i really really like hair flips

anonymous asked:

Top ten memes inspired by Viktor "Extra" Nikiforov? :D

Because I feel that Viktor would be just as meme-worthy, could you do a top 10 Viktor inspired meme post? Haha, probably including the variations of his “why not both?” comment!

Top 10 Memes inspired by Viktor Nikiforov? (because surely Yuuri isn’t the only ultime walking meme source, Viktor is as extra as him, even more)

Top ten Viktor Nikiforov memes? He’s so extra and then there was the doping scandal and him yelling at the reporter and the kiss at the end and how he looks at Yuuri ;-;

Oh man now I want a “top 10 memes inspired by viktor nikiforov” post! I bet no. 1 is “fall in love with a guy who hates your guts and then pine after him for five years …”

—————

You guys really wanted this one! Ok so…


Top Ten Viktor Nikiforov Memes:

10) ‘Nikiforov level pining’ is a commonly used phrase for the maximum amount of pining/being hopelessly in love that anyone can possibly be doing

9) In reference to the Yuuri Top Ten Memes, ‘creating your own Katsuki’ is also applicable to Viktor and is used as a cautionary tale to celebrities about why you should always be nice to your fans no matter what

8) Viktor ‘skating my feelings’ Nikiforov becomes a joke after everyone watches back his programs over the years and sees what a romantic dork he was. It becomes the figure skating equivalent of songwriters writing entire albums about their breakups, skating entire programs about your hopeless love life

7) In reference to the TMI Top Ten, Viktor saying ‘why pick one?’ in response to a trashy reporter asking him who tops and who bottoms in the relationship becomes a popular reaction gif along the lines of the one from Road to El Dorado ‘both is good’ and the little taco girl ‘why don’t we have both’

6) ‘Don’t do a Nikiforov’ is a line used when someone is involved in a rivalry/has someone who really hates them as a joke about not falling in love with someone who you’re supposed to be trying to beat

5) Once a reporter talked about Viktor’s grey hair and Viktor got really offended like ‘It’s s i l v e r  not grey’ and Yuuri was just like ‘it’s ok honey I love your grey hair’ and so ‘it’s silver not grey’ and Yuuri being casually savage became a running joke among Viktor’s fans

4) A screengrab of Viktor’s face when Yuuri did the quad flip in YOI became a really popular reaction picture

3) A running joke that Viktor only married Yuuri to get more medals for his trophy collection after he posted a picture on Instagram of their combined trophy cabinet and it was ridiculously big

2) Whenever anyone mentions loving Yuuri the automatic response from fans is ‘no-one will ever love Yuuri as much as Viktor’ or ‘but viktor loves him more’ and variations thereupon as a joke reference to the  fact that Viktor is pretty much the no.1 Yuuri fan and won’t let anyone forget it

1) To match Yuuri’s CAH one, Viktor also has a card dedicated to him in Cards Against Humanity. His one is a black card that reads ‘This time, Viktor Nikiforov has spent five years pining after_______’. You can imagine some of the combinations it makes when it’s being played in the game

anonymous asked:

Can you write an imagine where you and Justin spend the day in bed doing lazy and cute stuff?

YESSS Omg I love Justin! This is my first imagine on an ask but I don’t think I like it very much

~~

Originally posted by 13reasonssource

     You woke up tangled in bedsheets, your hair in your eyes and a warm body next to yours. You were partially naked, only in a pair of underwear, but one long arm was stretched out over your chest, covering your breasts. It was Justin, your boyfriend, and he was snoring lightly, his hair a mess of brunette curls on your sheets as he nuzzled his face in your shoulder. 

“Justin,” You whispered slightly after glancing at the clock and seeing the time. It was nearly lunchtime and you had never gone to sleep so late before in your life. “Wake up, sleepyhead.” 

You twisted your fingers through his curls and tugged slightly, causing Justin to groan and open his eyes a fraction. A lazy smile sprung up on his features as he saw you leaning over him, and he stretched his arms out before wrapping them around you tightly and dragging you into his chest before peppering kissed all along your face. 

“Justin!” You giggled, grabbing onto his face and finally giving him a proper kiss. After you pulled away and go onto your knees on the bed, crossing your arms and staring at him. “You told me you were going to take me to the beach today, but I’ll bet all the good spots are taken now because of your persistent late night activities!” 

Justin laughed and ran a hand through his hair while adjusting himself so he was laying on his back with the other hand behind his head. “Don’t act like you didn’t like those activities.” 

You rolled your eyes playfully before memories flashed in your head, causing you to shift. “Yes, but I’m sure the neighbors didn’t.” Justin just chuckled and closed his eyes again. 

“Seriously Justin! Come on, take a shower with me and then we’ll head somewhere.” You shed your undergarments but as soon as Justin neared the door you shut it and took a shower by yourself. 

“Y/N, come on!” Justin whined, opening the door while you washed your hair. He knew not to open the shower curtain without your consent so he stayed by the sink, grabbing his toothbrush and lathering it in toothpaste. “The beach is lame, I just want to stay here and be with you.” 

“You had me all last night, Justin.” You said while rinsing yourself off of strawberry scented bubbles. 

“That’s not enough, babe.” He said around his toothbrush. He walked over and tapped the curtain. You made a noise of consent and he pushed it open before climbing in. “I want to be with you not just sexually. I want to watch your favorite movies and feed you your favorite snacks, and I want to lay with you and breath in your delicious scent.” 

Justin had a mouthful of toothpaste but you understood him clearly. Your heart warmed at the thought of what Justin had just said, and when you had first met him at Monet’s you never would’ve guessed he would be this kind of cheesy. 

“Okay, Justin.” You smiled, but it quickly faded when he spit out the toothpaste that nearly hit your foot. “Oh, grosss, Justinn!” 

Justin let out a barking laugh as he washed his mouth out before you grabbed his toothbrush from his hand and stepped out of the shower. He started to wash himself as you dried yourself off. Who knew that having your own apartment to yourself was the best thing ever? No sisters to walk in on you and beg for the restroom, no parents walking in during intercourse with Justin. Just you and Justin. Because nothing else really mattered at the moment or at any moment. 

When Justin was done showering and you were both fully dressed in pajamas (you were actually in one of his shirts and a pair of socks) you ran to the kitchen and started up the microwave. 

“Kettle corn or buttered popcorn?” You asked Justin when you heard him enter, standing on the tip of your toes to look at the boxes you had. Justin walked over and picked you up from behind so you had a better view. 

“Are you kidding, Y/N? Is that even a question?” 

“Kettle it is then.” You grabbed the box before Justin set you down, going to grab some candies from a bowl you had. 

“You know all of this candy isn’t healthy, right babe?” Justin asked while stuffing skittles in his mouth.

You stuffed the bag of kettle corn in the microwave and pressed a button before turning to him. “It’s only unhealthy if you eat it. I haven’t touched that stash since last Monday.” 

Justin closed his mouth and then narrowed his eyes, nodding while pointing at you. “You right.” 

~

Three hours later you two were laying in bed while letting music play in the background, just laying in each others arms. Your head was on his chest while one leg was laying over his torso and he was running his fingers through your hair. 

“I love being like this with you, Y/N. I just can’t get en-” 

“OH MY GOD!” You gasped and then jumped up, causing Justin too as well. He looked frightened but when he saw you run to the radio and turn it up he rolled his eyes. 

“Really, Y/N?” 

“Shhh, it’s System of a Down.” You hissed as the intro to Toxicity played loudly. 

“You really surprise me with your music taste.” Justin sighed, watching you play air guitar. 

You jumped onto the bed as the chorus came on, flipping your hair and bouncing on the soft mattress.”DISORDER! DISORDER! DISORDEERR!” 

At first Justin was pushing at your ankles, trying to trip you, but then he joined you. He stood up and threw his head around, pretending as if he were playing the drums. Soon the mattress was creaking under the weight of the two of you jumping on it. 

“Y/N, you’re changing me!” Justin panted when you two were done, throwing himself on the bed. You followed and gave him a questioning look. “I used to hate rock, chick flicks, and kettle corn.” 

You returned to the position you two were in before, looking up at him with a smile. “Is that bad?” 

“No, I’ve never felt better in my life.” 

“Even when I was throwing skittles trying to get them in your mouth and you accidentally choked on one?” You laughed lightly. 

“Even then, baby.” 

~~

HOPE YOU ENJOOYYYY

DUFF (CHAPTER 1)

this story is based off the movie, The Duff! I hope you guys like it and let me know if you want me to continue it!

Originally posted by jibeom


CHAPTER 1

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: fluff, angst, smut in the next chapters

Warnings: Cussing and some sexual content 

Summary: “Being the Duff has really changed you.”“Excuse me, the Duff?” I asked, my voice rising a little at the end.“You know, the Designated. Ugly. Fat. Friend.”


   I’m done with them. Once again, Lisa and Cassie were flirting with everybody they could lay their eyes on. And what was I doing? Awkwardly standing in the corner of the crowded room, wishing I were anywhere else but here.

    As usual, I was probably going to be the one to have to drag them out of this party before any of these douche bag guys could try and get with one of them. This was a reoccurring thing every weekend and for some reason, I keep agreeing to come. 

    Deciding it was time to drag them home, I started to push through the sweaty, dancing bodies until I smacked right into someone, my chest colliding with theirs.

“Hey watch where you’re going!” A deep voice yelled.

Keep reading

Cutting Silver - by lucyoverspilledvodka

(co-written by yours truly and @victorsporosya )

In which Yuuri discovers something life-changing about his idol and fiance


Yuuri stood in the bathroom of Victor’s apartment—it still felt far too early to be comfortable dubbing it their apartment—having a small existential crisis. Whatever he had been looking for or wanting to put away in the sink cabinet was utterly forgotten. His childhood hero, his first love, his eternal idol… a deception from the very beginning.

The characters on the bottle were majorly Cyrillic, but there was really no mistaking to design and thus its purpose.

“Yuuri, what are you—” Just as Yuuri had lost his train of thought, Victor lost his words the moment he saw what his fiancé was holding.

“Is that why you cut it?” Yuuri asked, looking up from the bottle to Victor. “The ends were so dead from years of bleach?”

“It’s just a toner,” Victor defended, sounding unsure of himself.

“Really?” Yuuri flipped the bottle over, studying the script printed across the label. “Because it looks like dye.”

As delicately as he could, Victor took the bottle from Yuuri’s hands and replaced it in the sink cabinet. “You don’t really think that I—”

“Color your hair?” Yuuri finished for him, eyes traveling suspiciously along Victor’s hairline. He made to touch the strands, then pulled his hand back at the last moment as if dejected. “I can’t believe this…” he muttered, brushing past Victor on his way to their living room. “My whole life, a lie. My fiancé, a liar. How can I achieve gold when even the silver in my life is unattainable?”

Yuuri flopped with resignation onto the couch, Makkachin hopping on top of him for company.

Two sets of brown eyes judged Victor, who collapsed on the floor in front of Yuuri, grasping for his hands. “Yuuri, my darling, my angel, I swear I’m not lying. Come on, how could you think that? I’ll throw it away right now.” He paused, thinking, “You can shower with me every day for a month to see that it’s true.”

Victor’s blue eyes shimmered with his pleading, but Yuuri’s thoughts traveled to Victor’s grueling quad practice the previous day, leaving him completely unsympathetic. Instead, he turned his face away as dramatically as Victor taught him and sighed. “I don’t think we should shower together anymore, Victor. This is world-altering. I need time.”

Pout pushing out his lower lip, Victor sat back. Yuuri refused to turn back toward him.

Pursing his mouth, Victor reached up, sweeping away his own bangs before tentatively running his fingers through his hair. “I’ll prove it to you,” he said, eyes trained on Yuuri, determination sprinting across his face. “I’ll shave it off.”

Victor expected Yuuri to break. Expected to receive that panicked little squeak which he adored, as Yuuri kicked Makkachin off the couch in his hurry to sit up and grasp onto Victor, expected to hear him command Victor not to touch his beautiful hair, expected the confession that Yuuri had only been knowingly joking.

Yuuri turned to face Victor again, face blank as he stated, “Okay then.”

A blink. A moment. Then another. Yuuri’s brown eyes did not break from his, challenging and unyielding.

Taking a deep breath while trying not to show it too much, Victor swallowed and pushed himself up off the floor, standing over Yuuri.

His hands fisted against his side, but he would not be the one to break. “Okay then.”

Yuuri watched Victor start to move, a very small sense of dread building in the pit of his stomach. “What are you doing?”

“Proving it to you.”

Victor vanished down the hall, towards the bathroom. For a moment, Yuuri did not move. He knew Victor wasn’t going to shave his hair off. He knew that… right?

Yuuri dislodged Makkachin and followed Victor down the hall, into the bathroom, to see Victor on his knees searching through the lower cabinet.

“Just looking for the clippers,” Victor said airily and Yuuri crossed his arms. No way Victor was actually going to go through with his threat… Then again, Victor had cut his trademark hair the night before an ISU competition, without telling anyone, all for the sake of a surprise.

Victor hummed the tune to Stammi Vicino as he searched, taking his time. Yuuri saw him fumble with the clippers a little once they had been located, fidgeting with the settings. “You’re gonna do it…” The exhale was an attempt at steady, betrayed by a hitch.

“I said I’ll prove it to you, love. If you don’t believe me.” Victor rose and turned, clippers in hand.

Yuuri’s eyes met him. And did not back down. “Do it then.”

Victor thumbed at the switch, turning the device on. The bathroom filled with the buzzing, vibrating off the tile, waiting for either of them to break.

When Yuuri still said nothing, Victor lifted up the clippers with a flourish. Checked the settings. Looked back up at Yuuri. Still nothing. He turned to face the mirror, running a hand through his hair, and raised the clippers.

Yuuri’s heart began to panic inside his chest. He could see Victor’s blue eyes challenging him in the reflection of the mirror, could see himself leaning against the door of the bathroom in the corner. Then Victor raised the clippers to the edge of his hair, just by his ear.

The buzzing grew deafening and the clippers met the ends of Victor’s undercut—

“Alright! Stop, stop!”

Except that Victor didn’t. Despite the protest, he ran the comb of the clippers through his hair in a long swooping motion, drawing out a terrified shriek from Yuuri.

The very next second, Yuuri tore the clippers out of his hands, leaping to see the damage and—nothing.

Victor burst into laughter, all the more when Yuuri’s comically wide-eyes continued to search his untouched hairline.

“Wha—”

“I took the blade out,” Victor said and held up the clippers for Yuuri to see. No blade. Victor’s hair remained intact.

Yuuri very slowly reached his hands up, running his fingers through Victor’s hair. Victor preened, just a little, leaning into Yuuri’s touch.

“You…” Yuuri started, voice soft and eyes slowly narrowing. He looked up at Victor through his lashes and Victor’s heart picked up. He knew that look, anticipation bubbling up inside him.

“You tricked me,” Yuuri whispered, leaning up and brushing his lips against Victor’s cheek. Victor’s fringe caught between them, tickling.

“Only a little,” Victor replied, waiting for Yuuri to kiss him properly.

Yuuri pulled back, looked at Victor’s mouth with dark eyes, and his grip tightened in his Victor’s hair. Then, Yuuri tugged. Harder than usual. Victor’s head tilted back, Yuuri’s lips just hovering.

“Ah—”

“Coward,” Yuuri said, before releasing Victor entirely and walked out of the bathroom, hips swaying as he did so.

“Yuuri— wait, what?” Victor stammered, abandoned in the bathroom. Quickly turning off the clippers, he bounced after Yuuri and back down the hall towards the living area. Yuuri was in the kitchen, making tea with the coolest expression Victor had ever seen on him.

“Yuuri?”

“And I thought you loved me,” Yuuri sighed heavily, in a manner most unlike him. “Should’ve known Victor Nikiforov would’ve loved his hair more than his dime a dozen fiancé.”

“Yuuri!” Victor whined, walking straight through the kitchen to wrap his arms around Yuuri’s waist, resting his head on Yuuri’s shoulder. “Don’t be like that, it was a joke!”

“Hmm,” Yuuri hummed, ignoring Victor. Victor tightened his grip, kissing Yuuri’s neck.

“Yuuri, please.”

“Hmph.”

“Yuuri!” The whimper sounded excessive even to Victor’s own ears, but he could not bring himself to care.

Then Yuuri started to shake in Victor’s arms. Panic flashes through Victor at the thought that Yuuri might be crying. He twisted so he could cup Yuuri’s face in his hands and rain down apologies, and then realized that Yuuri was laughing.

“…You’re teasing me.”

“Only a little,” Yuuri imitated, relishing Victor’s broken expression before leaning back, turning a bit to kiss at Victor’s cheek. “You teased me first.”

“Does this mean you believe me?” Victor asked, more than relieved. The joke had been a little cruel. But that expression on Yuuri’s face had been so worth it.

“Technically you still haven’t proven anything,” Yuuri reminded him, even as he touched another kiss to Victor’s cheek.

A hum came from Victor and he tapped at his lips with a finger in consideration. “I’ve got some baby pictures,” he offered and even in their current position of back to chest, he could see the glint in Yuuri’s eyes. The one he’s dubbed Yuuri’s fanboy sparkle.

He was proven to be right when Yuuri’s voice trembled a bit at the start of his response. “O-oh? Well, if they’re not in black and white.”

“Keep talking and I won’t show you all of them,” Victor responded, kissing Yuuri’s hair before bouncing off to find an old photo album probably crammed somewhere dusty.

“All the more proof that you really don’t love me.”

Victor whined all the way to the bookshelf.

Not A Fan? // Seo Johnny

-

the prompt: Could I request a Johnny love at first sight fluff it takes place at an NCT fan meet taking your little sister see her favorite boy group NCT

words: 1517

category: fluff

author note: I love Johnny sm you have no idea. also I’ve never been to a fan sign so I looked it up to see what they’re like and tried to be as accurate as possible. hope you like it!

- destinee

Originally posted by haechannie

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

okay but how do you think a Jake honeypot date would go down because I have never read anything more amazing in my life

@natcat5 whose brilliant idea this is. 

  • Marco volunteers for the date immediately, as the only one on the team who is single and desperate.  (Although, he admits, not desperate enough to sleep with a controller under any circumstances.)  The thing is, though, that Sub-Visser Three-Eighty-One has a type: every guy Ax and Tobias have seen her flirting with in the two weeks they’ve been following her around has been tall, dark, and handsome.
    • Everyone on the team (especially Jake) somewhat doubts Jake’s ability to act well enough to play the part, but the only idea worse than sending Jake would be sending Ax to do it, so he reluctantly volunteers for the mission.
  • The setup goes more or less according to plan: Jake arranges to bump into the sub-visser coming out of a Sharing meeting, and to their enormous luck she becomes the one to ask him for a phone number.  Jake suggests the time and the place, though, and doesn’t have to fake enthusiastic relief when she agrees.
  • The day of, Rachel spends nearly two hours dressing Jake in various combinations of the seven pairs of pants, eighteen shirts, and five and a half jackets that she bought for the occasion, before Jake throws up his hands and announces that he’s going naked if this nonsense doesn’t end soon.
    • Marco immediately declares that that would be a brilliant way to get Sub-Visser Three-Eighty-One dancing to their tune.  
    • Cassie shyly volunteers the opinion that Jake looks nice no matter what he’s wearing.  
    • Rachel tells them both to shut up, on the grounds that Jake getting arrested for public indecency would be just as bad for their plan as him showing up in the ill-fitting basketball shirt and ripped jeans he wore when he left the house this morning.
  • After Rachel’s initial attempt to teach Jake to flirt with her crashes and burns (“You’re the closest thing I have to a sister!  I can’t just flirt with you!”) she substitutes Cassie into her own role.  To her surprise, that manages to go even worse.
    • “Cassie,” Jake says, blushing so much he looks ready to pass out.  “I like many things about you.  You’re the sweetest person I know, and you’re brilliant at not just morphing, but, like, understanding the morphing.  Oh, and you’re really smart at other stuff besides.  You get people so fast, and there are all these things in science class that go way over my head that you pick up right away.  And even though I was mad about it at the time, I thought it was cool that you saved those baby skunks—”
    • “CUT!” Rachel yells.  
    • “You told me to compliment her,” Jake says indignantly.  Cassie is currently examining the toes of her shoes with intense fascination, and appears to be fighting a fit of the giggles.
    • Rachel sighs loudly.  “Not her personality.  Think more physical.”
    • Jake takes a huge breath and draws himself up again.  “You are, like, super strong for a girl,” he tells Cassie. “For anyone, really.  That time when you pried that fox’s jaws open to make it vomit up the wolf poison—”
    • “CUT!  Cassie, Marco, switch places!”
    • All three of them stare at Rachel in surprise for a second.  Marco becomes the first to react, sidling up and sliding his arm through Jake’s.  “So,” he coos.  “Why’d a big strong man like you want to go out with little old me, anyway?”
    • “Because…” Jake glances at Rachel, who makes go on gestures.  “Because of your hair.  It’s very, uh, nicely done.”
    • Marco flips a few strands away from his face.  “You really think it turned out okay?  I only had time to run a brush through it a few times on the way over.”
    • “Yes,” Jake says firmly.  “It is nice hair.  And… you are… Notlikeothergirls!”
    • Marco bats his eyelashes, grinning now.  “You really mean that?”
    • Jake attempts to smile as well.  “I have never in my life met anyone like you, Marco.  Seriously.”
    • “Now you’re getting it,” Rachel announces.  She and Marco high-five at their own brilliance.  Unseen, Jake and Cassie exchange a mutually baffled look and a shrug of bemusement.
  • Jake sets off for the date trailed fifty feet up by a red-tailed hawk and a northern harrier.  He’s not sure why he’s wearing three shirts right now, or why the collars on all three are sticking straight up in the air (“Trust me,” Rachel insisted, “this is gonna be all over the country five years from now.”) like he’s a pastel version of Dracula.  He’s also hoping he can take the weird flat sunglasses off soon—Rachel instructed him to hang them from the v-neck of his topmost shirt when he does—because the weather’s overcast and he feels ridiculous.
    • “What do we know so far?” he asks Tobias.
    • <Apparently, our dear little alien friend works in an arcade downtown, and is a big fan of shopping in her spare time.  Likes: purple fabrics, smelling flowers, and spicy tacos from food trucks.  Dislikes: dogs, dog owners, seriously don’t mention Homer, and small children.>
    • <Her selection of tacos was most excellent,> Ax adds.  <The driver of that food truck adds large quantities of a wonderful substance known as Sriracha to his meat and meat by-products.>
    • <So we may have sampled the taco truck ourselves.  Strictly for research purposes,> Tobias admits.  <And yeah, Sub-Visser whatever’s got taste.  Or Stacy does, jury’s still out on that one.>
    • “Stacy?” Jake asks, as loud as he dares.
    • <The name of her host?> Tobias says.  <Seriously?  Were you planning on walking up to her and being like ‘well, hello there, Iriess one-thirty-two’?>
    • “Stacy,” Jake mutters to himself, rather than admitting he forgot.  “Stacy.  Stacy, Stacy, Stacy, Stacy, Stacy.”
    • <And now you sound nuts, which should make a real good first impression.>
  • At Tobias’s urging, Jake stops at a stand outside a greengrocer’s and buys a dozen daffodils for her.  He’s not sure if he’s allowed to take off the sunglasses when he’s standing under the shade of the awning, even though they make it very difficult to count out bills and change.  He does know that he is not under any circumstances to push them back into his hair, because then all the gel will make a weird crunching noise and Rachel will boil him in oil when she finds his spikes deformed.  He could probably fit the entire bouquet into one of the ridiculously large pockets on the pants that he’s certain are three sizes too large, but he tucks it under his arm instead.  “I hate this,” he mutters.
    • <Be cool,> Tobias says.  <If I could do meet-cute with Taylor in the middle of a coffee shop, you can survive ninety minutes of pumping a yeerk for recruitment tactics and Sharing plans.>
    • <I would recommend against bringing up Tobias’s decision to meet Taylor alone last March if you wish Rachel to leave the restaurant standing, Prince Jake.>
    • Jake gives them both a sickly smile of gratitude.
  • The initial meet’n’greet outside the restaurant goes reasonably well: Sub-Visser Three-Eighty-One exclaims over the daffodils, Jake remembers to call her “Stacy,” and with effort he ignores the skin-crawly sensation of Cassie (now a housefly) landing in his hair.  By the time they make it into the restaurant, Tobias and Rachel are already posed at a different table with baseball caps in place, while Marco shuffles around in a white apron busing tables and Ax (despite eight or nine promises that this time he’ll be cool around food) remains safely out of sight and out of morph on the roof.  If anything goes catastrophically wrong, the plan is for Cassie to alert Marco, who will create a diversion by overturning a dish cart while Rachel and Tobias hastily duck under the tablecloth of their own table—Rachel to morph, Tobias to demorph—as Ax provides everyone cover.  Jake’s pretty sure that if his date wants to shoot him in the head there’ll be nothing the others can do in time to stop her, but at least he knows he probably won’t end up forcibly made into a controller by the end of the evening.
  • Rachel, blatantly eavesdropping even as she holds Tobias’s hand across the table and they stare into each other’s eyes (if anyone starts looking at them too closely they start loudly sucking face) has to admit that Jake does better than she would have expected.  He asks “Stacy” where she got her shoes, laughs in a way that’s only slightly moronic when she compliments his sunglasses, and (after Tobias calls out a suggestion in thought-speak) even remembers to pull her chair out for her before she sits down.  
  • As instructed, Jake waits until after they’ve already ordered their food to turn the conversation to the reason they went to all this trouble in the first place.  He’s pretty pleased with how things are going so far, although then again he might just be light-headed from the smell of the instatan Rachel sprayed on him earlier.
    • “So,” he says.  “You’re part of the Sharing, right?  How’d you get into that in the first place?”
    • Ireiss 132 tosses a lock of Stacy’s hair over her shoulder.  “My older sister got me into it, actually.  She kept begging me and begging me to join, and then one time I just—Hey, you okay?”
    • Jake forces a laugh, doing his best not to think of Stacy, to think of Tom, to think but for the grace of God... “Sure.  Just, uh, zoned for a second.  So, the Sharing does a lot of recruitment events, right?”
    • <Don’t make her suspicious,> Tobias says unhelpfully.  <Just keep her on her toes.>
    • “Yeah, we’ve got volleyball days, cookouts on the beach, whole weekends upstate…”  She leans forward a little across the table.  “You interested in joining?”
    • <Say yes!> Cassie suggests, at almost exactly the same time Tobias says, <Tell her ‘hell no.’>  Marco, standing across the room, makes eye contact with Jake long enough to shake his head emphatically, just as Tobias adds, <Actually Rachel says to tell her yes.>
    • Jake closes his eyes for a second to find the patience not to swat at the back of his head and then throw a full plate of food at the next table over.  “I don’t know, really,” he says diplomatically.  “What do you guys do, anyway, besides sit around and eat hamburgers?”
    • “It’s all about community outreach,” Ireiss 132 says, apparently not noticing Jake’s hesitation.  “We do days where we clean up litter at the park, we raise money to fund cancer research—”
    • <Of course they do,> Cassie says darkly.  <Can’t have anything wrong with their prospective slaves, right?>
    • Jake, having missed the end of that sentence, has to make an educated guess.  “Sounds pretty cool.  Don’t you have, like, celebrity endorsements?”
    • “Oh, sure.  There’s Jeremy Jason McCole, William Roger Tennant…” Ireiss ticks the names off on Stacy’s left hand.  “That blond lady with the cooking show, Senator Malesin, Senator Argo, Angelina Jolie—”
    • <Angelina Jolie?> Tobias says.  
    • Cassie gasps.  <But she seems like such a nice lady on TV!>
    • <Who is Angelina Jolie?  Is Prince Jake okay?>
    • <He’s fine.  However, Rachel would like me to pass along a few comments with strong language about Angelina Jolie’s lifestyle, dress, and immediate ancestors.>
    • “Shut up!” Jake hisses.
    • Ireiss blinks at him a few times.
    • Jake clears his throat.  “I just mean…” He changes his inflection.  “Shut up!  As in, you’re kidding me!  You think maybe I could meet her sometime?”
    • “Join the Sharing,” Ireiss says.  “We could make it happen.  Once you get initiated as a full member your whole life opens up before you—you can’t imagine what it’s like.”
    • Jake forces another smile.  He picks up his fork.  This helps him to avoid giving into the urge to clamp both hands over his ears, slide under the table, and scream something about how they can never have his body.  He can imagine the experience a little too well, and it’s not something he’s ever letting happen again.  
  • Nonetheless, Jake manages to keep lightly deflecting Ireiss’s recruitment attempts while also digging for information, clear through until Marco—with a flourish—brings them a plate of mini cannoli for dessert.  After he ducks away from their table he sweeps over to begin polishing the corner of Rachel and Tobias’s.
    • <Marco says he wants you to save him one, because they look delicious,> Tobias says a minute later.
    • Jake, who has just been distracted in the middle of Ireiss’s description of how they draw in community members to Sharing meetings, makes a mental note to define the term radio silence for the entire team when they get home.  Then he picks up the last cannoli, very pointedly licks it, and puts it back on the plate uneaten.
    • <Marco says, and I quote, that there are ‘children starving in Montana’ that you are ‘not the man he fell in love with,’ and that he is ‘wounded to the depths of his soul.’  By the way, you do know not to offer to pay for dinner, right?  Because you don’t actually want to get a second date out of this.>
    • “You were saying?” Jake says loudly.
    • Ireiss clears Stacy’s throat.  “Oh, just that we really feel reaching out to vulnerable kids—as through the youth shelter I mentioned, and the after-school program—is the best way to offer them the Sharing as an alternative to gang membership.”
    • Jake dearly hopes that someone is taking notes on all of this, because if he suffered through the application of that much instatan for nothing he’s going to strangle someone.  “That’s really cool.  So is there, like, a place where you keep track of all the Sharing’s full members?  Some kind of database or something?”
    • <Too strong, too strong,> Cassie says.  
    • <Prince Jake, Cassie and Tobias have now been in morph for one-hundred-eight of your minutes.  May I suggest that you put a wrap in it?>
    • <So close, Ax-Man, and yet so far.>
    • “…nothing that formal,” Ireiss is saying.  “Hoping for more celebrities?”
    • “You know what?”  Jake stands up.  “It’s been real.  But I’ve got a thing, so…”
    • Tobias is right: he emphatically doesn’t want a second date.  Waving at Stacy, Jake pivots and walks out the door without another word.
  • They assemble in Cassie’s barn later that evening, Jake attempting to get one of Cassie’s horse-brushes through the horrible gel-stiff mess of his hair as everyone else trickles in.  “Okay,” he says wearily, when they’re all present, “What did we learn today?”
    • “For starters,” Marco says, “That Tobias is apparently romantic as hell.  Were I not healthily terrified of your beautiful and homicidal cousin, I would already be trying to hit that like a—”
    • <Before you can go any further, no.>  Tobias glares at Marco.  <Also, to answer your next question, I am also not interested in a threesome.>
    • Besides that.”  Jake rubs a hand over his face, smearing the makeup that Rachel insisted isn’t makeup across his skin.  “What else?”
    • “I learned that, on second thought, lime green is not your color.”  Rachel frowns.  “I’m not sure the look works at all.  You can take the boy out of the WalMart jeans, but you can’t take the WalMart jeans out of the boy, I guess.”
    • “Can we please stay on topic?” Jake asks.
    • “Angelina Jolie’s a controller.”  Cassie smiles sympathetically at Jake.  “So are two of California’s state senators, and a handful of B-list actors.  The Sharing is recruiting at the youth shelter, which is just all kinds of gross and awful, and they’re making a push to move into more schools across the county.”
    • <Also,> Ax adds, <We have the names of several more businesses that have donated to the Sharing, and are therefore possible yeerk pool entrances.  I suggest we start with further research on Burt’s Taco Truck, although I sincerely doubt that any yeerk would have that magnificent grasp of the subtleties of spicy and umami.  Still, it warrants much more extensive exploration.>
  • They rehash everything Ireiss 132 said, hinted at, or confirmed in response to Jake’s questions for nearly two more hours.  By the end of it they’ve got a decent plan in place for how to ensure the Sharing can’t spread any more feelers into any more parts of the community, and the beginnings of an idea for how to discredit the whole organization.  By then it’s getting late, so Jake and Marco and Rachel all split off to head home.
    • There’s a note pinned on the fridge when Jake walks in.  Midget— Some chick keeps calling the house wanting to know when she’ll see you again.  Call her back or get rid of her, but stop clogging up the line with your dumb teenage nonsense.
    • Jake stares at it in incredulity for several seconds.  “Goddamn yeerks,” he says at last, and balls it up to throw in the trash.  
Making Friends

Jughead Jones x Reader

A/N: Hey guys! This is my first imagine on this blog, so I hope you all like it! I hope to be able to post a new imagine daily, but we’ll just have to see where things go from here. Anyway, thanks for reading!
Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is one of the most well known girls in Riverdale. On the cheer squad, invited to all the parties, liked by all the jocks… But one day, in the student lounge, she does something…unexpected. All Jughead wants to know is: why?
Word Count: 1122

———————–

Reggie was an asshole. No one could deny that. But today, for some reason, he was being exceptionally asshole-ish.
“And Sheriff Keller’s grilling me, Mantle the Magnificent. ‘Cause I’d want Blossom dead. When he was, like, the only good quarterback we had,” Reggie comments. I don’t even attempt to hide the eye-roll I give him.
“I mean, let’s think about it. If a kid at Riverdale killed Jason, it’s not gonna be a jock, right? Now, let’s be honest. Isn’t it always some spooky, scrawny, pathetic Internet troll, too busy writing his manifestos to get laid? Some smug, moody, serial killer fanboy freak… like Jughead?”
Now that caught my attention. Jughead? Really? I don’t really know him too well, but he’s always seemed like a cool guy to me. There was no logical reason to drag him into this. But that’s the thing about Reggie, I guess. He doesn’t even know what logic is.
“What was it like, Suicide Squad? When you shot Jason? You didn’t do stuff to the body, did you? Like, after?”
I looked over at Jughead to see him leaning against the wall, rolling his eyes. “It’s called necrophilia, Reggie, can you spell it?”
I couldn’t help the laugh that slips past my lips. Reggie looks back at me, then turns to face Jughead. He leaps over the couch, saying, “Come here, you little-”
“Oh, come on, Reggie,” I say loudly. His head whips back around to look at me, so I continue.
“What are you doing here? Putting on a little display of power because he hurt your feelings?” My eyes flick over to Jughead, and I see the ghost of a smile dance across his lips. I stand up, gathering my things. “Really, it’s kind of pathetic, if I’m being honest,” I tell him. “You have to be a jerk to other people to feel good about yourself, and then when they don’t let you make them feel bad, you get yourself suspended from school because you have to hit them to make sure your little posse doesn’t think less of you?” I shrug, making eye-contact with him. “Personally, I like Jughead,” I smile. “He’s different. Honest. Real,” I say, avoiding his gaze. “And he’s nothing like you,” I spit. His eyes widen. Then, I give him my sweetest smile, and say, “But that’s just my opinion.” I flip my hair over my shoulder and strut out of the room, everyone’s eyes on me.

—————–

I opted out of the party at Cheryl’s tonight. On top of the fact that I really didn’t feel like going anyway, I don’t think people have gotten over the whole scene with Reggie from earlier today. Cheryl Blossom’s house is really the last place I want to be right now.
That’s why I came to Pop’s instead. The smell of fries wafting through the air hits me as soon as I walk in to the little diner. I pull out a seat at the bar, and order some fries with a chocolate milkshake. After a few minutes of waiting, my food is delivered to me. I begin dipping my fries in my shake when somebody comes over and sits down next to me, stealing some of my fries. I look up to find the one and only Jughead, laptop and all, looking at me curiously. I mimic his facial expression, furrowing my eyebrows and looking at him intensely.
“Why did you do that?” he asks sternly.
“Do what?” I reply, copying his tone of voice.
“You know what,” he tells me, rolling his eyes.
“Put Reggie in his place, you mean?” He doesn’t respond, just takes more of my fries and looks at me expectantly. “It was the truth,” I say with a shrug. “He’s a jerk and I’m tired of his shit. So called him out on it,” I finish, looking him in the eyes.
“Yes, but he’s a jerk all the time, to everyone. So why today?” he presses.
I tuck my hair behind my ear. “He was being an asshole. He called you out for no reason. It was ridiculous.”
“You don’t even know me. I could really be some- how did he put it- serial killer fanboy freak?”
For a second, I think that might be a smirk on his face. “Well,” I tell him, “that would be a shame.”
“Why’s that?” he asks quizzically.
“Because that would mean that I’d have to admit that Reggie was right, which would probably crush my soul.”
A real smile graces his features, and he even laughs. “You know, you’re not like them,” he tells me. I raise my eyebrows in question. “Like those other popular kids you’re always around. They’re nothing like you.”
“As in they’re bitches and I’m not?” I ask playfully, taking a sip of my shake. Again, the corners of his mouth twitch upward in a half-grin.
“Kind of, yeah, I guess. You’re just…not what I expected you to be,” he says honestly.
“And what did you expect? Some snobby, stuck-up rich bitch who doesn’t care about other people?”
“Not exactly…” he says unconvincingly.
I scoff. “Sorry to disappoint.”
He gives me that “really?” look, tilted head and all, and I just grin.
“I just hate that people assume the kind of person I am based on the people they see me around. They don’t even know me.”
“Well, I’m getting to know you,” he says, “and you’re definitely not like them.”
I smile and pretend to glance down at a watch that I’m not wearing. “Look at us, Jones. Our first fight and make up in under a minute. I think we could really pull this off.”
He smirks. “Pull what off?”
“Anything,” I tell him, my eyes gleaming with excitement. “But when you have something specific in mind, let me know.”
He stares at me for a second, then says, “How about friends?”
I smile at him. “Friends it is then.”
And that’s that. We sit there at Pop’s, my new friend Jughead and I, sipping on milkshakes and sharing fries. And I finally realize what it’s like to have a real friend.

British Invasion | 10

Overview:In the middle of her freshman year of high school Riley Matthew’s mother gets a once in a lifetime opportunity to run her firms London Office. Much to everyone’s surprise her mother accepts the job, forcing Riley and her younger brother Auggie to leave behind everything they’ve ever known. Almost three years later the Matthew’s family moves back to New York and Riley comes to realize a lot has changed in the time she’s been gone.
Author’s Notes: Lucas finally finds out about what happened in London that caused The Matthews to move back home. [As always the text in italics are flashbacks.]
Chapter 10: “Oliver & Company.” 
Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9
Word Count: 4,867

♡♡♡

Slowly and reluctantly, Riley uncovers her face. She blinks several times before the streaks of sunlight penetrate the window and practically blind her. She sits up, drags her feet off the bed, and rubs her knuckles into her eyes before stretching her arms out above her head and letting out a well needed yawn. She needed a few more hours of nothingness. Not to sleep, but to prepare, to pour her thoughts out onto a page, reorganize, prioritize and pack them back in again. She had a lot to figure out in terms of her feelings and it didn’t help that whenever she closed her eyes only one person came to mind.

As her feet dangled off the bed and hit the hardwood floor she feels a chill in the air. Curious to see what weather she’d be dealing with that day she opens the window and inhales the crisp, cool air.

“Snow!” She hears Auggie yell from his room. Shortly after she can hear the pitter-patter of his little feet hitting the floor as he runs into her room and up to the window she was still standing in front of. “Riley look it’s snowing!” He beamed, standing on his tippy toes to see out further on the street.

“Yeah, I see it Augs.” She smiles, tussling the younger boy’s bouncy head of curls. “First snow of the season.”

“Let’s go to the roof!” He insists, dragging her by the sleeve of her night shirt. She didn’t bother protesting, she knew he’d win out in the end and she’d never say no to an impromptu play in the snow.

Sticking out her tongue like a little child, they both run outside hand-in-hand. Not caring that it was frigid, they ran and twirled, the heavy snowflakes falling faster and faster, almost mimicking their eccentric twirling.

She blinked thoughtfully as the frost patiently kissed her face, she adored the snow, more so when it was falling. The street always looked like an unfinished painting. Like so much of the canvas was still perfectly white, as if waiting for the artists hand to return.

“It’s freezing out here.” They hear Topanga say from the door, “Come back inside.”

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KATHERINE PIERCE STARTER SENTENCES
  • I’m the one who taught you how to love. 
  • No need for goodbye. I’ll see you on the flip side.
  • Do you like who I am or do you miss who I was?
  • I’m the only non bitter person at this bitter ball.
  • Cold, manipulative, good hair. You really are my daughter.
  • How’s my dress? It screams safe and predictable. Am I right? Or am I right?
  • I don’t deserve to be loved.
  • Great. Then my work here is done
  • God, you’re hot… now go away.
  • I couldn’t miss it. You really are hot in a suit. I would love to just… 
  • I know not to pet one. 
  • No rules,____. Don’t you remember? No rules. 
  • Yeah… based on your choice in women, I’d say otherwise. 
  • Stop. I already know the question and it’s answer…
  • We’re gonna have so much fun together. 
  • I win, what`s my prize? 
  • You hate me, huh? That sounds like the beginning of a love story, ____, not the end of one.
  • The truth is I`ve never loved you
  • You loved me once, you can love me again
  • Why did you keep this picture?
  • Love, hate, such a fine line. I can wait
  • I guess you don’t hate me as much as you thought you did.
  • I will kill everyone that she loves, while she watches, and then I will kill her while you watch.
  • I love you, ____. We will be together again. I promise.
  • Do you honestly believe that I don`t have a plan B? And if that fails a plan C and a plan D. You know how the alphabet works don`t you. 
  • I will always look out for myself. If you`re smart, you`ll do the same
  • Better you die than I
  • Don`t be such a grump. We`re here together. We might as well make the best out of it. 
  • You can hate me, but we both want the same thing. And you know..I always get what I want. 
  • If it’s any consolation, I’m glad you’re not dead.
  • I don’t know. You kidnapped me remember, I’m kind of out of the loop.
  • Life is too cruel. If we cease to believe in love, why would you want to live? 
We’re Good

Request: You and Shawn are dating, but you don’t like Camila and you get jealous so you’re very lovey dovey whenever Camila is around––happy ending / “How long have you been standing there?”

a/n: thank you all for being so patient with these updates!! I’m really trying my best to crank them out and balance my school life + social life!! You all rock I LOVE YOU ALL!!!!!

Your name: submit What is this?

Going to the studio and just sitting in on one of Shawn’s sessions was always one of your favorite things.  You didn’t want to have a career in the entertainment industry, but seeing the process of everything behind making an album captivated you since the first time you saw Shawn recording.

           You sat on the outside of the booth with a table full of snacks that Shawn requested.  Playing on your phone, or scrolling through social media, was what you did while you listened to him.  He was in the middle of recording some vocals for a piano ballad he wrote.  His voice was your favorite thing to listen to and it soothed every part of you.  You couldn’t hear the music he was singing along to, but from hearing the verse he was singing, you knew that this would be your favorite song off his next album.

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Did I tell you how I had a dream I met Daveed Diggs on a kinda weird shuttle bus

Ok so basically it was the bus kinda like the London overground (for those of you who’ve been on it) except on the streets and out of the corner of my eye,,,, I saw:

The hair.

It couldn’t belong to anyone else. I turned around and there he was- Daveed Diggs. I flipped my shit and ran towards him asking for a picture but I fucked up like 5 ways and I was really annoying cause I kept taking really bad pictures lmao I felt bad for him but it was still a life highlight even if it was in a dream.

Sweethearts--Imagine #21

Anonymous said: Hey! Love ur imagines so frickin much omfg😍😍 could u write an imagine where my crush is sad about his parents divorcing and we get to talking and I cheer him up a lot and we hang out a lot and become really great friends?

A/N: Aww, thank you so much Anon for that sweet compliment!!! I am SUPER sorry for getting to your request so late. Hope this makes up for it! <3 Keep dreaming!~Logan


This was the fifth day that c/n had missed school. The fifth day he had been marked absent. The fifth day that I hadn’t seen his handsome face or passed him in the halls or gotten the chance to exchange a hello. 

I missed him horribly, to say the least. But the worst part was the bundle of nerves in my stomach that hadn’t left since the first day he didn’t arrive to class. For some reason, I felt like I could sense something was wrong. Like there was more to the story than him just missing a week of school. I couldn’t appease myself with the reassurance that he was probably just sick or maybe had taken an impromptu vacation. I couldn’t be calmed by any lame reasons I thought up of why he was missing for so many days. 

I was sitting on the grass, eating my lunch outside where tons of other kids had decided to take their lunch outside as well and take advantage of the pleasant weather. Where I was sitting though was farther away from everyone else. My friends were absent today so I was alone, and picking at the grass on the lawn. 

“You mind if I take a seat by you?” A tentative voice asked from behind. 

My head whipped around to meet the eyes of C/n. I was taken aback. What was he doing here so late? My body felt like it removed a hundred pound brick  from my stomach, though and I moved aside my lunch bag to make room beside me.

“Not at all,” I smiled, shyly. 

We had never really talked much aside from friendly smiles and the occasional greetings and “how are you”s. But I had harbored a crush on him for awhile and this was something I’d only dreamt about happening. 

He sat cross-legged next to me, heaving a sigh that made me feel heavy. Maybe my anxieties about him hadn’t been off. I looked closer at him as he pulled out a simple sandwich and apple from his backpack. His eyes had shadows that weren’t normally so dark, the redness rimming his irises making him look weary and suspiciously like he’d been crying. His lips were set in a tight line, chapped. His normally well-kept hair was covered in a beanie in a poor attempt to contain the wild shock of hair underneath. His clothes looked rumpled and hung off his hunched shoulders. 

Yeah, something was definitely up.

“It’s good to see you,” I smiled softly, hesitating.

I didn’t want to push him into talking about stuff he’d rather avoid but questions were threatening to spill out of my mouth. 

He turned his head to look at me and that’s when I knew for a fact he’d definitely been crying. His brows furrowed a bit.

“Yeah? I guess my homeless look suits me pretty well, hm?” He joked, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“We all have those days. Had a rough day?”

“Try rough couple of months,” he mumbled, a frown settling over his face. 

Suddenly he looked up, regret written over his face. 

“Forget I said that. I didn’t meant to bother you by sitting down. I just didn’t feel like talking to my friends and you’re always so easy to be around– and now I’m rambling,” he cut himself off. 

“Hey,” I said, and he looked up from picking at his sandwich. “I totally get it. You want some space. And you’re not bothering me. I like your company and if you have anything you want to get off your chest, I’m all ears,” I said, smiling reassuringly at him. 

“Thanks, y/n. It’s been a stressful week what with not being here to understand my homework, and dealing with my parents’ divorce, and my friends being the careless bastards that they are,” his shoulders slumped even more, and I wanted to reach out and pull him into a hug. 

“I’m really sorry about your parents. I had no idea,” I whispered. 

He shrugged, trying to pass it off as not a big deal. 

“Is that why you’ve been gone?” 

“Yeah. Frankly, I’m surprised you noticed. None of my other friends have.”

“I noticed the first day you didn’t show. I was honestly worried about you. God, I sound like a creep,” I shook my head at myself, instantly regretting my words. 

“No, actually, it’s really nice to hear,” he said, his sunken eyes looking deep into mine. “My parents have been working on this divorce for awhile and any day where we said hi and you smiled at me really made my spirits lift. Even if just for a bit. I feel kinda lame talking about all my problems when this is the first real conversation we’ve had,” he confessed, looking apologetic. 

“There’s no rules for how to talk to people. At least, not with me. I’d much rather have you tell me about your bad months than suffer through awkward, forced small talk,” I chuckled. 

That got a real chuckle out of him and I savored the rough albeit soothing sound of it.

“In all seriousness though, I’m really sorry you have to go through that. And you really don’t look bad, by the way. In fact, I’m kind of digging the beanie,” I bumped my shoulder into his playfully, eliciting another laugh out of him.

“What about my hair? What do you think of the style?” He asked, flipping his hair like those snotty girls do in movies.

I giggled. “It suits you. Looks rebellious.”

“Wow, didn’t know I’d be capable of pulling off a rebellious look,” he said, chuckling along with me. 

A few minutes of silence followed while we chewed on our lunches before c/n spoke up. 

“I know we’ve only had a real conversation today, but I was wondering if you wanted to hang out at the mall tomorrow? We could look around some stores and get some of those delicious cinnamon rolls?” He asked, eyes finally lighting up with what I could only describe as hope.

“I’d love to!” 

———————————————————————–

Two weeks had passed and though we had only gotten to know each other recently, I already felt like I knew c/n for years. 

His parent’s divorce was taking a toll on him, so when we talked and hung out I always made sure to keep the conversation light, unless he wanted to talk in-depth about his parents. I savored those moments when I cracked a joke and his dull eyes that used to shine brightly would spark again and for a moment he was his old self. 

Still, is situation was hard on him. Some days he showed up to school looking how he did that first day we talked and the only words he would say to me were hi and goodbye. Still, I stayed by his side even when he chose not to speak. I knew he needed my company, needed someone by his side, showing him they loved him no matter his mood. 

Today, I sat squirming in my seat, my eyes darting to the clock. The bell would ring any minute and c/n still hadn’t walked through the door. It seemed I had become just as addicted to his company as he was to mine. Right as the bell rang and our teacher was closing the door, he bursted through, bloodshot eyes and all. 

It took me only one glance for me to know he’d been balling his eyes out before he’d come. 

He darted to his seat, not wanting to draw attention to himself and sat down behind me. As the lecture began, I let my arm drop down to my side and reach back. Not even a moment passed before I felt his warm palm slide into mine and I squeezed his hand, offering what little strength I could to him. 

This had become a thing we did. Days when words failed for the sadness he felt or when we simply felt like being connected in some way, I’d reach behind me and hold his hand from my seat in front of him. I liked the intimacy of it. It was shy, but calming and the comfort we both got from it benefited us greatly.

Class couldn’t have ended soon enough and I pulled c/n out of the room before the rush of students could block the hallways. Without grabbing a hold of his hand, I led him to a quiet corner near our lockers. 

When I finally turned to him, I simply dropped my backpack to the floor and flung my arms around him. His body reacted immediately, his arms wrapping around my body cocooning me in his comforting embrace. Our bodies were pressed flush against one another and I couldn’t think of something I’d ever experienced before that was so bitter-sweet. A few sniffles escaped from c/n’s mouth and were muffled by my hair, which he had buried his face into. 

“It’s ok. I’m here. I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere,” I whispered to him. 

I pulled back just enough to see his face, every inch of the rest of our bodies still pressed against each other. 

A tear slipped from his eye, and I brushed it away gently with the soft pad of my thumb. The vulnerability with which he looked at me struck my heart and I reached up a bit to place a feather-light kiss to the cheek that had just been dampened by a tear. 

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he said, his arms holding me tighter.

“Well, you certainly wouldn’t be ditching class that’s for sure,” I said, a hint of a smile tugging at my lips. 

His eyes widened when he realized what I was implying. 

Fifteen minutes later, I had taken him to a nearby flower shop. On the way, I’d bought us hot chocolate because that had always seemed to help him cheer up a bit. 

But now, we perused the flowers in the shop, losing ourselves in the sweet scents they were giving off and feasting our eyes on the brilliant colors surrounding us. 

“Y/n check this one out,” c/n said, tugging my on my hand. 

I smiled as he brought me over to a beautiful bouquet of peonies. 

“They’re beautiful,” I breathed. 

“They have such a soft color. But they’re not small, they have personality. They take up space. Just like you,” he smiled, looking at me with earnest eyes.

“You calling me fat, c/n?” I asked, smirking.

“No!” He exclaimed, then laughed as I laughed with him. “God, no. I’m saying, that just like these flowers have a gentleness about them they’re not without personality. Look at how they fill up an empty vase. Just like how you filled up my empty heart,” he finished, entwining his fingers with mine. 

And that was the first day we referred to each other not only as best friends  but as sweethearts, too. 

anonymous asked:

This has always been in the back of my head whenever I read Shawn imagines. He has pretty curly hair so even if he married someone with straight hair their kid would have wavy hair probably, but imagine if he married someone with curly hair/ even natural curly kinky hair. He wouldn't be able to just run his hair through his wife's hair like that because he would literally get his hand tangled in the curls. And their kids' hair would be SO SO curly and bouncy. I just think about that sometimes.

Okay let’s get into Shawn’s hair because i got a lot of scientific theories about this:

I’M ABOUT TO GO ON A LONG ASS TANGENT ABOUT SHAWN’S HAIR IT’S LONG, BUT REALLY INTERESTING, SO CONTINUE READING IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO KNOW MY SHAWN THEORY.

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mundane au | clizzy | after a breakup, clary decides to dye her hair pink and isabelle is her hairdresser

(somewhat inspired by this & anyone who ever made a gifset of clary with pink hair)


“Do you think I’d look good with pink hair?”

Simon looks at Clary, the slight surprise in his eyes fading as his thinking face comes out, like he’s honestly trying to picture it, because Simon is the kind of friend who wouldn’t even question why she’s asking.

“I think you might actually be able to pull that off,” he says after another few moments, a genuine smile on his face. While Clary was only half serious, having Simon think it’s a good idea makes her think she should actually do it.

It’s been a while since she’s done anything purely for herself, a while since she’s wanted to, especially after Adrian and her broke up. Well, if you can call him being an asshole and dumping Clary out of nowhere them breaking up. Simon calls it the best thing to happen since The Force Awakens came out, and Clary is finally at a point where she knows he’s right, Adrian was an ass and she’s better off without him.

And maybe making a visible change in her life might be exactly what she needs to fully put this behind her, to start fresh, as cheesy as that sounds.

She pulls out her phone and calls her hair salon, even more certain of her decision when it turns out someone had just canceled and there was an opening in about an hour, giving her just enough time to get there from the coffee shop she and Simon are at.

“Are you sure it’s okay that I leave?” she asks again as they reach Simon’s subway station.

“Yes, of course, go and do your thing, we see each other every day,” Simon reassures her, giving her a hug and taking another long look at her after he pulls away. “You are gonna look so badass.”

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A few things to keep in mind as an Army:

-The boys are all extremely excited about these new songs, so they would appreciate your full support of their hard work.

-THE BOYS THEMSELVES CHOOSE WHO GETS LINES. Mostly, anyway. Stop getting angry with maknae line for getting more lines than Hoseok (or targeting Jungkook specifically, bc he already was catching shit for getting a lot of lines even before this comeback). Those boys love each other so much. Do you really think they would make it a situation of “stealing lines”? Do you really think Jeon Jungkook would flip his hair and say “Yes I think I deserve these lines because I’m the best one here”? They probably thought long and hard about line distribution and had a good reason for deciding on Hoseok not having any lines. For all we know, Hoseok could have felt like his voice didn’t fit the song as well as the others. They could have not had a choice. WE DONT KNOW AND WE NEVER WILL SO JUST BE MATURE AND WORK THROUGH YOUR DISAPPOINTMENT RESPECTFULLY.

-THIS IS NOT TO SAY BEING DISAPPOINTED WITH HOSEOK’S LACK OF LINES IS BAD OR INVALID. If you’re disappointed, that’s fine. But BE MATURE and stop bashing the others who had more lines than him. It’s rude and immature and probably causes tension between the members, just as much if not MORE than reading all the gross and sexual comments on their YouTube and twitter updates.

-I think a lot of people forget that Jungkook is actually the main vocalist and therefore it makes sense for him to have a larger portion of lines.

-I know it’s weird to think, but Bangtan is literally made up of grown men. Yes they’re young adults, but they’re adults nonetheless. They know better than anyone what goes into their job, and they can sort through it with the support of each other and the support (not hissy fits and rage filled messages) from Army. They’re stronger than many of us give them credit for.

-There is no “Hyung line” and “Maknae line”. There is so division between those boys other than the fact that hyung line is older. Stop working so hard to make inter-fandom-warfare a thing. We have enough fandoms against us as is. Be mature and realize that Bangtan is a GROUP of seven INDIVIDUALS that deserve respect. All. seven. of them. Deserve. Respect.

-Bangtan Sonyeondan is allowed to explore music styles. Having a different sound that they did when they debuted is a GOOD THING. It means that they’re growing as people and artists. They have more creative control with their music than they did then, which means they’re working together to make it fit their personal tastes.

-Spreading negativity isn’t the way to bring justice to something you think is an issue. To the boys, if they dug around and read comments (which we know they do), it more than likely seems as if a large portion of Army aren’t enjoying the comeback because of one reason or another because of all the negativity being spread. The truth of the matter is: IT DOESNT MATTER HOW GOOD YOUR INTENTIONS ARE IF YOURE HURTING SOMEONE ELSE IN THE PROCESS. Whether it be another Army or one of the boys.

-You don’t have to love all of their music. You don’t have to love every concept or music video. And you don’t have to know every single detail about them to be a “true Army”. What makes you a true Army is respecting ALL SEVEN of those boys and all of their decisions. Musical or personal.

*******EDITED TO CLARIFY AND ELABORATE ON CERTAIN POINTS.

alright, alright…I guess I’ll share my completely unsolicitied voltron/a:tla headcanons ((please feel free to add on to this if you want I would love it so much))

it’s long and detailed so I’ll spare your dash (I say to my four followers) and put it under the cut

BUT!!!! if you skip to the end there’s ember island stuff and I know u wanna see that so

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Prompt - WinterIron, Vampire!Bucky, Human!Tony

Prompt: ‘’Soo, since you’re taking prompts I was wondering if you’d be willing to write some WinterIron with Vampire!Bucky trying to woo the adorable but completely clueless Human!Tony? (With the added difficulty that vampires do not lie or evade truths when they’re wooing as a sign of respect for their intended?)’’

Sooooo, I doubt that it’s exactly what you wanted, but my brain kind of went away with this version and I just followed, because it was really fun to write.

Hope you like it anyway :)



Tony was drunk. Which, okay, it was probably not very surprising, after all it was pretty well-known that alcohol and him were pretty much best friends.

But he was maybe slightly more drunk than he had thought, because. Because. There was a guy in front of him and- he was wearing a silver cape. And not like, the kinda-fashionable capes that you payed a fortune to wear - and that were ugly as fuck - oh, no, a full-on medieval cape, with mysterious scarlet patterns on it and a freakingly huge collar.

“What the FUCK?!?” Tony exclaimed, maybe - just maybe - slightly louder than was recommended when it was 3AM and you were on a residential street. But fuck, the guy was wearing a cape, and Tony had always felt a bit of compassion for Vernon Dursley.

He could hear the guy mumble something which sounded very much like “shit” and then he turned around and Tony just wanted to emphasize that his initial reaction was probably the most appropriate one.
Because, first, the guy was extremely handsome - tall, muscular, beautiful red mouth, longish hair well-cut: he checked all the cases in Tony’s perfect man profile. But well, the slight problem was, that his skin sparkled and… were his eyes red?
Oh no, Tony was going to die. Either assassinated in a street next to a pile of garbage and a dozen of rats, by the sound of it; or because of alcohol intoxication, because even during his wildest years, he had never ever drank enough to see a creepy guy impersonating Dracula.

(Mind the ‘’Keep Reading!)

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