hands in the pockets

So I was thinking about how Dirk so masterfully concealed the Everbulb and the lever from Patrick Spring in his jacket and I began to picture Dirk Gently going through a security check and pulling out random weapons and objects to place on the table and awkwardly giving a half-sentence explanation for each one.

“Yes, well, that was for the, the thing and… Ah yes, now that- *nervous chuckle* That is used in the event that… Oh, I’d forgotten that was in there! Ah, I can explain this…”

And by the end of the whole thing, there would be a pile of motley items on the table and looking at it would make anyone question how on earth so many oddly-shaped objects (is that a scimitar??) could possibly be carried so secretly and easily by this tall, thin young man standing innocently with his hands in his pockets and a wide-eyed look that says, “Is there a problem, officers?”

WIP Wednesday

Here we go, it’s been a looong time since I posted something from the San Junipero AU. It’s still coming. Slow but sure. Or maybe just slow.

“Yuuko told me that you’re here almost every night,” Viktor says, hands in his coat pockets as he approaches the boards. Yuuri looks down to straighten his glove; Makkachin scales the bleachers again. “Nobody else is ever here?”

“I’m not sure many other people know it’s here,” Yuuri says softly, still looking at his gloves. “I, um, think I might have made this place? Accidentally? And there’s a bigger rink further into town, where I think people play hockey. You’re the first person I’ve ever—ever seen here, aside from me.” He turns and drifts away, skates gliding almost soundlessly along the ice. “It looks just like the rink I skated at in my childhood, you see. Before I moved to America to pursue my career.”

“Is that where you are now?” Viktor asks, skates forming on his feet as he steps onto the ice. “America?”

“No,” Yuuri says, but doesn’t elaborate.

“They must be more lax about their regulations on the system, wherever you are,” Viktor says, desperately trying to get Yuuri to tell him something, anything about himself. “Most visitors are only allowed on once a week, were I’m from. Any more than that and they start worrying about your ability to tell what’s real and what isn’t. Dissociating. That sort of thing.”

“That’s not…really a problem for me,” Yuuri says softly. “I don’t really have anything to confuse it with. When I’m not here, I'm…not anywhere.”

That close to death? Viktor wants to ask, but knows that some people are sensitive about that topic. Viktor is one of them.

Yuuri turns around and skates backwards as Viktor continues forwards. He tilts his head to the side and asks Viktor, “Do you remember any of your old routines?”

Viktor grins. “Darling, I remember every routine I’ve ever choreographed.” He taps his head. “I may not be much to look at nowadays, but my brain—that’s a steel trap.” For figure skating, anyway. He thinks he may have broken every promise he’d ever made to another human, but he’s never forgotten a single step sequence.

“You seem like plenty to look at to me,” Yuuri says softly. There is a blushing tenderness to his expression as he narrows his stride for Viktor to close in, the two of them now moving carefully within each other’s space. Viktor never skated with a partner, and his only experience with tandem skating was teaching students their routines, but he imagines that this is similar to what ice dancers feel. Tuning your body in to the fine frequencies of another person, reading the subtle movements of their muscles to decode how you, yourself, should move. Yuuri settles into a glide, pushes his hair behind his ear and asks, “Would you show me?”

“One of my old routines?” Viktor asks.

“Yes.”

Viktor considers this. There are hundreds to choose from; after retiring he’d made his living coaching and choreographing several consecutive generations of figure skaters. He took over Yakov’s roster after his heart attack and then, after the man died and Viktor discovered he had been left everything, moved into Yakov’s house and built on a dormitory-style addition that could house ten students. Young skaters came from the world over to attend his ‘school.’ In the mornings, they got up before dawn and went straight to the rink. In the evenings, Viktor sat at the large dining room table with books, pens, pencils, laptops, tablets and ten students and made sure they were training their minds as surely as their bodies. It was a winning strategy; at one point, he had a National Champion from every continent on his roster.

Of course, he got old. He reached a point where teaching choreography was an impossibility, and like Yakov before him was forced to hand over the reins. But his love for the sport and for his art, the things he could express with his body and a pair of skates, never left him.

“Alright,” Viktor says. “I think I have one.”

Yuuri skates eagerly to the boards, which he lifts himself onto easily, skates thumping and leaving no mark. Viktor used to yell at his students for such a thing; but then, it’s not as if Yuuri can hurt himself if he falls backwards.

Viktor skates out to the middle of the rink. Around him, the lights dim as he breathes deep. The opening strains of a song barely remembered start quiet on the speaker system; Viktor wasn’t sure that there would be enough of it left in his mind for it to play, but it does. When he hears it, it’s like a reflex; his body still remembers this routine after so many years. It was a crowd favorite; his free skate for one of his last seasons and his gala skate from then until the day he retired. He thinks it had something to do with the sweeping, grand sound of the tenor’s voice, singing a song that anyone could understand even with no Italian in their vocabulary.

What he never told anyone was that for some reason, one day, he sat down and choreographed a pairs routine to the duetto reprisal from later in the opera. It was an idle thing, probably something he did just to see if he could. It’s one of those routines that has rattled around in his head, unused, for decades. He’d never coached a pairs team. He’d never had a reason to use it.

For some reason, as he performs this routine in front of a beautiful man in a world that doesn’t exist, it’s the only thing on his mind.

Stammi vicino, non te ne andare…

When he finally comes to a stop, arms folded over his chest and panting at the ceiling, lungs aching from the exertion—and isn’t that odd? That lungs can hurt in a place like this—he realizes that he only has five minutes left.

Yuuri is skating over to him, blades quick on the ice. Viktor looks to him, and sees a still-wet tear stain on both cheeks.

“That was beautiful,” Yuuri says softly, once he’s within earshot. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Now I know why you were so famous.”

Viktor hums out a laugh and reaches out a hand to Yuuri’s cheek, thumbs away the wetness there. Yuuri’s breath stutters and Viktor murmurs, “I’m sorry it made you so sad.”

“Not sad,” Yuuri whispers. “Just…emotional. I cry when I’m emotional, it’s something I’ve always done. I’m not sure why.” He reaches up his own gloved thumb to swipe away the other tear. Viktor feels somehow cheated; he wanted to wipe away that one, too. “What does it say? The song? It’s about love, right?”

“All the best songs are,” Viktor chuckles. Three minutes left. He drops his hand from Yuuri’s face and slides a little closer, until he has to consciously tip his head down to meet Yuuri’s eyes. “Stay close to me, never let me go.”

Yuuri’s eyes go wide, his breath hitching. A delicate and beautiful blush rises onto his cheeks.

“That’s what the song says.”

it's just you and i tonight (why don’t you figure my heart out)

part 2/? (part 1)

Lena is cold. She actually hasn’t stopped shivering since they set their feet outside.

Perhaps agreeing to take a walk with her alien girlfriend, incapable of feeling the cold, during a windy night in the middle of winter wasn’t such a good idea, but Lena is fairly sure there isn’t anyone capable of resisting the blonde’s pout and hopeful eyes.

She stuffs her hands deeper inside her coat’s pockets when she shivers again. She thinks about how warm Kara is and considers asking to share her coat with her, but soon gives up on that idea.

And it’s not that Lena is too proud to ask. It isn’t even the fact she would feel ashamed if she did, because she knows Kara would never judge her or make fun of her - even if it might be perceived as weakness, as vulnerability, and it goes against everything being a Luthor is.

So no, it isn’t the fact that she’s too proud to ask. It’s just that she isn’t used to being allowed to ask, doesn’t know how to ask.

Beside her, Kara continues to gesticulate wildly as she rambles about the inconvenience that is Snapper - not necessarily in those words.

She bits down on her lip to stop herself from smiling, not wanting Kara to think she’s amused with how annoyed she seems, but it’s hard when the blonde looks so adorable.

“… then he told me to go fetch a coffee and let the real reporters work! Can you believe that?” Kara says. She huffs in annoyance, pushing her glasses further up her nose.

“If you’d just let me buy CatCo so I could fire him,” Lena says, shivering again because of the cold night air. “you wouldn’t be having this problem.”

“Lena no. We’ve talked about this, you’re not buying CatCo.” Kara says as firmly as possible, trying in vain to hide how amused that makes her. Then she frowns and comes a bit closer to Lena, putting her hand on the brunette’s arm. “Are you okay? You’ve been shivering all night.”

“I’m fine.” Lena says, perhaps a bit too quickly, for she shivers again not long after.

Kara stares at her for a moment, head cocked to the side, before she nods to herself. She then starts shivering, perhaps a bit too exaggeratedly, and rubbing her hands along her own arms.

“Kara?”

“It’s so cold out today, Lee.” She shivers again, her teeth starting to chatter soon after.

Lena grins despite herself, feeling like she’s going to burst from how much she loves her girlfriend.

“Let’s share my coat then, since you’re so cold.”

mylittlefujoshi  asked:

Glad to see ur ask box is open again! This is the first time im doin this but may a request a scenario of Ranmaru and his s/o doin the dirty deed while at work ( อก° อœส– อก°)?

Sorry if this was not what you expected, but I had to stop myself before it became too long. Possible part 2?

Visiting Ranmaru at work (NSFW)

Sighing out irritability, It was times like these when Ranmaru wish he was home. Meetings like these never really established anything, only consisting of Camus and Reiji arguing while Ai sitting there stoically. Resting his head in his hand, he felt his phone vibrate in his pants pocket. Really, he was thankful for the interruption. Using anything at this point to distract himself from the uneventful meeting, courtesy of Shining Satome. When he unlocked his phone, he noticed if was from his long term girlfriend. Tapping on the message curiously, he blushed immediately on the spot. Although, it was times like these when he loved having you as a girlfriend. In the risque text message, a simple sentence accompanied with a dirty photo. He hid his phone under his table, no way his fellow band members would get to see your beautiful body on display for him! He stared at the photo on the screen, God how lovey you looked in that position for him. After sending flirty text messages back and forth, it was decided you would visit him where the meeting was being held, which so happen to be a hotel. Grinning to himself smugly, Ranmaru decided to rent a hotel room for privacy of the reunion about to happen. After texting you the room number, he waiting only a couple minutes before a soft knock heard on the door. Immediately upon opening, he did not even give you time to say anything before claiming your lips with his and pulling you into the room eagerly. Really, you were his weakness. You always left him hungry for more of your touch, your everything. As the kiss began to heat up, you both eventually made it to the bed where he immediately pinned you down onto the bed. He relished in the delicious moans that left your mouth, wanting to pull out more in a symphony while saying his name. He let out a growl as he felt your leg brush across his clothed crotch with an obvious bulge, waiting for a release from the restricting pants. Finding that special spot on your neck, he wasted no time in biting down harshly on your supple skin, earning an exquisite sound from your mouth. His large colossaled hands found the hem of your pants and began to pull it down while sucking on your skin, determined to mark you as his. Really, what did you expect when you sent those risky photos? Now it was time for you to pay for your actions. 

The bitter end

Very, very cold on the volcanic plateau last weekend. I took this shot through a little window, but the rest of the observation car at the end of the train had no windows. I wanted to take photos but my hands got so cold I was afraid I’d drop my camera (or worse, my phone, which I switched to as the camera battery got low) into a ravine or something less dramatic like a frozen ditch. So most of the snowy shots that follow were taken in the open air. Of course they are not as good as the ones I missed when I just had to thaw my hands in my pockets;)

anonymous asked:

(Not dating.) R is a mechanic and often gets dirty on the job. One day, Kara visits R at work and is all flustered, because R is really hot in only a tank top and jeans, covered in the grime and metal shavings that come from working in a garage. "Oh! You brought me lunch!" *floundering for response* "Let me get cleaned up, then I'll eat."

Originally posted by commanderleksakomtrikru

“Kara?” You slide out from underneath the Jeep you were working on upon hearing the familiar voice and sit up.  “Hey!  What’re you doing here?”

The undercover superhero falters for a second, overwhelmed by the sight of you in the grease-covered tank top and jeans you’re wearing.  She searches for her voice as you wipe your hands on an old rag from your back pocket.

“I, uh, picked this up,” she holds the brown paper bag in her hand up and stammers a bit.  “Is your break soon?”

“Oh, you brought me lunch!  I can clock out right now.”

Kara watches, mouth hanging open a little, as you get to your feet and toss the wrench in your hand into a nearby toolbox.

“Let me get cleaned up so we can eat.”

assorted bnha hcs 1/?

-bakugo is really sweaty all the time and keeps his hands in his pockets one to uphold his look and two bc he doesn’t want to have to shake someone’s hand and deal w people screaming about how gross he is

-kirishima is an extremely sympathetic boy and will literally feel enough for any parties involved (I saw somewhere an hc of him being a sympathetic crier and agree 666%)

-todoroki really likes animals, usually like cats and little snakes so maybe he learns sign language in order to better communicate w Kouda so they can talk about animals

-aizawa has to take sleeping pills in order to fall asleep bc his mind goes into overdrive but this is only when he’s sure there’s no threat (which happens rarely tbh)

-present mic is bi

-tsuyu is totally lesbian

-midoriya has a bunch of motivational all might quotes and video clips saved to his camera roll for when he needs that morale boost

anonymous asked:

I love the regan fandom y'all are the best people and make me smile and i love that you guys have the headcanon that rick can't cook for shit yet seems to eats lots and hoards food lmao. what are some other headcanons you have? or your faves?

Ohhhh boy lotsa headcanons! Some collective ones I’ve seen rolling around the fandom that are great:

  • Negan can cook really well
  • Rick has terrible taste in music
  • Negan gets sick on rollercoasters but Rick loves them
  • Rick loves plants and gardening
  • Negan likes to slip his hands into the back pockets of Rick’s jeans
  • Rick and Negan sing loud and off-key on car trips
  • (Should the terrible scalie/furry meta be on here or??)
  • Negan loves cats
  • Negan likes cryptids/believes in aliens
  • Negan is constantly taking pictures of Rick doing random things because he thinks his boyfriend is cute (’cause he is)
  • Rick has a flip phone/is terrible with technology

Some headcanons I personally have:

  • Negan was in a garage band in high school
  • Negan wears glass and Rick REALLY likes said glasses
  • Rick can actually sing pretty well, but is shy/awkward about it so he sings off-key on purpose
  • Negan likes to read and always has a book he’s reading
  • Rick’s favorite ice cream is mint chocolate chip (idk why he just really seems like a mint chocolate chip guy to me. He likes it more if it’s the kind that’s green.)