Arcade Rakan “What IS this? Is it a healing potion? It’s blue! Xayah? XAYAH! Where’d she go?”
I feel it’s pertinent to mention that Night of Fire by Initial D is basically this thing’s theme song for how many times it repeated over the hours I spent on it.
Other notes: - Backing animation is a round of DDR ;) - That said, figuring out a feasible dance for him was hard (let alone alongside an Arcade Xayah!), but maybe something like this? (About 15 seconds worth, sound warning!) Dunno! Leave a comment with a suggestion!
Note: I would hugely appreciate it if you linked back to this if you decide to redraw it! Also, please don’t post this outside Tumblr without asking! Thank you!
Summary: Dan starts to get love notes in his locker in the form of origami stars, so he gets the help of his best friend, Phil, to figure out who it is. Word Count: 2,398 Warnings: cussing A/N: Thanks to @insanityplaysfics as always for giving me ideas. I’m a fucking sap recently because my boyfriend proposed to me and I just wanna write a crapton of fluff and puke rainbows everywhere. This is short and sweet, which is very rare for me! I hope you like it anyways! Read it on AO3
The day Dan opened his locker to a strange slip of paper folded into an origami star was one of the strangest moments of his life.
“What,” Dan said simply, giving the offending paper a strange look. He bent down and retrieved it, staring at it long and hard. It was thin, made with a flowery paper, and he could just make out words written in very small print on it. “What,” Dan said again.
With a small amount of struggle, Dan managed to unwrap the star, revealing the writing inside. The script was sloppy to the point where Dan thinks it was written with the wrong hand. Dan said “what” again and the word didn’t even sound like it was real anymore. It took him a few minutes to read what it said due to the scribble, but he eventually managed.
‘i used to stare out the window because i thought the scenery was beautiful. Then i saw you and suddenly the world didnt seem nearly as captivating as before.’
Because it’s the Inquisition, and apparently everyone has an opinion (a.k.a. the companions are idiots with no sense of boundaries). Fluff.
Dorian wakes wondering why he’s wrapped in an extra blanket - he’s been meaning to requisition one, they aren’t in the hotter months yet and the Plains can be cold - until he realises that said blanket is actually an astonishingly warm, asleep man. He doesn’t particularly mind. This far south, he’ll take any heat he can get. He absentmindedly examines one of the arms around his waist, plucks at Gal’s sleeve with half-conscious curiosity, and touches the hand that’s glowing slightly in the dim light.
He’s certain they started out with separate bedrolls, or at least nominally separate ones. He wonders when the gap was closed, but considering it in any more detail would require proper thought, and for now he’s quite happy to enjoy the haze. He lies there, on the edge of sleep and thinking in circles, until he finds himself closing his eyes and savouring the feeling. It’s far too comfortable, and it shouldn’t be.
He extricates himself as gently as possible, shifting and rolling over. It’s an art, leaving without waking a bed partner, and really he should be finding his leathers and his gear. But he glances at Gal, and for some reason he lingers.
If 5x19 is
indicative of the final four episodes of Season 5, then we are in for one hell
of a ride.
After setting Oliver and Felicity off into trajectories, Arrow
returns to the center as Felicity’s relationship with Helix come to a head. Original Team Arrow is splintered as Felicity
aligns herself against Oliver and Diggle. Smoak versus Arrow is more than just Felicity
going head to head with those who know and love her best. It’s about diving into Felicity’s real
motivations. Sure, we were told Felicity’s grief over Billy is pushing her over
(keep singing that tune Arrow),
but we knew there was more. The truth
is, Felicity’s motivations haven’t strayed too far from center after all.
A/N: One, reader-insert is not my strong suit. I don’t know why I keep setting myself up for this. Two, there’s no smut. I know, shocker right? There’s some adult flirting because they are a married couple. Three, I went with the urban dictionary definition of a ‘rare person’ because Lance is no virgin (the other urban dictionary definition). And four, this is my contribution to @bucky-plums-barnes8K writing challenge. Congratulations, Gen! My prompt was
11. “You finally match your unicorn status, sweetheart”
Lance looked around the gymnasium. Families everywhere. The school’s annual carnival had a great turn out this year. People who didn’t even have kids in the school showed up to support the community.
“Lance!” He looked up at the sound of your voice. You waved from the doorway to an adjacent gym. “I need your help!”
“Coming, babe!” He handed off his roll of tickets to another volunteer and walked toward you. He smirked at the way you bit your lip, watching him come closer. “What’s up or did you just want to watch me walk across the gym?” He laughed loudly at the blush that crept of your cheeks.
“I need help setting up the paints for this year’s banner.” You turned away from him and over to where there were several paint pans on the floor and jugs of paint lined up.
He licked his lips as he watched you bend over. “Looks like you’ve got it covered, babe.”
You looked over your shoulder at him. He smirked and shrugged at being caught admiring your ass. “I asked you in to help, Tucker. Not to stare at my ass.”
Lance stepped up behind you and ran his hands down your thighs then back up over your ass. “But it’s such a nice ass.”
“Tuck. Anyone could walk in.”
He sighed and gave your right cheek a hard smack. “Fine.” He stepped away, adjusting himself in the track pants. A glance at his crotch rewarded you with a mouthwatering dick print on the blue fabric. “What am I doing?”
“I need you to open the rest of the paint cans and help me pour them into these trays. “ He started opening the paint cans one at a time and setting them by their respective trays. The both of you looked up at a pack of giggling from the doorway. You knew WHY they were giggling but you liked to give Lance a hard time. “Can we help you, girls?”
They whispered between themselves then elected one to be the voice and nudged her forward. “We were wondering, Mrs. Tucker if…if Mr. Tucker would do some flips for us?”
You crossed your arms over your chest and looked over your shoulder at him, grinning. “I don’t know. Mr. Tucker? How about showing these girls some of your moves?”
He pressed his lips together and shrugged. “Sure why not?” You moved over to group of girls. He unzipped his jacket and tossed it away. The girls giggled. You shook your head, still grinning. Fuck, he looked good in the white tee. You could see his little nipples poking against the shirt. It wasn’t often Lance got to show off for you. And he never missed the opportunity when it arose.
You watched him do a few quick stretches, admiring his perfect ass and thick thighs. He strutted to the far end of the gym. He usually performed on a matted surface or the soft ground underneath the grass. This polished, waxed hardwood was very different surface. He bounced back and forth on each foot then he ran forward. The girls gasped, including you as he flipped across the gym, lightning fast. He planted both feet then launched himself into the air, twisting his body around before he stuck the landing. In a tray of paint. Your gasp of shock was the loudest of the girls.
Lance had a moment of triumph then sticky liquid slid under his foot and he went down, taking out several colors of paint. “Lance!” You ran over, followed by the group of girls. He groaned and leaned up, looking down at himself. “Lance, baby, are you ok?” You dropped to your knees next to him, not caring around the spilled paint.
“I think I’m alright.” He seemed to find himself in good condition. He dropped his head back and stared up at the ceiling. “How’d it look?”
“Perfect.” He grinned. “Lance, are you really ok?”
“I’m fine. Bruised ass, maybe. Bruised pride, definitely. I feel like a rainbow puked on me.” He sat up and looked around at the mess, thankful you’d been smart enough to throw down a drop clothe. Your lips twitched. Now that you knew he was ok, you fought to keep from giggling. He noticed the lip twitch. “What?”
“You finally match you unicorn status, sweetheart.”
His jaw dropped. “You-“ He lunged for you. You evaded him only to step into one of the trays that had made it unscathed in his fall. With a surprised cry, your foot went out from under you and you fell right into Lance, knocking him back into the paint. “That’s what you get for picking on me.” He grinned, pushing your paint soaked hair from your face and smearing different colors over your cheek. You lay there in the paint for a moment, almost afraid to move for making more of a mess. “If I’m a unicorn, does this mean I get to point you with my horn?”