“Does anyone have anything to say?” Artie’s cell cam was facing Blaine and he thought about it for just one second. And then as soon as he registered his own thought, he waved Artie off and buried his face in the crook of his elbow.
It was shame mixed with fear and the same confusion that hadn’t really left him since that day at the Lima Bean.
He should’ve thought of his parents first. Of Kurt or Sam. That would have been the most understandable reaction. But he only thought of one face - one thing he would never get to say, that last chance he had never taken.
To say: “I lied that day in the queue for coffee when you kissed me. I was scared and insecure and I was afraid that admitting my feelings for you would diminish everything I’d already made myself to be.”
The one face he desired to see, crouched there behind the piano wasn’t his mom’s or dad’s, Cooper’s, Sam’s, Tina’s or even Kurt’s…it was Rachel Berry. Only Rachel he wanted to see. Because that’s where his unfinished business was. Kurt was an open wound, Sam was a friend now but Rachel…Rachel was everything that lingered inside him that he tried to push down. And he was so ashamed that he couldn’t even say anything to the camera, not even leave a last note, a final confession because he wasn’t ready to reveal his biggest secret. So instead he cried silently into his own skin and felt sorry for himself. And he thought of Rachel, many miles away in New York, thriving, caught up with life and forever, as it seemed, bound to Finn, who had his good moments but was overall so wrong for her. And he thought maybe it was better to keep quiet after all.
Who would understand his feelings for her if he didn’t even understand them himself?
Pairing: Joan x Sherlock (Elementary)
Rating: T-M..mentions of sex
Summary: Joan thinks Sherlock can’t seduce a woman. He disagrees.
It was one of those moments where Sherlock was okay with not speaking for a second. This was partly because he was studying Watson’s features very closely for a betraying reaction. He noted the slightest twitch of her eyes - the hint of a wrinkle forming between her eyebrows - someone not as familiar with her face, someone who didn’t constantly sudy it as he did, wouldn’t have noticed it at all. He wasn’t quite sure what it meant though which was as enticing as it was frustrating.
“So?” He finally inquired when he deemed that enough time had passed for her to come up with an answer she deemed fit. He had noticed that she was taking more and more time to answer him these days. She was trying to impress him and he was sure that she wasn’t fully aware of the fact. But she did try very hard not to leave any room for humiliation any more. Like she wanted to be positive she could go on record with something before she uttered a word about it to him. He didn’t know if he felt proud or irritated by that. On the one hand side, and there was no use denying it, his ego grew several inches knowing she placed even greater value in his opinion of her and her deduction skills, on the other hand he wanted her to be frank with him. Part of grooming her into a detective was training her trail of thought and that was hard to do if she wouldn’t share said trail of thought with him.
Right now, however, he wasn’t actually worried about her trail of thought. No, this was something exponentially more important; her assessment of his talents. Not that he cared. Much. But a very petty part of him longed for her approval and by the way her nose crinkled into that sceptical-flaring-nostrils-thing it did when Joan wasn’t convinced, he felt his own face scrunch in expectancy of her answer. He knew he wasn’t going to like it. He suspected it would challenge him in some way.
“I’m just not sure…,” she hesitated and he could feel her eyes serching, probing along his features to find a sign of him that would tell her to go on. She was…nervous about saying it?
“Well, just go ahead and say it, Watson,” he commanded now because he wasn’t in the mood to play coy tonight, “I know what you think anyway.”
“Well then,” she sighed, balancing her tone in her uncanny way between utter calm and impatience, “Tell me. What am I thinking?”
Pairing:Spencer and Mona – not romantic
Rating: T (for implied violence and potential trigger)
Trigger Warning: suicide, violent behavior
Summary: Spencer is done playing nice and goes after Mona. Crazy!Spencer on an agenda. Just read it, it’s worth it!
“I bet you didn’t expect me here, did you?” Spencer said sweetly and was filled with an exhilarating rush of revenge when Mona’s eyes bulged and her breathing went ragged, “It sucks to be so completely at someone else’s mercy huh? Oh, all the things I could do to you right now…”
Mona’s face became even more contorted and Spencer laughed quietly, “Look at you, like a little bug lying on it’s back. You can’t do anything. But I can, well let’s see…how should I repay you for the things you did to me and my friends?”
Spencer got closer, whispering into her foe’s ear with a wicked satisfaction that took hold of her entirely, “I could rip out your fingernails, one by one, Godfather style or maybe I could pour acid over that sweet little body of yours…but then again, I guess that would all show up later and then you could go around telling your little sob stories about how you’ve been wronged by evil Spencer Hastings and her mean friends. We’ve treated you so bad, haven’t we? Enough bad to justify you going completely off the rails and running us over with cars, threatening our lives and all those cute little stunts your pulled…let me tell you something, you’re not the only one capable of a little crazy. How would you ever think you could get away with this? Mona, Mona, Mona, you’re so smart, how didn’t you see this coming?”
He shuffles his feet and she wants to scream, yell at him, tear his damn pretty face apart.
The ashes of their last cigarettes linger on the ground and on his black leather shoes and she lingers on the taste in her mouth, thinking his lips would taste just like this now.
Unbelievable how much time passes, how much mud life throws at you, how many words spoken, whispered, talked behind backs and closed doors and yet nothing ever changes at all.
She tries to keep it together and, if she can manage, casual, careful to not let one glance, not so much as one sigh, slip. She’s moving on difficult terrain, like a minefield.
Because she loved him once and because he knew.
And because it ruined everything.
Now she feels a lot like a ship, manoeuvring through a conversational Bermuda triangle and if she wasn’t the one standing in the cold, she’d surely be amused by their pathetic tries to make it look like they are just two people talking about books.
Like nothing ever connected them, nothing more than polite indifference, like she hasn’t cried a seventy-what nights over him, over what she had made him in her little head, like he hadn’t been completely in over his head when they started drifting apart, like he could have waited five minutes before shaking the annoying appendage that was her off, because it was the easiest way out.
Like he didn’t walk away from their friendship when she needed it the most.
It’s not like she’s angry. She’s not, she can’t be. She tried, it never lasts long, She can’t be angry with him, he’s just a kid after all.
And she should be wiser.
She is. She is completely unattached.
She’s so unattached, she lights another cigarette just to have a reason to stay outside with him a little longer.
He his carved into her heart, like one of these hearts on wooden benches, she can’t recall if she did the carving or he or both of them. Some time when they were still friends.
The kind of friends balancing on a rooftop, safe concrete, comfortable and easy on the one side and terrifying, consuming, complicated and thrilling free fall on the other side.
It was just that she fell and he didn’t. He retreated soon enough, walking the other way, untying the bond and letting her hit rock bottom for something that had started as a dance for two.
He speaks again, she listens, she replies, feeling a sense of things past, a quiet ring of how it felt like when she was a sponge to his words, trying to decipher him.
Eventually she did, decipher him, he didn’t like it much.
But everything is not at all the same. Every word now is a substitute for all the things that they will never say.
They leave it unspoken because, all aside, this moment is special, this illusion of having an actual chance to go back to how it was before the lines started to blur. Saying it all, every thought they think in this very second, it would crash the play pretend that is working so well.
And the playing pretend means so much to her because the in between of this moment and that last awkward tilt of his head, when she knew it was over, she’d been incomplete.
Maybe he feels remotely the same…or something vaguely similar, she has no idea.
But he stays for another cigarette, just like her, and he says that he likes eloquent people.
She was always eloquent.
But that probably just wasn’t enough.
/2 more under the cut/
please read and tell me what you think. cross-posted to “good reads”
summary: A student, a teacher and the inevitability of attraction.
It starts with a fight. A fight no one but me would have ever gotten into. After all, which sane college student fights with an instructor? Who does that? Risking a bad grade or at least bad blood for the rest of the semester or who knows how many semesters. And Mr. Riley is a great teacher, really. Everyone loves him, he’s young and handsome which helps as well. The girls say he looks like Josh Groban, which I guess is right – his hair’s just a few shades darker and his jaw wider but it isn’t like I checked so thoroughly. I like him though, just like the rest, his classes are never boring and I actually take something away from them.
So I could really use your help. Since no one wants to rp with me but I’m still madly in love with the plot idea, I was thinking about creating a TV show in tumblr form. Meaning I would post one Episode in several chapters (1-3 of 12) at a time and have like a show to read instead of watch. Below is what I got so far. Please tell me what you think and if you would read on. For the general plot go here. You should be familiar with INCEPTION.
Please, please tell me what you think! <3
Note: this is super rough, the dialogue is rubbish but i’m half asleep and nearly all german in my brain right now, forgive me, this is just to give you an idea of the concept.
Rachel stopped laughing as soon as she was out on the street. Blaine hadn’t seen it yet and crashed into her with his momentum from the skippy walk out of the restaurant.
“Blaine.” Rachel cautioned. “Blaine, we have to get back inside!”
“Huh?” The boy wasn’t even paying attention until she grabbed him by the collar and turned his head around to the sight that had her blood freeze in her veins.
“Oh my god,” Blaine gasped, a weird mix of horror and amazement. “Is this real?”
“As real as it gets.” Rachel muttered, for a moment just as transfixed as Blaine, who had slung his arm around her waist. Protectively, naturally.
Even now a fraction of her brain noticed the comfort in that. Even now, when her heart was beating fast by circumstance, it skipped a beat for being so close to him. But this was hardly the time to ponder how his hands on her body made her feel. Not when the twisting wall of wind bored and forged across the ground, carrying debris, cars, even whole houses in his stride.
Rachel couldn’t help the strangled sound of horror that escaped her throat when she made out a terribly common sillhouette against the pitch dark twirling clouds. There was a person, a human, flying maybe 60 feet in the air, being completely at the mercy of the wind.
“Rachel!” This time it was Blaine urging her. He tucked at her jacket and pulled her with him, back to the restaurant. That was when the downpour reached them and lashed down on them with full force.
Rachel could hardly see Blaine in front of her and she hadn’t drawn a full breath before being soaked. She staggered onwards, trying to find Blaine again and found him pounding at the door they’d just stepped out of minutes ago.
“Let us in!” He was screaming, desperately. “Hey!”
He kept on pounding but nothing happened, “They bolted the door!”
“Well we can’t stay here!” Rachel grabbed his arm, feeling the tornado creep closer to them, feeling the wind tuck at her limbs. “Come on Blaine, we have to find shelter.”
Blaine turned around to her, rain pouring down his face and he grabbed her face, cupping her cheeks and squeezing slightly. To reassure her, to promise her that he would stay. And she prayed he would.
“Are you ready?” Blaine asked and took her hand in his. “RUN!”
Ashley Seaver is a little late for the wedding. But she’s still the +1.
“May I?” Ashley tapped the blonde woman’s shoulder lightly and was greeted by two big smiles.
“Of course,” the woman said and made her way across the dance floor to leave the remaining pair to themselves.
Reid still hadn’t said a word and simply put out his now empty hands to take hers. She willingly let him spin her around a couple of times. She saw the others in passing and shot them each a smile. It was good to see them all in person again and she was very happy for JJ and very happy to be invited, included in this celebration. But she would tell them later. Right now it was just her and Spencer, dancing under fairy lights.
“I’m glad you could make it,” he said close to her ear.
“Me too,” she agreed and as she nodded, his light stubble tickled her cheek. “How was the ceremony?”
“Hmm,” Ashley hummed and leaned further in. It really had been a long day. She was happy to be with him at least.
“You seem tired.”
“I had a long day,” she said with a shrug. “I know it’s nothing on saving the city from blowing up but still…”
“Hey.” Spencer nudged her face with his, chastening her for downplaying her job. As he would.
“I missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
“Did you still want to go to that convention, it’s going on until tomorrow.” Ashley remembered seeing the passes lying around on his bedside table and the last time she’d talked to Garcia, she’d been told in many words that they couldn’t see the convention because Kevin had turned up with a date.
“I’d love to.” Spencer grinned from ear to ear, with an enthusiasm only little Jack and Henry could compete with.
“Hey Reid, stop hogging her!” Morgan’s loud voice was heard across the yard and soon enough large, strong hands came to rest on Ashley’s shoulders and turned her around and away from Spencer to demand a hug.
Spencer didn’t mind but he stayed close. Ashley wondered if Morgan and Garcia knew. They hadn’t told them but then, she thought, they weren’t exactly hiding. If there was anything to hide. There were no labels yet. They just…enjoyed spending time together. Kissing. Sometimes a little more. Maybe eventually a lot more.
But now she was his date at a wedding. That must count for something, she thought and smiled, sneaking back to his side.