#and id even go back to one of the artists probably without crying in shame on the bus the whole ride therebdjsksmmsms

[twothumbsandnostakeincanon]

Okay. ALRIGHT. I saw THIS picture:

and immediately reblogged it with THESE tags:

which @graciebirdie then reblogged with THESE tags:

to which I responded with THIS message:

YES. YES YES. The BEST part of this idea is that while Allison looks like a Bad Girl™ and is an actual facts badass when it comes to brass tacks, she's also definitely still that girl who's gonna cry when she accidentally hits a dog. She absolutely listens to "Backstreet's Back" on a loop. So when she and Lydia hook up, first Lydia's like "oooh, she's so mysterious, she’s probably killed a guy, that shouldn’t turn me on but it totally does” but then she sees Allison trapping spiders and letting them go outside the house because -they’re important to the ecosystem, Lydia- and Lydias like “oh my god I have to protect her.”

And APPARENTLY I’m not done with this yet, come with me on a journey:

Allison leaned against the building, stubbing the last of her cigarette out on the brick and flicking it in the trash. “I need a vape pen,” she mumbled to herself. Secondhand smoke was nasty shit.

So was firsthand smoke, but whatever. She’d quit… someday.

She adjusted her shirt, ensuring her favorite tattoo was showing so as to make an accurate first impression, and walked into class.

She handed over her transfer card to the lit teacher and idly glanced around the class.

Bored looking students zoned out around the classroom, staring out the window if they had a view- except for one. A goofy looking shaggy haired kid was staring at her with his mouth slightly ajar. Great. There was already a dude who wanted to take a walk on the “wild side.”

She held in a sigh when she realized the only free desk was directly behind him.

Just as she slid into her seat, the boy turned around and wordlessly offered a pen.

She looked from him to the pen, surprised, but didn’t take it.

After a moment he got a confused look on his face.

“Didn’t you say you need a pen?” he asked.

She stared at him, astounded that someone would so blatantly admit to having heard something that should have been impossible to hear with normal human ears- even if he had actually misunderstood her.

The teacher stood up to get their attention, and the boy finally turned back around, still holding his pen.

She watched closely, trying to peg what exactly the guy was, and it didn’t take long. The way he cocked his head every time a car drove by outside, the way he obviously sniffed when a late student arrived with their closed coffee thermos: he was a werewolf, and an absolute shame to the stealth supernatural community.

When class was over and the students were spilling into the hallway, Allison took off her jacket, revealing what would hopefully be a full tattoo sleeve on her left arm someday. If she could find another artist to pick it up, anyway. She draped the jacket over her bookbag and headed out, considering whether she should just bluntly approach the kid about his wolf-hood or try to sniff out information on why he was so blasé about it first.

Just as she stepped into the hallway, she was accosted by a short red-headed girl who was followed by a beefy “I Strut Because I’m Insecure” type; clearly the boyfriend.

“That jacket is killer!” the girl gushed. “I’m Lydia, this is Jackson,” she jerked her thumb over her shoulder at Buff and Insecure.

“Allison.” She stuck out her right hand to shake, but Lydia reached for her left one and pulled it straight to look at her tattoos. Allison twitched as she suppressed the reflex to put her in a choke hold.

“Oh, these are beautiful! What class do you have next? How did you get these? You can’t be eighteen already, do you have a fake ID?” Lydia threw question after question at her, and Allison had the feeling that it was more calculated than it seemed.

“I knew an artist,” Allison said vaguely. “And I have…” she checked her schedule, “U.S. History next.”

“With who? Ms. Masi?”

“Um,” another quick check. “Yes.”

“That’s my class! I’ll show you where it is. Bye Jackson,” she said flippantly without looking at him, hooking an arm into Allison’s and trotting along.

Allison side eyed her and glanced back at Jackson, who she caught checking out her ass. She rolled her eyes and faced forward. God, that could turn into a ridiculous mess in half a minute if Lydia turned out to be a possessive, blame-the-girl type.

Lydia chattered as they walked along, and Allison tuned in and out, keeping an open eye for any students who were preternaturally attractive/strong/whateverthefuck.

“-and we’re supposed to do a project on a landmark supreme court case, I was thinking Roe v. Wade, does that sound good to you? There’s a lot to explore since nine states have trigger laws in the case of it being overturned, with three of those criminalizing-”

“Wow,” said Allison, surprised. “You know a lot about it.”

Lydia’s stride broke for a single step before picking right back up.

“Oh, yeah, there was an episode of ‘L.A. Boys’ about it,” she said breezily.

Allison was almost a thousand percent sure that wasn’t true. Why on earth would she pretend to be uninterested in Roe vs. Wade right after suggesting it as a research topic? Why would she pretend to be dumber than she really was? Jesus Christ, what was wrong with people at this school?

“Well, you know what they say,” Allison said casually. “Smart is sexy.”

Lydia looked at her with a sharp smile. “Is it now?” she purred, pulling a classroom door open and swaying her hips as she walked in, looking over her shoulder at Allison.

Oh God, Allison thought, mouth dry and heart racing. 

Maybe it wasn’t Beefy Boy she needed to worry about.

(imma throw in a tag for @areiton cause I think you were interested in this too?)

[yoi-secret-valentines2017]

a bicycle built for two

for @victoryuriyuri Happy Valentine’s Day! Thanks for getting me into this adorable ship :)

by Edgedancer (@radiantmists)

***

Leo <3: i think im crying Me: me too Leo <3: that was the most beautiful thing ive ever seen Me: i didnt think victor could get better but that was Me: oh my god Leo <3: and just think, youve touched his underwear Me: oh my god Leo <3: i guess yuuri really changed him Me: just as much as he changed Yuuri Me: four continents is going to be amazing Me: i can’t wait Leo <3: yeah! Leo <3: its a shame that its on valentine’s day though… Leo <3: the lasu here has a bunch of really fun-looking events planned! Leo <3: maybe we can do something, though i don’t know how i’d plan anything in korea.

Guang Hong Ji, in that moment, experiences what feels like a divine revelation. He knows with perfect, stunning clarity that February 14th will be the day he confesses to the love of his life.

Me: I’ll take care of everything.

This is not, in fact, the first time he’s experienced such perfect clarity. It’s the third.

The first had been when he was seven. He had turned on the TV, and there it had been: the costumes, the blades, the music and the ice. It is the first truly vivid memory he has of his childhood: sometimes Guang Hong recalls brief glimpses of existence before, but more often he feels as though his life began in that instant.

He had demanded ice skating lessons the next day. His parents had first been innocently obliging, then glad he had found a passion, then dawningly awed at his dedication. Three months later, when he asked for tickets to the national championships for his eighth birthday, they had sat him down and asked him if he wanted private lessons.

Guang Hong had seized the opportunity, had kept working towards the goal that shone in his mind since then. He had entered the junior international circuit at fourteen, and only the sensational talent of Yuri Plisetsky had overshadowed his own. When Guang Hong had been offered a place at off-season camps in Canada and the United States, he’d said yes without a second thought; the path to the vision that had become the center of his life had seemed clearer than ever.

In America, he’d found many things: that many internationally competitive skaters his age couldn’t yet land a triple axel, the glory of SNS, his own sexuality, friends, the mysterious draw of McDonald’s chicken nuggets, and Leo.

The crush had come first; he’d been enthralled with Leo, making his senior debut at seventeen and already being credited for his own choreography. He’d been the coolest thing on ice skates, completely original and true to his own vision.

But the celebrity crush had given way to friendship soon enough, because Leo was also the nicest thing on two legs, helping Guang Hong navigate a new country and effortlessly integrating him into the complex social circle that was the international skating community.

One day, about six months ago, Guang Hong had come upon Leo chewing on a pencil, one earbud in and staring at a notebook filled with choreography notes.

Leo had seen him and smiled, not too wide but warm as the California sun, and offered Guang Hong the other earbud.

“Can’t you just see the program unfolding?” he’d asked. “It’s like everything was already there, inside me, and this song just pulled it out.” He saw Guang Hong’s expression and seemed to shrink slightly. “Is that weird?”

Guang Hong had barely been able to shake his head, because his whole mind was caught up in Leo’s excitement, Leo’s vision, Leo. And stunningly clear like a miracle, like it had been inside him all the time and just waiting to come out, he’d thought: I’m going to keep you forever.

That’s really the core of it; Guang Hong, once he knows what he wants, plays for keeps. He doesn’t do anything by halves. Case in point: the confession.

It takes less than ten minutes for his plans to start spilling out of his brain onto paper. He already knows Leo’s flight number; luckily, Guang Hong will be arriving first. Equally lucky, the time zones will work out so that both of them will still be wide awake that night.

Guang Hong plans out every detail, plots a thousand tiny ways to make this the best night Leo has ever had. Though he decides to save some of them for the eventual proposal, by the time he has to get to sleep or risk missing practice, he has envisioned essentially the perfect first date.

The next day, he has to start making that vision a reality.

There are hundreds of restaurants in Gangneung that are rated above four and a half stars on Yelp. There is a flower shop in the airport with mediocre reviews and about thirty in the surrounding area that are much better. Guang Hong finds himself squinting at fuzzy pictures of bicycle rental shops and wondering whether they would have the right color by the time he got there.

At that point, Guang Hong realizes he could probably use some help.

He opens his phone and enlists the greatest ally of all skaters in love.

Me: I’m confessing to Leo at 4C on Valentine’s Day. Phichit: !!! Phichit: Congratulations! Me: do you want to help? Phichit: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Phichit: ofc! Me: so here’s the plan Me: [image sent] Me: [image sent] Me: [image sent] Phichit: O.O Phichit: one second

Guang Hong realizes rather suddenly that this plan is kind of– well, Phichit probably thinks he’s a total weirdo now…

phichu has invited you to a new group chat: V-Day!!!

You joined the chat K-Yuuri joined the chat

K-Yuuri: what is this about, phichit?

v-nikiforov joined the chat

You: oh my god v-nikiforov: not quite! but thank you! K-Yuuri: victor are you even serious You: phichit who did you invite phichu: everyone whose handle i know and whos gonna be at 4C K-Yuuri: jj’s not here You: please tell me you didnt invite him phichu: ok ill rephrase phichu: everyone i trust not to be a complete jerk is here K-Yuuri: neither is seung-gil. i thought you liked him phichu: hes just slow shhhh phichu: anyway heres the deal phichu: as we all know guang hong is adorably in love with leo v-nikiforov: we do???? K-Yuuri: … phichu: … K-Yuuri: i love you but you’re an idiot You: i mean to be fair he spent about 30% of his time with us blackout drunk v-nikiforov: hey! so mean :( You: and you two have known us for years v-nikiforov: oh and i love you too yuuri! phichu: that adorable dorkery aside phichu: despite the fact that everyone also knows leo loves him back phichu: they are not yet together K-Yuuri: still???? phichu: ikr? phichu: but phichu: guang hong has decided to fix this phichu: [image sent] phichu: [image sent] phichu: [image sent] K-Yuuri: O.O phichu: thats what i said v-nikiforov: guang hong You: uh… yes?

Guang Hong squeezes his teddy bear and feels a terrible sense of dread. He’d planned all this out thinking that Leo, Leo with his artist’s soul, deserved something wonderful, but Victor Nikiforov, the most dramatic being on planet Earth, thinks it’s too saccharine…

v-nikiforov: this is the second most beautiful thing ive ever seen v-nikiforov: please let me help You: whats the first? phichu: hes gonna say yuuri v-nikiforov: yuuri v-nikiforov: how do you type so fast K-Yuuri: ANYWAY id like to help too if you need it You: thanks guys K-Yuuri: but we really need someone who knows the city to help K-Yuuri: even just knowing the language for reservations and stuff would be nice phichu: you’re right phichu: thankfully i have an ace up my sleeve

s-g-lee joined the chat

s-g-lee: what is this phichu: how is your timing so perfect phichu: anyway scroll up phichu: you train in gangneung right

***

Guang Hong sat in the cafe and watched Leo eat the last piece of the cake they’d shared with a quiet sense of satisfaction.

He had met Leo at the airport gate, flowers in hand. Phichit had taken Leo’s bags and walked off with his coach, the two of them giggling like schoolgirls.

Leo and Guang Hong had caught up as they wound their way out of the airport to the road. Though they’d been messaging each other all the time they’d been apart, there was something different about walking next to each other, matching their strides and bumping elbows affectionately.

When Guang Hong had begun steering them toward the bike rental, Leo had perked up before looking at the flowers still in his hands in worry. Guang Hong had smiled and told him to wait outside, before returning with a old-style tandem bicycle, complete with front basket.

They’d made their way through the streets, reveling in the cheerful, bustling atmosphere. Leo had pointed out a little cart in one of the market squares, and they had stopped to eat, Guang Hong laughing at Leo’s wide-eyed reaction to biting into a pepper, Leo wiping a crumb from his cheek. It’s incredible how Guang Hong can plan everything and think it’s perfect, and then Leo comes along with his spontaneous grace and somehow makes it a thousand times better.

Eventually, they’d reached the café Seung-gil had recommended. Leo thankfully hadn’t looked too closely at the couple that walked out as they walked in and so had missed Victor’s conspiratory wink before Yuuri had dragged him away.

Leo had squeezed his hand– when had he taken it?– as they entered and were led to a table by the window, their favorite songs beginning to filter softly through the room.

And now here they are, looking at each other over a pink candle and a red rose, and so Guang Hong finally says what’s been hanging in the air this whole time, artless and simple: “I love you.”

On Leo’s face there’s no hint of surprise, and Guang Hong thinks that this is why they were meant for each other: their worlds are made of simple truths: this is how it is, this is how I feel, this is how it will be.

Leo smiles, takes his hand. “I know.”

Then he laughs as Nat King Cole’s light tones rise through the air, but without letting go of Guang Hong’s hand he sings along with the chorus– all for the love of you– and his voice is sweet and perfectly, divinely clear.