watch this will be the one that actually gets notes

the no bullshit guide to getting your shit together: for the lazy student

Let’s be honest: time management and organization? They’re really hard. Sure, at first you might feel like you’ve gotten the hang of them, that you’re in control of your life. But how often have you fallen off the wagon? Procrastinated on one thing and the next moment, you’re behind in all your classes? I know that sometimes laziness feels like a part of who you are, but honestly, fuck that. Do you really want to give up your success for the disinterest of a moment?

If your answer is no (it better be no, or you really need to get your priorities straight), let’s get to it. 

STEP ONE: BE HONEST WITH YOURSELF

“This class doesn’t even matter.” “I don’t care about my grades.” “I can finish this the day before.” Sound familiar? You might feel great now, but when you’re staring down at your report card later, it’ll feel like you just got punched. 

This is a cliche, but the greatest obstacle to your success is yourself - especially the lies you tell yourself! Sit yourself down and be honest about what you need to improve on. Be as blunt as you can, but for god’s sake, don’t throw yourself a pity party! There’s no use agonizing over what you can’t change. Instead, set realistic, achievable goals, and make a game plan. Struggling with math? Go to extra help. Behind in all your classes? Stay in for a couple nights and actually work. 

STEP TWO: STOP WITH THE FANCY SHIT

Now you know what your goals are, but maybe you want some inspiration, so you log on to tumblr and are instantly bombarded by all these beautiful, well lit shots of the most gorgeous bullet journals, planners, and notes. Impressive, right? Well, I’m gonna let you in on a little secret: they’re all useless! A simple phone planner works just as well, if not better, than a fancy agenda, because you’ll always have it on you, it’s not a hassle to carry around, and you don’t feel obligated to make it look pretty. 

Riddle me this, where are you going to find all this extra motivation to keep prettying up your bullet journal? To write all your notes in perfect, colour coded printing? There aren’t many times in life where taking the easy was out will actually benefit you, so take advantage! Stop wasting your time; get a phone planner and write your notes in your natural goddamn handwriting. 

STEP THREE: CLEAN YOUR ROOM

Yep, your entire room - not just your study space! This one can be put on the back burner for a bit if you’re on a really pressing deadline, but I wouldn’t recommend it. I’m notoriously messy, and if I don’t watch myself, I’d find myself in dirty-laundry-and-old-notes hell. A little bit of organized chaos is fine, I even encourage it! But try working when your desk is covered in mounds of paper and you have nowhere to put your laptop – it’s just not conducive to success. 

Keeping your entire room clean is a way to stave off stress, frustration, and even embarrassment, because nobody wants to show potential roommates how much of a mess they are. 

STEP FOUR: ACTUALLY WORK

Yeah, I know what you’re thinking: “actually work? Who does this girl think she is?” I’d probably think the same thing, except I’ve learned the valuable lesson of sucking it the hell up, and you will too. When you get home from work, grab a snack and work. When you have a free period, figure out what’s due and work. Stop reasoning yourself out of work: you’re not going to finish this later, and that will be on the test. There’s really not much to say about this one, because it’s the step that requires the most raw effort, and you’re really only going to find that within yourself. Tell yourself what’s at stake, and realize that, by setting the standard for your mediocrity now, you’re potentially trapping yourself in a cycle that will last for years. 

STEP FIVE: CUT YOURSELF SOME SLACK

Maybe you’ve been on top of your shit for a day, a week, or even a month, and that’s really great. But then… you fail. You miss a deadline or you bomb a test. So what do you do now? Do you allow yourself to fall back into your old habits? Fuck no! Everyone fails, even that studyblr with those perfect bullet journal photos and a perpetually clean study space. I’m going to tell you something that’ll sound really strange: you should value your failures, especially if you worked hard to avoid them. What?! Be HAPPY about failing when I actually TRIED? Yeah, you heard me right. If you don’t know how to handle failure, then when you inevitably experience it, your reaction will be much worse. 

Failing hurts, and boy, I know how embarrassing it can be. But learning how to deal with failure, and especially how to keep trying after it happens, is an invaluable lesson. 

STEP SIX: TREAT. YO. SELF.

Disclaimer: I’m not suggesting you treat yourself after the most basic of tasks, because please. Treat yourself when you know you goddamn well deserve it. Remember that “all work and no play makes jack a dull boy.” If all you do is study and do your homework, then, pardon my french, your life sucks. If you don’t have friends, play a video game! Eat an entire jumbo chocolate bar! Indulge in whatever the fuck you want, you deserve it. I’m someone that has trouble prioritizing future benefits over immediate gratification, so by allowing myself little pleasures, I save myself from crashing and burning. 

Hope these tips helped, but remember to take them with a grain of salt - you’re you and I’m me, and different things work for different people. Good luck!

my favorite part of Death Note is when Light was secretly watching the news on that minature TV hiddin in his chips so he wouldn’t be seen doing it by L, and afterwards Ryuk is like “dude! that was actually…….. a pretty smart plan! but one question: you had to throw it away with the chip bag right? wasn’t that thing expensive?? like, 40000¥?!” and Light was like “haha yep” and Ryuk was like “man how did you even get the funds for that??” and Light was like “haha yep” and then the episode just abruptly ended without any further explanation

Day Ninety-Four

-A child told me that he loved his lanky polar bear. He then asked for his leggy man boy to not be put in a bag. He gushed to his father about how excited he was for his limping pollo loco. I am grateful to have been the one to bestow upon him his Lego Batman toy.

-A man came through with a camouflage bandana, a long-sleeved camouflage shirt, camouflage shorts, and pasty white calves. He is guaranteed to go unnoticed as long as he stays in knee-high coverage.

-I began my shift not in the happiest of moods. This all changed when a two year-old looked me in the eye and told me, “Myungh.” Children always know just what to say.

-Two three year-old twins took turns tooting on a toy trumpet together, absolutely tickled by how perfectly they could produce their one note.

-I watched on in fascination as a man in his fifties knocked over a sign at Starbucks and spent ten minutes attempting to place it upright again. He soon found his efforts to be in vain and instead attoted to slink away in what was ultimately the most noninconspicuous manner possible.

-A woman left in the middle of paying for her purchase to wait through the line at Starbucks and get a drink. I am beginning to understand how some may doubt my stories. I, too, cannot find any way to believe that this actually happened.

-A child ran towards me, shouting, “Daddy Two!” My plan is working flawlessly and my infiltration of his family has begun.

-A triad of men came through my line, looking like a hipster version of the Three Stooges, and living up to the reputation.

-A line of intimidating frat boys spent the duration of their time in my lane debating the best brands of “choccy milk” and their go-to shaking strategies.

Headcanon that one day, after Christine has returned from Erik’s home and after she saw his face, Christine gets a small note from the opera ghost (who she now knows is actually plainly named Erik). It simply asks if she’ll visit with him that afternoon, and that they can go on a carriage ride or stay in and enjoy music together if she should like.

Of course she doesn’t exactly want to go, but when she spots a pair of sad eyes watching her above the stage she decides to accept his invitation.

And so Christine meets Erik that afternoon in her dressing room and he’s much more talkative and almost giddy acting. After 20 minutes in his home, with Erik talking a million miles per hour and switching between trying to entertain her and showing off different objects in his home, she finally asks him bluntly why he asked her to visit today.

And then Erik gets really quiet and shy, and he won’t look at her only at the ground. Christine is afraid she has somehow upset him with her question, but then she hears him mumble, “Today is my birthday.”

He just wanted to have someone to talk to on his birthday, and there’s no one else he would rather see than her.

Dreams of You // Seo Johnny

-

the prompt: hello :) can I request a fluffy NCT Johnny soulmate!au where when the person sleeps, they see through their soulmates eyes.

words: 1662

category: fluff + soulmate!au

author note: this is actually my favorite johnny one i’ve done so far so pls enjoy it!

- destinee

Originally posted by taesyong


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Tony Stark. On Double Standards and Choice

Since I largely wrote about IM1 yesterday - today, I’m hitting up IM 2. Now I think we can all agree that IM 2 was not a great movie - but what is usually less discussed is that in this movie, Tony is literally turned into a punching bag.

We all know the story. I won’t rehash it. But for today I wanted to bring up some issues that are really bugging me.

Did you know that the lithium dioxide Natasha shot Tony up with could have killed him? 

This is information provided in the comics (a comic tie-in with the movie). There was literally a chance (small, but there), that Tony would die the moment she gave him the injection.

It is NEVER addressed. I wouldn’t have even known if I didn’t do so much digging for writing fanfic. Puts the fact that it was Natasha who used the syringe into perspective, doesn’t it?

In other words, Natasha used an experimental treatment on Tony without even warning him of the risk. I have no doubt that Tony would have agreed to try anything at that point in the movie - but they didn’t even give him the choice. They went up to him and had an assassin stab him in the neck - with a potentially lethal substance.

The implications of this are incredibly disturbing.

Technically, hand-wavey medicine is nothing new to the MCU and the comicverse. Technically, what Abraham Erskine did to Steve wasn’t all that ethical either - I doubt Steve truly understood what he was getting himself into when he agreed to participate to that experiment. But… Steve had a choice. A poorly informed one, perhaps, but a choice. So why didn’t Tony get one?

Then, we have Nick Fury presenting Tony with Howard’s old notes and instructing him to look for the answers there. And then leaving aside the dubiousness of him waiting until such a late time to provide the files, and withholding Tony’s property (arguably, the files belonged to Tony to begin with, but we don’t actually know if Howard left them in Fury’s care or not), we have fan favorite Phil Coulson threatening Tony to behave under the threat of being tazed into drooling into the carpet while Coulson watches Supernanny. For obvious reasons, I find this incredibly distasteful. Tony’s medical state at this stage in the movie is unclear, but chances are that kind of hit might have killed him.

So… Tony is under house arrest. You know who else received house arrest in the MCU? Wanda Maximoff. I have read a million posts about Tony “imprisoning” Wanda and “taking away her agency” in CW. And this was at a time when Wanda KILLED people. She wasn’t even an American citizen. We don’t have much data on public outrage on Lagos, but chances are that reaction to her presence wouldn’t have been great. But Tony is taking away her choice.

Where is the outrage when it was Tony’s agency that was tread upon?

And of course, to add insult to injury, Tony is the one whose personality profile doesn’t fit the Avengers. Leaving aside the fact that this assessment was done when he was DYING, how exactly does that work? Let’s make a list here of the great and awesome people the Avengers team is made out of:

- Natasha Romanoff: double-crossing assassin, former Russian spy. Just… Nuff said. I want someone to do a psychological profile on her. I’m too biased to do it.

- Hawkeye: assassin with a history of disobeying orders (did not kill Natasha when ordered to). Nothing really of significance at the time of IM 2. 

- Steve Rogers: where do I even begin? Honestly, leaving aside the fact that he’s Captain America, Steve does not have a good history with obeying authority. From falsifying his enlistment forms to Azzano, he pretty much did whatever the hell he wanted. Then, he started leading guerilla ops in the war - where following orders wasn’t really an issue. Abraham Erskine said - not a good soldier, but a good man. Accurate.

In fact, in some ways, Steve and Tony are very much alike. Is that why Tony was set up to fail? Because… Captain America?

- the Hulk: perhaps not originally considered? Either way, it’s clearly not his personality that is the issue, given that they had a great big tank in the Hellicarrier to place him. I suppose I can agree with that, since Bruce has a fairly… submissive personality outside Hulky times.

So what makes Tony stand out? His “textbook narcissism”?

Turn your eyes upon Thor, please. The crown prince of Asgard - the guy who murders God only knows how many aliens because of a perceived personal slight. Did he evolve from there? We’d say yes - if he hadn’t used lethal force to attack two Avengers upon meeting them. 

His ego? Considering that the team contains Captain America, a guy who seems to believes he’s entitled to be the moral authority over all - I’d say Tony is the least of their problems. 

Does Tony have personality flaws? Of course he does. He has a prickly personality and hides behind his “genius billionaire playboy philanthropist” mask, because of his countless other issues. But he is not afraid to say “I made a mistake”. Did he blurt out “I am Iron Man” largely because he needed validation that he was doing the right thing? Maybe. But he also stopped building weapons because he acknowledged he was doing the WRONG thing. Is he disrespectful toward authority? I suppose. But given that authority repeatedly screwed him over, I’d say he’s entitled to. That is far more than other characters in the MCU display.

We’re not perfect. Nobody is. So why is he the only guy (or almost the only guy) constantly getting his flaws shoved in his face? Why is his choice repeatedly disregarded and nobody blinks an eye?

Why is he always the only one being called a killer when the whole team has blood of their hands?

Experimentation: An Excerpt

Just to show you guys I am actually still writing this….


She doesn’t want to think about being jealous, or toners, or how her stomach ties itself into notes whenever Chloe gets too close. How her father thought they were dating or what it all means.


She just wants to make it through the night with minimal stress and embarrassment. That’s it. Can’t she have that?


It’s not until she’s back downstairs waiting and then watching as Chloe descends the staircase like some newly-beautiful teenager from one of Jesse’s treasured teen romance flicks that she realises she’s definitely out of luck.


Because the first thing her brain tells her after conjuring that analogy is that it doesn’t work; Chloe’s always been beautiful.

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For your freaking information, there’s 101 boys on one show. You finding all these scandals don’t surprise me. They’re boys, all immature. I’m not surprised someone bullied someone in elementary, [not defending ya nasty pervs but…] or that one touched his dates thigh during a movie. TBH I’m not surprised at all. They’re immature brats, does that mean I’m going to stop watching the show because 4-6 out of 101 are gross. No? Wtf that’s stupid.

And stop calling them a flop because I.O.I was successful. These trainees at dying to debut, some are from other groups (Nu'est, Hotshot, JJCC, TOPPDOGG, etc) are trying to get their name/group out there. So please stop wasting your time and let some of us actually enjoy it without you trying to ruin a show and these boys’ careers.

Side note; I’m not defending these boys for their wrong doing, nor the boys in boys24 that have been caught in scandals. I’m only stating that you’re only wasting your time.

Side note 2; Stan Jang Moon Bok, Justin, Ren, Samuel, Park Ji Hoon, Kang Daniel and Lee Dae Hwi ☺️💖

NDRV3 Transcripts: Ouma’s Prison Mode Ending

So, many people have asked me about Ouma’s prison mode lately–the ending in particular! I’d like to get around to actually translating all his prison mode events if possible at some point, but for now @shinjiroaragaki and I are bringing you all the ending!

They provided me the transcript and I’ve translated the full thing to English. Since it’s a relatively short event, I’ve included icons for all the sprites in the formatting. There’s a Google doc version as well, although this time around it’s pretty much the same as this post, just minus the Japanese text.

Google doc link!

More translated transcripts.

Since we both worked hard on this translation, it’d be great if people could spread it around and reblog it if possible!

Although it’s bonus mode content, this ending is highly insightful to understanding Ouma’s character. It provides glimpses as to how Ouma behaves in a scenario where no murders occur, what Saihara thinks of him when he’s not putting on such an antagonistic act, and how even Ouma doesn’t really fully understand himself all the time.

I hope you all enjoy! Here’s Ouma’s prison mode ending, alternatively titled “Saihara decides to hold Ouma’s hand until he stops being such a bratty liar.”

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You paint?

A/N: Hi! This is my first imagine. It’s a Danisnotonfire imagine where the reader is actually really good at painting and neither Dan or Phil knew, till one day Dan finds you painting and thinks it’s amazing. It’s really long I’m sorry!

Pairing- Dan and reader

Female pronouns

Warnings- None (well, I suck at proofreading :))

Enjoy…

The boys had known you about as long as they knew eachother, and you were a good balance to their spontaneous-ness. So when Dan and Phil move to London they take you with them without hesitation. You were long use to Dan yelling in triumph when he beats Phil at Mario Cart or whatever new video game. And you’d learned to buy extra cereal to hide in your room for when Phil is on the prowl. You were comfortable with their antics and appreciated the talents that contributed to the atmosphere in your life. 

Dan’s talent being piano playing with the melodies drifting throughout the entire house, and Phil sometimes singing at the top of his lungs in the shower. You had been gifted with your own abilities as well, but your favorite was painting. The way the paint brushed the canvases, the way various colors blended together so vibrantly and how anything could come from nothing were lessons that got you through important moments in your life and taught you anything was possible.

Sadly, as you finished college with the major your parents told you you would be the best off with and got your steady job, your passion for painting faded like an old work. You still did art, but it was drawing and sketches on printer paper and nothing like the wonders you could create with a brush and some paint. You badly missed painting but your supplies were somewhere in your parents houses, and it was such a long drive for something that may have been thrown away years ago.

It was thanks to your mother you were reunited with your precious talent. She’d come across your painting set up from high school and decided to send you a little care package of your table easel, oil paints, your best brushes and everything you would need to kick start the inspiration again. Painting was your true passion, and she knew nothing made you happier.

The package came while Dan and Phil were at a Youtube convention. So they weren’t there to hear your squeals of excitement that rang through the apartment when you were reunited with your supplies. You threw on you old white button up shirt and pulled on your paint splattered blue jeans that were both in the bottom of your dresser and painted up three painting before the day was over. It felt so good to have the brush back in your hands.

Dan’s PoV

(Y/N) had been in a permanent state of euphoria ever since Phil and I had gotten back from the convention. There was an extra bounce in her step and she would always smile at random times. She seemed the same other than that, except for the occasional moment when she comes to breakfast in the morning looking sleepy because she apparently couldn’t sleep. I occasionally indulged myself in trying to figure out what made her so happy. But no matter how often I caught her with a sudden smile at something in her head or found myself staring at a point in the distance for so long Phil or (Y/N) thought I was having an existential crisis, I couldn’t figure out the extra look of excitement she got in her eyes when something of beauty crossed her eyes. Or why she would sometimes stay in her rooms for hours at a time in silence. As always, (Y/N) was the enigma that made life interesting.

The first big clue must’ve come a year before we’d even moved into the London apartment, when the three of us had volunteered for a park beautification project. (Y/N)’s eyes had lit up when she’d gotten the email that she’d been asked to help paint the new mural that the city was putting on the cinder block tunnel at the edge of the park. I thought it was just because she’d gotten out of redoing the flower garden unlike Phil and I. And I’d shrugged it off when she had shown up in a paint splattered white button shirt and blue jeans of matching style, I guess I figured she’d painted a house or something before. And I was so flustered when at lunch her supervisor came up to me at the barbeque and told me: “Your girlfriend was such a help with the mural, she’s very talented.” I was too busy trying to quickly explain she wasn’t my girlfriend to comprehend the part of her being more than good at smearing paint on stone and having a real gift at bringing out potential in more than just people.

The second one came a week after the convention, when (Y/N) had been 20 minutes late to grab a slice of her favorite pizza and when she finally came out, her hands were far from the normal (Y/S) color. They were instead splattered with various colors of the rainbow. “Oh my god, (Y/N)! What did you do to your hands?” Phil asked.

“Huh?” She asked confused. She looked down at her hands and her cheeks turn a rosy color. “Oh shoot!” She quickly rush to the kitchen to scrub her hands, coming back five minutes later with a red glow on her face that somehow made her look even more pretty than ever. Phil and I look at each other but don’t say anything. I continue eating my pizza and study the blue streak in (Y/N)’s (y/h/c) hair, not connecting the dots until another week later.

Your POV

You ran out of canvases yesterday when you finished your latest peice. It was a painting of the sunset over the mountains, one of your favorites so far. You’d been painting up a storm whenever you had free time or couldn’t sleep, and as a result your room was filled with various masterpieces ranging from the night sky to the galaxy. What on earth am I going to do with all of these? You think pulling on a raincoat to brace London’s glaring rain. Normally you could just hang them on your wall, but the space was already occupied by various posters and photos. I could give them to relatives, but I don’t think I have enough family members in my entire family tree. You chuckle and quickly run a brush through your hair as you continue to get ready. When you were ready you walked out of your room and straight into Dan. “Woah,” Dan exclaimed as you two collided. The camcorder tumbled out of his hand and you quickly caught it.

“Centuries old. Don’t want to break that,” You hand the camera back to him while quoting the Sherlock episode the three of you watched last night. Dan smiles in relief of his camera being saved and you take in the chocolate brown of his eyes. How lucky you were to see the most beautiful wonder of the world everyday. To be surrounded by masterpieces and have the privilege to make one smile each day.

“Thanks, (Y/N). Phil would kick my butt if I broke another camera,” Dan joked. 

“No problem,” you reply. “You recording a video today?”

He shrugs. “Just finished actually,” he shifts the camera to his other hand and notes you rain coat and his eyes widen slightly. “You’re going out? It’s like, storming outside.”

“I need to get some things,” You reply vaguely. “I’ll be alright.”

Dan didn’t seem reassured, “do you want me to go with you?”

You smile at his concern, “I’m a big girl Dan. You’re welcome to come if you’d like though.” 

Before Dan can reply though, Phil’s voice rings through the apartment, “Daaaaannnnnnnn.”

Dan rolls his eyes and yells over his shoulder, “what Phil.”

“We need to record an episode of the Sims.” Dan looks back at me and I laugh. 

“Go record. I’ll be fine, Dan, I’ll pick up a pizza for dinner.”

“Get sausage!” Phil shouts excitedly, from the other side of the apartment.

“Phil I can hear you just fine there’s no need to yell!” You yell back with a giggle.

Dan smiles and shakes his head. “Okay, okay. Just be careful alright?”

“You mean more careful than you are with your video equipment?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.

Dan laughs, and his smile makes me melt. “Alrighty then. See you later.” He hesitates for a second, but then shakes his head and walks down the hall to record.

(Time skip brought to my by waffles and my lazy A ;D)

I unlock the apartment door and start bringing everything in. Three bags of groceries, three five packs of canvases, and another bag of brushes from the art store. Needless to say, after buying both groceries and paint supplies, it didn’t seem smart to try and bring a pizza on the underground. So instead you just ordered one for delivery and hoped the boys saved you a slice. 

“(Y/N)? You home?” You hear Dan yell from upstairs. 

“Yeah!” You shout and lock the door behind you. Seconds later Dan clomps down the stairs and sees you soaking wet with shopping bags surrounding you.

“Jeez (Y/N), did you walk through a tornado?” Dan asks in regard to your disheveled hair. 

“Haha,” you say sarcastically, wringing out your hair. “Help me with the groceries, Howell.” You pick up your canvases and a grocery bag. Dan gets the other three bags.

“Was the weather bad?” Dan asks as you walk up the stairs behind him.

“No, Dan it was sunny and rainbows filled the sky,” you reply with all the sarcasm you could muster.

“Ugh sound horrible,” Dan retorts.

“So how was recording? Did Dil set anything on fire?”

Dan laughs, “yeah actually. And it was all Phil’s fault.” He finishes with a yell.

“No it wasn’t!” Phil calls back, his voice squeaking. Dan and I laugh.

“Lemme throw my bag and stuff in my room real fast.” You say reaching the hall. “And you better have saved me some pizza Phil.” You yell towards the living room.

“Dan, help,” Phil stage whispers. “We only saved her one slice.” 

“Oh that better be a lie,” You say with a giggle and set your things on your bed. You quickly place the canvases you bought against your wardrobe, next to some of your finished paintings, then go to join the boys in putting groceries away. 

“Okay we saved you two slices, but we’ll watch whatever movie you want,” Dan compromised, handing you the box of cereal to put in the cupboard. 

“It’s cool. You guys up for (Favorite Movie)?” You grab the next item and place it in the fridge. The boys agree.

“I’ll see if it’s on netflix,” Phil says, relishing the excuse to get out of putting away groceries. On the way out, He gives Dan a look like do something you fool. To which Dan rolls his eyes. You and Dan continue to finish putting the shopping away when he comes across your paint bushes.

“Where do these go?” He asked, studying them. 

“Oh I got those, here.” You took the paint brushes from him and placed them on top of your desk. Your eyes catch a particular painting you were quite proud of. A quiet nighttime lake with pond lilies surrounded by a lust green forest with fireflies lighting up the water and sky. You could almost hear the crickets and frogs croaking.

“Woah.” You turn and see Dan standing in the door. His mouth agape and his chocolate eyes darting to your different artworks. He sees you looking  and rubs his neck. “I- Sorry, the door was open and I- Phil got the movie set up and-” His eyes catch the painting you were just admiring. “Did you do these?” He asks, referring to the paintings around him.

“Yeah,” You say sheepishly. You didn’t know why you were so shy about this. Plenty of people had seen your work and said you were good, but Dan seeing them somehow felt, different. You’d never actively asked for someone’s opinions on your work, but you wanted Dan’s approval, you wanted him to think they were good. It embarrassed you a little thinking about it.

“These are- (Y/N) these are incredible,” Dan says. His eyes are trained on your face and you feel a burst of pride. “You should sell some of these.”

You smile and tuck a peice of hair behind your ear, “thanks.” You and Dan stand there for a second, his eyes catching yours and then both of you quickly looking away. “Should we go watch the movie?”

“Yeah. Sorry, it’s just,” he hesitates, his eyes going from your features to the paintings again, then continues, “those are amazing.” You beam at him once more, then follow him into the living room. Inside your chest your heart felt warm with a sense of achievement and comfort. If the world turned on its head tomorrow and everyone said that your painting were horrid, Dan Howell said your paintings were amazing.

And somehow that felt like the highest praise in the world.

Hi! Thanks for reading.

Get Out review:

So I just saw Jordan Peele’s breakout film (as a writer), Get Out. It was actually my second attempt to see it. I tried to go last night and it was sold out. Even today in the middle of a Sunday afternoon the theater was packed. And it’s been in theaters for a week so the fact that it’s still packing theaters says something. Anyway, I really loved it. I tried my best to avoid spoilers because I heard it was quite a thriller and I didn’t want to hear any extra information. I knew the basics of the plot line and I knew there were some concerns about whether it was going to be some racially tense film. I was prepared for that, but I was determined not to let The Discourse® ruin it for me if it truly was a worthwhile film.

Anyway I’m not going to spoil it too much for those who still want to see it, because I really recommend that you see it for yourself. Suffice it to say it is a very good thriller that keeps you guessing what’s going on. There are several interesting twists. I do understand what people are saying with the concern that it’s pushing a “white people are all evil” narrative, but I thought in the context of the film it wasn’t really that bad. It’s pretty absurdest and you really get the feeling that what’s going on is fairly isolated to this family and their friends rather than it being a picture of every white person. I think if you can remove yourself from that mentality you will enjoy the film a lot. It was exceptionally well shot and directed. Very nice to look at and visually exciting. The acting was about what you would expect for a horror film. Not fantastic but it fit with the atmosphere.

My main concern for movies that they tell a story. If this had been set up as a way to preach to white people about how racist they are (I’m looking at you “Dear White People”), it would have been a mess in my mind. It’s the same reason I don’t like a lot of “Christian Movies®” because they tend to be message driven rather than story driven. They start out telling you what you’re supposed to think and then everything that happens in the movie is just there to reinforce it. But Get Out really does have a compelling story and interesting characters. And its commentary on racial issues is pretty thought-provoking. There’s one scene the involves a bit of an… examination reminiscent of how slaves would be examined on the trading block. That’s all I’m going to say because again, it’s one of those subtle things that is better when you watch it. It’s also really worth noting that the prominent white people in the film are liberal and at least by appearances try very hard *not* to be racist, so it isn’t some big bashing of white southern conservatives. It actually points more of a finger at the liberal elite for using minorities rather than caring about them.

All in all I highly recommend it. I’ve seen some really annoying Discourse® on Tumblr of course, but try not to let that reflect on your enjoyment of the story. This movie doesn’t get any quality passes from me for being a story with racial implications. It still needs to be a good horror/suspense film, and I think it does it’s job.

A Bit Shy (part 1)

//Part 2//

Author’s note: This story freaking wrote itself, man. 

Songs: I actually listen to piano covers of kpop songs for this story. Go check out Smyang piano on youtube!

Pairing: Reader x Jungkook(BTS)

Word Count: 1036

Genre: Fluff and Humor?( Well the word vajayjay was used so that a sign this is not that serious of a story)

Originally posted by officialwookkibby


How does one get someone who is afraid of girls to notice them? I tap my spoon on the edge of my bowl watching Jungkook eating his lunch with Jimin. They were laughing and throwing bits of food at each other. Ok “afraid of girls” was a strong phrase. My mind wanders back to the first time we met as I watch the two boys acting like idiots. Just thinking about it makes me want to dunk my head into my burning hot soup.

    It was only my first day here. I found myself down a hallway that I wasn’t probably allowed down. This is what I get for not asking my boss where the bathroom was. But I am an independent girl who needs no man to her where the bathroom was. I turn myself confidently down yet another corridor with the same gray walls, somehow everything looks big surprise, the same. I sigh out in defeat as I lean against the wall. Ok, maybe I do need someone to tell me where the bathroom was located. I close my eyes and wish I was back at my desk with a computer that won’t even turn on. At least I had no control over that issue. I’m lost because of my own stupid pride. If it was only my bladder, I would have held my pee in for the rest of the day at my desk but mother nature has other plans for me. My desperation to find a bathroom became more apparent by the cramps and uncomfortable moistness of my womanhood. If I didn’t find a bathroom soon, I know I will have a nice red stain on the back of my white skirt. Nice way for people to remember me by, right? I run my fingers through my hair trying to clear my head.

    “Excuse me, are you lost?” there was a sudden intrusion to my train of thought. I open my eyes slowly, trying to rack my brain on what excuse I should use on why I was most certainly was not lost. But with my luck, this person was probably a higher up or my boss.

    “No, I…” I stopped mid-sentence, once I took a good look at who was the owner of the voice. No, it wasn’t a higher up. No, it wasn’t my boss. No, it was Jeon Jungkook of BTS staring at me with a weird expression on his face. Out of all of the employees of this company, the one I run into is my first bias of BTS. Truth be told, I knew I was going to meet him eventually because we both now work at Bighit. But I never knew I going to meet him with blood coming out of my vajayjay and a desperation to find a freaking bathroom so I could just put a goddamn tampon in.

“Well um..uh…yeah I am-m…wher-re is the umm..bathroom.” I sputter the sentence out. I push myself off the wall and look down at my flats, suddenly interested in the floral pattern etched across them.

“Oh it just around the corner, you won’t miss it.”

“Thank-ks.” I walk past him with my eyes still on the ground.

“wait…uh …miss.” I turn around and look jungkook in the eye. His face was a flush red and he holding a long sleeve flannel shirt that he was wearing moments ago.

“Uh take this you have uh something on um the back of your skirt.” He looked down at the floor and held out the shirt a bit farther to me. Oh, God. I whip head around and lo and behold there was a bright red stain forming on my butt for the whole world to see. Oh God. Embarrassment boiled in the pit of my stomach and need to throw up became the first thought in my mind. All I wanted was the floor to give out from beneath me.

“Thank-ks.” I took the shirt and bowed to him. Oh, God. I shot down the hallway and turned the corner, sprinting the last steps to the bathroom. I pry the door open and run straight into the first open stall I see. I leaned against the door of the stall and took deep breaths. I looked down at the shirt in my hands and rubbed the material in between my fingertips. At least he was nice enough to give me his shirt.  I took one last deep breath and started to fix my issue down under.

The rest of the day went smoothly without any more little surprises from mother nature or hot male idols. But still to this day, over a month later, embarrassment still surges through me just thinking about it.

Today was the first time I saw him since our little run in. I watch him from the other side of the small cafeteria. Seokjin had joined the two boys and was now scolding them, probably about throwing food. I laughed into my now cold soup. I stirred my spoon around chunks of meat, not feeling a bit hungry. I wanted to give him back his flannel but I had no clue where I could find jungkook. But even if I did know where to find him, I would have been too embarrassed to even give him it back. For now, the shirt’s home was at my apartment laying on the back of my desk chair, mocking me.

I finally take a small sip of my soup, scrunching my face up at the taste. I drop the spoon back into the bowl and pushed it away. I look back up from my soup and got this sinking suspicion someone was watching me. I scanned the small cafeteria and found a pair of dark eyes watching me. They belong not to jungkook but to the smaller boy sitting next to him. He had a smirk on his face and never broke eye contact with me. I was bewildered to why Park Jimin was staring at me. He leaned over to jungkook and whispered something into his ear. He then pushed back his chair back and stood up. He started walking not to exit but straight to my table.  


More to come.(sorry not sorry) As always I hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as I loved writing it!!<3

Imagine...

Transfer student AU where you’re from an english speaking country and do a foreign exchange student program in South Korea for a year. Your best friends consist of:

Taehyung

Originally posted by zooniors

The first person who actually talked to you. As soon as you walked into English class on the first day, he moved his things so that you can sit next to him and watch him make fun of the teacher when he turns around (he was always the class clown getting himself into trouble for blowing spitballs at other students and passing notes to you when he was sitting right next to you.) And he’s mostly known to ask you for the homework because he doesn’t understand English. Tae was the one who introduced you to the rest of the boys and added you to their friend group. 

Jin

Originally posted by kpoop

The sugar, spice, and everything nice home economics teacher. You were pretty bad at cooking and needed a lot of assistance when it came to baking (you weren’t as bad as your seat partner though, Jungkook.) He was always really nice and smiley, and you couldn’t help but blush when he would accidentally touch your hand when taking a wisk from you. You loved being in his class and seeing his smile each day. Mr. Kim was definitely easy on the eyes and from the first day you saw him you sprouted a crush.

Namjoon

Originally posted by wonhoforjackson

The English teacher. You have him for your English class and you’re one of his favorite students because you can have a fluent conversation with him in English, and he can understand when you call Tae names in english or give him bogus answers to the homework to mess with him. You usually see Mr. Kim in the library, when you have your study hall, reading a book or something. He may be a clumsy teacher, but you could tell he was the smartest and he actually cared about trying to teach the students. He and Jin were inseparable, so often the students and staff would refer to them as Kim squared. You couldn’t help but have a slight crush on him. I mean, who wouldn’t? He was one of the cutest teachers there. 

Hoseok

Originally posted by wydkook

The happy history teacher. History wasn’t the most interesting subject and you really couldn’t care less about Christopher Columbus but seeing Hoseok every day made you happy and excited to go to his class. Every morning he would great each student individually. “Good morning, ms. (Y/N). How are you?” He would ask you every day with his bright smile. He always kept plants on the windowsills and usually kept his windows open to let the breeze in. During the summer and spring months  the class would go outside a lot too, he thought that it really helped students learn. But in reality, you were only doing perfect in the class because you didn’t want to let Mr. Jung down. Along with Kim squared, he was definitely among the cutest teachers. 

Jungkook

Originally posted by hey-seoul-sistah

The shy but funny kid. Your home economics seat partner was Jeon Jungkook, who was known for being very popular among the girls so you were surprised that he was so sweet and nice to you. He was a little shy at first but eventually he got more comfortable with you and began to show his silliness. He was always cracking jokes and burning your home economics projects.

Yoongi

Originally posted by myjaebutt

The really quiet artistic kid in your art class. He would always listen to music during class and get in trouble with the teacher for not listening, but he claimed that it helped his artistic flow. In the end, your teacher gave up on trying to get him to pay attention. Everyone knew he was the most talented in the class. You became friends one day when he was admiring a piece of artwork you had done and wanted to compliment you for it. Eventually you found out that he was a rapper who’s just starting out when he invited you to come see him live at some bar.

Jimin

Originally posted by jeonbase

The sweet popular football player. Jimin did generally well in school for two reasons, he needed good grades to stay on the football team and he’s sort of a math genius. You sat next to him in math class and to your surprise, he knew what he was talking about and he’s actually not a meat head. Jimin was always really sweet to you can would help you with your math work. You could definitely tell he had a crush on you because he asked you to wear his jersey to the homecoming game like the rest of the cheerleaders did for the football players. 


Originally posted by wherethecontrailsgo

And your usual hang out spot was the coffee shop down the street where Jungkook worked. You, Jimin, Yoongi, and Tae would go see Jungkook during his shift and talk for hours. But there were times that you’d be there alone and you’d run into one of the teachers. Namjoon would be reading or doing work sometime after school while drinking tea, and sometimes Jin would accompany him with a cappuccino. Usually when the both of them were there they wouldn’t get much done and just spend hours talking and laughing. But when Hoseok was there he sat alone in his usual window seat doing work or just writing. Some days when you were alone, he would ask you to join him for a little bit and he would ask you about how your life was going and how school was. 

You loved going to school in Korea, your friends and teachers had become your new life. But that made leaving it at the end of the year was even harder…


ANOTHER ONE THAT SOMEONE SHOULD MAKE A SERIES OF OMFG

(Shadows crook their fingers out to her, and she dances on the edge of existence.)


“They’re back again,” Reggie said, arms crossed over his chest as he stared out the window.

Concetta made a strangled noise of exasperation, stomping over to stand beside him. She put her hands on her hips, scowling fiercely. “Really? Don’t they have better things to be doing?”

“Guess not,” Reggie said with a bored voice, his expression blank in a way that she recognized from the ease of long practice— he had already lost interest. Reggie turned away and let the curtains fall back into place, dismissing the mob milling about outside. They had bright torches held in work-calloused hands, and they were using the light to peer through the clearing.

She imagined that they were staring right at her, and shivered. Concetta wished that she could have the same indifferent attitude as her housemate, but even now she could feel the fear creeping up on her.

Once, Jasmin had jokingly said that a person never forgot their first witch hunt. She didn’t know just how right she was. Or maybe she did. Jasmin was different, even among the settlers here.

Reggie’s hand settled lightly on her head, ruffling the short haircut. “Don’t worry. This isn’t the first time, and it won’t be the last.”

She stared up at him, expression deadpan. “That’s… actually not helpful. That’s almost the exact opposite of what I wanted to hear, congratulations.”

Reggie shrugged, unbothered by the criticism. “What does it even matter? Even if they do manage to get in here, nothing they do will stick. Jasmin made sure of that.”

“I know,” Concetta said, and her mind was flooded with images of flames licking her skirts and shadows peeling themselves off the ground. “But that doesn’t mean it won’t hurt.”


(Death is an old family friend, and she laughs when they come for her. Death laughs too, and takes her hand when she offers it. It hurts.)


“I wonder if they really even know,” Concetta said one day, eyeing the angry villagers that had once again begun to circle the mansion. “Are they aware of what this place really is?

“As aware as a bunch of half-blind mortals could be,” Jasmin answered, a bit distractedly. She was concentrating on the bright fabric in her hands, carefully cutting off each of the glittery buttons. “They know that there’s something here, something that raises goosebumps on their arms and blurs at the edge of their vision. But they can’t really see it. They’re only human, after all.”

Jasmin didn’t mean it maliciously, but when she said human like that, so full of pity and careless arrogance, Concetta couldn’t help but shy away.

Concetta wasn’t human, true, but she hadn’t known that for a long time. And though she may have hated many humans, she did not hate humanity. It was hard for many of her companions to say the same. She didn’t blame them, not really. Concetta knew just how hard it was to separate the vicious few from the indifferent majority.

Even she had difficulty with it, sometimes.


(Come to us, they whisper. Come to us, and never be lonely again.)


The morning was crisp and cool. Reggie had gone to bed a little under an hour ago, the door to his basement room shut tight in order to prevent any light from leaking in.

Concetta had no idea where Jasmin was. The older woman had likely wandered off into the forest somewhere. She might not return for several more hours— or weeks, depending on how long her good mood lasted.

Concetta was used to the silence, the distinct absence of any other living beings. Jasmin and Reggie were the only other permanent residents besides her, and they were both drifters, content to follow the wind and listen to the stories it had to give them.

She couldn’t speak with the wind. She had tried, once, but gave up almost immediately when the only answer she was given was the furious roaring of a hurricane in her ears.

Concetta wasn’t meant to speak with the wind. She wasn’t whimsical and blunt like Jasmine, or relentless and steady like Reggie. While the two of them weren’t exactly soft people, they carried a gentleness in their souls and hearts that broke themselves over and over again simply so that someone else could have a piece of it.

A witch-child is not soft or gentle; they are harsh and unforgiving and dance with fire nipping at their heels.

“I, uh, heard this place was safe,” the man said, an almost sheepish expression on his face. He avoided looking her in the eye, keeping his gaze fixed on somewhere over her right shoulder instead. “My name is William. Is it okay if I, uh, stay here?”

Concetta could do nothing but nod in agreement, pulling the door open fully to allow him inside. Just as Jasmin had done for her, that rainy night so many years ago.


(The shadows dance, they rip and chew up the earth with their long claws, and she is running running running—)


“And here is your room,” Concetta gestured towards one of the empty guest rooms, hoping that the Dryad who had stayed in there last had remembered to clear away any plant growth before she left.

“Uh, thanks,” William said, still looking slightly to the right of where she was actually standing. “Is there anything I should know about this place before I get settled in?”

Concetta thought for a moment, and then shook her head. “Nothing that I can teach you.”

“U-uh, wait…” William stammered, clearly even more nervous than before. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what I said,” Concetta blinked, a bit unsure of what all the fuss was about. “There are a great many things in this place that even I cannot explain. It would be best for you to discover them yourself. That is why you’re here, right? Though I have to say, I’m a bit impressed. I’ve never seen a human manage to get this far before.”

“Oh, thank you—” William began, face flushing pleasantly at the praise, before he dramatically paled. “Wait, you know—”

“I know lots of things,” Concetta said amusedly, already turning to walk away. “Perhaps, at the end of this little venture, you will too. Have a wonderful stay, Mr. William.”

Behind her, she could hear him gulp. She felt a little bad for tormenting him, but not enough to actually stop. After all, she recognized this man.

The vicious few and the indifferent majority.

Weren’t both of them at fault, in the end?


(“Help me!” she cries, not to the shadows but to the people, the people who watch her with wide, pitying eyes. “Help me!

The people don’t answer, but the shadows do.)


—notes: 

Second one of the night, woohoo! I’m so tired, what the hell. Anyways, this is a fun one too! I definitely enjoyed writing it, so I’m satisfied! Another Caffeine Challenge, and they seem to get better every time. Cheers!!

All the small things happening when dating Credence Barebone! ❥

touchy:

·butterfly kisses:
credence is very sensible to touch and gets overwhelmed so easily, so butterfly kisses are the best way to go. he loves it when you give him cute, little pecks on his forehead, cheeks and literally everywhere on his body.

·playing with your hands:
credence is so fascinated by your hands, probably because he doesn’t like his own because they bring back bad memories. he is always fiddling with your fingers and presses your fingertips to his lips whenever he can.

·cold lips:
credence is always cold and so are his lips but you love the cool, tingling sensation you get when kissing him. equally, he loves feeling the radiation from your warm lips.

·scars:
credence has a lot of scars, his mother didn’t spare his back either. he is very unconfident because of them and you don’t let any chance fly by to straddle the ‘on the stomach-sleeper’ credence and caressing all of the scars on his back.


moments n feelings:

·with credence there is no evening or morning, there’s just floating through time with him. there isn’t a favourite daytime or getting excited for bedtime. there’s just being calm and happy all the time. even when he has panic attacks or nightmares and you have to stay awake the whole night calming him down, you wouldn’t want to change a thing.

·credence is OBVIOUSLY an introvert, so he loves doing ‘introvert-thingies’ like reading and drawing. credence loves it when you read for him but when you get too tired, you change parts and he will read for you!! credence isn’t too fond of words so it’s always a special moment when he reads page after page for you.

·when credence smiles he tends to look down or hide it. you can’t stand that, so you always grab his face and force him to look at you when he is smiling and that makes his grin only wider.

·bubble baths! credence and you love spending time in the tub together! of course things tend to heathen up often but there are equally as many times where you would just look at each other, nap or have foam fights. bonus: credence is addicted to bath bombs and he is the bath bomb commander because you don’t put them in the water carefully enough. he always explains to you, if you do it careless it dissolves way to fast and he loves to watch it melt.
bonus-bonus: your favourite bath bombs are the ones with glitter in them because when credence gets out of the tub he looks like an actual angel that just came from heaven through your bathroom window, with all the glitter on his bare body.

·you two spend hours drawing together. even though, you are kind of jealous because he is way better at it. well, at least his handwriting is horrible. you also use his horrendous handwriting as an excuse to getting all the love notes he writes for you, read to you.

·when you are cleaning, you love to dance to some jazz music and credence always secretly watches you through the door gap. but most of the time you catch him and it pretty much always ends in a private lap dance for the boy.

·you rarely go out in public, you prefer taking walks in forests etc., but when you do nobody would ever be able to guess what you two (especially credence) have gone through, since you two become the giggliest people and do things like starting to slow dance in the line waiting for your movie tickets.

  • My dad, looking for a family movie we can watch: Fantastic Beasts! Your favorite!
  • Me: That’s not my favorite. I like every Star Wars movie more than Fantastic Beasts
  • Dad: Your 8th favorite
  • Brother: You're forgetting Rogue One
  • Dad: 9th favorite
  • Me: And the animated Clone Wars movie
  • Dad: 10th