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bloodandtime · 1 year

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exit light, enter night

cw: fem!reader, there’s a lil slightly like squint and you’ll see it angst, fluff, probably eddie being way smoother than he actually is, plus size!reader, kind of insecure!reader but not like self deprecatingly so, uh weed smoking, happy ending :) suuuuuper self indulgent:) also eddie didn’t d*e cause this song came out in ‘91. oh and i have never worked at a vinyl shop so… i went off straight vibes lol

Enter Sandman is ringing through the store as you step in.

“Munson!”

A headful of curls spring up from behind the counter, brown doe eyes wide and anxious as they meet yours, he knows he’s playing the music too loud.

“Hey, sweet thing.” he says as lowers the volume.

Floorboards creak as you make your way to the back room. You can hear Eddie’s boots stomp behind you.

“Eddie, I’ve told you to stop calling me that,” you sigh, shrugging your coat off.

He’s leaning against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest, leather jacket under his battle vest, black jeans and combat books sit on his frame. Like they’re made for him.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he says with a wink.

Embarrassed at being caught, heat creeps up your neck. You groan and shoulder bump him out of the way, trying to ignore how solid he is under those layers.

His laughter follows you to the register.

“Is it just us today?”

He hops up on the back counter. chain jingling as he gets comfortable. He smiles, and it’s sticky sweet.

“Sure is, sweethea-OW.”

He glares as he rubs the spot on his forehead where the pen you threw at him hit.

“Stop flirting with me and work!”

He jumps down from the counter and exaggeratedly looks around the… empty store.

“Yeah, we sure are swamped. How will we ever make it till close?” comes his sarcastic drawl from your side.

You guess the snowstorm outside is keeping customers at home. It’d be a nice evening… if Eddie wasn’t here.

Honestly, he’s fine. It’s more of a you problem. You can’t keep focused when he’s around, and you think he might have caught on. Eddie takes any and all opportunities to flirt with you.

You figured he did that to everyone, not wanting to read too much into it but the only other person he flirts with consistently is Steve.

Sarcasm is how you deflect Eddie’s advances, even though he flirts with just you (and Steve) it’s hard to not think about how he might be fucking with you.

Mess with the fat girl, lead her on, it’s funny. Let her think she has a chance and tear it away from her and laugh at the thought of her thinking anyone would like her.

Ugh, I’m not a teenager anymore, you’d think I’d be past these insecurities by now.

You scrub a hand down your face and sigh, trying to shake yourself out of that toxic thought cycle that’s so easy to fall into.

“You okay?”

Eddie’s still beside you at the register, now leaning against the back counter. He’s staring, brows furrowed.

Despite yourself, you shoot him a soft smile. That catches him off guard, you’re always so quick to the defense.

“Yeah, Eddie. I’m all good, just tired.” you sound it, voice rough.

Before he can ask anything else, you tell him you’re going to work on the returns from this week and get started organizing the vinyl before close.

You’re off to the back before he can even open his mouth, which honestly is impressive. That boy can talk.

It takes about an hour to finish up returns and you shuffle back to the front, shocked to see Eddie has already started organizing.

“Oh shit, tha-,” you’re cut off to Eddie jumping half a foot in the air and yelping out in surprise.

You bite your lip to stop your laugh but it doesn’t stop the shit eating grin that spreads across your face.

He points at you, cheeks flushed, “Don’t.” he says with a finger pointed at you.

You can’t help the giggle that escapes and Eddie’s eyes soften, happy to see you’re smiling. Even if it is at his expense.

“I was going to say thank you for starting to organize, I’ll start from the other end of the store and we can meet in the middle.”

He nods, a sweet smile on his face. Before you get lost in his dimples you busy yourself with vinyl.

It’s been another hour and a half and everything is in its rightful place. Both you and Eddie are sitting on the back counter, shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh.

No one has come in during your entire shift and there’s another two hours before close and the snow still hasn’t stopped.

Eddie leans his head back and lets out a loud groan, “I’m soooooo bored, why can’t we just close?”

He peaks down at you, slumped at his side. He follows the shape of your eyes down the slope of your nose to your lips.

“I know a way we could pass our time,” he blurts out, unable to stop himself. He’s still staring at your lips.

You look up and meet his amber eyes, his gaze more intense than you’re used to. You want to squirm, he’s looking at you like he wants to devour you whole.

“Oh yeah? What should we do?” you bump his shoulder, and he shakes his head and the moment is gone.

He pulls a joint out of his pocket, and your jaw drops.

“I’m not smoking weed at work, Edward!” your voice going up an octave.

He snickers as the horror stricken look on your face.

“Hey, come on. No one has come in and no one will. I’m surprised if we’ll even be able to leave.”

You’re still hesitant, he’s not wrong but you’d rather not get caught.

“Fuck it,” you slap your hands on your tight covered thighs, jumping down your skirt flounces back into place, Eddie tries and fails not to stare, “so where we doing this?”

He hops down beside and gives you another smile, pleasantly surprised you’re going along with this.

“Come on, I’ll show you my spot.”

He runs to the front door to lock it, he makes his way back to you to throw an arm around you to take you to the back.

You don’t fight him, to his surprise. You maybe even lean in a bit, he’s enjoying the contact too much to tease you though.

Turns out his spot is just a covered porch at the back of the record shop, you snag your coat on the way.

“Oh Fuck Me it’s cold,” you gripe as you step outside, the wind whips snow outside the porch, you can’t even see five feet in front of it.

“Shit, maybe you’re right, we wont be able to leave.” you worry, pulling your coat tighter around you, leanings closer to Eddie.

Eddie pulls you closer, relishing in the contact. He doesn’t know why you’re being so nice tonight but he’s not complaining.

“Worst case, you can come with me. The van drives just fine in the snow.” he exhales the first drag, you try not to stare and fail.

He hands the joint to you, your fingers already frozen. As you take a hit you register what he just offered. Now you’re coughing and not just because of the joint.

“Slow down it’s not going anywhere,” he says through a light laugh as he softly rubs your back.

“Did you just offer to take me home with you?”

It’s his turn to cough, and your turn to pat his back. You repeat his words back to him and he gives you a half hearted glare, a smile tugging at his lips.

“I was being gentlemanly and you’re the one making it dirty, I’ll have you know.” he reprimands, wagging his finger at you.

He takes another drag and passes it back, your fingers brush and it’s a shot of electricity up your arm.

The weed is definitely taking effect.

Eddie can’t take his eyes off the way your lips wrap around the joint, right where his lips had just been. An indirect kiss.

You’re quiet when you speak next, after handing him the shrinking joint.

“You’ve got to stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Being so kind to me. Makes me get my hopes up even though I know it doesn’t mean anything.”

The wind whistles around you while Eddie and you stare at one another.

You feel his arm pull away from you, and you’re convinced this is it as you look away so he won’t see you cry. He’s going to tell you sorry and he’s not interested. You can handle it, it’s not the first rejection you’ve faced.

You can’t look at him though, tears sting, threatening to fall.

“Hey,” he whispers, softer than you’ve ever heard him, “look at me, please.”

His hands find your cheeks, warm against your wind-chapped skin. Joint long forgotten as he tilts your head to look at him.

“It means something. It does, to me, it does. I’ve liked you since I started here. It’s not a joke and I’m sorry I’ve made you feel this way,” he pauses, his thumbs softly graze the tops of your cheeks.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please.” you whisper.

You and Eddie Munson have your first kiss in a snowstorm, freezing cold and perfect.

#YAHTZEE #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x plus size!reader #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson x chubby!reader #eddie munson x chubby reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson headcannons #eddie munson headcannon #stranger things x yn #stranger things blurb #stranger things headcannon #stranger things x plus size reader #stranger things x reader #gabby writes #this is VERY VERY sulf indulgent i hope someone else likes it cause i really do and if u dont pls dont let me know lol #i wrote this months agooooo

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annfirestar · 2 years

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4KotA Incorrect quotes

Gawain: If you like me, raise your hand.

Lancelot: What if I don’t?

Gawain: Raise your standards.

-----

[Someone being rude to the Isolde]

Gawain: sees it

Gawain: HOW DARE YOU?!

Gawain: whistles and holds her hand out

Tristan: comes down from the sky and lands on her hand like a bird

Tristan: YEAH, HOW DARE YOU?!

-----

Tristan: fills some paperwork to officially register all KotA as Holly knights

Tristan: Were you guys born AMAB or AFAB?

Lancelot: Bold of you to assume I was born at all.

Gawain: I personally was created in a lab.

Percival: I just straight up spawned, lol.

-----

Elizabeth: Tristan got in a fight.

Meliodas: That’s bad.

Meliodas: …

Meliodas: Did he win?

-----

Gawain: is carrying all the groceries

Isolde: holds out hand to help

Gawain: aggressively moves all the groceries to one hand to hold Isolde’s hand

-----

Annie: You lying, cheating, piece of shit!

Donny: Oh yeah? You’re the idiot who thinks you can get away with everything you do. WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD!

Annie: I’m leaving you, and I’M TAKING PERCIVAL WITH ME!

Lancelot, picking up the monopoly board: I think we’re gonna stop playing now.

-----

Percival: Can we sleep in your room tonight?

Lancelot: Why, what happened?

Gawain: We played with an ouija board and cursed all of ours.

Nasience: And Tristan isn't much help. He doesn't know how to banish spirits, so he's just throwing salt at them and yelling, "Does this look like a hotel to you?!"

-----

Tristan: Did you have to stab him?

Gawain: You weren’t there. You didn’t hear what he said to me.

Tristan: What did he say?

Gawain: “What are you going to do? Stab me?”

Lancelot: That’s fair.

-----

Tristan: I don’t think we can mansplain, manipulate or malewife our way out of it this time.

Gawain: cracking her knuckles

Gawain: Manslaughter it is.

-----

Cop: Sir, you do know that it's illegal to ride a motorcycle with three people right?

Lancelot: Wait..three?! Oh shit, Percival fell off!

Gawain: I watched him fall. It was hilarious.

Tristan: I tried to catch him…

-----

Lancelot: I left instructions for everyone while i'm gone.

Percival: Mine just says "Percival, no"

Lancelot: I want you to apply it to every possible situation.

-----

Lancelot: 25% of the time I'm actually nice to people.

Tristan: And the other 75%?

Lancelot: Pure sarcasm baby.

#nanatsu no taizai #sds #the seven deadly sins #nnt #4kota #mokushiroku no yonkishi #four knights of the apocalypse #mnyk #gawain #lancelot #tristan #percival #elizabeth #meliodas #isolde #anghalhad #donny #nasiens #incorrect quotes

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postmodernmulticoloredcloak · 1 year

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tagged by @fragiledewdrop ^-^

Rules: answer the questions and tag fifteen mutuals.

1. Are you named after anyone?

Well, I have the same name as my great-grandmother. I’m not exactly named after her, but I suppose the name sounded nice to my mom.

2. When was the last time you cried?

I don’t remember lol. Unless tearing up because of a cold counts.

3. Do you have kids?

Nope. I’ll never have kids but I intend to dote on my nephew and niece as much as I can :)

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Not really. On the internet a little bit, offline no.

5. What’s the first thing you notice about people?

I don’t know? I try to register their features as much as I can, because I’m face blind, so I focus on the distinctive things, like hair, glasses etc. (It doesn’t work.)

6. What’s your eye colour?

Brown. I’ve got a classic mediterranean complexion, but not too hardcore.

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

Happy endings...

8. Any special talents?

I’m good at cooking, especially risotto. And I’m good at learning languages too, although for me it’s just a casual hobby.

9. Where were you born?

Hospital in a small town in the province of Milan. I suppose it was alright, I was very bad at being a fetus and almost got myself killed in utero, as one does.

10. What are your hobbies?

Mostly being on tumblr, writing fic, taking walks. For this year I have a new year resolution to read more books (depression a while ago killed my ability to read books, I’m trying to recover that. Last year I read a few, this year I’m aiming at one a month or so.)

11. Have you any pets?

Black and white cat called Micio. Sweetest old guy ever.

12. What sports do you play/have played?

I tried a few as a kid and hated all of them. Karate as a teen I liked but I had undiagnosed branchial problems that made it difficult for me so I stopped after a couple years, also high school was taking most of my energy lol. I did pilates both as a teen and in my early twenties but I interrupted that bc of depression. Now I just walk and ride my bike.

13. How tall are you?

Something between 160 and 165, I think?

14. Favorite subject in school?

I loved many. I was a super big nerd in school. Honorable mention to philosophy because that’s the one I decided to pursue in university, but also italian and greek and maths... Physics and chemistry I struggled with a little, but it was still satisfying when I understood what the hell I was doing.

15. Dream job?

Having one of those tv programs where the host goes around the world and visits places and eats local food. I ain’t going to go that but you said dream, so.

I tag you, random citizen! (aka consider yourself tagged if you want to do this.)

#tag thingie #blabbering me

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comfyswitcherblanketfort · 3 years

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IUI - Roach is Baby

Wifey told me Jask needs to meet Roach and fuck she was RIGHT

warnings: I... went a little horse girl on main? sorry? no triggers, just cuteness. also i was tipsy whilst writing the last half so like... im sorry if theres typos or its unreadable lol

_______________

“I’m sorry. I just have to go check on Roach before we go to dinner,” Geralt cringed as he turned away from the restaurant Jaskier had wanted to go to.

Jaskier just put a foot on Geralt’s dash and made himself comfortable, “Oh what’s wrong with our baby?”

“Our baby?” Geralt nearly swerved into a ditch.

“I’ve seen enough pictures and heard enough stories that I happen to have grown attached. Now answer my question,” Jaskier didn’t seem phased at all. In fact, he seemed to think it was perfectly normal to just adopt your partner’s animals after three months of dating.

Geralt took a steadying breath and tried not to read into it. Jaskier said wild things all the time, he was just beginning to get used to it, “She got her teeth floated.”

Jaskier was quiet for a moment, tapping Bonnie the Blue Footed Boobie on his thigh, “I’m having some horrible image of pumping her mouth full of water until her teeth come out, please tell me what this means.”

“Horse dentist filed down the sharp bits of her teeth so she can chew better.”

“Oh! Ow!”

“Oh no, they sedate the horses. That’s why I didn’t answer last night. I- uh. Didn’t want to leave her in case she laid down and got cast.”

Jaskier shifted and peered at him over the rim of his sunglasses with a fond smirk, “Sweetheart, I don’t speak Horse Girl.”

“Cast is… cast? Getting stuck laying down? But stuck on or under something? Once Roach did it by rolling on a pile of shavings I hadn’t spread yet so she couldn’t roll back over where she had room to get up. I had to pull her back over it by her legs…” he chuckled at the memory then paused as he turned into the barn’s driveway, “I see how this sounds odd.”

Jaskier sat upright and leaned forward, mouth open in awe as he took in the stables that looked like something straight out of a high(er) budget daytime soap, “So this is why you live in a studio.”

Geralt sighed as he parked the truck in front of Roach’s barn in between the indoor arena and the massive covered wash racks, “Yup.”

Jaskier got a brief tour, or more accurately, he followed Geralt to Roach’s stall and pointed at things and asked questions the entire time. There were so many horses. He’d never seen a horse up close, except for that one mounted police officer on his trip to Canada and that wasn’t an all too fond memory. He was almost vibrating with excitement when they reached Roach’s stall.

Geralt stepped in and greeted her so softly Jaskier thought he might faint, “Hey, Ro. How’s my sweet girl?”

She pressed her forehead into the hand he held up and nickered. Geralt just laughed and scratched under the little tuft of long hair between her ears. He leaned forward to give her a kiss and whispered something in her ear that Jaskier couldn’t catch despite his best efforts.

Geralt turned back to face Jaskier, looping one of his arms over Roach’s neck and giving him a proud almost-smile, “Wanna come say hi?”

Jaskier ever so hesitantly stepped down into her stall, “She won’t step on my toes if she doesn’t like me right?”

“She might. She’s never met someone in Berks and daisy dukes,” Geralt winked as he ran his fingers through Roach’s mane.

Jaskier took a moment to register his sarcasm and flipped him off with a grin. Geralt gently gripped his wrist and manipulated his hand into a flat surface, popping a sugar cube in his palm.

“Just keep your hand flat and let her sniff you. She’s easy to win over,” Geralt’s voice was unbearably fond and Jaskier found him watching his face more than the horse reaching her nose toward his outstretched hand.

It was one of two times since he’d known Geralt that he didn’t have at least one solid worry line in his forehead. Hell, his whole body was more relaxed.

Roach took the sugar cube and explored his hand, wiggling her upper lip over his palm and wrist before snorting and shaking her head.

Jaskier yelped and jumped back, earning a confused head bob from Roach and a laugh from Geralt, “It’s okay. Something just tickled her nose.”

“She’s just so big…” Jaskier muttered, stepping forward and holding his hand out just like Geralt had shown him.

“You can pet her too.”

Jask just brushed his fingertips over the white patch on her face but she pressed into him, bobbing her head a bit to use his hand to scratch at a certain spot between her eyes.

“Oh! Hello! Does this mean she likes me?”

Geralt’s smile covered his whole face, another thing Jaskier had only seen a handful of times, “She does. You want to go for a ride?”

“Now!? In shorts?!”

“Oh no, sometime next week maybe? You’re not supposed to ride for a couple days after a float.” Geralt started running his hands over her back and belly, then her legs as if he was looking for something. He pinched right at the peak of her rump, making her flinch a little bit and swish her tail, which he seemed satisfied with. Then he pushed at her middle, just gently leaning against her and watching her feet. When nothing happened he seemed pleased and moved on to checking her water and kicking around some of the shavings and, to Jaskier’s disgust, poop.

“Darling what are you looking for?”

“Anything unusual. She looks fine though,” he draped his arms over her back, now on opposite sides from Jaskier, “Could I convince you to walk her up and down the breezeway for me?”

Was this the date night Jaskier had been expecting? No. Was it absolutely adorable and delightful to see Geralt so clearly in his element? Fuck yes. He giggled and played little games with Roach and was so gentle and patient with both Roach and Jaskier. It was, so far, the best date they’d been on, first one included. Jaskier had gotten a little peek at who Geralt was when he was truly at home.

After a brief and very goofy showmanship lesson, they strolled out of the barn with Geralt’s arm draped over Jask.

“I’m sorry. Restaurant’s probably full by now…” Geralt sighed, opening Jaskier’s door for him.

Jask hopped up on the seat and pulled Geralt to stand between his knees, “I don’t give a flying fuck about where we eat. This was lovely.”

There was a look in Geralt’s eyes that reminded Jask of a little kid being told they could play outside for one more hour, “Really? You had fun?”

“Of course, darling,” Jask mumbled as he pulled Geralt further into a kiss, “Just give me heads up next time so I can wear my boots.”

“You have cowboy boots?”

“Well they’ve got a rather high heel… but they’re still technically cowboy boots.”

Geralt leaned his head back and laughed, “I’m getting you barn boots.”

“If you insi-,” Jaskier shrugged, cut off by Geralt’s lips on his, where they stayed for several minutes.

They were definitely too late for a table.

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anntidote · 3 years

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:club room keys - sawamura daichi

back to: series index || ann’s playground

pairing: sawamura daichi x fem!reader

word count: 2.6k

warnings: timestop!au, TW!!dubcon, smut, angst, pwp, blowjob, deep throating, penetration, i still don’t know if this counts as somnophilia (?), mentions of kageyama, michimiya, and oikawa

summary: rain comes down heavy after student council duties, but you still have to drop off a set of keys. luckily, daichi helps you out- and there’s only so many ways that you can repay him.

a/n: dedicated to @ceo-of-daichi simply because lydz deserves a different daichi D word than drought. so here’s some dick LOL.

the ring of the intercom and the bustling life of students. the clatter of shoes against the blue tile and chatter of passing conversation, definitely fell on deaf ears. your form slumping against the desk, and the weight of your face leaning into your palm.

it'd been a couple days since your last run in with tobio, and the whole ordeal of the bathroom incident. the thoughts of him still living rent free in your mind-- at how his eyebrows scrunched up. pursed lips and the weeping tip of his cock, almost blushing the same shade of rose that graced his cheeks.

wait. you shook your head. no. you told yourself you wouldn't think of him like that anymore.

tobio doesn't deserve to be a rebound. he deserves to be treasured, and loved correctly. your job was to keep that awkward, wobbly smile on his face when sipping on his milk straw. you were to worry about his studies, and whether he goes straight home after practice.

the last thing that should be bothering you is the voice at the back of your head. tethering your mindset elsewhere, and questioning why he was jacking off in the school bathroom in the first place.

what made him so frustrated that he went during class?

did he like someone that much? was it someone you knew?

was that someone perhaps you?

"so will you do it?" hands slamming down on your desk, you bolt upright in shock. snapped out of a day dream, you're met with the sight of michimiya, captain of the girls' volleyball team. a crumb or two still on her face, her lopsided grin holds hope when she stares down at you.

"h-huh?" you barely register her words to respond, still alarmed. "i asked if you were willing to drop off our gym's keys after practice. i need to hurry home to do something-- but…" she retracts her hands and props them on her hips. "... are you doing alright? you've seem out of it these couple days. it's not like you."

"if i could turn back time and fix what i did, i would."

your nose scrunches up a bit at the impromptu flashback. "just peachy."

"oh really?" a tinge of sarcasm sprinkled into her reply, you luckily miss the flash of pity in her eyes when you finally look up at her.

almost as if she knew.

"well, i hope things get better for you."

"yeah, yeah." you wave off the topic. "but you said you needed me to drop off keys or something?"

"ah, right!" her usual go-lucky smile making an appearance. "sawamura asked if he could borrow our gym after practice for the last couple days, but i have to promised to run some errands back at home. i was hoping you could swing by the club room after student council, and drop off the keys for me?"

you bit back a laugh, trying to keep the best poker face you could- as the pleading expression on her face looked like something out of a cartoon. "i don't know…"

"oh my goodness, please! i already promised sawamura, and it's already hard enough, trying to get all the members to get to practice and-"

you grab her shoulders, halting the blubbering, and frantic look in her eyes. "calm down, yui! i was only joking- of course i will."

…

rain was something tooru despised.

his complaints were one of a child, as it ruined his hair. it made everything sticky, and smell like wet dog. being out too long would make him sick, and if there was too much of it- it would turn into a storm. it could turn into a hurricane. or even a typhoon.

and it's honestly ironic, even as you hold your bag over your head. your rubber sneakers hitting the mud and pavement, rushing to get under the roof of the club building. much to your luck, the reminiscent squeak of rubber isn't heard, as the gym doors were shut. letting out a huff, the sheer amount of relief that pours over you when the familiar screech of the metal door opens is a blessing.

"hey! you made it-- oh my gosh, get inside!" he cuts off his warm greeting, as he grabs your wrist, pulling you into the room before the door slams behind you. "holy crap, you're drenched."

"thanks for stating the obvious, daichi." you snarkily remark, but still giving him a small smile.

you knew daichi for a lot of reasons. being the karasuno boys' volleyball captain, he's been noted as one of dependability. a solid rock in a foundation, and everything the student body says about him is relatively positive.

but even as a third year, you can still remember his shenanigans like it was yesterday. how he dashed past you whilst racing the basketball team's captain, and accidentally hitting the fire alarm. you couldn't even count how many times he'd had a run in with the principal's toupee.

but even now, in his plain tee and black shorts-- there's this responsible look in his eyes. a quality only built up by experience, and you mentally applaud him. especially when you learn the sheer amount of siblings he had.

"here's the keys for the other gym." you drop the keys into his open palm.

"ah, thanks." a hand moves to the back of his neck, a tell tale sign of his nervousness. "but i thought michimiya was dropping these off."

"yui had something to do today, so she asked me to. hope you don't mind it being me instead of your girlfriend."

his eyes widen, beginning to frantically shake his hands in front of him. "n-no! that's not what i meant at all! she's not even my girlfriend, i-" he cuts himself off at the sound of your laugh, as you clutch a palm on your mouth. a grin peaks through his annoyance. "hey! why're you laughing so bad?"

"i'm sorry but what the heck is this?" you push past him to point at the poster at the far right corner of the room.

"bikini girls? really?"

the blush that comes over his face is absolutely hilarious. "t-that was-!"

"man, who knew sawamura daichi, captain of the volleyball club was a boob man! wait until yui hears about this!" you almost double over in laughter, watching steam puff out of daichi's ears in utter embarrassment.

"don't you have somewhere to be?" he tries to divert the subject, only to hear a crack of thunder beat you to a response. the onslaught of rain beginning to hit the window panes at full force, and the lights flickering. "... nevermind."

"i meant to ask, is it okay if i'm in here?" looking down, you fiddle with the hem of your skirt. "this is the boys' club room after all."

unfortunately for daichi, the implication doesn't go over his head. and the fact that you're confused about why his face seems to flush a further shade of red seems to seal the deal.

that man, does daichi hates being a guy right now.

his initial intent was to simply shield you from the rain. the simple connection that he didn't want you to get further drenched, and fall sick because of the favor he asked for. but now?

he feels guilty when his eyes draw lower, the tune of your laughter and friendly banter playing like background music. he swallows at the translucency of your uniforms while dress shirt. how the faint blue shape of your bra cups your chest, and how the damp fabric seems to cling to your skin. the jealousy of the water droplets that run down your neck and into the divet of your collarbones.

you're in the boys' volleyball club room right now. clothes and gym bags strewn about, the smell of teenage cologne, and all alone.

"t-the rest of the club is in the gym with the coaches." daichi stutters, before coughing to clear his throat. "we can just wait until it lightens up and make a dash for it."

"sounds like a plan! how's tobio doing with sho-- achoo!" you start, only to sneeze mid way.

"crap, your clothes are soaked from the rain." you hurry to wipe your nose, as daichi hands a set of spare clothes toward you. "here."

you raise an eyebrow. "why do you have another set of gym clothes?"

"after hinata puked at our seijoh game, i'm not taking any more chances-- oh shit, wait!" he explains, before his eyes widen at your fingers undoing your blouse buttons, and hurriedly turning the other direction.

you giggle at his panic stricken face, before proceeding to peel the dampened cloth off your body, and your mind still processing the fact he had to have mentioned seijoh. but then a voice chimes in from the back of your head, crying out desperately.

"if i could turn back time and fix what i did, i would."

it's truly unfortunate. and you genuinely sorry for daichi, as you dig into the pocket of your soaked blazer, and pressing the lone button on the stop watch. the pattering of the droplets against the window, halting in its path. the swirl of winds silencing, and the thunder strike through the air, simply pausing at your fingertips.

you're not stupid. you knew where daichi's eyes trailed, especially as you drop your underwear and skirt to the floor, altogether. stepping out of the clothes and bounding toward the captain, sinking to your knees, and staring up at the frozen crimson tint of his face.

you knew the moment you were pulled into this room, that this was a bad idea. and right then and there, your entire consciousness told you that this was your chance to be a good person.

… but was tooru ever a good person?

you let out a small gasp as you grab at his clothed bulge, already half hard through the cloth of his shorts. feeling yourself salivate, you begin to slowly pump. pawing at his size, coaxing him into a full erection.

and honestly, you wonder what would go through daichi's head right now. what would this man think as you pulled down his athletic wear, and how you stared at him in pure wonder. what would he do when his cock lewdly slaps against his abdomen, and falls shy of your lips? what would he do when you swirl your tongue over hips tip, lapping up the weeping cry of arousal, and savoring his taste? taking him deeper, peering back up through fogging vision, as your struggle, and choke around him. coating him in spit, saliva dripping down your chin, and making an utter mess.

you coo at how responsive he is, even when unconscious. the frozen look of his face is one of guilt, but the tips of his ears are the same shade of his cock. you wish to tell him that it's alright, as you were definitely more of a sinner than him. popping off of his length and heaving a full breath, you stand. cupping his face by the cheek, and gently nudging his face to meet yours.

"sorry." your whisper fans hotly against his face, as you continue. moving his limbs almost like a doll, laying him against the floor, and having your legs on either side of his hips.

but if you were going to have fun, it's only fair you'd share it.

the thunder strikes far from where you are, and the heavy breeze makes the windows wobble. but daichi doesn't seem to care- as everything hits him like a truck.

the slick of your mouth, and the choke of your throat. the pumps of your soft hand against his shaft- and how you brutally sink your weeping cunt onto him. the ungiving clench and sheer heat of your pussy had his hands flying to your hips. his eyes widening at the sight of your hands against his chest. fucking yourself onto his cock, moaning his name like a mantra, and lust blown gaze staring right back at him- his eyes roll back as everything becomes too much.

he cums. rope upon rope of milky essence spills from him, legs shaking and earth shattering. daichi almost screams, as the pleasure is borderline painful. the sight of you was too much to handle, and undoubtedly made him double over. "ah shit-!"

daichi doesn't know how you paused time once again, just to make sure he doesn't cum inside you. he doesn't know how quickly you dropped to your knees, mouth wide open, and how he releases down your throat. how you milk every single drop out of him before freezing the world at will.

all daichi knows is confusion and the fuzziness his head pounds with. when suddenly, you're not on top of him anymore. his form is turned, facing the wall again. shaky legs, and not laid against the floor.

"daichi? are you okay?" you call out.

he coughs, turning toward you. "y-yeah…" his confusion etching even more as you're wearing his spare shirt, still in your skirt, and a tilted head facing him. "... i think."

you laugh, hitting his shoulder playfully. "goodness, does the lightning scare you so bad? you look like someone just sucked the soul outta ya!"

he thinks you don't know a thing. the sight of your walls sucking him in fresh in his mind makes heat, and guilt simultaneously pool at his gut. he thinks you're the most innocent soul on earth when you lean in toward him, pressing your palm on his forehead, and giving him an eyeful that makes his breath hitch, before taking a step back.

"don't get sick on me now, captain. you take care of everyone else, so who's going to take care of you?" you tell him off with a wink, only for him to hum an incoherent response, and his mind still buzzing.

was that all his imagination?

"oh look! it's lightening up!" you snap him out of his train of thought when you smile, grabbing his hand, pulling him forward. "let's make a run for it!"

"w-wait!" he stops your other hand from turning the door knob.

you turn toward him, eyebrows raised. "huh?"

it definitely catches you off guard as daichi leans in to look into your eyes. you feel your heart pound in your ears when you stare back. the caramel shade of his skin and the dark pupils trying to analyze you- trying to figure you out. "d-daichi?" you stutter out.

"a-ah… sorry." he pulls back before muttering something under his breath. something about it feeling real.

and it almost hurts as you facade innocence, letting go of his hand and racing toward karasuno's second gym. bags over your heads as you pound against the door, and laugh heartily as kageyama messes up a serve in your presence. it almost hurts as your cunt weeps arousal, and ruins your new, navy blue set of panties.

because it's ironic at how much you told tooru how much you loved the rain. how fun it was as a child to jump into puddles, and dance. how the pattering felt like the knock on a door and a call out to play. how easily rain covered for all the moans that daichi never got to hear when you came around him, walls creaming him in your slick. how the wind howls loudly so that no one could hear you babble your gratitude, and at how thankful you were. and how rain was the best excuse for your tears. the most viable excuse of why your face was an utter mess the other day.

and how it seemed to rain the same day tooru broke your heart in two.

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set-phasers-to-whump · 3 years

Text

silence

prompt: hand gagging

whumpee: shawn spencer

fandom: psych

hi welcome to another psych fic! this is set before shawn takes a shot in the dark but like anytime before that. brief setup of the scene is shawn is exploring someplace (not important where) for a case, by himself. jules is out of town for something (which is only relevant for a sec but i wanna make sure it’s not confusing lol). anyway i hope you like this fic!

Shawn doesn’t stop running when the bullet hits him. In fact, he doesn’t even register the impact, too caught up in getting the hell away from this guy with the gun.

He skids around a corner, nearly losing his balance, then turns down a hallway. He risks a glance over his shoulder and sees his pursuer come around the same corner, then pause for a second and look both ways. Shawn ducks out of sight as the man’s eyes come his way, but he hears more gunshots and approaching footsteps and realizes he hadn’t gotten out of the field of view quickly enough.

He starts running again, and suddenly realizes that his left arm is wet. Which is weird. He spares a glance at it as his feet fly over the tile, and notices with alarm that it’s red. He thinks it has to be blood, but he doesn’t know from where. He reaches out a hand to touch it and -

Yeah. That had been a mistake. He barely stops himself from screaming as his hand makes contact with what he is rapidly realizing is a bullet wound in his upper arm.

He can’t deal with this right now - he’s running for his life and he’s been shot and he might get shot again and maybe even die, and he can’t die right now, but his arm really hurts and it’s making it kind of difficult to think about what he should do.

Shawn turns another corner and there! - ahead of him, on the right, is a door with a sign on it. He doesn’t pause to read it, just wrenches it open with his good arm and shuts the door behind him, just as he hears the footsteps of the gunman turn the corner after him.

Shawn stumbles around in the small, dark space, which he can infer is some kind of storage closet. He feels for a lock on the door handle and, disappointingly, finds none. He moves to feel for some kind of implement to defend himself with, instead - a broom, maybe - but his leg hits something on the floor and sends him stumbling forward and his left arm slams into something hard and metallic and he clamps his right hand firmly over his mouth to stop himself from screaming. His blood pounds in his ears from a combination of pain and fear that he’s about to be discovered, and his entire left arm from the elbow to the shoulder feels like it’s on fire or something. He breathes heavily and unevenly into his hand and forces himself to not make any other noise.

Above the pounding in his ears, Shawn listens. His pursuer’s footsteps approach the closet, and he clamps his hand still harder over his mouth, trying desperately not to breathe at all. The footsteps pass his hiding spot and he feels suddenly, horribly dizzy with a lack of air and he wants to breathe and he wants to scream or maybe cry and he wants out of here and he really wants to not die and to not have a bullet wound in him. God, it hurts.

The footsteps fade away. Shawn hears a door open and slam and then there’s a muffled curse, as of one who has lost their prey. He moves his hand away from his mouth at long last and breathes, ragged and pained and barely controlled. He’d scream, or maybe at least whimper, but he still can’t be completely sure that the guy is really, truly gone. Maybe he’s trying to trick Shawn, maybe he’s waiting for him to reveal his location and then he’s going to come back and shoot him in the head this time, and that’ll be it. So he can’t do anything more than breathe. He can’t leave this closet, not yet.

He just has to let someone else know what’s happened. Then they can make sure that the guy really is gone, and then Shawn will be okay. Yeah. That sounds like a good plan.

He texts Lassie with his usable hand. The head detective’s response is quick and quite possibly a little angry.

You got shot?

not on purpose

We’ll be there in ten minutes. Keep pressure on the wound. And don’t try anything stupid.

Oh. He hadn’t thought of putting pressure on his arm. His dad would be so disappointed...but there’s no time like the present, so Shawn sets down his phone and presses his right hand into his left arm.

And suddenly really wishes that he had another hand, to muffle the sounds of agony that are absolutely begging to come out of his mouth. Pressing into the wound hurts about a million times more than the wound itself, and he really wants to let go, but he knows he’s supposed to do this and it’s only for a few minutes, but it hurts. He can’t quite stop himself from whimpering in pain, but the door doesn’t come smashing open, so he figures he’s not being too loud. He feels a hot tear run down his cheek and hot blood seeping into his fingertips and he hopes Lassie really had meant ten minutes.

Almost exactly ten minutes later, Shawn becomes aware of voices in the hallway. He can’t quite place them, and for a second, he panics, and then he hears Lassie’s voice, shouting at someone to do something, and if Lassiter’s here then that means he’s safe.

“I’m in here!” he shouts, and lets go of his arm to grab at the door handle and let himself out. His bloody fingers refuse to get a grip on the metal, though, and they slide off, but it doesn’t matter - a second later, the door’s opening and he has to step out of the way and then he’s face to face with Lassie and if he didn’t know better he’d say he almost looks worried, and then he remembers his arm but finds he doesn’t really have the energy to scream like he’d wanted to do so badly before.

“It hurts,” he says, instead, and his voice is barely above a whisper. “Am I dying?” He doesn’t think so, but you can never be too sure.

“You’re fine,” Lassie is saying, but that’s easy for him to say, he’s not the one with a bullet in him. “Or, you’re not dying, anyway.”

That’s all I needed to hear, Shawn thinks, and then another wave of dizziness hits him and everything starts to spin, and then he’s falling and someone’s grabbing him and they hit his hurt arm and he does scream, now, finally, loud and raw and with the force of all the screams he’d forced down before behind it, and then everything fades into nothingness.

He wakes up slowly, uncomfortably, achingly. None of the good stuff, he thinks glumly. Thanks, Dad. He turns to look at his left arm, and is pleased to see that it’s no longer bloody. It’s wrapped in bandages and a sling and he wonders how long that’s going to be on, and how long until he can get out of here, because any amount of time spent in the hospital when he could be out there doing stuff is time wasted.

“You’re here for at least another day,” comes a voice from his right side, as though its owner has read his thoughts, and Shawn jolts in surprise, turning around.

“Lassie! You scared me.”

Lassiter shrugs. “Sorry,” he says, and there’s hardly any sarcasm at all behind the words.

Shawn doesn’t know what to focus on first - the fact that he’s apparently stuck here for at least 24 more hours, the fact that Lassie has just spoken to him almost completely nicely, or the fact that Lassie’s even here at all.

He’s trying to decide what to say when Lassiter speaks again. “O’Hara’s on her way. She said there was some traffic, but that she should be here within the hour. I believe Guster said something about the cafeteria a few minutes ago, and Henry said he'd stop by after dinner. The Chief sends her regards and hopes you’ll be pleased to know that one of our officers apprehended your shooter.”

Now Shawn really doesn’t know what to say. What does Lassie have to go being all nice and…message-delivery-y for? He’s silent for a moment, trying to work out what exactly to say, but in the end figures simple is best.

“Thanks.”

Lassie doesn’t say anything, but there’s something that you might call the barest hint of a smile on his face, and it’s more than reply enough.

thanks for reading this! i’m still p new to writing psych and i’ve never written lassie before so i am very sorry if anything seems ooc. i will learn! anyway i hope you liked this :) love u all <3

#summerofwhump #summerofwhump14 #hand gagging #shot #psych #shawn spencer #my writing #i say things #tbh i was not entirely sure what 'hand gagging' meant so i went with my own personal interpretatino which was the hand over the mouth deal #anyway yes i know my title sucks ass i am sorry but i can't be bothered to think up anything clever tonight lmao

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olivia-lovecraft · 4 years

Text

Who We Once Were

Take a trip down memory lane, pull up the oldest ‘about’ post you can find for your character, and annotate what has changed and what has stayed the same in {Curly brackets}.

Originally posted: November 11th, 2017

Olivia came to Tumblr in August of 2017, but I was too new to know that people liked character sheets.

Olivia Lovecraft, Lover of the Unloved

~Appearance~

Gender: Female {Same}

Race: Human {Same}

Height: 5’6” (5’3” without shoes) {She some how shrunk one inch. I write her as 5′2″ these days. Not sure why, lol}

Eye Color: Green Hazel {Her eyes are just described as green because I found that people saw her that way even when I wrote “green hazel.” I am cool with it.}

Hair Color: Dark Chestnut {Same, though many people will call her hair black. I roll with it since I know Eva Green has black hair in several roles she plays.}

~ The Facts ~

Name Day: January 4th {Same}

Occupation: Seamstress / Designer and Scribe {Same, though her role as a civilian contractor to the military has come up a bit as well.}

Sexual Identification: Heterosexual {Same}

Romantic Identification: Monogamous {Same. This is simply how she identifies romantically, with no additional qualifiers, despite having been in a poly relationship.}

Relationship Status: Single (and hard to love) {She is arguably still hard to love, but she is now in a happy, long-term relationship with @carlkrogen}

Alignment: Wicked Good {Oh...oh no. I thought I was clever, but Olivia is Neutral Evil, to be certain.}

Criminal History: No history of crimes committed, but she has a record of sorts. During the Burning Crusade, she voluntarily registered as a Warlock with Stormwind City. This comes up whenever someone looks for a criminal history, despite her innocence. {She still hasn’t been caught being shady or terrible, so no record.}

~ Favorites ~

Favorite Food: Rare Roasted Venison {Same}

Favorite Drink: Wine {Specifically sweet Dalaran Red.}

Favorite Animal: Spider {Same}

Favorite Scent: Lily of the Valley {Same.}

Favorite people: Sylaera, Quinaeris, and Zelmaris. {This has evolved, but not because she loves these people less. Since these characters don’t show up in her life anymore, she has new favorites. Carl [ @carlkrogen ] Dragaur [ @silentasagrave ] Darthea [ @darthea-the-demon ] Lorcan and Alle [ @lorcanbeithioch and @allebeithloch ] Alice [ @alas-ward ] and Quin [ @subjectragnar ] are easily her favorite people today.}

~ Randoms ~

Ten facts about Olivia Lovecraft:

1. She has protection wards inscribed upon the tops of her feet. These intricate designs are made from an ink similar to henna dye, but give off a faint abjuration aura through her shoes. {Same.}

2. Beneath her make-up, Olivia has freckles, and she secretly loves them. {Same.}

3. With the leftover scraps of fabric from her clothing projects, Olivia makes dress-up clothes and outfits for dolls, and donates them to the Stormwind Orphanage. {Same.}

4. By her appearance, it is assumed she is in her early 30’s, but Olivia has yet to tell anyone in Stormwind her exact age. {Same, though she does look just a little bit older.}

5. While her education was social-centric, Olivia picked up a few skills which weren’t commonly appropriate for a young woman of the landed gentry. Her chaperone, and cousin, Kaliban Silentsun, taught her to shoot a rifle and fight with a saber. Although she never purchased a rifle of her own, she keeps, and occasionally carries, her cousin’s saber. { This one made me sad! Early in her story, when I had her just doing random rp in Stormwind, someone stole the saber from her. That person stopped playing the character before we could run the storyline for Olivia to get it back, so I have always assumed she simply lost the weapon forever and now I am sad for her. }

6. Having never learned to swim, Olivia is hesitant to participate in voyages across the ocean. {Olivia learned to swim late last summer. She is not a strong swimmer, but she can at least swim enough to avoid drowning.}

7. Olivia is a self-proclaimed lover of unloved things. She is drawn to people who are loners, collects chipped teacups, and considers spiders to be her favorite animal. {Same.}

8. In all the years she has lived in Stormwind City, she has been mugged on six separate occasions. During these robberies, she has given up her gold and jewelry without a fight, even if she may have had the upper hand. To her, this stands as a testament of dedication to leading a normal life. {This number has surely increased, but I stopped keeping track. No shade, but a few guys have tried to rob her as a pick up line.}

9. Olivia’s modest occupation as a seamstress is one borne out of necessity. She covets the finer things in life, but no longer has the means to afford the finished products from other designers. The raw materials, on the other hand, are not so expensive. {This is still true, but Olivia’s income has increased thanks to some IC connections she has made.}

10. Olivia’s Duskwood home stands as the setting for numerous ghost stories. Accounts of young men and women sneaking into the empty home for romantic adventures often end with harrowing tales of escape from a siren-like spirit haunting the estate. Olivia is amused by these claims and makes no attempt to explain them. {Olivia’s Duskwood home burned down in a storyline in 2018.}

~Five Things~

Things she likes:

1. Cool, sunny days {Same.}

2. Tragic romances {Same.}

3. Philosophical conversations {Same.}

4. People watching {Same.}

5. Unloved things {Same.}

Things she dislikes:

1. Violence {Same.}

2. Prolonged silence {Same.}

3. Wide open wilderness {Same.}

4. Uneven cobbles {Same.}

5. Corsets {Same.}

Good habits:

1. Punctual {Same.}

2. Clean (Personal hygiene, anyway) {Same, and her housekeeping has also improved!}

3. Attentive {Same.}

4. Exercises daily (though you would be hard-pressed to catch her at it.) {Same.}

5. Makes a wish at every fountain she passes. {Same.}

Bad Habits:

1. Messy / Disorganized (She is one of THOSE people. One who doesn’t tidy up after herself but still seems to know where things are.) {This has changed significantly. She keeps a tidier home but still hates dusting.}

2. Sarcasm / Dark Humor {Same.}

3. Drinks (sometimes heavily) {Same. Although she has cut back, her habit is still heavier than healthy.}

4. Occasionally summons demons (never in the city) {Same.}

5. Really likes sweets {Same.}

Personalities she gravitates toward:

1. Brooding {Same.}

2. Dangerous {Same.}

3. Mysterious {Same.}

4. Masculine {Same.}

5. Talkative {Same.}

Personality types she avoids:

1. Aggressively Insecure {Same.}

2. Misogynistic {Same.}

3. Senselessly Evil {Same.}

4. Senselessly Lawful {Same.}

5. Overly Gullible {Same.}

Fears:

1. Losing her eyesight {Same.}

2. Succumbing to her demons (figuratively) {Same.}

3. Dying {Same.}

4. Spending her entire life alone {Same, though it is less of a fear now that she has Carl in her life.}

5. Her cousin Diana {This is no longer a fear since Diana has approached Duchess Beithloch and she promises to pose no threat to the “silly girl.”}

This was really fun! Thank you for the tag @alyssa-ward!

Tagging: Anyone who was tagged above as one of Olivia’s favorite people, but also anyone who wants to do this thing.

#tagged #prompt #old character sheet #not too much has changed

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badchoicesposts · 5 years

Text

Don’t Dream It’s Over Chapter 3

Series Summary: Liam and Ali thought that their relationship was perfect, but their whole world came crashing down when Constantine called him back to Cordonia. Four years later they meet again at Liam’s bachelor party, determined to make things between them work even if it isn’t always easy.

In this AU, Liam and MC (Ali Moonessar) dated for a year in New York while Leo was still crown prince. They broke up when Constantine asked Liam to come back to Cordonia, but they meet again at Liam’s bachelor party before the social season. The story will contain flashbacks, which will be italicized, of their relationship and follow them as they try to navigate the season with Ali as a suitor. I’ve messed around with the timeline a bit so that it fits the story better. I’ve also added in a few OCs of my own.

Pairing: Liam x MC (Ali Moonessar)

Word Count: 2,752

Taglist: @flowerpowell, @timmagicktoad, @kingliam2019, @ao719, @emceesynonymroll, @hopefulmoonobject, @dcbbw, @qammh-blog

If you would like to be added to the tag list let me know!

A/N: In this chapter you’ll get to learn a bit more about Ali’s family.

This is my first time ever posting a fic. Please let me know if you enjoyed it and would like to read more. I thrive on validation, lol. Thanks for reading!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Ali had spent time in Drake and Liam’s apartment before. She spent most of her time there if she was being honest. She was lucky that Drake liked her enough to tolerate her presence there as much as he did. However, she had never really spent much time in the apartment alone. One of them was almost always there with her.

She let herself into their apartment, looking around as she waited for Liam to come home from work. It was strange to be here without either of them. This place had been a second home to her for the past six months, but without Liam, it seemed big, cold and empty. Ali kicked off her shoes and made her way into Liam’s room. She dropped down onto his large bed, the soft mattress relaxing her muscles and alleviating some of the ever present pain in her lower back.

Her eyes began to close as she gave into the drowsiness that had overtaken her body. However, the peaceful moment was interrupted as a sudden chill went up her spine, and she immediately shot up in bed. A soft scratching noise seemed to be coming from inside the walls, and the lights above her head flickered. She looked around the room frantically for a moment before the scratching noise chased her out to the living room, where she waited impatiently for her boyfriend to come home.

When Liam arrived he saw Ali curled up on the couch, the decorative throw blanket pulled up over her head. Even though he had sat with her and calmed her down, it was obvious that he thought she was being ridiculous. He had laughed at the suggestion that what happened had anything to do with the supernatural universe and simply went to change the light bulb. Ali had the same experience several times after that night. Each time a chill would run up her spine before she heard the scratching noise and saw the lights flicker. Each time she had felt a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach, and each time Liam had blamed it on faulty wiring or old light bulbs.

This time, however, Liam was lying in bed next to Ali when it happened. His face had been buried in her neck, and as he began to press gentle kisses to the skin there, the lights flickered. She jumped out of his arms as the scratching began and looked at him pointedly.

“There’s a fucking ghost in your bedroom,” she said, almost hysterical at this point as she watched Liam look around the room with furrowed eyebrows.

“I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for this,” he said calmly, attempting to pull her back down next to him.

She pulled her arm away from him and placed her hands on her hips.

“There is no logical explanation for this,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm around the word ‘logical’. “You have to move.”

Liam began to chuckle as he looked at the girl fondly. He stood up and walked over to her, wrapping her up in his strong arms. As his body enveloped her much smaller one, she could feel his chest vibrating with laughter.

“Don’t laugh at me!” she said angrily, her words muffled as she spoke against his bare skin.

“Sweetheart, I promise you there’s no ghost,” he said, trying to hold back his laughter, as to not frustrate her further.

“Then why does that keep happening?” she asked, turning her head to look up at him.

Liam brushed one of her dark curls out of her face and kissed her forehead gently.

“I promise I’ll talk to the landlord, and we’ll figure it out,” he said softly.

Ali pulled herself out of his arms and made her way back over to the bed.

“You won’t figure it out because it’s a goddamn ghost,” she grumbled under her breath, pulling the covers up around her.

Two strong arms pulled Ali backwards, and she crashed into a hard chest. She looked up to see Bastien holding her close and reaching to grab Liam’s arm as well. Another member of the royal guard pushed his way in front of the two of them, stopping the reporters from getting too close. Bastien kept one arm wrapped protectively around her small frame, and his other hand rested on Liam’s back as he guided them towards the hotel. His jaw was clenched, and as the three of them rode the elevator back up to their floor in an awkward silence, Ali could tell he was extremely agitated.

The rest of the guys from last night were all lounging around the sitting area of Liam’s room when they entered. They were each nursing their own hangover, but could easily tell that something was wrong as a negative energy entered with them. Maxwell looked over at them from where he was smothering jam on a piece of toast. The look of hope that was on his face from seeing them enter together quickly disappeared.

Bastien paced up and down the length of the room, and for a few minutes everything remained completely silent.

“Your father is going to be furious,” he finally spoke.

He didn’t look angry anymore. Instead, a look of concern crossed his features. Liam released a deep breath and his shoulders sagged the slightest bit.

It was unsettling for everyone to see him look so defeated. He had always been strong-minded and strong-willed. It had been drilled into his brain from a young age that he should never show weakness and that it was always necessary for him to carry himself with an air of confidence.

Ali stood glued to her spot by the door, not knowing what to do. The only time she had seen him like this was right before he had gotten on the plane back to Cordonia. Every one of her instincts told her to go to him and comfort him, but there was a voice in the back of her head saying that it wasn’t her place anymore. Even if it was, she wouldn’t know what to say. The world of media and nobility wasn’t one she knew anything about. Instead she just watched him. She watched as he took a breath, straightened his spine, squared his shoulders, and put on a mask of neutral expression.

“I’m sure my father will find some way to properly address the press as he’s done for Leo several times in the past,” he began calmly, before turning to face her, “Ali, you were completely right. I have a responsibility to Cordonia, and I should have never said the things that I did last night or this morning. It was a poor judgment call on my part. I apologize for upsetting you and my momentary lapse in judgement. I’m afraid you won’t be able to leave until the crowd outside disperses, but you are welcome to remain here in the meantime. Please excuse me.”

With that, he walked to the bedroom of the suite and closed the door behind him. His words were short, and Ali could see that he was struggling to say them with as little emotion as possible. However, knowing this gave her no comfort as she once again felt tears stinging her eyes. He spoke as if he were addressing the public as a politician, not to the person that he claimed to love. She roughly bit down on her lip, desperate to not cry in front of a group of men that she hadn’t even known for twenty-four hours. She felt exposed, and she wanted to run and hide. But, her feet were rooted to the floor.

Drake approached her slowly and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, but she barely registered his presence.

Ali wasn’t sure how long she stood there watching the door that Liam had just disappeared behind, but she probably would have been there longer if the sound of several phones going off hadn’t pulled her out of her thoughts. Maxwell, Charlie, and Leo all pulled out their phones and skimmed through something before looking at her and each other nervously.

“What is it?” she asked, her voice hoarse. Maxwell made his way over to her cautiously and handed her his phone.

“Damn, they work fast,” she heard Drake say as he looked down at the phone over her shoulder.

The web page was opened to a Cordonian news site, and the title “Prince Liam’s Bachelor Party Hook-Up” was staring back at her in bold letters. There were pictures of the two of them kissing on the street outside the hotel and some of the group leaving the bar last night. The reporters had caught bits of their conversation, and the article told of how he begged her to stay with him, speculating how the pair knew each other.

Ali handed the phone back to Maxwell and stepped so that her back was pressed against the wall, depending on it to keep her upright. She was aware that everyone in the room had their eyes on her now. Taking a look at her own phone for the first time that day, she saw several frantic texts from Cole’s sister, Emma, and a few from his older brother, Luca, asking where she was.

“Moonessar, do you want to take a walk? My room is right down the hall,” Drake said cautiously, as if he were expecting her to have a meltdown at any moment.

“No,” she said, already bringing the phone up to the ear as she spoke.

She listened to it ring several times, relaxing at the sound of the voice that picked up.

“Luca, I need you to come get me,” she said, before turning and walking out the door.

************

Ali had known the Larson family her entire life. The four Larson siblings had been born into a household with an abundance of money but absentee parents, and when Ali was young, her mother had worked as a maid and nanny for them. Ali grew up alongside the siblings and became fast friends with Cole and Emma because the three were close in age. When both of Ali’s parents died in a car accident, Cole’s older brother, Ezra, had insisted that she move in with them. She was only nineteen and had been such a mess at the time that they all agreed it was for the best. She had been living with them ever since, and the Larsons had become the siblings she never had and the family she needed. They had always been there for her.

Luca was the oldest of the four siblings, and even though he and Ali couldn’t be more different, their connection had always been different than they one she had with the others. Luca was the most put together person that Ali had ever met. He had expensive tastes, always wore a suit that had been perfectly tailored to his body, and was a prominent lawyer in one of New York’s biggest law firms. However, regardless of their differences, Luca and Ali seemed to balance each other out and had a natural chemistry that made them unstoppable when they worked together. Luca was kind-hearted and very obviously cared for her in a way no one else ever had.

The other siblings had often joked that the two should just get married and finally make Ali an official Larson, and while Ali knew that Luca was everything she could possibly want in a partner, there was always a piece of her that couldn’t commit to a relationship with him. It was the piece of her that had always and would always belong to Liam. She had casually dated other people after Liam, but she had too much history with the Larsons to even consider that with Luca. If she entered a relationship with him, there would be too much pressure from the family for them to get serious, and she knew that she wasn’t able to fully give herself to him. So, she didn’t, and instead they had formed a different relationship. They weren’t like siblings, but they weren’t in a relationship either. She couldn’t explain what they were. They were just close.

Now, sitting in the front seat of Luca Larson’s car with tears streaming freely down her face, Ali wanted nothing more than for him to pull her into his arms and tell her that everything was going to be okay as he had done so many times in the past.

“Luc, I-I m-made a mistake,” she choked out as he pulled into the parking complex a few blocks away from the building they lived in.

After parking the car, Luca turned in his seat to face her and placed a hand on her knee, tracing soft circles on it through her jeans.

“Let’s get you inside. We can talk there,” he said softly.

He got out of the car and ran to the other side to open her door for her. He kept her locked tightly in his embrace as they rode the elevator up to the large penthouse apartment they all shared. Upon entering the two were met with the angry face of Emma Larson.

“Where were you? You know that if you spend the night away from home you’re supposed to let someone know! You’re lucky we didn’t call the police!” she began, before Luca shot her a look that quickly shut her up.

Even though Emma was the youngest in the household, there was no doubt that she was the one in charge. She currently had a tape measure hanging around her neck and was clutching fabric scissors tightly in her hand. From a young age she had been into design and had recently been trying to make her way into the world of fashion. She tended to “stress create”, and it was evident that she had been doing so for quite some time as there were varying fabrics in different colors spread across the living room floor. Her loud voice had pulled Cole and Ezra out of the kitchen, and they both straightened their bodies into a protective stance upon seeing Ali’s tears. Luca led her over to the couch, and Ezra went back into the kitchen to get her a glass of water before joining the group.

“What happened?” Luca asked, his voice was gentle as he spoke to her.

Ali shakily pulled up the article on her phone and handed it to him. She watched as his jaw clenched momentarily while reading it and had to stop herself from crying even harder.

“I’m sure it’ll all blow over in a day or two,” he said, a soft sigh escaping his throat as he handed the phone to his siblings.

“The article isn’t what I’m upset about,” she breathed out. “I- I slept with him, and I shouldn’t have. I know I shouldn’t have, but I saw him last night, and I didn’t know how to let him go again.”

“You slept with him?” Emma exclaimed.

“Well, obviously. What did you think she was doing when she didn’t come home last night?” Cole asked casually as he lounged back in his chair. Ezra and Emma both glared at their brother.

“I feel so stupid. You should have seen him this morning. After we got mauled by the press it was like he just turned all of his emotions off. After everything, after telling me that he loved me, he just dismissed me like it was nothing in front of all of his friends. It was humiliating. God, I’m such an idiot.”

A fresh wave of tears began to fall down her cheeks, and she pushed off her glasses.

“This is all your fault!” Emma said, glaring angrily at Cole.

“How is it my fault? I didn’t tell her to sleep with him!”

“You don’t leave your friend alone in a bar with their ex!”

“I didn’t leave them alone! All of his friends were still there! Drake was there!”

“Children, please,” Luca said in an exasperated tone, his siblings’ antics only furthering his frustration.

Ali buried her face in the decorative cushion next to her, wishing that she had actually used her common sense the night before and hating Liam for the things that he said. In a hotel room less than an hour away from her Liam was staring at his computer screen, hating himself for hurting her and dreading the conversation he was about to have with his father.

#the royal romance #trr #the royal heir #trh #liam x mc #the royal romance fic #trr fic #liam x mc fanfic #liam #king liam #my fics #choices fics #choices #playchoices #playchoices fic #king liam fanfic #the royal romance fanfic #liam fic #playchoices fanfic

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everlastingdreams · 5 years

Text

Dex x Reader: Sugar Crush Chapter 3

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Notes: I remember using google a lot for this chapter lol

Summary: Reader moves into the same building as one Agent Poindexter. A bond starts to grow between them. Can the reader move on after a traumatic past ‘relationship’ ?

Chapter: 3/?

Trigger Warning: Mentions of physical and emotional abuse ! YES this one will come with trigger warnings. I tried not to post too much into detail stuff but this entire thing comes with a trigger warning !

Word Count: 2144

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You woke up early the next morning, when you left your ex you had promised yourself to take the most out of every day. Part of you wanted to stay in bed, but you knew that some fresh air would be good for you. He had wanted you to be afraid, afraid to leave, and you did not want to give him the satisfaction of keeping you scared. And perhaps you could meet more people. You drank your coffee before you switched into your running clothes. It had been so long since you had done a morning run. Your ex used to forbid you to do so, afraid you might start running and never return to him and he was right to think so.

You grabbed your Ipod and looked for a good song with a good beat to it. Lastly you took your bag that you hanged over your shoulder.

You stepped out of your apartment carrying some pancakes you had packed up. The moment you locked your door, Mr.Wilkinson stepped out of his.

“Mr.Wilki-” he looked at you “..Bob” you smiled at him kindly as you caught yourself. “Goodmorning. I have this for you.”

You walked to him holding out the plate of pancakes.

He looked at you puzzled for a moment before his eyes lit up in suprise as he took the plate from your hands “Oh my ! These smell delicious. My wife once attempted to make these, she however used salt instead of sugar by accident.”

“Really ?” you giggled at his story.

He nodded “Really. She of course refused to admit her mistake.”

You laughed at his words “She sounds like she was quite the woman, Bob.”

“She was. She really was.” His eyes were sad for a moment before his cheery mood returned “Well, I should get these inside. Thanks again (y/n). But..”

You waited for him to continue “Yes?”

He got a bit closer to you “You were able to make these pancakes, does that mean you were able to get an egg from the guy upstairs ?” his whispering suprised you.

“Yes. I also brought him some last night to thank him. We talked a bit.” Why were you whispering as well now??

He seemed suprised “He's a quiet one. Keeps to himself mostly.”

“He's seems nice though.” you quietly informed him.

“Good to hear. This city has a lot of good people in them, but a lot of bad ones too.” he pointed his finger at you as if he was trying to teach a child.

“Well, It's time I go out and meet the 'good' people then. I'm going for a run.” you tilted your head towards the stairs.

He put his hand on the doorknob “That's a good plan. And if you run into the wrong people, keep running.” He patted you on the shoulder as he laughed.

You let out a chuckle “I'll remember that advice, thank you, Bob.”

You waited until he was back in his apartment before you made your way down the stairs and out of the building. You had googled for a good path to run.

The air smelled fresh, the rain from the night before was still drying up on the streets. It was only when the sun started to sting your eye that you realised you had forgotten your sunglasses. You shrugged it off. There was no one in Hell's Kitchen that knew you, who would ask about the bruises or the cut? Why should you care ? You were free now, and as your feet began touching the ground in a quick pace you also felt free.

You had planned to run along the East River Bikeway, it had been a good decision as you were able to enjoy the company of other early runners and the impressive architecture of the bridges.

Knowing that there were other people following the route you were taking had to be a good sign that this really was a good route for a jog.

You had been running for a while now and you stopped for a moment to catch your breath. Your hands on your hips as you breathed out.

You heared a yelp and you looked up and around you instantly. A girl had fallen on the ground. You hurried to her side “Hey, are you okay ??” you held your hand out to her and she took it. You pulled her to her feet again.

“Hey, Thank you. I tripped over an empty beer bottle I believe.” she brushed the dirt off of her knees.

You noticed what looked like a broken MP3 player laying on the ground right next to her feet.

“Is this yours ?” you kneeled and picked the MP3 player up from the ground. The sudden sad look on her face confirmed your suspicions.

“Yes. I can't believe it is broken.” you handed it to her and she desperately tried to switch it on.

The way she looked at the MP3 player in despair made you think that this girl didn't have the budget to get a new one. It made you think back to the days where you yourself missed having one, music just made the world better, a way to escape the harsh reality.

You took your earphones out and grabbed hold of your Ipod “Hey, I'm sorry about your player. Look, I uhm.. I have another one of these at home and I would love for you to have this one.” you held out your Ipod to her. Her eyes widened as she looked at the Ipod in your hand “What ?.. no I can't accept that..” she stammered.

You just smiled at her “I know how shitty it can be to exercise without listening to music. And this one isn't new or anything. Just an old Ipod. I barely use it anymore.” It was a lie, you bought the thing new not long ago. You placed it in her hand and she looked at it in disbelieve “Thank you so much ! This is just.. wow.” her excitement was worth the Ipod.

“You're very welcome. Sorry if the music on it isn't that new, you will notice I am a Queen fan.”

She shook her head as she figured out how to work with the Ipod “That's perfect! I am too. Hey, listen uhm.. if you give me your number, perhaps I can find a way to repay you for this.”

You held up your hand “No.. you don't have to-”

“Please ? you have been so kind.” she interupted you.

You nodded in agreement and gave her a number. Not your number, you didn't want her to feel like she owes you something.

You talked to her for a bit longer before you said your goodbye's and she went back to run in the other direction.

You wanted to check what time it was and grabbed your phone from your bag.

As you took your phone out of your bag to check the time you weren't paying much attention to your surroundings.

That's when it happened, you felt a strong pull on your shoulder almost making you drop your phone.

The pull was short but forceful, and you couldn't believe your eyes as you realised what was happening. A guy was running away from you now, in his hand he was holding your bag.

A gasp escaped you as you saw it “HEY !!!! STOP!!!” you bolted after him.

Hell no, you were not going to let someone just steal your bag like that.

The other runners moved aside in suprise at what was happening. You tried to keep up but damn this guy was fast.

A sudden breeze of air passed over your shoulder, it took you a second for your eyes to register what had caused the breeze. What was that ??

The object hit the back of the thief hard and he stumbled and hit the ground face first.

You stopped dead in your tracks when you saw it happen, the thief was on the ground and next to him.. a water bottle ?

You started walking towards the thief, still wanting your damn bag back.

Someone ran passed you and once they were past you he turned around “Wait here. And call the police.” your eyes now focused on the person in front of you.

Your mouth fell open in suprise as you saw your neighbour from the floor above you standing in front of you, wearing a running outfit and cap.

“Dex ?” you gawked at him.

He nodded as he held up his hand, telling you to stay put. You started to dial the number and explained what was happening to the police. He turned back to the thief who was starting to get up “FBI !” Dex said casually as he walked to the thief “I'd suggest you stay down.”

He grabbed the thief harshly and restrained him with ease as he used his knee to keep the thief on the ground and held the thief's hands behind his back.

The police soon arrived at the scene and Dex pulled the thief off of the ground and walked him over to the police vehicle. You had to stay and tell the police what had happened.

“So he stole your bag and then you were chasing him?” the cop asked you.

You rubbed your arms “That's correct.”

“What happened after that ?” the cop was taking notes as you answered the questions.

“The asshole tripped over his own feet and hit the ground.” Dex spoke up before you could.

You looked at him, knowing damn well that that wasn't the complete truth. You knew the thief was struck by a water bottle and that was what made him fall.

The cop looked a bit suspicious “Is that correct, Miss ?”

“Yes, he tripped and fell. That is when Special Agent Poindexter restrained him until you arrived here.” you decided to lie, he did just stop a thief that tried to steal your bag. Dex's eyes fell on you momentarily when he heard you confirm his version of the story.

“Alright then. I'll be taking this guy back to the precinct. If we should need any further information we will contact you. Have a good day, Miss (l/n).” the cop tells you. “Good job, Special Agent Poindexter.” he gives Dex a tap on the arm before he gets in his vehicle and drives of with the thief.

“I'd take it that throwing a water bottle at a thief isn't something the FBI teaches you, Special Agent Poindexter ?” you turned to look at him, wanting to see his reaction.

He looked around him before he finally looked at you “No, they stick to teaching us how to beat them up or shoot them most of the time.” there was a tad of sarcasm in his voice.

“Shame. It would be a very entertaining sight.” you dryly told him.

He let out a chuckle and moved his hand over his face “Yeah. It would be..yeah.”

“Thank you, Dex. Thanks for saving my bag, I don't know what I would have done without my favorite granola bar that I carry with me. I mean, imagine me running all this time and no snack to reward myself ? It would have been horrible.”

He looked at you before he shook his head and placed his hands on his waist. A smile slowly growing on his face “You are by far the strangest person I've met so far.”

You pretended to be insulted “Says the guy who took a guy down by throwing his freaking water bottle at him.” you crossed your arms “Besides, everyone needs a little 'strange' in their lives. Life would be boring otherwise.”

His eyes landed on yours as he appeared to think about what you had just told him.

There was something in the way he looked at you that made you wonder if he found you strange as in too strange. Or strange as in interesting.

He crossed his arms in front of his chest as well and blinked a couple of times before he spoke “Good point.”

He kept his eyes on you and you were lightly swaying yourself to try and keep yourself warm as the air was starting to get colder.

He noticed your discomfort “Hey..(y/n)..-”

“Do you want to go and grab a coffee ?” the question fell from your lips faster “My treat, of course.”

His brow rose in suprise at your question, a lopsided smile making it's way on his face “Sure. I've got some time.”

“Great. There's a place close by that I know off.” your voice was cheery.

You two decided to walk the short distance instead of running. Chasing a thief was all the workout you needed for the day.

Please let me know if you want to be tagged when I update this series !!!!

#dex x reader #daredevil dex #benjamin poindexter #reader x poindexter #reader x pointdexter #reader x benjamin poindexter #reader x ben poindexter #daredevil fic #poindexter fic #ben poindexter #bullseye #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil bullseye

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nessaandoliver · 6 years

Text

title: grief characters: nessa, oliver words: abt 3k notes: this little exercise was basically just “how many spoilers can i stick in here without actually spoiling anything” lol. i had too much fun writing this. hope you enjoy <3

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He startles awake to see Nessa bent over him and he panics for a moment, afraid that something might be wrong, until he registers the look of quiet conspiracy on her face. She presses her finger to her lips, her gaze quickly darting to where Adam lies sleeping soundly, snoring lightly with his mouth wide open.

Oliver gives her a questioning look, but she nods to the door and then skirts around his sleeping mat and quietly leaves. He is tempted to lay back down, but she must have come to him for a reason. Still half-asleep, he pulls his worn jacket on over his sleep shirt and slips into his boots in the corner of the room. To err on the side of caution, he straps his gun at his hip and then sleepily makes his way towards the door.

He stifles a yawn and runs a hand through his hair, trying to fix the awkward tuffs sticking up in the back. Nessa waits outside the room, leaning against the wall with her hands tucked behind her. He raises an eyebrow as the door clicks shut behind him.

“What are you doing up this late?” he whispers.

The moonlight that slants through a nearby window catches on the curl of her hair, turning it birch white. “I couldn’t sleep,” she replies softly. “I...want to show you something.”

“Now?” he asks, propping his hands on his hips like a disgruntled mother of two.

“No, tomorrow afternoon,” she drawls with heavy sarcasm. “Yes, now! Come on.” She beckons him to follow with the twitch of her finger and, against his better judgment, he follows.

The old castle hallways are drafty, and even though it’s late summer, this high up in the mountains the nights are chilly. Oliver pockets his hands as he follows Nessa down spiraling staircases and stone corridors, feeling more and more awake with every step he takes.

“Reina would kill me if she knew I let you lure me out of the castle without proper protection,” he says, speaking softly even though they are alone. There may be ghosts in this castle, forgotten by time, and he doesn’t dare talk louder than he has to, out of fear he may disturb them. Dust makes the air feel thick.

Nessa replies, “What Reina doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” After a beat, she adds. “You make it sound as though I’ve left you no choice.” He hears her footsteps stop and he makes a soft sound of surprise when his chest bumps against her shoulder; he hadn’t realized how close he was walking behind her. “I’m not a princess anymore. I do not give orders.”

He regrets his poor word choice. “I know,” he says. “I almost just went back to bed.”

She starts forward again. “You’ll be glad you didn’t, I promise.”

They fall into a comfortable silence as they make their way toward the grand entry hall, where all the tall windows are glassless and gaping, allowing large chunks of moonlight to split across the marble floor. Oliver pauses when she reaches the front doors and pulls on the metal rung to swing it open.

“We’re leaving the castle?” he asks.

She flashes him a smile that is far too mischievous, and far too pretty. She is practically monotone, bleached by the moonlight, but it turns her into a dreamlike figure. He wonders briefly if he had even woken up at all.

“Think you can handle it?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. He draws closer to her with a smirk.

“Oh, I can handle it,” he assures her, straightening the lopsided collar of her jacket.

She peers up at him without restraint or hesitation, meeting his gaze head on, mirth hiding there at the corner of her mouth. He grins down at her, giving her a wink, his hands lingering around her throat. Oliver retracts his hands and pockets them, but he doesn’t step back and neither does she.

“There’s a little chapel on the castle grounds, down by the river,” she says in a voice quieter than before, warmer than before. “It’s really not so far from here. We’ll be fine.”

He tilts his head, a gesture that invites her leadership. “Show me.”

She gives him a slight smile and then turns and beckons him to follow as she begins her trek down the gentle slope from the castle doors. The shallow hill stretches for at least a mile, all the way down to the riverbank. He walks side by side with Nessa on the path, the two of them resting in a companionable silence, neither of them wanting to shatter the quiet moment.

He can’t remember the last time he was alone with her. Reina and Adam are always close by, both a blessing and a curse. He can’t do or say anything stupid to Nessa with an audience, but on the other hand, he can’t do or say anything to her at all. Reina’s obvious and disgruntled disapproval of him is no secret, either. It’s funny, how she trusts Adam - Nessa’s least favorite person - more than she trusts Oliver, especially since he’d never done anything to explicitly deserve her skeptical scrutiny.

Fixing his thoughts back on the moment, Oliver wonders how Nessa would react if he reached out and took her hand, and then banishes that thought entirely. This is no time for him to indulge in his own desires, and it would be cruel of him to act on them when she has had so much else to deal with lately.

He dares a quick glance at her from the corner of his eye. Her short hair bounces around her chin, her eyes half-lidded in thought as she watches her boots crunch against the dirt path. A part of him very nearly asks her what is on her mind, but another part reasons that if she wants him to know, she’ll share. Nessa has never been afforded very much privacy in her life, and the last thing he wants to do is pry.

About fifteen minutes later, she points to a tiny, building standing alone near the bank of the river. Nessa’s steps quicken. “Do you see it?”

“Yeah. It looks small.”

She nods and goes on ahead. He smiles as he watches her rush forward, content to linger behind for a moment, and take in the lovely, moon-bleached scenery around them. The chapel is as tiny as he thought it was going to be. The white stone nearly glows in the moonlight, crumbling pieces of the roof resting on the ground, overgrown with tiny purple flowers. The grass here reaches Nessa’s knees, swishing as a gentle breeze blows through the valley.

Nessa takes a deep breath as she pushes the front door of the building open. The hinges creak with dreaded protest, loud and wailing and resistant, before the opening is large enough for her and Oliver to both slip in. She disappears into the shadows first, not even looking back to make sure he would follow.

“Watch your head,” he hears her say from inside.

He ducks as he enters. “Were people back then always so short?” he asks.

“No, you’re just freakishly tall,” she replies.

Oliver opens his mouth to respond to that, but his quip dies on his tongue when his eyes find the large, stained glass window at the back of the chapel, casting jewel tones on the ground. The inside of the building itself is empty, the pews had either never existed or had been taken out a long, long time ago. A bed of grass covers the floor, softening Nessa’s footsteps as she goes deeper inside, the many windows wide enough to allow for bright slices of moonlight fall into the building.

“It’s beautiful,” he says, finding his gaze drawn back to the stained glass. How it had survived for so many years without shattering is a mystery. The castle has to be at least a couple hundred years old, and abandoned for half that time; it’s only safe to assume the chapel has been around for just as long.

“Isn’t it?” Nessa replies, her back to him, voice echoing off the empty walls.

A thought occurs to him. “How did you find this place? When did you find this place?”

She shrugs, the wave of her hair caught in the moonlight, still facing away from him. “I went for a walk last night.”

He frowns. Hadn’t she told him tonight that she couldn’t sleep either? That makes this two nights in a row. Oliver approaches her slowly, entering the the shadows before her and turning to face her. The darkness almost entirely obscures her expression, but she can probably see his clearly and that’s all that matters. His hands curl into fists inside his pockets.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly.

She is quiet for a moment. “Not yet,” she says, her voice fragile.

He blows out a breath in relief, glad that she isn’t going to try and hide this from him. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, even though he promised himself that he wouldn’t pry.

She gives a funny little laugh, almost self-depreciating. “Do I?” she wonders aloud, as if to herself. “When Reina asked, I said no.”

“That’s okay,” he assures her gently. “You don’t have to.”

Nessa takes a deep breath. “Reina did not have an easy life. Her mother died giving birth to her and her father was very sick, and blind. He couldn’t do anything for himself. At a young age, Reina was out selling newspapers and picking up other odd jobs just to take care of her father and herself. She never got to go to school. I think some neighbor took pity on her and helped her learn to read and write.

“Her father died when she was fifteen years old. She had to spend a year on the streets of some backwater town in the west, fending for herself, until she turned sixteen and enrolled in the military academy in Niaren. She excelled. Just before her eighteenth birthday, she was promoted to the royal guard. That’s when I met her.”

“We’ve been together ever since,” she continues. “Reina knows everything about me, and I have always trusted her with all of my secrets. I’ve shared everything with her. So why?”

The words hang in the air between them. Oliver feels as though she might be on the cusp of breaking. “Why what, Princess?”

When she speaks, her voice is eerily calm. “Why can’t I tell her how scared I am?” she asks quietly, as though speaking too loud could bring the whole church down on them. “I watch that horrible day play out every night in my head and I can’t stop it and I can’t tell her.” She sucks in another deep, deep breath.

Oliver knows. She doesn’t have to say that she blames herself for what happened at the palace. She doesn’t have to cry or scream to relay the pain she keeps where no one can see it. He knows because he has lived it, too. He lives it every day. His face crumples like a wad of paper at her words. He swallows a thick lump of emotion caught in his throat.

“The night my parents died...the night my sister was kidnapped… I just.” He stares hard at the space between their boots on the dark floor. “I just hid. My mom was screaming for me. I could hear my father yelling for someone to go get help. The nearest neighbors to our estate were only two miles down the road - not very far away at all.”

He wrinkles his nose, smelling phantom smoke. The nasty scars on his arm and shoulder throb at the memory. Shame wells up inside of him, but he forces the words out. It’s been a long time since he’s shared this with anyone and it hurts. “I didn’t do anything. I just sat in a closet with my hands over my ears until the ceiling fell on me. I woke up in a hospital two days later.” His voice is as soft and flickering as the single flame of a candlestick. “I understand, Princess. I blame myself, too.”

She is quiet for a long moment, and there is a slight hitch in her breath as she struggles to compose herself. Again, he wants to take her hands in his, to feel her skin on his and ground her to this spot. He doesn’t know if its more for her comfort or for his. Instead, he just stands there, hands tight in his pockets, memories searing across his thoughts like shooting stars.

When she speaks again, her voice has a tremor in it. “Does it get easier?”

He can’t lie to her. “No. But you get stronger. And you can promise yourself that you will do everything in your power to make sure it never happens again.” He blows out a puff of air that lifts the lock of his hair off his forehead for a moment. “Princess, listen. I personally think you’re crazy for believing even a fraction of this is your fault, because you can’t control the will and actions of another person. But I get it. Just… Just don’t let it consume you.”

He steps closer to her and he reaches out with both of his hands to take hers. Propriety be damned. “Promise me.”

Her hands, stiff at first, become pliant, her fingertips chilled against his warm skin. “I didn’t want to burden you with all of this when I brought you here, Mr. Kenton,” she says.

“It’s no burden,” he replies. “Seriously. You’ve never been a burden, Princess.”

She sighs, an unexpectedly harsh sound. “Can you stop calling me that? I’m not a princess anymore.”

Despite the situation, he chuckles at her frustrated tone. “You’ll always be a princess, whether you like it or not.”

Her hands tighten on his and she steps even closer. The toes of their boots might be touching. The corner of her open jacket brushes against his thumb and he can smell the rosewater of her hair drifting up to meet him. He acknowledges the way his heart does a quick sprint, and swallows.

“I am not your princess, do you understand?” she says softly. “I don’t want to be that person, to you.”

He feels his gaze grow sharper, more focused. Even in the darkness, he searches the shadows of her face for her expression and is disappointed when he can’t see a thing but the slightest slope of her nose.

“I wish you’d just call me Nessa,” she adds after a moment.

His breath catches. “I can’t,” he says, very nearly pained by the words. They come out of his mouth like cotton, dry and rough.

She lets her fingers play over his, sighing more softly this time, turning her head down to look at their hands. He is content to stand there and let her think, enjoying the simple feel of her chilly skin against his.

“I know,” she finally says, her thumb resting in the cradle of his right palm. After another moment passes, she adds, “I promise.”

He softens like butter, feeling half-drunk on the resolve in her voice, the way her fingers thread through his and then squeeze. “You won’t be alone,” he tells her, his voice far more intimate than he means for it to be.

“I know,” she murmurs again.

They stay like that, silent again. Oliver dreads the moment they have to let go. He doesn’t know when he will be this close to her again, so raw and vulnerable and open. He is sorry that she is enduring so much pain but he more than glad to share it with her. To make it so that her demons can rest with his.

Reluctantly, he pulls away when she yawns.

“We should probably get back,” he says. “It’s getting colder out.”

She hums in agreement. When they get back to the palace later, he makes sure to walk her to the room she shares with Reina, knowing that when they separate, everything will go back to the way it was before tonight. There will be distance between them in the daylight.

He catches her hand at the door. “Please remember what I told you,” he murmurs.

She nods, looking up at him with sleepy eyes. “I will.”

“And I’m here to talk whenever you need to,” he adds.

“I know.” She smiles just a bit but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Thank you for sharing your story with me. I know...I know it must have been hard. I’m so sorry.”

Oliver resists the urge to touch her face, to see if she will lean into his hand and linger there. Instead, he steps forward and brushes the hair back from her forehead to place a chaste kiss there at her hairline. She goes utterly still for a moment, but her hand tightens around his marginally before letting go. When she steps back, her expression is soft as a dream.

“Goodnight, Princess.”

She opens the door to her bedroom and mouths a timid little, “‘Night,” before slipping away. The door closes with a soft thump. Oliver holds his breath for a moment before letting out a big sigh, resting his forehead against the door. He stays there for a while, shelving away everything that had happened meticulously, afraid of forgetting even a single second.

The only thing that pulls him back to his own room is the promise of a decent cushion and the happy knowledge that he is far too tired for dreaming.

#nessa and oliver #nessa belle trevelyan #oliver kenton #writing #fic #hmmm im dying #i don't think i've ever made oliver talk abt his past quite like this #and the reina stuff hasn't been discussed by any characters either #so this wa s good

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darling-loki · 6 years

Text

IT’S NOT THE BEST BUT I’LL MAKE DO

prompt: “Can you wear that dress I like?” + from this contest prompts list

summary: loki is reluctant to go to one of Tony’s parties and avenger!reader tries to convince him to go

genre: fluff

warnings: nervous loki? idk

words: 1,601 (sorry that this is really long haha)

notes/tags: this is for @caplansteverogers’s 4k challenge, congrats!!!!! #capswritingfarm + i spent so much time finding those dresses on weheartit lol and i know i said i’d post it yesterday but i fell asleep :/ hope you enjoy this!!!

song: That Dress - The Pale White

“But do I have to go?”, Wanda whined.

You chuckled and shook your head.

“Yes, Wanda, you do”, you replied in a reassuring manner, “I know you’re still uncomfortable around people, but I’ll be there with you the whole time, don’t worry!”

Loki snickered from behind his ancient-looking book, sprawled out on the couch.

“What’re you smirking at?”, you snapped sarcastically at his annoyed expression. “You know you’re coming too, right?”

The trickster’s grin suddenly fell as he put down his reading material and propped himself up on his elbow to stare at you intently.

“And by whom, pray tell, was this decision made?”, he asked with a snarl.

You shrugged and revelled in his furious gaze.

“Tony", you explained nonchalantly. “He wanted to keep an eye on you.”

Wanda flinched when the god’s nostrils flared violently as he kept his cold eyes trained on you. Slowly backing away from Loki’s stare, the witch bid you goodnight and swiftly stepped out of the room.

Turning to face the trickster directly, you crossed your arms and returned his glare, determined not to let his oversized ego win.

As strange as it seemed, the god quickly gave up on trying to intimidate you, preferring to rise and stride across the room until he stood only a few feet away from you.

Placing a loose strand of hair behind your ear, Loki let a devious grin spread across his features and the butterflies in your stomach flitted around inside of you.

“And what exactly”, he hummed, observing you, “could possibly motivate me to attend these ridiculous festivities?”

“Th-there’s supposed to be f-free food", you answered with stumbling words and a wavering voice, “w-works for me most of the time...”

The trickster chuckled at the obvious effect he had on you, but didn't push things further.

“You could- um…”, he started off, slightly what, nervous, maybe? timid?

“You could… can- can you wear that dress I like?” he whispered against the skin at the nape of your neck, his cold breath a welcome distraction from the heat quickly creeping up your cheeks.

“A-and you’ll come if I wear that d-dress?”, you inquired, any semblance of breath leaving your body.

“Hm… maybe”, he smirked against your collarbone, “or you could also wear no dress at all, I would be perfectly fine with that as well.”

“Loki!”, you huffed, pushing him away and angrily walking out of the room, though his words lingered on your skin as well as on your mind.

As you made your way to your room, you thought about the trickster’s request. He’d seemed… anxious.

You weren’t even aware that he could feel something like that.

Although, the more you thought about it, about him, the more you began to understand his situation.

Always a loner, he’d obviously never connected very well with many people, and he was now exiled in a world he tried to take over and surrounded by people too stubborn to realize that he hadn’t been in control of his actions.

Maybe he just needed a sense of familiarity, of comfort. Thor had mentioned that you reminded him of his late mother, Frigga. Maybe that was what Loki was looking for in you, for someone to be kind to him like his mother once was.

Had anyone really bothered to ask him why he came to Earth, and not another planet?

Was it out of spite? thirst for power? love?

Your heart skipped a beat at the idea that Loki could ever hold feelings for someone.

Pushing your thoughts aside, you walked into your bedroom and headed straight for your closet to start preparing for the party. However, once you opened the door, your eyes wandered between the dresses hung in front of you.

Your hand inadvertently moved to a gorgeous crimson tulle gown, tracing the sweetheart neckline and off-shoulder straps. Thor had given it to you a few months ago for your birthday.

Actually, Wanda had forced Thor to give it to you, because the bilgesnipe fang earrings he’d gotten “wouldn’t appeal to your skin tone”.

“Thank you Wanda”, you chuckled, as you eyed the rich fabric.

You gripped the dress’ hanger tight, before casting a look behind your shoulder at the other end of your wardrobe.

Hidden behind pantsuits and overalls, the slick green fabric seemed to call out to you, almost blue in the shadows cast by the lighting of your room.

You let go of the red dress and reached out to the teal gown.

As your fingers gently tugged at the silky fabric, you remembered when you’d worn it for the first (and only) time.

Congratulations passed around the room as you surveyed the source of the attention.

The couple, namely a certain genius philanthropist and his future supersoldier husband, were greeting family, friends and press as a practice meal turned out to feel much too real.

You hadn’t been with the group for a long while, but you could feel that Steve and Tony were perfect for each other from the moment you’d met them.

You shivered as the crisp winter air hit your bare shoulders and turned away from the door, only to find a particular trickster standing only inches away from you.

“Shit! Loki!”, you cried with indignation, swatting at his chest, “don’t do that!”

The god hadn’t reacted to your outcry, rather concentrated on the dress you were wearing, his brow slightly furrowed and lips parted.

“When did you acquire this... garment?”

He seemed distant, concentrated on your gown, and took a step back to admire it in its entirety.

As his eyes followed the edges of your dress, the silt in your skirt, and the bare skin it exhibited, you felt your cheeks heating up.

Having someone examine your body so meticulously was an awkward experience, but you felt comfortable enough with Loki to know that he didn’t mean anything devious by it.

He’d always held women in high esteem, according to his brother. If you’d known Asgard was such a feminist place, you’d have moved there years ago.

Lost in thought, you hadn’t noticed him moving closer to you, until he stood merely a breath away.

“I like it”, he whispered into your ear, and you could feel the edges of his grin on the outside of your earlobe.

Upon his declaration, a bright green light shimmered over the god of mischief and he disappeared in front of your disbelieving eyes.

A soft smile on your lips, you pulled the teal gown off of its hanger and started getting ready for the party.

“Hmmm… I seem to recall you saying that you’d be there with me the whole time”, Wanda mentioned over her drink as you smiled sheepishly, turning away from the stunning trickster.

“Well, I- uh, see-”, you stammered, unable to form a proper explanation.

You reaction pulled a laugh from Wanda.

“It’s fine, just go to him already”, she waved you off, “It’s painful to look at your puppy-dog eyes.”

You smiled apologetically over your shoulder as you quickly crossed the room.

The trickster was sprawled on a seemingly uncomfortable couch, casting a bored gaze over the room, until his eyes met yours.

He got up from his sitting position just as a massive pillar of muscle blocked your path.

“(y/n)! What are you doing here?”, Thor asked with a beaming smile, which faded as soon as he eyed your clothing, “and wearing my brother’s colors?”

“I’m sorry, your brother’s what?”, you quickly interjected, baffled by the god’s question.

“His colors!”, he continued, “On Asgard, during courting, two partners would wear the same color of clothing to indicate their interest in each other! I thought you knew…”

“That I did not”, you answered, pensive.

As you felt an arm snake around your waist, you drew in a breath and turned on your heels, coming face to face with a smirking Loki.

“I see you wore the dress”, he noticed, his smile widening at your evident surprise.

“Yes, and apparently you didn’t think to mention that my wearing green could be a mark of courtship?”, you quipped sarcastically.

The god chuckled and looked into your eyes with a softness you hadn’t known he possessed.

“Ah yes, that detail seemed to have evaded me”, he knowingly replied with a wink.

You gasped as you noticed the sarcasm in his voice.

He had known!

“What does that mean?”, you voiced your concerns. “Were you making fun of me?”

“Never!”, he answered instantly, then faltered as he explained himself, “I wouldn’t mock you. I just- uh- I didn’t know how to-”

There it was again, that nervous side of him.

The trickster sighed as he ran a hand through his hair, making you start to blush.

You knew what he was asking, you weren’t stupid.

He seemed to really struggle getting the words out, and the sight of a stumbling god of mischief gave you enough courage to pull him down by the collar of his shirt and plant your lips on his in a soft, light kiss.

“Yes, Loki”, you chuckled against his mouth in a playful tone, “I’ll court you.”

Letting out a small laugh, he slid a hand up your back and pushed your body flush against his own, this time in a more passionate embrace.

You vaguely registered a few party goers whistling around you, but all you could feel was Loki tugging at your hair and gripping the fabric of the dress you couldn’t wait to get off of you.

“So”, you asked when you paused for breath, “I take it you like the dress?”

thank you for reading and, as always, feedback is greatly appreciated and encouraged ;)

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

@echolune i’m tagging you anyways mwahahaha

#lokixreader #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #fanfiction #xreader #mcuxreader #mcu x reader #mcu fanfic #fluff #loki fluff #capswritingfarm #darling-loki writes #my work #look at me the lil shit who forgot to tag the person instead of just writing the url

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theminiestofmins · 6 years

Text

Alex Shibutani/Yuzuru Hanyu---> How Do You Like Your Men?

Whipped.

Oh god, Alex realized with looming dread.

He was so whipped.

"Maia, Maia please."

His sister smiled at him, a perfect picture of gentility. He groaned, slumping on her shoulder. Some twenty feet away, Yuzuru Hanyu eased out of his Biellman smoother than a free-flowing river moving around immovable rock.

"I can't do it, Mai. How am I supposed to stay sane after seeing that? It's like the third one he's done in the past ten minutes. Teach me how to live, little sister, because I think he just killed me."

"Oh please." Maia scoffed, tone light as air as if this was some laughing matter.

She was a cruel, cruel woman.

"You're being a baby, Alex. Just tell him you want to tap that already."

He choked on his own spit.

"Not so loud!"

She fixed him with a look rife with irritation.

"There's literally no one even mildly within hearing distance of us, Alex. Chill."

Nevertheless, the older Shibutani threw nervous glances from his peripheral, laughing awkwardly to fill the silence. He was lucky gala practice had only just started and it was only him, his sister, and Yuzu on the ice- the latter being thankfully too immersed in the phantom music playing in his head to pay them any attention.

"He's Yuzuru freaking Hanyu, I can't just approach him about wanting to get down and dirty like I'm talking about the weather."

"He's also Yuzu, our friend. You remember that part don't you?"

"Yeah so?" He spluttered.

"So just stop being a noob about it and go tell him you like him. What's the worst thing he could do, reject you?"

"Um, how about tell everyone I'm horribly whipped for that ass and those legs and that face and that everything in general?" He muttered miserably.

Silence.

"Wow." Maia blinked owlishly.

"You're really whipped, aren't you?"

He groaned again and she shook her head as if to clear her thoughts.

"Okay well, first of all, we both know Yuzu's not that kind of person. He could never talk bad about anyone, especially a friend."

Alex didn't budge from where his head was buried into her shoulder. She sighed.

"And second: Alex, you're my big bro and I love and hate you, but mostly I love you. So believe me when I say, it's better to not leave things unsaid. Yuzu's cleverer than he looks, we all know that, and he's going to notice when you start avoiding him because you can't handle your feelings like every other grown adult."

She could feel him pouting into the material of her sweater.

"At least try a pick up line??" She offered hesitantly.

"If he doesn't react then laugh it off and say I dared you to do it or something. And if he does react, well then problem solved, go bang after practice."

Alex looked up at her then, a terribly fragile but still hopeful gleam in his eye.

She recognized that gleam. This would either be really good or really bad.

yuzuru honey pot hanyu excuse me what this is me switching between povs unsubtly lol

"Are you an ice skater because damn what a figure."

Yuzuru turned abruptly, the music in his head cutting out quicker than a quad. He registered tall, broad shoulders and a hesitant smirk.

Alex?

Wait, what did he just say?

Yuzuru ran the words back over and over in his head.

Realization dawned.

Oh.

Was he??

Going by the increasingly awkward manner with which the man opposite him was holding himself, he definitely was.

Huh.

He nearly laughed. About time.

The other man was visibly sweating at this point, Yuzuru's prolonged silence most likely not doing wonders for his self-confidence.

He spared a glance around the eldest Shibutani's shoulder, catching Maia's hopeful look and taking notice of her crossed fingers.

Briefly he considered feigning incomprehension but- well- where was the fun in that? He settled for thinly veiled sarcasm instead. Just enough to tease but not enough to bite. Alex was admittedly cute when he was flustered and Yuzu didn't see it often enough what with constant training on his part and the awkward air that sometimes hovered around them.

He always wondered what that was. Guess now he knew. It made things easier for him.

"12 world records, you?"

The other male froze, clearly unprepared for his response. Maybe he hadn't expected him to respond at all?

"Uhh"

Yuzu, in a rare moment of sympathy, giggled in that lovely way he knew made people weak.

(Oh how Alex was suffering.)

"I kid, I kid."

With the older male still frozen, Yuzu pouted.

"Alex not like joke?"

More stunned silence.

Internally, Yuzuru grinned a cat-like grin. Outwardly, he let his expression fall.

"Alex not like me?"

"Nononono." It all came out in a rush.

Internal-Yuzu preened.

"I like you very much, Yuzu." Alex groaned, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, looking like he wanted to die.

(Alex can confirm he did.)

"That's the problem." He mumbled under his breath.

Yuzu brought a hand to his chin, index finger poking lightly into a soft cheek in what he knew was an irresistible look.

"I like Alex very much, too. What is problem?"

As if it was somehow possible, the eldest Shibutani turned redder than a cherry.

"No, Yuzu- I mean like- I really, really like you. More than a friend should."

Yuzuru tilted his head slightly to the left. He didn't need a mirror to know how adorable he looked.

Hook, line, and sinker.

"I like Alex more than a friend too."

He had a feeling the other male still didn't get it so he elaborated.

"Meet me in dorm later?"

Alex's eyes widened but he managed to nod dumbly.

(Was this real?)

Yuzuru absolutely beamed, bouncing a little on his skates before skating forwards and leaning on his toe picks- just about tall enough to plant a short peck on red cheeks.

He smiled once more, infinitely bright and infinitely pleased, before skating away, turning three back crossovers into a spreadeagle into a Biellman.

Surprisingly, the sounds of Alex choking and coughing were more pleasing to listen to than the nameless melody stuck in his head.

From twenty feet away, Maia thanked the skating gods it was still too early for the camera crews to get here.

A/N: a little birdie asked for Yuzu x Alex and I couldn't resist bc I've been craving since even before gala practice and gala practice in no way abated the urges

if you didn't catch on the things in parenthesis were Alex's thoughts and yes I made Yuzu a tease I'm just trying to stay accurate to real life here

btw did you like my pun with the title and first line lol

#yuzuru hanyu #alex shibutani #awkward confessions #figure skating pick up lines #pyeongchang2018 #winter olympics 2018 #olympic gold medalist #yuzu is a whole tease #and alex is wholly whipped

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nonstop-creaty · 6 years

Text

Take A Hint

A/N : Lol I’m so late to this I should probably said Happy New Year instead, but anyway, Merry Christmas for @littleroundpumpkin, thank you for waiting, I hope you like your gift^^

On another note, I’m sorry if there’s any mistake, I double checked everything but considering how impatient I am, I probably miss a lot. Thank you for @boku-no-secret-santa for creating the event

I have too much fun writing it, I hope you like it just as much, I actually got carried away, there’s probably a second part for this. This is based on my own hc that Shouto, beneath that cool exterior, is actually a mess of social anxiety, awkwardness, and sarcasm. Well, the main Idea is “Shouto thought he is the cool senpai while Momo is the unassuming shoujo heroine, but in reality, it’s the other way around”.

Aizawa never consider himself to be very sensitive, despite being a teacher whose job is to care for, mentallly and physically, hormon-driven teenagers. But this one, this one student make his feelings so obvious even he start to notice.

Shouto Todoroki had been, and still is, staring at Yaoyorozu Momo for the past ten minutes. The kid probably thought he were being subtle, but there’s no subtlety in the way he ogle Yaoyorozu. Worse, Yaoyozu is conscious of his gaze, and every now and then she will glance back, their eyes will meet and both of them will go red, awkwardly tearing their gaze apart from each other. Give them five minutes of sitting normally before the whole thing repeat again. It’s annoying just to watch them.

Those two are damn lucky they get the back seat, hardly anyone notice their eyes smexing, otherwise they’re in for some heavy teasing from their classmates.

He toured the class, while supervising his student, when he reached Todoroki’s seat, he whispered, voice low so only Todorki can hear him, “It’s not nice to stare.”

Todoroki went slightly red, he barely missed the spark of fire in his left hand. When he turn his back on Todoroki, he stiffled down a laugh, while Yaoyorozu shifted her gaze between the two of them in puzzlement

When Saturday come, Shouto goes to visit his mother in the hospital. His father give him an odd look before he go, but he couldn’t care less. Unfortunately, Fuyumi couldn’t come with him, she had to take her students to a study tour.

Usually, he would focus his attention to his mother, but he can’t seem to concentrate. His mind still reeling from the incident with Aizawa-sensei yesterday.

As expected, his mom notice right away, “Shouto, are you alright?”

"It's nothing, Mom, really. I just got distratcted." He mumbled with a heavy sigh. He regret his words as soon as they left his mouth. He glance at his mother his guess was right, he had made her worried, his mother immediately straighten up, eyes suddenly alert and serious, "Is something bothering you?"

When he didn't answer, she further press on "Shouto, tell me."

Shouto glance up, hesitating for a bit, "Well, there's this girl in my class that--"

"A girl?" she shrieked, incredulous. The tension in the air dissolved as quickly as it came. He nodded, fully expecting her to guide him throught this unknown journey of understanding woman, but all hope left him when his mom (his last ace card) laugh at his face. It’s not the graceful kind of laugh either, it’s full blown snort.

"It's not that big of a deal--"

"It is!!" She insisted, "What is she like? I want to know."

Shouto sighed, a little bit overwhelmed by the questions. "She's kind..." He began, trying to recall Yaoyorozu in his mind, her encouraging words towards everyone, the way her eyes lit up with excitement, her smile, "Beautiful..."

He like her smile, and he was lucky that she was generous with them, even to him, and he can’t help but smile too even when he just remembering them.

He suddenly remember that he’s not alone in the room, and that he was smiling by himself, outwardly. He immediately cover his mouth with his hand, looking away while fake coughing awkwardly(which really doesn’t fool anyone).

When he look back at his mom, she give him a look that disturbingly resembles a lenny face. Her expression is so smug, and he actually feel kind of scared.

“You’re smitten.” She said, her tone suggest the statement is unarguable.

He really doesn’t know what to say to that, “Smitten??”

“Head-over-heels in love or into-her—” she waved her arms nonchalantly, “—or whatever you kids called it this day.”

There’s ten seconds silent, the words didn’t quite registered to his brain, but when they do, his heart make a jittery move, and the room’s temperature went up. He felt really silly now. The answer is right in front of his eyes and he can’t even figure it out by himself, but then again, he’s probably the most dense when it comes to feelings...and stuff that come up with said feelings.

This new discovery doesn’t sit well with him, “.....you’re right.”

She give him a ‘of-course-I-am-right’ kind of look. Shouto put his hands on the sides of his head and let out a long, suffering sigh, “What am I gonna do?”’

This is the first time that he feels romantic love for someone. The cogs in his brain start working faster than usual, popping question that really doesn’t help him, reminding him he’s not in the best place to start a relationship, with his hero training, his father, and everything else in between (Does he want to start a relationship?? (Actually, yes, he wants to start a relationship, give it a go, so to speak) (but right now??) (Does Yaoyorozu want to??) (maybe she’s not going to say yes, he’s getting ahead of himself (yeah but come on), he can’t even imagine what his father would say to him (not that he really care either way) and does he even have the time??

“It could hindrance my hero training.”

There’s an instant shift in the air. The atmosphere become tense, his mother made no comments to his statement, choosing silence, on her face is an unreadable expression that makes him nervous.

After a minute that feels like forever, her eyes trained to her son, “Shouto...” she took his hand, sliding her fingers between his, her lips curved upward “Is she a burden to you?”

No, of course not, she’s actually a great help. Always lending him a hand whenever he needed, giving extra lessons and pointers when there’s a particulary hard subjects, and a moral support to class 1-A in general.

“If we don’t earnestly cheer on each other, we’ll never be top heroes!”

His mother put her hands on both of his shoulder, gently shaking them. He trailed his eyes on her worried face. She dropped her hands after having a second thought, no doubt his mother thought that way of thinking had been his father influence, and her lack of mental capability to actually teach her kids what’s good for them, “I know I don’t give the best example to relationship,” her tone strained, voice low, he had to stomped down the urge to frown when he remember how his father treat her, “but relationship...while it need a lot of compromise and hard work, it’s supposed to be something fun.” She lowered her head for a moment, closing her eyes, as if forcing down regrets, when she regained back her composure, she added with a little smile, “You’re going to be spending time with the person you love afterall, what’s not fun about that?”

He nodded with a little smile, feeling a little lighter than when he first come to the room. He’s glad he talked to his mother, even if their discussion wander a little too far on the nasty lane.

“Thanks, Mom.”

Her mother gives him a thumbs up, “Go get her, Shouto!”

The nurse come knocking on the door, telling him that visiting hour is over, reluctantly he packed his things and bid goodbye. Before he go out, she said, “Bring her here next time.”

He answered over his shoulder, in a playful tone he rarely used, “Roger, ma’am.”

And the door closed behind him.

In Shouto’s humblest opinion, he is...not actually that bad with girls. Sure, he never had a relationship before, or even just pursuing someone, but there’s plenty of female that confess to him. Which is saying something, right? So how hard can pursuing Momo be?

That’s the prep talk he’s been saying to himself for the past five minutes. After mulling for some kind of plan to get closer to her, the only thing he can come up with is to ask her to study together, that’s casual enough, right? Also, low chance of getting rejected because Momo likes to study. But he can’t actually muster the courage to ask her. It’s honestly easier said than done.

Midoriya actually offered to buy him a book on the subject, but he refuses. No matter how convincing the adverstisement is, he would not buy Stallion Way To a Maiden Heart, and that’s final.

The last bell of today’s lesson signaling the countdown to his last chance. Momo already pack all her things and ready to go to the dorm, soon enough she will be joined by Jirou and Kaminari, when they reached dorm there’s going to be so many people, not to mention tomorrow is Saturday so it’s now or never.

He stand up, facing her desk, it took awhile before she notice his gaze on her. “Todorki-san?” She set down her bag, “Do you need something?”

Shouto take a deep breath, and shoved his shaking (and slowly freezing) right hand into his pocket, “Yes, um, would you—would you mind to study together with me tomorrow? There’s some subject I’d like to ask.”

The caught her off guard. She would never expected that The Todoroki Shouto would ask for her help, and she is more than happy for the opportunity to pay him back for all his help and kindness to her. But she immediately snap out of her thought, her hand went up to clutch the front of her uniform, he gripped her desk , restraining himself to pull squeeze her tight because she is hella adorable (in his most objective opinion).

Momo’s face break into a dazzling smile, “Of course!! I would love to help!!”

Seeing her excitement, he can’t help but smile back, mentally dancing around in victory because yesss he did it, “We should do it in a cafe or something.” He said, keeping his tone as breezy as possible, and jump in eagerness to convey how he actually feels.

Momo nodded, and he politely thank her. After the conversation finished, he tried to walk normally to the dorm, but as soon as he out of the class, he is skipping happily like a kid getting an early christmast present, with barely contained smile on his face.

Shouto arrived almost a half-hour early from the promised time. The cafe is well-lit and a perfect place to study, as the customers around him all sipping coffee quietly while doing their work. He already order a drink and start to pour over his book (he really have a subject to ask Momo). He is blissfully waiting for her arrival when he feel his shoulder is tapped by someone.

He turn his head, already smiling, to greed Momo, “Yaoyorozu, you’re he—“

His smiled disappeared when his gaze met a bright yellow hair and a pair of amber eyes. Huh...Kaminari??

“Todoroki-kun, you’re here early.”

The boy took a seat across him, then waved a waitress to come, much to Shouto’s dismay. Kaminari ignored Shouto’s questioning gaze.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, which come more harsly than he intended to. Luckily, Kaminari didn’t took offense at his rude demenaour.

“The same as you, I’m here to study with Yaomomo.”

“What? But we—“

“Todoroki-san!” He heard his name called, this time by a right voice, Yaoyorozu is standing at the cafe front door, smiling and waving at him.......along with Jirou and Mina.

He can only stare, dumbstruck, as the three of them walked over to the table. Jirou make a comment about how they should get the bigger table (the table Shouto pick is only for two) and so the group move to the table beside them.

Feeling a little lost, he quickly secure his place beside Momo, a little impatient to inquire her about the sudden guests that intruded their study ‘date’. Before Shouto could say anything, Momo break the silence, “Sorry, Todoroki-san, I bought these three along before telling you, they said they need help and I can’t refuse.” She give a small bow, “Beside studying is more fun together.”

His annoyance must apparent, because she quickly added in a tentative voice, ”You’re not mad, aren’t you?”

Mad is too strong of a word, more like annoyed, and ‘how-come-you-invite-other-people-this-is-a-date’ kind of feeling. But, evidently, Momo didn’t think this is a date. Even though the message had been clear. Or maybe it’s not as clear as it thought it was. Is it the way he said it? Or maybe his wording that gives impression that this is anything but a date.

Momo is looking at him with such a concerned expression until he feels guilty, he mentally clear off his negative feelings and reassure her with, “No, It’s fine.”

Her shoulder visibly relaxed, she turn to face the other three, telling them which chapter to open while he mulled over his actions and wonder just where did he messed up?

As promised, Momo teach him the subject he’s been having trouble with, and even give him insight in the upcoming material. It’s quite something how Momo able to divide her time perfectly for her four students. When the sky began to darken, they all decided to wrap this up and continue at some other time.

He purposely waited until they all said their goodbyes to Momo and decided to walk go home to their own house, as today is Saturday, and come back Monday morning for school. Which include him and Momo, too. He could still save the plan, there’s still a chance.

“Yaoyorozu,” He called, she turn her head over her shoulder, “Let’s go home together.”

Momo look falttered for a second, then her expressions turned awkward, she rub the back of her neck while looking anywhere but him, “Uh, I’m sorry, Todoroki-san, but my driver is picking me up.”

Just then, a car (a very fancy car that he doesn’t even know the brand) stopped right in front of them, The driver come out to open the door for Momo.

“Have a safe trip home, Todoroki-san.”

There’s goes his only hope. He manage to let out a reply, “Yeah, see you Monday.”

The car door slammed shut, ten seconds later, the car roared, taking Momo away.

On Monday morning, Jirou stop him before he even reach class.

“We ruined your date plan, huh?”

“—Ruined is an understatement—”

“—Well how am I supposed to know it’s a date? Yaomomo invited us—“

Shouto narrowed his eyes and give her a hard glare, that cut her abruptly. Jirou only fazed for a moment, her smile is back on her face, as instant as flipping a light switch.

“Clearly you suck at this.” She said, with a look clearly says she is superior than him on the subject, “Don’t worry, I’ll guide you.”

Even though she said that with confidence, it really doesn’t give him any reassurance. But he has no one to turn to, Midoriya’s last plan is to do a Shoujo Wall Slam to Momo, which he (stupidly) followed. He only got to corner her in the wall part before Momo kick him in the shin because she thinks he was testing her ability. It stopped being funny when a big, blue bruise formed on his skin. The only good thing that come out of it is Momo offered to fix his wounds, so he got to spend half an hour with her hands all over him. Otherwise, it’s a disaster.

Jirou pulled him to a less crowded corner, she looked around to make sure that they’re alone in the hallway, “Here’s the plan, you know how dense Yaomomo is, hell, she invited other people to her date. Now, what we have to do is give her a big romance move that can’t be interpreted as platonic, and by big, I mean B-I-G.”

“That logic sounds flawed.”

Jirou rolled her eyes. She make a big show of slumping her bag over her shoulder, dramatically turn around and said, , “Have fun asking Yaomomo out on your own.”

“—Hey, Jirou, wait—“

She stopped then, abrutply wheeled her body to face him, the look on her face might suggest that someone has given her a million dollar cash, and he suddenly regret his actions.

She give him a half-grin, “You’re in good hands.”

“Alright, first of all, we have to do a quick damage-control.” She begin to explain, in a tone that make Shouto think if she had a moustache, she will twirl it. Jirou start to chastised him.

“It doesn’t help how derp you are around her--” Gee, thanks, as if he hadn’t noticed, “--So just leave it to me.”

Somehow he get a bad feeling from this.

When night time come, Shouto had finish getting ready for bed, he had just closed his eyes when the his phone ring, jerking him awake. He half-expected it to be his sister calling (because he has no other friends) and mildly surprised when it turns out to be Jirou.

He wondered what she wants. Reluctantly, he answer it, “What?”

“Hey, Todoroki...”

“I was just going to bed.” He curtly said, the clock reads 8.30 P.M, “It already past my bed time.” and frankly, the more sleepy he is, the more grumpy he becomes.

There’s a sneer coming from the other line, “It’s not even nine yet. What are you, a baby?”

He ignored her.

“Don’t you wanna hear our plan? We spent a long time to come out with it.” The voice on the other side answers, which is not Jirou’s voice, but still familiar.

“.....Hagakure?”

“Bingo!”

Shouto resist the urge to rub his head that had started to ache (Jirou’s fault entirely), suddenly the picture of Jirou and Hagakure in the girls dorm, having a sleepover and discussing his love life (or lack of) pop up in his mind, the image both disturb and embarrass him.

He can’t keep the sarcasm out of his voice, “How nice, include more people in this, will you?”

Jirou chime in, “ You have to get permission from the whole squad if you want to ask Yaomomo out.”

He can’t see them but he had a feeling Hagakure is solemnly nodding to Jirou’s statement, “Sorry man, we don’t make the rules.”

She’s clearly having too much fun at this.

Hagakure added, “Yeah, it’s a solidarity thing.”

Which is something that he doesn’t really want to know. Sadly, it makes no difference to Hagakure whether he is interested or not. He had to cut her mid-rant otherwise it’s dawn before you know it, “Be quick, I want to sleep.”

Ashido’s voice suddenly said, “Don’t worry, we already summarized the plan!”

He almost thought that he is imagining things because how sleepy he is, but there’s no mistaking it, that was Ashido voice. He doesn’t even know she’s there. Just how many people involved in this?

He slam the phone when Uraraka joined the conversation.

“Why don’t you just tell everyone?” Shouto bit out. He doesn’t get enough sleep last night after that horrid phone call, which is enough to make him ten times more grumpy. Jirou is sitting in Momo’s desk (who hasn’t come to class yet), twirling her earphone jack. It’s still twenty minutes before the first bell ring, and about five minutes before Momo arrived.

Jirou shrugged nonchalantly, “I don’t have to, everyone already knows.”

“What?”

She shrugged again, clearly not very interested in his dismay. Shouto has to resist the urge to kick her, “You hear me, everyone already knows. You kinda make it obvious.”

As if to prove her points, Bakugou snickered while looking directly at Shouto, then turn away, while Kaminari who is sitting beside him, give Shouto a pity stare (the kind you give someone when you know they’ll messed up).

Shouto only respond for the humiliation he felt is to plant his face on the table, too drowned in his embarrassement to even care. It’s nice to know that his so-called friends pop in sometimes to laugh at him. Jirou went on about “plans” (he’s not really listening), but he can’t take this much annoyance so early in the morning. Shouto sends Midoriya, who is looking at their way when getting his book from his bag, a distress signal to help him get away from Jirou (by squinting several times at him) but Midoriya doesn’t get it, he just waved at Shouto and then turn back to his book. Shouto wished his quirk is telephaty instead.

Just then, the door slides open, revealing Momo Yaoyorozu herself. She looks a bit startled finding Jirou on her desk, much more talking to Shouto, but quickly regained her grace. She greets them while setting her bag down on her desk, Jirou took that as her cue to leave, but not before giving Shouto a ridiculous comedy wink right in front of Momo. What is she thinking? If she had been a spy, she would be dead by now.

Momo just look puzzled, but too polite to ask intruding question. He had to pretend he didn’t see anything, he do’t want her to think he is on to something with Jirou. While Jirou might say that is really the case, he says otherwise. The whole ‘planning’ thing is mostly her doing her own crazy and forcibly throwing him to the mix.

Shouto wonder what Jirou is up to. She has been mentioning the word ‘plan’ several times. He just glad that they didn’t take Hagakure suggestion to change the word ‘plan’ to ‘lamp’ and ‘Yaomomo’ to ‘Mochi’, the idea is to use a code word so Momo wouldn’t get suspicious, but if they start to talk about lamp and Mochi at the same sentence, it actually make it even more suspicious and very little sense.

Shouto glanced at Momo, who is surprisingly also looking at him with stone-faced expression, as their gaze met, Shouto went red, he can feel a slight increase of temperature because of his quirk, and quickly diverted his gaze from her.

In his mind, he can hear Aizawa-sensei’s sneer.

He found out what is exactly Jirou’s plan at night. After school, most of 1-A gathered in the common floor, doing various activities or simply just chatting.

Shouto has been chillin’ with Midoriya and Iida on the couch (Midoriya is showing them his All Might card collection), but he is interrupted when Shouto’s phone ring.

Momo’s name flashed on his screen. It caught him off guard, she never called unless it was important, could it be Jirou? He stand up a little too fast (almost knocking Midoriya’s collection) and went away from prying ears before answering it.

“Hello?”

“Todoroki-san?” He was glad to hear Momo’s voice throught the receiver, “Jirou-san said you want to meet me...?” the whole statement is a question, she sound terribly confused and unsure.

He froze, quite literally, as speckled of ice formed at his feat and hands. When he spoke, his voice low and horrified, “...what?”

“I’ve been here for five minutes and—“

“Wait there.” He cut her, ending the call. He run to her room in full speed, making him receive odd looks both from Midoriya and Iida, but he doesn’t want to make her wait. When he reached the fifth floor, there’s no one the hallaway. He knocked on her door but no answers. He call her, Momo’s picked up at the first ring, “Yaoyorozu, where are you? I’m in front of your room.”

“Huh? I’m in front of your room.”

Bloody hell.

The fiasco had ended peacefully, he had went up to Momo in front of his room. But he had absolutely no idea what to say to her, so he said the whole thing is Jirou’s prank (which is not far from the truth).

She looks unimpressed, “That girl—Ah, I’m sorry Todoroki-san, for involving you in this.” She bowed low.

He urged her to straighten up , “I don’t blame you in the first place.”

She become quiet, staring at him, her body language suggested that she want to say something to him. She open her mouth slightly, closed it again, and then muttered ,“Todoroki-san, you... seems really close with Jirou-san.”

He highly doubt that. If wanting to kill her and hide her body on the fridge can be categorized as ‘close’ then yes, they are.

“Yeah, kinda.” He answered vaguely, eager to keep his crime-movie-worth thought to himself. Even though he want to tattle Jirou to Momo really badly.

Momo bow her head, looking down on the floor, her eyes somber. He doesn’t know what caused the sudden change in her demeanour, so offers to walk her to her room, guessing (incorrectly) that she simply tired. He manage to bit her goodnight in natural sort of way before going back to his room to sleep, the whole thing is tiring him out, he could wait until tomorrow to kick Jirou.

Jirou is unregretful when he confront her, “I can’t believe you blew it up.” She said, blaming him, which tickled him off greatly, Excuse you, shouldn’t I be the one who do the blaming here?

“What do you expect me to do?” he asked, and winced when his voice sound desperate.

“Confess to her, duh.”

He really want to kick her now. He could barely order an extra fries on fast food restaurant and she thought he could confess without mental preparing first? This girl clearly not right in the head.

“You should have informed me first.” He demanded, Jirou is unapologetic, “I already tell Mina to tell you, I guess the info got lost in the proccess.”

“That’s what you got for including more people in it.”

Jirou ignore him and went on, “Even thought I have prepared the perfect timing for you.”

Which part of the plan is perfect remains a mystery to him. He could point out ten flaws at the top of his head, and that’s not even half of it. But he’s too depressed to be bothered and decided to drop the conversation and go back to class.

He spend the most part of the morning fuming on his chair, He write his notes with a little too much force than necessary. Momo (bless her soul) notice his misery and rage, she tried to question it on him. He doesn’t want to worry her so he lied and said he’s fine.

Eventually, when lunch time come, Shouto decided to get back at Jirou a little bit. He’s not low enough to really kick her (but she’s really testing his limit) but he’s petty enough to hide her pencil case. There’s two AC at the back of the class, which high enough that someone as short as Jirou can’t see what’s on top of it.

Unfortunately, Momo caught him mid-act when he’s climbing the chair to reach the AC, apparently she left something in the class, he doesn’t have the time to hide the pencil case, so he just put it behind his back, but it was futile, as the angle he stands leave no room for secrets. She stared at the pencil case in his hand and then back at him.

“Isn’t that Jirou’s?”

He glanceed at the pencil case nervously. The weight of the case suddenly feels very heavy in his hand.

“Uh...yes.” he admitted. Shamefully bowed his head, he feels like he was ten years old again after his sister caught him spitting in Endeavour’s drink.

“You’re hiding it.” She stated, matter-of-factly. He start to feel really small under her gaze, “...yes.”

Shouto hop down from the chair and set down the pencil case on his desk, stealing a glance at Momo. He’s surprised to find her looking at him with mildly amused expression, “Is it to get back at her for yesterday?”

He nodded. She crossed her arms, smiling, “Then, I suggest you hide it in the cupboard,” she pointed at the class wood cupboard beside the teacher desk, “She never open it. Full of dust, she said.”

A huge sigh of relief come out of him. He took her advice, giving her an excited grin, and walk to the front. After the pencil case safely tucked in between books, Shouto closed the cupboard door.

Momo approached him, with slow and sure step, she clasp her hands behind her back. “Say, I’ve been wondering about this...”

Shouto’s hand went rigid, the way she said it makes a heavy drop on his stomach, similiar if anybody approached him with ‘I-need-to-speak-to-you’ phrase.

“Since when you and Jirou-san are so close, Todoroki-san?”

He relaxed instantly, it’s just that. “Hard to say,” although he can pinpoint exactly when, it’s the time she corner him in the hallway the day after Momo invited other people to their study ‘date’.

Momo hummed, she trained her eyes on him, “I always want to get close to you, Todoroki-san.”

He doesn’t know whether she mean it figuratively or literally, as she stand quite close to him, “What do you mean? We’re close now.”

Momo thought he was kidding, but she let out an exasperated sigh after seeing his unironic face, and he suddenly feel stupid, is it something that he said?

She is unnervilingly calm and collected, and she took another step closer to him, “I mean I want to get to know you better.”

His heart skipped a beat. He wants to know her better too, considering he is (as his mother put it) smitten with her. He open his mouth to answer her, but she cut him, saying words that made him forget to breathe.

“Todoroki-san, will you go out with me?”

It took him a full minute to decipher her words. Did she just....? That can’t be. No way. He must heard things wrong. But reality says otherwise, and he find himself gaped, lost for words. There’s a mad buble of laughter in his throat and he had to physically restrain himself to laugh out loud. Both from happiness and irony. Because Momo liked him, and she confess to him first (with much more grace than he could ever manage) after he spend so much time trying to do the exact same thing, Jirou would laugh at him, that’s for sure. And here he thought that he’s not all that bad with women.

It’s like a giant cosmic debt. The universe must be paying him off for making him so miserable all his life. He realized he’s been gaping like a fish for a while after Momo called his name. He snapped his eyes back to her, trying to keep his cool but to no avail, “Yes, of course, I would be happy to date you.” The words come out strained with untamed glee, but he couldn’t care less.

She take his right hand in hers, smiling in content, and muttered a soft “I’m glad.”

The magic moment broke when the door slide open abruptly, both of them jumped in surprise, quickly letting go of each other, but the intruder already caught sight of their little hand holding.

Jirou stood at the door, she is transfixed for a moment, glancing at Momo and then at him, her eyes staring at the space where his and Momo’s hand connected just a moment ago. Finally, she put two plus two and let out a freaking wolf whistle.

She looked pointedly at Shouto, “Nice to see you’re finally have the guts to confess.”

Shouto freeze, while his newly official girlfriend look shocked, she stare at Jirou, then at him and ask, “What does that mean??”

Shouto retreat back from them. Hiding her pencil case is definitely not enough, he probably has to kick her now.

#bokunosecretsanta #bnha #todomomo #Yaoyorozu Momo #todoroki shouto #jirou kyoka #happy new year everyone #nc-todomomo #nc-bnha

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lackataesical · 7 years

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work in progress tag

no one actually tagged me in this but i saw that @spcywolf did it and said that anyone could say she tagged them so i’m gonna take this as an opportunity to let you all know that i’m not dead and that i’m actual doing stuff. (i’m lying though. after MX i may actually be dead) aNYWHO

one. sleepover // yoon bora

one-shot high school!au, best friends!au ~1600 words maybe 50% done??? i’m never sure

“You’re the best at this, you know. I’m glad I got you to help me out.” she hums, leaning her head against your shoulder as you chuckle.

“I just said it was nice.”

“Yeah, but you also would have told me if it wasn’t. Or if the color made me look fat, or if it clashed with my hair. You’re so brutally honest sometimes it’s kind of funny. At least I can always, always, always count on you to tell me how you actually feel.”

You feel like something gets lodged in the back of your throat, and you swallow around it. “Yeah. Yeah, you can just count on me.”

two. currently unnamed lol // shin hoseok

one-shot demon!au, witch!au ~1700 words like 10% done i’m awful

Wonho lets out a delighted laugh, and you would’ve glared at him if you weren’t too busy hiding your burning face in the pillow.

“This isn’t funny.” you mumble, and you can just feel Wonho roll his eyes at you.

“Aw, come on. Can’t you wave a wand, abracadabra it, and - BAM - bed frame good as new?”

“That’s not how magic works.” you whine, burying yourself further into the sheets as if you could somehow hide from Wonho’s burning stares and infuriating laugh.

“Well then, sweetheart, look like there’s a trip to Ikea in your future.” he teases, and you feel his hand crawl up the expanse of your back before you reach over to try and slap it away.

“I hate you so much.”

three. play the part // park jinyoung

one-shot college!au ~1000 words 25% done at best

You see who he points out and groan. Jun gives you a small grin and smacks Minghao’s shoulder as he calls out “Hooker!”. Jun waggles his eyebrow playfully, while Minghao looks torn between walking away and smacking his best friend upside the head.

You sigh as you throw your head back, wondering who you murdered in your past life to deserve this.

Jinyoung smiles a tight-lipped smile as the males in the crowd hoot and whistle. He looks calm, but you can see the annoyance coursing just under his skin.

“Thank you for that, Junhui. So, Y/N here will be a barista, and I will be a prostitute.” he said, smirking through the disappointed yells and the small giggles scattered through the audience.

“What were you expecting? Not like I’d break out my fishnets for an improv piece.” you quip, chuckling.

“I would’ve if you had told me ahead of time.” Jinyoung responds, grinning at the uproar of cheers from the females (and quite a few males) in the audience. He turns to you, shrugging with a smug smile on his face. Your eyes narrow, and you straighten your shoulders. If this boy wants to compete for the crowd's approval...

Well, you never were one to deny a challenge.

four. what i’m looking for // mark tuan

one-shot mall!au i guess ~600 words 10% done

You strolled into the little coffee shop at the corner of the food court, the little bell at the door announcing your arrival. A voice calls out a standardize greeting and you make you way towards the counter as slowly as possible.

Of course you had to opt out of doing most of the other tasks. Of course you’re best friend knew you would, convincing your other teammates that you had to pick up for your slack. Of course Chungha would ask you to make up for the points she lost for the team. Of course you couldn’t say no to Chungha little, pouty face.

You gnaw on the skin of your bottom lip, willing the line in front of you to go at a snail’s pace. For every single machine to break all at once. For the person at the front to make an order large enough for an army. Anything to make sure you did not get up there before the game ended.

You slide your phone out your pocket and pull the list up, praying that the final bonus objective that you had been assigned to had somehow changed in the short moments it had taken you to walk here.

Bring the cute worker from Starbucks. We all know the one ;)

Alas, it had not.

five. bad reputation // it’s a secret

multi-chapter fic that’s part of a series with the next two on this list. i’ll announce when it’s done just so i don’t rip my hair out but i’m excites bad girl!au ~1000 words so not close to done you have no idea.

“Hang on tight.” you hear her say.

You form a loose circle around her waist with your arms, and she sighs. There’s a retort on your tongue, but it’s cut off by the man on the floor unsteadily rising to his feet. Without giving him a chance to straighten out, she’s speeding down the alleyway.

Your arms tighten around her waist as you let out a squeal. You can’t see her face but you can just tell that she’s giggling at you from underneath that helmet of hers. Your skirt fans out behind you, and you’re silently glad that you’re moving fast enough that no one can see just how much skin is left exposed.

With the wind whipping in your face, you have no choice but to bury your face into the crook of her neck. You let out a little sigh as your cheek hits the warmth of her skin, and unconsciously your hand sneaks it’s way into her jacket and your thumb slides just under the bottom of her shirt, seeking warmth. You absolutely do not take any notice to the heat she’s radiating, or how soft her skin is where your fingers meet it.

Absolutely not.

six. you’re just like an angel // secret idol

again, multi-chapter male reader :) ~1200 words i’m a terrible gauge so i’m just gonna say 2% done

You sigh loudly. The first time goes completely unacknowledged. The second time earns you a raised brow. It’s not until the third time that you do it does he actually turn to look at you.

“Yes, your highness?” he quips, sarcasm dripping from his voice. You ignore how fond it sounds.

“I’m bored.” you say, wiggling your toes. His eyes narrow into a glare as your toes dig into his thigh. He gently smacks you ankle with the hand he had resting on your leg, and you yelp, drawing your feet out from under him. He smirks, but it quickly morphs into a frown when you set your feet in his lap, staring at him in defiance

seven. three’s a crowd // LMAO

multi-chapter childhood best friends!au ~1000 words 3% done cause it’s shorter than the last one lol

You honestly didn’t mean to knock the castle over.

You just wanted to get the shovel that the boy had left next to it, and next thing you know, his little masterpiece crumbles into a pathetic looking pile. That being said, you have absolutely no idea what to do with the said owner of the castle, who is staring at you like you just kicked his puppy.

“I don’t know why you’re looking at me like that. It’s not like I meant to knock it.” you state matter-of-factly, little arms crossed in front of your chest. “Besides, it’s just a stupid sand castl-”

You let out a yelp as suddenly your pigtail, the one that your mommy made for you this morning, is yanked hard enough to make you fall on your butt. Your scalp stings and your eyes water with tears as you glare at the new boy. The new boy stands in front of the first one, hands on his hips and a glare of his own to match yours.

eight. extra secret thing that i’m working on for someone that i’m giving no hints to except for this excerpt because the title and who it’s for will also give it away

one-shot (cautiously) nope it really may not get finished and it it’s not than i’m just never saying what it was but if it does, then you might know where it’s from

The sound of heels on cobblestone echo through the halls. Your palms are so sweaty it’s a wonder it hasn’t slipped right out from his yet.

“This way.” he says, pulling you into an empty guest room and softly closing the door behind you.

“We - we can’t get caught. You’re a guard and this is -”

You’re caught off by the firm hand on your waist. By his weight against yours, pressing you to the wall. By the lips that find your jaw. He drags his mouth up your neck to rest at your ear and whisper in voice so wrought with emotion that it sends a shiver down your spine.

“Do you want this?” he asks. Your mind struggles to register a single word that is coming out of his mouth, but you manage to nod. You feel him smirk against your skin and you let out a shaky sigh,

“Then let’s live a little, princess.”

#listen i travel a lot #and i'm particularly fond of writing on planes but terrified of people reading over my shoulder #hence the many wips #but if you can guess any of the secret idols than kudos to yo #;it'sa me!!#tag #i feel like no one ever expects people to just tag themselves when they say so but here i am lmao #wip

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idealisticrealism · 7 years

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Blindspot 2x15 recap

(aka the one where the team does their own version of WifeSwap and also takes down a trafficking ring)

So I don't know if anyone is still interested in these (other than the couple of anons who have been gently reminding me about getting this done haha) but in honour of the new ep this week, here's my recap of last ep aka ~The Dream Team Reshuffle~

Okay so are these Kurt/Roman sparring sessions a spectator sport?? Because if so, seriously sign me up right now for a lifetime membership haha. Goddamn. And I just-- I mean, the level of trust here? The kindness? Weller understands that Roman needs both freedom and an outlet, so he gives him both, under the guise of 'triggering memories' for information on Sandstorm. Sure, that's the official explanation, but lbr he really just did it because he knows how he would feel being in Roman's shoes. And plus, what better way to get to know the brother of the woman he's in love with? ~Brother-in-law bonding time~ Aaww yeaahhh. I also love that he actually pins Roman-- Roman may be a trained warrior, but Weller's no slouch either. Just because he wears a suit most of the time doesn't erase the fact that he's literally one of the best agents the FBI has. And then ughhh Jane comes in just as he's got Roman pinned and I love that the vibe is instantly like "uh-oh, busted" haha. I love the shock in Jane’s voice though and the way she says 'Kurt'-- tbh I think it's both a "Kurt don't hurt him" and "Kurt is everything okay" because in that split second she doesn't know if this fight is just sparring or has turned real and there's just a flicker of panic where she doesn't know what to do and then Roman is all "we're fine" (aka ‘chill sis we're just engaging in manly bonding’) and she just stares, even more shocked, as Weller grins and pulls Roman to his feet. Like literally this scene has been going for like 30 seconds and I just love everything it has achieved-- Roman is proving to Weller that he can be trusted, bc he didn't try to hurt him or escape while they were sparring, Weller is proving to Roman that he understands and respects his needs and that they can be allies despite coming from opposing sides, and Weller's proving to Jane that he's good hubby material :P and obviously that he cares enough about her to go out of his way for the people she loves. Ugh. And when she suggests Roman going out into the field, he's so gentle and apologetic about why they can't allow that. And then he leaves her to take Roman back to the cell, showing trust in them both. Ugh. What a genius scene, to be so packed with meaning in such a short space of time. I also appreciate Roman trying to convince Jane to tell Weller the truth about Emma bc it’s the right thing to do (seriously woman he’s right, hurry up with that! I'm so annoyed about the lack of learning from past mistakes that's happening here like seriously this can only go badly ugh)

Wait Nas' source-phone is ringing?? Good thing she remembered the code phrase after all these months haha. Also considering that I'm still on the 'Remi was the source' bandwagon, I feel like this meet-up is a trap...

Naw Jeller walking to the lab together and then WAIT WHAT HE ASKED ABOUT THE DATE. Omg. The awkwardness level just shot through the roof (and probably continued up several floors) and Jane is staring at him bc lbr the ~thing~ between them is like the elephant in the room that goes carefully ignored and then suddenly he's asking about something that's directly elephant-adjacent and it's like is this really happening? and then she's still speechless and he assures her she doesn't have to talk about it with him (while looking like he's practically about to cry jesus christ what are you two doing to me) and then he tells her that her whole date thing got him ~thinking~ and her eyes go wide and she stops breathing because is he about to acknowledge the elephant and lbr she's so stunned at even the possibility that this could be happening but she's SO READY for it and ugh I bet her heart is racing rn and ugh ours certainly are because we're all like YES TELL HER ADMIT YOUR LOVE KISS HER KIIISSSSS HEERRRRRRR, and then--- "we need to be careful. Sandstorm is everywhee" and oh man. All that buildup just goes poof! and disappears. Goddammit, Weller, you stupid boy. Couldn't you see how loudly her eyes were screaming 'kiss me'?? Or maybe you could, and that's why you look so sad, because you believe that you two can/should never be together again. But more likely he just assumed that her stunned look was her being uncomfortable about discussing her love life with him. Ugh you two are IDIOTS. Idiots, I tell you. But lbr I do love the fact that Weller is telling her to stay away from Oliver to protect her, which I'm sure is entirely genuine-- or at least, he's convinced himself of that. I wonder if he's aware that he also just wants her far far away from any other man. And then omg Nas appears, interrupting their private moment (I love the look they exhange like they're not quite ready to let go of their connection just yet) and lol I just love that this single moment is like a total metaphor for Nas' involvement in this show, her very presence interrupting their progress back towards one another. Ugh. But anyway sidenote, it looks like when they head to the lab they actually all head back in the direction they had just come from in the first place?? Unless I got all turned around while I was focusing too closely on Jeller's intense eye contact lol, I mean that’s certainly a possibility

Anyhow they head into the lab and there's a conspicuous absence-- Reade is nowhere to be seen, which is no surprise to us, because that dude has become flakier than old paint, but it is to Weller, who has been a little too distracted in the recent weeks to have the team totally in grip like he used to. And luckily for Reade, he has Zapata to cover for him, who gives a hurried excuse of train delays. Ah, transport troubles. An oldie but a goodie. Patterson unwittingly helps by just getting straight down to business, directing all their attention to a photo of Jane's hip and thigh, meaning that they all have a clear view of the curve of her butt as well. I wonder if Jane is so used to this team seeing her body that she just doesn't even register the invasiveness of it anymore? Does Weller ever feel weird about looking so clinically and professionally at something that he would very much like to look at in a non-work setting?? But anyhow. I love that when Patterson's talking about the tattoo being a coin that has the date 1776, a hint of sarcasm creeps into her voice as she says 'the birth of our great nation'. I hope Ashley herself put that slight inflection (and social commentary) on it. Also yay Rich gets a small shoutout since he recognised the symbol from the center of the coin, which relates to some smuggler dude. I hope he’s happy back in whatever prison he’s in. And then there’s some complicated puzzle-solving involving another related tattoo that points them to some fancy medical clinic/heatlh spa thing. Jane reads the Greek off the tattoo because of course she can, and when she asks how it all ties together, Patterson quips, "It's all Greek to me!" and looks at big bro Weller with like an 'eh? eh??' expression. He's not amused, but dw Patterson, because we are. You're the cutest and it's great to see you getting your humour back. And then Weller decides they need to all split up-- a team to talk to some dude that has a connection to the smuggler, a team to check out the medispa, and a team to stay behind and coordinate everything and chase other leads as they arise. Naturally Patterson is the latter, and he pairs Jane and Tasha (yaaaaaasssss) to talk to the dude, but then rather than taking Nas with him to the medispa, he says he'll be taking Roman instead. I love that everyone's like 'whaaaaa?', especially us lol. And then he says that he got a call from Pellington threatening to give Roman to the CIA unless he starts giving them useful info and ugh I so want to know if that's true or if he just made it up so no one would try to fight him on his decision to take Roman on the mission?? Zapata's kinda against it but not firmly against it like she would have been a couple of weeks ago, and I'm super interested to see how she and Jane will work together given their conflicting opinions over Roman and their rocky relationship in the past. I have high hopes for some quality bonding time so please don’t let me down, show

Ooh we're doing another timejumping episode like the college shooting one back in S1. Tasha is leaving a (well deserved) angry voicemail for Reade while Jane delivers Roman to Weller and tells Weller to be safe out there. Which is her telling him to look out for both her brother and for himself and ugh I love being back to a place where these two are allowed to openly care about each other again rather than pretending like they don’t. And then naww speaking of caring, Jane checks to make sure Zapata is okay when she hears her sounding upset on the phone. Ugh yaaaayyy at them being friends aain. And then ugh they work together so well as they interrogate the prisoner guy (sidenote, I love the way Zapata says her own name. It’s hot.) and they're just so in sync and so great and just ugh. And then when they come out of the room Jane tentatively asks about Reade-- she knows something is going on and she wants to help because she cares. But she also knows that Zapata is protective of Reade and might push her away for pyring and ugh my little baby Jane just wants all of her family to be safe and happy and ughhhh she's the sweetest. I'm glad Zapata doesn't lash out, she just plays it off as no big deal, saying he just slept in. Jane knows it's not true but accepts it anyway (after making it clear she would help if help was needed). And then a new lead comes in and so they head out-- and omg Zapata is the one to reach out first, admitting it's kinda nice having Jane with her instead of Reade for a change, and then making sure she knows that she doesn't have anything against Roman anymore, she’s just worried about his former Sandstorm ties. Whaaaat. Zapata noticing that Jane is quiet/possibly upset and makes an effort to sort-of apologise to try to make her feel better? Amazing. And then Jane is honest with her about what's really bothering her-- that Weller (who is almost exclusively 'Kurt' to her these days ugh) warned her about trusting Oliver and risk of ties to sandstorm. And omg Zapata's immediate response is 'ooooh you're seeing someone?" and ugh I KNEW the ~supportive girlfriends~ connection between them was still in there. My beautiful supportive lady friends are back. She's happy for Jane, though she acknowledges that it's possible Weller has a point. And then omg they bond over the impossibility of having a life outside the job and Zapata tells Jane about her grandparents’ love story and how she has being single down to a science (me too girl, me toooo) and UGH THE BONDINGGGGGG THIS IS EVERYTHIG I'VE EVR WANTED. Anyway they arrive at the auction house place and tbh I love how small Zapata looks in this ep?? She's such a teeny pocket rocket haha. Then the blonde lady who just sounded very stressed on the phone shows them through to the back area (literally guys it's hard for anyone to believe that you're just two random peeps looking for a coin for Jane's 'dad'. You both have ~Badass Warrior Woman~ written all over you. But lucky they are so badass, because now they're in the middle of a gunfight. Which Jane has literally broguht a knife to. Help, I'm dying over the subtle comedic genius of this writing loll. Also Jane just used that knife to make a dude stab himself in the chest and then she threw him through a window. Good lord, have I mentioned lately how incredible this woman is?? Of course Zapata has held her own very well too, taking out the other dude with a crack shot before the two of them regroup and are like 'what the hell just happened??' lol

Oooh okay we've jumped back to 9am now, where a gorgeous woman is creeping out of Reade's coke-palace, while he pretends to be asleep til the door closes then groggily listens to Tasha's voicemail. Meanwhile, Patterson has been working hard because she's amazing and not flushing her life down the toilet despite the horrible things she’s gone through, and she cracks the tatt just as he gets there. She knows he's lying about his dentist appointment but she’s just like 'whatever bitch let's go, we got bad guys to hunt'. And then lol I love the fact that she's the one driving. She looks so tiny in this huge car. It's probably a good idea though-- are we sure he's sober enough to drive? But anyway she fills him in, and then gets interrupted by a call from Dr Sun, which makes me nervous. No one should be trusting Dr Sun ever. Therapy is great and I fully support it, but please honey go find a nice therapist faaaaaar removed from anything to do with Sandstorm or the FBI or Nas. Like how about my mother?? She'd love to go back to NYC for a while lol. But anyway I appreciate that Reade actually asks her how she's doing and genuinely cares about the answer. He might be living in an emotional trashcan at the moment but he still loves his team. But sigh, for a moment I was hopeful that Patterson's healthy approach to trauma would inspire him but instead he just tries to tell her she needs a night out. No Reade, your form of therapy is not good for anyone. Though I would be supportive of Patterson and Jane and Zapata having a nice little girls’ night in at some point... but anyway my genius baby can tell Reade's off but there's no time for that bc they're at the bad guy's house. But of course he walks up, talking on his phone to the blonde coin lady, just as they're at his door. So now we know who she was talking to just as Jane and Zapata got there... Also man everyone's life would have been so much easier rn if this was the 80s and no one had mobile phones to coordinate with haha. Still, if Reade had been keeping a proper lookout... and then he gives chase and catches him, but somehow the guy mesmerises him with an emotional speech on hating himself and oh geez. Come on, Reade, you’re better than this. But nope, like an idiot he lowers his gun and is about to get shot when Patterson saves his ass (yeahhh, girl!). Back at the lab, he awkwardly thanks her and she responds by asking him if he's okay and trying to get him to get help with his problems. But of course he's not interested, and then someone comes and interrupts anyway, and now they have info on the smuggler person helping a cartel with something. Also lol Reade shows her a bill he found in that dudes apartment for some building, and its printed on perfectly clean, unfolded paper. Idk how you guys get your bills, but they sure don't look like that after being through the postal system. But anyway they send a raid on the building, finding a bunch of empty beds with handcuffs attached-- and then we see the people chained up in a van with the smuggler guy watching over them. Right, human trafficking it is...

Back to 9am (lol it's like a mini groundhog day for us) and Weller runs into Nas in the corridor, telling her to take backup to her meet while she's all 'yeah, nah' then tells him to watch his back with Roman. Bitch, he's much safer with Roman than he is with you! Ugh. And then Roman and Jane are in the elevator and he's so worried about letting Weller down and not remembering anything and being sent to the CIA and ugh my poor baby puppyyyy. And then naww Jane promises that she won’t let them take him away from her. Also it's interesting that the camera followed Jane there for a minute, showing us what we've already seen, rather than just following directly after Weller and Roman after Jane hands him over. Seemed kind of like unnecessary doubling up. But anyway ugh Roman and Weller getting into their cover outfits and talking about the plan and just overall working together and I'm so happy about it. But not as happy as I am about these GLASSES omg. Weller. Be still my heart. Lol but I’m laughing at “No weapon for me?" "Just act like you have one" bc now I'm picturing Roman with his hand hovering over his hip like a gunslinger, and like a balled up pair of socks shoved under his belt to make a bulge under his jacket hahaha. But then omg Roman thanks him for bringing him out and giving him a chance, and Weller says it's all about getting them closer to Shepherd so they can take sandstorm down and move on, but lbr that's only part of it. Part is that he feels for Roman and what he’s going through. And a big part is his feelings for Jane :P And aww I love that they made up a backstory for Roman, aka the bodyguard who is not even meant to speak. Who's gonna quiz him? Other than Weller, I mean lol. I love these two getting along. And lol "you're security, open the door" haha, he's already behaving like a pampered rich guy. Oooh this place has exactly the same security as the auction house, and the guy has the coin displayed on his desk?? Seems kinda arrogant when it's apparently the symbol of your shady dealings. And then Mr White Teeth gets all distracted by Roman's scar which is stupid bc he would never risk offending a rich client by wasting their time focusing on their bodyguard instead. And then Roman gets pissed and grabs him which earns them a timeout in the meditation room haha. A place that is clearly not very tranquil for Weller bc this time he's the one getting pissed and grabby-- and then Roman smugly presents the key-fob for the restricted area and Weller is all '...damn. I think I like this kid' lol. And then when they sneak into the area, Weller gets a call and the whole team does an adorable little conference call to update each other on what they've found out so far. While they're chatting Roman uses broken medical instruments to pick a lock on a cabinet and while that totally wouldn't work (trust me I'm a lockpick now lol) it's super cute that he opens it and then steps aside like it's an offering to Weller. And then he reappears a moment later with some medical files, allowing Weller to put together the answers-- that the cartel is trafficking people to be used as organ donors at this medispa. Then ta-da, the blonde woman appears, but by the time Roman and Weller get there, she's killed the doc and made a run for it. The badass bros-in-law chase her down and find her-- only to be tazed and kidnapped. Oops.

Back at the NYO, the team is set on finding the boys (especially Jane, which is unsurprising since it's the two people she loves most in the world). Nas has to go to meet her source and everyone is like "k, byeeee" and immediately forget about her the moment she leaves the room. Jane realises that the guy they interrogated earlier must know more than he let on so she and Tasha and Reade lean on him with their new info-- turns out his gf was doing all the trafficking stuff without his knowledge. I kinda feel sorry for the guy. Also I was gonna say he reminded me a little of Lin Manuel Miranda somehow and then I realised that it's because he's from Hamilton haha. Sigh, I will see it someday.... Anywho, he helps them by giving them a location where they can find the truck and therefore rescue the victims and their boys :)

Speaking of which, both Weller and Roman are chained up inside the truck with the others, and Roman is freaking out bc it's giving him flashbacks and ughhh Weller pulls him out of the memory and reassures him and ughhhhh my boys. And then the other prisoners help them figure out a way to escape and we find out Roman can speak Spanish bc he really is Jane’s brother (man I gotta start learning spanish so one day I can just randomly whip it out like that). Anyhow the team is at the site and are all spreading out ready to take down the bad guys and then ugh Jane sees Weller in the truck and there's a second of eye contact and then the team dives into a gunfight with the baddies (bc it's not Blindspot if there's not multiple epic showdowns per ep) and while they're engaged in that, Weller chases down the blonde and Roman goes for the smuggler, and Jane runs after them both bc she's gotta protect her boys. I love that Weller goes all Assassin's Creed and jumps from truck to truck, then pauses as he sees the blonde fleeing one way and Roman fighting a losing battle the other way-- so he directs Tasha and Reade after the woman and dives to Roman's rescue, shooting the bad guy a second before he cuts Roman's throat. And Jane is there a second later and ugh the fear in her voice as she yells Roman’s name and then ugh the way both she and Weller crouch over him ughhhh I know he's her brother but in a way they're both parent-figures to him and ugh I get emotional about it. Meanwhile Tasha and Reade are still searching for the blonde, who shoots Zapata in the freaking back, like seriously how dare she do that to my precious baby. Thank god she was wearing a vest. Reade is as pissed about it as I am, so he shoots the blonde in the back too which has just a hint of poetic justice to it tbh

Ughhhh Jeller finding each other in the hallway and she checks if he's okay and he immediately asks after Roman and she tells him that Roman's fine thanks to what he did (yes boy are you figuring out that the way back to this woman's heart is by caring about and protecting those she cares about?? Which includes yourself btw so no foolish business please). And then awwww he admits that he kinda enjoyed hanging out with Roman and he kinda likes him and she's THE CUTEST as she teases him about playing it cool so he doesn't come on too strong and ugh she jokes about it but I bet that his acceptance and liking of Roman means EVERYTHING to her. And then omg Weller brings up Oliver AGAIN (booooooiiiiii whatre u doingg) and then he tells her that though she should be careful she doesn't have to give up all aspects of her life for this fight and she's all 'so you think I should give him a chance?' (aka 'so you've definitely moved on then?') and he's all 'well that's up to you' (aka 'I literally want every man bar me to stay as far from you as possible but I can't even admit that to myself right now let alone to you so I'm gonna hedge hedge hedge') and then what the HELL is THIS bc he genuinely compliments her about always looking for the best in people and then says that it's ONE OF HIS FAVOURITE THINGS ABOUT HER. ONE OF MULTIPLE FAVOURITE THINGS. ABOUT HER. LORD SAVE ME FROM THIS HELL. AND UGH HER WHISPERED 'thank you' AND THE WAY HE SMILES AT HER WITH THE CRINKLY EYES AND THEN EVEN AS THEY WALK AWAY SHE LITERALLY PAUSES AND ALMOST TURNS BACK AND UGHHHHHH WHAT IS THIS BEAUTIFUL TORTURE I LOVE-HATE IT SO MUCH

Omg then the next thing Jane does is go to Tasha and ask for her help doing a background check on Oliver which is adorable and then they find out he changed his name (so he CHOSE the last name 'Kind'?? Literally what kind of damn pretentious... sigh nevermind) and Zapata tells her not to jump to conclusions about it and Jane just looks at her and is all 'would you' and she's all 'oh yeah' and ughhhhh these two cuties ughhh

Speaking of cute pairs, omg Weller is literally visiting roman in his cell with beers and asking him if he's okay and tells him he did good work and ugh they smile at each other and joke about the spanish thing and then Roman is honest about not wanting to remember the bad things he's done and ugh Weller shares some background on his shitty childhood and ugh LOOK AT THIS BONDING. LOOK AT IT, ANAKIN. And so clearly all the pairs are having a little post-mission ~moment~ rn bc now Patterson and Reade are talking in the locker room and firstly oooh Weller's having some drinks at his place tonight, I bet Jane is gonna be there. Ugh wait I wonder if that's why he brought the beers to Roman, bc he knows he couldn’t let Roman come but he wanted to share the moment with him somehow and ughhh help me. But anyway unlike the sweet bonding of the last two pairs, this is Patterson basically calling Reade out on his shit, which I am SUPER supportive of. Then he gets defensive and says she's being stupid, which I am not at all supportive of. But she ignores him and continues on, making it clear she knows what's going on. And omg she has a brother who's an addict and maaannn this is such fascinating backstory I want to hear 100% about this. But ugh then Reade gets even more defensive and basically tells her to shut up and bugger off and grrrr Reade I am really not a fan of you these days. I miss the Reade that was sweet and sassy and supportive and stupidly in love with Sarah Weller. I loved him, but I really don't like this guy much at all. Sigh.

Speaking of guys I don't like, Oliver shows up at Jane's apartment, and yet again when he speaks I'm reminded of that terrible terrible accent of his. But sigh I will acknowledge that he's kinda sweet and they are cute with their little hand-holding thing and whatever. But oooh she goes for it an asks him about the name change and he gets pisssssseeedddd. Lbr there's probably going to be some completely legit reason for it like he had a really terrible family situation or whatever, but lbr I don't really care bc it means it got him out of her apartment (a dinner-at-home date seems like the prime situation for some lovin', so I'm very glad that it crashed and burned lol)

Aaaand speaking of crashing and burning, the basically-forgotten Nas has reached her meet-point and is now being garrotted. Oh well. But then lbr we all know she doesn’t die so no point in getting excited. Er, I mean ‘worried’...

#Blindspot #Blindspot recap #Jeller #sooo late but also appropriately timed for the new ep so...?#Ugh I loved this ep though #the bonding was just the beeeessstttt #and the jeller is getting closer and closer I can feel it #I'm so ready

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