this took me like a way longer amount of time to make than it should have

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It’s been 10 years since we first started taking the Hobbits to Isengard. I mean, it’s been way longer - the Hobbits could have fucking walked there, back again, managed to get served several times at the downstairs bar in Doggett’s and got a Southeastern train service all the way to Charing Cross since Tolkien put pen to page. But (and believe me, this is deeply unusual for me) let’s put J R R aside in this.

Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings trilogy is kind of… well, both too faithful (total lack of critical interrogation of Tolkien’s absolutely awful concepts around race, gender, etc.) and not faithful enough in that it appeared to miss all the points your correspondent’s teenage self managed to find in the series. Specifically, where Lord of the Rings is an obsessively detailed but ultimately quite modest and traumatised epic, a huge amount of which is two small, starving creatures crawling around in mud having moral dilemmas. The Jackson films take themselves as seriously and grandly as the books came to be and as I suspect their author probably never did.

Taking the Hobbits to Isengard, on the other hand, is a pure and perfect work and I will hear no ill spoken of it else ye never receive a pint in a round bought by me again. 

It takes as its base the Hovis-theme-ripping-off music from The Shire - the small-worlded part of the films, before any grandeur is truly injected into the bloated beastie that is the trilogy. The Hobbiton theme is supposed to be homely, reassuring, quaint - like anything that succeeds at that, it sounds fucking amazing played on an airhorn.

The simplicity of the Shire’s theme is what allows it to so naturally accept the kitchen-sink style auditory ornamentation that is ‘a donk’. A classic staple of rave, it needs no introduction even in a world as apparently dislocated from two WKDs and a honk on some poppers as the miruvor-quaffing pipeweed fiends we see here.

As a lyrical piece, Taking The Hobbits is discursive - like many of the very best pieces of pop. One only has to consider the sweet, sweet tension of Fleetwood Mac’s The Chain or Brandy and Monica’s iconic The Boy Is Mine to recognise that dialogous pop is, when it works, a particularly sublime genre.

It doesn’t matter that the lines are, ostensibly, orphaned from their original place in the script - from the eponymous ejaculation to Gollum’s hissed What did u say??? they’re all perfectly addressing each other in the sort of gloriously confused cacophony usually reserved for a misunderstanding-based brawl outside a kebab shop at 3am. 

I remember the first time I heard Taking The Hobbits To Isengard. It was quite a momentous occasion because I still had dial up, so it took roughly the length of a decent pop song to load and it was very difficult to tell if it was deliberate or a bandwidth-related glitch remix for at least 30 torturously disrupted seconds. I’d imagined it would be a fairly quick joke - most internet video based things were, at the time, but no; a fully fledged song. That just kept going. 

The initial air horns! These are funny, yes because we remember them as the Shire theme, which isn’t even the music for this bit. The stuttering sample of the original line! Which sustains itself as Sheffield Dave-style shout out far better than it should, given it’s old seriousface Elf ears himself yelling off a horse. 

(In retrospect, should have equated that with Sheffield Dave earlier)

Then there’s …polka bit. Few pop songs manage to maintain a polka interlude - Bohemian Rhapsody springs to mind but Taking the Hobbits To Isengard manages to repeatedly insert it without losing coherency around its original rave premise. If you don’t think ‘Tell me where is Gandalf, for I much desire to speak with him’ delivered over a little eurodance handbag bit is not both extremely funny and excellent pop, I can’t help you. 

Taking The Hobbits To Isengard would score reasonably at Eurovision. Not because Eurovision is actually the home of comedy trash but because if France (and it would probably have to be France in order for the Elven analogues to take themselves seriously enough) scooted in on an artpop platform and wanged loads of fucking airhorns round the stadium it would be entirely in keeping with European sensibilities of solemnly considering the totally whimsical due to our inherent reservedness about experiencing joy.

(The slightly older and wiser part of me has to question the repeated use of Gollum’s ‘stupid, fat, Hobbits’ which makes sense in the context of what he is but isn’t inherently funny, unlike a context-dislocated, bass-intoned ‘A Balrog of Morgoth’)

The great thing about Taking The Hobbits To Isengard is it actually gets funnier the more it goes on. Like Star Trekkin it not only sets out to commit to a fairly one-note premise but to hammer that note until it falls out through the piano and becomes a transcendent free agent, cascading through the strings. 

It takes a premise; that the Lord of the Rings films, in their overblown format, are very, very silly and runs with it extremely, deadly seriously. This is the core of not all but a fairly substantial chunk of really good pop, as well as an excellent manual for life. All things are here - a manic sense of imminent implosion, troubling past associated with racist ideologies, handcarts, hell, what did u say???

Very seriously; Taking The Hobbits To Isengard is a superb piece of fan work and it has substantially enriched my life to listen to it on loop for the past 45 minutes whilst watching a parliamentary debate on mute. Creators of this piece: thank.

{PART 25} I Won’t Stop You // Jeon Jungkook, Vampire!AU

Originally posted by jengkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Fantasy, Angst, Smut

Summary; Jungkook dreams of having the future with you that he always envied human’s of having. But as soon as he arrives home, his entire world - and everything in it gets turned upside down. He must make a choice in the face of evil; while evil holds you in its grasp.

“And he found strength in the only thing that he was powerless to; it had always, from the very beginning; been her.”

I update this series every Tuesday evening, 9pm-10pm (UK Time) 

{Part 1} //{Part 24} {Part 25} {Part 26}

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What to do when you’re stuck with a lazy group? I’m with two guys and we still haven’t chosen a topic. We have to present in two weeks. Nobody replies to my messages and both left after class this week. I just wanted to choose a topic and leave!!!! So I booked a study room today and they all made excuses. Ugh. I’m gonna be the one who’s doing all the work. This is worth 40% of our grade. Same as the exam. FML

Hi there, thank you for asking, as this is a super common problem in high school, university and the workplace! I’ve never seen this question answered in depth on studyblr, so I’ll give it a go! 

NB. It depends on your personality as to the approach you want to take, so let everyone who’s reading this not pass judgement upon others in such a situation~ Remember in all of this to be polite, understanding and gracious no matter how much you want to flip tables. The following 5 Options go in order of how many bridges you want to burn :’)

Option 0. Wait for a bit longer and try communicating with them again.

I have seen a similar question asked once on tumblr where the studyblr blogger answered “two weeks is plenty of time, you’re probably over-reacting”… Obviously, I’m not going to trivialise your answer by giving you just one option like that - I frankly thought that studyblr was quite rude for answering so shortly to someone who took the time to ask them a question.

How to do it: The way you communicate with them now might not be effective, so make sure that you’re ticking off the following boxes if you choose this option, rather than just letting nothing change: meeting face to face, setting mini-deadlines for each part instead of just allocating once at the beginning, and make sure each member knows what and when they have to complete something.

This option is best suited for people who:

  • really don’t want to create a commotion and would rather wait a little longer and reduce the time available for them to do the project,
  • or people who would answer ‘Strongly Disagree’ to “Being organized is more important to you than being adaptable“ and “In a discussion, truth should be more important than people’s sensitivities.” in a personality quiz (a strong prognostic factor for Option 1 tbh),
  • or people who know they can tackle everything in less than 1 week,
  • or people who just realised/kind of know they’re actually overreacting,
  • or have just realised whilst reading this that maybe they didn’t actually try contacting the other group members all that well (i.e. don’t have enough evidence for Option 3).

Pros:

  • Nobody gets angry at anyone, and it doesn’t reflect badly on you either (because no one finds out if you don’t say anything - people tend to be judgemental if you pick one of the three options below).
  • Less stressful for some people than confrontation.
  • You might get eventual cooperation.

Cons:

  • You might not get eventual cooperation, and end up being stuck with all the work anyway (hence resulting in options below).
  • More stressful for other people as you feel time is ticking away and nothing is changing.
  • The time you spend waiting for the others will result in less time for you to tackle all the actual work.

Pro-tip: doing as much individual work as possible sometimes will egg those team members to finally start pulling their weight, or can help you with Option 3 if you do end up going for it.

Option 1. You make all the decisions and do all the work.

Best suited for people who: are academically gifted, like doing work independently, have excellent time management skills.

Pros:

  • You can ensure the quality of the work will be excellent.
  • You get to choose what topic to do and direct the overall project turnout.
  • No one hates you for anything, but NB. your friends and family relationships that suffer as a result of the time you have to sacrifice might not have anything pleasant to say about it all.

Cons:

  • You need an extraordinary amount of time.
  • The other people in the group get a free ride and in nastier words, some would say you get taken advantage of for your goodwill.
  • Lack of group opinion may make the quality of your work suffer.
  • Other subjects you’re taking may suffer.

Option 2. Badger the other group members until they do some work.

Best suited for people who: don’t want to be stuck with Option 1, but don’t want to escalate to Option 3. Give them an ultimatum about the work, or just decide the topic by yourself if they don’t step up.

Pros:

  • Very similar to Option 0 in that you wait a bit longer before taking drastic action, so you might get eventual cooperation, and you don’t bother your professor.

Cons:

  • You stress yourself out badgering other people.
  • Other group members get annoyed at you, and your classmates that happen to watch you badgering have a not-so-great impression of you.

Option 3. Document a significant amount of evidence that shows your effort to get them to contribute and contact the professor about it.

Best suited for people who: would like to do things independently but just cannot afford the time because of other commitments.

Pros:

  • Professor can step in and (hopefully) offer some sort of alternative solution.
  • Your other subjects won’t suffer.
  • Sometimes you have a really great professor and they end up taking into account that you’ve done the project by yourself and mark super nicely/give a bonus mark, or even penalise the other students.

Cons:

  • Professor may snuff you and say “the purpose of this project is also to learn about team cooperation”. Had a prof before who told us straight up at the beginning of the project that “you work it out, not me”
  • Professor may help you out, but in a way that doesn’t really end up helping e.g. he just emails the two members of your group to tell them to start working once and that’s it.
  • Other group members hate you for life (and I know this bothers some people enough not to go through with it, again pls remember no judgement fellow readers)

How to do it: Email should be along the lines of the following:

Dear Professor _______,

I am a current student undertaking [course code]. I am sorry to contact you in unfortunate circumstances, but I have been having severe difficulty convening with the other members for the remainder of the _____ project. While I am aware that group projects have a dual purpose to both educate us on the academic topic as well as to improve our cooperation and communication skills, I have tried [insert whatever means you attempted to contact them by, attaching evidence is up to you]. I have already completed the intro/background research/other individual task, however I cannot complete the ______ by myself/without group input.

I would appreciate any guidance you could offer/I would greatly appreciate your help/If it is possible, could you please [insert action depending on how desperate you are - don’t ask for anything unreasonable!]?

I apologise for having to inconvenience you, and thank you for your understanding on the matter.

Kind regards,

[Name and student number]

Option 4. You do all the work and then leave their names off the work.

Best suited for people who: work independently, don’t mind burning a few bridges. I won’t actually recommend this option, but I’ve seen this happen in real life.

Pros:

  • Sense of self-satisfaction for some people when the lazy members don’t get a free ride.
  • Again, you make sure the project quality is exactly what you want.

Cons:

  • Similar to Option 1 minus the free ride bit.
  • Not only do the other group members hate you, but their friends in your cohort will too. At least in Option 3, those guys can’t try and gossip behind your backs because whoever they tell will realise that they didn’t do the right thing either.
  • Do this at your own risk, as it can backfire depending on the professor - if anyone’s watched Cheese in the Trap - the main character does all the work but the professor managed to suss out that the other group members didn’t do anything, and as a result penalised her with a D grade for failing to make it “group” work despite the fact she would’ve gotten an A. Some profs are really… they just don’t see it your way :/

Hopefully things don’t have to escalate to Option 4, but whatever you choose to take, I’ll wish you the best! I’ve given quite detailed instructions and written comprehensively, but feel free to contact me any time if you need any more help :)


MY STUDY TIPS

Please see my #optomstudies tag or my study tips directory (web only) for the full list of study tips + see my kpop vocab lists + stationery + bujo spreads! ^_^

WHAT I WISH I’D KNOWN BEFORE UNIVERSITY STUDY TIPS SERIES
0 Choosing a Degree , 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5 , 6 , 7 , 8 , 9 , 10-1 , 10-2 Saving Money 11 Adapting to Uni Study , 12 Study From Textbooks in Uni

Neighbour AU

There are three certainties in life: death, taxes, and Laurent’s neighbours having a loud argument every weekend. Laurent does not pay an exorbitant amount of rent just so that he can be woken up at three in the morning every Saturday because Jokaste is angry at Damen again. It’s bad enough that he knows their names without having ever introduced himself.

And of course, the fights are always followed by even louder make-up sex, as if he needs a weekly reminder that he himself isn’t getting any.

Tonight, it seems, Damen has been locked out of his apartment.

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— ask and you shall receive | pt 4—final (m)

pairing— jung hoseok x reader, sugar daddy! hoseok
genre/warnings— angst, romance, fluff, smut
words—9,405

:: summary— it’s been a couple of months since you and your sugar daddy changed your arrangement and while all has been well, practically floating on cloud 9, something is about to happen that will drop kick you back into reality…

  » pt 1 :: pt 2 :: pt 3 :: pt 4  ✓

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⇁ dick n’ go (m)

Originally posted by is-your-mac-fully-loaded

pairing⇁Seokjin x Reader

 genre⇁smut, crack || shopping for dicc!au

warnings⇁male objectification, superficiality, fuckgirl!reader, dirty talk, and cocky!jin if that isn’t your thing

word count⇁12.8k 

After trooping through a series of horrendous first dates and mediocre hookups, you were convinced you would never find a man capable of satisfying your needs. Your friend recommends you try a slightly unconventional method to remedy your bad luck.  

alternatively: seokjin has a five star dick and you decide to give it a go

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{PART 22} I Won’t Stop You (M) // Jeon Jungkook, Vampire!AU

Originally posted by jengkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Fantasy, Angst, Smut

Summary; You hear the great history of Vampires as you have never heard it before. But as the door into Jungkook’s world is opened wide for you - many more open in turn. Jungkook finds himself overwhelmed with anger - and that anger turns into something you least expected.

“His love and protection were both her weapon and shield. She didn’t belong or willingly surrender to anyone; anyone that was, except him.”

I update this series every Tuesday evening, 9pm-10pm (UK Time) 

{Part 1} // {Part 21} {Part 22} {Part 23}

Keep reading

Bts | Reaction | Attention

[ this is my weakness homigod - hope you enjoy, thank you so much for requesting !! ] 

Rated (M) for mature.


Seokjin 

➸ You were already on thin ice with Jin since the night began. With not only wearing the dress he kindly asked you not to wear - due to the generous amount of skin it showed - but also because you were being nothing but a tease. Not wanting to be at the dinner in the first place, being a brat was the only way you were certain he would drag you home to teach you a lesson. Which is what you’ve been aiming for all week.

The first step to your plan was the dress. The next being that you openly flirt with a couple of the boys, or even just some guys that would try to start a conversation with you and then deny it when Jin confronts you. You knew what you were doing, he knew that you knew, and that only pissed him off a lot more. Which is exactly what you wanted.

Now, came the final step that you were positive was going to be the last straw to break his composure. And, boy, were you more than right about that. When seated at your assigned table, Jin didn’t hesitate to grip your forearm and pull you in roughly - making sure that you were the only one to hear him.

“You’ve been defiant all night, princess. I’m asking you nicely to fucking behave yourself. Do not embarrass me, do you understand?” His voice sounded so strained, that it practically made you shiver with excitement. Your plan was working beautifully.

Without a response, you lean in closer than physically possibly. Confused as to what you were up to now, Jin nearly rammed his knee against the table in shock before almost choking on air. Were you seriously biting his ear? Right now? And why wasn’t he pushing you away? Why was he enjoying it? Question after question flowed through his brain at lightning speed - your sudden action of affection catching him off guard to the point he almost forgot where he was and nearly let out a small moan.

Quickly coughing to cover it up, he gently grips your chin - smiling just to throw off anybody who might be watching the two of you. But, his eyes were definitely a dead giveaway, no longer their sweet brown; more like a pitch black. Returning the sweet smile right back at him only seemed to add fuel to the fire that was now building up in the pit of his stomach.

“Oh, just wait until I get you behind closed doors,” he says through clenched teeth. “You wanted my attention - now you’ve got it.”

Yoongi

➸ It was currently 11:58 PM, and your forever hardworking boyfriend still hasn’t touched his side of the bed. This would be the second week in a row that you’ve been sleeping alone - and each time you not only grew lonely, but sexually frustrated. The lack of affection from him was driving you up the wall, you’re more snippier than usual, and even though you hate to admit it - you just can’t get off without him anymore. The light that rarely ever turned off from across the hall only made your blood boil even more - he was blowing up the electricity bill with this nonsense.

Of course, you knew how important his career was to him, always being his number one supporter no matter what. But, it would be nice if he would reciprocate and show you that you mattered, too. Just a simple ‘I love you,’ or even a peck on the cheek would be reassuring enough to let you know you’re not invisible in his world. Or even simply just coming to bed! 

You aggressively ripped the covers off your body, nearly slipping when your sock covered feet came in contact with the hardwood floor. Huffing as soon as you regained balance, you marched your way to his home studio, mentally hyping yourself up that you will get Min Yoongi to pay attention you - and take his ass to bed.

Once you walked in, without knocking, his writing only stops for a split second before it regains motion again. “What you doing up?”

He didn’t even bother to look up.

Fighting the urge to scoff, you cross your arms. “I should be the one asking you that. You’ve been at this since you got home, baby, it’s time to shut it down for tonight.”

It was like you didn’t even speak at all, his eyes still trained on the notebook in front of him. “Mmhm.”

You nearly strangled him right then and there. For someone who enjoys sleeping all the damn time, one would think he wouldn’t be such a night owl. Come to think of it, that’s probably why he does sleep quite often - his reacquiring late night sessions with his music was messing up his sleep pattern.

Suddenly, an idea pops into your head, making a Cheshire-like grin spread across your face. If you have been denied sweet release for so long, so has he. Yoongi was just as sexually frustrated - his lack of sleep only fogging over that part of his brain - but all it took to bring it back was the right touch. 

And you knew just how to do it. 

Sauntering your way over to the desk chair, you grabbed it by the back and swung it to face your direction. With pen still in hand, but no longer connected to the notebook, he stares at the space where his desk used to be - confused as to where it had gone.

Finally looking up and realizing you had turned him around, before he could even voice his annoyance of you getting in the way of his work, the mere sight of you starting to straddle his hips was enough to shut him up. Maybe it was the pent up frustration from the lack of sexual contact - but Yoongi couldn’t remember the last time you felt so good sitting on top of him. Now looking up at you with hooded eyes, his pen falls from his finger tips as his hands find their way around the curve of your ass. It wasn’t until you leaned downward to press hot kisses against his neck did you finally regain all of Yoongi’s attention. From the sound of him already groaning in response, you knew he needed this just as much as you did.

“Fuck, jagi…what do you need - tell daddy what you need.” He heavily panted, hips bucking desperately to create some sort of friction, grip on your backside tighten with every suck you gave his neck. “You have m-my attention…”

Namjoon

➸ Your recent argument spiraled into something much more complicated than the actual topic itself. In your eyes, Namjoon was smothering you. You had brought up that he never trusts you enough to hang out late with your friends, or even so much as have a normal conversation with a guy. Apparently, that didn’t sit right in his stomach. 

“You’re being over-dramatic, Joonie, all I want is space! That’s all!” 

“So, I try to protect what’s mine from guys who are trying to steal you from me, and now I’m suddenly a dictator?” He seethes, pacing back and forth while you watched from your spot on the couch. “Honestly, Y/n, I have a feeling this isn’t about me.” 

“Oh? Then what is this about? Enlighten me, with your high IQ.” 

“You like the attention. Every time we go out with your so called ‘guy-friends’ you make sure I get pissed off! You like getting a reaction out of me.” 

“You’re insane.” You shake your head, standing up from the couch. “There’s no way you’re that full of yourself, that you actually think my life revolves around making you jealous.” 

Namjoon shrugs his shoulders in such a condescending way, all you could do was scoff. 

“Whatever, be that way. I’m going out, or do you wanna tag along and make sure I don’t try any funny business with the bartender - like I supposedly did the last time.” You grabbed your keys from the coffee table, hurrying to put on your shoes. That argument ran longer than you expected, so now you were late. 

Now it being his turn to shake his head, he plops his tall frame onto the couch, resting his hands behind his head. “Nope. Have fun.” 

Halting for a split second, you turned your head in his direction with a raised eyebrow. Namjoon did nothing but take out his phone, his focus on the small screen rather than your retreating form heading for the door. 

“You’re being for real?” 

This time he didn’t even respond with words, just a low grunt. Rolling your eyes at his sudden immature behavior, you decided to take advantage of this little ounce of freedom you had tonight - having a feeling by the time you got back, it would be right back to the over-protective Namjoon. 

But, little did you know - you would be mistaken.

Three weeks have passed since your little argument, and you were starting to catch on to a pattern about now. Every time you would tell him you were going out, or you would be home late, all he did was grunt. Grunt, grunt, grunt. The only time you would get a worded response was when he came home from practice, and told you he was going to bed. 

It was starting to drive you nuts, the fact that he’s now putting little to no effort in knowing what you did anymore - like he didn’t even give a shit if you ever came back or turned up dead. Not to mention, if we were being honest, you two haven’t fooled around in those three weeks. Since you’d be coming home late, he would either be in the bed already or passed out on the couch. Usually he would be wide awake, waiting for you, and sometimes it ending in the both of you having lazy sex before bed. 

But, ever since that argument - you’ve gotten nada. And it’s made you bitchy beyond belief. Him ignoring you was definitely icing on the bitter cake. By now, you had figured it out. He was doing this on purpose. 

“Are you fucking serious with this, Namjoon? You’re being so childish for no reason, all I want is for you to trust me - I hate that this was the only way for me to get freedom, but now I’m over it.” Not even a grunt this time; your blood pressure was definitely going through it at the moment. “Kim Namjoon - I know you hear me talking to you!” 

Marching up straight to him, you didn’t hesitate to grab his phone out of his hand, catching him completely off guard - but didn’t mean he was going to give you the satisfaction of letting you know that. But, you did happen to catch the faint smirk that was slowly creeping onto his face. He was enjoying this. 

“You think this is funny? What point are you exactly trying to prove here, huh?” Namjoon leans backward with his hands behind his head, the smirk no longer hidden as he stared up at her with a glint of mischief in his eyes. 

“Tch, someone’s a little on edge. Feeling a bit frustrated? Angry? Am I giving you enough space - wouldn’t want to be smothering you, baby.” 

“So, you are still heated about what I said.” He loftily shrugs. Sighing, you place his phone on the coffee table before straddling his waist. Having to bite his lip to keep from groaning at the position, Namjoon tries to look anywhere else but at you. “Joonie, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. And to be honest…It was more fun to go out, and have you be jealous all the time. It was sort of a fucked up way of showing me that you cared - at least the nights you didn’t come, you would at least wait up for me. But, now you don’t do anything, and that scares me. I feel like I made you stop caring…”  

Subtly, you slowly start to grind - making the poor boy’s eyes start to pop out of his head as he still fought not to look at you. “I’ll admit…sometimes I get touchy with my guy friends to get a reaction out of you - but I can’t help it. You just look so sexy when you’re mad, Joonie~” 

He couldn’t stop the moan that escaped when you started to grind a little harder, his hands subconsciously gripping your waist tightly which he grit his teeth to keep from making anymore sounds. Now it being your turn to smirk, you lean in closer to where he could feel your breathing fan over the side of his face, mouth now slightly agape as you blew cold air into ear. Mentally cursing himself for wearing sweatpants, it was very obvious that he was enjoying what you were doing - him too missing these late night sessions. He only did all this to prove a point, sure he was correct all along in the end, but now he no longer gave a shit. 

As soon as your tongue connected with his hot skin, then followed by your lips to finally your teeth - Namjoon needed you now more than ever. 

“I do like the attention, I do~ Please pay attention to me again, Joonie. I won’t go out as much anymore, I’ll stop making you jealous on purpose, just please - I need you.” You had his attention, alright. 

And then some ;)

Hoseok

➸  It’s not like he was doing it just to spite you, it was his job. It’s not his fault that he’s busy, out there doing what he loved, while thousands of fans cheered him on. But, that didn’t mean he had to completely shut you out.

Unintentionally speaking, you knew how extra your boyfriend could get when he performed  - it was just how he was. Hoseok was a perfectionist when it came to choreography, it was another language he spoke, his passion.

 Anytime something would pop into his head for a new dance move to try, just like Suga, away went the rest of the world. It didn’t matter if it was Tinashe herself, Hobi wouldn’t notice - he was in the zone. And, man, was it hard to get him out of there. You would know. 

You were currently trying now. 

After returning home from a long day of your activities, all you were looking for was just a little cuddle time with your favorite ray of sunshine. The thought of him waiting for you with open arms was enough to bring you out of your funk just a little bit…until you heard the music blasting from upstairs. And that only meant one thing: Hobi’s in the zone.

 But, not this time, you thought. Tonight you were going to get his attention back no matter what. He would be leaving soon for their world tour, and dammit if you didn’t get at least one night of some loving before he left, you swore you would be salty the whole entire time he was gone. Or until you ate some food - whatever comes first. Shedding out of your day clothes and into a loose tank with some spandex shorts, you decided that, today, you were in the mood for a little dance lesson. 

The beat of the music shook your insides more, the closer you got to the dance studio next to your shared bedroom. Not even bothering to knock, there in his sweaty glory was none other than the dance junky himself - Jung Hoseok. Grinning slyly at how smooth and precise his movement was, you couldn’t help but to stop and take a minute to admire his technique. He and Jimin don’t play when it came to dancing, that’s for sure. His dancer hips was a personal favorite of yours. Even with all the mirrors that surrounded the room, Hobi still didn’t notice you walk in - his eyes literally trained on every step, every hip thrust, every facial expression that he made to burn it into his mind, until it felt natural.  If it wasn’t for you turning off the lights, nearly bursting out laughing when he screamed, he probably never would have noticed. 

“Y/n? Is that you?” He whimpered. 

Turning the lights back on, you could no longer hold in the cackles when you saw the look on his face. Even though you didn’t do it often, for his sake, you loved scaring him when you had the chance. He was the king of facial expressions, making it 10x more fun. 

“Yah! Stop laughing!” He pouts, rushing over to pause his music. “When did you get home, I didn’t even-”

“Hear me come in? Yeah, I know. Not too long ago, just wanted to come up and join in the fun.” You watched as his eyes scanned your attire, before a playful scoff is his only reply. “What?”

“Jagi, you can’t dance.”

“I can hold a beat!” You defend. “Besides, even if I can’t, I still got the world’s best dance teacher in the world. Not to mention the best boyfriend, who would love to teach the best girlfriend a few moves~”  

You bat your eyelashes as your tread closer to where he stood. Hoseok, not being able to resist when you acted like this, sighs before nodding his head. 

Leaning closer to pinch your cheeks, he restarts the music and rushes to stand behind you. “Alright, first you set your feet like this. Good, now, just simply swing your hips from side to side.” Doing as you were instructed, you weren’t expecting him to straight up start giggling in your ear. “N-Not like that - oh god…” 

“What?” You couldn’t help but laugh along with him. “What am I doing wrong, we haven’t even started yet!” 

“Exactly, you’re just that bad.” He continues to giggle. 

Pursing your lips at him through the mirror, the ghost of your grin from earlier made an appearance, as now was a more perfect time than any - finally being close enough to get what you’ve been wanting for the longest. Swiftly turning on your heel before he had time to catch his breath, you snaked your arms around his neck, pulling him closer than physically possible. If words could describe the look on his face - priceless.

“Jagi? W-What are you doing?” 

Using one finger to trace the back of his neck, you could practically feel him shiver at your touch. “You’ve been ignoring me for far too long, Hobi. I understand that this is important to you, I do. But, am I not important anymore?” 

He gulps, hands still upon your hips, the sensual beat of the music still playing in the background. Shaking his head slowly, eyes fluttering as you continued to tickle the back of his, Hoseok licks his lips once he found the right words. 

“Of course you are, I-I just..I’ve been busy lately, that’s all. You know how this tour is gonna be big for us, and I’ve just been-I’ve b-been-ah~” 

Not expecting you to just lean in while he was talking, and practically nip at his throat, Hoseok tightens his grip on your hips as small gasps fell from his lips. The faint taste of salt hits your tongue as it decides to join in the assault, marking him deeply to get your point across. 

Pulling away with a small pop, you marveled in the fact the he practically whined at the loss of contact. “I just wanted to give you a sneak preview of what you’ll miss out on when you leave. I could give you the full show, buuut…you seem busy~”

Before you could even think about pulling away, Hoseok didn’t even loosen his grip upon your hips, only tugging you even closer - until you could blatantly feel what you’ve just done to him. 

“Never too busy for you, princess. You officially have my attention~”  

Jimin

➸ Jimin thought it would be funny to ignore your desire for kisses all day. When you would lean in for a small one, he would swerve the other way. When you asked nicely, he’d make it seem like he would finally give you what you wanted - only to whisper a small ‘sike’ and run away. Even when you tried to sneak one, he was childish enough to hit you with a goddamn pillow.

You were not happy.

You wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine - you just didn’t know where to start. Jimin was slick, he was slippery - his friends made it look so easy to trick him, but whenever you tried, it always ends up blowing up in your face. What were you doing wrong?

“You’re trying to out-think Jimin with your brain, noona.” Jungkook would chuckle, patting your head.

“Is that not the normal thing to do when you want to trick someone?”

“Well, yeah, but he’s used to that type of method by now. I mean, all six of us have done it to him that way numerous of times. He’s expecting it.”

“Then, what do you propose I do - oh, wise Jeon Jungkook?” You raised up from laying face down on the couch, your eyebrow soon following. “Because, by all means, I’m all ears.”

The maknae does nothing but grin for a moment, before shrugging his shoulders. “Isn’t it obvious? You’re a woman, Y/n, his woman. Use that to your advantage - make him want you, instead of the other way around. You can trick him in a way us guys never could - with lust.”

You stayed silent as you stared at the younger with a disturbed expression. But, after a moment of replaying the advice in your head, it was scarily starting to make sense. Thanking him for his help, you make your way to your shared bedroom to change into something a little more…appropriate.

It was movie night in the BTS dorm, which was the perfect time to play out the maknae’s pure genius advice. Everyone was winded down, dressed in their pajamas and ready for you to start the movie. The only problem was - you were no where in sight. Taking a look around, Jimin asked Jungkook where you might have gone - since he was last to be with you.

“She went to go change, I think.” 

Smirking at the mere thought of you changing, Jimin thought that would be the perfect opportunity to tease you a little before the movie stared - then he could tease you some more while it played. Already so confident in his plan as he practically skipped to your shared bedroom, you could just imagine the color draining from his face once he caught sight of what you had changed into. You were wearing one of his shirts with a pair of boy shorts underneath. How he knew that, you wonder? When he walked in, you were practically bent over - searching for a movie that was kept in a little cabinet next to his bed - giving him a full view on what he’s been missing out on, all day long. 

You wouldn’t have known he came into the room until he let out a small, almost inaudible, whine from the door. A slow grin crept onto your face, as you did everything in your power to make your current position even more sensual than it already way. Wiggling your hips slowly, making it seem that you were trying to take some of the pressure off your knees, you could practically hear him drooling at the door. Hm, not too fun being a tease now is it? 

Deciding to finally stand, you played it off as if you hadn’t heard him come in, feigning innocence. “Oh, I didn’t see you there! Sorry I took so long, I was looking for your favorite~” 

You handed him the movie while keeping his intense eye contact. His mouth still hung open slightly as he stared, what he just witnessed left it dry and unable to produce words. It wasn’t until you slowly wrapped your arms around his shoulders, tilting your head to the side. You didn’t miss the subtle way his eyes trailed down the path of your exposed neck - your hair being up, and giving him full visual of the unmarked skin. 

“Is something the matter, ChimChim? You look a little troubled.” His mouth slowly closed followed by a lick to his bottom lip. Dropping the movie you had given to him, he went to wrap his arms around your waist - only for you to roughly grip them and pin him to the wall next to the door. Where that boost of strength came from was beyond him, but it sure was a turn on. 

Your innocent act didn’t take long to fly out the window, your face now just as dark and menacing as his. No longer having the patience to talk, you slowly lean in toward his plump awaiting lips, them parting slightly once again - anticipating the feel of yours after a whole day of avoiding them. But, the satisfying warmth your lips would give never came - making the boy scrunch his eyebrows in confusion. It wasn’t until he felt them attach to that spot below his ear, that his face instantly relaxed as a breathy moan fell from his own. 

But, as fast as the pleasure came - it was quick to go, as well. Back came the scrunch in his eyebrows as his eyes fluttered open, his breathing coming out in pants as he now stared at you with bewilderment. 

“Aw, you didn’t think after all the shit you’ve pulled today, I would give you what you want so easily, did you?” Looking down for a second, you bit your lip to keep from giggling at the painfully noticeable hard on he now had. 

“J-Jagi, you can’t leave me like this!” He practically whimpered, begging you with his eyes. “I’m sorry I was being a little shit all day - I promise I’ll make it up to you, please I need you so bad…”

“Will you be a good boy for me, Jiminie?” 

He gulps before nodding. “Y-You have my attention.” 

Taehyung 

➸ this gif is pretty explanatory lol 

Jungkook 

➸ as well as this one. 

|reaction masterlist|

Phantom - Bucky x Reader

TAKING REQUESTS

MASTERLIST

Summary: You lost your hand in an explosion and receives a metal one similar to Bucky’s.

Warnings: Injury (??)

Words: 2 192

Y/N: Woah it’s been a while since I posted I’m sorry bout that. Anyway, here’s some random Bucky thing I had in mind!

Originally posted by hospitalheaven


She slowly began to detect the light behind her closed eyelids. Images of the accident crashed into her mind like a hurricane, causing her heart to start beating furiously. She could still hear her own scream, still feel the pain.

“Y/N?” She could have sworn it was Bruce speaking, but his voice sounded distant. She could barely hear it.

She remembered the deafening ringing in her ears after the bomb had gone off. The warm wetness of her own blood on her face, staining her skin gruesomely. She remembered her body becoming paralyzed from the agony. Her throat had began to taste of blood from her dry and almost inhumanly loud scream.

“Y/N?” It was Steve, and she was certain this time around. She could hear him call her name somewhere in her dazed head. She wanted to pry her eyes open and look at the man, but she couldn’t.

She felt the numbness in her entire, right arm and felt her breathing become shallow as she realized what awaited her when she’d come to her senses.

“Calm down, Y/N. You’re okay now, alright? We’re all back at the Tower. Everyone of us are here and no one else is hurt.” Steve rambled, trying to reassure her. She wanted to cry both because she was scared and because she was happy. She didn’t cry for neither of those reasons as her body finally allowed her to even open her eyes.

The bright lights felt as if they burned her eyes like the sun itself. Her vision was blurry and unfocused yet she detected movement around her.

“Hey…” She felt the warmness of a hand on her arm, seeing what she recognized to be Steve’s figure in front of her. “Are you good? Do you feel okay?”

She shook her head no, but he knew what she meant. Bruce came to the other side of the hospital bed she laid in and and placed his hands on the handles along the sides.

“You remember, don’t you?” He suspected, eyes looking down at her with pity as she slowly nodded. Bruce and Steve exchanged a look over the bed before turning to look down at her again.

“Just take it slow. Remember that even if it isn’t your own flesh, it’s still you.” Steve smiled painfully and squeezed her left arm softly for further reassurance.

Not having it in her to wait any longer, she turned her head slightly towards her right and looked down, seeing the metal hand rest at her side and reaching up to her forearm where its edge was hidden behind bandages, her reddened and scarred arm continuing above the tightly wrapped fabric.

She whimpered, feeling sick to the very core of her bones. She couldn’t feel her entire arm due to the sedatives, but she would never be able to feel her hand again. It was gone, blown away by the bomb she had tried to grab and throw away before it exploded. Obviously, she had failed, and she would have to live with her actions for the rest of her life.

“Bucky has been with you day and night since we got home, but when you started to wake up, he said he couldn’t see your reaction to all of this, so he left…” Steve explained as he was sure she had already wondered where Bucky was, and he was right. Amongst the first things she noticed was the lack of his presence in the room as she woke up. She couldn’t be mad at him though. He had suffered through the loss of a limb before. Watching someone else do the same would bring up old memories she doubted were even remotely pleasant.

The change of subject calmed her down and distracted her from her lack of a right hand. Yet, she still thought of it subsequently as she thought of when Bucky would visit her.

“Don’t try and move your arm yet. You need to heal and rest before you do anything, arm or not… But I have to say, Tony did a superb work.“

She nodded before her mind began to drift again. "How long have I-” Steve held up a hand kindly to hinder her from speaking further and straining her voice.

“Two days, going on your third.” Steve answered, studying her closely to figure out how she was feeling. The amount of time she had been out did not seem to bother her but he could see her eyes continuously trying to catch a glimpse of her hand.

“Did everyone else make it?” She bit her lip as she tried to contain the overwhelming emotions that came crashing down on her like a wave.

“Yes. Everyone’s alright.” He assured. “You saved their lives… You’re a hero.”

She huffed, looking away from Steve. She didn’t feel like a hero even the slightest. She did not see their mission as accomplished but as failed. How could she be a hero when a third of her arm had been blown off? She didn’t understand Steve’s logic at all.

“It’s true.” He attempted to convince her. “I don’t doubt you feel pretty roughed up right now, but you saved the lives of a dozen people. Your sacrifice saved them.”

She bit down on her lip. She could feel the unexplainable loss of her hand. It felt as if it should be there at the same time as she could feel it was gone. She swore she could feel the tip of her fingers, but she didn’t feel them at all. It was all games that her mind played.

“When can I move it?” She managed to ask Bruce who had been silent for a while. He cleared his throat and looked down at her bionic hand.

“Your nerves were also injured in the explosion. Your new hand is already connected to your nerve system but it will all need a few days to heal and adapt.” He looked her in the eyes briefly. “An exact time is impossible to determine.”

She nodded vaguely and propped her head to the center of her pillow and stared up at the ceiling. Only a second after, the door opened, and in came Bucky. She looked up at him but he didn’t meet her stare. His glossed-over eyes went instantly to her hand and his jaw tightened. He would never admit it, but he had cried for her. The turmoil and torture he had gone through because of his own arm was too much for himself to grasp. For something so awful to happen to such a pure girl like Y/N had been harder on him than he would have thought.

“Bucky helped a lot.” Steve said as he noticed his old friend stare speechlessly at Y/N’s new hand. She looked up at Steve. “He let Tony completely break down his arm to create as good of a hand as we could for you.”

She barely believed the Captain. “Really?” She turned towards Bucky whose cheeks were flushing red. “Thank you.”

He didn’t want to be thanked. He wanted to be forgiven. He should have attempted to disarm the bomb, not Y/N. It should have been him.


Bucky made his way to the roof of the Stark Tower, knowing Y/N was there. Ever since Tony was so kind to build a medium sized greenhouse there after her accident, knowing how much she loved gardening, she had dedicated most of her wake time to her hobby. Partially it was because she liked gardening, the other part was because she was hiding from everyone. She didn’t want them to see her struggle with her new hand but would rather practice alone.

The luscious greenhouse came into his sight. The plants around the walls grew so thickly it was impossible to spot Y/N through them. He walked up to the open, glass door and looked down the pebble isle in the center. Further down the isle, Y/N was kneeling on the soft rocks and holding a watering can with both her hands.

He knocked twice on the open doors to make her aware of his presence. Her eyes snapped up in surprise and almost as if it was a reflex, her left hand covered her fright one.

“You don’t have to hide it.” He said as he took slow steps further inside the warm and humid greenhouse which smelled heavenly of jasmine and white tobacco. “Not to me.”

He waved his left arm in the air childly and smiled as he heard her chuckle softly at his goofy behavior. Her smile faded and she looked down at her hands. Hesitantly, she dragged her left hand away and exposed the metal one to the rays of sunshine that managed to seep past the greenery around her. Bucky stared at it, hating that he felt comfort from such a tragic thing. He just didn’t want to be alone, and he wish Y/N would somehow understand that.

“How are your plants feeling?” He tried to have a casual conversation. He walked inside to the opening in the isle where there was a small shed for all of Y/N tools but also a bench where Bucky took a seat.

She shook her head clear, trying to keep up with his mood swinging and topic changing. “Good.” Her eyes traveled around her personal slice of heaven which she was unimaginably grateful for. Her eyes locked onto the rich, red strawberries which grew along the pathway through the greenhouse in a narrow line. She picked a big and juicy looking one, standing up and bringing it to Bucky. “Here, try it! It’s a mix of strawberries and wild strawberries. They’re extra sweet.”

Bucky raised his metal hand and Y/N hadn’t realized she had picked the strawberry with her right one, her new one. Embarrassed and ashamed, she still placed the berry in Bucky’s palm. Their fingers accidentally touched and the metal on metal clinked. She pulled her hand back and took a deep breath. She tried to convince herself to stop being such a baby, especially considering that it was Bucky sitting in front of her who had a metal hand of his own to care about.

He took a bite of the strawberry and chewed on it for a bit longer to let the flavor get to him. After a few moments, he let out a small grown and nodded pleasingly. “That is ridiculously good.” He looked at the rest of the strawberry in his hand with amazement. “I’m just gonna put it on the record, but if you get up here one day and all of your strawberries are gone, it might have been me.”

She chuckled again and it warmed him to see her happy. God knows she deserved it.

“How are you doing, by the way? I know you don’t want to talk about your hand but I just want to know that you don’t need help handling things or something.” He couldn’t contain himself. The reason he had came up to her greenhouse was to see that she was alright. Of course, he didn’t at allied just watching her care for her flowers and other greens. He simply enjoyed being in her presence and there was something peaceful about the small greenhouse she had created on the roof of the Stark Tower, surrounded by city everywhere you looked. He loved it, just as she did.

She looked down at her hand. It was still wrapped with bandages where the metal was connected with the skin. She knew how it looked underneath, and it looked bad. Her skin was sizzled and the dents where bubbles had formed in the heat of the explosion had created round dents in her skin. It was brutal, grotesque, and she didn’t want to ever remove it.

“Alright.” She said after a long pause. “I mean, I’m doing fine. I can do practically anything. It’s the mental part that’s not really keeping up.” She tried to laugh it off, like it wasn’t a big deal, but Bucky knew it was. He had been in her shoes more times than she could imagine. Broken and afraid, hating yourself.

“I’m always here, you know that right?” He startled her by asking. He had never been so open to her before. “If you ever want to talk, you know. I’m one of the few around here that can relate to what you’re going through.”

She huffed again, almost laughing. “You’re the only one Bucky. Last time I checked, no one else has a bionic limb here.”

He leaned back on the bench, eating up the rest of the strawberry casually. “Even more reason for you to spend some extra time with me.”

Queen in the North {Pt. 2}

Originally posted by ladysarah94

Requested: By myself, because I am Trash™. Also some other absolutely lovely people.

Pairings: Robb Stark x Reader

Previously: {Part 1}

Summary: Y/N was sent to live with The Stark family at a young age, and ever since then, she seemed to fit perfectly, maybe even more than she had ever noticed.

Warnings: I just watched the episode so fluff to the max

Word Count: 2,433

A/N: I am so pleased to see how many of you like the first part to this, and I sincerely hope that the second part is even better! Special shoutout to @secretschuylersister for looking over this/encouraging me to actually post it. If you have any requests, please feel free to send them to my ask box!

It was nice of Sansa to say that she was almost done poking and prodding and adjusting your dress, even if you all knew that it was a lie. Sansa had and affinity for dressing you up, claiming that if she tried it with Arya, she would lose a finger. You couldn’t say that the idea was entirely off base.

The dress was lovely. It looked a bit delicate in comparison to the usual style that ladies favored in Winterfell.  It was somehow different and you’re the same as the dresses that you favored on an everyday basis. Although you had lived in Winterfell for most of your life, your mother and father had lived much farther south.

So, you tended to favor lighter dresses, made of silk and lace in a wide array of colors. Jon liked to tease you that you were the brightest thing to ever live in Winterfell. What you didn’t know is how much Robb silently agreed with him. The dress was white, with layers of gray peeking through towards the bottom. It was lovely, although you had no idea how Sansa had managed such a lovely effect in the short amount of time since she had asked you about making a dress.

“I may have been working on it for a little while before I asked if it was okay,” she said, picking it up off of the bed and motioning for you to change into it. “But I knew that you were going to say yes anyways.”

You laughed, she was right. You had a hard time telling people no, especially when they were doing something so nice for you. After all, the Starks were your family. And if they were willing to put the time in to help you, then there was no way that you were going to refuse. It did make your schedule feel a bit cramped at times, in between dagger lessons with Arya and the boys, knitting with Sansa and tea with Lady Stark, who was forever insisting that you call her Catelyn, there were never enough hours in the day, something you often fought about with Robb.

“Well then, put it on!” Sansa laughed, tossing you the dress and pulling out her needle and thread, claiming that there were a few alterations that needed to be made. Sansa worked in silence, adding a few stitches here and there. And somehow, when she was done, the dress looked even more spectacular. She had managed to somehow make it fit you like a glove at the top, yet have the perfect amount of sway and flow in the skirts.

“Thank you, Sansa,” you said, admiring the skirts in her mirror. If you hadn’t been so caught up in how nice it was for Sansa to make you this lovely dress, you might have noticed the smug look on her face as she admired you admiring her dress. And you might have noticed that you were wearing in the Stark family’s colors. “But I really think that I should go see if your mother needs help preparing-”

“I was downstairs with her all morning. While you were fretting over nothing, I was making sure that you didn’t have an excuse to run away.” She laughed, guiding you over to the chair that was set up in front of her mirror. “Now, you have to stay and let me do something with this.” She sighed, motioning to the braid that you wore every day. Sansa took your braid in her hands, making quick work of fanning it out across your shoulders, running a brush gently through the ends or your hair.

“I cannot understand why you never take the time to style your hair unless I force you to. You know that anyone would do anything for you.” Sansa rain her hands through your hair, twisting it one way and then another, attempting to choose a style for that evening.

“I would rather spend my time with other engagements. And I’m sure that every single person in this castle has at least five things that they need to be doing at any given time. And shockingly, none of them include helping me with my hair.” You laughed, raising an eyebrow at her in the mirror.

“And does one of those things include pretending that you aren’t in love with my brother? Or is that simply a given, considering it is something that you do every waking minute of every day?”

You felt yourself tense, your shoulders locking back into place and your teeth grinding against each other. Sansa, on the other hand, continued brushing your hair into place, humming a soft tune to herself. You wished that you had an appropriate comeback, but you were left to sit there, mouth agape, while Sansa fussed with your hair for longer than should have been possible.

You’d hoped that you would have a bit of time to yourself before the feast that evening, but Sansa had insisted that a bit of rouge had never hurt anyone. By the time that she decided you were ready, the both of you were late.

“A queen never arrives at her own party on time.” Sansa laughed as you hurried down the hall. You hated to be late, and it seemed that the only time you were more than a few seconds late to anything was when Sansa insisted on helping you get ready.

“Then it’s really too bad that I am not a queen.” you reminded her, withholding a glare.

She snorted at you in a very un Sansa-like way, simply brushing past you and breezing easily into the banquet. You, on the other hand, were not nearly as confident. You took a moment to steady yourself, a moment to catch your breath, before stepping into the banquet hall.

The noise and liveliness of the hall erupted around you, pulling you in. You glanced around, taking in the musicians and the dancers that took up most of the space in the large banquet hall. And as much as you didn’t want to admit it, you were elated to see Robb standing with Jon and Theon near the edge of the dance floor.

You gathered up your expansive skirts, making your way along the edge of the room to the boys.

“Well don’t you just look dashing in the Stark colors?” Jon teased you, gesturing for you to do a twirl.

You landed a punch on his arm, not hard enough to actually hurt him, but firm enough to tell him to shut his big mouth, paired with an expression that told him you were going to pretend to be cross with him for a while. “If you must know, your lovely sister made me this gown, and as usual I had no say about the colors. But, I’m sure that it is just coincidence.” You attempted to sound sincere, even though you knew what Sansa was most likely thinking when she was picking out the material.

You pretended to listen to the boys ramble on about one thing or another, but your eyes were scanning the room in search of Arya. You knew that she was not particularly fond of feasts, so you always made a point to seek her out and reassure her, even if it was only for a few minutes. After few moments of searching, you spotted her, slumped into a chair, looking like she would much rather be anywhere else but here.

You felt Robb’s hand rest on the small of your back, attempting to draw your attention away from the very important matter at hand. “Y/N, do you want to-”

“Maybe in a minute, Robb,” you said, already making your way over to Arya, not even bothering to look back towards the sound of Jon’s booming laughter.

“Arya!” you laughed, taking her hands in your own and pulling her out of the chair. “Won’t you come and dance with me?”

“You know that I have been skipping my lessons,” she mumbled, refusing to meet your eyes. Somehow, she was in a worse mood than usual.

“I never said that we were going to make our way through the most boring waltz in existence.” You were already halfway to the band, who looked almost as morose as Arya, which wasn’t surprising when you thought about the music that they were being forced to play. “If this is to be the mood for the entire evening, we are all going to die of boredom.”

You let go of Arya’s hands for a few moments to whisper your instructions to the band. They all seemed to perk up immediately, sitting up in their chairs, the light coming back into their eyes. The tune changed from the sullen one that you had grown accustomed to hearing, to one that was jubilant and full of life. Reclaiming Arya’s hands in your own, your spun her around, prancing around in ridiculous circles until a smile finally graced her lips, and then a small laugh bubbled through, and you knew that your work was done.

You gave her one last smile, twirling her in another circle before stumbling off of the dance floor. All of the spinning had made you a bit dizzy, and with all of the skirts that Sansa had swaddled you up in, you weren’t surprised that you had nearly tripped a few times before you had even made it away from the dancers.

Robb’s hand found the small of your back, guiding you away from the mass of bodies that had swarmed the dance floor. You would have been surprised, especially because you hadn’t thought that Robb was anywhere near you, but he had a habit of turning up when you needed someone.

“What was it that you wanted earlier?” You asked breathlessly, collapsing into the chair that he had guided you to.

“Do you remember when my mother was so angry at us for sneaking into these feasts that she made us attend all of those dreadful dancing lessons?” Robb asked, smiling at Arya dancing with Rickon among the masses.

“Of course I do,” you laughed, recalling the many afternoons you had spent with your slightly nasty dance master. “Your mother was so sure that we would never turn up to another ball again if we had to take those lessons, but you were at every single lesson.”

“Naturally, you were so excited, and there was no way that I was going to miss it when you tripped over your own two feet.”

“If I recall correctly, you were always responsible for catching me after I messed up a new step.” You lazily punched him in the shoulder, but the laughter died in your throat as Robb caught your fist and linked his hand with yours.

“And I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

It wasn’t the act of holding his hand in yours that caused your breathing to falter. You had been holding pinkies since you had met, so after that, what was a hand? It was the way that his eyes were staring into yours, unwavering. For the first time in a long time, you felt yourself blushing because of Robb Stark.

It wasn’t something that happened often, the two of you had grown up together, after all. Your mother had been best friends with Cat, and when they passed away, it was no question that you were going to stay with Ned and his family.

You had been quiet when you arrived at Winterfell for the first time. It had only been a day or two since your mother and father had moved on, taken from you suddenly by a terrible affliction. You were assured that your friends would all be waiting for you, but that wasn’t good enough. You wanted your parents.

And even though you constantly reminded Robb of that, he was there for you at every turn. Bringing you a flower he found near a spring, hoping to make you smile, or telling you a poorly thought out joke, just waiting for just a glimpse of the dimples he used to know so well. And as much as you wanted to give him a glimpse of your former self, you needed time. Somehow, even at such a young age, both of you understood. And you had remained solemn, until one afternoon, he heard a giggle echoing from her chambers.

Robb threw open the door to find you sifting through a drawer full of dried flowers, picking them up one by one and examining them. He marched into the room, demanding to know why you had been so sad before. You never had been able to give him an answer, simply handing him one of the flowers and telling him that you were sorry. You never had offered him an explanation for those first few weeks.

“Y/N?” Robb’s voice and both of his hands cupping yours somehow managing to effectively draw you back to reality. “Are you okay?” his voice was soft, almost as if he was afraid to scare you away. He should know better than that by now.

“I was thinking about when I first came to live with you, well everyone. And you worried yourself over making me feel welcome, and you were so confused when you found me with that drawer full of flowers.” You sounded dreamy, still thinking about the days when things felt easier.

“You never did tell me why you kept all of those flowers. Especially when they never made you smile in the first place.” He smiled down at your hands, where his thumb was stroking the back of your hand.

“Because I knew that they were going to make me happy eventually,” You met his eyes, hoping that he understood what you were trying to tell him. “And I was right, wasn’t I?” Robb looked like he was going to answer, but you were finished wasting time moping about when there was a party going on. “Let’s dance, Stark.”

And without another word, the two of you were out of your chairs and headed for the dance floor. The musicians had kept their promise, and the music was lively. You were pleased to see that Arya had dragged Sansa into a group of dancers, and it brought a smile to your face to see that everyone was happy, for the time being. It was rare to stumble upon a moment where someone wasn’t squabbling, and when you managed to find one, you most certainly weren’t going to take it for granted.

Read Part Three Here!

Daydream

Reader x Klaus Mikaelson

(NOT MY GIF)

*Requested smut

Imagine: Klaus is overwhelmed with everything that is happening on his life, so he leaves you all alone to work some stuff out. Then, when he comes back, he finds you playing with yourself and decides to punish you in the best way he knows.

Word Count: 2144

A/N: may be the dirtiest thing I’ve ever written, so I hope you enjoy it. :)


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it’s gonna take a lot to drag me away from you

summary: it’s hard for eddie to find his soulmate when the only indicator is a song in your head (but richie finds a way)

warnings: kissing, excessive amount of the song africa by toto (fr only because all of yall love it so much and i wanna please yall), and a very cheesy ending!!

read on ao3 here

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Cross-promotion................

Well shit! I’m not going to lie, that little stunt chapped my ass a little bit. In fact, I got so pissed I couldn’t see straight, but I never once directed that anger towards the girls. I knew what it was, and I took it as such. That doesn’t mean I can’t get mad about the stunts being pulled, but that’s all last nights “shade” was. A promotional stunt meant to garner headlines for both Fifth Harmony and Camila. It’s called cross-promotion, and it worked like a charm.

We should have known something was coming, and some of us did expect something. The girls’ social media activity told us shit was coming, we just didn’t know what. There have been “insiders” showing up on 5H forums left and right trying to “explain” what was happening. They have “spilled tea” about a number of ideas. I’ve heard the girls were trying to “sabotage” Camila’s solo career, all the way to Epic is trying to “sabotage” 5H and Camila’s career. With all that “insider gibberish”, I knew something was coming at the VMA’s, and that it wasn’t going to look good.

There were a few things I tried to keep in mind, going into the VMA’s. What we’ve seen, what we’ve learned, and what we’ve been told. Once you connect all the dots, you find the real story in all this mess. Let’s connect the dots and find the real story.

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Queen in the North {Pt. 6}

Originally posted by rickdixonandthefandomlifeposts

Requested: By the loveliest people to ever walk the Earth

Pairings: Robb Stark x Reader

Previously: {Part 1} {Part 2} {Part 3} {Part 4} {Part 5}

Summary: Y/N was sent to live with The Stark family at a young age, and ever since then, she seemed to fit perfectly, maybe even more than she had ever noticed.

Warnings: none that I can think of tbh

Word Count:  2,149

Tag List: @secretschuylersister @rainwing-galaxy @mystic-platypus77 @ly–canthrope  @beautifulsomethings 

“What are you doing today?” Robb asked from his spot on your bed, his hand running lazily through Grey Wind’s fur.

“I planned on helping Sansa bake a few lemon cakes, and Arya had asked about-”

“I already cancelled your plans.” You lost track of the braid that you were currently working into your hair as you turned to give Robb a dirty look.

“What do you mean that you have cancelled all of my plans?”

“I mean that we are having a ‘Just Us’ day, and that I was not going to wait around for you to have a free day in order to make it happen.”

Just Us days were a tradition that had stuck with you from your first few weeks in Winterfell. They were exactly what they sounded like. A day that you and Robb could spend alone, taking the time to slow down in between your many lessons and duties through the years. They were getting harder and harder to coordinate as you grew older.

“Robb, we just had a few weeks worth of just us days.” You said, moving to sit opposite him on the bed. I think that my other responsibilities are a bit more pressing than sitting around with you and Grey Wind, as much as I adore the both of you.“

Robb’s hand found yours, gently looping your pinkies together in a way that caused your heart to flutter. "A few weeks of you waiting on me hand and foot. I hardly think that counts as a break for you.”

“I have so much to catch up on and-”

“Winterfell didn’t fall apart because you neglected your responsibilities for a few weeks. I think that everyone can last one more day while you take a break.”

You searched for a reason to say no, but what Robb was saying did make a lot of sense. Furthermore, Grey Wind was giving you the same eyes that he did while begging for table scraps. You all knew that they always worked.

You sighed and managed to meet Robb’s eyes long enough to nod once. Robb grinned, taking both of your hands in his and allowing himself a moment to think before standing up and making his way to the door, Grey Wind following close behind him. He paused in the doorway, eyes sweeping around the room. “I will meet you at your bench as soon as you are ready.” He made his way down the hall, and you hurried to finish the braid in your hair and pack a few necessities in a bag before rushing down the stairs to meet him.

“I have absolutely no idea what took you so long.” Robb laughed, linking your arms together and throwing your bag over his shoulder.

You caught Sansa’s eye as Robb lead you across the courtyard. Even you couldn’t miss the twinkle in her eye before she turned and made her way inside. Thankfully, the day was warm, and Robb’s light hearted laughter was enough to draw your attention away from wondering what Sansa might have been planning.

The walk to the woods felt shorter than you remembered it from when you were children. That might have had something to do with the fact that your legs were considerably longer, and you were distracted by Robb’s pinky, which was currently linked with your own. You found the pond in record time, Robb taking the opportunity to spread out a blanket while you played with Grey Wind in the clearing. You couldn’t help but laugh as the direwolf pranced around the clearing.

You had missed this. You loved your family, but there were times when your responsibilities piled up. Robb had always somehow known when it got to be too much, and you were forever grateful for his weird sixth sense about your stress levels. You chased Grey Wind around the clearing laughing when he turned and pounced on you, causing you both to tumble to the forest floor.

“I spent all this time laying out a blanket so that you wouldn’t get Sansa’s lovely new creation dirty, and here you are rolling in the dirt.” Robb’s voice was stern, but when you managed to tear your gaze away from Grey Wind, you saw him smiling. An honest to gods, Robb smile. The one where his eyes crinkled at the sides. It was one of your favorite smiles of all time, and you were happy to have it to yourself today.

“Up you come,” Robb said, offering you a hand and pulling you off of the ground. You underestimated the amount of strength he was going to put into pulling you up, and meant to stand up on your own. This resulted in you practically launching yourself onto him.

“Hi there.” You said softly, your nose a few centimeters away from Robb’s.

“Hi.” Robb was making no move to step away, until Grey Wind began to whine at his feet. “I think someone is hungry.”

You glanced down at the direwolf and you couldn’t help but smile. Grey Wind was loyal and fierce, but you and Robb did love to spoil him rotten.

Robb chuckled to himself and took your hand before leading you over to the picnic that he had set up for the two of you. He had managed to get all of your favorites, even though some of the fruit was out of season and sometimes proved troublesome to get to the North. There were lemon cakes, strawberries, and even a large piece of mutton for Grey Wind. You tossed him his well earned treat before tucking into one of the lemon cakes.

“I hope you saved some of these for Sansa. You know that if she finds out you didn’t she won’t speak to you for days.” You said, grinning in between bites.

“Always looking out for me.” Robb laughed, while you pretended that your face wasn’t warming up. “I did leave her a few, only because I knew that you would yell at me the entire trip back if I didn’t.”

“Let’s do something fun.” You say, sitting up and glancing around the clearing. Grey Wind had fallen asleep, and Robb looked like he wasn’t far behind his faithful companion. “Let’s climb a tree.”

After Robb chose to ignore your perfectly reasonable suggestion, you decided that you were going to do what you wanted. You marched over to the tree and only spared Robb one last look over your shoulder before hiking up your dress and making your way onto one of the sturdier looking branches.

As you sat down on the branch, you couldn’t help but feel proud of yourself. Maybe a little too proud of yourself for what you had actually accomplished. Although it was something that would seem insignificant to others, you were always a clumsy child, and had never actually made it up and into a tree before you fell out or someone yelled at you to stop before you hurt yourself.

Robb let out a surprised laugh at the sight of you perched on the branch. You couldn’t help yourself, and before long a giggle became a full on belly laugh. You grabbed your stomach that was starting to ache from the laughter.

That was a mistake.

Before you could stop yourself, you were sliding off of the branch. It all happened so quickly that you were not even able to let out a scream. Grey Wind was by your side in seconds, Robb not far behind.

“I should have known better than to let you into a tree.” Robb said softly, allowing you to lean against him while you acclimated to being in the ground.

“My arm hurts.” you said softly into the crook of Robb’s neck.

“I know. We will have it looked at as soon as we get back.” Robb scooped you up in his arms, being as gentle as possible. You walked for a few minutes, before you remembered the picnic that was still laid out for the two of you in the clearing.

“I’m sorry.” you said quietly, breaking the silence that was hanging between the two of you. Robb simply rose his eyebrows at you. “I know that you probably had better plans for us today. You know, ones that didn’t include me falling out of a tree.”

“You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for.” Robb’s voice was soft, but there was a quiet command in it as well.

“I knew I was clumsy before I climbed up that tree.” you said, moving your uninjured arm to loop around his shoulder.

“But you also knew that I was usually there to catch you. Maybe I should be apologizing.” Robb muttered, refusing to meet your eyes.

“Robb,” you said quietly, forcing him to look at you. “I feel safe with you. This is no one’s fault. Not really.” He was silent again, and you knew that it would be better to let him work through his feelings on his own. “It’s fine” you said quietly, running your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. “I’m fine, or at least I will be when we get back.”

The two of you were nearly back to the castle, and you could feel at least a bit of the tension beginning to melt from his shoulders.

“I could walk, you know.” Robb grunted, barely acknowledging what you were saying. He merely shifted you in his arms, somehow managing to pull you closer to him.

You sighed to yourself, and allowed him to carry you up into the infirmary. Robb began to explain what happened as Old Nan gently examine your arm. All of the words fell on deaf ears, until Old Nan confidently announced that your arm was not broken. “Although there will certainly be some bruising, as long as you stay away from trees, everything will be fine in maybe a week.”

“That’s good,” Robb said, once again linking his pinky with your own. “We wouldn’t want you in a sling for the wedding.”

You felt your entire body tense up, and your eyes widen. Old Nan quickly sat down the wrap that she was putting away and made her way out of the room.

“What did you just say?” you asked, timidly. You might have misunderstood him, maybe you were all attending a wedding in a few days. It wouldn’t have been the first time that you all were required to attend some distant cousin’s wedding. And most of all, you didn’t want to get your hopes up.

“I was thinking about our wedding. You would still look beautiful in a sling, but I think that it would be better for everyone if you were mobile”

“Robb?” Your heart was racing. Robb truly was talking about your wedding. The only problem was that he hadn’t proposed yet. “You haven’t asked.”

“Asked what?”

“You haven’t asked me to marry you yet.” Robb blinked a few times, as if you were speaking Valyrian all of a sudden. “I mean, unless you were just assuming that I was going to say yes. I mean,”

“That’s what I forgot to do today.” Robb was grinning to himself. He sat down across from you on the bed and took both of your hands in his. “I had a much better setting planned out for all of this, I’ll have you know.” Suddenly, you were grinning too. “I had great speech planned out too. Guess it’s kind of useless now.”

You could feel your eyes watering, and if Robb’s hands weren’t holding your own, you were sure that they would be shaking.

“It doesn’t matter. This is perfect,” you said, your voice hardly above a whisper.

“So, will you?” Robb looked as if he was on the verge of tears as well. “Marry me that is.”

“Of course I will, you absolute dolt.”

The both of you were grinning, and maybe even crying a little, and then he was kissing you. And even though would never admit it, you had imagined this a thousand times over. But this? This was even more perfect than you ever could have imagined it. You felt yourself smiling into the kiss, and then Robb was smiling too.

He pulled away slowly and then gently rested his forehead against yours. “I love you.” he said,  before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“And I you.” Before you could say anything else, Grey Wind shoved his head in between the two of you, having gone without attention for long enough. “And I love you too.” you laughed, leaning down to plant a kiss on his head.

“Have I mentioned how much I love the both of you?” Robb asked, smiling down at the two of you.

You leaned back onto Robb, resting your head on his shoulder. “You have, but you could always tell me again.” 

{PART 4} I Won’t Stop You // Jeon Jungkook, Vampire!AU

Originally posted by jengkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Fantasy, Angst, Smut 

Summary; As Jungkook learns more about you and your life, you find yourself wondering what it would be like to date a man of his power - before asking him something you’d never thought he’d say yes to; not in a million years.

{Part 1} {Part 2} {Part 3} {Part 4} {Part 5}

I update this series every Tuesday evening, 9pm-10pm (UK Time)

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Title: Curiosity Killed the Cat; Satisfaction Brought Him Back
Tag List:
@undertakershairline @mewsicalmiss @romananalogicality @rose-gold-roman @thegoldenmink @the-prince-and-the-emo @theawesomestofsauces @jellyjam24 @sabriel-fanboy-83 @the-sanders-sides @amazable01 @milk-withtwosugars @bbcanimefangirl @analogically-prinxiety @asexual-trashbag @calz-craze @gayfagg @gracefullyinsanedancingunicorn @phandemoniumclub @virgils-anxiety @natalie-wheres-the-tampons @hrtnsolofytube @greymane902 @ashrain5 @fandom-screamings @mira-jadeamethyst @cefmua56 @colie7700 @madd-catter @leesacrakon @a-blog-just-for-sanders @doesdanielhowelisgay @viva-la-nordics @just-fic-me-up @justanotherpurplebutterfly @thebeautyofthomas

Virgil had a notebook.  A kind of worn out, once black notebook with purple pen scratches all across the front.  The others rarely got to see this notebook, but they were well aware of its existence. For the most part, no one dared to ask what it was for or if they could see it.  No one, not even Patton, was curious enough to risk the little bit of trust and confidence building between them and the anxious side.  

That is…until Virgil got more confident and trusted them more.

The notebook made its way out of his room more and more, finding its way onto the coffee table, dining table, the counters, and the sofa much more often.  Every now and then one of them would catch Virgil with his knees to his chest scribbling away in the book, and just seeing it drove them crazy.

To say that Logan wasn’t dying to know what was in the book would have been the biggest lie ever told in the mind palace.  As the logical side, he was also the side that enjoyed learning the most.  Learning, observing…dying of curiosity.  Secrets were not his thing.  They were not his “jam.”  What was his “jam” was figuring out why Virgil hid the notebook when he was using it.

And now, he had an opportunity.

“Be right back,” Virgil mumbled.  The anxious side hopped up from his spot on the other end of the sofa and dragged his notebook into his spot.  Logan watched him leave and round the corner to his room, and it didn’t take long for all of that curiosity to come rushing to the forefront of his mind.

What could be in this mysterious notebook?  Drawings?  Logan thought of all the possibilities for Virgil Drawings.  From a Tim Burton-esque style all the way down to an Invader Zim style. Mainly monsters or gore…or possibly he’d be full of surprises and fill the notebook with drawings that calmed him? Kittens, puppies, maybe a few koalas or red pandas?  Or maybe he was a classic early 2000s emo child and filled his notebook with stitched-up, bandaged-up, and bleeding hearts?  

Perhaps the notebook contained his thoughts.  What a trip that would be.  Thoughts and analyses of ever scenario Thomas encountered.  It’d probably be a mish-mash and assorted lists of words indecipherable to anyone but Virgil.

But then…Virgil had said before that he wrote.  Sonnets, at least.  Could this notebook be his writings…?

Logan caught his hand gravitating toward the book, and he snatched the offending digits back against his chest.  No, he couldn’t.  He would not be the first to break.  Virgil would share the contents of the book when he felt he was ready, and Logan would just have to respect that.  

…But he wouldn’t even know if Logan took a quick peak just to see what Virgil used the notebook for…

…But that would still be abusing Virgil’s trust.  He left the book there out of trust.  

But-!

“I’m back,” Virgil announced, throwing himself down on top of the book.  He pulled it back out from underneath himself and opened it up to wherever he’d left off. “Needed a different blue.”

Ah.  Drawings. Had to be.

…Right?

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How I Overcame Reader’s Block (And So Can You!)

As a kid, I adored reading.  Okay, more specifically, I enjoyed reading about dragons, but that’s not the issue here.  

It frequently coincided with my equally as intense love of climbing trees, and some of my fondest memories involve being perched in a small tree and reading some hopelessly goofy, dragon-related literature while my mom and toddler siblings used the playground equipment.  If no climbable trees were available, I’d settle for reading under one and drinking a thermos of chocolate milk while they ran around in the park. 

As I got older, my tastes got a little more eclectic as I encountered Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, Anne Shirley, the residents of Narnia and Middle Earth, respectively, and much to my mother’s horror, Stephen King, but my passion remained more or less the same.    

Bottom line is, I loved reading.  It was my paramount joy, my primary source of entertainment, and I didn’t think that would ever change.

So imagine my shock when, around my sophomore year of college at the age of seventeen, it occurred to me that I hadn’t really read for pleasure since I discovered the Hunger Games a year or two prior.  Moreover, and equally as horrifically, when I tried to read I found I couldn’t focus;  regardless of the quality of the story and how much I wanted to read it, the investment was gone.

Whether this was due to my first stint with organized education (prior to college, I was homeschooled) or the fact that I’d grown accustomed to the bite-sized chunks of candy-flavored, insubstantial information served up by the internet, the sad and simple fact was that I had fallen out of love with reading, and it looked like it was going to stay that way forever.   

Well, flash forward two-point-five years to Present-Day Brooksie, and since school got out in early May, I’ve read Chuck Palahniuk’s Make Something Up: Stories You Can’t Unread, Ruth Ware’s In a Dark, Dark Wood, Emma Straub’s The Vacationers, Neil Gaiman’s The Graveyard Book, and Celeste Ng’s Everything I Never Told You.  Despite the disappointing lack of dragons, I loved all of them.    

I drink books like nectar again, if you’ll pardon the floral language, and everything from the quality of my writing to the quality of my life has improved as a result of it.  

So how did I fall back in love with reading?  Well, I’ve spent a lot of time pontificating on this, and as far as I can tell, it can be narrowed down to three factors:

1.  Reading every day.

It started with lunch.  Every day, when I’d sit down at my university cafe, I used to get out my laptop and watch YouTube or whatnot while I ate my sandwich – a cool idea in theory, but really sort of gross whenever I rubbed my greasy fingers on the mouse and keyboard. 

When I made a conscious decision to read more, I began taking out my book and reading during the lunch period instead.  It didn’t come naturally at first – I was easily distracted and kept zoning out – but I ultimately found it very pleasant, especially when I listened to some classical music in the background as well (nice for atmosphere, and for drowning out noise and distractions.)  

I kept doing it.  

When that summer rolled around, I rediscovered an amazing little outdoor cafe by the harbor.  It had no wifi, which for my purposes, was absolutely perfect.

I went there to read Good Omens and eat home baked lemon squares, pie, and banana bread, listening to international tourists speak in other languages, and watch the boats go by.  It was a beautiful environment, and that (coupled with the fact that Good Omens is just really fucking awesome) made it easier than ever for me to want to stay longer and become more engrossed in what I was reading.

Afterwards, I’d take out my notebook and work on my own stories and journal.  Overall, I’d say that summer was one of the most intellectually productive I’ve had.  

Once school started again, it got a little harder to read every day, but by then my love of reading had pretty much caught:  it had become an intellectual drug for me again, a source of comfort, pleasure, and inspiration.  Also, it was another viable excuse to procrastinate on my academic responsibilities, which was always welcome.  So I kept reading.  It was still a relatively slow process, as I had to work around my already busy schedule, but the more I read the more adept I became at drinking in the information in hungry, satisfying gulps (a bit more suggestive than I’d initially intended that metaphor to be, but I’m going to go with it.)

But this isn’t to say that there were no bumps in the road back to bibliophilia.  There was another factor that I had to grasp before I reached the point where I could unabashedly adore reading once again.

Which is: 

2.  Reading what excites me.

No, I’m not speaking sexually, you pervert.  I’m talking about books I actually want to read.  

When I first started trying to get back into literature, I started trying to read the classics exclusively, like Around the World in Eighty Days and Little Women.  Let me be clear, these books are amazing (excluding the jarring amounts of racism and endorsements of British colonialism in the former) but after semesters of reading similar works for my literature seminars, they just felt a little like…academia.  

In fact, the only reason I was insistent on reading classics exclusively, I now realize, was because I was a pretentious, pseudo intellectual little shit back in those days with a horrible case of impostor syndrome.  What I needed to re-learn was what dragon-loving, Ten-Year-Old Brooksie long since already knew: the best way to enjoy reading is to read what you actually enjoy.

It was a lesson I slowly but surely remastered, and it took me a while to realize that modern literature is teaming with smart, enriching reads, like Life of Pi, American Gods, Where’d You Go Bernadette, The Twelve Tribes of Hattie, The Help, Everything I Never Told You, and countless others.  

Moreover, these were books I didn’t have to force myself to read;  they were books I found myself reading at four AM because I didn’t want to stop.  

I’ve also discovered classics that I can eat up in a matter of days, like A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (Which absolutely everyone should read, by the way:  Francie Nolan is a feminist icon, and way, way ahead of her time, not to mention it’s fucking hilarious and will make you cry like a little bitch), Jane Eyre, and basically anything written by Jane Austen.  I love these books for their sharp wit, applicable and timeless life observations, and striking lack of the pretentiousness that I’d come to associate with a lot of classic literature.

This summer, I my reading list includes Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse 5, Douglas Adams’ The Restaurant at the End of the Universe, Chuck Palahniuk’s Fight Club, Louis Sachar’s Holes, Anthony Doerr’s All the Light We Cannot See, and Neil Gaiman’s Anansi Boys.  I’m looking forward to reading each and every one of them. 

Ultimately, the point I’m trying to make here is that there’s no joy to be found in pretentiousness:  don’t read to prove yourself as an intellectual.  Read to enrich your soul, read what you legitimately enjoy, and read what inspires you.  

Which brings me to my next and final point…   

3.  Reading what inspires me.

This one might be true specifically for my fellow authors, but since I know a large portion of my followers are fellow authors, I think it’s applicable here.  

Ever since I was an infinitesimally small child, I’ve wanted to write stories.  When I was fourteen I wrote a hopelessly angsty YA novel about a half-dragon girl named Freedom and her misadventures with an ambiguously lesbian vampire and werewolf duo, a seductive and ambiguously bisexual elf (it was a time of self discovery for me), and a talking lion.  When I was eleven, I wrote a middle grade novel about a little boy who befriends a dragon.  When I was four, I wrote *ahem!* drew wordless stories about a winged wolf-creature named Starlight and his (in retrospect, overtly gory) battles with monsters.

It was bizarre, cringey, and I’m not gonna lie, pretty fucking awesome.  

Around the time I started college at around sixteen, I’d just decided I wanted to start writing again.  I had lots of ideas, and I remember in detail getting yelled at by my manager for scribbling in my notebook behind the counter instead of dutifully smiling at customers the way I was supposed to.  

But my writing was…well, to put it bluntly, it was really, really bad.  It only began to improve when I resolved to write every day.  It noticeably and drastically began to improve when I began to read works that I found creatively inspiring. 

While I was revising my manuscript, I read a lot of Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett, both masters of the kind of urban fantasy I was attempting to write,  and spent a lot of time figuring out what I loved most about their writing and how to best apply it.  This was also around the time I began reading Douglas Adams, which was, let me tell you, a magical experience.  It involved a lot of delighted gasping on my end and thinking you’re allowed to do that?

It really showed me what the barriers were for creative writing, or in this case, total lack thereof.

I think I owe these writers a lot for helping me to create several novel-length manuscripts I’m incredibly proud of, and one that I’m currently preparing to get published.


So in closing, for anyone suffering from reader’s block, feel free to try my approach:  read every day, read what you love and not to stoke your ego, and for my writer peeps, read what inspires you.

Either way, my books and I are enjoying a passionate long-term relationship, and every day I find myself loving them more.

is your best friend a reincarnated dragon? it’s more likely than you think!

since @honeybunchesofjokes​ decided call out posts were in again, here’s mine for her:

SHE’S A LITERAL FIVE HEADED DRAGON!

…..

okay, she’s not a literal five headed dragon, but she IS a dragon, likely one who’s sass pissed off a wizard, which is why she’s been cursed to into a tiny, frail mortal form

“but shana!” you’re saying, “that’s a serious accusation! you can’t accuse people of being dragons without any evidence! this is america! we’re human until proven a giant fire breathing lizard in a court of law!”

BITCH you think I don’t got EVIDENCE???

please consider:

runs hot. runs so hot. call the police and the fireman (make a draGON WANNA RETIRE MAN!!!!)

  • she’s so warm everyone in the friend group has used her as a space heater at various points
  • has put her hot hot hands on various people and there’s just this slow outrage of realization that small bunsen burners have been placed on them
  • she laid next to me in bed and was literally giving off such a large amount of heat from her tiny body that i had to TURN ON THE AIR CONDITIONING

she likes Things not in the way people like things, but in the ways of museum curators and DRAGONS have HOARDS of Things!

  • collects postcards, curates postcards and Small Art, and sometimes puts them up but most of the time they are just There and she Has Them because they are part of her Things
  • things that are blue are Good and things that are teal are Very Good!! she has so many things in teal!!! she hoards teal!! is a small art or postcard teal? EVEN BETTER!
  • ‘but shana’ you say ‘those aren’t very traditional dragon hoards. that just sounds like things she likes’
  • IF! THIS! BITCH! COULD! ROB! A! BANK! SHE WOULD!! AND SHE WOULD SLEEP ON A PILE OF SOLID GOLD BARS!! BUT SHE CAN’T BREATH FIRE ANYMORE SO SHE MUST MAKE DO WITH PRETTY ART AND TEAL COLORED THINGS!!!

she made herself a cave to live in

  • i’m not fucking joking she made a CAVE!!!
  • she bought a queen canopy bed and got some dark BLUE sheets and THREE (3!) BLUE blankets and dark BLUE curtains to surround herself in!! it’s all blue and dark!
  • bitch missed her native environment and just!! built a motherfucking cave!!

her fashion aesthetic is Adventurer and Hero

  • how is this relevant, you ask?
  • i can only assume she dresses like all the mortals who tried to slay her in her past life and FAILED

consumes things that are TOO HOT!!

  • normal people should not be consuming things that are that hot!
  • drinks soup and other liquids that are boiling!!! yells at ME for not drinking boiling liquids! ‘it’s too hot!’ i tell her, and she scoffs and says 'it’s lukewarm!’
  • you???? are consuming??? a boiling liquid???? YOU DON’T GET TO TELL ME ANYTHING ON TEMPERATURE
  • 'microwave this for me’ she says. i do it. 'this is cold!’ she complains. honey. honey bunch. honey bunches of oats. its FUCKING STEAMING.

grew up in the icy tundra of minnesota and hates the warm mild so cal!

  • it is because she runs so hot!
  • loves snow! loves cold! who loves being cold?? NO ONE LOVES BEING COLD
  • therefore she is Not As Cold as everyone else because she’s a MOTHERFUCKING DRAGON
  • NO WONDER she doesn’t like living in a desert! dragons don’t live in deserts! they live on the tops of icy snowy mountains!
  • 'it’s too hot’ she says, for once in her goddamn life. 'IT’S A PLEASANT FUCKING DAY’ i say. 'we should move. someplace north.’ she says, because she yearns to RETURN FROM WHENCE SHE CAME

every time she comes out of the shower she looks like she just got fucking murdered by gordon ramsay

  • let me explain
  • she scratches herself in the shower and BIG RED WELTS APPEAR.
  • 'oh,’ you say, 'she has sensitive skin!’
  • DOES SHE???? or are her NAILS much like her UNNATURAL BODY HEAT remnants of her former dragon body, and therefore so much stronger than a normal human’s??
  • I THINK WE ALL KNOW THE ANSWER HERE

she’s always ready to Fight

  • her new years resolution last year was to get in a bar fight. this year it was to be pettiest person she knows.
  • she is a FIRM believer that violence solves ALL YOUR PROBLEMS if you do it right
  • why is so much vigilante justice rage contained inside of her? why is she so Ready To Go, Mate?
  • what else do you expect!! when you curse a big fearsome dragon!! to reside in a mortal form!! this is what you get!!!

in conclusion:

My Roommate Is A Giant Fire-breathing Lizard

thank you and goodnight

This Is War [10]

Summary: After being rejected by your best friend Bucky, Sam sets you up with one of his friends, on the condition that if the date doesn’t go well, you have to sign up for a dating app. The date doesn’t go well. As you begin to look for love in other places, Bucky starts to feel something he never felt before. Jealous.

Bucky Barnes X Reader

Word Count: 1558

Warnings: It’s a little angsty.. And there is bad language!

A/N: Sorry this took so long, I’ve been very sick!! Thank you everybody who has been reading this!! The amount of feedback has been incredible and amazing and I’m so thankful!! xo

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The Maid

Characters: reader, Dean, Sam

Pairing: Dean x reader

Warnings: swearing, smut, Dom!dean, sub!reader, praise!kink, orgasm denial, oral (male and female receiving), unprotected sex

Word count: 3411

Summary: when you take up a new job as a maid at the bunker, you may have a slight crush on your boss; Dean.

A/N: happy Valentine’s Day, here some Dean smut for you beautiful people

You were running late to your job interview. It wasn’t like you weren’t prepared or didn’t leave on time, but this place was very hidden. You were in desperate need of money so you decided to go to an interview to become a maid at a bunker. You had seen the ad for the job, you didn’t have to book an interview you just had to show up between the time 3:00pm-5:30pm. It was 6:30pm and you had only just arrived outside of this bunker.

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