there was more but i can't read the writing

anonymous asked:

Head canon: instead of becoming coaches, Yuuri and Victor become commentators but instead of commentating, they just talk about how much they love each other

yES its all like:

Viktor: See how *insert skater name here* landed that quad flip!
Yuuri: Yes, it was really clean!
Viktor: Remember when you changed your quad toe loop to a flip just for me in competition?? *heart smile*
Yuuri: I remember that…
*getting all lovey and fluffy instead of commentating the routine*
Yurio: *snatches mic out of their hands* JUST SHUT UP ALREADY

cigarette smoke, chocolate and home.

fandom: girl meets world
ship: riley matthews x lucas friar
word count: 5,259
summary: “Lucas could feel his heart beating in his chest and he had to take a deep breath to get himself under control. “Shit.” He muttered under his breath. He was so fucked.” // or two broken delinquents fall in love. 
series: part 2 in the delinquents au 
notes: hellllllo friends!!! so not only is this the longest one shot i’ve ever written, but it’s a piece that i’m super super proud of. if anyone read my last one shot (we are the crazy kids) which is a delinquents au centered around rucas and zac/maya (an oc maya ship), then this is the one shot focused on how riley and lucas ended up getting together in that universe. however, you don’t really need to read that one shot to understand this one (however pls do if you wish #selfpromo). this fic is part of an ongoing series of one shots set in this au, so you’ll definitely be seeing more of this story from me, because i love it. i’m super proud of this and definitely would appreciate any feedback y’all want to give me!! 

this is also highkey dedicated to korry for being the best hc partner around. 

The first time he saw her, she was leaning against the cold brick of their high school, her foot pressed against the wall and her fingers holding a cigarette to her pursed lips. He hates those death sticks, but he has never been more jealous of an inanimate object as she brings it between her lips, and he’s mesmerized as she blows the smoke away, her lipstick covered lips smiling as she watches the smoke float, up, up, away into the blue sky above.

It didn’t take her long to feel his eyes on her and once the smoke had cleared, she swiveled her head to look at him, her mouth falling from a smiling. He couldn’t even bring himself to be embarrassed about being caught staring, in fact he dared himself to meet her eyes, a smirk appearing on his face as they looked at each other.

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oh-emdee  asked:

#5 Adam/Ronan!

I’m p sure this was “See, this is exactly what I said was gonna happen” so let’s go (this is ridiculously late. As in back with your old URL late. And also as in it’s 2:06 AM and I wanted to write something so this could be actually awful and I’m sorry if so)


He’s propping up some stems in the front yard of 300 Fox Way when Ronan comes up next to him. Ronan doesn’t say anything, and his shadow’s barely there, but since they started dating Adam’s Ronan-sense has been fine-tuned so much he can say with confidence when Ronan’s the one to knock into his shoulder.

It helps that Ronan’s the only one who does that, but still.

He says, “Hey.”

Ronan doesn’t reply except to somehow deepen his silence. Adam looks up; he’s looking down at him with a sharply neutral face, and somehow it’s scarier than seeing him spitting angry and swinging at Declan.

“You okay?”

Ronan shrugs and on Ronan a shrug looks like it might be an elegant thing, even with his tattoo and shaved head. “Fine.”

“You look like you’ve stepped in shit and don’t know how to feel about it,” Adams says, his tone measured. He rocks back to sit on his heels and starts taking off his gloves.

Ronan says, with no change of expression, “Are you saying this isn’t seductive?” and Adam laughs. A smile looks like it’s debating waging war on Ronan’s features.

“It’s not your best,” Adam says, and Ronan stops him before he takes his gloves off fully.

“What’re you doing?”

“Flowers,” Adam replies, “for Maura.” Ronan kicks lightly at the plastic container the bulbs came in. “Not sure if they’re significant, I just thought they looked pretty.”

Ronan hunkers down next to him and pats the topsoil closer to the transplanted flowers. “Not as pretty as you,” he says. He pulls at his lip and grins when he sees how red Adam goes.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Adam says. The tops of his ears could light a fire, probably. They feel like they’ve got a heat signature separate from the rest of him.

“It’s true though.”

Adam shrugs and he knows that on him a shrug looks like it might be embarrassed and tired all at once. Ronan mirrors him, and then rolls soil into a fragmenting ball and presses it into Adam’s hand.

“What now?”

Adam blinks. “What?”

“With the flowers. You’re the gardener, not me,” Ronan says, and Adam pushes him lightly. He sways a little on his knees and acknowledges the push with a slight bowing of his head.

“You’re sure you’re okay?”

Ronan looks up now and earnesty screams from every feature. “I’m sure. Tired. Nothing’s wrong, Adam, I promise.”

Neither of them are ones for long declarations. Adam nods. Ronan tosses a bit of soil at him, and he blinks when it scatters against his cheek.

“What’s next?” Ronan asks again. His voice is the kind of gruff that makes it obvious that he’s doing it on purpose.

Adam says, “Water,” and goes and turns the hose on and drags it toward their little group of flowers. It’s a sad bunch; they’re weak in the stems even with his improvised supports. But he thinks Maura’ll like them anyway.

“Just be careful not to drown them,” Ronan says, and Adam gives him a look.

“You’re the gardener, not me,” Adam says. Ronan rolls his eyes, then knocks on Adam’s knee affectionately.

It’s going steadily and then at once it’s too much water by accident, and one of the bulbs is floating away down toward the gutter. Another looks like it’s wanting to join it, but Adam bends the hose in half to stop the flow before running to turn the water off.

He comes back to the soggy mess and Ronan says, “See, that’s exactly what I said was gonna happen,” and Adam tickles him until he’s streaked with soil.

“You didn’t,” Adam says, gasping a little; Ronan’s breath is on his ear. “Not technically. You said not to drown them.”

“You sure? Because you didn’t listen to that, so.” Adam pokes him and he smiles.

Ronan observes, “This is a mess,” and Adam shrugs and this time his shrug is equal parts hopeless and unconcerned. The flowers haven’t been crushed by some miracle.

“It is what it is,” he says.

“I like it anyway,” Maura calls from the door, and now Ronan laughs. It’s a high and pitchy and round thing, this laugh of his, and Adam’s remarkably proud to have helped prompt it.

“I like it too,” Ronan says, and he’s looking at Adam. And when he slides his finger to hook into Adam’s collar, the wet soil makes him shiver long before Ronan kisses him.


I don’t know if I will have the time to write any more letters because I might be too busy trying to participate. So if this does end up being the last letter, I just want you to know that I was in a bad place before I started high school, and you helped me. Even if you didn’t know what I was talking about or know someone who’s gone through it, you made me not feel alone. Because I know there are people who say all these things don’t happen. And there are people who forget what it’s like to be 16 when they turn 17. I know these will all be stories someday. And our pictures will become old photographs. We’ll all become somebody’s mom or dad. But right now these moments are not stories. This is happening. I am here and I am looking at her. And she is so beautiful. I can see it. This one moment when you know you’re not a sad story. You are alive, and you stand up and see the lights on the buildings and everything that makes you wonder. And you’re listening to that song and that drive with the people you love most in this world.
                           And in this moment I swear, we are infinite.

Summary: Matt likes to think Neil is done saying things that will get himself killed. Andrew disagrees.

Relationships: Matt & Neil, established Andrew/Neil

Warning: This is very pointless and the proof that I can write fluff and crack of anything. 

Word Count: 1474

Read on AO3

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The moment of sudden clarity when feelings are finally recognized, or are made aware for the first time.

It hit you one random afternoon in the studio, a soft beat filling the silence in the small, dimly lit room as you curled up even more snugly into Yoongi’s blanket on the black leather sofa. His back faced towards you, bits of his blueish black hair sticking out from beneath his black beanie, his head bobbing slightly to the beat as he clicked away on his mouse. From the side, you could see the black mask tucked under his chin with one strap behind each ear, his fair skin strikingly pale due to the contrast with his dark clothing and onyx eyes. He chewed on his bottom lip in concentration, mumbling softly to himself as his other hand fiddled around with the different controls on his sound board. He was in the zone, as per usual, and over the course of the past few months, you’d come to learn very quickly that he did not appreciate being bothered while he was in this state. Just like the very first time you’d met in your composition class.

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OTP Idea #50

Your OTP sleeping next to each other, but the only way Person B will fall asleep is once they know that Person A is safe and sleeping peacefully. Bonus points if the the rising and falling of Person A’s chest while asleep calms Person B because they can tell that Person A is at peace.

Post-Mortem, by @ecthelions
general audiences ▪ modern setting, ghosts ▪ read on ao3

Ghosts don't haunt houses, they haunt people. Thranduil is burdened by a past he fears he will never let go, but Bard is determined to help him overcome his grief. And perhaps make friends with the ghosts while he's at it.
‘Fencing Man’ Kookmin fic - Prologue

OK UM SO…. I tried writing my kookmin Fencing Man fic (based off this fanart I made)… calling this a prologue because nothing really happens AND IT TOOK SO LONG TO WRITE EVEN THO IT’S NOT MUCH!? sob this is like my first time writing a fic in maybe…. 10 years? More than that, probably. So, I apologize for how bad it issss xD I’ll be casually working on it, and hopefully editing along the way.


Jungkook pursed his lips, in an attempt to hide a growing smile as he watched Jimin bouncing in his seat on the couch. Jungkook’s heart had been so thoroughly melted at the sight, one would think Jungkook was the cause behind it. But none of Jimin’s attention was directed towards the youngest at all, but rather on the figure on the TV in front of them.

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artemisrisen  asked:

bodyswap! 👯‍♂️👫👬👭

[put a fanfic trope in my inbox and i’ll describe the fic i’d write!]

i am in fact heavily into a bodyswap au for damen and laurent that i unfortunately am never going to write but i’ll describe it in detail for you now! for 2,500 words, in fact!

note that it’s inspired in part by kimi no na wa (your name) so if you don’t want spoilers for that movie then don’t read this,

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Quiet Moon Part Three

WC: 6.4K 

A/N: I haven’t edited this and to be honest the last two thousand words just happened less than twenty minutes ago. There isn’t any smut but I hope you all enjoy this :) I think there will be one more part after this :) 

3 Months later

You’d taken to sleeping with a pillow wedged between your knees and in your arms. It basically took Calum’s place and he absolutely hated the damn thing. He would sometimes pry it away from you in the middle of the night and slide himself in its place. A smile would pull at the corners of his lips as you mumbled into his chest, clinging to him with the curve of your stomach pressed into his. He would find himself slipping his palm under your sleep shirt while you slept, caressing your skin that had started to stretch out with each week your little baby grew. It was starting to be visible, your bump pushing out against your tighter shirts, and it made Calum so happy that he could be close with you. He  felt like talking to the baby, spending some time with his little one, was the most important part of pregnancy for him. 

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Captain Aaron Burr for @hubris-but-no-writing‘s pirate au that is in the works. If you haven’t noticed, i’m dying to read it. 


She said I look so Virginia
I always knew I was a lover
What’s that saying about the pink sky at night?

I’m Saturn’s favorite place
I’m Orion’s only lover
And there’s a Space Station orbiting around my head

These headstones are everywhere
And suddenly we’re holding hands
A Neon sign romantic with my hand out the window

I saw the most beautiful thing once
But If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me
Oh how I love the unknown
Just south of home

My back fence medley
All these wishes I’ve made
Clever backyard riddles
I remember, Sailor’s Delight

it just occurred to me that inquisitor lavellan does not have one single person surrounding them during the entirety of inquisition that understands and/or respects their culture. not only that but they have solas and sera- the only two elven companions- constantly shitting on their culture. sera has legitimate reasons to resent the dalish but her assertions read less as criticisms of the way that the dalish treat city elves and more as complaining that the dalish are misguided and that taking pride in the small bit if culture they have managed to salvage is somehow a bad thing (which i chock up more to bad writing bc let’s face it the writers treat sera terribly). however, solas, oh so superior and smug solas, is constantly presenting the dalish as misguided children who are too stupid to understand the history of their own culture while refusing to admit his worldview is not the ultimate one and that the dalish have worked hard to salvage bits of their culture as so much if it has been lost and cling to and are proud of those bits of culture because they were hard fought for and won. the bottom line is lavellan is expected to lead and represent a group of people that constantly berate and erase culture. lavellan arguably has the hardest time out of any of the inquisitors, especially a female lavellan who romances solas, because they are surrounded by bits of their culture and are not allowed to stop and breathe because the culture they grew up with is being discredited and influenced and changed before their very eyes and they are expected to ignore something so important to them in favor of saving a whole slew of people who don’t give a shit about her people and her culture

and back to the point about a lavellan romancing solas, she is literally told by him that the symbol she wore on her face in pride that is a big deal to her and her people used to be a slave marking. and fucking solas doesn’t acknowledge what that marking means to her that it has been reclaimed that it is a something she and her entire community wears with pride and he expects her to make a decision to remove something so representative of her culture forcing her to choose between her culture and disappointing the man she loves???? not to mention solas constantly reinforces to her his idea that she is “the good dalish” the open minded one while continuing to shit in her culture and her people

tl; dr lavellan has one of the shittiest times in inquisition and solas is an asshole

One other thing I loved about this week’s episode: I love that it’s canon that Kara is a really excellent writer. Yes, Snapper had to teach her about bias, but I felt so proud when he was reading the lines she wrote about Lena’s terrible, xenophobic device. She’s brilliant and talented and growing, and it’s exciting to see her learning and developing her passions. I’m sure when Cat reads her work, she will be very, very proud as well.

Originally posted by karazorelgifs

I know the action in the street is exciting

But Jesus, between all the bleeding and fighting

I’ve been reading and writing

More Angel Coulby Sigyn. I have more than twenty related WIPs, not counting all the repeated drawings of her face, but because I have no idea what I’m doing, still less talent, and infinite quantities of crippling anxiety, have found it very difficult to finish anything.

“Hamilton” quotes always seem relevant to my version of Sigyn; what she lacks in magic or martial ability, she more than makes up by outsmarting the likes of Tony Stark, Doctor Strange (MD?), and, of course, her husband. That, and she won’t. Stop. Arguing.

Shavua Tov! !שָׁבוּעַ טוֹב

can we stop trashing enjolras in e/r
i’m all for monstrous enjolras characterization, but more along the lines of ‘this bar is now only serving molotov cocktails’ instead of being written as verbally abusive

i know the ‘incapable of thought belief life death etc etc’ section is maddening my first thought was ‘mon ange you shot a man like three chapters ago but that will not deter me from punching you in the face’ but people use that scene to justify cruel, horrible enjolras when the context is grantaire harrassing and bullying a waitress on a battlefield completely wasted while the rest of them prepare for war. it’s not as pointlessly harsh as people make it out to be, it’s the last fucking straw.  the revolution is what enjolras has been working towards his whole life, why do people take this line and act like it’s a regular occurrence?  

he’s disdainful, and (ironically h a ha) skeptical of grantaire, and hugo lets us know he’s rebuffed him many times but I don’t see a basis for interpreting him as the kind of guy who delivers an Ego Eviscerating speech for anything less than ‘I’m literally preparing to fight and die while you’re being a useless dick’ hugo says he felt ‘lofty pity’ not ‘you’re the worst and i fucking hate you’

i think it’s pretty obvious from hugo’s earlier drafts that enjolras didn’t expect OFPD (his ’thank you’ holds so much surprise & gratitude) i don’t think enjolras knew and understood the extent of grantaire’s loyalty (i don’t think grantaire did either: ‘without being clearly aware of it, and without any notion of explaining it to himself, he was spellbound––’)

yes, several passages talk about how “sweet” and “tender” he was but that tenderness is also accompanied by sass, bullshit, and melodrama, would you expect sincerity from someone who follows you around saying shit like ‘what marmoreal magnificence?’ unreal

i would think they’re fucking with me, not ‘maybe we’ll die holding hands’ and grantaire offering to help with your revolution when he goes around whistling monarchy tunes to piss you off is like a troll blog offering to help you with your latest politically progressive news article, you’re gonna sideeye the fuck out of it.  why people think enjolras knows how grantaire feels about him when he ‘barely perceived roses, he was oblivious of spring, he did not hear birds sing, etc etc’ and would go out of his way to be cruel even knowing that is beyond me 

That old cliché

An image: Harry pressed as far back into the cold stone of Hogwarts’ wall as he can get, Malfoy stepping ominously closer until he’s right in front of him, invading his personal space, face intense, eyes even more so.

He’s so close, Harry thinks he can feel the heat of the other boy (no, not a boy anymore) in the scant distance between them, blanketing his exposed skin and making his cheeks and forehead feel like they’re inches away from live fire, not another human being.

He would be glancing wildly around if Draco’s eyes didn’t have a magnetizing effect. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t look away. Malfoy looks so severe, and the flickering torchlight only emphasizes his angularity.

Malfoy takes another step impossibly closer. His hips barely brush Harry’s, and he leans in, presses their foreheads together. All the while, he never breaks eye contact. Harry’s eyes begin to burn, but he can’t bring himself to blink.

They’ve been building up to this all year, Harry thinks. For longer, probably, than he wants to think about. He’s been waiting–anticipating, dreading–this very moment for a long time, and now it’s come, he doesn’t know what to do. His palms feel sweaty, he’s alarmingly aware of his heart beating a tattoo against his ribcage. He swallows nervously.

Malfoy catches the motion, and the shadow of emotion morphs his face for a brief second before it’s gone. Fast enough to leave Harry reeling.

“Scared, Potter?” he asks, and his voice is pitched so low, Harry barely catches it. His body jerks minutely under Draco’s smothering presence, and he–finally, finally–has the permission to blink. Involuntarily, his gaze drops to Malfoy’s lips.

“Yes,” he gasps.