiar voice in your head, and you let out a short sound of relief.

Your friends give you looks of confusion mixed with worry, mostly because your mood suddenly changed and they can’t tell if you’ve suddenly lost your mind. But you shake your head and whisper, “my soulmate is singing again!”

Jack eyes flicker briefly towards Epel, who seems to be speaking into a mic, before coming back to you, “what’s he singing?”

“Actually, it’s not a made-up song for chores this time,” you hum along to the lyrics in your head, your brain working to figure out what song is playing before it clicks. “Ah! It’s ‘Piece of My World’.”

Jack nods as he hops off his seat and makes his way to the speaker Epel pointed out earlier. His fingers fumble with the controls before you suddenly hear the same song blasting through them as the one in your head.

“How?” you ask, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you stare at the speaker. “That’s such a weird coincidence.”

Surely this was just a coincidence, right? But the more you listen, the farther away the voice in your head gets, the voice coming from the speaker replacing it instead.

The same voice that you’ve heard every day for as long as you can remember.

Your soulmate’s voice.

You stand up, hesitantly inching closer to the speaker, where Jack is giving you an apologetic look. How long had he known?

A million thoughts were running through your mind per second, faster than your heart is racing at the moment.

But when you’re a few feet away from the glass door, it suddenly makes sense to you. The way you felt so comfortable around him, how easily attracted you were to him, and why your friends had insisted you meet him all those times before.

Somehow they always knew, but now you know too.

Feeling eyes on him, Epel looks towards the door and makes eye contact with you. His mouth falls open to a small “o” when he sees the look of utter astonishment on your face.

Did you figure it out? Was he right?

Your lips moved, though he couldn’t hear what you were saying through the soundproof walls. That didn’t matter, however, because suddenly a voice greets his mind. One that he hasn’t heard sing to him when the sun is still up in years.

“You’re my soulmate.”

[nearlymanaged]

9. James The Owl

It was one of those nights; the ones that mocked Sirius with the sounds of deep, steady breathing of his sleeping roommates. He had been lying in bed for hours, not a trace of sleep in his own tired eyes. Instead, he was left with bad memories that kept replaying over and over again in his head. He thought about how much had changed and wondered about how much was yet to come.

He’d always found it easy to give and receive affection - in spite of being deprived of both growing up - but on a night like this, his mind had wandered to a dark place, deep beneath his usual facade of careless charm and mischievous lovability. He wondered if he was truly capable of ever experiencing genuine love. He wondered if he deserved it, if he was too much of a Black for it.

But his train of thought came to a sudden halt, his heart nearly leaping out of his throat, when the gentle quiet of the night was shattered by a loud gasp. He sat up, fumbling with the red curtains of his bed, until he saw Remus propping himself up on his elbows.

“What’s the matter?” Sirius whispered.

“I-I hurt someone…” Moony panted, glancing around and blinking fiercely. “Is it full moon again?...”

Without thinking, Sirius pulled himself up and plopped down on the edge of Remus’ bed. This wasn’t the first night that had been interrupted by werewolf nightmares.

“We’ve still got a week left until the last full moon of this year, my love…” Sirius froze momentarily, realising what he’d just said and how effortlessly it had tumbled out of his mouth; Remus, however, didn’t seem to have noticed it. “It was just a dream.”

“It was…”

“Yes. You’ve never hurt anyone in your life,” Sirius murmured. 

“Bloody hell…” Remus’ breathing was frantic still, as if he’d been running. “It seemed so real…”

As Sirius squinted at him in the dark, he could just make out his horror-stricken face. “Are you alright? Do you want some tea or something? Hot cocoa?”

“N-no, I’m fine. I just need to…” He swung his legs over the edge of the bed. “I think I just need to take a little walk.”

“Where are you going to walk to?” Sirius couldn’t keep the note of mirth out of his voice.

“To er… Maybe just down to the common room, I suppose. I just need to stretch my legs…” And with that, Moony got up and quietly walked over to the door. Before it swung shut though, Sirius grabbed his wand and followed him out.

“Are you sure you don’t need anything?” He asked again, a little louder now since they were out of their sleeping friends’ earshot.

“No… Thanks, Sirius.” Remus started pacing around the old sofas and armchairs. “Sorry I woke you up. You can go back to sleep, you know. I won’t drop dead or anything.”

“Eh, sleep’s overrated anyway.” Sirius pointed his wand at the fireplace and mumbled Incendio.

“I feel so childish,” Remus breathed out after a few minutes filled with the cozy crackling of the flames; he’d stopped in front of the fireplace, his back turned on Sirius who was now sitting on a sofa. “Having night terrors…”

“Childish? Moony, you’re quite possibly the single bravest person I know.”

“Kind of you to humour me,” he turned around. “You know many sixth years who can’t fall asleep after a nightmare?”

“You know many sixth years who turn into a werewolf every month and yet somehow remain to be the loveliest people that anyone could ever hope to know in their lives?” 

Remus shuffled from one bare foot to another for a moment, his expression turning into an embarrassed smile that was threatening to melt Sirius’ heart into a puddle. Then, the black haired boy patted the seat beside him and Remus walked over and sat down, hugging his knees to his chest, while Sirius pointed his wand at a stack of folded blankets in the corner of the room and summoned one.  

He watched Moony lie down on his side, resting his head on the opposite end of the sofa, then threw the blanket over him. They stayed like that for a while, quietly, without talking. Some ten minutes later, Sirius leaned over to take a look at Remus’ face.

“Are you asleep?” He breathed weakly.

“No, it’s too quiet,” Remus answered without opening his eyes.

“I can read for you.” Sirius summoned a copy of Witch Weekly that someone had left in the common room. 

“You never told me you can read, Sirius!” Remus mumbled.

“Oh yes, I know all the letters. You see, I had to learn them since my parents wouldn’t read The Tales of Beedle the Bard to me.”

There was a pause filled with stifled laughter. “You just had to go there…”

“I had to,” Sirius smiled down at Remus, then opened the magazine. “Here we go: ‘How to Bewitch that special Wizard this Yuletide’!”

“Oh dear…”

“Yule Season is a mystical time of the year, blah blah blah… Hm… Okay... Offer him a mince pie with Amortentia (or a cheaper alternative) infused filling or slip a couple of drops in his egg-nog if--”

“Are you serious?” Remus sat up to peek at the magazine.

“Yes. And you’re Remus,” Sirius answered, unable to stop himself, causing the other boy to smile involuntarily and shake his head.

“That should be illegal.”

“Okay, let’s move on. Ah! Those of you who have older living relatives, ask your grandmother or your great auntie to teach you some fun, old-fashioned tricks. Once having reached an unprecedented peak of popularity in the 1900s, the Entrancing Enchantments are making a comeback. Just don’t forget to make sure the spell doesn’t wear off halfway through your date--”

“Unbelievable!”

“Alright, this is clearly not working. If only I had a copy of A History of Magic…” Sirius threw the magazine onto an armchair. “Or something you couldn’t argue with…”

“Oh, I could easily argue with A History of Magic. Don’t even get me started on The Werewolf Code of Conduct of 1637!”

“Right. I forget how much of a huge swot you are… How about I...talk about something in French, so you actually can’t argue with it?”

Silence followed the suggestion as Remus stared at him with a kind of bemusement etched in his face. Sirius felt the strongest urge to either look away from Moony’s impossibly green eyes or to kiss him. Instead, he cleared his throat. “I mean, I don’t have to…”

“No, no, that sounds nice. I forget you speak French…” Remus looked away and lied down on his side again; this time, the top of his head was no more than a couple of inches away from Sirius’ thigh, his hair brushing against it.

“D’accord, très bien. De quoi devrais-je parler?” He gazed down at the side of Moony’s face. “Je ne pense pas du tout que tu es enfantin. Je pense que tu es très fort. Je sais que ça doit être dur, je sais que ça fait mal ... Je t'ai vu passer par la transformation plusieurs fois, et ça me fait aussi mal. Mais tu voilà, si fort et si beau... J'aimerais avoir le cran de le dire en anglais. Je suis tellement attiré par toi. Pourquoi tu ne vois pas ça? Je veux vraiment t'embrasser. Merde...tu entends mon cœur battre? Il vaut peut-être mieux ne pas t'embrasser. Je pense que mon cœur pourrait exploser...”

As it turned out, Sirius found it really easy to come up with things to say. He thought he could have spent the whole night telling Remus things in French that he wished he could have said in English. But he fell silent eventually, when Remus’ breathing slowed and deepened. Sirius got himself another blanket, put his feet up on a red velvet pouffe, and slowly dozed off too; thinking about how glad he was that he could be there for Remus, how nice it was to love. 

* * *

“Prongs, can you do me a favour?”

“Always.”

“Can you ask Remus if he likes me?”

“Of course. I doubt he’ll tell me though.”

“How so?”

“He won’t think I’m serious.” There was a pause, the two boys staring squarely at each other. “No pun intended.”

“None taken.” At this, they both burst out laughing.

“You know, you’d think you’d be able to figure this out on your own, seeing as he practically slept in your lap last night.”

“If only…”

“Alright. I’ll try my best, but know this - I don’t like this. I still think, if you’re going to pine and moan about it that much, you need to talk to him yourself.”

“Yes…” Sirius screwed up his face in mock gravitas. “Perhaps I should start yelling ‘go out with me’ at him all throughout the day, in the most random places all around the castle?”

“How dare you!”

It took James a few days to find the right moment to bring it up. With the approaching full moon and end of term, there always seemed to be a hundred little things to do and to worry about. He finally found himself alone with Remus after their Herbology lesson; the boy stayed back to finish pruning his Venomous Tentacula after everyone had gathered their things and left. James hung around to wait for his friend, thinking that he was unlikely to get a better opportunity to have a go at it in the next few weeks. But his luck didn’t end there - just as he was racking his brain, trying to think of what the best way to start the conversation was, Remus opened his mouth.

“Are you still hung up on Evans?”

“Ehm… S’pose you could say that. Why? Did she say anything?” He momentarily forgot that he was on a mission, excitement kindling in his stomach.

“Not to me. I don’t know, I was just wondering. 

“Anyway, what about you?”

“What about me?” 

“Do you fancy...anyone?” James was pacing around, mindlessly running his fingers over leaves of plants and dusty pots.

“Well that is neither here, nor there.”

“So it’s a ‘yes’?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“So a ‘no’?” James stopped and smirked at his friend; he was obviously evading the question.

“You really should stop pushing the cotton bud in when you feel resistance, James,” Remus drawled, finally finishing up with the plant and sweeping all the bits of leaves and dirt off the table.

“You have shared your biggest secret with me and you said it yourself - you told me that never for a single second did you ever feel like I started looking at you differently. So why are you so embarassed to tell me who you fancy, mate?”

“A-ha. Trick question,” Remus tapped the side of his nose, carrying a terracotta pot in his other hand. “I never said I fancy anyone at all.”

“So you don’t?”

“I don’t know, maybe that’s my biggest secret?”

“Fine. What if I told you that I know that someone fancies you?”

“I would gasp dramatically and wait for the punchline.”

“How do people think I’m an insufferable smartass?” James frowned, pouting a little.

“Don’t you have somewhere else to ask stupid questions?”

“Nah, I’m free until after lunch,” James pulled his mouth in a smug smirk. 

“Perfect. It’s almost lunchtime,” Remus grabbed his bag and walked past James, tapping him on the back with a big grin. “You coming?” He glanced around at the door leading out of the greenhouse.

When James came back to the Gryffindor tower after the Quidditch practice that evening, he beckoned Sirius on his way up the stairs to their dormitory. This was the first time they could get some privacy since James had spoken to Remus, and he was eager to put a stop to Sirius unrelenting questioning as soon as possible.

“You can stop pestering me. I asked him.”

“And?” Sirius leaned towards him, his whole body eager with anticipation.

“I couldn’t figure it out,” James shrugged, pulling his shoes off.

“What do you mean? What did he say?”

“Not much at all, now that I think about it… I reckon he might be hiding something though. He didn’t give me a straight answer.”

Sirius fell backwards onto his bead, draping his wrist over his forehead and sighing dramatically. “I wonder if Evans knows something. He’s always whispering and giggling with her. Although, on second thought, I haven’t seen them together in a little bit… Hm.”

“You don’t think…” James spoke quietly now, a faint frown distorting his face. “You don’t think he likes Lily?”

“Well shit. I hope not. Ah, you’re jealous!” Sirius sat up, goggling at James gleefully once he noticed his friend’s sour expression.

“No, I’m not.”

“Maybe you should try going out with someone else. Maybe she’d even find it in herself to feel jealous then?”

“But I don’t want to go out with anyone else! I like Lily!” James explained a tad too shrilly than he meant to and Sirius wasted no time in mimicking him and making himself chuckle.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh at your misery…” He wiped his eye with a single finger. “It’s just that desperation looks hilarious on you--”

“Fuck you, Pads,” James mumbled as a mischievious smile returned to his face. “Do you think Moony likes me? Do you think he’ll want to get married? Do you think he’ll notice if I steal his clothes and sniff them at night?” Now it was his turn to tease his friend with accompanying gestures of clutching his face and fanning himself.

“It was one time! I put his T-shirt on once, by accident!” Sirius bellowed pointing a comically threatening finger at James. “I’ve seen you pick up single red hairs off furniture and rugs in the common room!”

At this, James gasped dramatically and pulled his wand out. “Don’t you dare drag sweet, beautiful Lily into this!”

“Or what, Potter?” Sirius drew his own wand out of the pocket of his jeans and flashed a devilish grin. 

“Levicorpus!” James yelled at the same time as the dormitory door flung open and Remus walked in.

Everyone froze - James, with his wand held high, pointing at Sirius who now hung upside down, letting his arms dangle and his shirt bunch up around his shoulders and neck, and Remus, still in the doorway, eyeing his friends with palpable curiosity mixed with relish. The latter then became animated again, looking down at Sirius’ face as he strode over to his bedside table to grab a bottle of ink.

“Sirius, if I were you, I’d use this distraction to your advantage,” he uttered on his way out and before James could do anything, he felt himself being dragged through the air and turned upside down, his ankles held by invisible forces; both him and Sirius howling with laughter. 

* * *

Remus was ready to dart out of the classroom as soon as the bell rang, but the moment he stood up, he realised both of his shoelaces had gotten untied. He bent over, mumbling to himself in mild confusion. A moment later he stood back up to find the room empty, but for the teacher. He was pleased to see that Lily wasn’t lingering around, trying to talk to him this time, but his vague smile faded when he walked out into the hallway - there she was, leaning against the wall, obviously waiting for him.

“Oh, it’s you,” he blurted and kept walking.

“What’s the matter with you?”

He didn’t bother offering a better answer than a small shrug of his shoulders. However, before he reached the end of the empty corridor, his legs zipped together out of the blue, making him topple over and hit his shoulder against the wall.

“Ouch!”

“If you won’t talk to me voluntarily then you leave me no choice.” Lily walked up to him, her wand still clutched in her hand. 

Remus couldn’t help but be impressed with her for a brief moment, for she always seemed so sweet and innocent and absolutely not the type to jinx people in the hallways. Then he scowled at her. “Leg Locking Spell? Very mature.”

“Why have you been avoiding me?” Lily demanded, folding her arms over her chest.  

“I haven’t.”

“Do I really look that stupid?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?”

“I thought we were friends? Did I do anything to you?”

“Hm, let me think…” Remus finally managed to regain his balance and push himself off the wall. He rapped his fingers against his chin in mock contemplation, but in all honesty, he didn’t know how to express his frustration without sounding over-dramatic and desperate. “If we’re friends, then how come you told Price to go chat Sirius up?”

Whatever the sensible way to bring it up was, this wasn’t it, he knew immediately. But at least, he could tell, Lily knew exactly what he was talking about. Her lips parted, her eyes full of surprise, but then her auburn eyebrows dipped low in a frown.

“First of all, if you must know, Marlene is not interested in Black in the least bit,” she shot him a stern look that Remus’ own mother would have been jealous of, he was sure. “She’s into girls.”

“What…” Remus gaped at her as if he had just been Confunded. “What are you talking about?”

“I would have explained to you what I’m talking about ages ago but seeing as you refused to so much as look at me for weeks, that hasn’t been exactly easy.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well… I had some suspicions and I reckoned, if I did a little test to confirm that Sirius really wasn’t interested in someone else coming onto him very strongly…”

“What?” 

“I’ve heard things… And I wondered, too... And that day when you were at the hospital wing, before you both realised that I was there…” Lily continued to utter disconnected phrases as though she couldn’t see Remus’ confused face right in front of her. “But even before that… I started paying more attention and I started seeing all these little things… And I wanted to see for myself... Sirius really cares for you a lot, have you noticed?”

“Er… We’re friends, we’ve been friends for a little while, I would hope that he cares.” Remus couldn’t deny having noticed how attentive and accommodating Sirius had been acting but, surely, that was nothing out of the ordinary when you had been friends with someone for years.

“He couldn’t keep his eyes off you at the surprise party, the whole night.”

“Uh-huh…” Remus squinted at her now, wondering whether Lily was trying to play a prank on him or if someone had actually Confunded her.

“Well, he played dumb when Marlene approached him, he wouldn’t even acknowledge that she was openly flirting with him! And when has Sirius Black turned down a pretty girl asking him out?”

“Well regardless,” Remus rolled his eyes, “poor planning on your behalf, if you will allow me to be so blatant. I know for a fact that Sirius fancies someone. Do you mind?” He motioned at his legs, still glued together, and Lily waved her wand impatiently, freeing him.

“How so?” She looked as though she’d just been smacked across the face.

“I heard him talking about it to James and Peter. He even told me himself when I asked.”

“Who is then?!” She demanded, her voice going up.

“Dunno.”

“But… I really thought he fancied you…”

Remus couldn’t stop himself from emitting a bitter laugh. “Me? Where'd’you get that from?”

“Well,” Lily started slowly. “There’s rumours going around about how Sirius downright rejected three or four people that asked him out this year. Four or five, if you count Marlene… So now some people think that he must have his eye on someone specific. And, well, I thought - since he hasn’t been seen with anyone - it must be someone that he’s reluctant to make a move on...because maybe that someone is an old friend…” She trailed off, looking embarrassed now. 

Remus stared at her blankly as his brain worked to process what she had just said. “Sorry, what?”

“Well… Don’t you agree that that would make sense?”

“I would, but then we’d both be wrong. This theory of yours makes Divination seem like an exact science.”

The thought of someone seriously considering this to be a plausible scenario took Remus by such surprise that he didn’t know how to react to it. It sounded as though Lily was getting carried away with it all, perhaps not considering his feelings too much. What made it worse was that there was this prickling, nagging thought in the back of his mind sometimes; a thought that maybe Sirius suspected that Remus fancied him and found it humorous. That maybe, whenever he did or said something unexpectedly flirtatious, it was meant to poke fun at him. Like that night a little while ago, when Sirius had called him ‘my love’ so casually, like a perfectly delivered punchline to a joke. 

And Remus felt secretly gratified to see Lily’s abashed face. If she’d come to him with her ludicrous plan first, he’d have made her swear she wasn’t going to actually do anything. He wasn’t exactly delighted at the idea of playing these absurd games with Sirius. And, on top of that, getting someone else involved in the whole thing. But he still felt a little twinge of affection in his chest - after all, Lily seemed to have acted this way out of kindness and with good intentions.

“I thought if I…” She muttered. “I suppose I can sort of see now how this was a er, flawed plan of action…”

“Forget it. It’s fine, you interfering trout,” Remus mumbled, allowing a warm smile to stretch across his lips and Lily matched it with a significantly more guilty looking one. “I’m flattered - by the looks of it, you seem to really have believed this laughable idea of yours.”

“Honestly! I simply don’t understand why you’re so adamant that you’re categorically unlovable. You’re funny and kind and smart and attractive - yes, I said what I said - and yet, you cling to this persona of a weird outcast of a monster.”

Remus stared down at her with an amused expression; if she knew what he was, she would understand how comically accurate the last part of her statement was. “You’re only saying that because you feel bad now.” He tugged at her arm and started walking down the hallway; they were going to be late for Care of Magical Creatures.

“Oh, you’re impossible!”

“You know what, James will be overjoyed when I tell him you jinxed me.”

“Don’t you dare!”

“You’re not that different from that delinquent Potter boy after all,” Remus smirked sideways.

“This was different and you know it!”

“Different goals, perhaps. Same means of reaching them…” As they rounded the corner, Lily’s protesting squeals and Remus’ hearty laughter echoed off the stone walls.

[irndad]

lessons in love- b.b.

a/n: unofficial entry for @sgtjbuccky and @jaamesbbarnes follower celebration! i wasn’t able to snag a prompt in time, but i love you guys so much!!

summary: the things bucky barnes has learned while being in love, and the woman who taught him them. (it’s really sweet ur gonna finish w cavities)

wc: ~2k

In the mornings, she glows like starlight.

His mornings are different than they used to be. There was a time, not long ago (especially in the reference of his life), where time wasn’t an object, where days and nights would pass, and he would stay the same, stay in pain, stay chained or frozen or doing nothing he wanted but everything he was told.

It’s a strange kind of lovely, to wake up when he pleases, with sunlight falling all over his body, in the warmth of his own home. Stranger to have this woman, this tiny piece of heaven wrapped up in his arms. It’s golden all over, warm light and sweet vanilla lotion, the memories of laughter and knowledge that more is to come when she wakes.

She wakes as he thinks of it, and turns to look up at him, and he is as in awe of her as he always is. She smiles at him, her hands neatly folded over on her chest, propped up just a little bit. Her little sleepy grin- it’s the prettiest thing he’s damn never seen. Her smile is always so lovely, the first thing he noticed about her. The starburst of her eyes when she laughed, how she did it with her whole body, how she let the joy pull her in like a tide she couldn’t resist.

“Hey there, you,” she says, her finger tracing over his flesh arm. She’s on her back, next to him, and his metal one is on her back.

“Hey,” he says back, dragging her closer. She’s smiling still, warm fingers running up and down the length of the metal, a certain sort of warmth written across her features. SHe’s always been open with him, see, letting her thoughts paint her face like those green lights in the sky.

“What do you want to do today?” her voice is light, soft and sweet like warm butterscotch, and this is a thing she teaches him.

From the moment they met, she offered him the world. Let him decide things, small things, the type of tea they’d drink, which restaurant they’d go to. He’d never had sushi before, and on their third date, when she laughed at him drinking his nose because wasabi is spicy, okay, he felt like-

He felt like it was 1940, like he was the kind of man who knew how to love a girl right, how to be the kind of man who could be what she deserved.

She picks too, all the time, but the luxury of choice, of taking a beautiful girl on a date, in places like a sushi restaurant or a dive bar or a show-

She taught him normalcy isn’t out of the question, in fact- it’s in reach. Healing his happening, before he could even see it coming.

“I don’t think I really want to do anything, today,” he says, “I think you’re all the plans I need.”

____________________________

There is a certain kind of joy that is buried so far within the Winter Soldier, wrapped up in Bucky Barnes, so far from the man anyone could see.

He remembers things, sometimes, in dreams. The way his ma used to laugh, how she’d look at his father like a miracle, how she’d hum and dance while she cooked, and this simple, kind, forgiving love was something he’d known, something even then, had cherished.

And he’d forgotten.

More had it stolen, really. Time’s hard to grasp, and more often than not, he’s not sure if he’s ready to do any of what he does. Not ready to be an Avenger, not ready to be what everyone needs.

And he’d fallen in love, and on a summer day, heat wrapping around their home like a vice, the woman he loves is there.  She is humming, mixing something over the stove, wearing shorts and a tank top, humming something light, along to the radio. They have a little tabletop one, something she found in a vintage shop (which is honestly insulting because he’s pretty sure the thing is younger than him so fuck that). And she’s dancing to some song, and she spins around, dancing slightly to her own music.

She’s really- she’s the stuff stars are made out of, and, everyone is, really.

He knows, cognitively, that she is not so special. She is not the result of some omnipotent being blessing his life with something incredible. He knows she curses too much and burns her mouth on coffee and gets carried away easily.

She’s not perfect. God knows 70 years have taught him nothing is.

But she’s his girl, his girl who laughs too loud and loves too much and dances like no one’s watching even though he’s everything to her.

When he kisses her, he realizes something he maybe already knew. No one feels like enough, no one feels ready or worthy.

But she pulls away, and looks at him like a miracle, and he knows. He knows what’s truly possible.

___________________________

The fact of the matter is, she’s not the kind of woman who sits til, who’s only job is to look pretty and attained galas and be on his arm.

No, she is much more than that, strong and brilliant. She is more than the man she loves, more than her beauty, more than what people see.

But she is only human.

So on the days when she comes home and every over breath is a sigh, a heave of a weight too heavy to carry, he knows this. There are days like this one, where she is tired, and her bright eyes are dampened by stress and a clear sadness. She’s his whole heart, a piece of him, and he wants to gather her up in his arms, love her whole.

She couldn’t do that for him, no one could. He can’t for her.

So instead, he walks closer to her, brushes his left thumb over her cheek, standing between her parted legs, looking down at her with the ghost of a smile crossing his face. She’s sitting, on her desk chair, and he swears he sees tears welling up in her eyes

“Hey, you,” he says, as tender as he can muster. All he can think is give me a smile, please. As if a simple upward curve of lips could fix everything. Fix anything.”

“Hey sergeant,” she says, and there’s the teary voice. It’s his girl though, the one he loves so much, still flirting with him, a bit silly, when she’s the one who should be romanced, swept off her feet.

Because he’s a super soldier, he pulls her up, in a swift motion, and god it’s worth it to hear her quick giggle, and for her to be eye to eye with him.

“I look like a mess,” she says, wiping her eyes quickly, a stray tear or two escaping, rid of like they’re poison.

“You look beautiful.” He says it like an oath. She gives him another smile. “You always do.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re legally required to say that.”

“Didn’t you hear? No governments have control over my brain or anything anymore. I can decide what I want to say,” and he places his hand on the small of her back, pulls her in closer, “And I think you look gorgeous.”

She grins, the littlest thing, and leans her forehead against his.

She trusts him, when he wraps his arms around her middle, and she reciprocates. She trusts him, when he kisses her temple, lets her decide what she’ll tell him and when she does it.

“I love you for so many reasons, though.” He says, because he wants to, and he can. “You’re the loveliest thing I’ve ever known.”

And he taps her chest, with his metal finger, and it’s all so silly, so dreadfully sentimental, his girl crying in his arms and him tapping her heart and telling her what she’s worth to him.

But when she kisses the tip of his nose, and hugs him back, it’s the kind of sentimental, the kind of richness you can excuse having, because it’s worth the sweetness.

Maybe 100 years ago he wouldn’t have known how to do this. He was young and stupid, and even then, he didn’t know how to love right, didn’t know how to be the other half of someone’s heart, how to be what someone like her needs.

It’s an ability he holds close to his heart, and just like so many things, he wants her to have the best of it, best of him, and with any luck, she will.

_________________________

One morning, it occurs to him, slow as the sunrise and warm as the sun. They’re watching something on TV, her head on his chest, her fingers distractedly brushing up and down the length of his arm. She smells like vanilla and gold, and her messy hair is a halo across his chest.

It’s not particularly interesting, the show they’re watching. It’s some random show on Netflix, and she’s focused on the screen, her eyes trained on the characters, and he swells with fondness.

It hits him, her so close to him, wrapped up safe in his hold, that she is the best thing that ever happened to him. He can imagine what the shrill cynic in him would say that he doesn’t have the best of experiences to compare it to.

But she’s a work of art, from the way she laughs, to how she fumbles with her phone to take a photo of him, how they text in post mission meetings, how she calls him Sergeant, how if he ever nicks himself on anything, she puts a band-aid on it even though they both know he will heal within hours.

It’s care and kindness that fills his life, with her in it and the warmth she provides. There’s lessons to be learned about healing and changing and how to love when being whole seems like an incorrect concept. Maybe it is.

“You’re staring,” she says, and it’s a testament to how welcome her presence is that the sudden appearance of her voice is soft like waves upon the sand. Never anything but welcome.

She’s baiting him to do the thing they always do, easy conversation of love and dosmeticity and-

It’s not the right moment. He’s got the ring, and he really should take her to some fancy place, do something that matches the amount of joy she brings to him every second of every day. This is a moment on the couch, watching shitty TV. It’s not the right moment. The ring’s in a different room.

“Marry me,” he says, like it’s the most sacred thing he will ever say.

Her eyes are wide, bright and gorgeous like she’s surprised, but he’s not sure if she’s happy-

“Are you- are you serious?”

“I have a ring- I know I should’ve taken you somewhere, I actually have a reservation and I had this whole speech,” and he’s losing it, what he hoped this would sound like, smooth like vinyl and romantic and what she deserves,  “I just- I want to be next to you. Like this. Forever.”

It’s not enough. Not like the stories she reads. He’s not telling her her smile is the best thing in his world, how the way her hand feels his is the closest thing to peace. He hasn’t told her how she makes him a better man, how he loves her for everything she is, for all the things she’s taught him about life and love.

But when she gives him a watery smile, he has more to be grateful for, because she knows. She’s like that. She knows him.

“I’d be honored to, Sergeant.”

She kisses him then, laughter and tears and messy, hardly picture perfect, but perfect.

Perfect in all the ways a thing can be. In all the ways he’s learned to love.

@imthestarchild / @jitterbuck / @delicatecapnerd / @a-hecking-disaster @accio-rogers  / @bucky-stan-031017 / @thatgirl-xx-thatgirl / @winters-beauty /  @sergeant-32557038 /  @notimetoblog / @youeverdreaming / @starkkbloodd /  @who-the-hell-is-sebastianstan / @messy-random-bitch  / @heckin-good-holland / @afoxwonderland / @radicalstars / @magicwithaknife /  @thecreativeangel  /   @barnesvogue / @nedthegay/ @the-girl-with-no-wifi / @macfullyloaded17 / @iiincognitoo / @emgrace728 /  @dangerouslovefanfic /  @midtownsparker / @princessofasgard /@sammy-holland /  @livingoffsavvyillusions  / @yoitsnotkim / @pandartist /  @painterwithhope / @vampireloveandfun / @gracethegeek9902 / @not-reptilian / @hocohoran / @holtzmanndestroymyass /    @tomshufflepuff / @i-larb-spooderman  / @xanziedanzie / @hanscait / @theglowstickofdestiny / @spillingpetrichor / @assembledorotherwise / @natcad / @demonspawn2468 / @creideamhgradochas / @stormbreaver / @sebbysstangirl / @stylesletic / @sireennotsiren / @bvckybarnes / @thunderous-flower / @scarlettsoldier / @mylovelymarvel / @pizzapatrol / @averyrogers83 / @itsaherokink / @ailynalonso15 / @softlysgtbarnes /  @undiadeestos /  @tomhiddleston-is-theloveofmylife / @buckybonky / @prince-of-poptarts / @acupofhotlatte / @jaamesbbarnes @sgtjbuccky @desibarnes @zeilenkrieg @7thchevronlocked @waywardemo @nerd-without-a-cause

@haru-ririchiyo @brokenheartsauthor @laurfangirl424 @themoonstruckmagician

@m00nlightdelights

[ravenqueen89]

the dance that’s not a dance

This is is extremely late so it has failed in its purpose but was originally meant to be a ‘feel better soon!’ gift for the loveliest @briarfox13. Just a small tiny bit of her gorgeous and wonderful Saskia with her spiky boye Garrus Vakarian. It was originally meant to be just fluff but is really a very random hurt/comfort with some cuteness thrown in. Hope it’s a little heartwarming! I’m way too attached to these kids.

Title: the dance that’s not a dance

Fandom: Mass Effect

Pairing: Saskia Shepard/Garrus Vakarian

Rating: PG

Summary: Saskia is feeling unwell after Project Overlord. Garrus is there for her, as always.

Notes: Set after Project Overlord in a post-suicide mission/pre-Arrival ME2 timeline. Includes implications of anxiety, PTSD and characters being very upset. Really a bit of a ramble because I can never stick to what I initially want things to be. I hope it does the characters some justice <3

 Her knees are shaking, so she makes sure to stand instead of seeking the comfort of sitting. The shuttle ride is silent with the weight of what has just taken place, and she looks straight ahead of her, unwilling to even glance at the sight of Aite fading on the screen. Miranda is at the front of the shuttle, focused on a datapad as she usually is, despite having no one to forward reports to anymore, looking mildly nauseated.

Garrus is pacing, and Saskia shuts her eyes because no one can see her face, and she listens to the rhythm of his footsteps and tries to match her breathing to him.

She doesn’t know how this can feel worse than facing the Collectors, but whatever residual taste of triumph she had from that has turned into ash on her tongue. The cruelty of Gavin Archer feels monstrous, and Saskia will never forget the look in David’s eyes before he was taken aboard the Grissom Academy’s shuttle. She’ll never forget how Cerberus enabled this experiment, and if she hadn’t already cut ties with the Illusive Man she would go hunting for him right now just to spit in his face.

They’ve been tying loose ends in the wake of their victory over the Collectors, but she’d never expected this mission to take such a toll. She feels exhausted, her heartbeat loud and frantic in her ears, David’s screams still playing over and over in her head. She knows that she shouldn’t let it affect her this much, but she can’t stop it, the stress of the past few months finally using this opportunity to hit her all at once, and the horror of Project Overlord making her skin crawl. She’s struggling to catch her breath without anyone noticing, but she can’t and it reminds her too much of being unable to breathe in the vastness of space over Alchera, and that makes her chest feel heavy with dread. She’s holding on so tightly to the railing above her head that her entire arm is slowly going numb, but she refuses to turn, she refuses to sit down, because she doesn’t want anyone to see the panic on her face.

The shuttle shudders through turbulence and then Garrus is right there, right behind her, his hand next to hers on the railing. He’s not touching her but he’s a solid presence within reach and he hums something almost too low for her to catch, and she focuses on that and draws a shaky breath, and then another, and another. The small amount of space between them is filled with hesitation, and Saskia knows it’s because the change in their relationship is so new, and neither of them can figure out where the boundaries are now. There was no time to talk things through in the aftermath of the Collector base, the break with Cerberus adding a new layer of urgency to the remaining missions, and Saskia knows they’ve both been treading carefully around each other, but she doesn’t have the patience for that now. No one is watching them, so she lets herself lean ever so slightly against him, letting him carry some of her weight, and of course he doesn’t even falter, moving closer in response, the hand he has on the railing now also touching hers, their armour clinking together.

She focuses on him, and his strength reminds him of her own. She focuses on him, and she tries to remember all the words to the Russian lullaby her grandmother used to comfort her with, so long ago, and before she knows it the Normandy is in sight and her shoulders sag with relief. Garrus makes another low noise, his hand brushing against hers causing another clink, and she doesn’t need to look at him to communicate to him that she’s alright now. They move further apart before Miranda looks up again, and they walk off the shuttle together, as in sync as always.

*

Later, when Saskia is reading over the dossier for the next mission instead of sleeping, Garrus walks boldly through the door without knocking and then stops like the daring action has suddenly and belatedly caught up with him. Saskia looks at him and tries not to laugh at the panic in his eyes. Her gaze drifts to the way he’s crossed his arms behind his back, holding something out of her sight, and when she smiles at him he remembers to move.

‘Liara told me this is your favourite,’ Garrus says, handing her a bar of chocolate she never noticed him purchasing. ‘She also said to remind you that it tastes like toothpaste and that she judges you for it.’

Saskia laughs, holding on to the chocolate like it’s priceless, the scent of mint as comforting to her as ever. Garrus’ eyes are as soft and expressive as they always are when he looks at her, and for the thousandth time she wonders how she never noticed this sooner.

‘You asked Liara about my taste in chocolate?’ she asks, because the air between them is full of meaning and anticipation and she doesn’t yet know how to react. She keeps getting distracted by remembering the warmth of him, the way her skin’s pallor seemed to almost glow next to him, the way he looked at her when she pressed her forehead to his.

‘I know your taste in chocolate, but I wanted to keep the best option around in case of emergencies,’ he says, his voice warm like heated metal, and she shivers. She’d been cold before he’d walked in, but now she doesn’t remember what cold is.

‘And this is an emergency?’ Saskia asks, her voice stumbling over her breath, and she doesn’t even feel embarrassed because it’s just the two of them and she’s never felt more like herself than when she’s with him. She wonders if he knows, wonders how to put it in words, but he keeps looking at her like she’s something amazing, like he’s never seen a better sight, and she remembers that they’ve never really needed words.

Garrus reaches a hand towards her in lieu of a reply, and she tangles her fingers with his in a way that’s never felt clumsy despite the differences between them. Saskia lets him lift her from her seat at her desk and he draws her into an embrace and she leans against him properly this time, and he holds her, and just like that the tension that’s been coiling in her shoulders is gone. Just like that, he soothes her, and she hopes with almost desperate fervour that she does the same for him.

When he starts moving, Saskia doesn’t immediately take notice of his intentions. It’s a very gentle sway, like they’re back on the shuttle and adapting to its movement, but then it becomes more intentional, his hands on the small of her back guiding her into a few stumbled steps that she recognises as a semblance of a dance.

‘Garrus, what-’

He hushes her by pressing his forehead to hers, and then haltingly guides her in a circle around the room. Neither of them are very good at this, their bodies resisting each other’s movement in a way they never have before, but it’s slow and sweet and Saskia keeps looking at him instead of focusing on how clumsy and hopeless she is when it comes to dancing. She kisses his scarred mandible and laughs when the gesture makes him stop in his tracks like he’s forgotten how to move entirely. The way he looks at her makes her heart flutter and she kisses him again because she doesn’t know how else to express the warmth glowing like a star behind her ribs. She lets her lips linger over his scars and he holds on to her even tighter, leaving no space between them. He’s in plainclothes rather than armour, so she’s fully aware of the warmth of him and it makes her forget how to breathe.

He’s frozen in place, and Saskia holds on to him in reply, her arms looped around him, and this time she’s the one who leads them into a dance that’s not truly a dance. It’s not about the steps, it’s about being close, it’s about comfort, it’s about them, and Saskia moves with him and laughs again, feeling more weightless than she has in months.

[ab-artist]

You know who i love?

My mum, she is a strong woman, so confident she dresses really pretty most of the time and give no fucks about what anyone thinks, she is sassy, and whenever im with her i feel strong and confident

My dad, he is really smart, good with technology and medical stuff, he showed me anime and dad jokes, and he also showed me to be wise, to think, be considerate, he also showed me its okay to be childish

My brother, we are very close, we get on each others nerves but we snap any ones neck if dare to hurt the other, we watched anime together (showed me tons), our humor is alike, so if im in a bad mood he'll get me to smile, also showed me COD

my older bro, we dont talk much, but we care, im allowed to sit in his room if anywhere outside it gets to loud and overwhelming for me

My little brother, most adorable boy i know, very much like me but still very him. His imagination always has me laughing, we rough house and play tic tac toe or connect four. And if anyone even dares to look at him ugly, let alone hurt him, they will regret meeting me

My cats. They are the loveliest ball of love i have had the fortune of meeting and keeping, tho i lost the third one to an illness, i will forever love them ALL with my heart

My grandpa and grandma, its always fun and calm over at their place, my grandpa is great he give me chocolate cake hehe

My best friend, whom i truly am grateful to have met, and keep staying friends with, i dont what i did to deserve her, we have been through a lot, so much pain, but together we made it, and i would not trade for anything in the world, i will never wish to leave or kill myself because i will never want to be apart from her

Thomas sanders, i would still call myself a newb even if i knew of him for like almost a year now, i love the sander sides, the advice he and they give, he is so nice and caring and sweet and everything the world should be...accepting. Literally i could pick a random video on a bad day and i would smile and my day would be a bit brighter

The sander sides fandom. Honestly u guys are just so amazing, i cant even begin to explain how much i enjoy the worlds u have created with ur stories

Unfortunately, there is someone i don't really love, not fully. Myself. Even with all the things i have, i have had a good life so far, i somehow found myself thinking i dont deserve it all. I am not confident, smart, i have a temper that is hard to keep under lock and key, im annoying, i get to familiar with people (once i have deemed them safe), i am not good at anything. Maybe i can sing or draw a smidge, but can i do with that? Im not a teacher, i cant explain things very well. The only point i see in my life was being there for my best friend.

But i do like myself, i will do my best for you, will be there for anyone, i will work hard if given something to do, i care not of what people think of me, am proud to be me.

One day i will love myself, i very much hope i do.