Okay I'm awful at titles so here comes a brain dump sorry in advance Maddie: In which Yuuri loses a bet to Phichit and has to act like Viktor's "public persona"-- sunglasses, WinkTM, smooth af, fashion, confidence and all for an entire ice show/competition. Viktor and the majority of the skating community is sHoOkTM, Yurio thinks he's super cool this way but would sooner die than say so out loud, and Yuuri's surprised because he actually having fun. Idea creds to @spicecapadespresentedbyps ~ ISA
Summary: The one in which Yuuri loses a bet to Phichit and has to act like Victor’s “public persona.” Idea creds to @spicecapadespresentedbyps!
Yuuri walks into the rink wearing a suit. A black tie, white, cuffed sleeves with shining golden cufflinks that match his engagement ring, a confident smile on his lips, and sunglasses pushed up past his slicked-back hair, which is normally only slicked back when he’s skating, which he’s not.
Victor, however, is skating today.
(That is, if he can get his jaw off of the floor.)
“Yuuri, you know what you do to me in a suit,” Victor mumbles into his ear as cameras flash. He’s in his short program outfit, but it’s covered up by his red and white Russia jacket and it’s hard for the world to pay attention to him when one hundred and ten percent of his own attention is placed on Yuuri Katsuki.
Yuuri winks at him.
“You’re taking this dare seriously, aren’t you?” he whispers, and Yuuri laughs, breaking character for a second to rub the back of his neck and duck his head.
“How am I doing so far?” Yuuri teases.
Victor can’t help but grin. “Show me that wink again.”
He does. Nearby, reporters and fans alike are tripping over their own feet.
Victor, of course, has no choice but to grab Yuuri and kiss him as hard as he possibly can. Yuuri obliges.
hello loves! to mark the official start of summer, i’d like to celebrate you guys! the amount of support i have on this blog makes me feel so happy and comfortable - thank you to everyone for supporting me ♥.. i thought it would be fun to do blog rates and name aesthetics!
this is for my lovely followers / mutuals (must be following me)
reblog this post, likes count as bookmarks!
send me an ask off anon with 💫 for a blog rate / name aesthetic! tell me something about yourself / what you’re proud of / what your favorite thing in the world is. i’d be happy to read anything at all ; i want to get to know you guys better!
if you’re a side blog, please mention your main in the tags (:
ends july 30th: blog rates will be tagged #latteblogrates: you can blacklist if you’d like, i don’t want to spam your dash! ♥
sorry, this is so late! jet lag really exhausted me, i was sleeping all day formula below the cut.
Pawn. That’s all she was for the most part, a device for her parents mostly her dad to fight over. All Rosalie wanted was to be back with her mom. The woman who had raised her. The woman who had been there with her for everything. Unlike her dad, who had forgotten they existed. As a child, on days he was meant to pick her up, Rosalie got used to waiting for a bit before calling a taxi or walking home.
Now, she was stuck with her father…for lack of a better word. It had been months of seeing how much it would take to get his attention. She’d dropped at least four dress sizes by now. At one point, Rosalie stole Meredith’s tequila just to see what Derek would do, but instead Meredith just bought another bottle on her way home from work one day. Then, she started to drink the tequila.
Her grades were falling, not too far, but definitely lower than they’d been since first grade. Rosalie also started skipping classes; not much, but eventually, she was skipping full days at least every other week. She rarely ever saw Derek, much less heard from him; so she’d learned that consequences ceased to exist. Until, she’d overheard her dad talking about her mother’s return to Seattle.
Rosalie didn’t know what would happen, but she was hoping that she would get to stop living with Derek and his mistress. She didn’t care how it happened, she wasn’t willing to stay stuck in Seattle again. Anxiety started to ravage her, she hadn’t seen her mom in months, of course they’d talked and facetimed, but it wasn’t the same. Rosalie had managed to get actually excused from school the day her mom was due in town and was waiting at the hospital for her to get there for the case she’d been called for.
Don’t know why I am a wrapped up in
Yesterday’s, last years
Why my heart won’t stay still at cliche hours
Why do I still feel the dust in my nose
Still dripping memories
I won’t let go of anything, I earned that good feeling
Fought so hard
Just to be at ease
For a night
I want to relive, relive, relive
Read over every text
Make sure my heart flutters the same
I’m still in love with 3 people
And I’d leave them all just for one last hit
Book the same hotel, please smell the same
Bring along the grey backpack with the rips along the seams
I wasn’t satisfied last time
But I get full off the memories
Savor them down, suck you up
You as in the concept
Of having normalcy
Things should be this way, I know
I shouldn’t be this way, I know
Just the way you are is a way enough
Keep lighting up my phone
Baekhyun/Chanyeol | cause you know I love being with you (and seeing you cry)
Title: cause you know I love being with you (and seeing you cry) Summary: Baekhyun is a regular at the bdsm club Spark. When a new club comes into town, and starts stealing their subs, he is given a mission: find the one who’s taking the subs, and keep him occupied by any means necessary. Pairing: Baekhyun/Chanyeol Length: 4,475 words Rating: NC-17 Warnings: BDSM themes, spanking, sex toys, bondage
Paul already claimed the title “chief of sinners.” We’re all pretty bad. We’ve all got loads of work to do. But the real blessing is that the work is happening. God’s working in us giving us be desire and the ability to do what pleases Him. You’re not perfect yet. But God’s not going to give up on you.
Stiles shivered, wishing he’d been allowed to put on more clothes. Damn Michael for making him do this. They’d been trying to catch a killer for weeks now, a guy who seemed to have it in for local prostitutes. It was only logical for one of the detectives to go undercover, but couldn’t they have picked someone else?
Sure, he looked young and innocent enough to pull it off but now here he was, freezing his ass off in ridiculously tight pants and a shirt that barely covered anything. He looked around, leaning against the wall behind him as he tried to look like he did this all the time. There was no way anyone would fall for it if Stiles didn’t get into character.
He could hear his partner laughing and grumbled to himself, whispering at him to be quiet. Thank God for modern technology so at least he didn’t have to go trough this alone. He subtly repositioned the earpiece, shooting a smile at a guy who slowed down when he spotted Stiles.
He continued walking though and Stiles let himself relax again. “Only a few more hours”, he thought to himself. Sure, there were others who had to do the same thing, but at least they had been assigned to the better part of town. The part that didn’t have such gross looking alleys like the one Stiles was currently standing in. His dad would have a heart attack if he could see him now.
Fang Island, as the name might have suggested, was a pretty formidable place even from the ocean. Large rock jutted out of the sea around the island like the bottom jaw of a gaping sea monster, ready to swallow anyone who got too close. Well it was too bad for this island because Cara was on a mission!
All the same, she hoped she found Drake sooner rather than later. Just being on the shore was freaking her out slightly but she took a deep calming breath and started to climb one of the large rocks. The height might help her track down her wayward friend.
Now, if she were Drake, where would she be?…She debated going through the forest and calling his name but that would give away her position to the island’s animals. If she could find Kuma’s paw she might stand a chance…Or Drake could just set something on fire. That worked too.
With a sigh Cara hopped off the large rock and, shouldering her backpack, started into the jungle to hunt for some evidence of the dragon boy. She thought she had seen a patch in the canopy so it made sense to investigate there first.
Jayma was more than thankful that she had been asked back for the final two episodes of glee. She couldn’t believe the show was coming to end after six years. There had been plenty of ups and downs over the course of those years but Jayma couldn’t deny that Glee was an important part of her life. She parked her car on the lot, finally arriving after quite a long traffic filled drive. She hopped out of the vehicle, slung her bag over her shoulder and did a quick look around to see if she spotted any of her cast mates.
It had been a few days since Greta had told her about what happened between her and Kyden, and Kajsa had gone out of her way to stay away from him. Maybe Anja had been right in not trusting him. But Kyden had been so sweet and kind and he had kept her company when he really didn’t need to. She ran a hand through her long blonde hair as she walked down the hall. Suddenly, she regretted not bringing her dog along with her, because she caught a glimpse of the exact person she had been avoiding. Hoping he hadn’t seen her, she ducked into one of the empty studies and shut the door quietly.
James sat on the edge of the bed, a soft smile twitching at the corners of his lips as his eyes rested on Anna’s sleeping figure. He’d been up for hours already, getting everything together and ready for the day. Anna had been asking for days now about when she’s be able to meet his parents, and finally he was ready. Getting his parents attention could be hard at the best of times, especially his father who after spending years lecturing James to answer his phone, never seemed to himself. But he had come up with something that neither his mum or dad would be able to miss.
Smiling to himself, he laid down in the space next to her. His arms wrapped lightly around her as he moved closer and pressed a few soft kisses to her cheek. “Rise and shine, sleepy head.” He said cheekily, moving to trail kisses down her neck when she didn't stir.
Riley brushed her teeth three times before getting changed. She didn’t want to smell of alcohol and drugs, both of which had occupied her entire morning. It was strange how much quicker she sobered up when she wanted to drown out her emotions. Riley slipped on a pair of jeans and grabbed a t-shirt of Kayla’s room. All of her own clothes were dirty and wrinkled as her mom hadn’t been home to do the laundry. She brushed her teeth one more time for good measure before looking at the empty spot on her desk where Taco’s tank had stood until Tristin had picked it up.
The drive to the hospital was almost second nature to Riley. She’d been going at least once a day since Kayla’s accident. In fact, this was the longest she’d been without visiting. Finally, she made it to the hospital and parked her car, but she couldn’t get out. Her heart was begging her to run away, to escape another injury, while her brain knew this is what she had to do. This was why she was better off without emotions. She should just go in and act casual and to the point with Ellie, this way she would avoid conflict and avoid getting hurt again. Riley just wasn’t sure she could do that, be so detached from the girl she loved. She sat in the car, staring at the hospital for what seemed like hours, but couldn’t have been more than half and hour. Finally, an alarm went off on her phone, reminding her to feed taco. She couldn’t help but laugh. She didn’t have a turtle any more. That’s when she saw her phone’s background. It was a picture she’d taken one random night at her house. You could see Riley’s arm holding out her phone in the corner of the picture, but it was a a surprise candid. Riley had placed her face right next to Ellie’s as she was turned away, so as soon as she had turned towards her, their lips had met to Ellie’s surprise. They both looked so happy, a happy shock on Ellie’s face and a slight smile on Riley’s.
Riley took a deep breath and got out of her car, walking into the hospital.
It starts with the first fallen leaves, with her finding him as he found her, hidden from the brutality of the world, biting his cheek and trying to swallow regrets that tastes of metal, of blood. If it hadn’t been for the radio, filling the room with soft tones, Clarke would have thought that her eyes must have been playing a cruel trick on her when they saw him walk in here. In the shadows, she sees him leaning up against the car, his face behind a book, and it briefly stops her in her tracks. Could he be reading the story of Orpheus and Eurydice? The one he’d written on her cheek, as he’d run his fingertips over it, making the words impossible to rinse off.
Since she returned, Clarke had been forced to watch Bellamy work himself to the bone every day, punishing himself while gritting his teeth. But what nearly shatters her heart is knowing that the weight of the world is carried on his back, bending his spine to its breaking point. There’s no limit to his bravery, his love, and that’s why he shouldn’t get so comfortable in the darkness: It will ruin him like it nearly ruined her, and if you think for one second that she is going to let that happen, you are certainly mistaken.
To her immense relief, when they get the option, Bellamy’s eyes shift from the words on the page, choosing her face. Nevertheless, the look on his all but sends her heart to the bottom of her gut: the sparks within his earth-colored gaze have died, his frown is deep, just like the color of the shadows underneath his eyes.
Clarke is, was an artist. She can paint his smile back on, but she knows that in order to do so, she has to convince him that he actually wants her to. Yes, there are many things, countless issues between them that they still need to sort out, but the least she can do is to try to make him feel better. Undoubtedly, he would do the same for her.
♬ I’ve been trying to do it right. I’ve been living a lonely life. I’ve been sleeping here instead, I’ve been sleeping in my bed ♬
Slowly, she takes the book from his hands, places it on the hood of the car.
“What? Why are you interrupting my reading?” In the attempt to hide his surprise, Bellamy fails to sound annoyed.
“But you weren’t reading,” she corrects him, “you were looking at me,” at that, he doesn’t break eye contact, only raises his eyebrow a little bit. Quickly, Clarke has searched for a translation of that specific look in her mind, and found it: ‘Seriously, get to the point.’
“This is a beautiful song,” remarking that, she watches his eyebrows fall, furrow, mostly in wonder she reckons, because he nods slowly, “ so let’s dance.”
Teasingly Clarke rolls her eyes, her hands grabbing onto the fabric of his jacket and she spends a couple of moments shamelessly studying how it affects him, not much, but his palms move to the car for support. “Didn’t you ever dance on The Ark?” Frankly, she finds it difficult to imagine him dancing at all, ever, with anyone, but the truth surprises her: “Of course, but-“
“Then you have nothing to be afraid of,” Clarke declares, and shockingly as she pulls a little on his arm, he follows her willingly, most likely because that’s what he always does, no matter how crazy the scenario.
His jaw clenched, Bellamy places a hand to her waist, and as the wonderful warmth from it seeps through every layer of her skin, Clarke has to fight to urge her eyelids hold to close. To distract herself from the fact the he is touching her, she takes her hand in his, feels how the blood has worn them, as her own have been torn and controlled. Unsurprisingly, the mere thought of that creates a lump in her throat, which disappears as Bellamy’s other hand slowly moves to small of her back where it begins to pull her in.
♬ So show me family, all the blood that I will bleed. I don’t know where I belong, I don’t know where I went wrong ♬
The tips of their noses graze as their breathes easily mingle, yet for a while their feet decide to not move. For them to do that, the world around them, the pain it brings, must be invisible. Someone must take the chance, must make the choice to begin the process, and surely, that person is Bellamy, because when the chorus commences, he squeezes her hand, and as he moves, she moves with him.
Honestly, Clarke doesn’t see the first spin coming, or the next, and even though she’s scared of being too far away from him, she falls right back into his arms every time he lets the space between them grow. At some point, through, after many happy returns, she decides to stay, as his hands against her spine, their hearts beating in synch and the smell of him, of the woods, of smoke, of gunpowder becomes equivalent with safety, with home. Ignoring the beat, together they sway, her face in the crook of his neck, his lips pressed into her hair.
♬ I belong with you, you belong with me. You’re my Sweetheart ♬
It ends when raindrops are replaced by snowflakes, with her begging that it’s the only thing bound to change. Sadly, it isn’t, because the rain reminded her of him, cleansing and refreshing, even if he more often than not caught her in his hurricanes. The snow is too icy, nothing like him, but still affects him, makes him colder. When he roars, her heart aches.
But at least he’s finally being honest: “You don’t get it, do you? You can’t leave again! There’s no way I’m letting you,” as he slams the car door shut, he looks at her, lightning striking with desperation in his eyes.
On her lips, she can taste the sweetness of his name. They part slightly to let it out, yet it doesn’t emerge. Instead, she stares at him, how the anger marks his features - well, at least she thinks it’s anger for a while, until he shouts again, his voice breaking from hurt: “Everyone hates me, Clarke! Even I hate me, but you –” At that, he pauses, unintentionally allowing a noise to escape his throat; it sounds terrifyingly close to a sob, “– You don’t! And I, I–”
“Bellamy…” Of course, when the name at last comes out, it’s too late. He’s too broken to see that this is breaking her.
“No! I can’t lose you!”
Shut up! The words burn in her stomach, hurting just as much as the tears in her eyes. Right now, she can no longer question why he didn’t say all of this when they were standing at the gate months back, because the truth is close to bringing her to her knees. She let him down when she left him, and because he never told her that it tortured him, she could keep walking away.
Even though her lungs are already pleading for air, she kisses him, pours every ounce of her panic into it. She can’t lose him to the mercilessness of winter, when she wants him to love him like summer. At first, as he responds, his lips are bruising. His hands move to her waist, pushing her against the car door as hers tangle within the messy curls of his hair.
♬ Have you got color in your cheeks? Do you ever get the fear that you can’t shift, the type that sticks around like something in your teeth? ♬
Shamelessly, she pulls at it when the tip of his tongue runs along the seam of her mouth, asking for an invitation. Honestly, he doesn’t really need to work for it, because he still holds her close like she is about to choose that godforsaken car over him. As she parts her lips further, his hand runs from her ribs to her waist, the touch igniting a burning trail. Clarke wonders if she can make him feel the same - therefore, she permits her blunt nails to explore his back, and sure enough, she hears him restraining a noise; not a sob this time - No, something entirely different, but this might scare her even more.
♬ So have you got the guts? Been wondering if your heart’s still open, and if so I wanna know what time it shuts ♬
Now, his hand slips just underneath the hem of her shirt, and the sudden skin-to-skin contact does not only send shivers through her - it has him breaking the kiss to look at her; at how her chest is heaving, leaving her breath ragged. His hand doesn’t move as his eyes search hers, so soon enough, he presses their foreheads together. For a long minute, he stands there, only holding her while they continue to breathe the same air. And when finally kisses her, it’s so different that it causes her heart to ache a little: his lips are now soft, coaxing as they press to her neck which makes Clarke hold her next breath.
♬ The nights were mainly made for saying things that you can’t say tomorrow day ♬
She know what he wants, what both of their hearts are screaming for, and you could think that after infinite times of falling back to him, she should feel more than ready to fall into his bed, but unfortunately that’s not the case.
That’s why she pushes him away, as gently as she can muster when she’s this frustrated with herself: “I’m sorry, I-“ As her lower lip wobbles and her hands shake, he moves back to her, placing a hand to her cheek, causing her to avert her gaze, “I can’t.”
At that she feels his fingers under her jaw, tilting her head so that her eyes tear from looking at the floor. Instead, she meets his eyes, painted with hurt. “Why do you keep running? Don’t you trust that I won’t hurt you?”
Frankly, the only reason why she hasn’t told him, is that she’s pretty sure he already knows why. After all, they read each other like open books.
But in case he hasn’t, she manages to croak, the bitter tears clogging her throat as well as her eyes: “I’m terrified, Bellamy,” as soon as his name has escaped her lips, the sobs take over her body, rolling in like waves and causing her to shake. Instead of asking questions, he pulls her into his chest, whispers into her hair: It’s okay. I understand - understand her fear is not of being hurt, but of being happy. Happy if they become one, if he pours any more of his love into her, because then she may start using it as a drug, which would be wrong.
He deserves better than that - better than her.
So with the press of his lips lingering on her forehead and tears staining her cheeks, she walks away again, for the hundredth time, the only difference this time being that she looks back, at his fake smile and his heart in pieces scattered all over the floor.