when will the movie be released? what will the plot be? how many times am i going to watch it? will it be a prequel or a sequel? will my darlings have changed? is vitya excited to be skating again? has yuuri’s hair grown longer? how ridiculously happy and in love are they? how have they settled in at st petersburg? is their training going well? when are they getting married? is yurio growing up okay? does he come over often? has he made more friends? how are makkachin and potya doing? what about phichit’s hamsters? has phichit done the ice show yet?
is otabek busy training or does he still do dj gigs? how did georgi’s date go? does yakov have any hair left? did him and lilia get back together? does chris still enjoy skating as much? what is his cat’s name? are him and masumi together? is jj doing fine after what happened at the gpf? have him and isabella set the date already? is everyone happy?
these are some of the things that occupy my thoughts daily
Stunned, Rose can’t summon the words to argue with him—Please don’t take me home, at least let me say goodbye to my friends first, please just talk to me, please—they all just drift around uselessly, unable to climb their way out of her throat.
Silently, she follows after him.
The first thing Rose hears upon setting foot in the TARDIS
is the sound of her own name, nearly lost amidst the full solid weight of
Mickey barreling into her like a freight train.
“Oh my god, I can’t believe it, I thought you’d never make
it back!” Mickey half-laughs, half-shouts into her ear. His arms wind snugly
around her, a pair of friendly boa constrictors squeezing her in
happiness. Rose hugs him back just as tightly, barely managing to blink back
tears; she didn’t expect to cry right now, but god, it just feels so
comfortable and warm, and it’s been so long since anyone hugged her.
“The Doctor said all the links were severed when you when
through the mirror,” Mickey continues. “He said it was impossible, he said—”
Suddenly Mickey steps back, his nose scrunched in confusion.
“Hang on,” he says, holding Rose at arms’ length while he looks her up and
down, eyes traveling over her coiffed hair, her heavy silken gown. “Wow. You
“Wow,” Rose teases. “You don’t.”
“Well, it’s only been a few hours for me—what about you?”
“About six months.”
Mickey’s face darkens, his eyes flickering over to the
Doctor. “Six months?”
“Yep, looks like my calculations were a bit off,” the Doctor
says, his voice tight as he breezes past them up the ramp. He rounds the
console, tossing a switch here, a lever there. “Well, to be fair, it’s less to
do with my calculations, more to do with an unstable time window—difficult to
predict, those, especially when they’re in such a sad state of disrepair. But
luckily for us,” he says, and his gaze very carefully avoids Rose at that last
word, “there was a loose connection.”
The TARDIS shudders around them as it dematerializes, and
Rose closes her eyes at the sound of the time rotor grinding, the
still-familiar vworp-vworp noise and
the soft and gentle buzz-hum underneath. She places a hand against a coral
strut, relishing the sandpaper-roughness beneath her fingers, and this time she
doesn’t fight the tear that trickles down her cheek. It’s as if a hole was
gnawing away in her chest over the last half-year, no matter how she tried to
ignore it, but now it’s filling in again. Good grief, but she’s missed these
sounds, this place.
“So that’s that,” the Doctor says, as if it’s final,
somehow. Rose opens her eyes to find him galloping down the ramp, striding out
of the console room. “End of one chapter, beginning of another. Welcome back to
the TARDIS!” the Doctor shouts over his shoulder.
There’s always this funny moment after finishing a Bioware game that I feel like I can go back to living my life? Like, as if ME and DA put my own existence on hold for a while, and I live only for that universe.
Come to think of it, maybe that’s exactly why I love their games.
The romanced companions reacting to Ryder saying 'I love you' for the first time in text please and thank you.
Prepare for all my headcanons! And per request, I’m adding Reyes in to this as well
Liam: The first time he hears her say it, it just sort of slips out in a casual situation, he just passed her something and she blurts it out before realizing she even said anything. He’s surprised that she said it, so is she. Then he simply chuckles and hugs her from behind. “I love you too” It causes her to blush but he finds it endearing.
Cora: He tried to make the first time he said it romantic but ended up stumbling over his words before he could get them out. She found it very romantic anyways and gives him a kiss on the cheek in return. “And I love you just as much”
Peebee: When Ryder tells her that, she is for once at a loss for words. Then she bashfully returns the same line when Ryder looks like they want the ground to swallow them up. When she sees her lover look up at her with bright eyes she just pulls them in for a hug
Vetra: They were on the battlefield when Ryder suddenly shouts it out after she pulls of an extremely impressive combat maneuver. She’s got adrenaline already pumping through her so she responds without pause, shouting back the same words. After the battle they don’t discuss it, but only because they don’t need words
Jaal: They’re on Aya, watching the stars at night when she suddenly announces her love for him. He stares at her incredulously for a moment before bringing her in for a long kiss. “And I, you.”
Suvi: She’s ecstatic the moment she hears those words, and holds her lover’s hands close to her, lacing her fingers with their’s as she returns the favor. The world could be dead to them for all she cared. “Oh Ryder, I love you too.”
Gil: They had been talking about random things when the conversation turned to silence. Then Ryder decided to just blurt out that he loved him. “What? I’m sorry I didn’t hear you? Could you say it again?” He jokes, earning a laugh before Ryder tells him that he’s serious. “It’s a good thing a love you back then.”
Reyes: The first time Ryder tells him that they love him it’s when they’re on opposite sides of the battlefield, guns pointed at the other’s face, Sloane Kelly calling for his blood in the background. “Dammit Reyes! And to think I love you…” He’s smiling sadly, and he can’t say it back but, well, he loves them too.
Strong fluff ahead. Figured we could use some of it in contrast from the normally angsty fics this ship has 😅
Sherlock Holmes had always wondered what it was about Irene Adler that made him so drawn to her. Was it her eyes? Her mischievous smile? The way her hair falls down her shoulders? No, that wasn’t it. He never would’ve gone for physical beauty, no. It was her mind. The challenge she brought him. Every single phrase laced with a dare. And he loved every bit of it. She was one of the most intelligent women he has ever met and he admired her for that. But that wasn’t all. What else?
Ah, yes. There was the sentiment of course but he would never admit that out loud, not to anyone else anyway. All those days where he played the piece he wrote for her, days that he missed her, all present and vivid in his memory. When he first felt her pulse he never intended to use it against her. In fact he was quite pleased, really, to see that she was just as affected as him, maybe her even more, but then she made her move, and though it was never spoken, he acknowledged how much it hurt him to hurt her. Punching the letters of his name into her phone, figuratively her heart, like a stab with each pressing tremor of his finger. He wanted her to feel how it hurt him the way she betrayed him, wanted her to be hurt more than she hurt him, but it still killed him to do it, and he left her that night feeling mad at himself than at her, and more so when he realized she was never going to last six months because of him.
He’d never tell anyone, but he kept a close watch on her after that. He had lots of connections and it wasn’t difficult for him to track her. So when the news came to him of her execution in Karachi, he didn’t hesitate to pack his bags and book a plane ticket, didn’t hesitate to plan out how to rescue her and how they’d escape, planned up to everything on how she’d live her life with a different name from then on.
When he saw her kneeling on the ground, helpless, not giving out a fight, and somehow knowing that what she typed into her camera-phone was for him, something inside him hurt. Ready to give up her life and without her protection, he was never going to forgive himself for that. But what he did for her after the sound of her moan emanated from his pocket, when she turned to look at him and saw tears, when he told her to run, this was his redemption for her. He knew how much he’d risked his life infiltrating a terrorist cell, flying thousands of miles away to get to her not knowing whether they’d survive or not, he was ready to lay down everything to save her.
The song he wrote for her on his violin. Her camera-phone, her heart in the palm of his hand. Her appearances in his mind palace. The rose she left him when he died and lived again. Her photograph in his pocket watch which he carried everywhere he went. He was never going to forget her. She was like a silent ghost, ever-present but not haunting. So when she somehow got around to texting him, he didn’t hesitate to transfer her text alert to her new number as well. A distinctive and very different sound to all the rest who were unimportant and bothered texting him. An attachment to the sound, an attachment to her. And with every single text alert there was always a vague thought at the back of his mind of how he missed and how relieved he was hearing it, knowing that she was somewhere safe.
So now that she was standing beside him on a floating yacht, on Valentine’s Day (he still wondered what was so special about it), he couldn’t be more satisfied that she was here, alive and with him. Her features soft and relaxed as her side were pressing against his. Their breathing is calm and steady, their heartbeats in sync. When she notices him gazing down at her, she turns her head to look up into his eyes, and it still amazes him of how he felt looking into them every single time.
“What?” she asks, a brow rising up in confusion, though he swears he could hear that familiar playful tone in her voice.
He lets out a small chuckle and turns his body to face her. He’s got to give John the credit for his little speech. The man really was sensible for encouraging him. And maybe even Mycroft too. He did say he drove her into his path. Though he wasn’t sure how his brother dear would react to that.
He presses his lips to her forehead and she lets out a small sigh as she leans into him. Who knew that a strange meeting in a sunlit room, one dead man, and a beating would lead down to this? Sherlock hated dwelling on sentimentality, but he never could resist a touch of drama.
Seven years ago he would’ve slapped himself for saying this, but now he couldn’t care less. So when Sherlock presses his forehead against Irene’s, closing his eyes, and gathering all the emotions he had in him for her, he didn’t hesitate. “I love you.”
( this only happened because of this commission I made for literaryoblivion that made my bestie Ty‘s cowboy fetish resurface so I wrote him 5k whoops <3 )
Derek knows, the moment he enters the stables, what’s waiting for him there. Or rather: who.
He’s barely stepped in far enough to be out of sight from the house, where the ranch owner’s wife is still sipping her afternoon tea on the front porch, when a pair of hands grabs him by his belt loops and pull him into a shadowed corner. The reins that’s been slung over his shoulder are dropped to the floor with a dull thud against the concrete. Derek grunts a little when his back hits the wall, but there’s already a smile growing at the corner of his mouth as his gaze lands on his capturer.
Stiles; son of the man who hired Derek to work at his ranch. His beautiful face is lit up by that young and mischievous spark in his brown eyes, accompanied by the dangerous smirk playing on his lips as he takes one step back, never letting go of Derek’s belt.
I was like 15. It was a roleplay site. One request: for my name to have 'fox' in it. They named me Lionkit. Eventually, Lionclaw. I planned my revenge, rose in the ranks, and became the Deputy. The leader was having problems in school, and would have to quit. It was time for me to become leader, Lionstar, and on the day that it was supposed to happen, I disappeared and never went back. The clan: in chaos. With a battle looming. I think it got taken over. I regret nothing.