Summary: It’s when a guy and a girl like each other, says his voice again, and she knows that like is not enough but cannot think of another word to replace it and instead grins at him and tells him he needs a shower, that she won’t dance with him until he stops smelling like the ship.
Later, with the Zune playing on the table and Mantis and Groot playing the role of delighted audience to their dance practice, Peter’s face suddenly softens and he says, “Hey, my mom loved this song,” tossed easily out into the room.
And Gamora thinks, oh.
literally can y’all believe that i wrote this in three days!!! i actually cant believe i wrote this At All!!! that i typed it with my own two hands!! anyways it’s ironically a bit more serious and Emotional than my other guardians fics, despite being ridiculously tropey and indulgent. it also doesn’t contain nearly as much of the Gang as i would have liked, but really [ronswansonscreaming.gif] i’m happy with it ultimately. disclaimer: if you read this and think to yourself, “hey, that final scene sequence reads very much like once upon a time season three episode twenty one “snow drifts”’s most iconic scene sequence” then u are one hundred percent correct and i am offering a free admission right here without shame that i totally wrote this whole thing for the sole purpose of Doing That. its not entirely my fault; @taxicabsandcupcakes enabled me shamelessly. title’s from supertramp and bad back to the future scenarios for the purposes of characters falling in love is probably trademarked by abc. enjoy!
is on a very ordinary day cycle that Gamora starts thinking about the word like.
They are busy hauling building materials, synthetic pieces of Nova-built
equipment, contracted to help with the rebuilding of a Xandarian peace outpost
on N’ma Two. It’s a simple job, an easy job, a job for people who are still
just barely holding together at the seams. Gamora takes a moment late in the
afternoon to still, take a deep breath of the moon’s air, and be thankful. The
air smells floral, fresh rather than cloying. It fills her lungs rapidly and
eases out as swiftly as it came in.
She turns back to the Nova officers
passing up energy packs to the people perched on the higher scaffolding and
pauses, hand caught against the crates she was about to pick up, watching as
Peter exchanges a warm, full-bodied grin with one of the officers he’s working alongside.
It’s been a day filled with the simple labour of heavy lifting and fielding
cargo and keeping a lazy eye out for unlikely signs of trouble, and she could
see the goodness of it earlier, in Rocket’s laughter and Groot’s energy, Drax’s
good humor and the way Mantis held her shoulders. Gamora watches, eyes skating
over the dust prints on the hem of his shirt and the grease streaking through
clumped locks of his hair where he’d inevitably ran a hand through it at some
point during the day. Peter’s characteristic, casual affection is evident in
the slope of his torso and the tilt of his head, and in the familiar offer of
friendship in his laugh. The officer alongside him smiles, equally at ease, and
grips his shoulder before moving on to help someone else with some other
Thanks for the request @ashleykaiba sorry it took so long to get finished!
As 5 year old twins Oliver and Olivia sat in the crowd with their mother in the Barclays center they awaited their favorite wwe superstar of all time who also happened to be their father, the twins were a result of a three year relationship that (Y/N) and Finn had shared, they were even engaged to be married but once the twins were born things quickly became bad.. they fought a lot from lack of sleep, finn was constantly on the road leaving (Y/N) to be home caring for the two infants who were also born 3 months prematurely little Oliver was born first and weighed 2 pounds and 3 ounces with his mother’s features, however little Olivia had always been the smaller of the two.. she was born last and weighed a whole 1 pound and 7 ounces, and she had her father’s features.. his bright blue eyes and sharp jaw, she was touch and go for a while but Finn would always tell the story of when ever Olivia was first born he went into the NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit) and place his finger inside the incubator and the little girl wrapped her tiny hand around his pinky and grasped onto it not letting go
“You’ve got quite the grip little girl.. I think you’re strong than you’re letting on..” he would say to her which also lead to her becoming the leader between the two, whatever she did her brother was sure to follow…
As (Y/N) watched the two children jump up and down upon hearing their father’s entrance music she couldn’t help but smile they had a bond with him that was something she would never take away..
As they were backstage (Y/N) was discussing things with Fergal about the upcoming week, the twins would be staying with him for the week since they were on spring break from school
“Mama likes him” Little Olivia said confidently
“How do you know?” Oliver asked questioning his younger sister
“Cause.. I’m a girl I know!” She said determined
“Whatever you say..” Oliver said rolling his little eyes
“Trust me.. they’re gonna get back together”
“How do you know that?” He questioned once more
“Because! If they don’t do it we will” she said
“I don’t know.. this sounds like a scary idea” Oliver said timid
“Do you want them back together or not?” Olivia raised her eyebrows and folded her arms as she looked at her brother
“What’s the plan?” He asked and she leaned in to whisper the plan in his ear
It was half way through the week when Olivia decided to put the plan in action, she decided to Stowe away in the backseat of becky Lynch and Carmella telling the two girls her father had agreed to the idea all the while Finn had no idea
“Oliver!” Finn said sternly as he walked into the locker room “where’s your sister?” He asked
“I dunno” Oliver shrugged and Finn could tell he was lying
“Oliver James!” Finn said sternly
“I don’t know!” He said back sternly and Finn walked out of the room and pulled his phone from his pocket dialing a familiar number
“Hello?” Y/N answered
“(Y/N), don’t kill me..” Finn started
“Who doesn’t have have a limb? Which one pushed the other? What happened?” (Y/N) asked quickly knowing something was wrong
“They have all their limbs.. I think..” Finn said and Oliver walked out grabbing the phone from his father
“Mom.. dad lost Liv..” Oliver said and finn snatched the phone back from his son
“What? How do you lose a person?!?” (Y/N) yelled
“She’s so small.. she easy to misplace” he said quickly
“Just.. keep looking.. I’m on my way” (Y/N) said
(Y/N) arrived at the venue a few hours later and was met by a distraught looking Finn, she walked up to him with every intent to yell at him but when she saw the panic in his eyes that anger soon faded away and she grabbed his hands in hers
“We’ll find her” (Y/N) said looking in his eyes
“I’m sorry.. I’m such a bad father, what kind of father doesn’t notice his child isn’t there?” He asked scolding himself
“No.. no you’re not, there’s two of them.. you’re only one person.. I’ve misplaced Oliver once or twice..” she said
“You have?” Finn asked
“Given he was always found 2 minutes later.. but nonetheless” she said
“What if she’s not found?” He asked tears threatening to escape his eyes and she grabbed his face bringing it to hers as she gently placed her lips on his and pulled away slowly
“Better?” She whispered and he nodded
A few hours later Oliver noticed Becky and Carmella walking back into the venue with Olivia following close behind
“I believe we have something that belongs to you” Becky said pushing Olivia towards her parents who quickly engulfed her in their tight embrace
“Don’t you ever do that again! Do you hear me?” Finn scolded
“Okay daddy..” Olivia said sweetly and he put her down and Olivia ran to Oliver hugging him and the two looked at their parents as they shared another kiss
“Told ya…” Olivia said to Oliver who high fived her
John and Sherlock sharing a bed in some cheap run down motel that hasn’t been updated since 1972 and it’s fucking awkward because John’s so in love with Sherlock it practically makes him cross-eyed, and he’s desperate and doesn’t know how else to break the tension so he leans over and puts a pound into bed’s built in “magic fingers” massage unit and the whole bed starts rattling and shaking and they both lay there absolutely mad with laughter, red-faced and breathless, and Sherlock rolls over to jab accusingly at John’s side, if it gets stuck like this, I swear to God, and John swats at him and catches his hand–just as the bed stops–and they’re there, stuck, unmoving, too close, eyes caught, and finally John just mutters, oh, for god’s sake, and he leans in and kisses Sherlock short and hard and quick, and draws back like well?? what do you have to say for yourself? but Sherlock just follows him, catches his mouth again, and if the bed shakes after that, well, it’s not really the bed’s fault.
Somebody sent this to me but I can’t find the artist, if any of y'all know please let me know so I can credit them/offer my humble apologies for posting their art without permission, it was too awesome not to share
I love you and you're wonderful. Your blog always brings a smile to my face, no matter how bad my day has been:) Thank you for that. And you're writing is A+++ I use it as a reward for studying:)
Anon, you are the most actual sweetest, and this comment brought a smile to my face after a rubbish day.
“But I don’t want to,” said Ereinion Gil-Galad, pouting his most appealing pout.
“You cannot be king of a realm you do not know,” said his father. “Now name the seven rivers that feed the Gelion in Ossiriand.”
“But!” said Ereinion. “But how can I come to know our lands through books and scrolls? To know a country one must walk its roads, drink from its rivers and lay down in its green fields. One must talk with a land’s people on matters great and small.”
“That is an excellent point,” said High King Fingon. “For all that you stole it from your Uncle Maglor’s verse. Well remembered all the same.” He glanced at the bright diamonds of green forest and blue sky shown through the mullioned windows of his study and tried to quiet the longing in his own heart. “A king must also know when to compromise,” he declared at last. “Go pack your saddlebags; it’s time to introduce you to your realms.”
Three weeks later, Fingon and Ereinion stood in that same study, endeavouring to take their scolding with an appropriately kingly mien. Fingon’s husband, who was sat behind Fingon’s desk with his flesh and metal fingers steepled and his eyes shining disconcertingly, cleared his throat. “Well?”
“When you were Ereinion’s age, your father would vanish into the wilds with you at the drop of a hat,” Fingon said defensively. “He wouldn’t even trouble to leave a note.” He gestured to the scrap parchment he had left pinned to his desk with a hunting knife, almost a month before.
“In Valinor,” said Maedhros. “Do you know what’s interesting about Valinor? There are no dragons there.”
“The dragon was unanticipated,” Fingon said, rather wishing that he were back in Ard-Galen, facing the beast again full grown. His husband’s fangs were as sharp as the dragon’s and his tongue was sharper still.
“Unanticipated? So unanticipated you had no choice but to engage in personal combat? He could have died. You could have died!”
“I drew you a picture, Da,” Ereinion said sheepishly, which halted Maedhros’ tirade as abruptly as a volley of arrows halted a dragon’s charge.
“Thank you, Ereinion,” he managed, the fell light in his eyes dimming as Ereinion held up his gift in nervous, taloned hands.
“I highlighted the interesting anatomical features and potential weak points,” he said proudly. “Also I drew me with a flamey sword and Papa in a magic dragon helmet and the long one is you.”
“It’s very good. Is that your Papa’s bow? And is the structure of the patagium accurate? That’s excellent. Go call for a bath, Ereinion. You both stink of sulphur.”
“I am sorry,” Fingon said, when Ereinion had left the room. “But no harm was done.”
Maedhros smiled ruefully. “I suppose I of all people can’t criticise you for strolling in and out of danger. Just leave our son at home next time.”
“I will.” Fingon tracked sooty footprints across the carpet as he strolled around the desk to kiss Maedhros’ cheek. He left an ashy smudge there too. “We must place a better watch upon Ard-Galen.”
“Agreed. And distribute copies of this-” Maedhros held up Ereinion’s picture “-to every unit.” Running his fingers over the scrawled, clumsy lines, he added; “We’re pining the original up in the pantry.”
Pairing: KakaSaku (It’s kinda backgroundy/alluded to) Rating: Fluff Warnings: There’s a healthy dose of salt here, and child neglect but mostly the FLUFFIEST FLUFF. Sarada is an angry little ball of angst.
Additional note: This fic is not canon compliant. I’ll warn
folk now, that I am not watching/reading the new ‘Boruto’ as it’s BS.
<~ personal feelings here, each to their own and all that. The
characters in this fic are portrayed loosely as from what I saw from the
last chapter of Naruto and no further.