neon green shirt

Here’s an unsolicited headcanon that literally nobody asked for:

I’m a big proponent of the idea that to make your relationship a healthy one, you’ve got to accept the fact that sometimes the person you love is going to be petty. Sometimes you’re going to be petty. We’re all petty sometimes.

But Viktor and Yuuri are petty in very different ways.

Viktor is petty in that he still says things like, “You just wouldn’t understand,” instead of trying to explain himself because that’s what he went so long doing. He also has a bad habit of taking it personally when Yuuri doesn’t comment positively on a new shirt or pair of pants. And, of course, like Yuuri and his Bad Tie, Viktor is constantly running a monologue under his breath about the bad fashion choices of those around him.

“Orange is not your color, honey,” Viktor mumbles under his breath, referring to a woman walking past them wearing an orange-paisley pantsuit.

Even Yuuri can agree that it’s hideous, but he’s not sure why Viktor feels the need to point it out. Someday, somehow, someone is going to hear him, and he’s going to have to talk a person out of punching his husband in the face.

“You did a spread in Teen Vogue where you wore safety-monitor-orange pants and a neon green shirt,” Yuuri tells him, remembering it vividly because it was horrible and awful but that didn’t stop fourteen-year-old Yuuri from keeping it shoved under his pillow for…purposes.

“Ugh,” is Viktor’s succinct reply.

Viktor being petty about fashion makes sense to Yuuri, though. In a weird sort of way.

Likewise, it makes sense to Viktor that Yuuri is petty about food.

See, this is a learning curve for Viktor because his Yuuri is a sweet, beautiful and loyal person but he would probably get into a physical fight with someone over his favorite foods? Like, the first time Viktor eats the last of Yuuri’s favorite frozen yogurt Yuuri won’t let him touch him when they go to bed. 

This is such an odd concept for Viktor because his whole life it’s been like, “Oh? You want some of my food? Yes, here!” If it will make someone happy, Viktor would forfeit his favorite part of any dish so that a person he loves could have a moment of joy.

Yuuri on the other hand, sometimes warily stares at Viktor for a full ten seconds before allowing him to reach in and grab a (Small, Viktor) handful of the chips he’s eating.

“We’re married,” Viktor pouts, munching slowly on the four (4) whole cheesy poofs Yuuri allowed him.

“And?” Yuuri says, staring with determination at the television.

“I promise to love and support–”

“I am loving and supporting you,” Yuuri says. “You’re not married to my cheesy poofs. They don’t have to.”

This is the point at which Viktor usually lunges for the bag, and the aforementioned physical fight usually happens. Yuuri and Viktor usually look up from the subsequent heavy petting session twenty minutes later to realize that Makkachin has eaten the remaining chips and is now walking around with the bag on his head, bumping into the walls.

I’ve discovered today that there are two different ways that I really like certain outfits:

“This looks really good and I feel really good wearing it and I can’t stop smiling in it”


“This looks like an absolute disaster and I am unstoppable in it”


Dating Park Jihoon can be… challenging. Especially when he’s on a mission to prove to the nation that he’s not the fashion terrorist that they make him out to be.

  • pre-established relationship
  • fluff lol
  • for anon: “ can u do a scenario where he’s sulky bc everyone calls him a fashion terrorist and his girlfriend comforts him bc she thought he looked cute too “

“-and they’re saying that the fluorescent sneaker laces were a bad idea, um, no? Fluorescent sneaker laces make me stand out!” Jihoon ranted, pacing back and forth in front of you as you watched in mild amusement whilst checking a few emails for work. “And the stupid chili pepper sweater was a statement piece. Does Korea not understand what a statement piece is? And don’t get me started on the watch, it’s futuristic fashion—babe, are you even listening?”

You looked up from the email you had been writing, “yes, dear, I’ve been listening to you rant for the last ten minutes about you being a salty bitch for being called a fashion terrorist.”

“I have a right to be a salty bitch!” Jihoon threw his hands up before digging his phone out, showing you a picture that a fansite had posted, “is this not high fashion?” You smiled at the picture of him in his famous chili pepper sweater.

“I think you look cute, dear,” you said with a smile, patting the couch next to you, “come watch Criminal Minds with me.”

Jihoon plopped down on the couch next to you, curling up as you switched tabs to Netflix, going to the episode that you and Jihoon had left off on.

As the next episode started, you settled in, reaching for Jihoon’s hand.

“Oh, and the mustard shirt with the plaid overshirt was an entirely strategic fashion decision!” Jihoon fumed, bolting up again to continue ranting.

“Not now, dear,” you soothed, patting your fussy boyfriend on the back, getting him to settle down and watch the show again. Really, dating Jihoon was like dating a large grumpy baby.

“I actually cannot believe you’re making me do this,” you grumbled, lifting up Jihoon’s iPhone to snap another picture of him posing in front of the blank wall in your bedroom.

“What?” he sniffed, “I need to reclaim my position as a fashion-forward individual.”

You clicked the button again, snapping the twenty-seventh picture of Jihoon in his neon green t-shirt, black jeans, sneakers, and of course, his signature chili pepper cardigan.

Once he was satisfied with the pictures, he uploaded a few to SNS, returning to your bed, grabbing the laptop to start up yet another episode. The two of you got through a few episodes, Jihoon resting his head in your lap as you played with his hair.

Suddenly his phone rang, and he pulled out his iPhone, swiping to accept the call.

“Hyung, you might want to check what’s trending on Naver,” Daehwi said timidly, and Jihoon grabbed the laptop, checking the site. When he saw what was trending, he wailed loudly, turning to look at you miserably. You checked it as well, chuckling as you kissed him quickly, trying to get him to calm down.

“Fashion Terrorist Park Jihoon Returns With a New Look… Five Months Early?”

for clarification, the reason why the headline said “five months early” is because he was wearing a red sweater and green shirt– christmas colors

also, i don’t think that the chili pepper sweater outfit was that bad, but his outfit for the first time the trainees performed nayana made me actually cringe, because a graphic mustard t-shirt and a checkered blue and white flannel don’t go together, no matter how nice your face is

sorry fam

All Bottled Up

Here’s Part 2!

Part 1:

“We really should’ve let the cookies cool down.” Keith said, lifting the ice cream sandwich to hus mouth before it drips to the couch.

“Ya think?” Lance laughed on the floor, fervently licking at his hand for every drip of the melting ice cream.

“You guys stick with your ice cream, while I enjoy my doughy, warm goodness.” Shiro gave up on the ice cream sandwich and grabbed a bowl from the counter. There he dunk his share of the cookies and mashed them together. He ate the warm cookies with a spoon and seemed content with it.

“I have an idea!” Lance crawled towards them, grabbing the tub of ice cream on the table and his share of warm cookies. He kneeled in front of them on the couch and waved for Shiro to hand over his bowl.

“What are you planning, Lance.” Shiro raised a brow at Lance, refusing to hand over his bowl. He saw the mischievous glint of Lance’s eyes, he knows the idea was a bad one.

Lance rolled his eyes at him. “Keeeeith, your boyfriend won’t hand his goods!” Lance whined, pawing at Keith’s shoulder.

“Pfft, Lance, you can’t just say things like that!” Keith laughed, burrowing even deeper on Shiro’s chest. They occupied much of the couch’s space where Shiro sat at the corner and Keith languidly leaning on Shiro’s side with his feet on the remaining space.

They look comfy, Lance thought as he tried to grab Shiro’s bowl.

“No! You’re gonna ruin it with your ice cream!” Shiro refused to hand over the bowl, enjoying the way Lance tried to reach for it.

Shiro has to admit that it was fun hanging out with Lance. It was like he was friends with him too.

They’ve been eating cookies and ice cream for a while now, and he very much enjoyed Lance’s company. Of course it’s also a plus how Lance made Keith smile. He can see now that Keith and Lance truly had years of friendship connecting them in a way that it’s fascinating to watch. Whenever Keith would recall a certain event in their younger years, Lance would smile wide and continue the story with much enthusiasm that all you could do was listen and smile back.

Given the fact that they had a rocky reunion, you wouldn’t know that they just had a confrontation a while ago with the way they were talking to each other. Keith was relaxed in his arms, laughing and eating melting ice cream. That’s all he could ask for.

“Cmon, Shiro. Pleeease?” Lance leaned in further, his hand digging on the sofa’s surface between his legs and his chest near his. His face was close too and he was struck with how blue his eyes were.

Keep reading

Marco Confesses All
Brian H. Kim
Marco Confesses All

From Star vs. the Forces of Evil - Naysaya. Oh I loved this scene. As a teenager I was super uncomfortable in my own skin, not really sure if people liked me because I was useful (I got good grades and helped a lot of people with homework, and I played piano for a lot of stuff) or if because they actually liked me or if they just pretended to like me and actually thought I was pathetic, etc. I had crushes on girls who most definitely did not have crushes on me. There is an AMAZING photo of me dressed in a neon green shirt and neon orange shorts with a fanny pack and huge glasses, standing in front of a jet fighter because I guess that’s what people did in the 90s?

Anyway, this episode is near and dear to me, in a similar way that Sleepover is, because I think it distills the insecurity of teen years and cleverly breaks down the walls that a lot of us put up at that age to protect ourselves from getting hurt. Marco has no choice but to allow himself to be hurt, and it works out for him. 

Hell grown-ass adults put up walls too. I think a little Naysaya would be helpful every now and then.

Not on job interviews, though.

Jacksepticeye Fluffy college AU

Reader Insert

990(ish) words

     You hurry along the sidewalk, pulling your jacket closer to your chest. It was no match for the chilly Irish wind, but you were too stubborn to go back to your dorm and change. Shoving your hands in your pockets and blowing a h/c tuff of hair from in front of your face, you quicken your pace, hoping to warm up.
     It was a beautiful morning, bright and sunny, the sky more blue than it had been in weeks. When you looked outside the window not long ago it seemed so warm out. It had been a lie, it was colder then it has been all month. You pout, eyes on your feet as you walk, watching your shoes hit the ground. You’ve only been in Ireland a few months, studying abroad, and in that time you had thought you had gotten used to the weather. You, in fact, had not.
     "Y/n!“ You look up from your feet, then around until your e/c eyes meet crystal clear blue ones.
     "Oh, hey Jack.” You beam a smile at your friend, straightening your back and running a hand through your hair as you watch the green haired man lightly jog towards you. “Having a good morning?” You question as he closes the last few feet between the two of you. He’s in a grey hoodie, zipped up all the way with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and dark jeans. He looked amazing, as always.
     "It’s a beautiful day of course I am!“ His naturally loud voice is filled with excitement and it makes you laugh. "Much too beautiful a day to spend inside listening to a lecture.” He smiles, and it’s then you notice the dark, wicker pic-a-nic basket in his hands.
     "What are you suggesting, Mr. McLoughlin?“ You raise an eyebrow and he grins.
     "A pic-a-nic in the park.” He holds up the basket and you snort out a single laugh.
     "Jack, you know how many notes we take in lector days. If we skip today we’ll be playing catch up till Halloween" You respond.
     "We will not, i’m getting Markimoo to record the whole thing for us. We can watch it later from the comfort of your dorm. It’ll be like the worst movie night ever.“ He smiles and can’t help but do the same. "So, whatta you say?” He holds out a hand. Pressing your lips together into a line, you study him for a few moments, then take his hand and smile. His smile widens and he laughs, turning and leading you away from the school.
     "So, what have you packed for our meal in the park?“ You question, falling into step next to him as he lets your hand slip from his.
     "The good stuff.” He replied, winking at you. You laugh and roll your eyes, mostly concerned but also worried about what was inside the wicker confines of the basket. You felt a similar feeling when you first met Jack, moths ago inside your dorm. He had been playing hide and seek drunk and somehow ended up in your room.      You let him sleep on your floor, and that morning he made chocolate chip waffles. You’ve been friends ever since.
     The walk to the small park is filled with light and casual conversation, and a few selfies from both parties. In the shade of a few big trees, you help Jack spread out a blanket with an anime character on it. When it is done you drop your backpack and practically flop on the ground, letting out a painful sound as a tree root hits your tail bone.
     Jack laughs, after making sure your okay, then sits next to you with the basket on his lap. He looks at you, faking seriousness, and places his hands on the lid.
     "Do you know what the good stuff is?“ He asks, his blue eyes narrowing.
     "Cakes and cookies?” You answer his question with another.
     "Cakes and cookies.“ He repeats, smiling and flipping the lid open. You laugh, sitting up so your leg rests against his. "For you.” He hands you a large, flat box and you raise an eyebrow at him. Taking and opening the box, you look inside in confusion.
It was a single cookie, the size of your outstretched hand. And in frosting, your favorite color frosting, is says in loopy handwriting Look left.
     You look at Jack, who’s sitting on your left, and find that he’s unzipped his jacket, holding it open so you can see the neon green shirt he wore under it. On the shirt, in black sharpie, it said Will you date be my girlfriend??
Date was crossed out with one line, making it still very readable. You hold back a laugh, very aware this was not the time to start that but almost unable to keep it back.
     "Y/n are you gonna cry?“ Jack asks, letting his jacket go so the sides fall over some of the words and putting a hand on your knee.
You shake your head and look down at your knees, your jaw shaking with smothered laughter.
     "If you don’t want to you can just say no you don’t have cry-” He trails off as you meet his eyes, a face splitting smile crosses your features.
     "I would love nothing more than to date be your girlfriend.“ You fall into a gut wrenching laughing fit and he does the same, holding his sides.
     You end up laying on your back, face red and out of breath from laughing. Jack lays next to you, the occasional laugh still slipping from his lips. He slips his hand into yours, lacing your fingers together.
     "I love you.” You turn to look at him to find his gorgeous eyes already on you.
     "I love you too.“ You respond, cheeks red for another then just the laughing fit you had finished not long ago.

Well this photo came out kinda crappy and I think I cropped it to a weird size but I felt like shit and did not want to re-take it.  So here you are.

[Image description: one full-body photo of a young woman (me) with dark red hair that is braided into pigtails.  I am holding a metallic pink cane in my left hand.  I have on a bright (but not neon) green T-shirt that says, “My other disability is a bad attitude” on it in plain, black letters.  It is tucked into a plain black A-line skirt that ends a few inches above my knees.  I’m also wearing green socks that have vegetables like carrots, onions, mushrooms, etc. on them.  I have on my black, lace-up oxfords.  I’m wearing square blue earrings and black lipstick.  As always, I have on my round silver glasses.]

the signs as white suburban moms
  • aries: "fight me helen, i know my son is better at soccer than yours"
  • taurus: "why didn't my dessert sell the most at my daughter's 5th-grade bake sale? i'm suing the school"
  • gemini: "what is twerking? i want to know what that is. i'll try it to impress my teenage kids"
  • cancer: "family bonding time! we're going to disney land and i got us all matching neon green t-shirts! we'll take a picture at every ride! so much fun!"
  • leo: *wears the current teenager fashion* "i'm with it, i'm hip, i'm the cool mom"
  • virgo: "connor, clean your room or you get no tv for a week. i swear to god this household is a mess"
  • libra: "how was school today, meaghan? yolo swag, am i right? you're the chillest daughter ever. blaze the 420, lol"
  • scorpio: "gretchen, hold my purse while i fight this bitch"
  • sagittarius: "kids, don't do so much homework. here, play video games and sneak out instead! want some of my vodka?"
  • capricorn: "i'd like to speak to your manager"
  • aquarius: "does anyone want to join my book club? we can read the sisterhood of the traveling pants"
  • pisces: *watches soap operas and goes on facebook too much*

this is kinda like the way i find myself standing a lot when ppl come into the bookstore i work at; I’m generally not v aware of my posture/body language but i noticed myself doin this kinda raptor hands thing today and i think i do it often.

[image description: a person with dark medium length hair, wearing a neon green shirt and a black cardigan and headphones is holding his hands up close to his chest, almost like a raptor. End description.]

Lap Dance?

Prompt: Imagine having to go under cover as a stripper and giving Reid a lap dance.

Pairing: Spencer x Reader

Warnings: Well a lap dance and other things ;)

Word Count: 2,294

I feel like there are many correction to be made tbh….

I’ll ‘try’ to fix them later ;)


Lap Dance?

Keep reading

brit-the-amazing  asked:

Hello! (^-^) I was wondering... what would make the BTT boys blush? (Involving their s/o)

(Keeping it SFW here and going with the ‘cute’ sense)

Spain/Antonio Fernandez Carriedo: The best way to make Spain blush is to do literally anything he finds cute. Which is, practically everything his s/o does. Seriously though, he’d be going about with his daily business, his s/o will walk into the room, he’d engage them in casual conversation and just one laugh, at the right moment, with the right amount and angle of sunlight falling on their face, and he looks like Roma- I mean, a tomato.

Prussia/Gilbert Beilschmidt: Prussia is thick-skinned enough that even his s/o standing on a table and yelling that they love him will only elicit a grin and obnoxious laugh from him. Actually, what makes him blush are the small things that his s/o do for him. Staying up late at night to wait for him to come home, greeting him every morning with a kiss, stuff that most don’t see as anything big mean the world to him.

France/Francis Bonnefoy: France is more likely to blush out of embarrassment than anything adorable that his s/o might do. For example, that one time they decided to wear a blindingly bright neon green t-shirt and striped yellow pants on one of their dates. Let’s just say France was this close to imitating the ostrich.

RP-Sentence Starters

“Here, have some water.”

“I don’t want to see it.”

“I think I smell smoke.”

“Someone broke all the windows!”

“That was cold.”

“How can you even sleep in here?”

“Okay, whose idea was that?”

“It doesn’t look that bad.”

“Quick, catch it!”

“Shit, sorry about that.”

“Have you seen anyone wearing a neon green shirt running past here?”

“I’m not here to be your friend.”

“I’m pretty sure we forgot something…”

“You seriously need a haircut.

“Your hair smells great! New shampoo?”

“I’m not crying, it’s the allergies.”

“Why would anyone set a trap here of all places?!”

“They took my wallet and phone!”

“I never thought I would have to do something like this.”

“Look, the sky is so beautiful tonight.”