#i turned on the game and this was the first thing i saw and i was like all right

[teriri-sayes]

Reactions to Crazier Bastard's Chapter 299

New title - 38. I'll Bet On You

Brief summary: Great elder elf gets scared of Clopeh's expressionless eyes. Clopeh carried Cale on his back as the butler guided them to a room. Clopeh asks Mold to send the video he took to Cale's group. Unconscious Cale finds himself in a dark space and then suddenly enters the game world.

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Today's Clopeh was his serious self. His expressionless eyes even scared the great elder who felt that Clopeh was a dangerous madman at that moment. He only smiled once before carrying Cale on his back, not caring about the blood still dripping on his back. And when he met eyes with Exion, he told the dragon that when Cale wakes up, they would have to give whatever Cale wanted.

As for his legend-spouting self, he did tell everyone, "It would be foolish, indeed, to turn away from this marvelous sight." This referred to the wondrous changes Cale had done to the WT. But afterwards, he muttered softly, "A hero's sacrifice. It's not a legend, it's just a tragedy."

I guess Clopeh still had some sense to consider Cale's sacrifice as tragic, and not praise it as being legendary. However, this die-hard Cale fan also noticed that 1st Bishop Mold had secretly recorded a video of what happened. And guess what he asked Mold to do? He asked Mold to send that video to Cale's group, namely CH and Raon, and to the people in the black castle... What? Why would you do that, Clopeh? Do you want them to wreck this place? 🤣🤣🤣

As for what happened to the WT, it seemed like what happened in the mindscape was also seen outside. Everyone felt Cale's nature APs and the power of the saint's golden eye. They also saw the water circling the tree and rising to the sky, and got a glimpse of the source of the world appearing in the sky. And all the flowers in the back garden withered before blooming anew. It was the WT's death and rebirth.

So it was no wonder that everyone was shocked. 1st Bishop Mold became hopeful that Cale could save this world from destruction and also change the pope's mind. Erza was too stunned to speak. The great elder was in awe. And 3rd Star Exion seemed to have made a decision. His actions afterwards seemed to imply that he had chosen to side with Cale's group.

Cale wanted to be a slacker, but even in his rest time, he had to work. 😂 Just like the past times when he fainted, he woke up in some kind of space. It was a dark space where a lone single light shone. The light was the golden eye of the saint, so Cale understood that this was how the "digestion" worked.

But a strange thing happened when he touched the golden eye...

A bright light washed over him, and soon, Cale could see the darkness disappear and a new space appear. And then he froze. [Raise your own precious Absolute God!] [Welcome to New World, the new world!] [Would you mind telling me your name, you who took your first steps on this land?] "Eh?" [Tutorial Quest 1. Set a nickname] Cale was genuinely puzzled. …Did I just suddenly, out of nowhere, enter the game world? "What the hell?" [Are you going to use the nickname "What the hell?"?] Damn it. Cale felt his irritation begin to rise.

HAHAHAHA 🤣🤣🤣🤣 First of all, that game world was really named "New World"? 😂😂😂 And then that nickname... 🤣🤣🤣 But why did Cale suddenly enter the game world? If Alberu used Taerang as his medium to enter the game, was Cale's medium the golden eye of the saint? Why was that? Was the saint from Earth 3?

Ending Remarks Clopeh's seriousness was nice to see, and Cale's sudden entrance to the game world was surprising. Now I'm excited for Cale to join Alberu in his game quests. I guess Cale would be the hero in the game too, huh? Raise my precious absolute god? Nah, Cale would be here to kill that absolute god. 😂

[patscorner]

one shot idea ! kk always liked y/n but was always nervous to make move so she sneakily starts leaving flowers in y/ns locker 🙈🙏🏽

yes ma'am🫡

Locker Of Petals

Summary: see request

wc: 1802

Pairing: kk arnold x teammate!reader

Contains: kissing, wingman Paige, angst if you squint

(first time writing for wcbb, cut me some slack)

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Kamorea doesn’t know when she knew she fell. She didn’t know when she started to notice the little things, like the way the jersey hugged your torso or the way she’d catch herself staring at your arms a little too long. Maybe it was the way your presence lit up every room you walked in or the way she’d catch herself looking for you at parties, praying you’d show up.

KK didn’t know if you felt it, but she had a hunch. From the way she’d look for you and already find you looking at her, to the way you seemed brighter around her, how your eyes lit up when she saw you. She seemed to convince herself that you were straight, even though she never asked, and you’d never mentioned anything about dating anyone.

But she knew she’d fallen and hard. Every single thought she had contained a bit of you. Whether she was eating dinner with her family or she was driving to practice, she was always thinking about you. And with you, she was even more of a mess, stumbling on her words, struggling to maintain eye contact, or messing up her shots because she heard your voice.

But to her, there was nothing she could do because she thought you were straight, as most people did. You were straight passing, but it couldn’t be farther from the truth. Sure, you’d had your fair share of boyfriends, who didn’t hit right, and you’d never felt that spark. But the first girl you’d kissed, you knew you didn’t like men.

KK knew she liked you, and it wasn’t like you hadn’t had your eyes on her either. You’ll admit, you noticed the way her arms flex during warmups, the way you smile extra wide when she’s in her dancing moods, the way you always seemed to navigate to her when you guys were in public settings.

You two weren’t subtle either, the team noticed the tension, often teasing you two or purposely leaving you two alone. The internet noticed too. They had compiled clips of you both staring at each other for a second too long, or being too close and whispering to each other. They noticed how everytime KK was live, you’d either be in the chat, or she’d request you to join, which you never refused. They noticed that after a good shot, or a game winning buzzer beater, you two were the first to make physical contact, hugging, chest bumping, or dapping each other up.

Either way, it didn’t matter because you both were oblivious to the feelings the other felt towards you, stupidly seeing the actions as platonic. It was painful for your teammates to watch, Paige and Nika ear often being talked off by both you and KK. Finally, Paige was fed up.

“Why don’t you just talk to her?” she asked KK. KK scrunched her face and shrugged. “I don’t know if she likes me… or people like me.”

Paige raised her eyebrows. “People like you?” KK sighed. “Yeah, you know…” Paige shook her head. “You’re fucking stupid.”

KK rolled her eyes. “Very fucking helpful, P. Thank you! I feel so much better now!” she spoke sarcastically. Now it was Paige’s turn to roll her eyes. “Come on, bro, if you don’t see she’s gay, you’re the blindest fucker alive.”

“Spell blindest, Paige.” KK scoffed. Paige shook her head but ignored her comment and continued. “You’re missing the point, KK. Ask her, please. For mine and Nika’s sake. If I’m kept up for another night listening to you whine and bitch and complain about it, I will ask her for you.”

KK groaned and fell back on the couch dramatically. “But what if-”

“Do it.”

“P, come on, how do I kn-”

“You don’t. And you’re not gonna find out by sitting here and crying about it.”

KK shook her head, but she knew Paige was right. She was only delaying the inevitable. She was only hurting herself by waiting.

She sighed dramatically. “Fine.”

Paige perked up. “Seriously?” KK rolled her eyes. “I said fine, didn’t I?”

Paige scoffed. “You do not get to give me attitude, I’m helping you out. “Yeah, yeah. How should I do it?” KK asked.

Paige smirked. “Don’t worry, I got an idea.”

Over the weeks, KK found a way to leave your favorite flowers in your locker every day. She’d do it when you were in the bathroom, or she’d sneak into the locker room during practice. Every day, you got a flower, and every day, you grew even more curious about who it could be. You’d asked the team once, but they all denied it. You knew it had to be one of them, but you weren’t interested in confrontation.

Finally, KK grew tired of waiting for you to put the puzzle together, so she decided to give you the missing piece. Her.

It was just another practice for you guys, and you’d gone to your locker to grab your water bottle. You opened your locker and smiled as the flower you’d grown so familiar with fell to your feet. You picked it up and put it on the bench behind you, continuing to rummage through your locker, resuming your search. A voice echoes from behind you, startling you.

“You ever figure out where the flowers were comin’ from?” KK piped up. You jumped, putting your hand on your heart as you turned around to face KK, who was standing near the entrance of the locker room. “Jesus, KK, you scared the shit outta me.”

She chuckled. “Sorry. But, did you?”

You looked at the flower, then back at her and shook your head. “Nah, they’re really sweet, though. I just wish whoever left ‘em would talk to me, y’know. Kinda curious as to what they mean.” You spoke, turning back to your locker.

KK was speechless, stunned by your beauty. Even though you were sweaty and stinky, KK couldn’t help but admire you. Your loose hairs sticking out of your ponytail and your legs veiny from the running you were doing.

You noticed KK’s silence, and turned back to her. You watch as her eyes trail back up your body, until they finally meet your eyes. You both grow warm under the intense eye contact, looking away immediately.

“Sorry.” KK mumbled, rubbing her neck as she walked over to sit on the bench behind you. You shook your head. “It’s okay.” You whisper back, turning around so your back was to the locker.

Silence fills the air as you and KK stare at each other. Finally, you clear your throat, breaking the deafening silence. “So, did you need something?”

KK takes a deep breath. “Uh… yeah, I kinda had to talk to you about something.” You don’t say anything, which gives her the go-ahead to continue.

“Uh, yeah. So I was thinking maybe we could hang out sometime. We could go watch a movie or like, I don’t know, eat dinner, y’know just us, or-or not. We totally could invite the team if you want, like it doesn’t have to be just us if you're not-” You laugh lightly, amused by her flustered state. “KK, calm down. I’d love to go out with you.”

Her eyes lit up. “Really?” You smile. “Yes, really.”

She stands up and gives you a hug, embracing you tightly. You aren’t surprised by this movement, as you and KK often shared intimate, ‘platonic’ hugs. What you were surprised about is that when KK pulled away, she stayed wrapped in your arms, eyes glancing at your lips, then back up at your eyes.

“Can I kiss you now?” she whispers. You smile and nod. “Please.”

And with that, her lips interlock with yours as you sigh into the kiss. You wrap your arms around her neck, deepening the kiss. KK groans as you swipe your tongue against her bottom lip, inciting a make-out, and she places her hands on your waist.

KK pulls you against her as she sits on the bench, placing you on her lap without once breaking the kiss. You moan into her mouth at her actions, your tongues dancing together.

The kiss becomes more heated, but it’s interrupted by a throat clearing. You look up quickly, but KK knows who it is, and she buries her face into the crook of your neck with a groan. You laugh at her reaction, smiling at the blonde grinning widely at you.

“So sorry to interrupt, but I’m glad I did before you guys fucked on the very public team bench.” You laughed nervously as KK lifted her head up and turned to Paige.

“Shut the fuck up. We were not going to fuck, P.” You fake pout. “We weren’t?”

KK eyes widen as they shoot to yours. “Oh! Uhm- I mean we can lat-” “I do NOT wanna hear you guys reschedule your fuck-sesh, as long as it’s not in here, I do not care. Just- talk or whatever and come out so we can start these drills.” and with that Paige closed the door.

You laugh lightly, before getting off of KK’s lap. “I assume that means you’re the one who’s been leaving these flowers?” you say, picking up the flower, playing with it between your fingers.

“What..? Me..? Noooo…” KK says sarcastically, smiling as she stood up in front of you. “Whatever makes you say that?” she says, her voice darkening. She steps towards you, closing the space between you.

You feel your face grow hot as you recognize the lack of distance between you. She’s so close that you could smell her minty breath and even though she was just practicing, she looks so good. It’s undeniable that KK is attractive, anyone with eyes can see that. Her brown skin glistened under the lighting on the court, and her face of concentration was one you could stare at forever.

You looked at her in her eyes and shrugged. “Lucky guess.” Your voice matches hers, laced with seduction. She smiles. “You may be right.” You grin, taking a step so that you’re looking down at her.

You hum lightly, leaning down to peck her lips lightly. KK sighs into the kiss, and you smile at her reaction. She’s whipped. You break the kiss, but instead of pulling away, you rest your forehead on yours.

“Let me take you out.” KK whispers looking in your eyes. You nod before pulling away and closing your locker.

“Okay. Now, let’s go before Paige comes back and yells at us.” You smile, grabbing her hand and leading her out.

KK couldn’t help but feel her face burn. She’s liked you for so long, and finally, she took the leap, and landed head over heels.

All because of your locker of petals.

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taglist: @bueckerslover @wintersstan

[silovsmenot]

Foreign Language | Artūrs Šilovs (Part Two)

FIND PART ONE HERE SUMMARY: A few months after your reunion with Artūrs, you're an official item. A surprise is ruined and Arty gets his call up to the NHL Playoffs. WARNINGS: This is pure, 1000cc fluff straight to the heart. I'm not sure if this baby goalie is capable of anything else. PAIRING: Artūrs Šilov & reader (f!reader implied). NOTES: I never expected the first part of this to be so popular, so a big thank you to everyone who enjoyed it. Just beware, if this one is as popular, this might get a 3rd and 4th part... If you want more parts, let me know! WORD COUNT: 2065

Two months had now passed since your reunion with the grinning Latvian goaltender — it was to nobody’s surprise that the two of you become an item soon after. Your partner saw it coming from a mile away, and from he always gravitated to you at the end of their training sessions, a few of his teammates had their suspicions. A weight was lifted from both of you when he finally came clean to those who asked, full of pride when he first called you his girlfriend.

After a few visits, your flatmate knew him well enough to simply open the door without question at the sound of his knock, and you’d made a few visits to his place in Abbotsford. It was all still very new, but it was all so right. You were happier than you had been for a while now, his smile able to instantly cheer you and brush away any tensions you had from a bad day.

And you did the same for him. He was always a quieter one, hesitant to complain about a bad training session or a stressful game, but he’d come to you for reassurance. You knew there was a lot going on in his head with the rumours of Demko being injured once more, combined with the pressures of the AHL playoffs. Even you were stressed with it all.

But there was one thing that took your mind off everything — your best kept secret from Arty.

It was a Saturday morning. You’d kissed him goodbye that morning as he left your apartment for training, your hand pulling him back to you for one more kiss before he could escape. He walked out of the room, grinning from ear to ear as he’d pause at your door to simply look at you. And as you turned over to get a little more sleep, he watched for a moment with a soft sigh of contentment. He was happy, happier than he had been for a while now.

You knew you had some hours before he’d return from his training session in Abbotsford, plenty of time to get back to your secret. It was going to be a surprise — you thought you’d chucked out those Latvian language textbooks that your ex had bought you, but with a quick visit to your parent’s house, there it was. It now hid in the bottom drawer of your bedside table, beneath the makeup wipes and emergency chocolate.

So, with a cup of coffee, your comfort clothing on, you’d sit at your kitchen counter with a pencil and work through your pages for the day. You were still nowhere near able to speak with him in Latvian, but you were doing your best and you wanted to surprise him with your hard work.

You’d whisper each word and phrase as you filled in the blanks or drew on each special character or circled the right verb. Occasionally your flatmate would quiz you on what you’d done, having no clue what they were saying but you appreciated the help.

Deep in your daily lesson, you were fairly oblivious to the front door opening and closing, simply attributing to your flatmate who often slipped out without a word. Not even the following silence alerted you to anything different, until…

“A Latvian textbook, huh?” The familiar voice of your boyfriend whispered in your ears, hands quickly upon your waist as he knew you’d flinch in surprise. You jerked away in surprise with breath failing and pencil almost thrown across the room as hands tried (and failed) to hide the book.

It took you a moment to glance around with shocked, if slightly annoyed, eyes, which only made Art laugh more as arms snaked around your waist from behind and pulled you into him.

“Stop looking at it… Why aren’t you at training?” You snapped, finding your smile again as leaned back into his chest.

“I just got a call —”

He didn’t need to say anymore, you were immediately rising from your chair with an awkward turn in his arms to embrace him.

“I’ve got to get over to Rogers in an hour.” He finally whispered into your ear as he squeezed your tight. While you hoped that Thatcher was alright and they wouldn’t need an EBUG, you were beyond thrilled for your boyfriend. And it meant so much to you to hear him this happy.

But happiness would put on hold for a moment as your felt his arm moving behind your back, knowing all to well that he was up to mischief.

“Kā iet tavai latviešu valodai?” Artūrs teased with the book raised behind your back, he was awkwardly flicking through the book with one hand and struggling.

“My Latvian is going fine, it was supposed to be a surprise.” You replied, tone deflated as you glanced over your shoulder at the open book. A frown was at your lips, and he saw it immediately.

Stepping from the embrace, he dropped the book upon the counter and held you at arm’s length with one arm, the other came to rest upon your cheek. He just grinned at you — fuck, you loved that grin. You would melt instantly at the sight of it.

“It is a surprise, y/n, and if you’ll let me, I’ll help you.” He spoke softly, leaning forward to place a soft kiss upon your forehead.  

Game one went passed without a hitch, Vancouver setting up with a 1-0 lead in the series with Arty sat comfortably and without disturbance as the EBUG. Game two, however, would see him promoted. With Demko out once more with undisclosed injury, your boyfriend took his place upon the bench as the Vancouver backup. He’d see no action that game, but you still watched on with greater concern than before.

As his bags sat by your apartment door, you kissed him goodbye on the morning of the 25th of April. The series taking them to Nashville for two games, you’d be forced to watch from Vancouver. He’d spent the last few nights at your place, favouring your room over the flat that the team had quickly given him next to the Rogers Arena — which he noted lacked blackout curtains. You’d told him to simply raise it with the team, but he didn’t want to be awkward.

He peppered your face with soft kisses as he knelt beside the bed, early in the morning, the flight to Nashville leaving in a few hours. You quiet laughed with each kiss, doing nothing to move away from them as you knew you’d miss him.

“Uz drīzu tikšanos — and keep up with your Latvian lessons.” Arty whispered with a final kiss upon your lips, his slowly growing playoff beard brushing against your chin.

“You can test me when you get home.” You replied in a quiet tease as he began toward the door, the grinning goalie glancing back at you and nodding his head without another word. You heard him leave and missed him immediately.

He’d text you as soon as he landed in Nashville, and you kept yourself busy for the day as you normally would with your work. The Canucks were away, but there was always something to photograph.

As was always the case with away games, all of the partners congregated at the Miller household to watch together and celebrate together if the boys won. You’d grown quite close with several of the partners, often more talkative than Artūrs, they’d come to you for plans instead of him knowing that you’d be more in tune with events. Game three ended with another win, and you enjoyed your night with the ladies.

Artūrs called you every night that he was away in Nashville. It was still so early in your relationship; the honeymoon phase was in full swing and neither of you enjoyed the distance. He was a private guy with everyone but you.

It was midday when you started hearing the buzz and getting cryptic texts from your partner — rumours coming out of Nashville were that Desmith would not be starting tonight. Vancouver would be running with their backup goaltender, who himself was being cryptic when you asked him.

You arrived early to the Miller household, somewhat relieved to be with Natalie as you avoided the texts from your colleagues as they begged for an insight into what was happening that you did not have. You were waiting for Tocchet’s announcement as much as everyone else. And you almost jumped for joy when you got it.

They announcement Arty would be starting barely an hour before the game, Natalie Miller was quick to embrace you in celebration. The game tonight would be entirely different as you sat, with a drink, your heart pounding in your ears.

Your grin was wide as you watched him skate onto the ice — in that sea of yellow, you wondered how he was feeling. And with every shot that he faced; you held your sleeves that little bit tighter.

In just three minutes, Boeser opened the scoring and Vancouver were up 1-0. There was a breath of relief from all the wives and girlfriends, each wearing a smile as there was a familiar confidence. The smiles, however, would quickly dampen as a shot from the point, tipped just in front, would even the score.

You could see the frustration beneath the mask, even from the couch in Vancouver. But with each shot that he saved; you watched his confidence build back up.

A fresh drink in hand in time for the puck drop the second period, you found yourself sitting in the closest chair to the tv as you watched with eyes full of worry. He could do it; you knew he could, but you were worried that he’d let his head drop. Watching an unlucky 2-on-1, the dragging puck flicked into the net just above his glove. Arty skated the line in the familiar frustration and you silently whispered to yourself.

‘You’ve got this, Arty… Come on.’

There would be no more scoring in the second period, Art saving everything that came his way with a few expert glove saves that made a number of the partners go ‘ooo’.

The third period opened with a loud shout from all the partners as a goal from a skate would sneak into the net. You all looked on in disbelief as it wasn’t disallowed for kicking, but there was little you could all do but complain. None more so than you.

But you watched him keep his head up, and you were so proud of him. They chanted his name, however poorly they pronounced it, and as time trickled down, Tocchet pulled him for the extra attacker. He’d done his part, now it was time for his teammates to do theirs. And Boeser answered the call with another goal putting Vancouver were back within one. And then another goal with 6.2 seconds to go, making it even and a tasty hattrick on the road. He’d received one hat on the ice, eliciting a small laugh within the Miller living room.

You went into overtime with your eyes hidden behind your sleeves, you couldn’t watch it. You were so desperate for them to return to Vancouver with another win — you listened to the sounds from the tv, and the sounds from the wives and girlfriends until you heard it. The shouts of celebration within the room, and your eyes opened. Elias Lindholm waiting patiently in front of the net and slapping it in before anyone even noticed he was there.

You watched with the biggest grin as Soucy and Šilovs were shown in the growing centre of a team hug, every player giving your boyfriend the taps on his helmet as he leaned into them. He’d won his first NHL playoff game, and you couldn’t have been prouder of him.

He wouldn’t look at his phone for some time and you knew that, but you wanted him to open his phone and to smile … More than he already would be.

It was a simple text, one you sent with your own grin on your face…

‘Es ļoti lepojos ar tevi, Arty.’

It was a few hours before you got a response, equally simple and sent with a bigger grin on his face as he sat with the boys in Nashville.

‘Es mīlu tevi.’

Uz drīzu tikšanos = I'll miss you

Es ļoti lepojos ar tevi = I'm very proud of you

Es mīlu tevi = I love you

[tossawary]

Everything surrounding Orihime's kidnapping in the Hueco Mundo arc of "Bleach" feels... weird and underwhelming to me. Like, I'm not fully certain what happened there. Did Ulquiorra hold those two random soul reaper escorts hostage until Orihime returned from saying her invisible goodbye, or was he just threatening her friends generally...?

The invisible goodbye thing has some interesting elements, but... I don't want to call Orihime a pushover for being threatened by genuinely scary people when she's feeling especially isolated, but it does seem to immediately and directly prove Urahara and others right when they said that Orihime is probably unsuited for the battlefield. Even medical / support people have to triage and improvise under fire and work within a greater structure! She (fairly!) does not like weighing lives!

(Though I do think that Urahara and others were very wrong to just tell Orihime to go away. She has no family! All she has left are her friends! And she's too self-sacrificing to ever willingly leave for her own sake! It would have been far better to keep her close and let her train for a medical / support position, so that she wouldn't get kidnapped like this (and would have had the confidence to work out some way to get around Aizen's weird mind games), when Ichigo is fucking notorious now for going apeshit if anything happens to even distant friends.)

When Ulquiorra first appeared in that space between worlds for an ambush, I was like, "OH SHIT, THAT'S COOL." This place is famously dangerous and if she and her escort disappear without a trace here, no one will know what happened. Perhaps Ulquiorra can destabilize whatever safety technology exists here and make it look like some mechanical failure. It's clever! (It also made me imagine Ulquiorra as some kind of deep sea leviathan, cleverly feeding on the plus souls and hollows passing over this trench, where the soul reapers don't think to look. Ulquiorra potentially first meeting Aizen by attempting to ambush him and swallow him whole in this inbetween place would be a great first encounter.)

And then Ulquiorra lets Orihime go to say a weird invisible goodbye? As part of Aizen's mind games to make the Gotei 13 think she left on her own and her feel like this kidnapping was partially her own choice? Unless Ulquiorra was holding those soul reapers hostage at this point in time, I'm really not sure why Orihime went along with this instead of trying to get help (besides her obvious feelings of isolation / depression + plot requires she be the damsel in distress to kick-start the Hueco Mundo arc). (There's REASONING, I'm just not fully persuaded by it.) It feels a little overcomplicated for me on Aizen's end, especially when I haven't yet seen it be paired with any other charisma or compelling persuasion from Aizen, this supposed master manipulator, when Orihime has plenty of buttons to press besides fear.

"Soul Society is broken and doesn't care for the poor people on the outside." "The Gotei 13 are corrupt and will ungratefully turn on people like Ichigo and Rukia as soon as they're no longer useful." "Hollows are people too, aren't they? And the soul reapers don't bother trying to help the people who need them most." "The Soul King is a threat to us all and I'm the only one who can stop him." There are so many lies and half-truths that Aizen could tell! This could be a point in time to showcase how he got so many people to follow him besides spiritual strength, and him being apparently nice to a vulnerable Orihime would be genuinely eerie given what we saw / know happened to Momo.

And this "making the Gotei 13 think that Orihime left of her own choice" story decision could work if Aizen had done more to frame her! But the fact that the Captain Commander immediately makes this assumption with so little evidence makes him look incompetent, when there are so many people who could immediately vouch for her and for the fact that it's way more likely she's been forced into something bad. Of course, maybe the story's point is to make the Captain Commander look bad at reading situations! Rather than simply ruthless for dismissing Orihime as lost and irrelevant. That gets a slight pass, I guess, but it's really such a wild and insulting and unnecessary assumption.

I think what I would have preferred to happen is OPTION 1) Aizen or underling kidnaps Tatsuki first and uses Tatsuki to get to Orihime.

This would bring Tatsuki fully into this arc instead of sidelining her again. It would be a nice culmination to the secrecy straining her friendships with both Ichigo and Orihime, and a nice bop to Ichigo's nose for trying to protect everyone on his own and his utter failure communicating danger to his friends and family. We could have a lot of fun stuff with Orihime and Tatsuki trying to survive together in this place. It would give Orihime some fucking motivation that isn't just "trying to help Ichigo". It would allow Orihime to find her strength by protecting the friend she has always viewed as being tougher and more confident. I need more women in this show who aren't made of relentless boob jokes.

OPTION 2) I would have preferred it if Aizen had found some way to locate Orihime's brother, Sora, and kidnapped him from Soul Society to use against her.

Aizen is supposedly a genius. It would track with the rest of the story if he could invent this technology. It would make the Gotei 13 look really bad if they have a way of helping families reconnect in the afterlife and just don't bother; and it would look really bad for them if Soul Society had utterly failed to be a safe place for Orihime's loved one. If Aizen is interested in Orihime's powers, he would probably be interested in seeing if her brother has any similar potential.

Option 2a is that Sora could be a regular plus soul and remembers Orihime. Aizen could have been experimenting on him and could be threatening to continue experimenting on Sora. Maybe being a regular plus soul in Hueco Mundo without the protection of a soul reaper's cultivation energy is dangerous. The air is toxic to him. He'll undergo hollowficafion again without special medicine from Aizen / Aizen's experiments keeping him as a normal plus soul, and he's terrified of becoming that monster again. Aizen coaxes Orihime to help him by claiming he's trying to find a way to cure hollowfication forever, so that Sora will be safe.

Option 2b is that Sora has no memories of Orihime or they've been suppressed, and Aizen has turned Sora into an Arrancar. Aizen claims that Sora was left vulnerable and starving on the outskirts of the Soul Society, abandoned to become a hollow again, or attacked by a hollow and transformed. Aizen has now used the Hogyoku to take Sora back to a mostly human state and given him Arrancar powers to "protect himself". Sora is grateful to Aizen for having saved him and as loyal as Ulquiorra. Aizen asks Orihime if she's prepared to fight her own brother. Doesn't she want to help him help Sora?

Honestly, I dig Ulquiorra so far and I'd like to keep him (he and Sora could have a weird not-twins thing going on), but you could totally replace his role in the story with Arrancar Sora and then put Orihime through the ringer torn between Ichigo and Sora. It feels so, SO weird to me that Orihime's dead brother never comes up again in this show about dead people and the story barely treats it as relevant.

OPTION 3) is that you bring both Tatsuki and Sora into it! Why not? Have amnesiac Arrancar Sora kidnap Tatsuki while Ulquiorra ambushes Orihime! Have Aizen threatening to turn both Tatsuki and plus soul Sora into hollows if Orihime doesn't cooperate!

I am feeling desperate for Orihime to have anything in her life again that is not her love for Ichigo. They don't have chemistry! The story is not taking the time to develop chemistry and bonding and partnership between them! Ichigo barely seems to remember she exists half the time.

Side note: I can barely fucking believe that Ichigo went off to train with the Visored without telling his family that he was leaving or where he would be. That's not a great sign for good mental health or healthy relationships! Which is probably (hopefully) the point! He could be dead in any alleyway for all his baby sisters know. That's not good big brother behavior! Ichigo has a real problem with not trusting anyone else to protect everyone (not without reason!), including not trusting his loved ones to protect themselves, and I'm not certain yet whether or not the story actually thinks this is a real problem and intends to have Ichigo fix his communication bullshit.

There is so much good, bloody material here if the story was genuinely willing to dig into the mess and make it hurt good. Instead, I'm watching Nel and her little hollow buddies do their fairly repetitive hijinks and Ichigo fight random nobodies who will not be meaningful to the story later. When Rukia finally ran into Aaroneiro pretending to be Kaien, I was like, "Oh, thank fuck, something with SOME emotional weight and compelling psychological turmoil again."

[happilysmythe]

❥ 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙧

trent frederic.

word count: 5.0k

warning: explicit content

"can you blow my mind?" — tyla

A/N: i recently received a request for trent and a leafs fan. i was given creative freedom and this is what i came up with. hope you like it, nonny <3

- - -

Bruins win Game 7 in OT.

The headlines came out at a rapid rate, informing the rest of the world that the Boston Bruins made it out of the first round and turned the Toronto Maple Leafs into mulch. Again.

Trent Frederic, along with a few teammates, were on too much of a high to return to their rooms at the hotel they’d been staying in just yet. Though they were home in Boston, coach Jim Montgomery thought it would be smarter to have the guys stay in a hotel instead of going back to their homes and apartments. Team bonding, he said.

The bunch set off for the bar inside the hotel, only a few blocks away from TD Garden, waiting a few hours before slipping in nonchalantly. They weren’t trying to get outed too fast, and they usually didn’t. Even once they were recognized, not much came of it. Most people were too drunk by then to make a scene, anyway.

So they sat down at the bar and ordered a few beers, celebrating accordingly and talking amongst themselves. They would finally let loose for just a night before the inevitable start of round 2 in just two days. They’d be having practice the next morning and flying down to Sunrise, Florida to face the Panthers, who were on their extensive break after knocking the Lightning in just 5 games.

Trent decided he’d had enough after his fourth beer, so he left his share and stood up to make his way out. As he turned around, his body hit something with a thud. He looked down and saw what it was that he came into contact with; a thin blonde woman with her arms out, jaw slack, and an empty hand that once held her drink.

Oh, and a Maple Leafs jersey.

“Oh, shit,” Trent muttered, compressing his lips.

You scoffed, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I can get you a new one.”

You looked up, a look of guilt on your face as your hands fell back down to your sides. “Shit, I’m sorry. I should’ve been looking where I was going, too—”

You paused.

“Where do I know you?”

He remained silent, shooting you a look as if to tell you that it should be obvious. It wasn’t long before your face dropped and it hit you. He suppressed a grin at your realization and parted his lips to speak.

“Name’s Trent,” he spoke smoothly, “but something tells me you already figured that out.”

“Well, you’re one of the last people I’d like to see right now,” you rolled your eyes, arms folded. “What’s a guy like you doing at some random bar at,” you looked at your watch, “12 in the morning after the game where you just knocked my team out of the playoffs?”

“Had to celebrate somehow,” he winked.

“Oh, god,” you grimaced. “I really do hate you guys.”

“Well, aren’t you a little ray of sunshine,” he laughed, putting his abnormally large hands on his hips. Your eyes subtly followed their path.

“Lighten up,” he teased. “C’mon. What’s your name? I know you’re not a,” he pinched the fabric of your jersey and pulled it to see the numbers, “Marner. Unless you’re into that sort of thing.”

You sighed at his remark and told him your name, but he made a face afterward.

“Too long.”

“Too long?”

“I think I’ll stick to Marner,” he told you, much to your dismay.

“Gross,” you replied irritatedly. “I don’t particularly feel like giving you the privilege of using a nickname. Just use my real name like everyone else. ”

“I’m all set, actually. I think I’ll stick to mine.”

“God, you’re annoying.”

“You gonna let me buy your drink or keep bitching about who I am?”

“Fine,” you sighed, “buy me the damn drink.”

He and you made your way to the other side of the bar, far enough away from the rest of the guys and the few friends you went with that you wouldn’t be noticed. You sat next to each other on the bar stools, Trent talking your ear off and you reluctantly replying with mostly one-word responses.

“You can’t be that angry with me,” he finally spoke, breaking another silence. “I’m not the whole team, you know.”

“I can and I will,” you shrugged, sipping your almost-empty drink.

“If you won’t talk, then I’ll just have to make you talk.”

He put his elbows down on the table and turned his head to face you, “Why’d you decide to come out in public after that game? I wouldn’t have even bothered to show my face in a bar wearing that. You here with other people or something?”

“I came with a couple of friends.”

“Doesn’t answer my first question.”

You looked down. “They wanted to come down here. I told them it was probably a bad idea because of the fact that we’re, you know, Leafs fans. They did it anyway so I just tagged along.”

“Bet you didn’t expect to run into me,” he nudged you with his shoulder, bringing a faint smile to your lips. “There you go,” he teased when he noticed your expression. “See? I’m not so bad.”

“Fraternizing with the enemy is a bad look for a woman like me,” you retorted, a playful undertone to your words. It was uncharacteristic compared to the closed-off manner you had with every other response. You wouldn’t admit that, however.

“Oh, she jokes,” he took the final sip of the drink he’d bought himself upon sitting with you, even after deciding he’d had his last beforehand.

“Shut up, Frederic.”

“We’ve regressed to my last name now? Can’t even call me by my first?”

“But you won’t use mine at all,” you rolled your eyes, “Trent.”

You looked at him for maybe a tad longer than you should’ve, eyes slowly moving down his body. He wore a white collared shirt that hugged his arms and gray dress pants that looked awfully tight around his thighs. You couldn’t help but notice the facial hair he’d grown since the start of the round, giving him a gingery mustache with a somewhat patchy beard. You’d seen what he looked like before that and were undoubtedly intrigued by it, regardless of whatever grudges you held against him. But you couldn’t let him know that.

So you turned to face the television above the bar, watching the commercial in a quiet trance as if nothing happened.

“Hey,” he tapped his finger on the bartop, diverting your attention back to him. “Tell me something,” he softly requested as you looked back, adjusting his body to face yours. “Why did you let me buy you the new drink if you weren’t going to talk to me, hm?”

You swallowed, “I wasn’t going to be rude.”

“The real reason,” he pressed.

“There is no real reason.”

“Alright,” he nodded, “so why were you staring at me before?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He lowered his voice and brought his face just slightly closer, a faint grin tugging at his lips. “You’re not a very good liar, you know that?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. I mean,” he laughed, shrugging his shoulders, “unless I didn’t see you looking for a while there. But I’m pretty sure I know what I saw.”

“Just…just shut up, Trent, alright?”

“Sounds like I hit a nerve,” he noted and you rolled your eyes. “You know, you’re cute when you’re irritable.”

His grin widened when you shook your head again, promptly informing him of how annoying he was once again. “But if I’m really being honest here,” he lifted his fingers and gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, “I think you’re pretty.”

At this, your hardened exterior softened. Your head turned just slightly so that he was in your field of view and you sighed gently. “Thanks.”

“Mhm.”

“I, um,” you cleared your throat, taking a breath, “I was looking before.”

“I know,” he softly responded, hand slipping down until his palm rested on your thigh. Initially, you flinched at the contact, but your muscles relaxed when you realized it was a warm gesture rather than one with malicious intent.

“You don’t have to be so cold,” he told you. “No matter who I play for, I’m just a guy.”

You were more attracted to him than you wanted to let on, and it surely didn’t help that he was being nicer to you. You suppressed a smile and faced him fully.

“It’s not that, it’s—it’s the point,” you flatly responded.

“You can look at me again,” he teased, thumb rubbing your thigh. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Don’t count on it.”

Your gaze lingered on him again, eyes flitting down to his lips before you looked away. It wasn’t hard for him to see through you—after all, you allowed him to keep his hand where it was, even after refuting his words. He took notice of your wandering eyes and finally pieced it together.

“Like the new look, eh?”

Your brows furrowed and you swallowed, “What new look…?”

“I think you know what I’m talking about,” he replied with certainty. “You have a thing for the scruff?”

“Please. I don’t even know what you looked like before that,” you lied, taking an unsteady breath.

“Doesn’t change that you were looking at it, does it?”

“Well…” you trailed off, lips parted as you tried to think up an excuse. “No,” you finally gave up, letting your head hang down. “It doesn’t, because I have seen you before and I do have a thing for it. For you,” you shook your head, laughing at the reality of how weak you truly were. How stupid you must have looked to him. “So tease me all you want, say that you told me so—you’re right.”

A ringed finger slipped under your chin and tilted your head toward him, his face mere inches away from yours.

“I’m not going to tease you.”

You swallowed, expression falling as your eyes locked with his. They were brown, you noticed. And they were…warm. They largely contrasted how he looked at you previously. It brought you to an entranced sort of state.

His touch was soft, comforting. But in a way that made you want him more. Caused your mind to wander to places you knew it shouldn’t have gone. It felt good. Really good.

And you had no business wondering what the rest of him would feel like on you.

“Where are you staying?” you blurted out.

“Upstairs.”

“Take me,” the words left your mouth before you could protest.

An eyebrow raised and his grin turned to a smile. “Gladly,” he whispered, lowering his hand and standing up.

He held his hand out and you hesitantly took it, allowing him to discreetly walk you toward the exit of the bar. You ducked when you saw your friends, praying that by some miracle they didn’t see you walk out with Trent Frederic.

“Trent,” you whispered, clutching onto him harder now that you couldn’t be hidden by the darkness of the bar any longer. “What if someone saw?”

“You would’ve known by now. Trust me,” he reassured you as the elevator doors slid open. You walked in and the doors shut, enclosing you in the small space. “And if anyone did,” he started, fingers brushing against the nape of your neck, “it’s none of their business, anyway.”

“Mhm,” you agreed softly, eyes beginning to close when you felt his warm breath on your neck.

“See? Not so hard to agree, is it?”

“Mm…no…”

He laughed softly in your ear and pressed a tiny kiss to the skin behind it. He intricately placed a few more on the exposed skin, prompting a faint hum from your lips as the doors slid back open. His hand found its place on your waist as he gently pushed you out, guiding you down the hallway and finally stopping in front of his door.

By now, you’d become urgent—urgent to feel his lips on yours no matter how much you told yourself it was a stupid idea. You lived in Toronto; a whopping 500 miles away. And he played for Boston, the team you hated with a passion so strong that you vowed to never let yourself be endeared by them. Yet there you were, standing next to the forward who contributed to your favorite team’s loss, wanting nothing more than for him to make you feel oh, so good.

And he would.

The door clicked open and he pushed the lever down, stepping aside to let you in. He was quick to pin you to the door with his body, arm coming up behind your head to lock it and toss the room card to the side.

“I can’t believe I let you charm me.”

“What can I say,” he rasped, leaning in closer, “I know how to get a girl in my room.”

His lips finally connected with yours and you immediately reciprocated, hand flattening against his chest and gripping the material of his shirt. You pulled him closer, slipping your free hand around his neck before tilting your head to deepen the kiss. The hair above his lips rubbed against your skin, the feeling eliciting a faint hum from your mouth into his. He grinned at this and hooked his fingers under the blue jersey you wore, pulling away promptly and carefully lifting it up.

“Taking this shit off,” he mumbled, pulling the fabric over your head and discarding it to the floor. “You’d look much better with mine.”

You rolled your eyes, “Not going to happen, Trent.”

“We’ll see,” he grinned, moving his lips to your neck and marking up the skin, drawing whimpers from your mouth.

Your hand snaked into his hair, fingers threading between the dusty ginger strands as you pushed his head closer. He kissed up to your jaw, sliding his hand up to your neck, the other placed on the bare skin of your hip. His fingers pressed into the nape of your neck and his thumb rested just under your chin, hand pressing the back of your head against the door as his lips kissed a path down your jawline.

“Shit,” you moaned breathily, reaching for the buttons on his shirt as his mouth returned to yours hungrily.

You worked your way down, the material of his shirt parting and exposing his skin as each button fell open. His tongue slipped between your lips, grazing your teeth before rolling over yours languidly. Soft fingers untucked his open shirt from his pants and began to trace his stomach, moving slowly up to his firm chest. The action caused the large hand around your neck to tighten its hold, prying a moan from your throat.

“Didn’t know,” you panted, “—didn’t know you wore a chain.”

“Like it, mm?”

The way he grinned down at you brought a lump to your throat. He made you nervous. Weak, even. And the height at which he stood compared to you surely didn’t help. So you nodded curtly in response, hoping he’d take the hint and not press you further.

But he took it and instead removed his hand from your neck to slide it down and meet the other at your lower back, promptly hoisting you up. Your hands moved to his face and held it while you continued to kiss him, him walking the two of you away from the door and in the direction of the bed. You kicked your shoes off just as he grabbed a towel from the rack on the wall outside the bathroom and laid it lazily atop the sheets. He then lowered you onto your back and let go, allowing you to lie comfortably on the bed as he remained on his knees in front of you.

He quickly shed himself of the torn-open shirt and tossed it toward the empty bed on the other side of the room. His body soon hovered over yours, an arm on the bed on each side of your head as he kissed you again. His lips moved to your neck once again, working the skin until soft moans slipped through your parted ones.

“Trent,” you exhaled, chest rising and falling deeply, “isn’t…isn’t someone else staying here with you? There’s—mm—two beds.”

“There was,” he mumbled into your skin, moving down to your collarbones.

“So couldn’t we get—”

“Was,” he repeated. “He already went home to his girlfriend. And I have both room keys.” He chuckled softly and reached around your back to unclasp your bra, the fabric coming loose on your chest. “So relax.”

You nodded and lifted your arms for him to pull it off, him letting it fall from his hand before kissing a path down the valley of your chest. His body moved down as he continued down to your stomach, then to your waist where his fingers hooked in your pants and slid them down your legs.

You kicked them off and opened your legs, allowing Trent to slip between them. He gently kissed your inner thigh, slowly working his way up until he reached the lacy fabric that covered your skin. He looked up, making and not breaking eye contact with you as he took the waistband between his teeth and tugged the fabric slowly down your legs. As he rose upwards, they and your pants were dropped to the floor.

Warm breath fanned the skin between your aching thighs, awaiting his touch oh, so impatiently. His fingers brushed the area, dragging themselves slowly up and down. His eyes flitted up to you, a faint grin playing on his lips before focusing back down.

“God, you’re wet,” he rasped, leaning down and settling his face between your thighs, your legs atop his shoulders. His hands wrapped around your outer thighs and gripped them, pulling you in promptly.

“Especially for someone who claims to hate me so much.”

You rolled your eyes and groaned, “Think that’ll make me like you any more?”

“No, but maybe this will.”

With that, his mouth wrapped around your clit, tongue swirling around and eliciting a gasp of shock from your parted lips. Your eyes widened as he sucked gently, hands kneading the warm flesh of your thighs.

He then trailed downward, planting small, light kisses on the sensitive flesh, all before his tongue carefully parted your folds and delved slowly inside. Your fingers gingerly threaded into his strands, palm flattening itself on the back of his head as you pushed him down, your body weak with the need for more friction.

The hair that had recently grown above his lips brushed against your skin, rubbing back and forth forcefully and bringing meaning to the term, ‘hurts so good.’

“God, fuck,” you groaned, hands tenaciously gripping the sheets and his curls as his tongue moved in a rhythm that was just enough to make you long for more.

He lapped at you mercilessly, expert movements of his tongue coaxing soft moans from your mouth. A cocky grin stretched across his lips as he brought you to the brink, then pulled away, forcing a whimper from you at the loss of contact.

A large hand was removed from your thigh and brought between your legs, knuckles once again dragging lazily along the sensitive, needy skin, but refusing to give you the satisfaction of doing what you wanted most. He was teasing you; punishing you for the way in which you treated him earlier without giving him as much as a chance to prove himself.

“Trent,” you whined impatiently, hips writhing involuntarily against his bearded face.

“Mm…what?”

You refused to admit the irrevocable attraction you had to him because you didn’t want to let him win. And now he was being a bitch to you, just like you were to him. He chuckled softly and pressed the tip of his finger to your entrance, allowing you to feel the small bit of pressure that came with it. 

“Please,” you whimpered, fingers tightening in his curls.

Enough was enough and he pushed the finger in, drawing a moan from your lips before adding another and thrusting them in and out with no room for complaint. The cold metal of his ring brushed against your sensitive inner walls and you gasped at the initial contact, your rampant mind having forgotten about the jewelry to begin with. And deep down, you loved it.

His mouth returned to your skin, tongue licking small stripes on the mound of flesh above his fingers, the scruff on his chin rubbing roughly against it. You knew you were going to have burns on your skin caused by his facial hair but you didn’t care; you just wanted to keep feeling him.

“Trent, don’t stop.”

He laughed quietly and sped up the pace of his fingers, urging you even closer to the edge. Your thighs closed in around his head, hand still pushing his head down. He hummed in satisfaction, the noise vibrating against your skin as he felt you clench around his long fingers.

His lips sucked on your clit in a steady pattern, causing your release to rip through you, prying a moan from deep within your stomach. You fisted the sheets tighter as your hips writhed against his face and fingers, legs beginning to shake from the pressure. Trent continued to work you through it, tongue lapping up the wetness that accumulated until you sunk back down into the mattress, spent.

Slowly he removed his fingers, first bringing them to his lips to lick them clean before rising back up. You inched backward on the bed until your head pressed against the pillow, Trent following and planting himself on his knees between your legs. His fingers reached down and fumbled with the buckle on his belt, eyes never leaving your body in the process. It wasn’t long before his belt haphazardly hit the floor, then his pants and his painfully hard cock was freed from its constraints. A rough palm placed itself on your knee, rubbing it slowly.

“Trent,” you swallowed, drawing his attention back up to your face. “Con—”

He raised his hand to cut you off, a gold wrapper resting comfortably between his index and middle fingers. The action having rendered you silent, he promptly took the foil between his teeth and pulled, spitting out the excess before taking out the latex and rolling it onto himself. You soon felt the pressure of him at your entrance, legs subconsciously widening to let him slip between them further, then heard the sound of him groaning as he pushed into you.

You swore it was the sexiest thing you’d ever heard.

He leaned forward slowly, giving you just a moment’s time to adjust to his size as he stretched you out. Your breaths were unsteady, eyes screwed shut as your fingers maintained their forceful grip on the sheets around you. Your mind was racing, but you knew one thing for certain—the man was about to fucking blow it. His body hovered above yours as he kissed a path from your stomach up to your neck, hands pressing into the mattress on each side of you.

“Where did you,” you breathed, “get that?”

“Pocket,” he rasped, mustache brushing against your neck.

Eyes wide, you responded, “That’s not—”

“Relax,” he mumbled, the corners of his lips slightly upturned. “I put it in there today.”

Then you impatiently lifted a hand to the back of his head and pushed his lips onto yours, kissing him urgently and wordlessly telling him to just move. He obeyed your silent command and pushed his hips into yours, burying his dick into you before pulling back, leaving only the tip inside. He repeated the process at a steady, slow rhythm—tortuously slow, at that—until your back was arching, hand in his hair sliding down to his shoulder blade as the long, coffin-shaped nails dug into his soft skin. The chain that you’d noticed earlier tapped against your cheek, the feeling provoking you to throw your head back against the pillow.

His hand slid up your front, fingers curling around to the nape of your neck and thumb resting under your chin once again, pulling your head back up as he quickened his pace, driving into you with more force. Every inch of his thick cock slid smoothly along your velvety walls, your mouth frozen in its open state as his lips worked at your neck again. And god, you just couldn’t understand what made you hate that guy in the first place. It must have slipped your mind completely.

Upon the first thrust of his hips, he felt just how tight you enveloped him. The immense pressure of you wrapped around his strained length, practically squeezing it. The age-old trick of conjuring up the most repulsive of thoughts seemed nothing but moronic to him in the past, yet for some reason he found himself naming off presidents in his head to prevent from coming so fucking soon. He only wished that he could feel it; really feel it, if it weren’t for that godforsaken rubber that separated him from you.

And he’d make it his mission to do so, whether you lived five hundred miles away or not.

He just hoped he’d last when he finally did.

The hand around your throat closed just slightly, using just enough pressure to threaten your intake of breath without causing any pain. It was delicious. You didn’t have the will to fight it—your body had already submitted to him long before, and there wasn’t much that you could focus on other than the feeling of him roughly thrusting into you, lips marking up one side of your neck while his hand firmly gripped the other.

The sounds of your mixed moans bounced off of the walls and you began to wonder whether anyone could hear it or not; if any of his teammates were close by, walking back to their rooms from the bar. The thought instilled enough fear for you to weakly voice it.

“What if—ah—what if someone hears us?”

“Let them,” he rasped, kissing behind your ear.

“But—”

“God, shut up,” he pushed his lips to yours, swallowing your words, moans, and expletives that threatened to destroy your mediocre attempt to stay quiet. His tongue rolled over yours, low hums reverberating in your mouth and filling your ears.

Finally, he released his hold from your neck, allowing the air to flow smoothly into your lungs once more. The hand reached for yours, roughly threading his fingers between yours before pushing the two forward and pinning the back of your hand to the headboard behind you. You let out a whimper at the sudden contact but quickly gripped his hand with a matching force to his as he hit the sweet spot inside you and a familiar pit in your stomach formed.

“Close,” you panted, back arching off of the bed and forcing your front to press firmly into his.

“I know,” he told you, grip tightening as the taut line in your stomach snapped.

His mouth enveloped yours again to swallow your noises, tongue swiping against your bottom lip. Your inner walls constricted around his length as you hit your climax, nails digging into his back as you grasped desperately at him for stability, support—any sort of strength that he could provide you with. And he did, grunting sporadically as he fucked you through your second orgasm, thrusts growing sloppier.

It wasn’t long before he twitched inside you, hitting his own peak and letting out a deep moan. Your name—to your surprise—left his lips in a slurred form, repeating it softly as if it were a hymn. Sweat coated your forehead, droplets dripping slowly down your face, and the frontward strands of your hair had grown wet. His curls dripped with his own sweat as his lips hovered just centimeters above yours, warm breath fanning your face and gaze aligning with yours.

You finally swallowed, “Wow.”

“Mm,” he hummed, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, hand letting go of yours and gently running up and down your side.

He waited a moment and carefully pulled out, the action drawing your eyes shut before he slipped off the used latex and disposed of it. You adjusted yourself as he did so, ridding the bed of the towel and briefly cleaning yourself up before you felt a piece of fabric hit your arm. You looked down to see a large, black t-shirt on the bed and grabbed it, quickly slipping it on as he walked back over. He motioned you under the sheets and you silently obliged.

Your back pressed against his chest, chain pressing into the skin as an arm wrapped around you and a hand flattened on your stomach. His other fingers pushed your hair to the side, exposing the skin to his eyes, and he saw the faint marks his fingers left on your neck. A pair of lips brushed against your ear and the soft rasp of his voice returned.

“You know, that’s a Bruins shirt,” he teased, scruff grazing your damp skin as his lips connected with your shoulder.

“Mhm,” you flatly responded.

“Going against your word pretty fast, eh?”

“Yeah, well,” you started, nuzzling back into him. “I told you I hated you and ended up in your bed, so,” you turned to him slightly, “unreliable source.”

He chuckled softly and brought his fingers up to brush your hair back, pressing a light kiss to your cheek. “Night, Marner.”

“Shut up,” you mumbled, and he laughed one final time before closing his eyes and relaxing into you.

So, against everything that you stood for just hours before, you fell asleep in Trent Frederic’s arms without much forethought. In his shirt and his bed, effectively leaving your friends behind because they’d for some odd reason just slipped your mind completely.

And when Trent woke up the next morning, he was no longer in your company, much to his dismay. Any trace of your presence the night before had perished, down to the towel on the floor. But there was one thing—one saving grace that caught his eye as he scanned the room.

A piece of paper on the nightstand with a phone number scribbled on it and a small note below it that read,

“For the next time you’re in Toronto.”

[pennylanefics]

Coffee-To-Go - Jack Drury

a/n: i wrote this rather quickly and it's meh. i'm not doing all the best mentally but i wanted to write :) gonna try to write more after the baseball game tonight !

summary: while getting coffee one day, you run into your ex boyfriend after successfully avoiding him for the past few months

word count: ~1.1k

Things have been a bit rough lately, though, even that is an understatement. You were let go from your job around the same time that things between you and Jack went all wrong, and you felt like everything in the universe was against you at this point.

You were living in your apartment alone now, Jack having taken all of his things back to Jarvy’s place, where he was living before he moved in with you, since you’ve been dating for almost two years and it felt right at the time.

Jack was the one for you. He was the guy you thought you were going to marry, he was perfect, the love of your life. But a stupid fight over something that didn’t matter led to the both of you saying very hurtful things that you didn’t really mean, opening up some past wounds that shouldn’t have been opened. In turn, that led to the demise of your relationship, Jack moving out of your place, and avoiding you at all costs around the city.

It didn’t help that you lived within the same area and often frequented the same places, as much as you tried to limit your time around the city during the off-season, you sometimes saw him across the way, and always walk in the opposite direction. Today, though, your apartment was far too quiet and it was starting to get to you, so you decide to take a stroll around the city, enjoying the nice fall weather that finally started to settle in.

You park in a parking garage near your favorite coffee shop and slowly make your way there, ready to sit down and have a snack, to then stare out the window and people watch. The smell of the shop hits you as you walk in, sweet pastries mixed with the hearty scent of coffee grounds; its a comforting aroma and exactly the therapy you needed today.

But things take a turn when you see Jack just as you are ordering your drink. Being so thrown off, the barista stares at you in confusion, however you are so lost in the sight of your former lover. You take in his blond hair that still looks the same since you last remember. He’s shaved his facial hair recently, his features soft and relaxed as he reads his book in peace.

“Ma’am?” A voice breaks you out of your daze, unfortunately it catches Jack’s attention as well. His head shoots up and his bright blue eyes land on yours, his face falling when he sees you for the first time in months. “Would you like it here or to go?”

You finally turn back to the lady and softly apologize.

“To go, please,” you murmur, trying to look everywhere but where Jack sits. You quickly pay and go to stand over by the counter where they hand drinks out. You mess around on your phone, but you feel a pair of eyes on you the entire time, and you knew it was none other than Jack.

Thankfully, your name was called, leading you to grab your drink and pastry and rush out of the shop, your heart racing in your chest. Walking far away, you find a little park bench near a small mandmade lake and take a seat, closing your eyes and catching your breath.

You were not expecting to see him, you’ve done so well avoiding him as much as you could up until this point, and now everything came crashing back down. The memories you shared together, from attending weddings and other events to having date nights in your apartment or Seth’s place when he was out. How his lips and hands felt against you as he kissed you with so much passion, it made your head spin every time.

“(Y/N),” a voice calls out to you. Turning around, you see Jack heading towards you, his book tucked in his hand, his other stuffed in the pocket of his jeans. Your breath catches in your throat and you turn back around to face the water, allowing him to come and take a seat next to you.

It’s silent for a few moments as you adjust to being so close to him again.

“How have you been?” He asks, though he knows it’s most likely not the right question to ask right now.

“Rough,” you answer him honestly, taking a sip of your iced coffee. Jack nods and sighs awkwardly.

“Um, I want to apologize for my part in the way things went down,” he speaks up again not too long after. Your head turns to him and you wait for him to continue. “It was wrong of me to say those things and I instantly regretted them the second they left my mouth.”

You listen to his apology and the sincerity in his tone. Gazing over at him, you offer him a small grin.

“And I’m sorry for my part in everything. I shouldn’t have gotten angry and retaliated. I should have handled it like an adult, and I didn’t.” Jack mirrors your smile and looks down at the ground for a moment.

“Seth told me that you no longer have a job,” he states, swallowing thickly, not knowing if he was crossing a line. Upon seeing the look on your face, he feels terrible. “It slipped out when he was rambling while drunk one night.”

“Can’t ever trust the kid, can you?” You giggle, shaking your head. This also makes Jack laugh, a sound you missed hearing, that sends your heart into a frenzy. “But yeah, I was let go shortly after…things ended between us,” you whisper, staring back forward, feeling lost in the moment.

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” he clears his throat. The tension was thick between the two of you, and after a few more moments of silence hanging over you, he breaks it. “I miss you.”

Your head raises and whips to look at Jack, surprised by his sudden confession. His eyes were focused on you, his eyebrows furrowed together slightly in distress, it seems like.

“I miss you too,” you whisper, not even second guessing the words that slip from your mouth. As you sit there and stare at one another, he looks down at your hand, wanting to reach out and hold it, but he knew his boundaries.

“Would you…would you maybe want to grab some dinner and catch up?” He wonders, his face scrunching up, bracing for rejection. But your response surprises him and sends his heart soaring.

“I’d love to, Jack,” you smile, your eyes flickering all over his features to gauge his reaction. He immediately lights up and blushes a little.

“Great! Well, uh, do you have any plans tonight? Or is that too soon?”

“Tonight would be wonderful. We can try that new restaurant that just opened up, they supposedly have really good sandwiches.”

“Sounds perfect,” he smiles widely as he stands up from the bench. “So, I’ll see you tonight.”

“Yeah, see you later, Jack. I’m looking forward to it.”

taglist: @petite-potato4

[theobsidianempress]

Being Neurodivergent in JJK

 OK let me explain a few things first I have ADHD officially diagnosed back in October. I have always wondered how my favorite characters would react to neurodivergent people in terms of like dating them.

Like in JJK I have three that I feel with probably do pretty well with the neurodivergent partner.

First on the list is Nanami Kento-

I feel like Nanami would probably deal with a neurodivergent partner with grace and patience, and actually become a safe space for you to unmask and be who you genuinely are. He would probably very likely be confused and concerned at some point in the process but then just learn that’s your neurodivergence and that’s just who they are.

Imagine this right-

You’re home alone, right? You’re bored and you have to read a book but you don’t want to read a book in silence and you don’t feel like going to find your headphones to listen to an audiobook. You decide to narrate a book to yourself. You decide to go way back to when you were a kid when your mom would read to you and she would do the voices and funny actions. Honestly, you don’t even realize you’re doing funny actions you’re just reading a book. you are so into this book you don’t hear Kento home.

He stands there by the front door. He’s hung up his jacket, taking off his shoes and he slowly walking towards you. Again- You are so into this book and this narration you got going on you don’t notice a fucking thing. So, finally you finish the chapter. You decide, “I’m done reading for the day.” You close the book put it down on the coffee table. Turn your head and you see him standing there with an amused smile on his face. You are also terrified. This man just saw you reading a book to yourself as if you were a toddler. Doing voices actions the whole 9 yards.

You stare at him as if he caught you stealing. (I mean you did steal his heart but that’s neither here nor there)

“That was the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.” He finally says.

Some how that DID NOT quell your embarrassment. It just made it worse. You are redder than red and hide your face behind a sofa pillow.

“Don’t say that!” You practically squeal into the pillow.

He comes over and sits next to you gently taking the pillow away. Your embarrassment has now morphed into shame.

“Oh sweetie, wipe that look off your face. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.” God he was so sweet to you.

“You just walked in on me reading to myself like a toddler. I mean I could see if I was babysitting a kid…” You turn your head further away.

Kento takes off his sunglasses and sets them on the coffee table next to your book.

“Sweetie, if reading like that makes it more fun for you - then do it.”

Your brows snapped together and you slowly raise your head to look at him. Not once has anyone told you that kind of behavior is okay. All of your exes called you ‘childish’, ‘weird’ and ‘fucking crazy’. They constantly made fun of you for reading aloud to the point you stopped. But this man… this man right here, sitting next to you just affirmed and validated you. Something no one has done until now.

You stared at him blinking back tears.

“If you want an audience, I’ll be your audience. You can read like that to me any day.” He picked up the book from the table, “Though I am going to need a recap.” He takes a large hand wipes away your budding tears.

“What did I do to deserve you?” You ask nuzzling his hand.

Second is Toji -

So Toji could go one of two ways - he’s either completely OK with it or he isn’t.

It’s like this right- you forget he’s home. He’s just hanging out in another room playing video games or something. So forgetting he’s home you just start being weird. Singing random songs reciting random movie quotes. Dancing as if you have no rhythm. Just whatever your little neurodivergent brain wants at the moment. And then you turn around to see him staring at you very fucking confused.

“What the fuck was that just now?” He says confused and slightly amused.

“When the fuck did you get here?” You ask just as confused and slightly terrified that you’ve scared him off.

“I haven’t left. I’ve been playing video games.” He replies.

Now this is where it can go one of two ways:

1) “I see…” you nod your head, “Well now I’m gonna have to kill you because I can’t have you telling people about what you just saw. You know too much.” You say this with a serious look.

Toji stands there for a split second then just laughs, “Yeah, okay. I’d love to see you try, doll.” He strides over and gives ya a lil kiss.

You make a happy squeak before going back to whatever it was that you were doing.

“Sides, I don’t go around tellin people my business anyway. So, your weirdo secret is safe with me.”

2) “Nope.” He puts his hands up like he’s being held up, “I learned my lesson on stickin’ my dick in crazy. Nope.”

And he nopes out of the relationship faster than he came into it.

Gotta save the strongest for last Gojo Satoru-

I don’t care what the fuck anyone tells me you cannot tell me he does not have some form of ADHD. I don’t care what you say. This relationship would be so chaotic and so funny. Because I feel like he would also quote random movies and TV shows and you just join in and then if and when Yuji is around, he would also do the same thing and vice versa.

Imagine this right-

Y’all are at home making dinner together for the kids. They’re watching a movie upstairs so they hear none of this start.

You’re chopping carrots and they remind you of little legs…

“Run, run, run as fast as you can! You can’t catch me; I’m the gingerbread man!” You say mockingly as you continue to chop the carrots.

On cue, Satoru turns to you with dramatic flair, “You’re a monster!”

It just devolves from there. You two finally get to the part of the scene where Gingy goes, “Do you know the muffin man?”

“The muffin man!?” You ask dramatically.

But before Satoru can say the line the two of you hear from the hall way, “THE MUFFIN MAN!” In the shrillest voice.

It was Yuji who came down to see how dinner was going.

The three of you just stare at each other for a second before bursting out in laughter. It takes like a good three minutes to recover and get back to making dinner but god was that funny.

Honestly,I wasn’t really expecting this to be my first real post but I just found it really funny I mean feel free to comment, re-blog and add whatever. Or hey tell me that my head cannon is stupid and none of this would actually fucking happen. Either way I just thought this was funny and needed to put it somewhere.

Also, please note I am sleep deprived. I got zero sleep last night. It’s also that time of the month for me ladies so with all of that being said, thank you so much for reading this if you read it. if you didn’t - have a good day.

Remember- you are loved, worthy, and valid.

[aquagirl1978]

Meet my OC: Ava (IkeVil)

Name: Ava Paired with: William Rex Relationship: romantic Age: 24 Hair Color: black Eye Color: sapphire blue Birth Sign: Aquarius

Early Life

Ava grew up in a small, but close family. She was the only child, her mother managed the house, while her father worked as a solicitor at a prominent firm. Life was comfortable for Ava, her parents doted on her and provided her with all she needed. Despite being an only child, she had a good number of friends in school and thrived while learning.

As she advanced in her education, Ava grew bored with her subjects. But she never once complained or sought other enrichment - this was simply the way of life for her, so she went along with everything with a smile on her face. She learned by example, as her mother displayed the same behavior at home. One could call the two of them people pleasers.

When Ava was a young teen, her mother passed away from a sudden illness. Ava took over the role of her mother, taking care of the house and making sure her father was happy at home. She cooked his favorite meals which they shared only when he returned home after work. Occasionally, her father would take her out to the city for dinner or a show - always his choice of where to go. Again, life was comfortable for Ava, if perhaps a bit rigid.

Following in the footsteps of the other girls her age in her neighborhood, Ava met a boy and they soon began dating. He was nice enough, she supposed. Her father approved of him, and he was set to take over the family business. Ava's entire future was mapped out for her - what could go wrong?

It happened while they were on a date. Everything was going fine until it wasn't. He took her hand in his and told her he met someone else and had to end things with her. Ava couldn't understand why this was happening to her, she did everything she was supposed to.

Before she could sink into darkness, Ava went to her father and begged him to let her work in his office. Typing contracts, greeting clients, cleaning the office - she was willing to do anything to get her out of the house. While it was unorthodox for a woman of her class to ask to work, she knew if she stayed home, she would simply dwell on the fact that she was not good enough and it would eat her alive. If she had this job, even if performing the most menial of tasks, she could do something to help ease her father's workload. And that was better than doing nothing.

Her father said no at first, but after much insistence, he gave in. Just a few hours a week, he made her promise. The tasks were simple, but seeing how proud her father was whenever she completed one filled her with a sense of purpose. She lost her boyfriend, but she had this.

Growing up with a father who was a solicitor, Ava had a strong sense of what was right and what was wrong. Oftentimes at work, her father would talk to her about some of the high-profile cases that made the newspapers. Justice always prevails, he would tell her. And to Ava, her father was on the side of justice.

One night, her father asked her for a favor - a client was unable to come pick up some documents, could Ava hand deliver them? This was out of the scope of duties she normally performed, but these documents needed to be executed immediately. If it wasn't so urgent, he wouldn't be asking her. She took the envelope from him, happy to assist.

He scribbled down the address and said good-bye, knowing it would likely be the last time he saw his daughter.

Meeting Crown

I could be nice and tell you now how everyone met (hint, it's very similar to what happens in game, but with some changes). But as I started typing it, it started turning into something longer than this should be. So I'll save all that for a later fic.

On that note, I do welcome any and all asks about her, about her relationship with William and anyone else in Crown. I will be reblogging OC ask games moving forward - always feel free to ask about her. I also have an OC for IkePri, you may also always ask about her as well.

[ikamigami]

My thoughts on Eclipse

I understand that not everyone has to agree with me on this for various reasons. Also I'm not trying to condone Eclipse's abuse or bad actions. None of the things Eclipse went through justify the awful things he did - which I think that new version of Eclipse is aware of.

I think that OG Eclipse wanted to be better than Old Moon - better as a brother hence why the first thing he wanted to do upon meeting Lunar for the first time was to hug him.

Lunar ignored Eclipse then because he had games - this action hurt Eclipse so much because it reminded him of how it felt when he realized that he was abandoned by Old Moon.

I think that Eclipse was questioning why he slapped Lunar because he wanted to be better than Old Moon yet he did the exact same thing. But because he thinks that regret is a sign of weakness he decided to push these feelings away.

Also when Eclipse apologized - I think that Eclipse has a problem with sounding genuine when he apologizes because he doesn't want to seem weak so it results in the apology coming across as disingenuous.

I think that Eclipse didn't want to end up like Sun hence why he try so hard (too hard) to not be seen as weak.

Would OG Eclipse apologize to Lunar? I don't think so. Though I think that abusers can feel genuine remorse - Old Moon is good example of this yet he never apologized to Sun for all the shit he had done to him - and OG Eclipse is a parallel to Old Moon.

Also Old Moon also rarely apologized to Sun for his behaviour and even if he did it was coming across as disingenuous because he still continued to be abusive towards Sun.

We can argue if showrunners did a good job in showing that Eclipse cared but I digress because we see that now Eclipse is changing.

I think that Eclipse still was abusive towards Lunar more than that one slap. Lunar probably doesn't remember much things from that time in details due to trauma and death causing his memory issues.

I agree though that Lunar was too self-centered and that even if he saw exactly why Eclipse was the way he was he didn't do anything about it. Though it's dabatable if Lunar could've done more - it's not always that easy to say "yes" or "no" in these types of situation because it's not as "black and white" as people think.

Abuse in family is more often than not a very complicated matter.

I used to think that Eclipse is only manipulative and nothing more but I changed my mind upon seeing more of his perspective.

I sympathize with him but like I said I don't condone his actions and abuse. Though I don't want to force anyone to feel sympathy towards Eclipse. It's an individual thing.

Though like I said people are way dismissive to Old Moon's abuse towards Sun than to Eclipse's abuse towards Lunar.

Also Lunar doesn't have to forgive Eclipse and honestly I doubt that he will.

And slightly unrelated I like that new Eclipse is more understanding towards Sun hence why he tries to not be so mean to him and why he avoids him or at least that's what I think.

Slight rant under the cut

The only issue I have is that people were saying that they see that Eclipse cared and that he also suffers which turned out to be true later. Though majority of fans didn't see it like that at the time when it were just speculations.

But when I tried to explain that I see hints to Sun having depressive psychosis and being suicidal majority of fans didn't agree which is okay. But what's not okay is that some folks were bullying me for this and spreading lies about me.

And they say that show disproved my speculations about Sun with "Sun has a child" episode but the truth is that they not only didn't disprove anything which I already pointed out in my recent post about that episode but they also harmed not only me but also many other fans with mental issues as well by portraying Miku like that in that episode.

Also I don't like that people can freely relate to Eclipse and other characters but I apparently can't relate to Sun because I'll receive backlash for it.

I also don't like how Moon no matter old or new is always in the spotlight when Sun just gets mostly funny lore episodes.

Also I don't believe in Sun healing off-screen. And while I think that Sun is doing better compared to last year, I think that he's still not fine - he just either denies it or just tries not to worry others.

[gummi-ships]

Kingdom Hearts Dream Drop Distance - The Grid

[samgirard]

└ dakota joshua gets ekholm's stick stuck in his helmet | round two, game one: van vs. edm | 5.8.24

[computercreature]

ok so at first i thought this was to show how alphys is different in deltarune than undertale (at least to anyone who remembered her anime infodumps (me))

but other people have mentioned that this might be a metaphor for deltarune itself. so far it is more mature than undertale. it has more swearing, more soul removal, more… um… ice. but if we take this entire review to be a metaphor for utdr then i’m really wondering who this is about

asriel? papyrus? frisk and kris?

[goldensunset]

from one hot girl to another, the ultimate hot girl has traversed time and space

[silovsmenot]

Flowers from Ostrava | JJ Peterka

Requested by @creativewritersposts...

Maybe JJ Peterka x gf! reader. You're sad because you're for Latvia and Germany kicked their asses in the world championship. So he sends you a bunch of flowers and is cheesy to cheer you up because he can't be home?

WARNINGS: Unless you're as depressed about the LAT-GER game as we are, none at all. It's pure fluff, maybe some slightly suggestive bits but only implied if you think like I do. PAIRING: JJ Peterka x f!reader. NOTES: I didn't realise how cute this guy was until today. I might have missed some typos so please forgive me. WORD COUNT: 1165

The summer break had rolled around, and with Buffalo missing out on a playoff spot, you knew that JJ would be jetting off to Czechia for the IIHF World Championships. You tried and tried to get the time off work to go with him, but you had no luck — you’d have to watch from your home in Buffalo while he played in Ostrava.

You kissed him goodbye at the airport with promises of daily phone calls and text messages, for it would be the first big trip that he made without you since you first got together. You knew it would feel like an age as you watched his games from your couch, with only your dog to keep you company.

A few games had passed, you’d sat and watched everyone. You’d both made some playful bets on his games, those harmless ‘if i win, you do this’ sort of bets — things that you’d both pay up on when he returned. Though you were seriously down on your luck, as you’d lost them all to this point. And playful bets were turning a little more serious when it came to Latvia. They’d grown into a bit of a comfort team for you after last year, you didn’t quite know why but you did support them over the others — even Germany, much to JJ’s frustration but you both enjoyed the competition.

Just before 9am, you rolled out of bed with your dog following close behind. Still yawning, you made yourself a cup of coffee and some breakfast before taking your usual place upon the sofa with the pre-game stream just beginning. With your newest bets on the game placed the night before with JJ , you’d already sent your ‘good luck but lose please’ text to JJ, but you couldn’t help but send another teasing ‘i’ll be so mad if you win this 😉’.

As the times lined up, the smile stuck to your lips as it always did when you saw JJ on the tv. The realisation truly setting in about how you missed him already, and knowing it was another week at least until he’d be home with you.

The puck dropped as you took a large sip of the coffee, holding the mug close to your chest as you watched with your breath held. It was barely five minutes before Kahun would open the scoring, the familiar mixture of excitement and disappointment as the German celebrations began. You did not want to lose another bet and did not want to see Latvia lose either.

The first period was nearing its end, you were so sure it would end 1-0 and Latvia would come out with their heads held high still — but with Wissman’s weaving through the crimson and white jerseys, the German fans broke into celebration once more. An audible groan parting your lips.

And things only slipped further down hill as the second period began. Two German goals in quick succession, followed by JJ scoring from the right wing to rub salt in the growing wound. Your arms were crossed upon your chest, the remaining coffee had gone cold upon the nearby table. At 4-0, things looked dire for your bet and for team Latvia. Dire would become a painful loss as JJ pocketed the seventh goal for team Germany before the end of the second period, your head in your hands as you covered your eyes. Hope was gone, you’d lost your bet again.

There was a small peak of pride as Michaelis fired a shot between the posts before the horn blew for the second intermission, but you knew there was no coming back from this score line. One more German goal in the third and the game would draw to a close, the German team looked elated in comparison to the deflated Latvians. And from your couch, you pouted into your fresh cup of coffee.

Things were always silent for an hour or so after JJ’s games in Ostrava, you’d wait patiently looking at your phone for his text. And, usually, it would be a teasing statement or a winky face for you’d lost another bet.

Needless to say, he was excited to get home and for you to pay up.

You were a little confused as you heard the doorbell ring after about an hour, you’d heard nothing yet from your boyfriend and you’d been sat watching daytime rubbish on tv. Hushing at the barking of your dog, you strode to the door and opened.

Just beyond stood a young woman with a large bunch of orange and red flowers in hand — the look of confusion that had been etched upon your face dissipating immediately, for you knew who’d send flowers in those colours.

“A last-minute order from Ostrava?” The woman queried with her own look of perplexity; this certainly was not her everyday order.

With a short sigh and a nod of your head, hands accepted the large bunch with your gaze immediately caught upon the small card that rested atop the bunch. Thanking the woman, the door was closed, and you wasted no time in freeing your hands to read the card.

‘I’m very sorry that you’ve lost another bet, please don’t hate me. I love you and I miss you, your JJ xx’

You glared down at the card for a moment, but you couldn’t ignore the fluttering in your chest. Fuck, you missed him.

Almost perfectly on queue, you heard your phone ring. You didn’t speak as you answered the phone, not at first — but you could almost hear him grinning.

“Do you forgive me, Liebchen?” JJ spoke with his usual cheeky tone, and you’d be lying if you tried to say that you weren’t grinning from ear to ear. You could never stay mad at him, especially when he started with the little nicknames.

“I’m absolutely furious,” You lied, somewhat poorly and he knew it. You could hear him dramatically hiss in thought as you stifled a small giggle. “You did really well today, JJ.”

“I just wish you were here to see it; I hate being so far away for so long.” He softly whispered. And so did you, but it felt good to hear him say it. “I can’t wait to come home to you, you've got a lot of bets to pay up on.”

You rolled your eyes, playful and excited at the mere thought of him being home with you again. A soft laugh into a phone that made his lips curl even deeper into his smile. He missed that laugh everyday that he didn’t hear it.

“Just finish this tournament out, do your best. I’m proud of you, JJ.”

He went silent for a moment, a slight pinkening to his cheeks that he’d never admit to nor would you see. He could only have been happier if you were there with him in Ostrava.

“I love you too, y/n. You’re the best thing that has happened to me.”

[bmpmp3]

why does everything i get really into always end up being so god damn niche. by the year 2035 i am going to be blogging exclusively about the interpersonal relationships between the pillbugs and snails hiding underneath the bricks lining the flowerbeds in my parent's garden.

[dullahandyke]

and like sidenote if i can make a post with a target audience of zero. i feel like fhsy was to d20 what aa3 was to ace attorney but aa3 pulled it off better for reasons i cannot explain