wow green and yellow was hard

Bring It On: Acotar AU


There were two things Feyre Archeron was absolutely sure of.

First, the lights were going to blind her squad and probably cause Ianthe to fault the toss.

And second, she was going to throw up all over her brand new shoes and stain their perfectly white canvas a murky shade of vomit yellow.


Feyre whipped around, her golden brown ponytail stinging her cheeks from the quick movement. Her mouth quirked into an intimidated smile when she realized who it was.

“Amarantha,” Feyre exhaled nervously, wringing her hands together in a web of uncertainty. What was she doing here, just moments before the squad went on stage?

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Dan Howell’s Ten Step Plan

Summary: Dan Howell may have been only fifteen, but he knew where his life was going. He was going to be a runway model, (his pastel goth fashion and thousands of tumblr followers assured him of that.) And just because he has a crush on Phil, a year eleven who also happens to be super dream and in drama, that doesn’t change Dan’s plan. It just inspires him to come up with a new one. A ten-step plan, to be exact.
Word Count: 10021
Warnings: some swearing, making out, mentions of sex, anxiety, angst at the end, slight homophobia (typical teenage boy stuff)
A/N: I’m so excited to be sharing my PBB3 fic with all of you! Special thanks to my artist, Sasha, (x) and my beta cloackativelys for being so lovely. Also, thanks to Josie for being a team player and actually reading the first draft of the fic before anyone else. Please enjoy!

Dan could already see it. One day, he was going to be a model. He had dreams about it; walking down the runway in the latest fashion, everyone taking his picture, people going ‘oo’ and ‘ah as he walked with confidence. He would buy a mansion with the millions of dollars he had and he would fly to exotic places in his own private helicopter. His partner, (and not just a wife, if a hot, rich guy wanted Dan he would say yes in two seconds) would be equally as famous and would support Dan in everything he did. He would maybe fly back to Wokingham to rub in the face of all of the people who called him a gaylord —when he was so obviously bisexual— that he was rich and famous and they weren’t. Unfortunately, today was not that day.

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anonymous asked:

Would you mind describe the physical characteristics of batman's villains? Like Joker, Ra's al ghul, Poison Ivy, and Harley?

Joker is tall and lanky, almost skeletal beneath his suit. His arms and legs are stick thin but surprisingly strong. His hands are all knuckles and always ice cold to the touch. His skin is natural pale even without the makeup, but wow does that make out stand out against his skin. The reddest red you can imagine staining his lips a bloody smear, yellowing, crooked teeth grinning maliciously. Manic, wild green hair tentatively slicked back but there are always bits sticking up. He face is ordinary in a way, it’s hard for people to recognize him without makeup, people can’t identify him or even describe what he looks like. He is nothing but a malicious grinning face, you ain’t see anything beyond that.

Ra’s is the definition of regal, elegance and danger radiate from him. HE has rich, deep brown skin with sophisticated wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. You can feel his age on him, you can feel it in the wisdom of his stare as he judges things he has seen repeated over lifetimes. Piercing dark dark green brown eyes are always watching and calculating. His hair is slat and pepper grey, always perfectly in place even in battle. His hands are knotted but strong, covered in scars. Not old ones, but fresh ones, he appears feeble at first but once you see him move you can understand how this man has survived hundreds of years. It’s usually the last realization you have.

Ivy is stick thin, bones sticking prominently out of her paper thin olive green skin like knotted branches. Green wisping veins covering all over her body. Her hair is a deep rich red, covered in leaves and twigs and in utter disarray, falling filthily and languidly to her bony hips. Her pheromones make her attractive in whatever ways her victims want to see her. They trick the primal centers of men’s brains to see a voluptuous human woman. But she isn’t human. She is a walking nightmare crafted in the general shape of a woman, her mouth is an open wound of lies and her eyes green gems glittering out from her sickly green skin. The only one who appreciates her somewhat ghastly appearance is Harley who sees her as she truly is and loves her anyway.

Harleen is a very plain looking woman. Pale, homely looking woman with medium build, thick thighs and soft curves. Harley on the other hand is full of life and color, covering up her chubby cheeks with paint and low cut outfit that hug her curves and bring her curves to life. She looks silly and ridiculous with her pigtails in her adult, padded body. It makes her look lost and sad, but Harley has grown as a person and she has learned to own her style as her own regardless of what people think. She has pale sky blue eyes that light up with all her passions. Every emotion is always readable like a books across her face. Ivy smiles and moves a strand of corn blonde hair out of Harley’s face. Harleen may be plain and bit chubby, but she’s the most beautiful, emotive flower she’s ever seen.

Have I ever mentioned how much i love the stalia markers thing? Because I really do. Like, it’s not far-fetched; red, green and yellow are pretty coded in their meaning as hard, easy and somewhere in between. But i love how Malia and Stiles have that in common. The way he looks at her is like ‘wow, she gets me. i love her so much’.  And she doesn’t even know she did it. i love how those two can make each other feel nice without even trying.  It’s really just a little thing, but it means so much.

anonymous asked:

Can I request a Jasico Drabble based on the black and white au? [the one where everything is colourless until you meet your soulmate and then when your soulmate dies everything goes back to being colourless.]

Nico saw many people in color. He wasn’t sure if there was something wrong with him, or if everyone saw things the way he did, and were too afraid to admit it. Everyone wanted to have a soul mate — a One. But if they saw more than one person in color, did that mean they had more than one soul mate? Certainly not, you couldn’t love more than one person at a time!

And yet.

Bianca was always in color for him. Whenever she was around she lit up the room with rustic oranges and reds. When she laughed it was an almost blinding shade of yellow. It never failed to make Nico smile. Their mama Maria would sing blues into the sky and wrap him in warm blankets of purple as she kissed his forehead goodnight.

Percy, too, had been in color. Greens and blues lit any room he was in like he was a walking aquarium. Nico had gotten really excited about it — but, in the end, he was only black and white for Percy. Those colors, eventually, faded. When he was a bit older, his friend Mitchell was in color, sometimes. Pinks and greens and all sorts of saturated colors but only when they were particularly enjoying themselves. When they were relaxing, cool pastels would fill the room.

Everyone said that Nico would know when he found The One. But was it really that cut and dry? It seemed like everyone who was important to him was a soul mate, according to the Colors. 

Maybe he didn’t have a soul mate. 

There had to be people like that, right? Nico thought, finishing up his daily dose of caffeine for the day. He set his empty cup aside and stared blankly at his math textbook. Some people just didn’t have soul mates. Maybe people like that didn’t experience Color the same way everyone else did. Would that be okay?

….Yeah, he thought. It’d be okay.

Nico was just about to bring his pencil down in his notebook when a new Styrofoam cup was placed in front of his textbook. It was white and green and brown and wow that blonde boy attached to it was in Color. Yellows and blues and pink skin, and even the chairs and doors were turning colors Nico had never seen before. Nico tried not to stare, but it was pretty hard.

“Hello,” the boy said with a shy smile, sliding into the booth across Nico. “My name’s Jason Grace. You are…” his smile faltered as he swallowed. “You are amazingly in color for me. So I was thinking we could talk maybe?”

Nico nodded, his throat dry.

"So, uh,” Jason said awkwardly. “What’s your name?”

“Oh! Nico,” he said, hastily offering his hand. “Nico di Angelo.”