do you have any idea how hard it was to get over the first time around !!

Tom and Lin-Manuel: An Appreciation/Jealous Rant

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*******

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

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

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

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

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

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

Forgiveness
Can you imagine?
Forgiveness
Can you imagine?

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

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

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

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

anonymous asked:

do you have an idea of a checklist for learning how to create digital art? like i know practice is essential, but i don't really know where to start or where to go from there. thanks so much xox

I think I can toss some stuff out here that might be of use.  Assuming an artist learning digital art starts from the beginning–owning a tablet & drawing program but not knowing how to use them–here’s an inconveniently long list of stuff that could help them.

TL;DR: 1, mess around till you’re used to drawing digitally. 2, study and create ad infinitum. 3, a bunch of tips that are pretty hard to TLDR so you should probably just go over em.  Step 2 is basically what you asked me NOT to tell you (“practice”!), but unfortunately it’s all I know how to do :,(

1) If you own a tablet that you plug into your computer (i.e., you don’t draw directly on the screen), feel free to spend a few weeks or even a month+ just getting used to it.  When you first start out, it’s really freaky drawing in one place and seeing things appear somewhere else, but trust me in that you won’t even notice the disconnect after a few months of consistent digital drawing.  I’ve been painting digitally for about 2 years now, and it’s actually slightly easier for me to draw digitally than traditionally.  [If you have a cintiq, or you use an iPad with Procreate, or something similar, then you probably don’t have to spend as much time in step 1.]

Keep in mind that it doesn’t matter how good you were with traditional drawing when you start digital; the mental disconnect you have will make it very difficult to think about proportions, values, edges, colors, etc.  You’ll probably notice yourself making mistakes that you wouldn’t normally make on paper.  Don’t worry about them, just keep drawing as you usually would.  Digital you will catch up to traditional you in time.  

For now, get used to blending colors, drawing somewhat steady lines that go in the correct direction, and fooling around with brushes and brush settings.  If you come across a brush that you like (easy to work with + pleasing results), it may help to stick with it as you continue to learn.  Digital doodles and sketches are good for this stage; though try to keep doing traditional work so your base art skills don’t atrophy.  

If you’re just starting out with Photoshop or Sai or Krita or whatever software you’re using, you’re gonna be intimidated by all the funky buttons and settings that you first see.  If it makes you feel any better, I use maybe 0.1% of the tools that Photoshop offers me.  When you start, all you need to worry about is the brush tool and control-z, maybe the eraser too.

2) Do studies as well as pieces from imagination.  You can move into step 2 as early as you please; you don’t have to wait until you think you’ve become “skillful” at digital drawing (in fact, this step is what will probably help you become the most comfortable with digital).  It’s alright if your colors are icky looking and your values are off (tip, occasionally turn the saturation of your drawing to 0 to check the values), because as long as you keep studying reality and appealing art & continually learn from your mistakes, you’ll get better. 

Always remember to study or at least appreciate the qualities of art you enjoy.  It’s the same thing that people always tell writers–you have to read a lot to write well.  You probably shouldn’t shield yourself from the influence of other artists; while you may think that this action would help you develop artistically in the manner most true to yourself, in reality the vast majority of the process of learning art will be honing in on what you find visually pleasant so that you may, in turn, express your artistic taste in your work.  If you look at other people’s art, you can pick out tiny aspects of it that you like and incorporate that into your style.  It’s a bit trickier to build a style without the “help” of other artists, though you can always turn to nature for help. On that note, I also recommend referencing nature as much as you can, because we as human beings are sort of wired to find natural designs, colors, and structures beautiful.  Look at nature for the universally beautiful, and look at art for the subjectively beautiful (i.e., enjoyed uniquely by you).

If you find yourself getting burnt out pretty quickly, then just paint/draw simple and small things for period of half an hour to 1 ½ hours a day (and switch back to traditional).  You can spend this time mapping out proportions, creating thumbnails of values/colors, drawing linework, or whatever.  Add complexity to your pieces as the months go by, and if you already have a decent foundation in drawing aim to create somewhat finished pieces after maybe four months to a year.  Please note that the second part of that sentence was something I completely made up out of my head, because I’m trying to quantify pretty unquantifiable concepts such as a “decent foundation in drawing” and a “somewhat finished” piece of art.  If you find it unrealistic, or just too easy of a goal, disregard it entirely.  It can take you half a decade to learn to make finished digital art, or you can get it down in a couple months.

3) Fun fact, there’s not really a step 3 as you stay in 2 forever, always studying and creating.  But there’s a few other things about digital art that you ought to know, so here they are:

• If your computer doesn’t make a fuss about it, I’d recommend working on a decently large canvas (at least 3000 by 3000; I personally prefer 6000 by 6000). You’ll get less defined edges and colors if you go below 1000 by 1000, from my experience.

• If you have a tablet with pressure sensitivity (you probably should otherwise digital painting is kinda hellish), go to your brush settings and set ‘transfer’ to ‘pen pressure.’  This is what makes it possible to blend.  

• If you’re having trouble matching colors while studying, you can always color pick the ref (in photoshop: bring the pic into PS and use the eye dropper tool) and compare its colors to your colors.  Some people add too much red to their skin tones, some people draw their highlights with overly desaturated colors, some people make trees and grass in their landscapes too green; whatever the case, take note of and correct errors that you consistently make.  

• Get used to using the transform/warp/liquify tools (liquify is technically a filter but you get what I mean).  They’re lifesavers for fixing proportion mistakes that you’ve only noticed 8 hours into a piece. 

• Give layers a shot.  I only work on one layer, but I’ve heard from people who divide their piece up into multiple layers that they’re damn useful (until you draw on the wrong one). 

• Flip your canvas horizontally every once in a while to make sure stuff hasn’t gone awry. 

• Screw around with color modes; they can do some really fancy things that are difficult to duplicate with normal digital painting, let alone traditional.  On the topic of colors, don’t be afraid to use somewhat desaturated colors (near the center of the color picker square in PS). There are some very aesthetically pleasing color combinations that you can make out of somewhat dulled colors.

• If you’re using PS, bind ‘step backward’ to control Z, not ‘undo.’  This is under keyboard shortcuts.  Set up a bunch of shortcuts that are the most convenient for you–personally, I only keep my left hand near the lower left region of my keyboard (my right hand is away from the keyboard and off to the right, drawing on the tablet), so I have all of my necessary shortcuts in that area.

This was a bit longer than I expected, but I figure that someone out there can get something out of it.  Cheers to you, if you do.

#teddy #auror #unresolved sexual tension

Prompts: @foxesandwands
Author: @queenofthyme

If you had told Harry Potter, back in his first year of Hogwarts, that he’d be sharing custody of a child with Draco Malfoy, he would have laughed. Loudly. But here he was, fifteen years later, and one of Teddy Lupin’s two legal guardians.

When Harry had accepted Remus’s offer to be Teddy’s godfather, although in the thick of war, he still never considered he’d actually have to raise someone else’s child. Teddy’s grandmother, Andromeda, had taken care of Teddy originally, which Harry was glad of - a 17 year old did not a father make. Still, he made sure to visit often. He knew what it was like to grow up without parents.

Harry wasn’t surprised that Draco visited just as often. Andromeda was his aunt after all, making Teddy his first cousin once removed.

Harry didn’t make a fuss the first time they’d bumped into each other at Andromeda’s, even though the last time they’d seen each other had been at Hogwarts, in the middle of a war, on opposite sides. He trusted Andromeda, and if she, as fiercely protective as she was, trusted Draco around Teddy, that was enough for Harry to do the same. Although, he still watched closely, curious to understand Draco’s behaviour.

Years past and Andromeda grew weary. She had already raised one child, and she was far too old to be chasing after another. As godfather, Harry knew it was his responsibility to take over as Teddy’s guardian, and no longer a teenager, he felt like he was ready. But Draco had insisted that it was he who should become guardian, as a blood relative.

They had argued like they might have back in their Hogwarts days, with taunts and snide jabs, even a  few hexes, before Andromeda put a stop to it. “How do either of you expect to raise a child if you still act like children yourselves?” She had yelled at them both, her words striking home as always.

Shared custody was Andromeda’s idea, but they both agreed it would be the best option for Teddy. He had already grown attached to both of them, and they both loved Teddy as if he was their own. On that, they were in agreement, if nothing else.

These days, they saw a lot of each other. Teddy made sure of that. They hadn’t quite reconciled all their differences, but they were civil, even polite to each other. They had to be for Teddy. But there was such a coldness to their interactions sometimes, that Harry wondered if it would be better if they just went at it, like they really wanted to. Said what they were really thinking.

Like that time when Draco dropped Teddy off at Harry’s office in the middle of a work day because he had an appointment, and Harry said, “Of course, no problem Draco. Please take your time,” but what he’d really wanted to say was, “You couldn’t have given me some warning so I could plan my day around this, you inconsiderate prat?”

Or the time Draco had taken Teddy on holiday and returned a day later than expected, and Harry said, “That’s okay, Draco, I’m glad you’re both back. I’m sure Teddy had a great time,” but what he’d really wanted to say was, “I thought you were both dead you selfish jerk, you never thought to owl ahead to let me know?”

Or last week when Draco had to reschedule their agreed custody routine because he had a date on Thursday night and Harry said, “Hope you have a lovely night,” but what he’d really wanted to say was, “I hope your date throws wine in your face and leaves you with the bill.”

It’s not like Teddy didn’t know what was going on. He was a perceptive kid. The whole situation was ridiculous.

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Matthew Mercer’s Raven Queen ™

I’ve been seeing a whole bunch of stuff being thrown around about the Raven Queen after the latest Talks Machina, mostly centering around the speech that could have happened if anyone in VM had tried to argue with the Raven Queen for Vax’s soul. For simplicity’s sake, just in case anyone hasn’t seen or read it, this is the speech Matt gave:

“Do you have idea how insignificant you are? You are the instruments of divinity. Everything you have accomplished is because we gave you the tools to accomplish it, for goals unforeseen to you that fit our needs and interests. You are nothing, and yet you come and beseech me this, after all I have done for you?”

And I get it, it’s incredibly rude! After everything VM has done, after everything they have bled for, struggled for, lived and died for, to call them insignificant at the moment of their greatest triumph? It’s a slap in the face right before she takes away someone who should have gotten the happy ending that everyone else was getting.

But I feel like maybe we’re forgetting a key element of the Raven Queen in the Critical Role setting.

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Okay, but listen, I’ve been thinking about this and I’m pretty sure that only a small part of the Justice League knows that Bruce is Batman and obviously, most of the rogues gallery is in the dark as well–but Selina is another story. Like, she has a record, compared to Bruce LOTS more people KNOW she’s Catwoman.

So basically, if she agrees to marry Bruce, any romantic relationship she has with Batman is out the window when they’re out and about. Like, strictly professional when they’re around other people.

I can see the hilarity that would come out of it.

Like, imagine 99% of the Rogues gallery tracking him down after “The Future Mrs. Wayne?” gets slapped all across the tabloids. And at first, Bruce is like, shit…wtf? Because night after night he’s got Harvey and Jervis and Fries hunting him down.

But instead of trying to kill him they’re all, “We’re really sorry about this whole Bruce Wayne thing. We were really rooting for you and Selina.” 

The only ones that don’t come to congratulate him are Ivy and Harley (and possibly Eddie since last I checked he DID know Bruce’s identity), because they’re busy tracking Selina down and being all, “Well, good for you. You finally ditched the Bat. He was never any good for you anyways.” 

(She laughs so hard when she finally gets away from them, she can barely breathe, let alone talk, and Bruce spends like ten minutes convinced that Harley dosed her with Joker gas before she can finally get the whole story out.)

And then there’s the Justice League and, of course, the members that know Bruce congratulate him (though most of them are confused as to how this happened). 

But there are the ones that only know Batman and they’re whispering behind his back about how sad it is, because they know Batman has a thing for Catwoman, but he’s too emotionally constipated to act on those feelings.

 And then, she comes in for a mission (because they need her to steal something obs) and there’s no denying (even though they do a remarkable job of toning it down) that there’s still something between them. And, Bruce, being Bruce, does something stupidly heroic and almost gets himself killed, which naturally gets a reaction from Selina. 

So you end up with, I dunno, Hal (I have no idea who in the JLA actually knows Bruce’s secret identity and who doesn’t rn) approaching him later–probably as he’s ripping out IVs–and being all, “Listen, I know I’m the last person who should be giving anyone advice on romance…Hell, I don’t know why I’m even bothering it’s not like you’ll listen to me…or at all, but you know, I think Catwoman still has feelings for you and you should act on that before she gets married to that Wayne dude. I mean, I’d prefer Wayne over you, even if he is a flake, but I think she might only be with him because she’s given up on you.” 

I mean, they could even go as far as to have, someone not in the know catch them having a private moment and being all, “OMG, Selina does Bruce know you spend your nights making out with Batman?” and at this point, Bruce is like five minutes away from deciding that keeping his identity secret is NOT worth this headache. 

But Selina just looks whoever it is in the eye and calmly says, “Sometimes he joins us.” 

And Bruce has to excuse himself, because Batman does NOT laugh, but oh boy, does he love his wife. 

(Even better, if it’s someone who’s friend with Nightwing, so the next time they see him, they ask if he knew that his mentor is part of a threesome with Bruce Wayne and Catwoman. You KNOW, Dick would piss himself laughing.)

Cracker Jacks and kiss cams

Summary: A story in which Bucky Barnes is very smitten, there’s a baseball game between the New York Mets and the Chicago Cubs, and Cracker Jacks are consumed.

Prompt: “I never thought you’d break my heart”
Characters: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: None. A bit of language maybe, but this is all just sappy fluff. 

A/N: This is my submission for @just-some-drabbles​ Rom-Com writing challenge, thanks for letting me join last minute and congratulations on reaching 4k! This story came about because I really love baseball, I really love the Chicago Cubs, and I really love Bucky Barnes, so all in all, it felt like a win-win.

MASTERLIST

(Bucky, opening Google search)

“how do you know if a woman is interested”
“when do you know if a woman wants to kiss you”
“how to tell a woman you love her without saying it”
“why do I suck at talking to her”
“oh my god why can’t I just ask her out” 

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Recovery - Self Harm

Several beautiful and brave kittens have messaged me recently asking for advice on self harm, so I wanted to do a post addressing the topic. Your usual post will be up tomorrow instead, and I have put the info behind a read more for those who might find the discussion potentially triggering.

Also a reminder that I try to make myself available on messenger if you need to chat, or need more immediate attention 😺 💖

Be safe, my little pumpkins! I love you and you are doing so well!

CW/TW SELF HARM

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Multiverse Lovers - Part Two -Stiles Stilinski

Title: The Happenings of Beacon Hills

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski/Reader

Word Count: 8,436

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Public Sex, Jeep Sex, Fingering, Hand Job, Making Out with Stiles because who wouldn’t?, Feeling, Sexy Massages, Dirty Talking, Orgasm Denial, Multiple Orgasms

Notes: Prepare your holy water, because it’s about to get real. 

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

The jostling of the moving car bumped you left and right, the almost inaudible chug of the engine the first sound you could make out. Your eyes clenched tightly, a small stream of sunlight hitting them through the window. Your mind was slow to process what was going on and where you were, the worn leather of the seats making your back sweat profusely.

Wait, you thought to yourself, your eyes cracking open to stare at the roof of the vehicle above your head. Why am I in a car? The last thing I remember was falling asleep on the roof…

You sat up startled, glancing around at your surroundings hoping to figure out where you were and what was going on. A million thoughts were running through your mind, none of them making any sense. You glanced out the window in front of you, watching the trees pass by. You were in a moving vehicle, make and model unknown, person driving it most likely having kidnapped you.

“Glad to see you are finally awake,” the driver spoke. You glanced at the person, meeting their eyes through the rear-view mirror. The male’s honey brown eyes sparkled in the sunlight, but more than familiar to your well-trained eyes. “Did you have a good nap?”

Your mouth fell open, not believing what you were looking at.

Stiles Stilinski is right in front of me. What the fuck?

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BTS scenarios: Cheering him up when he feels self-conscious

Originally posted by arkysal

Kim Seokjin/Jin

 There was something different about Jin that day. He wasn’t his usual bubbly self but quiet, almost invisible, ghost of Kim Seokjin. He didn’t try to make you laugh during breakfast when you were drinking tea. It worried you, but at the same time you didn’t want to be nosy. You knew damn well how easy it was to set him off when he was visibly stressed. Limited on choices you decided to wait for him to show signs that he wanted comfort from you.

 Good thing it was the day you tagged along for another show. You could watch Jin’s lack of interaction with other people. Every time somebody pointed that out he just laughed blaming his fatigue. Of course he was tired but neither you nor his bandmates believed it to be the reason behind his blank face.

 You stood by the wall, observing everyone move around. Minutes passed in a rush and your head started to spin at the thick atmosphere. Thankfully the stylist asked you to help Jin with his collar and tie. You walked close to him and instantly grabbed at the material with delicacy. While shifting the cables to his microphone you realized that Seokjin avoided looking at you. At first dark thoughts clouded your mind, but you pushed them aside with all your strength.

“Is the wire bothering you anywhere?” Although you let go of his collar, you stayed still in close proximity to him. 

 At the question he finally looked at you. Your eyes met for a short moment before his gaze moved somewhere to your right. He shook his head faintly without moving any other part of his body. You sighed and grabbed his shoulders to shake him a bit. Jin gave you a weird glance as he tried to pull out of your grip.

 Although it hurt, you didn’t let go of him. You were awkwardly struggling with each other for a longer moment until you decided it was really enough.

“Now, is it bothering you anywhere?” You asked once more. Again, he shook his head, but this time his eyes remained on you.

 You smiled faintly and tied his tie. When done, your index finger trailed up the fabric to stab his chin playfully. He was more confused than amused by your behavior yet he kept his mouth shut. Unfortunately for him you weren’t the one to give up on Jin.

“Oh, here’s a thing I forgot to give you!” You exclaimed after an idea formed in your brain.

 He observed your hand as you hid it in inside pocket of your jean jacket. You searched for a few seconds until you pulled out fingers shaped in heart. Your eyes were hungrily tracking his reaction.

 A quiet snort left his nostrils and Jin finally smiled for real at you. You returned a five times wider one and put the finger heart in the small pocket on his chest. The action had expected result. Your boyfriend relaxed enough to look you deep in the eyes. Encouraged by his positive response you dared to approach him close enough for you to lay your forearms on his chest. Your hands smoothed the material as you looked up from it with the gentlest expression you could make.

“I’m glad you accepted my heart.”

“It would be hard not to.”

“Did I tell you already that you look really handsome in that suit or was I screaming it in my mind this whole time?”

 His smile widened even more at that. His eyes moved down to look at his right hand that hung in the air. You grabbed it along with the left one without losing sight of his face and brought them up so you could kiss each one of his fingers. Jin’s eyes followed your lips hungrily taking in your adoration for his least favourite part of his body. When you finished his glance returned to meet yours. Jin let his hands hold your cheeks so he could kiss you properly. 

“Can you do one thing for me when on the stage?” You asked when he pulled away.

“Anything.” He smiled with pure adoration.

“When you’ll be singing your solo, can you take out the heart so I know you still have it? I want a close shot at you.”

 Jin gave you a weird glance but nodded lively.

Originally posted by yoongijae

Min Yoongi/Suga

 Yoongi disliked doing anything and it was a well-known fact. Not only you and his closest coworkers had an idea but also his fans were aware of that so-called hobby of his. That’s why you didn’t make a big deal out of his stay in bed. At least at first. You got worried when the bedroom door remained closed at 2 p.m. and frantic when nothing changed an hour later. Aware that he was probably hungry by that time, you prepared breakfast and decided to go to him. You tip toed to the doors and turned the doorknob carefully.

 It was weird to act this way in the middle of the day, but the dread that hid in you made you act carefully. Firstly, only your head leaned out. Room was dark as the curtains blocked the daylight. Still you could see Yoongi’s body resting under covers. You listened for a moment but when steady breathing didn’t reach your ears you risked walking inside. You moved to his side of bed and sat on it’s edge, centimeters from your boyfriend. Then you put kitchenware on his night stand and turned to him. He laid on his side facing wall on yours. Aware of how easily one could annoy half-asleep Yoongi you hesitated before laying fingers on his arm. You stroked it gently then leaned froward to look at his face.

 You were surprised to find him awake and shocked to see how puffy and red his face was. Dry paths of tears glistened on his cheeks and nose. If it wasn’t enough, his lower lip was bleeding probably from biting on it. Your other hand bushed his fringe to reveal his eyes, but he stubbornly kept them away from you. Through the whole process of you finding out about his miserable state he didn’t make a single movement to acknowledge your presence. Almost as if you weren’t there.

“Yoongi…” You whispered shaken by his state.

 He ignored you although he heard you for sure. A memory of his voice telling you to leave him alone resurfaced in your mind. But you weren’t able to leave him alone in his misery. He could lash out at you at any moment. Your mind kept repeating the same sentence over and over again yet your body was deaf to it. Carefully you changed position so your knee was touching his back while you could still look at his face.

 Afraid of his motionless state you called him again but more quiet. Once more he didn’t answer. His eyes remained glued to the wall on the other end of the room. You felt your own blood turn cold when his lids moved but he just blinked.

“I made you breakfast.” Your lips ghosted above his arm as you told him. “You must be hungry.”

 He remained as he was. You knew that you wouldn’t get more and moved up after kissing his skin softly. Your walk to the door was interrupted when you heard him finally move under covers. You turned around to find him staring back. His face was blank but you smiled nonetheless.

“I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”

 Yoongi let you leave him alone although he wanted you to stay with him. He needed your comforting words and warmth of your body to make him feel better. Yet he couldn’t find strength in himself to ask that of you. After a couple of minutes he looked to his left and grabbed the plate you left there. He knew that it had taken you a lot of time to prepare. Considering how pancakes were cut to resemble a head. Most likely his head. He judged from the pierced ears. Around the head laid rays of sunshine. The whole work looked like breakfast for a child not a grown-ass man like Yoongi. But he thought it was cute anyway and grabbed one of the stripes to bite it.

 He only realized that he was really hungry when he finished the whole plate. Aware of his loneliness he dared to lick the powdered sugar off it. When he put the plate back, door opened to reveal you with victorious smile on your face. You strode over to the bed and sat in front of him.

“Now that you ate enough sugar, can you come out and spend the day with me?” You asked.

 Yoongi’s eyes fell down to stare at his lap. His hands ran up his face and he let out a loud sigh. You were afraid to push him too much but then you noticed a bit of sugar on the top of his nose. Your finger wiped it off and transported it to your mouth. You licked off the sweetness meanwhile smiling at his surprised face.

“I’ve been blessed with the sugar off the sweetest man on Earth.”

 His face softened, your most beloved expression replacing the previous one. His hand caught yours and gripped on it tightly. No words needed.

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You Absolute Dip -- Steve Harrington

Written by @rune-of-a-writer

Request: “can you do an imagine where steve has liked reader for a while but hasnt told her so, then when in his fight with billy she jumps on billys back to get him to stop hitting steve. then when they all go in the tunnels to burn it he confesses to her”

Warnings: Violence. Cussing.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Steve had liked you for a while, but there had never been a good chance to tell you. But now, seeing you on top of Billy Hargrove’s back like some kind of bull rider, now seems like his only chance.

Words: 2,225

Listen To: Nervous (Acoustic Version) by Gavin James

Gif Creds: @stevrogers

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Traffic Teases

warnings: sub!Tom, please don’t tease and drive, handjobs, a nsfw gif, riding tom, slight overstimulation

summary: picking your boyfriend up from the gym as you catch a glimpse of him hot and sweaty, now who wouldn’t be turned on by that?

word count: 2,019 

tag list: @maggie-starz

A smile came across your face once you parked your black subcompact car just near the vicinity where Tom’s gym was it. You pushed back the car door shut as you clutched onto your wallet whilst slowly heading towards the entrance of the impressively vast building, with it being very spacious inside whilst being filled with punching bags, yoga mats, mini obstacle courses, and barbells.

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Passionfruit | 3

“To you, matters of the heart have always been simple. You’ve always lived by three rules: you don’t do emotions, you don’t do attachment, and you don’t do love. That is, until you meet the enigma that is Kim Namjoon- a man who shakes your entire world upside down.”

pairing: namjoon x reader
genre: smut, angst
wordcount: 8.4k

part one | two | three

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College AU Headcanon

Jimin’s your typical sweet, happy-go-lucky dance major that smiles at everyone and buys coffee for the person behind him whenever he can because he’s just that nice, and Jungkook is his big, scary, badboy boyfriend that never talks to anyone unless absolutely necessary and is almost always seen in a leather jacket. 

They aren’t ashamed of their relationship in the slightest but that doesn’t mean that they don’t notice the looks they get when Jimin practically skips around campus with a thousand watt smile as he drags a tired and grumbling Jungkook around behind him. 

Before they got together, Jimin was the sweetest, most patient person on campus. His presence alone would brighten anyone’s day. Sometimes, when he’d go to the library to study, there wouldn’t be any seats left and so he’d settle for sitting on the floor in the back. And sometimes people were careless and rude and ended up stepping on his papers. But he was too nice to say anything.

Once they started dating, Jungkook changed everything. No one so much as touched him in the halls, and the same table was always mysteriously empty when he’d go to the library. His tattoos and piercings made people nervous, even if they’d never met him before. In all honestly, Jungkook had never done a damn thing to anyone. Maybe he got in a few scuffles back in high school, a few heated arguments at parties, but nothing that would justify the reputation he’d received. 

Honestly, Jungkook was just a big sweetheart that wasn’t good at talking to people and liked tattoos and piercings. So sue him for being awkward and appreciating art. 

Jungkook would get up early to walk Jimin to dance practice, even if he grumbled about being up at 6am while he did it. Dressed in sweatpants, a hoodie, and whichever beanie he could grab on the way out the door, Jungkook would lace their fingers together as they crossed the college campus, never paying any attention to the people staring at them.

Jimin would always make them breakfast whenever they had a day to themselves, bringing it in to the bedroom before crawling on top of a sleeping, shirtless Jungkook. He’d press kisses to Jungkook’s spine, working up until he reached his shoulder blades, then his neck, to his jaw, and finally, his lips. And Jungkook would be awake by the time Jimin would kiss him chastely, only to be pulled back into a more heated kiss after he’d roll over. 

“Good morning, handsome.” Jimin would grin and give Jungkook another peck as he blinked up at him, all sleepy and soft. 

“G’morning, baby.” Jungkook would hum back as Jimin traced the tattoos across his chest, relishing the weight of Jimin on his stomach and the feeling of his thighs around his ribs.

Those mornings would be spent in bed, Jimin sat on Jungkook’s lap as they ate, feeding each other bites, even as cheesy as it was. Later, they’d end up on the couch, Jungkook in sweatpants and Jimin in boxers as they lounged around, not really paying attention to the television as much as they were to each other.

And Jimin would always meet Jungkook outside the lecture hall for his music production class so they could grab lunch together. He’d smile and wave at him from across the hall as people trickled out the door before getting swallowed by the mass of students. As embarrassing as Jungkook would claim it to be, he couldn’t help the lopsided grin that would form when Jimin would jump up to stand on the bench above everyone. He’d only chuckle and let Jimin drape himself across his back before piggybacking him out the door. 

Sometimes it was hard on Jungkook. The stares and comments would get to be a bit too much and he’d just want to hide. But he couldn’t do that, so he’d lace his fingers with Jimin’s and squeeze until he looked away from whatever he’d been looking at. And Jimin would know; he always did. 

As sweet as Jimin may be, more people had seen him lose his cool than Jungkook. And it was always for the “badboy” himself.

“He’s no good.”

“Look at those tattoos, he’s a delinquent.”

“He’ll just end up in prison.”

Jimin was always the first person to jump to Jungkook’s defense, regardless of how many times he’d claim that they didn’t bother him. 

“Alright, listen up jackass-.” He’d scold people for saying such things about his boyfriend and it usually ended with Jungkook holding him back and tugging him in the opposite direction.

“They aren’t worth it.” He’d have to whisper into Jimin’s ear, quietly trying to calm his boyfriend’s raging fury as he glared at some middle-aged businessman from across the sidewalk.

“Baby,” Jimin would take Jungkook’s face in his hands, thumb grazing his lip ring, “I’m not going to let them talk about you like that.”

“Babe, I told you it doesn’t-”

“I know you only say that because you know how upset I get about it.”

Jungkook would sigh, knowing that he’d been figured out. Jimin would press a kiss to his lips and pull him into a hug, glaring at the businessman and flipping him the bird before pulling Jungkook away. They’d end up outside an ice cream shop, Jimin sitting back against the building as Jungkook laid his head in his lap. 

“I don’t care what anyone says,” Jimin would start, aggressively licking the ice cream cone in his hand, “you’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met.”

Jungkook would grin up at Jimin before tugging him down my his collar to kiss him. Afterwards, he’d lick his lips and smirk.

“I don’t know, babe. You’re pretty sweet yourself.”

And Jimin would just roll his eyes and let Jungkook kiss him again, pretending that he wasn’t just licking into his mouth for the ice cream. He’d nip at Jungkook’s lip, gently tugging on his lip ring until he’d groan and drag Jimin home.

paint heaven and anger the gods

so the trailer for miss hokusai advertised one type of movie, and then the actual movie was …. something else entirely. but the trailer gave me ideas, so here they are:

there is girl –

no.

there is woman –

no.

there is a young woman, an old girl, and she has the eyes of youth but the weight upon her shoulders is that of age. or perhaps it is the other way around. perhaps she has the eyes of age, but upon her shoulder is the weightlessness of youth, of ignorance.

there she is, whatever she is.

her name is kana.

she is the daughter of a famous painter, known as juro. he is a man larger than life, and he paints wonderful things. he takes what is ugly, and makes it beautiful. he paints an unhandsome woman as a goddess, a sneering merchant as a king, a dirty city as a glowing capitol. he leaves all he touches brighter than it was found.

kana is not like her father.

she is a painter, but she is not famous. she has a mother she doesn’t speak to, and younger sister she visits as much as she can. she has pushed them both aside to follow her father, to sit with him in dirty shacks putting ink to paper as she does her best to make beautiful things. she throws off the expectations of her gender, of her station, of anything and everything in her pursuit to be a master painter.

technique is easy. she completes half of her father’s painting while he drinks, while he whores, while he seduces lords and ladies, while he paints empty things for empty people, while he leaves her alone in their dirty shacks. she can do the detail work, has a steady hand and a sharp eye, but when it comes to the whole picture – it is left lacking.

“her work lacks your beauty,” an old man says, talking to her old father while she kneels in the corner, ink staining her hands, the floor, ink just – staining.

“of course it does,” her father says, offhand. “how can she paint what she does not know?”

kana never expected lack of knowledge to be her downfall.

so that night when her father is gone, she does not stay in to work. instead kana paints her face, wears a kimono that’s too small on her, and goes to the worst part of the city, to where the alleyways and walls are stained red by the glow of the lanterns.

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Strip It Down

A Bucky Barnes AU

Character Pairing: Stripper!Bucky Barnes x Female Stripper!Reader

Word Count: 1,992 (whew, barely made it)

Warnings: NSFW 18+ Smut, male and female stripping, strip club scenes, sexual situations/penetration, dirty dancing, language. 

A/N: This is my submission for @bucky-plums-barnes 8,000 Follower Writing Challenge! Gen is amazing and deserves all the love in the world! 

I enjoyed writing Strip It Down WAY too much… I want to continue this…

Prompt: #26. “Well, my normal fee is $500, but seeing that it’s for you, I’m going to need it in advance.” 

The crowd loved Bucky.

Both the men and the women.

You didn’t blame them though. He owned that stage. His last set of the night was always his money maker.

Standing off to the side of the stage you peeked over the edge of the curtain at the screaming women that were vying for his attention. The sea of green bills that pooled around his feet was enough to pay your monthly rent… twice.

The low bass vibrated through the floors as Bucky shed the last piece clothing that was ethically possible. The screams, catcalls and hollers from the crowd drowned out the words to the song. You clutched your robe tighter to your body as you watched him move.

He moved like sex.

He crouched down on his hands and knees, prowling across the stage like a wolf. His hair was falling out of the bun at the back of his head, the loose tendrils framing his face. His back muscles bunched and stretched with each movement. He stopped and pumped his hips in time to the beat. God, to be underneath him and feel those powerful strokes.

Scanning the crowd again, you knew you weren’t the only one in the house tonight thinking that exact same thing.

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dangerous waters (m) | pkjm

fratboy!jimin smut
a sleazy fratboy thinks he could get any girl he wants, until he meets you
word count: 2774
genre: smut SMUT!! SMUT!! S MU T 
warning: sleazy jimin, dom!jimin, explicit language, oral

[a/n]: you’ve been warned!!! this is mature content read at own risk !! this is my FIRST smut EVER !! i apologize in advance if its super bad and super cringe like i have no idea wtf i was doing, i just wrote and props to ppl who write smut bc that shit is hard 

Originally posted by 9taefox


You had a huge biochemistry lab the next morning, a calculus test right after, and a literature lecture after bunch. Instead of studying for your classes and sleeping early, you were at some random fraternity party that your friend, Hoseok, dragged you to.

Parties weren’t ever really your scene. You were, a lack for a better term, a goody two shoes. You enjoyed staying in and reading. Cafes, libraries, and parks were your favorite places. You were an overall excellent student, almost top of the class with outstanding remarks. You studied whenever you had the chance to, it was the only way you were able to keep up with classes.

You weren’t completely cookie cutter though. Occasionally, you went to parties when workload was minimal and you didn’t despise frats/sororities. Some of your friends were in sororities and you usually went to their parties, not anyone you were unfamiliar with.

However, Hoseok begged you to join him at the campus’ most popular fraternity’s party. That specific frat had the cutest, hottest boys. They maintained the highest number of hook ups in one night and parties in one week. You avoided them at all cost because even though they were attractive, they were all assholes. 

Their parties were usually majority guys and a sprinkle of girls. You were extremely hesitant, but Hoseok wouldn’t stop messing up your lecture notes until you gave in.

“Geez, Hoseok. There are literally no girls here.” You whispered as you made your way to the kitchen. His laugh was barely audible over the heavy music they were playing. 

“They’re probably all upstairs..” He paused and pointed to the closed rooms. “In the rooms.” 

“That’s so gross.” You rolled your eyes and poured yourself a drink. Their fruit punch was spiked and you almost puked at the first sip. “This is gross.”

“Your tongue becomes numb after a few more sips.” Hoseok’s head darted towards the door. A small group of girls from the sorority down the street had entered. “Enjoy yourself, (Y/N).” He smirked before heading towards them.

“Hoseok—” It was too late. You lost your only friend to the crowd. Glancing around, you noticed that people were either drinking, smoking, or dancing. You weren’t really into any of that. You were regretting your decision of showing up.

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decisions

summary; shawn is forced to choose between you and his girlfriend
a/n; seven pages of angst and drama all in one – my fav ;))

PART TWO || PART THREE

MASTERLIST || REQUEST


“Where’s Shawn?” Matt and your friends asked you for what must’ve been the tenth time tonight. 

You finished setting the last blanket over the couch as you claimed your favorite pillows for the night ahead of you. 

“Not sure,” You answered. “I’ve tried texting him for the past 15 minutes. The boy never checks his texts,” You laugh it off as you head to the kitchen to bring the two bowls of popcorn into the living room.

Shawn, Geoff, Ian, and Matt had been in town from Shawn’s tour for the last few days, and the five of you finally found a time to hang out again. You had all missed each other and since the tour had just wrapped up, everyone found tonight as the perfect opportunity to catch up. You had met the four boys through Shawn and although you had only known them for a few years, they felt like your brothers. They looked out for you and talked to you almost every day.

Shawn on the other hand, had been your best friend since middle school. The two of you met in English class in seventh grade and quickly bonded over each other’s love for Harry Potter and music. Although neither of you were the most popular in school, you and Shawn always had each other’s back through the years. He had brought smiles on your face during your worst moments, stayed up late with you during nights you couldn’t sleep, and given you advice that has stuck with you throughout the years. In turn, you supported Shawn’s music when the other kids at school didn’t, listened to his first song that he wrote, and cheered with him when he found out that he had just gotten his first major award show nomination. Now here you guys were, one year out of high school, and still partners in crime. You couldn’t of asked for anyone better to fill in the position as your best friend.

Everyone had gathered at Ian and Geoff’s place for a traditional movie night, but your best friend had been a no-show for the past half hour. Everyone including yourself was beginning to become impatient as everyone began making a dent into the stash of snacks before the first movie even played. You didn’t want to begin the night without him, but he had showed no signs of arriving any time soon.

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Why We Need to Appreciate Padmé Amidala

In spirit of #SWisagirlthingtoo making its way around Twitter, I thought now would be the perfect time to make a post I’ve been wanting to write for a while. Star Wars up until recently has not given much attention to its heroines, perhaps with the exception of the iconic Princess and General Leia Organa. It is incredibly sad that it has taken this long for the franchise to realise that characters such as Leia, Padmé and Rey (as well as the many animated heroines we have met such as Ahsoka and Hera) have been and will forever continue to be definitive factors in the way many girls have and will grow up.

When it comes to Star Wars, I loved Leia and I love Rey, but they are both not the heroine I connected with. I connected with former Queen and then Senator Padmé Amidala from the highly criticised (although increasingly less so) prequels and then again in the animated series, Star Wars: The Clone Wars. Any Padmé fan knows that loving her as a character most often means you’ll often be told that in the end she did ‘nothing but cry over Anakin’ or is in no way comparable to her daughter, you’ll find it frustrating that no reference is made to her at all following Episode III and you’ll know that she has little to no presence in merchandising even when you are more than willing to throw coins down Disney’s way for her.

But Padmé deserves to overcome all of the above. Padmé constantly has to battle against both what people expected her to be (arguably a Leia clone) and the often restrictive and limiting definitions of what makes a “strong female character”, especially in pop culture. Regardless, here is why Padmé is such an underappreciated and amazing character.

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— ask and you shall receive | pt 4—final (m)

pairing— jung hoseok x reader, sugar daddy! hoseok
genre/warnings— angst, romance, fluff, smut
words—9,405

:: summary— it’s been a couple of months since you and your sugar daddy changed your arrangement and while all has been well, practically floating on cloud 9, something is about to happen that will drop kick you back into reality…

  » pt 1 :: pt 2 :: pt 3 :: pt 4  ✓

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