#the art in this is so gorgeous goddam

[wraithsoutlaws]

Hey! You short circ'n' on me or somethin'? The fuck you wipe all your chooms for if not for them fuckin' eddies?

Cyberpunk 2077: XoXo #2 Written by Bartosz Sztybor Art by Jakub Rebelka

#cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk 2077 xoxo #bruh.... #diNO?!!!???? #the art in this is so gorgeous goddam

[soulsilvers]

malding so hard over kung fu panda 4. this is the one movie franchise ive hardcore fixated on my entire life if you even care. we went from the second funny jack black panda movie being the most surprisingly emotional goddam gorgeous animated film about literal genocide, trauma, adoption and identity with amazing art direction for the 2D animated parts that makes you shit bricks for days because of how unexpectedly hard the lol funi slapstick jack black panda movie you just saw at the cinema went to awkwafina fox making a "i want to speak to the manager" joke

#JENNIFER YUH NELSON SAVE ME...... STEPHANIE MA STINE SAVE ME #old man yaoi was good in 4 though thats obvious

[seapott]

Blue lock interacting with fans hcs

-we’ve only really seen isagi interact with fans and he was pretty sweet

He can deal with kids pretty well and is that kid that your parents like better then you so his age range of fans is pretty broad

He becomes a bit enthusiastic when bowing to thank fans or greet them so videos go around of him where it’s just

“Ah *bows* thank you *bows* yes *bows* thank you *bows* hello! *bows* thank you! *bows*”

His fans are the best gift givers

Jewellery, plushies, art you name it

He makes sure to show off as many gifts as he can when he’s on tv

-Rin he’s uh…good…ig

I hc that he’s one of the youngest in his whole family(cousins ect included) so he’s never really had to deal with little kids before

Turns out that when little kids see him they just think climb so he ends up standing in a busy mall with five random children hanging off him like he’s a tree and he has no idea what to do about it

Old fan quiet like him too

They don’t hear most of his shit talking on the field so they just see “a really ambitious player that reminds me of my youth☺️”

Rin is more respectful then you think…which is still probably not a lot

Also 😐✌️ is his go-to photo pose I don’t make the rules

-someone save reo

So many old business men come up to him talking about his dad and stuff

He’s so over it

He can tell just by looking at people whether they are approaching him for his rich family or actually care about his soccer career

But when he does meet good fans he’s very kind

Prefers handmade gifts over anything else because he feels it’s a ‘one of a kind’ item to receive

He has the most gorgeous signature goddam

People get him to write it everywhere: their bodies, on the back of their shirt, spray-paint it on their car and houses, as a tattoo literally everything

-chigiri is really treated like a king

His fans almost worship him I swear

They are they type to roll out a red carpet when he’s exiting the stadium

Or create some sort of fan chant when they see him in person

He finds it a little funny, awfully humiliating, but funny

He’s also one of the most famous on social media because people who don’t even know he plays soccer follow him cause he’s pretty

Because his hair is so long fans often gift him ribbon and bows to braid into his hair when he’s playing

He updates his social media whenever he had a medical check up on his knee with ‘knees still good 👍’ and then ‘knees still good’ goes trending for the day…

#blue lock #bllk #isagi yoichi #reo mikage #chigiri hyoma #I might do more of these later cause goddam brain think hard #bllk headcanons #itoshi rin

[lokisgoodgirl]

@chantsdemarins

Your art is amazing. Frost Secrets from the Other Son is an amazing series. I couldn’t wait to get to the next chapter every night. I’m so lucky to have you as a friend. Love you. ❤️

Hell to the YEAH!!!!!

I remember so vividly the first time that I read a @chantsdemarins story and thinking 'what the fuck is this magic...' 😂 - her style is incomparable. I think it's the way she can manipulate the tone so easily with her words, and the scene setting and headcanons she has about her AUs are truly spectacular. And the internal monologues that pull me to the floor? Flawless. PLUS, she's also a beautiful person? The full goddam package. So basically, as @simplyholl says...thank you so much @chantsdemarins for gifting us your work and for being a lovely friend and ally in this place, you're amazing❤️ And thank you @simplyholl for this gorgeous Love Note, she deserves it!

#LGG Love Notes

[cubedmango]

i have not had time yet to sit down and rewatch the final episode to write comprehensive thoughts but i did absolutely need to tell u i looked at the endings songs lyrics like right before work and i was just like. on the floor. in so much pain. I CAN SEE WHY U LEFT IT TO THE END BC IT HITS SO HARD.... LIKE WHAT ARE THE LYRICS SO SWEET FOR??? my god like first we have "like, say, its cold out but your smile is all warm" IM SICK!!! MY HEARTS SO WARM HEARING THAT... ADACHIS SMILE IS HIS WARMTH...

AUGH YEAH literally at first i wasnt gonna translate the song bc i wasnt sure if i could do it well but i had to do it anyway for ep4 so i did the whole song and let me tell u . the experience of reading those original lyrics and Finally Getting What They Really Mean Was . Something Else I Swear ..... then i jst knew i had to post it after ep13 so it would Hit Hard for everyone else too 😔 (putting the rest of ur asks under the cut for length akfjkdsf)

2/ "every chance comes after endless waiting" im just remembering how live action drama kurosawa was in love with adachi for like 7 years or some crap and like ok im normal totally ... "want to muster courage, hold your hand just once" IM SO. IM SOOO NORMAL ABOUT THESE LINES... its such a simple request and yet it means the absolute world... and the way both of them sang the line... and im just. i remembering ur headcanon how adachi thought he may had only one last time to hold kurosawas hand

THE SEVEN YEARS DONT REMIND ME GOD !!!!!!!!! now ur making me think of the song in la drama kurodachi context w kurosawas Extended yearning and domestic dreams and .hhrhf . .jj jhwhejhjj !! kdjdhvk, jfh (<- having a very normal one)

why would u hurt me w my own hc Hey Hello . Ouch????? when they just wanna hold hands? ???? ???? (curls up and cries)

3/ "let the world lend me to you and bare its heart" ITS SO PRETTY?? IDK SOMETHING ABOUT HOW THEY LIKE PERSONIFY THE WORLD IS JUST VERY GORGEOUS TO ME.... "your throne's made of plenty love and praises / riches in form of many's first love / yet how's it that you hoard all that love just for me" how. how did you survive this. im on the floor. was thinking abt this all day. I GET IT U GUYS ARE IN LOVE KUROSAWAS ABSOLUTE DEVOTION TO ADACHI. just how his whole heart his everything goes to his love

YEAAHH the world as a metaphor for love and acceptance is [chefs kiss] So Good

i did not survive it i think abt those lines All the time ....... i did tweak them a liiitle bit in favor of matching the og syllable count (and creative liberty) but i hope i got the same idea across????? anyways kurosawa having so many ppls (superficial) love yet he keeps all of his love for adachi only no matter if it got reciprocated or not bc adachi saw past his perfection and Saw Him As A Goddam Person . they make me so sick in the head help

4/ "wait to meet me at the crossroads of life" i rlly like how kurosawas the one singing this line?? bc usually it's kurosawa doing the "waiting" until adachis is ready but this time hes calling out to him to wait for him? and im just? i have to lie down?? like this is not ok??? "though the world never once kissed my forehead" makes my heart hurt and "you still have me going on my tiptoes" i think of the cover art where he is on his tiptoes to kiss kurosawa i think and im just :>

SO TRUEEE when both of them wait for each other and they walk forward together ....... i cant express emotions in words anymore i need crycat pics

oh god speaking of the cover art kiss ive been meaning to draw that ep13 scene w adachi on his tippy toes for the longest fucking time i just. my face gets so red when i make any ship content beyond like holding hands so u can imagine the kind of stress im under . also kisses are inherently a bitch to draw i hate them !!!!! still gonna keep trying tho

5/ "if the world doesn't bare its heart to your eyes / then please let me hold your hand for it instead" IM JUST. THE HAND HOLDING. THEY JUST WANT TO HOLD HANDS.... and again i still think the whole thing abt the world is so pretty you know? ok ok and now where im tooootally ok and fine but "i long to sleep with you on one pillow / fall into shared dreams as i turn around / at the time please dont break them at bedside" THE DOMESTIC IMAGE? JUST WANTING TO BE TOGETHER IN SUCH A WAY? LIKE HEY????

thinks abt kurodachi having each other no matter what happens in their lives. holding hands despite it all. explodes

THE DOMESTICITY OF IT ALL !!!!!!! ITS SO SIMPLE YET IT HITS SO MUCH ...........

i dont remember what number i was on bc reacting to that last line just made me go through all the emotions again IM JUST. SOOOOO. how can such a small and simple request mean the world... mean the future... mean so much... i want them to enjoy such peaceful days forever and always and be in love till the end of time!!!! ok finally "a dream most sweet is that your smile is all warm" im on the floor. destroyed. thank you so much for these translations!!! I TRULY APPRECIATE IT I HAVE TO LAY DOWN

i am wishing rd kurodachi a very I Hope They Are Living Their Best And Happiest Lives Together And Forever (remembers manga vol 6-9 plots theyd hypothetically also go through) oh god oh fuck- (remembers vol 10 plot theyd hypothetically go through) OH WAIT-

LIES DOWN ALSO sorry abt the destroying i had no choice i was compelled by a dark force into writing that line . and again ty for yelling abt the sons w me im excited for ur ep13 rewatch asks kdjsfkjs

#my answer #making a kurodachi cover was so evil of the rd team i swear to god #like was the original song not painful enough? did they have to hurt us more??? #they saw the la drama changing the op and ed slightly for their last ep and said ''ok that but 10 times more heart wrenching'' #incredible decision tho i think more shows should do this

[taupewolfy]

every 10 minutes in psychonauts 2 has me going 'holy shit :D' outloud

#it's the amazing art direction like holy fucking shit #my jaw has dropped multiple times and every sequence so far has managed to delight me for that fact #like GODDAM that is some delicious and strong art direction #tech wizadry too those shaders and materials are fucking gorgeous

[the-girl-who-cried-wolf]

49., 61. and 66. for the weird ask thing!😊

ok first of all, i was literally going to ask you all these!! (i just didn’t want to overwhelm you with questions) anyways...

49. what saying or quote do you live by?

well there’s actually quite a lot lets see...well you course i’m sure you know i love walt whitman (for obvious reasons) and the quote from one of his poems that we were talking about before “what will your verse be?” that’s one that keeps me motivated to always keep pushing myself more to contribute, create, to be alive and enjoy it, not just sit back and watch as other people add to the world and make it more wonderful.

there’s also one “to take the road less travelled” (hang on i’ll find the actual thing before i go quoting stuff - ok well surprise surprise, this is also from dps, god i love that movie) its a poem i think, written by robert frost  “two roads diverged in a wood and i - i took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference” i love this quote so much, i always think of this one, and others of similar sentiment, whenever i’m afraid of being judged by others, or i’m too scared to be different, to actually be myself. (basically everything keating said in the scene where he used this quote, in the courtyard where he was talking about the dangers of conformity. as you know, the todd in me can sometimes prevent myself from seeing that what i have to offer is just as good and valid, even if it doesn’t fit expectations or other people’s ideas)

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?

omgggg this one so hard, like the previous question there are so many i love!! the main one coming to mind rn is ofc jane austen (i think i’ve quoted dps enough so far, i’ll branch out a little)

i love the line mr knightly says to emma “if i loved you less i might be able to talk about it more” it’s just so gorgeous. and also one from becoming jane, which i love and can partially relate to as a writer “my character shall have, after a little trouble, all that they desire” (i think i got that right, correct me if i didn’t) but i jut love how it shows they way we can use art forms, such as writing, so create better worlds and live the lives we want, even if we can’t physically 

66. favorite flower(s)?

i actually love flowers so goddam much, they’re just these beautiful vibrant beings of all shapes and sizes and meanings and they all smell simply glorious- anyways i’m getting side tracked again oops. i have to say roses are up there on my list, however cliched that is, they are too gorgeous in looks and smell to not be a favourite. another one that i adore is gypsophila (also called baby’s breath) because of it’s simplicity and little dainty flowers, so pretty.

anyways, gosh i really rambled on these, sorry!! i hope that answered them well enough, and thank you for asking my love <3

[duran-durdani]

is sebastian basil the hottest boy ive ever seen the answer is yes. jesus christ he has muscles all over his goddam body and he's not showy about them but i'll see his arm get bigger when he picks up a bag or i can see his flat fucking goddam stomach under a t-shirt and i can't take it. the curve of his ass is? unreal. i put my hand on the depression between his back and his butt and my hand can scarcely bend concave enough to touch it all. he's fucking slight as anything but he can scoop me up whenever the fuck he wants and spin me around or carry me or fuck me in midair and no one should be so beautifully slender and be able to do that too. god his legs look so good in jeans and i know they're just filled with muscle and so so strong even though he doesn't think so, and his ears just always ask me to nibble on them and his neck looks infinitely better with some of my bites on it, the way his hair falls into his face makes him look like adonis and his face???? i fucking can't i'm honest to god tearing up a little and it is but 7:58 pm. his smile melts my heart, hes got those gorgeous teeth and his warm brown eyes crinkle because he smiles with his whole goddam face. his scruff doesn't hurt me and it makes him look so fucking sexy. his glasses complement his face so well and they rest on his cheekbones and they just announce that he makes art and i know he loves making art with me but the joke is that he is the art and aphrodite and zeus didn't know what they were lusting for if they hadn't met him. he's golden and sunshine and warmth. he is all the greeks could have wanted and for some reason i get to put my tiny hands anywhere i want on him and I am legitimately the luckiest girl in the world. If i weren't about to date him i would have the biggest FUCKING crush on him and i didn't even think i got crushes anymore.

[notyourprettyboyxo]

Coffee&Charcoal

modern harringrove

nsfw

“Next,” the barista called out, startling Steve from his thoughts. He stepped forward, staring blankly at the barista. He was one of the most….gorgeous men Steve had ever seen. Curly blonde hair pulled back into a bun, curling casually around a cut jawline. Steve couldn’t find words as the tongue came out between two pink lips, “anything you like?” The mocking tone brought Steve back to the present. 

“I-Sorry?” Steve asked, trying to catch the last words said to him.

The man sighed, and Steve watched as his gaze traveled up and down Steve. It took all the self-control he had to not fidget under the intense gaze, “anything you like….pretty boy?” The grin widened, shark-like, the tongue swiping along his teeth. 

Steve’s eyes narrowed at the barista, “The name’s Steve.”

“Alright….pretty boy,” the smile only got more intense, his enjoyment coming from his ability to piss Steve off.

“Flat white, thanks,” Steve said, reaching for his wallet. He may be pretty, but definitely a dick.

He had set up with his drawing book at the window seat when his coffee was dropped off to him. In lifting the drink to his lips, his eyes landed on the napkin, in a script that was far neater than he would have expected; he found a note. One that took several glances to fully realize.

        Pretty Boy, 

                The name’s Billy. 

                xxx-xxx-xxxx

Steve snorted as he folded the napkin and placed it in his bag. While his last serious relationship had been in high school, he wasn’t quite ready for anything like that yet. He wanted to focus on school and not be concerned with curly haired barista’s named Billy. 

As he prepared to leave, Steve considered the napkin. On impulse he ripped a sheet from his sketchbook and hastily wrote in slanting script;

        Billy,

                You want to see me? Come to my show on Friday night.

                9pm 342 Herring Rd.

                        Ps. Dress nice.

                        -Not your Pretty Boy-

He left the paper before he could rethink his actions. 

Steve spent the week working frantically on his final art pieces. When Steve found himself imagining the final piece, he knew he had to do it. Time be damned, but this lead to thinking about what would happen on Friday. He wondered if he’d even show. Wondering what he’d do if he did show. It was not just that though, Steve found himself thinking of those pink lips wrapped around him, Billy on his knees before him; thinking about him late in the night when Steve could take everything into his own hand.  

Something about the barista brought a desire that Steve hadn’t had for years. 

Finally, Friday night came around and Steve was standing in front of his clothes, considering what he could wear to his show that would display him in the best light. Finally settling on black slacks and a dark red button-down, Steve took a final look before leaving. He had a show to do. 

“Steve, this is great!” Nancy gushed, her grin was infectious with Jonathon nodding behind her, letting her voice opinions for both.

Steve felt himself go red as he considered the room. The show was a culmination of the last six months of his arts degree. He had focused primarily on charcoal life drawings, using acrylic to add emphasis where necessary. The effect within the room was dark, gritty and sometimes a bit more honest than Steve was comfortable showing. 

Steve thanked them and stepped away to watch the room, wine glass in hand. His eyes caught on a leather jacket. The man in question, gazing at a piece that Steve had done a couple of months ago. A four feet tall charcoal drawing of feet tangled in blankets. It was the light that had captured him, begging to be recorded. Steve made his way across the room to stand beside him, “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

Billy turned to him, his eyes trailing up Steve, “wouldn’t have missed it, pretty boy.” his tongue darting out again. Steve found himself watching the movement. His pants getting tighter at the brief movement, “this is a foot fetishist dream though.” Billy said, turning back to the sketch. 

Steve rolled his eyes as he looked at it, “it’s about intimacy, dick.”

“So who’s the one in these then? Girlfriend?” Billy asked. 

Steve frowned, watching Billy, “no. Just…momentary companions,” he struggled to find a better term than one night stands, but that’s what they’d been.

Billy snorted, “momentary companions. Goddam pretty boy.”

“What? Is there an issue with that?” Steve asked, turning to face Billy fully.

“Would have pegged you as the type with the high school sweetheart.” Billy shrugged, walking to the next piece. A study of hands grasping the pages of a book. 

“Left that a long time ago,” Steve said, following him. “How about you, girlfriend?”

Billy actually looked at him at that, an eyebrow raised, “I haven’t been obvious enough then pretty boy? I’m about as gay as they come.”He said it with a level of finality that Steve couldn’t help but wonder if there was something behind it all. Steve found his fingers itching for his charcoal, watching the focused eyes on something other than him, made him want to sketch it and preserve it forever. 

Steve said nothing as they walked through the various artworks. He considered the man in front of him, he didn’t know what to make of him. Steve had thought it might just have been a quick fuck. But now? Now he found himself wanting more, wanting to explore who Billy was. Who he had been and who he would become. 

How the fuck was he going to do that without scaring him off? 

Steve found himself watching Billy and not watching the room. People were beginning to leave, and one internal struggle later, Steve pulled himself away from Billy and said goodbye and thank you to those leaving. It wasn’t until Billy Nancy had left, promising to call the next day, that Steve realized Billy was the only person left in the room.

“You’re something else, pretty boy.” came Billy’s voice from across the room. He was staring at Steve’s most recent piece. A blown up sketch of a coffee cup, a napkin with indecipherable writing on it sitting beside. 

“It felt necessary,” was all Steve said as he closed the doors to the gallery.

Billy turned to consider him, his gaze sliding over Steve in that calculating way that left Steve itching to move. It took him two strides and he was standing chest to chest with Steve. 

Steve hadn’t noticed, but Billy was just a little shorter than him, he had seemed larger than life before. Billy gazed up at him through his lashes, before his hand snaked through Steve’s hair and that’s where Steve’s control ended. 

He grasped the curls as their lips met, a tongue swiping for entrance. He felt consumed from the inside out. Billy was heat and tongue and everything, he was grabbing Steve everywhere, pushing him until steve’s back met a wall. Steve groaned as BIlly’s lips left him and moved to his neck. 

“Been thinking about you all week, pretty boy,” Billy said against his neck, sucking at Steve’s pulse point. He nipped at Steve’s neck, and Steve knew without a doubt that he’d have far too many bites to count in the morning. 

Steve grabbed wherever he could, his hands sliding over the leather-clad shoulders, dipping past Billy’s collar to feel bare skin again his, “I thought about you too.” he confessed, gasping as BIlly’s hand found his covered cock.

“Oh? Did you think of me as you came?” Billy whispered in his ear.HIs hand gripping Steve’s cock as he moved his hand. 

Steve’s head fell back against the wall as he nodded, “yes. Yes.” he groaned. 

“That’s what I like to hear,” Billy said as he slid down to his knees, and Steve watched in amazement as Billy undid his pants. His hands pulling Steve out of his underwear. Billy gazed at his cock like a kid in a candy shop and try as he might, Steve tried to watch but when Billy swallowed him down he almost went weak at the knees. It was all he could do to stand up straight. 

Billy’s mouth was too warm and it had been too long since Steve had felt this. It wasn’t long until Steve was tugging at Billy’s hair, wordlessly warning him. And as Billy swallowed everything, Steve just about lost it again. 

Billy stood, wiping his mouth on his hand. He grinned at Steve, his shark-like grin back, “that what you dreamed off?” 

Steve stared at him, not able to find words just yet. 

Billy leaned in closer, his mouth hovering just over Steve’s ear, “find yourself wanting more? Give me a call, pretty boy?” then he nipped at Steve’s ear before turning around and leaving the gallery. 

Steve watching him go, trying to piece together all that had happened. 

He was so fucked. 

#billy hargrove #harringrove #steve Harrington

[dustedmagazine]

Listed: The Black Watch

The Black Watch plays jangly power pop with a psychedelic haze. Its sole continuous member, songwriter John Andrew Fredrick, has made 18 Black Watch albums so far, full of gem-like, oddball songs that evoke Teenage Fanclub and the Bevis Frond. Of the latest, Brilliant Failures, Jennifer Kelly wrote, “If you like smart lyrics tossed casually over the shoulder, exquisite melodies blurred and buried under guitar wail, ephemeral pop pleasures that latch on stubbornly and enduringly in your ear, you’ll probably like The Black Watch.”

The Beatles—Revolver

To start at the start, my love for The Beatles simply can’t be overestimated/understated. If their almighty double album evinces in a “writ large” way just how ambitious (and with what astonishing range) the Fabs could be, Revolver is also a record that simply has everything: rocking, bouncing-jolly songs; a stringsy storytelling session; peppy horns for pumped-up people; a drone to die for (those “Indian” whoops!); and my favorite song of all time (And Your Bird Can Sing). Gone is the mystery behind most bands that we so very cherished/lived for in the 60s as kids. How we’d simply kill for any tidbits of info on J, P, G, & R. It’s a rare day that I don’t listen to The Beatles. I was lunching with band mate (and lead guitarist) Andy Creighton (who fronts his own wonderful band, The World Record) and our mutual friend Ben Eshbach from The Sugarplastic and Ben said: “Whenever someone dismisses The Beatles in some highfalutin way, I always think it’s mere posturing.” Truer words, sir. Truer words.

My Bloody Valentine—Isn’t Anything

When I first relocated to Los Angeles from Santa Barbara I got a job as an assistant editor at a paper that, quixotically, was trying to compete with the LA Weekly. The Relativity label was really good about sending me cassettes (!!!!) of “alt” bands. So in ’88 came a tape that changed my life nearly as much as The Beatles had done when I was a kid. Loveless has its proper apologists for greatest-shoegaze-LP-of-all-time but Isn’t Anything affects me more on account of—I think—it’s about the mystery (there’s that word again) of sex. I could not believe the news when I was told that MBV were playing the Club Lingerie. I think there were eleven or twelve people there—not many more. Old chum Craig Costigan was at that show with me (as well as The Lucy Show’s Santa Barbara debut—which made me form my band), as was then-band mate J’Anna Jacoby and future band mate Steven Schayer. The Valentines were so mind-blowing I can’t even tell you. Having lived in LA so long now, I’m never ever starstruck, but I remember just gawking at this Irish-English outfit. We went backstage just to look at those four heroes. This LP makes me crazy with happiness—and I still have it on cassette (for playing in the jeep).

Shelley—“Stanzas Written in Dejection, Near Naples”

Shelley’s my second favorite poet (top spot would go to T.S. Eliot) but this gorgeous lyric poem haunts me as it haunted me first time I read it in class as an undergrad at UCSB. Whenever I taught it in my poetry classes, I’m sure I waxed rhapsodic over it—much to the eye-rolling dismay or in some few cases delight of the students. Despite his uber-generous nature, Shelley seemed perpetually to find ways to F up his life and to occasion chaos (especially with the turnstile, as it were, of pretty women in his life) whithersoever he roamed. And roam he certainly did. I’ve myself sat on the shores round the bay of Naples; and the majestic beauty you find there doubtless induces a kind of melancholic state of mind, a la what you find in this incredible poem.

Stanley Kubrick—Barry Lyndon

Hands down my favorite film—by my favorite director. Have you not seen it? Oh, you’re in for such a treat. What an eye-banquet it is. Legendary stuff. Saw it in the theater in Goleta when it came out. And when I came out of that theater, I made plans to see it again the next day. Cue one’s obsessive-compulsive nature when it comes to great art. I really am the sort of person who can watch or listen to something I love again and again and again.

Echo and The Bunnymen—A Promise

The Bunnymen, along with The Lucy Show, were my greatest inspirations when we were starting out as the black watch. And to write a song like this—one that’s essentially one chord—is a veritable ambition to this day. The “cool” station in Santa Barbara, KTYD, played “Never Stop” from time to time, and that’s how I came upon these wonderful scousers. You try wearing a houndstooth greatcoat like Mac’s in summertime SB! It takes a heap of gumption and goofiness. But those were the days. Poseur days of callow alternative youth!

T.S. Eliot—Complete Poems and Plays

Wanna write above-average lyrics? Read as much Old Possum as you can. Despair that you’ll ever write half as well. Despair some more. Repeat. Rinse yourself of the literary influences you’ll never wash off. Repeat ad infinitum. Enjoy the silence and the majesty. See how I’m floundering to say anything worth noting? Impossibly powerful. Cue Wittgenstein’s observation about how whereof we cannot speak thereof we must not. No words. Eliot took them all. We’re just his flailing heirs.

Nabokov—Pale Fire

Here we have my favorite novel by my favorite novelist. And short story writer. Obsessively, I write on the first page of books the season/place I’ve read them in: I’ve read this book seventeen times now—in London, LA, Santa Barbara, New Zealand, Canada, and France. I love novelists who play games/tricks on the reader. My own humble works of comic fiction, admittedly, aren’t a patch on this towering giant of a book. One can but try! And never reach these heights. One of the wittiest, funniest, most puzzling-till-you-get-it books you’ll ever. Don’t wait till the world ends to read N’s masterpiece. Lolita—sure. But this thing? I mean, come on.

Justin Hayward and John Lodge—Blue Jays LP

Producer Rob Campanella and I often, while we’re tracking, take breaks to listen to The Moody Blues whom we love, love, love. They aren’t cool now and they weren’t cool when this side project first came out, but goddam if it didn’t get me through the music-snobby super-preppy high school I went to. Everyone was listening to Foghat or—I dunno—Zeppelin. Bellbottomy stuff with gobs of facial hair. I got laughed at for liking The Beach Boys too. Harken to the Harrisonian lead here by Justin Hayward (a very very under-rated guitarist); and oh the swooping-soaring strings. Gorgeousnessity. That’s not a word—and it shouldn’t be—but it fits.

The Black Watch—Brilliant Failures

I include this as I am a massive fan of what I do. Unabashedly. What’s the point of making something you’re not super into? I throw this in in order to point up how near the end of recording an album I almost always write one more song that becomes a single of sorts. I loved reading Robert Smith saying, “When I want to hear a great song, I write one.” He was—natch—winding up the press people and the punters, but he was also stating a truism: an artist makes something for him or herself. This eponymous song was the last one we tracked for the self-same LP. Rob went: “How in the world could you even think of leaving this off the LP, John!” And I said: “Well, I just wrote it last night. I always write a big fat catchy song after we think we’re done making the album.”

The Novels of Jean Rhys

Pick one. Any one. She’s addicting! Me, I’m in love with a dead woman!

#dusted magazine #listed #the black watch #john andrew fredrick #the beatles #my bloody valentine #percy bysshe shelly #stanley kubrick #echo and the bunnymen #t.s. eliot #vladimir nabokov #justin hayward #john lodge #jean rhys

[weirdochick56]

Mr. Evans- Chris Evans Au Chapter One

Teacher!Chris Evans x Student!Reader

Warnings: Explicit language. 

Disclaimers: I don’t own Chris Evans (FML, that’s why it’s shit tbh.)

Word Count: 1, 817 words

(Don’t skip it, or you won’t understand this chapter! 👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻)

Read Prologue Here!

***

Your heart felt just about ready to leave your chest. "M-my free period." It came out as more of a statement than what it was really meant to be- a question.

The corners of Mr. Evan's eyes crinkle when an amused grin spreads over his face. "Yes, Y/n, your free period."

You blush, blinking stupidly "Uh, why?"

He doesn't seem bothered by your general slowness to the situation. In fact, he seems overly amused by your reactions and takes it as an opportunity to tease you. "Because you're a horrible student"

You frown and bite your lip. And maybe, a message of God, you catch his eyes flicker to the lip caught between your teeth and his pupils dilate in the slightest. But just as quick as it came, it left, leaving you to question whether you were really seeing it or it was just your constant wishful thinking playing trick on your eyes.

You smile a bit at his teasing.

He shifts a bit and clears his throat.

“Y/n, you’re an extremely talented writer. Your last paper was...magnificent,” he breathes.

You blush, chuckling nervously at his praising words. “Hardly.” And you begin fiddling with your sweater’s sleeve.

“No,” his immediate answer forced you to snap your head up. “Your paper is beautiful. Like, actually truly amazing. You’re amazing.”

You swear you forgot how to breathe that exact moment. Your eyes are wide and you blink a couple of times, trying to get your mind to adjust on the fact that the most beautiful man you’d ever met actually thought you were amazing.

Wait. Why did he think you were amazing? Where did he even get the idea that you were amazing?

Now it was funny. Not because it was like, funny-funny, but because the thought that Mr. Evans thought you were amazing seemed like a far-off dream for the greatest time and now here it was; staring you in the face. It was quite comical.

You snort, ignoring the raised brow Mr. Evans sends at the unladylike gesture.

“Yeah, sure...”

He leans in his brows furrowed, eyes trained on your face. In search of something. almost like he was looking for a different reaction or maybe even a sign that you were joking.

When he saw that wasn’t your intention, he leans away, thick arms crossed over his firm chest. The man looks like a Goddam Michaelangelo sculpture.

He sighs. “Y/n. Your writing is some of the best I’ve seen.” He says it so seriously, it’s hard to accept the fact that maybe he’s lying.

Not to mention the man’s eyes were mesmerizing, breathtaking. You can’t exactly pinpoint what it is about them that attracts you so much. But the little green specks at the center of a beautiful shade of blue and they’re gentleness and seemingly everlasting understanding along with the ridiculously long eyelashes that encased them seemed like a safe bet.

“Beautiful,” you blurt in a breath after a moment of silently staring at eachother. With you lost in his eyes and he, you thought, trying to convey the honesty behind his words. After all, there was no way he’d just stare directly into your eyes without it being about that, right?

He frowns a little. “Huh?”

You immediately snap out of your daze, blushing. “Uh...nothing. I just meant...your uh, board it looks beautiful!” You point to the bulletin board behind his head and he glances back at it with the same confused frown.

You grip the edges of your sleeves harshly, pursing your lips. When he turns back around, he’s grinning. “You know, you’re the only one who’s ever said that.”

You sag, relief that he’d eaten the lie you’d fed, flooding you. “Uh, yeah. Very aesthetically pleasing. I like the pictures.” 

They were cut-outs of different things being held up by small pins. Famous musicians, works of literature, art. In fact, you were well-versed on most of the things he had on there. 

He chuckles a bit and you feel as light as a feather when the melodious sound reaches your ears. “I get a lot of the inspiration for books and paper topics I assign you guys from there.” 

“Huh, that’s actually pretty cool.” And you were being truthful. It wasn’t everyone who could stick to having such an extensive yet artistically appealing board.

“I guess so,” he shrugs lightly. “Anywho, we’re here to talk about you not me Y/n.”

You gulp, nodding slowly. 

“Right then, as I said; your writing is truly breathtaking. A-and your essays are wonderful too. But,” he pauses, looking at you with a cocked brow. “You’re always distracted in my class and,” he laughs a little. “I don’t know i-if you just have trouble listening to me babble on about works of literature o-or I’ve made you feel uncomfortable in some-”

“Lord, no!” you shake your head frantically. If only he knew him babbling on about works of literature is the highlight of my day.

He seems relieved as he scratches his beard lightly and you try not to shiver in delight at the view. His beard must tickle, you giggle absentmindedly. But then you remind yourself you mustn’t think such foolish things.

“Something bothering you?”

“N-no.”

“Then why are you anxious?”

You freeze, looking at him with wide eyes. “How d-did you...”

“You’re hard to miss, Y/n.” He grins a little. 

Okay, that’s it. Your heart is going to give out if you don’t get out of here soon.

With burning cheeks, you clear your throat. “Can I uh- why d-do you need me for my free periods, Mr. Evans? I mean, you said yourself, I’m a good student.”

He shakes his head. “And you are. At home. But when you’re here... I don’t know...You seem, off. And I want to work with you individually. Get to know the real you before we make a decision on how we can help you focus better in my class. We’ll discuss what’s distracting you, and prep you for college.” He smiles gently, his eyes trained on your fiddling hands and you notice his hand twitch. 

Almost like he wanted to reach out and touch you. Yep, you’ve lost it Y/n. Your wishful thinking has turned you straight up delusional.

He ends up dragging his hand slowly off his desk and letting it fall limply beside him. “Sound good?” 

You struggle to respond right away. It sounded like a great opportunity to get your grades up and be closer to your crush, but that was also the problem. The closer you were to him, the stronger your feelings got. You didn’t want to hold onto any foundationless hope. 

But then again, how could you say no to those eyes? And that face?

You sigh, “Okay.” 

***

“Wait. Hold the phone!” you friend, Margo, raises her perfectly-shaped brows, a small smirk on her face. 

“So, let me get this straight. You’re going to be spending all your free periods with Mr. Hottie, every day?”

You twirl your milkshake with a straw. “Well, technically not every day. We only go to school-"

“Yeah, yeah. I get it. No the point. You’re going to be alone, five days a week, for an entire forty minutes each day?” she blinks a few times, her big brown eyes wide with shock. 

You let out a small, quiet, exasperated sigh. “Yes, Margo, we’re-”

“And no one else will be around during that time?”

You slam your fork down briskly, starling your best friend. “Yes, Margo! We’re gonna be in a room, alone, for forty minutes every day for five fucking days every fucking week! Now, will you let it go?” Margo’s mouth is agape at your harsh growl, her hands held up defensively. 

“O-Okay, geez. No need to get aggressive! And did you just- did you just curse?”

You groan, burying your face in your arms. “That’s not the point Margo.” You raise your head, “I’m freaking out! I’ll end up spilling the beans about everything, feeling pressured by his constant presence. And he’ll think I’m an idiot and I’ll be so embarrassed I’ll be forced to move away with my family. And I can't because my dad has a really good job and my mom, she loved this place. I can’t possibly-” Just as you begin hyperventilating, Margo slaps your arm lightly.

“Y/n! Calm down. That’s not going to happen, trust me. And plus, what makes you think he doesn’t like you?”

You stare at her with a ‘really?’ face and scoff. “You’re kidding, right? There’s absolutely no way he would ever like me.”

“Why?” She says it so nonchalantly. As if the answer isn’t staring at her right in the face. Literally.

You look at her even more incredulously. “B-because Marge! I’m a child to him! I-I’m horrible in his class a-and-”

“And he stares at you when you aren’t looking. He complimented your writing, which bt-dubbs I’ve been telling you to show off for a while now. And now, he’s actively seeking to help you. Not you and Linda. Not you and Jason. You. Just Y/n and Mr. Evans alone in a room for-”

“Stop being ridiculous, Margo! There’s just no-”

“Y/n age is just a number.”

You slump forward, banging your head on the table repeatedly, your cheeks hot as coals. “Can you just not, Margo? Stop giving me false hope, it-”

“But I’m not! Everything I’m saying is true. What makes you think you could never be enough for him?” you perk up at that.

You huff lightly. “I don’t know. Maybe the fact that the man looks better than a young Paul Mounet! And I’m a friggin potato with facial features!” you gesture wildly to your face. 

Margo shakes her head and her bouncy black curls follow her movements. “Okay, don’t know who that is, but that’s beside the point. Y/n, you’re gorgeous.”

You straight up laugh at her. “French actor? Early 1900′s?”

“Y/n.”

“Fine. I don’t know where you see that, but fine.” you shrug, sipping on our milkshake. 

“Do you even hear yourself? Do you really think that low of yourself? You’re-”

“Messed up? Yeah.” 

Margo sighs, shaking her head, but doesn’t say anything else. She’d been your friend for three years and a half. Bubbly and popular, she was the exact opposite of you, but somehow, you’d ended up being the best of friends.

She was a short, dark-skinned girl with a curvy shape and no shame in it. She always said “real women have curves” whenever someone made a rude remark. You admired her strength and overall confidence. You could never pull off the way she dressed and acted even if you wanted. 

“Hey, are you sure Mr. Evans isn’t staring at you when we walk by?” You’re more curious by her earlier remark that you’d like to admit.

Margo snorts, sending you a knowing look. You blush. “Girl, if I’ve ever seen a man look at a woman, it’s Mr. Evans looking at you. And it certainly isn’t me he’s looking at. Trust me on that.” You hum, unconvinced. 

“When do you have to see him anyways?”

“Tomorrow, last period,” you can’t help but feel a bit excited. Because despite thinking it a catastrophic notion, being near him was-

“Oh! Yes, honey! You’re going to get the best period with him!” she rubs her hands excitedly. 

You bite your lip, suppressing a smile. 

“I sure am.”

God, this was a very bad idea.

So why did it feel so right?

Read Chapter Two Here!!

***

I know this is absolute crap and all over the place, and I’m sorry but I think the mucus clogging my airways has now made its way up to my brain and has taken my neurons captive.

*Sigh*

Anywho, as always send me feedback (please do) reply, send requests, asks, messages, whatever you please! (I’ll try to respond the best I can from above a pile of used kleenex tissues)

A special thanks to:

@bombsandsparkles @meowsekai @godohammers @sp2900  @weirdvishy -my lovely “Mr. Evans” humans

And of course my forevers!

@jessikared97 @sherlockedtash88 @lilypalmer1987

(Don’t hesitate to tell me if you want to be tagged.)

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans one shot #mcu #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagines #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers aesthetic #chris evans aesthetic #avengers #infinity war

[punk-is-notdead]

Fic title: Voice of an Angel, by tfw_cas

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Castiel (Supernatural) Dean Winchester Sam Winchester Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss Castiel/Dean Winchester First Time Masturbation Hand Jobs Blow Jobs Shower Sex Dean's Top 13 Zepp Traxx Mixtape Porn With Plot Gratuitous Smut Fluff

Summary: Dean singing in the shower is the most beautiful thing Castiel has ever heard, and he cannot stop himself from listening and fantasising every time. When he gets caught their relationship changes for ever.

AO3

Written for the Destiel & Cockles Sentence Monthly Challenge 

Part 1 of the Voice of an Angel? series

Prompt: Cas discovers Dean's penchant for singing in the shower. 

As he walked down the hallway in the bunker Cas heard music coming from the direction of the shower room. Well… it wasn't music, so much as singing and, yes, it was Dean's voice. He would recognise it anywhere. He was singing a song Cas knew well; The Battle of Evermore, by Led Zeppelin. It was one of those on the repeatedly-listened-to mixtape belonging to the angel, with a label bearing the legend ‘Dean's top 13 Zepp traxx’. It was also absolutely the most cherished possession he owned - even more so since the hunter had made its significance clear by refusing to take it back, saying ‘it's a gift. You keep those.’

He stopped walking and revelled in the sweet melody; letting it wash over him, allowing it to cause an interesting reaction through his body. What he wouldn't give to be under the water with Dean right now, holding him, caressing him, helping to wash that beautiful body… Oh, this is so wrong. Cas rushed away to his room, to deal with his situation hurriedly and messily. Whispering the most important word he knew - Dean - he achieved satisfaction. Panting, he lamented - not for the first time - that his sexual encounters with Dean were merely fantasies and that they could never be real.

Without even realising it, Cas started to find himself lurking near the shower room every time Dean was inside. It was a different song each time and he would listen to that wonderful voice, then rush back to his room with images in his mind. Images that he would store away for later; for his pleasure. Cas knew he should not keep doing this, but he could not help himself, and what harm was it doing, anyway?

The fourth time this happened, Sam appeared in front of him in the hallway. It was too late for Cas to hide, or invent an explanation for why he was just standing there, so he smiled as innocently as he could manage. “Hello Sam.”

“Hey Cas. What's up?” The younger Winchester looked at him curiously.

Does he know why I’m here? Cas was alarmed at the thought that Sam might know what he had been doing. What if he tells Dean? “Nothing. I was… listening to the music.”

Sam looked very confused then. “Music? The only ‘music’ I can hear is Dean singing.” Yes, Sam did do the air quotes.

“Yes, isn't it beautiful?” Cas had a blissful expression on his face, as Sam shook his head in disagreement.

“Dude. Dean is tone deaf. His singing is awful, man.”

“Sam, you are wrong. He has the voice of an angel. It touches me inside.”

“Ew, that's gross Cas. I did not want to know that.” Sam looked truly disgusted at the thought and started to leave. Before he could get away, though, they heard Dean call from the showers.

“Hey. What’s going on out there? Are you two arguing?”

Before Cas could even open his mouth Sam shouted back. “Yeah. Cas thinks you have the voice of an angel, and I told him your singing sucks.”

Cas was frozen to the spot, as Sam laughed heartily. “I’m leaving before he dumps a bucket of water over me.” He tossed his hair and walked away, leaving Cas to deal with the consequences of Dean’s discovery.

A moment later, Dean came out from the shower room with only a towel wrapped around his waist. Water dripped down his face, over his body, and onto the floor. Cas was completely transfixed by the vision in front of him and he was unaware that his eyes had widened or that his breath was coming out in short pants. The hunter noticed immediately, however, and walked quickly over to him; invading his personal space.

“So Cas… you like my singing, huh?” Unable to speak, the angel nodded and swallowed thickly.

Gently mimicking him, Dean nodded back, and smiled shyly. “Do-do you think you might need a shower, Cas? I think you’re a little dirty.”

Cas blinked a couple of times as his brain tried to register what Dean had just said. Did he mean what I think he meant? “Is that a flirtation?”

“Do… you want it to be?”

What, were they only speaking in questions now? Cas decided that it was time for him to act. Grabbing hold of Dean’s towel, he pulled him forwards, until their chests were touching. Looking Dean straight in the eyes he growled. “Don’t ask stupid questions.”

Before the hunter could reply, Castiel crushed their lips together. The kiss was hard and passionate; all teeth and tongues, and gorgeous lips that moved against his perfectly. The hunter made a kind of purring sound and - oh Chuck - Cas’s body responded in a way he had not experienced before. He found himself grinding his hips into Dean’s, Dean gasped, and the angel took the opportunity to plunge his tongue into the man’s mouth. Tasting him, feeling him - it was almost too much - especially as he was grinding right back, with just as much enthusiasm.

“D-Dean, I think I am going to-”

“No no, not yet.” Dean drew back slightly, panting. “C’mon Cas, shower.”  

Fuck the shower. Cas tried to pull the man back towards him and finish what they had started right there. But Dean was insistent. “Sam won't disturb us in there.”

Taking hold of his hand, Dean led Castiel into the steam-filled room. He was just as impatient as the angel, grabbing roughly at the trench coat before throwing it in a corner. Dean made quick work of the rest of the clothes too, until Cas stood in front of him naked and a little shy. He paused to take in the glorious sight before him.

“Cas… god.” He drew in a shaky breath and Castiel captured his mouth again; smashing their lips together with hunger and want. As they kissed, he backed Dean up against the shower wall and pinned him against the tiles with his body, then began to slowly roll their hips together. Dean tried to switch the shower on, but it was difficult when Cas was all over him like that. Eventually, he managed to reach over far enough and the water began to beat down on them relentlessly. As they explored each other in wonder, Cas started pulling Dean’s hair softly before running his hands down the sides of his neck and onto his chest. He was a work of art and Cas wanted to admire every inch of him. When his hands wandered lower, Dean broke off the kiss and groaned.

“Fuck Cas. Where’d you learn how to do that?”

Cas’s hand had reached Dean’s cock, and he had begun to stroke it. “You mean this?”

“Y-yeah. Ahhhh… all of it. The kiss-“ Dean trailed off as the strokes sped up. Cas planted little kisses over his neck and chest; then moved down to his nipple and flicked it with his tongue.

Dean bucked his hips forward and cried out. “Jesus. Fuck, Cas… I’m-” The rest of what he said turned into incoherent babbling, as Cas - somehow expertly - brought him to the best goddam orgasm he had ever had. The hot liquid spilled over Cas’s hand, as the angel continued to jerk him until he was spent. As his eyes came back into focus, Dean found that Castiel was watching him intently and he suddenly felt very exposed.

“What? Why are you staring at me like that?”

“I wanted to watch you in your most intimate moment. You are so beautiful, Dean.”

Sap. Dean became aware that Cas was still in need of release - despite the constant grinding - and he flipped their positions so that the angel was now against the wall. He dropped to his knees and kissed the tip of Cas’ dick, before he gave it a little lick. The noise Castiel made at this was positively sinful, and very encouraging, so he moved forward slightly and took it into his mouth.

“Dean!” Cas cried out, and this just spurred the man on. He reached around and placed his hands on Cas’ ass cheeks, then started to bob his head - taking as much of the cock into his mouth as he could; swirling his tongue along the shaft and around the head.

“DeanDean… fuck.” The angel’s cries were getting louder and Dean could see him scrabbling his hands on the tiles, trying to grab hold of something. The hunter took the angel's hands and placed them on his head. As Castiel pulled at Dean’s hair, their eyes locked again and the hunter realised now why Cas wanted to look at him while he came. Watching your lover’s face as they fell apart was a fucking big turn-on.

Castiel continued to cry out - Jesus, he’s loud - and his breathing became ragged as he approached his release. The pulls on Dean’s hair became rougher and the angel couldn’t help thrusting into that warm, velvety mouth. But Dean carried on and was rewarded with the salty, bitter liquid spilling down his throat as Cas came with a shout. “Dean! Shitfuck!” Dear Lord - Cas screaming obscenities as he orgasmed was hot as fuck.

They stayed like that until Cas started to become over-sensitive, then he pulled Dean back to his feet and kissed him softly. When they broke apart, Dean shook his head with an incredulous look on his face.

“You’ve got a filthy mouth, Cas. You know that? I kinda like it though.”

Cas chuckled. “I think it is you who has the filthy mouth, Dean. What you just did…” He looked earnestly into Dean’s face. “I-I hope we can do it again.”

“Yeah. That, and… other stuff. I wanna make you sing for me again.” Dean’s voice became breathy at the thought of what they might do.

“That was not singing Dean.” Cas looked very confused.

“Well, it was music to my ears.” Now who’s the sap?

Whatever happened, it was guaranteed that they would be making sweet music together again.

#destiel fanfic #destiel #fanfic #supernatural #i wrote a thing

[evakfanficsrecs]

EVAK FANFICS RECS / PART 4

ONESHOTS:

I’ll take you as you are by Behindthecities Summary: Even can’t sleep so Isak draw’s him a bath.

One More Second by kosekardemomme Summary: Isak invites the boys over to hang out with Even, for the first time with just them, just after Christmas. “Evak” can’t keep their hands off each other, though.

isak x even | dance so good by BloonStuff Summary: When Isak happens upon Even out of bed in the first time in a few days, he decides to make the most of the moment. 

MORE UNDER THE CUT

Steal Your Heart by alijan ★ Summary: An AU story of how Isak and Even met through Isak’s friends. Or, more specifically, a AU story of how Even chases after Isak and he lets himself be caught.

Strange Encounters by midnightsurge Summary: Standing at his sink is what looks to be an angel; with soft blond hair glowing under the bathroom lights and eyes as blue as the sky, Isak wonders if he actually fell back asleep and is still dreaming. “Hi,” the angel smiles at him, laughter lines crinkling his face. “Sorry about that, I thought everyone was still sleeping.” “Um,” Isak repeats intelligently. “You’re…” he trails off, not sure what his question should actually be. Pretty? Gorgeous? A stranger? A stranger standing in his bathroom very early in the morning and shouldn’t Isak maybe be reaching for his phone right about now? “Even,” the blond stranger now named Even greets him with a grin, moving forward to shake his hand. Or, Isak and Even are students at the University of Oslo. They meet under strange circumstances and it’s all Eskild’s fault.

The Hot Muffin Thief by Bellakitse ★ Summary: There is a magical muffin at the café where Isak’s buddy Jonas works. It’s Isak’s lifeline, he has it every day and then one day some hot art hipster steals his muffin.

carry my love to you by retts Summary: Even grasped the top of the duvet and dragged it over his shoulders, snuggling into the pillow. His eyes were closed as he let out a soft sigh. Isak brushed back the fringe falling across his forehead, ran his fingers through the hair behind his ear. He wanted to erase the bruises under Even’s eyes, kiss away the inexplicable sadness lingering on the corners of his mouth. If only it were that easy. Set directly after ep 9, Fredag.

flickered in my mind for only you by DarkBeauty_890 Summary: soulmates!au; But even the lonely nights hearing his mom cry for his dad couldn’t stop Isak from tracing the words (looped, like maybe his soul mate was an artist or a writer) etched permanently onto his skin. He sat huddled under the covers for hours, flashlight illuminating the darkened space, allowing Isak to wonder who they would be. His soulmate.

where you can be reborn by tomlinsoln Summary: Even makes Isak feel like himself, and Isak doesn’t care about the rest.

True or False by iriswests ★ Summary: childhood best friends!au; Seven moments between Isak and Even (+1 with Sonja), ranging from the ages of four and six to the ages of seventeen and nineteen, respectively.

Afternoon Kisses by DickAnderton ★ Summary: What could have happened during the cuddle scene if Isak and Even had been ready for more.

And If In That Moment by allyasavedtheday ★ Summary: Isak rolls his eyes and reaches for his beer again. Even’s teasing always feels different to his friends teasing him. Even’s teasing feels a lot like flirting. “Anyway back to Emma.” Fuck. “Why isn’t she your type?” Isak considers his options, considers a single conceivable reason why a straight seventeen-year-old boy wouldn’t like a girl like Emma. He can’t fucking think of a reason and it makes him panic but he’s also just- tired. So fucking tired of having to constantly lie about why he feels the way he does. So he settles on as close to the truth as he can get. “She just- I guess it’s never felt right.” *Or, what would’ve happened if Isak and Even had had the Halloween pregame alone like they had originally planned.

your eyes hold oceans by prettyboylou Summary: isak is everything even can think about. in every little corner of his brain, every single thought is isak and while that is partly crazy, even does not mind at all.

won’t you be my livewire by itjustkindahappened ★ Summary: It’s 1:54 in the afternoon on a gloomy Tuesday when an angel enters Even’s classroom. (alternatively, “i’ve been tryin to grab your attention in class for over half an hour by poking you and throwing things onto your desk and you’re refusing to acknowledge me and gdi all i wanted to do was tell you that you look cute and now it’s gone too far and i can’t go back”)

Now, Panic and Freak Out by dropdeadfox Summary: The thing is, Isak Valtersen is absolutely not gay. Like, really, really, really not gay. Okay, he may or may not feel butterflies in his stomach whenever he sees a certain third year across the school yard. A handsome and certainly very male third year. And he may or may not wish that said third year will sit beside him at the cafeteria, holding his hand under the table or pushing his hair back with those adorably long fingers, because he is certainly, absolutely, 100% sure that he is Not Gay.

And then our time will come. Over and over again. by UniversalParadox_13 Summary: “In my opinion, all the Isaks and Evens don’t gyrate in their universes under the same terms. While some Isaks and Evens have already met, others are in the process of doing so right now or are still waiting for it to happen, for them to meet.” “But, they do eventually meet?” He knew what it meant, when Even squeezed his hand a bit tighter. “Always.” Isak believed it with every fibre of his body and soul. “They always meet.” (Parallel Universes AU or 5 times Isak and Even meet each other by coincidence and know it is meant to be.)

Who Wants That Perfect Love Story Anyway? by mccolfer Summary: Six times someone from the girl group was maybe a little too involved in Isak and Even’s relationship and one time someone had no idea what was going on.

CHAPTERED:

The Nanny by allisonbucky Summary: Or, Even is a hot stressed dad of two little girls, and Isak becomes his nanny. Rom Com shenanigans ensue.

My Heart is Strong by photographer_of_thoughts ✓ Summary: His bipolar disorder made him want everything to be a great tragedy, a Baz Luhrmann film; because how else did things have meaning? His brain told him that time and time again. He’d lost track of how many people he’d let go because he wanted to “lose them forever” and subsequently keep them forever; tucked away into the memory palace in his brain… But he didn’t want that anymore. As soon as he’d kissed Isak he knew he wanted to be better this time. Or, Isak and Even meet in a therapist’s waiting room.

Shut your whore mouth, Even. This is not the Fault in Our Stars by Masterless ★ ✓ Summary: Even can remember the flare of pain in his chest and his head, the tightness in his throat, and the taste of pennies on his tongue. He remembers Sonja’s hands grasping his arm tightly as he leaned against the wall of lockers in the school hallway. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t feel the tips of his fingers. Black dots swam in front of his eyes, the world tilted, and everything went dark. Just Sonja’s frightened voice rang out in that darkness, repeating his name, calling for help. Then, there was nothing.

The Comments Below by DickAnderton ★ ✓ Summary: youtubers!au; Isak is a notoriously lazy gamer living with lgbt icon Eskild. When they invite youtube sensation Even Bech Naesheim over for a collaboration, #Evak is born. But it is not only their viewers who are falling in love.

That’s Not My Name by cuteandtwisted ★ ✓ Summary: one-night stand!au; “Isak.” Even smiled, then licked his lips. “Wanna go back to my place?” - aka: Isak is an exchange student in new york city where he meets a very forward and bewitching Even. 

juste la fin du monde by loglady95  Summary: Sana blackmailed Isak into hosting a party at his place and gave his number to a stranger.

You say good morning when it’s midnight by Aceteroid ✓ Summary: It sucks, when your best friend is on a student exchange at the other end of the world for three months. It sucks even more, when you fall in love with the step-brother of his exchange student.

Masters of Communication by rumpelsnorcack ✓ Summary: Even was such a goddam dork, Isak thought fondly. But he was his dork, and Isak couldn’t imagine anyone better to have a scary adult conversation with. Or, a 5+1 in which Isak and Even find it hard to communicate, but then manage to do it really well.

44 Days by NovemberRose ✓ Summary: How Even and Isak spent 42 days apart and a weekend in the mountains brings them back together.

How In My Silence I Adored You by dahlstrom ★ ✓ Summary: In a parallel universe, the rest of the boy squad actually shows up at the first kosegruppa meeting and Isak stays for the love games. Thus, his first interaction with Even is quite different (no paper towels were harmed in this scenario). Also heavily hints at Vilde/Eva.

all of me, you take now by xxLeviBech Summary: Strings of oneshots featuring two boys that are obsessed with each other.

cold hands by salmonpanties Summary: monday 11.40: Isak lifted his gaze, and he saw an angel in front of him. Blond hair, blue eyes, fair skin, a stunning smile; quite the description of an angel - except, he was in the cafeteria of Nissen Gymnasium, sitting with his friends, eating buns. - Isak knew he liked boys a little bit more than he probably should, but it’s nothing he flaunts. Just because he’s not that interested in girls it doesn’t mean that he’s a homo, right? But then he meets Even, who’s beautiful, mysterious and exciting. And maybe Even is just the boy Isak has been waiting for? But it doesn’t mean that he’s a homo.

(★ - personal favorites | ✓ - completed fics)

#even bech næsheim #isak valtersen #evak #even x isak #isak x even #evak fanfiction #evak fanfics #evak fanfics recommendation #skam #skam fanfiction #masterposts

[unfuck-it]

Literal work of art. Not just because you're beautiful. Because you touch people's lives and add character to every room you enter. Because you mean something. To the people in your life. You are extraordinary, one of a kind, and yes. Extremely goddammed gorgeous

this is so nice oh my god thank you so much

[lindaeckhardt]

New Post has been published on Everybody Eats News

New Post has been published on https://everybodyeatsnews.com/2020/04/feeding-yourself-under-quarantine/

Feeding Yourself Under Quarantine

It feels a bit like I always imagine being sentenced to prison might be. With freedom and choice removed, what’s left?  You are advised to stay at home.  You are encouraged to sanitize the groceries when you get them in the kitchen.  Why?  All to save us from the CoronaVirus.

Well,  I can tell you this.  The whole thing has taken my appetite away.  I don’t care about food much these days.  I just eat to stay alive. But drinking?  That’s another matter. And my drink of choice has always been iced tea. In fact,I’m rather a master at making iced tea.

And while I usually spend at least part of every day working on new recipes,  new ideas, and preparing meals for friends in the evening,  now that’s all been taken away from me.  So what’s my response?  No one is invited in.  I’m not invited out.  Crap. I hate this.

I no longer observe the three squares a day.  I just don’t care.  Today, I finally remembered to eat the first meal of the day about noon.  I made a pot of black coffee,  I made a dish of oatmeal in the microwave.  It’s all I wanted.  I thought about putting raisins in the oatmeal, but then I thought, why bother? And then I wondered if the microwave might kill viruses.  Checked it on the internet. Sorry.  No such luck.

Even my dogs are suffering.  I usually make some gorgeous dish that I can share with the pooches,  but now?  Not so much.  And I can tell you that they are damn sick and tired of dry dog food.

I stepped on the scale and see the only upside to this.  I’ve lost about 7 pounds.  And in only a couple weeks that this quarantine has been going on. And I can see from the looks of the dogs, that they’re losing a little weight too.  So, I suppose that’s one good result of this new era.

But damn it,  I don’t like it. In fact I hate it.  I am mad as hell and I’m not getting over it.

For my so-called lunch,  I just ate an apple.  It wasn’t very good, and I didn’t really care.  I just ate it to stay alive.

In fact, this is worse than being in prison.  At least those sentences have a beginning, a middle and an end.  This has no such boundaries.  I hear times ranging from a month to a year,  or to years, plural.  No one seems to be able to nail it down any closer than that.

But I will tell you this.  I didn’t live 80 years to get felled by some goddam virus.  I will stay in this house, I will not expose myself to the virus.  I will do everything in my power never to get it.  Because from everything I read, the disease itself is deadly,  a sort of drowning in your own juices.  No thank you.  I have no hesitation to keep sequestered.  I don’t want any part of it.

Today, the Prime Minister of England,  Boris Johnson, who was diagnosed with the virus only a couple days ago,  was moved from the hospital to the ICU.  Holy crap. The man is on the verge of death.  This is terrible.  Truly terrible.  And right under the piece about Johnson is a headline that reads:  Trudeau will work from home.  Yikes.  Him too.

The fucking world is fucking falling apart.  I think I’ll make a pot of coffee. But even the coffee doesn’t taste good.

And maybe watch a little television.  I wonder what’s on the middle of the day?  Hmm.  How about A&E.  That might have some uplifting show.  Not so.  It’s a couple cops pulling over some girl who was speeding.  Is this what people watch?  It’s not art and its not entertainment.  What has the world come to?

So I take a closer look at the Highway Patrolman in the film. He’s tall, and dapper and neat in his Uniform.  Yes, that would be a capital U in Uniform.  And he’s saying,  I clocked you at 110, Ma’am.  And we’ll have to wait for the boy’s mother to get here to take him away.  And then he stands up staring into the middle distance.  He is mighty handsome. Then he walks to the back of the car and opens the trunk.  He paws through the stuff and pulls out a kid’s stuffed bear.  He takes it back up to the passenger side door and hesitantly holds it into the window.  An invisible hand grabs it and it’s gone. I change the channel.

I have an idea. I think I”ll choose a nice  clean wall in my office and start marking off the days.  As I say,  it’s been a couple weeks.  Maybe memorializing this event by marking off the days will give this term its due.  So I’ll start off with fourteen days,  you remember how they show this in the cartoons,  5 long vertical horizontal  lines, demarcated by an angular line going from left to right, top to bottom.  No.  That can’t be right.  That would only add up to SIX.  Shit.  I don’t even now how to make a goddam prisoner’s calendar.

Must be time to make my first Teatini of the day.  Now the teatini is an invention of mine that I feel will assure my place in history.  It’s way better than any cup of black coffee.  I start off in the morning by making a pitcher of sun tea.  I only use the very best quality  black tea, Liptons tea bags to be exact,   cold tap water, and a clear glass pitcher. I make a knot in the tea bags then hang that out the pitcher’s lip.  Add cold water,  tea bags, cover it and let it stand in the kitchen window to take in the warmth of the morning sun.

At first,  I made my  teatini about 5 in the afternoon.  It’s the very simplest of cocktails.  That tall glass filled with ice cubes, then the iced tea, then a generous splash  of bourbon on the top. Garnish with a sprig of lime.   Let it steep to release all those complex flavors, then sip to enjoy. Now that is a wonderful cocktail.

But as this quarantine has continued,  I’ve decided to call the new cocktail the Quarantini and I am now making the first one about 1 in the afternoon.  Quarantinis make those long afternoons go by with very few bumps in the road.  And I learned today that the liquor store delivers,  so I won’t have to expose myself to all those viruses between here and the liquor store ever again.

It says in the New York Times today that New Yorkers will soon have the pleasure of visiting their newly departed in graves being dug in Central Park.  Ten bodies in a row to the grave, and how many graves to go, as yet undetermined.  But at least the New Yorkers can get a nice walk in the sunshine on their way to say goodbye to Uncle Sam.

Maybe I’ll make a traveling Quarantini in one of the kid’s old plastic camping bottles still stored in the attic.  That will give the afternoon stroll some purpose and some ease.  I will have to make a couple sandwiches to fortify myself on these forays since all the restaurants in New York City are closed.  Peanut butter and pickle sandwiches on white bread have always been my faves.  I’ll bet those washed down with a Quarantini might make a lovely  afternoon repast. Should I cut the crusts off the bread?  Certainly.  Then I can feed the bread crusts to the birds I see in the park. And that makes me feel noble for caring for the least of these.

Oh I hope its a sunny day.

And what shall I plan for tomorrow?  Oh I don’t know.  Probably the same old same old.

#The Coronavirus comes home

[thisislizheather]

Navigating November

Yes, it’s insane that November is already over, but we’re all aware of that and it’s so boring to talk about time moving quickly so let’s not be boring, let’s be wicked. So much has happened this month, here’s a breakdown of what went on in my world this month:

The West Village restaurant Dante has forever been on my list of places to eat at, so I finally went and it was great. The pasta wasn’t as good as it is at L’Artusi, but that’s sort of an impossible demand. In any case, the food was good, the place is small & lovely, and the waiters are dreamboats.

I went to the movie theatre/bar/restaurant Syndicated in Brooklyn for the first time to see Michael Moore’s Fahrenheit 11/9 and both the place and the movie were great. I mean the movie’s pretty depressing, but obviously good. And the ticket was $8, which is amazing in 2018.

I ate at this great Mexican place Ofrenda twice so far, the quesadillas are so fucking light and good. Only con about the place is that it can get wildly loud inside.

I finished watching The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina and it was great and dark but I wish there were more scenes with Prudence & Nick since they’re such good characters. The mortals are so boring I could scream. Looking forward to the holiday special they’re airing in a few weeks.

Gary came to town! So we did a lot of new things while he was visiting. The best thing? The restaurant Le Relais De Venise L’Entrecôte. They only serve steak frites. With this incredible sauce. You sit down, order drinks, then they ask how you like your meat cooked and that’s it. They also come around halfway through the meal to offer you seconds… of both the meat AND the fries. It’s insanity. Honestly, I heard the premise of this place and thought that there’s no way the quality would be great, but I was dead wrong. Every bite was incredible. The place doesn’t look like much from the outside (it’s way too bright) and the service is a little… weird? But the food was amazing. And so reasonably priced. Definitely keeping this one in the rotation.

Finally ate at Parm in Soho for the first time - I had the eggplant (which was okay) and Gary had the chicken which was eons better. Get the chicken. The service was notably great too.

Tried the ice cream at Morgenstern’s and whooooa, it’s good. They’re not fucking around here. Love their weird flavours. French fry ice cream legit tastes like French fries. Eager to try the “bread” and “popcorn” flavours. And if you’re sitting there going, “How could any ice cream be bad, Liz? C’mon!” you’ve obviously never tried the terrible Van Leeuwan.

Went to the Nintendo store in Times Square, discovered that it’s one cute-ass store.

Went to the Top of the Rock for the first time, waaaaay better view up there than from the Empire State Building. Hands down. Plus you get a Central Park view that’s gorgeous as well as a city view.

Ate at Pil Pil on the Upper East Side: crazy good tapas. I always forget about tapas.

You already know how much I love Lady M cakes, so I tried their seasonal pumpkin nuage one and… meh! It’s nowhere as tasty as their banana chocolate slice.

Ate at Jacob’s Pickles on the Upper West Side finally and Jesus Christ the portion sizes here are laughably large. My brother got a poutine and maaaaaaan you gotta see this thing. And while everything tasted good, it’s just so wildly indulgent. And coming from a person who lives their life on the motto of “INDULGE, BITCH!” - this really means something. Probably not gonna make it back here a second time. It’s mayhem.

Finally watched Big Mouth after everyone on the planet told me to watch it and of course it’s good, you know this already, you don’t need me to tell you this. Jon Hamm as the voice of a scallop? Hilarious. Kristen Wiig as a vagina? Gimme more, I say! That goddam little ladybug? Best character. Flawless show. Maya Rudolph is my true queen and I hate anyone calling anyone their queen. (THERE’S ONE QUEEN GUYS AND SHE’S ENGLISH. SHOW SOME RESPECT.)

Visited the annual holiday miniature train show inside Grand Central station and it’s as beautiful as always. But really I dare you to show me a miniature train show I don’t like. It’s kind of a joke that they call this a “train show” when it’s, like, shoved in the back corner of a gift shop. Still lovely, but just funny.

There’s a new flavour (pumpkin gingersnap) of banana pudding at Magnolia Bakery and it AIN’T GOOD. Stick to the hits, guys. Gotta stick to the hits.

Went to the MoMA and it was great, haven’t been in so long, love the fact that they incorporated some performance art!

Had lunch at Del Frisco’s since Gary was in a wagyu mood & oh yes it was good.

Went for happy hour at Clinton Hall, where the prices are amazing for what you’re getting (I mean, Pat LaFrieda sliders for $3 is fucking nuts).

My dear friend Sarah moved back to France and I shouldn’t be shocked when anyone leaves New York, but it always stings when it’s one of the good ones.

Finally got my hands on the Cauliflower Gnocchi from Trader Joe’s and holy fuck I now understand why it’s ALWAYS SOLD OUT. Tastes exactly like regular gnocchi. No idea how Trader Joe’s can make these remarkable tasting products, so I’ll just assume that some sort of deal with the devil has been made.

If you are ever on the Upper East Side around dinnertime craving ravioli, I promise you that the Mezzelune Alla Boscaiola at Uva will eternally please you in a way that no human can. It’s a half moon shaped ravioli filled with prosciutto and mozzarella served in a creamy wild mushroom sauce. And it will forever be my favourite thing to eat in that area.

Don’t ask me why but I watched both Princess Diaries movies and OF COURSE THEY’RE TERRIBLE I KNEW THAT BEFORE PRESSING PLAY WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME.

I also watched Four Christmases and initially it seemed like it could’ve been an actually okay movie but NOPE. I mean, there are worse movies, don’t get me wrong. At the beginning, I really liked the fact that the couple in it had super strong opinions about marriage and kids and oh man, it would’ve been great if the ending was just “and we were right all along!” instead of them having a kid at the end. Am I projecting my own shit on this movie? Yes! Sue me!

Watched Rumor Has It and I don’t know if I was either feeling tired or defeated or what, but I think I liked it at the moment. I mean, Kevin Costner has a nice smile. All that needs to be said.

Tried the eyeliner from Elf Cosmetics and BOOOOOOOOOOOO, never again! What a piece of garbage!

Once in awhile, the Rainbow Room hosts a seasonal pop up bar on the 65th floor of 30 Rock in Rockefeller Center sooooo Nathan and I went this week and it was so, so great. The menu always changes and the dishes are wildly inventive and from what we tried - crazy delicious. We only got a charcuterie plate but there was this pâté that was almost… unholy? It was incredible. It was an insanely rainy night, so the view wasn’t much because of the clouds but that’s really only one more reason for us to return. The service was perfect and it wasn’t even that expensive.

For the past year or so, whenever I’m having a day where my face feels rougher than normal, I’ve been using this Vitamin E cream from The Body Shop at night that’s been working like a dream. I mostly just use it on my cheeks (moreso in the wintertime) and I wake up and have perfect skin again. It says that it’s used as a face sleep mask, but I don’t think you need to use that much, this one jar has lasted me forever since I use so little of it at a time.

So there’s this pesto that I’m in love with that they serve on a panini I love at Bite in the city and the owner told me why this pesto is so great: they use walnuts instead of pine nuts to make it. So obviously this is the only way that I’ll make pesto from now on. It’s so crazy good, you could eat it with a spoon if you have lunatic tendencies like I do apparently? IT’S SO GOOD.

Are you aware that you can recycle your used/empty makeup containers at Origins? I’m sure you’re already aware of the program that MAC does, but for every other brand? I feel like this is probably the best option. They have a little box in each store, and it’s not exactly policy but if you go in to recycle something, you can show them that you’re recycling something and then ask for a sample of something and they’ll definitely give you a crazy-generously sized portion of a product that you want to try as a sample. I just did this and got a huuuuuuge sample of this eye brightener I’ve been wanting to use. Also! They’ll give you a code after you recycle that you can use online to earn Origins points on your account.

Nathan was on the Guys We Fucked podcast this week which I think is pretty huge and great, so you can listen to that if you like.

And that was November! If you’ve missed any of the other months I’ve done (and actually care to hear the intricate details of a stranger’s life), here’s a list of what’s been discovered over the past few months! Hellooooooo December!

October Occurrences

September Shenanigans

August Actions

July Jiffs

June Jaunts

May Musings

#this is liz heather #Liz Heather #Origins #MAC #Elf cosmetics #makeup #Guys We Fucked podcast #Big Mouth #Netflix