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anonymous asked:

I hate you, now fuck me

How Until My Feet Bleed by @kazliin Should Have Ended

Part of him still couldn’t believe that Yuuri was finally here with him, that this was real and not just another dream….

Digging one of his hands into the skin of Viktor’s back… slowly taking him apart, Yuuri looked at him, face flushed and staring at Viktor with an intensity that made it impossible to look away.

“I hate you.” Yuuri breathed and his eyes held none of the warmth or joy that Viktor had been feeling just seconds before. “Now fuck me.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut and Viktor felt his fingers still in shock, the words so unexpected and unexpectedly painful that every muscle in his body froze and locked in place….

“What?!”

Victor snapped back, the rush hitting him like he was slamming back down on the ice again. To hear those words spoken outloud was a slap to the face and a plunge off a cliff, straight down the sheer rock face of confusion. Because the last time he was in a hotel room with Yuuri, he had been hearing softly muttered confessions imitating affection, and the sharp twist of reality was too much to ignore.

The chill in Yuuri’s eyes melted at Victor’s outburst, honey brown widening in betrayal of his shock. Whatever haze of lust and alcohol fleeted from them in stark reaction, and Yuuri seemed as frozen as Victor, except for his fingers trembling, curled into the bedsheets.

One breath take in an attempt to calm the mix of emotions threatening to spill forth, and Victor permitted it all burst forward despite himself. “Why are you even here then?”

Just like that, Victor saw all the confidence drain from Yuuri’s face, leaving him pale and then scrambling for shoved aside bedding to cover himself. Victor didn’t bother.

“Yuuri, I don’t-…” Years of questions leapt through every part of his mind, brawling to be the first to fall from his tongue just so he could finally hope to grasp at a single note of understanding. The most and least simple being, “why?”

If emotions and confusion, insistent need to understand were at battle inside himself, it looked like a war was raging through Yuuri. His gaze locked with Victor’s and yet he still looked torn between wanting to cling to it and to flee, clutching at the bedsheets which he brought up to cover himself, suddenly modest. “Why what?”

The tremor in his voice was all that Victor needed. “Why do you… I don’t get you, Yuuri! What the hell did I do to merit you dancing with me one moment and telling me you hate me as you try to sleep with me the next?”

A heartbeat passed. Then two.

Yuuri opened his mouth, no words coming forth, and then shut it. His eyebrows arched high into bangs messed from the heated lead up, and then his expression fell. And hardened. His red, swollen lips pursed into a thin line, and those gorgeous eyes narrowed. It almost startled Victor, to recognize in that moment the contempt he had often seen directed at him when on the podium.

“This! Exactly this!” Yuuri snapped, dropping the bedsheet as he leaned forward, closing the distance Victor placed between them. “The fact that you don’t even care enough to remember!”

“Remember what?!” Every memory of his interaction with Yuuri flashed by, but none of them could account for hate, at least not in Victor’s mind. “What I said to you in the bathroom that one time? That was–”

“No! Before that! You were my idol, Victor, and you broke my heart!”

Before that… Desperately, Victor searched every shred of memory, every hint of an interaction with Yuuri that he had treasured no matter how tense or distant, but there was nothing. “What, Yuuri, I would never–”

“You did!” Yuuri’s words cut in and Victor let him, watching the flush of arousal on Yuuri’s skin turn to one of anger and irritation instead. “I worshipped you and you insulted me. You belittled me. I was just a kid…” Yuuri inhaled a shaky breath and the dam broke. “I went to see you, when you skated your last Junior season. I got tickets as a birthday present, because I wanted nothing more than to see you skate. And after you won, I… I waited outside for you, to get your autograph. And I met you.”

It wasn’t ice in Yuuri’s eyes anymore. It wasn’t fire. It was what Victor had felt so close to, so many times himself, could recognize instantly. Defeat.

“You… you broke my heart, Victor, when I met you…”

Broken did not seem to be enough. Victor shattered, cascading into shards that littered the cold floor beside them. “I… I don’t remember.”

“Of course you don’t. I was just one fan. And you have so many. Why should you?”

He should have. Why didn’t he. “But Yuuri, it’s you. How could I not remember you?” Why would he though. Yuuri was right. He would have just been another face in the crowd. Yet Victor felt like he should. Of all the faces, of people, he should have remembered Yuuri. What had he even said.

“You didn’t. You… I just-… how many other hearts did you break, Victor? How many other dreams did you step on? Or did you forget all of those too?”

The shards fragmented. Stepped on and crushed by each syllable being confessed. He had met Yuuri, broken his heart, and couldn’t even recall how. Couldn’t even begin to guess. “Yuuri, I’m sorry-”

“Whatever,” Yuuri sighed, then shoved off the bed, but Victor reached over and grabbed his hand before Yuuri could grab his clothes off the floor, grateful for when Yuuri stopped and did not jerk away.

“Yuuri, don’t please…” He needed to understand. He would not be content to leave it at that. “You… at the Olympics, you got drunk… you told me that you liked me. Or that you liked my hair, and my eyes. So I know you can’t hate me. Not completely. And Yuuri, I don’t hate you. Please, I just need to understand, so that if I need to spend the rest of my life apologizing to you, I can mean it. So please tell me. Help me remember. Or at least, help me understand.”

Conflict writ itself in bold across Yuuri’s face, but the tension in his shoulders softened and the pull of his wrist in Victor’s hand ebbed away. The digital clock display on the hotel bedstand switched minutes, and Yuuri pulled at his lower lip with his teeth, then nodded. “Okay but… let me put something on first?”

There was a blush tinting Yuuri’s cheeks, softening him into a vision Victor had only seen in Phichit’s photos before, of a delicate Yuuri that Victor had never been permitted to see in the flesh before now. His chest felt too small for his heart as it swelled with the affection Victor had already been so bad at containing.

Without the briefest moment of hesitation, Victor rushed to the corner of the room, grabbing one of his shirts from closet since he had now regrettably torn Yuuri’s. He draped it across Yuuri’s shoulders with a gentleness that Yuuri did not seem to believe.

“I think we probably have a lot to talk about.” Victor tried to smile and felt it bloom into a real one when Yuuri scoffed, a thread of amusement and understatement so clearly wrapped around it.

“Yeah… I think… we really do.”


(The moral of the story: communication can happen, if you behave like a good person and put your dick away for just a hot second)

Okay so, I tried to keep this private last night, because I know that in no way this represents the whole of DEH stans, but I need to say this.

Last night I had the honor of seeing Dave Malloy as Pierre in Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812. Personally, it is my favorite show of the season, and the ticket was an end of term present to myself. (If you want a review of the show message me it was fantastic.)

Now, Dear Evan Hansen is in the theatre directly next to TGC. Normally that wouldn’t be an issue, but when I came out to the stage door last night, there was a handful of DEH fans who were being extremely rude and pushy to those of us standing in line for TGC. One girl wouldn’t stop getting in peoples faces talking about how TGC was going to lose, and the whole group (around 5 people from what I could see) was yelling and shouting for the 15 minutes I stood in line (I had paintings to drop off with the doorman.)

This is not what love of theatre is about. Tearing down another show, or even fans of other shows, is not the spirit of theatre. DEH is ABOUT the perils of bullying and ostracization, and to see this group of people acting so horribly made me incredibly angry.

Theatre is supposed to be a family, this is a small community, and if you are going to thrive off of being hurtful, hateful, and cruel, you don’t belong anywhere near it.

I know this is technically a day late, but let’s pretend I totally posted this yesterday… 

Neil starts outlining a plan in his head as he ducks between students and buildings. Group projects are the bane of his existence, but he has to do them if he wants to pass, and he has to pass if he wants to be eligible to keep playing Exy. At least this time Joseph Peters isn’t in his group, but he still prefers individual assignments. The faster he gets his five slides done, the less he has to interact with the group.

Neil cuts across the Green because it’s faster, but he has to weave through a sea of bodies. The warmer weather of spring has drawn out many students from their hoards in the library. From sunbathers to studiers, the grass is now marred by waves and waves of bright colors and tanned skin. The combination of laughter and the singing of nearby birds tangle together in the air like a tangible cacophony, and the rays of the sun lick down along the ground, creating a blissful atmosphere.

Neil sidesteps around a group of sorority girls and ducks to avoid getting in the middle of an ultimate frisbee game. By the time he makes it Perimeter Road, the crowds have thinned out, and it’s easy to cross the road and head up towards Fox Tower.

His dorm is dark when Neil unlocks the door. For some reason all of the lights have been turned off, and it instantly strikes Neil as odd. He knows he can double check the schedule taped to the fridge, but he distinctly remembers Nicky’s class getting out earlier than his. Even stranger still is the fact that someone has blocked out the windows, so only a few straggling bands of light seep in. The stark darkness puts Neil on edge, settling deep in his chest and making waves of anxiety begin to churn. He knows it’s been three years, that there’s no need to run anymore, but that doesn’t stop the disquiet in his bones or ease the itch now sparking in his muscles. He’s considering heading up to the roof and texting Andrew when the lights flick on.

“Surprise!”

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Dress in Every Color- Tyler Seguin

Originally posted by midsummermagiic

Ok ladies and gents another Tyler smut! This one’s softer so if you didn’t like the last one give this one a try and if you don’t like smut… Ryan Strome is up next! Enjoy!

Warning: cussing, sex, smexy time, smut

Anon Request: your writing is amazing!! i have a request, tyler seguin smut? maybe where you guys are at some type of event but he has other ideas? idk whatever you want :)

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              Your dress was a little too conservative.

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I Don’t Dance (Morgan Reilly)

Anonymous said:

hey just wondering if you have any morgan rielly requests or if you could do a super cute fluff one about him sometime with one of those numbered prompts maybe? thanks so much xoxo

Anonymous said:

morgan rielly imagine? pretty please? you can choose whichever really cute one you want but like megacute fluff preferably?

Word count: 1064

Originally posted by willynylanders


It was one of the only nights that Morgan didn’t have a game or practice, yet the Maple Leafs decided to have Casino Night on this one night. You were fine with going to events that were sponsored by the team, but you had really been looking forward to the one night where you and Morgan could just lay on the couch, eat pizza and watch TV as opposed to being forced to wear a tight dress and schmooze with people who pay a whole lot of money just to see a bunch of hockey players.

You stand in the ornate ballroom that the Leafs rent out for all their Casino Nights, sipping a glass of champagne and watching as Morgan laughs with a couple of season ticket holders. You’re bored out of your mind; gambling’s never been your thing, and you haven’t managed to find Sydney, Steph or any of the other girls. You’re bored out of your mind as you people watch, Morgan’s arm around your waist the whole time.

“…Isn’t that right, (Y/N)?” You’re snapped out of your reverie by the sound of Morgan calling your name. You glance up at him, not sure what at all he just said.

“I’m sorry, what? I wasn’t listening.” You say sheepishly. Morgan laughs as you blush.

“I was just talking about our trip to your parents’ next month.” Morgan explains to you while you nod, pretending that you’re interested.

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Musings on Pearls and Oysters

I’m not fully keeping up with twitter but here are some interesting factoids relating to pearl and oyster symbolism since that seems to be a topic of interest! I’ve also added my own brief commentary in parentheses just for fun!

  • Early Chinese civilization considered black pearls a symbol of wisdom and believed they were formed within a dragon’s head. Once full-grown, the pearls were carried between the dragon’s teeth. According to this myth, one had to slay the dragon to gather the pearls. (I find the mention of dragon slaying interesting and possibly relevant)
  • In a woman’s dream oysters may signify seduction, but can also suggest sacrifice. Hypatia, an alexandrian mathematician and philosopher, was flayed to death by christians using oyster shells in 415 ce for her beliefs. (this reminded me of the group of discredited women in TAB - often associated with TJLC)
  • Oyster - Clamming up emotions; patient endurance of suffering ensures greatness (a message for us to be patient?)
  • Oysters represent silence, secretiveness, and concealment of a secret beauty. (secret episode, anyone?)
  • Oyster is London’s travel smartcard. You can put your Travelcard or Bus Pass season ticket on it, add travel value (cash) to pay as you go or have a combination of both. (not super relevant but the connection to London was enough for me to mention this)
  • Oyster aids in recognizing where and when to lay foundations. It is time to solidify what has begun. Beginning something new has great potentials. The highly transformative ability of Oyster will assist in the changes. Use your intuition and follow your heart for wisdom. (basically everything in this paragraph is relevant: recognizing when to lay foundations, solidifying what we’ve started, possibly pulling new threads, transformation of the game, and using our intuition)
  • Oysters - another name for the drug oxycotin (sherlock back on drugs??? or possibly a hint that they are indeed playing out the dying detective and sherlock is pretending to be medicated)
  • The phrase “the world is my oyster” apparently comes from “The Merry Wives of Windsor” (we’ve had multiple references to this play - too many to be a coincidence!)
  • How do you open an oyster? By prying it open. You can’t just gently touch an oyster with a knife; you have to put some muscle behind it. But we think all that hard work is totally worth it because there’s a chance of a huge payoff inside. (we need to work for our information and for our payoff - it’s not just going to happen on its own)
  • The use of an oyster as a metaphor for life, also has a double-meaning: The world holds the possibility of making a fortune, but it depends upon how hard one looks for and works at getting. It may take a lot of work and trying a lot of different things (i.e., prying open a lot of oysters) before one finally makes one’s fortune (i.e., finds a pearl). (possibly a hint to keep trying different things and not to give up because one particular lead doesn’t pan out)

tagging below the cut for some other ppl’s thoughts

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I’ve had these [Kings season] tickets for 5 years, and there’s been only, like, 8 guys that have stood out.  It’s really hard to stand out on a rink, you know.  You can’t tell who’s who, everyone’s got their helmets on, and then there’s a couple of guys you’re like ‘Jesus’…Malkin’s one of those.  The first time I saw him in person, with the seats we have, just watching the way he just holds people off while he holds the puck… there’s only like 3, 4, guys in the league who can do that, that can do the skate-around, keep possession, guys are banging them, guys are hitting them with their sticks, and they’re just like, unfazed.

anonymous asked:

Reader x supporting Tyler as an athlete? Those muscles yoooo

Okay so during the January livestream Tyler said that when he was younger he wanted to be a pro athlete so…pro athlete au!
(Also I already tried to answer this on mobile and then it got deleted, so I’m sorry about that)

- You go to every home game he has
- Teamiplier actually has season tickets so basically you guys get your own section
- And you could probably get one of those fancy boxes but you guys like being with the crowd
- You guys cheer yourselves hoarse every game
- With face paint you paint Tyler’s number on your cheeks (idk i always liked it when people at my school did that, it was cute)
- You make signs and posters for him every game too, like you both are still in high school
- If he gets hurt Teamiplier has to hold you back from doing something crazy like running onto the field
- And when he does get hurt you’re the one who takes care of him at home
- But also Tyler’s a super inspirational person and likes to do as much good as he can, so during the off season you guys do a lot of volunteer work together
- He really loves visiting schools and running around with kids
- When he wins a game he loves scooping you up and swinging you around
- And when he loses you’re the only one who gets to comfort him, he’s too frustrated and mad at himself to talk to anyone else (poor babe puts too much pressure on himself)
- Sometimes it gets hard when he has away games and you can’t go but he’s really good about calling you when he can
- And you send him little inspirational texts that he may or may not copy and paste onto his twitter, giving you credit of course
- When you guys see each other after a few weeks of being apart you jump into his arms and he kinda groans because he’s sore but it really doesn’t matter because he missed you so much there’s no way he’s going to put you down anytime soon

Superiority (Dylan Larkin)

Anonymous said:

Hi! Could you write a Dylan Larkin imagine where he takes the reader back to the university of Michigan and shows her around???? Thank you!!!

Word count: 1608

Author’s note: I do not go to UMich, so please, if you go there and I got something about your school insanely wrong, let me know!

Originally posted by glovesdropped


Dylan loved the University of Michigan. He had all of his old U of M memorabilia up around the apartment, subscribed to all of the university’s games and was a season-ticket holder for the school’s hockey team. So when you and he were both finally able to attend a Saturday game, he jumped at the chance to take you to his ‘old stomping grounds.’

You, on the other hand, attend Michigan State. Even though Dylan swears that you’re miserable at Michigan State and constantly tries to convince you to transfer (‘it’s a shorter drive to Detroit if you go to UMich!’), you’re steadfast in your belief that you’re a diehard Spartan. Needless to say, that means that you’re not all that thrilled that Dylan decides to take you to visit his alma mater. Sure, you’re excited that Dylan finds you important enough to show you this huge part of his life, but the rivalry between University of Michigan and Michigan State is so deeply ingrained into your mind that you just can’t get past the fact that you’re stepping onto the campus out of your own free will.

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One by one, the sons of Feanor are reborn into the modern world.

Amras is first, of course, and he grows into a somewhat quiet life as a school-teacher in London. By chance, he runs into a man that looks exactly like him, a businessman from Glasgow, and they both remember. They resolve to look for their brothers, but aren’t sure where to start.

One week, Amrod goes to Seattle on a business trip and turns on the TV. It’s playing reruns of North Woods Law on Animal Planet, and just as he switches the channel, he catches a glimpse of someone familiar. He finishes his work, flies back to collect his twin, then purchases all seven seasons and two plane tickets to Maine. It takes them a long while to narrow down their search based on information in the show, but eventually, they find Celegorm. It turns out, they find all their brothers just by luck and coincidence.  

They find Caranthir in southern Russia, downing vodka and starting and finishing fights. He starts to brawl with Celegorm, and that fight, he doesn’t finish. When he wakes up in the hospital, he remembers who he is.

Then, they find Curufin using his engineering degree to build housing in Uganda. At first, he pretends he doesn’t know them, but they soon realize he has always known, and does what he does because he thinks his son would want him to.

Maedhros, they find rescuing dogs from illegal fights from all over South America. He tells them that in this life, he lost his hand when he startled a particularly viciously abused dog. They ask him which dog, and he calls over a truly giant doberman, which promptly bowls over Celegorm in excitement. The hunter is overjoyed to see Huan reborn as well, but Curufin is bitter. They’ve found his brother’s dog. They haven’t found his son.

They spend years looking and hoping to find the rest of their family, but to no avail. Maedhros suggests they take a vacation and return with fresh eyes. That is how they get lost spelunking in Carvoeiro and find Maglor. He is old, and he does not trust his eyes.

Maedhros decides that the best thing for Maglor is to stay in one place, surrounded by familiar faces. Curufin decides that the rest of their family might still be out there and it is their duty to find them. The brothers split - Celegorm takes Maedhros, Maglor, and Amras to his home in Maine, where it is quiet and humans are sparse, and the other three turn Amrod’s home in Glasgow into the base of operations for their world wide search.

After nearly a decade, it turns out they were right. They first bring Nerdanel to Maine from the Middle East, where she was studying art and architecture. Then they bring Celebrimbor from Japan, where he was attempting to relearn swordsmithing.

They find Feanor in Melbourne and leave him there until Nerdanel retrieves him herself. 

It takes years and years, but eventually, they learn to be a functional family, living deep in the woods, together.

There are still those they search for, those they never find, those they miss with all their heart. But for the most part, they are content.

look into your eyes

Summary: Five times Yuri Plisetsky’s eyes had left Otabek helpless, even if he didn’t know it at first. (word count: 2303)


1. and the sky’s the limit

He did not have the natural talent, nor did he have a lot of resources. Compared to the others, the ones with so much more, he was nothing. It felt easy to just give up, leave Russia, and forget about his dream of becoming an ice skater and making his country proud.

And honestly, he was about to do exactly that. Not only was he stuck with students 2-3 years younger than he was, he still keeps getting scolded for not being able to do what they could.

All those thoughts were erased from him when he looks up and sees a boy - probably ten or eleven, at most - do the exercise perfectly, lifting his leg and pointing his toes exactly as the instructor had told. But it wasn’t that that had captivated him.

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Genderbent civilian AU

So I was doing the dishes, and sometimes I really like doing menial tasks because it lets my mind wander while my hands are doing work.
In any case, my brain came up with a civilian genderbent AU for the batfam.

Brenda Wayne as the CEO of Wayne Enterprises, who incidentally has 5 children.

“I mean what’s the damn point of being a multi-billionaire if no one will listen to me?!”
“I think all mothers find difficulty with that regardless of wealth, my dear.”

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