i always dreamed of making my cap @taylorswift related- and that day finally came. i wanna thank you taylor for sticking by my side through it all and helping me through every tough situation. high school was really difficult for me and at many times i couldn’t find a reason to stay alive, but then i’d think of you. i would listen to your music and you would push me to keep going, to keep living. and for that i would like to thank you with all of my ♡ . my friends haven’t always been there for me, but you always have. not many good things came out of high school, but one of the best was finding myself. i found my passion for clinical psychology and i’m so excited to pursue that passion of mine in college. i love you xoxo and i always will xoxo

Sterek A-Z Challenge: one word prompts

Week 7: G - Gone (AO3 extended)

The moment Noah Stilinski’s only son walked across the stage and accepted his high school diploma was the happiest day of his life so far. Not because he had graduated. That was a happy coincidence. No, it was because of what it signified.

Stiles had survived into adulthood. He had graduated high school. He had gotten into Stanford, Columbia, Berkeley, and Brown. But more importantly, he was alive.

After years of chasing down the supernatural, surviving a possession, taking a life, and years of pain, misery, and heartbreak, Stiles had made it out the other side, a little broken, but alive.

Noah couldn’t have been more proud, even when Stiles managed to trip over the hem of his grad gown and flail. Coach smacked him up the back of the head before pulling him into a tight hug. Behind him, the pack cheered and clapped. Someone wolf-whistled. The irony was not lost.

Tears damp on his cheeks, Noah watched as Stiles proudly stood at the edge of the stage, gold Salutatorian stole draped around his shoulders, and switched the tassel hanging from his cap from one side to the other. He flashed a thumbs up. Except, his attention drifted past gathered pack in the audience towards the trees at the edge of the lacrosse field.

Following his son’s line of sight, Noah caught sight of the familiar scruffy face of Derek Hale watching Stiles with and expression that could only be described as fond while he lurked in the shadow of the forest.

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my younger bro asked me for twenty dollars so he could get his high school grad gown and there were two in my purse so i was like you can have the other one too and he was like “why would i need that” and i was like idk. what are kids your age buying these days and he was leaving the room and he was like “fidget spinners” and idk why that made me laugh so hard 


I managed to barely achieve an S in this stage, whoooo (I really wanted to avoid crafting the grad gown…)

  Items used:

  • Hair: Noble Deer Queen
  • Dress: Pink Gift
  • Anklet: Lunar Ripple
  • Socks: Cloud Walk
  • Shoes: Fleeting Clouds
  • Make-up: Extraordinary Elf
  • Headwear: Trencher Cap
  • Veil: Nun’s Headwear-Epic
  • Earrings: Foam Star
  • Scarf: Autumn Meeting
  • Necklace: Nightly Necklace
  • Right-hand bracelet: Slender Metal Ring
  • Left-hand bracelet: Oceanic-Rare
  • Gloves: Devil’s Hands
  • Right-hand handheld: Hardcover Notebook
  • Left-hand handheld: Camellia Branch
  • Waist: Coffee Girdle
  • Glasses: Student Glasses
  • Brooch: Tassel Handbag-Brown
  • Tattoo: Shining Light
  • Wing: Angel’s Wings
  • Tail: Rabbit Tail
  • Foreground: Lunar Fragrance
  • Background: Everlasting Moonbeam
  • Skin: Warm Ray

[ Please note that the skills I used (Smile, Charming, Critical Eye, Critical Immune) are fully maxed out ]

Pony’s Graduation HC
  • The whole gang arrived super early 
  • Pony’s grad gown was black
  • When he got his diploma the gang was the loudest section 
    • He was top of his class 
  • After the ceremony they went to The Dingo and all got milkshakes and burgers
    • Darry’s treat
  • Darry was so proud of Pony 
  • After, they all celebrated with cake at Pony’s house 
  • Pictures lots and lots of pictures

anonymous asked:

ok but i cant help myself by four tops is such a narry song like imagine them dancing to it in their pajamas at 2am in their kitchen while making cookies 😩😩😩😩

this one’s also for @laugheatwalk, who requested slow dancing narry! 
(2.3k uni!au)

Niall sets his last final down on the proctor’s desk and lets the wooden door shut softly behind him like it has so many times before. He nods at Sam, who’s sat beside him through all of his upper division Spanish courses since they were nineteen, hitches his bag up on his shoulder, and makes for the old double doors and beyond, the quad. By the time he’s halfway across it’s started sinking in: he’s free. Niall checks to make sure no one’s watching, and then he lets himself give a little skip and kick his feet together. He comes down feeling elated. 

He dials Harry while he waits at the bus stop, one earbud tucked into his ear and the other one dangling from his collar. Niall only ever has two earbuds in when he’s trying to focus on his revisions, but those days are officially over now, and he likes it better like this anyway. He can hear the crickets chirping as afternoon gives way to evening, and the squeaking brakes of the campus bus system pulling up to a stop in front of him, and the soft crunch of his trainers biting into cement for one last loop from class to home. 

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A lesson in fatshion history

It is really startling and kind of sad to me to read fatshionistas (I’m going to assume they are 25 & under) complaining that the “only” fatshion items available are “corny pinup options.”

Yes, it is worthwhile talking about the expectation of fat women, in particular, to perform femininity but I think we can do that without totally shitting on femme aesthetic. Especially since this particular femme aesthetic has only VERY RECENTLY become available and accessible to fat women who aren’t dressmakers/incredibly wealthy.

Complain about a lack of butch/goth/punk options or wanting better ones, fine, but don’t deride femmes to make your case. Don’t suggest that femme is som sort of “default” or easy look when it’s a style of presentation that we work just as hard to cultivate as any other aesthetic. Nobody is forcing anyone to learn how to wing their eyeliner or put victory rolls in her hair. But these are skills to be appreciated just like I appreciate a totally fucking boss fade or a tight-fitting pair of jeans or a well-pressed dress shirt or beard art or makeup that makes you look like an intergalactic ghoul.

In the early 00s I had to special order a grad dress (in a size 14) to a local bridal shop because they literally didn’t even bring in anything over a size 10. The plus-size chain stores didn’t even carry anything close to a gown or grad dress. If you wanted to dress femme, you had to earn it by being thin. Or having a family member who could custom make your clothes.

The fact that a so-called “abundance” (like what, a half a dozen dedicated online retailers who specialize in full-skirted garments?) of fat rockabilly/pin up style seems even worth complaining about is evidence of how much the plus size clothing market has grown and changed in the last 15 years, especially in Canada.

Teen me would have absolutely killed to have anything remotely pretty or delicate–never mind FASHIONABLE–in her wardrobe. I basically wore my grandfather’s pants all through high school because there wasn’t even a shitty mall option for me in my city. (And I did not live in a small town). You had better odds of winning the lottery then purchasing or even thrifting a plus-sized dress that was in any way sexy or interesting or fitted off the rack at a brick and mortar.

Fast fat fashion–Forever 21, H&M plus–did not even exist as brick and mortars or online as little as 5 years ago. Last I checked both places sell plenty of separates that are in no way “rockabilly.”

You’ll never see me complain that there is more than one rockabilly/vintage-inspired clothing retailer for fat people. Maybe a certain style of vintage is having a more visible MOMENT but an aesthetic becoming a trend does not make it irrelevant. The choice to wear a pretty dress was literally  NONEXISTENT for me for so many years of my life. I will honestly spend every day dressing like a pinup model. I honestly don’t give af if fats younger than me think I’m boring for it. All of our looks are legitimate.

What that one post about “What they don’t tell you about the DCP” doesn’t tell you about

The day after everyone finishes their last shift - the one where you’re all too scared to even look at each other because you know you’ll lose it - you come into work and you don’t recognize 90% of the people on the line. Scheduling has already been considering your friends gone for at least 2 weeks, filling the labor gap with the crew from the AM shifts, the ones you never got to see except maybe once during training because you get the bottom of the barrel hours when you’re at the bottom of the pole. Everything feels sort of distant and bizarre, like you’re going through the motions, but underwater and in reverse. You have a guest say or do something ridiculous, and you turn to share with so-and-so because you know it will make them laugh, and then you remember. It’s like when you were little and trying to see if you could navigate the stairs in the dark - you think you counted them all right and proper, but you misstep, and suddenly your stomach is sent hurtling into the Twilight Zone. It’s like that, but still not quite. You can’t put a name to it. You can’t describe it. But it engulfs you, and it feels like there are needles behind your eyes as you try not to let the tears slip out. You bite your lip, and focus on the guests. You try to anchor yourself in the small details coming past your touchpoint: the scribble of hastily designed buttons, lanyard decorations, hand-designed magic bands, nifty pin collections… You wait until the burning at the base of your throat subsides before you trust yourself to engage. A crew of people all wearing empty celebrate buttons. You decide to chance it. Hi there! Welcome to the Magic Kingdom! What are you guys celebrating today? They look up at you, and that’s when you glimpse Maingates instead of tickets. The gold tasseled ears poking out of one kid’s bag. The autograph book clutched in the hands of the girl closest to you. The mascara and eye liner that’s smudged across the board. The red and white and PC/CS/VW cards peeking out of lanyard holders. It’s our last night, someone says quietly from the V next to you, we wanted to do Wishes one last time. You open your mouth, but it’s like the First Order shot a black hole gun down your throat. No sound escapes. You forget how to breathe for a second as that awful stair feeling snakes through your gut. Swallows you up. But you turn on The Smile and nod sympathetically, and manage to squeeze out a very small That’s a lovely way to finish. They scan their tickets, link arms, and make their way into the park. You can hear them singing along to the park entry soundtrack as they disappear into the breezeway.

The day after everyone finishes their last night in the park - the one you couldn’t be 100% apart of because you had to work, but you still got to watch Wishes “with them” as you worked Exit Ferryboat, and you still got to have one last round of zingers and fries and making jokes at Alehouse at ungodly hours - you sleep until 3 in the afternoon. You set your alarm for 10am, because it’s your Saturday and you have things you have to do, errands that need to be run, but when you go to turn off your alarm and get your day going, your phone is a long string of notifications on Facebook: tag alerts from goodbye photos, parting statuses you’ve been mentioned in, new posts in the Ohana Chat… It’s just too much. You roll over, go back to sleep, have some weird dreams about crashing your car in space, and don’t resurface consciousness until 5 hours later. More time for your phone to accumulate even more alerts, but also more time to be mentally/emotionally ready for the floodgates they will undoubtedly be opening…again.

The day after your second program ends but you’re on extension, you feel like Jessie in Toy Story 2 while the rest of your friends drive off. Like parts of your heart are getting sectioned off and scattering around the globe. Japan. China. England. Australia. New Zealand. France. Germany. Canada. Puerto Rico. Brazil. Argentina. Italy. The map of the US suddenly has new landmarks in your mind: so-and-so’s house in Texas. So-and-so’s school in California. Iowa. Washington state. Michigan. Nevada. New Jersey…

The day after it all, you realize that even despite this being the hardest 5 months of your life - being away from family that most likely won’t make it to next year, putting school on the backburner AGAIN to make ends meet on immediate bills, living in a constant state of anxiety about whether you have housing stability, constantly doubting whether you’ve wasted thousands of dollars trying to breathe this dream into reality, strangled non-stop by the fear that you have failed yet again to make a place for yourself in this world - you have been surrounded by the best and brightest and loveliest and simply most amazing people on the planet. You have been buoying through your storms on the life raft of love and compassion that was built board by board through the coming together of complete and total strangers. The day after it all, you wake up and you realize that while you may have moved back to Florida with only a mini van full of the bare necessities and a handful of friends waiting to embrace you in Orlando, you now have a family that stretches to infinity and beyond.

What that one post about “What they don’t tell you about the DCP” doesn’t tell you about is that the ending of it all doesn’t break you - it helps you see how far you’ve grown, how much your heart has become anchored in a world-wide network built on faith, trust, pixie dust, and a lot of tequila and wine spritzers and arguments about lexical gaps in three different languages simultaneously. The fireworks burn a little brighter. Fake Celine Dion makes you cry a little harder. Graduation ears feel so much heavier than any grad cap and gown. And suddenly, the world feels a little more like home.

Te amo
Au revoir

See ya real soon °o°

anonymous asked:

hi pls give me some soft daiyui headcanons they r literally the best

oKay so

  • canon daiyui is already so soft and adorable but i’ll do my best to continue on that aha 
  • yui kisses daichi first (surprising, i know, but she told her friends she would and it’s the day of their graduate, daichi’s telling her how proud he is of her and then suddenly she’s tugging him in by the collar of his grad gown and kissing him with force. when they pull away, her face turns bright red at the realization that not only did she confess, but she kissed him)
  • daichi cuts off her stammered apology as he wraps an arm around her waist and kisses her 
  • daichi and yui dating!!! they’re both embarrassed when everyone’s like “lmao took you guys long enough”
  • they’re both a bit shy about pda abut they hold hands a lot and sometimes when yui’s being especially cute, daichi will peck her on the cheek or in the case of the reverse, yui will steal a quick kiss, leaving her bf flustered but endeared aaaa
  • they’re so supportive of each other!!! they’re always at each other’s games and when yui gets into her dream school, daichi takes her out to dinner. when daichi’s studying hard for finals, yui gives him charms that are meant to act as tokens of good fortune 
  • yui and daichi staying out late, practicing volleyball together 
  • yui as big spoon!!!
  • on their first date, they go ice skating. yui’s a good skater at once point she nearly loses her balance and daichi catches her, his hands at her waist, their lips nearly touching as yui laughs sheepishly and blinks in surprise. 
  • at the end of the date, yui’s shivering so daichi wraps his jacket around her shoulders. when he drops her off she tries to give the jacket back but he tells her it looks best on her
  • he waiting in the car for her to get inside safely first before leaving when through the blinds, he sees her dance around her living room in circles as she yells as does a fistpump, daichi’s heart fluttering bc that’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen