look at me write

Hands down my favourite part of Yuri On Stage

Many thanks to @thatshamelessyaoishipper for subbing the entire section. 

This line of dialogue (spoken by Yurio) is genuinely so important to our understanding of Viktor’s character. It’s fair to say that a lot of us kind of view his character as lovable, childlike, and whimsical, and that isn’t wrong. But this proves it, he’s only like that around Yuuri, according to somebody who has known him for three years or so at an absolute minimum. 

This is the Viktor Nikiforov without Yuuri, the one the majority of people know. This is the Viktor Nikiforov who sits alone in parks in the snow, with only his dog for comfort, as he contemplates how his life even turned up like that.  

I know this is a particularly bad moment, to be fair, but just look how miserable he looks. 

Even here, he just looks so bored and serious. 

This is Viktor without Yuuri for what? Three days?

The actual effect Yuuri had on Viktor’s life is astounding. With Yuuri, Viktor learnt to let everything go and just be him, rather than his more restrained and serious self, morphing into the usual personality we see and love for the duration of the anime. 

All I can picture is the first day Viktor and Yuuri start training again at the rink in St Petersburg, and are absolutely gobsmacked to witness Viktor smiling, laughing, with his arms draped around Yuuri like he’s a buoyancy aid. Quiet, serious Viktor Nikiforov actually looking like he’s enjoying his day. He’s the opposite of the kind of man who would tickle someone publicly, but there he is, chasing Yuuri Katsuki around the rink like a five year old. It’s like some kind of bizarre dream. Even Yakov would have to admit that Yuuri’s presence has transformed him. 

And perhaps Yakov even asks him once, unable to help himself, where Viktor suddenly got so much inspiration from, after so many years of misery. 

The only answer he gets, as Viktor starts to walk away, is “he gave me his love, Yakov.” 

You kissed me like you planned on doing it again
but you tasted like the kind of person
who doesn’t know how to stay

and I think I could tell what you were thinking the moment you fell asleep that night
I remember waking up so god damn early that morning and I spent hours while you were asleep hopingprayingwishing that you’d wake up and smile at me the way I needed you to

But something cracked and changed
whoever you were before that night didn’t stay
the moment you woke up that morning
you looked away

I guess what I’m trying to explain
is that people like you break hearts
and never know how to mean what you say
you act like you’re in it for the long haul and then it’s oh God can’t we just stay friends but I mean Jesus Christ friends don’t look at each other the way we did when we slept in each other’s beds

so it’s not you and me anymore you know
it’s you me and everything
we don’t know how to say to each other

so we hold it together in the way we never touch;
we hold it together in the way we stay
just friends
if staying friends means seeing each other
in familiar places and laughing and smiling
like you didn’t tear this to pieces

—  you didn’t even have to explain

Open all your windows, let the sunshine in and put on your comfiest clothes and start throwing away everything you don’t need anymore. Pile up the clothes you haven’t worn in months and donate them. Do the same with books, jewelry, shoes, blankets, furniture, etc. Vacuum, make your bed, turn on your favorite tunes and sing them loudly. Drink lots of water in between verses and make yourself a nice lunch. Enjoy every bite. Buy a new shirt or piece of art online. It’ll give you something to look forward to this week but remind yourself there are a lot of things to look forward to. We live in a world where there are still mountains that haven’t been climbed, parts of the ocean that haven’t been discovered and there are lakes and rivers and animals that are evolving. And so are you. You’re going to be okay.

MLM Books by Male Authors

This isn’t a very long list; these are just the ones on my to-read list. Also, there are some works from the included authors that I have not listed because I haven’t looked too closely into their other books, or they aren’t up my alley genre-wise. If you don’t mind female authors or authors of any other genders, feel free to check out this list.

If you have more to add, feel COMPLETELY free to reblog and do so. 

  1. Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe by Benjamin Alire Sáenz
  2. Ash and Echoes; Ice and Embers; Iron and Ether; Cairn and Covenant; Calling and Cull; Wine and Roses (I don’t know exactly where this one fits in or if it does) by August Li
  3. At Swim, Two Boys by Jamie O’Neill
  4. The Beauty’s Brother by Leon Hart (read; ☆☆☆)
  5. Call Me by Your Name by André Aciman
  6. Captured Shadows by Richard Rider
  7. The Cat in the Cradle; From Darkness to Darkness by Jay Bell
  8. The Chosen; The Standing Dead; The Third God by Ricardo Pinto
  9. Dangerous Moonlight by Mel Keegan
  10. The Devil in the Dust; Tower of the King’s Daughter; A Dark Way to Glory (doesn’t say LGBT on Goodreads; unsure if it actually is); Feast of the King’s Shadow (doesn’t say LGBT on Goodreads; unsure if it actually is); Hand of the King’s Evil; The End of All Roads (doesn’t say LGBT on Goodreads; unsure if it actually is) by Chaz Brenchley
  11. Dreamer by Steven Harper
  12. An East Wind Blowing by Mel Keegan
  13. Fortunes of War by Mel Keegan
  14. The God Eaters by Jesse Hajicek (enjoying this one so far; not super far into it)
  15. Haffling by Caleb James
  16. The Lightning-Struck Heart by T.J. Klune
  17. The Lonely War by Alan Chin
  18. Lord Mouse by Mason Thomas
  19. Maurice by E.M. Forster
  20. Mordred, Bastard Son by Douglas Clegg
  21. One Man Guy by Michael Barakiva
  22. A Royal Affair; Aleksey’s Kingdom by John Wiltshire
  23. The Sallee Rovers; Men of Honor; Iron Men; Heart of Oak; Man in the Crescent Moon; The Sea Leopard by M. Kei
  24. Seidman by James Erich
  25. Shadowdance by Robin Wayne Bailey
  26. The Sheltered City by John Tristan
  27. The Steel Remains; The Cold Commands; The Dark Defiles by Richard K. Morgan
  28. The Still; The King by David Feintuch
  29. Thunderbolt: Torn Enemy of Rome by Roger Kean
  30. Two Boys Kissing by David Levithan
  31. Wingmen by Ensan Case

Listen  I know Yuuri is tiny and shy and precious, but he’s an athlete and I love the idea of him being unexpectedly physically strong. Also, he is strong already but he works out extra just because he realizes that Viktor really likes it when Yuuri scoops him up and carries him. Yuuri is small okay he’s got a slight build, so when he’s like “okay Vitya I’ll take you upstairs” to a drunk Viktor and just bends down to scoop him up bridal style, anyone in their vicinity will be like “what the fuck”. 

Also I don’t think for a minute that Viktor in general wouldn’t be super appreciative of Yuuri’s very toned and solid arms… he’ll drunkenly pat them with this pleased smile like “Wow! Yuuri you’re so strong! I love your muscles!”

Viktor internally is like “ah yes they’re perfect for carrying me around more”. Meanwhile tiny sweet boy Yuuri “I only lift weights so I can carry Viktor Nikiforov safe in my arms” is pleased with all of the attention because Viktor is just so appreciative and he can’t help but preen a little under the praise.

[yuri on ice blog: @viktorkatsuki]

Sometimes I hate being trans. A lot of the time, actually. While everyone else is moving forward, you’re feel like you’re waiting, waiting, waiting. For the next GIC appointment. For hormones to show any effect. For surgery. For the next surgery. For forms and reports and assessments to be filled out.

These things take weeks, months, years. Whole parts of your life get eaten away on waiting lists for services that are already stretched to their limit. And all the time you want everything to stop - to right itself in some magical overnight miracle. You spend nights crying and asking ‘why me?’ Why am I the one who has to be stuck here? 

But you will get there. I promise you. Nobody knows patience like us trans folk. We have to be strong, mentally, emotionally and physically, because we are forced to be by our very nature. It’s something huge to bear and it’s okay if you’re not always okay. It isn’t fun, and it isn’t fair. And it’s okay to grieve - for being born with the wrong parts, or for all the times that your body restricted you in life - for the things you wish you had. Grieve if you need to. 

There is light and dark to everything in life. Being trans is no exception. Keep going. Wait and fight and grieve and celebrate and live - in the way that only we trans people know how. 

You’ll come out stronger in the end.

tony stark, a certified baby-cuddler

everyone needs more tony and babies in their life, right? have a fic. because tony canonically goes to hospitals and hugs babies who need it. (for mobile users, there’s a read-more after a few paragraphs)


Tony Stark isn’t new to kids, not exactly.

He’s always tried to visit paediatric wards when he had a moment, letting the kids play with the armours and telling them stories. He helped Reed and Sue with babysitting, and he remembers Val’s first attempts at building microprocessors. He held a newborn Danielle Cage in his arms and he marvelled at how tiny she was. He’s always glad to help his baby Avengers with homework.

He likes kids. He might never have his own, and he tells himself he’s made his peace with that, but he likes kids and he likes spending time with them, from babies and toddlers to I’m-not-a-kid-anymore teenagers.

And the moments he spends with kids never get any less special.

Keep reading

WIP Ask Game
  • 1: Summarize your WIP in 10 words or less.
  • 2: Post a line from your WIP with no context.
  • 3: Does your WIP have a title? If so, explain its significance. If not, what are you calling it for now?
  • 4: Describe the setting of your WIP.
  • 5: Search for the word "knife" in your WIP. If you find it, paste the line and explain the context.
  • 6: Search for the word "dream" in your WIP. If you find it, paste the line and explain the context.
  • 7: What are you most proud of?
  • 8: What is your biggest challenge?
  • 9: How would you describe your writing style?
  • 10: How would you describe your WIP's narrative style? (1st person, 3rd person, multiple POVs, single POV, alternating chapters, etc.)
  • 11: Which character do you have the most in common with?
  • 12: Which character do you have the least in common with?
  • 13: Your characters are stranded on a deserted island. What happens?
  • 14: Have you chosen birthdays for any of your characters? If so, when are they?
  • 15: Do you know your characters' MBTI personalities?
  • 16: What would your characters be for Halloween?
  • 17: Does your WIP have any themes or motifs?
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  • 19: Post a picture or gif that describes your WIP.
  • 20: Post a brief excerpt.

Do you remember when you were a child

and your mother kept telling you

“Don’t look directly at the sun or you will go blind.”

?

Well, you are the sun.

And I keep looking, looking, looking,

Until my eyes burn and tears fall down my cheeks,

But I do not close my eyes.

You burn so brightly I can still see you clearly behind my eyelids when my night falls because I live for your light and I cannot let you go, and even if I will turn blind I want you to be the last thing I’ll ever see, your hand clasped in mine.

A love letter to you from the Moon, from Dionysus, from Grantaire.

Yellow

He’d guessed Draco’s favourite colour correctly the first try.

Truth be told, Draco never had a favourite colour to begin with. He’d never stopped long enough to think about it; it wasn’t as though it would ever be of any value. But, when he found himself sitting next to his loser of a boyfriend — the loser thing wasn’t so true, he loved Harry dearly — and talking to one of the Weasel’s offspring (“After two years of us dating, Draco, is it still necessary that you still name Ron that?”) who called him “Uncle Drake”, he found himself in a little bit of a predicament.

You see, they were colouring to begin with. Draco, with as much grace as a fully grown man could have, had crammed his limbs into a kiddy sized chair to join Harry who was helping the red-head colour a small picture of some miscellaneous magical object. The Gryffindor was dreadful at it, scribbling over the lines in a messy fashion; even the infant could colour better than him. The colouring (or scribbling, in Harry’s case) had eventually spiralled into mindless chit chat about whatever seemed to occupy the mini Weasley’s thoughts, leading to the inevitable questioning of: “Uncle Drake, what’s your favourite colour?”

The child had said it with so much curiosity, so much innocence, that Draco actually found himself thinking long and hard. Fortunately, though, his knight in muggle jogging bottoms stepped in to put him out of his misery, exclaiming happily that it was finally a question he knew the answer to. Draco looked to his lover and waited with his eyebrow raised.

The colour yellow didn’t have any significance until that moment. He’d actually thought of it as quite bland until he saw Harry, a shit eating grin spread across his face, announce definitively that yellow was Draco’s favourite colour. Suddenly, the colour yellow was brighter than before, more beautiful. The way Harry sat there, looking so elated and proud of himself — Draco loved him so much. He never saw the colour yellow the same way again.

I’ve been waiting to post this for ages so it could go up with the chapter it’s from and AT LAST!!! Happy Friday the 13th! (at least it is for me here)

My 2nd commissioned piece from @bev-nap who is a literal goddess among mortals. Look at this. Look at my grumpy son, isn’t he gorgeous?! I’m still squealing internally and externally over this and I don’t think I’ll be done anytime soon ^_^

2

@jaydickweek:  Talons/Court of Owls // Father Todd 

I know canon gives us formal and somber priest!Jason, but imagine snarky youth group minister Jason (a.k.a. my fave). No connection to Bruce or the afterlife, still the same snarky little shit he was as Robin. He’s a bit gruff because it wasn’t the joker that made him terrible at showing weakness, but he’s protective as hell. The kids fucking love him.

Well. 

Most kids. Most kids love him. 

And then there’s Damian. 

Little feral assassin Damian, fresh out of a disastrous first meeting with Daddy Bats, and he most definitely doesn’t love Jason. But Jason knows an abused kid who needs a way out when he sees one, even if that situation is way out of Jason’s league. 

Jason has just started making real progress when Talon shows up. Luckily, and to his very great surprise, Jason’s got Damian to protect him. Of course, then Damian gets attached. 

Fast forward, Damian rehabs Talon!Dick by taking the don’t-be-a-murderous-asshole lessons he learned from Jason 30 seconds prior and teaching them inexpertly to Talon. He gets confused and territorial when Youth Minister Jason and Talon start building their own connection, which may eventually go in a slightly unexpected direction.

a.k.a. makin’ out. ♥

Draco wasn’t breathing. 

Why wasn’t he breathing?

Had Harry done something wrong?

He tightened his grip around Draco, hugging him closer, closer, closer, breathing soft words of encouragement in his ear. “Please, baby,” Harry whispered, his heart hammering in his chest because why wasn’t Draco breathing? “Talk to me.” 

Draco jerked in his arms, as if slapped, and he choked back a sob, “I - I can’t -”

“I’m sorry -” Harry immediately said, kissing the top of Draco’s head. “You don’t need to do anything, baby, I’m sorry.”

He stayed silent, burying himself deep against Harry’s chest. Draco kept jerking in Harry’s arms, as if in war with himself, not sure if he wanted to bolt or get closer, closer, closer

Why was Draco crying?

“Did I do something wrong?” Harry tried tentatively after a while, rocking them from side to side. 

(What? It seemed to calm toddlers down - there was no reason why it wouldn’t do the trick for Draco.)

“No,” Draco whispered into his chest, heaving. “I - it’s my fault - I -”

“Your fault?”

Draco nodded. “I - I’m - you’re gay and I’m… I’m not a real boy -”

“Oh.”

So that was the problem. “Draco,” Harry started carefully, “you are. Just because you don’t have a cock -”

Draco giggled - hiccoughed a dry sob. “Vulgar.”

“Shut up,” Harry smiled. “I mean it, though. You’re a boy.”

“I’m not -”

“You are.” Harry said firmly, his grip on Draco so tight it might bruise. “I’m gay, you’re a boy -”

“Harry -”

“- and I am incredibly in love with you.”

“Oh,” Draco said, his breath hot on Harry’s neck. He was silent for a while, almost scarily still, until he slowly tilted his head to look up at Harry. His eyes were red, his cheeks wet with tears, and he had never looked more beautiful. “Oh,” he repeated, a smile breaking through. “I love you too.”

Harry kissed his nose. 

Partly because he knew it would make Draco giggle again.

Partly just because he could.

But mostly because, though still crying, Draco was breathing again.