look at his hands oh my god

Tea Party Entertainment

Kashi: Hope you don’t mind, but I thought of an idea for this crack-fic and couldn’t get it out of my head.

“You know, Hinata,” Sousuke said quietly as he stared at his twin, “I never noticed how beautiful your eyes looked.”

At the compliment, Hinata raised his hand to hold Sousuke’s cheek, smiling gently as his fingers stroked. “When you say things like that… you make me never want to leave your side.”

“But you know that I never want to leave yours.” Sousuke’s fingers reach up to wrap around his brother’s, holding them tight as the wind shook the tree above them, casting leaves off the branches—

“Oh my God, you guys.”         

At the interruption, laughter breaks out between the twins. From across the table, Ai held his head in his hands, groaning. Hinata and Sousuke turned back towards their company, trying to stifle their amusement before it got louder.

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No, Wait, You Got it All Wrong

You know what there’s not enough of? Canon compliant future fic where Stiles is a cop and he runs into Derek again. What’s that you say? There’s a ton of that?? Yes, true, but NOT ENOUGH.

“…. so then he says, ‘No, Officer, I swear to God this is the first time I’ve ever smoked up! I’ve never been in trouble with the law in my life! And I say, Billy, my man, you’ve been in trouble with me personally twice this month.” Stiles snorts at the memory. “Kid was so fucking high.”

Amanda must be halfway past tipsy, because she laughs uproariously into her beer at the mediocre punchline.

Stiles smiles. He’s satisfied with her reaction, with the warm murmur of the bar, with the buzz he’s got going… with just about everything, actually. After tonight, he’s looking at two full days off before he’s back on the beat, and the night’s still young. He leans back in his chair and takes a pull of his beer, savoring it.

Amanda glances towards the bar, probably considering a fourth round, and then visibly perks up as something near the front catches her eye.

“Oooh, Stiles,” she croons. “Look over at the door, like, just glance over.” She’s adjusted her gaze down at the table now, faking casual disinterest. Badly.

Stiles raises his eyebrows at her.

“This dude just walked in, he’s so your type,” she hisses. “C’mon, look! I’m telling you, six feet two inches of ‘yes, please, give it to me’ muscles, with some salt-and-pepper scruff icing. Unff.”

“Eh,” Stiles says, tipping his weight forward to hunch over the table. It’s not that he isn’t interested, exactly, but this is a cop bar and he doesn’t want to shit where he eats. Metaphorically.

“No, really,” Amanda insists. “He's… oh my God, he’s looking over here. He’s looking at you. Oh my God, Stiles, he’s coming over here!”

“No, he isn’t,” Stiles scoffs. He’s filled out a bit from high school and he’s finally competent at styling his hair, but he’s not that hot. Only Amanda’s sitting straight like a rod, eyes fixed on a point behind him that’s about where a six foot two man’s eyes would be.

“Stiles?”

He turns then, shooting to his feet before his brain’s quite caught up, because that voice is familiar like the back of his own hand.

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youtube

17TH OF MAY SPECIAL

THE GUYS: Dab, dab, dab, dab, dab, dab!!

[HEY BRISKEBY]

MUTASIM: Yes, we love…* Today, it’s the 18th of May, so we’re going to have a, boom, 17th of May special.

ELIAS: What are you doing?

MUTASIM: Bro..

ELIAS: You know this is my Youtube channel, right? And then you come with this 17th of May stuff..

MUTASIM: Look, look, look how tired this guy is and I’m like fresh.

MIKAEL: He has a bowtie.

MUTASIM: Bowtie! I got this, understand?

MIKAEL: [Singing]

ELIAS: But what’s the thing with the 17th of May? Why do we celebrate the 17th of May?

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One foot in the grave

From the age of two Lance never stopped moving.
He would crawl through his house making it impossible to keep track of him.
However it was nothing compared to what he was like when he learned how to walk.
Soon as he could stand on his own two feet he was gone.
He would run through the garden chasing birds.
He would run to his classes in school.
He would run to the store.
He would run across the road.
Without looking both ways.
He would run straight into the path of a truck.
While he was lying in the hospital bed with his legs shattered all the doctors would tell him was how lucky he was to be alive.
For a while Lance thought that his luck would also save his legs.
But it wasn’t to be.
The doctors did all they could, using pins to try and fuse the bones back together.
However after only two days infection had set in and they had no choice but to amputate the first leg.
The second came a week later after it became clear that the bone just wasn’t fusing back together.
For months Lance was trapped in a chair, healing and waiting.
He never cried though. If he cried then his mama would cry.
Lance wouldn’t have his mama crying because of him.
When he finally got prosthetics it wasn’t what he had been hoping for.
It was a long painful process full of disappointment and failure before he could walk again.
And an even longer time before he could run again.
However Lance was determined and never gave up.
By time he moved to a new high school no one could tell he was missing both legs.

Lance was walking home from class grumbling to himself. He was pretty annoyed that his best friend Hunk had decided that he would prefer to hang out with Pidge then him.
Well not decided more like had to do he wouldn’t fail the project they were working on.
But Lance felt like being petty.
It had been raining that day, the humidity made his stumps painful which made him irritated.
To make things worse he had no choice but to walk home in the rain since his car had gone and died on him that morning.
Lance was so busy wallowing in self pity that he didn’t even notice he was about to walk into someone.
He managed to walk straight into a figure huddled inside their jacket causing the two of them to fall to the ground with a thud.
“What the hell man!” Lance yelled before stopping when he realised who he had just walked into.
Keith glared at him the rain plastering his dark hair to his face “not my fault! You walked into me!”
“Yeah well your still a jerk! You park in the handicapped space yesterday at the mall!” Lance yelled pointing at him accusingly.
“Why the hell do you care where I park! It was like 4am and it wasn’t like anyone needed it!” Keith snapped getting to his feet and trying to brush some of the water away.
“You didn’t kno-” Lance had tried to stand but when he was halfway up a cracking sound echoed around the empty campus and he went flying forwards right into Keith who caught him out of pure instinct.
Keith’s anger quickly turned to concern and nausea at the sight of the unnatural angle the lower half of Lance’s leg was now bent.
“Oh my god! Shit I’ll call an ambulance!” Keith stuttered as he carefully lowered Lance to the floor and looked for his phone only to find it cracked and unresponsive.
“D-don’t worry I’ll erm I’ll… why are you laughing?”
Lance was laughing hard as he watched Keith’s panicked actions.
“Relax dude I’m fine. See” he grabbed his foot and pulled making Keith have to fight the urge to throw up as it came away in his hand.
“See just plastic.”
Keith’s eyes widened at the sight of the prosthetic. He had no idea that Lance, the over confident narcissistic pretty boy was a amputee.
Suddenly him getting upset about Keith taking the handicapped spot makes much more sense.
“Shit… I’m sorry.”
Lance shrugged, “nah you were right it wasn’t your fault. But erm if your still riding the guilt train I could use a ride? I mean if you don’t mind.” He looked away blushing and Keith couldn’t help but smile.
“Yeah sure.”
He didn’t wait for permission, instead he simply scooped Lance up princess style and walked him to his car, a small beat up red thing that could almost pass for home made with all the repairs done to it.
“H-hey I don’t need carrying!” Lance’s blush deepened as he wrapped his arms around Keith’s neck for stability only. Or at least that’s what he told himself.
“It’s quicker then you just hopping along.” Keith shrugged as he deposited Lance in the passenger seat and took his place behind the wheel.
“Still dude. It’s humiliating. Bad enough you know about my legs.”
Keith rose and eyebrow as he pulled out of the parking lot. “I only knew about one of them.”
“Fuck…” Lance hissed under his breath.
Keith couldn’t help but chuckle quietly at that.
“Man I really am an idiot, can you keep this between us… it’s just I’d prefer everyone not to know.”
Lance sounded so small and vulnerable in that moment that Keith glanced over to check that it really was the same obnoxious guy he knew from school.
“Look I promise I won’t tell anyone… but maybe you should.”
“What would you know about this?” Lance huffed crossing his arms.
“More then you would expect, my brother Shiro lost his arm and he was suffering in silence for a long time. I just don’t want you to do the same.”
Keith glanced over at Lance to see him looking very embarrassed.
Keith’s eyes widened “b-by that I mean anyone in your situation not j-just you specifically!” He rambled on quickly.
Lance laughed that strong joy filled laugh of his That always seems to light up the room. “It’s cool man. I knew what you meant.”
They pulled up outside Lance’s home and Keith offered his shoulder for support this time rarther then carrying him in.
After ringing the bell and waiting on the door step Lance looked up at Keith. “Hey Keith.”
“Yeah Lance?”
“Thanks.”
Lance kissed him on the cheek just as the door opened and Lance launched himself on his older brother closing the door behind him.
Leaving a very confused, very wet but also very very VERY happy Keith standing outside.

You Look Like You Need a Drink (M)

Originally posted by hidden--demons

Summary: After a bad week with the worst luck imaginable, you happen upon a local dive bar run by an attractive young bartender who livens up your evening.

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 7,221

Warning: Bartender!Yoongi, tattooed!Yoongi, sexual harassment, sexual themes, power play, manners kink, alcohol use, profanity

A/N: I wrote this last year for my dear friend’s birthday and swore this fic would never see the light of day. I have since “remastered” it, so to speak, so I’m sharing it here. SURPRISE!

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That's Not So Different

@lovelylangst, I saw your idea that Voltron is hit by a spell by Haggar that makes them all revert to their original languages and I loved it so much I made a fic out of it.
I don’t know if you like your ideas being written out, so if you don’t, tell me and I’ll take it down.
Also, I kinda changed the idea a bit, so basically Pidge is perceptive and Allura is an oblivious bastard.

I don’t usually write ff alright.

Word count - 2000+

Pidge stumbled out of her lion, her bayard clasped to her chest, wheezing. Her voicebox felt like it had been clapped in hot iron, and black lightning sparked painfully from her armour where Haggar’s spell had struck Voltron. It had lanced all the way through the metal, and Pidge had heard Hunk whimper in pain.

Keith was sliding down Red’s leg. Some of his armour was shattered - no doubt from the hit - and his helmet was off. Sweat stuck to his forehead. His violet eyes were wide, and full of fear. He didn’t seem to want to look at her.

Hunk and Lance were nowhere to be seen - hiding out still in their lions, probably, like a mouse from a cat’s claws. Shiro eased himself out of his lion’s mouth. His helmet was off, too, but he looked unhurt. Voltron hadn’t won - but they’d escaped. For now, they were safe.

“Shiro! Pidge!” Allura came sprinting up to the hangar, her silvery hair flying behind her - she hadn’t bothered to tie it up. Coran was running behind her. “Lance!”

“He’s… He’s still in his lion, Coran,” stammered Pidge. “Oh, God, that was a hit… I feel all weak.”

“It must have been the komar,” deduced Coran, his hands a flurry at the scanner. “That spell Haggar devised. Do you feel like you’re going to pass out? Are you hurt?”

Pidge shook her head, shakily. “No,” she muttered. “I’m f-fine. Just shaken.”

“Keith? Shiro?” asked Allura. Her eyes were wide. “Are you hurt?”

Keith shook his head. Shiro opened his mouth to say something, but Keith, swift as a whip, stuck his hand over Shiro’s jaw. Shiro glared at him, and pulled his arm away.

“Shiro -”

There was something different about Keith’s voice.

It seemed more accented, sounding a little like Shiro’s when he mumbled to himself in Japanese. Keith didn’t seem eager to say much. He had deactivated his bayard, and was staring at it like he’d lost purpose. Pidge felt a rush of fear, down to her toes. Something was different, and if Keith was acting on it, then something was not only different, it was wrong.

“Kīsu, sore o yame nasai -”

Shiro clamped a hand over his mouth.

Pidge glanced at him, curiously. “Shiro?”

Shiro’s eyes had gone terrified. His cheeks were pale as chalk.

“Shiro?!” Allura sounded scared, her hands tugging at her hair in apprehension. “What’s happened? What was that?”

“Japanese,” Pidge said, exchanging a look with Keith. “Shiro, are you okay? You look -”

She wanted to say like death, but she felt like it might be considered a bit too rude and out of place, seeing as they had just nearly died anyway. Shiro looked like he was going to throw up. Keith, standing beside Shiro, put his arm on Shiro’s shoulder, and led him away without a word.

“What’s going on?” spluttered Coran. He was tapping at the blue lion’s leg with his communicator. “The lions are running, but Hunk’s been knocked out and Lance just won’t leave his! What’s wrong?”

“I think,” said Pidge slowly, “that something is different.”

Slav came running in, just as the blue lion’s jaw opened. The noodle alien paused, his eyes round.

“Oh, so you survived,” he said. “The probability of that was highly unlikely. Are you sure you’re alive?”

“Yes, Slav,” muttered Pidge. “Go do something else now.”

Slav didn’t move. He twisted a whisker like tendril around his mouth with his top pair of arms, like the way Coran did.

Footsteps tapped behind her, and Pidge looked back.

Lance limped towards them, taking off his shattered helmet. One eye was bruised and puffy. His knee trembled under his body weight.

“Lance!” Pidge ran up to him, but before she reached him, he collapsed, smudging blood on the floor. Allura gasped, and ran to join Pidge beside him.

Lance’s body was battered with bruises. His eyes were closed, one swollen with blood and purple. His armour was a mess, but at least he was breathing.

“Is he okay?” Allura whispered.

“I think so,” Pidge confirmed. She took off her glasses and pressed the lens to Lance’s bruise to test the severity. While she did that, Coran helped a very dazed Hunk out of his lion. He looked confused, but unhurt. Better than Lance and Shiro, at least.

“Why was Shiro speaking Japanese?” Allura asked, in an offhand voice. Pidge looked up.

“Native language,” she shrugged. “People tend to switch to their native language when they’re shocked.”

“Really?” Allura sounded interested. “What’s yours?”

“Sarcasm.”

Allura sighed. “English, right?”

“Yeah,” Pidge admitted, looking a little guilty.

-

“How’s Lance?” Pidge asked.

Coran was standing by the healing pod, twisting his moustache. He started when Pidge spoke.

“Pidge! Oh, you scared me!” He wiped his forehead. “He’s alright. He wasn’t badly injured. An hour more, and he should be raring to go!”

“Right, thanks.”

Coran eyed her.

“How is Shiro?”

Pidge sighed. “Still in shock. Babbling to Keith in Japanese. Clear to God Keith doesn’t understand a word of it.”

“Oh, really?” Coran looked interested. “Had Keith spoken yet?”

“No…” Pidge suddenly realised where Coran was coming from, and a jolt of horror shook her. “No, Coran. That doesn’t happen to us. Besides, neither Keith nor Lance have spoken, and they have English as their first language.”

“Not Keith,” said Coran. “His family - ignoring the Galra side - come from Korea. They moved to Texas before he was born.”

“Fine, Lance then.”

Coran glanced at her, before saying, in a controlled voice:

“Druid magic is capable of many things, Pidge.”

Pidge shrugged.

“It’s different, certainly.”

-

“So, you’re saying…” Allura tapped her nails on the table. Around her, sat Pidge, Coran, and Slav.

“Yes, princess,” said Coran, not needing the question to be finished. “Earthlings have many languages. It’s totally possible.”

“That’s true,” admitted Slav. He fiddled with his fingers, his beaklike mouth quivering.

“Admittedly,” Allura said, “you could be right. But then why is Lance not speaking? He speaks English, doesn’t he?”

“Yes, princess,” said Pidge. “That, I don’t get. He’s biracial, Cuban-American… Maybe he speaks Spanish.”

Allura snorted. “Trying to get attention, more like.”

“Hey!” Pidge retorted. “Lance isn’t like that! Don’t go like that! When he’s breaking like that, it’s dangerous!”

“Pidge, he’s like that every day!” Allura complained. She looked away from Pidge’s angry face into Coran’s concerned one. “So, I chase down Lance, and then we wait for the magic to wear off?”

“If it wears off.”

Pidge glared at Slav. “You know, for someone who’s always complaining about the odds, your pessimism doesn’t exactly help.”

“It doesn’t?”

Pidge fought the urge to throw Slav out the airlock.

“Princess, your idea of ‘chasing down Lance’ doesn’t seem to work in my mind,” Coran fretted. “He’s earned some rest.”

“Which he has now had!”

Coran sighed.

“Y'know, Princess,” Pidge said, trying to relieve some tension, “maybe I should just go get Lance.”

“No,” said Allura, standing up, and brushing her hair behind her in a determined fashion. “He won’t take it seriously if you deliver it. I will.”

And before anyone could say anything, Allura left, shutting the door behind her.

-

“Lance?”

Her fingers stung underneath the icy feel of the doorframe. The sky-blue light swept over the stooped figure hiding in the corner. Cloaked in an olive jacket.

“Lance?” Allura stepped cautiously forward, before gasping, and taking a few hesitant steps back.

Lance was crying.

The blue paladin sat hunched, her forehead on his knees and his tan hands wrapped over his face. Tears glittered on his hands like liquid diamond, rasping unintelligible words to the floor.

“Lance!” Allura said, for the third time, but now her voice filled with panic. She didn’t know why - Lance had always irritated her, even after he had stopped his stupid flirting game - but the Lance in front of her looked like the last kind of person to flirt with a princess. What she could see of the gleam of his blue eyes he was raw with sadness.

“Oh, my god,” Allura whispered. Lance didn’t look up - had he even heard her?

She heard footsteps behind her, and saw Pidge and Keith. Both of them looked stricken. Keith had his hands over his mouth as he hurried to Lance’s side. His eyes gleamed, and he looked horrified.

Pidge stood, her hands on her bayard. She looked angrily triumphant, accusing eyes on Allura, hissing, “I told you! I swear to god I warned you!”

“I - I…” Allura didn’t have the words. She bit her lip, shaken.

Keith was whispering words in Korean, his hands in Lance’s, trying to make him look at him, wiping at Lance’s tears with the hem of his cropped jacket. Allura caught a few words off the side.

“Ulji mal-ajuseyo. Jagiya, ulji ma.” He kissed Lance’s tear-streaked cheek and wrapped his arms around him.

Allura froze. Only speaking one language. Keith’s words were worthless when Lance didn’t know what they meant.

Lance’s eyes glowed a sharp, water blue through the darkness, fixed intently on Allura. He looked more angry than sad now. Suddenly, Allura felt a chill in her blood that had nothing to do with the cold castle.

“No tienes idea,” he spat. “¿Por qué me subestimas? Quiero que mires más allá de tus propias esperanzas por una vez.”

Only one language.

Oh, God.

She had never been more wrong about someone.

Pidge had gasped a little at Lance’s words, but Keith didn’t move. He kissed Lance, on the lips this time. Tears shuddered down his face.

Allura took off running, not wanting to see anyone. She knew Lance’s tears came from more than just pain, of not having anyone understand him. The way he looked at her… It was her fault. All her fault.

When she reached her own room, she cried almost as much as she had seen Lance doing.

-

Pidge sat at Lance’s side.

She hadn’t known something for sure. Guesses weren’t good enough. She cursed herself.

Not knowing something certainly - that was different. Pidge didn’t like different things.

-

“Where is he?”

Pidge looked wary about telling Allura… Anything… About Lance’s position. He looked pretty broken from their encounter from yesterday.

“In his room,” Pidge said eventually. “Keith is with him.”

Allura nodded mutely.

“This is your fault, you know,” she said accusingly.

Allura sighed. “I know. I’ve never been more wrong about something.”

Pidge turned her head to the blueprints on her lap, and didn’t say anything.

“I was wrong,” Allura repeated. “I didn’t listen to you. Not to Keith when he said that Lance needed more recognition. He nearly died for Coran… God, if Coran had died..” Her eyes drifted off into space, but she made them stoic and rigid again.

“I don’t know a thing about Lance,” said Allura. “I didn’t pay enough attention to him - not even so I knew he loved Keith and Keith loved him back, not so I knew he cried like that… I was wrong. You were right. He didn’t speak because he couldn’t. But when Keith and the others didn’t try, I didn’t care, and Lance could easily have been unable to speak as much as the others. But no, I was stupid. I thought he was flunking. I was wrong. You were right, he was bilingual. Spanish is his main language. Worst of all, he couldn’t tell me… But would I have listened?”

Pidge didn’t stop Allura, idly listening to her words whilst tapping on the electronics.

“I was wrong,” she repeated. “You were right. It’s always you who’s right.”

Pidge blinked. Then she smiled, cocky.

“Me, always right?” she asked. “Yeah, that’s not different. That’s not different at all.”

Among the Crowd (Soulmate AU)

Summary: Soulmates’ worlds go from black and white to colors when they are in the same room for the first time. Bucky is a famous actor in the middle of a convention, trying to find his soulmate, you.

Word Count: 2,232

A/N: This is a re-write of a Dean W. fic and I hope you all like it :D 

Originally posted by v-writings


Bucky took a swig of water, tightening the cap on the bottle before setting it to the side. His meet-and-greet was about to start. He could hear the bustling of the crowd right outside the door and took a deep breath. Alongside him was Clint, a co-star.

“You doing okay, buddy?” asked Clint, eyes concerned as he placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky smiled. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

After a few minutes, Nat Romanoff and Sam Wilson took their seats next to each other and the writer of the show, Bucky’s oldest friend, Steve Rogers, emerged from behind the black curtain that had been put up behind the actors.

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anonymous asked:

What do you think about an “i picked up your bag at the airport but i can’t find your number so i’m about to embark on the largest scavenger hunt of all time by using your strange belongings to track you down” au with charmer or nurseydex or zimbits or something??

Well, I don’t know if you expected three mini fics, and I didn’t fully follow the prompt, but here we are.

1. Charmer

Look, Chris knew it was dumb. He knew that everyone on earth had a plain black suitcase, he knew he should have double-checked the luggage tag, he knew it was important to be sure abut these things. But knowing what he should have done couldn’t help him when he finally got his suitcase home and opened it up to find mostly yoga pants and sundresses. 

Fuck.

He zipped the bag back up and flipped open the luggage tag. It was cute, pink with some metallic lettering saying “I’m outta here!” in a handwritten font. Chris blamed jetlag and the redeye flight for making him miss the fact that it wasn’t his Sharks tag. He blamed the bag’s owner for not filling out any of the information on the tag.

Dammit.

Well, sorry random girl, he thought. He opened the suitcase up again to try to see if he could find anything that would give him a clue as to who the suitcase owner was. He moved a makeup bag aside, and hit gold immediately. Well, Samwell red. A Women’s Volleyball tshirt– mystery suitcase girl had to be on the volleyball team.

“Hey Ransom!” he yelled. “You’re facebook friends with all the volleyball team right?”

“He’s friends with everyone on campus!” Holster yelled back.

“Ask their captain if anyone flew in from the Bay Area and lost their luggage!”

_X_

“Is Justin here? My captain said he’s got my suitcase.” Chris overheard her at the door. He grabbed the bag and started hauling it downstairs. As he set it down at the bottom and caught sight of the girl in the doorway, he froze. She was pretty. Like, really pretty. 

“Um, hi,” he said.

“So you’re Justin? Oh my god, I’m so glad it wasn’t some total rando who got my bag.” 

“I’m actually Chris, Justin was just the one who was friends with your captain. Um, I’m sorry, but I kind of had to look through your stuff? Your luggage tag wasn’t filled out.” The girl laughed.

“Yours wasn’t either! Me and my teammates were like one minute away from googling the record holder for most San Jose Sharks merch, but it totally makes sense that you’re on the hockey team.” 

“Since we both forgot to write our numbers down, maybe we should do that now?” Chris suggested. The girl grinned, grabbed his phone out of his hand, and opened up a new contact. She punched in a number, and when she handed it back he saw a text of several random emojis addressed to the new contact of “Caitlin Farmer” with a girl farmer emoji and a volleyball emoji.

“Text me sometime, and maybe we can get dinner?” she said, and she was gone with her suitcase. 

Chris collapsed on the couch, a dreamy look in his eyes.

“Chowder? You get your suitcase back?” Bitty called out from the kitchen.

“Yeah! and I think I’m in love now!”

2. Nurseydex

“Cheryl, I’m telling you, I had a ton of inspiration on the plane and I wrote some great stuff for act three. No. No, it wasn’t just me thinking it’s great because I popped some melatonin and got really sleepy. It’s like, legit. Yeah, I’ll send it over as soon as I get home and–”

Derek slammed into something. If he’d been holding his phone in his hand (bluetooth is a blessing when you drop stuff easily) it would have launched across the airport. As it was, his post-flight latte was soaking through the nice white shirt of the handsome stranger in front of him.

“Shit,” the stranger said, looking down to survey the damage.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have trusted myself to make a phone call and not be clumsy after such a long flight,” Derek said. He set his briefcase down and pulled a wad of napkins out of the outside pocket. The guy took a deep breath, going from murderous to calm in a few seconds. 

“I wasn’t looking where I was going either, it’s not your fault,” the guy said, setting down his own briefcase and accepting the napkins. He blotted at his shirt.

“Let me pay for the dry cleaning. Or a replacement,” Derek offered. The man shook his head.

“It’s fine, it probably needed to go to the cleaners anyways.” He checked his watch. “If I run, I can probably get a new one before my meeting.” He wadded the napkins into one big ball, picked up his briefcase, and walked towards the exit with a terse nod. Derek, feeling terrible about the whole thing, picked up his own briefcase and walked to baggage claim.

By the time he was reunited with his home office, a cozy bookshelf-lined room in his brownstone, he had almost forgotten about the coffee incident. He was focused on sending the manuscript to Cheryl. Unfortunately, that was going to be difficult, considering he pulled a PC laptop out of the bag instead of his Mac.

Derek stared at the computer for a full minute. He almost couldn’t believe that this was happening to him. Hesitantly, he opened the laptop. On one side of the keyboard there was a weird thing that a few seconds of phone googling told him was a fingerprint scanner. Shit. He hit the space bar experimentally. Something flashed on the screen, and then was replaced with just a plain black screen with red text: ACCESS DENIED

Derek swore. He started to look through the rest of what was in the briefcase, but was disappointed to find it empty except for the laptop’s charger, three packs of gum, and receipts from a lobster shack in Maine. Shit. Nothing in here would tell him anything about the redhead he’d launched a latte at. 

He closed the laptop dejectedly, ignored his editor’s text messages, and went into the kitchen to make himself lunch and feel sorry for himself. This was the universe punishing him for covering a cute guy with coffee. If he had just kept his focus and waited to call his editor later, he could have sent the draft along and saved it and not be desperately trying to remember his inspiration.

Just as the self-pity spiral was really taking off, the doorbell rang. Derek sighed, put down his tea, and walked to the door. When he opened it, it wasn’t Girl Scouts or Jehovah’s Witnesses, but the guy from the airport.

“Cancel whatever you’re doing today, I need to teach you the most basic principles of digital security,” the guy said, pushing past Derek into the dining room. He shoved a stack of papers onto a chair and pulled Derek’s laptop out.

“I’m Will, by the way, I make software that’s hopefully a step ahead of viruses.”

“Is the draft still there?”

“The draft of what?” The guy looked confused.

“My third act breakthrough. I’m a novelist, I need to get it to my editor and I couldn’t remember if I saved it,” Derek explained.

“You know you can set up an auto-save every five minutes or so, right?” Will asked.

“This might be surprising to you, but I’ve never had a cute guy storm into my house and yell at me about computers before.” Will looked up from Derek’s computer, blushing.

“I haven’t had a cute guy dump a gallon of coffee all over me and steal my laptop before, either, but here we are.”

“Maybe you can yell about computers over lunch with me?”

3. Zimbits

Button downs. Tank tops. Slacks. Shorts. Three rolling pins. A pie tin. A half-emptied multipack of sharpies.

No lucky puck. No clothes in his size. No jerseys.

Jack sighed. It would just be too much to ask for anything to go well today. He picked up his phone to call someone with the Falconers, in the hope that they could talk to the airline and sort all this out. At the same time, his phone lit up with Tater’s face.

“Zimmboni! Look on twitter. Small internet baker has your suitcase!” Tater hung up before he could reply, so Jack just opened twitter instead. 

omgcheckplease: A bunch of pucks, some dirty jerseys, and a history textbook. Either I’m back in college or this isn’t my suitcase.

omgcheckplease: .@falcsofficial please tell your #1 player to DM me and come get his shit

omgcheckplease: and @falcsofficial tell him to give me my shit back. my hockey days are in the past, I need rolling pins, not a mouthguard

Jack smiled and laughed in the way a person laughs when they’re alone, just blowing more air than normal out of his nose. He looked through the twitter for a minute– the guy, Eric Bittle, was a Providence-based chef, whose latest tweets were mostly greetings to the various cities he’d been visiting on tour. Jack clicked the media tab on the account, and looked through the pictures. Bittle was cute. He wrote a reply.

zimmboni: .@omgcheckplease how do I send u a DM

omgcheckplease: .@zimmboni you don’t deserve to be verified, oh my god #verifybittle2k17

A few seconds later another notification popped up, and he tapped it to be brought to a DM window.

omgcheckplease: hey! sorry about the mixup. I can only imagine how confused you were to find all my book tour stuff.

zimmboni: Probably as confused as you were finding hockey stuff?

omgcheckplease: I wasn’t joking in my tweets, I did play hockey before I got into the whole cookbook/food show thing

zimmboni: Exactly, I did a book tour last year in the off-season :-)

omgcheckplease: oh my gosh, isn’t it the best and the worst?

zimmboni: I know. It’s great to meet people and talk about your work, but it’s exhausting.

omgcheckplease: that’s why I’m so excited to be back in Providence! at least until the next cookbook.

zimmboni: Well we should probably meet up to trade suitcases. Want to meet somewhere for dinner?

omgcheckplease: don’t trust me to learn where your house is?

zimmboni: I mean, if dinner goes well enough…

omgcheckplease: OH. okay, then, Mr. Zimmermann, it’s a date.

Jack smiled to himself, and got ready for his date.

One Foot In The Grave

First thing Keith did when he got home was scream into his pillow and flop onto his bed.
Lance had kissed him!
He hottest and most popular guy in school had actually kissed him.
“Good day?” Shiro asked from the door way.
He didn’t have his prosthetic on and looked like he had just gotten out of the shower with his hair still wet clinging to his forehead.
“Shiro am I dead?” Keith asked remaining face down.
“What?” He asked in surprise sitting on the edge of the bed.
“I think I must of died, maybe I’m passed out somewhere and it didn’t really happen.” Keith mumbled.
Shiro was starting to get worried, he had never seen his brother like this before. “Keith, buddy you need to tell me what happened.”
“Lancekissedme.” Keith said very very quietly.
“What was that?” Shiro asked sure he must of misheard him.
“L-Lance the guy everyone at school loves kissed me…”
“…”
Silence.
Keith bit his lip nervously staring down at his Spider-Man bed spread.
Shiro started laughing causing the younger boy to glare up at him. “What’s so funny!” He demanded.
“I figured you had killed someone.” Shiro answered between laughs. “Never expected you to act this way over a little old kids, anyone would think it was… wait a second.” Shiro peered at him for a second before putting his hand on his shoulders “Keith Kogane was that your first kiss?” He asked quietly, his voice and face masked in neutrality.
Keith hesitated before finally nodding.
Shiro’s grip tightened and a forced smile appeared on his face. “Really? And this random hot shot took it?” The casual tone sounded so forced that Keith found himself cringing.
“He’s not some random guy.”
“So then why have you never mentioned him before?” Shiro asked.
“Well erm… cause we never really talked and stuff.” Keith shrugged pretending not to mind when Shiro’s grip became a little painful.
“Oh.” Was all he said.
“Oh?” Keith questioned.
“Yes oh…” Shiro dropped his hand to his lap thinking for a moment. “I’ll talk to you later, I need to think over something.”
Keith watched in concern as his bother stumbled out of the room mumbling to himself.
———————————–
“Allura I kissed Keith!” Lance yelled wheeling his chair into his oldest sisters room.
She was lying on her stomach across her bed messing around on her laptop.
“Jeez Lance ever learn how to knock.” She sighed sitting up to look at him.
“No time! I kissed Keith! Keith Kogane!” He yelled.
Allura’s eyes widened “oh… my… god…”
“I know!”
“You kissed the guy you declared your rival!”
“I know!”
“The guy you’ve had a crush on for like ever!”
“I know!”
“You had your first kiss with your dream guy!”
“I KNOW!”
At this point Allura had jumped up and was kneeling in front of Lance. “Ok tell me everything!”
Lance explained how he had broken his leg and Keith helped him get home and in the spur of the moment he decided to kiss him before slamming the door in his face so he could hide behind Leo for a few hours.
Allura listened growing increasingly more excited.
“Ok I’m taking you to school tomorrow!” She decided. “Your cars in the shot anyway, and it’s not like you can walk to school. Plus I gotta make sure he’s good enough for my little bro.”
She hugged him making Lance squirm pretending not to enjoy her hugs when in fact he loved them. “Allurrrrrra.” He moaned pushing her away.
———————————–
The next morning Keith was in the kitchen having breakfast when Shiro walked down in his sleepless tank top that he only ever wore when he wanted people to notice just how ripped her was.
“I’m coming to school with you. And before you say no I’m gonna say that I don’t care what you have to say. I need to go down their anyway and this has nothing to do with this Lance boy.”
Keith wasn’t convinced but knew arguing would be pointless.
So that’s how Keith found himself stuck with his brother leaning against the bonnet of his car in the parking lot looking for anyone that fit Lance’s description.
“Shiro seriously stop.” Keith rolled his eyes as Shiro glared at yet another tall skinny tanned boy.
“Not until I meet this boy, I just want a chat.”
Keith groaned. He knew this would happen.
“Keith!”
The two whipped their heads round to see a tall woman running directly towards them.
Shiro blushed, he would know that beautiful white hair anywhere.
Allura came to a stop just short of running into the two and was smiling.
“Lance is in the office and I figured I would let you know. I’m sure the two of you have a lot to talk about.”
Keith paled slightly “whys he in the office? Is he ok?” He asked a little too quickly to sound casual.
Allura nodded waving him off with her hand “oh yes he is perfectly fine, just needed to change his class schedule so he doesn’t have to go up any stairs until his prosthetic’s repaired.”
Keith didn’t wait for anymore information and instead took off running leaving the two adults alone.
“It’s good to see you again Shiro, I heard you got back but didn’t have your number.”
Shiro swallowed “oh yeah… erm so you know Lance?”
Allura laughed “I would hope so, he is my little brother after all.”
Shiro helped whatever god was looking out for him that he didn’t end up yelling at his crushes little brother right in front of her. “Oh. I never realised.”
“Not many do, Lance was adopted after he lost his parents in the same accident that cost him his legs, it’s been hard for him. But I’m sure you understand better then anyone what losing a limb is like.
Shiro was silent. He hadn’t realised Lance was like him.
“Yeah I do.”

—————————————- Part 1: https://langsty-mc-langstface.tumblr.com/post/160205940560/one-foot-in-the-grave
It’s a [Tinder] Date! (Part 3/3)

Summary: Thinking he needs to find a date, Natasha signs Steve up to Tinder. In Queens, Peter Parker does the same to you. It’s a match!

Word Count: 3,405

Part 1 Part 2

A/N: Almost a month later, but this fic is officially done :D I hope you all enjoy this fluffiness. 

Originally posted by mackievanstan


Work managed to distract you enough to not keep looking at the clock every five minutes. Despite part of your brain telling you that there was no way you had a date with Captain America, there was another part that couldn’t help but to hope this was true. And so, you found yourself daydreaming of showing up to the restaurant and seeing him there. What would you even say to him? What kind of greeting would you use? Would you address him as Captain, or maybe Mr. Rogers, or just Steve?

By the time you got home, you had a few outfit options in mind and made a beeline to the bathroom, taking a shower before you got started on getting ready.

Peter came around as you were choosing between four different outfits you had draped on your bed. He helped you picked the one that was form-fitting, waggling his eyebrows playfully.

“We gotta tease him,” he said.

Keep reading

Good F*ck

SUMMARY - You tell about your frustrations about not ever having good sex to Nat and Wanda and Bucky overhears .

WORDS- 1.8K(approx)

A/N - Taw @supersoldierslover I love you . Thank you so much . 

WARNINGS- cursing , dirty talk, fingering , unprotected sex (just use a fucking condom pls) also very sexual gif of lance tucker below(definitely a warning).

Originally posted by blurredmelancholy

“Fuuuck….” , you groan hitting your head lightly to the coffee table but enough to get your friends Nat and Wanda to notice you .

“What is it now? “Nat asked nonchalantly , used to your sudden outburst of frustration .

“I just…I… I feel empty.” You say looking helplessly at the two of them .
Both their expression changed to one of sympathy .

“Y/N , I understand . I feel that way too sometimes . With the job we have we are….”Wanda starts before you interrupt her .

“Nooo , you don’t understand . That’s not what I am trying to say .I just …” You throw your hands in the air and let out a whine.

“What is Y/N?”  Nat asked a little irritated.

“I just need to be dicked okay . Like fucked so good that I see the fucking stars and pass out . Arghhh!!!!!”

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Barry Allen secretly having a crush on you would include...

Originally posted by itsacoffeeshop

(Not my gif)

  • Antisocial buddies
  • “I need friends”
  • “Same” ;
  • Adorable hugs ;
  • If you ever get insecure he’d be there and tell you that you are the most beautiful person on this earth
  • and every other earth he has visited
  • and that’s a lot of earths;
  • You secretly stealing his t-shirts and hoodies like:
  • “Y/N, is that my shirt?”
  • “What, no. I-I bought that last week”
  • “……It’s a double your size…..”
  • “SHUT UP” ;
  • Him bringing three boxes of donuts because he needs to eat double your meal
  • and maybe a pizza box
  • and fries ; 
  • He thinks you look adorable all the time;
  • Late night talks. ;
  • Watching old movies.
  • and mayyyybeee cuddle
  • Him acting as if that never happened because he blushes like mad when you mention it
  • Falling asleep with your head on his chest.
  • Him waking up first
  • always
  • reMARKING HOW GOOD YOU LOOK ;
  • “Can you give me my-”
  • him bringing it from the other end of the house in 0.00000001 sec.
  • he would do anything for you tbh ;
  • “Y/N!” 
  • “What?”
  • “I have something for you”
  • Him handing you a batarang
  • “HOW DID YOU GET THAT OH MY GOD!!!!”
  • “I just had to ask”
  • “Haha, you didn’t just say ‘Can i keep this?’ right?”
  • “….” ;
  • Him in fear of ruining your friendship because of his crush
  • So he hides it;
  • NEARLY SAYING ‘I LOVE YOU’ ONCE
  • YOU WERE BASICALLY DRESSED IN HIS HOODIE AND YOUR HAIR WAS MESSY. YOU JUST WOKE UP FROM 7 HOURS OF SLEEP
  • AND HE SAID ‘You are adorable”
  • BUT THEN HE NEARLY SAID IT
  • HE NEARLY SAID ‘I LOVE YOU’ ;
  • Raging at video games
  • “YOU ARE NOT WINING THIS! YOU ARE NOT WINING THIS! YOU.ARE.NOT.WINING.THIS! “
  • and then he wins
  • and you facepalm ;
  • PIGGY BACK RIDES ;
  • “Do you remember how i told you about my powers?”
  • “Oh, you mean the “OHMAGODOHMAGODOHMAGOD I’M SUPER FAST” thing. Yep, i remember.” ;
  • Barry telling Bruce and Diana about his crush on you
  • them trying to set you two up
  • “Hey Barry?” Diana says
  • “Yeah?”
  • “Why don’t you ask Y/N on a date”
  • You standing like 3-4 meters away
  • “W-what?” you say frozen
  • “…….DIANA WHY”
  • Barry Allen exposed
  • you say yes

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Days of the week (smut)

Words: 1148

Warning: Smut

Reader x All the members

A/N:  This is a special smut that contains 8 parts, this is the first one and does not have smut yet

Days of the week l Monday - Jin l   Days of the week: Tuesday - Yoongi l


Originally posted by sweaterpawsjimin

 Everything started with a fan meeting. Everything started only with that.  You were nothing but just a fan, a fan who never thought that all that would happen. Once you went there, your life changed.

  You were there, waiting for your turn to see them, to talk to them, to give them gifts. You couldn’t be more anxious, you had been waiting for that moment all life. And finally, your turn came. You talked to them, one by one, sharing smiles and compliments. In the end of the FM, when you were about to leave – it was already empty, you wanted to stay there the most you could - someone stopped you. You turned around, and a big man was standing behind you.

“Can I help you?” you asked politely, and kinda scared.

“Come with me, please” the man said. He must be one of the securities, and your stomach started to burn up. What did you have done? Why was he calling you? What the fuck. The man took you to the backstage and while you walked thru the hallway, no one seemed to pay attention on you both. The man stopped in front of a door and looked at you.

 “I am the boys’ bodyguard. They are right inside this room” he said. Namjoon, Jin, Jungkook, Taehyung, Jimin, Yoongi and Hoseok were right there? What was gonna happen?

“They want to talk to you” You felt your body tensing up; you felt your heart stopping. What… the…fuck…? They want to talk to me? Oh my… “But I have to check you before”.

When he finished checking you, he looked at you again.

“And one more thing… You have to assign something” he said and gave you a paper.

Confidentiality Term?

“What is this for?”

“You can’t see them if you don’t assign this” He said.

Right.

You did as he said.

“You can go in”.

And just this way, he opened the door, and there they were. The youngest ones were sat, while the hyungs were standing. You entered into the room, your body shaking while you heard the door being closed.

“Hello” Namjoon said, “nice to meet you again” he said. Oh ma.

“H-hi, oh my God” you said, voice trembling.  You looked at their faces; they were looking at you as if you were an animal in a zoo, smiling cockily. They said a “hi” in unison.

“Don’t be nervous. What’s your name again?” he asked. Of course they don’t remember, they knew a lot of fans today.

“Y/N” you answered, blushing.

“And how old are you?” Jin asked. You almost lost your conscience because of the sound of his voice.

 “I am 18”.

 What was happening? What did they want? And whatever they wanted, why me? You must be dreaming. You were not in a room with the boys of BTS.

“Hum… old enough”.

They kept talking to you, asking things and you just answered, not daring to ask what was happening. But minutes later, maybe hours, you didn’t know, after a lot of conversation, the boys told you to sit.

“You are really beautiful, you know?” Taehyung said, making you wide your eyes. His deep voice did send you shiver. His lips… oh.

“Huh, t-thank you” you said, your face probably redder than a tomato.

“You are single?” Jin asked.

 “Yes” you answered.

“Well, Y/N. We gotta say that the fact you are wonderful is seen by all of us. Not just wonderful…You are hot too…” Namjoon said, his voice deepened as he said “hot”, looking you up and down. Your heart rushed. Did Namjoon say you were hot? Nah… Taehyung sat beside you, and your body tensioned. He seemed to notice because he smirked cockily.

“Are you nervous?” he asked. You nodded.

“Why Am I here? Did I do something wrong?” you asked shyly. They laughed.

 “Of course you didn’t, baby girl. Tell us… as a fan… you think we are hot, don’t you?” Yoongi said.

What?

“O-of course I do” you said, blushing and looking down.  You felt Taehyung getting closer to you.

“And would you like to kiss me?” he asked, putting his arms around you. Oh my God that couldn’t be happening. Not with you. He got closer, his lips touching your ear, “would you like to touch me? Would you want me to…” he said, his hands flew to your thighs, squeezing at it and making you jump by the sudden touch, “Fuck you, hard and good?”

 The world stopped to you. You looked at him by the moment he said that. Did he say…did he ask…? Shit. You looked at the boys and they didn’t seem to be surprised. They didn’t act. They just stayed there, waiting for you to answer. You were so chocked that you didn’t realize Jimin had sat in your other side.

“Wouldn’t you want me to suck on your clit?” he said, his hand on your other thigh, getting up toward your breast, “or your boobs”

You got up immediately. What the fuck are you doing? Don’t. You didn’t know what to do.

 “We are sorry… sorry” Taehyung said, now apparently worried because of your reaction “We shouldn’t have touched you, we are sorry. You can go if you want”

No way.

“Why did you call me?” you asked. “That’s what I want to know”.

 “We liked you. We want you” Jin said simply. You looked at their faces again and noticed that Jungkook was the only one who wasn’t talked yet. So he is really shy.

“All you?” you asked shyly, looking at Jungkook.

“Yes, all of us” Jungkook said, making you surprised again. He was so fucking cute. They kept there, waiting for you to say something, anything.

 “I… I don’t think I understand” you said. What did they want? To fuck you all at once?

 “We are seven. There are seven days a week. We want you. That’s it. But if you don’t want to, you can go. But remember you can’t tell this to anyone” Namjoon said.

You thought about it… You wanted of course, but that was so sudden.

“You won’t live with us or something… We are staying here for 2 more weeks, and then we leave. You’ll go to our hotel room to see us when we call you and that’s it. Don’t think you are a slut because of it. You will be just a girl who wants to fuck her idols. Her idols who want to fuck her too”

That’s enough.

“Yes” you said.

“What?” Jimin and Hoseok asked, this time surprised.

“Yes. Let’s do that”  

Did I just accept?

 All of sudden, Jin walked towards you and grabbed your waist, pushing you back till your back hit the wall. He licked your earlobe while squeezing your butt with both his hands and whispered:

“Tomorrow is Monday. I am the first one”

lunaaltare  asked:

Imagine Steve, after a rough battle, being stuck in the hospital. He's high off whatever the doctors gave him and loopy as hell. Whenever Sam visits, Steve hopelessly tries to flirt with him and the moment Sam tells him they're married already, Steve's basically sobbing.

“Did it hurt?” Steve slurs.

“What? You’re the one that fell off a building and then got shot.”

“When you fell from heaven.”

Sam starts laughing, “Oh my god.”

“‘M serious!” Steve says, trying to sit up a little before Sam pushes him back down gently with a hand on on his chest. “You look like an angel. You even have a halo!”

“Steve I think that’s just the painkillers talking.”

“Nuh-uh. I see it. Right there.” Steve reaches up and accidentally pokes Sam in the eye. “Oh no! Oh no! I hurt you. Come here. Let me kiss it and make it better.”

“You’re just trying to get a kiss out of me.”

“Well can you blame me? You’re so cute. Really cute, you are. An angel sent down from heaven just to keep me company.”

“You’re awful,” Sam tells him, still laughing.

“Who’s the lucky guy that gets to kiss on you? I wish it were me. How can it be me? Tell me, Sam. What do I gotta do to get a guy like you?”

“Well you’re in luck,” Sam says, reaching out to take Steve’s hand. He picks up Steve’s left hand and shows it to him. “See that wedding band?” Then he holds up his left hand too.

“Crap,” Steve says, making a really distressed face. “I’m married? Oh no. My husband is going to kill me for flirting with you.”

“Man, what did they give you? Holy shit. You’re married to me, asshole. You’re my husband.”

Steve’s eyes get so big that Sam’s actually afraid they might just fall out of his head. “We’re married!?”

“Yes, Steve. We’re married.”

“It’s me?! You’re my husband?! I get to kiss on you! I have an angel for a husband!” Steve’s body starts to practically melt back into the hospital bed. He keeps a tight hold on Sam’s hand and closes his eyes. “How did I pull that one off?”

Sam brings their joined hands up to his mouth and presses a soft kiss to Steve’s knuckles. “I have no idea.”

Kiwi: Part One

A little impromptu mini-series based in Jamaica during the writing/recording of Harry’s new album. Enjoy. xo



The music in the bar was pounding as the sounds of the Caribbean flowed through the humid air. It was a small establishment, one that could probably only accommodate for two hundred people at most. It definitely wasn’t a tourist place; most of those were on the other side of the island with the copious amounts of resorts and hotels that offered travellers sanctuary.

Harry wasn’t there to vacation, though. He was there to write and record his new album.

The bar, “Pipo’s Shack”, was about a ten minute walk from the recording studio that Harry had been working in for the past little bit. It had been a productive couple of days; he’d spent the first night there having a few beers and getting to know his team better. After all, they were going to be working together until this thing was done, so they might as well be comfortable with one another. They all got along splendidly, and the handful of songs they’d managed to bang out so far were promising, but not quite right yet. After a couple of days of straight work, Harry decided that he needed a night off to himself.

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The Things We Fear

This was a lot gayer than I thought it would be. I owe the outline of the first part to @thesickficsideblog, but I kinda ran away with it at the end. I swear, it wasn’t supposed to be Klance, but my hand slipped. I’ll put it on ao3 later.

Summar: Lance gets trapped in a room full of fear gas, and the team can’t do anything but watch.

Implied/referenced torture

Keep reading

Azriel + Elain. I ship it. Hear me out (ACOWAR spoilers).

I have a theory that Azriel and Elain are ultimately going to end up together. I hated myself for it at first because I was kind of pulling for Lucien (poor Lucien), but now that I’ve put together the below evidence, I am 100% on board. 

We all know that SJM is the queen of foreshadowing. She plants hints books in advance, and we don’t realize it was foreshadowing until after the truth has been revealed and you’re like duh this was SO OBVIOUS BECAUSE SHE BASICALLY TOLD US WITHOUT TELLING US (a few examples: Feyre being Rhys’ mate, Rowan being Aelin’s).

So, Azriel and Elain. Yes, I know Elain has a mate. Yes, I know that at the end of ACOWAR, all signs were pointing towards Elain giving him a chance. But I think that’s all it’s going to be. A chance. 

Now let’s dig into the evidence. After finishing ACOWAR, I (obviously) had to re-read the whole series, now that I knew how it all turned out. 

In ACOMAF, I came across the following passage on p. 487:

Nesta. I painted flames for her. She was always angry, always burning. I think that she and Amren would be fast friends. I think she would like Velaris, despite herself. And I think Elain - Elain would like it, too. Though she’d probably cling to Azriel, just to have some peace and quiet. I smiled at the thought - at how handsome they would be together. If the warrior ever stopped quietly loving Mor.

After having read ACOWAR, we know that Nesta and Amren became fast friends. We know that despite herself, she definitely likes Velaris. And we know that Elain clings to Azriel - that he was gentle with her, and kind. All of that passage came true. What struck me weirdly about it was that next sentence - I smiled at the thought - at how handsome they would be together. If the warrior ever stopped quietly loving Mor. Knowing what we know now about Mor, I think it’s safe to assume that in the near future, Mor will tell Azriel the truth. And when that happens…he’ll (hopefully) eventually open up his heart to someone else.

Once those sentences had grabbed my attention, when I was re-reading ACOWAR, all of the Azriel/Elain scenes just…made sense. He’s kind to her. Gentle. He sits with her when she’s in the garden. He walks with her arm wrapped around his. He carries her when she’s too weak to walk herself. There’s a fair amount of evidence that I could pull together, but to spare you from this post being absurdly long, I’m just asking you to trust me on the little moments.

Two more scenes that I do want to dissect, however. The first one being when Rhys explains how you can reject a mating bond - it’s a long passage, so I’m only going to include the highlights (p.257):

“You said your mother and father were wrong for each other; Tamlin said his own parents were wrong for each other….so it can’t be a perfect system of matching. What if -” I jerked my chin toward the window, to my sister and the shadowsinger in the garden - “that is what she needs? Is there no free will? What if Lucien wishes the union but she doesn’t?”

….

“Sometimes, the bond is nothing more than some…preordained guesswork at who will provide the strongest offspring. At its basest level, it’s perhaps only that….Only years later will they realize that perhaps the pairing was not ideal in spirit.”

Rhys goes on to explain how you can reject the bond but it can drive the male mad. At this point, my brain was screaming !!!!!!!!! at me. 1) because SJM is the queen of foreshadowing and if she included this discussion, she included it for a reason and 2) Feyre literally is like ummmm hi, I think Azriel could be a better match.

Finally, the last piece of evidence I will include, is the scene where Azriel hands Elain truth-teller. This scene is so important, so pivotal, that is even included in the A Court of Thorns and Roses coloring book. If you own the coloring book, you know that the scenes in there have huge significance to the story. Again this scene is a bit long to include, but highlights below, after he gently presses her hand into the hilt of the legendary blade (p.610):

“Cassian gawked at Azriel, and I wondered how often Azriel had lent out that blade - 

Never, Rhys said from where he finished buckling on his own weapons against the side of the wagon. I have never once seen Azriel let another person touch that knife

Elain looked up at Azriel, their eyes meeting, his hand still lingering on the hilt of the blade. I saw the painting in the mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection…that knife.”

I don’t think there’s much to say other than OH MY GOD THAT PASSAGE I SHIP IT.

IN CONCLUSION (I’m sorry this post was so long but I needed to include evidence to back up this kind of crazy theory), I think that Elain and/or Lucien will end up rejecting the bond. If I had to make a really crazy guess, I’m going to predict that Lucien ends up being Helion’s heir (and therefore moving to his court), and because he is decent, he realizes that Elain will want to stay with her sister’s in the Night Court. Because he recognizes that maybe they aren’t a true match in spirit, he will let her go. And then boom, that leaves the door open for Azriel + Elain. The end.

Let me know your thoughts!!