#rewarding or like. hopeful or meaningful maybe. its hard to put an exact word to it but to speak it more directly- | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

leia-organa-fics · 3 years

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aftermath (part I)

Set after a reason to stay.

***

Shortly after, when Yavin base had to be evacuated, Han somehow ended up with the task of bringing the princess to Kowak, the Alliance´s new rendezvous point. Why High Command trusted him with her, he had no idea. It wasn´t as if he would do anything to her – for once, he wasn´t that kind of man and second, even if he was, she probably would be able to defend herself just fine even in her injured state. He would have thought though that they´d allocate some nicer quarters to a princess.

That should have been the first clue that maybe his perception of princesses wasn´t close to reality. No, actually, it should have been the third clue after the way she had rescued herself and hid her injuries all through the battle of Yavin. As it was, he just shrugged it all off, telling himself that not even a princess could be picky in the face of the Alliance´s lifestyle and scarce resources.

Therefore, he was completely surprised when he finally realized that during their trip, Her Worship had taken it upon herself to quietly ‘fix’ things on the Falcon that hadn´t even been all that broken and ‘optimize’ things that in his opinion, thank you, had worked just fine before.

It took three days and Chewie pointing it out for him to realize that somehow a full inventory of the Falcon´s supplies had appeared out of thin air, the dishes were cleaner than they´d ever been, and there was absolutely nothing lying around untidily on any surface. When he finally caught on what must have been happening during his shifts in the cockpit for the last three days, he felt anger rise in his chest. Who did she think she was to mess with his ship?

Chewie roared something to stop him, but he was already out of the door of the cockpit to give Leia a piece of his mind. He found her in the lounge, bend over the Darjik table doing force-knows-what. “What do you think you´re doing?” he demanded.

She didn´t even look up while replying, “There´s a stain.”

“Oh, I´m sorry my humble ship is not enough for your privileged tastes.”

“That´s not what I meant, and you know it.” Why was her voice so calm? And why was she still not looking at him?

‘Stop messing with my ship,’ was what he meant to say. What came out was, “Stop that right now. You´re still injured.” And where had that last part come from?

At that reply, she finally looked up. With her jaw set and brows furled, she looked the definition of stubborn. “I´m fine,” she gritted, and it was the first time she sounded like a petulant princess.

“You´re not. I know what the Empire does to its prisoners.”

Her stance softened. “Which end of the cell door were you?”

“Outside,” he admitted. “I was at the Academy … ´til I figured out that torture and genocide weren´t exactly my kind of fun.”

She nodded. “You´re a lot better than you try making people believe.”

“Sweetheart, hate to break it to you, but I´m not good. I´m not here for your pesky, little Rebellion.” He wasn´t, he really wasn´t. In fact, he didn´t know why he was still here … okay, that wasn´t true either. He was still here because of her and the kid, and it was ridiculous. He barely knew them! But somehow Leia´s fire and Luke´s fundamental goodness had drawn him in. He needed to free himself, as soon as possible. He´d have to wait until they reached the rendezvous point though. There, he´d make sure they were safe and then he´d leave.

“You´re doing it again,” she interrupted his thoughts.

“If that´s what you want to believe, suit yourself.”

“I requested the Falcon as my transport, you know.”

That took him by surprise. Again. She really needed to stop doing that. “Why?” he asked.

She just shrugged non-committedly and resumed scrubbing the table.

“Stop that,” he repeated. “It´s already clean.”

The princess, Leia, froze for a moment. “The bench isn´t,” she finally said and turned her attention there. Han watched as she put soap on the cloth in her hand and started scrubbing at a stain that might or might have been there.

Watching her work was fascinating. Her hands were soft. Just one look at them was enough to know that she hadn´t done much manual labour ever in her life. In stark contrast to that, her movements were steady and brimmed with efficiency. They betrayed the accuracy of someone who had learned how to move not gracefully but appropriately. They were the movements of a diplomat. Han wouldn’t be surprised if she had actually calculated the exact speed that she needed to move at to give the illusion of the golden mean between urgency and idleness.

She blended in with what seemed to be perfect ease, and still, everything about her screamed absolute control to Han. Leia Organa was a paradox. Strong but vulnerable. Seemingly invincible but oh so hurt inside. The embodiment of compassion and goodness, but at the same time her fury over Alderaan´s fate burned hotter than a supernova just underneath her skin. She was prickly, difficult and overall insufferable, but nonetheless, people gravitated to her.

After some minutes, it became clear to Han, that she wasn´t going to stop her needless task, until he had left. A part of him wanted to just do so, to leave her and the sadness that clung to her like a second skin behind, to vanish to the cockpit and plan his and Chewie´s next destination after dropping her off with the Alliance. The rest of him though – a far bigger part – couldn´t bring himself to do it. If he didn´t check on her, who would? She didn´t understand Shyriiwook, Luke wasn´t here and as far as he knew, everyone she had been close to had been killed together with Alderaan. Han was many things. Heartless wasn´t one of them. He couldn´t just leave her here alone. She was Leia.

He battered his brain for something meaningful to say, but came up blank, so he fell back on what he knew. “If you keep on doing that, you´ll scrub a hole into my bench.”

She stopped. “I suppose it is clean now.”

“Definitely cleaner than ever before.”

“That´s not hard, is it?” The hint of a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, as she finally turned to face him.

“This is a smuggler´s ship and not the royal fleet, Your Worship.”

A frown crossed her face. “Don´t call me that.”

“Don´t worry,” he retorted. “I´ve got many more. How about ‘Your Highnessness’, princess?”

“Don´t.” Her voice turned icy. “I´m not. Not anymore.”

She looked away and he wanted to kick himself. So much for not being heartless. “I´m sorry,” he said sincerely. “Leia.”

It was the first time her actual name had crossed his lips. She seemed to realize it, too, because she faced him again and the anger was replaced by something else that he couldn´t place. They looked at each other for one sheer endless moment, studying each other. When the silence started to become awkward, Han desperately searched for something to busy himself with. In the end, it was her who ended it by putting away the cloth and the soap where she had taken it from.

“Where are we at the moment?”, she asked.

“Near Kashyyk. It will probably be around six more days, before we make it to Kowak.”

“Kashyyk.” She seemed to be lost in thought for some moments before a dangerous glint entered her eyes. “That´s the Mid Rim, isn´t it?”

“Yes,” Han answered warily.

“So, we´re not too far from the Core … “

“Yes, we are damn far away from the Core and it´s gonna stay that way.”

“I need to go there.”

“Where?” he asked, even though he thought he knew the answer. Knew and dreaded it.

“Alderaan.”

Just like he had feared. “It´s gone,” he exclaimed forcefully. “There´s nothing left.”

“Maybe.”

“Not maybe. I´ve seen it. You´re not going to find what you´re looking for.”

She closed her eyes. “I know.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “But I need to see it for myself.”

“No.” Han shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

Leia raised her chin and shot him a determined look. “The Royal House of Alderaan had funds stored on Coruscant. It will take some time, but I can pay you.”

“You think this is about money?”

“You made it very clear that that´s everything you care about.”

Stung, Han took a step back. She wasn´t entirely wrong: He had declared very loudly that money was the only reason why he had helped them … but surely his actions spoke louder than those words. He had returned for the kid – without hoping for any reward. He had comforted her. And now she was throwing it back in his face. “You´re right,” he finally said angrily, “but the money won´t do me any good if I´m dead.”

“You escaped the Death Star, but you´re scared of a simple trip?”

“Simple trip? After our escape from the Death Star, the Imperials will be looking for the Falcon. Flying to the Core would be suicide.”

Her anger seemed to deflate as quickly as it had flared up and a defeated look crossed her face. “I need to go there,” she whispered. “Please.”

Han was still hurt, but Leia´s sad eyes bored holes into his resolve. After Yavin, the Imperials probably had bigger concerns than catching one single freighter … and after all, he wasn´t exactly keen on getting back to the Rebellion. Kriff, he was going to regret it. Still. He sighed. “We can´t stay long and at the first sign of Imperial presence, we´ll leave.”

“Thank you,” she said gravely.

Han acknowledged her thanks with a curt nod. “You better get a hold on those funds of yours soon,” he said bitterly.

“I will.” Was that disappointment in her voice? And why did that hurt even more than her earlier words?

Han decidedly did not think about that as he made his way back to the cockpit to change their course to Alderaan. Chewie noticed his gloomy mood and tried to get him to talk about it, but Han rebuked all of his efforts.

The next day was spent in stony silence. Leia seemed to sense his mood and kept away from him. Without Han to talk to, she and Chewie turned to each other instead. What ensued was a series of conversations that consisted of Leia completely misinterpreting Shyriiwook and a lot of pantomime. Unfortunately, conventions for the meaning of certain gestures were different on each planet, so that they didn´t particularly make their endeavour easier. The result would have been hilarious if Han hadn´t been so angry and hurt. In his current mood, it was only annoying. Why did Chewie get along with the princess?

***

You can now find part II here.

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the-everlasting-dream · 5 years

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Let Me Kiss You - Drabble request

Only because I like you @ooo-barff-ooo here are your Drake x Liz kisses.

“Come to bed” kisses: A has their hands on B’s neck, murmuring the phrase softly. A’s hands slide down B’s arms to their hands, lacing their fingers together and slowly starting to pull B towards their bedroom. A continues to pepper B with kisses all the while, trailing them down their jaw and neck.

Bleary eyed and sleep ridden, Drake stumbles into the place he knows she’ll be at this late hour. Its almost 1am and his wife is still poring over the logistics for the gala dinner in her study in the same position she’d been in for most of the day. He knows how driven she is, any problem Elizabeth comes across does not fare long under her concentrated focus.

But he knows better, in this instance at least. He knows the fuss she’ll put up in the morning when he has to drag her out of bed for their breakfast with the Queen mother, he knows she’ll complain ‘Who the hell does breakfast meetings?’ and he knows he’ll answer with a laugh stating the obvious just to annoy her a little more. But Drake also knows that he misses her, his body misses the feeling of hers pressed up against him, misses burying his nose in her soft hair that she keeps to meticulous wash schedule, missing her scent something that would always calm him immediately, misses the sensation of how well she fits into his arms, like they are meant to be.

Because they are.

Totally, completely, inexplicably willingly bound together in a way that mere words could never capture. And that is why he slips into her study, making ample noise so not to scare her as he comes up behind her desk chair. Her hair is in a bun - her working-hard hairstyle, he’s come to realise - exposing the back of her neck just enough to tempt him to caress the soft skin there with his calloused fingers, drawing a breath from her as her skin tingles, responding immediately to his touch. He runs a thumb over the tiny population of baby hair that fringes on the edge of her hairline, grateful that only he gets to touch her like this, that there are some places of her that only he knows, having spent countless hours exploring every curve of her body.

‘Come to bed.’

His voice is a soft gravelly whisper, eyes barely open, hands tracing a familiar path over her shoulders as he leans down to follow the trail with his lips. The strap of her tank top falls down the graceful arc of her arm, leaving the area bare for the smallest second before he covers it with his mouth.

‘Come to bed.’ Drake repeats, between slow lazy kisses designed intently to breaking her focus and bring her back to him. Elizabeth hums in vague agreement - that intense focus hasn’t been beaten yet - and he allows the days stubble to drag across her skin as he works his way up her neck.

She gasps a little, her concentration crumbling under his touch as does the will to stay away and finish just this one last thing like the same empty promise she made to him hours ago. His long fingers slide down her arms, moving over her tanned skin as he finds the sweet spot behind her ear and the secret to his success.As she moans, he smirks a little, gently tugging the pen out of her hand and lacing his fingers through her manicured ones, once again marvelling at how every part of her seemed to compliment every part of him.

‘Come to bed.’

At this she leans back into his touch and he knows he’s won now. Her tank top slides further down her body revealing the top of her breast and ordinarily he’d have no qualms of kindly relieving her of it and the rest of her clothing but not tonight. He knows she needs her rest and if he pursued his previous line of thought they’d be doing the exact opposite. They’ll have time for that another time. Tonight is the night for gathering her up into his arms and holding her like the treasure she is, pulling her in close and trying to ignore the gentle tickling sensation of her long hair that inevitably would end up in his face over the night: a minor grievance for the reward of being able to do this. He gives her arms a soft but meaningful pull and she must be more tired than she lets on because she stands with less effort than he thought would take to convince her.

Dropping a kiss on her head, Drake wraps his arms around her middle, feeling Elizabeth’s body already relaxing into his and he guides them in an awkward shuffle up the stairs and down the long corridor to their bedroom, each stumbling step punctuated with kisses across her neck and jaw until they finally reach their destination and tumble into bed together, his mission accomplished when he pulls her into his arms and he spend his last waking moments that night savouring the sensation of her warm figure pressed against his.

Goodbye kisses: Lingering and hard for longer times apart. Ones that curve A’s body against B’s and cause hands to splay against backs. Or short pecks, maybe not even completely on the mouth for short trips to the grocery store.

(Can we take a moment to appreciate how adorable Sonam looks in this gif! Its one of my favs of her and the cutest thing I’ve seen, thats something I picture Liz doing ahh)

‘Wallet, yep, phone, yep,’ Drake mumbled to himself absentmindedly as he stood in the doorway of the Atlantean mansion before a full day of meetings at the palace. Standing in the open doorway, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something, something very important as he patted himself down, trying desperately to remember.

‘Looking for these?’

He whirled around to find his wife Elizabeth leaning against the wall, wrapped in her dressing gown, eyes still bleary from sleep, twirling his keys around her finger. He sighed in relief, rushing over wondering what in the world he’d do without this amazing woman in his life.

‘Liz, oh god what would I do without you!’ He repeated out loud, reaching down to give her an exuberant kiss on the cheek. ’Sorry for waking you.’

He felt a little guilty at that his disorganisation had caused her to get up from bed after a long night before. The gala dinner she’d been agonising over for the last few weeks had been last night and Elizabeth had offered to stay back and help clean up while a guilty and equally tired Drake opted to bow out early for some well needed rest. She giggled a little when he kissed her, holding his keys slightly out of his reach to get his attention.

‘I think you forgot the most important thing of all Mr Walker,’ she teased, pursing her lips in a very obvious gesture for a kiss. He arched a playful eyebrow at her.

‘Oh I fulfilled that duty alright Mrs Walker. You were just too dead to the world to notice.’

Still he indulged her, unable to resist how adorably cute she looked, waiting for his lips to descend down on hers. The kiss was much too swift and chaste for his liking but Drake was very aware of the time, knowing that out of the thirty minutes he needed to get to the palace for this morning’s meeting, more than twenty of them would be lost if he caved into giving her a thorough goodbye. He also knew Elizabeth would probably want to go back to bed for a sleep in on her day off: she may be the Duchess of Atlanta but there were few things she liked more than sleep.

‘Mmm,’ she hummed, eyes closed, her tongue running softly over her lower lip, tasting him on her. ‘Yeah I’m beginning to get a vague inkling but I think you’re gonna have to jog my memory a little bit more.’

Drake gave her another soft kiss, this one not quite making her mouth. ‘How’s that?’

Elizabeth screwed up her face in mock thought, her arms sneaking up to wind themselves loosely around his neck. ‘A little better but I’m going to need you to do that again to be sure.’

He obliged, knowing resistance was futile and that his wife would always somehow end up getting her way. He didn’t mind though because kissing her was one of his favourite things to do. This time he let the kiss linger a little longer, one hand coming up to her waist while the other still grasped his keys, a reminder of the ticking time. Elizabeth responded eagerly, earnestly pulling him closer, her hands splaying across his broad back as she deepened the kiss. Drake moaned a little, his inner sense of timing urging him that he had to leave to not be caught in the morning traffic but his wife didn’t seem to have any place to let him go anytime soon.

Pulling away slightly, he placed another tentative kiss on her cheek. ‘Elizabeth…’

Her eyes were still closed and she screwed them up even tighter. ‘Don’t say it, don’t say it.’

‘I hate to say it.’

‘Then don’t.’

‘But I have to leave. I’ve got that meeting with Liam and that delegation remember?’ He ran his thumb affectionately over her jaw.

‘Fine.’ She huffed, dropping her arms from around his body and Drake immediately felt cold at the lack of her warmth but he knew he had to go.

‘I’ll be back by five, six latest,’ he promised, kissing her on the cheek.

Elizabeth wrapped dressing gown and leaned back against the wall assuming the position he’d found her in. ‘Hurry home marshmallow,’ she winked in what was supposed to be seductively but came across as adorable in her sleepy state. ‘There may or may not be a surprise waiting for you when you get back.’

Drake groaned, pausing in the doorway. ‘Temptress.’

‘Glad you caught on,’ she smirked. ‘Can I have one last kiss?’

He sighed in mock annoyance but recovered the distance he’d put between them. ‘I hope you know the morning traffic I’m risking by this.'

He couldn’t help but pull her into another deep kiss, long and lingering, relishing in the feeling of her soft lips on his before spending a whole day apart from her. He hadn’t even left yet and he was already wishing he’d be home..

‘I’ll see you at five,’ he promised, dropping another kiss onto her forehead. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too.’

Although it tore him apart to leave her, Drake finally closed the door behind him and jogged to his Jeep. Just as he got in, his phone buzzed with a text from Liam saying that the delegates had requested to reschedule for tomorrow. In a flash he was out of the truck and throwing the manor door open. Elizabeth had obviously been making her way back upstairs and he ran up behind her, scooping her up into his arms and planting a kiss on the side of her neck.

‘What happened to your meeting?’ she asked confusedly when he set her down and spun her around to face him.

‘They cancelled,’ he replied, too busy tugging his tie off before hoisting her up into his arms. ‘Now I’ve got time to give you a proper goodbye.'

Permatags if you’re interested: @chantelle-x0x , @choicessa, @meeraaverywalker , @drakewalkerwhipped , @quartzandarrow , @mfackenthal , @srawesleyghuewrites , @topsyturvy-dream , @enmchoices , @gardeningourmet @debramcg1106 , @alesana45 , @meladoridarcy, @blackcatkita , @tmarie82 , @annekebbphotography , @lizk77 , @jayjay879 , @tornbetween2loves , @akrenich , @theroyalweisme , @likethetailofacomet , @sleepwalkingelite , @littleblossom-18 , @ooo-barff-ooo TRR only: @speedyoperarascalparty , @carabeth ,

#drake x mc #drake x elizabeth #The Royal Romance #long post #WHY DONT I WRITE MORE FLUFF #THIS KILLED ME IT WAS SO SWEET

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take2intotheshower · 7 years

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BLINDSPOT FINALE - FIRST VIEWING

So after 8 days of enjoying clips and gifs of the finale I got to watch the whole episode last night. This post is largely for @backonorthernshores who was curious to know my first impressions.

I admit to being scared it wouldn’t live up to my massive expectations after having read the fandom’s (largely) enthusiastic reaction. I’d been blown away by 2-21 and I’ve watched that episode 3 times so far. But I’m pleased to say the finale didn’t disappoint at all. And what with the mini-heatwave and my brain churning over what I’d just seen, I didn’t get much sleep. I would now like to apply to join the collective flailing.

First impressions and some of the questions that kept me awake for most of the night:-

1. Patterson was simply AWESOME!! The biggest-ever threat to the US and she made the NASA bods look like amateurs. And you could tell Director Hirst was super-impressed too. I could see her already lining up Patterson as her future successor. Patterson had her momentary post-Sandstorm breakdown (not surprising given what she’s been through), but she seems to have bounced back by the time of the apartment party. I do hope this kidnapping (if that’s what it was) doesn’t break her spirit.

2. How worried should we be about the nuked marine life in the Atlantic?

3. The joy of watching Zapata and Keaton spar off one another. More please. Very proud of Tasha - at death’s door one minute and then fully-functioning and dishing out the sass the next.

4. Weller proved he really is great at puzzles. First, after his brainwave about the real purpose behind the tattoos, he twigs that Shepherd plans to take down the top tier of the services that very same day and that Sandstorm must have infiltrated COGS too (does Blindspot have a cupboard-full of Aussie actors just waiting to come on and make guest appearances?). Still lolling that the only person he feels he can trust is Keaton - they’ve come a long way too. And as for Weller’s brilliant idea of electrocuting Shepherd to neutralize the beacon.....2 minutes left on the clock and he’s thinking as quickly as Patterson. I was cheering him on at that point. Pity we haven’t seen what Nas does to Shepherd (may she suffer for eternity), but maybe they’ll save that for flashbacks in S3. And bless my little munchkin for his thank you speech back at the NYO - for a man not good with words that was very well done.

5. Jane may be outclassed as a fighter by Shepherd (I’d like to have seen her training sessions at Sandstorm with Ronda Rousey), but she is one hell of a truck driver. Did she actually see it was Roman before she ploughed into him? Or did she just assume that must be him in the police car? She was going at such a speed that she can’t have glimpsed much before the impact.

6. Kurt’s “I love you, Jane” admission was a beautiful moment, one of my favourite ever Jeller scenes (*wipes away tears*).

7. The apartment corridor scene was way shorter than I expected from the mountain of gifs. We’ve been poring over every nuance and expression as if it lasted minutes, when it was all done in seconds. I didn’t even get the chance to keep an eye on Jane’s elusive jacket. I like to think she dropped it for the kiss and that Zapata and Reade exchanged meaningful glances when they spotted it on their way out. But how lovely was Jane’s declaration and Kurt’s response. And yes, that ridiculous camerawork in the sex scene. A travesty. They had better give us more satisfying encounters in S3. At least Pegleg made a miraculous recovery from his wound in time to enjoy the moment.

8. Old funny Reade is back at last and I hope that’s the last we hear about a new career at Quantico. But what did he mean by his excuse “my boy called”? Is he back with Nikki and her son and I missed it?

9. I was pre-warned about the 2-year jump, so I wasn’t floundering helplessly in WTF-just-happened shock (although it’s going to require another viewing or three to sink in). So Jane was trying to find herself (or lose herself) and it wasn’t working. The sisters at the retreat (what’s the Buddhist equivalent of a nun?) saw that, and were encouraging her to return home. “I can never go back.” Jane’s reason for running had better be HUGE to be remotely credible. I’m still guessing it’s either a very real threat to her rabbit and/or his loved-ones which she doesn’t believe Jeller are strong enough to deal with together; or some massively disturbing Remi thing re-surfacing that means she can’t trust herself not to do harm. I think she told Kurt enough before she left to stop him coming after her immediately, but not everything.

10. So Kurt rolls up like Indiana Jones (did he arrive on a goat with a second for his luggage? did he bring a guide?), and he is trying so hard not to cry. He’s still hurting, there’s pain in his eyes, a little residual anger, confusion, relief, but so much love for her. How can anyone possibly think he might have married anyone other than Jane? “I can’t believe I finally found you.” So he’s been searching for a while, but he only left because Patterson, Reade and Zapata went missing and the box sent him to Jane. I think his search has been weeks rather than months, but that Jane has been gone for much longer. Surely the “kidnapper” wouldn’t have wanted to hold them captive for any appreciable length of time, so Weller must have had some clue to at least what part of the world to look in. Otherwise he might more logically have started in South Africa. So perhaps he flies directly to the Himalayas and then puts the word out for news of his beautiful tattooed wifey, maybe offering a reward. The sweet young sister who lets Kurt in isn’t overly-surprised at his appearance, nor does she see this big bear of a man as a threat. Do the sisters already know that he’s Jane’s husband and that he intends no harm, either to them or to their guest? It would seem so. Jane must have shared some of her story with them, and I think they betrayed her exact location as soon as they heard of his search.

11. “We think they’ve been kidnapped”. Jane’s immediate thought is that it’s Roman behind it - the threat to her rabbit she thought she’d averted by running? The “we” suggests to me that Director Hirst and Weller have been working together on figuring out what’s happened to his team and that Hirst has given Weller leave to find Jane to unlock the secret of the box. Who else would/could he consult with? Keaton? Rich? I do hope he didn’t feel it necessary to resign from the NYO. It can’t have been easy to take out Reade or Zapata (and Patterson is more formidable than she looks), so if it’s Roman he is probably not acting alone. Kurt is genuinely worried. What an agonising journey it must have been for him - with the added worry of what he might find at the end of it.

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Whatever all this is about, I do NOT want to see loads of short black and white flashbacks cutting in and out of the narrative in Season 3. I think we deserve proper fleshed-out scenes explaining why Jane left and the manner of it, and what happened to Weller and the NYO between the abduction of Patterson, Reade and Zapata and Kurt’s reunion with wifey. It also goes without saying that we require full detailed scenes of Jeller’s wedding/engagement (whichever) that shows the exchange of those rings, and some of their domestic life together prior to the EVENT.

If NBC stick to their 2016 schedule, most of you will get to find out in September, while my country will probably be kept biting its nails in frustration until mid-November again, playing catch-up during your lengthy winter hiatus. It’s going to be a long long wait.

#Blindspot #finale #my first thoughts on watching it

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