if he looked at me like that i'd probably pass out

Harry Styles. Thats who you were paired with on the biggest project for your class. Cocky, smug, king of laziness, frat boy Harry Styles. You weren’t sure how he even passed classes because it seems he always did the minimal amount of work, if that. It was probably that charm of his. As much as you loathed him, you had to admit that boy had some good looks and charm helping him float through college.

“Like somethin you see love?” Harry’s remark brought you back to reality. You didn’t realize but while you were in thought about how annoying but good looking Harry was, you had been staring at him. Him catching you caused you a blush to form upon your cheeks. You hoped he didn’t see that because god knows he’d enjoy that and never let you live it down.

You rolled your eyes at him and scoffed “As if Styles. I wasn’t even staring at you, I was zoned out thinking about our project we should be working on” You watched as he chuckled Ann’s proceeded to smirk that god damn Harry Styles smirk at you.

“I was thinking since you’re so smart and nerdy that you could do most of it and I will present it. Ya know since people actually enjoy it when I talk.” He flashed you a smile, set back and propped his feet up on your chair and just shrugged.

It took all you had not to scream at him. You could feel your cheeks heating up and not with a blush this time, no, with rage. It always happened when you got really mad. You pushed his feet off your chair and took a deep breath.

“If you think you’re gonna charm your way out of doing your part for this project like you always do you are dead wrong Styles. I will not do this on my own” You slammed your pen down on your notebook, crossed your arms and glared at him.

“Wait wha was that, ya think I’m charming?” Harry wore another smug look. You didn’t think that boy knew any other look. He was always thinking everyone found him so hot, and so charming. Really all you found him was irritating as hell. Well maybe a little easy on the eyes as well. But you’d never let him know that.

“Seriously?! That’s what you chose to focus on? Out of everything I said?! God you push my buttons” you sighed and sat up straight and looked him in the eye. “Look Harry, this project is a huge part of our grade. I cannot do all the work, and if you don’t do your part half isn’t done and that’s an F. School and grades may not matter much to you, but it does to me” Your voice got weaker and more quiet as you finished speaking. “We all can’t not give a shit and fly by with our good looks and charm.” You mumbled to yourself.

“Hey, I’m sorry okay? I didn’t realize how much this mattered to ya. I know I can be cocky asshole sometimes,” you rolled your eyes and he flashed you a quick smile, “but I didn’t mean to get ya all upset. To be honest yeah school isn’t my thing, but I don’t want that to affect your grades. I’ll do my part, promise.”

Harry’s voice sounded genuine, and full of compassion. Not his typical smug tone of voice with his signature smirk. Matter of fact, he wasn’t smirking, he genuinely looked like he had meant what he said and actually cared. He stuck his pinky out at you, “pinky promise.”

You couldn’t help but smile a bit at that “Alright Styles, pinky promise. But break your promise, I break your pinky.” You took his pinky with yours and made the promise.

“Oh love, I would never want your gorgeous self to break my pinky, it’d break my heart” Harry caught your eye and winked. You hid your face in your hair so he didn’t dare see the blush and small smile his words had caused. This was going to be an interesting and long project together.

anonymous asked:

I'd love some angst with happy ending for Bellarke: "we have a kid that you don't know about, oh shit....we meet again and that's your son".

thanks for the prompt, nonny! i hope it delivers on the angst, it’s not my usual MO (the happy ending definitely is though)


“Latte for Bellamy.”

Clarke’s head snaps up embarrassingly quickly. It’s not a common name, Bellamy, and while there’s every chance in the world it isn’t him, she can’t bring herself to believe it won’t be.

And then, of course, it is him. A little bit neater than when they were in high school, a little bit less cocky swagger and more genuine self-confidence in the way he carries himself, but it’s undeniably Bellamy Blake. Her– She doesn’t even know where to begin explaining who he is to her.

She’s staring, her own coffee cup hovering halfway to her mouth, and when he turns around his gaze is drawn to hers like a magnet. Like it always used to be.

He freezes.

And then a grin overtakes his face, brighter than anything she’s ever seen, and wow he grew up well.


She’s out of her seat and wrapped up in his arms before she even registers moving, but he’s clutching her tightly, firm and warm and solid and here.

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Response to That "Decepticons Helping Humans in Rescue Bots" AU thing
  • Nurse Darby: Starscream... what do you have in your hands?
  • [Starscream shows what's behind his back]
  • Human: WAUAUUGHH!!!
  • Nurse Darby: Starscream! Where did you-- put him down! Down!!!
  • [Starscream starts to open his claws so the human drops to the floor]
  • Nurse Darby: Gently...!
  • Starscream: But he's squirming..!
  • Nurse Darby: You heard me!
  • Human: HUAAUUUGH!
  • Starscream: [cringe] I can hear HIM too.
  • [Starscream gently places human on ground, who scrambles away behind June]
  • Human: That... that HUGE freaky robot TRASHED my lawnmower!
  • Starscream: Yehk. Is that what you call it? Looked more like an abomination to me. Doesn't matter, it's scrap now.
  • Nurse Darby: Starscream! Why on Earth did you abduct this man and destroy his lawnmower?
  • Starscream: While I was making my rounds, I saw this human and his machine on a patch of grass. But upon my second pass, he was driving down the road! He couldn't have been going more than 5 miles per hour, however LOCAL speed signs that were CLEARLY posted indicated 25 miles per hour. He was obstructing the flow of traffic, and placing himself and OTHER humans in a potentially hazardous situation! It was so incredibly foolish I just KNEW I had to intervene.
  • Nurse Darby: ... Were you really driving a lawnmower on the road?
  • Human: W-well my next job was only like a mile away!
  • Nurse Darby: That's still a decent amount of time to clog up the road, sir. Normally, if a cop saw you, they would probably give you a ticket. Though I really wouldn't know. Here, let me see that scratch...
  • [Knock Out comes in]
  • Knock Out: Oh. It's YOU. The human in that slow-moving contraption.
  • Nurse Darby: So is this a typical thing for you, or what? I swear. Don't you have a truck you can put that thing in?
  • Human: Well its not like I'd need to any more, cuz HE totalled my mower!
  • Knock Out: Did you really?
  • [Starscream shows what's in his OTHER hand]
  • Knock Out: [whistles] Yeah, I can't fix that.
  • Nurse Darby: [sighs] Starscream, did you REALLY have to destroy it?
  • Starscream: [scoff] When HE didn't heed my warnings to get off the road, I knew I would have to use force--
  • Human: --I always wear ear protection when I mow!
  • Starscream: -- but then, THIS hunk of scrap exploded! Disgusting, green, organic mush rained down upon me, staining my paint, streaking my windows, squishing between even the tiniest of gears...
  • Knock Out: [scandalized gasp]
  • Starscream: It even smeared all over my landing gear... Oh, it'll take a WEEK to get the stuff out of my vents!
  • Knock Out: He's right you know. I'll pencil you in right before tomorrow's 2nd shift.
  • Human: What about my mower?!
  • Nurse Darby: I don't get paid enough for this...
when your town's urban legends kinda suck
  • Rebellious Teen: My dad used to tell me this legend about a guy from around these parts who wore a pig-mask and was always carrying a baseball bat. He said that if you saw him, he would give you two riddles. If you got one right, he'd whack you with his bat and chase you off. If you got both right, he'd give you anything you desire. And if you get both wrong, well, you'd become a part of his mask.
  • Lethargic Teen: Wow, so was he like magical?
  • Rebellious Teen: I don't know.
  • Lethargic Teen: I mean, he could give you anything you desire so he has to be kinda magical.
  • Rebellious Teen: That's pretty much implied.
  • Lethargic Teen: Then why'd you say you don't know?
  • Rebellious Teen: I don't know.
  • Lethargic Teen: Also, does making you a part of his mask mean that he like shrinks you down so you're a very tiny person and he tapes you to the mask? Or is it more grisly in that he kills you and takes a patch of your skin to be a part of his mask?
  • Rebellious Teen: I don't know. We didn't come out here to talk about the logistics of this dude. We're here to see if he's real.
  • Lethargic Teen: *yawns* But, he's probably not real.
  • Rebellious Teen: Ugh! I know he's probably not real, but it's creepy and fun to think he is. Have you ever heard of fun?
  • Lethargic Teen: If I wanted to have creepy fun, I'd be at home playing Resident Evil which I much prefer to standing out here in these smelly woods.
  • Rebellious Teen: Can you chill for like two seconds and maybe enjoy your time out instead of being so damn pedantic?
  • Lethargic Teen: I don't even know what pedantic means. I'm legitimately too dumb to know.
  • *sound of footsteps on grass*
  • Rebellious Teen: Shit! Hide! *pushes lethargic teen beneath the bushes and peaks out to see who's coming*
  • Lethargic Teen: It sucks down here.
  • Rebellious Teen: *whispering* Shut the fuck up.
  • Lethargic Teen: You have a fat ass. Have we known each other for long enough that I can casually call your ass fat in a non-sexual way. Because you have a really fat ass and I'm only just noticing now.
  • Rebellious Teen: If you don't shut the fuck up right now, I'm going to literally choke you to death. But thanks. My ass is fat.
  • Pig-Mask: *walks by dragging a baseball bat attached to a leash behind him*
  • Rebellious Teen: Oh, fuck. He's real.
  • Lethargic Teen: It's probably just some guy dressed like him.
  • Rebellious Teen: I'm going to confront him!
  • Lethargic Teen: You're gonna get killed maybe. I don't know.
  • Rebellious Teen: *hops out of the bushes* Hey, pig-mask!
  • Pig-Mask: *slightly glances behind him* ...Oh, bother.
  • Rebellious Teen: I know all about you. So... uhh...
  • Pig-Mask: Can we just get this over with. I want to go home.
  • Rebellious Teen: Uhm.
  • Lethargic Teen: *crawls out of the bushes*
  • Rebellious Teen: What do I do?
  • Lethargic Teen: Iunno. You're the one who knows the legend.
  • Rebellious Teen: Yeah, but the legend doesn't really say how you're supposed to go about confronting the guy.
  • Pig-Mask: Oh yeah, I'm supposed to ask you guys two questions.
  • Lethargic Teen: Two questions each?
  • Pig-Mask: I'm really tired so you guys can share two. One for each of you.
  • Rebellious Teen: I'm fucking fired-up! Shoot those damn riddles at me! I don't care! I'm not afraid of you!
  • Pig-Mask: Please don't yetll. Here is my first riddle: Who is the uhh... what is... uhm... what day is it?
  • Lethargic Teen: Wednesday.
  • Pig-Mask: Hmm... is that right? *looks down at baseball bat* Is today Wednesday?
  • Baseball Bat: *wan* *wan*!
  • Pig-Mask: Yeah, today's Wednesday. Congratulations you got it right.
  • Lethargic Teen: That wasn't a riddle.
  • Rebellious Teen: Seriously, that was just a super easy question.
  • Pig-Mask: Oh, bother... I guess your second test will have to be a riddle. Oh, bother. Let me get out my riddle book. *digs in his pants* Bother, bother, bother, bother... here we go.
  • Pig-Mask: *opens his tiny book* Okay, so... this one's not good. This one is kind of racist. I don't think this one is in English. Whatever. *tosses book* Here is your second riddle. What day is it?
  • Rebellious Teen: You asked that already!
  • Pig-Mask: Yeah, I did. Sorry... I guess. *sighs*
  • Lethargic Teen: *yawn* This guys sucks.
  • Rebellious Teen: Yeah, dude! You really fucking suck!
  • Pig-Mask: Sorry, my dad was a lot cooler. I have depression and anxiety and stuff. I haven't really been in any sort of mood recently, y'know. Feels like nothing even matters anymore.
  • Rebellious Teen: It really was a waste of time coming out here. Come on. Let's go home.
  • Lethargic Teen: Finally, can you carry me there?
  • Rebellious Teen: Sure, hop in my arms.
  • Lethargic Teen: *hops on up and smooches rebellious teen right on the cheeks* I'm going to pass out in your arms now. *goes limp*
  • Rebellious Teen: Goddamn, you're heavy. Why did I agree to do this? *waddles away*
  • Pig-Mask: Ah, their relationship is so wholesome. I wonder what it feels like to carry another human?
  • Baseball Bat: *wan* *wan*!
  • Pig-Mask: No, like a living human. Also, since when can you bark like a dog and stuff.
  • Baseball Bat: *gone*
  • Pig-Mask: Oh, you weren't real. *cocks head to the side* I wonder where I got this leash from? Just another of the mysteries of the world, I guess.

Adrinette Month Day 12: Childhood Friends

Yes, I know this is really late. (you know, I do cover first kiss, reveal, and proposal in this though, soooo does that count as being ahead?) Apparently it takes me a week to finish a one-shot. But hey, I think I actually managed to write some fluff for once so I’m happy.



They were four years old when she first met him.

She watched as he tugged a pretty lady into the bakery, a smile lighting up his entire face and making his eyes shine, his hair tousled from the summer breeze. Marinette was mesmerized by that smile, by those eyes, by the golden glint of his hair. The boy looked like a drop of sunlight that had landed on Earth and was delighted by the people who lived there.

The pretty lady that must’ve been the boy’s mom struck up a conversation with her own mom, talking about needing things for something called a gala. The boy wandered from his mom’s side, gawking at the few handcrafted pastries displayed at his eye level. He stopped by a cake that had been baked and frosted to look like a cat and pressed his small hands against the glass. Marinette left her spot from behind the counter and tapped the boy on the shoulder.

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amethystfairy1  asked:

For Hanamiya Makoto. I'd love to see a scenario where Mako is super shy and awkward when it comes to relationships, but is like the sweetest boyfriend. She's never been allowed to come to any games. To surprise him, she goes to one, and sees his play. She's disgusted and leaves him though he's devastated. Then Mako's trying to clean up his act for her with a ton of hilarious attempts at showing her he's sorry! Bonus points for Seirin shocked he's gone clean, and got a hot girlfriend XD

Hi, nice to see you here! ♡ I altered this so it would fit his personality… Hanamiya just really, really doesn’t fit with sweet and hilarious all that much. Nevertheless, this was fun. For me. ∠( ᐛ 」∠)_

Holy fuck, did this one get long… over 4K words? Whaaaaat????

Phone - check.

Purse - check.

Train pass - check.

Earphones - check.

You finished running down your list, tied your shoes, locked the door, and set off. You had a big plan for today: you were going to surprise Hanamiya by coming to his game for the first time and possibly cheer on his team. 

Up until now, Hanamiya always found some excuse not just to keep you from watching him play, but even from meeting his teammates. 

It sounded to you like he was shy about it, or maybe he was afraid he’d get too distracted if he knew you were there to witness the match, so naturally your plan was to avoid being spotted by him for at least the majority of the game. You knew that his team was strong and brought home significantly more wins than losses, so depending on the score perhaps you could make yourself noticeable when the point gap was big enough for their advantage. Just in case Hanamiya actually could get that much distracted.

You sincerely doubted that, though. While Hanamiya cared about you in his own weird, slightly twisted, slightly reluctant, slightly clueless, sometimes even sweet sort of way, he wasn’t someone who could get distracted too easily.

As such, half an hour later you stepped out of the train and full of excitement you headed for the gymnasium. He had told you that the closest upcoming game should be interesting, particularly because of the team they were playing, so you thought that maybe the opponents had an unusual style, or maybe they were past friends with Hanamiya, or maybe they wouldn’t play fair. 

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ti-re-elintes  asked:

So your tags fuckin kill me, especially the ones about Eskimo kisses. Can u elaborate on Isak x Even Eskimo kisses and why they make you all fuzzy? I'd love to hear your thoughts


Okay I’ve had this ask sitting in my inbox for a couple of days, because, I really wanna commit myself 100% to when I answer this, and answer it as … fully as I can, because, yes, you’re right. Their eskimo kisses make me all fuzzy. They’re probably my most favourite thing about them. This may get long? But urm … yeah, I need to explain.

Eskimo kissing, honestly, is normally, majority of the times, passed off as “just another trivial act of affection and love”, in most cases. It’s given a moment of appreciation where people go “AWW!! That’s cute!!”, and then … that’s it. You move on. It’s never really dwelled upon that much. In short, what I mean to say is, eskimo kissing is super underrated. 

But Even and Isak make it … much, MUCH more than that. They have it be this constant running theme between them, one that never drops midway through the season once they become more sexually/physically close. It remains. It stays. It sticks. Even until the very, very last scene of the season, it stays. 

Now, I don’t know if … it was scripted? Or if Henrik and Tarjei simply improvised it, but … once they had their very first, proper, eskimo kiss in episode 5, where Even and Isak spend the whole weekend in bed, after their first kiss, it’s been an ongoing Thing. Never edited out. Always being there, incorporated. 

What Even and Isak bring into their eskimo kisses is intimacy. Intimacy on a whole other level.  And it’s amazing, just how they showed that level of intimacy right from episode 5, when they’re both lying in bed that weekend, and they become, for the first time, physically close to one another. It instantly becomes so much more intimate, when Isak rubs his nose against Even’s, and Even waits to see what Isak is doing, whilst Isak is simply allowing him to bask in that feeling of being in the arms of a boy. In the arms of THAT boy that he’s felt so MUCH for. In the arms of Even. And Even smiles. He SMILES when he realises what Isak is doing, because … he’s already head over heels for Isak, but here is this boy, who just wants the smallest of touches, the simple feeling of pleasure you get when you are this close to someone you’ve been crushing on for so long, that you can finally lie in bed and brush noses, and the outside world doesn’t matter. And Even reciprocates it back. That, yeah, I feel that too, Isak. I feel that too. 

Yes, it’s cute. Yes, it’s adorable. But I find it also being EXTREMELY intimate. In fact, even more intimate than their actual kisses. Why? Because their eskimo kisses aren’t just used “when they kiss”, they don’t just eskimo kiss then. They eskimo kiss in other times too: in times where they want to comfort each other, or start a conversation with each other. It’s their direct, first point of contact. 

Case in point: In episode 5, before Even asks Isak “So, what do you think your parents would say if we began dating?”, there’s a small, private, intimate moment between them 2, where Even brushes his nose against Isak’s, then bites his bottom lip and looks down, in apprehension for what he’s about to ask Isak (because he KNOWS how big of a deal this is to Isak and him). Isak senses that Even’s … nervous … and Isak then brushes his nose against Even’s. And that’s when Even works up the courage and takes a breath in, and asks Isak the question. 

And again, in episode 8, when Isak says “Only you can feel what you feel”, Even instantly brushes his nose against Isak, again, comforting him, making it a point of contact, before he tells Isak, “And I haven’t felt anything, quite like this, ever.” It’s SO … private. JUST for them. 

Again, in O Helga Natt, what’s the FIRST thing they do? Isak walks up to Even, and he brushes his nose against Even’s, and then traces his nose against Even’s cheek. It’s SO fucking intimate. It’s SUCH a private moment. It’s literally … their first point of contact and communication. No words, just a way of them telling each other, “Hey, we don’t have to speak, but I’m here, ready to listen, when you’re ready to talk. In the meantime, let’s do something we’re both familiar with.”, and they brush their noses against one another.

In episode 10, during Minutt for Minutt, that last bit, where Isak brushes his nose against Even’s. It’s a sign of Comfort. Warmth. Safety. Intimacy. It’s so much more than just being “another physical symbol of love”, it speaks it’s own language. And Even’s deep long breaths that you can hear him take during that bit show him wanting to feel safe, and feeling safe, feeling somewhat content that he has Isak there, and that he’s taking in all this familiarity, this warmth, that Isak’s giving him. 

Even in the last scene of the season, before Sana walks in on them, AGAIN, there is this CONSCIOUS moment, where they both eskimo kiss. But here, it’s Even now providing Isak with some courage, with some calm, because even though Isak said to Even that he doesn’t find it awkward meeting Even’s Mum, so as long as Even’s smiling, and wearing clothes, that things will be chill then, Even still knows just how frightened Isak was that night when Even had his episode. Even can still feel the after effects, hear it in the way Isak’s voice became so serious, even if he was saying it light heartedly. And it’s Even that says, “I promise I’ll wear clothes”, but it’s so much more than that? That’s Even saying to Isak that, I know somedays it’s won’t be easy, and I’m sorry that I scared you as much as I did, but know that … I do love you. Know that, I’m still me. Know that, when you get scared, I can feel it. Know that, I want to soothe your worries and comfort you too, just like how you do with me. We can be that for each other. And then Even goes ahead and brushes his nose against Isak’s, for good measure, a visual, physical measure, to once again show that their eskimo kisses are a sign of comfort. It’s intimate. So intimate, that Sana walks in on them doing THAT, instead of having her walk in on them kissing. They could have EASILY shown Sana walk in on them kissing, but she didn’t. Why? Because their eskimo kisses ARE that much more intimate, and she walked in on THAT, and her fond laughter shows that she too realised she walked in on a very private moment between them 2.

And, well, if that doesn’t make me feel all fuzzy, and warm, and safe … then what will?

anonymous asked:

Hello~ (you probably know who this is haha) I'd like to request a todoroki scenario? Like a medieval AU where female s/o is a princess and her older sister gets all the attention and is favored by s/o's parents? S/o is left out and doesn't feel special until she meets todoroki. Sorry if that's too much!

Hi! You can kick my slow ass because I have a vague idea of who you are but I’m not pretty sure! XD And of course this isn’t too much (I LOVE LOVE LOVE Medieval AUs with passion

Word count: 1302.

Todoroki Shōto:

It had always been the same, [Name] should be used to it already: she would always be their second choice. It was always her, [Sister Name], who caught all the attention to herself, leaving the poor young princess empty and lonely.

The first few years of her life, she remembered playing with her sister often; she always wore a soothing and pleasant smile, and was gentle with her words and gestures. Back then, when [Name] was only three years old, she had seen her sister but as an untouchable angel.

Years passed by and, with them, duties and responsibilities started to drown both princesses; and, despite their age gap being merely a year, the difference seemed to grow into an abysm as [Name] grew older, and became aware of her situation.

She wasn’t loved. She wasn’t loved by Their Majesties, as they hadn’t once shown a spark of interest in her achievements, which were, by no means, poor. Her sister had always been praised for her progress in her studies and manners, yet when poor [Name] learnt by heart all the territories of their kingdom, or when she made use of the silverware flawlessly, her parents’ eyes would be set on her sister.

Not on her. Never on her.

But what hurt the most, what felt like a jar of cold water upon her when she realized, was that not even her gentle sister, the firstborn, Her Royal Highness, loved her.

[Name] was now nine years old and [Sister Name], a year older, had been finally assigned a knight to protect her. The first time [Name] had seen the man stand in his full armored glory, she had felt so small, almost as if she had shrunken into nothing; he was intimidating, powerful, just what his sister needed.

She needed to survive. She would be the Queen of some mighty country, if not theirs, one day. [Sister Name].

Not [Name].

A year passed, and the younger sister was now a lady, like her sister was the year before her and still was. Silky dresses, heavy make-up and extravagant hairstyles which only gave her headaches, and heartaches upon realizing her sister was even more stunning than she was.

She should just give up seeking for her family’s love.

Until the day she was going to be assigned a knight. A princess after all, an old tradition, she had to be protected as well. [Name] could still remember the first time she saw a knight so close, her sister’s protector who, ever since then, had never left her side.

She wondered if her knight would be as frightening and intimidating.

Certainly, she wasn’t expecting a boy in his early teens to kneel before her, swearing loyalty. He was young, very young, but when she looked into his eyes, she saw the determination and pain of having experienced a war; albeit it could have been her childish eyes exaggerating things.

He wasn’t even a knight. He was a mere squire (even new at that since he had been a page until he turned fourteen months before), who she learnt served her sister’s knight. Her face lost all the happiness and any spark of curiosity as the ceremony, short and solemn, came to an end. She was escorted to her chamber by the teenager in utter silence.

When standing by the doors, she stopped and turned around. She stared into his eyes, and almost got lost in those hues of blue and gray, so different and rare, before bringing herself to finally talk.

“Would you like to come in?” She offered with a gentle smile, which got erased almost instantly when seeing the slightly puzzled look on his face. “W-What is it?”

“I am not allowed to enter milady’s room.” He spoke lowly, and she suddenly remembered her manners. Why did she even suggest what she did? A red blush came onto her face as she looked away from his stern expression, muttering a small apology.

The Chivalry Code forced him to behave strictly respectful and gracious towards ladies, she finally recalled. She couldn’t just offer him to stay in her bedroom; his duty was to stand watch by her gates until she arose from slumber to the crack of dawn of the following day. But, the idea didn’t seem so bad to her. Maybe, it just was because a small part of her wanted to…

“I…” She spoke, bringing his attention again. “I don’t want to be alone… So it’s okay if you come in,” her mumbles felt shaky, tears heavily welling up in her eyes as she struggled not to let them show. Now that she was finally talking to someone after such a long time, now that she had started a conversation that wasn’t ignored for once, she didn’t want it to end. The squire sighed.

“Milady, I just can’t-”

“Then I order you stay in my room!” She raised her voice lightly in what she hoped would be an authoritarian tone, but sounded like a desperate whine as she couldn’t take the reins of her emotions anymore. “I’m not asking you to spend the night inside with me… Just… Please, stay with me until I fall asleep.”

[Name] couldn’t even look at his face now, red in embarrassment and sadness, which was pitifully pouring down her cheeks in flickering waterfalls to the light of the torches hanging on the walls that muffled her sobs.

She quietly whimpered as she saw him kneel down and take her hand before he kissed it with modesty; her face felt like fire by then, and she seriously hoped he would speak soon to make the silence a little less uncomfortable.

“My deepest apologies, milady, but the Chivalry Code must be obeyed above anything else… I cannot enter you chamber. I am dreadfully sorry.”

She gave up, and said no more words as she turned around and left the squire alone in the silent hallways. He sighed, feeling as if he was being a fail even though he had just started. He could hear her pitiful excuse of sobs that she was obviously trying to muffle through the door.

[Name] lay down on her bed, crying into her pillow at the painful display of emotions she had always been told to keep to herself as the princess.

“Princess… what a joke.” She spat bitterly, sniffling away the snots and harshly rubbing her tears that made her look so unladylike, but she couldn’t come to care. She was not in display as a beautiful doll or princess for anyone. She had never been, she was just there, in the background, waiting for the attention that never came; she was the last face the artist drawing a familiar picture would ever put interest in.

So deep in thought and lost in her sobs, she failed to hear a first row of silent knocks on her doors, but she managed to hear a second one, and she sat up, hopeful. When she called, no one answered, and her joy sunk to the pit of her stomach as no more knocks echoed in her room.

But she then saw something poking from the crack underneath the door, something that looked like a small piece of paper. Her feet dangled from the bed, and she approached the door with curiosity, before kneeling down on the floor and squinting her eyes to make out its content.

Her eyes widened and started to water as she read the single word plastered in dark ink, this time happiness bubbling up inside her as she stumbled to find a quill and ink of her own to immediately reply to this modest ‘hello’ of his, a word so simple but which for her held much more; it held the start of the friendship she had always craved.

stardust-blake  asked:

Happy new year, again, Rosie!! I'd like a drabble. I feel like we don't get enough flustered Clarke on the show so can you write a drabble with flustered Clarke + Bellamy's freckles. It could be canon or modern AU. Thanks for doing this, and you're amazing! <3

Three weeks later, and I finally got there. Sorry for sucking. Anyway, this fic is very ridiculous, deviates slightly from the prompt, and is a lot longer than originally anticipated, but I hope you enjoy it anyway, Hana :)

In retrospect, Clarke probably should’ve realised what was going on.

She’s in her third year of med school, after all, and usually has at least a basic level of common sense in her.

As it is, apparently Bellamy Blake makes her a bit of an idiot. And Bellamy Blake half naked? Well, Clarke’s not sure anyone can truly blame her for her brain short-circuiting and subsequently shutting down at the sight.

“You’re staring,” Raven comments easily, as he pulls off his top, leaving him in nothing but his swimming shorts.

And okay, Clarke at least has enough brain power to recognise that yes, she is staring, and it’d probably be a good idea to, you know — stop. But honestly, she’s not entirely sure how everyone on this goddamn beach isn’t watching him. Because Bellamy taking his top off definitely happened in slow-motion. With his skin glistening and his muscles rippling and his hair remaining perfectly dishevelled. That can’t have just been Clarke. She didn’t just imagine that.

But a quick glance to her friends, all still focused on their own tasks, tells her she did just imagine it. Which is a level above how her brain traditionally deals with her stupid feelings. Usually, she just fantasises about kissing him, or confessing her love, or worst of all, simply snuggling into his side and falling asleep. But this is some weird movie set shit her brain is delving into.

Which is probably the first sign that Clarke ignores.

“Shut up,” she mutters to Raven, spinning on her feet so she’s no longer facing Bellamy. He has a lot of nerve, being as beautiful as he is.

“I’m just saying,” Raven muses, ignoring Clarke’s response as she pulls out her towel and lays it down on the sand. “It’s likely that you’ll die today. Like, you barely keep it together as it is, and now you have to spend all day with him half naked. So, you know, just let me know how nice you want your casket to be.”

“If you think I want to be anything but cremated, you don’t know me very well.”

Raven snorts as Clarke helps lower her down onto her towel. “As someone who works in the medical field, your genuine belief that people can accidentally be buried alive is a weird one.”

“It could happen,” Clarke says, kicking Raven lightly in the shoulder when she just cackles.

“What could happen?” She hears from behind her, and when Clarke turns around there’s Bellamy, smile wide and eyes dazzling and freckles standing out so clearly against his warm golden skin. It’s a lot to take in all at once.

“Clarke could die of dehydration from being so thirsty,” Raven supplies unhelpfully, cocking an amused eyebrow when Clarke shoots her a dirty look.

“What?” Bellamy asks, frowning in confusion.

“Ignore her,” Clarke says, thankful that internet lingo isn’t really a strong point of his. “She’s being an asshole.”

“No surprise there.”

“You love me, Blake.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bellamy mutters with a small quirk of his lips. And then he looks back at Clarke, smile widening into a bright grin, and her brain kind of short-circuits again. “Want me to do your back?”

And, yeah, that certainly doesn’t help. Clarke blinks once, unable to get anything out but, “What?”

“Your back,” he repeats slowly, amused. When she just stares at him, probably resembling a deer in headlights, he continues, cocking an eyebrow. “You burn pretty quickly, princess. You really should put on sunscreen.”

“Oh right,” Clarke breathes out, shaking her head. She feels very warm suddenly, and it’s messing with her head. When Bellamy just keeps watching her with that amused expression of his, she realises she hasn’t actually answered him, and quickly amends. “Yeah, um. Thanks. That’d be, um — good,” she finishes lamely.

Bellamy chuckles, sending her a funny look as she grabs her bottle of sunscreen and passes it to him. And then she’s tugging off her top and turning around, and Bellamy’s hands are on her, and it’s like the universe is trying to punish her for some past life atrocity. Because his hands are large and rough and perfect, rubbing deep into her skin, and it’s hard not to imagine this exact same feeling in a very different context.

She feels a flush rise quickly on her chest at the thought, can’t help but sway back into Bellamy’s touch a little, but thankfully he doesn’t seem to notice, continuing with his task easily.

“Okay,” he announces a good minute later, running his hands down her back one last time. “I’m done. Do me?”

“What?” She asks, dazed, and when her brain catches up, “Oh, uh — yeah, of course,” she stutters out, feeling like a fourteen year old with her first crush again.

Of course, having her hands on Bellamy doesn’t help much, not with the way she feels the warmth of his skin and the tautness of his muscles, or the fact that she zones in on the freckles running down his back, all the way to the bottom of his scapulae before they pepper out.

It’s like the sun kissed each individual one onto his skin just to torture Clarke. She fucking loves his freckles.

And yes, she sees his freckles all the time, but for some reason they’re particularly mesmerising today, tugging on Clarke’s mind until it unravels a little. She feels herself rock backwards without really meaning to, stumbling in her stance, and has to brace herself using Bellamy’s shoulders.

Which is definitely the second sign, and once again, one she ignores.

It doesn’t get any better after that.

The water is lovely, of course, and the weather just as much, with the sun high and bright in the sky. And Clarke loves hanging out with her friends, enjoys swimming around with them and attempting to body surf, even finds herself joining in on the seaweed fight that breaks out when Miller cops some in the face curtesy of Jasper.

But she doesn’t feel completely right, skin hot and tight and mind muddled enough that she misses when people try to talk to her a few times. Her eyes keep getting caught on Bellamy’s form, from the curls stuck to his forehead to the golden brown of his chest, and when it gets bad enough that she feels slightly faint, she decides it’s time to get back onto solid ground.

“You okay?” Raven asks, when she joins her back on the beach, flopping down heavily on her towel. She still feels all hot and flustered, and apparently looks it too, if Raven’s concerned tone is anything to go by. “You don’t look good, babe. You need some water?”

And yeah, it’s kind of embarrassing that even that sign, spelt out right there in front of her, practically flashing to get her attention, isn’t enough for Clarke to realise something’s up.

Something other than the ridiculous explanation she’s come up with for feeling so out of it.

“I’m fine,” she mutters, beginning to fan her face with her hands. She just feels so dazed, and it’s absolutely absurd that seeing Bellamy like he is today is affecting her so much. It’s honestly normally not this bad. “I just — I don’t understand how he looks this good,” she explains, knowing Raven will catch on to her complaints quickly. “It’s like… it’s like he’s specifically trying to torture me.”

Raven laughs, sending Clarke a sly grin. “He’s probably just trying to look irresistible enough that you finally make a move.”

Clarke groans, letting her head drop back even as she shakes it in denial. “You’re delusional,” she sighs, eyes falling shut. They feel heavy, probably because they’ve had to look at something so beautiful for over an hour, which is totally a logical explanation.

“Yeah, I’m the delusional one,” Raven mutters lowly, and Clarke throws an arm out in an attempt to hit her, only to feel sand beneath her skin instead. “Okay, seriously, you’re acting even weirder than usual,” Raven says, voice etching on concerned. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” Clarke responds, stressing her point by waving her arms out wildly. She can practically feel Raven’s disbelief in the silence that follows, and sighs loudly. “Okay,” she eventually continues, words slurring slightly. “This is what it is. He’s a beautiful, freckled man, and my body can no longer handle it, probably because it knows my love is unrequited and I’m going to die alone, and therefore wants to punish me.”

“Uh huh,” Raven responds after a very long beat, voice slightly strangled. Then, “Babe?”


“You, um, might want to look up.”

“Why?” Clarke huffs, opening her eyes to throw Raven a glare for making her do something that requires effort, only to find Bellamy standing right in front of her, eyes wide and mouth parted as he watches her closely. She blinks, feels her face heat up even as her brain sort of decides to shut down. “Oh.”

“I just came to check up on you,” he says, voice inscrutable. His brows pull together and he runs a hand through his hair, and Clarke watches in mute horror as any possible explanation for her words escapes her. “Who were you…”

“What?” she asks, shaking her head quickly as though it could rid her of his question. “No one,” she says, and without much thought at all stumbles up to her feet, just needing to get away.

She makes it one step before the world goes fuzzy around the edges, and all at once a wave of nausea floods her.

“Woah, woah. Clarke,” she hears in Bellamy’s voice, as a pair of strong hands quickly circle her around the arms, keeping her upright even as she feels her whole body waver, losing every ounce of energy.

“Bell,” she breathes out, blinking up slowly to look at him, catching his worried expression and his big, brown eyes.

She sees him say something, his mouth moving as though he’s calling out her name, but his words are lost to the sound of blood rushing past her ears, and the next thing she knows, the galaxy across his face fades until it’s nothing but the dark night sky, and she’s out.


Clarke’s fainted once before in her life. It was when she was nine years old, and trying to beat her personal record of thirteen cartwheels in a row.

When she woke up it was to Wells’ worrying, and the first thing she asked him was if she beat her record. She had, getting a fourteenth cartwheel before she apparently stood up, stumbled, and fell back down again, and it was an exciting enough revelation that Clarke viewed the whole experience in a positive light.

This time, the first thing she says when she’s awake and semi-coherent is: “Your freckles.”

It comes out slurred and somehow accusatory, and Bellamy’s brow furrows in confusion as he watches her closely. Her head is in his lap, and his hands are gently stroking her face, and Clarke has enough brain activity to recognise that it feels really, really nice.

And also, that she accidentally confessed her love to Bellamy.

“Okay,” Bellamy says, sweeping her hair from her forehead. “I caught you before you fell, so there’s no way you have a concussion. Want to try that again?”

Clarke shakes her head, struggles to sit up and lets Bellamy help her when she can’t on her own. Her mind is still sluggish, and so she doesn’t stop herself from continuing to talk. Just, you know, to knock in that final nail that is her coffin. Or however it is you prepare an urn.

“Your freckles,” she says, frowning when Bellamy’s lips pull up into a smile. “They — they made me confused. And flustered. And I couldn’t — I couldn’t think.”

“Okay, I’m only a history teacher and I definitely know that that’s not how things work.” His smile widens when Clarke frowns, and he passes her a bottle of water. She takes it and downs it greedily, not having realised how thirsty she was until the first drop of water hit her lips. She feels worlds better for it, her head clearing of its cloudiness and her body feeling a lot stronger. “When’s the last time you ate?”

“What?” Clarke asks, confused again.

“The last time you ate,” Bellamy repeats, reaching behind her to grab something. Clarke looks over her shoulder to find Raven, somehow both looking concerned and amused, handing Bellamy a banana and a bag of jelly lollies. “Or had any water, for that matter.

“I don’t know,” Clarke mutters, feeling herself flush all at once because oh my fucking god, she is such a fucking idiot. “Last night, I guess.”

Bellamy shakes his head, peeling the banana before handing it over.

“Eat,” he tells her, tone leaving absolutely no room to argue. Not that Clarke would, now that she recognises that her feeling faint was not the result of Bellamy Blake’s freckles like she originally thought, but instead a combination of low blood sugar, mild dehydration and heat exhaustion. You know, the more logical explanation. Seriously, she’s in med school. This is beyond embarrassing.

She does eat, finishing the banana quickly before taking a few of the jelly lollies, getting some sugar into her system.

“So, let me get this straight,” Bellamy says after a good minute of just watching her eat. Clarke feels herself blush furiously, and she’s honestly wondering how much of an overreaction it would be to move to the other side of the world tomorrow. But she confessed her love to Bellamy, fainted in his arms, and then told him it was because of his freckles, all in about a three minute time span. The mountains of New Zealand sound pretty damn good right now. “You skip breakfast,” Bellamy begins to list off, pulling Clarke from her spiralling thoughts, “forget to drink any water, go to the beach on a ninety five degree day, and when you feel flustered you think it’s because of me.”

He sounds amused, but something more too. Hopeful, maybe, and it sends a pang of warmth through Clarke’s chest. A good pang, not an I’m-going-to-faint-again pang.

“Have you seen you?” She asks, tentative, and when Bellamy ducks his head in a shy grin she feels herself smile. “It made a lot more sense in my mind.”

Bellamy’s laugh comes out surprised and delighted, and when he looks back up his eyes are shining bright and his smile is as happy as Clarke ever remembers seeing. Again, it’s a lot to take in, but the flutter beneath her skin is a distinctly good kind.

“So if I kiss you right now, because your love in not at all unrequited, is there any chance you’ll faint again?”

“No,” Clarke responds quickly, shaking her head. “I’m in med school; I know these things.”

He’s grinning even as he rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I don’t trust you at all,” he says, but Clarke’s already reaching out to pull him down, guiding his mouth to hers.

His lips are warm and soft, and she sighs against them, slanting her mouth against his to better the angle. She deepens the kiss quickly, lets her tongue trace the seam of his lips until it slides against his, and then Bellamy’s pulling her onto his lap and Clarke’s hands are tangling into his hair, and they’re kissing like they don’t want to be doing anything else in the entire world.

She only pulls away when she starts feeling faint again, but it’s the good kind of breathless this time. The one that comes with being thoroughly kissed.

Plus, Bellamy basically just told her he loved her too, and that thought is enough to send her mind spinning a little.

She probably should eat some more, before they continue making out.

“I kind of died seeing you in this bikini,” Bellamy tells her as he rests his forehead against hers.

Clarke laughs softly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, hands tracing up her sides to reach the band of her bathers top. “But unlike some people, I recognise the importance of eating and staying hydrated, so you probably couldn’t tell.”

Clarke groans, dropping her head onto Bellamy’s shoulder as his body shakes with laughter. “You’re never gonna let me live this down, are you?”

“Yeah, absolutely not.”

“Can’t say I blame you,” she mutters, moving off of his lap to sit beside him instead. As much as she wishes she could, she can’t exactly keep making out with him on a public beach, in front of strangers. In front of their friends.

Remembering that little fact, Clarke turns around to find Raven staring back at her, thankfully alone, but looking altogether incredibly unimpressed.

“I can’t believe you literally had to faint into his arms to work out your shit,” she says, and Clarke shrugs even as Bellamy snorts out a laugh at the comment.

Tucking herself into his side and lacing their fingers together, it’s had to find a part of her that cares.

“Whatever works.” 

lowbloodkiwi  asked:

Hi I'm here to fill up your inbox again- if you can, I'd love to read a sickfic with Lance not feeling well and literally checking out of the day's activities (like me today) and the team is mad at him for it but as the hours go by, lance still hasn't come back, and someone finally goes to his room after dinner(to yell at him or show actual concern is your choice) to see him passed out on the floor with a crazy fever and they have to comfort him while also trying to call for help-

yES omg

This is sort of a shorter idea so here is a short fic which is kinda Hance if’n you want it to be, but could also be platonic. Sorry that it doesn’t have an ending lol

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Sick Of Losing Soulmates - snowbaz

alright-y-o so this is my first snowbaz fic and I got really carried away with it so let’s just post it before i fuck it up beyond repair okAY

Genre: fluff?? angst?? baz

Warnings: mentions of vomiting (not too graphic), lots of talk about death and murder (whoops), graphic making out ;))))))))

Summary: (AU) Sixth year at Watford, and Simon Snow turns up sick. Baz ‘doesn’t care’. 

Word Count: 6,139 (JEEZ)

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  • (Not part of RoseGarden Snippet Stories) After that one RWBY Chibi episode of Nora drinking coffee, I'd think the new guy wouldn't understand to NEVER give Nora coffee.
  • Ozpin (in Oscar's head): Oscar. Have you ever thought of...getting coffee?
  • Oscar: No, not really. My aunt never let me have any.
  • Ozpin (in Oscar's head): But your aunt isn't here now is she?
  • Oscar: yeah, so?
  • Ozpin (in Oscar's head): cofeeeeee sounds really good right about now.
  • Oscar: Are you okay?
  • Ozpin (in Oscar's head): Never been better.
  • Oscar: Sure.
  • Nora: *slides up next to Oscar* Hey...Oscar. Can you do me a favor?
  • Oscar: Sure Nora.
  • Nora: could you...buy me some coooofeeee?
  • Oscar: First,the professor now you?
  • Nora: pleaseeee? Ren won't let me get some, and Ruby and Jaune refuse to listen to me!
  • Oscar: Nora, I may have just met you, but I personally think if you drank coffee, you'd explode.
  • Nora: I wouldn't explode. Maybe you would. It happens.
  • Oscar: fine. It can't hurt. I'll buy you one and oz one.
  • Ozpin (in Oscar's head): well. I mean it's not like I can taste it.
  • Oscar: then why'd you ask me, huh?
  • *Ozpin and Oscar bicker all the way back to their seats, where an attendant with a cart is waiting for them.*
  • Oscar: Where is Ruby, Nora and Ren?
  • Attendant: Your friends saw a Grimm in the last train car.
  • Oscar: Nora...don't you think you should help them?
  • Nora: *with a crazed look in her eyes* They'll be fine...I mean it's coffee!
  • Ozpin (in Oscar's head): C'mon...
  • Oscar: I'll have two large coffees. One black and one with extra sugar and cream. *"I'm totally going to regret this"*
  • Attendant: *makes coffee* Here you are, sir! This coffee is on the house! Or on the train!
  • Oscar: Really? Why?
  • Attendant: Cause one of your friends are really cute.
  • Nora: *spits out coffee* Which one? If it's Ren...
  • Attendant: The blonde one. He's so handsome and funny.
  • Nora: Wow. Um, okay.
  • Oscar: Yeah.
  • *awkward silence*
  • Attendant: Okay! I'll get going now.
  • Oscar: *sits down, takes first sip of coffee, spits it out* Ugh, how do you drink this stuff, Ozpin?
  • Ozpin (in Oscar's head): I lived and breathed coffee. You haven't lived if you haven't drank it.
  • Oscar: It's awful. And there's no point in drinking it if you can't taste it. How's your coffee, Nora?
  • Nora: *jittery, from all the coffee*
  • Oscar: Nora?
  • Jaune, Ren and Ruby rush back in
  • Jaune: We stopped the Grimm—Nora!
  • Ruby: Oscar! Did you give Nora coffee?
  • Ren: Seriously, does ANYONE listen to me?
  • Oscar: Sorry...
  • Ren: *sighs* It's fine. Nora will probably break the fourth wall, or pass out, but she'll be okay soon enough.
  • Oscar: Well, okay.
  • Ozpin (in Oscar's head): I don't know what to say. You children never cease to amaze me.
  • Oscar: Says the old man whose souls is intertwined with a teenager
  • Ozpin (in Oscar's head): Point taken.
  • Honestly, I love Oscar and Ozpin's interactions. It's so funny. I've seen many posts where people think Oscar is 12...which is very odd when it comes to RoseGarden stories...let's pretend he's 15 too, shall we?
Battle of Wits - MadaSaku - Pokémon AU

Battle of Wits
Pokémon AU

Written for @madasakuweek.
Warning: it’s long.
Theme: Impulse

A frustrated frown marred Haruno Sakura’s expression as she searched through the medicine cabinet in the hospital’s storage room. All the bandages and pain medicine were in their place, as were all of her healing potions and ointments. All except one. Her Hyper potion.

Chewing her lower lip, Sakura closed the lower door and straightened from where she had been kneeling before she began rifling through the cabinet located above the counter as she wondered where exactly she had left the expensive item. Her Godmother and the hospital director was going to kill her if she didn’t locate it.


At the soft call, Sakura turned and looked down at the pink Pokémon to find it was holding the very potion she had been searching for. A deep sigh of relief passed between her lips before a smile broke out across her face as she bent down to accept the glass bottle. “Thank you, Chansey.”

The gentle creature repeated its name happily before it led the way out of the large closet and into the hall. Chansey waddled off in the direction of the Recovery Ward as Sakura paused at the filing desk that held the charts for all the injured Pokémon on the floor. The pink-haired medic quickly scanned the section reserved solely for Fire-type Pokémon before she thumbed through the numerous files lining the shelves.

“I didn’t know you were still here, Sakura?”

Having found the chart she was looking for, Sakura pulled the file from the shelves before she cast a side-glance at the woman next to her. Shizune was the second-hand to the hospital director, Tsunade, and someone Sakura considered a close friend. While Sakura’s Godmother had taught her the basics of medicine and healing, Shizune had trained her on diagnostics and how to handle emergency situations. Shizune was practically a sister to her and Sakura felt the weight of her busy day ease from her shoulders at her mere presence.

“I was supposed to leave yesterday, but you know how it goes,” Sakura said as she flipped open the chart. “A medic’s work is never done.”

The older woman made a noise of agreement in the back of her throat before she finished updating her own chart and slipped it back into its place amongst the Rock-type Pokémon files. “What did you get held up on?” she asked as she leaned her hip against the tall shelves and peered at the file in Sakura’s hand. “Is that the Growlithe that came in last night?”

Sakura nodded without looking up as she reviewed the nurses’ notes. “Yeah, I couldn’t get him to eat anything this morning and it looks like the nurses didn’t have any better luck this afternoon. It’s going to be a long recovery if he doesn’t get some energy into him.”

“Did you try the special blend?” Shizune offered.

Again, she nodded. “He turned his nose up at it. I don’t know what the hell his trainer did to him, but I think he’s too scared to eat.”

A dark frown settled upon Shizune’s face at the implication of her statement, but the women had been medics in the field long enough to know that Pokémon abuse wasn’t uncommon amongst trainers. It was only in recent months that it had become common practice for trainers to abandon their Pokémon when they became critically injured in battle, delivering them to the hospital and never returning to collect them once they were in good health again. Tsunade was struggling to keep up with the influx of the wounded as many of the Pokémon had endured some type of abuse with their trainers and were too frightened to accept treatment.

It was this very reason that Sakura found herself in Saffron City. She had only been at the hospital for a few, short weeks to help out her Godmother, but already things were turning around for the better. With the extra set of hands hands and a lot of patience from the staff, the number of admitted Pokémon were already decreasing.

“Poor guy,” Shizune murmured. “Did you scream at this trainer too?”

Sakura shot Shizune a small, amused smirk as she recalled the incident that had occurred during the first week of Sakura’s visit. She had been exhausted after performing a grueling surgery to save the life of an Oddish that had been pushed to its limits and beyond, and Sakura had lost her temper when the trainer had asked her how long until it could battle again. She would have given the man a black eye if Shizune hadn’t intercepted her and dragged her away from the clearly baffled imbecile.

“Unfortunately, no. He was left on our doorstep this morning. I doubt his trainer will come back for him. And if he does, then I will do a whole hell of a lot more than just yelling,” Sakura said darkly.

Shizune merely shot her an amused look, fully aware that Sakura would keep her promise, but before she could voice her opinion on the matter, the Chansey that had been with Sakura moments before ran towards them. “Chansey! Chansey!”

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anonymous asked:

Hi! I hope i'm doing this correctly, i love your blog and your writing and i'd feel terrible if i did something silly ;_; but if you're up to it, could I request headcannons about junkrat and/or symmetra where they're on a mission with their s/o and the s/o takes a shot for them? (s/o doesn't die, just gets injured protecting them) and how they would react? thanks so much, I appreciate it :)

You’re doing fine, I’m pretty chill about stuff so honestly you probably couldn’t offend me if you wanted to. 


Jamison’s piercing laugh spread through the air as he lobbed frag grenades at a group of Talon grunts. A few went flying and you shot the ones that survived through the head. 

“And they said I would never amount to anything,” he gives a lopsided grin to you and you return with a much softer one.

“C’mon darl,” he posed with his grenade launcher over his shoulder, “Let’s get the data they want.”

Noticing something move behind Junkrat you grabbed him by the straps trailing across his chest and threw him behind you. A gun fired and the world froze around you. Blood splattered to the ground like blossoming petals and you fell to your knees. You touched your chest and when your hand pulled away it was coated with red. 

It doesn’t even hurt, you thought as the world went dark and cold. Junkrat screamed and fired his launcher continuously, tearing the enemies apart. Everything went by in a daze until he seemingly appeared in the drop ship, desperately pressing his hands to your wounds. It seemed like no time had passed until Mercy shooed him away from the surgery room before going into her doctor mode.

Junkrat stared blankly forward before hobbling towards his workshop. Slamming the door shut he grabbed the nearest unfinished project and started working. He worked for three days without rest until Roadhog grabbed him by the scruff of the next and threw him out. He just wandered around, the world in a daze, until he found himself standing outside of the med-bay. Raising his hand in defense at Mercy’s suspicious glance, he saw you laying there on the bed.

“I promise I ain’t got nothing with me doc,” he said while he hobbled to you. 

“If I smell the slightest hint of gunpowder,” she warned before leaving.

As he sat in the chair next to your bed, your eyes opened and you smiled at the junker. 

“You look awful.”

“Why doncha look in a mirror, darl,” he retorted as your hand wrapped around his own, “You look as bad as me.”

Giving a hum you squeezed your hand, “I’m going to be fine.”

“Ah,” he said, resting his head on your thigh and his eyes closing.

“That’s good.”


“Everything is in order,” Satya leaned back, admiring the gleam of her sentry turrets placed in a neat lines.

“That looks nice,” you looked over the turrets also eye kept for enemies behind her, knowing that she can miss things when she’s focused on something.

“Doesn’t it,” Symmetra cooed, “Marvelous.”

You noticed something move behind her and you grabbed her shoulder, throwing her behind you. A hook wrapped around your waist and pulled you towards the large Junker. He shot his gun and shrapnel filled your chest. Dropping to the ground you saw a light blue ball float above you and hit Roadhog in the chest. 

Giving a shuddering breath he quickly retreated and Satya filled your sight. Her face was cold as lifted you, eyes staring at your shoulder. The world swum around you as you found yourself back at the drop ship, body moving slightly as it took off. You heard Symmetra humming and could picture the ways her hands move rhythmically with the song. Knowing that it was her way to calm down you gave a shallow breath.

You slipped into unconsciousness and woke again a few days later, laying in the med bay. You looked to the side to see Satya reading a book, she flickering her eyes to you when you shift slightly. 

“You woke up,” her voice was passive, almost like you just woke up from a nap.

“I did,” you confirmed, “How is your book?”

“It is uninteresting,” she closed it and laid it on your night stand, “You will be fine.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” you rested your head on the pillow before reaching your hand out.

“I would like to hold your hand,” you said while Symmetra slid her hands in yours.

Smiling you murmured out a word before falling asleep.


who you should fight: Australian Prime Ministers edition
  • Barton: You could fight Barton. He was pissed all the time anyway. Plus he was first so people will know who you’re talking about, but none of them will know enough to get angry at you for it.
  • Deakin: He’ll come back like three times. You will get to walk past everything named after him like “Ha, kicked the shit out of him” though.

  • Watson: He was PM for four months, why would you bother

  • Reid: You could just roll him over, but be warned: he’ll have a Cutting Remark about it.

  • Cook: I don’t know shit about Cook and neither do you.

  • Fisher: See Deakin, but without the name recognition. 

  • Hughes: DO IT. FIGHT HUGHES. He’s evil, tiny, and the whole ALP will help you.

  • Bruce: Just look at that smug little union-busting prick. You can take him.

  • Scullin: Dude had two splits in his party at once in two different directions. Why would you make his life worse?

  • Lyons: Don’t fight Lyons. He might die, and then Sir Earle Page and Dame Enid would kick your ass.

  • Page: Yeah, fight Page, I don’t think he’ll mind, just leave Lyons alone and it’ll be cool.

  • Curtin: Beloved national hero who led this nation through World War Two while struggling with alcoholism before dying in office. Do you want the whole country to hate you?

  • Forde: 8 days. Why?

  • Chifley: Dude made a referendum in Australia pass. Don’t mess with him.

  • Menzies: The entire Liberal party will come after you. Don’t. 

  • Holt: Have fun fighting underwater.

  • McEwen: DO NOT FIGHT MCEWEN. Don’t be fooled by his being interim PM for like a month. He single-handedly stopped Holt’s obvious successor succeeding him. He created the protectionist policies for rural Australia for decades through sheer force of personality. DON’T FIGHT MCEWEN.

  • Gorton: He survived crashing his jet, having his face torn to shreds and being left for dead in the middle of the Pacific. He’s a tenacious bugger. But just put Fraser in the room and he’ll be too consumed with rage to even notice you.

  • McMahon: You could take McMahon. Anyone could take McMahon. You won’t be proving anything.

  • Whitlam: Too bloody tall, also the entire Australian left will come after you in revenge.

  • Fraser: He might not look tough and have that snooty voice, but dude was like 6′4″ and destroyed two Prime Ministers. Don’t take the risk.

  • Hawke: You could fight Hawke. I mean you’d lose, but he’d definitely buy you a beer afterward. You’d also lose the subsequent drinking contest though.

  • Keating: DON’T FIGHT KEATING. DO NOT FIGHT KEATING. I don’t care how skinny he is, he will play dirty, destroy you will psychological warfare, ‘do you slowly’ and probably come up with some insult people will still be quoting three decades later.

  • Howard: Do it. Fight Howard. Tiny, evil, whole left will help (also Peter Costello).

  • Rudd: Seems like an easy win until he devotes the rest of his life to destroying yours. Don’t fight Rudd.

  • Gillard: Woman is tough. Best avoided.

  • Abbott: Like, I wanna see Abbott get punched as much as anyone, but he was a prize-winning boxer. Let the Liberal caucus do it instead.

  • Turnbull: Give it a go. Fucker’s gotta be bad at something, right?

anonymous asked:

hi! I'd like to request a midoriya izuku x reader where the reader has a kind of average quirk (nothing crazy special like the child of all night or smth), and the reader and izuku are friends. if you wouldn't mind id also like to include something like how the reader is jealous of izuku and ochako, and is trying to hide their feelings. eventually the reader accidentally spills and tries to avoid izuku but they end up together! something really cute like that, please!

Yes! Great idea! Sorry that this took a while, I accidentally wrote too much… it was originally three pages on google docs before I edited it lol

- Eri


“(Y/N)! Hey! Wait up!” Was that Ochako? I looked back to see the small girl frantically waving her arms while running in my direction. I paused to let her catch up.

“Yeah?” I questioned as she came to a stop. She took a minute to catch her breath before responding.

“You left this on your desk! I wanted to return it to you!” She held out a black notebook.

“Oh my gosh! Thank you so much! I didn’t realize I’d left it. I wouldn’t have been able to do my homework without it!” I thanked her.

“Is your house this direction, too?” She asked. I nodded. We walked in silence for about two blocks before she spoke up again.

“Oh, yeah! Deku and I are going to go watch that one new movie tomorrow after school. You know the one? The super hero one? It has some really famous actors in it… I can’t think of what it’s called…” She trailed off.They were planning to go watch a movie together? Like a on a date? I could feel my heart sink. I had a *huge* crush on Izuku. This wasn’t good. At all. It really hurt to think that he was going out with someone else. Izuku and I are close friends, how come I hadn’t seen this coming? It was so obvious that they liked each other…

“Oh, wait! It’s called ‘The Return of the Dark Villain’… or something like that. Deku is really excited about it. Anyways, I was wondering if you wanted to come with us! The more the merrier, right?”

Why was she inviting me on their date? I actually really wanted to see the movie, I was even the one who told Izuku about it in the first place. I had been hoping that maybe he might ask me if I’d like to go with him. I almost couldn’t bring myself to respond. Thankfully, I didn’t have to. She began speaking again.

“I have to turn here, my house is this way. You don’t have to let me know your decision right away. You can tell me in the morning. See ya!”

The rest of the afternoon passed by in a muddled blur. I don’t remember falling asleep, but I found myself waking up the next morning still fully dressed in my school uniform and surrounded by tissues. It took me a few minutes to realize what had happened, but as soon as I did, my mood fell. I stood and stretched, then I proceeded to get ready for the day. I almost considered skipping class, but I decided against it. Sighing, I grabbed my bag and began my short journey towards the school.

As I approached the gates, Izuku was arriving as well. He called out to me but I pretended I couldn’t hear him and walked into the building. If I looked at him I was sure I would start crying again. I entered the classroom and walked straight to my usual seat, dumping my belongings on the desk. Ochako came over to greet me.

“Hey, (Y/N)! So, did you make up your mind?”

“No, I don’t think I can,” I responded.

“Oh that’s too bad… Maybe next time, then?” She gave me a small smile. The bell rang right as Izuku entered the classroom. He tried to get my attention once again but I continued ignoring him. I spent the entire day making myself scarce. I ate lunch with some students from Class B because I knew Izuku wouldn’t think to look for me there. (The Class B kids were quite confused when I sat down, but I told them I was having relationship problems and they seemed sympathetic enough).

Eventually he caught up to me at the end of the day as I was getting ready to leave.

“(Y/N), is something wrong? Why are you avoiding me?” Izuku’s eyebrows scrunched up in concern.

“No. Just go on your date with Ochako. You’re going to be late if you keep standing around here talking to me like this…” I replied, trying to avoid eye contact.

“What?! We’re not going on a date… Is that what this is about? You’re mad that I was going to hang out with her?” He asked.

“It’s because I like you, okay?!” I exclaimed.

“You… You like me?” Izuku’s facial expression changed into one of complete and utter shock. Realizing what I had done, I turned on my heel and sprinted away. For once, I was thankful for my relatively boring quirk, something that increased my speed and stamina.

“Hey! (Y/N)! Wait! Come back!” Izuku shouted. He tried to catch up, but to no avail. I eventually lost him and sprinted home. Why did I say that?! It must’ve sounded so dumb… I’m never going to be able to look at Izuku again…. He probably hates me now… I sat down on my bed and pulled out my notebook, trying to focus on something other than Izuku.

About twenty minutes later, I heard a knock on my door. I hesitantly got up to go answer it.

“Izuku?!” The poor boy was doubled over at my doorstep, breathing heavily.

“(Y/N)! I wish you wouldn’t have sprinted away so fast… You didn’t even give me time to respond!” He panted out, “I like you too!” Now it was my turn to be shocked.

“Huh?! But… what about Ochako?”

“Ochako and I are just friends!”

“But aren’t you missing the movie?”

Izuku shook his head, “She knew I had a crush on you. I was too nervous to ask you out, so she planned to convince you to come with us. She was going to say something came up at the last minute and leave us alone. I’m sorry that it upset you so much…” Izuku apologized.

I couldn’t contain my joy any longer as I leapt forward and enveloped him in a giant hug.

“So how about that movie?” Izuku asked. He offered his hand and I gladly took it.

“Of course,” I giggled.

Your name is Hanazawa Shigeo, and when you are twenty four years old, you meet a boy.

His name is Reigen Arataka.

[For @tardistype221b. I was your gifter for the Mob Psycho 100 Holiday Gift Exchange 2016 at @christmas-shou! I am so sorry for how late this is. Happy (belated) Holidays!]

[Continue under the read more or on ao3]

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imaginetho  asked:

hiiii good luck on your new blog love! if you need any help or anything at all really let me know ;D can i please request a scenario wherein todoroki's s/o does something really cute and he can't help but blush so when she asks him why hes blushing so much and he tells her she ends up blushing as well? just lots of fluff really since i'd love seeing my boy act fluffy thank you!

Thanks fam, that’s really sweet of you! <3 I’ve never known how much I needed this ask, today’s been a bad day, so fluff should help cleanse my soul! I hope you enjoy this! Also, I’m not sure if this is written wrongly, so if it is, please let me know and I’ll rewrite it!


You loved rooftops. Unlike the stuffy cafeteria, there was just something about the rooftop that calms you down immensely. Maybe it’s the open skies? Or perhaps the calming silence that surrounds you? Either way, it had cemented your love for rooftops, and you had wished to bring your lover up to this sanctuary of yours, just sitting side by side, having the lunch you made. Yes, had. Because it is no longer a wish, with Todoroki’s text message of “I’m on my way” appearing on your screen. You leaned against the wall, two bentos sitting on your lap, one blue and one purple. A slight blush rose to your cheeks as you envisioned Todoroki looking all surprised at what you’ve done for him. Sure, you were no cooking goddess, but hey, what’s better than making lunch for your lover to express your love?

  A creak and the gentle shutting of the door pulled you out of your thoughts, and you hurriedly shoved the bentos behind your back, watching as the bi colored hair boy head towards you. “H-hey Shouto,” you grin, a trace of nervousness slipping into your words. “Hey, Y/N,” he smiles, and you were momentarily blinded by that gentle smile of his. My heart, it has taken 99% damage, you think, toes curling at a simple smile. “So, what’s up?” Oh right. Scrambling to your feet, you pick up his bento and stretched it towards him, flashing a smile at him. “H-here! I, I made you some lunch,” you stammer, heart beating furiously. 

  “I, uh, you know, thought it would be a great idea to express my love,” you ramble, gluing your eyes shut. Wait. Love? “Ah, no! I didn’t mean that. Hold on, no, I mean I love you, but I-” Crap, crap, how could you even think to confess your love to him this early into the relationship? Now, he’s definitely going to- Hang on a minute.Why was it so silent? Todoroki hasn’t spoken for a while now, and fear begins to bubble within you. Peeking slightly to gauge his reaction, your eyes widened to witness the sight before you. Todoroki’s face had lit up in flames, face matching the color of his hair. Seeing him like this was a first, and mild confusion begins to swirl in you.

  “…Shouto? What’s wrong? Why are you blushing so much?” you prod. You thought it wasn’t possible, but his face turned even redder, that at this point, you were worried that he might faint. “Ah, Y/N,” he starts, scratching the back of his neck in anxiousness. “I didn’t expect you to do so much for me, I really appreciate it. You’re being really cute and I can’t handle this,” he mumbles, voice growing softer and softer. “…And I love you too.” 

  The blood rushes back to your face, this time at full force. Heat was emanating from you, and you were certain you looked like a cherry tomato. “…?! Y/N, are you alright?” Shouto questions worriedly, reaching his hand out to cup your cheek. That seemed to have an adverse effect - at this point, you were highly certain that you were going to pass out. The two of you probably looked ridiculous, standing in the middle of the rooftop with red faces. 

  “Mmhm, Uh, yeah, of course I’m alright! Let’s uh, eat our bentos?” you waver, pulling a charming smile onto your face.

  Oh god, Todoroki thinks. Why are you so cute?

erotetica  asked:

for your prompts, maybe lalwen and finarfin, when finarfin turns back after the darkening?

The ground was frosted; Lalwen’s boots crunched as she walked, her breath a mist in the air. Blue lamplight caught on the faces around her, in the glimmer of their eyes. She put her head up and strode on.

Findaráto caught her glance as she passed, calling orders by the supply-wains, and gave her a smile that was like a wound. It rocked her, but whatever he saw in her face made him spin away, pushing his hair back with both hands, and begin talking fast to an unhappy-looking companion.

“Arafinwë!” she called, as she came into the pool of a lantern, her brother directing the division of their baggage beneath it. He looked up at her with almost a guilty start, shadows grey around his eyelids.

He had been growing thinner, these past – months? Hard to tell time, by only the wheel of the stars, if you did not keep the measure of it.

“Arafinwë,” she said, again, and went to embrace him, feeling his shoulders tense under her arms, pressing a rough kiss to his cheek. “They tell me that you – you – “

More tension. He held her away from him, stepping back, steeling himself. She looked at him, feeling an uncomfortable pity, the twist of love tight in her chest.

“I’m going back,” he said, and bit his lip.

She shifted on her feet. Tugged at her gloves.

Why,” she said, staring at him, and he gave her a strange, blank look. “Arafinwë, after that? How can you – “

The Doomsman’s words still tolled in her bones; she shivered.

“Lalwen,” he said, putting out a hand, almost blindly, and catching hers, so she felt his grip through the layers of their gloves. “Of course I’m going back. You should – we all – “

“After that?” she said again, starting to be angry. “After threats and – and – is that what it takes, for you, after everything – “

A wince; then his head came up.

“It’s not too late,” he said, earnest. She was familiar enough with the tone. “Listen, Lalwendë, we need to do this together, we did all along. If we go back and – and ask – “

“Ask your wife’s kin for pardon?” Lalwen said, deliberate. “After they started the battle on the docks, and tried to call the sea’s wrath on us, after – oh, listen, little brother, those were no natural storms – “

“I don’t know who started it,” Arafinwë said, almost petulant. “After we tried to kill them. Yes. Let’s shake hands and try to get along, if they’ll let us.” She recognised the phrase from when their eldest brother had said it with scorn; Arafinwë spoke now with bitter resignation.

Lalwen had, herself, pushed a spear through the chest of a Telerin sailor, who had nocked an arrow to aim with pale, terrified face but steady hands. The grind of his ribs against the blade and shaft had been familiar from a dozen courtly hunts; she had hardly needed to think about the motion.

“It’s too late,” she said, instead of thinking about it now. “Nothing’s right, Arafinwë, it hasn’t been since before Father died, but at least we can try to make Moringotto pay. What else should we do, now we’ve come this far? Who do you think this is going to help?”

Her brother’s face was falling into familiar lines, the stubborn determination that made him – tall and golden and with his mother’s features – look, for a moment, not like Finwë but Fëanáro.

“No one, probably,” he said, thinly. “It never does.” She tried to catch his sleeve, but he was already turning away.