hop fields

Here’s just a very small list of great LGBTQ+ artists who aren’t horrible people. Please feel free to suggest some more because there’s no way I’m gonna get anywhere near naming all of them!

  • Against Me! (Punk, pop punk)
  • Angel Haze (Hip-hop)
  • Antony and the Johnsons (Art pop, soul)
  • Anohni (Electronic, experimental pop)
  • Arca (Electronic)
  • Aye Nako (Punk)
  • Courtney Barnett (Indie rock)
  • Frank Ocean (R&B)
  • G.L.O.S.S (Punk)
  • Jay Som (Dream pop)
  • Le1f (Hip-hop)
  • Magnetic Fields (Indie pop, indie rock)
  • Perfume Genius (Chamber pop)
  • St. Vincent (Art pop)
  • THEESatisfaction (Soul, hip-hop)
  • Xiu Xiu (Experimental pop)

And then there was Merlin

Pairing: Eggsy x Reader

Requested: Yup!

Pronouns: She/Her

GIF: turonegerton

Song: ‘Raging’ by Kygo

Warnings: Swearing.

Reading time: 18 Min.

Notes: None

Summary: You’ve been working nights in the tech department of Kingsman and have a run in with Eggsy that could make things a little messy.


“You invent some kinda way to write code with your eyeballs?”

A wisp of hot breath tickled her ear. Y/N whipped her head sideways to meet it. Her face collided with the brim of Eggsy’s hat. “Oww,” She exclaimed. Her eyes squinted shut as she rubbed the bridge of her nose.

“Sorry love.” Eggsy stood behind her chair, leaning over her shoulder, his face next to hers. “You’ve been staring at that screen for 10 minutes. I wasn’t sure you were even awake.”

“I wasn’t,” Y/N muttered. She turned back to the computer, slouched down in her chair and yawned.

It had been almost two months since she started working nights in the tech department of Kingsman. She had met all the agents her first day but only ever saw Trinity, the night watch, which usually meant she could get in a good nap during her shifts.

“Don’t see you around here much.” Eggsy stood up.

“Yea, Uni keeps me pretty busy during the day,” She spoke with her eyes closed, arms folded across her chest. “But Merlin needs my help here so I find the- SHIT!” She sat up fast, eyes gaping. “What time is it?” She frantically checked the desktop for her phone and retrieved it from under a pile of papers and a half eaten banana. It was dead.

Keep reading

Nudge Theory
Characters: CastielXReader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

Word Count: 1827 (Act II)

A/N: A five act mini-series. The reader and Castiel must work together to solve the curious case of the missing Winchesters. Fluff, smut, and a plot for kicks. It was originally going to be three acts, then I got invested because Cas is adorable. Now it’s outlined for five acts. I’m not sorry. NSFW themes below the cut.

Previous chapters:   Act I

(not my GIF)

Nudge [verb] –

·       “Coax or gently encourage someone to do something.”

Blame it on being over-tired. Blame it on a certain heavenly shade of blue you couldn’t shake when you finally succumbed to the tender embrace of slumber. No, blame it on the Winchesters. After all, they’re the reason you’re sound asleep with an angel at the wheel as the dawn light swirls misty gold on the horizon. To be more specific, blame it on the mountain of porn you weeded through on Dean’s computer the evening before to sort out your current destination. Whomever or whatever you blame, clearly you are in no way at fault for lucidly dreaming of Castiel, angel of the Lord, possessed of the bluest eyes in the history of blue, so blue, they might in fact have been the first blue in all of creation - it’s not like you planned to have the best sex dream of your life with him seated at arm’s length.

Keep reading


On Saturday August 24th 1867, Fanny Adams, 8 years old, Minnie Warner, 7 years old, and Elizabeth Adams, Fanny’s sister who was only 5, were walking up a lane towards Flood Meadow in Alton, England. They came across a solicitor’s clerk named Frederick Baker. He was 29 years old and looked to be quite respectable in a business suit and tie. He offered two of the girls some money so he could be alone with Fanny, and they took it and took off. Sadly, all though she tried, Fanny was unable to escape and Baker brutally murdered her in a hops field. Around 5 o'clock, when the two young girls returned home they informed a neighbour who told Fanny’s mother. Panic set in and she ran up towards Flood Meadow. On the way she came across Baker as he was coming down the lane. They questioned him but he told them he hadn’t seen her and again, due to his respectable appearance, Mrs. Adams let him go and continued the search for Fanny. Later that evening they found her body. She had been mutilated almost beyond recognition.

Baker was arrested at his offices on High Street and was led through a very angry mob to the police station. Although he claimed innocence there was immediately quite a bit of evidence against him. He had blood stains on his shirt and trousers and also two small blood-stained knives on his person when they arrested him. One of Baker’s drinking buddies also said that on the night of the murder, Baker said he was going to be leaving town that night, and he could find a job somewhere as a butcher. On August 28th they found his diary and in it they found a short but horrible entry: “24th August, Saturday - killed young girl. It was fine and hot.”

He was sent to trial and although he tried to claim insanity the jury found him guilty after only 15 minutes of deliberation. He was hanged on December 24th 1867. Fanny was buried in Alton Cemetery.

The phrase “sweet Fanny Adams” or “sweet F.A” (also known as sweet fuck all) was derived from this case. In 1869 British sailors had been given a a new type of tinned mutton, the macabre joke of the time was it may be the remains of Fanny Adams. So, Fanny Adams became a slang for mutton, then it became slang for anything worthless. Nowadays the phrase means “nothing at all”.

Pictured above: a picture of what is thought to be Fanny Adams, Alton England where the crime took place, a more detailed map that shows how close Flood Meadow is with High Street, an illustration of Baker, a clipping about his execution, Fanny’s headstone and lastly a picture of the two girls that were lucky to escape visiting Fanny’s grave.

Hey there, I’m here again with another participation to the LawLu week, hope you like it!

10 Days of LawLu: Day 8 - A for Animal

Each time Luffy came back claiming he had something new and exciting, the crew seemed to tense. Law hadn’t understood at first, but after a couple of times, he had caught up on the thing and he now reacted the same way as the others: slightly surprised, mainly worried.

Luffy had presented his new exciting thing for one and a half minute now, and nobody had reacted. Well, their jaws had dropped. But that was pretty much all.

“I’ll put him with us, Torao!” he said, all happy.

Law gulped and tilted his head, as if mishearing. With them? What? “Mmh?” was all he could manage, but at least it was more than the others.

“Yes, he’ll sleep with us! Like a teddy bear! He’s my new teddy bear!” Luffy exclaimed, confirming Law’s fear.

He shook his head, but too feebly to show how much he disagreed.

“No way this is going on the boat,” Nami finally said and Law sighed. Thank God, his crew was smarter on some points.

“It’s too huge,” Zoro added.

“I could cook it?” Sanji suggested instead.

“You’re not cooking Kaeru!”

“Kae– Luffy, it’s not a frog!”

As to prove Nami’s observation, the animal Luffy apparently wanted to adopt roared. Frogs didn’t roar. The thing was huge, too huge, so huge. It was white with purplish spots on its back, an impressive mouth with probably very sharp teeth the size of Franky’s arms, and even bigger legs. And Luffy was riding it.

He jumped on the ground with a pout, probably in order to convince them. He didn’t have to say anything, because Kaeru saw that the annoying little man wasn’t on its back anymore and jumped at the occasion, running away quickly. It was fast, Law had to give it that.

“Hey!” Luffy called after it, but didn’t try to run at least. “You think he didn’t like his name?” he sighed, turning back to his crew.

Law walked to him before he was done mumbling that he would find another, and nodded towards the empty field in front of them.

“Let’s find something else here, Luffy-ya,” he said.

Luffy grinned and hopped towards the field, happy to search for a pet with Law.

The latter smiled inwardly as he followed him, and was beaming when they settled for the smallest thing Law had found. He really didn’t want to have to deal with a huge animal, so he was really relieved to bring back what looked like a butterfly to the boat with Luffy who looked genuinely happy about it.

chriscalledmesweetie replied to your post “The Sun, the North Wind, and the Fanfic Writer”

Okay, I know this is totally NOT the point (which, in fact, is a very valid and important point that I hope everyone who reads fanfic will take to heart) but I have to admit that I’m now craving some kangaroolock…

I genuinely laughed out loud when I read this! 

“Come along, John!” Sherlock shouted, hopping madly through the field. “The rat is getting away!” 

John, whose legs were shorter, struggled valiantly to keep up. “Wait, Sherlock! This faux-pouch I’ve designed to cart around this canonically pointless joey in keeps slipping!”

The rat, who was a literal rat, cackled and rubbed his tiny paws together as he cowered under a nearby leaf. And then a giant, venomous snake ate all four of them, oh God, because this story is set in Australia. 

The end. 

anonymous asked:

I live in an area that's called "bunny ranch" in Spanish so we have a ton of bunnies,,, anyway in high school as we'd run laps we'd see whole families (warrens?) of bunnies living under sheds and trailers and stuff and the babies would pop out to hop around the field. It really was the only good thing to come out of PE and I'm glad u got to experience that joy

oh my GOODNESS thank u for sharing


In 1867, an 8-year-old girl named Fanny Adams was found by horrified villagers in the following pieces:

Her bloody head, stuck on a hop-pole with the eyes gouged out and one ear tore off.

Her chest, severed at the diaphragm, with the heart scooped out.

Her arms, deposited separately, with two copper pence pieces clutched in one hand.

One foot, dropped in a field of clover.

Her eyes, recovered from the nearby River Wey.

Her heart, lying on it’s own.

It is assumed the river had taken all other remains. The man responsible was solicitor’s clerk Frederick Baker. He used his tea-break on a Saturday in August to walk through the meadows near the hop-field, and finding Fanny Adams playing with two friends. He gave the two girls half pence to run races for him; then sent the other two home while he took Fanny to the hop-field. He then battered the child with a large stone, and then cut her apart with his pen-knife. After which he went and had some beer and returned to his office where he wrote in his diary: “Killed a young girl. It was fine and hot,” He was unable to explain bloodstains on his cuffs. He was hanged at Winchester.


Field Mob - Sick Of Being Lonely

This morning on my way to class (yep, had to get up early today) I saw two large rabbits just hopping in the field next to my dormitory. It was a really beautiful morning after it rained all night and it was so sweet seeing them together. made me really happy and I still am…(without any medication). 

with the frc season solidly behind us boys and girls get ready for a story

i was a defense coordinator at new england district championships because i trusted my students to figure themselves out (NEVER. AGAIN.) and everyone told me it was going to be a hard job and i was like “whatevs bruh i work in a customer service booth it cannot be that hard”

and you know what? it wasn’t.  most teams were totally  pleasant to me and wonderful and understanding that i had to randomize their defenses when they didn’t get to my station by the end of the match two matches before them.

but one incident stuck out to me so much i feel the need to bring it up because it raised serious concerns about the way teams treat volunteers

before the first finals match, the alliance moving on from the last semifinal match failed to appear at my station in the allotted time provided by the field supervisor

NOTE: yes i understand that when a team is coming off the field and changing bumpers and whatnot it can be really hard to send someone over to the station to make a difficult strategy call. i too am a graduate of this program i know what that is like

i thought that the field supervisor should have given them more time, and advocated for that.  he wanted me to randomize after thirty seconds.  i stalled for a solid extra minute, after which I was receiving a dirty enough look that I knew better than to give them any more time

less than thirty seconds after i randomized, printed, and the field supervisor walked away one of the teams from the randomized alliance came running up to submit defenses.  i apologized and explained that they had been randomized.  they were furious, and rightly so, but i found their anger directed at me, not at the person who had made the call and, more importantly, could actually have reversed it still.  i was the object of their ire for several long minutes, telling them constantly that the field supervisor could change the decision but that i was physically unable to access the match information.  they continued to complain.

anyone who was at dcmp knows what happened next.  semifinal matches were adjusted, then replayed.  bumpers were switched back and forth.  right before the finals started once again, i found the team once again at my station with daggers coming from their eyes.

“can we reselect defenses?” they fired at me

“i don’t know about that yet,” i answered, rapidly refreshing the page

“well could you FIND OUT?”

i picked up the radio.  “beth to any fta”

“go ahead,” an unidenitified fta responded

“are they resubmitting defenses for finals match 1?”

“no, they don’t have to.  we have them already.” i relayed this information 

“ok yeah but CAN WE? YOU randomized them last time”

“beth to any fta”


“CAN they?”

“no.  we already have them.” i relayed this information again, only to recieve several more minutes of verbal abuse.

YES, the call was wrong, as my ref friend has told to me on several occasions. but it was NOT my call and the team in question refused to listen.  they had ample time to hop over to the field and have the call reversed, but chose instead to spend that time yelling at me, a person who was powerless to help them beyond what i already done (i.e., effectively tripling the amount of time they had to make it to my station)

beyond that, even if it had been my call, slinging verbal abuse at volunteers does not endear you to anyone.  i’m positive that this made a negative impact on teams in hearing range.  this was the least FIRST-like behavior I have witnessed in some time and i am saddened to say that it happened in new england, a region in which i take a lot of pride.

volunteers are there to help run the event.  NOT to be your personal punching bag when you’re angry about having to replay matches.  if it were not for volunteers, frc would disappear or registration would go up sharply.  hate paying $5,000 for two district events? imagine how much you would hate paying for them if first had to pay minimum wage or higher to ftas, refs, pit admin, robot inspectors, crowd control, queuers, ambassadors, judges, the committee, and more.  

tl;dr: i volunteered and a team was rude to me for no reason (literally hurt their cause).  keep registration affordable.  be nice to volunteers.

Do You And Jay EVER Fight?
Request by anon: i loooooove your scenarios with jay oh god ;~; can i request a scenario where you have a fight and you run out of the house and jay freaks out and when he runs out to look for u, he finds u really drunk

 Sorry for the wait, the scenario deleted and I had to write it again! :( Hope you enjoy, it is rather long. Sorry if it’s boring :s

-Admin Kitty

External image

“Seriously what’s up with that? Why can’t guys just admit when they’re wrong instead of starting an argument about it? You know?” Your best friend Janie ranted about her boyfriend in the cafe, waving her sandwich around wildly in her rage. “Not really…” You muttered.  “Do you and Jay, EVER fight?” Your other friend Min asked you. You blushed at the mention of your boyfriend’s name. “Should we?” You laughed. “No, it’s just kinda weird that’s all.” Min replied, picking up her coffee and taking a sip. It was true. You and Jay never really fought. I mean, everyone has disagreements but why should that mean you had to fight? Both you and your boyfriend were usually quite relaxed when you disagreed and you sorted it out pretty quickly, you never did anything more than bicker about little stupid things like what film to watch or whatever.  But lately, things were weird. You wouldn’t really call it a rough patch, but, something was going on with Jay. He’d been acting oddly with you for the last week. On the surface, things looked fine but everytime you were together it’s like his mind was somewhere else. He was looking at you but not properly concentrating, all the time. He’d be quiet sometimes, which really wasn’t like Jay. Jay was outgoing, Jay was goofy. Jay was only quiet when something was up. But that was just it…You had no idea what was up. On Saturday night, you decided to watch a film over at his place. Well, I guess it was both of yours  now. You weren’t sure quite when you had actually moved in with Jay, but every time you went around you left something there and you had just stopped bothering to take it back to your place. You had been watching the film for an hour now, and normally he would have talked to you but tonight he was deadly silent. He’d barely said two words since you’d got there. When it was time for you to go, it felt like he was actually in the room for the first time as he said “Hey, ______?” He said, just as you walked out of the door. You turned around. Your eyes locked for a little while as you looked at eachother in silence. He swallowed, and something flitted through his eyes, too quick for you to identify what it was properly. Something vulnerable. Like shyness or something. That scared you. Jay was normally so confident. “Do you love me?” He asked you, unblinking, unsmiling. “Aw, Jay. Of course I do, you know that.” You giggled, walking forward and kissing him lightly on the lips before pulling him into a hug. His arms hung by his side for a couple seconds than slowly circled your waist.  You pulled away, “Okay, I gotta go. I’ll call you when I’m finished up at work."  He nodded and watched as you left, not saying a word. On Sunday night, you got in from work at nine, throwing down your bag while calling out for your boyfriend. "Jay?” You shouted up the stairs. No reply.  You went in the kitchen to find him stood over the kitchen counter making coffee for himself. “Hey.” You breathed.  Usually, he would fling into his arms and twirl you around and kiss you. He was usually so happy to see you, so eager to tell you about his day. But, tonight, he barely looked up from his coffee cup when he said hello. It hurt. But you tried to brush it off. “I’ll go get changed then we’ll watch the film.” You kissed him lightly on the cheek then hurried to change into more comfortable clothing. When you got back, he hadn’t even moved from where you had left him. He was staring down at his coffee and you were about to ask if he was okay when he spoke. “Are you cheating on me?” He carried on staring down at the coffee cup for a while before looking up. You blinked, unmoving. You stared at him. What? This must be some sort of joke. You laughed once, “Are you joking?” He must be joking, you thought to yourself. Please be joking. You half expected him to crack a smile and say he was only kidding around, but his eyes never wavered and his face didn’t make any move to convince you it was just a joke. “You didn’t answer my question.” He said, barely a whisper. Then, things started to click into place. The way he’d been acting this last week, the way he barely touched you, the way he didn’t kiss you when you walked through the door, the way he was always thinking about something else. He had been thinking about this. “You shouldn’t even have to ask.” You said, your vision started to blur. Did he really not trust you, after all this time? “Liar."  That stung. You raised your shaky voice a little, "What?” “If you weren’t you would have just said."  "What? Why would you even think-” Tears flooded from your eyes, as you carried on in your shaky voice. “Well what else am I meant to think, _____?” He opened his arms and shouted at you, “It’s like we never even see each other anymore!"  "Is this why you’ve been acting so weird the past week?” You tried to steady your voice, “Why have you waited until now to-” “When, ____? When else is there to speak to you? You’re never home!” You’d never seen him this angry before, and it scared you. “That isn’t fair-” You started but he interrupted you, stepping towards you. “No. You know what’s not fair? The fact that when I was on tour I skyped you every single night and now that I’m here, I feel like we see each other even less because you’re always with your friends or your secret boyfriend or-” “Jay, my friends are important to me-” “And I’m not?!” He shouted down at you, “What about me, ____? I need you too!” “I know but-” “Is that where you were last night? At some guys house?"  "No, I was at work! You’re being ridiculous!” “Oh is that what you call him now? Work?” He said, bitterly. “I saw you with him a couple weeks ago when you said you were at work.” “It really isn’t what you think-” He stepped right up to you and looked you dead on in the eyes, “You know, the girl I fell in love with wasn’t such a goddamn bitch.” You stared at him for a second. He had never said that to you. Ever. You couldn’t even believe that it had come from his mouth. The mouth that kissed you. The mouth that sang you to sleep. The mouth that curled into a smile when ever it saw you. Your eyes dribbled with tears, pathetically.  Seeing how hurt you were, something changed in his eyes. His eyes flickered from anger into apology in a matter of seconds. “Baby, I-” He started, much more gentler this time. But you didn’t stick around to see what he said. You didn’t know where your feet were taking you, you just knew you had to get out of that house and away from him. You ran and ran, as a billion thoughts raced through your head. He had never shouted like that before…He had looked so…angry. You’d never seen him like that. And the way he’d looked at you. So disgusted. So hateful. Did he really hate you? You started to cry at the very thought, and you came across a field. You hopped over the crooked fence and sat down with the bottle of vodka you had bought from the shop. You didn’t drink much, infact, you really had never even been drunk before. But your friends said that drinking made you happier. So you drank, little by little as you continued on crying. Bitch. He had called you a bitch. You drank more, until a fuzzy warm feeling radiated your insides. And yet you still felt so upset. The rain started to pour down, but you didn’t notice the difference because your face was soaking wet. “Baby!” You heard a distressed voice shout. And then you heard it again. “_____? Where are you?” It was Jay’s voice - you’d know it anywhere. He found you, sat on the grass of the field, bottle of vodka in hand and tears down your face. You looked distraught.  When you caught sight of him, his eyes looked panicked and he was breathing heavily, you figured he’d ran here. He hadn’t even put on a coat as he’d left, just like you. He was wearing a wife beater and his muscles were drenched in rain, he must be freezing. “Oh my god, what are you doing out here? Baby?” He ran up and sat down next to you. You stared at him, “You called me a bitch.” Your voice cracked. “I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean it…Baby…please talk to me.” His voice sounded frantic and he searched your eyes. After a minute of silence you spoke. “The boy you saw me with was my cousin’s boyfriend.” You barely whispered it, but his head snapped to you. “Then why didn’t you tell me?” He said, quieter. “I….My cousin, he’s gay. He didn’t want anyone to know. And, him and his boyfriend were having troubles, so I wanted to help out. So I’ve been meeting with him.” You explained, trying not to cry more. Understanding ran through his features and that was the last thing you saw before you blacked out. You woke up on the comfy material of your boyfriends sofa with his eyes staring into yours. “____! Oh my god are you okay? Oh my god…You scared the shit out of me!” He hurriedly said, knelt down at the side of the sofa.  You lifted your head up, but he pushed you back down gently, “No, don’t get up. I think the vodka knocked you out, you need to rest."  He looked so worried, "I’m so sorry, ____. I’m so freaking sorry….” He ran his fingers through his hair, and you realized he had tears in his eyes. Just a little bit. “It’s ok. It’s ok…” You said, reaching out to cup his cheek softly.  “No, it’s really not.” He said, looking up at you through his eyelashes. You smiled, embarrassed, “I’m sorry I called you selfish.” He shook his head, “No. I was being selfish. And I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions…I’m so sorry.” You sat up and hugged him, “It’s okay. Just promise you won’t get jealous about me meeting my cousins boyfriend again.” You laughed.  He wound his arms around you and laughed quietly into your neck, kissing it lightly before saying, “I promise.” “I love you.” You whispered into his ear, kissing the hollow behind it. He put his forehead to yours and quickly pecked you on the lips. “I love you too, but right now, we really need to get you into bed.” He smiled at you, “Hold on.” He picked you up by the waist carefully, and you wound your legs around his hips as he carried you to the bedroom, “I never want to fight again.” You whispered.