okay, but hufflepuff!hoseok and slytherin!yoongi would make the most adorable couple?
and yoongi would try to keep it private, but since it’s hoseok he is dating, everyone and their mother would know from day zero that they are a thing now. and hoseok would have this annoying habit of sending him love notes during their classes together which would bump into yoongi and erupt into dozen little hearts. and the hufflepuff half of the class would go awwww, and the slytherin half would be wolf-whistling and sniggering. and yoongi would be utterly mortified each time it happens, but secretly adore it all the same because he’s whipped af for his loyal hardworking sun of a boyfriend.
Bucky likes to cook, Clint likes to taste, but isn’t allowed anymore.
(Bucky has good reason, even Clint will admit. Which doesn’t mean he won’t try. Unless he asks for the help of a certain redhead though, he will never be stealthy enough to get past the former Winter Soldier.)
The Guardians of the Galaxy fic I mentioned inspired by a throwaway line and this guy.
The tailor sat in his area, quietly stitching together the boots he’d been working on for himself for months. Between new crew members that joined up and old crew members that ruined their suits, he hadn’t had a moment to work on his own gear in quite some time. It never helped that half the time he’d get started on a suit for a new crew member just to have them quit, die, or get jettisoned into space.
Gear came in with a bag of groceries, dropped them on the table, and slid over to Thistle in a rush that he tripped and ended up on his back. He then got back up, looking nervous. "People are telling me you're in heat? Is this ri- Oh hi Lav."
*Lavender waves casually.
“I gave’em a juice-box and a back massage. He’s feelin a bit better.”
“You said you wouldn’t tell anyone about the back massage, you asshole…”
“H-hey, Gear! Uh… No! It’s fine! It’s just… R-really hot in here…Heh-summer!…Am I right!?”
“Pft…. Yeah whatever…”
“Okay- but in all seriousness I didn’t know until someone said something… Don’t judge me! It’s not like I wanted this to happen! How was I suppose to know?”
B33 < take off your shades, and look them all in the eye and just say
B33 < fuck each and efurry one of you!
I saw a sprite of Dave without his shades once, a long, long time ago. I don’t know where it is now but it remains my headcanon for his eyes! Davepeta I’d assume to have Nepeta’s eyes and the Davebrows.
A/N: Hey everyone! I just wants to say that I’m so grateful that I received a lot of support. Thank you very much. Here is the second chapter I hope you liked it. Also, special thanks to @silvermidnightprincess@acaigawrites and @whereisthefood123 for helping me with grammar. Thank you so much!!
Anime: Fairy Tail
Rated: T (Language)
Genres: Romance, Hurt/Comfort
Status: On going
Summary: Tired of being “the damsel in distress”, Levy left the guild without telling anyone except Master Makarov. She spent three years far away from Magnolia learning new spells to improve her skills. But finally, is time to return home. What’s that strange magic she learn?
Footsteps sounded from the entrance of the guildhall.
“Jet! Droy! It’s time to go. The client is waiting for us,” Levy said cheerfully. “It’s been a while since I got up early to catch the first train.” She confessed to her teammates.
“Hey Levy!” She turned her head towards the voice. “Are you sure about this job?” Jet asked, sounding somewhat worried. “Beating a small dark guild is not an easy task.”
Levy smiled reassuringly. “Of course! I want to show you just how much I’ve improved in a hand-to-hand combat. I’ve grown in magic power, and…” Levy leaned forward. Curious, Jet and Droy leaned closer to her, eager to hear what she had to say. “I have a card under my sleeve,” she revealed quietly to them.
Jet and Droy glanced towards each other with confusion invading their facial features. “Why don’t you pick a translation job or something more… you know, peaceful?” Droy suggested.
The blue-haired girl sighed. “Guys! It’s time to show everyone what we’re made of!” She stretched her arms and held them close to her. “Shadow Gear will come back at full force!” She exclaimed positively.
Levy extended her arm towards her two teammates. Jet and Droy followed suit, each placing their hands on top of hers. “Shadow Gear is back! We will never break apart!” The team said in unison.
Magnolia’s most cheerful guild was making their everyday destruction, drinking and singing routine. Keeping his distance from the calamity, our favorite dragon slayer couldn’t take his eyes off a certain someone.
Shadow Gear came back from that job four days ago and I’ve noticed a few things… Gajeel thought, “He looks so pathetic.” He let his hand rest on his right cheek, still contemplating his comrade’s condition.
“Are you staring at Jet again?” Pantherlily asked.
“How am I not supposed to stare if he looks like hell! Just look at him Lil’” Gajeel replied irritated.
“Both of them sure seemed terrified.” Lily replied referring to Shadow Gears male members. “What happened on that job?” A tone of concern was now heard in Lily’s voice.
“I don’t know. Something smells fishy and it ain’t Salamander’s cat food.” Gajeel replied. Why are Shrimp’s lapdogs acting so different? Every time someone says Levy’s name they change the subject. They didn’t even answer Demon girl’s questions. His eyes turned to the blank space that is the blue haired girl favorite spot. And Levy…she hasn’t shown up in the guild either. He thought. “All this shit is confusing!” He thought out loud.
This came out of a nonnie request: “I wish you would write a fic where Jyn/Cassian don’t understand the depth of their feelings for the other until they share a casual hug that slowly turns into a desperate embrace.”
Not sure if this is what you hand in mind, dear nonnie, but this is where my brain went.
“Good shot, Captain.” Jyn limped onto the ship, signalling to Bodhi that they were good to take off.
“Well, you lined it up for me. Thanks for that.” he dropped his rifle and gear and came immediately to Jyn’s side. “Here, let me help you.”
Jyn let him help her, let him hook her arm around his shoulder, awkward as it was since he was taller than her. She kept her mind on the pain in her injured leg, kept it away from the unfamiliar hitch in her throat that being close to him raised in her. She let him help her to a bench, let him rummage around in the med pacs and apply bacta patches, wincing from his every touch.
“I’m sorry if that hurt.” he said, and she let him think she winced from the pain. She let him help her get comfortable for the long trip back to base. By then, it had become too much.
“I’m okay now, thanks.” and he knew exactly what she meant. She turned her head away from him.
“I’ll go check on Bodhi and Kaytoo.” he managed, and then he disappeared into the cockpit of the ship.
The silence his retreat left behind was deafening.
Lieutenant Pat McEntee in the Atlanta witnessed it: a Wildcat closing fast on a Betty from behind. The fighter was evidently out of ammunition, for its driver resorted to an unusual tactic. Down came his landing gear. Down went his airspeed. It looked to McEntee as if he was trying “to set his ship down on the bomber’s broad back. And he did—again and again, and again, with sledgehammer impact. He literally was pounding the enemy into the sea with his wheels.” The bomber pilot had no escape. If he tried to pull up, it only increased the force of the impacts. Any evasive turn was easily matched by the agile fighter. “The only course open led down. But before the Jap could make a decision, something snapped under the pounding and the bomber plunged beneath the waves of Savo Sound.
James D. Hornfischer, Neptune’s Inferno: The U.S. Navy at Guadalcanal
Written for @dancingalone21‘s 2K follower AU Funny Quote Challenge. I picked the quote: “Are we gonna fight or make out, cause I’m gettin’ some real mixed signals here.” The quote is bolded.
Word Count: 2360
Warnings: Mentions of injury; getting shot on the job
Reader is a cop that was shot in the line of duty. As part of her physical therapy, she picks up boxing at the local gym in town, On The Ropes, owned by two brothers, Sam and Dean Winchester. She is drawn to the elder brother when Dean starts working with her on moving, coordination and finally hitting. Once they get in the ring, things don’t go as planned.
A/N: unbeta’d, all mistakes are mine. Feedback and comments are welcome!
Your entire body protested as you rolled out of bed. The last couple of months had been physically, mentally and emotionally draining. Since being shot in the line of duty over 8 weeks ago, recovery had been slow, to say the least. After completing out-patient physical therapy, your therapist had suggested something a little tougher for you, considering your job and attitude. So he gave you the name and address of a place he had sent patients before.
You found yourself outside the building, looking up at the sign that read “On The Ropes.” That is exactly how you felt. You couldn’t return to work for at least another month and felt like you were going stir crazy just sitting in your empty house. It’s now or never, you thought as you hiked your bag over your shoulder and pushed the door open.
The place was a lot bigger than outward appearances led you to believe. There were two separate rings and three workout areas on just the first floor alone, although you could see stairs, so you could only guess there was more upstairs. What you considered ‘workout’ music was pumping throughout the space. A man with shaggy brown hair walked over, welcoming you.
“Hi, I am Sam Winchester, co-owner and trainer. What can I do for you today?” His voice was kind, he was incredibly tall and built like a Greek God, Hercules maybe. He was also quite attractive, his eyes swimming with color.
“Hi, Sam. Y/N Y/L/N. I was referred to you guys by my PT. This place is huge.” You told Sam, hiking your bag back up.
“Yeah, thanks. Pete called said you would be by. I am booked today, but my brother, Dean, is going to be your trainer. He is upstairs in his office, why don’t you follow me and we will get you set up. Sound good?” Sam was rather cheerful and you just were not really in the mood today.
“Lead the way.” You said, trying to keep your voice even. You didn’t want to have to do this. You just wanted back on the job.
Harley-Davidson FatBoy (FLSTF) 2007 “The Smoked” или Копчёный
Концепция этого мотоцикла менялась столько раз, что уже даже трудно будет вспомнить. Началось все с того, что у друга случилась неприятная история с мотоциклом и нам нужен был легальный донор. С момента покупки мотоцикла на аукционе Copart до фактического его получения на руки прошло месяцев 8, нам было очень тяжело признать через суд «это» транспортным средством.