fit flops

Day One Hundred and Fourteen

-For reasons unknown, a woman decided to hurl an insult at her daughter. The daughter crumbled before me, completely shattered by the words her mother chose. I never knew how powerful the phrase “nasty grape” could be until this moment.

-I have found that we are stocking prom-style dresses for young girls, so that when big sister is getting fancied up, they can join in the fun. Few concepts this pure have ever existed.

-I followed a trail of CDs through the store, ranging from G-Eazy in the boys section to Queen and Prince in girls. After this, the trail went cold. This being said, I will pursue this case until my dying day. I will not rest until I have my answers.

-I would like to personally and sincerely thank the parent who left a half-empty juice pouch strewn across a shelf of clothing. Were it not for you, mysterious caretaker, I would never have such a solid grasp on the extent of the evils of man. 

-As tends to happen, another shift in softlines has exposed me to the greatest clothing line ever composed: Dr. Seuss for toddlers. If anyone with the proper capabilities is reading this, I am fully prepared to give four feet of my height to make this my wardrobe.

-What I heard: stampeding zebras coming my way. What I saw: a mother-daughter pair in ill-fitting flip-flops. What I felt: disappointed.

-I found a shirt in the infants department sporting a solar system centered around a pup in a spaceship. To top it all off and cement it as a tangible vision of my soul, the entire thing was glow-in-the-dark. I am once again wishing to lose three-quarters of my height.

-A child discovered the magnificent wonders of paying with cash. Upon realizing that if you hand a cashier money, you will be given back your purchase AND more money, this youngster’s life has been irrevocably changed for the better.

-A man came through my lane, his arms full of joy and happiness. In one, a sweet newborn rested; upon the other, a tattoo reading “4:20.”

hi everyone !!! so me n camille @galaxydnp have decided to host a self improvement meetup !!

what it is:

  • a time to express how u have improved urself so far this year 
    • art
    • writing
    • music
    • sports
    • mental health
    • appearance
    • blog
    • anything bab !! u can do multiple of these at once too ofc !!!!
  • a way to spread positivity and encourage others to keep growing
  • basically, sweet validation of ur self development

how to participate:

  • reblog this so it doesn’t flop lol
  • post a selfie, drawing, textpost, anything
  • under #self improvement phandom meetup and #phandom meetup 
  • no h8ers tolerated

when and where:

  • saturday, june third
  • 11 am pst / 2 pm est / 6 pm gmt
  • if ure not in any of those google can convert it for ya

thanks to everyone who participates and/or reblogs ! we r very excited :’)

anonymous asked:

If you were in the BB house who in the tag would you align with? Showmance? Rival?

Okay so the cast of 16 would be

@dumbeatrees @slutforbb @huntyhex @jackie-ibarras @audreysusbb17 @bblunatic @sexologii @versacethotty @keeshasmxth @matthewxclines @matthewdaddyclines @lickeyrogers-wong @sirdippinghotsauce @theparttimemisanthrope @spunkyspy and me 

then let’s pretend that this season has the same bb19 twist that let a vet come back into the house if you press a button, and that vet is @shaolinbynature

@matthewxclines  would be the first to press the button and win the money while getting away with it and @theparttimemisanthrope @audreysusbb17 @bblunatic would be the three nominees with @theparttimemisanthrope being the first evicted for being very aloof. 

@shaolinbynature , the vet, would replace him and the entire house will fall in love with her because of her strong social game and performance in the previous season. They would love her so much so that all of the alliances formed, would be formed revolving her. 

here’s how the alliances would form:

everyone else would be either a floater or coaster and absolutely every single person would be up @shaolinbynature ‘s ass (probably even me) and everyone who notices gets evicted.  

If I were to win HOH I would try to split up that @spunkyspy and @lickeyrogers-wong  duo because even though I like them a lot, this is a game and they’re a cunning threat in the way of me winning the $500k 

personalities of my parents’ 13 llamas

so I guess this needs a little background context first. my sister and I both moved out to college, and our parents had an empty nest crisis, so Dad bought Mom 8 llamas for their 26th anniversary, decided that wasn’t enough, and bought 4 more a few days later. 

you know, like there’s the gold anniversary and the silver one and even paper. well. the 26th anniversary is the llama one where u must buy ur significant other at least one (1) llama. do it. trust me. my dad hasn’t been divorced yet, so it’s totally cool

Freddie: sweet gentle boy. loves to give u kisses. all you have to do is stand still and he’ll walk over to sniff at you for a moment, then he’ll press his lips to your cheek and kind of huff air on you. sometimes there’s a little bit of snot, but the moment is too Precious for that to be important

Herb: the twin brother of Freddie. they both look like deer because they have that soft brown and white coloring. Herb is the grumpy one, very skittish. lingers at the edge of the herd and glares when you pet Freddie. doesn’t want to be petted himself but still jealous of his brother?? make up ur mind, Herb

Jet: The Asshole. if human, would be that one bully in all the early 2000s high school teen movies. there’s a hill of dirt built up in the field and he likes to stand on top of the hill and spit at all of the other llamas when they come near. one time Fatima totally kicked his ass tho, it was great. now he’s scared of her but tries to play it cool

Tarzan: Jet’s co-bully. like, how all bullies need a following of other, smaller bullies to back their bullshit up? that’s Tarzan. not big enough to be an asshole in his own right, but will team up with Jet to spit at the other llamas. dumbass who ate sawdust one time when my dad used a buzz saw to cut down trees. this bright star immediately started licking the sawdust off the ground. I tried to make him stop bc I was worried it might be bad for him? somehow?? but then he spit at me, so he can fucking choke tbh

Stanley: real fucking dumb, but we love him anyway. always tries to escape out the gate, but then doesn’t go anywhere once he makes it into the yard. each time he seems surprised to end up in the yard. will run away if you try to herd him back through the gate, but if you just leave him alone for 15 minutes, he’ll get bored and lonely, and cry to be let back into the field

Coy: my poor sweet baby. he was going to be sold to the slaughterhouse before Dad bought him, so he’s shaved all the way up to his head. he looks naked and honestly pretty weird. no fur at all until his head, where it suddenly poofs out like a bad perm. gets picked on by Jet and Tarzan, stands in the pond to get away from them bc they’re scared of the water

Clyde: a gelding. that means his flip-flop bits have been snip-snipped. so Dad put him on the half of our land with the girl llamas bc he knew Clyde wouldn’t bother them. then Dad changed his mind and put Clyde in with the boys, and Clyde threw a FIT. he would dramatically flop down on the ground and pretend to be dead, until the herd moved away, and then he would get up, walk over to the new grazing spot, and throw himself back down just to be sure everyone knew he was STILL upset. our neighbors kept calling us to let us know we had a “dead llama” in our field, and we’re like no, that’s just Clyde. finally Dad gave in and put Clyde back with the girls and now he’s happy and cut that melodramatic shit out

Fatima: boss-lady of the girl llamas. the llamas have to be separated by gender bc we found out the hard way that they WILL get pregnant, but Fatima specifically can’t be let near the boy llamas bc she will fuck them up. llamas have really long necks, u know? so she’ll whip her neck against the boy llamas to bash their fucking faces in and lean down to try to literally BITE THEIR DICKS OFF, and with her long ass Alpha Neck, she almost got Jet, my dad literally had to check his junk for injuries, wild times on the farm

Charlene: Fatima’s gal pal™. the two don’t like to be separated, and Charlene will cry if it happens. ever heard a crying llama? it’s terrible. otherwise a good girl, doesn’t spit on anyone. that’s high praise for a llama. if human, would probably be a really nervous femme librarian or something

Bridget: the only one who acts like a Normal Llama. I don’t even have any stories for her. she just chills and eats grass like she’s fucking supposed to. but I went to high school with a girl named Bridget who told me–in detail and unprompted–about the time she gave her mom’s dog a foot job, so now I’m suspicious of all Bridgets just because that story was so traumatizing

Margaret: the mother of Peaches, which is how the total llama count ended up at 13 and not 12, in case you were wondering. who’s the father? shit, we’d have to call Jerry Springer down to sort out that mess. the only llama we can safely rule out is Clyde. otherwise, it could be any of the boys. honestly, 60% of the decision to separate the llamas was bc we were sick of seeing Mags get dicked down all day everyday. now she’s grumpy and doesn’t seem to understand why there’s this mini-llama following her around

Jane: stepped up to be Peaches’s real mom. herds her around and won’t let anyone else near her baby. really chill otherwise, but will drag a motherfucker who so much as sneeze-farts in Peaches’s direction. hates our dog Winston. spits at him all the time and has pretty good aim

Peaches: Good. Pure. adds two years to my life every time she looks at me. feeding her is risky bc Jane will spit at u, but she likes banana peels and orange peels. very small and still doesn’t quite understand how her legs work. Winston isn’t allowed near her because he thinks it’s fun to chase her, and Jane thinks it’s fun to stomp him into the fucking ground

bonus! Winston: fucking rude. dogs lick people as like, a sign of respect. you are the alpha and I am your dog and I love you. not Winston. he has literally never licked any of us. the son my dad always wanted, so he’s spoiled as shit too. he has a limp in his hind leg, and he’ll lean his butt against you so he doesn’t have to support his weight anymore. just shove his whole butt against you. very picky about who pets him for no goddamn reason. sometimes decides he ONLY wants to be petted by Mom and then will bug her for pettings and paw at her and press his nasty ass against her until she gives in, but if someone else tries to pet him, he’ll stare at them and not wag his tail and sometimes literally bat your hand away with his paw. the rudest dog in existence

Jetlag || Joe Sugg

Originally posted by luminescent-jaspar

Requests are currently [ OPEN ]

Masterlist can be found [ HERE ]

Word Count: 1.2k+

A/N: it’s been a little while and for that i apologise but nonetheless, i hope you enjoy this lil fluffy imagine that i wrote this evening after realising how long it’d been since i posted. enjoy!!xo

The first day of VidCon, in your opinion, was always the most eventful. From the confusion as to whose hotel rooms were located where, to the mess of YouTuber’s crowding the hallways of the building, all huddled into little groups, catching up with their friends and not realizing the delay they were causing.

You’d arrived a little later than everyone else, seeing as you had prior arrangements at home that made it impossible for you to be in America for the first day of the event; which, honestly, wasn’t the worst thing in the world. It just meant you missed out on all of the chaos.

You arrived at the hotel, avoiding any form of human contact until you’d managed to get your room key and take a shower, an absolute must after a long haul flight. You’d planned ahead, unlike the majority of your friends, and had booked your hotel room way in advance; which gave you the opportunity to choose what style, the size, and the floor that you’d be staying on.

And so, overjoyed with your single room that was the perfect fit for you, you flop down onto the bed, wiping a bead of sweat away from your eyebrow and staring up at the ceiling, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you thought about how many of your friends you’d finally be able to catch up with over the weekend.

Rolling onto your stomach, you pick up your phone from the spot on the bed where you’d discarded it the moment you walked through the door, forcing yourself to focus on unpacking and washing up before you’d let anything else distract you.

Taking to Twitter, you decide that your first priority was to let your fans know that you’d landed safely and had arrived back at your hotel, a small tradition you had with them. You send out the tweet, amusing yourself and managing to disgust everyone else at the unnecessary amount of emoji’s you used, and proceed to get lost in your timeline, mindlessly scrolling and not even thinking about the fact that you perhaps should’ve been tracking down your friends and spending every moment you could with them before you inevitably had to leave once again.

It was only when you rolled over once again and your eyes landed on the digital alarm clock, did the amount of time that you’d spent mindlessly browsing your social media apps sink in. You groan, throwing your head back against the sheets and locking your screen, tossing the device to your side and clenching your eyes shut. The jetlag was creeping up on you from every direction, and as much as you forced yourself to deny it, the way your limbs ached and your eyes burned were a dead giveaway.

It was already almost ten pm, and given, you’d landed quite late into the evening and hadn’t expected to be able to do that much with your time, and only really mentally prepared yourself for seeing a few of your friends before retiring to your room and sleeping for as long as humanly possible in a bid to relieve yourself of the horrendous achy feeling that came hand in hand with flying for over twelve hours at a time.

You contemplated your options, really only having a few. Number one, you could just risk it and message everyone whom may have been around the hotel, and then have a small reunion. But you were way too exhausted for that. Second, you could just fall asleep now, and brace the wrath of your friends in the morning, blaming the fact that you hadn’t even said hello to one of them on your insane jetlag.

The third option was tempting, and sounded so much more pleasing than the others. You purse your lips before sitting up, tucking your legs underneath your body and picking up your phone, chewing on your bottom lip and pulling up the text log of the one boy in particular whom you’d been desperate to see for a bloody long time.

The short text message you crafted included your room number, and a few more kisses than normal, but you were so excited to finally be able to see him again. You sit on your legs, nervously shuffling around and waiting for a response, staring down at your screen and watching in anticipation as the ‘delivered’ symbol changed to ‘read’.

The message you received back no more than two seconds later, made you smile widely. It was short and straight to the point, telling you that he’d be there in two minutes and he’d bring snacks. The idea of food made you moan in happiness, suddenly thinking back to the last time you’d actually eaten properly, which for sure hadn’t been on the plane.

The plane food incident was a story in itself.

Time flew by, and before you knew it, there were three knocks on the door, and you stared at it for a moment, before hearing a foot bash against the bottom, causing you to unstiffen and grin widely. You stumble up from your position on the bed, running over to the door and swinging it open, throwing yourself into his arms without a second of hesitation, wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him tighter than you thought was humanly possible.

He swoops you off of your feet, his arms wrapped tightly around you as he hugged you to his chest, only placing you back onto your feet when you’d done a full three-sixty spin in the air. Eyes wide, you look up into his eyes, only managing to do so for a few seconds before you wrapped your arms around his torso, pressing your cheek against his cotton muscle top and mumbling incoherently.

He chuckles, pushing one hand through the length of your hair and using the other to trace random patterns into your arm as you remained pressed up against his chest. “You wanna have some traditional jet-lag cuddles and eat some junk food and then sleep for twelve hours?” He asks, his voice soft as he looks down at you, a small smile on his face.

You pull your head away from his chest, looking up at him sleepily and nodding. “Mhm; yes please.”

“C'mon then, princess.” He mumbles quietly, throwing his arm around your shoulders and tugging you into the hotel room, kicking the door shut and proceeding to spend the rest of the night with his body entwined with yours, his chin resting on the top of your head as you slept.

The way his lips had brushed against yours meant a conversation would be in order; but after a pregnant pause, and your eyes had interlocked with his, in that moment, words weren’t needed. Instead, you sunk back into his arms, and fell asleep within a matter of minutes, mutually deciding that the discussion would wait until the morning.

More fanart for the Pride film as promised! There are so many important people! I’m posting a rather large image so you can see everybody. (And so you can appreciate all the bloody effort I spent on those t-shirts.)

anonymous asked:

Hey lovely I've had an idea bouncing around my noggin lately.. What about an angsty bughead fic where Juggy gets concerned that Betty's going to hurt herself like Polly? I don't know why, maybe she did or something.. Just a thought.. Love your writing! ❤

I’ve gotten a lot of angsty requests lately and I’m actually really enjoying writing them! Thank you so much!

He was scared. Jughead jones was actually so terrified, he found it difficult to focus on anything, including his novel.

It wasn’t the “I’m gonna fail my history test” type of scared, it was more “I’m losing the one person in this world who really matters to me.” Type of scared

Betty was falling. No one seemed to notice but him, but what he was seeing was enough to scare even the toughest socially awkward teenager.

Everyday, the bags under her eyes would get darker, her palms were almost always bloody, and he hadn’t seen her laugh in almost a month, and then their was tonight.

The gang had been having a late night study session, when they brought up the upcoming midterm Veronica had jokingly said

“It’s pretty much the end of our lives if we fail the calculus midterm, right bets?”

Betty’s eyes became glossier than normal and she nodded

“Yeah totally, the end of my life.”

Jughead stared at her for a little but Betty didn’t meet his eyes, she kept her face towards the window, staring blankly outside.

While he was walking her home she had turned to him

“Thank you Jughead, you’re my best friend, you’ve been so great through everything, I’m really proud of you, I want you to know that. ”

His heart race sped up.

“Why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye?”

She smiled sadly

“Because I’m going inside.”


“Bye juggie”

Then the door had slammed, echoing through his ears.

He had gone home and hadn’t done a single thing but think about the beautiful blonde angel.

This wasn’t doing him any good, grabbing his beanie he was out the door, fast as he came in.

Before he knew it, he was standing under Betty’s window. He was not athletic, and he most definitely should have thought this through, considering the only way in, required climbing a tree and sliding through the window.

“Okay jones, you got this.”

After about twelve failed attempts to mount the tree, he finally made it to the top, balancing on the tree and sliding in through the window.

There was betty, laying on her bed, eyes closed with her ear buds in her ears.

Beside her bed was an orange pill bottle and he immediately snatched it from the dresser, effectively grabbing her attention, she jumped up knocking her her earbuds out.

“Jughead?! What are you doing in here? How did you get in here?! Did you climb that tree?!” She said in a panicky ramble, eyes wide.

“I ask the questions here! Why is this pill bottle by your bed, what are you doing with all of these ?”

She looked at him confused

“Jughead, those are my sleeping pills, why do you care about those?”

He shook his head

“ you don’t need to sleep! You need to stay alive! You can’t die Betty, the gang needs you! I need you. I’m sorry I haven’t been there, I didn’t know what to do.. it’s my fault, I’m just so emotionally stunted.” He was rambling and Betty cut him off

“ woah woah woah! Die? Who said anything about dying? I need those pills because I have nightmares. I’m depressed Jughead not suicidal.” She said softly.

“Isn’t depression just a gateway to suicide?” He asked panicky.

She grabbed his hand and sat him down on her bed

“Sometimes that is the case, but I’m getting help. I don’t wanna kill myself, I’m just tired almost all the time, and I find it difficult to focus. I know I haven’t been much fun to hang out with and I’m sorry, but I’m working on getting better. Actually talking to you about all this, makes me feel a little better.” She smiled at him.

Releasing the breath he was holding

“So you don’t plan on leaving the earth anytime soon?”

She laughed

“Nope Jughead, you’re stuck with me for as long as the good lord sees fit.”

Flopping back on her bed he sighed

“Thank god.”

She Layed down beside him

“So you need me huh?”

He closed his eyes

“More than you’ll ever know Betty Cooper”

Just A Cold [SFW]


Yuuri’s in bed with a cold, and Viktor insists on taking care of him.

(Enjoy! ~M❤)

“Viktor, you really don’t need to–” Yuuri’s words were cut off by a coughing fit as his body flopped weakly back onto the mattress.

“Please try to relax, love. It’ll only get worse if you strain yourself,” Viktor said as he seated himself on the edge of the bed next to the younger man, placing a tray he’d been carrying on the nightstand. He reached out to one of the bowls on the tray to pull out a small towel, which had been soaking in warm water. After ringing it out, he gently swept Yuuri’s bangs–slightly damp with sweat–out of the way and placed the towel on his forehead.

Yuuri sniffled as he reluctantly settled back into the bed. “But I don’t want you to get sick because of me,” he pouted.

“I’ll be fine,” Viktor assured him. “I want to take care of you.” He smiled tenderly at his sickly lover, whose face was flushed and eyes were puffy from his cold. “Besides, you’re cute like this.”

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Lovers Quarrel

A/N: Bungou Stray Dogs (Soukoku) -  1. “I want to hate you. I should hate you.” - Omg this fic XDD well. It is very intense lololol. Brace yourselves for the tickle war of a lifetime :”)) I don’t even know why I had this idea. I just thought Soukoku would be the kind of ship where everything extreme. And then I really mean EXTREME

[part of this fic was written when I was totally tipsy last night huehue I should do more tipsy-writing] Big thanks @ticklygiggles for proofreading /)///(\

Summary: On a peaceful Saturday morning, Chuuya takes Dazai out grocery shopping and it turns out into the biggest chaos ever- reminding Chuuya why actually he should just leave Dazai at home, and that their lovers quarrels are definitely not meant to be taken outdoors. Definitely not.

Word Count: 2614

“And why did I have to come with you again?” Dazai groaned lazily and squirmed in the passenger seat, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in.

“Because you will sleep all day if I’d leave you at home and that frustrates me to death,” was Chuuya’s salty reply while he kept his eyes on the road. Dazai scoffed and stretched out.

“But I’m tired,” he whined, yawning and rubbing his eyes.

“Anyone would be after staying up the fucking night looking up romantic suicide methods,” his grumpy boyfriend growled. Well, that was true. 

“And no we are not gonna do it dammit, you psycho!” Chuuya yelled when Dazai tried to bring that up again, and he steered violently and Dazai was thrown against the door on his side and he whined in protest. 

“Well you are gonna kill us if you keep driving like that Chuu,” Dazai said teasingly, casually returning in his sitting position as if he hadn’t been falling to the side uncharmingly.

“Shut up! I’m driving like a gentleman!” Dazai chuckled when Chuuya yelled this because the red head had bright red cheeks and he looked like a madman driving their car.

“Oh right you are.” Chuuya tensed up when Dazai was sneaky enough to reach out and creep his fingers up Chuuya’s side.

“I swear, don’t you –” Chuuya accidentally honked when Dazai suddenly dove at him, both hands aimed at his sides and Chuuya hysterically shrieked and pulled the steering wheel wildly.

“FUHuhuck Dazai!” Chuuya nearly jumped and bounced in his seat, his tiny body squirming in the driver’s seat while he did his best to keep the car on the road. Dazai smirked when Chuuya toppled forward, almost leaning on the steering wheel while his body shook with giggles. 

A traffic light; Dazai’s big chance. He lunged even more towards his smaller boyfriend and grabbed both his sides, groping and fondling his tender body and sneaking his fingers up his ribs where he knew the guy was hella ticklish.

“STOh-stahahap! Dazai I s-swear! I’m gonna kihihill you!” Chuuya squirmed and slapped around, shrieking when the light turned to green and as a reflex he stepped on the gas. There they went, with a ticklish driver getting it from his retarded lover. 

“Don’t you get it Chuuya? I’m angry. Even after dating me all this time, you still don’t understand what I see in the beauty of suicide. You just-” Dazai wiggled his fingers down Chuuya’s body and the poor guy screeched.

“Don’t - get - it. It makes me want to fuck you up.” His tickling grew more violent. He wasn’t afraid of death or accidents because they’d had harder things to deal with in their lives. Besides, Chuuya was one of the better drivers he ever met in his whole life. He could take it. 

And he wasn’t wrong. Sure they missed a few red lights after that, they got a lot of cars scolding them for the hysterical driving style with loud and furious honks, they even drove a little part over a grass lane but all was fine when they came to a halt with squealing tires - slightly hitting one of the cars that stood parked there. Only then, Dazai finally stopped.

Chuuya huffed, his hands still clenching the steering wheel, and he lowered his head while he caught his breath. 

“I want to hate you. I should hate you,” Chuuya muttered, panting and looking up at him and raising one trembling hand to point at him as he took a deep shakey breath before answering his frustrations.

“Because it’s still fucking insane. Why die when we can live together?!” Chuuya kicked open his door and stepped out of the car, avoiding the glances of concerned passengers, and making his way into the supermarket. 

Yes, supermarket. This was all because of doing the fucking groceries on a peaceful Saturday morning. Dazai sighed and followed him, still feeling as vengeful as ever.

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Just Pokémon Go Teams
  • Valor: Polo shirts, gym shorts, Sneakers, beanbag chairs, chimichangas, lemonade, summer weather, hugs and high fives, smell of cinnamon, "winging it"
  • Mystic: all the collared shirts, khakis/capris, nice shoes, lounge chairs, home-cooked meals, water, spring/winter weather, nods and lots of smiles, smell of citrus, mostly prepared.. Mostly
  • Instinct: T-shirts, Anything that fits, flip-flops, Hot Pockets, swings, soda, all the seasons, fist bumps and cheers, smell of vanilla, panic until it gets done

Hey~ I made a lil Markhyuck video about how would they sing Alec Benjamin’s song “The water fountain”
Maybe it’s not a very known song and this is a very weird idea hahaha, but who knows? i thought alec’s voice fitted with them so.. if it fits it sits sings (?
(if you’re interested in this please check it out, i’m thanking you beforehand c;)