coffeehouse washmaine?
Anonym

kinda au stuff? kinda?? ??

———

So, you come here often?

The datapad gets slid right on top of his own datapad, where he’s cradling it between his forearms.

Wash looks up at Maine and rolls his eyes.

"Really?" Maine gives him a smug grin before sitting down with his own coffee. "Send me those coordinates, I want to double-check something."

Maine sends them with a quick swipe of his finger and then leans back in his chair; Wash watches him catalog and map every entry and exit in the small cafe.

"I still think that beard looks ridiculous.”

It's just five-o'clock shadow, not a beard, and it looks civilian. Which is what we're supposed to be.

Wash shakes his head and drains the rest of his coffee before looking back down at his datapad. Maine cracks his neck and stretches out his legs so that their shins are pressed together.

The next train is in seven minutes, which means it'll be there in fifteen, Maine sends him.  We should head out.

"Maybe," Wash says, and then looks out the window. Rain is pounding against the glass. "Or maybe we’ll wait until the next one."

nat+steve+getting lost

"Nat, you know I trust your sense of direction, but have you ever been to Edinburgh?” Steve asks carefully, keeping up with her confident strides in… whatever direction this is.

"Well, no," she says, looking over her shoulder at him, "but if we’re walking uphill, and the castle is uphill–"

Steve gently grabs her by the shoulder and turns her 90 degrees to the right.

"That castle? The one we’re supposed to be walking towards? That’s right up the steps there?"

Natasha looks up at the castle, back at him, and narrows her eyes.

"If Sam magically hears about this, the New York Times is going to run a very embarrassing article about Captain America. Got it?"

"Absolutely."

heyo it's the mighty duck anon again IT WAS HELLA CUTE!!! i loved it! okay um, wash/maine where they're like, stuck (either hiding or a building collapsed or something) during a mission.
Anonym

oh shit this is like 80% of the washmaine au lmfao i’ll try to come up with something different UH uh

(this got longer than expected)

Weiterlesen

asexual bucky trying to figure out what flowers to buy steve

As much as it irks him to be grateful to Stark (Stark, not Mr. Stark, and in his head it’s just a bad coincidence because there’s no way this man is related to Howard), Bucky’s glad he’s got a smartphone whose touchscreen responds to his metal arm.

"Can I help you find anything?" asks the third sales associate, going for meekness this time.

"I’m doin’ just fine, thanks," Bucky replies, and keeps scrolling down the list of search results. Fuck-me flowers. Nope. He gave you THAT bouquet? He wants to sleep with y– Nope. Decidedly not. “Actually–” He sighs in defeat, and when the sales associate (the nametag reads Maggie) turns in surprise, he tries a grin. “I just want flowers. Y’know, just some nice flowers for someone I care about. Just nothing–” He gestures helplessly at his phone. “–nothing that that ‘Cosmopolitan’ magazine would ever recommend.”

Yoooo I heard you want writing prompts!! Can you do some wash & Maine?? Like on a mission or just chilling watching the Mighty Ducks or w/e you know.
Anonym

FRIEND I AM ALWAYS HERE FOR WASHMAINE PROMPTS

"What. The fuck."

Maine stares at him, eyes narrowed, and dares him to change the channel.

"No, fuck this. I’m not watching—" Wash gestures helplessly at the TV. "—animated ducks play some kind of… pre-Grifball thing? How old is this?”

Maine huffs in response and swipes the bowl of ice cream out of Wash’s hands and then, before Wash can even react, Maine grabs a fistful of his t-shirt and yanks him down on the couch.

"Fucking ridiculous," Wash mutters, and grabs his datapad. Animated ducks playing sports. What a fucking galaxy.

Grif/Simmons - one of them is addicted to a pet adopt website a'la Neopets

zeus oh my fucking god

Simmons notices instantly that something’s wrong when he wakes up, but it takes him a good ten seconds to figure out just what. Grif’s not snoring, which means Grif’s not asleep, which means—

"Grif, have you been up all night feeding your fucking pixel pet things?”

"One, not all night. I took seven power naps.” Grif smugly pops an Oreo — a full Oreo — into his mouth, and doesn’t even turn around to acknowledge Simmons. “And two, I stole your credit card again.”

What?

"Specialty items don’t buy themselves, you know."

grif/simmons "This isn't exactly what I had in mind."

i got two different pairings for this prompt but yours was first so iiiiidk if i’ll do the other one we’ll see

———

"You know, when I said date night, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind," Simmons snaps, and kicks Grif’s feet further down the couch. "You’re hogging everything and there’s—" He wheezes as Grif’s elbow (his own old elbow, incidentally) lands squarely in his solar plexus. "—there’s food everywhere. If you get peanut butter in my gears, I swear to fucking god, Grif—”

"You’ll what?" Grif says, bored, voice muffled where his head is pressed into Simmons’ stomach. He’s seen this movie so many goddamn times that he knows it by heart. "Tell Sarge on me?"

"I’ll sell your Oreos to Caboose. You know I’ll do it."

Grif looks up at him, stricken, and props himself up.

"You wouldn’t."

"I would. Watch me.”

"…Nah." Grif pauses in sinking back down to drop a very peanut-buttery kiss on Simmons’ nose.

"I hate you."

"You love me."

"Fuck you."

"Aw, Simmons, you’re making me blush."

from e: pactrek Kirk + Spock, “come on” (too tired to fight mobile tumblr)

"Come on," Jim wheedles, "just one drop. It’s just a simulator."

"Dr. Kirk, you are well aware that I have no interest in running the simulator program." The computer will finish cycling through his latest algorithm in approximately two point seven minutes. Spock hopes that Jim will give up — or, at least, be distracted — at that point.

"What, you don’t think you can beat my score?" Spock looks over at him, where he’s sitting on top of his desk, tossing an apple in his hand. "Come on."

"That's a good look for you" - maine/wash ovo

 oh mg y d o this is literally a ca non line yo U LITTLE  SNOT im making this into au stuff instead u dont control me

———

Maine pulls off his helmet and yawns, scratching at his scalp, and pushes hair off of his forehead. It’s still weird to see him with hair, but. Well. Wash supposes he’s got a reason to cover the ink on his head.

"That’s a good look for you," Wash says without thinking, and Maine narrows his eyes. Foot. Mouth. Now.

Maine runs a hand through his hair again, making it stand on end, and lifts an eyebrow at Wash.

"I’m just saying, you look good with hair." Maine blinks slowly at him. "Your hair looks good. Not that it didn’t before. Or… lack thereof." Maine starts looking like he’s trying to hold back a laugh so Wash butts him with his rifle. "You know what I mean."

The old shit-eating grin is slowly spreading across Maine’s face and really, honestly, it’s a fucking wonder Maine and York didn’t get along better, because both of them shared a favorite hobby of making Wash regret opening his mouth.

"Fuck off."

But he doesn’t actually hate it, he thinks, especially when Maine’s laugh sounds almost the way it used to.

"Stop trying to cheer me up!" Newt/Hermann Please? c:
Anonym

By the fifth cup of tea left on his desk, Hermann is pretty sure he’s caught on to what Newt is doing. Attempting to do.

"Stop trying to cheer me up," he finally snaps as Newt is slinking away. "My paper got rejected by the committee. It’s not the end of the world."

He watches Newt’s face progress through a range of astonishingly transparent emotions — indignation, annoyance, frustration, sheepishness, stubbornness — and then he finally opens his mouth, closes it, and crosses his arms.

"Well, sorry for trying to make you feel better,” Newt grumbles. “That stuff leaves ego bruises.”

Hermann thins his lips.

"Yes, well, tea isn’t exactly the best salve."

"It’s the thought,” Newt protests as Hermann turns back to his chalkboard, “it’s the thought that counts.”

©