yo i'm sorry


me @ those haters who’re trying to smear super junior members

I want to be as strong as Zoe Murphy.
I want to have the drive of Alana Beck.
I want to care as much as Heidi Hansen.

These women are important and need more recognition. Yes, Evan, Connor, and Jared are cool or whatever, but let’s stop forgetting about the amazing women in this show(both the characters and actors pls)


everyone’s talking about armin in ep. 35, but does anyone else see candy in a naked apron in the nathaniel illustration?? Cuz I do and I can’t unsee it….

Why is everybody leaving Seth? :(

There’s rumors floating around that Roman and The New Day might be heading over to team blue…


anonymous asked:

i found a text post around tumblr where this guy's roommate came home really drunk and designed an airplane (with all the drawings and calculations and shit) while intoxicated and didn't remember it the next day could u imagine that with cf victor and yuuri tho lmfao

“Okay, okay, look,” Yuuri slurs, lying on Victor’s chest with a notepad held above his head and a pen resting between his fingers. “Look,” he repeats, as though Victor isn’t looking. “See?

“See what?” Victor asks, brushing Yuuri’s hair back out of his eyes. It’s not particularly comfortable, lying like this, but he’s not about to complain. Yuuri is adorable when he’s drunk.

He had been playing some game with Phichit for a few hours, and then he’d come back to their dorm room like this. Immediately, he’d collapsed on top of Victor and started babbling incessantly about a genius breakthrough he’d had. Now, he’s designing an airplane, and is very adamant that Victor pay attention to whatever it is he’s doing. “Look! Look!” he’s insisting.

“I’m looking,” Victor promises.

“See the, um, what’s that part called? The wing! See how the wing is shaped? Like that? That helps,” he informs him, but his serious tone is betrayed by his occasional hiccup. “Listen,” he repeats.

Victor can’t help but laugh, now. “I am listening, Yuuri. I’m listening and looking. I promise.”

“Now if we just… The air resistance…” He starts scribbling formulas.

In an attempt to get him to forget about his airplane, Victor runs his foot up the bottom of Yuuri’s sweatpants, drifts it across his ankle. Yuuri doesn’t even seem to notice. “So you’re designing an airplane?” he asks, because if you can’t beat them, join them.

Yuuri shifts on top of him–it’s incredibly distracting. “Mmm,” he agrees. A second later, he thrusts his drawing in front of him, admiring it. “Done.”


As if an afterthought, he adds a few more numbers with little arrows pointing to pieces of the plane. Then, he puts the paper down on the bed and turns onto his side, his entire weight still resting on Victor. Victor wraps his arms around him, keeps their legs tangled together. “Goodnight, Yuuri.”

“You’re so nice, Vitya,” he mumbles against Victor’s chest. “So nice. Love you.”

“Love you too.”


“Who wrote this?” Yuuri asks the following morning, holding up his airplane design. Then, he pauses, and slowly but surely brings the paper closer to his eyes. “This design is actually intuitive.”

“You made it last night,” Victor reminds him. “You don’t remember?”

“I made this?”

“You’re even smarter than me when you’re drunk,” he teases, gripping Yuuri’s hips with his hands and looking at the paper over his shoulder. “Except, there is a drool stain on my shirt.”

Yuuri turns in his arms and then cringes when he sees the prominent stain on Victor’s chest. Then, though, he seems to identify his mischievous smile and nudges his shoulder instead of being embarrassed. “Well, you’re a good pillow.”

“I like being your pillow. Can I major in that? Yuuri Katsuki’s pillow. Whenever you want to design airplanes while drunk again, just let me know. Or if you want to do something else while lying on top of me…” He pauses, lets the meaning behind his words settle in. “Let me know.”

“I’m up for doing something else while lying on top of you.”

Victor perks up. “You are?”

“Like playing games on my phone, reading a book, talking to Makkachin…”


“I’m kidding.” He takes his hand and squeezes it, then leads him to the bed. “Really though, that design wasn’t bad. Remind me to show it to Phichit later.”

So, totally got inspired by this video I stumbled upon, and needed to write a freewood fic immediately. 

Gavin couldn’t say he necessarily enjoyed working at a Costco. Sure, it wasn’t the worst job he could have, but it didn’t really have him jumping for joy every time he woke up at an ungodly hour to get ready to take inventory.

That being said, he loved quite a few things about his job–the people were a plus, the pay wasn’t bad, and the employee discounts meant he could actually shop at the damn store he worked for, which was far better than he could say for the other shops he had previously been employed at.

“Oi, B! You’re gonna fucking love this new shipment we got,” Dan said the moment Gavin entered the backroom.

He waited until Gavin had locked his belongings away in his locker and donned the required red vest before dragging him out onto the sales floor.

“Christ B, what’s got you all fired up? Gonna rip my bloody arm off if you pull any harder.”

“Ah, you’ll thank me in a sec.”

Gavin doubted it highly, but he was proven wrong the moment Dan dragged him to one of the large center aisles. Gavin’s eyes widened as he spied three beautiful pianos displayed, still untouched by any curious customers or sticky-fingered children.

“And guess who managed to convince Mark to let a certain big-nosed twat sell them today?” Dan said smugly. Gavin’s head snapped up to meet Dan’s eyes. He grinned widely.

“B! I bloody love you, B!”

“Yeah, I know you do. Go on, get acquainted. Store opens in 5, B.”

“Cheers B!”

Gavin didn’t hesitate to bolt over to the lovely things. He ran his hand gently over the top before sitting at the bench. His fingers dances over the keys in a few simple chords before he let out a small laugh. It’d been too long.

The store opened and he began his usual routine, but he never strayed far from the pianos. A few kids stopped by to bang on the keys and Gavin had to bite his tongue not to snap at them before they were dragged away by their harried parents. At long last, there was a lull in the initial opening swarm and he sat back down at the bench. He didn’t have a song in mind, just the itch to touch those gleaming keys. For a few minutes he let his fingers create a tune while he smiled at the passers-by.  

Jack, one of the floor managers, walked by then, his usual clipboard and smile combo present. Gavin almost stopped playing but Jack waved him down.

“You’re drawing attention to the sale, so keep it going,” he said with a laugh. “I didn’t know you played, Gav.”

Gavin shrugged, “used to.”

“Well, if you’re taking suggestions, could you play some Adele? She’s gonna be big some day.”

Gavin grinned at the familiar joke and saluted, flawlessly transitioning to “Someone Like You.” He let it guide him, becoming completely involved with the music, and only stopping abruptly when he noticed another person sat at the piano on his left.

“Oh! Sorry! Did you need any assistance?” Gavin stuttered immediately, hoping no one saw him ignoring a paying customer for who knows how long. Especially a bloody attractive paying customer. Tall, sandy blond hair, bright blue eyes, and that smile. Gavin didn’t know whether he wanted to melt into a puddle or disappear into the ether out of sheer embarrassment.

“No, no, sorry to interrupt,” the stranger said, and his deep voice made Gavin’s stomach clench excitedly. “I was actually hoping to join you.”

“Um, wot?”

The customer looked at him sheepishly. “It isn’t every day you get an opportunity to do some impromptu piano duets out in the wild.”


When the man’s smile started to slip, Gavin unfroze and immediately scrambled for words, none of them intelligible.

“Do what the nice man says B,” Dan said, coming out of the shadows like goddamn Batman and slapping Gavin hard on the back.

Gavin glared at him before shooting the man–now staring at the two with amusement–a self-conscious grin. “Did you have a preference or–”

“That Adele song is fine with me.”


Gavin cleared his throat and nodded, starting the first few notes mechanically and waiting for the stranger to jump in. He nearly startled when the man did, but kept it together just by pure instinct. Bloody hell, the man was good. Kept up perfectly with Gavin and added his own flourishes to match Gavin’s embellishments. They both got lost in the music, completely unaware of the crowd they drew and the multiple videos that were being filmed. They finished, both sustaining their last chords, and they looked at each other, smiles wide across both their faces.

They startled at the sudden clapping, and they whipped around to look at the crowd. The man rubbed the back of his neck and Gavin flushed down to his roots, giving Dan a half-hearted glare when he whistled loudly from the front. He turned back to the man.

“You’re incredible!” He gushed.

“Naw, I’m completely out of practice, but you!”

“No, I haven’t played in bloody ages–”

“Well, I couldn’t tell. You could go pro.”

“You’re too kind, uh–”

“Jesus, that was rude of me. Ryan. Ryan Haywood,” he extended his hand to Gavin, and Gavin took it immediately.

“Well, Ryan Haywood, I think you play beautifully.”

Ryan smiled down at the floor and Gavin nearly burst from how endearing he found it.

“Uh, I wouldn’t mind doing it again. Maybe, uh, after some coffee or something?”

Gavin’s eyes widened in shock before a brilliant smile spread across his face.

“I would love that.”

“Great!” Ryan fumbled for his phone and nearly dropped it twice in his haste. He handed it to Gavin. “I’ll text you my number.”

Gavin nodded and typed in his name–Gavin Free (The Piano Guy)–and handed it back. Ryan chuckled as he read it and texted him immediately.

“I’ll text you after my shift?”

“Doun–sounds great. Talk to you soon.”

Ryan walked away then, and Gavin watched him go, dopey smile permanently etched on his face. That is, until Dan sidled up next to him with the smuggest look Gavin has ever seen.

“Well! Daniel Gruchy, master matchmaker. You’re welcome, B!”

“Oh, piss off.”

“I can’t wait to tell this at your wedding.”