The happiest man on Earth would look into the Mirror and see only himself, exactly as he is.“
6th year Scorbus comic based on @charamchadoo‘s short fic ‘Mirror’, where Scorpius and Albus stumble upon the Mirror of Erised. Please do go read the original piece, it flows a lot more naturally than this!
also that Invisibility cloak was ‘borrowed’ from James laughs
…I get goosebumps. He has a connection with the music and moves freely. He does everything, believing in what I say. He makes the process of choreography a really beautiful thing for me. ––– S.L.B.
Told from Shae-lynn Bourne’s perspective, a glimpse into Yuzuru the skater and Yuzuru the person. She also talks about choreographing for him and with him, and the bond they’ve forged. With her instinct to connect with both music and people, it’s clear how she and Yuzuru make a killer team. Alternatively––SLB is such a romantic (in the best way possible). She made the jump landings in SEIMEI2 really hard. She confirms he grew taller. - Gladi :P
SLB spoke with the press on Day 1 of the 2017-18 Season Media Day. The 15-minute interview in its almost-entirety was edited by Figure Skate Magazine (B.B.Mook 1383). Repeated QA’s were omitted.
Translated by gladi. Please do not repost without permission. Photos below were taken by Ryosuke Menjyu and belong to B.B.Mook.
A new SEIMEI with increased charm The year of reaching new heights
Although SEIMEI isn’t a completely new program, we’ve made modifications and added new appeal. It’s an improved, new SEIMEI. Of course the order of the elements has changed, so have the entries and difficulty of the elements, as well as the level of the content. It is Version 2, so to speak. I think this will become the final version.
I believe it was about a month after the World Championships. I wrote a message suggesting, “How about skating to SEIMEI?” I thought it was such a perfect fit for the Olympics. Afterwards, I was very glad when I learned of his choice.
I think it is the right plan.
Request: Could you write something about the reader being missing and jughead being really worried. And when he finds the reader they have a really romantic moment and he saves her. But not the typical kind of romance. A jughead kind of romance.
Warnings: Kidnapping, swearing
Word count: 2,728
A/N: Think Brandon’s piece he performs at Idyllwild (The Fosters). That’s the kind of good she’s playing here. I also tried third person so tell me what you think?? I also got very carried away, so I feel it deserves a second part, since i left the prompt kinda (okay very) unfinished. I can’t help myself, I love a good cliff hanger.
(Y/N) sits at home, playing the electric piano in her room. The grand piano downstairs isn’t tuned correctly, so she has to make due. College auditions are coming up, seeing as she’s a junior, and everything has to be perfect. She has at least three auditions for her top picks, and they are all a little less than two months away. She practices every day, for at least two hours a day with no distractions. Her parents barely even notice she’s there anymore, they’re so busy wrapped up in work and whatever else they have going on they couldn’t care less where she is or what she’s doing. They’re out of the house at bars and friends houses most of the weekday. It sounds worse than it actually is, this way, she can practice as loud as she wants anytime she wants without bothering anyone. She likes it like that.
She has the music laid out in front of her, but she barely needs to look at it, the piece flows out of her fingers from memory. Her eyes close ever so slightly, really feeling every note and rhythm.
“That’s a really fancy version of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star huh?” a voice makes her jump in her seat, causing her fingers to pound on a horrible combination of keys.
She turns her head to see none other than her best friend, and long-time secret crush Jughead Jones leaning on the window frame as he peeks in the room with his head.
“Actually that was Wheels on the Bus.” she mocks, smiling as she spins around on the piano bench, turning to face him, leaning her elbows on her knees.
She mentally kicks herself, because she almost forgot, it was Wednesday, the day that Jughead always comes to write his novel when she practices. He says her playing makes him write better, or something, but she can hardly believe it.
He climbs in through the open window and takes a seat on the bench right inside it, flopping his book bag on the floor as he does so.
“Well don’t let me interrupt.” He says, holding his hands up as he leans against the window frame before shoving them in his pockets, their usual location.
She can’t help but smirk as she turns back to the piano, placing her fingers lightly over the keys before picking up where she left off before she was so rudely interrupted.
She leans into your music this time, her whole body moving with the notes, and in that moment she could’ve stayed there forever, surrounded by the sound of keys filling the room. She almost forget someone is in there with her, before hearing a light clapping while hitting the last notes.
She lets out a breath, turning to see Jug smiling at her.
“That was good for a beginner.” he teases, getting up and motioning for her to move over.
She obeys, making room for him on the bench in front of the instrument.
He makes a big deal about cracking his knuckles and waving them a whole bunch before overdramatically placing them on the keys ‘delicately.’ She stifles a laugh, putting a hand over her mouth as she waits for what he’s going to do next.
He raises his hands ever so slightly before coming down fast, pounding several dissonant keys before continuing to play what she can only discern as some awful combination of the two mentioned kids songs.
Her hands reflexively go to Her ears, chuckling at his serious face while plays a few more chords, before he finishes with sliding his hand up to the highest note and back down again.
She slowly drops her hands, only slightly concerned he would continue.
“What, no applause?” he asks, giving her the side eye with a raised eyebrow.
“I think you should stick to the keys of the laptop variety.” She tells him, nudging his shoulder.
“Yeah, right.” he scoffs, getting up and going over to his backpack. He sits on the bench by the window again, pulling out his laptop and opening it, “The Jason Blossom case has stalled for the past few months. They haven’t found anything new. My novel has remained a blank page.” he says, looking at something on his laptop.
“Who cares what the cops are saying, weren’t you doing your own investigation with Betty?” she asks, trying not to sound too jealous or put any emphasis on the question. She has to remind herself that he’s allowed to hang out with other people besides her, even if that includes one of the most beautiful girls in school that she could never compete with.
She knows that he’s been investigating for a long time with her, but strangely he’s never talked about it that much. Her guess is that he doesn’t want to bother her with it, her focus being on music and all. She really wouldn’t mind hearing about it, though.
“Yeah, but that came to a screeching halt when we found the car on fire and Polly came home. She said she didn’t have time, but wished me luck.” he says, pulling up the document the novel is located in. Sure enough, it hasn’t been written in in a few weeks.
“You must have been getting close.” She says, taking the music off of the stand and putting it away in a folder on the floor next to her. She contemplates for a moment on the solution. Jughead is obviously very passionate about this, at least for the sake of his novel, and she doesn’t want him to stop something he loves doing. “What if I help you?” she proposes.
“What? (Y/N)? Really?” that gets him to look up, “but you have those auditions, I can’t rope you into all this.”
“Nonsense. I’ve practiced so much my hands might as well fall off and I’ll still be able to play.” She jokes, earning a small smile from her best friend, “come on, let me help.”
He sits and looks at your for a few moments, adjusting his beanie, a strand of his black hair falling to the side of his face as he does.
It seems like the silence goes on forever, when really it’s probably only a few seconds.
“Okay.” He finally says, “but only when you have actual freetime, not when you’re supposed to be practicing.”
“Deal.” she says with a smile, standing up to join him at the window, “when do we start?”
About two weeks later she is in full on investigation mode, while still practicing every day, her audition dates growing closer by the minute. Jughead still comes over every Wednesday, but she sees him a lot more often now. She’s not opposed, but their Wednesday sessions of just sitting with each other while she plays and he writes still hold a special place to her.
Today, in the early Monday afternoon, she’s in the room with all of the pictures and connections all over the wall, looking over the latest work. They were getting close, she could feel it.
“So he roped you into this?” She hears someone ask, looking over to see Betty, smiling as her hands are on her hips, raising her eyebrows.
You give her a half smile, “More like I volunteered.” she says with a shrug.
“Why?” Betty smirks, walking over, her blonde ponytail bouncing with the sway of her walk.
“I think you know.” (Y/N) says, crossing her arms in a light-hearted way.
“Enlighten me.” Betty gestures to the board, looking at it with (Y/N).
“I wanted to spend more time with him.” (Y/N) admits, a blush coming over her cheeks. She’s a bit surprised at herself for telling Betty this. They’re not really friends, (Y/N) only know her through Jug. It’s the honest truth, though, and it’s not incriminating for a girl to want to spend more time with her best friend. And a friend of Jug is a she could deal with, she tells herself. She only half believes it, though.
“He talks a lot about you.” Betty says, “he talks about the way you play, the jokes you guys make.” she has a sad smile over her face, like there was something she was just realizing.
“Well you guys are pretty close, too. He practically ditched me to hang out with you.” (Y/N) rebuttals, trying to not sound too sassy about it. She knew it wasn’t Betty’s fault, at least not completely.
Betty stands there, looking at the floor.
“What’s wrong?” (Y/N) asks, noticing Betty’s change in attitude almost immediately.
Betty takes a few breaths, closing her eyes, taking a few moments before responding, “We kissed.”
“What?” (Y/N) asks, turning towards her. A shock going through her system she wasn’t expecting. That can’t be possible, surely Jug would’ve told her something like that. Her vision begins to spin as she tries to process what she’s heard.
“I -we- Jug. I kissed him.” Betty says again, an apologetic look coming over her face, like she’s done something terribly wrong.
“Oh.” is the only thing that can come out of (Y/N)’s lips, her world shattering around her. There was a sliver of hope before today, just a small one that maybe he would like her back, but now… she wasn’t so sure.
“It was nothing, I swear.” Betty lies, trying to make it feel better, trying to erase the bomb she just gave (Y/N). Betty knows that what happened between her and Jughead was wrong in some capacity. Betty knew that deep down, Jughead wants (Y/N), but Betty can’t help her feelings.
“Sure.” (Y/N) says, brushing Betty aside as she walks out of the room and down the school steps. She needs to get away, she decides, just for today. She needs to disappear for the afternoon to think.
She walks as far as she can away from town, wanting to get some fresh air. She knows that she’s probably being a little over dramatic, but at the same time she doesn’t care. If Jughead is her best friend, why is he still such a mystery?
A car pulls up beside her, but she doesn’t think anything of it. She isn’t concerned with anyone else now.
She hears a window roll down, but she ignores the sound.
Her heart beats are starting to increase, though, making the slow moving car feel like a heavy weight on her chest. There is definitely something fishy going on. She begins to speed up, but the car starts to follow. She slows down, it keeps pace.
She’s afraid to look over now, but out of her peripheral vision she can see a figure in a mask, driving a white van with tinted windows. Of course, the most obvious thing parents tell their children to stay away from.
She closes her eyes for a moment to catch a breath, trying to decide on what to do. She is too far out of town to run all the way back without causing a scene or them catching up. Her phone is in her backpack, and it will be too obvious as to what she’s doing if she tries that.
A touch catches her off guard as she spins around, and then doubles over in pain as the man makes a swift punch to her gut. Her backpack falls to the ground, her notebooks falling all over the gravel side of the road.
Before she knows it she’s being thrown in the back of the darkened vehicle, the stench of alcohol and weed filling her nostrils, making her gag. Her hands are tied tightly behind her back with rope before whoever her captor is closes the door, plunging her in darkness.
The car begins to move, and she has a sinking feeling she might be in some deep shit.
Jughead knocks on the bedroom window later the in the week, on Wednesday, of course. He hasn’t seen in her in a few days, seeing as they don’t have any classes together, he assumes she was probably busy practicing and taking a bit of time off from the murder case.
The window is closed, which is unusual. Normally (Y/N) leaves the window open a crack for him, always playing piano. He loves to sit and listen to her play, teasing her and writing when he has the time.
Her playing is one of the only things that can calm him in the midst of dealing with his dad and his novel. Her help with the murder is beginning to lighten the load, it seems like she spends just as much time on making connections as she does making music.
He cups a hand around his eyes as he peers in through the window, looking for a sign of her in the room. There’s nothing, though, which is also odd. He has been coming over every Wednesday since he can remember, since they were little kids. He comes in through the window, always.
He pulls out his phone and opens a text message to her.
‘i need to play my rendition of “The Itsy Bitsy Spider” for you. where are you?’ he writes, pressing send, trying to make it sound as light hearted and not needy as possible. He knows she’s busy, that she may still be doing school work or out running errands, but it’s just so unlike her to not be practicing in her room on a weekday afternoon.
There’s no response, so he waits. He waits for an hour, which turns into two.
Soon it’s sunset, and still no sign of (Y/N).
The next day, Thursday, he approaches Betty.
“I need your help.” he says, making her heart flutter in her chest despite her protests to make it stop.
“What is it?” Betty asks.
“I know you said you don’t want to do any more investigating, but I think (Y/N) is in trouble.” he says under his breath.
“What? No, I just saw her Monday.” she says, pulling the books she is carrying closer to her chest.
“She wasn’t there yesterday. She’s always there on Wednesdays.” he says, a sinking feeling coming over his chest. Deep down, he knew.
“Maybe she forgot?” Betty shrugs. It’s not like she doesn’t care, because she does, she just knows that her and (Y/N) are in rocky territory right now, and she’s not even sure if she could call them friends. She wants to be friends, but knows it probably won’t happen.
“She doesn’t forget.” He argues.
“She’s probably fine, Jug, you’ll probably see her later. Don’t worry about it.” she dismisses him as the bell rings, walking down the hall.
The thing is, he can’t dismiss this feeling. This feeling of trouble.
He adjusts his beanie and begins to make a plan, trying to think like (Y/N) would. He exits the school, walking down the road. He notices a music notebook along the road out of town, and he knows she was there. She must have dropped it, or it must have fell. He looks around, and only then does he notice skid marks driving off the road on the other side of the road. They were fresh, like they had been caused only a few days prior. The tracks continued through the grass, off into the distance.
He contemplates what to do, looking at her stuff once more.
He kneels down and opens the notebook, reading the music notes on the page. On the top, the title of the song read, “A Hero in Black”. Underneath, “for Jughead”. His heart wrenched, looking at all of the marks on the page. It looks as if it’s been redone about a million times, pencil marks everywhere, notes appearing in patterns he can’t understand. There’s a pain in his chest, and suddenly he knows.
It took her disappearing for him to realize, but he likes her, and he needs to tell her. He may be overreacting, but a part of him doesn’t care. Wherever she is, he needs to get to her, in a cheesy-romantic kind of way that kind of makes him of want to vomit, but pulls on his heart like nothing else ever has.
And so, he sets off down the road, not knowing where it’ll take him.
Rihanna Sketch Art by AllStarEmanuel . This piece just flow itself into completion, i didn’t have to do much, i didn’t have to force anything. I was just following the instinct of creation and creavitiy until it came to this semi-final stage. The best works are those that i don’t have to force it ever.. [Reblog & Like, I appreciate all the support I can get. Thank you]
Joshua stared at the tile wall, eyes pink and swollen from all the tears. He lay in the ice cold water, his arms draped over your wilt body that rests on his chest. He was completely drenched from head to toe, but he couldn’t be bothered by that.
His throat felt dry as fuck from all the screaming.
Joshua begged you to come back to him. He begged and begged, desperately whispering sweet words into your ear as he held you in his arms. When that didn’t work, he tried tracing your soul.
He used up all his energy to summon your soul back to your body before you could reach the final destination.
Scenario: You’d fallen in love with someone you were supposed to train. You were only a few months older, but years more experienced in the world of dance. His parents paid you to set him on the right path and change his life. Little did you know the only life that would change was yours.
A/N: Okay so honestly I’m pretty stoked about finishing something after months of being on hiatus. I’m not sure if my storytelling or writing is rusty, but honestly, I’m just excited to have something new for you lovelies to read. Obviously, this is a continuation of Breathe, but you don’t necessarily need to read it to understand what is going on here. I hope you guys enjoy this very much!! Much love, Jenn
[ image: the scarecrow in a relatively colorful outfit. his head is half a potato sack,the face cut into the shape of his second dcau design’s face but having nubs poking out of his straw hair where the corners of the bag is. a purple hat, with a long green scarf wrapped around it, a piece hanging and flowing behind him. he’s wearing a noose, burned off at the frayed end, and a red coat with yellow long collar points and another green scarf wrapped around his middle, once again having an end flowing off. his pants are purple and he’s wearing yellow gloves and little black boots. he’s obviously frightened by something below him and flails his arms and limbs as if to get away. ]
Gosh, this one caused me a lot of tears of frustration. I had writer’s block when starting this one then the entire piece just wouldn’t flow. I’m still a bit unhappy with this but oh well. Also on my AO3 of the same name.
Summary: Virgil and Roman watch the northern lights together but Roman gets distracted by a view he deems to be much better.
A/N:A very orginal fanfiction with a lot of plot that should be taken a 100% seriously because of it’s value for today’s society. Yes, my soul-nerd @parchment-scribbles and me had a conversation about cliches, Mary Sues and out of character writing, and this just happened, enjoy!
You couldn’t sleep so you opened twitter. You planned on just mindlessly scrolling through tweets until you fell asleep, but that’s not what happened. All through your feed was accounts freaking out about the cover Shawn just put up, and how sad it was. The first thing that came to your mind wasn’t anything about the cover, it was these accounts. You didn’t remember following any of them till you went through some of their posts. They were people who supported your relationship, and would defend you. You never unfollowed them because that idea seemed rude to you. So you went through the tweets from these accounts more, and then started to roam everyone’s Twitter about the cover. You weren’t going to watch the video, until you came across a string of Tweets talking about who the cover was meant for. They think the cover was meant for you.That’s when you decided to check out what he posted on Youtube. You search his name and his account comes up. The most recent video was simply called ‘Shawn Mendes Cover’, which seemed a little strange considering he always put the titles of the songs in the title of the video. You ignore it and click on the video.
His intro stayed the same as it always did.
“What’s up guys, it’s Shawn” he seemed so upbeat and happy. You didn’t understand what everyone was talking about when referring to the video as sad. He continues talking, and that’s when he said the title of the song he was singing.
“Today I am going to be doing a cover of When I Was Your Man by Bruno Mars.”
Your heart dropped to your stomach. This is why the video was sad. This is why people are thinking the song is about you. It is a song about a breakup.
His eyes look straight into the camera when he says “I hope you enjoy.”
If your heart had already dropped to your stomach, it would now be on the floor. You know he wasn’t looking at you, but it felt like he was. It felt like he was looking into your eyes, the same way he did whenever he would sing your favorite song live. You paused the video and looked into his eyes. You remember the first time you saw him live after the two of you had became an item. You were in the front row, and at first it was a little awkward. At this time no one knew Shawn and you were together. Both of your families knew, and Shawn’s team knew, but that was about it. Shawn knew your favorite song on the set list was Ruin. He knew because he asked you out using the words, “Darling I’m the only one for you”. The entire time he sang that song, his eyes were locked on you.
You open your eyes, take a deep breath, and press play. The camera was propped in front of the keyboard, and your heart rate increased as he began to play the opening chords. He slowly inhaled and started.
Same bed but it feels just a little bit bigger now. Our song on the radio but it don’t sound the same. When our friends talk about you, all it does is just tear me down. ‘Cause my heart breaks a little when I hear your name.
Tears started to build up in your eyes. You hadn’t talked to Shawn since that night. The two of you hadn’t even sent one text message to each other. Neither of you liked each other’s Instagram posts, or favorited each other’s tweets. There was zero contact between the two of you since you walked out of his house. You kept listening.
I should have bought you flowers, and held your hand. Should have gave you all my hours when I had the chance. Take you to every party ‘cause all you wanted to do was dance.
You remember the first time Shawn held your hand in public. He had always wanted to make it seem like you two were just good friends, but the fans were getting on his nerves. The two of you had been walking in New York City, and people kept interrupting your walk. At first Shawn wasn’t too bothered about this. He loved his fans and enjoyed meeting them. But he was trying to be romantic, and it was hard to do that when people stopped him every two minutes to take a picture. So when the last fan in a group took her picture and kissed him on the cheek, he was fuming. He locked eyes with the fan, and grabbed your hand. He intertwined his fingers with yours, and pulled the two of you away for the rest of your walk.
You continued to listen to the rest of the cover. By the end, you were crying. It just brought so many memories back. But when Shawn sung the last verse, you could hear the pain in his voice.
Do all the things I should have done, when I was your man.
Those words made your heart shatter into a thousand pieces. Tears were now flowing from your eyes, and you needed to stop. But you didn’t stop it in time. You didn’t stop it before the last words fall from his lips.
“I love you”
Then the video just fades to black. You understand why everyone was freaking out, because you too were freaking out. Do you text him about the video? Is it wrong to assume the cover was meant for you? How are you supposed to react to something like this. You know you have to text him about the video. So you do. You send him one text and then go to sleep.