so i thought i need to make a collection of these

TITLE — long distance.
WARNINGS — mature content and some swearing.
WORD COUNT — 2,901 words.
AUTHOR’S NOTE — i can’t even believe my last fic got over 300 notes, that’s insane, thank you so much. uh, this was supposed to be short and smutty but the angst in me came out to wreak havoc. it also turned out much longer than i intended (story of my life). and that fluff bit at the end? i don’t know her. anyway, hope you enjoy it, thanks for reading !


You’re woken up at 2:09 AM by a constant and nagging vibration, the glare of your phone guiding you as you blindly reach for the device. Through heavy-lidded eyes you study the name displayed on the screen and the sappy emojis that follow.

It’s your boyfriend.

“Hey,” you say, voice dripping with dread and worry, and fatigue. It’s silent on the other end safe for some rustling and just as you’re about to call after him, there’s a muted groan.

“B-bae?” He sighs into the transmitter—a sigh of relief. “Fuck,” he sobs. “I miss y-you. I… fuck.” Another sob. “Baby?”

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Don’t

Summary: Reader confesses her love, only to be shot down.      

Author’s Note: Oh, Billy… You always seem to get your ass kicked out at some point.    

IMAGINE REQUESTS CLOSED                   HEADCANON REQUESTS OPEN

Feedback always appreciated! Positive or negative! I always want my work to improve!

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Emilia Clarke Interview With Harper’s Bazaar

On her Indian Ancestry

“It’s this epic story: My grandmother was colonial Indian, and it was a big old family secret because her mum had an affair with someone in India,” says the English rose Emilia Clarke. “She would wear makeup to make her skin look white.” Granny passed away when Clarke was 16, and the teenager took off for India with her boyfriend to scatter the ashes. “She loved India more than she loved England,” Clarke says. “Fuck, yeah. I love that part of me—I’m like one-eighth Indian.”

On her father’s passing

When the subject turns to the passing of her father in July 2016 after a battle with cancer, Clarke grows pensive. She was in Kentucky filming the upcoming Above Suspicion as he neared the end: “It’s the worst. I did the journey three times to see him, and door-to-door it took 22 hours, and each time the movie was like, ‘We need you back.’ ”

Her comment on Dating

But dating can be tricky when Esquire has called you the sexiest woman alive. “I think in the early days I second-guessed everyone,” she says. “I mean, I do that in life anyway, but especially with fame and becoming successful, and strangers knowing you more than your circle of friends, I would worry about what people thought of me. Then you get to a point where you’re like, ‘You know what? I’m okay.’ ”

On Solo: A Star Wars Story

“We are in this era where the movie star is less than the movie.” 

On Nudity in Game of Thrones

“I’m starting to get really annoyed about this stuff now because people say, ‘Oh, yeah, all the porn sites went down when Game of Thrones came back on.’ I’m like, ‘The Handmaid’s Tale?’ I fucking love that show, and I cried when it ended because I couldn’t handle not seeing it. That is all sex and nudity. There are so many shows centered around this very true fact that people reproduce,” she adds. “People fuck for pleasure—it’s part of life.”

She collects Arts

“When I started to earn money, I’d buy prints. I’ve got a Matisse that is, like, one of 1,002, and is vaguely affordable. I like female artists and pieces inspired by women. Now I’m trying to buy actual pieces, but I can’t afford name artists.”

Harvey Weinsten sexually Harassed Lupita Nyong’o

Lupita: “I have been following the news and reading the accounts of women coming forward to talk about being assaulted by Harvey Weinstein and others. I had shelved my experience with Harvey far in the recesses of my mind, joining in the conspiracy of silence that has allowed this predator to prowl for so many years. I had felt very much alone when these things happened, and I had blamed myself for a lot of it, quite like many of the other women who have shared their stories.

But now that this is being discussed openly, I have not been able to avoid the memories resurfacing. I have felt sick in the pit of my stomach. I have felt such a flare of rage that the experience I recount below was not a unique incident with me, but rather part of a sinister pattern of behavior.

I met Harvey Weinstein in 2011 at an awards ceremony in Berlin, while I was still a student at the Yale School of Drama. An intermediary introduced him to me as “the most powerful producer in Hollywood.” As an aspiring actress, I was of course eager to meet people in the industry but cautious about strangers, and the intentions of men in general. So I tried to vet this famous producer by asking my dinner-table companions what they knew of him. A woman who was a producer herself cautiously advised me to “keep Harvey in your corner.” She said: “He is a good man to know in the business, but just be careful around him. He can be a bully.” And so I exchanged contacts with him in the hopes that I would be of consideration for one of his projects. I wanted to keep things professional, so I made a point of referring to him as “Mr. Weinstein.” But he insisted that I call him by his first name. In this first encounter, I found him to be very direct and authoritative, but also charming. He didn’t quite put me at ease, but he didn’t alarm me, either.

Not long after we met in Berlin, Harvey wrote to me inviting me to attend a screening of a film — a competitor’s film similar to one he had produced. He said we would be watching it with his family at his home in Westport, Conn., which was not far away from New Haven, where I was living at the time. He would send a car to pick me up. I accepted the invitation.

The driver and I met Harvey in the little town of Westport, where he informed me that we would be having lunch at a restaurant before getting to his home. I did not think much of this. It was a busy restaurant, and as soon as we sat down he ordered a vodka and diet soda for himself. I asked for a juice. Harvey was unimpressed with my choice and told the waiter to bring me a vodka and diet soda instead. I declined and said I wanted the juice. We went back and forth until finally he turned to the waiter and said, “Get her what I tell you to get her. I’m the one paying the bill.” I smiled and remained silent. The waiter left and returned with a vodka and diet soda for me. He placed it on the table beside my water. I drank the water. Harvey told me that I needed to drink the vodka and diet soda. I informed him that I would not.

“Why not?” I remember him asking. “Because I don’t like vodka, and I don’t like diet soda, and I don’t like them together,” I said. “You are going to drink that,” he insisted. I smiled again and said that I wouldn’t. He gave up and called me stubborn. I said, “I know.” And the meal proceeded without much further ado. In this second encounter with Harvey, I found him to be pushy and idiosyncratic more than anything.

We got to his home after lunch and I met his domestic staff and his young children. He took me on a brief tour of the house before he rounded us all up in the screening room to watch the film. He had just produced a similar film of his own, but everyone was raving about this rival version.

I settled in for the film, but about 15 minutes in, Harvey came for me, saying he wanted to show me something. I protested that I wanted to finish the film first, but he insisted I go with him, laying down the law as though I too was one of his children. I did not want another back-and-forth in front of his kids, so I complied and left the room with him. I explained that I really wanted to see the film. He said we’d go back shortly.

Harvey led me into a bedroom — his bedroom — and announced that he wanted to give me a massage. I thought he was joking at first. He was not. For the first time since I met him, I felt unsafe. I panicked a little and thought quickly to offer to give him one instead: It would allow me to be in control physically, to know exactly where his hands were at all times.

Part of our drama school curriculum at Yale included body work, using massage techniques on one another to understand the connection between body, mind and emotion, and so I felt I could rationalize giving him one and keep a semblance of professionalism in spite of the bizarre circumstance. He agreed to this and lay on the bed. I began to massage his back to buy myself time to figure out how to extricate myself from this undesirable situation. Before long he said he wanted to take off his pants. I told him not to do that and informed him that it would make me extremely uncomfortable. He got up anyway to do so and I headed for the door, saying that I was not at all comfortable with that. “If we’re not going to watch the film, I really should head back to school,” I said.

I opened the door and stood by the frame. He put his shirt on and again mentioned how stubborn I was. I agreed with an easy laugh, trying to get myself out of the situation safely. I was after all on his premises, and the members of his household, the potential witnesses, were all (strategically, it seems to me now) in a soundproof room.

Earlier Harvey had sent the driver to the store to buy a boxed collection of “The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency,” an HBO show that he had produced. This was the project he thought I would be right for, he said. (I later found out that the show had not been on the air for some time.) As I prepared to leave his home, he presented it to me. He wanted me to check it out and let him know what I thought. He would be in touch about it. I left for New Haven with his driver.

I didn’t quite know how to process the massage incident. I reasoned that it had been inappropriate and uncalled-for, but not overtly sexual. I was entering into a business where the intimate is often professional and so the lines are blurred. I was in an educational program where I was giving massages to my classmates and colleagues every day. Though the incident with Harvey had made me uncomfortable, I was able to explain and justify it to myself, and shelve it as an awkward moment. His offer to me to be a part of the HBO show was a very attractive one and I was excited about it, especially as I would be graduating in another year. I didn’t know how to proceed without jeopardizing my future. But I knew I would not be accepting any more visits to private spaces with Harvey Weinstein.

I decided to invite Harvey to come to a production I was in at school. Perhaps that way he would really see what I had to offer, and he would see my colleagues, too. He accepted the invitation, but the night of the production, he sent a message saying he had been caught up in New York and would be unable to attend. He would make it up to me. So when I received an official invitation to a staged reading of his new Broadway show, “Finding Neverland,” I was not surprised. I was still debating whether I should accept his invitation, and so I responded saying I was not certain that I could make it because of my school schedule. He responded with exactly the words I needed to hear: Come with whomever you want to come with. And so I invited two of my trusted male friends.

We attended the reading, and afterward Harvey invited us all to a restaurant for dinner with his comrades and collaborators. He sat me next to him, and another actress sat across from me. He had my friends sit at a different table. The talk was shop the whole time and Harvey held court with ease. He was charming and funny once more, and I felt confused about the discomfort I had previously experienced. I looked at the actress who I was informed had just worked with him on a project, searching her face for any sort of indication that she too had been made to feel uncomfortable by this powerful man, but of course I saw nothing. We did not stay very long because we had to catch a train back to New Haven. My friends had been equally charmed by Harvey. He knew when to turn it on if he wanted something. He was definitely a bully, but he could be really charming, which was disarming and confusing. I left feeling that perhaps he had learned my boundaries and was going to respect them.

A couple of months later, I received an email from Harvey, inviting me again to New York for a screening of “W.E.” After the screening, we would have drinks in TriBeCa. I then received a phone call from one of his male assistants to arrange my transportation. Feeling more confident about the new sense of boundaries that we had established in our last meeting, I attended the screening on my own this time. Afterward, as planned, his male assistant arranged for me to get to the Tribeca Grill, where Harvey would be joining us. I met a female assistant when I arrived there. I was expecting that it would be a group of us, as it had been for the reading, but she informed me it would just be Mr. Weinstein. She would sit with me until he arrived. She seemed on edge, but I could only imagine how stressful it was to work for a man who had so much going on.

Harvey arrived and the assistant immediately disappeared. We ordered drinks and starters. Again he was offended by my nonalcoholic beverage choice but he didn’t fight me on it as hard. Before the starters arrived, he announced: “Let’s cut to the chase. I have a private room upstairs where we can have the rest of our meal.” I was stunned. I told him I preferred to eat in the restaurant. He told me not to be so naïve. If I wanted to be an actress, then I had to be willing to do this sort of thing. He said he had dated Famous Actress X and Y and look where that had gotten them.

I was silent for a while before I mustered up the courage to politely decline his offer. “You have no idea what you are passing up,” he said. “With all due respect, I would not be able to sleep at night if I did what you are asking, so I must pass,” I replied.

His whole demeanor changed at that point. “Then I guess we are two ships passing in the night.” I had never heard that saying before, so I remember asking him what it meant. “It means just that,” he said. “We are two ships going in two different directions.”

“Yes, I guess we are.”

“So we are done here,” he said. “You can leave.”

We got up, having not eaten anything, and he led me out of the restaurant. My heart was beating very fast. A cab was hailed for me. I said I would take the subway (I could not afford a cab at the time), but he handed me some money and told me not to be silly, take the cab. Before I got in, I needed to make sure that I had not awakened a beast that would go on to ruin my name and destroy my chances in the business even before I got there.

“I just want to know that we are good,” I said.

“I don’t know about your career, but you’ll be fine,” he said. It felt like both a threat and a reassurance at the same time; of what, I couldn’t be sure.

I did not see Harvey again until September 2013 when I was in Toronto for the premiere of “12 Years a Slave,” the first feature film I was in. At an after-party, he found me and evicted whoever was sitting next to me to sit beside me. He said he couldn’t believe how fast I had gotten to where I was, and that he had treated me so badly in the past. He was ashamed of his actions and he promised to respect me moving forward. I said thank you and left it at that. But I made a quiet promise to myself to never ever work with Harvey Weinstein.

Not long after I won the Academy Award in 2014, I received an offer to play a role in one of the Weinstein Company’s forthcoming films. I knew I would not do it simply because it was the Weinstein Company, but I did not feel comfortable telling this to anybody. I turned down the role, but Harvey would not take no for an answer. While at Cannes, he insisted on meeting with me in person. I agreed to do it only because my agent would be present. In the meeting, he was honest about intending to persuade me to do his movie. I told him I simply did not feel it was a role I needed to play. He said he was open to making it bigger, more significant, maybe they could add a love scene. He said if I did this one for him, he would do another one for me — basically guaranteeing backing a star-vehicle film for me. I ran out of ways of politely saying no and so did my agent. I was so exasperated by the end that I just kept quiet. Harvey finally accepted my position and expressed that he still wanted to work with me at some point. “Thank you, I hope so,” I lied.

And that was the last of my personal encounters with Harvey Weinstein. I share all of this now because I know now what I did not know then. I was part of a growing community of women who were secretly dealing with harassment by Harvey Weinstein. But I also did not know that there was a world in which anybody would care about my experience with him. You see, I was entering into a community that Harvey Weinstein had been in, and even shaped, long before I got there. He was one of the first people I met in the industry, and he told me, “This is the way it is.” And wherever I looked, everyone seemed to be bracing themselves and dealing with him, unchallenged. I did not know that things could change. I did not know that anybody wanted things to change. So my survival plan was to avoid Harvey and men like him at all costs, and I did not know that I had allies in this.

Fortunately for me, I have not dealt with any such incidents in the business since. And I think it is because all the projects I have been a part of have had women in positions of power, along with men who are feminists in their own right who have not abused their power. What I am most interested in now is combating the shame we go through that keeps us isolated and allows for harm to continue to be done. I wish I had known that there were women in the business I could have talked to. I wish I had known that there were ears to hear me. That justice could be served. There is clearly power in numbers. I thank the women who have spoken up and given me the strength to revisit this unfortunate moment in my past.

Our business is complicated because intimacy is part and parcel of our profession; as actors we are paid to do very intimate things in public. That’s why someone can have the audacity to invite you to their home or hotel and you show up. Precisely because of this we must stay vigilant and ensure that the professional intimacy is not abused. I hope we are in a pivotal moment where a sisterhood — and brotherhood of allies — is being formed in our industry. I hope we can form a community where a woman can speak up about abuse and not suffer another abuse by not being believed and instead being ridiculed. That’s why we don’t speak up — for fear of suffering twice, and for fear of being labeled and characterized by our moment of powerlessness. Though we may have endured powerlessness at the hands of Harvey Weinstein, by speaking up, speaking out and speaking together, we regain that power. And we hopefully ensure that this kind of rampant predatory behavior as an accepted feature of our industry dies here and now.

Now that we are speaking, let us never shut up about this kind of thing. I speak up to make certain that this is not the kind of misconduct that deserves a second chance. I speak up to contribute to the end of the conspiracy of silence.”


I’m so happy Lupita shared her story and I have so much more respect for her and commend her for sticking by her morals. It’s disgusting that Harvey would even try something with her while his kids were in the other room, what a sick bastard

Pixar COCO ¡Viva México!

Ok, ok, so I recently went to see the movie and let me tell you something… it’s more than just a movie, es una obra de arte.

I’m not joking, really, my expectations went beyond what I thought. It was amazing in every way. Well, maybe I’m gonna make some spoilers, but I found myself in need of telling you my experience as a Mexican point of view.

Because yes, I’m proudly Mexican.

  • 1. Estás muy flaco, ¡come más!

This is funny. 

In each family, at least in mine, it is normal that your grandmother wants to feed you because, according to her, you are very thin. And this reminded me a lot of my grandmother, whom I sweetly called Yaya. And yes, she is a strong, very determined woman who always fills my plate with lots of food. 

But my Yaya’s food is always the best.

Originally posted by musicalhog

  • 2. El maravilloso ambiente

There was no time to take the eyes off every scene, every color, every sound, literally. In the land of the living, the colors were relatively balanced, since it is a village, when dusk comes, which illuminates each house in a beautiful orange color. The colorful cemeteries and ofrendas captivated me greatly, for the passion with which we adorn the tombs of our departed is more than a tradition; is a connection that even Death itself can never take away.

Originally posted by musicalhog

  • 3. ¡Música maestro!

My God, I can’t believe Disney has started its own theme with Mariachi music. 

AY, AY, AY!!

That. was. Phenomenal. 

The rest of the film, when I started to hear the voices of each character singing, dancing or even playing guitar, I almost felt like jumping and singing, clapping and dancing. If anything you must be sure, is that when a Mexican hears that kind of music, mariachi, trumpets, violins, the shoe, the drums, gives him an infinite desire to be celebrating forever.

Originally posted by wrlockbane

  • 4. La Chancla

La abuelita threatening everyone with la chancla. 

That’s typical of mexican family. No, seriously. Once my Yaya threw me la chancla voladora when I was little and I was running and they had yelled at me to stop. That could not be missing!

If you have never been threatened with la chancla, or much less have hit you with it, trust me, as a mexican you had no childhood.

Originally posted by auroras-boreales

  • 5. La Llorona

Originally, the song La Llorona is sung by Chavela Vargas. If you have never heard of it, I strongly recommend that you do so. That was totally amazing! 

“Ay, de mí llorona. Llorona, de azul celeste. Ay, de mí llorona. Llorona, de azul celeste…”

“Y aunque me cueste la vida, llorona, no dejaré de quererte. Y aunque me cueste la vida, llorona, no dejaré de quererte…”

Miguel’s great-great-grandmother sang it with such sentiment made me shed tears, because I’ve heard it since I was a little girl. My grandmother sometimes sings it when she’s cooking.

  • 6. Ay, Ernesto, no te rajes

Yes, yes, YES!!!

I actually knew that Ernesto de la Cruz was inspired by Pedro Infante and Jorge Negrete. OH, MY GOD! I love this man so much!

Originally posted by andyjwest

Maybe you can remember Jorge with the song Ay, Jalisco no te rajes! (From the movie The Tree Caballeros) There are other songs that I recommend you to hear. But my favorite has always been that.

Yo soy Mexicano, Mexico Lindo, Ella, Entre suspiro y suspiro, El Abandonado, and more…

  • 7. Alebrijes

Actually, this was a very original idea that I loved. 

Alebrijes are imaginary beings made up of physiognomic elements of different animals, a combination of several animals, not only fantastic but also real.
They’re handicrafts made with the technique of the cartonería, that they are painted with joyful colors and vibrant.

Alebrijes are one of the many wonders of Mexican art and a pride and the hallmark of Oaxaca. Having a alebrije or a collection of them at home is considered good luck and it is said that happiness will accompany anyone who owns one of these works of art. In addition, owning a alebrije is to possess the best of Mexican art, so vast, so colorful, so full of life and a beauty recognized internationally.

  • 8. La Familia es primero

Even though The Book of Life is also another of my favorite movies, something made me even love more Coco than this. 

Family.

Originally posted by disneymusic

It may sound a little… cliché, but for me the family has always been the most important thing. In fact, I quite identified with Miguel’s family. I could see in my own flesh not only my grandmother, but my uncles, my cousins and my other relatives. We don’t live in one house, we live in different places.

Traditionally my grandfathers are doctors, and they wanted my mother to be a doctor, but she preferred to study theater just as my father studied music. And there could be no doubt that her own daughter would also want to be an artist.

When I first went to Europe to visit the Universities, my grandmother, who repudiated the idea of being an artist, came to me one day and said to me: “It’s your life, you decide what you want and what you choose will be always good for me.”

The love of the family is so different and so unique, that to a certain point it made me realize that I do not need love of a couple if I have people that I can always talk to and who can support me too.

  • 9. Recuérdame

This song was definitely the best of the best. Full of feelings, full of dedication, I should applaud the effort for composers, I haven’t had the privilege of hearing it in English, but I think you should also listen to it in Spanish, and I say it because the song sounds infinitely cool. and with the voice of the characters, made my skin prickly and shed more tears.

“Hasta que en mis brazos tú estés… Recuérdame…”

  • 10. Mama Coco

This, without a doubt, is my favorite. The entire character of mama Coco.

She may not appear more than some scenes from the entire film, but she is a very important and very captivating character. The relationship she has with Miguel is very special, an old mind woman and a big-hearted young man, the love of grandparents or great-grandparents is so strong and has no limits…

I have lived with my great-grandparents since I was two years old, and I loved them with all my heart just like them to me.

They are no longer with me…

But that does not mean that I have forgotten them. I remember them every day, every moment, when I least expect it, I sometimes dream about them. Sometimes I ask my grandparents how they were as young people, and I could imagine their lives in black and white films, where they wore dresses and suits.

The times of my great-grandfathers were hard, but were also beautiful, they enjoyed their entire life and were happy. Mama Coco was able to leave the world knowing that her father loved her and sang for the last time. Recuérdame with her great-grandchild.

What a beautiful scene, so simple, so lovely, that speaks for much.

Originally posted by musicalhog

Believe it or not, I loved Coco more than The Book of Life.

But I don’t think there has to be some anger cause somehow they seem to be something in como. For God’s sake, they do NOT seem at all, at least of the plot. 

Is more than obvious that the producers and the cast made a mega effort to make the film an original work, and yes, it is original, cause there were so many unexpected twists, plus that, again, made me cry.

Don’t hate Coco, really, the movie is worth seeing, and it is such a beautiful and so cute way of putting the family theme. 

The Book of Life talked about fear in being yourself: there is nothing wrong of being yourself and always follow your heart, while Coco talks about that it is okay to follow your dreams, but also think about your family, think about something that goes more beyond your expectations, but what you choose will always have the support of your family.

Two films focusing on Mexico, focusing on El Dia de los Muertos, two films that use direct themes, but that somehow made me realize what Life is like.

So, go ahead, Vive tu momento.

Originally posted by musicalhog

BTS replaced you. - pt.3

[pt.1] [pt.2] [pt.3] [pt.END]

Originally posted by hobixing

“Ah… they did? What did they say?” Hongseok passes my phone to me as I read the messages I haven’t opened for the last few hours. Seeing them still hurt because it still feels insincere, as if I was alone in this friendship. 

“Are you going to reply?” Hongseok asked while taking one of my hand in his from under the blanket. It was barely even 6am and I wasn’t down for the drama just yet. 

“Not yet, let’s have cake.” I say smiling, and dragging him with me over to the kitchen still with my phone in one hand.

I took the cake out from the fridge and set it on the table between Hongseok and I. He placed a candle in the centre and lit it, turning the light off before he took his seat. The room was dark and the winter sun hasn’t yet risen and so all that was left to light up the room was the moonlight seeping through the gaps of the blinds and the orange candlelight. A few seconds after, the room was filled with his voice - he sang happy birthday and I couldn’t help but wear a smile on my face. His voice was pretty and I honestly couldn’t thank him enough for doing all this for me. When the short song came to an end we both clapped, I clapped to applaud his singing and he clapped to applaud me fo coming to life twenty-one years ago.

“Make a wish Y/N.” 

“Wishes don’t come true Hongseok.” 

“I’ll make sure this one does, as long as it’s realistic and I can afford it.” He laughed as I smiled. 

“There’s nothing I want.” 

“But there is, I can tell.”

“I just want a shoulder to lean on and not be a burden to people.” 

“Done!” I laughed at his enthusiasm.

“I’ll always be your shoulder to lean on, and you’re never going to be a burden to me.”

“It makes me feel as though I’m replacing them because that’s exactly what they said to me five years ago.” 

“I’m not asking to take their place silly, but just know that I’m always going to be here for you.” He grabbed my hand again from across the table and rubbed his thumb on the back of my hand. I wanted to cry in this moment because I was so grateful of him and his words. 

“I don’t deserve someone like you in my life.” 

“Idiot, I told you this already. You deserve more and better but you’re stuck with me now.” 

“I like the sound of that though.” We both laughed and enjoyed one another’s company. Until my phone dinged, showing a notification from the group chat. I un-muted the conversation but didn’t think they’d be up to say anything.

Keep reading

Ninnie’s Big Fat Writing Masterlist!

Headcanons/Short Scenarios:

S/O Pregnancy Headcanons:

Winter Chill (Winter Drabbles):

Tech is Against The Chocobros:

Oneshots/Longer Reads:

~Masterlist blog page~

waking up the wolf inside

[here’s the full story, thanks for reading!]

-

Derek Hale is two hours late. At each passing minute, Stiles feels angrier and the only reason he hasn’t left is because Derek needs to come home at some point and when he does, Stiles is going to yell at him so hard he’s going to give him this interview just to send Stiles away.

Stiles can be pretty annoying when he wants to, that’s how he gets most of his job done.

Derek Hale though, he’s been fucking infuriating. For starters he lives in the middle of nowhere, Stiles got lost twice before he found someone who actually knew where Derek’s freaking cabin is. And there’s also the fact that he’s a nobody - Stiles’ only picture of him is from his High School graduation, like, fifteen years ago.

And that’s the most fascinating thing – not many people know about him but the ones who do can’t stop praising his work. The guy is an angel, but instead of protecting people he protects wolves. According to Scott’s boss – who’s like, the one person who has seen Derek in person and can attest he’s real – Derek has a vet degree, doesn’t like people and built his own cabin in the woods. To live amongst the wolves.

Stiles needs to interview this guy. At first because he got curious about a thirty-one year old guy living alone and now it’s about pride. He doesn’t just spend two hours outside someone’s house, especially when it’s snowing.

“Come on.” He groans. It’s freaking Alaska. Angel or not – Derek Hale is also a huge dick.

Stiles is beginning to think about breaking into the guy’s house (he can’t feel his toes) when he hears a car and a minute later a battered truck is parking next to Stiles’ rental car.

The man who steps out looks nothing like the High School picture Stiles found. For starters he look like a mountain man with a beard that does nothing but make him look hotter, the jeans doesn’t leave much to imagination either when it comes to his ass and the huge winter coat only accentuates his broad shoulders.

Stiles swallows. “Hey!” He yells, watching as Derek opens the back door. “Derek Hale?” He can’t hide his groan when Derek barely spares him a glance. “Hey, it’s freaking freezing here, you know?”

Derek lets out a groan of his own as he lifts something in his arms and steps away from the car. “I know.” He walks towards the house and as he gets closer, Stiles notices Derek is carrying a wolf. “Now, help me out here, yeah?”

Stiles doesn’t even think twice before dropping his bag and stepping closer. “What can I do?”

“Grab the key,” Derek instructs, “it’s in my back pocket.”

Later, Stiles will want to hide his face in embarrassment but now he can only think about the poor wolf whining in Derek’s arms as he touches Derek’s ass to find the key to open Derek’s house.

Once inside, Derek deposits the wolf on the floor, wrapping him further with blankets and asks Stiles to light up the fire as he goes around the house collecting things. “Is he going to be okay?” Stiles asks as Derek kneels in front of the wolf and runs a soothing hand over his head.

“Hopefully.” Derek answers. “And it’s a girl.” He tells Stiles. “She’s in labor.”

What.” Stiles squeaks. “Really? But –”

“In the kitchen,” Derek interrupts him, “get some hot water, and close the fucking door.”

Stiles blinks, watches as Derek tells her everything is going to be okay. She’s obviously uncomfortable, but stops squirming when Derek smiles and runs his hands over her belly.

Water.” Derek growls.

“Right.” Stiles gets on his feet. He so didn’t sign up for this.


“So,” he collapses on the floor, “does this happen a lot?”

Derek collapses next to him, eyes on the mother wolf and her six pups. “Is this part of your interview?”

Stiles snorts and rolls his eyes. “No, this is just me trying not to freak out.” He turns to look at Derek – his eyes are green, he realizes, and beautiful, he adds mentally.

“No, this doesn’t happen often.” Derek answers, finally. “Thankfully.”

Stiles nods and smiles when Derek turn to him. “You’re amazing.” He blurts out and Derek blinks, surprised. “Anyway,” Stiles shakes his head, tries to pretend the butterflies in his stomach are just from the adrenaline rush, “we’ll have to postpone the interview, but I think that’s justifiable.” He gets up, looks at his hands and realizes they are covered in blood. Ew. “Uh, can I use your bathroom before I go?”

“Go?” Derek asks, standing up too.

“I’m gonna get a hotel in town.” The nearest town is two hours away, but what can you do? He glances at the sleeping wolves. It’s not like this was Derek’s fault. “I think.”

“Don’t be stupid.” Derek says, bluntly. Stiles snorts – yeah, Derek really doesn’t have a way with people. “I have a spare bedroom.”

Stiles smiles. “Thank you.” He says. “I don’t really like driving in the snow.”

“Who does.” Derek says, asks maybe. Stiles still doesn’t know him, but as he follows Derek up the stairs, he realizes he really wants to.

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nochu unsolved (m)

Pairing:  Jungkook x Reader
Genre: boyfriend!jungkook , smut, comedy, fluff
Warnings: thigh riding, dry humping, panty fetish, creampie, graveyard sex, mention of past emo Jungkook lmao
Word Count:  8k+
Summary:  cryptid hunting with your boyfriend doesn’t go quite as planned…

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The part of the deep web that we aren’t supposed to see 

Story by Mr_Outlaw_

I’ll assume you all know about the deep web. Well, what you’ve heard is true, it’s not a great place. While some people are there to score legal weed or firearms, or even out of sheer curiosity, others… well they’re obviously not up to anything good. But I’m not here to talk about those sickos. I’m here to talk about what lies beyond that point. The more cryptic and unexplainable part of the internet. The part that nobody’s really supposed to see.

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Bruised (Richie/Eddie) 1/12

Summary: It’s 1993 and the summer from many years ago is dead and gone. Many have drifted apart from the Losers club and its at the point where there is no club at all. The atmosphere is cold just like the winter months and the only blushes to be found are the ones that are caused from the piercing spikes of cold that heat skin up. Being a teenage boy is hard; especially for the two boys that now count each other as strangers. In which both boys make a plan, but both disrupt each others.

Warning(s): Suicide attempt?? , depression, mental illness’, mixture of fluff and angst throughout the series, homophobic slurs

A/N: Hi!! welcome to part 1 of IDK HOW MANY but ayy!! Honestly, i’M MAKING A TAG LIST FOR THIS SERIES SO IF ANYONE WHO DOESN’T WANNA FOLLOW ME OR WANTS TO BE NOTIFIED JUST ASK!!

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12

Richie Tozier brought the cigarette between his lips, letting the toxic smoke fill his decaying lungs and pulse throughout his insides and swirls around in each crevice of his body. He then takes away the cancer stick, after a moment blowing out the toxic waste into the thin November air.

Beverly Marsh raised an eyebrow at him, sitting across from the much taller boy on the brick wall with her own cigarette between her fingers. She watched as the smoke faded into nothing, sighing lightly as she proceeded to watch her best friend smoke away.

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ARE YOU STILL SCREAMING ABOUT THOR: RAGNAROK? BECAUSE I’M STILL SCREAMING ABOUT IT. I need so much slice-of-life on the ship fic, I need so much kissing-and-more resolution to the hug scene, I need so much speculation on what happens when they get to where they’re going, I need so much about the various friendships forming, I need so much fic about a whole bunch of people crammed into a relatively small ship for months and the hilarious and awful things that happen because of it. AND FANDOM IS DEFINITELY ON A ROLL WITH IT, THERE’S MORE GREAT STUFF.  (Part one is here!)

THOR: RAGNAROK FIC RECS:
The Breath Between Regrets by Vera (Vera_DragonMuse), thor/loki & valkyrie & heimdall & hulk & korg, ragnarok spoilers, 9.5k
   The journey to Midgard should take a year and a day. Long enough for many things.
What the Thunder Said by kyrilu, thor/loki, ragnarok spoilers, ~1k
   Days after the battle, Thor’s skin is still sparking lightning.
the silver forked sky by powerfulsound, thor/loki, ragnarok spoilers, nsfw, 1.2k
   There is a storm, sparking under Thor’s skin. Attracted to it, a magpie to shiny things, Loki is helpless in Thor’s wake.
Reunion by riventhorn, thor/loki, nsfw, ragnarok spoilers, 1.3k
   After so long apart, Loki can’t help being drawn to Thor.
Privilege to love by will_thewisp, thor/loki, NSFW, ragnarok spoilers, 2.6k
   He didn’t know why Loki felt the need to fight him on every ground, to hide things that had no business being hidden, but he was determined to meet him on every occasion. To Thor it seemed that Loki fought with himself as much as with Thor.
followed you down by homovikings, thor/loki & heimdall & valkyrie & tony & sif & cast, ragnarok spoilers, 5.3k
   It’s Asgard but it isn’t.
drowning on your shore by psikeval, thor/loki, ragnarok spoilers, 1.3k
   Loki, entirely solid, does not flicker and does not flinch.
In my Arms by wetdandelions, thor/loki, NSFW, ragnarok spoilers, 1.2k
   “I’m here,” says Loki. Set after the end of Thor: Ragnarok. PWP. SPOILERS.
In the Flesh by hjbender, thor/loki, NSFW, ragnarok spoilers, intersex!loki, 6.3k
   Loki stares back, gives the stopper a gentle toss. It sparkles briefly in the air before he catches it again. “There isn’t anything else you’d like to give me? Nothing you’d like to say? Because”—he spreads his arms and smiles invitingly, both hands suddenly empty—“here I am.”
Nowhere Is Home Unless We’re Both In the Same Place by Velocity_Owl87, thor/loki, ragnarok spoilers, 1.3k
   After the dust has settled, Thor realizes the implications of Kingship and Asgard’s future mean for him as the new King of Asgard. Thankfully, he doesn’t have to grapple with the situation alone, at least.
Heroes Run Towards Their Problems by Naiveandoptimistic, thor & loki & valkyrie & hulk & korg & cast, ragnarok spoilers, 1.6k
   Post-Ragnarok. Valkyrie is a drunken hot mess. Loki conceals, Hulk worries, and Thor gives some wisdom.
Not an Illusion by janto321 (FaceofMer), thor/loki, NSFW, ragnarok spoilers, ~1k
   Loki and Thor find comfort in one another
black sheep and mischief by grim_lupine, thor & loki, ragnarok spoilers, 3.2k
   A bird alights on Thor’s shoulder and pecks his cheek twice, hard enough to make him wince. “What are you doing?” it warbles in his ear. “Wondering what my brother is doing up at this hour, little bird,” Thor replies. “Will you go ask him for me?”
Never Doubt That I Love You by ValkyrieShepard, thor/loki & heimdall & valkyrie & hulk & cast, NSFW, ragnarok spoilers, 10.6k
   After Thor’s proposal, Loki pulls away. As Thor is busy trying to rule his people, Loki finds him again, and the two of them scout a possible planet for their people where Thor tries to get through his brother’s walls. There is much Loki has to work through.
after you, i dont know what i believe in by CallicoKitten, thor/loki & valkyrie & bruce & heimdall & cast, ragnarok spoilers, 9.6k
   aka, the long road to midgard
Crossroads by kyrilu, loki & heimdall, ragnarok spoilers, ~1k
   As Loki leaves Sakaar with a shipload of former prisoners, Heimdall decides to ‘visit.’
victory runes by spookykingdomstarlight, thor/loki, ragnarok spoilers, 3.3k
   A snake couldn’t change its colors, try as he might, trust his own intentions as he wanted to. At this moment, legs braced on either side of Thor’s lap, he couldn’t imagine doing anything to undermine Thor’s rule, his wants, his needs. But tomorrow was another day and Loki’s whims were mercurial.

full details + recs under the cut!

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“Hey, Barold?” 

“Yes, dear?”

“Are you dead?”

Barry’s head pokes into the dining room table, the Neverwinter Times folded into his hands. He looks down at himself, pokes his own nose. “I don’t think so? I don’t look dead.”

Lup looks him up and down, then says, “Yep, you really don’t.”

“Why?”

In response, Lup takes the package she’s been holding, grabs it by the ends, and turns it on its head. Letters - bundled into packs bound with black ropes, spare ones scratched on torn napkins, envelopes-within-envelopes written in deep dark ink - spill all over the table.

“What are these?”

“Consolation letters,” Lup says, grinning. She plucks the first one off the table, slits it with a brightly-painted red nail, and begins to read. “‘Dear Lup Taaco, my cult and I would like to express our condolences for your loss.’ Aww, that’s so sweet, they’re cult-bonding.”

Barry narrows his eyes. “Is that a necromantic cult or a religious one?”

“Dunno.” She tosses it aside, picks up another one. “‘Dear IPRE, sorry for your loss. We hope Barry feels better soon. We know most people don’t feel better after being dead but he’s done it before.’”

Barry drifts forward, looking at the stack in apprehension and slight awe. He picks one up at random, skims it, and turns white. “Why do these people think I’m dead?”

“Don’t know, but there’s definitely a consensus, babe,” Lup says. “Aww, someone sent a bunch of dead flowers! I’ll pass them onto Merle.”

“Lup, no, this is weird. This - this is weird.”

“Yeah, for sure,” she says, leafing through the next letters. The mound grows intimidatingly the more Barry looks at it. “What did you do?”

“I - I don’t know.”

“Huh. Maybe someone started a dumb rumor. You never know the kinda shit floating around Faerun these days.”

True? Okay. Okay, no, this is just another mystery. Maybe there are clues in the truly preposterous number of letters sitting on the table. Carefully, Barry picks the first one up, a letter wrapped in a satin ribbon and addressed in dark ink so black it almost looks tar. He tears it open gently and sets the envelope aside, then begins to read.

Dear Miss Lup,

I’m really really sorry your husband is dead. I want you to know that my mom and my dad love him too and that if you ever need someone to talk to because death is a really really bad thing then you can send us a letter any time. I’d give you my mom’s frequency but I don’t know it.

Love,

Carnila

Below is an address. It’s from the far east, a remote village that Barry only knows because he passed through there while hunting for Lup a couple of years into his search.

He’s not freaking out so much as very, very confused. He’s certain he’s alive. Pulse beating in his throat and everything. So why does everyone think he’s dead?

He goes through a couple more without finding any clues. Most are of the same vein - sorry for your loss, hope you’re doing better. A couple recommend Lup some therapists in Neverwinter. Two cite him as his inspiration for practicing necromancy. He’s gonna need to pay those fans a personal visit. Probably with his scythe.

“Barry?” Lup says after a little while. She’s set the letters down and is now looking at him strangely.

He opens another one. This one’s written in blue ink. All the others have been black. Really goes to show what kind of person picked Barold J. Bluejeans, lich and necromancer-turned-reaper extraordinaire, as their favorite of the seven birds. “Yes, dear?”

“When you died, you picked up your bodies, right?”

Barry freezes. He thinks back to those ten years on his own, dying repeatedly. He’d had a process - he’d freak out, flicker a little bit, and pull himself together - with admirable speed and courage, of course. Then he’d grab his jeans (can’t leave those behind), a couple hairs, a bunch of blood (which wasn’t typically too hard to collect), the coin, some supplies, and take off for Wave Echo Cave.

He’d leave the body, though. He didn’t need it.

“Barold J. Bluejeans,” she snaps, setting down her letter with a thwack on the table. “Did you leave your corpses strewn all around this continent?”

“I only needed a little blood to make a new body!” he yelps. “I was a lich, it wasn’t like I could pick up my body and carry it with me!”

“You managed to keep the same clothes for ten years!”

“I’ve had these jeans for a hundred years, they’re precious to me!”

“That’s fair,” Lup says, grinning too widely to be angry. “So you’re telling me, these people stumbled across your dead body and thought it was you?”

“Probably,” he replies sheepishly. “I mean, in my defense, I didn’t think anyone would find it. I kinda fell off a mountain range.”

“And you didn’t go collect them when you got an actual body?” she asks, gesturing toward him.

“I was a little busy creating your body.”

Lup sighs, exasperated. She throws an envelope at him. It drifts unimpressively down to the table. “This is it, Barold. This is what you get when you don’t show up at press conferences ever. People start to think you’re literally dead.”

“I hate them,” he mumbles. “Too many spotlights and reporters and questions. I get all sweaty.”

“You’re one of the seven birds, babe. People want to know your story.”

“They already do, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, but they want to hear it from you.” She glances over her shoulder at the Taako Time™ calendar hanging on their wall and grins. “Babe, there’s one tomorrow and you’re going.”

“I don’t wanna,” he whines. “Lup, they…they suck. All the reporters and the microphones and the spotlights….”

“No arguments, dear,” Lup says, standing and crossing her arms over his head to rest her cheek on his hair. “Lucretia hates them too and she goes.”

“She was the Director of the Bureau of Balance, she’s good at that shit now,” Barry grumbles. “Besides, Davenport doesn’t have to answer questions.”

“Davenport’s at sea, babe. Getting to interview him is like finding a Shiny.”

Barry groans, tugs on a strand of Lup’s hair. It’s dyed red toward the ends. “If you loved me you wouldn’t make me go.”

“I love you,” Lup affirms, “so I’m making you go.”

“Can I at least - ”

“No, you can’t wear your tuxedo T-shirt. You have to wear the sweater vest I bought you.”

Barry slumps his head toward the table. Lup slides down his neck to rest her chin on his shoulder. “Cycle forty or sixty-eight,” he asks, words muffled by the table.

“Forty,” she decides. “I won’t make you do sequins.”

“Thank the Queen.” He straightens. There’s ink on his forehead. Lup laughs, then licks a thumb and wipes it away. “Gross.”

The letters flare in the corner of his vision. Sighing, Barry tugs Lup onto his lap. She sits with a laugh, gleeful and teasing, and reaches reaching for a letter of her own. Leaning her temple against his, she slices open another letter, and begins to read.

“Wow, babe,” she says after a couple minutes. “You’re really an inspiration for some up-and-coming dark magic babies.”

“I know,” he sighs. She chuckles and ruffles his hair affectionately. “I’m gonna have to go talk to them.”

Lup’s counterproposal is cut off by her Stone of Farspeech buzzing against her collarbone. She picks up without looking and says “Heyo, Blupjeans household, whaddya want?”

Barold J. Bluejeans!” screeches her brother’s voice through the receiver. Barry jumps. “You wanna explain to me why my dining table is fuckin’ swamped with condolence letters?!

Lup and Barry turn to stare at each other in horror. Then, right on cue, Barry’s Stone rings. He checks it. It’s Magnus’s signal. They stare at it.

“Oh Gods,” Lup groans, and picks up.

Barry? Barry, are you okay?” comes Magnus’s voice. There are a couple of dogs barking in the background, as there always are when Magnus calls. “I heard you were dead, I know it sucks, like, serious ass to be without a body, I wanted to check in, and also tell you that I’ve got a ticket for Neverwinter on hold if you need me down there - ” he says.

Lup and Barry exchange glances. Barry begins to laugh.

Je T’aime, Mon Cher Eddie

For @time-for-tozier who came up with this idea, I hope you like it!!

Eddie watched as the clock’s minute hand moved towards the number 12, making a ticking noise as it wet round. He was so fixated that he jumped when the bell rang, the cue for people around him to pack up and leave the room.

He slammed his yellow note book shut and shoved it, and his pencil, into his backpack, before running out of the classroom to meet up with the other losers.

He sprinted down the hallways, bumping into several people and nearly tripping twice, before he reached the door. He swung the door open and walked to the bike rack around the side of the school.

“Hey Eddie,” Ben called to him as he walked over.

“Hey guys,” Eddie took in the positions of his friends. Mike was sat on the ground, fiddling with his bike, it kept breaking. Ben was sat on a bench about a meter away from the bike rack, a book resting open on his lap. Beverly was sitting on her bike seat, hands already gripping the handlebars as if she was in a hurry to go. Bill and Stan were stood next to each other, however, Eddie noticed, much too close to be considered normal. And Richie, well, he was being his usual self. He was hung upside down on one the metal bannister of a nearby stair case, dark hair brushing the ground.

“Eds! You finally arrived!” Richie near shouted bouncing his way back over to the group. “Can we go now?”

The losers collectively rolled their eyes and grabbed their bikes, climbing on and cycling towards the woods.

Their was a field there that they had claimed as their new hangout. It was completely secluded and surrounded by trees. In the spring, the ground was covered in daisies, Richie loved it, and prided himself on making “the best daisy chains in Derry”. In the Summer and Autumn, the grass was green and soft. And in the Winter, the Loser’s decided to just hand out at each other’s houses instead, with the careful avoidance of the Tozier, Marsh and Kaspbrak residences.

They were all laying on the grass. Beverly had her head resting on Ben’s lap as he sat cross legged playing with her hair. Stan and Bill were laying shoulder to shoulder, Mike was spread out like a starfish, and Richie was resting his head on Eddie’s stomach.

They were peaceful.

“Richie, I couldn’t help but to notice that you were in my French class this morning.” Bev spoke up, breaking the silence.

She knew there had to be a reason behind his sudden appearance in the class. She knew that she took it so that one day, when she was old enough, she could move to France and never look back. She knew that Stan’s parents wanted him to focus more on his religion. She knew that Ben was already fluent in the language and didn’t need to take a class. She knew that Bill found it too hard because of his stutter. She knew that Mike and Eddie simply didn’t want to take the subject, seeing no reason for it.

So what was Richie’s reason?

“You take French?” Eddie chuckled, sitting up. “Since when?”

“Well, obviously since this morning dipshit. I already know how to say some stuff. Such as,” Richie cleared his throat. “Ta mère aime ça dans le cul.”

Bev’s head shot up. “Beep Beep Richie.”

“W-what did he say?” Bill asked.

“Do you really want me to tell you?” Bev whined. The rest of the group, bar Richie and Ben, nodded. She sighed. “He said “your mother likes it up the ass.”

Groans of “Richie”, and “really?” We passed around as Richie smirked.

“Hey Rich? Do you know anything that’s not rude?” Eddie asked.

“Umm yeah,” Richie replied. “Eddie, tu as de beaux yeux.” (You have beautiful eyes)

“What does that mean?”

“Ahh, my dear Eddie Spaghetti, that is a secret.”

“Don’t call me that. Bev? Can you tell me what he said?” Eddie asked Beverly, who was staring at Richie with a strange look on her face. She stared for a few more moments before turning to Eddie.

“Sorry Eddie, I don’t know what he said.”

————

The next morning Richie bounced into school with too much energy for 7am on a Tuesday.

“Good morning, mes petits choux.” He smiled, leaning his chin on Eddie’s head.

“Richie, if I may ask, why did you just call us ‘your little cabbages’?” Ben questioned.

“I did it because I felt like it.” Just then the bell rang for class.

“Um, Richie? Can I talk you you for a sec? In private?” Beverly asked. Richie nodded, he loved the girl like family, they both dealt with similar issues in their home lives. “Do you like Eddie? You know, as in like him?”

Richie blushed. “No, where did you get that idea?”

“You’re always hugging him, you never stop staring at him, and yesterday you told him, in French, that he had beautiful eyes.”

“You said you didn’t understand what I said!”

“Well I lied, I guessed that you didn’t really want me to tell him, otherwise you would have simply said it in English.” She sighed. “Richie, what’s the real reason you started taking French class? You know I’m not going to judge you.”

Richie sighed. “I’ve been dealing with so much at home and then I come to school and he,” Richie leant back against the wall. “He makes me feel safe, and, I dunno, loved I guess? I just wanted a way to tell him how I feel and explain what’s happening at home. But it was way too painful to say it all in English, so I thought it’d be easier to tell him in another language.”

“Oh, Richie.” Beverly wrapped him in a hug. “That’s so sweet.” Richie gave her a half smile, and they began walking to their first class, which happened to be French.

———-

Eddie was just dozing off when he hears the taps at his window. At first he was scared that it was a leper, or a murderer, but he was assured it wasn’t when someone spoke up from behind the glass and curtains.

“Eddie? You awake?” Eddie pushed he covers off and got out of bed, he walked over to the window and opened the curtains.

The person at his window was Richie.

“C-can I come in?” Eddie could see the tears making their way steadily down Richie’s cheeks. He pushed the window open as quietly as he could and Richie clambered in.

“Rich, are you okay? What happened?” Instead of the answer Eddie knew he wasn’t going to get, Richie clutched him in a hug, openly sobbing.

Eddie guided Richie over to his bed and lates him down so that Richie’s head was resting above his heart. He never got answers, but he knew how to calm his best friend down. He liked listening to Eddie’s heartbeat, to confirm he wasn’t alone, and he like it when Eddie ran his fingers through his hair.

That’s exactly what Eddie was doing when Richie stopped crying and mumbled something.

“I’m sorry? I didn’t catch that.”

“Je t'aime. S’il te plaît, ne me quitte jamais.” (I love you. Please never leave me.)

Richie fell asleep soon after that, Eddie had no idea what the sleeping boy had said to him.

Over the next few months, Richie refused to stop talking in French whilst around Eddie. Beverly noticed he would constantly be blushing whenever Richie spoke the foreign words, in a thick accent. All of the Losers agreed that it was The only good impression Richie Tozier had ever done. During these months, Bev had to put up with Richie’s constant pining for Eddie.

She would always catch him calling Eddie a ‘magnifique petit tournesol’ (gorgeous little sunflower) or telling Eddie that he ‘avait l'air si mignon dans ce pull’ (looked so cute in that sweater’. He even said ‘Mon Amour.’ (My love) a few times

She was fed up of it. She knew without a doubt that Eddie had the same feelings towards Richie. So, during their 5th period geography class, Bev gave Richie a stern talking to.

“You need to tell him.”

“What?”

“Eddie! You need to tell him how you feel! I’m like 99% sure he reciprocates your feelings.”

“Yes Bev, but what about the 1% hmm?” Beverly rolled her eyes, they spent the rest of the lesson in silence.

A few weeks passed and Richie and Eddie found themselves alone at Loser’s Meadow, as the gang had dubbed it, watching the sun set.

“Eddie, I’m about to ramble in French and you just need to listen, you don’t need to understand.”

Eddie furrowed his brow. “Oh, okay.” He secretly loved it when Richie spoke French, however, he’d never admit it.

“Vous ne comprenez pas un mot que je dis en ce moment, et honnêtement? Je pense que c'est une bonne chose.

(You don’t understand a word im saying right now, and honestly? I think thats a good thing.)

J'avais besoin d'un moyen de pouvoir te dire ce que je ressens sans que tu me détestes.

(I needed a way to be able to tell you how i feel without you hating me.)

Parce que je sais que tu ne m'aimes pas en retour. Qui pourrait m'aimer de retour? Je suis un morceau de merde sans valeur.

(Because I know you don’t love me back. Who could love me back? I’m a worthless piece of shit.)

Vous voyez, vous n'avez absolument aucune idée de ce que je dis. En ce moment, tes joues sont d'un rouge vif avec combien tu rougis, et ton sourire n'a jamais été aussi beau.

(See, you have absolutely no idea what I’m saying. Right now, your cheeks are bright red with how much you’re blushing, and your smile has never been more beautiful.)

Tant que je continue à sourire et à parler, ce regard restera sur votre visage. Je ne veux jamais que tu arrêtes de sourire.

(As long as I keep smiling and talking, that look will stay on your face. I never want you to stop smiling.)

Ok, maintenant pour la vraie merde.

(Okay, now for the real shit.)

Eddie Kaspbrak, je t'aime depuis que nous avons neuf ans. Vous avez toujours été mon refuge, pour les nuits où il n'est pas sûr de rentrer à la maison, ou j'en ai fini avec le monde.

(Eddie Kaspbrak, I have loved you since we were 9 years old. You have always been my safe haven, for nights when it isn’t safe to go home, or I’m just done with the world.)

Vous êtes la seule personne à qui je fais confiance. Sauf ça. C'est la seule chose que vous ne saurez jamais, parce que je sais que vous ne ressentirez jamais la même chose.

(You are the one person I trust everything to. Except this. This is the one thing that you’ll never know, because I know you’ll never feel the same.)

Je t'aime Eddie Kaspbrak, je t'aime.

(I love you Eddie Kaspbrak, I love you.)”

Eddie giggled. “What the hell did you just say?”

“Oh, um, just a very detailed description of your mom’s vagina. I can retell it in English if you’d like?”

“Beep beep Richie.” Eddie said whilst laughing, as Richie sat admiring him, a wistful expression on his face.

A few days later saw Richie climbing into Eddie’s window at 3am with a bust lip and a black eye and tears streaming down his cheeks.

Without having to ask, Eddie pulled him into his bed and wrapped his arms around the crying boy. Richie wouldn’t stop muttering something in French until he fell asleep.

“Je t'aime.” Eddie made himself a promise that he’d look those words up as soon as the library was open tomorrow.

As soon as Richie left the next morning, Eddie pulled on a Red sweatshirt, one of Richie’s that he’d left behind years ago, and some shorts. He ran out of the house, making sure to kiss his mother goodbye before he left, and raced to the library.

He walked in and asked the receptionist to point him towards the ‘languages’ section.

He grabbed himself the first French dictionary he could find and flipped straight to the ‘T’ chapter, he already knew that ‘Je’ mean ‘I’.

Eddie gasped when he read the meaning. He dropped the book, causing a loud thud, and ran straight for the exit. He clambered back onto his bike and sped down the streets. He knew where Richie would be. The out of use highway bridge. He would always go there on a Saturday to smoke, listen to The Smiths and get away from his Parents.

Eddie threw his bike down as soon as he arrived, taking a puff from his asthma inhaler. “Richie?” He called out.

“Eddie?” He looked up to see Richie sat on the bridge’s ledge, feet swinging backwards and forwards. Eddie began to run up the hill towards the dark haired boy, whilst said boy stumbled down towards him. They met halfway.

“Eds, what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be babysitting your mother or something.”

“Je t'aime aussi.” Eddie stated, not even bothering to tell Richie off for calling him Eds.

“What?” Richie looked unsure of what he’d just heard.

“Je t’aime aussi.” Eddie took a breath. “I love you too.”

Richie wasted no time in pulling Eddie in by his waist, connecting their lips. Eddie fisted his hands in the collar of Richie’s shirt. They pulled away a few moments later, in need of air, and rested their foreheads together.

This felt right. This felt like home.

【Japan Official Fanclub Magazine Vol.2】BTS My Biography – Suga’s part

From a mischievous child to a young boy that loves to read

Born in Daegu, South Korea’s 3rd biggest city, which is located in the south. I lived there until I came to Seoul. I was just an ordinary child, I always liked to mess around. So, the teacher in nursery didn’t really like me (laughs). I remember that I always got told off “it’s dangerous!” I liked sports and I was especially good at running. From primary school to high school, I often got chosen to participate in the relay race. And I was above average in studying.

When I was a child, I really liked to go out to play with my friends. But as I grew up, I wasn’t that fond of going out to play. Even when I went out to play, we just met in the park, there were nothing to do though. I didn’t like that, so I usually stayed at home along on the weekends. My mother said: “you should go out to see your friends sometimes.” (laughs)

I liked to collect, so I collected a lot of books when I was a child. Because at the time, I wanted to be cultivated, I wanted to pretend that I’m civilized. So, I read many grown up novels, poetry anthology, literary works and news articles which didn’t suit me… I read all genres of books. I don’t know why but from middle school onwards, I started to have the habit of reading from the back page. Now, I would read books sometimes. My reading speed is quick because I read chunks of writings.

First love in primary school… I honestly don’t have any memories about that. Unlike Seoul, the place I live in is quite conservative. Especially in my school, it’s rare to see boys talking to girls. Even being next to a girl made me shy, I didn’t even say a thing.

Encountered Hip-Hop
Started to compose music in middle school

I became interested in music when I was in 5th grade of middle school, I saw the Korean artist Stony Skunk’s performance on TV. At the time, the genre Ballad was in its prime. If 18 teams were on a music show, 10 would be ballad groups, 5 would be idol groups and the remaining 3 would be other genres, Stony Skunk was one of the 3. Stony Skunk was really cool, their style is so different from the other groups. I’ve never been interested in music before that, but under the influence of Stony Skunk, I started to listen to Hip-Hop and Reggae music. I was also influenced by Epik High. MP3 players were getting popular at the time but I bought a Panasonic CD player and listened to music with that.

That’s how I started to listen to music, and at the same time I started to write song as well. No one told me to do it, but I just felt like I should write something. I started to write rap lyrics in primary school and started to compose music in middle school. At the time, no one around me liked Hip-Hop. Although Hip-Hop is getting popular again in Korea but when I encountered Hip-Hop, it was a genre that was popular from a long time ago. You probably couldn’t find anyone who raps on the street, apart from me. My friends complained when I sang rap songs in the karaoke room. You know there’re those special hand gestures in Hip-Hop, I got laughed at because I did those gestures.

Despite all of that, I continued to like Hip-Hop. I got to perform on the stage for the first time in 2nd of middle school. I performed Dynamic Duo’s ‘Go Back’ with my friends. I don’t like standing in front of many people but I just felt like I had to do it. I wanted to show off the rap that I’ve been practicing, although I wasn’t that great (laughs). Actually, I wanted to attend an arts high school, so I even produced classical music. But arts high school is too expensive so I attended an ordinary high school. I said to my father, “I’ve made enough music, I’ll study properly when I’m in high school.” But I never kept my promise (laughs).

Joined an underground crew in hometown, started to work as an underground rapper

I produced music in middle school for self-satisfaction, and I made songs in a hobby level. But after I changed the MIDI equipment, I started to make music properly. When I was in 1st grade of high school, I made a person to listen to my song, he was a teacher to me and he really liked it. Then he introduced me to a Hip-Hop crew called ’D-Town’ and I joined in. That song had a New Age music feeling to it but the Hip-Hop beats were like Nujabes. For your information, the teacher that acknowledged me studied in Berklee College of Music and now he’s a music director for movies. After I joined the crew, I started to learn rap properly. Although I’ve been rapping since primary school but since no one around me raps, so I always thought I was the best (laughs).

This is how I started my underground activities in Daegu. It also made me realize that working in the underground scene is difficult to make a living. The hyungs that I worked with was 10 years older than me, there were even people over 30 years old. They had to work part-time along with making music, it looked so tiring. I really hated the fact that it was difficult to gather 100 audience when we try to hold a live performance. I thought “if I succeed, can I be the bridge between mainstream music and underground music?” There are many people that makes great music in the underground scene, so I thought when I become famous, I’ll give them a better environment to work in and I want to let the world hear my hyungs’ music.

And at the same time, I heard that BigHit Entertainment was holding an audition in Daegu. I only knew that producer Bang Shi Hyuk established the company but I still auditioned. The next day, I got the notice that I passed the audition. Later, someone told me that when he saw me, he immediately gave me a pass. Even though my rapping wasn’t really good at the time (laughs).

Came to Seoul, became a trainee
Ran counter to his (original) intention?!

I can still clearly remember the day that I came to Seoul, 7th November 2010, when I was in 2nd grade of high school. When I joined the company, my original intention wasn’t to become a rapper, I wanted to become a producer. So, I thought I didn’t need to dance, and I can leave rapping to those that are good at it. I thought I only need to be a producer. But that wasn’t the case (laughs). At the time, the company wanted to debut a group consists of rappers, rather than an idol group. However, the plan changed at the end. The members at the time were Rap Monster, J-Hope and I. Including Supreme Boi, i11evn hyung who’s currently working in the underground scene, and IRON hyung, who was one of the finalists in ‘Show Me The Money 3’. I think if we debuted like that, our rapping would be outstanding but we would probably have failed (laughs).

Rapper & Producer
Suga’s future goals

I’m able to walk on the path of music, it’s because of my brother, who’s 4 years older than me. Under my influence, my brother started to like Hip-Hop too. No one supported me in my family when I went to audition, except for my brother. They don’t approve of making music. My relatives even said to me: “what can you achieve from making music, just study properly.” So, I could only share my songs with my brother, he was my only listener. And I told my brother first when I passed the audition. We have a good relationship just like friends. I don’t usually drink but I drink a bit with my brother. Of course, my family support me now. The relatives that advised me to study even came to ask for my autograph (laughs).

I’ve been thinking lately that I want to be active as a producer. I’m not ambitious about being in the center, I just want to make music. I’m not interested in the entertainment industry, others want to either act or be on variety shows, but I don’t (laughs). Above all, I think the most important for BTS right now is to achieve #1 in Korea and Japan. And, I want to become the best rapper, the best producer. I don’t know how long it will take to achieve that but I’m going to give it a go.

BTS Biography - Jimin (Vol.5)
BTS Biography - V (Vol.3)

Trans: KIMMYYANG (from Korean mondomizel1)

Steam (M)

WARNINGS: graphic smut, very angsty, vulgar words, riding, overstimulation, kitten kink, friends with benefits

genre: smut / angst

Summary: He had a tough day at work, and needs you to help him blow off some steam. But maybe being friends with benefits was never a good idea.

Originally posted by professional-fangirling


There was something off.

You couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was, but you knew there was something wrong. By the way Yoongi called you at an odd hour of the day, his voice laced with anger. You did your best to talk to him, and calm him down. But he just wasn’t budging. And you weren’t sure what happened.

You bit your lip, anticipating for him to walk through the door.

He abruptly hung up on you, muttering a loud ‘I’m coming over, wait for me’. You weren’t sure what he meant, or what he was going to do. But you knew it was going to be exciting.

This was how Yoongi was.

Whenever he had a stressful day, he went to you and blew off some steam. You didn’t mind, in fact, you enjoyed it. It proved that he saw you as someone he trusted.

Yoongi didn’t just have sex with anyone. He chose his partners very carefully, and you knew that. So when he first kissed you, you found it quite a surprise. But, over time, you both turned into friends with benefits. You said you wouldn’t catch feelings, and neither would he.

But time changes, right?

You never imagined yourself with someone like Yoongi. Someone so self-collected on the outside, but dying on the inside. You knew how much he was hurting himself over the small things, how much he stressed himself out just to make others happy. But, over time, he really started to grow on you.

You saw the small things in him. The way he would scratch the back of his ear when he got nervous. The way he would would scrunch his nose when he did something embarrassing. The way his laugh was cut into pieces, and only sometimes let out a sound.

Just thinking about him made your heart hurt.

Yoongi never imagined being with someone like you either. Someone so kind-hearted, and honest. He always thought he would end up with someone cold, just like him. But, instead, he found you. Someone so warm on the inside, and someone so beautiful that he swore it hurt his own heart when he saw you.

You saw things in him that no one else could, and that’s why he chose you out of everyone else. You understood him, even during his worst times. You got where he came from, and respected him as, not only an idol but also, a human being in general. You understood his passion for music, and you supported him through everything. You were there when he fell apart, or when he was stressing over small, or big, things.

He envied you.

On how you could be so understanding of everyone around you, and still keep yourself sane.

But one thing he didn’t know was that you were actually driving yourself towards the edge. You were suffering in more ways than one. You had no one to support you the way you support everyone else. Sure, you had Yoongi. But he was never around. But you knew how much music meant to him, so you painted a smile on your face. You couldn’t take away the one thing keeping him sane for your own selfish reasons.

You sat on your bed, letting out a sigh as the thought of Yoongi barging through the door filled your mind. As you still remembered how he felt against your skin. As you still knew just the exact way he smelt when he held you.

You weren’t sure you could do it anymore.

You couldn’t be friends with benefits with a man you were in love with.

You heard the door swing open, and your eyes shot open as you sat up in your bed. His eyes were dark, and he looked absolutely angered. But, even then, you still saw the beauty in him. You still saw a man you knew you loved.

You swore to yourself that this was it.

This would be the last time you would ever be with him, or even see him for that matter.

He ushered towards you, kissing you roughly as your back hit the bed. His hands were roaming over your body, lifting up his loose shirt that you were wearing that you found in your closet. He loved it when you wore his t-shirts, he thought you looked absolutely wonderful in them.

Keep reading

Hey guys! I’ve told you before that I’m a writer so this is a hella long post because it’s track-by-track. Unapologetically so. Hope you guys enjoy x 

TRACK 1: “… READY FOR IT?

 This song is a battlecry. The thumping bass brings to mind the heavy thud of wolves paws as they race towards their prey, seeking the trail left by a girl who used to leave her heart open and on her sleeve, ready to be snatched at any moment in a snap of their jaws. But no more. From the moment she clears her throat, we learn this battle will be on Taylor’s terms. It is her fight to win.

This is the first love song she’s released and had complete artistic ownership of in three years. It is no coincidence then that there’s reference to the tortured passions of Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton. They were a couple hopelessly and dangerously in love with many scars carved on their hearts by the other’s knife. This reference is a throwaway to the long list of ex lovers the girl who bathes in diamonds has had but also a reference to the flickers of hope Taylor feels for longevity no matter what with Joe. Their road may be complicated at times but they will get  there because the game is hers. The constant question of ready for it and in response baby let the games begin is so obviously a call of warning to Joe for what lies ahead but perhaps more subtly it is the call of Taylor’s inner voices and heart to her razor sharp self awareness. Is she ready for the games to begin? Is she ready to open her heart and give Joe a chance to be a better man?

TRACK 2: “END GAME” ft. Ed Sheeran & Future:

This song starts off with Taylor’s declaration that she wants to find a forever. It sounds sincere, gentle, wearied, the tone of the too often heartbroken. But then it shifts, it’s like the rose coloured glasses have come off and she’s reminded of her reputation. Then it’s all tongue in cheek sarcastic satire to keep the smile in place so that we don’t see how much it hurts. She has to weigh up every interaction in the context of her reputation. The addition of Ed & Future speaks volumes; one is a time trusted friend who has finally found a bright love of his own but that was not without heartbreak and the other gives her an edgier attitude that makes her self awareness all the more powerful.

There has been a further loss of innocence in this sharpening of her self awareness, gone are the wistful days of “say you’ll remember me”, that’s all I want. Now it’s all “I don’t wanna touch you, I don’t wanna be just another ex love you don’t wanna see.” She can see the fall right from the start but this time she opts out and says unless I’m your end game… because I don’t want to pick up any more pieces of my broken heart.

Also: Shoutout to Ed for his Cherry inspired verse. It made me feel many emotions too. SWEERAN THRIVES.

TRACK 3: “I DID SOMETHING BAD.”

The girl with the long list of ex lovers is back. However with the casually explicit twist, this narrative seems layered with perceptions and recognition of self-worth, “If a man talks shit, I owe him nothing.” This is drip-feeding the media exactly what they want, she’s stoking the fire herself. But in feeding the fire herself, she’s sending the burning embers back at them. Did you really think the girl who you used as an international rod for slut shaming would stay quiet forever? Nope. She doesn’t care if you burn her like a witch at the stake because she’s already done it. She’s burnt away all of the misplaced guilt and is now revelling in how good they felt in the moment. In fact, watch out she’s blazing with all the fire of a phoenix reborn and you might just get turned to ash.

TRACK 4: “DON’T BLAME ME.”

This & “I Did Something Bad” sound like sister tracks. The girl who jetsets around the world collecting men isn’t quite finished with her tale yet. She reminds us that defining her relationships by their headlines and paparazzi shots is a foolish move because those things are  one-dimensional. Taylor believes in love and this is her way of reminding us that there was love in every escapade of her heart up until now, at least at some point. She’s talking about the heady rushes head spinning intoxication of first glances and hands on skin and it doesn’t matter what the media says about the way she handles relationships because they forget love and that makes you crazy. Maybe in their minds the drug she refers to is not a singular identity but a collective “baby” and to them love will always be something she “uses”. But the heart wants what it wants and Taylor knows that so it doesn’t really matter.

TRACK 5: “DELICATE.”

This is the kind of song that happens when you cut the cord that is the boy crazy perception of yourself. You step back into the shadows and disappear so that they can’t find you. You close your heart, lock your doors and rebuild. And then he shows up. This is a cautionary songpp because Taylor can obviously feel sparks but… she’s just started to rebuild and if they find out the wolf hunt begins again. With delicate disbelieving vocals, we see Taylor start to realise that he can’t possibly want to gain anything from her reputation because it’s so bad… The wheels turn in her head. I imagine the realisation, “Wait so he must like me for me?” With the beat drop comes hope. Details are slowly given and then he stays. He doesn’t run so Taylor gives him pieces of herself; confessions thoughts and then her brain catches up with her mouth and the wheels come to a grinding halt: Her inner monologue screams it was too much too fast. We’ve all been there. It’s too delicate. No going back now. It’ll break and I’ll be left alone. Maybe one day I’ll find someone who doesn’t walk away, one day too.

TRACK 6: “LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO.”

The world tore a girl to shreds, made her play the fool on tilted stages. She retreated and rebuilt. Now the fool is dead. From here on out, she only trusts her army. With high heeled boots, red lips and words as sharp as daggers, she’s cutting herself a path. She is taking no prisoners and she’s accompanied by a savage snake because she and her army will always be better at the game. When she’s finished hunting down your asses, she’ll sit back on her throne with a high pitched giggle and say, “oh look what you made me do.”

TRACK 7:  “SO IT GOES…”

When people are watching, you have to be careful. Cover your tracks. Taylor doesn’t leave her heart open or on display anymore. But then they leave. The door shuts. You lock it with a key and the crashing chemistry you’ve been trying to deny slams into your ribs, knocking the breath out of you. It’s stolen kisses, careless touches, reckless chasing of the high. Body language is a fluency all its own. But a quick reminder before you unlock the door and venture out again; wash the lipstick off your face. *clears throat* you got a little caught up in the moment and you don’t want to blow your cover!

TRACK 8: “GORGEOUS.”

 The childish proclamation of the title to begin this next glimpse into Reputation  is hinting at the satirical inner monologue that this song is , reminiscent of the times you write your crush’s  last name instead of your own to see how it fits. It’s all giggles and late night phone calls, the kind Taylor most likely had with Abigail where they talked real slow because it was late and their mamas didn’t know (: However, it could also serve as a projection of the runaway daydream that fills Taylor’s mind from that very first night when she stumbles home alone to her cats, of what a possible future might look like (with kids one day) The lazy liquor loosened rhythms of Taylor’s thoughts tell us things she hasn’t admitted fully yet but will soon on nights at 4am staring at her reflection  in the bathroom mirror, telling herself the bravest thing she ever did was run - that this gorgeous  swoonworthy British boy with his careless touches and drawling accent has awakened the possibility of something better. This realisation rattles Taylor as she contemplates the gaps in her current relationship. *cue wistful sighs of frustration and enchantment, set to the dialogue of every teenage movie where the girl thinks the boy is just too good looking, how unfair is that?

TRACK 9: “GETAWAY CAR.”

The thing about any movie that has a getaway car scene is that they inevitably crash…. And that’s exactly what happens here. Except, the carnage is human hearts. She was running. There was a person she crashed into. It gets all blurred and tangled, she thinks she’s free but the thing about those movies is that the thing you ran from in the getaway car catches up to you particularly if there’s a track you can follow. Oceans of distance weren’t enough, darling. You needed to disappear. And I think she realises that  but she tries to pretend innocence and will the sunset closer. Unfortunately  the only real  way to untangle yourself is to disappear crying in the back of a getaway car in the dead of night. Without a word. That must have hurt a lot.

TRACK 10: “KING OF MY HEART.”

This song happens in tandem with Delicate. She’d sworn off love. Joe turned up. The British boy with the heart of gold who made his American queen believe. He made behind closed doors a paradise of rooftop nights. Before she knows it, he is every love story Taylor has ever daydreamed of. The line “is this the end to all the endings” made my heart swell because it’s clear Taylor hopes he’s the one. Please let there be no more heartbreak.

TRACK 11: “DANCING WITH OUR HANDS TIED.”

Dancing is supposed to be a joyous thing and maybe it was in the beginning. You can reassure with every beat. Sometimes your gut instinct shouldn’t be ignored though  because it does raise red flags. The door only needs to be fractionally ajar for the hunters to find a way in and set your paradise aflame. It sometimes doesn’t matter how much you dance to escape the flames, they will catch you. You will get tired. Dancing is a bliss that is euphoria swimmimg through your veins if the beat enters your bloodstream in the right moment; you feel like you could live forever. And in the end no matter how much it might hurt to walk away again, you would still dance for just another kick of that rush.

TRACK 12: “DRESS.”

Taylor’s caught up in the chemical rush. Every syllable drips with lust and the glory of the high when your hearts crash into each other, slamming the breath from between your ribs. It’s hands in hair and I don’t care what they think. It’s seeing the worst (hi bleachella) and still wanting. It’s realising you made mistakes before this and why didn’t you just do this from the beginning because it feels so good now you can’t ever have imagined wanting anything else. But every mistake is a marker in the roadmap and you woke up just in time to find where you needed to be.

TRACK 13: “THIS IS WHY WE CAN’T HAVE NICE THINGS.”

I think everyone’s been in this situation, right? Someone burns you and it hurts but in the fun of a party, you click and connect again and it all starts to feel like water under the bridge. Maybe there was over-reacting happening. You throw them a second chance. Redemption. You’re the nice girl and you make excuses. But then they do it again, maybe it takes a couple of things and suddenly it’s too much. You lock the gate for your own safety. But they still expect you not to care. To flash a smile and forgive. I’m sorry. That’s not happening. You get hurt when I push back. I guess I should forgive you because we both threw stones. But… that would require me to mean it. Whoops, *laughs manaically* I can’t even say it with a straight face!!!

PS: It’s not too obvious I have personal experience with this song is it? Thanks KS x.

TRACK 14: “CALL IT WHAT YOU WANT.”

This song is difficult for me to process because I never thought it would actually happen. I seem to remember somewhere along the way, a couple of years back, Taylor expressing frustration that she couldn’t seem to write happy songs about being in love like Ed Sheeran could. Well, I wish you could go back Taylor and tell yourself what you know now.

This song is a three minute ode to happy love. It’s smiles so wide you might split your face in half at the thought of that person. It’s blushing and shy giggles and bursts of song and twirls and all caps texts from your girls as they collectively lose their minds over how happy you are. This is every love story and fairytale Taylor has ever wanted but the wolves are always waiting, not so easy to outrun. 

Taylor says it herself in the  opening lines. She was done. The castle had crumbled. The bricks left bruises blooming on her exposed skin. People were tearing her down and she was hurting. Her heart had been shattered but so had her soul, again and again, relentlessly. And then she retreated, went silent and rebuilt. What she didn’t count on was love. A man who saw all the bruises and broken pieces and said it’s OK, I can still find the real you under all that. Taylor like so many of us looked in the mirror and saw all the danger for herself and for Joe, tried to push him away, keep him safe. That’s a very noble action but breaking your own heart so it doesn’t hurt as much when you feel like the other shoe is going to drop requires apathy from the other person. And Joe, god bless you, you didn’t let her push you away. You broke down her walls and showed you that starlight love does still exist. You loved her for Taylor. The person. You got her to give love a chance when she swore never again so thank you so much for that. I can’t really express how much that means to all of us. 

 This is an anthem of hope for every person who has ever been broken and is in the process of putting pieces back together. It can be done. We will find love. We will be radiantly happy again. We will be the strongest we’ve ever been. 

PS: *leans over to whisper in Taylor’s ear*

I think you’re finally clean…

TRACK 15: “NEW YEARS DAY.”

Piano on the final track… This is an ode of pure hope and happiness, a fitting final chapter to a remarkable story. Everyone wants the glory of the midnights and the lover who will be in their bloodstream like the party. But what we all hope for is someone who stays long enough to help us clean up the bottles on New Years Day. Someone who makes us feel like the messy unfiltered parts look like a highlight reel. Good times and bad times and all in between. They won’t leave. You found him. Forever.

This album is fucking brilliant Taylor. I love you. Proud x.

@taylorswift @taylornation @brian-mansfield

colossus-steppes  asked:

What was bad about Yooka-Laylee? I haven't played it myself, but from what I heard pre-release it seemed good. Did it turn out bad then?

yooka-laylee was a fucking ride

the game had this weird behind the scenes development first of all


the year was 2012, banjo nostalgia was at its peak, and had been for a couple years now. largely due to jontron

rare was a fucking mess, and still is, so there wasnt any hope for a new rare game that isnt some shovelware kinect bullshit (thanks microsoft)

just about everyone from the golden days of rare is is at different places. some at retro, some still at rare, some at gory detail, some just at random places. its a mess

but somehow, a few ex-rare devs got together, noticed how big banjo had gotten in recent years and decided to make a spiritual successor

iirc, jontron was actually a large reason why the game began development in the first place. he revived a lot of love for the bear and bird. he brought back a lot of love for rare in general actually.

i wanted to avoid bringing up jon, i really did, but that would be like not bringing up banjo. jon is too integral to the development of yooka, and banjo is the game yooka is ripping off

they were in regular contact with jon from what i remember. jon brought up the rare spiritual successor before anyone even knew it was a thing, before even the mingy jongo twitter was found. and of course grant kirkhope was on game grumps, and jon was offered a role on the game

the mingy jongo twitter is where things get odd. sometime in 2012, a twitter was found. it was all cryptic and shit, and named after a forgettable enemy from banjo-tooie. it was hyping up something, but no one knew what

it stopped updating for like a year, made a tweet about crashing, and was confirmed to be cancelled.

and then even later, mingy jongo made a tweet about rebooting, and changed the name to playtonic. the dumb arg bullshit was over, and we got a look at what the games visual style would be like

the kickstarter launched, it was super successful and spawned many imitators, but none nearly as successful as yooka

a hat in time was not one of those imitators, it was in development long before yooka

the game had promise to it. the game looked like a real return to the golden age of 3d platformers it looked fun, it looked like it had interesting and seemingly focused level design, it knew its roots and embraced it, but it still had its own identity, it had a team of industry veterans, now off their leash so they’re free to make a game how they want to make it. 

there was no doubt in our minds, this was going to be great. 

it was a really shitty time for 3d platformers. games were either AAA or indie. AAA were too focused on big action movie set-piece games aimed at people in their mid-20s, and indies didnt have the budget or experience to do 3d. so the genre was almost dead aside from the odd ratchet, sonic or mario game. but it wasnt enough, the genre was slowly dying. yooka needed to happen

we got some more gameplay, and it seemed good, but not great. it had its flaws but it was still early in development, things can only get better, right?

yooka-laylee was then revealed to be using the unity engine. a notably awful engine with an ungodly amount of problems that is only used by people because its cheap, so they can make meme games with it like whos your daddy or some donald trump game. but those are games that embrace the problems of unity

then we got the toybox demo.

we got to test out the controls around a very plain environment. it was essentially a playtest area. the controls were very off, and there was little tech. but the controls werent that bad.as long as they dont make the controls worse in any way, and the game has some tight level design, this can still be a great game.

also there was a little secret for getting everything in the demo and going somewhere specific, a secret that tells you to go somewhere and look for something in the final game. i’ll get back to that.

playtonic soon found a publisher for yooka-laylee to help with yooka. team17 of worms fame

the wii version of yooka-laylee was cancelled and playtonic said there wont be a switch version

we got some more proper gameplay of yooka showing off the capital cashino level

and my god

it

was

bad

really really really

bad

but it was just one level, it doesnt represent the whole game does it?

either way, some people were getting skeptical of the game by this point.


and then, the catalyst


community manager of team17, playtonics publisher was going on neogaf one day and saw the general consensus of jontron there was rather negative there. well jonno wasnt having any of that and demanded playtonic to remove jontron from the game

jonno zuckerberg’d jontron

and out of such a minor voice role too

what followed was a shitshow

because jon was such a major part to yooka’s history, naturally some people thought removing jon was an extremely backstabby move to make.

to many, this was the straw that broke the camels back. there were many red flags before, but this was a big one.

there were 3000 known refunds that followed. 

and thats just the refunds that went through, because playtonic or team17, most likely team17, actually denied most of the refunds, banned people asking how to refund it on steam, and called anyone refunding the game racist

playtonic also blocked a dude that offered a reasonable solution to the jontron solution on twitter

they were not handling this with grace

jon just kind of accepted that he wouldnt be in the game, if you’re wondering how he was taking his removal

around this time, i was thankful that i didnt kickstart it


so the game finally comes out and the reviews are divided. some people call it a masterpiece and everything bad about the game is supposed to be bad because n64 games didnt age well so this should play like an n64 game that didnt age well and they got everything promised to them

others called the game a rushed sloppy poorly designed mess with an insane amount of problems that cannot be overlooked

after the dust settled, the game has pretty much settled on a lukewarm 6/10 or 7/10 from most sites.

so how was the game really

horrible.

for a game made by developers with decades of experience under their belts, they learned nothing from any of the games they made, or others have made. every flaw that banjo had is not only in yooka, but a thousand times worse

everything we knew about the game pre-release was also worse

the tight level design? non-existent

the decent controls? ruined

the unique identity? gone

nothing of value remained. yooka-laylee is a husk of what was meant to be

the controls were made slipperier, and a stamina meter was added, so you cant go slightly fast for more than a couple seconds, and due to the massive empty levels, going fast is required if you dont want to go insane

the level design does not exist. things are just placed in areas without thought. the focus was on making the levels super big and placing the collectables in really obscure places. not even just the jiggy equivalents, but also the note-equivalents

but the bad controls and bad level design apparently werent enough. levels we had gimmicks that just complimented the absolute worst of the levels and controls. slippery dank caves full of pits, slippery ice levels

the world is barren and empty. there is nothing to do in it

the bosses are, well…
they’re walls. every last one of them is a wall that you fight. honest to god walls.

the camera is an abomination. i dont think i need to say anything that hasnt been said a thousand times already, its one of the worst things about the game, and that is a fucking low bar

the audio mixing is horrible, the chopper transformation grates on the ears, the grunting is far too loud and goes on for much longer than the grunting in banjo, making it extremely obnoxious and annoying

the game had a fucking quiz section that expects you to know every weird minor detail about the game, like really weird and obscure details no one playing the game casually would know, you would have to be obsessed with the game from the moment it was announced and pay close attention to everything no matter how minor to know any of the quiz’s answers. you need to answer 10 questions correctly in a row or else you’re sent to the beginning. and they throw this at you in the first world. i think they do it every world, actually but i could be wrong. they somehow took an interesting but a bit obnoxious part from banjo tooie and i think kazooie as well, and turned it into one of the biggest sins in any game i have ever seen

the loading times, while not bad, are INSANELY frequent, it breaks the flow of the game far too often

there were tons of glitches

enemies were sponges

the fucking mine cart sections were unbearable

frequent framerate issues (thanks unity)

all the minigames were complete trash

the fridge character is one of the worst things i have ever seen

there were seemingly nonsensical puzzles that dont give you any indication if you’re missing something required to beat it

the game stops introducing characters early on, and just recycles all the previous characters


so thats the bad of yooka, heres the good


the visuals look nice half the time, although the other half is unity fucking up the lighting because its a shit engine

the music is sometimes good

some of the character designs are nice


and thats about all i can really compliment the game on honestly

it’s a mess and one of the biggest disappointments i have ever played. it wasnt even worth pirating


you wanna know what jontrons role would have even been? making farting sounds for a toilet character. they shot themselves in the foot over a youtuber voicing a toilet


oh and do you remember that little secret from the toybox i mentioned

well if you go to where you were told, you’ll find a little scene with a robot

it’ll basically say something is 50% complete

and thats it

no secret alternate costume, no unlockable power, no item that lets you find collectables, no nothing. just some dumb secret teasing a potential sequel

that was somehow the most infuriating part about the game, and perfectly sums up yooka-laylee


its a bad fucking game


sorry for any spelling mistakes, but its 3am and this is a massive wall of text

Greed

Pairing; Park Jimin  x Reader

Words; 3.1k

Genre; Smut | Light angst

Summary;  ❝Love is blind, greed is insatiable❞

Aka; You’re Jimin’s side hoe and he’s too fucking greedy to choose between what he loves and his greed for money.

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