withimpunity | (no subject)

♥___♥ that picture is TOO GORGEOUS.

IKR? His long hair is so fucking epic.

HE IS SO FUCKING BEAUTIFUL.

I need an icon of Ian that doesn't have Nina in it.

PSSH, that's not necessary.

OH DEER JEEZIS.

Its so presh I even made it an icon. And here's the original, I know you wants it, girl!

Mmm, I like your version better, but still verrrrry verrrry pretty. I think we need to roadtrip to Atlanta when they're filming again and stalk the set, yeah?

I can't even believe his eyes, man. And GOD, I love his long hair.

In the spirit of TVD gorgeous men, I've been dying to share...

I mean, seriously. The gloves. Fuck me. (<--- That's what Ian said. Heh.)

UNF. GLOVES.

HOT.

and b/c I like to have a matching set:

OHMYFUCKINGCHRIST. Seriously, Ian? Why so hot? Just go ahead and grab your dick, why don't you? Oh wait, you did? Huh.

*explodes*

Mmm. He looks a bit deliciously school boyish here...I want RPS AU with your Ian pic now! Ian's the trendy bi hipster boy who seduces wittle Paul...

Ian is the trendy bi hipster boy - LOL I LOVE HOW THAT'S NOT AU. Well, you know. Most of it. Probably all of it! C'mon! Hehe.

I like this. I'm going to put it in the fic bank.

INORITE?! If anyone was ever made to be bi and probably is, it's Ian Somerhalder. I mean, seriously. He's just sex incarnate...Sex is for everyone. And Paul, well...how could he resist? I like to entertain ideas (well, as of this current sentence) that Ian and Nina are devious and seduce Paul together...

Fic bank? Is it sad that I immediately thought spank bank? Because transfer it there once interest accrues...

They're very synonymous. ;)

(I entertain idea about Nina/Paul/Ian constantly. Its getting borderline unhealthy.) Its just, how can you NOT fuck Ian Somerhalder? He looks at EVERYONE like he wants to eat them alive. He's like the Captain Jack Harkness of real life.

Because I am turning your post into a pic spam...TVD inspires spontaneous picspam circle jerks...A mini photo fic:

Oh, Stefan. Daydreaming in class again?

Ah, that's why. Understandable.

....

We interrupt Stefan's reveries for this breaking Mystic Falls News Update!

Damon had developed a Diabolical Plan, Part 3!

Big brother has decided to go back to high school too. Mysterious.

Edited 2010-05-25 05:17 (UTC)

LOLOL HIS FAAACE. (Damon's.) But also Stefan's. I understand, Stef. ALARIC IS DREAMY.

There's a boy a few tables over that's been staring at him the minute he sat down and every time Paul looks up to check his watch or stretch, or whatever, their eyes meet for almost a second and the guy's mouth twists into this impish kind of grin, or maybe its more of a smirk. Whatever. Paul's trying to memorize names and dates and other bullshit for his Anthropology final on Wednesday and he's been staring at the same paragraph for the last fifty minutes for some reason.

Running his fingers through his hair, Paul shoves his laptop into his bag and slings the strap over his shoulder. There's a coffee shop on the bottom floor of the library. Maybe if he gets some caffeine in him he'll be able to concentrate better.

He takes the elevator down and digs around in his back pocket for his wallet, pulling out the gift card his mom gave him for his birthday.

"You're not seriously going to drink coffee from there, are you?" A voice behind him says, too close for Paul's comfort zone. There's a reason personal bubbles exist and this guy is totally breaking that rule. "They don't serve any Fair Trade coffee. Like, at all. I checked."

"Fair Trade?" Paul turns around. "What?" Oh great, the smirky guy from the library. Just what he needed.

The guy flashes that impish grin again, and Paul's a little alarmed at the amount of thought he's been putting into this guy's lips in the last hour. Not that it's his fault, not that it was his idea. Up close, he feels his eyes drawn to the way the guy's lips turn up wickedly at the corners; he's got dimples you could poke a finger in. Not that there's any reason why he would be touching this dude's face. That's the problem - the guy's close enough that he could, if he wanted, which he doesn't, and it occurs to Paul that he's been staring, and he's not sure for how long. He notices the lips moving, shakes his head a bit, and looks the guy in the eyes.

Well, anyone would be kind of blown away by this guy's eyes. Paul's never seen anything like them. They're sort of disturbing, really - unsettling. Blue as the ocean if the ocean were ever that blue, the sky in HD. Clearly, Paul's brain is fried - he really needs coffee.

"Please don't tell me you don't know what Fair Trade means." The guy sighs and rolls those unreal eyes dramatically.

"Fine, I won't tell you." Paul smirks before he can help it, having meant to turn back around before the guy's eyes light up with mirth. Too late. The guy laughs, clapping his hands together once and then clapping one on Paul's shoulder, more solid than he'd expected. The hand feels warm through his threadbare t-shirt, and Paul raises his own hand and pries the guy's off slowly, like he's handling something dangerous or disgusting. The guy winks at that, then pushes a strand of long brown hair behind his ear.

"Save your gift card," the guy says, but before Paul can bat an eye, he's snatched it out of Paul's hand. Now this is a bit much. Paul arches a brow at that, lips pursing as he considers how to play this. Just as he raises his hand to snatch it back, mouth opening to tell this weirdo to buzz the fuck off, the guy's right up against him, right in his face, and then Paul feels a hand slide into his back pocket. The guy's blue eyes are glinting into his and it's another second or so of staring before Paul feels sense wash over him again, and he shoves the guy away with a scowl.

"What the fuck, man?"

The guy places his hands up in an open, placating gesture; they're empty, the gift card back in his pocket, Paul realizes. The guy pulls a face, an exagerrated sort of "yikes I'm sorry" that he doesn't mean, and the nerve!

"No harm, no foul, man." The guy grins again, just like that. "What I was saying was that I want to buy you a cup of coffee. Good coffee. Freeeeee coffee." He sing-songs the last bit, his eyebrows waggling, and Paul can't quite figure out why the hell he's still standing here watching this. Dumbstruck by his oddity, maybe? The guy's smile softens slightly, and his eyes flick down to his fingers, fingers that are plucking at the hem of his shirt. He looks up, and this smile, it's almost rueful, and goddamnit if Paul's describing this guy's lips again. No need for a thesaurus for his Anthro test.

"My name's Ian," the guy says. "And I'll throw in a scone too." His eyes light up again. "Oh man, they've got these delicious vegan blueberry things that are the size of your head. I fucking kid you not." The guy - Ian - looks at him hopefully. He's flashing these puppy eyes and a pout that shouldn't work, and Paul is seriously beginning to question both of their sanities.

But then, his stomach growls.

Ian's eyes flash down to his middle and fuck, Paul sees it the second the synapses fire in the bastard's brain. He's made.

"See," Ian smirks, a finger poking briefly at Paul's stomach and seriously, does this guy have no boundaries at all? Paul's just, he's not used to be touched so much. Maybe that's his issue, though. He hasn't exactly made a lot of friends here yet excluding his roommate, and he wouldn't exactly go so far as to call Sanjay his friend; more like the guy that gives him a free contact high whenever he wants since he reeks of weed twenty-four-seven.

Its just Paul, he's kind of always been a little shy. He guesses you could call him a loner, but that sort of comes with the connotation that you choose to be that way. Paul doesn't chose to be the lame weirdo freak with no friends that eats way too many pizza rolls and stays home on Saturday nights - it just kinda happens. So maybe this guy Ian, maybe he's not the freak. Maybe Paul is.

"Free, huh?" He asks, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth nervously. He can tell Ian is fighting back a monstrous grin right now; it looks like his eyeballs might explode.

"As in I pay, you don't. Scones in your belly and caffeine in your veins. You're gonna love the coffee, man. Its the best in the whole city, I shit you not."

"I can't wait," Paul says, just to have something to say. Its not until moments like this when he really gets how socially retarded he is. "Um, oh. By the way, I'm Paul."

Ian doesn't lose stride, just cocks his head to the side as they walk and smiles. "I know," he says. "Dr. Brunner. Ten-thirty, Monday's and Wednesday. You sit in the front row, all eager and shit. Its adorable."

Paul has no idea what to say to that, but luckily Ian turns forward again and keeps walking and all he has to do is keep up.

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um, tag? you're it? lol

YAYZ!

Re: YAYZ!