before school pictures

Voltron Character's phone wallpapers
  • Shiro: Keith and his cat
  • Keith: Shiro laying on his Physics book
  • Pidge: Her and Matt at the Garrison
  • Hunk: He and his Mom
  • Lance: His family
  • Allura: Her and her father
  • Coran: He, Allura and Alfor
  • Zarkon: Kittens
  • Lotor: Himself
  • Haggar: Zarkon
  • Plaxum: She and Lance near the Shore.

What is it about me that makes people think it’s ok to just use me

2

Right, so… My scanner. It’s terrible. But my writing. It’s also terrible. So I hope you can at least see the left hand notes alright, and I know it’s kind of hard to tell, but the entire right hand is played one octave higher. Anyways, I decided to make some sheet music for the Elegy that Saeki plays because I like it and it’s short. The left hand also killed me I had a lot of fun! (I regret not writing this in 8/8, but I guess there’s no big difference. I also realize that I could have probably fit it all on one page if I had tried hard enough…)

Also, here’s my demonstration of how it sounds. Feel free to use these Sheet Music for your own purposes, and make the appropriate change if necessary! If you also play it, I’d love to hear it!

Please do not re-upload, though!

3

🎃 Happy Halloween!! 🎃 From Jack and Sally!! 🎃

(Celebrated Halloween by cosplaying from one of my favourite movies)

2

a~e~s~t~h~e~t~i~c

grantaire knitting the old fashioned way instead of by magic and making enjolras a scarf with all the school colors on it because he refuses to wear the slytherin one and enjolras is REALLY cold and grantaire takes pity on him and it’s really the ugliest scarf ever but enjolras loves it and gladly takes detention for violating the uniform code

6

Yes, I know I’ve been studying medicine for way too long to still be fangirling over owning a stethoscope, but I’ve never taken pictures of it before so whatever. 

For those who are interested: It’s a Littmann II SE (which is basically the standard everyone uses) in the Copper edition. It’s fun and steampunk and awesome.

Now if only I had more practice at actually using it… 

011. YouTuber Preferences: Superstar

It’s not the idea I originally was going to write, but I’ve been struggling with YouTuber inspiration lately and I feel bad neglecting them. Hopefully these are okay. I’m not so sure about Mazz’s. Thanks. 

Finn:

Since it had been announced that you would be Emma Bloom in the film adaptation of Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children alongside Will Poulter, Juno Temple, and Douglas Booth, your world had been completely rocked. When you were simply a part of the cast of EastEnders, you would be recognized here and there, but generally left alone when riding on the tube, collecting food at the market, or just out with your friends. Suddenly, you were internationally known and one the most commonly Googled people. Young children waited outside your building for a glimpse and the chance to snap a quick photo before school, people took your picture while you were eating lunch at your favorite pub, and your Twitter follower count had quadrupled.

On one hand, it was more than you could have ever imagined, but it was also a huge adjustment to make. You were used to being able to go wherever you wanted on a Saturday night and now you were being paid and bribed to show up certain places and, when you did, everyone wanted to touch you, talk to you, and take a snapshot.

Finn wasn’t sure what to make of the sudden shift in your life. He always knew you aspired to be a big time actress. When you met, he approached you because he knew you from your character, Alyssa Ossington, on EastEnders. However, he might have been a fan of you in that show, but he never considered finding out where you lived and trying to get inside. The flashing lights, the constant travelling, all the screaming, and having to hide and plan elaborate schemes just in order to go for dinner was out of his realm.

He had some experience dealing with screaming fans and people losing their minds over him since Jack’s channel took off thanks to him starring in the Twins video, but that was on a YouTube scale. You were one of the main characters in a wildly anticipated franchise. He teased you that you were the next Emma Watson or Jennifer Lawrence and while he wanted success for you, he feared it at the same time.

“One with just [Y/N]!” Paparazzi had been trying to shoo Finn out of the frame for a few minutes, but you had only just been able to hear what they were saying now as you posed on the red carpet of the film’s London premiere. Finn’s fingers loosened from your side as his hand started to pull away your bare back, the flimsy material of your pink Donna Karan dress just dancing over the curves he usually held on to.

“No, no. He stays.” You told them, your smile never wavering as you turned and snatched Finn’s hand back in yours.

“This is your night. Don’t worry.” Finn didn’t really like all the flashing lights and shouting. He and Jack worked so well as twins because Jack liked to be the star and in the center of all the attention, giving Finn time to sit back and observe.

“But…are you sure?” He was your date for the night after all and your boyfriend of just over a year.

“Yeah.” Nodding, he assured you that he really wanted the break. He was going to kiss you quickly, a simple peck, but the cameras were still snapping as you two were just talking, so Finn stepped out of the lens and waited along with your publicist and an assistant who was helping at the event on the red carpet.

He couldn’t remember being so uncomfortable before. He knew Jack would have eaten this whole night up, but it was too much for him. You were in your element, working the whole night like it was what you were put on the planet to do. Finn was happy for you, proud even, but he wasn’t sure if he could really get used to a life that didn’t come with even a shred of privacy. He was sure he would unwillingly morph from the nice guy he was into a Kanye West if photographers and fans screamed at him all day, everywhere he went. Finn wanted to be with you, but he wondered if he could put up with this lifestyle.

“Are you having a nice time?” Holding his hand, you asked him quietly while stepping out of conversation with a group of Paramont Pictures producer. He didn’t look happy, but Finn also wasn’t incredibly expressive. He didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve.

“Yeah.” He lied. “This is your night. How could I not be having fun?” He really wanted to believe the words coming out of his mouth. He thought maybe if he kept saying things in a similar vein, he might.  Happily, Finn put his hand back on your exposed spine again. He held onto your like a life preserver since he felt like he was drowning at sea in the room flooded with people, everyone working their agenda. “Do you think you could get used to this?” Curiously, mostly, Finn asked, looking down over your perfectly done up hair and eyes that were lit up brighter than the gleam off the diamonds on your clutch.

“Hell yeah.” You didn’t have to think twice. This was what you had been dreamed about doing for so long. There were home videos of you dressed up in bed sheets with bows in your hair, waving at yourself in closet mirror, pretending to be what you thought a movie star was back then. “I don’t want tonight to end.”

The panic set into Finn then and there. His mind thought about how you were better suited for someone else, but he knew that he wasn’t interested in being with anyone else. He couldn’t be what your life needed though. The idea of walking more red carpets or having mobs of people camped outside your lawn gave him a migraine right between his eyes. It was Hell. He wanted to be with you, he loved being your boyfriend, but he couldn’t help but think this new phase of your life was one that was not meant for him.

“You’re a star.” He told you out loud, whispering the words above you as if to get used to their sound. It was the truth. You were a star and he was just the clutch carrier, the arm candy, and the guy they wanted out of the shot. He kissed your forehead lovingly, hoping to hold onto you before you could catch on to how much he didn’t belong there. Smiling up at him, you glowed, and took his hand to move toward some of the other groups of people.

Jack:

Flashing cameras calling out both your names, people screaming behind metal fences for autographs and photos, a chance to touch your baby soft skin, and swanky parties where you could rub elbows with people who had the power to change things. Jack had been dreaming about this for both of you since you two met doing a YouTube challenge on your channel.

You had always said that if you never advanced from making DIY YouTube videos in your bedroom that you would still be happy, but you always loved how focused and tenacious Jack was when it came to branching out. He was so determined to gain notoriety for more than his boy band good looks, twin brother, and natural charm. It seemed as soon as you two started dating, he was working around the clock for opportunities for you both. He was the one who made a meeting with the producers of the popular talk show, Loose Women, and convinced them to allow you a twenty minute spot.  Since it was around Valentine’s day, the show had a romantic theme and you chose to create heart shaped dream catchers during your segment. The whole time, as you were trying to teach the hosts what to do, they were asking you about your own Valentine’s day plans and the camera would pan to Jack in the audience, grinning like a little kid left alone in the candy aisle of the market.

“He’s cute!” One of the women squealed, knocking your hip with her own. “Do you share?”

“Not him, no.” Cutely, you peeped right back and waved to Jack.

The brief spot had been successful as Jack was tweeting throughout to his many followers, telling them to post pictures of their own dream catchers. It also opened the door for more appearances on talk shows and soon you were making the rounds all over daytime television. After a year of crafting all over UK television, you and Jack had a real fan base. Taylor Swift told Glamour magazine in an article that she was obsessed with your blog, Alexander Ludwig talked about how you were his celebrity crush, and you landed your first magazine cover alongside Jack with the caption ‘England’s Sweethearts’ in bold red letters over top.

While you were always grateful, you felt like the whole thing was orchestrated by Jack. You needed him or you would have still been alone in your room with a glue gun and a camera. As you threw your luggage over top of the fancy hotel bed in a suite that was being paid for for you both, your mind began to wonder to worrisome crevices. The sound of Jack talking on the phone and running into the bedroom outshone most of them.

“Are you almost set?” Eagerly, he asked as soon as he was off his call. He was both your partner, always promoting his own projects and causes, while consistently acting as your agent, pushing you to do more and bringing in new opportunities. “We’re supposed to be there in forty five minutes.” He reminded you as he had only a few minutes ago. This was a huge day for you as you were going to the Free People flagship store, signing the magazine cover for people, and then doing the first ‘[Y/N]’s top picks’ for the clothing brand’s website. It was a huge opportunity for you and one you were very excited about.

“I just want to put on a different top.” Your sweatshirt felt sticky after the long flight. “Hey, Jack?” He looked away from his emails on his phone, his bright eyes beaming up at you.

“How do you feel about pizza in the room tonight? It’s been ages since we just had a normal date.” In fact, you remembered that it had nearly two months ago and it only happened because your pitch meeting for an online television show was cancelled, so you two just went to see a movie at the closest cinema instead.

“We’re going to that denim launch party, remember?” Jack’s mind was organized like a State library. He knew your schedule, his own, and then some without ever having to check in his actual leather day planner. It was quite impressive. Your disappointment was obvious to him though, so he put his phone away and sat right down next to your suitcase, watching as you pulled your sweatshirt over your head, revealing a plain black bra. “Are you alright?” He checked, reaching up and putting his palm flat on the middle of your stomach. He needed you to be alright, this was a very important opportunity around the corner.

“Yeah. I just…why me?” Breathing out, opening a folded peach tunic up in front of you, you asked. Jack didn’t follow though. He took his hand off of your body and put it back between his knees, his eyebrows frowning at the question. “I mean, why have you given me this career? Why not somebody else?” He could have acted for Zoella or any number of his other friends. Sure, you were his girlfriend, but you had never asked him to call Loose Women for you. It was all his own dedication.

“Because I always knew you were a star.” Jack used to constantly go on and on over microwave dinners at midnight to you when he was pushing to get you onto talk shows that you were meant for more than YouTube videos and arts and crafts, but you couldn’t see the special spark that he did. You just trusted him since he had enough self-confidence for the two of you.

“Would you still want to be with me if I wasn’t?” Completely seriously, you asked him, your chest now covered in your top. You reached onto your hip and took the material, tying it up casually over your black leggings until there was a thick knot on the side.

“Of course!” Jack took no less than a nanosecond to shout out his answer. He couldn’t believe you had asked. “I am not with you because the rest of the world thinks you’re amazing, I’m with you because I’ve always known you are.” He leaned into you and slid up so your chests were touching. Jack snaked his hands up behind your back and kissed the tip of your nose. “If you want to not go to this launch party and stay in and eat pizza, we can…” He told you and you knew he was being sincere. The fact that he offered was enough. There was a part of you that knew this joyride wouldn’t last forever so you were going to enjoy it as much as you could while you could and with Jack by your side the whole time.

JOE:

“I did not fucking sign up for this!” Joe shouted as he turned on the lamp on your nightstand and jumped out of bed. You two had finally moved in together, but after the third day when your new address was released due to someone else who lived in the high rise, people were constantly outside your building, chanting your name and waiting for a glimpse of you on the balcony or coming out of the front golden doors.

There was a time where Joe found how famous you were exciting, but that was before you had a number one song playing on the radio practically on loop. Before you were just an up and coming artist, trying to make it, opening for bands that came to London here and there, putting out songs over YouTube and on your Tumblr, but now you were a bonafide star. You were about to go and take over as the opening act for Katy Perry on her Prismatic World Tour, you had just performed on Jimmy Fallon, and Bruce Springsteen hit on you after your spot on Saturday Night Live where he made a cameo appearance on Weekend Update.

However as you slowly woke up from the sudden harsh light, you instantly knew now wasn’t the time to remind Joe that he used to want this life for you. You rubbed at your tired eyes and opened them up on Joe, opening your bedroom window and sticking his head, “Fuck off! It’s three in the fucking morning!” He said three times, cameras flashing and screaming beginning as soon as he was visible in the night sky.

“Joe, stop that!” You hissed from underneath the covers. “Get back in here.”

He still looked livid as he brought his upper body back into the room, closing the window with great force.

“We should call the cops again. This is loitering and harassment and stalking and I’m sure it’s other things!” He waved his pointed finger up in the air and headed to find his cell phone. He charged in only his boxers to the adjoining bathroom, finding his phone on silent next to a bar of soap on the sink.

“They didn’t do anything last night.” Yawning, you reminded him and reached over to turn the lamp off before lying back down, closing your eyes with ease.

“How are you okay with this?!” Joe shouted. “I am not okay with this.”

“Go to sleep, Joe.” You moaned and hoped that he would listen.

“I can’t. People are chanting your name outside.” He motioned toward the window with his frantic hand, but he didn’t need to make any gestures. You could hear it just fine yourself and even though it was inconvenient, you appreciated their support. “This is absolute fucking lunacy. How can you live like this!?”

“Because it’s my life,” You rolled over and sat up with your weight on the palm of your hands. Joe wasn’t the only one in the room that was exhausted, but he was supposed to support you just like they were, if not more so as you were his girlfriend. “And I love it!”

The two of you held one another’s sleepy stares in the darkness, his loud breathing and the singing of your name outside the only noise in the entire room. It seemed somehow that you were both sharing the same thought as you kept locked on each other.  Could Joe handle your life? Was this the straw that would break the back of your love? People asked all the time if they thought that Joe would be scared away by your success, but you always felt confident that he wanted you to be successful too much to have it frighten him or let it change things.

“Joe, are you - ?” Finally, you spoke though the words weren’t completely formed in your mouth. It was a scary thing to ask since the answer could break you down into tears.

“No, no, no…” Joe began slow, but then kept repeating the little word over and over, shaking his head and then diving to climb into bed, lying on top of you and putting his arms around your waist. “I’m not saying that. This is just an adjustment. I didn’t know how big big would be.” He shared, his vulnerability apparent in his eyes as they cast down on you. You reached up to kiss him slowly, letting him know that while your world was changing, you weren’t. You two were still [Y/N] and Joe, same as before.

MAZZ

On one hand, he was living his dream. Being on a real world tour dancing had been something Mazz wanted to do since he was a small boy watching Janet Jackson videos in his living room with his mum. However, he didn’t realize how much bigger he could have and should have been dreaming.

Over the course of rehearsing in London for your highly anticipated world tour, you had grown quite close to Mazz. He caught your eye over the casting call, his shirtless pop lock routine enough to make you ask for a water break after. You literally had fanned yourself when he left the room. However, you two had more than just a mutual appreciation for each other’s bodies. He was full of ambition and drive and you loved that about him. Not to mention, he made you laugh even on the hardest of days on the road. Touring and travelling had caused you deep bouts of loneliness in years past, but as you and Mazz grew very close, you never felt alone.

On the internet, people were dubbing him the luckiest man in the world. After all since your high profile relationship with Miles Teller had ended publically as you broke up with him in the middle of 1OAK and a fellow clubgoer caught it on camera, the world seemed to be waiting to see who you would be with next. At first, Mazz agreed. He was lucky to have you lying beside him every night, to have you holding his hand out in public, and to know the taste of your lips was in fact lemon lime lip balm, but as the tour went on, being ‘Mr. [Y/N]’ began to wear on him.

You were always in the front and he was in the back with the rest of the dancers. The signs in the crowd only boasted your name and he was merely a minor character sometimes mistaken for ‘Max’. You were the star, but he was yearning to burn bright. His jealousy seethed one night, on stage in Dublin, and as you leaned back into him as per the choreography, he pulled back, causing you to nearly stumble over. You tried not to read into it. It could have been a simple misstep, but he never apologized. He didn’t even say anything when you brought it up.

Icing your ankles on the bus, you sat in the middle of the aisle, talking to your publicist and manager as Mazz played Xbox on the couch beside you.

“Is it too late to back out of the MTV Movie Awards?” You asked them, looking up from the stack of papers in your hand with a pained expression. “I just would rather focus on something else.” Plus, it wasn’t your favorite event of the year.

“I would kill to go to that.” Mazz muttered under his breath, but the three of you heard him clearly.

“Well, you can go.” You shrugged and assumed it would be okay if he took your space.

“He isn’t anyone!” Not meaning to be rude, your publicist sharply interjected, earning herself a look of pure hatred from the former YouTube blogger. “I just meant we will have to call. You can’t just give the ticket away.” She corrected herself and gave him a smile to beg for forgiveness.

“Alright, do that. Are there any other events we can pass on?”

Mazz couldn’t believe it. He thought that if he was in your position, he would be going to every party he could, drinking all the champagne in the room, and snapping photos with everyone. He really thought he could do fame better than you and didn’t understand why you weren’t lapping the limelight up. 

sharing is caring (it can be fun); SQ, 8k, explicit

Written for Swan Queen Week 5 prompts, “bed sharing” and “best friend romance”. Set about a year after the season 4 finale.


“Tell me something about yourself.”

Regina turns her head sharply at Emma’s words, eyebrow raising at the sudden request. “Excuse me?”

Emma’s slumped back into the corner of her couch, legs stretched out on the coffee table (Regina’s glares don’t put quite enough fear in her these days, it seems), and she’s picking at the label on her beer bottle with her thumbs. Her head is angled down watching her own movements, but she repeats, “Tell me something about yourself.”

Eyes narrowing, Regina watches Emma closely, an uncomfortable prickling sensation running up her back at the thought of sharing about herself, even after all they’ve been through. Besides, “What is there left to say, Emma?”

Her throat feels thick with the unspoken rest of the sentiment: You know more about me than anyone.

Now Emma looks up, looks over at her, and her thumbs pause in their movement. Emma’s eyes are a little wide, open, and she doesn’t seem drunk but she must be tipsy for her to look so vulnerable.

Regina tries not to scoff at the thought of Emma being the vulnerable one as she asks Regina to spill her secrets.

But Emma keeps looking at her for a while, and then she shrugs. Picks at the label again. “Not—I’m not asking for the big stuff. Just tell me something I don’t know.” Regina’s still staring at her, tucked into the opposite corner of the couch with her feet tucked between the back of the couch and the cushion beneath her, a glass of wine resting on her bent thigh. Emma licks her lips. “Like your favorite color, or something.”

“Why on earth would you need to know that?” Regina’s eyes narrow in confusion and the smallest hint of suspicion.

“Jesus, Regina,” Emma breathes out a laugh, and slips her socked feet from the coffee table to the floor. Angling her body toward Regina, she grips her beer bottle tight in her hands. “What could I possibly do with that infor—” she looks up at Regina and her easy smile fades a little as she quiets. Then, “I don’t know. It’s what friends do. Share.”

Read the rest on AO3 or below.

Keep reading