Latest Posts by ilovebooks89 - Page 4

this might be a dumb thing to get worked up over and this text post ended up being WAY to long for a topic this stupid, but americans deciding to make a movie about eurovision, having it be written and directed by americans, casting an american and a canadian actor to play the lead roles of two icelandic musicians and having a few british actors as “european representation” and having them play russian and icelandic people is… so symbolic for how americans see other cultures.

I’ve seen americans (tumblr bloggers and celebrities) be passive aggressive about america not being in eurovision and acting like its specifically excluding them… despite there being multiple other continents who dont participate in esc.

and so these people see this phenomenon that many europeans seem to be passionate about and they see that they are not a part of it and then they get the idea that hey! this could be a movie! and who better to produce this movie than us americans. because we’re just better at that.

NOBODY ASKED FOR A EUROVISION MOVIE. MUCH LESS A EUROVISION MOVIE PRODUCED BY AMERICANS STARRING WILL FERRELL AS AN ICELANDIC PERSON.

This isn’t cultural appropriation in the sense of taking an idea from a marginalised community and passing it off as your own (although europe is not entirely “white/privileged” and includes many marginalised, ignored and looked down upon nations and ethnicities), but its still (white) americans thinking they get to make money off of a thing that wasnt their idea and that doesnt include them.

Yes, this is not a grave transgression, but it once again shows that americans think theyre better at telling stories than the people in these stories.

You could have had this movie written by a european. you could have cast actual icelandic singers. you could have used this opportunity to put the spotlight on more marginalised groups in europe. but you chose to have it all be done by americans. because you’re just better at it right?

Since people are getting into Hannibal again, I feel like this never got the attention it deserved.

So, you may remember the Christmas dinner scene from The Christmas Invasion in which Ten is wearing a lovely red hat.

And you may remember the part from The Time of the Doctor in which Clara is running down the stairs after she hears the sound of the TARDIS, and a wide shot then reveals this…

A red hat that blows into the shot on the breeze and settles gently upon the grass in front of the TARDIS, never to be seen again. Yeah. Because I needed more emotional pain.

That awkward moment when the BBC forgot they used you already

And this isn’t even everyone

Ummmm WHY WAS I JUST NOTIFIED ABOUT THIS?!?!?! WHY AREN’T PPL MAKING NOISE OVER THIS?!?!?!

for those who don’t want to watch the video it was basically saying they are trying hard for a season 3 but they need us to make noise on social media and rewatch the show this month! We got a 2 hour special out of the noise we made last time and the creator was basically saying if we care enough netflix will care enough so MAKE SOME NOISE CLUSTER!!!

i can’t talk shit about the pirates of the caribbean films as if elizabeth swann becoming pirate king didn’t hand my entire ass to me and make me the gay i am today

Colour Series with some sleepy boys.

David Tennant reads the bookshop scene from Good Omens during Playing in the Dark: Neil Gaiman and the BBC Symphony Orchestra.

Posting here to memorialise this even after the BBC takes it down from their website. Originally performed 12th Nov 2019 at the Barbican, London. 

…his Aziraphale voice is so delicate oh my word, I’m ready to offer my life savings and possibly a kidney in exchange for a full-length audiobook

Prince of Omens part 38

🤭

Next to parts up on my Patreon!

Simon & Baz

“I think I might kiss him. He’s right here. And his lips are hanging open (mouth breather) and his eyes are alive, alive, alive.”

― Rainbow Rowell, Carry On

first part // second part // third part // fourth part

au where peter is a quickly rising pop star and tony is an international music legend

this is my cheesy cliché-romantic prompt, please write it if you like this kind of stories, lol: Peter has had a crush on Tony since forever. He has confessed his love to Tony three times, and Peter has been rejected each time. The first one was when he was 10, the second one at 15, and the last one at 20. After so long, Peter decides to give up. He starts dating other people, trying to find love, then one day Tony reappears again into his life.

I’m so sorry this took so long! But I really hope it was worth the wait and that you enjoy it. This is in two parts because it ended up being way longer than I initially planned it. No smut in part one, but 90% of what Anon asked for happens in this chapter.

Prompts are always open <3

[P. 2]

Peter meets the love of his life aged ten, lounging in the grass of a local park and devouring the Chemistry book that Aunt May got him for Christmas. A pair of glossy combat boots stop right besides his pink lemonade, a figure casting a dark shadow over his book.

Peter looked up slowly, scowling at the interruption. How was he supposed to study hard and become a world famous scientist if people kept interrupting him? The boots give way to skinny black jeans that clung to legs longer than Peter could ever hope for his to grow. The legs faded into a black t-shirt sporting a cat playing the drums, and then to the prettiest face Peter had ever seen.

“Page 58 is wrong, y’know” the boy commented casually, hands tucked into his jean pockets. Peter’s scowl deepened, and he stared for a moment longer before furiously flicking through the pages. Page 58 turned out to be on metals and their chemical properties. Peter scanned it, before looking up again.

“It’s a professional science book. It can’t be wrong. And even if it was, how would you know?” He asked, reaching for his lemonade and sipping. The boy actually laughed, soft and amused before crouching down, elbows braced on his thighs. One long finger tapped a single paragraph on the page.

“The book claims Tungsten to be the strongest natural metal, and Chromium to be the hardest. Both of those are wrong. The worlds strongest and hardest metal is one in the same: Vibranium”.

Peter frowned a little, reading the paragraph quickly as the boy spoke. Vibranium? That sounded made up. And he’d never heard of it before.

“You’re just making that up” he pouted, pushing away the boy’s hand.  He chuckled again, low and soft and it made Peter’s tummy feel funny. All flippy, like he was on a rollercoaster.

“Am not” the boy shot back, teasing and mocking. Peter pouted harder, drawing his book closer. “Vibranium was discovered in the 1800′s, and is pretty much a secret outside of a select few Government organisations and my family; who have a big clump of it sitting in  secure storage facility out in Antarctica” the boy remarked. It was Peter’s turn to laugh, now.

“You’re a big, fat liar” he dismissed, then frowned. “Wait. I’m not supposed to be talking to strangers. Go away before Aunt May makes me do the laundry again” he huffed, looking back down at his book. He missed the soft smile the boy gave in response, and missed the scent of aftershave as the boy got up and walked away.

One week later, Peter was back at the park, sprawled out on the grass with several packs of snacks and his Chemistry book. He’d brought a notebook this time, jotting down notes and little doodles to help him remember things. There was a science expo next month, and he was determined to be super smart and science to impress the important scientists there.

Something thunked into the grass before him and rolled, all the way through the grass until it bumped into the edge of his Chemistry book. Peter eyed it warily. It was a metal ball, about the size of a ping-pong ball. Bright silver and it looked really shiny, like it had been polished. Peter looked up further, and saw the boy from last week strolling towards him.

He walked all the way up and sat down opposite Peter, long legs crossing in the grass. Peter watched him the entire time, hand still paused mid-sentence. The boy was wearing dark grey jeans today, and a white shirt with an AC/DC logo across the chest. His head tipped, and he watched Peter with a soft, curious expression.

“Half a pound of Vibranium. Super-forged and polished into a perfect sphere, just for you” the boy remarked, pulling a lollipop out of one pocket and peeling off the wrapped. Peter looked down and after a moment he put down his pen, reaching for it. It felt light, for its weight, and the metal was cold, perfectly smooth to the touch.

“This is probably just steel or something” he pointed out, and the boy shrugged, sucking the lolly with a wet sound.

“You can do whatever you want to that, and it won’t break, scratch or dent. The only thing that can damage Vibranium is more Vibranium” the boy tossed back, taking the sphere from Peter’s hand and tossing it up and down like a regular ball. “You could take a chainsaw to this thing and all you’d get is sparks”.

He tossed the ball back to Peter, and they spent the next two hours going through his Chemistry book together. The boy turned out to be called Tony, and he was super smart. He was turning twenty next month. Peter worried a bit about talking to someone that much older, but Tony was sweet and smart and helped him to take notes.

Tony’s phone went off a little while later, and he checked it before pulling a face and looking across at Peter. “Well, I gotta go. But try to scratch that thing. Let me know if you succeed” he grinned, ruffling Peter’s hair and standing. He was already walking away by the time Peter realised he had no way of letting Tony know either way, and he watched helplessly as Tony slipped into a sleek, black car on the sidewalk.

That night Peter attacked the ball with several kitchen knives. He threw it down the stairs. He tried to chew it. He tried everything he could within the house to damage it, but nothing worked. Eventually he gave up, sitting on his bed and staring in wonder at the still perfectly smooth ball before he snuck an egg cup from the kitchen and put it in pride of place on the middle of his shelf.

He went back to the park on Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday of the following week, but Tony didn’t show up.

Weiterlesen

I just realized they did their final salute just like they execute choreography

Taeyang just executes it flawlessly

GD does it in his own way while looking swaggy af

Daesung does it mostly perfectly while looking cute af

And TOP just dgaf ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

“Fake your death” They literally basically gave us their game plan and all of us were too busy crying to figure it out

“former emos” this “former emos” that yeah ok some of us have been emo this whole time

Me neither, Dan, me neither.

IM SORRY, DID MCR GET BACK TOGETHER OR ARE WE HAVING A COLLECTIVE FEVER DREAM OR AM I HALLUCINATING OR WHAT

concept: the year is 2034. i walk into work with coffee in hand. coworker is wearing cool shoelaces and i compliment them absentmindedly. they look me dead in the eye and say, “thanks, i stole them from the president.” scalding coffee leaks out of every one of my orifices and i hide in the bathroom convulsing for the rest of the day

if it was: part three

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Summary: Part three of the soulmate/enemy au based off of this post. Not as angsty as the last part thank goodness.

Words: 1800

Warnings: Someone has a panic attack (relatively mild)

I’d love to hear what you guys think :)

Fifth Year (ahhh!)

Simon

Baz is definitely plotting something. So far this year he’s been acting even more suspicious than usual. Sometimes I catch him staring at me really intensely in class, like he’s going to eat me or something. The way light catches in his dusty grey eyes, dark hair falling in his face, sends shivers down my spine, he looks so evil. 

I squint at him across the classroom. Maybe if I stare hard enough I’ll be able to figure out some clue to his plot. He taps his pencil and brushes his hair back, then looks at me and raises an eyebrow as if to say What’s you’re problem, Snow? I turn away. I check back a few minutes later and find him staring at me with that same hungry expression. I growl, frustrated, and shift restlessly in my seat. The end of class couldn’t come soon enough.

My classes have felt especially long today because today’s a special day. Today’s the day I’m going to ask out Agatha. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time, almost since I first met her, and now I’m actually going to do it. I just need to find the right moment.

______

Agatha

“Agatha!” I turn around and see Simon Snow hurrying towards me across the grass, his hair blowing in the slight breeze. My own long hair streams out to one side and tugs gently at my head, ethereally floating and twirling in the air as if asking to break free. I put my hands in my pockets and watch as he approaches. As he gets closer he slows and looks down at his feet. He looks nervous. Finally he stops in front of me, still looking at his feet.

“Agatha.”

“Yes?” I have a strange feeling I know what he’s going to ask me.

“I was wondering,” He rubs the back of his neck. “If you’d like to go out sometime.” He looks up, hopeful blue eyes shining in the late afternoon Autumn light.

“Like on a date.” He’s so boyish and expectant, I almost want to say yes. But I can already feel the usual panic welling up inside of me in a thick buzzing swarm. I try to shove it down but it’s like trying to stop the rising tide. My lip quivers and the pressure behind my eyes builds, and Simon’s still waiting for an answer.

“I- I’m sorry Simon. But no.”

“Oh. That’s okay.”

“It’s just,” All of the sudden I can feel hot tears on my cheeks, I can’t hold it back anymore. “You can’t know, don’t know what-” My voice breaks.

“Agatha, are you okay? Did I do something? I’m sorry.” He puts a hand on my shoulder. I step away.

“It’s just, I’m not like you. You couldn’t know but I can’t date you because I’m fake and I’m not right for anyone and, and-” Simon’s looking at me with this horrible confused expression on his face. I back away and then I’m running and running, hair whipping around and getting stuck to the wet skin on my face.

I can’t date Simon because I’m a freak. It doesn’t matter how pretty I am, how flawless my hair is, or how perfect my life seems to be because it all feels like a lie. When I look in the mirror I don’t see any of that. I see blank wrists and the helpless voice in my head that always seems to be shouting things that never leave my lips.

______

Baz

Classes have ended for the day and it’s the time when Snow usually hangs out with Bunce or Wellbelove, so I get our room to myself.  It’s liberating to be able to stretch out on my bed without having to put on any sort of show for Snow or anyone else. I glance around the room. Snow’s stuff is strewn everywhere. I’m tempted to take something and hide it under my pillow or whatever. Partially to spite Snow, partially because I’d just like to have something of his. Just to have. And maybe hold sometimes when the yearning, tearing feeling in my chest grows unbearable.

Moving as if in a trance, I find myself standing on Snow’s side of the room looking down at one of his ratty shirts. Slowly, hesitantly, I reach down and lift it up, handling it like it’s made of glass. Oh. It smells like him. Sweet and warm. I can’t resist, I bring it closer and I’m just pressing it to my face when the door swings open and Simon walks in. I freeze, heart in my throat.

______

Simon

Baz is standing there, clutching one of my shirts to his chest and holding the sleeve up to his nose (sniffing it??). I stare at him, shocked, and he stares back at me. Neither of us reacts for one long, uncomfortably drawn out moment and then we both start talking at once.

“What are you, um, why-”

“I was just, you see, Snow-" 

We both cut off abruptly. More silence. The shirt drops from Baz’s hands and I clear my throat. I didn’t think it was possible but Baz looks…flustered, caught off guard. Suddenly he strides smoothly across the room, brushing past me and out the door.

I walk over and carefully pick up the shirt he had been holding. It’s just a normal shirt. He probably spelled it with some sort of itching spell or something, that seems like him, and I caught him in the middle of it. That’s the only explanation for his reaction.

Holding the shirt as far from my body as possible, I place it in a corner of the room away from the rest of my clothes, then try to put it out of mind.

My laptop’s sitting on the bed. I have an essay due tomorrow that I haven’t even started on. I sigh and I try to flip open the screen but it won’t budge. I tug and attempt to dig my nails underneath the screen but it’s stuck to the base as if super-glued. I growl, it’s Baz. I know it. He’s spelled my laptop shut so that I’ll look like a fool when our essays are due. If I could only un-spell it…I think I remember Penny mentioning the counter spell at some point. 

Closing my eyes, I reach inside and try to draw the magic up. After a moment it fizzes under my skin, popping and buzzing and building up. It’s too much, like pouring an entire bag of Pop Rocks in your mouth all at once. I grit my teeth and focus, trying to just let one spark out.

______

Baz

I walk back into our room to find Snow on the floor, staring wide-eyed and helpless at his smoking laptop. It’s just the distraction I need from the shirt incident, he looks ridiculous. (And absolutely adorable, I might add).

"You know Snow, blowing up your laptop won’t make the homework go away.” He looks up at me from the floor, pouty and disgruntled. It’s all I can do to stifle my laugh. I try to smirk but end up smiling foolishly instead.

“I wasn’t trying to blow it up.” He pokes at it with one finger then jerks away as the laptop sparks sporadically. “This is all your fault, you spelled my laptop shut!”

“I most definitely did not. You’re just paranoid, and obsessed with me as usual.” Then I remember, I did spell his laptop shut, but that was weeks ago. Whatever. I’m not telling him that. I can’t believe he hasn’t discovered it until now.

“I’m not obsessed with you.” He mutters. “It’s just, I have an paper due tomorrow and Penny’s tutoring Agatha so she can’t help.”

“Poor little Snow, can’t even write a paper by himself. How pathetic.” I say, but my heart’s not really in it, and the insult falls flat. He looks so hopeless.

“Crowley Snow, it’s just a paper, it’s not the end of the world.”

“I know.” He frowns unhappily. I hesitate then say, “You know, if you’re really that desperate, I could help you.” Snow looks up.

“What?”

“Nothing. Never mind, it was a stupid idea.”

“No, you said you’d help me.” His eager expression stirs something in my stomach. I was going to regret this.

“Yes. I did say that.” Snow thinks for a moment.

“Okay.”

“Okay what?”

“Okay, you can help me.”

* * *

We’re sitting on the floor between our beds. Neutral territory. Neither of us has acknowledged the incident with the shirt. Simon’s chewing on his pencil, eyes burning holes in the paper as if that would somehow make the essay appear on the page. I can tell he’s having trouble focusing, he seems even more distracted than usual. Suddenly, without looking at me, he speaks up.

“I asked Agatha out today.” My stomach drops to the floor. I feel sick all of the sudden and it takes all my energy to look indifferent.

“Hmm. And why are you telling me this?” My throat is dry.

“I don’t know.” He looks at the floor, not meeting my eyes. “She said no.” I blink.

“What?” He and Wellbelove would be the golden couple, the perfect match while they were both waiting to meet their soulmates. It doesn’t make any sense for her to say no. (Not that I was complaining, I was just surprised).

“Yeah. And then she sort of…started crying.”

“What? Why?” I was intrigued despite myself. He shrugged. “I don’t know. She was saying something about being fake or something and then she just ran off.”

“I’m not surprised. One look at you and who wouldn’t run away crying?” I smirk at him, trying not to show how interested I am in his love life. Perfect angel-girl Agatha gets asked out by angel-boy Simon Snow, The Chosen One, and then runs away crying? It didn’t make any sense.

“Shut up Baz. I shouldn’t have told you. Just forget about it.”

We go back to working on his essay. My hand accidentally brushes his and I pull away so fast I nearly fall over. Simon gives me a strange look. 

I hate him for making me this way. I never asked for it and I certainly didn’t want it.

Being so close to him is like balancing on a tightrope, one wrong step and everything I’ve worked so hard for will come crashing to the ground. And I’ll be the one breaking into a million different pieces, not Simon. Never Simon.

But sometimes I wonder if that would really be that bad. Because I already feel like I’m breaking and tearing into a million pieces every single time I look into those beautiful blue eyes.

Reblog and you’re guaranteed to be successful at whatever you do next!

Writing Prompt Starters

Since I was getting several requests for the writing prompts to come back, I’m going to fulfill them tonight! One of the requests asked that I make my own list, so hopefully you find a prompt you like.

Just let me know the character, the prompt number, and if you want NSFW, otherwise I’ll keep it PG. Feel free to use any prompts for your own writing if you want!

Fluff

1.       “I’m not a pillow!”

2.       “You + Me = Baby!”

3.       “Why do you have my bra?”

4.       “Only if you pinky promise.”

5.       “Tag. Your it!”

6.       “Don’t leave me, even if I say leave.”

7.       “Let’s wrestle for it!”

8.       “Cuddle me, I’m cold.”

9.       “Always kiss me goodnight.”

10.   “The doctor said the only thing that could cure me are cuddles.”

11.   “Is that a pregnancy test?”

12.   “You’re cute. I know.”

13.   “Feed me.”

14.   “Hey, did you know I love you?”

15.   “Has anyone ever told you how cute you are?”

16.   “Hold me, I’m scared.”

 Angst

17.   “I finally realized something-I was never going to be enough.”

18.   “If you’re not the one.”

19.   “Don’t touch me!”

20.   “I wanted you to fight for me.”

21.   “Why couldn’t it be me?”

22.   “I don’t need you anymore.”

23.   “She’s the one, isn’t she?”

24.   “Keep it. It was always meant for you.”

25.   “Do you want me to leave?”

26.   “Am I not enough?”

27.   “Do you have any idea what you have done?”

28.   “Please tell me this isn’t real life.”

29.   “What do you mean gone?”

30.   “Say something! Anything!”

31.   “Just leave me alone. No one can save me now.”

 Misc.

32.   “I want to go down the slide!

33.   “1, 2, 3, 4, I declare a thumb war!”

34.   “Oranges or apples?”

35.   “It’s called a tampon.”

36.   “If I go down, I’m taking you with me.”

37.   “I’m babysitting. So where’s the kid?”

38.   “You are such a tattle-tale.”

39.   “Don’t copy me!”

40.   “You suck!”

41.   “Let’s order a pizza.”

42.   “You don’t understand, I NEED a juicebox, and I NEED it now.”

43.   “Only if I can drive.”

44.   “This is an emergency! I ran out of toilet paper!”

45.   “Quick, we can still catch them if we run. The only thing I’m running after is the ice cream truck.”

46.   “Friends don’t let other friends do the chicken dance.”

so we’re playing that game

Loki transforms himself into a snake and waits for his next victim to approach. Peter enters the room.

Peter: Awe look at the little snek. So smooth, so wiggly, so good.

Loki/Snake: *sticks out tongue*

Peter: Yep, this is one great snek. 10 out of 10 would boop his snoop. *reaches out and lightly pokes snake on the nose* Boop!

Loki/Snake: *blink*

Peter: Well I gotta go patrol. Bye bye smol snek!

Peter leaves the area. Loki transforms back as Thor enters the room

Thor: What happened to proving you feel no attachment to the Spider child?

Loki: His levels of innocence and purity has cracked my stone cold heart. I cannot explain it any other way.

aziraphale always rejects crowley first, it’s part of their dance, part of their routine. crowley suggests the arrangement as neither doing anything, aziraphale rejects it, crowley reframes it as helping each other, aziraphale agrees. crowley asks for holy water, aziraphale rejects him, crowley reframes as dangerous for him, aziraphale agrees. crowley suggests they raise the antichrist together, aziraphale rejects it, crowley reframes it as thwarting evil, aziraphale agrees. 

crowley suggests they run away together, aziraphale rejects it. crowley reframes it - hell knows it was me! and aziraphale rejects it again.

crowley had every reason to believe that aziraphale was going to give in eventually. that’s the dance. i’m sorry, whatever i said, i didn’t mean it. now get in the car. he’s panicked, but he is still trying to complete the dance. crowley might have expected the bandstand break-up as par for the course, but crowley doesn’t really understand that aziraphale is really, actually rejecting him until he tries a second time, because he’s always had to try a second time. but aziraphale says no. maybe for the first time ever, aziraphale gets to the end of the dance, and he still says no. you can see crowley finally realize it too: 

he looks like he’s been shot. i suppose in some way he has. 

Okay so I know he sauntered into hell but I live for the angst and dramatics so heres my AU-

[Parts 1 /  2 / 3 / ? ]

And so it continues,

[Parts 1 / 2 / 3 / ? ]