Ok so hockey has surprised me this weekend and I’m living!
Until Wednesday… anyway! Enjoy guys!
Anon Request: hi!! i love love love your writing💓
can you do an auston matthews imagine where you guys like each other but aren’t
dating and neither of you know the other likes each other until you’re at a
game or something and a player/whoever tries to flirt with you and auston gets
really jealous and realizes he actually really likes you?? tyy!!
you introduce me to Connor McDavid?” you asked Auston as you walked into
the ACC with him and Mitch.
Streetcars at Wrigley in 1935 by cta web Via Flickr: Lined up to carry Cubs fans home during the pennant-winning summer of 1935, Clark-Wentworth streetcars wait end to end, in both directions.
The last car northbound (lower right) is one of the original 600 “Big Pullman” cars purchased in 1908 by the Chicago Railway Company. Ahead of it are three front-entry 1929-model “sedan” cars, famous for their upholstered leather bucket seats. Heading south with a full load is a “sun parlor” car built by the Chicago Surface Lines in 1923.
Tonight is the Cubs 2017 home opener, defending their World Series title against the 2016 NL series rivals LA Dodgers!
Going to see the Cubs at Wrigley Field? The CTA Red Line, as always, is the way to go! You can also take the Brown Line to Southport or Belmont and a variety of bus routes, including the 8 Halsted, 22 Clark, 36 Broadway and 152 Addison (which also connects with the Blue Line).
The bed dips beneath the weight of another person, and you feel a hand on your shoulder, gently shaking you awake from your jetlagged nap. Annoyed, you swat away the hand, turning to face the opposite direction, snuggling further into your pillow.
“Fine. Guess we’re all going to leave you to whine by yourself while Jisoo takes us out to get ice cream.”
No.8 with Obi-Wan and Bane for the kiss meme. Because I am trash and I am pretty sure you are somehow the reason why I started shipping them.
If I’m pulling people into things I enjoy, I’m doing something right.
I forget what number 8 actually is, so just have hat shenanigans plus smoochie smooches.
It is proven, well-known fact that the infamous bounty hunter, Cad Bane, never allows anyone to touch his hat.
Some have compared it to a Jedi and their lightsaber (and then quickly taken it back when the comparison earned them a dangerous red-eyed glare), and others have simply said that bounty hunters always cling fast to what little they have. It’s their nature.
But there is one man, so it is said, that has not only touched Bane’s hat, but even worn it, and *lived* to tell the tale. That man was someone with an equally famous story following him, though with vastly different details: Obi-Wan Kenobi.
They say if you sit in the right cantina and talk to the right person on the right day, you’ll hear the story in its complete, truthful entirety. You’re in luck today, for that’s exactly where you are.
None know the *actual* story. It begins, travels, and ends the way the best stories do: in a circle. It starts wi–
“Now, hold on. Hold on a moment.”
The Trandoshan quickly closes their mouth and gives the human patron sitting across from them a dirty look.
“What, old man?”
The human beneath the beaten brown hood has silver hair and tired blue eyes. He looks fragile, but Srrrsta (that’s the Trandoshan) knows that anyone that finds their way into this particular hole-in-the-wall in the ass-end of Mos Eisley is anything but.
The old man smiles genially and sips at his drink. *Tea* of all things, in a *bar*. “If none know the true story, how can you expect to tell it?”
Srrrsta bares their fangs. Fuck, but they hate killjoys. “The fun is in the telling, now shut up and listen.”
The old man nods and respectfully shuts up. Srrrsta clears their throat.
It starts with a Jedi and a bounty hunter, two once enemies meeting again after many years. They–
“What the hell are they talkin’ about?”
Srrrsta stops with a huff and quietly fumes as a Duros (ironic) takes the seat beside the old man. He pulls off his hat and hands it to the old man, pulling at the facial implants connected to the bottom of his jaw until they came free with a click.
“Oh, they’re telling a story about Obi-Wan Kenobi and Cad Bane,” the old man says pleasantly.
“Trying to,” Srrrsta grumbles.
The Duros scowls and plants a boot firmly on the table. “Sounds dull.”
Srrrsta slams their fists on the table. They can do better than this. “Figure out your own ending, then!” they snap, and storm off.
Their absence is quickly absorbed and forgotten in the general noise of the cantina. The old man continues to sip at his drink, while the Duros eyes him curiously as he pulls a toothpick from an unseen pocket and sticks it between his jagged teeth.
“Not even gonna try to run, are ya?”
The old man shrugs. “A struggle is unnecessary. If you were going to kill me, you would have already, and if you were going to turn me into the Empire, you would have picked a place with less, shall we say, competition.
The Duros snorts as the old man sets his empty glass down on the table with a soft clunk and wrapped his hands around the hat on his lap.
"Fair ‘nough,” Bane mumbles. “What are you doing in a place like this anyway, Kenobi?”
“Surviving. How about you, Bane?”
Bane pulls his foot off the table, and then stands slowly. “Bored. Ain’t no fun when they’re barely any Jedi left to hunt.”
“I could run screaming out the door and you can chase me through the streets for a while if that will help this particular existential crisis.”
Bane sneers, and stoops down to pick up his hat. His fingers brush along Kenobi’s and stay there for a minute longer than necessary. “Jabba has a bounty on your head that could buy someone a small moon. I suggest makin’ yourself scarce for a while.”
Kenobi’s thumb rubs along one of Bane’s long blue fingers. “Duly noted. Perhaps I might even turn myself in. One can always use the extra income.”
Bane’s lip twitches up in what could be a smile, and he pulls the hat away. As he brings it up to his head, he stops it halfway, obscuring their faces from the crowd. With the hat there, he places a quick kiss to Kenobi’s whiskery cheek. “Keep yourself safe,” Bane murmurs in his ear, and then the moment is gone. His hat is on his head, and he’s walking away.
Kenobi keeps an eye on him until his form disappears among all the others, and then he waits a little longer, fingers hovering over his cheek.
All in all, he might’ve prefered the Trandoshan’s story, whatever it may have been. At least that one might have had sex in it.
10 Lams, please! (or you can stick it in your Alex in Albany series if you're still doing that)
10-“Teach me how to play?”
Late October 1776
A month ago, Hamilton had drilled his company in this courtyard. Dressed smartly in his artillery uniform and cocked hat, he was certainly unrecognizable from that state now, coatless with his shirt slovenly half-tucked. He could pass for a drunkard or a vagabond street boy.
It was effective.
Even if the locals in the Manhattan recognized him as the student, soldier and writer he’d been before the British invasion, he’d darkened his hair with ash before leaving the inn. Unrecognizable. Most of the locals left in the city were firmly Loyalist anyway- the sort of people that had stopped associating with Hamilton after his first flurry of pamphlets.
At my highschool graduation there were people walking around all of us taking pictures for websites and for the school. While just about everyone was facing forward, one woman wanted a sorta back shot of us but I saw her out of the corner of her eye and my first reaction was to look over at her immediately. And my instinctual reaction when pictures are being taken of me is to make a face other than a smile. This is one of the pictures you see on their site now. They used it. They uploaded it to their site to talk about my school’s graduation. I can’t believe it.
A/N: Ok, so here recently I was thinking about the “damsel in distress” trope, and thought, “Wouldn’t it be funny if the girl dipped the guy instead?” and when I thought about it, NaLu instantly matched up to this. And I had to write it. I didn’t proof read this so there is probably typos, but I hope you enjoy!
Summery: Lucy hasn’t been having a very good day, but sprinkle random chance with a REALLY good looking guy, and you have a recipe for an early summer.
Today had been another fabulous day for Lucy Heartfilia.
Of course by fabulous, she mean shit-tastic.
First she was late for her job at the coffee shop, had a guy flirt with her for 30 minutes straight as she tried to usher the man to please take his beverage and leave, and had coffee poured on her when she denied the jerks advances.
What was with guys these days? Lucy would never fully understand, and it’s why she had sworn off guys for the past few years, since her last boyfriend, Loke, had cheated on her a million times. The two had remained friends, but just friends was all Lucy every wanted to be, at this point.
Luckily for Lucy though, she didn’t have to walk home with a coffee stain on her shirt, as her friend, Erza Scarlet, lent her one of her shirts, since she always seemed to have spare clothes.
Lucy had been so wrapped up in her thoughts, she barely registered the shout from the guy in front of her, as he tripped on the curb.
He had his hands in front of him, probably to catch himself on the floor, but both Lucy and the guy-who was wearing a red beanie-practically screamed as his hands caught her shoulders instead.
Summary: The reader is a traveling musician who has come to Camelot to make some money.
Warnings: alcohol consumption
A/N: I used to work at a renaissance festival, and, oh my goodness, the musicians have definitely been one of my favorite parts of the job! They’re all such sweet people and the love that they have for their instruments is unreal. Excuse any musical mistakes I make–this is coming from someone with the musical talents of patio furniture (and not even good patio furniture, I’m talking about vintage wicker patio furniture that your grandma keeps around because it was a popular style in the 60s. That patio furniture).