Can we please take a moment to think about the early days of Ronan’s crush on Adam?
At first, Ronan didn’t like Adam. Not because of anything to do with Adam - no, it was more about Gansey. Ronan did not like having to share his attention.
So maybe he was a bit hostile at first.
And maybe Adam was hostile back, because Adam never used to smile easily and Ronan was everything he thought he hated.
Time passed. And it became clear that Gansey had adopted this boy, with his dusty hair and soft voice.
So Ronan paid attention to him instead of his jealousy.
And as the weeks past, he found that Adam was often the only person to laugh at his particular brand of macabre humour
and that the way Adam smirked at his feet whilst Gansey berated Ronan for not being Gansey enough made his heart flip
And once, in latin, he was close enough to Adam to notice that he smelled of engine oil and sweat.
And his hands whilst he wrote notes - Ronan could write poems about Adam’s hands.
He did once or twice but they are hidden and no one knows.
Until one day, years down the line, Chainsaw pulls the crumpled paper out of a crack in the floorboards.
Anyway Ronan falls even further behind in class than usual because Adam’s hands are never still and they are so interesting, strong and tanned and callused, scars dotting the knuckles and freckles scattered across the skin.
Ronan’s first fantasy about Adam involved kissing his knuckles.
He didn’t mean to imagine it, and he hated himself for the rest of the day
because he didn’t know when looking turned into feeling
and it was OK to admire Adam, as one admired art, but it was not OK to dream of him.
But he couldn’t help it.
Once he thought of Adam’s hands against his lips, he couldn’t stop it.
He got butterflies when he saw Adam, watched the clock and counted the minutes until the end of the class and the chance to pass him in the corridor.
His insults to Adam got worse, an attempt to counterbalance the fact that he smiled too much whenever Adam laughed.
At night, he replayed their conversations, Adam’s movements, wondered if Adam’s feet had been facing him, because someone told him once that that was how you knew someone liked you.
He imagined what it would be like to kiss Adam, a thousand permeations of the scene.
In some, they were alone, maybe in cabeswater, and Adam would turn to him, and their eyes would catch, and Ronan would open his mouth to let his heart spill out, but Adam would smiles and say “I know” and he’d catch Ronan’s parted lips between his own.
In others they were in his car, victors of a street race, an urgent clash of bodies, the scent of gasoline and burnt rubber in his nostrils.
In one, they are at the Barns, sun pouring through the window, pressed against the kitchen counter.
In all of them, Ronan is so overcome with longing that he forces himself to think of something else.
When Blue dated Adam, he hated her the way he had hated Adam to start with, only this time it hurt more.
Because he couldn’t compete with Blue. Adam would never look at him the way he looked at Blue.
Ronan sneered and swore and internally he fractured apart. His dream turned to Kavinksy, dreams of savage smiles and sticky skin.
They made him feel worse than any thoughts of Adam.
Then Adam started looking back.
And he tried so hard to read into it at first. So hard. He rationalized every lingering gaze away, found platonic excuses for lingering fingers and flirtatious comments.
Because if it wasn’t real, if it was just Adam, confused and rebounding from Blue, he couldn’t go near it.
But Adam didn’t stop looking.
And Ronan began to believe it was impossible that Adam’s stomach didn’t flip the way Ronan’s did when their eyes caught or their fingers brushed.
He knew Adam knew how he felt. Ronan had tried to hide it, had succeeded for a long time, but eventually the thought that Adam might take his distance for dislike won out over his pride.
When Adam gazed at him, sat beside him in the room Ronan grew up in,
Ronan didn’t let himself doubt.
The butterflies were still there, as they had been for years, but now the longing won out over the nerves
and he leaned in
like he had done in so many dreams
and he pressed his lips to Adam’s
and Adam’s parted, like they had done in so many dreams
and he’d never understood the limits of his imagination so keenly until that moment
because the simple reality of Adam, a little sweaty, warm and soft and willing against him, made imagined kisses in fast cars seem ludicrous
More Avengers Assemble fluff, because AA really is the good verse <3 This can be read as a continuation to Touch if you like.
The first time Steve nearly kissed Tony was during a team movie night. Tony had, as usual, curled up on the sofa next to Steve and promptly fallen asleep on his shoulder. Any attempts to move or readjust him where met with the sort of whining growls one usually heard from a particularly grumpy cat, so Steve decided against antagonizing him further.
They and the rest of the team had been watching Some Like It Hot. The 20s setting had made Steve nostalgic, but the charming comedy of errors had made him laugh out loud. And that Marilyn Monroe - she really was something, he’d said to Clint, who had enthusiastically agreed.
After the movie had ended and the team had departed to go to bed, Steve gently nudged Tony. “Hey, sleepy,” he’d said softly. “You missed the movie.”
Tony looked up from Steve’s shoulder and opened one eye. “Worth it,” he said with a dozy smile. “You’re very comfy.”
For a moment, their eyes met, and Steve realized that he could lean forward a few inches, turn his head, and brush their lips together.
Just as Steve was wondering where that thought came from and what he should do about it, Tony snuggled his face back into Steve’s shoulder and promptly fell asleep.
Hoo boi I'm feeling nostalgic so I hope you know this au: Victuuri in the Percy Jackson verse <3
omgomg okay here are some headcanons i had with @actualyuuri
1. victor is a son of aphrodite and has the ability to charmspeak—not that he ever really needs to use it. his charisma is a force enough to be reckoned with, as is his athletic ability when it comes to capture the flag. everyone at camp half-blood knows that victor’s team always wins, and everyone’s expecting him to turn out to be some sort of hero.
as it is, yakov won’t let him go on any quests.
“oh, but the young man is sprightly and ready for it,” celestino urges, waving a glass of wine in the air.
yakov narrows his eyes. “i’d rather send your twins.”
celestino glances at where sara and michele are tending to the vineyard. he frowns. “well, perhaps sara could handle it, but michele…”
2. when yuuri joins camp half-blood, he’s twelve years old and has no memories. yakov suspects one of celestino’s siblings dropped him off—inconsiderately, without so much as a warning, as greek gods do. but until yuuri is claimed, he doesn’t know for sure which one it is.
yuuri becomes bunkmates with phichit chulanont, son of hermes, for the time being.
3. a capture the flag game goes wrong. yuri plisestsky, child of ares, makes it a point to beat victor, really really beat victor, forreal this time, he swears to the gods.
otabek’s face says he doesn’t doubt him for one second, but otabek altin has always looked far too serious for someone covered in motor oil and engine grease 99% of the time.
still, yuri p’s defense strategy is weak, which he blames entirely on fucking katsudon, you unclaimed useless piece of shit, and the confrontation ends with ten campers falling into a fissure that cracks open in the ground and a flaming skull floating over yuuri’s limp form.
4. “holy shit,” victor says, carrying yuuri to the infirmary. he glances at chris. “he’s never going to like me back now, chris, holy shit.“
christophe giacometti, son of athena, looks at him in disbelief over the top rim of this glasses. “that’s what you’re freaking out about?”
“how could a son of the big three ever love me back?” victor says glumly.
chris considers this. “you could charmspeak him into it.”
victor shoots him a dark look. “that’s not even funny.”
5. it turns out that yuuri doesn’t need to be talked into liking victor, he doesn’t even need to be convinced into loving victor, if he’s being completely honest.
but if he continues to be completely honest, he recognizes that there’s no way a child of love could accept feelings from a child of a death, and gods. why is victor making this so hard?
“let’s walk our dogs down to the beach together, yuuri!” victor calls from outside the hades cabin. yuuri glances at the shrine of bones and jewels, at the fiery green torches that light the walls, and finally at his hellhound vicchan, whose tail is wagging madly at his feet.
he declines the offer.
+1. victor, yuuri, and yuri are tasked to go on a quest together. their parents are fighting, and it’s never good for the universe when love, death, and war are at odds with each other. the prophecy starts, ‘two souls destined for war,
a lover’s quarrel that’s happened before…’
but victor is treating this like some sort of game, it looks like.
“you could have gotten seriously hurt,” yuuri says.
victor pouts. “that’s no way to thank me for saving you! wasn’t i great?” he winks. “besides, can’t you just bring me back from the dead or something?”
“you’re a moron,” yuri tells him. he glares, because it’s what he does, and his resemblance to the god of war is almost funny. “both of you are fucking morons.”
Serpent Jughead takes good girl Betty to Prom, like in an old car of a motorcycle. Maybe like he wears his Serpent jacket instead of a tux and maybe they are questioning their fate but Archie and Ronnie rig the votes for them to be prom king and queen
Oof, this was actually a little tricky to write.
“What’s up Arch, I got your text?” Jughead asked as he slid into the booth across from his best friend. The red haired boy staring questioningly at Jughead.
“You either don’t know, or you don’t care.” He said agitated. Causing Jughead to look up at the sudden shift in his tone.
“Don’t know what?”
Archie pulled his backpack onto the table, digging inside of it and pulling out swatches of different colored fabrics
“Do you know what these are?” He asked.
Jughead stared at them for a few seconds, trying to find the answer to this ridiculous riddle Archie seemed to be playing
“They’re.. pieces of.. clothes?” He questioned hopefully.
“Wrong!” Archie slammed his hands on the table, sending Jughead flying backward into the booth in shock
“These are bow tie, fabric samples! I have gone over them thirteen times with Veronica, do you want to know why I have done that?” His eyes shifted crazily and Jughead opened his mouth to speak
“Because Jughead, it is Junior Prom. And every girl wants the perfect Junior Prom, therefore it is up to us as boyfriends to make that Junior Prom Perfect. Imagine my surprise when my good pal Betty tells me she’ll be going alone, now I know you’re caught up with your Serpent stuff and I know you don’t go to Riverdale anymore but Betty being happy is important to me, you should have seen her face when she told me she was going alone.. I mean it was…”
Jughead jumped out of the booth and skidded to his feet, running towards the door and cursing as he gripped his Leather jacket, shitshitshitshit. She had mentioned it, and he had been meaning to ask her, he was still thinking of a plan to do it. She had been completely supportive of his new life on the south side and he knew how hard it was for her, he had wanted to do this for her, makeup for the homecoming dance that had been ruined, but he damn well forgot. He stood in front of her front door, glancing at his phone, she would be coming out any minute now, she had late night cheerleading practice and he usually walked her to the school, lately he had been so busy he hadn’t had the time, she said she understood but he knew how badly he had been hurting her lately. He was such an asshole.
Right on time, Betty walked onto her front porch, her eyes widening when she saw her boyfriend before she broke out in a beaming smile
“Juggie” she said softly, pushing her pompoms into her backpack, the surprise and happiness on her face should have made him feel better but it only cemented the fact that he had been incredibly neglectful to his amazing girlfriend.
“Hey Juliet.” He smiled miserably, dropping a kiss to her cheek and swinging an arm over her shoulder
“To what do I owe the honor.” She teased, looking up at him and snuggling into his leather clad side. Jughead took a deep breathe, inhaling the peaches and vanilla of her shampoo, the soft feel of her silky blonde curls spurring on his confidence
“I’ve come to ask the fair lady to the ever cliche Junior Prom.” He said cornily, wrapping an arm around her waist. Betty stiffened before pulling away and laughing sadly
“That’s okay. It’s totally unnecessary, I’m sure you have better things to do than hang around some school dance with a bunch of your old classmates.” She pulled her backpack over her shoulder and he quickly took it off draping it over his own shoulder, he looked down at her, his eyebrows furrowed, did she really think he didn’t want to go with her? That she wasn’t important enough for him?
“I want to go Betty, I want to go with you.” He reassured her, stopping her in her tracks, and moving a hand to cup her cheek. Betty melted into his embrace before sighing
“You don’t have to do this Jug, I know how busy you are with the serpents, it’s just a silly dance.” She shrugged, standing on the steps of Riverdale
“Bets, we’re going and it’s going to be the perfect night okay? It’s our chance to forget about the serpents and everything in between, it’ll be just us. got it?“he said sternly, a goofy smile playing on his face as she leaned towards him, brushing her lips against his
"Okay Romeo, whatever you say.” With that she headed into the gym and left Jughead alone with his thoughts, it had to be perfect, she deserved it.
Unfortunately nothing ever goes as planned when it comes to either Betty Cooper or Jughead Jones, the night of the dance Jugheads truck broke down leaving him without any vehicle to pick up his girlfriend for their perfect night. To make it even better when he was trying to fix the engine, oil splattered all over his tuxedo leaving him in his suit pants and his leather Serpents Jacket, the only way he was going to get Betty to the Dance would be with his fathers motorcycle, the entire bike filled with Southside serpent bumper stickers and emblems. He pulled up to the Cooper Residence and took a deep breath, she was going to leave him, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind. Standing by the bike, leaning against the offending object his jaw nearly dropped to the floor when Betty exited her house.
She was wearing a long light yellow dress, it was strapless and showed off her toned arms, the top was folded pieces of soft fabric and the bottom billowed when she walked giving her the appearance that she was flying, his gaze skimmed the tan skin the dress left bare before landing on her face, her long dark lashes were thicker and framing her gorgeous light green eyes,her lips were shiny and her cheeks were rosy. He admired the way her long blonde curls were pushed out of her face but still left to fall down her back, clipped together by some sparkly contraption. She was going to be the most beautiful girl in the room and he couldn’t wait to take a picture and show the guys at Southside High.
Betty skeptically eyed the motorcycle and he instantly remembered what an asshole he was.
“The truck broke down, and I got oil on my tux its the best I could do.. Betty I’m so sorry, I..”
She cut him off with a simple peck and mounted the motorcycle
“There’s a first time for everything right, maybe I should have worn my ponytail, I’m not sure how well my hair will hold up on this thing” she giggled slightly as he slid in front of her, still feeling absolutely horrible but the feel of her tiny hands around his waist made him feel slightly better as she held on tight.
When they arrived at the dance, he immediately heard the murmurs from his classmates
“He’s a serpent!”
“Look at his jacket”
“Did you see what he showed up in?”
“Poor Betty, he doesn’t even care”
Betty sensed the tension in her boyfriends shoulders and gently tugged him towards the dance floor, wrapping herself in his arms.
“Thankyou for taking me tonight Juggie.”
The dark haired boy let out a sigh as he pushed a strand of hair out of her face
“You shouldn’t be thanking me for this Betty, I should have asked you sooner, I should have been more prepared. I ruined this night. I know that you have a lot on the line dating a Serpent and I haven’t made it any easier on you, I’ve been horrible to you. I’m so sorry, I love you so much and I just…” Betty cut him off, pressing her lips to his.
“I love you too, tonight was perfect because I was with you. I don’t need all the flashy business , I just want you. Gang member and all.” She teased, running her fingers over the logo on his back.
“You really are something else Betty Cooper.” He whispered dreamily, wrapping his arms tighter around Betty and sending up a silent prayer to whoever was up there for giving him the absolute best girlfriend in the world.
Maybe the town would try and divide them but together? They were stronger than all of the white noise.
- honey colored oil is good, coffee colored is bad and means you need to change it soon
- never check oil on a hill
- you can go 3000 miles over your designated amount of miles for an oil change
- bigger engines burn more oil, remember that when you’re making a purchase
Under the hood:
- if your car has trouble getting past 45-50 mph (stalling) then you could have issues with your spark plugs
- dimming headlights? Check your battery you could need a new one, walmart offers free battery checks and free disposals
- clean under the hood please, take a cloth and wipe it all down, hell you can even spray it on a low power setting with the car on, just don’t use soap.
- if you’ve noticed leaking it could be any sort of liquid just keep an eye on how your car is running and what you’ve have to fill up on more recently, and get it checked out asap.
- tuff stuff gets so much dirt and grime out, it can even lift stains. Trust it. I even use it for my house
- seriously you don’t need to take your car in to detail it. It’s a waste of money. Get yourself a car cleaning kit and go nuts.
- a clean car is a happy car and will last longer than one that you leave trash all over in
- buy an emergency kit from Walmart seriously they come with jump cables, first aid, flash light, blah blah blah
- if you get a new set of tires the two news ones go in the back
- put a winter kit in your car this should have a blanket, water, granola bars, and warm clothing
- if you have a truck put a couple things of tube sand in the bed to keep it from sliding to much due to the weight imbalance
- your car has your tire pressure, tire sizes, and other info on your driver side on the frame or on the door
There’s a hut on campus, down by the Mechanical Engineering building. It backs onto the forest, so of course, it’s entirely out of bounds now. It’s old, clearly, but it doesn’t seem to be falling apart in any major way, just crumbled at the edges, although it seems like it’s always been that way.
It’s got stone walls, but a wooden porch, the planks and railing bleached by the sun. Hanging from the rafters are different wind chimes, made of strange, warped pieces of metal. Some of them shine, as though they were polished yesterday, whilst others are brown with rust. When the wind blows, sometimes they clatter loudly, as though they are warning bells, and sure enough, within a day or so, a storm will hit campus, or someone will go missing, one of the cats is found dead, hanging from a doorway, or lamppost.
When the chimes start to clatter and clang, everyone listens. There’s a scrambled for iron jewellery, salt crunches under your feet, people wear clothes inside out, milk and chocolate are outside every door, and everyone is inside before ten, and anyone who isn’t, is gone for the rest of the year.
Sometimes, the wind won’t even have to blow, and the chimes will ring and clang and clatter. It’s only happened twice. The first time, a professor died. Her body was found crumpled at the foot of the staircase leading up to the astronomy classes. She didn’t even teach astronomy. Apparently, the students were told she had been drunk, and had fallen.
However the boy who found her said that her ribs were splayed open, there was blood on the floor, most of her insides missing, her lips drawn back in a snarling smile. There was no blood on the staircase.
The second time, a student was found dead in the boys bathroom on the seventh floor of the physics block. It was by a teacher, so there was no eyewitness account, but the first students to walk into the lab directly below the bathroom on the sixth floor said that there had been blood dripping down slowly from the light fixtures.
No one goes to the bathroom on the seventh floor, and no one stays in the lab on sixth after dark.
When the chimes ring soft and sweet, almost musical, but not quite, the cats flock to the small hut with the bleached porch, and students smile. Money is found in hoodie pockets, lost socks return, and blown light bulbs are replaced. Students and professors alike seem less tired, and tests seem easier.
When the chimes ring, good times come, when they clang, people run.
That was the unofficial motto that was whispered across campus.
The hut also has a garden, a beautiful garden. There’s lavender, and rosemary, parsley, sage and thyme. There are roses, orange, pink, yellow, white, and various shades in between. The stone pathways is made up of smooth white rocks from the river, and they’re always slightly warm to the touch.
There are other plants too. Plants with no names. Plants that glow during the full moon, plants that snake across the lawns at night, and slither home during the day. There’s a plant that mirrors the creepers strangling the library, with four seasons smeared across its leaves. There’s a plant that smells like coffee and chocolate and marshmallows and rainy days. Another that smells burnt, but the nice kind of burnt, like toast.
There are lots of stories about the hut, but only one that everyone talks about. Everyone talks about it, but when you ask someone about it, they forget. Maybe everyone is just in on the joke, but then again, this is Elsewhere University.
Rumors flow like ceruleum through a well-oiled engine amongst the Garleans scattered throughout Eorzea of a neutral area soon to be unveiled: a common ground for Imperials of all stripes to mingle, so long as they abide by the rules of the house. The loyal, the homesick, and the deserter alike are welcome within these walls to partake of both drink and discussion (and perhaps dancing?) as they wish…or so they say. ‘Fort Refreshment’ isn’t exactly a traditional name, but then, if the rumors are true, it’s hardly a traditional castrum, either…
CASTRVM REFICIENDVM – OPENING NIGHT
When – Saturday, Sept. 2nd, 8pm Eastern/5pm Pacific
Where –Balmung Server, Mist 11 Subdivision, Plot 57, in the basement. Southwest Subdivision aetheryte recommended.
What – A demilitarized speakeasy and neutral zone for Garleans of any creed and allegiance to hang out and RP.
Who – Got a Garlean character you’d like to network with? Trade rumors? Find allies or enemies? If you’re Imperial by blood, birth, or beatdown, you’re welcome here. Simply pin two scraps of fabric – one red, one black – to your collar and be civil to the front desk, and you’re in.
How much – All prices on the menu are IC gil only. This is a free event.
The Info – Castrum Reficiendum is Blue Horizon’s first public RP event, and we’re excited to finally be opening our doors to the wider community. From the outside, we appear to be just another shipping company operating out of Mist, but Garlean characters may have heard through contacts, cryptic notes posted about, or the general grapevine that there’s a little more than meets the eye to us…and that is that we’re hiding a fully-stocked bar in the basement for those who miss that black-and-crimson feel, complete with ceruleum lighting, steel surfaces, a sense of order, and Allagan-derived tech (alright, we stuffed some lights into some burnt-out hulls and shined them up…). Oh yeah, and there’s a door prize!
The Rules – Please observe our house rules on the premises, found here. As well, this event is a neutral ground and a speakeasy – it’s not meant to be a venue for violence, raids, ambushes, revenge, infiltration, an opportunity to ‘get the evil Garleans,’ or any other kind of RP-crashing. We realize most characters hate Garlemald, and that many players aren’t fans either. That’s fine! It isn’t an event meant for everyone. Please, however, do not attend if your intent is to grief or incite chaos. Offenders will not be tolerated.
Zootopia / Robin Hood Fanfiction TAKE A STAND epilogue
(AN/ Here we go…the end. Take a Stand had been my most successful fic and that is only possible because of you amazing folks who actually read it reviwed, liked, faved, followed and reblogged this dumb fic, I want to high five all of you for being so awesome. Now I have to thank a few folks who helped illustrate this fic; @ziegelzeig dude you know how much I love your work and your friendship you’re an amazing artist and writer, I love you dude. @fuzzywuzzylittletail you came up with some crackin’ artwork for this fic thank you, shadowed-visitor thank you too for your song/art pieces, @reddoshirousagi06 thank you for your brilliant sketches, @trashasaurusrex@ky-jane@blueberrycarrots@idealbean and everyone else who contributed. Thank you all for reading…so without further ado let’s get cracking with this chapter.)
The smell of engine oil and old wood brought back a host of memories for Judy as she clambered up the ladder to the upper level of one of the many barns at Hopps farm, she used to play cops and robbers with her siblings all the time as a kit but right now the twenty six year old bunny needed a moment to relax in the barn. It had been a very hectic day, as soon as she stepped off the train at Bunnyburrow station it had been a non stop series of hugs, catching up with relatives and being overstuffed with the mountains of food that had been prepared for the massive party had arrived from Zootopia including; herself, Nick, Luna, Marian, Robin, Little John, Jack and Skye.
“He wasn’t just a body to you; it was him or nobody. You barely trusted people, let alone men into your life, and Bodhi had proven himself to be the exception. You couldn’t sleep anymore without him beside you. When he had off-planet trips it felt like gravity was off-center knowing he wasn’t in close proximity. When he was beside you it felt easier to exist. He was all soft, and you were rough edges. You had spent so long convinced that you had helped pull him out of his depression, that you hadn’t considered that maybe his love for you was just a dam, blocking off the flood of unsettling sadness inside of him. You needed him, and maybe he no longer cared if it was you–he just needed someone.”
You’ve been dating for over four years, and sometimes doubts leak through.
(i.e be prepared for that hot triple threat of fluff/angst/smut)
Brand new neighbours au prompt for winteriron, Where Bucky is smitten with Tony but Tony is oblivious, always in a hurry to reach college and complete his work. And can we have a worried Maria Stark who fusses over Tony and teaches Howard a lesson when he acts nonchalant. Steve finds it all very hilarious. Because he just can't get over his best friend's face whenever he talks about Tony. Happy ending.
AN: It took me like, a year, but I finally did it. XD
“Steve.” Only a grunt answered him, so Bucky reached out to give his shoulder a good smack. “Steve.”
“I don’t care.”
“I don’t care, Buck. I don’t care what he’s doing or what he’s wearing or any of that. I have to get this piece done. You can tell me aaaaall about the day in the life of your crush when I finish, okay?”
“But Stevie. He’s trying to do dishes again.” Deadline or no, Steve practically threw his sketchbook away and turned on the couch to kneel next to Bucky. Across the way, easily seen through the big open windows of their neighbor’s kitchen, they could see Tony. Not that they’d ever been introduced - the only reason Bucky knew his name was because he’d heard the guy’s mom say it about twenty times in her lecture on how to be an adult before she’d tearfully left him on his own. The lesson hadn’t stuck apparently, because every time the guy tried to do something even a little domestic, it tended to end in catastrophe.
He had lost power three times that Bucky had noticed - because the lights were usually on all night, so the sudden turning off of ALL of them had been a pretty big hint. Not because he was like, a stalker or a peeping Tom or anything. Anyway. The plumber’s van had been parked outside maybe five times, and the cops had come around seven times because Tony had forgotten to turn off his alarm system after walking into his house. There’d been two nights when Bucky’d woken up because of screeching alarms of approaching firetrucks - each time his heart had pounded with fear until Tony wandered out into the suddenly-bright night looking both irritated and sooty. Bucky didn’t know about the rest of the house, but his view into Tony’s kitchen was really good, and he’d seen the man wander away in the middle of cooking dinner only to run back in an hour later to find it reduced to charcoal. He’d seen the guy sweep half the room before suddenly zipping away, tripping over the dropped broom when he finally wandered back. Tony had flooded the kitchen ten times because he didn’t know how to use the dishwasher properly and seemed to have some sort of moral objection to doing them by hand.
• thanks to this lovely anon you now have mechanic johnny as the next instalment of my mini non-idol au’s!!! whatever you do don’t think about johnny in a sleeveless top working and covered in sweat and engine oil
• also i have no idea how cars work so please bear with me
Lance looked at the faces of the crew. Most of them looked exhausted (Pidge in particular - the squares indented into her cheek told Lance that she’d passed out on her keyboard). Slav was as fidgety as ever, twiddling his many thumbs and muttering under his breath. Kolivan’s face was unreadable - Lance could never tell what that guy was thinking - but even his shoulders were somewhat slumped. He should probably make this quick. Lance cleared his throat, and the room went dead silent. Every eye darted to him. Lance suddenly felt incredibly self-conscious.
“So, um, you’re all probably wondering why Allura called you all here,” he started.
“Well, yeah,” grumbled Pidge. “Where’s the emergency? Also, where’s Keith? He’s usually Mr. Punctuality.”
“There is no emergency,” said Allura. “Lance just has some exciting news to share with the team.” She nodded to him.
“Yeah, that’s right.” Lance took a deep breath. “The Black lion chose me as its new paladin.”
Notes: This is more of a conversation between those who believe in love, those who don’t, and those with their own version of it or those who seem to actually understand it. // My stories never have anything to do with me they’re always 100% fiction, but this time, to any former “lovers” out there, if you read this (which i sincerely hope not because you shouldn’t fucking stalk): i am not sorry. I just never wanted what you wanted.
Walking along the lake as the sun set while holding my
heels in my right hand, and all I could hear was the sound of rippling water
and the lovely birds’ song during the short pauses he and I took while our
mouths gave birth to yet another argument.
“Is this why you brought me
here?” I asked.
Tom looked at the ground, with his hands inside his
pockets as we kept on going forward, but I would’ve been able to sense his
disapproval from a long distance.
“It’s just a wedding”, he muttered with a shrug, “It’s what happens during these events. Why come all the way to the
lake by yourself while everybody else is having fun up there?” He inquired,
nudging his chin in the reception’s direction.
I stopped walking. I couldn’t take it anymore.
“You know exactly what
you’re doing, Thomas”.
He stopped too and met my eyes.
“It’s just a bouquet for
god’s sake! A silly tradition. Who says you’re going to catch it anyway?”
“It’s not the bouquet. It’s
the fact that you actually hope I catch it. That you wanted me to hold your
friend’s baby as soon as we arrived and snap a picture when I’ve told you a
million times I don’t like that. That I agreed to come here and you’re forcing
all these things again”.
“Oh I am well-aware that I
almost had to drag you here, trust me. You didn’t even attend my sister’s
wedding for crying out loud”.
Ok so this is literally my first ever public piece of writing and I’m so proud of it. Its a Otayuri one shot I wrote based on the song Young by The Chainsmokers and yea here it is. It is also illustrated by @iamatrashfan who I’m obsessed with and the art for this song also pushed me to post this so yea… here’s to my fave otp and my first public piece ❤️❤️
The world fell silent in the mist of cigarette smoke. Bodies pressed together in the heat of a rare summer night in Russia. Otabek flew over last week in order to visit before pre-season began. The window of the small room was cracked open for the 12 am breeze as well to let out the smoke of the cigarette being passed back and forth between Yuri and Otabek. It was a long day, Beka took him on a motorcycle ride to visit his grandpa and have dinner. Lila and Yakov were away for some ballet summer camp where they were working at meaning the teen had the apartment to himself. The two of them have been together for quite a while now and could definitely say they had memories to share. Yuri now 18 and Otabek 19 turning 20 they owned every single moment good and bad ranging from bar fights to carnival nights. But neither of them were complaining. Yuri absolutely loved the wind in his continuously growing hair when he gets on the back of Bekas bike and Otabek just loved to be with him. But they’ve had their share of arguments mater of fact they were post-cuddling at this very moment. They got into and argument with Yuras grandfather over how reckless they could be. Yuri and his stubborn attitude clashed with Otabeks calm and collective side and when Yuri let something slip his grandpa was quick to pick up on it. They hashed it out in the backyard until it was dinner time to which they dropped it for at least then. The ride back home was agonizingly silent for Otabek, he had never heard Yuri so silent and it was scaring him a little bit. They parked the bike and returned to the apartment building. Things were said and Yuri laid hands on Otabek but as soon as he pushed he was immediately snapped out of his rage. They apologized to eachother and decided to make it back to the room, both exhausted from yelling and arguing. “You know something Beks? I hate arguing with you. It sucks and I hate it. Period.” The cigarette now put out in the ashtray on the bed stand. Potya silently made her way on the bed and squished herself between the two of them purring sleepily Otabek as of instinct began to pet her. “It’s not easy to stop the argument when you let your temper take over. Its hard to talk to you especially when you begin to yell.” Yuri scoffed but knew he was right. He tended to lose any sense when we was angry know all to well when it came with Viktor and his stupid fiancé. “Yea yea I said I was sorry. Anyways you tend to get me angry every time you just stand there with that sane face and calm voice when we’re obviously arguing.” Otabek sighed, “Well one of us has to be rational in order to keep the peace in the end.” With the cigarette now put out he was able to take the opportunity to snuggle up closer to his boyfriend, basking in the scent of him. It was a mix of cologne, cigarettes, and engine oil due to the fact he works on his second bike every day, his goal to get it up and running eventually. “ Besides I like to think we grow from every argument we have.” Yuri groaned and placed his arms under his head so he can still lay on him but also be able to see his face. “Ugh here we go with your words of wisdom.” Otabek slightly chuckled. Yuri was not one of mottos and sayings but he knew what he meant by it and still listened. “What? I’m just saying that everyday we learn a little bit more than the day before it. Yura we’re still young meaning we have lots of time to figure things out.” He knew Otabek had a point, and to be frank he was pretty sure he heard something like this from Lila. “Yes and it’s one of the reasons you tend to take things slow. It took me ages for you to let me kiss you.” “Yea well I just wanna enjoy things while we can you know?” And he did know. Otabek was a man of many words when it came to the moments he shared only with him. Yuri tended to rush things but was always down for whatever Beka was comfortable with, not wanting to scare the boy away. It was safe to say they were still figuring things out, they could debate for hours on end about their own opinions, but there was always a meeting point where things just made sense. “I know what you mean but sometimes taking a chance could be worth it. I took a chance with you.” “Hmph more like you took a chance and got lucky. Beggars can’t be choosy.” Yuri laughed and hit him. “Shut up with your inspirational quotes. Just kiss me damn it.” And just that he did. Their lips met in a slow paced kiss sealing the forgotten words and punches from the day tight and away. If only they could stay this young forever.
“You okay? You’re trembling.” “Of course I’m trembling, I’m freezing.” (I mean, if that’s what you want to call it)
You could understand why the resistance moves to Hoth. It’s
a bold move – moving to somewhere so inhospitable just to throw the empire off
your tail. It’s smart, and at the same time, kriffing stupid.
The engineers are always on the landing strips, scraping ice
off of the Wings and defrosting their engines because the damn oil keeps
freezing. You’re out there with them, helping wherever you can. Everyone is
bundled up in layers and layers of clothes, wearing thick jackets with fur
accents to try and keep the cold out. You’ve been on cold planets before for
the sake of missions, but Hoth is another type of cold. It’s the kind of cold
that settles in your bones, a constant shiver that wrings through your body
when you’re not moving.
You hope down on to the snow-covered landing strip, happy
that most of the ice has been taken from the last of the squad’s Wings. One of
the pilots claps a hand to your shoulder in thanks.
Plot: When an annoying meme comes back from the dead, it’s nice to have people - specifically a slightly obnoxious robotic boyfriend - by your side.
((Sorry about the stupid title, lol. But yeah, I’m not hugely into the Radmond ship personally, but at the same time I think it’s pretty cute and I’ve had this idea for a while so, why not write it? Anyway, enjoy!))