otp bingo

break your heart to make it bigger

Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

Summary:

“I could pretend to be him,” Steve says, like he’s reading Tony’s mind. He’s still smiling, almost content. “Just for tonight. Is that what you’d like, Tony? He’d be so gentle with you.“

Thanks for beta to @comicsohwhyohwhy!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, TONY. Mind the warnings, everyone.

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teen wolf au meme: [7/8] movies - legally blonde
(also for the pink square on my teen wolf bingo card)

When Lydia’s boyfriend, Jackson Whittemore, breaks up with her because she’s not “serious,” she applies and is accepted to Harvard in an attempt to win him back. But things get more complicated - first when she learns of his engagement, and second when she meets charming, sarcastic lawyer Cora.

knew the pathway, like the back of my hand

Natsume/Tanuma // canon compliant // accidental hand holding // 1.7k // sfw

Summary: 'Tanuma doesn’t trust himself to speak. A gust of wind rustles their clothes, toys with the lettuce leaf Fujiwara included in Natsume’s lunch for decoration. Gradually, their surroundings come into focus, and Tanuma stiffens like he’s been caught red-handed.

Because, in a way, he has. 

His fingers rest on top of Natsume’s right hand, barely skimming his knuckles.‘ 

or: Tanuma reflects on his relationship with Natsume, wants to tell him how he’s feeling, and accidentally holds his hand in the process.

(my second bingo winner fic! this time for the incredible @nannaseharu! hope you enjoy!!)

Admitting you have feelings for someone isn’t easy.

As a matter of fact, it’s one of the toughest things Tanuma Kaname has ever had to do. Coming to terms with a crush is not a simple ‘yes, I have feelings for this person’ kind of revelation. Earth-shattering is a far more fitting word. It’s the sort of epiphany capable of changing everything in the blink of an eye.

And, as if it weren’t bad enough, he has feelings for his friend.

Best friend, if he’s being completely honest with himself. Because before Natsume Takashi came along, Tanuma hardly spoke to any of his classmates. He didn’t dislike any of them. No, he was what his father called ‘reserved.’ A bit of a loner.

That is until Natsume happened. He’s the one who helped break Tanuma out of his shell and therein lies the root of the problem.

How could Tanuma not like the boy who brought him companionship on a silver platter? Natsume isn’t much of a social butterfly himself, but he has great friends. Thoughtful, compassionate, loyal. And, as Tanuma has learned from experience, Natsume cares fiercely for anyone he deems a good person—whether they’re still alive or not.

Tanuma worries every time Natsume gets involved with a new youkai. While most are kind-hearted and mean no harm, there have also been many who lured Natsume into… unpleasant situations. As someone who can’t see spirits, Tanuma doesn’t necessarily feel useful when youkai come to Natsume for assistance. It drives him crazy, speculating about all of the horrible things that may face Natsume.  Even on the rare occasions Tanuma is told what’s happening, he still fears for his friend’s safety.

Throw in Natsume’s glaringly obvious protectiveness and, well… they make quite the pair.

But that’s just it! The mutual concern for each other’s well-being and emotional support they provide one another, the unspoken desire to keep the other safe and smiling—it’s all too much for Tanuma. He’s never had anyone like Natsume in his life.

So, when the realization strikes that maybe, just maybe, he might care for Natsume as more than a friend, it won’t leave him alone.

It’s like a shift in the tectonic plates, a crack in the surface Natsume has slowly been chipping at, been widening, for months. Eventually, he’ll push the rest of the way through and discover the truth. And Tanuma refuses to let him do so before he can tell Natsume himself.

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anonymous asked:

arikane, post v14 with the somebody needs a hug prompt?

Someone does need a hug … 


“The reports say that you’ve reached somewhat of a stability mentally. You’re no longer crying or refusing to eat?” Arima closed the file in front of him on the table where he met Prisoner 240 every few days now and directed his gaze to the prisoner’s eyes. They had healed now, and were a beautiful gray color similar to his own. He had been surprised to see that, but it was clear that the shade of gray in Prisoner 240′s gaze held a light that Arima’s hadn’t for some time …

“ … Yes, the books you brought helped me.” The prisoner nodded with the tiniest of smiles and then looked away, eyes searching around the room as he continued to speak,  “When I’m reading, I can forget what is happening, and I can forget where I am … Honestly, I don’t even remember why I was crying at night in the first place.” He visibly shivered. 

“ … ?” Arima regarded him thoughtfully. What the half-ghoul was saying was certainly possible, but the implications that someone would willingly forget their own identity was a bitter pill to swallow.

“Honestly, I don’t recall much of anything … I can’t remember my name, if I had friends or family, how I got here … I mean, I know that you put me here, I think, but before that … all I remember is that things were very painful.” When the prisoner spoke, he put his hand to his chin as if he were struggling to recall a past he’d seen only in a dream.

“You have no reason to lie to me.” It was not an accusation. He was merely stating facts aloud.

“No.” The prisoner straightened his posture, suddenly nervous.

Arima attempted to sound more gentle, but showing any intended kindness was not his strong suit, “What is it that you want to do?”

“I’m sorry … ?” The prisoner’s eyes widened, and it reminded the investigator once more how young the half-ghoul was.

“What do you want to do?” It was such a simple question, but Arima empathized. He was sure that if someone asked him the same thing, he wouldn’t be able to give much of an answer, either.

The half-ghoul bowed his head and whispered his response. 

The investigator wasn’t able to quite make it out, “Come again?”

“I don’t want to die,” he managed to look up.

Arima nodded. Everything fell into place so easily. Not wanting to die … it was a wish every living being shared no matter animal or human or ghoul. 

“Do as I ask, and you won’t.”

The prisoner came to life, a gentle smile gracing his face- one that showed that he trusted him, and that he trusted only him to keep this promise.

“Thank you.”


 … but I made no promises.

More h/c fluff. This time injury/illness on my bingo card. For nohaijiachi :)

***

When Steve finally saw Tony, he was trying to wave off a young man in EMT clothes. Tony looked terrible: he was pale, his face tight; his clothes were rumpled and torn in places, and that was how Steve could see that the arm Tony was cradling against his chest was very obviously swollen.

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in the grand days of great men and the smallest of gestures

so in other news i can’t write proposal fics without dying, also, i don’t think i ever jumped off the olicity wedding train so choo choo. i would recommend listening to all this and heaven too by florence + the machine when reading this because it is totally the song that would be playing in the background of these scenes so yeah. tagging olicitykisses and scu11y22 because they’re awesome

Rating: T/PG-13 | Words: 1,922 | Pairings: Felicity Smoak / Oliver Queen | Canon Divergence/Speculation for 3x23 | read on ao3 


Felicity leans up against her new car with a smile on her face and her heart beating fast. She knows she shouldn’t be nervous, she has no reason to be, but it’s really the first time they’ve seen each other outside of a crisis in so long, and, especially while staring at the company - her company - that they’d walked out of together the day before everything went to shit. All she can think about is that summer, the one where, looking back, everything seems to be clouded in a hazy mist of happiness and sexual tension.

Happiness. Wow. She hasn’t felt that pure unadulterated feeling in a while. She’s had glimpses, of course - small moments in Nanda Parbat, a thank you uttered deep within the walls of the now broken and battered foundry, getting coffee with Barry in Central City - but nothing, nothing compares to what she sees him turn the corner and set his eyes on her, a smile settling into his face.

She doesn’t see it at first because she’s anxiously smoothing down the skirt of her red and white skater dress - a nervous tick she’d adopted as the number of skirts and dresses in her wardrobe grew - but when she does an all-consuming kind of numbness fills her. And the happiness threatens to consume her. It almost kind of hurts. She’s so happy it hurts. And that’s before they even say hello.

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