I still haven’t calmed down from the madness (lbr I never will) but I’m going to try to put some thoughts together. I’m sorry if this will be a mess but I try.
I was there for the whole of it. Well, I wasn’t there when the videos were shown or the manga pages were translated, but I was there when denkimouse started tweeting about it and then I stayed up all night with my internet friends screaming about it here on tumblr (#ripmynotificatons2k17). I saw us all freaking out and I still am freaking out because HOLY SHIT YOI DID THAT. They actually did that.
As a fandom, it’s really normal and expected and amazing that we focus on a ship we all well, most of us love. The first leaked screenshots were understandably about Otabek ripping Yuri’s glove off jesus i still can’t believe he.did.that. and I know for a fact that that’s the most shocking thing about this whole WttM deal and that’s all I’ll talk about probably for the rest of my life (unless the movie outdoes it, which knowing the YOI creators…………I’m honestly shaking at the thought of what they might bring us).
I know we also saw it as a very sexual act and tbh there’s no denying it is (that is not to say that I think it’s canon that they have or will have sex pre or post exhibition skate, but I do believe that shoving your freaking finger in someone else’s mouth the way Yuri did is a really intimate act that you just don’t do with someone you’re just friends with -unless I’m the weird one and everyone else does that, which I’m pretty sure they don’t).
So with a reminder that a ship being canon (which I fully believe Otayuri is as of today) doesn’t mean that the characters have had or are having sex (or kissing, or anything at all), I’d like to point out that watching the video of Yuri’s exhibition skate I’m also really, really happy that that part only takes up only mere seconds of Yuri’s skate.
Let me elaborate.
The whole point of WttM is for Yuri to fix his public image as a skater because he was sick and tired of being remembered as the prima ballerina who only skates to classical music (see the first scans of the manga that were leaked a few days ago, with newspaper headlines focusing on that), and most of all he didn’t want his free skate (that he isn’t fully satisfied with) to be what people talk about, and his tears to be the most shocking thing that happened on the ice (if you ask me, him breaking Victor’s world record is already pretty shocking and amazing, but I believe this is a case of Yuri being an unreliable narrator here -which most teens are).
So I’m glad that Yuri, even with a serious case of crushing on Otabek Altin hard, didn’t linger with his fingers in Otabek’s mouth, didn’t change his choreography to make his skate more sexual than it already was, didn’t waste precious seconds of skating routine for the sake of a boy he’s crushing on. Even mere seconds of that were enough anyway, to shock the audience (both the skating fans within the anime and us YOI fans) and give people something to talk about other than his tears the previous day, and then he simply kept skating, with his heart pounding because holy shit I can’t believe I just did that, I actually felt the inside of Otabek’s mouth but it was just a second and now I’m here and I need to show them how good I am, with this choreography and this song that I made with my new best friend/crush.
Yuri’s character has always been about his skating and with Otabek’s arrival in ep10 we started seeing that he can be about much more, and WttM definitely showed us even more of that, but it also showed us that Yuri didn’t change from one day to the other. He is still mostly about skating and shocking his audience (something very Victor-like), and I’m glad the creators didn’t sacrifice his character for the sake of fanservice.
Once again, the YOI staff did nothing wrong in my eyes and I can’t even begin to express how grateful I am.
→ Genre: Angst, action, fluff, mature (mentions of blood, wounds, medical jargon) (smut in future chapters)
→ 3.2k words
→ Summary: hitman!jeongguk and medstudent!Y/N bestfriends!au; Jeongguk always shows up to your place or hospital whenever he gets hurt because you guys are best friends and you patch him up, but he has no idea that every time you stitch up his wounds, it tears open new wounds in your own heart.
“You’re seriously sitting here scared of a tiny needle when you have a goddamn 9mm bullet embedded in your proximal deltoid muscle?!” He grinned, “Old habits die hard. And damn, I could get used to how hot you are with med words.”
@sanjaplavsic: Hi! :) I love your writings.. Can you do some Daryl x reader fic where he is afraid of love, but cares about her. She is younger ( a lot, and that’s an issue for him). But she confronts him or help him when he is in bad shape, and then they kiss, it gets fluffy, Daryl admits that he is crazy about her…(maybe some making love, her first). Tnx 💘💘💘
Hope you like it ♥♥
WARNINGS: SMUT (Virginity loss, so it will be sweet), FLUFF, A LITTLE ANGST; READER IS YOUNGER THAN DARYL BUT STILL LEGAL.
ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE SO, SORRY FOR EVENTUAL ERRORS.
So you know you’re REALLY special when someone who never - ever - makes a post, or finishes any kind of writing and prefers to stick to behind-the-scenes beta-ing goes full out and does a one shot for you!
I know it’s not on YOUR level, but in my defense, i didn’t have a beta as good as you do ;) I hope you enjoy it!! @the-captains-ayebrows
Birthday Fic based on this prompt;
“I’m on a date at a hockey game and my date is being a douche. Now we’re on the kiss cam, but hes on his phone, so i’m just going to kiss you instead, okay?”
“Great!” Emma huffed, as she slammed her battery depleted phone down onto her thigh. The impact made her skin sting under her jeans. Taking a deep breath, she rolled her eyes at the fact that – apparently - iPhone batteries don’t do so well in near-frigid temperatures. The motion caused her to catch a glimpse of Neal to her right. In his worn jersey puffed up atop layers of thermal clothing and backwards baseball cap, perched on the edge of the hard, cold, plastic arena seat he was every bit the Hockey Fan she decidedly was not.
not to be corny but i love dirk strider? emotionally constipated, somber, smug, doesnt know how the fuck to maintain a conversation without making it about himself somehow, ugly ass, reads wikipedia for fun, probably genuinely thinks theres something cool about those fucking shades, sword liker, gay ass, doesnt know how to dress himself, grown ass sesame street watching, with the fingerless gloves too jesus, thinks self-identifying as “gay” is passé but hes not so above it that he wont put a fucking gay pride flag with a cartoon horse on it right next to his computer so he gets to look at it every day, dickhead mother fuck of a shit. i would say this is the worst post ive ever made but i have made some very bad ones, however, this is definitely up there
Being the First Openly Gay Prince - capital letters required - has its perks (sex with whoever he wants whenever he wants, his own OUT cover, last week Neil Patrick Harris shook his hand and called him an inspiration, shit like that) and its downsides. The 21st birthday party where he’s essentially being publicly courted by a million potential future suitors at once is absolutely a downside.
And he has to wear a tux, which is honestly just never okay.
Lip’s the heir, right, the one who’s going to continue the bloodline, the one who likes what he’s supposed to like, so Ian doesn’t see why this is even necessary. No one’s really given him much of a reason beyond “it’s what we do, Ian.”
His siblings flag him all night, sending the particularly weird ones away - except that duke’s nephew who only speaks Portuguese that sneaks up on him when Lip and Carl are in the bathroom and Fiona’s helping Debbie fix the heel on her shoe. It could be a lot worse.
“We’re at the halfway point here, man,” Lip says, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “You only have, what, two? Three thousand more dudes to turn down?”
“You’re not funny,” Ian says, staring miserably into his champagne glass. He really fucking hates champagne. “At all. Ever.”
“No,” Lip agrees, leaning in close and opening his palm under the table. There’s a joint in his hand. Ian could kiss him.
“I could kiss you,” Ian says.
“Buy me dinner first,” Lip replies, getting to his feet and nodding his head towards the exit. He steers Ian across the floor and through the throng of people, making half-hearted excuses every time someone tries to stop them.
They cut across the sprawling lawn and climb over the back gates, like they used to when they were teenagers, walking until they can’t hear the noise of the party behind them. Lip’s lighting up before they even stop walking, and Ian’s opening his mouth to speak when he literally crashes into someone.
“What the fuck -“
"Sorry, I -”
Ian takes a step back, getting a good look at the guy in front of him. He’s hastily stomping his cigarette out on the ground while simultaneously trying to fix his tuxedo jacket. “Nah, nah, it’s fine,” he says, looking up. His eyebrows raise when he, apparently, recognizes Ian. “Your Highness,” he adds, smirking a little as he turns away, already walking back towards the reception before Ian can think of a response.
Lip whistles lowly behind him. “Damn.”
“Shut up,” Ian says, grabbing the joint out of his mouth.
A man wearing white gloves - Jesus fucking Christ - somehow manages to finagle him into a dance the second he and Lip step back inside. In both of their defenses, it’s pretty hard to remember the refusal techniques your older sister taught you that morning when you’re high off your ass.
He’s making awkward conversation and desperately hoping the guy somehow can’t smell the weed on him when they come to an abrupt halt and a vaguely familiar voice says, “Okay, Disney hands, time’s up.”
The guy steps away, confused, and Cigarette Boy steps forward, holding a hand out that Ian takes. He looks vaguely uncomfortable and out of place in his tux, but he’s smiling a little and he doesn’t look at his feet as they dance, which is always a plus.
“Yeah,” he says, shrugging. “‘Cause of the white gloves. Disney hands.“
Ian nods. “Nice. Your timing is unbelievable, by the way, thank you.”
"You got it, Your Highness.”
“Wow. You’re full of jokes, huh?”
"Come on, that one was good.”
“Too easy,” Ian says around a laugh. “Maybe just call me Ian from now on.”
He nods. “Yeah. I’m Mickey.”
“Like the mouse. See, that was a callback to the Disney hands joke -”
“Oh my god.”
One of Ian’s hands sits low on Mickey’s back, too low for this setting, probably, but Mickey doesn’t say anything about it, just meets his eyes and raises a silent eyebrow at Ian like well?
He inclines his head a bit, and he’s sure his intentions are clear, which is why he doesn’t understand the way Mickey suddenly jerks in his arms, his neck snapping up so quickly that they almost smack foreheads.
"May I?” It’s some dude Ian doesn’t recognize, and he wants to say no, you fucking can’t, can you not see we’re in the middle of something but he can’t, so he doesn’t, and he lets Mickey step back.
Mickey gives him a little smile and Ian watches him disappear into the crowd over the new guy’s shoulder.
I was gonna post this at a normal time tomorrow but I couldn’t stop myself. Probably gonna post some art for this in the next couple days. Read chapter below or on FFN here or below, and from the beginning here
“Are you sure you won’t come to church?” Victoria asks for the fourth time over brunch. “I’m sure everyone would love to see you, and meet Maka.”
“I don’t go to church, mum, and I saw plenty of people over Christmas – could probably go without seeing anyone for another year and a half.” Soul stuffs another bite of eggs into his petulant face.
“Don’t say that,” Victoria snips. “Well, at least do something productive with your day instead of lounging around. Maka?”
Maka wonders if this is how Soul feels whenever her parents ask his opinion about her personal life. “I’ll stay here,” she says in a half whisper.
Soul’s mother squints, and Maka can see her mulling over whether to push about Soul any further. They’d had quite a talk about that already – Victoria had admitted she has a tendency to get overbearing, the empty threat about tuition money being a prime example. Maka could understand to a point; she could be like that too, but not to the same degree (she hopes anyway.) Victoria closes her mouth, collects her coat and purse with no further comment, and leaves, trailed by Robert and Wes.
Soul heaves a deep sigh, leaning back in his chair. “Free at last.”