In a culture where children get to choose their own names, newborns are given “baby names” to be used only temporarily. But one child decides to keep their baby name as they grow older, despite everyone thinking it’s weird, and the fact that the name doesn’t suit an adult at all.
Things I need to happen (to men) at Worlds in Hel(l)sinki 2017
1. Yuzuru Hanyu winning the World Title again (with deserving performances please) 2. The Wedding Pose ritual on the podium 3. Shoma Uno and Yuzuru Hanyu on the podium because otherwise 2. won’t be possible 4. Yuzuvier-Bromance-moments, being it at practice sessions, on the podium, at the gala or all three 5. Respect for all skaters by all fans AFTER the competition (because hate towards skaters is just meeeeh) 6. A great Gala with group coreography, funny skaters and much dorkiness 7. Yuzuru Hanyu being able to skate clean and smile like a ray of sunshine 8. No case of annoyingly obvious overscoring (is that possible?)
10. Nathan Chen still being a quad machine because if all of the above still comes true despite this, that just means everyone went absolutely wild with the jumps out there on the ice. 11. Yuzuru Hanyu’s clean skate extends to the gala because his exhibition program is absolutely divine.
still weird, Yuuri decided as he kissed his fiancé back.
His fucking fiancé.
How did that
Yuuri still had
trouble believing that it was all real. That Victor Nikiforov, the Victor Nikiforov, the same one Yuuri
had nursed a crush on since, like, forever,
was currently wearing a golden ring on his finger. A ring that Yuuri himself
had put there with slightly trembling fingers.
How did he even
get the guts to do that?
thinking too much again,” Victor, the same Victor, his fiancé Victor complained, pressing his mouth softly against
Yuuri’s as if he was trying to pull him back into the mood, but Yuuri was too–
sorry,” he replied, blushing sheepishly. “You’re just very
It made Victor
grin, a little crooked smile that looked simply stunning on his face. Victor’s
cheeks were delicately flushed and his eyes sparkled warmly with love and
delight. How did Yuuri get so lucky? He remembered everything that happened
during the last year, but even now, sitting in Victor’s lap, with Victor’s
thumbs rubbing slow circles into his hipbones, Yuuri felt a little like
Was it close to
midnight yet? Would he have to leave the ball, leave this happiness when the
hands of the clock meet?
love,” Victor murmured, kissing the corner of Yuuri’s mouth again and
Yuuri couldn’t help the way it twitched into a smile under his lips.
“What’s so distracting about me now?”
Yuuri choked on
his laugh a bit. “How about everything? Ever? Have you met me,
as well, pulling Yuuri into himself until Yuuri was almost lying on top of his
chest. Victor’s nose gently touched Yuuri’s, their foreheads leaned together, a
tender caress that melted Yuuri’s heart and made his eyes suddenly grow hotter
when all the love and affection hit him hard.
I have,” Victor said. “Best night of my life.”
“The banquet is taboo, we talked about this.”
Victor made a
face at him, like a kicked puppy, and Yuuri only had to take one look to reach
out and push Victor’s cheeks up into a smile with his fingers. They both
Victor said. “How about China then? That is another best night of my
Yuuri shook his
head in slight exasperation. “How many best nights do you have?”
let’s see,” Victor hummed, counting out. “There’s the banquet, okay,
okay, I’m not saying more! Then the China Cup, and Barcelona. Oh,
Barcelona!” He sighed, his mouth a happy, heart-mouth smile that made
Yuuri blush. “That proposal was spectacular. And then you went and won
silver, talk about best nights, huh?”
something under his breath, but Victor only grinned at him and let it slide,
asking instead: “What about yours, Yuuri?”
He didn’t have
to think about it. He really didn’t.
twelve,” Yuuri said immediately, watching Victor’s eye lose the spark for
a moment when he realized it wasn’t about their relationship. Yuuri smirked a
little. “It was the night I watched the junior skating championship for
the first time. And there was this one skater that just took my breath
away.” Yuuri smiled fondly at the memory. “I couldn’t fall asleep at
all that night, my heart was beating so fast. So I googled that skater and
watched all of the videos available just to see him again.”
sounds like quite a night,” Victor smiled at him. “Is he the reason
you took up skating?”
Yuuri agreed. “He’s my inspiration, my motivation, my guiding star, you
might say. And, hopefully soon, my husband, too.”
He grinned, even
though his cheeks were stinging red – it was embarrassing to say out loud.
reaction was worth it: the surprise on him looked stunning, and Yuuri would
never get over the rush in his veins at the heartbeat of pause in Victor’s
breathing before a high keen left his lips. It was no wonder Victor based his performances
around the emotion. It was quite addicting, Yuuri had to admit.
Victor cooed, crushing Yuuri in his arms. “You should’ve told me
didn’t know,” Yuuri snorted into Victor’s neck, wrapping his arms around
his shoulders comfortably. “I know you found my stash of posters one day,
Mari told me.”
contrite at all. In fact, Yuuri could feel the grin pressed against his head.
Victor said. It only served to make Yuuri snort again.
close like that for a long, comfortable moment, before Victor slowly pulled
back and tilted Yuuri’s chin to make their eyes meet. Blue against brown, both
meltingly warm and full of love.
spent so long chasing after me that it’s only fair that I chase after you for
the rest of our lives,” he said, but Yuuri shook his head at him with a
when you’ve already got me?” he asked.
And when Victor
leaned in to kiss him again, it was no less weird than before. But it was their
weird and in a weird, completely silly way that Yuuri couldn’t have explained
even if he tried, that made it just perfect.
Would you guys be wiling to do one that doesn't have Steve in it but is all about Steve? I'm thinking of Fury's initial meeting w/ Sharon asking her to protect Steve. Then, subsequent meetings where she reports relevant happenings. But since there are no relevant happenings (until TWS), Sharon's reports consist mainly of Steve's general comings and goings, his lame attempts to hit on her, and the embarrassing stuff he does when he's alone.
“Did you think I didn’t
know?” Fury raised an eyebrow.
“I think my recruiter
didn’t look into it. I expected you
would know, sir.” Sharon stood at parade
rest, only allowing the slightest twich of her lips towards a smile.
Fury hummed. “It’s why you’re here. And not why you’re here.”
“Sir?” She liked Suduko, crosswords and
thousand-piece puzzles. Fury was more
like one of the Fates speaking in riddles than anything else.
“I chose you for this
assignment because Former Director Carter wouldn’t trust anyone else with this
detail. I also chose you for this assignment because regardless of whose
blood you’ve got, you’re the only one I trust with this assignment.”
Sharon let out a slow,
steady breath, feeling the tension bleed out of her shoulders. “Thank you, sir.”
Fury was mulling over a
stack of paperwork, steam curling from his World’s
Best Boss mug that sat at his left elbow.
(She was pretty sure it was a gift from Natasha).
“Your monthly report,
Fury looked up, and sat
back. “Go on.”
“Exercise commences at
0400 hours each day, and ends at 0600.
Grocery shopping every other day, a—“
“—Single or multiple
“Supersoldiers only need
single trips, sir.”
Fury smirked and sipped
“Between 1400 and 1600
hours each Sunday he cleans and sings. He
orders take out once each week, only on Saturdays for his weekly movie marathon. He’s reached the 80s, if I’m not
mistaken. There were a lot of lightsaber noises and don’t-you-forget-about-me’s coming from his apartment last week. And the joke about his midday coffee run
being ‘A mission from God’.”
“Anything unusual or
concerning to report?”
“The number of times he’s
watched Indiana Jones is concerning.”
“He was reckless in the
field before, sir. I worry what new
ideas he’s been picking up.”
Fury smiled, all
teeth. “This is exactly why I chose you for this assignment, agent.”
Your mother & I
dance under a cloudy sky
in an ambience dim;
raindrops hang off my hat’s brim
fall they do when her I dip
tears they become upon her quivering lip;
like dew dusking a tulip
here we embrace; in a blip –
gone the days, the memories
into a haze disappear the reveries
And so the music no one hears
tapers off as time to depart nears
I kiss her hand and she looks away
her sights set on another bay;
Gliding over the waters’ spray
she leaves dappled with dismay
I watch her go, feet firm on the shore
…it begins to pour.
🦇- If your muse had wings, would they be feathered and bird-like, leathery bat-like wings, or insect-like fairy or butterfly wings?
🙊- How good are they at keeping secrets?
🎖- Is your muse the “forgive and forget” type or do they hold grudges?
⚖️- If your muse had superpowers, what would they be?
📐- Did your muse get an education? What was their best subject in their studies?
🖋- If your muse was an author/poet, what kind of stories would they write about?
📕- What “Banned Books” could you see your muse reading?
🔖- When they shop, does the price or product matter more?
🐶- If your muse was forced to get a pet, what would they get?
✌️-How often did they get into trouble as a kid?
⭐️- What’s their favorite constellation in the night sky?
🍼- Would your muse raise an abandoned orphan they found or opt to relocate them to an orphanage instead?
🏄♀️- What kind of leisurely sports do they partake in on their downtime?
💐- What are their favorite flowers?
👑- How would your muse react if they suddenly found out that they were the long-lost heir to a rich kingdom?
👒- If your muse were to take someone on a first date, where would they go and how would they behave?
💥- if Your muse wakes up with complete amnesia, how would they react? How scared would they be? What caused it?
🍳- What does your muse’s typical breakfast, lunch, and dinner look like after their larder has been fully replenished?
🎣- Would your muse go fishing for any reason? Would they catch-and-eat or catch-and-release?
🎼- What part in a choir would your muse sing? Soprano (½), Bass, Tenor, or Alto?
🎬- Pick three movies you could see your muse watching (and enjoying)
🎨- Find two famous pieces of artwork you think your muse would enjoy.
Imagine a convo like this during the Orion Pax arc...
You... used Dark Energon? How?
I... inserted it directly into my own spark, then I--
Hold on. Wait.
Orion (to Soundwave):
Did he really...?
Oh Primus, Creator of all, what THE FRAG were you thinking?!?
*scoff* You don't think I could have handled the power?
YOU COULD HAVE DIED! I don't give a scrap heap about whether you could control it or not. Megatron, you placed the very essence of death and destruction into your spark chamber!
And what would have happened then? If you had ceased to function?
You constantly belittle Starscream's command-- publicly. It's clear to everyone who follows you-- and possibly our enemy-- that you don't want Starscream to lead! You waste his time and talents with the promise of leadership opportunities...
*growls* I promise NOTHING.
...Even when he performs his duties amicably and efficiently, you give him no reward. What message does that send to your troops?
His reward is his life! The fact that I allow that traitorous mech to even function on my ship... he should be grateful.
...So you don't actually trust him, or LIKE HIM enough to be a true heir to the Decepticons.
No. I do not trust him.
Alright, then what about Soundwave?
*stops his work and quietly excuses himself. Nope, not doing this today.*
-- DOORS CLOSE --
What about Soundwave? You know him too, he has been here since the beginning.
He may have been here the longest but he is not meant for as large a role as leader... and he knows it too.
Soundwave is my most loyal. I trust him completely. The only reason I don't have him as my second is so that we can BOTH keep an optic on Starscream. Get to your POINT, Orion!
MY POINT IS THAT YOU DON'T THINK!
You disappeared for 3 years, leaving Starscream to care for and coordinate your armies.
He does a fine job continuing your expansion whether you like it or not, and even takes out a member of the primary Autobot squadron.
Energon production is not up significantly, but it's not down either-- likely the best anyone could have done in times like these.
But then you return, beating and tossing him this way and that, barely even acknowledging his work!
Your troops see this, and any respect Starscream has garnered during his time commanding has gone out the window.
And you MUST know this, somewhere in your processor. And I know you are also aware that Soundwave could not have filled your pedes in your absence, otherwise you would have specified as such.
But then what do you do? YOU STAB YOUR SPARK WITH A DARK ENERGY EVEN THOUGH YOU CANNOT COMPREHEND IT'S EFFECTS!
If you had died, Starscream could not resume his command after you laid waste to everyone's opinion of him. Soundwave could not have taken over because he simply could not handle it.
There would be a power vacuum. Any and all strong Decepticons within a few stellar cycles journey from here would compete for dominance, dividing your forces. The message would be lost... your armies, scattered.
The Autobots... would WIN.
*gets up to loom over Orion/Optimus*
You seem to have a lot to say for someone who has essentially been in stasis for millions of vorns.
*huff* All I'm saying is that you aren't using your intellect and prospective reasoning! You keep acting on your first instinct instead of thinking things through. What happened to the strategist? The gladiator with a plan?
... talk to me. What is it about the Autobots that make you lose your focus?
*knocks hand away* We will discuss this later, Orion.
... do you even know what it's doing to your spark now? I doubt you can fully purge Dark Energon, as energy can neither be created nor destroyed.
*reaches out* Please... as your friend, I am asking you to seek medical attention... if only so we can better understand what must happen now.
//whispers tuckington for "how about you make me" bc I will never tire of that line ASK SARO I NEVER THANKED YOU FOR THE DELIGHTFUL TUCKINGTON YOU MESSAGED ME ON SUNDAY!!!! It made my busy stressful Sunday a momentary DELIGHT
(you are WELCOME i try very hard to delight)
“You,” Washington says, putting every possible amount of weight and force into three precious syllables at 0500 hours, “motherfucker.”
Tucker takes a sip from one of the four cups of Koffy surrounding his little fortress of half a dozen sticky buns. “Hey, you snooze you lose,”
Washington wants to remind him that this is a small, private officers meeting and he should be at least a little professional, but he is tired and mad and Tucker took all of the fucking Koffy for himself.
“Give,” he says, and points at one of the cups.
“How about,” Tucker says, all slow and deliberate as he takes a delicate nibble off the edge of his third sticky bun - his third! He isn’t even eating one he’s just taking little claiming bites off of each, the monster - “you make me?”
“That’s one way to do it.”
Washington reaches for a cup; Tucker bats his hand away. Washington glares and tries again; Tucker, as well, repeats his gesture. “You gotta make a deal with me. You know. Exchange same goods for–”
Washington tunes out the rest, sleepy brain making the obvious connection. He stands, walks over, grabs Tucker on either side of the face and kisses him with all of the coordination and passion he can dredge up at such a godawful hour. Which isn’t that much, but it is hopefully worth the cup of Koffy that Washington can taste as Tucker leans into the kiss.
They break apart for breath after an unknown amount of time, but still close enough that Washington can feel Tucker’s nervous laugh and softly whispered “dude, I was just gonna try to get you to swap shifts training the kids with me.”
His sleepy, smoldering contentment is replaced all at once with electric, ice-cold horror. Washington yanks himself backwards as hard as he can, too late registering the weight across his shoulders as Tucker’s hands on the back of his neck; they end up on the ground in tangled heap, with Washington’s hands trying to scramble backwards but his legs very securely tangled with Tucker’s.
“If you want me to kiss you so badly,” Tucker says, on his hands and knees with his nose nearly bumping Washington’s, “you could just ask.”
The air feels charged between them, and there’s so many things Washington wants to say all crowding in the back of his throat. He swallows, and mutters, “stop stealing shit, first.”
“What? Like this?” Another kiss, one soft and sweet and brief that makes Washington chase his mouth.
“Just a couple more, then Koffy,” Washington says, holding himself up with one arm while the other ensures Tucker doesn’t escape. “Then the meeting. Then more, later.”
And of course that’s when the door opens, admitting Simmons, who freezes in the doorway with a squawk. “Fuck!” He takes a stumbling step forward, then Grif is peering over his shoulder.
“Oh, you whores,” the sim-trooper laments, as Washington shoves Tucker off him with a little too much force, “that’s where all the sticky buns went.”
nsfwish in things that are implied/stated to have happened — be careful kiddos \o\
Oh, was Adrien’s first thought when he woke up that morning, that was a good dream.
…Really good, was his second, tinged with mild confusion and backing the tight, rough hum that escaped him on a sigh. He’d fallen asleep in his day clothes somehow, but even the scratch of the seams and the way his jeans were digging into his hips couldn’t put a damper on the buzz of languid pleasure that suffused him from head to toe.
His alarm went off in his pocket, something Adrien only distantly noted as he pulled it out and silenced it, head deliciously empty.
Sometimes I feel inhuman, cold hearted, detached from this world I live in. Sometimes I look at myself in the mirror and discover in horror of who I’ve become. Sometimes I wish these feeling could just disappear. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever find myself again. Just sometimes.
Microfic! Smol!Shiro and Hunk, pasta with jam sauce. :)
oh my god yes
“I’m so sorry, guys,” Hunk says hopelessly.
“Is this some sort of Earth delicacy?” Allura asks, poking delicately at her plate with her spork. The teal noodles squish unappealingly beneath the bright maroon sauce liberally coating the rest of the food.
“Uh,” Pidge says, gulping queasily.
“Normally the noodles aren’t blue, I’ll give you that,” Lance offers weakly. Even the mice have abandoned them, turning their noses away from Lance’s offered spork and darting away from the table. (They’re probably in the kitchen hunting down the food goo. Lucky things.) “Hunk, it’s not that I don’t like your cooking-”
“We made ‘pasghetti!” Shiro announces with delight. He’s halfway through his plate already, practically inhaling the overly sweet dinner offering. “Hunk let me help!”
“Slow down there,” Keith says, instead of touching his own meal. He leans over, gently but firmly placing his hand over Shiro’s grip around the spork. “You’ll make yourself sick. Chew that bite first.”
“Aww,” Shiro says, with his mouth full.
Allura, typically interested in many of Hunk’s edible creations, is still wrinkling her nose at her plate. “Your - ‘noodles’ - are normally flavored with starberries? Are you quite certain this is edible?”
“He was so excited,” Hunk tries.
“How exotic!” Coran declares. He swallows the last bite of his rather sizable portion and holds out his cleared plate with a flourish. “Serve up another one, Number Two! This Food Lion’s hungry for more!”
Shiro laughs out loud at the silly face Coran pulls; Pidge takes advantage of the distraction to push her bowl several inches away from her. “Glad somebody else can eat this.”
“I’ll make something else later,” Hunk offers, a desperate peace solution. “Sorry, guys.”
“Yes please,” Pidge groans.
Lance swallows, face pale as Hunk dishes up another portion to hand back to Coran. “I’ll help. After Shiro’s in bed.”
“No, Lance.” Allura says firmly. “The timing is not optimal. You will be too busy with Shiro for too long.”
“Maybe if Lance read Shiro two bedtime stories instead of five,” Pidge quips, adjusting her glasses with a smirk.
“Hey!” Lance protests.
Allura shakes her head, point proven. “Precisely. If someone else is with Hunk in the kitchen, we can have a fresh round of dinner completely prepared by the time Lance has - what is your phrase? ‘Tucked Shiro in’?”
“Yes,” Lance says, slowly. Coran’s building some sort of food-mountain out of his second helping; Shiro’s giggling, delighted and fully oblivious. “But - ”
“Then it’s settled.” Allura lays her spork down, sitting up straight with a regal toss of her hair. “I will assist Hunk instead.”
Allura’s just as bad in the kitchen as Shiro. Pidge pales. Hunk gulps.
“I’ll do it,” Keith volunteers. The sigh of relief around the table’s practically audible. “You have enough going on, Princess. Shiro, if I let you have your spork back, you have to promise to take smaller bites.”
Shiro sulks, sticking his lower lip out. “I know how to eat ‘pasghetti.”
“You know how to get it all over your face,” Keith says, fondly, but lets Shiro have the spork anyway. “Chew this time. I’m watching.”
“'kay,” Shiro says happily, and tucks right back in to his pasta and jam.