#Jacob Brown

[clove-pinks]

Somehow I missed the part where New York City specifically commissioned the artist John Wesley Jarvis to paint Napoleonic Sexyman portraits of assorted War of 1812 military leaders??

The portraits are even noted by War of 1812 vet Captain Frederick Marryat in his late 1830s travelogue Diary in America:

In the large room of [New York City Hall] are some interesting pictures and busts of the presidents, mayors of the city, and naval and military officers, who have received the thanks of Congress and the freedom of the city. Some are very fair specimens of art: the most spirited is that of Commodore Perry, leaving his sinking vessel, in the combat on the Lakes, to hoist his flag on board of another ship.

This is the portrait of Perry by Jarvis, and it is indeed one of his best representations:

What really sent me down the rabbit hole was a sexyman portrait of Jacob Jennings Brown of all people: previously featured on this blog with a not-so-flattering portrait by the same artist.

Damme! The rest of the collection is equally impressive. I had no idea Captain Isaac Hull of USS Constitution was so pleasingly plump.

[winged-wolf-s-collection-of-arts]

Day four (BTHB): Restraining bolt!

It’s pretty easy to tell when something’s taken hold of Jacob, but- it’s not like you could take out his cybernetics-

[....gore warning]

Jacob belongs to Dotty on discord, Angel belongs to @pure-vanilla-lilies !

@badthingshappenbingo

unmasked below the cut, and bingo card

[lizzygrantarchives]

T: The New York Times Style Magazine, February 9, 2012

For some reason, Lana Del Rey and her sultry songs drive some people nuts.

CURVACEOUS AND PRETTY IN A DRESS, she brims with catchy songs, all a bit retro, ironic and modern. Without straying too far off the pop grid, she’s the perfect antidote to Rihanna-Gaga overload — dare we say, a skinnier Adele, a more stable Amy Winehouse? Since posting “Video Games” to YouTube last summer, she’s amassed tens of millions of hits, sold out concerts to fashion’s who’s who and now, finally, has released her long-awaited album, which is currently No. 2 on the Billboard Top 200 in America, and No. 1 in Britain, Germany, Ireland, Switzerland and Austria. If you were going to manufacture a star for this moment, you’d manufacture her. Some people believe that’s precisely what happened.

Sitting in her producer’s Chelsea studio in jeans and an oversize sweater, smoking Pall Mall Blues that share space — in a beat-up snakeskin bag — with an old Tennessee Williams paperback, Lana Del Rey tries to shrug off the suggestion that her father bought her success, that her face went under the knife, that she is some sort of industry creation, all accusations floating around the Internet. It’s absurd or maybe flattering, but despite her laugh and smile, it hurts.

“I mean, I met everyone who is anyone in the music industry over the last six years and I was unsignable,” she says. “That’s what I was told by everyone. I would play my songs, explain what I was trying to do, and I’d get, ‘You know who’s No. 1 in 13 countries right now? Kesha.’ ”

There’s a formula for a pop song and a prescribed length for radio. Nothing Del Rey’s written obeys either. “ ‘Video Games’ was a four-and-a-half-minute ballad,” she says. “No instruments on it. It was too dark, too personal, too risky, not commercial. It wasn’t pop until it was on the radio.” And even “Born to Die” — her first big video — was, with its double chorus that never lifts, described to her as “another monotonous depressing song.”

For an hour, Del Rey and her producer Emile Haynie play songs from the album. She points out jazzy idiosyncrasies, quirky lyrics and favorite melodies. Sometimes she sings; often she gets up and dances. The last song they put on is “National Anthem”:

Red, white, blue’s in the skies Summer’s in the air and Baby, heaven’s in your eyes I’m your national anthem … I sing the national anthem, While I’m standing, Over your body … Money is the anthem God you’re so handsome

It may not be her most lyrically complex song, but it feels emblematic. As she did in the “Born to Die” video (in which she wraps her body in an American flag), she equates her sexuality to the national anthem. And she knowingly conflates love with material success. It feels like a wink at the listener. The Twitter generation loves a wink.

There’s also more than a little of Miley Cyrus’s “Party in the USA” in the song. Both you could play alone dancing in your bedroom, sing along to in your convertible with the top down or (it might surprise Cyrus’s Disney producers) find yourself gyrating to at an illegal warehouse rave. Whereas Cyrus’s song is a bland pop confection that somehow wound up cool, Del Rey’s track comes from someplace dark thematically and unstructured musically and ends up with pop appeal.

I explain my theory to Del Rey, in a roundabout way, and she nods, sings a bit of “Party in the USA” and ponders the matter for a few moments. “I really like that chorus,” she says. “I love an interesting melody.”

Haynie is more direct. “That’s the beauty of it,” he says. “That’s kind of the magic. She is supercool. The songs are as cool as it gets, sonically and aesthetically. But it’s like, ‘Wait a minute, this could resonate with the world.’ She started underground, small and kind of tight-knit, but some of these recordings are like, ‘Wow.’ I mean, that’s what I heard when I listened. It’s cool and it’s dark, but I thought, This could be big, you know?”

***

We head to a 10th Avenue Italian restaurant that her publicist has chosen. It feels tacky. “Do you want to just get a coffee across the street, and sit on a stoop? It’s not too cold?” she asks. I agree, though it is in fact too cold.

At the pizza place she orders a large coffee with no sugar, lots of milk. The server spots the old Tennessee Williams paperback in her purse, which sparks a conversation about 1950s movies and Elizabeth Taylor as Cleopatra.

Then he asks, “Are you two a couple?” and looks at me and says: “Today is your lucky day. I wish I was lucky like you.”

The presumption doesn’t stop him from flirting with Del Rey. “Big cup for you,” he says, handing her her coffee. “Just a little kiss for me.”

Del Rey laughs and hits him right back with: “Sure. Just a little kiss. Where do you want it?”

There was no kiss, but the subject of Del Rey’s mouth is an irresistible one. So, sitting on the steps of a 25th Street brownstone, I ask the seemingly preposterous question. “It’s fine,” she assures me. “They’re real lips, I mean. In real life my lips don’t look that big. I think because I cartoonized the footage of myself in the video for ‘Video Games’ things look exaggerated.”

If that video is to blame for a pernicious rumor, it is also to blame for putting her on the map. What it didn’t do was get her a record deal. Not until Fearne Cotton, a BBC D.J., stumbled across it and played it on Radio 1 last June. Suddenly the world was calling.

“I was struck by the wonderful combination of spine-tingling video footage, her haunting voice and the simplicity of the song,” Cotton wrote in an e-mail. “I watched it about five or six times in a row and became slightly fixated with it. The lyrics then started to really stand out and it became my song of last summer. … I had been waiting for a song like this.”

Hers is the typical experience. But falling in love with a video or a studio recording can set unrealistic expectations for Del Rey’s live performances. Look for her to break it down Nicki Minaj-style and you’ll be disappointed. Her turn on “Saturday Night Live” in January was widely criticized. She told me presciently about her anxiety beforehand: “I’m not by nature a showstopper. I love to write and play songs, but onstage, all these things come into play. I’m always saying to myself, Don’t mess up. Don’t mess up.”

Del Rey is a small-town girl. She grew up Elizabeth Grant in Lake Placid, N.Y., neither rich nor poor. She remembers as a kid asking herself cheesy meaning-of-life questions and thinking she was really special for doing so. Then, in high school, she took a philosophy class and realized she was like everyone else. While a philosophy major at Fordham University, she started finagling gigs in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, and the East Village. At 19 a small indie label signed her as Lizzy Grant for $10,000. “It was amazing. I got my own place to live. I lived on that money, finished school. At that point I envisioned having a very nice career touring small clubs, continuing my studies in philosophy and volunteering,” she tells me. “It’s actually the same vision I have today. I have a serious life here. I have a really big family. You know, I’m needed here.”

Needed by whom? She hints at family, which makes sense given the darker, psychosexual context of many of her songs.

What about love and loss, the other dark note in her oeuvre? “I felt the same way for a really long time, and then I met someone who I guess I fell in love with,” she says. “I just didn’t know I could feel differently. That time with him became sort of a place that I fell back to in my memory.”

And the breakup? “Well, I mean, the breakup is a part of it in the way that in the midst of loss you try to still look towards the light and not fall to pieces or do self-destructive things.”

She grows quiet, looks at her watch. It’s getting late. She admits that she doesn’t have an important industry meeting, as her publicist told me, but has to baby-sit for a friend.

Before she goes, I ask her where she lives. She’s looking to buy a place, but for now is in Williamsburg. “Staying with my ex-boyfriend,” she says nonchalantly, then bursts into nervous laughter and admits, “I live on his couch.”

I give her a look like, You just told me all that about falling in love and breaking up and you’re on the dude’s couch?

She pins it on the touring, letting out another embarrassed laugh. “Because no, I’m busy though!”

Originally published on nytimes.com with the headline A Star Is Born (and Scorned), and in abridged form in the February 19, 2012 issue of T: The New York Times Style Magazine.

[dropoutdottv]

🚨BIG drop happening RIGHT NOW on the Dropout Store!

⚡Check out the Super Saiyan Jacob Tie Dye Shirt (art by Khristina Cruz); The Great Samuel Dalton Golden Pin Sweepstakes Pin (art by Ali @devildaisies), which enters you into a sweepstakes that could win you a visit to the Dropout studio; the Kingston Brown Plush (design by Justin Hall), Lou Wilson's character from Dimension 20: The Unsleeping City -- which only has 100 available, but all 100 will have Lou Wilson's actual hair sewn in! These specialty items are only available for purchase until 9/6! And lastly, a MacGuffin pinset from Dimension 20: Never Stop Blowing Up (art by Ali @devildaisies)

[queenoftheimps]

OK so I know it's been a running joke that Eric Bogosian has been spoiling things during the entire press tour

but it is fucking HILARIOUS that MOST of the stuff he spoiled or hinted at HAPPENED IN THE LAST FIVE MINUTES OF THE FINALE

[cant-get-worse-than-this]

What. What is this. Why. How. What were they told to do. What is the context. Why is Donald wearing those glasses. Why is Danny posing like that. Why is Chevy the center piece. Why is Alison choking Danny. Why is Gillian dressed fancier than everyone else (as she should tho, she ate). Why is Joel so far back. What.

[littleeliza-lotte]

Grace and Dónal’s final show

Please do not share outside of Tumblr

[hannibard]

I think Will Graham's problem is that he's constantly surrounded by only 4 groups of people: therapists, serial killers, cops and dogs. No wonder he ended up like That.

[bethanyeliseart]

the vampire louis: he who owns the night

[moonlit-void-to-the-far-unknown]

Watching the interview autumn brown did with Jacob and idk why but him saying

“And their bedroom doesn’t look like a brothel anymore”

just gut punched me like

I can’t explain why but like he’s right, their bedroom looks like a nice room in a brothel, like a high end room in a brothel. Because that’s Armand’s entire subconscious. As fucked as it is. He is always the boy who was taken and placed in a brothel once as a slave and then sent to them by Marius.

Look I read too deep into things. I know but also Jesus Christ. That pimp/prostitute dynamic was always the underline of Armand and Louis entire relationship. Weather they knew it or not. It played in how they moved with the other, how they decorated their penthouse, how their fights went. Everything. Even in the end, how he dismissed him, told him to get out, or speaks to them forever being, pimp and sex worker. Deep underneath it all.

[will-graham-coded]

[winged-wolf-s-collection-of-arts]

SCP au, and my favourite armoured tsundere, Jacob :)

[phoniexrose02]

Mad at Me

Eli Hawk Moskowitz x Black! Reader

Smutt~

You'd been with the Sweet Boy Eli for as long as you could remember, Thankfully you two had Grown together Threw School and Eventually Confessed your Feels an Gotten Together Before Highschool. When he'd gotten into his Hawk Phase he'd Treated you like Royalty.

You'd Loved the Blue His Sudden Confidence was Sexy too you. He Loved how you'd Had no Shame in Public, you'd just Hope into his Lap and Smoother him with Kisses. But than it was Red, At first you Loved it. Something about it Was Angry, an in the Bedroom he was.

He'd Fuck you Hard Like he was Mad at you. Giving you a Rough Pounding after Whatever Karate Bullshit Had made him Upset in the First place, You Loved it. Until his Quiet Bullying started Spilling into your Life, Cobra Kai Really started to Show So you Ended it. You Missed Each Other But you Refused to engage With him until he was Off his BullShit, So you'd Flirt around an Recent you'd Met the Gorgeous Robby Keene, he was Kind too you But with a Roughness in his Voice an even Better, He was a Killer PotHead~

You'd decided to attend a Christmas party with him an Wore a Tight Red Sweater, with White fur Covering your Cleavage and Wrist, the Sweater hugging your Figure perfectly While your Red pumps made you tower over the boy.

You had Found yourselves On a Couch Shotgunning a J, the Loud Christmas Party Drowned out as your Kisses Last a Little longer than just Sharing Smoke.

You pull away with a Breathless Smile."Hawks Gawking at you~" he quietly Hummed into the Back of your Ear he placed a Soft Kiss letting his Ringed Fingers Sink into your Fluffy Thighs.

"Let Him..."

"Am I still receiving my Christmas Present later?" he Whispered back Nibbled at your Neck an lobe."You got more Trees for me?~" You Mewled out Sinking Deeper into his Embrace." I can...You gonna gimme my present later?~" he asked as your eyes began to Linger back to your Ex, his Angered expression as you Grinded your Hips on Robby's Lap Made you want to Laugh.

"I guess I'll see you After, Just Text me When your Ready ok?~" you Lifted off his Lap Earning a Displeased Whimper." Don't Worry, I'll sit in your lap all you want at my house~" you Grabbed his Face pulling him in for one last Kiss, he Hummed Happily as you walked away from him.

As you looked back to Where your Ex was he had of course disappeared, you huffed going around to look for the young man. You'd soon found him sitting in a Secluded an Quiet Corner, his eyes quickly found you and you Giggled at his Angry Expression.

"Can't keep your eyes to yourself can you?" You Greeted Sourly Finding his pouting rather Funny, he Returned your attitude with a Grime stare.

" Keene, Really?~"

He asked Almost Painful Quiet, It made you smile how Jealous he got for you." I'm Moving forward, You should too" Eli's eyes began to wonder your Christmas Fit, Fuckin' Perfect.

"You are my Way Forward~"

He pulled you close, letting his Fingers rest into your hips. Fuck, you'd be lying if you said you didn't love the way he handled you." Show me than~" it wasn't long before you two Desperately Shoved yourselves into a Near by Bathroom, You Two Easily had this effect on each other Your Panties Soaked While he Dick Quickly Grew Rock Hard.

As you slam the door slowly he'd quickly shoved you into the door, he pulled your hips against his Hard an Wrapped his hand around your Neck. He kissed an Licked at your ear aggressively You Mewled into his Grip as he began Lifting your Dress.You Really missed this~ "I need you so Bad Baby~"

"Oh now you Need me?"

He grumbled out an hooked his fingers into your panties before pulling them down slightly, He let his fingers run threw your already soaked Cunt with a smirk."You don't need me, Not if he'd doin' this to you" He shoved his fingers inside with little resistance pulling a Quiet Croak front your throat." I need you please give it to me~" he gave your throat a Squeeze."Why Should I?" You Whimper as he dug his fingers Deep making sure to hit every spot, you Whimper out voice Broken as he squeezed.

"Fuck! Fuck me Hawk Please!~"

You Croaked out in Desperation and he removed his hand from your throat with a Chuckle, he than pulled your Beautiful Brown Tits from the Top of your dress, Softly squeezin' pulling at Them."Fuck your so Fuckin' Pretty~"

You Weren't giving much time to Process his Comment as he was already kicking your Legs apart an pushing into you Sopping cunt, your toes Curled as you lean Further into the door. He slides Deep with a Grunt before Placing one hand onto your Shoulder an the Other to your Thick Waist, You let out a Deep Growl as he Wiggles his Hips Deep in your Hilt, Your Toes Curl in your Heels as he Shoved you Further into the Door."Fuck~ your still made for me~"

he pulled his Hips back far keeping his Gripped Rough on your Shoulder before Quickly shoving back inside with a Quiet moan, you Whimpered Doing your Best to keep Quiet as he Repeated the Act. You Gripped at the Door for any support, he plowed at your Tight Cunt with a Satisfying Slap, the Sound quickly Echoing the small Bathroom."So Good Eli! Don't Stop!~"

He placed both Hands as your Plush Hips an Began Pulling you as Deep as he Could Fit, he Moaned as he pulled your Cheeks apart Getting a Good Look at Where you Were Connected."Keep moving those Hips pretty girl, I wanna be Deep when I Cum~" he Growled as you do as commanded Slamming Back onto his Slong.

"Please Cum in me Eli!~" you Scream as his Thrust Progress Rapidly, you began to Rub at your Clit as your other hand rest against his Hands."Please Eli! Please!~" he entwines your Fingers together as best he Can before he Squeezed them Tight, Dumping his Load into your Squirting Cunt. " Fuck! You Made a Mess!~" his Legs Shook as he let the last Spurts Run Dry an he slowly pulled out, he backed away watching you Dripping by the Door.

You bit your lip at the Warm Fluids Gushing from you an quickly slip your panties back on, keeping his Juices in."I gotta get Going, Gotta Date~" you Mumbled out as you pulled up your Dress legs still Jittering, he Held your Weak Hips softly shoved you into Bathroom Door once again.

"You think I'm gonna let him fuck you?".He Gruffed out Holding your Hips tight, you Laughed Pulling his hands from you."Not together Remember? But he is Bi, I'm Sure he wouldn't mind your Appearance~"

He Grumbled an You Crossed your arms Resting you Back against Door." I'm heading to my Car, I wouldn't Mind my Passenger Prince". he missed you More than anything...but that Damn Keene, he'd Seemed to already have Won a Place in your Heart,

He Exited the Bathroom with you Hugged Close your Weak Hips close to his, He'll show Him...

How to fuck you Right~

More Cobra Kai 🐍

[beingfacetious]

Community | 3x10 "Regional Holiday Music"

If we win regionals, then it's straight on to sectionals. And then a week later is semis. Then semiregionals. Then regional-semis. Then national lower-zone semis! Oh. But I kinda thought this was … You know. Just for Christmas. No, no, no! This is forever. This is what we do now. This is who we are.

[petrowriting]

the only problem i have with iwtv 2022 is the fact that they gave all the poc actors those goofy ass contact lenses and hid their big beautiful brown eyes from us. they gave us a little taste of those huge ass doe-like dark chocolate orbs and then they took them from us cruelly and without remorse. awful. horrible. every day i wake up and i think about what we lost.

[fyeahfandomss]