#there he is I finally drew him! (jk this ones a goof)

[alienglowgarden]

tricky treat! 😊😊😊

Happy Halloween!

[tokyokookmin]

UGH can we just talk about how cute jikook are! I mean they're so delicate with each other.

ps- i love your blogs, keep going!

Yes!, sure we can.

There are just so many moments of jikook, it has been explained by many other bloggers as well, therefore I won't speak too much regarding it but should I make a masterlist KINDA of jikook moments, I suppose you would love it anon! Well, its top im not sure cute jikook moments then.

1. JIKOOK VLIVE

So what I personally love about this v-live is that JKK just decided to go on live and they were pure goofs~ .Like please someone give a award to Jimin for being the most dramatic man while cooking or we say "pouring sauce into the bowl with being so immersed till he forgot to open the cap". I love the way they bonded, and how theyjust united for ARMY and and making their hometown style gimpab!

ps: jkk are too chaotic

2. RUN EPISODE 97

This episode is very underrated, both of them were practically babies! It was pure fluff and I loved the way how JM drew faces under his pair of socks and kept showing it to Jungkook and how both of would laugh hysterically. (sometimes I can't differentiate their laughs). Jungkook drew under his socks as well, like his drawing is too good. Y'all I know that viral moment, but im not gonna mention it because this blog is a fluff blog~

ps : watch their behind the scenes~

3. RUN EPISODE 112 & 113

This was THE VIDEO WHICH MADE ME A JKK-ER. Yeap I used to be a vminer and I still am, but this episode just made me realized the interest jkk shares with each other and how both of them were so cuteee in this episode. My vmin barrier broke once I saw how JK rushed to JM to hug him so that he could become his partner. MY GOSH jk is a protective one huh.#busanbross

ps : it was hilarious, (jimin can't handle muscle bunny, he's heavy ahaha)

4.TVN YOU QUIZ ON THE BLOCK

So this was a pretty emotional interview,(not cute but it was heartwarming) but before I talk about that can we just appreciate that moment where jimin knew jungkook wanted to talk about something but ends to not to and they both just shake it of by laughing and holding their hands. What made me sad is when jimin started talking about their debut hardships and how he teared up a bit and how jungkook told the host about how JM is the most hardworking member in the team and said comforting words about him.

ps: im emotional now help- i love jimin so much.

5. SPEAK YOURSELF TOUR THE FINAL 2019 10 29

Even by looking at the picture you can see the comfort. You know that GCF-TOKYO song "there for you' which implies that Jk means he will be there for jimin but "you gotta be there for me too" which means jimin gotta be there for him too. So yeah, JM just know jungkook well and he comforts Jk pretty well.It was so cute and i wished i was a part of the audience, i would have had a panic attack looking at them being so cute,fluff,intimate ON STAGE . Too bad it's impossible now .

ps: jungkook loves army so much, i'm too soft

6. IN THE SOOP

Please jkk never gives me a break, they were the best duo in (in the soop lol), they both were playing (drunk) chasing after each other and then JM broke JK's mosquito net and and rest is history. AND PLS.. the next morning jungkook literally went to cuddle JM because he knew he was injured. And how unbothered Jk was was jimin was imitating how loud he snores. #unbotheredkingjungkook.The rest was just them fooling around and just having fun ... it was heartwarming and i personally treasured their moment there.

ps: watch in the soop by using dailymotion if you don't have membership huhuhuhuuu.

Thank you for the lovely praise anon . It's late right now so I will add more of their precious moments and cute ones as well, I hoped you like it . XOXO. stay safe.

[youarejesting]

Honestly ill let you chose Taehyung or Muscle!Jk hehe Sfw Prompt word: “dangerous”

Taehyung: Dangerous SFW

Taehyung was just out there in the world living his best life. He didn’t break the law, didn’t engage in any shady activity. On a Friday night he could be found in his room playing video games and listening to music. The wildest he got was playing a few unsavory shooting games like Grand Theft Auto and singing a few uncouth words from his favorite rappers in their latest cyphers.

So this absolute bean of a young man spent most of his days taking pictures of things he thought looked ‘just right’ and his nights goofing off on his computer. But photography was his main hobbie and that’s how he became a wedding photographer. That’s how he met you. A bridesmaid who during the reception approached him with a strange request.

“Hello, could you follow me around the party and take a few pictures of me doing things, so it looks like I participated in the evening events. It will only take a few minutes.” He nodded and followed you around taking about five photos. One where you pretended to dance, one where you were talking with the bride a few other candid shots and then without any further warning you thanked him and walked out of the hall.

He grew curious who were you this beautiful young lady who left such a strange first impression on him. He had gotten one extra photo, it was of your grand exit. The way you had escaped the music barefoot the edges of your dress billowing out like you were floating on air, looking over your shoulder at him a sly smile stretched across your lips.

He was tired and the night was coming to an end. Having finally reached the time limit he was paid for. It was time for him to pack up and take his leave. Once out of the hall he took a left down the corridor heading for the car park when he heard a clatter. It drew him from his quick escape, what if someone had gotten hurt.

He peeked into the kitchen which was empty of staff, but full of left over food. And there you were barefoot sitting on the counter a whole baked potato in your beautifully manicured hand.

“Hey photo guy, you want something to eat, I know they didn’t feed you, they didn’t feed us either. Thanks for the photo’s by the way, I want it to seem like I was there throughout the night when really I took a nap.” You were a little annoyed with the whole day, weddings should be about getting married to the person you love not how big and fancy the party is. “Who has a wedding start at six am and finishes at eleven pm? And not only that, none of us got to eat. She has fourteen bridesmaids who needs that many.”

“It was a tad bit excessive” He laughed as you patted the countertop beside you. All thoughts of his escape lost as he hoisted himself up beside you and looked at the selection of food you had laid out. Serving trays one full of vegetables the other two of meat. “Are we allowed?”

“Whatever doesn’t get eaten get’s thrown out and they are all too high and mighty to admit they are hungry” You shrugged as you started cutting a piece of steak. “So photo guy, what is the worst wedding you have ever seen?”

“Um, I hate to admit it but this one?” He said eating heartedly some chicken, steak and vegetables. “I mean it was so long but nothing really happened, the colors hot pink and neon orange weren’t exactly easy on the eyes and on top of all that the people weren’t that nice”

“How is it even when you try to be mean you still sound too nice, come on show some frustration or something” You laughed sliding off the bench, you twirled playfully on your way to the fridge and pulled out another tray this one full of dessert. “They served cake and dessert and only four people ate it”

“The cake is trash but, the caterer’s desserts are delicious” You walked them over to him and grinned the two of you talking about your lives and hobbies. His phone ringtone cut through the conversation blaring the famous rap trio J-dope, Gloss and Randa’s Cypher. He sang along trying to retrieve his phone from his pocket but his camera bag was in the way.

Grabbing the phone for him you answered with a grin “1800-Dangerous. how can I help you?” You heard a choke on the other end and they promptly hung up. You looked at the phone and up at the photographer who was laughing supporting a chocolatey grin. The young man looking like he should be on Tv. The phone rang again breaking you from your thoughts.

“What’s your name?” You asked in advance

“Kim Taehyung big Tae Successful Hyung” He grinned and you amazed by the meaning of his name and answered his phone.

“Hello this is Kim Big Tae Successful Hyung’s phone. How may I help you?”

“Uh is Kim Taehyung there?” The voice spoke nervously and you gave a sly grin.

“Uh, what does he look like?” You asked and Taehyung was giggling into his third cup of chocolate mousse. 

“He has uh a handsome face, and kind of big ears and a freckle on the tip of his nose” You blinked walking closer to inspect his face. 

“Hey, he really does have a freckle on his nose. That’s cute, here he is?” You snuck some food into containers and grinned stashing them away as he finished his conversation.

You both stood it seemed a mutual agreement to take you leave you handed him a bag of food including dinner and dessert and you had some too. “I guess I should call a taxi and make my way out before the staff come back”

“I can give you a ride” The chocolate-covered smile was dangerous alright. Dangerously cute.

[jaspitch]

Five Nightguards At Freddys

Night 1- Storm's Archives

Somehow she knew she had to do it. Make it through the night running around the pizzeria, nobody with her, without any power, or a damn flashlight. Storm had never wanted to work at this shitty pizzeria. But oh no, "We gotta stay to keep Michael safe!" Since when had September ever actually cared about Mike anyways?!

So after surviving only three and a half hours on limited power because the generator wasn't worth crap, Storm found herself in complete darkness. When Freddy had started thumping his way towards the office, Storm knew she couldn't just die like this. So, what's the next best thing? Yep, running into party room four and hiding under a table. It was easy, especially considering she was a short stack, 5'4 to be exact.

However, her special uniform seemed to illuminate her. The jacket, which was oversized and a dark blue due to her ranked status by Henry (Executive manager's first aid), had kept her warm, sure. However, because of her small frame, it would hang right before her knees. Which not only meant it caught on things when she moved, but tripped her up, and the blue was somehow seeable in the pitch dark.

Longing for the original, but less warm, baby blue and gray uniform, seemed stupid. And it would be, if Freddy wasn't currently staring at her, his hand having moved the tablecloth up, and Storm trying her best to untangle the end of her jacket from some ribbons that had been swept under the table. As the brown bear reached over, Storm finally untangled the damn sweater and bolted from underneath the table, running for the entrance to the party room.

Man, weren’t Wednesdays just the best? She kept running down the hallway, hearing the metal of most likely Freddy follow her at a decently slow pace. She turned down another hallway, just to be met with a dead end: the janitor’s closet. Now sweating buckets, Storm started to frantically look around. Something caught her eye in the corner. Looking to it with her dark blue eyes, a small ray of hope blossomed in her chest. It was, by far, the most beautiful thing to be stowed upon her. A vent. A vent that could hold someone at least 6′6 with a weight of 350 lbs. Thank the Lord.

When her hand touched the metal, she drew it back. It was fucking burning hot! The heater was supposed to be off after hours! Her only guess was that Fritz left it on again. Regardless, Storm sucked in a deep breath, and then pulled on the metal, which surprisingly gave in and came off. Dropping the damned hatch, Storm jumped a bit and climbed into the large vent. At first, she felt as if she were burning alive, but that almost went away within ten seconds. Almsot as if on que, Freddy passed by, his eyes glowing a light white. They were pupil sized and had black floating around them. Since when had his eyes not been blue? That just fueled the thought of the pizzeria being haunted.

Eventually the mascot walked away, creaking and groaning as he did so. Sighing, she squinted at her black watch, which lit up with a green light when she tapped it twice. The bright light dialated her pupils and aggrivated her eyes, but she got over it. The time was 4:38. Great, it’s only been what, an hour or so? Staying in the vent wasn’t possible, along with her body heat and extra warm uniform, the heater was starting to overheat the nineteen year old. After checking to make sure the coast was clear, Storm jumped out and placed the vent hatch back on. That, of course, took a good ten minutes because the thing kept turning sideways and not sitting straight.

Finally free from her heated domain, Storm went flying towards the office to try and find the flashlight she had dropped when Freddy had entered the room. After searching for a few minutes, she found the flashlight, noticing the glass had a small crack in it. Whatever, Henry could fix that after he found her dismembered body inside one of the mascot suits. It wouldn’t be a surprise if she didn’t see sunlight. Deciding that staying in the room would be smart, Storm sat under the table, dusting a few cobwebs from her jacket as she glanced from under her hiding spot. This place was the abolute worst, especilly in the dark. Fuck, forget the creepy atmosphere when the lights were on.

With plenty of time to think, Storm started to think of the people in her life. Tall, slender, September Charles. He was the best friend a person could ask for. Despite being self-centered and a total introvert, he did anything Storm asked him to do. Play video games all day despite both of them having work? Sure. Going to a party with only druggies, alchoholics, and underage kids? Yep, perfect. Aside from that, he was especially handsome. That thought made a light blush dust Storm’s cheeks. September had somewhat messy, yet silky, shoulder length ginger-brown hair and stunning bright orangish-brownish eyes. He had thin-framed green glasses that sat beautifully on his lightly tanned face. Everything about him was amazing. 

Who else was there to think about? Mike, alright, her mind flew to Mike. He was her other best friend, who by the way, was in some sort of rivalry with September. Beautiful black hair that was shoulder length, matching his bright blue eyes. He was more of an outrovert, but still kept to himself because of how judgemental people were. Storm remembered the first time she saw him at college- struggling with a math course in the multipurpose room. She had been reading a baking guide for lullaberry pie when she had noticed the taller male run a hand through his silky black hair in frustration. Scooting closer, she noted the advanced algebra course he was taking. Which happened to be the same one she had taken last year. “Hey, need some help?” Storm finally asked, making the blue-eyed male look up. “What?”

“Do you need some help? I’d be happy to, that math course is a bit difficult, huh?” Although Mike had been hesitant at first, he eventually got used to her helping him every Monday and Friday. So when she had graduated after taking a one year Doctorate course, Mike had been left alone. That is, until he got her number and address and started doing zoom calls. Of course they sometimes showed up at each others places. Storm had been laughing her ass off when Mike stepped into her large house, his eyes had widened and jaw dropped. Due to her mother being insanely wealthy (and also gone all the time after divorcing Storm’s dad), she had left all of her assets to her after dying. 

It was almost as funny when September and Mike had met. While chilling at a caffe, Mike walked in, catching the eyes of Storm. September noticed this and raised an eyebrow, asking in his deep, monotone voice, “You know this guy?” She nodded and got up, skipping over to him. After inviting him to her table and paying for his carmel macchiato (He complained about her paying but she didn’t care), they both sat down. A flash of recognition crossed both men’s faces before they both gave eachother a glare. She found out that day that September had been one of the people who had completely ignored Mike all while making him look bad. They had both been in the library when they met, standing in line to check out science books. When somebody who had been goofing around behind Mike pushed him, he knocked into the brunette (who was part of the ‘popular clique’) and pushed the books out of his hands.

Turning around with a fierce glare, September recognised Mike from his science and law classes, then picked up his books, looked back to the black haired male and said, “Why don’t you watch where you’re going, Retard? I don’t want to contract your disease. “ After that, whenever Mike tried to say anything, even ‘sorry’, September would only say one word. “Disease.” That eventually went away when they were forced to get along. Didn’t mean when she wasn’t around that they wouldn’t be at eachothers’ throats.

A creak forced Storm from her thoughts, making her look up. Two orange three-toed feet were walking past, the weird ‘ahHaRgHhA’ sound coming from withing the chiken’s beak. She no doubtly had her head to the side, twitching and spazzing out. Just as she thought her luck could get no worse, the bell rang and the lights flickered on. Storm, now sick and tired of this shit, scrambled from her hiding place, flipped off Chica, and ran towards the doors. William with his beautiful red bow that held his equally gorgeous purple hair was just unlcking the door as Storm rushed by. “Fucking fix this,” is all she said before handing the flashlight over.

After a one hour drive to her property in a brand new red comaro (Yeah, she’s rich and is only working for fun, duh. Jk, she’s just working there until Mike quits, which means she and September can quit, and then move onto software design.), the small female ran into her house, changed into some comfy sweats and a t-shirt, then fell into her silky soft bedsheets. As soon as her head hit the pillows, she fell asleep, snuggly and warm.

Storm’s Archive ends here. 

[scrumptiousbeardbasement-blog]

Earlier today I saw a post talking about how music can inspire scenes involving a writer’s OC, oftentimes in quite vivid detail. The post went on to rather humourously illustrate how such scenes can be so fleshed out in our minds while the music is playing, and completely gone by the time we actually sit down and try to write them.

I got a good laugh from this, but I also got a bit of an idea. I haven’t posted much in a while, and technical stuff can be fun to talk about, so I figured why not write about how music fits into my process. 

A quick disclaimer, I have no interest in dictating to other people how they ought to do this or that, and any examples I use as “what not to do” are really examples of “what doesn’t really work for me”. There is no one right way-- and if there is, I certainly haven’t found it.

Anyways, music and writing.

Whenever one medium inspires a certain choice in another, it can be helpful to examine which came first. For example, in my current project, the Making Stupid Work series (the second of which is very nearly done), I started writing long before music played in. The characters of Matt and Ellie Cantor, their situation, the general tone of the books began formulating in my mind on a train-trip from New York to Boston after a failed attempt at pitching my previous work at a writing convention. I had just spent roughly two-and-a-half years pouring my whole life into the Silent God series-- all my time, my ideas, my emotional energy. Everything. And on the train-ride back, it really felt as though the entire project had just culminated in failure. 

I was miserable, I was frustrated, I was-- naturally-- self-doubting. And to be honest, it wasn’t entirely because of my rejection. A lot of the negative feelings I was experiencing during that time came from the nature of the project itself. Silent God, particularly in that earlier incarnation, is a very intense, very “broody” sort of work-- the kind of thing that one kid in your creative writing class who thinks he’s “deeper” than everyone else turns in as a final project. Whether the piece was good or not is an open question, but the overarching point is that it hurt to write. I had characters in serious emotional pain, a twisted version of the pain I had felt in parts of my childhood-- alienation, loneliness, self-hatred. One of the things I learned over the course of the project is that I am bad at writing pain. The only way I know how to do it is to hammer it into the reader, again and again and again, at every opportunity, and in doing so, I just brought it even closer to the surface in myself.

Long story short, I was in a dark place on that train-ride. I considered quitting writing altogether, but I decided to give it one last shot. That last shot was Making Stupid Work. I went into that new project certain about two things; it would start on a train, and I wouldn’t put too much of myself into it. Cheap and cheerful, you know the drill.

And that’s how it started. I sat down in the library-- the next day, in fact-- and within the span of a few hours I had my first chapter. It was sassy, it was silly, it was stupid. I hadn’t been aiming for stupid, but that’s where I ended up-- particularly after what had been my favorite line in the chapter, “perfect, egg-smooth legs stuck out of her dress like a pair of pumpernickel baguettes”, led to exactly none of my early readers taking it seriously.

So I went on and on, writing and writing, aiming for stupid and just trying to get something done that didn’t make me hate myself. Matt Cantor was a goof. Ellie Cantor was a badass. Mum was adorable, at least some of the time. And then THIS happened:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vCXsRoyFRQE

Caravan Palace’s “Wonderland”. It was a strange thing actually, because I had this music shown to me by two completely unrelated people within the span of about two days. Fate? Maybe. All I know is that I listened to it and I loved it and then suddenly one of those people mentioned that this song reminded them of Ellie Cantor. 

Everything changed in an instant. Don’t get me wrong, I had loved Ellie’s character plenty up to that point. She was fun to write, and a lot of my readers felt that she was just as much fun to read. But when I drew the line between Ellie and “Wonderland”, she stopped being just a fun character for Matt to play off of. Now she was a tune. Now she was a rhythm, now she was words. I remember listening to this song one night as I was walking home from work-- headphones jacked into my cell-phone, data-plan screaming in pain-- and thinking to myself that Ellie Cantor was actually the point of all this. I didn’t want her to be scary, I wanted her to be terrifying. I didn’t want her to be cute, or pretty, or hot, I wanted her to be soul-achingly beautiful. I didn’t want her to be clever or smart, I wanted her to be a genious. And most of all, I didn’t want her to be cool; I wanted her to have majesty. I went back and I edited and I edited and I edited and slowly, she started to become all of that, at least for me. The way she spoke, the things she did-- even the rhythm and sound-scape of the text describing her changed. 

Why was this effect so profound? I think part of it can be attributed to the sheer awesomeness of Caravan Palace. Maybe even most of it. But at least a little bit comes from the awesomeness of music itself. What I believe-- the whole point of this article, in fact-- is that music is one of the most powerful factors in establishing a “Cult of Personality”, for both real and fictional people.

My favorite example of this is, nerdily enough, from the video game Destiny-- specifically, the Taken King expansion. The character in question is Oryx (the Taken King), and he’s a pretty interesting guy. Over the course of the story, you bump into him, and he’s scary-looking-ish:

Spooooooopy. But pretty standard sci-fi/cosmic horror fare. He and C’thulu probably play bridge or something. If you read the grimoire about him, the “Book of Sorrows”, we learn a lot more about Oryx, his character starts to really take shape and become compelling. We learn about his childhood, about his loss, his struggle, his fear, his fall. We learn about the sword-logic, about his drive to decide “the ultimate final shape” of the universe, and the cross-galaxy quest he goes on to achieve it, obliterating all that would stand against him. It’s pretty well-written, and gives the character some nice depth. But none of it really hits home until after you’ve read all the stories, and you go back into the game to play some more and you hear this:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a7RBOW1NqHw&t=18s

Holy. Shit. Michael Salvatori, color me impressed. I first heard this song before reading any of the grimoire, while just playing the game itself. But when I heard it again after, when I drew the line between this and Oryx, between this and his story, it stopped being just a story. It became a legend. This song, when I heard it again, did for Oryx exactly what “Wonderland” had done for Ellie Cantor. This wasn’t a monster, this was a god, a creature laying claim to the universe, claiming to be truth itself. Oryx became those blaring horns, those pounding drums, that building sense of dread as you try and try to wriggle out from under the absolute fact that this world-- that all worlds-- run on blood. 

Or maybe Destiny isn’t your cup of tea. Maybe you’re more of a Harry Potter lover. JK Rowling’s text is fantastic, make no mistake. Her depictions are vivid, her plots are scrumptious, her adverbs adverb adverbially. People flocked to her books long before the movies were made-- in fact, the movies were made in part because of all the people flocking to her books. But I think I’m not alone in saying that this song:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1Li0SWlwe34

completely changed the way I read the books. It’s called “Hedwig’s Theme” (which I didn’t actually know until trying to find it for this post), but I would argue that it goes a lot further towards establishing the “Cult of Personality” for the Harry Potter universe as a whole. 

Simple thought experiment. Take two groups of 100 people each who know nothing at all about Harry Potter (how? whatever). Each group reads the first Harry Potter book. Now take one of the groups and play this song for them. Don’t show them the movie-- hell, don’t even show them the movie-poster in the background of this video. The other group, don’t show or play them anything. Now have both groups read book 2. I’m willing to bet that both groups will like it-- love it, even. I’m also willing to bet that the people in the group that heard the song will like it or love it a lot more. This isn’t to say that the book doesn’t work without that music-- of course it does, that’s why the music exists in the first place. But the music does something to that story. It shifts it, or spreads it, perhaps, into a different part of our brains. Harry Potter starts to inhabit a new space, where the mischief and mystery of the world aren’t just words on a page, they’re sounds in our head, bits of flute and clarinet reminding us that there will always be surprises in Hogwarts, around every corner.

Okay, wow, this is getting long. 

My point is that the moment I became really serious about Making Stupid Work-- about making Making Stupid Work work, rather-- was the moment that music came into the mix. Ever since then, the writing has taken on a life of its own, so to speak. It lives in a place a tiny bit outside of my regular self, and all I have to do to get there is slap on my headphones, cue up some Caravan Palace, and jam out.