found this hiding in a folder

leahlisabeth  asked:

“i’ve been travelling a lot and somehow you’re in every single city i go to seriously what the fuck who even are you how are you doing this” au

Kay, so I know you were thinking Andreil and them meeting under different names - or at least with Neil having different names. Don’t ask me why that lead me to think “spy au” when it really should have been a soulmate au. (Also don’t ask me about this spy au I have no idea what I was doing, I don’t even know if they’re actually spies or it’s just a mobster thing, I don’t *k n o w*)

=====

There was something off about the whiskey in this city.

It didn’t seem to matter which pub he stepped into – any local brew here in Bornholm had a certain… something in the taste of it. Perhaps something to do with the cask the brew had been aged in… but he couldn’t be sure…

“What do you know of Danish whiskey?” Andrew asked, to seemingly no one. The bartender, bored of cleaning glasses, tossed him a curious glance and then scanned the room, seeing only distant guests chatting quietly by the windows. She might have answered him if he had spoken in Danish. But his question had been voiced in Russian and it was intended for the man looming behind him in the shadows.

The bartender startled when the man sat down beside him. Clearly, she hadn’t known he was there. Typical, Andrew thought, for one of Riko’s Kingsmen.

“Very little, I’m afraid,” the man answered, somehow not making any creaks or squeaks in the aged wooden bar stools. “I never grew the taste nor the interest.” A small wave of his hand dismissed the bartender, who had come over in anticipation of an order to break the monotony of her day. Disappointed, she let them be.

“Not going to run?” The man asked, curious but not thrown off-balance by the abrupt difference in their regular routine of international cat and mouse. Such grace was probably expected when running in Riko’s inner circles.

“You always seem to find me,” Andrew mused, swirling his off-tasting whiskey in its tumbler. “How is that, exactly?”

“You are stupid enough to think Riko cannot find you.”

Andrew chuckled to himself. “Riko cannot find anything I don’t want him to find.” He took a sip of his drink, then turned to his companion and looked him up and down. Grey, non-descript clothes and a wool trench coat, revealing nothing about his build, style, wealth, or loyalties (national or otherwise). He was as inconspicuous as ever. “I meant why is it you who always comes? You’ve hardly been effective at bringing me in.”

The man said nothing, did nothing, and Andrew almost laughed. “Who is it who’s found me this time? Alex, Alfons, Sven? I’ve lost track the number of aliases you’ve given to me to burn.”

“Call me Joseph.” Andrew scowled, pretending that barb didn’t dig under his skin. It was a stinging reminder that he knew next to nothing of the man Riko kept sending to pursue him – whereas Andrew’s life story was parceled somewhere in a neat little file folder and Joseph had read it. Probably more than once. “He won’t play this game much longer, you know. You’ll have to fight back eventually.”

“Will I?”

“You’re running out of cities to hide in and Riko knows it.”

“Does he think he’s running me into a corner?” Andrew finished off his whiskey, letting the burn of alcohol remind him to hold his tongue as much as possible. For Aaron’s sake. “You know the fun thing about traps? When they go off, it doesn’t make a difference who fell into them.”

“…You mean to turn Riko’s own plans against him?”

“I plan to let Riko orchestrate his own downfall and laugh from Hell when he joins me there.”

Joseph fell silent, a hand brought to his chin as he contemplated this new information. Andrew’s eye caught on the tattooed ‘4’ on his cheek and he almost reached to itch at the ‘5’ mirrored on his own face. Instead, he motioned for another drink, trying not to worry that he had revealed too much. Let Joseph scurry back to the Raven King with this warning. Let Riko be on his guard, let Riko grow suspicious and paranoid – whatever it took to keep Moriyama eyes following the wrong twin.

Even if it made his skin crawl to be made prey again, made his hair stand on end every time he felt eyes follow his movements behind his back.

Hell would be an eternal rest compared to this hunt.

Joseph’s ice blue eyes flickered back towards Andrew when the bartender brought over his second drink. Smoothly, Joseph plucked the drink from Andrew’s hand and took a quick sip of it himself. Setting it back he merely said, “Tastes like wine.”

Andrew peered in the glass, as though he would be able to see what Joseph meant by merely staring hard enough. Wine in whiskey…? After his own sip, he began to debate whether he was curious enough to google about Danish whiskey later on. He decided he wasn’t.

Joseph stood, again in such a way that no sound was made, even though the chair was pushed back against the floor. “When he sends Drake,” Andrew ignored the impulse to flinch, “you’ll know he’s done preparing.”

“Drake, huh?” Andrew drawled, remembering that the name would mean nothing to Aaron. “Will that be another alias of yours?”

Joseph violently gripped the back of his chair. Andrew had the crazy idea that Joseph would have preferred to seize Andrew’s own hair. Or maybe his neck. “Drake will know you when he sees you.” Carefully, Joseph leaned in close to Andrew’s ear and whispered, “Like I did, Andrew.”

Now that was surprising.

Andrew took a minute to stare Joseph down, scrutinized his every feature for recognition that must be there. Black hair, he thought, eyeing auburn waves. Merryhill Elementary. Sacramento, he remembered, memories of keeping his distance from all the other students and watching one other boy do the same.

“Abram…” He didn’t say it so much as the name simply escaped his mouth, running along his exhale the same way Abram had run all those years ago, in the middle of October. Everyone had called him William back then, but Andrew had noticed he never responded to it and had bullied him into telling his real name. Andrew had never told anyone else and he had never actually spoken the name aloud before now.

Not even six years after Merryhill, when he had spotted a boy bearing a striking resemblance to Abram that he almost called out. They were in Phoenix then, his foster family roaming some mall or other on the only vacation Andrew had ever seen as a child. He might have said hello, just to investigate, but the boy’s mother was yanking him away, scolding him for reckless behaviour and calling him Casper.

His eyes were brown then, Andrew thought, wary of the pale blue that barred Abram’s soul from him.

“You need the Queensguard,” Abram insisted, unshaken by Andrew’s remembrance. “Let Kevin help you.”

Andrew scoffed, unconvinced. If Andrew had heard the rumours of the Queensguard, an inner group rebellious to Riko’s Kingsmen, then Riko already knew about it. “Kevin is the one who needs help.”

“Why do you think he kept sending me to find you?” Abram finally relaxed his grip on the chair, seeming to relax now that their games and deceptions were done with. How long had he been waiting for Andrew to realize? Did he think he already had? “I told Kevin after the first mission that you weren’t Aaron and it only made him want you worse.”

“Should I be flattered?”

“You are of invaluable worth to Kevin, much more so than your brother is to Riko. Aaron is Riko’s grudge and his betrayer but you? You could be Kevin’s answer.”

Andrew glared and pressed a knife to Abram’s thigh in one quick move. “I am nobody’s answer.”

Abram pushed on, “Kevin’s Queensguard has all the pieces but he’s no match for Riko as a mastermind. You? You’ve already outsmarted Riko a dozen times over, toying with him on this wild goose chase. But Riko’s gonna tire of playing the game by your rules and when he sends Drake for you and discovers the truth, there will be nothing you can do to protect your brother.”

The knife dug two inches into flesh. Andrew wondered if he expected Abram to react with more than a blink of surprise. As one of Riko’s Kingsmen, Abram was probably used to knives, used to torture.

Aaron had been.

“You need bigger toys,” Abram insisted, backing away and off of Andrew’s now-bloody knife. Abram, to his credit, only shifted his weight and pulled his coat tighter, ensuring no bloodstain could be seen. “Come to Paris eight days from now. Meet Kevin yourself and see if you can do better on your own.”

And then, before Andrew said anything else, Abram laid some Euros on the bar and left, no limp apparent to any eye less discerning than Andrew’s. He wondered if he ought to demand more specific details on where exactly in Paris he was supposed to meet Kevin but he decided not to worry.

If he was in the city when the time came, Abram would be sure to find him.

It’s A Glitch

Technus: Behold Ghost boy for I have Infected your computer!!!

Danny: Heavy Sigh Okay Technus what do you want?

Technus: Evilly Laughs  I will Contaminate your computer and immobilize all functions!!  Then I shall spread your information around the internet, Invading your most personal of PRIVACY’S!!

Danny: SNORTS What are You gonna do? Spread my high score of Wizarding Castle across the globe. I don’t really Use this computer all that much anyways. You won’t find any dirt on m-

Technus: A-Ha!!! I have found a hidden secret folder of private pictures!!!

Danny: Eyes Bugs Out of head Wait N0 Hold on a-

Technus: Clicks folder

Technus: Sees a bunch of sexy Vlad Pictures Pop-up

Technus: ……….

Danny: SWEATS PERFOUSLY

Danny: I can explain….

10

Happy Valentine’s day my blurred friend @howling–fantods ! ♡ my present for you is this very very long post about my favorite pics/gifts that i’ve found on the internet of our lovely Graham Coxon  and one damono. -i know isn’t anything very special but there were things going on in my life and all this material was hided in one folder of my computer so instead of keep them for myself i decided to share them with you-  I hope you liked it!  ♥ ♡ 


Shelter from Your Storm (Part 25)

Blindspot fanfic.  Kurt decides that the best way to keep Jane safe from the CIA is to marry her. Diverges sharply from canon immediately after 2.09. (Also available on FF.net.)

(Part 1 | Part 2 |  Part 3 |  Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10| Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24)

So…. seven months ago I started a “short fic” that would “give me something to do during the winter hiatus.” Go ahead and laugh. :) So, 50k words and 25 chapters later… we’ve finally reached the end of this. THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, to all of you who have read all this way or taken the time to tell me you were enjoying it. I wouldn’t have stuck with it for this long if it wasn’t for you! 

There will probably be an epilogue at some point… I like thinking about the Wellers being happily married. It makes the inevitable Season 3 angst a little easier to take!


Shepherd was dead, but the paperwork from her case would live forever, Kurt was sure.

It had been nearly three weeks since they’d raided the farm and the silo and taken the remaining Sandstorm troops into custody. None of them had been willing to provide any information, but the FBI had seized several computers in the raid, and Patterson was steadily working through the data on them.

He read the latest report—this one detailing financial records that the team had been able to trace back to various Sandstorm holdings—and initialed his approval at the bottom.

Pellington had opted to keep the tattoo database open for the foreseeable future. His reasoning was that the corruption that had been uncovered thus far as a result of the tattoos was real and following up on similar leads was in the best interests of the American public. Kurt was sure that part of his decision was a desire to thumb his nose at the NSA who had, as expected, buried all information that might connect them to Sandstorm or Shepherd.

Keep reading

Divided: Part 5

Pairings: Bucky x Reader, Steve x Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff

Word Count: 1698

Summary: After weeks of getting to know Bucky, you realize that your feelings for him might be a little more than just friendship. But what is to be done about your relationship with Steve? 

Authors Note:  He dolls, sorry it’s taken me so long to update this story, I honestly just got invested in other things, but I am back on track and you can expect Part 6 and 7 later this week. Tagging is open, they’ve just been moved to the bottom, just ask if you want to be tagged :D

Divided: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12


Had it only been 2 months since I first met Bucky? At first you had only visited him every other week when you had a few days off. But lately you had been ducking out after missions in Europe and slipping away to Bucharest for a day.

It was easy to be around him, his new relaxed demeanor becoming more present and affluent the more time you spent together. Every time he opened the door a smile would crack his lips, making your pulse quicken as he’d beam at you, ushering you inside.


Steve shifts beside you in the bed, muttering softly in his sleep, shaking you from your thoughts, your memories. Your heart halts at his movement, glancing at the naked super soldier beside you. His sharp jaw locked tightly as his brow furrows in his sleep, his lips pouted slightly as he dreams.

How similar they look in sleep. You think, remembering back to the time you had arrived to a sleeping Bucky in his apartment. He had given you a key only a week prior, so as to give you a place of refuge after missions. You had wasted no time in trying out your new privilege, arriving unannounced to his apartment, finding him fast asleep.


You crept silently around the apartment, trying not to wake him as you settled onto the couch, waiting for him to wake up.  Suddenly he began to thrash violently, crying out in fear.

You wasted no time in springing quickly to your feet, moving beside him, bending down to touch his face, calling his name to wake him. At your contact, his metal arm sprang to life, his fingers quickly wrapping around your throat, pushing forcefully on your wind pipe as your fists beat against his chest.

At last his eyes snapped open, aggression and rage burning inside him, his hateful gaze digging into you. Your vision began to blacken before his grip finally softened, his eyes clearing as he processed your identity. He immediately released you, sitting up quickly to wrap you against his chest as you gasped for breath.

“Y/N… I’m… I’m so sorry, I didn’t…” He whimpered as your fingers gripped at his drenched t-shirt. “It’s ok. It’s not your fault.” You breathed heavily, regaining some steadiness in your heartbeat. Bucky tried to pull away from you, his arms releasing you as if he was scared of what else he might do.  

“Bucky, I’m alright, it’s ok.” “I could have killed you.” You look up at him, making eye contact as his eyes gleam with fear. “You didn’t, you never would have.” You assure him, his eyes drop from you, eying the rapidly forming bruises on your neck.

“I hurt you” he whispered quietly, you reach for his cheeks, pulling his eyes back to yours “It was an accident, and my mistake, you’ve warned me about this, about your nightmares, I should have known better. Bucky, it’s not your fault. You would never try hurt me.”

You pull forward, nesting yourself back into the comfort of his chest. You felt his body tense beneath you before finally relaxing, giving into your contact as his arms wrap lovingly around you, cradling you to his chest.


“Hey, where’s your head at?” Steve’s sleepy voice pulls you from your memories as he rolls over to face you, propping his head up on one hand. You look at him, not sure how to answer, thinking of the weeks of secrets you’ve been hiding from him. Feeling the constant guilt that has been growing inside you, eating you alive.

And yet here you were, in his bed once again, using him to satisfy your needs, and then… and then laying here reminiscing about Bucky… About his best friend. About how his hands felt sliding against your skin… “Y/N?” Steve asks, slightly worried, “I… I don’t know… I guess I just kind of zoned out.” You mutter quickly, shaking your head slightly.

He rolls forward pressing his body on you slightly as he places a kiss against your pursed lips, your stomach tenses with anxiety, feeling odd at his touch, recoiling from his affection. After weeks of lying how can I just lay here using his affection… I’m monstrous.

You look in his eyes as he pulls away, seeing his adoration of you, knowing that he had fallen and you were nowhere to catch him, knowing that your own eyes held nothing but indifference and friendly affection.

“Are you worried about Rumlow… we’ve been tracking him… we’ll find him soon and then this Crossbones threat will finally be over.” Steve laughs, rolling on his back and folding his arms up behind his head. “Thank god you found that control room, it’s made it so much easier to track Crossbones now that we know it’s Rumlow.”

Lies. Just another lie. In truth it wasn’t a control room, but Bucky. He had tracked Rumlow after escaping D.C. Keeping track of his former captor to prevent being recaptured himself. He had seen Rumlow grow into another head of hydra, adopting the alias of Crossbones. And he had told you all this weeks ago, providing you with much needed intel for your team.

“Yeah, glad I could help.” You mutter, sitting up in the bed and placing your feet on the floor as you reach for your clothes beside you. “Baby? What’s wrong?” You wince at the pet name, slipping quickly from Steve’s hands as they grasp for you. You rise to your feet, pulling on your sweatshirt in the process, the undeniable warmth of the black hoodie calming your nerves as you steel yourself for what you have to do.

“Listen… I think we should take a break.” You busy yourself pulling on your jeans, unable to look at Steve as you feel his gaze burn into you. “What do you mean?” He asks slowly, his words precise as he fights to steady his voice.

“I mean that I think we should stop sleeping together.” You look at him, knowing that you had to be clear, it was the only way to be fair to him. As your eyes make contact with his you feel your stomach clench, his face painted with sadness and panic.

“Why? I don’t understand…” he starts, “I’m just not as into it anymore, I don’t want to waste your time, and I don’t want to hurt you.” He rises from the bed quickly, pulling on his boxers and grabbing a long sleeve shirt, “You’re not wasting my time, I want to be with you,” He moves swiftly around the bed, coming to stand in front of you as he wraps his arms around your waist.

“I care about you; I want to be with you.” He pleads searching your face for an explanation, you stare back blankly, your face devoid of emotion. “I’m sorry Steve, I just don’t feel the same way.” You look away, pushing against his chest in an attempt to dislodge yourself from his grip. “So what? That’s it? You’re just done with me? You don’t feel anything for me then?”

Your eyes fill with tears at his words, feeling the sting of his accusation as the pain radiates through his voice. “I care about you Steve. I just think we make better friends. I told you that this is where I was, you knew what you were signing up for, so don’t get mad at me and act like I lied to you. You’re a big boy Rogers, you knew what this was.”

You yell back at him, growing defensive as your guilt swells inside of you. “You’re right.” He whispers, looking down to the ground, his face pained as he squeezes his eyes closed, his arms crossing across his chest. “I should have known. But god, Y/N, I hoped. I prayed you were going to be different, I wanted so badly for you to be different.”

“That’s the problem Cap, you didn’t really want me,” You let a tear roll down your face at the realization, “You wished so badly for me to be what you wanted, you forgot who I actually am.” You whisper, the truth of your own words burning in your chest.

“You’re right.” He repeats again, shaking his head as his gaze flicks back up to you, disappointment evident in his eyes, “I should have known better than to fall for a scorpion.” You inhaled sharply as he spat his words at you, his message falling like a blow to the stomach.

You open your mouth to respond, only to be cut off by a sharp knock on the door as it swung open, Sam busting in. He halts only for a moment in his crusade, taking in your tear stained, disheveled appearance and Steve’s defensive stance.

“Cap, we’ve found Rumlow, he’s in Lagos, Nigeria.” Steve stares at Sam as he hands him a folder. You stand there, your arms wrapped around yourself as Steve leafs through the folder. He takes a deep breath as he hands the folder back to Sam, starting out of the room, turning back briefly to face you.

“You’ve made your desires very clear Y/N. I think we’re done here.” He looks at you as if he is looking straight through you, his lips pursed as he tenses his jaw, hiding his emotions. You feel as if a knife has been driven into your stomach, feeling waves of guilt crash over you as you realize the damage you have done to your best friend.

“Steve, please…” you start but he interrupts you. “We will depart for Lagos this evening; I suggest you go get ready.” And with that he turns away, departing quickly out the door, Sam nervously following behind him, leaving you alone in the room.

Your hand rises to your mouth stifling a sob as you sit back onto the bed, pulling your knees up to your chest. You take a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent on the sweatshirt… Bucky.

You curl into the sweatshirt, crying, allowing yourself to imagine Bucky’s arms tight around you once more, cradling you to his chest.

Part 6

Tags: @imhereforbvcky @heismyhunter @iamtal @nickel5socks @ohmygoshbucky @person0thats0not0a0people0person @spacegaystrashcompactor @creideamhgradochas @shamvictoria11 @awclintno @discophony @umm-sorry @imheretomarvel

anonymous asked:

Headcanon with bat boys with their s/o always procrastinating and always being stressed out and doing it at the last moment. Please and thanks!

this one hits close to home. I, Brianna lastname, am a serial procrastinator

  • You were always like this
  • Since elementary school you would ‘forget’ to tell Bruce about your home projects
  • middle school you would pretend to not have homework until you were failing then rush the rest of the semester to get an F to a B at least
  • That’s when the boys knew you had a problem
  • Since your freshman year of high school the batboys had made a system to try to keep you from procrastinating
  • As soon s you got home, Dick would search your folders for homework as you complained loudly
  • If he found any, you were sent to Jason’s room where he would force you to focus until you finished your work 
  • His methods included taking your phone and hiding it, turning your head back to your work if you looked around and playing classical music 
  • If you had to write a paper you were pushed off to Tim
  • He would lock all of his browsers except for the one with your paper on it and would watch you like a hawk to help you with grammar
  • You never got shoved off to Damian because he was normally right next to you
  • he hated school too

Did you like this headcannon? Want one of your own?  Check out Super-Shield’s 700 follower celebration!

Edit: I ACCIDENTALLY JUST GLOSSED OVER THIS AND DIDN’T EVEN NOTICE THE S/O PART SO THIS IS A BATSIS FIC IM SOSOSOSO SORRY

Taehyun as your boyfriend (WINNER)

This series will be open for members of ANY of the bands I write about (list found here). Hope you guys enjoy! [Previous: Bobby]

  • He’d be the kind to not talk to you for a couple days then not leave your side for a week
  • Definitely a bit moody, but once you figure him out, you’ll be the only person he wants by his side when he feels overwhelmed
  • Massive cuddler, and he will not let you leave the bed in the morning.
  • He definitely values someone he can stay up till whenever talking to. Interesting conversations while having drinks at your place > going out to clubs 
  • He genuinely wouldn’t care what language you speak, and would make such as effort to learn your native language and use it with you.
  • Number one way to drive him crazy? Tight black clothing
  • Definitely would value an independent person. He doesn’t just want to be in an “oppa” role, he wants to feel like you can take care of him too when he needs it.
  • His competitive ass would be awful during board game night but that wouldn’t stop the two of you from having it every week (tbh you’d probably be just as bad as him)
  • He’d show up at any event you had. Even the smallest things, if it’s a big deal to you, or something you’ve worked for… he’s there. If he can’t make it cause of scheduling, get ready for a ridiculous amount of flowers waiting for you when you get home.
  • He’d send random pictures of artwork, songs, etc to you at random times without any context just cause he found it beautiful and it made him think of you.
  • Being able to sit comfortably in silence together
  • Ugly snapchat selfies… and you bet your ass you both have entire folders of each other’s ugly pics saved
  • Slow dancing while singing the song that’s playing softly in your ear
  • He wouldn’t announce he was in a relationship immediately, but he wouldn’t hide tagging you in things on social media or commenting on stuff. Kind of the “let people think what they want” attitude
  • The most ridiculous inside jokes, the kind of relationship where you can just look at each other and start laughing
  • He’d definitely want to move in together a little on the early side, just cause once he found someone he loves and truly feels comfortable around, he wouldn’t waste any time locking it down.
  • Hikes, walks on the beach, exploring new cities together
  • While he might be quiet at times, and put too much pressure on himself, he would never let you go a day without reminding you he loves you, and telling you how important you are to him
[USUK] Coral and Gloss

“L-Liz, what are you up to?” Elizabetha just pulled Arthur onto his chair during the their lunch break. They just came back from and still have some time left to talk to each other when the beta mentioned about her new makeup products. She asked Arthur to be her model and try out the products on his face to which the omega refused profusely until he was sat onto his office chair forcefully.

“Please. This will be quick.” She would rather menacingly to which the other frowned. You see, Arthur is an omega who’s not into makeup. Hell, he does not even know how to do is own face or even what the products are called. A simple face powder is all he needed. Well, that’s what he convinced himself.

Arthur looked at pictures and magazines of people who looked perfect in to look at. Gorgeous, face of beauty people and he long convinced himself that he is not one of them.

Take his eyebrows into account. He’d been made fun of during his youth and his freckles which looked like grime on his face. Definitely not attractive to look at.

Elizabetha pulled out her makeup pouch which really shouldn’t be a pouch because it’s loaded with products and various brushes.

She lined up her brushes and started to peel off the plastic out of her new products.

“How am I going to make sure that you are not making me turn into a silly clown?” He raised his brown as he pulled out his trash bin and put it in between him and Elizabetha. The beta muttered an excited ‘thank you’ and threw in the small wrappers.

“Don’t be silly! Do you see any funny coloured palette?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Clearly, his face says that he is unfamiliar with the term.

“Oh, Arthur. Just trust me, okay? I’ll make you prettier in a few!” She picked her brush.

“I’m not pretty, Liz, you know that…” He whispered, mostly to himself but Elizabetha hushed him and told him to settle in.

“I love your brows, if that’s what you’re thinking.” She nudged Arthur gently on the shoulder. He just frowned when he felt the touch of brush on his face. He decided to just close his eyes and let her friend do what she wants. He can always rinse his face after.

With his sense of sight turned into nothingness and the gentle touch of Elizabetha’s brush to his face, his thoughts began to drift. His thoughts asked him Why? Why did he exactly agreed to be a colouring book for his beta friend? What for? The other part of his mind unhelpfully supplied that he did this to impress a certain someone.

Someone who’s working at the same floor as his.

Someone who he had talked for several occasion but never had a full, civil conversation before.

Someone who he tipsily admitted to having a 'small crush’ to Elizabetha, in which the other squealed.

That certain someone having a silky blonde hair shining whenever the sun hits it. Perfect blue eyes behind smart looking glasses. A rather fit physique even in that sloppy excuse of a suit and a gorgeous smile that every toothpaste ad needs.

Gods! Why does he have to be perfect?

Why does Alfred F. Jones have to be perfect?!

It’s truly frustrating that Arthur’s mind acts like a lovesick-ed school girl whenever the alpha is around but he never acted upon it. No. Never. He knew that Alfred is out of his league, many ways out of his bloody league.

He can feel some tapping on his cheek to which he opened his eyes and Liz gave his a gentle smile. “Are you done with your clown painting?” He asked in a friendly tone, smiling a bit as the other let out a laugh.

“Arthur, have some confidence, will you?” She dabbed more blush on his cheek. “No, I am not done yet.” She tapped his nose with the brush and pulled out a tube of some sort of clear liquid.

“What’s that?” He looked at it as the beta uncapped the tube.

“Lip gloss! You already have healthy pink lips but let’s make it more eye-catching, okay?” She told Arthur to open his mouth a bit and she applied the gloss on the omega’s lips. He rubbed his lips together to even out the application.

“Wow.” Elizabetha said, even going to the length of wiping a tear on her right eye and sniffling.

“W-what?” He asked self-consciously.  "Do I look ugly?“ He asked as he looked around his desk to find a mirror to which he find none. He forgot, he don’t have the habit of bringing mirrors.

"Here.” The beta giggled, giving the mirror to the other. He looked at himself.

“H-how much makeup did you put in my face?” He traced his cheek. There’s been some nice blush on top of his freckles. He looked at his brows and now it looked neat, brushed up. His lips looked healthy and youthful.

Elizabetha giggled as she tidy up her things. Really, Arthur could be pretty stubborn at things like this. She looked at her omega friend as the other stared at his reflection. “You know, I did not pt that much.” She’s proud of her work.

“R-really?” The other looked shocked, searching the other’s eyes for hints of playfulness but found none. The other just nodded as Arthur looked again at his reflection.

A few more rustling and a zipped pouch later, he heard Elizabetha spoke again.

“Isn’t he pretty, Alfred?” The beta did not even hide the excitement in her voice. Arthur jolted from her seat to look at the pair. His face starting to heat up and his eyes to water.

There, standing with a stack of folder-ed documents is Alfred, who at the moment seemed to be frozen to place.

“I-I, yeah, pretty. You look pretty. Beautiful even!” He stammered as his cheeks grew red. Elizabetha smiled wildly as she slowly retreat at the sidelines.

“T-thank you.” She put down the mirror and a small silence occurred.

He cleared his throat. “I-Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. Jones?” He asked politely while trying to look the other in the eye and failing to do so. Alfred snapped out of his daze and clumsily gave the Arthur the papers.

“Ah-yeah, here are the documents you requested yesterday.” The omega reached for it, almost touching hands with the alpha. They moved quickly and clumsily.

“Thank you. Will that be all?” He started to look at the documents, thinking that Alfred just nodded and left but he spoke.

“Yes, but-” Alfred’s voice grew silent and Arthur looked at him. He hummed to tell the other to continue.

“You know, you looked really pretty today and I’m just wondering if you wanna grab some dinner later?” He quickly said as he rubbed the back of his neck and avoiding looking at Arthur. The omega swear his face has never been this hot before. He just stared to the alpha.

Did he just invite me to dinner? His head starting to ask his in repeat until the alpha cleared his throat and waiting for his response.

“A-ah, yes. That would be lovely.” He just hoped that it did not sound eager.

“Sweet! I’ll wait for you, so we can go to the place together, yeah?” He smiled softly at the other.

“Yes.” Arthur smiled at him. Pouring his adoration to that one smile.

The alpha waved at him while he walked backwards until they cannot Alfred turned a corner. Barely seeing the not-so-small fist pump he did.

The omega’s phone vibrated, Elizabetha sent a message.

From: Elizabetha H.

Tell me the details later, okay?

P.S. You should definitely treat me!

He can clearly hear her voice while reading her text. Now that he noticed it, Liz had been gone when Alfred and him started conversing.

He decided not t reply due to the lack of witty comeback in his mind.

I guess I have to ask Liz for some tips from now on. He thought as he put down his phone. He resumed to his work because the faster he finished, the faster he’ll be on his dinner with Alfred.

END

Smol usuk interaction.