why did i type that all in capitals

national hot dad alliance is now calling... - Chapter 3 - dicaeopolis, OwlinAMinor - Haikyuu!! [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

the captains’ squad interactions that definitely happen outside of canon, presented in Skype chat form; chapter 3 of 6; currently totals 17k; entrance of ushiwaka and a bunch of other stuff that may or may not be related; cowritten by myself and @dicaeopolis


perfectkawa ✌: im
perfectkawa ✌: i m

perfectkawa ✌ has left the group.

ur favorite lolcat: trash that takes itself out
ur favorite lolcat: technology is amazing
ur favorite lolcat: actually though come back
ur favorite lolcat: theres nobody to torment bokuto with when ur gone
Quad God: What about me?
ur favorite lolcat: ur too nice to torment anyone sawamura
Quad God: I suppose I’ll take that as a compliment.
ur favorite lolcat: chill
ur favorite lolcat: why’re you shouting
ur favorite lolcat: no i mean all the capital letters

inlovebynecessity-deactivated20  asked:

Sherlolly, 4, pretty please. Cause teacher/single parent au's give me life!

It takes her two knocks to answer the door.

“Miss Hooper.”

“Mr Holmes.” Scruffier than her usual neat appearance, with eyebrows raised high, her clothing isn’t based on fruit but cartoon cats. A real-life version shoots past her legs into the house, a sleek grey line of fur sliding between the gap of the door. His son’s primary school teacher sinks her features into a frown, perhaps fully registering his presence for the first time.

“How did you get hold of my address?”

Sherlock holds up the reason for his visit. She stares at the proffered stack of paper in surprise.

“Marcus’ science homework.”

“I marked it, yes.”

“I made a few adjustments.”

She opens the door a little wider, adopting the stance of a teacher, a straight back and blank face only slightly exasperated. “Mr Holmes, though I know parents do help their children with their homework on occasion, official policy does state that children complete assignments on their own—”

“To your marking.”

She blinks. Offence crosses into the teacherly expression.


He takes back the paper, scanning through it. “You mentioned here somewhere that a discussion of the Coronal heating problem was not necessary for the homework you set. You set a question about planetary orbit, did you not?”

“Mr Holmes—”

“Ah, you also mention that discussion of the cause of the Maunder Minimum is irrelevant—”

She scoffs, cutting him off. “I never said that!”

Before he can reply, she grabs the paper from him, scanning the neatly typed up words. “If you actually look at my markings, I said – wait – why have you written wrong across it? In all capitals?”

“Because your theory was wrong.”

“I was positing an alternative! And,” she breathes, gathering her composure, “if we could return to the actual point – look, what I said here. ‘This is very interesting, but isn’t related to the question.”

“The Maunder Minimum is extremely relevant to the question.”

“If you’re writing a university physics paper, Mr Holmes, yes. However, your son is in Year 4. The Maunder Minimum isn’t on the—” She comes to an abrupt stop, glancing behind him. He turns, eyebrow raised. An elderly woman, curlers in her hair, is staring at them from the doorway house opposite, frowning with disapproval in her prune-like face.

“I could hear you two over my television programme,” she says, sniffing and glaring. Molly shrinks under the admonishment.

“Apologies Mrs Fenwick,” Molly replies, her hand grabbing his arm. With surprising strength, she tugs him into the house, shutting the door, giving a wave to the disapproving neighbour. “Sorry!”

She turns on him, and all argument fades from her face. He chuckles, the chuckle becoming a full-blown laugh.

“Shut up,” she says, throwing herself forward and wrapping her arms around his neck. He catches her with ease, letting his laugh fade as he kisses her. She eyes him when they pull apart.

“Did you really have to lecture me about my marking on my doorstep?”

“I came over earlier, noted your delightful Mrs Fenwick hadn’t fallen asleep yet.” Sherlock shrugs. “A necessary precaution. As was, I assume, your pointed question about me getting hold of your address?”

“You’re not the only one concerned about neighbours. Seriously, though – Marcus is a child genius, but you’ve got to slow him down.” Molly skillfully ignores his wandering hands as she speaks, so he kisses her neck. She moans, but pushes her hands lightly against his chest. “The other kids feel like morons. And I work in a school that caters specifically for child geniuses.”

“It doesn’t help that he’s got Sherlock Holmes for a father,” she adds, though her playful smile gives her away.

“I’ll talk to him. Now – shall we argue until your neighbour falls asleep or go upstairs?”

Molly answers him by grabbing his hand and leading him upstairs to the back bedroom. Removing his coat, making to remove her dressing gown, he kisses her, nibbling on her bottom lip.

“I really do have some queries about your marking, however, Miss Hooper.”

Molly unceremoniously pushes him onto her bed in reply. “We’ll discuss them later.”

Send me a ship and a number and I’ll write you a short fic!

Sweeter Than Chocolate

Summary: You’re spending your day off with a blanket and some Hershey’s Kisses when Steve comes in. Wouldn’t it be great if you could get more than one type of kiss? 

Warnings: Language??

Word count: 990

A/N: Please let me know what you think! This isn’t my first oneshot but it is my first time posting on Tumblr. I’d love to know where I could improve. Other than that, happy reading ^^

Today was your day off. No one in the tower had need of you and it was summer so you didn’t have any school work due. After a grateful morning of sleeping in and then reading, you pulled out some chocolate from your hidden stash and plopped down in front of the TV in your room. It had been a long while since you last got the whole day to yourself, and you were ecstatic about getting one now, just in time for you to binge watch your favourite show’s newest season. Between all of the Hydra bases needing clearing and supervising the Avengers so they didn’t pull each others throats out, you hadn’t been able to watch a single episode, forced to sadly sit and watch the season pass you by.

At long last, you were able to cuddle into the couch, wrapped in a soft blanket Steve got you for Christmas a while back (it may be summer, but Tony loved his AC) and begin your marathon. In a way, this was better than waiting a whole week for the next episode, but you still needed to wait a whole year - or two depending on the show - to see the next season.

“(Y/N)?” You heard Steve ask through your door.

“Door’s unlocked!” You called through a mouthful of chocolate. Steve peeked in before actually walking through the threshold, his manners getting the better of him. He walked up to you and leaned on the couch’s back.

“It’s like 80 degrees in here and you’re using a blanket?” He raised an eyebrow smugly.

“I’m coldblooded?” You suggested.

Steve chuckled and looked at the screen curiously, head tilted like a puppy.

“What’re you watching?” He asked after a few moments.

“My favourite show, care to join me?” You patted the couch beside you and smiled. He shrugged and gracefully vaulted over the couch, landing right beside you. For the rest of the episode you tried, and failed, to pay attention. The thing was, Steve was so close to you and his arm was resting on the couch behind your neck lazily. No matter how much you told yourself you didn’t like him, it was obvious you were lying. How could you not love him when he smiled his cute you-know-I’m-a-hero-with-a-heart-of-gold smile? You couldn’t, that’s how.

So when you picked up a piece of chocolate and saw him stare at you, you couldn’t help but get a great idea. Almost putting it in your mouth, you flicked your gaze to Steve’s blue hues.

“What’s that?” He asked, unfamiliar with the certain type of chocolate.

“A Kiss. Why, did you want one?” You asked, realizing how it sounded and blushing. Steve’s cheeks tinted pink as well, before replying.

“If you have one to spare,” he rubbed his neck shyly. You couldn’t help but giggle.

“That’s a shame, ‘cause this is the last one.” You popped it into your mouth with an evil smirk.

“Awe that’s no fair (Y/N),” He pouted, displaying those sad puppy dog eyes.

“Neither is capitalism, Uncle Sam.” You laughed, “but I never said you couldn’t have a taste.”

While he sported a confused look you mustered up all of your courage and leaned in, pressing your lips together hesitantly. The poor soldier was shocked for a while, but after a moment he kissed back, one hand holding himself up and the other wrapping around the small of your back. You ran your tongue across his bottom lip, which he responded to almost immediately.

Steve had never kissed someone like this before. He had kissed Peggy a few times, sure, but there was never any tongue swirling or this feeling of his gut twisting in the nicest way possible. You, however, had added a sweet twist to this new experience, because while he was still distracted by the fact that wow, you were kissing him and wow, did it feel good, you were busy passing on the melted Hershey’s Kiss he thought you ate.

And suddenly, everything was sweet and chocolatey and your arms were wrapped around his neck. It was nearly impossible to tell if it was you or the chocolate that made his stomach flip, but he had a feeling it was you.

You were surprised at how good Steve was at kissing. To your knowledge, he’d hardly had any practice in the field. But, you supposed, you shouldn’t be surprised. Someone so sweet and kind couldn’t possibly be bad at it, and Steve was far from bad.

You pulled away, both of you panting for air. You only turned more scarlet after thinking about what you just did. In an embarrassed attempt to hide it, you used a sleeve to wipe at your mouth and cheeks, looking away from Steve’s breathless form under you. Apparently your kiss was so deep that you didn’t realize you’d moved to straddling the soldier.

“Wow…” Steve gulped, lightly touching his lips and already missing the warmth of yours against them.

“U-um sorry. That was uncalled for.” You stammered, starting to get off his lap. Steve chuckled at your red face and held your waist in place.

“I’m not complaining.” He smiled up at you with his ocean blue eyes sparkling. His hand cupped your cheek and led you back down to his soft lips for another sweet kiss. It didn’t last nearly as long, but it was still just as good. Afterwards, you and Steve cuddled up and continued watching your show.

“Hey (Y/N)?” He asked softly, his chin resting on top of your head.


“That wasn’t your last piece of chocolate, was it?”

“Nope, did you want a proper piece?” You giggled, shifting to grab another Kiss and handing it to him. Steve ate it silently.

“I think your kisses are sweeter.” He smirked.

“You smooth bastard,” you giggled, turning and kissing him lightly.

“Language,” He dropped another one of those smiles you loved and hugged you tighter.