need to clear these out

I CAN’T BELIEVE ED SHEERAN WROTE “NEW MAN” ABOUT HARRY STYLES

“he spent five hundred pounds on jeans”

“He’s got his eyebrows plucked and his asshole bleached”

“Tribal tattoos and he don’t know what it means”

“And wears a man bag on his shoulder, but I call it a purse”

“Drinks beer, but has a six pack, I’m kinda jealous”

“He wears sunglasses indoors, in winter, at nighttime”

“Now you’re eatin’ kale, hittin’ the gym”

Originally posted by imabeast78

3

Ruth Negga for Irish Tatler (Feb. 2013)

Negga’s a powerful actor, the voice low and layered with bite. Her expression, in neutral, has a sort of stoic hurt to it, making her an ideal tragedian. And it can’t go unmentioned that she’s stunning to look at: half Irish, half Ethiopian, massive eyes, pronounced chin and cheekbones.

The Things We Give Welsh Learners: y Babi Sinsir

So I was going through our bookshelf yesterday, because we’re fast approaching the point where we need a clear-out, and I came across one of my all-time favourite creations ever, probably even beating shit like the wheel and penicillin. Years back, before leaving The Man to pursue his dreams of being a sort of professional clown-thing, my husband used to be a translator for Neath Port Talbot Council; as is often the way with Welsh councils, though, owing to a lack of money and also everywhere is really close to each other (this country is 150 miles wide at its widest point, and about 47 miles at the thin bit. Ver ver small), NPT Council’s translating department was shared by Swansea Council. Thus it was that, in the halcyon days of circa 2009, the two decided to team up and produce a new Welsh language book for learners between them, and thus it got sent through to Steffan to proof read it.

A Thing You May Not Know: Welsh is one of ten indigenous languages to Britain, arguably the oldest, and has been viciously oppressed over the last millennium and a half as part of England’s big If You Destroy Their Culture They’ll Be Glad To Be Ruled By You policy. These days, it’s nonetheless still spoken by approximately a fifth of the Welsh population; a hell of a feat, considering, but the suppression of it continues to this day (just in cleverer, sneakier ways now than whipping people’s children if they’re heard.) But it is classified as Endangered. Thanks to Welsh-language schools now being a thing (though supply is much lower than demand), transmission rates to the younger generation are pretty good; but, Welsh is peculiarly dependent on adult learners.

This means that learner books might have to appeal to both children and adults while using very simple language, which I explain in case it in some way justifies the bewildering weirdness of what I’m about to show you; because at first glance, this book is simply for children. But it’s… Well. 

Well.

I present to you, with translations in bold and commentary by me, Y Babi Sinsir.

Literally, “the Ginger Baby”, but they mean ‘ginger’ as in ‘gingerbread’. Literal ginger. Not the colour.

This is Mr Jones. This is Mrs Jones.

What’s wrong, Mrs Jones? I want a baby.

Note: there will be some confusion in this book about whether the narrator is speaking, or anyone else. It might seem cut and dried here, but there are no speech marks around “Dw i eisiau babi”, whereas later speech marks are used, and also in two pages’ time the narrator will actively pass a value judgement using first person, so… Well.

But, so far so good.

Mrs Jones is making a Babi Sinsir.

… okay, so I like this page because of the capitalisation of Babi Sinsir and the lack of definite article. She’s just making a Babi Sinsir. You know, a Babi Sinsir? Magical baby made of gingerbread that you make if you can’t conceive but can’t afford IVF? Yeah. A Babi Sinsir. That’s right.

Let it be known that this is Not A Thing in Welsh folklore or mythology. What the fuck. How does this work. Where does the magic come from? Do you need a faerie ingredient? Will the next page tell us?

This is the Babi Sinsir. I like the Babi Sinsir.

Nope.

But it is apparently shit-capable and needs a nappy. It’s good that the narrator likes it anyway.

The Babi Sinsir is bad. He’s running.

Uh oh.

“Come back, Babi Sinsir.”

Look how Worried the Joneses are. Funny how they don’t seem to be calling that enthusiastically, though. I’d have expected an exclamation mark at least. Did Mrs Jones always have a massive left arm? I can’t remember.

“Run, run, catch me. I’m the Babi Sinsir.”

Yeah, okay, so that’s the Welsh for “Run! Run! As fast as you can! You can’t catch me, I’m the gingerbread man!”, but once again, I’m going to have to draw attention to the lack of expressive punctuation here. It really feels like this naughty Babi Sinsir’s heart is just not in this.

“Come and help, Mr Horse.” “Run, run, catch me. I’m the Babi Sinsir.”

Cool, look, a floating horse has come to help.

The pen there, incidentally, was an attempt by the translators to work out who was talking. I can’t imagine why. This dialogue is on fire, everyone can tell.

“Come and help, Mrs Cow.” “Run, run, catch me. I’m the Babi Sinsir.”

Now they have been joined in their high-speed zombie shuffle by a married floating cow who is, if I’m not much mistaken, high as shit.

“Come and help, Mr Goat.”  “Run, run, catch me. I’m the Babi Sinsir.”

I’m starting to suspect the artist only knew how to draw the legs on animals in one way.

“Come and help, Mr Dog.”  “Run, run, Catch me. I’m the Babi Sinsir.”

Yes, that dog is definitely here to ‘help’. Also… the Babi Sinsir is literally within reach of Mrs Jones’ massive left arm now. Why is she not just picking him up?

“Come and help, Miss Cat.” “Run, run, Catch me. I’m the Babi Sinsir.”

You may be wondering at this point if this is just… the whole book. An ever-increasing flock of floating zombie creatures shuffling after a naughty gingerbread baby in a nappy who is committing the cardinal sin of running. I mean… where can they go from here, amirite? A sheep? A squirrel? A chicken? We can hit a hundred pages this way, easy. The concern is the artist, whom I think was stretched a bit beyond their means on this project anyway.

BUT WORRY NOT! Shit’s about to go down, guys.

Oh no! Here comes Mr Wolf. Mr Wolf runs and catches the Babi Sinsir.

THAT IS A FOX

THAT IS A GODDAMN FOX YOU HEATHEN FUCK

WHAT THE FUCK

AND WHY THE FUCK IS IT WEARING CLOTHES WHEN NONE OF THE OTHER ANIMALS WERE

WHY IS IT DRESSED IN DUNGAREES LIKE A LAZY FARMHAND ON AN AMERICAN RANCH IN THE 1800S

This doesn’t bode well for the -

Half of the Babi Sinsir is left.

WHAT THE

Quarter of the Babi Sinsir is left.

WHY DOES IT STILL LOOK SAD AND HORRIFIED WHY IS IT STILL ALIVE OH MY GOD

The Babi Sinsir has gone! There’s tasty.

What the

Wha

It

I realise this is not the main point to make here, but two pages ago it had eaten half of that nappy, and now it’s whole again and delicately discarded to one side, I just want

I mean

It’s okay, right? This happens in fairytales? Little Red Riding Hood? Someone will eviscerate the fox and out will come the Babi Sinsir…’s pieces, and they can be baked back together…?

No one cares!

Mrs Jones is making another Babi Sinsir.

The new Babi Sinsir loves Mrs Jones.

… 

…okay, so there’s a lot for us all to take in right now, and we’re all going to get through it at different speeds. But I’m just going to draw attention to the fact that Mr Jones is now merely depicted as a picture on the wall, and the new Babi Sinsir apparently only loves Mrs Jones, and…

Okay so they just lost their beloved baby gingerbread son because he got eaten alive by a fox in dungarees calling itself a wolf, right? Mrs Jones apparently couldn’t give less of a fuck if she tried, as long as she has some flour and ginger left over to make another. This one she made to love her.

Mr Jones, I presume, had a total mental breakdown and drank himself to death. At the very least, he’s left her, look. All she has left is the photo.

But does dim ots! Mae’r Babi Sinsir newydd yn caru Mrs Jones.

And that is the story of Y Babi Sinsir, aka the greatest work of literature ever written.

Alright as much as I adore Yuuri and Victor being ridiculously in love and basically joined at the hip, I also love the idea of Yuuri, introvert that he is, just needing to be alone sometimes. After all, no matter how much you love someone with all your heart - a friend, a partner, a sibling - if you spend every waking hour of every waking day with them, that can be exhausting. They sleep together, train together, eat together, and are really only apart when one of them runs errands alone or one wakes up early to walk Makkachin in the morning while the other sleeps in, and sometimes Yuuri just needs to be by himself. 

Victor doesn’t understand at first. This whole thing is new to him anyway, and he doesn’t get that Yuuri isn’t mad at him when he retires early into movie night or occasionally seems to prefer the dog’s company to his. He’s frustrated that Yuuri won’t just tell him why he’s angry, and Yuuri is frustrated that Victor doesn’t understand that he isn’t. He really isn’t. 

It takes them some time and a few minor quarrels, but Victor slowly starts to realize what he means - that as much as Yuuri loves him (and he doesn’t doubt that Yuuri does), he needs time to himself, a place of his own. They share everything - a home, a bedroom, a bathroom, a rink - and Yuuri has very little to call his and his alone. 

So when Yuuri is away on a trip to visit his parents in Hasetsu - a trip that Victor knows he needed to take alone, just this once - Victor gets to work. 

He clears out the old dusty boxes and books from the small extra room, finds new places for some things and donates the rest of them. He vacuums and dusts and puts down a fluffy rug over the cold hard wood, puts in a kotatsu because he knows Yuuri’s feet get cold easily in the bitter Russian winter, and piles the love seat by the window high with every blanket and pillow he can spare. As a finishing touch he even puts in a doggy door so that Makkachin can come and go as he pleases even whenever Yuuri wants to keep the door shut.

When Yuuri comes home and gets unpacked, Victor hustles him over to the room with a grin on his face. And Yuuri is confused at first: “Vitya, what is this?” And Victor just smiles at him and kisses him on the cheek. “It’s your room.” 

At first he can see the tiniest glint of anxiety flitting across Yuuri’s eyes, can practically hear him wondering if Victor is kicking him out of their bed, and he is quick to correct him. To tell him that he knows he doesn’t understand fully what goes on in Yuuri’s head, but that he also knows Yuuri needed his own space. To keep him sane, to keep him calm, and when Yuuri realizes - really realizes - what Victor has done for him, he could cry.

Sometimes they curl up together on the loveseat and watch snow fall outside, or eat together with their feet tucked warmed under the kotatsu. Sometimes Yuuri lounges with a book or his music and Makkachin on his lap. Sometimes he keeps the door open, and sometimes he shuts it, and that’s okay too, because he always comes out eventually, and he seems lighter, more rested, more calm. 

Victor doesn’t need to spend every second with him to know he loves him. Knowing Yuuri is happy and comfortable makes the time they spend together so much sweeter.

Illness/Sickness Sentence Starters
  • “Are you okay?”
  • “You are looking rather peaky there.”
  • “Was that you or did a goose with bronchitis flew in here?”
  • “You’re not looking too hot.”
  • “Woah! You almost fell over!”
  • “I think that has to be a record sneeze sequence.” 
  • “Are… are you allergic?”
  • “Are you sick or hungover? Your eyes are a little red.” 
  • “You’re very flushed- are you feeling well?” 
  • “You’ve been asleep for the past twelve hours and I got a little worried.” 
  • “You okay in there?”
  • “Uh, there’s a bucket to your left if you need it.” 
  • “I brought you some ginger ale and some soup!” 
  • “Here, I brought you another blanket.” 
  • “I’m not feeling all that great.”
  • “Why is the room spinning?”
  • “Are you cold or is it just me?”
  • “I think dinner’s not agreeing with me…”
  • “My head hurts.” 
  • “I can’t breathe.” 
  • “I am so clogged up I think I need a plunger to clear me out.” 
  • “Can you bring me another blanket please?”
  • “We’re out of tissues…”
  • “What kind of tea is it to help again?” 
  • “I think my head’s going to explode.”

just a friendly reminder that kj apa is 19, almost 20, tho younger than tv shows usually cast to play teenagers he’s still college age. archie andrews is supposed to be a sophomore in high school who are usually 14 to 16 years old.

kj looks like this:

but a real sophomore in high school-archie would look more like this:

so if i catch any of u talking about grundy like she’s not a gross pedophile character i’ll beat ur ass

It’s About Damn Time

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Dean and Reader are working a vampire case. When Dean decides to go in alone, things go a little differently than planned.

Word Count: 5204

Warnings: Swearing. Because I’m a fucking lady. Vampire gore and killing. Being tied up. Smut. Again, lady. Fingering. P in V sex. 

A/N: This is for @luci-in-trenchcoats 2k Follower Challange. My prompt was “Wanna try that again like you mean it?”, which is bolded in the fic. Beta’d by the ever lovely @wheresthekillswitch. Thanks for helping me make what I had even better! Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated.

Tags at the bottom. If you want added/removed, let me know!


“Dammit, Dean, answer your phone.” You’re starting to get worried now.

This is the fourth time you’ve called him, and when his voice comes over the line telling you to leave a message, it’s the fourth time you’ve had to swallow down the fear so it doesn’t come through in your voice. “You were supposed to just watch him, Winchester. If you’ve gotten yourself into trouble again, so help me God, you’re going to pay.”

You end the call, tapping your phone against your palm as you try to think. You suck a breath in through your nose, hold it for 5 seconds, then release it. You need to clear your head, figure out your next step. He’s got the Impala, of course, so if you plan on finding the him you’re going to have to borrow a car for a bit. You grab your leather jacket off the chair back, swinging it over your shoulders, shoving your hands through the sleeves as you grab your room key and head for the door. You check your phone one more time before sliding it into your pocket, shutting the door behind you as you scan the parking lot of the motel, eyes squinted to the bright mid-day sun.

There aren’t many cars parked in the poorly paved lot, and the ones that are there aren’t ones you want to trouble yourself with. You jog over to the diner across the street, eyes hopping from one car to the next until you spot a nondescript compact sitting in the back row. Yahtzee.

It’s old enough you shouldn’t have to worry about a security system but still looks like it should get you where you’re going without worrying that it’s going to break down. You walk to the car with purpose, looking for all the world like you own it. You slow as you near, hand automatically reaching out to try the handle. It always amazes you how many people just leave their vehicles unlocked in these small towns. You curl your fingers under the handle and give a tug, and sure enough, the door opens right up. With a smirk, you slide in to hotwire it and get your ass moving.

Keep reading

Practice

Requested by @captaindanindlovu​. I hope you like it!

Summary: Jared Padalecki x reader. Gen gives Jared and the reader permission to do what they’d like.

Warning: Smut, dry humping

Word Count: 2500

A/N: I’m still new to this RPF thing, so I hope y’all enjoy this! XOXO


Sex scenes aren’t the most comfortable scenes to shoot.

Sex scenes are even more uncomfortable when you’re shooting in front of the guy’s wife, who just happens to be visiting and has been given permission to be on the closed set.

Sex scenes are even more uncomfortable when you’re trying to get over the attraction you’ve developed to said married guy.

And sex scenes are incredibly uncomfortable when the married guy who you’re simulating sex with gets an erection. In front of the visiting wife.

Keep reading

2

1 hour plus no lineart/sketch challenge - I’m a little out of practice with watercolour, so I thought I’d better paint something and who else to do except the literal water gem :3

3

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9


The view of National City from Lena’s bed was by far one of Kara’s favourites.  There was a stillness that came with the the dimmed lights of 2 am offset by the solid thud of Lena’s heart as she slept.  Kara should have known from the light stutter and the soft sigh that Lena had woken.  But it wasn’t until Lena spoke, that Kara realised her sleepless habit had been caught.  They were silent, Kara listening to the rhythm of Lena’s pulse as she watched the lights of the city from the large window at the foot of the bed.

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popular-to-contrary-belief  asked:

So I'm the completely inexperienced DM for a D&D group and I have no clue what to do. Any advice? Thanks!

I’d be glad to help.

I’d like to start off with a simple story, one of when I was thirteen years old and in a similar position at the table as yourself - the DM’s seat. My first game was some of the most bare-bones, brik-a-brak, Bizarro-land D&D you can imagine. I had a sprawling, nonsensical, maze-like dungeon map scrawled out onto the back page of my mathematics book in pencil crayon. We used a printed out PDF version of some outdated rules set that I don’t even believe was anything close to genuine. We didn’t have any dice beyond the ones scrounged from board game boxes like monopoly and snakes and ladders, so I made my own out of cardboard and sellotape. Without any d20s, I decided that we were instead going to use two d6s and two d4s, as 6+4+6+4 equaled 20. Our mini figures were bottle caps and pennies, and the dungeon tiles were inch-square tiles cut from cereal boxes that I had been preparing for weeks.

Despite all of this disastrous preparation, I cannot remember anything poorly about it. I only know that it somehow worked and I stuck with it. I improved - exponentially so. And so will you.

Like anything in life that takes time and commitment, you can only be patient. Even now I recognise the failings of my games. I can still see the bottle cap mini-figures and raggedy dice equivalents in my story and narrative - concepts that I would never have even been close to comprehending had they been introduced to me at the beginning.

Therefore, i’d wish you the best of fortune for your game, but I think we both know that you’d settle for a solid 6/10 on your first-try. So let’s discuss how we can reach that golden standard.

Think small

Start at level 1, introduce a very understandable setting, and don’t feel as if you have to try anything you aren’t comfortable with just because other DMs have done it. Maybe bandits have kidnapped the local mayor’s child, maybe the church has accidentally uncovered a hidden catacomb entrance in the graveyard, maybe a nearby cave needs clearing out by a shepherd?

These low-power, tactile plot-hooks are great for first-time players and veterans alike. Now you have a framework, it is time to assess your options.

Variety

Let’s go with the bandit kidnapping example for this, although feel free to try whatever you want and change the details as you see fit. Nobody, not even you, wants every conflict within the bandit dungeon hideout to be a square room with 3 bandits. It will get repetitive. An incredibly easy way to address this is to mix things up. Maybe one room is partially flooded and a makeshift walkway is how you get from one side to the other, maybe the bandits have a room with a cage full of pet … ostriches, or boars, or fishmen, who they will release if attacked, maybe the entrance has a single, absent-minded guard sitting on his lonesome, only he has a large, brass gong beside him as an alarm? It doesn’t matter if it doesn’t make perfect sense; it’s D&D, we gave up on cohesion when we sat down at the table in the first place.

The Catch

Introduce an element to the adventure that inspires urgency in the players, that’ll disencourage them from dallying about. Maybe the mayor will refuse to pay them if the do not complete the job in a week, maybe the mayor has learned that the bandits will sell the victim off to slavers or another rival baron if they do not hurry, maybe the victim has a wedding in a week’s time that they simply must be rescued for? Choose one, stick with it, make it important, be careful to make it fair - not too generous, not too harsh. 1 hour is too harsh, 1 month may be too generous.

The Twist

Go full M. Night Shamalamading-dong on their asses. Throw something totally unexpected in there that you will do next session, right at the end. Maybe the child is working for the bandit king as is planning to betray their father and must be convinced otherwise, maybe the cave enters onto an underground smuggler’s city and the child is lost somewhere within the hive of scum and villainy, maybe the bandits all work for a necromancer who teleports away with the child as the players arrive to free him, leaving his evil, undead minions to fight on his behalf? Just make sure to give the players something to follow - like a clue - so that they know what they have to do next. Because when the players are excited to continue, you have done your job, good sir.

Finally,

Here are some YouTube channels who I’d highly recommend you watch, since their content has inspired me on countless occasions.

Drunkens & Dragons - This guy is crazy entertaining, crazy talented, and just plain crazy. He is very good for ideas and mechanics to make your game awesome and cool, and doesn’t go so deep into complex topics that an amateur will become intimidated.

Matthew Colville - A fantastically enthralling listen awaits you on the other side of this hyperlink. He is entertaining, interesting, and answers a lot of big, broad questions you may have about more vague and itty-bitty game things.

How to be a Great Game Master - This channel tackles some of the more troublesome issues that you may get worried about, specifically problems that you may feel guilty for as a DM. He handles both sides of more controversial issues in a reasonable, well-adjusted manner.

I trust you’ll do fantastically.

Pixie x

Park Chanyeol//The Rhythm of Hate - Part 2

Originally posted by chanshine

Summary: You hate each other, even though you’re soulmates. You try and stay away from each other, but a shared course and a project is determined to keep you two facing off. (Part 1/Part 2)
Scenario: Soulmate!AU, college!AU
Word Count: 6,726

Keep reading

A Series of Unfortunate Events (For me)

Context: This was our second game of our campaign. I play an aasimar ranger, and we have a demonic bloodrager, two catfolk, a witch and alchemist(CA), a kitsune swashbuckler, and a sylph rouge. 

The incidents start while we are wandering through a forest, in order to reach a catfolk village and deliver an artifact. We notice we are going in circles. Turns out a fae is messing with us. The sylph decides to become friends, as both are skilled in trickery.

Fae: Hey, want to see a trick?

Sylph: TOTALLY!

DM: okay, Ranger, roll will save.

Me: *rolls low*… uh oh.

DM: You get turned into a squirrel

Me, ic/oc: *stream of cusses*

Eventually, we are lead by the fae to a tree who could point us in the direction we needed to go, but only if we clear out an ant nest underneath him. So, we get shrunken down in order to deal with the ants (I am back to normal). The sylph just so happens to have a ring that reacts to her emotions. It causes her to glow if she is angry.

Sylph: Hey, CA, make me angry, you seem good at it.

CA: HEY!

after getting her angry, so we could have light…

Me: Hey, i’m going to roll perception and scout ahead, as i have Dark Vision. *Nat 1*…

DM: You turn around, only to be blinded by the now glowing sylph.

Me: (ic) hey guys, i’m going to- OH GOD!

We immediately encounter some ants and a fight ensues. The bloodrager has a giant hammer.

B.R.: All right, i’m going to hit the ant closes to me *rolls low* and i miss.

DM: Roll again.

B.R.: *Rolls well* okay, now damage? *rolls*

DM: Okay, Ranger, you take 4 damage.

Me: Did you really just hit me in the face with a hammer?

It only gets worse…

  • Jack: Hey Shits, I was wondering if you could help me?
  • Shitty: Sure bro, what's up?
  • Jack: I'm planning on proposing to Bitty soon and practicing would help so could I practice on you?
  • Shitty: First of all, why didn't you tell me sooner that you were planning on proposing to Bitty, DO YOU KNOW HOW BIG AND FUCKING AMAZING THAT NEWS IS??
  • Jack: I was obviously going to-
  • Shitty: AND OF FUCKING COURSE YOU CAN PRACTICE ON ME! Let me just get into character.
  • Jack: Thanks, this means so much but really, all I need you to do is stand-
  • Shitty: *clears out his throat and bends his knees until he's about Bitty's height before speaking in a terrible Southern accent* Oh Jack, my darling.
  • Jack: ...Why are you like this?

I just really love this gif.

It look like Snafu’s going to put his arm around Eugene’s shoulder but then Eugene catches him mid arm-deployment. Snafu just laughs and is like ‘what? totally normal arm movement right here. I wasn’t gonna do shit. laugh it off, Snafu.’ and Eugene just looks really confused for a second like 'was he about to put his arm around me?’