blandly

On Shaming Queer Viewers of Sherlock

I have seen quite a bit of people commenting on the response many of the queer viewers of Sherlock had after the airing of The Final Problem. Some have ranged from bewilderment to condescension to downright mockery–the latter even being written about on separate blog platforms. I can easily say, “don’t be a fucking dick” but what’s the point really? They are dicks and me telling them not to be will not change their essential nature. I’m writing this for you, the queer viewers, the allies, or anyone with a heart.

Sherlock is not just a television show. Things are not just anything. I can’t believe people are willing to live their life so blandly and without passion. But I’m digressing. 

Sherlock is a story and stories have always and will continue to be the defining factor of a civilization’s understanding of what it means to be human. When we look at history, we observe the events, we examine the artifacts, and we piece together bit by bit of what they may be like. But it is the stories that have the most prominence. The stories don’t just say what they ate or what materials they had access to, the stories reveal the soul, they reveal the values, they reveal their hopes and fears. They are so much more than just entertainment. The heroes of these tales are what we as a people aspire to. Sherlock is not a real person. He is so much more than that. He’s a hero of the scientific age; a man who wins through intellect and careful procedural study. He is the hero of the modern world. I would go more into this but surely some of the more passionate readers of the ACD oeuvre can add to this.

Representation is about humanity. It’s about affirming one’s humanity. The lack of women, the lack of POC, the lack of LGBT+ and anything in between is about the denial and the dismissal of those individual’s humanity. They are not allowed to participate in the most human of activities, the story.

The explicit queerness of BBC Sherlock’s hero is a clear and undeniable inclusion into this overdue right. For once, a gay love story would be the main feature of one of the most popular tv shows. The show was not about being gay, nor advertised as gay tv like Queer as Folk or the L Word nor does it just have LGBT side characters. Furthermore, regardless of whether one agrees with the reading of Arthur Conan Doyle’s stories as queer coded, you cannot deny that for decades, the Sherlock Holmes tales were a refuge for many LGBT+ readers to finally see themselves in the narrative even if it was a hint there and hint here. They were so hungry for it, so hungry to be seen as person.

Now, I’m not LGBT. I’m a straight woman. But I’m also a Native American woman and I can tell you that it is feels almost exactly the same. Whenever I see an actor that may or may not be Native, I alert my family. We stare at the TV in delight. We’re just so sadly excited to see that one maybe native guy. I can even name the few that were in Supernatural. The security guard that tells the boys that the bag containing the tablet is missing and then the one pot smoking kid in the pennywhistle episode. Isn’t that sad? I knew that shit from memory. Hell, EVERY NDN person I know has seen the movie Smoke Signals, sometimes 20 times. What I am saying is, I GET IT. I know what it’s like to long to be seen. To see yourself as the hero. And why do we? Because these stories are where the myth making happens. It’s where are values are hashed out. It’s where we realize good and evil. AND It’s where we learn what it’s like to love.

When TFP didn’t have what we all thought, it was heartbreaking. It was like someone spat in your face and said, HA! You thought you were a person! You seriously though YOU could be the hero. And when I read some of your posts that night, I couldn’t help but cry for you.

Now, to the mockery. First off, I think this is born out of an inherent misogyny and additionally on top of that, homophobia. Now why would I say that?

I’m also from Chicago, IL. Some of you may have remembered when the Chicago Cubs won the World Series and how big a fucking deal it was. I remember watching it live and screaming my head off. We busted out the door and screamed into the night sky. The neighbors were clanging cow bells. It was such an emotional moment. The day after I fucking cried. No lie. I cried. My sister went to the stadium where a bunch of people were writing the names of lost loved once in chalk on the bricks and all over the sidewalk and on the name plaques of all the former players. We were one of them. My father died a couple years ago and all I could think about was how happy he would be. I can imagine him now watching that final play and starting to cry and pretending not to. It meant so much to him. Hell, the news was running features of all these grown ass men crying. AND THIS WAS FOR A BASEBALL TEAM. I bring this up to you because if someone laughed at these people, I wasn’t aware of it. It wasn’t just a baseball game. It was more than that. And how on earth is a seeing a queer hero not even more important? How is it not worth our hearts?

In the end, what I am saying is. These stories matter. They matter more than we realize and it’s ok to care about them. Anyone who laughs at you is a dull boring idiot. They live a small stupid, uneventful life. We ought to feel sorry for them.

 I’m still a part of the conspiracy. I believe in Sherlock Holmes. I believe in Johnlock and you best believe I will be crying tears of joy with you all once it is finally realized after all these years.

no offense but people who are saying “we can survive four years of this man” are the people who could survive. who aren’t disabled and watching their chance to be able to pay for healthcare plummet. who aren’t worrying if they’ll be murdered by police. who aren’t wondering if there’s going to be a new wave of homophobic crimes, including psychological and physical torture labelled as a “cure”. who aren’t worried that a white terrorist will hunt them down and kill them for being a member of islam. who have a family that will be staying peacefully in our borders, who aren’t going to go back to countries that could possibly mean their death in some circumstances, who aren’t wondering what’s going to happen when they can’t afford to eat anymore.

i think there’s something so dangerous in the idea that we can blandly “survive” him. a calming wave that promises - oh, it’s not so bad, and we’ve lived through bad before. you lived through bad before. others did not.

don’t be calm. living, breathing, being alive in spite of this man is the best thing to be. our existence is a menace to him, and the idea that i could be causing him some small amount of discomfort is a small and bitter pleasure of mine. be alive, but fight. the only way out is through. he can guess again if he thinks we’re going to brace ourselves and hope we’re one of the ones who doesn’t become a statistic. there are those who cannot fight that i am protecting. there are those who must remain apart for their own safety. since i have the voice and the ability, i’m here. since i am able, i will be everything he hates and i will be it loudly, i will be it for those who cannot be. 

there are people who will not survive this presidency. there are people who have died as a direct result already. and i want him to feel every drop of blood he is responsible for. we cannot sit and pray we’re one of the survivors. as long as we are surviving, we must make use of our time because - god help me - we might be the next victim. and while everyone around us is placidly buckling down and bearing the load - we’ve already held up so much. and i want him to feel the weight. i want every ghost he gathers to swallow him whole. 

there are those who will not survive. there are those that did not survive. there is always hope, there is always the others who carry our light, there is always our own hands. but we cannot promise that there will be no loss of life. we cannot promise that the america we know will be somehow unchanged on the other side. 

we are alive for the moment. and i’m ready to fight.

a thing based on this ask and this related comic by @infinite-atmosphere because I just had to

2200 words of REALLY HASTILY-WRITTEN FIC ignore any egregious errors

McCree first sees him on the streets of Hanamura, not far outside the guarded Shimada property. McCree sits at the counter at the Rikimaru ramen shop, poking halfheartedly at a bowl of shoyu. A figure steps up to the counter beside him, and though McCree doesn’t look up at first, he can hear the cook greet the newcomer enthusiastically. So he looks up.

The newcomer is, quite possibly, the most handsome man he has ever seen. With long, dark hair tied back in a ribbon, piercing dark eyes, and cheekbones one could cut themselves on, the sight of him very nearly stops McCree’s heart.

Keep reading

Better Late Than Never

Can you do an imagine where reader is jealous of Newt and Tina with fluff at the end? :) Thanks

Edited by @winter-patrick


“Newt This place is amazing" 

You look to your right and see that Newt had brought Tina into his case. 

“Oh hello Tina.” 

You say politely, she was about to reply when  Newt whisked her away.

 “Come, Tina, I have so much to show you” Newt grabs her hand and leads her to the mooncalves. 

Your face fell a little as Newt completely ignored you. It’s not like you had been friends since Hogwarts and you had been there for him and almost got killed a couple times helping him. Oh wait. You exited the case not wanting to hear Tina and Newt laughing. 

“Hey y/n!” Queenie says brightly, “Oh, hey Queen” You say blandly, her face frowns a little as she reads your mind. 

“Queenie, please don't read my mind” She nods and goes back to listening to Jacob. 

Your mind swirls with thoughts, I’ve been there for Newt through everything, 

Why can’t this idiot see how much I love him, am I not good enough? 

What does Tina have that I don’t? 

You excused yourself to the bathroom, you looked at yourself in the mirror. Sure Tina had amazing bone structure and her hair was smooth. You continued comparing when you heard Newt and Tina come out of the case. 

“The case was amazing! I haven’t seen anything that amazing!” Tina’s voice rang out through the apartment. 

\“Isn’t it Tina, It’s almost as wonderful as you.” Newt said playfully. 

Your heart broke a little, you walked out seeing everyone laughing but Tina’s and Newt’s face are dusted a light pink. Queenie’s eyes travel toward you and she walks over to you. 

“I asked you not to read my mind” she gives you a sympathetic look, 

“I know, people are easiest to read when they’re hurting” sighing you start to walk away from her

“I'm not hurting Queen, I’m fine, besides I always knew I was never going to be his” you give her a half smile before walking towards the door. 

Newt watched you walk to the door, his face laced with confusion. 

“Y/N, where are you going?” he asks walking over to you. 

“Out.” you reply curtly. 

“Out where?” he asks confused by your tone. 

“Just Out Newt. Go back to Tina. Then you’ll forget all about me.” 

You walk out the door before Newt had a chance to reply, slamming the door behind you. At this point Newt was very worried, you were never like this. You were always so kind and occasionally sarcastic but nothing like this. 

“Queenie, do you have any idea what that was about?” Newt asks. 

“Oh im sure she’s fine Newt, maybe she just needs time on her own” Tina says, ushering Newt to sit down. 

“I don’t know…” He says looking at the door, “I guess you’re right”. 

He sits down and listens to the dinner conversation, his mind still on you. You walked out the door and onto the streets. When you noticed Newt didn't even try to stop you it only reassured your thoughts. Newt didn’t care. You wandered aimlessly for a while, not sure what time it even was you ended up in Central Park. 

You laid down on the grass, thank merlin for summer nights, a warm breeze blew past your face. You gazed at the stars, a little part of you wishing Newt was with you. Eventually, you found yourself drifting off to sleep. 


“Y/N! Y/N!” Your eyes slowly opened, you were still in central park. the sun was rising and the sky was orange. 

“Y/N!” You heard the distressed voice of Newt calling you. 

He came into view, his hair was a mess, his bowtie was untied and his eyes were bloodshot. He spotted you and he ran over to you. 

“Merlins beard Y/n! You had me so worried, where were you, are you hurt, why did you leave, why did you not come back?” 

He continued asking you questions, not leaving you any time to respond. 

“I’m fine Newt, I was here and I fell asleep” 

“Never ever do that to me again y/n” he sat next to you and laid on the grass. 

“Newt, did you sleep?” you ask, he looks up at you, 

“honestly, no. I was in the case for a while and when I came out I noticed you weren’t there. I got worried and I went searching” 

“Why?” you ask. 

“Because I care about you y/n, you’re my best friend” Friends “Is that all we’ll ever be” you whisper, not wanting Newt to hear. 

“What was that y/n?” he asked, 

“Nothing.” The sharpness in your voice returned.  

“Okay, really y/n, what’s wrong?” he sat up and looked at you. 

“It’s just… It’s stupid, really. I guess I got jealous, of you and Tina,” you say, shamefully.

 “Jealous?” he laughed a little and you felt even worse. You were about to get up when Newt grabbed your hand. 

“Y/n, why on earth would you be jealous? You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met. You’re so smart and also the most stunning. I’ve had a crush on you for a while now.” He gave you an awkward smile. 

“I feel really dumb,” you say, turning red. 

“I should have said something,” Newt replies, also beginning to turn red. 

“Better late than never, I guess,” you start to laugh and Newt joins in. 

“Come on, love. Let’s go back.” He stands up and grabs your hand and the two of you walk back to the apartment.


I have an Idea for Angst to the max fic and ill be worken on requests this week too!

Taste It - Jim Moriarty x Reader

this one is so weird ahhh

it’s kind of kinky? but super super weird.

yeah i dont know im sorry

(also kinda gross depending on how you are but yeah. Not what I usually write.)

Originally posted by aphgeneralhux


“Argh.” He groaned, clutching his head, tilting his head back.

“What?” You asked blandly, unamused with Jim’s dramatic mood lately. 

He sighed, “(Y/n), it’s just so boring.

“Oh yes I know, terribly so, why don’t you go and play with Sherlock again - oh wait” You look up from your book to meet Jim’s eyes. “You killed him.”

Jim rolled his eyes, “Yes, thank you (Y/n), very helpful, thank you for reminding me.”

There was silence in the one room flat. Jim lay spread eagle on the bed, you sitting in the large armchair.

Tick, tick, tic-

Suddenly, Jim got up and hurled the clock from the shelf. It hit the floor, shattering and the cogs and glass skidded across the floor.

You winced, reaching down to look at your calf, which had been sliced open by a stray piece. It wasn’t deep but it stung, the blood ebbing from the wound.

Jim slid down to crouch in front of you, holding your leg in his hands he examined your wound.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You asked angrily.

He looked up at you, a crooked smile on his lips, “Can’t you just taste it?”

“Taste what?” You asked, not sure you wanted to.

“The sexual tension of course.” He smirked, and with one swift motion he licked up your leg, his tongue stinging against your skin. 

You gasped in pain, your hands going to his hair to hold him back.

“There we go!” He laughed as you held him away from you, exposing his pale, pale neck. 

“You’re sick.”

“True. But you’re a bit sick too, aren’t you (Y/n)?” Jim raised an eyebrow, tilting his head and pouting as much as he could in his current position. 

You shoved him back with a foot to the chest and he fell back on the wooden floorboards, laughing. Sliding off the chair, you leaned over him, your mouth inches from his, “I don’t taste anything, my dear friend.” You spat the last word. 

“Let me show you.” Jim murmured, taking you slowly towards him, giving you a chance to push him away again, but you didn’t. Your lips met his in a messy, clumsy, rage fueled kiss. His hands held your shoulders, pulling you down to him and then under him when he rolled over. 

“Can you taste it now, “(Y/n)?” He asked sarcastically, licking his lips.

“Oh just a taste.” You teased. He smirked and went back to kiss you, to give you a better taste of whatever it was he had. 

And it was good.


Masterlist

Let This Be A Sign (Part 4)

Originally posted by newt-and-pickett

(A/N: I know I said that this would’ve been posted up by yesterday, but In a turn of events, I was just accepted into a very difficult (and v interesting) internship at my university and I honestly couldn’t be happier! My apologies for not keeping my promise! ALSO~ holy crap?? 1.5K followers? Thank you so much! xx)


Despite you being very frustrated with Newt at this precise moment, you couldn’t help but lead him to your apartment building.

“Do you have anywhere to stay?” You asked blandly in front of the brown and red building.

“No I don’t,” replied Newt as he glanced upwards, “but I can make accommodations elsewhere.”

“Nonsense,” you retorted, throwing Newt a soft smile as you opened the building door, only to walk through it. “I have a spare room you can take- if you’d like of course.”

“T-thank you.” Replied Newt quietly as he too, stepped through the door.

“Nobody stays with me,” you began to explain, “but I’ve always had a spare room in case, um-”

“In case I came back?”  Newt asked with a raised eyebrow, causing you to blush slightly.

“No,” you replied with a devilish smile your blush still in full bloom, “in case I wanted to bring someone over.”

Your response caused Newt to stop in his tracks and blush furiously, while you continued to walk aimlessly through the hall, stopping when you reached the elevator. He was still standing there, stiff as a board as he stared at you, his ears and cheeks red as a tomato.  “Are you coming?”

Your question seemed to snap him out of the trance he was in because not three seconds later was he at your side, clearing his throat. “S-sorry,” he said, “you kind of threw me off for a second there.”

“Did I?” you asked innocently, “how come?”

“No reason in particular.”

You hummed in response and nodded as the elevator arrived, creating a ‘ding’. As you both stepped into the elevator you pressed your floor’s button and fiddled with your fingers, a nervous habit you adapted.

“D-did you ever find someone else?” Newt asked suddenly, causing you to turn your head in question, “you know- after us?”

You couldn’t help but take a deep breath and shake your head slowly, not taking your eyes off of the wooden floors that lined the elevator. “It’s kind of hard to find someone else when you’re the latest rumor in Hogwarts Drama.”

You didn’t look up at Newt as you continued to stare at the ground, the elevator humming underneath the both of you. “Everyone talked about how you went off and saved Leta, leaving me for her, because I wasn’t good enough.”

“But that’s not true!” Replied Newt, shock entering his voice, “I didn’t want to leave (Y/N), but I couldn’t let her take the blame!”  

Right as the elevator hummed to a stop and a ‘ding’ echoed in the small space where both you and Newt stood, you looked up at shrugged at your clearly upset best friend. “It’s in the past Newt,” you said gravely, “maybe we should just let this go- it might be better for us.”


As soon as you reached your apartment door, you couldn’t help but suddenly feel very sheepish about having a man enter your private space.

It really shouldn’t have mattered since the boy was Newt of all people, but you figured it was the fact that you hadn’t seen him in so long that made you nervous.

Your apartment wasn’t much, but to you it was the place where you could destress and relax, really it reminded you of the Hufflepuff Common Room. (A place you really missed, truth be told)

The walls were a light cream color while pots and pots of lilies added decoration to it. Pictures of your family and friends from both Hogwarts and MACUSA lined the walls to add a more home feeling to it.

As you walked in your living room you couldn’t help but take a quick look at one of the frames among the many that lined your wall. The picture held two Hufflepuff’s who were laughing uncontrollably and holding hands tightly as they walked along fallen leaves. You loved that picture dearly because, although things with Newt didn’t end ideally, you liked to remember the good times you had with him.

As you turned around to welcome Newt into your home you accidentally bumped into him because he was standing right behind you. You bumping into him hardly seemed to faze him as he stared at the frame with sad eyes. “Is that us?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah,” you admitted just as quietly, your cheeks flushing slightly. “I-uh, kept a few things after moving here- it reminded me of home and I thought it would make the process a little bit easier.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” you replied, clearing your throat slightly. It’s not that you didn’t want to talk to Newt about the situation at hand, you just didn’t feel like it should matter anymore- the both of you were now adults and it was time to forget such a long memory. “I can show you to your room if you want- it’s right across from mine.”

You waited for Newt to reply but when he didn’t, you couldn’t help but tug lightly on his jacket like a child; the movement caused him to look at you with sad eyes, “Come on,” you said softly, “I’ll show you to your room and then I’ll make us some dinner.”

In the short few minutes that it took Newt to settle in his room, you excused yourself to make dinner when he gripped your arm, forcing you to stop leaving; you raised an eyebrow in question.

“Your home is very lovely,” he said, a soft smile on his face, “Thank you for sharing it with me.”

“N-no problem,” you responded.

“I want to show you something too if you don’t mind,” Newt continued as he walked away from the neatly folded bed and placed his suitcase on the ground softly, clicking the straps open. “I want you to meet my creatures.”

Stepping inside Newt’s suitcase felt like an entire different world, you couldn’t help but gasp quietly as his creatures gathered around Newt, each of them whining slightly. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself when you heard Newt mutter, “it’s okay, it’s okay, Mummy’s here.”

Suddenly you felt something small scurry onto your leg, causing you to jolt, but before you could say anything, you were greeted with big black eyes and a bill like snout. It sniffed at your necklace before looking at you curiously.

“Hello,” you said softly, “and who are you?”

“That’s the Niffler,” Newt replied suddenly as he walked towards you, a smile on his face, “he’s a devious little thing, but quite sweet if he likes you.”

“Has he ever gotten you in trouble?” you asked with a grin as the Niffler played with your necklace lightly.

“Actually,” replied Newt sheepishly, stepping closer to eye the Niffler pointedly, “he’s the one that made a scene in the bank.”

“Oh!” you replied, glancing at the Niffler, “so you’re the one that made Tina arrest Newt.” In responce the Niffler sniffed at you once more before burying its head in it’s hands in an almost apologetic way, causing you to gush slightly.

In your mind, Dinner was long gone as Newt continued to show you around his suitcase, you met all of his creatures and enjoyed the way he would behave with each individual creature.

 In fact, you even met a funny little creature named Pickett, who gratefully, took to you very well; he even let you carry him for a while.

Everything was going well until Newt asked you to pick up some of the food for the Erumpent from the shed. Of course you obliged instantly and practically skipped to the shed. 

Dare you say it, but everything was starting to feel like your times in Hogwarts again, you swear you hadn’t had this much fun in ages.

Upon entering the Shed, you couldn’t help but playfully roll your eyes at Newt’s messy workspace, you remember quite well your study sessions with Newt and how messy the workspace got quite quickly; but as you continued to walk around the Shed, eager to find the Erumpent food, you couldn’t help but pick up a nearby picture frame from a table, curious.

The picture moved beautifully as it showed a young girl smiling playfully at the camera, her smile radiant, although the picture was in black and white. 

Your eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you tried your best to figure out who this girl was, she seemed oddly familiar.

You turned the picture frame slightly and gasped quietly when you found handwriting on the back, it was written delicately in fine ink.

 “Thank you Newt, I look forward to seeing you again. -Leta Lestrange x.”


Read Part Three HERE

Sancoeur - Part One

ALRIGHTY!!! I’ve got this entire fic planned out and I will update till it’s finished! I hope you like this Miraculous Halloween fic. :) 

Thanks for reading!

——

“Heeey Nathalie…” Adrien said suspiciously as he stepped up to her desk, his hands behind his back. She looked up at him, raising an eyebrow at the nervous smile spread across his face.

“Yes Adrien?” she asked, putting her pen down on her notepad.

“Are you excited for Halloween?” he asked, his smile still set onto his face.

“Adrien, what do you need?” she said blandly, propping her chin onto her hand.

“Wh-What?! Nothing! I mean, I guess I wanted to ask you something, I…” he grit his teeth and she continued to stare at him, waiting for him to finish.

“I… I was wondering if I could have a Halloween party and invite my friends, please Nathalie- please?!” Adrien clasped his hands together, and she sighed.

“Adrien you know your dad doesn’t feel comfortable with-”

“But he’s not here! He’ll be gone for another week, come on! We don’t even have to have it here, we can have it somewhere else!”

“Adrien, I-”

He pursed his lips together into a pout, his eyes looking near watery as he begged her without speaking. Nathalie sighed again, sounding exhausted, and then she opened her eyes to look up at him, a smile spreading across her face.

“Fine.”

“AH! THANK YOU NATHALIE! THANK YOU!” Adrien cried, and she talked over him saying loudly,

“As long as it isn’t here!!! And please tell your friends that it is a private party, let’s keep this as quiet as possible!”

“I will! Thank you so much Nathalie! Thank you!” Adrien cried, sprinting happily to his room so he could go make plans.

Nathalie smiled to herself and continued to work.

—-

Next Part :)

Movie Night w/ Team Free Will

Team Free Will x Reader

(Mainly Dean x Reader)

Author(s): Lil Lambie

Words: 892

Warnings: The Notebook, the pizza man, mention of porn, implied smut, awful writing


The four of you are piled on the motel couch with a box TV in front of you. You sit between Sam and Dean. Cas rests against the arm uncomfortably. He almost sits on the side of the couch. You all stare at the static on the TV blankly.

Until Sam speaks. “Hey, if we are just going to listen to white noise for the next two hours, can’t I just get back to reading my book?”

Dean smacks his brother reaching over you. “No! It’s about time we actually do something together.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “We spend almost every second with each other.”

“Not hunting.” Dean adds.

“Fine. Let’s watch a movie.” Sam says blandly. A moment later his face lights up with excitement. “Hey! I brought The Da Vinci Code.”

Dean groans. “Nerd. You can watch that any other old day.” Dean smiles. “I’ve got The Three Stooges on tape.” He smiles widely and turns to Cas and you. He expresses exaggeratedly with his hands. “It seriously is a classic! You and (Y/N), would love it!”

You smile and laugh. You’ve watched The Three Stooges with Dean before, eating larger hamburgers and fries together. Cas, back when he was human, stared oddly at the screen as he took a bite of his PB & J. He had it smeared all over his face.

“Does anyone have, the pizza man?”

You and Dean laugh. Sam shakes his head. “Cas, we aren’t going to all watch porn as a family.” he laughs and shakes his head.

“Awww, I’m family?” You say. You kiss Dean’s forehead and he blushes. You stand up, the motel sofa creaking. You reach for your duffel bag until the bed you and Dean are sharing. You aren’t romantically involved with any of the three particularly. But, you and Dean are the most comfortable around each other. Your relationship is the state of a crush, minus the awkwardness and amount of sweat. You unzip it and find it, smirking to yourself. You bend over in front of the TV player and insert the movie.

They all open their mouths to ask you. “Shh!” You tell them. You sit back and lean against Dean. He smiles tentatively at you.  The movie begins. The first scene is an orange sunset, white birds flying over the water, a man rowing a small boat slowly. The title grows across the screen. You hear a collection of groans from Sam and Dean.

“Shut up!” you say, angrily. “Just watch!”

And so they do. The four of you watch The Notebook. Dean wraps you in his arms, making you glad you picked the movie you did. Sam shakes his head but grins at you do. He is engrossed in the love story. Cas makes remarks.

When Noah hangs on the Ferris Wheel, he says. “Why must he prove a point by embarrassing himself and endangering his life? I believe he belongs in what the kids refer to, as “The Looney Bin.” he says with air quotes.

You laugh and say, “I don’t think I understand that reference.”

Castiel forces a grin and nods.

For the rest of the movie, Castiel doesn’t approve of Noah and Allie’s secret relationship, nor the decision of Allie’s parents. You look over to see him what looks like crying. Sam sheds a few tears and Dean holds you a little tighter. Castiel scolds Allie and Noah.

When the movie ends, the scene ending with their wrinkled hands clasped, you all watch the credits roll. Castiel stares above the TV. Sam clears his throat and wipes his face of tears. He punches Dean in the arm and laughs. “Hey, you’re crying!”

“Shut up!”

You kiss a tear and he smiles at you. “I never want you to leave me. I haven’t been honest about how I feel. I am crazy about you (Y/N). I want us to be Noah and Allie.”

You put a finger to his lips. “I want us to be Dean and (Y/N). No one else.”

“I love you, (Y/N).” you have been whispering to each other. He wipes away his tears. “How about we go re-enact a scene of our own.” he smirks. “If you know what I mean.”

You smile at him and the two of you walk towards the door. “Where are you going?” Sam asks, already engrossed in his book.

Dean smirks. “Anywhere but here.”

He rents the room across from your normal room. He locks the door and puts on the do not disturb sign outside. The first kiss is tentative. The rest follow slowly, gentle as he undresses you.

Now, you lie under the covers with Dean. Your head against his chest. He smiles at you and plays with your hair. “I love you.” he says.

“I love you too.”

“Ready John?” You heard the all too familiar sound of Sherlock’s voice when he was just about ready to go solve a case.

“Let me get my coat.” Watson replied jumping from his seat. You were in the bedroom folding laundry when you heard the pair scurrying around. Grabbing your boyfriend’s scarf, you quickly walked into the living area and caught Sherlock just as he was about to fly out the door.

“It’s going to be colder than usual.” You smiled, wrapping the fabric around his neck and tucking it in his coat.

“Thank you.” He replied blandly. You stared at him a few seconds longer in hopes he would give you a quick kiss; but instead he bolted out the door following John. You were used to this, Sherlock not showing affection, but it got to you every time. Everyone had warned you that his world moved to fast, but you ignored their remarks and took a chance on the detective. Perhaps you should have listened to them because now you were much lonelier than before.


“You’ve been awfully quiet.” Sherlock spoke as the two of you sat at the table eating take out.

“Hmm.”

“Is… something the matter?” He asked while checking his laptop. At that point you had enough. You slammed the computer lid down on his fingers, grabbing his attention.

“You’re the detective, deduce me Sherlock… Is there something wrong with me?” For the first time since you’ve known him, you saw how much he was dumbfounded. This was– You were something he couldn’t escape to his mind palace to for help. Staring on in uncertainty, he remained quiet.

“Well Sherlock?” You raised your eyebrows awaiting his response.

“I– you’re,” He shifted in his seat unable to look directly at you.

“Let me help you out. I’m mad, upset, confused, worried. I feel more alone than before. I have a wonderful smart man by my side, but he’s never actually with me. If you never wanted a relationship, you should have just said so…”

“That’s not the case Y/N. I care for you deeply.”

“It doesn’t feel that way.” You shook your head at Sherlock trying to keep your tears back. Just then his phone rang and you let out a sigh when he answered it.

“I’ll be right there.” He said to whoever was on the other end. He stood up and looked at you.

“Just go—we will talk another time.” You gave him small smile knowing if things were left on the wrong foot; it would distract him while he was trying to work. Holmes gave the top of your head a kiss and walked out, leaving you alone once again. You looked around the kitchen and realized how much groceries were desperately needed. You got your stuff together and left 221b to the nearest market. It didn’t take long before you had already paid the cabbie driver and were walking around the aisles of fruits.

“Excuse me ma'am? Did you hear me?” A voice spoke, bringing you back to reality.

“I’m sorry! I must have zoned out just then.”

“You’re fine.” He laughed. “Mind if I ask what you’re daydreaming about?”

“Lots of things.” You smiled while pushing the basket up a few inches to allow the man to grab some apples that you were in front of.

“That’s good, I suppose.” He replied before taking a bite out of one.

“I would think so– Oh, are you aloud to do that?” The volume of your voice quickly changing from normal to a whisper. You watched as he chewed the fruit then covered his mouth when he started laughing.

“Probably not, but who cares! Live life on the edge, I always say.”

“Eating an apple you haven’t paid for is living life on the edge?” You asked through your laugh.

“As of right now.” He answered smiling at you. “The names’ James and you are?”

“Y/N– Y/N Y/L/N.” You grabbed the hand he had held out in front of you, to shake it, but he brought it to his lips and kissed it softly.

“How about you become my ‘on the edge moment’ for today, and go out with me for dinner.”

“Ohh– I don’t think so.” You answered, withdrawing your hand.

“Do you have someone?” James asked while straightening his tux jacket.

“Yes, I do.”

“Where is he?”

“Working.” You answered, raising an eyebrow.

“Then he won’t mind if we go out to lunch then.” He flashed a smile and you found it hard to say no. It had been weeks since you went out. So despite the feeling you had telling you to go home, you agreed. You finished up your shopping, which James stayed around and paid for. He had even driven you home and helped bring the groceries up and put them away. This man was different than Sherlock and that’s probably why you fought against your thoughts; which were telling you that you liked this man very much.

“Let me just clean up a bit, I hadn’t planned on going anywhere but to the market.”

“Take all the time you need love.” James answered with a smile while sitting down on Sherlock’s chair.

You quickly dolled yourself up and walked out. The minute you did James stood up and admired you. His arm went up and you walked over to him before placing your hands around it.

“To lunch we go.” He turned his head to look at you once more, making you blush.

“To lunch we go.” You repeated with a playful smile. The both of you walked downstairs and were met with a limo sitting just outside the door.

“I hope you don’t mind, I made a slight change of transportation.”

“Slight?” You laughed. He nodded and opened the door to the vehicle.

“Lady’s first.” You got inside and he as well. “Driver– to the Grand Montino, please.”

“Yes, sir.” He responded.

“The Montino? That place is– well it’s magnificent, so I’ve heard!” James looked at you with a grin and laughed slightly.

“I only do the best. I’d take this will be your first time?”

“Yes– I never even imagined I would be going there.”

“Well there’s a first for everything.”

Lunch with James was lovely, to say the least. The both of you talked well until dinner time about everything and anything. There was so much in common between the two of you and although you knew it wasn’t the right thing, you wanted to spend more time with this man. Leaving the restaurant, he gave you his coat to stay warm and as you guys waited for the limo, he wrapped his arm around your waist. It was shocking at first, but you just looked at him and smiled. The ride back to your home was filled with laughter and even more talking. You hated to think this; but a once stranger, you had just met today, had spent more time with you than your own boyfriend. You were torn and unsure of what to do.

“Ahhh, here we are.” James said, before opening the back door and helping you out.

“It would seem so. I had a wonderful time– thank you so much.” You removed his jacket and helped him put it back on.

“Perhaps we can make more memories another time?”

“Perhaps.” You smiled looking to the ground. He lifted your head back up to look at him and waited a few seconds before leaning in to kiss you. You snapped back from cloud nine and turned your head to the side, bringing James to a halt.

“Another time.” He pulled back smiling. You nodded unsure of what else to say.

“Goodnight, beautiful.”

“Night.” You walked up the stairs and entered the flat, shutting the door behind you. You leaned back against the wall and let out a deep breath. Making your way up the stairs you couldn’t help but feel an immense amount of guilt for even allowing James to get as far as he did. That was until you opened the door to a dark flat and realized Sherlock hadn’t made it home tonight… again.

— 2 weeks later –  

“We’re you going?” Sherlock asked walking past you.

“Not sure. Maybe walk around the city. Visit the Buckingham Palace.”

“Boring…” He replied childishly.

“Well then be glad you don’t have to go.” You said turning around to face him.

“I am- I am. Be careful Y/N, Moriaty could be anywhere.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t even know who I am, plus I don’t even know what he looks like.”

“I already said I wouldn’t get you involved in my work.” Sherlock answered knowing where you were going with the conversation.

“Right– so watch out for a man that I have no clue about what they look like, gotcha!”

“Don’t be like that, I’m trying to help.”

“Then let me in… Let me be your John Watson for the day! I would love to solve mysteries with you Mr. Holmes.”

“Mr. Holmes is my father.” He said raising an eyebrow.

“And,” You smiled and let out a small laugh, “So what do you say– can I?” You waited anxiously for Sherlock to answer.

“It’s too dangerous Y/N… No.” After a few minutes of silence, from each of you getting ready for the day, you realized maybe it was time.

“Sherlock I think we need to have a talk…”

“About what?” He asked unable to process where you were going with the conversation.

“Us.”

“When I get back possibly.” With that, he gave you a half smile and left the flat to meet with John and Detective Lestrade. As if on cue, your phone went off.

Meet me at the eye?

It brought a smile to your face after Sherlock let you down. Thus, you agreed and started what you had never planned to do; see James in secrecy.

-3 months later-

“I’m glad you could make time to see me, brother.” Mycroft greeted, as soon as Sherlock walked into his office.

“I almost didn’t, but Y/N insisted I did.” The detective answered.

“Ahh– the reason I brought you here.”

“Y/N? Why?” Instead of answering, the older Holmes brother grabbed a file from his desk and threw it across from him.

“What the bloody hell is this.” Sherlock asked, picking it up from the table.

“Open it first– then ask questions.” The younger brother undid the tie that held the file together and saw pictures of you and James Moriaty. A look spread on his face, one of which his own brother couldn’t decipher.

“Someone could have easily forged these to mess with my head.”

“Are you really that stupid! This woman is deceiving you brother! She is seeing the enemy behind your back! You should have listened—” Sherlock grabbed his brother by his tie and pulled him over the desk.

“Shut up! You hear me!”

“Oh, she really has you wrapped around her finger. The evidence is right here. She’s with him; she’s with Moriaty!”

“It’s not true.” Sherlock uttered before releasing his brother and leaving to wait for you at home.


He waited in the dark for you and his eyes never left the entrance. As much as he didn’t want to believe his brother, he couldn’t help it if his mind began to overthink. Just then the door handle turned and in walked you and James.

“Are you sure he isn’t here?” James asked as you set your purse down on the couch.

“He never is.” You frowned as you flipped the light switch on.

“I am now.” Sherlock spoke, freezing you in your tracks. “Tell me Y/N; of all the people to be unfaithful with, why did you choose Moriaty.”

“What?” You asked honestly confused.

“Oh don’t act stupid. I’ve caught you, in the act! He’s literally right there behind you.”

“Sherlock, this is James Henry.” You answered, unsure as to why he would assume such a thing.

“Actually,” James spoke, “I am who your boyfriend says I am.” You turned around and were met with a sinister smile. “Surprise!” He yelled quietly while waving his hands around in the air.

“You—you lied to me?”

“Naturally, love… I do it to everyone, don’t take it personally.”

“Don’t take it personally,” You yelled in disbelief,  “I-I-I told you things.”

“I never asked you to,” He laughed, “But now, to me, you’re completely vulnerable.”

“You utter pompous ass!” Sherlock growled and took a few steps closer to Moriarty.

“Uh-Uh!” He responded just before a red dot was visible on your forehead. “Did you really think that I wouldn’t come here prepared?” The detective gulped, grabbing your attention.

“What Sherlock,” You asked before realizing,” There’s a sniper on me isn’t there?”

“Yes.” He answered staring at you in worry, making you fearful of whatever was to happen.

“I was just a game for you, wasn’t I?” You turned around to face Moriaty, becoming angry.

“I would say no, but I would be lying.” He smirked.

“So, what was the point to all of this? Hmm?”

“Well, it first started with me keeping a very close eye on you. Every time Sherlock left, I watched how sad you became; how you’d wait well into the morning for your detective, but finally give up and cry yourself to sleep. Did you know she did that Sherlock?” He asked looking over to him. Instead of replying he just looked at you, sorrow in his eyes. Moriaty noticed and stepped in front of you, so you couldn’t see him.

“Then I thought; why not make it a game to take something from my dear friend here. I watched and watched, until I thought the time was right and boy was it! You were so eager—so desperate for someone to love you; you practically jumped in my arms.”

“You liar…” You shook your head.

“Takes one to know one, love.” Just then Moriaty grabbed your waist and dipped you. He smiled at Sherlock before placing his mouth on yours. “Lips of an angel!” He shouted before lifting you up and pushing you towards the detective.

“Know who’s around you Sherlock, because you never know if they are working for me.”

“That is what this is all about? Knowing who I let into my life?”

“Precisely, Sherlock, precisely.” He sneered and snapped his fingers before leaving the flat. The red dot on your forehead disappeared and Holmes let out a deep breath before pulling you into his arms.

“I’m sorry—so sorry.” He whispered against your head.

“Why are you apologizing? I should be, not you.”

“I tried so hard to keep you out of the line of fire, that I put you right into it. I’m sorry Y/N.” He squeezed tighter and you couldn’t help but let the tears fall from your eyes. Later that night as Sherlock lay asleep in his bed, you wrote a goodbye letter. He had forgiven you for what happened, but you had told Moriaty too much. As long as you stayed around, everyone you held dear would be in danger. Placing the note where you knew Sherlock would find it, you took in your last look of the flat and left.

I’m Real

A companion piece to go with @mmhinman‘s freaking adorable fanart of these two lovebirds. 


Rolling his eyes, unafraid because the ranting girl was too preoccupied to notice, Inuyasha sighed and propped his cheek in his hand, leaning his elbow on his crossed knee as he stared blandly at the pacing girl before him. Kagome was oblivious to his less than enthused reaction, her hands gesticulating wildly about her as she continued to berate and chide him on his utter stupidity. Her face was flushed and her brown were bright, signaling that she was dangerously close to tears, and Inuyasha sincerely hoped that there wouldn’t be any water-works. Give him a demon juiced up on twenty jewel shards and he’d take it on without a problem, but put a crying Kagome in front of him and he had no idea what to do.

“—completely out of your mind?! How could you even think for a second that you could—!”

Inuyasha’s ear flicked and he blinked slowly, the sudden feeling of the urge to yawn approaching, but he resisted. As her relentless squawking entered one ear and went out the other, the silver-haired half-demon took the chance to study his wench in all of her righteous fury and he couldn’t help but think that this was the Kagome that he was most familiar with. His Worrywart Wench, as he secretly liked to call her, always chiding him on his reckless behavior, needlessly spouting out lectures on what could have happened, how foolish he’d been, blah, blah, blah.

“—and another thing, you could have told me you needed help, you colossal idiot, you didn’t have to do it all on your own—!”

And the longer he stared at her, the more her realized how much he’d actually missed this Kagome as well. He missed her worrying over him, fretting over his wounds, the sound of her voice ranting and raving music to his ears. It had been one week since she’d returned from their three-year separation, and things had been peaceful since then, until a bear demon had threatened that peace and he’d gone to take care of it by himself. His wench had just returned to him; there was no way he was going to bring her with him and risk her life so shortly after coming back, especially when he could take care of it on his own. And he had…just not fast enough. Before he could destroy the bear, Kagome had shown up, he’d gotten distracted, and he ended up taking a blow to the gut that sent him crashing into a tree with enough force to snap it in half. It hadn’t truly injured him, just knocked the wind out of him temporarily, and with renewed determination he’d been able to finally dispatch the bear demon.

“—just can’t believe you’d go out by yourself without telling me and try to kill a freakin’ bear demon for Chrissakes—!”

…Didn’t stop his wench from tearing him a new one, though.

Heaving another sigh, Inuyasha focused his attention back on Kagome as she paced back and forth, mouth still going a mile a minute, frown etched onto her face and as she continued to question the state of his intelligence for what seemed like the nth time that night, the corner of his mouth kicked up into smirk that he couldn’t have prevented even if he tried. Yeah. Yeah, he’d missed this, missed her, and even if she was bitching him out, it sure as hell beat the lonely silence that had been his constant companion the past three years.

“—and I just don’t understand why—Inuyasha, are you even listening to me? And why are you smiling?!” Spinning around to face him, red-faced, wide-eyed, and bottom lip trembling as the high state of her emotions threatened tears, Kagome’s chest heaved up and down as she stared at the smirking half-demon, wondering what the hell he thought was so funny when she was busy reaming into him.

The smirk faded from his face as she knelt before him and Inuyasha resisted the urge to roll his eyes again. Instead he briefly closed them and drawled, “Christ…yes, Kagome, I’m listening.” But before she could continue her tirade, he opened his eyes again and pierced her with such an intense stare, the words froze in her throat and her belly flip-flopped. “Trust me, Kagome, I’m listening, and I understand what you’re saying, but now you listen to me. You need to stop worrying so much, okay? You should know by now that I’ll…I’ll always come back to you, wench. Nothing is going to happen to me and you can trust my word that I’ll always get out of any rut that I find myself in to find my way back to your side. Okay?”

Kagome felt her breath catch in her throat and her heart skipped a beat as her eyes widened to comical proportions and a fierce flush painted her cheeks a vivid scarlet. Inuyasha’s own eyes rounded slightly in alarm at the slightly peevish look that crossed her still-blushing features next, but what really had him panicking were the unshed tears that glistened in those chocolate brown eyes and he floundered for a moment, mouth opening and closing uselessly, sitting up straight from his relaxed slouch and holding a hand out as if to stall the water-works.

“D-dammit, Inuyasha,” Kagome stammered breathlessly, the tears falling from her eyes now and she reached up to wipe them away frantically with her knuckles. “I can’t stay mad at you when you say things like that!” She sniffled and tried valiantly to stop the flow of tears, but they kept coming so all she could do was use the sleeve of her shirt to wipe them away and hope she didn’t look like a complete mess.

“Kagome…” Ears flattened against his head, amber eyes wide as he watched his wench break down before him, it was all Inuyasha could do to not haul her into his lap and into his arms to get her to stop crying, but the longer he watched her, Kagome’s obvious anguish a worse punishment than her earlier admonishments, he thought fuck it. There was obviously something deeper that was bothering her for her to react like this over something so small and he intended to get to the bottom of it.

“Dammit, wench, get over here.” She was just out of his reach for him grab her so he gestured with a hand to scoot closer.

Kagome sniffled and gave him a teary-eyed suspicious glare. “Why?”

He growled impatiently and jerked his hand. “Just c’mere.”

She eyed him for a moment before evidently deciding it couldn’t hurt to do as he’d asked so with a sniffle, Kagome crawled closer to him and the instant she was within grabbing distance, Inuyasha snagged her wrist, dragged her into his lap and wrapped his arms tight around her, pressing her back flush against his chest and burying his nose in her hair. To her credit, his wench didn’t struggle, however she was stiff as a board against him, refusing to relax and he could feel her body trembling as she attempted to suppress whatever she was bottling up inside. Inuyasha frowned and leaned back, about to ask what the problem was now, but her voice, so soft he almost didn’t hear it, stopped him in his tracks.

“I just…I can’t…lose you. I’m terrified that…this is all a dream and…and I’ll wake up and you’ll be gone.” She closed her eyes and covered her face with her hands, shoulders hunched, and body trembling. Kagome took a shaky breath and continued, her voice cracking slightly, “I don’t think I can handle that, Inuyasha. I just…those three years without you were…I can’t…” She squeezed her eyes shut tight and shook her head, biting down on her lip to stop the sobs from escaping.

Fuck this. Time to kick things up a notch. With a low rumble, Inuyasha swiftly maneuvered her so she was facing him now, straddling his lap with a thigh on either side of his hips and he ignored her appalled expression as he grabbed her hand and pressed it against his chest, against his heart as his gaze bore into her own. He was highly aware of the tears running unchecked down her cheeks as he growled, “Feel that? That means I’m real, Kagome. I’m here, you’re here, and this isn’t a fucking dream. I’ve waited three long years for you, wench, and I’ll damned if I let anything take you away from me.” Then suddenly his gaze softened and his free hand raised to gently brush the back of his knuckles against her cheek. “And I know…you’re real, too.”

Heart thundering in her chest, dark eyes wide and glistening, Kagome took a shaky breath and whispered, “How…how do you know?”

She watched as his golden eyes darkened to a deep, smoldering amber and his hand slid into her hair to cup the back of her neck. “Because I can do this,” he rumbled before tugging her to him and covering her mouth with his own in a hot, passionate kiss that was long overdue.

With a sob borne from relief and joy, Kagome melted against him and eagerly returned his kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck, thinking that this was definitely real, he was real, and never again would she have to live in this world without him.

Forget the World

Summary/Imagine/Request:  Kai not understanding his feelings for you.

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries

Character: Kai Parker

Rating: T

Triggers/Warnings: NONE

   “Converse or flip flops?” you mused, looking back and forth between the two pairs of shoes in your hands.  Kai groaned, slumping back on the couch and covering his eyes with his fingers.  The warmth on his torso was becoming hard to ignore, let alone the fact that his eyes seemed to constantly gravitate towards you.  

    “They’re equally tolerable,” he responded blandly.  

    “Hey!” you protested, chucking a tan-colored sandal at his head.  The warlock easily deflected it with a flick of his wrist.  “Converse it is.”

    Pulling on the shoes, you stood up and stretched, tucking your phone into your back pocket.  

    “Back in twenty.”

    “Because?”  Kai smoothly propped his head up on his arms, eyeing you suspiciously.  

    “To pick up a friend.”

    “Another fraternity member?”

    “That was one time!” you yelped, starting to open the front door, “And I thought he was younger!”

    “Still illegal.”  Shooting him a playful look, you slipped out the door and towards blurry figure turning the corner.  

    Once you had walked out of his sight, Kai pushed himself slowly up off the couch and made his way towards the kitchen, where Elena was presumably eating lunch.  

    Leaning on the side of the island opposite her, Kai strummed his fingers on the marble countertop.  Elena looked up, eyebrows raised.  

    “Kai?”

    “I need you to explain something to me.”

    “Don’t tell me that taking Jo’s magic gave you a period, and I have to give you the talk,” she deadpanned, taking a bite of her sandwich.

    “The magic I have right now could do much worse than that,” he responded lightly.  Elena dipped her head in agreement, returning to seriousness.  “I’m feeling warm. It’s in my chest, like when humans have fevers.  And I’m wanting to talk to people.”

    “I think,” started Elena, choosing her words carefully, “that merging with Luke is what’s causing you to…feel feelings.  You felt remorse for, erm, merging with him, and sadness too, when you cried.”

    “That’s…kind of terrible,” Kai responded bluntly, “Is there a spell, medication, surgery, frontal lobotomy?”

    “Look, Kai,” said Elena, knotting her fingers together on the kitchen table.  He sat on the other side of the mahogany surface, untouched glass of water in front of him.  “Either you can accept your feelings, or you can have that lobotomy-”

    “There’s another feeling.”  

    “Really?” snarked Elena.  Kai glanced warningly at her before continuing.

    “I get this urge to, like, smile,” he ranted, “and then I can’t stop looking at-”

    “Y/N.”  Kai raised an eyebrow at Elena.  “We’ve all kind of noticed it,” she explained, unable to keep herself from smiling.

    “I was thinking Jo has a spell for it.”

    “A spell’s not gonna help you, Kai.  You like her.”  He smirked, raising his glass and starting to take a sip before very subtly choking on his water.  Elena followed his eyes to the kitchen doorway, where you and another guy were walking through the room towards the garage..  

    “Hey Kai, Elena,” you grinned, opening the door to the garage, “We’re gonna get ice cream; you want us to bring back anything?” You paused by the entryway, friend standing awkwardly behind you.  

    “A pint of chocolate would be great,” responded Elena cheerfully, smiling brightly at Kai before looking at you, “Who’s this?”

    “Oh God, I’m sorry, this is Nate.  Nate, Elena and Kai.”  Kai leaned back in his chair, staring emotionlessly at the tall blonde standing behind you.  

    “Hi,” smiled Nate, catching the car keys you tossed to him, “Want me to drive?”

    “You’re apparently pretty good at it,” you smirked, watching him grin and start towards your car.  Looking back at the two seated at the table, you rolled your eyes as Elena raised an eyebrow, smiling.  “Elena!”

    “Go on, do your thing,” she laughed, watching you close the door.  “Feeling anything yet, Kai?”  The warlock looked sideways at her, twisting a ring around his finger.

    “That I’d like to kill that dipshit, then yeah, I am.”

    “You should probably tell Y/N about your feelings, then,” hinted Elena, sarcasm tinting her tone, “because she seems pretty into Nate.”

    Kai tapped his fingers absentmindedly on the side of his glass before standing up.  

    “We’ll see if he comes home with her.”

    Kai was lounging in an armchair when you came home, smiling and toting a pint of dark chocolate gelato.  

    “Hey,” you called, frowning as he didn’t turn to look at you.  Jogging into the kitchen to stow the ice cream in the freezer, you returned to the living room and perched yourself on the arm of his chair.  “What’s wrong?”

    He looked up at you, blue eyes hovering somewhere between angry and confused.  

    “You.”

    “Sorry, what?”

    “How was your date?”  You scrunched up your face, not sure what he was trying to get at.

    “It…wasn’t a date.  Nate’s just a friend.”  Kai’s face remained emotionless, but you started to smile.  “Oh my God, did you think I was dating Nate?  Kai, he’s gay!”

    To his credit, Kai expertly masked his surprise.  You leaned your hand on his shoulder in order to turn on the plush arm to face him.  

    “Why?  You’re hot; he’d probably be open to hooking up with you,” you teased, half-joking.  Kai was attractive, with pretty eyes, height, and a sculpted body.  There honestly wasn’t a reason why you weren’t a thing.  Excluding the fact that hooking up with him could mean jeopardizing your friendship and therefore pissing off the head of the Gemini coven, which was not your idea of a fun time.   

    “Good to know you think I’m hot,” he smirked, looking up at you.  You bit back a grin, resisting the urge to scoot into his lap.  

    “Glad it’s good,” you responded cheekily, “Hey, was that an emotion I just saw?”  

    Kai rolled his eyes, the idiotic fuzzy feeling in his chest refusing to go away.  

    “Y/N, I’m a socio-”

    “-path and can’t feel anything.  I beg to differ,” you responded, raising your eyebrows.
    “I like it when you beg,” he smirked.  The fuzzy warmth was moving downwards, past his stomach.  Damn you, Elena and Luke.

    “I aim to please,” you sighed, getting ready to stand up and take a shower. As usual, nothing was going to happen between the two of you.

 An arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you backwards into Kai’s chest.  

    “Y/N…”

so… @sparklystrangergalaxy, I wrote a reply to your ask about KageHina + super glue, and then drafted it which is the thing that fucks up the Read More. So I had to redraft it without the ask, im so sorry i’m dumb (also it is literally nothing like what you suggested ;A;)


“Is Hinata-senpai going to be okay?” one of the second year players asks a teammate nervously.

“I d-don’t know,” a distraught first year says. “K-Kageyama-senpai said–he said–”

There is a heavy sigh from behind them, and they turn, and look up, to see Tsukishima and Yamaguchi at the door of the gym. The crowd of younger players mobs them.

“What,” Tsukishima asks blandly, “is going on.”

“Hinata-san had an… accident…” a second year tells him, before he’s interrupted by the hysterical first year, who says shrilly,

“The captain says he doesn’t know if Hinata can ever play volleyball AGAIN!”

Tsukishima and Yamaguchi exchange glances.

“Are you sure that’s what he said?” Yamaguchi asks kindly. When the boy nods tearfully, he looks at the blonde middle blocker.

“No,” Tsukishima says instantly.

“Tsukki! We have to at least go see.”

They do, and it is exactly as Tsukishima had feared, which is to say, utterly stupid. Kageyama sits mournfully under one of the volleyball nets in a decent impression of the Pietà, face twisted in agony. Hinata lays across his lap as though dead, cradled in his arms, hands clasped together at his side. This is the suspicious part.

“Tobio,” Yamaguchi says as they approach, and Kageyama looks up at them. His face appears to be wet, which could just be sweat, but Tsukishima is pretty sure he’s been crying over Hinata’s lifeless body. “What happened?”

“Hinata–dumbass–” Kageyama says, choked up. “He was helping with one of the props for the cultural fair and he–he–”

“Say it, Kageyama,” Hinata gasps. “Tell them…”

“He super glued his hands together!” Kageyama bursts out, before violently and dramatically whipping his head to the side as a sob escapes him. 

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One day, one rhyme- Day 729

I’ve spent the day undecking halls
And scraping blue tack off of walls.
Angels no longer heard on high,
To the fir tree I’ve waved goodbye.
Santa’s expected no time soon.
With boxes my garage is strewn.
My floors survived a tinsel storm,
My home now blandly uniform.
Out with the old, in with new things
Ready for all that next year brings.