why I still make pathetic attempts at this I really don't know

anonymous asked:

Can I request an imagine where Zen is in a daze while MC visits him and confesses he loves her while she's doing some normal thing?

This is such a cute and sweet request anonny! Although I am going to apologize in advance, at times I feel like I don’t write Zen’s character correctly, if that makes sense. I mean, I love him and he’s a great character but I feel like I don’t always portray him right plus I find it difficult at times to come up with realistic scenarios for him. So if this veers to far off from Zen’s character, please let me know so that I can change it! But thank you for the request and I hope that you enjoy!! ^^


  • Ever since the first day you appeared on the messenger, Zen gravitated towards you, although he wasn’t sure why in the beginning
  • Zen, the one of the most beautiful, talented, and charismatic men to walk the streets of Korea and could have any woman out there, some even tried to do whatever it took to make them his
  • But he knew his soulmate was out there, waiting for him so he patiently waited
  • The more time that passed by the more Zen started losing hope of ever finding his true love, until one fateful day when you showed up
  • The eleven days you were on the messenger were some of the best days of Zen’s life
  • Even though he couldn’t see you, your messages of encouragement and humor made him smile and chuckle while every time he listened to you when you called him, his heart fluttered with joy and love
  • While Zen did shamelessly flirt with you over the messenger, he frowned when you would brush off his attempts as jokes
  • Seeing you being so friendly with the other RFA members sliced deep in Zen’s heart, he wasn’t usually the jealous type but his love for you was stronger than any other he’s ever had
  • So he tried his best to show you that he wasn’t just an egotistical narcissist and it seemed that you were starting to warm up to him
  • All seemed to be going well until an Unknown man tried to harm you and take you away
  • Zen had never felt such anger in his life, he knew that he the reason he was feeling so much rage was because of his love for you
  • Even after saving you from the Unknown man, Zen was still apprehensive about telling you his feelings, he knew that you were still shaken up from the night’s events
  • When the night of the first RFA party came, Zen felt strange - He was completely fine talking normally to you but when it came to confessing his feelings, he felt himself become tongue-tied
  • Zen couldn’t understand why he was so nervous about telling you his feelings of love towards you, but if he had to guess, it was fear of you rejecting him
  • So he figured to try and get to know you as much as possible then maybe he would be more comfortable expressing his love to you
  • After about a month since your first RFA party, Zen was still a hopeless romantic
  • But the two of you became close friends, something that Zen loved and hated at the same time
  • One day, he invited you over to watch one of his newest musicals on DVD since you were too sick at the time to attend the performance in person
  • Your eyes lit up as soon as Zen opened the front door for you, you gave him a tight hug saying “I missed you, Zenny! I’m excited to finally see you performing, even if it isn’t live.“
  • Zen could only nod in response, your upbeat and cheery attitude was one of the many reasons this man was in love with you
  • “Why don’t you set up the DVD while I make us some tea, okay Zen?” You asked Zen as he mumbled his agreement
  • Once Zen had the performance ready on his tv, he flopped himself on his couch and sighed, running his hands through his long bangs
  • “My God, MC, I just, I love you so much. Is it even possible to love someone this much? Every time I look into your eyes I get lost in your beauty. You’re so special to me, you accept me for who I am and have supported me so much, how could I not completely fall head over heels for you? I don’t get why it’s so hard for me to say this to you face to face… I will always love you, my precious MC.”
  • Zen snapped out of the strange daze he was in when he heard you gasp, your hands shaking as you held two cups of tea
  • “O-oh, MC, I don’t know what came over me! Just uh, just forget everything I said okay? Sorry about that…” Zen frantically stated as he jumped up from the couch
  • He assumed you would laugh at his pathetic statement or scoff at his rude boldness but what you did stunned Zen
  • You bit your quivering lip to try and stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks, Zen blinked in surprise at your reactions
  • “Oh no I should be the one apologizing Zen! I didn’t mean to eavesdrop on your, um, conversation.” You told him as you furiously wiped your teary eyes
  • Zen chuckled softly, gently removing your hands from your eyes as he wiped your remaining tears away with his thumb
  • “Well, every word that I said is true, MC. I love you with all of my heart. I know that I’m usually such an open and talkative guy but it’s been so difficult to express my feelings for you for some reason. But honestly, I’m glad that you heard my confession MC because every single word of it is true.” Zen firmly told you as you gazed into his determined ruby eyes
  • Now it was your turn to giggle as you placed a small kiss to Zen’s cheek, smiling as you said “Then I guess it’s a good thing that I love you back Zen! It was a really beautiful confession and I’m glad that I overheard you. I truly love you too, Zen.”
  • Zen smiled broadly as he pulled you in for a proper, long, and loving kiss, which you happily returned
  • While it may have been an awkward confession, Zen was more than happy that you both had mutual feelings for each other, a bond of love that would never be broken
Embrace (Drabble)

!!!💛 💛 💛!!! Hi there!! I also really like your stuff and your new theme is super cool! As for panic attacks, I have never had one myself, so I hope I have done this request some justice. THANKS FOR THE REQUEST!!

It didn’t happen often, but when it does, Hanzo usually tries his utmost to keep it a secret. Even from you. The (ex-)heir to the Shimada clan does not give into weaknesses like these. But there are times when its catches him by surprise, such as tonight. 

Hanzo shoots up in his bed, grabbing at his night shirt even before he awakens, a harsh sweat like he’s been dunked in a pool rather than lying in his own bed. It feels like he’s been drowning, too. An unfettered fear coursing through his veins makes his stomach twist and turn unpleasantly, his body shakes with such intensity, it rattles his very bones. Mind still addled with sleep, he accidentally slams his back against a thin wall, struggling to kick away the blankets that have tangled themselves around his legs like snakes. He barely succeeds. 

Against his will, a strangled cry gets cut off in his throat. No, he knows what this is. This isn’t real. He’s fine. He’s fine

The door then slides open, and his senses go into overdrive when he registers a shape tumble inside in a hurry. Additional panic of someone finding him in this state compounds the problem that he cannot articulate. Instead, his mouth hangs open unsightly, taking in heaving wheezes of air that he can’t seem to get enough of. He could feel the dragons rolling anxiously underneath his skin, adding to the sense of danger that already frazzles his nerves. 

“Hanzo! Are you okay?” 

He starts, and recoils violently from your hand, certain the dragons will attack. He could barely control his own body. “No. No, no…” 

Why you? Why did it have to be you? You’re one of the last people that he’d want to catch him like this. 

“Do you want me to get Angela or Lúcio or–” The words barely make sense in his head, but when he hears their names, he shakes his head violently at the suggestion. No, no, he can’t be seen like this. Not by anyone else. You can’t. His wheezing gets harder, and he can no longer muster the strength to speak. 

“How can I help you?” Hanzo could hear the growing desperation into your voice, but can’t grasp the significance of it. Too focused on trying to control himself, compose himself into the reliable and unflappable man that he was–is. Trying to calm himself and not succeeding only shackles him to the endless cycle. It will pass. It will pass. 

But why isn’t it?

He doesn’t realize that he hasn’t answered you, too lost in his own mind and the pressure that continues to choke him. You take a sharp intake of air, before you settle yourself into his bed, trying once again to reach him. The dragons slide just underneath the surface of his arm, and they shoot out, much to his dismay. He cries out despite himself–you’re going to get killed because he’s weak, the dragons are going to take another important thing away–and sees them wrap themselves around your arms, urging you toward him. 

A split second of clarity–the dragons want you to help–breaks through his haze of panic and fear, long enough for you to pull him towards you, politely ignoring just how wet the sheets were and how sweaty he is. He leans all of his body weight against you, allowing you to maneuver him between your legs and rest his head back against your chest. He doesn’t trust himself anymore. 

Hanzo could feel your breathing, deliberate and steady in his ear. He did his best to follow. In-two-three-four-five-six. Out-two-three-four-five-six. In. Out. Your fingers that card themselves through his loose hair helps. He only vaguely realizes that even his locks were damp, but you continue your motions anyway. In. Out. One, two, three…

The panic inside him that was attempting to fight is way out in every which way it could began to calm. It burns itself out like a fire starved of oxygen. His nerves sing, still buzzing with the aftermath. He could feel the dragons settle back into his being slowly. 

“Talk,” he rasps weakly, grabbing at your knee by his waist. He wants to hear your voice. He wants it to drown out his thoughts that have retreated to the edge of his mind, but are soon to return. “Anything. Talk. Please.” 

You pause, the anchoring breathing no longer in his ear and for a moment, the chilled spike of fear returns, edging his stomach, threatening to plunge itself in. No, he can’t this again. Not again.

“…during the last mission we had, McCree took us to this Brazilian coffee joint. He said it was the best coffee in the area, it was in this alley that looks really sketchy. Typical, huh? And so, we went…”

The encroaching fear begins to retreat, like the darkness being exposed to light, the light being your voice. Slowly, but surely, calm seeps its way into his body, and he sinks bonelessly into your embrace, suddenly exhausted but not sleepy. The hands that continue to massage his scalp and brush his hair do much to assist. 

Later, he’d apologize for showing you such a pathetic side of him, and for making you hold him when he’s unpleasantly sticky with sweat, and caring for him by sacrificing your sleep. He’s grateful beyond words, but his tongue lies heavy in his mouth, and it takes all the energy he has to just focus. But for now, he lays quietly in your arms. More than once, he almost falls asleep to the steady rhythm of your heart and the sound of your voice, comforting in his ear. 

Get Together

There may be a sequel to this and if there is it’ll probs be smutty.

part. ii


Lily could feel the glares coming from behind her, burning into her neck, as they had been for the past few days. She turned in her seat to find three pairs of eyes squinted in differing amounts of disgust.

Peter was sat, slumped low in his seat, shaking his head slightly while his eyes stayed pinned on her as he muttered to the other two sat at the table in the corner of the Gryffindor common room. Remus’ glare wasn’t quite as harsh as the other two but it held an element of disappointment that caused Lily’s insides to squirm slightly. Sirius’ chin was resting on his forearms on the table but his gaze held the most animosity, grey eyes cold and harsh from across the almost empty room. Lily turned away from the three marauders hastily, attempting to ignore the fact that they were still glaring.

Lily was sat by the fire in one of the armchairs, re-reading her transfiguration essay one final time before bed, where most of Gryffindor house were. The common room held a small huddle of fourth years playing exploding snap, two sixth years working on essays in the corner, the three marauders and Lily.

Lily hadn’t seen James since their Head’s meeting earlier that evening, where they’d worked through the prefects rotas and plans for the upcoming Christmas party. He’d disappeared as soon as it was over, not bothering to hang around and chat as they had been doing since the beginning of the year, something that had often led to them snogging each other in whatever room they occupied until Lily pulled away and left hurriedly. For the last few weeks though, James had been ignoring all of Lily’s advances. She didn’t know whether he was playing hard to get or whether her attempts were just falling flat. But it hurt…she likedJames Potter…a lot…and she had thought he’d liked her…


Keep reading

Okay it just hurts me so much, the MCU and I can’t take it.

Warning: It’s my own opinion, I know people would disagree and I’m not looking for a fight. So if you’re here to start one, please don’t. If you just wanna give your opinion (in which i will totally respect), it’s cool. 

Tony Stark is not the villain. Yes, he has his PTSDs and wrong choices;
Howard Stark not caring enough (proven when he voiced his disbelief to Fury on how much his father spoke of him). Obadiah Stane’s betrayal. Ultron’s creation when all he wanted was Vision, please keep in mind he lost J.A.R.V.I.S. in the process, and I know you know how much it meant to him, he’s more than just an A.I. to Tony, he’s family.

Steve Rogers is not the villain. Yes, he has his own fair share of PTSDs and conflicted emotions;
WWII? Peggy? Feelings of longing because he’s just not home, he’s in a totally different world and he’s lost and to know that the one person who could remind him of home is alive and lost as well, fuck, of course he’s gonna do all he can to save the guy.

Bucky Barnes is not the villain. Yes, he also has his PTSDs and tons of regret building inside him; 
He regrets all his Winter Soldier activities and blames himself for it. His expressions show so much emotion, emotion that you can tell but can’t exactly read and that’s the main idea- it’s a jumble of mess in his head right now. He managed to not return to Hydra and want to just live life normally, probably find out who exactly he is now because no he isn’t Sergeant Barnes neither is he the Winter Soldier. He’s like a lost puppy and he just wants to feel again, and his plums.


I know Tony has his wrongs. He has a part in Ultron,yes,  although I mentioned strongly that Vision was his end goal, and that there are a few other individuals involved in the process (I don’t wanna be naming them). Plus, a lot of assumptions in the fandoms have been made about him wanting to adjust the Accords accordingly (and I agree, it seems like the Tony thing to do) and the lack of communication between him and his (ex?)teammates helped contribute to ‘Civil War’. So yes, it’s partially Tony’s fault. 

Steve wanted his home, as I mentioned before, and Bucky is that home- the last remaining piece of 40s he could have. And after his awakening in the 2000s, after all these years of public pressuring him to uphold this perfect image of Captain America and robbing away him as Steve Rogers, I find it fair that he wants to be selfish (and not even entirely because he’s also doing it for Bucky) for once and break the laws.


Lying to Tony and attempting to lie to him in his face again is not right. Fighting Tony because Tony saw his mother die in front of him (albeit on screen), when he’s just lost (because I’m pretty sure that all these years Tony blamed Howard for his mother’s death, and to see the truth, he kinda lost a main link for his hatred towards his father) is not right. (I mean, protecting Bucky is definitely right but how can you not expect this to happen after keeping it a secret from him for 3 fucking years? What about “Sometimes my teammates don’t tell me things”?)

I’m convince that the other Avengers are so caught up with the image the media painted for Tony they forgot to see the man he really is, and to be living with him for years now? It’s, to me, in a sense, pathetic. And it hurts more to know that Tony probably saw all of them as friends- family, but with the way he’s being treated, well, I don’t think the feelings’ mutual.


I don’t blame Steve for everything, especially Civil War and the Accords; it’s everyone’s fault, no single individual is to be fully blamed.

I don’t hate Steve for wanting to save his closest friend, James Buchanan Barnes, because “till the end of the line”.

But for how he treats Tony, I just don’t know if I can respect him the same way I did before, either. 

dwarf-scum  asked:

Hey sorry to be that guy but like I really want to understand this because I don't think I have a good enough frame of reference. It seems to me like he's said that he didn't intend to write Reyna as anything but straight, but if you're a lesbian and you identify with her you're free to imagine her as a lesbian, but that he wouldn't write her falling in love with a woman because to him it would feel like her sexuality was a consolation prize. Could you help me understand what's wrong with that?

he’s ignoring lesbians and bi girls who are actually telling him that this is wrong. when challenged on it, he then went on to condescendingly say that he has talked with lesbians and bi women about this. i’m mad for a number of reasons, but the most hurtful one is how he acts like he has authority to speak on the issue when he so obviously doesn’t know what he is talking about.

lesbians do fail at heterosexual relationships, all the time. it is why we’re lesbians! we can’t do hetero, it never works out. the trope that we really need to be wary of isn’t that lesbians are lesbians because they fail at heterosexual relationships (which is literally true like you literally cannot be a lesbian if you do not fail at heterosexual relationships), it’s that “lesbians don’t need to have their sexuality respected bc they’re really just straight girls who’ve been hurt by guys, and if you hit on them in the right way they’ll eventually change their mind and have sex with you.”

like, this is what was, at first, frustrating to me—that he would try and attempt to invoke something that is much larger and more complicated than he understands, obviously, while literally speaking to someone who was almost certainly a lesbian or a bi girl. what makes it worse is that when called in this behavior, instead of just saying “whoops sorry i’ll do better” he said “sorry you got your feelings hurt, but i wrote emmie and jo based on personal experience and reyna is supposed to be straight.” which is just…cheap as fuck. it’s irrelevant. what does emmie and jo have to do with reyna being straight?

so instead it just comes across as “oh my god i already included a lesbian couple, what more do you want????” which…well, yeah, he can fuck right off with that attitude, mr stonewall award “i promise i won’t stop listening.”

sounds like he stopped listening! couldn’t even take like, twelve hours of criticism, instead he’s literally blocking people.

here, i can give what rick should have said, that would have still ultimately made me annoyed, but not nearly as absolutely livid and disgusted and…frankly, hurt, as i am right now: “i never planned on giving reyna a love interest, but as always, you guys are more than welcome to your interpretations and ships!”

he didn’t have to write a bunch of boiling hot nonsense about stereotypes (of which his writing is CHOCKED FULL off) and being your own better half and how reyna is supposed to be straight. he didn’t have to write a pathetic disclaimer about how he knew he was running the risk of having things “thrown” at him.

that’s why i’m really mad. he knew it would be controversial, and he didn’t care. he knew it hurt people, and he made no attempt to understand why we were hurt. he didn’t even consider that these “harmful lesbian stereotypes” literally are fabricated on the idea that bisexuality doesn’t even exist. i mean, really. i can debunk this oh so terrible stereotype in one sentence: “i didn’t turn lesbian, i’ve been bi the whole time!” -reyna. an alternative sentence: “i didn’t turn lesbian, i just never realized it before.” -reyna

see how easy?

calling a lesbian’s identity or life partner a consolation prize if they’ve been with men, before? yeah i know what people will say lmao “he didn’t say that he said he was trying to avoid that stereotype”….to which i say, right, how? how was he trying to avoid that stereotype? by not giving her a girlfriend. and so what, then, would be the logical conclusion? that this stereotype is true, and by giving a character a girlfriend, you’re invoking it. what does that mean for lesbians who have actually been with men? what does that mean for bi girls who have been with men? what kind of a fucking monstrosity of an answer is that?

more importantly: AS IF NONE OF THE LOVE INTERESTS IN HIS STORIES ARE ACTUAL CONSOLATION PRIZES? as if calypso wasn’t brought back for the sole purpose of giving leo a woman as a prize?

no, nope, the only way this awful stereotype could possibly show up is if you give a lesbian a girlfriend. but i show absolutely no self awareness of the awful tropes i’ve already enacted in my books.

and, as shell pointed out, and i echoed….the very fact that he knows giving reyna a girlfriend would invoke lesbian stereotypes is living proof of the fact that he knows reyna’s experiences and life story are consistent with that of many lesbians.

but he doesn’t care. because he’s lazy, and it takes too much effort, and at the end of the day he’s not listening to us at all, he’s just trying to make us shut up.

anonymous asked:

Greetings! Could you please write some Sherlock x reader? I really like your writing and I really need a fix of good Sherlock fics before I die of boredom. Thanks in advance!


this is prob crack woops i’m tired

“You can’t hide from me!”

Sherlock shut the door in your face.

John chuckled nervously. “Was that really necessary?”

“Did you want to hear that incessant prattling for another hour?” Sherlock replied, sounding not at the least interested. “Because I don’t.”

You had been on their case ever since you were witness to Sherlock solving a crime over three weeks ago. His perfect deductions, the way his mind worked - everything about him boggled you. Sherlock had never met anyone like you before. Instead of recoiling and cursing him for his blunt, rude behaviour like everyone else - besides John of course - you butted against everything he claimed, searching for your own answers with a fiery zeal that would burn him if he came too close. You were strange, and unpredictable, and -

The door shook as you pounded at it with your fist.

- very persistent.

“She’s been trying to have an audience with you for almost a whole month now,” John said, trying to sympathize with the odd individual on the other side of the door. “Surely she would have given up by now if it were not something important?”

“You and I both know what she’ll say, it’s the same every time. Why should I bother?”

John pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes at his flat mate. “Sherlock.”

Sherlock squinted back, knowing where this was headed. “No.”

“How about having some human compassion? Are you really that cold? I didn’t know my friend was this kind of man.”

“I don’t care.”

“Do you really?”

Sherlock growled before twisting back around and heading to the living room without a word. John smiled at his victory, opening the door.

“Hello! I’m sorry for the dela-”

You zoomed past him and up the stairs, leaving him stunned.


Sherlock pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Tell me how you did it,” You couldn’t keep still, pointing a shaky finger at him in anger.

“I’ve already told you,” Sherlock pinned you with a blank stare, the disdain dripping from his tone so thick you could taste it. “You just refuse to believe me.”

“No human being could see that much about a person in that little amount of time!” Your eye twitched. “Deductions? A mind palace?? Don’t think me a fool. It must have been some sort of trick, so I demand that you quit lying.”

This set Sherlock off.

“Lie?” He sniffed, his hand gripping the side of his thinking seat and losing his calm aura. “I do not need to stoop to that level. If you want a show right here right now, I will give you one.”

“Sherlock,” John said through gritted teeth, clamping his hands down on the shoulders of the man as if to physically keep him down. His expression comically changed as he offered you a soft look of understanding. “I’m incredibly sorry for my friend here, but we really do have nothing to offer you than the truth we’ve already given you.”

You appraised him. “Thank you sir, but don’t worry about me. It’s not your fault he’s a fake.”

Sherlock stiffened, and you swore you could hear a pin drop.

John let him go limply without any request, sighing and taking a seat at the table. He shook his head. “You’ve gone and done it now.”


“Three hours.”

“Excuse me?”

“No, four actually. That’s how long ago you stepped into the restaurant about five blocks from now.” Sherlock trapped you in his gaze and you found yourself unable to glance away. “You ate seafood with a side choice of wine accompanied by some type of milky dessert - ice-cream? No, ice-cream cake, clever.”

“How did you-?” You looked at your clothes for any stains but found none and was stunned into silence. He continued anyway.

“You don’t live here? No, that’s not it…you’ve lived here for about the last five years. You went on vacation recently though - somewhere sunny - where you hurt yourself, tripped, and now walk with a slight limp. But that’s fine, because you had a couple series of childhood dancing lessons, and know how to work with your feet.” He wasn’t stopping, in fact his energy grew with each word he uttered. You know understood John’s reluctance to let him do this. To let this…beast go.

His unnatural eyes swept over your form once more, stripping you down to your very soul and leaving you shivering.

“All this time you’ve been attempting to get into my own head and prove me wrong. Pathetic. The reason is weak: that is, you’ve spent your entire life with no one ever believing you but yourself.” 

John paled, just as your fist trembled. He cleared his throat. “Sherlock, I think that’s enough.”

“In fact,” Sherlock ignored him. ”the only reason you’ve been this persistent is because you are tired of your own silence, and you are pushing your own self doubts onto me, hoping it’ll relieve the stress of your own depressing thoughts about your self value.”

There was silence, yet again.

Sherlock slunk back into his chair and rose an eyebrow, unimpressed.

You didn’t move.

John’s jaw shifted underneath tense, tightly drawn skin as he bit his lip, watching your still figure. “Y/N? I’m so, so sorry-”

“That was amazing,” You spoke softly.

The two males stared.

“Incredible!” You shouted, and chaos immediately sprung back in, breaking the motionless air as you dove at the world’s only consulting detective.

He dodged, and you crashed into the floor.

“How did you do that?!! Can you teach me your secrets?!” Any irritation in your eyes was now completely gone and it was like you were a different person, staring at him like he was god on earth.

For the first time, Sherlock could not make sense of what was in front of him.

“Are you not repulsed??”

“Of course not!! You’re absolutely stunning!!! And the way you delivered it all oh my god - you need not ask of course but I am now your faithful companion who will work dutifully at your side-”

“John get her away from me-”

You dove again but this time captured your target, sending him, you, and the chair toppling to the ground. 

John blinked, then went into the kitchen to make tea.


I Love You- A Dan Howell fic

A/N: Yeah, hi! I saw this request! I have been working on this for awhile, I personally like how it turned out. Hope I didn’t fail you!

Pairing: Dan Howell x Reader (f)

Warnings: May offend people??? I’m not real sure


The sound of our footsteps fill the hallway as we walk to mine and Phil’s apartment. Her hand gripping mine as she trails behind. I pull out my keys to unlock the door, first thing that comes off are my shoes. I look behind to her as she tries to take her own shoes off, struggling a bit.

“Need a bit of help?” I ask gently. Her shoulders visibly drop as she slightly nods. I get down to untie them, helping her toe them off. “It’s okay, nothing to worry about.”

I take her hand again, walking to the kitchen. “You hungry?”

“I’m in the mood for something sweet,” she giggles, the shoe situation forgotten. I lean down to kiss her lips, taking her by surprise. She laughs, “What was that for?”

“You said something sweet,” I chuckle as she scrunched her nose at my pathetic move.

“I meant like dessert,” she pointed out, her smile never leaving her face.

I look through our pantry, finding some cookies and chocolate that I hid away. “Well you’re lucky we still have some kind of sweets.” I set them down on the counter and watch as she makes her way to a stool. “See. You can do it.”

Her cheeks turn pink as she tries to hide behind her hair. “Just a bit annoying, yeah? Needing help to do normal things.”

“Love, there’s nothing wrong with that. We all need help with things we do.”

She shrugs as she sat down, feeling the counter for the treats I put down. I slide them closer to her, watching her open the cookies and take a bite. “These are so good! Are they chocolate chip?”

I hum in response, watching her. She’s so beautiful. So kind. So pure. I sometimes wonder if she can feel how I look at her. How she makes me smile so damn much. She may not be able to exactly see me, but she loves and trusts me. That’s the best feeling in the world.

“You’re awfully quiet, something wrong?” She pipes in, still munching on her cookie.

I chuckle and hug her from behind, taking her by surprise. She jumps and laughs, squirming around. “You’re too cute, you know that?”

She blushes once again.

“Why do you do that?” She playfully whines, pouting.

“Do what?”

“Why do you make me feel so fucking special?” She giggles, leaning into my hug.

“Because you are to me,” I respond, kissing the top of her hair.

“This is really cheesy,” she points out as she touches around for my face before pinching my cheeks.

“You started it,” I tease.

She tries to push me away, laughing as a latch myself to her. “You’re a fucking leech!”

“Yup, I suck the life out of you,” I smirk, tickling her sides.

She flails her arms around in attempt to stop me, obviously failing as I lift her up.

“Dan!” She squeals, trying to get out of my grip. She continues to kick around, coming quite close to kicking me where it hurts most. I gently throw her on the couch to then pull her on my lap as I sit.

We both laugh, at nothing in particular really, but the presence of the other being comforting.

As the laughter dies down, she shifts herself to face me, her hands roaming my hair. There’s a couple moments of silence before she speaks up again, “Your hair is so soft. And curly.”

I chuckle as she states the obvious, allowing her to play with my hair.

“What do you look like, Dan?” She asks meekly, almost scared of offending me.

I laugh at her tone. “Well, I got gross curly, brown hair. I’m pale as I don’t go outside. I’m really tall, like taller than average, like too awkward tall. I’ve got brown eyes.” She laughs at my description.

“I’m sure you’re very pretty.” As she feels down my face, she finds my dimples and smiles to herself. “This is one of my favorite things about you.” She pokes them which makes me laugh.

“I’m sure they are,” I roll my eyes playfully as I pull her in for a kiss. She melts into my body, her hands now on my shoulders as I place mine on her waist. She puts so much passion into the kiss that I feel myself become dizzy as I pull away. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Dan. Thank you for giving me a chance.”

“Your personality captured me. I knew not to let you pass by without making you mine.”

Her hands feel down my shoulders to my hands, giving them a bit of a squeeze. “You’re my everything.”

I kiss her forehead, letting myself linger a bit. She’s the definition of grace. She has a heart of gold. Despite her disability, she continues to live life to the best of her ability.


I pull away and look down at her. “Yeah?”

“You’re sweaty and it’s kind of gross.” She bursts into a fit of giggles as I dragged us both down to be laying down.

“Deal with it.”

anonymous asked:

I know that a lot of people believe that Kirk was misogynist and that his sexual advances towards women were harmful. Are Kirk and Riker any different? (I don't mean to sound unkind, I'm genuinely curious what ya'll think!)

The main difference between Kirk and Riker lies in the intent.

Kirk is a hopeless romantic who knows he’s destined to end up alone, because no matter what, he can never leave his ship. This gets explored in The Naked Time, which was one of the first TOS episodes to air, and the audience finally gains some insight as to why Kirk acts the way he does. He’s in love with his ship, and it rips him up inside more and more with each passing day. He gives and he gives, and all the ship can ever do is take from him. It takes years of his commitment, every ounce of passion in his body, a lifetime’s worth of gutless glory, and frequent, enormous leaps of faith to maintain. Perhaps, if he allows himself to fall in love with someone who means a lot to him, it might distance him from the pain of being a starship captain. But in the end, he knows he’s lying to himself, and more importantly, lying to the woman, which hurts him even more. Whether or not he wants it to be that way, he always breaks it off so he won’t hurt the woman the same way the Enterprise hurts him.

Spock is the only one who seems to understand this about Kirk. He accepts it, no matter how ridiculous/illogical he finds it to be, and one could argue it makes him admire Kirk even more. After all, it takes some serious self-awareness to continually break off relationships early on because you have the ability to recognize that nothing good could ever come of it. Furthermore, Kirk and Spock weren’t as expressive with their feelings for each other in the original series as they were during/following the events of The Motion Picture. By that point, their loyalties are with each other and the Enterprise is secondary (I mean just look what Kirk did to the Enterprise in TSFS, for god’s sake). 

Every woman Kirk falls for, he does so because he sees positive attributes beyond her looks. Carol Marcus and Gillian Taylor were both renowned scientists with quick-witted personalities that challenged Kirk to approach life more consciously, and taught him to always consider the long-term fate of the universe before acting. Edith Keeler inspired him with her idealism and optimism for the future, which is one thing that Kirk values in a partner quite a bit, seeing as how he’s extremely idealistic himself. I could go on with more examples, but I remember those three the most clearly because each of those women were wonderful, well-rounded people, and brought out a side of Kirk that was very much a positive thing for him. Unfortunately, once he was forced out of whatever dream land he was in where maintaining a relationship with these women would actually be feasible, he ultimately would decide each and every time that he was better off without love–or at least, better off without love from someone who could never begin to understand his relationship with the Enterprise. How could he give the woman all the love and care she deserved when he could barely give it to himself? And god, did it rip him up inside every time.

With Riker, his intent seems to lie in looking for a woman who will put up with his flaws (without him ever having to change himself), maintain minimal commitment but still be there just so he won’t be “alone”, and do about 85% of the emotional labor in the relationship when he only has to do 15%. The woman he developed the closest connection to in his entire life was….a holoprogram. Yep, that’s right. Minuette is as lifeless and two-dimensional as her construction would allow one to assume. It’s quite pathetic, since whenever he flirted with women who weren’t holoprograms, his intent was purely sexual. He would take less than half a glance at them, and start giving them smug stares. No starry eyes and love music like Kirk–Riker purely saw these women as objects to conquer. Even with Minuette, the whole encounter started out as her being “the hottest form” of a specific program designed to meet his “desires.” If that doesn’t sound like sexist garbage to you, then Idk what will. 

When it all comes down to it, Riker never cares for the women he attempts to pursue. He never has feelings for them beyond just pure, unfiltered sexual attraction, since he never sees them as existing as autonomous beings. Riker doesn’t care what happens to these women emotionally. He would never break it off with a woman to prevent her from inevitable heartbreak like Kirk does. Riker takes zero responsibility for his actions, and I wouldn’t put it past him to stay in a “relationship” he has no intent of committing to, just for “free sex” or whatever else goes on in that twisted mind of his. 

There are very clear and striking differences between Kirk and Riker’s characters, and the fact that gatekeeping white male assholes try to make Kirk out to be everything Riker really is (as a way to justify their own blatant misogyny) is nothing short of absolutely disgusting and everything that Star Trek is against. 


I still feel like we’re being purposefully mislead. If Sansa and Arya were both presented as having become clever badasses but can’t even detect when Baelish is playing them–I will be profoundly disappointed. 

And when Petyr suggested using Brienne against Arya, Sansa then sent Brienne away. 

And Arya leaving her people-masks under her bed in a bag in plain sight and then giving the dagger to Sansa after Waif-threatening to cut her face. 

It all just felt weird. I don’t like it when they do this. It creates a feeling of “false drama” when what we want–is to see them actually communicate, show some of that intelligence and maturity that they gained in their years apart.

But its difficult to tell if Sansa and Arya are both circling Petyr because of the role that Sansa plays for Petyr and the role that Sansa is playing for Arya (it began after Arya’s nasty look when Sansa confirmed that Jon had left her in charge–Sansa immediately played into it because she’s learned very deeply that people around her think she’s stupid and when they were young, Arya was no exception. Which is actually….really sad when I think about it. Sansa doesn’t care that she’s considered pretty. People have been grinding her mistakes in her face since she left Winterfell).

She tells Petyr she doesn’t trust him, she tells everyone else not to trust him—but then confides about how she doesn’t understand Arya anymore and mentions that Arya would kill if she thought Sansa was betraying Jon. By this point, she knows its dangerous to give him information like that, he gave her crippled brother a dagger. She ought to know better.  And what does she mean, “how did she get [the letter the Lannisters forced her to write]?” Sansa is fucking lady of Winterfell, she can go to their interim maester and start to look into it. 

It’s sad, a bit. because doing this to Sansa just seems unnecessary. 

Which is why I do kind of hope we’re being purposely misled instead of it just actually being that the two of them combined were still too slow and still too stupid to take on Baelish. 

It would also explain Arya’s behavior when she in particular should know better than to hold on to such grudges. (The whole “pretty” conversation.) It made her sound like a selfish little kid again. I thought it was pretty pathetic considering everything she’s been through.

But since she’s a wild card that Baelish wasn’t expecting, they could be working together (exaggerating Arya’s unknown-possible crazy bit, and really showcasing Sansa’s awesome acting skills) to force Littlefinger into some kind of trap (or to trick him into attempting to manipulate Arya). 

Which is what I hope is the case. Because I will be really really disappointed otherwise. Because that would kind of indicate that their role in the story is basically over, if they can’t even outplay Littlefinger. If they have to wait for Jon to get home so that he can sort it out…I will be disappointed. 

Also, Night King is a fucking Olympian, am I right? Do you think that Jon will be able to connect/take control of Viserion because he came back from the dead like Dany did. But his was in ice and hers was in fire.

If At First You Don't Succeed

Fic Request: 

  • write a fic (night and morning after) of that gif set about Stiles losing his virginity to Lydia 3 times
  • stiles and lydia have sex for the first time and it was awkward so they both lie in bed to afraid to talk to one another for a few minutes

Rating: MA

Genre: Smut, Romance

Author: @bellohmyblake

Based on this gif set [x]

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anonymous asked:

Ooh, you're taking prompts! If you feel like it, what are your ideas about a KHR AU of the new Netflix show sense8? (If you don't know the premise, 8 people from around the world become mentally connected with one another and can access each other's knowledge, language, skills ect.)

okay, yeah I know sense8. I’m not going to do like a rlly sens8 au, because I haven’t seen it, and fuck the everyone being the same age thing, I’m going for the cluster guaranteed to be the funniest and most useful.

Which means: Tsuna, Xanxus, Spanner, Dino, Bianchi, Byakuran, Adelheid, Fran. Activated when Lavina died, which I’ve moved up two years. Xanxus is the oldest member of the cluster, and Fran is the youngest. The cluster has managed to forestall Cradle, which is good, because none of them would do well with eight years of cold and anger from their oldest clustermate. Especially the young’uns. Stunt their growth.

Bianchi laughs for hours when Reborn asks her to come to Japan to help him teach the Vongola heir. When the rest of the cluster asks what she thinks is so funny, she lets them all borrow her eyes to see the missive, and grins at the irritation from half of her companions.

Suck it, bitches, she tells Dino, Byakuran and Xanxus, who have no freedom to hunt down their younger clustermates. All three of them respond with bursts of profanity that only make her laugh harder.

The first time she meets Tsuna, she gives him a poisoned soda, and leaves him behind, whispering into his mind, careful, it’s poisoned.

The whine of seriously, Bianchi? makes her laugh as she speeds on her way. He’s like a second little brother, one she didn’t hurt or have to smuggle out of her Family’s estate, one she can tease with her talents.


When Dino shows up, completely without warning, she knows it’s his revenge. Xanxus, who’s using her as a way to avoid paperwork, swears up a storm when she sees him, and Bianchi tucks away several new phrases against future need.

He catches her eye behind Reborn’s back and winks. Suck it, bitches, he says, in deliberate mimicry, and Bianchi has never wanted to laugh while murdering someone so much. Xanxus suggests methods, and Byakuran, in his typically creepy way, mentions ways she’s done it in the alternate worlds he sees these days.

It’s a little worrying, Byakuran’s new talent, but they’re all doing their best to keep him grounded, to remind him that this world is the one that he belongs to, the one that matters. Fran’s deadpan sarcasm whenever the idiot starts wandering off seems to be grounding him pretty well. So does Adelheid hopping into his body for his combat training. Spanner keeps getting lost in thought trying to brainstorm a way to create a concrete reminder whenever Byakuran starts wandering.

The only reason that genius hasn’t starved to death is Tsuna cooking for him and making him eat.


She’s shadowing Tsuna when the explosion happens, and that CEDEF kid who was always shadowing Iemitsu is thrown into Tsuna, Superbi Squalo hard on his heels, sword out and teeth bared.

Tsuna really shouldn’t absolutely light up with glee when an angry swordsman attempts murder right in front of him. Clearly this is a failing that’s the cluster’s fault. Bianchi hides a grin though, and thinks you sneaky bastard at Xanxus, who just preens back at her.

There’s a split second of confusion, and the CEDEF kid tries to haul Tsuna off.

Go with it, Xanxus encourages, and Bianchi can practically hear Tsuna rolling his eyes at their ersatz elder brother’s sense of humor.

They’re not running for long though, before Superbi catches up, and Tsuna snarls his irritation at the CEDEF kid trying to defend him, and getting thrown though a wall. Isn’t this my fight? he asks, a little petulant, as his Guardians suddenly jump in, and are immediately defeated.

Honestly, he says, as they’re thrown away from him. Great kids, no sense of what’s a threat.

Bianchi muffles a laugh behind her hand, while Adelheid snickers pointedly at him.

And then Tsuna just lights up, bright and burning with his Dying Will.

Superbi still beats his ass, of course, but it’s less pathetic than it could have been.

Don’t worry too much, Byakuran says cheerfully, as Tsuna’s thrown across the square for the second time. You just need to not die. Fakes aren’t worth that much. They’re pretty fakes though.

Should you be telling him that, masochism fairy? Fran asks, and Bianchi nearly bites her hand off trying to stifle laughter. Fran’s epithets only grow more creative over time, and with exposure to Xanxus. The time he called Adelheid the Stuffed Tit Fairy Princess is a treasured memory.

Not like this is a real disagreement, Dino says, not even phased, right, Xanxus?

Xanxus just laughs, as Superbi departs with a small box full of half-rings.

What do you say, two weeks? Dino says, and Xanxus nods, grinning one of his unsettling grins.

Tsuna sighs. Awesome, he says, and he sounds tired. Two weeks to train a bunch of civilians to go up against the independent assassination squad. Why did I let you talk me into this, again?

Byakuran grins. Without you, the game isn’t nearly as much fun, though!

Spanner trips him.

Some schmoopy dratchet for optronixes because talking to her always fills me with fic ideas. Can be considered a companion piece to this one.

Title: Long Way from Home
Word Count: 996
Characters: Drift, Ratchet
Pairings: Drift+Ratchet [platonic but can be considered preslash]
Rating: PG for Ratchet’s mouth
Summary: Ratchet’s determined to bring Drift home, no matter what sorry excuses the kid’s cooked up. 

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More Felix & Locus Thoughts

This is literally just me rambling so please please feel free to ignore it… 

Warning… LONG and also I wrote this a many months ago, like right at the end of season 13 and I literally just found it in my drafts soooo… Ehh?

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As I’m Falling Down I Come Undone


For a while, Sapphire had honestly thought that maybe she was getting her life to a place where she could feel like it meant something. In spite of all the years of having it drilled into her head that she needed to be perfect, to uphold the family name, Sapphire thought she had found something to make it worthwhile. But perhaps she had been wrong. That glimmer of happiness had been diminished, and she realized now more than ever that she had made a mistake in thinking it would last.

She should have trusted her gut when she’d encountered Ruby. The pair of them had been from different social standings, and her family most certainly wouldn’t have approved of them being friends, but she had gone against that and made an attempt. She had actively tried to reach out to Ruby in spite of the other young woman’s tendency to freely express her emotions. Perhaps that had been what had drawn Sapphire to her that night, though. She had felt comfortable around her, and it had allowed her to actually try opening up around her. 

Honestly, she’d thought that maybe this was a step forward for her. For so long, Sapphire had struggled to make friends. Even when she was little she had never really clicked with anyone her parents tried to introduce her to. That remained true even now. But somehow she had found it a bit easier to at least try with Ruby. It had worked, too. For a time, the two of them had at least been able to spend time together. It hadn’t always been easy, though. Sapphire knew their schedules were different and that she had an image to maintain, but she’d still made the effort. Ruby’s friendship had been worth it.

Then, things began to change. Ruby had other friends, and Sapphire could only really watch as the other woman went to spend time with them. Day after day, Sapphire would hold out hope that maybe Ruby and her friends wouldn’t have plans and that she could spend time with her. One might have wondered why Sapphire didn’t just try to become a part of the group, and the answer was simple. Sapphire just didn’t mesh well with the others Ruby kept the company of. So she just continued holding out hope. She would always tell Ruby that she understood when she couldn’t make time, and she would say she had things to attend to anyway, but the truth was that it hurt her more than she let on. Of course, with her upbringing, she had been told never to let her hurt show. It wasn’t becoming of a daughter of the illustrious Lazulis name to show such weakness.

Over time, she just… Stopped trying to reach out to Ruby. It wasn’t worth it anymore, Sapphire decided. Why keep letting herself be hurt by the friendship she thought she had, right? So she shut herself in her home and decided to stay there. It was pathetic, she realized, but it was her only defense mechanism. She couldn’t let herself be hurt again, and she couldn’t afford to besmirch the Lazulis name by letting herself break down in public. So she’d called in sick from work, which wasn’t necessarily a lie, and just… Stayed home for a while.

The blonde wasn’t even sure of how many days had passed since she’d initially stopped trying to reach out to Ruby. Maybe it had only been a couple, and maybe it had been more than that. What did it matter, though? Ruby probably was having more fun without her anyway. She was pathetic, even in spite of her high social standings, and perhaps Ruby had just gotten tired of her. These thoughts coupled with the years of teaching her to not let her emotions shine through made it impossible for her to really hold herself together. Still, she tried. She really did try to remain strong in the face of this as she walked around her living room. It was inevitable, though. Sooner or later she would have to crack, and the mounting emotions had reached their peak.

Stupid… Stupid! You were such an idiot! How could you think that she ever thought of you as a friend worth spending time with? She was probably just using you for your status! She probably didn’t even care that she was someone you actually felt comfortable opening up around! Her caring about you as much as her other friends… What a laugh! I can just hear her now. She’s probably laughing it up with her friends right now. Probably just… Just…

The more Sapphire thought about these things, the harder it became to quell the storm of emotions inside her. Part of her felt angry at herself for lowering her guard so much around Ruby. Another part felt upset with Ruby, and another part still felt just overall hurt. It culminated in the blonde young woman finally crumpling down on the floor and breaking down. Tears came hard and fast, and she soon was caught up in sobbing over all that she had put herself through. Again and again she questioned how she could have been so stupid to open herself up to this sort of thing. She should have just stuck to what she’d been taught and what she’d known her whole life. It would have saved her a lot of trouble. But the loneliness that had come with what she knew… Would that have been worth it?

If she really knew what was to come, though, she might not have made any assumptions about Ruby like she had. But she didn’t know what was going to happen. She only knew that here, in the present, she was breaking down and feeling like the most pathetic creature ever for it. All of this over a single friendship… A friendship that probably didn’t even matter in the grand scheme of things. No wonder Ruby had started spending more time with her other friends. She probably did think Sapphire was the most pathetic woman on the planet.

what a lovely way to burn

[update: now also on ao3]

pairing: rhack

summary: Rhys is, sometimes, almost entertaining enough. But he’s also asleep or off-station or working way too often and it’s not like Jack’s bothered by it, no, but he doesn’t sleep or visit Pandora any more and spending all of his time on Helios, as Helios is starting to get to him.

He finds a lone employee at some ass end of the station, orders a loader bot to kick the man in the face, and then decides that he’s bored as dicks and he needs to do something. Like… Rhys. Talk to Rhys, that is. He doesn’t want to… do… well, anyway–


Rhys discovers the chair has a lot of fun drug-injecting buttons. Jack discovers he needs a body, right now, immediately. Rhys’ will do.

notes: so this a Handsome Rhys au of sorts; basically Helios doesn’t fall, Jack and Rhys rule, (i don’t know what happens to the rest of the plot hahh,) the usual. also i have no idea what i’m doing forgive me

content warnings for, oh god, i don’t know? vague mentions of ambiguous Pandoran drugs, soft choking (or strangling, if you prefer), consensual possession(i think???), broadly defined sinning

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Unintended Chapter 3


summary: Foreston Academy was the very last resort for angry, lonely Dan Howell. He never could have imagined meeting anyone like Phil Lester, and Phil never could have known that befriending his new roommate would change his life entirely.

Is there such a thing as being too forgiving?

betas: comefeedmyobsession and kaleidanscope

wc: ~4k 

warnings: descriptions of fire

a/n: i am alrEADY so sick of uploading this only another 10 chapters and an epilogue to go((((((:

Even though PJ hadn’t actually mentioned to Phil taking Dan down to Firespot, the thought had still raced through Phil’s head as an extension to their conversation as he headed back down the hallway.

Although this thought made him sad, Phil was ever an optimistic person, and believed that Foreston and his own supportiveness towards Dan together would eventually get Dan to come round. If Phil couldn’t take Dan down to Firespot tonight, maybe he could another night.

When Phil arrived back in the room, Dan and Alyssa unlocked lips to each give Phil an angry scowl.

‘I am not leaving,’ said Phil, stretching his arms with a loud yawn and starting to hum a tune happily as he took out a notepad.

Dan and Alyssa stared in shock.

'I’m just gonna draft out a letter to the family,’ chirped Phil, partly radiating his usual sunshine, but partly enjoying the horrified looks on their faces. Alyssa had been quite the bitch in the past, and even he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to get on her nerves a bit.

Still humming, he flipped the pages in his notebook noisily, crackling the paper and clicking his pen a few times when he saw Dan’s hand tracing back towards Alyssa’s boob.

He leapt up and smiled widely at the two teenagers.

'Mind if I put some music on?’ He was still happy and smiling, and skipped over to the mini-stereo without waiting for an answer.

He half wasn’t expecting one, he seemed to have shocked them so much, but Dan was clearing his throat and glaring at him.

'Uh? Yeah? I do mind!’

Phil turned up a Blink-182 track before doing a little dance and turning back to Dan, desperately trying not to laugh and to keep his smile genuine.

'What!?’ He shouted, cupping a hand around his ear, 'What did you say?’

'I said,’ screamed back Dan, 'turn the fucking music down!’


/I’ll add some blink lyrics here but I want something really good and couldn’t think of anything appropriate off the top of my head so any suggestions are appreciated!!/

'Turn it down!’ He turned back to Alyssa and Phil saw him tell her to ignore him, before trying to make out with her again. She looked back at him with disgust, clambering off the tiny bed with equal scowls of disdain at both of the boys, turning off the stereo and striding towards the door with her hips rocking.

'Wait! Alyssa! Where’re you going?!’ Dan slid off the bed towards the door but Alyssa turned round sharply.

'Out. I’ll come back when you can be arsed to put me before your loser roommate.’


Alyssa’s eyebrows shot up her high forehead.

'Don’t fucking call me that,’ she hissed, before spitting on the carpeted floor and picking her way out of the room and into the corridor, slamming the door as hard as she was able.

Phil knew Alyssa, and if Dan wanted to keep her, he needed to go after her now. Luckily, Dan was too busy being angry at Phil.

'What the fuck, do you think you’re doing?’

'Ew, gross. She spat on the floor.’

'Hey, wanker! Are you listening to me!?’

'I reckon you should clean this up.’

'What?!’ Dan was stunned. He hadn’t thought that his roommate was quite so… Audacious.

'Yeah, well, you seem happy for her spit to be in your mouth, so it shouldn’t be an issue to clean off the floor, right?’

Dan’s face was filled with such anger that Phil’s courage started to crumble.

This boy had been expelled. For what? What had he done? And what could he do to Phil?

Fury clouded Dan’s face and his chocolate eyes turned to dark stones. Phil started backing up against the other side of the room.

'Who. The. Fuck,’ he hissed, each word thrown as a silver knife slicing through Phil, 'do you think you are?’


'How. Dare. You!’

Dan’s hands had curled into quivering fists of anger. Phil thought of Chris and PJ, locked away in their own cosy room at the other end of the corridor. He didn’t own a mobile phone, and neither did Peej.

'Dan, I’m sorry! I didn’t realise she was… Important..?’ Dan had only met her today! Why was he so furious?! Especially after the way he had treated Phil all day!

Dan’s brain unfogged briefly, just enough for him to respond to Phil’s comment. Of course Alyssa wasn’t important. He didn’t even like her that much. But- But- Phil had-

What exactly had Phil done? Interrupted them? The reason Alyssa had left was because he, Dan, wouldn’t stand up to Phil.

Well, he thought, red flooding his vision again as he remembered Phil’s rude comments about him cleaning up Alyssa’s spit, Dan would stand up to Phil now. That would show him. That would show everyone.

'Dan,’ he heard Phil whimper as he approached the pathetic specimen, and all Dan could do was laugh. He loved it when he was more powerful than another, loved the feeling of someone else being completely helpless right in front of him. It made him feel whole, it made him feel alive.

'Dan, you don’t want to hurt me,’ Phil was sliding down the wall as Dan raised his fists with a cruel glare, 'no, seriously, you can’t get kicked out on your first day! Your parents-’

His parents. His parents. How did Phil know about his parents!? How could he possibly know!?

Dan’s hand slammed into Phil’s shoulder, pinning him against the wall, their noses only inches apart as Dan hissed into Phil’s face.

'What do you know about my parents!?’

'Nothing! Nothing, I just- what would they say if you got expelled again-’

Phil quickly flicked his face to one side to try and protect himself, assuming his comment would only rile Dan up, but it infact had the opposite effect.

Dan took a deep gulp, eyes beading with tears, and crumpled to the floor, letting go of Phil immediately, who ended up crumpled beside him.

To Phil’s utter horror, Dan’s eyes started streaming, his breath coming in thick raspy heaves.


'Why can’t I-’ Dan wailed, ’-do anything right!?’ He thrust his head against the wall and Phil had to dive out of the way to avoid being headbutted.

'Dan-’ Phil grabbed Dan’s shoulders and pulled him back as he attempted to hit his head again, 'Dan- please stop, please,’ the boy was scaring Phil now.

'I’m so useless! I’m just this huge fuck-up, Phil, I- I-’

'Dan, please stop. You’re not a fuck-up, you’re just-’


Dan dissolved into tears so ferocious that his body shook with each sob as he curled up on the carpet, arms wrapped desperately around his body. Phil was shocked to put it mildly; this outburst was worse than any of Dan’s tears he had experienced yesterday.

'You don’t know me,’ Dan muttered, gasping for air between the violent sobs.

'Then, Dan,’ Phil put a gentle hand on Dan’s shoulder, pushing him up into a sitting position, 'let me.’ Phil laughed at how anime he sounded, and Dan stared in confusion, his sobs slowing but the tears still running a river down his cheeks. 'I mean, um, let me get to know you. Tell me about you…’ He broke off as Dan fell into fresh howls of sorrow, this time completely and utterly inconsolable.

For the second time in the two days Dan had been at Foreston, Dan missed his dinner. But this time, Phil did as well. Although Phil could do nothing to help the boy, he stayed there holding his hand until the tears subsided and he collapsed on his bed into a troubled sleep.




'Where is he right now?’

'In our room, wiped out. That’s why I have to be quick- I want to be there when he wakes up. God knows what he could do.’ And plus, thought Phil, he wanted Dan to know Phil was there for him, no matter how much of a 'fuck-up’ Dan thought hewas.

'Ok, I can probably do that. You game, Chris?’

Chris shouted over from the corner, where he was busy tapping away on a laptop, 'Yeah, yeah Phil, you can count on us! I mean, I don’t have a clue what you actually want me to do, I wasn’t listening, So bear that in mind when I say I’m happy to help. If 'help’ means you want to cheer him up by selling my body to him, I’m afraid I may be out…’

'You’re a prat, Chris,’ snorted PJ as Phil laughed.


Dan was awoken by the tinkling of a tune he thought he recognised, but couldn’t place for the life of him.


As Dan’s eyes slowly unglued themselves, he rolled over in his bed (nearly falling out in the process) to watch a tall black-haired figure stumble across the room to turn off the glowing object that was emitting the weirdly familiar music.

Dan’s brain slightly waking up, he realised that it was Phil’s fancy clock, and that the music must be an alarm. A glance at the garish letters told him that it was past midnight on a Monday so, technically, as his sluggish mind pointed out to him, it was Tuesday.

Phil turned round when he heard Dan groan.

'You awake?’

Dan simply grunted, dragging his duvet clumsily over his head with another groan when Phil opened the curtain to let a bright stream of moonlight glow up the room.

'Come on!’ Dan pushed the cover away from his head for a moment to see that Phil was practically skipping with excitement.

Then he remembered.


'Come on come on come on!’ Phil was next to Dan’s bed, positively glowing with excitement, before he grabbed Dan’s hand and yanked him out from his warm cosy den of sleep, pulling him towards the door.

'Phil, I’m in my underwear!’

Phil turned round and looked the boy up and down briefly before the two of the dissolved into giggles.

'Grab a t-shirt and jacket,’ he whispered, pushing him towards the wardrobe before the two of them started giggling again.




When Phil got back from Chris and PJ’s room that evening, he only had to wait another half hour for Dan to wake up.

When he did, Dan was a mess.

'Please don’t make me tell you anything.’


'I don’t want… I mean, I think… You would hate me… More than now… I…’

'Shut up Dan,’ Phil’s voice was soft, and he put an arm around Dan, the two of them now sat on Dan’s bunk with their backs propped up against the wall together, 'I actually don’t hate you, you don’t seem to be able to comprehend-’

'You would,’ Dan’s voice was almost inaudible.

'You’re not following me, Dan, I don’t care what you’ve done in the past, what’s important is-’

'Phil, I’m a fuck-up. You’re not. And I just… I just don’t want to talk about it.’

Phil did want to talk about it. In his experience, nothing helped better than a friend. But he didn’t want to push Dan away, so he decided to let it go for now.

'Can we be friends, Dan?’

Dan was silent as he stared down at his hands. Phil was starting to notice that Dan could never keep his hands still - he was always fidgeting, twitching his fingers or tapping away as though he was perpetually playing a keyboard in his head.

'I don’t know,’

'Why? Am I… Am I doing something wrong?!’

'No, no! I mean… We just, those other guys, David and Patrick and Alyssa,hey’re more like me. Not you… Not you, Phil.’

'How are they more like you? They’re all… Well, to put it bluntly Dan, they’re all kinda dickheads.’

Silence. And then: 'Exactly.’

Phil didn’t know what to say to that.

'You don’t have to be like them.’ Is what he settled for at length, trying desperately to break the silence.

'I am though. I can’t change who I am.’

'You’re not! I was watching you today, Dan, and you looked bored! You’re interesting and funny and creative and you don’t need to hang round with idiots like that because you feel like that’s what you deserve, or whatever it is you think.’

'Shut up waffling. And plus; those “idiots” are my friends.’

Dan’s voice was cold, and Phil panicked. Could he do nothing right with this boy? He had always thought he was good with people - he made friends easily and most people who knew him adored him -yet he didn’t seem to be able to do anything right with Dan.

'I’m sorry,’ he mumbled, also staring at his own pale hands now, 'I… please don’t hate me.’

Dan’s hands were slightly more tanned than Phil’s, his fingers less long and nails less nibbled. Phil watched as he interlaced his fingers agitatedly, giving away some of the emotion his passive face hid so well.

'I don’t hate you,’ Phil heard Dan whisper.

Phil knew what he wanted to say now.

'Come to Firespot with me tonight. It’s fun, you can actually get to know my friends… Maybe we can start afresh, If you want?’


'I told you 'bout it last night - the campfire thing out in the woods.’ Dan’s face was blank. 'Just after I turned the lights out and you were pretending to be asleep…’

Phil wondered if he’d upset Dan or if the boy would just deny it, but to his delight Dan just chuckled a little and looked up at him with a tiny sad smile on his face.

'Yeah… yeah, ok.’ At that moment Phil’s stomach gave a rumble, 'Hh god, you didn’t get anything to eat, did you!?’

'Oh it’s fine, I’ve sorted it,’ Phil flashed a wide smile at Dan, trying desperately and mostly failing to hide how overjoyed he was that Dan was coming to Firespot with him, before jumping off the bed and hopping over to the stereo.

'Help me pick something to listen to, friend.’



'So… What was your alarm song thing? I think I might have recognised it.’

'Oh, um, it’s from the soundtrack to some anime film.’

They spoke in whispers because they were creeping down the grounds together, having gotten out of the building successfully and gone out through the conservatory doors that were left open every Monday night for the students who were in the know about Firespot. Dan had insisted on putting on some proper clothes and shoes; there was no way he was going to a campfire in the middle of the night dressed only in his underwear.

'Which film? I love anime!’

'One of the Ghibli ones, I think? It’s bad, but I can’t actually remember, I’ve had it as my alarm for so long.’

'What’s your favourite anime Phil?’ The grass was soft and springy under Dan’s feet, the moonlight bright and Dan’s excitement was building.

'Film or show?’

'Either. Both. I don’t know!’

‘It has to be Iwatobi Swim Club in terms of show, I mean, all the muscles. I identify with Gou spiritually.’

‘Oh yes! I love that show, how it just,’ Dan clenched his fist, staring at the ground all of a sudden, ‘ended without warning.’

The moon shone brightly in the sky and autumn leaves crunched under their feet as they tiptoed down towards the dark treeline across the grounds.

They talked in hushed voices about things they liked and things they didn’t like, about books and films and shows and games, and because Phil didn’t ask about anything to do with Dan’s past, the conversation was light and easy and enjoyable.

Turns out, thought Dan, maybe he could hold a good conversation. Or maybe it was just Phil.

Soon they were close to the trees, and when he really listened hard during the gaps in conversation, Dan thought he could hear the quiet strains of music coming from somewhere in the woods.

They wandered a little further until they were past the treeline, Phil picking his way through the dark woods easily.

'Listen,’ whispered Phil mid- sentence, pulling one hand to his ear and the other grabbing Dan’s forearm, forcing Dan to stop walking and stand stock-still next to Phil. 'You hear them?’

Dan did hear them. the sound of music, and beneath it laughter and chatter and happiness. It filled him with a buzz, which only increased when he looked over at Phil, who was gazing at him with a strange mix of excitement and anticipation and… pride. He was proud of this school, of Firespot, of everything he had to show his new roommate, Dan realised.

Dan had an overwhelming urge to throw his arms around Phil and pull him into a tight hug, to say thankyou for helping him and understanding him and not hating him, even after the shitty way Dan had behaved over the last couple of days. He wanted to be here in the woods on this cool September night and hold his first ever… friend- since childhood- close under the moonlight streaming through the leaves above them and just… say thankyou.

The emotion was overwhelming when Dan realised that he considered Phil a friend. So much so that he honestly did consider trying to hug him, just for a second.

But of course he didn’t.


(a/n: this next bit is all about the campfire, inc. roasting marshmallows etc)


Just as they approached the clearing, Dan closed his eyes and inhaled the cool night air- it smelt like pine wood and burning and silver moonlight.

Moonlight has a smell, trust me. If you don’t know that then you haven’t been out in the middle of the autumn in a wood at midnight with a raven-haired boy with shining blue eyes staring back at you with excitement and pride, tiny clouds of warm air spiralling out into the darkness every time he takes an excited little puff of breath.

Phil took Dan’s hand in his own cold soft one, and pulled him forwards through the trees. Dan was so taken by surprise by the gentle contact that he for a second froze in Phil’s grasp, staring at their intertwined hands.

Phil followed his gaze, ‘Oh, sorry,’ he said, letting go, a hot pink blush flooding his pale cool cheeks.

Dan instantly felt the warmth leaving his hand. ‘No, no. I… I like it. Friendly. I…’ he wasn’t making any sense, so silently took another deep breath and a step forwards, grasping Phil’s hand tightly in his own. The boy looked at Dan and smiled a happy smile.

They stood there for a second in the shadows, moonlight playing on their hair and skin and faces, before Phil took the first step forward.

‘S’gonna be okay,’ he whispered to Dan, who had not really relaxed ever since the arms of the trees had first surrounded them- he hated trees, and to be right in their midst felt incredibly claustrophobic and intimidating. But with a warm hand squeeze and a smile from Phil, the two boys walked forward together through the dark silhouettes of the trees, taking their steps slowly as their feet crunched on the autumn leaves beneath them.

And with a precipitous blaze of surprise, the trees around them were flickering with golden light, and the laughter and the music and the happiness filled their ears and a radiant beam filled Phil’s face from ear to ear, and Dan dissolved into a dreamlike state as Phil dragged him around the circle and introduced him to everyone, and the music tickled his eardrums and tempted his body and the fire- the huge fire in the centre of the clearing- made everything golden and his eyes stream and his nose smell soot and barbeque food and the flames danced around him expressing every emotion at once.

He was surrounded by beautiful people bathed in golden orange light dancing and twirling and laughing, everyone with huge smiles on their faces and uncaring of what other people would make of them- simply having fun with their friends. There were two boys further back sat on a log, cloaked in shadows, playing guitars, a girl tapping a tambourine, and lots of people singing. Dan could see a few other instruments around- a ukulele lay abandoned, another girl held a flute in her lap- but they weren’t playing. Dan hoped he’d get to hear them later.

Dan was afraid of a lot of things- for example moths and darkness and trees- three things that were all present tonight, in fact- but he wasn’t afraid of fire. He wasn’t afraid of the way fire danced and flickered and shone light upon everything in its vicinity. Dan found fire exquisite and enchanting, and soon was so under the happy friendly dancing spell of Firespot that he found himself understanding why Phil loved it so much. He found himself loving it.

‘Dan,’ whispered Phil in his ear, ‘earth to Dan!’

Dan looked up at Phil, sat on the log next to him, smirking and handing him a stick with a marshmallow speared on the end of it. PJ and Chris were already crouching beside the flames, the fire licking their marshmallows and painting them black. Dan’s mouth started to water- he hadn’t eaten any dinner.

As Dan and Phil got up from the logs and approached the fire, Phil leaned again to Dan and whispered, ‘Peej and Chris went down to the kitchens for us earlier- we have tons of food to eat! To be honest, everyone here usually makes quite an event of the first night back at Firespot- a midnight feast, if you will.’

Dan felt drunk with happiness as he toasted marshmallows over the flickering dancing heat with Phil, Chris and PJ joining them so they could all take their first bites together- and it was all the gooey slimy sugary burn-your-tongue goodness that Dan could ever have dreamed of. It felt like heaven.

‘So… Tell me more about,’ Dan gestured around him, ‘the people here.’

The looks on PJ and Phil’s faces were made simultaneously of sunshine and moonlight, flickering flames and light laughter. Phil’s tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth.

‘We here,’ said Phil, ‘we’re /all/ misfits.’



These people- they liked him. They accepted him.

At least, Dan thought they did. He surely must be wrong- but…

He couldn’t ask- he couldn’t- he would sound so needy, so lame…

But he loved it here. These people were so much more fun than who he had spent time with today. He realised how much rather he would be here, accidentally setting sausages on fire over a bonfire with Phil, than making out with a girl he barely knew- someone who deep down, he didn’t actually really like…

But why would these people like him? Why would anybody actually like Dan? He had been so awful…


Dan even considered that it was all an elaborate set-up, that at some point Phil and Chris and PJ would jump out and go ‘ha! We hate you really! You fell for it! Idiot!’ Dan knew it was stupid, but he just couldn’t help himself.

Dan watched the flames, overwhelmed by the personal conflict, until as if he had heard his thoughts, Dan felt Phil nudge his arm.

‘I’m really glad you’re here Dan,’ he whispered, blue eyes shining bright with honesty.

‘Really?’ Dan’s comment was almost inaudible, but Phil heard it.


Dan had to turn away before Phil saw the tears of happiness that were pooling in his eyes. He had to do it, he thought. A new leaf. A fresh start.

Perhaps…. Perhaps it was possible after all.

Dan lay his head on Phil’s shoulder. The boy looked over, surprised, before relaxing into his side with a smile, their warm bodies pressed together.

It was so late, and Chris’ eyes were so heavy, his senses dulled by the food and the fun and the extraordinariness of the night. But he had never felt more happy than now, as he leant back against the bark of a tree and watched the silhouette of his roommate spiral joyously through the flames, completely unaware of how beautiful a dancer he was. Chris yawned and closed his eyes for a second, the image of PJ burning into his retinas, a feeling of longing sweeping over him along with the powerful wave of tiredness.

PJ was far too perfect- he was kind and funny and ridiculously creative- he danced like a god with a orange halo of light highlighting every loose strand of his wild hair, the flickering flames causing the sweat on his face to shine, his lips an orange-pink.

Chris had only known him two days, so how was it that he felt he had loved him for all his life?

Stop it, Chris he was drifting off, eyes closed, head back against the tree trunk, Stop being stupid, his head was so heavy…. You barely know him

That night, as PJ (with assistance from a tired Phil) carried Chris back to the room, unable to arouse him, they didn’t know that he was deep in a dream containing the very boy who held him.

4. nightmares - masterpost

anonymous asked:

Okay, really dumb idea, but Anna and Elsa confronting Ingrid but the conversation slowly goes from dramatic plot to "don't stare at the opening of her dress" and "these two are sisters, right?" I'm really sorry.

This turned out significantly darker than I expected, but here you go…


Ingrid always seemed to have a backup plan. The more ideas Anna tried to come up with, the more she’d be surprised by her sadistic, psychotic, highly disturbed aunt. Even having lost Elsa’s support had no effect on the Snow Queen’s mood. And now that she could no longer send Anna to the dungeons or throw her off a cliff, Ingrid had resorted to confronting her nieces with their worst fear: themselves.

“Anna, please stop wasting our time. You don’t belong here, can’t you see it? Your battle was lost from the beginning. Elsa is my sister now.”

“She’s nothing of yours! She’s mine! You can’t take her away from me and you never will.”

Ingrid rolled her eyes at Anna’s growl. “And who do you think you are, you foolish little girl, to tell me what I can or cannot do? She is more connected to me than she’ll ever be to you.”

“Wanna bet?”

Anna attempted to reach Ingrid. Elsa put a hand on her arm to calm her. Ingrid watched the scene, still thoroughly amused.

“There is no need. My magic runs in her veins. Our power joins us in ways you could never aspire to understand. You are nothing, Anna, nothing but a simple empty brat whose greatest talent is knocking things over and having a mouth bigger than your brain. Have you heard what they say of you? Haven’t you noticed there isn’t one redhead in our family, or that of Elsa’s father? People say you’re a bastard.” Ingrid pronounced the last words with evident delight.

At this Elsa stepped forward. “Enough! Listen to yourself! You’re insulting your own sister, Ingrid. We’re your sister’s daughters, why do you want to hurt us so much?”

The Snow Queen’s voice softened. “It’s nothing against you, Elsa, my darling. It’s never been against you and it never will be. She’s the problem, this bastard girl.” Ingrid snorted. “You won’t even look at me, child. You know what I’m saying is true.”

“I’m not looking at you because I don’t want to see such vulgar display of flesh,” Anna nodded at Ingrid’s dress. “Haven’t you seen yourself in a mirror? You look worse than those tavern girls. So much for the almighty Snow Queen.”

Ingrid let out a little laugh, and took a step towards the princess. She looked Anna up and down, and shook her head with a mocking smile.

“Does it bother you, Anna? Of course it does; sensuality is a concept you will never comprehend, or possess. What does a mediocre creature like you know of femininity? Elsa, sweetheart, don’t be silly, understand that Anna is an obstacle for your development. I have such plans for you, a life of greatness and power beyond imagination, and there’s only a worthless girl standing in your way. You could be so much more, if it wasn’t for her.”

“On the contrary,” growled Elsa. “I would be nothing, if it wasn’t for her. I will never leave her.”

“Elsa, be reasonable-”

“She’s mine!”

Ingrid stopped. Her eyes traveled between the two girls, between their joined hands, the identical posture of their shoulders ready to attack. They had both made the same claim, She’s mine. They even moved together, from how they adjusted their feet to how they flicked their eyes and even how they breathed. They’re sisters, Ingrid thought. Or are they? She found it hard to believe when they stood so close and so fiercely protective of each other. They reminded her more of those pathetic little couples she had spotted sometimes.

Ingrid took a step towards Anna. The girl stepped back, disgust in her face. Ingrid’s amusement had no end.

“Still offended by my, how did you say it, ‘vulgar display of flesh’? Yet, it doesn’t seem to bother you in Elsa. Look at her, the girl you’re claiming to own. Aren’t you bothered by the way her dress clings to her shape, by the slit of her skirt? Don’t you find the way she displays herself vulgar? Doesn’t she look like a tavern girl to you? Or maybe when it comes to her that’s what you want –you want her to look like your whore.”

Elsa raised her hand and shot a current of ice and snow. Never one to be outdone, Ingrid met it in midair with one of her own.

“Oh no, sweetheart, let’s not come to this. You don’t want to fight me, just as I don’t want to fight you. We’re family.”

“No, we’re not,” Elsa spoke through her teeth, shaking with anger. “You’re twisted, and sick, and completely out of your mind. Anna is my only family.”

Their powers fought, one never able to actually  defeat the other. Though delighted by her niece’s strength, Ingrid cut her own current to make Elsa calm down. Until she learned how to master her energies, overuse could harm her.

Ingrid stood right in front of Anna, knowing that given the difference in heights her neckline would be in perfect view for the princess. As expected, Anna averted the sight, blushing.

“Look at me, Anna, look at me. Oh, you stupid coward. You’re Elsa’s sister, aren’t you?” she cooed, stroking Anna’s face. “Aren’t you?”

Anna nodded, still not looking at her.

“Well, are you sure about that? Is that all you are to Elsa, or is there something else going on? That’s why you’re so possessive with her, because you want to own her as a woman,” Ingrid’s voice melted with the joy of having found Anna’s weakest spot.

“Leave her alone,” hissed Elsa, coming between them. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Elsa, honey, don’t fall for her tricks. She’s trying to charm you, to seduce you, to lure you away from what you deserve. Elsa, don’t be dragged into that madness.”

This time, Elsa was the one to take the step forward.

“Too late.”

The way Elsa walked, shielding Anna from Ingrid and making her way forward with the grace and fierceness of a snow wolf, would have made her aunt proud if it didn’t come from the wrong reasons. And the fact that she paid no attention to how provocative and sensual her anger was made the whole scene much more fascinating.

“Whatever sinful images your mind is building about my sister and me… you’re right,” she hissed. “Anna is mine, and I am hers, in ways that you’ll never be able to understand. She’s all I need to be happy and you cannot take her away from me. I will kill for her, if necessary. Now go. Go and never come back. And please, change that dress. It is outrageous.”

Ingrid caressed Elsa’s face. “Oh, my love, no. I won’t bother you anymore. When the time is right you will come to me. And I’ll be waiting.”

Sneak PV: AkaFuri College!AU

Because I’m bored and procrastinating af I decided to share with you another little sneak peek at this monstrous AkaFuri College AU I’m working on. If you’re worried that I’ll have sneak previewed the whole thing before I even finish it, worry not! I am currently on 9K AND NOT EVEN HALFWAY DONE I NEED HELP. Shout out to genderqueerfuri because it’s their fault that I’m so obsessed with loser!Akashi and now I have this potentially 15K+ monstrosity (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻

Anyway, please read and let me know your opinions? It’s kinda my first time writing Reo too.

Later that night, Seijuurou was staring intently at his phone, Furihata’s number shining on the screen. His hands trembled lightly. His last attempt to call Furihata had resulted in utter and absolute failure and he was unsure of whether he would manage himself better this time. He looked up at Reo, who gave him a thumbs up and he pressed the call button.

The line beeped twice and clicked.

This is Furihata.”

Seijuurou froze up. He didn’t know what it was about Furihata’s voice in the phone that made it really hard to think straight. He actually found it harder to speak with him on the phone than in person. Perhaps the fact that he sounded so close, almost as if he were whispering in his ear, and he could imagine his body heat seeping into his skin and…

Hello? Is anybody there?

He opened his mouth and managed to produce an odd guttural sound but nothing more. He looked at Reo again, slightly panicked, and was surprised to see his friend holding a small whiteboard with words written on it. It took him a few seconds to understand, but he finally read the words out loud.

“Hello. This is Akashi Seijuurou.”

Reo gave him another thumbs up and started wiping the text away.

“Oh, Akashi-kun! I didn’t have your number so I didn’t know it was you.”

His eyes quickly searched  for the whiteboard and the words Reo had written on it.

“I was calling so we could settle on the details of our previous agreement.”

“Ah, sure, of course. I have classes all day on Monday and Thursday and I work part-time on Saturday, but any other day I’m free after lunch time. When’s good for you?”

He mouthed at Reo asking when he had free time on his schedule because for the life of him he could not possibly remember what classes he was taking, let alone when or whatever other commitments he might have. Reo mouthed back at him and he parroted it to the phone while his friend rushed to write something.

“H-hold on a moment.”

In his nervousness, he didn’t even stop to consider the words written on the whiteboard and just read them out loud without thinking.

“Sunday ‘s when you meet your fath-“he bit his tongue. “I mean, I, I can not make it on Sunday, but any other day should be alright.” He wanted to slap himself in the forehead. What a pathetic display he was making. Reo looked like he was having a stroke from second-hand embarrassment.

Great! So is it okay if we start on Tuesday? The sooner the better?” Furihata’s voice came light and cheerful, so wonderfully well-intentioned and blissfully unaware of the storm going on in Seijuurou’s head.

Seijuurou nodded furiously, momentarily forgetting that the other man could not see him, and incapable of uttering even the extremely simple word he should.

Reo’s eyes widened in disbelief and he quickly wrote a short sentence on the board.

“Yes, that would be fine.”

“Alright! So where do you want us to meet? Normally the library or the study room would be fine, but I don’t think we can properly talk and discuss things there, and maybe the cafeteria is too loud to study… uh… we could use my place but it would be really cramped and I have a roommate who could interrupt us… uhm, do you have any ideas?”

His nostrils flared. He had considered this possibility, hoped for it to come to happen, but now that the opportunity was right in front of him, he was, as expected, completely incapable of forming a coherent thought. He looked at Reo and was surprised to see his friend had foreseen the direction of the conversation and written an according response.

“I have a single room in the dormitories. It is not far from campus, so if it were fine by you, we could meet here.”

Furihata chuckled, making some bubbles burst in Seijuurou’s stomach. “I didn’t know Akashi-kun lived in the dorms too, that’s quite a coincidence.

“Uh… uh-huh…”

Okay, so we’re settled then. Send me your building and room number and I’ll meet you there on Tuesday at… would six in the afternoon be alright?

“Y-yes… yes that would uh… be alright…” Why had Reo stopped writing? Hadn’t he realized that even these extremely simple phrases were absurdly difficult to come up with in his current state of mind?

Cool, I’ll see you then.”

His brain was telling him it was time to use a basic good-bye phrase, but that same brain refused to provide him one. ‘I’ll look forward to it’? No, too obvious. ‘Sure, see you’? Too casual. ‘Good-bye’? Too formal. ‘Farewell’? Too ominous. And now he’d been quiet for too long and Furihata would definitely discover what a disaster he was. He looked at Reo, who still seemed a little in disbelief, but mouthed something he could repeat at the phone.

“See you on Tuesday.”

Sure, bye!

The line clicked shut.

“Seriously, Sei-chan, sometimes I just don’t know what to do with you.”

He didn’t pay any mind to his friend’s words, relishing in the fluttery feeling blossoming in his chest.   A small smile pulled at the corners of Seijuurou’s lips. Tuesday. Tuesday was barely one weekend away.

anonymous asked:

Is it possible for more Red Hood Dick? I don't know. I think it would interesting to see Damian, Tim, and Stephanie actually surprised that Dick is all caring. I don't know, just a thought. Actually where's Cassandra and Barbara now that I'm thinking about it? Who knows.

Cass and Babs were unfortunately left to deal with Bruce’s extra-moodiness with Alfred, and are trying to stop him from doing stupid manpain-induced things.

Stories previous 

Title: Gotcha
Characters: Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne, Tim Drake
A/N: At some point, Dick let the older birds go back to their own apartments and get whatever necessities they wanted or needed (including staying there for a day or two). At some point he snuck back into the manor and stole some of Damian’s stuff, including his sketchbook, for him.


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PLL 4x24 - Observations and things that don't add up

Overall an entertaining episode, and nice seeing more of what (supposedly) happened ‘that night’, but revealed far less than I think we’d all hoped for. Also marred by the lame and really blatant attempts at whitewashing Ezra’s character. Every pathetic excuse they could think of, and then he comes to the rescue at the end. Nope.

Lots of foreshadowing from 4x19, and lots of clues about how it’s someone Mrs D wants to protect, and Melissa knows something. No clues about why all this is happening though. Remember when Alison said that telling the truth to the wrong person at the wrong time got her where she is. Suddenly now she decides to tell them everything, she has no idea who is after her.

I’m going to say, though, I think Alison was doing a lot of bullshitting here. This is partly a game of “clue of continuity error”, but too much of what she said is implausible or contradicts other things we know. If it wasn’t for the Mrs Grunwald thing, I’d be tempted to say Ali was never buried in the first place. And that she is A.

My thoughts, and a bunch of problems with Alison’s story, below the break:

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