for you bb i hope you like it

gresthegreat  asked:

Hi! It' my first time to make a request ^^ Can I have a scenario of hoshi? When his gf(y/n) and him got a serious argument and one day some of his/her friend called him because she pass out. Make it super angst but fluffy in the end ☺ TYSM! 😊

Hi bb and sorry for the long wait of this being written 💕 ;u; I don’t think this is anywhere near super angsty but I hope you enjoy it nevertheless!

Some months into your relationship with Soonyoung, you had started noticing something about him that you didn’t like; something that made you feel very uneasy.

He was possessive - overly so.

At first you didn’t think much of it, as it only felt natural that he wanted to spend time with you and didn’t necessarily want you to dress too revealingly and so on, but when he started getting upset whenever you couldn’t see him because you were seeing someone else - on a friendly occasion - and trying to limit who you could see and when as well as how you should be dressed, alarm bells went on in your mind.

That Tuesday, you and Soonyoung were out for coffee after taking a nice walk by the beach, and it had all been nice. You had talked and joked as per usual, holding hands and making plans for the near future, and even at the café you were caressing each other’s hands on the table.

“I was thinking we could go see a movie on Saturday,” Soonyoung smiled while rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. The smile on your lips faltered.

“I’ve already promised to go look for a birthday present to my friend’s boyfriend with her,” you said as softly as you could, only hoping that he would be understanding. There was nothing wrong with making plans with someone else and you knew that, yet you couldn’t shake the anxiety off your shoulders.

Soonyoung’s expression darkened a little. “Aren’t you seeing her a lot?”

“She’s my best friend,” you defended yourself and pulled your hand away from Soonyoung’s, the anxiety inside of you growing before slowly mixing with annoyance. “I have every right to see my friends, Soonyoung.”

“I’m just saying,” he grumbled and ran his fingers through his hair, recently dyed bright orange, which you loved to tease him about, and frowned. “You should spend more time with me.”

You stared him dead in the eye. “I see you every other day at least, isn’t that enough?”

There was a quick hint of something in Soonyoung’s eyes that you couldn’t quite identify yet sent chills down your spine, and he let out a heavy sigh as he sat better in his chair and stirred his drink with the straw in it.

“Is it that wrong to want you all for myself?” he asked in a mumble.

You were fuming. “Uh, yes?” You sat back on your chair and crossed your arms by your chest. “You don’t own me.”

Soonyoung’s eyebrows knitted, and his face seemed to turn sour altogether, as if his mind immediately went to “I wish I did.” Your heart was racing in your chest as feelings of anger and upset mixed together.

The man in front of you was barely a shadow of the loving, friendly one you had fallen in love with, the one who wished you had a good time with your friends whenever you went out with them and didn’t check up on you every hour and get upset if you were too busy to answer within a few minutes.

Silence hung over you for a moment, only broken when you grabbed your bag from the floor and stood up. “If you really think you’re entitled to tell me what I can or can’t do, I don’t want to see you again.”

Soonyoung remained silent as you left the café, and only continued moving the clear straw in his iced coffee while biting down on his lower lip.

How had he ended up there?

After the date that had turned into a disaster, you didn’t talk with Soonyoung. You refused to contact him until he apologized, and since he wasn’t contacting you, either, you decided to just let it be. If he loved you and realized that there was something wrong with the way he acted, he’d contact you sooner or later.

Meanwhile, Soonyoung was too ashamed to send you a message, much less call you, and instead spent time repenting on his actions and feelings, using dance as therapy of some sort.

It wasn’t easy on you, however, as much as one might think it’s only nice to not have someone as possessive around you. After all, he was your boyfriend, and the uncertainty of where you stood as well as having been hurt by him yet not receiving an apology pained you.

As much as you loved him, you could recognize an unhealthy relationship, and didn’t want to be a part of one.

You didn’t want to break up with him, but you also didn’t want to be with someone who was as possessive and controlling over you as he seemed to be, yet you had no idea where your relationship was going with the silence between the two of you.

And so, you lived with constant anxiety.

It was difficult for you to focus on anything, as your mind kept going back to what had happened - the date and the days before it - as well as the fact that Soonyoung didn’t seem to want to apologize, which you thought meant he had yet to realize the errors of his ways, which in turn only made you more anxious and upset.

The anxiety was eating at you fast, and as it made it difficult for you to sleep or eat anywhere near enough, it only grew, and so the vicious cycle was born. You were overly tense and alert throughout the day, whether it was 12pm or 3am, and did your best to do everything you possibly could to get your thoughts elsewhere, as long as it meant you didn’t have to focus on the root of the problem.

Whenever your phone buzzed, your heart jumped to your throat. You were nervous it would be Soonyoung, and whenever it turned out that it wasn’t, you frowned as a mix of feelings wallowed inside of you. On one hand you were happy you didn’t have to deal with the situation, but on the other hand you were sad that he still didn’t have it in him to contact you and apologize and talk things out.

As days passed, you felt weaker and weaker and the bags under your eyes only reached lower, and somewhere deep down, you knew you missed Soonyoung, a lot.

Some days over a week after your last meeting with Soonyoung, the concept of sleeping a full 8 hours or eating 3 meals a day felt oddly foreign to you, as you could barely sleep for two hours without interruptions or stomach much of anything.

The week after your argument, you had spent days looking forward to an outing with your best friend on the weekend in hopes of it helping you relax and think about more pleasant things. And frankly, it did work, if for a moment at a time, and you had a good time, although you had felt weak and even a bit dizzy every now and then.

You were on your way from a clothing store to one of the restaurants in the floor above, but when you reached the top of the escalator, you stopped and got your hand to the side of your head, your eyes falling shut and your legs feeling wobbly as everything started to look and feel blurry and surreal.

“Y/F/N, wait, I need a mo–”

Suddenly everything blacked out, and by the time your friend was kneeling down next to you, trying to get a response from you, you were already unconscious.

Soonyoung had been dancing a lot more than usual after your argument, and had more or less only left the dancing studio to eat and sleep during the past two weeks. He was mid-dancing when his phone started ringing, and he sighed while turning the music off and reaching for his phone. His heart jumped to his throat when he saw that the call was coming from your number, and hesitated a little before answering the call.

“Y/N?” he asked, voice a bit shaky, but his eyes widened when the voice didn’t belong to you.

“No, it’s Y/F/N, and I have something to say to you.”

“…Go on,” Soonyoung mumbled and sat down on the floor, ready for whatever was going to come at him.

”How much of a jerk can you be?! When you began dating, I was so happy for Y/N because they were so bubbly and so in love and I really thought you were a good guy, but based on the past few weeks, I’m not so sure. Do you realize what you did wrong the last time you saw Y/N?”

“Yes,” Soonyoung said quietly, remorse clearly audible in his voice, and fiddled a little with the hem of his top. He could hear your friend taking her breath.

”Then why on earth have you not called them? They’ve been feeling terrible and I’m so damn mad at you for making them feel that way when you’re supposed to make them happy! I didn’t want to meddle in this too much, but Y/N passed out when we were out, and that’s just… that’s the last straw. Man up, Soonyoung. Y/N needs you, and if you really know what you did wrong and feel remorse, I think you need them, too.”

Soonyoung processed your friend’s words for a moment, but there was mostly one thing that clung to his mind, which had his heart racing in anxiety, his eyebrows furrowing and breath nearly hitching in his throat. “Y/N passed out?”

”Yes, and if you want to make things right, you better drag your ass to their place soon.”

He only had time to mumble something before your friend hung up on him, and he had quite likely never been as fast to leave the studio as he was then.

An hour or so later, your friend opened your apartment’s door to Soonyoung, who smiled sheepishly at her, carrying a simple bouquet of your favorite flowers as well as a self-made card that said “Sorry for being an idiot” on the front of it. Your friend laughed at it and shook her head.

“Great choice of words,” she noted, and Soonyoung nodded with a quiet chuckle.

“Can’t disagree,” he admitted, and pursed his lips when he had closed the door behind himself. “Is Y/N okay? Where are they?”

Your friend pointed at your bedroom door that was almost shut, and then lifted her forefinger before her lips. “I got them to drink some chamomile tea, and now they’re sleeping. I don’t think Y/N’s gotten to sleep that well in a while.”

Soonyoung’s smile got a sad hint to it. “I’m so sorry…”

“Save the apologies,” your friend whispered and patted Soonyoung’s back before pointing at the living room area. “Let’s go sit there.”

They sat down on your couch and talked quietly: Soonyoung asked about how you had been doing, and your friend told him the full miserable story of it, and by the end of it Soonyoung felt like he was being suffocated.

“I’ve really got a lot to improve, don’t I?” he asked rhetorically and ran his fingers through his hair, his cheeks flushed in embarrassment and his eyes nearly watering. Your friend smiled a little, but gave him an honest nod.

“I’m sure you can do it. The fact that you realize you need to change is a good start,” she said and chuckled softly. “If you hurt Y/N, I’ll kick your ass.”

Soonyoung snickered, but regained his seriousness fast as he thought about you, his chest feeling pleasantly warm at the memory of your good times together. “I’ll do my best.”

“Good,” your friend hummed, and perked up when your voice could be heard from your bedroom.

Soonyoung stood up quickly, the flowers and card in his hands, and was about to bolt to your room before realizing that it probably wasn’t the wisest thing to do. He turned to look at your friend. “…Could you ask Y/N if they want to see me?”

Your friend smiled warmly at him and nodded, patting his shoulder as she came to your room. Soonyoung tapped the flowers with his fingers anxiously while he waited, and looked hopefully at your bedroom door when your friend came back out.

“You can go.”

Soonyoung nodded in understanding and walked to your room when your friend had come out.

“Hey,” he said softly from the door, and you looked at him blankly with a hint of sadness on your face.

“Why haven’t you called?” you asked, your voice breaking a little as tears began falling from your eyes. Soonyoung’s lips formed an automatic pout as his eyes welled up with tears, too, and he made his way to your bed to sit down next to you. You were half-sitting against the wall, and wiped your eyes with the backs of your hands, too tired and exhausted to fight the emotions that desperately wanted to be shown.

“I’m sorry,” Soonyoung said softly, placing his hand on top of you on the blanket once he had put the flowers and card next to you. “I should’ve called, I just… I was so ashamed…”

“Still,” you mumbled and looked at him, your eyes a bit puffy and your lips quivering.

“I can’t change the past, but I want you to know that I regret it,” Soonyoung said, his voice as steady as he could keep it, and looked into your eyes. “I regret behaving the way I did, feeling the way I did, not calling and apologizing when I really should have…”

You nodded as he apologized, and dried your tears again. The anxiety inside of you was slowly easing down, and the feeling of relief was starting to take over - you were infinitely grateful.

“Do you think you can forgive me?”

Looking into Soonyoung’s eyes, as candid and warm as ever, you nodded slowly. “But you need to change. We can’t… We can’t go on if you act like you own me. I need a life of my own, too.”

He nodded determinedly and took your hand into his when you had placed it on your lap. He caressed it gently. “I’ll change. I know it’s not right, and I don’t want to be like that. You deserve so much better.”

You let out a relieved sigh. “I’ll call you out if you cross the line again.”

“Please do,” Soonyoung said with a soft chuckle, and raised his eyebrows when you pulled your hand out of his and stretched your arms out.

“Come on and hug me, you dummy,” you pouted, your lips stretching into a happy smile when Soonyoung snickered and leaned down to hug you.

As you inhaled his familiar scent and felt yourself be embraced in his steady arms, you could finally feel yourself relax.

You finally had your loving, bubbly Soonyoung back.

Admin Scooter


Ice Dance Elements presented by Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir | Dance Lifts

insp. by @eggplantgifs​ and feat. special guest appearance by Marie France Dubreuil and Patrice Lauzon

Lifts are essential elements in any Ice Dance program. They are used to enhance the character, music and choreography of the dance. They are graded on a level scale and awarded Grades of Execution (GOEs). Levels are awarded based on difficultly in the form of difficult positions, change of positions, entry and exit features, and number of rotations. Unlike pairs lifts, in Ice Dance the lifted partner cannot be supported over the head of the lifter so the lifts are identified by the position of the lifter and are split into two categories:

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finally hauled ass to draw bnha for the first time!! which happened to be on lil beansprout’s special day by sheer coincidence! happy birthday midoriya ♡



Super self indulgent but man this made me happy to draw, I hope it makes some of you happy today too ^ ^

Thank you everyone who played my Valentine’s Day Game! The event is now closed, thanks for participating!! <3


Explanations/headcanons beneath cut!


PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, EDIT, OR OTHERWISE USE MY ART. More detailed rules available on my Rules & FAQ Post.


The artist also appreciates if ship bashing can be kept out of the comments/tags. Don’t like, just skip <3 Thank you.


Like this post? Interested in supporting the artist and encouraging the creation of more similar works? Please consider purchasing the artist a coffee! Because Tumblr hides all external links, you can find the link HERE!

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you’re on your own journey of life, of self-discovery & self-growth. you’re going to make mistakes but you will learn from them. you will face hurdles but you will overcome them. you will get sad sometimes but it will soon be alright. your dreams may look like they’re on hold but you’re actually making progress. just keep going. it may seem like it’s pointless to, but just keep going anyway because despite all obstacles, you can succeed.


I’m immortal and I’m suffering.
Why must I watch all those I love pass away
While I’m still here… living, breathing…


Vinny: [goes on a hunting trip] What about these pants I got on? You think they’re okay?

Lisa: Imagine you’re a deer. You’re prancin’ along. You get thirsty. You spot a little brook. You put your little deer lips down to the cool, clear water… BAM! A fuckin’ bullet rips off part of your head! Your brains are laying on the ground in little bloody pieces! Now I ask ya, would you give a fuck what kind of pants the son of a bitch who shot you was wearing?

Greatly Appreciated (Cover)
Ly & Dom
Greatly Appreciated (Cover)

Piano by @cosmicowly
Vocals by me

Here’s the song from the episode, “Min and Marty” from Islands (Adventure Time) written by Ashley Eriksson! We hope you enjoy our cover <3 These are the lyrics and the chords Ly used:

  Eb                  Bb/D            Cm               Bb
I heard that you loved me but only for two weeks

   Fm                    Bb                Fm                   Bb
To be hopeless or not to be I’m weak with indecision

         Eb             Bb/D        Cm       Bb
Could we begin again on a terrible date?

  Fm                                 Bb         Eb      Bb/D
It would be greatly appreciated by me

Cm             Bb                  Ab             Gm
I’ll wear my normal shoes this time

         Fm                            Bb
Then maybe you’d like me better in the sunlight

 Eb         Bb/D            Cm               Bb
If I built a raft, will you stay with me then

      Fm                Bb       Eb
And fall in love all over again?

Hey everyone! I started this piece like four months ago and I’ve had such terrible writer’s block since. I originally had intended to write this piece using Sonata Allegro form but when I decided to revisit this piece I decided to go with a simpler ABA form instead since I already had the first two themes written. Then I polished up the return to the A theme and switched up the bass line a little. I’m kinda happy with it now though!

Made with SoundCloud
5. Being Attacked by Bugs

So andavs is not quite ready to post her art version yet (we already checked, the mind meld factor is not high…), but I wanted to put this up because it is a special gift for obriensnipples! Primarily as a belated birthday present, because she wanted Derek mowing the lawn shirtless but also because rough times suck and I hope this fic helps with that even if only a little bit!

So this next Not Quite Normal OTP challenge is for you, babe! I hope it brightens your day a little bit!


Stiles’ summer vacation does not start out well. In fact, it starts out pretty poorly.

Okay, really, it’s a fucking disaster.

 Because, Stiles is walking out of Beacon Hills High, officially a Junior now that the final bell has rung, and he’s talking to Scott who keeps insisting that Junior year will be the year that he will finally ask Allison out and Scott has fallen behind to stare at her and Stiles keeps walking because Scott will catch up eventually, though Stiles is keeping an eye on him, and-

Well, that’s when he gets hit by a car.

Not just any car, though. No, when Stiles regains consciousness and manages to blink away the dark spots that take up 90% of his vision, he finds himself staring at the front of a black Camaro.

And the only black Camaro in Beacon Hills belongs to…

“Oh my god.” Derek Hale.

Derek Hale, the now-senior lacrosse player and subject of almost all of Stiles’ dirtiest fantasies.

He groans. And it’s only partly from the pain.


“Stiles!” Scott sounds frantic. “I’m calling an ambulance.”

“I don’t need,” Stiles tries. And then stops. Because he looks down to see his leg covered in blood and he has never liked blood and- well, he doesn’t complain when Scott stands up with the phone pressed to his ear.

“I’m sorry!” Derek Hale is saying and he sounds… angry? This is not how Stiles wanted his first interaction with Derek Hale to go. “You just- you just walked right into the road!”

“Dude,” Stiles replies, rubbing at his eye. “Are you really blaming me for this?”

“Not blaming you, I just- you walked right in front of me!”

“You hit me with your car!” Stiles winces at the sounds of his own voice. It’s too loud. Everything is too loud.

When he opens his eyes again, Derek’s eyebrows are draw together in concern.

“I’m sorry,” Derek repeats. It’s probably just the result of Derek’s ridiculously attractive face and Stiles’ epic crush on the kid, but Stiles forgives him instantly. Even though he’s getting colder by the second and he’s pretty sure that’s not a good thing.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, waving a hand and regretting it when the motion hurts his leg somehow. “I’m sure I’m fine.”

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Sterek AU - “Princes” requested by felicitysmock:

“Your highness.” Derek gives a small, regal smile - and isn’t it funny, how such a thing as generic as a smile can convey rank in that way, betraying superiority over others - and releases Stiles’ hand from where he’d caught it mid-punch. (An accident. Mostly.)

“Prince Derek,” Stiles says, aiming for respectful decorum even through the tangible annoyance in his tone. When sneaking around the palace, he prefers not to be followed, and does not have control over his actions might he hear footsteps behind him. Hence, the near assault on the crown prince of Beacon Hills.

“You might find yourself in safer company with a sword for defense, instead of fists.”

Stiles smiles - sneers - politely. This is a game they’d often played when they were kids. Years have passed but Stiles still remembers the objective: to feign pleasantries so the Kings, their fathers, didn’t sense the dislike they had for each other. Normally they’d only play when they had an audience; they were currently alone.

Calmly: “I might find myself in safer company, if visiting nobility stayed in the guest quarters they were given.”

The smile that passes Derek’s lips this time is decidedly less princely, instead there’s a mischievousness Stiles recognizes from memories of 14-year-old Derek.

He says, “Apologies. It’s just you’re dressed for a ride, yet your waist is absent a scabbard.”

Here it was, the reason for sneaking around his own home. If Scott caught word that Stiles tried to ride to the camp his father was being held at to haggle for his release, he’d find himself tied to a chair until sense returned.

“I often go without a blade,” Stiles says, “As I never had the patience to hone the skill.”

He prefers to exploit enemies from the pages of books, is more useful crafting war strategies than leading the front line. He had, of course, the best teachers at his disposal and couldn’t have gone all his life without wielding a sword under their instructions, but there was a level of dedication that was needed to become fluent in the art. Stiles had directed that dedication elsewhere.

Now, on the brink of war, his father a flaunted captive of the Argents, and no one to represent the royal family on the battlefield but him, he wishes he’d have returned to the training ring more often than what was mandatory.

They were positioned close to one another in the palace hall, the wall torches making a show of wild shadows across Derek’s face. There was now a groomed beard where before were adolescent blemishes, there was a strong structured jaw, and a broadness that made their near-same height feel exaggerated.

Even more so when Derek leaned close in a manner of not wanting to be overheard, “War is inevitable.”

Stiles felt wholly aggravated at this point. “And?”

“And you can’t stop it. My parents will join as a display of loyalty to yours, and the both of us will end up on the field.”

None of this was unknown to him. “What would you have me do?”

A crease has formed between Derek’s dark eyebrows. Stiles lost track of when their game had stopped.

Like it was obvious, “I would have you not fall into a trap. Yes, I know you were visited with news of your father, you’d have to be blind to not see how eager you were to leave with the messenger.”

“Fall into a trap,” Stiles echoes, tone completely absent of the politeness from before. “You see me as a child, too naive to know the difference between truth and deceit?”

“I see you as desperate,” Derek argues, “As any son would be in your place. The Argents trade in master swordsmen, it is not speculation to say you can not win this way, it is truth. They will have stationed the best of their men to guard your father, and if you were to ride in, sword less, and alone, they would strike you down. Your kingdom would he heirless, your people without a ruler, those you love robbed of you-”

Stop.” Stiles fists his hair with both hands and turns from Derek, so the side of his face is visible only.

Long, aching moments pass where Stiles labores through the act of breathing. When it doesn’t take his whole strength to do so, he drops his hands, rings his fingers around his wrist, still turned from Derek.

His voice shakes, another sign of his weakness. “You think I don’t already know this?”

A noise of anger and disbelief parts from Derek’s lips. “Yet you would still go?”

“I would have this done,” Stiles closes his eyes. “Three months is a long time to wait for news of your father’s life.”

Another moment of silence passes. Then, Derek’s hand grips his elbow, stilling the restless movement of his arms.

“There are other ways.”

Stiles scoffs, an airy, short burst of laughter. “Have you already forgotten? I can’t wield a blade.”

He hasn’t let himself admit how much of a drawback this truly is. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure why he was admitting it to Derek now, they’d never been friends.

Stiles turns back around and finds Derek with a expression he isn’t familiar with. With a softness to it, it was wholly genuine.

Derek says, “I’ll teach you.”