faggy–butch:

fabledshadow:

thunderon:

thunderon:

so my roommate is completely straight edge like no drugs no alcohol etc and so im sure y’all can imagine my surprise when i saw she brought home this sign

ac0197e678ec02fdbbf2e68751ee504e55f5791a

so i immediately inquired

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and now you may ask. what the fuck did my roommate think that sign meant? well

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anyways i moved the sign so it’s now front and center in our living room and ive been laughing every time i pass it

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what a terrible time for me to remember that my roommate has a tumblr account and could theoretically find this post. *********** if you see this im sorry but it was funny and needed to be shared

I mean, botanically, “sativa” just means “cultivated” and “indica” means “of India”.

Cultivate
to change the things I can

run off to India

to accept the things I can’t


Tags:

#anything that makes me laugh this much deserves a reblog #drugs cw #embarrassment squick #this post was queued because my to-reblog list is too long and I didn’t want to dump it on you all at once

hjartasalt:

hjartasalt:

hjartasalt:

Asked for a doctor’s note to show to the airport staff if necessary for an upcoming flight where I need to bring my T with me and they were like “yeah sure no problem” and then sent me a note that makes it sound like I will literally die if I go one day without my testosterone LMAO

Me: man it would suck if I got my T confiscated by customs so I should get a note explaining that I have it for legitimate reasons just in case

The note in question: this man may or may not fucking die if you take his medication away from him. This medication may or may not be integral to his daily survival. Do you want his blood on your hands yes or no

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Help that’s so funny


Tags:

#anything that makes me laugh this much deserves a reblog #medical cw #embarrassment squick #this post was queued because my to-reblog list is too long and I didn’t want to dump it on you all at once

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captainsblogsupplemental:

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polteaageist:

#i like to think data took him all the way to the brig tossed him in and left#and then came back 60 seconds later and was like ‘i believe i have successfully played a ‘practical joke’ on you :)’#riker loses it & claps him on the back like ‘wow. good job u rly had me going. dont ever fucking do that again’

Perfect.

ingridverse:

Actually it’s 73 seconds. Data, knowing something of how human minds work, estimates that Riker will give him 60 seconds to come back (because humans prefer “round numbers”, however arbitrary the units). After 60 seconds it will take 4 seconds for Riker to fully process the conclusion that Data is, in fact, not coming back after all, and an additional 9 seconds to build to the optimum level of anxiety.

After all, comedy is timing.

sniperct:

d2fc79a0fc45c26c34f764af6ba076a59d5b6f8d

trekheritageposts:

star trek heritage post (July 19th, 2019)


Tags:

#Star Trek #TNG #anything that makes me laugh this much deserves a reblog #embarrassment squick #this post was queued because my to-reblog list is too long and I didn’t want to dump it on you all at once

homunculus-argument:

One absolutely hilarious part of human existence is the repeated incidents of spicy bananas. People who have lived their entire lives up to this point just assuming that a specific fruit or vegetable is supposed to taste bitter, tangy, or spicy, having no fucking idea that all this time, they’ve been allergic to this plant. Because how would they have known? You learn what things taste like by tasting them, nobody’s going to tell you that bananas are supposed to be one of the mildest flavours out there. And people already eat so many things that taste hot, bitter, tangy and tart! Because they like how that kind of thing tastes like!

You can just happily much on a plant, thinking “ah, this angry plant tastes sharp because it hates me. Much like all the other sharp angry plants that people eat because they like the sharp”, and it wouldn’t cross their mind to think that the plant just hates you, specifically.

msfcatlover:

This is sitting on the shelf of human experiences riiiight next to people who don’t realize they’re colorblind.

deadmomjokes:

My best friend’s husband didn’t realize he was colorblind until after they were married in their mid-twenties and she watched him run a stop sign that was in front of a big bush. He’d lived his entire life not knowing. So when they did some tests and realized “hey, you’re super colorblind,” he got to thinking, it’s X-linked, right? Which means it had to have come from Mom’s side of the family, so he started digging and asked his mom’s dad, and Grampa was like “Well that would explain a lot, I suppose. I kind of thought your grandma was just pulling my leg about the tomatoes.”

Because Grandma had apparently banned him early on from picking the tomatoes in the garden because he was constantly coming in with unripe ones, and he thought she was just being super nitpicky about it. This was a lifelong family joke, that Grandpa couldn’t tell a ripe tomato to save his life, and nobody ever stopped to wonder if maybe he and the grandson who routinely colored the grass red on his drawings might have something going on with their ability to see red and green as distinct colors.

yardsards:

i thought aloe vera gel was SUPPOSED TO burn your skin. like how rubbing alcohol burns when applied to a cut. figured that everyone else was just better at gritting their teeth and bearing the full body aloe sting than i was. i just didn’t feel like the stinging was worth the mild healing properties aloe had.

yeah… turns out it’s NOT supposed to burn and i was just allergic to aloe

life-on-the-spectrum:

STORY TIME!!!!!!!

My husband comes from a “weird” family. Like, the whole county knows. “He’s a total weirdo. AAAH THAT’S HIS LAST NAME THAT EXPLAINS IT OKAY NO PROBLEM GO FLY FREE DUDE WE LOVE YOU!!” The family’s just a bunch of freaks, like the Addams Family meets the Beverly Hillbillies. I ADORE them.

It was celebrated because they’re so valuable to the local community. This one sells meticulously grown veggies at the farmer’s market, then hisses at you for suggesting they wear soemthing that isn’t tie-dyed. That kid was in kindergarten before she said her first word, and that’s cool because her older sister translated for her NO THANK YOU TEACHER WE DO NOT NEED A DOCTOR THAT IS NORMAL FOR THIS FAMILY GO AWAY. She’s got two quiet kids of her own now and WE STILL DO NOT NEED A DOCTOR GO AWAY. That uncle knows everything there is to know about every car engine ever, and he never wears shoes with laces because he literally never worked out how to tie them (He’s 60). He’s also the top mechanic in his town and makes serious dough that put his super-smart daughter through college, and now she’s an ace veterinarian who pterodactyl screams at acrylic sweaters and keeps everyone’s pets alive. I shit you not, the family matriarch gets excited for tax season every year and begs everyone to bring her their taxes so she can MATH at them. It’s her freaking hobby.

Whatever. They’re in OUR family. It’s totally normal for us. The family’s just full of freaks, that’s all. We encourage our people to go with their strengths and use their skills to make our little corner of the world a nicer place to live in, then teach them how to manage the difficult parts of the world because we all had to learn to do it ourselves. “Because this family’s full of people just as freaky as you. You’re one of us.”

No, most of them don’t go to college. It’s rural Illinois, of course they don’t. Lots of them end up in specialized trades, like electricians or farmers, and they always kick ass at it. They tend towards jobs that require a lot of focus, and attention to detal, and very specific, in-depth knowledge that is almost useless outside of whatever field they’re in. We’re mostly spread between two or three small towns in Illinois, and I do not think these three towns would function without my husband’s family fixing and growing everything they do.

One of our cousins’ kids got diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder a few years ago. His now-ex-wife insisted that something was wrong and that our cousin was a jerk for not caring enough to notice. The family reacted with “He’s fine, it’s normal, we all did that when we were his age… wait… shit… what do you mean it’s genetic?”

It turns out that like 70% of my husband’s side of the family is autistic as fuck. We’re talking about grandmothers. Uncles. Cousins. People are in their 70s just now figuring out why they are how they are. 

They’re just so famously weird in our community that they attract the other weird people as partners, and then they have weird little kids, and no one really looks twice. A bunch of the people (including me) who married in were informally adopted first. “Oh, your parents punished you for this behavior? We all do that here. Come to the barbecue!” Two years later, I had their last name and was helping watch their adorable little handflappy babies.

We’ve got an entire gene pool over here of autistic people thriving so well that no one noticed we were all autistic.

Also, that cousin got RID of his wife when she started talking about how “tragic” their son’s autism is. Their son is a perfectly normal child in our family and will be raised as such. We joke now that when something needs fixed, “Oh, just call Uncle So-and-So, he’ll autism at it.”’

I fucking love this family so much.

bisexualbaker:

Beautiful, wonderful story, no notes (except maybe asking if there’s room for one more at the dinner table).

Anyway, back to the original post, I am in deep gratitude for it, because it’s the only reason I thought to wonder if chickpeas are supposed to be spicy.

(Hint: Apparently they’re not. The genetic lottery locked the good tasting falafel and hummas behind an allergy wall.)

lukiepoooo:

….what,,, what is aloe vera supposed to feel like?????

vaspider:

It’s supposed to feel cool and soothing.


Tags:

#that one post with the thing #is the blue I see the same as the blue you see #food #allergies #autism #PSA #embarrassment squick #poison cw? #this post was queued because my to-reblog list is too long and I didn’t want to dump it on you all at once

smallpox-juicebox:

arandomthot:

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“good Christian honk” sounds like a euphemism

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Tags:

#this happened to me once #I walk out of the pharmacy and out of the corner of my eye there’s a car trying to get my attention #statistically‚ someone trying to get my attention while I’m walking down the street is almost certainly wanting to insult my respirator #I studiously ignore him‚ and when I find that we’re going the same direction I deliberately take a left even though my home is to the right #once I’ve lost him‚ I turn around and I see him driving away #and it’s my dad’s license plate #turns out he was offering me a ride home #(and he was so caught up in the euphoria of this) #(that for like a minute he lived in a world where ableism didn’t exist) #tag rambles #anything that makes me laugh this much deserves a reblog #sexism cw #embarrassment squick #this probably deserves some other warning tag but I am not sure what

albatris:

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an excerpt from a novel draft reading: “Is that gonna kill me?” he asked earnestly. “Excuse?” “The garlic.” “Ah.” Quinn cracked a smile. “No. It’ll just give you a stomach ache. Vampires and garlic are a bit like lactose intolerant people and ice cream.”
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nanowrimo out-of-context

sorry about the different-sized fonts idk what I’m doing 😎✌


Tags:

#I will be keeping an eye out for more of this book #out of context quotes #anything that makes me laugh this much deserves a reblog #vampires #embarrassment squick #death tw #murder cw #violence cw #this post was queued because my to-reblog list is too long and I didn’t want to dump it on you all at once


{{next post in sequence}}

sashayed:

accordionsrule:

sashayed:

the other day a doctor told me that “the best way to make [something i should do but never want to do] routine is to put it on your calendar!” and i found myself completely buh– hhuh?-– about how to respond. i was stupefied by the gulf between our worlds. i looked into her kind eyes and i thought “put it on my what?” shoot it into space? i did not know how to explain to this extremely functional woman that an obligation to myself, with no stronger enforcer than my own words on a calendar, is to me a tattered codex from a lost religion. like this text is maybe historically interesting but not useful as a structure around which to build a life. what am i now going to write that will (or indeed should!) have any authority over me later? WALK? i don’t know her life! and in what world would i respect directives left to me by a complete stranger(me from two days ago) whomst i have every reason to distrust (ate all the entemann’s and put our keys in the laundry)? put it on my calendar. ok, dr goodbrain. but in the moment i nodded like a grinning toy monkey and dutifully thumbed WALK! into my phone at 4 p.m. Repeat: Every Day like that would have any effect on my actual behavior. sometimes it takes an enormous amount of optimism to be a person and frankly i admire us all for trying to do it

I tried to do this once but I was stoned and put it on my band calendar instead of my personal one so for several months every tuesday my bandmate would, without any context, get a calendar notification that just said “RUN”

thank you


Tags:

#this is not something that I experience #but accordionsrule’s anecdote there is a hell of a thing #anything that makes me laugh this much deserves a reblog #is the blue I see the same as the blue you see #embarrassment squick #this post was queued because my to-reblog list is too long and I didn’t want to dump it on you all at once

ghostcasket:

teashoesandhair:

collidedscope:

memewhore:

842eaa65f53844ca97d4ab181905d75fbad18d12

the “bad guys” in hallmark movies end up always being the most respectful men ever.

because they will find out their girlfriend of 3 years (that they were about to propose to) went off to a random farm in minnesota, hours away from were the two of them built a life together, and she decided to just… stay there without even consulting him.

and then he decides to take a trip to make sure she’s okay, because this is generally alarming behavior, and then sees that she literally fell in love with her ex within one (1) week- and he wasn’t there, but you can TELL that they’ve made out a couple times.

and then she just strings him along for a few days, until fucking christmas eve, when she just breaks up with him and is like “i know we used to have the same values, but i’ve never loved you. mark makes me happier than you ever did. and you ONLY care about work, whereas i like christmas and fun, like a Good Person.”

and then, after finding out his entire relationship was a lie and he had his life turned upside down in a week and he got dumped on christmas, this guy’s just like “ok yeah that makes sense. i only wish you the best of happiness with mark. i hope you guys build a great life together in christmastreefarmville. thank you for everything.”

An AU where two Hallmark Christmas Bad Guys are both getting flights back to New York after being dumped by their respective Smalltown Blonde Girlfriends, and they bond over their shared experiences and fall in love in the departures lounge

@teashoesandhair your wish is my command :)

Probably, Levi should be more upset.

Probably he is still in shock. Right? He looks out of his taxi window (it’s not technically a taxi, just some guy named Corey who offered him a ride to the airport, because Uber doesn’t operate in fucking Tinyville, Bumfuck Middle-Of-Nowhere, Utah) and tracks water droplets racing each other down the glass, because of course it’s raining, and his bad knee is killing him.

Levi sniffs and rubs at his eyes and then pulls out his phone and books a ticket back to New York, wincing as four hundred and twenty-six dollars are deducted from his bank account.

And, like, he should definitely be more upset.

He just got broken up with. He was engaged, for God’s sake. A four-year relationship… over. Just like that.

Corey says, “Ten minutes to the station.”

Keep reading

{{below the cut:}}

Probably he’ll be more upset once he’s home. When he starts packing up Anika’s stuff into boxes so she can come collect them after New Year’s. He’ll have to do all that processing and he’ll put away all the pictures that are up and probably he’ll remember all the good times they had together and flashes of their relationship will play out in slow motion in his mind. Like a movie montage.

Levi catches his reflection in the passenger side window and starts, pulling his thumb out of his mouth. He hadn’t even noticed he’d started biting the nail.

Corey drops him off at the train station and he books a ticket to Salt Lake City and Levi wants to tip him for the ride but when he turns back the car’s gone, and it’s started snowing again.

He re-wraps his scarf so it covers his ears and turns back. He has to jog—ow ow ow—to catch his train.

Once arrived at the airport, Levi’s gotten over being baffled and has started being mildly pissed.

You’re obsessed with work, Anika told him. You barely make time for us anymore. Yeah, he’d had to pull some long hours for the last few months, but for good reason—he’d been working towards a huge promotion and a raise and he thought she’d be happy for him.

He’d gotten the promotion, by the way. Editor in chief. He’d tried calling her first, a whole bunch of times, and then she hadn’t picked up, so he’d decided Well, fuck it, and flew out to Doodootown, Utah to break the news himself.

He thought it would be nice. Spend the few remaining days before Christmas with Anika and her family in their hometown, then flying back home for Christmas and New Year’s and starting 2023 off with renewed vigour and excitement.

Then, of course, Anika told him that she wouldn’t be flying back with him for Christmas. Or at all.

Which, well. Okay.

She didn’t even congratulate him.

He checks in, and the lady at the desk asks him whether he wants to drop off his carry-on luggage for free, since the plane is very full, and Levi shrugs and says okay and watches his suitcase disappear behind black rubber flaps.

His flight leaves in four hours.

Levi decides to pay the extra fee so he can stay in the fancy lounge, because he thinks he probably deserves that at this point. It’s quiet here, though, so he orders a tea and claims a table over by the window, stretching out his right leg with a contented sigh.

There’s an empty table in front of him, but at the next one sits a man who looks so miserable it’s impressive.

The man is slouched in his chair, dark hair mussed and suit a little ruffled. The cuffs of his slacks are damp, and so are his knees. He’s leaning his head against the window, eyes closed, holding a bloody tissue to his nose. A purple bruise is starting to form on his cheekbone.

Levi stares.

Damn. And he thought he was having a rough day.

Should he say something? Probably not, right. Like, that would be weird, right?

Then he notices the small, black velvet ring box the man is fiddling with and it’s like all the air’s punched right out of his lungs.

Damn.

Levi looks down and takes a sip of his tea, then hisses and curses under his breath because it’s still way too hot and he’s an idiot.

When he looks up again, the man is eyeing him with mild amusement.

And there are a hundred thousand ways that Levi could have handled the situation, but before he can think about ways to not embarrass himself further he hears himself say, “Ouch. Haha.”

Somebody please shoot him.

The man raises an eyebrow. Levi gives an awkward cough, then takes another sip of tea and somehow feels betrayed when it burns his tongue again.

“Maybe you should give it a second,” the man says.

“Maybe,” Levi says, “I should.” His ears are burning.

It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas plays over the speakers.

Levi desperately wants to ask about the ring box. And the bloody nose. And whether there’s a correlation. But then again it is so definitely not his business, so he just stares down at his tea and watches steam rise.

There’s a sharp sigh from across the table. “She said no.”

Levi’s head snaps up, ready to defend himself, because it’s not like he actually asked, but then the guy looks so tired and bitter that he immediately deflates and feels both like an asshole and an idiot.

“I’m sorry,” he offers, which still feels lame but better than whatever he had going on before.

The guy gives a wry smile. “Gonna, you know. Return this. She, uh, said no to the whole relationship. So.”

Ah.

“I’m sorry,” he says, running a hand over his face, “I don’t mean to dump all this on you.”

“Oh, no, it’s okay,” Levi says quickly, and then before he can think about it too much, he adds, “I get it.”

The other guy looks immediately doubtful.

Levi bites the inside of his cheek. “Four years,” he says with a shrug. “Engaged and everything.” He gives a thumbs down and blows a raspberry.

“Aw, shit, dude,” he says, sitting up straight. He removes the tissue from his face, and seeing as he’s no longer bleeding, stuffs it in his pocket. “That sucks.”

Levi shrugs again, suddenly weirdly self-conscious. He traces the rim of his teacup with a finger. “Yeah, well. I didn’t get beat up about it.” There’s a moment of silence, then he sneaks another glance. “Levi, by the way.”

A corner of the guy’s mouth twitches. “Xavier Ortega.”

Levi gives a half-hearted salute. “Fuckin’, enchanté. Or whatever.”

Again, Xavier almost smiles. Levi thinks—Levi thinks he’d like to see Xavier smile. Properly.

And then he thinks, What.

No, he’s just—Xavier just looks like he could do with a cheer-up. That’s it. And, well, so could he, really. They’re both in similar boats. Although it looks like Xavier got the shorter end of the straw here, Levi thinks, considering his ruined suit and, you know, face. Still a nice face, though. Symmetrical. Strong cheekbones. Dark eyebrows over dark eyes and a straight nose and—whatever.

Whatever.

He just got broken up with.

God, why’s he trying to justify this to himself? Why is he feeling weird about this? He’s not even gay. And even if he—even if he was, it’s not gay to acknowledge that a guy is good-looking.

But, like, it’s fine. He’s not—whatever.

Xavier has a split lip, he notices now that the tissue’s not hiding half his face. “Got you good, huh?”

Xavier rolls his eyes. He looks away for a moment, hesitating, then stands up and pulls the chair from the table between them, spinning it around and flopping back down at Levi’s table.

Levi thinks he must look quite surprised, because Xavier says, “I mean, this is easier for conversation purposes. Unless you’re fine with the yelling across tables situation—”

“No, no,” Levi protests. “No, you’re right, this is—easier.” He clears his throat and says, “So, what was her name?” before mentally kicking himself, but Xavier just looks at him weird.

“Well, her name is Chloe. We just broke up, she didn’t die.”

Levi nods, puckering his lips. Right, yeah. Yes. “Is she… nice?”

“Well, she cheated on me.”

“Ha,” Levi says with no humour. “Samesies.”

Xavier lets out a dry chuckle at this, then rubs at his eyes. “Wow. Happy Christmas to us, right?”

Levi raises his teacup and gives a ghost toast. “Merry Christmas to us.” He downs his tea, which is at a palatable temperature now, then says, “Do you want a drink?”

So Chloe and Xavier had been together for almost five years. The whole story is… disturbingly similar to Levi’s whole deal, actually. Chloe decides, two weeks before Christmas, to take a trip back to her hometown, gets pissed when Xavier can’t just take ten days off work to come with her, goes anyway on her sister’s advice, meets up with her childhood nemesis who turns out not to be so bad after all and also cleaned up unfair nice, and then when Xavier went after her because hey, she hadn’t been answering his texts and he was planning to pop the question over the holidays, she decided to dump him.

“She looked me in the face,” Xavier says, head in hands, “and told me she was happier there than she’d ever been with me.” He looks up and runs his fingers through his hair. “And I mean, sure, we’d had our rough patches, but, you know. We were gonna work it out.”

Levi hums. “Yeah, no. I get it.”

“So I said, Are you fucking serious right now, and I guess I raised my voice a bit, and then Mr Goddamn Farm Guy comes storming out and squares up to me and I don’t even know who this dude is, and I tell him to get out of my face, and he fucking decks me. Like, completely unprompted.”

“Rough,” Levi says solemnly.

“Yeah,” Xavier says, exasperated. “And he didn’t even apologise.”

Levi whistles low. It’s quiet for a moment while they both nurse their drinks, then Xavier vaguely gestures at him and says, “So what’s your Christmas Tragedy?”

Levi gives a lopsided grin. “Well. Anika goes home to Middle Of Nowhere, Utah, ‘cause she said she wasn’t feeling great. Wants me to go with her, I can’t ’cause I’m pulling long hours for an upcoming promotion, she’s pissed. When she gets back there she rekindles things with her ex—”

“Augh,” Xavier says. “Brutal.”

“—and last I heard the plan was for them to start a combination bakery and tearoom together. So.” Levi grits his teeth. “Hope that works out for them.”

Xavier looks at him over his glass, then, after a moment of careful silence, says, “You’re allowed to be mad at her, you know.”

Fuck her,” Levi says immediately. “Like, seriously. Why even get engaged to me if she was so miserable? Just break up with me instead of, fuckin’, cheating, and then acting like I’m insane for going to check on her after she just ignores all my calls and texts and goddamn emails. We were going to get married in February, for fuck’s sake. Fuck her.” He presses the palms of his hands against his eyes til he sees stars.

There it is. The upset. Figures that it’s the saying it out loud that really drives home how betrayed Levi feels. Especially when he’s talking to someone whom he doesn’t have to explain it to, because Xavier gets it. Xavier gets it better than anyone ever will, probably.

It’s not quite the movie montage Levi had been preparing for. Rather, what Levi remembers now are all the moments that Anika said things that cut, or did things that bruised. How she’d roll her eyes when Levi got so excited he got the wiggles. How she refused to entertain the idea of getting a dog, even after he begged. How she’d get annoyed with him when his knee acted up and told him to suck it up and stop being such a crybaby. How she’d give him the cold shoulder when she was upset with him and he couldn’t read her mind about it and let it build until she exploded out of nowhere.

Little things that didn’t seem like such a big deal in the time, but that added up to something like a balm for the sharp sting of betrayal.

Because that’s what it is, at its core. That’s why Levi is angry.

More betrayal than heartbreak.

And even though it will hurt for a while still, there’s something that tastes oddly like relief at the centre of his chest, cool and welcome like a breeze on a suffocating July afternoon.

Xavier stays silent. After a moment Levi blinks hard and opens his eyes and finds Xavier looking at him strangely.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “Fuck ’em.”

Levi’s stomach squeezes.

He glances wildly around, trying to find anything to look at that isn’t Xavier’s face, and settles for the screen hanging from the ceiling that displays flight information.

“Oh, look at that,” he says. “I should get to my gate.”

“Right,” Xavier agrees quickly. “Yeah, of course, so should I.” He picks up his leather briefcase. “Where are you going, by the way?”

Levi laughs. “How wild would it be if we were on the same flight, huh?” He stands up and winces, ignoring Xavier’s questioning look. “New York City. The 9:15. You?”

Xavier’s eyebrows shoot up. Levi’s jaw drops. “You’re fucking kidding.”

They make their way over to gate B9 mostly in silence, a general air of What the fuck is happening hanging between them. Not quite uncomfortable, but definitely baffled.

“So this is weird, right,” Levi says, dropping into a boarding zone chair. “Like, really weird.”

“Right,” Xavier says softly. Then, eyes trained on the huge Christmas tree and determinedly not looking at Levi, he adds, “Cool, though.”

Levi is—Levi is a little speechless. “Yeah.” He feels kind of floaty. He can’t stop looking at Xavier’s ears, because the tips have gone red. “Yeah. Pretty cool.”

God. Fuck.

Their seats aren’t next to each other, because that would have been crossing the line from freaky coincidence into absolutely fucking insane, but Levi pulls some strings and switches seats with the nice lady who’s next to Xavier, because it’s an exit row seat with more leg room and he has a bad knee. He tries not to look too pleased with himself as he sits down.

Xavier gives him a look. “So do you actually have a bad knee, or…”

Levi slaps a scandalised hand to his chest. “I can’t believe you’d accuse me of such a thing. You think I’d lie about being disabled?”

“I don’t know you that well.”

“And here I thought we had something.” Levi sighs. “I broke my kneecap when I was a teenager. Never healed right.”

“Ah. Sports? Don’t tell me you were a football kid.”

Levi doesn’t know why he feels suddenly bashful. He always feels kind of stupid telling people how he got his injury; the reactions usually range somewhere between mild disapproval and straight up judgment. “Uh, no. Parkour. Actually.”

Xavier’s eyebrows vanish into his hairline.

After a moment of questioning silence, Levi shrugs. “I misjudged the distance between ledges. Fractured my kneecap. But I was stupid and an idiot, also, so I didn’t wait for it to fully heal before going back out, and now I am a human weather antennae.”

“Huh.” Levi would say Xavier looks almost impressed. Mostly sort of exasperated, though. “You know what, now that you say it, I feel like that checks out.”

Levi narrows his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know, maybe you look like the type who would break his kneecap doing parkour.”

“And what kind of type is that?” Levi is halfway to miffed and sort of offended, but then Xavier grins wide and he forgets to be annoyed.

“You tell me.”

It sounds too much like an invitation to be a coincidence.

Levi can’t remember the last time he spent so many hours talking uninterrupted. Or, well, talking to someone who was actually listening to him and actively engaging in conversation. Someone who was interested in him.

Levi can’t remember the last time he enjoyed talking to someone this much.

He cracks a joke that makes Xavier laugh softly, and the noise goes straight through his spinal cord like an electric shock, and then it becomes a game, a challenge, trying to make Xavier laugh like that again.

Xavier shows him pictures of his dog, a wonderfully fluffy brown-and-grey mutt named Captain, and Levi thinks he might actually pass away over how cute he is.

“I always wanted a dog,” he says after cooing over a picture of Captain showing his belly for ten minutes. “Like, really bad. I want a dog so bad. But Anika doesn’t, so it never happened.”

“Well,” Xavier says loftily, “Nothing’s stopping you now, is there?”

That is an excellent point. Levi tells him so.

Then he starts thinking about how nice it will be to have the apartment to himself for a while, and then he feels guilty for being relieved about it, about Anika not being there, and then he ponders how weird it’ll be to be alone for Christmas.

Levi’s never been alone for Christmas before.

His family lives in Alberta, and he can’t really afford another short notice round flight, and anyway the plan this year had been just him and Anika, and they’d had a reservation for brunch on Christmas day, and Levi thinks he should probably cancel that, and that’s just a fucking bummer.

After a moment of thinky silence, Levi quietly asks, “What are you gonna do for Christmas?”

Xavier blows out a long breath. “I don’t know. I think I’ll try to see my sisters. They live a state over, though, and it’s all very last minute, I—we—were supposed to spend it at Chloe’s, and I’m not big on Christmas celebrations myself, you know, my family’s culturally Jewish, so… I’m not sure.”

Most of the rest of the flight is quiet, and a little sad, but also nice, and when the seatbelt light flicks on and the crew announces the imminent descent Levi can’t help but feel a pang of disappointment.

The plane lands. Impatience in the cabin spikes; everyone wants to get home, it’s the holidays, it’s cold. Levi gets up and winces, catches Xavier’s eye as he reaches for his bag and hands it to him.

Xavier is gonna call a cab. Levi is as well.

They’re standing outside.

Levi shoves his hands in his pockets.

“Well,” Xavier says.

“Right.”

“It was nice meeting you, Levi. The circumstances were… less than ideal, maybe, but…”

Levi looks at him. A purple bruise is blossoming on his cheekbone, crawling up around his eye. The tip of his nose is red from the cold. His eyes are dark but if he pays very close attention he can tell where the iris ends and the pupil begins.

And okay. Okay.

He might be a little gay.

“But nice,” he whispers.

Xavier smiles, looks down. Is it—would it be totally weird to ask for his number?

But then Xavier’s cab is there, and he tips an imaginary hat at Levi before turning away. He hands the driver his luggage.

The sharp stab of panic between his ribs takes Levi totally by surprise. As does the fact that when he blinks he’s closed the distance between him and the cab and is holding onto the door.

Xavier looks at him, eyebrows raised.

Levi didn’t plan this far ahead, or at all. He blinks, feeling rather sheepish, then when Xavier’s eyebrows start disappearing into his hairline he blusters, all at once, “So I have a brunch reservation. On Christmas Day. I was, you know, supposed to go with Anika, but, you know. And it would suck to have to cancel. And it doesn’t have to be weird, or anything, we’re just two guys being dudes, getting brunch.” He snaps his mouth shut, absolutely horrified. What the fuck was that?

Xavier’s mouth parts a little.

God. Shitballs. Fuck. Abort. “But that would be weird, right? You know what, never mind, it’s fine, forget I said anything, it’s—”

“Levi,” Xavier says, exasperated. He covers his face with his hands. Then he says, muffled, “Yeah, okay. That sounds nice. I’d like that.”

Oh.

“Are you—are you sure?”

He must sound really incredulous, because Xavier snorts. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Slowly, Levi grins. “Okay.”

“Okay.” They stand there for a moment, and then Xavier’s eyes go wide and he says, “Wait, I should—hold on.” He digs in his pocket and pulls out his wallet, hesitates, then pulls out a small rectangular object and holds it out.

Levi’s grin goes lopsided. “Xavier Ortega. Are you handing me your business card right now?”

To his credit, Xavier looks away sheepishly. “My phone number’s on there.”

Levi accepts the card, hoping passionately that Xavier doesn’t notice his hand is shaking. “Okay. I’ll text you, then.”

“Okay,” Xavier says. Then, tentatively, “See you soon, then?”

Levi takes a deep breath and steps back, cheeks burning, and probably not just because of the bite of winter chill. Something in his stomach twinges, and he says, “Yeah. See you soon.”


Tags:

#Christmas #storytime #anything that makes me laugh this much deserves a reblog #embarrassment squick #this probably deserves some other warning tag but I am not sure what #this post was queued to ensure proper timing

ladyshinga:

The biggest reason I KNOW we haven’t captured an alien spacecraft is that its specs haven’t been leaked on War Thunder forums


Tags:

#I didn’t actually laugh aloud but it still amused me enough to reblog #embarrassment squick #this post was queued because my to-reblog list is too long and I didn’t want to dump it on you all at once