#beds are such private and personal spaces and being invited to share one is such an understated display of trust

[canisalbus]

I'm sorry to send a message of sorts through your Ask tab, but I want to say that I really love your piece, " Seclusion ". First, I really love how the room and objects around Vasco and Machete look. The headrest's texturing is extremely cool. It looks beautiful. It makes sense with the era these two lived in, of course, but the design of the headrest feels much older in comparison to modern times now, and I think that's really cool, personally. It's a bit difficult to describe, but the pillows and bedding both look really soft. It feels protective, almost. Finding comfort in isolated sheets, but your characters are together. The comfort is not only furthered, I imagine, but I could see them feeling safe with and because of each other, too. They're resting in silent, cool darkness, the breathing of the other bringing them into a world of just their own, to breathe with just one another, I feel. The way you depict them here, they both look safe, so to speak? They feel so sealed away from the outside, and comfortable. Resting against one another, and the fact that they dress differently to bed, I think is really lovely. This piece is really sweet. Thank you for creating all that you do. It truthfully means a lot to see, and learn of.

.

[magicalqueennightmare]

Why?

(Eventual) Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

When you're hurt and it's not a product of a hunt you intend to hide away and lick your wounds in private but a certain Mikaelson begins to worry and comes to your rescue.

The first knock at your door you disregarded. Surely it was your neighbor or maybe someone with a wrong address. You rented a small place just outside of the french quarter after all so people having a few too many and reading addresses wrong was a usual occurrence.

You were sore over every inch of your body. You were fairly sure nothing was broken but that knowledge didn't stop the pain that every slight movement caused. More than the pain was the embarrassment that this injury had come at the hands of humans. How could you have slipped up that bad?

You'd nearly fallen back asleep when your phone started to ring. You groaned from the effort of pushing yourself up to a sitting position and reached for it.  The moment you saw the caller id you cursed. It was Elijah. You'd avoided him for the better part of the last week but one of his siblings must have caught wind that you'd made it back in town. You didn't want him to see you hurt. You'd tried to always have your feet under you around the ancient vampire. 

He knocked you off balance so you covered it expertly with vague threats and sass. You weren't up to the usual repertoire between the two of you.

You took a deep breath and hoped it wouldn't show in your voice how exhausted you truly were “Elijah Mikaelson, to what do I owe the privilege?” “My darling little hunter. I heard from my sister that you've been in town for nearly a week. Are you avoiding me by chance?” You shifted in the bed and a groan escaped your lips. You closed your eyes praying he hadn't heard. “Not avoiding you. Just been busy”

He was silent for a moment and the thought hit you that maybe he'd hung up until he spoke “Care to answer the door then?” shit, he was the person at your door. “I'll come by later. Just make sure Klaus knows so it's not an announced thing”  “Come to the door” you could feel the pull in his voice and tsk-tsked “Now now Elijah. You promised a long time ago to not try to compel me. Besides I've got enough wards tattooed on me it's next to impossible even for a vampire of your age” 

“Please come to the door” he tried again and you could tell how much it took for him to add the please. “Ok” you hung up the phone and glanced around the room. Your oversized hoodie looked like the best option so you tugged it on over the sports bra and shorts you were currently wearing. It hit mid thigh and with the hood up covered most of your bruises along with the black eye and how swollen the left side of your face was. 

You slowly walked across the small space to your front door and unlocked all three locks before swinging the door open to reveal the vampire standing at your door. Elijah was always impeccably dressed, today he was wearing a black tailored suit which fit him in a way that would've practically made your mouth water any other day.  He had some stubble gracing his chiseled jaw which just added to how handsome he truly was. 

A slight smirk started to slip across his face when he looked in your door but it quickly fell when his eyes met yours.  “Invite me in” Elijah had come to your place a few times but you'd never extended an invite. It caused too much of a risk. You were welcome in the home he shared with his siblings despite you being a hunter and them originals. 

You shook your head slowly but that made the room tilt and you were forced to grab the door frame for support. “Invite me in” he repeated. You managed a weak laugh “You gonna finish me off Mikaelson?” His eyes narrowed so you decided screw it if he threw the niceties to the side and did snap your neck at least you wouldn't be hurting anymore “Come into my home Elijah” 

The moment he crossed the threshold he pushed your hood down and you saw the monster that always lurked just below the surface darken his eyes “Did this occur on a hunt?” You dropped your eyes “Yeah” you felt him move before his fingers ever so gently graced your chin, pulling your face up where you had no choice but to look him in the eye “I'm going to ask once more and make my question more direct. Who or what did this to you?”

You swallowed hard under his gaze. You didn't want to tell him. It was a couple dozen dirty cops. They wanted to use hunters as guns for hire. Technically most hunters had faked their deaths already so who better to pull off kills then the dead? “A few people who wanted me to work for them and I refused”

“Humans did this? My dear I've seen you fight” you nodded slightly, a grimace gracing your face due to the movement causing another wave of dizziness “They caught me by surprise and a taser is very much a field evener for us mere humans” 

It occurred to you that he was still holding your face so you tried to move away from him but you swayed slightly and before you could protect he was picking you up bridal style. “You need to see a doctor” “No insurance” you mumbled, trying to fight the urge to lay your head against his chest as he carried you over to your bed, pulling the blanket back to lay you down. 

He sat down gently on the side of the bed and motioned to the hoodie “May I?” You nodded and felt him pull the soft material up your body. His touch made goosebumps rise across your flesh and you hoped he'd mistake the way your heart started to beat faster for pain. “I'll bring one to you. Need to ensure you don't have any internal damage then you're going to tell me who exactly was involved” 

“Why do you care, Elijah?” You asked and he simply smiled before pulling the hoodie back down “Perhaps I've allowed myself to become fond of the fact that you're not afraid of me. Quite the opposite you don't mind reminding me just how many of my kind you've killed. You're a hunter, I've made peace with that but this? This isn't your job, this was an attack that deserves an answer and I will gladly deliver one” 

You nodded slowly then asked “Are you gonna pay a doctor or compel one?” He shrugged “Whichever works better” you motioned to where your jacket laid “Keys are in the right hand pocket. Lock the door when you leave then let yourself back in” “I'll be back soon” He promised and you knew he would. He would come back with a doctor and if you asked he'd slaughter anyone who'd ever hurt you, the question was why? 

Closer

[charmsandtealeaves]

Just Drink

Working on a few things tidied away in my writing vault. @jilymicrofics ☕☕☕☕ Read it on AO3.

James peered warily into the teacup that was being offered to him, holding his palms open to begrudgingly accept it. The amber-coloured liquid was murky, and if he was honest didn’t look very inviting - not what he had expected when Lily had offered to make him a cup of tea while they completed Professor McGonagall’s latest dastardly Transfiguration essay before bed. They’d secluded themselves in their shared head students’ space after doing their usual castle patrol. Lights out wasn’t for another hour and he was sure to snap grumpily at the excited chattering of the first years if they tried to finish in the Gryffindor common room. 

“Do you want it or not Potter?” she asked, briskly. 

“It’s got no milk in it,” he replied. 

“It’s cinnamon tea. It’s not supposed to” She thrusted the cup into his palms. 

“Personally, I’d go for an English Breakfast or Earl Grey,” James muttered, swirling the contents of his cup with one hand and letting spirals of steam waft up his nose. 

The aroma was a blend of warmth, slight fruitiness, and almost vanilla-like. It reminded him of third year when he’d tried Divination for the supposedly easy grade until he and Sirius got themselves kicked out for smashing too many precious cups and saucers.  

“You’re the one who's been complaining about feeling stiff all week thanks to Quidditch! It's good for you. Look here, read the packet if you don’t trust me.” Lily grabbed the small purple cardboard box off the kitchenette bench and tossed it at him, and he caught it swiftly in one hand despite the lackluster throw. 

He had to admit she was right, he had been complaining about feeling stiff and sore. But their first match of the year was just a week away and the team needed all the practice they could get. James scanned the box description briefly.

Made from the inner bark of the cinnamon tree, and steeped in boiling water, Cinnamon tea is full of beneficial compounds that may offer various health benefits. These benefits include aiding weight loss, improving heart health, alleviating menstrual cramps, and reducing inflammation and blood sugar levels.

He could now understand why the girls from her dormitory were always coming in to raid Lily’s private herbal tea stash from the kitchenette. She had an entire cabinet full of boxes of various fruity concoctions she brought from home or bought from Madam Puddifoot's tea shop in Hogsmeade.  

“I’m not PMSing Evans. I just have a twinge in my neck, that's all.” James scoffed. 

“Keep reading, idiot,” Lily scolded. “It’ll loosen you up.”

“Drinking Cinnamon tea at night before going to bed helps relax tired muscles, build immunity, boost metabolism, and aid digestion - all this while you sleep peacefully!” James read aloud as he brought the cup to his lips and took a few cautious sips. The taste was slightly tangy but it wasn’t terrible. 

“Could do with a bit of sugar,” he muttered. 

“I already put a little honey in it for sweetness, you don’t need any more.” 

“You tellin’ me I’m sweet enough Evans?” James responded coyly. 

“Just drink your tea, you bellend.”

[ykiwrite]

black and white

desc: first time meeting Addams mansion with unexpected turn

"Ma'am, we're close to arriving."

Addams private driver led you down the one way road surrounded by trees towering above the moving car going deeper and deeper into the woods. 

"Let me guess, you're off to plotting my murder and getting rid of my body somewhere?" you theorized not so jokingly upon seeing how far you're venturing from the city itself. 

"Truthfully, that wasn't on my mind until you now just mentioned it so thank you for giving me idea in case you annoy me today." Her shoulder bumping with your own as the road got rockier.

You found it fascinating why did she choose to share one seat with you instead of sitting on the one facing you like a normal human being, as if there's not enough space in this vast car.

You looked just the same as Mr. and Ms. Addams did. She made sure Thing secretly kept track of drivers behavior throughout this week. Never allowing herself for your conversations and their daughters remarkably harsh attitude turned gentle reach her parents ears. What happens in the car, stays in the car.

Movement slowed down as you approached big metal gate with shiny letter 'A' engraved on it followed by lines of spiky pickets. No wonder why it's hidden away. At first glance it would send even the most heroic person home but since you've been indirectly invited to visit by Wednesday gushing about her lavish Machiavelli literature collection. You had nothing to be afraid of. 

Holidays we're starting and weather was getting cold. Regardless of Wednesdays beliefs in utter nonsense of celebrating such thing she couldn't deny she was delighted to spend some time away from Nevermore.

Gates opening revealed the infamous stone made mansion with spacious entrance and gargoyle fountain in the middle. There wasn't much of life when it comes to plants but that was expected. It felt like a shift in time happened and you found yourself in far away history.

Car doors were opened by drivers manners letting you step out. "Your parents aren't home, right?" you asked to check one more time never letting your eyes go off the building in front. 

"I'm certain. As i already told you, my dear mother and father are on a trip just like my brother." she assured you. "They shouldn't be here for at least couple of days." Sending the driver a look was enough for him to realize he has nothing else to do here.

Making your way up to yet another grand entrance Wednesday picked up her pace strolling past to open the door for you with more force than usual needed.

It undoubtedly looked, smelled, felt like Addams residence. Candles were lit illuminating broad room made out of lacquered wood full of various paintings and carvings. Windows reaching the high ceiling hidden by a red Victorian style curtains. Compared to the outside, you were greeted with warmth you owed to a lit fireplace.

"Am i the only non-Addams that got to see this?"

"Perhaps." she answered nonchalantly carrying her bags up the spiral stairs leading to another floor, her room you presumed.

"Are you telling me you had other lovers here?" you gasped in a shock with attempt to get a rise out of her.

Stopping midway, she turned looking down to you who was still at the beginning of stairs. "You are unbelievable. Of course i didn't. You are the one and only since you wanted to hear me say it that badly."

Smiling to yourself and reaching the top you trailed behind her down the long corridor that ended with black doors.

Being opened with a creek due to not being moved for quite some time Wednesday felt at peace. Stepping in the first thing you saw was a cello standing in the very corner. In contrast to the Nevermore one, the four pillared bed in the middle was queen sized with dark covers neatly draped over it. The table in front of window was fairly simple and predictable with Wednesdays typewriter guarded by stack of books and empty trash bin accompanying it. Gaze moving to shelves jammed with books, most looking old and worn out.

"Not all of Machiavelli is here. Big part of it can be found in our library."

"You even have a library?"

"Yes, most of the books there was brought by my grandparents throughout the years of them being together and travelling. It passed down onto my parents and sometime it will be my turn." she stated as a matter of a fact.

"Huh," you mumbled watching her unpack belongings out, "who will you pass it down with?".

"Why bother asking when you know the answer? Besides, are you planning on staying the night?"

You thought your mind was deceiving you but you could hear the faint chatter mixed with footsteps getting louder heading towards the room.

Looking over to upset Wednesday she was already on her way to open the door, "I can't believe this."

"Wednesday!" a woman's voice cried out. "Oh, my favorite daughter-"

"You only have one daughter anyway. Mother, what are you doing here?"

"I knew there was a break from Nevermore so your father and i wanted to surprise you aware you're coming home."

The moment your eyes met her mothers she gasped completely stuck in one spot not used to seeing anybody else in this house. "Wednesday, who is this my dear?"

"Maybe if you weren't to come unannounced we'd have a proper introduction but i doubt it."

Her mother kept looking at you up and down in awe like she's trying to comprehend her daughter standing next to another living person, "Is it the one you talk about every time we get a call from you?"

"Can you please leave? This was not the way i planned it to go." Wednesday pleaded with everything she had in power.

Pointing with finger at you Morticia demanded "Both of you are meeting us at dinner, understand? I'll leave you alone now, please excuse me and my daughter dear. Hope i'll get to know you soon."

As Morticia closed the door and walked away she stopped Gomez from doing the same thing she just did. "Wednesday has a friend over." said with that type of look only two extremely close people could distinguish the meaning behind it.

"Oh does she?" turning his heel around agreeing with his wife it's better to leave it alone for the later.

"Yes, you remember the story of me and Ms. Weems i told you? It's a similar one." Turning corner of the corridor taking one more glimpse of the dark door. "Seems like history is repeating itself."

"Like mother like daughter."

part 2.

note: big thank you for each one of you liking/reblogging my works so far! it means a lot! if you have anything to say, complain about, give advice/idea about it, it wud be much appreciated!

[cal-writes]

dont think i shared this black org au bit with agasa and heiji yet, enjoy

Kudou Shinichi’s face stares at him the moment he turns into the street. It’s a little unnerving. A few days ago Heiji had barely known that this guy existed and now he had seen more pictures of him than he had of Kazuha.

The missing person’s flyer is sunfaded and weathered, barely hanging onto the lamppost at the corner of the street. Two pictures of Kudou Shinichi are printed on it side by side and below were the words: Have you seen me? One of them is a scan of an actual picture of Shinichi in his preschool uniform sans the hat. Next to it is a digitally edited image, the text below stating that he might look something like this today. It lists the date of his disappearance and asks to contact the local police or a private phone number with any leads. Heiji takes a picture of it. It’s been hanging for a while but not longer than a year. Someone had put this up recently.

He files it away for later and continues down the street. It’s a posh and quiet neighbourhood, with rows and rows of giant mansions in European styles. The house of Professor Agasa sticks out like a sore thumb.

It’s a modern build, oval in shape and two stories tall. It reminds Heiji more of the ambitious concept sketches of a new architect than a real house. Giant frosted windows all around the rounded ends and a weird looking overhang over the door. Through the fence there is a modest front yard and a funky looking yellow car in the driveway, equally as round as the house.

Heiji pauses before he tries the gate, glancing over to the neighbouring house. The faded plaque still reads ‘Kudou’. The gate and fence are overgrown with shrubbery, paint chipping off the metal. It sits there ominously looming over the street like the haunted house in a theme park. Another time, Heiji thinks to himself and goes for Agasa’s front door.

He rings the doorbell and almost immediately a muffled booms comes from behind the door making Heiji jump off the stoop and back onto the path. He stands there bracing himself and flinches when the door opens.

Professor Agasa looks just like in the pictures, the years barely touched him but something covered his entire front in soot. He coughs a little, rubbing dust from his eyes and smiling sheepishly. “I’m sorry about the noise I’ll keep it down.” He says before he even sees Heiji fully. He blinks. “Are you a new neighbor?” He asks and Heiji manages to shake off the shock.

“No. Hattori Heiji. I’m a detective. I’m looking into the Kudou family case?” Heiji tells him, pointing toward the Kudou house sitting next door and braces himself for the argument to come.

Agasa is full of surprises. His mouth falls open, eyes wide and glassy. “You’re investigating that old case?” He asks as if he can’t believe it, lip trembling.

“Yeah.” Heiji says slowly, a little unnerved. “I heard you were a friend of the family and was hoping to ask some questions.” Agasa rushes forward to grab his hand, looking at him with so much earnest gratitude it makes Heiji dizzy.

“You are! I can’t believe it. Come in, come in.” Agasa says, full of manic energy. He tucks at Heiji’s hand, leading him toward door before he rushes inside, leaving Heiji to follow. After his earlier experience trying to get people to talk about this with him, he can’t help but feel relieved at the ease of being invited. “Don’t mind the mess.” Agasa tells him, running around wildly as Heiji shuts the door. And it is a mess. Different kind of mess from Mouri’s agency. This was the sort of organized chaos of a creative mind at work.

The interior of the house was equally bizarre as the outside. In the middle was a round kitchen surrounded by a bar counter and stools, one half circle of the oval was covered in bookshelves and fancy rugs, making a reading nook of sorts. Open in the living space further in the back was a bed, next to the door was a tv and couches, behind them a table with a PC.

“Make yourself comfortable, I will be right there.” Agasa tells him and Heiji looks as he runs towards a back door with something metal and smoking in his hands.

Heiji walks around, taking in the space. His feet carry him to the desk and the computer on top of it or rather the stack of freshly printed paper on the corner. Kudou Shinichi looks at him from mint condition missing person flyers. The older version of his face is slightly different from the one he saw outside. He takes one of the papers from the stack as Agasa comes back inside, a little less soot covered.

Heiji lifts the paper. “You made these?” He asks and Agasa deflates a little.

“Yes. I update them every once in a while. Hasn’t worked yet but-“ He stops himself, gesturing over to his kitchen bar. “Please, sit. Are you hungry?”

Heiji opens his mouth to decline but his stomach takes the opportunity to growl. “Starving actually.” He admits and Agasa begins to fly around his kitchen.

Which is how Heiji finds himself peeling carrots while Agasa browns some meat in a pot after offering to help.

“How did you know the Kudous?” He asks, sleeves rolled up his arms. It’s good to keep his hands busy.

“I met them both separately actually. Yuusaku’s agent got into contact with me when he needed a consultant for one of his books. Yukiko and I met over a shared acquaintance. Quite the surprise when they told me they were getting married!” Agasa says brightly. He wipes his hands on the apron he had donned on and grabs a picture stuck to the fridge with a magnet. It’s an old picture, Agasa’s hair still had some brown. He is standing next to a young Yuusaku and Yukiko, all of them in fancy garb and Yukiko holds some sort of award into the camera with a huge smile. Agasa smiles at the picture before putting it aside. “I still can’t believe what happened.” He says and Heiji cuts the carrots, dumping them into the pot as he goes.

“Do you know anyone who would want to harm the family? Bitter exes or scorned colleagues?” Heiji asks and starts to stir before the meat can burn. The sizzling startles Agasa to take over for him again so he can finish up cutting the vegetables.

“No. Yuusaku could be a lot- both of them could be really. Big personalities, those two but they were charming. Made friends wherever they went.” Agasa tells him with an absentminded smile.

Heiji finishes up the carrots moving onto potatoes. “Any of those friends around a lot? Anyone who might have known something going on?”

Agasa strokes his chin. “Not really. Most of their friends were overseas. Though Yukiko had an actress friend who was over frequently.” He closes his eyes to think. “I always got their names mixed up. Vineyard. A mother and daughter. The mother died very young and her daughter got into the acting business after. Chris and Sharon.” Heiji wipes his hands and writes the names down quickly. “I ran into the daughter a few times, nice woman but never talked much with her.”

“Was she in Japan the week of the disappearance?” Heiji asks before resuming his peeling duties.

Agasa frowns. “I don’t think so but I’m not sure.”

Heiji just nods, something to look into more later. They focus on cooking for a while, setting up the box curry mix to simmer and the rice to cook and settle at the bar counter as they wait.

“You said you knew Yukiko through a mutual acquaintance. Who is that?” Heiji asks.

“Kounosuke Jii. He was the assistant of a magician that Yukiko learned under. I helped him build some of the contraptions used for the tricks.” Agasa says.

“Kuroba Toichi, right?” Heiji asks to confirm and Agasa nods. “An actress learning to be a magician, isn’t that a little odd?”

Agasa smiles. “Yukiko was always like that, always looking to learn new things. She had a bunch of odd skills. One year she decided to pick up an instrument and learned to play the piano in a few months. Could never keep her mind still. She and Shinichi were both like that.” He says and his voice breaks a little by the end, eyes brimming with tears. He stands before Heiji can offer comfort, walking over to one of his shelves to grab a picture frame. It’s of Agasa, a little more gray than in the previous image and looking very concerned with a baby on his arm that tries to grab his hair. Agasa’s smile is trembling as he looks at it. “If I just hadn’t gone on that stupid trip. Or let him come with me.” He says with deep rooted regret it makes Heiji’s throat swell with emotion.

“I heard you were at an exhibition or something?” He asks before Agasa’s eyes spill over. The man clears his throat, setting down the picture frame with care onto the counter.

“I was asked to show off a drone prototype at an aviation museum.” He explains bitterly, shaking his head. “Shinichi wanted to come along so bad. But it was a school night.”

“He was into planes?” Heiji asks, a little surprised. So far the kid had seemed very aloof to just about anything but Heiji reminds himself that Shinichi was a six year old at the time. No six year old could be serious all the time.

Agasa beams at the memory. “Few things could excite that boy but any mode of transportation he was interested in. As a baby Yukiko would drive around the block with him when he couldn’t sleep. Drove the neighbors mad with her speeding.” The rice cooker chimes and they break to eat. Heiji scarfs his portion down quickly and Agasa has a similar pace, both of them admitting to each other sheepishly that it was the first thing they had eaten all day, too focused on their work.

“The night you came back from the trip. Tell me what happened?” Heiji asks carefully and Agasa takes a deep breath.

“Kogoro-kun saw me drive up and waved me down. He asked if I knew where the Kudous were, which I didn’t. I got my spare key and let them in when they told me nobody had gotten a hold of them.” Agasa closes his eyes, hand on his forehead. “Yuusaku could get absorbed in his work. I went to the library to check if that was the case and-“ He chokes and Heiji lifts his hand.

“I read the report.” He says to spare Agasa the need to retell him.

Agasa swallows hard before he lifts his head. “That big house has so many hiding places. I searched through it all night, twice when the rest of the police got there. Turned my house upside down. I was hoping Shinichi would have been hiding somewhere.” He says, lips a trembling line and as Heiji watches him struggle to speak he prays to every god he knows that Agasa is innocent in all this. “But he wasn’t.” Agasa adds eventually.

“Shinichi spent a lot of time with you.” Heiji says to prompt further.

Agasa nods, taking a moment to blow his nose and dry his eyes. “He had his own key. He’d come over after school and do his homework over there.” He says and points toward the living room area where a couch table sits between the two couches. “He’d be done so fast and then demand to be entertained. He was-“ He stops himself. “He’s-“ The words fail him again. “So smart. Smarter than some adults I’ve met, even at that age.”

Heiji smiles faintly at the adoration in every line of Agasa’s being. The Kudous really had been the man’s family. Heiji can’t imagine the grief that must have followed that terrible night. “I heard Yukiko and Yuusaku had been fighting before the disappearance, do you know anything about that?”

Agasa sighed. “Yukiko was a passionate woman. She could get angry quickly but she would calm down just as fast. It didn’t always pair well with Yuusaku’s aloofness.” He says diplomatically. “They fought sometimes but it rarely lasted longer than a day.”

“Did Shinichi ever mention anything?”

“Couldn’t hide a thing from that boy. He would come over and tell me when they were fighting as if he was disappointed or annoyed with them.” Agasa laughs a little and Heiji cannot help but find the image of a child complaining to his neighbor about his irrational parents. Precocious indeed.

He thumbs through his notes, looking for more things to ask and lands back on his wild scribbles from the police station. “According to the airport, Shinichi and his mother flew to China a few days earlier. Any connections there that you know of?”

Agasa thinks for a bit before he shakes his head. “I wouldn’t rule it out but most of their friends were from America.”

Heiji just nods. He doubts they actually set foot outside of Japan, at least not through official means. He blows out a breath. Now with a full belly and sitting down for a prolonged time, the day catches up to him. His head full of images and snippets, thoughts spinning wildly. That’s why he usually doesn’t do cold cases. Before he’s even started he feels like he’s already too late.

“Tell me about that magician. When did Yukiko stop working with him?” He asks.

“Before she started getting big into acting. She was discovered by her agent while acting as Kuroba’s assistant and she quit some time after.” Agasa says.

“Were they on good terms?” Heiji asks.

Agasa nods. “She mentioned him occasionally. They talked over the phone from time to time. Jii never mentioned him being bitter or anything about her leaving.”

Heiji nods, mind going faster than his pen. His notes of today were a mess comparable to Agasa’s house. Organized chaos. He just hoped he could find his way around tomorrow. “What’s Kuroba up to now? Do you know?” He says, halfway itching to look the man up on his phone but settles for writing himself a note about it in between his mad scribbles.

“Ah, he died several years ago.” Agasa says and Heiji pauses in his writing to look at him. He’s a little sad but not as devastated as he is when talking about the Kudous. They weren’t as close it seems. “A prop malfunctioned- not one of mine.” Agasa adds hastily and Heiji bites his tongue. It wouldn’t have been his next question but it had definitely occurred to him.

“Was that before or after the disappearance?”

“A few years after. I went to the funeral with Jii.” Agasa tells him and Heiji nods again, pinching the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes. Only realizing now how much they burn.

“Right, okay.” He says trying to think of more to say but he can feel that it’s enough for today. “I should go but this was a huge help. Can I come back if I have more questions?” He asks, helping Agasa clean away the dishes into a concerning contraption of a dishwasher.

“Please, if I can help in anyway let me know. Where are you staying? I can drive you. It’s too late to be on the subway.” Agasa offers eagerly and with a look at the time Heiji doesn’t mind taking him up on it.

[bookofbolden]

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Eleanor's Apartment PARTIES: Farah Bolden-Landry & Eleanor SUMMARY: Eleanor gets a surprise visit from her younger sister who's hellbent on getting her out of Wicked's Rest. WARNINGS: Mention of substance abuse, depression

Farah Bolden-Landry was a fierce woman who had never backed down from any fight and stood firmly upon what she believed in. She wasn’t easily influenced and she spoke her mind no matter how uncomfortable it might make everyone else. She was Eleanor’s biggest role model and best friend, having taken the older girl under her wing almost immediately after she’d been dumped on the Bolden’s doorstep. She’d gladly invited Eleanor to share her bedroom, had made sure that everyone in the intimidating private school all of the Bolden children attended didn’t hurt a hair on her newest sister’s head, and was the first person Eleanor had ever opened up to about her sexuality.

It wasn’t easy for Eleanor to hide how poorly she was doing whenever it came to Farah. It was simple to put on a cheerful voice whenever her parents called or to send a few smiling emojis whenever the rest of her siblings texted, but Farah was different and at times Eleanor wondered if her sister was also an empath because of her uncanny ability to always know when something wasn’t right. She wasn’t used to others being able to pinpoint her emotional state and it made her skin crawl, ironic since she’d been accused of the very same thing her entire life.

It was because of Farah’s immense emotional intelligence that her surprise visit shook Eleanor to the core - she hadn’t even had time to prepare an elaborate speech about how much she loved her new life in her new town.

“Farah?” Eleanor blinked away the last remnants of sleep and stared blankly at her sister. She’d been ripped from her dreamless slumber at the sound of someone banging on her front door, her cotton pajama set crooked and her hair a rat’s nest. She hadn’t even bothered with her glasses which was why the familiar face was somewhat distorted. “Do you know what time it is?”

“Noon, Elle. It’s noon.” Farah responded in her husky voice and took in the dark circles under her older sister’s eyes (which she’d been successful at hiding from everyone else thus far under a layer or two of concealer) and the poor state of the apartment behind her. It wasn't like Eleanor to let her living space become unmanageable, even as a kid she’d been a neat freak and had insisted that everything had a place. “Mom and Dad gave me a big story about how you’re loving it in this shitty town and you're moving on quickly. They said that your therapy appointments are going well, too. I knew it was all a crock of shit. You’re really pulling off the hot grandma look, by the way.” She motioned to Eleanor’s pajamas with a smirk.

Eleanor frowned up at her sister. “Why’re you here?”

“It’s good to see you too.” Farah pushed her way past Eleanor and took a look around the small apartment. “Are you sleeping on the couch?”

Eleanor sighed, closed the door, and turned to face her fate. She’d thought she would have a lot more time before any of her family thought it necessary to make a house call - she’d obviously been letting her mask slip.

Her eyes landed on the couch with its mountain of pillows and blankets. She couldn’t tell the truth that she was terrified of sleeping in her bed because sometimes it still smelled like Lily and other times she would roll over in the dead of night and swear her girlfriend was lying there next to her, softly snoring like she always did.

“It was just one night.” She busied herself with cleaning up the mess on the couch as a way to avoid looking Farah in the eye as she lied through her teeth. “What brings you to Wicked’s Rest? Shouldn’t you be in Canada with your husband?” Farah had married a Canadian businessman and they traveled back and forth often in order to keep in touch with both of their families. 

“He's busy and I wanted to come see my big sister.” The younger woman shared a smile.

“And to check up on me.”

Farah rolled her eyes and flopped down onto the newly tidied couch. “Can you blame me? You’ve been off the grid for a month now and the only things I’m hearing about you are coming from our parents. They’re easy to fool because they want to believe all the things you’re telling them. You know how gullible they are: they gave Dylan another loan two months ago because they still think he’s trying to start up a business even though every time they give him a big chunk of change the local plug gets a new Mercedes.”

Eleanor nodded slowly, her arms crossed over her chest. “So our brother is still struggling with addiction and you've chosen to come here and criticize me because I slept on the couch last night?”

“Not the point and you know it.” Farah responded in a condescending sing-song voice. “Where are all of these friends our parents say you’re making? Are they real or in your head?”

Eleanor scowled and turned to stomp into the kitchen. She needed to keep her hands busy so that she could think through her responses quickly - one wrong word and Farah would have her packed up and on a plane to Canada and there was absolutely nothing she’d be able to do about it.

But her friends were real, she just couldn’t give too much information about them unless she wanted to chance being placed in a padded room while at the same time being specific enough to ensure that her sister knew she wasn’t making anything up. What could she possibly say to Farah? Yeah, my friends are real! And guess what? One of them’s a vampire and the other another undead type. And there was even a water nymph, whatever the hell that is, and she threatened me with a knife before I unknowingly insulted her and she ran off. That wouldn’t go over too well. Her sister knew of her abilities, but she wouldn’t be so open to accepting more than that, even less so if the information was coming from her clinically depressed, recently traumatized sister.

“We’re all adults, they can’t just hang out at my place all day like we don’t have jobs.” Eleanor was surprised to find that her sister was correct about the time but still decided to start making herself breakfast. It was the first time in a week that she’d turned on the stove and let out a deep breath when it went over without a hitch despite being neglected in favor of takeout. “Um… there’s Metzli, we met when they offered to give me some inspiration for my book with their art. They’re an amazing artist, you should see some of their stuff. There’s Ariadne and she’s into ballet like me and she's really sweet.” She was also recently kidnapped, but apparently that’s just something that happens around here from time to time. “Teagan, uh,” although she tried to cover it with a cough the hesitation was noticeable, “Teagan’s here, too.”

“Those names sound made up. Except for Teagan, I kinda like that one. I’m gonna add it to the list.”

At the mention of Farah’s famed list Eleanor spun around and pounced on the opportunity to change the subject. “You two are still trying for a baby? How’re you ever gonna be able to pick a name if you keep adding to that damn list?”

As stern as she was, Farah was unable to stop herself from smiling in response to her sister’s enthusiasm. “Our efforts and the list are still going strong. Mom also offered to get me in touch with all the people they worked with just in case -”

“You’re gonna be able to have your own, sometimes it just takes a little bit of time.” Eleanor interjected when she felt the shift in her sister’s mood turn darker. “Don’t even think about that yet because it’ll just add stress.”

“But we also have to be realistic. And adoption isn’t bad at all, look at how we ended up because of it.” Farah looked over her sister again and Eleanor shifted uncomfortably at the pangs of guilt and pity that were directed towards her. She didn’t want either.

She turned back to the stove and a comfortable silence fell over the apartment, though she could feel that her sister was trying to find something to say that would convince Eleanor to leave with her. It would all be in vain, of course, but she would try as she had multiple times before.

“Elle…” Farah started and Eleanor looked over her shoulder, her jaw set and ready to protest, but she immediately melted when she saw the tired, concerned look on her sister’s face. “We’re worried about you.”

“Don’t be.” She transferred the finished eggs onto a serving plate before she moved to the small desk she’d tucked into the corner of the living room and picked up two large notebooks to show Farah. “I’m working and it’s taking everything out of me, but that’s good! I’m researching and getting out of my apartment and meeting people -”

“For work.” Farah held up her hand to stop Eleanor before she could continue on her rant. “You’re researching and leaving your apartment and talking to people for work. You need to have people over just for fun, or go out and do something that doesn’t involve getting information for your next project. Hell, just go and get some coffee.”

“I’m always getting coffee!” Eleanor felt the frustration bubble up and out of her before she could stop it and she threw the notebooks back onto the table. “I’m always trying but there’s no results so no one sees that, Farah! I leave my apartment and it feels like the entire world is gonna come crashing down on me. I meet someone new and I have to decide whether those feelings that I’m having are actually mine or if I’m just experiencing whatever they’re feeling. I go to get coffee and I have to fight the urge to just drop to the ground because it’s so… loud.” Tears that she hadn’t realized had built up in her eyes spilled over and she swiped angrily at them. “She’s not here to help me anymore. I don’t get to have her around and have her calm me whenever things get bad and I don’t think people understand how awful that is because she’s not just gone, I feel her every single day and she’s terrified and in pain constantly. She’s here, in my mind, but I can’t see her or talk to her, but she’s there just out of reach. Every day, from the moment I wake up to the moment I fall asleep. I feel everything! And the only advice I can get is ‘get out of the house’ or ‘make some friends’. I can leave the house, but she won’t be out there, and I can make some friends, but they won’t be her.”

Farah seemed frozen for a moment until she was finally able to get to her feet and cross the room to her sister. She gently wiped the tears from Eleanor’s cheeks and tapped the tip of her nose like she would do when they were younger. 

“Not once have you said her name out loud - you can’t, can you?”

And there was no reason to argue because it was true. She could type Lily’s name while speaking with people online, but she couldn't bring the name to her lips. She thought life itself would end should she call out and receive no response.

“Come back with me, you’ll have your own side of the house with an actual office and everything, you won’t even have to see me and Daniel if you don’t want to. And when we have a kid… I’ll make sure to keep them away from you until they’re able to self-regulate their emotions. A baby would probably be a nightmare for you now that I’m thinking about it.” Farah straightened Eleanor's pajamas and quickly ran her fingers through the mess of hair atop her head, always the caretaker despite being the younger of the pair. “Everyone would be able to breathe a little bit better if they knew you were with us - or at the very least go home, Mom and Dad would probably die of happiness to have you back.”

Could she leave? She wouldn't want to move back in with her parents because she would be smothered. Her parents had always been concerned about her, but Lily’s disappearance had really amped it up. Eleanor knew that she would never know peace should she return to the Bolden household. But she could live with her sister, without a doubt, and happily at that. Farah was good at giving people space because she required a lot of it herself and she wouldn’t feel the need to check in every hour on the hour, maybe once or twice a day if she’d noticed Eleanor hadn’t left her room for food. It had been extremely easy for the two to share a room when they were teenagers and even though Farah was a little messier than Eleanor liked, they compromised nicely and were able to coexist without driving each other insane.

“You won’t be alone anymore.” Farah added, mistaking the faraway look on Elenaor’s face as her trying to come up with some excuse as to why she should stay.

Eleanor shook her head. “I’m not alone.” She was lonely but not alone, and even that could be fixed with a simple message to either Metzli or Ariadne. She knew either one would be at her front door the moment she confessed she needed them. But that was the problem, she didn’t want to bother them.

“Right, your friends with the weird names.” Farah sighed and took a step back. “Just think about it for me? We could have you packed up and out of here before the end of the week, promise. Only the best for you and absolutely nothing less. I really think that you need to get away from everything that reminds you of what used to be - I mean, what're you even doing here?"

Although Eleanor would have loved to say that she hadn’t been swayed by Farah’s promises she had to admit that the woman had offered an appealing deal. What was she doing in Wicked’s Rest? She couldn’t find a missing person all on her own, especially not now that the police would be no help since they’d determined that Lily wasn’t missing at all but had instead just ran off.

She pulled Farah into a hug. "I'm going to stay, even if it's just a little while longer. I promise I'll be in touch more and be more honest about what I'm going through - with you, not our parents. They don't need to be anymore worried."

Farah let out a short sigh and hugged her back. "You have six months, if you haven't gotten better by then you're coming back with me. I'll have it court ordered and everything, don't make me cause a scene."

And if there was one thing Farah didn't joke about it was causing a scene. Eleanor immediately felt the pressure of the deadline: six months to turn her life around, at least enough to trick her incredibly intuitive sister... would she be able to do it?

She had no choice but to try.

[lovingwhitemtnsnh]

Home for Sale - $485,000 - Lull to Sleep with the sound of the Mill Brook Virtual Tour: https://tourwizard.net/7dad81b1/

WELCOME HOME  as your gonna want to make it yours once you see it in person! This outstanding capehas so many features that I am certain to miss something , so lets begin . Located in a quite rural community known as the Woods at Millbrook this home shares in common with the others in the home owners association, common land which includes the community’s entrance , field and frontage on the Millbrook(and the homeowners dues are only $150 a year so it doesn’t break the bank. This common land is a great place to dip your feet into the cold mountain waters to cool off on a hot summer day or hang out for a picnic or to draw or paint  the water flowing down the rocky way(great for trout fishing too) . It is further, a  part of the Town of Thornton NH, One of the towns in the GATEWAY TO NH’S WHITE MOUNTAIN NATIONAL FOREST, with all that both the White Mountains and Thornton have to offer. If you are an outdoor person, this area will offer you so much,  from rock climbing to river boating to lakes to the mountains, hiking, fishing hunting , camping, skiing, snowmobiling , golfing and so much more – it all surrounds you. But in addition to the outdoors offerings , there is so much culture that you can take in including the Boggie and Blues festival , outdoor concerts, summer theater, year round access to the venues of the Flying Monkey and great restaurants no matter your taste . Plymouth State University is only a few towns away as is NH’s Lakes Region too.

Privately you will own, if you make this your home,  1.47 acres of a private oasis from the goings on in the world. Surrounded by trees and yet open areas, that  surround the home to allow for raised bed gardens and a hiding space down a small trail to a wonderful firepit . While this firepit is surrounded by forests , just below it (not fronted on this property) is the Mill Brook as it passes by  on its way to the falls down the way. When running hard you can be lulled to sleep in the home by its lovely sound. And when not roaring , it is always in the back ground for gentle peaceful background noise. With a little cutting you could also see it and possibly also the local mountains beyond . The owners have it set up with a birch archway and solar lights for ambiance . Of course it is a space that will give you a sense of being in the moment, just as it is and a wonderful spot to spend alone or time with friends and family by the snapping fire surrounded by rock that the owners of the past  have mined from the land.

As you walk from the driveway you pass a shed, great for storing for all your outdoor tools in a convenient location to easily retrieve them . Walking down the path the owners have spread wild flowers throughout the front lawn that  includes echinacea among many pollinator type plantings. Up the front steps onto an inviting  farmers porch with real mahogany decking leading to the stained glass entry door with sidelights.  This covered Farmers porch is calling for your rocking chairs and  whether you  look for the wine and cheese or the morning coffee this would be a great place to spend some time. Open the door and the first thing you see, is  the high ceilings and this beautiful Granite and soapstone floor to 2 story high cathedral ceiling fireplace. This fireplace sets the stage for the wonderful great  inviting room  that follows . Beautiful pine flooring is  easy to clean up.  Leading on, you  come into the homes cozy living room space.  This great room boasts lots of glass throughout to  allows for  natural light to soak into the home. Onto the very special chefs dream kitchen that boasts a corner sink with breakfast bar that surround.  This kitchen area is not only designed for a chefs dream it is well designed for entertaining. Corian counters is only one of many great features,  high breakfast bars allow for seating all around, stainless appliances and beautiful Beede board maple cabinets. Some of the features of these cabinets include pull out drawers , recycle cabinet, wine rack and the beautiful door fronts with Beede board design. While you entertain family or friends or just enjoy a quiet time of baking your favorite cookies, this room will fill you with joy.  Onto the dining area  which flanks the large open room and through sliders lead to the back open deck . This space could allow from a lot of additional outdoor living just add your favorite outdoor chairs and  its plumbed for exterior gas for your BBQ  or an outdoor generator (as possible uses) .

The first floor also boasts two bedrooms and a beautiful bath. The current owners use one of these as one of their home offices but it has a nice closet so it can be used by you as a bedroom or an office. And if you have someone in your family that cant use the stairs, both rooms with a full modern bath allow accommodating that .

Second story overlooks the cathedral ceiling to the fireplace  below with berber carpet ,  open railings makes this open loft your dream family space , man or woman cave  or as the current owner uses a large open office .  Also off this stairway up, leads to the  home’s primary bedroom with large  closet boasting pocket door to not waste any space and its own  full  modern bath with double sinks, tile flooring linen closet mullin windows ( one needed replacement and had to be special ordered as it is not the average bear –  its on order ) . Further note all the rooms in the home as solid wood paneled doors.

Down into the walkout basement, the back of the home leads into the home with double doors  that allow for lots of storage  that can include your motorcycle or snowmobile , canoe…. . The space is high and dry with a woodstove allowing for many future uses including finishing off additional space  for family, additional sleeping , storage closets , you name it . Water lines are all pex type  with a great mantle allowing for separation of each sink or water appliance , 200 amp circuit breakers  with loads of space to add , woodstove hookup. The homes hot air heating system has a humidifier (that is currently not hooked up but nothing was wrong with it , the owner received a recommendation that the heating system would last longer if they did not run it ) . And the house comes with central air throughout . Basement laundry  and the washer dryer  stay.   

Other features is 30 year architectural shingles , concrete board siding dog dormers in the front and a full dormer to the rear, drilled well ,Spectrum high speed internet and cable , 2005 septic , buried LP gas tank(Dead river owns the tank so they have to maintain it for you), all for ease of maintenance . While there is currently no garage there is plenty of room to add one , if you desire . And all with a price of only 485,000 .00 BUT DON’T WAIT . will get sold quickly at this price .

Property Type: House Building Type: House Bedrooms: 3 Bathrooms: 2 Lot Size: 1.47 Year Built: 2005 For more information call 6037268642 or 6032547037

[elysianslove]

haikyuu boys and tropes that suit them!

includes: kageyama tobio, iwaizumi hajime, oikawa tōru, sakusa kiyoomi, miya osamu, miya atsumu, suna rintarō

(possibly part 1??? consider this an apology for not posting as much 💔)

kageyama tobio — practice kissing. 

kageyama is, as embarrassing as it is for him to admit this, inexperienced, greatly so. he’s in his third year of high school, 18, and is yet to have his first kiss. college is approaching him dauntingly quick, and he doesn’t think he can handle being as clueless as he is for any longer. so while you’re sat on his bed scrolling through his phone, he bluntly asks you if you’ve ever kissed someone. he seemed so confident, and the words were straightforward and lacked any sign of anxiety or uneasiness. but the moment they left his mouth, he’s red in the face and his hands are shaking. when you agree to help him practice, he’s scared, shy, flustered, and his heart is in his throat, but he lets you lead the, setting the pace yourself as you sit before him, his face in your hands, pulling him closer to you. it’s electrifying, to put it to the least. he’d heard a million horror stories from his upperclassmen about first kisses, but he finds himself unable to relate. everything about the kiss and you is perfect, and he asks for more practice, starts looking forward to theses ‘sessions.’ he starts growing more and more confident, until he’s the one flustering you, the one making you gasp and squirm and mewl, not the other way around. and maybe he’ll find it in him to confess. maybe. 

iwaizumi hajime — friends to lovers. 

in general, with iwaizumi, he has a hard time believing in that he’s meant for a relationship, in that he has his own person, and for many reasons. he tries to be rational about it, saying he has other priorities at the moment, that he won’t be able to give his all, that he’s not particularly ready or in the right headspace/situation to commit to a person and a relationship. but it’s also, deep down, because of this indescribable fear of not being enough, of his flaws being too much, of being too imperfect. he just chooses not to get a headache over it, honestly. that’s why friends to lovers is perfect for him. it’s this person who he’s known for a long time, someone he’s come to know so well, so deeply, and vice versa. they’ve seen the bad and good of each other, been through all the ups and downs, learnt all their quirks, their habits, their tendencies. this is someone who is already a priority, someone who is already a constant. of course, he still hurts his head thinking about how wrong it is to have feelings for his friend, and the shame and guilt eats at him from the inside out. but it’s just so— easy. to love them. it’s so, so easy, as easy as breathing. and iwaizumi spends such a large amount of time pining and yearning that the final straw, the snap, the breathless confession, is so satisfying. 

oikawa tōru — enemies to lovers. 

oikawa wants and needs someone that’ll both keep him on his toes, always pushing him to the very edge but not completely over. he needs someone that excites him, someone that he has to work to earn. the word enemies is blurry to him. all he sees is someone playing hard to get, and he takes it as a challenge. it’s not that he wants and needs everyone to be in love with him and how dare you not be swooning at the sight of me!! it’s more that this person intrigues him impossibly. this person challenges him, bites back, and bites back hard. and the transition from enemies to lovers is so smooth with him, because it’s unpredictable and unexpected. one moment you’re swearing at him across the hall, the next you’re tenderly massaging at his injured knee and reassuring him of his hard work and efforts. it’s beautiful, really. the snarky comments and the flirty comebacks and the glares returned with playful grins, and them the moment of realization that opens up a whole new door that this person isn’t so bad after all. the satisfaction of finally giving in, either so slowly, so carefully and timidly, or rushed, hurried and desperate. so good. 

sakusa kiyoomi — there was only one bed! 

sakusa does not share. it’s nothing personal (sometimes it is), but he just prefers to have his own private space, where he can be comfortable. but things happen! like a trip where you’re stuck in the same room! and there’s only one bed! and the person you’re stuck with is the same person you’re very confused in regards to your feelings about them! the trip is a couple of days, and so it starts with the offer to sleep on the couch. it’s very uncomfortable, but he does it anyways, because a) he’s a gentleman, and b) you both now each have your private, safe space. two days pass, and you both tiredly pass out on the bed next to one another. he wakes up before you in horror and falls onto the couch quickly, but he doesn’t fall asleep again. as if this were fate’s play, you find yourself unable to sleep, and neither can he, so you quietly scoot over, a silent invitation. reluctantly, he accepts. he doesn’t spend that night sleeping either, instead simply stares at you, his hand outreaching for you, but not quite touching. eventually comes a day when he wakes up with your face buried in his shoulder, and although his cheeks are as warm as ever, he doesn’t feel uncomfortable. he only feels grateful to be finally touching you. 

miya osamu — soft only for their lover. 

it’s not that osamu is rude to others, or hates everyone else, or anything along those lines. it’s more that he’s less likely to open up, be vulnerable, be softer, easier than compared to with his partner. with his lover, he smiles easier, expressions are readable, his eyes always a dead giveaway to what’s on his mind. he’s colder and less approachable to others, but it’s almost as if his resolve melts the moment he spots his lover. he could be yelling at someone, angrily, then turn to his partner and in the softest voice say, “just a moment, my love,” and go back to yelling as if it were completely normal. similarly, he will always take his lover’s side of the argument regardless of whether they’re right or wrong. and, he’ll be kissing his lover, but pause for a moment to deck his brother, then return to kissing his lover again even softer. it’s because his lover owns such a big part of his heart, and when osamu loves, he loves with every part of him. he’s been called out on it multiple times; the fact that he’s so much meaner and harsher and stubborn with everyone else, including his brother, but it’s always the opposite with you. you are his soft spot, really, and it tickles your tummy whenever you notice the little changes and shifts in his attitude and personality when it comes to you. 

miya atsumu — enemies to lovers. 

unlike with oikawa’s case, you and atsumu genuinely hate each other. you despise his attitude, his cockiness, his ideals, his approaches, his voice, his hair, everything, and likewise, he can’t stand you. he’d only ever been rude to you, and in response, you’d defended yourself by being equally as rude. this isn’t playing hard to get enemies, this is i hate your guts enemies. rarely does being in a room with him not result in some sort of argument. your mutual friends are all fed up, of the arguments, the fighting, the smack talk behind one another’s backs, the complaining, everything. it’s infuriating, and so they beg you to talk it out, to try and resolve whatever it was going on between you, but either he wouldn’t cooperate, or you wouldn’t. it seemed hopeless, until at some point in time, you get badly hurt, maybe mentally or physically, but atsumu finds himself worried unbelievably. it’s irrational to be, especially with your history with one another. but he’s worried, insanely so, and when he finds you, finds out you’re okay, or you will be, the relief that fills him is dizzying and so, scary. but maybe the both of you were just projecting onto each other, the fact that you so badly wanted each other but felt like you couldn’t do anything. 

suna rintarō — brother’s best friend. 

it’s a dash of forbidden love, a dash of friends to lovers. he’s your brother’s best friend, older than you, and it’s wrong, you know it is, but you can’t help it. on the days he’s invited over, you purposely make sure to stay at home, and you make excuses to pass by your brother’s room constantly, to talk to him. he knows you like him, knows you’re desperately chasing after him in your own subtle way, and for a while, suna lets you. he acts dumb, none the wiser, lets you have your little fun of sneaking snaps of him to send to your friends and when you purposely press your leg against his sitting next to him on the couch or when you offer your lollipop after you suck on it. he indulges you, slightly, subtly. and when he sees it suitable, finds it right, he starts to return the advances: he accidentally arrives a little earlier than planned to your home when he’s invited, and he passed by you in school more often, and he makes up excuses to text you all the time. eventually, the sexual tension is unbearable, suffocating, incredibly overwhelming, and when it snaps, nothing else matters. just the two of you. he’s experienced, good with his words and his hands and his mouth and he’s a dream. and all you do is fall deeper, and deeper, and deeper. 

[marvelsuperfangirl]

Daddy Strange

Stephen Strange x Reader

Your face was visibly showing an extreme happiness and you were wearing a coat that was definitely not yours when you stepped into the elevator of the Avengers tower. You'd spend a wonderful night with an equally wonderful man, but now it was time to go home and to face the intimate questions of your roommates.

The elevator stopped at the lab floor and when the door opened you weren't even surprised to see Tony. He either checked the surveillance cameras to know where you were to make sure he would see you before you reached your bedroom or it was a really surprising coincidence.

-" Well, good evening there." he said smugly, placing himself beside you. " Had a good night?"  

You sighed deciding to get rid of the worst first.

-" Yeah, a really good one, for your information we didn't do what the most innocents wouldn't do" you said giving him a fake smile and went to stare at the metal wall.

Tony hummed and stay silent during the rest of the ride, which was unusual, ordinary he usually would make innuendos or ask personal questions about your significant other, since you never talked about it, considering it private and with none relation to the Avengers.

The elevator stopped at the common room and as soon as the door opened you exit the metal box to escape Tony who was probably up to no good with his suspicious quietness.

But what was waiting for you was even worse than a plotting billionaire.

Your whole team of friends were assembled in the TV space, their eyes focus on you with a similar smile on all their faces.

-" How was the night, Y/N?" Natasha asked you

You let out an exasperated sigh.

-" So, this is what it's all about?"

-" Just give up and we'll leave you alone. We just want to know whose gentleman is sharing the life of our precious friend" Clint said.

With an eyeroll you finally realized that you irritating friends, despite being adorable when they wanted wouldn't leave you alone if you didn't bring them your boyfriend.

" All right! I'll ask him to come for diner" you said, sighing in defeat before heading to your room under the laughed and screams of victory of your friends.

**********

“We're going where?" Stephen asked-yelled after you just announced him that he was invited to the Avengers tower for diner.

-" They wouldn't leave me alone; you just have to seem like the best boyfriend in the world that's shouldn't be too complicated"

-" Of course, I don't even need to act, I am the best boyfriend in the world!" he stated already sporting a smirk.

You rolled your eyes and sat on his bed, waiting for him to get dressed.

“You need to be aware that Tony is going to show off and try to make you understand how better than you he thinks he is”

Stephen scoffed, sliding on his dress shirt and turned to you, offering a nice view of his toned chest over which he slowly buttoned up the white cloth.

“I know what kind of man he is, luckily, I have my legendary wit; that will manage to canalize him”

You rolled your eyes at him and stood up to walk over to him. When you reached his level, you pulled his hands away from the shirt and started buttoning it up yourself.

“Please try to behave, I don’t want to spend the whole evening with you two having a dick measuring contest”

His face contorted into a teasing grin.

“There’s no need for that, you know mine’s definitely the biggest”

You couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped your lips at his silly remark but still tapped his chest with the palm of your hand in a reprimanding gesture.

“I hope you don’t intend to use that as an argument in your favor tonight”

You finished buttoning the shirt and adjusted the collar around his neck and he handed you his necktie, letting his fingers linger against yours for an instant longer.

“We’ll see” he smirked

You only spared him a glance before focusing in tying the classy silk cloth around his neck. In a few manipulations, you were done with your task and you pulled slightly on it bringing his face closer to yours.

“Let’s keep your dick between you and me only, hum?”

Without waiting for an answer, you kissed him, your other hand wandering to his belt pulling his hips against yours as the kiss intensifies.

His lips left yours to languidly kiss your neck, making your sigh in content.

“We’re going to be late” you whispered, making no attempts to push him away.

Stephen, stopped his attack on your neck to press a chaste kiss to your lips.

“Says the one who started this”

“We shouldn’t give my friends too many reasons to hate you first hand. I’m sure the very first comment you’ll get will be about your age.” you breathe, managing to push his lips off of him for a short instant before his tongue licked your lower lip.

When it seemed like you were about to get to the next level, he pulled away, enough to have a great look at your whole face while still fanning his hot breath on your swollen lips.

“They should give older men more credit, they’ll probably do when they’ll know what I can do to you” he rasped, eyes never wavering from yours.

And an instant later, he was stealing your next breath away, slowly backing you toward his bed before pushing you to lay down on the soft surface.

He paused, watching as you opened your arms, calling desperately for him, that inviting sight he couldn’t resist.

“Let’s give Stark a first reason to hate me” he rasped, tugging on the knot of his tie.

**

Stephen and yourself entered the compound’s elevator, 45 minutes later than you should originally have. The multitude of messages and missed calls from the team made you already hear all the remarks for Stephen or the dirty innuendos.

But with a glance at his slightly unruly hair and remaining stains of your lipstick behind his ear, you knew it was worth it.

[moonctzeny]

Can I request WayV reaction to you suddenly avoiding skinship/intimacy because you don't feel attractive anymore after they rejected you once? (they were tired or just not in the mood at that time)

WayV reaction - you avoid intimacy out of insecurity after they rejected your skinship

warnings: WinWin's gets a tiny bit suggestive, alcohol consumption

▪️Kun

He looked so good when he cooked. You couldn’t stop your eyes from following the veins on his arms as he cut the various vegetables in the smallest of pieces. Your fingers ached to run across their length so you let them, stroking the little hairs in the opposite direction from their growth in the meantime.

“Y/n, not now”, he whines with a strictness in his voice that has you withering away from him.

You stayed quiet for the rest of the cooking, watching Kun in silence until he finally put the dish in the oven to cook. He walks over to your seat on the countertop, fitting himself between your legs. His hands find their place on each of your shoulders, making their way down to your elbows lovingly, yet you go rigid at the feeling and back away from his touch.

“Y/n, are you okay?”

“Do I annoy you sometimes?”

Kun’s eyebrows shoot up at your question, dropping his hands immediately to wrap them around your wrists instead.

“Never. What makes you think that?”

“You seemed pretty annoyed at me when you were cooking earlier”

His face stays frozen for a second, trying to figure out what exactly you were talking about. You’re taken aback when he starts to laugh light-heartedly, planting a kiss on your pouty lips.

“I didn’t tell you to stop because I didn’t like you touching me, baby. I needed you to stop because I liked it too much”

▪️Ten

You avoided his kisses like the plague. He wasn’t sure what had gotten into you, usually your nights visiting his dorm consisted of the both of you cuddling each other to death, napping in sheets that smelled of him and inviting the cats that snuggled between you. However now, the more he tried to approach you, the more you scooted away from him, and your excuses were starting to run out.

“Are you avoiding me or something?”

You shake your head negatively, avoiding eye contact so that he doesn’t see through you. But Ten is intuitive, especially when it comes to you, so he repeats the question again until he gets a sigh as an answer.

“You told me off pretty badly when I tried to kiss you an hour ago you know…”

“When I was drawing? You pushed my hand on accident and I missed like, half of my work!”

When he sees you continuing to be visibly upset at him, despite his light and teasing tone, he lifts your hand from your lap to his lips, kissing your wrist, then your palm, then your ring finger.

“I’m sorry if I said something I shouldn’t”, he leans over to peck your lips mid-sentence, and his voice is too soothing for you to resist him, “You know how much I love to kiss you.”

As if to prove his point he brings you closer again, and he smiles into the kiss when he feels you deepening it.

“I could taste your lips forever”

▪️WinWin

▪️WinWin

Your boyfriend was never big on skinship and you knew. You understood his paranoia of holding hands in public, even with sunglasses and a big mask covering half of his handsome face. Being a celebrity isn’t easy and you had come to terms with that, but you didn’t know he would react so coldly to you in this private party with his members being the only ones invited.

You were a little tipsy, holding on to Sicheng’s arm for stability, and admittedly you just wanted a little love from your boyfriend. Pulling his hair out of his eyes, you pucker your lips at him, waiting for a kiss that never came.

“What is up with you today? You’re all over me!”

The drive home was quiet, your whole body facing away from him, eyes staring outside the window or anywhere else but him. You weren’t angry, just sad if anything else, and Sicheng felt he had enough when you started to storm off to your shared bedroom without him. A hand on your wrist stops you abruptly.

“Why are you like this? You’ve been quiet ever since we left the party”

“Do you not find me attractive anymore?”

The filter between your brain and mouth had vanished from the alcohol, shocking Sicheng with your candor.

“What on earth makes you think that?”

“You never kiss me in front of your friends. It’s like you're embarrassed of being seen with me…”

Your boyfriend’s eyebrows furrow, almost meeting on the base of his forehead before he pushes you up against the entrance door. The kiss he initiates is full of passion and something animalistic that you’ve always thought looks good on him. It isn't long before the hands that you so desperately needed on your body before formed bruises on the skin over your hipbones.

“The reason why I don’t kiss you in public is because I won’t be able to stop, not when you always look so pretty. And then I will make you look needy and breathless and messy, just like you do right now. I don’t want anyone else to see you like this. You’re too damn beautiful. You’re mine.”

▪️Lucas

Skinship and Lucas were synonyms when it came to your relationship. He loved getting to touch you at all times, whether it was a big, suffocating hug or just his large hands on the small of your back. You were barely awake when your boyfriend came back to your apartment, his busy schedule with SuperM keeping his side of the bed colder than you’d like. He didn’t even bother to wash up, just took his clothes off and covered himself up with your shared duvet and his chest facing your own. Satisfied with his mere presence, you scoot over, and lay one arm over his waist, bringing yourself closer. It was a shock to you when he turned to the other side, unwrapping your arm in the process and letting it fall in the space between you.

You decided not to address the incident that left a sting to your heart the next morning, spending the whole day with Lucas since it was rare for him to be free of any schedules. It was absolutely lovely, from the movie you watched to the homemade food you prepared for the both of you. Until the sun set again.

“Are you going back to your dorm now?”, you ask him while doing the dishes, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

“Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know, maybe you prefer sleeping in your own bed. Alone.”

Your back is facing him but you can sense the pout forming on his handsome features. You feel his body heat as he comes closer to you and wraps his arms around you, only for you to squirm away from his hold and pat your hands dry, leaving the sink.

“What’s wrong?”, Lucas asks quietly, his eyes doubling in size.

“It’s just that last night when I tried to cuddle you to sleep you avoided me… It’s okay if you don’t want to crash here you know-”

“Babe, babe”, he starts, taking your hands in his, “I was dirty and sweaty last night. I didn’t have the energy to shower and I felt gross. I would never reject a night with you”

“Really?”

“Really. Now how about we go to bed and I give you those cuddles that I owe you?”

▪️Xiaojun

It was rare to see Xiaojun be so frustrated with anything. He’d been sitting on that same spot of the bed for hours now, guitar propped up on his lap and a blank sheet of paper in front of him. You tried to relieve his stress anyway you could, massaging his shoulders, kissing his cheek every time he sighed. And while your boyfriend accepted them at first, soon you saw him bend away from your acts of affection, so much so that you were worried about whether you have angered him.

An icky feeling weighed you down when he kept ignoring you as time went by, realizing that today was not the day you’d get the quality time you craved from your boyfriend. Quiet so as not to bother him, you start to collect your things and pack them back into your bag, the sound of the zipper finally catching Xiaojun’s attention.

“Where are you going?”

“You seem busy. I’ll come by another day”

“No no no!”, he exclaims, swiftly pulling his guitar aside, “I was looking forward to seeing you”

“Well you don’t seem to want any love from me right now. We can reschedule our date night for another time”

You didn’t expect him to jump up on his feet so quickly, neither to pull you into a hug as tight. His words come out muffled from your hair that is covering his mouth as he kisses it.

“Don’t leave, please. I’m sorry I was ignoring you”

“No, I’m sorry if I overstepped your personal space”

You soothe out the wrinkles that have formed between his pretty eyebrows with your thumb, taking a moment to appreciate his warm smile before he brings you into a long kiss.

“I’m stuck on this song that I’m writing. Maybe I just need inspiration”

▪️Hendery

“Why are you looking in the mirror so much?”

In the span of the last hour you managed to feel insecure over your hair, your skin, your choice of clothing. You thought you were being subtle when checking out yourself, the reflection only making you wanna shrink even more with every quick glance.

“Do you still find me as attractive as you did when we first met? Like do you ever get butterflies on your stomach anymore?”

“Why are you asking me this all of a sudden?”

You sigh, rubbing your face in embarrassment. Being content in yourself was a challenge on its own, even more so when your boyfriend looked like that.

“When we first started dating we were all over each other. I wouldn’t even make it past your bedroom door before you kissed me everywhere. Ten called us disgusting all the time.”

“And?”

“And now it’s been an hour since I came here and you haven’t even touched me...”

Hendery sighs, and runs his fingers through his hair defeatedly. With a soft hand motion he encourages you to come lie next to him on his bed, cupping your face before leaving a kiss on your lips.

“When we first started dating I couldn’t believe you were mine. I had this urgency in me like I had to taste as much of you as I could. Like you would slip away from my fingers, but-”

“But?”

Hendery takes your hand in his, and starts a trail of shiver-inducing kisses from your wrist up to your shoulder, so slow that you thought he’d never finish his sentence.

“But I realized that it wasn’t fair to you. I want to love you like we have a lifetime ahead, not like our time is running out. I want to love you like you deserve, and I want to take my time”

▪️Yangyang

He was playing that damn video game again. Yangyang always looked so cute when he was concentrating so heavily, lips pursed in a pout and eyes following the different players on the screen. Desperate to feel the softness of his hoodie and comfort on his embrace you come closer to him, attempting to sit on his lap.

“He’s behind you! Shoot! Shoot!” You jump up from your seat along with him, wrapping your hands around his neck to keep your balance. “Babe not now! You made me miss the screen!”

Hurt by his sharp tone and volume of his voice you start to get up, hating the burning feeling of the fresh tears that begged to escape the corners of your eyes.

Yangyang’s grip on your elbow stops you before you leave his lap, a worried look painted on his face.

“What’s wrong? Are you crying?”

“You know sometimes you get so into your games that you yell at me over nothing…”

His pretty face falls into a frown, whole body rigid and focused on your sad expression.

“Baby, come here”

Throwing one leg over his lap, Yangyang turns you around in his hold so that you’re facing him. His fingers pet your hair until you close your eyes in bliss, your breath slowing down until it matches his.

“You’re right. I’m so, so sorry if I said something that hurt you. Will you please stay here? You’re my lucky charm. My beautiful, lucky charm that fits right into my lap”

You smile at his sweet words, letting your head rest against his neck and enjoying the little backrubs he gave you until he felt you were fully relaxed. You easily fell asleep in his arms, your sweet dreams interrupted only from the kisses he left on your temples.

[catintheruemorgue]

annoying things they do

summary: small things these guys do that just grinds your gears a bit.

characters: oda, dazai, kunikida, twain, akutagawa, atsushi, mori, poe, ranpo, fittzgerald, steinbeck, chuuya, yosano, gin, kouyou, higuchi, alcott and lucy

these are all based off things i do or have inconvenienced my life lmfao i’ll probs do a part two with everyone i missed this just got wayyy to long lol next im posting being friends with double black 

Oda:

If you're wearing shorts and have bruises he will poke them when you're resting your legs on him. He’s silent about it too and if you yell at him he pretends to act like he doesn't know what you're talking about.

Will smack your sunburn but this one is actually an accident. He just wanted to pat you on the back because you're amazing.

Will space out when you talk too long, sometimes certain objects are just so… mesmerizing

Dazai:

Loves to jumpscare you the only exception is if it was a trigger. In that case he will just call your name and whip something at you for you to catch at random.

When you're driving he likes to reach over and honk your horn. It's almost caused so many roadside fistfights.

If he sees a dog in public he will bark and growl at it.

Kunikida:

Won’t let you on the bed without socks on. You could be sick as a dog and he’ll still enforce this rule.

Cleaning is hard because he has a hard time throwing things away. You'll spend extra time as he holds two identical pens, trying to decide which one he wants to keep. He’s learned to plan certain days in his schedule for cleaning now.

Won't let you turn up the music in the car and will keep it at a level that's so low it's annoying.

Twain:

Walks around the house shirtless but then complains about how cold it is.

Blasts his music so loud when he wakes up in the morning and it's always early 2000’s hits. It's not rare for you to have Pocketful of Sunshine by Natasha Bedingfield stuck in your head by 9 am.

Always has to climb something, this stems from his adventurous side. It's not really that annoying but when you’re in a crowded area and he runs off to go climb the tall statue, screaming at you to take a photo… Yes it is. Especially when children try and follow him and you're stuck receiving glares from the parents.

Akutagawa:

Will not let you throw any food products out. He tells you it's a perfectly good meal (even if it's not) and that he will eat it tomorrow. It’s sad because you know this stems from childhood but it’s still annoying.

Reuses the same gross, musty ziplock baggies. You keep buying new ones but he doesn't get it lol.  

Will tell you if your breath smells, hair is messy, outfit is ugly. He does not see an issue with this and it's nice knowing someone has your back but he doesn't have to be so rude about it..

Atsushi:

If he drinks he's one of those drinkers who will not let you take it from him. Keeps an iron grip on the cup. He finishes it no matter how drunk and always throws up. Thankfully he rarely drinks.

He stops to help everyone, literally even if they just look like they need help. You've been late to so many things.

Will eat anything. Once you made steak and somehow forgot about it. It was hard as a brick yet he still almost broke his teeth eating it. You think you saw some tears as he told you it was delicious.

Mori:

Listens to people's conversations in public and isn't afraid to comment, loudly, about it. You know it's loud because they either stop talking or try and confront you guys.

Comes up to stops fast and brakes so hard you feel like he does it on purpose.

Sometimes if he and Elise get into a “disagreement” he’ll try and rope you in to take his side and you always do, knowing it would probably give him more satisfaction if you chose to side with her.

Poe:

Asks for constructive criticism but will then argue with you about why you're wrong.

Always humming a song he heard Twain singing and then it gets stuck in your head too.

Will deny stupid things like why your favorite mug is in the trash or why he just let out rather loud scream in the bathroom. You know he's lying because he looks away and makes sure his bangs are covering his eyes.

Ranpo:

Will call you out on any lie even if you don't mean to lie you just forgot about some of the details.

Don't take him grocery shopping if you have a set amount you want to spend. He won't even sneak, he will just say he wants something and throw it in the cart.

Such a backseat driver even though he can't drive.

Fitzgerald:

Likes to act like he's still in his twenties and will somehow get the two of you invited to college parties where he will attempt to do a kegger in front of everyone. You end up being the one to hold him up and he always ends with a, “LETS FUCKING GO!”

Likes to ask for the senior discount even though he's not that old, he just likes to hear the women validate that he's not old.

It’s scary how he used to buy without looking and now will scream if the price on a price tag is too high.

Steinbeck:

Always looking at the grass for wheat to chew on. It's so cheesy when you walk into the city and he's got it sticking out of his mouth.

He gets weirdly intimate with nature and you feel like you're third wheeling.

Has the mentality that he has to provide for you because he is the man. He gets so shocked when he finds out you still want to work.

Chuuya:

Has a hard time making decisions you could ask him what he wants for dinner and his mind will just break.

Gets way too pissed at movies and will actually get up and walk away. Once you were kicked out of the theater because he wouldn't stop yelling at the screen. Another time he walked out you waited a whole ten minutes before you realized he wasn't coming back.

Sometimes activates his ability at night and it's so scary waking up to him floating halfway across the room.

WOMAN TIME!!!!!!!!!!

Yosano:

Will glare at you so intensely if you say something she disagrees with.

Always tries to rope you into drinking with her even if you’ve said no the past ten nights.

Will describe wounds or injuries in such detail and just won’t stop, almost like she’s trying to fuck with you, but she’s not.

Gin:

Claims to be nothing like her big brother but then will go on to make the same facial expressions and do some of the same mannerisms as him.

Will spend hours trying things on just to put it all back, leave the store and change her mind when you’re almost home. Then she’ll have you run back with her to buy it all.

Is used to sneaking around so scares you a lot. Also on the topic of being silent sometimes she just won’t respond, thinking you can just read her vibes / mind.

Kouyou:

Will judge what you eat, especially fast food but will try and steal a fry in private when you're not looking.

Will say things like, “Well that's just the way the world works.” If someone tries to share their baggage with her. You understand she’s had a pretty rough life but it's caused you to almost spit out your drink multiple times.

At functions forgets about you for about an hour while she mingles with everyone else, you could tap on her shoulder and she'll dismiss you like you're a subordinate. Until you clear your throat again you'll see the slight blush as she apologizes.

Higuchi:

She has no sense of privacy. If she hears a crash or loud noise she will bust down the door. It’s sweet but not when the noises are usually from you knocking all the shampoo bottles down again.

Horrible road rage actually puts you on edge to be in the car with her. She doesn't even have to be driving.

Likes to act like she's a professional at everything and people usually believe it because of her suit. It's so nerve wracking when she giggles when they walk away with false information.

Alcott:

Will agree to everything you suggest but you can only tell when she doesn’t want to do it when you’re currently doing it.

Yet she’s not afraid to grumble about how annoying it is when someone bumps into you and doesn’t apologize. It’s sweet but you’re left dealing with the situation if the person is aggressive enough to say something.

Always corrects your spelling or if you say something like “I could care less.”

Lucy:

Will fish for compliments in a very obvious way like, “Wow. Wish someone would call me pretty..” and then just stare right at you.

Kicks you so violently in her sleep but won't let go of you so you cant get away.

Constantly stealing from restaurants. You're banned from a couple restaurants because she got caught trying to steal a cup or salt shaker.

[witch-hazels-musings]

Harbinger Diluc - Match 4 - Knowledge

Synopsis: One day, the Harbinger meets someone who ignites something different in him – and all he knows is to keep what he wants close, that’s all that matters

Harbinger!Diluc x FM Reader | Anthology      

Match 1 - Introductions  |  Match 2 - New Normal  |  Match 3 - Trust

Warnings (will be specific to each chapter) - > being held by the wrist, touching (cheek, wrist)(reader collides with someone's back, reader slaps Tartaglia), flashbacks, feelings of longing) - special appearance: Tartaglia* | wc: 5,014

a-n: this is not canon Diluc* - his behaviors have been changed based on his character as a Harbinger - creative liberties have been taken - enjoy!

The sound of birds singing in the safety of the distant trees, from posts high enough to watch what unraveled below them pulled you from sleep. There was a warmth enveloping you, a strange sensation pulsating down your spine that invited you to turn onto your back and investigate. 

“Did I say you could …” The words died in your throat when you realized the bed was empty - was it just your imagination that concocted a vision of what you wanted? Embarrassing. The sheets were cool against your burning cheeks and muffled the groan that rumbled in your chest. “What in the world is wrong with you.” You fussed, pressing the fabric further against your face, shaking your head back and forth in an attempt to purge your mind of its imagination. 

Once properly adjusted, you flung the sheets away and began your morning routine without any interruption. Those charged with your care meant you never had to hold a conversation even in the best of moods but today, today you had questions you wanted an answer to. 

“Pardon me, do you know if Di- the Harbinger is around.” You asked the attendant as they set out your meager breakfast. A few slices of bread and an egg. The standard. 

“I’m unaware.” 

“Oh, well could you …" They turned their back and were beyond the tent entrance before you could utter another word. "Ah … never mind then.” With a heavy sigh, you watched a strand of your hair dance in the puff of air you created, eyes scanning the room as you decided on your next move. 

Memories began to slip in unwarranted until you become lost in them. 

He appeared from the back of the tent, hair still wet, unclasped with fresh clothes clinging to his arms and chest. You turned your head but found yourself glancing at him anyway - what else was there to look at in this dreary, empty, lifeless tent to begin with. The red strands of hair dribbled water in his wake. His bare, scared hands helped pile it all up into a low ponytail and you uncomfortably shifted in the chair. 

“Do you have to do that when I’m here?” You mumbled knowing there wasn’t any way of circumventing this type of thing in a place meant for one person. 

“This is my space. I didn’t think I needed your permission.” The tone of his voice, the arrogance of it was laced with indifference as he tightened the ribbon in his hair. 

“And I didn’t ask –” You nearly choked when he turned to face you. It was like he intentionally meant to throw you off guard or, maybe, he really was so utterly indifferent to you being here that showing his chest meant nothing to him. Drifting eyes fell onto his abs until they became hidden by the very slow progress he made with buttoning his shirt. 

“Are you having trouble breathing?” 

“What … no.” 

“Ah, well, your mouth is open.” Crossing his arms, he flashed what looked to be a smirk with raised eyebrows your way and the feeling of embarrassment, anger, denial spilled through the actions you gave in reply. 

“S-screw you …” It took you only a second to grab your items and dash into the only private space in the whole tent. You swore you could hear him laugh even through the muffled screams you made into your clothes. 

There were so many quick moments the two of you shared here that, looking back on them, you began to realize he never once acted like the ruthless, heartless, bloodthirsty monster you thought all Harbingers were … the Fatui were your enemy, they were the direct cause of everything bad in your life but every moment with this man was … different. 

The thoughts of the night before flooded your mind. The awkward way he approached you, how flustered he acted at the closeness the two of you shared. The feeling of his thumb against your lips, hot breath spreading over your face, hand against your cheek with a gentleness you’d never expect from someone like him. It made your chest flare up until the only way to put out the fire was to move. By the time you were done getting ready, the food on your plate had been left untouched.

The morning air filled your lungs, and the dew on the grass collected on the hem of your pant leg but you had one thing on your mind today. Now, where was that tent again?

Quickly, you made your way through the campsite and toward the place he might be. It was always filled with people so, normally, you didn’t dare get close to but today you were far braver. A flash of red caught your attention. With pep in your step, you made your way toward it. 

“What other intel have we gathered?” 

“None, other than what was given to us last night.” 

The voices just beyond the canvas were harsh, almost as if they were in a hurry. You weren’t sure what it was but something made you uneasy. Slowing your pace, you moved to perch yourself just beyond their line of sight but close enough to hear what was being said. 

“… He should be able to handle it.” 

“The arrogance, he should have waited until we got more information from the scouts.” 

“There wasn’t time for that!” One of the voices grew more agitated as the conversation continued. You were certain you’d heard that voice before, perhaps during another happenstance eavesdropping you did from inside the tent when you first arrived?

“Listen, Charles, you may be loyal to Diluc -” 

“Master Diluc.” He corrected, followed by the sound of something colliding with a table.

“Master Diluc, but our mission is to serve the Tsaritsa. If he fails to uphold his loyalty …” 

“That would never happen, he’s out there right now …!” 

“I’m aware, but do not question me when it comes to seeing this through to the end.” 

“Then it would serve you well to not question him either.” There was an uncomfortable, tense silence. It was apparent that Charles and whoever was in discussion with him was not on good terms. You tried to move just enough to catch a peek at their faces when another voice joined the mix, one you’d never heard before. 

“Now, now gentleman. Things will be resolved one way or another, let’s take a moment.” Their tone was calm, reassuring, and seemed quick to ease the energy in the tent. “We all have work to attend to, let’s not let it waiver due to unexpected circumstances.” 

“Yes sir.” A unanimous agreement spilled from the tent and you heard several boots shuffle through the grass. When they dissipated, you turned to leave when something caught you. 

“Now what do we have here?” Shooting up from your crouched position, you stumbled backward over one of the ropes but were saved by a strong, commanding grip. “How bold of you to spy on us.” 

“I wasn’t spying …” Your gaze traveled up the arm of the man who held you, grey clothes and a red scarf resting over the chest of a man you’d never seen before. His face gave the impression he was young, it seemed that was a common trend of the Fatui. So where did they steal this one from, you wondered. 

“Really now, then do tell me what it was you were doing?” His blue eyes were striking in the sun, and the small freckles that spread over the bridge of his nose looked almost painted on, but there was no faking the intimidation hidden in the sea of his irises.

“I was looking for Diluc.”

“Were you now? … Curious.”

“If he isn’t here, I’ll be on my way. Please let me go.” Your hand moved to push his from your arm, the grip he maintained was beginning to cause you discomfort but not near as much as the way he looked at you; why did all these Fatui have such ravenous eyes?

“Are you an initiate?”

“No …”

“An attendant?”

“No!” You tugged again but he held strong.

“What’s your name, Comrade?”

“What?”

“If you tell me your name, I’ll let you go.”

You hesitated, unsure if giving him your name was the best option but the way he held you, the way he watched your every move, his eyes never once leaving your face, you knew it was hopeless to deny him. “Y/N.” You whispered it but he heard it all the same.

“Y/N …” The sound of it on his tongue made you shiver as if you were suddenly surrounded by cold water. “I’ll be sure to let him know you’re looking for him.”

“Th-thanks.” He let you go and you took several steps to create distance. You wanted to run away, to turn on your heels and find the nearest place to hide but your curiosity and drilled-in politeness made you stay a moment longer. “What do I call –”

“Tartaglia, or, if you’d like, you can call me Childe.”

“Oh, okay. Thank you … Childe.” He nodded and gave you a smile you knew not to trust. Either way, he seemed willing to let you go. So, as quickly as you could, you turned to walk away but swore you could feel his eyes on you even when you were certain he couldn’t see you anymore.

–

Days went by and there wasn’t any word from Diluc. On the fifth day, you decided to bravely approach Charles - now that you’d seen his face - and asked him if there was anything new to share. The expression he gave you was one of the most honest ones you’d received in a long time but it certainly didn’t bring any comfort. 

“There hasn’t been any news.” He let his head lean in his hands as he gazed at the countless correspondence letters before him. You knew even if you pressed he’d be unable to share more than that. Somehow you knew he wasn’t lying to you. Not when the sigh that rumbled through his chest was the same one you’d had for days. Thanking him, you went on your way toward something, anything that would occupy your time. 

It was a first, you missing him like this. You weren’t sure what the root cause was but you knew the feeling in the pit of your stomach was telling you something wasn’t right. It was the same feeling you got when you were little and gathered up those strangely colored apples from the village orchard, it was the same feeling when watching your friend jump from stone to stone in the river, it was the same when fighting all those months ago in the scorched field - if you hadn’t listened then, the events to follow would have been catastrophic. So you had learned to trust this feeling as if your life depended on it. 

“Honing your skill on the apple I see.” A familiar voice pulled you from your thoughts. Squinting against the sun, you saw the color orange and blue in your vision. Swallowing, you did your best to hold steady as your gut began to whisper words of caution. 

“Huh?” 

“You’re doing a real number on that.” He pointed at the fruit in your hand and that’s when you noticed how close the blade had gotten to your palm. Beneath your feet was a pile of demolished apple bits you must have let fall as soon as they were cut from the fruit. 

“Oh …” 

“Something on your mind, Comrade?” 

Lobbing the apple as hard as you could over the wooden fence surrounding the camp, you wiped the knife off on your leg before sliding it back into the hidden holster of your boot. It took you weeks to sneak this small utility knife into your wardrobe but it was worth it, even if you got caught. 

“No-nothing.” It was still strange for anyone in the camp to talk to you, let alone notice you. Most of the time they kept to themselves and you preferred it that way, but that commonality wasn't apparent in him. This wasn’t the first time Childe came to check on you, and you were sure it wouldn’t be the last. 

“You ready for that spar then?” Ah, there it was.

“You ask me that every day -” 

“And I’ll keep asking until you say yes.” He crossed his arms and even with the sun shining brightly against his back, you could make out the devious grin he wore. 

“Fine, but I’m not - hey!” Childe didn’t wait for you to finish, his hand was already grabbing your wrist, a very common behavior of his: touchy. “Slow down!” You shouted but he was far too hyped up to hear anything at the moment. 

The Fatui foot soldiers caught sight of you being dragged toward the fighting ground. Some were already headed that way which made you wonder if they knew more about this person than you did. Scanning the campsite and doing your best to keep up pace with the ginger’s long strides, you noticed an operative dashing in through the front gates and heading straight toward the commander’s tent. 

“Hey, ho-hold on!” The heels of your boot dug into the ground, your hand moved to pry his away but instead of stumbling from his grip, you collided with his back instead. 

“So forward.” Childe’s voice was muffled but you sensed him looking at you. Even if he was shouting, you wouldn’t have heard him because every bit of your attention was on the operative waving their hands and pointing toward the front gate … was that … blood on their … 

A hand gripped your chin forcing you to look away and when you saw the face of its owner the frustration in your chest exploded through your hands. “Leave me alone!” 

There was a heavy silence that fell over this area of the camp. Interested onlookers shifted to hushed whispers, the wind blew across the field and rattled the dangling artifacts hanging from the tents, causing the canvas to flutter. You scowled at the man who held your chin and breathed out the irritation in your lungs. 

The force of your attack wasn't enough to loosen the grip he had on your chin. “Well, that’s a very appealing expression.” 

“I don’t have time for this today, I have to … I have other things.” Slapping his hand away you glanced back at the commander’s tent but the operative was gone. Where did they go? In an effort to see better, you gathered your hair over your shoulder, fingers clenching the strands to hold them in place, and started to scan the area again.  

“What other things would a Harbingers plaything have to do than entertain them?” His comment settled in your stomach, the sudden sensation of him to you set off your screaming gut but it was the feeling of his thumb and fingers against your neck that made you shiver uncomfortably the most. 

“What did you …” 

“Every Harbinger has their own vice; war, revenge, power, lust …” When you didn't respond he offered more, "Mine, for instance, is power. I don't mind acting on it, in fact, it's quite a thrill. But I never thought he would act on his." 

“He’s not like that.” 

Tartaglia laughed, his hand wrapping further around your neck as he stepped toward you, “He’s exactly like that.” Tartaglia seemed to tower over you even as he leaned toward your ear. In bravery or stupidity, you stood your ground. “Where did you come from, little fox? Did you follow him here or did he take you?” The question shot through your chest like an arrow. The lack of response and the quiver of your eyes told him the answer even if your heart couldn’t bear to speak it. “Ah, so typical of him.” 

“Stop.” 

“I’m curious. How far has he gone? I bet you've shared a bed with him but is that it? A pretty thing like you, I’m sure it’s addicting -“ Every inch of your body was electrified. Your hands tingled, lungs burned as you heaved through partially parted lips and gazed furiously at the face of the man you just slapped. When he looked down at you, thumb pressing against the corner of his lip and hand palming his raw cheek, there was an energy in his eyes as if he got off on this.

“I see. So you’re in love with him.” His words hung in the air for so long that you were sure they would turn to stone and fall before your feet if you didn’t refute them outright. 

“I don’t lo-”

“Master Tartaglia!” His attention turned at the sound of his name but yours lingered on his face, still feeling the shock of his statement through every bone in your body. “There’s been news about Master Diluc, you’re needed.”

The sound of the Harbinger's name captured all your attention. The action didn’t go unnoticed by the ginger. “Let us be on our way then.” He glanced at you but you barely registered anything until a hand found your shoulder and pushed you in the opposite direction of the information you desperately wanted to hear. “You, take her back to her tent. Don’t let her out until I say so.”

“What! Hey, let me … T-Tartaglia!” You were already being dragged in the opposite direction when the last thing you saw was a smirk on his face before he turned his back on you.

When you finally were ‘escorted’ back to your tent, it felt like the first day all over again. The confusion, the anxiety, it all compiled in your chest until it felt like you were suffocating.

“I’ll bring you something to eat, there are guards just outside so don’t get any funny ideas.” The attendant turned but you kept them still with your shaking hands.

“Wait, you have to tell me what’s going on.”

“I don’t have to tell you anything. Now, let me go this instant.” Multiple smacks on your arms didn’t deter you from holding steady. If they wouldn’t give you what you wanted, maybe you would be satisfied with another.

“Fine, then who is Tartaglia? Why did they call him here?”

The pressure of their nails eased up, and the shock on their face seeped into their eyes as they told you the one thing you didn’t want to hear. “He’s a Harbinger.” Your hands loosened just enough for them to slip free and while they shoved the tent entrance out of their way, you collapsed onto the floor and wished you’d never asked the question in the first place.

Replaying the events in your head, you scolded yourself for the stupidity of your actions. It all made sense now, everything that you’d seen him do. It was so obvious. It wasn’t like they pinned a piece of parchment to their clothes saying who or what they were, but it should have clicked with you sooner.

Every Harbinger has a vice … you recalled him telling you. Did Diluc have one too? You learned in one sentence just how little you knew about the man who took you from your home. 

So you’re in love with him …  Hiding in your hands, you shook until the word didn’t hold any more meaning. Love? Love! There was no way. You hated him … couldn’t stand how overbearing he was, how controlling he was. 

The irritating way he asked you if you had enough to eat, if you liked what was prepared, to let him know if there was something you’d prefer. You hated how observant he was. If there was something you gave even a hint of displeasure at, he’d send someone in to adjust it. Of course, he never did let you alleviate the biggest discomfort of them all - being trapped in this camp - but as you thought back on your days here, you couldn’t help but recognize all he did to make you feel comfortable. 

How he gave you space, never asking for much. 

How he tended to you in the smallest of ways. 

When he was here and you’d wake up from a nightmare … 

“Bad dream?” Diluc’s voice cut through the darkness. As your eyes adjusted to the shadows, you saw him sitting at the table covered in scribbled parchment. He glanced at you but mostly kept to his work. You found it hard to ignore the fact that his long, black robe was undone, giving view of his skin each time he shifted or grabbed a new document from the pile. 

“I’m fine.” You replied, now wishing you had complained a little bit more about the nightgown he provided for you. Even though this one had real sleeves, you still felt exposed to him even when he wasn’t looking at you. 

“Alright, try to sleep. I’ll be here if you need anything.” He pushed his long red hair out of his face and you leaned back on the bed but kept your eyes fixated on him. If he wasn’t a Harbinger, if he wasn’t your enemy perhaps things could be different but as the distrust rested in your heart, you found the only way you could sleep was to watch him and listen to the sound of his pen moving across the page. 

Or those mornings when you woke up and found him at your side ...

There was an intense heat at your back, even when you moved away from it it was like your entire spine was on fire. Reluctantly, you turned to see what it was only to find a pile of unkempt red hair directly in your face. It made your heart stop, caused you to freeze as the sudden realization and overwhelming scent of him filled you completely. 

Carefully, you moved away but as you did, you were able to see more of his sleeping form. The relaxed expression on his face, slightly parted lips, and long lashes were hidden under the fiery shade of his hair. Hands resting peacefully on the sheets he’s pushed down his body, unintentionally exposing his chest. It was starting to get annoying the number of times you’d seen him without his shirt on but even more annoying that your eyes wouldn’t stop looking at him. 

In this position, he seemed far more innocent than you’d ever consider him to be. 

The quiet of the morning allowed you to hear his breath, gave you time to take in the beating of your heart as you scanned the muscles of his arm and wondered about the scars that covered it. Instinctually you lifted your hand to trail across one in particular. It stretched over his bicep, your finger followed the path of it making him stir at the contact. Embarrassed, anxious, you yanked your hand back and turned your head into the pillow. 

The sound of his deep, just-waking-up sigh made your heart flutter. The creaking of the bed gave you a smidgen of relief knowing he’d be gone soon but when you felt his fingers against your cheek, the way they traveled to your ear and gently pushed your hair from your face, you swore your heart was going to explode. It wasn’t until the sound of splashing water from the back room filled your ears that you’re ‘still sleeping form’ stifled a scream. 

The memories started to flood in. Each moment, each gesture, every reserved closeness the two of you shared was like a display of his intentions. He wasn’t anything like Tartaglia, he wasn’t anything like anyone … he was Diluc. Behind the title he wore there was a man hidden with values contradictory to everything you knew about the Fatui. 

So, as your mind began to settle on the understanding your heart knew long ago, you lifted your head at the sound of voices coming from beyond the tent and focused. 

“Ah, sir, I’m sorry but I’ve been instructed to not let anyone inside.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Master Tartaglia …” 

“I don’t work for Master Tartaglia now let me through.” 

“I can’t do that sir.” There was irritation in both of their voices but you were sure the other was someone you could trust, and you were certain they held information you desperately wanted to hear. 

“Fine, I’m sure you’d be the last to know so if you haven’t heard, reports from the domain Master Diluc was sent to investigate, somewhere beyond Brightcrow Mountains, have been cut off. We can’t get in contact with them. Master Tartaglia will be heading up an investigation and I fear he will take drastic measures to get the answers the Tsaritsa wants.” 

“… okay? I’m just supposed to gua-” 

“Yes, you’re right … please see to it that she is comfortable. Most of the units will be busy preparing so this is a delicate time until they head out.” 

Thank you, Charles. 

The two of them wrapped up their conversation but you were already preparing. Quickly, you changed your clothes to something darker, and harder to see, and found a bag that held items you never once cared about. Dumping them on the ground, you set off to refill it. A change of clothes, several items that might be useful as make-shift tools. There was a ribbon he left on the table which you used to tie back your hair. Now it would keep it free from your face so you could see everything you needed to. 

The sound of soldiers moving outside told you things were going to be hectic but you didn’t care; there was only one thing on your mind, there was only one thing ever on your mind anymore. 

Patiently you waited, hand hovering over the canvas, knife prepped and ready to slice your way free. You knew it would be hours until they checked on you again, habits built up from your time locked in here meant you knew everything and had all the necessary knowledge to make your escape. From the routes of the guards to the sections of the camp that would be less occupied at this time of day, you’d been practicing, waiting, preparing for this moment since the very beginning and now you were going to enact your plan. 

Now. 

The knife cut smoothly along the canvas tent. When it was just long enough for you to squeeze through, you made sure the coast was clear before slipping into the dwindling sunlight. Like a sparrow swooping through the air, you dashed from shadow to shadow until you eventually made it to the edge of the camp. This was your second hurdle.

The last time you had to climb something like this was when you were young and one of the village kids tossed a stolen doll onto a roof. Just like then, you analyzed the obstacle with careful eyes before detecting the best path. It was only slightly more challenging considering there was barely enough room for your fingers to slip in between this post and the next, but even if they screamed at the pressure and roughness of the wood, what lay just beyond was enough to keep your center.

The ground came much quicker than you anticipated, the heavy drop into the grass made you tumble forward. There was no time to catch yourself. Instead, you bolted as fast as you could toward the tree line and didn’t stop until you were deep in the thick of it.

The smell of fresh air, thick, lush evergreens, and spruce trees sent out wave after wave of clarifying scent and soon the warmth of your legs began to fill your body even after you slowed to a steady trot. The bag on your back was comforting, the energized oxygen in your lungs made you feel alive but it was the freedom of being beyond those walls that made you lift your hands to the chattering birds and sun-speckled treetops.

“I missed you.” You whispered, smiling at the feeling of being untethered. The sound of a hawk echoed in the thicket and, with a knowing nod, you looked for the best candidate to gather your bearings.

Climbing the tree made you feel at home. The skill of jumping, launching, and slinking around each branch felt so familiar to you that there was no way you’d ever forget this connection. When you finally reached the top, or at least high enough to see the surrounding area, you took a moment before gathering your Intel. Off in the distance, you saw the peak of Dragonspine, the City of Freedom perched on its rock in the middle of the lake, Stormterrors lair, and in between, the mountains of Brightcrow. You were about to climb back down when your heart called to you.

Past the snowy mountains, beyond the grand lake were some of the landmarks of the wonderful land of Liyue. How many times had you climbed its mountains and landscapes, how often had you run through the fields and streams? It was your home, your real home and it called your name so powerfully it nearly drowned everything out.

The sound of laughing children, the rejuvenating beat of countless feet dashing through the woods bounding from tree to tree, stone to stone, one adventure to the next. Helping hands and smiling faces, a trade for hard work. It all was so tempting and heart-shattering at the same time. It was right there, home was closer than you thought possible. The battle taking place in your heart begged you to submit. You were conflicted. Rubbing the water from your eyes, you pulled your hand away only to see through the starlight in the darkness, the campsite nestled in the open field.

– 

The tree supported you until your feet hit the ground. The leaves you disturbed in your climb fell around you like decisions you had to make before they would point you in the right direction. Closing your eyes, you let out a sigh before feeling the ground give way to your feet. While the leaves seemed to speak in one voice as they drifted toward your home, your legs carried you toward the unshakable red that spoke in another.

Match 5

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Ted Lasso 2x11 thoughts

For an episode that ends with a journalist Ted trusts but has (understandably) recently lied to warning Ted that he’s publishing an article about his panic attacks, it was fitting that this episode seemed entirely about what all of these characters choose to tell each other. And after most of a season of television that Jason Sudeikis has described as the season in which the characters go into their little caves to deal with things on their own, it turns out they are finally able to tell each other quite a lot.

Which is good because, um, wow, a lot is going to happen in the season finale of this show!

Thoughts on the things people tell each other behind the cut!

Roy and Keeley. I absolutely loved the moment during their photoshoot in which they bring up a lot of complicated emotional things and are clearly gutted (“gutted”? Who am I? A GBBO contestant who forgot to turn the oven on?) by what they’ve heard. We already know that Keeley and Roy are great at the kinds of moments they have before the shoot begins, in which Roy builds Keeley up and tells her she’s fucking amazing. From nearly the beginning of their relationship, they’ve supported each other and been each other’s biggest fans. But their relationship has gone on long enough that they’ve progressed from tentative arguments about space and individual needs into really needing to figure out what they mean to each other and how big their feelings are and what that means in relation to everything else. Watching these two confess about the uncomfortable kiss with Nate, the unexpectedly long conversation with Phoebe’s teacher, and—most painfully—the revelation that Jamie still loves Keeley didn’t feel like watching two people who are about to break up. (Although I could see them potentially needing space from each other to get clarity.) It felt like watching two people realize just how much they’d lose if they lost each other, which is an understandably scary feeling even—or especially—when you’re deeply in love but not entirely sure what the future holds. Not entirely sure what you’re capable of when you’ve never felt serious about someone in quite this way, and are realizing you have to take intentional actions to choose that relationship every single day. I’m excited to learn whether Roy and Keeley decide they need to solidify their relationship more (not necessarily an engagement, but maybe moving in together or making sure they’re both comfortable referring to the other as partner and telling people they’re in a committed relationship) or if things go in a different direction for a while.

Sharon and Ted. I’ve had this feeling of “Wow, Ted is going to feel so intense about how honest he’s been with Sharon and is going to end up getting really attached and transfer a lot of emotions onto the connection they have and that is stressful no matter how beneficial it has been for him to finally get therapy!” for a while now. And Sharon’s departure really brought that out and it was indeed stressful. But the amount of growth that’s happened for both of these characters is really stunningly and beautifully conveyed in this episode. Ted is genuinely angry she left without saying goodbye, and he doesn’t bury it some place deep inside him where it will fester for the next thirty years. He expresses his anger. (I also noticed he sweared—mildly—in front of her again, which is really a big tell for how much he has let his carefully-constructed persona relax around her.) He reads her letter even though he said he wasn’t going to, and he’s moved. I don’t think Ted has the words for his connection to Sharon beyond “we had a breakthrough,” but Sharon gets it, and is able to firmly assert a professional boundary by articulating her side of that breakthrough as an experience that has made her a better therapist. And is still able to offer Ted a different kind of closure by suggesting they go out before her train leaves. No matter how you feel about a patient/football manager seeing their therapist/team psychologist colleague socially, I appreciated this story because IMO it didn’t cross big lines but instead was about one final moment in this arc in which both Ted and Sharon saw each other clearly and modeled what it is to give someone what they need and to expect honesty and communication from them. I liked that Ted ends up being the one saying goodbye. (The mustache in the exclamation points!) I like that whether or not Sharon returns in any capacity (Sarah Niles is so wonderful that I hope she does, but I’m not sure), the goodbye these characters forge for themselves here is neither abandonment nor a new, more complicated invitation. It’s the end of a meaningful era, and although the work of healing is the work of a lifetime, it’s very beautiful to have this milestone.

Ted and Rebecca. So, maybe it’s just me, but it kinda feels like these two have a few li’l life things to catch up on?! (HAHHHHHaSdafgsdasdf!) I really adored their interactions in this episode. I maintain that Biscuits With The Boss has been happening this whole time (even when Ted’s apartment was in shambles, there’s biscuit evidence, and I feel like we’ve been seeing the biscuit boxes in Rebecca’s office pretty regularly too), even if it might have been more of a drive-by biscuit drop-off/feelings avoidance ritual. It was really lovely to see Ted on more even footing in Rebecca’s office, joking around until she tells him to shut up, just like the old days. And GOSH—for their 1x9 interaction in Ted’s office to be paralleled in this episode and for Ted to explicitly make note of the parallel in a way Rebecca hears and sees and understands?! MY HEART. In both of Rebecca’s confessions, she is not bringing good news but it is good and meaningful that she chooses to share with Ted. In both situations, Ted takes the moment in stride and offers acceptance equivalent to the gravity of what she has to confess. And in both situations, he’s not some kind of otherworldly saint, able to accept Rebecca no matter what because he’s unaffected by what she shares. He is affected. When he tells her about Sam, you can see a variety of emotions on his face. Rebecca is upset and Ted is calm, and even if I might have liked for him to try to talk about the risk the affair poses to the power dynamics on the team or any number of factors, I also really liked that he just accepts where she is, and—most importantly—does not offer her advice beyond examining herself and taking her own advice. A massive part of being in a relationship with another person (a close relationship of any nature) is figuring out how to support that person without necessarily having to be happy about every single thing they do. It’s so important that Ted connects what she’s just told him about Sam back to what she told him last season about her plot with the club. These both feel like truth bombs to him, and he is at least safe enough to make that clear. These are both things that impact him, things that shape how he sees her and maybe even how he sees himself. He cares about her and is capable of taking in this information; he has room for it. But it’s not something he takes lightly, and neither does she. See you next year.

Tumblr user chainofclovers and the TV show Ted Lasso. My brain is going wild thinking about all the ways the next “truth bomb” conversation could go in 3x11 or whatever. Maybe they go full consistent parallel and Rebecca confesses something else, this time about her and Ted or some other big future thing that impacts him as much or more as the other confessions have. (The same but different.) Maybe the tables turn and Ted has something to confess to her. While the 1x9 conversation ended in an embrace and the 2x11 conversation ended with a bit more physical distance (understandable given the current state of their relationship and the nature of the discussion), the verbal ending of both conversations involved voices moving into a sexier lower register while zooming in to talk specifically about their connection to each other, so I have to assume there will be some consistencies in s3 even if the circumstances will be completely different. I don’t really know where I’m going with this and I obviously will go insane if I sustain this level of anticipatory energy until Fall 2022 but I have a feeling my brain and heart are going to try!

Sam and Rebecca. I know there’s been a lot of criticism about whether this show is being at all realistic about the power dynamics and inevitable professional issues this relationship would create. On some level, I agree; I like that pretty much everyone who knows about the affair has been kind so far, but you can be kind and still ask someone to contend with reality. But I also think that in nearly every plot point on this show, the narrative is driven by how people feel about their circumstances first and foremost. (It’s why the whiteboard in the coaching office and the football commentators tell us more about how the actual football season is going from a points perspective than anyone else.) This episode reminded me how few people know about Sam and Rebecca, and how much their time together so far has been time spent in bed. The private sphere. I thought this episode really expertly brought the public sphere into it, not—thank goodness—through a humiliating exposure or harsh judgment but through an opportunity for Sam that illustrates not only all his potential to do great things but how much Rebecca’s professional position and personal feelings are in conflict with that. Could stand in the way of that. I don’t have a strong gut feeling about where this will go, but I do think Sam’s face in his final scene of this episode is telling. He started the episode wanting to see Rebecca (his most recent text to her was about wanting to connect), and Edwin’s arrival from Ghana really exploded his sense of what is possible for his life. If he’d arrived home to Rebecca sitting on his stoop prior to meeting Edwin, he’d have been delighted. Now he’s conflicted, and whatever decision he makes, he has to reckon with the reality that he cannot have everything he wants. No matter what. And Rebecca—she has taken Ted’s advice and is attempting to be honest about the fact that she can’t control Sam’s decisions but hopes he doesn’t go, and even saying that much feels so inappropriate. And I’m not sure how much she realizes about the inappropriateness of the position she’s putting him in, although maybe she’s getting there considering she exits the scene very quickly. I’ve honestly loved Rebecca’s arc this season. I think it’s realistic that she got obsessed with the intimacy she thought she could find in her phone. I think it’s realistic that her professional and personal ambitions are inappropriately linked. (They certainly were for Rupert. It’s been years since she’s known anything different; even if she’s done some significant recovery work to move on from her abusive marriage and figure out her own priorities, she’s got a long way to go.) I know there are people who will read this interaction between Rebecca and Sam as a totally un-self-aware thing on the part of “the show” or “the writers” but what I saw is two people who enjoyed being in bed together and now have to deal with the reality that they’re in two different places in their lives and that one has great professional power over the other. If that wasn’t in the show, I wouldn’t be able to see it or feel so strongly about it.

Edwin and Sam. I really enjoyed all the complexities of this interaction. Edwin is promising a future for Sam that doesn’t quite exist yet, though he has the financial means to make it happen. He offers this by constructing for Sam a Nigerian—and Ghanaian—experience unlike anything he’s found in London. Sam is amazed that this experience is here, and Edwin’s response is to explain to him that the experience is not here. Not really. The experience in Africa. Sam has of course connected to the other Nigerian players on the team, but this is something else entirely. I’m really curious if Sam is going to end up feeling that what Edwin has to offer is real or not. That sense of home and connection? So real. And so right that he would want to experience that homecoming and would want to be part of building that experience for others. But at the end of the day, he went to a museum full of actors and a pop-up restaurant full of “friends,” and is that constructed authenticity as a stand-in for a real homecoming more or less real than the home he’s building in Richmond? (With other players who stand in solidarity with him, and with well-meaning white coaches who say dumb stuff sometimes, and an a probably-doomed love interest, and a feeling that he should put chicken instead of goat in the jollof, and the ability to stand out as an incredible player on a rising team.)

Nate and everyone. But also Nate and no one. Nate’s story is so painful and I’m so anxious for next week’s episode. For a long time I’ve felt that a lot of Nate’s loyalties are with Richmond, and a lot of his ambitions are around having given so much to this place without getting a lot back, and having a strong feeling that he’s the answer to Richmond’s future. But now I’m not so sure; his ambitions have transferred into asking everyone he knows (except Ted, of course), if they want to be “the boss.” But Nate is all tactics and no communication. When he wants to suggest a new play to Ted, he hasn’t yet learned to read Ted’s language to learn that Ted is eager to hear what he has to say. And while Ted has been really unfortunately distracted about Nate and dismissive of him this season, he clearly respects Nate’s approach to football and was appreciative of the play. Nate just can’t hear that. The suit is such a great metaphor of all the things Nate is in too much pain to be able to hear clearly. Everyone digs at him for wearing the suit Ted bought him (including Will, who’s got to get little cuts in where he can, because he’s got to be sick of the way Nate treats him), but when he gets fed up his solution isn’t to go out on his own and find more clothes he likes; he asks Keeley to help him. And then crosses a major line with her...and no matter how kind she was about it, she was clearly not okay. Everything is going to blow up, and I’m so curious as to whether Nate will end up aligning himself with Rupert in some way or if he’s going to end up screwed over by Rupert and in turn try to screw over his colleagues even worse than he’s already done. Or try desperately to make amends even though it could be too late for some. Either way, I’m fully prepared to feel devastated. (And there’s no way I’m giving up on this character. If he’s able to learn, I truly believe he could end up seeking forgiveness and forging a happier existence for himself. Someday. Like in season 3 or something.)

Ted and Trent. Trent deciding to reveal his source to Ted is a huge deal, and I’m torn between so many emotions about this exposé. I’m glad it’s a Trent Crimm piece and not an Ernie Loundes piece. I’m glad that Trent made the decision to warn Ted and let him know that Nate is his source. I fear—but also hope—that this exposure will set off a chain reaction of Ted learning about some of the things he’s missed while suffering through a really bad bout with his dad-grief and panic disorder. The things Ted doesn’t know would devastate him. I wonder if Ted will want to figure out a way to make Nate feel heard and reconcile with him, and I wonder how that will be complicated if/when he realizes Nate has severely bullied Will, gets more details on how he mistreated Colin, etc. I wonder if Rebecca, whom Nate called a “shrew” right before she announced his promotion, will be in the position of having to ask Ted to fire him, or overriding Ted and doing it herself. So many questions! I have a feeling it’ll go in some wild yet very human-scaled, emotionally-nuanced direction, and I’ll be like “Oh my GOD!” but also like “Oh, of course.”

This VERY SERIOUS AND EMOTIONAL REVIEW has a major flaw, which is that none of the above conversations include mention of the absolute love letter to N*SYNC. Ted passionately explains how things should go while dancing ridiculously! Will turns on the music and starts gyrating! Roy nods supportively! Beard shouts the choreography like the Broadway choreographer of teaching grown men who play football how to dance like a boy band. Everyone is so incredibly proud when they nail it. I love them.

I cannot believe next week is the end. For now. I’m kind of looking forward to letting everything settle during the hiatus, but I’ve really loved the ride.

[clementinesjourney]

Record Shop Funk - Pt. 1 Like real people do

A.N. : Hey guys, so i had this idea yesterday, and i really hope you'll like it. <3

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Words: 1,9k

Pairing: camboy!Steve x Reader, roommate!Bucky x reader, Stucky x reader (as the story goes)

Warnings: nothing yet :)

Summary: Who knew that having a secret crush, then a hearbreak will end in such a sweet thing..

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You and Bucky shared an apartment above the recordshop you both worked in. Your aunt was the owner of both, so it was a fairly good payment, and a fairly good apartment for a cheap price. It was a bright and big apartment with two bedrooms, so your decided to rent it out, all while searching for a helper to the shop downstairs. When Bucky came in applying for the job, you asked out of joke if he needs a place to live since you had seen around 5 people already and none of them felt right. His eyes lit up as he said he is in fact looking for a place. Since he was fitting for a job, and looked like a decent guy, you congratulated him on his new job, and asked if he wants to see the place today. You still had one and a half hour to close, but after it you would gladly show him the apartment.

He had nothing better to do, so he agreed to it, feeling happy about having a job he might actually like and a coworker he might actually will get along with.

-Do you drink coffee? I was thinking of getting one in the meantime. My friend works close by, and they make the best coffee in town. - He asked.

-I could go for one thank you - you smiled at him - iced cold-brew, no sugar, i'm sweet enough.. - you said with a smile.

He couldn't help but smile back at the joke. When he arrived at the café, he saw his friend Steve flirting with a girl whom he could visibly see trembling just cause he talked to her. Steve always had his way with girls, ever since the serum of course. After he broke up with Peggy, it was mostly just hookups, never finding a girl worth keeping around. Not as if they werent kind, pretty or good to him, it just never felt right. Bucky smiled at his friend, Steve immediately shifted his gaze from the girl, to a very happy Bucky.

-Did you get the job?

-Better.. I got the job, and she has a room for rent which i'll see tonight.

-Wow Bucky, i didn't know you were even better then i am.. sooo how does she look? - asked Steve with a slight wiggle of his eyebrows. He wanted Bucky to get a girl since ages and hearing this, his mind immediately ventured there.

-5'7, ginger, green eyes, freckles, curvy just the right places. why?

-Nothing Buck.. nothing.. - Steve said smirking at his friend.. Bucky never realized when he liked a girl, so he never really acted on it. He last had a woman back in the 40's.

-Sooo i know you didn't come to have chat with me, one black coffee and.. ?

-ah, iced cold-brew, no sugar..

After paying for the coffee, he hurried back to the shop, hoping to get to know his coworker a little bit better.

You thanked him for the coffee, and when you tried to pay, he refused.

-Next round's mine then. - You smiled at him with your 1000 watt smile, which again he couldn't help but smile back at.

-So tell me about you Bucky, what do you do in your freetime?

-Nothing really, just reading, spending time with my friends, kind of thats it.. I have a boring life really. What about you?

-Well, i work here, then i go home and listen to music, cook, god i love to cook, thats a big pro for the apartment.. just saying. - you said with a playful wink. - besides that nothing much. Sometimes i go to a nearby bar with my friends maybe concerts and thats it.

-I like washing dishes if that helps with the application for the room. - he said with a shy laugh which made your heart skip a beat.

- It sure does.. Do you leave your stuff around?

-No i'm a tidy person.. thank you very much. - he said cockily (just for the sake of being funny really).

-Okay okay, if you like it you can have the room, just promise to tell if you bring up a girl so i can leave. The walls are kind of thin.

-It's okay, i don't really...

-Oh um i'm sorry, i didn't meant to intrude, it just something i would really like everyone to add to their rental contracts. - you chuckled embarassed.

-Noo no, it's okay, i'm not embarassed by it. I guess i don't want hook ups, if one day there's someone i'll tell in advance.

-yea me too, i promise. If you end up renting it anyway haha. on that note it's time to close so i can show the room in a min.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

When you opened the door to the apartment Buckyquietly took in it all. It was really bright, white walls with paintings all over the walls, plants in every corner or shelf you can put one on, a comfy looking mustard couch, aztec-y rug under the coffeetable, and a wall fully shelved, filled with books and little trinkets, it looked like a home he never had a chance to have. The livingroom had an american kitchen on the side, island in the middle of the kitchen area, it was white, and blue which reminded him of greece, down the hallway you showed him the bathroom which of course had a lot of plants that liked the atmosphere of a bathroom, a shower in the corner and a bathtub under the window. You then showed the empty room he could rent out. It only had a shelf and a wardrobe, and a queen sized bed. No decorations, no signs of anybody ever living there. You then pointed to the room the opposit of what could possibly be Bucky's in the future, saying that is yours. You didn't show your room, he wasn't gonna go in there anyway, and showing your most private space on the first day didn't seem like a good idea either. You then invited him out to the balcony, watching the setting sun, smoking a cigarette.

-So thats about it, what do you think?

-I really like it, and i mean.. my workplace is pretty close so thats a plus, also you said something about cooking all the time.. sooo if it's alright with you i would love to rent it out.

-It's settled then roomie. I'll give you the keys, you can move in whenever you want to. Tomorrow we are closed, so maybe that would be ideal.

-Yea, then tomorrow it is then. I'll ask my friend to help, then we can maybe hang a bit if you're free.

-Sure, i have nothing planned, and it's good to know who i'll be living with. - you said with a smile.

Before closing the door, you said your goodbyes, and you realized what did you just do, after he wished you good night with a killer halfsmile that almost had your knees buckle. You just agreed to living together with possibly the most handsome man you've ever seen who is also your new coworker, so you will basically spend most of your time with him.. Guess we'll see how this goes you thought to yourself.

Morning came soon enough, you were sitting out on the balcony when you saw Bucky arrive with a very tall, just as handsome man, carrying boxes of books, and bags of clothing. Bucky looked up at the balcony, waving towards you, you waved back, then moved to open the front door before going back out to the balcony, resuming your coffee and smoke.

When they finished bringing all Bucky's stuff in, it was already midday, so you decided you'd order pizza for all of you, as in like a welcome present.

-Hey guys, i'm thinking of ordering pizza, what kind would you like?

-Oh (y/n) you don't have to. - said Bucky, earning a smirk from Steve as he looked back and forth between you two.

- Noo i insist, today won't be the day i'll start to slowly kill you with my cooking. - you said giggling a bit.

- Whatever's fine peach. - said Steve with a wink, that you decided was just out of friendlyness. You didn't veen knew his name, and he seemed like a lady's man anyways. Not really your type no matter how handsome and muscular he is.

- Steve, by the way, nice to meet you.

-(Y/n), likewise. - you shook his hand.

When the pizzas arrived you called them to the kitchen, listening to all their shared stories from their early years. They seemed like really close friends, and genuinely good people. You had a really great time. It was nearly 9 pm when Steve left, for saving a dame from dying cause of boredom he said. You and Bucky chuckled, then he let him out, closing the door, locking it for the night.

-I guess i have some packing to do, so.. good night (y/n).

-Good night Bucky, if you need anything just knock. - you said with a smile, and he couldn't help but smile back. He felt at peace. He had Steve, now he had a job, and a room to make a home of, and you as a new addition. You were so kind, so eager to help if he needed anything, he loved how the scent of raspberries and flowers lingered in the apartment mixed with coffee and cigarette smoke. It seemed to have a calming effect on him.

You heard a soft knock half an hour later. WHen you opened the door you saw a smiling Bucky, awkwardly scratching the back of his head.

- Hey, um.. sorry. I forgot i didn't bring a blanket, could i borrow one until i get my own?

-Yea sure, i'll get one in a min. - You said, leaving the door open, letting him see a bit of "you" while you were searching for your spare blanket in your wardrobe. The room really was you. White, with mustardy curtains on the window, plants everywhere, books piled up here and there, a really comfy looking bed, pictures of you and your friends on the walls. And damn, your room smelled even more like you. If he wouldn't pay attention your scent would lure him into your room and never let him leave he thought.

-There you go. - you handed him the blanket smiling.

-Thank you very much.

Then he stood there for a moment drinking in the sight of you in front of him. You were wearing an oversized tshirt, that ended just around the middle of your thighs, hair in a messy bun, no makeup. He could swear he thought you were pretty before, but seeing you as you were made him fancy you even more.

With a small smile you told him goodnight again, then closed the door in his face.

You could hear his little laugh on the other side of the door, then his door closing. For the first time in months he didn't wake up in the middle of the night, and he didn't had a nightmare either. He was afraid he would, and then he would wake you up with his screaming, but looks like the blanket which smelled just like you calmed him enough.

After waking up because the rays of sunshine on his face, he smiled to himself guess i'll wait with getting my own blanket then...

[wonlouvre]

pairing: doctor!wonwoo x lawyer!female oc genre: modern royalty, arranged marriage, fluff and angst word count: 3.7k WARNINGS: hospital setting, mentions of surgery/operation, blood, violence

a/n: so, this is it guys. the final part of ifliys :( i would like to extend my sincere thank yous to each and everyone who have read, liked, commented and shared this series. this is the very first fanfic i was able to finish/complete because of the support, love and motivation you all gave as i wrote this. don’t worry! there is an epilogue and i will announce what i have in store for them in the near future. in the meantime, this is part ten. thank you very much!

ten: moonlight | masterlist

The Queen is talkative. That’s one of the many quirks she has that you noticed when you were growing up. It’s not the uncomfortable or annoying kind of talkative. You really don’t know how to exactly put it, but she’s talkative in an elegant and easy-going way. One time, she decided to take a walk on a particularly busy street with only one member of the security detail assigned to tail her a few meters behind. She told you the whole story, excitedly. She was casually strolling and asking typical questions like what time is it to some vendors, passersby and the like. She even held a conversation about olive oil that lasted a good twenty minutes until the stranger she was talking to recognized who she was. You can tell that she had a blast as she laughed all through the evening. 

Spending time with her gradually dwindled because of your job paired with your official duties as the Crowned Princess. But when opportunity arises, you make sure to make it worth the wait. Conversations are easy with her because she’s trustworthy and most importantly, she’s your mother. She usually asks you random, yet unexpectedly relevant questions whenever the two of you share a cup of coffee or tea or when you go shopping and even now is no different, as you’re about to choose the right fabric for your wedding dress. 

“Describe the person that brings the best out of you.”

Ah, here we go. Your mother is surely not distracting you but her intent stares as she props her arm against the armrest of the white couch she’s sitting on is definitely pulling you away from the matter at hand. The look on your eyes is telling her really? and she fires back with an expecting one telling you a silent, “well? Come on. Tell me.”

You snort and shake your head, bringing your attention back to the table. You’re not denying your mother an answer because you know who to describe. It’s not that hard to figure out and you know she’s smart enough to know.

Jeon Wonwoo.

“How do you want me to describe? Personality or physical features?” You ask back and humor her as you fiddle with one lace material. 

“Both,” she challenges with a mischievous grin and you’re not one to back down. 

“Well, the person is quite tall and sharp in terms of physical features,” you start, doing your best to describe him implicitly. “Has a way with words, but they are all genuine and honest.”

Unbeknownst to you, your mother’s fond smile confirms your assumption that she is smart and that she knows who you’re talking about. But she presses on, loving how you describe this mysterious person. 

“What about those features then? How do they help you?”

You thought for a moment and when the right words came to mind, you didn’t hesitate to say, “They inspire me to do and be better not only for myself but for everyone else. Mostly it’s their genuineness and honesty that inspires me.”

You and your mother laugh together at your last sentence. 

It’s true though. After witnessing Wonwoo in the light of his Kingdom, something tugged at your heartstrings. You don’t exactly remember when, maybe it was around high school, but you remember adamantly telling your friends that you would want to be with someone that will bring the best out in you. Someone that can fuel your desire to be of service for the greater good. It sounds awfully used too often and you’re sure you’re not the only one who thinks this way, but as you have already said, it’s the truth.

Despite the circumstances, you found that someone. You found Wonwoo.

A few seconds later, Jeongyeon comes in with a knock and announces, “Your Majesty, Prince Wonwoo has arrived.”

Your eyes spring up at the name, distracted once again. And when you see the “tall” and “sharp” Prince, you’re quick to your feet and run towards him. He stumbles a little when you jump at him in a tight hug, arms clinging around his neck. Nonetheless, he smiles and welcomes your enthusiastic embrace with a soft smooch on the side of your head. 

“Wait,” you abruptly pull away. “You’re not supposed to be here, though.”

Wonwoo acts dumb, tilting his head to the side. “What do you mean? Her Majesty invited me to be here.”

“Calm down, Y/N,” you hear the culprit say behind your back as she stands up to greet her future son-in-law. “There’s no dress yet. It’s okay for him to be here.”

You subtly roll your eyes. You’re not one to be superficial but if there were a dress already, she’d take her words back. You return your arms back to Wonwoo’s waist and lean your chin against his chest, your lips pulling into a pout. He leans down to meet your lips with a quick peck but your mother was quicker to push you aside and to take her turn in giving him a hug. 

Your jaw drops and your pout is exchanged with a scowl. 

Wonwoo tries his best to hold his laughter but to no avail, fails as he formally greets the Queen. “Good afternoon, Your Majesty.” 

“Always good to see you, my Prince,” the Queen replies and gently pats his cheek. “And now that you’re here, I can finally take my leave.”

“Leave? We haven’t even picked a fabric yet,” you remind her and stand in between them. 

“Honey, you have been going back and forth since nine in the morning,” she retaliates and walks back to the couch to pick her bag up. “Let’s schedule for another day. Unless you want Wonwoo to leave and we continue.”

Your stance immediately takes a hundred eighty degree turn. “You know what, you’re right. Let’s clear Saturday next week and we’ll take it from there.”

“I thought so.”

With a knowing wink, the Queen takes off.

That memory was from about three weeks ago after your visit and vacation at Wonwoo’s Kingdom. Wedding planning was back and the two of you went your separate ways for the time being to prepare your respective attire and accessories. Wonwoo didn’t know you had that conversation with the Queen not until she told him here at the hospital where you lie unconscious and fighting for your life.

The Royal Hospital was once again swarmed with a plethora of men in black suits because the Crowned Princess of the Kingdom has been shot twice, one on her shoulder and another on her left leg. It was a failed attempt in assassinating the King but Kim Mingyu took the opportunity to target your vulnerability and let his men shoot you instead as if it was his plan b. Kim Mingyu, whom he never desires to meet, is finally in police custody. He didn’t try to elude his impending arrest. In fact, he knew he would get arrested. He just wanted to toy with people until he couldn’t anymore. 

Wonwoo has no words to spare to describe him and seeing his face and hearing his name everywhere and everytime is just making his blood boil. 

The Queen has never left the hospital from the moment she arrived while you were undergoing operation up to being placed in a private room. She was calm when Wonwoo stood up from the bench to respectfully address her. She just nodded her head when he couldn’t say a word without his lips trembling and enveloped him in a warm hug as he cried on her shoulder. 

She told him that the two of you haven’t spoken since your father’s arrest and it has been unbearably painful and challenging. She acknowledges how terrible and neglecting she has been as a mother when she knows how absolutely difficult this is for you. It’s even more heartbreaking because you never once complained. Instead you respected her silence and distance. She regrets her absence and seeing you lying on a bed, looking so cold and fragile is making her world completely fall apart.

“Wonwoo, I’m so sorry that this happened,” the Queen solemnly says and holds his hand tightly. “The Kingdom promises that everyone involved will be held accountable.”

Wonwoo nods. “I understand, Your Majesty. Our Kingdom will do so as well.”

“I also want you to know that Y/N never wanted to end the engagement,” she adds. “She was just afraid that someone like her doesn’t deserve to receive your love.”

Wonwoo didn’t know that you looked up to him. If anyone should be admired, it should be you because you were ready to drop everything just to uphold justice. It’s been three days after the operation and you still haven’t opened your eyes. The operation was successful. No artery nor major organs were damaged, but you did lose a lot of blood. Just like the Queen, Wonwoo has been by your side, patiently waiting. Right now despite your stable condition, he still feels like dying. 

The love of his life almost died before his eyes. 

Wonwoo rests his head on the small space beside your arm, similar to the first time he took care of you a few months back. He gazes at your peaceful face, silently begging for you to wake up. He wants to kiss, hear and hug you again. He wants to be with you again. 

“Wonwoo.”

He sits up straight at the sound of his name and finds the Queen sadly smiling at him.

“How about you go back to your apartment for today?” She suggests, taking the seat on your other side. “Take a long shower and have some shut eye? Hmmm?”

Wonwoo bites his bottom lip, hesitant to leave and not have his eyes on you. He badly wants to stay and be here when you finally wake up. But the Queen is right. You’re safe now so he has nothing to worry about anymore. 

Slowly, he stands up from the chair he’s been sitting on for who knows how long. He clasps his one hand around yours while the other sweeps the hair that’s covering your forehead and lands a gentle kiss there. You’re starting to warm up and that’s a relief. 

He talks to you every single day, hoping you’d hear his voice. For now, he’ll keep it to himself.

I love you.

Later in the evening, you find your mother quietly dozing off, her head swaying from left to right and vice versa as she remains upright on the couch placed near the wall. You blink your eyes and adapt to the sudden brightness greeting your senses. You try to move your head and take in your surroundings and after a few minutes of contemplating, you recognize where you’re at and remember everything. 

Dad.

Your violent gasp immediately roused your mother from her sleep and seeing you struggling to sit made her jolt up and hurry beside you. 

“Darling,” she calls and holds your thrashing arms down, worried that you’d worsen your wounds. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“Dad,” you voice out against the dryness of your throat. “Mom, where’s dad?”

“He’s okay too.” You can see the tears welling up on her eyes as she caresses your hair and gently pulls you in a hug. “He’s safe.”

Together, you shed the tears of anguish that you have been holding back for so long.

The King couldn’t be here because the court didn’t allow his appeal to accompany nor visit you even just for a day. He couldn’t even carry his daughter’s body to the ambulance because he was handcuffed and heavily guarded. He couldn’t even protect his daughter from the harmful consequences of his mistakes. Your mother told you that he desperately wants to be by your side and you do know that. You’re way past his inability to be here and that’s none of your concern anymore. As long as he is safe, you’re more than content. 

The trial has been rescheduled for next week and your father has to be detained until then. You’ll try to visit him again once you’re discharged and together with that, you’d also find the strength to accompany him at his trial. 

Your mother was firm on staying and insisting that she’s fine when you tried to urge her to go home, but you can clearly tell how tired she is from the lack of sleep so you didn’t let her win. It’s already late in the night when she finally gave in. Your mother kisses your cheek one last time after the doctor assessed your condition. Jeongyeon would stick around for the evening in her stead. Poor girl cried so much the moment she saw you widely awake.

Once it’s only the two of you left, Jeongyeon helped you sit on a wheelchair and wheeled you next to the window before she left to grab some extra bottled water. You can’t stand properly yet because of the wound on your leg so a wheelchair is necessary if you want to be mobile. You’re starting to feel the back pain after lying down for so long, you need to move. The doctor was a bit apprehensive about allowing you to leave your bed, but gave in when you promised to stay inside the room. 

The moon, shining in all its glory, up in the dark sky looked so enticing, you had to take a closer look. The three days went by so fast and running through all that ensued leaves a sickening sensation down to your stomach. You shake your head, not wanting to relive the frightening memories.

Your attention goes back to the moon and one person comes to mind. 

It makes you selfishly wonder if he ever visited once or asked and worried about you as you bring your hand up to your neck. When you don’t feel the lifebuoy pendant, your heart skips a beat. You then looked down to your hand, your engagement ring is also not on your finger. You frown, growing upset. They could have removed it, but it should be back to you by now. You looked around the room, hoping to find your precious gems within reach. Just in time before you could wheel yourself around to search for them, you hear the door open.

“Hey Jeongyeon, have you seen my necklace and ring?” You ask to the void as you tilt your head back to the moon.

When you don’t hear any answer other than the sound of heavy breathing, you remove your gaze from the window to see who came in if it’s not your assistant. To your surprise it’s no other than,

“Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo didn’t keep count of the exact times, but he knows how long and how much he begged just to hear your voice call his name once again. He didn’t even have the chance to change from his sweatpants and sleeveless shirt when he received the call from Soonyoung (whom Jeongyeon told to). Honestly? He didn’t bother at all because he just wanted to be right here at this moment. 

To be with you. 

He takes slow steps as he calms his breathing. Meanwhile, you remained seated and let him come to you. You’d run to him just like you did back then, but your leg wouldn’t appreciate that. 

It felt like forever for Wonwoo to get to you. But when he finally drops on the floor and lightly rests his head on your lap, there’s no reason for him to complain anymore. 

Your tears fall again for the nth time tonight. You caress his wet locks, probably from the mixture of his shower and sweat. He cries too because you can feel it seeping against the pants you’re wearing. He wraps his arms around your lap, careful from crashing his weight. You, on the other hand, bend your head down to kiss the crown of his head.

Both of your hearts are shouting, finally. 

The beautiful moonlight shines on the two of you as you both silently settle down there for a moment, not giving a care in the world because this is just what you’ve been yearning for and you’re not allowing anyone nor anything to steal this away ever again.

Your long face doesn’t go unnoticed by Wonwoo and he knows why you’re pulling it against him. But no, he is not falling for it. Instead he ignores your silent plea and continues tucking you back on the bed. You glance up at him and try to win him again with your attempt at puppy dog eyes and when he doesn’t, you give up.

“You know that this bed is too small to fit two bodies, Y/N,” he states the obvious and drags a chair to sit on. “I know you’re smart enough to see that.”

You huff and pull the covers closer to your chin. If it wasn’t for the wound on your shoulder, you’d turn your back against him. 

Wonwoo just rolls his eyes at your antics and holds your hand under the warm blanket. 

After your short reunion, Wonwoo decided to get you back to your bed because it was nearing one o’clock in the morning. You haven’t brought up what happened and it’s alright because you still have another chance to do so. Hopefully.

“I’m sorry, Wonwoo,” you whisper under your breath but his ears can hear your words. 

He nods and kisses the back of your hand. “I know, baby. It’s not your fault.”

Baby.

You never use pet names or terms of endearment and hearing him say it for the first time almost made you faint. It’s an exaggeration but you’re weak at the moment and anything that flusters your heart can potentially weaken your whole body. 

Wonwoo then brings something out from his pockets and your eyes brighten at the sight of the necklace he gave you. He chuckles when he sees your excited expression and stands up. His fingers tenderly graze the skin of your neck when he puts it back to where it rightfully belongs. 

“I thought I lost it,” you say, holding the pendant between your fingers.

He sits back down and what he mutters next makes you feel a twinge of guilt. 

“I thought I lost you.”

You sigh and coax him to you, grasping the hand enclosed to yours. “Come here.” 

This time you let him take the small space on your bed. You sit up as well so that you can reach his height. He helps you and once you’re comfortably situated, you wrap your arms around his waist and rest your head on his chest. 

Wonwoo smiles at your affection and lets his hand smooth against your hair. You have always been brave when it comes to touching him and he’ll never forget how you kissed him on the lips first. He’s so glad and relieved you’re finally awake. He doesn’t think he can go on for another day without you. And now that you’re holding each other like this, he wishes for this night to never end. 

“I’ll probably not inherit the throne,” you say against his shirt. “I don’t think your family would want you to marry an abolished monarch.”

Wonwoo’s hand drops and he breathes out a disappointed sigh. He is not having this conversation with you right now. Why must you ruin the moment? 

When you don’t feel his hand against you anymore, you look up and steal a kiss under his chin. However, that doesn’t suffice because he’s still upset and it’s evident on the frown adorning his handsome face.

“But I realized I love you, so if it means I have to beg all the way to their Majesties for your hand then—”

Wonwoo doesn’t let you continue and shuts you up with a searing kiss. He softly squeezes your cheeks with one of his hands, almost as if commanding you to pucker your lips. Your eyes widened in surprise but when he put his other hand at the side of your neck, you surrendered. 

It’s no secret that you and Wonwoo kiss. Oftentimes they’re just quick brushes, but sometimes they get a little bit more intense, deeper. You won’t get into detail though, because that’s a story to tell for some other time. 

For now, you eagerly meet Wonwoo’s passion as he lays you back down on the bed, of course with caution. He doesn’t fully drop his weight on top of you, one arm carrying his upper body while the other gingerly cupping one side of your face. 

His chest is firm and his shoulder broad as you grip your hands on them and continue kissing him. You should be asleep by now because you are still recovering. But Wonwoo is a doctor himself, right? So if he took the initiative to kiss you until sunrise, then it must be alright. 

Okay, maybe it’s wrong to mock his profession like that. But, you’re just grateful to kiss him like this again. Because the last time you shared one, tears were streaming down your face and you two were on the verge of breaking up. 

“I should really put you to sleep now,” Wonwoo whispers against your lips, breathless. 

You hold your laughter, still basking in his taste. When you open your eyes, Wonwoo is already hoisting himself back up. Your lips draw into a pout again and the cause of it just rolls his eyes.

“I promise there will be more, but for now rest, okay?” He pinches your cheek lightly and sits back on the chair. 

“You can take the couch,” you tell him.

“Sleep, Y/N.”

You no longer defy and close your eyes. 

You remember the first time he commanded you those words and looking back, they are all fond memories of your then developing relationship. There were many questions when you and Wonwoo got along so well and so fast. There were many doubts and insecurities. The two of you shared those in silence, which could have endangered your hearts. However, even though your relationship was shaken and tested, the two of you persevered. 

For you, Wonwoo persevered and words and actions are not enough to thank him. You couldn’t have overcome this without his support and patience. So from now on, against all odds, you’ll do exactly the same.

[golden-pickaxe]

Coffee (Part 5)

Fandom: Vikings

Paring: Ivar x Reader

Type: Modern AU, Office AU

Wordcount: 3619

Warnings: reader drinks wine casually

[Coffee - All Parts Here]

A/N: Here is part 5!

Tagged: @youbloodymadgenius​ @punkrocknpearls @mootiemoose​ @istorkyou @dini73​ @heavenly1927​ @hashimily​ @peakywitch​

Summary: You are a graduate student at the University of Oslo, and have applied for a job as a personal assistant at the Lothbrok Corporation, without really knowing much of the position advertised. When it turns out you are going to work for the (in)famous Ivar Lothbrok, your whole life is turned up-side-down.

With Ivar just wearing a t-shirt, instead of his usual well-cut suits, you could very clearly see the strong muscles in his arms, as you watched him pushing his wheelchair out of the pedestrian zone, towards the street. You had to swallow at the sight, hating yourself for the effect this man had on you.

 You walked along side him, finally realising what you had done. Just like a year ago, when the coin had dropped that you had really applied at the Lothbrok Corporation, it now dropped that you had just accepted his invitation to come to his home and let him cook for you. Him, one of the most influential businessmen of Norway. With his own fucking Wikipedia site.

Your heart was pounding rapidly in your chest at the thought, and you bit your lower lip, not quite knowing what this whole thing would mean now. And if it would change anything between you. You hoped not, but in the same way, you did hope.

 Getting your private life mixed up with your job probably was not a good idea. On the other hand, this whole situation kind of freaked you out, but in a good way. It was exciting.

 You and Ivar had reached the street, next to the national gallery, where a few minutes later the taxi arrived. Personally, you would never get a taxi in Oslo, as it was just insanely expensive, but with a lot of public transport, such as the tram you had taken to get here, not entirely being accessible to someone in a wheelchair, you could understand why Ivar had called it.

 Ivar maneuverered himself into one of the back seats, while the driver put his chair into the trunk of the car. You felt Ivar’s blue eyes watching you, as you rounded the vehicle to get into at the other side.

Even though he always successfully overplayed it, you saw that he was a bit self-conscious about his legs, often cursing them underneath his breath when they once again got into his way. He could move them a little bit, and also seemed to have some feeling in them, was even able to stand up for a few moments, if he could support himself with his arms. But in general, they did not really seem to be working.

In the office, Ivar hated to use his wheelchair, often just dragging himself from his desk to his sofa, his immense upper body strength enabling him to pull himself up with not much of an issue.

 Now, sitting next to you in the taxi on the way to his apartment, he readjusted his legs a bit with tight lips, appearing a bit nervous once more. You still could not quite wrap your head around what was happening right now, it all felt a bit like a dream to you. Just so, you managed to resist the urge to pinch yourself.

 Your boss, your grumpy boss, the infamous Ivar Lothbrok had just casually invited you to go out for coffee with him, had questioned you about almost every aspect of your life, paid for your drink, and now took you to his home to cook for you. It almost sounded like a very bad rom-com, like a romance story some bored, lonely woman would think up. Not that you expected it to end that way, of course. Even if you honestly wished it would.

 Until now, even if you sometimes chatted on business trips, your relationship had been purely professional, and you had only been over to his flat once, when you had brought him a set of suits to his home, when there had been issues with his dry cleaner. It had not really surprised you, finding out that he also lived in Majorstuen, actually not very far from you, although it had been a stress factor for you. Of course, he did not live in one of the old buildings, like you did, with paper thin walls, no elevator and wonky doors, no. He lived on the top floor of one of those new, fancy apartment buildings, costing a few ten-million krona, overlooking Frognerparken.

 When you had brought the suits up to his apartment, you had also met a famous Norwegian actor in the lift, so it was clear what kind of people occupied the other flats of the building. You had never been inside his home, had only delivered his suits to his door, but even the entrance and the lift had been very fancy and expensive looking. Admittedly, you had taken a stupid selfie in the mirror of the lift and posted it to Instagram.

 As Aker Brygge was, as stated, not far from Majorstuen, the drive was quite short, and the few minutes of silence were only broken by far too relaxing music coming out of the car radio. The taxi stopped in front of the apartment building Ivar lived in, and he paid the driver, while you got out, retrieving Ivar’s wheelchair from the trunk. You set it up and positioned it next to the car, for him to climb into.

 Ivar clenched his jaw a bit, obviously annoyed at something, even though you were not quite sure what exactly it was that he was annoyed by now, only hoping that it was not you. Well, at least you would have not far home now.

Ivar climbed out of the car, moving himself over to sit in his chair, before unlocking the breaks and rolling towards the door of the building, while the taxi behind you departed.

 Just as you remembered, the entry hall of the apartment complex was very posh, and you were reminded that this was a completely different world from yours. A different world from your shitty apartment, where you could hear almost every conversation your neighbours were having, and where you had push your full body against the bathroom door to get it to close properly.

 Following Ivar to the lift, the two of you got in, and Ivar pressed the button of the top floor. As soon as the doors had closed, Ivar’s eyes were on you, mustering you intently. His gaze was a tad intimidating, you had to admit, once again looking like a predator looking at his prey. Still, you managed to look back with a smile.

 “Are there any things you don’t eat, before I work my magic?” he asked, a smirk on his handsome face. You had to laugh at his choice of words, but told him about any dietary restrictions or things you didn’t like, and Ivar nodded.

 “Alright. I think I know what to make, then.” He leaned back in his chair a bit, biting how lower lip, a move that made your knees feel very weak.

 “Thank you.” It came out of your mouth, earning a very surprised expression from Ivar.

 “What for?” he asked honestly a bit confused, tilting his head at you.

 “For the coffee. And for inviting me over, and for cooking.” You studied his face, hoping to find something there, something that would give up his intentions, something revealing why he was doing this. You just needed to know, needed to know if you could get your hopes up or not. Was this really just a social call because you had been working for him for a year now, or was it something else?

 “Thank me after you’ve tasted my glorious food! Then I will gladly accept your thanks.” Ivar winked, and the elevator doors opened. Ivar left the lift, pulling his keys out of his pocket as he stopped at his front door.

 His flat was the only flat up here, and you guessed it had to be gigantic, covering the whole top floor. You were sure, his flat probably also had a roof terrace.

 You had to admit, this was another thing you found kind of intimidating about this man. The sheer amount of wealth he had, the wealth his family had. While you lived in a flat share with an old kitchen and horrible, tiny bathroom, with just a wet room and not even a proper shower, he lived in this extremely modern, borderline futuristic building, overlooking Oslo.

 Ivar opened the door, and pushed himself into the flat, with you following close behind, walking past him before he closed the door again behind you.

 Obviously you had imagined this place to be huge and expensive, but what you were seeing in front of your eyes was just.. something else.

It was less of a normal flat, and more of a large loft, most of the rooms merged into one big space. There was, similar to his office, a gigantic glass front overlooking the famous park, and West Oslo. The sun was still in the sky, the sunset not being for another one and a half hours or so.

 In the centre of the room was a big, beautiful white sofa, the kind where one could just stretch out like a starfish and not fall down. In front of it was a coffee table made out of driftwood and glass, the dark wood in stark contrast with the sofa. On the right of it were large, metal, urban looking bookshelves, filled with many thick books, some leather bound and old looking, dividing the living area from the ‘bedroom’, and there were a few doors opposite of the windows, that seemed to lead into extra rooms, probably the bathroom and other rooms.

 Behind the bookshelf you could see a large bed at the wall, so large in fact that you were sure that it could comfortably fit three to four fully grown people. It was covered and surrounded in white and grey furs, sheep and reindeer as far as you could tell from the distance. Furs also covered parts of the marble floor of the flat.

 There were many more furs on and in front of the sofa, and in general it seemed that grey, white and black, together with different shades of brown were the only colours in the whole apartment, making it look very sophisticated.

 On the left-hand side was a giant, very modern kitchen, seemingly equipped with everything a cook could wish for, with a large kitchen isle and a big table in front of it, a rustic looking piece of furniture, made of wood and carved with beautiful knot patterns, probably hand made by a very skilled Scandinavian carpenter knowing a lot about medieval woodcarving.

 The kitchen itself, you noticed, was lower than what you were used to, and while it confused you for a moment, you quickly realised that it was built so that Ivar could easily reach everything from his wheelchair, without having to get any help.

 “Welcome to my humble home.” You heard Ivar’s voice behind you, pulling you out of your thoughts. You swallowed and turned to him, looking at him as he watched you with a knowing smile on his lips.

 You could not hold back a laugh.

“Humble?” you simply asked, slipping out of your shoes and walking further into the big room, looking around.

 The whole flat was modern and elegant, yet had such a rustic and clearly Scandinavian aesthetic, it was truly impressive. Whoever was the interior designer, was truly a genius, and showed an amazing appreciation for medieval Scandinavian design. Similar works you had only seen in the Folksmuseet in Bygdøy.

 The walls that were not made out of glass were covered in picture frames, displaying either old Viking artwork or photographs of Norway and Iceland, of runestones and old temples. Somehow, it fitted in perfectly with the rest of the decoration.

 There was a door in the glass front of the flat, leading out, just as you had assumed, onto a large roof top terrace, furnished with even more rustic, wooden, and probably handmade tables and chairs, and, as cliché as it sounded, a beautiful hot tub. It was built into a frame, reminding you of a Viking ship, with a set of carved stairs leading up to it, probably so that Ivar had an easier time to get in and out of it, without requiring any help.

 “Alright, I admit, not so humble.” Ivar chuckled. “It was a present from my father when I started to officially work in the company. He had his friend Floki and his wife Helga design and build this whole thing.”

 That made you turn around to him once more. You knew these names.

“The Floki and Helga?” you swallowed.

 Floki and Helga were very, very famous, highly awarded architects and designers, often hired to design important landmarks and museums. Houses planned by them costing up to a hundred million kronas. They were famous for being able to combine the traditional aesthetics of their ancestors with the modern designs of this century, creating masterpieces that were rewarded all over the world. Now, looking around Ivar’s loft once more, it seemed obvious that this was their handy work.

 “Yes, The Floki and Helga.” Ivar chuckled. “The two of them almost raised me when I was a kid. With my parents busy all the time and me being bound to.. this.” He gestured at is chair. “Floki made all the wooden furniture himself. I am very lucky.”

 “Indeed you are.” You shook your head, unable to believe what you had just heard.

 Obviously, he had been raised by the two of them. Obviously, they had made his home for him, being like family to him, and being friends of his father, the most powerful businessman in Norway, and probably even all of Europe.

By now, you wouldn’t even question, if Ivar casually told you that he was descended from Odin.

 Ivar just shrugged at your words, although the expression on his face was a mixture of amused and pride. He bent down to slip out of his shoes, before moving his wheelchair over to a spot next to the door, where another wheelchair was waiting for him, this one looking a bit different, similar to the ones used by disabled athletes. Easier to navigate and probably a bit more comfortable. Ivar heaved himself up from his chair, navigating himself into the other one, a sigh leaving his lips.

 “I don’t fancy the dirt from the streets in my home.” He explained at your confused face, before he pushed himself towards you.

Oh yes, that made sense. Just as both of you had taken off your shoes, it would only be logical for him to also ‘change wheels’.

 A faint smile was on his lips, as he looked up and into your face, his expression soft and open, something you were not quite used to from him. His body language was relaxed too, his arms simply resting in his lap, as his head was once again tilted slightly.

He was truly a beautiful man, you had to admit. It was difficult to ignore, and sometimes you caught yourself staring in meetings, hoping that no one had noticed how your eyes had been practically glued to your boss. Solveig had made fun of you even more, when you had told her about it.

 “I think I’m going to start to cook now, before we starve to death. So, sit down, get comfortable.” He winked at you, before moving his chair towards the kitchen, in the process letting the wheelchair roll a bit, while he pulled his long hair into a tight bun at the back of his head. “Or would you like to help?” he looked back at you with a raised eyebrow, looking at you from underneath his long eyelashes. You had to swallow.

 “Well, I am still your personal assistant. So, I will assist you.” You smiled, following him into the kitchen. You hoped that reminding yourself that you were still his employee would calm your nerves.

 “I had hoped you’d say that, dove.” There it was again, that nickname. Your nerves were certainly not calm now.

 Ivar started to pull out pans and a cutting board, gesturing at the fridge for you to take out certain ingredients and washing them in the sink.

 You were not entirely sure what he was going to make, but you were positively surprised that his fridge and his whole pantry was stocked very well. You had to admit, you had taken him for one of those bachelors who had never touched their kitchen in their lives, and with all the money they had always ate out.

 But, as Ivar casually explained while you were preparing food, he enjoyed cooking for himself, and did so almost every evening.

While you were washing some vegetables, and he was skilfully cutting up an onion, he casually told you about the cooking schools he had visited when he was younger, and about the occasional dinner parties he threw for his close friends and family, where he cooked up five course meals for them all by himself. He moved around his kitchen as if he knew every millimetre of it, knowing the layout like the back of his hand.

 You enjoyed this far too much. You rarely saw Ivar this casual, only on business trips when he was not in the mood to talk about work anymore. And though you did not like to admit it, you were keen to know more about his personal life, to know more about the man behind the name Lothbrok.

 It was nice to see him here, in his home. He seemed so at ease, so open, the usual anger and annoyance he often seemed to carry around with himself in day-to-day life completely absent in this moment. This was his space, where he did not have to worry, to think about what upset him.

 This flat truly seemed to be his place, and his place alone. His kingdom far from the influence of other people. Here he was himself, independent of everyone else, everything built in a way that he did not need help from other people.

 Whatever else would come of tonight, you were just happy that you could witness this. You would see Ivar differently now, you knew. And would probably fall even more for him.

 You noticed it getting a bit darker out, and a quick look at your phone told you that it was already half past nine PM. It had not seemed that long, getting to Ivar’s home and starting to cook, as you had not even finished the preparation for cooking yet, but frankly, you didn’t even mind. The setting sun tinted the whole apartment in a magical, golden light, making it look even more beautiful and magical. Ivar’s face turned away from his work for a moment, his blue eyes wandering over the horizon, where the sky was slowly tinted in orange, pink and purple. A faint smile appeared on his face, before he returned his attention to the food.

 Absently minded you put your phone on the kitchen isle, before you grabbed a jar of mixed spices, which Ivar had instructed you to get for him while he was still cutting up vegetables. You read the label, not surprised that he had not purchased them in Norway, but in Spain, turning around, eyes still on the jar. Thus, you only noticed too late that Ivar was right behind you, his chair almost inaudible on the marble floor.

 With a slightly embarrassing yelp escaping your throat, you lost balance, tripping over Ivar’s wheelchair, falling over and landing straight in his lap. His strong arms were suddenly around you to keep you from completely falling to the floor, and your face probably had taken on a crimson shade.

 “Careful there, dove. I’m usually not that hard to miss.” He smirked, to your surprise not even remotely angry with you.

 You had once, in your third month at the Lothbrok Corporation, seen a small clerk run into him in the office, who had been a bit late and had not really paid attention. After Ivar had yelled at him for good twenty minutes, he had never been heard of again.

 “Gods, I’m so sorry, I..” but you stopped, swallowing, not knowing what to say. You tried to get up, the jar of spices still in your hand, but Ivar’s strong grip around you firmly held you in place.

 The man tilted his head, eye flickering to the glass container you were holding. He let go of you with one of his arms, while the other one was still around you, taking the jar from your hands and placing it on the counter next to him. His blue eyes mustered you once more. Your heart was pounding. In the light of the setting sun he looked even more handsome than he had already.

 “I have told you, that you look good today, right?” he asked, his voice low. His hand had returned to hold you again, and you noticed his fingers carefully caressing your back, which sent a shiver up your spine.

 Your mind was racing, as was your heart.

You could not but stare into his piercing blue eyes, not sure what to say, how to respond to him right now, or if you should say anything at all. You were unable to think even one coherent thought, as you felt his strong arms around you, his firm body below you, and his hot breath against you skin.. wait. When had he gotten this close to you?

 Before you could really comprehend what was happening, you suddenly felt Ivar’s lips against yours, not firm, but soft, almost shily moving against yours. In that moment, it was as if your mind just gave up, and turned itself off.