sorry i took these with my phone

Yuuri has a picture of Victor and him as his lockscreen and wallpaper, maybe from their day at the beach or a picture someone took during their pair skate or a picture from practice where they are both sweaty and laughing and so in love.

But Victor has (two different) pictures of just Yuuri and he changes them a lot (because he takes a lot of pictures of Yuuri and would like to use them as a wallpaper all at the same time), and every time he opens his phone he just forgets what he was about to do and stares at the picture for a full five minutes, marvelling at the beauty of his husband.

And one time, Yuuri uses Victor’s phone because his own is dead (when Victor is still in the shower or sth bc you know The Hair) and Victor’s lockscreen is a picture Yuuri didn’t even know existed of him looking out over the city lights of Saint-Petersburg with a small smile around his lips while he’s absentmindedly patting Makkachin, and his heart just swells until he can hardly breathe, and he figures out how to make your phone switch wallpapers every time you open them and takes a bunch of selfies where he blows kisses and makes funny faces and just smiles, but he leaves the lockscreen the way it is. And now every time Victor opens his phone, his heart stops beating for a moment and whenever one of the pictures appear Yuuri took, he immediately calls him if he’s not around to tell him how much he loves him and asks him to get married again.

fake dating! zimbits

It was only by a stroke of luck that Jack happened to look at his phone just as he exits the lecture hall. The group chat was blowing up – the group chat was always blowing up these days – but the lack of all-caps or exclamation marks caught his attention right away.

Eric Bittle: Guys, I wouldn’t ask this of y’all if I really didn’t need this, but I have to ask a HUGE favor of one of you.

Shitty Knight: brah are you dying

Justin Oluransi: You can have my kidney, Bits.

Adam Birkholtz: u aren’t gonna save that for me just in CASE, JUSTIN?

Larissa Duan: shit, bitty, r u ok

Eric Bittle: Um, yeah, mostly, I just…..need someone to pretend to be my boyfriend.

Keep reading

my experience with adhd
  • I don’t even remember putting that thing down but now it’s not in my hand and I don’t know where it went
  • ‘what do you mean you can just think about nothing? what’s that like? I don’t understand’
  • *tuning out of a conversation halfway through somebody else’s sentence because I just thought of something interesting*
  • carrying my psychiatrist’s business card with me at all times because I see her once a month and every time I go I forget what floor her office is on. I’ve been there 8 times
  • ‘Between A & B, A would be the right thing to do’ *a cascading thought process that takes a few seconds tops, justifying option B* ‘actually B would be the right thing to do’
    • somebody else, later: why did you think B was the right thing to do??
    • me: …. it’s not important, I’ll know better next time
    • (spoiler: I won’t know better next time)
  • I know you already told me this thing like 12 times but can you tell me again just one more time because I forgot
  • it’s not that I forgot that I wasn’t supposed to do this thing. it’s just that in that particular moment i thought it was okay to do it anyway for reasons that would take 48 minutes to explain even though it only took me 3 seconds to justify it in my thoughts, so it’s easier for me to just say ‘I forgot’
  • ‘I already told you that’ ‘really? I must have forgotten, i’m sorry’ ‘it was FIVE MINUTES AGO. in this SAME CONVERSATION’
  • this internal conversation:
    • me: I feel motivated to do this responsible thing
    • me: if I don’t do this responsible thing right now I will get distracted and forget to do it for another 5 hours
    • me: so I should do this thing right this second, there is nothing stopping me
    • me: after I finish this one cell phone game
    • me, 5 hours later: I KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN
  • almost flunking a class because I straight up didn’t know any homework had been assigned despite loving the class and always attending
  • trusting the memory of literally anyone else over my own memory
  • intending to do something for days. sometimes months. never doing it
  • *cuddling somebody* mm this is nice … *2 seconds later* bored now
  • somebody is mad at me. I might as well fucking d i e
  • the options in company are: overshare about the one thing I care about or not talk at all
  • insensitive or inattentive? YOU decide (and when you tell me that i hurt your feelings and I didn’t notice I’ll rejection sensitive dysphoria into fantasies of disappearing forever)
  • being excellent at my job for months on end, doing everything right and everything well, and then suddenly & without explanation being t h e  w o r s t at it for several weeks, making dumb mistakes everywhere for no discernible reason
  • when asked to explain something: well it all started when I was a baby
    • ‘they don’t need that much explanation’ well YOU tell ME where to start b/c I have no fucking clue tbh
  • i can’t throw away anything b/c when I look at it I remember all the sentimental reasons I keep it around and they seem just as important as actually needing it and when I close the storage box back up I forget I had it in the first place until the next time I try to get rid of my clutter and repeat this process
  • i wasnt’ idle for a second all day and yet I didn’t accomplish a n y t h i n g
  • am i a speed-reader or was I so impatient for what came next that I read only half a page and then skipped to the next one?
  • getting excited about a project, starting it, then racing to finish it as fast as I can because when I get bored I’ll abandon it and never go back. must beat the boredom
    • edit my fics? working twice on the same idea? /uproarious laughter
    • well I fucked that up. too bad I can never rework it because I no longer have passionate energy for it
  • me, opening a bottle of adhd meds: I don’t have adhd. I’m just a lazy bum who doesn’t try hard enough
Foreign

Plot: Jimin always thought his traditional Korean girlfriend was perfect – that was, until he realized how beautiful foreigners could be.

Pairing: Idol!Park Jimin x Backup Dancer!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Notes: I based this off of every single MTL I have seen of BTS dating a girl of a different race or a girl of color – Jimin always seems to be one of the people who were least likely to date one. I definitely do not think that Jimin is this ignorant in any way. This is only a work of fiction. This is for all the international beauties! 2,536 Words

Familiar | masterlist

Originally posted by bwipsul

“Oppa, I’m missing you so much!”

“I’m missing you too, my love. Don’t worry, I’ll be back in a few days, okay?”

One of the worst parts about tour was leaving lovers behind. For Jimin, it wasn’t only his lover, it was his home. He enjoyed tour, performing for all of the ARMYs around the world, going on stage; but he wasn’t a huge fan of being in a foreign country. He didn’t know English that well, and he wasn’t fond of being in a place where he couldn’t understand anything. 

“I know,” The soft voice of his significant other brought pink to his cheeks. “Call me when your rehearsal is over.”

“I will, I love you,” He glanced at the leader of his band, who was calling him over.

“I love you too.”

With that, he had ended the call with a sigh, and headed over to his band. It hadn’t even been a few minutes since he cut the call, and he was already missing her – a thought he had experienced after each long-distance conversation with his lover. The short male shook his head and got his head back in the game, his eyes going up to meet a group of people dressed in black.

“This is your dance crew for this city,” The manager announced to the band. “Not all of them know Korean, so if you have an queries, just talk to Jihoon. He is the leader.”

“We understand.”

Once that brief introduction was done, they were all left to their own devices for a few minutes, whilst the leader of the dance team talked to the leader of the band. Jimin had let himself scan over the people he would be working with; not that he would talk to them, he was just curious and bored. Most of them had masks on – no one had really caught his eyes, except for one person. 

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

What do you think about an “i picked up your bag at the airport but i can’t find your number so i’m about to embark on the largest scavenger hunt of all time by using your strange belongings to track you down” au with charmer or nurseydex or zimbits or something??

Well, I don’t know if you expected three mini fics, and I didn’t fully follow the prompt, but here we are.

1. Charmer

Look, Chris knew it was dumb. He knew that everyone on earth had a plain black suitcase, he knew he should have double-checked the luggage tag, he knew it was important to be sure abut these things. But knowing what he should have done couldn’t help him when he finally got his suitcase home and opened it up to find mostly yoga pants and sundresses. 

Fuck.

He zipped the bag back up and flipped open the luggage tag. It was cute, pink with some metallic lettering saying “I’m outta here!” in a handwritten font. Chris blamed jetlag and the redeye flight for making him miss the fact that it wasn’t his Sharks tag. He blamed the bag’s owner for not filling out any of the information on the tag.

Dammit.

Well, sorry random girl, he thought. He opened the suitcase up again to try to see if he could find anything that would give him a clue as to who the suitcase owner was. He moved a makeup bag aside, and hit gold immediately. Well, Samwell red. A Women’s Volleyball tshirt– mystery suitcase girl had to be on the volleyball team.

“Hey Ransom!” he yelled. “You’re facebook friends with all the volleyball team right?”

“He’s friends with everyone on campus!” Holster yelled back.

“Ask their captain if anyone flew in from the Bay Area and lost their luggage!”

_X_

“Is Justin here? My captain said he’s got my suitcase.” Chris overheard her at the door. He grabbed the bag and started hauling it downstairs. As he set it down at the bottom and caught sight of the girl in the doorway, he froze. She was pretty. Like, really pretty. 

“Um, hi,” he said.

“So you’re Justin? Oh my god, I’m so glad it wasn’t some total rando who got my bag.” 

“I’m actually Chris, Justin was just the one who was friends with your captain. Um, I’m sorry, but I kind of had to look through your stuff? Your luggage tag wasn’t filled out.” The girl laughed.

“Yours wasn’t either! Me and my teammates were like one minute away from googling the record holder for most San Jose Sharks merch, but it totally makes sense that you’re on the hockey team.” 

“Since we both forgot to write our numbers down, maybe we should do that now?” Chris suggested. The girl grinned, grabbed his phone out of his hand, and opened up a new contact. She punched in a number, and when she handed it back he saw a text of several random emojis addressed to the new contact of “Caitlin Farmer” with a girl farmer emoji and a volleyball emoji.

“Text me sometime, and maybe we can get dinner?” she said, and she was gone with her suitcase. 

Chris collapsed on the couch, a dreamy look in his eyes.

“Chowder? You get your suitcase back?” Bitty called out from the kitchen.

“Yeah! and I think I’m in love now!”

2. Nurseydex

“Cheryl, I’m telling you, I had a ton of inspiration on the plane and I wrote some great stuff for act three. No. No, it wasn’t just me thinking it’s great because I popped some melatonin and got really sleepy. It’s like, legit. Yeah, I’ll send it over as soon as I get home and–”

Derek slammed into something. If he’d been holding his phone in his hand (bluetooth is a blessing when you drop stuff easily) it would have launched across the airport. As it was, his post-flight latte was soaking through the nice white shirt of the handsome stranger in front of him.

“Shit,” the stranger said, looking down to survey the damage.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have trusted myself to make a phone call and not be clumsy after such a long flight,” Derek said. He set his briefcase down and pulled a wad of napkins out of the outside pocket. The guy took a deep breath, going from murderous to calm in a few seconds. 

“I wasn’t looking where I was going either, it’s not your fault,” the guy said, setting down his own briefcase and accepting the napkins. He blotted at his shirt.

“Let me pay for the dry cleaning. Or a replacement,” Derek offered. The man shook his head.

“It’s fine, it probably needed to go to the cleaners anyways.” He checked his watch. “If I run, I can probably get a new one before my meeting.” He wadded the napkins into one big ball, picked up his briefcase, and walked towards the exit with a terse nod. Derek, feeling terrible about the whole thing, picked up his own briefcase and walked to baggage claim.

By the time he was reunited with his home office, a cozy bookshelf-lined room in his brownstone, he had almost forgotten about the coffee incident. He was focused on sending the manuscript to Cheryl. Unfortunately, that was going to be difficult, considering he pulled a PC laptop out of the bag instead of his Mac.

Derek stared at the computer for a full minute. He almost couldn’t believe that this was happening to him. Hesitantly, he opened the laptop. On one side of the keyboard there was a weird thing that a few seconds of phone googling told him was a fingerprint scanner. Shit. He hit the space bar experimentally. Something flashed on the screen, and then was replaced with just a plain black screen with red text: ACCESS DENIED

Derek swore. He started to look through the rest of what was in the briefcase, but was disappointed to find it empty except for the laptop’s charger, three packs of gum, and receipts from a lobster shack in Maine. Shit. Nothing in here would tell him anything about the redhead he’d launched a latte at. 

He closed the laptop dejectedly, ignored his editor’s text messages, and went into the kitchen to make himself lunch and feel sorry for himself. This was the universe punishing him for covering a cute guy with coffee. If he had just kept his focus and waited to call his editor later, he could have sent the draft along and saved it and not be desperately trying to remember his inspiration.

Just as the self-pity spiral was really taking off, the doorbell rang. Derek sighed, put down his tea, and walked to the door. When he opened it, it wasn’t Girl Scouts or Jehovah’s Witnesses, but the guy from the airport.

“Cancel whatever you’re doing today, I need to teach you the most basic principles of digital security,” the guy said, pushing past Derek into the dining room. He shoved a stack of papers onto a chair and pulled Derek’s laptop out.

“I’m Will, by the way, I make software that’s hopefully a step ahead of viruses.”

“Is the draft still there?”

“The draft of what?” The guy looked confused.

“My third act breakthrough. I’m a novelist, I need to get it to my editor and I couldn’t remember if I saved it,” Derek explained.

“You know you can set up an auto-save every five minutes or so, right?” Will asked.

“This might be surprising to you, but I’ve never had a cute guy storm into my house and yell at me about computers before.” Will looked up from Derek’s computer, blushing.

“I haven’t had a cute guy dump a gallon of coffee all over me and steal my laptop before, either, but here we are.”

“Maybe you can yell about computers over lunch with me?”

3. Zimbits

Button downs. Tank tops. Slacks. Shorts. Three rolling pins. A pie tin. A half-emptied multipack of sharpies.

No lucky puck. No clothes in his size. No jerseys.

Jack sighed. It would just be too much to ask for anything to go well today. He picked up his phone to call someone with the Falconers, in the hope that they could talk to the airline and sort all this out. At the same time, his phone lit up with Tater’s face.

“Zimmboni! Look on twitter. Small internet baker has your suitcase!” Tater hung up before he could reply, so Jack just opened twitter instead. 

omgcheckplease: A bunch of pucks, some dirty jerseys, and a history textbook. Either I’m back in college or this isn’t my suitcase.

omgcheckplease: .@falcsofficial please tell your #1 player to DM me and come get his shit

omgcheckplease: and @falcsofficial tell him to give me my shit back. my hockey days are in the past, I need rolling pins, not a mouthguard

Jack smiled and laughed in the way a person laughs when they’re alone, just blowing more air than normal out of his nose. He looked through the twitter for a minute– the guy, Eric Bittle, was a Providence-based chef, whose latest tweets were mostly greetings to the various cities he’d been visiting on tour. Jack clicked the media tab on the account, and looked through the pictures. Bittle was cute. He wrote a reply.

zimmboni: .@omgcheckplease how do I send u a DM

omgcheckplease: .@zimmboni you don’t deserve to be verified, oh my god #verifybittle2k17

A few seconds later another notification popped up, and he tapped it to be brought to a DM window.

omgcheckplease: hey! sorry about the mixup. I can only imagine how confused you were to find all my book tour stuff.

zimmboni: Probably as confused as you were finding hockey stuff?

omgcheckplease: I wasn’t joking in my tweets, I did play hockey before I got into the whole cookbook/food show thing

zimmboni: Exactly, I did a book tour last year in the off-season :-)

omgcheckplease: oh my gosh, isn’t it the best and the worst?

zimmboni: I know. It’s great to meet people and talk about your work, but it’s exhausting.

omgcheckplease: that’s why I’m so excited to be back in Providence! at least until the next cookbook.

zimmboni: Well we should probably meet up to trade suitcases. Want to meet somewhere for dinner?

omgcheckplease: don’t trust me to learn where your house is?

zimmboni: I mean, if dinner goes well enough…

omgcheckplease: OH. okay, then, Mr. Zimmermann, it’s a date.

Jack smiled to himself, and got ready for his date.

5

fun fact about me: im loVe coloring books !!!! it was the only thing i used to enjoy when i was little, and i was really good at it. now tho? not so much. but anyways, i still love it? annnd it helps a lot with my anxiety and keeps me distracted, so thank u so much to @voltroncoloringbook and @pjocoloringbookproject for this! and of course, all the artists behind it.


[ @indigonite, @cookiecreation, @bunbunsie, @bibinella, @littlestpersimmon. ]

So I got bored and checked the weather for both Almaty and St. Petersburg and they're hilariously different so here's an otayuri drabble

Why the hell Yakov was making him practice in this heat, Yuri had no idea. But he hated him for it.

Sure, it wasn’t drastically hot, but 19°C was hot for St. Petersburg, and Yuri could be enjoying the weather if A: it wasn’t so humid, and B: Yakov wasn’t making him practice.

Yuri tipped his head back, the vertebrae in his neck creaking and tense muscles stretching.

“Hey Yakov-”

“Give me a perfect triple axel into a spread eagle and you’re free to go.” The old man told him, drinking from the water bottle handed to him by Lilia.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Yuri said, exasperated. “In this heat?”

“Vitya’s been making Katsuki practice his quads all day, at least I’m not that cruel.” Yakov shrugged.

“Actually, I’m doing this voluntarily.” Yuuri called, taking off and landing a frustratingly perfect quad flip.

“I’ve been trying to make him come home for hours Yakov, this is none of my doing.” Viktor groaned, leaning against the barrier and wiping his brow.

“You said it yourself Vitya,” Yuuri shrugged, pulling off an effortless triple axel into a spread eagle. “I’m going to need to try my best to beat you.”

“I’ve created a monster. I’m doomed.” Viktor sighed defeatedly, gazing at Yuuri.

“And Yurio-” He started, trailing lazily around the rink.

“Don’t call me that.”

“I’m not stopping until I have both records, so I suggest you watch yourself.”

“Getting cocky, now are we, Katsudon?” Yuri asked, cocking a brow.

“Well it’s not the only thing I’m getting.” Yuuri shrugged, taking off into a perfect quad salchow, winking at Viktor as he landed.

“What the fuck have you done to him, Vitkor?” Yuri asked, slightly disgusted at the innuendo.

“I don’t know!” Viktor said exasperatedly.

“Alright, that’s it.” Yakov sighed. “Katsuki, get your ass out of my rink before you kill yourself.”

“I’m not even tired though.” Yuuri sighed, taking off into a quad loop.

“You’re hell bent on destroying my skaters and I can’t have that. Get out before you hurt yourself.” Yakov said firmly.

“But-”

“Yuuri.” Mila started. “We adore you, you’re sweet and talented and everything but with every jump you land, Yakov pushes us that much harder, so please, for the love of god, get the fuck out of the rink.”

“Okay, okay.” Yuuri sighed, finally skating off of the rink, Mila earning an exhausted ‘thank you’ from Viktor, who followed behind Yuuri.

“Yura. Triple axel. Now.” Yakov said firmly, folding his arms.

“Seriously?!”

“Yes. Now.”

“I’d like to see you do it, old man.” Yuri huffed, crossing his arms.

“Just do it, Yuri.” Yuuri called. “Anyway, we’re leaving for today, guys.”

“Finally!” Georgi groaned.

“Please take like, the next week off, you’re making us look bad.” Mila joked.

“No actually do, you’re driving me insane.” Yuri called.

“And Yakov said I couldn’t coach anyone.” Viktor smirked, pecking Yuuri on the cheek.

“Just leave already.” Yakov sighed. “Yuri, triple axel. I’m waiting.”

“For fucks sake, do I have to?”

“Do you want to lose the Olympics?”

“… fine.”

“That’s what I thought.”


Yuri unlocked his dorm, dumping his duffle bag at the door and kicking his shoes off. It’d been a week since Yakov and Lilia’s asshole of a son kicked Yuri out of his mother’s house.

He stalked over the mini fridge in the corner of his room, opening it and pulling out a cold can of fanta, wrenching open the tab and flopping down on his bed.

He pulled his phone out of his back pocket, unlocking it and opening up whatsapp, ignoring the 689 missed texts from the Barcelona GPF group chat and scrolling to Otabek’s contact, selecting video call.

Otabek picked up after around the 3rd ring, and the imagine Yuri was greeted with wasn’t what he expected.

A flushed, tanned, sweaty, muscular chest and a giggling little girl in the background. The camera shakily carried up to Otabek’s face, where it was obvious that he older boy was fast asleep.

“Bekaaaa!” Giggled the little girl, a bony little hand with garish pink nail polish and ratty bracelets pressing down on Otabek’s chest. “Oyanw! Beka! Käne Beka!”

Otabek made a weird noise between a snort and a squawk, eyes snapping open suddenly as he lurched forwards.

“Sälem aytşı Yura!” The little girl giggled.

“Natya…” Otabek murmured groggily. “Nege telefonım bar?” He asked, reaching for the phone and pulling the little girl to the side. “Bul öte jaramsız.” He scolded, blowing a raspberry into the little girl’s cheek.

“Um… is this a bad time?” Yuri asked awkwardly, taking a sip from his soda can. “I can go…”

“Crap! Yura, I forgot. Sorry, I fell asleep and my little sister took my phone-”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” Yuri shrugged. “It’s kinda cute.”

Otabek laughed, ruffling his sister’s messy black hair.

“Sälem Yura!” She grinned, waving at the screen.

“She says hi.” Otabek grinned, translating.

“Hi Natalia.” Yuri smiled, waving back, earning a gap-toothed grin from the little girl.

“Natya, Siz bizden kete alasız ba?” Otabek asked his sister, slipping back into his native tongue.

She nodded, waving at the screen.

“Bayt Yura!” She giggled, running off.

“She’s adorable.” Yuri smiled, sipping from the can again.

“I know.” Otabek grinned.

“Did you teach her to call me that?”

“Call you what?”

“To call me Yura?”

“She’s called you that since she saw you on TV at the Russian Nationals two years ago.”

“Why though?”

“Don’t look at me, she just does.”

Oh, Yuri was look at him.

“Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?”

“Huh?”

“You’re half naked. At least I think you are… I can only see your chest.”

“I’m wearing underwear if that’s what you’re asking.” Otabek snorted, flashing Yuri a crooked grin.

“Really? No pants?”

“It’s too hot.” Otabek shrugged, reaching for a something offscreen and bringing a glass of water to his lips.

“Seriously? Isn’t it like, 19°C? Kinda pathetic. And that’s coming from a Moscow native.”

“It’s 36°C over here.” Otabek said flatly.

“Damn, your coach makes you practice in that heat?” Yuri asked incredulously.

“Nah. Training’s cancelled. He’s passed out in the porch.”

“Lucky bastard. Yakov’s been forcing me to train.” Yuri huffed.

“Watch your language, Yura. My family is in the vicinity.”

“I’m like 300 miles away they can’t hurt me.”

“My cousin will find you. You know what Aleks is like.”

“And I hope you boys are keeping it PG-13!” Came the call of cousin in the background, causing Otabek to flush slightly.

“ALEKS!”

“I’m just saying! Your mother wouldn’t be too happy if she saw you-”

“Aleks, sabırlılıqtı toqtatıñız Beka!” Came a call.

“Dude I can hear like, your entire family, where are you?”

“In my back yard.” He shrugged, switching the camera so Yuri could get a view of the lush, green garden, and the hammock Otabek was laying in.

“Its huge!” Yuri gasped. “Your family must be loaded!”

“My mother was an Olympic silver medalist. That kind of set us up for quite a while, then I started to send money home whenever I got it.” Otabek shrugged. “Joq, Natya, şlangini tömenge ornatıñız!”

Yuri heard giggling in the background, along with running water. Otabek shifted, the camera shaking a bit as he moved.

“My sister has a hose, I’m going inside.” He explained as a jet of water splashed behind him. “Nope nope nope nope. Not today.”

“Are you afraid of getting wet, Beka?”

“No I just don’t want to get- AH!”

“Are you okay?” Yuri asked, cocking an eyebrow at the maniacal cackling heard in the background.

“Yeah, my sister just got me in the ass while I was running inside.”

“Damn, good aim.”

“Yeah,” He said, camera shaking as he went up the stairs, opening the door to his room and pushing in. “Yura?”

“Still here.”

“I’m gonna need to change but I’m too lazy to disconnect the call, can I just put you against a pillow so you don’t see anything?”

“Sure.” Yuri shrugged, tossing his empty soda can into the trash.

The screen went a dark reddish-brown colour as it was pressed against the pillow, the camera suddenly flipping just as the screen went black.

Yuri could see Otabek pull away, turning around and pulling down the damp, dark grey boxers.

What the hell was Yuri supposed to do?!

The rational thing to would be to tell Otabek 'hey the camera accidentally flipped and I can see your ass and probably dick but I’m not sure’, but for some reason Yuri couldn’t speak.

Otabek turned in the direction of the camera, humming to himself as he stopped up the boxers and tossed them into the laundry hamper at the edge of his room, walking over to a chest of drawers and pulling out a pair of boxers.

Otabek quickly pulled the boxers on, rooting through the drawers and pulling out some shorts and a t-shirt, putting those on too.

He reached for the camera, which suddenly flipped back to front facing as it was being pulled away from the pillow.

“Sorry I took so long- Yura, are you okay?” Otabek asked, suddenly concerned.

“Y-yeah I’m fine. Why are you asking me?” Yuri stammered awkwardly.

“Your face, it’s all… red. Are you sure you’re fine?”

“Yeah yeah I’m fine! I’m just a bit hot and sweaty from practice, I should probably shower.” Yuri said quickly.

“Okay…” Otabek murmured, unconvinced. “If you don’t feel better after the shower, call Viktor or Yuuri or someone like that. And make sure you drink a lot of water. And eat properly. None of that energy bar nonsense-”

“Okay mom, jeez. I’m fine, really.” Yuri said, rolling his eyes.

“Don’t get smart with me, young man.” Otabek said jokingly.

Yuri rolled his eyes, snorting.

“Bye Beka.”

“I’ll see you later, okay? I’ll call you later.”

“I really can’t stop you can I?”

“Nope.”

Yuri laughed, ending the call and flinging his phone onto the other end of the bed and pressing his hands into his face.

Otabek is hung like a fucking horse.

——-

I just winged it ok sorry

2

“I know how my brother smells mom!” Laura rolled her eyes hopping over a branch while clutching the phone to her ear.

“well you were away for some time, it’s completely normal to forget a scent” Talia sighed shushing her husband who tries to help too.

“3 months mom, that’s all,” she pleaded “I remember how Derek smells like, and anyway who’s fault is it in the first place he took off into the woods?” Laura stopped and inhaled again to catch her brother’s path, a second scent mixed with it. a child?

“Cora said she is sorry for spilling coffee over his book” Robert said over the phone “she even going to clean his car when he gets his license” Talia chuckled.

“Dad! she’s seven!”

“ok, ill clean it” she could hear her father slouching out of the room muttering under his breath.

“i’m sorry Laura,” Talia huffed “are you sure you can find him yourself? he has gotten pretty good at covering his tracks”.

A laughing sound came from few feet ahead made Laura chuckle “oh don’t worry mom. i think i found our little bunny” she moved closer to look over the trees at the scene before her.

“Is that Derek laughing?” Talia keened

“It sure is, he’s with the stilinski boy”

“Stiles?!” Talia exclaimed.

“Yes and they are just adorable mom,” Laura cooed at her brother laughing with the small boy.

“Oh then leave them be honey, Stiles really missed him during the summer vacation” Talia chuckled.

“Apparently so did Derek” Laura rolled her eyes and started her walk back to the house.

Voltron Legendary Defender Theory Time: Voltron Origins

Or: a wildly speculative theory about Alfor and Voltron based on like… one scene in season 2 and a bunch of interesting coincidences.

So VLD season 2 gave us lots of juicy new information about the history of Voltron, thanks to Shiro’s visions in 2x07. We know that Alfor and Zarkon were actually friends, and that they built the Black Lion together on the Galra home world. Zarkon wasn’t just the original Black Paladin: he was also deeply involved in the construction of Voltron. Somehow, Zarkon and Alfor went from being best friends to mortal enemies; from building Voltron together to fighting over it.

We still don’t know a lot about the Galra before the war, although it’s implied a few times that they were close allies of the Alteans (we see Galra and Alteans working on the Black Lion together in 2x07). However, we do have some information about the Alteans. In 1x03, Allura says: “Alteans believe in peace first.” She tells Keith “Part of the Paladins’ mission is to spread peace and diplomacy.” In 1x10, Allura describes Alteans as “great explorers and diplomats” who use their shapeshifting ability to blend in wherever they go.

All of which raises a pretty fundamental question: why would the Alteans build Voltron in the first place?

Why would a race of peaceful explorers and diplomats with a code of non-violence build a huge super-weapon?

This question has bothered me since S1, along with the question of why Zarkon was trusted to lead Voltron, and how he went from that to conquering the known universe. Zarkon’s eventual flip to the Dark Side hasn’t been explained yet, but a couple of possibilities exist:

  • Zarkon was originally a Good Dude, but he became corrupted/evil somehow and decided he wanted to conquer the universe
  • Zarkon was always an Evil Dude, but he deceived the other Paladins and/or tricked them into making him the Black Paladin and handing him control of Voltron

Both of these scenarios necessarily involve Zarkon deceiving the other Paladins - including King Alfor - at least temporarily. Which seems like it would be difficult, considering everything Coran says about how close the Paladins were and how their minds needed to be open to each other. They also don’t explain why the Alteans would build Voltron - how exactly did a giant sword-wielding super robot fit into their plans for peaceful diplomacy and blending in with the locals?

Which brings me to the third possibility, which I’ve kinda been jokingly calling the Darth Voltron Theory b/c i’m a huge nerd who loves Star Wars:

Zarkon always intended to conquer the universe, and Alfor knew about it from the beginning and planned to help him. He and (some of) the Alteans naively believed that Zarkon’s invasion would unite the universe and bring order and stability - that it would ultimately be a force for good. Alfor helped Zarkon build Voltron as a weapon of conquest, because Zarkon needed the most powerful weapon ever invented in order to conquer the universe. But similar to the Blade of Marmora, Alfor eventually became disillusioned with Zarkon’s war and realised he was a bloodthirsty tyrant. He stole Voltron from Zarkon to try and make amends for his terrible mistake, kicking off the Galra/Altea war in the process.

If this were the case, the history of Voltron would make a lot more sense, if you think about it:

  • Zarkon wouldn’t need to deceive the other Voltron Paladins if they all drank the Kool-Aid and went along with his plans from the beginning
  • It would explain why Voltron was built on the Galra home world: the construction of such a powerful weapon probably went against the Altean culture of peace and diplomacy, and therefore it had to be built off-world
  • Zarkon’s proprietorial attitude towards the Black Lion makes more sense if Alfor literally built it for him to use in his war of conquest
  • Haggar’s close alliance with Zarkon and support for his tyranny is easily explained if Voltron was built by a group of Alteans who supported Zarkon: she could be one of the original builders of Voltron (if she can keep Zarkon alive with magic, she can keep herself alive as well, right?)
  • The Black Lion’s willingness to open up to Shiro and share visions of her past makes sense if she’s desperately trying to escape the role that Zarkon forced upon her

Although I don’t have a lot of direct evidence for the Darth Voltron theory, I want to point out two things in particular:

The only people we’ve seen pilot the Black Lion so far all have a Galra connection

  1. Zarkon, the original Black Paladin, is Galra
  2. Shiro, the new Black Paladin, has a Galra arm
  3. Keith, who pilots the Black Lion in 2x01, is revealed to be part Galra

I don’t think this means that in-universe, only a Galra can pilot the Black Lion, but I DO think it’s a significant detail on a meta level. We’ve never seen ANYONE without a Galra connection pilot Black. There’s a layer of symbolism here that seems to imply that the Black Lion belongs to the Galra.  It fits in with the wider symbolism of the show: Shiro’s right arm is taken by the Galra and replaced by a corrupted version; his bayard, which should be his ‘right hand’, go-to weapon, is taken by the Galra and corrupted by Zarkon; his right hand in Voltron (Keith; the Red Lion) turns out to be part Galra too.

Given how much this show loves symbolism, I think it’s significant that all the characters who have piloted the Black Lion on the show are connected to the Galra somehow. It ties the Black Lion closely to the Galra, as if it’s their weapon - which it would be if Alfor built it for them.

Shiro’s visions

In 2x07, Shiro goes to bond with the Black Lion, and she takes him on some kind of 'spirit journey’ to the Galra home world. When they first 'arrive’ at the Galra planet, the Black Lion shows Shiro a vision:

That’s the Black Lion, surrounded by Galra technology. You can see Galra battleships flying overhead, and the Galra symbol on the side of a pyramid beside the Lion. The Black Lion is clearly complete: the lights are on in her eyes and wings, and she’s outside the hangar. She’s ready for battle.

On a meta level, this vision is pretty interesting: it’s the first vision Black shows Shiro, and it’s the only vision that appears out of chronological order. It’s clearly something important and significant that Shiro - and the audience - needs to see. It’s also the only vision that looks visually Galra: the colour scheme (red and black; glowing pink quintessence) is reminiscent of other shots we see of the Galra battlefleet and the central system in Zarkon’s empire.

You can even see Zarkon standing on the Galra platform in front of the Black Lion, which is entirely consistent with this scene’s aesthetic. What’s not consistent, though, is who’s standing next to him…

IT’S ALFOR.

For comparison, this is Alfor and Zarkon standing next to each other in another vision from the same episode:

Same armour, same cloak, same colours. It’s definitely him.

Alfor’s presence in this scene is entirely incongruous with the rest of what’s going on. We already know Zarkon piloted the Black Lion, and it’s not a stretch to imagine he used her during the war until Alfor stole her back. Without Alfor, you could read this scene as a much later vision of the Black Lion being forced to serve Zarkon in his conquests. It doesn’t make sense to see Alfor standing next to Zarkon like this… unless you assume Alfor was helping Zarkon conquer the universe and that’s why he built him the Black Lion.

Alfor was in on Zarkon’s plans. He knew Zarkon wanted to conquer the universe - and he helped him build Voltron to achieve that.

So what do we think, Voltron fam? Who’s ready to join me on the Darth Voltron dark side?

{please excuse the terrible quality of the screenshots they’re literally pics i took with my phone}

Friends Part 4

Summary: You and Bucky are friends for a long time, but lately you start to develop romantic feelings for him. One day one of Tony’s parties everything changes but maybe not the way you wanted or expected.

Paring: Bucky x Reader

Words: 2643

Warnings: Fluffy, loads of Bucky being a cute pie some sexual innuendos and some sexual tension.

Thank you @amrita31199 you are amazing.

credits to the gif owner

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You take a sip of your coffee as you look at the computer in front of you; you are never going to understand why you accepted a job at the Stark Industries, sure they pay you really well but looking at budgets all day was starting to make you crazy.

To be honest, the budget in front of you is the least of your concerns, it’s been five days since Bucky went on a mission and you still haven’t heard from him. Usually, he texts you to let you know that he was alive and well. But so far nothing, according to Natasha they are fine but the mission is a lot more complicated than they anticipated.

You wish they would be home soon, you hated worrying much, you couldn’t sleep when you were worried.

You almost have a heart attack when you hear your phone ringing, you look at the id caller expecting it to be Dan but no it is Wanda. This is odd she never calls you “Hey Wan is everything fine?” Your mind goes to the worst scenario possible, afraid that something might have happened to Bucky.

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“I liked the building, not you.”

A/N: Hope this breaks my writing hiatus.  I tried to make this as realistic as possible. I might have more parts if you guys like it. 

Paring: Shawn X Fan

Word Count: 3,175


I wasn’t sure which neighbourhood I was in or how I exactly got there but I didn’t care. As I passed further into the blocks of residential houses the more they began to bloom with colour and greengage. I felt like I was returning home.

I continued listening to my music out of one earbud and ambled my way down the streets, the shutter on my camera never seemed to stop. Everything was perfect and it had been so long since I felt this way.

Toronto was good for me but it also was different. It was nothing like back home and after living on The Rock for my whole life I wasn’t used to change. Moving to Toronto I expected that my abilities would expand and flex but after the third month, I was feeling trapped. My source for photography was suddenly limited and I was trying to learn to adapt.

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