Young Arataka Reigen is a promising competitive figure skater, but he has one flaw : his skating style is not Beautiful. Reigen debuts in a time where judges critique routines mostly on technique, and how elegant it is. He does not take this criticism well, often getting into tiffs with coaches about what should be ‘the focus’ of his performances. Cue Misty’s idea of him pushing too hard, trying too much, which results in an accident which breaks his leg and his career early.
Fast forward: Reigen coaches an up-and-coming figure skater Shigeo Kageyama. Times have changed, and judges are more receptive to emotionally driven skating in a modern audience. Plot twist : Reigen’s still teaching Mob how to deal with his emotions in this au, this time via finding Mob’s own style of skating. Reigen’s crazy-out-there-what-the-fuck-are-you-doing skate style helps Mob open up and experiment with his own.
Does Virus!Phil have similarities to Flowey from Undertale?
I think Flowey has bad intentions towards humans because he is angry and sad for what Frisk did to him (more like vengeance and grudge) I guess virus!phil is more lost and confused than angry. He doesn’t know what happened and whats going on so he seeks the find his “purpose” again but with doing that he causing trouble and he does it in a way where he doesn’t know what is “good” and “bad”
So, I was in the mood for this fic, especially on Friday, even though Saturday went a long way towards cheering me up. Meanwhile, I made significant progress on the second installment and hope for an update this week. This was written for my friend, @thegirlfromoverthepond .
After, he asked, “Are you happy that I’m here?”
“Yes,” I said, listening at the powerful heartbeat beneath my ear. It was as real as the breath that filled and escaped my lungs.
“You are the string that holds me here,” he said quietly, the tips of his fingers gliding over my skin.
I turned my head up to look at him. “Then I’ll make sure to never let go.”
We find our heroes at the Louvre, staring at a famous art piece…
Marinette: What do you think it means?
Adrien: *staring at her profile, completely smitten* I don’t know… *reaching for her hand* but if I had to hazard a guess, it would be something about chances, and how we should… take them… *his finger juuuust brushes hers*
Students: *AH-HEM* We’re over here?
Adrien: *girly scream*
Category: I almost think I don’t need to put anything here anymore because I write angst and fluff 99.999999% of the time.
Word Count: 734
A/N: Here’s another request. They asked for this fic to be gender fluid, so I did my best. I hope I did a good job. As usual, please let us know if you have any feedback! Also, REQUESTS ARE OPEN!
Request: hi! could I request a peter parker x reader college au where the reader failed two of their classes and they feel like an idiot, so peter comforts them? (and if possible, could you write the reader as genderfluid/or using they/them pronouns? if not, she/her is fine I guess) -anonymous
You felt the anger, shock, and despair overflow inside you as you stared at your computer screen. Not one, but two failures. Two!! You felt tears drop past your eyelids in heavy and hot pods. You wanted to scream. You spent hours studying. Hours! You gave up your plans to go to the mall with your friends to study. You gave up watching your favorite Netflix show to study. You gave up your entire social life to study. And you failed. To make matters worse, you had the cutest dork in the entire world try to help you understand the material. He couldn’t help you. You failed two of your classes. These weren’t high school classes you could just retake either. You had to pay hundreds to take them, plus an absurd amount of fees that no one really knew why you had to pay. You growled and choked on a sob, burying your face in your hands. Your emotions got the best of you and you screamed, howling like a wounded animal. You failed.
You were so busy sobbing your life away that you didn’t hear the gentle tap on your dorm window. You were hunched on your dorm floor, your laptop resting on your shaking legs as you sobbed heavily and loudly. You didn’t hear your dorm window gently creak open. You didn’t hear someone slip through the open window and close it. You didn’t notice anything except your anger and disappointment until you felt something brush your arm. You gasped and swatted at the thing, instinctively crawling away a little bit. You looked at what touched you. It was a boy with thick brown wavy hair, big doe eyes, and pink lips. He was sitting next to you and wore a t-shirt with the imaginary number sign and the symbol for pi. The imaginary number sign had a speech bubble that said “get rational!” to the pi sign. The pi sign said, “get real!”.
“I just wanted to spread hope to the world, to fix the mistakes that have set this world into grave desperation. Even if it meant to rewrite the human heart. No different from being a Dictator, right? I guess we are one in the same afterall.”
(Credits to @ultimatehopebagel for this WONDERFUL piece. I didn’t expect the kind gesture, tbh. Thank you again.)
Word count: 1786 Summary: You’re bored and procrastinate and decide to chat with Philip Hamilton. Stuff happens. (I’m really getting better at Summary, right?)
Pairing: Philip x Reader
Au: High School
Warnings: Lot of cussing. I guess. Thats it
Note: It’s verry fluffy. Also, yes, i still haven’t posted Maybe that’S the problem, but I didn’t want to shit something out. So yeah. tomorrow. It will be worth it, I swear. Also i really like this one and i hope you enjoy it too? (Why do i always write Philip?)
A sigh escaped your lips.
You didn’t even bother to look at your alarm clock, because you knew it was almost midnight and yet you were still awake. Running your hand through your dishevelled hair, you attempted to think of another sentence you could add to the powerpoint you were working on, but your mind had other ideas. There was just no way in hell you could form grammatically correct texts that also made sense after downing the fourth coffee on that day. Or Night. Of course, you could’ve noticed that sooner, but well, no need to worry. You were way too motivated on the topic of procrastination that you could care about your project. Besides, it was only missing a few finishing touches, or at least you thought so. So without further thinking, you slammed your laptop shut and grabbed your phone. Who could you write and who would possibly be online?
Some notes for future chapters that I’ve made for Mine/the possessive!fae Robbie au partially with the help of @saintdiabolus who is great and deserves love
-Yo what if Stingy’s allergic to iron bcz looooong ago fae descendent
-Robbie literally cannot eat lots of healthy stuff. Sportacus is Concern and Confusion.
-Glanni is his waaayyyy older brother who is full blooded fae (of some sort idk) meanwhile Robbie’s somewhat half human, human parent was not entirely human
-Ppl make Deals/deals with Robbie a lot and Sportacus is Concern™
-Stingy really looks up to Robbie and tries to emulate him. Robbie is Confuse. Did not mean to adopt son.
-Never mind, son is His now
-Pixel gets a virus on his computer and Robbie fixes it/makes magical antivirus in exchange for some coding lessons bcz he’s better at building than coding
-Robbie and Bessie are Gossip Besties who go get pedicures done and bitch at each other on Sundays (she gets bits of juicy Only Fae Could Know info while she pays for the day out)
-Robbie gets candy from Ziggy to help him with homework
-Robbie ‘grades’ Trixie’s mischief levels and occasionally lets her live at his place when her parents are too much, usually for favors and her pulling a few pranks on his behalf
-Robbie ended up in LazyTown bcz Glanni was there and doesn’t realize he’s Really growing to like the place until he unintentionally Claims it
-Sportacus finds out he has back pains and is worried
-Common deal the kids make is to go with Robbie when he goes grocery shopping and do all the moving stuff around for him, including putting it away. He then makes them sweets afterwards and they all chill together
-Stingy doesn’t tell the others that he’s descended from fae so they don’t get why he’s so weirdly possessive
-Robbie doesn’t like HAVE to make deals/Deals all the time but it’s his comfort thing and helps him feel more at ease bcz he knows exactly what to expect, though some situations absolutely demand that he make a Deal, such as when he needed to make sure Sportacus would Swear he meant LazyTown no harm
Steve should’ve guessed that the odds weren’t in his favour after betting over who would drink a whole bottle of beer first. Sam had downed it all in less than 10 seconds, while he was not even half way through. God, he detested alcohol. He was far too athletic to fancy it. Besides, he always believed he could have fun without consuming alcohol, as long as he was in the right company of friends.
Steve lost the bet. Steve had to take up the consequences.
Steve is getting a tattoo.
(Prompt on tumblr: Hey bae, i got a Stucky prompt for you! So, if you’d like to, maybe you could write an AU with a tattoo artist Bucky and a shy handsome stranger (*cough* Steve*cough*) coming in for his first tattoo that he’s really nervous about?)
i’m obsessed with a food blogger who writes about cheap ways to be gourmet in your 20s and i flirt with them over comments but they never post pictures of their face and ALSO there’s a really cute grocery bagger at the store down the street who teases me and always asks to join me for dinner and i definitely want to say yes AU
“Beef bourguignonne?” the bagger guessed.
Sansa looked at him in some surprise. “Yeah, how’d you know?”
“I’ve tried it a time or two. You should have me over so I can help you make it,” he said with his customary smile.
Sansa smiled back. Once or twice a week she went to the grocery store and loaded up with ingredients to make a recipe from her favorite food blog, and every time she did the same grocery bagger asked about what she was making and told her she should have him over. Sansa was honestly tempted–he was cute, and he clearly knew his food.
“Okay,” she said, wiping the teasing smile off his face. “Come to mine around six. I live in the red building around the corner. 5B.” With a smug look, she took her bags from him and sauntered out of the store.
She was pleased when he did show up at her place, his black polo shirt and khaki pants replaced with blue jeans and a grey t-shirt. He looked somewhat abashed, but Sansa handed him a glass of red wine and set him to chopping the onions. “All right,” she said, “It says here to add–”
“Cognac, then ignite with a match and stand back,” he finished.
Sansa looked at the recipe. “Yeah, how did you…?”
He took the Cognac from the counter, poured it in the pan, and then lit with a match and stood back. He knew what he was doing. When he looked at Sansa, her mouth fell open. “You’re Jon.”
“I sure am,” he said cheerfully, finishing up. “I realized after a while that it wasn’t coincidence that you kept getting ingredients to the recipes I was putting on my blog. Then I saw your profile picture and realized it was you.”
“And you never said anything!” she accused.
“I was waiting for you to invite me over to dinner,” he said cheekily. He covered the pot and turned to look at her. “Well, we have an hour and fifteen minutes to kill.”
Sansa smiled. “Whatever will we do in the meantime?”
“I have some ideas.” And he leaned forward and kissed her.
Would it be okay to ask for a JayDick buddy cop au? :x
Anything for you whippy <3
This is lightly based off the challenge from B99.
“Guess who just solved the Richardson case?” Jason swaggered into the conference room, file in his hand. He tossed it down on the table, going up to the white board at the front of the room and replacing the 90 written under his last name to a 91.
Dick’s arms were crossed, pretending to be pissed. “Awesome,” he said. “While you were working on that, I took care of the Deliccui case, the Boyardo case, the Montoya case, and the missing puppy case.” Dick pulled the files out of his bag along with a newspaper. His smiling face was on on front page, holding a little girl and her lost puppy.
A few of the people in the room whooped and some “oohed” at them. Dick walked up to the front of the room, plucked the marker out of Jason’s hand and replaced the 90 under his own last name with a 94.
“Better get ready,” Dick said as he set the marker down. “I hear your speech writing skills could use some work.”
“Don’t put your suit up just yet, Grayson,” Jason replied. “This bet isn’t over until one of us hits one hundred.”