i don't know what to write :(

Emergencies

There are things you learn from being Viktor Nikiforov’s coach, things that no other student will teach you.

“This is an emergency!” A sixteen-year-old Viktor screeches into his ear when Yakov picks up the phone.

“Vitya,” Yakov says, old heart speeding up. “Vitya, are you okay? Was there an accident? Who died?”

“An accident, this is a disaster, Yakov! I told them exactly what to do with my program outfit and they didn’t listen. They screwed up the lace, Yakov, don’t they understand what that’s supposed to represent–”

“Vitya,” Yakov says, “It is 3am in the morning. I am going back to bed.”

By the time Viktor is nineteen, Yakov is an expert in handling Viktor Nikiforov’s “emergencies.” Emergencies that, somehow, he believes only his coach capable of handling.

“Help, it’s an emergency,” Viktor whispers into the phone at eighteen. “Stephane Lambiel is so hot, Yakov, and his program this year–”

Yakov. Is. Done. When Viktor bursts into the rink at twenty, tears glistening in his beautiful blue eyes, dragging a hundred pound Makkachin with him, Yakov does not even blink. “YAKOV IT’S AN EMERGENCY, SHE IS BLEEDING YAKOV–”

“You clipped her nails too short, you fool, we’ll wrap it up and she’ll be fine.”

When Viktor Nikiforov is twenty-four, has two perfect seasons under his belt, the emergencies slow. Yakov does not miss them. He assumes his skater is finally growing up.

When Viktor Nikiforov is twenty-six, Yakov finds him sleeping on a rink bench. When he’s not skating he stares off, almost blank. When Viktor Nikiforov is twenty-six Yakov swings by his apartment to drop off his skating bag because he forgot it at the rink, again, and he finds Viktor crying, sitting straight up on his couch, TV off. When he talks to him, he realizes Viktor wasn’t even aware of the tears.

“Viktor,” he says, as gently as his face and voice can allow, “is this an emergency? How can I help you?”

“It’s fine,” Viktor says. “I’m fine.”

So often, when Viktor speaks, Yakov does not believe him. 

Things change, at the rink. Yakov tries to make sure they do. Things get a little better. There are no emergencies.

Yakov is resting on a chair in the corner at the banquet of the Sochi GPF, exhausted by small talk and schmoozing with sponsors. He is ready to go to bed. 

Then a twenty-seven year old Viktor Nikiforov is sprinting towards him, Armani jacket practically ripped open, blue eyes alight.

“YAKOV, IT’S AN EMERGENCY!”

Here he comes, Yakov thinks. Here we go

Title: Can’t Fool Me
Rating
: Explicit
Word Count
: 30k
Status
: Complete
Summary:

“I hate frats,” Louis repeats for what feels like the millionth time.

“Yes, I’ve heard, once or twice or every day for the past three years,” Liam says. His careful tone reminds Louis of how his mom always sounds when one of his siblings is on the brink of a tantrum.

Louis glances speculatively at Liam’s frat brothers, who are still huddled together and chatting, with the exception of the one who’s looking in Louis’ direction. Maybe Louis shouldn’t rule out a tantrum. While making a scene wouldn’t actually free him from fraternity nonsense in the future, it would at least be entertaining.

AU where Louis hates fraternities and would never be into a frat boy. And one of these things is definitely not a lie.

Voltron retail AU

- lance is the jewelry guy
- he wears dangly blue earrings
- his regular customers are cute old ladies who always think he needs to eat more
-when he’s not attending customers he flirts with the cute dressing room attendant
-Keith is the dressing room attendant
- it’s mostly slow, but he can see the jewelry department from his post
- people ask him for opinions on their outfits
- he’s uncomfortable sharing his fashion advice, but he’s really good at it
- hunk and pidge are markdowns. And backroom. And overnight.
- They pretty much live in the store.
- they have their own secret lingo for the goings on.
- they will drop everything if someone brings in a cute dog
- shiro is the head cashier/coordinator.
- the customers love him. He’s charming and they forget how much they’re spending.
- he organizes breaks and returns
-lance always pesters him about it
- he and allura work well together
-they have their own sign language they use to talk from opposite sides of the store
-they think they’re sly about it (they’re not)
- allura is their favorite manager
- she is scary but treats them well
- she loves setting up fancy feature tables
- matt is security
- when he applied he thought it was tech security. Orientation was awkward
- he actually does really well though
- he blends in wearing regular clothes and his low center gravity is perfect for tackling would be thieves
-Shiro find this hilarious
-the galra are the walmart across the street
-more stuff available. But no morals

The first thing Bitty does after he gets off the phone with Jack is dial his father’s number. He takes a deep breath, reminds himself that he has something to be proud of, and hits the call button.

Coach answers on the fifth ring. “Eric?”

“Hi, Coach,” Bitty says. “I have something important to tell you.”

His father pauses, then clears his throat. “Of course.”

Bitty can’t keep the huge grin off his face as he says, “I got the captaincy. I’m the captain.”

“Really? Good for you, son. You’ll make a great captain.”

“Thanks,” Bitty replies, then adds, “it was a unanimous vote.”

He knows he’s bragging, but he can’t help it. He needs Coach’s approval.

“Unanimous vote?” Coach repeats, and Bitty can hear his father smiling.

The receiver is muffled and Coach shouts, “Suzanne!”

Bitty listens as Coach tells his mother what Bitty told him.

Suzanne gasps, then says, “Dicky, I am so proud of you! But I’m not surprised.”

“I’m proud of you too, Eric,” Coach says, and that’s the instant Bitty starts to feel the guilt. They might be proud now, but they wouldn’t be if they knew about Jack.

“Thank you,” he says, and then suddenly he has to get off the phone Right Now because his throat is closing up. “Mom, Coach, I have to go. Some friends just came in.”

“Okay,” says Suzanne, “but send us some pictures from the banquet!”

“Sure,” Bitty manages. “Bye, y’all.”

“Bye, Dicky, love you!”

“Bye, Eric.”

He hangs up and just like that, he’s crying. Bitty has every reason in the world to be happy. He has Jack, he has an amazing team, he has the captaincy, but. There’s always a but, it seems like. He knows his parents would love him less if they knew he was gay. Knows it. He wonders if it’s ungrateful to be crying in his room when his team just voted him captain. He wonders why Samwell and everything he has here can’t be enough.


**

In Georgia, Coach hangs up the phone and looks at his wife. Suzanne is frowning, hands on her hips.

“You know,” she says, “when you called my name like that, I thought that was going to be it. That he would finally tell us.”

Coach sighs and sits down with her on the sofa. “I picked up the phone and he said he had something important to tell me. I thought the same thing.”

Suzanne puts her head in her hands and slumps forward. “It’s so hard to wait. I know he must be scared to tell us. But I don’t want to ask him about it, you know? I want him to do it when he feels comfortable.”

Coach puts a hand on her back. “I know, honey. Me too.”

“I just don’t want my baby to suffer,” Suzanne tells him. “God knows he’s done enough of that.”

Coach pulls her closer. “I know,” he repeats. “I know.”

Write-O-Ween Prompts: Unusual and Rare Words Edition

As practice for the famous NANOWRIMO, a prompts list of unusual and rare words! I’ll try writing them: will you?

  1. Uncanny: strange or mysterious, especially in an unsettling way
  2. Chimerical: merely imaginary; fanciful
  3. Susurrus: a whispering or rustling sound
  4. Aubade: a song greeting the dawn
  5. Ephemeral: lasting a very short time
  6. Sempiternal: everlasting; eternal
  7. Euphonious: pleasing; sweet in sound
  8. Billet-doux: a love letter
  9. Pluviophile: any organism that thrives in conditions of heavy rainfall; one who loves rain, a rain-lover
  10. Redamancy: act of loving in return
  11. Lachesism: the desire to be struck by disaster; to survive a plane crash, or to lose everything in a fire
  12. Rubatosis: the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat
  13. Nodus Tollens: the realization that the plot of your life doesn’t make sense to you anymore
  14. Opia: the ambiguous intensity of looking someone in the eye, which can feel simultaneously invasive and vulnerable
  15. Monachopsis: the subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place
  16. Énouement: the bittersweetness of having arrived in the future, seeing how things turn out, but not being able to tell your past self
  17. Skulduggery: devious behavior
  18. Tatterdemalion: raggedly dressed person; looking disreputable or decayed
  19. Athazagoraphobia: the feeling of being forgotten, ignored, or replaced
  20. Oblivion: the state of being completely forgotten or unknown; connotes feelings of isolation and aloofness, which lead to the annihilation or extinction of the self metaphorically
  21. Abditory:  a hiding, safe place to disappear 
  22. Hiraeth: the homesickness for a home you can never return to; a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past
  23. Fernweh: the ache for distant places; the craving for travel
  24. Sonder: the realization that each passerby has a life as vivid and complex as your own
  25. Kenopsia: the eerie, forlorn atmosphere of a place that is usually bustling with people but is now abandoned and quiet
  26. Kuebiko: a state of exhaustion inspired by acts of senseless violence
  27. Quiddity: the essence or inherent nature of a person or thing / an eccentricity; an odd feature / a trifle; a nicety or quibble
  28. Wayfarer: a traveler, especially on foot
  29. Nepenthe: a medicine for sorrow; a place, person or thing, which can aid in forgetting your pain and suffering
  30. Gloaming: defined as twilight and dusk; the day’s end, the glittery, transient echo when time and nature meet
  31. Eunoia: literally meaning “beautiful thinking” / FREE SPACE

We all know there was probably a betting pool between campers on when Percy and Annabeth would kiss, right? So August 18 happens and some people win and some other loose money and life goes on and then Percy and Annabeth found out about it and Annabeth just casually says “You guys know that wasn’t our first kiss, right?” and all goes to hell with the older campers who were part of the betting.

Neil and Andrew being constantly hyperaware of each other is such a beautiful thing so here’s some headcanons about that:

  • Like obviously these boys spend 90% of their time staring at each other so hard they forget that anything else is happening
  • But the other 10% of the time they spend Not Staring at each other while still managing to keep track of everything the other is doing
  • (Neil will go off to spend time with Matt or Dan or Allison but his mind is still at least 40% occupied by Andrew’s hair in the sunlight)
  • (and for Andrew it’s plausible deniability)
  • (not because he needs to uphold his reputation or anything but because if he doesn’t stare he doesn’t have to face everything that Neil means to him)
  • (who is he kidding)
  • So Andrew will be sitting in a beanbag chair with his glasses on reading a book and when Neil comes in he’ll keep his eyes firmly on the page
  • but then Neil starts rifling through the room, putting on his shoes and jacket for a run, and he keeps digging through drawers and looking under papers and in all the coat pockets trying to find something
  • and Andrew just reaches over without looking up from his book and grabs Neil’s keyring from the countertop and throws it at him
  • Neil goes on his run but it takes him ten more minutes to leave because he keeps stopping to stare at Andrew and smile

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Your new roommates au is so so good! Do you think there's any chance of continuing? Love all your writing by the way :)

I can’t believe this thing that I wrote on the fly has over 500 notes right now??

I mean, I made a tag for it, so I guess it’s official. And something I gotta work on some more. Percy and Annabeth are ridiculous and I love them, so here’s that. I also love @insidiousmisandry​, who is the best.

And you. Thank you so much! :)

*

“Hey, have you seen my–?”

Percy stops, hands up, in the doorway of Annabeth’s dimly lit room, as if the motion might pull his words back into his mouth. She’s lying on her stomach on the floor, surrounded by notebooks and pens and flashcards, nearly face-down in her textbook. Her hair is pulled into a half-hearted braid, and her nose is pink, and there’s a scattering of used, balled-up tissues tossed toward the trashcan next to her desk.

She’s wearing the hoodie he’d been searching the apartment for–his hoodie, soft and blue, the one he’d gotten his freshman year and has worn to every swim practice since. She’s got the sleeves pulled up over her fists, one of them tucked close to her face, and she looks–

He filters through his adjectives for a moment, knowing that she’d hate the word cute, and especially vulnerable, and decides upon the most objective of the bunch, which is, easily, sick.

Carefully, he steps around her messily-ordered chaos of graph paper and kneels next to her, rests a hand on her back. He rubs his thumb over the line of her shoulder blade. “Annabeth? Hey, wake up. Annabeth.”

She frowns in her sleep. Blinks awake. Focuses, first, on the twist of the cloth between her fingers, and then the blur of words beneath her head, and then Percy, looming above her. She blinks again, and he thinks she almost smiles before her eyes start watering.

A smile–that, he’d almost be prepared for. She’s smiled at him before, maybe a handful of times, each one more meaningful and memorable than the last. A smile at a stupid joke he’d made, or something he’d done around the apartment, or leaving her a container of fudge his mother had mailed them. But crying? That first tear has something awful clenching in his heart, and he gives in to the urge to touch her, to cup the back of her head, to reach for her wrist.

“Hey,” he says. “You okay?”

Her face crumples. “I don’t feel good.”

“Okay,” he says, and helps her sit up. “Here, c’mon.”

She nestles herself immediately into his chest, and it takes him a long minute to actively kick-start his brain and force himself to rearrange her into a position that makes it possible to lift her. (Has she ever leaned into him like this? Has she ever touched him in a way that wasn’t a punch, or a kick, or one terribly executed noogie?) He hefts her up and over to her bed, kind of shuffles her between her sheets, gets her blankets situated. He tugs his hood up and over her head. She hums, pleased, and gropes blindly for his hand.

“One sec,” he tells her. He fishes in his pocket for his phone, and leans a little easier against her headboard once he has it in hand. Annabeth pulls herself up and makes herself comfortable, her head against his chest, her arm slung over his waist, and he supposes that’s that. Especially when he calls his team captain and tells him that he won’t be making it to practice tonight, so sorry, he’s come down with something, and yes, absolutely he’ll be back in the pool in a day or two to make up the laps he’s missed. Yep. Sure. Okay, goodnight.

And then he’s looking down at his roommate, who is sleeping soundly against his chest, her nose a little crusty, her face a little damp. He’s not sure she’ll remember this in the morning, but even so–he presses a kiss to her forehead and holds her a little closer, just for good measure.

Aftermath

Title: Aftermath
Characters: Hanji Zoe x Levi
Genre: Humor / Angst
Rating: T

@levihanweek​ Day 2: Nightmare

Levi’s Nightmare: Having a heart-to-heart with Pastor Nick.


“Are you worried about your wife?”

The question shocked him out of his musings.

Levi looked up, “My what?”

But the pastor was already speaking, “You’re obviously beside yourself with stress – and it’s understandable. Not knowing if your wife has survived-”

Levi cut him off, “My what?”

The pastor hesitated, apparently realizing he’d made some mistake, but misunderstanding precisely what it was. “Your…wife? The woman we traveled with before? She’s ah – forceful. You two uh – have the same, er – strident personality. When we first met, she dangled me off the wall.”

Keep reading

ari.

the cicadas are singing / the cicadas are dying
in droves. they are droning graveyard hymns
so relentlessly i have to wonder:
is it their funeral or mine?
maybe i am the one being buried
here under the summer heat.
maybe i should be mourning too.

dear dante, do you wear shoes in chicago?
what i mean is: will you still be the same
as i remembered? and do i want you
to be the same? you can’t answer
these questions; i’m just wondering, i guess.
just wishing something could be different
even though i don’t know what.

dante.

dear ari, chicago is too full of shoes;
not enough birds / not enough dreams.
i miss swimming, and i miss you—
can i say this, at least? i almost miss
el paso, but the memories of home
are starting to blur. everything hazy
except you’re always in sharp focus.
you can’t answer but i’m also wondering:
if i held your hand, could we make it
through all these faded june afternoons?

ari.

(maybe. i don’t know. i don’t know—)

dante.

if we carried hope into a thunderstorm
could we finally taste the rain?

boys like us || a. cho

The amount of fire in my bones
right now is enough to make a
volcano blush. I hope you know
that I never meant to burn you,
only create islands for you to
rest on when I finally cooled
off, when you tired of swimming.
—  resting place // Haley Hendrick