standing on a rooftop

idea: the joker, compelled even against his own interests to do whatever he thinks would be funniest. the joker may be a sadist with a really shitty sense of humor but even he knows a high-quality punchline when he sees one. his obsession with batman is rooted in batman’s unfailing ability to trick the joker into a better gag that gets him captured. the joker gets chased into a room with plenty of really great hiding places and escape routes, but also a slender pole in the middle of the room. he has to hide behind the fucking pole. he’s gotta. how can he not go for the hiding behind a pole gag. there’s three doors but there’s also a joker-shaped hole in the wall that will make it look like he broke through the wall. it’s a four-story drop into a bakery dumpster full of pies. the joker is obsessed with batman because deep in his heart he knows that batman is actually funnier than he is but instead he spends his time standing on rooftops in the rain being a stoic piece of shit. the joker is salieri, and batman is a mozart that decided to go into carpentry.

We Need To Talk About Ramona Blue:

TO EVERYONE WHO GAVE THIS BOOK ONE STAR WITHOUT READING IT:

First off, know that I am not going away. I am going to stand here and scream this from the rooftops as many times as I have to. Because I am tired of my voice and my story being drowned out. This book tells my story. If I get even one person to at least consider they might be wrong, if even one person buys this book because of me, then I’ve made a difference. 

I respect your opinion and based off of the original synopsis I completely understand why you felt that way - indeed I agree with you. I understand why the initial synopsis made you angry, really I do. The b.s. trope that lesbians (or any LGBT+ girl) can be ‘cured’ by finding the right boy is not just offensive and incorrect, but incredibly, incredibly harmful. And when it’s used as much as it is, it leads to people in the real world justifying their homophobic thoughts with - “I can f**k that girl, she’s secretly straight anyway. I can make her change her mind. She just needs the right guy.” Corrective rape is a very real danger and one that is directly impacted by words like those in that synopsis.

But this isn’t what the book is about. When the author, Julie Murphy @andimjulie, was informed of how offensive and harmful the synopsis/blurb was she started arranging to have it changed. Because here’s the thing: authors don’t get to write those. Some random person at the publishing house does. It’s that random person that made the harmful words and who misunderstood the book.

The new synopsis is up on this goodreads page now  . Please read it and maybe consider changing or removing your rating?

Because this book isn’t about 'lesbians can be cured.’ This book is about bisexual girls, girls just like me, who grow up not knowing that they are bi. Believing that because they like girls they must therefore be lesbians or because they like boys they must therefore be straight. I’m the latter; in this heteronormative world I spent years believing I was straight before I realised.

This book is for all the girls like me who think they fit into one box because they like someone and then one day, realise they have feelings for a different gender. It is about how confusing and scary and downright terrifying that is. It is about lying awake all night thinking “but does liking this boy mean i was straight all along?” “do i actually like him or is it because i’m supposed to?” it’s about worrying that you can’t change your identity because people already know you as a 'lesbian.’ Worrying that you’re just attention seeking or greedy or unable to make up your mind, that you’re on the fence and you need to choose.

This book is about the moment of relief when you finally find the name that suits you - bisexual. Or, perhaps when you decide that it’s okay to not know for sure right now. And how much weight is taken off you once you know who you are, and you have an identity.

I haven’t read the book yet but the new revised synopsis reflects that the book will actually be about those topics. You’re punishing the author for what someone else misunderstood and wrote as a harmful piece of promotion. Notice how different (and not harmful) the synopsis is now that it’s been written with the author’s suggestions instead of just by some dude? That to me suggests that the book itself, written entirely by her, will be much more like the new synopsis than the old one.

Oh, and you will also notice that I mentioned I haven’t read the book yet. So how then, you wonder, am I able to sit here and say that the book will be about all of the things above?

Because I am that girl. I went through all of those things. Mine was vice versa to Ramona - I believed that I had to be straight because I liked boys and if you like boys that’s all you can be right? Wrong. It was so, so hard for me to figure out who I am, where my place in this world is. It took me four years to get where I am (I’m 18 now). And I still haven’t finished this journey - my parents don’t know. I know, from reading this new synopsis, that that is what this book is about because I have lived it. I know because the author is bisexual, married to a man - she has lived it too.

Tumblr I just don’t get it. We cry and cry for more representation but when you have it you destroy it’s chances with negative reviews before it’s even begun. All because it’s the “wrong sort” of representation. You don’t want this bi girls story, my true story, because it shows that sometimes girls who like girls also like boys. Not always but sometimes. And sometimes we end up with those boys. 

Please, buy this book. Promote this book, please at least undo this low rating until you have read it. This book could have saved me so much heartache when I was fourteen. It could have let me know that I was not alone. It could have saved me six months of self-harm, an emotionally abusive relationship, bullying for being 'frigid.’

I didn’t have this book when I was facing all those things. But the next bi or pan girl could. We could save them.

Representation is important. Lesbian representation and positive, good representation at that, is important. But so is bi girl representation. And this book just happens to be one for the bi girls. This doesn’t have to be either or, bi girls existing doesn’t mean that lesbians do not. Please, let’s not harm each other’s chance at representation. Let’s support each other.

Please, at least let’s read this book before we give it a rating. Please help the next girl like me before she is hurt.

ML ANGST IDEA: Just like him

Gabriel Agreste is revealed to be Hawkmoth. Ladybug and Chat noir finally defeat him and he is arrested. Paris was shocked by the reveal, but was happy that hawkmoth was no more.

Adrien’s life was a cyclone of events after that. His Dad was in prison, his mom was still missing. Nathalie was his legal guardian, and his Dad’s company was being run by the board of directors until Adrien was of Age.

People started treating Adrien different, he could feel people treat him different. A lot of fake smiles, and nods. Photographers wanted to use Adrien as a model a lot less. Fan girls of his started trickling down. This part didnt bother Adrien that much, he never cared for that. But the way people treated him at school was different. Chloé was distant (One of the few blessings) saying that it might not look good being seen with Adrien right now, some of his classmates avoided talking to him. Kim teasing him about his Dad being a villain. Alya constantly questioning him about it (for the blog). The only two people who didnt act any different towards him were Nino and Marinette. Nino was his best friend and that wouldn’t change. Marinette was one of the sweetest people in existence, she could never be mean to anyone unless they absolutely deserved it.

The rest of the world seemed to think that he was the soon to be super villain! That he was some scorned rich kid plotting his revenge. It pissed him off, the fact that his Dad was a villain, the fact that everyone treated him coldly, the fact that he now lost both of his parents.

He began transforming a lot more. Chat noir was on the prowl every night. He would watch over the city. It was something to take his mind off of everything.

One Night Ladybug showed up to join him.


“There aren’t anymore Akumas Chat, we can relax.” Ladybug eased the cat hero. The two were standing on a rooftop in the middle of the night.

“I kind of wish there were…” Chat muttered under his breath. The night air suddenly felt much colder on the roof.

Unfortunately for the cat hero, Ladybug heard him.

“Don’t even joke about that. Without the akuma, the people are in a lot less danger. Paris is a lot better off without Hawkmoth.” Ladybug spoke.

“Is Adrien Agreste better off?” 

Chat noir didn’t even realized those words shot out of his mouth. The sharpness of the question pierced Ladybug right through the heart. How did Chat noir know about Adrien? Well it isn’t like Adrien isn’t a random kid, he was the son of the Fashion Tycoon turned super villain Gabriel Agreste. 

“Chat noir…”

“I can’t sleep anymore Ladybug.” Chat noir interrupted, which really didnt mean much as Ladybug was still at a loss for words.

Ladybug stood in silence as she waited for him to continue.

“I havent slept since the night before we captured him. I remember how ecstatic I was when we finally caught him. But when I saw his face… his real face. He had a son, Ladybug. He was the only parent left in Adrien’s life, and we just took him a way. I handed him over to the police…” Chat noir was on the brink of tears.

Ladybug hugged him from behind, tears slowly leaving her eyes to trickle down her cheeks.

“I never once realized any of this. But it isn’t your fault Chat, we were just doing our jobs. Adrien doesn’t deserve to lose his father over our actions. But Hawkmoth deserved to go to prison for his crimes. Sometimes being a hero means we have to make tough decisions. Deep down, I am sure Adrien doesn’t blame you for what happened.”

The night grew quiet once again as Ladybugs words reached Chat noir’s ears. For a moment, nothing but silence. But then, Chat noir started to laugh. Ladybug released her hug and backed up as she watched Chat noir cover his eyes as he laughed, tears streaming down his face.

“Chat?” Ladybug questioned nervously.

She watched stunned as he instantly stopped laughing and undid his transformation right in front of her, revealing the crying blonde rich kid that missed his father.

“But I do Ladybug.”


Thoughts?

Continuation here

“Am I at ninety-four yet?”

Neil asked.

He was not at ninety-four. Ninety-four was the whispered words, “Thank you. You were amazing.” They echoed inside Andrew’s head over and over, like they were an offering, a prayer, a goodbye, like they were pushed out of his body with his dying breath. It was irritating and he was going to bring it up on the bus. He was going to spell it out nice and slow how Neil needed to stop living like he was dying and start living like the exy junkie he was.

Ninety-five was turning around and seeing nothing. Not nothing in the sense that Neil was nothing, but nothing in the sense of panic, of worry, of standing on the edge of the rooftop looking down thinking “Would it hurt if I fell?” The space where Neil should have been filled with emotions that Andrew swore he would never feel again.

Ninety-six was finding his bag. It wasn’t the bag that held his entire life, that was locked away in the Fox Tower, safe. It was the bag that held his future. A future he knew Neil wanted in the way he clutched the key he gave him back in August. A key that was left in the God forsaken bag with Neil nowhere in sight.

For ninety-seven, Kevin was there. The other foxes were there too but the words Kevin formed with his breath passing over his voice box and the movements of his tongue and jaw, were the only things that mattered. Kevin’s mouth moved, sound traveled in vibrations through the air, hit Andrew’s eardrums, and then his hands were around Kevin’s neck. There were lies and half-truths and Andrew hated those. Again not in the sense he hated Neil but in the sense that he hated the word ‘please’ and ‘misunderstanding’. He hated how he didn’t hate Neil because of all the lies. And for that, ninety-seven.

Ninety-eight was the phone call that Neil had been found.

Ninety-nine was walking through the hotel door and seeing him crumple in agony. It was the hissed “Don’t” as he did his best sooth away the pain. It was the eyes that were Nathaniel’s with hints of Neil peeking out behind his irises. It was the look of a man staring helplessly as the executioner readied the guillotine. It was the words “I’m sorry” like he had something to be sorry for. It was his attitude that no matter how beat up he got, remained impeccably intact. And it was the question he still had the gall to ask: “Am I at ninety-four yet?”

“You are at one hundred.”

Rescue (Older!Damian x Reader)

Requested: Yes

Request: could i request an older!damian x reader imagine where the reader lives in a bad part of gotham and loves animals so every now and then she leaves food for stray cats and dogs and plays with/pets them and damian observes her for a while when he goes on patrol because he feels curious about her??? You can decide the ending :)
Summary: You save the life of a poor kitten by risking your own, only to be rescued by Robin.
Word Count: 1172

A/N: OK, so I altered the request quite a bit to write this!! I honestly was having so many issues writing the request as it was (I made Damian seem like a creep and had to scrap that and start over). So I owe credit to @thearkhamnedknight for helping me come up with this concept! I couldn’t have done this without her help!! I hope you’re happy with the changes anonymous requester! I’m pretty happy with the ending myself!

It was the loud boom that brought you out of the book you had almost finished. It was followed by screaming. That drew your undivided attention out the cafe window. Outside, you saw a huge tank-like vehicle running over cars. From its half white half purple paint job, you already knew it was Two-Face. As if to confirm your suspicions, the crazed ex-attorney stood up through some kind of sunroof, gun blazing as he fired off at the crowd. You stared on with wide eyed fear as he laughed maniacally.

You were about to duck under the table when you spotted the little white blur. It was a small kitten, darting through the street to find a place to hide. You watched it run beneath a parked vehicle on the curbside, not knowing it was in the direct path of danger. Your courage surged up and the urge to hide yourself was replaced by the need to save the innocent creature.

You kept your eyes on the scared kitten hunkering beneath the car as you walked through the cafe towards the glass door. You spared a glance towards the psychopath with a gun. He was luckily already occupied with the arrival of Batman and Robin. You dashed out of the building and headed straight to vehicle that was no more than 30 feet from the cafe exit. As soon as you got to it, you crouched down next to the passenger door and felt a new wave of fear as you realized how close all of the action was.

You ducked down and looked at the petrified kitten under the car. It meowed at you as it shook in its fur. You reached out slowly. It backed away a step, just out of your reach.

“Come here, kitty, kitty,” you called quietly, trying to sound soothing, but your voice was shaky. “Come here, little kitty,” you called again. It stared at you with big, green eyes. “I’m not going to hurt you,” you cooed as you left your hand still and open. Just as it started to step closer to sniff your fingers, a blast sounded from the opposite of the car. The cat spooked and took off like lightening towards you. Before it could escape into more danger, you snatched it up. It clawed you madly before it realized you weren’t trying to hurt it.

“There, there,” you cooed. You started to stand to run back into the cafe, to relative safety, until you heard the click of a gun behind you. You turned to see the barrel of an assault rifle only inches from your head. Your heart stopped and your arms tightened around the warm fluff, concealing it. Your gaze followed the barrel up to the face of the goon aiming it at you. Time seemed to move in slow motion.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. You tried to prepare yourself for what would be a fatal shot. You could only hope it wouldn’t hurt. But instead of the deafening sound of a gunshot, you heard a thud and a groan. When your eyes opened, you saw Robin standing on top of the gunman. Your eyes widened and you felt relief flood your body.

“What are you doing?” he demanded angrily. You were still in shock at the situation, so you simply moved your left arm to reveal the white kitten you were cradling in your right arm. His features softened for a moment, before gunfire rained down from the main fight only a few feet away now. He ducked behind the vehicle, incredibly close to you. His arm wrap around your back and he pulled you into his chest firmly.

“Hold on,” he warned. You used your free arm to cling to him as suddenly you were lifted off the ground and before you could blink, set on a rooftop. The bullets sprayed the building as the shooters tried to follow, but Robin pushed you down on the flat top, out of view. He crouched next to you, visually confirming that you weren’t injured.

“Stay here,” he ordered before leaping over the ledge and rejoining the fight. You obeyed and looked down at the white fluffy kitten. It was filthy, obviously a stray that was likely born in an alleyway near by. You smiled softly as it looked up at you with its large green eyes and meowed. It nudged its head under your hand and purred. You felt relaxed as you pet it gently.

“Well, it looks like we’re in this together now, huh?” you chuckled as you scratched the scrappy kitten’s little ear. As if it understood you, it answered with a meow and settled comfortably into your lap. It was at that time, you realized that the gunshots had finally stopped. You decided to take a risk and peek over the short wall that guarded you from the edge of the roof. First responders were everywhere. Reporters were beginning to appear to interview any witnesses.

“You could’ve gotten yourself killed, you know?” Robin spoke up from behind you. You turned and smiled at him.

“I wasn’t too worried about it,” you grinned. “I saved a life today, too,” you added as you presented the scruffy kitten. It meowed at him.

“What are we going to do with another pet, beloved?” he sighed as he pulled you to your feet and led you away from the crime scene.

“Alfred needed another cat friend,” you shrugged. “Plus, this little one has nowhere else to go,” you nudged him with your shoulder.

“He is quite cute,” he admitted and took the scrap of fur from your hands. The kitten began purring immediately and Damian smiled softly. “What should we name him?” he asked.

“Well, I haven’t decided yet,” you stopped and pulled your boyfriend into an embrace. He hugged you back with one arm, the kitten smushed in the middle in his other arm.

“I’m sorry I missed our coffee date, (Y/n)” he whispered into your hair. You looked up at him.

“I’m sorry my favorite coffee shop has been shot up for the third time before you’ve gotten to try it,” you offered with your odd sense of humor. He couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I’ll get there before it ends up out of business,” he promised. You leaned against him, taking pleasure in the warmth that emanated from him.

“I’ll see you at home, Robin,” you told him, slipping the baby feline out of his clutches. He kissed your forehead lovingly.

“Don’t wait up, it’s looking like a long night,” he answered. You just smiled.

“I’ll keep the first aid kit ready,” you stated before climbing down the fire escape. Damian waited until your feet hit the asphalt before he grappled off to join his father. You could barely see Bruce standing a few rooftops away waiting. You gave him a quick wave before you decided to head back to the townhouse you and Damian had made home for the last year

A/N: I really hope you like it! What would you name the kitten? 

i did not mean for this to be 5k words.  i was actually gonna stop after the rooftop scene but i have NO CHILL WHATSOEVER.  anyway ya’ll so this is the last part of homecoming, but there will be an epilogue, which i have already planned.

that being said!!!  i love you all so much for your kind words and nice comments and sweet messages.  i read every reblog for tags and comments and my heart swells when you tell me you enjoy my writing.  your feedback means so much to me and i love ya’ll.

title: homecoming, pt. 6 (or, rooftop confessions)
    ( part one, part two, part three, part four, part five )
fandom: hamilton
pairing: tjeff x reader
rating: M FOR SMUT
word count: 5444
tagged: @notalwaysfair @hamiltrash-life @aeichajoanes @polymath-pain-in-the-ass @blueco16 @yehummno @ask-aph-belarusian-figure-skater @robotic-space @iconic-sentiments @nadialinett14 @maybeterrance@noluckmonday @theresnofandomforthis @inimitabledaveed @kyloslightsaberdick @lawliette1031 @sammyfoundhis-shoe @aceplaysbass @jugjcnes @sandy-anakin @clamilton @unknown1200 @alienxsara @kanadianwithashippingproblem​ @nervous-crossbow

You have a high school reunion that you can’t miss, and you’re in need of a boyfriend to keep both your parents and your classmates off your back.  You don’t have a boyfriend — but you do have one very irritating, accommodating coworker.

Keep reading

you know i don’t think i’ve ever actually seen batman with a water bottle, even though you know that Mister I-Am-Prepared-For-All-Things-And-Eleven-Steps-Ahead-Because-I-Knew-You-Would-Only-Expect-Ten would never let himself or any of the robins get all dehydrated and headachey and muscle crampy. i’ve seen bruce wayne with a water bottle, but never batman, in full costume, standing on a rooftop with a matte black stainless steel double-walled bottle of water with a l'il yellow bat sticker on it. you know he tried a bat-shaped canteen and then gave up on it because it was too hard to clean. too many nooks and crannies. ‘but wouldn’t he make alfred clean it’ if you think bruce is capable of making alfred do any manual labor that he doesn’t want to you are sorely mistaken. took one look at that dumbass canteen and he just left the room. oh no, master bruce, i would never deny you the complete ownership experience of whatever the fuck this is that you thought would be a good idea this time. you go ahead and wash that yourself. two days later he’s got a sensible water bottle well-insulated enough that he doesn’t have to worry about condensation fucking up his grip. in an emergency it can be used as a bludgeon. robin has a water bottle but no one knows what it looks like because he never fucking brings it even though they have this conversation every goddamn night and it doesn’t matter if you get free slurpees from every gas station cashier you’ve ever saved from a robbery, that is not hydrating, drink some goddamn water and if you complain about having a headache later you’ll have only yourself to blame you horrible little sugar gremlin. 'okay but which robin’ all of them, they are all like this, barbara and steph never have a problem with bringing some goddamn water like a sensible person, why are boys like this.

“I don’t think you have to shout it from the rooftops, but I think you have to stand for something, and if you’re not standing for anything, you’re really just serving yourself, period, end of story. ‘California Gurls’ and fluffy stuff would be completely inauthentic to who I am now and what I’ve learned. I do believe we need a little escapism, but I think that it can’t all be that. If you have a voice you have a responsibility to use it now, more than ever.” - Katy for Vogue.

  • 13 year old me: Should I cut my hair short? I don't want to look gay...
  • Present me: [Stands on a rooftop wearing a pride flag and a glitter bra with the Pride soundtrack playing behind me shouting through a megaphone] IN CASE SOMEONE MISSED IT I HAVE AN IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT -

Idea: the bats give the villains a way to contact them after they realize that since many of the villains compete for resources, it would be in their best interests to report their competitors.

This is a very important idea because it comes with the image of Two-Face and Penguin yelling at each other in a back alley, deciding to report each other at the same time, and diving for their phones. Cobblepot frantically scrolls through his contacts while Harvey screams HEY SIRI CALL BATMAN into his speaker. If only they had put Batman on speed dial

Imagine: Being Tony’s favorite vigilante

Originally posted by tonystarkz

Tonight had been a hard night, you’ve got scraps beyond belief and you’re just exhausted. You lay on a rooftop seemingly safe from danger. Suddenly, you hear light foot steps and panic sets in, you’re too sore to move. You still can’t fathom what happened next, the Black Widow appeared in your vision.

“Hey there soldier,” Natasha smiled at you.

You looked around seeing who she could possibly referring to then you realized, its you. Natasha laughed at the shock on your face and extended her hand out to help you up.

“uh, thanks..” you said, very unsure of what was actually happening.

“By the way, I formally go by [Y/N].. ya know when I’m not being a vigilante.”

“Well, [Y/N], How would you like to join the Avengers?”

You once ajar mouth now gapes. You blink more than usual to see if this was some kind of dream.

“Does the pope take holy craps? Heck yea!” You jump up and down and do a little victory dance. Natasha just laughs and takes you by the hand. One moment your on a rooftop then you’re on the famed quinjet standing in front of the avengers.

“H-Hi..” you do a shy wave.

Everyone politely waves back but Tony Stark comes forward to examine you.

“Are you the Casquette? I admire your technique and technology! I’m dying to know, what does ‘casquette’ mean?” 

“uh thanks, I admire literally everything you do, casquette is french for casket, what they bury the dead in.”

Tony just nods excitedly, takes your hand and leads you to a seat so he can interrogate you further.

“Tell me everything!

In the background you hear Bruce whisper to Steve, “I’ve never seem him that interested in one of the recruits before.”

You can already tell that you’ll like it here in the avengers, it’s nice not to be alone.

((A/N: I’M SORRY IT’S SHORT BUT I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!))

i’m tired and wordy, so have this!! i might also post this to ao3, later, but WHO KNOWS.


“Hey Angus?”

It’s a warm afternoon, dying leaves strewn across town, and Angus’ hand is warm and big and comforting, and Gregg cannot believe it is real.

It has been- maybe not a bad day. Maybe just a bad week, because Gregg is finding something in his throat, a something that’s sharp and poky and not-good. He wants to shut his mouth, wants to say it’s nothing, but he can’t.

“Yes?” Angus asks. Good and amazing and perfect Angus, who says he loves Gregg, and Gregg believes him, he does, but! But!

He presses his foot down on a crack, thinks maybe it’ll break Her back. Probably not, but there’s a burning in his chest, a- a loathing that’s not his, that can’t be, except it is, because Gregg is weak, you see.

Gregg hates himself, at least today, at least yesterday, and he doesn’t know why Angus would love him.

Nothing, he wants to say, but what he does say is: “Why do you love me?”

Gregg wants to cry. Angus is still holding his hand, and there’s no pause or jump or moment where Angus goes oh damn, you’re right, I don’t really love you!!

He doesn’t deserve Angus. He’s going to ruin Angus, rot him, make him wither and die, and Gregg- well, shit, Gregg would rather kill himself than let that happen.

His wrists itches; there’s a knife in his pocket, because there always is, but Angus’ hand is warm and steady, and there.

“Why shouldn’t I?” Angus asks, soft, and Gregg knows he’s looking at him, but he doesn’t look back. He stares at the ground, instead, and thinks of sharp things, and roller coasters, and standing rooftops, feet to the edge.

He opens his mouth.

Closes it.

Angus tugs him close, and Gregg goes, because he’s weak, remember? He’s weak and when Angus wraps his arms around him, Gregg softens, because he doesn’t deserve Angus, but he can’t do the right thing, and cut himself out.

“I love you,” Angus says, pressing his muzzle to the top of Gregg’s head. He’s warm, and big, and Gregg could bury himself there, could lie down and never move, right here in Angus’ arms. “because you’re amazing. Because you saved me, and because you think, somehow, I’m worth you.”

Gregg wants to laugh, and he wants to cry, because it’s the other way around, really.

“I love you,” Angus says, and holds him close. “because you’re wild and you’re loud, and because when you smile, it’s like the whole world is okay. Like I’m not broken, like nothing is, like maybe everything is okay, and we’ll be happy.”

Happy- Gregg knows what that is, he does, but right now it feels too far away, too distant, and how can he possibly make the world seem like that?

“Also,” Angus says, in that tone Gregg loves. “You are very handsome.”

Gregg laughs.

It sounds kind of wet and shaky, which is weird, because Gregg doesn’t remember crying, but it’s fine, it’s whatever, because Angus loves him, and if Gregg doesn’t quite believe that, well, maybe that’s okay.

anonymous asked:

49 please!

49) things you said when we were 18

“I think we’re on top of the world.”

Yuuri’s arms are tight around his knees as he watches Victor stand on the edge of the rooftop, looking out over the city. There’s a red backpack slung over one of his shoulders and he has never looked more alive—reflected gold dancing across his blue irises and entwining with the familiar mirth that is ever-present. He reaches one hand forward, out over the edge, and turns it back and forth, letting the cold slip against it and nip at it.

When he turns back to look at Yuuri, the curious smile that had already been playing on his lips breaks out into something bigger, and he steps closer, getting down onto his knees so that he has sunk to his level. A hand slips into Yuuri’s hair, cradling the back of his head, and Yuuri wonders how he’d become friends with not just the most popular boy in school but a demigod, a being so beautiful and enrapturing that there truly is no other explanation.

“Don’t you think?” Victor breathes, and everything from his flushed cheeks to the stray thread on his shirt is begging, pleading with Yuuri to believe him. And it’s working, Yuuri’s heart lightening and a rush working its way through his very veins. “Don’t you think that we’re on top of the world?”

Yuuri nods shyly.

Victor sits down beside him and takes his hand, fingers slipping out of his hair. His backpack swings, lightly bouncing against Yuuri’s side. “Come on. Can’t you feel it? Like it’s electric. Like we’re electric. You have to know what I’m talking about.”

With his free hand, Yuuri reaches up to touch Victor’s cheek, and sure enough, it’s electric, he’s electric, they’re electric, charged from nerve to nerve, lit from their skin to their blazing hearts. He can feel it all over, now, if he tries—knows what he’s talking about, loves that this is shared between them. Victor watches him intently, and his bright, enthusiastic smile melts into something softer, something all-consuming.

“Kiss me,” Yuuri asks, and so Victor does.