now don’t tell me that tim doesn’t ever slide up close to bruce and whisper, “oh bruce we’ll be close to central city when we work that case” and bruce will be like “….yes we will be, why?” and tim will take a deep breath and then bruce will say “NO WE ARE NOT GOING TO SEE CISCO RAMON OR CAITLIN SNOW BECAUSE IF YOU GET WITHIN A HUNDRED FEET OF THEM I WILL NEVER GET YOU BACK”
Every Halloween Grantaire plays a game called “How Far Can I Push Enjolras’s Buttons?”
To be fair, that’s a game he plays year-round, but Halloween comes with costumes, which is a bonus. This year he’s delighted to discover his Napoleon costume can totally be related to E’s Jedi Knight costume, vaguely.
Mark: “I never thought I’d say this but, I miss Misha.”
Jensen: “MISHA?! WHERE? CAN WE FACE TIME HIM? WE SHOULD FACE TIME HIM! MY PHONE IS DYING!! NOOOOO! I NEED BATTERY! LIFE! GOD! NO!! YOU HAVE A CHARGER? YES! NOOO! IT’S DEAD! ANOTHER CHARGER! YES! I’M CALLING HIM! IT’S RINGING GUYS! OMG! IT’S RINGING! HE’S NOT ANSWERING! FUCK! NO!, WHY!?! *pouts*
Imagine jock!steve having a huge crush on bucky, the cute pouty faced nerd he sits next to in chemistry class
It’s not that Steve has no idea who this guy is. He’s heard the name Bucky Barnes lots of times.
It’s just. He’s never ended up in the same classes as the guy.
So he watches, mildly interested, as Bucky Barnes–less than three inches shorter than Steve, broad in the shoulders and narrow in the waist, with a walk that airs on a swagger and that definitely favors his left side and the sling on his left arm–slopes over to a seat halfway down the third row of desks, as per their teacher’s instructions.
“Rogers–you’re next to Barnes,” says Mr Douglas. He’s the football coach. Steve plays baseball–okay, baseball and hockey–so he and Douglas have never crossed paths, but he knows from reputation that the man never calls anyone by their first names.
Steve heads over to his seat, notices Bucky turn and watch him. He swallows. Why is it always the eyelashes?
“Rogers,” he says in greeting.
“Barnes,” Steve replies.
He doesn’t get a chance to ask, that day, why people call him Bucky.
It happens in the fourth class. It’s their first lab day; Steve’s not great at this stuff, but, damn, it’s pretty fun watching stuff blow up. Mr Douglas seems to know that, which must be why he’s got them making tiny explosions in their test tubes today.
Bucky, leaning against the lab counter holding their test tube horizontally, looks up at Steve and grins. “Right. Now, light the thing,” he says. Steve does as he’s told, holding the too-skinny-for-a-popsicle-stick in their Bunsen burner. Bucky nods, tips his safety goggles off the top of his head and onto his nose, and says, “now stick it in.”
“That’s what she said,” Steve says, or tries to say. He manages, “that’s what–” before he feeds the flame into the test tube. The thing makes this weird little pop sound; fire races up toward Bucky’s hand, held in by the glass–and the experiment’s over.
Steve shoves his goggles up and laughs a little, put out that there wasn’t more explosion. But Bucky–Bucky is grinning like a loon. He’s put the test tube back into its clamp and picked up his pen, his left arm–as usual–hanging in its sling.
Steve can’t stop looking at him.
“I was kind of expecting more,” he says, because he wants Bucky to look at him too.
“Are you kidding me?” Bucky asks, glancing up at Steve. His eyelashes are bent against the lenses of his glasses, that’s how long they are. “I love this shit! Fuckin' science, man!”
Steve’s not sure he’s ever seen anyone smile like that. He feels sort of off-balance, like his feet are standing on nothing.
It’s going to be a long year.
It’s not that Steve’s an idiot, okay? He does understand chemistry. If he puts his mind to it.
It’s just. He can’t focus.
Their midterm is coming up, and he has no idea what the hell has been going on in this class, except that Bucky Barnes smells like chocolate chip cookies some days and like just really manly other days, and either his body heat is several degrees higher than normal or Steve’s mom’s menopause is rubbing off on him (okay no but seriously it’s always so warm sitting next to Bucky), and for a while he had been sure that Bucky had worn mascara because his eyelashes are just so fucking long, and also Bucky has a lot of these weirdly pretty beauty marks (or something, Steve doesn’t know what the hell to call them), they’re like Steve’s freckles but bigger and darker and wider-spaced, but anyway Bucky has them on his neck and they’re in the pattern of the Cassiopeia constellation and Steve just wants to kiss them all.
He’s so screwed.
And yet this is nothing–nothing–compared to how screwed he is when Bucky offers to tutor him. Because there’s no way in hell he’s saying no, but there’s also no way in hell he’s ever going to learn anything this way.
When Bucky shows up at Steve’s place that Friday, he’s carrying a tin of cookies. “My mom never lets me go to anyone’s house without treats,” he says with a grin as Steve leads the way to the kitchen because he can’t imagine being in his bedroom. Alone. With Bucky. And a bed. In his bedroom.
“You want anything to drink?” Steve asks. Behind him, Bucky pops open the lid on the cookies and puts them in the middle of the table, then starts to unpack.
“Um, you know, whatever you’re having,” he says. Steve gets two glasses of orange juice and joins Bucky at the table.
Steve stares down at his notebook for a few seconds. He has no memory of writing anything that’s in there, and it’s mostly garbled anyway. He groans and slumps down over the table, picking up his textbook and covering his head with it.
“I’m so fucked,” he grumbles.
Bucky chuckles. “You know, you wouldn’t be if you could pay attention to Douglas instead of staring at me.”
Steve jerks up. Bucky has his chin in his hand. His left arm is still in its sling–one day Steve’s going to work up the courage to ask about that.
“You–I–you,” Steve says. His face is already on fire, he can feel it.
He’s about to bunk in under his textbook again for, like, the rest of eternity, when Bucky leans forward a little. He grabs the front of Steve’s shirt and yanks him forward.
Suddenly they’re kissing. Steve lets out a little mewl and Bucky pulls back, just a little. His eyelashes brush against Steve’s cheek. “You,” Steve says.
When you used to be Darth Vader and now you're just a tiny slice of pie
There was a scary sticker.
It was a very scary sticker!!!
Every fucking moment of her screen time in this episode holy shit.
It’s scary here help meeeeeeee!
Mimics small child, threateningly.
Good at fight.
Idk what to tell ya. Every time I see something about villain decay relating to Peridot I laugh. She’s been a giant chickenshit, pouty nerd since she appeared. The fear behind her was always Homeworld up until the Cluster was revealed.
She’s had the Gem equivalent of giant nerd glasses plastered to her face this entire time. She has never been scary by herself, only with backup or the threat that she would bring backup. Even the fusion experiments weren’t her’s, just woken up by her.
Warp Tour is perhaps her only appearance where she wasn’t used as comic relief to offset an otherwise very serious or outright horrifying situation. And even then.