how not to hurry

anonymous asked:

So apparently there is a sport called fire hockey which is played at night where in the puck is a roll of toilet paper wrapped in chicken wire soaked in kerosene and lit on fire. If you use good toilet paper it burns for about 10 minutes. This is the PERFECT sport for Mick.

Len squints at the scene before him in morbid curiosity.

“Is that–”

“On fire? Yep.” Lisa is completely deadpan.

Why?”

She points and he follows her finger through to - ah. Mick. That makes sense. He’s standing in the goal post at the end of the cul-de-sac. 

“How long has it been going?”

She shrugs and crosses her arms, leaning against the power company box that marks the end of the lane. “About an hour? He rounded up a bunch of the boys from Ells street playing street hockey and dragged them over here where there’s less traffic. Guess he got bored of you taking forever.”

“I was making plans.”

“Don’t tell it to me.”

It’s then that Mick seems to finally notice them and waves. His eye was fixed on the fireball that was their puck before that, but it appears to have burnt out finally. His stick is a little singed but so is everything Mick owns. Though he doesn’t normally play hockey, let alone street hockey, so Len doubts it’s his stick. Probably a donation from one of the neighbor boys, all of which are closer to Lisa’s age than his and Mick’s.

“Hey Lisa!” Mick calls, waving, “toss us another?”

Len’s ready to roll his eyes. “We’ve got shit to do, Mick!” he calls back, hands cupped around his mouth.

“One more round! It’s fast!”

Mick’s grin is wide and Lisa grabs a – is that toilet paper? She lobs it in Mick’s direction and he’s quick to catch it.

“You gotta be kidding me.”

She’s smiling now. “No clue where he got the idea but I gotta say, Lenny – your friends are creative.”

He nods, bemused, and watches Mick wrap it up and douse it in what can only be one of the many flammable fluids he likes? Butane? Kerosene? Either way, the layers must keep it burning. Len can see how it works, the appeal, at least for Mick.

Now if only the jerk would stop stealing what’s clearly his home’s toilet paper and go to an actual hockey game with Len instead of complaining about the cold.

“One more round,” he says more to himself than anyone else and leans opposite his little sister. 

anonymous asked:

Hello, my skin is usually clear but I do get occasional pimples and acne, they leave pretty visible red scars and it takes them weeks to heal. How can I hurry them up or reduce their appearance?

Hello!

Red scars usually mean that it’s not on a full on scar yet but just residual inflammation, deeper scars will be more brown, especially in darker skin. 

The best way to avoid them is to prevent them by treating the acne with medicated products and using SPF to avoid darkening a spot left behind but there are a few things you can do to help them after they’re already there!

  • Exfoliating, to get rid of the damaged skin.
  • Products with Retinol and Niacinamide to help repair damaged skin/encourage new collagen. 
  • Spot Treatments (for current break out that could lead to red mark), use them RIGHT when you see a pimple coming on. 

The main way to prevent semi permanent scars is to avoid picking at your skin, popping acne, if you tear or break the skin it will take longer to heal. A pimple is a clogged pore and those heal with skincare and without squeezing/popping even though it’s tempting. If you need a pimple gone immediately for some big event you can get a cortisone injection at a dermatologist which will dramatically reduce inflammation and also prevent a scar. Cortisone injections are great for large, cystic acne because it heals the pimple quickly and prevents a red mark that cystic acne usually leaves behind. 

If you can’t make it to the dermatologist spot treatments will help heal acne quickly and prevent that little red mark. The sooner you heal the acne, the less likely it will leave residual inflammation.

I recommend Neutrogena’s On The Spot Acne Treatment!

Sangwoo at 11:00: I got you a present! Crutches! Let’s get you accustomed to them OK?
Sangwoo at 11:04: UMM???? WHY IS IT TAKING YOU SO LONG TO LEARN HOW TO USE THESE HURRY UP WE DON’T HAVE ALL DAY
Yoonbum: We-well… it’s a bit harder to stand si-since you b-broke both my legs not one–
Sangwoo:

genzelda  asked:

I want to hug your icon. Can I hug the Icon?

come on down and try your luck

unless you were being literal, which is probably the safer option:

  • Mahiru: Hey, Kuro. Get ready, we're going out.
  • Kuro: No.
  • Mahiru: What do you mean, no?
  • Kuro: I mean no. You wanna hear it in Spanish? No.
4

[FANART] Kim Namjoon

Gave myself about an hour and a half to do this and here it is~~
There are mistakes that I am aware of but I already reached my time limit so oop.

2

read in 2017 → alice’s adventures in wonderland (lewis carroll)

“and how many hours a day did you do lessons?” said alice, in a hurry to change the subject.
“ten hours the first day,” said the mock turtle: “nine the next, and so on.”
“what a curious plan!” exclaimed alice.
“that’s the reason they’re called lessons,” the gryphon remarked: “because they lessen from day to day.”

vine

How to make your family hurry up

Minseok’s number? - Byun Baekhyun (EXO Smut)

Pairing - Baekhyunxbf!reader

Request - Can you write a scenario on which Y/N is Baekhyun bestfriend and they watch the Hey Mama! MV together and she starts fangirling over Xiumin so he gets jealous because he likes her and tries to catch Y/N attention. Smut

Summery - Who knew a number could lead t hot sex?

A/n - The smut starts after the little break thingy.

Warnings - Seriously kinky. Choking. Princess kink. Daddy kink. Name it and it’s probably in here. A graphic gif. Mentions of unprotected sex.

Originally posted by adoringdo

(WHY DID YOU HAVE TO ASK FOR SMUT? I DIED CHOOSING THIS GIF!)

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Draco's fashion sense
  • *both are just out of Hogwarts*
  • Harry: *takes Draco muggle clothes shopping*
  • Draco: Potter this is really stupid, what kind of clothes could Muggles wear that could possibly be any close to appealing-
  • Armani:
  • Versace:
  • Louis Vuitton:
  • Prada:
  • Burberry:
  • Draco: well fuck fuck damnit harry how do you convert these into muggle currency, quick hurRY UP
The Styles Christmas Celebrations Routine

Twice in one day! Would you look at that. 
I wanted to some how participate in Blogmas and so I wrote this short little blurb about Harry and you celebrating christmas together. 
Hope you guys like it! 

Pic isn’t mine, but I love how warm H looks! 

My sock clad feet hurried down the stairs, my newly wed husband hot on my heels as I ran into our living room. I was conscious not to slip when I turned around the corner and giggled when I heard a low curse, followed by a thud, indicating that Harry had not payed so much attention and knocked against one of our drawers. Part of me felt bad for him, knowing all too well how easily his soft skin bruised, but selfishly I smiled, as I’d gained some distance between us. My luck wasn’t for long. I only made it just past the couch, because before I could even reach my goal, the presents under our gigantic christmas tree, two strong arms wrapped around my hips. Harry let out a triumphant laugh and hoisted me up, pressing my back against his chest. I laughed as I held onto his jumper tightly and shrieked when he hoisted me up even further. Harry’s chest rambled as he continued to chuckle, his warm breath fanning over my bare neck. He carried me with ease, the muscles in his arms strong enough to hold my weight without struggle and I wound around in his arms when he began to carry me back to the couch. I cried out when he landed rather ungracefully on the couch, me still held tight to his chest with both arms.

“What do you think you’re doing, huh? S’not time yet,” Harry asked, his voice warm and soft like honey.

I whined and wiggled, trying to free myself from him. 

“Only in your head it’s not,” I complained and pulled at his muscly arms, trying to get him to loosen his grip. 

Harry cooed at me and pressed his warm mouth to my cheek, kissing the skin noisily. It was our first christmas together as husband and wife. The first time we celebrated the festive season in this newly bought house and with the silver rings on each of our left ring-fingers. 

“Every year you try to mess up the christmas routine, love,” Harry lectured, though the smile was evident in his tone, “You can’t unwrap anything yet.”

“But it’s christmas morning!”

“Yeah it is, but you have to wait ‘till brunch is ready and Mom, Gem and Robin are here,” Harry laughed softly. 

I groaned. “And then I have to wait until you all finished eating and until you’re done singing and until you, mister Styles, are finally done retelling all of your christmas memories to everybody present and when I’m finally allowed to unwrap anything it’s well past noon!” 

“S’about right, love.” 

Harry kissed my neck softly before groaning dramatically, pushing me off of his chest and to the side so I was sprawled out on the couch. 

“Not fair,” I pouted at my husband. 

“What a child I’m married to,” Harry huffed, rolling his eyes. 

His hand reached out to rest on my stomach, drawing small circles into the skin. I smiled at how neither of us could get enough of mentioning the bond we had agreed on letting us both connect to each other. He was my husband and I was his wife. We would stay together and argue over when to celebrate christmas for many more years, until we were both grey and wrinkly and had long forgotten who’d started it anyway. 

“I love you though,” he continued with a warm smile, looking down at me with so much emotion in his eyes it made me feel fuzzy inside 

I reached out and pressed my own hand on his, squeezing his fingers as they continued to massage my stomach.

“I love you, too, Harry.” 

I smiled when I noticed our wedding rings sitting next to each other on both of our hands. Such a lovely sight. One that I still hadn’t tired off, no matter how many months had past since we’d given each other the most binding promises there are. 

“How about a deal,” Harry proposed, “You get to open one, but you can’t tell our guests about it. And you owe me something.” 

My eyes light up. “Deal!” 

I jumped from the sofa and went to crouch down by our presents, waiting for Harry to come sit by my side. Once I felt his presence behind me I reached out and took one of the smaller gifts, holding it out for Harry to approve. 

“Go on,” he muttered rather unwillingly. 

I giggled and leaned forward to kiss his cheek. “I could reciprocate the favor with a festive-christmas blowie if you want.”

This made him smile and he wrapped one of his strong arms around my shoulders. “That sounds both, sexy as well as incredibly wrong.”

Just a little something for you to enjoy. Rest of what I wrote can be found here:
 http://harryimaginedstories.tumblr.com/post/144920695218/masterlist

5

Derek x Reader


“ISAAC!” Derek bellowed when he found the beta growling loudly at your youngest child who was gurgling at him curiously.

 

“I wasn’t doing anything.” He grumbled and growled to himself when Derek scooped her up.

 

“Isaac I know it’s hard but we went through this with the others.” Derek sighed.

 

“Yeah but at least with Liam and Talia you actually made time for us.” Isaac snapped and stormed up to his attic room.

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Is There Somewhere (prologue)

Summary: When you were 8 years old when a man with a metal arm killed your parents, and let scientists experiment on you. In 2005 you escaped their control and you’ve been running since, always looking over your shoulder for the man with the metal arm. Then one day he and the Avengers show up at your door, asking you to join the team.

Bucky X Reader

Words: 1204

Authors note: Bucky is not in this chapter. It just sets up the main character.

Originally posted by agentsdaily




June 1995

Your mother was beautiful; you remember the black hair that hung low on her back and the way she spoke her language. You remember how your father would put you on his shoulders as he navigated his way through the busy streets of Manila. You remember him telling you about his country, the tall buildings of New York City and how the people there were always in such a hurry. You had it good, your parents loved each other and you got everything you ever wanted. Until one day you has nothing. 

It was a beautiful warm evening in the Philippines, you had just gone to bed and you could hear your parents laughing in their balcony. You were suddenly woken up by a loud crashing coming from your bedroom window. Your dad barged into your room and the man wearing black clothes and a mask that covered most of his face shot your father between the eyes. He put you over his right shoulder as he pulled your father’s lifeless body into the kitchen. Your mother stepped in front of him with a gun in her hand, pleading the man to leave you alone. You saw as the man grabbed your mother by the throat and throw her across the room, she slid down, blood coming out from her head and leaving a streak on the wall.

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Vines of fatigue creep up my spine
the bed too forlorn a nestular space
blue sheets will never absorb your scent
nor let linger the yawn of your warmth

I walk around dazed and dishevelled
knowing it is I who opened the door
it is you who breezed in and owned
every nook and cranny of my home
now empty and desolate and I, and I alone

entangled in exhaustion, crestfallen
conceding defeat; you’re gone,
my bed forlorn and cold, vacated
in far too much of a hurry, how
deflated this bubble of hope I carried
sits sunken in the gaunt of cheekbones
once proud now unkissed by your sun