#stupidest charity activity ever

[merlinficreview]

The Student Prince: Chapters 11-15 Review!

The Student Prince by FayJay

Word Count: 145222

Chapter 11

This chapter opens with Merlin guiltily thinking about how obsessed he’s become with Arthur. “All of which was clearly not healthy, and was also, when you got right down to it, kind of unpleasantly creepy, and made Merlin feel guilty as hell – because in spite of all the prattishness, and in spite of Arthur's complete failure to notice that Merlin kept right on saving his ungrateful arse from various supernatural uglies – well, they were becoming friends.” At least Merlin recognizes he’s being a total creeper.

In order to try and get over Arthur, Merlin has decided to go to one of his GaySoc Club meetings and pick up a one night stand. This will surely end super well.

“And that's how he found himself standing outside The Victoria Cafe, chewing his bottom lip nervously and wondering whether he should have worn jeans instead of battered cargo pants.” Definitely should have worn jeans instead of a gross ripped up pair of cargo pants, Merlin. I’m glad he’s getting out though, and meeting with new people.

There’s some super awkward and inappropriate “wand” jokes from Cedric. Gross. This is how Cedric is described by the way: “…the latter was whippet-thin and had a ratty little goatee and a very disconcerting gleam in his eye,” and, “Merlin looked back at Cedric, who was wearing a remarkable lime-green shirt that gave him the impression of a cadaverous weasel wrapped in a very large leaf, and sighed.” Pretty gross sounding, right?

Cedric then realizes he recognizes Merlin from the Sophia Falling off the Ladder Fiasco and freaks out. “’Fair play, Merlin,’ said Catrina, looking impressed. ‘Didn't think you had it in you.’ ‘Oh my God, have you had it in you, you jammy bitch?’ demanded Cedric, his eyes bulging. ‘Spill! Tell us everything! What does he wear in bed? Where did you meet him? Does that yummy policeman protect him in the bedroom too?’”

YIKES. Cedric JUST met Merlin and he’s been super gross every time he opens his mouth. Get away from him, Merlin.

Merlin excuses himself to go get a drink and I don’t blame him. Honestly, I probably would have just left if someone was talking to me the way Cedric was talking to Merlin. While at the bar, Edwin corners Merlin and hits on him in a much less creepy, but still side-eye worthy, way and asks him about the Kraken. This is like all supernatural tv shows where everyone is all, “FOR THE LOVE OF GOD TELL NO ONE YOUR SECRET!!” but then like more people know the secret than people who don’t.

Merlin and Edwin go exploring some castle. It’s a pretty short scene and ends with Edwin kissing Merlin. Then Merlin is back at the dorm, drunkenly getting into his room.

Merlin knocks over a chair and wakes up Arthur. They have a really awkward conversation about Merlin going to his GaySoc meeting. Arthur asks Merlin if he hooked up with someone and Merlin gets super defensive about it. While, I don’t blame him because I’m sure he’s put up with quite a bit of homophobia, this is the passage: “’Did you cop off with somebody, then?’ Arthur asked, as if he just couldn't help himself. He was staring at Merlin's pink, spit-slick mouth and watching the motion of the toothbrush inside his cheek, and his breath was coming a little too fast. Merlin's eyes narrowed, and he spat out the toothpaste and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand,” also: “Arthur swallowed. ‘Why would I have a problem with that?’ he asked, his voice sounding hoarse. ‘It's no skin off my nose.’ He looked away, his cheeks flushing a vivid, blotchy red in the lamplight, and lay back down.” That’s clearly not Arthur being offended but rather Arthur trying to restrain himself from getting into Merlin’s pants.

Arthur tells Merlin he was just trying to take an interest in Merlin’s life. Merlin apologizes and they go to bed.

Chapter 12

This chapter opens with Merlin and Arthur tied together for a three legged-race for charity. Merlin is less than enthused, “’No, seriously – I had to do this stuff at school,’ he explained. ‘I was pants. Honestly. Pants. Sack race, egg-and-spoon race, wheelbarrow race – I'm just not your man for this kind of thing! I always came last!’” You could always have told Arthur, “no,” Merlin. Arthur has a million bodyguards he could have teamed up with.

“Merlin looked around at the rest of the people in the room, trying to see a sympathetic face somewhere ready to help him out of his predicament. He could not possibly spend an evening getting progressively less sober, with Prince Arthur locked against him ankle-to-ankle and hip-to-hip. It was cruel and unusual punishment, and he was going to lodge a formal complaint. Somewhere.” This is just annoying Merlin, you’re been exceptionally dramatic and it isn’t endearing me to you at all. Just tell Arthur you don’t want to do it and leave. Calm down.

“Oh, God. If he'd had any idea that Lance's bloody Charity Pub Crawl was going to involve getting tied to the oblivious object of his sordid fantasies, he'd have stayed at home. Or had a cold shower. Or at least worn looser trousers.” Can we talk about this weird charity? Who does a three-legged pub crawl race for charity? What charity is it? AA? Also, Arthur said it was his charity at the beginning of the chapter so… I’m confused.

Anyways, Merlin asks Arthur why he won’t race with Gawain and Arthur says Gawain’s partner is Morgause. Which seems like a poor decision. What happens if someone tries to assassinate Morgana? I can just see Morgause comically trying to get to Morgana while still tied to Gawain and falling all over the place. Plus, this is a race. Morgause might be miles behind or ahead of Morgana. “’And isn't she – I mean, honestly, I kind of got the strong impression that she and Morgana were...?’ Arthur shrugged, his cheeks reddening. ‘Don't ask, don't tell,’ he said.” “Don’t ask, don’t tell,” because Morgana and Morgause are cousins?

“’Um. But – doesn't that mean that he's barking up the wrong tree?’ ‘He likes a challenge.’” Let’s talk about this. Now we don’t know what Morgause’s sexuality is. It’s implied she is with Morgana, so we assume she’s into women. She could either be a lesbian or bisexual, which the author of this doesn’t really seem to address (remember the Merlin/Lance fiasco from earlier). My point is, this whole, “straight guy going after a lesbian woman” troupe is super common and it’s annoying as fuck. “LOL she’s into ladies and I know it but let me harass her anyways!!!” Fucking stop.

Morgana and Gwen stumble over. They are partners for the most ill-conceived charity activity ever. “Merlin took one look at the efficient-looking man standing a few paces behind her, radiating that now-familiar aura of polite do-not-fuck-with-me, and did not need to be told that this was whoever was on Morgana duty this evening, while Morgause played at Happy Families with her Academic Grandson.” Ok, I feel much better knowing it’s not open season for assassins on Morgana since Morgause has decided to fuck off and do her own thing. Which is even weirder now that I think about it since Morgause has “long since graduated.” The fuck is she doing hanging around her alma mater for a three legged race? She’s giving me small town quarterback who still attends all the games, wears his letterman jacket all the time and lectures the current players about how he would have handled that pass, “in the good old days,” vibes.

Lance explains the rules, “’Remember, it's up to you which order you visit the pubs,’ said Lance. ‘You can choose any seven from the list – there are Charities Reps in all of them. Make sure you get your booklet stamped by the Charities Rep. They'll confirm that you were there, and what drink you had – to check that it was further down the alphabet than whatever you had at the previous pub. So if you order a pint of Guinness in the Cellar Bar, and go on to the West Port, you can't have an absinth – you'll need to order something that starts with a letter after G, like a Jack Daniels or something. Okay?’” I still don’t understand how this is raising money for charity. They aren’t paying for these drinks. Even if they were, they are going to 7 bars, that’s 14 drinks per team. If there’s ten teams, that’s 140 drinks, and I’m sure the bars aren’t giving these completely away for free, charity or not. So say each drink is $6 and half of it goes to charity, that’s $420 dollars. Is this actually a thing people do? Like are there spectators who bid money on each team? What a stupid thing to bet on. Who would do that? It’s not like those races where small children run/ walk miles and you bet on like $3 a mile. What sort of charity would endorse something like this? Running around drunkenly tied to someone seems so unsafe. THIS CHARITY MAKES NO SENSE.

“’I can't believe that you're supporting something like this!’ Merlin said reproachfully. ‘Isn't this kind of thing against the teachings of the Lord Buddha?’ Lance shrugged. ‘I'm a Buddhist, Merlin. I'm not a killjoy. And besides, it's raising money for an excellent cause.’” BUT WHAT IS THE CAUSE????? Seriously, is this a thing?

“He was all too conscious of the warm, hard line of Arthur's body pressed up against his side, and of Arthur's arm around his waist, and he really couldn't see how he was going to be able to successfully hide his growing arousal over several hours of being plastered up against the man. ‘Please?’ he added, in a small voice.” Ok, Merlin. I like you but fucking stop. You are protesting way too much and it’s getting annoying. You could have just walked away the second someone approached you with the scarf to tie you to Arthur. So dramatic. Damn. Also, Merlin needs to get better friends because they are all ignoring how clearly uncomfortable Merlin is. Lance FINALLY tells him he doesn’t have to do it if he doesn’t want to. “’Mer-lin,’ muttered Arthur, crossly. ‘Don't be such a pussy!’ He sounded oddly upset, and Merlin thought that was a bit rich, under the circumstances.” Lovely. Get new friends, Merlin.

“’Come on, Merlin,’ murmured Arthur against his ear, his breath brushing warm against Merlin's skin and his lips grazing Merlin's earlobe for just a second.’ ‘I'm not doing it without you, you git. You can't make me go with some stranger, who...look, I trust you, Merlin. I know we'll look out for each other. It'll be fine. Please?’” This is giving me an odd image because we just got a description of Merlin leaning his head on Arthur’s shoulder. So is Arthur leaning all the way over to Merlin’s other ear to do this? I know it’s supposed to be an “ooer Arthur is being super touchy feeley!!! He’s totally falling for Merlin!” moment but the image is just making me laugh.

“’Is everyone ready?’ asked Lance, looking around at the mass of couples standing arm-in-arm in front the Students' Union building in the last lingering pink-red-gold rays of the setting sun. ‘Everyone got their collecting tins?’” Ohhhhhh! So they will be harassing bar patrons for money for the charity. Got it. Is this taking place during the day? If they are getting money from bar patrons, how is this a race? Like a team could just go to every bar, ignore collecting any money, get their drinks, and leave to win the race.

The next scene is Merlin and Arthur at their, presumably, second bar. Arthur has ordered them brandy and Merlin refuses to drink it, ordering himself a pint of ale and decides he is going to order his own drinks from that point on.

Then we get this: “Merlin lifted the glass to his lips, watching Arthur's face all the while, and started drinking. And drinking. And drinking. He watched Arthur's eyes start to widen, and his glance skitter down to stare at the way that Merlin's adam's apple was bobbing while his head tilted gradually back so that he was looking at Arthur through his lashes, and Arthur started to blush. By the time Merlin put down his empty pint glass on the bar and swiped the back of his hand over his wet mouth, Arthur's eyes were bulging, and his fingers were digging into Merlin's waist quite fiercely. ‘That was – that was actually pretty impressive,’ he said, rather hoarsely, his eyes darting from Merlin's mouth to his throat and back again.”

Ugh. I see this cliché, Arthur getting hot over Merlin drinking something scene SO MANY TIMES in fanfic and it’s so annoying. This trope is so overused and so unrealistic. I’ve literally never had a dude get all hot and bothered by me drinking something. If they are intensely looking at me while I’m drinking something, they are probably thinking, “She drinks a lot of fluids. I hope she’s not diabetic. How do I casually mention she should get her glucose levels checked out?”

So Merlin and Arthur get progressively drunker. There’s some awkward flirting. “’Oh, bite me, Your Majesty,’ he said, and launched a spectacularly successful (if perhaps, upon reflection, not very well thought out) stealth tickle attack sent them both toppling off their chairs and had Arthur convulsing and yelling and flailing on the floor within seconds, to the fascination of the crowd in The Central. Merlin reflected, in the back of his mind, that it was probably a Very Good Thing that he UK press had signed that agreement to hold off on buying any paparazzi photographs or interviews relating to the prince until after he turned nineteen.”

Just some platonic tickling between bros. Where one character ends up straddling the other. Nothing to see here.

Also, don’t be stupid, Merlin. Just because the media is banned from taking photos, it doesn’t prevent the general public from taking photos and posting them all over the internet.

The chapter ends with Merlin awkwardly calling “Uncle” and then the two of them leave the bar.

Chapter 13

This chapter opens up with the beginning of Raisin Weekend. So we have no idea what happened with this alleged “charity.” Who won? Where did the money go? How much did they bully poor bar patrons into giving them? How many people died from accidentally drunkenly stumbling into the streets because they were tied to another person and lost their balance? The ending to that scene is super abrupt and I honestly feel like I missed an entire chapter somehow.

So Merlin occasionally obsesses over his near kiss with Arthur in the pub and wonders if he should have gone for it. No no no no. It’s a BAD idea to kiss your straight roommate who happens to be the heir to the throne in a very public place. Do not do that. You’re welcome.

Merlin thinks about the possible consequences of having done that, “Or possibly molesting the heir to the throne was one of those obscure laws that overruled the whole no-death-penalty thing – like the ancient and never-revoked ruling that said that anyone on the Isle of Man could legally shoot a Scotsman seen wearing a kilt on one of their beaches. There was probably some statute somewhere that said anyone trying to get their end away with the Prince of Wales would have their head chopped off and stuck on a spike in the middle of Tower Bridge, or something. Merlin made a mental note to look that up, just in case.” Well, yes Merlin. Good job for recognizing that molestation is illegal. A + It probably wouldn’t get you killed but don’t do it either way, no need to look it up. Don’t fucking sexually assault people. And don’t put jokes about it in your fanfics.

“Still, occasionally, when he watched Arthur chewing the end of a biro earnestly as he scribbled notes for an essay, or when he sleepily spied on Arthur stretching in preparation for his morning run, or when he lost himself in the sound of Arthur's voice rambling on about his latest lecture from Gabriella Slomp about ‘”Obbes and Grot-i-us and Nat-si-o-nal law and In-ter-nat-si-o-nal law,’ or the sight of his shirt riding up to reveal a sliver of his back and the top of shockingly perfect arse as he leaned over to tie his shoelaces...occasionally, just occasionally, Merlin thought maybe it might have been worth it.” Ok. Several things to say about this section. Way to misspell national and international. I’m not sure if it’s supposed to represent Arthur’s accent by being spelled that way or something but it still makes no sense because you don’t pronounce hard T’s in either of those words so the s is unnecessary.

Now, let’s talk about this “shirt riding up to reveal a sliver…” part. This is yet ANOTHER ridiculously overused trope in fanfic that makes no sense. Ooer an inch of someone’s back/stomach (the stomach example is how I usually see it in fanfic). How sexy .Said no one ever.

If Arthur reaching over to tie his shoes is showing so much skin that Merlin can see, “the top of a shockingly perfect arse,” then Arthur needs to pull up his damn pants.

Lastly, but most importantly, IT WOULD NOT HAVE BEEN WORTH IT. No sexually assaulting people, damn. I don’t feel like I should need to spell it out.

“As Raisin Weekend got closer and closer, Morgana took to smirking at her Academic children in a very disconcerting fashion, and randomly producing a soft blue tape measure with which she measured wrists and ankles and waists and legs and various other bits and pieces, whilst chuckling to herself.” Just including this because it made me think of Katie McGrath’s ridiculous and excessive smirking in season three of Merlin.

So Merlin asks Arthur if his Academic Dad is someone in Arthur’s pilot club and Arthur tells Merlin he didn’t end up joining for various reasons which all make sense to me but Merlin is super dramatic and over the top about it. He makes a big scene about how it’s not fair and blah blah blah. Calm down, Merlin. Arthur tells Merlin he still goes to the air plane hangar once a week. “So – what, you sit there with your nose pressed up against the glass like Tiny Tim, watching all the cadets having fun without you? That's...creepy and weird, frankly.” Lol, Merlin. That was actually funny. Arthur tells Merlin he takes his own plane out.

So Arthur tells Merlin he doesn’t have an Academic Dad. “You don't have an Academic Dad yet?!‘ ’ Given that they'd both just stepped out of the cold, bright Autumn morning and into the University Library, shouting was probably not really the best of all possible plans. Arthur slapped his forehead in frustration, looked from Merlin over to the audience of intrigued students and unimpressed librarians, and turned on his heel and walked right back outside again.”

God Merlin is so tactless. He always has to make a giant scene about everything. I used to like you, Merlin but you’ve been really getting on my nerves the last two chapters. Have some self-awareness, damn.

Arthur turns around and leaves; Merlin runs after him, apologizing. Probably still yelling at the top of his lungs to continue attracting attention. Of course Merlin starts to fall so Arthur grabs him and saves him, holding on just a little too long. Just bros, people. Just bros.

Arthur then walks away. As he should. I would still be pissed too. “And with that he stomped off down the path, leaving Merlin standing there with a head full of questions tumbling like leaves on a blustery Autumn day.” I’m going to give that an unnecessarily dramatic, flowery language warning. You’re on notice, fic.

Later, Merlin goes back to the dorm and Arthur tells him that Lance called him up and asked him if he wanted Lance to be his Academic Dad. Arthur wonders if Merlin called him up and told him. He admits to it, though I don’t think it would have been strictly necessary considering how many people were in the library when Merlin screamed his comment. Word gets around. Lance probably just heard about the incident. Or maybe literally heard the incident take place.

Chapter 14

Merlin and Arthur arrive at Morgana’s house and Morgause answers the door. Arthur asks where her “deadly” kitten Mordred is. We learn that it’s Raisin Sunday Tea Party and everyone has to pick out a hat. Even though Merlin is no longer worried about drunkenly doing magic in front of people, he still worries about Arthur. “Which meant that all he had to worry about was being careful not to say or do anything inappropriate to Arthur – and by this time, he thought he could have earned a BAFTA award for his compelling portrayal of Platonic Best Friend. Bloody well done him. Fifty points to Gryffindor, damn it.” These lies Merlin is telling himself right now.

Morgana gifts everyone with their “Raisin Strings.” Arthur’s is the best one as it’s basically just a necklace with a plane pendant modeled after his real plane. Gwen gets a hip flask in honor of her and Morgana winning the pub crawl and her budding alcoholism, and Merlin gets a massive stuffed Kraken. On a string. To wear on his neck. And Morgana’s explanation is so cringey I want to die for Merlin, “Because Merlin's terribly fond of the Pirates of the Caribbean movies. And I understand he has a thing for tentacles. Or was it testicles? One or the other. Possibly both. Anyway, that's enough of me talking – let's hand over to the lovely Helen!”

After their tea party, which was cups of whiskey, they start playing a bunch of ridiculous games, most of which involve more drinking. Then, they all get into groups of four for, you guessed it, Twister! In 3D! “But rather than placing your hands and feet on different coloured circles on the floor, you're supposed to put your hands, or face, or bum, on various different parts of the other people in your team. The aim of the game is to successfully obey the game master's instructions; so long as you've got your hands, face and bum pressed up against whatever they're supposed to be on, and your teammates have too, your team is still in the game. When your team drops out, you each have to down a cup of Grandma Morgause's Blue Meanie Punch. Any questions?” In case you were wondering.

Percy is on Merlin’s team. “Merlin grinned back appreciatively, and reflected that it might not be so bad; Perceval played a lot of football, and it showed. He was a smidgen shorter than Merlin, but impressively athletic, and strikingly good looking, with skin the richly burnished red-brown of a just-split conker, and dark hair in dreadlocks that fell down past his shoulders.” That description.

LOL I mean, it’s funny because Tom Hopper is like a million feet tall and massive. This was written before his character was introduced on the show but still. I’m laughing.

Merlin’s team loses and there’s two teams left. “Merlin, Andi and Percy all piled together on the sofa, Merlin wriggling down so that his back was on the cushion, his legs hooked over the arm rest and his head pillowed companionably on Percy's thigh.” Quite an interesting decision there, Merlin since you pretty much just met Percy. As long as he’s cool with you laying on his crotch, I guess. Kay’s team topples over so Arthur’s team wins, naturally, “…and Merlin was clapping and cheering madly as Arthur disentangled himself blushingly from his partners and then looked over in Merlin's direction with an expression that Merlin had not the faintest idea how to interpret.” I’ll interpret it for you, dumbass. Arthur is jealous of you being face first in some other dude’s lap.

The next came involves sucking chocolate balls onto a straw and dropping them into a glass. Kay makes a disgusting joke regarding Merlin’s sucking skills. Die in a fire, Kay, etc. etc.

So then this happens: “He was doing quite well, he thought, until he glanced up and saw that Arthur had frozen with his straw poised over his own pint glass, and was just staring at Merlin with an intensity that made Merlin flush suddenly scarlet. He looked back down at his box in confusion, but then had to look back up at Arthur again, through his eyelashes, and Arthur was still staring at him – staring at his mouth, in fact – and Merlin could feel himself getting embarrassingly turned on,” and “…and Arthur was licking his lips, like – like – but clearly Merlin was having some kind of alcohol-induced breakdown, because there was no way that Arthur was giving him any kind of heated come-hither-ish looks.” The secondhand embarrassment. I cannot. Arthur, be more obvious that you were imagining Merlin give you a blow job. Merlin, be more obtuse.

Later, Merlin once again brings up Gwen and Lance and he asks her if she’s finally going to get together with him. Gwen is annoyingly dense about it but, I have to agree with her getting annoyed with Merlin bringing it up over and over and over. Fucking stop.

Next is a jelly shot contest. Merlin is lying on the floor with his shirt off; Blanche, his partner, is blindfolded and will be eating the shots off him. Arthur sits and stares at Merlin the whole time. It’s awkward and weird.

The next game involves Chocolate Matchmakers. I have no idea what those are because we don’t have them so I just kind of imagine them as chocolate covered pretzel rods. So they have to pass them around through each other’s mouths and with each person, it gets shorter and shorter because the person passing the candy bites of the end that’s in their mouth. Arthur is of course sitting next to Merlin for this, so Merlin is understandably losing his shit. Poor Drunk Merlin. Oh and there’s a donut on the matchmaker so whomever gets the donut wins? Whatever. These games are weird, but very stereotypical drunk games.

So Merlin gets ready to pass to Arthur and it’s all very tense with the chocolate quickly melting in his mouth, Arthur grabs the end of the chocolate, “…but instead, he found Arthur was still moving towards him, closer and closer, his lips sliding down over inch after inch until he'd swallowed up chocolate and doughnut and all, and was pressing his mouth against Merlin's, swiping his tongue lingeringly over Merlin's startled lips as he stole the game.”

NORMAL BRO STUFF PEOPLE. NOTHING TO SEE HERE. MOVE ALONG.

Merlin freaks out and goes to the bathroom, for which I don’t blame him. Then he masturbates in the bathroom, which is really awkward because he’s at someone else’s house.

Chapter 15

So now we get to the part in the story where I accidentally hate Gwen even though what happens next isn’t her fault. Well not entirely. I also hate Arthur. A lot. Because he’s a complete ass. Stay tuned!

Merlin gets back from the bathroom and spots Arthur speaking to Gwen. Merlin is upset because he wanted to tell Gwen everything that happened; I would too. Then Arthur gets all flirty and up in Gwen’s space, “…and then Arthur was leaning even closer and pushing a strand of curls behind her ear, murmuring something, and she was stumbling over her words and going wide-eyed and startled, staring up at him...”

What in the actual FUCK are you doing, Arthur? Merlin has the best possible reaction, “’Oh,’ said Merlin, blankly, and he turned on his heel and went to find Mordred.” That is word for word what I would have done in the situation. Poor Merlin.

Merlin is playing with Mordred when Morgana finds him and they have a really sweet, though sad for Merlin, and honest conversation about Arthur. Morgana is really nice to him about it and she even acknowledges Arthur was flirting with Merlin. “I could shake him. He was definitely flirting with you down there, and it's not fair. It's really not fair.” DO IT, MORGANA. SHAKE HIM. DO IT NOW.

Later, Lance shows up to pick them all up for his portion of the festivities. “When Lance had shown up to collect his Academic kids Merlin had seen him watch the way that Arthur leaned into her space and wrapped his hands around her waist from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder, making her giggle – and Merlin had watched the light go out of Lance's eyes then and there.” Yikesapolooza. What the fuckering fuck are you doing, Arthur? Can you be more of a self-serving asshole? You know how Lance feels about Gwen and you clearly know how Merlin feels about you. Plus you JUST flirted heavily with Merlin. I don’t care if you are just asserting your straightness after the whole Merlin kiss because you’re having a big gay crisis. Fucking no. You’re hurting three other people with this nonsense.

Arthur spends the whole walk flirting with Gwen which ends up in a tickle fights on the ground. Hey, remember when he did that with another character earlier? Also, get up off the ground you idiots. Gross.

Merlin and Co are at Lance’s friends’ house and Arthur and Gwen are still grossly flirting in front of Lance and Merlin. Merlin confronts Lance about not asking Gwen out. “’Well – I mean, I've – um. Do we have to talk about this?’ ‘Yes,’ said Merlin, firmly. ‘Yes we do. Because it's driving me batshit insane, and because I really need a distraction this evening, and you, you lucky man, are it…’” Fucking finally. It’s driving me insane too, Merlin. Damn.

So basically, Lance used to be fat and ugly and that’s why he won’t do casual flings.

Which is stupid and doesn’t answer the question about Gwen whatsoever. “It's just that I don't really do casual flings, that's all. It's not my cup of tea. But when I met Gwen – it was like she was exactly who I'd been waiting for my whole life. I can't describe it. As soon as I saw her – I mean, she just walked in and the whole room lit up. I wanted to do something amazing for her – climb mountains, slay dragons, something. Just for her. She took my breath away.” That’s way too excessive, Lance. Calm down.

Merlin tells Lance to get his shit together because Gwen is super into him. Cue: “Gwen had got her arms around Arthur's neck, and her knees on either side of his lap, and was kissing the crap out of him.” Of course. Merlin gets up to get another drink. Probably not the best idea since he’s been smashed for about 6 hours at that point. He should really just go back to his dorm and sleep it off at this point. Poor Merlin.

As Merlin is in the kitchen, Edwin magically shows up and they start engaging in some inappropriate PDA against the fridge when Arthur walks in on them. Because of course he does. Merlin looks at Arthur, “At an Arthur who was blushing a shocked, blotchy scarlet and staring at Merlin like he wanted to punch him. Or possibly punch Edwin – Merlin wasn't entirely sure.” Arthur leaves. And fuck him, honestly. He has no right to be pissed off at Merlin for being with another guy when he was LITERALLY just making out with Gwen. In front of Merlin. Asshole.

So this section was ok. I don’t like Cedric being gross towards Merlin at the GaySoc meeting. The charity pub crawl really threw me off. Seriously, is this a legit thing that people do? I get just doing a three-legged pub crawl race with your friends for fun but charity? Really? What charity wants to be associated with drunken debauchery? Also, I’m getting real tired of Arthur being super obviously into Merlin, Merlin being deliberately obtuse about it and Arthur doing nothing. What an ass.

Now let’s talk about the Gwen/Arthur/Lance/Merlin love square. It’s stupid. Genuinely stupid. Gwen might be stupid about Lance’s feelings but there’s no way she doesn’t know Merlin, her BEST FRIEND, has feelings for Arthur. Plus, she insists Lance is too good for her and doesn’t have a thing for her and yet has no problem accepting making out with THE PRINCE OF WALES? REALLY, GWEN? REALLY? She is honestly so dumb. If I liked Lance, I would tell him to stop wasting his time and find someone better. Ok, I know I’m getting blamey towards Gwen but I do think she does hold some responsibility for her actions here. Obviously Arthur is also 100% in the wrong here. He knows Gwen likes Lance and Lance likes Gwen. He also has to know Merlin is somewhat into him or else he never would have gone for that kiss during the tea party. Arthur is just using Gwen, which is really fucking gross, to assert his straightness to Merlin (and probably himself but I don’t care about him and he can fuck off). I don’t care. Stop being an ass and purposely hurting everyone around you. Because that’s what he’s doing. Merlin deserves better than this asshole, prince or not.

Other than that, I liked the pub bar crawl just as a general scene, minus the charity stuff that makes no sense. I also liked the tea party chapters. All five chapters were pretty enjoyable to read. It’s some good Merlin/Arthur angst, particularly during the party, right up until Arthur fucks it all up. I also like Morgana actually being really sweet towards Merlin about Arthur. And three cheers for kitten Mordred. Flawless character.

Until next time:

[aellynera]

The Best Years of Your Life (Reeves x Reader)

THE BEST YEARS OF YOUR LIFE

(hey hey, this is my other submission for @wasicskosgirl and her 800 follower celebration! and yes, you read that right - it’s REEVES. i had a lot of fun writing it and i hope you enjoy reading it! CONGRATS Amanda!!)

Word Count: um like 6200ish oops it was supposed to be a blurb

Summary: They say the best years of your life happen in high school, but what do they know?

Warnings: Some language. Female reader implied but no pronouns/description. Teenage angst. Adult wistfulness. Mostly fluffy tho. No promises about proofreading. Frog murder. 

with the prompt - “Like what you see?”

It all started back in high school. Sometimes you wonder how often people say that, and if it’s really true or they’re just falsely remembering how things happened because high school is supposed to be the best four years of your life.

But in this case, it’s true. Because high school is when you met Reeves.

Sophomore Year. High School. A Friday. 

It was the third day of sophomore year, fourth period on a Friday morning, your last before the lunch break. Biology class was maybe the one you were least looking forward to, not exclusively because of the required frog dissection, but pretty damn close. Gross. And you never understood why the school year didn’t just start on a Monday, but you were new here in San Diego. Maybe they just did things differently.

It was bad enough being the new kid. It was worse when you walked into class halfway through the lecture, even if it wasn’t your fault. The timing of the move was weird, and you’d spent most of the first two days, and this morning, doing placement tests and talking to your counselor. 

And now you were being called out in front of the entire class.

“Ah, there you are,” your teacher announced as you walked in the door. “Everyone, this is our new student, please make them feel welcome. You can sit over there.”

Your eyes followed as she motioned to the empty seat at the lab table in the back of the room. Suddenly you weren’t sure if your face felt hot because of embarrassment or because of the boy in the other chair.

Dark, curly hair cut close on the sides but longer on the top. Deep brown eyes framed by long, long lashes. Full, plush lips curling up into his cheek on one side. A nose that, okay, maybe might be a bit oversized but for some reason worked on his handsome face and--

Well, shit. Definitely not the embarrassment.

You shuffled your way to your seat and slid into it with your head down. A few students watched you curiously but soon turned their attention back to the lesson. You tried your best to focus on what was going on, to not look to your left at the distraction next to you.

You weren’t very successful.

By now you thought you’d sneaked enough covert glances to know that we was wearing a leather jacket, had a small diamond stud earring in his left ear, a bunch of silver-studded brown suede wrap bracelets around both wrists, a silver ring on his right index finger, and oddly precise handwriting as he took notes. In between relevant facts the teacher was sharing, he was doodling tiny music notes in the margins of his notebook.

And he totally caught you looking.

“Like what you see?” he leaned over and whispered.

Your mouth felt drier than the Sahara but also somehow so moist you were afraid you might have actually drooled on yourself. You should have opened your mouth to respond but your brain refused to make the connection. Probably for the best.

At least, at first. When it finally caught up to you, the only response your brain could provide was, “Maybe?”

Now would be the perfect time for the floor to swallow you whole.

He just winked at you and his attention went back to the doodles around his notes.

You shifted your gaze back to your own notebook, but you don’t know if anything else of importance was said, and don’t remember writing anything down. The bell ringing sharply pulled you back to reality and you hastily shoved your books in your backpack, ready to escape.

Just as you were about to leave, a voice called out. “Hey, sorry about earlier. If I freaked you out or anything.”

You looked up. He was smiling at you, a little shyly. You bit your lip, your brain and mouth still refusing to connect.

He stuck his hand out. “I’m Reeves. You’re new here?”

“Um…” you smacked yourself internally. This was ridiculous, you weren’t really shy, you knew how to have a conversation, he was just introducing himself. You were going to have a serious conversation with your brain later about proper communication techniques.

It felt like hours had passed, but you finally pulled yourself together enough to respond. “Yeah. My- my dad got transferred for work, we moved here like a week ago. He literally dragged the family across the country. I’m originally from New York City.”

His eyes lit up. “Oh, cool! I always wanted to go to New York City!”

You found yourself smiling back.

“Do you...wanna sit with me at lunch?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. “Maybe you could tell me a little about the city? And...about you, since we’re gonna have to commit heinous acts of violence on an amphibian together? I’d like to know who’s wielding a scalpel next to me.”

The giggle that escaped your throat could not be contained. This boy - Reeves - was adorable. “Oh. Okay, yeah. I’d really like that.”

The Present.

Poor Lenny the Frog never stood a chance. Then again, neither did you.

To be fair, Lenny was already dead when you and Reeves got your hands on him. Well, when you got your hands on him, because for the full first half of that specific class period, Reeves refused to touch him and nearly turned as green as Lenny once was. That’s when he insisted on naming your cadaver, because somehow giving it a name made it easier to deal with.

You were pretty sure Reeves was nuts.

By the middle of sophomore year, you were dead too, but not for the same reasons.

By the middle of sophomore year, you weren’t sure how you were still alive, because every time he looked over at you and gave you a sly smile during class, gave you that look, you felt your heart go taut and you forgot how to breathe and certainly, rightfully, should have been dead.

Your friend Alexis stuck her head into your bathroom. “Hey, we’re just waiting on Vanessa, and then we’re good to go. Drinks first? The show doesn’t start until 8 so we have time.”

You glanced up from your makeup and nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

Alexis grinned. “Aaaaaah I’m so glad you agreed to go out tonight! It’s gonna be so much fun!”

“Oh, it’s gonna be something,” you muttered, going back to your eyeliner.

Alexis had been the first one to see the concert announcement about a week ago. A benefit show at one of the clubs down in Greenwich Village, some punk revival thing (for charity) with a bunch of different singers and musicians. Not normally your scene, but Alexis scanned through the names and suddenly remembered you’d known Reeves in high school. You said yes, he was in your class, and you’d been lab partners once. Vanessa squealed in excitement and Alexis announced you were going to the show. There was never any actual agreement.

Because of course Reeves was going to be there. And of course, you had to be too.

Junior Year. The Parking Lot. A Tuesday.

“I’m just saying, it was a ridiculous foul, and it should never have been called,” Reeves groused as you walked out of the gym.

“We also should have made like twenty more of our own foul shots,” you pointed out.

The Lake Howell Silverhawks had fallen to their arch-rivals in a somewhat glorious fashion. You didn’t even like basketball that much. But that didn’t really matter. The games were just an excuse to go out for burgers before and hang out with your friends during.

It was definitely an excuse to hang out with Reeves.

Junior year, you were both disappointed to find you didn’t have any classes together, but you still almost always ate lunch together. He’d come over to your house to study during the week and sometimes just to chill out on the weekends. Over the past year, he’d shown you all around the city and taken you to his favorite places. You told him all about New York, how you missed it and one day you’d go back, and all the famous sites and which ones were tourist traps that he was only allowed to visit the very first time and then never again.

You spent so much time together, even your mother liked to tease you about why he wasn’t your boyfriend.

It took a while for you to find the words to tell her it was because he was someone else’s.

As much as you liked to pretend she didn’t change anything, Randie Rustenberg changed everything. It was gradual, like a creeping vine of ivy, and she slowly took him over. There was no malice; it was just one of those things that happened. Reeves spent less time with you, his best friend, and more time with Randie, his girlfriend.

The girlfriend you desperately wished was you, because ever since that first biology class you’d had the biggest, stupidest crush on him.

Eventually you had a boyfriend of your own. Theo was a nice guy, he really was. Polite, friendly, had a good sense of humor, liked your family. And your family loved him. Your mother was so happy that you had a boyfriend, she seemed to forget to ask how Reeves was and if you’d seen him lately.

Of course you saw him. You saw him every day, in the cafeteria, at his locker, passing by in the halls. Sometimes you could find him playing the grand piano on the stage in the empty auditorium. Yes, if your mother bothered to ask, you saw Reeves all the time. Now it was just always with her.

Except this week. It was a break of sorts, no classes, just some sports and other school activities. Randie was on some trip with her parents for some kind of church function, and Theo was fishing with his dad on some lake up north. He’d told you where, but you honestly couldn’t be bothered to recall. So when a bunch of your friends and a bunch of his friends all said everyone was going to the basketball game, there was no debate.

As if there was any way you’d say no.

Sometime during the game, your friends wandered off to the snack bar and never ventured back. His friends started a game of hacky-sack under the bleachers. And you found yourself pretending to understand all the finer points about hoops strategy, cheering and yelling along with Reeves and having a great time, just like you used to.

“Where’d you park?” he asked as you left the gym and headed out into the sea of cars. You vaguely pointed in the direction of yours and he grinned. “Oh, good, I’m that way too. Come on, I’ll walk you.”

The faint glow emitted by the lampposts in the parking lot bounced off his curls and his eyes, when you could catch a glimpse, were bright beneath them.

As if there was any way you’d say no.

The walk wasn’t very far, but it felt like it was over in a second. You hadn’t said anything on the way, just soaked in the comfort of walking next to him as he kept commenting on the game.

He was waving his hands everywhere, looking at them as he talked as if his hand motions would make things make any more sense to you, in the middle of saying something about your center and how they needed to get better about blocking out when you finally spoke.

“Oh, shit.”

Reeves looked up at you. “What, you don’t agree?”

You dropped your bag on the ground and rolled your eyes. “No, my car is locked and I left my keys inside.” You pointed to the passenger seat. Your keys stared back at you derisively.

You both stared back at them for a moment, then he grinned. “Hang on, I got you.” He held up one finger and trotted off to his car, coming back a minute later with something in his hand. “This should take care of it.”

You took a step back. “Reeves? Um. Okay, why do you have a coat hanger in your car.”

He rolled his eyes back at you. “For emergencies, duh.” He quickly twisted the hanger into a hook shape and went to your passenger side window.

“And why do you know how to break into a car with said coat hanger?”

“Like I told you,” his tongue poked out between his teeth as he worked, “for emergencies. You think I haven’t locked my own keys in my car once or six times?”

“Did Randie teach you how to do this?” The words were out of your mouth before you could think. She probably had. She might have been churchy when required, but she was also responsible for about half of Reeves’s stints in detention (the other half just being him making the wrong joke at the wrong time and pissing a teacher off.)

Thank god he didn’t seem to hear you as he kept working at the lock. Finally you heard a *click* and he pumped a fist into the air with a little “yessss!”

And then you’re not really sure what happened. You bent down to pick up your bag and then you were standing up and Reeves’s face was literally about three inches away from yours and for the eight thousandth time since you’d know him, you forgot how to breathe.

Neither of you said anything for what felt like days. You just stared at each other under the dim halo of the parking lot lights.

“Here you go.” He took your hand and dropped your keys into it.

“Thanks,” you whispered.

“Like what you see?” the corners of his mouth quirked up, just the slightest little bit.

“...Maybe.”

And the staring recommenced. Were you two getting closer? Physically closer, you meant, of course you were close, you’d always been close. Well, at one time you were really close but then Randie Restenberg happened and it wasn’t fair that she got to know what those lips felt like and did he always smell this good or--

“Yo, Reeves!” A pickup truck full of guys skidded to a stop behind your car and one of his friends - Jake? Jack? you barely remembered your own name right now - stuck his head out the window. “Fight to the death ping pong tourney at Matt’s house! You in?”

Reeves bit his lip and closed his eyes for a second before he pulled back with a soft “I’m sorry” before turning to his friends. “Um, yeah, sure. Sounds brutal. I’ll meet you there.” 

The pickup sped off, tires screeching out of the parking lot. Reeves turned back to you, but you’d already gotten into your now unlocked car and started the engine.

You rolled down the window a fraction and gave him a weak smile. “Hey, um. Thanks for saving my butt. Now go kick theirs at ping pong, yeah?” Your face felt so hot, and for once you were grateful for the dim lights in the lot.

“You could, um, come along if- if you want.”

“Nah, I’m...I’m tired, I’m just gonna...um, head home. But I’ll see you tomorrow maybe?”

Reeves looked like he was about to say something else, but he didn’t. He just stepped onto the curb in front of your car, smiled, and raised his hand in a little wave as he watched you drive off.

The Present.

A series of shrieks and the slamming of the door told you Vanessa had finally arrived. It sounded like they were jumping up and down on the tile just inside your front door, which was ridiculous since you’d all just seen each other the day before. But typical.

You smoothed a pinkie under your eye, checked your makeup one final time, and went into the living room.

“Oh, you look hot,” Vanessa gushed. She grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and plopped down on your couch. “Who are you trying to impress tonight?”

“Reeves, of course,” Alexis laughed, leaning on the kitchen counter. She sorted anything she might need from her big purse into a little evening bag as she talked. “You know we go to all his shows. And you know they went to high school together.”

You snorted. “That was a long time ago. I’m not even sure he’d remember me.”

Vanessa waggled her eyebrows. “You’re probably right, No offense, honey, but no one was that hot back in high school.”

He was, your brain supplied. Very helpful. You smiled wanly.

Vanessa continued. “But you were friends, right? You’ve never really talked about it. God, it must be so cool now to think that you were friends with Reeves back when he was an awkward high school teenager.”

“Reeves was never awkward,” you laugh. “It was kind of unfair.”

“But you totally had a crush on him,” Alexis offered.

Had? What do you mean, had? Oh my god, shut up, brain.

A pillow flew in your direction and you ducked as Vanessa giggled and Alexis rolled her eyes. “Come on, tell us something about him,” Vanessa goaded. “Wait. Was he, like, your prom date? That’s your secret! You totally went to prom with Reeves and you never told us!”

Senior Year. Prom. A Saturday.

The night was not supposed to go this way.

It was supposed to be limousines and corsages and dinner with dates and friends. It was supposed to be endless pictures while your mother told you how gorgeous you looked and how handsome he was and your father gave a thinly-veiled shovel talk about how he knew what happens on prom night and what would really happen if that actually happened. It was supposed to be punch and cookies and balloons. It was supposed to be dancing closer than the chaperones were comfortable with and kissing with tongue when they weren’t looking.

It was supposed to be the best night of your life. It was supposed to be fun.

Nowhere in your weeks of dreaming of this night did it involve sitting on a bench in the girls’ locker room, knees pulled up to your chest, while the party carried on in the gym just beyond.

It definitely didn’t involve crying.

The bass beats of the deejay and the harmony of laughter temporarily got louder as the locker room door opened, and then faded back into a muted thumping as the door closed again a second later. You could hear footsteps headed in your direction but before you could unfold yourself and wipe your tears away, a familiar voice called out.

“Hey, there you are!”

Being able to find the words to describe how he looked in his tux, his curls slightly tamed by some gel, the blue rose (of course it would be an off color, why would he pick something standard?) pinned to his lapel, his lopsided grin… Finding the words was nearly impossible.

Of course he would show up now. Because your night wasn’t already crappy enough and half the reason you were sitting there weeping instead of out there dancing was standing right in front of you.

You realized that wasn’t fair. It was probably more like, twenty-five percent of the reason, and it wasn’t his fault. But that didn’t make it any better.

“Why are you in the girls’ locker room, Reeves?” you sniffled.

He furrowed his eyebrows and his nose scrunched up in concern as he took in your mascara-streaked cheeks and puffy red eyes. “One of your friends said you came in here like half an hour ago and nobody’s seen you since. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine.”

“Clearly not.” He sat down next to you. “Wanna talk about it?”

A deep, shaky sign left your chest. You didn’t really want to talk about how, earlier in the evening, you’d excused yourself to use the restroom and come back to the gym to find Theo dancing with...you didn’t remember her name, nor did you care. You didn’t mind that he was dancing with another girl, in theory, but it was another matter entirely when his hands were on her ass and she was sucking a deep purple mark into his neck. And he was laughing. 

A short, vicious argument ensued in the coat room after you’d cut in and dragged him off by the elbow. And it turned out that he’d been seeing whats-her-name for months, somehow, behind your back while pretending that everything was perfect with you. When he was supposedly visiting his grandparents? He was with her. When he had to work an extra shift? He was with her. When he got off the phone with you, saying he needed to get to bed early? He was calling her.

Prom wasn’t supposed to involve a very public break-up.

And things didn’t get any better when, deciding you needed something to drink, you went back into the gym and immediately saw Reeves and Randie, dancing cheek to cheek, arms snugly wrapped around each other as a soft, romantic song wafted through the air. Because of course he was with her. She was his girlfriend and Reeves wasn’t a detestable cheating asshole.

There was always another her.

You couldn’t handle it.

So you took off to somewhere almost guaranteed to be empty. You figured the locker room wasn’t really the kind of place kids would want to make out, and you were right. It was blessedly empty. Until now.

But you couldn’t tell him the second part, so you just went with the first. His eyes got wide as you blubbered through the sordid details of Theo being a complete and utter twat. Another quivery sob half-burst from you and Reeves got up. He grabbed a few paper towels from the dispenser and handed them to you as he sat back down.

“Thanks,” you hiccuped.

“I never liked him,” Reeves announced.

You found yourself choking on a huff of air. “What? Yes you did! Everybody loved him. That’s what makes it extra shitty.”

“Did you?”

“What?”

Reeves cocked his head and looked at you with an expression you couldn’t quite place. “Did you love him?”

Your mouth opened and closed but nothing came out. Why did you always seem to forget how to make words when Reeves asked you questions?

“What?”

He shrugged. “Everyone else loved him. Did you?”

You used every last ounce of willpower you had to not jump up on that bench and shout that of course you didn’t love Theo, you idiot, because I love you.

That would not make this night any easier.

The next thing you knew, Reeves put an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his chest, hugging you soundly. He rested his cheek on the top of your head. “Doesn’t matter. You’re better off without him.”

You dabbed at your eyes. Nope, still couldn’t make words.

Minutes, hours, days. You had no idea how long you stayed like that, pressed to him and feeling him breathe beneath you. You no longer had any idea how long it had even been since everything crashed around you and he’d come to try and help you pick up the pieces. You just listened to his heartbeat, strong and steady, as the muffled music and joyful shouts of classmates went on past the closed door.

Finally he spoke again. “Hey, you wanna get one of those complimentary pictures?”

“What?” Oh, great. You were finally able to answer his question but you could still only come up with that one word? Stupid brain.

“Well, I…” he sat up straight and, after the briefest look into your eyes, he glanced away. Was he blushing? You weren’t sure. “I always kind of...I kind of thought we’d have a prom picture together. I mean, I just figured, y’know, we’d go with a bunch of friends, but I always hoped I’d get a picture with my best friend.”

The sniffles were back in an instant. Damn him. “Reeves, I...you really want to get a picture now? I look horrible, I can’t get a picture taken like this!”

He took the paper towel from your hand and gently dabbed at your cheeks. “You couldn’t look horrible if you tried. Come on, it’ll be fun. And just think how excited your mom will be when she gets a copy of it.”

Despite your best efforts, you had to laugh. “Okay.”

You headed to the photo area after you washed your face, Reeves helped you wipe off the stray streaks of mascara, and you reapplied just a bit of makeup to make yourself feel better. You were never sure what Reeves said to the photographer before the shots, but he seemed quite happy to take multiples. Reeves stayed pressed against your back with his arms down around your waist, hands clasped together in front of you, for each and every one.

At some point between the second and third shot, he leaned just a little closer into you and you suddenly felt his breath against your ear. “Like what you see?”

For maybe the first time that entire night, your face broke into a genuine smile. “Maybe.”

For a few minutes, your night was absolutely perfect.

The Present.

It was the greatest date that never was.

“No, Reeves was not my prom date,” you told your friends with a shake of your head.

You left out most of the other details, partly because you didn’t want to answer eight hundred questions from Vanessa and partly because, well, you just wanted those moments for yourself.

After the pictures, Reeves had asked if you would like to dance. Until then you didn’t realize it was possible for eyebrows to shoot that far up a person’s forehead, but yours were up for the challenge. You’d mumbled something about if Randie would mind, because you were sure she absolutely would, but he brushed it off. Randie had gone off with her friends when he came to find you, and he really wanted to dance with you, just one dance with his frog murder accomplice. And he said that with a straight face and a twinkle in his eye and there was no way you could refuse.

As if there was any way you’d say no.

One dance turned into two, and then several, until the girlfriend in question finally did show back up and Reeves was pulled away, leaving you with a soft smile and a mouthed “sorry”.

Definitely the greatest never-date.

After prom, life returned to what vaguely resembled normal. Your love life sucked and Reeves still had a girlfriend that wasn’t you, and you didn’t see him much. To be fair, the end of senior year and graduation did creep up pretty fast so there wasn’t a lot of time anyway. Graduation was there before you knew it; he cheered for you and you cheered for him as you each walked across the stage. You made brief appearances at each others’ graduation parties and talked a bit and then, once again before you knew what happened next, it was time to leave for college.

You went back to New York. Reeves stayed on the west coast.

And over the years, like so many other people before you and after you, you just fell out of touch.

“And anyway,” you asserted, “we were just kind of friends. Yeah, like I told Alexis before, we were lab partners sophomore year, and we hung out sometimes, but that was it. Really.”

Alexis snorted and Vanessa narrowed her eyes. “Mmmhmm.”

You threw the pillow back at her. “Mmmhmm.”

“All right, you two,” Alexis chided. “Come on, let’s get going.”

Somehow, you managed to get down to Greenwich Village without further interrogation and minimal shenanigans.

The Present. One Hour Later. Another Saturday Night.

The bar inside the club was pretty packed. Granted, it was a Saturday night down in The Village, so it wasn’t too uncommon, but you were honestly surprised that this many people showed up for a punk retrospective.

There were a few other relatively big-name acts you recognized on the bill, and a fair number of people were wearing t-shirts with Reeves’s most recent album cover on the front. There were even a few that had shirts with his face on it, which was frankly kind of weird.

“Looks like you’re not his only number one fan,” Vanessa smirked.

“I just enjoy his music,” you said off-handedly as you tried to flag down a bartender. “But anyway, tonight isn’t even about him. We’re just here to support charity, right?”

Alexis pretended to agree with you. “Right.”

You glared at both of them before turning your attention back to the bar. Yes, you came to every one of his shows in the area. When you had time. When you could take the night off. When you could rearrange your schedule and switch shifts at the last minute and promise favors to be able to attend them. When you maybe once or twice just called out sick because nothing else worked. So what.

They were really starting to get on your nerves. 

The bartender finally noticed you and took your order, and you looked around the club again while you waited.

Lots of people, ranging from just-allowed-to-buy-booze to mid-sixties businessmen. A few folks that looked to currently be in their golden years but were clearly once punks in their prime. Many people in black and chains and mohawks and neon hair and piercings, to the point where you honestly couldn’t tell who was a performer and who was a patron.

The one person you were looking for was the one that you couldn’t pick out of the crowd.

“He’s gotta be here somewhere!” Vanessa’s voice shouted from somewhere behind your shoulder.

“Vanessa, you’re getting a little weird about this,” you called back as you grabbed your drink and turned around.

“Like what you see?”

Eyes wide and mouth slightly hanging open, you almost dropped your full glass.

Vaguely, nearby, you heard the sound of glass shattering and shot a glance to your left. Alexis really had dropped her drink, and Vanessa was clutching onto her arm for dear life. She was holding her glass at a slightly odd angle and the contents were dripping onto one of her shoes.

The crowd silently pulsed backwards as one, clearing out around the four of you for a respectable distance. Several people watched curiously; surprisingly, they just stood back and stared instead of trying to get involved.

Reason Number One why you really couldn’t blame them: Reeves stood there, right in front of you. Literally less than two feet away, looking right at you. His mouth pulled up into his familiar lopsided grin, his hair still dark but shot through with strands of silver, curly on the top and shorter on the sides. His nose with the little dent, perfect on his face under those dark, luminous brown eyes and...holy shit, was he wearing eyeliner? He was wearing eyeliner.

Reason Number Two why you really couldn’t blame them: Leather pants. Under his old, faded t-shirt and black leather jacket (you were used to seeing him in brown, but you had to admit the black looked good) he was wearing leather pants.

Reason Number Three why you really couldn’t blame them: Quite simply, Reeves was standing in the middle of a bar in New York City and he was talking to you.

You blinked once, then twice. You may have blinked more times but all you could think about was the fact that, after all these years, your brain still couldn’t make words when Reeves asked you a question.

That same old question.

Suddenly you were grinning back, completely ignoring your friends and their dumbfounded squawking and sputtering next to you. You were smiling because even though your brain couldn’t make full sentences of words, it could pull one particular word out of the void and let it come out past your lips.

“Maybe.”

Reeves grinned fully now, his eyes lighting up and the crinkles at the corners deepening.

Someone - maybe Vanessa, maybe a total stranger, you couldn’t be sure - might have swooned from the sidelines.

“Always told you I wanted to come to New York,” he said.

“Always told you I’d go back.”

And the next thing you knew, the next thing that made any sense anywhere in your mind, was that Reeves had stepped forward, wrapped his arms around you, and placed the softest, sweetest, most heart-achingly gentle kiss on your lips.

You pulled away in a daze, felt the heat rising in your cheeks, as you heard a muffled choking sound halfway behind you. Definitely Vanessa.

Alexis and Vanessa’s eyes, already bugging out of their faces, nearly fell out of their sockets when Reeves turned to address them.

“Hey, ladies. I’ll come talk to you after the show, but for now, I just need to borrow your friend for a few minutes, okay?”

There were somehow still more bizarre, mostly inhuman noises that came out of your friends and even later, when they’d deny ever acting like that in front of a famous rock star (and rolled their eyes at you when you corrected them that he was a musician, not a rock star), it wouldn’t matter because you weren’t paying a single bit of attention to them them anyway.

You only had eyes for one person.

He took your hand and pulled you past the bar, into a little room in the back; the office, presumably. The second you were both inside, he wrapped his arms around your waist and looked you in the eyes. He just stared for a few minutes, or maybe hours, you weren’t sure.

It really didn’t matter.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do that?” he whispered.

“Third day of school, fourth period biology class, sophomore year?”

Reeves smiled softly. “The second you walked in that door.”

“Why didn’t you?” you tilted your head to look at him. Okay, to gaze into his eyes. You tilted your head to gaze into his eyes and your subconscious hoped to any gods that would listen that you did not have actual hearts or stars in your pupils.

Not that it really mattered.

His arms never left you but he gave a little shrug. “Never seemed to be the right time. And then I had a girlfriend.”

“Yeah,” you laughed. “And I ended up with that lame excuse for a boyfriend. But do you know how long I’ve wanted you to do that?”

“When you couldn’t stop staring at me when you sat down at the lab table next to me?”

“Hmmm, maybe. But definitely when you told the teacher we had to have a funeral for Lenny.”

“Hey, Lenny was a fuckin’ hero,” Reeves batted his eyes at you innocently. “He performed a brave and great service to his country.”

“I am oddly happy you’re still an idiot,” you giggled.

“I’m ecstatic that you kept coming to all my shows in the city.”

You pulled back slightly and looked at the ceiling. “You noticed?”

Reeves gave you that look. That look he always gave you, when you were teenagers, when you said something either completely ridiculous or completely profound. That look he gave you when he thought you might not be looking, even though you were always looking. That look that said he always had your back and you were his best friend. That look that you thought you’d be lucky to see one more time but probably never would.

That look.

“Of course I noticed. I thought about having security make you stay back, but that’s just...no. You always looked happy, and I don’t know...I just didn’t want to intrude, I guess? Just always wondered why you never stuck around after the shows, never stayed to talk to me, never came knocking on the dressing room door.”

You thought about that for a minute. You really did try, but you couldn’t come up with a decent answer. You were happy. Just seeing him was enough, you told yourself. Just hearing him sing was enough, just being in the same room with him, just being near. Just like it was back in high school.

Only it wasn’t high school anymore, and now that he’d finally, finally - after years of would’ve and should’ve and maybes - kissed you, you knew enough wasn’t going to be, well, enough.

So that’s what you told him.

And Reeves pulled you close, leaned in closer, and kissed you again.

You pulled apart, breathless again, and rested your foreheads together.

After minutes, or maybe days, or maybe hours, and definitely years - it didn’t really matter - Reeves was there. You were there. And for once, you were really there together.

“Like what you see?”

“...definitely.”

The Future. Any Day. Every Day.

You always thought, and your friends always said, that the best years of your life happened in high school. And to a certain extent, that was true and you believed in that notion for a very long time.

But ever since that night, that one glorious night in a Manhattan bar, you realized you were wrong.

The best years of your life were still happening.

~end~

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[genesisrose74]

Hinata Shoyo x Reader: Good Unexpected

Hello there! This is the first time I’ve ever posted any of my writing, so I hope you enjoy reading! I had a really fun time writing about my favorite ray of sunshine and may or may not have gotten carried away with the word count whoops :P Constructive feedback or just comments in general are welcome~

Word count:  6600

Warning(s): None

Another close win for Karasuno’s male volleyball team had a crowd on their feet and a roar echoing throughout the building. There were five volleyball courts in the structure, but none had a more rambunctious crowd in that moment than the once Flightless Crows. The match wasn’t an all too significant one, but it claimed the boys another opportunity to play in this charity tournament, and that’s all they needed to keep their drive going. In the chaos of cheering students, players on break, family members, and those who had simply been enraptured by the match, a duo of young females ushered out muffled apologies of ‘sorry’ and ‘excuse me’ more times than they could count as they edged their way through. A short blonde stuck closely beside her fellow classmate in the sea of people, letting out a breath of relief upon seeing a gap to a less crowded section of the stadium. 

“Yachi, could you text Kiyoko and tell her we’re on our way? Takinoue and Shimada said they’d take care of the banner since the next match is tomorrow,” you instructed.

“Sure thing,” Yachi replied with a small nod, fishing her phone from her back pocket.

You both continued your move down a set of stairs, searching for the main entrance to court three, on which Karasuno had just played.

“Hey, I think I see Tsukishima by the water fountain over there! The rest of the boys must be close by.” Yachi gestured to the slim middle blocker, donning the unmistakable Karasuno High VBC sweatshirt each player was given at the beginning of the season. 

“Yeah, that’s him for sure! Good eye, Yachi!” you acknowledged.

Jogging over to the towering blonde, you flashed him a warm smile in greeting. Tsukishima replied with a brief nod, his usual hello.

“Hey, Tsukki! Where’s the rest of the boys?” you inquired, now used to Tsukishima’s little expressed enthusiasm, even after a victory.

“Daichi, Sugawara and Ennoshita are checking out the standings for who we’ll face off against tomorrow, Yamaguchi is in the bathroom, and the dumbasses who share one brain cell went to check if the snack bar was open. I have no clue where the rest of them ended up,” Tsukishima listed, scrolling through his phone.

Yachi giggled at his last description of what you could only assume to be Tanaka, Nishinoya, Hinata, and likely Kageyama. Those boys had a way of getting into the stupidest situations, and their immense distaste for anything school related made their title quite fitting, although it was safe to say that you had a soft spot for the knuckleheads - especially one in particular. 

“Speak of the devil,” Tsukishima stated as he looked up from his device. Sure enough, two of said boys had returned from their little food run with bags of snacks in hand. Tanaka had already ripped open a package of beef jerky, two of the sticks stuffed in his mouth as he spoke incoherent words to his fellow second year teammate, Nishinoya.

“Hey boys!” you waved enthusiastically. “Nice win today!” 

Upon seeing you, Nishinoya and Tanaka gasped simultaneously, the remaining jerky in the latter’s mouth falling onto the floor. You could see a grossed out Tsukishima cringe in your peripheral vision, but you didn’t really mind the duo’s antics at this point. 

As everyone knows, Kiyoko was the team manager, an absolute goddess to all, and the master of avoiding the flirty nature of any guy she came across. It was evident that she had a huge effect on the rambunctious second years, two of them in particular melting any time they were given the slightest bit of attention (affectionate or otherwise) - and she could even pull a reaction out of the calmest of boys, including the ever respectful and reserved Karasuno captain from time to time.

However, despite a deep infatuation for the beautiful third year female, the team had been introduced to a new kind of character in the past year that had thrown Nishinoya and Tanaka into a frenzy: a competitive yet kindhearted first year student who just so happened to be a volleyball player herself: you. 

You had arrived in the boy’s gymnasium one afternoon, on the day of the week that the Karasuno girl’s team had practice off. You were hoping to find some tasks or drills to help out with, just to keep yourself active during your free time after school. Since Coach Ukai always appreciated an extra set of hands, especially some that held experience, you began appearing as a regular during Wednesday practices, and the team took a quick liking to you. 

Despite your focus and intensity whenever you were on the court, you were almost always there with an encouraging word or bright smile if the Karasuno boys ever needed, and your consistent sweetness caused many players to view you in a similar manner as Kiyoko. While the more reserved Kiyoko Shimizu was more or less dismissive of the constant attention she would get from boys, you were always happy to jump in and boost the team with your enthusiastic words and actions.

Nishinoya briefly brought up that he likes when girls compliment his hair? You make a little mention of how good it looks at the end of practice that day. Tanaka isn’t feeling particularly happy with his spikes? You’re sure to compliment him extra when he gets a shot off that he likes. Yamaguchi gets frustrated with his jump floaters? You offer up a few words of encouragement to keep him going. Even after practice is over and it’s just a normal day that you can spend time with the team, you happily accepted the compliments and the affection you received from the boys - specifically Nishinoya and Tanaka. Of course, you never lead them on or anything of the sort; you’re all just very close friends.

It was an interesting dynamic to say the least, but the differing personalities of you and the team manager Shimizu had two second year boys going wild to get your attention. 

But, the two troublemakers had discovered who you had your sights set on pretty quickly.

“N/n! I didn’t realize you came to watch today!” Nishinoya grinned, quickly making his way over and wrapping his arms around your midsection. You laughed and placed a hand on the libero’s head, patting his hair gently.

“Hi, Nishi,” you smiled. “Of course I came to see you all. I couldn’t miss watching my favorite libero in action, now could I?” 

“How did you think we did? Wasn’t that an awesome last set?” Tanaka joined in the conversation, giving you a side hug in greeting.

“Yeah, it was pretty exciting to watch!” you agreed. “I’m all for the heart pounding matches, so long as you boys keep winning at the end of them.” 

“You know we will!” Nishinoya smiled up at you. 

“I do know that,” you affirmed before looking around the space. “Tsukishima mentioned something about you and some of the other boys getting snacks, but right now it’s just you two. Where’s the rest of your little group of mischief-makers at?”

“Kageyama stopped by a vending machine to buy some milk. He said it was cheaper than the prices at the snack bar.” Tanaka clarified. 

“Hinata decided to stick with him to talk about the team we’re likely playing tomorrow, but they shouldn’t be far behind us.” Nishinoya concluded, a small grin playing at his lips. “Speaking of which, didn’t Hinata do pretty great, N/n? You should tell him how good he looked doing those quick attacks out on the floor today.”

You stuck your tongue out at the boy who still had his arms secured around you.

“Very funny, Nishi.” you pouted. “At this point you’re not even trying to be discreet.”

Nishinoya was the first player on the team to pick up on your attraction to Karasuno’s prized decoy. You had nearly walked into the wall of the school gymnasium while shagging volleyballs during a hitting drill, watching intently as Hinata did his approach before jumping and slamming the ball onto the other side of the court with ease. It would have been incredibly embarrassing if anyone else had witnessed your distracted movements, but fortunately Nishinoya was the only one to see, and had prevented you from smacking straight into the side of the building.

Initially, the libero thought the mishap was merely because you didn’t want to get nailed by Kageyama and Hinata’s quick attacks, but then he watched you nearly choke on your water when Hinata tossed his practice shirt off the same night, leaving the you to gape in silent astonishment as the middle blocker searched for a less sweaty replacement. Since Nishinoya was already quite close to you at the time, he was quick to corner you about the instance and declared himself an unofficial wing-man when you admitted you had feelings for the ginger.

He may or may not have let the secret slip to Tanaka one night when the three of you were walking home - and then profusely apologized to the point where tears visibly brimmed in his eyes - but Tanaka promised that he wouldn’t say anything to Hinata. Besides, even if he did make a not-so-subtle mention about you to the aspiring ace, you doubted that the dense boy would even understand Tanaka’s implications. 

Little did you know, you were just as oblivious as Hinata when it came to people crushing on you. And the two second years beside you knew much more than you did.

“Awe, you look so cute when you get all pouty,” Nishinoya chuckled, reaching up to tap you on the nose.

“Oh, hush. Don’t make me bring up the time when you went completely rigid after Kiyoko-senpai gave you a high five at the scrimmage against Nekoma last month,” you countered.

“Don’t you mean the greatest moment of my entire life?” 

“Wow, I’m hurt that she gets a higher placement than me in that regard.”

Despite being quite a bit shorter than you, Nishinoya easily hoisted you a few inches in the air and spun around, eliciting a surprised yelp on your part.

“Nishi, put me down!” you squealed, albeit laughing while doing so.

“You know how much I love you. Kiyoko might be my queen, but you’re definitely an angel sent to grace us with your presence!” he declared playfully.

The libero gently placed his friend back on the floor, a lopsided grin on his face as she ruffled his hair fondly. 

“I know, and I love you too, little Guardian Deity.” you conceded. “Now, show me what kind of snacks you bought. I forgot to grab money before I left the house, so I could use some food.”

“You got it!” Tanaka opened up his backpack filled with goodies and offered it out to you. “Take your pick. We stocked up on a lot of food to munch on for the team meeting later today.”

“Speaking of which, you should come and sit in on that! I’m sure the rest of the guys would like to see you,” Nishinoya added.

“Actually I was already planning on going,” you mentioned while acquiring a bag of pretzels from Tanaka’s stash. “I texted Kiyoko that I was going to be here today, and she said that if you boys got another win that I should come to the meeting.”

“Sweet!” Tanaka exclaimed. “Since it’s not all that late, some of us were thinking about having a small practice in the gym after. If you had the time, it would be fun to have you stick around and maybe play if you wanted.”

“That sounds like fun!” you smiled, “just make sure you all don’t tire yourselves out completely before tomorrow’s game.”

Tanaka gasped dramatically, “We wouldn’t dream of it.”

“-I’m just saying that you have a serious obsession with milk, Kageyama. It’s almost unhealthy.”

“Milk is a good source of calcium, you dumbass. So what if I drink a lot of it?”

“If you had the chance to marry a carton of milk, you absolutely would.”

“Would you shut up already?”

Two voices bickered back and forth as they approached the area near your little group. To anyone even barely associated with Karasuno’s volleyball team, these two arguing idiots would be easy to recognize from a mile away, and sure enough, a head of fluffy orange hair rounded the corner, quarreling with his dark haired teammate.

“Are they seriously having an argument about Kageyama and his milk?” Tanaka questioned.

“I’m honestly not even surprised at this point,” you sighed.

“Hey, morons!” Tanaka yelled at the two boys, who snapped their heads in the direction of their senpai’s distinct voice. “Quit fighting with each other and get the hell over here!”

You could feel your stomach flip involuntarily. Despite seeing the aspiring Karasuno ace many times during Wednesday practices and around school, it was always a sight to behold whenever he was suited up in the official team uniform. Hinata always got into these moments of intense focus during matches, which you deeply admired, and you affiliated such occasions with the jersey he always donned during each game. The look quickly became one of your favorites, but that piece of information was never shared with the boys. Only Kiyoko and Yachi knew about that secret preference, which they had promised to never bring up near any of the Karasuno team.

You were thrown out of your stupor when Nishinoya nudged you knowingly, a single eyebrow raised in a playful challenge. You only scoffed and shook your head, giving the libero a little nudge in return. 

“Such a schemer, Nishi.” you murmured.

“You’re such a scaredy-cat.” he muttered in response. “Go compliment him about the game or something, you do it all the time with me and Tanaka.”

“It’s not that easy.” 

“Excuses, excuses~”

You huffed in exasperation, sparing another look at the little ray of sunshine with which you were so enamored. At this distance, the boy was close enough to recognize you, and you felt a gentle smile grow on your face when warm brown eyes met your own. You offered him a small wave in greeting, as you both were still a ways away from each other.

Hinata was quick to close that distance upon seeing you from across the hallway, making a beeline for the familiar girl that he had grown to love seeing walk through the gymnasium doors every week. He was glad to see you whenever he got the chance; you were always there to help him and Kageyama practice a few more quick attacks after practice concluded, always ready to try a few serves of your own when the boys wanted to get in some extra receives, always happy to help the young decoy with his studies when a particularly difficult exam was near. Not to mention, he found you to be the prettiest person out of his entire class of first years, so that was a plus.

The whole team may or may not know about Hinata’s very obvious affections, despite the boy not telling a single soul about the way his heart goes bwah!! whenever he thinks about you. Tanaka and Nishinoya found the entire ordeal utterly agonizing, being the only two boys on the team knowledgeable of your own feelings, and being sworn to secrecy about that fact. The Karasuno manager and the manager-in-training also knew the irony of the situation, but they didn’t dare meddle in your love life.

If your friends were all being honest with themselves, as torturous as it was to watch you two timid first years dance around each other’s feelings all the time, it was also incredibly adorable to watch your interactions. The usually loud and energetic middle blocker would lose all sense of function every time you would praise his game play, to the point where Kageyama had to kick his teammate from behind to get him to focus again. Hinata swore he nearly ascended when you had launched into his arms after beating Shiratorizawa in the Spring High Finals.

Yet, despite these moments of mutually lingering gazes and light blushes that often dusted both of your faces, the ginger rationalized that you acted this way towards every player on the team, and brushed such encounters with you off as nothing but platonic. He didn’t mind simply being friends, if that's all he could be. He was content so long as he got to be near you.

“Hey, Y/n! I didn’t know you were coming to watch the game today,” Hinata addressed you with a smile that put a blazing summer sun to shame.

“I wanted it to be a surprise! The student council meeting ended up being shorter than expected, so I called Kiyoko and let her know that I was on my way,” you explained. You then turned to Kageyama, who had eventually made his way over to the small group. “Nice game today, Kags. That one set you sent to Asahi in the second match from behind the attack line was insane.”

Karasuno’s starting setter nodded in acknowledgement of the commendation. “Thank you.”

Tanaka and Nishinoya, now standing next to their two teammates, aggressively attempted to gesture to Hinata with their eyes; a silent urge to get you to say something to the boy.

“And I think that one super fast quick attack you guys pulled off in the final set was really cool,” you tagged on. “It’s always fun to see the other team’s reactions whenever that happens.”

The two second years shot you a deadpan look. That’s not exactly what they meant, but they could see you struggling to string together any coherent sentence to your crush and decided not to press any further. You just couldn’t help it! You wanted to tell the present ray of sunshine that he played a great game, that he always played amazingly, despite his occasionally awkward receives or missed serves. He always gave each match 110%, and you wanted to express to him just how phenomenal he was, but just couldn’t find the right words without the fear of sounding completely obsessive and embarrassing. Nishinoya and Tanaka both glanced at each other, a silent agreement occurring between them in a matter of seconds. 

Unlike Yachi and Kiyoko, the two boys weren’t opposed to a little meddling.  

“Y/n is going to come to the meeting and maybe stay for that extra practice time we have planned,” Nishinoya mentioned, saving you from trying (and failing) to say anything else.

Hinata’s eyes lit up at the news. “For real? That’s great!” 

The middle blocker enjoyed your presence at the Wednesday practices you’d attend, especially since it was where he got to witness your competitive and athletic side. So, getting to see more of that was welcomed any time. 

You nodded in affirmation and popped a miniature pretzel in your mouth. “And since I was just dropped off at the complex and kind of need a ride, Kiyoko said that there was plenty of room for me to go back on the bus.”

“Hell yeah there is!” Tanaka grinned, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “You can sit with me and Nishinoya, duh.”

You smiled up at him. “Well obviously. Who else would I sit with?”

Nishinoya cheered, picking his game bag off the floor and gently grasping your hand. “Well let’s go find the others, then! Coach Ukai is probably getting impatient waiting for us at this point,” the libero insisted, pulling you towards the doorway of the building with Tanaka in tow. 

“Alright, alright! Don’t make me drop my pretzels, Nishi,” you warned, letting yourself get dragged by the excited teen.

Hinata, Kageyama, and Tsukishima also started to gather their things to get on the bus, Yamaguchi doing the same after exiting the bathroom not long before the previous trio ran off to claim their seats. Tsukishima looked over at Hinata, who still had his eyes glued to the door from which his friends had just left, and seized the opportunity to try to get under Hinata’s skin just a little. 

“Nishinoya and her are pretty close, don’t you think?” he mentioned briefly, before turning on his heel towards the doorway with Yamaguchi beside him. The pinch server spared a glance back at Hinata as he fell into step with his childhood friend. “Tsukki…” 

Now Nishinoya was clearly a close friend to Hinata, as both of the boys were big balls of energy all the time, and as they both shared an immense love for volleyball. Hinata acknowledged his teammate’s tight knit relationship with you, and he was totally okay with that fact. But occasionally, the middle blocker would get a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach that he had never really experienced before as he watched you interact with some of the boys on the team. It wasn’t an excessive amount of instances, but that feeling would bubble up from time to time - most notably when you would spend time with Karasuno’s libero. And whatever that feeling was, Hinata didn’t like it in the slightest.

“Oi, you coming, dumbass?” Kageyama questioned, snapping the ginger out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, I’m coming, Bakeyama,” the middle blocker replied, readjusting his backpack and following Kageyama to the door.

******

The team was glad to see that you had come to watch them play, and you were quick to praise the boys on their well fought match. The ride back to school was relatively quiet, as many of the players wanted to either relax and listen to music or take a quick nap after their tiring game. As the bus continued on its route to Karasuno High School, it was evident that the energy and adrenaline felt earlier in the complex had calmed down, the boys given a chance to rest from the day’s events.

You, Nishinoya and Tanaka were seated near the back of the bus, with Hinata and Kageyama in the adjacent row. Tanaka was out like a light, his face pressed against the cool window next to him, while Nishinoya was struggling to get situated in the spot beside his teammate. From the corner of his eye, the libero could see Hinata sneaking subtle glances at you, as you unsuspectingly gazed at the passing scenery. With a mischievous smile playing at the corners of his lips, Nishinoya decided to kill two birds with one stone: try to help out with his friends’ crushes, and try to get himself a more comfortable napping spot.

“Hey, would you mind doing me a favor?” Nishinoya asked you in a soft tone, but just loud enough for the boy on the other side of the aisle to hear. You turned your attention to the libero, tilting your head to the side. “Sure thing, Nishi. What do you need?” 

“Could I maybe lie down on you? It’s been a little difficult to find a decent position to get comfortable in,” he asked sheepishly. “If not, I totally get it.”

You smiled at the light pink that dusted his cheeks, and you patted your lap. “It’s alright, go ahead. You deserve to get some rest.”

Nishinoya offered you a smile of his own. He placed his legs over Tanaka’s snoozing form, knowing that his friend wouldn’t mind as they had been in similar positions on previous team bus rides. He then placed his head gently in your lap, gazing up at you before speaking up once more. “Thank you. You’re seriously the best.” 

“It’s not a problem at all,” you waved it off. 

The libero closed his eyes, sighing contentedly when he felt your hand brush through his hair. You absentmindedly hummed the soothing melody to a lullaby as you let your fingers carefully undo any tangles on his head. You paid special attention to the blonde streaks of hair that you always told the second year you adored, twirling the strands between your fingers and letting them fall back into place. 

You were completely ignorant to the fact that the boy on the other end of the aisle felt a burning envy in his stomach as he witnessed the display from his peripheral vision. Your voice, which would have mesmerized Hinata under any other circumstance, did nothing to ease the emotions licking at his insides like unpleasant tendrils of flame. He desperately wanted to be able to sidle up next to you, wanted to feel your hands weave gently through his messy ginger hair. The fact that it wasn’t him made Hinata feel nauseous - worse than how he felt before a big game. 

Because although Hinata was absolutely fine with you being close to the boys on his team, it didn’t mean he couldn’t get jealous.

Seated beside the middle blocker, Kageyama took note of his friend’s clenched fists and slightly tightened jaw, a stark contrast to Hinata’s usual happy-go-lucky enthusiasm. One look at the opposite side of the bus blatantly explained why. Kageyama was confused, though; Nishinoya knew just as much as the rest of the team that the decoy had his sights set on you, so why was he disregarding that fact right in front of him? The libero either didn’t realize what he was doing would upset his friend, or he knew exactly what he was up to. Was the whole thing intentional?

*****

Ohhh, it absolutely was. Kageyama figured that much out as soon as the team meeting started.

Nishinoya had been occasionally looking at Hinata to gauge the boy’s reaction, being careful not to overstep his boundaries, but pushing it just enough to see if the ginger would step in and make a move on you. From what Kageyama could tell, Tanaka was also in on this plan, but the wing spiker let his fellow second year handle most of the interactions with the brunette.

You were settled next to Kiyoko on the gymnasium floor, sitting with your legs stretched out as you listened in on the meeting. Nishinoya had his head resting on your shoulder the entire time, only shifting from his spot to steal more snacks from Tanaka’s backpack. If it weren’t for what Hinata had witnessed in the bus earlier that evening, he likely would have thought nothing of the second year’s actions. But now it was all he could think about, barely even focusing on the words coming out of Coach Ukai’s mouth. That feeling in his gut still hadn’t left him alone.

His discomfort was even more apparent when a number of the boys stayed behind after the meeting for some extra practice. Sugawara, who was the only third year who decided to postpone his walk home (mostly to keep an eye on his rambunctious children juniors), helped divide the group of six players into teams. Kageyama, Nishinoya, and Tanaka were on one team of three, while Suga, Hinata, and you were on the other. Despite the fact that he was on the same team as you, the middle blocker was still in a distant mood, and this showed when he completely botched the first two sets Suga tossed to him. 

“Are you alright, Hinata? You seem a bit off at the moment,” you spoke softly behind him. When the ginger didn’t answer, she frowned slightly. “Shoyo…”

His first name coming from you had Hinata’s face heating up, not just because he loved the way his first name sounded on your lips, but because he was embarrassed. His bitter emotions had completely messed up his game, and caused him to practically ignore your concerned inquiry. 

“Yeah, I’m alright. Just a little tired is all,” he brushed it off. “I‘ll be good to go now that I’ve warmed up a bit.”

“Oh, okay. Tell me if you need some water or anything, your face looks hot.” You instantly flushed at the choice of words. “I mean, it looks warm! Like a red - you know what I mean.” 

Tanaka snickered at your stammering, and you shot him a glare of annoyance before turning on your heel to retrieve the volleyball that had rolled away from the group.

After that, the three-on-three game went pretty smoothly. Hinata was in a better mood, working well together with his two partners. You even got a few good spikes in during the match (although a majority of them were thwarted by Karasuno’s Guardian Deity). Before you all realized it, the moon was shining brightly in the sky, and Suga instructed everyone to go home and get rest in preparation for tomorrow’s first game. After putting back the equipment the group had borrowed from the storage room, you were on your way out the gym doors, until the voices of Tanaka and Nishinoya stopped you midway.

“Wait up, Y/n!” The libero called out to her. You turned her attention towards him, a soft smile resting on your face after the impromptu practice. 

“There’s no way you’re walking home all by yourself at this time of night.” Tanaka declared firmly, and Nishinoya nodded his head vigorously.

“I’ll be fine, you guys. Besides, neither of you live all that close to me, so it would be unreasonable of you to walk me home,” you told them.

“Well, doesn’t Hinata live in the same area as you do? Why doesn’t he walk you home?” Nishinoya suggested.

On the other end of the gym, Hinata had caught wind of the conversation. The ginger’s head perked up at the idea of accompanying you home, and standing beside him, Kageyama finally realized what the two second years had been up to the whole day. You narrowed your eyes at the boys in suspicion, but you couldn’t deny that it was a good idea to have someone else with you at this hour. You gazed over at your fellow first years, finding that Hinata was already looking your way, and a light shade of pink dusted your face.

“I mean, if he wouldn’t mind it, I suppose it would probably be smart,” you shrugged.

“It’s not a problem at all,” he uttered out.

Tanaka and Nishinoya shared a sly grin. This was the most that the two could do for their two dense kohais, so the rest was up to you both.

“If you’re uh, ready to go, my bike is just outside,” Hinata sputtered. 

“Oh! Yeah, I’m good to go,” you responded with an awkward thumbs up that you mentally smacked yourself for.

“Don’t go having too much fun now,” Tanaka smirked. “He’s still gotta play tomorrow.”

His raised eyebrows and overall suggestive expression were met with a playful smack on the arm. 

“Shut up, you big weirdo,” you scoffed, and before any more comments could be made by your two dorks of friends, you rushed out the gym door after Hinata.

Seeing the boy waiting outside for you, his fiery orange hair illuminated by the glimmering starlight like a cliche movie scene, you nearly tripped on the staircase by the school’s entrance. When he turned to you with an easy smile, your heart practically busted out of your chest. Damn him and his cute face. 

You approached him at the gate and readjusted the bag on your shoulders, trying to remain calm at the realization that you were going to be alone with her favorite ray of sunshine. Beginning on the path up the hill, Hinata decides to push his bike alongside him in order to stay closer to you.

“I didn’t realize you lived that close to me until Noya said something tonight,” the middle blocker mentioned. 

You raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Really? I’m surprised you haven’t been over before.”

“Maybe I should come visit sometime.” Hinata’s eyes widened at the implication and quickly added, “Like, with the rest of the team!”

You laughed softly. “That sounds like fun.”

You both walked in a slightly uncomfortable silence for a moment, before Hinata spoke up.

“So, does that mean Nishinoya has been over to your place before?” he asked.

“Yeah, he’s been over a few times now,” you confirmed. 

“Oh, that's cool.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed at his response, his voice laced with what you could only recognize as disappointment. 

“Why do you ask?” you inquired.

“Well, you both just seemed really close is all.” The first year ran a hand through his hair. “Even Tsukishima noticed.” 

“Well, Nishi and I are really good friends, and we know a lot about each other, so I guess that’s an accurate description.”

Hinata glanced at you and titled his head a fraction, which you thought made him look like an adorable little puppy.

“Really good...friends?” he murmured.

You nodded affirmatively. “Yeah, he’s like an older brother. Did you think we were dating or something?” you laughed. You meant it as a joke, but when the boy didn’t reply, your eyes widened a fraction and you stopped walking. 

“You thought me and Nishi were, like, together together?” you gaped. 

At this point Hinata was burning red. He nodded bashfully, and you fell into fits of giggles, placing your hands on your knees for support. 

“H-hey! It was a justified question!” Hinata defended himself. “He fell asleep on you in the bus today and it looked like a normal thing for you two, so I just figured!”

You stood straight and composed yourself, a teasing smile playing on your lips as you started walking again.

“As much as I love Nishinoya, we’re definitely not dating,” you explained. “It’s a platonic relationship, nothing more.”

Hinata mentally celebrated at the confirmation that there was nothing going on between you and the libero, although he was embarrassed beyond words at this point in the conversation.

“I’m super sorry!! I just thought- I shouldn’t have assumed,” he apologized, scratching the back of his head. 

“Awe, it’s okay, Shoyo. I guess we do act a bit like a couple sometimes, but...I’m not actually seeing anyone at the moment.” You added on without a second thought, “Nishi knows who I really like, though.”

Hinata frowned a bit at the latter sentence, but he remained in a better mood than before.

“So…do I know this person?” he inquired, feeling quite courageous himself. 

You hummed, a blush creeping up your neck. “So what if you do?”

“Is it someone on the team?” 

“Are we playing twenty questions or something now?” you laughed nervously. 

Stupid! Why did I even mention anything in the first place? you mentally cursed yourself.

The ginger felt his heart rate pick up. Out of hope or anxiety, he wasn’t exactly sure.

“What’s he like?” Hinata heard himself asking. 

You couldn’t help but smile fondly at the ironic inquiry, and decided to answer his question.

“He’s probably the most energetic person I’ve ever met, but in a good way. He’s really kind to everyone, even though he can get very competitive. While he’s not the most studious, I can tell he tries his hardest to do his best in everything he does. Not to mention he’s incredibly cute.” You chanced a glance at the intently staring first year for a brief moment before focusing your attention back on the sidewalk, thankful for the dim lights of the street. “Sometimes I find it just…so difficult to not mess with his hair, too. It’s so overwhelmingly fluffy.

Hinata let out a small sigh. He didn’t think there was any way he could compete with the special someone that you had described so fondly. 

“Well, it sounds like you really like him,” he said simply, a halfhearted smile on his face. “He’s a really lucky guy, whoever he is.” 

At his genuine tone, you raised her head to lock eyes with Hinata, who was looking at you with such an honest expression that your breath hitched in your throat. You slowed down in the middle of the empty walkway.

“It’s you, ya big dummy,” you admitted quietly, fiddling nervously with your sweatshirt sleeves.��

Hinata heard it. You could tell that much from the way his eyes widened as he stopped dead in his tracks. 

“It’s me?” he echoed.

You nodded once, not able to speak as you evaluated his reaction. Hinata clumsily pushed the kickstand of his bike down with wide eyes, maneuvering around it to step closer to you and examine your face, trying to determine if this was real or all in his head.

“I like you too. Like a lot,” he managed to confess, a delighted grin gracing his features.

You felt like you were dreaming and about to wake up at any moment, the urge to pinch yourself just for confirmation that this was all real itching at the back of your mind. But your train of coherent thought quickly dissipated when Hinata gingerly moved a hand up to your flushed cheek, brushing your jaw with his thumb and looking up with warm brown eyes. 

“Could I kiss you?” he asked gently, voice barely above a whisper.

“Please do,” you conceded.

Hinata brushed his lips with yours, in a brief but sweet exchange. He did so the second time in the same manner to experiment, and again, just to confirm that this moment was actually happening, before all but backing you into the bike behind them as you tugged at the collar of his shirt. His lips were softer than expected, and you tasted the fruity flavor of what you assumed to be lip balm lingering on them. You could feel the boy grinning into the kiss, this one longer and firmer than their predecessors, and you eagerly tangled your fingers in his fluffy orange hair that was impossibly softer than imagined. His own hands found themselves planted firmly on your waist to secure you from losing balance, drawing small circles into your sides with his thumbs. Your entire body was buzzing with excitement, practically melting when Hinata traced your bottom lip with his tongue. 

Hinata pulled away briefly to catch his breath, a fire blazing in his eyes that had you shying away from his gaze. He took a hand off of your waist and tilted your face back towards him with his index finger, a newfound confidence radiating off of the first year in droves that had you flushing darker than you thought possible.

“Shoyo,” you spoke his name softly, pulling a bit at the fiery strands of hair still twirled between your fingers. The little hum elicited from Hinata’s throat was one of your new favorite sounds.

“Please use my first name more often,” the boy breathed out, and you couldn’t help but laugh airily at the request, Hinata unable to suppress the satisfied smile that bloomed across his flushed face at the sound.

“That was… unexpected,” you murmured. 

“Good unexpected?” the ginger inquired playfully. 

“Very good unexpected,” you joked lightly.

Hinata wrapped you in a warm hug, snuggling his face into the crook of your neck. You reciprocated the action, arms encircling around his figure, taking in everything that had happened with an enormous smile.

You might just have to thank Nishinoya later.

[tellywoodtrash]

immj2 23.12.20 lb

V is talking about helping out some destitute mothers and riddhima is like omgggggggggggggg, he wanted the money to help them outtttttttt 😭😭😭 man, she’s suchhhhhhhhhh a fucking idiot. changes her opinion at the drop of a hat; as long as she had heard just “mera kaam” she was like OMG HE WANTS TO BLOW UP THE PLACE, the moment he said “gareeb maaon ki madad” she’s assumed that allllllll the 5 crore he’s asked for are purely for charity. sis, the middle road, have you everrrrrrrrrrr heard of it???

now she’s convinced ki yeh vihaan nahi vansh hai. because apparently only vansh holds the opinion that gareeb maaon ko madad karni chahiye............. no one else in the world has such charitable thoughts???? re devaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.

everyone is dancing, and vansh is just standing there checking his phone. lmao, meeeeeeeeeeeeee.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE 🥰🥰🥰

anyway, dadi brought riddhima to him and now they shall have the *~~~~~third~~~~~~* OTT dance performance in 24 hours. why don’t you channel all this energy into some competitive ballroom dancing or something. at least that’s a productive use of your time, unlike........... everything else you losers do all day.

but they hot, so i’m not reallyyyyyyyyy complaining. yeah babiesssss, press up against each other and run your hands alllllllllllllllll over. mmmmmmhmmm.

EYE SEX EYE SEX EYE SEX  EYE SEXXXXXXXXXX

light chali gayi. the oberois ke zamaane ka ghatiya fusebox abhi tak badla nahi tum logon ne??????????

kabir and vansh are missing.

ok we found one of them.

aaaaaaaaand he’s activated the bomb.

ok i can’t watch this santa shit without cringing, so imma fwd to when the action happens.

RIDDHIMA LOOKING AT SANTA AND SAYING IT’S VIHAAN’S CHAAL. SIS.............................. YOU CAN’T TELL FROM A SINGLE LOOK AT THIS PERSON THAT IT’S KABIR?????????????? I............. HADH HOTI HAI BEWAKOOFI KI.

kabir!santa is giving dadi gift and riddhima’s making her way towards them.......................

................ when she’s intercepted by a whole other santa, who’s a chappal chor.

how the fuck vansh!santa know that there’s a bomb in her shoe anyway???????????????

EITHER WAY I’M DYING OF SECONDHAND EMBARRASSMENT SEEING VISHAL AND RRAHUL IN THE WORST SANTA BEARDS EVER SO I’M FWDINGGGGGGGGGGG

this episode just wants to fucking kill me by cringe. pls god stop doing this to my hot boys. please. 

he’s taking off the santa suit anddddddddddd..........

(i know we’re all very excited at the prospect of V taking his shirt off, but please note, ki kabir!santa has switched out for mummy!santa. how??? no one knows or cares.)

also, i wish my skin healed that quickly from the 20 bumps and bruises and mosquito/chandler bites i get in a day.

lmao the camera just did a TIGHTTTTTTTTTTTTT closeup into his lower back and while i am delighted, i also wish it was framed a lil better so i could also see dat ass in those pants. 🍑🍑🍑

anyway riddhima is like:

poora outfit pehen ke hi bhai bolega. till then we have to stand here and watch him getting dressed. again, i’m not complaining, but i would prefer the reverse..............

ishani’s like riddhima ke shoe mein bomb?!?!?!!? whattt?!?!?! who could do such a thing???? whooooooo would wanna kill riddhima?!?!? lmaooooooooooooo as if her own bitch ass (along with every single other person in this house other than dadi) hasn’t been trying to fucking murder riddhima on a daily basis. y’all have some nerve looking this shocked.

he’s like i know who did it, vansh knows everything blah blah, i hacked everyone’s phones and it took me time but i found out who purchased bomb making materials........ EXCUSE ME BUT EVERYONE IS VERY VERYYYYY CHILL AND NON-BOTHERED ABOUT THE FACT THAT HE HACKED THEIR PHONES????? THEY’RE JUST USED TO IT, HUH, LIVING IN THIS SURVEILLANCE STATE THAT IS UNDER THE DICTATOR VANSH RAISINGHANIA????? THEY’RE LITERALLY LIKE DEAR LEADER NE KIYA HAI, TOH ACHCHE KE LIYE HI KIYA HOGA..................

anyway he found a piece of the sandal heel somewhere, and idk how but understood ki it’s riddhima’s sandal and that’s the one with the bomb and oh my god this is the stupidest fucking episode of this show i’ve seen so far, and that’s really saying SOMETHING,coz every episode of this show is a new and unique type of stupid.

anyway, long story short.................

this..... i......... god. this stupid fucking show. the explosion wasn’t THAT long also ki allllll this coulda happened without anyone noticing.

anyway Mummy did it coz she knows one of them gonna get fucked up rn and if kabir is thrown out, there’s no way back for him. she can do emotional drama blah blah.

Mummy doing maaaaa wali drama ki riddhima insulted my kokh ka sagaaaaaa, so i did this blah blah and lmao vansh like list khol hi dii hai toh pooori ki poori ginwa deta hoon ki kya kya paap kiye hain kabir ke naam pe.

ooooooooooooooooooooop. OG Maa ka murder waala sach baahar aa gaya. how he knows? no1 currrrrrrr.

didi ko finally realize ho gaya ki this her main man, not a humshakal.

bhai ALSO realizing ki this his main man, not a humshakal.

mummy doing acting and kabir also joining in with support role ki nahiiiiiiiiiiii, it can’t beeeeeeee. (vishal doing some solid acting in this scene, he really deserves so much more from this show than these bits and pieces to perform.)

vansh like achchaaaaaa????? tu bada bol raha hai........ ab bol.

kabir be like ab toh aadat si hai mujhko aise jeene mein; har hafte, do hafte isne merepe bandook nahi taani toh thoda off sa feel hota hai mujhe. like he doesn’t really appreciate or value me anymore. iss se apnapann lagta hai.

anyway vansh like, ok anyone wanna tell me the truth NOW?

yup. feeling very truthy rn, with a gun pointed at raja beta’s kanpatti.

oh man, poor baby. he knew it, but still couldn’t be easy to hear it.

someone hold her!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

these two be like daaaaaaang, we gotta up our game if we wanna survive in this house. our plans are all hella weak and amateurish compared to the shit going on here.

december be the month that dadiiiiii really came into her own with the slapping. errrrrryone getting slapped around here. lord when will she slap the fuck outta vansh for HIS never-ending bs, that’s the episode i’m waiting for with bated breath. 

she’s yelling at vansh to call the police and curiously...................

INTERESTING. VERY INTERESTING. that he’d trust kabir of allllllllllll people to arrest his own mom?????????????? seems hella sus to me, girls. kuchhhhhhh toh gadbad hai. either vansh has more of a plan to make these two’s jeena mushkil, ya *excited gasp* KABIR AND VANSH ARE A TEAMMMMMMMMM FROM THE START. (i know it’s not the case. they’ll never give me that. but a girl can hope. i would die of happy if it came true!)

kabir doing some ghamasaaaaaaaaan acting about how he’s heartbroken that his own mom is a criminal, yadda yadda yadda, MY QUESTION IS, WHEN DID HE EVEN GET REINSTATED TO DUTY, THAT HE HAS THE RIGHT TO ARREST HER???? I’M TELLING YOU THIS IS ALL SO SHADY AS HELL.

ofc dadi is due for a swooning fit now.

uss confusion mein..........

sis, you really need to go to therapy about this fucked up tendency you have to keep jumping in front of bullets for this dude. like......... ppl want to shoot him for a reason. it’s coz he deserves it. how many you gonna intercept like this????? like, let him also catch a bullet or two once in a while. it’ll knock his akad down a peg or two.

anyway yeah. he finally fucking told her.

[laughsinhidden]

Relationship/General Info Alphabet: Atsuko Saito

A pure angel.

A-Activity (favorite activity to do with their partner)

Atsuko honestly just enjoys sitting with her partner. Whether talking or not- the silence is never uncomfortable. She also loves drawing- whether on them or using them as a model.

B-Beginnings (how do they act at the beginning of the relationship)

Atsuko is... extremely awkward at the beginning. She’s constantly afraid she’s going to mess something up and ruin everything. She tries far too hard.

C-Communication (how good are they at communicating? How do they normally talk about their problems or solve issues)

Not... very. Atsuko tends to keep to herself, not wanting to burden others with her problems. She’s too much of a people pleasure to say if something is bothering her. She’ll get there eventually.

D- Drunk (what are they like when they’re drunk)

She doesn’t drink, so no one really knows. (If she did she would 100% be a giggly drunk)

E-Emergency(what are they like in an emergency situation? They’re partner gets hurt, they get hurt, someone is dying etc)

Atsuko is surprisingly calm and collected during an emergency situation- especially medical emergencies. She’ll jump straight into action and get shit *done* as best as she can. She takes charge because she *knows what she’s doing*. If someone she loves(ie: her partner) is involved, the chances of her snapping at someone raise astronomically- that’s how you know she’s panicking on the inside. After everything is said and done and her loved one is taken care of, then and only then will she break. She’ll probably cry a lot and repeatedly apologize for being so ‘bossy’ and ‘snapping’ at people.

F- Free Spot

Atusko is autistic. She tends to stim verbally by humming the same short tune over and over again, and a lot of the time doesn’t even realize she’s doing it. She does go nonverbal occasionally, and when she does the tip of her tongue tends to poke out.

G- Gifts (what kind of gifts do they give? What kind do they like to recieve?)

She gives small, practical gifts- gifts she knows the receiver will use/enjoy. She also likes drawing for her friends, and will randomly give them pieces she’s satisfied with.

Any gift is fine by her. She would be happy with a pretty rock they found on the ground thirty seconds ago. She didn’t get many gifts, if any at all, growing up, so she’s grateful just for the fact that they were thinking of her.

H- Hugs (how do they show affection/cuddle)

Normally, Atsuko is very touched averted- specifically to the opposite gender. She keeps to herself for the most part, only touching someone if it’s necessary or she has explicit permission.

With her partner she is *extremely* cuddly. She will hang off of their arm or nuzzle into their side whenever possible. She gives the cutest little butterfly kisses.

I-Irritation (what is something that irritates them? How do they show their irritation)

Atsuko is very irritated by self-righteousness. She’ll keep quiet in the moment, but later will mutter and rant about it to her partner. Her main tell is that she’ll start picking at her nails- it keeps her from strangling the other person.

J-Jackpot( how would they spend their money if they won the lottery)

Charity. Every single penny of it would go to charity. She has no need for material things.

K-Kryptonite(what is their ultimate weakness?)

Children. Atsuko will throw *everything* away to protect a child. Her relationships, her social standing, even her own life.

L-Laughter (what makes them laugh)

Th stupidest shit. The absolute dumbest shit will make her laugh, she’s the type to laugh at lame puns or wordplay.

M-Morning(how do they wake up in the morning? Are they a morning person or a morning grouch?)

Atsuko is, grudgingly, a morning person. If she could sleep in, she would. But her internal clock is set to wake her at 4:30 AM sharp every day, and not let her go back to sleep. She’s usually not grumpy in the mornings, but she is even quieter than usual until she’s fully awake.

N-Needy (when do they feel particularly needy? How do they show it?)

Honestly, all the time. Like, literally all the time. But she tends to hide it pretty well most of the time. When she can’t, she usually shows it by being especially clingy, batting at her partners hands in an attempt to get attention, fluttering her eyelashes at them when they make eye contact, etc.

O- Oasis (Where is their happy place? Where would they go if they didn’t have anything holding them back?)

The countryside. Not to her old church, no. But she still loves the country.It relaxes her- she’s not used to all the noise of the city.

P- Pain (How do they handle pain? How do they handle when their partner is in pain?)

Atsuko has a decent pain tolerance, and can manage to power through most scrapes and bruises she might get. It’s no big deal!

When her *partner* is in pain, however, she kicks the loving into high gear. She will coddle them and wait on them hand and foot if they’ll let her.

Q- Quote (What’s a quote that fits them and their relationship)

“To have someone truly understand your mind is a different kind of intimacy.”

R- Reunion (How do they celebrate seeing their partner after a long time of being apart)

Cuddles. Lots and lots of cuddles. And butterfly kisses.

S- Stress (What stresses them out? How do deal with stress and how do they relieve it?)

A lot of things stress her out, and she tends to deal with it by distracting herself. Whether it’s knitting, cleaning, drawing, reorganizing literally everything in the infirmary for the third time this *week*- She’ll find something.

T- Terror (What are they afraid of?)

As the rest of the world, losing a loved one. But other than that, Atsuko is afraid of being alone or being sent back home. The idea of being left on her own absolutely terrifies her, and it’s one of the reasons she’s such a people pleaser.

U- Unique (What is a quirk that is unique to them?)

Atsuko has a habit of wrapping the chain of her cross too tightly around her finger when she gets nervous. When she was younger, she actually wrapped it so tight it tore into her skin. She has a scar there, but it doesn’t stop her.

V- Violence (Do they fight a lot? Are they a good fighter? What is their fighting style?)

No, no, and throwing things. Atsuko is a healer, and she hates fighting. But if she has to fight, she prefers throwing things from a distance. She can usually hold her own for at least a little bit, but usually she goes down pretty easily- not for lack of trying

W- Wow (What does their partner do that really surprises them? What do they do that their partner  really likes?)

Likes her- In all honesty, the fact that they make time to spend with her is a surprise. She doesn’t like taking time away from ‘more important things’.

Her partner tends to like how sweet and caring she is, going out of her way to make them feel better if they’re upset or sick.

X- (Explicit headcanon. For all you degenerates)

Atsuko wears lacey undergarments because she loves the way lace looks, and ‘no one’s ever gonna see it, right?’

Y- Yucky (Is there something that grosses them out so badly that they can’t deal with it?)

Atsuko has trypophobia- clusters of small holes make her feel like she’s going to puke.

Z- ZZZ’s (What are their sleeping habits? Both with and without their partner)

Atsuko is a very small sleeper. She tends to sleep curled up in a ball when she’s by herself. But when with her partner, she is the biggest cuddlebug you will ever find. She loves resting her head on their chest or nuzzling into their side. She loves being little spoon, but sometimes she’ll just latch onto her lovers back and nuzzle her face into them.

[bukstins]

Nassim Nicholas Taleb Has Never Borrowed a Cent in His Life

People ask me my forecast for the economy when they should be asking me what I have in my portfolio. Don’t make pronouncements on what could happen in the future if you’re immune from the consequences. In French, they use the same word for wallet and portfolio.

I have never, ever borrowed a penny. So I have zero credit record. No loans, no mortgage, nothing. Ever. When I had no money, I rented. I have an allergy to borrowing and a scorn for people who are in debt, and I don’t hide it. I follow the Romans’ attitude that debtors are not free people.

I carry euros, dollars, and British pounds. What I do with my money is personal. People who say they give it to charity, that’s a no-no in my book. Nobody should ever talk about a charitable act in public.

Better to miss a zillion opportunities than blow up once. I learned this at my first job, from the veteran traders at a New York bank that no longer exists. Most people don’t understand how to handle uncertainty. They shy away from small risks, and without realizing it, they embrace the big, big risk. Businessmen who are consistently successful have the exact opposite attitude: Make all the mistakes you want, just make sure you’re going to be there tomorrow.

Don’t invest any energy in bargaining except when the zeros become large. Lose the small games and save your efforts for the big ones.

There’s nothing wrong with being wrong, so long as you pay the price. A used-car salesman speaks well, they’re convincing, but ultimately, they are benefiting even if someone else is harmed by their advice. A bullshitter is not someone who’s wrong, it’s someone who’s insulated from their mistakes.

There is less “skin in the game” today than there was fifty years ago, or even twenty years ago. More people determine the fates of others without having to pay the consequences. Skin in the game means you own your own risk. It means people who make decisions in any walk of life should never be insulated from the consequences of those decisions, period. If you’re a helicopter repairman, you should be a helicopter rider. If you decide to invade Iraq, the people who vote for it should have children in the military. And if you’re making economic decisions, you should bear the cost if you’re wrong.

Ninety-eight percent of Americans—plumbers, dentists, bus drivers—have skin in the game. We have to worry about the 2 percent—the intellectuals and politicians making the big decisions who don’t have skin in the game and are messing the whole thing up for everybody else. Thirty years ago, the French National Assembly was composed of shop owners, farmers, doctors, veterinarians, and small-town lawyers—people involved in daily activities. Today, it’s entirely composed of professional politicians—people who are just divorced from real life. America is a little better, but we’re heading that way.

Money can’t buy happiness, but the absence of money can cause unhappiness. Money buys freedom: intellectual freedom, freedom to choose who you vote for, to choose what you want to do professionally. But having what I call “fuck you” money requires a huge amount of discipline. The minute you go a penny over, then you lose your freedom again. If money is the cause of your worry, then you have to restructure your life.

The best money I’ve ever spent has been spent on books. The stupidest thing I’ve ever spent money on? Books. Also, I cannot understand why anyone would spend any amount to enhance their social status.

If nobody’s paying my salary, I don’t have to define myself. I find it arrogant to call yourself a philosopher or an intellectual, so I call myself a flaneur and I refuse all honors. As Cato once said, it’s better to be asked why there is no statue in your name than why there is one.

Source: https://www.esquire.com/lifestyle/money/a19181300/nassim-nicholas-taleb-money-advice/

[ava-rosier]

Ta-dah, have a preview of my Theonsa tumblr fic. More like ‘I wanna prove to @theonbaejoys and @soapieturner that I haven’t forgotten about it’. It’s untitled because I haven’t thought up the perfectest wittiest title yet. 

Rated Mild-for-Theon, with a little kick.

“I can't believe I've never done this before.”

“What- slept with me?” Theon wriggles his eyebrows suggestively.

By this point in her life, having known him for fourteen years, Sansa's eye roll is reflexive. “Me on your couch while you were in your bed doesn't count as sleeping together. Or is the number of women you've claimed to have had sex with inflated?” she retorts, making Theon hold his hands out in show a of halfhearted self-defense. She knows he isn't offended, he's teased her worse than this and she's snapped back at him harder than this.

“Hey now, don't go casting aspersions on my ability to count. I'll have you know every single woman left me knowing I'd fucked them so good their mothers probably felt it before they were even born.”

Sansa groans at the tasteless modifier; he snickers. This is classic Theon; he's always been a horndog chasing after girls and, to hear Robb tell it, he's equal opportunity about college women and horny divorcées nowadays.

She holds up her wine glass, waving it in front of his face. “I meant this. I've never drank alcohol before nine in the morning. Actually I don't think I've ever drank alcohol before noon. And drinking at a club at two a.m. doesn't count!” She rushes to add the last before he could catch her on a technicality.

“Math and alcohol at 8:38 on a Sunday morning. Well, you can always count on me to provide you with new experiences here, Princess.” The old nickname rolls off his tongue easily, but it settles on her differently.  Here, thousands of leagues south of where they'd grown up, Theon's pet name for her feels like a special, secret language shared by only them, that no one else knows.

Blinking away this strange, intrusive thought, Sansa glances around the empty pub backyard instead. It's a chilly Sunday morning in Blackcrown and the skies are just gray, gray, and more gray. Even with the building in the way of the wind, it blows strongly enough that droplets of rain periodically hit her in the face. The Salty Hoar has all the markings of a dive bar: sticky, banged up wooden tables that rock unsteadily when you place any weight on them, chairs that don't match, and a very basic bar selection that reluctantly includes some greasy fare. She can see how Theon loves it.

Despite the cloudy day, they both wear sunglasses, and neither can claim to be hungover. The shades do make them look like they have no fucks to give, which perfectly accessorizes the Naval-brand sweats she is borrowing from Theon to wear on the train back to Oldtown in lieu of the rather fussy and dramatic black dress she'd worn the night before, which is now folded up in a plastic shopping bag.

This is the strangest walk of shame she's ever taken.

She takes advantage of the relative anonymity provided by the sunglasses to study the man sitting next to her. Theon slouches in his chair, looking out at the homes and businesses situated on the hill below them, leading to the shoreline. He's always been boisterous and cocksure, perpetually in motion and in your face. But now there's a genuine self-assurance about him, a contrast from his teenage years. Clearly the military has been good for him.

His head nods to the rhythm of a song only he can hear, fingers lightly drumming on the side of his glass. Sansa isn't sure why it feels so alien to be sitting here with Theon Greyjoy, someone she's known over half her life- laughing and talking with him until her cheeks hurt.

Robb. That has to be it. The answer comes to her with the sort of quiet clarity that makes her feel external to the moment. She had only ever interacted with Theon as Robb's best friend. That has to be why it feels so...taboo...to be here without Robb in between them.

“Thanks again for rescuing me last night and letting me crash at your place.” Harry had never treated her particularly nicely, she could see that now. But what she'd thought was a sweet summer flirtation that could grow more serious had only become tense and distant once the fall term had begun and everyone was back in Oldtown.

He'd been too cowardly to tell her outright he didn't want to be in a relationship anymore and instead had resorted to treating her like shit until she got fed up and called him out on it. Of course, she had decided the last straw was when they were out of town and he kept passively-aggressively complaining about every activity Sansa wanted to do. Hence how she had ended up abandoned in an unfamiliar place at a very late hour of the night.

Theon shakes his head, making a little moue with his mouth. “Nah, don't worry about it. And I meant what I said before. I know some guys. Just say the fucking word and we'll castrate this douchenozzle.” He sounds gleeful at the thought.

A wave of fondness sweeps through her.  She's glad, rather than irritated, with her older brother now for having the foresight and determination to put Theon's number in her phone before she moved so far away from her family. “There's no need. I am in a sorority, after all, and all I have to do is tell a few of my sisters what Harry did, and they'll spread the word. He'll be symbolically castrated at the Cit.” She smirks as she fishes through her purse for her phone, having now remembered Margaery's demands of an update this morning. Her friend might actually be awake by now.

“A patented Sansa Stark revenge, nice!” Theon whistles before taking another slow pull of his beer. “I always knew you were gonna be a sorority chick by the way.”

Sansa arches an eyebrow. “Did you now?”  He looks altogether too smug, chest all puffed out.

“Yup.  In high school, you and your girlfriends were into the whole 'wear tiny pajama shorts and have pillow fights to tease the boys' thing. That cute friend of yours, Beth? It always was obvious she wanted a bounce on Robb's cock. Sororities are basically the same thing, just times ten.”

Sansa is torn between gagging at that mental picture, and smacking him over the head because of the warped stereotype about sorority girls. “One: I really don't need to hear about my brother's penis, thank you. And two: we don't have pillow fights, we support each other and organize charities,” she argues. He is unrepentant, however.

“No, but you get all dolled up and go clubbing, don't you? I betcha have lots of guys panting after those legs of yours in a tight skirt.” If it weren't for the sunglasses, Sansa suspects she would see Theon's eyes roving over her body. Did you pant after my legs in those tiny pajama shorts? She wonders with a small frisson of excitement.

“Maybe so.” To distract herself from the way her body is flushing, she scrolls through her notifications before unlocking her phone. Bran had texted her something with the latest meme sweeping through the internet, one or two of her friends had asked what her plans tonight were, and there are a few Tumblr notifications.

“Anything from Dick Move?”

“Nope. I kind of want to block his number outright,” she admits, “but I'm also hoping he'll try to get a booty call out of me someday just so I can completely ignore his text.”

Theon slides his palm through the air in front of him. “Read 10:23 pm.”  He chortles at the thought.

“Exactly.”

She goes to her Tumblr app, promising herself she won't eat through most of her monthly data in one go.  When the page loads, there's a gifset from her favorite historical fantasy show, she makes sure to like it on the spot. Before she can stop him or tilt her phone away, Theon's bending his head close to see what she's got on the screen.

"You’ve got a Tumblr too? No fucking way!” he exclaims.

Why does he have to be so loud? At least she doesn't live in this town and there's barely anyone within earshot. Sansa hisses as she hits the home button on her phone, glaring reproachfully at him. “What's so 'no fucking way' about me having a Tumblr?”

He shrugs, shaking his head in the way men do when they know better than to tell the truth. “Nothing, I'm just surprised. Dunno why.” There's something different about his attention now, even though she can't see his eyes.

“Too. You said 'too'. That means you've got one. If anything I should be surprised you're on that site,” she says accusingly.

“What can I say, I'm a man of surprising depths.” She snorts at that, which he accepts with good humor. He snaps his fingers and points at her, grinning. “You know what you should do? You should give me your url.”

She gives him a look like that's the stupidest thing in the world. “I'm not sure I want you to know the depths of some of my fandom obsessions.”

“Come on,” he cajoles. “It's Uncle Theon-”

“Ok, that is so creepy. Never do that again.”

“Fine. But my point still stands. It's me. D'you think there's much that's going to shock me?”

She bites her lip and contemplates it. Maybe it's the weirdness and giddiness of having wine in the early morning, but Sansa finds herself grabbing a pen and scribbling her url down on a napkin and handing it to Theon, who slides his sunglasses to the top of his head to read it.

“'lemoncakess'. Cute. I bet it's very aesthetic.” As he chuckles at the url that had taken forever for her to settle upon (all the good ones she wanted were being hoarded), Sansa finds herself mentally scrolling through her tumblog's archive, trying to remember if there were any incriminating text posts or embarrassing reblogs.

“Don't diss the aesth. I bet yours is full of shitposting.”

“And then some.” He winks, folding the napkin and shoving it into his jacket. “Expect a visit from T-money in the next few days.”

“Is that your url?” It's horrid enough that she's cringing with secondhand embarrassment.

Her assumption only gets her an eye roll. “Nah. I just figured that if 'Uncle Theon' didn't fly, then neither would referring to myself as 'Big Daddy'.”

“But T-money seemed more acceptable?”

“It's what my buddies call me. It all started this one time I was dared to act like a stripper at a bar. I had tons of chicks- and some dudes- sticking their easily-earned stags in my smalls.”

“That I can believe.” She deadpans.

Theon has a wicked grin on his face even as he drains the last of his beer before grabbing his keys and standing up. “C'mon, sweet cheeks, let's get you to the station. I have the depths of a blog to plunder.”

[westwickrp]

ABOUT JUAN CARLOS

AGE: 27 years

BIRTHDAY: 01/27/1992

OCCUPATION: Visual Artist

GENDER: Cis Male

NEIGHBORHOOD: Esperance

HAS BEEN IN WESTWICK: 2 years

FACECLAIM: Sean Teale

Some lives are marked even before they are even born and that was J.C’s case, he was born in a complicated small family and tragedy came to his life at the age of 7, after both of his parents were killed by a drug dealer as an act of vengeance and settling of debts because of his father addiction and mistakes. Little J.C had been lucky to escape unharmed after the attack.

With the existence of relative in the country, social service decided to move J.C from Detroit to L.A. with an uncle he had never really heard of. Rafael took J.C under his wing without thinking him twice because even if he and his little sister Clara didn’t really talk to each other much thanks of her relationship choices, he loved her and J.C was his blood and family, and even to protect him he decided to give him his last name, also to wash J.C Father’s past.

His uncle tried hard to provide him with the best that he could afford, but the sorrow often turned into bitterness for losing someone he loved so much cause J.C’s father horrible mistakes and J.C was the one who was left to pay for them. Soon the constant nagging and comparison to his father made J.C followed his father’s steps at a very young age. By the age of sixteen, he was a teen full of anger and a ticking time bomb, usually getting into a lot of troubles, crashing parties and starting fights, especially with rich valley kids, selling drugs to buy spray cans and art supplies, running away from the law, among others, were his everyday activities.

Luckily for him, he was a very smart kid, so academically he did okay, but it wasn’t until his math teacher falsely accused him of not only cheating but stealing the exam, so he was expelled from his school that J.C exploded and did the stupidest thing he had ever done, stole the guy’s car and crashed as a way of revenge. Obviously, he was caught by the police, found guilty of several felonies and put in a Youth Detention Center, where all change for him.

After a few weeks full of fights and punishments, J.C found a way to funnel all the anger inside of him through art, he always draw as a kid and as a teenager, graffiti was his way of expression, so the art program was used it didn’t sound bad, after all, doing art was the way where he was himself and felt free.

His work soon caught the attention of not only his teachers but people outside the center. Before he was released, J.C found benefactors willing to pay for his education and his reintegration into society turning him into an artist. It was not only his talent but his background story that made him so popular in the artistic media, turning him into some kind of toy or rare piece of collection for rich pompous artist who enjoyed using him, not only as charity act to made them feel better than others, but also to denigrate his immigrant and lower class roots, truth was J.C hated being used that way, he loved the money, the loft he owned, the studio, but he had never let people step on him, especially rich privileged people, yet things had changed and he was a puppet for them now, serving them and making the work he was asked for them and not really what he felt like doing.

It took him years of selling works and a lot of nights without sleeping to pay back everything he owned for his education and the life they had to provide him until that moment, but finally set himself free of debts and became his own benefactor. J.C decided to move to a smaller studio in Westwick, as a way for the plastic L.A, but still being in California and in a city that was growing fast and had a big cultural scenario. He got back on track almost immediately, adjusting to the town and the new media. working hard be better, bigger and transcendent, without relying on anyone but him.

✓ adaptable, creative, passionate ✘ impulsive, greedy, careless

This role is played by Mafe

[oathkeptroxas]

I will never get how Oliciters mindlessly hate Katie for the stupidest shit.

I spoke to an Oliciter once who said they had no respect for Katie because when they met her at a con Katie “seemed like she didn’t wanna be there and showed up late so why did she bother going, and Katie has previously cancelled apperances claiming “work obligations” but then was spotted at a beach.“

Okay…..let’s fucking think about this as logical fucking people for a second:

1) a lot of celebrities are contractually obligated to attend x amount of cons annually. Katie already does more than most, which suggests that she chooses to do extra on top of her contracted number (if she even has a contracted number because not everyone does and i have no way of knowing). So, Katie goes out of her way to attend events and interact with fans far more so than many others. If Katie does in fact have a contractual obligation, she may HAVE to go to cons even if she isn’t feeling up to it on that given day.

2) Katie has previously spoken out about the vast amount of hate she receives on Twitter, and how she is reluctant to check her social media comments. She’s now a spokesperson for an anti bullying charity as a result. There are even screenshots of oliciters @‘ing her with hate on Twitter only to immediately follow up those tweets with "this bitch blocked me”. Oliciters on twitter gathered together and laughed about how they lined up at cons to ask Katie about the “new” canary just to try and “drag her”. You have no idea what was said/done to her at that con, when she’s surrounded by people who hate her unjustly.

3) Katie is not just an actress. Her work obligations could be related to her tomboykc fashion blog/company or her charity work with animal adoption or cyber bullying. Since cons require out of state travel, a work obligation could be something as small as a quick interview/audition, which might only take a few hours of her day. If she has an interview/audition before lunch, that leaves her afternoon free. Whereas cons are weekend long, plus travel time. Just because she is seen having down time instead of being at a con, that doesn’t mean no work was done that day.

4) Katie has previously attended a con the day after being hospitalized and stayed hours afterwards signing free autographs to make up to fans for the day she missed.

And most importantly 5) Katie is a human being. She has a right to feel however she feels and doesnt owe anybody shit. She’s entitled to make mistakes and be in a bad mood and not feel well and sleep late or what the fuck ever. And these oliciters judge her based on her mood/actions for 30 seconds as if they’ve never been grumpy or gone to work when they didnt want to, or taken a day for themselves or what the fuck ever. Celebrities aren’t display pieces that exist just to act how you want them to and pose for your photos. Jfc.

And I just think it’s so fucking hypocritical that these Oliciters tried to actively “prove” Katie was lying about her injury when she missed one day of a con, but they all just take it on blind faith about Emily’s “anxiety”. I have an anxiety disorder. I know it’s difficult. I sympathize with Emily. Yes, I find it suspect that the few cons she does attend include SDCC which is the largest and therefore theoretically the MOST anxiety inducing, but I don’t know how her contract works and it also makes sense that she would be obligated to attend the largest cons at least, so I can believe that.

But it really drives me up a wall that these Oliciters hate and pick apart everything that Katie does, but we all know that if Emily did loads of cons and then skipped out on one or was in a bad mood, they would bend over backwards to defend her. And it’s like????? You can’t have one rule for one and another rule for another???? That’s not how it works???? Y'all aint slick.