#though i am leaving it alone unless anon does pop back up!

[slythereen]

not to reopen the loop, but this particular anon is not the same anon who you initially asked the question to, so there's a possibility a response from our original anon shows up on the message board for you at some point.

btw i am certainly not sorry you opened this conversation in the first place because like you said, communication is good and it wouldn't have been here without you speaking up.

what’s funny to me about that harry styles blog’s comments is how they’re bringing the exact vibe of the directioners/harries (take everything way too seriously, everything is a conspiracy theory) to here (where everyone is at the end of the day just really trying to have fun once the post race emotions are in control)

trust me, i was there for a decade (no, they aren’t doing that well thank you for asking lmao)

[just to be clear that this came in while i was responding to @loveyougoodbi here and while it does sort of fit that question (ironically), it is not anon's official response as far as i know]

pretty applicable to so many early 2010s (2000s??? am i old??) fandoms lbr. like when you think about it, we were such a cursed country for a very long time! perhaps there is no escape! it's a cycle!

also i love a good conspiracy theory and definitely take shit too seriously 50% of the time so far be it from me to judge that aspect 😅 so far they've been relatively polite and orderly! they might be extremely incorrect and misinformed (sorry if you see this), but decent enough about it. i'll take it

[egrets-not-regrets]

After Stormbreaker: Little Bird, Problem Children

Of Fin and Feathers AU: In the aftermath of the incident with the Grey Knight, more bonds are formed. Rhitta and Addax are ready to cause problems, but Mara and Broug says "no".

Author's Note: Rhitta is the name of Escanor's giant axe from the Seven Deadly Sins anime. I thought it was fitting. :)

Ocean divider (c) @saradika-graphics

Tagged: @shadowfirecat , @kit-williams , @bleedingichorhearts , @barn-anon , @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

@sleepyfan-blog, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @bispecsual , @ms--lobotomy , @whorety-k

@gra93fruit-blog, @i-am-a-dragon34, @felinisnoctis

It’s been a night since the wounded mers were brought to the gannet colony’s temporary roost to be stabilized and worked on by healers and apothecaries. Mara frowned. All this damage just from a single Grey Knight. The gannet elder rubbed the bridge of her nose to release some tension and stress. With Lana intensely bonded to this Grey Knight, it added a new complexity to this whole situation. It didn’t help that Lana got badly wounded in the process as well. 

Though it seems like the ones who took the brunt of the injuries were the mers who were chaos-aligned. She wondered if they were specifically targeted. Luckily, they were surprisingly not-too-difficult patients. For the most part. It did help that they were on bedrest and that both Osteron and Zariel, and the Alpha Legion brothers were there. Especially to deal with some of the more restless patients.

Her colony avoided the area where the mers were, being wary of the strange mers that arrived in their temporary roost. Only a select group of healer harpies and their assistants were assigned to assist the apothecaries and care for the injured. 

Mara walked around the healing ward checking in with her harpies and the patients. She passed by one area, hearing the restless World Eater mer loudly argue with the Iron Warrior captain. 

“We should pay blood for blood! Our battle will be legendary!”

“Let’s get that asshole!” A young voice popped up. That’s Rhitta. Oh no. 

“Don’t be daft! You are not going to fight the Grey Knight, Addax! Y’barely survived the last fight with him.”

“The little one agrees with me! He’s a threat—”

Ignoring the World Eater, the captain fixed Rhitta a dour, pointed look, “Child, don’t cause problems. It’s only out of courtesy to Addax that you’re staying here.” 

Mara decided to step in before the situation got out of hand, “I have to agree with Captain Broug, I cannot allow you to fight with the Grey Knight.” 

The chaos Iron Warrior mer shot her a relieved look and straightened his posture, reassured to have Mara’s support in agreement. 

Mara glared at the young harpy and scolded her, “Rhitta, before you get all bloodthirsty and vengeful on Claude and Jophiel’s behalf, remember that Lana’s life is tied with the Grey Knight’s. If he dies, she does as well.”

“Oh.” Rhitta’s feathers deflated at the reminder. 

The elder harpy was annoyed, she had no need to deal with more issues right now, let alone have another merAstartes fight on her claws, “Do not encourage more conflict unless you want your privilege to assist the healers here taken away.”

“She’s not leaving.” Addax growled loudly, scarred chest and tattered fins puffed out in a challenge. 

Broug tensed, ready to act should the Addax start going under the influence of his Nails. He had struck a somewhat strange friendship, no, more like a camaraderie with the World Eater, as both of them had fought together against loyalist forces and other warbands back in their time. Though both of them nearly ended each other when they met again in Ancient Terra with Addax having lost control due to the nails. 

Broug was generally indifferent towards the gannet harpies, he was however not interested in facing the wrath of the Alpha Legion brothers, Erriox and his scoutlings, and possibly the Grey Knight, should Lady Mara get injured. 

“Addax.” He said in a warning tone. 

The World Eater sat up, ignoring the complaints from his healing wounds, his large stature protectively blocking Rhitta from Mara’s view, “No, the little bird is not leaving. My nails have been quiet since she arrived. I can think… clearly right now.” he said. 

“Nails?” Mara asked, looking at Broug in question. 

The Iron Warrior Mer sighed; he did notice that Addax was less… reactive and less aggressive than usual ever since that little harpy came into their space. That was the reason why he even allowed her to stay. “Most World Eater mers from my time, like Addax here, have technology called the ‘Butcher’s Nails’ implanted in their brain. It increases their rage and aggression, making them more formidable on the battlefield.”

Mara heard what Broug left out of his explanation, putting two and two together between what both mers said. It seemed like these nails impair Addax’s other thought processes, which is concerning since aggression is the only thing that is left, making the World Eater a potential threat. Rhitta’s presence, however, took away or dampened the effect of the Butcher’s Nails in Addax’s head. That brought on another question, was Rhitta bonded to Addax? So far, the young one remained quiet, hidden behind the large World Eater mer. 

“Rhitta, dear?” 

“Yeah?”

“Do you feel a bond or magic connecting you to Addax?”

“I think so? Like he feels familiar? I feel safe and comfortable here even though he looks scary.” She became thoughtful and grinned, “but it’s also like I know he’s my partner and we’re gonna fight the world together and cause problems without fear!”

“Yes!” Addax matched her enthusiasm, feeling a surge of fierce pride towards the little harpy.  

Both Mara and Broug replied with a resounding “NO”.

It was disconcerting how there was no familiar biting of the nails deeper into his mind after his outburst. Addax palpated the implants on his skull curiously. This confirmed his suspicions about Rhitta’s presence. For the first time in a long long time, he could feel emotions: pride and amusement; without the pain of the nails’ influence. And all due to this harpy child’s presence. How ridiculous. A rough chuckle emitted from his throat and grew into a laugh, cracked and rough unaccustomed to being able to do so loudly and not quite as long previously. 

A small set of claws tapped on his arm, “Are you ok?” Rhitta asked worriedly. 

“Yes. Yes, I am.” Addax replied, eyes crinkled as he felt relief and something he dared to think is akin to hope. He gently patted Rhitta’s head, marveling at the softness of her crest feathers. Such softness and yet there was no building rage, no compulsion to rip and tear her apart. Rhitta’s resulting giggles made him feel an odd warmth bloom in his chest. Perhaps this was what a bond should feel like or at least how he understood from what the bonded battle brothers had explained. 

Mara’s expression softened as she watched the heartwarming interaction between Addax and Rhitta. She sighed, “Since Rhitta’s presence keeps away the nails’ effects from you, she is allowed to stay.” Rhitta was about to cheer when Mara continued sternly, “However, Addax, you are absolutely not allowed to fight ith the other mers, especially the Grey Knight. You should still be in bed rest while your injuries heal, not looking to pick fights with others.”

The World Eater mer was about to protest, but Broug’s immediate hiss of “shut it” silenced him. 

“Rhitta, since Addax needs to heal, you are not to encourage that behavior. Is that understood?” 

The young harpy gave a little dejected huff before replying, “Yes, Mara. I understand.”

“Good.” Satisfied by their response, the elder harpy turned to Broug, “Captain, would you mind keeping an eye on them? If you need assistance, the apothecaries and Zariel and his brothers are here to help. When Addax is better it will be worth testing how far Rhitta can go before the nails’ effect returns and we will need to discuss the logistics of how to make this work.”

“It’s not the first day, nor the last that I’ve minded that thick skull of his. It will likely be easier with his nails calmed. You have a point however, and I will keep that in mind.” the Iron Warrior mer chuckled. 

Mara gave him a small smile, “My thanks, captain.”

“Of course.”

[mego42]

Hi, since you seem more positive/excited about the triangle possibility than a fair amount of people, can you talk more about why? I fall into "the not thrilled about the possibility, but have a little hope it could result in some good moments" group and would love some more reasons to not dread it. Thanks! And love your writing and love reading your tags :)

hey anon!! i am v sorry you are not thrilled and am always happy to shriek nonsense about why i’m excited (though idk how much it will help bc the tl;dr is more or less i’m hype for a triangle bc i am an incredibly messy bench who lives for drama and if you are not a similarly messy bench, ymmv)

don’t get me wrong, i super understand the trepidation, pop culture is LITTERED with absolute shite examples of love triangles but here is an incomplete list of reasons i personally think beth and rio are the perfect kind of disaster to set up a spectacular love triangle:

the existence of a triangle implies there are FEELINGS at the various points

the use of the descriptor "romantic" applied to said triangle implies ROMANTIC feelings

i am a simple woman and my pulse has already picked up

one of my absolute most favorite things about the toxic stew that is beth and rio is how completely balls to the wall obsessed they are with having and holding each other’s attention and focus

like straight up possessive nightmare people

now imagine wedging an actual rival for one or the other’s attention between the two of them

(something we have not reeeeeally seen before, 206 withstanding and i’ll come back to that, bc lbr beth doesn’t give a fck about dean and rio’s known that for sure ever since he walked LITERALLY RIGHT PAST THE GUY to rail his wife in a public bathroom at her invitation)

(the 204 proximity point has nothing to do with this list it’s just a source of endless delight and that was enough for me to justify adding it)

where was i

mmmmm feelings, possessive nightmares, OH RIGHT

they are also nightmares in the sense that it appears to be physically impossible for them to use their words with each other unless it’s like, ripped out of them which means they’re sitting on ALL THE BAGGAGE between them and it’s just stewing and boiling and

wait, let me back up

look, i want brio sex as bad as the next person

but even more than brio sex? i want them to fight

i mean like, Fight fight

i want the kind of knockdown drag-out brawl that brings Stuff to the surface and leaves them with a bunch of nasty, ragged, pieces dragged out into the light bc lbr they’ve both done some incredibly awful things to each other

(kind of like what 213 was looking like before it all went to shit tbh)

(i’m just saying, beth saying you put it all on me with that kind of jagged, disbelieving betrayal behind it? my catnip)

(it’s up there with rio at the picnic table in 306 telling her that ship sailed when she put three slugs in him)

i live for them being raw and honest and emotional okay

IF ONLY THEY COULD BOTH DO IT AT THE SAME TIME

bc here’s the thing, for the magnitude of horrifying shit between the two of them? i (personally) think that they like it because they are so! twisted! when it comes to each other and i love that for me, specifically

like no seriously a huge part of what i love about the ship is that whole i see your monster and it looks like mine thing they’ve got going on when they let themselves and i am full on foaming at the mouth feral at the thought of them leaning into that

i’m sorry i’ve lost the thread again

wait no that was the thread

okay so basically they’re both ticking time bombs of smothered angst and rage who are absolutely incapable of being normal about each other but are also keeping all of that locked tf down and the only time we ever really see it come out is when one o them is too emotionally overwhelmed to keep their iron grip

you know what brings emotions to the surface?

TRIANGLES!!!!!!!!!!!!

CAN YOU IMAGINE THE SEETHING MESS OF EMOTION THAT HAS THE POTENTIAL TO BRING TO THE SURFACE??????

AND HOW UTTERLY UNEQUIPPED EITHER ONE OF THEM WOULD BE TO DEAL WITH ANY OF IT????????

AND HOW SIDEWAYS IT COULD EXPLODE???????????

like don’t get me wrong there is absolutely no way it’s gonna be pretty but i didn’t get on this busted ass carnival ride expecting nice things, i am in this to feEl stuFf and nothing makes me feel stuff more than seeing the two of them feel stuff and this is  perfect set up for that

you know how they say the opposite of love isn’t hate, it’s indifference?

you know what’s not indifference? big messy emotions

but okay okay okay i am icarus and the sun looms large, lets say they don’t fight, that doesn’t mean they’re not gonna feEl stuFf on their own

do you remember beth’s face in the van when rio hugged dylan??? do you?????

and what did she do after that? went out and robbed him blind and held his shit hostage until he caved in what is one of my top 10 of all of their scenes

and god, idk if we’ve really seen rio really get jealous of attention lavished on beth yet but when i think about it i want it so bad my teeth hurt

and i know i’m not alone here bc i have i think 3 jealous!rio prompts in my inbox rn

(i’m not saying i’m working on it but i’m also not not saying it)

god i just

can you imagine how much fun it could be to watch rio seethe over having to watch someone else be into beth

WHAT WOULD HE DO?????????

ESP IF HE COULDNT DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT DIRECTLY BC ITS SOMEONE HE CAN’T INTERFERE WITH

oh christ and if beth responded to it??????????

oh gOD thE mESS

idk even if it doesn’t lead to a confrontation (but i feel like??? it would have to????) just the idea of the kinds of feelings they’d have to grapple with and confront within themselves is D E L I C I O U S

also, to jump back to an earlier point: brio sex

i know some people are feeling like the sexy chemistry between beth and rio is lacking this season

you know what’s great for chemistry? fuel

you know what provides great fuel? messy emotional situations that tug at intimate connections and make people feel out of control

you know what’s a messy emotional situation that tugs at intimate connections and make people feel out of control? 

you probably guessed it

A TRIANGLE

(and we know that neither of them does well with feeling out of control period at all even without the intimate emotional stuff mixed in so like oh boy)

listen i am just saying given where they’re currently at with each other i cannot think of any situation more ripe for an explosive hook up than one or both of them feeling driven to reassert their claim/mark on the other 

would it be nice? no, probably not

would i care? not even a little bit

(don’t you judge like any of y’all are any better than me)

look. to quote marie kondo horrifically out of context: i love mess and the mess potential in a romantic love triangle with beth and rio as two of the three points is stratospherically high.

[jinkicake]

Nope, No Bullshit

Kenma and Ushijima with a loud/whiny s/o who is very stubborn and dramatic in arguments even when they are wrong.

Kozume Kenma x Reader

Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader

For my other lovely anon. I really hope these are good because I spent all day trying to finish some of these requests because I feel bad when I take too long to post them. ┃(・ω┃

OMG I love Kenma, like damn that’s my baby. Also I wanted to say if you can’t get a side salad with goma dressing from McDonald's then what the hell are you gonna get?

WC- 1,221

~~~

Kozume Kenma

I feel like being with someone who is loud and whiny isn’t something new to Kenma 

Remember he is friends with Kuroo

However I think he would have to get used to it, he’s not used to dating like being with someone so loud and having their attention always on him in such a doting way

When it comes to arguments, if you are stubborn and whine to him about why he is wrong, he’d ignore you

He’d get so judgmental so fast

Like he would be visibly annoyed, sighing really loudly and glancing at you with irritation in his eyes 

I don’t think he’d entertain you tbh, he would not add fuel to the fire

Kenma knows when he is right and when he is wrong, if he is wrong then he will apologize before the argument starts but if you’re wrong then…

He wouldn’t let you get your way 

So when you end up throwing a bigger fit he would offer you things like dates and food 

“Shut up, let’s go get tonkatsu” or “If we go to that star museum will you stop?”

Kenma would definitely threaten you with Kuroo

“If you don’t stop whining, I will bring Kuroo over here and you know he will never leave.” 

Then you’d get really pouty and sulk in a corner, or on the edge of the couch 

Dramatically sighing or doing any activity with too much emotion

Kenma would not put up with this, I’m sorry my man would just leave the room 

UNLESS he sees you pouting, then he would cuddle into you and wrap a blanket around the two of you while resting his head on top of your own while you relax against his chest

You’d melt in his arms and probably realize very quickly that you were wrong but it’s hard to say ‘im sorry’ there’s no shame in that

But you would have to admit defeat some way

“You’re right” Your voice would be a hushed whisper and Kenma wouldn’t even look phased

“I know”

That would start another cold war 

“Where do you want to eat?” Kenma can’t keep the sigh in as he flicks his eyes over to where you are sulking on the couch. Clearly upset that he wasn’t giving in to you the way you wanted. “Let’s go get McDonald's.” He pushes himself off the floor and walks over to you, holding his hand out for you to grab. “Come on I want french fries.”

You glance up at him before turning your face, nose high in the air as you puff your cheeks out in retaliation. Kenma’s face falls for a second and he has to refrain from showing the irritation he is feeling on his face. He carefully rethinks his next movements, contemplating what is the best way to deal with the situation.

Kenma wraps his arms around your shoulders and pulls you into his chest, simply holding you in a hug as he waits for your resolve to break. It does, easily. And before Kenma can notice you’re leaning into him and grabbing his hoodie tightly in your hands, you’re already looking up at him.

“I want their side salad with sesame dressing and also fries.” Kenma smiles at the sound of your voice and gently knocks your forehead with his own, simply wanting to look at you in such close proximity. “Okay, you’re ordering.”

“No, I ordered the last time, you’re ordering.” Kenma stands his ground and you look up at him with an offended gasp.

“I ordered last time pudding head!”

Kenma just simply pulls you back into his chest, letting your insults get muffled by his hoodie.

“I’ll just order ubereats.” He mumbles and you cup his cheeks with your hands happily.

“Yay!” You gently press a kiss to his lips and Kenma forgets why he was ever irritated in the first place.

Ushijima Wakatoshi

Ushijima wouldn’t be phased by your loudness, he probably wouldn’t react any different 

Secretly though I think he would like someone like this because it would bring more spontaneousness into his life idk

Ushijima is also someone who is very blunt so if you’re wrong in an argument he would straight up tell you

Let’s say you’re being stubborn and tell him to apologize for something he didn’t do

“Apologize for what? You’re the one who left the stove on last night.” He would not let you live it down, you’re the one who is wrong point blank period 

You realize very quickly that when it comes to Ushijima Wakatoshi you are not getting your way and you stomp out of the room

He would follow you though, everywhere 

I don’t think he would understand why you are so upset but Ushijima would apologize anyway

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know but I am sorry.”

He’d be hard to stay mad at, even though he is the one who should be angry with you

Ushijima just has a lot of patience, so he would be able to deal with someone like this easily 

Deep down he would find it very entertaining and it would take everything in him not to laugh whenever you got so flustered over something you’re wrong about 

“And why are you sorry?” You glare up at him, arms crossed over your chest. Ushijima continues to stare down at you, blinking as he runs his mind for the possible answers. It feels like a pop quiz he hasn’t studied for.

“Because you put your clothes in my wash and tinted my white jersey pink.” He answers and your face heats up in embarrassment.

“Wakatoshi!” You can’t help but whine loudly, stubbornly holding your ground as you continue to look at him. The more you look at him, the more guilty you feel but it’s so hard to get these words off your chest. “I’m sorry about your clothes, I already took them to the cleaners and they fixed them.” You mumble, unable to look at him and Ushijima nods his head.  

You don’t like the feeling of being in the spotlight so you quickly leave the room and head towards the bedroom, where you find comfort in sulking alone. Ushijima follows you, you’re sure he would have followed you all the way into the closet had you not shut the door in his face.

A few minutes later when you’re hidden in the tiny dark space, clothes draped all over you, does the door slide open. Ushijima peers at you with his curious eyes and you can see the small smile playing on his lips. It’s funny really, the way his gigantic body fits into the tiny cramped space. His knees are pressed up against yours and you frown as you stare at him, your cheeks heated up immensely. Ushijima’s large hands grab the tops of your thighs as he continues to stare at you.

“I love you.” Before he can even get all the words out you lunged at him in the tiny space, your body sprawled all over his own. You place kisses all over his face, watching as his eyes crinkle at the sensation.

“And I love you, Ushijima Wakatoshi!” You enunciate each syllable in his name and place just as many pecks anywhere you can find.

Yeah, Ushijima is in this shit for life.

[ickle-ronniekins]

just friends

request from anon: I desperately need a fake dating trope with our fav Georgie boy with a cutie Gryffindor girl <333 pls?!

word count: 6.7k holy hell mates

A/N: WAIT OMG i’m obsessed with fake dating trope stories—they’re so cute! and i’ve never written any before! i don’t think, at least lmao. thank you for blessing me with this request, am so excited, also sorry i got a tad carried away

tag list: @mintlibri @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @darling-details @laneygthememequeen @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @bobduncanlover | message me if you’d like to be added!

“Quick! Hide me!”

George Weasley normally doesn’t mind the fame, if you will, that comes with being part of the most well-known duo Hogwarts has ever seen.

In fact, he welcomes the attention. Maybe not as much as Fred, but he welcomes it, nonetheless.

That is, until a boisterous Ravenclaw is doing everything in her power to grab his attention. How many times can he possibly tell her, in the nicest way possible, that he doesn’t fancy her?

Maybe being nice, Fred explains to him, isn’t the way to go. He doesn’t need to be rude, but he needs to be aggressive—or, blatantly obvious in a way that she won’t be able to ignore. Why can he not seem to shake this girl? She’s undeniably obsessed, Ron laughs one day, as George does his best to push his headache away, his eyes tired from constantly looking over his shoulder to make sure that feisty Ravenclaw is nowhere to be found. He was finding it harder than usual to concentrate in classes—and not in a good way.

George is used to the teasing by now—from his brothers, from Ginny, from Harry, from you—the friendly, fellow Gryffindor prankster—giving Fred and George a run for their money.

He ducks closer to you when he spots her peering, and you nearly choke on your soup during the feast, as the Ravenclaw twirls her hair, watching George with what can only be described as googly eyes.

“Oh dear,” you begin sarcastically, elbowing George next to you, “someone’s in rare form tonight.”

“Ha-ha,” he replies sarcastically as he shifts in his seat uncomfortably, doing his best to block her out by adjusting himself so that Ron’s head covers her face. She notices this, and schooches over in her seat, until George is in her line of view again.

“Merlin’s beard,” he says through gritted teeth, looking down at his food, “I laugh at one of her jokes one time and she can’t seem to let it go.”

“These girls are crazy,” Ron says as he sips on his pumpkin juice, only to receive death glares from you, Hermione, and Ginny. “I—I mean, just that girl—not all women—” he uncomfortably clears his throat and smiles, the tips of his ears turning a bright shade of scarlet.

“Have you tried landing yourself in detention more often than not?” Seamus Finnegan pipes up, “in me own experiences, girls don’t fancy a lad who’s always getting scolded,”

George shakes his head. “The more outrageous the prank, the more brutal the scolding, the more obsessed she becomes,” he tells you all begrudgingly, “I can’t bloody take it anymore.”

As the feast ends, George’s admirer stands up, eyeing him curiously, ready to make her move, yet again—but he finds himself scurrying out of the Great Hall as fast as possible—he’s flying up the staircase and it doesn’t even register with him that he’s not breathing until he enters the common room and lets out a huge sigh of relief. Only narrowly escaped that Ravenclaw, he did. He’s resting in an armchair as the rest of you wander inside a few minutes later, laughing at the flustered sight of him.

George doesn’t know what he’s going to do to get this girl off of his back. It seems as though he’s tried everything.

Unless?

A solution pops into his head very late at night whilst laying in bed, staring up at the curtains of his four poster in the darkness. He jumps up, checks his watch, and groans when he sees the time. In the bed next to his, Fred is sprawled out over his bedsheets, snoring quite loudly as if to say, I’m having a lovely sleep, thank you! George sucks in a breath and lays back down—his mind now swimming with ideas, his smile cheeky, his eyes widened. If this doesn’t give her the hint that he’s not interested, he doesn’t know what will.

It’ll just have to wait until morning, he supposes.

— -

“Y/N!”

You jump a little, not expecting to hear your name yelled across the Great Hall so very early in the morning. George spots you from the entrance, and after making sure there are no other unwanted guests around, he calls out to you and rushes toward the table.

“Hi, George,” you begin, smirking a bit, “you’re up early for someone who has a free period.”

“Needed to catch you before your Herbology lesson,” he places himself across from you and pours himself a bit of coffee—it’s aware to you now that he still needs a little bit of a pick me up. “I need your help.”

“Ah,” you reply and clap your hands together. “The time was quickly approaching—I’m in need of a good prank, you know! It’s been a bit since I’ve gotten involved in a bit of mischief, classes have been so bloody draining lately—so what were you thinking?”

George laughs at this. He does admire your sense of adventure and your equal love of pranking, but no. That isn’t what this is about. He sucks in a breath as he shakes his head, eyeing your curious look before opening his mouth again.

“I think I’ve figured out a way to get… you know who,” he eyes the Ravenclaw table suspiciously, “off of my back.”

You gasp audibly, bringing a hand to cover your mouth as your eyes widen. “Blimey, Georgie—you know who? Why didn’t you tell me that Volde—”

George nearly spits out his coffee due to a snort. Thank goodness he doesn’t. “Ha-ha, anyone ever tell you you’re absolutely hilarious?” He sinks into his seat and rubs his hands over his eyes, as if to brush away tears from laughing too hard. He then continues, after a bit of a laughing fit, “She just needs a push in a different direction, is all.”

You furrow your brow in confusion and bite into a piece of bacon. “And you need my help for that?”

“Precisely,” George tells you, scooping some eggs onto his plate. “Just hear me out.”

“That’s not a great way to start things out, you know.”

He scoffs and then grins cheekily at you. Then, he says, “You need to pretend to go out with me.”

You nearly choke on your piece of toast. “I beg your pardon?” you ask, completely stunned by his request. As you begin to laugh, George feels his insides tighten, and he wants to say, What the bloody hell is the big deal? but instead, he waits, and ends up laughing too.

“Oh, George,” you say after regaining your composure, spreading some more butter onto your toast, “you’re a riot, you are.”

When he doesn’t answer, but instead licks his lips impatiently and takes another sip of coffee and peers at you, as if waiting for your answer, you freeze.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“You’re bloody right I am.”

“So you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend so she’ll end up stalking me too?”

The two of you erupt into a fit of laughter. Then he peers solemnly at you with wide eyes, as if to beg. “Pleaaaase, Y/N?”

You eye him suspiciously. “What’s in it for me?”

He scoffs again. “Extra time spent with me,” a loud crunch comes from his mouth when he bites into his piece of toast, and he winks. “I know you can’t get enough.”

You snort. “Don’t flatter yourself, Weasley.”

He picks up his cup of coffee, holds it up across the table to you and asks before you have time to think things through, “We have a deal?”

You roll your eyes at this gesture, but he’s patiently waiting for you to agree. What will this mean, exactly—pretending to date one another? You’re about to ask him, but it’s almost as if you know—it won’t last long. Soon she’ll get the hint, and the shenanigans can end. You go against your better judgement, acting on the very fearlessness that landed you in Gryffindor house to begin with, pick up your cup of tea and clink it with his. Feeling very pleased with himself, he leans back in his chair and grins cheekily, wiggling his eyebrows at you. You narrow your eyes and say, “Fine—but only because you’ve asked so nicely.”

Just then, you both notice a giggling gaggle of Ravenclaws enter the Great Hall, and George is already feeling his insides begin to swirl nervously. He’s doing things before he can even fully register what’s going on—

He leans across the table and takes a chunk out of the piece of bacon you’re currently also biting into, his face just inches from yours. You nearly choke on it due to surprise of how close he is to you, and he can’t help but begin to laugh, yet again. Always laughing with you, he is. “Erm—excuse me! Eat your own breakfast, you git!”

Just then, you notice her eyes flicker back and forth very quickly between the two of you, before she slowly passes you both by on her way to the Ravenclaw table, careful to listen to whatever the two of you are speaking about.

George can hardly contain his nerves, but figures he might as well get started on this fake dating thing. The sooner she leaves him alone, the better off he’ll be, “Love it when you talk sweetly to me, darling.”

— -

“You two’re out of your bloody mind.”

Fred does not hold back his laughter later that evening when George divulges your plans. The unmistakable sound of Ron snorting bounces off of the walls in the common room, and he turns red in the face.

“You two? You two?”

“What?” you and George chorus together. George continues explaining to the younger redhead across from him, “It’s perfect—we’re best mates already, and we’re all in a bunch of the same classes together—maybe this will finally give her the hint,”

“It’s not going to work.” Ron replies, looking rather amused. He shoots you a look.

“Well, can’t make any promises, of course,” you tell the lot, “but I reckon we put in the work, it’s bound to fix the problem eventually.”

Ron, Harry and Fred continue to roar with laughter in the common room. “She will never fall for that!”

“Why not?” George asks a bit angrily. He’s nervous now—if this plan doesn’t work, he doesn’t know what the bloody hell he’s going to do. Transfer to a school on the moon, at this point.

“Because,” Ron starts, holding back a snort, “Y/N’s Y/N and you’re—you.”

You and George glance at one another, and then back at Ron. The common room is now buzzing with chatter and gossip and it’s becoming hard for everyone to focus on the conversation. “Meaning?”

“I dunno,” Harry pipes up. “You guys just don’t really look like you’d be a couple.”

“Exactly,” Fred agrees, “you’re too—close. Friendly. You’re just.. friends,” he leans back casually in his chair with his hands behind his head, “it wouldn’t work. But, by all means—” he puts his hands up in surrender, chuckling before he continues, “—go for it and embarrass yourselves. I’m in a good need of a laugh.”

— -

Charms is, by far, George’s favorite class at Hogwarts. If he could take that and only that, he reckons he would. But with Little Miss Obsessed on the other end of the corridor, watching him as if her life depends on it, he can’t help but count down the seconds until the lesson is over—or, at least, the seconds until you get here.

You walk up next to him, finally, with Fred on his other side. “Morning, you two,” you tell them through a yawn. Your few cups of tea haven’t seemed to help your exhaustion from the night before—multiple games of exploding snap and copious amounts of butterbeer until the late hours of the evening did not do you good. You lean against the wall and close your eyes. “Are we awake yet?”

“Morning, Y/N!” Fred says brightly, patting you on the shoulder, waiting for Professor Flitwick to arrive and open the door to the classroom.

“Merlin, Fred, it is far too early to be this bloody excited about anything.”

Next to you, George laughs sleepily and nudges you with his elbow.

“Oh,” Fred replies. You can hear the smirk and mischief in his voice, even with your eyes half closed, “I just thought you’d be more excited to see your boyfriend this morning.”

This certainly wakes you up. You jump slightly and peer at George, who’s rather alert now, as well. You’d almost forgotten. Nearing closer to the classroom entrance, you eye the Ravenclaw, who’s watching you both very suspiciously and whispering to her cronies around her. Before any of you can register what’s happening, you lean over and place a kiss onto George’s cheek.

Fred stifles a laugh, Flitwick is opening the classroom door, the Ravenclaw is fuming, but all George can focus on is what just happened. Through gritted teeth and a very cheeky smile he’s trying his hardest to suppress, he asks you, “What the bloody hell was that?”

“Just abiding by the rules of your request,” you whisper back, grinning at him. “If she’s going to think we’re a couple, we better act like it, haven’t we?”

George hadn’t really thought about this—embracing you, kissing you, holding your hand. If he was being honest, he didn’t think about it because everyone had already mistakenly taken you two for a couple just a few months prior, when all you two had been doing is exactly what you’d done all along—be friends. He kind of just assumed the same thing would happen.

“Right,” he says, the heat of the fleeting moment dying down. “Yeah, of course.”

The three of you waltz into the classroom and take your seats near the middle, with the Ravenclaw sitting a few rows ahead, trying her hardest to peer stealthily over her shoulder at the two of you. It seems as though she’s definitely noticed something.

Flitwick begins the lesson and you lazily lean your head against George’s shoulder, sticking the back end of your quill in your mouth and listening as Flitwick tells you the desired page to turn to in your textbooks. Teasingly, George asks, “What am I—your pillow now?”

You turn to peer up at him. In a low voice you tell him, “If I’m going to be your fake girlfriend, you’re going to let me lean on you when I’m sleepy. Deal?”

You turn your focus back toward the front of the class and George can’t help but smile at you, shaking his head in admiration. He slings an arm around you and props himself into a more comfortable position.

“Okay, then. Deal.”

— -

George is now finding it incredibly easy to pretend to be your “boyfriend”. The hand holding, constant embracing, and laughing into oblivion seems to come naturally—it doesn’t even feel strange to him, and he’s amused to see that you’re taking it the same way. Probably because you got on so well with one another before all of these shenanigans started. Right?

While his admirer’s persistence has seemed to die down a bit, she still winds up watching and cornering him in corridors from time to time—but it’s easier with you arm in arm with him. She doesn’t linger too long, or continue to flirt obnoxiously with him. It seems as though your plan is working. Now, if only she can find a significant other of her own to pay attention too—

You’re sitting in Transfiguration, working on the bird conjuring charm you’d been dying to perfect in your free time whilst McGonagall steps outside for a moment to meet with Professor Sprout, and you’re doing your best to ignore the glares from the other end of the classroom.

“How d’you reckon the plan is working out?” Fred asks you both.

“Well, she’s certainly not as persistent,” George tells his twin in a low voice, eyeing the Ravenclaw stealthily across the classroom, “but I’m not sure she’s entirely convinced.”

You break your focus on the charm and turn toward the twins. “Reckon she will soon.”

“Yeah?” they chorus together.

“Yeah,” you reply, picking up your wand, not giving them any further information.

Fred crosses his arms and looks at you quizzically. When you neglect to continue, he asks with a twinge of sarcasm to his voice, “And how, may I ask, do you know this?”

You stifle a laugh and practice your flourishing movements without conjuring the charm. “—‘cause.. she’s just got to, hasn’t she? I’m telling you—we keep this up for a bit longer, and she’ll forget all about you. Mark my words.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Avis,”

A puff of smoke emits from your wand, along with a loud blasting sound, and then a flock of birds twitters in front of you and you stand up straighter in front of your desk, feeling extremely pleased with yourself.

“Bloody hell,” Fred and George say together, peering admiringly at the flock of birds you’d managed to conjure. George continues, “That is N.E.W.T Level stuff you’re doing, Y/N!” He picks you up and spins you around, your hair flying into your eyes. You’re weightless to him. When he places you back down gingerly on your feet, he brushes the hair gently out of your face and says, “You’re brilliant, you are.”

Breathlessly, you answer him, “Thanks,”

His hand is still in your hair, his fingers delicately brushing your cheek. George can suddenly feel his insides tighten and his face go rosy—but why?

The entire world seems to stop around you both. It’s as if nobody else exists.

Thankfully, though, when both of you snap back to reality at the sound of McGonagall re-entering the classroom, you both see that nobody else has seemed to notice your small intimate moment.

You pull nervously at the edges of your sleeves and take your seat again next to George, who is running a hand through his hair. When he turns to look at Fred, who must’ve noticed this small exchange, George is relieved to see that there’s no cocky or amused expression on his face—he’s merely pouting due to the continuation of the Transfiguration lesson.

— -

The weather is surprisingly warm for a winter day. George is seated up against a tree near the water’s edge, fiddling with something in his hands—an invention, no doubt—when you plop down next to him with a slight groan.

“Long day?”

“Why in the hell did I decide to take Double Herbology?” you whine, letting your bag sink into the ground next to you. You place your head into your hands, grinding your knuckles into your temples to rid yourself of your headache. You elbow him slightly, “How come you didn’t stop me?”

George laughs, looking back down at this knick knack in his hands yet again. “You were pretty adamant about taking doubles,” he recalls, thinking back to when you’d originally picked these few classes, “don’t you remember?”

“Yeah, well,” you begin, breathing in the smell of the sweet air, picking at the grass in between your fingers, “I suppose it was sort of a silly decision, wasn’t it? I’m bloody exhausted.”

Up near the castle, Ron spots you two and is about to run down to join you both, when Fred tugs on his robes and holds him back, nearly choking him. “Oi!” he exclaims, turning back toward his older brother. “What the bloody hell was that for?”

“Before we all head down there to join the lovebirds,” Fred begins, grinning cheekily at Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny, “I’d like to pick your brains.”

“About what?” Ginny and Hermione ask together.

“Well, precisely what I’ve just said,” Fred tells them, leaning against the entrance of the castle, his bag slung over his shoulder. “The lovebirds.”

Ron and Harry glance at Fred quizzically. “What about them?”

“I’m starting to believe this whole fake dating nonsense isn’t really fake at all.”

Harry laughs at the site of Ron’s agape mouth, when Ginny just shakes her head at her older brother. “You’re off your rocker, Fred. No way they’re really together. They would’ve told us, no?”

Fred crosses his arms. “I’m not so sure of that.”

Harry asks him, “How d’you reckon?”

“I was watching them in Transfiguration the other day,” Fred begins to tell them, watching to make sure the two of you are still out of earshot. “We were all chatting whilst McGonagall needed to step out, Y/N was doing some really advanced type of magic—N.E.W.T Level,”

Still, Ron’s jaw is dropped. He’s seemingly impressed. “Blimey—really?”

“Not the point of the story, Ronniekins.”

Ron turns a bright shade of pink and goes very silent at everyone’s slight snickers. Fred continues, “Anyway—we were all talking about how this plan of theirs was unfolding—to be honest with you, I haven’t seen much of that Ravenclaw around, but George swears she’s still pining over him. So, Y/N does this really advanced charm and George nearly topples over, picks her up and spins her around—you know,” he turns toward his brother and sister, “like those scenes in those silly Muggle movies mum watches. Then, everything went really quiet between the two of them, and they were just—looking at one another, for a really long time.”

Hermione asks, “Like how, exactly?”

Fred thinks on this for a moment. Then he replies, running a hand through his hair, “Like they’re in love.”

Ginny narrows her eyes. “So? Doesn’t mean they’re actually in love. I mean.. they are supposed to be acting like a couple—that’s the point of all of this.”

“So,” Fred says, ignoring everything else Ginny has just mentioned, “I’ve got a plan.”

Ginny turns toward Hermione, “Never a good sign.”

Fred nudges his sister playfully through bits of hearty laughter from the group. “I think we should slip them both a love potion—see if anything changes—if it does, we know they truly are faking. I’ve got the antidote all ready to go.”

“A love potion?” Harry asks.

“Those pink bottles you’ve got all over your room at home?” Ron adds.

“Yes,” Fred says brightly. “Admittedly—it’ll probably be one of our most popular inventions in due time. But Merlin, they are dangerous—you know, when it comes to love, and all that.”

After nearly everyone agrees, Fred begins to put his plan into action—when it will happen, the time of day, just exactly how they’re going to pull it off—when Hermione decides to interject her opinion.

“Nothing’s going to change, you know.”

Ron nearly drops his bag onto the ground. “D’you know something we don’t?”

Hermione laughs. “No, of course not, but—well, it’s obvious, isn’t it?” But clearly, it isn’t quite as obvious as it should be. “They’re already in love!”

Before Ron, Ginny, and Harry can interject their thoughts and objections, Fred turns toward her and says, “Cheers, Hermione.”

“You agree, do you?”

“I do,” Fred replies, now focusing his attention on the two of you down by the lake. It seems to him, he realizes, that while your love may be obvious to some, it’s the two of you that are completely oblivious. He watches as you sink back into George’s chest, his arm slung around your shoulder as you both continue to laugh animatedly about something. Fred points and says, ”Just look at them, would you! D’you see the Ravenclaw anywhere near here? No.”

“Fred,” Harry begins, “if you think they’re faking, then why in the bloody hell d’you want to waste a love potion on them?”

Fred just smiles evilly. “So it’ll be easier to get them to just admit it already.”

— -

“Okay then—enough homework for one evening, I’m absolutely knackered,” you tell the twins, folding up the parchment of your Potions essay and slipping it carefully into your bag, “you two coming back to the common room?”

“Yeah, in a bit,” Fred says, a look of absolute disgust on his face as he flips through his spell book, “this assignment is a right pain in the—”

He stops himself when he notices Madam Pince in the corner, eyeing him suspiciously. You ask them both, “You sure you don’t need any help?”

“Nah, that’s alright, I know you’re exhausted,” George tells you, appreciative of all the help you’ve given them already. “You go on.. we’ll meet you before you head off to bed.”

“Alright,” you reply sweetly, leaning in to place a featherlight kiss to his cheek. His hair at the nape of his neck feels so soft beneath your fingertips, “See you later.”

The Ravenclaw at the next table, Fred notices, isn’t quite as angry at this exchange as she would have been a few weeks ago. Has everything truly been working in their favor?

But George hardly notices—he just looks back down at his bit of parchment and continues to work on his conclusion, trying very, very hard, in Fred’s opinion, to suppress a grin. It’s rather noticeable alongside the cherry red color of his cheeks.

Only a few minutes pass by of silence between the twins before Madam Pince is hurrying everyone out of the library. The group of Ravenclaws make their way, albeit slightly reluctantly, to the opposite end of the castle toward their common room. George has never been so happy to be heading up to bed.

“Oi, Georgie,” Fred begins as they trudge through the corridors, “how long d’you reckon this thing between you and Y/N is going to last?”

“Dunno,” George tells his twin truthfully through a yawn. His four poster is so close, just a few more corridors to get through… “Until that Ravenclaw stops showing up everywhere I go, I suppose.”

Fred snorts at this comment. “Well, you can’t help class, mate.”

“Yeah, but, I mean everywhere else.”

Fred tugs on his brother’s robes and gets him to stop right before the entrance to the common room.

“C’mon, just be straight with me,”

George just glances at him with a confused look.

“About Y/N,” Fred prods.

“What about her?”

“You may be fooling everyone else, but you’re not fooling me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Fred’s feeling slightly annoyed at his brother’s obvious denial now. “I know how you feel about her, Georgie. I see the way you look at her. Why don’t you both just come out and say it so you can be together for real?”

George actually has to place his bag on the ground. He rolls his eyes—somehow, he knew this was coming. “What the bloody hell are you on about? We’re just friends, like you said—this is purely strategic.” George turns around, picks up his bag, and is about to say the password to enter the common room, but—

“Strategic,” Fred echoes his twin. “Right. So I guess I can go along with my plan, then, slip you both love potions, make sure there’s definitely a change in your feelings toward one another so we know you are truly faking—”

This certainly grabs George’s attention. He can feel his heart thundering in his chest. He turns back toward his twin with narrowed eyes and asks, “What plan?”

“Oh, sorry—forgot to mention,” Fred jokes, careful not to wake any sleeping portraits, “I told the rest of the lot that I’ll be conducting a.. bit of an experiment, if you will—for research, you know. Don’t worry—got the antidote ready to go for when you both, of course, fall madly in love—”

“Fred,” George says through gritted teeth, but lets out a laugh, as well, “I’m not taking a love potion. First of all, those are prototypes for the store, remember? Reckon I’d need to be barking mad in order to take one of those anyway—we know full well how powerful they are.”

Fred’s been ready for George to argue about this. “But I told you, I’ve got the antidote—” Fred’s grinning cheekily at his twin now, he doesn’t even mind getting cut off completely.

“The answer’s no, Fred. You’re out of your bloody mind.”

“What are you so afraid of mate?” Fred laughs and punches George in the arm. “Are you scared that your feelings are going to change?”

George doesn’t want to answer this. He quickly runs a hand through his hair and suddenly seems a bit on edge. He absolutely hates getting cornered like this—he can’t shake the feeling that there’s something sharp lodged in his throat. He opens his mouth to argue, but once again, Fred takes him by surprise.

“Or, I wonder—are you afraid of them not changing at all?”

— -

George hasn’t slept in days. Weeks, maybe. No, that’s being too dramatic—maybe three days, tops. But to him, it certainly feels like a much longer time.

He drags himself, quite reluctantly, toward the dungeons. He’s looking forward even less to the Potions lesson in front of him. He can barely pay attention on a normal day—now, when he’s sleep deprived and running on not much other than caffeine and his own musings, he’s almost certain he’s going to fall asleep just walking there.

Until he spots you, of course, strolling down the other end of the corridor. You see him, too, wave frantically, and bounce your way over to him. Perhaps, he thinks, Potions won’t be so bad after all.

“Hey,” he says brightly, nearly over the moon to see you.. even if it is early in the morning.

“Georgie! I’ve got news,” you say excitedly, poking him in the ribs and wiggling your eyebrows at him. “Guess what I’ve found out?”

George is peering at you, as if in a dreamlike trance. His voice floats through the air between the two of you. “Tell me.”

“It’s about you know who,” you tease, “got herself a boyfriend, she has.”

George suddenly feels very warm. Blimey, it’s hot. He loosens his tie a bit, a hitch in his voice, “Wait, r-really? Where’ve you heard that?”

“Saw them together in the Great Hall—some Slytherin bloke,” you tell him, clutching your spell books tightly in your arms, “she was nearly drooling all over him—reckon her obsession will move to him now, no?” When George doesn’t share the same enthusiasm you do, you prod him with your wand and joke, “What’s the matter? Don’t tell me you’ve actually fallen for this girl.”

“Merlin, no,” George answers quite quickly. You watch as his expression changes from sullen to chipper within a matter of milliseconds. “That’s great news! Gets her off my back, doesn’t it?”

“Exactly,” you reply, “and now you don’t have to hang around little old me all the time. Not that I don’t enjoy your company—” you add quickly when George furrows his brows, “I just mean, now you’re able to go after any girl you fancy, not worry about her anymore—”

“Yeah,” a laugh escapes his lips, “yeah.. reckon you’re right! Blimey, have got to tell Fred.. he was starting to get freaked every time she so much as glanced over at us.”

Students begin to walk a bit more speedily, and you both realize the sound of the bell is drawing nearer. You push playfully on his chest and say, “Anyway—wanted to tell you before class! Meet me in the common room before dinner, yeah?” And before he can answer, you flash a toothy smile and turn in the opposite direction, making your way as quickly as you can toward the library.

You want to tell him. You want to tell him that you’d heard him and Fred that night when they’d been discussing love potions and whatever Fred has up his sleeve—you’d gotten caught up in the corridor around the bend, chatting with another student about an assignment, and had heard the entire exchange. You reckoned it was best to just end it now, before things get really messy.

Things seemed to be working in your favor, though. You hadn’t lied. That Ravenclaw did find herself a boyfriend, so, it seems as though the plan you two had formulated had worked, and that’s a good thing—right?

It’s the first time in—weeks, months?—that you and George part ways without a kiss on the cheek, a tight, romantic embrace, and it makes him feel weird. Off balance. He doesn’t like it. Is he really.. missing those times? Doing those things with you? He shakes his head in defiance, begrudgingly making his way toward Potions. Fred’s words ring in his ears. Just friends. Even if he does feel those things, it’s obvious that you don’t, he realizes. You’re nearly bouncing off the walls knowing that this fake relationship is over. So, why doesn’t he feel the same way? Why does he feel so sad?

He swallows thickly before bumping into Fred. They make their way into the classroom, George’s head and heart feeling heavier than they have in weeks.

Little does he know, you’re sitting in the library, staring into space, a piece of blank parchment in front of you, feeling, if not more so, the exact same way.

— -

A few days later, George can finally sit in the Great Hall in peace without ducking behind anyone, crouching down in his seat, or skipping feasts altogether. His prior admirer seems so wrapped up with her new love, that George Weasley might as well not even exist. He feels relief wash over him.

He’s sitting with Fred, Ron, Ginny, Harry, and Hermione, but you—you’re nowhere to be found. In fact, he hasn’t seen all that much of you in a few days time. Guess he sort of got used to always having you around. Loads of Herbology assignments, you told him the day before with a cheeky grin, reckon Doubles is catching up with me.

“So Georgie,” Fred says brightly through mouthfuls of potatoes, “reckon we should get back to our regularly scheduled mischief now that our unscheduled hiatus has been lifted, yeah?”

“Oi, Fred, can’t you see that he’s not listening to you?” Ron asks before lifting a hand to slap George right across the face.

“Easy, you two,” Ginny scolds them and grabs Ron before he can do anything. Then she taps her older brother on the shoulder, “Hey, earth to George.”

“What?” George says, finally joining the group, the haze above his head lifting slightly, “oh, erm, sorry.. was—distracted.”

Fred eyes his twin curiously. There’s a tiny bit of sarcasm in his voice, “What’s going on, mate? You’ve been awfully quiet since your little plan wrapped up.” But even in his delirious state, George knows what Fred is trying to do. And he’s so bloody exhausted and tired of fighting everything that he doesn’t even argue. Instead, he takes the group by surprise, and stands up without touching his meal. “What’re you doing?”

“Something I should’ve done months ago!” he calls as he flies toward the entrance, maneuvering himself between students and professors alike. He’s doing things without fully registering what’s going on, he’s taking steps three at a time, he’s jumping through the portrait hole in a huff, he’s panting heavily with a very confused you in front of him, baffled at his state.

“Hey there,” you say brightly, “you alright?”

When George catches his breath, he takes you by surprise. “‘m doing just fine, love.”

“Love?” you ask teasingly, “you missing what we had, Georgie? Our fake little relationship?”

“It wasn’t fake.”

You shoot him a glance and freeze completely. George is almost certain he can hear the pounding of your heart reverberating off of the common room walls. He’s thankful, now that he’s recognized, the two of you are completely alone. “It—it wasn’t?”

“Of course not.”

You offer a nervous grin, and George knows he’s said the right thing. The tension between the two of you is rising and you ask him jokingly, “This isn’t a love potion talking, is it?” Realization hits him like a ton of bricks and he lets an exasperated laugh escape his lips. Damnit, Fred. He shakes his head no and waits with bated breath for your next words.

“So this,” you say, pointing back and forth very rapidly between the two of you, “it’s..it’s been real this entire time?”

“Of course it’s real, it’s always been real,” George is finding it difficult to breathe correctly now, “hasn’t it been real for you?”

But you realize, as you’re choking back tears, that by saying yes, you’ll only be delaying the inevitable—which is, of course, to kiss him into oblivion. And you’d both waited bloody long enough already, hadn’t you?

So instead of saying anything, you bite back a very large grin before stepping forward and pulling on his tie and pressing your lips to his. He’s not even surprised—if anything, he’s relieved, to finally know what it feels like to have your lips on his after many moments having dreamt about it. Immediately, you want to ask him why you two haven’t been doing this the entire time, but you can’t bring yourself to break from him now that you’re intertwined together. It’s slow and warm, his lips molding perfectly with yours, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek, soft moans escaping his lips, the rest of his fingers making their way through your soft hair. It sort of feels as if you’re floating, actually, bouncing delicately from cloud to cloud, high above the trees and the castle. Breaking slightly and pressing his forehead to yours, he says, “So, erm, silly question—but are we—?”

“If you even have to ask if I’m your girlfriend for real now, you’re out of your mind, Weasley.”

George’s head is spinning. He leaves trails of kisses along your cheeks, your neck, and your collarbone, all before finding your lips again, and as they form a smile against his own, he can’t seem to shake the feeling like he’s coming home.

A very amused voice startles you both, making you part at the mere sound of the clearing of a throat. “Alright then, Ron, Ginny, Harry—you all owe me two sickles each. Hermione—cheers again, reckon you did well to agree with me on this one.” And then, when he notices you two watching, Fred says, “Oi—well it’s about bloody time.”

“I’m sorry,” you begin, doing your best to not think about the scarlet color of your face, or the fact that they’d all seen quite possibly the most intimate moment you and George have shared together, “you lot placed bets on us?”

“Sure did,” Fred replies, looking rather pleased with himself as he’s handed his earnings from a very grumpy looking Ron and Harry. He slides the sickles into his pockets and crosses his arms in delight.

As Ginny and Hermione squeal excitedly and wink at you before heading up to the girls dormitory for the evening, George pulls you back into his arms, confidence engulfing him, and says to the others, “If you don’t mind, we were kind of in the middle of something here.”

The tips of Ron’s ears turn extremely pink and he smiles warily. “Guess you didn’t have to use those love Potions after all, Fred,” Harry says.

With a wink at you both before making his way toward the stairs, Fred replies, “Was never going to, actually. Just had to make them think I was. Knew these two would break eventually.”

“Hate to admit it, but you’re kind of brilliant,” Ron says admiringly, but continues to pout when Fred slings an arm around his shoulders and tells him,

“Next time, Ron, just side with your wiser, older brother, yeah?”

You turn back toward George, your arms around his neck. When you make sure the others are finally out of earshot, you say to him, tugging gently on his tie again, “He’s outrageous, he is.”

“Got us together, though, didn’t he?”

“I suppose I’ll give him that one.”

“Oh,” Fred calls from the top of the stairs, “and Y/N? No snogging my brother until the wee hours of the evening, alright? He needs his beauty sleep.”

“Shove off, Freddie,” you call. A cackle of laughter floats down from the boys dormitory, but you find it easy to ignore. What do they know? The two of you have tons of lost time to make up for. You stand on your tippy toes, press your forehead to George’s before he kisses you again. He lets out a soft laugh when you say against his lips, to a Fred who can’t hear you, “Can’t make any promises.”

reblogs & feedback are greatly appreciated, thank you for reading & requesting x

[likesomekindofcheese]

Promised Part Two (The Great mini-series)

Pairing: Grigor Dymov x fem! reader

Word Count: 3475

Summary: from an anon request, the boorish Emporer Peter has ruined your families alliance with Russia. The only way to save your family and your people is to go to the Russian Court to marry his best friend, Count Grigor Dymov.

content warnings: mentions of sex and families and weddings, swearing. Grigor being shyer than in the canon show but this is my fic and I do what I want.

“Countess Y/F/N Dymov does have a nice ring to it,’ your mother said as the carriage rolled on.

Rocking back and forth, her eyebrows went up and she nodded in approval at the thought. Though you stayed silent, watching the Russian forests pass by. Your fur lined coat felt too heavy as did your scarf. You saw your mother lift a hand opposite of the one holding her novel to scratch at her own scarf. But the air was getting colder. You were definitely in Russia by now.

You glanced down at the latest letter from the gangly Russian count:

Dear Y/F/N,

I hope you and your family are doing well. Upon reading your last letter, you said you were worried about children. There are a few children here. Count Arkady has a little army of his own running about the halls. Who knows when it might happen, but I am sure you will be a fine mother. You may even make friends here. We have plenty of ladies here you may talk to.  And we have fine physicians here.

Oh god, that was unconnected somehow? Maybe I should scratch that out.

No, I will keep it. I hope it amuses you. It may make you laugh to see what a silly fool I am. What kind of fool proposes marriage to courtesans? Not you, Georgiana, of course.

But children arriving will be a while from now. I am trying to make everything comfortable for you. It will be hard leaving your family and the pets you mentioned in your last letter. When you and your mother arrive here, you must try some tea. Though you might as well enjoy some vodka as well.

Speaking of vodka, Peter had too much last night and spent the morning chapel services vomiting his stomach out…

A jolt from the carriage made both of you leap in your seats. It was no use re-reading the thing for the tenth time for amusement on a long trip. You put the letter away in your reticule.

Enough time had passed between that fateful dinner. Now here you were, on the road, on your way to the court of Peter.

“Did you hear me? Do you like the sound of Countess Y/F/N Dymov?” she repeated louder, leaning forward.

“Yes,” you agreed obediently.

Your mother bit her lip hesitantly. There was a pause.

“Y/N, you are doing a very brave thing. You’re going to help all of us, and a lot of people…I thank you for it,” she said.

Her eyes blinked and you could see a few tiny tears up there.

“At least I’m not marrying the emperor,” you huffed, “the title alone wouldn’t be worth it.”

She rolled her eyes and scoffed.

“Your grandmother said if you got the Emperor, it would be a nicer ceremony. It would be a grander ceremony, but a miserable marriage after…though no wedding will be as nice as your brothers,” she recalled.

Both of you smiled at the memory. Your mother even set down the novel in her hands to talk to you more.

“He married someone he loves. Now they’re happy together…” you commented.

The past weeks whirled by without the time to savor your last time at home.

First there was a whole wedding to set and celebrate for your brother, then there was studying all the etiquette, customs, and everything you would need for a life in Russia. As well as planning about your own day. A day crawling up that made you shiver slightly at the thought.

But remembering your brother’s childish grin when his bride walked down to greet meet him at the altar, the shivers ceased. How they seemed to fly when they danced with each other. How even their cake tasted sweeter. The fragrance of their flower crowns was still in your nose.

If only your day could be as nice. No alliance. No pressure to go and bind yourself. Just nice.

“It was a wonderful day. She looked very pretty in your dress…do you think the dress we chose will suit the Russian court?” you asked.

Your mother nodded, eyes sparkling at the thought.

“Oh yes, we had to ask every question, but so help me you would at least have a dress you liked! You looked radiant in it- all of the court will love the look of it!” she added.

“It’s very…very elaborate. And heavy. I bet it’s the reason this carriage is about to trip over,” you jested.

You briefly took off your glove to scratch your own neck from a small itch.

“Well, when in Rome…” she said, shrugging.

Having a ceremony with a special dress was one thing, the groom was something else entire. But what of your future husband, Grigor?

Before you could ask about your mother’s analysis of him, there was a sudden whistle from the driver.

Both of you leaned out and stared at the window. The large grey palace was popping in view, distant, but there. Tall, grey, and grand.

Breath hitched, you tried to stare at another thing, a bird flying by or the dirt on the road. But there it was. And your eyes were fixed, like a martyr’s gaze on the burning stake before sainthood.

The place you had to live, where you had to sacrifice your body, autonomy, and soul to a man you only knew for a few days.

Servants rushed in to carry your luggage. You and your mother glanced at each other. Her eyes turned soft and she took your hand and squeezed it as the guards opened the doors and a footman led you up the grand stairs into the throne room.

One opened a chest and your mother pulled out a green portfolio from it, pressing it to her heart.

There was a long hall leading to a sole chair bedecked in gold. The room was dark but sun filtered through windows on the left. Removing your coat and handing it to a servant, you could feel their eyes. Analyzing you in your deep blue dress with white lace on the front tied in a dark blue bow on the chest.

Before the throne, walking out from their peeping, was a line waiting for you was a group of various men as different as a kaleidoscope. One was shorter, dark haired, and bespectacled. One was a priest with a long beard. But in the center was the Emperor Peter and by his side, Count Grigor Dymov in a grey, curled wig.

Walking slowly, you curtsied and kissed Peter’s hand and your mother copied the movement.

Only said man wanted to jump ahead and show you his apartments.

“Your highness, thank you for letting me arrive here and for inviting my mother as a chaperone,” you greeted politely.

From a green portfolio, your mother pulled out a starched parchment and walked to the priest.

“Here is a signed paper from our physician, proving Y/N’s chastity for the marriage. Additionally, I will chaperone her until the ceremony.” she announced proudly.

He looked down, head tilted, but leaning to read it, nodded his head.

Both of you let out a sigh of relief. As awkward as the examination was, it was still a hundred times better with a family doctor then without warning by a stranger.

“Well, cangratu-fucking-lations Grigor. Here is the lady who’s going to suck you cock for life in a week! Go on, greet her!” he half-yelled.

You could feel your mother tense at the vulgarity and wished to disappear.

The hands in front of Grigor that were folded tightened slightly as you walked up to each other, with a slight bow.

He then took your hand, as you placed yours, you could see your own palm tremble a bit. He leant down to kiss it.

“Miss Y/L/N, did you travel well?” he asked.

“It was long, but nice. Lots of forests.” You answered shyly.

He relaxed a little and gave you a small smile. Though part of you felt angry. What if it was the cock sucking comment he was thinking of?

It dropped at you still being serious.

“Well, that’s done. And I’m bored. I’m hungry and want some oysters, goodbye!” the emperor suddenly said, trailing away with the priest and other men behind him like ducklings.

Grigor offered his arm and you accepted it, breath hitching at how close he felt.

“Count Dymov, thank you for the…the welcome. Though look at this place! It’s magnificent!” you mother praised, looking at the details.

He walked slowly out of the room with your mother by your side, admiring the tall windows, wooden walls, and countless paintings and decorations. Courtiers in wigs and wide skirts floated by you like butterflies.

“I was thinking I would show you both my apartment, since it’s where we’ll be living soon, Lady Y/L/N. The palace is huge enough as it is!” Grigor answered, turning to your mother.

“Unless you want a tour of all that!” he added on, gesturing to the bits of gold that glowed in the sunlight.

“It would be nice to see where she’ll be living,” you mother replied.

“The apartment is fine,” you finalized, looking up at his eyes.

It had been a while but you forgot or perhaps never noticed the color. They were the color of the sea. And quite beautiful.

“Besides, I already have a gift for you and it couldn’t wait for after the wedding!” he announced, with an impish grin.

“A gift?” you gasped.

“I’d like us to at least be friends, Y/n,”

“Of course, Grigor.”

After a ten-minute walk with chit chat mostly between your mother and Grigor, you arrived at the apartment. He paused slightly before the dark doors and knocked a few times, a voice replied from within.

Your heart leaped at all the red- red walls, red chairs, red furniture, a beautiful gold bathtub and a large red bed that made your stomach flip and turn warm.

“In about a week, this will be your home…but, the-ah- the gift!” he said, jumping with his eyebrows near the top of his wigged head.

An old man dressed like a servant walked from a corner. Grigor rushed there, gesturing wildly with his arms for him to walk forward. For a minute, the man was under Grigor’s shadow and his large back blocked your view.

As he turned, in his hands was a tiny Pomeranian puppy with brown fur.

Gasping alongside your mother, you let out squeals of delight on instinct. You fell in love at once. It barked and smiled when it saw you. You cooed and even your mother went over to stroke its fur. Its earthy smell came up to your nose and it licked your fingers. Grigor handed the puppy for you to hold, light and warm and smelling of earth. The puppy smiled and licked your nose in greeting and you giggled.

“Seems like she knows her mistress already!” Grigor commented, with a small laugh in his voice.

“I know they will expect us to, uh, have children someday and we might as well practice caring for a living thing. And I did not want you to be here and feel completely alone. Like you told me.”

The puppy looks up at you and tilts its head. Once you set it down, it happily runs around the apartment, leaping sometimes mid-way and then pausing to sniff every piece of furniture. It looks at you, chippering happily, the stub of a tail wagging wildly.

“Grigor, she, she…” you mumbled, close to tears. “She’s adorable! I’ve never had such a gift before!”

“It will be work, of course. And she’ll get big and eat and tear things. But Arkady knows dogs and is willing to help us.”

“Yes, of course…thank you!”

Overjoyed, you walked over to him, stood on your toes, and kiss his cheek.

It was a little out of decorum. You had hardly seen him. But you were overjoyed, and it was too kind. He blushed bright pink at the feeling of your lips and smiled.

“Y/N…you’re very welcome! Oh! I forgot! I also have…have these now…”

Out of his pocket were two small bands, bronze colored.

“Our engagement rings… until we’re official.”

Breathing in deep, you accepted the ring and slid it onto your finger. It was only a little tight. The puppy in your arms sniffed it and then tried to lightly chew on it.

___-------------------------------------------------------------------

The palace tour nearly broke your jaw from how much you dropped it. You kept a leash with the small Pomeranian pup by your side, trotting happily and sniffing everything. If it were not for all the gold and countless portraits, plants, boards, and displays and details in every crack of the wall, your new pet would have distracted you.

How on earth can anyone manage to walk through this? You thought. You had not even reached the gardens yet!

Suddenly, there was a yelp and the thunder of boots.

Peter walked forward with his usual party of men, but by his side was a woman who seemed surprisingly young despite her tall height. She was extremely pale and had light blonde hair up in a bun with a few curls falling out and wore a lovely sky-blue gown.

“Ah, Grigor! Have another meeting, need you there! Now! It’s going to be fucking dull without you!” he ordered.

With a shrug, he bowed and walked away with Peter, but the young woman stayed behind. She waited until he was gone and then turned to you.

“He should have been there an hour ago, people were discussing trade forever and he should have been there to help,” She sighed.

Handing the leash to your mother, both of you dipped in a greeting curtsy.

“Pardon me, but I’m new here. I don’t know what the Emperor’s schedule is like…I don’t know what anything is like,” you confessed.

She raised an eyebrow and blinked a few times. Suddenly a shorter woman with sharp cheekbones and her hair up into a small coif ran up by the blonde woman’s side. A maid.

Looking at you both, the servant seemed to give meaning to the phrase “if looks could kill.”

She scolded, “do you realize who you’re talking to! This is her grace, the Empress! At least be polite!”

Panic flooded your chest and you dipped down to a lower, rushed curtsy.

“Your grace-I’m so sorry! Forgive me! Please!” you blubbered. “I didn’t know who you were!”

“It’s all right! Just a mistake!” she laughed.

Her hands moved forward, and she gestured you up.

“What is your name?” she asked kindly.

You introduced yourself, only looking at the end of Catherine’s blue skirt, shades lighter than your own.

“You’re Lady Y/L/N, the future Countess Dymov!”

“Yes, I am and…your grace, I am so sorry for all the trouble that happened at my house. I tried to resolve but…here I am,” you explained.

She gave a sideways glare to where Peter walked off and turned to you, “it isn’t your fault at all…my husband is… well, you understand.”

“I completely understand!” you blurted with a scoff in your throat.

Her frozen, pale stiffness melted away. She smiled genuinely.

“Empress Catherine, what is it like for women here? I haven’t heard much…”

“Well, there are…tea parties. Ball throwings. Thing like that… But…Lady Y/L/N…”

She leaned closer, speaking quietly.

“I was like you, once. Sent to be married. New to this place. I would hesitate to head there if you are new…things are done differently and the ladies here are, if I must be honest, not nice to newcomers.”

“Alright!”

You glanced at your mother, whose brow furrowed with worry at the words.

“But I shall help you. You have to meet them eventually. Just be careful. Though you aren’t me, you might have hope. They have joy in teasing me since they know I outrank them…if you need help, you may call on me.” She offered, her words rushing at the sudden idea.

“Oh your heighness, it’s an honor!” you cried.

“From one foreign bride to another!” she commented before saying goodbye and twirling off. The maid gave a look at the puppy with wistfulness, and then followed the empress.

But as you headed back, having a few moments of rest on a seat near a window.

“Our chambers are not far, I’ll be there to see if our things are ready!” she announded.

You nodded, giving a last happy pet your puppy and stared as your mother sauntered away.

Suddenly, you heard the click of heels.

“You’re his fiancée, are you?”

You turned to see a pale woman with beautiful dark curls on her head. She wore an elaborate, dusy red dress and her slight frown was not welcoming.

“I am engaged to…to Count Dymov, if that’s what you’re asking,” you answered, getting up.

“I…I thought,” she mused.

“Pardon me, I don’t even know your name…” you said.

“You can call me Georgiana.”

Oh my god…

“Lady Georgiana, I’m Lady Y/L/N,” you replied.

She looked at you, analyzing everything. Your chin dipped low and you folded your hands in front of you, frozen in place. Part of you wanted to run away.

“Miss Georgiana is there anything you want from me?” you asked.

Her lips went tight.

“I just thought that Grigor loved me…but he brings over some unknown woman from nowhere!” she spat.

You remembered what he said about their history. And her decision. Your mind blanked with Catherine’s warning, what could you even say.

“He didn’t ask me to marry him. It’s to secure an alliance with Russia.” You informed her plainly.

Getting a little bolder, you looked back at her unamused face.

“Just know, however your marriage goes, it’s me he really loves and…”

She paused. Then smiled.

“And I’ve fucked him too.”

She stuck her nose in the air as your mouth opened a little in shock.

“That’s how mad he is for me. I know every trick that will keep him returning to me. You’ll just pop out an heir for the Dymov’s and then he’ll be done with you.”

Your face turned hot and your breath felt short.

“Why…why are you telling me this?” you asked quietly.

“Because, we all know I am the one he loves and will always love. And I know how to please him in every way,” she threatened, walking closer.

“As sure as you please the Emperor,” you retorted boldly.

Georgiana stopped, her eyes widening. Her face screwed up. Though her head nodded a little in slight acknowledgement.

“Georgiana, I don’t want us to be enemies,” you pleaded.

“I don’t want you to make him miserable. You may think you know him: he seems like a nice man, but he is only two steps away from Peter. He loves parties, drinking, fun, revelry and all things wild; are you ready to have that as your husband?”

“I didn’t even choose this match. I don’t even love him- I only met him a month ago! And he offered you his hand and you couldn’t accept it! I did not have a say in the matter to be with him! Live with your choice and I’ll live with one that wasn’t even mine!” you yelled, your cheeks feeling hot.

Her nostrils flared and she walked away, flouncing like a peacock.

Sinking back onto the seat, you cursed your temper and tongue for getting the best of you.

How could you make peace of this conundrum? Even if the Empress liked you, it seemed no one else at court would now. Especially knowing the kind man who gifted you a dog spent his nights in wildness…and maybe in Georgiana’s arms.

 Taglist: @queenlover05​ @stardust-killer-queen​

The Great Taglist/Promised: @stardust-killer-queen​ @itsametaphorgwil​ @freaking-nix​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @grigorlee​ @themficsilike @simonedk​ @deck-heart​ @staradorned​  @writeroutoftime​ @kiainspace​ @gwilymleeisbae​

[ancientstone]

Photo I.D.: Screenshots of two anon asks, the bottom image, the first ask, says: “So I've begun rewatching TUA for the millionth time because the world is a nightmare and I need a distraction, and anyway I feel like I'd never really noticed before that Five never has a weapon on his person. Like, in the Apocalypse when he was the literal last person alive he was armed and ready to go, but in Griddy's he goes in unarmed and leaves unarmed. What do you make of that? Is it confidence in his ability to protect himself? Or does it signal he really is over fighting unless necessary?”

The top image, the second ask, says: “Hey! It's me, the person! I'm so excited, muse away!! I just really wanted your take on it because I feel you get how Five's brain works better than any other writer I've seen. Also it just really stood out to me, I guess especially because not only was he taken by surprise at Griddy's (them finding him sooner than he expected) but he could've literally helped himself to any of the weapons now knowing he was already a target. Just interesting. Anyhoo yay I can't wait to see your thoughts!” End photo I.D.

~~~

Right, now I’ve had time to give this proper thought, I’m going to answer this very interesting question in a ramble-y, completely incoherent way!

(Also thank you so much anon ❤❤❤ You’re too kind!!)

Why doesn’t Five carry a weapon in 2019/60s, but he does in the apocalypse?

Age:

Apocalypse Five is, ultimately, a kid.

Things are scary as a kid, and in the apocalypse there are always things moving, breaking, and crumbling all around you. When you’re on your own in the kind of environment with constant periodic noise, it’s really easy to imagine something/someone is there (speaking from personal experience in woods at night - if you give your imagination the chance it will make you believe all kinds of creatures are out there!) 

So tiny Five would have been spooked a lot, and for a while probably didn’t realise he was the only person left alive either, so keeping something on him was a reasonable thing to do to keep himself safe.

Side thought: He could also be armed in the apocalypse to kill rats? When we first get to see an apocalypse flashback at the end of s1ep1, a rat runs across the road in front of him, so at least a few survive. And when you kill things like that, you kinda have to gut them, so having a blade on hand to do that with quickly away from camp was probably a must. Yum.

So then he arrives in 2019 and the 60s.

Here he’s an adult, so he knows better than to jump at shadows. This gives him less of a motive to carry a blade for the sake of keeping the unknown things at bay.

Five is, however, also being chased by the Commission. So while this might be a factor into it, it’s probably not the sole reason. That’s more likely...

Mentality and Physical Capability:

Five is, when he pops back into the living world of 2019, far more skilled than his child self ever was.

Evidence: I mean, Five’s probably been bopping around the Academy since he could crawl, however when Five’s trying to show Reginald that he’s ready to time travel, he goes “I’ve been practicing my spatial jumps just like you said!” and then just...blinks to the other end of the table with a pleased “See?!”

Like, boy, that’s one end of the table to the other, that really shouldn’t be the heart of your argument here.

Also is it me or are Five’s kid jumps slower? Am I imagining that? The one at the dinner table certainly is in s1, and comparing that to the dinner scene in s2 with Veginald-Reginald, it looks like he becomes quicker.

2019/60s Five has more time to train and understand his abilities, to the point where he’s completely comfortable with using them in a fight to gain the upper hand.

E.g. Five vs the Swedes, Five vs Lila, the Griddy’s shootout, Gimbel Brothers

Five doesn’t often use his powers to get himself weapons, though, see the examples above.

Instead, he uses them to get himself into the middle of the fight. He could’ve easily swiped up one of the guns at Griddy’s, or have taken one of the guns from the dead Commission agents outside the barn to shoot Lila, but he doesn’t.

I think the reason Five doesn’t carry a weapon is because he is the weapon.

Which, when you think about it, ties nicely into this little exchange:

“You made me a killer!”

“You were always a killer, I just pointed you in a direction.”

Of course, he does take weapons, such as the the axe at the assassination, but more often than not we seen him kill with his bare hands (snapping necks) or with the things around him (his tie, a mop, and a pencil at Griddy’s, a glass dish to stop Diego and Hazel fighting, a metal pole when he fights Lila.)

Actually that probably stems from being in the apocalypse - Using the resources at hand to get you through a situation. There were likely times Five had to quickly bundle things together and work through something fast, so for him it’s probably second nature to just look around his environment and go: cool, what can I use?

Basically: Why would Five carry something to kill when he’s perfectly capable of doing it his damn self?

HOWEVER!

This ask also got me thinking about how Five is extremely reliant upon his powers to help him zip in and out of fights, and when he doesn’t have them the outcome of those fights are often less likely to go in his favour.

See:

Hazel and Cha-Cha find him at Gimbel Brothers - His powers run out, resulting in him being injured and cornered until a stroke of luck lets him hide

The Swedes attack Five at the Majestic 12 meeting - Five gets beaten and flung around like a rag doll, and required Lila’s intervention to save him

Five vs Lila/Five vs Five - These are interesting because they show that, when the odds are evenly matched (i.e. Lila also has the same powers as him, therefore cancelling out his advantage, or he’s against himself), he’s far more likely to struggle and lose (like he did in the barn). With Five vs Five, there was no obvious winner, and if the fight had been allowed to continue it’s probable that whoever came out on top did so out of luck rather than skill.

This is different from, say, Diego, who can just chuck a blade from a distance if needs must.

Not having anything on him means that Five doesn’t have the luxury of getting distance between him and the enemy while still causing damage, making him much more vulnerable at close range when his powers give up on him and has to rely on his strength alone. Again this plays into his resourcefulness with using the things around him.

Actually, this problem was likely less of an issue when he was in his adult body, because despite being older he was more physically capable of matching height/strength/energy. I wonder if Five struggled in the non-power fights we see here all the more because he’s now in the body of a teenager, and therefore has even less to rely on.

As Five says, he ended up in “This twip of a body.”

Conclusion ~ tl;dr ~

Five doesn’t have a weapon because he is the weapon, however he’s super reliant on his powers being part of that, so when they’re gone he’s at risk of being overpowered and taken down.

Conclusion, part 2

Hargreeves get your damn brother like a pointy stick or something jeez

[soranihimawari]

Coke Float & Milk Bread

taglist: @kaidasen, ⛅️anon ( @tkags anon list) , @m0nstergeneration20xx @oikawalovely

Notes: Oikawa and Seiun have a snack-date. Part 2 of a mini-series where a girl meets a pretty boy in the hallway of a physical therapy session. Part 3 will be out tomorrow.

<<previous current next>> 

After the physical therapy session I went to, I was greeted outside the building by both Oikawa and another one of his classmates. Both were wearing their tracksuits from club practice I presumed since our physical therapy sessions were usually scheduled an hour after classes were over for the day. I wore jeans and a skyblue crop top. My hair was pulled back into a french braid, but I wore nothing but moisturizer that afternoon. Friends of mine from school were excited for me, but they respected my wishes on not wearing make-up due to the fact that I was going to be all sweaty from my physical therapy. 

Going back to this afternoon’s excursion: Apparently the pair of boys have been friends since childhood, which caused me to listen to their silly banter for a few city blocks. 

“Iwa-chan, of course I know that aliens built the ancient pyramids,” Oikawa said. 

“Oh my god Oikawa,” Iwazumi slapped his forehead. “I can’t believe you actually agreed to go out with him, Sei-chan.” 

“I thought he was charming,” I replied. 

I laughed when Oikawa puffed hot hair to the side. The clicks of my crutches matched with their foot steps; about another ten minutes later, we found ourselves in front of the ice cream shop. Iwazumi bid us farewell after opening the door for us mentioning he had a film studies podcast to listen to. When we were alone, I looked up at the menu for the ice cream shop. I glanced at the prices printed at the bottom for the floats, sundaes, cones, and cup sizes. I gripped my crutches since I didn’t want to overwhelm a fellow student’s wallet.

“You get to pick whatever you want, ok?” Oikawa said reassuringly. He placed an arm on my shoulder blade. “Don’t worry about cost right now.”

“If that’s the case,” I began. I caught the attention of the employee behind the ice cream freezer display. “May I get a cherry coke float?”

“And I’ll have one milk bread sundae please.” 

Oikawa removed his hand from my back to reach for his wallet. I hobbled over toward a booth by a window. I sat down on the squishy cushion and placed my crutches beside me against the window sill. Oikawa joined me a few minutes later.

“Coke float, huh?” he said. His eyes shimmered with slight amusement. 

“Milk bread? Really?” I retorted back. We exchanged a few more laughs. When our order arrived, we began to enjoy the treats. The summer sunset cascaded around OIkawa’s frame. This almost caused me to bask in his light. He was making puns and for once I forgot about my injury. When Oikawa rested his spoon in his now empty dish he asked me what happened. I took one final slurp of my cherry coke float and scowled.

“You first,” I said. 

“I asked you,” Oikawa said in a cocky tone. His gaze seemed to study my features enough so I felt like a hawk was watching me. I sighed when I pinched the bridge of my nose..

“Fine. I suppose I can tell you,” I caved first. “I was walking home a few weeks ago when I noticed one of my neighbor’s children wandered out into the street chasing after a ball. He didn’t notice a delivery truck which brakes failed and I got hit when I pushed him out of the way.”

Oikawa hung on every word I said. I recalled that day so clearly. It was a bright, blissful morning in June. I was on a break from the arts club, so I was tasked with grocery shopping for the day since I lived with my grandmother. Her neighbor’s children really took a liking to me ever since I moved in after my parents went abroad for business at the start of my third year of high school. I was often asked to babysit when I didn’t have after school (or morning) activities. However, the events of the day I told Oikawa about were true.

“My thigh and knee were almost completely shattered. It was a miracle the surgeons were able to re-fuse my bones with a lot of pins and screws. I just had an operation to remove the last bit of support screws since my bones are on the mend. Hence my brace. Every step is a struggle,” I paused for a moment to observe the lives of the people walking past the shop. Of course I was envious, but like all injuries, I needed more time to dedicate to healing. “But I’ll persevere through it.” I rested my chin on my hand when I placed my arm on the table and gave him a curt nod.

Oikawa leaned back in his chair to let out a low whistle. I cleared my throat before I returned my attention back at my physical therapy comrade.

“What about yours? You’re captain of your sports team, right?”

“Volleyball captain,” he corrected. “It occurred during a practice match we had amongst each other. I had set the ball to Iwa-chan for set point, but I landed poorly; I heard my knee pop out of place. It comes after years of playing, so I suppose it was my time to slow down a little bit.”

I pushed my glass aside and leaned forward when I folded my arms over my chest.

“I suppose so,” I acknowledged his last statement. “Do you have physical therapy tomorrow?” 

“Yeah. We were partners for one day and now you can’t get enough of me?”

“Don’t let it boost your ego. We’ve known each other off and on for a month, Oikawa. Yesterday was the first time we worked together on the parallel bars; what can I say? You’re fun to be around. Besides, you like aliens and I am a skeptic.”

“Oh is that so?” He scoffed when he heard me say the word skeptic. He clutched his chest a little bit for dramatic effect.  I knew that would grab his attention. I reread his club jacket insignia and I closed my eyes to realign my thoughts. Of course we haven’t really spoken before and our first conversational exchange was over the phone when he suggested this ice cream outing, but to say I developed an inkling of warmth from Oikawa is a false truth. At most, the boy intrigues me. He sure is handsome up close, no wonder my girl friends freaked the hell out when I sent his photo to them. Secretly though, I was hoping it was the same on his end.

“If you want more than ice cream dates with me,” my tone took over a taunting tone. “Then make a believer out of me Oikawa Tooru, captain of the Aoba Josai volleyball team.” I tapped my lips lightly. 

“Trust me sweetheart, I will,” he said, taking a hold of one of my hands. “Now do me a favor and don’t tap your lips like that unless you want me to kiss you later.”

I blinked surprised since such a simple gesture would prompt this pretty boy to react like that. About twenty or so more minutes passed while we exchanged more stories from school gossip to volleyball game stories. Oikawa was surprised to learn that I knew how to play volleyball, but I told him I learned on a sand court when my family lived abroad for a few of my formative early years.

“When I came back to Japan from Argentina, it was because my parents were offered another five year city planning contract, so living with my grandmother was a compromise once I entered my first year of high school,” I explained. 

“So, what year are you in now?” Oikawa’s calloused fingers traced over my knuckles delicately. Years of playing caused these, I know. It was the smallest gesture, yet i like to believe he wanted to treat me like glass. He already knew I was built tough, much like he was. I suppose maybe he might develop a crush on me while we continue working on feeling whole again.

“Third as of the start of this year. What about you? I’m assuming you are too?” Oikawa hummed in confirmaton. I mentioned the time, so Oikawa let go of my hand, yet I hoped he held on to me a little longer. He stood up first to assist me in standing as well. I grabbed my crutches off the window sill and propped them up. 

When we exited the shop, we began walking back toward the medical arts building where our physical therapy office was located. We walked side by side for a majority of the way back, telling each other jokes, as well as me explaining that since the accident I was attending school virtually unless I had to turn in assignments or take exams on campus. My school was located on the other side of town, meaning it was no where near his. He kind of frowned learning that piece of information.

On the flip side, I may have let it slip that I didn’t live too far from the hospital campus, so there was a silver lining. This caused his mood to shift and his demeanor took on a chipper tone. He ran his hand through his hair before asking me when I was supposed to return back to school saying the beginning of next week.

“I see,” Oikawa began when we were approaching the entrance door. “So, how does a follow up proper date sound?” 

I was reaching for the door handle when my ears perked up at his question. This model volleyball player, who could turn pro by graduation, asked me out on a real date? I looked over my shoulder at him to read his expression. Oh wow, even when serious, he was extremely good looking. Sure, couldn’t hurt to date him, maybe my pride if we break up, but now is not the time for thinking so poorly Juni! My thoughts said.

“Friday night. Six-thirty, Paper Latern Park. I hear there’s a meteor shower in the forecast. Bring coffee, ok?” I instructed before giving Oikawa a hug. I kissed his cheek.

“Thank you for the coke float. See you then!” 

I released him in time to notice the blush tinting his cheekbones. Oikawa’s surprised chocolate hue eyes watched me hobble off until I was out of sight. About an hour later, I received a text from him informing me he too had made it home in one piece. 

“He signs his messages with ‘Peace, love, aliens?’ That’s adorable,” I whispered at my phone. I sat down on my bed leaving my sketch pad on my desk. 

[kylo-ren-writes]

Soulmates, Part 2

I, II

Pairing: Kylo Ren x Reader

Request: anon requested:

“ Hii, I’ve had this on my mind for foreevveerrrr but I was wondering if you could do a super angsty Kylo x reader fic where it’s a soul mate type of situation but Kylo won’t admit it because he’s an asshole and he’s trying to push reader away. But one day he’s just so fed up with all the conflicting emotions that he starts a huge fight in hopes that it make reader leave but instead he ends up telling reader he’s in love with them? I hope that makes sense🙈”

Warnings: Cold Kylo, kind of angsty, short part.

Tag List: @that-girl-named-alex @patersonfrompaterson @ericatrbl                     (If you wanted to be tagged but weren’t let me know!)

A/N: this part is shorter because I wanted to make the next one more fluffy and have Kylo actually nice in it, lol. I’ll probably post part 3 tomorrow or Saturday! (gif not mine!)

Another week goes by after the incident in the meeting room with Kylo. It still stings, what he said to you--or didn’t--and how he reacted. The cold look he had had on his stupidly handsome face is still burned into your memory, and every time you are forced to see him, that image of him is the only thing you can see.

The only reason you haven’t quit yet, other than the fact that you need a job, is because of the knowledge that Kylo is your soulmate. Even though he has made it pretty clear that he wants nothing to do with you, you can’t help but hold out hope. It’s stupid, but maybe you could sway him, or even have some form of healthy relationship with him, even if it is only friendship. You would take anything at this point if it meant that the two of you were on good terms. If not to settle the ache in your chest, but also to make your job as his assistant more bearable.

In the office, you feel alone. The whole soulmate mess with Kylo has you too down and depressed to make any friends or interact with anyone in the office. Not to mention how isolated your own space is. Your desk sits outside of Kylo’s office inside a small room that leads out into the hallway. It leaves you completely by yourself when Kylo has his door closed, which is always. It’s miserable.

Kylo has been holed up in his office all day. He had made the swift command earlier this morning that he did not want to be bothered by anyone for whatever reason. It brings you comfort and calmness. You don’t have to worry about attending to his every need, or more importantly, you don’t have to worry about having to see him; To face him and look him in the eye.

But just because you don’t have to worry about seeing him, doesn’t mean you aren’t thinking about him. For the past week after you had gotten over his coldness towards you, which you are not actually recovered from, you cannot help but wonder if Kylo is suffering just as you are. Of course, you assume he isn’t, but after doing research on “soulmates,” your findings reveal that Kylo should be in as much pain as you are. Soulmates are naturally pulled together. Trying to sever the bond would be painful for the both of you, emotionally and physically. Of course, naturally that is hard to believe. Kylo acts like nothing happened between the two of you. He acts like you aren’t soulmates, like he isn’t bothered by the issue. He’s cold and apathetic. There is nothing from him to give away any secret emotions he may be feeling over ignoring you.

Although, even though you are hurting and Kylo is the only person you can think about, you do give him his space. You don’t engage in conversation with Kylo unless he initiates it or you have to. You don’t go near him unless he calls for you. Every interaction between you is professional and distant. Exactly how Kylo wants it. You respect what he wants and his space, even though it is painful for you.

You suppose it is the soulmate bond that prevents you from slamming open Kylo’s door to give him a piece of your mind.

When 3pm rolls around there is an ache in your upper back and neck from hunching yourself over your desk. You straighten your spine as you stretch out the kink, rolling your shoulders forwards and back to alleviate the ache.

A coffee sounds great to you, as well as food since you had skipped lunch on the off chance Kylo would need you. He hadn’t, however (big surprise), so you busied yourself with paperwork and files all afternoon, blocking out the sounds of the office and the image of him in your head. You’re the kind of person that buries themselves in their work when you feel sad or upset, so at least your work ethic isn’t suffering.

You stand up from your chair and make to grab your purse from where it sits on the floor when suddenly the door to Kylo’s office opens. Freezing in place, your gaze snaps over to the door where Kylo is standing. He seems to gaze at you, in fact, you notice his eyes roaming over you, or are you imagining it?

“What are you doing?” Kylo asks, his tone curt and impassive.

Smoothing your hands over your skirt, your eyes flicker down to the floor where your purse still sits, before glancing back up at his face. His dark hair is tousled, messy, like he had been running his fingers through it all day. 

“I was about to go get myself lunch and a coffee,” you reply.

Kylo narrows his brows. “It’s 3pm.” His large hands rest in the pockets of his trousers, the movement causing your gaze to unintentionally shift to there.

You clear your throat and pick your purse up from the floor. “I… missed lunch… lost track of time,” you say, shrugging nonchalantly. If he knew the real reason why you had purposely missed lunch, he would not be happy.

Kylo’s gaze is studious as he observes you, considering your explanation. You’re not sure if that is your cue to go or not, or if he has more to say.

Then finally, “bring me back a coffee.” Not even a please.

“Black?” You ask, ignoring his lack of manners and the gruffness to his tone as you mindlessly roll your chair into the desk. At least he isn’t annoyed or agitated like how he normally is when he demands coffee. You know it isn’t your place, although it really should be, but you wish he wouldn’t work as hard as he does. The physical toll it takes on him is obvious with the dark circles under his eyes and the amount of coffee he seems to consume daily.

A wordless nod is all you get for a response and then you are walking around your desk, past Kylo, to leave. But before you can cross the doorway an idea pops into your head. Stopping in your tracks, you slowly turn, your eyes immediately meeting his golden brown ones. You’ve never seen eyes like his, and no matter how cheesy it is, you’ve fallen in love with them.

Kylo hasn’t moved, only turned his body in the intention of watching you leave. You try not to let that observation flourish into something hopeful.

“Would you like to come with me?” You ask him as you fix him with a small, hopeful smile. You ignore that doubtful voice in your head telling you to give up.

It almost looks like Kylo is considering it, but judging by how stiff his posture gets and the cold look to his eyes, you don’t have to hear his answer to know it. “No.”

Of course you are let down, but you try not to let it show. However, you aren’t about to let this go either. The two of you could be friends, couldn’t you?

“Are you sure? I know you haven’t left your office all day. You must be hungry.”

Kylo doesn’t bring a lunch from home, you know that. So, you look at him knowingly, seeing one of his fingers twitch from your peripheral, as if he’s trying not to let anything slip. But he must know that you know, you’ve spent enough time with him to pick up on his habits. You’re also his soulmate, so, naturally you pay extra attention to him than you would someone else.

“I am hungry,” Kylo exhales, seemingly annoyed, but still controlled. “However, I don’t particularly want to eat with you,” he deadpans.

You try not to allow his statement to bother you, but you can’t help how your lips naturally fall into a frown, or the backwards step you take in recoil. “Oh…” is all you can manage as the grip you have on your purse tightens.

Of course Kylo would say that, you shouldn’t have expected anything less from the man. He is colder than an iceberg, after all. But it still stings and you are utterly failing at trying to not let it bother you. And bother you it should. Kylo is your soulmate. The rejection hurts, leaving a physical ache inside your chest where your heart is.

Peeling your gaze away, you half turn so you don’t have to look at him anymore, because looking at his cold, impassive face is like a slap to yours. “I will get you your coffee then, sir.” Your tone is level and a little bit cold. But you only did that so he wouldn’t know the effect of his blow.

When you don’t receive a response from the man, you walk out of the small room and head towards the elevator. You could cry right now, you really could, but there would not be much of a point. You presume this is about as warm as Kylo will be towards you, you might as well get used to it.

[andtheniwrotemarvel]

Relationships Are Like Cars

Scott Lang x Reader

Assumed female reader

Word Count: 1892

Hey guys, sorry for my temporary disappearance. I just started college, and things have been kind of crazy! If anyone's at BYU-I, I'd love it if you said hi! Also look at the wonderful Scott my roommate drew!

Anon asked: Could you do and angsty Scott Lang x reader? And could it end happy!

After hours of worrying and expecting the worst, your phone finally buzzed. You picked it up quickly, answering, "Where were you?"

"(Y/N), I'm so sorry. Something came up and I couldn't call and tell you," Scott apologized.

"You told me you would be here in ten minutes, and then I didn't hear anything from you for ten hours? Do you have any idea what's been going through my head?"

"I know, I'm sorry. I wanted to call, I really did, but I couldn't."

"Why? Why couldn't you call? What came up that was so important that you couldn't call your girlfriend and make sure she didn't worry herself half to death?!"

Hearing his voice didn't make you feel better as you had thought it would. Instead, you felt as if all of the stress you had been feeling all day was suddenly compiling and hitting you in the stomach.

"I am so sorry," he apologized again. Sincerity was eminent in his voice, but you still felt hurt.

"You keep saying that, but it doesn't help, Scott. It doesn't change the fact that I've been suffering for hours," you emphasized.

"I know, and I wish I could help more."

"Then why don't you? I need to see your face, I need to know that you're really okay."

"I'm not hurt or anything, I promise, but I can't come over right now. I'm still in the middle of something, but I finally had a moment that I could call you."

"What have you been doing that was so important? Why are you avoiding that?"

"I...oh, gosh," he sighed, and you could picture him running a hand through his hair. "I wish I could tell you, I really do."

"What is that supposed to mean, Scott? You wish you could tell me? Well, I wish I could trust you!"

"Trust me?"

"Trust you!" you repeated. "Don't you get it, Scott? I can't do that right now! I have been trying to trust you for the past few months. You've bailed on me time after time, and then when we finally say 'Okay, today is the day that we have no distractions,' you tell me you'll be there in ten minutes, and you call me ten hours later to say 'Sorry, I couldn't make it.' Do you realize why it's hard for me to trust you? I can't! I just can't do that right now, do you understand?"

"Honey, you're repeating yourself," Scott said quietly.

"I know very well that I'm repeating myself! It's the only way I can get my point across to you. And do not call me honey! You don't have that privilege right now."

"Just please let me make this up to you somehow," he pleaded.

"How do you plan on doing that, huh?" you scoffed. "Making some elaborate, romantic plans, and then canceling them? Oh, yeah that sounds like a great time."

"Why won't you let me try to make this any better?" he exclaimed, suddenly letting his own frustration show through. "I'm trying to look for ways to make this better, but you're shooting everything down."

"Based on precedent," you spat.

"We can't fix this if we're letting it stay broken! That's what we've been doing for so long, and it's obviously not working. It's like knowing there's a problem with your car--"

"Scott, we're not making a car analogy out of this."

"It's like knowing there's a problem with your car," he repeated, "and not doing anything about it until you're broken down on the side of the road with no hope of ever fixing that car unless you want to pay a heck ton of money that you don't have."

"Why do you always try to appeal to the mechanic side of me when I'm mad? It never works."

"I'm trying to fix this car! I don't have your mechanical know-how, not to mention I let my first car die with a kid in the back--"

"Stop!" you shouted. "Just stop! Your stupid car analogy isn't working, so just shut up, okay?"

"I will not shut up until we agree to find a way to fix this!"

"I've tried, don't you get it? I have been doing all of the work to keep us functional, but you're only realizing that when I stop," you stated. "This hasn't been working for a long time, but you only noticed when I broke."

He had nothing to say, realizing that what you were saying was true. He sighed in defeat. "I--" he stopped himself again. "You're right."

"Don't call me again, Scott," you said, suddenly making up your mind. "We're done."

--

The next few months were awful. Everything that your relationship with Scott had built up in you--your confidence, your happiness, your bright outlook on the future--began to crumble from the moment that you hung up the phone. Having Scott in your life had helped you in too many ways to count, and now that you had shut him entirely out of your life, you realized just how much of an impact he had made. Even though he was a little unreliable at times, when he came through, he came through. If you had let him follow through on his offer to fix himself and your relationship, he really would have.

That thought ran through your head constantly. Everything you had said that night had been true but blown to immense proportions. In the moment, your emotions and feelings of anxiety were running high, and it had felt right to break things off with him, but you realized your mistake very quickly. All you wanted was to call him and tell him that you were at fault, too, but your pride kept you from making that move.

"(L/N)," your boss grabbed your attention. "We just got a call from a guy down on the highway. Can you take care of that?"

"Sure thing," you told her. "Where on the highway?"

"Right before the overpass. I'll finish up this oil change," she said.

"Not the worst place to break down," you shrugged. "I'll be back as soon as possible."

"It's so close to close, you might as well just take the rest of the day after you bring the truck back here," she offered. "I'll take care of things here, and you go."

"Oh, really? Thanks!"

"Sure thing, (Y/N). I've noticed you've been kind of down lately, and I figure that you just need a minute to breathe. Have a nice evening," she smiled.

"Hey, thanks, you too," you said, grabbing the keys, then heading out.

Once you sat down in the truck, you took a second before starting it up, sitting in silence. After a deep breath, you turned the radio to your favorite station and left to find the guy that had broken down on the highway.

You could spot the hazard lights flashing before anything else, but as you got closer to the car, you began to recognize it. That ugly old brown Ford van was exactly what you needed to see to cheer you up, given that the right person was driving it...

You pulled over behind the van, but before you climbed out, you knocked on the dashboard twice, the closest thing to wood that you had around you. The van door opened, the driver seeing you parked behind it, so you opened your door as well.

"Hey, Luis!" you greeted hopefully. "How--" your words caught in your throat. That was not Luis, that was who you had least wanted the driver of that van to be.

"Uh, hey, (Y/N)," Scott said, giving a sheepish wave.

"Scott," you answered tersely, a little bewildered.

"I don't want to make this awkward," he apologized immediately. "I just had to know that you were okay."

"Is the van even broken down?" you asked.

"Oh, yeah, it definitely is," he chuckled. "It's like I said, I knew there was a problem with the car, but I--"

"You kept driving it until it broke down," you finished for him. "You have a bit of a reputation for that, don't you?"

He bowed his head bashfully. "I guess I kind of do, yeah."

He kept his distance from you, his eyes on the ground, barely daring to meet your eyes, and you mirrored him. There were a lot of things you wanted to say, and it seemed like he had a lot of things, too, but neither of you was willing to make the first move.

"Let me take a look at the van," you finally said, choosing the quickest way out of the awkward situation.

"Right, yeah!" he responded. "You want me to pop the hood?"

"That'd be best, yeah."

You lifted the hood, and you spotted the problem immediately.

"My word, Scott, when was the last time you tried to get the corrosion off of this battery?"

"Personally? Never," he admitted. "This is Luis's van, so it's his responsibility, right?"

"You drive it just as much as he does. You even help pay insurance, don't you?"

"You remember that?"

You sighed. "Is that even a question?"

"One that I already know the answer to, yes."

"At least you're honest," you allowed. "You're going to need a new battery; this one's beyond repair. If you had done something to clean it off this morning, you would have been fine, but it's gone now."

"The car analogy does work, see?" he stated out of nowhere.

"I'm not doing this right now," you sighed.

"Then later?"

Your eyes met, and you held his gaze for a few seconds. He was earnest in his emotions, doing his best to be as open as possible. He was giving you the opportunity to do the same, and for once, you weren't going to let your pride get in the way.

"If you don't want to, you don't have to. I don't have any plans for the rest of today, so if you want to come by my house later, we can talk. If not, then I'll leave you alone," he promised. "I just had to know if you still think there's something left here like I do."

"No promises," you said. "Just let me change this battery first."

He nodded, backing away to let you work. You worked quickly, then said goodbye. As you drove the truck back to the shop, you contemplated his offer.

"How'd it go?" your boss asked you as you returned the keys to their spot.

"Well enough," you said. "Did you...did you know it was Scott?"

She took a breath. "Yes," she admitted. "I thought that you could use closure."

"Well, you were right," you told her, heading out the door. "And thanks again for the rest of the day."

Once again you sat in your car for a minute before starting it. Then, slowly, you picked up your phone and typed out a text.

See you in ten?

You stared at it for a second before pressing send. Scott's reply came almost instantaneously.

Of course! Cassie and I made cookies yesterday. I hope you like them!

Tag List:  @shamvictoria11 @cookies186 @sweeneytoddler @shuriwithparker

[soaringlanddormitory]

As requested by anon!! It’s pretty short though!! Also, there’s some angst and also death here so if you’re not comfortable with that, don’t read :’00 because i know some of my friends aren’t comfy so,,,

The night was tiring, and there was nothing but guilt inside his head. Kaoru felt heavy and it wasn’t good that he was stuck inside a room.

God, this must be a nightmare. This must be a dream.

He tried biting his tongue or pinching himself to wake up- but he couldn’t. He knew it was a dream, why the hell can’t he wake up?!

The room was entirely dark and he couldn’t see a thing. Fuck. FUCK. He feels so helpless right now, he can’t even find the damn switch to turn the lights on. “I have to find it quick, I already know how this shitty dream goes.” He hissedto himself but it was too late.

The lights was turned on by a figure behind him, and his heart raised the moment it did. He didn’t want to turn back, he knows who he’d see. “Please listen to me, lûuk-chaai.” 

He clenches his chest before pausing in his track. Why can’t he move an inch? Why can’t he walk away or shake himself up from the dream? His heart beat got louder, and he felt his entire soul leaving his body for a moment.

Why can’t he control himself?

“Lûuk-chaai...” The female voice called again, and Kaoru gulped before he turned around to look at her.

“Mèè , I’m listening.” He mumbles, obvious guilt in his voice. His whole body was trembling as he saw the woman’s face, and his eyes began tearing up. “Mèè, I always listened to you.” He repeats, his voice much softer than before.

The woman silently frowns before going closer and cupping his cheeks. “You’re a liar.” 

“... I...”

“Just like your father, Chankul.”

God, not that name. Not that name. He wasn’t like him at all, that’s the same words she said when she...

When she...

WHEN SHE-

“I’m not like him, Mèè...  Mèè... Not like him at all, not like that... man...” 

“You have his hair. You got his charisma... You even have that talent of his to be good in everything he gives effort to. You treat me the same as him...”

“M-”

“You left me alone. Just like him.”

Kaoru held the hands of the woman cupping his cheeks before bursting into tears. It was a dream. A bad dream. A nightmare. But she felt so real. Her hands felt so warm, and she was breathing like a normal human. Her face was exactly like hers. The same pain were in her eyes back when she was alive.

It was her. It was his mother. The person he wanted to love but never loved enough... Because he never had the chance to. The only thing that didn’t allow him to do so was- he can’t talk to people in the afterlife.

“I... I d-didn’t... I didn’t mean to...” He felt himself choking on his own tears. “I didn’t... want to leave you... Nor did I...” He finally broke down, he didn’t hold back. More of, he couldn’t hold back. “I’m sorry.”

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. 

I could have been a better son.

While you still walked with your own two feet.

While you were still breathing.

While I could still hold your hands.

“Mèè ... I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I-I-”

“Chankul. Stop faking it.” She released him and she tried to grab her hands back, so he could at least felt her warmth again. “Stop faking it.”

“I’m not-!”

“STOP IT!”

“I-”

“Chankul.

Chankul!

CHANKUL!”

“KAORU!”

His eyes popped open and he began breathing heavily. His eyes were watery and he began wiping it with his hands. “Dao, oh god...”

“You were sleeping on the floor and you were turning and shaking- I was worried!” She sat back before sighing out of relief. “Cousin, my dearest cousin, if you didn’t wake up I would have brought you to a doctor. It’s good I found you and... maybe broke in here.”

“... I apologize for worrying you.”

“You don’t need to, dear.” She brought his hand to his hair before giving it a ruffle. “It must be another nightmare... Hm... Maybe you are overworking yourself. Take a break.”

“Dao... I can’t suddenly...” There was pain in his voice, with every word. “Leave this place. Mom used to own this, I want to revive it and-’

“Quit being a hypocrite. You tell people to take a break all the time, and you aren’t even doing it yourself! Go back to your dorm, I’ll handle this.” She stood up before brushing her clothes to remove the dust off her. “Follow what I say.”

Kaoru nodded his head silently before breaking a smile. “Fine. I will.”

“Your eyes are all puffy, let’s clean you up THEN you can go back. How about that?” She began helping him up. Seeing him all torn apart like this was something she could never get used to. He usually looked so lively, but seeing how much he trembled- she knew he was masking something. Something much darker.

“Whatever you say.”

Some moments after, Kaoru’s expression did feel the same as always, and he even fixed himself up. Had something to eat, took a shower- hell, he even wore some new clothes. “That’s my fabulous cousin, now c’mere you hot piece of meat!”

He received a hard slap on the back and he yelped. He forgot how strong she was sometimes. “You don’t need to say that.”

“Oh yes I do, you were all saddy-sad. I’ve got to increase your ego so you can be happy again.”

“That’s nice of you. But you should know why I felt that way.”

“Dreams about your mom again, I’m guessing.”

“Exactly.” He quickly answers. “And I doubt any compliment would be able to erase the pain that easily but-” He pointed at his own face before grinning widely. “A fake smile can always trick people, y’know? Plus sometimes I forget I’m acting. Seeing people makes me happier in the inside... But I do believe that the pain still remains.”

Yeah. He was that kind of person.

Outside, he’s one of the sweetest people you’ll ever know! Constant messaging, compliments and even the best interactions-! But if you knew him more... If you knew him more... He might not be as happy as you believe.

“One day they’re gonna know. Trust me. Your dorm mates and your Totsuki friends will notice.”

“I know that. I am planning to tell them. The whole backstory of my family... Yikes, they might pity me for it. Or even feel sad. I don’t want that but they’re my friends. I trust them and I shouldn’t keep shit like this.”

Dao started smiling again. At least he trusted them. She’s terribly happy he does. He’d never tell anyone this unless they were close. “It’s cute that you love your friends so much.”

“Out of topic but hell yeah I do. I’d punch the president for them.”

She bursted out laughing and he went in front of her before opening the door for her. “You’re smooth.”

“Ladies first.”

“Very smooth.” 

She passed by him and poked his nose, which caused him to chuckle.

She was worried about one thing though... Even if Kaoru wasn’t as happy as his friends believed... Would they still love him for who he is?

[ask-svt-hearteu]

Hogwarts! Minghao

anon requested: "Hi! I was wondering if you could do a Hogwarts AU for minghao/The8 like you did for Joshua and Wonwoo?? Thanks and I love your blog!"

 third year slytherin

closest with the other third years in his friend group, Seokmin and Mingyu

also really close with Gryffindor's Jun

he didn't really know anyone when he first came to Hogwarts

really quiet a lot of the time too

half-blood

tried out for the slytherin quidditch team and became one of the beaters along with Jihoon

and that's how he came to meet the rest of that friend group

also hit Jun with a bludger

and stopped Jun from getting the snitch

which had never happened before in Jun's entire time as a seeker

Minghao went to go apologize to Jun in the infirmary because he hadn't meant to hurt anyone was just too good at being a beater

"What?!?! Don't be sorry, I've never failed before, this makes it all the more fun!" Jun said, surprising Minghao

and their friendship started from there

never insult one of them

not unless you want to make thirteen new enemies

Minghao gets decent scores on stuff but is pretty laid back

isn't really seen studying

rather, he trains really hard everyday with the quidditch team

"Grades don't promise a good life, you have to do what you love"

walks around the grounds with his friends a lot

and talks or sits by the lake

also hangs out a lot in the room of requirement

though no one knows why

ask Jun or someone Minghao's close to and they say

"Minghao does his own thing sometimes so we don't bother him, it's tough dealing with all of us all the time."

also spends the most time on the quidditch field compared to the others

practicing or doing flying tricks with Jun

or just flying around the grounds on the weekend with other teammates

also likes spending time in the astronomy tower, stargazing with his friends or by himself

was rumored to have hidden a dragon in the forbidden forest as his pet

but no could ever get any proof he had a dragon

although someone did swear Minghao came into potions one day with his robes a bit burnt

best class is Defense against the Dark Arts

tbh he's too good

never gets below a perfect score on papers and the professor loves him

which sort of bothered you

"I swear he doesn't do any work in the class but the professor just lets him do whatever!" you rant to a friend

ever since you and Minghao met, you guys had a frenemy sort of deal

he had accidentally ran into you in the halls causing you to drop your books

and when he bent down to pick them up for you, you accidentally smacked him in the face with your robes

suffice to say, your dynamic with Xu Minghao had always been a bit complicated from there

"Hey!!! I'm sorry I made you drop your stuff, no need to smack me!" he yelled rubbing his nose

"I didn't smack you and why are you running in the first place, are you lost?" you said flustered

this question was met with some awkward and tense silence

everyone knows the two of you argue over everything

if you both start bickering

"y/n and Minghao are back at it again, PLEASE STOP."

and when you found out he was in the same house as you-

"Wait this means I'm in your classes..."

"I'm just as upset as you are"

"No way, I'm clearly more upset."

"You are not, I'm suffering."

"You're lucky to be graced by my presence."

"Please sweetheart, don't make me laugh."

it was almost funny how you two argued about everything

"No you're supposed to add the root after you stir!" you tell Minghao in potions

"Well if you had read the directions faster, we wouldn't be stuck here!" he stuck his tongue out at you

"Hey you two, stop fighting, you'd think you guys were a married couple or something." your friend laughed at the two of you

"Shut it." Minghao rolled his eyes

"Hey! Don't talk to my friend that way!"

Minghao knew how to push your buttons, and you weren't really sure why

"Ok but think of it this way, he legit never does stuff in Defense against the Dark Arts!"

"This is like the fifth time you've brought him up in a minute, ar you obsessing over Minghao or something? Make up your mind..." she shakes her head sarcastically

"I'm not obsessing over him!"

"RIght." she suppresses a giggle

"You sure you don't like him then?" she snickered

"WHat the ACtUal heCK!" you turn around facing her

"You're always bickering with him over tiny stuff, and he's always trying to annoy you on purpose as if trying to start conversations and stuff." she said hiding a smile

"Are you ok? You didn't get hexed or something did you?" you ask her

which makes her throw her hw at you

"No need for violence but what you said doesn't make any sense." you say handing her back the projectile that was her hw

"You're always talking about him too. Now that I think about it you two are alike in a lot of ways." she shrugs

"What how?!?!"

"Well, you're both the best in our class for defense against the dark arts, you're both stubborn and you're both annoying..."

it was your turn to throw your hw at her

"Look, I'm just saying, if you like Minghao, tell him" she laughs before turning to finish her paper

"I don't like him!" you say blushing unknowingly, "He doesn't do anything in that class! Just sits around with his friends."

"Explain his perfect paper scores then?"

"He has to be cheating, I don't know how, but I'll prove it."

"Explain your blushing then?"

you stopped to stick your tongue out at her and to hide your reddening face

no you didn't like Minghao, right?

he was just some annoying classmate of yours...

the more you thought about what your friend said though

the more you reflected on yourself

the way Minghao always seemed to walk up to you in potions

"Lovely day I would have been having, if only you, my favorite person IN THE WHOLE WORLD, were a bit happier to see me." he'd joke

"Go annoy someone else" you said without looking up

"But I like annoying you, because your reactions are hilarious." he'd laugh

or the way your eyes would naturally wonder over to his face in defense against the dark arts

where he'd notice you staring

and stick out his tongue at you or make a silly face

and he'd laugh seeing you roll your eyes and look away

but you always stared at him a bit after

when he wasn't looking at you

and noticed how a small dimple formed on his cheek when he pressed his lips together for a smile

what the heck are you actually a stalker stop you don't like Minghao... RIGHT?????!?!?!

but as you thought about it more

he never failed to make your life at school interesting

the way he bounded up behind you going into defense against the dark arts to tap you on the right shoulder before ducking to your left side and pretending he never did it

or the way you two would race each other to see who could finish hw first in the common rooms

or how you'd draw a mustache on his face with wingardium leviosa and your quill if he ever fell asleep

you had to admit your feelings for him were more than just some annoying classmate

but what could you do about them?

your relationship with him had always been just frenemies

once you both were trying to figure out the stupefy spell

and you looked over at him determined to beat him to the punch when learning it

and he just gave you a sly smile

before cracking up in laughter when you accidentally broke a desk with your wrongly done spell

when he threw it perfectly at the practice dummy

and walked over like

"Do you need something y/n?"

and you just huffed and threw the spell perfectly on the next turn before turning around to look at him pointedly

which he just returned with an eyebrow raised

"Your aiming could have been better." he comments before turning away

you didn't want to like Minghao, or did you want to like him? he had always been your number one competition, the person always keeping you on your toes

but he also made you laugh when you weren't feeling the best

and his occasional messing up was endearing 

and also made you want to help him when he needed it

"THIS IS TOO COMPLICATED I HATE EMOTIONS!!!!" you groan in the empty hallway before the room of requirement

you needed to get something out of the room but Minghao had popped into your thoughts again

speaking of Minghao popping out of nowhere

"Yelling in the hallways waking up the ghosts again, y/n?"

you nearly scream as Minghao walks up behind you

"Give me some heads up when you show your face, I almost became a ghost." you said clutching your heart

"Yea well, I'm not really up for our usual teasing today, y/n, sorry."

you look up to see Minghao sighing

"Why? Not up for my usual roasting of you?" you joke trying to lighten the suddenly serious mood

"I don't know, I'm just tired I guess." he paced three times pass the door and you watched a door appear

"Should I leav-" you start before he turns to look at you and grabs your arm pulling you into the room

alone

the room was lined with mirrors and you look closer,

practice dummies?

you watched as Minghao threw a spell at one without even seeming to try

and hit it perfectly

"I come here to practice every night, but it's too quiet, and you were here being loud as usual so..." he trailed off

you stared at him as he threw another spell

"Anyway, I hope you don't mind, you can just sit there and talk about how annoying I am if you want, but I just didn't want to be by myself..." he finished blushing

"What?" you said trying to shake your thoughts

"I practice every night which is how I can pull off that stuff in class. I kind of just wanted to show off to you because you're smart, but I guess my plan backfired, since I don't think you like me very much"

you looked up feeling warmth in your cheeks

Minghao wasn't looking at you, he was staring dead ahead at the next practice dummy

"Jun told me I'm clueless on these things, but I don't know what to do. How do you tell the person you like that you like them?" he said giving a cute little frown

you were surprised at his words, "I guess the guy's human after all." you thought to yourself

but you also felt your heart fall

so Minghao liked someone already

it shouldn't have affected you, but you felt your heart ache a bit

"You should just tell her" you said sighing

even if you liked Minghao and he liked someone else, you didn't like seeing him not as his usual joking and vibrant self

"You think so?" he said looking at you

"Yea..."

"y/n?"

"Yea Minghao?"

"Ummm, I- I kinda like you." 

and before you even got a chance to process his words

he pulled you into his arms

hugging you to his chest

"I never really knew how to tell you, and it seemed like you hated me. But you always talked to me even when other people wouldn't because they think I'm too quiet or something. And you were always just there, despite me teasing you all the time. I don't know when, but, I really like you y/n."

he let go of you

you, frozen in your spot

"You can continue hating me now, I just had to tell you before I went crazy." he started to turn away

you grabbed onto his arm and he turned back to face you

"Uh, I kind of like you too...."

Minghao's smile was the brightest you had ever seen it

"What's that? Our loud y/n speaking in a whisper?" he giggled, "Could you say it again, I didn't quite hear you."

"Don't push your luck Xu Minghao, I said I like you too." you crinkled your nose

"So do you want to kind of go out with me?" he said smiling brightly again

"Only if you kind of want to date me..." you said returning his smile

"That's what I just asked."

"Well I'm awkward so what'd you expect?"

everyone freaking SHOOK when you walk into class together not arguing

"Is the world ending tomorrow?" your friend said looking at you then over at Minghao

the both of you just staring at each other and hiding a smile

Mingyu stalking over to you

"Did you finally break Minghao y/n?"

"Hm..?" you said

until Minghao literally shatters the earth everyone is standing on by putting an arm around you and saying "No, we're dating."

and everyone ??!!!??!?!?

"WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN?!?!?"

and everyone is so surprised

except for Jun

"I called it."

"No you didn't."

"REGARDLESS, I told you to tell her."

and the two of you are just the cutest most comfortable softest thing there

racing each other to your next class

games of tag as you pass each other in the hallway

"Tag you're it"

"I tagged you you're it!"

him stealing your books and other supplies to carry around for you

teasing each other with cute pet nicknames

and teasing each other in different ways

"Why can't I hold your hand?" Minghao whined playfully

"You have to be fast enough first." you smirk and raise your hand up to wave in his face

but in a blink your smirk disappears as Minghao grabs your hand, you too slow to react

"Gotcha."

"I hate you."

"Aw come one, you loooooove meeee."

"No I don't."

and he'd grab your other hand too until you're trapped facing him

"What's that?" he said titling his head cutely at you

"Fine," you say giving in, "I tolerate you mildly."

"that's not it." he said before leaning down to kiss you on the cheek

"Try it again." he said laughing

"Fine, I like you. Are you happy now?" you say giggling

"Mhmm. I'm very happy."

The Seventeen Hogwarts AU Series:

| S.coups | Jeonghan | Joshua | Jun | Hoshi | Wonwoo | Woozi | DK | Mingyu | Minghao | Seungkwan | Vernon | Dino |

MASTERLIST

[book-of-conquest]

[I can’t. I’m sorry. I’m turning anon back off. I don’t think anyone will be sending a message but the mere thought is making me panic. Will be editing this post as I add more under the cut soon.]

Where do I start? How do I explain it? Let’s see.

First of all. I would like to apologize. I am so sorry. Please forgive me. Do I seem too excitable? Clingy? Incredulously cheerful over simply plotting or the prospect of interacting or eventhe possibility of shipping? I’m sorry. I don’t try to.

I have been made to feel that people interacting with me is a privilege for me. An honor. Whenever someone considers me plotworthy or shipworthy, I feel like I won a lottery. It’s like pulling a very rare card in one booster pack. It’s like pulling that SSR I wanted in one roll. It’s like getting that natural 20 dice roll.

Why?

Because I don’t feel like I deserve such a thing. My thank you’s turned into I’m sorry’s. Instead of ‘thank you for roleplaying with me’ it instead became ‘I’m sorry. Is it a hassle? Are you bothered? Please don’t force yourself. I’m sorry. Forgive me.’

If anyone noticed, my about page has not been updated much. Some may be wondering, why is my muse being played in such a calm and mellow manner? What’s with all the warnings? What’s with the long guidelines page?

Reiku was chaotic neutral. Reiku was villainous. Reiku was capable of things, terrible things. But he has ‘mellowed’. He was a womanizer. But he has ‘mellowed’. He ‘mellowed’ because I had to make him. I had to mellow him out with the excuse that it came with age.

When I first started Tumblr, I continued it off the plot from where I first roleplayed him. He was desperate to return. Angry against the gods with no care in the world. After going through stage of grief, he simply cared for himself and his own pleasures and what not.

Dark threads were fairly common with me. And I felt lucky to have RP partners that were willing (and often even requested) darker plots. But of course, there were those that didn’t like it.

That would have been fine. If they unfollowed and left, that would be fine. But no, I was made to think that it was my fault. I was made to think that this is how things work.

An OC can’t be better than a canon character.

An OC can’t beat a canon character.

An OC can’t ship with a canon character.

An OC can’t be a villain.

An OC can’t do dark things.

An OC can’t be a hero.

And what happened was... people starting driving away people I want to roleplay with. These days, I try and greet people with waffles, even. Back in those days, I would greet someone with ‘I’m sorry, if anything bothers you at all, please let me know.’ of ‘I apologize if you end up getting bothered by people. I’m sorry.’.

Now, I know that people can be sensitive when it comes to darker things. And believe me, I always always always ask what my roleplay partner wants. Would they prefer a timeskip? Would they prefer to change the direction of the thread? Would they prefer something else? If I don’t get a response, I end up making filler replies to stall until I am sure that the direction of the thread is alright for the other party. I need to make sure that I’m clear. I need to make sure, I’m sorry. I just had to be sure.

Why?

Keep in mind that my muse originally has villainous tendencies. If you unfollow me after this, that is fine. But please let me know if you’ll block me. You see, if you like a person’s post and that person blocks you, it will forever be in your liked post. You can’t unlike it no matter what. And it’s a constant reminder, a constant nagging. You’re blocked. It’s all your fault. BOW YOUR FUCKING HEAD ON THE FLOOR AND APOLOGIZE.

So please, if you’ll block me, let me know first? I can’t... handle seeing those kinds of posts permanently.

Anyway, people started to do campaigns against me. They would see me interact with some people and go message that blog or ‘warn’ them of me.

link

link

And these things confused me. I don’t know why it was happening. Just that it had to be MY fault, right? Because it keeps happening to me only. Other people play villains but they can do things just fine?

So it stuck to me: “It’s because I’m an OC, isn’t it?”

People who knew some of the people going around saying those things go to my inbox to try and comfort me. I was confused but they told me things that I found helped me understand things a bit more.

People were thinking Mun = Muse.

I tried playing a canon character but no, they still went on regardless. No matter what character I tried to play, the moment people knew it was me, it would rinse and repeat.

I don’t see a problem with your RPs, and when I decide to read the entirety of one, I enjoy it. People get upset because they seem to think you force blogs into doing things, which is stupid. It’s not like you can hold them at gunpoint and make them do anything. Jesus people are stupid. Keep doing what you like with your character and fuck the people who don’t like it. I remember when you had a Shen blog and people like… boycotted it because you were running it, and that just reminds me that I hate the majority of the blogs.

people just love to complain way too much and they forget that unless they are the ones getting foreign objects shoved up their butts, they kind of don’t have any room to TALK because THEY/THEIR CHARACTERS are not the ones being violated/broken/whatthefuckever.

And probably the best explanation I got, which I really appreciated from the person that wrote this in a neutral point of view.

I feel, although this is a complete guess, that one of the reasons people react badly to you is because they don’t like seeing someone abusing characters they’ve come to be invested in. One of the biggest conflicts in any roleplaying fandom is between those who want things to be canon and those who are in it purely for fun. When you interact with canon characters, there will always be those who take offence at you ‘torturing, raping and tormenting’ those who they simply don’t want to see that sort of thing done to. Even though you and the other roleplayer are both perfectly fine with what you’re doing, and enjoying yourselves, they turn it into a form of white-knighting and set out to protect the honour of the character in question. I can sympathise with the feeling but I certainly wouldn’t send somebody hate over that sort of thing. It’s a matter of consistency - canonicity within a non-canon universe, if you will. People will always be happy to take advantage of internet anonymity to state opinions that wouldn’t do in plain face and, when you do the sort of RP that you do, there will always be a few who have a sufficient dislike for what you’re doing to get involved. It’s not that they hate you, per se, it’s that what you’re doing is 'wrong’ - not something they can see, or want to see, in 'canon’. In a sense, it’s really not exactly surprising that people would hate someone who had abused or raped a person that they love, is it? Reiku has built up this reputation, deserved or not, and it’s far too easy to paint him as someone who goes around taking advantage of canon characters and leaving them in the dust once he’s done with them. As I’m sure you know, people on the internet often find it easier to hate than they do to simply look away. By doing controversial things, even if they are 'consensual’, you’re going to invite anger from people who don’t want to see that sort of thing happen to the characters they’re attached to. He isn’t overpowered, guilty of powerplaying or being built up as some sort of conquering hero, it’s just that, however infrequent, he’s finding success. Call it the mark of the successful villain, if you’d like, but Reiku is earning genuine hatred because people don’t like seeing him get his way. People call him a Marty Stu, as I see it, because they see him doing things that they really, really don’t like or think he should be able to. Even with his weaknesses, his failings and all the times that he’s been left to suffer alone, it’s always easier to focus on the women, the power and impact he’s left it his wake. Your OC actually gets things done and you RP so much, and with so many people, that he’s seen to have a huge effect all over the place. It simply doesn’t matter that he gets his come-uppance when he’s already seen to have got his way. Like I said: Reiku isn’t really part of a consistent universe so everything he does exists in a vacuum, in essence. You may be treating all his relationships and interactions with equal respect but it’s all too easy to see someone who’s having his way with women from a range of fandoms, even if he’s being shot down more than he’s getting anywhere. It’s just a matter of perception and it’s simple enough to read him as a womanising asshole, who doesn’t give a damn about the women he gets with, and become embittered against him because people simply don’t want to see the canon characters treated that way - even if it’s not what you’re really doing at all. It’s the plight of being an OC, like you say. People usually give far less leeway to OCs because, like it or not, they’re going to read him as someone who doesn’t belong - someone who isn’t on the same level as the canon characters. Reiku is a villain who gets victories, of sorts, over established characters. Whether they’re deserved or not, people are always going to take issue with that.

But I still can’t get it out of my system. I still believe that it’s my fault. I tried playing canon characters but it happened again. So it MUST be my fault.

Until now, I can’t play canon characters. For the life of me, I tried doing so but I was so terrified that I left that blog alone before deleting eventually. I can... only play this OC. I can’t play anything or anyone else.

Every message frightens me. I’m scared. I’m terrified seeing that number pop up on that message icon. The discord/tumblr IM sound makes me jump every single time. I don’t know why I don’t even mute it. It feels like if I did, I might end up flooded without realizing it and the idea of being flooded with messages telling me how I’m a piece of trash that only writes to force my fantasies on people nags at me.

It takes a lot for me to click a follow button, to send a message. That’s why my messages are so... generic. So neutral. Because I’m afraid that I might do something wrong again.

I’ve also stopped suggesting some things. I’m always going to suggest something safe, something that people won’t find anything wrong with (hopefully). I will always ask ‘what would you prefer?’ or say ‘I’m not really sure yet’.

Because I have to be thankful for threading. I have to be thankful for interacting. I have to be thankful for plotting. I have to be thankful for shipping. It’s a privilege that someone like me does not deserve but is bestowed by those who deem me worthy.

Or else, those things might start happening again. Reiku has ‘mellowed’ because if he didn’t, people would hate me again. I can’t have him acting like before nor can I have him display any abilities aside from his tenacity and regeneration. Or else I’m going to lose roleplay partners again and it’s all my fault.

I’m sorry.