observing the sounds of the world

Okay, guess I’ll make a serious post about this:

There’s a problem in audio drama/serial fiction podcasts with representation. (I don’t listen to nonfiction podcasts, so I cannot comment on those.) Obviously, a lot of kinds of media have representation problems, but popular audio dramas often get lauded for diversity, so. 

There’s a real disconnect between the kinds of people these stories are about and who gets to tell these stories. Podcasts like Welcome to Night Vale, The Adventure Zone, or The Strange Case of Starship Iris are highly praised for their well-written LGBT characters or characters of color. And yeah, they’re good! Their representation is sometimes even very meaningful and profound. I don’t want to dismiss that, especially all the great work that LGBT+ actors and actors of color have put into those kinds of shows. But they also tend to all have moments that bring me up short, make me go, “Oof, a straight white person definitely wrote this, didn’t they?” 

Even good and radical sentiments in these podcasts ring hollow when I remember that straight white writers are the ones gaining reputation and profit from the stories that aren’t theirs.

Creative control matters. There needs to be more diversity among podcast writers and directors. Representation in characters is great, but that isn’t a substitute for a genuinely critical point of view. Take Friends at the Table. It’s not perfect, but it really shines in a lot of ways. LGBT characters and relationships are consistently centered, which makes sense for a show where at least four of the contributors are gay or trans. The story is actively anti-colonialist–yeah, the GM is black. There have been lines that I’ve cried at because a person of color wrote them. Something very real and beautiful lives in the beats of stories made by and for people like me. 

So support creators of color. Support LGBT+ creators. For that matter, support disabled, non-Christian, poor, or any other kinds of marginalized creators, and especially support creators that are more than one of these things. Demand more from this medium that so many great things are made in. 

@podcasts-collected Signal boost?

Your life situation may be full of problems — most life situations are — but find out if you have any problem at this moment. Not tomorrow or in ten minutes, but now. Do you have a problem now?

When you are full of problems, there is no room for anything new to enter, no room for a solution. So whenever you can, make some room, create some space, so that you find the life underneath your life situation.

Use your senses fully. Be where you are. Look around. Just look, don’t interpret. See the light, shapes, colors, textures. Be aware of the silent presence of each thing. Be aware of the space that allows everything to be. Listen to the sounds; don’t judge them. Listen to the silence underneath the sounds. Touch something — anything —and feel and acknowledge its Being. Observe the rhythm of your breathing; feel the air flowing in and out, feel the life energy inside your body. Allow everything to be, within and without. Allow the “isness” of all things. Move deeply into the Now.

You are leaving behind the deadening world of mental abstraction, of time. You are getting out of the insane mind that is draining you of life energy, just as it is slowly poisoning and destroying the Earth. You are awakening out of the dream of time into the present.
—  Eckhart Tolle

@c2ndy2c1d jack and johnny watching a scary movie

YOU GOT IT BABE. I have this weird au headcanon that Jack went back to the past–but only to Johnny’s timeline, and he’s stuck there. So I ran with it. Sidenote that I know it’s canon that Johnny is “afraid of very little save for clowns” but for my purposes he get spooked by anything “scary”


There was a strange sense of exhaustion weighing heavily over Jack’s shoulders as he stepped through the threshold of his and Johnny’s small apartment. 

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Okay so @xxtorchxx did the thing, prompted by @bridgetteirish and @reginalovesemma. I’m just finishing what they started. M’lud.


Alex knows that a cupcake isn’t enough, not for Kara’s appetite or for the level of damage to her feelings. It had been tough to choke back revulsion long enough to pretend that the alien frat boy might be a viable option, but thankfully Kara had been talked off that ‘complicated’ subject pretty quickly. She’d all but chased Alex out of the door before midnight, unheard of for their late night gossip sessions.

Keep reading

The Two Types of Every Sign

Aries
a) You’re either THE loudest person in the room, constantly starting arguments and planning the next party
orrrr
b) You’re playing scrabble and silently or quietly passing shade on the people surrounding you, or you’re home happy to be the fuck away from people.

Taurus: a) You’re either the most caring loving devoted person, whose laughter sounds like sunlight
orrrrr
b) You’re a mean bitch who loves to gossip about literally every single person that existed.

Gemini: You’re either witty and intelligent, with sparkling charm that you bestow upon all your besotted admirers
orrrrrrrr
b) You’re a broody moody sad fuck who will stab you in the back to save themself or just because :))))

Leo: You’re either the most fun person in the room, with childlike wonderment about the world
orrrr
b) You’re a smug chill cheschire cat who got the cream and is eating it ;)

Virgo: You’re either sitting there quietly observing your surroudings only stopping to add occasional witty one liners
orrrrrrrrr
b) You’re the LIFE of the party, wait no; You ARE the party. Shots? You’re pouring them! Breaking and Entering into a locked basement party, you’re the mastermind. You’re a funny sign Virgo.

Libra: You’re either dressing all your friends up in your clothes and sharing all your makeup with them because you’re a kind generous soul, while also debating moral issues
orrrrr
You’re a snobby mean person whose nose is so upturned you may as well be Cindy Lou Who ;P

Scorpio: You’re either sitting there encouraging and chanting on the squad doing drugs and alcohol, talking about the world as if you’ve learnt every crevice and cranny
orrrr
You’re not saying a thing. You’re not even there. No one sees you, yet you see all.

Saggitarius: You’re either lighting up the bonfire and handing out smore sticks and playing the guitar for all your groupies
orr
You’re smashing literally every person at Cards against Humanity. Yes, you are the funniest person in the room. Don’t let it go to your head, oh wait. It already did.

Capricorn: You’re either the Mother Hen, helping drunk and disorderlies to bed, you ARE Nurse Joy; Everyone comes to you for advice. There is nothing you don’t have in your handbag.
orrr
You’re a cynical ass who is shade AF, the literal opposite from you’re other sort of capricorn, you need ALL the help. You’ll smash those pregame drinks and drugs early and spend the night being comforted as you lay in your own vomit :)))

Aquarius: You’re likely drawing the party, rolling creative joints and encouraging everyone to jump off the roof. You’re a wild child Aqua.
orrrrrrrr
You’re at home knitting. No inbetween.

Manifesting results in this life is a matter of our personal efforts and the complex circumstances of the world. 

We can put in perfect effort and still fail. We can put in little to no effort and still succeed. It isn’t perfect; it is simply the way of things. Usually it’s a mix of the two.

We have the right to put in our efforts to achieve anything we wish. But we do not have any right to certain results. This is just the way of things. Observe it and you will find it to be true. 

This is why “detachment” or “non-attachment” is taught. We should be detached from the results, non-forming of expectations. 

However, we should be very passionate and involved with our efforts. That is where our mental and emotional energies are best invested. Anything else is just the sound and the fury signifying nothing. 

In this way, we can live and work in this world while still maintaining our inner tranquility. Our passion and peace do not hinge on outcomes. 

Namaste

if Harry and Draco weren’t suddenly 100% opposed to each other, if they didn’t have complete opposite ideals, they would make an amazing pair.

Harry hates people fawning all over him, wants to be seen for who he is, not the Boy Who Lived, just Harry. And Draco does that. He SEES Harry in a way that few people do. Including his flaws. He never lets Harry take himself too seriously.

Draco is pessimistic and cynical. Harry is optimistic and shows Draco there is good in things, that he doesn’t need to worry about every single thing, that its ok to drop all the ice cold facades, the stiff and humorless visage. Its ok to show emotions, to talk about them. 

And Draco would force Harry to rethink his recklessness, the way he acts without thinking sometimes. 

They get each other. They bicker and fight obviously, they push each other to grow.  They have such different ways of looking at the world. 

They’ve always been on the edge around each other. It’s always been high emotions. They’ve watched each other from across the room for years, observing their habits, unable to NOT notice small things like favorite foods, nervous tics, the sound of laughter. 

I think they even each other out, darks and lights. Harry is so GOOD and so afraid to accept the parts of himself that might not be 100% perfect or pure. He’s got a hot temper, he’s sarcastic with an occasional dark humor, he’s stubborn and can be arrogant. Draco lets him be all those things. Hell, Draco LIKES all those things. 

And Malfoy who spent years doing nothing but wallowing in darkness, trying so hard to be like his father, to be cold and cruel. He wears his arrogance and bitterness like a second skin. But, there is an undeniable part of himself that grows all the time. This is the LIght, this is GOOD. He’s snarky, he’s an artist, he’s sociable, he’s charismatic, he’s afraid, he’s proud and brave in his own way, he can’t stand true violence, he’s eager to please. And Harry loves these things and lets Draco know its okay to be these things. 

They have passion, always will. They have heavy history and screaming fights. But, they also have quidditch and touch starved affection, they have cooking together, sharing movies and books and music, they have deep conversations and new perspectives, they have laughter and tears and comfort. They are two sides of the same coin, two seekers who seek each other, two scared boys who grew up to be men. And who are sometimes still scared, but they urge each other on. 

Unworthy - Part 2 - NewtXReader

Read part 1 again before reading part 2 so it makes sense :)

PART 1: here

Info: Coming to the realisation that you weren’t good enough anymore for Newt, you head back to the lonely apartment, were another confrontation takes place..

If you enjoy this please like and reblog, why not check out my masterlist or send in some requests? xx

Masterlist: here

——————————————————————-

“I-I..” newt nervously stuttered, completely unsure of what he was supposed to say. A deep blush hid his freckles, as his eyes grew wide with wonder and his full lips parted in shock. Newt anxiously hovered, time coming to standstill between the two of you. Fear that he had just misheard what you said prevented him from speaking. What if he simply imagined it?

Caught in the heat of the moment you had had finally confessed, worry washing over you as you waited for his reaction. The deadly silence hung in the air until from the corner of your eye a curvy figure approached behind Newt. Confidence radiating every step she took. Just as glamorous as before, before you stood the woman who had been attempting to flirt with Newt all night. Feeling more self conscious than ever, you shrunk back slightly, intimidated by her looks. Upon noticing your presence she shot daggers with her eyes at you, giving you clear signals to leave.

“Newt, are you not coming back inside?You’ll get a cold out here hun ” she seductively purred in his ear, her arm attempting to slither around his.

Newt froze to her touch, although his attention solely on you. He looked completely lost for words, an absolute nervous wreck. How he longed to tell you that he felt the same, but the words wouldn’t form.

You however felt the fool. Here you just blurted out the feelings you’ve felt for Newt, all while he’s in the arms of another woman?

You knew when you weren’t wanted..

Picking yourself off the ground you dashed towards the streets, completely ignoring Newt’s protests. A proud smirk hung on the glamorous woman’s face in victory, now she had him all to herself.

Newt however ripped himself from her death grip, attempting to follow you, but it was too late. Unfortunately you weren’t as simple to track as one of his beasts, no clues left of your sense of direction. You were already gone.

“Bugger”, Newt mumbled under his breath, as he helplessly thought were you had disappeared to.

Ignoring the sinking feeling in your stomach you made your way down the empty street, not daring to glance back for fear of being confronted. Upon arriving at your apartment you dashed into the room completely forgetting to lock the door again. You couldn’t care less, the embarrassment consuming you.

The only relief you got was the satisfaction of removing the painful heels that had been cutting you all night. Although you detested them, you wanted to make a special effort to look beautiful for Newt. Guess that didn’t matter anymore..

Changed into cosy pyjamas, with a mug of warm coco, you sat on the large window frame. Huddled in a heap of cotton blankets staring into the night sky, you willed yourself to forget.

In that moment, the flash of calmness protected you from the pain. Regret washed over like the long slow waves on a shallow beach, each ripple icy cold and sending shivers down your spine. How you longed to go back and take a different path, but now that was impossible. There was no way back, you let your feelings slip. There was no way to make it right.

Staring into the darkness of the night, you softly cried. In the distance you heard light footsteps approaching closer. Lifting your tear filled eyes, your blurry gaze meets the frame of a timid looking Newt, who is completely avoiding eye contact.

“I figured I’d find you here. You always make yourself coco when your upset…” Newt playfully whispered though you saw through his empty smile, his attempt at lightening the mood failing miserably.

“Y/N-” he began.

“Newt forget I even said a word tonight”

Newt remained silent for a period of time, before steadily making his way to the window sill where you lay. He sat down on the other side of the window, however your eyes were trained on the night sky, praying you could just be left alone.

“Did you really mean everything you said tonight” Newt’s tone changed this time sounding more broken.

“Yes” you simply replied, longing to avoid going into detail.

“Even the part-”, Newt shyly avoided being specific.

“Everything” you cut him off.

“What about the ‘not having enough time part’?” He shyly questioned.

Silence.

“So it’s true….” Newt sadly mumbled under his breath. Guilt washed over his features at the acceptance of his flaws. Over the past few weeks he could barely recall a time he had spent with you, that had nothing to do with the publishing of the book. He’d been selfish with your time.

“I only exsist when you need something Newt…what happened to everything we said we’d do together? As soon as that book became finished, so did the adventure” you truthfully confessed, “Is it even about the creatures in your case anymore?” Your whispered softly. Newt had made you feel unworthy of him anymore, as though his success had made you of less value. That a bond you had once deemed unbreakable was simply a thing of the past.

Newt turned to face you, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. His eyes narrowed, rigid, cold, hard. Anger flustered across Newt’s face, an expression which was a very uncommon sight to see, “how- how could you even ask that? Writing this journal had nothing to do with fame and deep down you know that. You and my creatures are my top priorities in my life”.

“Newt there’s other girls out there.. ones as beautiful as the ones you saw at the party” You softly whispered, feelings of heartbreak coming to the surface, as you came to the realisation you weren’t good enough anymore. Too sad to cry out or wail, you just sat there as still as a statue.

“You make a valid point. In fact there’s 7 billion people in the world Y/N….yet your the only one who matters”. Newt directly locked his eyes with you, something he’d normally be to shy to do. Reflected in his pupils you saw that every word was the truth, looking at you like you were the only person he could see. A small lob-sided grin crept on his lips as his face held a sincere look to it.

“I’m sorry I-I know-w that I’ve been a bit of a mess since the p-publishing of the book and a mess is the last thing you need right now… but this mess in love with you".

Moving closer towards you his large but gentle hand, softly caressed your face, wiping the last tear away. Your eyes widened slightly as Newt rested his forehead lightly against your own, his auburn mop of curls blocking your view slightly and his shaky warm breath against your skin . Leaning closer he pressed a gentle kiss on your lips feeling a sense of fufillment. Although his touch wasn’t fiery, it made you feel safe and protected, reminding you of home. Curling up in his musclar arms, both of you peacefully observed the outside world through the window. The pitter patter of rain sounding from the roof.

It was then you decided that you were worthy of Newt. That you were worthy for each other and success couldn’t change that.

The fame that came from his book hadn’t changed Newt, it just amplified who he really was.

Just a man who was hopelessly in love with you.

Originally posted by bohemianromance123

Got7 appreciation post

Mark Tuan

reasons to stan this cute lil muffin:

  1. He’s pretty fucking insane at acrobats, okay.
  2. He raps out the side of his mouth, and if that’s not the hottest thing eVER, you’re invited to leave. 
  3. He probably gives the warmest and best hugs ever. Mark is so fluffy and sweet and loveable no one touch me 
  4. His laugh is so c u te goodbye
  5. He’s the quiet one, so there’s sure to be a lot of secret observing and I am just so into the concept of quiet wallflower Mark, tbh.  
  6. Also this happened: 


Im Jaebum

reasons to stan my sweet soft baby boy

  1. He’s a softie. Feeds stray cats in his downtime even if they scratch him.
  2. He is a precious little pancake who loves being onstage and being praised. 
  3. He’s an only child but he loves the members like they’re his brothers. 
  4. He’s kinda really fucking hot
  5. Chic and sexy
  6. soundS LIKE AN ANGEL
  7. also he is the mOST boyfriend-looking mf in the world. look at this shit

b y e 

Jackson Wang

reasons to stan the epitome of boyfriend goals

  1. He loves his family so much omfg (posterboy for Momma’s Boys R Us tbh)
  2. He is a literal angel, I’m pretty fucking positive. 
  3. He’s the comic relief for my boys and I will forever be indebted to him for keeping them happy.
  4. His laugh and that smile, someone put me in a cage 
  5. He knows, like, five different languages
  6. He does this adorable thing where he runs away from pretty girls okay do not touch me 
  7. Wang Puppy. 
  8. He’s also hot af goodbye


Park Jinyoung

reasons to stan the bean

  1. He’s an A+ actor
  2. His English has improved so much since their debut and I am so glad to say that I got to hear it in person and I am so goddamn proud
  3. He’s like a real-life sour patch kid– sour on the outside (savage, actually, lol) and secretly a big softie on the inside 
  4. Have you seen his performances lately because hot damn
  5. He literally has the voice of an angel tbh
  6. Park Gae is my life, alright?
  7. He, too, is fine asf.


Choi Youngjae

reasons to stan my lil otter

  1. He is literal sunshine incarnate. It’s impossible to be sad when you look at him. 
  2. Coco’s mom 
  3. 300-time thickest calves award winner
  4. Makes everyone their smiley best <3
  5. He sounds like Fergie and Jesus had a baby, that gorgeous voice ugh
  6. That blonde glow-up though
  7. He’s hot af too don’t touch me

holy shit rip

Bambam

reasons to stan the love of my life

  1. Do you see that smile on his face omfg what a cutie pie???
  2. Dab boi
  3. Sweeter than frickin’ candy
  4. Designer hoe boyfriend
  5. Yugbam
  6. Chelsbam (ship it)
  7. It is literally impossible to be sad in his presence okay it’s like he’s the sun and I’m the earth
  8. His accent is so cute I fucking die okay
  9. He’s so hot, man.

ultimate bias af

Kim Yugyeom

reasons to stan the evil maknae who ruins my life

  1. He can freestyle the fuck out of some dance moves
  2. Hit the Stage. B y e 
  3. Cutest smile in the entire world oh sweet lord
  4. Sweetest baby in the universe
  5. Got excited over ordering a hotdog in English (thank u based naver app + Hard Carry)
  6. My pure sweet boy
  7. I cried when he came out onstage bc he really is the most pure human being I have ever come into contact with, my little muffin
  8. Silver Yugyeom is my religion
  9. also hot af


stan talent, my friends. 

disclaimer: none of these images are mine. 

Missing Person Part 2 (Jughead)

Summary: Part two of a Jughead series I’m writing.

Word count: 1781

Requested? No

Warnings: Torture, drug use, implied panic attack

Prompts: None

A/n: None

Part 1


 Often when growing up teens feel alone and scared, specifically regarding the future. But at this moment nothing could compare to the fear and dread you was now exhibiting. You tried to distract yourself from the unfortunate scenario but the dulling drugs forced you to stay dormant and only think about the thoughts you couldn’t avoid, Jughead. Not a bad deal I guess.

Your arms recoiled in ache as your legs vibrated, shaking from the cold and terror. This shaking was the full extent of your movement as your arms were bound and your leg was painfully clamped to a chain of some sort, you couldn’t look around due to the coverage around your eyes. So instead, it was your mind that did the wandering. You clung onto the idea that one day soon you would see your friends, friend again. Your father too. You could only imagine how he’d be holding up, with the PTSD and all. These thoughts were more painful than then the whips and beatings you endured, you froze and sweat, fell unconscious and felt your eyes stinging from fatigue, and you hoped and wished for death.

A creaking door echoed thought the cabin, you could only assume it was a cabin. Fearfully, you tried in vain to shuffle back as far as you could as if it would prevent the literal torture. Your hysteria was only answered by a sickly ‘shhh.’ It was calm and unfazed as if nothing about the situation made them uncomfortable. That silencing response was the first thing you had heard out of the hooded devil’s mouth, if they spoke maybe you could tell who they were. It was as if identifying them would make any of this easier.

“Why?” You whimpered as tears spilled over. Not ‘why me?” or ‘why now?’ or ‘what do you want?’ Just ‘why?’ Once again you were answered with drumming silence, it was driving you insane. “SAY SOMETHING!” You screamed, or you would have if you could have.


*Jughead*

The clicking and clacking of a keyboard echoed through Pop’s. The, luckily for him, twenty-four hour diner was practically empty short of a few couples getting a midnight milkshake. It was just them and the woeful writer. His eyes scanned over his monitor double checking the words critiquing them as he did. He was sure to have every word perfect, every one fitting into a place. It was this compulsive certainty that distracted him from current events. In his mind, if he uncovered layers of Jason Blossom’s murder, he could solve your disappearance. Anyone who knew you two knew how close you were and how much you needed each other.

Jughead knew that he was no detective but he was losing sleep and he had to do something, anything.


You woke up once again to the only sight you had seen for three days, darkness. Only this time something was different, you were more coherent as the drugs began to wear off, you noticed the sound of light breathing, had you still been drugged you would have thought it was you but what scared you was the lack of feeling alone. You were suddenly aware of the lack of restraints, you could move your arms, they cramped as they did but it still felt like freedom despite having your leg still painfully immobilized. Contrasting the joy of having the gift of consciousness, you were also completely aware of all the pain you had been experiencing, that alone was enough to still you. Regardless, you slowly raised your hand to remove the blindfold that was tightly secured around your head. Once it had fallen down to your neck you slowly opened your eyes only to jump back and scream when met directly with the covered face of your punisher. Once the scream left your lips they were met roughly with a hand shutting you up which led you to believe that you were near a possible rescue. Even after your scream was silenced the hand was not removed, instead, the face came closer. Their visible eyes burned a memory into your head. Uncontrollably, you sobbed wanting to close your eyes and never see those shadowed irises ever again. On the other hand however this was the only chance you had at identifying this monster. If only they backed up into the minuscule of dim light, maybe you could see something helpful about their features, likely not. In case you’re hopeful, they didn’t, instead they pressed forward pushing you back making you shuffle away, closer to the wall from your place on the floor. You thought back to your psychology class, what you were experiencing was traumatic shock, a state in which the victim is abused or manipulated to a point where they are so terrified that they are immobile in the presence of the abuser, this state is common in sleep paralysis. But this wasn’t a dream, it was real and so was the hand lifting and extending your right arm. Far too distracted by the possibility of death you didn’t even notice the elastic band being wrapped around your arm until it began to cut the circulation of blood. It made you sick that they didn’t even need the drugs to keep you under their control. However, when a familiar syringe was revealed you shivered. Like a light switch you were in hysterics, flailing and fighting, holding back screams in fear of that monster placing their hands on her again. Your arm was still stretched out, you assumed it would be roofie but as you’d soon discover it was an abandoned addiction, an old ‘habit’ that died hard, or hardly died.

“NO! Nononononono! Please!” You screeched, your begging was ignored. “Please! I’ve been clean for-“ Your please were interrupted by unsteady breathing, you were in complete panic as the needle’s tip touched your skin.

A breathy squeak escaped your lips as the tip pierced your skin, it was humiliatingly pathetic. When the liquid reached your veins you felt a short burst of euphoria, though you’d forever deny it. That was all, a small ripple before a wave of denial and a tsunami of shame. You resisted the urge to show any signs of enjoyment, instead you shut your eyes as every part of your body cringed.


*Jughead*

Jughead lay in bed, eyed closed searching for sleep but finding nothing but terrifying thoughts of your whereabouts. Every thought more disturbing than the last. ‘Alive? Not? Okay? Not? Hurt? Not? Did she run away? Had she abandoned him?’

Later in the night sleep took over giving him nightmares, only for him to wake with the same thoughts.


*Sheriff Keller*

By duty of the law and common decency Sheriff Keller searched for any evidence of the missing teen hoping to find nothing. In his mind the only outcomes were to either find nothing meaning she had skipped town and was safe and sound or he finds a body, cold and rotting. You see, Jason Blossom was killed five-six days after his last sighting and it was only logical to apply the same rules here. Today was day five. To his great surprise, he found neither. Instead he found a camera. He bent down and acquired it after slipping his hands into latex gloves. It was old and had a notebook belonging to (Your full name) and a waterproof pouch attached to it containing multiple pictures, some of Sweet Water River, the forest, the town, there was even one of the Blossom twins in pure white riding in a red car. On closer inspection it was clear that the camera was broken, the closest thing he had to a lead, the only evidence, was a broken camera. Aggravated with what this meant the Sheriff stood and stalked away a few paces to radio in his findings.

“Yeah, it’s me. Look I may have found something relating to the (Your full name) case.”

“Sir, that’s not a case.”

“It is now.”


For the whole day and the on following, there were search parties looking for a missing girl, ones that Jughead signed up for the second it was announced. But that night the real sorrow came when the department sent all the civilians home and it was just a federal search, a search for a body not a person. It was that night however, when the real relief came.


 Night had fallen and the Sheriff had lost all hope. Minutes before he was about to give up and turn away Sheriff Keller let his eyes scan over Sweet Water River in sadness. It was quite calm at this time of night, or at least it should have been. Near the shore there was a violent disturbance. Immediately Sheriff Keller sprinted down to the distress. Upon seeing a struggling body being held under the water he instantly calls it in, “I need an ambulance! I found the kid! Alive!” Or at least she would be if he could get to her in time. In his detailed observation it was clear that the figure holding the victim down was cloaked and anonymous. They bolted upon hearing his booming voice, but not before pushing the distressed teen in further.


Suddenly the pressure left your head and back but the water was still filling your throat like relief soon would. You didn’t scream out of fear of a quicker death, you couldn’t help it when a hand reattached to your shoulder. Strong hands yanked you onto the shore. You fought and coughed violently as your vision clouded, the world still sounded like it was underwater. Eventually you had no choice but to stop fighting to recover by coughing up the contents of your lungs. Tears welled up in your eyes from the pain of the week prior, mental, physical and emotional.

“Y/n?” A husky voice asked when your coughing ceased and the only sounds were your sobs and the flowing of Sweet Water Creek. Upon hearing your name you knew it wasn’t your silent attacker but instead the voice of the Sheriff, the harsh voice of authority that turned soft the moment you told him you were lost on your fourth grade school excursion to the police station or the time he broke the news to you about your mother. It was a voice you trusted and a man you could lean on like a father figure, which is exactly what you did. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder before sliding off his jacket and wrapping it around you. Your sobs echoed through the woods accompanying the sweet ‘shhh’ from the Sheriff. You could only hope the monster you escaped from chocked on your safety.


Tag List:

@i-love-thetragicallybeautiful @x-error

saturnt  asked:

Hi! I really admire your art. I'm 19 and have been drawing all my life but not seriously. I found out about schools like yours and feel terrible that i've missed the chance to study there - I don't speak french and live in australia. But I want to create brilliant art & animated films like you do at gobelins. my skills just aren't good and I don't have any resources. I'm not sure whether I should think that I can improve my technical skills to catch up with yours, or give up. do you have advice?

Hi you!

Schools are great to feel motivated, surrounded by people loving the same things and learning with inspiring teachers teaching you everything you wish to be able to do. You can meet people who will propose you amazing work later and you will earn a lot of money $$$ and be successful.

But this is what happen in the perfect school in the perfect world. And you know, there is no perfect school and no perfect world!

Even if Gobelins is a really nice school, I feel not completly satisfyed. Sometimes I feel like I’m missing things that I would like to learn. Sometimes I feel that some exercices make me lose time more than make me improve my skills and so on! (And it’s sooo expensive!!)

Fortunatly, here is the great news : You can learn everything by YOURSELF, with the amazing help of the INTERNET. There are so many talented self -taugh artists! I know it sound surrestimated but I can assure you, you can improve so much by learning  with online courses (Schoolism, No film school, every frame a painting, online tutorials, coursera…), by practicing from your own, being inspired from people all over the world, getting feedbacks from people on forums…

Don’t be affraid to ask critics, practice, observe a lot, go draw outside, go to gesture drawing classes, throw all your drawings away and start everyting again, several times, that’s how everybody start!

Don’t compare you to other people, it ’s the best way to feel bad, inspire you from them! Look at what the other people can do and think : “Such great things can be done, I can do it too, with patience and practice!”

And as somebody -I don’t remember the name- would say : “Believe in your infinite potential. Your only limitations are those you set upon yourself.”

Never give up <3

Comfort (Jonathan Byers x Reader)

Originally posted by lopezvalentina2

Request:  Hello, darling!! Could you pls do a x reader where the girl gets trapped in that tree like Nancy and they go to the girl’s house for a sleeping and Jonathan tries to comfort her and they end confessing their feelings and making out so hard?? Idk if this make any sense. Anyway, thank you!  - Anon

Okay so the beginning of this one SUCKS so I recommend skipping down to the part where the reader comes out of the tree

F/C: Favorite color


On your search for finding Will Byers, you and his older brother Jonathan (whom you had school with) were walking home after practicing both of your shooting skills.  You had wandered off into the woods when you thought you heard something out of the ordinary.  That assumption led you to a large tree with a trunk that was covered with a weird, slimy substance.  Being the naturally curious person you were, you got down on your hands and knees and started to climb through.

Behind you you could hear Jonathan calling your name and wondering where you were, but you were lost in your own world as you climbed through the tree.  Once you were fully inside, you stood up and observed your surroundings.

This was odd.  It looked exactly like where you had come from… only… colder.  You didn’t hear a sound.  No birds in the trees, no squirrels rusting around, nothing.  You cautiously began walking around wherever it is you had just wandered into.  You turned a corner, and what you saw before you caused you to freeze in your tracks.

It was some sort of humanoid monster.  It had no hair, no visible ears, and when you looked a bit closer… no face.  The thing was tearing apart and eating a deer.  Your heart was racing, but you didn’t dare run, for fear it would hear you and try to kill you.

You slowly took a step back.  Unfortunately, your foot landed on a twig and snapped it in two.  You froze.  The monster immediately stopped eating and shot it’s head up in your direction.  In was ten times more terrifying face-to-face.

The creature let out a growl and lunged at you.  Choosing flight over fight, you screamed in fear in hopes someone (especially Jonathan) would hear, and bolted as fast as you could back to the tree where you entered.

Only, you soon realized you had forgotten exactly which tree that was.

After all, you were in the woods.  Just then, you heard something off in the distance.

“Y/N!”

Jonathan, you thought.

You pressed your back against a large tree and stayed as silent as you possibly could.  You could hear the creature’s low growls and the leaves crunching under its feet from somewhere behind you.

Far off to your left, you saw the tree.  You didn’t really have much of a choice.  You sucked in a deep breath and sprinted towards it, not daring to look behind you.  The monster emitted a piercing roar and chased after you.  

“JONATHAN!” you screamed.

“Y/N!  I’m right here!”

The monster was right on your tail.  You reached the tree and speedily ducked down and began climbing through it.  You were so close to escaping, but suddenly the creature latched onto your foot.

“JONATHAN!” you repeated and managed to stick a hand out of the tree.

You felt Jonathan clasp onto your wrist and begin to pull.  You tried kicking the creature off your foot.  Jonathan pulled harder and stronger and pulled you out of the tree last-minute.  You immediately latched onto him and he did the same to you (Even though you were covered in that weird slimy stuff.  He was extremely relieved you were okay).

After five minutes of Jonathan holding you and trying to soothe your shaky breaths, you meekly asked him if we would come home and stay the night with you.

“Of course I will,” he answered.

You two walked hand-in-hand to your house.  Once you got home, the first thing you did was lead Jonathan to your bedroom and then take shower. (Your parents were off on a trip and had no clue that Will Byers was missing).  It felt good to get all that slimy stuff off of you.

Once you had finished your shower and changed clothes, you walked into your room to see Jonathan sitting on the floor fiddling with his fingers.  He looked up as soon as he heard you open the door.

“Oh–uh–hi…,” Jonathan said softly.

“Hi… you know you don’t have to sit on the floor, right?” you said laughing, trying to lighten the mood.  You sat on your F/C bed and patted the spot next to you.

Jonathan nodded and stood up, sitting down next to you.  Both of you stayed silent for about thirty seconds.  You were both still processing exactly what had happened back in the woods.

Suddenly, you felt Jonathan slowly lay a hand on top of yours where it was resting in your lap.  “Are you okay?” he asked you.

You sighed.  “I will be.  What I saw… it gave me some clues as to where Will might be,” you answered quietly and flipped your hand over to interlock your fingers with Jonathan’s.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head and shuddered at the thought of the monster ripping you apart limb by limb in its massive jaw.  “Not today…”

Jonathan nodded understandingly.  “Okay.  Do you want to try and get some sleep?”

“Yes.  That would be nice.  Thank you, Jonathan.  For agreeing to stay with me,” you said and lay your head on his shoulder.

Jonathan wasn’t used to being touched like this before by a girl.  But it felt… nice.  “O-f course.”

Aw, he was shy.  You picked up on that pretty quickly.  “You’re really cute when you’re shy, you know that?”  Jonathan turned beet red and turned his glance down to where he was holding your hand.  You leaned over and quickly pecked a kiss to his cheek.  Jonathan still said nothing.  “Come on, talk to me,” you said softly.

Jonathan finally looked up and met your gaze.  Out of nowhere, he boldly said, “I think you’re really hot.”  Jonathan wasted no time in locking your lips together in a lust-filled kiss.

You responded immediately, bringing your hands up to run your fingers through his fluffy hair while his hands roamed your waist.  Jonathan glided his tongue over your bottom lip asking for entrance which you gladly granted.  His tongue roamed your mouth freely, tasting every bit of you.

You both pulled away breathless.  “Wow.”  That was all you could say.

“That was amazing,” Jonathan replied.

“It was.  Would you… be my boyfriend?” you asked hopefully.

Jonathan showed a smile full of pure happiness.  “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear those three words.”

“Sooo is that a yes?”

“Absolutely.”

“Good.”  You leaned in a pressed a quick kiss to his lips.  “Now let’s try and get some sleep.”

You flopped down on your bed and burrowed under the covers.  Your new boyfriend followed suite.  You slung an arm around Jonathan’s torso.  (You didn’t want to cuddle up to him completely, ya know, since you literally just became his girlfriend three minutes ago).

Jonathan liked this.  He’d never felt someone hold him so he knew he was safe before.

Eventually you both fell asleep peacefully; no nightmares.  You woke up the next morning feeling something warm pressed against you.  You looked over and saw Jonathan, he must have moved during the night.  He looked so peaceful when he slept.  His breath was slow and even and his hair flopped over his face.  

“Morning sleepyhead,” you said softly.

“Morning…,” Jonathan groaned tiredly.

“When you’re awake, come downstairs.  I hear you’re a very good cook.”


Please let me know what you thought of it and what I could do better next time!

Drabble

Draco knew it.

He first knew it when Potter was sitting with him during Potions in their eighth year. He could smell him, he could see the way his hands shook whenever he would work on a potions lab.

Seeing Harry Potter in all of his magical glory was really what helped Draco realize it.

“Draco,” Potter grinned one morning as soon as Draco sat next to him in Potions, “goodmorning.”

This confused Draco to no end. First off, since when were they on a first-name-basis? Secondly, he couldn’t understand how it could possibly be a goodmorning for him, considering he had to sit next to Potter and listen to his nonsense for an hour.

The portrait of his godfather explained the potion they would be brewing today, Pepper-Up Potion. Draco quickly sent Potter off to retrieve the ingredients from the cupboard at the back of the room, while he prepared the cauldron and the tools they would be using.

It was common knowledge that Harry Potter was not an excelling student in Potions, but Draco couldn’t understand why it took him five minutes to fetch the ingredients. He impatiently strolled to the cupboard to see what was holding him up.

As soon as he entered the cramped cupboard, he ran into the back of the one-and-only Harry Potter. He was having a hushed conversation with Theodore Nott. Once his presence was known, the talking ceased, and Potter grinned at him.

“Why, Draco,” he began, “fancy seeing you here.”

“Yes, fancy seeing me in my own class,” Draco rolled his eyes, “I came here to fetch the ingredients that you obviously couldn’t.”

He began to collect what he needed, only to notice that Nott had left. He required the “eyelashes of Hippogriff” which was on the highest shelf. Draco wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he wasn’t particularly tall. He strained his one hand up, only to feel the pressure of hands lifting him up.

This was not a position Draco Malfoy wanted to be in, at the time, but he took the opportunity and grabbed the jar anyway.

Once he was on his feet again, he nodded at Potter who had rosy-tint to his cheeks, but was smiling nonetheless. Leaving the cupboard, he tried not to look baffled even as everyone (including Dumbledore who “coincidentally” entered Snape’s portrait at the time) looked at the duo as if expecting something.

As they arrived at their seats, Draco watched as Harry began chopping up a basil leaf. He saw his hair sticking to his face from the heat of the cauldron, and his glasses fogging up. Oh, Merlin. Draco knew it then.

>>

Once he knew, he figured that the whole school was most likely in on the secret. Except for, newly-appointed, Headmaster McGonagall, actually. He figured this when he was inside of her office (which still smelled like Dumbledore, for the record).

“No, Mr. Malfoy. I will not change your rooming arrangements. We must enforce house-unity, and what better way to get through to the younger wizards than to place the eighth years in mixed-house dorms?”

Draco though of several different methods, perhaps even eliminating houses all together. He knew to keep his mouth closed, though, because the look in the woman’s eyes showed that she would not be convinced otherwise.

The wrinkles surrounding her eyes also showed that she was way past her expiration date, and he constantly wondered how she managed to avoid death. If I was death, Draco thought, I wouldn’t mess with Minerva McGonagall, either.

“I understand that, Headmaster, but Weasley constantly sneaks into the room in the middle of the night, no doubt from Granger’s room.” They ignored the chuckle Dumbledore let out from his portrait above them.

“I don’t see how a room-change will prevent that from happening.” She sighed these words out.

“It doesn’t matter to me if it stops, I just don’t want to deal with it.”

“Mr. Malfoy, I can’t ju-”

“No, no, I think the boy is right,” Dumbledore spoke gruffly from his portrait. You could hear the smile in his voice, “Perhaps, we should switch Mr. Weasley with Mr. Potter?”

Draco Malfoy couldn’t deny that he liked where this was going. What he didn’t understand was how Dumbledore caught on to his feelings for the messy-haired boy so quickly. Draco made a decision to hide his feelings better, because if old men in portraits could figure them out, he was sure Potter could.

“Now, why would we do that, Dumbledore?”

Minerva McGonagall was practically competing with Harry Potter to win the title of ‘Most Oblivious Person in Hogwarts’.

The sound of Dumbledore sighing was heard in the room, and Draco couldn’t help but agree with the man.

“Well, I’ll be going now. Perhaps I could get a few hours of sleep before Weasley comes into our room, only to leave again with Granger.” Draco spoke as he rose from his seat to leave the room.

With McGonagall’s complete lack of knowledge towards Draco Malfoy’s feelings for Potter, he assumed that maybe the school didn’t know. Maybe it was only Dumbledore. That thought alone made him feel a bit at ease.

>>

Until the next day.

He was strolling down to the Great Hall that morning, only to be yanked into a corridor. Pansy Parkinson and Hermione Granger looked at him expectantly, as though he was the one that pulled them into a corridor.

“What?” He questioned impatiently. If their little chat was going to happen at this rate, he would miss the fried tomatoes.

“We think that you should stop acting oblivious, and just be with Harry.” Granger rushed out as Pansy nodded alongside her.

“I’m the oblivious one?” Draco said incredulously.

“Oh, you have to forgive Harry,” Granger waved his comment off with a flick of her hand, “he doesn’t get things sometimes.”

“I’ll have you know, I am completely fine with pining after Potter. Leave me alone.” These were words that Draco never thought he would ever say in his life. His father was writhing in his grave.

Draco now figured that, yeah, the whole school was probably aware of his problem. You would think that maybe someone would actually help him solve it, but he continued to talk to Parkinson and Granger about how this was all his fault for not taking action and winning Harry over.

The thing is, Draco isn’t a man of action.

>>

So people knew, that is, except for Potter (and maybe McGonagall, as she tended to watch them closely nowadays, as though they would break out into a fight at any moment). Which was quite a nuisance really, because now here he was in the library. The Boy Who Lived was his only companion, completing a Transfiguration Essay, and he was burning with want.

Over the past few weeks, Potter had weaseled (no pun intended) into Draco’s everyday life. They played chess, went to Hogsmeade, and ate together. Draco was in no position to complain, but everyday he found that he craved Potter more and more.

The library was silent, except for the quiet sound of Dumbledore trying to make his breathing inconspicuous. All he smelled was musty, magical books and the boy next to him. He seriously wondered how a boy capable of defeating the most powerful dark wizard in the world could be so absolutely oblivious.

Now, for the record, Draco Malfoy was not an observant person, himself. He had only realized his true feelings for the Golden Boy a few weeks ago. Whereas, the majority of the school population had figured it out during their sixth year (according to Seamus Finnigan who explained that he and Nott have a bet going on how long it will take for Draco to cave into Harry. The bet has been running for over two years.). Draco didn’t understand how he could have gone for so long without thinking about Potter that way.

Harry Potter, however, was a different level of obliviousness than Draco had ever had the displeasure of encountering in his life. It was a wonder that the boy realized there was a nose-less man after him in the first place.

“What are you reading?” Potter turned to him and pushed his glasses up.

Draco simply turned his book to show Potter the cover.

“You know, you don’t have to stay with me while I finish my essay.” Potter smiled at him.

“Well, I can’t leave you alone, now can I?” Draco rolled his eyes.

“You could.”

“Don’t be daft.”

Potter casually toyed with a piece of Draco’s hair, and even though his face was set in a frown, it secretly drove him mad.

He and Potter continued to share light conversation. They covered news concerning Quidditch, their N.E.W.T.s, and the other eighth years. Draco found talking with Potter was quite easy. Their conversations drove late into the night, and Draco was still not fulfilled. Eventually, Harry decided he ought to complete his essay, and Draco finish his book.

Draco had yet to figure out what got him in this dilemma. He had half-a-mind to pin it on McGonagall and her attempts at enforcing “house unity” between the eighth years. If he had stayed with his fellow Slytherins in their chambers, he would have never noticed the way Potter’s hair flopped into his eyes. He would’ve been too busy restoring the Malfoy name to care about Potter’s matured voice. He definitely wouldn’t have noticed the way the boy’s eyes gleamed with determination as tried to complete a potion. He would’ve never realized what he’d known all along. Damn it, Minerva.

As Draco pondered over the absurdity of his situation, a light snoring from his side shook him out of his thoughts. Potter had fallen asleep on his parchment and the ink on his quill was beginning to drip. He looked so vulnerable and delicate lying there. The light pink of his cheeks, accompanied by the gentle rise-and-fall of his lungs shook something inside of Draco.

Draco thought quick about what one of Potter’s friends would do. Making a natural decision, he gently shook Potter’s sleeping form.

“Potter,” his shaking only resulted in Potter crinkling his nose and then recommencing his snoring, “wake up.”

Draco sighed and felt a bit bad for trying to awaken the boy. He had been working so hard recently. It was no surprise he was exhausted. So, Draco carefully scooped the boy up in his arms. Throughout the past year, Draco had grown slightly taller than Potter, whilst keeping his lanky form. He silently enchanted their equipment to follow them as he begun to walk to the Eighth Year Common Room. There weren’t a large amount of returners, and they couldn’t simply sleep with the underclassmen. McGonagall decided to place them all in the same quarters. This was also another attempt to promote the idea of house-unity to the younger wizards.

Draco tried to walk without running into any bumps. He narrowly avoided any disruptions that may wake Potter from his slumber. He would occasionally check to see if their possessed possessions were still trailing behind him.

Upon reaching the portrait of Sir William Arthur that hid their common room, Draco quickly mumbled the password. He tried to act as though he didn’t see the knowing look the man gave him as he entered.

Potter’s room assignment had been with Blaise Zabini, some Hufflepuff boy, and Neville Longbottom. Draco was sure they were asleep, but had no problem waking them up.

He knocked at their dormitory door, until a very frazzled-looking Blaise Zabini opened the door.

“I believe this belongs in your room.” Draco said gesturing to the boy in his arms.

Zabini rolled his eyes and moved to let Draco enter the room. It smelled like pine and there was only one untouched bed in the corner. He carefully set Potter on the bed, perhaps standing to look at him a bit too long.

“Goodnight.”

He was met with a grunt from Zabini as the door shut behind him. Draco found his way back to his room with the Weasel, Finnigan, and Nott. There wasn’t even a shift in the room when he entered. Draco laid in his bed and thought about what mode of action he should take.

However, Draco wasn’t a man of action.

He knew this, and he doubted he ever would be. He fell asleep that night already accepting his Potterless future.

>>

The next morning, he went down to the Great Hall only to notice Potter. He only ever thought of Potter these days. Today was the day that the ceiling had begun to snow and everyone was planning their plans for the break. Potter, however, sat and ate his fried tomatoes glumly. Draco didn’t understand why though, it was no secret that the boy would typically accompany the Weasel to his Weasel home.

He decided to take a seat next to the gloomy boy.

“It’s a wonder you were given the name "the Golden Boy,” Draco began, catching his attention, “what with your depressed persona.”

He watched as Potter laughed, and ignored how good it made him feel to bring joy to the boy next to him. Damn it, Potter.

“I wouldn’t be so "depressed” if you would have told me.“ Potter now sat with his chin is his hands facing Draco. Draco resisted the urge to straighten his glasses which were slightly crooked.

Once the words left Potter’s mouth, Draco didn’t know what he should do. He didn’t know how to respond to this situation. He looked at his nearby eighth years, and saw Neville Longbottom giving him a nervous thumbs-up. Pansy tried to hide her grin as she drank her pumpkin juice. Damn it.

"I didn’t think you wanted that,” Draco tried to speak as clearly as he could, given the heart-shattering circumstances.

“I think I know what I want better than you do,” the boy gave Draco a grin as his words sunk in.

“It’s not my fault you were completely oblivious to my advances.” Draco let a smile through. He ignored the way that the corner of Hermione’s mouth quirked up at his words.

Advances? Draco, you won’t even touch my skin! Last night was the closest we’ve ever been, and I was asleep.” Potter threw his hands up and grinned.

“Well, I’m gentleman, and I have yet to even properly court you.” his eyes twinkled as he said this, and Potter’s cheeks were rosy with life.

Potter bit his lip before he spoke. Draco tried not to let his eyes focus on the action, or the way that Dumbledore inconspicuously wandered into the portrait behind them.

“You’re going to court me?”

Draco was suddenly a man of action.

Damn, Gryffindors.

“Yes.”

“I don’t think your dad will be too happy with this news.” Potter chuckled and danced his hand closer to Draco.

“Well, he’s not the one doing the courting.” Draco gingerly played with the boy’s fingers.

“I should hope not.”

This was the second time Draco knew it. He knew he was in love. Potter did, too.

So did Dumbledore.

anonymous asked:

Do you ever feel like there's a conflict with modern science and polytheism? Like that it's impossible to hold a polytheistic belief system in light of our knowledge of the world?

Nah, science and religion are simply two different languages used to explain the same phenomenon. The Ancient Hellenes believed in science themselves, observing and measuring the world around them and attempting to make sense of our place in the universe. This hasn’t changed. Matters of the physical universe and the spiritual universe do not necessarily conflict with one another, unless you let them.

For example, I believe that the gods created the universe, via the Big Bang, that resulted in the formation of every structure, every star, every planet that has ever existed. Our world formed out of a messy cloud of atoms that was pulled together by nuclear forces, electromagnetism, and gravity. Sounds an awful lot like the primordial deity Khaos from which the earth (Gaia) eventually sprang. I see no problem with overlaying the two narratives, especially as a scientist myself.

To quote the netflix show Sense8: “Science does not preclude my faith. For me, science is another language we use to talk about the same miracles faith talks about.”

Every year has been hard, but this year has been the hardest. I have gotten worse. Reality has become nothing but a question to me. I have come to the point where everything in sight has been in observation. I study the leaves and how they move with the wind. I study the passing cars going to their destination.  I study the sound the crickets make and think about how they have a completely different life than us humans. I study everything and wonder if anything studies me. Times like these I feel odd. I feel distant. Everything is a blur. I feel the world all around me. I am nearly a tiny person in this vast universe. I look up at the stars and wonder what life is out there. I wonder if life is even at all. Everything is confusing. I do not understand anything.
—  I took a walk and wrote as I observed life around me
Haunted Places in Romania (according to Wikipedia)

Argeș County

Trivale Forest in Pitești - There is a legend about a maiden, daughter of a rich landowner, who loved a poor servant of her father. Her father found an old rich man for her to marry, but during the wedding day, she ran with the servant in the forest. Her father found them and killed her lover and then decapitated her. It is generally accepted that the two scary things about the forest are: the decapitated ghost of the bride and the people going into the forest to do satanic rituals.

Bacău County

Zarifopol Mansion in Filipești – Called by locals “the House of Evil”, the mansion is the site of several reports of paranormal activities: indistinct voices, bizarre sounds, steps, cold currents that “walk” through walls.

Bucharest

Bazilescu Park – Also known as Nicolae Bălcescu Park, Bazilescu Park is located in Bucureștii Noi neighborhood. Within the park is the Summer Theatre, built in 1953. During the night, in the area can be heard strident sounds and the cough of a man (whereof it is said that belongs to Bazilescu), coming from beyond the columns of the derelict theatre.

Central Girls School – Inside this historical building and its courtyard have been reports of strange sounds, cold breeze and fetid odors, but were also seen levitating objects, doors and windows that open and close without any human intervention.

Chiajna Monastery – This ruined monastery has its root somewhere in the 18th century, during the rule of Alexandru Ipsilanti. It was a big monastery, with thick walls, reason for that the Turks “confused” it and assaulted it. Moreover, some historical sources show that between its walls died of plague the Metropolitan of Wallachia, Cozma. The land and the building have never got to be sanctified. For these reasons it was abandoned, and the monastery’s bell was thrown in the Dâmbovița River, people blaming it cursed and leaving it in ruins.According to locals, the bell can still be heard ringing on full moon nights, many audio records proving this fact. Moreover, it is said that on one of the walls near the entrance can be glimpsed the face of a beautiful lady, which is said to be Ancuța, the daughter of Mrs. Chiajna, who would have been killed on the orders of her mother after she ran with her beloved without her mother’s approval. On top of that, in the area would have been several murders and numerous mysterious disappearances.

Cișmigiu Hotel – The building was closed in 1970 and reopened in 1990, when it was converted into hostel for students of the Faculty of Theatre and Film. Legend says that in a weekend, when all the students were away on vacation, a young woman from Moldova was raped and then thrown into the elevator shaft. She died there, after three hours she desperately cried for help, with no one to hear her. Many say that her screams can still be heard.

Hospital of the Posts – Previously housed in the building behind the Stavropoleos Church, Hospital of the Posts was a site of organ trafficking. It is said that, especially in long winter nights, can be heard on adjacent streets groans and cries of those who died in hospital beds.

“House of the Devil” on General Praporgescu Street – The house, which now looks degraded, is distinguished by the ivy that covers it entirely. It is the site of two tragic events: in the interwar period, a man would have killed here two women, and within a few years, a young woman would have committed suicide.Some say that on full moon nights on one of the walls of the house can be seen the number 666, symbol of the devil, and here would live a demonic entity full of hate and anger, that can be felt from afar.

Orphanage on the French Street – Legend says the house, located at number 13, is haunted by no less than 203 children’s spirits. In this orphanage were brought homeless children, even by its owner – Stavrache Hagi-Orman. He kept the kids in unimaginable conditions, without water and without food. After dozens of children died of starvation, the orphanage was closed. Locals reported voices of children crying “Water, we want water!”.

Vernescu House on the Victory Avenue – It is named by locals “Cellar of the Devil” (Romanian: Hruba lui Scaraoțchi). Here still operate a casino. It is said that in the past century, several players committed suicide inside the house after they lost the entire fortunes at roulette. Reports indicate three ghosts that haunt the house. They shake the furniture, cause air currents and sometimes even appear on the hallways of the building. Passers also reported strong odor of sulfur in the building’s yard.

Witches’ Pond – According to the legend, the pond located in Boldu-Crețeasca Forest, having a diameter of only 5 m, is the place where Vlad the Impaler was beheaded. It is said that after the 1977 earthquake many trucks unloaded debris in the pond, with the aim of stoppering it. Within weeks, the debris disappeared in its waters, although the pond has a depth of only one meter and a half. Locals say that many times when pregnant women didn’t want the child went to the pond, bathed and ridded the pregnancy. Even the animals would be scared of this place: there would be no frog or any being that lives in the pond, and the animals don’t drink water from there. The pond is famous for the gipsy witches that gather each year to Sânziene, St. George and St. Andrew to practice their magic rituals. Near this eye of water have been observed over time strange phenomena, like globular lightnings or storms started suddenly. The pond never change, doesn’t dry, doesn’t expand, whether it rains or is drought. In a video from mid-90s is shown a strange phenomenon: in midsummer, on an area of some square meters it snowed, immediately after a woman from the stunt team was terribly amused while trying to put a helmet on the head of a mannequin that portrayed Vlad the Impaler.

Călărași County

Călugăreasca Forest – It is a forest of mulberry trees, where it is said that the wind never blows. Here, people say that existed a monastery of monks, but they were killed by the Turks, and the place was made one with the earth by the pagans. The last monk killed by the Turkish army threw a curse upon them. So that, after death, the spirits of those who have defiled hands with the blood of the monks returned in thickets of Călugăreasca, from where they never found the way out.At the edge of the forest are also a lot of crosses, which legend says that stand sentry as the pagans’ spirits can not escape. People are reluctant to seek the thickets of Călugăreasca due to the curses, and the only safe place in the woods was the large white cross that reminds about the monastery and that protects those who pray next to it when the night catches them in the grove.

Cluj County

Bánffy Castle in Bonțida – Dubbed “the Versailles of Transylvania”, the castle is reportedly haunted by the ghost of a young servant who paid with his life because he revealed that his mistress deceived her husband. Another variant is that the place is haunted by the ghosts of those who died in Bánffy during the Second World War, when the castle was converted by Germans into a military hospital. Legend says that there were often seen sinister shadows that seemed to be of some soldiers, while through walls were heard strange noises, groans, sounds of footsteps or indistinct voices.

Hoia Forest – The forest near Cluj-Napoca has long been known for the mysterious events that take place here and was even cataloged as a gateway to another dimension. Dubbed “the Bermuda Triangle of Transylvania”, the forest is one of the most active areas of the world in terms of paranormal phenomena. Legends would have occurred, it seems, after a shepherd disappeared into the forest along with his 200 sheep and no one managed to find neither he nor any part of the flock. It was only the first mysterious disappearance that took place in the forest. People who accidentally pass right through active areas report skin burns, redness, irritations, headaches, amplified sensation of thirst, anxiety, sensation of fainting. Hoia Forest became famous in the world after on 18 August 1968, military technician Emil Barnea photographed in the Round Glade (Romanian: Poiana Rotundă) an UFO, the photos being among the few of this kind genuine, according to experts. Numerous accounts of villagers reported unexplained physical sensations, observations of various shapes and colors lights, strange shadows, voices and human faces. The local vegetation is often bizarre. The trees have strange shapes, even human faces can be depicted from their trunks. In 2000, Alexandru Pătruț, President of the Romanian Society of Parapsychology, caught a strange phenomenon in the forest, around the Easter: a kind of sap flowed profusely from the top of the trees. Next day, everything was dry. He also reported strange sounds of ambulance sirens, tire exploding and even cuckoo clock. The forest was included in top 15 most haunted places in the world by the American magazine Travel+Leisure.

Constanța County

Tomis Nord neighbourhood from Constanța Supposedly, the neighbourhood is haunted by a woman who was decapitated by her husband who believed that he was cheated on.

Dâmbovița County

Bride’s Trinity on DN7 – On national road DN7, near the town of Găești, there is a monument called Bride’s Trinity or Margareta’s Trinity. Here it is said that on 24 September 1936, Margareta Ștefănescu died in a car accident, even on her wedding day, and since then the place has become cursed.  In the area have occurred a lot of fatal crashes, even if the road is straight and with maximum visibility. The road was “baptized” by locals “the Road of Crosses”. In the road tragedies are involved especially men. For example, only in 2008–09 in that place 12 young men died, mostly unmarried. Likewise, there were several reports of a silhouette of a woman dressed in white near the trinity.

Dolj County

Radovan Forest – Dozens of people, especially men, have drowned over time in Lake Fântânele of Radovan. Locals put numerous tragedies on account of the curse of a bride, who legend says that in the 1940s hanged herself in the forest surrounding the lake. Her story has two versions: one, according to that a young Moldovan woman arrived in Oltenia with her family, would have committed suicide after her husband was beaten to death on the night of the wedding; the second version says that she has committed suicide after, even before the wedding, would have been raped by a kulak that employed her. Locals say the bride haunts the road near the forest, and the passers are advised to move quickly and try to simply overlook any sound or appearance, otherwise the bride will lead them in the heart of the forest, from where they won’t ever return.

Bulzești commune Villagers talk about the “creatures by the hill”. A long time ago, the village was moved because of the strigoi. According to a villager:“The evil spirits haunt us at both day and night. Nobody dares to go up the hill because of the vampires. A neighbour has paralyzed many years ago when he bumped into one of the evil spirits. He couldn’t find his peace and does bad things to all those around him” The Romanian poet Marin Sorescu, born in the commune, mentioned the legend in his poem “Dumneata”: One night, here, by the fountains,| Where homes are rare, due to the ghosts |Who they say have showed around |And the people were strained to put houses there, for the ghosts to have their place.(…)

Iași County

House of Gavril Buzatu on Manta Roșie – In this house from Iași lived Gavril Buzatu, “the last executioner of Moldova”. The house was the site of several killings and atrocities. It is reportedly haunted by strigoi about people think would be the thieves beheaded by Gavril Buzatu. During the night can be heard howls of beast or human, followed by roars of laughter. Here can be seen strange lights that “run” through the mansion, especially during the winter. A former tenant reported a black creature running through the nearby forest. Likewise, were seen flames lighting up suddenly in the abandoned salons.

Lungani Hill – It is said that the hill that separates the villages of Goești and Brăești is haunted by thousands of ghosts of soldiers from the World War I. Locals reported white lights, silhouettes of soldiers descending from the cemetery into the valley, at night, late after 12 o'clock. On the other side of the hill, in the commune of Lungani, peasants saw headless people who went on the road or even the devil in the body of child or cat.

Maramureș County

E58 near Cicârlău – The area is known by drivers as one where many accidents happen. The accidents are attributed to a ghost which is said that comes out from the crops and scares the drivers. In the 1930s, a young woman named Pălăguța, envied by women for her beauty, was accused of witchcraft and beaten to death. Old people speak about a kind of animal with very long legs which haunted the village in Tuesday nights. It is said that appeared after midnight and went to houses where women violated the church rule. Women would have been hit in the temple and died or remained paralyzed.

Prahova County

Iulia Hasdeu Castle in Câmpina – Bizarre by its architecture, Iulia Hasdeu Castle was built by writer Bogdan Petriceicu Hasdeu in the memory of Iulia Hasdeu, his daughter, who died at age 19. It is said that the castle was built in accordance with the indications received during some seances, from his dead daughter. Locals say that during the night, Iulia Hasdeu can be heard playing the piano, in father’s applause.

Don’t Take Them Away From Me

Newt Scamander x Muggle!Reader

Summary: The reader is a muggle in England, and a No-Maj in America. What happens when the reader goes along with Newt to New York? What will happen when MUCUSA finds out that Newt and you have a relationship, and that you know about magic. What will happen when they take away his creatures and you, and you have something to tell him.

 A/N: This is an imagine to commemorate the new movie ‘Fantastic Beasts And Where To Find Them’. And because I am a big fan of the Harry Potter franchise so I am excited to be writing this. I have had to change some of the story line to fit the reader into this.

 Italics = Flashbacks

 Warnings: Possible Angst, some feels and fluff. Newt almost crying and doing so. None other than I can think of, so that’s it. But some possible mentions of sex, or Newt being sexually interment. Mentions of anxiety.

Originally posted by hardyness

Originally posted by dailyfantasticbeastsgifs

Originally posted by chatnoirs-baton

You had known Newt from the start of his book. You had met him in a coffee shop, in 1920. You could see that he was in the corner scribbling down on his note pad with his pen like the world was about to end, from the serving counter. You had decided sit next to him and start up some conversation with the soon-to-be-author.

 “Do you mind if I take a seat here, please?” You asked looking at the red/brown haired man looking down at his papers. He lifts his head and sees your (Y/E/C) eyes looking at him, and a small smile on your lips. He immediately became nervous when he saw you, and started stuttering.

You could see his face more clearly when he looked up. He had countless reckless that were scattered on his face. You could see his mix between green and golden eyes. You instantly fell in love with the man in front of you.

 “Y-y-yes y-you, um, c-can. I-if you want to.” He said in the best way he could, considering that to him, you were gorgeous; and you were standing right in front of him.

You pulled the seat out from under the table, and place your coat around the back of the chair.

“My name is Newton Artemis Fido Scamander. But you can just call me Newt.” He managed to say without stuttering, or making a fool out of himself.

“My name is (Y/F/N), but you can call me (Y/N).” You smiled, taking a sip from your cup of tea.

 That was the first time you had heard him speak, and it was the moment that you became friends. You then started seeing each other and then started working with him on his book. You can still remember the first time that he asked you out on a date.

 “(Y/N), I would very much like to ask you something.” He asked as you turned around to him. You were both on the streets of Trafalgar Square in London. You were having lunch on the side of one of the fountains. You looked at him straight in the eye, seeing that he was nervous. “I would like to ask if you would like to accompany me on a date?” You just stared at him, trying to get your answer out, with a mouthful of food. “You see I very much like you, and it’s okay if you don’t like me back or anything. I just wanted to see if I had a chance with you.” He was literally holding his breath when he was saying this.

 You had finished your mouthful of food, and replied with your answer.

“Yes Newt I would love to go with you to dinner. I have liked you since the day that I sat next to you in the coffee shop.” You placed your hand on his cheek, and the heat of his cheek warmed up your hand. You also started to lean forward and placed you lips on his. It was your first kiss together. You could feel his breath get caught in his throat and then it being expelled through his nose. You both pulled away from each other, because you both needed to breath.

 Your first date that night was the most magical night that you had ever had. Later in the relationship, Newt revealed his biggest secret to you. One that has been bugging him since your date in Hyde Park.

 “(Y/N). I have been meaning to tell you something. Since our date in Hyde park.” You were both in your shared flat when he had decided to ask you. You both had been dating for the matter of two years, and you had always wondered why he kept in an old batted suitcase, that was never put away. Newt said that it must be out always, in case there was an emergency. “I must show you now, otherwise I won’t be able to say it all.”

 You looked at him, confused. You had told each other everything. He took the case out from under the dining room table. He clicked both latches that were on the case and open the case. He placed one foot in the case and then the other, climbing down the ladder that led him to his creatures, but you couldn’t see the ladder. You couldn’t believe that your boyfriend could fir his 6-foot self in a tiny case. He continued to climb down the ladder and onto the case, you just stood there in shock. Then his hand came up and beckoned you to follow him into the case.

 As you made your way down the ladder you were taken back by the sight. You could see multiple habitats with strange creatures in then. They were beautiful and they were flying around, stomping and doing what you assumed what they normally did.

You saw Newt standing near a desert like habitat area. You saw that he was looking at something in the area, so you decide to see what he was looking at. You made your way over to where Newt was and saw him petting a gryphon-like creature with six wings and two long tails with feathers on the end.

 “This is Frank, he’s a thunderbird,” your eyes landed on the small creature, and saw him hiss and growl at you.” You may want to step back. He doesn’t take kindly to strangers. He was trafficked, you see. I found him in Egypt; he was all chained up and I couldn’t leave him there, he was so young. One day I wish to return him to the winds of Arizona.” You stared in awe at the beast.

Frank could tell that there was something going on between the two of you, and started stalking his way cautiously towards you. Once he reached you, and sniffed you to see if you were dangerous, like the people that took him. When he confirmed that you weren’t a threat to him, he snuggled into your stomach. Newt stood beside you, eyeing Frank to see if he was going to attack you, but instead he was admiring you and Frank together. That’s when he learned that if a muggle could cooperate with magical creatures, then wizards and witches could.

 “Newt, how is this all possible?” You asked, petting Frank just as Newt did earlier.

 “That’s the thing that I’ve been wanting to tell you. I’m a wizard.” He exclaimed as he took his wand out of his pocket to show you. You looked at him as if he were mad. To prove you wrong, Newt cast a spell and made some roses appear in his hands which he then gave to you.

 “Well I have no evidence that say that you aren’t a wizard.” You replied, giving him a kiss.

 

You just couldn’t see the box in his pocket. That was the point where Newt decided that he was going to write his book, and you weren’t going to let him do it alone. But he had to ask you something a year later after that day. You had been helping Newt take care of the creatures, and they have taken a liking to you since you were Newt’s girlfriend. They recognized you as their care taker also, making them want to be around you, even more than Newt.

 You were both feeding the creatures inside of Newt case. You had both saved a branch of Bowtruckles. They were found in a cage in Glasgow. You both decided to keep them and take care of them as well. A certain bowtruckle, that was named Pickett, he had attachment issues to both Newt and yourself. He was with you always, or if not Newt. You had both tried to get him to connect and be with the rest of his branch, but he insisted on stayed with you two. The other bowtruckles were accusing you both of favoritism.

 But now you were feeding the branch woodlice. It was how wizards could extract wand wood from the trees that they would be protecting. When you heard a tiny squeak from behind you. You looked down to see Pickett holding a ring in his tiny, spider leg like fingers, which creeped you out at times. You then looked up to see Newt running towards you and the branch of bowtruckles.

 He scooped up Pickett in his hands, taking the ring from him while doing so, and then turning back to you, with panicked expression on his face.

“You saw the ring, didn’t you?” You nodded eying him. He sighed placing Pickett on his shoulder and then telling him that they’ll talk about what he did later.

“Well, I was planning to do this later, when I could actually do it. But Pickett, thought that it would push me forward into doing it if he broke the ice. So, before I run away out of pure fear of doing this, and before the niffler gets this.. (Y/F/N), will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

 You got down on your knees, so that you were eye level with him and placed your lips on his. Expelling all the passion which you held for that man in front of you. Newt got the message and placed the ring on your left hand and kissed you again, wrapping his arms around you; hugging you after the kiss. You both had happy tears running down your faces. Without noticing that the creatures had made their way toward you both and making a circle around you both. When you both pulled away from each other, and when they saw the ring on your finger. They had an outburst of roars, growls and other sounds of happiness, and congratulated you both.

 Since a year after that, you both got married, and since then, you both went around the world, observing creatures and writing about their habits for young wizards to see and read about. You have both decided that you were to go to America, to study new creatures that would be native to the land. But to also release Frank into the wild desert of Arizona, like Newt has always wanted.  You both made your way to the docks and you both arrived in New York.

 You had met some lovely people. You met a muggle like you, Jacob Kowalski, and two witches called Tina and Queenie Goldstein. They were a bit chocked that you and Newt were married, because of   the American muggle rule. All ‘no-majs’, as they called muggles, aren’t allowed to have any relationships with magical beings and they’re not allowed to marry them, they’re not allowed to know anything about the wizarding world. And if any muggle did, they would have to be obliviated, and you didn’t want to forget about Newt or the creatures that you have come to love.

 But unfortunately, Newt’s case was opened and you had to collect all the creature and put them back in the case. You were just in central park, trying to catch an Erumpent that had gotten out of the case. Later you were planning on catching the other creatures. But right now, you were in the case. With Newt and Jacob in the case. Which was being carried by Tina to MUCUSA, to show the wizarding world what Newt had been doing. You felt the whole case shake. Newt was the first to emerge out of the case. He was in front of the New York Ministry of Magic. Then it was Jacob who made his way out of the case.

 You were the last one to come out of the case. You stood in what seemed like the main discussion room. There were wizards and witches that were looking at you three with shock and yet curiosity.

 “Scamander?”  Yours and Newt’s head turned toward the British Envoy.

 “Oh-er- hello.” Newt introduced himself while closing the case.

 “Theseus Scamander? The war hero?” Monolu Wotorson asked.

 “No, his little brother. And what in the name of Merlin are you doing in New York?” The British Envoy replied and then turning his attention to the both of you.

 “Miss Goldstein, who is this?” Madam Picquery asked the witch.

 “This is Mister Kowalski, Madam President. A no-maj who was bitten by one of Mister Scamander’s magical creature.” Tina answered, truthfully. All Ministers started to whisper to each other “No-maj? Obliviated?”

 “Wait, why did that no-maj turn her mead towards you as well? Is she a squib, or a no-maj from off the street like Mr Kowalski over here?” Asked Percival Graves to Madam Picquery. All the attention was then turned to you. More whispers began to break out amongst the court.

 “NO!” Newt shouted, earning the attention of the Ministers. “She is a muggle, or a no-maj here. But she is also my wife and she knows about all of this. She knows about the creatures and what they can do.” The Ministers were taken aback about by his outburst. Newt began to realize what he did and moved next you, wrapping an arm around your waist protectively.

 “Well, you are in America. And we handle things a little differently around here. We are sorry that the British Minister cannot do anything, for he is in a different country. So, we must obliviate your wife and your friend. You have no say in this because you risked the expositions of the wizarding world, and you shall be trailed for this. Arrest them!” Madam Picquery announced.

 “No-no- don’t hurt those creatures. Please they aren’t dangerous. It was an obscurus, please don’t hurt them.” Newt tried to reason with the Ministers and Madam Picquery.

“And take the no-majs to a different cell.” Madam Picquery declared to the officers. You and Newt looked at each other, reaching out for each other and embracing the other in your arms.

 “it’s okay, it’s going to be okay. I will find you, they will never be able to keep you away from me.” Newt was whispering to you, trying to calm you down. You were terrible with separation, you were in eqypt when you two were first apart as a couple. You ended up having a panic attack, but Newt did save you and knew then you have separation anxiety. “You aren’t going to be taken away fro- “You cut him off before he could finish his sentence.

 “I’m pregnant. You announced to him. Newt became silence when you said this. He pulled away and stared into your eyes, seeing if you were lying. He broke out into a smile and hugged you as hard as he could. You were both so involved with each other that you didn’t notice the officers coming towards you.

 “No, no, no. Please don’t take my wife or creatures away from me. Please, don’t take them away from he!” The cuffs were on both of your wrists and on Newt’s as well. You both tried to fight against the officers to get back to the others arm. You noticed that Newt had tears coming out of his eyes. Your energy was kept keeping calm, but tears were streaming down your cheeks as well. But you were both taken away from each other and lead to different sides of the hall that lead to the cells.

 You were placed in a cell with Jacob. It was small and there was a bench next to one of the bar walls. You missed Newt, but at least you had a friend, so your anxiety was kept at bay. You sat down on the bench with a huff, and placed your head in your hands.

 “Don’t worry. We’ll get out of here. Newt and Tina will come around and save us. And if not Queenie probably will.” Jacob tried to comfort you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. You were trying to see the positive side to this, but you couldn’t see anything that would remotely be positive in this situation. You leaned back against the bars and placed a hand on your stomach and just stared at the ceiling. Jacob picked up on why your hand was on your stomach. “Oh my god! Would they still oblita- something you if they knew about it.”

 You just replied with a shrugged of your shoulders. “I don’t know. Newt doesn’t work in the ministry, and no case like this has been said in wizarding history, per Newt.”

 You both heard footsteps coming down the hall way. You looked up to see Newt and Tina coming down the hall way with their hands cuffed behind their back. They both notice you and Jacob as well. They fought against the executioners and managed to get to the bars before their arms were taken ahold of and pulled away from you. You and Jacob tried to hold onto Newt and Tina so they could stay a little longer. They were both screaming out in protect as they were lead down the hall. You went back to the bench and sat down. Again, placing your hand on your stomach and looking down at your belly.

 You were three months along and you were showing. In most cases, women didn’t start showing until they were four months along. You just assumed that because Newt was a wizard, it was moving along a little fast that it usual would.

 At that moment Queenie dropped the coffee she was holding and searched for the source of the thoughts that she was hearing. She went down some stairs and saw that you and Jacob were in a cell, and were to be obliviated. She saw that you had your hand on your stomach, she also picked up on the fact that you were pregnant. That and she also read your mind to see how you were holding up.

“Oh my goodness honey, You pregnant! And with tw-twins!” she announced. You were shocked. You didn’t understand how she knew that, but you just went with it. She then cast a spell to get you both out of here.

 You guys saved Newt and Tina in the end, and got out of the ministry by all going into Newt’s case. You guys apparated to the apartment when you guys were safe.

 Newt made his way over to you and wrapped his arms around. So carefully, because he thought that he would somehow hurt your babies.

 “I told you that I would get you and the creatures back.” He told you with a smile on your face. Obviously, he didn’t know about the twins. You both pulled away from one another to see Tina, Queenie and Jacob staring at you with huge smiles on their faces. Especially Queenie.

 “We’re smiling because we’re happy that you guys are back together.” You had almost forgot that she could read minds. You were still wondering how she could tell that you were pregnant with twins. “I know because I could hear their hearts beatings. And Newt, (Y/N) is pregnant with twins.”

 Newt looked at you, with pure joy and happiness in his eyes. Hearing that the woman he loved was carrying his children. He whispered in your ear, as he hugged you again. “If one of them id a boy, we’re calling him Pickett.” He smiled, with his head on the side of yours.

You both couldn’t ask for anything else. You were with each other, and you would have two possible witches or wizards, or both, running around in a few months.

Tags:@newtscamanderimagines @newtscamstein @newt-scamagines @eddiexredmayne @newtafidoscamander @newtscamanderxyou @fantasticbeasts @fantasticbeastsimagines @fantasticallyimaginedbeasts @fantasticnifflerimagines @harrypotterimagines7 @harrypotterimagine @harryimagines-blog @newt-scamagines @newt-scamander-imagine

On Lorde, Green Light and how I refound my love for pop music

I’m in love with Lorde’s new single. I’m in love with Lorde herself, really. To me, she’s an immensely strong wave of fresh air bursting through the pop genre. A genre that, if we’re honest, we all adore, but are too afraid to admit. We call Britney’s Toxic a guilty pleasure, but really, do we actually feel guilty? No. We know it’s an anthem, it’s a legendary song and we all love it and we all know it. 

But somewhere around age 13, when the hormones started kicking in and we wanted to impress the boys in 9th grade, we felt the pressure to be different. Different from other girls, because girls are superficial creatures obsessed with fake things like makeup and Lady GaGa. We weren’t allowed to like pop music, because it wasn’t real music. And so we all went through a post-punk or emo or grunge phase, because those bands had men in them, and men made real music about deep stuff - not to discredit that phase, the bands I listened to around age 14 shaped me in ways I will never forget. 

And then we were shamed for that too - because we didn’t like that music for the music, we were just in love with the singer with the incredibly sharp jawline or the bassist with the huge arms. Personally, I felt like I wasn’t allowed to just be passionate about music, because my passion would never seem real to the scrawny, penis-bearing, acne-struck creatures that were always a little too loud in class. 

Then I heard a song on the radio. It was definitely pop music, but it was different, the kind of different I’d been looking for since I found out my taste in things wasn’t good enough. Through Royals, I found out that pop music wasn’t a defined genre, it didn’t have to be “fake” or “superficial”, it was something able to engage with other genres and create something new. And it could be about real things - it didn’t have to be about trashing hotelrooms, diamond watches and jet planes. Rowan Blanchard put it into words perfectly last week: it was when I realized pop music could be poetry too. There’s always the Art Bros telling girls that pop music isn’t real, but Lorde’s music made us feel like this was for us. It was made for us to enjoy and not be shamed for. 

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a good place to start | inspired by this post (”…just??? isabelle lightwood not having to know exactly who she is and what she wants, being allowed to be unsure and taking time to figure herself out, because she tries so hard to be everything for everyone but herself and it seems unlikely to me that she’d just hit puberty and immediately come out with full confidence about her sexuality.”)


It started with a girl without a name, or at least, Isabelle had never learned it.

Izzy was 17 and she had just finished a patrol with her brothers. She convinced them to go with her to a club, Jace agreed because he wanted to go, and Alec would never leave them unprotected. (“We can take care of ourselves, Alec.” “I know, I’m still staying.”)

Jace was off flirting with some girl, Alec was standing at the bar, and Izzy was dancing on her own in the crowd when she made eye contact with a girl wearing a little black dress, her hair wild, her make up smudged, but her eyes shined and her smile lit up her entire presence. The girl smiled at Izzy and Izzy smiled back, suddenly feeling nervous, almost shy.

The girl walked towards her, confident and beautiful, and just as she reached Izzy, the song switched to something even more upbeat and the girl smiled wider and began to dance in front of Izzy, with Izzy. At some point the girl’s hands found their way to Izzy’s hips and Izzy placed her hands on the girl’s shoulders. She doesn’t know how many songs stopped and started as they danced; it felt like an entire separate world was created within their arms. Which was why Izzy was so startled when another girl appeared beside them, tapping the girl Izzy was dancing with on the shoulder and pointing to the exit.

The girl nodded and turned to Izzy, gave her a small smile before kissing her cheek and walking away. 

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Does this make sense? | 04 (m)

pairing: min yoongi x reader, college! yoongi

genre/warnings: some type of fluff I guess, smut, drama, angst

words: 10,257

summary: you meet the mysterious Yoongi at a house party and no matter how uninterested you tell yourself that you are, you can’t say no to him. Can you end up changing his playboy ways, or will you just end up getting hurt?

» playlist | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | + | ✓

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