Rae sat on the floor opposite Daryl. The bare wood had become uncomfortable after a time but neither of them moved or spoke, they barely even looked at each other. They simply existed, each waiting in their own silent world as a hazy winter sun beamed between broken roof tiles of the dilapidated building. It was Rick who told her to wait here, that from here she would get the best vantage point of Negan and his men but it didn’t seem like enough. If she was going to believe the stories she was being told then she wanted to hear what he was saying and she wanted to look him in the eye when he took supplies from these people.
The rumble of vehicles was faint but they both heard it, her eyes locking with Daryl’s as they scrambled to the window overlooking the road. Rae wanted to see Negan’s face from the first possible moment and when she finally spotted him, his laugh was curling across his lips and she could almost hear the sound of it. Her heart ached as she pictured the way it had been when they’d spent the night in her apartment. She wanted to warn him, to tell him to turn around but she was powerless. All she could do was stand and watch.
The trucks rolled into Alexandria and more than twenty fully armed Saviors jumped out just like Rick said they would. She kept her rifle trained on Negan’s vehicle, watching as he climbed from the cabin and swung Lucille onto his shoulder. He had a huge grin slapped across his face as he sauntered over to Rick and he pretty much looked as arrogant as she’d ever seen him but that was Negan and Rae was okay with that.
Genre: Fluff Member: Wonho x Reader Summary: Wonho takes his time in observing you as you cook Word count: 995 words A/N: Enjoy!
It’s days like this that Wonho appreciates the most. The days when the dorm is generally quiet, the boys busying themselves with their own little activities or talking to their parents or in Shownu’s case, taking a well deserved nap before dinner. It’s cool enough for him to dress comfortably enough and not have to worry about being too cold later on or being too warm. And there isn’t a hassle to do much. He can kick back in his bed and drown himself in the latest piece of literature that he’s purchased. He loved to read. It sent him to a fantasy world where he could sometimes imagine himself as he main character and fight villains but, romance novels were actually his favorite. He was a sucker for a good romance book that eased him into identifying and analyzing parts of people that he grew to love.
For example, he liked Changkyun’s habit of turning his ring around his finger when he was upset sometimes, a sign for Wonho to pat his shoulder and reassure him everything would be alright, or Hyungwon’s quiet ‘Hyung’ that had just a twinge of a different tone in his voice that told him he missed his family and that he needed a hug. Or Kihyun’s twitch of his upper lip when he couldn’t get the note right and Jooheon’s habit of licking his lips when he needed to vent, not to mention Shownu’s excessive quiet stares at the when something troubled him. Even though Shownu was already a quiet guy, he would just know. He’d radiate a sort of vibe that had his mind turning like clockwork and he’d talk to their leader to help him relax. At first Minhyuk was hard to read, but then it hit Wonho like a brick slapping him across the face. Minhyuk held all his sadness in his eyes. When he was disappointed or feeling down, he’d often mask his sadness in his eyes. His glint and sparkle would be gone, replaced with faded charcoal no matter how hard he smiled.
And then there was you. There were lots of things that he noticed about you and would much prefer to stare at you for hours than be bound to text. He had a real life movie display before his very eyes and he enjoyed ever second of it. Wonho liked to creep into the kitchen when your back was turned to the door. His feet would soundlessly take him into the kitchen thanks to his cat like movements and he’d perch himself on a kitchen stool like a bird watching it’s owner flit around from within it’s cage. He loved when you came over and made them dinner, it gave Kihyun an opportunity to rest and himself much more entertainment that he had signed up for. He was told that you had been Kihyun’s friend for years and that Kihyun had learnt to cook both from his mother and you as you were a chef. Kiyhun wasn’t as good as you though but he wasn’t complaining, he had a free ticket to food and and shelter in addition to doing what he loved so he was more than grateful.
There was something about how you moved that captivated him. A certain type of grace that he couldn’t compare to anything other than a ballerina. Your movements were so calculated and precise, to him, it looked as though you were dancing around the kitchen whilst preparing their meal. Unknowingly to you, whenever you turned around to find him staring into his book or his phone, he’d steal glances and stares of you from where he was sitting. Whilst you used the counter to cut and prepare vegetables, he’d watch as your eyebrows knitted together in full concentration and your nose would crinkle ever so often when you’d almost encounter a problem. Most of the time though, he’d just like to observe how relaxed you looked, probably lost in your own fairy tale. Wonho could just envision you as a strong, independent woman who took pride in what she created in the kitchen. He could almost see you dressed in a fancy flowy gown that complemented your complexion, your lips painted red with your most beautiful feature, your smile as your only accessory.
“Wonho? Why are you staring so quietly?” Your voice blesses his ears and he’s quick to snap out of his daydream to look away frantically as an escape. Wonho could feel the blazing heat of his cheeks spread to the tips of his ears and he could barely stand without stumbling over his own feet. “Calm down are you okay?” You question once again, stepping in front of him before he can escape, placing a hand on his forehead. Wonho’s body functions die momentarily in his tracks as he stares down at you, wide eyed and red faced. He looked like an overgrown child that had just been caught by their mother doing something naughty. “You'e quite warm.” You giggle, retracting your hand slowly. You two had spoken comfortably as friends before, but, today, it seemed more intimate than normal, but it was comfortable. “I- well..you see- I just kind of…umm..” He breathes, or tries to as he trips over his own words, causing you to laugh at him in confusion. Wonho was always the confident type, it was funny to watch him struggle like this. “It’s okay, you’re not sick, I think, but, since you were leaving,” you cut him off, stepping aside to allow him out the kitchen, “Can you call the boys for me, dinner is ready.” You request of him with a small wink before returning your attention to giving the pot one last stir.
Wonho continues to stare at you blankly for a couple seconds, his heart palpitating to the sound of your name resounding in his mind in addition to the list of things that most definitely made you special to him.
Okay so I have a feeling Makoto is getting disappointed in Haru, just from what I’ve seen from the second episode. This scene hit me like a brick slap to the face
This is not the loving gaze we are use to seeing from Makoto. His gaze looks sad and frankly disappointed because Haru doesn’t seem to be taking the career choice quiz seriously. He also looks worried for that same reason. Mamakoto But then when they take their run on the beach, Makoto asks about his future. Haru answers with “As long as I can swim, I’m fine” (or something along those lines). Makoto looks at him with this face,
AGAIN, Makoto looks disappointedly at Haru because of his lack of care. But then Makoto realises (after awhile) that was probably the most Haru thing Haru could say, and gives this cute smile along with a laugh so it would be overlooked by Haru.
Also, there was a mention in an article where Makoto’s and Haru’s realationship will make a transformation, what if the transformation is a negative one. What if Makoto can no longer support Haru’s “childish” ways of being one track minded and starts to move away from Haru, and starts to act more captian like. What if he even stops helping Haru out of the pool.
Clearly that is not Makoto that Haru is seeing in his eyes (Makoto doesn’t wear jammers) and it isn’t Nagisa’s body built. So, what if he is seeing himself.What if he is imagining his future alone with no one there for him, no one to help him. Also, this scene in the opening suggests that idea:
He’s looking to the surface, expectantly, almost hopefully, as if waiting for someone to save him. He’s probably waiting for Makoto’s hand to drag him out of the water, but it never comes. In the last picture, Haru looks sad for even believing that Makoto would come for him.
Next time he decides to tail someone for a case, he should slap himself in the face with a brick. Three hours sitting on this roof, looking onward and not a single bit of notable activity. He didn’t even see lights flickering much less anything else. He was starting to wonder why the client even wanted this guy found. It wasn’t until he was about to turn around and head off that he heard a harsh crash, the detective turning to see a piece of debris flying towards him and just barely missing his face.
Perry writes it on a piece of notecard and tapes it to the back of the dorm door. Unlike her other signage - and the dorm is somehow full of Perry’s signage, Perry’s rules and suggestions for safe and healthy dorm life, despite its population of only two - there are no embellishments. No fancy borders drawn in pen, or shapes cut out of felt to make it more fun.
she doesn’t want this sign to be fun. She wants it to be stark, like a slap in the face. She wants it to hit her like a brick, every morning.
So that she remembers.
So that every single day, she remembers.
THEY. Not she, not Susan. Because she has spent so long hurting the one she loves most and she’ll do anything not to do it again. Even once, even by accident.
She loves them. And she will never hurt them again. End of story.
LaF sees the way Perry’s eyes flick to the piece of paper she’s stuck to the back of the door, all the time. The way she winces and frowns guiltily when it catches her eye, every muscle tensing, the invisible apology emanating from her entire body. i’m sorry. i’m sorry it’s not natural for me, that it’s something i have to keep working on. i don’t want to hurt you. LaF knows Perry’s trying, and they’re not even bugged by the paper. It feels, in a way, like a love letter. Perry is trying so hard and LaF just wants Perry to understand that LaF sees it. Feels that love. Seeing her try, seeing it mean this much to her, makes them feel loved. trying matters. love matters.
Perry wakes up one day and finds not one, but two cards on the back of the door.
THEM (LaF) & SHE (Perry)
and now, each is framed by a shaky heart drawn in pen.
I’ve wanted to get back on the ficcing habit recently, and the recent confirmation of LaF’s gender identity (and kbearluna’s personal comments on the subject) made me think about life once LaFerry make up and settle into this new normal. Thought I’d pop out a bit of flashfic to get back into things.
It wasn’t a rare occurrence for her period to disappear for a few months, sometimes an entire year, depending on her stress levels, so when her period didn’t come one month after her night with Oliver - with Al Sah-him - she didn’t think twice about it.
Or the month after, or the month after that.
The morning sickness was explained away as food poisoning, and her aversion to some foods was a step past that.
Felicity didn’t think about the fact that she hadn’t been on birth control for over three years, or the fact that she hadn’t been with anyone in longer than that. Why take birth control, with all its risks of clots and other issues, when there was no reason to be safeguarding her eggs?
It was logical, and so was forcing herself to forget the night Al Sah-him had slipped into her bedroom, the night she’d managed to see through all those layers of the assassin he had become to find Oliver Queen still hiding inside. To find the man who guided Al Sah-him’s actions, coming to her without knowing why.
His note, ‘Never stop,’ was in her bedside nightstand.
She’d kept it out for a while, kept staring at it for a long time after that night, after she’d made love to a man who was so deeply divided within himself that it was a miracle he didn’t have a mental break. It was a sign, a sign that her Oliver was still in there, still fighting to come out, still fighting for her, for them. She’d kept it out, wanting to see it, to remind herself that waiting for him wasn’t the stupidest thing she’d ever done.
But he didn’t come back.
Eventually, she put the note away, crying herself to sleep before waking up the next morning, and putting it all out of her mind.
And it worked, until John pulled her aside one day and asked her point-blank, “Are you pregnant, Felicity?”