i take pictures of magazines


Tagged by @minniedeer for favorite bias & favorite photo.

tagging @softboyjinho@babynamine9907@shindongchocolate@firebowwowwow

The best photoshoot.

– Hello guys, I am (y/n) and I will take photos from you today. – I introduce myself for the boys with a big smile. 

 It’s funny when I accepted the invitation to take pictures of the for a magazine no one had told me how fucking sexy they are. When I look at them I see some surprised looks for me. 

– God, you are beautiful. – Slash says looking at me. I had time to record the names of all of them. 

 – And sexy… 

 – Duff! – Izzy berated Duff by slapping his head. 

 – Uh… Thank you guys but we really need to start this photoshoot so… do what you want.  – I stand behind the scenario and and I turn the camera to them. 

 – I have a question  (y/n)! – Axl raises his hand like a student. 

 – Ok… 

– I really want to kiss you and you tell to us to do what we want… – he is interrupted when Izzy sleps him on the head. I smile again. 

– This is very nice boys but I’m working and I need to take these pictures. 

 – I’m sorry for them. – Izzy says a little ashamed. 

 So I start to take pictures of them and they totally forget about flirting with me and get really happy with this because this proves how much they respect my work and they are professionals even drinking. 

 – Jeez why is this always so tiring? – Steven asks drinking his vodka. 

 – I think we can make a a little break. – I get up and give the camera to my assistant and then I loosey my hair. 

 – I think you are the most beautiful woman I ever seen in my life! – Slash says and I smile at him. 

– That’s really cute but… 

– You guys are being abusive! She is working. – Izzy says impatient. 

 – Izzy is right but you are a beautiful woman and we don’t know what to say. – this time is Duff who says. 

 – How about don’t say anything? – Izzy asks and Steven snorts. 

 – You are unbearable today. – Steven grunts.

 – Uh… that’s ok because to be honest I think I would go out with one of you. – they look at me totally surprise when I says. 

– Wait! WHAT? – Slash asks. 

– Please tell say you’d go out with me! – Duff says looking at me with hope in his eyes and I start to laugh. 

– I am sorry guys but we need to go back to work. – I take the camera back. 

 – Oh my God this is a torment. – Axl says while I take the pictures. 

 This is very funny, thir faces very confused and waiting me to say something while I took the pictures was very funny.   One hour and a hundred photos after the session ended. 

 – Ok… finish guys thank you for the time. – I smile at them one more time and turned to leave. 

 – Oh wait right there, we want to know! – Steven says and I stop, I look at them again and smile. 

 – I was just kidding I can’t get evolved with anyone I’ve worked with, bye bye. 

While I left there I heard some comments from them and calling me back but I really needed to get out of there but when I got in the car, I thought it would be nice to go out with Izzy. He is really handsome and sexy and seems to be smart. I get scared when I saw him banging on my window. 

– I was wondering if you wanna to go have some coffee with me or… I don’t know…. 

 – How do you know I want to go out with you and not with the others? – when I ask he smiles at me. 

– Well…. I don’t know but I really, really, really want to take you on a date…

 – A date? – I ask surprised. 

– Yes, so… –  so I smile and sigh. 

– Ok. 

– Oh thank you, I couldn’t stand those guys talking about you. 

 – And why? – he smiles again when I ask. He smile is so fucking perfect. 

– Because as I said I really want to take you on a date. 


Miura Haruma for the magazine TV guide Fuyu-dan 2014
[Snow pictures]
You can even watch a short video about the making of the photoshoot here: 

(Pictures from my own magazine. Please, credit the magazine, the artist and my tumblr if sharing. Thank you)

“Do your best, be good to yourself, be good to others.”


we did art therapy at the lgbt group
first we had to take a picture in magazines but i ended up with buncha birds, sheep and the guardians squad
then we had to draw a mandala from it so i drew rocket

NSFW (Nice Stuff For Werewolves)

Summary: Stiles happens to be around when Derek gets a special delivery. (This is not a euphemism)

Notes: There was a post going around tumblr that said NSFW= Nice Stuff For Werewolves, and it inspired this little fic. Also, someone should tell me if this is crack, because I just can’t tell any more. (On AO3)

Stiles is sprawled out on Derek’s couch when the doorbell rings, and he startles hard, almost dropping the book he’s reading. Derek makes a point to smirk at him as he walks past.

“Hey, I can’t help it,” Stiles huffs. “I didn’t even know you had a doorbell.”

“That’s because you always just come barging in,” Derek says over his shoulder. He slides open the door, and accepts a package from an out-of-breath FedEx guy.

Keep reading

Help Me Remember (Ch.2) - I’ve Never Been in Love Before

Series Summary: The night was going smoothly as you snuggled on your couch with your snacks by your side and Supernatural on TV. However, the peaceful rest was cut short when you started hearing voices, out of nowhere, calling your name, asking you to wake up.  The voices soon turned into yelling, as you fought to stay conscious, but soon enough, the darkness took over, and you collapsed.

As you opened your heavy lids, a smell of whiskey and gunpowder hit your nose, making you wonder where the hell where you, and how you got there in the first place. After inspecting where you were, and getting familiar with your situation you were in, you realized that you were in some kind of parallel universe where the events of Supernatural are the reality. Or were you? Maybe you have been there your entire life, and what you thought to be a reality was actually an illusion created by someone? Guess you’ll just have to find out.

Chapter 1

Words: 2397

Warnings: None

Castiel x Reader

A/N: I will be posting new chapters every Wednesday and Sunday.

Keep reading

blue night radio ♡ 160610

jonghyun: i had a photoshoot to do awhile back and it was so strenuous. i don’t really prefer doing magazine photoshoots because i don’t really like taking pictures (/ having my picture taken). i was having a hard time so i told the staff to play dean’s songs. i remember they played “21” and it gave me strength. i know dean as a songwriter first. after listening to his demo songs, i thought he was such a good rookie songwriter but, then, he suddenly made a debut. then again, he sings so well that i’d (originally) thought: “ah, if he’s this good he must make a debut.” (source: thatcoolcatmeow)

Mood bound

Originally posted by dhjung

Warnings: Sex and horny jokes with our favorite saxophonist.

I’ve lost count of my steps for a while before I realized it. All I want is to walk on my bare feet, getting them back to the natural position they were born with. But instead, they’re trapped in these 7-inches heels, struggling to compromise with the pain that is slowly spreading from my ankles. Only now that pieces of my shattered dignity remember the words slipped through his lips. Early in the morning, he stopped by my office with a cup of hot espresso, not forgetting to deliver a warm smile to tell me that he could offer me a ride home, instead of having to take the bus. I was so glad to finally have a boss who treated the employees well and accepted without a moment of second thinking. Yet as soon as I settled myself on the freshly new leather passenger seat of his dandy black 4-wheel Mercedes, we took another turn. He started talking about one night hotels and nights that he considered to be passionate and intimate. His diction made me sick and disgust of the kind of person he really was. But before I could vomit on the carpet that probably costs more than my monthly wage, I stepped out of that care and smacked in his face with the two most revolutionary words “I quit!”

Now here I am, striding through the streams of people with my bleeding toes icy skin, completely exposed to the harshness of Seoul’s early spring. A drop of water lands on the top of my head. I hold out my hand and drops of rain hit it like little explosions. People run hysterically, looking for a place to hide from heaven’s sadness. So I’m not the only one who had a bad day. I quickly run to a small café located a few steps away. Standing in the pathway into the entrance, I wipe the remaining wetness off my shoulders. I look up to where the light is above my head.

“Mood bound” - big, lower case letters of glowing white neon.

The café inside has a few tables scattering asymmetrically around. Each table contains two seats and up to the maximum of four. There are candles on the wooden shelves and on the steps of the stairway leading up to the upper level. There is no sign of electronic lights, accept for the golden incandescent light bulb shining above the stage. On that stage, a young man with coffee brown hair is playing his saxophone, entertaining the few customers with a funky upbeat jazz number. I choose the table closest to him as the request of my curiosity. He closes his eyes while his delicate fingers surf on the keys, flaunting his silky eyelashes. Wearing this black vest outside of a gray shirt with half of his sleeves rolled up, he looks like those male models in the advertisement page of a magazine. I want to take a picture of him, but the essence of his music keeps my mind busy. The view captivates every way I can exclaim and for a brief moment, I have no regrets about what happened earlier.

The music stops coming out from his saxophone, following by a pause of time and a round of applause. He stands up and bows to his audience. The moment he retreats from his bow, our eyes meet. I’ve never tasted eternity before until now. It feels like my heart skips an integral beat that can make or break my life and my blood cells are going against their current. He bends down to put his saxophone in the navy blue case and leaves the stage.

Don’t leave. Where are you going?

“Miss, are you ready to order?” The waitress seems like she has been waiting here for ages and is supposed to lose her patience anytime.

“I’m sorry. A cup of cappuccino, please.” I wait a bit for her to finish writing my order down. “Do you know when that saxophonist is going to perform here again?”

She smiles. “Taehyung is here every Friday. He plays the songs ordered by our customers so if you come next time, don’t forget to request one too.”

My brain immediately writes a new post-it note.




I quickly find myself become a regular customer at Mood Bound, a Friday customer to be exact. My seat never changes, making sure that I have the best view of Taehyung as well as he can notice me from the dark audience seats. Every time coming here, I request a new song that I found the day before on the Internet. The way he plays it matches me like two pieces next to each other in a puzzle. Sometimes he smiles toward my direction. I always try to photograph those moments with my eyes as clearly as I can so that when I’m deepened in my dream, I’ll take them out and create my own gallery. Today is not an exception. It’s becoming some kind of routine, like waking up and brushing your teeth.

Taehyung did a wonderful job performing today. As always, the crowd adores him. They cheer for him with longer rounds of applause and sometimes stand up from their seats. For me, I always smile. He and his saxophone draw so many emotions on my face, I’m glad most of them are happy and emotional. He puts his saxophone in the case as usual and heads off the stage. By this time, I’m ready to pay for my coffee and return to my cold apartment. But while I’m searching through my purse for changes, the seat opposite mine is pulled away. Sitting in front of me is now the guy who was on stage earlier. My eyes open widely, looking at the calmness of his smile. Whatever reasons that he’s sitting here, I’m secretly thankful for it.

“Did you enjoy the performance?” He asks. His voice is deeper than I expected.

“Very much. I’m your biggest fan.” I can’t help but burst out a wide smile.

“Thank you.” He says. “You gave a lot of good song requests, too.”

“How do you…?”

“Oh, you came here so often so I recognize your handwriting.”

He notices my handwriting.

“I haven’t had anything since lunch yet. Do you… maybe… want to grab something to eat right now?” His sudden offer confuses me a little bit. One moment, I was admiring him from below the stage and now we’re having a dinner date. Calm down Y/N. Freaking out will only make you look more like a dork in front of him.

“Sure.” I nod. “But let’s go to my house. I had everything cooked there.”

He seems a bit surprised. After a second or two, he accepts.




“I’m sorry if it’s too mediocre.” I look at his empty plate. “We should have eaten out.”

“No, don’t be. It was so delicious. Thank you!”

As much as I want to believe in his angelic smile, a sense of guilt that I didn’t serve him how a guest should be served tickles my stomach. The fact that he finished everything brightens my mood up a bit. I got to know Taehyung through the little conversations during our meal. He talked a lot about playing the saxophones and the experiences he had on stage. His life sounded so dynamic and festive, making mine seems rather pathetic. And I was busy looking at the features on his face and falling in love with them.

“Now you make me want to play the saxophone.” I laugh as he mentions the girls he met through the instrument.

“I can teach you.” He says excitedly, taking the saxophone out of his case. Taehyung places my hands on it, ensuring they are where they have to be. My heart races uncontrollably as I feel his chest pressed against my back. The contact of our fingers sends a tsunami of electric throughout my body. Once again, I’m shaking under his aura and this time, it is worse. My body shuts down, blocking all of my commands out of its reach. The muscle of my fingers disobeys me. It controls my body in a different direction.

“No! It has to be like this.” His increase in the volume of voice shocks my heart. Just when I turn around, his cheek is right there, inches away from my lips. I didn’t notice how close we have been. He turn to where my face is and now the only thing between our lips is the blurred line waiting for us to cross. The pupils of my eyes shrink as Taehyung crosses that boundary to reach to where I am. He presses in deeper, melting my stiff body like a Popsicle under the sunny summer sky. I place my hand on his cheek, sinking myself harder into the sweetness of his tongue. He puts the saxophone down next to me and his hands focus on roaming on my back.

My clothes come off by him, but with the voluntary help from me. Everything happens so quickly, giving me not a single time gap to refill my breath. I take the fancy clothes off his body, leaving this baby smooth caramel skin underneath. The more Taehyung leans forward into the kiss, the more I lean backward until my back hits the carpet. Like a snake, he swiftly slides down to where my core is. With the same lips that blow the saxophone, he uses the techniques he knows on me. The little kiss marks he leaves make me chuckle. Along with the sensual feeling of his tongue licking up and down my clit, the way he cutely stroke my core stamps a smile on my face.

“Is this the same with you and your saxophone?” I ask.

“Of course not.” I feel his smirk against the side of my core. “How can it be like this wet core of yours?”

I giggle as he continues to suck the juice coming out of my body. He takes a long lick of the inside of my core, making my body shiver. Just like his saxophone, whenever he blows into my core, I make a sound that no languages can interpret. Taehyung sits up straight and I can see the sticky white milk on the side of his mouth. I burst out more than I can imagine, but I have him to blame.

“Now for the fun part.” He looks down at his harden erection, then to my face. I put a half of a grin between my sweaty cheeks and dark eyes.

“With pleasure.”

Taehyung inserts himself in smoothly. Once he is completely sunk in, his hips begin to thrust into my pelvis. I grip on the carpet as he grabs tightly on my thighs. My mouth open widely, feeling my sensitive spots being hit continuously. Orgasm builds up like dozens of little water balloon inside the lower half of my body, ready to explode anytime they are overloaded. He picks up his pace, trying to hold on every opportunity to keep the climax going. The invisible water balloons stretch my muscles outward, tighten them up with extreme tension. I can feel them reaching their capability and finally burst out. Water flows out of my core like an erupting volcano, soaking the carpet between my thighs. He pulls out and momentarily after, spills his seeds on my stomach.

He flops down and rolls to the side. Lying next to me, his breath forms into sounds of exhaustion. The aftermath feels more than just satisfying. It is definitely something new and memorable for my gallery.

“Well that was fun.” I huff.

“Rest quickly. We’re going to do this until the dawn breaks.” One of his hands gropes my breast. I guess I should begin to familiarize myself with this.

Inspired by the saxophone history of Taehyung the sexy porn star. Hope you guys enjoyed it!

So I just got this in the mail today…. ( ^ v ^ ) I wrote a little about this magazine last year.

I knew from the start that I am not pretty.

When I was seven years old, my name is not the one they write next to a heart and their own name just because I am nobody’s crush. I was never the one they wish they would be seatmates with. They would rather be beside the pretty girl in my class.

When I was nine years old, they never bothered looking at my direction for they would rather spend their time gazing at my friends with untangled long hair and round eyes. I was always the ugly friend.

When I was twelve years old, I was never the kind of girl who receives chocolates, love letters or flowers on Valentine’s day. This is also one of he reasons why I dread this occasion. It makes me feel small and worthless.

When I was fourteen years old, I was never the kind of girl boys ask for her number or facebook account. I was the neglected one. The wallflower. The one who spends most of her time talking to few friends because having a boyfriend is out of my options.

I have always looked at myself in the mirror hating what I see. I hate my frizzy hair, my oily face, my dull lips and my small eyes. I hate it how I could not be classified as pretty. I have always envied those other girls who can always get anyone’s attention without trying so hard to do so. I hate how I am always on the sidelines and how I could never own the spotlight.

I used to pity myself for I thought that I could never have the kind of love that I always wanted to have just because I could not be the kind of girl they take pictures for magazine covers. I thought that I would have to live my life alone.

But as I grew older I have learned to accept this fact. I learned that being pretty is not everything. I learned to love the parts of me and let it bloom so that I could share it with everyone else. I learned to know how to appreciate the things that I could do.

I learned that someone could love me even if I am not like the other girls. Someone could accept me because of my personality, not just because of what they could see with their naked eye. I learned that being pretty is not a big deal after all.

Yes, I am not pretty but so what? That six-letter word could never define me. I have a whole galaxy inside of me. My thoughts are deeper than the ocean. My life is a message that I would like everyone to read and I would spend my lifetime trying to inspire those people I have intersected with. I would not let anyone drag me to the bottom just because I lack the physical attractiveness that they are looking for. There is more than what you could see on my skin.

I may not be pretty but a lot of people made me realize that I am so much more than that. I am exquisite, breathtaking, dashing and beautiful. Others’ opinions do not matter anyway.

—  n.a., i am not pretty and i am perfectly okay with that

anonymous asked:

Hey so I saw your post about triggers and was thinking about it. And I get the need for triggers for a lot of things. But I really don't see why people should tag stuff that's seen in everyday life? I've seen people tag images of people as "tw: body image" an tag pictures of food. I just don't understand why that's necessary when it's something you're going to have to see all the time.

Because the world is trash. It’s absolute garbage - full of misogyny, racism, heterosexism, cissexism, the list goes on and on and on. All of this works at an institutional level, which prevents meaningful change in attitudes or practical improvements in people’s lives. We live in a society that, on the daily, perpetrates these problems, through huge issues like wage discrepancy or targeted violence, or small issues like internalized misogyny or plots on our television shows. On an individual level, some people are cruel and self centered, and the news is littered with stories of these people taking advantage of others. There are good people and good things about the world, sure, but there’s also a lot out there that is disrespectful, brutal and dangerous.

I don’t come on tumblr to remind people of that. For me, this website is a separate space, where I can relax from whatever shit I’m doing in the world. This place isn’t ideal either, of course - people are still vicious to each other, especially when they can hide behind their computer screens. But I refuse to be one of those people. If I can make someone feel more comfortable here than they do in the world, then I am happy to. If I can help them to forget their body image issues or anxieties, then all the fucking better. I wish I could take out the airbrushed pictures of celebrities in magazines, and the societal pressures that tell women they need to look a certain way - but I can’t. What I can do, right now in my life, is control how I run this blog and how I interact with other people. And I intend to do that with as much respect, open mindedness and kindness as I can. 

Tagging trigger warnings is such a small, nice thing to do. I’m not even sure why it’s discussed, when it takes so little effort and can help someone else feel more comfortable. It’s just a question of being decent to each other, I think, that’s all. 

@therealjaydamccoy:Im so blessed! Thought I share!
After taking a picture with Bobby and Zendaya. I asked her to sign my magazine. At first security said “No autographs today, keep it moving”, I walked away so disappointed.All the sudden I hear from a lot of people “Wait” Zendaya is calling back over to her", I look behind me and see her waiving me down to go back and get her autograph. It was so amazing 😆.Shes my idol and i finally got to meet her! 💞💕👍☝@zendaya