Improving Strangers Instagram by Lucas Levitan

Lucas Levitan, a Brazilian illustrator based in London, has a wild imagination that seems to invent alternative stories for everything he sees. In an image series that he calls “Photo Invasion,” Levitan invades other Instagram users’ photos with silly, inventive and sometimes awkward illustrations.

holy shit this is my first follow forever and i always wanted to do one and since its the holidays/end of year and because everyones doing one rn  i’d thought id do so too ^ ^

cred to festive tsukki x

bolded are my favs !!

acupeachure/ aroghost/ aromantickenma/ asteroid-child/ basedyamaguchi/ bo0ts/ bparakita/ bpdalluka/ bytewarecatbarrage/ checaria/ chrxllo/ comquter/ cosmogoat/ disgustingdemon/ dorkishima/ foxpng/ furapika/ gurochou/ hinaflower/ httptadashi/ hudaguda/ izumidakin/ jellyfishcore/ jjolynes/ jolymes/ killutxt/ kishigam/ kishiguro/ kuki2/ kurootetsuyas/ kuuderekid/ leafbotllatae/ maidotsuki/ marshmollowfluff/ medlcalmemesoka/ missyachi/ moemura2/ neurodivergent/ nyarancia/ oikawa2/ oisugas/ patema-s/ peniskun/ pissboss/ pitoubot/ plumtxt/ popnographic/ prince-kel/ punkaesthetics/ punkdeers/ realarakita/ rinmatsuolca/ rottinggalaxy/ ryukokiryuuin/ sagittariussexual/ sheepyhorns/ sheroba/ shouyouhlnata/ shsldecoy/ sounds-gay-im-in/ stage2/ sugimotoapologist/ toudoo/ transwizard/ tsookies/ tsukkiin/ tsumik-i/ twinkawaii/ ukejpeg/ unicornprincen/ uv0/ v0ir/ v4iroha/ wockykitakys/ yafuku/ yukne/ yummaguchi

if i forgot you oops message me i guess

title: full house
summary: she swears it’s better this way


she doesn’t admit it in fear of being teased, but sarada swears they aren’t the only ones in the picture. she can feel three more presence trying to squeeze into the shot, and while ninja are trained to be perceptive in their surroundings for threats, this one feels warm and comfortable that she never bothered telling her parents.

also, judging from her parent’s looks; how her mama tries to pat down papa’s hair and how papa tries so hard not to scowl at mama’s attempts, sarada thinks that they don’t feel them at all.

there’s one on her mama’s right. sarada may not see it, but she can feel the warmth radiating from that side, and somehow, it feels like grandmama mebuki whenever she comes over their house only to spoil her. she can’t explain how, but at that moment, she feels like someone is smiling.

there’s another one behind her papa. it feels different compared to the one besides mama, more imposing and commanding, yet he (sarada feels it’s a he) also exudes this familiar sense of security she gets from papa.

but the strongest presence is the one sitting next to her. she’s feels this one more frequently compared to the other two; whenever papa’s not home and on a mission, or when mama’s in the hospital and she’s left alone in the house for a few hours. he only disappears when both her parents are safe and at home, but even then she can sometimes feel him not too far away.

when her mama finally got papa’s hair to go along with the style she wants and asks him to at least face the camera – “okay fine! do it sideways if you’re too scared to face the camera!” – she feels the air suddenly become a little brighter and for a brief moment, she hears a melodious laugh in her ears.

she doesn’t admit it on fear of being teased, but sarada swears the picture feels more complete this way.

UrbanIxD manifesto

This UrbanIxD manifesto is a statement of beliefs about the field of urban interaction design. It represents a synthesis of the project’s work with artists, designers, technologists, social scientists, urbanists, architects and researchers; people who are motivated by a desire to explore how we experience urban living and what that might be like in the near-future.

Were the World Ours (Chapter 4)

Title: Were the World Ours (Chapter 4)

Genre/Rating: Multi-chapter AU; expect a bit of everything; PG for now

Total Word Count: 7641/??                                            

Summary: Year ten theatre nerd Dan finally musters up the courage to try out for his school’s production of Midsummer Night’s Dream. But who is the blue-eyed unknown that’s been mysteriously cast as Puck? 

A/N: Sorry for the wait guys! Chapters should come more regularly from here on out. Oh, and there is interaction in this one! Be excited and let me know what you think! :)

CHAPTERS - OneTwo, Three


The weekend was gone way too fast, as weekends tended to go, but Dan had one definite to look forward to. This week he strode into rehearsal with his shoulders rolled back and his mouth relaxed into an easy smile. There were a few people milling about the auditorium, putting down their bags, chatting, flipping through scripts. Though Dan was tardy to nearly everything else, he got no small sense of satisfaction in seeing that even Ms. Alexis hadn’t arrived yet.

Another quick scan of the room found Carrie sitting cross-legged on the stage. Catching Dan’s eye, she waved him over.

Dan opted to ignore the steps on either end of the stage, but quickly regretted that decision once he tried to vault over the three meters of wooden platform and was left awkwardly straddling its side. There was something to be said for getting to know his performance space, but this was excessive. He swung his leg over and half-crawled the few feet to Carrie’s side.

“Happy Monday!” she chirped, giggling at him a bit. “Have a nice weekend?”

“What could possibly be happy about Mondays?” Dan was a little bit winded to be honest, and grateful that she wasn’t commenting. “But yeah, mostly uneventful, you?”

His weekend had been spent drowning in Mario Kart, coming up for air every so often to stuff his face with candy and crisps until the typical Sunday night homework frenzy. Friday had been more eventful by far. Arguing with Carrie that Macbeth was absolutely crazier than Hamlet. Analise suggesting Lear as a solid third contender. Chris adding that “Goneril” was ripe for a baby names comeback. Letting Analise steal his chips.

Read More


bennett sat on the cold ground, staring towards the
headstone that read ‘amelia kirkland, loving friend,
daughter and sister. december 19th 2002 — may
5th 2011.’ he did this at least once every few months,
he would sit by her grave and just talk to her for hours
about his life. people would occasionally spare him
sympathetic looks as they walk past and watch him
replace the pink roses beside where she lay.

anonymous asked:

Oh okay. Sorry to bothe you Sofia. I asked you to do the follow forever post because I just joined tumblr and I'm obsessed with Olicity and I love your blog and I wanted to know who to follow. Sorry again! Could you give me a few good starting blogs to follow? like 10+ no explaination would be needed. Please?

Oh Nonnie! You’re so cute! Thank you. Welcome to the Fandom! Prepare for your soul to be crushed and you hopes to be shattered! You’re gonna love it.

Okay, this is just for you, because you’re so damn adorable!
















Okay, here are 15 bloody amazing ones. There are so many more which I will include in detail in my follow forever post, but these are my absolute faves! Good luck anon! You’ll need it.

princekurlozmakara replied to your post: davesprite replied to your post: woah …

it’s like you have to agree with everything a character does to like them otherwise you are WRONG and you aren’t a TRU FAN lmao

Yes!! Characters can be great and have flaws at the same time and it doesn’t do any good to ignore the aspects that are “unlikeable”

12 Days of Christmas: Day 8 - Card Writing

Author: Anna

Title: Day 8 – Card Writing

Paring: Crowley/Reader

Character/s: Crowley

Word Count: 664 words

Warnings/Tags: Established relationship with Crowley, possible OOCness, fluff, no smuttiness in this one, just a bit of adorableness.

Prompt: On the eighth day of Christmas, that bitch Fate gave to you, eight difficult family members card, seven Doctor Who seasons watched, six different cultures, five parcels sent, four broken decorations, three hours shopping, two issues sorted and one argument over Christmas Day.

Notes: The eighth instalment of the Twelve Days of Christmas Crowley/Reader request!.

Your Name: submit What is this?

Day 8 – Card Writing

Dear Marie, Sylvia and Jono,

Dear Maggie and Sarah,

Dear Daniel and Jarod,

“Bloody hell!” You shout, throwing yet another balled up piece of paper into the overflowing garbage tin, different names written in different brightly and sparkly and scented pens, the latest joining the group read ‘Dear Sam and Dean,’.

“Having a spot of trouble, luv?” Crowley asks from his spot on the floor, currently on gift wrapping duty.

It had to have been the most adorable thing you’d ever seen. Crowley, in all his King of Hell magnificence, sitting cross-legged on your crappy, London-apartment carpet surrounded in gifts and Christmas-themed wrapping paper, pieces of sticky tape stuck to his forearms and rolled up sleeves, his tie, waistcoat and jacket all in the other room and the top four of his buttons undone, giving you a peak of his amazing tattoos. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“Struggling with the last eight of my family members. Hate writing Christmas cards.” You mutter, mostly to yourself, grabbing a new sheet of paper.

“We could switch, poppet.” He offers, making a move to stand up, pieces of green and red ribbon and colourful homemade bows that look way better than anything an arts and crafts shop could offer fall to the ground.

“No. If you write in these cards, God knows what’ll make it’s slimy way into them.” You tease, standing to brush your nose against his in an affectionate eskimo kiss.

“I thought we agreed not to bring the big man upstairs into our bedroom.” He mutters before claiming your lips in a passionate kiss, your tongues instantly falling back into an all-to-familiar dance, arms loosely wrapped around your waist and yours around his neck. “And slimy? Y/N, my love, I’m not that cruel.”

“Who said anything about cruel?” You ask, leaning back in his embrace. “Crowley, my darling King of Hell, you have done way worse.”

“But I wouldn’t to your family, no matter how much you dislike them.” He vows.

“And no matter how much I beg?” You add, to which you just get an amused look. “I must admit though, there is nothing more frightening than seeing the King of Hell making bows and wrapping gifts.” You nod towards the already wrapped and tagged gifts by your dodgy Christmas tree, the two somehow complementing each other even though they are vastly different. “Where the hell did you learn to do that?”

“I was a tailor once, pet.” He reminds you. “You learn all sorts of useful skills when you’re a tailor.” He purrs. You smile up at him.

“Yeah, like how to make me a dress appropriate for lunch next week?” You ask only half-jokingly. His gaze glides over your body, eyes slightly glazed over as he starts to mentally prep your new dress.

“I can do if that’s what you want.” He offers.

“Would I have to trade my soul?” You tease, stepping closer to him.

“For you? I’d do it simply for a kiss.”

“And how do I know that the kiss wouldn’t take my soul away?”

“Well then, I’d guess you’d just have to trust me.”

“Trust a demon?! Not very hunterly of me.”

“Oh, trust me dove, I’m a very trustworthy demon. A king never backs down on his word.” You smile.

“And that’s what got you in this predicament.” You bop his noise playfully before looking back at the massive basket of scrapped Christmas messages. “I’ll think of something.” You finally decide, turning back to him. “How many gifts have you got left?”

“Five.” He murmurs before you press yourself against him, your lips meeting for a chaste kiss.

“I feel like going out tonight for dinner.” You eye the clock. Half past six. “New place just opened down the street, wanna come with? If you do, it’s jeans and a shirt, no bloody suit, no matter how sexy it is.” He smiles as he unbuttons up his shirt.

“Of course luv.”

Request Another Part

anonymous asked:

(urgent) I'm an INTJ and it's becoming more and more difficult for me for to interact with other, even said "hello" don't come naturally. I avoid eyes contact all the time, i talk very softly (i know i do but i'm still unable to talk louder), and often slurred my speech. I live on my own. I'm also extremely stressed. Do other INTJ are related to this?

This one goes out to you guys again! Leave a comment if you can relate!

Also: I’d like to give you this link leading you to my social anxiety tag. It might provide you with some useful tips.