I do love how Yellow Diamond was introduced. It was such an “oh, shit” moment. And the choice of VA was a great one. Yellow spoke with an older, refined voice that really helped sell the idea of her being someone with authority.
Then we see more and more of her. And that older, refined voice she has is almost a contrast to her personality. At least in a relaxed setting. She is delightfully immature. Stomps her feet at Blue and whines when she gets told off.
Blue Diamond had a similar feel. She was “introduced” via Garnet. It was Garnet’s voice, not Blue’s that we heard. And her presence in The Answer build her up like Yellow’s intro did. This was someone with supreme authority.
So when we finally see her? Her voice is small, low. Almost broken. Not the impression her presence in The Answer gave at all.
I just love that contrast. The buildup for the Diamonds didn’t disappoint and neither does us getting to know them better.
I’ve been wondering for a while, if, with the several implications of medical torture, Shiro might have a problem with beds from his missing year. Considering the prison cells we’ve seen on the imperial ships don’t seem to have any furnishings, just the floor- so during most of that year, the only time Shiro was actually lying up on something would be if he was strapped to a table.
While that’s a super dark note to start on, it led me to wonder if at a hypothetical point where Shiro actually starts doing better and catching up on sleep, the team just starts catching him sleeping in weird places. Upright in chairs. Across the back of the couch. Sometimes, in Black’s hangar leaning against one of her feet. He manages to terrify at least one person by dozing off standing up in a corner.
He probably likes corners and being able to put his back to a wall since subconsciously less things can sneak up on him, and eventually the team manages to come up with something more comfortable for him that doesn’t set him off so Shiro can actually get some goshdang sleep and not be, most likely, really sore afterwards.
Did someone say modern step sibling au lmao I mentioned writing this before, I was gonna make it one long fic but i decided to break it up into a few shorter ones? It wont be that long tho I just don’t want it all to be in one thing. ANYWAY, this is a modern au featuring JD and Heather Chandler as step siblings who are desperate for Veronica, a Known Bisexual. It’s honestly equal parts jdonica and chansaw so hopefully you’re into that lol. Here’s part one!
Nihma was yet another student admitted to the EU, yet another face with an
obviously fake name but only one letter away from the real one; a dangerous
choice, but she was a practiced liar. Oddly enough she was also quite practiced
in her protection from the gentry, even if she did happen to occasionally
disappear once or twice a month.
She was the student that many went to for emergencies; not enough candy,
iron pieces are missing, or the textbook they had w Her dorm happened to be the
one where things turned up most, sadly her roommate often didn’t. She cracked
the door open and handed items off, seeming to know who was at the door and
what they would need. It helped, coming from a family of psychics.
On the days her roommate was gone, Nihma would keep the lights on, ignoring
the shadows outlined in the corner; blinking, never fading, always growing.
Instead, she recited textbook after textbook and tossed candy and wrappers
behind her after every chapter, listening to the telltale crunch and heaving
breath like a cat chewing on a bone. It receded after the fifth chapter as
always; no one really questioned how she knew the material so well.
It was often chaotic on the days she vanished, so she pushed all lost items
out of the room and extra candy and iron when she knew she would be gone;
sometimes she would get a couple waterbottles and extra salt packets in return,
a quiet welcome back from the other students. Her feet ached. Her mind was
tired. At least she was back. Her roommate would be returned for two months.
Then the process began again. “I have the notes you missed last week,” Nihma
murmured, her roommate smiled.
“I appreciate it.”
(I hope you don’t mind, I really like Elsewhere University, I had to word
Sherlolly Appreciation Week, Day 6- First “I Love You”
Ok so for this one, let’s kind of pretend that s4 never happened. Yeah, I know, that’s hard to do! But honestly, I feel like any first ILY can’t really be believable if s4 happened and it’s set after that. Thank goodness for the non-canon category for this week’s themes lol! And I believe both @elennemigo and @fangirlhani were in favor of me writing the first ILY theme. Hope you guys (and everyone) enjoy what I came up with! Oh and thanks to @artbylexie for not only beta reading but also helping me come up with the setup of this plot. Fun times lol!;))
On Again, Off Again
Molly Hooper stomped up the stairs to 221B. Really stomped. The anger that coursed through her body was intense enough that it felt good to at the very least slam her feet on the steps as she climbed them.
She’d rarely been this angry.
Molly stormed into his flat with fire in her eyes. There he stood, his safety glasses covered eyes looking a bit confused as he stood at his kitchen table holding a beaker with some unidentified fluid in it.
“Molly?” He looked her up and down in an obvious attempt at deduction as she marched in the room and tossed her bag and coat aside in preparation for battle.
“Sherlock, of all the deceitful, unfeeling, and insulting things to do…” she began, pacing back and forth with clenched fists. “How could you think to treat a friend this way?!”
An old and homely grandmother accidentally summons a demon. She mistakes him for her gothic-phase teenage grandson and takes care of him. The demon decides to stay at his new home.
Sooo. I needed some practice after my writer’s block so I decided to write this random tumblr prompt and make it slightly bokuroo. Please don’t shoot me. Enjoy!
“Grandma, what the fuck.”
“Language, Tetsurou,” his grandmother scolds goodnaturedly.
Kuroo stares and stares and stares, because seriously, what the fuck, grandma.
“Hey hey!” The man beaming behind her waves a hand enthusiastically in greeting. “Nice house!”
“It’s uh, not mine.” Kuroo says awkwardly, and pats his grandma gently on the shoulder.
“Thank you, dear,” she also beams.
Why the fuck is everyone beaming, Kuroo thinks, what is so great about this. The attic is a bit of a steep descent, and at his grandmother’s age, she really shouldn’t be climbing up and down with those knees.
“I got it,” the man and his incredibly thick arms literally block the way when Kuroo moves to lend his grandma an arm.
“Right,” Kuroo grits. It’s my grandmother, he thinks viciously, but the guy looks so damn happy it’d be like kicking a puppy.
‘The guy’ is a bit of an understatement, to be quite honest. Maybe grandma’s just left her specs at the kitchen table again, but those weird horns- not to mention the black and white hair- are definitely not ‘guy’-like. They’re… evil-like, and Kuroo is really worried about his grandmother.
Those claws don’t look too comfortable either, but her thick jumper solves that problem. At least he’s got proper feet, Kuroo supposes, it’d be a bit awkward getting about with hooves.
I haven’t had the chance to read it over so I apologise for any mistakes!
In the middle of the room, there’s a desk ringing around in a circle. It’s made of marble and shaking vines of grey stone runs through the beige. The lights dangle from the high ceiling and they cast a yellow glow over every inch of the room.
People are standing around, leaning against tables, sitting on chairs. They hand over cheques and withdraw money, their hearts beating at a regular pace, much to Justin’s disappointment.
He can see Y/N standing just outside the double doors. Her hands are drumming against the side of her thigh while she looks from left to right. He can see she has her leather jacket wrapped tightly around her body and he knows it’s because her weapon is being held within.
Justin let’s his eyes linger on her for a few seconds longer than he should. As though she can feel his blazing eyes burning into her back, Y/N turns and glances in through the doors. She can see him watching her and she sends him a wink, followed by her blood-red lipstick sending him a kiss. He grins evilly with both lust and adoration for his girlfriend-stroke-sidekick and winks back in her direction, hoping no one catches on to dishonest scheme the man and woman in the matching leather jackets are preparing for.
In the small pocket of his jacket, the 44 Magnum gun sits quietly, it’s cool exterior burning his hand. The pad of his thumb tapped the side of it continuously as he awaited the perfect victim.
A well-built man walks by and Justin is far too experienced to know it would be a mistake to attack someone of that size, so he shifts his gaze away and manages to clock a man who seems to be trembling as he walks. Draped in a fancy suit with spectacles on the bridge of his crooked nose, the hair on the bank manager’s head is thinning and it’s clear to Justin that he’s the one he needs.
In two seconds Justin manages to turn swiftly and pull the man into a headlock so that his arm is digging into his Adam’s Apple. A shriek emits from the dry lips of Justin’s helpless prey and fingernails as sharp as pins dig into his arm. As a result, Justin presses the head of the gun against the shining temple of the man.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Justin whispers before pointing the gun back to the crowd of cowering people. “Now, listen up! Things are about to get interesting!” Justin lets out a sharp laugh with a huge grin on his face. There’s a mad look in his eye.
No one dares to move with the barrel of the gun staring at them, instead they raise their hands in the air or curl in up in a ball on the marble floor.
“I want all of you to sit pretty for a little while, I don’t really want to hurt any of you but if you move even a muscle, I won’t hesitate to blow your brains out and paint a picture on these lovely marble walls with your innards.” He walks slowly into the middle of the room - the manager now sweating heavily under Justin’s grip - and still wears a devilish grin on his lips. “Now, come on Mr. Bank Manager. You’re gonna show me where you keep your treasure.”
“W-what do you want?” the shaking mess asks hesitantly.
“Have you not caught on yet? I want all of your money. D’you think you’ll be able to show me where you keep it?”
“We, we don’t keep it all here, on-only a percentage-“
“And that percentage is what I’m after. Lead the way, Sir,” Justin chuckles roughly into the manager’s ear and it sends a shiver down his spine. His feet threaten to give way beneath him but Justin’s grip forces him to stay on the balls of his feet.
The two men walk slowly around the room, Justin’s gun glares at anyone that makes the slightest movement or the slightest whimper of panic.
“There’s s-some in there.” A shaking finger points towards the cash register behind the high marble desk. “We have tills to-“
“I don’t need to know the bank’s fucking history,” Justin hisses and begins to stride towards the till. He frees the man of his strong hold and points the gun towards his head. “Open it.”
While Justin is busy making his way around the machines and the hidden safes throughout the bank, Y/N hangs around outside under the warm sun. There’s a gun hidden in the depth of her jacket and she can feel its figure against the palm of her hand. She can feel the high levels of power she has with such an object and it sends a wave of recklessness through her entire being.
She risks a glance inside every now and then and she’s able to see Justin pacing around. His hair falls in his face and every now and then, he’ll bother to swipe it back. She remembers the feeling of each strand passing her fingers when she does it for him.
He doesn’t have the slightest look of doubt or fear in the way the way he presents himself and she licks her lips with lust for him.
She realises she’s distracted herself and she quickly shifts her attention back to her surroundings. There’s men and women going about their day, oblivious to what they’d witness if they just turned their attention to anything but their phones or the pavement passing under their feet.
It takes at least another ten minutes before her phone buzzes in her pocket. Not wanting to look too suspicious, she takes her time pulling it out and answering it.
“Get in here, babygirl,” Justin’s deep voice rasps through her ear as though he was stood directly beside here. “I have some friends I want you to meet.” A throaty chuckle chases his words before the line cuts off. I turn on my heels and push open the double doors.
“There she is!” Justin grins madly while holding a gun to the man’s temple. “Mr. Bank Manager, you guys,” he says, waving the gun effortlessly towards the group of flinching men and women, “this is my sweetheart. Isn’t she a beauty?”
Y/N comes to Justin’s side, resting her arm on his shoulder. A small smile plays on her lips but she says nothing.
Robbing the banks and keeping watch is the part she loves; taking money from those who had too much, but frightening the victims and playing with their lives is Justin’s strong point.
“You know,” Justin starts, as though it was the first time he had spoken in a while. “This has been fun. We should do this again.”
The panic on the people’s faces doesn’t seem to disappear but instead, they seem to worsen.
“Princess.” Justin turns to look at Y/N. “After you,” he says and licks his lips when his eyes latch onto the bright red lipstick.
Y/N stares back, a subtle smirk now playing on her lips as she realises her favourite part is coming up; the part where the pair of them because insanely rich in a matter of seconds. She sways her hips because she knows Justin is watching, and her eyes shine onto the sacks that having kindly been filled to the brim with wads of money. She guessed it was Justin’s way of keeping the group busy.
“Well,” Justin announces. “We’ll be getting off.” Y/N can almost hear the relief setting into everyone’s bodies at Justin’s words. “Is the van outside?” he mutters into her ear. It startles her because she isn’t aware he’d moved across the room. Turning to look at him, she can see him watching her with a hungry look. She nods. “Grab a bag, baby, this is all yours.”
She’s unable to let the idea of it have an affect on her because his lips come in contact with hers and she’s taken under. They’re hot, harsh and hungry for her, and she’s more than happy to give they what they want. Justin growls against her lips in the way he knows she loves, a wave of affection washes over her.
All the while, the gun in Justin’s hand has lowered and Y/N thought it was lucky that no one in the room had the confidence to strike while Justin was distracted.
She watches for a moment as he while his phone out of his pocket to call the few men they had dragged along to help them at this time. Y/N can’t help but notice how the roughness of his face makes him look so attractive. He has a slight mad look in his eyes and she adores it. She remembers a few nights ago when she told him she thought a beard would suit him, and she notices he’s now a few days unshaven.
He turns back to the crowd and continues watching guard, the gun was now in full force. She has to shake her head from left to right to bring herself out of the trance she’d fallen into before grabbing a few of the hefty bags and heading for the door. It opens as her fingers are about to wrap around it, and three familiar faces appear.
She doesn’t have to speak to them; they merely nod at her before silently making their way towards the heap of bags of money. Y/N can hear Justin entertaining the group as they load the van.
Because they’re eager to escape with success, it takes just under fifteen minutes for all the bags to be transferred. Once they’re ready, Justin begins to retreat for the door, making sure the group of - still - shaking men and women don’t move a muscle.
“If you’re going to call the police, please refrain from doing so until we’ve managed to get within a decent radius,” Justin chuckles and the hard grin makes another appearance. “Pleasant day to you all.”
He makes an effort to get to the door as quick as his feet can take him, and once the door is slammed shut and the cool wind is stroking his skin, he lets out a breath before jumping into the front seat of the van. It feels heavy with success.
“Get out,” he says to the three men hunched over in the back. He speaks again before they can protest. “You’ll get your share soon, just get out, and I’d run if I were you.”
A few incoherent curse words are thrown into the air but Justin doesn’t seem to care. The door is slammed shut and not even a second later, Justin and Y/N are gliding around the back of the building at full speed.
“We did it again, babydoll,” Justin grins with triumph, it seems to get bigger when his foot steps harder against the pedal. The engine roars like a riled lion.
“When do we ever fail?” She returns the grin and a familiar look washes across his face like a mask.
“You can have anything you want. What do you want, baby? Anything in your wildest dreams, it can be yours.”
Justin loves her response, and he has to refrain from growling. A hot rush blinds his sight and he presses his foot down even further, the outside world is one big blur as they speed down the highway.
“Yeah?” he replies before throwing his head back and laughing. “That’s a very dangerous thing to say, babydoll. You know damn well if you play with fire, you get burned.”
His hair is wild and ruffled and she decides he looks beautiful.
“I could snap you like a twig, I could cut you like a rope.” He takes his eyes off of the road to look at her, and all he can see is affection. He’s overcome with adoration and is almost unable to control the hand that reaches across to touch her throat. “And you’d let me, wouldn’t you?”
The two of them are hurtling at full speed, and Justin shows now signs in slowing down. His fingers tickle her throat, but make her skin burn, too. He pressed them in deep for only a few seconds before retracting them suddenly.
“I adore you,” Justin licks his lips and Y/N feels a strong desire to bite down on the bottom one. “I very much want you to play with me, I want you to play with me, even if you know you have a relatively high chance of being burned to death.”
Justin takes Y/N’s hand in his own. His grip is strong and dominant around her small and fragile one. His hot lips drop the psychotic smirk to kiss the top of her hand, it leaves a burning sensation.
Summary : Mark is a night-shifts receptionist in his own hotel and it sucks, until one of his client turns up to be a pretty, annoying girl.
It was pure agony. The mere idea of pulling an all-nighter for the sole purpose of work was agonising. Even the old coppered clock’s hand was limping, showing the wrong hour and the time was almost passing in slow motion.
Mark groaned when the opening credits of Frasier made its way on the small and very old television set.
“Excuse me…?” He heard a voice and checked the black and white monitor, spotting a middle-aged man in a tuxedo, tapping the counter. He got up, the desk chair wincing and took a small key from the numerous ones hung up the wall.
(Here you go, the first part of the sequel to ADWD. I want to thank all the little cuties who helped make suggestions but especially @kyuubikaiju for making a suggestion similar to the title I’ve decided to use. I wanted to give you all something a little more hopeful to make up for the hell that was Pt. 6&7 because I love you all bunches and bunches! I’ve been feeling kinda down lately, and it helped me to write this, like writer therapy or something. So I hope you enjoy! *and I’ll stop rambling now*)
“Why doesn’t he remember me?”
“Simple, I took his memories of you.”
“Give them back.”
“Let me out of this cell.”
Amy lunges for Dark, but Google catches her. “You’ve done
enough, Amy. You should be resting, not interrogating your attacker.”
“He’s taken Mark from me! And where’s Wilford?” she asks
with a hiss. Amy stares at Dark like her gaze might burn right through. “What
did you do with him?”
“He’s alive.” A trail of blood runs from the corner of Dark’s
mouth down to his jaw where it drips onto his torn slacks. “That should be a
Amy fights against Google’s hold, and the droid is growing
impatient. “That’s enough, Amy! He won’t tell us anymore now!” He motions to
Oliver who takes Amy and leads her out of the basement.
“Where are you taking me?” Amy doesn’t want to be mad at
Oliver or even Google, but right now, she’s mad at everything.
“Where would you like to go? It would be inadvisable to be
alone at this present time,” Oliver says eagerly. “Maybe I could take you home?
Explain to the others what happened? The love of your friends would be
beneficial at such a time as this.”
Amy shakes her head. She doesn’t want the others to know
about this, not yet anyway. “Take me to see the Host. I want to ask him
Oliver smiles and nods. “This seems acceptable!” The Host is
waiting when the elevator arrives with a blanket draped over his arm and a cup
of chamomile tea in hand. Oliver seems satisfied that Host has things covered and
leaves the two of them alone.
“I knew you would be coming back, so I got together some things
that I thought might comfort you…” Host nervously offers her the cup of tea. “Was
I right to do this?”
Amy sets the cup aside and ducks her head. “Host, can I have
a hug?” In answer, the Host wraps both the blanket and his arms around Amy’s
shoulders. Up until this point, Amy hasn’t really allowed herself to cry, not
when she wasn’t having a complete mental breakdown anyway. And the Host is so
She sobs until she’s run fresh out of tears, and then she
hiccups into his chest until the Host pulls away and pushes the cup of tea back
into her hands. “Drink this, please,” he says softly.
Between sips of the soothing tea Amy asks, “Host, can you
make me forget?”
Host seems confused by her question at first, but then he
understands. “No, Amy. I—it just wouldn’t be right to do that.”
“I just want to forget this whole awful thing, and maybe if I
forgot Mark too…” her voice trails off. Maybe if she forgot Mark and the Egos,
maybe her heart wouldn’t be hurting so much right now. Maybe she wouldn’t be
sitting on the floor of a blind man’s library sipping tea and sobbing into his trench
coat. Maybe, maybe, maybe… “I saw what you did for the Doctor, how you made him
relax. C-can you at least help me sleep?”
Host nods slowly. He helps her to her feet, leading her
through the library to his room where he very seldom sleeps himself, and tucks
her into his bed. “How about I tell you a story to help you sleep?” Amy nods,
closes her eyes, and tries to relax.
“Once upon a time, there was a princess held captive in a
tower by an evil sorcerer. The princess had many admirers, and they each loved
her truly. However, none of them could best the sorcerer, and they fell into
his traps one by one. So, in order to save her friends, the princess full of
golden light, fought the dark sorcerer until finally he was beaten.”
Amy feels the words brushing over her mind like a warm,
gentle breeze. It takes her back to the day in the park with Host when she told
him about the clouds, and the flowers, and the trees. Slowly, her muscles
relax, and Amy falls asleep with a pleasant smile on her lips. But the Host continues his story.
“When the evil sorcerer was defeated, the princess realized
she had lost much, but one of her companions swore a promise to her. He would
do whatever it took, no matter the cost, to bring those lost things back. So that
they could all live happily ever after.”
With that, the Host steps quietly from the bedroom and heads
for the basement.
(I have so much respect for them it’s not even funny, every time someone asks me how/why I started writing I tell them a super exciting story about three brilliant writers and if you read their work, you will be BLESSED and inspired its like MAGIC)
Prompt(s): ghibli, runaway
there was only one thing in my heart while writing this and that was Kamisama Hajimemashita :((
She was a terrible person, she was sure of it.
Sakura pulled her knees in tighter, trying to merge with the rough bark of the tree that sheltered her from the rain. Her eyes were wet, not from the raindrops but from the guilt of what she had done.
A tiny part of her told her she hadn’t had a choice, that Ino would be out of there soon enough and Ino was the one who told her to run. Her fingers curled around a broken arrow. It was better than nothing.
(With all the dark and angsty headcanons I’ve been doing lately, I need to do some happy ones otherwise my head will explode)
Headcanon that Tim has a thing for taking candid photos of Stephanie when she doesn’t expect it. He likes to hide where she won’t see him and take pictures of her doing normal everyday things like drinking coffee or folding laundry. He has them all compiled in a huge photo album titled “Stephanie’s Prettiest Moments,” and by now he’s got hundreds of cute photos in there. Some gems:
• A photo of Steph, taken from behind as she dances around the kitchen in sock feet while making pancakes
• Blushing Steph standing in a doorway, trying not to smile as a toothbrush hangs from her mouth and her hand can be seen trying to block her face from the camera
• Steph sleeping on the floor with her legs propped on the couch and Alfred the Cat curled up on her stomach. A book lays sprawled open next to her
• Angry Steph flipping off the camera as Alfred tends to a gunshot wound on her leg. Dick can be seen laughing in the background
• Sick Steph curled up on the couch, snuggled cozily in a blanket so only her eyes and nose are visible. Piles of tissues and stacks of DVDs surround her and steam can be seen from a bowl of soup on the coffee table
• Steph posing with a new CD she got for Christmas, perched happily under the tree with a Santa hat and tinsel wrapped around her neck like a scarf. She’s in fluffy snowman pajamas and reindeer slippers, and there’s the smallest hint of an eggnog mustache on her lip
• Steph early in the morning without any makeup on yet, smiling as she watches cartoons. The photo is taken from around Tim’s body, and his arm can be seen around Steph’s shoulder, so it’s clear that he was trying to be sneaky and took it while they had been cuddling side by side on the couch together
• Steph with tears streaming down her face, in the middle of throwing a pillow at Tim while the ending scene from Toy Story 3 can be seen on the tv in the background
• Steph half asleep with a freshly brewed cup of coffee in her hands, wearing one of Tim’s old shirts that stops at her knees paired with knee length cat socks. Her hair is in a wild disarray, and despite her tiredness she’s giving a small smile to the camera
• Steph sitting in a library, books scattered around her as she reads with a look of intense concentration on her face, her brows wrinkled in thought and her teeth chewing her bottom lip. The camera is angled from just below the table and half the screen is blocked by it, as if Tim was trying very hard not to be seen taking the picture
• Steph trying to get what looks like eggs and flour out of her hair. Various ingredients scatter the kitchen, and one can easily deduce it was taken after a food fight gone wrong. There’s cocoa powder blurring the camera lens, giving the photo an odd appearance
• Steph sitting on a picnic blanket atop some grass, gazing at the sky as pink and green fireworks burst above. It’s dark, so you can see mostly only shadows on her face, but the lights from the fireworks make her eyes appear to glow
• Steph running on a treadmill in workout clothes with ear buds in her ears. The photo’s taken from at least twenty feet away behind an elliptical machine
• This one is taken from what’s obviously the inside of a closet, and you can only see through a small crack in the door. Steph is seen in their bedroom, wearing an old t-shirt and sweatpants as she dances around the room and sings into a hairbrush
• Steph with her eyes half closed and pink frosting on the corner of her mouth as she bites into a cupcake
• Steph laying back on a beach towel, wearing a purple bikini and sunglasses. She can obviously see Tim taking her picture, but she’s too busy relaxing to care
• There’s one photo where it’s actually Tim in the shot, and this one was clearly taken by Stephanie. Tim’s sleeping with his head on multiple papers and files on his desk, a cold cup of coffee and some old takeout containers beside him
• Steph sleeping sprawled out and taking up the entire bed, her hair tangled around the pillow like golden seaweed and the covers in a heap on the floor, likely after being kicked off in her sleep
• Steph sitting on top of Damian, who’s red faced and looks ready to kill. The shot is blurry, as though the person with the camera was laughing when he took it
• This shot is blurry as well. It’s a close up selfie of Steph’s face with Tim’s face rushing into the frame, planting a huge impromptu kiss on her cheek. Steph looks surprised, as if shocked out of focus, and one can easily deduce that Tim snuck up on her for a peck
• Steph from behind in a long mauve gown, her arms up and her fingers working intricately on her hair. Her face cannot be seen, and she’s too busy concentrating to notice that Tim’s in the room. There’s a floor length mirror in the frame, so you can see Tim as well, clad in a nice tux and his hair gelled back with a camera in hand
• A blurry photo of Steph laughing, her nose crinkled and her eyes shut as she giggles at something funny Tim said
• One is taken by Cass, who hijacked Tim’s camera and snuck up on the couple, getting a shot of them with their faces an inch away from each other, caught as they leaned in for a kiss
• Steph leaning over the back of the chair to the batcomputer as Bruce points to something on the screen. Jason is next to Steph, but he’s the only one who noticed Tim and his camera. He’s smiling wryly as he holds up the middle finger with one hand and gives Steph bunny ears with the other
• Steph in the middle of the ocean, awkwardly surfing a high wave. The shot is angled as though Tim was dropping the camera as it was taken, likely to help Steph out because she’s actually falling off the surfboard
• Steph in the opposite end of a booth at a diner, grinning and laughing as Tim’s finger dots a dollop of whipped cream on the tip of her nose
Swallowing, she accepts the call and hits the speaker button while simultaneously pausing her fourth-in-a-row rerun episode of Project Runway.
“Hey,” she says into the room and the mic of her phone.
“Hey,” Yoongi’s voice comes through the speaker, his deep voice slightly muffled from the terrible phone service she gets. “How are you doing?”
She clears her throat and answers, “Well, I just ate three packets of Annie’s gummy bunnies for dinner, so that probably answers your question.”
“That bad, huh?” he asks. She’s silent, and she hears him sigh over the increasing crackle of a poor-quality phone call. “Mina, I wish you’d talk to me.”
Her laugh comes out strangled and she looks up at the ceiling of her apartment. “I just… I feel like I’ve said everything I can say. At least without repeating myself, you know?”
“I know you – repeating–”
“–Yoongi, I’m sorry, I can’t hear shit again, you know my service is so bad. Text me?”
“No, I hate – about stuff like thi – coming over, okay?”
He either ends the call before she can answer or it drops altogether and Mina lets out an ugh. She contemplates a quick shower before he gets to her place–she’ll have time. She knows for certain he’ll pick up food first, unsatisfied with her sugar-and-gelatin dinner. Her hair is just in need of a wash, and while her face was clean and dewy with what felt like a thirty-step skincare routine, she knew her dark circles were more purpled than usual and her skin-tone was looking a bit on the sallow side.
oh look another oliness fic actually, this is more of a scene that would fit probably pretty nicely somewhere much later down the line. it’s cute fjflksfd and it doesn’t really have too much direction but its CUTE
this is completely sfw btw!!!! also a couple notes:
-PDA makes nessa so embarrassed lol -Oliver speaks Aelish, a language from the country of Aelia, which is where this takes place
i think that’s about it lol i hope u enjoy it!
She wonders how Oliver would kiss her if there was no reason to hold back.
Nessa draws forth the memory of how he looked today. He’d been wearing a loose, white shirt with short sleeves and a slight v-neck to give him better mobility as he swung his sword around to parry off Adam’s blows. He’d carried a smug air of confidence and it was incredible, she thought, how he was able to hold his own so well against someone she knew was military trained. His slick brown skin had been warm with the flush of exercise. Even now, she can still hear the chorus of his laughter as he stumbled and narrowly missed being cuffed by Adam’s sword.
She shivers. He hadn’t known she’d been watching - Nessa hadn’t even meant to stop and stare. She was merely passing the training yard on her way to the stables when she saw him. He was mesmerizing and he’d made her weak. All she could do was remember how good it feels to kiss him, how he graciously responds to her touch, the way he chases after her even as she pulls away to breathe.
Prompt for @olicityficchallenge: picture of a Nerf gun left next to a note that says “Welcome home from work! Two things: 1) this gun with ammo is yours 2) I have one too and you’re under attack as of now.”
I am get behind on these. I have all but one of them written out though, just need to edit, so there will be more where this came from. Shortly. I am hoping to be caught up by tomorrow in time for the final prompt :)
They were lying in wait.
That was Felicity’s over dramatic way of saying they were waiting for Oliver to get home. He’d been called away on mayoral business—she’d never get used to Oliver being the mayor—and had left Felicity alone… with William.
For the first time.
To say she’d been terrified when Oliver told her he needed to leave for a few hours, was the understatement of the year.
Felicity wasn’t a kid person. She liked kids, of course, but she’d never been around kids. She hadn’t had any siblings, or friends with kids. Baby Sara was different, because she was only two. She just sat there playing with her toys and loving everybody. But William was almost ten. He had thoughts and opinions, and she was terrified he was going to hate her. Or worse, that she would be uncomfortable around him the entire time.
Being uncomfortable around Oliver’s son was possibly the worst thing she could imagine. What if that meant she was just no good with kids? What if she felt just as uncomfortable when it was her and Oliver’s child?
Oliver was so good with William, like it was instinctual. Maybe it was, or maybe it was just practice from growing up with Thea. All Felicity knew was that something clicked in him around William and he became “good dad”, while Felicity always just felt like she was floundering. Maybe it was because her relationship with her mother had always been so different than most people’s or because her relationship with her father was practically nonexistent.
But no matter how awkward she felt around William, Felicity was never going to stop trying to connect with him. She couldn’t. He was Oliver’s, and she might not have liked the way she learned about William, but she liked the boy himself. He was a sweet kid, and he reminded her so much of Oliver sometimes. It always caught her off guard when he’d make a face or ask a question that just shouted “Oliver!” to her. But they hadn’t spent much time alone, maybe a minute or two here and there. And Felicity wasn’t sure how to handle a relationship with him.
So, when Oliver had left for work and William sat down on the couch, fiddling with his action figure, looking decidedly less happy than when his mom had dropped him off that morning, Felicity knew she had to do something. This was a bonding moment and she wasn’t going to waste it.
“Let’s go,” she’d said, gesturing for him to get his coat.
William jumped up immediately, walking to the door and putting on his tiny parka. “Where are we going?” he’d asked, zipping the jacket up.
“Um…” Felicity hadn’t planned that far ahead, unfortunately, but she had always been quick on her toes. “The toy store!”
William had given her a skeptical, but hopeful look. “For what?”
Felicity had knelt down beside the boy. “We could get a game,” she’d said. “Or something to keep us entertained until your dad comes home. Maybe we could…”
Felicity had trailed off, having remembered something she’d seen on the Internet.
“I know exactly what we can do,” she’d told him excitedly, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder and steering him towards the door as she let him in on her plan.
Now, the two of them were crouched behind the railing of the second story of the loft. Waiting.
“How long ago did he text?” William asked, neatly sorting the orange foam bullets into easy to reach piles beside them.
“Fifteen minutes,” Felicity said, pulling up Oliver’s GPS on her phone to check his location. She smiled when she saw that Oliver was already in the building. “You ready, over there?” she asked, and William nodded. “Good, because he’s here.”
William grinned and tugged the Nerf gun to his chest, finger already getting twitchy on the trigger.
“Not until I give the signal,” she reminded him as they heard the sound of Oliver’s key in the lock.
William nodded, oddly serious for a child about to unload a gun full of foamy bullets into his father.
“Felicity?” Oliver called as he entered the loft. From their hiding spot they could make out his back as he walked into the room. “William? You guys here?”
Felicity could see William cracking. His smile was huge—which tugged at a place inside Felicity that she’d never felt until that very moment—and he began to fidget.
“Not yet,” Felicity whispered as silently as possible. It did not surprise Felicity in the least that Oliver’s son was turning out to be just as impatient as the man himself. Like father, like son, she supposed.
But William got himself under control, just as Oliver turned to the kitchen and the note that they’d left for him there. Along with his very own Nerf gun.
She peaked through the glass of the railing, watching as he read the note. She could practically see him slip into Arrow mode when he realized what was about to happen.
The moment his hand reached for the gun, Felicity gave the signal, nodding her head at William, and together they both leaped to their feet, unleashing a hail of orange foam at Oliver’s back. Oliver spun around the moment he heard movement, but unlike Felicity and William, he only shot one Nerf bullet. It flew up, but bounced off the glass railing before it could hit either of them.
She could see him take in the dart’s path, studying the way the foamy projectile flew through the air and the angle at which he held the toy gun like it was life or death. Then he unloaded two more darts, all the while evading the spray of falling foam from his fiancé and son.
His first dart flew low, but straight, bouncing soundly off of William’s forehead. Felicity watched as the boy rubbed the spot between his eyes with a grumbled, “Ow!”
Something orange struck her glasses before she could even process that Oliver had somehow hit William squarely between the eyes with a foam dart, from at least fifteen feet away. Her surprise that Oliver had been able to do the exact same thing to her caused her to take a step back.
He was an amazing shot, but with foam projectiles? She was more than a little impressed. And surprisingly turned on.
Oliver used their surprise and distraction to bound up the stairs towards them. Without even slowing his pace, he scooped up William before the boy could reload his Nerf gun, his little legs trailing out behind him as Oliver spun him in a circle.
Felicity would never get over the look on Oliver’s face whenever he played with his son. Whether it was action figures or video games, or something as simple as spinning in a circle, Oliver was a great dad and he loved spending time with William. Felicity knew it for a fact, and it only made her love him all the more.
He met her eyes, placing William back on his feet, and leaned down towards her. “Thank you,” he whispered, emotion choking his voice.
Felicity shook her head. “You don’t have to thank me.”
Oliver leaned closer, his lips just inches from her’s when Felicity was suddenly being pelted by a barrage of darts. Oliver laughed, pulling her into his chest to protect her from his son’s sneak attack.
“There’s no kissing in war!” William exclaimed. “He’s the enemy, Felicity! You can’t kiss the enemy during a battle.”
Felicity laughed, throwing the kid a wink and backing up from Oliver. “He’s right,” she said, bending down to pick something up from the stash of weapons they’d bought at the toy store.
She stood, wielding a foam sword in front of her fiancé. She’d never handled a sword before, not for fighting purposes anyway, but she tried to mimic the technique she’d seen Oliver and Thea use.
Oliver laughed, blue eyes twinkling as he watched her. He raised an eyebrow when she stepped towards him, twirling the sword in her hand.
He raised his hands defensively and whispered, “Would you take it easy on me if I said you look incredibly hot right now?”
Felicity laughed, then tilted her head, giving him a contemplative look. “You know, I might… but I don’t think my partner is up for that kind of deal.”
Just then William jumped out from behind Oliver with a yell, Nerf sword in hand like he was in some sort of bad martial arts movie. He waved the toy back and forth like he was already in battle.
Oliver spotted a third sword on the ground and bent quickly to pick it up, taking a step away from the two of them. With the sword held out in front of him, he crooked his fingers at his son—going right along with the bad martial arts movie vibe William had going—challenging him to attack.
And William did.
Leaning back against the railing, Felicity watched Oliver duel his son in Nerf swords. As far as duels Oliver has participated in, this was the only one Felicity had ever felt the urge to document. She pulled her phone from her back pocket, pulling up her camera app and hitting record. She’d have to make sure Samantha got a copy of this.
William was trying to take Oliver down, and even with a foam sword, Oliver blocked him. Not every blow, but enough that it was a challenge for William. Then, with a surge forward, William swung the sword, hitting Oliver squarely in the hip and Oliver groaned exaggeratedly, falling to his knees.
“Ugh,” Oliver moaned dramatically, “you got me.”
William threw his hands in the air, sword held high above his head, celebrating his victory. Oliver watched him with a small, happy smile on his face, then reached forward pulling the boy to his chest.
“Dad!” William laughed as Oliver dragged him down to the floor, tickling the boy’s sides. “Felicity, help me!”
Felicity put her phone away, leaping into the fray, tickling Oliver and trying to turn the tables.
With Oliver’s attention on Felicity, William ran to get his Nerf gun, reloading it and pointing it in their direction.
“Dad wins round one,” William announced, as Felicity and Oliver sat up to look at him. “But Felicity and I are going to win round two.”
He tossed a loaded Nerf gun to Felicity and reached out to help her up, even though he was half her size.
“Let’s go Felicity! We gotta hide so Dad doesn’t beat us right away!”
Felicity grinned, getting to her feet. “You ready for round two?” she asked Oliver as he stood beside her.
He leaned in, a smug smile on his face as he kissed the side of her head and whispered, “I’ll always be ready for round two with you, Felicity, but it will have to wait. I have to kick your cute little ass in a Nerf war first.”
Felicity blushed, but she couldn’t wipe the grin off her face as she raced William to the other side of the loft, preparing to win this war and wipe that smug look off of Oliver’s face.