one day they will b able to come out

Okay so

A few days ago @beep-beep-trashmouth mentioned that the Stranger Things season 2 trailer could drop during the Tony awards, seeing that a) the teaser trailer was dropped during the Superbowl, a notable event rather than any average day and b) the time frame would make sense seeing that they’re almost finished filming and then with a little time to edit, they should be able to come up with a trailer.

Of course it’s just a speculation but I for one am holding on to the hope

And also

The Tony Awards happen on June 11th

Which just so happens to be my birthday

I would literally die if it were to come out on my birthday like my body would straight up melt into a puddle of tears of joy and angst and emotions all in one ugh it’d be a mess

FIFA and Chill?

Anonymous requested: Can you do an imagine where he and your brother play soccer together and their close friends? He confesses that he likes you at the last game at half time and they end up winning? Can you do like fluff too? Thank you!

“God, (Y/N), wake up!”  

Your brother’s screeching, accompanied by a pillow hitting your face, was how you were woken up. Groggily, you rolled over to check the time. 

“(B/N)!! Why the hell did you wake me up at 6:00 on a Saturday morning?” You sat up hesitantly and rubbed at your eyes, doing everything in your power to not strangle the menace you call your brother. He was casually tying his soccer cleats at the end of your bed.

“C’mon you know it’s our last game of the season. I need a ride.” You rolled your eyes at him and laid back down, covering your head with the pillow to drown out his complaints. “You can walk. I’m not your damn chauffeur.” You grumbled as he poked your sides.

“(Y/N) you have to!! I can’t walk there in 10 minutes.” When you didn’t respond he lifted the pillow up your face. “… (C/N) will be there…” At this you peeked one eye open to look at your brother. Spurred on, he continued. “Yeah, (C/N) gets there real early to warm up. He’ll probably already be shirtless by the time we get there. Glistening with sweat -” You shove him over, blushing furiously, and get out of bed.

“Is it really that obvious?” You question as you pull on a longsleeve and toe on your shoes.

“To me, yeah. But I have the added luxury of hearing your calls to (F/N). ‘Omg you won’t believe it, he LOOKED at me today!’ I doubt it’s obvious to anyone else.” You rolled your eyes at his impression of you, but were relieved that no one else knew. 

As much as you and (B/N) teased one another, you guys shared an unbreakable bond. There wasn’t that large of an age gap by any means and he was fiercely protective over you. He was one of your best friends, but you’d never admit that to anyone but yourself.

“What time should I come back to get you?” You questioned as the car rolled to a stop.

“What? No! Stay! Please, watch me play.” (B/N) looked over to you with a pouty face. You cocked an eyebrow at him, he’s never asked you to stay for one of his games before. “It’s the last one of the season and mom and dad won’t be able to come, it’ll me a lot to me if you stay to watch me play.”

You sighed and turned off the car, stepping out. Your brother shot you a smile as he ran to the field. You staked out a spot in the stands knowing this was gonna be a full day of soccer. A little more than half of the team was already on the field doing warm ups, including your brother. You lazily glanced around in search of (C/N) but came up empty. You were disappointed, truly believing he would be here by now. 

After sitting on your phone for a minute or two, you felt the effects of the morning chill. Shivering, you jogged back to the car hoping you had a stray hoodie laying around. You searched every square inch of your car but couldn’t find anything to bring you warmth. Sighing, you came to terms with the fact you would just freeze to death by the second half of the game.

“Hey (Y/N).” A familiar voice said from directly behind you. You spun around and came face to face to the one and only (C/N). He was standing close to you, both of you sandwiched between parked cars. He could probably hear your heart thump thumping in your chest. He was grinning at you as he leaned lazily against his car.

“Oh, hey (C/N). Why’d you get here so late?” You asked, feigning calmness. He cocked an eyebrow at you.

“Oh, you’re keeping track of when I clock in now is that it?” You laughed and blushed, looking down at the ground. He hadn’t put on his cleats yet and his beat up converse had doodles all over them. “I think a better question is why’d you get here so early?” 

At this you glanced back up at him. “I drove (B/N). You know how much of a lazy ass he is.” This made (C/N) chuckle lowly. He was good friends with (B/N), often hanging out with him outside of practice. 

“Oh, so you’re leaving?” (C/N) asked and you could have sworn that you detected a hint of disappointment. Not wanting to get your hopes up you dismissed it as wishful thinking.

“No, no. (B/N) asked me to watch the game today, actually. I was just looking for a jacket or something. It’s a bit chilly.” And almost as if on cue, a gust of wind blew your hair around and caused you to shiver. “Couldn’t find anything but it’s alright, I’ll just cuddle with the coaches to conserve body heat.” You joked lightly.

Instead of laughing (C/N) just screwed his eyebrows together, deep in thought. Abruptly he walked to the backseat of his car and threw the door open. Somewhat puzzled, you just stood off to the side with your arms crossed, trying not to let your teeth chatter. “Here.” He finally emerged holding a huge sweatshirt, his last name emblazoned across the back. 

“No, (C/N) you really don’t have to. I’ll be fine.” But you couldn’t help but shiver, showing how blatantly lying you were. He grinned at you and insisted, even pulling it over your head for you. When you stuck your arms through the sleeves you glanced down. The sweatshirt came to just above your knee and the sleeves went well past your hands. It was so comfortable you felt as if you were made to wear his sweatshirts. When you looked up to (C/N) he seemed to be blushing himself.

“You look better in my clothes than I do.” He said with a wink before running off to join his team on the field. You stood there for a moment or two, just letting everything sink in. Unable to keep the smile off of your face, you returned to the stands. When you looked up, (C/N) was waving to you. You sheepishly waved back and, even from your seat in the stands, you could see the grin that painted his face. 


The first half of the game was coming to a close. The other team was leading slightly but you could tell the home team was getting discouraged. (C/N) seemed off, not entirely focused in the game. You saw your brother go and talk to him a couple of times but couldn’t figure out what they were saying. When half time finally came about, you walked down to the sidelines to talk to (B/N).

“Hey, you ok?” You questioned hesitantly. You could see how tired he was. He shook his head slightly. “(B/N) it’s alright! You still have the entire second half to come back. And you guys aren’t far behind by any means. You can win this.” He smiled up at you.

“Thanks sis. You’re right. I’m just so tired. Why are these games staged so damn early in the morning?” You laughed and bumped his shoulder with his. As you were walking back to the stands you heard someone call behind you.

“Wait, (Y/N)!” It was (C/N) yet again. He jogged up to you and stopped to catch his breath.

“Hey! Oh, you want the sweatshirt back right? Thanks for letting me use it, it helped a lot. I understand that you-” 

“No. That’s not what I wanted to talk about.” He cut you off before you had a chance to take off his hoodie. 

“Oh? What’s up?” You questioned, nervous as to what he was about to say. He mirrored your emotions too, running his hand through his hair and shoving his hands into his pockets. He rocked back onto his heels and couldn’t seem to meet your gaze. “(C/N)?”

“Um, I don’t really know how to say this.” He quickly gazed around the field only to find half of the team staring at the pair of you. He grabbed your hand, “I think it’d be easier if it was in private.” He led you behind some trees, secluded from the world. Your cheeks burned as your hands remained interlocked. In fact, he actually reached for your other hand as well.

After taking a deep breath, he looked straight into your eyes. Your breath caught in your throat, he was gorgeous. The light filtered through the tree branches just right and created a marbled effect on his face. His piercing eyes fixated on you, almost holding you captive.

“I need to tell you something. I can’t stop thinking about you. You occupy all of my thoughts, I mean I can’t even do something as simple as homework without getting distracted. That’s why I’ve been playing so crappy today, knowing that you’re watching me play trips me up. I want to impress you. I want to show that I’m good enough for you, even though I’m not. I mean I’m not even close to being worthy of your attention. I’ve pretty much liked you since the moment I laid eyes on you, and seeing you today in my hoodie drove me insane. I just, I guess I need you to know this. I’ve spent too much time watching from afar when I should have been talking to you more and making more of an effort. I understand if this is too much to handle right now, I mean I kind of just dumped this on you. But I was wondering if maybe I could take you out for pizza after the game? Just you and I, (B/N) would be kind of a buzzkill.” 

You sat there, eyes wide and mouth dropped open. For a moment you couldn’t even move. You felt paralyzed, like this was some sort of dream and anything could make you wake up. “Wow, (C/N) I-I don’t know what to say.” And as soon as the last word left your lips his face fell. His hands let go of yours and his shoulders sagged. He smiled sadly at you and turned to walk away. In a panic, you grabbed for his arm yet again. 

When he spun around you quickly latched onto his neck and kissed him, something you had imagined for years. Almost immediately his hands came to your waist and he pulled you closer to him. You melted into his embrace until it was difficult to distinguish where he ended and you began. The kiss slowly became heated, his hands snuck under your shirt and rested against the small of your back. You moaned slightly at the shock of his cold skin against yours. The noise made him pull back and grin devilishly at you, you could see his pupils dilate.

“Hmm I think that’s my new favorite noise.” His voice husky and low as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. Your cheeks grew rosy at his comment. 

“Yeah? Well I can’t wait to hear my new favorite noise.” You smirked and went in to kiss him even more. Before your lips made contact, a shrill whistle stopped you. 

“I guess that’s my cue. But don’t worry, love, we’ll pick this up after the game.” With a quick peck and a wink, he jogged back to the field. You could hear his team wolf whistle and cheer (C/N) and your face burned once more. You couldn’t wait for that pizza date.


A/N: Let me know if you guys want a part two!! This got a lil steamy at the end lol

Plot # 31 : Summer House

A group of friends decide to rent a beach house together for one month of summer. Due to a terrible thunderstorm on the day that everyone is supposed to arrive, only Muse A and Muse B show up on the first afternoon. Weather conditions become so poor that the roads are closed and the rest of their friends aren’t able to make it until the storm clears up (2 days later). On their own for the first weekend, Muse A and Muse B bond, exploring the house, cooking together, talking until morning, eventually giving in to a strong physical attraction between them the night before everyone else arrives. 

Version 1: Muse B is dating one of the friends who hasn’t arrived yet, but hasn’t mentioned this to Muse A. The truth comes out when the rest of the group arrives.

Version 2: Both Muse A and Muse B are single and ready to spend the summer indulging in their steamy fling.

Shitty/Lardo Coffee AU

Lardo would never admit it, not to anyone, but she secretly loved working at Annie’s. Pocket change aside, she loved the atmosphere, the camaraderie between herself and the other baristas, even the rough-and-tumble pace of rush hours and exam weeks. She loved coming home from work at the end of the day smelling like coffee beans and spices and fresh-baked goods. She loved when she got opening shifts, so that she could decorate the board outside and the chalk menus on the inside. Whether it’s the standard rainbows and violets and pride flags that are never far from Samwell’s aesthetic or something more seasonal or relevant to current events or whatever, she enjoyed the occasional return to what she loved about art in the first place: making pretty or spooky or eye-catching things that made herself and others happy.

One of the best parts of working at Annie’s, though, was definitely all the creep-tastic people-watching and eavesdropping she got to do. She loved when the tall, solemn jock (Jack, he always said, just loud enough to hear over the noise in the cafe, always leaving a sizeable tip in the Wellie-themed tip jar) came in with the little blond spitfire (Bitty, he always added with a sunny smile that could probably melt even Samwell’s snowdrifts) who was not-so-subtly in love with his friend. (The other baristas had bets about when they’d get together, but Lardo saved her money, planning instead to spend the ten bucks on getting them a cupcake or something when they finally figured it out. She remembered when Jack came in alone. He never smiled that much before. Or, you know. At all.) She loved when the tall black Canadian (Ransom - nickname?) came in with the even taller white loudmouth (Holster - hopefully a nickname too?) and practically finished each other’s sentences. No one knew if they were dating. No one - well, Lardo, at least - cared. They always seemed happy, and that was all that mattered to her. She loved when her fellow barista Farmer’s boyfriend Chowder came in with his friends. She’d actually had a class with Nursey (her last history requirement and his first), so she knew enough to only ever entrust his drink to Dex and to stay well out of their arguments. She wasn’t sure if they were dating, either. It was Samwell. Who ever knew?

She particularly loved when this one guy came in like clockwork at nine every weekday, three every weekend. She knew, objectively speaking, he wasn’t exactly a looker. He had the hair of an eighties rock artist who got lost in a series of back alleys, a pervert moustache, and the kind of lanky, tall frame that screamed “fuckboy” to her well-trained eyes. By all rights, she should at least dislike him on looks alone.

And yet.

There was just something about him that always drew her eyes back to him. She decided it was an artist’s instinct, wondering how the fact to capture the train wreck that was his mop of hair on paper or canvas, when she realized she was thinking just as much about his eyes, and his hands, and his mouth, and so she reconsidered.

So much of it was in the way he moved, she thought. For as much as he looked like the worst kind of Call of Duty douche canoe, he moved like a five-year-old, constantly bouncing from Point A to Point B, then practically vibrating as if he was just dying to get to Point C, and so on. But it was also in his eyes, which never dipped below her chin, or the chins of any of the other baristas on duty. They were good eyes, if a bit plain, but full of light, the kind that she had never been able to translate to the canvas.

And then he came in one day, completely out of schedule, talking animatedly with Jack (before Bitty ever started to come by), and she knew he could not be the asshat she imagined him as. Jack wasn’t smiling, not by a long shot, but Lardo saw in a glance that wasn’t because he wasn’t happy.

By some stroke of fate, though, the entire year she’d been working at Annie’s (excluding the semester she’d spent abroad), she had never worked the cashier the same time as he’d come in, and not for lack of trying. After that fateful unscheduled visit, she’d tried to get her hand in, but she didn’t do the whole cashier thing much anyway, usually mixing drinks because she was the best with proportions (funnily enough, she saw it as similar to mixing paint) and her math skills were not exactly the strongest. Still, she did it sometimes, but never when the guy came in, until one day toward the end of the winter semester of her junior year, when he comes in like clockwork, shaking the snow from his head and glancing around like always, as if he’d never seen the place before.

“What can I get for you today?” Lardo asked politely, trying to keep to her normal levels of monotone so the excitement didn’t get through. She’d heard him speak before, of course - his voice was loud, and he never really made a point to lower it - but she’d never gotten to speak to him herself.

“So that’s what your voice sounds like,” Ugly Hair grinned. “I didn’t know if Jack was lying to me when he said you had one.”

“I’m surprised Jack mentioned me,” she replied truthfully. She knew he was considerate, from the way he’d sometimes pay for Bitty’s drink when the blond was low on cash to the way he always tipped well, but there was a difference between generosity and noticing a barista’s speaking habits. “I take it you’ll want your usual?”

“Of course he mentions you,” Ugly Hair said. “You’re the only barista here other than Farmer who hasn’t tried to hit on him while he was trying to get his coffee. And yeah, medium mocha latte and a croissant. You’re his favorite barista in the history of ever.”

Lardo smiled as Ugly Hair paid. “He’s a favorite of mine around here, too. He has kind eyes, and he’s always polite. And I’m happy he’s finally found someone to make him smile now and again.”

“Who, Bitty? Yeah, the little dude just seems to bring out the best in everybody, I think. He’s really good for Jack, who’s been around so many people who are only interested in the worst.” Ugly Hair scratched his chin and smiled at her. “So am I getting my drink?”

“Oh, yeah.” Lardo cringed and grabbed a medium cup. She was by herself behind the counter at the moment, since it was the between-meal slump, and it always threw off her groove to do everything herself. “Sorry, what did you say your name was?”

“Let’s go with…The Dread Pirate Roberts, this time,” Ugly Hair decided, and Lardo shot back a grin.

“Aw, your Buttercup waiting for you somewhere?” she asked, scrawling the chosen name on the cup and going to make his drink. She was glad there wasn’t anyone else in the store to pay attention to; this was the most engaging conversation she’d had all week.

“Naw, I just like the idea of being a pirate,” he said. “You got a name yourself?”

“Larissa, but my friends call me Lardo,” she answered, tilting her head at the frown that took over his face.

“They don’t sound like good friends to me,” he muttered, and she turned it over in her head for a second before getting it.

“Oh, no, it’s nothing to do with my weight or anything,” she reassured him. “Although I wouldn’t care if it was, seeing as I am the smallest person I know, and all. Freshman year I had to make a sculpture out of an item of food. Most people chose cereal or whatever, but I made a vivisected pig out of lard. It was pretty extra, so I kind of got a rep out of it.” She was not prepared for the full-bodied laugh that accompanied her story. It shook his entire body, and his face scrunched up in a way that should absolutely not have been endearing.

“Man, that’s insane,” he giggled. “I love it.”

“Thanks,” she answered, handing over his drink and bagged croissant. “Have a good day, Captain Roberts.”

“As you wish, Lardo.”

It became a kind of habit. Every day, if she happened to be working at the same time, he would order and then come talk to her until his drink was out. Politics, art, Marvel vs. DC, literally everything and anything that came to mind. Every day, when she asked for his name, he gave her a different fictional character to put on his cup.

On one hand, she was kind of impressed. He never repeated one, not once in all the time she’d asked; she wondered if he had a list. But on the other hand, she was pissed off. Why didn’t he want her to know his name? Was it really bad, or did he just not want her to ask him out (which she did not do, ever™), or what?

Anyway, with finals and the utter shit art majors have to go through around that time, she didn’t really see him until right before she went home for Christmas Break, and she was completely unprepared when she did. It wasn’t at his usual time, and he came in with all her favorites. Jack and Bitty and Ransom and Holster and Chowder and Nursey and Dex all kind of mobbed Annie’s that Friday afternoon at around five, the once-Captain Roberts (and, most recently, Captain Jack Sparrow) in the midst of the probably buzzed crew. She shot Farmer and March smug smiles as she continued her lazy sweep up of the dining areas. (She’d had to deal with the entire LAX crew, only barely sober enough to stand, just an hour ago. By herself. Fuck the LAX crew.)

As was usual, though, once former Captain Jack Sparrow shouted his order over the noise, he staggered his way in her direction.

“Hey, Lardo,” he slurred, but only slightly.

“What have you been drinking?” she asked, fighting the smile she could feel in her chest. She’s only been gifted with this idiot while drunk once, and it was awesome. He literally did not shut up about how pretty she was the entire time. She didn’t need it, but it was nice to be appreciated. Especially when said appreciation never once approached how “hot” or “sexy” she was. Only “pretty”. She didn’t get a lot of that anymore.

“Tub juice,” he burped.

“Sounds disgusting. I wish I had some,” she sighed, sweeping more straw paper up. “Especially after the week I’ve had.”

“Well, when do you get off?” he asked. “We got more we can save for you.”

“Actually, I’m off in about ten,” she answered, ordering the bubbles in her stomach to settle the fuck down. “If you don’t mind waiting.”

“Course not,” he grinned, giving her a tipsy hug, that, despite her instinctual reaction to flinch away, was actually quite nice. Warm and comforting. “Guys, you mind if Lardo comes back to the Haus with us?” Lardo blinked, not sure where the confusion started. Did he live with those other guys? Since when? And why did the way he said “house” sound different?

When he got pretty much unanimous “hell yeahs”, he grinned back at her. “So it’s settled.”

“Does this mean I get to know your actual name now? Or do I just keep calling your Batman for the rest of time?” she half-joked, half-demanded. She knew his drunk ass would only get one half of it, and she wasn’t particular on which half he picked up;

“Oh! You don’t know my name! Sorry, I always give the barista on duty some kind of crap fake name because I hate my real name and I figured I didn’t want to force any barista who didn’t like swearing into writing my nickname. It’s kind of habit. But yeah, my friends call me Shitty.”

“Shitty.” She stared at him, wondering if the alcohol had messed with his brain.

“Yeah.” He grinned, and she was suddenly thrown back to when she first saw him, ugly hair, ugly beard, ugly fuckboy posture. She grinned back.


Royalty AU!Moonbin
  • its not like he sees you everyday
  • actually
  • he’s only seen you once
  • you’re the village baker’s daughter and he usually delivers fresh bread to the castle’s doorstep but he’s got a cold
  • so for one day you fill in for your father
  • and Prince Bin happens to be looking out his bedroom window
  • the moment he sees you he’s stuck because you have an intelligent vibe coming from you and you’re just delivering b r e a d
  • also you’re cute as fuck he wants to kiss you all over and tuck you into bed and cuddle you to sleep
  • he hopes you’ll come the next day 
  • and the next and the next and the next
  • because Bin is shy and he’s gonna need like a week of lowkey stalking you to be able to talk to you
  • so his heart is sort of broken when you don’t come back the next day and it’s your dad instead
  • poor Bin hes a sweetheart don’t break his heart
  • he actually mopes for a few days about it and complains to any servant who will listen 
  • “she was just really pretty”
  • “what if i never see her again”
  • “i felt a connection, bernard, a connection!!!!”
  • “why is unrequited love a thing”
  • “why do bad things happen to good people”
  • “bernard what if- why are you laughing thiS IS SERiOuS”
  • but then he gathers himself up and decides to take matters into his own hands
  • he gets a carriage ready
  • dresses up nicely but like casual nicely so he doesn’t scare you
  • gets the address of the baker from his kitchen help (and purposely ignores the maids and butlers all giggling and pining after him)
  • and goes off
  • “i’m going on an adventure, bernard, one that might end in true love!!!! or me landin a hot date who knows”
  • poor bernard
  • he didn’t sign up for this when he became the prince’s manservant he really didn’t
  • Prince Bin eventually ends up at your family’s bakery
  • but not before accidentally driving through a farm (he insisted on taking the reins of the carriage from the driver even though he really has no idea on how to drive)
  • scaring a bunch of birds and, yes, the birds relieved themselves over his carriage
  • falling in a river (0/10 he would recommend)
  • and in general becoming very, very disheveled
  • but he reaches your bakery more or less alive so point for him
  • knocks on the door and when you answer it he’s like “I’m Bin Prince, sorry, Prince Moon, sorry, Moon Prince, sorry Min Boon?????” just so cute and tongue tied like omfg
  • but you know who he is and even though hes sopping wet and his carriage is almost white with bird droppings and his hair is sticking up places he IS the Prince
  • and he’s cute
  • but he’s the prince first so you have to ask him in and get out your nice silverware even though he’s dragging mud through your bakery
  • and while you’re getting a meal set up for him because you know how far away the castle is he strikes up a conversation with you
  • until you ask politely what exactly he’s doing in your family’s place and he goes quiet and wow he’s even cuter than you originally thought 
  • “Well… I kind of saw this girl drop off some bread a week or so ago, rather than the baker himself, and I thought she was pretty and I wanted to get to know her, so I got the baker’s address, and I ended up here.”
  • damn it he’s a smooth motherfucker you can’t handle it 
  • the prince??? showed up looking??? for you??? youre freaking out on the inside but you just say 
  • “Funny. I went to drop off some bread at the palace, oh, a week or so ago, and I saw this boy looking out a window at me. He was really, very attractive, but I think it may have been the prince.”
  • and he grins and you find yourself smiling back and when your parents get back from running errands they find you and the prince roaring in laughter, sitting much closer than you two had been when he originally got there
[TRANS] Harper’s Bazaar May Issue

Red Velvet’s debut had a lot of people tilting their heads. A lot of people were expecting a second f(x) or SNSD, but Red Velvet came out as a third type of idol that was closer to a new genre. They were an idol group that wasn’t surprising nor public friendly. They didn’t have a cute, sexy, or hipster kind of official color like previous groups. The cheerful and fun girls were yelling ‘Booyah!’ in their debut song ‘Happiness’ and only two months later, they are putting on a chair performance while promising to invite us to a secret world. 

And their music? The song ‘Happiness’, that was made by Chad Hugo who was in the same band N.E.R.D as Pharrell Williams, wasn’t an idol genre we have seen before.Musician and song writer, Jinbo, reviewed Red Velvet’s ‘Happiness’ like this: “Using an African tribal beat instead of a 4/4 rhythm showed that rather than going for the public music charts, they were going for a mania-heavy, experimental technique that can be heard widely on soundcloud. If you look at their arrangement as well as the minimal instrumental composition, they were trying for a more progressive sound compared to other idols.” With their not-so-simple nor normal melody, their unique lyrics such as “When I wake up in the morning, I tell my mom I love her. My kind daughter”, they had music communities talking. The reviews ranged between ‘weird’ and ‘refreshing’. Although the thoughts were contrasting, one thing was for sure: Red Velvet was a brave group. They were determined to prove their first line from ‘Happiness’, “Sometimes you gotta be bold!”.

Keep reading

If you stumble make it part of the dance

jNext part to Showcase series. (this was a minific right?) well anyway picking up a few days later, y/n won’t talk to Yugyeom and hasn’t even been showing up to practice. Time for plan B. Will Yugyeom really be able to convince someone to help him out, or is he just going to be stuck with a busted lip, shredded pride and an aching heart filled with words left unsaid?

 You had been miserable for the past few days and you weren’t the only one. Your friends were worried, Yugyeom was growing more and more distraught, even your teachers were picking up on the emotional disarray. When the time comes to hear him out and new secrets come to light for everyone will it be enough to change your mind?

Originally posted by jookyunhoe

Originally posted by blankjiace

                           ********** Yugyeom POV**********

“BamBam seriously you have to get her to talk to me. I’m going crazy.” Yugyeom begged for what seemed like the billionth time that morning.

“Oh you’re going crazy? I’m sorry I hadn’t noticed. Jinyoung, V did you notice Yugyeom going crazy over here?” Bambam relayed dramatically to his fellow acting majors. 

“Yeah I think I might’ve heard something about that. It definitely rings a bell.” Taehyung laughed then shrugged innocently when Yugyeom glared at him. 

“None of you are funny. I hope you know that.” Yugyeom grumbled.

“Well no offense. but you have been saying the same damn thing since yesterday morning. It stopped being funny and went straight to pathetic 23 hours ago. Either grow a pair and talk to the girl or go bug someone else about it. Bambam has already said he isn’t getting involved with this one, and I am definitely not having Y/n pissed at me because you’re an idiot. Try JB or Jeongyeon. Maybe one of them will take pity on you.” Jinyoung told the younger boy and then went to grab his coffee from the barista when she called his name. 

“Whatever I will see you guys later. B please if you see her today just ask her what I can do to fix this?” Yugyeom asked picking up his jacket and shrugging it on his shoulders.

“Dude. I don’t have the time or the crayons to explain this to you. Y/n isn’t mad at you. Trust me if it were that simple you would have already gotten yelled at. We can hear you guys in the theater during practices she’s so loud. This isn’t something that is going to go away just because you say sorry. You are actually going to have to get your hands dirty for this one Yug. I can’t tell you how to do it, or put myself in between the two of you. I refuse.” BamBam told him then stood up and walked out of the door. Taehyung gave Yugyeom a sympathetic look. 

“I will see if Kook can ask one of the others what she’s been saying lately, but I won’t promise anything. Good luck bro. Sounds like you need it.” Taehyung said.

“Thanks V.” Yugyeom said and smiled half-heartedly.

                             ******Reader POV Dorm Sleepover********

“So you still aren’t going to talk to him?” Momo asked. You were sitting in your dorm’s common area with some of the other dancers, musicians and actresses in your dorm that you at least had a somewhat easy relationship with. 

“I don’t know. I mean what am I supposed to say to all of this? I can’t even figure out how I feel about him right now.”  you said. 

“So how long have you been in love with him? You don’t get this messed up over two weeks of practice without fighting” Sana asked. 

“Don’t you?” You asked and shrugged then smiled at her teasingly, but your memory traveled back to the summer before freshman year when you had first met Yugyeom and a sad smile replaced its happier counterpart on your face.

You had gone to the local athletic center to visit the open practice rooms. There was a freestyle competition coming up, and even though dancing was in your blood if your parents had caught you doing freestyle again you would be finished. It had taken everything over the past few years to convince your parents that dance wasn’t a waste of your time, but your calling. You finally got them to agree, but there were conditions. You were supposed to forget about freestyle. You were supposed to put your efforts towards ballet and academics. You were supposed to be at the library that morning. You were supposed to do a lot of things. Dancing in the studio and meeting Yugyeom wasn’t one of them. 

You had been headed into the studio when you heard heavy bass leaking through the door. You went in and were met by the too loud sound of a Chris Brown track and the tall body of another dancer. He was definitely young like you, but it was like every awkward bone and movement had skipped him leaving behind this amazing dancer. You were watching him amazed when the music stopped and you found yourself still gawking at this boy who had now adopted a lazy smirk and was leaning on a mirror looking at you. Your mind finally caught up with what was happening and you blushed.

“Oh sorry I thought it was empty. I’ll just find another…” You pointed to the door and started to back out.

“Wait!” The boy said moving off the mirrored wall. 

“Yeah?” You hesitated at the door and looked back.

“I’m almost done in here and the room is plenty big enough for six dancers. Why don’t you stay?” He offered.

“I really don’t want to bother you. I mean I am just going to be working on my freestyle and I don’t…” You started to say.

“Wait freestyle? You’re a freestyle girl?” he asked amazed.

“Yeah. What? I don’t look like it?” you joked.

“No. I mean… you do… I mean I didn’t expect… I’m Yugyeom.” He sputtered.

“y/n. So you prepping for the competition on Friday?” You said trying to make him relax a little. 

“Uh… yeah. I just moved here and I heard about it from a guy named Shownu.” Yugyeom told you.

“Shownu? Yeah he’s a great dancer. Just be careful around his friends.” You said.

“Why? What’s wrong with them? They seem pretty cool.” Yugyeom asked.

“Oh… it’s nothing really. I just had a bad experience with one of them last year and he never really got over it that’s all. I…I should get going.” You shrugged and started to pack your bag.

“Y/n wait can I see you again?” Yugyeom said following you out.

“Here. Tomorrow. 6 a.m. don’t be late.” You said and walked out of the studio smiling.

 “y/n? Sana is right though isn’t she?” Tzuyu asked.

“What? Sorry I was thinking about the first time I met him.” You admitted sheepishly.

“Even I don’t know that story. Come on now you gotta tell us.” Jeongyeon insisted.

“Everything. From the beginning and don’t leave anything out.” Jihyo insisted.

“It’s really not that interesting. It started with a dance competition. I met him in a studio over the summer and things got complicated when freshman year started. They stayed complicated for the next four years and I almost died because of a stupid prank. That’s it.” You gave them the easy version hoping it was enough, but knowing your friends no one got off that easy.

“And you think we are just going to let you leave us with that? Come on Y/n tell us what really happened.” Jeongyeon said tugging on your arm.

“Alright alright fine here’s what really happened…”  You went through the story and got more nervous as every part of your story unfolded for them you got scared. Anyone else would have been able to tell their high school memories and smile. Every memory you had however was tangled up with Kihyun, the others, and Yugyeom in one way or another. None of it was happy. Not after that summer and you knew it because the further the story got along the more your friends shoulders slumped, the less their eyes met yours, and the quieter they became. When you finally got to what happened when you saw Kihyun and the others two days before they were well on their way from quiet to either crying or angry depending on the girl. 

“So that guy Kihyun threatened to come back and Yugyeom just stood there?” Tzuyu asked.

“and he went with them afterwards?”  Nayeon added.

“Doesn’t sound like Y/n, Jimin, or hobi gave him much of a choice.” Dahyun mused.

“Look he could have gone anywhere after that door shut. Hell he could have stayed sitting outside waiting on her to come back out, but instead he left with those guys. Y/n didn’t make a mistake in telling him to leave. He needs to get his priority straight.” Jeongyeon defended.

“Jeongyeon, Y/n what does Yugyeom look like?” Jihyo asked. 

“Tall, muscular, dark red brown dyed hair. why?” You asked.

“Momo isn’t that the guy from chem that came in with the busted lip and swollen face yesterday?” Jihyo asked the other girl.

“I doubt it I mean that red dye has gotten really popular and besides why would a dance major take Advanced Chemistry if he didn’t have to?” Momo asked.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” The girl shrugged then you all heard the clock chime on the wall signaling it was almost one in the morning.

“We should probably get to bed ladies. Some of us have class and volunteer work in the morning.” Nayeon said. Everyone started muttering their good nights and straightening out their sleeping bags and you moved yours over to where Momo and Jeongyeon were laying.

“y/n you still awake?” Jeongyeon nudged your shoulder causing you to stir.

“mmm?” you responded. It wasn’t like your thoughts were letting you sleep anyway. 

“Okay. So tell me the truth, do you love him?” Jongyeon had waited until the other girls were asleep and Momo was lightly snoring next to the two of you before asking. Her voice had been barely above a whisper, and you rolled over straining to see the lines of your friends face, but found you couldn’t give her an answer. Eventually you just looked away.

“Even if you don’t love him. I think Yugyeom loves you. I think he always has. The way he looks at you proves it,” she told you like this should have been the most obvious thing in the world. but when you thought back on it you couldn’t remember him being any different, or looking at you in a special way. Not in the way that she was meaning he looked at you.

“He just fell into the wrong crowd, and I think Kihyun kept the two of you apart from one another. whether it was by making Yugyeom push you away, or by keeping Yugyeom too afraid to challenge him he kept you apart. Made you hate Yugyeom almost as much as you hated him.”  Jeongyeon continued. Her voice was low and scratchy like it only gets when you are almost asleep.

“Even if that was true…. Do you really think it will be so easy to just forgive each other and move forward?” You had flopped on your back again looking through the skylight. It was easier to ask these things when you didn’t have to look anyone in the eyes. You didn’t get a response.

“Yeonnie?” You whispered again calling out your friend’s pet name but you were answered only with a light grumble of agreement from Jeongyeon and Momo smacking you with her pillow before returning to her dreams.

“Goodnight you two.” You responded softly, but everyone had given you too much to think on so you found yourself just staring at the stars and mulling over the conversations and memories until the exhaustion won out and you passed out around 5 in the morning. The chimes of the clock lulling you into a dreamless sleep.

You woke up to the sun shining in your eyes and the sound of the other girls cleaning up their sleep mats and sleeping bags around you. 

“Morning sunshine!!!” Jeongyeon exclaimed cheerfully. If looks could kill she’d have been dead three times over.

“Oh relax grumpy I bought you a chai.” She held out a warm cup for you.

“What time is it?” You mumbled after taking a sip and having the warm liquid ooze some life back into you.

“Nine.” Momo answered from where she was rolling up her gear next to you. You paused in sipping your drink realizing that if you had been going to practice you should have been there three hours ago. It was Saturday. He wouldn’t possibly have gone to the studio. Especially with you avoiding him. Would he have?

“Go get changed Y/n I’ll clean this up.” Jeongyeon said clearly realizing where your thoughts had drifted off to.

“I’m already three hours late. He would have come and gone by now.” You said trying to brush it off like you were disinterested.

“Y/n if you do not go to that damn studio I will tell Hoseok to tell Jin to black list you from the family dinner for the next two months.” Jeongyeon threatened. Family dinner was a sort of pot luck that you and your friends did every month to celebrate the day you met and catch up on things that had been going on in classes, new dance moves you’d learned, helping the theater students with their lines and the tech stuff when needed. It was basically the way everyone kept in touch because outside of classes and events you all were almost always too busy to see each other all the time. 

“You wouldn’t.” You countered. In lieu of an answer she pulled up her phone and called Hobi on speaker. 

“Hey babe. What’s up?” Hoseok’s usually cheery voice was tinged with concern.

“Alright alright I’m going. You are cruel I hope you know that.” You said throwing your pillow at her then stumbling awkwardly out of the blankets and up to your dorm to change into the dance gear. You didn’t know what made you more scared. The fact that he might have waited, or the fact that he may have given up.

                                    ********Hoseok POV********

He’d been hanging out with Jungkook when his phone went off to some cutesy Twice song.  He couldn’t understand why his girlfriend seemed to like those girls so much, or why she kept changing his ringtone for her every time he turned around. As annoying as it was he still had to admit that he changed it back just so she would ‘fix’ it again. 

“Hold on a sec kookie.” J-hope paused the younger boy mid sentence then answered the phone. 

“Hey babe. What’s up?” He answered. It wasn’t like her to call this early in the morning, but he was glad she did. Even if it worried him.

“Alright alright I’m going. You are cruel I hope you know that.” Y/n’s voice came echoing through the speaker, and Jungkook gave him a confused look to which he just shrugged. 

“Sorry about that Jagi. I had to threaten y/n’s place at family dinner for her to get up this morning. Do you know if Yugyeom went to the studio.” Jeongyeon asked.

“He goes there every day. Six a.m. just like clockwork. Why?” Jungkook said mattered of factly. Hoseok rolled his eyes and shushed the younger boy who just gave him a confused look earning an eye roll in return from the older boy. Jungkook didn’t need to get involved in whatever this was with y/n and Yugyeom. Truthfully neither did Hoseok, but as long as Jeongyeon was involved he would be too.

“Jungkook, what time does he leave?” Jeongyeon demanded.

“No clue. Sometimes on Saturday he is only in there for an hour other times he is there all day.” Hoseok told her. It was too late for him to hide it and he didn’t like lying to Jeongyeon.

“so there’s still a chance.” Jeongyeon breathed a sigh of relief. 

“What was that?” Hoseok asked confused.

“Nothing. I will see you today at noon right?” Jeongyeon said.

“yeah. see you then Jagi.” He replied as she hung up the phone. 

“What was that about?” Jungkook asked as the two of them resumed the video game they were playing.

“Not a clue. Now what were you trying to ask me?” Hoseok asked executing one of the enemy characters on screen with a few bullets too many.

“Well… about that…. V hyung asked me to talk to you about y/n.” Jungkook mashed at the buttons on his controller letting out a curse when his character was hit.

“Does he like her?” Hoseok asked confused tapping a few more buttons.

“What? No! that’s not why I’m…” Jungkook started then let out a groan when he ran out of ammo in the game.

“Then you like her?” Hoseok asked skeptically. It was no secret that Jungkook had been crushing on Sana for months and for him to suddenly like Y/n was weird even for a guy like Jungkook who fell in love easily and often because of how young he was.

“No! Geez hyung will you let me finish? This is about Yugyeom and y/n.” Jungkook snapped getting flustered and embarrassed and throwing the controller to the side.

“Oh come on Kook not you too.” Hoseok groaned and finally paused the game to look at the younger boy.

“He’s really got all of you convinced that he’s this great guy. To be honest I wanted to believe him too, but you didn’t see her that day that those jerks showed up. She went from being on top of the world to being crushed under the weight of it. There was nothing that me or Jimin could say or do. We even had to call JB out of his music production class.” Hoseok said.

“Is there something between JB and y/n?” Jungkook asked confused.

“It’s not like that Kook. They have history. They all three have history. You know how people say there are three sides to a story? Well JB is the third side to this one. If you or anyone else wants to know the rest of it they need to talk to JB. Look can we just go back to our game now? Let them figure this out.” Hoseok asked him.

                                   ******** Reader POV********

You had rushed probably all too eagerly to the dance hall at the school. It was crazy to think he was there still, but your heart quickened at the thought.  when you came bursting through the door of the practice room and saw broad shoulders and a snapback spinning and turning to the music you were relieved.

“Oh thank god you’re still…” You started and he walked over and paused the music only turning to look at you when it was completely quiet but instead of that lazy smirk you were met with a confused pair of brown eyes with two little moles at the brow line.

“Oh… Jae I’m sorry, I thought you were…” You didn’t mean to sound so disappointed, but he obviously heard it anyway.

“Yeah. I figured as much. y/n there’s something we need to talk about.”

Fella Done Me Wrong

Originally posted by elysean

Originally posted by vogue-n-bitches

Based on Anonymous Prompt: Hi !! May I request a 40’s!Steve x reader where the reader is the singer in a bar and Steve just can’t keep his eyes off of her and when she’s sung, she starts to serve and it’s like the “how did a girl like you end up in a dump like this” -fella done me wrong" scene from AoU? I’m rambling but I hope you understand and have a lovely day!

A/N: I’m realizing now that a lot of these prompts are from MAY and I’m just now getting to them and I am so, so sorry for that.  This got really angsty, like way angstier than I thought was possible, but I had fun writing in a more poetic style.  Pretty different from my normal fluff, so let me know what you think!

Tagging @pleasecallmecaptain, @mattymattymerduck, @writingbarnes, @kissofvenom922, @b-orderline, @shamvictoria11, and @callingmrsbarnes.


Soldiers pass in and out of the bar every day.  You rarely see the same face twice.  On principle, you never think about why that could possibly be.  If you can keep your mind from wandering, you just might be able to sleep at night.

But on this particular night, there’s one face that you just barely recognize.  One face that you feel as if you’ve seen before, an almost familiar face in the ever-changing crowd you’ve come to inhabit.

His eyes follow your every movement as you croon out a few songs, helping everyone in the small, moth-eaten bar to forget about the war going on all around them, if only for a few hours.  You sing the same set of standards you do every night, a selection of upbeat dance classics and melancholy torch songs, but it’s different tonight.  It’s different because you’re singing to him.

After your set is done, you step down and move back behind the bar.  The joint’s perpetually understaffed, and you pitching in means free drinks to drown your sorrow in at the end of the night.

The man approaches slowly, in a self-conscious way that you’re not used to seeing.  Men that look like him, they’re normally all swagger and bravado, eager to tell you tales of bravery and derring-do.  The way he moves is different, as if he doesn’t quite believe he belongs.  You feel a surge of affection for the man that surprises you.  You hadn’t realize your jaded heart had the capacity for such innocence.

“How goes it, soldier?” you say, a well-worn smile spreading across your perfectly glossed red lips.  

“I’ve seen better days,” he replies, sitting down before you.  Other soldiers crowd the bar around him, attempting to flag you down, but you pay them no attention.  It’s almost as if the rest of the world has melted away and it’s just the two of you, alone in the bar.

“Haven’t we all?” you say, sliding a drink across the bar.  “On the house.  Or rather, on me.”

“Thank you,” he replies, picking up the glass.  He brings it to his lips and they briefly kiss the rim before he sets the glass back down, the drink untouched.  “So how did a nice girl like you wind up working in a dump like this?”  

A low, throaty chuckle escapes you.  You can’t help it; you’ve heard all the variations of the line.  But there’s something in his voice that puts a stop to your laughter, a candor and a genuine curiosity.  And for once in your life, you give an honest answer.

“Fella done me wrong,” you reply as your eyes meet him.  He raises an eyebrow ever so slightly, silently asking for more, but you offer nothing more.  You hold his gaze as he shifts his glass from hand to hand.  

“You got a lousy taste in men,” he replies and you let out another laugh, sharper this time.

“Don’t I know it,” you say, grabbing a tattered rag and wiping the bar down in front of you.  Your voice is bitter, betrays more than you’d like.

“What kind of man leaves a girl in the middle of a war?” he asks and you decide you’ve had enough of the charade.

“The kind you fall madly in love with,” you say simply.  “The kind that becomes your entire world and convinces you to follow him across an ocean.  The kind that marches out with his regiment and never comes back.  The kind that you always knew would break your heart.”  The loud bustle of the bar only seems to highlight the silence that hangs between the two of you like an ugly storm cloud.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his hand inching forward as if he wants to take yours.  “Which regiment?”

“107th,” you say mechanically, the number seared into your mind.

“We got ‘em back,” he says and your heart flutters at the hope in his voice.  Hope that some would call naiveté.  “They were POWs and we took the facility.  We freed the-”

“I know,” you respond, finally forcing yourself to pour drinks for the rest of the thirsty soldiers.  “His fellow soldiers, they were the ones who came and found me, told me how he went down fighting.”

He doesn’t respond, and you know there’s nothing for him to say.  You slide the drinks over the bar and you’re met with a round of cheers.  You force a smile onto your face, one you’ve practiced in front of the mirror.  It’s too broad, too tight.  But you’re not quite sure what a real smile looks like anymore.

“Why haven’t you gone home?” he asks.

“Home?” you repeat wistfully.  He lets out a half-hearted laugh and you know he feels the same longing you do.  “Where’s home for you?”

“Brooklyn.”  It clicks into place for you.  You’ve seen his deep, soulful eyes, that optimistic smile of his, albeit on a much scrawnier frame.  You remember him staring up at you from the audience at a couple of the shows you played in the neighborhood.

“You were that scrawny kid, the one that always took on the bigger guy, always got kicked out of the bar, usually in the middle of my set.  What are you doing over here?”

“Well ma’am,” he replies.  “You might not have heard, but there’s a war on.”  There’s something about the way he says that makes you laugh.  Not the way you laughed before.  Lighter, clearer, higher.  The way you used to laugh.

“Well, for that, I’ll grant you something many men have asked for, but none have received,” you say, wiping your hands on a towel.

“What’s that?”

“A dance.  If you’re up to it.”  He offers you a hand and you make your way around the bar.  He leads you to the center of the floor, placing one hand on your waist.  Against your better judgement, you slide forward and lay your head gingerly on his chest.  You listen to the steady beat of his heart as he threads his fingers through yours.  It’s been a while since you’ve been this close to anyone.

He sways back and forth to the music and you follow his lead, although your movements are dictated by the constant, reassuring thumps in his chest.  The band stops and starts a new song, but you make no move to leave and neither does he.  You stay that way, wrapped in each others’ arms until people finally start to trickled out and the morning light is just about kissing the horizon.

“It’s been quite a night, Brooklyn,” you smile.  

“Steve,” he says.  You nod, but you don’t offer your name in response.  “My unit moves on today.  We were just passing through.”

“I figured as much,” you say.  You still haven’t let go of his hand.

“Think we’ll ever meet again?” he asks.  The blend of hope and doubt in his voice very nearly break what’s left of your heart.  And so you match his honesty with your own.

“I’d like nothing more,” you say.  “But I don’t believe in making promises I can’t keep.”  He nods and raises your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against your knuckles.  Your hands reach up of their own accord, pulling his face down toward you.  You press your lips against his cheek and let him go.  He turns away and retreats into the dawn-streaked streets.  

Soldiers pass in and out of the bar every day.  You don’t see Steve again, not for the rest of the war and not when you return to the States and decide to make your home in Brooklyn.  On principle, you never think about why that could possibly be.  If you can keep him out of your thoughts, you just might be able to sleep at night.

isjustprogress  asked:

fyi if you don't think i am now not headcanon'ing that laura wears that hoodie, you have another thing coming.

Apparently I have a Really Big Thing for that OT3 wearing each other’s clothes (the girls in Clint’s work shirts, especially), so I am SO with you on this. 

I’m gonna say it’s Nat’s comfy sweater. She got it a size big to be able to be really comfortable when training, undercover, etc., but it also means it fits Clint. He “accidentally” grabbed it one day and they started stealing it from one another regularly, because (a) IT’S THE PRINCIPLE OF THE MATTER and (b) it smells like the other. But then one day when they’re all at the farm, Laura snags it to run out to the barn on a chilly day and they assume the other stole it/hid it and it turns into an all-out war…until Laura comes back in, hands in the pockets, staring at them both with an arched brow as they perch upon various pieces of furniture aiming something at one another (LBR, Cooper’s nerf/airsoft guns). They sheepishly climb down, now whining about how they’ll get the sweater even less.

Deep down, of course, they’re both okay with this turn of events. She looks super cute in it.

Bleach characters' greatest nemeses (that happen to be inanimate objects)

Author’s choice list. :)

Have you ever gotten really really angry at an inanimate object? Like, maybe your computer keeps shutting down without warning. Maybe you cannot get the ziplock on a ziplock bag to close properly. Maybe your red pen leaked in your pocket and now your favorite white shirt looks like something from a crime scene. So what sorts of inanimate objects do Bleach characters get, just, really angry at?

1. Grimmjow: Duct tape

Ever since it kept him out of that tent where Ichigo was on video chat, Grimmjow has carried around anger and a strong, strong desire for revenge.

Urahara: Grimmjow-san, I am not even going to ask why you are lying on the floor completely encased in duct tape.


2. Yamamoto: Hoodies

He just can’t seem to wear one without getting his eyebrows caught in the zipper.

Sasakibe: Head Captain! I heard you yelling! Are you okay?

Sasakibe: Why are you bent over like that?? Did your back go out?

Yamamoto: Just tell me you brought the scissors, Sasakibe!

3. Hinamori: Glasses

For obvious reasons, she just feels an overwhelming urge to punch people in the face when she sees that they are wearing glasses.

Nanao: Hinamori, did you just….growl at me?

Hinamori: I-I’m sorry! You caught me off guard!

4. Riruka: Furbies

They are fuzzy. They have large eyes. They should be cute. But they are not. They are creepy and they stare as though they want to eat your soul.


Yukio: Why do you assume it was me?

5. Bazz-B: Trick birthday candles

You know, the ones that keep relighting themselves if you blow them out. 

Bazz-B: Fuck!

Bazz-B: Fuck!


6. Halibel: 4-blade razors

As Apacci learned one sad day when she wasn’t careful enough with the shopping.

Halibel: Four blades? Four??


7. Rukia: Juice boxes

They haunt her still.

Ichigo: You seriously just poke the straw in - how is this hard?

Rukia: You don’t know my life, Ichigo!

Ichigo: ….I don’t?

8. Byakuya: Bobby pins

No matter how many he buys, he never seems to be able to find more than one when he needs them.

Renji: Wait….you use bobby pins?

Byakuya: Even hair as perfect as mine needs help sometimes, Renji.

9. Meninas: Pickle jars

She keeps accidentally breaking off most of the top half of the bottle when she tries to unscrew the lid.

Candice: Why do you smell like pickles?

Meninas: Oh come on, I already changed clothes!

10. Yoruichi: Can openers

She knows intellectually that as a human, she can operate can openers. But there is so much pent up frustration from her time in cat form that she just can’t stop being angry at them.

Urahara: I really don’t think you can peel off that lid with your bare hands, Yoruichi. Why don’t you use this -

Yoruichi: DON’T YOU SAY IT

11. Ikkaku: Socks

There is a reason he never wears them.

Yumichika: Ikkaku, you do know, don’t you, that everybody loses the occasional sock in the dryer.

Yumcihika: It’s not that big of a deal.

Ikkaku: Not that big of a deal??



12. Grimmjow: Laser pointers

The kitty part of his brain just doesn’t understand why he can’t catch the red dot.

Ichigo: So… have two inanimate nemeses?

Grimmjow: I’m an angry guy.

anonymous asked:

Can you please lawyer decode that new blind for me. Ace is so full of it.

Indeed, anon, indeed.
This last blind is full of shit, and at the same time it’s a work of genius.

  • Ipothesis a: they have no sources, and they’re just trolling us with Tumblr rumours.

They’re covering their ass, as usual:

1) He’s not longer dating that guy who is involved with the music industry (Ok, this is definitely not so clever.. you never said they were dating before) but they’re still friends: in other words they’re covering their ass because of course we will see them hanging out in the future.

2) He and his Ex are getting along much better lately: in other words their covering their ass because of course we will see no difference on their interactions.

3) His pr relationship will end before Valentine’s Day but maybe there will be more extensions: in other words they’re covering their ass because they have no idea how long it will last. (and that is so from the beginning)

But here it is, the work of genius: Harry and Louis are not back together.


In a single word the ratio of this blind (and of all their 1D blinds). They’re sipping slowly a story (that does not exist), to gain our hits. They’re creating an intense build-up and one day (I think i already did foretell this) they’ll come down to earth and they’ll announce that they’re back together. Everyone will get their Happily ever after. The shippers. Harry and Louis. And above all, Blind Gossip’s check.

There is at least another explanation, though.

  • Ipothesis b: This is a giant cover up, orchestrated by their management, to explain their future coming out.

When the news will be out, everyone will believe they just got together, while larry shippers will believe they just got back together. Maybe they think that in this way they will be able to avoid a lot of questions about the closeting. This is a common strategy: making people happy, to avoid questions (my philosophy teacher always said: “A dictatorship tries to make people happy. That’s wrong: a govern should make people free”)

Exception: For this scenario to be true, we should assume their management has a long-term strategy. As i said before (for example here , here and here ) i don’t think this is the case, though.

Yeah, i know, this is not a great work of lawyer decodification, but hey, what can i say, Blind Gossip is not what it used to be.

anonymous asked:

* ”Hiding behind your brother won’t erase your sins, Sans.” You look up at the defensive skull. “But it seems as though you’ve both convinced yourselves you’re happier this way. How sad. I’m sure one day, you won’t be able to lie to yourselves anymore.” You laugh. “I wonder what happens then?”



[BILLBOARD] Meet WINNER: K-Pop's Exciting New Boy Band

The quintet’s first single was revealed less than three weeks ago and now they have a No. 1 on Billboard’s World Albums chart and a Top 10 entry on Heatseekers Albums.

It’s an intrinsic property of the K-pop scene that its stars go through years of training before their public introduction. But for WINNER, the just-debuted boy band that joins BIGBANG2NE1PSY and more at YG Entertainment, that process was rather atypical.

Instead of hitting the market with a debut single, the quintet were introduced on South Korean reality-survival show Who Is Next: WIN which put two potential boy bands from YG in direct competition to let the public vote which would become the act “WINNER.” One hits the K-pop world, the other returns to trainee mode. The five-member outfit of Seungyoon (the band’s leader as well as a singer/composer), Minho (rapper/composer), Taehyun (vocalist/composer),Jinwoo (vocalist) and Seunghoon (rapper), proved victorious in October 2013 with a debut imminent.

After nearly 11 months of silence, WINNER went full-force with their debut dropping a full-length LP led by two singles and accompanying music videos. The 2014 S/S album was a polished, eclectic 10-track set with melancholy, R&B/hip-hop hybrid singles “Empty” and “Color Ring” (see below). Last week, the LP made a strong Billboard debut, selling 1,000 copies and hitting No. 1 on the World Albums chart (this week it’s at No. 11) and No. 6 on Heatseekers Albums, meaning a Billboard 200 debut wasn’t far off.

WINNER’s labelmates Akdong Musician and Lee Hi also earned well-received debuts (AKMU's Play hit No. 2 on World Albums, No. 20 on Heatseekers) as did newbie K-pop boy band GOT7 (a No. 1 on World Albums). But from a chart perspective, WINNER seems to be, well, winning. 

When the band was in New York shooting for their album jacket, Billboard met up with the guys to get their thoughts as 2014’s most unusual rookies.

After nearly 11 months of silence, WINNER went full-force with their debut dropping a full-length LP led by two singles and accompanying music videos. The 2014 S/S album was a polished, eclectic 10-track set with melancholy, R&B/hip-hop hybrid singles “Empty” and “Color Ring” (see below). Last week, the LP made a strong Billboard debut, selling 1,000 copies and hitting No. 1 on the World Albums chart (this week it’s at No. 11) and No. 6 on Heatseekers Albums, meaning a Billboard 200 debut wasn’t far off.

WINNER’s labelmates Akdong Musician and Lee Hi also earned well-received debuts (AKMU's Play hit No. 2 on World Albums, No. 20 on Heatseekers) as did newbie K-pop boy band GOT7 (a No. 1 on World Albums). But from a chart perspective, WINNER seems to be, well, winning. 

When the band was in New York shooting for their album jacket, Billboard met up with the guys to get their thoughts as 2014’s most unusual rookies.

In a hotel cafe near Times Square, WINNER quickly points out their hope to be viewed differently from their pre-debut status in the reality show. "That was us literally practicing and not being pros,“ the band says via translator. "That wasn’t even 10 percent. This is our image and this is who we are now as professional artists. There is so much more for everyone to see. And this is what we’re going to show everyone from now.”

While a sizable fanbase did fall in love with their persona on Who Is Next, WINNER debuted with a fresh supermodel concept; perhaps as a play to distinguish themselves from "Bad Boy" band BIGBANG. The guys went hardcore with the concept not only with the record’s title playing off common fashion-world terminology, but WINNER even walked down a catwalk at the album’s launch event.

While they can differentiate themselves from an aesthetic standpoint, WINNER admit to feeling pressured on how to be separate from YG’s other boy band.

“One of the things that was our on our shoulders was the title of being ‘the continuation of BIGBANG,’” the guys reflect. “That’s why we’re really making an effort to show our different color. Whether it be our clothing or style, we won’t try to imitate. We’ll really try to figure out what’s different, what’s really more our own, and show our own image.”

It wasn’t just BIGBANG comparisons stressing the guys out, either.

“We are a bit worried because Lee Hi and Akdong Musician succeeded greatly,” WINNER add of their chart-topping labelmates. “We’d be so grateful if we succeeded to that level and got No. 1. We don’t let that pressure get to us. We just want to make really good music, show that we’re YG’s next boy band and that we want to share our good music with you. If we can, as a new artist, show that and if people enjoy it, we would be grateful. We see that as succeeding.”

Despite their victories, WINNER hasn’t forgotten about those they came up with. When asked about their competition in Who Is Next, currently known as “Team B,” WINNER is hopeful to compete against their past rivals again.

“After we won, we were able to go produce and get ready for our album,” the guys explain. “Meanwhile, Team B had to practice again and go back to how it used to be. Though, through the YG Family concerts we were able to go on stage together and have an opportunity to perform with them again and that was great. We felt very emotional at that point because we work well together and we really help each other succeed…Even in the future, we hope we’ll be competitors and friends. Family, but healthy competition to help each other grow.”

Minho also shows love for another group he left behind, Block B, as the 21-year-old almost debuted as a part of the male outfitunder a different label years ago. “I feel with WINNER, I found home,” Minho says. “Block B was a cherished memory and a good experience with the practice. No regrets. But really, it’s about WINNER. I found home with WINNER. So this is a real debut.”

And with that real debut, WINNER is ready to hit the ground running after keeping fans waiting. While the guys eye solo debuts one day (“Every member really has talent, credentials and different appeals to come out as solo,” says Seungyoon) and collabs with YG acts (“We’ve been able to work with BIGBANG onstage and do little collaborations. That was awesome and amazing”), it’s WINNER’s time to reconnect with the fans that watched them on TV and to find new ones.

“We prepared a lot between the debut and after the broadcast,” Seungyoon concludes. “I really hope WINNER’s music can be energizing to people, make them feel happy and hopeful and that they’re really winners themselves. Thank you, we love you and thank you for waiting for us.”