but i am so excited for his movie with pari :3

City of Love

Pairing: Teacher!Derek x Teacher!Reader

Warning: NSFW, 18+, spanking, vaginal sex, oral (fem receiving, and male), no dk unfortunately

A/n: It’s very rare that I write fluffy Derek smut, but damn I do love it as well. This was a request, and I did alter the request slightly so apologizes but I just find this works <3 Thank you to @ninja-stiles for reading through this <3


Originally posted by iminlovewithderekhale

“Remember class, we’re meeting at the airport tomorrow morning at four am.” You announce to your class full of teenagers who were chatting among one another. You could tell they were excited about their trip to Paris, France but you could bet you were more excited than all them put together. It was always a dream of yours to go to Paris, you loved everything about the city.

When your principal asked you to organize a trip abroad for your class, you couldn’t help but choose the one place that fascinated you the most. You ran it through the school board, highlighting the array of activities that were available over in France; The Louvre, The Eiffel Tower and Disneyland. Six days away from Beacon Hills was everything you needed.

“Miss Y/L/N, what other teachers are coming with us?”

“Miss Martin and Mr Hale.” His name fell from your lips with a hiss, and the class giggle at your tone. “Right, have a good evening and I’ll see you bright eyed and bushy tailed tomorrow.”

Keep reading

Art Internship experience at Blue Sky studios (2017)

Hey guys! Some of you have got in touch with me asking questions about the summer Internship I had with Blue sky, and I thought it would be helpful to write about my experience and also addressing some of the common questions I was asked.

I recently finished my 3rd year at Gobelins school of image in Paris and going back for my final year soon. Last summer, I did my internship in the design department at Blue sky studios for 2 months.
It had been my goal since the last 5-6 years to work for a company that makes feature films, and Blue sky was one of the companies that I was aiming for. During the last year I focused on preparing my portfolio to suit the design style of the studios that i was looking at. I did some research and found out some portfolio’s of students who got into these internship programs in the last 4-5 years and set them as a benchmark for my portfolio. Even though i believe in terms of level, I did not reach very close to most of them, i still think i wouldn’t have pushed myself if I did not have a specific target like this. Some of the artists student portfolio’s i looked at are - James woods, Assaf horrowitz, Ryan lang and a few more. My portfolio was mainly targeted towards visual development and character design. You can find it here - https://varunnairportfolio.tumblr.com/

Experience at Blue Sky -

Once I was selected for the program, I did some research about the studio i was going to work for. Even though I knew a bit about the studio I wanted to make sure that I at least knew the works of everyone in the art department. So I went through the credits of all their movies and checked out the works of every one of them. This got me really excited because I knew i was going to get to learn so much from them.
During the internship I was fortunate enough to have 2 amazing mentors - Nash Dunnigan (art director on peanuts) and Aidan Sugano (Lead character designer). First 3 weeks was with Nash working on some prop designs and color keys and the rest of the 7 weeks was spent doing character designs for the feature film ‘Nimona’ working with my mentor Aidan. I was really lucky that they trusted me with production work, because from what i was told, not many interns get to work on movies right away. Nash was super nice to me in sharing his experience from the industry, doing paintovers, taking me to art department meetings, and also to the other departments to show the pipeline of a feature film. With Aidan I learnt the intricacies of a character design, how to bring simplicity to your work (which is something i am still trying hard to get good at) fluidity of lines and how to strip unnecessary details that take the attention from the message that you are trying to convey through a drawing. Watching him draw over my characters was amazing, because I never had anyone who did that for me before. Apart from my mentors there were other amazing people in the art department who showed me their techniques and shared their knowledge. Tyler Carter, Mike lee, JM Oli and Jeff Turley to name a few.
This internship has been nothing short of a life changing experience and it has completely changed the way I think about a design. Most importantly the definition of what is ‘’Good Design’’ has changed for me and the bar is set really high. Which means i have some frustrating period ahead of me of not being satisfied with my work. But that’s okay, because I know that Im getting better each day and the more frustrated i get, the more I push myself to figure things out.
Be very specific with what your goal is and take decisions that help you reach closer to that. I hope some of the information here was helpful. Good luck! :)

anonymous asked:

Could you please do Number 1 with yoongi?


{Y/N breaks up with Yoongi in the middle of the night, but why?}

I took in a deep breath and held it for as long as I could. If I let go of my breath I would surely lose my composure. I let of of my breath when it was too much to bear and leaned against the wall, sliding down slowly. I tucked my head into my knees, trying to soothe the ever throb in my head. I wanted it all to stop, I wanted to stop hearing his voice. I wanted to stop picturing his face, devastated, hurt, betrayed. “Make it stop. Make it stop. I don’t. I don’t love him.” After minutes of talking myself down from the threatening anxiety, I feel like I’m ready to do this. I stand up and trudge up the stair well to his apartment.

i reach the door. My clammy hands pound on the door ruffly. A minute later, a groggy Yoongi opens his door, startled and rubbing his eyes. I almost forgot it was practically 4am. “Y/N?” He says gruffly. “What are you doing here? Come in babe, is everything all right.” He reaches out to pull me inside but I instinctually step back, out of his reach. “No. It’s not fine. I need to talk to you.” I say, bitting the inside of my lip a bit to keep it from quivering. Yoongi looks at me now, his attention peaked. “What’s wrong?” he asks, stepping towards me again. I step back and I imagine the look of hurt in his eyes with my own glued to the floor. “I was sitting on my bed tonight, going through pictures of us. I saw our trip to the island. The first say we met when I asked for a photo with you. I saw that photo we took at my family reunion in January. When I was looking at the photos, I realized that I don’t love you. I saw it in this one specific photo. We were at the grocery store, a frickin grocery store and I’m pushing the cart and you’re picking up a box of cereal and asking me if we should get that one and Cameron is talking the photo. The picture is so ordinary in setting and shot but the way you look at me in that photo- You just, you’re looking at me like I’m art. Which I’m not. I’m far from it. But you, it’s like you see me as something I’m not. You’re eyes were narrowed and you are barely smiling but there’s just this energy flowing off of you towards met hat i can feel even through my stupid screen. Were in a fucking grocery store buying cereal! I look like a mess, my hairs in a bun with a bandana and I’m wearing some stupid baggy band shirt but you’re still looking at me like I’m a brand new world!” I take a breath and look up at Yoongi to see that he is staring at me just the way he did in the photo. “I don’t understand, Y/N.” He whispers.

“I don’t love you the way you love me. I don’t know what love is and I’m not ready to find out.” 

Yoongi runs his hands through his hair, rolling his neck. “Y/N you aren’t making any sense. Love is us. It’s literally us! You and me, we,” Yoongi hold me by my arms, searching my eyes for any form of doubt. “It’s when you say my name, Y/N. When I feel your presence and when, when. God, Y/N. I don’t understand where this is coming from. Please don’t leave me.” Yoongi is blinking rapidly, trying to hold back the gleam in his eyes threatening to spill. I shake my head stonily. “No, Yoongi. I’m sorry but, this just doesn’t feel right anymore. I feel like I’m forcing myself to feel things that don’t come naturally for me. I’ve been feeling like this for a while. I din’t know what it was but now I know, I don’t love you.” I look deeply into his eyes as I say this.  Yoongi instantly drops his hands from my arms and lets me go. He nods his head, butting his lip so hard it looks like he is smiling. He shakes his head, putting his hands on his hips and walks back into his apartment shutting the door. 

Only when I’m out of the building do I allow myself to cry. I’m in so much pain it hurts to breathe, to think. I get inside the black car waiting outside for me and am greeted by the woman.

“You did the right thing Y/N.” She says, looking at me through the rear-view mirror. “I told you, you’re an anchor on Yoongi’s sail. If he wants to make it in this business. Publicity is everything, he’s gotta have the right people beside him.” I nod my head in understanding. 

“There’s ten thousand in the envelope next to you. Take it.” She says. I scoff, wiping my tears. “I didn’t do this for money, I did this to protect him and you know that. I’ll be leaving now, you won’t have to see me ever again. Unless you’re agency screws him over, than I’m coming for you.” 

I hop out of the car and slam the door shut. I turn the alley right when I hear the apartment door swing open. I lean against the wall and see Yoongi run past me, yelling out my name. It takes everything in me not to respond. To run after him and beg him to forgive me for saying I didn’t love him because I do. It’s because I love him that I have to set him free. 


Hey thanks for reading! I just want to thank all of our followers for being so kind and supportive :) I love you <3 I wanted to get to know you guys a bit. What are your favourite movies? Mine is Midnight in Paris (I liked it before Tae mentioned it so I was really excited to hear he enjoyed it too!) Let me know :) I love movies and am dying to hear from you guys. Also, Bias? Mine is Chimchim :)




Robert Pattinson Is Alive Again

The Twilight heartthrob seemed damned to be a brooding ex-vampire forever. But then he drove a stake through his career and got to work resurrecting it.

So it’s settled, says Rob Pattinson, we’re going to do ayahuasca together! Ayahuasca is an Amazonian hallucinogen that people take to journey to the center of themselves, usually with a shaman, usually on a retreat, and it is a totally normal and valid way for us to spend one of our two days together, I completely agree. Yes, Rob, let’s do it. For the great big stunt of our GQ cover story, let’s take great big doses of ayahuasca. Let’s slide down the gooey tunnels of our ids until we Malkovich Malkovich Malkovich. Then I look it up. There’s a really long period of your trip where you’re just vomiting. But we’re up for some vomiting! Nobody here is a newborn babe who can’t handle a little reverse peristalsis! We just met, after all, and what better way to get to know each other than a little kayak into each other’s insides? Me and Rob Pattinson! Vomiting up a storm! What a story! But—but—maybe all that vomiting would make it hard to talk? Maybe it would change our psyches irreparably and return us to our loved ones forever altered? It might, right? Back to the drawing board. But you know what they say: There are no wrong ideas in a brainstorm.

So it’s settled, says Rob Pattinson, we’re going to swim with sharks! No one’s done that, right? The best way we can get close to some edge of existence, he thinks, is to swim with sharks, daring them to eat us. I suggest that maybe ayahuasca brings us to the edge of existence, too? And wouldn’t it be hard for me to write this if one of us (me) got eaten by one of those sharks? Sure, sure, he gets it. Anyway, he says, “I’m afraid something will happen that makes me look like a pussy.” Which is fair, and so we’re not going to do it.
So it’s settled, says Rob Pattinson, we’re going to a Russian spa in West Hollywood! Sure! Let’s sit together in a spa, me in my bathing suit and you, Rob Pattinson, in yours, and you can talk about your workout regimen, and I can tell you about the care and maintenance of my C-section scars! Both of them! Argh, but a friend told him he’d seen Justin Bieber there, and Pattinson was like, no way, he will not be Bieber-derivative, which I support. (And usually spas are gender-separated?)

So it’s settled, says Rob Pattinson, he’s gonna come to me! Yes, he wants to infiltrate my suburban life. How’s that for turning this whole thing on its head? He’ll come to where I have coffee every day, at the Able Baker, and we’ll have a latte and a cookie, then haul over to do camp pickup with the kids. Yes! Me and Rob Pattinson! In New Jersey! Yes, come on over, Rob. The kids get picked up at 3:50! Bring a snack or the younger one will bitch you out for hours! Shoot, no, he has to go to Paris to get photographed for his Dior campaign in two days, so that won’t work with my deadline.

Pattinson, bless him, brings an unfiltered, uncut fire to each idea. Me, I am getting whiplash from nodding vigorously as I consider them. I am excited just to bear witness to his enthusiasm for all the ways you could eat the world. But I am also inspired by him. He really wants us to walk out of here with an amazing plan.
Here, incidentally, is a very quiet, virtually unknown café that he likes, just a few blocks from his house in some part of some part of Los Angeles. He asks that I don’t print where this is, since he comes here a lot, mostly because of the [privacy feature]. He sits here every day, same table, eating the same [house special scramble], hold the [thing that makes the scramble delicious], and he never sees anyone here, and he’d like to keep it that way. Sure, I say.
Suddenly, his eyes are a fever. He knows what we’re going to do. “Let’s get fecal-matter transplants,” he says. This is roughly his ninth suggestion (I’ve spared you some) for how we might spend our time together, but it’s number one in experimental procedures that are not yet fully FDA-approved. He’s been reading about it—he reads about everything, from stories about psychology to linguistics to fecal matter—and he cannot stop thinking about the possibilities. “It works,” he insists. “You can have an athlete’s shit put inside you and then you’re an athlete afterwards.” Imagine that! An athlete’s shit! Turning you into an athlete! It’s real! It might be real. It’s probably not real. But he’s just read about a woman with chronic fatigue who did a DIY fecal transplant and now she is totally fine. In fact, someone Pattinson knows did it; he spoke to that someone just yesterday, and that someone’s life has changed materially as a result—he can’t tell me who it is, because that someone is someone, but my God, we need to do this. So here’s the deal: We’re going to transplant each other’s fecal matter! I will become more like Rob; Rob will become more like me. No one’s ever done that before, right?

I look up from my notebook and blink. He is rubbing the fine layer of stubble resting luckily on his jawline, which you could hang your dry cleaning on. We sit back and consider. You know, if this is too hard, we could just come here again, I say. Maybe we could just not do anything and just come here. He shakes his head. That won’t do. No, we’re going to do something.
He stares at the iced coffee he ordered. He used to drink “a million” cups a day, but lately, since he turned 31, he finds that it’s making him crazy. “Yeah,” he says, “if I have a little bit too much, I’ll suddenly think the trapdoor in the bottom of my life is falling.” Plus, too much coffee is like truth serum for him (hey, what if we did truth serum?), but he still loves coffee. So far he’s had maybe one and a half fingers of a regular-size cup. He puts his fist up to his heart. “I already feel like I had a speedball.” He lets out a kind of cackling laugh after he says this—head back, launching upward—but it comes out almost like a moon-howl. He laughs like this after almost everything he says, which is an intense way to communicate. When he talks, he tugs on the chest hair near his clavicle so that the bits of skin attached to each follicle pull up and form a miniature mountain range. We sit perpendicular to each other, and he keeps on his Helmut Lang sunglasses. Sometimes he looks at me, but mostly he looks at his scramble and at his dog, Solo, whom he has brought along—he shares the dog with his romantic partner, the experimental British musician FKA Twigs—and who has a Mohawk.
“I can commit so wholeheartedly because I think it’s so stressful being in a thing where you’re just constantly second-guessing everything all the time.”
Okay, so a fecal transplant. Check. A doctor will creep his (or her!) way into our colons and replace our poop with each other’s poop. Why not? What do we have to risk, other than infection and death?

So it’s settled, I say. I am game for it. I was game for all the others, too, because this is exciting for me, for someone to be as into this as much as I am. Maybe he wants to do something he’s never done before, or see something he’s never seen before, or be someone he’s never been before. It seems like this is the only criterion for how he wants to spend our time, just as it seems to be the only common denominator among the movies he chooses to make now: It has to be something new. It has to deliver a real connection. It has to teach him something about himself and test him.
His new movie—his first starring role in years, made by a pair of gifted young brothers named Ben and Josh Safdie—is definitely a test. It’s called Good Time, and it is a locomotive that will grab you by the chest hairs near your clavicle for 100 minutes; Pattinson classifies it as the “panic genre.” He plays a desperate low-level con artist in Queens trying to protect his little brother after a bank robbery gone wrong. Without giving too much away, let’s just say it’s intoxicating to watch someone never slow down over the course of 24 hours and not once in that time make a good decision.
Yes, the new Rob Pattinson is defined by his willingness to go berserk or go home. But maybe it’s just on-screen. Already Pattinson is reconsidering the fecal matter. Fecal transplants probably aren’t something that can be arranged in a day, even when you’re Rob Pattinson. Probably you need a diagnosis code or something. They probably aren’t as easily accessible as a colonic, and at this point who hasn’t done a colonic with a journalist? Anyway, he adds, maybe with some menace, “if we did a swap, I don’t know if you’d be able to handle my shit.”
As we continue to discuss ideas for our big something, I bat away my thought about what these ideas also have in common, which is that they all render me incapacitated, unable to ask him any questions, and him unable to answer any. We’d be in different rooms, or on a hallucinogen, or in the belly of a shark, or in surgery, for Chrissake. But no, it couldn’t be that. It has to be this: That after years of playing dead, Rob Pattinson feels alive again.
Yes, that has to be it.

He spent his formative acting years suspended in Twilight, playing a vampire who mostly just stood there, brooding—an inert emo-reactor to his cis-mortal heroine, played by Kristen Stewart. If you’ve never heard of it, because you were in an underground prison with no access to the outside world, or even other prisoners, a brief recap: It’s about two co-dependent teenagers (one of whom has been a teenager for 100 years) in a super-toxic relationship that unfolds over five movies in the small town of Forks. The blood of this lonely, virginal teenage girl gives off a scent that is like heroin to this teenage vampire who lives there, meaning he wants to eat her but also that he wants to love her. By the end of the third movie, they still haven’t slept together. Finally, in movie four, the two have sex, which they feared might kill her. But she then immediately becomes pregnant, and that actually does kill her. What is the opposite of subtext? Did I mention the town where this takes place is called Forks?
“When I find someone who I have an instinct about, I find it quite easy to completely give myself to that person.”
When the cameras stopped rolling, Pattinson was surrounded by oceans of admirers who made his world small and paranoid. So you can maybe understand why, freed up by all of those coffins full of Twilight residuals, Pattinson is now doing what he’s always wanted to do: making movies that are relentless and dark and kinetic and subversive. He could’ve gone a lot of different ways after Twilight; the world loves a pallid British super-villain. But it would’ve been more standing still: the CGI, the green screens, the waiting around in his trailer. Plus, he says, “I think you have to have a specific type of confidence to be in those movies.” He was confident he didn’t. He couldn’t just stand there and be defiant, the way villains do. He couldn’t stay on one note and mean it.

Instead, he plunged himself into a series of gritty art-house movies, which, of course, is a strategy favored by just about every teen idol trying to go legit. But this is different in that he doesn’t appear to be picking these projects with a calculated eye toward prestige, or even edge. His recent films are unified primarily by the fact that they feature directors who are great and mostly unheralded, and characters who are a little scary to play. Hardly anyone saw any of these movies, and he says he never expected them to. The point wasn’t for people to see the movies. And so far, he’s been right nearly every time. So far, it appears that Rob Pattinson has killer taste.
Cosmopolis, his first post-Twilight movie, gave him the chance to work with his lifelong hero and favorite director, David Cronenberg, and to try his hand at (a very dark sort of) comedy. His character, a nihilist finance bro in the age of Occupy Wall Street, sits in the back of a limo for the duration of the film. He loved Cronenberg. He loved working for his hero. But still, there wasn’t a lot of movement. Edward Cullen’s most notable attribute, besides his looks—powdered face, strong lip, clenched jaw, which would slice through his hand if he rested it there—was his stillness. After that, he wanted some motion. He wanted to floor it.
He started noticing how supporting roles got to be wilder and more eccentric, how they weren’t subject to the stolid requirements of a leading man, so he went and did a bunch of those— The Rover, Queen of the Desert, The Lost City of Z —much smaller films that allowed him to move, tinker, alter his appearance. You could watch The Rover, a brutal Australian-made post-apocalyptic heist-revenge tale, without realizing until the credits roll that you’ve been watching Rob Pattinson the whole time. “Yeah?” he asks happily when I say this to him. He loves that. Hearing that is the best thing he could hear. Next up: a project with the visually sumptuous French filmmaker Claire Denis, someone he’s been wanting to work with forever. “It’s a lot about sexual fantasy,” he tells me, “and how your past intermingles, and this thing about kind of having your semen stolen from you in a spaceship and like forcibly impregnating people.” Look for it in theaters soon!

Pattinson came across the Safdie brothers in his endless reading. What caught his eye was a single still image from the last movie they directed, a much admired 2014 heroin-junkie drama called Heaven Knows What: It was a close-up of the film’s star, Arielle Holmes—stringy-haired and staring warily beneath a hot pink filter—whom the Safdies met one day in Manhattan’s Diamond District and decided to make a movie about. When Pattinson first saw the image, on a film-geek website, the movie wasn’t even out yet. But he couldn’t look away. He reached out to them immediately with a blind note saying he was a huge fan and that he wanted to be in their next project. Just to reiterate: He hadn’t even seen the movie yet. But he didn’t care. He was hooked. “I want to disappear into a role,” he told them.
Good Time did not exist in any form until Pattinson reached out. The Safdies were in the middle of another movie when they got Pattinson’s note, but they invited him to talk and showed him the finished version of Heaven Knows What. “He said he just wanted to be part of that energy,” Josh Safdie told me. “Rob is constantly overturning rocks to see if he can find a worm to eat. He is genuinely interested in discovering things.”
To prepare for Good Time, Pattinson spent weeks in New York just walking around Queens, asking friends of the Safdie brothers to read the lines from his script back to him until he got the accent right. He read The Executioner’s Song and In the Belly of the Beast because Josh mentioned them in passing. He lost weight, dyed his hair blond, got two actual earrings (he didn’t realize the holes never go away), and began to creep into the role of Connie, a petty criminal with dubious morals, redeemed only by his devotion to his intellectually disabled brother. One day, Pattinson and Ben Safdie, who plays the brother, went into a Dunkin’ Donuts in Yonkers, and Ben tried ordering coffee in character, getting more and more agitated, just as his character would. Pattinson, in character as well, tried not so gently to subdue him. “When I find someone who I have an instinct about,” Pattinson says, “who’s going to just push forward, I find it quite easy to completely give myself to that person. And I can commit so wholeheartedly because I think it’s so stressful being in a thing where you’re just constantly second-guessing everything all the time.”
On the other hand, now that he’s the star, now that the movies are so much smaller than the franchise machines that run on their own power, like Twilight, he has a new set of responsibilities. He knows a movie like Good Time would not be the subject of much mainstream attention—remember, it probably wouldn’t even exist—without his name on it. He knows that he has reached the stage of his career where he can use his immense fame to bring attention to a very worthy, very difficult movie like this one. But now, sitting here, he realizes he doesn’t really know what to say to me about it. He doesn’t love this part, the selling part, and he’s struggling for the right words. “I’m not very good at sending a message,” he tells me.
This is Rob Pattinson’s conundrum in 2017. He can disappear into roles. He can become someone new. But when he shows up to talk about the career he has now, the career of his dreams, people still mistake him for the tabloid tween sensation he was a few years ago, whose personal life was everywhere, who knew he was going to get asked about it in every interview and hated every second of it. He still does, which is why every minute we’re together I see him watching me warily, waiting for me to pounce.

Pattinson was cast in Twilight when he was 21, and throughout his four-year run, he and his co-stars would get dragged to shopping malls to do promotion. Those were the days when he spoke freely. Nervous girls would ask him everything from when Edward and Bella were finally going to bone to how he styled his hair. He told them, “I have 12-year-old virgins lick it.” He was hooded and dragged off to media training by studio executives, and from then on, in any interview he did, he was surrounded by several anxious publicists ready to tase him if he got out of line again.
The paparazzi descended upon him in a way we hadn’t seen since Ben Affleck and Jennifer Lopez were a thing. (They were once a thing!) Tabloids camped outside his home. “People were like, ‘It’s fine, who cares?’ ” he says now. “ ‘They’re just photos or whatever.’ They’ll say, ‘Just live your life.’ But that’s not life for me, if someone’s observing it.”
During the height of the Twilight madness, he had each of his friends call Ubers while he traded outfits with them in the restaurant bathroom, so that photographers wouldn’t know which car he got into, and then he sent all the Ubers in different directions, because drop dead. He rode around in the trunks of cars “constantly,” he says, because fuck you. At one point he had five rental cars and kept them, along with a change of clothes, in parking lots around town. If he was being followed, he’d dip into one of the lots, switch his clothing and his car, and leave. One day, coming home from Venice, he realized he was being tailed. He drove around for hours because he didn’t want anyone to know where his new house was. Finally, as the sun came up, he pulled over and got out of the car and approached one of the photographers. “You’ve gotten your pictures,” he said. “Can I please just go home now?” “No,” the guy told him. “My boss says I can’t come back until I know where your new house is. Sorry, man.” Pattinson never tried to negotiate or appeal to their humanity again.
“There are ways to disappear, like, fairly easily,” he tells me. “It just involves effort, and most people can’t be bothered to put the effort in.”
Finally, he won. And he didn’t win because tabloids changed or because Twilight ended or even because he and Kristen Stewart broke up, a breakup instigated, of course, by the very paparazzi they had worked so hard to dodge (look it up). No, he won because he had more money than they did: They simply couldn’t afford the gas and unbillable hours that led to no billable shot. “As soon as I saw a tail, I would just disappear again. It worked after a while. They’re just like, ‘Oh, the guy is just a hassle.’ ” He had cracked the code; he was free. “There are ways to disappear, like, fairly easily,” he tells me. “But you have to be living a quite strange life. It just involves effort, and most people can’t really be bothered to put the effort in.”
Things are easier now; not perfect, but easier. Just yesterday he was walking Solo—his girlfriend named the dog—and he saw a photographer, and he hid his face and then was angry at himself, because he knows that hiding your face is a story. As he tells me about it, he tightens that jaw that jaw that jaw, which you could luge down, but then he relaxes and remembers what it used to be like. Put it this way: He was walking his dog outside. He thinks Instagram has taken the heat off of him; it’s taken some of the fire out of the tabloids’ pursuit of movie stars. Now they chase the Insta-models and reality stars. Sometimes they chase one another. But he has no animosity for any of them, he says. “They’re just losers trying to do their jobs.”

What he is trying to say is—no offense to me personally, of course—he would rather not be here. “It’s technically part of my job, but I’ve never been very good at it,” he says. And anyway, “I’ve never been that concerned if someone sees the movie,” which he knows you’re not supposed to say aloud and maybe doesn’t entirely mean, but there you go. His eyes briefly shift toward me with suspicion. He’s sure this is what I’m after—something incendiary, maybe even something about his ex-girlfriend, or something about Twigs. (He only accidentally lets me know he calls her that—Twigs—twice: once in relation to who named the dog they both own and also in relation to the ugliness they both experienced when their relationship became public and people on Twitter spewed racist garbage about her.) In fact, Pattinson tells me, he went to therapy a few years ago during a low time, and the therapist often remarked how good he was at talking without saying anything. Now he applies this skill whenever he’s forced to hang out with people like me. “If I could stay silent,” he says, “I would.”
He’s convinced that I’ll take whatever I learn and make his loved ones’ lives a hellscape. Back in the Twilight days, someone Googled his sisters’ names and started hounding them at work. He realized that he should never say anyone’s name—not his ex’s name, not Twigs’s name. (Just watch this. Me: “Are you getting married?” Him: “Eh…,” then laughs.) He tries to make a point in interviews of saying nothing that isn’t already known: “I always think the risk reward is very much weighted in the wrong direction.”

But it’s not just his personal life that he refuses to dive into. He’s also alarmed by the prospect that if he says the wrong thing about a film he’s trying to promote, it could be a disaster. “We live in very sensitive times,” he says. One false move, he says, and it becomes the story of the movie, undoing a lot of good people’s hard work. I surmise, but he will not confirm, that he is referring to several bits in the movie that might go over some p.c. line that the Internet has drawn.
I ask him to give me an example—one example—of a movie where this happened, where a single remark or bit of gossip derailed the whole thing. He looks at me searchingly, shaking his head. He doesn’t want to name anything because he assumes that will get him into trouble, too, shitting on someone else’s movie. But I sit quietly and wait. I can wait all day. Finally, he’s got one.
“Like Waterworld, for instance.”
I look up from my notebook and squint. The Kevin Costner movie?
“It’s one of the greatest movies ever made,” he continues, “and everyone said it was bad. And for years everyone was like, ‘This is a terrible movie.’ And now people are watching it and the veil is being taken away.”
I am momentarily speechless. Then I confirm whether he’s actually seen Waterworld. He has. Later, I will check to make sure there isn’t a Sidney Lumet movie that’s also called Waterworld. There isn’t.
Already he regrets saying this, invoking his beloved Waterworld. He looks down at the coffee. He gets a far-off look in his eyes, staring straight ahead, over my shoulder, at the restaurant wall. He looks at me again and pushes out a micro-sigh.
He tells me a story about filming The Rover in 2014, in a town in Australia with a population of 90, several hours north of Adelaide. He could stand out in the open desert, taking a piss. “I know no one can see this,” he thought then. He could barely get his head around it. Just four years earlier, he was filming a movie in Central Park, and 3,000 people came out to watch. For anyone else it would be just a regular piss. For Pattinson, it was the urination of liberation.

So after all that, we end up playing golf, something he’s never done before and I’ve only done for other articles. It was his suggestion, as out of nowhere as the others. It stuck simply because it was the last thing he thought of before there was no time to think of anything else, so we got ourselves a last-minute tee time.
He shows up this time in a gingham shirt, unbuttoned to just below the thorax, a baseball cap, and sneakers. He is less anxious than yesterday; he is happier when he is moving. Calmer, too. We rent a golf cart and make it through exactly one hole before it becomes clear that the combination of our ineptitude at golf and cackle-moon-howl laughter does not jibe well with the foul humor of the Angelenos who are available to play golf on a Friday afternoon at 3:12—a time that is called the Twilight slot, if you can believe it. We do not know quite where to put our tees. We do not know where we should be aiming our balls. There are people behind us and people in front of us, and perhaps we hadn’t considered how very, very seriously other people take golf.
We decide to bail. I get into the golf cart with him, and he has to drive backward in order for us to make our escape. He does it at full speed, swerving in reverse with the confidence of a man who has been chased down by innocent-looking Priuses with devious-looking photographers hanging out the driver’s-side window.
“We are going really fast,” I say.

He turns briefly toward me and gives me a funny look. “No, we’re not.”
I was right all along, you know. Sure, yes, all the activities he suggested were about doing something cool he’d never done before, but mostly they were about not talking. Maybe I was being naive, but you have to know I go into each one of these with a heart clouded by optimism and a willingness to believe the best in everyone. He is searching for something new in his work and in his life—that’s all real. But his ulterior motive became unavoidable after we played one hole of golf. You try asking a question with a tape recorder jammed under your bra strap and your notepad under your armpit so that you can hit a ball nowhere near the hole.

“I want to be misunderstood. People are always changing, and the more you put something down in print, people form opinions and they’re constantly creating who they think you are.”
After we return the cart, Pattinson and I hit the restaurant in the clubhouse. We sit with beers served in glasses the size of fishbowls and eat hot dogs (ketchup and mustard). I try again for even one iota of intimate conversation. But he just asks me why he would ever answer. So I think back on all the interviews I’ve done, and I tell him very honestly that I think it’s because people want to be heard. Most of us, even the most famous of us—sometimes especially the most famous of us—want to be understood.
“I don’t,” he says. “I want to be misunderstood. People are always changing, and the more you put something down in print, people form opinions and they’re constantly creating who they think you are. If you do something that contradicts that, or if you do something which goes out of that box, then you can look like a liar or something like that.”
He prefers to stay nimble, you see. There will be less to combat later if someone like me can’t throw his words in his face. It’s just not worth it, he says. Especially now. Especially now that he’s finally back among the living. Living is picking the movies you want, reacting to the world as it comes. Living is walking your dog. That’s why he isn’t giving me shit, he tells me. He hopes I understand. It’s for the best, he says. He’s alive again. Finally he’s alive again.
Taffy Brodesser-Akner is a GQ correspondent.
This story originally appeared in the September 2017 issue with the title "The Second Coming of Robert Pattinson.”

Representation Matters: Working in the French Banlieues

When I first applied to teach abroad, there was a section of the application that asked if I was willing to work in a Zone Urbaine Sensible (ZUS). Sensitive Urban Zone is just a fancy term for po’ & run down. A ZUS typically has a high percentage of public housing, high rates of unemployment, and very low percentages of high school degrees. In the United States we tend to refer to these places as the inner-city, but in Paris most of these neighborhoods are found in les banlieues just outside of the city. 

So knowing all of this before applying, I reluctantly marked a check in the square box. Why on earth would I agree to this, you ask? A couple reasons. The main reason being I was desperate to get into the program and thought that since many people would say no, this might help my chances. The second reason is because I wanted to have students from diverse ethnic and cultural backgrounds. I grew up in the Washington, DC metropolitan area and I am just in general used to that type of environment. But I didn’t imagine how much I would enjoy the experience. 

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Change of Plans - Kevin Trapp

       “He’s going to piss himself when you tell her!” My (so called) best friend Ana burst out following my reveal of the big news - her British side being revealed. 
     “Oh, okay, that’s unnecessary.” I told her, cringing at the thought. “He probably won’t even be surprised, I mean we’ve been at it a lot lately. I mean, a lot. I’m talking every night -” 
     “Okay, now you’re the one that needs to stop.” she said making a face and taking another sip of her beer, sending me into a fit of giggles. “So he may not piss himself, but he’s gonna freak out. I mean this is huge!” 
     “It is.” I said, smiling at the mere idea of how Kevin would react to the news. 
     “So, how are you gonna tell him?” Ana said jumping forward in her seat. 
      I looked at her confused. How am I going to tell him? Don’t I just say, ‘Hey bud, I’m pregnant. And surprise - it’s yours!” 
     “Oh god.” She groaned realizing what was going through my head. “Please don’t tell me you’re not going to be as boring as you usually are and casually tell him as you two watch gruesome horror movies and wear matching pjs.” 
     “Boring?!” I exclaimed, offended that she would think of me in such way. 
     “Oh come on Y/N. Admit it. You’ve never been a very exciting ‘big-news teller.” she said, “I mean, you told you’re parents you were moving to France by a text message that said ‘I got a job in Paris! I’m going!”
     So maybe she was right. I never saw the allure in big announcements that grabbed everyones attention - but was that necessarily a bad thing? 
     “So what am I supposed to do?” I asked her, taking a sip from the tall glass of water that sat in front of me. “Rent a hot air balloon and write across the sky ‘Kevin, we’re having a baby’? 
     Ana rolled her eyes and took my hand in hers. “You need help, but thankfully you’ve come to the right place.

     5 o’clock. 
     Kevin would be home any minute now and everything was going to plan perfectly. The casserole was in the oven, the table was set with fancy silverware and fresh flowers, and romantic music played in the background. To anyone else it might seem as if I was getting ready to propose. 
     The sound of a car pulling into the front of the house sent me running to the front door ready to greet Kevin as he walked in. I slowed down and regained my composure, running my hands over my still flat stomach to smooth out the few crinkles in my dress. As I walked towards the door ready to open it and be met by the love of my life, my future husband and the father of my child. As I reached for the doorknob images of the perfect night flashed through my mind. 
     But those images were quickly replaced by the image of the white door swinging open - straight towards my face. 
     “Shit!” I screamed, unable to control my mouth, as the wooden door came into harsh contact with my nose.
     “What the hell?” I heard a surprised voice from the other side of the door. A second later Kevin walked into the house and looked at what had previously been blocking himself from opening the door. “OH Shit!” 
     What a sight I was. Bent over behind the door, my hands covering my face as blood poured out of my nose and onto my white dress. 
     “What the hell happened?” Kevin exclaimed, rushing to my aid. 
     I straightened my back to come face to face with him, my hands still covering a large portion of my face. 
     “Come here.” He said rushing me towards the bathroom. As we passed the kitchen, my heart sank remembering the wonderful night I had planned. 
     As soon as we got into the bathroom, Kevin lifted me onto the bathroom sink before searching through the cabinets. 
     “Is it bad?” I asked slowly removing my hands from my bloody nose. Kevin looked up to me, and his eyes widened at the sight in front of him. 
     “You look beautiful.” He joked before quickly returning to search through the cabinet. Once he had found what he wanted he stood back up and quickly went to work on my nose. 
     “There, all better.” He said stepping back to take a better look at me. “Or at least until we get to the hospital.”
     "I can’t believe you broke my nose.” I said staring back at him. 
     “Hey, that’s not fair! You were the one standing in front of the door! What the hell were-” his quick defense was cut off as I begin to giggle uncontrollably. 
     I couldn’t keep it in. Of all of the ways for tonight to go, this one never even occurred to me. Kevin stared at me, clueless as to why I was laughing my ass off.
     “It’s not you’re fault.” I reassured him after I had regained my composure, taking his hands and pulling him between my legs. 
     “You are so weird.” He said kissing my forehead, careful not to touch my nose. 
     “This is not at all how I had planned for tonight to go.” 
     “I was going to ask you about that.” He said, his eyes revealing a sense of curiosity. “The nice meal, the fancy music, the beautiful dress-” he said looking down at my white (and red) dress “I thought Tuesday was Japanese take out.” 
     “I had this whole thing planned out,” I said rolling my eyes. “I was planning on telling you over take out but somehow Ana convinced me I had to make it special. 
     “Tell me what?” Kevin asked, eyebrows narrowing. 
      I froze realizing my slip up. 
     “Tell you that…” I began trying to find a way to get myself out of the situation. 
     “Spill it babe.” 
     Looking down at his hands that rested on my thighs, I picked up his right hand in mine and gently placed it on my stomach. After a moment I looked back up to meet his eyes that were now filled with a million different emotions. 
     “Tell you that I’m pregnant.” I whispered. 
     For a moment we said nothing, we sat together in comfortable silence, our bodies close to each other as his warm hand rested gently on my stomach. 
     Suddenly I noticed a single tear fall from Kevin’s eye. He was always the strong one. He rarely showed his emotions and it took a lot to get him to cry. In our 4 years together I had only witnessed him crying 3 or 4 times. 
     “I love you so much. And I love our baby more than anything in the world. Thank you so much.” He said taking his hands and cupping my face, resting his forehead on mine. “And I promise never to break your nose again.” 

I really, really like this one… I hope you do too! 

Fantastic Beasts Character Review

Because, as stated before, the characters alone make me prefer the Fantastic Beasts series to the originals.

Spoiler Alert!

Newt Scamander: Starting out strong here. God bless this small awkward bean. I’m such a sucker for cute fictional boys that have a hard time interacting with humans and are full of a lot of sadness but still want to see the best in the world and Newt is no exception. I fell in love with him within ten minutes of the film, and I remember seeing the previews and thinking, “oh no, not another cute fictional boy for me to obsess over.” The way he sort of latches onto people that he has a good feeling about is adorable (ie. Jacob), and I love how trusting he is as soon as he realizes that the Goldsteins and Jacob are on his side. The Hufflepuff Newt is made very clear, as he is extremely loyal and hardworking with his passions. And his awkwardness is conveyed very well and realistically – not like teen comedies where an obviously social and gorgeous teen is all, “lol look at me i’m so awkward and relatable :3″. Newt obviously CAN talk to people, and he knows how to, but he doesn’t have the charm or way with words that Queenie or Jacob have. He’s an introvert who interacts better with creatures than humans, and I think that’s how a lot of “awkward” people feel. Altogether, Eddie Redmayne (god i love him) did a FANTASTIC job portraying Newt’s big heart and reclusive tendencies and I am beyond excited to learn more about Newt (and his brother !!) in coming films.

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#70 You find a love letter he wrote to you

This is different than my normal type of preferences but, in my opinion, it’s a good type of different so I really hope you enjoy.

Louis: It was a cold winter night, Louis was on tour and you were left alone. Quickly, you hopped out of bed, moving to one of Louis’ drawers to find one of his over-sized sweaters to shield you from the harsh air. Instead of finding one of his sweaters, you found a faded envelope placed neatly on top. Of course, you decided that you had to open it because who keeps unopened letters in their dresser? The letter read:

Dear Y/n,

If you’re reading this, it means that I’m on tour and you decided to snoop around in my dresser drawers. Naughty girl. Luckily, I was prepared for this to happen and I’ve been planning to give you something for a while but I’m too much of a pussy to give it to you myself so I decided to let you find it on your own. I figured that you’d snoop around while I’m gone so if you dig a little deeper through my drawer, you’ll find what I’m talking about. You mean the world to me, y/n, and I know that I’m not very good at showing it but I need you to know just how much I truly love you. I know, I’m shit at cooking, I don’t clean up after myself and I complain a lot about stupid shit but you are the sweetest person I could ever ask for and you’re everything that I want. I might not be the best person but you make me want to be a better person for you. You better call me after you find it because I want to know your thoughts. I love you baby and I always will.

- Louis

Your heart was pound as you finished the note, pushing it aside to scavenge through the rest of his drawer. Your jaw dropped when you pulled out a small, rectangular box, opening it to reveal a beautiful, golden necklace. You reached for your phone, completely forgetting the fact that you wanted a sweater as you dialed Louis number. In that moment, nothing besides you and Louis seemed to matter to either of you.

Liam: You woke up one morning, not even bothering to change out of your pajamas or fix your bed head as you stumbled down the stairs. You weren’t expecting anyone to stop by and you didn’t plan on going out so why bother getting ready? You jumped when the doorbell rang an hour later and you were still as you just woke up. There was a delivery man, holding a giant bouquet of lilies. You quickly signed and placed the lilies in a vase on the counter, pausing for a moment to smell them. A note was poking out of the middle of the flowers and you yanked it out, a small smile on your lips as you ripped it open.

My Y/n,

Would you believe that this is the first letter I’ve ever written? Well you should feel special because that means that my first letter is to you and you also shouldn’t have any high expectations for it. Anyways, Tour is going great so fair and I’ve gotten you something from every country that we’ve been to, which means that I have almost a suitcase full of things for you. Last night, I was in paris and I couldn’t sleep that night so I went walking around and I stumbled upon a garden. I don’t know if it’s strange or not but I kept thinking about you and, if you were there with me, you would’ve been picking the flowers, disregarding the fact that they’re in a garden, because they were so beautiful. That’s when I realized it, y/n. I’m thousands of miles away from you but you’re still the main thing on my mind. I need you here with me, babe, so that’s why I decided to fly you out here with me. You better pack your bags because I can’t wait any longer. I love and miss you, babe.

From, Liam 

Just like he said, the tickets were in the bottom of the enevelope. You bit your lip to contain your smile. You have a flight ticket to Paris for 5 pm, which meant, you had to actually get dressed but that was perfectly fine because you’d be reunited with Liam once again and you couldn’t wait.

Niall: The final bell rang and you let out a sigh of relief. The hall was crowded but, somehow, you had managed to push your way to your locker. You opened your locker and a folded piece of paper glided to the floor. You were completely confused, you didn’t have a boyfriend, so that was out. You unfolded the paper and began to read it.

Dear Y/n,

I hope you remember me. This note is from Niall, as in the Niall that used to be your best friend growing up. I’m pretty sure the last time we spoke we were freshman at the homecoming game but now we’re seniors and I miss you, my best friend. I wanted to know why we grew apart, y/n? We used to be so close, practically inseparable, what changed? Normally I would say this to you in person but, I know that if I try to, I’ll end up forgetting everything that I want to say and nothing will make sense. It's much easier on paper because I won’t have to know your reaction, either your talk to me or you don’t. I understand if this is strange but I just thought that this would be the easiest way. Also, I’d love to be your date to prom, that is if you don’t already have one. Just, please tell me yes or no.

- Niall “Your Best Friend" Horan  

You were shocked that he didn’t know why you stopped talking to him. His friends kept making rude comments towards you and, when you brought it up to him, he completely brushed you off. You decided that you couldn’t be friends with him when his other friends were assholes. You couldn’t help but feel your heart melt practically that he took the time to write this for you and that had to be a good sign. As soon as you got home you ran inside, scribbling on to a sticky note before you ran over to Niall’s front door, leaving a neon yellow note with a yes written on it.

Zayn: It was moving day and you husband of 5 years was helping you pack up everything in the basement. You had just recently gotten pregnant and both Zayn and you decided that the home you currently have, would not be able to contain 3 kids and 2 dogs. ”Zayn,“ You said, finding a crumpled up letter in the bottom of one of Zayn old boxes. "What’s this?” You instinctively flattened out the letter, trying to rid the paper of the majority ofits wrinkles. Zayn was by your side in seconds, automatically assuming that something was wrong due to his worrying, protective nature. “Wow,” His eyes scanned over the letter and he could remember every detail from when he wrote it; what it said, how he was feeling, and, more importantly, why he wrote it. “This was when we were just friends, years before I got the courage to ask you to be my girlfriend, but thought that I could do it back then. I swear, I’d probably only known you for a month when I wrote that… It’s trash, Y/n. Don’t let it bother you at all.” As soon as he walked away, you leaned against the wall, wanting to know if he had felt the same as you so many years ago.


I know, I’m no poet or anything but I need to get this out. I need you to know that when I’m around you, I get this strange feeling that I can’t really describe but the only thing that’s comes close to it is right. I feel right when I with you. I don’t have to hide who I am or certain things about me. I can just be me. I’ve never felt this way before so I’m not quite sure if this is love because it isn’t how those romance movies portray it as. You’re different, y/n, and, if you’d let me, I’d love to take you out to dinner or lunch or even breakfast if you want but I think that if you give us a shot at being a couple, nothing could ever stop us. 

Your friend, Zayn

“Zayn!” You immediately called out, needing answers. “Why didn’t you give this to me?” He quickly blushed, realizing that you read it even though he told you to throw it away. “I-ah-I was standing outside your front door that night but I couldn’t do it. I thought that there was a huge chance that you would read the note and laugh and I couldn’t risk that. I couldn’t risk losing you when you weren’t even mine yet.” “Zayn, If you let me read this, I probably would have married you right then. This is the sweetest thing I have ever read and I feel honored to know that you felt these things when we had only just met.” You paused to wrap your arms around his torso, attempting to pull him in to a hug but your 6th month baby bump was in the way. “I’m so glad that you’re mine,Zayn…

Harry: The light peaked through the window, shining directly into your eyes and causing you to stir awake. Normally, you would have been annoyed for being awoken so early but today was completely different. Today you were going to become Mrs. Y/n Styles and you couldn’t be more excited. The only downside was that Harry wanted to abide by tradition and not see the bride, you, 24 hour before the wedding. As you stretched out on to the pillow next to you, you felt a paper crinkle beneath your arm. Curiously you reached over and grabbed, smiling when you saw your name written on it in Harry’s handwriting.

Mrs. Soon-to-be Styles,

I want you to know that this idea of not seeing you 24 hours before the wedding will be the death of me. Whoever made this tradition must had been a fool and probably didn’t really want to get married because he was avoiding his bride (which is the exact opposite of what I want to be doing right now but tradition is tradition). Anyways, I hope you’re thinking of me because I cannot think of anything but you; what your dress will look like (though I know that you will look beautiful in anything), our first dance as husband and wife, but most importantly I can’t stop thinking about my vows to you. I want them to be perfect and I’ve been planning them out since the day you said yes. I’m still trying to get them perfect because that’s what I want today to be but, I know, it will be perfect no matter what happens, as long as you become my wife. I love you so much y/n and I can’t wait to spent the rest of my life with you, the love of my life.

Yours forever, Harry

You were practically sobbing by the time that you finished reading the note. You had no idea that Harry felt so strongly towards you, of course you knew that he loved you more than anyone else, but this made your heart skip a beat and created butterflies in your stomach. This was the right decision, and you couldn’t wait to finally kiss your groom and show off your love in front of everyone.

[TRANS 141122] CanCam January 2015 – “What's Up B.A.P―!? The other side of B.A.P that no one yet knows!”

2012 Korean debut. In 2013, their Japanese debut with “Warrior”! Having strong individualistic sounds and powerful live performances is their charm; a 6-member group that’s popular in London, Paris, LA, NY and other places too. Their member’s daily fashion shown on tour and such are stylish and has a high standard score ♡ 

Born on 1994, January 24. 178cm. A main vocal with a mellow voice as his charm. With the same-aged Daehyun, they’re nicknamed “Daejae” and loved by fans.

“I want to sweetly invite her to a date like “let’s play~♥” and go for a drive!” - Youngjae


Q1. The one with the highest tension after lives?
YJ: Probably Yongguk-san? It’s a surprise right (laughs)! He doesn’t speak that much usually, but he’s really noisy after a live!
DH: I think it’s Youngjae? He really talks a lot!
JU: I think so too…!
YJ: Eh!? Is that so (laughs).


Q2. The member who talks the most when moving between schedules?
YJ: Mainly… Himchan-san (laughs)! He gets excited with Daehyun, and then including me, the noise just grows.
DH: To the point that no one can stop us!
YJ: Although Jongup can sleep deeply through those sorts of situations (laughs).

Q3. The one with the worst sleeping habits?
YJ: Himchan-san talks a lot when he’s awake, but he also talks when he’s asleep (laughs)! Recently, I slept with Yongguk-san in his room, and from the next room, I heard the presumably-asleep Himchan-san sleep talking… That’s noise disturbance!

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poeedamerons  asked:

Do you guys know any sterek Anastasia au? I was bored today and watched the movie and I thought that would be a pretty awesome sterek au (let's be real, sterek works in every possible au in life). I know Anastasia is not Disney, but since I am here I would love some Disney Princess Sterek au too ;) thank you! By the way, you girls do the lords work here.

@poeedamerons!!!! Fun fact. I got my name cause my dad read about the og Anastasia and liked the name. So this is MY movie. We rewatched it recently too and I tried to convince my daughter it was my biography. She was skeptical. So rude. - Anastasia (also the name of one of Cinderella’s evil stepsisters)

Originally posted by gif-database

This fanart and tumblr au.

Moar fanart!

Life is a Road by darthjamtart

(2/2 I 3,681 I Teen I Sterek)

The Anastasia AU. Derek is Anastasia. Nobody sings.


“Right,” Stiles says. “I think we should go with head injury.”

Far Away, Long Ago by Morgana_Ehran

(2/? I  6,182 I Teen I Sterek, Scisaac, Peter/Lydia)

“The Prince? Derek as the Prince?” Isaac laughed loudly. “You clearly don’t know this guy. He has no manners! He never says hello! Or please, or thank you! He’s rude to everyone. He eats from a pan. He moves like an ape and growls at everything.”

“Isaac,” Derek hissed.

“The reward is a million pounds,” Stiles said.


(aka Anastasia!au nobody asked for. No one sings and everything is kind of bleaker.)

Once Upon a December by M_Leigh  

(1/1 I 16,578 I General I Sterek)

“Scott would not have thought, years ago in the orphanage, that being befriended by Stiles would ultimately mean sneaking into the Archduke of Russia’s residence in Paris in order for Stiles to chase after the homeless man of his dreams, but he’s gotten very good, over the years, at rolling with the punches.”

Once Upon a December by Lorelai3

(11/11 I 20,983 I General I Sterek, Scira, Ethan/Danny)

There was a time when the Hale family ruled over the country of Pleinelune. And a young Prince Derek celebrates the new year with his family, but their happiness will soon be shattered. When revolution sparks will he and his Grandmamma make it safely to Beacon Hills?

Here’s some Disney Princess AUs as well!

tie your napkin ‘round your neck, cherie by magneticwave

(1/1 I 250 I Not Rated I Sterek, Jydia, Scisaac I Beauty and the Beast AU)

Stiles has been a teapot for 3,308 days. // Scott skids into the door breathlessly and shouts, “THERE’S A GIRL IN THE CASTLE,” and promptly brains himself on one of the casserole dishes.

Love like waves by cofie, HaleHole (SweetFanfics) 

(3/? I 5,794 I General I Sterek I The Little Mermaid AU)

The last thing Derek expects during the Argent’s Halloween party is finding a secret room that has a merman in it. But he figures it’s all part of the party and helps the ‘merman’ free.

Until he realizes that wasn’t part of the party.

Uh. Oops?

wish i could be part of your world by crossroadswrite

(1/1 I  10,148 I Teen I Sterek I Little Mermaid AU)

“Do they really, really, really have mermaids?” Katie gushes, clutching at her dad’s hair from her place on his shoulders and tugging with excitement.

“Merfolk,” Derek corrects distractedly, reading over the little brochure they gave them at the entrance.

Don’t feed the wildlife.
Don’t tap on the glass.
Don’t throw anything in the water.
Don’t engage with the merfolk, only do so when a member of the staff is present as to not incite conflict with our guests.

Derek wonders what it’ll be like, seeing merfolk for the first time. They’re such an interesting culture with so little of its history discovered.

He wonders-

Have Courage, Be Kind… and Get Revenge by rosepetals42

(1/1 I 10,633 I Teen I Sterek I CInderella AU)

“I am going to that ball,” he announces. This is perfect. This is the greatest thing to ever happen to him.

“What?” Scott says. “Wait, really?”

“Obviously!” Stiles replies. He can totally do this. He just needs some clothes that aren’t… basically rags. Pockets! He’ll need lots of pockets. And-

“This is awesome!” Scott interrupts his thought process. “I think you could totally win over the prince if you wanted! You’re like the most handsome guy I know!”

“Agreed,” Stiles says. Then Scott’s words actually catch up with him. “Wait, no. I’m not going for the prince. Why would I care about the prince?”

Fools Off Their Guard Can Fall and Fall Hard by bleep0bleep 

(12/13 I  19,951 I Teen I Sterek I Aladdin AU)

Stiles shakes his head, walking past yet another mound of treasure, this time in the form of gold statues, glimmering softly in the recesses of the cave. Yesterday he was just another street rat living in the kingdom, and since then he’d met the prince, been sentenced to death, escaped into the desert with a strange hag with a magical necklace, and walked into the mouth of a talking wolf that had risen out of the sand.

Now he was in the belly of the beast, walking around in a labyrinth of treasure, looking for some godforsaken lamp.

The Doppleganger: Chapter 1

“Breaking Down Walls”


Adrien is Chat Noir.  Chat Noir is Adrien.  Just as Marinette is starting to accept this fact, and see the two as one, someone new appears on the scene.  Someone who looks, sounds, and acts like Ladybug.  But she’s not.  Can Marinette convince Adrien this new girl isn’t his Lady, without revealing who she is?  Can their friendship survive Adrien’s determination to find Ladybug, and Marinette’s jealousy?

Tags: Angst (so much angst coming), some swearing.

(For the most part I’m keeping this PG13, if we consider that most 13 year olds swear, cause besides ripping all our hearts to shreds eventually, thats the worst it might get.  I’ll keep it tasteful.  Any suggested tags?  I’m not really sure what to fill the warning section with!)

SO.  This is my first fanfic.  I do not consider myself a writer, but my head buzzes with so many story ideas that sometimes it’s hard to fight the urge to create it in some way.  Usually, this comes in the format of comics, but I’m kinda not feeling the art-thing right now, and this one was buzzing insistently.  Plus, I wasn’t sure someone else could do it the way I want it done, and that’s an unfair expectation to hold.  So here it is.  Hopefully I can keep my motivation up.

Chapter: [1:you are here] | [2] | [3] | [4] | [5] [6] [7] [8] [Epilogue]


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Jungle love

Dear Maya
The credits have rolled and the votes are in - our favorite girl was undoubtedly the darling of the NYFF!
Even though it’s sometimes a jungle out there she reigned as queen and how perfect it was to see her handsome man there too! I loved hearing him talk about Lost City of Z & having been to the Amazon myself, let me assure you - it CAN be beastly but this is one story I can’t wait to see! Speaking of beasts………… I watched Beauty and the Beast 3 times in less than 48 hours with the Princess this weekend. Who knew a “not quite two year old” could be so enamoured with one movie??
While I was watching dancing forks my friend Helen got to see not only all of our favorite girl’s new films but her handsome man’s too! Best of all she got to speak to him and when she told him she liked his hat he gave her a little smirk and she took a great photo. I was a wee bit jealous but so excited for her!

Next weekend I hope I can talk the Princess into another movie. I tried to get her to watch Lion King & told her Simba was a friendly beast too but she would have none of that.
(Always thought Hakuna Matata was a catchy tune - kind of the PG version of “I don’t give a fuck”)

K: you’re all over Twitter dude

R: and you would know this how?

K: a little squirrel told me

R: oh for fuck’s sake you’re not going to let me live that down are you?

K: are you kidding? LMAO. Love me some jungle squirrel

R: I know you like a little scruff but you hated that beard

K: it was a bit much. More like a lion than a squirrel

R: you do bring out the beast in me

K: mmmmmm I love making you roar

R: you made the crowds roar this weekend honey. They couldn’t get enough. I was so proud of you

K: no more proud than I was of you! I love seeing you on the big screen dude. Especially when you look so jungleISH

R: I told you people wouldn’t recognize me and that’s not a real word

K: do you like “squirrely” better? :)

R: are you teasing the king of the jungle?

K: does the king of the jungle want to be teased?

R: you know one of my favorite quotes is from Rudyard Kipling?

K: The Jungle Book? what does this have to do with teasing?

R: “a brave heart and a courteous tongue. They shall carry thee far through the jungle”

K: …………………………and?

R: and………….you like being teased by that courteous tongue. In the jungle.

K: O M G

R: that’s it?

K: I’m speechless

R: I’m waiting

K. ok….um ……you do have a courteous tongue……….so…..very…. courteous…….just OMG ….so. very, fucking. courteous. Better?

R: king of the jungle right? Not a fucking squirrel.

K: LMAO. yeah OK. You’re my beast

R: you’re the Beauty to my Beast

K: omg I’m hiding that fucking movie. I know it’s so damn cute to hear a toddler say BONJOUR but I am gonna fucking scream if I have to see it again. And don’t say Snow White either. No Hi and no fucking HO

R: Sleeping Beauty? Cinderella? We’ve already bought all that Princess shit for Halloween

K: I know even though I was thinking maybe little squirrels would be so cute

R: UGH. Enough! What am I going to do with you?????

K: I dunno but maybe your courteous tongue could think something up

R: I’ll show you something up

K; ooooooooooh I love your standing ovation

R: oh yeah? Well I love your encores

K: well your HIGHNESS, since we’re here in the wilderness of NYC without kids - there will be no intermissions. The lion does not sleep tonight in this jungle!

R: that deserves a bow my queen but have I told you lately that I love you?

K: yeah my squirrely beast but I love you more

So sweet Maya

October is officially half way over but what an amazing month it has already been! Another magazine cover and now another night shoot in Paris!
That’s no trick - just another delightful treat coming our way. It’s going to be OK.

alyseb630  asked:

"Imagine that soulmates just have this ability to dream together/meet each other in your dreams regardless of whether or not you two meet in real life. Just like the above point, imagine how you and your soulmate could pretty much be with each other even after you’d both gone to your separate homes/shared bed." Combining these two because I really like the dream idea. Plus potential sin?

So much potential sin, but none of it is kinetic. ;)

Adrien doesn’t really get the whole “soulmate” thing until Mama convinced his Père to relent and release him from private tutors and to private school. There, half the class is already divvied up with their literal dream partners.

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Lessons in humanity, chapter 1

Lecture: how not to become an asshole

So you made it. You are in medschool. All that hard-work and time sacrificed, all that sweat and blood, all that frickin money. 

You did it. 

Now….medschool is a tough place to be in. Here are some of mine tips of how not to become an asshole in this harsh environment and how to basically keep your humanity. But still trying to keep it real. 

1. Competitive but not murderous 
A healthy dose of competitiveness is a normal part of growing up. Some people are more competitive than others. Some are not competitive at all (me). Whatever flies your kite. But there is one special type of a person who actually wanna make your miserable, who reminds you of their good grades and results every chance they get. Plus usually they don´t care about other people and/or are intentionally (sometimes) tend to bring them down.

Do not be that person. Being exceptional in one thing doesn´t mean you will be special in everything. Some of us are great in tests and some of us are great in OR and some of us have to work their butts off to be half as good as the rest. Be fracking supportive of your future collegues and if you are good and they are struggling, offer your help. 

2. Sharing is caring but…
This doesn´t belong to the “asshole” pile, more like “beware of this asshole” but I felt like I should mention it.
There will always be people who will take you for granted and who will try to be nice to you just to to get something. 

Let me give you an example -  you work hard on your notes, you attend classes, you spend your evening working on your presentations and suddenly here comes this “nice” classmate who asks you to borrow your notes. Now if it happens once becuause they were sick or because of something real, it´s cool, be a sport and help them out. If it happens again and again over the years and you know they don´t attend classes and over the years of clinical training they still suck because they just don´t care at all, and they talk to you only or mostly when they need something, well fuck them. You are not their assistent. You are not their personal typewriter and that person is definetely not your friend.

3. Don´t ask about the meaning of the universe when there is 5 minutes of class left

YOu wanna start a debate about the controversy of vaccines or you wanna ask about the statistics of a child abuse or you wanna ask about the embryonic evolution of an elephant. Well be my guest. But in a class you are taking over the time that was left for you, or for the teacher but also for EVERY SINGLE PERSON in the class. Don´t be that person.

Also from my experience these questions are rarely questions you need to get answered, more like the person asking them is trying to show the professor and the whole class how smart he is. While not realizing the only feeling everyone feels towards  him in that moment is actually an annoyance.

4. Everyone has opinions. 
But not everyone has to know yours.

I have more than few deeply orthodox christians in my class. They don´t support  abortions, contraception, sexed, condoms, any safe sex methods and homosexuality and many many more. 
Let me just say that I think everyone is free to think whatever they want unless it starts influencing other people and in that case I am suddenly becoming my alterego called The Mama Bear. 

Let me give you another example. Few years ago our state passed this law freely translated as “Exceptions in faith” which says that if a doc doesn´t wanna give a woman an abortion/contraception/sexed etc he is free to do so because he has his faith that says it would be a sin or whatever.  
What the fuck. Well some people took this as an permission to bully everyone who doesn´t share these opinions.
So if you wanna spend your days arguing about these issues with people, there are many sites, forums, freacking tumblr where you can do so. Not in class. And definitely not with a patient. 

5, Girls  who judge girls
Dear ladies, if your classmate wanna wear heels and skirts and painted nails and perfect hair and make up every morning let her be. Girl on girl hate because of our looks have been going on for too fracking long and you know why we hate each other and compare each other? because we think
That woman will get noticed
That woman will get more attention and more procedures
That woman spends all this time putting shit on her face instead of studying like me
That woman is a slut

What the hell ladies! Stop that RIGHT NOW.
Instead think:
Oh wow look at her how nice she looks
Hi there darling you look super cute today! Can you show me how to do my eyebrows like that?
Look she got picked for this procedure! I bet it´s because she has been working really freacking hard lately and they noticed! Good for her! 

You get it right? 

6. Boys who judge girls
Don´t . 

7. Paris Hilton vs. Me
There are two types of people in medschool:

Those who sold their souls to the devil and/or sacrificed a virgin to pay for the school and rich kids. 

You will make friends with both. They will go on super exciting trips around the world why you sit in your room reading books. You will see their pics on instagram wondering when will my time come? You might become jealous and bitter. It´s not nice. Or healthy.

They won´t know how it feels, the crippling fear of dept or the fact that you rather wait till you get home to eat ramen AGAIN instead of over-priced city food. These relationships are not easy but they are manageable. Sometimes.

If you are the other sort and you really care about your poor friend and you wanna ask them for night out or something, think simple! Movie? Maybe if it´s a cheap cinema. All you can eat buffet? Sure. 
That five stars restaurant on the corner of a….NO. NOpe. If the evening requires your friend to change into fancy shoes than the answer is NO. This is not the way to go, you will make them super uncomfy. 

8.Know your limits and listen to your friends
Medical school is a marathon, not sprint. You will have bad days, awful days and I am gonna kill myself fuck this shit I am worthless days. 
You will make everyone around you miserable. 
This is a time to take a break. If your friend tells you that you look/sound tired - take it as a sign that maybe this weekend you should sleep in, don´t go to the library, don´t revise.
Go out, get drunk, see friends, binge watch that show you wanted to see forever, read trashy magazines, take a long bath, light a candle, read a book, take it easy.

Nobody else will take care of you but you. 
The physical, emotional, spiritual and intelectual needs are to be taken seriously or you will become, well, a monster.

Ok kiddos that´s it for tonight. Stay fresh. 

A Brand New Dawn - Chapter 12

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Pairing(s): Ladynoir, Marichat, Adrinette, Ladrien (and a little DJWifi)

Summary: It’s a Miraculous Ladybug college fic!

Notes: OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH!! It’s after 3 am right now, and I just stayed up to finish this! You have no idea how excited I’ve been about this chapter! Like this particular bit has been carried with me since the very beginning, when I was only just starting to get the idea for ABND rolling! *flails arms and squeals* And I’m SO EXCITED to finally share it with you guys!!! :D

Reminder, this fic is also on FF.net and AO3 (find the links here) so feel free to follow them!

Word Count: 7,178

Previous Chapters

Please enjoy!!!

A rolling rumble of distant thunder sounded as the rain continued its relentless downpour on the city. Dawn had not yet arrived, and the streets of Paris were still devoid of its usual bustling activity.

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Rucas Week - Day 5

Day 5: Rucas in Paris or Rucas stay up all night talking

I’ve written them going to Paris already and many will do that so I wanted to go a different direction. This story is dreams of the future which will come to fruition in my Day 7 story. Stay tuned!

Riley and Lucas were sprawled out on her couch after watching a movie, her head resting on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. The Columbia seniors had been spending a lot of time together during their final year of school together.

They didn’t know what the future would bring but they just knew they wanted to spend the time together that they had. Lucas had plans to go to veterinary school after college, while Riley’s plans were far less clear.

“What are you thinking about?” Lucas questioned Riley, as he played with her hair which was messily tied in a bun on top of her head, “You’re worried about something.” 

“The future,” Riley answered with a chuckle and she rolled over to her stomach to face him, “How could you tell?”

“I have known you for almost nine years, Riley,” Lucas teased her, “I think I know you well enough to be able to tell when you mind is elsewhere. What about the future?”

“Touché,” Riley responded, “I just can’t stop thinking about what come after graduation. This year will be over before you know it.”

“True but we still have most of the school year to decide for sure,” Lucas countered, “I haven’t decided where I’m going to grad school yet. I have many options. Cornell is only 3 hours away.”

“But what about Texas A&M, that’s not far from Austin, where your dream began?” Riley suggested, having spent her fair share of time looking at schools for him, “UC Davis is the best veterinary school in the country. There’s also Wisconsin and Penn.”

“Wisconsin and Penn? I don’t think either of those schools is right for me,” Lucas argued, “And UC Davis is 3000 miles away. I can’t possibly go that far away just for school.”

“So it’s going to be either Cornell or Texas A&M?” Riley questioned, truly seeing how he could choose either way and wanting to be supportive.

“Yeah, I think so,” Lucas replied, still having no idea which to choose, “So how do you picture our future?”

“Our future? I don’t know…,” Riley answered nonchalantly at first, “I see a big house in the country somewhere, with room for lots of kids, maybe 4 or 5. And I see land for us to have all sorts of animals, like horses and cows and chickens.”

“Including bunnies?” Lucas questioned, teasingly, about of a childhood dream of hers,

“Yes, including bunnies,” Riley affirmed with her signature giggle before continuing, letting her mind wander, “And a dark room for me and my pictures. I can picture our children, little boys with your sandy blonde hair and little girls with your sky blue eyes.”

“I can see our little boys with your rich chocolate eyes and our little girls with your curly brown hair,” Lucas added, finishing her thought with some of his own, “I love the idea of a house in the country, but do you really want to leave the city?”

“You can’t follow your dream and be a vet in the city,” Riley countered as she shifted herself so she was sitting cross-legged across from him, facing him, “You need land to raise animals. Plus how many horses can you care for in New York City?”

“That’s true, but I can’t ask you to move out of the city, to make that kind of sacrifice for me. You’re whole world is here,” Lucas retorted, feeling like Riley would have to give something up to leave.

“You’re my world, Lucas. All I know is I want to go wherever you are,” Riley responded, “My dad left Philly to come to New York so my mom could live out her dream. It’s not a sacrifice, if I am giving it up for something better. I can take pictures anywhere.”

“How did I get so lucky that I get to be with you?” Lucas asked as he smiled at her with a look that made Riley believe he could love her forever. Riley leaned forward and kissed him the way she could see herself doing for the rest of her life.

You caught me,” Riley teased after pulling back, “Twice, actually, if I recall correctly”.

“And I am so glad I did,” Lucas added before kissing her again. Then he finished, “I think I am going to go for Cornell. It’s close enough that for now you can live here and work.”

“And once you finish, maybe we’ll move to Texas so you can live out your dream,” Riley continued, genuinely excited for this possibility.

“And what about your dream,” Lucas asked, “This shouldn’t only be about my dream.”

“You’re mine, Lucas,” Riley answered, “I have you. All I want is to see you get yours.”

The two continued talking, dreaming, and planning their future until the rays of sunrise streamed in through the windows.