as i am in the middle of winter

More Headcanons pt 2:

-Lukas loves it when Philip wears his flannel shirts 

-Lukas may not snore in his sleep but his greedy self does steal ALL the blankets…..sorry Philip

-Philip’s new source of safeness instead of water is in Lukas’ arms or found in the sound of Lukas’ breathing combined with the rise and fall of his chest

-Nightmares are awful for both of them but they will always hold the other through it and talk about it when they feel up to it

-Their first Christmas season together is spent wrapped in a blanket with Gabe and Helen on one couch and them on the other watching How the Grinch Stole Christmas like 100 times

-Don’t even get me started on matching ugly sweaters

-A Rose, Philip, and Lukas study session for finals that turns into a hey lets nap party, and then turns into a big cuddle session with Philip definitely in the middle of Rose and Lukas because “I am cold so I get to be in the middle” “Philip we are all cold it’s WINTER” “Oh don’t give us that face” “Okay fine you get to be in the middle”

-Philip may or may not have the best sad puppy dog face that lets him get anything he wants…..sorry Lukas :/

You know how freckles usually tend to get more defined/noticeable over the summer? That’s the case of Mike Wheeler for you. He’s always HATED this and hates being exposed to the sun during the summer because of his goddamn freckles. The boys are usually the first ones to notice and will do some light-hearted jokes about it, but nothing that crosses the line of course. Then it’s Troy and his band of brainless friends who change his nickname from frog-face to Cookies N’ Cream.

This keeps happening until the first summer with El around, she notices them and comments on how they look darker now. Mike starts rambling angrily at how it happens every year and how they’re awful and stuff but is cut dead in the tracks when Eleven holds his face in her hands. She smiles.

“No… They’re pretty”

His face is probably as red as a Christmas ornament and he’s most likely wishing for earth to drag him down at that second, but from that moment, Mike never ever complains about them again.

Sportarobbie fic (taking prompts)

So I was scrolling through Tumblr a few days ago and came across a post by the lovely @sportaboob about Sportacus being incredibly attracted to the Glanni growl coming from a very tired Robbie Rotten. Of cause it was one in the morning so of cause my brain decided it was the perfect time to write a seriously Mary Sue fic based on said post. God I am absolute trash and need to be stopped. Also I apologise in advance for this piece of shit fic, as I haven’t written anything like this in a long ass time, so it’s long, drawn out, ridiculously detailed and really awkward…

Insomnia

A mellow silence befell the earth, as the residents of LazyTown eagerly tucked themselves into bed for the night. Being in the middle of winter meant that the usually crazy town had collectively decided to stay in the warm and retire early, giving Sportacus a chance to relax for a while.
He smiled softly to himself as he watched the towns lights turn off one by one from his airship, until the entire town finally fell into darkness. It was a rare but welcome sight to the elf, as even though he adored the residents and all of their antics, it could get a little repetitive running around to fix the same problems on a daily basis.
He laughed softly to himself as he picked up an apple from his already open food bench and took a large bite, reminiscing over fond memories.
If it wasn’t Trixie trying to to cause chaos, it was Ziggy getting stuck somewhere or Stingy trying to claim something as his or Robbie…
Sportacus paused. Where was Robbie? It had been days since he’d seen him, and the kids hadn’t mentioned any suspicious activity from him in a while. The elf turned slowly to regard the large billboard that poorly hid Robbie’s lair, squinting at it in a lame attempt to spot any activity. Just like the rest of the town however, everything was in darkness.
Sportacus rubbed his thumb over the red skin of his sportscandy absentmindedly, trying to decide what was the best corse of action in this situation. He wasn’t about to go and invade Robbie’s privacy by barging in this late at night. He knew the man valued his solitude greatly, and understood that he wasn’t exactly the first person Robbie wanted to see in any situation.
Taking the last bite out of his apple, Sportacus elected to retire for the night, and would make a point of paying the villain a visit tomorrow, to make sure he was ok. He knew that the poor man suffered with chronic insomnia, so he was probably just dead asleep. Sportacus didn’t want to disturb him from what could have been the only sleep he’d had in weeks, no matter how worried he was about him.
Pulling off his hat, goggles and jacket and hanging them on the hook next to his bed, Sportacus laid himself down and stared up at the ceiling until he began to feel himself drifting off. He didn’t usually stay up this late, but for some reason the villain kept cropping up in his mind. It’d been happening a lot recently now that he thought about it, and Sportacus took note of how much he’d actually began to miss him when he wasn’t around. He wasn’t sure how long he laid there thinking about it all, but it was long enough that he had to stop himself thinking or he’d never fall asleep. He’d rather leave falling down that sort of rabbit hole…or bunker hole until tomorrow.
As if fate had other ideas however, his crystal began to blare violently from it’s position on the hook next to the conflicted elf. He jumped up quickly, pulling his jacket on and threw a scarf around his neck clumsily. He tried to put his hat on quickly as he kicked his ladder out of his now open door and down through the darkness to the earth below.

The air outside was bitter cold, tearing through Sportacus’ exposed skin like a string of barbed wire as he slid down his ladder. His feet hit a thick layer of snow instead of the solid earth, causing him to make a mental note to find the trouble quickly and find himself a jumper at some point, lest he become a sportsicle.
Slowly but surely, the crystal drew him closer to the outskirts of town, which he knew could only mean one thing; Robbie was in trouble.
Picking up his pace, the elf just hoped that whatever had happened was easily fixable. He didn’t think he could live with himself if the villain had been stuck all that time without help.
He pulled open the hatch behind the billboard with ease, despite the thick layer of ice developing around it, and slid down the ladder silently, taking note of how warm and inviting it felt. landing gently in the lair, the first thing Sportacus noticed that the place was an absolute mess and that one of Robbie’s disguise cases was cracked badly.
The elf looked around frantically for Robbie or any sign of an intruder, ready for a fight if he had to be, but soon enough fear soon turned to curiosity, as it became more and more obvious that all of this was done by Robbie himself.
A large red screwdriver with the unmistakable initials ‘R.R.’ calved into the handle stuck out of the disguise case at an odd angle, quite obviously being the source of the large crack. It must have been thrown in a rage by Robbie, and lodged itself deeply in the glass.
Ah. So he was inventing. That explained everything.
Sportacus stepped over what now we’re obviously fragments of inventions all over the floor in an effort to make his way over to the workbench on the other side of the room. He still needed to find Robbie after all, who was still nowhere to be seen.
A plate of half eaten cake sat on the fuzzy orange chair in the middle of the room. The fork from said cake was now lodged in the opposite wall, with icing still dripping from it. Thrown in a rage like the unfortunate screwdriver had been. Robbie’s fridge was also on it’s side in the middle of the floor with all the components ripped out haphazardly and spread all over the floor. There was an overturned table on the far side of the room and his phone hung from his periscope by the chord high in the air.
Sportacus could have stared at such total destruction as this in shocked awe for hours, but a low grunt from behind him drew him out of his daze. He turned slowly to see the hunched over form of Robbie; hair an absolute mess, his waistcoat missing, his sleeves rolled up and his legs crossed on the floor like a child. His back was to the elf but it was obvious he was working on something, mumbling angered Jibberish under his breath as he tried to screw something into a contraption.
Robbie was so absorbed in his deluded inventing that he hadn’t even noticed Sportacus was there, so the elf stood there for a while and wondered what to do, watching the villain let out angered grunts and yelps every so often as he struggled with whatever he was doing.
He couldn’t help it, but the elf let out a stifled laugh, watching as the usually proud and composed inventor held up a small screw between his fingers and proceed to tell it in no manner of kind words how useless it was as a tool of invention, and that it’s superiors would hear of it’s poor performance.
He then proceeded to throw the screw over his shoulder towards Sportacus and pulled out a large nail, hammering it violently into the device with a wrench while mumbling something about it working or being put in time out again, like the phone had been.
At this point, the elf had started laughing even more. How long had poor Robbie been awake at this point? He’d been gone about four days so…wait. Surely he hadn’t been awake all that time? That wasn’t possible was it?
He was stopped dead from pondering on these questions however when Robbie let out a low but loud growl from deep within his throat. It was almost animalistic in the way it tore through the villains body, and Sportacus swore his heart stopped in that moment. He felt his cheeks grow slightly warm, despite not knowing why. This whole situation was obscure to the highest degree, and he had no idea what to do.
He didn’t need to think for long however as Robbie, who had given up on his work for a while at that point, felt the elf’s presence behind him and turned quickly. The poor man in his sleep deprived state did not expect Sportacus to be stood there and almost backflipped over his workbench in fear, throwing his wrench at him and screaming loudly.
Luckily the elf was agile enough to dodge the heavy projectile that came flying at his head and missed it, only by a few centimetres.
“Robbie, it’s me! Calm down!”
He still screamed.
“Robbie, it’s Sportacus!”
He was still screaming.
“Robbie please! You’ve been screaming for thirty seconds straight, I’m not even sure how that’s possible.”
The scream continued.
At this point, the elf was fed up and walked calmly around the workbench, crouching down in front of the traumatised villain to offer him some comfort. The now traumatised man had his eyes covered in fear and he was shaking violently. Yep, he was certainly sleep deprived.
“Robbie. Please, look at me.” Sportacus said softly, pulling his hands away so that he could see the others face.
When Robbie did look at him, the elf’s heart sank. It was as if the villain had rubbed thick charcoal all over his eyes, as the dark circles that resided there looked so unnatural and painful. His skin was also incredibly pale, and he looked as if he hadn’t eaten very much in days. Sportacus sighed inwardly and let himself fall back onto the floor, sitting in front of his adversary with a solemn face.
“Don’t look at me like that!” Robbie finally hissed, turning his face away and looking at the floor in some sort of embarrassment.
“How long have you even been awake, Robbie!?” Was all the elf could think of to say.
“I-umm…I’m not sure actually.” Was the reply, more so directed to himself than Sportacus.
“How long have I been gone? Up there I mean?”
“Uhh…well, I personally haven’t seen you in about four days. The kids say it’s longer though.”
“Ugh, why do the brats even care!?” Robbie snarled, throwing his arms up dramatically.
He suddenly turned to look at the other man with an expression of pure venom that startled the elf greatly.
“Why do YOU even care!?”
Sportacus paused for a second before he brushed his fingers over the crystal in his chest piece, looking at Robbie with sympathy.
“Ugh I get it, you’re the hero. Right! But I’m the villain! I don’t need your help!”
“Robbi-”
“Don’t you Robbie me!”
“No, seriously!” Sportacus said firmly, taking the other off guard.
The elf sighed loudly and stood up, pulling Robbie up too out of reflex.
The villain had obviously had enough of Sportacus already, and snatched his hands back from the hero as soon as he could, letting out that animalistic snarl once again. This caused Sportacus to nearly trip over his own existence in shock and surprise, which must have showed on his face because Robbie looked him up and down in confusion. He watched as the sports menace’s nose and cheeks began to turn a bright crimson, which of cause set the other off too, causing a red hue to bring some colour back into his face, quite to the villains dismay.
“What’s your problem, sportaflop!?”
“W-what?”
“You’re pinker than pinkie’s hair! That’s what!”
A long, tense pause lingered between them as Sportacus tried to figure out what to say. Being dumbfounded and at a complete lack of words, he elected to say the first thing that came to his mind.
“Oh.”
“Oh!?”
“…How do you do that growl?”
“What!?”
“The growl. The really deep one you just did. How do you even…”
Robbie pitched the bridge of his nose in frustration and let out a deep sigh, not answering.
“Please. Just leave.”
Sportacus paused for a second and regarded the taller man for a second, slight sorrow creeping over him.
“…No.”
“No!?”
“I…-”
“You what!? You’re too stubborn!?”
“…I don’t want to.” The elf barely even managed to whisper, finally admitting to it to himself.
Robbie was taken aback and paused at that point, biting his tongue. Where was this even going?
Deciding that if the sports elf would allow his walls to come down, he could too, Robbie decided to pry slightly.
“…why would you ever want to stay with someone like me?”
“Well…Because I care about you, silly.” Sportacus said, letting out a small, tired giggle.
Robbie’s heart stopped for a second he swore. No one had ever really seemed to care about him even in the slightest, regardless of if he was actually kind to them or not. And now, to have this lean, super active pile of muscle say something like that after how he’d treated him all this time was mind boggling. Was this actually happening or was he hallucinating from exhaustion? He’d have to check that later.
Before he could make a note of anything however, he found himself being lead over to his chair by Sportacus, who moved the plate from the chair and set it gently on the floor, guiding Robbie to sit down before he fell down.
“Now promise me please Robbie, that if I leave, you’ll at least try to get some sleep?”
He sighed, touched by the worry in the elf’s voice and the kindness of the request.
“I wish I could but…I can’t.”
“Why?”
“You know I have terrible nightmares if I try.” Robbie mock growled, laughing slightly at the elf’s ignorance.
“I…I don’t know how to help you with that.”
Robbie let out another dry laugh.
“Of cause you can’t! Why would you even try!?”
Sportacus leant down in front of the chair where Robbie was now perched, looking up at him with such beautiful, delicate eyes. It took everything within Robbie to no to spill everything and reveal how he really felt about Sportacus at that moment, because he didn’t want to acknowledge it. He’d push it way back into the depths his mind as always, and try to mask it with evil schemes and name calling.
“Please let me stay with you tonight. Maybe I can wake you up before the nightmares take hold?”
A desperate plea. Why did he even care?
“I wish it was as easy as that, Sportaflop.”
Before he knew it, he had his hand lightly cupping Sportacus’ face, delicately stroking across his jawline with this thumb.
This action seemed to surprise both of them, but before Robbie could end the contact, the elf’s own hand came up to hold his. They stayed like this for a few minutes, but it only felt like a few seconds, and though neither would admit it, it hurt that they had to let go. Robbie couldn’t refuse anymore and sighed, defeated.
“Fine.”
“What?”
“You can stay tonight if you must. I’m too tired to deal with you right now.”
Sportacus smiled brightly, nodding and standing up. He bounced over to the disguise cases and pulled the large red screwdriver from it’s place.
“You get some sleep. I’ll tidy this up for you.”
Robbie would have argued, but he was just too tired.

All he could do was scream. Scream and cry as the nightmare slowly crawled it’s way back into the back of his mind, ready to strike again when he next fell unconscious.
He was however surprised to find as his brain cleared, that a warm body was holding him close, strong arms wrapped tightly around him. It was Sportacus.
“I forgot you were here.” He mumbled into the elf’s arm, refusing to look in the direction of his face.
Those arms just held him tighter, warming his entire body through. He was softer than expected, and smelled so sweet for a person who hated anything with even a grain of sugar in it. He had to laugh, of all the things he could possibly think of at this moment, he was wondering about how the elf smelled. He couldn’t help but keep laughing despite himself and buried his face deeper into Sportacus’ arm.
Suddenly, he felt a gentle pair of lips kiss his temple. Only lingering for a second but still enough to send a shiver through his spine, they brushed his pale skin for only a second, and were gone just as fast. What was that!?
Robbie tried to pull back so he could see the elf’s face and see what was going through his head, but instead he came face to face with a hatless Sportacus, gentle curls spilling over across his face and pointed ears. They bushed against Robbie’s face gently, making the villain realise that their faces were only inches apart. So close.
The look on the elf’s face was that of such worry that he’d never experienced before, which temporarily distracted him from staring at those gentle lips.
Words failed him. They really did. What was he supposed to say to that face.
They sat there like that for what seemed like hours, neither of them making a move or attempting to speak. Robbie did however discover that the elf had straddled him to be able to get close enough to hold him, but at this point he was more transfixed with the elf’s gorgeous face to care, eyes wandering over the elf’s form.
Eventually, and to his own surprise, Robbie was the one to break the silence.
“Please.” He whispered weakly, answering the unspoken question.
Sportacus gave him a look of apprehension, as if asking are you sure. Once he saw Robbie’s face however, he slowly…
…Closed…
…The…
…Gap.

His lips were so soft. Impossibly so. Soft and gentle and absolutely delicious. This was crazy. He was crazy. The whole town was crazy! Crazytown! He couldn’t believe this was happening, and by the seems of it, neither could the elf, as he kissed him so gently that it seemed like he was almost scared Robbie would disintegrate if he kissed harder.
Of cause Robbie had to take it upon himself to deepen it, moaning gently when Sportacus gripped harshly onto the back of the chair, pinning the taller man there with his sheer strength.
When they had to part for breath, Robbie almost passed out. Being sleep deprived, unhealthy and also having the air sucked out of his lungs was a lethal combination apparently. Sportacus could tell this right away and stopped himself from kissing down Robbie’s neck.
“Tomorrow. We’ll do this tomorrow.”
Robbie could only nod.
“But now, we both need sleep.”
Another nod.
One blink.
Two.
Three.
He was gone. Robbie was out like a light, followed quickly by Sportacus, who was still perched on the villains lap.
That was the first night that Robbie slept properly in years. It was also the first night he thought he would probably need a bed in years. Ah well, that could wait for tomorrow.

They met up over winter break.

Kei’s trying his best to school a face of indifference but he can’t because Kuroo’s here and Kuroo’s standing right next to me and Kuroo’s taking a selfie with me and Kuroo and Kuroo and

I apologize for the delay! I started this about two weeks ago, but then I suddenly got really, really into needle knitting and neglected to work on it (I am currently donning my freshly knit teal garter-stitch scarf I named Orange. I am content and currently in the middle of a cream-coloured mistake-stitch scarf (◡‿◡✿)). 

I drew this in celebration of my city finally getting some epic snowfall. I’m so excited for the holidays!

I used FireAlpaca to make this! Thank you to the anon who recommended this software to me ( ˘ ³˘)♥, I quite like it.

Thank you reading and uh, looking at my drawing teehee

2

【Weiss】Winter, she ’s so cute, can you buy it for me? My Christmas present wants a pet!
【Winter】Little snowflake, whatever you want I’ll buy it for you. How much is this cat?
【Blake】I am a postman, not a gift!

【Yang】Blake, your ear and tail are bald!
【Blake】Middle school girl are terrible……
【Ruby】Blake is really popular with girls!

2

Hello catsuggest, am two year old cat. Name Bully(hooman said it cause I bite and scratch wiffout reasons - have many reasons to bite and scratch though!), but goes by “kittycat” or “kitty”. Am not fat in summer, but in winter fur get BIGGEST and fluffy so looks fat.

Suggest: take up entire couch. Is nice, espefically if lay in the middle. If hooman tries makes you move, stare. If hooman touch ones, purr. If hooman tries sit next to cat, BITE. Couch is now property of cat 🐱

Alone on the holidays? Angry at your family?

Have I got a deal for you. I am a middle-aged, imprisoned war criminal who is desperately addicted to lyrium and was thrown out of the Templars in disgrace. I recently tried to help a Tevinter magister/darkspawn take over the world. The winter holidays approach and I’m fucking hungry. Petition Rutherford to let me out of prison for one night, and I can be your platonic date for an evening spent convincing your family that we’re in a long term relationship in order to torture them.

I can do the following, at your request:

-Openly and obnoxiously hit on other members of your family while you act like you don’t notice.

-Instigate arguments about politics, religion, and the Qunari

-Propose to you in front of everyone (cannot provide red lyrium ring, that’s on you)

-Pretend to be incredibly intoxicated as the evening goes on. (My lyrium rations are tightly regulated, but I can convincingly imitate someone stoned out of their damned mind, due to personal experience being stoned out of my damned mind.)

-Start an actual, physical fight with a family member, either inside or out where the neighbors can see. For a turkey drumstick, I will pick the same fight with Commander Rutherford.

I require no pay but the free meal I will receive as a guest! Direct all inquiries to the Skyhold prison cells and/or the Commander’s office. (x)

so this morning i bent myself
in half just to listen to the snap. it’s
just that when i woke up i couldn’t
hear anything and when i smiled
in the mirror it was all grimace. it’s
winter in here and i can’t stop
thinking about the night we drank
(and drank and drank until our
blood was liquid-hot and your eyes
went wild) and you tasted like wine
even though all we had was vodka
and it was love but not Love. so here
i am snapped clean down the middle
and one-half wrote a love letter like
a suicide note and one-half fell
for every girl on the street but when
she kissed them they felt her
incomplete, and when she found
her match dead with pen in hand
she wrote her own romeo and juliet,
and when the sun finally rose they
were together with nothing left.
—  THIS ONE’S NOT FOR YOU | a.e.m.
Ice cream?

Will stared out the window, wondering if there would be any activity, knowing there wouldn’t be.
Even with the vacant building the work still sucked, especially in the winter months. But hey, that’s what you get for working in an ice cream shop in the middle of New York, in friggin’ winter. Though He couldn’t complain too much, the pay was decent considering, and anything giving him some cash through college was a blessing from the gods, or even God with a capital G, Will didn’t really care what you believed as long as he got paid.
He sat in a bar stool chair, looking the across counter. Dull eyes glazed over the brown wrist watch on his arm, not even registering the time as slender fingers buried themselves in soft blonde curls.
He sighed, “Why am I even here? Not like there’s any customers… and no thanks to the Stolls, I’m the only one here today”, he grumbled softly, rolling his eyes in exasperation.
He checks his watch again, actually looking for the time, and sighs, “Still two hours till my shift is over…”
Resigned he decided he might as well get some kind of work done while he waits for the endless stream of customers never to come. The only ones crazy enough to come to an ice cream shop in the dead of winter were probably all dying of some hypothermia or something, skinny dipping in ice like the psychos they are.
He threw open his backpack, ruffling through the many loose papers shoved into the pockets. He’d have to remember to clean this out, get his stuff organized sometime. More like get my life organized, Will thought bitterly, lugging the hefty micro biology textbook out of his bag.
It made a bang on the counter just as the little bell rang above the door, signaling his peace and tranquility were over.
“So much for studying..”, he mumbled under his breath.
He scooted the book off to the side, hiding it from view, planning to reopen it once this sucker was gone. He lifted his gaze, a well practiced sales smile plastered across his face, “Hello, welcome to Olympian Ice I’m-”
His words seemed to have been caught in his throat, his eyes staring, wide, at the man in front of him.
Oh hot damn, he thought, fighting the urge to whistle.
Dark, chocolate eyes met his, a shy smile playing on his lips. A curl of black, as if ink from a pen, fell forward and he can’t help the urge to brush it away from his olive skin, if not to see more of his face.
Will finally realizes he’d been staring as the man looks a bit uncomfortable, a hand reaching behind his neck nervously.
Will blinks, a blush forming on his cheeks, “I’m sorry, could you please repeat that?”
The man laughs, a rich sound floating to his ears and he wishes he could say something funny, if only he could hear that sound again.
“I said, you kind of just stopped at I’m… so, unless that’s your name, which is totally cool…”, he tailed off, a light Italian accent playing in his words, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. Will quickly rushes to amend his mistake as the man looked on expectantly.
“Oh- oh! Right,” will laughs nervously, “No, I’m Will Solace!”
But someone as fine as you could call me whatever he wanted, will thought. Or intended to think.
He wasn’t very good with his brain to mouth filter. And unfortunately for him, the man has ears, who knew!
“I’m sorry, what was that?” The man in front of him said, obviously having heard, a rose color dusting over his nose.
Will’s eyes widened and he blurted out, “I said A man like you could go for ice cream!”
Nice save Will, nice save, he reprimanded harshly to himself.
Oh, like you could do better.
I could try.
Wow, he really has to remember not to talk to himself, people might think he’s crazy.
“-that’ll be it, thanks.” The man smiled and Will realized he’d been taking an order the whole time he was having his little… conversation.
Will laughed nervously, “Alright! I’ll get you that right away!”
The man walked away from the counter and Will looked at all the flavors in front of him, though not without a glance at mystery man. (Hey, if he was gonna get fired after today, might as well, he’s screwed everything else up, right? What’s one more complaint from this handsome specimen going to do?)
The array of flavors and cones in front of him could have been ordered in any array of combinations. He was seriously screwed. His mouth set into a determined line, jaw squared. Let’s do this thing!
***
Nico stared at the man behind the counter, watching as his hands deftly used the ice cream scoopers. Will looked up and Nico quickly adverted his gaze, whistling quietly, trying to be inconspicuous. What was he doing here, he didn’t even know what flavor he asked for, he chucked to himself at his thoughts. He couldn’t help but steal another glance at the blonde haired beauty behind the counter. Those sky blue eyes made him forget his own name, he was so glad the man had made a falter of his own, for Nico had could hardly read his name tag, too nervous. He watched as his toned arms dug deep into the solid cream, and for a guy who worked in an ice cream shop in the middle of winter, with a short sleeve uniform shirt (which you wouldn’t be hearing Nico complain about) he seemed pretty okay with the cold.
It probably helped it was about 70 degrees in here though.
“Uh, sir,” the man called, “your ice cream is done.”
Nico looked over at where the voice had come from, oh god, more talking, he thought nervously.
Shoving his hands in his dark jeans, as to not play with the ring on his finger, he walks over to the counter, eyes glancing at the sparse tip jar.
“I’m surprised a guy like you doesn’t have more tips,” he mutters, mostly to himself.
“What was that?” The man asks and a blush irrupts on Nico’s face.
“Oh nothing,” he laughs nervously, paying for his creamy treat.
“Thanks,” he smiles, taking the receipt.
“There is a survey that you can fill out, to express how you thought the service was,” Will said, his voice sounding tense with nervousness.
“Alright,” Nico said, a smile on his face, grabbing a pen and paper.
***
The man walked out of the store, the paper left sitting on the table.
Will stared at it, as if the man had just signed his death warrant.
Here goes nothing, he thought bitterly, walking over to the table to retrieve it.
His eyes skimmed it, (yeah, say whatever you want about being a bad employee, but hey, he just left it out, what else was I supposed to do?) and practically bit off his tongue as he saw what was written at the bottom.

It was a number, and a note addressed to him:
The name’s Nico by the way, call me sometime ;)

Will stared at the note, slowly pulling out his phone, putting in the number.
He would definitely be calling sometime.
Maybe this job wasn’t so bad after all.

darling,
you are a honey comb
and i am a starving bear
awaken in the middle of november
by her own growling heart


honey,
you are a field of flowers,
the shyest messengers of spring -
i need to learn to wait
so patiently to see
the crowns of your affection bloom


buttercup,
you are a singing river
fluid through my arms of stone
i’m letting go, take me away -
the sea is nothing
but the happy tears in my eyes


sunshine,
you are needed more than air,
let your golden silk melt down
this old, worn out winter fortress


icarus, old friend,
rest quiet,
my wings shall not be charred  -
love has lifted me this high,
love has made them strong enough.

—  she, toni pashova
Imagine Connor getting sick, but he’s too stubborn to admit he needs your help

Originally posted by jiruchan

A/N: I hope to be filling out as many of the older requests as possible today- they might be a bit short in comparison, though!

You knew two things for certain when it came to Connor.

The first, he never got sick.

The second, the first one was a lie.

You had returned from a trip to town when you noticed the first symptoms of sickness in Connor. He was sniffling, stuffed up, and even though he was always warm to the touch, he looked like he was sweating; it was the middle of winter.

You wasted no time getting down to business, “Connor, are you feeling alright? You look a bit… uncomfortable.”
Connor waved you off, “I am fine, Y/N. It is nothing-” He hurriedly grabbed a handkerchief and sneezed. Looking a bit closer, you noticed his eyes were a bit puffy and his nose was red.
“Connor, I mean it, you aren’t feeling well. Here, lie down and I’ll get you some water and make some soup for you.”
“That is not necessary, I can manage.” Connor continued. You crossed your arms, “Oh really? You look half-dead. I’m sure whatever you think is so important can wait until you’re back to your normal, healthy self.”


Connor half-glared in frustration, “I do not get sick. I will be fine.”
You crossed your arms, “Suit yourself.”

Three days had passed and Connor had only gotten worse. You had kept nagging him about getting help, but he only got more obstinate about it. Finally, you stopped being nice and cornered him in the kitchen while he was looking for something to eat.

“Connor, I’m not letting you leave this room until you tell me why you’re being so… stubborn about this!”
“I am not sick, Y/N. You are the one who is being stubborn!” His voice raised a bit, but at the moment you didn’t care.

“What’s wrong with admitting you’re sick? Everyone gets sick! I get sick, too! You’re just making it worse for yourself by not letting me help!”

Connor’s voice was practically a growl, “I. Am. Fine. Now let me go.”
“No.”
Connor disregarded you entirely and began walking past you. You, acting fast, grabbed his arm. Of course, in this prickly mood of his, Connor instinctively ripped his arm out from your hand, a serious glare on his face. You’d never seen him so… mad. You pulled your arms to your chest defensively, eyes glittering with hurt and concern.

Connor’s attitude changed right away; he never meant to scare you or make you feel bad.

“Y/N, I… I am sorry. I did not mean…” You were still rather spooked, and Connor had to find the words to apologize quickly.

“I did not want you fretting over my wellbeing, I-” He sneezed halfway through his apology, his eyes watering a little. The corner of your mouth raised just a little in amusement, but you were still quite cautious about the whole thing.

“I am sorry. I thought I could get better on my own, but it seems I was wrong.”
You opened your mouth to say something, but Connor raised a hand to stop you, “You only wanted to help me, I know that now.” He looked down at his feet; a telltale sign that he was blushing.

“Connor.” Your voice made him glance back up at you.

“Would you like some soup, and something to drink?”
“…Yes please.”

anonymous asked:

“I’m a fashion major and I’m working on my illustrations and maybe I’ve had too much coffee but I swear I just saw one of the mannequins move so here I am calling you in the middle of the night please help I’m scared” AU. 2nd person with bucky barnes (MCU) please and thank u x

“Bucky, I’m not fucking around.” Your voice is hushed, drawing out the ‘y’. You’re trying not to jostle your leg too hard, make too much noise, but it’s hard. The caffeine hit you hard and, at four in the morning, you’re about two seconds away from either dropping dead of fear or of exhaustion. “I’m terrified out of my goddamn mind- I swear one of em just moved.” 

“I…” Exhaustion is clearly evident in his voice too, and, for a fleeting second, you wonder if it’s because you woke him up, or because he just never went to sleep. You’d almost bet on the latter. “Ok, so…” You can hear his palm drag across his face, like he’s trying to push something awake into his features. “What… What would you want me to do, then? Punch each one of them to be safe? Steve… Steve’s closer to your studio, you want me to get him to tag along?”

He sounds vaguely amused, or annoyed, or some combination thereof. He mostly sounds a bit relieved, which is something you can’t fathom why. “I dunno if it’s the caffeine, or hell I don’t know Ultron? I’m always afraid I’ll brush one of these things off and, like, five minutes later it turns out I got the first taste of the Chitauri invasion.” You sigh, pinching your nose and trying to steady out your breathing. “I’d just feel a lot safer if someone was in the apartment with me.” Your voice takes on a pleading note. “Really, Buck, I’m losing it here.”

He lets out a long, sustained breath. “Alright, see you soon.” And the line goes dead on the other end. With somewhat shaky hands, you set your phone down on the table, picking your pencil back up. You try to pen out the decorative flower on the mannequin farthest from where you’re sitting on the couch, but you’re shaky and tense. 

Really, your shoulders don’t drop from your ears and your heart rate doesn’t settle until you hear the spare key in the lock. Bucky comes in, tired and uncoordinated, bumping into dangling lights and, just as startled by them as they were jostled by him, darts his right hand out to make sure they don’t swing to far.

He leans over the back of the couch, looking down at you, then across to the room of fashion mannequins. “So, which one do I-” He interrupts with a yawn, then covers it with one hand, as if he were faced with a real enemy to fight. “Which one was it?”

“One to the right.” You peep, your finger pointing accusatorially at it. Dutifully, he swaggers up to it, glaring menacingly, and stays that way for about a minute. After that, he cocks his head in your direction, as if saying, ‘Is that enough?’. You feel bad for asking him to do this, but he is a comfort. “Yeah, that’s… that’s enough, Buck.” You feel like a dumb kid who told their parent their was a monster in the closet, only for them to have the doors thrown wide, revealing hung clothes. 

“’You feel any safer?” And he says it like he means it, like it means something that you called him here to check for Boogeymen. 

“Yeah… Yeah, really, thank you.” You get up on wobbly legs (somewhat numb from you sitting cross-legged for so long) to throw your arms over his shoulders, your head bent slightly to his chest. “You’re the best.” 

“It’s nothing, really.” He turns around, blinking somewhat blearily at you. “Mind if I stay?” Bucky doesn’t give any reasoning, but he looks genuine, so you shrug, pat at the couch. He shuffles over and drops his deadweight beside you, pulling the cushion downwards under his weight and pulling you closer to him by proxy. Casually, “Wake me up if any of the other ones move.”

I don’t know about you, but I am never one to turn down ice cream. Even in the middle of midwest winter. 

Ice Cream bby Bear Cones are here.

Instagram: @marchoftheblacksheep :)

Some nights I will be handing you apologies so quickly you will not be able to hold them all. They will slip out of your hands and shatter like teardrops. You will not understand why I am crying and I cannot fathom why you haven’t left. I have propped the door open with all the things I cannot give you, you come home to your bags packed but find your shoes are hidden. These are the nights I make alphabet soup and take out all the letters that could be used to spell “leave” but still try to make “please don’t.” My sadness fits me too well, a winter coat I can’t take off, even in the middle of summer. You hide yours in the back of the closet where our skeletons are learning to dance together. Their chattering keeps me up and that’s why sometimes I have to sleep on the couch. One step forward, two steps back. You say we don’t have to dance like they do but I sold all your records to buy the lock for the closet door.

If I leave, it’s not you, I swear it’s not you.

—  What I should’ve given you instead of a wedding ring, Elizabeth McNamara
Be loud and obnoxious while I'm playing with my friends? Enjoy your "glitchy" of Internet!

(warning: long story)

What you need to know:

  • I am the ONLY person in my house who knows how to PROPERLY use a computer
  • I have a little brother who was 12 at the time and is 13 now.
  • My little bother is a console peasant who ONLY plays Destiny with his friends while shouting the WHOLE TIME.
  • My parents forced me to allow my bother to use my Xbox Live account to play with his obnoxious friends because I am the only one who knows to manage the stupid thing.
  • I don’t play with my friends often due to school work and other things going on in my life so when I do get on, I expect him to be respectful
  • My brother is in middle school and I am in High school so I get home considerably earlier than him.
  • Because of reasons my parents forced me to put my computer in the “Office” along with the Xbox 360

Keep reading

Tagged by @mego42

Since I’ve done this before, I’ve decided so that I get some different results, I am literally going to saunter over to my DVDs of TV series, and list 10 from there.

Rules: tell us your ten favorite people from ten different fandoms and then tag ten people.

The 100: Abby Griffin

BSG: Apollo

The Borgias: Cesare

Community: Abed

Firefly: Zoe

The Hour: Lix Storm

Legend of the Seeker: Kahlan

The Musketeers: Milady de Winter

Versailles: Philippe d’Orleans

Vikings: Athelstan

Tagging: @nevawaveharp @heymoon9 @sigurism @tatzelwyrm @sanellycarmen @di-daydreamer @lady-musketeer-of-middle-earth @lianaofrome @i-own-loki @unkindness313

Coffee Shop Romance - Sebastian Stan x Reader

Word Count: 1,396

Trigger Warning: only a bit of secondhand embarrassment

Genre: Fluffy wuffy

Author’s note: Hello! This is my first time posting a Sebastian Stan ficlet, I’ve wrote a Bucky Barnes fanfic before and am currently in the middle of writing another, so please be gentle with me. Though if you think I’ve ruined Seb’s personality please do tell me, I want to make sure I’ve got him just right as I plan to post a lot more… obviously, that’s why I made an entire blog for it ^^

TAKING REQUESTS


It had practically become a routine by now, you arrived to work at the coffee shop and waited in anticipation for him to arrive. You could only really call the man him as he never gave you his real name, he always went with the names of characters from some TV show, and its how you’d know what he was watching at the time. And it was also the only thing you could ever converse with him about.

“He come in yet?” Your co-worker asked, passing by you with a tower of mugs in his arm. The sight of this unsteady tower made your heart race, though that might of been because he mentioned him.

Shaking your head both in reply, and also in disagreement with how he’d decided to carry all those cups at once. You moved to lend a hand, taking half of his collection and putting them away into their rightful place. “Another hour,” you guessed, “he normally arrives around eleven.”

“Stalker,” he chuckled.

In reply you shot out your tongue at him, grabbing a cloth and running off before he could say anything else on the matter. Besides, you knew he cared about the man’s name just as you did. It had become this big thing where you worked now, on breaks you’d all sit and guess what name he had, most people agreed that he looked like an Aidan but you strongly disagreed.

Though seeing him was normally the highlight of your day, so was getting paid which is, after all, why you actually have this job. And so you busied yourself travelling around the room, cleaning tables and grabbing the empty mugs and plate’s people left at the tables. From time to time you’d end up having a conversation with some of the more sociable customers. There were other regulars than just him. There was Bernadette, a retired air pilot who came in everyday to have tea and a scone; and there was also Jamie, who somehow managed to appear every day with a different girl by his side.

Just as you were chatting away with one of the toddlers that had tried to make the coffee shop their own personal playground, your co-worker abruptly called your name. You quickly looked up, the surprise of his voice causing a quick reaction, you spotted your co-worker stood behind the counter and in front of him just so happened to be the guy with no name. “Your man is here!” He called, waving a hand in your direction.

Your heart constricted as you heard what he said, and you watched in horror as the guy’s eyebrows shot up in reaction to the same exact words. Wanting to fix the situation as soon as possible, you rushed over, taking charge of the serving station. Your co-worker left to do another job, making sure to wink at you first before he made his exit. Then you proceeded to turn to him, feeling a blush overpower the normal shade that covered your skin, “your man?” He questioned, a slight smirk stretching the corner of his lip upwards.

“I… uh… You’ll be wanting the usual right?” You couldn’t figure out what to say and so you just went into work mode, where only doing the job to the best to your ability was on your mind.

The way you acted caused his smirk to transform into a smile. He leant against the counter, the close proximity of his body making you even more nervous, if that was possible. “You know, the denial is only making it worse in my head.”

You huffed and slumped your shoulders, as you blew air from your lips your hair pathetically drifted upwards for a moment before flopping down once more in front of your eye. “I can explain,” jokingly he placed his head in his hands and looked towards you expectantly. “So it’s sort of become a thing here now that we don’t know what your name is, you never tell us what it is and I guess my co-worker just hates me enough to make you aware of my small obsession.” There was a moment of silence after that as he seemed to think over what you’d said, but this only fuelled your anxiety. “Obsession was the wrong word, that whole thing sounded less weird in my head, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine, honestly.” He smiled, and it made a slight flutter appear in your belly. It was the way his lips lifted upward, the way his one dimple crinkled, the way his teeth are perfectly aligned. The warm glow his happiness gives, it was like his smile was a ray of sunshine, and you were now sunburnt. “How about you make my drink and we forget all about it.”

But you didn’t want to forget about it, you wanted to know his name. Though you feared pushing it anymore would make you sound crazier. So you resignedly asked the question, “What am I writing on the cup?” Expecting that the answer you would get was probably Jon Snow as the last time he’d ordered coffee, he had said he was going to start watching Game of Thrones soon.

You asked this question just as he was pulling money from his wallet, though an idea suddenly seemed to hit him and he returned the money back to his wallet, “It’d only make sense if you wrote what was on my credit card.”

A mix of emotions hurtled towards you as you grabbed a hold of the credit card he was handing to you. There was the excitement as finally discovering his name, disappointment that it had ended up being so easy and also the anxiety was still settled in the bottom of your belly. By this point you had to admit it to yourself, you found him very attractive, not just because of his face, but also because of the mystery that surrounded him.

“Sebastian,” you mumbled after the reading the credit card in your hand, “that’s a much nicer name than Batman.”

He released a loud laugh at that comment, a nice laugh. “True, I was originally going to go with Penguin that day though, so it could have been worse.”

You handed him back the card and it came accompanied with the drink he wanted. Though on the inside you kind of wanted to continue this conversation as now that you actually knew his name it felt like a connection was finally made. He said goodbye as he grabbed his things, allowing the customer behind him to step forward. “Oh, sorry,” he said as he walked back, apologising to the customer. “Now you know my name, I think it’s only right I know yours.”

You had to look down at the floor this time, your blush too much red and your smile too much teeth. “Y/N,” you introduced, the glee in your tone very clear.

His smile only seemed to grow too, “okay.” He walked off again, only it was just as you apologised to the customer yourself that Sebastian returned once more. “Sorry, again, this will be the last time I swear.” The customer huffed and crossed their arms, but made no move to stop him. Sebastian turned to face you once more, “do you want to go on a date with me, Y/N? Maybe get to know more about me than what I’m watching on TV.”

First of all, you wondered if the words ‘that escalated quickly’ suited this situation well enough, a few minutes ago you didn’t even know each other’s names. “Okay,” you said the word through unexpected giggles of excitement. This whole situation was making you feel as nervous as a stereotypical high school girl being asked out to prom or something, hence why you were reacting in such a girlish way.

“Okay,” he repeated, acting sort of surprised that you’d even said yes.

“Okay,” you said again, not really sure what was left to say. ‘Calm down,’ you told yourself, ‘you’re an adult for crying out loud.’ 

“I finish work at six,” you revealed, mentally high fiving yourself at formulating words other than ‘okay’.

“Right, I’ll see you then, then.” There was something very adorable about how goofy he was acting.

“Okay,” so much for formulating other words than.