tuesday single

Twenty-five years ago Tuesday, a career-defining single was born — and with it, endless sitcom jokes and rap homages. It was referenced in Sing, the 2016 animated children’s movie, and in Shrek years before that. But when it debuted in 1992, there were those who took it to heart as an anthem of body positivity.

Baby Got Back” begins kind of a heartbreaking scene: a white woman talking to her friend Becky, straight up mocking a black woman. The man behind the song, Anthony Ray — better known as Sir Mix-a-Lot — says he didn’t make that up.

“It was like a blown-out, glorified version of what was actually being said at that time,” he says. “Basically, pop culture was waif-thin, heroin addict, big hair, fake boobs — you know, that was what they thought beautiful was. And because of the way it was discussed publicly, it made women who had naturally curvy bodies … run around with sweaters wrapped around their waist.”

“When I heard it, I just felt so — it was so affirming,” says Erin Aubry Kaplan. In the mid-‘90s, Kaplan was staff writer at LA Weekly. She and wrote a big feature article about the paradoxical way black women’s butts were seen — using “Baby Got Back” as an epigraph.

Sir Mix-a-Lot On 25 Years Of 'Baby Got Back’

Photo: Rick Kern/WireImage/Getty Images

Ravenclaw headcanons because there's not enough Ravenclaw on my dash

Padma sneaking Parvati into Ravenclaw Tower all the time and letting her stay in her dorm room because Parvati is allergic to Crookshanks.

Anthony and Terry arguing over which twin is who because they are known to switch ties all the time just to mess with everyone.

Cho organizing parties after every Quidditch match win or lose. Marietta taking care of food and drinks because she has “connections”.

“Connections” meaning she flirts with the Hufflepuffs because they have a secret easy access to the kitchens.

Luna’s things disappearing and then reappearing around the common room two months later. Her shoes tend to pop up elsewhere though.

Luna having thoughtful Saturday afternoon conversations with The Grey Lady about being dead.

Peeves bouncing around the common room for hours every single Tuesday night without fail and as a result the library stays open two hours longer than usual so the Ravenclaws can study.

Anthony spending more time doodling in his notebook than doing classwork and getting caught by McGonagall.

Su Li having an eagle owl that basically hates everyone and the entire Ravenclaw table knows to duck whenever they see it coming through the Great Hall because if you so much as look at it the wrong way it will go for your hair. Or your breakfast.

Terry never making it back to Ravenclaw Tower before curfew and getting into arguments with the Tower knocker because the questions become twice as difficult after curfew to discourage late night stragglers. Clearly it doesn’t work on him.

Every year after CoS, the Ravenclaws make bets on what sort of shit Harry Potter is going to get himself into. His fifth year Padma made a few Galleons off the fact that Loony Lovegood got mixed up in it.

Truthful Tuesday

I live in a small town in the middle of nowhere. When I leave my house, it’s rare that I run into anyone I don’t already know. In fact, the vast majority of people I pass on the street have known me since birth. This is both a blessing and a curse. I’m not an anonymous face here—I’m part of a “community"—which is kind of nice. The not so nice part is that the “community” I was born into has, historically, treated me like shit.

Remember the kid you always chose last to be on your team? Remember the kid who wore thick glasses at the age of six? Remember the kid who had cystic acne in high school? Remember the girl who went to prom alone? Remember—if you were a jerk—the kid you were kind to in private, but in the presence of others, you mocked or ignored? I was that kid.

A few weeks ago, I stumbled upon a song I hadn’t heard before on Apple Music. It was released in 1974, and it resonated with me more than any song I’ve ever heard before—At Seventeen, by Janis Ian.

Now, at 45, when I look at my former classmates, it’s evident that I’ve aged better than all them. Seriously, all of them! There are times when this fact makes me feel as if I’ve had the last laugh, but sadly, that feeling doesn’t last long. Regardless of what I look like now, I’m still single. I don’t anticipate that changing anytime soon. Would you believe that it’s been almost 8 years since I’ve last been kissed? It’s been 12 years since I’ve been kissed by someone who was able to make me weak in the knees.

Some of you share your stories about online dating here on Tumblr. Most of what is shared is horror stories, nevertheless, I’m envious of you. I envy you for not being afraid to put yourself out there. I envy you for not giving a shit about what people who know you will have to say about you putting yourself out there. But most of all, I envy you for still believing that someone out there will love you enough to choose you above all others, no matter what anyone else has to say about it. 

peace and love on planet earth 

it’s nice to see the sudden positivity in this fandom!!

halloweek; day four

It Felt Like You

Clarke pines for her best friend. Bellamy kisses a stranger at a party. The two things are not entirely unrelated.

based on prompt: ‘we’re in costume and i know exactly who you are but pretend i don’t so i have an excuse to make out with you just once.’ for anonymous

written by: Lexi / @goldenheadfreckledheart
edit by: M / @ahmren
word count: 4295

“Remind me why you’re not going, again?” Bellamy groans, head tipping back over the arm of Clarke’s sofa.

She walks past him on her way to the kitchen and flicks a finger softly against the crease above his brow. He scowls halfheartedly at her, but doesn’t move from his position on the couch.

She does not, notably, run a hand through his hair where it’s fallen back from his forehead. Doesn’t even want to. She definitely doesn’t have to deny that compulsion.

“I told you,” she says. “The hospital’s doing Halloween a day early this year so that on actual Halloween people with actual lives,” she gestures grandly to herself and Bellamy scoffs, earning himself another flick, “can hang out with their actual friends.”

He does perk up a little at that. “We’re still marathoning old scary movies, right?”

She grins. “Absolutely.” It’s their best tradition, as far as she’s concerned. Which is completely unrelated to the fact that it gives her an excuse to snuggle up next to him under the pretense of fear.

“It would be a lot easier to be upset with you if you didn’t have such a noble reason,” Bellamy concedes after a moment, looking up at her from the couch, his eyes rolled comically high toward his brow to look at her.

“It’s almost like I went into pediatrics just to spite you.”

“That’s what I’m saying, yeah.”

“Hey, you’re the one who agreed to Raven’s party, not me.”

“I figured you’d be going!” he says, finally sitting up to more properly pout at her. “I wouldn’t have agreed to go to a party alone.”

“Alone,” she deadpans. “At a party with all of our friends.”

“You know what I mean,” he says offhandedly. “You won’t be there.”

A reflexive twitch runs down her fingertips.

She does know what he means, and it makes her heart ache and soar simultaneously. They are, for lack of a better term, each other’s person. And though they do have the same group of friends, it’s also true that, when that group gets divided up, it’s rare that it’s not her and Bellamy wandering through museum alcoves, exploring the furthest shelves in the back of a dim bookstore far past the time they were supposed to rendezvous with the group. They’re inseparable. He’s her best friend.

She’s also in love with him, which is definitely only a perk in rom coms, as she’s come to realized over the last couple years. Because though the fluffy movies get the underlying feeling of bubbly warmth right, they don’t tend to cover the part where the best friend doesn’t feel the same way.

Which isn’t to say that she’s just hanging around Bellamy because she likes the pain of it. His friendship is her most valuable possession, and she knows he loves her, in some sense of the word.

She knows this because he’s Bellamy and everything he does for the people he cares about drips with affection. But she knows it more specifically because of one night in particular.

Keep reading

Bad for Me (Min Yoongi x Reader) Part Four

4] restless- infatuation 


A/N: You’ll understand this picture later on in the chapter. I thought you guys might want a visual of the description!

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You and Yoongi began to fall into a rhyme and rhythm.

It’d been about 6 weeks since he first start working at Youth & Impulse, and the two of you had a rather consistent routine that was followed every single Tuesday and Thursday at work. Yoongi would always arrive at 5:30, a half hour before he actually needed to be there. You would make him a latte as you’d been doing before, but you began trying out different designs on the top. He would rate your new designs from one to ten, and help you decide on which ones were good enough to sell to actual customers.

Then, Yoongi would play piano for the next 2 and half hours after that, and you would watch him from behind the counter. Stevens had gotten onto you several times for not paying enough of attention to the guests, but no matter how many warnings you got about it, you found it nearly impossible to keep your eyes off of Yoongi. His charm and classy look about him as he played the piano drew you in, and you literally never wanted to stop looking at him. Even as Stevens was snapping his fingers in front of your face, or as your eyes began burning and drooping from drowsiness, you didn’t want to pull your eyes away.

Your infatuation with him only grew every time you saw him and every time you learned something new about him. He could tell you something as trivial as how much he liked oatmeal raisin cookies and you would still be thinking about it hours later. This was the first time a single person had so much influence over your everyday thoughts.

After the shop closed, Yoongi would stick around to help you and Stevens clean up. Sometimes he would walk you to your dorm, other times the two of you would grab at a late dinner at the 7-Eleven down the street, and rarely, you two simply parted ways at the end of your shifts. You hated the nights where he just left. You didn’t like it when you didn’t get to spend the extra time with him, as that time after work was when he seemed the most real, and the closest to you. Those nights where you spent time alone with him, no matter how small the amount of time was, left you wanting more and more.

The uncomfortable and awkward tension that the two of you had previously experienced was no completely gone on both ends. You were learning to trust him and to believe him wholeheartedly, even though you knew it was a dangerous game to allow yourself to fall for someone that fast. You couldn’t find it within youreslf to be overly cautious; all you wanted was to be close to Yoongi.

All you wanted was him.

~YOONGI’S POV~

As he clutched the contest flyer in his hand, Yoongi realized that he was nervous to go into work. He had exciting news that he was desperate to share with You, but there was something that he had to come clean about first. What he needed to tell you wasn’t exactly a big deal, or a big secret, but it still was a rather large part about his pending music career. Truthfully, he felt guilty for not revealing this part of himself to you sooner.

He could tell how invested you were becoming in him, and that simple fact always managed to make his heart beat faster. He didn’t take your time or attention for granted as he could acknowledge that he’d never felt so close to someone in his life. For the first time in a very long time, Yoongi was truly beginning to feel…happy. And it was all because of you.

He took a deep breath as he turned the corner, approaching the front of the cafe at 5:30 as he usually did. He couldn’t help but smile as he watched you perk up from behind the counter when he walked in. After hanging up his coat, he went over to you. He still felt slightly nervous, but upon seeing your face, excitment began to drown out the other negative emotions and worries that he had.

“Yoongi! What’s up?” you exclaimed, and he grinned at your enthusiasm to see him. He nearly blurted out the words “You’re cute”, but bit his tongue, knowing that the comment would be a bit out of line.

“Y/N, I have good news,” He teased you, his excitement now blatant.

“And?” he watched your face spread into a smile, waiting not-so-patiently for an answer.

“I’ve been accepted into a music competition, and recruiters from small talent agencies will be there,” He grinned, cheeks turning red as you ran out from behind the counter. Out of nowhere, you were flinging your arms around him, exclaiming, “Yoongi, that’s so great! I told you you’d get your chance eventually!”

Yoongi stiffened under your arms, not because he didn’t like you being that close to him, but because he was surprised at how casually you embraced him. He felt guilty as you pulled away, seemingly taken notice of how he had practically just rejected your hug. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly as you mumbled out an apology.

“Oh no, no! You just caught me off guard,” Yoongi stammered, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. “Anyway, about the competition,” he changed the subject swiftly, desperately trying to recover from the uncomfortable moment, “There’s something about my music I haven’t exactly told you yet.”

You raised an eyebrow at him.

“I’m not just a pianist,” he began.

“Okay?”

“I’m a rapper,” he said slowly, watching you carefully to gauge your reaction.

“Oh, really?” You sounded surprised, but your tone was full of curiosity, not judgement. “You always look so gentle and calm while you’re playing music…I never would’ve pegged you as a rapper,” You chuckled, and Yoongi was relieved.

“That’s how I’ll be competing in the contest…I’ll be rapping, not playing the piano,” he explained.

“I’m so happy that you’re finally getting a real opportunity, Yoongi. You deserve it, honestly,” you said sincerely to him, his heart becoming elated.

“So, does that mean you’ll come then?” He asked hopefully, biting his lip. He wasn’t quite sure when it first started, but somewhere along the way in his relationship with you, he had suddenly begun to care a great deal about what you thought about him. He wanted you there, not just to support him, but also because he wanted to share that moment with you. He wanted you to see him doing what he was most passionate about; performing his music for others. He wanted you to be impressed with him, and to feel proud of him.

He cared what you thought.

“Come where? The competition?” You asked, seemingly excited by the idea.

“Yeah, if you can. I would like it if you came,” he replied shyly.

“Of course! I would love to come! When is it?”

“Tomorrow night. 9 o'clock.”

“I’ll be there for sure,” you nodded, and Yoongi really couldn’t control the huge smile that was on his face. He wanted to play it cool, but he just couldn’t.

“I’ll meet you here tomorrow night then? We can go together?” He offered.

“Sounds great.”

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~YOUR POV~

Yoongi showed up at Youth & Impulse at 8:30 the next night, right at the end of your shift so the two of you could walk to his competition together. Given that the cafe was right in the middle of the city, most other things were in near proximity, making walking more convinient and cheaper than taking a taxi.

Yoongi walked in the door, gaining eyes from customers as he swiftly walked up to the counter to meet you. He looked different tonight; his hair was messier than ever, but it looked like it had been styled that way on purpose. He was wearing a black and white striped cut off T-Shirt and a black hoodie. But, the hoodie was only covering one shoulder, and slipping off of the other one, exposing his pale yet obviously toned arms. It took an incredible amount of conscience effort for you to remind yourself that it would be innapropriate to continue staring at his arm muscles, no matter how bad you didn’t want to look away.

He was wearing hoop earrings, replacing the small black studs that he typically wore. He was wearing three different rings across his hands, with a chain bracelet and neclace to match. As he approached, you could tell he was even wearing makeup; it was faint, but black eyeliner allowed his eyes to pop. In that moment, Yoongi truly looked like a star. He looked like someone who was famous, someone who was rich, and someone who was important. Perhaps that’s why his entrance into the cafe caused so many heads to turn, so many eyes to stare, and so many people to whisper.

“Y/N! You ready?” He asked through a gummy smile, fidgeting out of apparent excitement and nervousness. You felt shy as so many people’s eyes were on you. You didn’t like copious amounts of attention; you found it invasive and uncomfortable.

“I am!” You replied with enthusiasm, despite the fact you were uncomfortable with all of the intruding eyes. You slipped your apron off over your clothes, simply wearing a black sweater and skinny jeans as Yoongi informed you that the dress would be very casual.

“Stevens, Yoongi and I are heading out, okay?” You called out to Stevens who was busy making a caramel macchiato.

“Yeah, yeah. Go have fun! Good luck, Yoongi,” Stevens said without even turning around, too busy drizzling caramel from a squeeze bottle onto the top of the drink.

“Thank you, Sir,” Yoongi replied earnestly as you made your way out from behind the counter. “Alright, let’s go then.”

The two of you walked through the cafe to the front door, looking like a million dollar pairing. You blushed as you noticed people’s heads continuing to turn to get a look at the two of you, while Yoongi seemed unphased by the attention, if he had even noticed it at all. You took note of fame would suit him well; you were happy he was the one that had the chance to become a star, and not you. You would never be able to handle all of the privacy intrusion, the demeaning eyes, the pressure. That kind of life wasn’t something you wanted. However, Yoongi seemed perfectly cut out for it.

He was walking a bit faster along the sidewalks that night. You pegged it to be his nervous yet excited energy, and all of that energy began to rub off on you. You hadn’t realized how excited you were to see Yoongi perform until the two were about a block way from the venue. There were cars parked bumper to bumper along the sides of the streets, making you realize how big of a deal this really was. Perhaps it appeared like some lame underground rap competition, but after seeing the amount of people that were going to be there, you began to think otherwise.

“You said that recruiters from talent agencies are going to be here tonight, right?” You spoke up, breaking the comfortable silence that you had been walking in.

“That’s right,” Yoongi breathed, his breath showing in the freezing cold air.

“So, this really is a huge opportunity isn’t it?” You asked, even though you already knew the answer.

“It really is,” he sighed, biting his lip as you looked over at him. He didn’t look so excited anymore; he looked more nervous, and you couldn’t blame him.

“Hey, listen. Try not to let the pressure get to you, okay? I’m sure you’ll do great. And even if you don’t, this won’t be your last shot,” you tried to reassure him, tried to bring him a bit of comfort even though you knew that no amount of words would remove the butterflies he was likely feeling in the pit of his stomach. You wanted to reach out and try to hold his hand, but after how weird he’d been about the hug yesterday, you decided against it.

“Thanks,” he offered you a small smile as the two of you found yourself standing in front of the competition venue; an old warehouse. Through the open front doors, you could see the neon lights and the crowds of people that were already there.

Yoongi was at a standstill, taking in the crowd and the energy silently.

“Ready to go inside?” You asked quietly, glancing over at him.

“Yes,” he said simply, catching your eye for a short moment, before moving forward, you right beside him.

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Yoongi was the 8th person to perform, so throughout the first performances, he stood out in the crowd with you. While the people performing were Yoongi’s competition, you could tell how much fun he was having while watching everyone rap. You spent a lot of time looking at him, how his facial expression was influenced by different lyrics and different emotions from the various rappers. You watched him have fun through the flashing of the neon lights and in the midst of several other sweaty bodies in the crowd. You were pressed against Yoongi’s side due to the mass amounts of people that were cramped into the small space, but you didn’t feel uncomfortable being beside him like that.

When his name was called out, he grabbed your hand quickly, meeting your eyes for a short second and offering one of those knee-weakening smiles, before leaving your side and running up to the stage.

The only way you could describe his performance was by using the word “flawless.” He didn’t skip a single beat, each word comfortably rolling off of his tongue with confidence. The emotion behind the lyrics made your heart ache for him, that he had felt that way. But that aching was distracted and disrupted by his incredible charisma while being up on that stage. You eyes were so stuck on him, you weren’t sure if you had even blinked once throughout his entire performance.

You saw a different side of Yoongi come out while he was on that stage; a darker and a wilder side. You could see how much he loved what he was doing, and how much heart and passion he truly put into it. You felt true awe while standing there amidst the flashing lights and the energy and the chaos. You watched the sweat roll down his forehead as he gripped the microphone tighter, his words flowing even faster.

You watched as he worked to make his dreams come true.

Coming down from off the stage, Yoongi was clearly ecstatic. For once, he seemed entirely confident about his performance, proud of himself for a job well done. You watched as he made his way to you, unable to even register what was happening as his arms were around you, pulling you into a hug. He was hot and sweaty and practically panting because he was so out of breath. But, instead of rushing for some cold water, he went straight to you.

The moment was so surreal as Yoongi tightened his arms around your waist, you almost wondered if maybe you were dreaming. But as he whispered in your ear, “Y/N, I think I might really make it,” you finally could acknowledge how real the entire situation really was. You hugged him, pressing your hands into his back to bring him closer even though his entire shirt was soaked through with sweat.

But for some reason, even though his sweat was getting all over you and several people were watching you and you were incredibly hot, you didn’t want him to pull away.

You would’ve stayed there, embracing Yoongi, tucked against his chest for hours if you could’ve.

You would’ve stayed there, heart beating out of your chest, cheeks flushed, Yoongi pressed against you for days if you could’ve.

You would’ve stayed like that forever, really.

But like all good things, the hug had to end. And when Yoongi pulled away, there was a smile brighter than the sun on his face. He was seemed so happy and so proud, you wished you could’ve frozen time and taken a snapshot of that exact moment.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said softly, before hugging you quickly one more time.