the office poster

Someone give me seventeen-year-old Yakov Feltsman at the 1964 Olympics wearing bell-bottoms and a peasant shirt with a scarf around his head, hair cut into a moptop and skating to The Twist. He landed the first triple flip in competition and, in an interview, announced that his inspiration was the most beautiful girl he’d ever met, his girlfriend of three weeks Lilia Baranovskaya.

Yakov’s coach is banging his head against a wall somewhere just off camera.

Forty years later and Viktor Nikiforov, he of the fae-like looks and waist-length silver hair, wants to wear a bondage costume on the ice and Yakov can’t even tell him not to because when he tries Viktor starts screaming “COME ON BABY LET’S DO THE TWIST” and Yakov is immediately paralyzed with shame.

“I mean, really, you have no room to talk,” Lilia tells him, examining her nails as Viktor announces that he’s engaged to a skater he’s barely known for eight months. Who he’s still actively coaching.

Yuri shows up in his exhibition skate outfit and doesn’t even wait for Yakov to open his mouth before he’s holding up a picture–an actual printed picture where did he find it–in full color of Yakov on the podium at the 1964 Olympics.

“Bell bottoms, old man?” he says, flipping his hair as he skates onto the ice.

(Lilia frames the picture. It hangs in her office underneath a laminated poster reading “Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it”)


Television Posters Made By Rabid, Talented Fans

The best thing about a piece of television isn’t the story, or the characters, or the costumes– it’s what the fans do with the work. Spinoffs, fan fiction, all of these obsessions make these shows more than just mindless images to watch– they’re important in people’s lives and they stimulate creativity.

If you liked these, you’ll love these >fan-made banners for Game of Thrones.

Source: /r/TelevisionPosterPorn

bosstoaster  asked:

Who buys the other cheesy gifts Who initiated the first kiss Who kisses the other awake in the morning - Shatt >D

Who buys the other cheesy gifts 

Matt. Shiro is very practical and very minimalist about what he buys. Not out of any ideology or financial necessity, it’s just a personality trait. (He already has a coffee mug. Why would he need another one?) Or personality flaw, according to Matt. It’s yet another way Shiro has failed to learn to have fun.

While both maintained neat, orderly work areas throughout their Garrison careers, Matt’s always had an added bit of “flair”–magnets, action figures, posters, themed office supplies–which left no question as to his interests outside of space exploration. Shiro’s, on the other hand, looked like a generic stock photo from the office supply catalog. But one practical, minimalist, oddly sentimental, and generally very cheesy addition at a time, Matt brought just the tiniest bit of Shiro’s personality into his workplace. And anytime Shiro even started to protest the gift–it cost too much, he already had one, really you shouldn’t have–all Matt had to do was say, “It made me think of you.” Shiro would blush a little, do that smile that’s about one quarter mouth and three quarters eyes, mutter a quiet “thank you,” and then treasure whatever pop culture knick-knack Matt has decided to bestow upon him as if it were a family heirloom.

By the time Matt and Shiro catch up with one another once more in their crazy, crazy universe, Matt is not surprised to learn Shiro has fallen into his old ways once more. All the other paladins have started collections: little trinkets and bobbles, books and maps, plants and rocks from the various worlds they’ve explored. Hunk called them souvenirs, Lance calls his trophies, Pidge’s are samples, and Keith refused to give a name to his shoe box sized assortment of sentimentalities. But Shiro? Shiro has nothing.

Until Matt slips a smooth, nearly transparent, gray pebble into his hands one night after Voltron has completed yet another successful mission.

“What’s this?” Shiro asks.

“A rock,” Matt says. “It made me think of you.”

And Shiro blushes. He smiles. He mutters “thank you.” And he treasures it.

Who initiated the first kiss 

Shiro. Moving ever so slowly, checking every achingly measured step along the way to make sure Matt still seemed okay with the idea. And Matt was totally okay with the idea. More than okay with the idea–thrilled with the idea! It’s just that Shiro was taking forever. Shiro preached patience, and Matt was normally the most attentive member of Shiro’s congregation, but this was ridiculous. Mere inches from finally–finally–making contact, Shiro noticed the sudden shift in Matt’s expression (his eyes half-lidden not by passion but by frustrated disbelief) and pulled back.

“Is something wr–” before Shiro could finish the thought, Matt had pulled him back down and answered the question in a firm negative.

Shiro initiated. Matt completed.

Who kisses the other awake in the morning

Shiro. But not very often. Only when his brain has fully checked out for the moment. Sleeping off some ill side effects from the occasional meds or alcohol? Exhausted to the point he can’t see straight? Those are the mornings he’s not 100% sure where he is or what year it is or if he’s even really conscious–maybe it was all just a dream. But Matt’s there. And Shiro will force his somewhat uncooperative body to fumblingly kiss him awake. (He always aims for the lips, but for some reason always lands on the nose with the first try. But the way Matt scrunches up his face at the contact is so cute it’s almost worth his senses being boggled.) 

Once he rouses, Matt will kiss him back, but there’s no fire in it, it’s almost hesitant. And brief. Always brief. Matt breaks contact and tucks his head under Shiro’s chin. Then they will wait. For reality to catch up to them. For Shiro to apologize. For Matt to assure him he did nothing wrong. And for the memory of that first kiss–and all the others than could have been–to weigh down on them.