It was a lovely way to spend the afternoon, snuggling
together behind the dejarik table and envisioning how they’d spend their time
if they never returned to the Alliance.
“Just think,” Leia said. “No High Council.”
“No shitty rations,” Han said. Leia looked at him. “Okay. Fewer shitty rations.”
“Definitely,” she agreed. “You’re a good cook. Maybe you
could teach me.”
“Flying lessons and cooking lessons. I think I could handle
that,” he said, grinning. “Oh yeah—no more ice planets.”
“For certain. Though we’d probably be better at keeping each
other warm, now.”
Han shook his head, chuckling at her. “Best pickup line on
Hoth, and I never got to use it on you.” Leia elbowed him in the ribs, then
went in for another kiss.
They held each other quietly for a while, then Han had to go
and throw cold water on the whole thing.
“Y’know, there’s one problem with your little fantasy, here,”
he said, stroking her hair gently. “It wouldn’t last.”
Leia pulled back from him, surprised. “What do you mean?
Her earlier admission that yes, she truly believed she could
be happy here with Han had been the closest she’d come yet to saying those
three words, the ones she felt but couldn’t quite get out of her mouth. The same
words that had fallen freely from his lips throughout this trip—but did they
mean nothing after all?
“Sweetheart, ‘m not saying that, no. Not us. The running away thing, that’s what
She looked at him, her eyes doubtful.
“Think about it. We’d make it maybe six weeks doing the
whole running around the galaxy thing. And don’t get me wrong, it would be
great. But ‘bout a minute later we’d be starting rebel cells and freeing slaves
and saving pittins and whatever else needs doin’.”
Leia nodded, but didn’t say anything.
He took a deep breath, and continued. “I’ve seen a lot of bad shit, and I spent a
long time pretending it wasn’t there. Had to, to get by. You have to do something
about it,” he said. “You can’t help it.”
“No escape, eh?” Leia said ruefully.
Han tipped her chin up to look at him. His eyes were soft. “You
give a damn, Leia. It’s just who you are. ‘S why I love you,” he said, and
Of all the times he’d said those words on this trip, this
was the time Leia would most remember, and treasure.
“And hell—you make me want to give a damn, too.”
Leia clutched him tightly. Suddenly the reality she’d been
staving off for the last few hours was running back in, and she didn’t want it, she didn’t.
But she knew he was right. “I still want to run away,” she admitted, holding
back a sob.
His arms were warm, comforting, and his voice was soft
again. “Nothing wrong with that. And y’know, just because we’re gonna go back
sometime doesn’t mean we couldn’t still play hooky for a little while. Even
after we get the ship fixed.”
His eyes were wet, too, but he was smiling at her
in that way that made her melt. She nodded.
“And for now, we’re both right here,” he said. He put a palm gently on her cheek. “I don’t need to be the hero tonight. And neither do you.”
For anyone following me, Im sorry I kind of spammed my blog with politics rn, but as u can see, Im scared and sad about the results of our parliamentary elections. I can’t believe the people in my country would vote for parties like this.
I guess it’s true that czech people are one of the most xenophobic people. And stupid. And corruptible.
When Ignis has caught a cold, the other Chocobros must resort to their own skills…
[Ah I was not sure I was going to be able to make something for FFXV week because of my doujin work for another series, but my younger brother came up with this idea and I had to make it! I am sorry it is kind of detail heavy, please click the images to better see them, if you like! Recreating the game UI was very hard to accomplish in my manga style, but I really tried! Poor Iggy just wants good food again! The other campers are helpless without Mama-Ignis (´▽｀;)ゝ
haha anyway, please take care and have a good day/evening! I hope you can enjoy my work!]
whether its choir or band or anything just don’t. i wanted to quit a while back because i had a horrible, rude teacher. i didn’t though, because the only thing i ever heard from former musicians was that they regretted quitting. and a while back, i heard a little girl say to our teacher that she wanted to take private lessons so she could be as good as the other first chair and I.
so if you’re thinking of quitting, just think about how there may be one day where someone, whether it be a small child or a peer, decides that they’re going to keep going because you inspired them.
im sending this bc i keep seeing the “freedom of speech” argument come up, but i read this online article by a professor for the NY Times that basically explained that what people say is “radical leftists taking away others’ right to speak” by protesting speakers like Richard Spencer is the antithesis of restricting freedom of speech. The whole point of rejecting people like him and their speeches is to protect the rights of others… specifically the marginalized groups that those speakers dehumanize through their views
i.e. Richard Spencer is a white supremacist. When he engages in a discourse on race, his expressed views and by extension his very presence in that discourse deny and invalidate the identities of nonwhite groups - his participation alone in that debate involves denying the rights of another group of people
Request: can u do a peter parker/spider man imagine where the reader is a nerdy girl whos nose is always in a book and one day shes talking with her friends about spiderman and they run into each other or smth and the cute books falling thing happens and peter does everything he can to flirt with her and ask her out
No spoilers (i don’t think there are spoilers)
AN: I don’t think I proof read this very well
The bell rang to signal the next class. Everyone in Y/N’s class stood up and rushed to the hallways, but Y/N got up slowly, too focused with the book in her hands. She picked up the rest of her books that were on her desk, holding them against her hip and headed towards the door. She finished the page she was on before focusing on the hurdle of bodies in the hallway.
Y/N reached her locker, her friend already standing there waiting for her. “Hey Y/N. How was history?” Michelle asked. Y/N shrugged her shoulders, “Same as usual, I guess. I finished my work early so I had time to get farther in my book.” Michelle chuckled, making Y/N give her a questionable look.
“Which one?” Her friend questioned, pointing to the set of books in Y/N’s arms.
She smiled, wiggling one of the books in her hand, with a smile on her face. She then went on and gave her a non spoiler review of the book, in case she wanted to read it. Y/N opened her locker to place her history textbook inside. “So,” Michelle started, “have you seen that video of Spider-Man on YouTube?”
Y/N raised a brow while she grabbed a few notebooks and a couple more books to carry and read through out the day, “Well, I don’t know which one you’re talking about but, I probably have.” She scoffed at herself, slamming her locker shut and moving to walk to lunch.
“Of course you have. Because you can’t have a crush on someone and NOT stalk them,even if nobody knows what they look like.” Michelle said sarcastically, watching the people in front of her bolt to their next class. Y/N lightly shoved her friend, stopping in the middle of the hallway.
Michelle stopped a few steps in front of her, “What?” She asked bluntly. The number of people in the hallway faded out, but the pair took their time to get to lunch.
“I,I don’t have a crush on Spider-Man.” Y/N scoffed trying to defend herself. Michelle rolled her eyes, “You’re kidding, right? You are totally are in love with him, you never stop talking about him. He’s the only guy I ever hear you talk about, besides Pe-he who shall not be named.“she corrected herself, remembering their code name, "You’re crazy about him.”
Y/N sighed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. But how could I not like him?” She muttered biting her lip. “I’m gathering that this is no longer about Queens’ web slinger?” Michelle questioned. Y/N looked down, nodding her head.
Y/N’s friend sighed, “If it makes you feel better, I saw him staring at you at the Academic Decathlon team meeting yesterday.”
Y/N crinkled her nose in disbelief, “Really? Everyone knows that he liked Liz, so why wasn’t he staring at her?” Maybe there was something on my face or my clothes looked odd to him. She didn’t want to get her hopes up. Michelle nodded her head, “But he was staring for a really long time. Besides I don’t think he likes her anymore though. ”
Before the conversation could continue, the two rounded a corner but, Y/N was met with the back of Peter Parker. “What are you-Oh shit,” He said as he turned around to see all of her books fall.
“I am so sorry, my friend kind of bumped into me.” He apologized emphasizing the second half of the sentence while glaring at Ned, moving to the ground to grab her books. “Oh hey guys,” Peter’s best friend Ned said to the two girls, giving them a quick wave.
“I’m gonna meet you at lunch. See ya later Y/N,” Michelle states walking away as the bell rang,“You too Peter.” She said giving him a mock solute. Unbeknownst to Y/N and Peter, Michelle gave Ned a look, silently telling him to come with her. He scratched the back of his head, “I’ll just head off with Michelle.”
Y/N moved down to the floor with Peter, to pick up her books. “I’m sorry, I’m just so clumsy.” She said, shaking her head and laughing at herself. Y/N avoided eye contact at all cost, a blush appearing on her cheeks. Peter looked up at her, pausing his actions.
“It’s cute.” Peter said boldly, shocking himself. Peter had a couple of her books in his hand while she had the others. “You have a really good taste in books.” He said, standing up from the floor and then grabbing her arm to help her up after him.
“Thanks,” Y/N said, a small smile on her face. Peter still hasn’t let go of her arm and when she looked at his hand, he immediately pulled it away. He cleared his throat, before speaking to the girl.
“M-Maybe you can give me some book suggestions sometime.” He stuttered out. She stood there with wide eyes shocked, was he trying to ask her out.
“Or, maybe not. Maybe you don’t want to talk to me. I’ll just, ummm, I’ll leave.” He cursed himself, turning around to walk away. “Wait, Peter.” Y/N grabbed his arm and he spun around.
“I do have a couple books in mind.” Y/N said with a side smile. Peter smiled widely at the girl, handing her books back to her.
Peter’s point of view
“How did that robbery go last night?” Ned asked Peter as the two walked to Peter’s locker. The two boys had lunch next period and Peter didn’t want to carry anymore heavy textbooks in his backpack anymore (despite having super strength). “It was awesome. I beat their asses.” Peter said enthusiastically, but got quiet when he realized that they were still in school.
Peter and Ned were just about to round a corner when they heard two other people talking in the hall. Michelle and Y/N talking about Spider-Man. Peter was about to walk when Ned pulled him back, “Dude what the heck?” Peter said, looking at Ned like he was crazy.
“Hear me out, we might be able to eavesdrop on them. See how much she likes Spider-Man.”
Peter gave his best friend a look, debating whether or not this was a good idea. He pressed his back against the wall, “Only because I trust you Ned.”
The two heard a voice say offended, “I-I don’t have a crush on Spider-Man,”
Peter looked at his friend with hunched shoulders, “What did I tell you?” He whispered. Ned was about to say something when they heard their friend Michelle start to speak, “You’re kidding, right? You are totally are in love with him, you never stop talking about him-”
Peter turned to his friend shocked. Ned only smirked, “Maybe this was a good idea, she has the hots for Spider-Man dude.” They focused back onto the conversation the two girls were having, but they heard the subject change. “ I saw him staring at you at the Academic Decathlon team meeting yesterday.”
Peter stood there, shocked yet again, “Oh, no, oh lord.” He said, swallowing the lump in his throat.
“Weren’t you staring at her at the meet- ohhhhhhh,” Ned concluded, realizing they were now talking about Peter.
“Really? Everyone knows that he liked Liz, so why wasn’t he staring at her?” Y/N stated, kind of surprised at her friends statement.
“Dude, I think she likes you."Ned whispered. Peter glanced at his friend, thinking about how unreal it would be if she liked him. "And I’m sorry bro.” Ned finished.
Peter moved a step away from the wall, tilting his head, confused at his friend’s statement. “What are you-Oh shit.” He started but couldn’t end the question due to Ned shoving him backwards towards the girl he liked.
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.
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.
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.
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!”
“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!”
“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?”
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.