i mean look at his eyes!

anonymous asked:

Hey! I had an idea, could you write something where Jughead isn't sleeping well (looks more tired than normal) and Betty notices so she takes him somewhere quiet like to her house or to the blue and gold office and he falls asleep in her lap while she's playing with his hair? Or something cute and fluffy like that - I love your fics so much they always brighten my day :)

That’s cute! I’ll give it a go, I mean we’ve all noticed how much more prominent Jugheads bags have been getting

She propped her chin up in her hand, leaning her elbow on the cool metal of the cafeteria table, she didn’t mean to stare, her mother had always told her it was rude but this was her kinda/ sorta boyfriend, she figured she had a pass. Jughead looked so tired, the dark purple bags under his eyes, the way he was almost always yawning, and now the way his eyes were drooping slowly, Betty couldn’t look away.
She knew what he was going through, she knew the way it kept him up at night, worrying about his father, worrying about his mother, his sister, sometimes even about herself, it made her heart hurt to see how all of this emotional baggage was eating away at the boy who had snuck his way into her heart.

Suddenly cloudy blue connected with her own piercing green and his eyes were looking directly into her prying ones, raising an eyebrow and smiling lazily. Jugheads lack of sleep was a fairly popular conversation between the pair, Betty was worried and she brought that up more than not.

“You need to sleep Jughead, just rest.” She would beg, as they lay together on his blowup mattress situated on Archie’s floor. He simply shook his head, the bed wasn’t comfortable and he claimed he felt on edge in Archie’s room, almost like he was invading on someone’s privacy, not to say he wasn’t grateful, of course he was, this just wasn’t… it wasn’t a great space for him.

Back to her current scenario, Betty raised a teasing eyebrow at his sleepy face and stuck her tongue out, making the beanie wearing boy chuckle and relax his shoulders, she loved that she could make him feel at ease, make him comfortable, that’s why the plan she had been cooking up all month was probably one of her best. She would bring it up to him after the final bell.

Lunch went by quickly and they all headed off to their final two classes, Jughead dropping a secret kiss to her forehead before strolling off. When the final bell rang, signaling the end of the day, Betty skipped up to Jughead in the hallway and took his hand in hers, looking up at him with excited eyes as he smiled down at her, gently resting a palm to her cheek

“What’s got you so excited Bets?” He asked with a snort as she tugged him down the hallway.

Betty stopped in front of the gym and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Pack a bag for two days and meet me in front of my house today, I should be done with cheerleading around 5? Meet me then?” She asked without really leaving much of an option as she practically sprinted into the gym, leaving him nodding and confused as he headed to Archie’s.

5 o clock came fast and jughead found himself, duffel bag swung over his shoulder, standing on Betty’s front porch while she walked up her sidewalk and leaped beside him, placing a finger up as he went to ask a question. Dramatically opening the door, she walked in before him, ushering him inside as he stared at her questioningly

“Welcome to your new home for the weekend, come on I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping!” She giggled at his confused expression as she pulled him up the stairs and into her bedroom
“I tell ya best beds in all of Riverdale” she tugged him down to her plush, soft mattress filled with warm blankets and pillows, he practically melted into it. He had always loved Betty’s bed, but with Alice around he was never not on edge.

“Bets…” he explained slowly “this is your bed, in your home.” He smiled at her with a roll of his eyes.

Betty shook her head “no this weekend, it’s our bed, and our home.” She explained back, leaning against her bed frame “mom went away for the weekend with Polly she won’t be back until late Monday night, therefore we have the whole place to ourselves! You need a good nights rest Jughead, you need an actual bed with an actual pillow, those living arrangements are killing you.” She said softly, grabbing his hand as he looked deep into her eyes “let me help you. Just this once, let me take care of you. Please” she whispered.

Jughead loved Betty Cooper, she was the best thing to ever happen to him and if he didn’t know it then, he most definitely knew it now. The way she cared for him, the way she saw things no one else did, it never failed to amaze him. Nodding slowly, not trusting his voice too overcome with emotion, he just let her wrap him up in her arms and fall into the soft mattress.
They stayed like that for a few minutes before he felt her remove his hat and run her fingers through his hair, he was out before he even had the chance to say her name.

On Monday morning, as the pair walked into school together, the whole school was in talks about how good Jughead jones looked. A great nights rest and a girlfriend who loved to cook for her boyfriend could do wonders for an emotionally damaged teen. And so when Archie saw Jughead climbing Fred Andrews ladder into Betty Coopers room atleast twice a week, he never said a word, grateful for the change in his best friend. It was the Betty Cooper effect, and you couldn’t buy that for all the money in the world.

You’re Happier Aren’t You?

Characters: Steve x Reader.

Summary: Steve Rogers is in love, actually when he really thinks about it he has been for some time but when you’re Captain America what is the best way to protect the person who means the most to you?

Word Count:  1830 words

Prompt: Ed Sheeran Happier

A/N: This is my entry for @amarvelouswritings 700 followers writing challenge.  I hope you like it sweetie xxx

Walking down 29th and Park with his baseball cap pulled down and his collar pulled up against the wind Steve was busy trying to clear his head when something made him stop.  It was possible that he had seen you out of the corner of his eye, perhaps he had caught the sound of your laughter on the breeze, whatever it was he found himself looking across the street and felt his heart stop.  It had been a month since he had last seen you and the memory of that last meeting had haunted him ever since.  His whole body tensed as he saw your arm linked with the tall, dark, handsome man as he leaned into say something and your face broke into such a bright smile it was if the grey day just melted away and when you laughed Steve’s heart ached.  He used to make you laugh but as he watched you he noticed that you looked happy, truly happy, and it was as if a knife was being twisted in his gut.  That smile that he had always felt was reserved for him was now being levelled at someone else and if he was being honest your smile was wider than he had ever seen.  Steve remained frozen, watching you as your mystery man opened the door of the bar for you and followed you in.  He didn’t even notice that it had started to rain as the people around him picked up their pace to get to their various destinations as if nothing had happened, totally oblivious to the man whose heart had just shattered into a million pieces.

Keep reading

wickedsquared  asked:

Wait so anyone who shows you appreciation is a lovely then does that mean Anti is a lovely too? Does that make you a raisin? (I'm only half joking Dark, please don't be upet with me)

“I highly doubt we appreciate each other.”

He responded in an indubious manner. His eyes remained fixated upon them, like a challenger facing their opponent, daring them to look away from the steely grip of his stare.

“If anything, we are tolerant of the other’s existence. The only reason Anti is not dead is because I cannot kill him. The only reason I am not dead is because Anti is weak with emotions he doesn’t deserve to have. So no, I am far from being his raisin, and I would not even dream of allowing Anti to be a lovely of mine. Be clear to remember that.”


White Collar!Gafou au:

Gaston, a renowned con artist, forger, and thief, is captured after a three-year game of cat and mouse with the FBI, the man hunt led by Special Agent LeFou of the White Collar division. 

Upon capture, Gaston, ever the charmer, has hinted that he may possibly know how the FBI could apprehend the person responsible for the recent string of robberies from art museums around the city, specifically paintings from French artists.

It wasn’t me, he swore.
And why should I believe you?, LeFou countered. Considering your penchant for paintings like the Matisse or the Gustave?
Gaston looked genuinely affronted. LeFou, I’m wounded! I thought you’d know that I have more respect for Monet than any other art aficionado–
LeFou smirked, You mean thief.
Alleged, Gaston smirked right back, eyes gleaming.

Regardless of the nickname he goes by now, a name to spite his asshole friends from Quantico, LeFou was no fool. There was no way he would allow himself to be conned by Gaston, no matter how dashing he secretly thought he was [LeFou graduated top of his class, so he wasn’t an idiot… But he also did have eyes, so there’s that].

But reluctantly he realized that the information that Gaston gave him was indeed helpful… In fact it gave them a lead and, because of Gaston’s expertise, they now found a possible suspect.

It took a couple of days, but once they finally caught the thief and acquired the missing Monet, LeFou had to admit that maybe there was something worthwhile in having Gaston as a consultant. 

So with a deal for a newly freed Gaston [baring the fact that he has a shiny ankle bracelet with a limited two mile radius] to help LeFou apprehend dangerous white collar criminals with the FBI as part of his sentence, thus the duo begin their unconventional relationship. 

So what was it?, Gaston later inquires.
What was what?, LeFou asked, distracted by their current case file.
My nickname. C’mon, LeFou, I’ve worked with you all long enough to know that every case gets a nickname. Renaldo was Monet before you ID’d him. This case we’re working on? The Watchtower. What was mine?
LeFou scratched the back of his head, one of his tells that Gaston had quickly picked up on in their early days of working together. I… don’t recall.
Really?, Gaston quirks a brow, leaning in to study the agent until he sat back and feigned nonchalance. Oh. That’s too bad. The sooner we move on, the sooner–
LeFou sighed. That was one of the things he secretly admired about the man before him; when Gaston sets his mind onto something, he’s persisted until he got his way. It was both an admirable and an annoying trait.
Reluctantly, James Bonds.
Gaston blinked. What?
Don’t make me repeat it, LeFou glared.
With a brilliant smile, So because of my forged bonds, you nicknamed me–
Are you done?, LeFou sighed before he waved at the file folder in his hand, Because I can think of better things for you to do.
Okay, okay, Gaston held his hand up in defeat. He got up from his chair across from LeFou’s. Let me go grab us some drinks then. How do you take yours, LeFou? With a glint in his eyes, he added, Shaken or stirred?
Get out.

note: blame the fact that I’ve been marathoning White Collar lately and thus this was born.

So, ever since I started playing Mystic Messenger, the name of Rika’s alternate organization just struck me as completely random. Who names an organization (specifically one that is similar to a religious cult and who goal is seeking ultimate enlightenment) Mint Eye? The longer I thought about it, the more it seemed entirely out of place.

But then a thought struck me and suddenly it all fell into place. V’s eyes (and I guess his hair too) are quite similar to the color seen on the Mint Eye logo. 

Given Rika’s relationship with V, followed by their falling out, it made sense to me that she would name her organization after him in some way. He was a huge part of her life, and nothing could change that. He wanted her to be happy more than anything else. I feel like V is the type of person that expresses a lot of emotion in his eyes, and Rika damaged those eyes. 

I mean maybe I’m just looking way too far into this, but it makes sense to me, especially given how random the name seemed beforehand. Although I’m still trying to figure out where Magenta would play into all this…

Anyways, this is just my theory, and it now has me drowning in a tsunami of feels. Excuse me while I go cry over this game and this pairing for the 50th time.

the crow upon the sea 7/?
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

The third time he suffers from such a dream, Yuuri wakes to a hand shaking his shoulder, and he turns over to find Yurio standing beside his bed, hair disheveled, his green eyes wide in the dim light. Makkachin sits up from her spot beside Yuuri and puts a paw on Yurio’s arm.

“I can’t sleep,” Yurio says in a rush, and to Yuuri, he looks miserable. “I keep thinking – what if he needs help? What if he gets caught, what if he doesn’t – doesn’t –” He cuts himself off, but Yuuri understands his meaning. The same fears have been plaguing him ever since Viktor left. Wordlessly, Yuuri scoots over and pats the mattress, until Yurio gets the hint. The look Yurio gives him is amusing in hindsight, but Yuuri only smiles at him. It strikes him now, how young Yurio really is, though he hides it behind a veneer of arrogance.

“Hand me my laptop,” Yuuri says after a moment, pushing his pillow back. “Let’s watch some anime.”

you should know that @moonbelowsea yelled a lot at me for this chapter, so.

just so you know

anonymous asked:

/His eyes are amazing!/What is this, Rachel, what is this? I've seen gifs of this, but to hear it in Dyl's voice is completely devastating. The depth of emotion, OMG, the butterflies in my stomach! So seriously, NEVER, NOT ONCE, NEVER EVER HOBRIEN? Pffttt...

Hobrien is so real, my friends. I don’t see how anyone could look at them interacting, see the way they look at each other, listen to the way they talk about each other, and not believe that they were completely in love.

I mean…

(there’s so much more evidence, but that’s what immediately came to mind.)

nellietrelawney  asked:

This isn't exactly random, just my rare pair: Sybill x Regulus, Marauders Era :)

“Let me check again.” Sybill said and held her hand out. 

Regulus sighed and laid his hand in hers, palm up. She bent low over it and ran her long fingers gentle over the lines. As she studied his palm, he studied her face. Her wild curls were held back by a scarf she had tied like a headband and her long lashes hid her dark green eyes from his view. 

“I think I see a new line, just here. I’m sure that means something has changed.” 

“Sybill.” he called her name softly

“Maybe if we consult your chart again-” 

“Sybill.” He cut her off, his voice firmer. His hand was still cradled in hers, she refused to meet his eyes. “Sybill, love, look at me.” 

She took a deep breath and met his tender gaze. Tears clung to her eyelashes, making them clump together and the red in her eyes made the green all the brighter. “We can change it.” her voice trembled. 

Regulus cupped her cheek and she leaned into the touch. He didn’t say ‘Of course we can’ and he didn’t say ‘I’ll never leave you.’ and he didn’t say ‘I’ll make it out of this alive.’  Instead, he looked deep into the eyes of the woman he loved and said, “Marry me.” 

tea time for @erurink. prompt: video games.

“i don’t…”

“no, you gotta press this button.” eld leans over into erwin’s lap, his little fingers pressing down on top of erwin’s.

“oh. oh!” erwin looks over at levi, a smile bright on his face. “it makes my guy jump!”

levi rolls his eyes, looks down at gunther and says quietly, “we’re goin’ to destroy them.”

“yup.” gunther fidgets in his seat on the floor–a little nest of decorative pillows that levi had bought for the house. his brother eld sits on the other side of erwin, and they’re all huddled in front of the tv, their backs pressed against the coffee table.

petra and oruo were in desperate need of a date night. petra asked levi if he could watch the kids, a request he fought against initially. he said he had no idea how to take care of a bunch of brats. without saying it, he implied didn’t think he was mentally equipped, couldn’t handle human lives within his hands like he had in the past. not again. not with kids. but she insisted again, and he said he would if it was at erwin’s house. that way there would be two of them to watch over the kids, where he didn’t have to shoulder all the responsibility when he barely trusted himself with erwin on his own. she agreed immediately, sent them packing a week later with their wiiu, several controllers, sleeping bags, pillows, and a laundry list of to-dos before bedtime. in the end, erwin and levi ended up being the “cool uncles”. ten pudding cups later and two hours past bedtime, the kids were still wired enough to demand rematches in smash.

erwin groans. “wait… where did my guy go?”

“stop calling them ‘your guy’. christ, what are you, fifty?”


“you’re old!” eld chimes up at erwin.

levi can’t catch it before lets out a hoot. “he’s right!”

“you all might as well be beating me in person with this… this…” erwin trails, shakes his controller in frustration as he tries to get peach to respond to his movements, “this dang thing.”

eld leans in his seat, “boom!” he kicks levi’s pit off the screen with his link.

“aw crap.” levi mutters.

“again!?” erwin cries, losing his last peach to a well placed upward blast from gunther’s megaman. “wait why am i not coming back?”

“you’re outta lives, old man.” levi says behind an amused grin.


“no!!!” levi drops his controller as eld knocks out his last guy. “such garbage. you guys cheat!”

eld and gunther are still three lives left, too busy with their brotherly rivalry to pay attention to the fake agitation from their adult peers. levi looks at erwin, stares at him for a long time with a smile on a face that he doesn’t know he has. erwin is watching the screening, studying it as if he actually has an intention of understanding it, at getting good at it. his lips seal together into a smile as he turns his head, looks at levi, and something in levi’s chest catches. 

those eyes. 

they had been looking at each other differently since that night in the spare room. erwin’s lips still felt heavy on his own, and he licks his lips as he finds himself wanting them again, but is unsure if erwin wants the same.

“care to help me clean up a little?” erwin says, quietly.

levi nods. he picks up the trash on the coffee table as erwin grabs the used glasses. eld and gunther remain on their pillows, playing around each other like a chess match in silent concentration. the adults walk into the kitchen and deposit their items into the appropriate containers. erwin grabs levi by the elbow, looks him in the eyes in an attempt to ask for silent permission. he waits until levi nods, and they kiss with a smile on their lips that reminds them all too much of high school.

Dirty Tapes (Jopper, not smut)

Here’s that fluff I was teasing. @obeydontstray @jennydehavilland @deniblogginstuff

“Hey, Chief, why don’t we ever get to go to your house?” Will Byers asked before biting into a slice of pepperoni pizza. Joyce scoffed from across the table. Jim shot a glare in her direction, Will looked confused, Jonathan just shook his head. “What?”

“The Chief has a bachelor pad,” Jonathan explained patiently, covering his mouth with one hand to block the sight of food being chewed.

“Okay? That sounds awesome! Why don’t we ever get to go?”

Joyce folded her arms over her chest and leaned back in her chair, eyes to the ceiling, an amused smirk on her face. “What Jonathan means is that it’s not exactly kid-friendly, baby.”

“Hey! I have a VCR.”

Will’s ears perked at Jim’s defense. “What?! Mom, we don’t have one.”

Joyce sighed and rested her cheek against one hand, elbow resting on the table. Her brown eyes had a touch of melancholy. “I know. Your dad got that in the divorce.”

“Yeah, I know. You wouldn’t give him any of the movies, so we have all these tapes and no VCR. Chief, can we come over and watch tapes?”

Brown eyes met blue as Joyce and Jim both tried to gauge the other's’ feelings on the subject. Joyce had never been to trailer in their six months of semi-serious dating. Jim always just naturally ended up joining her in her own bedroom after dates and long days of helping out around the yard and inside of the house.  Joyce always regarded the trailer as his escape, the place he disappeared to when he was tired of his drab girlfriend and her two rowdy boys. It existed in the abstract.

“His place is probably a dump,” Jonathan speculated. Joyce leaned over and gave her oldest a quick swat on the arm.  


“It is a little rough-going over there, Kid,” Jim confessed.

Will shrugged. “Mom left the clean laundry on the couch, and you’re still here.”

“Your mom works hard. Don’t insult the way she keeps house. You could fold laundry, you know,” Jim scolded, garnering one surprised look (Joyce), one irritated look (Jonathan) and one remorseful look (Will).

“Yeah, I guess. Can we come over, though?”

Jim steepled his fingers and pressed them to his lips, smirking as he studied Joyce’s expectant face. “I just got Beverly Hills Cop, have you seen it?”

Will straightened up in his seat with a grin. “No! Mom, please, please, please. Dad said he was going to take us to see that when it was in theaters and he never did and all my friends saw it and–”

“Is that an invitation, Hop?” Joyce inquired with a tilt of her head, cutting off her ecstatic child.

Jim leaned forward. “Yeah, I suppose it is. I’ll even cook.”

“I can always bring a frozen pizza.”

“I said I’ll cook, Joyce.”

“I suppose that will be fine.”


Jim could cook as long the recipe wasn’t terribly complex. Like his father before him, he was a bit of a grillmaster. The Byers family would have ribeye from the grill, and that was that. It only took him two hours to clean his ancient grill, cleansing it from the clinging refuse of Game Days Past. Satisfied that he wouldn’t give Joyce or her boys food poisoning, he set to the task of cleaning his house.

Beer cans were thrown into recycling, ashtrays cleaned, bathroom and kitchen scrubbed, windows washed, dirty magazines thrown and suspect video tapes were either returned to the video store or placed in a box under the bed. He even fashioned a makeshift slip cover for his couch out of two patchwork quilts. They wouldn’t even notice the duct tape holding the thing together. He really needed to buy new furniture.

Movie Day arrived, and Jim gave the three Byers the grand tour, grinning in his clean shirt and jeans as Joyce gaped at the immaculate picture he presented. On some level, he knew she was expecting a stale-beer-and-cigarette odor, streaks, stains and genuine disrepair, and the perceived lack of faith stung. It was nice to be able to prove her wrong.

Even Jonathan, ever critical of Jim and his new role in Joyce’s life, smiled as took the first bite of dinner. He said nothing, but his approval was evident and shining in his sharp eyes. Will was more effusive, stopping short of calling it the best meal he had ever had in his life. Joyce, never one to show public affection, took Jim’s hand under the table and pulled it to cover her knee before giving it an affectionate squeeze. He blushed and returned the gesture.

Dishes cleared, Will suddenly asked where the tape was. “On the coffee table, kid. I’ll set it up–” The phone rang. “Shit…”

“It could be work,” Joyce remarked as she headed towards the couch. Jonathan and Will settled on the floor in front of the coffee table and Will slid the tape over into his grasp to examine the case.

“Yeah.” Jim answered after three rings.

(Hey Jim, this is Emily from 5-A video.)

“Oh hey! Did I forget to bring anything back?”

There was an awkward pause, pregnant with tension. Jim vaguely thought that it might have something to do with the fact that he and Emily had once…but no that had been ages ago, there was no way she was still sore about that whole mess. (Actually, you did.)

“I’ll set it up, Chief! I still remember how,” Will chirped. Jim waved a hand at the boy and watched through his peripherals as he stood, tape in hand, eager smile on his face. Always eager to help. Goddamn good kid.

“Uh-huh. What is it? I have guests over but if you let me know, I can take a look around the house. Maybe we could waive the late-fee?”

( I would check your machine. You brought the case back, but it was empty. Umm. It’s from the black book.)

“Oh, there was already a tape inside!” Will’s discovery made Jim’s blood run cold. He had done so well up until this point and… “Hey, Mom, I don’t think I’ve ever heard of this one.”

Jim hung up the phone and spun towards the trio; they were gathered near the machine, and Jonathan was smothering almost-raucous laughter while Joyce blanched and Will looked lost. “Is Debbie Does Dallas any good, Chief?”

Jim stumbled towards Will, snatching the tape from the boy’s hands. “Uhhh… that’s a question for your older brother.” He caught Joyce’s gaze and tried his dead-level best to communicate how very, very, VERY fucking sorry he was. Mercifully, she smiled.

“Let’s just watch the movie, okay?” Joyce suggested in a thin voice. She put a hand on top of Will’s head and steered him towards his seat near the coffee table. “You are so nosy.” She settled onto the couch and didn’t object when Jim sat down next to her. She even snuggled against his side and rested her head on his chest when his arm went over her shoulders. She still liked him. He was a dog and a cad and a pervert, and she still liked him.

Two hours later, as she was herding her sleepy boys through the front door she paused and turned to him. Even in the obscuring darkness of the night, he could see that her face was burning red. “Yes?” he asked before she stood on her tiptoes and brushed her lips against his.

“I suppose I wouldn’t mind coming back and having Movie Night. Alone.”

He beamed. “Okay?”

She gave him a pointed look, her eyebrows raising nearly to her hairline. “I mean, you know. With…” she leaned forward. “Different m-movies.” After she said it her gaze flew to the floorboards of his porch and her complexion deepened. He took brought his hands up to rest on her wrists, pulling her own hands away from her mortified face.

“You bet,” he whispered with a wink.


Please see the press release for 6x19 here

So before I start anything else, this is a Pro-Rumple (Pro-Rumbelle) post.

Given the press release, my head canon for Savior Rumple is just getting stronger and stronger by the minute. Yes the prophecy can be the Dark One and all that but it can be, as many of us believe, also a prophecy about him being the last Dark One, a Savior that will defeat the Dark One Curse once and for all! Yeah Savior Rumple boom!

And the fact that it looks like he’s holding the wand fragment in the promo (but yes that can be just my eyes deceiving me and it’s just his dagger).

My “ delimna ” (yeah OUAT peeps not letting you off that easily) is the name of the BF. I mean Fiona? Not only does it now make me imagine a Shrek and Peter Pan crossover but if you’ve read @toseehowthestoryends ‘s Ruins, you’ll understand why. Maybe the BF was the leader of the fairies before Blue but this just confirms the the show writers must get some of their ideas from their very creative and under appreciated fans.


im just imagining this little shit running around the streets of barcelona in the middle of the night trying to cobble a costume together while he lets beka handle the music

he bursts into chris’s hotel room at 3 like “give me one of your sexy tank tops”

& chris is 75% asleep and doesn’t register that none of his clothes are appropriate for a 15 year old. he gestures at his wardrobe and as yurio leaves he’s like. “im 2 sizes bigger than you my tanks will fall off”

yurio looks him dead in the eye. “good.”

yurio takes pleasure in waking JJ up at 5 am and asking for his tackiest piece of jewelry.

“here’s this cross necklace that i got at a flea market for 2 bucks”

yurio snatches it out of his hands. “im going to kick your ass today shithead”

JJ wonders if yurio understands the meaning of an exhibition skate.

the hardest part is the jacket bc yurio’s outfit just isn’t right but there’s no one here that’s actually his size and yurio hasn’t slept in 24 hours.

he’s on his 5th red bull.

when suddenly, like a bolt from the blue, he sees someone outside the rink wearing the gaudiest purple leather jacket he’s ever seen. it’s perfect.

“you! how much for your jacket!”

the man is confused bc he doesn’t speak english and also the men’s GPF gold medalist is screaming at him. he’s 80% sure these are his last moments on earth.

jacket“ yurio says like that will make the man understand.

through a complex game of charades, yurio manages to communicate that he wants the jacket. the man happily hands it over bc holy shit it’s the ice tiger of russia.

yurio throws the guy 30,000 rubles.

yurio shows up right before his EX running on 15 red bulls with under eye circles darker than his soul.

“you look like you’ve been shoved through a meat grinder” mila says

“good” yurio replies.

no amount of foundation will help. lilia is panicking, barcelona is falling. yurio’s eyes still look like they can see through time.

georgi kicks in the door. “i got this”

it’s 5 minutes to show time and yuuri and viktor come to see him off. they’re still in their own EX costumes.

“wow! so chic!” viktor says before getting distracted by a dog in the stands. (”it’s in a purse yuuri, 10/10 would doggo again“)

“davai!” yuuri says.

yuuri has a pair of sunglasses clipped to his shirt. yurio points at them. “are those viktor’s”


they’re gucci and worth more than nikolai plisetsky’s car.

yurio snatches them and skates off before viktor comes back.

beka is at the edge of the rink dressed in all black. he flashes yurio a thumbs up.

“wow those sunglasses look just like mine!”

Some Strings Attached

Ugh so there was a post going around that I’ve now long since misplaced but it was like “I just saw you go upstairs with someone else and I know we’re only fuck buddies but I’m gonna go punch them in the face” and I was HERE FOR IT. If somebody remembers the post, link me. In the meantime, have some Sterek getting together fluff.

“Just tell Derek you want to date him,” Scott says, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world.

Stiles bugs his eyes and flails his hands in wordless frustration, because the correct response to this patently ludicrous advice eludes him. He had come for sympathy, not pie-in-the-sky delusions. “Scott. Bro,” he finally gasps. “How could you even suggest that in good faith? No way! Bad plan!” He slashes his arms in a demonstrative X. “The only reason we’re even hooking up is that I made it super clear I was down to fuck, no strings attached! I’m not ruining a good thing by announcing to Derek Hale that I’m 85% in love with him.”

“Why?” Scott genuinely seems confused, the sweet summer child. After falling into a happy triad with Allison and Isaac after their first semester at UCLA, he doesn’t really understand the definition of “unrequited.”

Stiles turns his attention to a hanging thread on his t-shirt, sourly tugging it loose. “He’s out of my league. I mean, with the baseball, and the smarts, and the sarcasm, and those eyes…” he breaks off with a sigh. The last thing he needs to do is remind himself of how gone he is on Derek. “Just, he’s popular. Dictionary definition of too cool for school. And the three people he actually deigns to hang out with here are all just as cool and good looking as he is. Do I need to remind you I’m not? I’m a gawky, nerdy Sophomore. I’m lucky to even be his fuck-buddy.”

Scott makes a face, incredulous. “I dunno, he must like you well enough if he’s still sleeping with you after all this time. What’s it been, six months? And you guys hang out, too, you’re always telling me about how easy it is to chat with him after you bone. So it’s not just sex.”

Stiles grimaces. “Yeah, but it’s not…”

“… a real relationship,” Derek says into the phone, hearing full well the heavy dejection in his voice. So sue him; the admission is more than a little depressing. “He just wants to be fuck buddies.”

“How do you know?” Laura asks reasonably. “Maybe this Stiles person would be interested in dating you, too. No offence, but you’re not great at reading people. I mean, he’s interested in chilling with you even after you hook up, and clearly he enjoys the physical aspect. Did he actually ever say he wasn’t looking for more?”

Derek heaves a sigh, rolling his eyes even though she can’t see over the phone. “Yep. About two minutes after the first time we slept together he said, ‘no strings attached, obviously.’ So, you know, pretty safe bet that it’s no strings attached.”

“Oh,” Laura says. For once she doesn’t have a snappy comeback.

“Oh,” Derek agrees. Dejectedly.

She gives him a sympathetic little hum, and then asks, “and he’ll definitely be at the sorority barbecue?”

“Yeah.” Stiles and his broad shoulders and his long fingers are definitely going to be at the party.

“Maybe you shouldn’t go,” his sister says softly. “If you really like him, and he’s just looking to get laid…”

Derek groans. Not go, and give up a chance to hook up with Stiles? Smart, maybe, but not something he’s capable of doing.

The problem is, he’s liked Stiles forever. Or at least since he first saw him, laughing uproariously and running around with his friends with an actually broom between his legs, playing “Quidditch.” Derek would have been way too embarrassed to do something like that on the front lawn, but Stiles made it seem like the most effortlessly awesome thing a person could get up to.

No, compared to Stiles, Derek is practically a social recluse, an awkward jock with only about three people who he gets along with at all. Stiles definitely doesn’t want to get saddled with a boyfriend like him. He’s lucky they’re even hooking up after all this time.

“Derek, I mean it,” Laura says. “Look out for yourself for once.”

“I know, I know,” Derek grumbles. “But it’s not my fault he’s…”

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FINALLY! It is done! To be honest, this might have been my most time consuming project as of now! It was so much fun, though! I’m a little late to this - started this around PAX when the Anti appearance was a thing. 

I know that Jack said these two will most likely never meet for Anti related reasons, but I mean, a drawn universe is alright, right? rIGHT?

Anyway! I based the Anti in this one on the one I drew a few months back, which is why he’s now missing his eye. I tried something new with Sam, drew Dark for the first time in my life (I’m very sorry) and a little Tiny Box Grim being angry on his shoulder! If you look closely, you’ll be able to see that lil’ rectangular thingy in Anti’s pocket. A phone with Jack trapped inside?? I don’t know. I thought it would be a neat idea if he was able to switch places with Jack as long as he has a ‘container’ to put his consciousness in, which would be an electronic device - a phone. Wee. :D

But trust me I can draw nice things, too. Like happy and all. I’m just incredibly obsessed with both of these characters because they honestly have a lot of potential! Gosh, I want to edit and draw so much more. gNARF.

But’cha! I wanted to thank Jack and Mark for inspiring me so much and their amazing, heartwarming communities for being so welcoming and nice to me. I’m having the time of my life in relation to motivation at the moment and I want to use that energy for good!

With that being said; I’m having two more weeks before my finals which means I have lots of time to create things! Let’s go! :D 


@therealjacksepticeye @markiplier 

A Lesson in Love (Confessions)

Summary: (College!AU) In which you’re assigned to write a story about romance, a subject you know nothing about, and Bucky, a hopeless romantic, offers you his assistance.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3,178

A/N: The tag list for this story is officially CLOSED. Also, this is not the end of story.

“A Lesson in Love” Masterlist + Soundtrack

@avengerstories - The messages you sent me after editing this part let me know that I had successfully tugged on all of the right heartstrings, so thank you for that.

Originally posted by ditchthevillian

Whenever an uncomplicated task arises, people say it’s as easy to accomplish as breathing. The adage always made perfect sense to you whenever you heard it. Breathing is second nature. It can be done without having to think twice and, sometimes, it feels like certain tasks are the same way.

Today, that’s not the case. Standing here across from Bucky for the first time in weeks, you find that breathing is anything but easy. The air was knocked out of your lungs as soon as you stumbled upon the note he wrote on the canvas and you haven’t yet recovered. You have to keep reminding yourself to breathe, just breathe. But it’s hard. How are you supposed to remember to inhale and exhale in a moment like this?

“Are you going to say something?” You press, once the silence of the room becomes too unbearable. Your fingers curl tightly around the canvas as you wait for Bucky to speak. “Anything?”

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