i actually really hate these but i gotta go somewhere and i want these posted

supersquiddy  asked:

Werid question but how do you get your traditional artwork to look so smooth but also sketchy? If that makes sense.

My main things are (this turned out to be a lot longer than I thought! Srry!)

Loose lines: draw with your whole arm if you can! (drawing anchored to your wrist can lead to Carpal tunnel syndrome.. and no one wants that)

Full lines: try to keep your lines fluid, fast and long (as opposed to short and scratchy lines that make one big line) look for YouTube videos on gesture drawing! Get things down quick and flesh them out later, usually the first thing we mark down will be the most accurate when doing gestures!

Sketch lightly: use heavy lines sparingly! They can really define a sketch but be sparing, there can be too much of a good thing. I always start sketches almost invisibly light to map out the bare bones of my drawings! Then because they’re so light, you don’t have to erase them if you don’t want to!

Shapes: shapes r your friends!! 🌸 use shapes to get the (figurative or literal) skeleton down!! Almost anything can be boiled down to basic shapes!

REFERENCE: IT! IS! OK! TO! REFERENCE! I can’t stress this enough, free reference photo databases are just a google away! Learn that anatomy fam! Even if you’re doing cartoons, it will be so much easier with the anatomical knowledge! Also, I have no problem with learning artists referencing my art when starting out with drawing.. 2 RULES TO REFERENCING PRE-EXISTING ART: 1) don’t claim it’s your art. 2) ask the artist if it’s cool first! Some aren’t okay with it and ya gotta respect it! ❤Also try to get off the crutch of referencing pre-existing art quickly! Referencing art helps you practice, but nothing beats referencing from real, organic life, because that’s where your style will come out.

Simplify: esp. pertaining to expressions, the more you complicate things, the harder it will be for it to read. It will get lost among the busyness. Look at the drawing as a whole as opposed to only paying attention for details. Don’t be concerned with making a masterpiece!! Sketchbooks should be messy!

Get back to basics: anatomy, colour theory and the elements of design!!! they help a whole heck of a lot!!! Never be satisfied with your knowledge of these basic things bc you learned them in like kindergarten,, okay????

A(cting)RT: you can convey a LOT if you have the mindset of telling a story with your sketch!

Cheap: don’t worry abt using fancy shmancy supplies! I get mine from the dollar store (sketchbook, erasers and mechanical pencils! Definitely get good paper if ur using copics or high quality markers but like I literally only sketch traditionally w pencil… ) I find I’m so scared to use expensive sketchbooks that I hardly draw in them and I hate everything I draw. I go through like 1 or more sketchbooks a month so… that would rack up quick if I was using like $20.00 sketchbooks instead of $2.00 ones.

Listen: Listen to music or podcasts or audio books or drawing tutorials if it helps!! It can sometimes even influence the mood of your drawing :0

Sketch often: every day if you can!! It’s a good habit if you want to get better!! And therapeutic!!!

Accept CONSTRUCTIVE criticism!!: It’s not an insult! It’s someone else’s view! Get critiqued often! And actually listen!! Know the difference between constructive and destructive!! Also join a community! Meet other artist! Collaborate! Art isn’t a competition! ❤

quick round!

Study art history: they’re famous for a reason!

Draw inspiration from everywhere!

When referencing, draw what you see, not what you know!

Think about drawing in 3D, more like it’s sculpting instead of drawing! Everything is made of flat plains and will cast shadows!!

If you’re up to it, challenge yourself! You’ll only get better if you step out of your comfort zone! Try to draw one new thing each sketching session!

Lastly

Don’t stress!: most important drawing tip! Drawing is supposed to be fun and therapeutic because it doesn’t have to be anything! All art is art and everyone who makes art is an artist, it’s not some exclusive club, we all start somewhere! This is your art journey! Enjoy the ride!

I know you just wanted to know about how I sketch but I couldn’t help myself!!! Sorry! Hope this helps! 🌸
-hanna ❤

SPN 12x16 codafic

destiel
1k, PG
Cas still gets cell reception in Heaven because of plot convenience :)


“You should’ve seen her, Cas.” Dean smiled a little. “She was so confident working the case and fighting off creeps. Hell, she beat the odds on that cure.”

That’s our girl, he wanted to say but didn’t, because that would be weird and where did that come from, anyway? Must’ve been something in the hotel mints he ate. Or maybe in the swimming pool water…

“I am grateful to hear she’s fine now. I will admit, when I saw your text earlier, I feared the worst.”

Dean gripped the wheel tighter with the hand not holding his phone, keeping an eye out for Sam. He’d made the call to Cas while Sam was stocking up on supplies before they headed back to the bunker. From his position, he would be able to see Sam approach the parked car. He really didn’t want to deal with Sam’s ribbing about how often Dean was calling Cas lately. It always reminded him of the fact that he very much didn’t want to think about why going more than a few days without talking to Cas made him anxious.

“Sorry man, that was a dick move, making you worry like that.” Dean had regretted that text the moment he’d sent it, but at the time he hadn’t been thinking clearly. His thoughts had been filled with worry for Claire, pain and horror at the thought of losing her, but also a need to contact Cas and let him know.

Cas had a history with her, after all. He felt responsible for her. Dean had felt strongly that he’d deserved to know what was going on with her. But in his hurry to contact Cas he hadn’t considered that even if Cas wanted to rush over to be with Claire, he couldn’t.

Sometimes Dean forgot that Cas couldn’t use his wings anymore.

It was cruel, what he’d done. And Dean felt guilty for it now. So when he saw the missed call from Cas after Sam and him had waved goodbye to Claire, he knew he owed it to Cas to call him and update him on the situation.

“It’s okay, Dean. I understand why you did it and I appreciate that you even thought of me while you must have had other things on your mind.”

Dean hated it - the way Cas so casually downplayed his importance. As if it was a given that Dean wouldn’t think about him at all, as if that was natural and normal. He gritted his teeth, trying to keep his annoyance in check.

“I know how important she is to you, Cas. Even if I hadn’t sent that text then, I would’ve called you immediately after the hunt was over, like I’m doing now. You deserve to know what’s going on with her. Hell, she even said she misses you.”

During their dinner the night before, Claire had not-so-casually asked about Cas. “So, speaking of creeps, where’s everyone’s favourite flasher coat wearing angel?” she’d asked.

“She tried to hide it, of course, but she was disappointed that you weren’t here. She misses you.” She’s not the only one. “Said she wants you to give her a call. Actually her exact words were: ‘tell that loser to call me sometime. He still owes me for, like, four birthdays.’”

Cas chuckled at Dean’s impression of her. Dean was glad to hear the sound.

“I’ll be sure to do that. I do indeed still owe her a few birthday presents. What do you think she would want?”

“Honestly, man, I’m pretty sure she just wants to hang out with you, though she’d rather die than admit it. She’s a teenager, after all.” Dean was probably breaking some kind of ‘cool older brother’ code by saying this, but – as he’d come to realize in the past few days - his feelings towards her were more parental than brotherly, anyway, so he didn’t feel too bad for ratting her out.

“Oh.” Cas was quiet for a few seconds.

“Yeah, and, uh, I wouldn’t mind coming with you. I know I just saw her, but I’d like to hang out with the kid while nobody’s in mortal peril, you know?” Dean had no idea why he was saying this, but it was true. He would like to hang out with Claire and Cas. Maybe they could hit a county fair, somewhere. Do some really cheesy, family things that would embarrass the hell out of Claire. Yeah, that’d be fun.

“I would like that very much, Dean.” The open affection in Cas’s voice made something not unpleasant squeeze in Dean’s gut. “I look forward to it as soon as my current mission is over.”

At the mention of Cas’s mission, all thoughts of cotton candy, shooting galleries and teddy bear prizes were chased from Dean’s mind. He grimaced at the reminder of Lucifer, Kelly, and the Nephilim. Right, this was their life. They never actually got a break.

“I hear you, buddy. Anyway,” he said, seeing Sam walk out of the convenience store, “I gotta go now. Keep me posted, you hear? Even if you don’t make any progress. I don’t like it when you go dark for too long.”

It was an admission he probably shouldn’t be making but if it encouraged Cas to text or call him more frequently, he really didn’t care.

“I will, Dean. Take care of yourself.”

“You too.” He hung up just as Sam opened the car door.

That night, he dreamed of multi-coloured rubber ducks, Ferris wheels, bouncing blonde curls, and smiling blue eyes.

(tag list under the cut)

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spitfirechick  asked:

If you're taking prompts, could you do #83 from the "99 ways to say I love you" for NurseyDex please?

(sorry, this took me a little while! thanks for your patience!!)

83. “Stay there. I’m coming to get you.”

At first, all he means to do is knock on Chowder’s door and sleep on his floor. He’s done it before; it gives him time to think and vent if he needs to, and then by the morning he’s usually ready to apologize, as is Dex. But even if he’s not, he knows that his wonderful, amazing goalie friend will always let him stay a few hours longer, because he’s Chowder and he’s far too polite to kick Nursey out when he has no place else to go.

Who apologizes first depends on a number of things. Sometimes it’s Dex who taps once or twice on C’s door with an invitation to walk to Annie’s, hands fidgeting and tired eyes examining the floor. Other times it’s Nursey who slips a note under their door, lunch? or Walk me to class?, before slipping outside to wait for Dex on the front porch.

But this wasn’t like any fight they’d had before; this time, there was no ‘usually’ or ‘sometimes’ that applied. It wasn’t about money or gifts or parents. They hadn’t lost a game, neither had had a particularly bad day, and they had told everyone who mattered a month ago. Together.

This was two in the morning, running on empty, things you don’t mean but can’t take back, and yelling that woke up the entire Haus - even Chowder, who’s slept through more of their arguments than Nursey can count.

So when Dex suggests he leave (at the top of his lungs), Nursey doesn’t even bother grabbing a jacket, just brushes past a concerned Chowder, a cranky Bitty, a solemn Whiskey and a confused Tango and leaves. 

He walks. Where, he isn’t really paying attention, but he’s wide awake and he can’t stop himself from replaying their fight over and over in his head. He knows he messed up, knows he should’ve just gone to bed when Dex snapped at him. But as much as he could blame himself for not being the bigger person, Dex shouldn’t have taken it all out on him, and he knows that they’re both to blame for letting it get this far.

They’ll always be like this, Nursey thinks, too reactive for their own good. He’d try to be optimistic, convince himself that it’s lack of maturity, sleep, or any number of things, but by now he knows better. It’s frustrating, because while he loves a challenge (and what else is Dex, really, if not a challenge), he hates when Dex folds in on himself. There’s always that point in an argument when someone realizes they’re going to lose, but unfortunately for them, realizing that you’re going to lose does not mean conceding your point. Instead, they will inevitably get stuck in some endless loop of you’re wrong, I’m right, every time. 

The thing is, it’s no longer a challenge if there’s no way to win.

With a resigned sigh, Nursey drops down heavily onto a bench and pulls out his phone. 3:30, the screen seems to scream at him, and he runs a hand through his hair. He’s on the opposite side of campus, he realizes, a long way from the Haus and a longer way from Dex. He’s cold - it’s the middle of the night, but he’s wearing a long-sleeved tee and sweatpants and sitting on a metal bench. He can’t even remember what the fight was about anymore, he’s so tired, and the mere idea of hauling his ass back who knows how many miles makes his bones ache. He misses Dex. 

He contemplates calling him, but thinks better of it. Maybe Dex went back to sleep. He’d only be more irritable if Nursey woke him up, and besides, he definitely hasn’t cooled off as quickly as Nursey has. Nursey doesn’t know what he’d say, either. “Sorry,” maybe. “Are you still mad?” probably, even though he thinks he already knows the answer. 

Their first big argument as a couple, they had both agreed to part ways for the night. Nursey had attempted to sleep on the green couch, but couldn’t stop tossing and turning until Dex crept downstairs an hour later to join him. No apology, no notes under doors, and yet when they woke up plastered together the next morning, Nursey knew it was over. 

He clears his head and replays the argument again, pays attention to Dex’s words instead of the murderous glare he gave Nursey that planted a rock in the pit of his stomach. I don’t want to see you right now, Nurse. Just get out.

Nursey knows that “right now” does not mean “ever again.” If Dex meant “ever again,” he’d have said it; he’s not one to beat around the bush. But “get out” is something else. Nursey’s been analyzing tone and diction since he was in middle school, and he likes to think that since he decided to major in creative writing, he’s gotten pretty good at it. “Get out,” like everything else Dex says and does, is efficient and to the point. Go somewhere else. Leave. I don’t want you here.

“Get out” doesn’t come with an expiration date. There’s no implied later, like there is in “right now.” There’s no see you in the morning or but come back when you’re ready. When Nursey thinks about “I don’t want to see you right now” and “get out” in the same breath, he sees tomorrow night spent on his freshman year roommate’s couch. He sees the rest of the week there, too, a slowly growing pile of his things taking up space in the corner. A month goes by, and Dex decides he likes things better this way; he finally has the room to himself, and Nursey doesn’t get underfoot anymore. Two months, and Dex doesn’t need him at all.

Nursey fumbles for his phone so fast that he almost drops it onto the pavement. His hands are shaking as he searches for Dex’s contact and presses the little phone icon, holding his breath as the line rings in his ear. 

Dex doesn’t pick up.

Nursey lays the phone down delicately in his lap and stares at the empty black screen. He gets the message. “Get out” doesn’t mean “leave.” It means “leave me.”

And Nursey hadn’t even been paying enough attention to realize it until now.

He numbly picks up the phone again. If he and Dex are through, he should at least leave a voicemail to tell Dex that he can come by and pick up his stuff in the morning. He’ll stay with Noah, really, it’s not an issue. As he scrolls through his contacts again, he dimly remembers a Facebook post that showed Noah moving to an off-campus apartment with some other junior. Kyle? No, Tyler. He’ll ask if he can stay with them; they’d probably be grateful for the extra help with the rent, anyway. 

This time, Dex picks up, and he sounds wide awake. “Derek? Listen, I-”

“It’s okay, Will, I get it,” Nursey says and feels his chest contract, like his lungs can’t fill themselves up anymore. “'It’s not you, it’s me,’ right? Whatever, it’s chill, I can come by and get my stuff tomorrow morning, there’s these guys I know who have a place and I can probably room with them, I just wanted to tell you so you didn’t think I-”

“Wait, what are you talking about, 'it’s not you, it’s me?’ Why… Is this, are you moving out of the Haus?” Dex asks quietly.

“That’s what you said you wanted, isn’t it?” Nursey’s voice cracks at the end, and he hates himself for it.

“I-When did I say that? Oh my God, I didn’t actually say that, did I?” Instead of pleased, like Nursey was expecting, Dex sounds horrified.

“You didn’t have to, Will. I told you, it’s chill, I get it. I can call a few guys from the soccer team to help me with all the boxes, it won’t-”

“Derek, stop.” Nursey clamps his mouth shut so hard his teeth click together. “I don’t want you to move out.”

Nursey blinks. “You don’t?”

“No, I don’t. Of course I don’t.”

For some reason, maybe it’s the way the breeze whips around him just then or the way Dex says of course like Nursey’s made of glass, he breaks. He’s crying before he can stop himself, and then, like they do when he’s writing sometimes, the words just… fall out.

“Thank God, Will, because it was a stupid fight and I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be mad at you for anymore because I’m not mad at you, I promise, but I didn’t know if you were still mad at me and if you were then you definitely wouldn’t have wanted to talk and so I almost didn’t call but I was terrified, Will, and I miss you, and even if you want me to sleep on the couch or you still need space or you want to take a break, I don’t care, I’ll do anything, whatever you want, I just want to come home.”

“Derek - Wait, you left? Where are you?” Dex asks, concerned.

Nursey sniffs. “On a bench, by Faber.”

“Stay there, okay? I’m coming to get you,” Dex says, and Nursey hears shuffling in the background.

“Okay,” he breathes when the rustling dies down. A door slams, and then Dex sighs.

“Look, Nursey, about what I said before… I don’t want you to leave, and I don’t want to break up or take a break or any of that bullshit. I just… Fuck, I just needed some time to think and you know how shit I am at asking for that when I’m mad. I’m sorry. I’ll be there soon, okay? Don’t hang up,” he adds quickly. “You don’t have to say anything, just don’t hang up.”

“Okay,” Nursey says again, smaller this time. He takes a deep breath in and lets it out. “I don’t want any of that, either, and I’m sorry, too.”

“Good,” Dex says, and Nursey can hear his smile. “It’s gonna take more than some dumb fight to get rid of me, Nurse.”

Nursey grins, despite himself. “Will Poindexter, resident poet and sap.”

“You love it.”

“I do, but I love you more, so-”

“Wait, and I'm the sap?”

Nursey laughs, which makes Dex laugh, and soon they’re back to what they do best, Nursey and Dex, Derek and Will. They talk, bicker, make plans for tomorrow, and Nursey is just planning to tell Dex how much he loves him (again), but the line goes dead before he can say anything.

“No jacket? Jesus, Nurse, it’s gotta be thirty degrees out.”

Nursey’s head pops up so fast Dex is afraid he might have whiplash, but a second later Dex’s arms are full of him and his head is tucked into Dex’s neck, so he lets it go. “What if you catch a cold, you idiot?” He murmurs affectionately into Nursey’s hair. “What am I gonna do with you then?”

Nursey sighs and pulls Dex impossibly closer, but it’s punctuated by a shiver. “Don’t care, s'long as it means you’ll stay.”

“Of course,” Dex says, and it’s different this time. This time, it doesn’t feel like Nursey’s about to shatter; it feels like coming home.

After the Beep.

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Lin-Manuel x Reader

Summary: All of the in-between moments of a relationship, captured in the one-sided monologue that is voicemail. 

A/N: 

This has been sitting in my drafts for over a week whoops.

This isn’t the Untitled Garbage Fic that I’ve been rambling about but hopefully it will hold you over until that one is post-able.

Basically, I wanted to start getting words flowing again for the first time since we finished WYCH and that manifested in me choosing the absolute worst format for telling a narrative story. Honestly, this may or may not be the dumbest thing I’ve ever posted like @ becca why would you think this is a good structure for a fic? 

I hope you get a kick out of me fumbling my way out of writer’s block lmao.

Also ps shout out to @fragmentofmymind​ for being great at all times and for reading through this monstrosity for me (and providing that gif), she’s super awesome and super talented and if you aren’t following her already then honestly where have you been??

Word Count: does it even matter? the format on this is weird I’m so sorry.


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anonymous asked:

Prompt: Clarke searching on craigslist for a husband and finds Bellamy


Special thanks to @ponyregrets and @reblogginhood for coming through with some details.  Also on ao3.


MARRY MY BEST FRIEND HE’S GREAT!!!  Clarke set down her beer and snorted.  A friday night spent with a six pack and Best of Craigslist wasn’t exactly living her best life, but it was all she felt like doing after the week she’d had at the hospital.  She clicked the link and moved her laptop to balance more comfortably on her knees.

MY BEST FRIEND IS AWESOME AND DESERVES TO BE MARRIED!!  

He’s crazy smart and kind of a grump but that’s only because he loves his friends and we’re a bunch of idiots.  He’s pan and really hot, but he’d kill me if I posted a picture of his face so here’s a picture of his chest instead:

Clarke tipped her head to the side and considered the proffered torso while she took a long swig of beer.  He was wearing a grey Arkadia University t-shirt that looked soft and worn, and he did have nice, broad shoulders that stretched the shirt pleasantly.  It looked like he had one arm around someone— a male someone— and the other one held a bottle of the same beer she was drinking.  

She scrolled on.

I’m getting married to my fiance soon and I figured we should just make it a double wedding because he deserves to be as happy as we are and he hasn’t had a boyfriend or girlfriend in too long.  All you gotta do is show up and marry my best friend!!!

You:

Guy, gal, or nonbinary pal

Patience with long, rambling historical anecdotes

Sense of humor because you’re really underestimating how many long, rambling historical anecdotes you’re gonna hear

I cannot emphasize enough how many long, rambling historical anecdotes he has

He hates going out so either you should be a shut-in too or maybe you should be the sort of person who can get him out of the house (I think the first one but my fiance says the second one is best idk use your best judgment there)

Burning hatred of the patriarchy

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akikofumi  asked:

OKAY BUT! QUESTION! Bc I almost got into a fight with a friend over it: We saw how Tony struggled to work his very first suit and yes, he made better suits after that first one but it still took him time to operate them perfectly. We saw in IM1 how hard it was for him to learn to control the suit and fly and all. So my question is: how'd you explain that Rhodey can use the suit pERFECTLY after getting it? He uses it for the first time and does so perfectly. I'd love to hear your theory abt this!

aaahh oh my god listen rhodey is a professional test pilot, and fun IM1 novelization fact:

“Upon realizing the power and potential of what he was developing [the Iron Man armor], [Tony] reasoned that the best person to test it would be James Rhodes. After all, why in God’s name should Tony – and amateur at best when it came to actual field testing – be thrusting himself headlong in such conditions as these when Rhodey was an experienced hand? He’d figured he would bring Rhodey into the loop, show him everything that he had in mind, and James Rhodes, top test pilot, would get the honor and glory to be the first to operate Tony Stark’s newest and greatest brainchild.”

this is from that part when tony tries to talk to rhodey at the hangar, but he never gets to tell rhodey what he actually intended to do because in tony’s current catastrophizing, worst-case-scenario mind, rhodey unknowingly shot it all down by saying tony “needed time to get his mind right”

(which is kind of sad and i do want to emphasize tony’s state of mind in that bit. he walked into the hangar and as soon as he saw rhodey with the other pilots, he remembered the ambush and he’s thinking: “What the hell is wrong with me? It’s bad enough that the previous chest reactor is tied up with memories of Yinsen. Is everything going to start reminding me of that hellhole?” – and when rhodey is like, “dude ok you gotta calm down and get your mind straight,” tony’s mind instantly goes to: “What did you expect? He comes across like he’s your friend. Maybe he even thinks he is. But what he sees you as, what he really sees you as, is a resource. A military resource. A means of providing new and exciting ways to kill people by hundreds. How do you explain it to him? How do you explain that what you’ve created until now has been the technological equivalent of broadswords, hacking through and annihilating guilty and innocent alike?” – and like, honestly, just the fact that tony instantly goes from “he thinks my mind is kinda off right now” to “he’s just using me as a genocidal military resource and he doesn’t understand the bloodshed i’ve caused”…. kind of tells you rhodey is right about tony not… really… being…. in a good mental place)

(basically i feel like too many people hate on rhodey during that bit because he doesn’t understand tony or believes him or whatever the rhetoric is, when really what’s happening [in the novelization], is that uhm yes tony’s in a dark mental place where any shade of anything can be construed as direct criticism or talking down on him or accusing him, etc. his mental patterns are literally all off there, it’s really sad and it’s not rhodey’s fault and people need to stop thinking rhodey’s a bad friend because he reacted to tony’s sudden bouts of post-trauma shifts and eccentricities like “ok bro i think you need to. chill. for a little bit, maybe”)  

anyway yeah rhodey was the first intended pilot for the armor. and i think he’s so good at it because that’s what he is, he is a test pilot

there’s another distinction that i read somewhere (or maybe i made it? i honestly don’t know? i just know it’s really solidified in my mind) that rhodey is objectively the better iron man pilot, and tony is the more reckless iron man fighter. and in the comics, while rhodey was iron man, tony does say something about how iron man found his true/full potential in rhodey, or something along those lines

tl;dr rhodey kicks ass and tony is literally the first one to acknowledge that  

Lin-Manuel Miranda caps a huge ‘Hamilton’ year with 'Moana’ (L.A. Times):

[…] When did “Moana” come to you?

I can trace the journey of “Moana” in the journey of my son’s life. I found out I got the job on “Moana” the same day I found out I was going to be a father. My wife was going on a business trip and she was leaving first thing in the morning. She turned to me and said, “You’re gonna be a father. I gotta go catch a plane.”

And I went, “What? That’s great.” And fell back asleep. I had to call her back for confirmation. Then I got the call later that afternoon that I got the job. They called me again and said, “We’re all going to New Zealand this weekend; you’re leaving first thing in the morning.” It was pre-“Hamilton.” So I’ve been working on this for two years and seven months. My son [just] turned 2.

It was really kind of an incredible journey. And the “Hamilton” phenomenon happened while I was writing it.

How did you split the time?

I had to really protect my writing time. In one sense it was really great, because, you know, when something is as successful as “Hamilton” everyone wants a piece of you. Everyone wants 10 minutes to talk about their pitch, or press, or what have you. The things that come with the success of a thing.

I got the luxury of having to say no to a ton because I was like, “Tuesdays and Thursdays are full-time ‘Moana’ writing days.” I would meet via Skype with the creative writing team at 5 p.m. every Tuesday and Thursday, then I would go to the chiropractor, then I would get into costume for a 7 p.m. show. It was built into my performance schedule.

I also had the luxury of amazing singers in the building — so a lot of my early demos for “Moana” is [the “Hamilton” cast]. Pippa [Phillipa] Soo, who played my wife, singing Moana’s tunes, and Chris Jackson, who played George Washington, singing Maui’s tunes. He’s actually in the movie: He’s the singing voice of Moana’s dad.

[…]

What was the key that unlocked the character of Moana for you?

The thing that resonated for me with Moana is she is not someone who hates where she is. Moana loves her family, she loves her island. She knows she’s got responsibilities and she’s ready to embrace them. And yet there is this voice inside her that says you’re not supposed to be here, you’re supposed to be somewhere else.

I can relate to that. I was a kid who was always making stuff. I didn’t know whether I wanted to make action movies or animated cartoons or musicals, but I was always just making stuff. My parents were like, “This is not practical. You’ll be a great lawyer.” And it was never gonna happen. I loved my parents and I loved where I lived, but I also had this voice that was, what’s the distance between me and what I want. That’s what I tried to imbue her with without villainizing the things around her. It’s not “there must be more than this provincial life,” it’s “I love it here and yet; and yet every time I absentmindedly walk I find myself at the water again.”

Given the love for “Hamilton” in the world, given that its journey is not over by a long shot, there is going to be some high school in Kansas that wants to mount a production of “Hamilton” and all of the roles are gonna be played by white kids. Is that missing the point? Or is that the point?

When it comes to kids, I relax all of my rules. When I think from my perspective I got to be a son in “Fiddler,” I got to be Conrad Birdie, I got to play roles that I’ll never get to play as an adult. Once you’re an adult, the world puts you in a box and you’re cast by type and ethnicity. I directed “West Side Story” my senior year in high school. I was one of the only Latino kinds in my school, so my Sharks were white and Asian. At the same time, I was able to flip that into a teaching moment. I brought my dad in to do dialect coaching so it wasn’t [bad] Hollywood accents, it was authentic Puerto Rico accents that these kids were attempting.

I hope there’s enough in “Hamilton” that if you go to a school where there are literally no kids of color — and that is increasingly rare in our country, which is a good thing — your job is to honor the story. For me “In the Heights” has been this. I get joy from both sides of it. I get joy that kids who go to schools that are largely white suddenly are waving Dominican flags around and having to learn Spanish to understand what they’re singing. So they’re getting a dose of cultural education by virtue of doing this show they like. Whether or not they have quote unquote permission to do it. They’re getting it. The medicine is going in. You now have empathy for a group of people that have never been in your school.

I’m grateful for that. Then when a school in the South Bronx does it and it’s all black and Latino kids and the sense of ownership and pride they feel — like this is ours, this is about our families — there’s no quantifying the joy I get from seeing a production like that.

I think keeping kids from art is not something that’s interesting to me. Now, regional productions are a whole different thing. When you’re in a professional production it’s like, cast [it] right. Save yourself the headache of everything that comes with a very important conversation about cultural appropriation.

Is there somebody who has the ‘How to be a Celebrity’ playbook that you’re cribbing from? You’ve navigated the pre-“Hamilton” to post-“Hamilton” transition better than most.

You learn very quickly that the trappings of it is how much you bring to it. If you surround yourself with three security guards and an entourage, people are gonna look at you. As opposed to my friend Josh Groban, who takes the train to work. And he’s Josh Groban. He’s got millions of fans. He wears it lightly. He’s still just a guy. I’m inspired by that. I refuse to sit on a pedestal that people want to put you on. I’ll write a dumb tweet in the morning and someone will be like, “Pulitzer Prize winner. Can’t get his coffee right.”

You can’t stop being the person you were just because more people are looking at you. […]

read the rest of the great interview!

Stay the Night

Request!

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Word Count: 1286

Prompts: 16. “N-no! Don’t let me go!”

17. “Stay please stay with me…”

Warnings: angst, near death experiences, the Joker

A/N the angst/suspense is strong in this one. I hope you like it @avengerdragoness ! Also, I might just do a part 2 because i felt like i left some loose ends here, so…be on le lookout for a part 2. Also, sorry for posting this so late. Life gets in the way fr. My requests are still open so please check out the rules for it and ask away! 


5 days. That’s how long ago Jason came back to see you and tell you he was in fact, alive. In disbelief and confusion, you yelled at him to leave you alone and began smacking him with a spatula angrily for not telling you right away and showing up out of nowhere. He left, naturally, because he didn’t want to make you angrier with his presence. Since then, you hadn’t showed up to work and shut yourself in your apartment.

Many thoughts swirled inside your head about Jason. Why show up now? After 5 damn years of actually being alive? How did this even happen? What made him think he had the right to show up on your terrace and tell you he loved you and thought about you the whole 5 years he was supposedly “dead”. You weren’t going to cave in that easily; especially since you had worked so hard to create a new life for yourself after his death. His sudden reappearance was going to disrupt the flow of your life, and you didn’t need that.

Your heart had broken the night you found out he died. Shattered into millions of pieces. It took a toll on you, and you isolated yourself to clear your head. Eventually when you came back, you spent time with Mr. Wayne to get out the feelings you had bottled up.

Now here you were, moping around your apartment in your pajamas and crying as if Jason had died a second time.

As you sat in your living room, you realized how what you were doing wasn’t going to help you get over Jason.

“I gotta stop doing this. I gotta get out of here.” You stood up from your couch and went to your bathroom. You took a shower and then put on some nice clothes. Then you dolled yourself up and headed out.

No more moping. Not for you.


As you walked down the streets of Gotham, you felt much better. Jason had completely slipped from your mind as you made your way to a local club.

However, before even reaching the 50-foot radius of the club, you were plucked from the sidewalk into an alley. You didn’t have time to fight back as a cloth was placed over your mouth and you were knocked out.

When you woke up, you found yourself most definitely not on the ground anymore. You were high up on a skyscraper somewhere in Gotham, and considering that you just moved to the city and were still learning your way around, you were terrified. Not only that, but you were bound to a chair and precariously hanging off the edge. Just one touch would send you hurtling towards the ground.

Then you heard the laughter. The maniacal cackling. You knew who it was, but you refused to admit it.

“HAHAHAHAHAHA you know I can see why you’re so precious to him. You’re really somethin’ aren’t ya? HAHAHAHAHA!” none other than the Joker himself stepped out of the shadows.

You pulled your lips into a thin line and glowered at him. He was the reason Jason died in the first place. To say you hated the Joker was an understatement. You detested, despised him. You were glad that Harley left him. He didn’t deserve her.

“If you’re trying to lure Jason in with me, it’s not gonna work.” You half lied. Maybe it would, but you told him to leave you alone, but knowing Jason, he probably ignored you and decided to keep a close watch on you.

“I don’t know, doesn’t look like it,” he chortled.

Sure enough, Jason’s voice rang out in the darkness.

“Get away from her,” he growled. You spotted a man with a red helmet behind the Joker and his goons, guns in hand. Was it Jason? You had heard his voice but didn’t see him anywhere.

Before Joker could even make a move, the red-masked man raised one of his guns and shot it at one of Joker’s goons. You let out a yelp in sudden fear. Joker and his crew began taking on the man while you awkwardly sat on the ledge, watching. However, you began attempting to untie and free yourself from the uncomfortable chair, now that the Joker was preoccupied.

“This is fun!” The joker mused as he dodged another one of Red’s bullets.

“It really isn’t,” you muttered. You were so close. And then you felt the ropes drop. You were freed. Well, your hands were. You hastily untied the ropes from your legs and stood up.

“So much better,” you breathed.

“Mo! Get rid of her! She did her job, we don’t need her anymore,” Joker yelled. Unfortunately, he noticed your self-liberation and decided to take advantage of it.

“Don’t touch her!” Red hollered, however it was too late. You suddenly felt yourself being picked up off the roof and then, you were airborne.

Everything felt ten times slower. Or perhaps even frozen. But in reality, you were falling, and falling fast. Fortunately, on your way down, you grabbed onto a flagpole, but your grip was slowly getting worse, and within 2 minutes, you were holding on with one hand.

Jason, or shall we say, Red Hood, stopped what he was doing to save you. He found you hanging onto the flagpole one-handed and jumped down to help you back up.

“HEY!” he yelled to get your attention. You looked up to see who it was. Red. He reached out for your hand.

“Gimme your hand, I’ll help you–AH!” he began saying, but let out a cry of pain as he was shot in the shoulder by, you guessed it, Joker, high above on the roof.

“I can’t…reach!” you strained as you tried reaching for his hand.

“Come on!” he ushered you.

“I can’t!” you repeated. Your arm was giving out and you were ready to let go. Taking initiative, and trying to block out the pain, Jason hastily grabbed your wrist and started pulling you up to a the small platform he was on.

“I got you–AH!” he cried again. Another bullet wound, now in the other shoulder.

“Shit,” he whispered. Now that his other shoulder was bleeding out, holding your wrist was hurting more.

“I can’t hold on much longer!” he shouted.

N-no! Don’t let me go!” you screamed. Desperate not to let you down, he pulled you up with the remaining strength he had left onto the platform and into his arms.

By now you were crying into his leather jacket, clutching it tightly. He took off his helmet then and there, not caring if you found out his secret identity. He cradled you in his arms, trying to calm you down. Eventually, once you were calm enough, and once the Joker was out of sight, he took you home, landing on your terrace, where you had the heart-wrenching conversation with him 5 days earlier. He was about to set you down when you spoke.

Stay…please…stay with me…” you croaked. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but he didn’t want to leave you alone as well.

“Jason.” you simply said. His eyes widened in shock. You knew it was him.

Jason opened the french doors to your terrace to go inside your apartment. He couldn’t help but think how nice it was and how it would feel to live in it with you.

“Stay…stay the night, please,” you begged as he set you down on your sofa.

“I can’t,” he replied.

“Yes you can,” you countered. You were right, he didn’t really have anywhere to go the next day.

So he did. He stayed with you. And he never wanted to leave.

anonymous asked:

Okay so I'm in the bath and would love some of your incredible words to fill this writing prompt: Eggsy as the cute as pie Lush worker and Harry as the put-upon gentleman looking for a gift for someone (I guess someone he doesn't know very well) or following a mark into Lush (I don't know, he's just there!) and eggsy is forced to greet him as per lush law. Cue dates and baths together forever, all the fluffy feels xoxoxoxo

To be entirely honest Nonny, my first reaction to this was “hell nah” not because the prompt isn’t amazing (as is the next one you sent) but, unpopular opinion time, I personally cannot stand Lush. I mean I like the concept just fine, workers are usually friendly, but to me it all smells the same and when I go into a shop with my earbuds on, it usually means that nope, I do not want a demo done on me. Let’s just say my antisocial ass when shopping has had one too many bad experience with salesclerk who couldn’t understand my simple “I am looking for now, I’ll ask as soon as I need help”. Like I get you want to show me your cool products, but can I get an idea of which one I want to know more about before you bombard me with them? … Anyway rant over, sorry about that Nonny.

But soon after I saw the #agegapapril post from @deepdarkwaters and well, this seemed like the perfect opportunity to write a little something and make a Nonny happy :D

Also, I’ll probably use the bingo cards as inspiration for little snippets in this Lush verse, so stay tune Nonny, you’re getting a several stories this month :D They won’t be long though because I gotta focus on the bang, but I do hope you like them!

Day One - Velvet

The posh gentleman that just stepped into the shop looks as if he’s inadvertently walked into a warzone and Eggsy cannot really blame him.

Even after a few months of working at Lush, he sometimes internally cringes at his own coworkers. Not that he’s really any better, after all, an enthusiastic greeting is one of Lush Law, but there is something to say about being able to read your customers’ body language.

For example, now that the posh gentleman has declined his offer to help with a look that is very reminiscent of a deer caught in headlights, he needs to back off or the man will bolt out of the shop at the first occasion. The poor bloke is clearly overwhelmed and doesn’t seem the sort to like being reminded that he is out of his depth.

So instead of badgering him, Eggsy leaves him to peruse the shelves at his own pace and goes to help a group of giggly teenagers. He keeps an eye on the gentleman through all the awkward flirting though and as soon as the girls are out of the shop with more bathbombs than they really need, he goes to arrange something or another on a shelf close to him him.

His wait is rewarded when the man finally turns from the products he had been staring at for the last five minutes and politely clears his throat to get his attention.

“I am sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you had a few minutes to help me out.” He’s smiling all sheepishly now, as if ashamed to have refused his help at first and Eggsy finds himself answering his smile with something more genuine than the ones he gave the girls a few minutes ago.

It’s either that or he’s afraid he’ll make an embarrassing noise over how cute the man looks now that his dimples are showing. And really the man must have a good twenty years on him. Eggsy doesn’t mind one bit, but the gentleman might take offense to being cooed over.

“Sure, I’d be happy to. Have you find anything you’re interested in?” He might have been standing in front of the massage bars, but Eggsy doesn’t want to assume anything.

Maybe he should have though, because the gentleman waves vaguely at the massage bars as he replies and he tries very hard not to imagine how those hands would feel on his skin.

“They all seem great, but my partner’s skin is quite sensitive and I trying to determine if ‘velvety oil’ or ‘luscious melted butter’ will cause a reaction or not.”

Eggsy ignores the pang of disappointment at hearing about the man having a partner, but really handsome as he is, it’s not really surprising. Anyway, it’s not like he was thinking of giving him his number or something. The last thing he wants is to be written up for inappropriate behaviour, which shockingly enough, can happen fairly easily.

“Well, none of those should cause a reaction, except if they’re allergic to any of the ingredients. I got a friend who breaks into rashes at the littlest thing, but she swears by those.”

“He’s not allergic to anything, no… Which one would you recommend?”

Usually, that would be the time he would ask about what kind of scent he and his partner might like, but for once he’s got a pretty good idea of what they might enjoy. Maybe it’s stereotyping since he imagines his partner to be equally as posh as him, but he doubts they’d be a fan of the strawberry one anyway.

“Shades of Earl Grey,” he says as he takes one to offer the man. “I’d also recommend buying a tin for it, so you can keep it somewhere handy without fearing it will melt on anything. Oh and I know there’s no risk of a heatwave in the middle of winter, but the stuff does melt at body temperature, so I’d keep it in the fridge during the summer when you don’t plan on using it.”

The man has sniffed the bar tentatively during his little speech and Eggsy gets a little thrill when he nods in clear approval of his suggestion.

“I’ll take this one then. And a tin.”

He’d offer to give a little demonstration of the product on his hand at least, but the suit he wears seems to have cost more than what he’s earned since he’s got the job and he’d hate to stain it by accident. He also might have the slightest fear he’ll make some inappropriate sounds if he was to actually touch the man and he’d really like to keep his job, thank you very much.

That and the man is already moving toward the cash, obviously not wanting to spend a minute more here now that he’s got what he wanted.

He makes short work of ringing his order up and giving him his bag, but the ‘have a nice evening’ dies before it can even form on his lips when the man takes his hand between his for a gentle shake.

“Thank you for all your help…” It takes him a moment to realise that the man is waiting for his name, but anyone would be thrown off at having their hand suddenly held by someone they’re trying very hard not to fantasize about.

“Eggsy.” It’s a bit choked off, but the man doesn’t mention it, nor does he say anything about how unusual a name it is.

“Thank you again Eggsy. I’m Harry,” he gives a little press on his hand before letting go and Eggsy has to bite back a disappointed groan. “If we like this,” he gives a little shake of his bag, “I’ll probably be back to look at more.”

“I’m usually there all week except on tuesdays.” As soon as the words leaves his mouth, he has to fight the impulse to bash his head against the counter, because really Harry already told him he’s got a partner, there is no point in flirting.

But Harry seems genuinely pleased by that tidbit of information and seriously dimples should be made illegal.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Good evening.”

“Good evening.”

He’s pretty sure he’s imagining the reluctance in how Harry turns away to leave, or projecting his own wish for him to stay longer on him, but there’s no imagining how Harry looks through the window once he’s outside and meets his gaze one last time before starting to walk away.

anonymous asked:

ohhhh i'd love to hear more about your ruins caretaker papyrus AU!

Oh, you’re so sweet??? Thank you so much for being interested, and sorry for not answering earlier, I was busy with college ;-;

Also, hm, I know we haven’t actually had a conversation, like, ever, but I know you’re the Queen of Papyrus fics and ideas, so I thought maybe you’d be interested in this @zefive??? (sorry if you aren’t feel free to ignore me)

I haven’t actually thought about that AU in a loooong time. I haven’t even played Undertale in a long time, so I may not remember some things very well. Basically, it all starts as a Genocide Route, where Frisk is in the Ruins and meets Toriel. Frisk kills everyone, then kills Toriel, and then they get out of the Ruins.

Keep reading

Underestimation & Overcompensation Part 2

read part one here. just a fluffy follow up, hope you enjoy!

Originally posted by perfectly-penelope


Imagine the next morning you wake up to the sun shining through the window and you’re both totally late for work. Spencer just keeps cursing under his breath and you are literally so sore even thinking about moving fucking hurts. So you just lay helplessly in the sheets while he runs around trying to clean himself up and listen to his twenty thousand voicemails from the team.

And after a minute he turns to you and asks why you aren’t getting up, and you shoot him this look that says are you fucking kidding me? so he backs off and as he buttons up his shirt he’s got this little smile on his face because he just knOWs that he fucked you too hard and he knows how much you fucking loved it.

Keep reading

imaginendrv3 mod application ~

name; Myst

tumblr user; mysticallymyst.tumblr.com

age; 17

preferred mod names; mod iruma/miu, mod amami/rantarou, or mod kiibo (any of them are fine w me)

prompt; all ndrv3 kissing headcanons

__

kaede akamatsu

-Is surprised for a second or two if you ask, but then she smiles and blushes a little.

-She’s decently affectionate, and gives you a cute little peck on the lips often.

-Likes to kiss you as a reward whenever you do something nice.

-Gets flustered if you kiss her in public though.

-Kisses you most when you’re in a bad mood to get you happier again.


miu iruma

-”Kyahahaha! I’m not surprised, of course you’d want to kiss this beauty of a woman, wouldn’t you!”

-Though she acts all high and mighty if you ask to kiss her, when she realizes you’re being serious, she suddenly gets all shy and flustered and you have to be the one to kiss her first.

-Once you do kiss her, she’s even more flustered and all red-faced in embarrassment, whether in public or not.

-Then she tries to kiss you back and barely touches your lips because she did it so fast.

-You can tell she’s happy afterwards though.

-Probably gets close to fainting if you kiss her affectionately with a lot of other people around.


tsumugi shirogane

-Maybe a little embarrassed.

-She loves loves loves to give you eskimo kisses the most !! 

-Is very affectionate with her kisses.

-In private, she’ll probably give you soft and cute kisses, but in public, she never will. 

-Will not stop smiling afterwards.


tenko chabashira

-This depends on gender.

-If you’re a boy, she acts very tsundere and will flip you on accident if you try to kiss her without warning.

-If you ask, she’ll suddenly blush lots but give you a millisecond long kiss. Then you gotta pout in able for her to give you another kiss that’s actually considered one.

-does a “Hmph!” noise after and looks away, but she’s still blushing and you could tell she’s happy.

-If you’re a girl, she’s a red-faced stuttering mess.

-You have to initiate the kiss, and you catch her off guard no matter what.

-After recovering from a mini panic attack, she then smiles and is in a good mood for the rest of the day.


kirumi tojou

-Chuckles a little if you ask.

-Probably one to kiss you on the cheek often.

-However, she’s very refined, and will never ever kiss you in public because she hates PDA. 

-No matter how much you try, you can never make her blush while giving her a kiss.

-If you have to go somewhere, she gives you a small kiss before you leave.


maki harukawa

-”No.”

-The biggest tsundere you will ever meet.

-Calls you an idiot if you try to kiss her without warning.

-It’s very difficult to get her to kiss you, but when you do, you can see very vague blush on her cheeks.

-Kisses you on the corner of your lips if she feels like being a tiny bit affectionate. 

-If you’re very observant, you can see her pretending not to be happy even though she actually is.


himiko yumeno

-This is one of the rare times you will see her not being all calm and chill.

-Embarrassed. Very embarrassed.

-”I’ll use my magic to make this a very enjoyable kiss !”

-Hides her face from you once she’s done. 


angie yonaga

-She’s a ball of affection and innocence about this.

-Kisses you all over your face when you ask.

-She is also into eskimo kisses.

-Squeezes your hand in happiness when you kiss her.


shuichi saihara

-Cute. and flustered. and stuttering. and just. genuinely a mess when you ask to kiss him.

-Due to his low self-esteem, he questions why you even want to kiss him. 

-Once he’s calm he’ll give you an affection-filled kiss.

-His lips are very soft on yours.


rantarou amami

-Will absolutely not kiss you without giving you a whole round of teasing first.

-He purposely avoids your lips each time and laughs when you start to get annoyed.

-Eventually gives you a nice long kiss to make up for it, and always leaves you happy.

-Is the type to enjoy it when you get flustered, he finds it cute.


kokichi ouma

-Also likes to tease you, a lot.

-He acts very childish about kisses and goes “ewww” at first, but you know he’s joking and he always ends up giving you a peck on the lips anyway.

-Mostly kisses you in public to make it known that you’re his because he’s so proud to have someone like you.

-The others are like “Yeah we get it Ouma, you have a boy/girlfriend, stop kissing him/her so often”

-Shares his Panta with you and considers it indirect kissing.


kiibo

-”What’s a kiss”

-You have to spend a good 10 to 15 minutes explaining the concept and purpose of a kiss to Kiibo.

-When he finally understands he’s blushing and stuttering.

-However he’s still flattered that you want to kiss him. 

-He gives you a short and sweet kiss and dashes away out of shyness. 


gonta gokuhara

-Is a gentleman about kissing even though he’s never done it before.

-You most likely are not his height so he bends a little to kiss you.

-Adorable happy blushu face.

-Pretty flustered afterwards due to inexperience with kisses.


korekiyo shinguji

-How did you get him to pull down his mask? Everyone is amazed at your ability to do so.

-Very very flattered.

-He’s happy he gets to experience a human kiss, he’s only seen them happen and never kissed anyone himself.

-Very respectful about it though.


Ryoma Hoshi

-God this man would ever expect he’d kiss a person. 

-”For what reason would you want to kiss a killer?”

-Acts calm and cool about it but is actually quite surprised deep down.

-Gives you a solid, nice kiss.


Kaito Momota

-He surprisingly gets really excited about being asked to kiss. 

-He’s visibly excited and happy, please protect him.

-Gives you a highly long lasting kiss.

-Is not going to stop widely grinning for the next few hours, I’ll guarantee you that.


___


i died halfway through this

i’ve never done so many headcanons at once before what a ride :’)) it was fun to write though !! 

i would submit it to your blog but i did this all on mobile and i can’t figure out how to do submissions on mobile so i just posted it on my blog; i’ll just tag you in the post and give the link in a message as well c:

hnnggg i hope i get accepted as a mod what if i took too long to post this or didn’t write enough or forgot someone o boy-

@imaginendrv3

Unfaithful : Part Twenty-Five

Summary :
In the Pre-apocalypse , you went to your aunt Lucille’s house in Virginia to spend the summer there, but you fell in love with her husband Negan .

**drama - romance - angst- smut - betrayal**

Pairing : Negan x Female Reader OC.

Dedicated to @negansmainwife

Warnings : so I won’t give spoilers, every chapter could contain mention of blood, death, gore, smut etc… not to mention Negan’s filthy mouth

Note:

This fic is about betrayal or adultery, call it what you want, please if you feel triggered about such thing don’t read. If not , you can be wether team y/n or team Lucille. LOL

Previous chapters :

https://negansslowlyburn.tumblr.com/post/159839481553/unfaithful

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

“The FUCK you want now???”

Negan brushed past Lucille and stomped off to the hall , he halted and turned to face Lucille who gently closed the door to your room.
He angrily stroke his hair as he shot her a dirty look, impatiently waiting for her to speak.

Keep reading

Harlots 1.04 reactions

So, I LOVED THIS EPISODE. Tensions are rising all around, yes, in subtle and overt ways alike, and there are definitely many things being set up to go HORRIBLY WRONG, yes, but I loved it. And look how precious Lucy looks with her hair all up in curls!

What’s the etiquette about how long I have to wait before screaming about this ep publicly, btw? Or posting caps or gifs of it? ‘Cause, like, I don’t wanna spoil anything for anyone, but uh. I’ve got a lot of feelings. I will always tag #harlots spoilers on things from the most recent ep, but it’s difficult to know when things are considered fair game when it’s airing on different schedules and platforms internationally.

For now, spoilers below the cut. In which I offer unexpectedly Deep Thoughts™ about that final scene and ramble about my favorite bits — namely:

Keep reading

The Joker x Pregnant Reader

Well, it happened and that’s all there is to it. Cross your fingers and hope for the best. At least he didn’t try to kill you…yet.    T__T

Read part 2 here:http://diyunho.tumblr.com/post/153717572186/the-joker-x-pregnant-reader-2


“No better time to tell him then now,” you think to yourself, stretching your back and your arms like you’re about to run a marathon.  The Joker was able to retrieve the building plans for the Arkham Asylum and now he’s going over them in the living room, trying to see how he can use them next time you guys might end up in there. You take a deep breath and walk over to him, then you just kind of sit there, waiting to get his attention. He finally notices you and lifts his non-existing eyebrows, question-like expression on his face.

“I have something important to tell you, J.”

“You’re wearing the pink lingerie I got you yesterday?” he winks, glaring at you up and down.

“Well, in the matter of fact I am, but that’s…”
“Show me!” he impatiently demands, crossing his legs.

“Ummm, I would love to, but first I need to tell…”

“Just take the damn clothes off, Princess, I wanna see!” the Joker raises his voice, starting to tap his pen on the table, making obnoxious noises.

You roll your eyes and take your top off, revealing your pink bra and that earns you a very load roar and a whistle.

“Oohhh, daddy likes…Continue!”

You don’t have time for this, you’re on a mission.

“I’m pregnant,” you quickly say, placing your hands on your hips.

J drops his pen.

“No you’re not!” he squints his eyes, moving his jaw sideways.

“Well, the 7 different pregnancy tests that turned positive beg to differ.” You smack your lips, looking him in the eyes.

“No way!” he opens his mouth, amazed, still not getting the picture.

You point your finger towards your pelvis and accentuate each word:

“See this  “ Property of J” tattoo? Baby right under, yours and mine.”

He looks stunned.

“I thought we… can’t, we tried before…” Mister J gets up and walks towards you in slow motion, like he’s afraid you might blow up soon and take the penthouse down with you.

“Apparently you’re that good, Puddin,” you snicker excited, running in his arms.

He lifts you up the ground and hugs you so tight that you gasp when you kiss him.

Just when you’re about to get lost in the kiss, he breaks the magic, puts you down and purrs in your ear:

“Is it mine?”

You squirm and reach for his holster, taking out his gun really fast and point it to his temple, outraged at the question. Safety clicks.

“What did you just say?!”

He starts laughing maniacally, gripping your wrist and pushing it down.

“It’s not even loaded, so don’t bother.”

“You’re bluffing!” you sneer, fully knowing his gun is always loaded.

“God, I love it when your feisty, is it going to get worst with the pregnancy?” he says in a low voice, licking his lips. He violently pulls you in his arms again and you let go of the gun.

“So I’ve heard,” you sigh and let out a soft moan as he starts biting your neck.

“Oh, goody, I can’t wait!” He unhooks your bra, grazing your shoulder with his silver grill.

“What about you show me the bottom part of this pink stuff?”

*************************  

“So Frosty, what should I do?,” J asks his trusted henchman, gesturing with his hands like he’s waiting for a very philosophical reply.

“Ummm…I don’t know, sir…” Frost answers, lifting his broad shoulders.

“But she’s pregnant. Should I kill her?”

“You realize I can hear you, right?” You scoff on the couch while changing channels on TV.

“No you’re not hearing this, baby doll. This is guy talk.”

“Whatever,” you nod your head, annoyed he’s teasing you so much.

“I’m the Joker,” he continues his conversation with Frost. “What am I supposed to do as a dad, hmmm? I really can’t take care of anything…that’s alive.”

“You’re taking care of Y/N sir.”

“HA!!!!” you let it out, fakely amused. “That’s a good one!”

“Pumpkin, I told you you’re not hearing this!”

“Whatever!” you protest.

“Did you hear her, Frosty?… I hate being in love, it really sucks,” J complains, sighing.

Frost is determined not to let a single muscle move on his face when he hears such abomination coming out of his boss’s mouth. He seriously doubts the Joker understands the concept of being in love, but he can’t say shit.

“That’s it, I’m done!” you say, irritated, leaving the couch and going towards the master bedroom.

“I think I pissed her off,” Mister J whispers to Frost, proud of himself.

**********************

Problems arise:

** J flips when he hears you want to sleep in the baby’s room for a while when he or she is born. He thinks your place is always by him, no matter what. After getting tired of explaining without any results, you both settle for the baby to actually sleep in the master bedroom, this way he still has you in bed with him.

** ”I hope the baby has your blue eyes,” you smile, thinking how nice that would be.

“No, green like yours, this way I don’t miss you when you’re going somewhere without me.”

“Awwww, are you trying to be cute, J ?  BLUE!” you frown.

“NO, green.”

“Blue!”

After fighting for half an hour, you give up, exhausted.

“You better have blue eyes,” you whisper, caressing your abdomen.

“GREEN!”

How the hell did he hear that from the hallway?!

** ”If it’s a boy, we’ll name him J Jr. and if it’s a girl Emma,” Mister J decides.

“ I like J Jr. but if it’s a girl her name will be Ella.”

“Emma!”

“Don’t start, J. Ella!”

After an hour of bickering, both commonly agree you’re going to leave this to faith so you flip a coin.

J wins.

You don’t talk to him for a week.

** ”My son or daughter is not going to be allowed to have any tattoos , ever!” you stump out of the shower, leaving J in there alone.

“Come on, Princess, why not? We have a bunch!”

“NO! “ you grab a towel and wrap it around you.

He gets out of there, water dripping all over the floor, stroking his green hair, fully aware he can make you change your mind.

You face the mirror and he comes behind you, wrapping one arm around your waist and using the other hand to draw a smiley face on the steamy glass right where your mouth’s reflection is.

He starts rocking you slowly and takes your towel off, pressing himself against you.

“Kitten, what about 5 tattoos, hmm? It’s not a bad number,” his hands slide down your thighs, proud of his negotiation skills.

“Four!”

His hands stop.

“FIVE!”

“Four, baby, take or leave it. Or…do you want me to leave you hanging?! You’ve been wanting this all week,” you seductively moan, biting your lip.

“…Dammit, fine!”

You finally got something going for yourself.

**”I’m not putting away the guns, I like them all over the place,” he pouts, unhappy.

“You gotta. Not right now, but we can’t have Ella…”

“Emma!”

“Emma,” you mock, “running around the penthouse with loaded guns all over.”

She’s not even born yet and he feels his life is going downhill. So depressing. “Why did Y/N even get pregnant for?” The Joker thinks, irritated. “Probably did it on purpose to antagonize me”. He would never tell you, but he Googled “How to be a father” and read a bunch of scary stuff about the wonders of parenting. He would rather deal with Batsy for that matter.

*********************

**This is unbelievable, but your little girl has your eyes, not his blue eyes. J wins again and you have to deal with it.

“Daaaaddy…pic’ ‘e up!” she whines at his feet, reaching her tiny arms for him.

He grunts, pretending she’s so heavy when he lifts her. She chuckles, kissing his pale cheek and he just stares at her, not really knowing why he feels so delighted. He tilts his head close to her forehead so she can play with his bright green hair and she loves it.

“Little Princess, you can’t really call me daddy, we have to find something else. Only mommy can call me that when I…”

“ J !!!” you shout, “What the hell?!”

“I think we upset mommy,” he crinkles his nose and Emma smiles, not understanding of course. “Daddy wants to get some tonight and we can’t risk make mommy mad.”

“J, are you serious?!”

“What? I’m just having a conversation with my daughter and she doesn’t even know what I’m saying. “

“Well, if Daddy wants to get some,” you ironically say, “he should close it down.”

The Joker kisses Emma’s nose and she giggles, ticklish.

“You think mommy’s bluffing?” he whispers. “I bet I can get some no matter what, she can’t resist me.”

“You realize I can hear you, right?” you lift your eyebrows, annoyed.

Needless to say Daddy slept on the couch all night.

 Requested by anon:

Also read - MASTERLIST :

http://diyunho.tumblr.com/post/153664676321/joker-x-reader-masterlist

Canceled Jingle Ball Performance

Note:  i decided to write this one today because it relates to something that just happened and I didn’t want to wait and post it a couple weeks from now because thats how long it will probably take me to get to the bottom of my request list. Also, I combined two requests together again. 

Requested: Pukey Shawn?

I know you have a long list of requests but I thought I would send one in! I was wondering if you could write one about how he’s sick and had to cancel a jingle ball show (I just saw his tweet) and how you take care of him and such! BTW I love your writing!!

Masterlist

~~~

“Wake up,” You say, nudging your boyfriend. He doesn’t move much. “Shawn, get up.” You say, one last time before you disappear into the bathroom to get ready for the day. When you return from the bathroom about fifteen minutes later after getting ready, Shawn is still in bed. This catches you by surprise because he is normally pretty good about getting up. He has to be since he’s always being forced to wake up at ungodly hours for work. This morning isn’t even too early, but he knows he has to be up because he has some work commitments he needs to get to this morning before you get on your flight to San Jose for him to perform at the jingle ball there. You’ve only been in New York for two days, since he’s been preparing for his SNL performance. You’re both tired, but even when he’s tired, he isn’t normally this hard to get out of bed.

“Shawn,” You tell him again, seemingly for the fifteenth time this morning, “You gotta get up babe.”

“I feel like shit, (Y/n),” Finally comes his raspy voice, hidden somewhere behind the covers.

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2

*** I’m really loving this story line. 💘 No telling how many parts there will be but its gonna be lengthy. Here’s part 3 ***

Previous parts can be found here: http://imagineredwood.tumblr.com/post/139469603400/i-think-im-going-to-do-a-lot-with-this-one

“Maybe you could put in applications around town? I’m sure there’s places that will take you Jax. A garage or something.” Jax sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “I already work at a garage Tara.” “I know but another one. The club isn’t good for you. You could be doing so much better for yourself. Nothing good happens in this town.” “Then why did you come back?”

Tara stayed quiet and looked at Jax, her face blank. To be honest, Jax didn’t even know. She hated Charming and she hated the club. Jax didn’t want to say it but he was slowly beginning to think that she’d only come back because she knew he’d kill Kohn for her rather than because she loved him. She knew he wouldn’t stand for Kohn stalking her and making her feel unsafe. She was all gung ho to try their relationship again when they’d met for the first time since she’d come back then as soon as her problem was cold and dead, buried over in Chigger Woods, she comes out with the same old ‘maybe I don’t belong here’ shit she always did.

He’d left you 2 weeks ago and there wasn’t a day that passed where he didn’t think about you. Or you with Juice. The thought angered him even more every time he thought about it and by now he was seconds away from exploding. Every Time he saw you, you were right at Juices side or as of 3 days ago, in his lap. The thing that had pissed him off the most though was when he’d seen you drinking one of Juice’s smoothie cleanses. He’d heard Tig asking you about it and you’d said that Juice had gone over to your place and stayed there his whole day off, cooking and making the smoothies with you.

It was simple but the thought of Juice being with you alone all day made Jax see red. What if he started staying there? Did he spent the night? Did you let him sleep in your bed with you? On his side? The realization that it wasn’t his side anymore had Jax growling and standing abruptly, entirely forgetting that he was even talking to Tara before. “Jax?” “I gotta go.” “I’m sorry, I’ll drop it. I just want what’s best for you.” Jax nodded and walked to the door. “Yeah.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m hungry.” “Wanna go out for lunch?” You nodded and looked at up from the sink to Juice. “Where?” “I don’t know. Seafood? Pizza?” You both thought for a moment before you smiled. “Pizza.” You nodded and your stomach growled in accordance, Juice nodding towards the exit of the clubhouse. “Let’s go. Let me take my girl out.” He smirked and winked while you smiled and blushed. Juice waited for you to dry your hands and walked out of the kitchen with you following behind him.

You walked with him to the exit and tried to will the redness in your cheeks to go down. Somewhere along the way in these 2 weeks of staying around Juice for your vengeance against Jax, you’d found yourself developing feelings for him. You’d been friends for a while and you’d always liked being around him but the recent closeness that the two of you had was beginning to bring out feelings for Juice that you didn’t know you had. You’d always found him to be handsome. He was adorable and rugged, both in perfect balance and a great guy with a big heart.

You’d had a lot of fun hanging out with him and you actually found yourself feeling down whenever you had to separate. He came to your house often and when he didn’t feel like it after a long day, he’d call you to go over to him. In the beginning you’d just sit with him in the clubhouse or on his couch and watch random movies on Netflix, just laughing and eating but slowly the distance between the two of you had gotten smaller and smaller and the last couple times had ended with you dosing off with him on his couch, your head on his shoulder and his arm around you. You had yet to spend the night with each other though and you weren’t sure if that would be a good idea to do so.

Originally, that had been the plan. You’d hang out a little and then start staying with each other over night but it was supposed to just be to piss Jax off. Now you didn’t know. You hadn’t planned to get feelings for him but you did, and fast. The thought worried you and you pushed it to the back of your mind, heading out towards Juice’s bike. You climbed on behind him and secured your helmet, pulling out if the lot and making a left down the street towards the restaurant, just missing Jax as he pulled in from the right seconds later.

Walking up to the clubhouse, he saw Chibs and Tig siting outside by the table and joined them, needing advice. Before he was able to say anything though, Chibs could already tell something was off. “What’s wrong, my boy?” Jax sighed and shook his head, sitting down by his brothers, the two of them looking at him intently, though they both could already guess what the problem was.

“It’s just Y/n man. Girls getting under my skin.” “Because of the whole Juice thing?” Jax looked over with narrowed eyes. “Yes, because of the Juice thing.” Tig shrugged and looked over at Chibs, the Scotsman speaking up. “She’s just trying to find comfort Jackie. She’s hurt. You broke her heart and now she’s seeing that maybe it wasn’t meant to be.” He was trying to keep it polite while still getting his point across that Jax didn’t really have a reason to be angry. Not after what he’d put you through. Either way, he wanted Jax to realize his mistake on his own.

“What if she falls in love with him?” “What if she does? I don’t see your issue here Jax. You left her because you found someone better for you and now she’s with Juice because she found someone better for her.” Jax anger flared up and he stood swiftly. “He’s not better for her than me!” “And Tara’s not better for you than her and yet here we are.”

Jax looked at Chibs, hands folded in front of him and staring at Jax with a less than pleased expression. Jax looked down at the ground, a tugging feeling in his heart and after a moments hesitation, he asked his brothers the question he’d been trying to avoid since the moment he left you. “Do you think it was a mistake? Leaving her for Tara?” Both Tig and Chibs shared a looked, before looking back to Jax. “What do you think?”

distant-teenagers-deactivated20  asked:

Yes! Stackson is my life, so could you write me something fluffy of them? Like a snow day one or something, complete with hot chocolate and cuddles? I would die happy.

Stiles is pissed, honestly.

He saved up for months to take this trip to London, and he did it so that he could get some sense knocked into him. Literally, if necessary. Because ever since the nogitsune, all his friends have been dancing around him, with no idea what to say. And he gets it. It takes a special kind of fucked up to know how to help someone get past being possessed. But if there’s anyone who’d know what to say without treating Stiles like he could break at any moment, it’s Jackson. He figured, Jackson’s been through it before, and as an added bonus, he’s an asshole, so he’d know what to do, what to say. He wouldn’t sugar coat it. It’d be good.

But then he got there, and Jackson met him at the airport and greeted him with an “Alright?” with his new British slang and a hint of a British accent (which was admittedly adorable), and he carried his bags and bought him lunch and was generally un-Jackson-like, so yeah, Stiles is pissed.

“Dude,” Stiles says over dinner that night. “Seriously, what the hell?”

“What?” Jackson asks, raising a brow.

What?“ Stiles asks incredulously. "It’s been eight hours and you haven’t said anything sarcastic, snarky, or douchey. That’s what.”

Jackson just shrugs. It’s infuriating.

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