glue shirt

*clears throat* 

We need to talk about Hinny engaging in PDA

  • So their first kiss Harry’s just caught up in the moment, he doesn’t stop to think long enough to be embarrassed
  • this is a total one off the silly is so scared of Ron that Ginny has to initiate EVERYTHING they do when they aren’t on their own
  • Even holding hands
  • Ginny has zero qualms about PDA
  • she has an awesome bf and he is HERS and she is more than happy to remind any/everybody about this fact
  • Even her brothers
  • Especially her brothers
  • Ron won’t leave her alone about something?  She literally grabs Harry by the front of his shirt and glues her lips to his
  • “Sorry Ron I can’t really talk right now”
  • Naturally Harry is terrified by this behavior
  • “Ginny we can’t continue to date if I am DEAD because your brothers have MURDERED me”
  • But of course he secretly loves that Ginny is so proud of their relationship
  • And gradually, as the magically enlarged slugs Fred and George promised continue to not show up in his bed, Harry gets more comfortable holding hands kissing picking Ginny up and physically putting her on his lap
  • It’s soon his go-to form of revenge when Ron and Hermione make him feel like a third wheel
  • Or when he sees some bloke hitting on Ginny at the Leaky Cauldron
  • They’re famous among the Harpies for their post-match celebration
  • They become the parents whose kids are embarrassed by them LITERALLY ALL THE TIME because “Dad you’re too old to be kissing Mum like that in public!”
  • And Harry is normally a very private person, but he doesn’t mind everybody knowing how much he loves Ginny
  • Hinny PDA literally all the time because they’re both so happy that this adorable doofus is theirs and they want everyone to know

anonymous asked:

Love your blog 😍😍😍 I want to do those diy-things, but never was motivated enough 😧😧

Hey, thanks so much!! 

If it helps, here are some super simple tutorials that you could!

DIY Cat Beanie

Felt + Glue + Beanie

DIY Crop Top

T-Shirt + Scissors

DIY Dish Soap Putty

Dish Soap + Corn Starch

DIY Origami Jumping Frogs


sew-much-to-do: a visual collection of sewing tutorials/patterns, knitting, diy, crafts, recipes, etc.

If you enjoy my blog and would like to support me further, my Amazon Wish List is available here!

Below gravity

Originally posted by lethargicmin

Warnings: Who says you sex is something gravity bound? You and Jimin are going to be up in the sky for a long time and every minute counts.

I pull my suitcase across the aisle, walking pass thousands of sparkling cosmetic stores and souvenir shops. This is my home field, where I can stride my legs widely without a slight worry that my seven-inches-heels would betray me any second; where people looks at me with the eye of admiration then whisper among each other’ where airplanes meet and the world is connected, the airport. You might have seen me before, asking you if you want coffee or tea to drink when we make our ways through layers of clouds that you’ve always thought of as cotton candy, or maybe you’ve seen me in a random group of flight attendants walking from terminal 1 to terminal 3. I am that girl with a perfect ballet bun and red lipstick, always pulling off the black vest, red scarf, and pencil skirt. But have you ever seen me hand-in-hand with a guy? Probably not.

When was the last time I actually went out on a one-on-one date with a guy? Six months? A year ago? Or maybe in university? I can’t even recall the history of my romantic life. But whenever I think about it, it seems to make so much sense that sometimes I even chuckle out of nowhere. Their lives are always below my feet and out of my sight, thus make me too far away from their reach, literally. I shake my head and walk faster. Where are we going this time? Seoul.

I arrive at terminal 1, gate D5. Today I will be serving the business class so here I am, looking through the class of the luxurious waiting loft to take a peek of my customers. The smell of expectation gives me goosebumps. Suit and ties and shiny briefcases, they scream into my face, warning me to prepare my best customer service. Suddenly, a young gentleman glances up at me. His eyes shoot bullet gazes while I’m completely unarmed and exposed to his attack. He leans back in the leather armchair, fixing his coral blue tie. I stand there, focusing on nothing else but trying to control my heart rate. My eyes are glued to his bony fingers. They hook on the knot of his tie, wriggling left and right. I can imagine the rest under my skin. The smirk and the light headshake afterwards is something I should not have seen, if only I’ve known better.




I stand by the entrance door to the plane. As people climb up the stairs to enter the airplane, I nod, smile and repeat. Some brightly greet me, some nod back professionally while others don’t even look into my face. I’ve gotten used to this: the fact that I can’t even have zero emotions for being ignored because I always have to be happy.

“Welcome.” He, the young man with the coral blue tie, is standing right in front of me, inches away from my face. My lips twitch when I recall the fire from his eyes, the veins hidden under the collar of his white shirt that came out when he fixed his tie and even the smirk from earlier. Yet he turns right, walking down to the long aisle between the seats. He stops at number 5 and sits down after arranging his luggage. What am I supposed to be doing again? Oh right. Nod. Smile. Repeat.

The plane takes off after a long run, spinning its wheels until gravity can’t hold it anymore. Houses and cars shrink gradually until they look like a lego masterpiece. They stack on each other neatly and everything else become green and brown. We fly higher than the clouds so the only thing above us is the blue sky. I walk down the aisle, carrying my checklist that has every passenger’s name. Seat number 5 belongs to Park Jimin, the guy whom I have not been able to take my eyes off since this plane departed. I meet his eyes once or twice every ten minutes. It’s that sensation of being seen through that irritates me and how I find it oddly attractive. It makes me want to jump off the plane and somehow escape from this suffocation, if only the clouds would catch me from free falling.


The light above Jimin’s head turns yellow, requesting help from the flight attendants. I muster up my courage and approach, like moth has finally found her source of light and can’t care less if she’s diving into her own death. My heart beats louder than the engine of the plane when it’s taking off from the ground. I try to walk elegant and casual but end up sliding in a zig zag like a squid. For him, he looks more and more breath-taking as I step closer.

“What can I help you with, sir?” I stand straight. My legs are too close to his hand to back out.

“Can I have another cup of water, please?” I can feel his fingers brush softly against the thin stockings covering my thighs. Everyone else around is sleeping, only a few lights at the back are on for the passengers who are reading or working.

“Yes… Yes, sir.” He moves up to the hem of my skirt without any hesitation, making me blush so hard that I have to run away quickly. I pour water into the glass as my head knocks on the wall. My lungs vent heavily. I’m not so sure what just happened, but it felt good, it felt right.

The water keeps crashing on the glass as I walk out. He closes his book as he notices me approaching. I carefully bend down, placing the glass of water on the tray. His breath blows the strands of my hair that stick out from the side. He smells like cinnamon and fresh wood, making me feel like I’ve been losing my mind while wandering inside wonderland. I quickly stand up, invisibly slapping myself out of the stupid fantasy. As I turn around and leave, I feel a grope on my ass cheek, gently squeezing harder each second.

“Thank you.”

I can’t turn around and look, not with my panties starting to soak up and wet my stockings. Jimin knows I like this, because if I don’t, I would have yelled or asked him to stop when it started. But I keep letting it slide, I want to see what he will do to me next, what level will he take this lustful experience to now that the sky is no longer our limit. My feet begin to walk away as soon as he releases me. I hide behind the curtain where the food and drinks are being stored with the hope that no one can see me. My hand goes down and into my skirt. The flight is only half way there and my panties and stockings are already ruined. My finger goes in deeper, pressing firmly on my clit and letting out a sigh of relief. I picture him grabbing my ass, eating and smacking while saying how beautiful and delicious it is. I want his hands to go up further than the hem of my skirt, ripping off my stocking of he can poke his finger deep inside me.

My brain tells my hand to stop. If I keep on going, I won’t be able to stop of get out there and survive for the rest of the flight. I straighten my clothes and my posture, making sure the all of these guilty pleasures are fully invisible. Suddenly, the curtain slides open and Park Jimin, standing with his arm crossed, gives me the smirk of a detective catching his suspect red-handed.

“You’re a naughtier girl than I thought you were.” He says as his approaches me. “This flight is too long for your endurance, right?” His arm sneaks to my back, squeezing my ass as he pulls my body in closer. At this point, I’m too embarrassed to answer this question. My head turns away from him

“I need some assistance from the flight attendant. Would you be able to help me?” He whispers into my ear, leaving a ticklish feeling that can crush the dam of my orgasm any minute.

“Yes, sir. How can I help you?”

Jimin grabs my wrist and pulls me to the washroom opposite from where we are. He twists the knob to “occupied” after shoving me into the wall. His lips smash into me, like a hungry wolf, twisting his tongue and wrapping them around mine. He has his hands stroking from the sides of my thighs up to my breasts, unbuttoning my top buttons so my lacy bra is revealed. He sucks on my cleavage, squeezing my breast over and over again. I let out soft moans as I feel his hard cock rubbing on my clothed clit. He slides down on his knee and strips my pencil skirt down. Taking a pause to look at it, his eyes tell me how he’s enjoying his view. With his teeth clipping on the waistband, he pulls my stockings down, brushing through some of the most sensitive places on my body. When they are half way to my knees, Jimin rips them apart.

“Turn around and stick your ass out.”

I obey his demand like a little kitten. He rubs his cheek on my ass then bites it and sucks it like a popsicle. His finger slides back and forth on my panties. “Does that feel good?”

“Yes.” I gasp. But a smack lands on my ass, replacing his tongue.

“Who taught you to talk like that?” His dominant voice gives me cold sweats, but I have no complaints.

“Yes, sir.”

“That’s more like it.”

He pulls my panties down and sucks on my damp core. I let out a small yelp as I feel myself dripping like a tap that isn’t fully closed. The sweat glues my shirt into my body, creating this muddy feeling. His tongue goes in deep like a submarine exploring the ocean. He continues to caress my ass, occasionally giving it a smack whenever I’m on the verge of screaming.

“Are you okay in there?” A female voice asks from outside the door. My heart rate escalates to thousands of beats per minute.

“No… I’m okay… Just, my stomach hurts a little… Sorry.” Jimin licks harder. I can tell he’s amused by how hard I’m trying to cover this up.

“Are you sure? You’ve been screaming a lot.” She pushes me to the edge and so is his tongue, speeding up and sucking on my clit.

“Yes… Thank you.” I hold my breath, hearing her footsteps fading away. Jimin suddenly stops.

“Good job.” He stands up and fixes his tie. “I’ll save some for later. We don’t want you to keep touching yourself for the rest of the flight, do we?

And just like that, he exits the washroom, leaving me undone my half of my shirt opened and my stockings ripped to pieces. That feeling of being left hanging in the air, not flying and not falling, I won’t be the one suffering in round 2.

This idea popped up when I was sitting on the plane. Apparently I’m taking sins everywhere with me now. Life has been a bitch to me these days so I haven’t been able to write much. Either way, I hope you guys enjoyed this.


An easier to do, and easier to read, watermark tee! Third times the charm! 

My friends and I were relentlessly trying to create a watermark tee but we ran into the problem that no stores that we came across sold blue gel glue. At first we used a pink dye, clear Elmer’s glue and a white t-shirt. We got the shirt wet and rung it out, slipped it over a storage tub lid, wrote our words on it but they all looked to blend together. We waited for it to dry and we also used a hair dryer to speed the process up. Next we prepared the dye (we used the only clothing dye from Wal Mart; a tulip fabric dye) we then soaked the shirt in the dye and did what the package said to do: Stir the shirt for 15 minutes straight, let it soak for 45. The result? All we got was a pink t shirt. 


We used a blue dye, a Elmer’s clear gel glue pen from the craft section, and white shirts. We did the same thing as above but the glue only lasted for a shirt and a half so if you’re looking to make more this glue showed promising results but buy more than one. We then made a run and bought ELMER’S Glue-All Multipurpose glue. This is a non washable glue that is sold right by the normal glue. It’s a white glue so we were skeptical if it would work. We wet the shirts, rung them out, slipped them over the lid, and wrote. Again they all ran together. This time though we went to bed and let it dry by its self. This gave little results on the gel glue, and semi promising with the Glue-All. We dyed the shirts and rinsed them right away, with water AND soap then dried them in the dryer. This made all results fail, basically. 

They say the third time is a charm though so we tried again. 

This time it worked. 

We decided that we wanted to try something new so we didn’t wet the tshirt at all. We used the Glue-All hoping it would work on the dry fabric.

My friend wrote her quote on the fabric, still over a lid as the glue seeps through. 

We waited for it to dry, this only took 20 minutes or so. 

We then soaked it in the yellow dye for 20 minutes. 

After pulling it out we rung out the dye soaked shirt and let it dry before rinsing out the dye. This I think made the color more noticeable since the dye soaked in. 

It ended up looking like we had a bunch of glue flakes all over, scrub these off with a sponge or by rubbing two sides of the shirt together when rinsing. 

First we rinsed all of the dye out, then we washed it in cool soapy water. 

Make sure to get all of the flakes off

Put it in the dryer 

And you have a finished product. 

Two shirts, dye, and glue costs all under $15 at walmart. 

Took 2 hours at most. 

Good Morning (johnkat, rated T)

“Good morning!”

It takes you another two steps before you realize it was addressed to you. You stop, frown, and turn to see a lanky guy in an eye-searing blue hoodie grinning at you. “…what?”

His expression falters into amused confusion. Blinks before trying again. “Good morning?”

Seriously, is this douchebag for real? No, no fuck this, you’re not letting some chipper polehumper trot his happy-go-lucky attitude over the wreckage that is your life. That is your wreckage thankyouverymuch; it is off-limits for inappropriately affable wunderwursts.

And what a wreckage it is. Waking up exhausted with a screaming ache in your back and some asshole bird screaming unholy salutations to the sun right outside your goddamn window and then your darling mongrel of a meowbeast had puked up the overpriced gourmet meat in gravy all over your shoes in a moist display of gratitude and left you screaming with impotent ire.

Your only pair of shoes.

So really, you are perfectly content quivering through the seismic aftershocks of your nine-point-zero ragequake just fine, you don’t need some overly friendly pillock telling you otherwise.

“No, no it’s not a good morning, you failure magnet. It’s a fucking awful morning alright? So just re-ingest your lukewarm pleasantries and tenderly inject them up your anus. Who the hell even greets random strangers on the street these days? Did you fall out of a eighties sitcom?”

There. That’ll shut him up.

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anonymous asked:

Hi, there! I'm transmale but I am thinking about being a professional merman when I'm older. The thing is, chest surgery would mean I'd have obvious scars and it makes me think that I wouldn't be successful because of it. Do you think I'd still have a chance? Thank you!

Of course!!!!!! Can you imagine the stories you can tell?! “I battled the kraken!” “I battled the pirates!” “I fought a shark!” Can you imagine the photoshoots?! A merman warrior photoshoot with a trident and the ocean in the background during a storm! A merman washed up on shore, wounded with battle scars from a shark, and humans (your friends) coming to your aid until you’re better to go back into the ocean. You can do so much! Don’t let this hold you back. If you are self concious, you can make something to wear on your chest. Maybe get a bunch of rope, turn it into a “shirt”, and glue seaweed or seashells onto the area of scarring.

You got this!