and i already read my magazine

Figure Skating Charms and a Wealth of Nuance

Haha…so…*guiltily posts this months later* I had this in my drafts 70% completed since episode 10 came out, but with episode 11 and 12 the fandom exploded on other issues, and I thought it was kind of irrelevant since the rings have so many layers of meaning already. But in PASH magazine’s March issue, Kubo-sensei actually brings this up. 

I ended up cleaning this post and after finding out that @sachiro​ was going to make a similar post, we decided to have “pair posts” to submit for victuuriweek. You can read their yoi meta here , which discusses and connects specific moments throughout the series to the points I’ll lay out in the second half of this post.

About Yuuri’s charm. Yuuri has a figure skating precedent for buying jewelry to act as a charm - it isn’t a blasé “lots of good stuff around here…yeah, rings can make good charms, right? idk, but I’m doing it anyway.” Here’s yet another layer.

Charms are a legitimate THING in figure skating.

You won’t read about this in figure skating intros or on Wikipedia, and you won’t hear commentators talk about it either (if it’s brought up, consider it a stroke of luck and immediately save that video/interview forever). Unless you follow skaters to the point of knowing about their personal lives, then this is one meaningful aspect of figure skating that is easy to miss.

Keep reading

The Pink Floyd exhibition is going to be touring the world for five years after it finishes its five months at the V&A. Hopefully a lot more people will be able to see it.

Why I prefer my eReader over physical books

It’s small enough to fit in my bag
It’s not too heavy
Mine is touch screen
I can read it with one hand
It can read to me!!!
I can read a sample if any book I want
Discounted prices on books
I can make the text bigger or smaller
Pretty much all the classics are free!!
I can save my place in the book without dog earing it
No grubby finger prints on the pages
The battery lasts for ages
I can make notes in books and not ruin them
You can read magazines/ newspapers on it
I can put cool/ pretty covers on it
I don’t need to worry that I have to lend a book to a friend and never see it again (despite their best intentions)
The cloud allows you to redownload the books you have already purchased again if you get a new device
Estimates practical reading times of chapters based on your average reading speed
If you’re reading something “embarrassing” no one can see the cover
It fits a bajillion books on it

Remembering River by Reid Rosefelt (Elle Magazine, February 1994)

When REID ROSEFELT met River Phoenix, the fifteen-year-old actor was already touched by genius and fascinated by the dark side.

‘’It’s five A.M. on Monday, November 1, when I hear the delivery man drop the Times outside my apartment door. Picking up the paper, I glance at the headlines: “Federico Fellini, Film Visionary, Is Dead at 73” - sad news, certainly, but not shocking after his months of illness. Underneath a picture of the departed maestro are the words, “Young Film Star Dies.” After I read who is being referred to, I am startled to hear myself cry out.

I met River Phoenix in February of 1986 when he was a fifteen year old filming The Mosquito Coast on location in Belize, and I was on the set as the unit publicist. My first day there, I was sitting in the makeshift catering area when a handsome teenager introduced himself to me. “I’m Rio Phoenix,” he said. I told him I’d thought his name was River. “Rio is Spanish for River,” he said. “I haven’t decided which name I want to go with yet.” The name wasn’t the only thing that was in flux. River’s only previously released movie had been Explorers, in which he played a pudgy little nerd. In a matter of months, he seemed to have gone from Spanky McFarland to James Dean.

The Mosquito Coast’s stars were Harrison Ford and Helen Mirren, but it quickly became apparent that River’s acting skills were also formidable. One night, the cast and crew were watching dailies of a scene (which didn’t make it into the movie) in which Ford’s character, a deluded expatriate inventor, brings ice to a remote village. He’s sure the natives have never seen it before and will react in amazement. But the village chief, popping the chilly cube from one hand to the next, utters “Ice!”. Ford, realizing missionaries beat him to the punch, is furious.

It was a wonderful scene, with Ford shifting quickly from deluded pride to disgust. But it was River, playing his son, who took everyone’s breath away. In a series of close-ups, he silently watched his father’s triumph and humiliation - and the powerful emotions that played across his face were shattering. Everyone in the room knew, without question, what kind of talent he possessed. And an unspoken question hung in the air: where will he go with all of this promise?

If River had a feel for his movie character, it might have been because of the strong parallels between the story and his own life. Like the boy in The Mosquito Coast, River had also been taken to Latin America at a young age by his parents. John and Arlyn Phoenix were a hippie couple who traveled as missionaries for a sect called the Children of God. “We handed out Jesus pamphlets, mainly to young people, to get them off drugs, to get them uncorrupted - that was the main goal.” River said. “My sister and I both sang. I played guitar. We were a cute duo - I was five and she was three. I would talk over the microphone and say ‘God Loves You!’ in Spanish. 'Hold my hand and I’ll take you there.’ And I really believed it… I grew up totally cut off from the main world. I was really a different kid. I’ve been around the movie business, so I can play it cool and all that, but when people are different they have that off thing about them. Their whole presence is just a little innocent, I think.”

As part of my press-book interviews, I asked everyone about River. “River Phoenix was born to it, born to movies.” said Mosquito director Peter Weir. Harrison Ford agreed. “What he has is some manner of natural talent,” he said. “There are a lot of people who have that, but River is also very serious about his work - very workmanlike and professional, far beyond what you’d expect from a fifteen-year-old boy… I don’t like to talk to other actors about acting. I think it’s a real mistake. But River asks a lot of questions that require answers - none of which I can really supply, but they’re interesting questions.”

River was uncomfortable with the idea that he had been born with some kind of innate gift. He felt he had to work hard at what he achieved. Likewise, he was obsessed with trying to find a way to live with integrity, and terrified that all the praise over his acting was going to affect his identity. He told me that he had to get up every morning and fight to remain himself.

The Mosquito Coast shot six days out of seven. Sometimes, on the Sunday off, River and I would play music. He had brought his guitar and I had a portable electronic synthesizer. I wondered if there was something strange about my hanging out with someone so much younger than myself. But I found him much more stimulating company than most of the other people on the set. My conversations with them tended to be about problems we were facing with the film, or about show business. Conversations with River were free-ranging and often traveled on a cosmic plane. “I was a curious kid when I was younger.” he once told me. “I wouldn’t be satisfied unless I had experienced everything I had a question about. I always wondered what it would feel like if I cut myself with a razor blade. So I did it. When I was eleven, I realized this pain stuff isn’t the way to go.”

As I watched River do his work, I was impressed by his generosity with the other actors. He was never competitive. In dailies, I would often notice that Jadrian Steele, the actor who played River’s younger brother, would try to place himself in a prominent position on-screen. River always seemed to hang back to the furthest recesses. But the more he stepped out of frame, the more your eyes were drawn to him.

There is a certain breed of actor who can show you everything they’re thinking without uttering a word. They are like emotional gladiators, nakedly putting themselves on the line so the audience can achieve a catharsis. But they’re more than thin-skinned - they almost have no outer coating at all. With their heightened sensitivity, they walk through the world like someone with a hearing disorder - everything is a clattering phantasmagoria to them because they feel too intensely to have a normal life.

They’re drawn to Hollywood, one of the most brutal terrains imaginable, where the price, but never the value, of their souls is understood. It never surprises me when extraordinary people die young, just the opposite. I’m encouraged that now and then they sometimes find a mechanism to survive.’’

“Buck, you are in for a real treat! So you remember that deli that Steve has been raving about forever? I stood in line for five hours and guess what? I got us sandwiches!” My enthusiasm was met with silence. “I don’t think I am gonna finish one of these myself, though… they weigh almost as much as a new-born baby.” I began unpacking the brown deli bag and made my way around the counter to get a plate out the cupboard for us. “These have eggplant in them… I hope you aren’t allergic to eggplant.” I lifted a slice of the bread and inspected the inside; hot wads of fresh mozzarella was already dripping down the sides of the plate. Bucky still didn’t respond.

I glanced up at him and noticed that he was reading a magazine. He had his dark hair pulled loosely into a bun and his left foot was perched over his right knee. Bucky was fully clothed. He wore a plain white t-shirt, a denim jacket, dark jeans and a pair of white sneakers. Perhaps, he too had just returned home. “Would you mind coming over to help me with a couple glasses?” He didn’t bother to look up from his magazine. With a heavy sigh, I trudged over to where he was standing and leaned over the couch. “What you got there, handsome?” I was curious to see what had his attention. I pressed my lips against his stubbled jaw and got a better look at his face. His eyebrows were knitted closely together and his eyes remained fixed on the words of the page.

‘Beauty and the Baizen.’

“Where did you find that?” I demanded before trying to snatch the magazine out from between his fingers. He quickly rose to his feet, pulling the magazine out of reach.

“When were you going to tell me about this?” Bucky sounded as calm as a tropical breeze but his eyes, oh his eyes, were stormier than Southern Seas! It was almost an instinctive reaction when he came round the couch for me to back away from him.

“Baby, that was such a long time ago. He meant nothing to me; I was young and stupid…” The shakiness in my voice wasn’t convincing anyone.

“He must have meant something because according to this…” he gestured towards a photograph of me and a young dark haired man who had his lips pressed to my cheek and his arm snaked around my waist, “… you were willing to marry him!” He tossed the magazine onto the couch and I flinched, bumping my hip into the side of the counter.

“I was 18. He was older, dangerous and exciting but I know better now…” Bucky was my ‘better.’

“Do you, though? From where I am standing your taste hasn’t evolved much.” I sidled against the counter, moving away from his intimidating form.

Come on, Buck! So what? I almost married someone… at least, I didn’t kill a bunch of people!” I shot with venom. It didn’t take him long to close the space between us. He pressed his hands on either side of the counter and caged me between his body and the cold granite. My heart began to thump faster. I looked up at him challengingly, “…besides that, Steve told me you had more than your share of lovers back in the day so don’t judge me, okay?” Bucky was completely unfazed by my emotive responses. He studied my face; blue eyes searching for some tell as to what I was thinking. I tried to look away from him but he grabbed a handful of my hair and jerked my head backwards, forcing me to maintain eye contact. We stared into each other’s eyes for a second.

Bucky dipped his head and pressed his lips into the crook of my neck and began to gnaw hungrily at the soft skin. It was without a doubt that there was going to be a checkered pattern of red marks there when he was done. “Bucky…” I moaned when his tongue flicked against my sweet spot. The fingers of my left hand held on the countertop tightly as I knotted the fingers of my right hand into his hair, pulling it free in the process. Suddenly, he gripped the underside of my thighs and lifted me onto the counter. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him in to me. The soft nibbles of his mouth were painfully pleasurable. “Buck? Buck, stop…” It took every ounce of self-control for me to tell him to stop. He immediately stepped away from me and gave me a questioning look. “Why did you bring up the Baizen thing?” As much as I wanted him to continue his good work, I needed to know. Bucky bit his bottom lip and raked his fingers through his hair. He looked sheepish and almost… ashamed.

“Just the thought that you could’ve been with someone else right now drives me crazy!” Oh Bucky…

I cupped his face in my hands, pressing his cheeks together so that his mouth puckered up like a fish. It was a cute look on him.

“James.” I pecked him on the lips lightly. “Buchanan.” Each peck lasted a little longer than the last. “Barnes.” Another peck. “You are the most insufferably annoying, frustratingly handsome, foolishly charming and ridiculously –” Before I could finish my sentence he slammed his lips onto mine. Every brush of his lips against mine was like a tidal wave: destructive and beautiful. He lifted me off the counter and carried me over to our bedroom. It was only when he laid me down on the mattress gently did he pull away from my lips. I was breathless. “I have waited twenty years to be kissed like that…” I confessed as I locked my hands behind his neck.

“That’s cute, doll. I’ve waited a hundred…” Bucky grinned and I couldn’t help but blush. I bit my bottom lip pensively before locking my legs around his torso and using all my strength to flip us over so he was on his back and I was straddling him.

“In that case… I really shouldn’t keep you waiting anymore then, Sergeant Barnes,“ I smirked before kissing him again.

15 03 2017

 I came home really early today, so i finally had time to begin reading things that have been laying on my nightstand for weeks. I also bought a new watch, because i thought it’s really cute. And the photo in the top left corner is my dd’s old picture that he gave to me, because he knows that I really like black and white photos. The day hasn’t even ended yet and I already think that it was one of the calmest days  that I had this year. Hope you’re having a great day/night well ☀️ 

Well we’ve all had sex and we all know what we’re doing. And we all know we want to make it look good – everyone wants to look good! I feel very, very relaxed in the sex scenes with Jonathan. We can both go for it and at no point do I feel like I’m taking advantage, or like I’m being taken advantage of.

Whenever I did scenes with Joe Williamson, who plays my boyfriend Jon, he’s straight in real life… He’s fucking brilliant, but a part of me always felt slightly guilty that he had to kiss and cuddle and be intimate with me. I felt like, ‘I know this isn’t your game, it’s my game, and I don’t want you to ever feel like I’m taking advantage just because it’s written in the script and you signed up for it.’ Do you know what I mean? I felt like I had a responsibility with Joe.

But with Jonathan, I was literally just like, hands and fingers everywhere – and he loved it! And vice versa, because it’s comfortable and it’s real. That’s the most freeing thing – It feels very, very easy to have sex with Jonathan Groff.

— 

Russell Tovey, about his sex scenes with Jonathan Groff in Looking.

(source: GT, January 2015 issue)

How Hermione Granger Became The Big Sister I Never Had

I was 5 years old the first time I met Hermione Granger. It was 2001, and I, along with the rest of the world, was eagerly anticipating the release of the first Harry Potter film. I must have read the first book already, because I clearly remember obsessively collecting any relevant newspaper clipping or magazine article that crossed my path. I coveted any and all merchandise sold to publicise the film’s release. I remember, when it came out, sitting in a dark cinema with my aunt and uncle, craning our necks because (presumably, as no adult would be so stupid) I had insisted that we sit in the front row. I have, for these reasons, always said that I began loving Harry Potter at age 5. Truthfully, though, I have no recollection of the first time that first line was read to me. Truthfully, those books and their characters have been a constant in my life ever since I can remember.

I was an only child: an island, albeit an island quietly content with my lot. I preferred to sit in solitary corners, reading books of rapidly increasing complexity, rather than run around with my peers and risk grazing a knee or – god forbid – breaking a sweat.

Like so many girls my age, I found myself in Hermione Granger. Even at 5 I was a bookworm, a tiny baby-nerd whose growth into a fully fledged know-it-all was inevitable. I was, of course, far from the first person to latch on to the only female lead in the most popular book series on the planet. I don’t claim to be special among the thousands of girls who idolised her, who crimped their hair and waved plastic wands when Halloween rolled around in an attempt to emulate their hero. Maybe you, dear reader, were one of those girls. But I was 5, and I didn’t know you then (unless I did, in which case – small world, huh?), and anyway, that’s the thing about books: As soon as they are opened, their world and their characters exist entirely for their reader.

It took me years to come up with the perfect term to define my relationship with Hermione. It couldn’t be friendship, because she was slightly too far out of reach: She was older and smarter, and already had friends whose adventures I could only observe, in awe, from a distance. Role model didn’t seem right either. I felt a role model had to be someone established in their wisdom and ready to lead. Albus Dumbledore was a role model (an incredibly flawed one, maybe – but that’s a different essay). Hermione was just a girl trying to navigate adolescence and save the world. And I could relate, at least, to the former.

It wasn’t until recently that I realized what Hermione had been to me. I both recognized myself in her and aspired to be more like her; I don’t know now, at 21, whether I love her so much because I am so much like her, or if I am so much like her because I have loved her so much. I studied her movements as she navigated ages 11 to 17, and as a result, she unwittingly guided me through the triumphs and troubles of girlhood. I envied her successes and learned from her mistakes. Hermione Granger had become the big sister I never had.

In hindsight, it’s astonishing (and very Hermione-esque) how much guidance I found in the limited information I was given. There’s no denying – as much as I wish Hermione Granger and the Brutal Destruction of the Patriarchy was a thing – that the protagonist of the Harry Potter series is, in fact, Harry Potter.

Regardless, though, I managed it. I took cues from the girl who found herself thrust into completely unfamiliar territory and studied my way out of any difficult situation I found myself in. I learned that it’s okay to cry when friends suddenly start walking past you in the corridors at school and acting as though you’re a stranger. I realized that even if I spent hours in the library, was petrified by a gigantic snake, and solved a centuries-old mystery, a boy would probably get all the credit anyway. And I taught myself to execute the perfect winged liner, because I learned that brains and beauty are not mutually exclusive and that if you want to let loose and dance at the Yule Ball with an internationally renowned Quidditch player then goddammit, you go, girl.

My granddad died almost exactly a year after the final book came out and almost exactly a month before my 14th birthday. He had spent the majority of his life working as the headmaster of a local high school, but retired almost immediately after I was born, therefore spending the majority of my life simply as my Nandad: white-haired and blue-eyed and – in my young mind – full of a world of wisdom. Early on in my obsession, when I was too young to read Harry Potter alone, he read the books aloud to me, his slightly softened Cornish accent intensifying tenfold upon any encounter with the character of Hagrid. He never could correctly pronounce “Hermione”, and I always laughed when he tried.

He died on a Saturday and my small family spent it, as English as ever, knocking back innumerable cups of tea in my grandmother’s small, stuffy living room. That night I went home and picked up Half-Blood Prince and read and read until my head was filled with thoughts of nothing else. I finally drifted into sleep.

The funeral was held a few days later in the small church still frequented by my grandmother. When it was over, exhausted and with dried teardrops on my glasses rendering them almost impossible to see through, I turned again to Half-Blood Prince. I read as Hermione, Harry, and Ron mourned their own white-haired, blue-eyed headmaster and, for the millionth time, was carried through my hardship by characters who had come to feel like family.

Though she helped me through my teen troubles from a distance (and through rereads), Hermione had, for all intents and purposes, left me alone at age 13. The last book came out just a week after my 13th birthday, and I lived through my adolescence without a word from Hermione. A lot of things happened in those almost nine years: I lost friends and made friends and lost friends again, left school and graduated from university, experienced my first relationship and my first breakup, moved to the capital city, and started my first real job. It wasn’t until almost a decade later – aged almost 22, worlds away from that 13-year-old – that I saw her again. It was 6 June, and the opening night ofHarry Potter and the Cursed Child.

I can only describe walking into that theatre as like seeing an estranged friend or relative after years of limited and unsatisfying communication. I was both excited and anxious; after all, neither of us were teenagers any more. What if we’d grown apart? What if we were just different people?

Thankfully, my anxiety was misplaced. The Hermione of Cursed Child was everything I could have wanted. She was a leader; she was a lover; she was a rebel. She was living proof that life does not offer one path, and one destiny, and one outcome, but hundreds of thousands of possibilities just waiting to be explored.

At 21, Hermione Granger showed me that I can be anything. She taught me not only that change is good, but also that a life without it is tedious and stale. She taught me to love fearlessly, even when it comes at a cost. She taught me that nothing is more important than friendship, and loyalty, and bravery, and happiness. And, 16 years after we met for the first time, she is still teaching me some of the most important lessons I will ever learn.

It’s been almost a decade since I last picked up a Harry Potter book for the first time, but I have continued to return to them when I feel sad or lonely or in need of guidance. It feels like falling into the comfortable embrace of my oldest friend. I have many favourite lines from throughout the series, but I always find myself back at that final chapter of Half-Blood Prince, reading Ron and Hermione’s words of assurance for Harry, and knowing that those words will always belong to me, too:

“We’ll be there. We’ll go with you, wherever you’re going.”

parallel

In which Akashi thought that maybe in another universe, he deserved you.

pairing: akashi x reader

genre: angst, romance

words: 2293

a/n: a result of procrastination and the fact that this blog will turn one year old on the 18th! i decided to write this in order to celebrate this baby’s first birthday. i got the plot idea from a conversation i had with my friend during physics class. i haven’t written anything for so long already, but i still hope you guys enjoy this despite the fact that my writing gets crappier and crappier as each day passes by.

Your wrist watch read exactly ‘18:00’ when your coffee was finally served. The aroma tickled your nose as you angrily typed down words into the chatbox you and Kise shared. The wedding was already tomorrow, but he only said that he wouldn’t be able to attend due to the urgent photo shoot for a magazine he couldn’t say ‘no’ to. It was kind of upsetting, yes, but the moment you took a sip of your favorite caramel macchiato, the effect caffeine had on you managed to make you calm down after minutes of cursing Kise.

‘Alright, alright. I understand. But tell me that you’d do your best to at least make it to the reception,’ you sent, sighing as you took another batch of milliliters of your caffeinated drink.

‘Yes, (l/n)cchi! I promise! But I have to go now! See you tomorrow! I hope!’

Keep reading

Just Kiss Already! | Dean x Reader Imagine | Request

beccafgs has given me a new request :) Where Sammy is done with Dean and Y/N’s eyescrewing. So it shall be done…


I quietly groaned as I watched my brother and my friend engaging in their stupid eyesex thing from across the room. Dean was sitting in a chair pretending to be reading a book (Not likely) and Y/N had casually tried to look like she was engrossed in some fashion magazine (Even less likely) while casting longing gazes at each other.

I was so sick of this obnoxious bullshit.

And I think I might not be the only one…


A blush steadily traveled into my cheeks as I glanced at Dean from the couch. Shit, did he see me? I quickly looked away from him when our gazes caught each other accidentally.

But then, in less than a second, my vision went dark.

“What!?” I cried in surprise as I could vaguely feel a hand grip my arm and I went flung into a darkened closet.

Wait, closet?

“OW!” Dean’s sharp bark of pain caught my attention and I instantly looked down in worry.

“Dean, you okay?” I leaned towards the voice but I only caught a small ‘I’m fine’ before I heard Dean furiously banging on the door.

“What the hell is going on!?”

As the green-eyed hunter stopped his attack on the door I could hear a feint laugh from the other side.

“Sam!?” I exclaimed.

His muffled voice came from the outside room, “Alright now you two are going to confess your feelings for each other. Dean, don’t be an ass about it, Y/N, don’t be shy. Sam ‘Thirdwheel’ Winchester is going to the cinema for a few hours. I’ll let you out when I get back”

“Sammy don’t you dare…” Dean growled.

“Ciao!” And I heard the sound of the bunker door slamming shut.

In aggravation Dean slammed his fist on the sturdy door once more, “Dammit!” He shouted.

“Can’t you kick it down?” I asked, trying to back as far away from Dean as possible.

“No… We reinforced the doors, remember?” I cursed that stupid idea we thought of a month back. If I hadn’t suggested it then we wouldn’t be…

Alone… In a dark closet…

That blush was returning again…

“It’s alright… He said that he’d let us out when he get’s back, right? He won’t keep up in here forever” I reassured.

“Yeah… I’m sure you’re right…”


“We’re going to die in here, aren’t we?” I groaned, trying to fan my boiling face to bring some kind of relief to the unbearable heat.

“That bastard turned off the A/C…” My crush murmured.

“No shit Sherlock… I hadn’t noticed…” It felt as though it had been an hour since Sam had abandoned us in this god-forsaken closet and I was beginning to debate the possibility of removing some of my clothing to try and lessen the heat. But of course I thought against it.

Dean, however, did not.

“That’s it, I can’t take it…” And he started shrugging off one of his layers of clothes. When he went to pry the sweaty t-shirt from his chest I had to look away.

“Why does it have to be so hot…” I complained, wiping the beads of sweat that had formed at the small of my neck.

“It feels like that summer we had to hunt down that asshole spirit in Texas. But like… ten times worse…” I was unaware at the annoyed glare Dean was sending towards me.

“I mean, I feel like I just got stranded in some lava… actually lava is sounding pretty nice right about now it’s so ho-” My sentence was cut short by the feeling of a hand wrapping itself around my wrist and my body being slammed against the door.

My eyes went wide when, in the small light provided to me by the crack under the doorway, I could see Dean’s topless self pressing me into the wall.

“If you don’t shut up about how hot it is I’m gonna give you a reason to feel hot…”

My mouth was left agape when he roughly pressed his lips onto mine, pulling away after a few seconds.

“Don’t tell Sammy this… But there might be a slight truth to what he said…”

Getting over my daze I slowly ran a hand through his light brown hair a softly spoke, “Yeah… same here too…”

Just then I felt my body go light and I painfully had to crash onto the floor of the bunker with Dean on top of me. The air dropped from my lungs as nearly 175 pounds fell on top of me.

“Well, I see that my master plan was a success” Sam smirked at the picture he had taken with his phone at the sight of a shirtless Dean crashed on top of me.

-Extended Ending-

“DELETE THAT PHOTO YOU JACKASS!!”

“NO AND YOU’RE NOT GONNA CATCH ME!” Sam shouted as Dean tore through the bunker chasing the vessel of Lucifer.

Wow… Once brothers, always brothers…


I ALMOST TURNED IT INTO SMUT… ALMOST

#IWriteTragediesNotSins

Full Animate interview translation under the Read More

Please tell us about the start of your debut.

That would’ve been the time that I received the chance for an audition.  I was interested in being a model at first, so I’d find the ads while reading magazines and submit my application forms.  But a lot of magazines were being discontinued and the chances to become a male model were growing slim, so my agency began to train me to become an actor instead.  I already had an interest in anime to start, so I embraced the world of 2.5D right away.

Keep reading

lmfao

Lmfao.

So today at work my best friend gave me a WWE magazine to read at lunch. I put it back in her locker when I was done, then went back to work. On my next break, this new girl in the bakery comes over to me and goes “I saw you reading a WWE magazine earlier, do you like wrestling?”

Naturally I was like hell yes. “Yeah I love wrestling!”

And this chick, I shit you not, she says “Oh I do too, we should be best friends!”

Lmfaooo. It was so fucking cute. My best friend sure didn’t think so when I told her about it, she looked absolutely horrified, but it really was funny af.

(I told the girl that I already have a best friend over in the deli but we can still be friends xD)

Daily preferences #50

You were reading some people magazines on the couch, your boyfriend rubbing your thigh as he was watching a movie.

“Can I have your phone for a minute?” He asked but before you had the time to answer he had already unlocked it.

“Sure.” You ironically chuckled.

“What’s my contact name? I can’t find me anywhere!”

“Love.” You told as you were looking straight at each other. Your eyes were exchanging electricity.

“Hm. Gotta change it in something better!” He turned his head back to your phone’s screen as if anything happened.

“Here.” He gave your phone back.

You unlocked it to check his new contact name. “Handsome boyfriend.”

“How modest is that?” You burst out of laughter.

“I don’t care, your contact name in my phone is "Prettiest woman in the world”.“ He confessed and he leant on to kiss your reddened cheek.

Black Nut vs. Maxim October issue

Black Nut, a big fan of Maxim. A cute and innocent soul if you get to know him.

On his glasses, it says, “I didn’t wear this because I was nervous”

Bottom left corner profile:

Black Nut
DOB: January 1st, 1989
Label: Just Music
Interesting facts: Everyone already knows. I’m not lying, they really know.
Instagram: @gaygaykim

From top left to bottom right:

Q: You never did interviews until now. Why did you choose Maxim to be your first interview?
A: I don’t know a lot of magazines. I always read Maxim during my school years in the library and it helped me a lot. Personally, it brings me memories and I heard a lot about the editor’s stories as well so I trusted it and participated.

Q: Then it’s your first time? I heard that it’s your concept to act like you’re nervous. Your acting skills are almost that of Choi Minsik’s.
A: A lot of people might have misconceptions about that, but everyone knows I’m not like that in real life. I’m actually a scaredy cat and an idiot. I just act like I’m crazy on TV to hide that image of me.

Q: You went on stage with sunglasses on and got scolded by Repeating Jint. Did you get over your fears?
A: No, not at all. I learned that eye contact during stage performance is important as well. When I think that “I can enjoy this” I’m going to take it off and perform. Not my pants, my sunglasses.

Q: Different places are probably calling you to perform. Are you making enough money to pay your monthly payments?
A: Even before, I had enough money to pay my monthly payments, but Swings hyung said he would help me, so I take it. I still get about $300 from the company now.

Q: You probably made some money from the songs released. What do you want to do with them?
A: If you saw SMTM you would know - my mom has some debt. My goal is to pay off those first. I want to think about the things after that after I pay off the debt.

Q: Do you read the hate comments or responses? I would want to kill myself if I did.
A: I check all of them.

Q: There are a lot of insults. How do you feel? We get them too so we know.
A: That’s been happening to me since I started doing music, so I don’t really feel anything. Every time I see something like that, I get motivated and make a promise to myself to make them like me as well.

Q: You put your bank account number on your Instagram. Is it real? Do people send you money?
A: Yes, but I think people are wondering if it’s real as well, so they send like 1 cent, 69 cents, or something like that. I actually wanted some random rich guy to send a lot of money there, but nothing like that happened.

Then there are 4 questions about his song ‘Higher Than E-Sens’, how he mentioned Tiger JK and Yoon Mirae in his songs and his song 'Beenzino.’ Maxim asked why he mentions other people in his songs, and he said he just thinks they are the best and he wants to be better than the best. He said that it’s his way of showing respect. (The scanned pics were so bright so I just summarized it into a paragraph lol)

Q: How about the song 'Baechigi’? You said that if you listen to Korean hip-hop, you’re someone who doesn’t have a sense of music?
A: That song’s point is not to diss Baechigi. I’m trying to satirize the sayings like, “Korean hip-hop is shitty. Only foreign hip-hop is the best!” I understand if they are saying that because they are btter than us, but most of the times, it’s useless. The reason I’m getting so heated about this is because I used to be like that. I made that song so that I could judge those stupid people into hip-hop that do not know that well. 

Q: Are you still a virgin?
A: Yes. You wanna see my kakaotalk?

Q: Talk to some girls. I only see guy names.
A: When I see a girl, the first thing I do is get scared. It’s because I’m stupid. I didn’t have a lot of times where I had to interact with a girl.

Q: When I talk to you, I see that you have a very innocent side. So why did you write those lyrics during your MC Deformed days?
A: I usually don’t even get angry and I bottle it in, then I started to spit them out in my lyrics. It was something that I didn’t show to other people… it was like my toilet. Something to relieve my stress?

Q: I argued with my friend about this for about 2 hours once. From the lyrics of your 'Graduation Album’, some people even say that you’re a psychopath, saying that someone that has thoughts like this is dangerous.
A: If I lived like my lyrics, I probably won’t be breathing the same air right now. In the field of arts, people are the most judgemental about music. It’s a shame that people do not do that as much for movies and other arts.

Q: You have a lot of female antis because the lyrics you wrote back then. What do you think of them?
A: I understand, but I don’t really care that much. I hope they likeme for my music one day.

Q: Eminem was similar in the way that he wrote strong and dangerous lyrics at first, then started talking about his story that gave hope to other people after 'Lose Yourself.’ I felt the similarity with your 'Something I can do.’ Is Eminem your role model? Think again, it’s Eminem.
A: I’m sorry, but it’s true. I first started listening to hip-hop because of Eminem. I thought that Eminem was hip-hop back in the days and I thought that I had to write intense lyrics to be hip-hop. Since then, I started admiring his music and what he did. He’s the one that inspired me to be strong and outgoing. I don’t like him as much because he’s changed now, but I still listen to his old songs that he wrote when he lived in that trailer.

Q: You said you were going to release an album. Advertise.
A: I want to talk more about my past. So, I organize the things that I want to say these days and things like that.

The next question is too bright for me to see. LOL

Q: When will the album come out?
A: Before the year ends. Around October? (It’s almost end of October tho.)

Q: Is it almost done? I think a lot of people are waiting for it.
A: The lyrics are finished. I just have to pick the beats and record them.

Q: In your song '100’, there are lyrics like, “Laying you guys down is easier than a nurse with a needle.” There was some controversy about that.
A: That’s because they’re idiots. It’s literally shit talking. Obviously, you would lie down to take a needle. How else would you take it?
There’s a question about Giriboy and Nochang having a lot of female fans and Maxim asks how Black Nut feels about it. Black Nut said that he was upset at first because it’s not like you listen to music with their face. Then, he said that he got some female fans too who liked him for his face and thought that fame brings him fans like that. He said that he has more female fans that like him for his face than Giriboy and Nochang these days. LOL (The part was so bright I couldn’t fully translate).

Q: Do you have any ambitions as an artist?
A: You know you talk about dirty things, girls, or celebs while drinking with your friend, right? When people listen to my music, I want them to feel that I’m just a normal friend to them. I’m not a big person, I’m just one of your close friends, something like that.

Q: I have a lot more to say, but there’s a limit to how big the page is. Do you have anything else to say?
A: When I do this, do they send Maxim to my house every month? I wanted to be subscribed to it, but I don’t have money so.

Q: Just subscribe.
A: Coffee is always Maxim.

Hetalia in my Spiegel.

This was probably posted already but have really no time to scroll through the hetalia tag.

So. Today I finally got to read last Saturday’s Spiegel Magazine during my work break. 

I turn the page and suddenly:


The page is reserved for “six things” this time it shows six tourist guides for Germany.

  • 1. Russian
  • 2. Japanese
  • 3. French
  • 4. Arabian
  • 5. Greek
  • 6 Chinese

You could have chosen any of the many many interesting Japanese guides but you chose hetalia which leads me to believe the Spiegel editorial department was infiltrated.

I am watching you colleagues. I am watching you.