shirt bar

Every year the Russian Team does a bar crawl. It’s a tradition now. They all have T-shirts that have Yakov’s face on the front (Above the word Фелстман bolded and underlined) and, on the back, a skater’s name in large bolded font below an alphabetized list of every skater Yakov’s ever had in much smaller text. They get new T-shirts every time someone new is added to the roster, so usually every year or two.

They change the T-shirts to include Yuuri, and also to change Viktor’s name to his married name. Yuuri has no idea that this is even a thing until he walks into the rink one morning to see Yuri skating around with a pile of bright purple T-shirts in his arms.

“Yo, Katsudon,” Yuri mutters when he gets to him, flipping through shirts distractedly. He’s almost a normal person this early in the morning, before the vitriol has settled into his bones for the day. “So your stupid husband didn’t tell us what size you are, but you wear his clothes all the time anyway and since you have the same last name it was just less complicated to order two of the same size. Here.” He drops them so quickly that Yuuri almost overbalances to catch them. He’s halfway across the rink by the time Yuuri straightens back up, making his way towards one of the Juniors who Yuuri thinks might be named Katya. 

“Ooh, the shirts came in,” Viktor says happily when he catches up. He takes one and holds it up to the light. The picture of Yakov on the front is…not exactly flattering. “Wow! They look even better than last year! Purple is a much better color than green.”

“What am I looking at?” Yuuri demands, staring dumbfounded at his own T-shirt.

“Yakov, of course,” Viktor says happily. He flips the shirt around. Yuuri startles at the giant, bold Кацуки-Никифоров on the back. Viktor scans the smaller text (Which is, weirdly enough, in the shape of a skating boot) and says, “Ah, here you are.” Yuuri leans over.

“Yeah, that’s…definitely my name,” Yuuri says, brows furrowing. Юрий Кацуки-Никифоров. It is, of course, right next to Виктор Кацуки-Никифоров. He’s familiar enough with the other skaters’ names to realize that the small text is Yakov’s roster. “Um, why though?” 

“I’m not sure!” Viktor says happily. “I came here after it started! I’ll go put these in our lockers. Start warming up please, Kitten!”

Viktor skates away. Yakov’s face seems to wink at him, over and over again, from where Viktor is clutching the shirts by his hip.

“After WHAT started?” Yuuri demands to the room at large. Nobody answers him.

Viktor eventually does explain what they are for, the afternoon before the bar crawl itself. He also shows Yuuri the dozen past bar crawl shirts he owns. The passage of time is indicated by the growing shirt sizes and Yakov’s hairline. Yakov had almost a full head of hair when Viktor first joined the roster.

“Does Yakov know about this?” Yuuri mutters, staring at the shirts in awe. 

“Oh, I’m sure he does,” Viktor says. “Lilia makes the shirt orders for us. It’s the only reason she’s not on the shirt too, honestly.”

Every single day, Yuuri is more and more amazed that Yakov Feltsman has not taken to the Siberian wilderness to live in seclusion and blessed silence. 

Freddie Mercury and his Mysterious Shirts

Remember when I said Freddie was wearing a shirt with his future self on?
And some people wondered if they were from one of the gay bars he went to (like the Mineshaft and Heaven ones he wore)

Well anyway, there was this artist called Tom of Finland who was famous for creating homoerotic art of muscular gay clones and the pictures on Freddie’s shirts look like those! Maybe Freddie was a fan of the art and thought the drawings were hot!

 I don’t know if this one counts too; it looks similar!

Here are some examples:

Also look at this!

Reminds me of this: 

:-D

instagram

Toby and Brian from Sukku Son’s Insta account.

like seriously, is there anything straight people haven’t tried to take from gay people? 

our clothes, our media representation, our haircuts, our flagging, pride flags, our specific terminology, our safe spaces, now even the word ‘gay’ itself?? 

leave us alone 

True Colors

Named after the song by the Weeknd bc I am trash. Thank you to @caspercassiecas for being my beta. This is my first fic on this account, and my ask box is always open for requests. Hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 3606

Warnings: Smut, fluff, disgusting dude at a bar, reader has a dragon tattoo, sex related humor at the end.


“Y/N!” You heard Lin shout, and you sighed heavily, still holding the coffee that the man had sent you to get. You looked around for him, noticing that he was on the other side of the stage. The stage where the company was practicing.

You groaned, sprinting across the stage, ducking and spinning around dancing people. You somehow managed to get across without spilling the coffee, handing it to Lin and smiling before you heard your name called again.

“Y/N! Come meet Diggs! He was sick yesterday, so you didn’t get to meet him!” You heard Christopher shout, and you groaned again, sighing heavily. You looked over, trying to find where Christopher was standing.

“You guys are lucky I do sports.” You muttered, Lin cackling and patting your shoulder.

“Yes, we are. You’ve got a busy second day ahead of you, kid.” Lin laughed, and you groaned, running back across the stage, doing a slide on your knees between a dancer’s legs and ending up at Christopher’s feet, scrambling up.

“Sorry, I learned yesterday that if I time it right, I can get across the stage without being hit.” You explained, brushing yourself off before smiling widely at Christopher and the tall man beside him.

“Y/N Y/L/N, Daveed Diggs, Daveed Diggs, Y/N Y/L/N. Y/N is our new intern since Jessica quit the other day.” Christopher introduced them, and you smiled warmly, shaking Daveed’s hand. He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by Phillipa calling out for you.

“Y/N!”

You made an apologetic face, wincing.

“Sorry, it was lovely meeting you, Diggs. I’ll catch you later.” You waved, weaving between the dancers once more, yelping when one grabbed your hand, spinning and dipping you. You went along with it, doing a couple dance steps with him before he let you go and you ran off to find Phillipa.


You were backstage, delivering Leslie a tea before he had to go on. You sighed heavily, rubbing your eyes as you knocked on Leslie’s dressing room door. You heard a muffled ‘come in’ and opened the door, absently tugging on your hair with your free hand. You poked your head in carefully.

“Hey, Leslie, they didn’t have chai, so I had to get you vanilla, I hope you don’t mind. If it’s an issue, I can run down to the corner store really quick.” You greeted, voice rough from how much you’d spoken that day. The three men in the room turned to you, all smiling. Anthony stood, opening the door for you fully. Daveed waved and smirked from his spot on the couch. Leslie was leaning on his vanity, smiling widely at you.

“It’s no issue, thank you, Y/N. Have you met Diggs? He was out sick yesterday when you were here.”

“Yessir, I have met Diggs. Though I’ve been bouncing around all damn day so I haven’t had a chance to properly speak to him.” You laughed, handing Leslie the tea and smiling at Anthony, who appeared to be struggling with his collar, which wouldn’t stay down.

“Anthony, do you need some help?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows and tilting your head slightly. He looked up and smiled brilliantly.

“Yes, please, actually. I can’t get it to stay down.”

You clicked your tongue, muttering under your breath as you reached a hand to your side, pulling a safety pin out of your jeans. You carefully stuck it in the fabric of Anthony’s coat, pinning it down.

“Alright. Anyone else need anything while I’m in here?” You asked, eyeing Daveed out of the corner of your eye. You noticed his eyes on your legs, moving around your body. He caught your eyes and you raised a brow.

“Coffee would be nice.” Daveed murmured, and you nodded.

“Any specifics on how to make it?”

“I like mine how Lin takes it.”

“Lin takes any kind of coffee I give him.” You snorted, tugging at your hair again as you left the room, sighing heavily.


The Next Day

You were helping one of the dancers through a run, copying his movements effortlessly.

“Y/N! Need you!” You heard Daveed call, and gave the dancer a sad look, jogging off to Daveed’s dressing room, knocking on the door and waiting for the signal to come in. You jumped as Lin opened the door, putting a hand over your heart.

“Jesus! Lin, you almost put me in cardiac arrest.” You scolded, furrowing your brows as you slipped in.

“Sorry, Y/N. I was just leaving.” He laughed, waving as he shut the door. You turned your head, spotting Daveed by his vanity. Your mouth ran dry. He was in a tight black t-shirt, one that outlined every single one of his muscles, and a pair of jeans that fit just right on his hipbones. You forced your eyes to his face, smiling.

“Hey, I was wondering if you could help me with the Lafayette bun. I can’t seem to get it right today.”

“Uh, yeah, s-sure.” You stuttered, blushing bright red. You mentally cursed yourself, walking over and carefully pulling his hair up, forming it into the bun.

“You’re blushing. Are you feeling okay, Y/N?” He practically purred, and you flicked your eyes up to look at him in the mirror, still putting the hair tie around his hair.

“Yeah. Just a little warm in here.” You lied effortlessly, finishing the bun and smiling at him in the mirror.

“Need anything else?”

“The cast is going out tonight, Lin wanted me to see if you’d come. He had to run to set before he could ask himself.”

“He could’ve shot me a text. But yeah, I’ll come.” You murmured, pulling a pocket notebook out of your jeans and scribbling down your number, tearing it out and setting it on his vanity.

“You’re the only person who doesn’t have my number. Text me the location and dress code tonight, please.” You murmured, walking out of his dressing room.


You almost fell out of the shower trying to grab your phone in time to answer the incoming call. You stood, dripping on the floor, pressing the phone against your wet cheek.

Hey, it’s Daveed. I’ll come pick you up. Tell me your address and wear somethin’ nice, aight?” He greeted, and you made a humming sound.

“Will do. Uh, I live in the Deerfold Apartments on eleventh, number 112. I’ll have to buzz you in.” You answered, running a hand through your still soapy hair.

You sound out of breath. You feeling alright?

“I was in the shower when you called. Almost fell trying to answer.” You laughed, listening to his own warm laugh radiate through her speakers.

Alright, I’ll let you finish your shower. See you in about 30 minutes.” He said, and you hummed. The call ended. Or so you thought.

You put your phone down, stepping back in your shower. You went back to your singing, belting out the lyrics to old rock songs at the top of her lungs, running conditioner through your hair. You quickly washed your body and shaved, turning off your shower. You grabbed the towel you kept by, sighing at the puddle of water on the floor.

“Dear god that’s so much water.” You said to yourself, drying off quickly before putting the towel on the floor to soak up the water.

You pulled your hair into another towel, twisting it up and whistling as you stepped on the other towel, singing once again. You picked up your hairbrush and phone, starting on Lemonade, Beyonce’s new album. You picked up the towel and your dirty clothes, walking out to your bedroom, singing at the top of your lungs.

You can taste the dishonesty,
it’s all over your breath,
” You sang, tossing your phone on the bed. You continued singing, putting your dirty clothes and both towels in your hamper. You quickly brushed out your hair, accidentally tripping over a pile of clothes and letting out a loud string of curses. You heard quiet laughter, popping up and trying to find the source of the sound. You scrambled to your phone, finding that you were still in a call with Daveed.

“Diggs! Why didn’t you hang up?!” You exclaimed, turning bright red.

I heard you singing and wanted to stick around to see if you’d sing a song from the show.” You heard his familiar voice crackled through the phone.

“Jesus Christ.” You groaned, knowing you’d never live this down.


You buzzed Daveed in, walking back to your bedroom and stepping into your dress, pulling it up. You struggled with the zipper, getting it up about halfway before you heard a knock on your door. You sighed, walking over to your door and opening it. You gave Daveed a slightly awkward smile.

“Can you zip me up, please? I can’t seem to get it.” You asked, and he laughed, nodding his head. You turned, holding in a shiver as his warm hands ran up your spine, zipping the dress. You felt his fingers lingering, brushing along the dragon tattoo at the base of your neck.

“Nice ink. Do you like dragons?”

“No, I hate them.” You said sarcastically, rolling your eyes and stepping into a pair of heels, grabbing your jacket and purse.

“Alright, let’s motor.” You smiled, spinning your keys around your finger. He nodded, stepping aside to let you out. You locked your apartment, linking your elbow with his and letting him escort you.


You laughed at the story Lin was telling the people at the table, sipping your wine. Daveed was digging into his steak, being quieter than usual. Anthony was on your other side, casually sipping his wine as well.

“Hey, D, you doing okay?” You asked, voice quiet. You glanced over at him, raising a brow. He smiled, nodding.

“I just can’t cut this damn steak.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head and sipping your wine again. The waiter walked over, setting down a wine glass and a note in front of you. You raised your eyebrows. You glanced at the table, making sure they weren’t paying attention before you spoke.

“Oh, I didn’t order this, sir.” You said, smiling up at the waiter.

“It’s from the gentleman in the blue shirt at the bar.” The waiter smiled, and you nodded, looking at the glass of wine and flicking your eyes up to the guy at the bar, who smirked and waved at you. You opened the note, reading it and suppressing a disgusted face. You pulled your notebook and pen out of your bag, scribbling down a note back and chugging the wine. You handed the note and empty glass to the waiter, smiling.

“Tell him he has awful taste in wine, but thanks anyway.” You requested, and the waiter read your note and laughed, nodding his head.

“Yes, ma’am. You have a strong voice in your writing.” He commented, and you smirked.

“I’m aware. Thank you very much.”

You sipped your previous glass of wine, looking over at a call of your name.

“So, Y/N, what did blue shirt guy say in his note?” Lin asked, and you sighed, shaking your head.

“I should’ve known better than to think that would’ve gotten past you. I thought it would be a nice note, but it was vulgar as all hell.” You muttered, shaking your head and glaring at the note.

“What did you say back?” Renee laughed, and you shrugged, smirking.

“I said that he was a pussy for saying it in a note with wine instead of to my face, and if he really expected that to work or get him laid, then he was more idiotic than I thought at first glance.” You answered Lin, who snorted loudly, cackling.

“Wait, lemme see his note! Y/N, you gotta show me!”

“Lin, read it out to us!” Oak laughed, and Y/N giggled, passing the note to Lin. He cleared his throat, getting out his most dramatic voice.

Hey, I really like your dress. I think I’d like it better on my floor, though. I like your lips as well, and I sure would love to see them wrapped around my 11-inch cock, come take charge of me, honey, I can show you a good boy,” Lin read, and you listened to the table burst out into loud laughter. Anthony gave you a sympathetic look, and Daveed swallowed his piece of steak before speaking to her.

“Are you even into being the dominator, Y/N? I get a more vanilla vibe from you.”

You raised your brows at him, laughing softly.

“And I think that’s my cue, sorry, guys, I have to wake up early and run around all day tomorrow.” You spoke, avoiding the question as you slipped on your coat, digging your wallet out of your purse and handing Lin $20 dollars, paying for your food. You waved as you walked out, blowing a kiss at them.


You stretched up, grabbing a pack of powder creamer from the cabinet, dancing to the singing you heard from the stage. You stirred it into the cup of coffee that sat in front of you, singing along softly. You nearly jumped out of your skin as you felt a pair of hands on your hips.

“Did I scare you away last night, baby?” Daveed whispered in your ear, and you shivered.

“N-no, Daveed.” You replied, shivering at the feeling of his breath on your neck.

“You gonna answer my question, baby girl?”

You had to forcibly suppress a moan, subconsciously grinding your ass against his crotch. He laughed quietly, pressing a small kiss to the juncture of your neck and shoulder. You released a shaky breath.

“I don’t like to dominate, I like being dominated.” You muttered, and he bit into your neck, hard enough to leave a bruise and draw a moan out of you.

“Can’t fuck you here, baby girl.” He murmured, and you whimpered.

“I’ll swing by your place later.” He murmured, and you nodded desperately, grinding against him once more before he pulled away, smirking at you as he walked away, leaving you panting and blushing at the counter.


You buzzed Daveed in, practically bouncing as you walked off to your bathroom, checking your appearance one more time, perfecting everything. You heard him knock, walking cautiously over to your door and opening it, stepping aside to let Daveed in.

“You can take your shoes off by the door, and, uh, hang your jacket on the free hook.” You greeted, blushing bright red.

“You’re cute when you blush, baby. If at any point you want me to stop, say ‘red’ okay?”

“Got it. Red. Okay.” You murmured, nodding. You blushed impossibly brighter when he grabbed your hips again, tugging you against his chest. He crashed his lips down onto yours and you moaned into his mouth, circling your arms around his neck and grinding yourself against him.

“Fuck, Daveed, bedroom.” You managed when you broke free, pointing to your bedroom door. He nodded, grabbing the undersides of your thighs and picking you up, walking toward your bedroom, leaving kisses on your neck. He tossed you on your bed, tugging his shirt off and unbuckling his belt. He smirked at you.

“Take off your clothes and hold out your wrists, baby.”

You were quick to comply, pulling your clothes off in record time and holding out your wrists for him. You moaned a little when you saw he’d finished taking off his clothes while you were distracted with yours. He pulled his belt tight around your wrists.

You moaned when he trailed a hand down, running a finger along your slit. You tossed your head back, bucking your hips up when he pushed two fingers into you, curling them just right and rubbing your walls. Your mind went blank, moving your hips to meet his fingers as he thrust them in and out of you. He ducked his head down, sucking at your clit, drawing a damn near scream from you. You were impossibly close. Though, to be fair, you’d been close since he’d kissed you.

“Please, sir, please, let me,” You babbled, mindlessly begging.

“Can you take three, baby?”

“Yes, sir, please,” You moaned, arching your back up sharply when he pushed another finger into you, keeping you right on the edge. You started begging again, whimpering when he held your hips down with one of his hands, stopping you from moving.

“Cum.” He ordered, and you practically screamed his name as you obeyed, back arching, fingers reaching out in your bonds, mind going completely blank. Before you had time to recover completely, he was inside of you, hitting your g-spot immediately.

“Daveed!” You moaned, dragging out the syllables in his name. He wrapped a hand around your throat, biting hard into your shoulder as he pounded into you. You felt his other hand gripping your hip so hard that you knew you’d have his fingerprints branded onto you for weeks. You moaned again when he bit hard on your breast, then moved his hand and bit into your neck again.

“You’re mine now, baby girl, no one else can fuck you like this.” He growled into your ear.

“Yes, sir, yours.” You moaned back, gasping for breath as he slowed down, almost sobbing.

“Say it, baby. Who’s are you?”

“Yours, sir! Please!” You moaned, trying to buck up and get him to go faster again.

“Who’s?”

“Yours, Daveed! Fuck, please!” You sobbed, then felt him unbuckle the belt around your wrists, then start up again. You threw your head back once more, raking your nails up his back. You knew there would be marks the next morning from your nails, and that made you moan more, scratching up his back again, then burying your hands in his hair, pulling. He groaned, nodding his head.

“Good girl, Y/N, fuck. Cum for me, baby girl.” He groaned out, and you let your orgasm take over again, seeing stars. You felt him bite hard into your shoulder, possibly drawing blood, as he came. All the muscles in your body went slack, and you winced at the oversensitivity as he pulled out of you, taking the condom off and tying it, tossing it into the trashcan by your bed. He ran a hand through his sweaty hair, smiling at you.

“Where’s your bathroom, baby, we need to clean you up.” He asked, voice soft. You groaned, lifting your arm and pointing to a door, sighing when he picked you up. He walked into your bathroom, making a pleased noise at the sight of your bathtub, setting you down on the counter and running you a bath.

“I’m tired, Daveed.” You muttered, whining as he picked you up again, sitting in the bath with you between his legs, leaning against his chest.

“I know, baby, let’s just get you cleaned up and then I can take you to bed, okay?”

“Mm, okay.” You murmured, letting him wash you off. You let your eyes slip shut as he shampooed and conditioned your hair, washing your body gently. You felt him moving around as he cleaned himself, then as he pulled the plug to drain the water. You felt him leave the tub, drying himself off, before picking you up and drying you off, carrying you to your bedroom. You sighed, tossing the towel around you into the hamper in your room before he laid you both down, pulling the blanket up to you and wrapping his arms around you.


“Hey, Y/N, what’s with the turtleneck? It’s super fuckin hot in here.” Anthony called, and you spun around, smiling at him.

“That is subjective, Ant. I think it’s really cold, actually.” You lied, shrugging. He raised an eyebrow.

“Or you got laid last night.”

You didn’t respond, the color draining out of your face.

“Holy shit! Guys! Y/N got dicked down!” Anthony shouted, and you pinched the bridge of your nose, groaning.

“Yes, I did. Is there a reason why my sex life is so exciting to you, Ant?” You sighed, putting a hand on the hip that wasn’t bruised all to hell and glaring at him.

“Lemme see what the guy did, Y/N, I know you have a tank top under that damn turtleneck,” Anthony said, and you snorted, rolling your eyes.

“Lin! Make Anthony go away!” You shouted, Lin looking over and laughing at the two of them.

“Do you even remember the guy’s name? Did you get his number? Are you gonna hit him up? I saw you walking weird earlier but I thought you just pulled a muscle, was he that good?” Anthony shot off, and you groaned, sighing.

“Hi, baby. He bothering you?” Daveed asked, wrapping an arm around your waist and gently pecking you.

“Holy shit.” You heard Lin say, then heard Anthony and Oak burst out in laughter.

“Jesus Christ, we knew you liked her! Lemme see what he did to you, you gotta show me now!” Ant cackled, and you made a grumbling noise, looking up at Daveed for permission. He gave a single nod, and you sighed, tugging your turtleneck off and allowing them to see the plethora of bruises on you. Including the scabbed over bite on your shoulder, claiming marks.

“Jesus Christ, Diggs, you don’t hold back.”

“He would’ve but I didn’t tell him to. Is your curiosity sated?” You snapped, glaring. Anthony and Oak held up their hands in mock surrender.

“Well, now we won’t have to ask why you’re walking funny.”

“Shut up.”

hey. hey listen. edward nygma being absolutely amazing at magic tricks and card tricks. the whole illusion of it all has a good appeal, and leaves people guessing about how he did it. he’s amazing at those really stealthy slight of hand ones and the over the top rubix cube tricks. a lot of the time he saves it for impressing people when hes particularly attention seeking.

just picture ed dazzling a bunch of people by the bar w series of card tricks and other tricks at the iceburg lounge with a shit eating smirk. best part about it? free drinks in exchange for an attempt at finding out how he did it

(he never tells. that’d ruin the riddle)

One time Fry races into his and Bender’s apartment, sneakers skidding on the floor as he runs into the bathroom, and hastily opens the door only to almost pee himself (he’s already painfully held it in for hours now) as Bender shrieks and slams the door so harshly it falls off of it’s hinges at the top.

Neither of them make a sound for a moment, and after checking that he didn’t actually pee his pants, Fry tentatively opens the door. And there is Bender, trying to struggle out of one of his spare red jackets , wearing a similar face to the one he wears when the police are about to get him. Fry knows that face to usually mean he needs to run, but he doesn’t think he needs to run right now.

Bender looks up at Fry from between the buttons (which are askew) with wide optics and his arms tangled in the red sleeves over his head. They both pause, and Fry thinks that if Bender needed to breath he would have stopped then, either out of shock or want to die of embarrassment. Fry isn’t really sure what he should be feeling in this moment, but finds himself some place in-between really really happy to find Bender in his jacket for whatever reason and really really blushy. Also he really really has to pee.

He settles for praying that his face isn’t as red as his hair and slowly walking over to the still still - Ha, still still - robot, vaguely wondering if Bender could malfunction and if he’d have to carry him somewhere to get fixed. Fry honestly couldn’t carry Bender, he’d have to call Leela, she’s probably the only one that was strong enough, her biceps are huge. Fry wishes his biceps were that huge, then he could give Bender piggy back rides and hold him in his arms. Fry shakes his head, that was beside the point, whatever the point was.

Fry coughs awkwardly, looking at the dirty shower curtain behind them - Oh, there’s the pepperoni he thought fall in the drain when he was eating pizza in the shower, he’ll have to eat that later - as he gently pulls Bender’s arms down and idly rebuttons the shirt for him. His hands end up resting on Bender’s chest, fingers pitter-pattering in a nervous and stuttered rhythm. Fry hums, this feels nice.

Fry looks up to the mirror to find Bender looking intensely at him and jumps a little, pulls his hands back to rest by his sides. Fry doesn’t really know what’s he’s doing, but he never knows what he’s doing or supposed to be doing, so he doesn’t really care anyway.

Fry bounces on the balls of his feet and watches the lines of Bender’s mouth guard move listlessly, no sound coming out, and suddenly feels an urgent need to reassure Bender that they were cool.

Fry coughs again and steps back, one hand tangling in his bright hair and the other shoved deep into his pocket, fingers playing with the lint there. He looks away from Bender,

“You can, uh,” Fry scratches his head and tries again, says too loudly and too rushed, “Feel free to keep the jacket, Bender! I have, like, twenty hundred of them, so…”

Fry trails off, thinking that was probably a good point to end the conversation. He nods to himself in congratulations, happy he didn’t say anything weird or stupid, and reaches behind himself around to open the door behind him. He fumbles a bit with the doorknob, its a little lower then he’s used to with the door being off a hinge as it was, and looks over his shoulder to see Bender still has his optics locked on his. The robot still hasn’t made a sound.

“Um…” Fry’s breath catches a bit and he gives Bender a once over without thinking, eyes lingering over the way his jacket stretches over Bender’s round shoulders. They kind of makes Fry think of a trashcan, but an attractive one. Not that Bender’s a trashcan, or that Fry’s attracted to trashcans, because he’s not, Bender just- looks really good all the time. If he was a trashcan Fry’s sure he would be an attractive one, Bender could probably be an attractive anything if he tried. Again, not that Fry’s attracted to trashcans. Fry shakes his head and starts over,

“You look really good in it, too! The red really brings out your, uh, metal or something.”

Fry falters and turns back around quickly, hand rattling the doorknob, “Anyway, I’m just gonna-” he bolts before Bender can respond.

Fry groans as he runs, why did he have to go and say something weird? He was doing so good! Now he has to find somewhere else to pee before his bladder erupts.

Fry runs past the kitchen before skidding to a stop, turning around, and looks from the kitchen sink, to the direction of the bathroom, and back again… Are there laws in the future against peeing in the kitchen sink?

My Chemical Romance / Original Signed Fine Art Print / Gerard Way / 2003 /11x14 (from ebay)

Museum quality archival pigment print, photographed and signed by Justin Borucki (borucki.com). 

Pictured: My Chemical RomancePrint size: 11" x 14" Shoot date: 2003

Location:  Bar 81 on E 7th st NYC 

(Don’t want all the writing on it?)

Kiss me, I'm Irish ☘

Just a little smutty Friends to Lovers (with no pining!) fun for this holiday, dedicated to @swallowedsong for various reasons. Sláinte! (rated M, 3000 words, AO3)


She almost choked on her green beer as her best friend’s feet came up off the ground as the burly, flanneled lumberjack (well, big guy in flannel shirt) at the bar planted a smacking kiss right on those unsuspecting lips. She’d told Killian what would happen if we wore that shirt, but he didn’t listen. Emma’s laughter is lost in the packed pub filled to the brim with St. Patrick’s Day revelers, but she knows Killian hears it, his telltale eyebrow lifting as Paul Bunyan releases him and gives him a jovial pat on the back.

“You had to know that would happen at some point, lad.”

“Aye, mate…sláinte!”

Emma shakes her head at Killian’s seemingly unflappable facade, watching as he shares a big grin and a toast with his kissing buddy at the end of the bar. But as he makes his way back to her she can see the signs of his mild embarrassment in the red glow of his pointy ears to the sheen of sweat at the hollow of his throat.

“Regretting that shirt yet?”

“Why Swan? That was the best kiss I’ve had all night.”

Keep reading

I found this and… yeah you might guess who this is.


Drunkira’s reign continues. Omg I just thought of a HC where he has to use speech-to-text because his texts can’t be deciphered otherwise. Like he uses a gross amount of emojis and weeb talk like uwu or ‘h-hewwo?’. (submitted by @midnightwerewoolf)

anonymous asked:

that gifset is great also because i think mike lawson realizes it took less than 3 months to develop real legitimate feelings for ginny baker and want to run across the country to escape them. like he has feelings for the one person he is not allowed to have feelings for and he can't fall in love with his 24 year old rookie pitcher. i also feel that maybe falling in love with rachel wasn't this easy or this quick. it is not just love but admiration, desire, and he just adores her.

for sure! the man is 100% aware of how ridiculous his crush on/adoration of/love for Ginny Baker is. and how off-limits she is, too. 

yet, there he is, with these massive, inconvenient, all-consuming feelings for this phenomenon pitcher. Feelings that he’s definitely gonna run from to avoid detonating every good thing in his life, only to do exactly that with the failed trade.

I do think you make a good point on the Rachel front. When she says, “You like chasing. You don’t like having,” it sounds like she’s speaking from experience. So, maybe Mike knew right away that Rachel intrigued him and he wanted to know her better, but he probably didn’t fall for her as fast as he’s fallen for Ginny. And if she was playing hard to get, then it definitely wasn’t easy. 

In the end, I think with Rachel, both when he first met/dated her and when he was trying to get her back, Mike was looking for a romantic partner. I’m sure this man who came from such a dysfunctional home life, had a lot of idealized visions of what being in love is like. And maybe Rachel ticked most, if not all, of those boxes. 

But then along comes this upstart pitcher, and she absolutely sneaks up on him.

And honestly, the way she makes him feel is better than he ever could have imagined.

Originally posted by supagirl

Rewatching season 1 of ‘Wynonna Earp’, and listen…

Waverly’s shirt getting stuck wasn’t her first fumble. It was the fact that she forgot how to be Waverly, (ya know, smart and logical) the moment she caught Nicole’s eyes on her sopping wet shirt.

I mean really. What was her plan for taking off her shirt in the middle of the bar? Did she have a spare shirt hidden under the bar counter? Why not just excuse herself upstairs? Or, if she didn’t want to seem rude, why not just keep the cloth close by?

This girl was so thrown by Nicole’s charm that she couldn’t think straight. And it was amazing.

TCA 2017 - OUAT PANEL
  • New #OUAT photos being shown on screen and I’m getting really jazzed about what I’m seeing (x)
  • Kitsis says around Season 4 they began planning for a “reboot”/“new chapter” after Season 6 (x)
    • Kitsis says they knew it was time to start writing towards the end point in Season 4 (x)
    • co-creator Eddy Kitsis says around season 4 is when they realized they wanted to write to an end point. Had 6-season plan. (x)
  • Henry is in a new book with new stories but with some familiar characters. (x)
    • “A new curse, in a new town.” Grown up Henry takes on the challenge with his newly-discovered daughter (x)
  • The new city location can open things up in tone and the kind of stories they’ll tell - David H. Goodman (x)
    • Season 7’s setting Hyperion Heights in Seattle is a big city versus “small bucolic” Storybrooke, Maine. (x)
  • As previously teased, new season will feature new curse and a new town with new characters, but we’ll see some familiar faces (x)
  • What began as a fandom for the show now has a life of its own. #OUAT allows fans to escape to a world they feel safe in – O'Donoghue (x)
  • “Episode 2 is going to answer what is happening with Emma and Captain Hook,” Edward Kitsis promises. (x)
    • Ep 2 answers what happened to Emma and Hook, Ep 4 will answer the same for Belle and Rumple (x)
  • “What happened in the first six seasons of the show remains deeply in the DNA of the series going forward,” (x)
  • Part of the reason for the new direction/reboot is to make sure they don’t retcon their own mythology. (x)
    • “Part of reason for new direction” is to avoid retconning 6-year-old storylines, “not beholden” to established mythology. (x)
  • Henry/Cinderella will be the “epic romance” a la Season 1’s Snow/Charming. (x)
    • Henry and Cinderella will be the “epic romance” on #OUAT’s new chapter, with parallels between the Snow and Charming relationship. (x)
    • We’ll see various time periods of Henry & Cinderella’s stories/lives (x)
  • Hook is now a uniformed cop in Seattle when we see him again (x)
    • “There’s a sense of loss there, and he just doesn’t know what it is that’s missing.” - Colin O'Donoghue (x)
    • There’s a sense of loss in him, and he doesn’t know what it is that’s missing. He’s striving to find who he is (x)
  • “The episodes of this season that I’ve read are in all honesty the best that I’ve read in any season so far” - @colinodonoghue1 (x)
    • All told, Colin and Lana seem very stoked about the reset. Colin says S7’s first four scripts are among the best he has seen. (x)
  • “I don’t think her name is Regina, and that’s cool.” - @LanaParrilla on the new version of “Regina.” (x)
    • “I dont think her name is Regina, and thats cool. I’m in denim and rock t-shirts. She’s a bar owner.” (x)
    • “It’s fun to be a part of something that’s constantly evolving” - @LanaParrilla (x)
  • “We know the characters inside and out, but [it’s like] we’re playing them for the first time,” Colin O'Donoghue (x)
  • Adam on cast changes: Just because we said goodbye to people doesn’t mean we won’t be seeing them again. (x)
    • Characters not currently in the reboot will return and make appearances in the future. (x)
  • No magic in Seattle, but it’s still in The Enchanted Forest. (x)
    • “Seattle is going to be the modern day, and there’s not going to be magic on that side” - Edward Kitsis (x)
  • The emotional, grounded stories will be contrasted with the magic of the Fairy Tale world (x)
  • They won’t tell us Regina’s new name. “The Queen Formerly Known As Regina will also work,” Edward Kitsis teases. (x)
  • Regina and Henry meet again in a flashback, but she’s never seen him as an adult before & she’s taken aback. (x
    • Regina & Henry haven’t seen one another in years. Lana says that her character has never seen Henry “as a grown man” before S7 (x
  • They interact in two different worlds – the fairytale flashback and in Hyperion Heights (x
  • “You see these two characters interact in a way that you’ve certainly never seen,” Andrew J. West (x)
  • Edward Kitsis compares it to when Emma would talk to Mary Margaret, not knowing that she’s her mother in Season 1 (x)
    • As their cursed selves, NotRegina and Henry don’t know each other. Will reflect Emma + Mary Margaret were in S1. (x)
How To Tell Ned (Part 2 to I Knew It!)

Word Count: 1326

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader Soulmate AU

Featuring: Peter Parker, You, Ned Leeds, Michelle

Summary: The day after finding out who your soulmate is, you have to face everyone at school. Questions are dodged, and friends get frustrated throughout the day.Part 2 to I Knew It!

Warning: Slight Spider-Man: Homecoming Spoilers ahead. 

Request: Anon said: Please do a part 2 to the soulmate story. It’s amazing 😚😚

A/N: Here you guys go! Part 2! I never was planning on doing one, but after seeing the request I decided to do one. And boy, am I glad that I did. I really like this. Sorry if Ned and Michelle are out of character. It’s my first time writing either of them.

Originally posted by parkerpete

Part 1


Your POV

“Wait, how do we tell Ned?”

That was a good question. It probably contributed to Peter staying at your house until 3 am, but not too much considering all that had happened.

After your tears of joy finally stopped, and both you and Peter agreed there was some explaining to do, the conversation got interesting. And by that, it means you slapped Peter in the face for not telling you he was Spider-Man when apparently the rest of your friend group knew.

He tried to defend himself, saying Ned found out on accident, and Michelle pieced it together herself after DC, but you still grilled him about it.

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