#Also ugh anon you’re brilliant

[caterpillarinacave]

You chose (Yes) the Consequences are as follows:

The man seems relieved you're staying to help and asks some questions about your own rope situation, surprised to hear you actually repaired the damage, he offers to help the best he can and the three of you head to the forest where you find trees fading in and out of seasons, the sky differs each time you look, and the ground shifts like rippling sand despite its solid foundation, it unnerves you, but you feel secure enough to push forward until you reach the field of your interest, which as the pictures indicate are covered in glowing material, loops of rope dot across in lines over the field which remind you of a seam, or maybe that's just the comparison that the writer of your book on all this had used, but she wasn't wrong for sure, so you set up shop, your friend off to the side minding his own business, the scientist curiously taking blurry photos and notes while you wander through the damage, the sickly air cracks drily, the rope puddles on the ground and hangs limply in the air, there's so much, it feels all wrong, like an itch deep in your bones, you pick a spot and begin to work, showing your methods to the scientist as he tries to replicate your actions, he does his best, but he can't quite get the hang of it and he keeps getting distracted reading through the old journal print out you'd brought along to reference, so you do end up shouldering the majority of the work over the weeks, not that you mind, the movements are becoming familiar, you can let your mind wander in peace, the soft rope gliding across your hands, the cracking shimmery air sliding back towards normalcy in increments as things fall into place, it's comfortable if a bit tedious and that's probably why you don't notice the person off to your side before they politely clear their throat to get your attention, you startle to see a woman, she's in fairly dated clothing and wears a fond smile as she works alongside you to repair the damage, she greets you with the name of the author of the book you've been using, you wonder how she's here but she only shrugs,

"You stand here patching a hole in the fabric of the universe, are there not odder things to happen? Though, between you and me, this is not the first I've met a fellow seamstress or seamster, even divided by time as we are. It always a unique experience of course." You puzzle at this, continuing to work on the ropes, she takes over a spot you had struggled with earlier, quickly straightening it out,

"More inquisitive minds than I have worked to measure and define this problem, but I do not mind not knowing, I think I prefer the mystery of it all." You let that pass over you a moment before you enquire about what would happen if you had walked away,

"Oh, it'd have fixed itself eventually, this fabric of ours is self-repairing if given time. But like a wound, it bleeds without care. I'm sure you've seen the consequences of this?" You agree, this conversation alone is proof of her words you imagine and she laughs, the both of you chat amicably, she gives you a few tips and tricks for the situation at hand, but also for general seamstry, you discuss the present and answer her questions where she has them, after a while the project begins to reach completion, together you've made great time, finishing several days earlier than you'd thought it would take, as the last of the rope disappears your newfound friend begins to fade, you say your goodbyes and sit in each others company as the space between time closes,

"Will you keep attending to the fabric in your own time?" She asks, you think on it, this wasn't anything you'd ever planned on, you could walk away of course, but there were plenty of times to have walked away before all this, you think you may keep going, when you can of course, she nods and with a final farewell she's gone. In the end you start a webpage that the scientist offers to run in his free time, he'll keep a look out for strange things possibly related to the rope around the world and have a place where people looking for help can reach out, the group he's a part of chips in, covering travel costs and occasionally coming out to help or study the phenomenon when you have jobs that appear, and for the most part your life continues on, while every once in a while you and your military trained companion head out to some new place in the world to mend the universe.

Congrats!

You've unlocked: Meet the Seamstress!

You've earned the title: Mender of the Universe!

You've earned the award: Carrying on a Legacy!

[nightcolorz]

I am once again coming into your askbox to dump my headcannons.

Armand is 100% paying for Daniel’s top surgery, the fact that he canonically spoils his lovers (*cough* night island *cough*). He definitely would be over the top (positive) about taking care of Danny post surgery too. Armand also definitely wants to examine the drains and other medical stuff :)

yk how when you get top surgery, a lot of the time your nipples loose sensation? I think once Daniel further recovered, Armand would wanna see if that’s the case for Daniel bc he’s definitely been autistically researching about this and is just waiting for the chance to start poking and prodding at Danny’s chest 💀. Daniel would also loose his mind at being examined like this bc he’s a horny freak <3 (when bae examines you like you’re gonna be dissected 🤤😍 AWOOOGA)

Also relating to Daniel’s adhd and Armand’s Autism, IMAGINE THEM WITH A SHARED HYPERFIXATION/SPECIAL INTEREST OH MY GOD!!!! this line of thought reminds me of the part in the books where Daniel is teaching Armand about the modern world, and they’re just doing a bunch of random shit together 😭 LIKE JUMPING FROM DIFFERENT FIXATIONS OHHH MY GODDDDD.

Anyways thanks for letting me ramble!! I hope you’re doing well <3 Don’t really have anything cohesive to wrap this up with other than a sensory experience I think Armand fucks with is that floral foam stuff ‼️

YAY HEADCANONS ‼️‼️‼️

omggg Armand sugar Daddying Daniel’s top surgery with his fraud money and being autistically fascinated by the medical and anatomy shit is so canonnn I love that 😭😭 Peak freak for freak omg. I need an “Armand tests Daniels post top surgery nipples out and Daniel gets horny over being treated like a test subject” fic SO BAD, anon ur so brilliant ur mind is a beautiful place.

THE SHARED FIXATION HEAD CANON IS CANON AS HELL!!! Peak neurodivergent romance is bonding over shared brain rot omg that’s so cute, so them. We know from blood and gold that Daniel def fixates on similar things to Armand (model trains definitely fall into the mundane technology realm) so they absolutely had a bunch of moments where Armand is like lover we must go to the car wash to study how the automobiles behave and Daniel is like ugh baby I’m so tired wait omg fr 😮‼️ that sounds so fucking fun let’s do this

thank u sm anon I love ur head canons <333 Armand ABSOLUTELY fucks with floral foam, beautiful incredible ten out of ten no notes

[bluemoonscape]

Same anon and yes that devastating piece was the one I was talking about! :D AAAA, your post about the closeups on Till's collar was what inspired me to take a closer look and it just clicked Thank you so much for entertaining my silly ask!! I love how you described the arches of light and went further into the kind of lonely/alone Till and Luka are, I knew you'd like the detail! Also how you worded that they're all under scorching lights... Let me give you one more heartwrenching parallel for the soul!

It's so very similar to the Ivantill meteor shower, but notice how artificial and static the lights coming from the stages in both instances are compared to the meteor shower, which most likely was outside the garden. The illusion of freedom, but never free, do with that what you will! :)

ANON *jumping up and down* HI AGAIN

The collar comparisons between Rounds 2, 6, and 7 are really interesting to me. I noticed them completely by accident but now I can’t stop thinking about it. In R2, Till is held back by the leash—he’s just rebellious and unpredictable enough to be a threat (clearly. Rip Freddie) and yet something keeps him metaphorically tied to Alien Stage, too, which caused him to run back to Anakt Garden, speaking of that meteor scene. Did he go back for Mizi, or did he simply believe he didn’t deserve escape, the latter theory which has been floated recently? In R6 he doesn’t need the leash anymore because he’s too defeated and drained to attempt anything crazy. Obviously Ivan took care of the excitement factor for him there, but the collar/choker in that round is such a taunt. He’s not tied to anything he can see, but he’s held down more than ever. Ivan’s sacrifice woke him up. It was his cure. In R7 he’s not attached to anything, and even his collar is merely an ornament.

ANYWAY COLLAR RANT ASIDE—another scene comparison I’m going to chew on things 😬 Ugh, you’re so right, the contrast of the bright, pounding lights of the stage and then the natural, softer, but no less brilliant lights of the real sky… during the meteor scene, Till and Ivan are so tantalizingly close to freedom, but like I mentioned in the collar rant, Till is tied to the garden, and Ivan himself is only tied to Till, so when Till goes back, he follows like he has no choice. In his mind there probably was no choice. A life without Till? Unimaginable.

And now Till is free of the leash with seemingly nothing but a thin collar holding him back, because we know he wants to explode. He wants to fight. Ivan gave him that fight back. But he’s in front of… maybe millions of aliens. He’s about to face the prince and face of those millions. He’s the closest and the furthest he’s ever been from freedom all at once. Ivan was the last person keeping him tethered to this competition; emotionally, he’s ready to be free from this place.

Physically, he’s literally never been more screwed.

[bengals-barnesbabe]

You’re my mission is sooo good! fjsbdjsjdjsh I hope it gets the love it deserves!!

(If you’re down, I would like to request a pt 2 🥺) (maybe she sees that James just used his leverage to catch her. And, well it is partially the case, yes. But he also genuinely wants her with him. But she doesn’t see that in her state. All she sees is a man she loves betraying her for his new found family. So, she escapes as eaSiLY as how she was captured. But this time, I kinda imagine Bucky being possessive and feral over her and finding her (?) like he hates it bc not only does she hate him now and thinks that he chose everyone over her, it’s also in vain bc she’s also out of his grasp, AGAIN)

ofc only if u want to!! And I’ll leave it up to ur brilliant mind 🫵🏻 just pls give them a happy ever after love and life together 🥹

Anon I’m so glad you liked it, thank you so much for the support😊🥹🩷

When I tell you I read your ask over 10 times then RANNNN with it😋 I think you’re going to love what I came up with. As someone who used to call herself the queen of angst, ugh this mini series fuelsssss me. But don’t worry I have a good ass ending for them.

So I’ve decided ‘You’re My Mission’ is now the first part of 3. And yall will be getting the next one sometime next week🤗

Predictions…….. She gon EAT💋

[redheadbigshoes]

hi again. its the anon whose sibling showed her yhe actor and now im feeling something...

to answer your question about whether thoughts about doing intimate things with him results in positive or negative reaction.... if im being honest................. its positive

and for the one about if the idea of a regular guy who looked like him proposed doing similar things with me, whether id be ok with that idea and reality happening or not.......... honestly............ the answer is yes

so i guess im bisexual. fucking brilliant. idk why that makes me sort of.... disappointed with myself. like for all the talk ive talked about rejecting the patriarcy and not playing into the stereotypes that society puts on afab people and being a proud lesbian who has no chance of ever playing into societys demand for afab people to always and only end up with men... i just have to go and be attracted to them anyway....

ugh its whatever. I'll get over all this bs. thank you for helping me brainblast though. love your blog. shame i wont be able to really respond much now that im bi and not a lesbian

Hi!

First is that labels are not always easy to figure out. Actually most of the times it’s really hard to know who you are, especially in the society we live in. You don’t have to immediately label yourself as something if you want, there’s other labels that you could use (or maybe use until you’re sure about what you are) like sapphic or queer.

Being attracted to men as a AFAB person does not mean you’re not rejecting the patriarchy, because if you’re genuinely attracted to them the patriarchy has nothing to do with your attraction. We don’t choose who we’re attracted to, and also being attracted to men doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll end up with one.

I’m glad you like my blog and I hope you know whether you identify as lesbian, bisexual, or anything else my blog will be always a safe space to vent.

[fbfh]

leo x artist!reader painting on his back hcs

warnings: some swearing, drawing dicks, a "that's what she said" joke, leo cries a little cause your art is really pretty

wc: 600

requested: FUCK YEAH ILY ANON <333

song rec: sincerely - atlas

a/n: literally wish I could leo's back so bad I'm gonna go do some art after this lol

tags: @avashaye @perseajohnson @afidiofobia @thatmultifandomloser @yelenabel0vaswife @almostjollypizza @fictionalcomforts @lizziebitch33 @jacksondeeznuts @shellosisbae @anything-forourmoony @i-dont-remember-a-lot @chasingpj @1dpjohoohp @mystic-writings @babiesimagines @dreamerball

also tumblr user jacksondeeznuts if you see this it won't let me tag you so if you changed your url you can either send me an ask or just resubmit the tag form lol (that also goes for anyone else reading this you can resubmit my tag form or send me an ask if you change your url yk <3)

Yes yes he is exactly that type of boyfriend

He loves it when you paint on him and you love painting on him

So it’s wonderful for all parties

At one point he’s like, so what are you gonna paint today?

You’re like idk do you wanna help me decide??

He’s like FUCK YEAH

You let him look through your pinterest where you have all your art references and painting inspo saved

He feels so fucking honored you’re letting him look at all of your art references

Everything that inspires you to create is right in front of him

He inspires you to create too but don’t tell him that or he’ll blush so hard he explodes

He looks through, enamored at all the images you saved

He can see exactly why you saved them too

He can see what each one will look like in your style, with the gorgeous colors you always choose

It gets him really excited

In spite of how much he wants to see how all of them would look as your paintings, you do have to start somewhere

He eventually picks a photograph of a house and backyard at night

The house is bright against the dark sky, and there are pretty flower beds here and there

The lighting is warm and there are fairy lights strung about, giving everything a hazy golden glow

The archways and balconies on the house make it look like it’s something straight out a fairytale

He’s so excited to see what you do with it

He loves the feeling of laying on the floor on his stomach while you sit on his hips, bushes running over his soft skin

It tickles a little at first, until the first layer of paint is down

God he loves this

He loves feeling your hands and the brushes kiss his skin, loves how the cool paint gradually warms up as it dries

He loves getting to participate in the astoundingly beautiful things you create

When you make little comments and mutter things to yourself

He thinks it’s the cutest thing ever

“Ugh, it won’t blend right”

“That’s what she said”

You both burst out laughing

“Stop laughing, you’re going to make me mess up!”

Once when he kept making you both laugh you had to pull out the big guns

“If you don’t stay still I’m going to paint a dick on you”

The thing is he know that would be pretty too

Everything you paint is so pretty

You painted squidward once and it actually made him tear up

One time you painted the prettiest night sky

What he didn't realize was that you had literally made constellations out of the freckles on his back

You ended up recreating it on canvas later

It's still one of your favorites

He will wait as long as he possibly can before he has to wash it off

He has a collection of polaroids of all the pretty stuff you’ve painted on him

He even has a few paintings you’ve made for him

He’s so fucking obsessed with your art

Literally

Like whenever you give him a painting he cries

It’s just so beautiful he doesn’t know what to do with himself

Even you little doodles

You random drawings of dicks and joke drawings and jason making out with a brick

They’re still so beautiful

He doesn’t think he knows much about art

Or people really

But he knows you are an amazing brilliant artist

And an amazing brilliant person

He just feels so lucky to have you in his life

[laurelier]

Hello 🥺 What do you think about the piano in Falling being very prominent in the introduction and during the chorus, yet quiet in the verses? Thank you!

Hi!!! Ok a) of all this is such a sweetly phrased question, bless you, b) I’m sorry I’m answering this so late, I am literally awful about putting off answering asks for weeks— but c) of all what do you say we just call it even because ugh you made me listen to Falling on a Sunday morning, dsdfjkdsjf so many feelings. <3 but also </3, jfc I love this song so much.

Big fan of this question and mainly what I think is just— I love the instrumentation of Falling just because it’s so simple? It’s just a lil piano. And in the verses, you’re right, it’s really subdued. I’ve always thought of it as an emotional build kind of deal, like, I think it’s an attention-catcher in the intro, for one, and the chorus is supposed to be an emotional center of the song, so that’s where the piano gets really evocative and loud again; and I love how H draws attention to his voice by having less/lower piano in the verses, where he tells the real story of the song, and lets the piano rip in the chorus, as the emotion of it all pours out of him.

But also, in this song, I like to think (likely somewhat baselessly, lmao) that musical cuing and like, presence of musical themes are a thing? This is getting a little further from your question, but one of my favorite things about the way Falling sounds is how well it pairs with Sign of the Times. If you sing the SOTT chorus over the Falling chorus, I swear to you it sounds so good, it’s heavenly, it’s so lovely. And from there, I'm kinda like, well, the piano in Falling’s verses, that makes me think of the slow piano in SOTT’s verses, those slow, low repetitive chords that are common to both songs. I had this pet theory a while ago that the three-note upward progression at the end of SOTT and the three-note downward progression at the end of Falling could kind of mirror one another, if you did a bit of jostling em around— and at the least, I think they really sound nice together and they sound similar, which makes sense because they were written by the same person, but. Falling’s themes of self-loathing and self-reflection and loneliness and hopelessness and guilt, put in conversation with SOTT’s gritty hope, its kind of dismal look toward the future and its attitude of, like, this is what we have, hush your crying, the kinda resigned, Dylanesque all you can do is do what you must lyrical vibe— that combination is such a powerful one to me. Coming from a not dissimilar sonic background, SOTT asks why we’re always stuck in the same cycles of hurt and longing, and then in Falling we hear from a person in the middle of exactly that: a cycle of hurt and longing that makes it feel like the room is filling up with water, even as in another moment that person advises themselves to rise up into the sky, leave it all behind, let it all go.

So, in short, the piano in Falling 1) makes me think about Harry’s artistic choices about drawing certain emotions out of his listeners, the storytelling journey of a song, where to code information and where to code emotion and how you can use instruments to help support that; and 2) makes me wonder about lyrical or sonic similarities between his songs, even across his albums, and the ways that makes me feel as a listener.

Thanks for the question, anon, hope I answered it and hope you are having a happy day <3 if you've got thoughts and want to come back and share I'd love to hear! Also going to link @finelinegynandromorph brilliant post about falling because it feels in line with this ask, they have some incredible thoughts about the vocal/harmonic choices H makes in this song, a post worth multiple reads for sure <3

[obsidianpen]

I'm so in love with Blood and Gold, I've been re-reading it these past few days again and you have put so many details in every single chapter from the start, it is absolutely full of easter eggs! 

"The Duel" will always be my favorite chapter, it's so, so good. 

I've been loving Hermione's stay in New York and all that she has accomplished there, and I cannot stress this enough; Walter is an amazing character! I adore him, there is so much authenticity in him. 

You are carefully crafting such a complex story, I know every single chapter tells more than it seems if one pays enough attention. And I've also noticed that is not only what the characters do, but also what they potentially could do but don't.  

Ugh, you have a brilliant mind, I'm no writer so I truly cannot comprehend how you came up with such a great story, but I just want to express my admiration, from miles away because I'm from a country that doesn't even speak english. 

The glimpses to Hermione's past before going back in time, her classes with Holloway, are so crucial, they are full of information. 

Now I'm truly curious how Riddle is able to get into Hermione's dreams, although he did say it was a complex series of enchantments, it's still as advanced as Hermione messing with people's memories. Or more, what do you think?

I truly cannot let this fanfic go, so much that if I miss it, I reread it, is that good.

I think I've written too much, for your sake I'll stop but I could write an essay haha. You are amazing, amazing, amazing.

😭 thank you so much anon!!! ❤️ I’m so glad you’re liking it ❤️❤️❤️ especially Walter; he’s actually based on a real person who was my bf when I lived in the city haha

[inkykeiji]

babyyy💕 i need to know!! do the characters in bmb AU have social media?? does reader post her lavish gifts and expensive trips online?? does tomura show off his bby in his ig? or are they concerned abt their safety? does dabi spend hours on his phone going over reader’s pics? is daddy tomura controlling over what the reader posts? UGH THE ANGST POSSIBILITIES ARE ENDLESS😭💕💕

love you lots, stay safe💕💕💕

honestly anon this is such a brilliant question oh my god

tomura is not an instagram—or social media—type. he doesn’t understand the point and, quite frankly, he thinks it’s a total waste of time. he has more important, more interesting things to be doing than mindlessly scrolling through social media feeds. he limits his princess’s time on social media as well, claiming it’ll rot her brain if she spends too long on there. admittedly, he does think it’s really fucking cute, the way she gets so excited to post all the pretty presents and splendid trips and ornate dinners he spoils her with, but he definitely does need to approve every single post, and even masquerades as an anonymous follower, just so he can keep tabs on her (and yes, he has her notifications on).  

despite his great fashion sense and keen aesthetic, dabi’s social media feeds/timelines are a total mess. they’re a combination of kitten videos, dudes wiping out during extreme sports (snowboarding and skateboarding in particular), and good looking people. originally, he was really just on there to kill time when he was bored, only using it for a quick laugh and rarely spending more than an hour or so total on any given app for the day. if he’s being honest, he still doesn’t understand the point of a ‘theme/concept’ or brand for your social media, and he actually didn’t post to his accounts until he started hanging out with reader (before this he had no desire to post shit esp when he has no friends on there anyway and is cautious about safety). but then, one afternoon while they were lounging around lazily in the sun, she asked, soft and shy with excitement toying with the corners of her lips, if he had an instagram and if she could follow it. and suddenly, he felt like posting more. it felt like a way to communicate the feelings he so desperately couldn’t put into words, sharing certain songs that said it all so much better than he ever could on his stories, or giving her a glimpse into who he his, into his mind and his life, by posting about his favourite sci-if novels and films, knowing that they’d spark the start of a conversation the next time he saw her. eventually, social media becomes a way for him to document the time he spends with her, snapping photos and filming cute videos, all under the guise of it merely being ‘instagram content’. but truthfully, he really likes collecting these memories, and he keeps them all safe and sound in a cherished folder hidden deep within the recesses of his phone. he definitely always gets giddy when she posts something with him in it, or something that is clearly an inside joke between the two of them, even tho he'd never admit it <3

reader loves social media and has a solidly curated feed. it’s one of her hobbies, more or less; she genuinely enjoys taking the time to carefully craft it all together, from setting up the photographs to editing the pictures to arranging her posts in an aesthetically pleasing way. she definitely does delight in showing off the gorgeous gifts her Daddy buys her and, thanks to the luxurious and expensive content and her decent photography skills, she has a fairly large following. being fawned over by complete strangers is such an ego boost, and she’d be lying if she said she doesn’t receive a little jolt of pride with each ‘luckyyyyy :(’ and every ‘you’re so pretty!’ comment. however, like dabi, she also thinks of her instagram as a place to chronicle her life; a place where sentimental memories and special moments are preserved forever <3

[heyjude19-writing]

Hi, I just finished Remain Nameless and it's absolutely fantastic, one of the best works I have read in 17 years of being part of the fandom. Thank you so much for this gem! Of course one cannot notice your references to the album "Ceremonials" by Florence + the Machine. I am a huge music nerd and probably every second of my life is connected to some particular song or album. I wonder if you could share what does "Ceremonials" mean to you and why did you connect it to your brilliant story? Tnx

Hi anon,

Thank you. So much. It means more than I can say to receive a message like this about my fic.

I… think we are the same person when it comes to music? I may or may not schedule all of my album/playlist listening for specific times of the year and yes i realize that sounds weird and unnecessary but that’s how I am wired.

a n y w a y

Ceremonials is one of my all-time favorite albums. It’s pretty close to perfect. It’s equal parts lush, heavy, light, haunting, sexy, and all these years later I still swoon over it. It’s got songs I just sink into when im listening to them. Any music that helps me disappear for a bit when i need to is a treasure.

Each song just builds and builds (god can we talk about the quiet simmering of Breaking Down??? And she doesn’t fully unleash until the very end of it??? There’s this restraint all the way through and she only lets loose on the final notes and it’s so fucking sinister in the way it creeps up on the listener ugh i love it. And Bedroom Hymns is one of the sexiest songs ever, change my mind).

I’ve got a whole dissertation for you here anon, if you want to know why I chose Remain Nameless as the title of the story. I think the first time I ever heard this song I fell in love with it, though I didn’t immediately associate it with my fic. When I finally sat down to right RN, I was listening to this album a lot and fuck if it didnt hit me over the head. So many of these songs lyrically and thematically just fit with the story I was telling.

Because, pun absolutely intended, this album covers the spectrum of human experiences for me: of love and loss and longing and fear and happiness and hope.

Also, if you’re curious I did make a playlist for RN, featuring a few tracks off Ceremonials of course.

I will nerd out over music any time anon, thank you for this delightful ask.

[hotchnersbiitch]

Silent Treatment

A/N: I’m not sure how I feel about this one, I hope you all liked it. Anon I hope this is what you wanted, I tried my best haha. 

Request: anonymous

Paring: Spencer Reid x reader 

Category: fluff 

Warning: None really 

Word count: 1,500 ~ 5min 59sec 

-

There was a serial killer that was killing sex workers in downtown Miami and you and your team were in charge of catching him. It was a Saturday night and the team knew the unsub would be on the prowl, they also knew they had to send one of the girls on the team undercover to catch him. Hotchner wanted to have you go undercover since you looked the most like the victims, of course you agreed, it was your job. But your boyfriend on the other hand wasn't very happy about the decision.

“Y/N, you cant do this. This guy is dangerous you could get hurt.” Spencer says to you as you did the final touches on your make up. You were wearing a purple tight-fitting mid-thigh dress with black heels, you felt very exposed but you knew you had to get this guy off the streets so it was worth it to you. 

“Spence, baby, I know but this is our job. I can't just let this guy go on killing these girls. We are in this job to catch the bad guys and if this is what I have to do to get that done then its fine with me. It's not ideal but so are most things in our job.” You say as made your way over to JJ and Emily to get you all wired up. Spencer just sighs and shakes his head deciding to drop the topic. Once you were wired up and ready to go you and the team drove over to the main street where sex work was popular. You'd be lying if you said you weren't nervous, you've never gone undercover before, you didn't want to mess it up and risk losing the unsub. You got out of the SUV with the rest of the team, Hotch gave you a rundown on what to say, you took a deep breath and turned to your not so happy boyfriend. 

“I love you okay? I’m going to be fine,” you say kissing his cheek before walking across the street to the sidewalk waiting for the man to pull up in the car that Garcia gave you a description of. About 10 minutes later sure enough he pulled up right beside you. 

“That's him, remember what I told you,” Hotch said into the earpiece you were wearing. You take in a deep breath before walking to his driver's side window and leaned in just a bit making sure to show your self off, it felt wrong but you knew what you had to do. 

“Hey baby, you looking for a date?” You said in a flirtatious tone, the unsub smirked evilly at you. 

“Perhaps, tell me what you had in mind.” He said in a monotone voice, it sent shivers down your spine. You didn't know what to say before you herd Rossi coming in through your earpiece. 

“Play along Y/L/N, flirt with him, make him feel powerful.” 

“I don’t know, how about you find out for your self.” You say biting your lip suggestively, the man let out a satisfied groan. 

“Get in the car, we can go to my place.” you felt your heart starting to speed up. 

“No can do sexy, I got to know how much you're gonna pay me, then maybe I’ll consider it.” The words spilled out of your mouth in a sexy tone. Your unsub did not like that answer because he gripped your wrist, hard. 

“I said get. in. the car.” He said in a harsh tone, you gulped not knowing what to do but it didn't matter because you heard your team behind you. 

“FBI! Don’t move!” Derek yelled, quickly you pulled away from the man's grip and moved out of the way to let the team do the rest of the work. You made your way back to the SUV as Derek ripped the man out of the car handcuffing him, Rossi nodded at you when you arrived back. 

“Good work agent. I know that was tough.” He says in his warm fatherly voice before patting your back. You thanked him and started removing your wires with the help of JJ. You looked over at Spencer and shot him an apologetic smile but he just shook his head and walked away, you sighed sadly. 

“Spencer is mad at me.” You said, JJ chuckled. 

“He will get over it, he’s just jealous and worried. For being a genius he isn't the brightest when it comes to girls.” She said removing the final wires and you nodded. She was right, you were doing your job, ugh, boys are so confusing sometimes. The car ride back was silent between you and Spencer, you didn't even sit with him like you usually did, you sat with Derek and Prentiss and chatted quietly with them on the way back to the hotel to get your stuff and catch the plane back to headquarters.

After stopping at the hotel and changing into leggings and a blouse for the plane ride back home, you walked out to the car to wait for everyone else. Spencer was there, perfect this gave you a chance to talk to him. 

“Spencer I don't understand why you're mad at me, I was doing my job.” You say but Spencer just ignores you. 

“Really, you're going to ignore me? You're acting childish.” You say in an annoyed tone but Spencer kept at it. 

“Oh my god.” you huffed out before getting in the car climbing into the back seat waiting for the rest of the team so you could just get back to your apartment with Spencer, that was going to be a fun ride. Soon enough everyone was in the car and you were at the airport. You got into the plane after Spencer sitting next to him hoping to break his silence, Derek chuckled at your guy's lovers quarrel. The plane took off and Spencer pulled out a book he’s read millions of times before in an attempt to block you out, you just sighed and scooted closer to him. 

“Spencerrrrrr.” You whine quietly trying to distract him. 

“Babe stops ignoring me, please, I love you. Don't be mad at me.” You say making him look at you but only to have him look back at his book. Spencer knew his girlfriend did nothing wrong, he was just jealous, as weird as that may sound he was. 

“Pretty boy, give your girl some lovin’. She caught the unsub” Morgan says with an amused smile on his face as his friends' actions. 

“You know she was only doing her job, Reid.” Emily joined in and you smiled at your friends' support. But Spencer remained steadfast in his silence. You smirked when you get a brilliant idea. You pulled the book out of Spencer's hands, he let out a huff, before he could do anything you climbed into his lap sitting so your legs were still on the couch you two were sharing. 

“Spencer,” you mumble kissing his face everywhere except his lips, you could tell he was already getting flustered, he wasn't much for PDA, especially in front of the team. 

“Y/N...stop.” He mumbled and you chuckled. 

“There's that handsome voice, are you gonna stop ignoring me now?” You say in a teasing tone, Spencer just huffs and you chuckle placing a kiss on his lips, Spencer had to the resist the urge to kiss you back. You let out a pout and crossed your arms over your chest. 

“Okay fine, I'll just sit here until you decide to love me again.” You said your arms still crossed as you sit in his lap. JJ and Emily were giggling at your antics. After a few minutes of him not budging you started poking his face, but that still didn't do anything. So with you on his lap still you just wrapped your arms around him in a hug, you knew Spencer could never resist your hugs. Spencer sighed starting to feel bad and a few moments later he wrapped his arms around you too. You smiled into his neck, glad you finally broke him. Derek playfully cheered in the background. 

“I’m sorry for being selfish, I know you were only doing your job. I just... I just got jealous.” He whispers in your ear so only you can hear, you pulled away only a little but staying in the embrace. 

“You were jealous? Of me fake flirting with a serial killer?” You say softly trying not to laugh and Spencer grumbled embarrassedly, you just smiled and shook your head. 

“You have nothing to worry about I'm all yours forever and always.” You mumbled before placing your lips on his, he gratefully kissed back. Happy with the outcome you climb off Spencer's lap but still stayed next to him handing him his book back. 

“Are the lovebirds all better now?” JJ teased, Spencer just blushed and you nodded. Happy your silly boyfriend was over his unnecessary jealousy. 

[ickle-ronniekins]

breaking the rules

request from anon: Your writing is truly amazing!! I just read your fake dating with Georgie and I loved it!! I was wondering you would be up to writing a fake dating piece with Freddie?!☺️

word count: 6.9k sorry i keep getting carried away

A/N: ugh. my heart. i cannot deal. thank you all for being so kind, day after day, with each and every piece i write. and thank you, also, for being so patient. i know it’s taking me a while to sift through these requests. it means the world to me! love you all tons

tag list: @mintlibri @seppys-return-to-madness @how-do-life-does @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @semmelsemi @cottageoflove @laneygthememequeen @snakesonaplane-7 @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @bobduncanlover | message me if you’d like to be added lovelies!

“Hey, Y/N! Would you mind, for the sake of the entire team, to not be so bloody brilliant during every single match? You’re making us look bad.”

You smile, clutching the quaffle to your chest as you zoom rapidly through the air, leaving dust in your wake as you fly past the Slytherin team members, leaving them baffled and confused before they can fully register just exactly what’s going on. You hoist the quaffle through the hoop and hear a loud roar from the Gryffindor section; you must be up by a hundred points by now. You see Malfoy near the goal posts on the opposite side, looking positively murderous.

You make your way around the interior of the pitch, only to reply to Fred Weasley as you pass by, “I can try, but—don’t you want to win?”

A hearty laugh escapes his lips, and he’s pummeling bludgers left and right with his twin by his side. He wonders now, watching you, if Gryffindor would be as good as they are without you on the team. You’re probably one of the most talented Chasers Gryffindor has seen in years, he reckons. He knew it the first time he saw you mount a broom in a flying lesson your first year at Hogwarts. Since then, inseparable you two had been.

There’s a light, airy feel to the match, which is, to Fred’s surprise, nothing at all what he had expected this morning, especially with Slytherin being the opponent. But you seem to be more in rhythm with the wavelengths of this match than ever before, to the point where Harry is actually taking his time to try and find the snitch—he’s making Malfoy sweat it out a bit.

But when a nasty bludger smacks the end of your broom and you’re knocked to the ground, landing painfully on your arm, Madam Hooch begins shouting out punishments at the Slytherin beaters, McGonagall is rushing to your side with Madam Pomfrey, and Fred, George, and Harry are nearly kicking Malfoy into the ground when his sickeningly irritating mock laughter floats in the air between them.

— -

“Merlin—is a side effect of drinking too much Skele-Gro that you end up a bottomless pit?” you ask nobody in particular as you continue to shovel eggs, toast, bacon and sausage into your mouth. Next to you, George laughs and pats you on the shoulder.

“Glad to see you’re feeling better,” he tells you.

You peer over and smile—your bones in your arm are fully restored, but still in a sling; Madam Pomfrey had insisted. Across the table, Fred is looking rather sullen indeed.

“Brighten up, would you, Weasley?” you kick him playfully under the table and his stoic face breaks into a toothy smile. He’s feeling rather guilty, he is. Wasn’t able to stop the bludger in time. Neither was George. As if you’re reading his thoughts, you tell him, “It’s not your fault, you know.”

“Yeah,” he replies, stirring his spoon in his cup of tea. A bit too loudly, he continues, “Slimy Slytherin beaters—”

“Easy,” you say in a low voice, as the entirety of the Slytherin Quidditch team glances over at your table, and Fred’s gripping his fork tightly in his other hand. “Don’t need any more of us taken out of the next match, do we?”

Another safety measure of Madam Pomfrey’s. No Quidditch for a few weeks, at least. This means, of course, missing the next match: Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff. You’d tried to fight it, but when her mouth had formed into a thin line and she’d crossed her arms indignantly, you knew there was no changing her mind.

Why is it, Fred thinks to himself now, that Slytherins tend to get away with everything? The punishment of the two beaters was absolutely nothing like he’d expected—one detention each with Snape, who had basically grinned at the sight of your broken arm and shoulder. He’s so bloody tired of it, he wants to give them a taste of their own medicine. Perhaps, if he picks George’s brain, he can think of something—

His thoughts are interrupted when you kick him again under the table. “Hello—earth to Freddie?”

“Sorry,” he replies, biting into his toast, “what did you say?”

“I was saying—” you begin, and Fred notices his twin is now down a few seats talking with Ron and Ginny, leaving you two alone, “would you mind helping me pack up my bag after breakfast? It’s proving rather difficult with one arm since I have this sling across my other shoulder—”

Before you can finish, you both hear a group of Hufflepuffs from the table over discussing something animatedly. Fred catches bits and pieces of the conversation—he swears he hears ‘bludgers’ and ‘poor girl’ quite a few times. Before he knows it, they’re standing up and waltzing over to the Gryffindor table—more specifically, toward you.

“Oh bloody hell,” you mumble under your breath and look at Fred with wide eyes. You don’t need to say anything else for him to understand. Leading the pack of distraught looking Hufflepuffs is—Fred’s least favorite person in the entire world, and that’s including Malfoy—your ex boyfriend.

“Hey, Y/N,” he says awkwardly as he approaches the table at once before you and Fred are able to escape. He looks down at your shoulder and says in a tone Fred can’t decipher as sarcastic or genuine, “real sorry about your arm. Terrible thing those beaters did. Are you okay?”

With a slight eye roll from you and a laugh he tries very hard to suppress, Fred finds himself lost in his thoughts again. He’s transported almost immediately to the common room, to a very late Monday night after a very long detention with Professor McGonagall.

When he sprang through the portrait hole that evening, ready to divulge to you just exactly how he’d landed himself in detention the night you were both supposed to continue your weekly Monday traditions of exploding snap over small glasses of Butterbeer, he was a bit taken aback when he saw you crying in the corner, peering out of a window at the starry night sky. Immediately, his insides turned.

“Y/N?’ he asked when he finally reached you, nervous of how you were going to react to his very late arrival.

You sniffled a bit and wiped your tears away with your shirtsleeve. He felt surprised when you said softly, with no twinge of anger, “W-where’ve you been?”

“I’m so sorry,” he said, sitting across from you on the window ledge. He let his bag fall to his feet with a dull thump. “McGonagall caught Georgie and me right after class—I was dragged to immediate detention without being able to come back to the common room to tell you—I could use a good butterbeer right now..” but his voice trailed off when he noticed that you weren’t really listening. Your eyes were letting tears escape with no effort, and he spotted your hands trembling against your knees. You weren’t upset about the game of exploding snap. His heart sank into his chest when he realized this was something deeper. “Hey,” he said, placing a hand over yours, “are you okay?”

“H-he,” you started, and Fred could tell that you were embarrassed. You couldn’t even look him in the eye. “It’s over. He broke up with me.”

“W..what?” Fred asked, his hands suddenly felt extremely cold. He squeezed your knee and waited.

“He said he.. sees me as a friend,” you told him, and Fred shook his head in utter shock, “he doesn’t.. feel anything a-anymore. I think..” you continued, your voice slightly higher than before, “I think there’s s-someone else.”

You threw your head into your hands and began wailing. Fred had never, ever, ever seen you cry before, but he didn’t like it. He wanted to do everything in his power to make it stop, make you smile, make you happy.

“What a complete git,” he told you before pulling you into his arms. You were nearly on his lap. You rested your head on his chest and let out painful sobs for a few minutes while he thought, in a panicked state, of words to say. You’d always been tough. Independent. Happy-go-lucky. So to see you in this emotional, co-dependent, messy state—he felt strange. Off balance. It made his heart hurt.

“Hey,” he said after a few minutes once your tears seemed to slow, “how about we make you some tea, get you into some comfortable pyjamas, and then we can talk through it—how does that sound?” When he noticed you were about to argue after pointing to the butterbeer and cards on the table even though he knew you didn’t really want to play, he continued, “Nah—not really in the mood to get my arse kicked by you tonight.”

You laughed through a hiccup and squeezed his hand tightly before pulling his arms around you again. “First, can you—can you just stay here with me?”

He felt you tense up beside him and he knew that you were trying your hardest to fight back more tears rising to the surface. He pulled you closer to him and wrapped his arms tighter around you, enclosing you in the warmth from his own body.

“Okay then,” he replied and felt you relax beside him, “I can do that.”

“Maybe we can—we can talk it over.” Fred’s brought back to the present when he feels yet another light blow to his shin from you under the table. He blinks and looks into your eyes, which are wide, and he feels himself go weirdly alert.

“I don’t think so,” you say to your ex now, almost laughing a bit; he’s looking rather annoyed and stunned at being turned down. You swallow over a lump in your throat, “Besides, I’m—I’m seeing someone else, so, I think you’d better leave.”

“What?” he says breathlessly, almost looking heartbroken. Is he trying to mend his ways after watching you hit the ground with a loud splat! a few days ago? Fred’s insides turn. “Since when?”

“Since..a few weeks ago.” Fred can sense the panic in your voice as he watches your eyes shift from your ex to your breakfast plate and to him, a cherry red color flooding your cheeks and the tips of your ears. And without a second thought, you say, “Right, Fred?”

And Fred’s agreeing before he can fully digest your words, he’s nodding without breaking your gaze, he’s smirking at you without remembering there are other people around him. Finally, he looks up into the very baffled face of your ex boyfriend. “Yeah, we are—so—I’d bugger off if I were you, mate.”

“You two?” he asks, looking at Fred with what can only be described as pure anguish. “Together?”

“It’s time to go,” whispers another Hufflepuff, pulling the very distraught looking boy in front of you both back to their table before he can say anything else to you. Fred watches as he slumps in his seat and rubs his head, as if confused. Then, he turns back to you and raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, Freddie, I’m sorry!” you shake your head rather quickly and bring a hand to your mouth in shock. “I panicked, I just—he kept trying to ask me to grab lunch with him, I didn’t know what to say to get him to leave me alone, ‘m so mortified. We can just—pretend it never happened, you don’t have to do anything, I can just deal with whatever it is he has planned, it’s fine—”

“Hey.. take a breath,” he laughs and teases you before reaching across the table and squeezing your hand. “It’s fine, I get it. Besides,” he takes a quick bite of an apple and smirks at you, “I’m honored you chose me to be your fake boyfriend.”

“Well, you’re the only one here, silly.”

He pauses to consider this, and then says, “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that and tell you again how honored I am.” You laugh at this, and he grins cheekily at you as he continues, “I mean, imagine if you’d done that to George, he would’ve stumbled over his words—you know how he gets under pressure sometimes—gets flabbergasted, he does. You’re lucky ‘m quick on my feet.”

“Well then,” you reply, sipping your tea as Fred watches your nerves subside, “glad to have you along for the ride, Weasley.”

— -

It’s difficult watching the team’s practice. Fred had told you to maybe stay in, not watch, he’d fill you in later on your replacement. You’d insisted on coming anyway. But he was right.

They’re not completely out of sync—the third year Chaser they snatched up is pretty good for never having really played before. But if Fred’s being completely honest, he misses you on the pitch more than anything else. It’s just not the same without you.

You enter the Great Hall for dinner, and you’re so annoyed at doing everything one-armed that you nearly rip the sling right off of your shoulder, even though Madam Pomfrey had insisted on wearing it for two more days. Okay, maybe you did it a little too fast. “Ow,” you say, rotating your shoulder back and forth to stretch the muscles, as if they’d been asleep for months and months. You furrow your brow in pain.

Fred snorts before sipping his pumpkin juice. “How’d that feel?”

“Not the greatest,” you admit, taking a seat next to him.

Just then, he slings an arm around your shoulder and places a light kiss to your forehead, taking you by surprise. You turn to him with a raised eyebrow. He places his cup gingerly on the table. “Git sighting, on your right.”

You stealthily look on the other end of the Great Hall, your ex trying his best to look distracted, but there’s no chance in hell he didn’t see this exchange between you and Fred. Solemnly, he follows his fellow Hufflepuffs from the hall.

You both hadn’t even noticed George, Ron, and Harry take their places beside you at the table, eyes wide and faces flushed.

“When the bloody hell did this happen?” Ron nods at the two of you, shoving pork into his mouth.

“I’d like to think if my two best friends got together, they would’ve at least mentioned it to me—how long have you two been sneaking around?” George teases you with a wink.

Both you and Fred let hearty laughs escape your lips, as if to say, Sneaking around? You’re out of your mind, but instead, you both say, “We’re just faking.”

“Come again?” Ron and Harry chorus together.

“Faking—you know, Ronniekins, pretend.” Ron’s ears turn a bright scarlet color. “Just for fun. Y/N’s lovely ex bombarded her the other day after her injury, kept bugging her to grab a bite with him, so she very politely took me by surprise and told him, before consulting me, that we’re dating. Of course I obliged—being the lovely gent I am.”

“It did not happen like that—”

“You’re absolute rubbish at lying, you know.”

You throw your hands up in surrender, your face a nice light shade of rosy pink. “I panicked!”

“Precisely,” Fred and George say together. “And how long are you two planning on keeping this little scheme going for?” George asks.

You and Fred turn to each other. It is now revealed, Fred realizes as he watches as you peer into space, that you have no plan. He leans back in his seat, looking rather satisfied at the fact that you haven’t come up with any details at all. “I—I hadn’t thought of that. I just kind of.. went for it. I was acting on the very daring nerve that comes with being a Gryffindor!”

“Right you were,” says Fred through a mouthful of potatoes, “barely skipped a beat, she did. Reckon she couldn’t wait for it to happen—she nearly pounced on me right in front of him.”

The boys roar with raucous laughter. You roll your eyes and turn your attention to George, Ron, and Harry, who are now wiping away tears from their eyes. “You don’t really believe him, do you? This will not last long. Believe you me. It was purely a spur-of-the-moment adrenaline rush decision.”

“Hey, Y/N?”

You turn back to Fred and ask in a sweetly sarcastic tone, “Yes, Freddie?”

“I’m invoking a rule. No falling in love with one another.” He winks and bites into his chicken.

You scoff at him, while the others chuckle again. “Ah yes, darling—because that’s so very likely.”

— -

When Fred finds you sitting underneath a large oak tree in front of the castle, he laughs softly when he sees you in quite a frazzled looking state: your hair is in disarray from pulling at it, the bags under your eyes make it look like you haven’t slept in days, and he can almost feel the pain radiating from your tired muscles.

He sits down next to you in the grass and teases, “You’re quite a sight for sore eyes.”

“Oh, shove off,” you reply, not even looking up from your books. But after a few seconds of silence, the two of you fall into fits of laughter.

Fred nods at the books you’re so very immersed in. “What’s so important?”

“D’you think,” you begin, flipping the pages rapidly, “if I can find a spell that can produce a change in thought process on another human being, and somehow manage to stealthily pull it off and use it on Madam Pomfrey, she’ll change her mind and let me play in the next match?”

Fred cocks his head to the side, peering admirably at you, and smiles sweetly. “It doesn’t look very likely.”

“Ugh, I thought you’d say that.”

“But hey—there’s always obliviate,”

“Honestly, it’s getting to the point where I’m actually considering it.”

“Sure,” he says teasingly again, “I’d pay quite a lot of galleons to see you use any type of magic on a staff member, let alone something as dangerous as a memory charm.”

You cross your arms defiantly. “Don’t think I’ll do it?”

“No,” he smirks, “I know you won’t do it.”

You narrow your eyes at him and give in. Fred can’t help but laugh. “Okay, well—it would be really dangerous! But c’mon—I’ve gotten involved in a fair share of mischief with you and your brother; need I remind you of the time you landed me in detention my second year? A mere twelve year old, in detention…”

“Reckon that’s when you put this whole fake boyfriend thing into action, did you? When you fell for me all those years ago?”

“Ha-ha, you’re wickedly hilarious, Freddie.. seriously, funniest bloke I’ve ever met..” Your voice trails off when you notice something a few feet away, but Fred’s still thinking about how you called him the funniest person you know, even if it was in a sarcastic tone. But deep down, he knows you’re completely serious. He can feel his heart begin to soar a bit. His meandering mind is interrupted yet again by someone walking along the water’s edge—an unwanted visitor. Quickly, you shift yourself closer to Fred and say in a hushed voice, “Hurry—put your arm around me!”

He can’t help but stifle a laugh at your extremely flustered state. “Anything for my girl.”

You fit in so comfortably in his body that he doesn’t even notice how much time passes by. You spend the afternoon immersed in books, while Fred is resting against the tree, falling in and out of sleep with breaks to fix some malfunctions on some very small inventions of his and George’s. Each and every time he looks up, he notices the very curious looking ex boyfriend of yours watching you both, as if he’s trying his very hardest to prove that the two of you are just pretending. And each and every time Fred turns his attention back toward his inventions, he finds himself pulling you tighter and tighter into his arms.

— -

You and Fred are walking rather reluctantly through the corridors to your next class. If only you both had a free period, you’d be able to catch up on some work. But alas, here you both are, walking very, very slowly to Defense Against the Dark Arts.

“How’s the team holding up? I’m dying to get back out there with you.”

“Miss me that much, do you?”

You narrow your eyes and the unmistakable sound of mock laughter from Fred bounces off of the walls. “I miss Quidditch is what I mean. It’s killing me that I can’t join you lot—especially with the match just a week away.”

Fred smiles softly at you, feeling a twinge in his heart, knowing that you won’t be able to play, regardless of your completely healed shoulder. “I know. It’s killing us, too. But come the new year, you’ll—oi, bloody hell, does he just spend his time following us around, or something?”

Fred nods in the direction of the unwanted visitor yet again, and he grabs your hand quickly and continues to walk down the corridor, careful to avoid eye contact. That is, until he corners you both.

It’s not in a violent sort of way—but rather, curious. You’re both bracing yourselves for yet another attempt at getting you to rekindle things, when he takes Fred by surprise. “Why is it, Weasley, that whenever I see you two around, you very quickly grab her hand or sling your arm around her shoulder? What is this—just a ploy?”

“Come on,” you say to him softly, and Fred’s feeling very, very nervous that your facial expression will tell your ex everything he needs to know. “Leave us alone, would you? We’ve got class.”

“Prove it to me, then,” he says now, crossing his arms. “If you two’re really together, then kiss her.”

“What?” you both say aloud, flabbergasted. You look at Fred, who’s doing his very best to bite back a smile, and it’s becoming difficult to not laugh in your ex’s face.

He smirks at the both of you, his cronies surrounding him doing the same thing. Fred squares him up, and it’s easy to tower over him, Fred’s 6’3 frame swallowing him nearly whole. “I don’t think that’s such an odd request—kiss your girlfriend, Weasley, and I’ll leave you be.”

It’s obvious to the both of you, now, that he is basically waiting for you all to admit that yes, you’ve been faking, the entire time it hasn’t been real. You open your mouth to speak and Fred notices the panic in your eyes, the truth bubbling up inside you. So he does the only thing he can think of—he wraps his arms tightly around your waist, pulls you close to him, and presses his lips to yours.

You try very, very hard to hold back your surprise, because you’re extremely aware of the group of Hufflepuffs now watching you both share a kiss that is supposed to look like it happens all the time. You’re sure you’ve lost your voice now. His lips are soft, softer than they look, and Fred’s finding it difficult to remember why you two haven’t been doing this the entire time. He pulls away very, very slowly, hovering close to you with a cheeky grin on his face, before breaking completely and taking your hand in his again, squeezing tightly. Fred notices the scarlet color of your face now, turns back toward the stunned man in front of him, and replies, “Is that all? My girlfriend and I have class, if you don’t mind—”

You swiftly walk your way through the group and you and Fred nearly fly down the hallway, his face as red as his hair, his smile as bright as the sun, and you bring your hands to your lips and you swear you can feel the electricity surging through them, just as they had when Fred kissed you just a few seconds ago.

“You were going to tell him!” Fred’s laughing now, outside the entrance to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, but he can feel his heart thundering in his chest due to the heat of the moment. There’s nothing quite like an adrenaline rush. You reply, “He—he knows we’re lying!”

“Well, now he doesn’t,” Fred replies with a cheeky wink. “C’mon—I made you a deal, didn’t I? Couldn’t let that git get the last word. Now he’s got no bloody idea what’s going on.”

“How can I ever thank you?”

Fred swallows over a lump in his throat, peering deeply into your very bright eyes. He knows what he wants to say, and he’s about too, but something stops him. Something holds him back. Instead, he grins, shakes his head, and slings an arm across your shoulder, making sure to hold onto you just a little bit longer this time.

— -

Fred, George, Ron, and Harry are sitting in the library looking positively ghastly. Ron and Harry are very reluctantly working on a Divination essay that Hermione had finished a week ago, while the twins are racking their brains to finish this petty assignment from Snape.

You wander inside and Fred notices, for the first time in a few days, that your sling is back on your shoulder. Concern floods through his body. “Hey,” he says, immediately pulling you into his arms, “are you okay? Is it bothering you?”

You’re positively beaming—that’s the only way Fred can describe is. Your smile is quite bright, looking happier than you have in months, even with your arm in a sling. “Yeah,” you tell him sweetly, taking a seat next to him, “hurts a little. Probably just slept on it funny, or something.”

“Be careful,” he tells you, snaking an arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him, completely ignoring the assignment in front of him, “let me know if you need to go to the hospital wing, okay?”

You nod and begin to slowly pull spell books from your bag when you notice the others across the table, looking at you both with what can only be described as mischievous grins.

You and Fred look at each other, and then at them. Fred’s hand tightens around your waist. “What?” you ask together.

“You know he isn’t here, right?” Harry asks you both. George and Ron are focusing very hard on their parchments, and are not doing a very good job at stifling their laughter.

It’s almost immediate that Fred unwraps his arm from your waist, and your face is burning with color, and Fred’s insides are beginning to tighten due to embarrassment. But before he can speak and defend his actions, you speak up, “Oh, erm—could’ve sworn I saw him—must’ve been my eyes playing tricks on me, then. Anyway..”

The rest of the afternoon is spent in utter silence, recovering from that tiny slip up and moment of embarrassment. And one by one they leave—first Harry, then Ron, and then George—who, by the looks of it, is nowhere near done with his assignment—but he claims he has somewhere he needs to be, and vanishes through the doors of the library before either you or Fred can do anything.

About an hour later, you ask Fred, “Could Snape be any more vile? Why did he assign this stupid essay again?”

Fred laughs softly, “because some Ravenclaw started insulting his teaching methods in the middle of the lesson—remember?”

“Oh yeah,” you say, the memory coming back to you now. Brightly, you say, “Hey—want to get back at that Ravenclaw and plan some elaborate type of prank to make this whole assignment just a little bit more bearable?”

Fred turns toward you with a surprised expression on his face. He smirks and shakes his head in admiration, “I think I’m becoming a bad influence on you.”

You bat your eyelashes at him and say, “Maybe. Would that be such an awful thing?”

And then he pulls you nearly all the way into his lap, begins tickling you and poking you in the ribs, and you begin to flail in his arms and laugh hysterically, when Madam Pince angrily shushes you from the other end of the library. You flip your hair out of your eyes and regain your composure, and Fred is suddenly very aware that you’re still seated in his lap, your face only inches from his, the bright color of your eyes sparkling in the sun flooding in from the windows. Right. You’re not actually technically together. He swallows thickly and watches as you bite down on your lip. You’re both about to say something, hearts thundering loudly in your chest, when suddenly you break the silence and slide yourself off of him, back into your seat and say, “We’d better head to the feast, Freddie. Don’t want to be late.”

— -

“Anyone fancy a game of exploding snap before bed?”

Ron’s sitting in the middle of the huddle, finishing the last of his dessert from the feast, while everyone around him is slumped in their seats looking positively exhausted.

George says sleepily, “Can’t mate—we’ve got a late night practice tonight.”

“D’you think Angelina will give me a beating if I just sleep through it?” Fred asks nobody in particular, his eyes closed.

“Yes,” you, Harry, George, Ginny and Hermione say together.

“Oh fine, you lot are out,” Ron waves his hand in the direction of the Quidditch players and then glances excitedly at you, Ginny, and Hermione. “Ladies? Anyone? Feeling kind of lucky this evening.”

Ginny snorts at this. “You? Lucky? Luck would be me not absolutely obliterating you in a game—not you winning. That’d be a miracle.” Her older brothers chuckle quite animatedly at this comment; it’s certainly woken them up a bit.

You grin at Ginny and then say to her very angry and embarrassed looking brother, “What she means to say, Ron, is that we’re all kind of exhausted due to lack of sleep, because someone—” you shoot a glance toward another Gryffindor girl on the other end of the Great Hall, “—put an amplifying charm on some Muggle contraption of hers last night, music kept us up till nearly dawn.”

Ron turns back toward his brothers now, looking confused. “No way you could’ve heard that from the girls dormitory, or Harry and I would’ve been up all night, too! So why are you two so bloody exhausted?”

“Usual mischief,” Fred and George chorus together, winking at the youngest male Weasley.

Ginny picks up her bag and says to the group, “I’m heading to bed. You two coming?” she glances at you and Hermione.

You glance back and forth between Ginny and Fred and bite your lip. You’re absolutely knackered, but you wonder whether you should go to practice, just to be there, just to watch, just to show you’re still devoted. Fred picks up on this and shakes his head. “You’re tired—go to bed. Promise you’re not missing much. Reckon we’ll all be rubbish due to exhaustion, anyway.”

“Okay,” you finally reply, albeit begrudgingly. Fred places a quick kiss to your cheek, the group stifles laughter, and you, Hermione, and an extremely baffled Ginny make your way upstairs to the common room, leaving the boys to their jokes in the very crowded Great Hall.

When you enter through the portrait hole, Hermione wishes you both a good evening before heading up the stairs. This leaves you and Ginny alone in a completely desolate common room. You remove your shoes and stand across from the fire, letting the warmth of the flames radiate through your body, when Ginny clears her throat.

“Care to tell me what’s going on between you and my older brother?” she says cheekily, grinning at you. She so very much resembles all of her siblings.

You laugh softly, running a hand through your hair and stretching your arms behind your head. “I thought Ron would’ve told you.. It’s nothing, Ginny. Promise. We’re just pretending. My ex has been strangely remorseful about the breakup lately, trying to get me to talk to him and what not—Fred’s just helping me out a bit.”

“By pretending to date you?”

“Yeah..” you say a bit guiltily now. “Yeah, it sort of happened in a moment of panic. Don’t worry, though. None of it’s real. Just till it gets the other one out of my way—then we’ll go back to normal.” You turn back to face the fire and it suddenly feels much, much hotter than before.

“But this is the normal you actually want, isn’t it?”

This takes you by surprise. You turn back slowly, now facing Ginny, and she’s wearing a genuine grin. “I—I dunno what you’re talking about.”

“I’ve watched Fred and George for years,” Ginny tells you, “admiring their recklessness and rebellion—but in turn, this also means I see who they get on with.”

“Meaning?”

She smiles softly, looking a little sulky actually, which is so very unlike Ginny. And she confides in you, and she’s acting very vulnerable which makes your heart soar, “I’d give anything for Harry to look at me the way you look at Fred.”

You swallow over a lump in your throat, and Ginny can easily sense your nervousness. She reaches out and places a gentle hand on your shoulder. In a very hoarse, soft voice, as if your vocal chords have been strained, you plead, “Please, please don’t tell him.”

She doesn’t respond to this exactly, but you know she’ll keep her lips sealed. She asks, “How long?”

“I—I dunno,” you tell her truthfully. You bite your lip to keep your heart jumping out of your throat, “over time, I suppose.” You continue to tell her of how everything unfolded, how Fred had jokingly told you to not develop feelings for him, how he’d kissed you that one day in the corridor.

There’s a few moments of silence between you both, but there’s nothing uncomfortable about it. In fact, it’s the most comfortable you’ve ever been with one another—secretly longing for the boys who don’t seem to look at you both the way you so deeply yearn. Finally, Ginny breaks the tension and says, “Your secret is safe with me. Just be careful, okay? I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

Is this her way of telling you that Fred doesn’t feel the same way as you? That these feelings you have for him are a hundred percent one sided and are not at all reciprocated? It’s as if she’s reading your thoughts, because she tells you, “I’ve no idea how he feels—he doesn’t tell me anything at all, real git that he is,” you both laugh at this exchange, and Ginny echoes herself, “Just be careful.”

“I will,” you reply, now realizing that she’s has given you quite a lot to think about, “Thanks, Gin.”

— -

Fred’s feeling positively blue, if you will. He’s standing smack in the middle of the corridor in his Quidditch robes after a truly rubbish weekend practice, staring at the spot you were just standing. It’s like you’re still there, he can still smell your perfume, but he reckons you’ve probably already made it back to the common room by now.

Just then, he feels a hand on his shoulder. He jumps in surprise, and turns around only to be face to face with George and Ginny, who laugh at his skittishness.

“You alright, mate? Coming to the Great Hall?”

“Yeah.” Fred’s voice sounds vastly different in his own ears; it’s hoarse and broken, and he doesn’t understand why. He coughs a bit, and then echoes himself, “Yeah,” except he doesn’t believe it, and neither do his siblings.

George stops bouncing his broomstick between his hands at once. He looks once at Ginny and then back at Fred as the corridor begins to fill with students, “What’s going on?”

“Sh-she ended it,” he replies, and the words feel foreign in his mouth.

“Who, Y/N? The.. fake thing?” George asks, lowering his voice. “Maybe the git is finally leaving her be.”

“No, that’s not it. She wouldn’t tell me. She was.. weirdly quiet. She told me that she was worried things are going to get messy and she’s afraid rules are being broken on her end.. has she said anything to either of you? What is she even talking about?”

George responds quickly with a, “No, nothing,” whereas Ginny hesitates a bit, and then responds, “No, Freddie. She hasn’t.” But Fred can sense that his little sister isn’t giving him all of the info. Had she talked to you? Does she know what’s going on? Then George nudges his brother and asks a bit cheekily, “Does this make you upset?”

“No, no, of course not!” Fred says a bit aggressively, but both of his siblings just cock their heads to the side, as if to say, Really, Freddie, we can see right through you. “I—I mean—I just.. thought we were having a bit of fun.”

“Yeah,” George begins, while Ginny remains quiet by his side, “okay, you were having fun, but.. what I’m asking you, Fred, is—do you maybe want to be with her for real? And that’s why you’re upset?”

When Fred doesn’t answer, Ginny finds her voice. “We know, Fred.”

“Know what?”

George and Ginny say together, “That you fancy her.”

Fred runs a hand through his hair. He’s feeling aggravated now—he doesn’t like when his mind and thoughts get picked apart by people closest to him, especially when he’s trying on his own to piece together exactly how he feels. But he comes to realize, as his heart begins to beat faster when he thinks of you, that his siblings are right. He’s felt this way for a very, very long time.

Without showing just how much he really feels for you, Fred tells them, “Yeah, erm, okay, I—maybe I have some.. feelings,” he says through gritted teeth and George can’t help but stifle a laugh at his twin’s nervousness. Fred punches him in the arm. “But she kept saying that she’s breaking rules—but what rules? I haven’t the foggiest what she’s on about! I don’t even know if she feels the same way!”

“Fred,” Ginny says quietly, “you jokingly made one rule with her when you two began this whole ridiculous stunt.” When Fred just looks at his sister quizzically, wondering what the bloody hell she’s on about, she opts to continue, “you told her you’re not allowed to fall for one another.”

Realization hits Fred like a ton of bricks, George throws his hands up in confusion, and Ginny pushes on Fred’s chest and grins cheekily at her older brother, leaving poor George baffled beyond belief at this secret language his other two siblings seem to have. Ginny nods in the direction of the common room, “Just go get her already, would you?”

And Fred’s flying through the corridors and up the stairs, he’s pushing past students and professors alike, he’s running hands through his messy, windswept hair and he’s climbing through the portrait hole, only to find you sitting on the ledge near the window looking out at the stars, just as you had all those long months ago when he found you crying.

“Hey, Freddie,” you say when you turn to face him. “Everything okay?”

He doesn’t answer—he pushes past the desks and chairs blocking him from you and does the one and only thing he wants to do, the only thing he’s ever wanted to do for as long as he can remember now—he scoops you up into his arms, presses his forehead to yours, and kisses you. For real, this time.

Your surprise is overridden by the slight, exasperated moan that escapes your lips before you wrap your hands around the back of his neck. His fingers are dancing across your hip bones and then make their way up your back and into your hair. He kisses you once, twice, three more times before fully breaking, and hovers close to you again before pulling away completely to see the sparkle in your eyes, the bright smile plastered across your face.

As you push down any nervousness rising to the surface with a quick swallow, you say, “So.. where’ve you been?”

Fred laughs haughtily now, remembering that time all those few months ago when you’d said the exact same thing in a completely different context. He’s finding it beyond difficult to not kiss you into oblivion right now, especially as you bite on your bottom lip to try and suppress a very large grin.

“Sorry, love, I got tied up with my thoughts—but I can stay here with you now.”

He pulls you into a tight embrace before his lips find yours again. You can both hear voices outside the portrait whole. It’s obvious to you now that you have mere seconds before your alone time will be so very rudely interrupted by fellow Gryffindors.

“I broke the rules,” you tell him with slight tears in your eyes, playing with the baby fine hairs at the nape of his neck.

“Me too,” he admits breathlessly, swiping his thumb across your cheek. “I broke them a long time ago.” His heart begins to thunder inside of his chest at the feeling of your lips forming a smile against his, and he’s almost positive you can hear it—but he doesn’t care. He wants you to know you get his heart racing—more than pranking, more than firewhisky, more than Quidditch—more than anything or anyone in the entire world. He continues after another small kiss, “I reckon some rules are meant to be broken, though, aren’t they?”

reblogs & feedback are always appreciated, darlings. thank you for reading and requesting, much love x

[bailey-reaper]

IT IS COMPLETE! i don’t think it’s going to fit in one ask, or i tried sending it earlier, IT DIDN’T WORK HAHA, so uh, i might break it into pieces

After months of searching, he found them.

He finally found them.

He could enact his revenge, embrace the pure rage that he had kept hidden within the depths of his heart. How dare they turn him into a vampire without his permission? He wanted to live normally, enjoy his precious time with his brother, but no, they had to come waltzing in, ruining his life with a single bite.

He had never liked the vampire life, though, he supposed it didn’t matter that much, at least in the face of society. He was viewed as some sort of supernatural being anyway, with the way he presented himself and the rumours, nothing changed that much, though he was sure that Klint suspected something had changed.

His sigh echoed amongst the solemn walls, and Barok slowly walked towards the end of the corridor, preparing himself for this ancient vampire. He was sure they’d be powerful, so he had to be prepared.

Revenge wasn’t easy, he thought, as he reached to open the door at the end of the narrow corridor, but at least I’d be getting some closure on this whole vampire thing. If I were to be hopeful enough, perhaps I could reunite with my brother once more, as a human.

Upon opening aforementioned door, Barok was greeted with the sight of an… intriguing vampire to say the least. They were napping, sleeping peacefully upon an elegant velvet couch, with papers stacked across them.

This… was the almighty vampire that had chosen him? Resting quietly, apparently burnt out from whatever human affairs they had been doing. This… was perfect for him, was it not?

Strike! Here’s your chance! His mind raced with such thoughts, as he drew a weapon, inching closer to their sleeping figure.

Before he could do or say anything, though, the previously sleeping vampire awoke in an instant, eyes gleaming with wonder, yet also an exhaustion that Barok could never quite describe.

“Hm? What are you doing here?” Was their first words, and he stared at them with an incredulous look.

“What am I— I’m here to enact revenge on you, of course! What… what did you think…?”

“Well… I kinda thought you’d enjoy your new powers, or something.” They grinned cheekily, laughter escaping their lips, “But… if you’re looking for a fight, I’m up for it!”

Were they… looking down on him? Underestimating him? Casually accepting a fight to the death (or something of the sorts), were they… serious? Barok was intrigued by such a vampire, though he refused to acknowledge this curiousity, instead focusing on his need for revenge.

He lunged forward, swiping his weapon to injure them. They jumped back with ease, flopping onto the ground and staring at him with a smirk eminent on their face.

“Did you not research into your family history, dear Barok?” They asked, hopping up to stand properly, equipping a few weapons while stepping around the stacks of paper, “Also, please don’t mess up the room. I’m working on something.”

As if I’d listen to their request, he huffed, ignoring their orders and knocking down a stack of paper anyway to lunge at them once more. “Why should have I? I simply wanted to see you, and then—”

“Oh! How charming of you, proclaiming your love at first letter, hm?” They grinned again, much to Barok’s annoyance, “I’m just teasing. Anyway, why so mad? I’ve simply invited you to embrace that supernatural side once more, dear Barok, don’t be so annoyed.”

“How can I not be mad?” He didn’t mean to yell, but the anger fuelled within him arose and came out as a jumble of words, “You ruined the chance I had with my brother! We— we could have done so much over the past months, if I had not been a vampire. I’ve had to lay low, keep my distance from him— he probably knows of this idiotic curse!”

They paused, stopping in their tracks with a slightly wide eye and thoughtful look.

Barok, who had sensed this momentary break, pinned them down to the ground with ease. He had trapped them, with him atop, weapon prepared to be thrusted into their heart.

“My… apologies, then, for ruining your life,” They finally spoke. Barok couldn’t tell of the sincerity of their apology, a smile had appeared upon their face despite their circumstances, “So. Will you do it?”

“Do… what?” He replied, eyes locked onto theirs.

“Rid of me. Enact your revenge, or whatever fancy words you enjoy using,” They stated, eyes devoid of the playful emotion that they previously had. “Isn’t revenge such a… petty thing?”

The anger slowly vanished from his anguished expression, face morphing into confusion, “I… what do you… mean?”

“Well, I could always find a way to turn you back. Or, on the contrary, I could always aid you in concealing your identity. You really should look into your family history, dear Barok. Please, do your research next time.”

He stopped, then opened his mouth to say something. Then, stopped once more.

“You… Fine. If you would care to indulge, please, find a way to turn me back.”

“Into a human, correct?”

He nodded, but said nothing.

“Well, only if you do your homework. C’mon, Barok, it wasn’t that hard!” They pouted, eyes encasing a state of playfulness once more, “Besides, it might change your mind… hm. Anyway, a truce it is! Ugh, just look at the mess we’ve made! How distasteful.”

Barok glanced around the room, but he didn’t make a move to apologise or aid in cleaning it up. Instead, he slowly got off the vampire, moving to sit on the elegant couch they were previously upon.

“You know my name, yet I do not know of yours,” He uttered, crossing his arms.

Another laugh escaped from their lips, “It’s (S/O), of course. Ah, a pleasure to finally be acquainted, is it not?”

Wow, anon, that was brilliant! Thank you so much for sharing it! The tension and the back and forth between them is really electric, and the desire for revenge melting away into a begrudging truce is such a good platform for them to become uneasy friends, and perhaps more as time passes!

I'm really happy you wrote this, thank you again!

[papers4me]

Fruits Basket, SE02, Ep22

I was pleasantly surprised that this was one of the best balanced eps concerning tohru as of yet!! They touched upon her being mom-figure in the first half but proceeded to humanize her afterward, depicting her as normal girl!, frustrated, vulnerable & somewhat silently struggling. I was right in my prediction that the moment yuki lets go of mom-tohru image, the show will too!! I’m happy!! finally, No more angels in the sky. But only real tohru with flaws, ugliness & humanity.

-Yuki’s acceptance of past feelings & change towards new ones:

The show is aware that they’ve been using the fake love-triangle initially but it actually has an explanation within the story. Yuki is attracted to tohru, so much, but it isn’t romantic at all. his attempts in “correcting” how he perceived her didn’t set right with him & he felt weirded out more! The show brilliantly depicted these “flirty scenes” with a hint of uneasiness. Yuki’s lines/ moves felt cringey & artificial “do you like my act, princess”,”I’ll kidnap you”, being encouraged by Aya to compliment tohru as a boy should. The signs are all there except not in your face, & the writer deserves praise!! Yuki, being perceptive, was able to reach such conclusion, not only by looking into himself, but by also at looking how kyo interacted with her, differently from him. Kyo sees tohru as a woman & is attracted to her romantically & altho kyo’s words & interactions with tohru lacks princely smoothness & have a hint of awkwardness, it was natural, genuine & spontaneous. Kyo didn’t put on an act or forced himself to flirt or deliberately chose words to impress tohru. Yuki was able to notice tohru only looked romantically towards kyo. Yuki used all his observations to reach another conclusion abt himself too!!! What he wants in a relationship is sth similar to kyo/tohru!! Mutual & equal relationship. He won’t be satisfied by one-sidedly giving or taking.

-The Author’s brilliance in writing traumatic-based behavior ( Kyo/yuki’s best interaction!! ) :

-an anon cryptically warned me that I’ll be disappointed in kyo this ep cuz of a certain scene with yuki. After watching it, I can tell you without a doubt I’m not disappointed at all!! Rather I’m beyond satisfied that I’ve decided to trust the author. Ms. Takya is genius in depicting traumatic-based behavior! Any other writer, would write the scene less raw, yuki would still shine defeating his inner demos, but kyo would only grunt, or say sth mild. cuz the writer might fear that it might risk showing kyo as the stupid guy behind in his growth compared to the successful yuki ,or annoy the readers/viewers who are so eager for these boys to reach mutual ground. Only a great writer will be brave enough to write kyo as his trauma/ faulty copying mechanism logically dictates!

-We spent an entire season with yuki, saw him yell at kakeru’s insensitive hurtful remarks, cry knowing he was saved cuz a friend risked freeing him, it took a locked dark room, paint fumes, PTSD, tons of monologues before yuki finally let it all out! & you want such brilliant writer to make kyo turn around & be nice to yuki all of a sudden after episodes of fights & no perspective insight? You bet such amazing writer will give kyo’s perspective its time & his development the logical progress he needs. This writer is all abt logical & realistic progression! whether positive or even negative, the characters will come across human, raw, realistic & real during & after their journey.

- Going through kyo/yuki’s dialogue, it will tell you that furuba is NOT abt friendship saving the day, or abt successful growth. It is abt the journey these traumatized children are undergoing now that they are nearly becoming young adults. Yuki’s journey was amazing not cuz he succeeded (as amazingly as this is) but cuz it made sense from his perspective, was realistic, logical, matched his coping mechanism & character traits & it took the needed time. Now for kyo, all his reactions should match his perspective, & make sense giving his coping mechanism. He wasn’t given time yet. so, he won’t grow much yet. “Making a fool of me?” kyo didn’t see yuki’s perspective abt the hat. he thinks yuki did it on purpose to taunt him.That HE saved tohru while kyo fails as always. “Praised by others, needed by them” Kyo like everybody in school, always thought yuki is a prince, loved, & admired. Kyo is not the audience, he didn’t see yuki’s struggle.”surpass me easily while I struggle” kyo may train for years with tears & blood, but the rat will beat him always cuz he is superiors. “an idiot that never gets anything, wants an idiotic impossible thing” “if only I gave birth to the rat, I’d ve been happier” kyo’s mom wished or the impossible. So did kyo. He wished that he’d prove to her that he can be the rat’s equal. She shouldn't have died becuz of him. An impossible wish.

-I personally think that kyo’s journey will take a different path from yuki’s. Unlike yuki, kyo’s been accused & proved to harm others somehow, intentionally or unintentionally. Some not even in this world anymore. So there are things in kyo’s journey that can’t be fixed. Nothing will bring his mom or kyoko back to life. He can’t apologize to them. There is NO forgiveness here as kyoko said!. Hence, the writer will brilliantly make kyo fall so hard & reach rock bottom so bad before he stands up again!! It matches his personality too!! He’s a person who struggles in expressing himself verbally, gets overwhelmed with emotions, stubborn, hard on himself & fiery in nature. Moreover, due to his trauma, he harbors very low self-esteem & due to his guilt, he is drenched in self-loath.

-The addiction of destructive coping mechanism ( Writing Brilliancy):

Kyo has one of the most destructive coping mechanism in the show. Similarly to what his father did by illogically dumping all the blame of the mom’s suicide on 4 year old child, which resulted in hurting kyo, kyo adopted his dad’s ways & dumped it all on yuki. Illogical. wrong. but it works!! it numbs this tingling sense of guilt, it puts the voice that goes “ you’re unforgivable” temporarily to sleep. All the hate is on someone else. not me. I’m not a monster. does it work all the time? NO. cuz NO drug does! All drugs has this temporary effect, that unless you break away from, will end up destroying you. “don’t you want it that way? you wouldn’t want to have anyone to hate?“  I’m still confused if this is kyoko or his mom. It has kyoko’s hair, the words are very harsh. Kyoko from kyo’s perspective shifts between extremely kind & cruelly harsh! but regardless, the truth has been spoken. Kyo’s eyes are opened. He can’t force blind himself anymore. he does NOT hate yuki. he “ acts like hating yuki is sth you needs to do”, as shigure said! hating yuki is his way to escape from his destructive self-loath. He hasn’t been hating or fighting yuki for a long while, he tries now, one more fight, one more dose of the drug, let the pain go away! Nope. Yuki is not participating, yuki is in the light now. You are drenched in the darkness, as unforgivable as you are. Monster eyes & all. Kyo breaks the window to break away from the memory. from this point on, it escalates to rock bottom as the drug is no longer working & hating himself with no escape is all he’s left with.

-Protecting leading to hurting:

yuki brings kyo attention that while he’s been hard on himself & resisting change, he is hurting tohru. Sth kyo chose confinement in oder to NOT do. Kyo being distant from class activities “life” is his choice. Tohru suffering is a consequence to that choice. Kyo, once again, overwhelmed by tohru’s desire to include him in their activities “ life”. Helplessly & painfully looking at her & acknowledging yuki’s words. Kyo in one of his most vulnerable moments, matched only by true form hug scene, is desperate for a hug. Not only cuz he loves her, but cuz he needs her, cuz he’s so tried of himself, cuz she’s so endearingly stupid waiting for him all by herself when she could’ve easily caught him home!! Ugh! tohru! T_T. Except this time, kyo is aware of his surroundings, it’s school, no place for transformation. As kyo decides to change his position from hug to head rest, he stares so intently in her eyes. Embracing her with his presence. For a moment there I felt weird. Like I was intruding on a personal moment between two ppl. XD. This moment was this excellently weird mix of tenderly romantic, bittersweet cuz they cant be together hug, & sexually tensed! one of the most successful kyoru moment that truly depicted emotions visually without needing much dialogue!

Side Notes:

kyo/yuki interaction was their most honest, filter-free & raw moment! each said what he really felt. yuki’s directly telling kyo to complain to him, which kyo did. yuki urging kyo to see that punishing himself hurts tohru.

I appreciate that Yuki won’t tell tohru now, cuz it will ruin their progress towards a better balanced relationship. Tohru’s lid hasn’t even been touched, so she would be cautious interacting with him. But once she opens her lid, her self-worth increase & her desire to focus on herself more is ignited!, she’ll listen to him without taking his burden as hers. just like kakeru did. Equal friends.

I wanted to talk deeper abt machi & yuki, but didn’t want it to be overshadowed by kyo’s analysis. Next time for sure!

I love how the writer included the most spontaneous flirting moment between kyo & tohru right after yuki explained that he saw her non-romantically. The writer wants the comparison to be clear cutting ties to any love-triangle misunderstanding that might linger from previous scenes. Moreover, it showed yuki fully & genuinely accepting kyoru!!

I’ll never be over tohru acting like normal teenager & chasing kyo, trying to catch the script!!!! These small moments while having not much effect on the grand plot, help depict tohru with her own feisty style of stubbornness beyond the one-sided kind image we always see.

This ep has well-written & visually appealing scenes. Visual imagery were well-implemented in kyo/yuki scene & kyo/tohru last scene.

Thank you anime for drawing tohru older, pretty & more mature in the final scene. She looked like a woman in love & silently in pain. My baby is growing!

Why is kyoko holding the hat in KYO’s flashback!!!! she’s wearing the same white dress from yuki’s memory?? What the heck is the hat’s story?!!!

[lunawritesaa]

hehe i’m gonna go more in depth about it because everyone else is and i just want to be ✨included✨

i was diagnosed with bpd back in 2016 (please don’t worry, i’m very happy and have a lot of good things going on, brilliant meds and therapy!!) and i read somewhere that someone headcannoned klav to have bpd too and honestly when looking into it, it’s not a bad idea. so connecting on an emotional level!

but also look at him. look at him! i’d be a bit more in depth but i’m also aware that you’re a minor and i’m not here about to get in trouble😂

-screenwriting anon

oh yeah of course! don’t ever be afraid to rant in my inbox bc i love talking with y’all :)

first of all- glad you’re getting the help you need! i know it can be hard (coming from someone who was just discharged from therapy) to ask for help and talk about it. so i’m proud of and happy for you!

and i love that you found that headcanon! i had never thought of it before but i agree! it works really well with his character! and i’m glad it provided that connection for you!!

I FEEL THE LAST PART TOO THO. like he’s just so UGH beautiful?? and thank you for respecting that boundary! i’ve had someone close to me push it before so i really appreciate it :)

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

Also saw you're doing requests so yay!!. Any chance of jercy bakery au? Love your work sm hope you have a great day ☺☺

My Darling Anon how dare you make me fall more in love with Jercy???????? I squealed when i saw this and then promptly started writing even though i should be studying for my (ironically) Greek Mythology test.

i hope you love it because if i fail at least i know it’ll be worth it :) Also this was honestly supposed to be a quick drabble and it somehow ended up as 1,5K+ words so??? #isanyonesurprisedthough

Masterlist

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Jason Grace smiled as the birds beside his head chirped and then swiped his phone to cut off the amusing sound. His fiery friend, and co-worker thought it was hilarious to steal his phone and change his alarm tone every few weeks. Usually it was something inane and silly like a cartoon laugh track or just a repeating “It’s time to get up BakerBoi” that gets increasingly louder. He had arrived to work with a scowl on his face only to see the shit-eating grin of Leo Valdez waiting at the door.

Now Jason stumbles out of bed, letting his limbs loosen as he pads softly to the bathroom, feeling cool tile and a winter breeze on his exposed skin. He loves mornings like this, when the world isn’t quite awake, and the sky hasn’t decided what colour it wants to be for the day. He knows in is baker’s bones that it’ll be cold and rainy, but he has time for a morning jog before the world starts crying.

“Good morning boss,” A bright eyed, fidgeting Leo greets as he steps into the bakery.

Jason had been there at seven thirty, pulling down the café chairs and cleaning the counters. He already had a fresh batch of chocolate chip cookies and about three different types of muffins in the oven. The bread was waiting for the busy hands of Leo and Hazel who somehow always seemed to make heavenly fluffed, soft rolls and the deliciously crusty baguettes. Hazel jokes that it’s the New Orleans blood that flows through her veins. They’re all half inclined to agree.

“Morning Valdez, I like the alarm this week.” He tosses a grin over his shoulder before going back to his icing ritual. Mix, taste, mix, ice.

“I figured you would old man. Even though i much prefer my ASMR food audio from last week. What’s the specialty today?”

“We need to get beignets out and the pain au chocolats before the breakfast crowd. Also the fruit stuffed pastry twists and the honey bread have to be prepped before we open so we can bring them out hot in time for the brunch crowd. Specialty today is a new thing I’ve been working on. Blue blondie doughnuts with Oreo cream filling and sugar glaze.”

“Gods boss, you tryna give people heart failure?”

“Just trying to insert some sweetness into the world,” He winked.

Before Leo could give an undoubted snarky reply a bubbly head of dark brown curls and glittering eyes popped around the door.

“Goooood morning everyone,”

Jason couldn’t help the smile that graced his face at her cheeriness, “Hello Miss Levesque, glad to see a prettier face around here,”

Leo made a strangled noise of indignation from the other side of the kitchen but didn’t get the chance to voice his offense before the last member of their little group walked in.

“Ah there you are Miss McLean, I do wonder how you arrive with Hazel and still manage to get in after her.”

She gave him an exasperated look, “I have to say goodbye to my girlfriend before I come in Boss. You’re the one who banned couple calls in the bakery.”

“Well maybe if we didn’t have to hear you and Annabeth explicitly planning your night’s activities I wouldn’t have had to do that.”

Piper just rolled her eyes and went to grab her apron and a cloth to wipe down the tables.

"Everyone ready?" He asked, from the door of the kitchen an hour later.

"Ready for the storm boss," They all yelled back, as they did each morning.

"Then let's roll like thunder," He grinned, flinging the doors to Ambrosia Bakery open.

"Oh thank the heavens, I could smell the goodness from here and it was a struggle to keep the drool in," One Reyna Avila Ramirez Arellano breathed in deep.

"Good morning my favourite customer," Leo smirked from behind the counter.

"Jason tell your bread boy to stand down before I make him,"

"Is that an invitation?" Dark eyebrows wiggled in amusement.

"That is a threat," She growled.

"Well mark me down as scared and h—"

"Valdez I swear if you finish that sentence I'm putting you on wash-up duty for the next week."

A faint "you got it boss" followed Jason into the kitchen, where he allowed himself to smile. It was an ongoing amusement that Leo flirted with Reyna and in return she came up with increasingly terrifying threats.

"Jason, your sister is here to see you" Hazel said, gently shoving him out the way so she could take over rolling the pastry.

"Get the doughnuts ready for the fryer I'll be back soon, thank you!"

He maneuvered around a blushing Leo who had icing on his nose and a suspicious lipstick stain on his cheek, finally making his way to the confectioners stand.

"What's up loser?" He said by way of greeting.

"Hey you're only allowed to call me that if you come baring nice things." Thalia Grace frowned.

"I am nice things," He pouted.

"Not even on your best day." She snorted, "I want to know if you're coming to the gala this weekend. I need a date to steal extra bread-sticks for me."

"Why can't I just make you bread-sticks and we can sit in your lounge and watch bad reality TV?" He groaned

"Because I have to show face or the sponsors aren't going to sponsor. Besides you need a night out. You're gonna start smelling like bread if you don't take a break."

"It's insulting that you think I wouldn't want to smell like breadsticks."

She laughed at, that ruffling his hair, "Just be ready by seven. You better be wearing a suit."

And with that his sister had grabbed her daily croissant and cappuccino and vanished into the drizzling day.

Before he could make it back to his safe haven beside the ovens and marbled counter-tops a flash of black hair caught his eye.

Turning around he couldn't contain the grin that tugged at his lips; standing by the counter already staring intently at the newest creation was Jason's favourite customer.

"Hello Percy Jackson,"

"Jason," A dazzling smile revealed pearl white teeth and the tiniest dimple on a cheek the color of rich toffee.

"I see you've already found Neptune's Tridoughnut,"

A bright laugh escaped a wickedly beautiful mouth, "Oh I love that. How'd you come up with that one?"

Jason smiled softly, debating whether to tell the owner of the 5-Oceans Conservation Company that he was the muse behind all of his latest creations, hence the variations of green and blue.

Instead, as he did every time Percy asked, he lied, "My sister went to an opening ceremony for a new exhibit at the Education center all about Mythology so I thought I’d offer my services and well, they were a hit."

Piper who was walking past at that exact moment coughed something that sounded suspiciously like "Liar" but with a pointed glare she disappeared behind the counter.

"That sounds great. Guess I'll have to recruit you for all my functions," He winked, a small smirk playing at his lips.

Jason cursed his pale cheeks and hoped the blush he now sported wasn't too noticeable, "What can I get you besides a specialty doughnut?"

"Can I get one banana and walnut muffin, a dozen chic chips, and I'm gonna go see mom this afternoon so maybe a couple of caramel pastry twists and some blueberry muffins?"

"Sure. I guess Estelle is off her carrot cake faze?" He laughed, remembering how Percy had to stop at the bakery twice a week to grab carrot and pecan mini cakes just for his little sister.

"Ugh she's onto wanting fruit in absolutely everything now so my mom has been frantically buying boxes of peaches, strawberries and apples to cut up and send with her for lunch at school." Green eyes rolled in fake annoyance.

"Well if she likes fruit things maybe she should try the raspberry and orange pastry twists?" He pointed to a display stand piled with various pastries coloured by blackberry jam, apricot pieces, kiwi slices and mango syrup.

"I could kiss you right now!" Percy exclaimed rushing towards the display, unaware that the baker was frozen to the spot.

I could kiss you, could kiss you, kiss you, kiss...

Jason's brain had short-circuited, his neurons too busy having a dance party with his hormones to process the world.

I could kiss you.

A lazy, unconscious smile took over his face as he stood there in the middle of his bakery, arms slack, head lolled, and eyes crinkled.

"Jason?" A faraway voice called.

"Jason? Hello?"

And suddenly a hand was waving in front of his vision trying to get his attention.

He pulled himself out of his reverie, blinking back into existence, "Right yes the pastries"

"Didn’t get enough sleep last night?" Percy teased, slugging him softly in the shoulder.

He snorted at the implication, "Unfortunately I'm a bit of a grandfather. Sleep early, rise early."

"Oh guess you like morning activities then,"

He sputtered, head snapping up to stare into twinkling eyes, "N-no, I just meant—"

"I'm kidding Mr BakerMan," That brilliant, bright laugh again, "I know you're a homebody. Your sister likes to tell me how boring you are."

He huffed at that, "We'll see if she gets her pear tarts this weekend."

"Speaking of this weekend," A sly grin played at Percy's mouth, "Are you coming to the gala?"

"Yea," He sighed, "Thalia says she needs me to steal bread-sticks ."

Sea green eyes widened before Percy burst out laughing. In a matter of moments tears were streaming down his face.

If Jason wasn't so smitten with that gorgeous smile and those mischievous eyes he may have been inclined to laugh too. But Percy Jackson was a vision he half believed only his dreams could conjure.

When the laughter had mostly seized Percy wiped his eyes and managed to gasp, "That sounds exactly like something Thalia would ask. When we worked on the marine life project together she always stole the mints from every CEO’s office because she said they had enough money to buy a mint factory, they could afford to replace a single bowl."

"Yep, her life goal is to end capitalism. I swear if it wasn't for Annabeth, Thalia would be walking into office buildings with a sack like some reverse Santa Claus where she steals the office supplies and fruit bowls."

"Well I can't wait to see you stuffing your pockets with bread-sticks on Saturday so I guess I'll see you then," He gave another dazzling smile.

"Yea, and say hello to little Estelle for me. Tell me how she likes the pastries."

"Don't worry I'm sure I'll be back soon with a long list of request."

"Can't wait." He grinned.

Percy chuckled, "Me neither, see you Friday." And then he was gone.

Oh gods, Jason thought, how am I ever gonna survive Percy in a suit?

***

Spoiler alert past-Jason: you didn't.