best picture of the night by far

65 Questions You Aren't Used To

1. Do you ever doubt the existence of others than you?

2. On a scale of 1-5, how afraid of the dark are you?

3. The person you would never want to meet?

4. What is your favorite word?

5. If you were a type of tree, what would you be?

6. When you looked in the mirror this morning what was the first thing you thought?

7. What shirt are you wearing?

8. What do you label yourself as?

9. Bright room or dark room?

10. What were you doing at midnight last night?

11. Favorite age you’ve been so far?

12. Who told you they loved you last?

13. Your worst enemy?

14. What is your current desktop picture?

15. Do you like someone?

16. The last song you listened to?

17. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up?

18. Who would you really like to just punch in the face?

19. If anyone could be your slave for a day, who would it be and what would they have to do?

20. What is your best physical attribute? (showing said attribute is optional)

21. If you were the opposite sex for one day, what would you look like and what would you do?

22. Do you have a secret talent? If yes, what is it?

23. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of?

24. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your disposal.

25. You just found $100! How are you going to spend it?

26. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere in the world, but you have to leave immediately. Where are you going to go?

27. An angel appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. “Be brand-specific” it says. Man! What are you gonna say about that? Even if you don’t drink booze there’s something you can figure out… so what’s it gonna be?

28. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place? 

29. What is your favorite expletive?

30. Your house is on fire, holy shit! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don’t worry, your loved ones and pets have already made it out safely. So what’s the one thing you’re going to save from that blazing inferno?

31. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

32. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check out this cool shit… you can move to anywhere else in the world!

33. The Celestial Gates Of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back?

34. What was your last dream about?

35. Are you a good….[insert anything you’d like here]?

36. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital?

37. Have you ever built a snowman?

38. What is the color of your socks?

39. What type of music do you like?

40. Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets?

41. What is your favorite milkshake flavor?

42. What football team do you support? (I will answer in terms of American football as well as soccer)

43. Do you have any scars?

44. What do you want to be when you graduate?

45. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

46. Are you reliable?

47. If you could ask your future self one question, what would it be?

48. Do you hold grudges?

49. If you could breed two animals together to defy the laws of nature, what new animal would you create?

50. What is the most unusual conversation you’ve ever had?

51. Are you a good liar?

52. How long could you go without talking?

53. What has been you worst haircut/style?

54. Have you ever baked your own cake?

55. Can you do any accents other than your own?

56. What do you like on your toast?

57. What is the last thing you drew a picture of?

58. What would be you dream car?

59. Do you sing in the shower? Or do anything unusual in the shower? Explain.

60. Do you believe in aliens?

61. Do you often read your horoscope?

62. What is your favorite letter of the alphabet?

63. Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons?

64. What do you think about babies?

65. Freebie! Ask anything interesting you can think of.

65 Questions You Aren't Used To

1. Do you ever doubt the existence of others than you?

2. On a scale of 1-5, how afraid of the dark are you?

3. The person you would never want to meet?

4. What is your favorite word?

5. If you were a type of tree, what would you be?

6. When you looked in the mirror this morning what was the first thing you thought?

7. What shirt are you wearing?

8. What do you label yourself as?

9. Bright room or dark room?

10. What were you doing at midnight last night?

11. Favorite age you’ve been so far?

12. Who told you they loved you last?

13. Your worst enemy?

14. What is your current desktop picture?

15. Do you like someone?

16. The last song you listened to?

17. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up?

18. Who would you really like to just punch in the face?

19. If anyone could be your slave for a day, who would it be and what would they have to do?

20. What is your best physical attribute? (showing said attribute is optional)

21. If you were the opposite sex for one day, what would you look like and what would you do?

22. Do you have a secret talent? If yes, what is it?

23. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of?

24. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your disposal.

25. You just found $100! How are you going to spend it?

26. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere in the world, but you have to leave immediately. Where are you going to go?

27. An angel appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. “Be brand-specific” it says. Man! What are you gonna say about that? Even if you don’t drink booze there’s something you can figure out… so what’s it gonna be?

28. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place? 

29. What is your favorite expletive?

30. Your house is on fire, holy shit! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don’t worry, your loved ones and pets have already made it out safely. So what’s the one thing you’re going to save from that blazing inferno?

31. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

32. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check out this cool shit… you can move to anywhere else in the world!

33. The Celestial Gates Of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back?

34. What was your last dream about?

35. Are you a good….[insert anything you’d like here]?

36. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital?

37. Have you ever built a snowman?

38. What is the color of your socks?

39. What type of music do you like?

40. Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets?

41. What is your favorite milkshake flavor?

42. What football team do you support? (I will answer in terms of American football as well as soccer)

43. Do you have any scars?

44. What do you want to be when you graduate?

45. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

46. Are you reliable?

47. If you could ask your future self one question, what would it be?

48. Do you hold grudges?

49. If you could breed two animals together to defy the laws of nature, what new animal would you create?

50. What is the most unusual conversation you’ve ever had?

51. Are you a good liar?

52. How long could you go without talking?

53. What has been you worst haircut/style?

54. Have you ever baked your own cake?

55. Can you do any accents other than your own?

56. What do you like on your toast?

57. What is the last thing you drew a picture of?

58. What would be you dream car?

59. Do you sing in the shower? Or do anything unusual in the shower? Explain.

60. Do you believe in aliens?

61. Do you often read your horoscope?

62. What is your favorite letter of the alphabet?

63. Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons?

64. What do you think about babies?

65. Freebie! Ask anything interesting you can think of.

Send me an Old Hollywood actor
  • Jean Harlow: Do you have a garden? If so, what kind of plants do you have?
  • Humphrey Bogart: Do you travel a lot? Where have you been?
  • Myrna Loy: Do you like going to parties?
  • Spencer Tracy: What time do you wake up?
  • Grace Kelly: What do you do when you're bored?
  • Jimmy Stewart: Do you have a good sense of humor?
  • Veronica Lake: List some random facts about your physical appearance.
  • Gary Cooper: Do you talk a lot?
  • Jean Arthur: Do you have any siblings?
  • Clark Gable: Are you an introvert or an extrovert? A bit of both? Something else entirely?
  • Barbara Stanwyck: What are your hobbies?
  • Cary Grant: Do you have any pets? Have you ever had any?
  • Gene Tierney: What are three things you like about yourself?
  • Bing Crosby: Can you sing or play a musical instrument? Would you like to?
  • Katharine Hepburn: Who do you admire? Why?
  • Fred Astaire: What are your favorite sports?
  • Ginger Rogers: Is there anything you've said that you'd like to take back?
  • Gregory Peck: What is your dream job?
  • Audrey Hepburn: What are your favorite quotes?
  • Donald O'Connor: What is your favorite ice cream/sorbet flavor?
  • Carole Lombard: What makes you laugh?
  • William Powell: Describe your hairstyle.
  • Bette Davis: Do you hold grudges?
  • Frank Sinatra: What countries would you like to visit?
  • Lauren Bacall: Do you like to read? If so, what are your favorite books?
  • James Cagney: What would you call your autobiography?
  • Rita Hayworth: What is your middle name?
  • Peter Lorre: How many languages do you speak?
  • Irene Dunne: What does your neutral face look like?
  • Henry Fonda: If you could do anything for anyone, what would you do?
  • Lucille Ball: What are some of your favorite jokes?
  • Jack Lemmon: What is/was your favorite subject in school?
  • Marilyn Monroe: Do you like your name? Why or why not?
  • Gene Kelly: What color are your eyes?
  • Greta Garbo: Do you get sick easily or a lot?
  • Joel McCrea: Describe your laugh.
  • Debbie Reynolds: What are you afraid of?
  • Dick Powell: Are you a night owl or a morning person?
  • Elizabeth Taylor: What is your religion?
  • S.Z. "Cuddles" Sakall: What was the best year of your life so far?
  • Joan Bennett: Do you worry much about your appearance?
  • Robert Taylor: Describe your family.
  • Eleanor Powell: Describe your bedroom and post a picture if you want.
  • George Burns: List some random facts about yourself in general.
  • Gracie Allen: What is your shoe size?
  • Montgomery Clift: How tall are you?
  • Lana Turner: What are you allergic to anything?
  • Paul Henreid: Are you a coffee person or a tea person?
  • Hedy Lamarr: As a child, did you have one article of clothing that you absolutely loved (like wouldn't take it off type of thing)? What was it?
  • Claude Rains: Do you wear makeup on a daily basis?
  • Cyd Charisse: If you had to describe yourself in only a few lines, what would you say?
  • Peter Lawford: What are your pet peeves?
  • Vera-Ellen: Who are you jealous of?
  • Buster Keaton: Are you easily offended?
  • Paulette Goddard: Give a sample of your handwriting.
  • Bob Hope: Do you have any dietary restrictions (vegan, vegetarian, gluten-free, Kosher, etc.)?
  • Dorothy Lamour: Say what are you live in, but be broad (e.g.: American Southwest, Maritimes, Central Europe, North America…)
  • Charlie Chaplin: What kind of people get on your nerves?
  • Ruby Keeler: What are your gender and preferred set of pronouns?
  • Tyrone Power: Do you have any stuffed animals? What kind of animals are they? What are their names?
  • Joan Blondell: Are you at all nostalgic or sentimental?
  • Ronald Colman: Do you know any songs/poems/passages from novels or stories by heart? What are they?
  • Ingrid Bergman: Are you good at doing impressions of people?
  • Mickey Rooney: What book are you reading at the moment?
  • Judy Garland: Do you believe in an Afterlife?
  • Groucho Marx: Do you tend to be sarcastic/ironic?
  • Jeanette MacDonald: Do you prefer warm or cold weather?
  • Harpo Marx: Do you talk a lot? Too much?
  • Joan Crawford: Write a poem describing one or many of these three things: your eyebrows, a baked potato, a yellow tie-dye sock.
  • Chico Marx: Can you change your voice/fake accents?
  • Mary Martin: Can you cook/bake at all?
  • Zeppo Marx: Do you think you're funny?
  • Mary Tyler Moore: What are your parents' first names?
  • Edward G. Robinson: Draw a self portrait.
  • Doris Day: Who do you miss?
  • Dick Van Dyke: Can you sew/knit/crochet/etc.?
  • Janet Leigh: What are some things that you feel guilty being happy about?
  • Basil Rathbone: What is one belief/conviction you'll never give up?
[20 q’s | jungkook]

♛BTS!SMUT

summary; 20 questions ends pretty well for you, you’d say. (gender neutral!)

You froze. You couldn’t fathom how one second you could be shocked and disgusted by him and the next trying to get your heart to slow down.


The epitome of a fuckboy.

You couldn’t deny the fact that you loved him- he was enticing, charming, and unnervingly sweet when he wanted to be.

When he wanted to be.

Other times, he was sickeningly frustrating- whether that was caused by how undeniably hot he was or how undeniably fucking annoying.

Jungkook [11:19]: Wanna play a game?

You sighed, swiping open your phone and praising God you didn’t have read receipts on. Although after pondering for a while, you decided that you should probably respond to the boy. It wasn’t like you were busy studying- your exam week was finished- what was the harm?

You [11:21]: What is this game exactly?

The response was quick, your phone buzzing almost immediately after you locked in.

Jungkook [11:21]: 20 questions.

Of course. The fuckboy game.

You scoffed. You had known Jungkook for upwards of three years, so why did he even want to play 20 questions?

Regardless of reasons, you were entertaining a boring night. What was the harm?

Keep reading

Sketch || Jughead Jones

Request from @carmineofmidgardHey !!i was wondering if you could write something with artist!reader x jughead fluff ? These are some Van Gogh quotes that I like, you could use them as like prompts: Art is to console those who are broken by life.

A/N: This my first oneshot ever written! I hope this fulfills your request!

Gif by @juptern

—————

“Art is to console those who are broken by life.” -Vincent Van Gogh

Saying you’ve had a tough life was an understatement. Your father had left the family when you were very little to be with his secretary leaving you and your mom alone. Your mom, while you adored her, kept pushing for you to become a doctor. She wanted you to have a successful and self-sustaining career; one that she never got to have. You on the other hand wanted to be an artist. Ever since your dad left, you loved to draw pictures of fantasy. Castles, dragons, princesses, and princes. Anything that could draw your mind away from your mom crying at night and less frequent phone calls from your happy father was a plus. Eventually, your drawings evolved into portraits. Well, secret portraits. You drew almost everyone in the school, but no one more than Jughead Jones III. Jughead fascinated you, and truth be told, you had a crush on him. How you could crush on someone that you knew nothing about and who didn’t even know your name was anyone’s best guess. As far as you could tell, the only thing you and Jughead had in common was the fact that you were both loners. That’s it.

You and Jughead had off fifth period and you both spent that time in the library, but not sitting next to each other or even near each other. Unfortunately, Reggie and his group also hung out in the library. It was an average Friday and you had just sat down in your chair in the library when Jughead came in, sitting in a chair across the room from you. Just as you pulled your sketchbook to draw, he pulled out his laptop to write. What he was writing, you had no idea. You began to draw the simple outlines of his face, gently moving your pen along the paper. You bit your lip and furrowed your eyebrows and you attempted to capture his facial structure and his emotions. You were so immersed with your drawing that you didn’t notice Reggie peering of your shoulder wearing a wolfish grin. He waited for the librarian to leave the room to copy some papers before he stood up and made his way over to you. Within the span of a second, Reggie quickly pulled the sketchbook from your hands, loudly proclaiming,

“Well, what do we have here, Y/N?”

Everyone in the library looked up from what they were doing, including Jughead. In a flash, you were on your feet, attempting to get your sketchbook back from Reggie.

“Give it back, Reggie!”

Reggie chortled as he looked through your sketches. He had struck gold.

“Everyone, look! Y/N’s got a thing for Norman Bates over here!”

Reggie held up your sketches for everyone to see. Panic and embarrassment flooded your senses and tears began to well up in your eyes as everyone began to laugh at you. Everywhere you looked you could see people laughing. Then you made eye contact with Jughead. He wasn’t laughing. He wasn’t even smiling. He was looking at you intensely, but he wasn’t glaring. There was a look of concern there as well. It was too much for you to bear and you quickly ran out of the library, down the hallway, and out of the school. Knowing you couldn’t go home without your mother knowing you were skipping class, you began the trek to Pop’s.

Pop knew you were upset the moment you walked into the diner. You were always so exuberant, always saying hello and asking him about his family first chance you got. But now? You were silent. Pop looked over at you and smiled softly.

“You want the usual?”

You nodded and sat in one of the booths, your back facing the door. Pop came over with a chocolate milkshake.

“It’s on me.” Pop said and winked.

You smiled gratefully at him and slowly sipped the milkshake, the familiar taste bringing you some relief. Then you remembered you left your backpack in the library. Your sketchbook. Reggie probably still had it. He was probably running copies of your sketches of Jughead to put up all over the school to humiliate you as much as he could. You felt the hot sting of tears coming back as you remembered the laughs and Jughead’s stare and quickly wiped them away. You didn’t know how long you were sitting there, just thinking about the day’s events before a jingle sounded out around the diner as the front door opened. You didn’t pay much attention to it, swirling your straw around the almost empty glass before you heard something being placed down on the floor beside you. You looked to your side and saw your backpack along with a figure standing right next to you. You knew those black pants and shoes. You froze as you realized who it was and slowly looked up, making eye contact for the second time that day with Jughead Jones III who had your sketchbook in his hand.

“I believe this is yours,” he said as he handed it to you.

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you shakily took the sketchbook back.

“Y/N, right?”

You nodded.

“Yes.”

Your quiet voice was raw from crying and Jughead took notice. He gestured to the seat in front of you.

“Can I sit?”

You nodded, not trusting your own voice. With a quiet “thanks,” he took a seat and the two of you were silent for a moment. You swallowed again. You had to say something.

“How did you know where I was?”

You mentally smacked yourself. Really, out of everything you could’ve said, that’s what your brain came up with? Jughead raised his eyebrows at you.

“I didn’t actually. I came here because I was gonna grab a bite to eat before dropping your stuff off at your house.”

Your cheeks became bright red as you imagined Jughead in your house. Not that you’ve fantasized about that way too many times.

“Well, um, thank you. For giving me back my sketchbook and backpack and all,” you said. “How did you get them back?”

You remembered Reggie’s mean laugh as he held the sketchbook above your head and flinched at the memory. Jughead chuckled at your question.

“It wasn’t easy, let’s just say that.”

You smiled for the first time since the morning and looked down.

“They’re really good,” Jughead said.

You looked up at him inquisitively.

“Your sketches I mean.”

Your heart plunged to your stomach again as you remembered his stare across the room. You looked down again.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “It probably looks like I’m some weird stalker or something.”

You were silent as you waited for his response.

“Aw, that’s a shame,” Jughead said and you looked up at him again, confused by his nonchalant response. “I was kinda hoping you were. Would’ve made a great storyline for my novel.”

He smirked at you and you, realizing he was joking, smiled along with him. Jughead pointed at your empty glass.

“Can I buy you another milkshake?”

You smiled.

“I’d like that.”

—————

A/N: I hope that was okay! Let me know what you thought!

Shape of You

Alright so here’s the start of a new AU!

Nesta hasn’t seen her sisters in almost a year. When she’s invited back to their lake house for a long weekend, Feyre insists she brings the boyfriend she’s told her about. The only problem is, he doesn’t exist. 

So out of desperation, her friend sets her up with Cassian. Somehow a weekend filled with fake hand holding and kisses, turns Nesta back into the girl she was before Tomas had destroyed her and the relationship she had with her sisters.



Chapter 1

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck,” I slammed my laptop shut as I threw my pen across the room. Of course my sisters would decide to have a start of summer weekend at the lake. And of course they would call me out for the lies I told them about the boy I met while here in the city.

It had been almost six months since I had last seen my sisters. I moved to the city as soon as I could, as soon as I found a job that would help me pay my half of the rent. I wanted out of that small town, I had to walk away before the memories, the ghosts haunted me forever. The city was my fresh start and even though neither of them understood, they let me go.

Feyre and I talked at least once a month on the phone. She kept asking me how I was doing and she told me that Tomas still asked about me. What she didn’t understand, even though I always changed the subject, was that I didn’t want to know about Tomas. I didn’t want to know about anyone in that small ass town because they were the reason why I left. The only reason I talked to Feyre was to check up on her and Elain.

They were the only family I had left. They were the only ones who mattered.

Sure I missed them. I missed my sisters, but it wasn’t enough to make me go visit home. I wasn’t homesick, I was content here in the city, in this new life I had made for myself. I loved my job at the bookstore. I loved the fact that I could walk everywhere and that things were open well into the night. But most of all I loved the fact that no one knew me. They didn’t know the secrets that had been whispered behind my back. They didn’t know how Tomas had tried to ruin me.

They didn’t know that he had almost won that war.

I read Feyre’s email again. Our lake house, the only thing our father had left to us. The lake house that had sat unused for years until we were old enough to realize the benefits of having that big house that sat right there at the water. The only reason we still owned it was because it was completely paid off. That and somehow Feyre and her fiancee were able to keep up with it.

The lake house where so many things had happened. So many things hadn’t happened too. There had been parties, there had been underage drinking. But mostly there had been tears. From me.

I pushed away those memories and looked at my computer. What was I supposed to do? I had started the lie to make my sister feel better. For her to think I wasn’t all alone out here in the city. Because she didn’t understand that I wanted to be alone. I didn’t want to be with someone who hurt me, who could destroy me. Not after I had been with Tomas for so long.

But I couldn’t tell her that truth. Not when I had fed her enough lies to make this boyfriend seem real. She was happy for me, she didn’t worry about me because she thought I had someone taking care of me. I didn’t need someone to take care of me. Just like I knew Feyre didn’t need her fiancee to take care of her. But it was nice knowing she had someone steady. She had someone real after the horrors that Tamlin had dealt her.

My sisters didn’t know about Tomas. They didn’t really know much about why I wanted to leave. It had been different when our parents died. I could’ve left and they would’ve understood. But I stayed until they were finished high school and then when Feyre announced she was getting married last year I up and left. I didn’t even say goodbye I just left a letter explaining I needed to find my own way now that they were both able to take care of themselves.

I pulled my hair hard, trying to stop the tears from filling my eyes. I didn’t cry, not easily. But I got teary eyed when I was frustrated. I couldn’t tell them the truth. So what was I supposed to do? I squeezed my eyes shut and the door to my apartment opened.

“Fuck me this can’t be happening.”

“Nesta!” I jumped at Rita’s voice, “you seem agitated.”

I met my roommate Rita at the bookstore. She was leaving for another job and I said something about needing a place to stay. We hit it off right away and I didn’t hate living with her. Sure our apartment was small, smaller than the home I had shared with my two sisters. But it was ours, I paid rent and I had my own room. Rita didn’t nag me about my mess and I didn’t nag her about hers.

We were good roommates. We got along and we left each other alone when we knew the other needed space. We were friends, but we were almost roommates. We didn’t get in each other’s business unless there was a reason to. I had gotten lucky.

I groaned, "my sisters want to have a long weekend at the lake.”

“Oh fun!”

“Not when you’ve been lying about having a boyfriend. And they want you to bring him along.”

Rita laughed, “oh shit I forgot. Damn what are you going to do?”

I shook my head, “I’ll think of something.”

I leaned back in my chair and Rita watched me. She raised an eyebrow and smiled, “I might know someone who can help.”

“No. The last guy you introduced me to was disgusting.”

His name was Adam and he was a hipster to end all hipsters. His hair was dirty and his glasses were round. They didn’t even have frames, and he spoke in riddles. I didn’t even spend five minutes in his presence. I found an excuse to leave, I texted Rita and told her to call me, and up and left him high and dry at the coffee shop we met at.

Rita laughed, “I’m sorry okay. I thought you’d get along. But you’ll like this one. Should I have him meet you? Even if he’s not the brightest, he’s easy on the eyes.”

She wiggled her eyebrows at me and I couldn’t help but laugh. I bit my lip, was I that desperate?

“Really? Your advice is that I hire someone to be my boyfriend for the weekend?”

She shrugged as she set her bag on the counter, “it’s either that or tell them the truth, Nes. I’m not sure which is worse since you seem so opposed to letting your sisters believe you have someone in your life.”

I winced. Rita never told me what to do, she never scolded me for lying to my sisters. But I knew she was right. If I was so okay with being alone, and I swore I was, then why did I feel the need to please my little sister? I’m sure there was some therapist who would say I really wasn’t okay being alone and that some part of me wanted someone around.

But I wouldn’t believe them. Because I didn’t need anyone, I only needed myself. But I didn’t want my sisters to worry. I didn’t want them to think I left them because they were a burden. They are my sisters and I will always be there for them. But it’s my turn to have a life. It’s my turn to find where I’m supposed to be.

I looked at Rita, she was texting someone. She sat down on the couch and I looked at the picture of the three of us. The only picture I had on my desk of us when I was five and they were babies. I was always there, always taking care of them. They were my best friends, before that night drove us apart. Before that night pushed me so far away from everyone else that I couldn’t find my way back to them.

I didn’t want them to ask about it. I didn’t want them to think they needed to figure me out. If I had someone with me they would direct the attention to him. They would ask him about his life and how we met and what we did, instead of berating me with questions about why I left.

I let out a slow breath and Rita looked at me. She smiled slightly, like she already knew what I was about to say. My cheeks were red as I let the thoughts settle and I nodded my head slowly.

“Fine,” I gritted my teeth as I looked at the clock, “tell your friend to meet me at Luke’s diner in five minutes.”

“He’s already on his way. Trust me you’ll like him. He’s big and handsome,” her eyes got wide as if she had a crush on him herself, “he’s just your type.”

I rolled my eyes and stood up, “if he’s a hipster I swear to god I’ll kill you.”

Rita’s laugh followed me as I grabbed my purse and headed out the door. I walked down the steps, my heart pounding as I opened the door to our building. The sun was warm, the weather had already started to turn to summer. But goosebumps pricked my skin as I thought about hiring someone to lie to my family.

It wasn’t lying. It was pretending. My sister would bring her fiancee, I’m sure Elain had someone. I couldn’t remember if she told me about someone important. His name started with an L? Or maybe it was a C. She didn’t talk much whenever Feyre put her on the phone, but she told me bits and pieces of her life. Elain was the most upset when they found me gone.

I felt guilty every time she called.

But I knew with Feyre came Rhys and with Rhys came his friends. Azriel the quiet one who followed Rhys’s cousin everywhere she went. Feyre told me they were finally opening up to the idea of dating and while I was happy for them all, they were one big happy family, I knew that meant I would be the odd one out. I always was the odd one out, the one who didn’t fit in. The girl who stood alone and never had someone there beside her.

I wanted this weekend, now that I knew about it, to be fun. I wanted them to see me as the Nesta I always was, not the girl I had turned into after that terrible night. The night I was running from. The night I would do anything and everything to forget.

I rubbed my hands up and down my arms as I rounded the corner and the diner came into view. I realized as I walked towards it that I wanted to go home. I wanted to go to the lake and see my sisters and the family they had made for themselves. But I didn’t want to go alone.

Sue me I still had some feelings. I still had some pride I suppose.

I walked into the diner and the bell above the door sounded. Luke, the owner, stood behind the counter and smiled at me. I nodded in greeting, my eyes sweeping the tables. I knew which one was waiting for me as soon as my eyes landed on him. I stood there for a moment too long and contemplated turning around.

He was a big hulking man, his dark hair was long. He looked warm, his skin glowing in the harsh lights of the diner. His black shirt fit perfectly over his arms and his chest. He took up enough space that my eyes couldn’t wander away from them if they tried. My heart stopped, his eyes landing on me before I could make a run for it. Before I could decide this was a terrible choice and I should just tell my sisters the truth.

“Well hello sweetheart,” he stood up and half his mouth tilted in a smile. He could’ve been attractive, if he cut his hair.

I pulled my chair out, “I’m Nesta.”

He licked his lips, “you can call me Cassian,” his eyes sparkled. Like they were hiding something he was dying for me to find out.

“Right well. I take it Rita told you why I’m here.”

He coughed, “something about you being in need of a male escort to the lake this weekend.”

I winced, “a friend,” I tried wondering if I could go through with this, “to make my sisters stop asking me why I don’t have a boyfriend okay? Can you do that? Pretend?”

Amusement filled his eyes. He tried to fight the smile that tugged at his lips, but when it didn’t stop he ran his finger along his chin. He looked down at his hands and I could tell he was thinking about more than just agreeing to helping me. Hell we didn’t know each other, we had just met and I asked him to date me. Even if it was fake, even if he was helping me, this was still weird.

Me and my stupid pride. I was about to take back the offer and tell him to forget it, that I had a mental breakdown and this was all just the biggest embarrassing moment of my life.

But then Cassian nodded slowly, “you know I’m surprise you don’t have a boyfriend. You’re cute and I know a few guys who like bossy.”

I rolled my eyes, “wow that was super helpful,” I glared at him, my hands were shaking. I shoved them under my legs as I waited to hear his answer, “you can just say no. Rita said you were single and I thought maybe you’d want a free trip to the lake for a weekend. I thought maybe…”

I stopped. I almost thought we could be friends. But I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood, stopping myself form wishing for something I could never have. I didn’t let myself get close to people, not after Tomas wedged between me and my sisters. Not since that night when he destroyed all the threads of trust I had ever had.

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t help you. I just said I’m surprised you aren’t taken,” he smiled then, he liked watching me squirm. He leaned back and stretched his arms over his head. His shirt rode up slightly and I saw the dark markings of a tattoo that disappeared beneath the waistband of his jeans.

“Cassian.”

He wiggled his eyebrows, “well how can I say no when you say my name like that?”

He watched me for a moment as relief flooded through me. As much as I hated this I felt better once he said he would help me. I hated having to lie because everyone thought I couldn’t handle life without Tomas. Except I broke up with him. And I moved here, far away from my family to have the life I wanted.

"What do I get for helping you?” He finally asked, his deep voice smooth as he propped his elbow on the table, then leaned his head on his hand. He kept staring at me and it felt like his honey brown eyes could see into my soul.

I looked down at his hands. His skin was golden, a little darker. He looked like he was carved of stone, like he could’ve been a Greek god in another lifetime. A piece of brown hair fell in his eyes and I wanted to push it back. I let out a breath. I hadn’t thought this far.

“I’ll pay you,” I finally said. I didn’t have a lot but I could do something, “it won’t be much. But you’ll get a four day weekend at the lake house. Meals and showers and everything included.”

Cassian seemed to think it over. He nodded his head, "how much?”

“$100.”

“I know I look cheap, but I won’t act like your boyfriend for a hundred dollars, Nesta.”

“$200?”

He shook his head, “you’ll have to do better than that.”

I blew out a breath, “$500. That’s my final offer.”

He reached across the table and touched my hand. His skin was warm and a spark shot down my arm. He ran his thumb over the back of my hand, “well sweetheart you’ve got yourself a deal.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart,” I snapped. My eyes narrowed.

He laughed, “well I guess we should make some ground rules.”

“The first one is no pet names. Nesta,“ I pointed at me, "Cassian. Got it?”

He sighed, “sure sweetheart.”

He wasn’t going to make this easy. I could tell as he continued to smile, his eyes lighting up as I glared at him. It was like he thought I was a challenge, like he wanted to defy everything I was saying. He licked his lips, his fingers tapping on the table as I thought through what other boundaries we needed to establish. I didn’t realize this would all happen so fast. The weekend would be here in two days and somehow I had managed to find myself a boyfriend to fill the empty role.

Feyre would love Cassian. He was everything I would never want in a boyfriend. He was the complete opposite of Tomas and I couldn’t stop letting that sway me. He was big and dark, whereas Tomas was small and light. Cassian was full of mystery, but not the kind that Tomas carried with him. Cassian seemed honorable, Tomas had just been pure evil.

I let out a slow breath and pulled my hands off the table so he wouldn’t try to touch me again. I couldn’t stop feeling that spark going down my spine. I couldn’t stop wondering why exactly I had wanted this in the first place. I shook my head and finally brought my eyes back up to his.

“Okay so I’ve got some rules. First we hold hands if someone else is in the room. No touching if we’re alone, because honestly there’s no reason for it. You’re there to make me look good. You can kiss my cheek, but nothing more. We aren’t big on public displays of affection. My sister and her fiancé are, but that’s another story,” I rolled my eyes. Feyre and Rhys could barely keep their hands off each other. I hated being stuck in a room with them.

My cheeks turned pink and my mouth went dry, “we will probably have to share a room, you sleep on the floor. We don’t share the room if the other is changing. Make sure you bring enough clothes to sleep in and a bathing suit.”

Cassian nodded, "fine. But you want this to be believable. So you’re forgetting one thing.”

“What?”

He smiled and it would’ve knocked me to my knees if I wasn’t already sitting. I had a feeling I wasn’t going to make it through the weekend alive. I had a feeling this new friend of mine was going to try and climb the walls I had built this last year. Like he thought he could break down the shell I had surrounded myself inside.

HIs brown eyes danced as he looked at me, his crooked smile in place, ”the story of how we met.“

anonymous asked:

"So you have a photo of me with a prostitute. So what". For whatever pairing you want

I DID NOT FORGET THIS. I got stuck real bad and it took a while to get back to writing; sorry to keep you waiting. So, here; Schnee family drama with Monochrome mention.


Weiss watched the way her father paced in front of the fireplace, never once allowing her posture to falter. The study’s walls once felt stifling and oppressive, the eyes in the paintings all looking down upon her, the busts judging her as well- mental tricks she’d outgrown, but ones he still wished to play, hoping that setting the field in his favor would improve the outcome. She’d only seen him this incensed once before, and that was back when he still worried about being caught raising a hand to his children; she doubted this fiasco would turn out any better. A stab of phantom pain attempted to close her left eye but she muscled through it, tilting her chin up when his furious gaze fell on her, the folder in his hand held up between them.

They’d done this song and dance far too many times. Ever since he assumed the office of Governor after her grandfather’s term ended, the man had done everything in his power to portray the family exactly as he wanted them to appear to the press. Every movement was measured, every faltering step remarked upon endlessly, and she’d grown up fully expecting that she had no other choice but to walk the path he’d mapped out for her, to one day assume the office herself and continue the Schnees’ impressive hold over the state. That meant she could be nothing short of perfect, entirely scandal free, and beyond reproach on every front. The whole routine exhausted her but she kept up appearances well enough, though his irrational barking occurred more frequently now. He had to know she was faking it by this point and he was purposely pushing her, seeing if she’d break and allow him to remold her into the image he desired for her.

But she was never quite as brittle as he thought.

Keep reading

Auston Matthews - Part 23

Little shorter than my usual posts, but setting up for the real fun starting next post

My mom leaves me staring after her with a dumbfounded expression on my face. Wha… what? I look absentmindedly around my room, at a complete loss of what to do and seeing the time glaring back at me, decide to just get into bed. I call my two pups into the room and snuggle down into my covers with them on either side of me, my two little personal heaters.

               My mind wanders to Auston, I don’t have to wonder what he’s currently doing because my phone is still going off at regular intervals of pictures of him sent by either Marner, Nylander or one of the other several player who seem to have my number now. Auston sends me them too, though his aren’t every thirty seconds. My phone vibrates from a text and I swipe down for look at it.

               R u awake?

               I smile when I see who it’s from.

               Nope, sleep texting

               Smartass

               How was dinner?

               I don’t really think u need to ask that. U were pretty much there with all the snapping.

               True, your chicken looked delicious

               I didn’t send you any pictures of my chicken

               I know

               Jesus. Is there anything they didn’t send you?

               Nudes

               There’s a minute before he responds and I wonder if I went too far. Then the little bubbles pop up and I relax.

               Thank god for that, I would hate killing my best friends.

               I giggle and roll onto my back, my eyes are getting tired.

               Well they r safe for the night

               Ur getting tired

               How do u know that?

               U never abbreviate words or forget punctuation

               Oh

               Go to bed

               No

               Ok

               I’m going to bed

               Then y did u say no???

               Don’t tell me what to do

               I giggle again when he sends me a bunch of the exasperated emojis.

               Night Auston

               Night Y/N

               I stare at my screen for a few moments, my heart fluttering against my ribs and I try to figure out why. There wasn’t really any flirting, just conversation yet my heart is beating like he really did send me nudes. I click my screen off and shove my phone under the pillow, determined to fall asleep without thinking about the stupid boy.

               Two days pass a lot faster than I would have thought possible. Now I’m standing outside the house I grew up in, looking at all the grandness of it one more time before I get into my waiting car, with a trail of my parents SUV a handful of family and friends, all with their cars packed to the brim as well and a hauling truck bringing up the rear. My parents are in their respective vehicles, letting me have my moment. We had said our goodbyes last night.

               I had just gotten off the phone with Auston and had only been asleep for a few minutes when my father gently shook me awake. Silently he had taken my hand and pulled me downstairs, helped me put on my coat and then we went outside hand in hand. Perched on our usual spot on the picnic table, we sat side by side in silence for several hours, our eyes on the sky and silent tears rolling down our cheeks. We didn’t need words to communicate.

               Now, standing outside the home that I had learned to walk, there was a sizeable dent in the master bedroom doorframe from one of my failed attempts at that. My eyes trail to the driveway to my right, where I had skinned by knees more times than I can count trying to play street hockey and riding my bike. None of these things made me sad to think about, though tears did come, they were just memories trailing down my cheeks, making room for even more beautiful memories to come.

               The drive over to Canada goes without any difficultly and before I know it, I’m standing outside my new house. My two dogs are already bounding around in the few inches of snow that must have just fallen, within moments it looks like I own two little polar bears instead of two labs. The house is nicer than I had thought, built less than five years ago, it fits in with the few newer houses littering the block. I can’t help but grin at myself. This is my home.

               The next four hours are spent with my parents and various friends and relatives unloading the U-Haul and other vehicles lined up on the street. I mostly just stand in the foyer and point people in the right direction with boxes and pieces of furniture, I feel extremely lazy just watching but there’s so many people that they need direction. I’m amazed at how quickly everything is brought inside and I have never been more grateful that my grandparents own a home renovation company and over the years they have been putting various pieces of furniture to the side for me and my cousins. Most everything that is now taking up space in my house I didn’t have to pay a dime for.

               The only time that my happiness falters is when I glimpse my parents, the pain of leaving them so great I don’t know how I don’t fall over. Once the last of the boxes have been moved inside, the majority of my family and friends leave until it’s just my parents and me. They stand at the bottom of the stairs as I make my way down to them, their fingers entwined and my heart pangs in my chest. I could never imagine being in love like my parents are.

               I reach the bottom of the stairs, my hand lingering on the banister, I open my mouth to say something but nothing comes out and I reach for my parents. They embrace me and I bury my head into my father’s chest. Not caring in the slightest that I’m a full grown adult and hugging them like I did when I was five years old.

               This time I don’t sob like I expect to, my tears are all dried out. Instead I try to memorize everything I can about them, their smell and the crinkles by my mom’s eyes, the result of smiling more than the average human, the rough stubble of my dad’s beard and the gray streaks in his hair that he always tries to blame on me.

               “Alright, time for your first home picture,” my mom finally says, her hand running through my hair once more before putting her hand on my shoulder and I take a step back, my hand still firmly in my fathers.

               I join them on the porch, taking my place by the front door as my mom takes my phone and hers out into the lawn, my dad following. I beam at the camera and throw my hands out to either side of me, my two dogs make an appearance at just the right time and make the picture.

               “Beautiful as always,” my dad says from my mother’s side.

               “You didn’t even see the picture,” I roll my eyes at him, returning to his side. He quickly ducks me under his arm and gives me a noogie, I squeal and try to swat his hand away.

               “Don’t need to look to know,” he says and I can’t help but grin at him as I try to smooth my hair back out.

               “It’s time kid,” my dad says gruffly and I know this has to be harder for them than it is for me.

               My mom joins us on the lawn, the snow sitting in her hair like a halo, her arms encircle me and then my dad’s cover hers.

               “I love you so much,” I whisper.

               “We love you too baby, more than you know,” my mom whispers back, I can feel her wet tears falling into my hair.

               “Proud doesn’t even begin to cover it,” dad chimes in, his voice even more gruff than before and my heart twinges.

               I meet my father’s eyes, swimming with tears and I think back to that very first night under the stars, he gave me everything I could have ever asked for, and I tell him so.

               “No, Y/N, I introduced you to it, you made it into something beautiful,” he grazes me cheek with his knuckles and I lean into his hand.

               “I love you,” I repeat, he winks at me and his hand drops from my face, taking my mom’s hand instead, tugging her gently towards the car.

               She kisses my forehead once more and pats the heads of the two dogs bouncing around in the snow before climbing into the passenger seat of the SUV. I close her door gently and she rolls down the window. Though don’t say anything more. We can’t.

               I watch them pull away from the curb, down the street and around the corner. I stand there several more minutes, staring into the distance before turning and looking at my house. I stuff my hands in my pockets and whistle for my dogs, walking up the front steps and through my front door.

               Getting set in the kitchen is first on my list, my family offered to stay and help unpack the boxes but I refused. There was no way I was letting someone have all the fun of organizing my house. My phone buzzes the moment I touch the first box and I let out a frustrated sigh. Really?

               I snatch up my phone and my annoyance fades away immediately. I had sent the picture my mom took of me to Auston and he had finally responded.

               You know I always had a thing for older, responsible women

               Haven’t you always had a thing for me?

               My point exactly

               I giggle and lean against my counter, opening my snapchat and sending a picture of my T.V already set up in the living room, which was the only thing I had allowed anyone to touch because I knew I would mess it up somehow. I caption it “So you can’t yell at me for not watching your game again” and send it to Auston. Last week I had watched the Detroit game that was playing at the same time as the Toronto one and boy had I heard about it from not only Auston but every Leaf’s player that had my number.

               I open my text messages again and type out a response.

               Are you calling me old??

               Little bit, but im into it.

               I roll my eyes and another message from Auston appears.

               Ur rolling ur eyes right now aren’t u?

               Little bit

               I can think of other ways to make them roll

               A tingle goes through my spine and I blush even though there is no one around.

               I don’t think it’s exactly fair that you can say that kind of stuff but I can’t…

               Says the girl who just the other day said that she slept naked in my childhood bed!

               Touché.

               A snapchat notification pops up and I click it open, seeing a picture of Auston’s shoes and I know he’s on the bus heading to the arena for the game against San Jose tonight. “Good girl” it’s captioned and I roll my eyes again.

               Alright, we just got to the arena, I’m guessing u’ll be asleep by the time I’m able to call u. So I’ll see u tomorrow?

                Another tingle shoots through my spine at the thought of finally seeing Auston tomorrow. For the last twelve days all I’ve been able to do is imagine his lips against mine and… Other things.

               Depends, your rule still in place?

               Of course

               Then I can’t wait

               There’s a pause between messages.

               You are literally the worst

               I just send a kissy face emoji and receive an unimpressed one in response. I grin, pleased with myself and set my phone back down on the counter. I eye my dogs who are already lounging on the sectional couch.

               “Hey! Get to work!” I call to them and they just flick their ears in my direction and give a “really mom?” expression. I scoff at them and turn back the first box I see, now is when the fun begins.

2

during still breathing billie joe leaned out so far to the audience and i managed to get these beautiful pictures (please credit if you use them)!! there is no zoom just me stretching my arms out as far as I physically could!! honestly the best night of my life, didn’t think they could get any better than the two times i’ve seen them before but of course they did! absolutely love this band and will die a hardcore green day fan ❤️

Well I did a fit test last night, but unfortunately no one was awake to take a picture of me, and my selfie stick was out of batteries. So here’s the best I could do with my phone before that died too XD I’m fairly happy with the costume so far. It will definitely be getting improvements after PAX - LEDs, but also some minor things that I didn’t get to.

Leaving for PAX soon. I’m also bringing the black knight, which I’ll wear on Friday and then it’ll be the Abyss Watcher the rest of the time. Sadly, Tyrael couldn’t fit in my car because we have 5 people, so it’ll have to wait another year (I do seriously want to bring the wings back though. It will happen, I promise.)

after

At some point in the long night he’d dozed off on the couch, but he’s awakened by the same lights.

Closer.

For days they’ve been circling the lake further out, past where Lockport used to be. Now they’re almost overhead, glaring down on the roof of a deserted house just a half-mile down the road.

And then he hears the engines. He remembers the last time, that endless scream, the ice cracking under their feet. It won’t happen again.

He takes the stairs to the basement two at a time and crouches beside Scully’s mattress.

“They’re coming,” he says, his voice hoarse with sleep. “Scully. Scully.” He shakes her hard and she blinks at him, then comes suddenly awake.

“Mulder—“

“You have to go,” he says. “It’s time.”

She moves through the shadows to where Will is sleeping. He hears her whispering, hears the mattress squeaking as she kneels on it.

And then she turns to him. “He’s gone,” she breathes.

Without a second’s hesitation Mulder runs upstairs to the back room, searching the horizon for his son’s silhouette. He’s not there, he’s not anywhere – and the bag Mulder packed for him is gone.

“Where did he go?” Scully from behind him, somewhere near the front door. “Mulder, where did he go?”

He’s shaking his head, trying to clear it. It’s impossible. There must have been some sign, something that happened over the last days or weeks, some clue. But he can’t remember, not anything. The last conversation he had with his son was about how sick they both were of black beans. Please don’t let that be the last thing I said to my son, Mulder thinks, desperate, and he doesn’t know who he’s praying to.

Her voice is barely a whisper. “He took your gun.”

“I didn’t hear him leave,” Mulder says. His voice seems to echo in the empty house, in the dark. He’s turning over couch cushions and pulling books off the shelves when he sees it: a page from Scully’s notebook, torn out and tucked underneath a glass of water on the coffee table. He yanks it out, collapsing to the couch as he squints to read it in the dark.

“What the fuck,” he says, disbelieving.

Scully takes it from his hands. Her blue eyes bright, exactly the same shade as Will’s, as she scans the letter. It doesn’t take long. Will didn’t bother to write much.

Mulder had run away from home once, when he was around Will’s age. In his backpack he’d stuffed two pairs of jeans, five t-shirts, and not nearly enough underwear; he put his dog-eared copy of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance and a picture of his sister in the front pocket. He’d made it as far as the ferry terminal, where a bunch of his neighbors pleasantly inquired where he was going, with a clear undercurrent of because we’ll tell your parents if we need to. So instead he snuck through his best friend’s bedroom window and spent the night on her floor.

Now, all these years later, he remembers his mother’s face when he came back the next morning. Mascara smudged around her bloodshot eyes; crescent moons on her palms from twelve hours clenching her fists. She thought she had lost him, too. He hadn’t even left a note.

Mulder finally believes in karma.

“It’s the middle of the night. He can’t have gotten far.” Scully says it with such confidence that Mulder almost believes her. “We can catch up to him. We can take the bikes, they won’t make any more noise than we will on foot.”

But Mulder doesn’t move. Scully puts the note back down on the table. She says, “Come on.”

He’s sitting on the edge of the couch, feet flat on the floor in front of him. He rests his head on his hand.

“Mulder.”

“I told you,” he says, his voice muffled.

“That’s bullshit, Mulder. You know I can’t let you—“

“It’s not up to you.” He looks up at her then. “They’re here, Scully. It’s too late. If we run, they’ll catch us.”

She says his name again, one more time, and her voice breaks on the second syllable. He stands and gathers her to him, his chin on the top of her head.

“Let me keep you safe,” he whispers, jaw gritted, and it sounds like begging. “You have to find him. He’s alone, Scully. I can hold them off. You have to go. You have to.”

He is begging. He’s not better than that, has never been better than that.

Scully shudders. Against the fabric of his shirt she whispers, “I didn’t want it to end like this.”

“I know.” He pulls away just far enough to kiss her, just once. “It’ll be okay, Scully.”

The sound of engines, getting closer.

“You have to go,” he says. “Find Will. Find Skinner. I’ll follow you when it’s safe.”

Her eyes are shining and they both know he’s a liar. He takes her bag from the door and feels for the weight of her pistol inside, the extra ammunition he packed. He hopes Will took some, too, but there’s nothing he can do about that now. She puts the backpack on and it dwarfs her frame.

Scully, who has always been made of steel and lately she’s tempered herself into a weapon, and he loves her and loves her and she is so brave and if this is the last time he ever sees her, he’ll remember this.

“I love you,” she says.

The lights sweep through the room, across the planes of her face. He is not afraid.

He says, “Run.”

unfortunatelackofaliens  asked:

insecure/clingy victor makes my life 500% better because it makes him so much more realistic and knowing his character, he'd be the clingiest, most worried about losing the other. like, yuuri gets to the point where he's like "okay this is happening this is f i n e. posters? what posters? he's my husband not my celebrity crush" but they've been married for years and victor's like "I LOVE YOU NEVER LEAVE I CANT LIVE WITHOUT YOU PLEASE I N E E D I DONT DESERVE YOUR LOVE BUT NEVER LEAVE"

Awwww dang you’re right :/ The beautiful thing about their relationship is that they brought out the best in each other without even necessarily realizing what was happening. But if Victor were to slow down and think about that I think he’d realize just how much Yuuri changed his life and how much he wants/needs to stay with him.

I could picture him spilling all of this to Yuuri one night in bed and Yuuri understanding completely because he can relate Victor’s depression to his own anxiety. Then Yuuri is careful to never threaten to leave him/to never take a domestic fight too far and to reassure him that he’ll stay with him forever. But this still does make Victor clingy in a healthy way and Yuuri is happy to cling right back to him <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 

theguardian.com
Taika Waititi on shaking up Thor and being a Hollywood outsider: 'They take this stuff so seriously'
The Hunt for the Wilderpeople director on joining the Marvel universe, hating biopics and his early script for Moana
By Elle Hunt

When asked what fans can expect from the latest instalment of Thor, director Taika Waititi somewhat unhelpfully says it will be “Taika-esque”.

Asked if he could perhaps describe it in literally any other way, he laughs. “I can’t! There’s no way!”

As far as whetting the appetites of Marvel fanatics goes, it’s a little counterproductive. Thor: Ragnarok will be watched by many more people who are familiar with the franchise than those who know Waititi’s work – but this may be the film that makes the New Zealand director a household name.

The big-budget Thor is a far cry from the Flight of the Conchords, of which Waititi wrote and directed a few episodes, and from What We Do In The Shadows, the 2014 vampire mockumentary he made with Jemaine Clement. And it’s almost the antithesis of Hunt for the Wilderpeople: the family friendly little-Kiwi-film-that-could, which was a surprise hit at box offices around the world last year.

But while the types of projects may differ wildly, his treatment of them – the bit that makes them “Taika-esque” – doesn’t. Even Waititi’s government-funded anti-drug-driving campaign, Tinnyvision – made in collaboration with Snapchat in 2014 – has the same warm, sly humour of his features.

And yet, after 41 years’ experience of being “Taika-esque” himself, he still struggles to describe it.

“If someone asked, ‘What are your films like?’, the best I can come up with is that they’re, like, a fine balance between comedy and drama. And they deal mainly with the clumsiness of humanity.”

Well, that’s definitely true of Tinnyvision.

As evidenced by his decision to set Ragnarok outside the Marvel universe – a ballsy move, given the size of the fandom and budget in question – Waititi is one to do things his own way. And it’s paying off.

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Literally this time last year I finally got to meet Adore, and the holiest of fucks, it was one of the best nights ever. (Backrolls? I was like … 25lbs heavier but let’s not talk about that lol) Don’t worry, I won’t gush endlessly about how lovely she was or how she can make you feel like you’re the only two people in the room.
I just love her so much.

I also kinda sorta met @biancadelroy and @sissythatcunt and I’m glad they aren’t sick of me. Yet lol ♥

thisisnotatree  asked:

I can totally picture Night Vale existing in the killjoys universe, like somewhere far way from Battery City, in the least inhabited zone is a small desert community where even Dracs wouldn't dare go. The town isn't on any BL/ind. sanctioned maps, because they don't want anyone to think that there are forces outside their understanding. Dr. Death Defy knows about it, he's got the best radio in the zones and can hear Cecil's broadcast. Even he shudders to think about the impossible town.

dude…. this is some Good shit, hmu @corruptedkid with more like this  👀 👀 

I know you’re taken(but will you be mine?)

I wanted to try writing in first person for this ohmtoonz, let me know how it turned out please!

Disclosure: brief mention of subspace


There’s a belief that the act of magic is a hoax, child’s play for quick money from those too willing to believe in the unknown. Those who discard it have never stood in Los Angeles at an hour where time stops, and it feels as if eternity has granted you the enlightenment of the moment lasting forever, and they don’t know the warmth of having a man’s arms wrapped so tightly and pressed close, you can feel the beat of his taken heart as two bodies become one. I felt magic in the way we swayed to nothing, and how it electrified the air around us as his lips ghosted over my ear.

“I’ll leave him. We can go to Rome, or Paris. I’ll take you to the moon if that’s where you want to rest. Have a fresh start, leave all this shit behind. Sounds nice, doesn’t it? That what you want?” His voice had a huskiness to it all with fantasy filled minds crave to hear whispered in their ear. It drove me mad. It made me believe anything he had to say. Through the haziness of that alluring control though, I knew, like those with broken hearts do, that it would be short lived. Soon that voice which held confidence and seductiveness would tire and leave my child like daydreams.

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Teach Me to Hope (Like I Scarcely Dared Before)

*click through to read on ao3

written by @goldenheadfreckledheart​ | Lexi

prompt: ‘Subtlety is clearly not your forte, asshole.’

word count: 2872

Raven Reyes posted a picture and tagged Bellamy Blake and Clarke Griffin.

Caption: “My favorite lovebirds.”

Private Message:

Clarke:

       Subtlety is clearly not your forte, asshole.

Raven:

       I have no idea what you’re talking about.

       actually I do

       and you’re welcome.

Clarke:

       -___________-

       Stop trying to make things weird

       It’s not going to work.

Raven:

       Honestly the fact that you think my goal is to ‘make things weird’ proves            how oblivious you are.

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vimeo

As I was accompanying a group of students from Odsherred Efterskole, Denmark on a trip to Malawi for a week, I took advantage of the little time off I had to take some pictures. In cooperation with Francis Botha, local citizen and employed at NGO Danish Church Aid, we toured the African country from South to North, helping me find diverse locations and scenes to best capture what I had in mind.

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You’re Innocent

gif belongs to of-badges-and-guns

Title: You’re Innocent

Pairing: Pride x Reader

Word Count: 1,305

Warnings: angst & fluff

A/N: This was requested by an anon! I hope you all enjoy! Feedback is welcomed and appreciated! I love you all so much! <3

Pride walked through the squad room, grabbing the keys off of his desk.  It was time to lock up and get settled in for the evening.  He was ready to unwind and relax for the rest of the night.

The agent shut the door, locking the downstairs up.  He slowly walked through the squad room, stopping at the end of the stairs.  Just as he was about to go upstairs for the night, there was a pounding at the door.  Pride quickly rushed back to the door and unlocked it.

When Pride opened the door, he didn’t expect to see you.  The way you threw yourself into his arms made him look behind you, searching for something, or someone, that could be chasing you.  He didn’t have time to notice the blood on your clothes.

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