what was up with that first segment though

ironic dyslexia

pairing: lin x reader (go figure)

prompt: dyslexic author writes a book that lin loves and he meets her and invites her to see hamilton

warnings: hastag makeout and swearing

word count: 3,069

a/n: happy to write some more for you all. this is one of my favorites. kind of pointless, very sweet. i love lin, but what’s new honestly (ps mY SISTER GOT ENGAGED AND IM SO HAPPY)

Masterlist / Prompt List

Today was hard. You could usually manage, but there was something about today that just made writing so fucking hard. God, you couldn’t even get through a paragraph without the little red line haunting every mistake you made while typing. You had an interview today with a publishing company - what if they asked you to read a chapter from your book? The job would be gone the first time you messed up your w’s and m’s. You groaned, pushing your computer away from you seat at the diner.

It was strange. You would go to type a ‘g’ and think, “g is the lowercase version of G,” and “G looks like a 6,” so you would type a 6. It took much longer for you to get your thoughts out, and you often had to stop and think about what you were writing. God, you hoped they wouldn’t give you a typing test. Do they even still do those?

The waiter brought over a plate of hash browns and your cup of coffee. You ate silently, hoping that maybe the food and caffeine would lift your moral. Dyslexia was hard enough, but being an author made it ten times worse.

Your mom laughed - actually laughed out loud - when you told her that you were writing your first book. She thought you had been completely joking. You pushed it though, not only proving her wrong, but more importantly proving to yourself that a disability wasn’t your definition.

And you did. Your first book was off the charts, every day gaining more attention and praise. You even did a segment on The Ellen Show; that’s what happens when you work your ass off.

You had just started packing up your laptop when a voice startled you.

“Excuse me?”

Your head turned quickly as you jumped back slightly. You settled when you realized it was just a young girl. She was kicking the ground, embarrassed. You laughed lightly, “Yes?”

She looked back up to you - she couldn’t be older than ten. “Are you Y/N?”

You nodded, “What can I do for you, love?”

Her smile grew. She pushed a piece of hair from eyes behind her ear, “My mom read me your book and it’s my favorite.”

Taking in a breath, you grinned. This was a whole new community of people that you hadn’t expected to reach, “Thank you so much, that means the world to me.”

She smiled a little bigger, “I have dyslexia too,” she said. Then, instantly embarrassed, she looked back down.

Your heart swelled; you were rarely confronted about your reading disability. Still, rather than being sheepish over the comment, you felt empowered - inspired even.

You leaned in a little closer, touching her shoulder. “Don’t ever let it stop you from doing what you love, okay?”

She looked back up, then nodding a little, she gave you a hug before running back to the table where her dad sat. He gave you a nod of gratitude before looking back to his daughter.

Honest to God, this had never happened to you before. Sure, you had met a few teens who had read your book, but never anyone younger. Even then, never someone who had felt empowered by reading your story. It was a story about a beach house for God’s sake. And they probably had no idea how many times you spelt ‘beach’ 'baech.’ Still, your heart smiled at the gesture. Maybe today wouldn’t be so hard after all.

Pulling your bag over your shoulder, you headed towards the door before you were stopped once again.

“Wait!” Someone called from behind you, your foot halfway out the door. You were rarely noticed in public - and especially not twice in one morning.

It was a man with a shoulder length hair, the top pulled back from his face. He had a book in his hand. It wasn’t until he was right in front of you that you recognized the cover; it was your book. You let a small smile escape, a blush flooding your cheeks. He was handsome.

He let out half a grin, “Y/N?” You nodded, cueing him to continue. “I’m a huge fan - I’m actually kind of awestruck right now and I’m rambling because you’re very pretty and very talented and -”

You laughed, interrupting him, “Thank you.”

He took in a sharp breath, shoving an outstretched hand towards you, “I’m Lin.”

You shook his hand, thinking about how Lin shouldn’t be too difficult to remember. “Y/N,” you greeted, hoping your hands weren’t too clammy.

After a moment of holding your hand too long, he quickly pulled back, scratching the back of his neck.

“What can I do for you?” You asked softly, bringing his eyes back to yours.

“Oh!” He laughed, extending the book towards you, “I was wondering if you could sign my book for me.”

You fished around your bag for a pen for a moment before realizing that he had a sharpie in his hand. You giggled before started writing in his book.

Lin -
     Thank you so much for reading my book. And don’t worry - your nervous ramble was adorable.

Rereading your note to make sure you hadn’t mixed any letters up, you debated on adding your phone number, but you figured that was much riskier than you felt like being.

He gratefully took the book back, shutting it before even reading it. Shaking his head slightly, he smiled, “My cast is going to flip.”

“Cast?” You questioned, suddenly confused.

“Uh, yeah - I’m in this musical about Alexander Hamilton.” He said sheepishly.

Your eyes went wide, “The one here?”

He nodded, “Why? Is there more than one?” He threw you a wink, making your heart skip despite your eye roll.

Still, you giggled before shaking your head, “I don’t think so. My sister just saw it a few weeks ago.”

He smiled with his entire face, “Really? What’d she think of it?”

“She said it was incredible.”

Lin laughed before doing a little dance, “I can try and score you some tickets - the cast would love to meet you. We’ve all read your book.”

You snatched his copy from his, causing his brows to furrow. Quickly, under your name you scribbled out your number. He smirked at the addition, accepting the book once more.

“Call me?” You asked, using your back to push the door open.

“Definitely,” he said, waving slightly as you walked off. Once you had turned around completely, he gave himself a power fist. “Go Lin,” he smirked.

And call he did. Ten minutes after you left the shop, actually.

“I wanted to make sure it wasn’t a fake number,” he defended.

Feeling flirty, you teased back, “Why would I give a cute guy a fake number?”

“Because you’re way out of his league?” He curbed, making your face flush red.

“Tease,” you mumbled under your breath.

He called that night too: “I wanted to double check it wasn’t a fake number.”

“Lin, you already called me. You know it’s real.”

“Okay, maybe I just wanted to talk to you some more.”

And again in the morning, you hadn’t even gotten out of bed.

“Good morning!” He chirped, eliciting a groan out of you as you quickly turned down the volume on your phone.

“Too early,” you mumbled.

“Noted,” he said before continuing. “I got you a ticket for Friday night.”

This seemed to wake you up, “Really?”

He nodded before realizing you couldn’t see him, “Does that work?”

“Yeah,” you said, sitting up and smoothing back your hair. “What do I wear?” You thought aloud.

He laughed, “A dress. But comfortable. It’s a long show.”

“Okay,” you grinned, “Thank you so much.”

“Of course,” he answered quickly. “But you have to promise to meet the cast afterwards - they’ll be pissed if they know they didn’t get to meet you.”

“Absolutely. I’ll be the starstruck one.”

“Doubtful,” he said. You could practically hear his smirk through the phone.

You were writing again the next day. Your mind was elsewhere, thinking about Lin and what dress to wear and Friday. Still, when you went back to correct your mistakes, your writing had a different tone to it; much lighter and more fluid.

Friday came soon enough and you were a wreck. You had called your sister and explained what happened. She instantly gushed about how attractive Lin was - and how talented he was. You called him after, frustrated that he hadn’t told you he was the star of the show.

“You’re telling me that my writing is good, but you’re an Emmy winner for your musicals! I feel like you gassed me up.” You heard him laugh through the phone, making you frown. “Lin,” you whined.

“Okay, okay!” He giggled, “I play Alexander Hamilton in Hamilton, but I didn’t gas you up. I’m actually obsessed with your book.”

“Shut up,” you grumbled. He only laughed again.

“You’re adorable,” he settled on, making you blush. “But seriously, Jasmine - you’ll meet her, she is so talented - was the first to read it, right? She gave it to Pippa - you’ll meet her too - and then Diggs -“

“His name is Diggs?”

“Daveed Diggs, he’s ridiculous. He’s a rapper.”


“And then they gave it to me because they wouldn’t shut up about the book, and they were annoyed that I couldn’t talk about it with them.”

You were smiling by now, listening smoothly, “So you’ve got a book club,” you teased.

He threw his head back, “I suppose you could call it that.”

The two of you talked for the rest of the night, by the time it was midnight, he suggested that you just come over.

“Lin, it’s the middle of the night.”

“Well, it depends how you look at it, in some parts of the world -“

“Lin,” you laughed. “For someone who has a never ending supply of energy, how is it that you don’t need sleep? It’s so ironic.”

He smiled into the phone, “Says the dyslexic author.”

You let out a hard laugh. It was new to laugh so freely about something that had limited you for so long. He wasn’t using it against you, simply acknowledging it.

“Too far?” He asked, suddenly nervous.

“Absolutely not. It feels good to laugh about it. To recognize it.”

Lin smiled, “I’ll see you tomorrow at the show?”

“In a dress,” you returned.

“Goodnight,” he said, lingering.

“Goodnight, Lin,” you said. You waited a moment before handing up the phone. You fell asleep smiling that night.

You spent an hour picking out a dress. An hour. Even then, you settled on a simple low cut red dress - it wasn’t even that excessive! Still, you curled your hair and did your makeup, giving yourself ample time to get to the theater.

The show started at seven and you arrived around 6:30. A few people noticed who you were, a pair of teenage girls even asked if you were planning on writing more.

“I’m working on something right now, actually,” you smiled, playing the tease you knew you were.

Their eyes lit up as they begged for details. You laughed as you shook your head, “Sorry! You’ll just have to wait.”

After snapping a photo with them, you found your seat, still clutching your playbill. You flipped through the book, a paper falling out with the cast list on it. The cast changed frequently, so they used scrap paper instead of printing the bios and photos of the new actors. Your heart leapt when you saw Lin’s name across the dotted line of Alexander Hamilton.

The lights dimmed and the show began, the beat instantly pulling you in. You had no idea what you were in for, but boy, did you love it.

You weren’t sure what to do at the end of the show to be completely honest. After the final bow, you were overwhelmed to say the least. Sure, you had written a book. But that? Hamilton? They just made magic onstage.

You waited a few minutes before deciding to text him. What was he thinking? What were you thinking? You had absolutely no idea where to go or who to talk to. Before you could get your phone out of your bag, however, an usher had placed a hand on your arm.

“Miss L/N?” He smiled. When you nodded, he continued, “Mr. Miranda asked that I invite you backstage.”

A smile rushed your face as you followed him towards a back door, still gripping your playbill as if your life depended on it.

The guy who had played Hercules Mulligan was waiting for you behind the door. Thanking the usher, he pulled you back into the dark hallways with a grin so big it filled his face. He hugged you, making you jump for a moment before accepting the gesture and returning it quickly.

“I’m Oak, I love your book.” He said as he pulled away.

“I loved your performance,” you smiled, feeling awestruck.

He laughed but was abruptly shoved away, “Oh my gosh,” the girl behind him said.

“Jas, this is Y/N,” Oak introduced.

A curly head bobbed over, instantly hugging you, “You are one of my biggest inspirations.”

You took in a breath, softly thanking her before hugging her back. When you pulled away, you squinted before asking, “You’re Jasmine, right?”

She nodded quickly, slightly slapping Oak on the chest before turning and whispering, “She knows who I am.” Suddenly, Jasmine was pulled away from you to reveal a dressed down Lin. He had on some sweats and a black Hamilton tee. The sight of him made your heart skip. Who the hell looked that good in sweats? He was unreal.

He puffed up his cheeks before slowly breathing out.

“Hi,” you said.

Lin shook his head slightly before offering a hand and leading you away. Gratefully, you accepted. His hand left yours, resting on the small of your back, flooding your body with fire; making you burn.

His lips trailed to your ear, slowly breathing out, “You look incredible.” Electricity traveled down your spine as his words hit you.

You tried to push your smile down, but his hand fit perfectly and his hair was messy but he was so damn hot and you couldn’t help it.

“Only one person to dress for,” you quipped, moving a little closer to him, as if there was any room between you. He let out a soft groan, moving you more curtly to his dressing room.

He took a deep breath when he got into the room, as if to calm himself down. Lin pulled you to the couch, sitting much closer than two friends would.

“So what did you think?” He asked, nudging your shoulder, “Was your sister right?”

You let out a laugh before you nodded, “For the first time in her life.” You turned to face him. His grin made it’s way to his eyes, “You are ridiculously talented,” you said, still starstruck.

“Then I won’t let you see Javi play Hamilton. You might like him more than me,” he laughed. His laugh was breezy, like the conversation wasn’t filled with heat.

“Who says I like you?” You said, your brows furrowed, a teasing tone making its way off your lips.

“That dress,” he said quickly, easily. You let out small gasp, rarely allowing yourself to flirt so liberally. Speechless, you shook your head with a smile on your lips. He played off of this, taking your hand in his. “But seriously, you liked it?” He asked, turning the subject.

You nodded instantly, “It… was the best thing I’ve ever seen.”

He rolled his eyes, “That’s exaggerating.”

“Maybe, but it was still amazing.” You shrugged.

He was closer than he was before. When did he get so close?

“You’re amazing,” he tried.

You crinkled your nose, “Cheesy.”

He giggled, placing his other hand on your cheek before touching his lips to yours. Melting immediately, your hands found his neck and you pulled him closer. His hands dropped back to your hips as his lips molded yours. Your lips parted as his kisses got longer, hotter. You sighed into him, tugging his hair lightly when he nipped your bottom lip. The fire in your chest had traveled to every part of your body and you had never felt so good.

“Dude! Why didn’t you tell me Y/N was here - oh shit!” Someone yelled, barging into the dressing room and causing you two to pull apart. Accidentally, you smacked Lin in the face as you jumped back to the end of the couch.

“Shit,” you both groaned, you in embarrassment, him in pain. Reaching towards him, your placed your hand back to his jaw where it had previously been in much different context.

He laughed lightly, “I’m okay,” he assured you. Your eyes were still worried so he leaned forward and pecked your lips once more, making you smile.

A curly haired boy walked in sheepishly alongside Jasmine. Lin laughed, flopping back on the couch. “Go figure.” He laughed.

The boy furrowed his brows, letting out a slight huff.

Throwing a hand up, he introduced you, “Anthony, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Anthony.”

You offered a small wave, your blush undeniable. Quickly, Jasmine broke the tension with a laugh, “You couldn’t even lock the door, Lin?”

Lin face palmed, slapping a hand over his eyes. You looked down, trying not to giggle (and failing). Maybe it was the way Jasmine leaned so easily against the counter, like this was something enjoyable for her to see, or maybe the way Lin had kept one hand around your waist during the entire affair, but you weren’t nearly as embarrassed as you should be.

“We’re going to get some pizza if you want to come,” Anthony said, scratching the back of his neck.

Jasmine was quick to kid, just like Lin, “Unless you guys are preoccupied.”

Lin groaned, standing up and ushering out the door, mumbling something in Spanish before turning back to you, “I am so sorry.”

You shook your head, “Don’t worry about it. I love your cast.”

He was back to the couch, sitting just as close as he had before. “Oh yeah?” He grinned, giving you no time to respond before his lips were back on yours.

I must confess to you all that this entire part of the game absolutely terrified me. I was quaking in the boots that I wasn’t wearing. It’s like FF7 went from being an RPG to a survival horror game for a bit there, and they pulled it off so effectively that I was shaken for a while after this during my previous playthrough.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hi Sam! This is a random one, but ages ago you (or possibly not you and I am misremembering, if so please disregard) mentioned "Invitation to the Game" by Monica Hughes. This is fascinating to me because Monica Hughes was a huge deal to my grade 5 self but I mostly stumbled across her by accident since she was from my city and did local bookshop events, etc. It's totally wild to me that a writer I respect so much (you) is familiar with Canadian YA sci-fi author from the late 80s.

Aw, thank you! That book had a huge impact on me as well – it was one of the first times I ever read a YA novel that had an adult-book style “twist” and also one of the only ones I’ve ever read where I didn’t see the twist coming. 

I would venture that a huge segment of the US population around my age may have heard of her, though I couldn’t be sure – there used to be a program (might still be for all I know) where Scholastic publishing company would bring pop up bookstores to schools. You’d get a flyer ahead of time, mark what you wanted and bring in the flyer and payment, and a few weeks later there’d be a pop-up shop. You got the books you asked for in a little bundle, but there would also be extras if you wanted to shop around and buy something on the day of. It was nationwide, and I think the books were probably marketed nationwide. 

Invitation To The Game was definitely a pop-up shop book that I bought because I liked the look of the cover, but just the fact that it was in the Scholastic distribution means it probably got pretty wide press in the US. Deservedly too, it was a fantastic book. I highly recommend it for adults as well as YA readers, it’s a ripping good near-future scifi novel. 

Following FinnRose—A Not-at-All Brief (And Obvious) Reaffirmation of What we Already Know

As many of you know, Star Wars characters Finn and Rose Tico will be sharing an interesting relationship—a mission (of romance)—throughout the majority of Episode VIII. Given our provision of spoilers from the recent Behind the Scenes release, as well as a few from long ago, I believe we can decode some of the perilous twists and turns that they will be taking throughout the film. So, without further ado, let’s piece this puzzle together (at least, a little bit…).

WARNING: There may be potential spoilers, but I can guarantee you there will be shameless FinnRose shipping. Also, though it is tempting to branch off, I will attempt to stay true to these characters and their mission/ dynamic, as we have already been shown in the trailers. Like any and all theories, it could be wrong, so take it with a grain of salt or the gravity of Saturn.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

(previous anon) I know absolutely nothing about homestuck and I don't think any of my friends do either xD

ooo.. well its just a webcomic that is even longer than war and peace satirizing stereotypes of online trolls and peoples behaviors that turned into a plot based on a game of survival and lots of conflicting and interchanging time lines and stuff. Its full of ridiculousness.

 Its separated into acts and the first one was written by the author on a forum asking people what the person should do next. Then when it gained traction he took it and ran with it spectacularly. This means though that many find the first act hard to get through.

The entire thing is made up of comic, videos, video game segments, snapchats, like basically everything that could possibly be used as a medium to represent it, it did. The fandom died down because there were big gaps in updates after it was consistently updating for years. Finally its at its at its end.. sorta.

The fandom was so big and people didn’t understand how to seal their body paint that it caused a lot of issues, as well as mimicking things from the comic that shouldn’t have been, and harassing artists because they didn’t like the ships they were drawing. What fandom unfortunately doesn’t have that artist problem though?

Everyone was quick to make cosplays of things in a few hours after each update. It brought out the creativity in everyone. It was so versatile that everyone that opened their mind to it could relate to it and which is why it was and is such a valuable thing to many.

 Not only that but its canon that each character was basically up to interpretation as to how you wanted them to look. They were drawn so plainly for you to self insert or run wild with it.

It was so easy to make friends, everyone was so open. It was like a giant club that accepted anyone really. There were promstucks every saturdays at cons and massive photoshoots so you could always find someone to relate to. 

I miss it so much. It was when I was happy and life felt easy because you always had someone there and there were so many someones! Full of openness and fun. Sure not everyone experienced it this way because of bad eggs, but I stayed away from bad eggs. 

The comic itself though helped me through a lot and I felt for the characters so hard. Theres not one character I didn’t like because I saw the value in all of them, having human flaws, being a villain because thats how you make stories interesting, by having conflicts! It’s insane, but its an amazing hell of a ride and I recommend it to everyone. 

Weekly Idol ( Jimin )

REQUEST — Jimin oneshot when you’re in a girl group, and Weekly Idol invited your group and BTS. Everyone tease Jimin and you because Jimin said you were his ideal type and you mentionned that you liked Jimin’s laugh. Wow I’m sorry it’s so confusing ! Thank u!

( random girl group — Y/G/N )

A/N — I googled random Korean names but you can just pretend it’s other names when you read it. I made Y/G/N a 4 member group so I don’t have to look for so many Korean names hehe.


“Welcome to Weekly Idol! Today we have (Y/G/N) who recently made a comeback! Let’s welcome them in!” Hyung Don and Defconn clapped as your recent comeback song played. All of you stood in one line and faced the camera. Your group’s leader, Sun Mi, started the greeting. “1,2,3. Hello, we’re (Y/G/N)!”

Hyung Don faced your group, “How’s it like with your new comeback? Are you girls the top dog now? All the boys fainting from seeing you?”

The four of you laughed while shaking your heads. “(Y/N), I’ve heard that you’ve been catching quite some attention from some male idols?”

Your eyes widened as you looked at the two MCs. “Really? I’ve never heard that.”

Defconn nodded his head and clapped his hands together. “Do you know Bangtan Sonyeondan?” Your whole group nodded your head in response. “Jimin from BTS actually said that you were his ideal type.” Hyung Don continued.

Your members squealed teasingly as they smacked you in the back. Feeling embarrassed, you covered your cheeks while looking at the 2 MCs in disbelief. “Are you sure?” You questioned them and they nodded their head.

“Yes! They said it the last time they came on Weekly Idol.” Defconn confirmed. Hyung Don smiles cheekily, “Well now that you know you’re his ideal type, name one thing you like about Jimin! Go!”

You thought as quickly as you can, your brain scanning through the performances you’ve seen and backstage interviews. “I like Jimin’s laugh.” You answered. Your leader teasingly hugged you, “Our (y/n) is growing up now.”

“You’ll thank us later for that.” Defconn spoke and you looked at him in confusion. Hyung Don and Defconn looked at the cameras and announced something that none of you were expecting. “Now on this weekly idol, we have another guest who made their comeback recently as well! Bangtan Sonyeondan!”

All of you clapped as you watched them enter the scene and you bowed at each other in respect. Your mind was in a mess but you were trying not to show it. First they tell you you’re his ideal type? Then ask you what you like about him on television? And now they’re right in front of you!

After they made their introduction, the 2 MCs spoke. “Jimin why are you at that end? Come stand beside Hyung.” Defconn gestured the male to stand beside him and he listened obediently. “(Y/n), come stand beside me as well!” Hyung Don called you. Shyly, you swapped placed with Soon Bok and stood beside the MC.

“Defconn, as MCs we should stand in front right?” Hyung Don faced his partner who nodded his head in agreement. “You’re right. Come on let’s stand in front.” They two walked up, leaving an empty space between you and Jimin. You were feeling very nervous and attacked, you avoided making eye contact at all cost.

The two turned around to face both groups, “Ah the empty space is so awkward. Can you guys close it up?” They teased; everyone was laughing loudly except for the two of you. “Jimin-ah! Move in!”

“Yea (y/n), close up the gap!” Your members teased you openly. You were mentally killing them already, to you, they were already dead.

“So Jimin what’s it like standing next to your ideal type?” Jimin just gave a shy smile while opening his mouth but no words came out. Jimin was nervous but mostly embarrassed from what happened. He was frozen when they told you that you were his ideal type. Jimin felt unusually very happy when you said you liked his laugh.

Not knowing what to say, he let out an awkward laugh. Hyung Don gasped and looked at you, “(y/n)! (Y/n)! Jimin laughed! Was it nice?”

You laughed aloud in embarrassment, stepping back from the group. “Ah it’s so fun to tease Hyung.” Jungkook clapped. “Jeon Jungkook!” Jimin glared at the group’s maknae.

The MCs moved on to the different sections, both groups successfully passed Random Play Dance. You felt nervous the entire time, you could feel that he was looking at you. You didn’t say it to anyone but Jimin was your favourite from BTS. You liked his personality, his laugh, his appearance. Maybe he was also your ideal type? But you obviously couldn’t say that.

The food arrived and you were all about to eat when Hyung Don spoke. “Should Jimin feed (y/n)?” You froze after what he had said. You knew from the very moment when BTS walked in, they were going to tease the two of you—a lot. You mentally prepared yourself for it but you felt so shy with him there.

You looked up and made eye contact with Jimjn who gave you a small shy smile which you returned. “Aw look they made their first couple contact!” Hyung Don gushed and everyone followed. You turned to look at your leader who seemed to be enjoying it a lot. You playfully glared at her who just returned an innocent look at you.

Luckily, they didn’t push Jimin to feed you, if not you would have died from embarrassment already. Defconn took the infamous lie detector, you saw how it worked. You figured as long as you stay calm it’ll be accurate.

“V why don’t you go first.” He passed it to V. “Do you think Jimin and (y/n) will make a cute couple?” V smiled cheekily and looked at Jimin who was giving a subtle glare at his friend.

“Yes!” He answered cheerfully. You all waited for a brief moment before there was a ‘sing’ sound. “He isn’t lying! They’ll make a cute couple!” The two MCs announced loudly and almost everyone was cheering and clapping. The lie detector was handed to Jimin and he was talking V about the lie detector. “Just stay calm!” V told him.

“Do you think (y/n) is the prettiest here right now?”

Jimin laughed shyly and glanced at you to see you looking directly at him. “Y-Yes,” he answered quietly but loud enough for everyone to hear. Jimin was telling himself to stay calm while he waited. On the other hand, your heart was beating very fast. You wished you could’ve met Jimin under different circumstances so that you two could be friends normally. However, you figured that now it was going to be more awkward whenever you two meet.


“IT’S TRUE!” Hyung Don exclaimed. Your group members laughed while nudging you playfully. “Woah! Woah!” J-Hope was gasping while looking at Jimin playfully.

The lie detector was handed over to you. “Do you think Jimin is boyfriend material to you?” Defconn asked and your eyes almost popped out from its sockets. Jimin was looking at you with a small smile on his face and he looked so handsome just sitting there you could’ve died.

“Say no! Say no!” Your leader whisper-yelled.

You turned to hear and replied, “Say no?”

“Just say it!” Soon Bok nudged you and you immediately said no, facing the MCs. Jimin felt a bit hurt when you said no although he knew you were being forced to by your group members.

Suddenly, you screamed and immediately jumped up from your seat. “It’s a lie!!! Jimin is boyfriend material!!!” Everything broke loose after that, your members and the members of bangtan were running around screaming 'oh my gosh’ while the two of you sat frozen in your place.

“Both Jimin and (y/n) are the main vocalists right?” They asked after everyone had settled down. You nodded your head, looking at MC, preparing yourself of what’s to come. “Why don’t they do a duet here on Weekly Idol?”

“They need time to rehearse though.” J-Hope joined in. Defconn got the two of you to stand up and brought you to the side. “You two can take off your microphones and rehearse. We’ll call you back soon okay?” He smiled, patting you two on the back.

The two of you were backstage, realizing that you two actually had to perform a mini duet. “What is this.” You breathed out once Defconn walked back to the others to continue the segment. Jimin shrugged, “I guess well… I should introduce myself properly first. It’s nice to meet you, I’m Jimin.”

You smiled and shook his hand, “It’s nice to meet you too, my name is (Y/N).” The two of you chose a duet song and prepared it for 2minutes before they called you back into the scene.

“The staff has already prepared 2 mic stands for you. Let’s clap for the new couple duet!” Everyone cheered happily for the two of you. You two sang (a duet song) acapella version while everyone was actually silent for once, enjoying your short version. Once you two finished singing just the chorus, they clapped enthusiastically for the two of you. “Wow their voices really blend very well don’t you guys think so?” Hyung Don asked the other members who were just as mesmerized as the MCs.

“Thank you.” The two of you bowed shyly. Defconn pointed towards the camera and said, “This is a sign that these two need to make a duet song together soon.”

“And appear on We Got Married!” Hyung Don added and everyone laughed again. 'Back to teasing again.’ You thought to yourself.

Soon, you were down filming for Weekly Idol and they brought you to the lounge room to have snacks before heading to your other schedules. “Hey (y/n)!” Jimin called out your name as you walked out towards the lounge room where your group members were.

“Oh hi Jimin.” You greeted him with a bright smile, ignoring your loud thumping heartbeat. He smiled at you while rubbing the back of his neck, “I was thinking if we could exchange numbers or something? To you know… Keep in contact? If it’s alright with you I mean you don’t have—”

“It’s fine Jimin.” You laughed, finding his nervous side really cute, “I’d like that.” Jimin flashed a happy cheerful smile at you, taking out his phone and handed it to you. “I’m sorry if it was so awkward during the filming awhile ago.”

“Nah it was fine after awhile. Plus, I’m honoured that I’m your ideal type.” You decided to tease him. Jimin laughed, “And I’m honoured you like my laugh.”

“So… What makes me your ideal type?” You smirked, playfully nudging him. Jimin shook his head smiling at you. “Now that’s a secret.” He winked at you, making you blush slightly.

“Oh I didn’t get the chance to tell you this earlier but you have a really sweet voice.” Jimin complimented you. Your heartbeat quickened as you looked up to meet his eyes. “I liked your voice a lot too.” You returned the compliment.

“Hopefully one day we can sing together again!”

“I’d like that.” You nodded your head and he grinned cutely at you.

“Let’s join the others for snacks?” He gestured to the lounge room. You nodded your head, smiling at him. “Yea sure.” The two of you entered the room together, only to receive more teasing from both your group members.

“It’s our new couple!!”

Let’s just say that their sentence came true, and so did the duet plan suggested by Defconn.

anonymous asked:

Hi. I totally adore Natsume/Tanuma pairing. If it's not too much trouble I was wondering if you would do a compilation of your favourite moments of the couple, anime or manga, either is fine.

Ohhhh my gosh, I am SO SORRY for taking like four+ months to get to this thing! School was hectic for me and now that it’s summer I’ve calmed down a lot and also I’m in a TanuNatsu mood right now so let’s start!

Also I’ve edited with images that are relevant to said moments, therefore I’m putting this under a cut and I AM SO SORRY MOBILE USERS

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I think people are careful about what they say about Chelsea because her minion fans go crazy when she's criticised. I'm personally not fussed on her, I don't want her segments but tbh bc she's not a complete train wreck I find her quite boring. I have my own opinion but I keep it to myself because of the "let's not criticise Chelsea" bandwagon.

It gets a bit OTT. Credit is due because she’s put her daughter first and grown up a lot. But she’s only human. In the same vein though, I dislike the attempts made by some people to tear her down without reason.

anonymous asked:

Imagine Bucky buying that apartment in Bucharest and how he made it his home

Unfurnished, dirt cheap, and a seven-floor walkup- in short, exactly the kind of thing he was looking for. His kitchen is a small island with an element and a sink, and a couple cupboards for food.

His first purchase for the kitchen is a heavy cast-iron pan, adequate as defense weapon in case of home invasion, better for vegetables roasting in butter, a symphony of sharp popping and sizzling. he like the smell of food cooking. It reminds him of something not quite within memory’s reach.

There’s a dew markets which set up near his building, boasting a great deal of produce. Even in the winter there are roots and apples to purchase, and if the pickings are otherwise slim, the corner store a few blocks away supplies him with easy, filling food.

Soup simmers on his island’s element, and the city’s lights obscure all but the brightest stars. He watches airplanes pass through the night and sips from a white bowl with delicate red detailing.

When he dreams, he dreams of endless drifts of snow, a night awash in stars, and the smell of blood.

Better a moonless, starless night, and hearty vegetables floating in a soup.

He cautiously pries bread from a large cast-iron pot when this became home and not a hideaway. He gives what he can’t eat to the old lady who lives on his floor, who often enlists his help carrying groceries up all those stairs and rewards him with candy bars. As though he were a child. He likes the chocolate a great deal, though, and always takes them when she presses a couple in his hand.

The dreams don’t come like they did, replaced by sound and dreamless sleep which leaves him warm in the morning.

It is nearly spring, and the first shoots are coming in at the market. He devises a salad practically raw, save for segments of mandarins heated by the radiator, which crunch like thin sweet ice between his teeth.

He is happy in this solitary meal.

Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fonder (Harry)

I love this idea. It’s super sweet. The first part is him being cuddly, the middle is a memory, the end is happy for the relationship

(1,907 words)

“Harry, seriously, chill with the PDA.” Niall muttered, slapping a card onto the round table between the couches of the tour bus. “Sorry,” Harry mumbled and lifted his head and arm off of yours, but left one arm snaked around your shoulders as all of you played cards games. “Niall, go easy on him,” Liam said, looking between him and Sophia, “when Soph has to leave, I’ll probably be loads worse.” Niall rolled his eyes, “Yeah? Well thanks for the heads up, mate, I’ll remember not to hang out with you, then.” You and Harry shared a glance, a knowing smile. Rarely did you hold hands, let alone cuddle in public. It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy showing your affections, it was simply the overwhelming spotlight of being Harry Styles’ girlfriend that prevented it from happening.

You’d been on tour with the band for only two weeks, but in two weeks time, you’d been in the front row for nine concerts, toured six major cities in the United States, snuck Harry in and through five museums, and been photographed countless times by countless paparazzi. Frankly, you were exhausted and baffled at Harry’s still having enough vitality to continue the process year-round. 

“I’m gonna go get some coffee. Does anyone want anything?” No one answered, but Harry stood up, announcing he was joining you. You walked single-file down the bus until you reached the small kitchen space. As you brewed a pot of liquid caffeine, you felt Harry’s arms reach around your stomach, as he hugged you from behind. His big hands and metal rings simultaneously warmed and chilled your stomach on which they rested. “Harry,” you laughed rubbing his tight, tattooed bicep, “babe, I’m literally only meters from the group, you didn’t have to come with me.” He inhaled deeply, his nose in your hair. He rested his cheek against yours and spoke to your shoulder, barely above a whisper, “I know. I just don’t get to see you much lately, and tomorrow, you’re leaving me.” His barely-there stubble tickled your skin as he planted a soft kiss on your shoulder. “It’s not fair. We’re both doing what we absolutely love, and it’s keeping us apart.” 

“Physically,” you corrected him, “It’s keeping us apart only physically.” 

Neither of you planned on settling down any time soon, so if you wanted to spend any more time together, one of you would have to quit your job. Both of you were aware of that; it was one of the challenges you faced as a couple. And since your relationship was going strong for over a year, some decisions had to be made.

You sat in your car, a modest Honda Civic being more inconspicuous than Harry’s black Range Rover. The parking lot outside of Panera baked in the California sunlight. The dry air mimicked the lack of moisture in your throat following Harry’s confession. He repeated your name. “What do you think?” A family was crossing the asphalt and entering the restaurant, one child skipping ahead excitedly, an older one lagging behind, texting. “Uh,” you began, then paused, swallowing, “it’s not that I don’t feel the same way– believe me I do– I’m just… I never really planned on this relationship getting serious, especially since–”

“–Since I’m going on tour next week.” He finished for you. “Exactly.” He grabbed your hand and slowly dragged his thumb across yours. “You know good and well that I didn’t either. Any magazine or tabloid will tell you. It’s why my previous relationships have failed. I kept saying I was too young to have a serious relationship, that requires too much work. I wasn’t looking for that, but when you fall so hard for someone so quickly, the idea of working hard for a relationship with them becomes more appealing than the idea of being single and ‘free’, or whatever most male celebrities like about being single, I don’t know. The point is that we’re undeniably compatible. It’ll be work at first, and I’m prepared for that.” You nodded. 

The two of you fell for each other at a faster pace than you would ever recommend; however, for the two of you, it was nothing short of natural. You filled in for a sick journalist at work on the day your station interviewed One Direction. You did so well that when the original journalist announced it was morning sickness, you got promoted the position as lead anchor during her maternity leave. After the interview with the boys, you and Harry talked, hitting it off at the water cooler. You exchanged numbers, and the rest was history. In the span of their break from touring, you’d grown close, inseparable almost. Now, as he was about to leave, you tried talking about the future of your relationship over a panini and a soup and salad combo.

Now you sat in your car, running the air conditioner as cold as possible, as fiddling the nobs was your excuse not to have to make eye contact. “After you’re done with this tour, you’re just gonna keep cranking out albums and going on more tours, the cycle is endless.” You let out, finally meeting eyes with him. He immediately retorted, “At some point, we’ll have to slow down. That’s just how these things work.” 

“Harry, you never expected to last five years as a band, what if it never ends?”

“One of us will have to stop working at some point.”

“Is this relationship actually worth stopping our dreams, though?”

“Let’s try it and find out.” You hesitated. You always overthought things like this. You were a thinker over a feeler, but this one time, you sighed heavily, closed your eyes, smiled, and nodded. “Okay,” You opened your eyes to see his shocked face. “okay,” you repeated, “let’s do it. If it doesn’t work, we can’t pretend like it does, though. Deal?” He beamed, his sharp dimple appearing. “Deal.” You put out your hand for a hand shake, but he leaned in and sealed the deal with a kiss.

“If physical distance is our only problem, I’d say we’re doing a good job as a couple.” You recited your couples’ motto. Still behind you, he smiled weakly against your neck. He finished the often-recited phrase of yours, “I know. The thought of being without you at all hurts more than the thought of having you, only far away.” You filled your thermos with the strong-smelling coffee. Turning around into his embrace, you snuggled into his toned chest, and you could hear his heart beating faster than normal. You loved that he still got excited with you; there was something strangely empowering about it. He kissed your forehead, and you looked up at him to see him looked down at you, the height difference giving him a slight double chin. “I’m utterly hopeless when it comes to you, you know that?” He asked before lifting your chin with a finger, leaning down, and kissing you ever so softly. “I love you, H.”


The phone rang, startling you out of your daydreaming. The smell of the cheap coffee that the receptionist gave you had transported you to another world, with Harry. Tearing your eyes away from the photograph of you and him that sat on your desk, you picked it up. 

“Yes?” You recognized the number as your colleagues who were in the meeting room adjacent to your cubicle.

“Hey, would you mind coming into the meeting room for just a sec, we had an idea.”

“Uhm, okay. I’m not in trouble, am I?” You looked at your coworkers in the meeting room, and your boss on the phone was looking back at you, laughing.

“No, quite the opposite. Just get in here.”

“Aye aye, captain.”

The meeting room was significantly colder, so you drew your cardigan around your shoulders. “There she is,” Your boss stood and shook your hand, “As you know, the reporter you’ve been filling in for is almost ready to come back.“ You nodded, picking at the fraying cuff of your sleeve, embarrassed at what you knew he was going to say. “But anyone who knows a lick about journalism knows that you’re the best anchor this company’s ever seen,” You managed a small “thank you” as the other anchors and production crew sitting around the table agreed. “Basically, since we can’t just fire her, that would be unprecedented, we’re going to start a new segment on the show, only if you want. It should work better with your goals for a career anyway.” Curiosity overwhelmed you, “My what?” He laughed, “Your goals. Have a seat.” As you sat, he pulled up a slide show. “When we first interviewed you, we asked about your long-term goals. One of the reasons we chose you was because though you were overwhelmingly grateful for the opportunity to interview for the position of and the potential of becoming a researcher for a news station, you had goals to be something bigger. You wanted to travel, see the world, report about the goings-on of individual cities. Expand people’s perceptions of the world.” You found yourself smiling at the just the thought. That was one thing you loved about your work vacations. You could stop worrying about being “professional” and covering your simple tattoos or taking out your piercings. You could wear your hair natural, without styling, and worry less about your appearance and more about seeing as much of the world as possible. And Harry was your excuse and financial means of exploring some corners of the world that you wouldn’t ever be able to reach without his being in the picture. “I’d love that,” you said, more to yourself as your heart beat harder at what your boss was about to offer you. 

“Well, we’ve increased our viewership a lot this quarter, thanks partially to you, so we figured we’d splurge and do just that. We’re going to have a travel segment of news, a weekly installment, and each episode, a different location. We’d like you to be in charge of it.” Your jaw hit the floor. “This is literally a dream come true… a godsend… I…” Words escaped you. He continued, “And… I know from our personal relationship– I’m taking off my ‘boss’ hat and putting on my ‘friend’ one, here– this will be good for your relationship. I’ve seen your photo and video samples from your experiences with him, and they’re beautiful. I honestly can’t think of anyone better suited for this job.” Tears began welling up in your eyes. You stuttered your obvious response, “I mean, we’ll have to work out technicalities and logistics, but I accept, I’d be crazy to turn this down.” You said excitedly. 

You sat in the meeting room for a few more hours working out your first day, how you’d send your footage in, how you’d get your script, the research you’d have to do, the places you’d go. Though it was very structured, you still retained plenty of latitude. You were basically your own boss, and you couldn’t be more proud.

You remembered your previous conversations.

“One of us is going to have to slow down and possibly even quit our dream if we find that we want to keep this relationship up.”

Not anymore.

“Harry,” You said excitedly to his voicemail, “I’ve got the best news. FaceTime me tonight, okay? I love you!”


I love women. And as I get older, my life is becoming increasingly about them. I dance with women, I speak with women, I am coached, sponsored by, and counseled by women. I meet them for coffee. I talk to them about sex. I ask them for advice. I hold them while they cry. I love the deep feelings. And the competition. The struggle to be seen and held. The intimacy. The complication. The ability to heal.

My experience at S-Factor has deepened this for me, surely, but on some level, it’s always been this way for me. I remember reading Anita Diamant’s “The Red Tent” in middle school and being just obsessed with the vivacious, earthy, female community of the novel. It was this raucous irreverent crew separated from everyone else just because they were female. They were special, ancient, and secret. Aunts, cousins, daughters, grandmas, sitting on moss and bleeding in a tent in the desert, while rubbing each other’s feet with oil and cackling about their husbands. Oh my god. I wanted to eat it. I wanted to be there.

It echoed for me. Because even as a middle-schooler, I knew that being a woman does feel like that. Quarantined and venerated. Ever since I went through puberty, I’ve felt like I was a part of a club that everyone was obsessed with and also couldn’t wait to abuse. On the public bus, in a piazza in Italy, I remember those first pre-teen moments, when people started watching me. The power you’re gifted just by being a woman. It comes without your permission, and it’s heady, potent.  

But the lack of control over that power; it comes too. The first time you feel it, it’s both. It’s neither. You don’t have tools to deal with it yet. You didn’t ask for it. It just arrived. On that same trip to Europe, just as I started to glow under male attention, someone in Turkey tried to buy me from my family. My parents joked. The man was serious. I was 12. 

It’s a complication that I’ve spent years trying to unravel, and one of the main reasons I went to S-Factor in the first place. Before I learned to dance, my sexuality felt like something that was always a reflection of someone else. Desire was put upon me, but I could only mirror it back, enjoy it sometimes, but know that it wasn’t mine. So as a woman, when you start hearing stories of rape, on TV, from your friends. It isn’t a surprise. At least, it wasn’t for me. Because on some level, I’ve always known that I was prey. You feel it. You do. 

But as an adult, my outrage at these stories is becoming difficult to carry. Suddenly, despite knowing about this quiet threat for years, sensing it in corners and alleys and at clubs, and in class, I can’t handle it anymore. The more empowered I become personally and the more obsessed I become with women and what they hold inside of them, the more I’m starting to feel like I can’t live in a world where sexual assault continues to happen. Globally. Epidemically.

And I do mean “feel.” I actually feel it. The nausea, watching the gang-rape scene in “Top of the Lake,” the helplessness, watching the news coverage of the Ariel Castro case, the absolute horror, the outrage, the disgust, rising up in the back of my throat as I hear about the rampant rape of women officers in the army, or in prisons, or the insane spinning blathering about the Woody Allen case. This happens over and over and over and over and over and over and over again, to my friends, to my teachers, to my role models, to my sisters. It happens so much that it’s on TV. It’s a part of our entertainment. Of course, “Top of the Lake”, or “The Killing”, didn’t spare me from the gory details of their fictional gang-rapes. Why would they? We’re used to this. We aren’t horrified anymore because it happens so fucking often. Women are victimized, women are victimized, women are victimized. Bodies chopped up. Invaded. Buried. The end. Tune in next week.

There is an entire “Law and Order” series dedicated to sexual crimes. We tune in to watch it with a tacit acceptance. A sigh. Yes, this happens. What a shame. We shrug and watch and feel better that fictional justice is meted out, but don’t worry about the fact that no one helped her in the moment. No one stopped it - not the abuser, not the people who may have heard her screaming. No one decided that this woman, that all women, are too beautiful and complex and real to dehumanize and violate, and just stopped it. These fictional abusers took what was there, because they’ve learned that we allow that. And we do allow it, don’t we? Doesn’t it continue to happen? Everywhere?

In order to function as a woman in the world, you have to walk around pretending you’re not that vulnerable. As individuals we believe that we’re stronger. I remember, at 24-years-old, play-fighting with my boyfriend in his bed. “Bet you can’t pin me” I teased. I did spin-class. I did yoga. I believed it. So we tussled. We rolled around, and pushed and hit. And he pinned me. Easily. So we tussled harder. Then we tussled again. And again and again. Because he could always pin me. All skinny, pale, 6 feet of him could pin me. Every time. Even when I fought past the point of flirtation. Even when I started to get pissed. To really try. He could pin me. He could always fucking pin me. And it all came home to me, right then, that I couldn’t get away. If anyone wanted to do anything to me. I couldn’t claw, fight, scratch my way out of it. Not even me, who felt so strong. Who did so much research. It doesn’t matter how capable you are if someone decides to take something from you. And we’re living in a world where that happens all the time. Where subconsciously, we must be validating this behavior, or it wouldn’t continue on such a profound level. 

Should I be surprised that I asked, in bed, to be dominated by my boyfriend? In the safety of a man I trusted, that I should seek to explore what is such a fundamental part of the female experience? Being held down? Being forced?

Watching TV today, I felt that it was a fucking miracle that I made it through high school and college without being raped. And how deeply fucked up is that? We’re steeped in it. A fellow actress in my acting class had to pretend to be fucked backwards over a table while reading off a list of missed calls to her fictional boss, once. She had to walk into an audition room, and let people see her that way to try to get a job. How deeply dehumanizing. How disgusting that someone even felt entitled to write that role. And don’t even get me started on Khaleesi, everyone’s favorite princess on “Games of Thrones” who, just an episode or two after we meet her, is raped on her marital bed by an enormous Dothraki man who has recently purchased her, and proceeds to then fall in love with her (apparently gentle-hearted) rapist? Please. This is so widespread and so sick. And yet is it better to acknowledge these things by writing stories about them, than to keep them secret? Is it better to tell these stories so that we feel this outrage?  

I don’t know. I don’t know if it is. At least, I don’t know if it’s better to tell them in this way. In this, throw up your hands, clean up the mess sort of way. The cops come afterwards. Couldn’t save her. Couldn’t stop it, but at least someone will be punished. Sort of. Unless they’re famous. Or rich, then it’s pretty much whatever. Right?

What I’d rather see, than sad stories of abuse that someone swoops in to try to half-assedly address, is an absolute refusal to tolerate these crimes in the first place. Rather than TV shows trying to mete out justice in one-hour segments, I’d rather see men on TV becoming empowered to stop each other in the moment. High school boys resisting peer pressure, not succumbing to it. Father figures who even though they’re in a half-hour comedy, defend their women, rather than being cowed by them. 

I’d also rather see law enforcement becoming accountable for stopping these crimes before they happen, not just cleaning up the mess. Part of the horror I feel watching these crime dramas is that by the time they start investigating it’s already too fucking late. It’s over. She’s dead. Or raped. Or brutalized.

And this passivity is not just on TV. At 25, a drug-addict neighbor started leaving notes in my mailbox and waiting for me on my porch when I came home at night. He would bang on the door when I wouldn’t answer. He would yell at me through the windows. I went to the cops. "Has he hurt you?“ They said. When I told them "not yet,” they said “You live in Hollywood. What do you want me to do?” And in response to my shocked silence? “Don’t be that woman." "What woman?” I asked. “The woman who whines that we won’t help her until something bad happens." 

Yes. God forbid we act BEFORE something bad happens. God forbid we fight systematic oppression with a little proactivity. If we want these crimes to end, then it’s clearly not enough to just document these stories and sigh and look away or to tell your daughters not to walk down alleys alone at night like it’s her responsibility to keep herself from being raped by someone. We have to try to right this terrible wrong that keeps being perpetrated again and again, not just mop it up afterwards. What the fuck are we doing? Why is this still happening? And why are we watching it happen while we eat popcorn on our couches? Would we all tune it to see a series about lynching? Torture? Racial profiling? Then why we do tune in to see women being cut into pieces? Publicly humiliated? Raped? It is not entertaining. It is horrifying. And it’s closer to home than anyone would care to admit. 

I’ve always known that being a woman was complicated. That it comes with a price. That the joy I find in being desirable, is also a liability - I’ve been taught that. My life has taught me that. But even I was shocked, as I sat in a group therapy session just a few months ago, to hear a friend, an incredibly beautiful 23-year-old girl, a girl I was jealous of, to be totally transparent, tell us, with horrifying casualness about a recent sexual assault and wrap up by saying "I know this isn’t my fault. I know that when I look this way, these things will happen to me. It’s just the way it is.” She understood the price of her body. She understood that over and over again, no one fucking helped her. Not even her mother believed her when she came clean, because it’s too painful to open your eyes to a world in which this happens, epidemically.  

You guys. It just doesn’t have to be this way. 

Talk to your sons. Talk to your friends. Write about your experiences. Defend your daughters. Stop laughing at misogyny. Go pick something you can do and go to work. It’s not just women who have to fix this. It’s all of us. So get outraged. Start with your own community, and do something. I know I fucking have. And make better TV, people. Give us men who give a shit, and cops who get there in time. I am done feeling this helpless. 

anonymous asked:

h-hello! i was wondering if you've seen this (yet?) and whether you could please tell me the gist of what it says if you want/have the time? thank you. ;-; pic(.)twitter(.)com/3QAXVDkDPg

OH HAHAHAH i just RT’d that a little while ago! 

anyway, the reason why this got posted up was because that’s haru’s segment and literally everything written there is about rin ;///; it’s basically about – oh whatever i was going to post it anyway so i’ll just translate the thing:

Rarely showing his emotions, Haruka lived his life as though it were for the sake of water and water alone. However, ever since Rin showed up, that world of his had changed completely. Despite having felt, at first, things as far as hatred towards Rin – who had forced his way into his heart with no regard – Rin’s attitude towards swimming and the words “I’ll show you a sight you’ve never seen before,” moved his heart, and there he learned the joys of swimming with nakama. But, due to a collision with Rin that occured after, he quit his junior high swimming team, and ended up leading an inactive life even as a high schooler. By swimming the relay with his new nakama, however, he was able to remember the joys of swimming with others, and extend his hand out to Rin, who was unable to move forward.  By overcoming both their pasts, he, alongside Rin, was able to grow.

i think the biggest ;_________;-factor here is that last line. the important part is to note that – haru and rin didn’t just grow. they grew WITH EACH OTHER. bc they’re just so crucial to each other’s lives and i just – need to go lie down. 

So I just went back and watched my pre-screen version of Shameless 5.01 again and I can’t wait until the 11th when everyone else gets to see it!! I want to be able to blog about it and talk about it, gah, it’s killing me. My first reactions without any spoilers are:

  • Mickey in the here’s what you missed segment, yay!!
  • I wish they would have updated the title sequence, though
  • Liam is the most adorable thing ever
  • I love everything about the Milkovich household
  • Still don’t like Sammi - even more than ever
  • Sheila and Mickey, who aren’t even Gallaghers, steal every scene they are in
  • Ian, no!!!! And dammit, Mickey.
  • OK, Fiona is pretty, but not THAT pretty. Come on!

Honestly, not much to freak out about yet. It’s just an episode that sets up the stories for the rest of the season. But it got me so excited for the stories to really take off.  Now the wait for 5x02 is going to be too long.

My two-bits into this whole rolling stone article:

When I woke up this morning and heard all of this shit about their rolling stones interview, I honestly felt kinda disappointed in them.

But now, having actually read the interview, I feel a little better about it. I can see where they went wrong in some of the things they said, but I don’t think the things they said were as controversial as everyone is making them out to be.

I don’t know what’s the truth. Their words and the context could very well have been twisted. A lot of magazines twist the words and the context of interviews to present the interviewee in a certain way. It’s cruel how they so easily pick up on small, irrelevant details and then manipulate them into something much bigger than what they are. You read the parts of the interview the editor and the author want you to read. You never know, they could have talked more about the music and talked highly of positive fan experiences and their gratitude for everything we do for them. But if the editors don’t want us to see that, they take it out as if it never happened. Or they just avoid asking the questions that would get that sort of answer. Who the hell knows for sure?

The article itself is shit; I don’t mean to sound rude or discrediting to the author in anyway, but it’s really poorly written. It sounds more like a really bad fanfic than an article for a respectable and prestigious magazine; the way it jumps from one thing to other takes away from any fluency the author was hoping for. The context could have been explained a lot better as well, but I feel as though that was left out on purpose.

As for the content, I could see which segments people got pissed over . I think what hurt people the most is when Luke was talking about the multiple hook ups in one night thing. I think (correct me if I’m wrong) that some people have interpreted that as them saying that the only fans they care about are the ones who would willingly fuck them. For the case of it being multiple hook ups in one night, are you really that surprised? We all know about groupies; we all know that 5sos have/have had them. I don’t think you should be too surprised that they hooked up with more than one girl in one night, it’s not uncommon for band members in particular to do that. (I’m not saying it’s right but it’s not as if other bands don’t do it too.) I heard a 5sos groupie story once where two fans have seen six girls enter a tour bus with 5sos at one time. If that story is true, there was six girls and there is four of 5sos; it’s safe to say that at least one member got lucky more than once that night.

Another thing I picked up on is when they were talking about their failed writing session with Chad Kroeger. They mentioned how he sometimes googles “hot girls dancing.” (Which tbh, is way creepier than if 5sos did, because Kroeger is like 40 or something.) And then Michael admitted to when he was 11, he used take safe search off and Google-image ‘boobs.’ I don’t know if people have even picked up on him saying this and are pissed about it or not, but I think it’s important to remember that Michael did say this was when he was eleven. I highly doubt he still does this now that he’s twenty, but he was an eleven year old boy and was probably intrigued or something. (I mean how many times do we say shit like “why is there always something covering him?” whenever Luke is naked in a photo? And a lot of us are older than eleven so…)

I don’t think there’s much more I have left to say. I’m not trying to defend anything they’ve said, some things would have been better left unsaid I think. I just know that a lot of us are disappointed and are even thinking of leaving the fam or whatever so, as a last resort sort of thing, I thought I would put a different perspective on things. Though they should have just not said half of the things they did say in the first place, if I’m honest.

I think it’s also good to note about the segments on Michael’s mental health, the joy he felt when he got two guitars for his birthday off the boys, Ashton and his family background and when they talk about what made them want to be a band. That was all in there too.

Please keep in mind that Rolling Stone is not a magazine geared up for young fans and females. Rolling Stone is a magazine notorious for presenting men in the industry as “lads” who like to party and have sex. So this interview was hardly going to be about how they enjoy going for coffee and cake.

(P.S. Other bands have done and said much worse. Other bands do and say the same sort of thing. But because they’re credited as ‘real bands’ and not as a 'boy band’, they’re normally praised for it. The excuse given for them? They’re bands, they live the rock and roll lifestyle, of course)