Dally's Backstory Headcannons.

warning: mentions of abuse, beating, and death.

-Dally loved New York.

-Before he toughened up he always appreciated the fact that New York City was a city of dreams.

-Dally used to have a lot of dreams.

-When he came home one day to his mom missing he ran out of the house throwing a complete fit.

-The gang found him crying at two in the morning.

-He was ten then.

-They gave him his first cigarette and told him to drink a beer.

-It would make him feel better.

-So he did.

-They asked him to do a favor for them.

-They took him to a convenient store and when one of the guys distracted the cashier Dally stuffed his pockets with cash from the register.

-They wanted to keep him around after that.

-They nicknamed him “Cry Baby” though.

-Because at first he did cry a lot.

-But even after he stopped crying all the time the name stuck.

-A week after meeting them they beat the crap out of him.

-They told him it would make him tough.

-Three days after that when he wanted to runaway from them they said they got him a present to apologize.

-They made him get his first tattoo.

-Dally hated the little teardrop they made him get on his hip.

“Look it’s our little man, Cry Baby’s, first tattoo.”

-But he didn’t want the tears to fall, he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.

-Dally tried so hard to hold them in that night.

-He never cried again.

-A month later and Dally had his first arrest.

-He thought it would make him look tough to them.

-That they would come to juvie to congratulate him.

-No one visited him.

-All Dally ever tried to do was impress them.

-He never said no to a request from them because all he wanted was to fit in with the older guys.

-Dally was fourteen when he decided to leave.

-He had been in juvie at the time that he heard on the news that a woman was beaten to death.

-They showed the pictures of his gang.

-They had done it.

-They showed the picture of his mom.

-They had killed his mom.

-Dally’s blood had run cold.

-That could have been him.

-He could have done that to his mom.

-And he knew that he had done it to someone else’s loved ones before.

-He beat up his roommate in a fit of rage.

-His juvie stay was extended and he was let out on his fifteenth birthday.

-He left the city immediately to go somewhere else.

-Maybe Texas or maybe California.

-He hitch hiked all the way.

-One guy let him off in a little town called Tulsa, Oklahoma.

-Dally figured he’d stay the night there and go in the morning.

-The next day he was walking through some neighborhood when he saw three boys leaving a house.

-One looked like they could be his around age.

-Dally didn’t know why he stopped to watch.

-A woman ran out after the boys and made them stop so she could kiss their cheeks.

-They walked off and Dally watched as the woman waved goodbye to her sons.

-Dally thought she looked familiar.

-She kind of reminded him of her mom.

-Dally decided to stay in Tulsa one more night.

-Later in that afternoon he came across a group of guys playing football in a field.

-He recognized some of them from that morning and walked in their direction.

-The oldest looking one waved him over.

-“Wanna join?”

-Dally told him he didn’t know how.

-So they taught him.

-And they played until dark.

-And then they all went over to one of their houses for dinner and brought Dally along.

-It was the house from that morning.

-Dally couldn’t stop staring at the woman in that house.

-And he decided to stay in Tulsa a little while longer.

As it’s snowing in New York City I’m dreaming about vacation ✨ going to Puerto Rico in 9 days and I cannot wait to photograph the beach adventures! So excited 💛🌟 wearing @christydawn

a bit from an unfinished modern-au-with-canon-dreams story that seems appropriate. happy(?) barricade day, my loves. xo

Alone in his bed in New York City, Grantaire is dreaming:

It is his finest hour. The best Grantaire has ever been and will ever be. It is the end and they face it united. In the end he is everything that is desired of him: he is decisive and brave, dedicated and strong. He goes with a smile, and a smile is given in return. Grantaire has never been less afraid.

As the final admission of his love, here where love may not be spoken, Grantaire asks for permission to join this last act. His beloved takes his hand and presses it with his own. His beloved speaks of their love like that. His beloved is decisive and brave, dedicated and strong. Grantaire knows that Enjolras is not afraid.

In the end they are where they began, as two people merged and made one. It is right that they should finish like this. Together they are not afraid.


How do we understand the idea of art? How do we understand the concept of social justice? What does Art Education do?

These were some of the questions explored by school administrators, arts educators, teachers, parents, youth, and community organizers gathered on March 24th at the Brooklyn Museum’s Arts as Social Justice Roundtable. Through group discussion, image reflection, and sharing personal stories, participants investigated the intersection of the Arts and Social Justice and the pedagogical implications of this relationship.After sharing some of the issues most impacting their communities, participants broke into smaller groups where they  raised a host of other questions including, “How can art redefine social concepts and dynamics?” “What is the relationship between art-making and learning in general? How can art bring communities together?” and “How can art help us imagine new social possibilities?”

Some key findings from the gathering included:

  • We often assume a shared understanding of Social Justice and this is often counter-productive.
  • Social Justice should be approached as a commitment to PROCESS. An understanding of pedagogy and the ability to facilitate groups around difficult conversations is essential to this process.
  • At its core Art can also be understood as a process/approach towards learning and doing. There is an intimate relationship between all authentic learning and Art.
  • Within the context of Art, a Social Justice perspective requires us to expand and questions traditional notions of “Fine Arts” and artistic “Canons”.
  • Art Education is essential to Social Justice because Social Justice requires Social Imagination.
  • There is power in collective thinking and group learning. There is a need and yearning for more spaces that bring together diverse cross-section of people to engage and to wrestle with these questions.

Over the next two years, the Education Division will continue asking these questions as we begin a new partnership with local community organizations and middle schools in Central Brooklyn (Districts 16 & 17) with the support from the Kenan Foundation. The partnership will result  in a student-driven community arts project highlighting the transformative power of the arts. The Arts as Social Justice Roundtable was the first step in learning from colleagues across the field and sharing inspirational approaches as we begin this new endeavor.

In reflecting on art education, imagination, and social justice, Director of Education, Adjoa Jones de Almeida recently wrote,  “Now more than ever, we must look at those realms in our collective consciousness that privilege the imagination and the human capacity to create. Continuous engagement with artistic practices strengthens our imagination muscle. Arts education is essential, because it builds our ability to dream and imagine beyond our present condition.” As we work to strengthen our Arts as Social Justice Pedagogy, Education staff will continue investigating the intersection between Arts and Social Justice in our teaching as well as in conversations with visitors, staff, and community members.

Posted by Adjoa Jones de Almeida and Katherine Kusiak Carey

Coming up roses.

Originally posted by jeonbase

Pairinng: Yoongi x Reader

Word Count: 1259

Genre: angst and fluff

A/N: I’m really nervous and i dont know what to say, help. Well, basically this is the first time I publish something here on Tumblr and I’m excited but anxious *mental breakdown*. It’s based on the song “coming up roses” sung by Keira Knightley. Sorry if there are mistakes and I hope you like it!!

There you were, 3AM and walking by yourself on the New York streets, the city of dreams, but in that moment, that adjective didn’t define it to you.

You remembered clearly how it all started and how it all ended.

It was a Saturday night and you were in a pub all by yourself, alone, it was one of those days when everyone and everything was upsetting, unbearable.

The first time you saw him, you thought he was walking towards you, but he wasn’t, he was actually going to write his name on a paper to be on a list since that night was one of those of “open microphone”.

One hour or so later he was getting on stage, with a paper on his left hand, ready to do what he wanted to. And of all things on earth, he read a poem written by him. 

You could have sworn in that moment that it was the most beautiful poem you’ve ever listened, even Walter Whitman, you favorite one, had been relegated.

When he got off the stage you approached him and he looked at you with his cute smile. You also realized his pink hair, something really unusual to see. When you were close enough he asked you if you liked the poem and you started mumbling that how could you not. Then he smiled again at you and then both of you started talking for hours, even the pub closing didn’t stop you, you went to some 24 hours cafeteria and continued talking for hours, till the sun rose indicating a new day, and a new chapter of your life started.

With the rays of the sun illuminating your face, he kissed you softly, and that was the exactly moment when you fell, really quick but really slow at the same time, it was a contradiction itself, but it was also breathtaking.

Few months later you found yourself dating him, doing the most absurd things, telling him your most secret dream, you told him you wanted to be a song writer, to create your own music. He promised he would help you make it true, he even offered his poems to help you write more songs, but each time he did, you had to say no, his poems belonged to him, just to him, you couldn’t take them.

Five years had already gone by reaching to music companies to show them your music, but also gone by being rejected each time. 

Five years of sadness but at the same time, five years when you felt truly loved, and it was all that mattered to you. Although your dreams didn’t come true, you were happy cause love always came first to you.

You tried to stop chasing your dreams multiple times, but he kept encouraging you, giving you the strength you needed but hadn’t.

Out of nothing, one day, a company called you, you had been discovered.
You moved with him to a little apartment in New York, you started recording, you started creating new music, you started giving concerts in small places, you started becoming a little famous, and he started acting weird.

Suddenly every week you were given flowers, roses, but you knew they weren’t for you, of course not, he had never given you a bouquet of them, it wasn’t your style.

You were that kind of couple that celebrated the birthdays, the anniversaries on the couch doing everything and nothing, sleeping and singing, so the first time he came home with them you couldn’t help but ask him the reason to do it, and of course, there was none. 

I just loved them the same way I love you” he said.

However, you kept loving him, how could you not, after all he was Min Yoongi, the love of your life, the one who knew you the most, the one who came with you to the big apple, your number one supporter.

You both kept walking down by the New York streets looking for the perfect moment, the perfect time to find the inspiration to write the perfect song. You both kept making love like it was the last day on earth, or at least you did. And each time after it, you used to get in the shower and cry. You both kept doing the things that used to make you the happiest people on earth but at the same time those things broke you.

It was unfair that even though you knew he was lying to you, you loved him, and each day more than the previous one, it was unfair cause deep down you knew that the relationship would have a sad ending after all.

You continued loving him cause it was practically the only thing you knew how to do, it was the only thing that might have saved your relationship.

The roses kept coming each week and kept coming for seven months until you couldn’t take it anymore and exploded.

It was a Thursday afternoon, and you were on the old and vintage couch, you were trying to write a song and he stopped reading the book on his hands and looked at you. It hit you like a truck, you loved him, it was crystal clear, and he did love you, you were sure about that until that moment.

It was in that instant when you questioned yourself if he really loved you, even though he was cheating on you, you had been sure that he still loved you, or at least you didn’t want to expect the opposite. So that day, with the candles illuminating the room you asked him.

You questioned him to whom those roses really belonged, he didn’t expect that question. Of course he wouldn’t, you had hoped for months the roses to stop coming to you, you had hoped that he realized you knew about him cheating and he recognized the mistake he was making. A huge one.

You put all your efforts on it, but that day you just collapsed, you realized that one person couldn’t fix a relationship when the other one didn’t want it to be fixed.

The argument lasted hours, hours when you cried, hours when you comforted each other’s, hours when you made love for the last time, you could say the most beautiful one.

Then he packed his things and left without saying goodbye, he didn’t even try to apologized, cause deep down you knew that there was no need to do it, even if he apologized, the pain would still be there, like it had been for the last seven months, there was no point.

You didn’t see him again, each night you used to walk recreating the same routs you both made, hoping to see him at least for the very last time, but he never appeared. It completely broke you, you still loved him, with all your soul, but life kept happening, the world didn’t stop because of your break up.

You kept writing songs, signing them, realizing that at least, you made a few people happy with them and you thought that maybe he was doing the same, writing poems and secretly you were expecting they weren’t for you, you didn’t want more attention.

You never got to know who she was, how many times happened. But you knew by rote that from that moment you would truly hate those beautiful but harmful roses.

Even though the city of dreams had made yours real, it also broke your heart into million pieces.

anonymous asked:

Do you know of any fics where one or both of them work in the film industry?

Hey anon! I’ve found a few for you.~ 

Your Name In Lights
Summary: Eren has trudged through rejections thrown at him left and right, every role he auditioned for looking for “a different look” or “a little more experience”. He hoped he would be able to make a path for himself in New York City, following his childhood dream of becoming an actor. Levi’s been looking for the perfect actor, one that fits the image of the character in his head. One audition of a messy tousled hair-brunet solves both of their issues. Eren becomes the lead actor of Levi’s newest play with directed by Erwin Smith. Through rehearsals and cast nights they make their way to the premiere while becoming closer to each other.

Sudden Dog Sitting
Summary: Levi somehow gets roped into taking care of his hot neighbor’s dog, not that he’s complaining.

You (Call Me)
Summary: Finally the age-old question is answered. What would you do for a Klondike bar?



PROM KING - trailer

USA, 2017, 102 min written and directed by Schaap

Charlie is an adorably awkward 20-year-old freshman who is attending college in New York City. A hopeless romantic, he dreams of being kissed while standing on the rainsoaked streets of the Big Apple, a soundtrack of swelling strings playing in the background. Love may be a many splendoured thing, but Charlie is looking in all the wrong places, and the men in his life offer little more than heartache and disappointment. With every romantic failure, Charlie becomes increasingly disillusioned, fearing he will never find his happy Hollywood ending. 

Habits - Part 2

Sofia’s Masterlist | Sneha’s Masterlist

(part 1) (part 3)


Finding a place to live in New York City is harder than you thought, and yet when Bucky Barnes makes you an offer you can’t reject, you think your bad luck with hideous apartments might be over. The catch? You two can’t stand each other. (Living with him can’t be that bad, can it?)

Warnings: swearing

Word count: 1214

A/N: Part two to the series co-written entirely by myself and the lovely Sofia (@buckyslion​)

Originally posted by coporolight

Bucky wasn’t lying when he said “five-star quality.” His place is the New York City dream, with large tinted windows that look out over the city’s skyline and a navy blue and white colour scheme that you wouldn’t have ever deemed him capable of maintaining. (Because, let’s be real, Bucky Barnes doesn’t scream stylish when he walks around in a pair of old sweats and a tshirt all day).

Speaking of, you can see Bucky’s smug face from the corner of your eye. He’s leaning against the pillar, eyes trained on you with that godawful omnipresent smirk on his face. You know he saw your sharp intake of breath when you walked in, and you know he knows the answer to his unasked question.

“Great! So we can do all the paperwork later this week, and you can move in whenever.”

You swivel around to face him, eyes narrowed. “I never said I accepted your offer.”

He smiled, showing his teeth this time. “Doll, you didn’t even have to.”

You moved in. Of course you did. At the end of the week you’d shoved all your stuff into a suitcase and then dumped it into the spare room at Bucky’s, filling the room with pictures and clothes and even a plant you got from god-knows-where in a matter of hours. It’s worked out surprisingly nicely since then, mainly because Bucky and you are never home at the same times, which means you don’t have to see his smug face or listen to his stupid voice. The nights are quiet too (you’re a heavy sleeper for the most part, and that might have something to do with it.)

It’s only a week later, when Bucky returns from a mission that you get to experience the joy (!) that is sharing an apartment with him. And the moment you hear something banging against the furniture somewhere in the living room, you remember why you were so skeptical of moving in with him in the first place.

At first, your hazy mind doesn’t even register the sound, but something smashing against the floor makes you bolt up in an instant, all your military training and instincts kicking in as you scramble inside your drawer for your gun. You find it,  cock it, and hold it at the ready, your heart thumping against your chest. It’s late at night, and HYDRA’s still a threat. Especially at Bucky’s house.

Except it’s not HYDRA. It’s not a break in, or anything that requires the slightest use of your military training, because the source of the noise is the asshole himself, standing in the middle of the kitchen, surrounded by pieces of broken porcelain. You lower the gun, and you’re sure he can feel you rolling your eyes. (And he damn well should.)

“What in god’s name are you doing?”

“Oops.” Oops. Fucking oops. Not only is he smashing plates around at an ungodly hour, but he has the audacity to brush it off with an oops.

You squint your eyes at him in disbelief, and he stares right back. There’s a devious smile on his face as his fingers wrap around your favourite mug, a cheap thing you got on a whim during your visit to Niagara Falls when you were a kid.

“What are you doing, Barnes?” Your voice has reached a dangerously low pitch.

His smirk doesn’t fade as he picks it off of the shelf that you so graciously placed it on a few days ago. He examines it, turning it around in his hands, scrunches his nose in disgust, and then throws it across the room, the mug smashing into a million pieces against one of the walls.

You’re sure your eyes are the size of saucers. “Are you fucking insane?”

“We need new dishes,” he shrugs. “Besides, that mug was ugly anyway.”

Breathe, Y/N. Count backwards from ten. Relax. The words of years of military therapy flood your mind as you all but smash his head against the wall, much like he did your mug, because what kind of obnoxious, messed up idiot breaks dishes on purpose, let alone at three in the fucking morning?

“So you just, what? Decide to throw them against the fucking wall?” If Bucky’s even the slightest bit terrified by the shrillness of your voice, he doesn’t show it, leaning casually against the kitchen counter instead.

After a moment of smiling, he shrugs again. “Well, I dropped one. Figured I might as well get rid of the rest. All the plates were chipped anyway.”

“What kind of person does that?”

“My house, my rules.” he says, and you’re one split second away from using the gun that’s now safely tucked into your pyjama pants.

You’re too tired to yell at him, so you settle for a dangerous glare and a threatening finger pointing at him instead. “You’re an asshole, Barnes. A fucked up asshole. And you owe me a new mug,” you tell him as you return to your room, rubbing sleep from your eyes and toying with your gun, seriously considering it for future use. “And you’re cleaning that up!” You yell, right before closing your bedroom door, leaving him to handle the mess.


Two days later, you wake up to a loud banging on your door, before it opens completely, revealing a half naked Barnes in nothing but a towel covering his lower half. Your eyes don’t even travel that far down his body though, because you’re stuck staring at the mess he calls his hair.

It’s pink.

Neon pink.

You try your best at feigning innocence, attempting to keep a straight face. “What’s wrong?”

He’s seething, you can tell. He clenches and unclenches his fists, nostrils flaring and breathing in and out slowly, a muscle ticking in his jaw. You want to laugh, yell ‘karma’s a bitch’ right in his face, but the effect of pretending like it’s no big deal is so much greater.

He glares at you, then points to his head. “What the fuck is this?”

“Your hair?”

He runs his tongue over his teeth. “I know it’s my hair, you idiot. Believe it or not my brain still works after hearing your voice on the regular. What I don’t understand is, why the fuck is it pink?”

You shrug. “I don’t know Barnes, it’s your hair, not mine.”

“How do I fix it?” There’s a tinge of desperation in his voice, and you almost feel bad. But then the image of your mug shattering into a million pieces flashes in your mind, and all remorse is replaced with the satisfaction at seeing him so distressed.

“Your hair, you figure it out.” He’s frustrated. His face is red, a vein showing in his arm, and he looks like he’s going to spontaneously combust.

He opens his mouth to say something, but a beep from your phone cuts him off, and before he can storm at you, you’re lifting a finger, effectively shutting him up.

“Well, look at that,” you show him your screen, where Steve’s message is displayed. He takes a moment to read it, face growing redder by the second.

Urgent mission briefing in twenty. Please be there.

“I guess you’ll have to figure it out after our meeting.”

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"Taylor's songs aren't relatable"
  • Bad Blood: Someone did something that hurt you
  • Mean: Someone was mean to you
  • Never Grow Up: You realize how fast life flies by
  • Long Live: You hope people will remember you someday
  • The Best Day: You have parents and you love them
  • Fifteen: You were a freshman in high school once
  • You're Not Sorry: Someone's apology to you wasn't sincere
  • Change: You believe things will get better
  • Should've Said No: Someone cheated on you
  • Teardrops on My Guitar: Someone didn't like you back
  • You Belong With Me: Your crush was with someone else
  • You Are in Love: You know a really cute couple
  • Back to December: You miss the person you broke up with
  • White Horse: You realize you deserve better
  • Forever & Always: Something ended that you thought would last forever
  • All Too Well: someone stole your scarf
  • Last Kiss: You went through a difficult breakup
  • Sparks Fly: You love the way someone makes you feel
  • Mine: You are in a really cute relationship
  • Innocent: You regret doing something
  • 22: You are 22 years old
  • Clean: You have broken away from a bad habit
  • Welcome to New York: You love New York City
  • Wildest Dreams: ;)
  • Shake it Off: You stopped caring what other people think
  • Cold As You: Someone is always ruining your day