{{ @iinsanityiscontagious }}

It was hotter than expected for this time of year, and as a result, Spirit was–well, a mess.

He never dealt with heat well, partially because he was insistent on wearing a black suit to work every single day (Shinigami-sama had never actually given him a dress code, but Spirit always assumed that if you were going to be working in the presence of a literal God you should at least try to dress nicely?), partially because his skin heated up at even the slightest bit of discomfort, so hot days were pretty hellish for him.

So, on days like today, when he was at home, he found himself wearing minimal clothing. Today, he was at Stein’s place, lounging around in nothing but a pair of boxers, his hair tied back into a messy bun. He didn’t really think much of his appearance (Stein had seen him in much less, after all), until he glanced over, and saw Stein staring at him with a pretty strange look on his face.

“…What?” Spirit asked, reaching up to wipe his forehead with the back of his hand. “Is there something on my face?”

0n-y0ur-left  asked:

The "Don't tell anyone you saw me crying" AU sounds super promising!

The best part of Steve’s day is, generally when he gets to go eat lunch in the abandoned teacher’s office on the third floor. It’s quiet up there, and it’s not so dusty now that one of the custodians noticed him hanging out there and comes around to clean it up every so often. So, all in all, not a bad place to quietly eat his lunch, do some homework, and maybe get a bit of drawing done, if he’s up to it.

Except today, apparently.

After the bell rings and fifth period starts, Steve makes his way up to the abandoned teacher’s lounge. He’s got a cheese sandwich, apple slices and a can of Diet Sprite that he’s excited to eat, and a drawing of one of his classmates — a guy who probably doesn’t even know Steve exists, let alone would want Steve drawing him, but that’s the one good thing about being invisible — that he’s excited to finish up. But when he gets to his abandoned teacher’s office, he hears someone…

Well, he hears someone crying.

Still, it’s his abandoned teacher’s office — he doesn’t have much else to take ownership of at this school, so he’ll take what he can get — so he enters anyway.

“What the hell?” Bucky Barnes says, furiously wiping off his face with the sleeve of his henley.

“Oh, uh,” Steve says, clutching the sketchbook that has an in-progress drawing of Bucky Freaking Barnes in it tight.

“Come to laugh at me?” Bucky asks with a rueful chuckle.

“What? No,” Steve says, maybe a little fiercer than he should.

“Then what?” Bucky asks.

“I eat lunch here every day,” Steve says, straightening up. He may only be five foot four and weigh the same as a wet dachshund, but that doesn’t mean that he can’t be intimidating!

He does wish that his beanie would quit sliding down his head and hiding his eyebrows. Having visible eyebrows would probably help the intimidating factor.

“You eat… here?” Bucky asks, looking around the dim room like he’s really seeing it for the first time. He grimaces.

Steve pushes his beanie back. “You’re here crying!” Steve argues.

“Yeah, but I’ve only been here a couple times. You’re here every day.”

Steve scoffs. “Are you trying to contest who of the two of us is less pathetic, because that’s probably a pretty easy fight.”

“What do you mean by that?” Bucky asks, voice getting louder.

“You have everything — friends, football, popularity. I just want to eat my cheese sandwich and listen to my iPod during lunchtime without having to confront crying jocks.”

Bucky stares at him for a moment, then his face screws up. “I’m s-s-sorry,” he says, starting to cry again.

“Oh jeez,” Steve says, shutting the door behind him and taking a few steps across the room, closer to the desk Bucky is sitting at. “Don’t… Cry, okay? I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“You didn’t… it’s not your fault,” Bucky says, burying his face in his hands.

Steve drops his backpack and kneels down, digging through it. After about forty seconds, he emerges victorious with a half-used pack of tissues. “Here,” he says, handing them out to Bucky.

Bucky looks up at him with wide, bloodshot eyes. “Really?” he asks. Steve nods. Bucky reaches out and takes the tissues from him. “Thanks,” he says, pulling one free from the package and loudly blowing his nose.

“No problem,” Steve says, trying not to be grossed out, though he can’t help but cringe a little when Bucky looks back up with a line of snot dripping out of his nose. “You oughta…” he says, gesturing to his nose.

“Shit,” Bucky says, wiping his nose again.

“Then again, if you’re sporting snot, I’m sure the rest of the school will follow,” Steve says, hoping he doesn’t sound as bitter as he feels.

Bucky shakes his head. “You don’t get it,” he says. “I’m not… It’s not like that.”

“That’s not what it looks from the outside,” Steve says, quiet.

Bucky gives him a little half-smile. “I’m just gonna tell you this because I feel like this abandoned teacher’s lounge is a safe, trustworthy space, okay? And because I feel like you won’t blab to a bunch of people, but everyone fuckin’ hates me.”

“Really?” Steve asks, deadpan.

Bucky nods. “It’s… Well, they may not think they hate me, but they do.”

“Please don’t tell me it’s because you’re too beautiful. If you do, I may scream,” Steve says and is rewarded when Bucky laughs.

“You’re spitfire,” he says. “Anyhow, I’m gay, and they’d fuckin’ hate me if they knew.”

There’s a long pause.

“You’re gay?” Steve asks.

Bucky nods, mouth flattening. “It feels real weird to say it out loud,” he admits.

Steve’s mouth drops. “I’m the first person you’ve told?” he asks, surprised.

Bucky shrugs. “I don’t got anyone to tell. My old man’s a homophobic asswipe who’d kick my ass if he knew, and it’s not like I’m gonna tell the guys on the football team that I like guys. They’d take turns kickin’ my ass and leave me a bloody lump on the field.”

Swallowing hard, Steve takes a seat close to Bucky’s. “That’s… a lot,” he says.

“I know,” Bucky says. “Which is why I feel justified to stay in this abandoned teacher’s lounge and cry for a bit, if you don’t mind.”

There’s a long pause.

“Can I eat my sandwich while you do so?”

Bucky snorts. “Sure,” he says. “Let’s live it up. Cheese sandwiches and tears, quite the couple.”

Steve shrugs. “I’ve seen worse,” he says, pulling his sandwich from his backpack and splitting it in half. “Want some?” he asks, holding it out to Bucky.

“Sure,” Bucky says, grabbing the sandwich and taking a huge bite.

— —

“Hey,” Bucky says as the bell for sixth period rings.

“Yeah?” Steve says, packing his stuff up.

“Wanna do this again tomorrow? Maybe without the crying?”

Steve smiles. “Sure,” he says.

— —

In a week, Bucky is letting Steve draw him.

In a month, Steve is letting Bucky kiss him.

In a year, they walk around their college campus hand-in-hand.

bromanceshmomance replied to your post “How do we know that they shared a milkshake?? Are there any receipts?”

i believe that the woman who served them at the window told her daughter (who was a fan) that louis had ordered the milkshake or at least took it from her and drank out of it and then passed it over to harry.

So I’ve been talking to @evenandsana​ about all the glorious POC interracial couples that Skam could give us, and…this happened? 

One day at home, Isak’s like “it’s really tiring being the only gay around here” as he’s lounging on their couch, and Sana snorts loudly as she demolishes Jonas with her third headshot. Eva cheers, and Even kisses Sana’s cheek in celebration. Isak rubs Jonas’s shoulder consolingly. Jonas says, “where did you learn your video gaming skills from??” and Elias jumps over the couch with some chips, plops next to Eskild and kisses his cheek loudly and says “she learned from the master.” and Eskild smiles fondly, while Yousef yells from across the room , “yeah the master of LOSING” and mahdi snorts and rubs Jonas’ curls and says “that’s another thing you have in common” while Mikael is confirming to Yousef that Elias was indeed properly burned. and Eskild finally realizes what Isak’s said and says “excuse me, you’ve been gay for 5 minutes you don’t get to claim the Only Gay title” and Isak’s like “well, if you ever came over, you could have it but alas i have to pick up the slack!” and Yousef’s like “idk my dude i’m pretty gay” and Isak says, “yeah but i’m a Real Gay. a Full Gay.” and Even shoves him and says “that’s a toxic idea, bisexuals aren’t 50% gay” and Sana points at Eva and says “trust me my thoughts are all types of gay.” and Elias groans and so does mahdi. and Yousef says “no but i’m like… gay.” and then pauses and says “i’ve never really said that out loud before. i’m really gay.” and Mikael is beaming at him, and so is Mutta, from sitting next to his best bud (possibly queerplatonic partner) Adam and Isak sits up and says “WOO GAY SOLIDARITY!” and Eskild says “LOOK WHO’S THE NEW BABY GAY!” and Isak says “boys are so great” and Yousef feels free enough to say it, so he says “I LOVE BOYS” and Eskild raises a glass and says “I LOVE BOYS” and isak, Even, jonas, mikael and mahdi, elias and adam follow suit. Eva snorts and raises her glass and says “TO GIRLS!” and Sana raises her champagne flute of apple juice (it’s CLASSY, eva. you put ice in your wine!) and says “GIRLS!” and Vilde does the same, and everyone laughs and cheers. and Mutta raises his glass and says “TO LOVING MY FRIENDS! and sometimes adam” and everyone coos, as Sana obliterates mahdi as well.

WiP Wednesday

He slams the doors on whatever cheerful single entendre Christophe is about to say under the guise of being helpful, then leans back against them, eyes falling shut. For just a moment, Victor allows himself the luxury of feeling his own heart roar in his breast, of relearning the pathways his blood takes to pool and pound in his ears, of giving into the compulsion to clench his fists around the hilt of a broadsword, or a neck — all familiar on the field of battle. Enduring it all now without the bloodthirst is awful.

Exhaling shakily, he opens his eyes and finds he is not alone.

Lounging on Victor’s bed, sprawled out as though he were still the greedy brat from years ago demanding Victor read him another story before being kicked out in favor of sleep, Yuri gives him a black look over the edge of the parchment clutched like prey in his hands.

There’s no sense in delaying the inevitable, so Victor smiles and waves his hand; an invitation. “All right. Let’s hear it.”

Yuri clears his throat so loudly that it feels like an expletive, then begins grandly, “His royal highness, Viktor Maxim Ivan Vladimir Karl Alexander Sergei Nikolai Ilya H —” Yuri pauses, then barks a laugh. “‘Hermann’.”

“Hermann,” Victor confirms, sighing. There’s one in every family.

… Pyotr Gleb… is giving a ball.” Yuri sneers, teeth bared like a tiger. How anyone could believe him to be a spectre born of ice and swan’s feathers is a mystery lost to the ages. “’… All eligible lords and ladies are invited to attend…’ I hope you aren’t under the impression that I’m going to be present for this farce.”

“Will you not support your brother in his time of great need?”

Yuri gives an inelegant snort. “I’ll be too busy moving my things into your room. You won’t need it after the unwashed masses finish tearing you to shreds in hopes of claiming a piece of you. I think my bookcases will look splendid against the wall over there.”

“You really won’t go?”

“I’d rather be drawn and quartered.”

In the face of Yuri’s familiar mulishness, the urge to shout I am not a prize —ever since his mother turned upon him a chilly stare and announced he was to sign his life away to a stranger by the ball’s end or she would find a suitable spouse for him (”If you do not do this, my dear, your father might actually deny you the crown and live forever just to spite us both, and I refuse to give him the satisfaction.”)— ebbs like the tide, and Victor relaxes into a real smile. “That is too bad. I hear the good Hero of Kazakhstan means to attend.”

Yuri goes still and says, flat as sword and twice as sharp, “Prince Otabek is coming.”

“So I’ve been told.” Victor shrugs off his jacket with not a little relief. Despite the slide of summer into autumn, the sun shows no sign of relenting its heavy hold on the kingdom. “Last we spoke, he was all talk of you… insomuch as he talks, which isn’t very. You must have made an impression at the trade negotiations, but if your aim is to be elsewhere the night of this idiocy, I will send along my apologies so he does not make a needless trip —”

There’s a sudden flurry of movement as Yuri rolls off the bed and spills to the floor, and Victor can do little except step aside as his brother blasts by and kicks the doors open. 

“So… shall I expect to see you there?”

Yuri sniffs and tilts his chin up just a bit in a bid to look aloof. All it serves to do is catch the light on the red flush in his cheeks. “I suppose I can find it within me to witness our dear parents set you upon the auction block, if only so I can laugh myself sick when some country bumpkin covered in pig shit wins you.”

Victor grins. “Otabek will be pleased to see you.”

The flush deepens to scarlet. Yuri turns his face away, but not fast enough to hide the small smile there. “I hope they give you to an actual pig.”


before they were dating justin would always try to subtly get alex to take off clothes like “alex wanna go for a swim” “those aren’t high waisted sweatpants, standall, you can tug them down a little” or maybe he accidentally walks in on alex in the locker rooms (too many times) and perhaps alex would notice and one day he lounges around bryce’s pool shirtless (i like to believe bryce went to jail but justin and the guys still crash around there bc bryces parents were never home anyways and the maids like them) but instead of loving shirtless alex justin’s a bit jealous that everyone else can see alex half naked and (after a beer or two) sweeps alex away inside the pool house away from the guys which makes alex ????? but justin, once they are out of sight, just reaches his hand out to touch the fragile boys chest and curling both hands possessively around his sides and just letting his hands guide him up and down “you’re a skinny motherfucker” “you suck at flirting” an then justin laughs n he leans forward to kiss alex who obviously obliges