but here's the one i could think of

giacomctti  asked:

for the promp thing! victuuri and 60) things you said that surprised me the most ♥

hiya alli!! (and thank u to @teekettle​ for your input ♥)

60. things you said [make your own]

“Tadaima,” Victor called, tugging his scarf down from his mouth. The loss of warmth was distinct when he slipped out of his trenchcoat, but a smile made its way onto his lips when he heard Yuuri’s voice drift around the corner, soft and lilting around the okaeri.

He placed his shoes by the front door next to Yuuri’s, straightening them just so, before padding over to where Yuuri was snuggled into the couch. A thick, fluffy blue blanket was draped over his legs, along with Victor’s old Team Russia jacket zipped over his torso. He looked very warm, compared to the chilliness of the evening outside. A pastel green mug sat on the coffee table, thin wisps of steam still rising into the air, and his laptop was perched on the arm of the couch.

Yuuri offered him a sleepy smile as he came closer, his hair slightly damp and curling at the edges. Yuuri had felt stressed this morning, so had come home from the rink a few hours earlier than Victor did. And Victor was glad, because he looked so much better rested after taking that time for himself.

“Hi Vitya,” he murmured, pausing the video on his laptop and patting the spot next to him. “Wanna join me?”

“Always, lyubov,” Victor said, already grabbing his own purple blanket from another armchair and moving to sit down by Yuuri’s side. Once there, he noticed exactly what was playing on the screen. “Are you watching my old programs?” he asked.

Yuuri’s smile became a little shy. “They’ve always helped me relax,” he admitted, turning back to his laptop and hitting play. Almost immediately, the tinny sound of his Victory program floated through the speakers and the grainy image of a twenty-five-year-old Victor Nikiforov began to move.

Victor found himself critiquing the movements of his younger self almost instantly—he was too stiff in this one section, he wobbled slightly on the landing of the triple axel—but when he glanced at Yuuri, he was surprised to see a look of admiration on his face despite all the obvious flaws.

“I love the way you flicked your wrist here,” Yuuri said, his eyes sparkling as he pointed the movement out a second before the Victor on the screen even did. “It had perfect timing with the music, and I could feel the triumph you were trying to convey with this program. I ran out to the rink to practice my own program almost immediately after—it was really inspiring.”

“Oh?”

“The costume choice could’ve been a little better though,” Yuuri continued, sounding thoughtful once the last notes of the music faded and the camera had cut to Victor’s smiling face. “If you were to reuse a costume, I think the one from 2010 would’ve been perfect for a free skate about victory.”

“You’re such a big fan,” Victor teased, resting his head on Yuuri’s shoulder. “Have you been following my career for that long?”

“Mhm.”

They were quiet again as the video continued and eventually settled on an interview right after Victor received a score that shot his name to the top of the board, assuring him as world champion for the third year in a row.

“How did you feel about this performance, Victor?” a reporter asked, looking eager, and suddenly everything clicked into place.

It was this season.

Victor had thought there was something strange about the program Yuuri was watching, why it had made him so uncomfortable, and now he knew. It was the year that Victor had grown tired of skating and winning and putting on plastic doll smiles for the public and his country.

The Victor on-screen smiled then, and to him it was so obvious how fake it was. No one else seemed to notice how forced it seemed, how his eyes were dark with fatigue, how his voice was overly bright as he answered.

“I’m really happy with it!” Victor replied, still smiling. “It was a difficult program to perfect, but it seems that all my hard work paid off.”

Victor remembered that the reporter had given him an almost patronizing laugh at that last sentence and said—

“Well, how hard can learning programs be for a three-time world champion, right?”

That had happened a little more than three years ago, but those words, no matter how well-intended they may have been, still stung even as he heard them now. He’d felt so much freer after meeting Yuuri, but hearing this and seeing the plastic smile he’d put on for years reminded him of how much he didn’t want to go back to a world that saw him only as Victor Nikiforov, Living Legend, instead of Victor Nikiforov, a man who liked to go on nighttime walks with his fiancé, cook anything and everything he could in the kitchen, and read as many books as there were stars.

It had bothered him more than he let on how people dismissed his hard work and drive in favor of placing him on a pedestal.

“You weren’t happy.”

Victor blinked, startled out of his thoughts. “What?”

“You weren’t happy,” Yuuri repeated, his smile a little sad. “I could always tell in your interviews.”

Victor could only stare at Yuuri, frozen. “You—what?” He swallowed down the growing lump of emotion in his throat. “…How did you know?”

He thought he’d hid it so well. No one seemed to question his loneliness or growing weariness once he started winning—no one stopped to think about how all this was affecting him. So Victor assumed that no one had noticed.

But Yuuri was there, thousands and thousands of kilometers away, watching as Victor’s energy and love for the ice was slowly sapped away by the pressure of years spent at the top.

And seeing Yuuri’s quiet, earnest expression in front of him now, and telling him how he knew how much Victor needed someone to stay close to him, all those years of suppressed emotions tumbled out.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, Vitya,” Yuuri whispered against his hair, arms wrapped tightly around him as he cried. “But I promise that I’ll be here for as long as I can.”

Victor laughed wetly, tightening his hold on Yuuri. He was currently under two blankets, a fiancé, and a wandering poodle on the couch of his apartment in St. Petersburg, and God, he’d never imagined that his home could feel so warm.

“You never fail to surprise me, lyubov moya. Thank you.”

Then Yuuri pressed a kiss to the crown of Victor’s head. “I love you,” he murmured, and Victor smiled into Yuuri’s side.

“Love you more.”

I Found You (Loki Laufeyson Soulmate AU)

Summary: (Y/n)’s soulmate tattoo is Loki in Nordic runes and now thinks fate is playing with her and he doesn’t exist because they gave her a mythological god. During the battle of NY (y/n) happens to meet him but what occurs once the battle is over? Her soulmate is the most hated man on the planet.

A/n: So I changed the MCU storyline a bit as well where Clint had met Steve before the battle of New York.

Warnings: There’s some physical harassment from a male co-worker on the reader so possible TRIGGER WARNING, and remember if this happens to you, report it and if nothing is done about it, definitely call the police. (Be safe y’all, we don’t all have Steve Rogers to our rescue)

Masterlist

Gif is not mine, credit to @lokitty

Originally posted by lokitty


Your name: submit


“Jeremy!”

A young man approached, thanking and taking his coffee from (y/n). She huffed, overtime she called out someone’s name, she always somewhat hoped that her soulmate would mysteriously appear. She’d had her soulmate tattoo since it appeared at age 12, like everybody else, except hers, wasn’t even English. It was in Nordic Runes, something people didn’t use to name their kids. (Y/n) had found out at 16 when she went looking for her soulmate after being teased for her strange tattoo. She was desperate to prove to everyone, her soulmate wasn’t a freak; he/she was unique and deserved love. She, after all, being in foster homes all her life, believed she could give this to them.

Keep reading

luneaurose  asked:

HOW BOUT THAT EPISODE 10?!

I AM WRECKED. 

I mean, it’s just a well-constructed hour of television that is almost self-contained. Other than the ELEVATOR SCENE which I will obviously get to in a second, there were just so many fantastic little Kastle scenes which also obviously TORE MY HEART IN HALF. 

Like, can we just talk about Brett asking her “Why was he even here?” and that watery look on Karen’s face when she says “I think he was looking out for me.” And the fact that she has to work so hard to Keep It Together because it’s that but it’s more than that, too. It’s the knowing that he’s always looking out for her, the surety in that one fact about him. But it’s also knowing that now she doesn’t know where he’s at and when they’ll see each other again. 

And also Frank running in from god knows where, could’ve been the moon for all we know, leaping over furniture and jumping IN FRONT OF KAREN TO SAVE HER FROM BEING SHOT MULTIPLE TIMES. WHAT. W H A T. 

And let’s not even get started on Frank Castle staring down a man that’s strapped with a bomb and looking directly at Karen and promising “I will come for you.” The single-minded determination, the devotion, the way his voice shakes a little bit with worry and angry and a mess of emotions he probably doesn’t even want to look at or think about too closely. 

And then…that elevator scene. That pure moment of cinematic perfection. I can’t BELIEVE we live in a world where that scene exists. Two people who need each other and believe in one another but can’t quite yet be there for each other in that way, because what they want and what they need and who they are and who they want to be are not quite yet aligned. But God, they just want to sit there and pretend for a moment that they could be. 

But then the moment ends. 

When Karen pushes him back she is like the definition of someone steeling themselves…and then not being able to any more. When she watches him leave, you can literally see her heart breaking. AND I COULD FEEL MY OWN HEART BREAKING. 

Anyway, I love these two and this season gave me way more than I ever thought I’d get and I am so thankful and also heartbroken and also I may need to write fic. 

i’ll be holding on to you [stenbrough]

pairing; bill denbrough & stan uris

fandom; it (2017)

word count; 4776

prompt; The losers are dying to see just how long it will take two of their closest friends to crack and finally admit that they’re dying to be together. All it takes is a little meddling and a bet to make things interesting.

the losers are 17.

(Hi!! This is my first fic for this fandom and as you can see, I went a little overboard. This is the longest one shot I have ever written and I am really proud of it! If the characters are a little out of character at some points I apologize but I’m learning and hopefully I can get them right eventually. Any feedback is greatly appreciated!)

The last day of their junior year came with many conclusions. The losers would soon have to start thinking about the more important aspects of their futures like college and finally moving away from the fucked up town they called home.

They had mutually decided that the best way to kick off their summer vacation would be to relax and kick back at the quarry. Their boisterous laughter could be heard from a hundred yards away, but they didn’t care. They had been free of the darkness for a little less than two years and they would be damned if they couldn’t have a little bit of fun over their summer break.

Mike, Ben, Beverly, Richie, and Eddie sat up on the cliff of the quarry, four of the teens carefully observing the two boys relaxing in the water. Bill threw his head back in laughter as Stan splashed him, the water hitting him square in the face. Smiles graced the faces of the two teens splashing about in the warm water of the quarry. Richie sighed dramatically in the silence on the cliff.

“What?” Ben asked from his place beneath a nearby tree, a book lying flat in his lap.

“It’s so sad.” Richie said as he leaned against a boulder nestled deep in the soil, Eddie settled next to him with Richie’s arm thrown around his shoulders. Bev looks over from her spot where she’s sun bathing, catching the glare of the sun in the lenses of her sunglasses.

“What is?”

“They’re so in love but they don’t even see it.” He dramatically places a hand over his heart and observes as Stan turns to start swimming back to the shore, Bill immediately taking this as an opportunity to dunk the smaller boy underneath the water.

“Yeah. They’re practically Romeo and Juliet, Richie.” Eddie retorts, turning his head to glare up at Richie who only smiles in return.

“Eds, look at them! You can’t fake that kind of chemistry!” They sit in wonder, watching as Stan shoves Bill backward when he resurfaces, making his way toward the shore again. Their joyous laughter can be heard from up on the cliff and a smile is now found on the rest of the loser’s faces.

“First, don’t call me that, you know I hate it. Second, let’s assume you’re right. Let them figure it out for themselves.” Richie shushed him, placing his free hand over Eddie’s mouth. The younger boy wriggled next to him and desperately pried his hand away from his face, screeching about the germs Richie must have on them.

“Sh. Guys listen. We’ve known Bill and Stan for a while, right? We all—well, most of us—can see how in love these two are with each other! Someone has to crack eventually, right? So what I am proposing here is that we place a little bet to see just how long it takes them to crack. Who’s with me?” Richie had shot up onto his feet whilst giving this over dramatic speech, the rest of the losers watching him with an eyebrow raised.

“How is this supposed to help?” Mike inquired from next to Ben beneath the tree.

“Mikey, my man, listen; no one said it was supposed to help. It’s a classic bet. We all choose when we think they’ll finally give in and whoever’s closest wins. Losers pay up five bucks each.” He could hear the other two getting closer and he was running out of time. “The clock’s a-ticking, people. What’ll it be? In or out?”

The rest of the losers all shared a glance, mutually deciding what the hell, might as well see where this goes. The nodding he gets in return causes Richie to triumphantly pump his fist through the air. “Place your bets, losers. I’m gonna go ahead and say… two months.”

“One month.” Bev said.

“Two weeks from today.” Mike.

“By next Friday.” Ben.

“Tomorrow!” Eddie exclaimed, caught up in the excitement, four pairs of eyes falling on him. “Damn.”

“Alright, and there will be no meddling allowed. May the best loser win!” Richie finished just as Stan and Bill could be seen hiking up the path the reach them again, hair drenched from the salty water of the quarry.

“Wh-what are you guys t-talking about?” Bill asked, shaking his hair out much like a wet dog would, Stan right behind him. Stan let out a shriek, shoving Bill away from him, grinning all the while. Beverly shook her head at her ex-boyfriend and the pair decided to shrug it off.

“So in love.” Richie whispered to Eddie, nudging him in the side with his elbow.

“What?” Stan and Bill asked in unison, identical expressions of confusion etched onto their faces.

“What?” Richie shrugged, turning away from them and returning to his place next to Eddie in front of the boulder.


The first of the losers to break the only rule was, no surprise, Eddie. He supposed he was desperate, having estimated the first and only time frame he could think of, so he assumed desperation would be his best friend for the time being. It was Saturday, the day immediately following the placing of the bet, and Eddie was running out of time fast. He could easily envision that tiny hourglass in his mind, slowly but surely, draining itself of the golden traces of sand. Tick tock goes the clock, Eds.

Eddie Kaspbrak was a lot of things; a hypochondriac, a loser, an asthmatic, nervous, but a quitter he was not. Which is why when Stanley offered for him to join him while he went bird watching the day before, he agreed ecstatically, but he had a plan brewing.

Eddie had showed up on Bill’s doorstep at noon the following day, knocking with newfound pride. “HHey, Eddie, wh-what’s up?” The stutterer asked, stepping outside and gently closing the door behind him.

“Oh, you know, the sky. Listen I need a favor. Yesterday at the quarry, Stan asked me to go bird watching with him and I agreed but shoot! I forgot I have an appointment today!” Eddie chuckled, sitting on the porch steps and looking back at the taller boy with his chin resting in his hand.

“A-An appointment?” Bill asked in disbelief, Eddie nodded. “What for?”

“Well, you know me, hypochondriac and all. It’s something new every day. What do ya say?” He slapped his palms down on his shorts and stood abruptly, turning to face Bill fully, leaning against one of the wooden beams coming down from the roof.

“Yeah, I-I-I can do th-that.” Bill’s cheek seemed to heat up at the realization of what he’s agreed to and Eddie saw it, smirking slightly.

“Thank you, and give my regards to Stanley, please!” Eddie shouted, already running back down the path and toward where he threw his bike on the ground. He waved back at Bill who still stood on his porch, watching the smaller teen pedal away, nearly crashing into a wooden post as he did so.

An hour or so later, Eddie could be spotted crouched behind various trees and bushes, spying on two of his best friends. He rested his chin in the palm of his hand, watching the two so called ‘lovebirds’ from a distance. He observed the grin that would stretch across Stanley’s face as he leaned against a tree trunk, pointing out various winged beauties and describing them to Bill. That was when Eddie saw what Richie had been talking about for himself.

Each time Stan looked away to watch the trees again, Bill’s eyes trained on his face. Even at first glance, anyone could tell just how much adoration Bill held for the other teen. A soft smile played at his lips and each time Stan looked back at him, he would turn away fast enough to snap his own neck, cheeks burning. It was then, when he looked away, that Stan’s eyes would glisten in the midday sun, a small smile resting on his face.

Eddie would admit to feeling a little odd about spying on his friends to no one but himself. Although, his only prayer at that moment was that somebody would break the tension between them. Then, he could rub it in the other loser’s faces when they met up again, but only if the pair in question were the ones to bring up the news. He wouldn’t dare let anyone know he was cheating.

His hopes burn out when he notices Stan and Bill walking in his direction. “Shit.” He hissed, standing abruptly and jogging back up the way he had came, hopping on his bike. It’s a good thing he already knew what being a loser felt like.


The second of the losers to break the one rule Richie had set in place was Mike. He waited the appropriate amount of time, he thinks, to devise his plan. Delivering meat doesn’t offer much in terms of a social life but occasionally, he’ll hear certain things that catch his attention. This particular piece of information he had overheard had been about a party on the other side of town. He decided it was the perfect time to set his plan in motion.

“Do I have to go?” Eddie asked, leaning his head on Richie’s shoulder as he pouted. Mike smirked from across the room, arms coming up to fold over his chest.

“Yes, we’re all going. It’s just a party and it’s summer, live a lil’.” He sat down on the loveseat next to Bill.

“Fine. Who has a party two weeks after school gets out, anyway? And on a Thursday? What kind of world do we live in?”

“Come on, Eds. I think it’ll be fun.” Richie grinned, leaning down to press his lips against Eddie’s cheek. The teen smiled softly and glanced up at Richie.

“Don’t call me that, Tozier.” Eddie said, tucking his legs under his chin as they sat on the sofa immediately adjacent to the loveseat, Stanley at Richie’s other side, rolling his eyes.

“I’m with Trashmouth on this one,” Beverly spoke up from her place in front of Ben. “When was the last time any of us were invited to a party?”

“Stan’s Bar Mitzvah.” Eddie said.

“That was definitely not a party.” Richie chuckled, wincing when Stan punched him in the arm.

“You didn’t have to go, Richie!” Stan replied defensively as he crossed his arms, huffed and turned away from the pair.

“That’s exactly what I mean.” Bev pointed out, sighing dramatically. “I’m just saying, I think it might be nice to go out and have a little bit of fun. It’s summer, let loose.” The group collectively shared glances with each other, coming to a somewhat mutual decision.

“Wh-When do we leave?”


The seven teens arrived at the unfamiliar house later that night, Mike and Beverly practically skipping up the sidewalk from the truck they had arrived in. They had their arms locked, joy in their eyes as they watched the lights that flickered from inside the house. The group had been anticipating this moment ever since Mike had brought it up earlier that day, and some of the antics a few members showed had been mistaken for excitement. All except for Eddie’s, he had made his opinion on the get-together known numerous times.

“I still say this is stupid.” Eddie said as he walked beside Stanley who he knew had mutual feelings about the situation. “I mean, who knows. Somebody in there could be sick and they could sneeze on me and I’m very prone to that shit, you know? … I think maybe I’ll stay out here. In the nice, fresh, clean air.” The large house was overflowing with people, a vast amount of them gathered outside in the front and backyards.

The immortal words of Eye of the Tiger flowed out to where Stan had been standing, feet planted on the ground. He assumed he was frozen out of fear and anxiety. This party was his biggest fear come true. He hadn’t realized he’d stopped moving until something touched his shoulder.

“A-Are you okay?” Bill asked, smiling sweetly at him and Stan felt his cheeks grow hot.

“Y-Yeah, yeah. I’m okay. I’m fine. Great, even. How are you?” Stan asked, turning his body to face the other teen, pushing a few curls away from his eyes for better vision. Bill’s hand fell from his shoulder, sliding down his arm until he reached the other boy’s hand, lightly grazing it.

“I’m good.” Bill chuckled, a soft smile on his face. Stan smiled back and lowered his head, staring at his shoes. “I-I’m gonna head inside, wanna c-come?” Stan nodded, following the slightly shorter boy up the lawn, shaking his head as if to rid himself of the thoughts swirling in his head.

As Stan and Bill travelled up the span of grass and into the house, the other five standing off to the side, observing the interaction. “I think tonight’s the night, fellas.” Mike said from his place propped against the side of the house. “Might as well pay up now.”

“Not so fast, Micycle.” Ben spoke up, pointing an accusing finger at the older teen. “Bet’s not over until someone makes a move or they tell us they’re together. You haven’t won shit yet.”

“Yeah, we all have to see it.” Richie informed as if it weren’t obvious enough at that point, throwing his arm around Eddie’s waist and pulling him closer, pressing a lingering kiss to his cheek, jawline, and neck making the smaller boy blush noticeably.

“Get a room, you two.” Beverly snickered at the pair and began making her way up the porch steps, squeezing through the crowd of people with Ben at her side.

“She’s just jealous she’s not as happy as we are, Edward Spaghedward.” Richie grinned, moving in to mold their lips together only to have Eddie dodge his lips, arm dropping from his waist.

“You’re revolting.” Eddie snarked, trying his best to portray annoyance but the smile on his face gave him away. Mike rolled his eyes at the couple, watching Richie follow Eddie around the side of the house, and then making his way into the house to seek out the other four losers.

“Mike!” Beverly shouted to him when he was able to track her down, her voice barely audible over the music. “I was wondering if you were ever going to make it inside! This was your brilliant idea after all!” She said, nudging him with her elbow as she took a swig from the beer she was clutching. Ben came walking through a doorway a few seconds after that, a beer matching Beverly’s in his right hand.

“Where’d you get those?” Mike asked and followed Ben’s hand as he pointed toward the doorway he had just come from.

“Through the doorway, down the hallway, last room on the left. In the kitchen.” He informed the other teen, sending Mike to trek in the direction he carefully laid out. As he made his way down the hallway, the music seemed to grow softer and softer until it was a gentle hush, the beat humming through the floors. An obnoxiously loud ‘ha-ha’ erupted from the room to his left and he peered in.

Bill had positioned himself on the counter, a hand slapped over his mouth as he tried to suppress the cackle threatening to rip through him. Stan sat at the table, a shit-eating grin covering his face as he rearranged the flowers in the vase. “St-stop, o-oh my God!”

“What?” He asked innocently with a smile, eyes twinkling and stood up, walking toward the fridge. He fidgeted for a moment before deciding to organize the magnets plastered on the surface.

“Don’t play so innocent, St-Stanley,” Bill remarked, pointing an accusing finger in Stan’s direction. “You know wh-what you did.” And he did but he was slowly forgetting it by the second, the light buzz clouding his thoughts. Bill slid off the counter, walking toward the table and grabbing another beer out of the cooler that had been set there.

Stan finished rearranging the alphabetical magnets back in the order that they belonged and turned around, a fond expression on his face as he stood in front of the fridge and watched Bill dig through the ice for a bottle of beer. Mike still leaned against the wall, peering in slightly from the doorway, careful to go unnoticed by two of his closest friends. He felt a bit odd watching his friends from behind a wall, peering into their love life like this, but in his eyes it seemed to be a necessary evil.

“I think they’re all o-out over here, are there any i-in the fridge?” Bill turned around, locking eyes with Stanley. Stan lowered his head, gaze dropping down to stare at his feet, the lip between his teeth now his main source of concern as he chewed it nervously.

“I-I don’t know.” Stan stammered with his feet still planted firmly on the floor. It wasn’t until Bill had come to stand in front of him that he finally rose his gaze. Bill was smiling at him now and Stan felt as if he could collapse against the cool metal of the fridge to bring him back to reality. He thought he might be dreaming with the way Bill dropped his gaze down to his lips for a split second. It happened so fast Stan briefly thought he may have imagined it, but then he did it again and seemed to lean closer to him.

Suddenly, Bill’s hands are on either side of Stan’s face and their lips are being pressed together gently. Stan concludes with this that he is either dreaming or dead because there was absolutely no way that this was real life. Bill’s lips are warm in his and just as soft as he’d imagined but Bill had been drinking, the proof lingering on his baby-soft lips and leaving a disturbing taste in Stanley’s mouth.

Stan is the one to break the kiss, using his better judgement to decide for the both of them that this was just the alcohol, leaving Bill standing in the middle of the kitchen as he walked from the kitchen to the hallway. Mike had taken it upon himself to move to another room so as to not get caught spying. Given the way the events played out before him just moments ago, he decided that this shouldn’t be taken as a victory.

They all come to a mutual decision to leave the party within the hour.


Beverly decided that the best way to meddle was to not meddle at all, but to tell them straight away to 'cut the shit and work it out’. It was notable that the pair hadn’t been seen hanging out since the party two weeks earlier. Whenever one of them entered the room, the other would make an excuse to leave it. 'I just remembered that my dad said he needed to talk to me about something’, 'I should probably get home not it my parents will worry’, 'I forgot to feed my hamster’ or something along those lines.

The new development was beginning to put a strain on their group and Beverly was slowly starting to get annoyed because why couldn’t they just act like normal human beings for one minute? Why can’t they be civil and stay in the same room or vicinity for longer than three seconds? She finally decided that enough was enough and teamed up with Eddie to set a plan in motion.

“Hey, Stanny.” She chirped one afternoon at the quarry while they sat up on the cliff above the water. Neither one of them wanted to swim that day, and after a while the others had come up to join them.

“Hey, Bev.” He replied from his place on the boulder that he was sitting atop of. Beverly kept a close eye on the clearing, waiting for a certain stuttering 17 year old to make an appearance. Beverly decided that it would be Eddie’s job to convince Bill to come to the quarry with them (on the condition that Stan wouldn’t be there, which was an obvious lie), and he felt proud that he was successful in his task.

The unmistakable grinding of Silver’s chain as Bill came to a stop brought Beverly away from her thoughts as she smiled at the boy who was hopping off his bike. He wore a bright smile on his face as well as a pair of khaki shorts and the pale blue shirt that Stan had once said brought out his eyes, it was his favorite. The smile on his face had dropped noticeably as he approached his friends, Stan’s mouth hanging open as he slid off of the rock.

An awkward silence fell over the seven teenagers immediately, all conversations coming to a halt. As Richie had once remarked: “It’s almost like a terrible car crash. It’s awful and you know you should look away, but you just can’t.”

“I should rea—” Stan began just as Beverly threw her hands up and cutting Stan’s sentence off even though it was no surprise where it was headed.

“No!” Bev shouted causing the other six teens to jump slightly. “I don’t know what the hell is going on between the two of you. You were friends two weeks ago and then you just stop? Shit like this doesn’t just happen for no reason, so what is it?” She demanded, her gaze shooting from Bill to Stan, her hands planted firmly on her hips. Bill shoved his hands deep into the pockets, staring down at his feet, glancing up at Stanley. Beverly’s patience was beginning to wear thin in the silence that surrounded them.

Stan turned sharp on his heel, gathering the books he had brought along with him. He stood straight up and stared directly in front of him at Bill who now had his bottom lip between his teeth, gnawing on it. “Look, you have been pining after one another for months now and frankly I’m tired of waiting for someone to make the first move. So would you please just cut the shit and figure it out?” Bev asked, exasperated. Stan had his eyes fixed on her, surprised by the sudden burst from the girl and that she and all of his friends knew how he felt about the stuttering boy standing just ten feet in front of him.

Stan regained his composure seconds later, explaining that he needed to leave due to an obligation he had made to his father early on, which Beverly knew was crap but she rolled her eyes and waved him off. Eddie and Richie soon resumed their conversation, smiling awkwardly at each other while they did so since Beverly’s outburst had set an awkward tone, the same went for Mike and Ben.

As Stan marched past Bill he felt their shoulders brush together and tried to ignore the fluttering that enveloped his heart, shoving his books back into his bag and zipping the bag closed. He threw the straps over his shoulders and got on his bike, starting to head down the path they had come up. Bill hesitated for a moment before heading back over to his back and following Stanley.

Stan braked hard when they reached a clearing far enough from the rest of the losers, Bill pulling up next to him, getting back off of his bike and he watched Stan do seconds before him, letting his bike fall to the ground next to Stanley’s which was propped up on its stand. “What do you want from me?”

“Wh-what do you mean?” Bill asked innocently as Stan paced across the dirt floor of the woods, the white sides of his shoes becoming noticeably caked in the dirt he was mixing beneath his feet, ruining the cleanliness of his outfit.

“Oh, cut the bullshit, Bill! First you kiss me and then it’s like you can’t stand to be near me!” Stan asked and turned to face Bill fully, fists clenched at his sides. Bill could see the frustration burning behind his eyes, begging to be let free. “Just, help me understand, Bill. What is going on?” Stan was breathing heavily, the heat mixing with the fire that already sparked beneath his bones, his curls beginning to stick to his skin. It’s silent for a few moments before Bill speaks again.

“I-I was scared.” He begins, digging the toe of his shoe in the dirt, hands shoved back into his pockets as Stanley’s eyes burned holes into his head. “You pulled away, I thought I had ruined o-our friendship, I’m still not completely sure that I ha-hav-haven’t.” Bill said, stumbling slightly over his words. Stan’s eyes soften with this confession, taking a small step forward. Bill doesn’t seem to notice this new development, though, since his eyes are glued to his feet yet again. “I guess it was just the beer making me think you liked me back.”

“You’re joking, right?” Stan asks in astonishment. He takes another brave step forward, the tips of his shoes hitting Bill’s. “Are you seriously this dense?” Bill lifts his gaze at this, his face suddenly very close to Stanley’s. “I’m absolutely crazy about you.” Bill is smiling softly at the boy in front of him, the gentleness he displays is causing his heart to soar higher than he’s ever know before. Stan has a hand at the base of Bill’s neck, his thumb brushing lightly across the cheekbone on the left of Bill’s face, gulping visibly as he leaned closer to bring their lips together.

It’s a gentle brush of their lips at first and Bill feels his heart stop momentarily, limbs going numb before Stan pulls back slightly and the movement is enough to send a jolt through Bill’s body. He then has both of his hands on either side of Stan’s face and he’s pulling back in for a proper kiss, lips slotting together perfectly and meshing together as they move backward, Bill’s back hitting a tree and Stan swears he’s never felt more alive in his seventeen years of living.

Bill’s hands are cupping Stan’s cheeks while the latter’s hand make their way into Bill’s hair and he’s curving into him slightly and Bill swears he must have died at that moment. A gasp escapes him and he reluctantly pulls away from Stanley, resting their foreheads together. Stan has his eyes shut, brows furrowed slightly and Bill swears it’s one of the cutest things he has seen in a while. They stand there, pressed against the harsh bark of the tree for a minute or so before Stan breaks the silence.

“We should probably head back, and definitely do that again. Soon.” He grins and Bill nods, pressing another quick kiss to his lips.


A month later, the losers are sitting in Bill’s living room discussing their mutual hatred of the next school year that was rapidly approaching (well, all except Ben), and the only thing that had changed since before was the development between Stan and Bill. Stan still sits next to Bill only now their hands are linked together and the smiles on their faces are brighter than before.

They’ll share the occasional kiss and Richie can be heard gagging from across the room. “I won’t lie, I liked it better when you two were miserable and pining. At least then none had to suffer through watching you eat each other’s faces.” Richie had also won the bet by default. Beverly lost since the rest of the losers had mutually decided that what she (and Eddie) did was meddling at its finest.

“Like it’s any better when you and Eddie do it.” Bill defended, pulling his boyfriend closer with an arm around his shoulders and pressing lips to his hairline.

“Eddie and I save our face eating for the bedroom, thank you very much.” Richie explained and Eddie didn’t hesitate to punch his arm and scoot away from him, although he did my complain when Richie was wrapping his arms around Eddie’s waist and pulling him back into him, peppering kisses down Eddie’s neck and causing the smaller boy to squirm. Stan scrunched up his nose at the other couple, turning his attention back to Bill.

When all was  said and done, though, their friends were happy that the two teens no longer needed to wait for one another. They were content in living their lives just the way they were right then.

RIP Malcolm Young 1953-2017

I still remember the first time I heard AC/DC. I was in the car with my mom and the opening of “You Shook Me All Night Long” came on. I was like, “Wow, this absolutely rocks.” Years later, when I started getting back into rock, AC/DC was the first band I ever fell in love with. Like anyone, I loved Angus and his showmanship, but I fell in love with Malcolm Young, the underrated rhythm guitarist, happy to stand in the back and let his brother have all the attention. 

To those that were casual listeners of AC/DC, Angus may have looked like the main guy in the band, but it was truly Mal who controlled everything. Everyone followed his lead onstage, able to control everyone’s movements onstage just with the way he held his hand. Above that, he was a brilliant songwriter, writing hit after hit after hit of the biggest earworm songs there ever was and proabably ever will be.

Malcolm Young was such an inspiration to me because above being an absolutely incredible artist, he was just the perfect example of what a rockstar should be. He was the most humble man, aware of his succes but yet unbothered by it. He never backed down and always led by example. He was loyal, honest, and a great man. There’s a hole in rock music forever now, but his legacy will always Ride On.

To me, Malcolm Young was everything I aspired to be. He showed me what music was and how to write songs, some of the first of my own material being direct rip-offs of AC/DC licks. He was the one who made me pick up a guitar and was the only reason I decided to focus on rhythm because I saw how badass Malcolm made it. Most importantly, he showed me the true impact of music and how a simple power chord could unite millions of people, always bringing a smile to their faces. A decade after first hearing AC/DC, I sit here writing this, listening to the same song that first got me into them. There are tears running down my face, my heart is broken, but I’m smiling because “You Shook Me All Night Long” is on. And I think that’s what he would’ve wanted. 

If you’ve read down to here, I congratulate you. This is way too long and I apologize. But I’m passionate about Malcolm Young the way he was passionate about AC/DC and music. So go put on an AC/DC song today and smile while you sing along to it at the top of your lungs. For Malcolm. Rock in Peace.

anonymous asked:

Did zayn fall for liam first? and liam didn't love him back until later? is that why people talk about unrequited love when talking about ziam?

Hi anon,

I think they both fell pretty early on or at least had a strong bond.  I think it just took Liam longer to work things through and work things out.  ‘I figured it out’ 

They were so young and on the one hand, Liam had chased the dream of music and a career for some time, add to that any insecurities he already had based on school experiences which we can only guess at and the bullying he said he experienced.

That impacts on every single part of your life, and who knows what messages they were fed as young artists which worried Liam.  He’s said that one of the things he would tell his younger self-was to ‘lighten up’ and I think he just needed time personally.

And of course that impacted on Zayn, but they got there in the end.   As always, could be talking out me bum here and could be very wrong but that’s my perception. 

nativelittleone  asked:

I’m so done with America right now. Why is it that every time BTS comes here, someone has to ruin it? For the YNWA tour, the blonde bitch asked ‘Wasn’t it YouTube’ and it made me so FUCKING MAD. And now no one takes into account how hard these boys have worked and low long they have worked. All the American interviewers care about is if they will get to actually understand the lyrics for their songs. THERES SUCH A THING AS SUBTITLES. These boys have worked their asses off, for seven years.

I agree and disagree at the same time. I think that the interviewers could have done a little more research or asked a few deeper questions or so. But I think everyone needs to keep in mind that many of the questions asked are basic ones they ask virtually every celeb they interview. I’ve seen a lot of rant posts about all of it and I honestly think its pointless. For those posts, instead of raging about about how every interview question wasn’t perfect to their expectations, we should focus more on the AMAs itself and giving BTS our unconditional love and support. 

I’m not the type of person to find an issue in every little thing. There are some things I wish they would have asked but at the end of the day its out of our control. And it definitely gets tiring when they always ask about songs in English. But I suppose it doesn’t hurt to ask. I just don’t like how they word it: “When will you put a song out in english?” It would be less pressuring to ask “Will you be putting a song out in english?” Theres nothing wrong with asking a question. They don’t know what BTS has in store for the American market. But I definitely do think that their hardwork should be more recognized than it is right now.

anonymous asked:

Hiya! First of all, I love your blog! Secondly, for the ask event, what are your favorite/least favorite memories since you've been Dark's assistant? Thank you! :)

Well firstly, Thanks so much! As for yer question….

That’s a tough answer, but I suppose I could give ya both halves, least favorite memory? Definitely the first few days of being here. Or was it weeks? I’m not really sure.

Ah, But The Unrelenting Teasing With Your Life Was Worth It, Even If It took A Toll On Your Performance…

Sure it was… As for favorite memory? Well, Dark has his moments, but the one I think back to the most was the first time he showed any sign of caring about me…

Of Course, That Ended With Blackmail By A Certain Mustachioed Fellow…

anonymous asked:

I see you are pro-curse/hex. I am a baby witch and trying to learn a little about a lot to see what interests me. Curses stick out as negative or "bad" magic to me, but I think this is largely due to my raising given me a bad bias. Do you have any good posts that could help me see them in an unbiased way? I am drawn to some things and away from others, as I feel is normal. I just want to give everything a fair shot instead of avoiding what I simply don't understand.

  1. Curses vs. Hexes: What’s the Difference? (Check the notes on this one for valuable additions by other witches)

And honestly, I couldn’t find anything that I could use here.
Curses are a form of malevolent magick and that can’t be denied because the purpose of a curse is to cause discord to your target, but you’ll probably notice that a lot of curses aren’t for spurned lovers, or people who have been mildly ticked off. You’ll notice that a lot of us - myself included - actually use curses as a way of achieving justice and closure on situations and/or people that have truly hurt or wronged us, such as abusers. 

One of my favourite quotes, is “magic is the resource of the downtrodden” - it came from a witch on tumblr, but I cannot remember who they were. I think that curses play a huge part in being a resource for those of us who have been hurt, or wronged, or used, or trodden on. It’s a way for us to do something for ourselves, to fight back in our own way when all other paths have been exhausted or are inaccessible.

In a way, curses set us on the path to healing.

The One Who Corrupted Thomas Sanders (Part 2)

Part 1

Warnings: There’s a tiny swear. Also mention of freezing, and some pain. I think that’s it.

Tag list: @musicphanpie-b, @imin-loveanon, @ordinary-chaos, @sandersandthesides, @ajumbleofwords, @demonickittykat, @zadi-jyne, @serenefreakgeek, @fandons-mangoes, @leesacrakon, @gayfagg, @tree4life25, @loverofpizzaandallthingssweet, @ilovemygaydad, @kittyboof8, @alwaysmy-lilith, @cinquefoilelove

Read on AO3 here

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Thefandomrembers pointed out that Dany gets an orgasm when she first rides Drogon. Given her unnatural obsession with sex and fire, are you really surprised? We all know how her dad got so turned on by burning people that he'd proceed to brutally rape her mother. Dany was the result of one those pyromaniac rapes.

“The lash was still in her hand. She flicked it against Drogon’s neck and cried, “Higher!” Her other hand clutched at his scales, her fingers scrabbling for purchase. Drogon’s wide black wings beat the air. Dany could feel the heat of him between her thighs. Her heart felt as if it were about to burst. Yes, she thought, yes, now, now, do it, do it, take me, take me, FLY!” - Daenerys IX, A Dance With Dragons

I think the language here speaks for itself. It’s so weirdly sexual for the situation. She doesn’t think ‘take me away’, she thinks ‘take me.’ Also ‘Dany could feel the heat of him between her thighs.’ Out of context, that’s very clearly sexual.

But like… Daenerys is nothing like her daddy. *sarcasm*

cesarin

Servant au: what do the boys prefer to wear of they could choose ? What would April give them ?

I think to have a sense of fashion they’d likely have to be introduced to it themselves. Or maybe it’s just something I need to think a little harder about. It’s tricky for me to consider that because their knowledge of human culture/fashion statements is relatively limited. They could probably pick something out themselves if they were allowed outside.

As for what April would get them, dunno. I was sorta looking for ideas in all honesty.

I got a few uniform-like ones tossed that way and a lot of them would be cute to wear around the house. I’m just not sure if any of them call out to me except maybe the aprons, but that’s more a cooking thing. Just need to think about it more I think.

In the meantime, here they are in various coats/hoodies. Happy 1100! It sorta snuck up on me a bit.

3

Blossom: Okay, why are you here?

Shamrock: Cosma broke up with me. 

Blossom: What? You guys were just totally fine?

Shamrock: She thinks I cheated on her.

Blossom: Did you?

Shamrock: Wh- No, Blossom! You know her. She’s paranoid from that one dick who fucked her over. I thought maybe it would help that I was cheated on too. That maybe she knew I wouldn’t do that. I guess I thought we could, I dunno. Heal each other. 

Blossom: I guess it wasn’t enough. I’m sorry man. So she just kicked you out?

Shamrock: Literally. Threw me and my shit into the mud. I feel like such a wimp. My parents passed a few years ago, ya know? I knew you had a spare key. I should have texted, i’m sorry. 

Blossom: It’s all good. Anise only looked a little traumatized, so, no worries. 

anonymous asked:

This album /era feels like closure for Taylor. I'm not saying she's retiring by any means, but it does make you ask, where does she go from here?

not to me? one could easily say the same thing about clean after 1989. it feels like there are MULTIPLE clear paths forward for her from here - more pop, something more stripped back and acoustic, something more r&b inspired..the possibilities are endless IMO. but why are we thinking about the end when it’s just the beginning? 

everqueen12  asked:

hmmm what about if during the final Hunger attack the IPRE members had to fight black opal versions of themselves from the worlds where they lost? (and i hope it's okay if i keep randomly sending headcanons and shit to you because i have Quite a Few)

oh hell yes

so…here are my thoughts on this, and bear with me, it took a little while to collect them all. because on one hand we could for sure have a, like, taako-v-taako and magnus-v-magnus and merle-v-merle, but that would just be standoffish? and probably not get anywhere. 

but here’s the crucial difference - the hunger is indifference, manifest. shadow!taako wouldn’t lift a finger to help shadow!magnus, whereas the real versions of our beloved characters totally would.

i think it would be…awkward? and funny, in retrospect (”hey merle remember that time you tried to get revenge for your arm by warhammering my shoulder” “that wasn’t me!”) but i think eventually, our boys would win. also, there would be some super sweet parallels between our boys being able to actually ask for help and deriving strength from that willingness

(and yes, please send me headcanons. as like a general thing, to everyone. i love them and i love talking about our boys. any time. askbox is always open)

I may have already mentioned this one here but i think i only did on insta?

So i was suppose to work yesterday and tomorrow and then i would leave tomorrow night to drive home to stay with my parents for the week off from school, well my boss is the best ever and said he would take those two shifts and my shift next friday so i could have a longer break and not have to stay at my house alone. I didn’t tell my parents i was coming home early and surprised them which was a lot of fun.

Last night we went downtown to grab a beer before my sis got home, then we all spent the rest of the night eating chinese food and starting the new season of survivor!

Today my mom and i (and maybe my sis and dad) are going to go to SF and see the craft faire, plus as a bonus two of my aunts are sharing a booth there so it will be fun to see them as well!

Chapter Two

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for everything you said around the first chapter. It was really awesome and you guys are awesome and I just really love you for giving me such nice feedback on a new fic in a new fandom. SO…here’s the next one. Enjoy, and please do let me know what you think…


“Please don’t,” Tom sighed. 

He’d just opened his front door to let Luke in and he was grinning like a cat that had caught the canary. And to be quite honest, he wasn’t sure he could dead with that at this early hour in the morning. 

“Then I won’t. Come on, car’s waiting.”

Luke managed a full five minutes, though that was pushing it, before mentioning the happenings of the previous evening. It had to be said, Tom had been pleasantly surprised by this fact.

Keep reading

Shall we dance~

I had fun with this one, this artists character is just fun to draw. But I have to say I find this character attractive? Like something about this character is an eye catching thing, I can’t put my word to it although I have to agree this character is attractive.

Anyways! I asked the artists if I could draw his character and he said it was alright, I couldn’t think of anything to draw I didn’t really want to draw just the character I want to do something different, so I was looking up some stuff and music and here I thought, this character is based on musical so what should I do for this character?
I happen to come across the tango and I’m like OK it’s stuck into my head I have to draw this.
Sooooooo this pop in my head, HA! It’s not that bad though.

Oh! Also love your art @erkfir
Keep drawing!

The constructor @erkfir
Ethelinda @ me

(I just have to say

In the new Thomas sanders vid

Y'know the fake anime about “relic hunters” that had like four kids

And how thomas described them the one was all about the adventuring while the other was like “omg why are we here? I don’t want to do this, I just want to teach?”“

All I could think of was logince

Roman: LETS GO ADVENTURE! FIND THE RELICS!!! HAHA!

Logan: Roman please, why are we doing this? What about the kids? Goodness I just want to teach.


(Could be prinxiety too , but the whole "teacher” thing fit better with logan)