the best insult ever

Since I pointed out that similarity between Rocket and Yondu once again, I do wonder… at any point, will the others notice, too? Peter probably already did, but Kraglin hasn’t yet, for example.

(Spoilers for GotG 2 again, guys!)

Like… Rocket tinkering with one of the new set of spacesuits (“You all are gonna wear those, ya hear me?!”) and starting to cuss when it doesn’t go his way. Or Rocket laughing like a delighted maniac in the middle of a fight, as if it’s the best thing ever. Even the insults (nicknames?) spoken with more warmth then venom, are simila

And one day, Kraglin just taps Peter on the shoulder when the other tries to walk past him and points at Rocket. “Uh, Pete? Is it just me or does Rocket remind you a bit… of… um. Of Capt’n?”

He trails of, hesitating, as he reaches unconsciously for the new fin on his head. Perhaps it’s silly. Perhaps he’s just looking for things familiar to him because he misses Yondu and the others.

But Peter, bless him, takes one look at Rocket and at Kraglin’s little gesture and understands, teeth glinting as he laughs aloud. “Oh thank the stars, I thought I’m the only one who noticed!”

Kraglin smiles crookedly, chuckling a bit. It’s a relief and amusing at the same time.

Rocket looks up from the bomb he is building, looking at them with narrowed eyes, sensitive ears twitching. “You guys got a problem over there?”

“Nah,” the two men answer simultaneously, Kraglin a bit wary (that’s a bomb there, after all) and Peter more than a bit mischievous.

“Hmmm,” Rocket isn’t convinced, not at all. He goes back to work while shaking his head, muttering something about “all Ravagers being crazy”.

Peter leans over to Kraglin, whispering not too quietly, “And here I thought he would threaten to eat me now.”

The snort breaks out of Kraglin before he can stop it and he’s laughing aloud in a matter of seconds, the way Peter grins at him mixed with the certain familiarity the sentence brings – how often has Yondu said that empty threat, just how often – makes it funnier than it probably should be.

Peter starts laughing himself when he sees Kraglin lose control like that, reaching out to steady the other as he himself shakes with laughter.

Rocket shoots the two men a sideway glance as they both almost keel over laughing, tears of mirth in their eyes.

“Something ain’t right in those heads,” the former thug mutters, but he’s grinning himself as he watches them from the corner of his eye, work all but forgotten.

dokurochrome  asked:

The softest and most pure thing I've ever read oh my goshhh.. Okay but our favorite Extraforov wouldn't let Yuuri win so one night he stays up, its hard, but he stays up longer than Yuuri and, though it was planned, he understands the feels Yuuri had late at night that led to the tweets and of course, follows suit.

Payback

Yuuri stretched his arms above his head as he wondered into the kitchen to cook himself some breakfast.

It was a little after one in the afternoon, jetlagged having caused him to knock out early last night and sleep a little longer than normal.

Victor had already left for the rink, Yuri have requested (okay, demanded) Victor’s presence to help touch up his routine.

He opened the fridge to see what he could cook up, only to see a plate of sandwiches ready and waiting for him. A little note stuck onto the top addressed to him.

‘Rest up, my love. Can’t wait to see you later’

He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his lips as he grabbed the plate and took it to the dining table.

Yuuri sat down with his plateful of sandwiches before pulling out his phone and opened the twitter app.

He frowned slightly when he saw a number of notifications.

He felt his eyes widen at the number of twits he was tagged in before blushing when he started to read them.

Victor Nikiforov @v-nikiforov
@yuurikatsuki is the best fiancé ever!

Victor Nikiforov @v-nikiforov
@christophe-gc
I am insulted that you think this is payback for @yuurikatsuki declaration of love the other week

Victor Nikiforov @v-nikiforov
@phichit+chu YES!!! I have lots of cute photos of @yuurikatsuki
(photo attached)

Yuuri blushed at the photo of him sleeping, curled up around Makkachin.

Victor Nikiforov @v-nikiforov
I can’t wait to marry @yuurikatsuki, I would marry him today if @phichit+chu & @christophe-gc wouldn’t kill us for not inviting them.

Victor Nikiforov @v-nikiforov
@yuurikatsuki
is the love of my life. I can’t believe how lucky I am. I love you so much.

Victor Nikiforov @v-nikiforov
@yuurikatsuki
has the softest hair ever. Like, my favourite thing is to run my hand through it. 

Yuuri blushed brightly while quickly exited the app and pulling up Victor’s contact details and pushing the call button.

He needed to talk to his fiancé.

Needed to tell him he is a huge dork and he was utterly in love with him.

Twitter War AU

Perfect fit

Request: in summary, this is loosely based on the film “What’s your number” (part two here, part three here)

Pairing: Lin-Manuel Miranda x reader

Warnings: pining, gourmet food

Word count: 2,775 (this is maybe a 1/3 of it? good luck)

A/N: This is for the lovely Taryn  (@fragmentofmymind) who won my 1.1k celebration prize of a personalised ficlet of 1.5k words or more! Since it’s over 6k, I’m splitting it into parts. This is a fic for everyone, except that it has some details unique to Taryn- regardless, enjoy!

The first time you met Lin was a cold Saturday morning in February. You had had a late night and just wanted to sleep in and spend the day in your pyjamas. Your alarm was off, your duvet was warm, and someone was banging on the door.

You rolled over, hoping whoever it was would go away- no such luck. Taking a deep breath, you slipped out of bed and, grabbing a jumper from where you had hung it over the back of a chair, headed to answer the door.

“Coming,” you called as you slid back the lock and opened the door. A guy was standing there in a hastily buttoned shirt and boxer shorts. You recognised him- he lived in the apartment opposite you, but you’d not really spoken before.

“Can I come in?” he asked, looking furtively over his shoulder towards the door to his apartment.

You wavered, considering his strange getup. He seemed nice- short hair, soft brown eyes, the beginnings of a goatee, and a nervous smile. Cute, your mind said. “Your apartment is right there,” you pointed out.

“Just for a minute?” he pleaded. You opened the door a little and he dashed inside.

“Close it,” he hissed, and bewildered, you did. He relaxed, collapsing into the cushy armchair you had beside the window.

“Thanks,” he grinned, “I had a one-night stand to get away from.”

“That’s nice of you,” you frowned, vividly conscious that you were still in your pjs and a hoodie. “Who are you?”

He sprang up again, extending a hand for you to take. You shook it hesitantly. “I’m Lin-Manuel Miranda.”

“Y/N - nice to meet you.” You watched him explore your apartment, unsure of what to do next. You didn’t exactly have any experience with this kind of situation. “How long are you going to-”

“Stay?” he turned around, scampering over to peer through the peephole in your door. Lin shrugged. “Until she’s gone.”

You raised an eyebrow, “I see. Excuse me.” Grabbing a pair of jeans, a shirt, and some underwear, you headed into the bathroom to get dressed. You could hear Lin still wandering around your apartment, humming softly to himself.

You dressed as quickly as you could and pulled a brush through your hair until it looked vaguely presentable. “I’m helping you,” you told Lin as you emerged from the bathroom and headed out of your apartment and across the hallway to his.

The door wasn’t locked, so you opened it. A girl with red hair, glasses, and very few clothes was picking her way through Lin’s apartment, looking for her jeans. You straightened and got ready to try to act.

You gasped theatrically and the girl looked up, yelping when she saw that you weren’t Lin. “Who are you?” she asked, covering herself as best as she could with the clothes she had.

“I’m his girlfriend,” you said, and buried your face in your hands, your shoulders shaking with fake sobs. You were sure it looked fake, but she seemed to buy it, blurting out an apology and, grabbing her jeans from the end of the bed, she all but ran out of the apartment.

You listened until you heard her footsteps on the stairs and, a moment later, the door to the building close behind her. Then, straightening your hurriedly pulled-on clothes, you walked back into your apartment.

“There you go,” you told Lin, who had now moved on to examining all the titles on your bookshelves, “she’s gone.”

“Thanks,” Lin said, not moving, “I owe you one.”

“You can repay me by leaving,” you suggested, “I have a brunch date to get to and I don’t want to be late.”

“A brunch date?” Lin wrinkled his nose, “Seems lazy.”

“My mum set me up,” you admitted with a sheepish smile, “apparently I’ve been single for too long.”

Lin laughed. Something on your bookshelf caught his eye and he paused, slipping it out carefully from between Jane Eyre and The Hobbit. “What’s this?” he asked, flipping open the cover.

Wide Sargasso Sea,” you said, watching as he searched for a blurb. You had signed your name carefully onto the first page in pencil, just in case you lost it. “It’s about Mrs. Rochester.”

“As in Jane Eyre?” He turned to the first page with renewed interest.

You smiled, “It’s my favourite book.”

Lin looked up from the first chapter and raised an eyebrow, “Why?”

You thought about it. “It’s really heartbreaking,” you started, “but so beautiful, because it gives life to the character everyone seems frightened of when reading Jane Eyre.”

“Can I borrow it?”

“Of course,” you smiled,  “just be careful with it, and bring it back when you’re done.”

Lin put his hand over his heart, “I swear it.”

You laughed. The clock caught your eye- it was half-past nine and you had to be there in half an hour. “Now I have a date to get ready for,” you said, “and you have an empty apartment to go back to.”

He pouted. “I like it here-”

“Next time, wear some clothes,” you said pointedly, giving him a good-natured shove towards the door.

“Any requests?” he teased, and you just closed the door with a sigh and went to get ready.

Charlie was nice, you decided. He paid attention to you, recommended food from the menu, and picked up the bill at the end. He was tall with dark hair and, when he smiled, he had the cutest dimples.

When he got excited, he spoke with his hands, nearly knocking over his glass a couple of times. He worked as a food critic, had a little sister called Josie, and made you want to cook.

You set up your next date before you’d even left the small diner where you’d met for brunch. “I’ll be there for seven,” he promised, “and I’ll bring over some of those lobster canapés I told you about- family recipe, you know.”

“I can’t wait,” you smiled, and he kissed you shyly on the cheek.

You were just setting down your bag when you heard a knock at the door, which you had left ajar, meaning to run downstairs and grab your umbrella from where you’d left to dry by the door. Lin was leaning up against your doorframe, now in jeans and a t-shirt, his hair spiky and damp from a shower.

“Hey neighbour,” he grinned and sauntered in, pushing the door shut behind him, “how was the date?”

“Nice,” you said honestly. All you wanted to do was flop and watch some West Wing, but you felt a little awkward with Lin around.

“Just ‘nice’?” Lin asked, putting air quotes around the word. “Doesn’t sound great to me.”

“It was a first date- give it a chance!” You headed through into the kitchen decided you might as well make yourself a cup of tea. You hesitated at the cupboard before pulling out two mugs, “Do you want some tea?”

Lin was examining your books again, but he straightened at your offer. “Sounds great.”

You clicked on the kettle and settled on finding out a bit more about the guy who had crashed your apartment that morning, “What do you do?”

“I write- or at least try to write- musicals,” Lin confessed. He joined you in the kitchen, “And while I try, I teach English.”

“That’s amazing!” you said, open-mouthed as you poured out the hot water for your tea, “What are you writing now?”

Lin grinned, “It’s called ‘In the Heights’- it’s about a small Latino community down in Washington Heights. I’m trying to pitch it to anyone who’ll listen.”

“Tell me more?” you suggested, but Lin shook his head with a smile.

“My turn to ask a question,” he insisted.

You raised an eyebrow, but shrugged. “I’m not as exciting as you, Mr. Broadway.”

Lin laughed at that. “What,” he tapped his chin, pretending to think, “is your favourite colour?”

“It’s a tie between burgundy and teal,” you said, gesturing to your teal hoodie and then to the burgundy cardigan hanging up beside the door. “My turn. Tell me more about your musical.”

“That’s not a question,” he pointed out. You waited, and he gave in, “I play Usnavi-”

“You’re in it?” you interrupted, surprised.

“Yeah. I play Usnavi, and he and his cousin run a bodega in the heights.” He paused, “It’s quite a long plot to explain.”

You fished out the teabags and passed him his mug. “I guess I’ll have to come and see it then.”

He lit up, beaming, “You would?”

“Of course,” you said. After a moment, you decided to invite him to stay. “I was going to crash and watch some West Wing, do you want to join me?”

“Y/N,” he said solemnly, “you are a woman after my own heart.”

“You know the West Wing?” you said, surprised.

“Know it?” he pretended to be insulted, “it’s only the best show ever.”

You snorted and headed over to your couch, setting your tea down on your tiny coffee table before you went to put the DVD in. Lin was funny and bouncy and a bit weird, you thought as the theme began to play, but you liked him.

On the day of your next date with Charlie, you went out shopping. You wanted to cook something he’d like and, after some deliberation and way too much time on food recipe websites. You’d settled on something called “Zuni roast chicken” that meant you had to head out to the store with an unusual shopping list.

When you came back, a large paper bag of groceries in your arms, you realised you didn’t have any free hands. You struggled for a moment, wishing the chicken you had bought was lighter so you could hold the bag in one hand.

“Need some help?” Lin appeared and held out his hand for the key you had barely manage to pull out of your jacket pocket.

“Please,” you said, and he unlocked the door. You staggered inside and to the kitchen, where you dumped the bag on the counter. You turned to thank Lin, only to find him standing at your peephole again, the door closed. You sighed, “Another one-night stand you need to hide from?”

“Yeah,” he admitted sheepishly.

You set to unpacking your groceries. Lin bounded over and started to help. “What is this stuff?” he asked, wrinkling his nose. He started to read out some of the labels, “Pitted castelvetrano olives? Duck fat? Escarole?” he pulled out a leafy vegetable, “What is all of this?”

“I’m cooking dinner,” you explained, grabbing the vegetable so you could stick it in the fridge. “I didn’t have all the ingredients, so I bought them.”

Lin was still digging through your shopping. After a moment he produced a minimalistically branded bag of muesli, “You’d better not be having that for dinner.”

You snatched it back. “No, Charlie recommended I improve my diet.”

Lin made a face. “Why, what do you usually have?”

You shrugged. “Toast?” You shelved the muesli, “Sometimes cereal?”

“You’re changing your diet for this guy?” Lin grabbed an apple from the bottom of the bag. “May I?”

“Sure,” you nodded. “But I’m not changing for him,” you argued- somewhat unconvincingly if Lin’s expression was anything to go by, “I’m making better choices.”

“Whatever you say,” Lin took a bite of the apple.

You grabbed the last thing out of the bag- a bottle of white-wine vinegar- and set it aside. The recipe had said you needed four hours to make this thing. “I’d better get started,” you groaned.

Lin laughed. “Want some help?”

“What do you know about cooking?” you asked skeptically, remembering the general lack of kitchen utensils you’d seen in his apartment.

He held up his hands in surrender. “Alright, you got me,” he admitted, “my dad is the cook in my family. He makes a great arroz con grandules-”

“I don’t suppose he knows how to make-” you pulled up the recipe on your phone, “roast chicken with fennel panzanella?”

“Nope,” he shook his head and peered over your shoulder at the phone, “but how hard can it be?”

“Don’t even say that,” you groaned as you scrolled down the instructions, “we’re going to die.”

It was quarter to seven when you left Lin to look after the saucepan of panzanella- mostly vegetables, as it turned out- and went to get changed. You pulled on a nice knit sweater and a fresh pair of jeans, since the pair you had been wearing smelled distinctly of the herby sauce you had spilled on them earlier.

You fixed your makeup and yelped when you realised it was almost seven. “Lin!” you called, “I have to kick you out.”

“What? “After I helped you make this?” He looked sadly at the chicken that being kept hot by the oven.

“Don’t you dare give me those puppy eyes, Lin-Manuel Miranda,” you warned. “You know perfectly well I have a date.”

He still looked sad. You sighed and headed over to the bookshelf where, in a little wooden box, you kept a spare key. You pulled it out. “Here- catch,” you said, and threw it to him.

Lin caught it. “What’s this?”

“A spare key to my apartment,” you explained.

Lin grinned, “Thanks, Y/N.”

You held up a hand to stop him. “There are rules if you’re going to use my apartment to escape those poor women,” you said. “Firstly, you have to be clothed if you come into my apartment-”

“How clothed?” He interrupted.

You pretended to consider it, “Preferably fully. Secondly, don’t crash my dates.”

“Damn,” he muttered.

“And lastly, don’t lose the key.”

“Done, done, and done,” Lin promised, tucking the key into his pocket.

The buzzer at the door let you know that Charlie wanted to be let into the building. You pressed the button to admit him and opened the door. Lin hurried out.

You caught his arm as he passed you. “Thanks for helping, Lin,” you said sincerely, “I needed it.”

Lin smiled. “Any time,” he said and crossed the hallway. He opened his door a crack and peered inside to check for his date. “She’s gone,” he told you before heading into his apartment, pausing only to mouth ‘good luck’ to you as he closed the door.

Just then, Charlie turned the corner. He was carrying a bouquet of pink tulips and wore a white shirt. “Y/N!” He smiled and presented you with the flowers. “Good to see you.”

“Good to see you too, Charlie,” you said. He followed you into your apartment and into the kitchen where you searched the cupboards for a vase.

“Roast chicken with fennel?” He asked after a moment. You looked up to see him peering into the simmering saucepan on the hob.

“Yeah,” you admitted as you filled the base. “I hope it turned out well.”

“My dad always used to add leek,” he advised, “for texture and flavour.”

“Oh?” You did your best to sound interested, pulling out two plates and two glasses. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Domaine aux Moines Savennieres from Roche aux Moines from late ‘90s or early '00s is my perfect pairing for roast chicken,” he told you as he moved on to peer into your oven. “Roast chicken always has very deep and complex flavors, and I look for savory characteristics in a wine to go with it.”

You stared at him for a moment. “I don’t have any of… that.”

He shrugged. “It can’t be helped- any Pinot Noir?”

You knocked on Lin’s door after Charlie had left. Charlie, you found out, was critical of diets and foods even outside of work. To make it worse, he was a dick about it without realizing.

When he’d unintentionally insulted your dessert- a recipe from your mother- you had decided you had had enough.

There were no plans for a third date, and you had hoped to bitch about it to Lin. But, standing outside his apartment, you realized he was either asleep or out. You headed back to your apartment.

To: Lin

You out?

You tried to sound casual, hoping the door would open in a moment to reveal Lin. But it didn’t.

Feeling lonely, you washed up the dishes, boxed the leftovers, and got ready for bed. You knew you couldn’t expect Lin to always be there- he had his own life, after all. 

It was just that your life and his life had started to feel like the same thing. The absence of his familiar presence on the couch or in your kitchen or reading your books left you feeling lopsided, as if half of you had gone missing.

From: Lin

On a date- you alright?

You swallowed your pride and replied.

To: Lin

Yh. See you tomorrow.

nice qualities I've noticed about the signs (based on people i know)
  • aries: literally some of the sweetest people I've met that always accept you and are amazing with kids
  • taurus: these people have a really strong character like there's always that one thing that stands out about them that's so mind-blowing
  • gemini: somehow geminis have this thing where you always feel comfortable to be yourself around them and it's always a very light and happy mood
  • cancer: they are super caring and have the best sense of humour, they laugh at EVERYTHING
  • leo: i have three words for this sign- "heart of gold"
  • virgo: they seem so approachable and are such good conversationalists that make others smile or laugh really easily
  • libra: this sign always has this childish side to them that's really cute and I've noticed how they always have this ONE thing they're really into and passionate about
  • scorpio: idk how they do it but every scorpio I've met has the best insults and sense of humour ever, they are guaranteed to make you smile
  • sagittarius: sags are always able to turn anything into something happy and positive plus they make (surprisingly) excellent listeners
  • capricorn: they are the kindest people who never bother others about their issues and always seem to be happy and smiling but at the same time they take their work seriously
  • aquarius: some of the most confident and daring people I've ever met who also seem to get along and make friends with absolutely EVERYBODY
  • pisces: this sign is always making jokes out of things and seems to be able to relate or empathise with everyone and they're really good at figuring people out

For Odyssey, what if Mario proposed to Peach already? And Bowser caught wind of the news, was like “Fuck that”, kidnaps Peach so he can marry her first?

And…maybe Pauline could help out Mario?? Like, would she be the one to give Mario the ship that travels to other worlds???

And what if Pauline and Peach would meet?? What would they say to each other??? Or what would Pauline say to Bowser? Like, I don’t know, maybe she would give him the best insults ever, or give Peach confidence in her marriage to Mario, telling her that Mario wouldn’t marry for nothing??????

There are so many questions, and I can’t wait for answers.