i like to write that


Minnow’s Ex-Boyfriends.

Nathan was Minnow’s high school boyfriend back home. He plays guitar pretty good and likes video games. He can be kinda clingy, though. Shortly after graduating, Minnow told him she wants to be a freelance space engineer, and he got angry, so she dumped him.

He works at his dad’s bowling alley now. He sells his CDs there too, near the fire exit.

Djynn (that’s his codename) was Minnow’s first boyfriend after she went to space. He’s a freelance hacker who gets hired for badass space missions. He’s a cool dude, but his schedule never matches hers, and they both fly around the galaxy a lot, so they’re usually far away from each other. He’s also an organic being, which means he can’t teleport to her ship. Their relationship ended up just being occasional chats online, so one day they decided they could do that as friends.

He’s currently still a freelance hacker who gets hired for badass space missions.


It starts with a bar of soap.

For God’s sake, Kent thinks to himself in the “personal care” section of the grocery store. Why does Dove think I’m allergic to purple just because I’m a guy?

He picks up the lavender-scented bar soap and inhales. It smells heavenly. Next he tries the sandalwood-scented from the men’s section. It comes in a gray box and costs fifty cents less. It smells good but it reminds him of floor polish.

I’m a grown-ass man, Kent thinks, and buys the lavender soap.

The next time he’s out of body wash, he spends thirty minutes trying to decide on one of the many “manly” smells before caving to “Cocoa Cabana” in the women’s aisle because it smells like Valentines Day in a bottle. 

After that it’s his deodorant body spray, trading in “Bold” (whatever the fuck boldness smells like) for “Fresh Cotton.” 

The first time Jeff catches a whiff of it on him, he asks, “New fabric softener? It smells awesome.”

“Nah, switched deodorants.”

“Huh.” Jeff nods in approval. “Well, you smell like fresh blankets out of the dryer. I have a physical urge to hug you.”

Kent laughs. Jeff hugs him and he laughs more. It’s nice.

After five months, nearly every toiletry Kent owns has been switched over from an endless variety of blacks, grays, and occasional dark greens and blues to white, purple, soft brown, yellow, and pink. Showers have transformed from a perfunctory necessity to something luxurious. Women’s products are so indulgent. They make Kent feel and smell like he’s been at a spa. He does have to learn to juggle the fragrances appropriately or risk smelling like a perfume store vomited on him. But it’s worth it, for how good he feels after. He feels pampered. His skin is softer, his hair shines, and even his pits and crotch look and feel cleaner. He doesn’t know if it’s the products or because he really cares about the maintenance, now, since he’s got all these specialty items to try. It doesn’t matter. He feels great.

Kent now has honest-to-God bubble baths and detox-salt-soaks. He’s got body butters and face masks and a lip balm in almost every flavor. The ladies at the Lush at the mall know him by name.

Kent’s still single. He’s got his cat for company, though, and the guys, who drop by or come over for movie and game nights and get drunk and eat all his food and pretend to chirp him for the specialty lemongrass-scented hand soap in his bathroom. Sometimes, on roadies, Swoops will plop down next to him on a bus or a plane and say loudly, “Damn, who’s got chocolate and isn’t sharing? Oh, it’s just Parser. Fuck you for getting my hopes up,” and then he’ll noogie Kent or grab his fingers and gnaw on them.

(The coaches have had to break them up before and it’s very unbecoming of two adult men.)

More than once, one of the guys has fallen asleep next to Kent and ended up face-first in Kent’s shoulder. They’ll wake up blearily, rubbing their eyes and saying, “Whoops, sorry man, didn’t mean to drool on you.” Kent was confused at first but he’s realizing that it’s because they gravitate towards the scent of him in their sleep. He smells like comforting things: honey and chocolate and cotton and Shea. He smells like warmth and safety. It’s why he likes all the things he buys, so it makes sense the guys would like that, too.

Nobody rags on him for it. They chirp him, but that’s different. Chirping, light-hearted and giggly, means acceptance. Soon his teammates start coming up to him in the locker room or nudging him on a bus and saying, “Parser, can I borrow some of your stuff?” and leaving with key-lime lips or cocoa-butter hands.

But it’s when he catches Sunny—big, burly, greatly-bearded d-man Sunny—pulling a bright orange tube of passion fruit lip balm out of his bag and slicking it on in front of everyone that he knows for sure that it’s okay.

Ok ok but Phichit and Yuuri probably tried to pair skate like total dorks back in Detroit.

The two being overly dramatic when arias are played, Phichit (trying) to lift Yuuri and only somewhat succeeding because Yuuri is pretending to die in his arms. Doing the entire single ladies routine on ice. Phichit holding ridiculous poses as Yuuri spins him around. Yuuri lifting Phichit up, Phichit holding his arms out wide and yelling “never let go jack!!!!!”. Doing a full on tango with a rose in Phichit’s mouth. Giggling as they fall on each other on the ice

12x13 Coda

Sam doesn’t eat burgers. 

Dean does. Anyone they’ve ever come across knows how much Dean likes to down a double cheeseburger with extra onions but Sam prefers wraps or salads. He likes beer but prefers to drink lite brands and Dean’s the only one who drinks IPA, yet the three letter packaging is staring back at him on the table. 

Dean’s opened up the fast food bag and with the wrappers pulled out he can see the order receipts on the food. Three burgers with no lettuce, extra onion, extra bacon, and extra cheese just how Mom and Dean like them. 

John Winchester had his flaws but he knew better than anyone that Sam and Dean had different tastes. He’s pretty sure Mary think they’re the same person half the time. 

Except that isn’t right either because if they were the same person then wouldn’t Mary text both of them? Want to share jokes and grin and blast her music for both of them to hear? Play Scrabble and share stories about the Impala with both of them? 

She doesn’t. Because Sam’s not the same person, he’s an addition to the person Mary already had. 

And of course it makes sense why would she want to spend time with him? She doesn’t know him like she knows Dean. He doesn’t know anything about cars so how can he join them when they sit for hours in the garage talking about the Impala? He likes Dean’s music but because it’s an extension of Dean and their childhood, not enough to talk about the band members and the year of the album releases like the two of them do in the car while he sits quietly in the back. He doesn’t like beef jerky or blasted music or even pie that much. 

Sam wouldn’t want to hang out with himself either. 

But the best part of the entire situation is Dean’s still so untrusting of her, so tentative in allowing her in after she left that it’s suddenly up to him to bridge the gap between them. Of course he does it too because Dean had been peace maker for Sam and John so how can he deny his brother this? How could he not jump at the chance of making what was left of their family whole? 

He thinks he might have screwed up somewhere along the way. He must have. Because Dean and Mary are made from the same cloth and they’re happy enough to be together despite Dean’s digs but Sam can’t even find the breath to ask his mother how she’s doing anymore after the Demon Prince.

Since when is life about getting what you want? 

He knows that well. Kinda like wanting to meet your dead mother only to have her show up and not give a shit about you. 

So he stares at the beer and doesn’t touch the burgers as Mary explains that she’s been teaming up with the British Men of Letters and it’s been awhile since he’s felt this empty. He knew he wasn’t exactly high on her list of priorities but she’s not even looking at him as she says it. 

She’s looking at Dean. 

“We have a history with them-” He tries to get out but she’s quick to shut him down, the cutting way she say’s his name making his breath catch in his throat. 

He’s told it was a hard decision. He gets the feeling it really wasn’t. 

He feels five years old again, scrambling for their Dad’s attention while he taught Dean how to shoot a gun, eyes never leaving Dean’s hands despite how many groans of boredom Sam made. So he tells her, reminds her that he was cruelly burned and broken despite how disgusting the words taste on his tongue. He want’s to forget and heal, not have to use the experience to beg his mother to reconsider teaming up with his torturers. 

Since when is life about getting what you want?

She’s preaching about family and while that might work with Dean it doesn’t with Sam and he abruptly stands. “My family,” He says evenly, holding eye contact with Mary despite how she keeps flickering to look at Dean. “is made up of one person I can trust.” 

It’s clear what he’s saying and Mary flounders, obviously looking for an angle to argue as Sam watches on, the empty feeling taking some satisfaction from how surprised she looks. She didn’t think he’d take a stand and she was wrong. 

“Sam,” She says again, leaving the malice out of her tone this time. “I want us to be a family, they can help us make a bigger difference. We can all be working together if you’d just listen for five minutes.” She smiles, eyes soft and face open as she looks at him. It’s a decent poker face but he still see’s the cracks of defensiveness and irritation that she even has to explain herself. 

He nods in understanding, knowing she thinks he’s the empathetic one and lets her have a moment to believe that he’s going to be settled by her weak bargaining. “But Mom,” He starts. “Since when is life about getting what you want?” 

He leaves her there to think on it as he walks out of the room, dumping the bag of burgers in the trash by the door. 

For @abloodneed, one of the most amazing, beautiful men alive. Thank you for always being you.

There were certain things that Magnus feared. The loss of a loved one—his mind flashed to quick strides, dark hair and hazel eyes—, the loss of a friend—his breath caught at the image of dark eyes, dark hair streaked with grey, twin horns, and skin grown cold—, and the loss of his children—the downworlders he’d taken underneath his wings. His fingers dug into the oak coffee table, scouring the wood as his mind supplied him with images of everyone of them that he’d lost. Drawing in breath was hard, like he was suffocating, a direct contradiction to the cool breeze wafting into the outdoor patio of the mundane bar he’d decided to visit. Sometimes, he just needed that time to himself, amongst the mundanes that entertained him with how they scurried about in their daily lives, unaware of the world that existed in the shadows.

He did just that at the moment, watching them go about their lives when suddenly, everything… froze. From the waiter who had been heading to his table, to the lovers celebrating their recent engagement. Even the late night dog walker and her dog were frozen in place, her with a hand halfway up her hair, and the dog with his tongue half pulled into his mouth. As he took in the the sight, everyone frozen as far as he could he could see, and as he heard those footsteps, calm and unhurried, that oozing mass of power that would cower a lesser man, have them scurrying away or bending their heads in submission, Magnus came face to face with his biggest fear.

“Drinking alone,” a voice he’d heard only once in his life and had hoped he would never hear again wafted out to him, moments before the owner of the voice slid into the seat across from him. White suit—expensive as expected, stretched over a tall lanky form. “Now that doesn’t suit you Magnus,” he drawled as he casually shrugged off the jacket, undid the diamond studded cufflinks so he could roll up his sleeves and show off his forearms. Long lean fingers reached up to run through hair that was kept in place by the crown of barbed wire on his head. He waved his hands and men—shapeshifting demons, Magnus was sure—who’d accompanied him all gave them a wide berth.

“And how would you know what suits or doesn’t suit me,” Magnus tossed back as he reached for his glass of bourbon. “You don’t know me.”

The man grinned, teeth sharp in the moonlight. “Now, now Magnus. Why would you say that? Is that how you speak to your father?”

Magnus raised a brow and took a sip of his bourbon, eyes hard as he stared back at Asmodeus.

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She’s that feeling of having a
pink-n-fluffy cotton candy in
a carnival under
the midday skies with
puffy little clouds.
All jolly and vibrant
like the lights
from a carousel.

Gleeful, Shikha Singh

This is for my girls @teacup13 @denmysterywoman @just-4-thought  @ellenya @autumnsunshine10 @behind-the-sun  @typicalpoet :D

CS Neighbors au where Emma is a nurse and Killian is her definitely-faking-it hypochondriac neighbor who uses illnesses and injuries as an excuse to talk to her.


Killian knocks on her door wearing nothing but pajama pants.

“I’m dying.”

“Hello to you, too, Killian.”

“Yes, right, hello.”

“What’s it this time?”

“Breast cancer.”

“Uh huh. If you think you have cancer, you should go to a hospital.”

“I don’t like hospitals. Please would you just check for me? There’s a lump.”

“Ugh, fine.”

“Right here. Yeah. There! Do you feel it?”

“… That is your pectoralis minor. It’s a muscle.”

“Oh. You’re quite sure?”

“Literally everyone has them. I’m sure. You’ve got the same thing on the other side.”

“Bloody hell, wouldn’t you know it.”

“See? Your ‘breasts’ are fine. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“… Don’t suppose you’d have a bandaid for this paper cut on my finger, would you?”


(*coughs* All is good and well until he comes to her door claiming “lovesickness.”)

Humans are such tragic little things. So involved in their own meaningless lives that they’re blind to the world crumbling around them.
—  from an unfinished story #637

Dear Merlin, I am telling you now, because I’m afraid that it might be too late one day if I don’t: This was the most fun I’ve ever had. You’re next to me in my life. You’re the best person in the world, and I wouldn’t change a thing. Please remember me, even when I’m not there anymore one day to pick on you, and laugh at you, and call you names. You said I made you feel special. Well, you are special. And I would spend centuries with you if I could. I fear that the universe would rip in half if we went further apart than this, but I don’t think we have a choice. It’s not fair, but none of it ever was. Whatever the future holds, though, I don’t want you to change. I want you to always be you. Let’s make it the best life we can. Love, Arthur. 

Otayuri week 2017

DAY 5: Fears or Encouragement (Headcanons for everything because it’s perfect)

  • Don’t even try to fight with me on this: Yuri is a mess if it goes to jealousy all the time. But having a boyfriend, and that boyfriend being Otabek, is just too much for him.
  • He will fight everyone getting closer than 5 meters to him. Doesn’t matter if it’s Viktor, Yuri’s cat or salesman in shop. It is so easy to give Yuri reason to shout at someobody, or just show that “fuck you, Otabek is mine”
  • Deep down it’s because he feels not enough for Otabek, because he thinks his boyfriend is just perfect
  • At the same time, Otabek is jealous too, but he never shows it. He also thinks he’s not enough, but at the same time he would never allow anyone to take Yuri away from him. 
  • But Otabek, instead of shouting, every time he sees someone being too friendly with his boyfriend, just walks very close and with cold eyes, which can kill a human being, say something like “What do you want from my boyfriend?” with even colder tone. Noone ever wants to see him like that.
  • Long story short their relationship is strange mix between being anxious and showing how much they love each other. 
  • OH BOI ABOUT THEIR FIGHTS. They never have any major fights, more like shouting about stupid shit, but Yuri is so easy to swear, to kick Otabek out from house and just want to never see him again…
  • … for two minutes. Then he panicks, because he’s scared Otabek would really leave him and of course he didn’t mean that. He then always cries; Otabek comes back in few minutes and Yuri tries to apoligise, still crying, they’re hugging and saying how much they love one another and fight is over.
  • Yuri is just too much emotions in one small form you know.
  • BUT DAMN WHEN HE SEES OTABEK IS ANXIOUS. He’s peferct with encourage Otabek? He always knows what to say. With time, he learns how to mix every word which works for his boyfriend in one sentence, to make him feel more anxious, loved and strong enough to do everything.
  • And Otabek is so in love with him because of that?
  • At the same time I believe Yuri is always sure of what he’s going to do and that he’ll succeed. But Otabek never fails to still be next to him, supporting him.
  • And he definitely knows that Yuri works the best with bit of encouragement, like little promise about the reward or something like that.
  • tl;dr They’re perfect mess together.
Smoky sweet summer dusk – long days running the streets and long nights smiling like sharp glass. Don’t tell me it never mattered – we both know it did.
—  lies and sunsets // abby, day 189
So Good to Me (Lin x Reader)

Summary: You’d always known that you wanted to fly. The open seemed so inviting from the safety of the rooftop, much like the ocean: the tide lapping gently at your ankles, calling out to you, a soft and soothing voice whispering to you from the void. It convinced you that it would be okay, that it would catch you if you were to fall. Perhaps it would have done so, but thanks to Lin, you’d never know.

Warnings: Suicide/Depression

A/N: i apologize once again for posting something that isn’t a Kiss it Better update. I’ve been working on the write-a-thon fics all week and haven’t had time to edit kiss it better, oops. this was going to be for the write-a-thon but i realized while writing it that it didn’t really fit into any of the categories so i’m posting it now. also there are titanic and finding nemo references so basically i hate myself, and the title is a song by the 1975, why am i this way

You’d always thought the word ‘overdose’ to be an unnecessarily harsh word, and the reaction it invoked in people was, to say the least, not exactly understanding. Whether it was the word itself, or what the word conveyed that unnerved them, you didn’t quite care. Either way, you’d always known that an overdose wasn’t the way you wanted to go.

No, you wanted to fly. You wanted to hear the whistle of the wind as you fell, feel the sensation of the air rushing by you. You wanted to feel that small ounce of freedom that came with being utterly unattached from everything. Nothing to tie you down or hold you back.

You took a trembling step forward. The open air in front of you called out to you. Much like the sea, the sky seemed to be a source of comfort when you were so distanced from it, with such blatant unfamiliarity with the terrain.

Soft, yet menacing, the wind continued to pull at your frail body, demanding surrender. All you had to do was give in to the tempting pull of the air. Let yourself fall.

Below you, the rest of the world continued on with it’s business. Everyone with their own lives, their own friends, their own loved ones to worry about. And no one to worry about you. Not for that night, at least.

You could fall. You could allow yourself to surrender to the winds and plummet to your death, and the world beneath you would continue on as it was. Nothing would change, not until the next day at least. Not until Lin woke up and saw that you were gone. Not until your parents got the call the next day that you’d jumped from the top of Lin’s apartment building.

It wasn’t that you were sad. It was quite the opposite, in fact. You couldn’t feel anything, let alone sadness. You’d grown numb to the whole ordeal of life, and it seemed as though you were simply putting yourself through the motions of living without the capacity to pay the slightest bit of attention.

You could see the rest of your life stretched out in front of you, a tundra of monotonous greys and whites. Nothing particularly sad, but not the sort of life you’d aspired to live.

As you took a few more steps forward, you became acutely aware of the way the moon shone on you, almost like a spotlight highlighting your every move.

The edge was close. Too close, perhaps. You swayed precariously, knowing that one wrong step could send you plummeting into the open air.

You took a sharp breath in as you peered over the edge of the roof. The city gleamed brightly beneath you, as if mocking you. Telling you that it was your fault that you were so unhappy. If only you’d surrounded yourself with more people, brighter lights, taller buildings.

It was too late for that. No point in finding taller buildings and brighter lights now.

You felt a stab of regret as you prepared to jump. You hadn’t even left a note for Lin. You were going to die, and you hadn’t even bothered to leave something for your boyfriend. You felt as though you owed it to him to explain, but you couldn’t very well go back.

What would you have said anyway? That you couldn’t continue on because you simply didn’t care about anything anymore?

No, perhaps it was best if you kept your thoughts a secret from him. It would have been too hard to try and explain it to him, not to mention the devastation that would accompany seeing the look on his face.

You stood at the edge of the building and took everything in.

The night was silent, the sky dotted with stars.

It was 2:14 am, and the world should have been asleep. At least Lin was.

You let out a soft sort of whimper as you took a few steps back. If you truly intended to do this, you were going to get a running start so you couldn’t stop yourself.

Don’t hesitate. If you hesitate, you’ll start to doubt yourself.

You backed up until you were roughly ten feet away from the edge. You heard a thump from behind you, but you didn’t dare look back.

A soft voice cut through the bitter cold air, disrupting the silence of the night. “Y/N?”

Without having to turn around, you knew without a doubt that it was Lin.

Fuck. No.

“What are you doing? Are-” Lin’s voice trailed from mere confusion to the deepest understanding. “No! Don’t!”

You’d been certain he was asleep and that he wouldn’t notice your absence until morning, but there was no doubt that the voice belonged to Lin.

You tried to run, a desperate and final attempt to go through with this, but a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around your waist, preventing you from moving.

 “Please,” you whimpered, although you weren’t quite sure what you were asking of him. “Please.” You repeated yourself, repeating the word over and over until it felt foreign in your mouth.

“What are you doing?” Lin’s voice was tinted with the color of worry, a deep red clouding the night. “Were you-”

“Don’t,” you begged, cutting him off. “Don’t say it.”

Your voice was hollow, void of any sort of emotion whatsoever.

Lin held you as you trembled, shaking in from the combination of the cold air and the fear that had taken over not only your mind but your whole body.

“I’m going to take you inside, okay?” Lin spoke in a soothing tone, but it did nothing to make you feel better. “Get you some tea, blankets, whatever you need.”

You nodded, numbness spreading throughout your body. “Please… don’t…” You mumbled into his shirt, tears prickling in your eyes. They were wide, bright, even in the darkness. The shaky breaths that followed were, of course, to be expected.

“It’s okay, Y/N.” Lin brushed your hair out of your eyes. “Are you… are you alright?”

You didn’t bother to justify that question with a response. Lin knew you weren’t alright and there was nothing to be gained from saying it out loud. It was nothing but an empty whisper into the formidable vastness of the night.

Guilt stabbed at your gut as you gazed up at him and saw that his eyes were brimming with tears.

“Don’t cry.” Your voice came out as a hoarse whisper, barely audible, even in the silence of the night. You buried your face in the fabric of his shirt so you wouldn’t have to see him upset, but his body shook as he cried, seeming to shake the earth itself as well.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, hugging you tightly. “I should have done something.”

“There was nothing you could have done.” You drew away from him, but he kept a tight grip on you.

“I’m a horrible boyfriend.” Behind Lin’s watery eyes were islands of pain, a stretch of sadness that drew out for miles.

“Don’t say that. You’re not.”

Lin dropped his gaze, refusing to meet your eyes. “You’re shivering,” he noted, his voice shaking despite his attempts to keep it steady.

“It’s- It’s fine,” you replied, but your teeth chattered even as you spoke those two words.

“Let’s get you inside, okay?” Lin’s eyes searched for an answer, but none came. He let his fingers intertwine with yours and walked you back down the steps to the indoors.

Keep reading


When you and Jackson like each other but Jackson asks you for your friend’s name to give to Mark. You misunderstand and think that Jackson likes your friend so you distance yourself from Jackson. Jackson then gets Mark to talk to you and Mark accidentally reveals that Jackson likes you after which you and Jackson confess to each other~

Guys. GUYS. This was originally 15 texts and I had to condense it because a photoset can’t be more than 10. Tumblr! Why you do this?

Requested by: Anon

5 times jin failed at being smooth in the face of kim namjoon's obvious crush on him, and 1 time he got his shit together - rkatz - 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

i wrote a namjin 5 times fic because i’m trash

*arrives a month later with Sherlolly  fanfiction that takes place - of course - in the aftermath of ~that episode~*


“Go away, Sherlock”

“Mrs. Hudson sends biscuits.” He blurted out, ashamed of the way his tongue rushed to bribe her with sweets. He noticed, as he noticed (almost) everything else, the fact that she loved sweets. Always during her visits to Baker Street she took her tea with not one but two of Mrs. Hudson’s treats.

“You go down there and you talk to her.” John had said. “Fix it, Sherlock, as you fix everything else. Look, Mrs. H brought biscuits. That’ll get you inside. The rest is up to you.”

Her icy command came through the closed door.

“You can leave them at the door on your way out.”

“No, Molly. You have to let me in”.

He immediately regretted his poor choice of words.

“You know, I really do not have to do anything, just because you ask”.

“N-no, of course not.”

In a manner very un-Sherlock like, he faltered. Against her good sense, she was drawn to the door at this sign of vulnerability in his voice. It was as if her presence could make it better, which was, of course, a ridiculous thought.

“I just-I really need to explain-”

The door suddenly burst open. Molly Hooper stood before him, looking at him directly in the eye. His towering form wasn’t so intimidating now, she noticed, and, in turn, he didn’t feel very powerful standing before her.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

OK STEPH, the other time you talked about a world where magic is known and real and such so what if during the world cup Jo wakes up a teenager again (well, more of a teen that he is right now bc he's still a teen to me HE'S YOUNGER THAN ME, sorry) and jesus, Nate really didn't remember how sweet and soft Jo was when he was younger, when everything was okay between them - before Nate fucked everything up by breaking up with him over the phone after he got to Colorado the first time - 1/?

2/2 Jo wakes up a teen, pre relationship, pre draft obviously, and Nate can’t deal bc he never really noticed how flustered Jo got around him, how shy. It breaks his heart a little bc he has no idea how he didn’t notice it at the time, it makes him question pretty much everything because what would have happened with them had he not chickened out after the draft? (He doesn’t need to ask Jo to know he thinks they’d still be together, probably forever, just like he does) They probably have to talk about it like adults and Jo cries bc he felt so bad, like breaking up with him over the phone? And Nate hugs him and everything ends up in kisses and cuddles

Nate’s woken up by pounding on his door. He opens it to Larks’s face, flushed and confused, his hair curling in a mess all over his head. “What is it?” he asks, tired.

“Jo, I don’t know, he’s younger. Probably been replaced by a time traveler. Or maybe an alternate universe version of him? I don’t know. But you two used to be like, friends in juniors, right? He was asking for you.”

That wakes Nate up real fast. Jo, younger? The magic doesn’t happen often, but it’s unpredictable and unexplainable. Always unprompted, always lasts for 24 hours. Thank god they don’t have a game today, just practice.

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the sharpest lives - Chapter 4
By Organization for Transformative Works

The green skin was striking. The perfect coif of his chocolate-brown hair was somewhat disorienting. But Tsukishima couldn’t look away from his face - his eyes were sharp, keen in a way that reminded Tsukishima unnervingly of Kuroo. And his smile looked like a Venus flytrap, ready to bite.

“That’s him,” Tsukishima whispered to Hinata. “That’s the one.”

Hinata tipped his head. “Which one?”

“The one who was watching us.”

chapter 4/8, 8.4k, 3rd gym wingfic feat. tsukihina, bokuaka, and, most recently, seijoh.

You’re Everything I Want (And Nothing I Can Keep) - Chapter Nine

“Prove it. Bring her along this weekend, and prove it to everyone.” After a little white lie, Hiccup has to do something drastic to avoid embarrassing himself at a family reunion. Lost for any other ideas, Hiccup asks his best friend to pretend to be his girlfriend, just for a day. What could possibly go wrong?

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Start from the beginning

(fanfic.net) (ao3)

A Speech About Love

“You’re going to get cramp in your hand.”

Hiccup’s heart jumped out of his chest and his shoulders tensed up to his ears, his arms flailing madly, knocking off his headphones as he did so. They toppled onto the floor, dragging the keyboard and tablet down with them, landing in a tangled heap on the carpet. “How did you get in?!”

He’d been working solidly for most of the day, his hand cramping over his graphics tablet and his headphones thumping loud music. After he’d asked his boss for the time off, he’d received the stink-eye and was sharply told that he better get all of his work for the month done before he left, so all of Hiccup’s free time was consumed by sitting in front of the computer and trying to finish off as much as he possibly could. He had to rush through as many as possible to justify the two weeks off.

“Door was unlocked,” Astrid said cheerfully, bending down to help Hiccup gather everything that had fallen and put it back on the desk.

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I know and love all those headcanons and fics about Dirk just being very inexperienced and slightly confused when it comes to dates and romance and especially sex, but also consider this:

A young Dirk, fresh out of the CIA labs, who finds himself friendless and alone in a world he doesn’t understand, and that doesn’t seem to want to understand him, and the only way he can find some human connection is sex.
Because it’s easy to find someone who will take him home, older men who like his boyish face, girls, who think that he looks harmless enough that they can imagine losing their virginity to him, women who just filed their divorce and want to have some fun without consequences.

Dirk soaks up all and every little kiss and touch and gasp, because he’s so desperate for love; from time to time, he confuses it with actual affection, but that usually doesn’t last for long. The universe is quick to show him his place again.

And then, suddenly, really, there is Todd, and Todd is angry and bitter and absolutely wonderful, and who seems to like him almost as much as Dirk likes him.
They found a time machine and solved a crime and saved a girl, and yet the most exciting thing is still when Todd kisses him for the first time, early in the morning, while Dirk is telling what he thinks is a fascinating story about a pot of petunias and a whale. 

Only that Todd expects the most awkward, fumbling of kisses, Dirk blushing and stuttering and not knowing what to do, but Dirk pulls him closer with a steady hand on Todd’s hip, licks into his mouth and nibbles on Todd’s lower lip, kisses him breath- and mind- and senseless.
They break apart, or rather, Dirk pulls back, with a smug grin on his lips, and Todd doesn’t move, just gapes at him, and Dirk thinks that maybe, those faceless men and women were good for something in the end after all.