and they are trying so hard not to make out with each other

School Dances - Richie Tozier

Originally posted by agent-69

word count: 4311
warnings: swearing
a/n: yes i know it’s mileven but they’re my babies and it was a good gif so politely fuck off.  also i’m sorry this is a lame title,  and it’s been so long since i’ve posted


[ love is arguing, but not attacking ]

You had your feet up on the couch, using your legs as a makeshift table as you sketched away in your notebook.  Everyone was at Bill’s for a sleepover, and you and him were currently sketching while the others were playing Atari.  You were never one much for video games.

“What do you think?” You asked quietly, leaning over to show Bill your pencil sketch of the quarry you’d all been to countless times.  Bill smiled and nodded.

“I-I like it” He told you, and you went back to your sketching again.

“Thanks-”

“You should draw me sometime sweetheart” You jumped slightly as you spun around, eyes narrowing at the boy leaning over the back of the couch.

“Damnit Richie you almost made me mess it up!” You scolded, but he just grinned before hopping onto the rug between Eddie and Ben.  You rolled your eyes and shook your head.

Yeah, you and Richie were friends.  You were both in the Loser’s Club, and always shared good times and awesome adventures.  Not including the whole Pennywise fiasco last summer.  It was just that he was such a trashmouth, and you were so introverted, that the connection was hard.  So most of the both of your time spent together was either arguing, or really great and fun.

It was 90% arguing.

“y/n? Earth to y/n” You blinked to see Eddie was snapping his fingers in front of your face.

“Sorry what’d you say?” You asked again.

“I asked if you were going to homecoming” He repeated, eyes flicking to the screen momentarily to see Bev’s character dominating over Richie’s.  Richie yelling and whining about how he ‘was the professional here’.

“Thanks Ed but you’re just a friend… I’d rather be asked by someone interested-”

“Oh no no no no no no I didn’t mean it like that y/n I wasn’t asking you ou-”

“You’re asking y/n out?” Richie abandoned his game to glare over at Eddie, but you missed it after being too focused by her drawing.

“Fuck no!” Eddie screeched, now gaining your attention again.  Eddie went on this rant about your friendship and all that, but you just sat there quietly.

Were you really that unideal of a homecoming date? Maybe you didn’t have the body of a senior, maybe you weren’t perfect, but you thought you’d at least suffice.

“I’m gonna get a drink” You muttered, tossing your sketchbook carelessly to the side of the couch.  You stood up without another word, walking to the kitchen and blinking hard so you wouldn’t cry.

“Fuck Tozier” Eddie grumbled.  “You made your girl sad”

“She’s not my girl” Richie replied in a quieter tone, paranoid you could still hear him from the kitchen.

“Ri-Richie you should t-talk to her” Bill said, but Richie shook his head, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“I can’t” He said, feeling as pathetic as he sounded.  Bev rolled her eyes, standing up and going after you.

“You’re a pussy” She called back to him before consoling you quietly in the kitchen.


It was late,even for you, and you had quite the night owl tendencies.  But you didn’t care, preferring to lean over the kitchen counter with your second cup of cocoa as you worked on a sketch.  A different one from before, this one you’ve been adding to for months, and still, it just doesn’t seem perfect.  You didn’t like to share them until they were perfect.

You groaned softly, rubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands.  Your eyes briefly flicking to the little candle you had on the counter, wondering briefly if you should just scrap the whole page.  Then shook your head, not liking the destructive thought.

“y/n?” Your head snapped up, hands propping you at your chin.  “What’re you doing up it’s like… two in the morning” Richie spoke, voice tired and a mumble.

“Was I loud?” You whispered, and he shook his head, messy hair flopping in front of his face.  You watched him pull his glasses from where they were folded to slide into the neck of his shirt, fitting them onto his face and pushing them up his nose.  You found yourself smiling at this, even though it was a simple action.

“No I just… couldn’t sleep” He said lamely with a shrug.  He wandered over to where you stood, peeking down at your notebook.  You pulled it towards you anxiously, flipping the pages so he couldn’t see what you’d been working on.

“Me too” You finally responded, drawing his attention away from the book.  But it didn’t work.

“What’re you drawing?” He asked, and you felt the nervous butterflies fluttering relentlessly in your chest..  Your fingers curled tighter around the pages.  “What? Scared I’m not gonna like my sexy portrait?” He smirked at his own comment and your eyes narrowed.

“Why would I want to show you anyways, you’re just gonna make fun of it” You said, holding it against your chest.  Richie’s smirk pulled into a frown instantly.

“I won’t” He said quickly.

“I don’t believe you” You mumbled back.  His frown deepened.  You set your book back down on the counter, keeping it closed as you reached to drink from your mug.

“y/n… come on… what do you think I’m gonna do?” He tried to keep his voice quiet, soft.

“I dunno…” You murmured out again.  “Make fun of it?”

“I promise I won’t” He responded fast, truly trying to persuade you to show him.  You bit down on your lip, glancing anxiously around before picking up the book again, sliding it over to him.  Richie grinned, his cheek a pink hue illuminated in the candle light.

You wanted to draw that.

He opened up the cover carefully, seeing your name and information printed neatly on the inside cover of it.  He turned the page, and you awaited his reaction to your first sketch.  It was simple, just a night sky.  You remembered how you spent forever shading in the different patches of the sky, and perfecting each point of the little stars you added.  Richie almost reached out to brush his fingers over the perfected crescent moon you’d drawn, but pulled away at the last moment, not wanted to ruin your masterpiece.

“It’s not… it isn’t perfect it was when I was first starting to draw-”

“It’s beautiful” He cut you off.  “And this was when you were an amateur?” Your teeth sunk into your lip again.  “y/n you’re so fucking talented!” He smiled up at you before flipping the page, seeing an arrangement of flower sketches all over it.

“That was uh.. That was practice for something else” You said, fingers wringing together.  Bill was the only one you shared your work with, the both of you critiquing and admiring each other’s pieces.  But this was… this was different.

“They’re nice” He commented quietly, then moved on to another page.  This one was the one he’d briefly saw earlier, of the quarry and it’s sparkling waters, the morning sun giving it this effect.  He smiled, being reminded of countless memories spent there with the Losers.  Another page turn, and this time he paused.

His eyes scanned over your most secreted drawing, the one that’s seemed to take you an eternity, every detail needing to be at absolute perfection.  A slow grinned tugged his lips open, a pearly white smile being flashed your way before back to the notebook.

Inside was a sketch of the whole gang, arms linked over everyone’s shoulder.  Mike, then Stan, Ben, then Eddie, then Richie, Bill, Beverly, and you.  There wasn’t any scenery yet, so far just the basics of each person.  Facial features, clothing, hair.  Richie looked at his own character, his grin in the sketch lopsided, glasses crooked and eyes large.  His hair was even messier than usual and his tee shirt read Loser.  All the shirts had the same logo on it.

“y/n this is so…” He breathed out heavily, for once, not having anything to say.  “It’s fucking amazing, it’s perfect” You blushed deeply and darted your eyes away from his.

“I was going to give it to Bill for Christmas… I mean it’ll probably take me that long anyways and I thought after… last summer it’d be kinda… you know?” You trailed off, not wanting to say the words.  Richie nodded, glancing once more at the page before closing the book.

“I’m really glad you showed me” He said, and you only nodded your head in response, taking the last drink of your cocoa and setting the mug in the sink.

“I should go back to bed” You said, taking the notebook in your arms once more.  Richie opened his mouth, maybe to protest and ask you to stay, or to say he wasn’t tired yet, he wasn’t even sure.  So he sighed inwardly and gave up on finding the right words.

“Yeah, it’s late” He said, and you both trudged on your tiptoes back to the living room where the arrangement of sleeping bags were strewn all over the place.  You looked back at him as you sat down in yours, holding onto your pillow as he settled in again for the night.

“Goodnight” You whispered, and he looked over at you as he took off his glasses and folded them up.

“Night y/n” He replied, and you smiled gently before laying down and getting comfortable.  Richie smiled to himself as well while he laid down and went to sleep.


The next day at school you were all groggy from staying up so late, especially you and Richie.  Which the others commented about numerous times.  But you brushed it off and ignored their ongoings as you put in your locker combination.

“I’m too tired for this” You hummed to Richie, who nodded, eyes shut as his side leaned against the locker next to you.  Only hearing pieces of Eddie yelling at Beverly for her smoking habits.  Not that she cared, but it was funny to get him riled up.

“Oh look! It’s my favorite girl!” Suddenly your locker was slammed shut, and you jumped to see Henry Bowers had wedged himself between your now closed locker and yourself.  You backed up immediately, finding his aroma to be absolutely ghastly.

“Take a shower fuck-bag” Richie groaned

“Fuck off loser, I’m only here for y/n” Henry stroked an oddly gentle hand down your cheek, and you winced with disgust.  “How are ya y/n? I missed school yesterday… did you miss me?” You gagged aloud.

“No Henry, I didn’t miss you” You uttered, yanking your face away from his hand.  “Don’t touch me” You added, hiking the strap of your backpack higher on your shoulder.  Henry smirked, an eyebrow arching tauntingly.

“Come on sweetheart, don’t be that way” He leaned forward to meet your eye level.  “I know all I gotta do is ask you to lift your skirt a little, isn’t that right boys?” Your face fell at the horrible and untrue accusation.  “But that’s alright, it’s nice when they’re easy” His hand was back on you again, toying with the collar of your shirt and trailing over your throat.

“Hey!” Henry was shoved away, toppling to the ground.  “She said not to touch her you fucking pervert!” Your eyes widened at Richie, and your fear only increased as Henry stood up, grabbing the boy by his shoulders and pinning him to the row of lockers.

“You better fucking watch it four eyes!” Henry yelled in his face.  “I’ll fucking gut you-!”

“Mr Bowers?” Richie fell to the floor as Henry dropped him as soon as the scolding voice of a teacher rang in the air, silencing the hall.  “You wouldn’t want a call home would you?”

Henry took off, leaving the Losers alone in the hallway.  Whoever the teacher was, simply turned and walked away as well, not saying another word.

“y/n are you-”

“What the fuck?” You cut off Ben’s almost question as you whipped around to look at RIchie.  “What was that!?” Richie, confused by your sudden burst of anger stood up and scrunched up his eyebrows.

“I’m sorry?” He said sarcastically.  “That asshole had his hands all over you, the disgusting mullet wearing-”

“Well I didn’t need your saving” You said, adjusting your bag, your face fallen as you turned to head away.

“y/n-!” He called but you didn’t even so much as glance over your shoulder.  Just kept on going.  His lips fell to a frown as he looked at his friends, who all seemed confused.

Except Bev, who frowned herself as she shook her head.

“”What’s going on what happened? She.. she’s actually mad at me?”

“No Rich, she’s just embarrassed” The girl said, but his expression didn’t change.

“But she… but I’m…” he sighed, defeated.  His shoulders slumped as he began to walk away as well, wanting to follow after you, but instead heading to class.

He hadn’t meant to hurt you, or offend you.  He was only trying to keep you safe.


Three days passed and you’d done everything you could to avoid Richie, even though you still saw him everywhere.  Walking past your classes, which you were sure was on purpose, in the lunchroom, in your gym class, and you swore that every time you turned your head, he was darting away somewhere.

“n/n? You gonna show me your dresses or not?” Beverly asked you.  You blinked, looking up from where you were sat on the floor against your bed.

“Bev I don’t really wanna go to the dance… do I have to?”

“Of course! Come on it’ll be fun” She said, already opening up your closet to look through your things.

“But… Richie’s gonna be there” You said weakly.  Beverly just laughed, and pulled a dress from your closet.

“This one” She said, and laid a dress off the side of the mattress.  You looked at it for a moment, not remembering having worn it except for your aunt’s wedding.  That seemed so long ago.

Ever since the events last summer, a time before that just seemed like another era altogether.

“Beverly just… no thanks” You mumbled, looking back at her.  She only crossed her arms.

“Come on.  It’s in one hour y/n” She pleaded softly.  “You and I will hang out, and if you want….” She sighed deeply.  “I’ll even make Richie to swear to stay away from you”Your eyes widened a little bit, but she still noticed.  “Even though I don’t even understand why you two are so… I don’t even have the word for it.  Being stupid?”

“I’m ashamed Bev, someone else had to come and save me.  Again.  I’m so sick and-and tired of needing to be rescued!” Your friend frowned.

“Sweetheart, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.  It’s what good friends do, we help each other out.  And quite frankly, Richie was right.  Henry was being a creep, even more than usual.  Of course he was in a jealous and protective rage”

“Jealous?” You repeated in a whisper.

“Well duh, the boy digs you” Beverley brushed it off like it was obvious.  “He was just trying to keep you safe is all.  He wasn’t trying to make you feel like a damsel in distress”

You chewed on your lip, now staring at the dress she’d picked out for you as your thoughts ran wild with this new information.

“Fine” You huffed out after a long period of silence, standing up and snatching the outfit aggressively.


Richie did what he usually did at school events.  Or most events for that matter.  He found a seat, and began counting down the minutes until he could go home.

Did he want to be at the school dance? Not really.  Had his friends pretty much persuaded him to come anyways? Yep.  But there he was, sitting in an uncomfortable plastic chair at a black and white (and pink? What was this fucking valentine’s day?) themed school dance.  His friends all gathered on the gym floor and dancing obnoxiously to some song he hadn’t heard of before.  All the while he just sat and watched.

All Richie could think about was how maybe if he hadn’t been a dumbass, he’d at least be sitting here with your company.  Knowing that you weren’t one much for getting up and dancing in front of your peers.  His night could’ve been filled with fun conversation and the stupid game of pointing out the best and worst outfits of the night.  But he hadn’t even seen you arrive.

And he was pretty sure that you wouldn’t be.

He’d watched the clock till it was ten minutes into the dance. The boredom was weighing down heavier and heavier and soon he was slumped over his seat, his elbow propping his chin up and his glasses sliding down every now and then from slouching.  Eleven minutes.  Twelve.  Thirteen.  Fourt-

Richie nearly jumped out of his seat when the gym doors swung open, this time not revealing one of the chaperones coming in, but you and Beverly.

And wow, you looked perfect.  And Richie thought you looked like an angel on a normal day.  But this was… this was a fucking occasion he should’ve planned for.

She walked in looking nervous, like she felt out of place.  And to him, she was, she blew away any of the other girl’s who even tried tonight.  Her hair was in curls, some of it pinned back behind her head.  Her dress was a pale pink color that fell to her ankles, sleeves that came almost all the way down her arms, and something in him wanted to touch it to see if it felt as soft as it looked.

Richie blinked, eyes growing even wider behind the thick frames.  He wasn’t even sure if she was real.  He watched as Bev pushed on your arm gently, then nodded towards him.  He almost didn’t redirect his gaze before you’d looked to where she pointed.  Luckily, you hadn’t caught him openly staring.

“Damn it” You whispered, hoping to have gone the night without an interaction.  But it was already too late for that.  “Bev let’s go-”

“No way! You promised me you’d at least try” She reminded, and you winced, glancing back over to Richie secretly.

He was staring straight at you, and was completely obvious about it.  He must not have been able to tell that you were looking out of the corner of your eye.  Because he was still staring at you.

Well, you were staring at him too but that was different.  You couldn’t help it.

“He looks beautiful” Was the first thing you said, and Beverly made a weird sound as she turned to see where your eyeline had fallen.  Her brows rose when her sights landed on Richie Tozier.  Moping like a four year old but staring at you like an old lover.

“Beautiful?” She questioned, her surprised face scrunching up with confusion.  You nodded, turning back to face her, a gentle smile on your lips.  He was in a suit, sort of.  It was a dark grey, but the collared shirt underneath it was white, and his tie was black.

You were pretty sure he’d worn it to Georgie’s funeral, minus the tie.

“Yeah” You answered Beverly, who was now grinning ear to ear whilst you blushed at the sight of Richie all dressed up.  “Nice, he looks nice” You stammered out, and Beverly rolled her eyes good naturedly.

“He does.  You should go tell him”

“I don’t think he’d like to speak to me” You whispered, scared he’d hear, even from thirty feet away.  Your fingers began to twirl and intertwine with themselves out of nervousness.

He still hadn’t looked away.

“I beg to differ” Your friend told you.  But before you could ask her why, Bill and Eddie had walked up to the both of you.

“Hey what the hell’s up with mopey McMoperson over there?” Eddie asked, nodding off towards the glasses wearing boy who was now looking fascinated by the floor.  Bev glared at the short boy, a sigh falling from her lips.

“Could we be anymore discreet?” She muttered sarcastically.

“What? I was just wondering if he’s still all hung up over y/n”

Bill smacked his hand against his forehead, and Bev glanced over at you.  Your face had fallen, lips parted, eyes saddened and staring down at your hands, still locked together in a knot.

“n/n I didn’t mean it like tha-”

“I’m just gonna go sit and drink some punch” You cut off Eddie’s apology with a small mumble, and headed off towards the beverage table.  You swiftly poured a plastic cup of punch then made your way to the empty seats along the side of the gym.  Opposite of where Richie had sat himself.

You passed the time watching the girls twirl around in their pretty dresses and fancy hairdos.  Some wearing makeup you were sure they stole from their mothers vanities.  You picked out the dress you liked best, something blue and frilly.  Pretty, but not over the top like some of the others.  After all, it was just a school dance.

“Why aren’t you dancing out there with them?” You looked up to see Richie standing in front of you.  Your mouth opened, but you were in such a shock that no words came out.

“I-I… I don’t know” You said pathetically, mentally slapping yourself for saying something so lame.

“Well do you want to dance with me?” Again, your brows rose as you were thrown for another loop.  What!?  “I know I’m not ideal” Richie continued.  “But pretty girls shouldn’t sit through an entire dance and watch everyone else” A small smile pulled on your lips at the compliment, and you nodded your head slowly, and he reached his hand out to you.  You took it, ducking your head down so that your blush wouldn’t be seen.

“Thanks” Was all you managed to say.  Your eyes still glued to the gym floors, not realizing he was staring directly at you, with a soft intensity.

“I’ve missed you” He blurted, without thinking, as he always did.  But this was different.  You looked up at him, eyes round as a doe’s, a look of pure innocence and curiosity held in them.  “I’ve missed you a lot” He continued.  “I’ve missed talking to you and messing with you and seeing you draw and even just seeing you in the hallway”

While what he was saying was true, he couldn’t stop speaking.  And he began to freak that this would lead him somewhere ugly, telling you all this.  But at the same time… he didn’t care.

“And after… after all that shit with Pennywise and you and I… we… we got closer and I really fucking loved that because let’s face it! You’re great!” Your lips felt sewn shut, though they had dropped open just slightly.  “ANd you get shit and I don’t… I don’t get it! You get shit from your parents because they think you aren’t good enough but y/n you’re fucking perfect and if you ever believe otherwise I’ll… well I’ll off myself! It’d be the end of the world!”

“Rich…” You said softly, hoping he’d quiet down seeing that other dancing students were now watching this scene unfold.

“No I-! I don’t care! Let them watch I don’t care!” He looked around at all the prying eyes, most of them shooting to look away before being caught.  “And y/n I’m sorry, I’m sorry for what I did, and I swear I only did it because I… well I wanted to protect you” He sighed, defeated, and finally quieting down a little bit.  “And I know you don’t need my protection… hell you barely even need me but dammit I need you

Your eyes widened impossibly further, surprised by this confession.  You sniffled, your hands around his neck tightening a little, pulling yourselves closer together.

“Look I… I’ve never done this before, I’ve never even felt this way before but you… you just make it seem natural.  Like I’ve been doing this for ages” Your eyes, wet with tears, crinkled up as a smile tugged your lips upwards.

“Richie you-” Your quiet voice was cut off again.


“y/n I think I’m in love with you” He said, head ducking down so it was ensured only your ears would hear it.  Your noses nearly touched, your head tilted back to properly meet his eyes.  You sniffled again, quickly rubbing your fist under your eyes to stop the tears from falling before holding onto him again.

“Richie” You said, voice weak with a wet laughter.  Cheeks rosy pink with a bashful blush.  “You’re the sweetest trashmouth I know” You whispered.  He smiled lopsidedly, one of his hands on your waist raising to tuck a loose strand of  hair out of your eyes and behind your ear.

“And you are a beautiful stubborn angel” He replied.  You blinked, licking over your lips and biting your cheek to keep from smiling too much.  WIth that, he leaned into you, you barely standing onto the tips of your toes to meet his lips in a soft kiss.

You’d been kissed before, by your parents, a fleeting boyfriend once a long time ago, but this felt so, so different.

Perfect, right.

And when you parted, eyes wide for a moment out of the shock it left you in, Richie smiled at you, leaning his forehead down against yours.

“I think I’m falling in love with you too, Richie Tozier” You mumbled, eyes fluttering shut as you swayed softly to the music with him.

He just smiled with delight, staying silent.

It was comfortable to be silent with you there.



k but in real life he’d be runnin’ his mouth about how hot you are and how much he wants to shove his tongue down your throat, but let’s be real, he’d still be a sweetie

xoxo ~ jordie

First Kiss

what up bitches i’m still here postin cockles

based on this terrible nonsense

[ao3]

When Jensen agreed to go out to dinner with Misha, he wrongly assumed that Misha was a normal person. Despite everything Jensen’s seen of Misha - from the bizarre sweaters to the poetry written on napkins and then promptly thrown into the trash at the end of lunch some days - since he met him a couple months ago, he for some reason believed Misha would pick a regular restaurant for them to go out to eat.

As soon as they walked in though, Jensen thought, of course, and wondered how he could’ve ever believed Misha would take him somewhere that doesn’t have succulents planted directly into the bar counter.

“So, uh, have you been here before?” Jensen asks as they sit in clear plastic chairs across from each other.

“Nope,” Misha answers easily. “I’ve been meaning to try it.” He starts to open the menu in front of him but then closes it without even looking at it. He folds his arms over the table and looks intently at Jensen. “You’re more of a steak and potatoes guy, aren’t you?”

Jensen huffs a laugh and doesn’t look up from his menu. So far, he hasn’t recognized a single fucking dish on here. “That’s an easy assumption, I took you to a steakhouse last week.”

“And I enjoyed it immensely.”

Jensen lifts his eyes just enough to see Misha smiling at him. His own smile makes its way to his face as he turns his attention back to the menu. He doesn’t really know what he and Misha are doing exactly. They keep…asking each other out, he supposes. They’re building a friendship, but it’s not going the same way as Jensen’s other friendships. He’s used to sitting next to each other drinking beer at a bar, playing video games at home in the middle of an afternoon - not smiling at each other across the table at a fancy New Age restaurant.

As Jensen is deep in thought and not actually reading anything on the menu, the server comes up and greets them. She asks for their drink order, and Misha snatches the menu right out of Jensen’s hands.

Jensen blinks up at Misha, confused, then watches as he hands both closed menus to the server and says, “We’ll have the three least ordered items on the menu. And bring us whatever the bartender’s favorite drink is.”

Keep reading

the art of chasing ♔ billy hargrove [two]

concept: steve has a female best friend and billy has taken it upon himself to flirt with her just to piss steve off. that’s it. that’s the plot. [vol. 2]

a/n: holy moly, i did not expect so much feedback for this! i’m totally blown away by the response the first part got so soon and i’m so happy you guys are enjoying this so far, thank you for all the positivity! here is part two my lovelies xoxo

[part one]


kids were laughing in my classes

while i was scheming for the masses.

who do you think you are

dreamin’ ‘bout bein’ a big star?

#3

Annie was starting to see a pattern.

Ever since Billy gave her the orange at lunch she’d been keeping an eye on him. It surprised her just how true Steve’s words had been – “He’s fucking everywhere,” – because, really, Billy Hargrove was everywhere.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Why do you think the Projectionist is off everyone’s list? Alice calls him an old friend and obviously makes it an effort not to go down there (or leave her area in general), Sammy doesn’t roam down there either and even Bendy were to- Don’t think Norman would even flinch.

Honestly, anon? I mean like, there’s implied areas set up for each character in-game, and we don’t necessarily know what Sammy never went down there, nor Alice. There’s no offered up explanation for why Bendy avoids Level 14 during the time you’re down there, either. Maybe Norman pre-The Projectionist was just a generally good guy. Maybe he’s not worth anyone’s time because he doesn’t appear to be intelligent anymore and he keeps mostly to the Inky Abyss.

But like honestly?

Norman is fucking scary.

Alice clearly has no problem fucking with the other denizens of JDS (she’ll even mess with Bendy but not Norman), Bendy seems to care about no one at all, and I think Sammy would probably sacrifice anyone he get his slimy little hands on. I genuinely just think that no one wants to fuck with Norman. Below the cut are some thoughts about Norman, Level 14, and way too much research into projectors in the 1930s and beyond.

Keep reading

In the wake of all sorts of role-player related ups and downs lately, I’d like to take a moment to remind people of a couple of things that I have learned during all this time I have been a role-player. Please keep in mind that these come from my experiences alone, and they certainly aren’t enforced rules. Just things that might help others who are trying to get into the RP community.

1.) Communication is KEY. If you take anything away from this text post, let it be this. 

Not feeling an RP? Say something. Something come up and you can’t make a scheduled RP that you have set up with someone? Say something! Need a break? Say something! One of the literal worst feelings when being in an RP situation and not knowing what’s going on with the other person, especially when it comes to long gaps of time where nothing happens…or maybe someone’s just focusing on another alt. Silence and lack of communication is a breeding ground for uncertainty, assumption, jealousy and frustration.

2.) Real life comes first. Always. 

There should be no guilt being given or received for needing to sleep or rest, or to take care of one’s family or friends. Even just the need to be away from the computer or gaming systems. Real life ALWAYS comes first.

3.) Set engagement expectations early. 

Some people play one character and are looking for constant engagement with that character. Some people spend time across a number of alts and may favor a few of them more than the rest. Some people can only RP once or twice a week due to schedules. Make sure people involved understand availability.

4.) Roleplay should NEVER be forced.

If you are logging on and role-playing feels like a chore? Something is wrong and you need to think long and hard about what that is. Maybe it’s a lack of story, or you aren’t getting particular types of RP out of the current set-up you have. Maybe it’s time to move on to another game for a new, fresh start. Try to address this as soon as you start feeling it.

5.) There are good and bad kinds of drama.

Is there some juicy story drama happening during an arc? Romance? Tension? Action? This is the good kind of drama. In Character drama can be healthy and fun (again, so long as there is communication).

Are players treating each other with disrespect? Games of he-said she-said about players? Discrimination? Name-calling? Avoidance or alienation? Now we have some problems. 

Identify drama early. Address it before it becomes a wildfire. 


To reiterate, a lot of what was said above are things that I have experienced, and situations that might help others. There’s certainly no guidebook or laws set in stone regarding RP engagement, but maybe some of the things I have learned (both positive and negative) can help others enjoy this wonderful hobby.

If you have any other helpful tips and tricks when it comes to RP, speak up! I certainly love to read helpful ideas and experiences. Sharing wisdom can only help!

Despite working on this for days and editing it multiple times, this still feels more like me thinking out loud than having me having complete thoughts. It’s at the point where I feel comfortable sharing it, and people have been asking me if and when I would say something, so here it is.

Where do we go from here?

My goal with this account has always been to share timely, relevant information about the band Brand New, because we all know they aren’t going to share it themselves. I’ve worked hard to connect people with the information they’re looking for about the band, whether it’s about tickets, vinyl, merchandise, photos, setlists, etc. I feel a sense of responsibility with that. People follow me for that, so I want to provide it the best I can.

But right now, I’m in a weird place. And before I talk about myself, I need to say that my deepest sympathy goes out to the victims in this story. I am sorry to see that so many people don’t believe you. I hope that by speaking out, you are able to heal. The fans of this band are not the victims, we are bystanders in someone else’s tragedy. That’s something I’ve kept in mind. But since I’ve made informing and bringing fans together a hobby of mine, I feel like I should speak to it. The title of the account is Brand New fans, but I am just me, one Brand New fan. (And even that is something I’m struggling with right now.) It has never been my intention to speak for all of the fans, and based on my interactions over the past few days, it’s very clear that I absolutely do not.

I have always liked knowing that a lot of the tweets I send make people happy. (More on that later.) But right now there’s not much to be happy about. The thing I’m asking myself is what should the role of a fan account be at a time like this? It certainly doesn’t feel right to just ignore this situation. If I just never tweeted about this, I’m sure I’d be accused of trying to hide it. I knew I had to acknowledge it when it first broke. And since then, I posted a few tweets with info about the shows; Martha pulled out, Kevin pulled out, then they were postponed. And since then I’ve retweeted Jesse’s statement, Kevin’s statement, Sainthood Reps tweet about it, plus a few articles about all of this…and one plea from me to the Reddit Detective Crew. Things feel upside down when the band’s fan account is exclusively tweeting about the awful things one band member did. Some people have said I’ve handled this well, and many others disagree.

Twitter is a great way to disseminate information quickly. It is a horrible place to have a tough, honest, nuanced discussion about men and power, idol worship, sexual assault, justice, forgiveness, rehabilitation, or really anything at all, even with 280 characters. Instead, the conversations that are happening aren’t helpful and don’t go anywhere. So I’m not sure where to go from here.

Is it my obligation to continue to share relevant information, even when it’s all terrible? Should I share every article written about this? Is there such thing as too much? Should I do more? What would that even look like? Or…should I just never tweet again? That seems appealing right now, and my most likely course of action. I’m just feeling drained from all of this just based on my personal feelings, and then it’s harder because I’m trying to find the right path forward with this account. I’m not sure I can support the band that I’ve called my favorite for half of my life anymore. The whole thing makes me want to just shut down. The detective work makes me angry. Getting yelled at on Twitter makes me really sad. And that’s a huge shift from how things used to be.

My favorite thing about running this account has been the feeling of shared joy. Whenever someone tweets me something exciting - following the Science Fiction rollout, a setlist they grabbed, vinyl they bought before it sold out, getting a new tattoo, and recently it’s been photos from shows with captions like “best night of my life!” - I feel that excitement when I hit retweet. It makes me so happy to see others so happy, even strangers, especially about the thing I know we share a common love for. There are a whole bunch of you who I don’t really know but I feel like I know through our interactions, and that gives me a warm feeling of kinship. But now that’s been flipped around. Everyone is upset and trying to deal with this, and that’s made me even more upset. So where I used to feel your joy, now I am feeling your pain. I’m trying to come to terms with this as an individual, and also as a person who people in this community look to for information. I am certainly not looking for pity; I’m just trying to be open about some of the things that I’ve been thinking about this past week and letting everyone know not to expect this account to continue being what it used to be.

I would much rather be tweeting your show photos and poster art and setlists.

I don’t think there will ever be another chance to do that.

Thank you for reading.

Be kind to each other.

Leave the victims alone.

Never stop fighting off your demons.

(Too. Petty. Meet Petty and Petty, the European Petty couple.)

* You can IMMINENTLY tell when it’s one of ‘those’ days. At first, it’s very subtle, not so much flirting, more sharper remarks and tense smiles.

* If it’s a battle day, HOLY SHIT. Nothing get’s done, because they are too busy trying to out wit each others passive-aggressive insults, ranging from their mothers, all the way to their ethical background. Unsurprisingly, the team loses and now everyone is pissed.

* It finally ends with them both meeting in Spy’s room, eyes hard and cold… as they silently hand each other rare wine bottles with a fancy ribbon, and Spy probably has a box of decadent choclates. 
* Annnnnd they go straight to make-up make-out, without ever really verbal saying, ‘Sorry.’ They let their mounths do the talking.

*Also, this happens all within a span of 24 hours.

anonymous asked:

I have a lot of traits associated with autism, but not autism itself. I don't have any of the defining characteristics described in the diagnostic criteria, but if I were a fictional character I would be autism-coded. I have stereotypically autistic body language/behavior, I have various sensory processing issues, and I have some other stuff that I haven't fully worked out yet in my mind so I can't explain it here. I don't really know what my question is, but any input would be helpful

Hey, I’m the anon that has things associated with autism, but not autism itself. I just wanted to clarify that I’m trying to figure out what my neurodivergencies are. I didn’t make that clear in my original ask.

Without more specific examples of autistic traits you have, it’s hard for us to say what other neurodivergencies may be at play. For instance, autistic body language/behavior covers a wide range of behaviors, each of which may be associated with different neurodivergencies. 

-Sabrina

i say “straight cis men are spoiled, that’s all. spoiled brats.”

my father bristles. “oh, so i can say the reverse of that? how would you feel if i called your entire gender something like that?”

like what? like bitch? like hysterical? like keep your voice down, don’t get crazy, don’t be one of those girls, come on, just say yes to me. like what? like needy, like over-emotional, like high maintenance? 

i say, “i know what it feels like.”

he says, “men just want things and you’re pretending being denied those things doesn’t hurt.”

oh i know it hurts. but when i hurt, i hurt myself. i cut into the lip of my body and rip out all the good things. when i hurt, i blame myself. when boys around me hurt, they hurt me. come at me with fists and knives and screaming. trap me on trains while they shout names at me. lock me in the car when i try to leave. hold me down and ignore the begging.

i say, “it does. but, while women can be toxic and abusive, i find that denying a man something is like telling a spoiled child they can’t have a toy for being good.”

on my tongue are stories that don’t seem to break the pattern. stories i know other women have. men who wanted me because i was nice to them, men who wanted me because they were nice to me, men who turned equally quickly into beasts, howling about their lacking, how i owed them, how they could take advantage of me, how, like bread and water, they were starved of me. of course i should give in, how dare i let them go hungry, how selfish it was of me. 

my father says, “when. there are tons of perfectly fine men and just as many bad women. you’ve worked in retail. you’ve complained about them.”

oh, yes. i’ve had my humanity dragged through the dirt by that-kind-of-haircut, by “speak to your manager”, by still-in-the-store-an-hour-after-closing. i’ve been screamed at and serenaded by swear words. i’ve had women look like they were about to pop a blood vessel. 

none of those women ever followed me to a car. none of those women ever wrote down my name just to find me on facebook. none of those women ever followed me home, sniffed at my neck, told me how pretty i’d look naked. oh, i’m sure they wanted to kill me. but they didn’t make it about how much they’d debase me. it was a clean threat, a cold knife. 

it’s a hard thing to explain. that i knew if these women went for me, it wasn’t because of my gender, and that made those threats differ. the same way that if they had been threatening me for being gay, it would have been scary. i was just in the wrong place when they hated me. they didn’t hate me because of my identity.

i clear my throat. “a spoiled woman wants what i’m not giving her, sure. but i can usually calm her down by helping and understanding. and we’re talking about the difference between being denied an object and being denied access to my body.”

my father snorts. “i think you’re blowing this out of proportion.” 

there’s an entire group of men on reddit that we’ve just come to accept as thinking of women as objects. it’s not a small group, either, but what are you going to do. they write each other novels about how women are all animals who need to be controlled, how they’re “involuntarily celibate”, that we’ve denied them all. and how somehow, that denial is our fault. there’s been murders because men were mad they couldn’t have women. mass murders. serial murders. and so many of them were straight violence: not for the intention of killing, but of dragging out the sorrow of it. did you know rape isn’t about sex, it’s about power.

my mouth hurts. i tell him, “you should see how they act when you’re in a position of power above them.” 

how they are when they find out a hispanic female got the job. how they are when it’s me, and i’m not even five foot three, and they know they can intimidate me. how it is when they raise voices over me, and sit on my desk, and come into my room without asking, and ask who i blew in order to get here, and ask to see my resume because obviously i was given the job for diversity and not my three years experience, and ask if i’d be their office affair, and stretch themselves to expand, like a balloon, filling, filling. how their voices pop, “stole my job,” “affirmative action is reverse racism,” “i’m going to bend her over one of these days and show her who’s boss.”

my father shrugs. “if it bothers you so much, stop listening to them.”

in three days from this conversation, one of my friends will text me that a guy pulled a knife on her in a bar because she said no. in two days from this conversation, i will have someone pull up my skirt. on the day of this conversation, three of my friends and i will get wine drunk and cackle over white boys texting and their dick pics and demands for love. when they say things like “you’re a slut and i fucking hate you and i hope you die” when she says no, we laugh. when my skirt comes up, i laugh. when my friend is at knifepoint, she laughs.

did you know laughter is a fear response. 

to my father i say, “just watch. watch what happens when a woman says no.”

he shakes his head. “god, where do you even get this stuff?”

i want to live in a world where i got this from nowhere. where it’s just a figment. where i’ve never met men in the wild, only read about them, and their hands, and their ability to take things from me without feeling sorry. i want to live in a world where other women are confused about the accusations, haven’t experienced the same thing, or haven’t heard the same thing from the women close to them. i want to live in a world where it’s fake, because they treat us like it’s fake; instead of living where it’s this giant open secret like a blood boil, pulsing, a shush of things we’ve learned to answer with laughing, a big burn mark we’ve all been through but is somehow not counted as scarring. i want to live in a world where i’m making up my experiences for want of them; where i’ve never been kissed or touched or groped without my permission, where i don’t fear trains and enclosed spaces. the world i see so many men live in; where it might be a concern on their periphery, but not enough to warrant attention.

“you’d see it too,” i say through his words, “if you just stopped and listened.”

Everyone Lived.

Everyone lived. When Harry was born, Lily hardly saw him because Sirius was fitting him into a tiny leather jacket, Remus was reading to him, and James was already trying to sneak him to the Quidditch supply store to get Harry his first toy broom. Christmases were spent with full bellies and rooms stuffed with laughter, and there wasn’t a single person without flushed cheeks from all the wine. Lily’s eyes sparkled, and there was always a joke on the tip of James’ tongue. All Harry knew was love, love, love, from every corner of the universe.

Everyone lived, and every Thursday afternoon, Sirius and Remus took Harry to the “library”, which was the secret word they taught him for the ice cream parlor. With each trip, they ordered the biggest sundae that was offered with three spoons, and Harry always ate nearly all of it. They kept it up until the day Harry asked Lily to take him to the library and, when confronted with the shelves piled high with books, he asked her where they went to order their ice cream.

Remus and Sirius got married when Harry was three, and Harry was the ring bearer. Lily cried the first time she saw him in his tiny dress robes. They were just long enough that he nearly tripped halfway up the aisle. There wasn’t a single pair of dry of eyes in the audience that day.

Everyone lived, and on Harry’s sixth birthday, he celebrated alongside Neville with all their friends and family. James gave Harry his first set of toy Quidditch balls. He, Ron, Neville, Draco, and Ginny all played together until Draco pushed Neville off his broom and into the cake Alice had spent hours working on. Lily tried so hard not to laugh at Neville’s frosting-covered face, but instead she went beet red and gave herself away to everyone.

Draco said he was sorry. He actually meant it.

Everyone lived, and the moms had a Lockhart book club, which consisted of everyone getting wine-drunk and complaining about their husbands together. Draco, Neville, Harry and Ron eavesdropped and reported back to their dads, who were standing around the kitchen armed with beer, about what they did wrong that week. Each of the meetings somehow coincidentally ended with each of the men stopping by to bring their respective wives bouquets of flowers or boxes of chocolate “because they just felt like it.”

Everyone lived, and Draco and Harry were friends, believe it or not. When Narcissa and Lucius had a date night, they dropped Draco off at the Potters. James told them scary stories in the darkness of their blanket tent. Lily used magic to cast shadows all over their living room, and Harry and Draco wouldn’t sleep for the rest of the night. But Lily kissed each of their foreheads and assured them each that everything would be fine, because she and James would never let anything bad happen to either of them.

She meant it.

Draco and Harry stayed up until their eyelids were simply too heavy to bear, but Harry managed to remain awake till Draco was completely asleep before closing his eyes. It was one of the most peaceful things he’d ever seen. He wasn’t exactly sure why he thought that. Not yet, anyways.

Everyone lived. Everyone got a little bit older. The kids all went off to Hogwarts, somehow managing to stuff themselves all into one train compartment, even with Hermione once she joined. Draco and Harry got put into different houses, which was a relief to everyone around them. “they already bickered like a married couple without rooming together,” Ron said when they were first sorted, “I don’t want to think about what we’d have to deal with if they were sharing a dorm.”

The only time Harry and Draco forgot about their friendship was when they played against each other in Quidditch. There were no rules when you needed to be the first one to the snitch.

(I suppose there weren’t any rules when it came to making out with your best friend in an empty corridor after drinking half a bottle of fire whiskey, either.)

Sixth year came with sly glances and brushing fingertips in the hallway; throwing all caution to the wind and risking friendship for feelings Harry and Draco had been denying since they were kids. Ron and Hermione exchanged knowing looks, but no one said a word. Not even when Harry inconspicuously crept out of bed nearly every night at half past two with his Invisibility cloak in tow, not returning until the sun was just peeking out over the mountains, if at all. He looked happier than ever that year, secrets tugging on the corners of his mouth every time he spoke.

Everyone lived, and when Draco and Harry came out to their families their seventh year, everyone groaned. “You owe me ten Galleons,” was the first thing James said to Lucius, and Harry knew then that everything was going to be okay.

Because everyone was here, surrounding him, breathing, alive. They all hugged him and Draco at once, cheeks smooshed together, a mess of laughter and “I love you’s” and kisses on foreheads. They were all connected then, their pulses stitching them together with a bond Harry knew nothing could break.

They all knew hurt; they knew pain and suffering, and they knew loss, but most of all, they knew each other. They knew love, and they knew hope.

As they stood there, a giant amoeba of people from all walks of life, some more challenging than others, Harry let go of the breath he felt as though he had been holding for his entire life.

Tom and Lin-Manuel: An Appreciation/Jealous Rant

Every writer has a golden period – a chunk of time when her brain is ripest, when the veins he is tapping are the richest, when the ideas, big and small, spill out over the sides of the bucket instead of having to be patiently collected like drops of rain off a leaf. This is true for songwriters, playwrights, novelists, screenwriters, anyone who writes anything in any genre. Go look at John Hughes’s IMDb page and marvel at his golden period, which I would bookend as 1983-1990. It’s outrageous. He wrote Vacation, Mr. Mom, Sixteen Candles, The Breakfast Club, Weird Science, Pretty in Pink, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, Some Kind of Wonderful, Planes, Trains, and Automobiles, Uncle Buck, and Home Alone in eight years. Eight years?! That’s absurd.

But then look at his next 20 years. You won’t find one movie that is better than the worst one he wrote in those seven years. The vein ran dry. It always does. That’s just the deal.

Tom Petty’s golden period never ended. Or, at least, the silver periods on either side of his golden period were seemingly infinite. No matter where you think he peaked – Full Moon Fever, or Wildflowers, or Damn the Torpedoes – the decades on either side were wonderful. He was great from the moment he released his first album in 1977 to the day he died last month. For forty years he wrote, and wrote, and wrote, and the songs he wrote were good or great or amazing.

Tom Petty wrote “Breakdown” and “American Girl” in 1977. He wrote “You Don’t Know How it Feels” seventeen years later, in 1994. He wrote “You Got Lucky” in 1982, “King’s Highway” in 1992, “The Last DJ” in 2002. He wrote “I Won’t Back Down,” “Runnin’ Down a Dream,” Free Fallin’,” “Love is a Long Road,” “A Face in the Crowd,” Yer So Bad,” and “The Apartment Song,” and “Depending on You,” all in 1989, and they were all on the same album, and that’s absurd.

He wrote “Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around” in 1981 and “Big Weekend” in 2006. He wrote every song on Wildflowers – and they are all great – in or around 1994. He wrote fifty other great songs I haven’t named yet, like “Don’t Come Around Here No More” and “Jammin Me.” He wrote great songs you’ve heard a million times, and great songs you’ve maybe never heard, like “Billy the Kid” (1999) and “Walls” (1996) which was buried on the soundtrack to She’s the One.  He took a break from the Heartbreakers and casually released “End of the Line” and “Handle With Care” and “She’s My Baby” with the Traveling Wilburys in 1989-90. He wrote “Refugee” in 1980 and “I Should Have Known It” in 2010. Is there any rock and roll songwriter alive who wrote two songs that good, 30 years apart? (Paul McCartney wrote “Hey Jude” in 1968, and only 12 years later he wrote “Wonderful Christmas Time,” which is so bad it nearly retroactively undid “Hey Jude.”)

He wrote about rock and roll things, like ’62 Cadillacs, getting out of this town, and dancing with Mary Jane. He wrote about love and loss and heartbreak. He wrote legitimately funny jokes, and moribund memories, and personal narratives, and imaginative flights of fancy. One of his characters calls his father his “old man” and it somehow isn’t cheesy. He was from Florida and California and wrote about both of them, and every time I’m on Ventura Boulevard I think of vampires, because the images he wrote are indelible. 

Petty didn’t just write songs directed at women, like most rock stars. He wrote about women, and he wrote for women, and he wrote with women. He treated the women in his songs as lovingly and respectfully as he treated the men. He cared about them as much, he spent as much time thinking about them, and he liked them as much, and all of that is rare.

He wrote simply, but not boringly. He made his characters three-dimensional, somehow, in a matter of seconds. There’s a famous (probably apocryphal) story about Hemingway bragging he could write an entire novel in six words, then writing: “For sale: baby shoes, never worn.” I prefer the 18-word novel Petty wrote as the first verse to “Down South” –

Headed back down south
Gonna see my daddy’s mistress
Gonna buy back her forgiveness
Pay off every witness

When I was working on Parks and Recreation, whenever we needed a song to score an important moment in Leslie Knope’s life, we chose a Tom Petty song. It started with “American Girl,” when her biggest career project came to fruition. It was “Wildflowers” when she said goodbye to her best friend. It was “End of the Line” at the moment the show ended. For the seven seasons of our show, Tom Petty was the writer we trusted to explain how our main character was feeling, because he wrote so much, so well, for so long.

*******

It seems like a joke, Hamilton – a joke in a TV show where one of the characters is a struggling New York actor, and is always dragging his friends to his terrible plays. Like Joey in Friends. There’s an episode of Friends where Joey is in a terrible musical called like Freud!, about Sigmund Freud, and you get to see some of it, and it’s predictably terrible. Freud! the musical is arguably a better idea than Hamilton the musical.

I’m far from the first person to say this – I’m probably somewhere around the millionth person to write about Hamilton, and the maybe 500,000th to make this particular point, but it needs to be said – a hip-hop Broadway musical about the founding fathers is an astoundingly terrible idea. Lin-Manuel Miranda should never have written it. As soon as he started to write it, he should’ve said to himself, “What the fuck am I doing?!” and stopped. And after he got halfway through, he should’ve junked it, gotten really drunk, and moved on with his life, and made his wife and friends swear to never mention the weird six months where he was trying to write a hip-hop musical about Alexander Hamilton. I literally guarantee you that when Lin-Manuel Miranda first told his friends what he was writing, every one of them reacted with at best a frozen smile, and at worst a horrified recoiling. Some of them might have been outwardly encouraging – “sounds awesome bud! Go get ‘em!” But then later, alone, they would call each other and say What the fuck is he doing?

There is a moment, in Hamilton, when what you are watching overwhelms you. (It’s not the same moment for everyone, but most everyone has one, I suspect.) It’s the moment when the enormity, the complexity, the meaning of it, the entirety of it, overpowers you, and you realize that what you are experiencing is new – new both in your specific life, and new, like, on Earth.  The first time I saw it, that moment was a line in the middle of “Yorktown.” Hamilton sang the line And so the American experiment begins / With my friends all scattered to the winds, and I burst into tears in a way I hadn’t since I was 10 and a baseball went through a guy’s legs in the World Series. Something about how casually he says that – And so the American experiment begins – just settled over me, like a collapsing tent, and this thing I was watching wasn’t in front of me, it was everywhere around me, and it was exhilarating and transformative.

(If I could put this part in a footnote, I would, but I don’t know how to, so: I should mention that I am very far from a musical theater aficionado. I have seen maybe eight musicals in my life. Not only did I not expect to cry, hard, during Hamilton, I did not expect to enjoy it. I saw it like a week after it opened on Broadway, kind of on a whim, knew nothing about it, and the last thing I said to my wife, as the lights went down, was: “We’ll leave at intermission.”)

The second time I saw it, that moment came much earlier (I knew what I was getting into, this time, so I was more ready to be subsumed). It came barely three minutes in, when the entire cast of the show, in a piece of choreography that can best be referred to as “badass,” all walk down to the very front of the stage and stand, shoulder to shoulder, and sing very loudly about how Alexander Hamilton never learned to take his time. The cast has, to this point, trickled on stage, slowly, one by one, telling you Hamilton’s origin story, and then suddenly there they all are, all of them – maybe 20? 50? It seems like 1000? – as close to the audience as they can get, and they are every size and ethnicity and gender, and their voices are loud, and I thought to myself, oh my God, this is a cast of people descended from every nation on Earth, all singing about the foundations of the American experience, and yes I “knew” that, intellectually, but holy shit, now that I see them all, I know it, like in my stomach, I understand it, and what a thing that is.

The third time I saw Hamilton, that moment was during “It’s Quiet Uptown,” when this enormous, sprawling, improbable, otherworldly, multi-ethnic, historical, art tornado presses pause on all of its historical-cultural-ethno-sociological-artistic investigations, and spends four and a half spare minutes with a couple who are grieving an unimaginable tragedy.  Specifically, it was the lines

Forgiveness
Can you imagine?
Forgiveness
Can you imagine?

What a thing to do, for your characters – to give them four and a half minutes in the middle of an enormous, sprawling, historical swirl, to just be sad. What a piece of writing that is.

(Again, should be a footnote, but: as long as I’m talking about writers here, I should point out that if the late Harris Wittels were alive, he would, at this moment, text me and hit me with a “humblebrag” for writing about how I have seen Hamilton three times, and he would be right. Miss you Harris!)

In the hundreds of hours of my life I have spent thinking about Hamilton since I first saw it – far more hours than any other single piece of art I have ever experienced – I have revisited that same thought over and over: he never should’ve written it. It was an absurd thing to do. It took him a year to write the title song, then another year to write the second song, and how did he not give up when two years had gone by and he’d written two songs?  He must’ve known in his heart it needed to be a 50-song, 2 ½-hour enterprise, and he had two songs after two years, and he kept going. How did he keep going? I’ve been trying to write this blog post about two writers I admire for different reasons since the week Tom Petty died, and I’ve almost given up five times.

At this point, the entire musical is that “moment” for me. It’s the whole thing, now – the thing that overwhelms me is the whole thing. The conception of it, the writing of it, the rewriting of it. The music and the motifs and the themes and the threads and the dramatic shape and the characters and their inner lives, and the eagle-eye writer’s view it took to keep all of that in his head, all of it, the whole time. The writing of it. The utterly impossible writing of it. 

If You’re Too Busy For These 5 Things: Your Life Is More Off-Course Than You Think

Originally posted by teapotsandroses

Despite turbulence and other conditions keeping airplanes off-course 90 percent of flight time, most flights arrive in the correct destination at the intended time.

The reason for this phenomenon is quite simple — through air traffic control and the inertial guidance system, pilots are constantly course correcting. When immediately addressed, these course corrections are not hard to manage. When these course corrections don’t regularly happen, catastrophe can result.
For example, in 1979, a passenger jet with 257 people on board left New Zealand for a sight seeing flight to Antarctica and back. However, the pilots were unaware that someone had altered the flight coordinates by a measly two degrees, putting them 28 miles east of where they assumed to be.

Approaching Antarctica, the pilots descended to give the passengers a view of the brilliant landscapes. Sadly, the incorrect coordinates had placed them directly in the path of the active volcano, Mount Erebus.

The snow on the volcano blended with the clouds above, deceiving the pilots into thinking they were flying above flat ground. When the instruments sounded a warning of the quickly rising ground, it was too late. The plane crashed into the volcano killing everyone on board.

An error of only a few degrees brought about an enormous tragedy.

Small things — if not corrected — become big things, always.

This flight is an analogy of our lives. Even seemingly inconsequential aspects of our lives can create ripples and waves of consequence — for better or worse.

How are you piloting your life?

What feedback are you receiving to correct your course?

How often do you check your guidance system? Do you even have a guidance system?

Where is your destination?

When are you going to get there?

Are you currently off-course? How long have you been off-course?

How would you know if you are on the right course?

How can you minimize the turbulence and other conditions distracting your path?



1. Organizing Your Life

I don’t think I’m alone in being slightly scattered and sloppy about certain areas of my life.

Life is busy.

It’s hard to keep everything organized and tidy. And maybe you don’t want to have an organized life. But moving forward will require far less energy if you remove the excessive baggage and tension. Everything in your life is energy. If you’re carrying too much — physical or emotional — your progress will be hampered.

In his book, The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, Stephen Covey explains that some things are important, and some things are urgent. Most people spend their life prioritizing urgent and “shallow” activity (e.g., answering emails, putting out proverbial fires, and just day-to-day stuff).

Very few people have organized their lives to prioritize almost exclusively important and “deep” activity (e.g., learning, health, relationships, travel, and goals).

No one cares about your success more than you do. If you’re not a meticulous accountant about the important details of your life, then you aren’t responsible enough to have what you say you want.



So how do you organize your life?

Environmental Energy

  • Is your living space cluttered and messy or simple and neat?
  • Do you keep stuff (like clothes) you no longer use?
  • If you have a car, is it clean or just another place to keep your clutter and garbage?
  • Does your environment facilitate the emotions you consistently want to experience?
  • Does your environment drain or improve your energy?



Financial Energy

  • Do you have unnecessary debt?
  • Do you know how many dollars you spend each month?
  • Do you know how many dollars you make each month?
  • Are you making as much money as you’d like to be?
  • What’s holding you back from creating more value in other people’s lives?
  • Most people don’t track their expenses. But if they did, they’d be shocked how much money they waste on stuff like eating out.
  • I’ll be honest, as a creative and right-brained person, administrative and logistical details bog me down. I procrastinate and avoid them. But this lackluster behavior is holding me back from the very goals I’m trying to accomplish.
  • Until I can hone in on my finances, I won’t have a healthier financial life, regardless of my income. Until I take complete responsibility of my finances, I’ll always be a slave to money.
  • And so will you.


Relational Energy

  • Are your relationships the most meaningful and enjoyable part of your life?
  • Do you spend enough time nurturing the relationships that really matter?
  • Do you maintain toxic relationships that no longer serve you?
  • Are you authentic and honest in your relationships?
  • Like money, most people’s relationships are not organized in a conscious manner. But with something so critical, we should take better stock of our relationships.


Health Energy

  • Do you eat with the end in mind?
  • Are you conscious of and in control of the foods you put in your body?
  • Does the food you eat improve or worsen the other areas of your life?
  • Does your body reflect your highest ideals?
  • Is your body as strong and fit as you want it to be?
  • Are you healthier now than you were three months ago?
  • Health is wealth. If you’re bed ridden, who cares how organized the other areas of your life are? It’s so easy to put our health on the side, such as foregoing sleep, over consuming stimulants, and making poor eating habits.
  • Little things become big things. And eventually everything catches up.


Spiritual Energy

  • Do you have a sense of purpose in life?
  • Have you come to terms with life and death in a way you resonate with?
  • How much power do you have in designing your future?
  • Death, it turns out, is not your greatest fear. Actually, your greatest fear is reaching death and having never truly lived.
  • When you organize your spiritual life, you become clear on what your life is about. You become clear on what you stand for, and how you want to spend each day. You develop conviction for what really matters to you, and what is a “distraction.”
  • No matter how well defined, everyone has a moral system governing their behavior. Most people believe in being honest and good people. But until you organize your spiritual life, you’ll experience internal conflict when acting contrary to your values and vision.


Time

  • How much of your time do you feel in complete control of?
  • Is your time being wasted on things you don’t intrinsically enjoy?
  • Are the activities you spend your time doing moving you toward your ideal future?
  • Are you spending most of your time furthering your own agenda or someone else’s?
  • What activities should you remove from your life?
  • How much time do you waste each day?
  • What would your ideal day look like?
  • What activities could you outsource or automate that take up your time?
  • Until you organize your time, it will disappear and move quickly. Before you know it, you’ll wonder where all the time went.
  • Once you organize your time, it will slow down. You’ll be able to live more presently. You’ll be able to experience time as you want to. You’ll control your time rather than the other way around.


Stop What You’re Doing and Get Organized

Getting organized and conscious of your present circumstances (e.g., your environment, finances, relationships, purpose, and time) puts you in a position to build toward the future you want.

The fastest way to move forward in life is not doing more. It starts with stopping the behaviors holding you back.

If you want to get in shape, you’ll make more progress by stopping your negative behaviors than starting good ones. So, before you start exercising, purge the junk food from your diet. Until you stop the damage, you’ll always be taking one step forward and one step backward.

Before you focus on making more money, reduce your spending. Detach yourself from needing more and become content with what you have. Until you do this, it doesn’t matter how much money you make. You’ll always spend what you have (or more).

This is a matter of stewardship. Rather than wanting more, more, more , it’s key to take proper care of what you currently have. Organize yourself. Dial it in. Your life is a garden. What good is planting if you don’t prepare the soil and remove the weeds?

Why do most people stay stuck? They never organize. They try adding more, or being more productive, or taking a different approach. So before you “hustle,” get organized.



2. Plan And Invest In Your Future


“The best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago. The second best time is now.” — Chinese Proverb


Taking these foundational areas of life and organizing them is essential to creating your ideal future.

Very few people consciously plan and design their life. It’s actually startling how few Americans are investing in their future. Most Millennials are terrified of the stock market and long-term investing. Most Baby Boomers never developed the discipline to invest, but instead maintained an addiction to American consumption.

Even still, you have complete power over the details of your life the moment you decide you’re worthy of that power. That decision is manifest in tangible behaviors, like fixing or removing troubled relationships and saying “no” to activities that are nothing more than a waste of your time.

You get to decide right now.

“If you fail to plan, you are planning to fail!” — Benjamin Franklin

Your vision should be based on your why, not so much your what.

Your why is your reason, your what is how that is manifest. And your “what” can happen in a ton of different ways. For example, my why is to help people get clarity on the life they want to live, and to help them achieve their goals as quickly as possible. My what could be blogging, parenting, being a student, going out to dinner, and several other things.

Too many people think creating a vision is about nailing down exactly what they want in the next 20 years. The problem with this mega long-term approach to goal setting is that it actually slows your potential.

Instead of having a pre-set plan of what he wants to do, Tim Ferriss executes on 3–6 month experiments that he’s currently excited about. He told Darren Hardy in an interview that he has no clue what the outcome of his experiments might be. So there’s no point in making long-term plans. He has no clue what doors will open up, and he wants to be open to the best possibilities.

But his why doesn’t change.

When you are proactively creating and collaborating with many different people, the whole becomes different and better than the sum of its parts. This is why you can’t plan for everything. Because at the highest level, you’ve transcended your need to have things exactly how you want them. You know that with the help of other people, you can do things 10X, 100X, or 1,000X bigger and better than you could ever conceive on your own.

Rather than expecting a particular outcome, you are completely confident that the best outcome will ensue. This is how you create and contribute beyond anything you could ever comprehend. Collaboration and synergy lead to new innovations and ultimately, human evolution. It’s how the old and outdated rules are redefined and replaced with new and better ones, thus changing the global environment.

Invest in Your Future

When you choose to forego momentary gratification in order to have an enhanced future, you are investing in your future. Most people fail to do this successfully.

Most people don’t purposefully invest in their finances, relationships, health, and time. But when you invest in yourself (and your future),you ensure your future present moments will continue to get richer and more enjoyable.

Thus, your life will continue getting better and more in line with your ideal vision.



3. Tracking Important Metrics


“When performance is measured, performance improves. When performance is measured and reported, the rate of improvement accelerates. ”

— Thomas Monson


Getting organized and investing in your future are futile if you’re not tracking. In regards to the most important areas of your life, you need to be on top of what’s going on.

Tracking is difficult. If you’ve tried it before, chances are, you quit within a few days.

Research has repeatedly found that when behavior is tracked and evaluated, it improves drastically.

If you’re not tracking the key areas of your life, than you’re probably more off-course than you think. If you were to be honest with yourself, you’d be stunned how out-of-control things have become. As J.M. Barrie, author of Peter Pan, has said:

“The life of every man is a diary in which he means to write one story, and writes another; and his humblest hour is when he compares the volume as it is with what he vowed to make it.”

The cool part is, once you get organized, make a plan, and start tracking, desired change happens quickly.

Track the things that are closely related to your core priorities. As Jim Collins said in Good to Great, 

“If you have more than three priorities you have none.”

Your priorities reflect your why, and thus, your life should be build around your priorities. Not the other way around. Consequently, if you’re serious about improving upon the foundation of your life, track your priorities. 

For example:

Your key relationships

Your finances

Self improvement (such as health or how you use your time)

You can track whatever priorities you have. But I can absolutely promise you that once you do, your conscious awareness of these things will increase. You’re ability to control these things will enhance. Your confidence will wax strong. And your life will become simpler.

You’ll be living a simple, yet organized and refined life. You’ll be responsible, which put another way is freedom.



4. Prayer and Meditation To Reduce Noise

“I have so much to do today that I’m going to need to spend three hours in prayer in order to be able to get it all done.” — Martin Luther

There’s a lot of emphasis on hustle these days.

Hustle, hustle, hustle.

But all the hustle in the wrong direction isn’t going to help you. Yes, by hustling you can fail often, fail fast, and fail forward. However, as Thomas Merton has said:

“People may spend their whole lives climbing the ladder of success only to find, once they reach the top, that the ladder is leaning against the wrong wall.”

This happens way too often. We get caught in the thick of thin things. Far too late do we realize that in our mad rush, we were pursuing someone else’s goals instead of our own.

But spending a large chuck of time in prayer and/or meditation does more than provide clarity to what you’re doing. These things open your mind up to possibilities you can’t get while busy.

For example, a few days ago I spent the entire morning praying, thinking deeply, listening to inspirational music, and writing in my journal. A few hours into this process, an idea came to me that is absolute gold.

I also got insights regarding important relationships during that time, which when those insights came in, I immediately sent out emails or texts to those people. Amazing collaborations and mentorships were the resultant outcome.

But there’s more.

Your thoughts are incredibly powerful. They actually govern not only you but those around you. Think about it, if you think positively about the people you’re around, their lives are better. This is why people “send positive energy” or pray for other people. It actually makes a difference.

Your thoughts create endless ripples — even waves — of consequence all around you.

While praying and/or meditating for a large portion of time, the level of your thoughts will elevate. And interesting things will begin happening. If you’re uncomfortable with the idea of miracles, you can think of it as luck.

Whatever you call it, when you spend large portions of time every day in deep reflection mode, luck strikes. Stuff happens that is completely outside of your control for your benefit.

For instance, during my deep dive into my mind and soul, one of my favorite authors came across my blog. He re-tweeted one of my articles and reached out to me. Now we’re friends. We’ve spent lots of time together. He’s helped me get a book contract. He’s even had me speak at one of his events!

If you’re skeptical of these ideas. Give it a try. Why do you think the majority of the world’s most successful have rituals such as these? There is a higher realm you can tap into that unlocks limitless possibilities.

The only thing holding you back from those things is your mind.



5. Move Toward Your Goals Every Single Day

How many days go by where you did nothing to move toward your big goals?

Probably too many.

Life is busy.

If you don’t purposefully carve time out every day to progress and improve, then without question, your time will get lost in the vacuum of our increasingly crowded lives. Before you know it, you’ll be old and withered, wondering where all that time went.

As Harold Hill has said: 

“You pile up enough tomorrows, and you’ll find you are left with nothing but a lot of empty yesterdays.”

After you’ve gotten yourself organized, made plans, started tracking, and gotten into the habit of prayer/meditation, taking action and hustling will be automatic. You’ll be focused on the right thing and in the right frame of mind to actually execute.

Its good practice to do these kind of things at the beginning of your day before your will power depletes.

If you don’t, it simply will not get done. By the end of your day, you’ll be exhausted. You’ll be fried. There will be a million reasons to just start tomorrow. And you will start tomorrow — which is never.

So your mantra becomes: 

The worst comes first. Do that thing you’ve been needing to do. Then do it again tomorrow.

If you take just one step toward your big goals every day, you’ll realize those goals weren’t really far away.



Conclusion

It’s really easy to get off course in life. Like airplanes, we constantly need to make course corrections.

But we can ensure we get where we want in life by organizing ourselves, planning for our future, tracking our progress, heightening our mindset, and hustling.

Do this long enough and you’ll be shocked.

Go!

Let’s promise each other something: because darling, oh darling. I know you want to press pause on the movie that is your life, because I do, I do. And I know you sometimes get so tired of carrying the weight of the world on those slim shoulders. I know you look into the mirror and see plain features and feel roaring waves of inadequacy, I know, I know.

I know you’ve got a little voice whispering inside of you you’ll never be good enough. I know you try to protect yourself, to shield yourself to not care because you fear the heartbreak that comes with caring to much but doing this makes you put yourself on the sidelines, makes people stop inviting you and I know, God, I know how much this hurts.

So let’s promise each other something: whenever this happens, this little voice trying so hard to protect us and only winding up hurting us: let’s promise each other to cry a little, to cry a lot. To take a shower, to listen to music and really, truly listen, think about nothing else. To write about wanting to give up but to keep on going, to eat something healthy too, even if we eat up a whole pack of potato chips or chocolate cookies, to grant ourselves this small reprieve instead of hating ourselves afterwards for the way we can pinch our belly between skinny fingers.

Listen to me, please, let’s promise each other to take a walk, to walk past a bridge or a body of water, to admire the darkness but remember the coldness and to keep on going. Remember that stranger that smiled, the one that helped you reach a high shelve, that picked up some change and gave it back, to remember the bus driver that waited on that busy intersection to let you get on, to remember all those little kindnesses from strangers you’ll never forget and to remember that we, too, have got so many little kindnesses to give and that there must be a stranger out there somewhere that remembers these plain features, these brown eyes and not so white teeth.

Let’s promise each other, that, please, please, but let’s also promise each other to sometimes let go and cry and to look after ourselves. Let’s remember that being kind and nice and good does not mean letting people walk over ourselves. And let’s define ourselves: if we like to be alone, sometimes, if we like to close the curtains against the world and drown in music and song, why be jealous of that one friend that is always talking to someone if the mere idea of holding more than three conversations is exhausting. If you love that girl everyone else seems to find annoying, hold steady to it, say “I like her and I like you and is there a problem?” because nothing will feel worse, and of this I am so absolutely certain, nothing will feel worse than betraying yourself.
Darling please, let’s promise each other, that on those lowest moments, on those darkest nights, when we feel like no one will love us ever, we’ll think of our achievements, even if they were something that feels so small and insignificant, like eating one cookie less or getting out of bed, if we were proud of them they matter and so do we. So do we.

And let’s promise each other we’ll think of our families, or about the friends we’ve had and that even though it always felt like we were the second choice, we were a choice, so they wanted us in their lives. Let’s think of the stranger we once helped, and think that maybe they remember us. Let’s think of the things that we love, and let’s think about the fact that the CO2 we expel from our lungs feed plants and bacteria and that we matter. That we have done some good in this world and that hopefully we’ll be able to do some more. That everything will be all right someday as long as we keep going.
Darling, let’s promise each other, that though we are strangers that may have never met, I’ll love you and you’ll love me, and we’ll think about each other sometimes, because we understand each other so perfectly, because I know that voice in your head as well as you know the ache in my bones and the tiredness of my eyelids, and we’ll keep on existing and breathing and loving and not giving up no matter how many times our heart breaks because we know they are not alone in breaking and so maybe, just maybe, they will not be alone in healing either because we will have each other to think of, to remember and to smile through the tears together.

;the touch of silk (m)

pairing: min yoongi x reader, sugar daddy! yoongi, vampire! yoongi
genre/warnings: smut, romance, blood mentions, but nothing too crazy, dirty talk, dom! Yoongi
words: 14,221

:: summary— in a world where vampires coexist with the living, there are many humans looking for a cheap thrill…you’re ashamed to admit you’re curious too, putting to good use a dating app you find…but Min Yoongi is nothing like you imagined a vampire to be…

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Don’t Freak

Originally posted by kings-of-my-heart

Steve Harrington x Reader

Requests are OPEN

PART II | PART III | PART IV | PART V

PART I


“You’re really trying to tell me that Low is David Bowie’s best album to date?” Jonathan nodded, opening the brown paper bag that held his lunch.

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” Y/N’s eyes widened, then shoved her lunch tray to the side. She leaned on her elbows, her hands in front of her.

“I could name five other Bowie albums, easily, that blow Low out of the water,” Jonathan took a bite of his sandwich, then motioned to Y/N.

“Go on then,”

Station to Station,” Y/N’s right index finger began to point to the fingers on her left hand to count. “Aladdin Sane, The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars -obviously-, Diamond Dogs, and my number one favorite Bowie album of all time,” Jonathan mimed exactly what Y/N was saying with her, “Hunky Dory.” Y/N took a deep breath as she finished, then shoved a french fry in her mouth. “It’s like I don’t even know you sometimes,” She shook her head and shrugged her shoulders jokingly, “But, I mean, Low is still a great album,” That made Jonathan chuckle. A body suddenly appeared on the bench next to Y/N, scaring the life out of her. She had one hand on her mouth and the other over her heart to stop herself from screaming. Y/N turned her head and saw Steve Harrington with a dumb grin on his face.

“Tonight?” He looked at Y/N expectantly.

“What?” Her pupils were still wide from the shock, and the word sounded pretty dumb coming from her.

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2

-catching his attention first day and after that he just has to have you

-he has all these pick up lines

-like, he’s a walking pick up line creator

-him taking a lot of time to get ready for your first date and fussing over every last detail

-showing up to your date and he’s just 100% charm

-after that you cant get enough of each other

-driving around

-pulling over just to make out

-when he drives he has his hand on your thigh

-yeah you’re just so damn distracting when he’s driving so lots of stops

-lets be serious, you like driving fast and he can give it to you, he loves when he goes so fast you scream

-he likes doing other things that make you scream

-this boi has mad game in the bed room lets be serious

-he’s hella protective and if you were dating him you’d have to be chill with that

-king of arm over your shoulders

-king of glare down anyone who looks at you the wrong way

-you’re both reigning king and queen of PDA

-like when you stand next to  him, lets be serious, you’re running your fingers around his abs and shoulders

-but also such a deep like communication

-opening up to each other about everything

-supporting each other 100%

-being there for him whenever he has issues with his dad

-helping him learn to not take his anger out on Max when he’s really just mad at his dad 

-him sitting with his head in your lap while he tells you his life story

-he likes sitting with his head in your lap, looking up at you

-people being just shocked you’re with him

-having to explain to Steve why you’re with Billy

-honestly, just lots of explaining

-but people see how he changes when he’s with you

-really trying to get to know Max

-one day she snaps at you about why you’re dating Billy and you, without directly stating it, tell her there might be more going in in his head when he’s mean to her, perhaps he’s an ass to her so she knows not to do things that would upset his dad

-its obvious to Billy that you like Max, and he is super insecure about not being good enough so he tries really hard to make you happy and if being nice to Max makes you happy then so be it

-honestly, just helping Billy figure his shit out

-redemption arc please

-going to movies together and managing to get through half the movie before you both go find some place to make out

-honestly just primal attraction and need for one another

-he’s a lip biter, i see it

-being jealous of his hella long eye lashes

-him telling you he loves every single part of you

-him kind of being scared he loves you so much because he’s never felt that way before

-but he knows his heart is safe with you <3

-kissing in the rain

-sneaking around school together

-he’s a bad boy so skipping classes, unless you’re super against it, then he wouldent pressure you

-honestly probably doing something athletic together, unless you hate that, then you study or listen to music and dance while he works out 

-holding each other like your life depends on it when one or both of you is sad

-always knowing how to make the other smile

-there would be issues, not gonna lie, but you see in Billy the ability to redeem himself, and you are there with him every step of the way

-(last minute add on: super dirty dancing vibes in some dodgy bar with rock music going where you dont know anyone else and all you care about is each other)

ARE YOU STILL SCREAMING ABOUT THOR: RAGNAROK? BECAUSE I’M STILL SCREAMING ABOUT IT. I need so much slice-of-life on the ship fic, I need so much kissing-and-more resolution to the hug scene, I need so much speculation on what happens when they get to where they’re going, I need so much about the various friendships forming, I need so much fic about a whole bunch of people crammed into a relatively small ship for months and the hilarious and awful things that happen because of it. AND FANDOM IS DEFINITELY ON A ROLL WITH IT, THERE’S MORE GREAT STUFF.  (Part one is here!)

THOR: RAGNAROK FIC RECS:
The Breath Between Regrets by Vera (Vera_DragonMuse), thor/loki & valkyrie & heimdall & hulk & korg, ragnarok spoilers, 9.5k
   The journey to Midgard should take a year and a day. Long enough for many things.
What the Thunder Said by kyrilu, thor/loki, ragnarok spoilers, ~1k
   Days after the battle, Thor’s skin is still sparking lightning.
the silver forked sky by powerfulsound, thor/loki, ragnarok spoilers, nsfw, 1.2k
   There is a storm, sparking under Thor’s skin. Attracted to it, a magpie to shiny things, Loki is helpless in Thor’s wake.
Reunion by riventhorn, thor/loki, nsfw, ragnarok spoilers, 1.3k
   After so long apart, Loki can’t help being drawn to Thor.
Privilege to love by will_thewisp, thor/loki, NSFW, ragnarok spoilers, 2.6k
   He didn’t know why Loki felt the need to fight him on every ground, to hide things that had no business being hidden, but he was determined to meet him on every occasion. To Thor it seemed that Loki fought with himself as much as with Thor.
followed you down by homovikings, thor/loki & heimdall & valkyrie & tony & sif & cast, ragnarok spoilers, 5.3k
   It’s Asgard but it isn’t.
drowning on your shore by psikeval, thor/loki, ragnarok spoilers, 1.3k
   Loki, entirely solid, does not flicker and does not flinch.
In my Arms by wetdandelions, thor/loki, NSFW, ragnarok spoilers, 1.2k
   “I’m here,” says Loki. Set after the end of Thor: Ragnarok. PWP. SPOILERS.
In the Flesh by hjbender, thor/loki, NSFW, ragnarok spoilers, intersex!loki, 6.3k
   Loki stares back, gives the stopper a gentle toss. It sparkles briefly in the air before he catches it again. “There isn’t anything else you’d like to give me? Nothing you’d like to say? Because”—he spreads his arms and smiles invitingly, both hands suddenly empty—“here I am.”
Nowhere Is Home Unless We’re Both In the Same Place by Velocity_Owl87, thor/loki, ragnarok spoilers, 1.3k
   After the dust has settled, Thor realizes the implications of Kingship and Asgard’s future mean for him as the new King of Asgard. Thankfully, he doesn’t have to grapple with the situation alone, at least.
Heroes Run Towards Their Problems by Naiveandoptimistic, thor & loki & valkyrie & hulk & korg & cast, ragnarok spoilers, 1.6k
   Post-Ragnarok. Valkyrie is a drunken hot mess. Loki conceals, Hulk worries, and Thor gives some wisdom.
Not an Illusion by janto321 (FaceofMer), thor/loki, NSFW, ragnarok spoilers, ~1k
   Loki and Thor find comfort in one another
black sheep and mischief by grim_lupine, thor & loki, ragnarok spoilers, 3.2k
   A bird alights on Thor’s shoulder and pecks his cheek twice, hard enough to make him wince. “What are you doing?” it warbles in his ear. “Wondering what my brother is doing up at this hour, little bird,” Thor replies. “Will you go ask him for me?”
Never Doubt That I Love You by ValkyrieShepard, thor/loki & heimdall & valkyrie & hulk & cast, NSFW, ragnarok spoilers, 10.6k
   After Thor’s proposal, Loki pulls away. As Thor is busy trying to rule his people, Loki finds him again, and the two of them scout a possible planet for their people where Thor tries to get through his brother’s walls. There is much Loki has to work through.
after you, i dont know what i believe in by CallicoKitten, thor/loki & valkyrie & bruce & heimdall & cast, ragnarok spoilers, 9.6k
   aka, the long road to midgard
Crossroads by kyrilu, loki & heimdall, ragnarok spoilers, ~1k
   As Loki leaves Sakaar with a shipload of former prisoners, Heimdall decides to ‘visit.’
victory runes by spookykingdomstarlight, thor/loki, ragnarok spoilers, 3.3k
   A snake couldn’t change its colors, try as he might, trust his own intentions as he wanted to. At this moment, legs braced on either side of Thor’s lap, he couldn’t imagine doing anything to undermine Thor’s rule, his wants, his needs. But tomorrow was another day and Loki’s whims were mercurial.

full details + recs under the cut!

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To new K-pop fans…

1. I remember when I first got I to K-pop and I tried to remember their names by remembering their hair color…. I was mistaken. Don’t. Save yourself the confusion.

2. Look up their ages. You might be in for a shock.

3. There is a thing called ‘Korean age’ and basically that means your favorites are going to have 2 ages. There actual age and then their Korean age. For Korean age you automatically turn one on the day you’re born and then gain another year on new year. So you basically add 1 to two years depending on if it’s before or after new year. So when you hear something like “they’re a 94 liner” that means that they were born in 1994..simple right.

4. They aren’t gay. Well logically speaking some of them probably are, but most are straight. Idols are affectionate with each other. You will see them sleeping and cuddling in the same bed, always touching one another, and always getting jealous over one of their members *cough * Jungkook *cough* They aren’t afraid of ‘skinship’ and that doesn’t make them gay.

5. Aegyo. Aegyo is basically just acting overly cute and it can take some getting used too especially if you’re from a country where 'cute’ isn’t really standard. Yeah grown men and women acting overly cute is still something I can’t handle a lot of.

6. V-live. V-live is basically video instagram for Korean artists. That is where they go live, post fun videos, and etc. You can download it completely free from your app store. There are some channels/content that you have to pay for if you want to watch it though. Most of the big names in K-pop will have subtitles on their content because of the lovely translators in the fandom, but a lot of the small or newer groups won’t. 😔

Oh and if you download vlive and your watching a solo live from one of your favorites and they aren’t your bias *favorite* DON’T ASK FOR OTHER MEMBERS!!!!!! It makes them feel bad… K… Thanks.

7. There is a dark side to K-pop. Most trainees get treated horribly, some idols don’t eat enough, Scandal on top of Scandal and etc but I’m going to all of that. You can dive into the tell of darkness on your own. Or you can message me or another K-pop fan with any questions.

8. Music shows. Music shows usually happen every week and if your face just had a comeback *aka released new music* then they will likely be on soon. The music shows have winners and those winners are chosen by sales, votes, and I believe views.. IDK. So if you want to vote you can go and make free accounts and vote. Accounts will also help you with voting for the end of the year music shows. MAMA is one of the major ones in case you’ve seen the phrase 'vote bts or vote exo or vote got7 for mama’ it’s not talking about voting for their mother.

9. Variety shows. Oh god variety shows. They will be the best and worst thing to happen to you because one you see your favorites on a variety program *which is kinda like a game show/interview* and you see how adorkable they truly are you are in that fandom for life. Sorry. Not sorry. No way out. K-pop is not a revolving door. Welcome.

Variety shows often involve punishments. Like being spanked by your fellow members or being hit on the head really hard with a toy hammer or flicked in the forehead. It’s weird but you’ll love it. Oh and the K-pop dances are amazing and scary complicated as is, but wait until you see it 2x faster. Not sure idols are human TBH.

10. Whiplash. What I mean by this is you are going to pick a favorite and they are going to be adorable and cute and you are going to want to protect them and their innocence and then they are going to get on stage or start dancing and they change into this rude creature and you’re not sure what just happened …i call it whiplash. The transition from fluffy to rude within .0000001 of a second. You get whiplash.

11. You have to go to YouTube and look up K-pop crack videos. Just look up 'K-pop crack’ or 'K-pop on crack’ they are so funny. Also the K-pop try not to laugh videos.

12. K-pop fandom. Each fandom has a name for their fans, like bts’ fans are called 'Army’ And each fandom either has or will at some point have a unique lightstick to represent their fandom. Fan chants are also a thing. You will often hear these at music shows and concerts. They are quite easy to pick up ion their own, but if you need assistance then you can google “ *group name* fan chants”

13. You don’t speak Korean. That is perfectly okay. Most of the big groups have amazing translators in their fandoms and they sub everything..mostly into English.. But I’ve seen some in Spanish and German too. You do not have to speak the language to be able to love K-pop. Music doesn’t need lyrics to be understood. But more power to you if you want to learn Korean it is a beautiful language and has amazing tradition and heritage that is so fun to learn about.

14. K-dramas. They are a thing and they are amazing. A lot of your favs have probably made an appearance if not had a leading role. Even if they don’t have your favs I do recommend downloading 'Drama Fever’ and binge watching. Again there are sub titles and most of the content is free, but there is some you have to pay for.

15. Military enlistment. It is law in Korea that every able-bodied man must serve at least 2 years in the military before they are 32. Idols from Thailand such as 2pm’s Nichkhun and Got7’s BamBam can either take the full 2 years or enter the draft. If they enter the draft and don’t draw a red card then they don’t have to go, but if they enter the draft and draw the red card then they have to serve the full 2 years. Idols from America and other countries are exempt I do believe.

Let me or another K-pop Stan know if you have any more questions and we’ll do our best to answer and if anyone has something else to add feel free ☺

Welcome to the K-pop life ♥

second-fannypack  asked:

Prompt: Richie and Eddie don't know each other, but Richie just wiped out on his skateboard outside Eddie's house

here we go

+ eddie hates sundays

+ he always finishes his homework friday when he gets home but his mom won’t let him go out past 6pm on sundays anyways so he always has to find ways to entertain himself

+ usually bill would come sneak in through his window to keep him company but he had therapy tonight until 7 and eddie was alone and bored out of his mind

+ he was currently staring out his second floor window and watching the squirrels 

+ but then he sees him

+ the cute, lanky neighbor kid from down the street skates right past his house

+ and then,,, back past his house?

+ he starts doing tricks on the sidewalk (nothing fancy, mostly just jumping up and landing about 50% of the time) but after the 3rd jump he… looks up at eddie?

+ aND WINKS

+ and eddie’s like shitshitshit i’ve been caught staring at this boy and now he’s making me blush what the fUck

+ then the neighbor kid gets cocky

+ he decides to try that thing where you,, flip the board,, in midair before landing on it? (eddie is not very familiar with skating technical terms)

+ this trick makes eddie very nervous

+ Cute Boy falls flat on his ass and his elbow hits the ground hard

+ eddie runs down the stairs and out the door after grabbing his first aid kit from the nightstand

+ “ohmygod ohmygod what the fuck is wrong with you you could have broken your arm and all i have is neosporin and bandaids here what were you thinking come inside i have to clean up this scrape before it gets infected- no don’t TOUCH it do you know how many GERMS there are on human hands oh my god”

+ but then eddie just looks up and cute boy is smiling at him in the sweetest way he’s ever seen abut then he just smirks and says “hey i’m richie and i’m usually pretty good at skating but i guess i couldn’t help falling for you”

+ eddie needs his inhaler

Epoch

Epoch (m) a period of time in history or a person’s life, typically one marked by notable events or particular characteristics.

Words: 11.3k

Genre/Warnings: smut, language and angst

Pairing: Reader x Jungkook

Summary: When Namjoon breaks up with you, you’re left wondering what to do. Realizing you’ve been unhappy with your life, you go off to Hawaii. In Hawaii, you meet a cute desk clerk named Jungkook who saves your ass. (Based off of Forgetting Sarah Marshall)


You were waiting for your boyfriend, Namjoon, to come over. He had just gotten back from New York, where he had a few concerts. You worked with him, you were a lyric writer and producer. He had called you last night, saying, that he would be getting in early and wanted to see you.

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