another trophy

my dream for season 2 of yoi opening

The screen fades in, and a low lit room is shown. The camera pans left to a bed in a very minimalistic apartment. There’s only one body on the bed, who is it?

“The sleeping beauty, Katsuki Yuri” a voice over says.

Yuri shifts in his slumber, revealing the other half of the king side bed is messy but no one is there. You can hear nails clipping the floor coming down the hall, suddenly Makkachin appears and jumps up on the bed and attacks Yuri with his tongue for puppy kisses. Yuri is awoken, a smile across his face grows while trying to calm down the very excited Makkachin. Yuri grabs his glasses off his nightstand, and pushes his longer hair back into a messy almost-eros style. He slips his feet into his slippers, gets up and opens the blinds. Sunlight immediately fills the room, catching on Yuri’s ring on his hand. The room now filled with light shows medals and trophies from another skater, along with Yuri’s medals carefully arranged beside them.

Yuri smells something cooking in the kitchen. Makkachin patiently waits for Yuri by the door, his tail thumping on the hardwood. Camera follows Yuri, who starts off towards the kitchen. Suddenly the camera pans to the pictures in the hall. There are pictures of Makkachin, Barcelona GPF, and even Hasetsu. At the end of the row of pictures there’s a photo, it’s in Barcelona. There’s another person in the photo with Yuri, they’re exchanging rings.

Yuri blushes as he passes the last picture, gently tracing the frame with his hand, the ring from the photo still on his finger.

Makkachin rushes past Yuri as Yuri turns the corner into the open concept apartment. There, a figure is standing over the stove. Sizzling noises are heard, and Makkachin rushes over, begging for whatever the figure is cooking. The camera shows the figure turn around. Grey hair is in the figures eyes, he’s softly humming a familiar song he skated to with another person at the GPF. The figure turns. He sees Yuri, who is still groggy from waking up.

“Good morning, Yuri” Viktor Nikiforov says, five time world champion and coach of the self proclaimed “dime-a-dozen” skater Yuri Katsuki from Japan.

“Good morning, Vitya” Yuri replies, and comes over and puts his arms around Viktor’s waist, hugging him from behind. Viktor leans in to Yuri, who is watching his fiancé cook them both breakfast.


you wear my name on a chain next to
every girl that warned me, every girl that said stay away, said i know what he did to those girls last summer, he did the same thing to me.

here i am writing another nine page
journal entry about you while the only time you ever use my name is like a trophy, like another prize you won in a game you play with someone else now.

it’s been seven months since i saw you last
and i am still trying to figure out which of us was the killer and which the victim.

someone told me today that i am the
common denominator in everything
that is wrong with me.
i know it’s true i just wish it wasn’t.
i know you hurt me but you were also
the one who left me and
you don’t leave someone who loves you,
but you don’t hurt someone who loves you, either.

—  mutual destruction - sarah kate o.

Vote for Tinkerbells as the best fandom for the #SoompiAwards Tweet with the hashtag #TeamKNK! You must tweet between the two listed 24 hour periods for the vote to count.

There are no restrictions on how many times you can vote, so tweet the hashtag as many times as possible during the two 24-hour periods!

This year, voters who tweet during those two periods will also be automatically entered to win autographed good from their supporting groups. There are also signed cards from the special guests and Soompi Awards MCs,

Let’s get KNK yet another trophy!


“This means something very big to me, after two years with many problems on my wrist coming back and playing on this level and win another trophy in this unbelievable tournament it’s great and I’m so happy to win the finals and show my best tennis today”

Juan Martin del Potro after winning his first championship in two years at the If Stockholm Open 2016  (X)

Watch: GOT7 Takes 2nd Win For "Never Ever" On "Show Champion," Performances By GFRIEND, BTOB, And More

Watch: GOT7 Takes 2nd Win For “Never Ever” On “Show Champion,” Performances By GFRIEND, BTOB, And More

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GOT7 has now won another trophy for “Never Ever”!

The group was in the running for first place on March 22’s episode of “Show Champion” along with BTOB, GFRIEND, Taeyeon, and TWICE, and they ended up taking the win.

This was GOT7’s first time performing on “Show Champion,” and it must have been a very meaningful appearance for them as they took home the trophy. Leader JB was sure to express his…

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sorry [yoongi&you]

Summary: yoongi is lost and completely nothing without you, but what more can he do when an apology is all he really has left to say?

a/n: @marelynn-neko so you gave me about four guys to choose, i think…? lol and while looking at them, i kinda figured this would match the sugary plum turtle the most. enjoy and uhmmm… hold a tissue box. i mean it :DD scenario based off of big bang - haru haru and lies.

Originally posted by what-bangtan

Why must beautiful memories be remembered when the love have already become vain and completely lost? Why are we left in this despair entrapment of broken affections?

To be drowned in alcohol and the smell of other people, tears everyone away from reality. Who would want to stay stuck in a life with nothing being offered?

Keep reading


Chilled: “….And Smarty got a quadfecta. Dammit Smarty.”

GaLm:“It was three against two! How did we lose this bad?

Smarty: "Screw you Chilled…I kept getting fucked over by someone.”

Tom: “ Well…that’s another gold trophy to add to my collection. Good going, Y/N.”

Y/N: “Woo! We won. Haha! Right back at ya Tom.” *grins* 

Small Supercat fic: If Her Luck Holds

Cat doesn’t understand why she did it.  Not yet.  Not really. 

She knows it was a mistake now, watching her assistants–both of them–buzz around her like bees in the midst of this headache-inducing throng of obsequious little yes-men and their trophy wives. 

Another award, another grand affair in some hotel’s ballroom.  She’s grateful for exactly two things right now.  One: the lights are dim enough she doesn’t have to see or ponder the origins of the stains in the hotel carpeting.  Two: the rusty band of pique around her chest has lessened just enough that she can breathe through the anger to see the underside of it now. 

And to see the truth about her assistants. 

Siobhan works the room like a panther stalking prey, making connections and exploiting insider knowledge like–well–like Cat herself would if she needed to anymore.  A rubber chicken awards dinner no longer holds a challenge or a prize for the Queen of All Media.  The White House Correspondent’s Dinner?  Now that’s a little more her speed. 

The problem with Siobhan’s tactics is they are meant to benefit Siobhan.  She’s wearing a black Eleni Elias evening gown showing just a tad too much leg and a tad too much effort.  She preys on men, seeking their favor and attention (and, ultimately, their influence), but ignores their wives or partners, oblivious to the daggers in their eyes when she nears them.  Siobhan won’t remember a single one of them by sight or by name tomorrow.  Each one of the women she’s ignored, however, will remember Siobhan.

She’s a heat-seeking missile and her target is her own advancement.

Keep reading


TRAGEDIES HAVE ALWAYS been fickle, befalling the good and the terrible and seemingly never anyone in between. Feliks was always the first to admit he fell into the latter, indulging his baser instincts and desires, committing only to his greed and avarice, laying waste to others, the earth, himself. His death had been well-deserved, but his resurrection was something he never asked for—for what awaits a monster? What sinister fate embraces a chimera of the living and the dead fashioned into a twisted trophy for another man to parade around? He barely remembers the life he had and loathes to think of what lies ahead, his wandering path obscured by smoke and strife. “Consider this your penance,” a voice rumbles into his ear. “Or consider this your purgatory. Makes no difference to me, and certainly not to you.”  



Rope from a heart rotting of betrayal and mistrust holds me by the neck. I struggle to escape once I’ve been grasped. I’ll merely be another trophy hung up on false love.

Thread from a heart glimmering with innocence and purity grabs onto me ever so dearly. It fears of letting go for it has depended too much, it has loved oh so greatly a man who cannot return such emotions. I’ll be the first tombstone in a graveyard of broken hopes.

Strings from a heart ripe with experience and maturity grasps me by the hand and draws me in. I let it take me for I know it will love and be loved tenfold of a hundredfold.i will not be a trophy nor a tombstone for I will be beside her through living flesh and lifeless bone.


Congrats to Sidney Crosby and Team Canada for winning the World Cup of Hockey! A few weeks ago when I photographed Sidney along with Hayley Wickenheiser, PK Subban, and Marie Poulin, we asked them to do their best “vs / competitive face”. Sidney just stood there and laughed, and said that was his “vs face”. Can’t blame him when he wins yet another trophy. Shot for #GCAMP

Haggling at the minimum price...

Context: Our party has traveled to a continent where the coin currency, Ur, has a 1:100 exchange rate with gold. We’re currently in town, and the asshole fighter in our party wants to buy some paint supplies for the purpose of vandalizing another PC’s trophy.

Fighter: Good sir, I would like to buy this paint brush.

DM (as the “Paint Alchemist”): That will be 1 Ur.

Fighter: 1 Ur?! That’s 100 gold! A beer costs like 10 gold, are you saying this brush is worth 10 beers?

DM: Well guess what, a beer here is also 1 Ur. It’s the lowest denomination.

Fighter: So you’re basically telling me that you can’t sell stuff cheaper because you can’t get less than 1 Ur?

Fighter: I place my Ur on the nearest table, I raise my Great Axe, and I literally chop the coin in half.

DM: …….

Fighter: Here you go, half an Ur. I take the brush and leave. 

When he says you are ‘pretty for a black girl,’ run far away.
To him, you are thick thighs and full lips; you are worthy of his lust but not his love.
He dreams of your submission while laughing with his friends who say he has jungle fever.
He is not thinking that the Moon must envy you for just how much light the Sun poured into your melanin enriched skin.
He is not marveling at the endless dimensions a look into your brown eyes could transport him to.
You are his next conquest, another trophy.
He does not deserve you.
—  maxwelldpoetry, “Pretty For a Black Girl”

I don’t want to be old and crotchety about this, and there are obviously worse things to complain about in the world, but I just want to put in my two cents for people who are worried about me not being on the TIME 100 list because I didn’t successfully mobilize my audience or whatever.

1. TIME Magazine has never and will never be able to objectively determine who the 100 most influential people are, but I can tell you for sure that I am not one of them.

2. They’ve stopped actually even trying to do be objective and instead are making it an internet popularity contest. These “vote-in” things don’t measure influence. They don’t even measure audience or reach or community strength. What they do measure is how willing people are to repeatedly bug their audience to go spend a bunch of time at because they want another trophy for their virtual shelf.

I have no interest in playing this game because TIME does lots of useful, interesting things, and I do not want to encourage them to do the less-interesting, weird, kinda gross things. Also, if I’m going to mobilize my audience to do something, it’s not going to go toward feeding my already-inflated ego.