i hate those shirts

you know what i fucking hate? those cookie cutter ass shirts that range anywhere from “it’s a [family last name] thing, you wouldn’t understand” to those 5 paragraph shirts that are like “im a badass ELEVATOR OPERATOR with THREE GRANDKIDS who look up to me, i may have HEMORRHOIDS but i still SUPPORT OUR TROOPS“ and read like a fuckin homestuck character intro

anonymous asked:

So Scott sleeps with no shirt on and I'm honestly so endeared by that? I mean it's obviously fanservice (dear jesus this boy is beautiful) but it's just. So sweet. For some reason. I imagine the nuzzliest sleepovers with Stiles tbh.

ALL RIGHT, I’M OKAY. I’M DEFINITELY NOT HERE BUZZING UP AND DOWN BECAUSE I’M IMAGINING IT. 

How about Scott initially wearing a loose T-shirt when Stiles starts climbing into bed with him? (I’m thinking they’re in that liminal space where they’re a couple, but don’t have the words for it yet.)

Scowling down at the fabric before he pulls it over his head, but he doesn’t want to make Stiles uncomfortable, doesn’t want to presume. Stiles is almost always layered up, so he’d expect that of Scott right?

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The thing about Slytherins

So I know there’s a massive stigma with Slytherin! We’re evil and mean spirited, and selfish. But can I ask you guys to think about something?
I’m Slytherin, totally and completely but when I was 7 years old and reading the HP books I always thought I would be ravenclaw because I loved reading so much and my grades were perfect or gryffindor because I wanted to be brave and I liked doing things like climbing the biggest trees or jumping off the swing when it was as high as it could go!
But things changed. That was about the same time I started getting bullied in school. I was a nerd because I was always walking around with a book. I was annoying because I was brave enough to speak my mind or I played loudly or dumb because I approached an big stray dog on the playground. By the time I was in high school I had changed because of the way people treated me. Instead of being the sweet little kid that got perfect grades and took chances I was the antisocial teen that was particularly talented at tricking others into doing what I wanted. I was the girl that, when taunted or made fun of, struck back with as much force as I could muster because at some point something inside had broken and I could no longer stand being bullied. I BECAME the bully in order to try to protect myself.
When I took the Pottermore quiz and got Slytherin I was genuinely confused at first. What was left over from when I was little expected Gryffindor or Ravenclaw but when I stopped to think about it I realized that the bullying I constantly endured turned me from a sweet little kid who wanted to read books and have fun into an adult who watched everyone like they posed a threat, the kind of person who no longer took the abuse, the kind of person who is motivated by ambition to prove to the kids that made fun of me that they aren’t any better than me.
A question I often wonder is did the bullying make me gain traits that I never had? Ambition? Cleverness? Resourcefulness? Or did it bring those traits to the forefront in order to keep myself safe?
Imagine being an eleven year old kid and being made fun of for being chosen for a house that people think is evil. Being made fun for something that you really can’t help. Imagine that the sorting hat saw those qualities hidden deep down and choosing Slytherin for that kid. Then the constant bullying from the rest of the school brought out those qualities that may not have ever really surfaced? What if the sorting hat yelling “Slytherin!” is some massive self fulfilling prophecy and that the reason that many (not all. There are family influences too– See Draco) Slytherins become the way the way they are is because they constantly hear people saying bad things about them so that they eventually harden up to protect themselves or even BELIEVE what other people say about themselves because “if ¾ths of the school believes I’m evil how can I not be?”
Something my Shakespeare teacher said really sticks with me when I think about this. “What is reputation? Do you create your reputation through your actions? Or does your reputation influence the way you act instead? If you constantly hear that you’re a bad person will you eventually become one because ‘why not be what they all say I am anyway?’” Kind of like Sirius trying to kill Peter. Why not be guilty of what I’ve been punished for years for?
Think about what kind of person is more likely to be mean, someone who is told from age 11 that they are a) brave, courageous, great b) smart, intelligent, clever c) kind, humble or d) evil, bad, in the same place that all bad people come from (because no one ever compliments slytherin a for being ambitious or cunning even though those aren’t terrible traits depending on how you use them)
Imagine being sorted into a house that 75 percent of people think is evil. Wouldn’t that make an eleven year old kid think that maybe they’re evil or bad? (Not the case for everyone. Umbridge and voldy were straight up evil)
And here’s the thing, I’m not evil but I AM mischievous, I’m not bad but I DO have a temper, I’m not a particularly selfish person but I’ve learned to put myself first then to focus on the problems of others because how can I help if I can’t focus? (Helping animals comes before me though, the fluffers AND the scaly ones)
At this point in my life I’m cunning, ambitious, and resourceful but I’m not evil or a horrible person (unless you mess with my bff who’s a hufflepuff because then I’ll end you) and I hate when people see my Slytherin shirt and go “oh those are the bad guys!” Yeah? Well so was Peter and Andromeda was a Slytherin and she gave birth to Tonks so sod off!
I guess what I’m trying to say is that as horrible as everyone seems to think Slytherins are, think about the fact that someone out there made them that way.

Accidental insult starters

“Heels really make a difference. I had no idea you were this short.”
“Wow, I expected you’d be well hung– Shit, sorry.”
“I hate that shirt! Please tell me you didn’t order it already…”
“Those glasses look so stupid on you, hahaha! Oh wait… they’re not fake?”
“How stuffed is your bra, because they looked way bigger befo– Damn, did I say that out loud?”
“I see your little sister shares your Spotify account, that’s so sweet!”
“You have to be so stupid to not know that! I can’t believe he didn’t have the answer. I mean, you knew that one, right?”
“Haha, why are you wearing that in your hair?! Take it off, you’re making me feel embarrassed.”
“I’ve got plasters against blisters. Seeing you walk like that in those shoes is making me cringe.”
“I can’t believe people who’re into bondage. I mean, what’s wrong with them?”
“I can’t believe people who’re only into plain vanilla sex. How boring do you have to be for that?”
“Who made these cookies? They’re awful!”
“Why aren’t you ready yet, we have to leave! …Or are you going like that?”
“What do I keep smelling? Someone forgot to wear deodorant today.”
“Is it really raining that hard? Your make-up is all over the place.”

i hate guys that wear those t shirts that say “this is what a feminist looks like” and seem socially aware but they’re just assholes looking to get into people’s pants by seeming like an an activist and semi-decent person. like one minute they’re cool because they want people with uteri to have rights to their own body but the next they get pissed because a girl “put them in the friendzone,” or they say they say they’re such a good ally to poc but the black lives matter movement is “uncivilised” and “too radical” for them. drop em.

You meet Catboy Garfield when you go to grab the same frozen lasagne at the supermarket. You are both wearing Seibei shirts.

You look at each other and both kind of laugh. He starts to walk away but you go out on a limb and ask him if he wants to get coffee.

He looks surprised and a little suspicious. His tail sways as he thinks. He narrows his eyes. “I have to go to a birthday party first.”

“Oh, okay…” You’re not sure what that means.
“I mean, it’s gonna suck. This guy sucks. But you can come with if you want.” He looks hopeful

“Are you sure your friend won’t mind?”
He scoffs a little. "He’s not really my– he like…he’s one of those assholes who loves everyone.”

You shrug. “I have no plans. I was gonna eat this lasagne and watch something.”
He also shrugs. "Cool. I mean, it’s going to totally suck.”

You both buy your food and he offers you a ride. You climb into the passenger’s seat of his 1994 Honda Civic hatchback. It smells nostalgic.

When he starts the car, “Helena” starts blasting. He quickly turns off the stereo, blushing.
“I got this CD as a joke,” he explains shakily.

You peek at him out of the corner of your eye and watch the way the shifting lights of the streetlamps play off his features as he drives.

He’s cute, you decide, smiling a little when you notice that he’s wearing a little bit of smudged black eyeliner– the same way you wear it.

He lowers the volume knob before turning the stereo back on, quickly changing it to the local college radio station.
“So,” you start to say.

“Oh right, yeah, I spaced out for a second there,” he says, smiling a little and exposing a single little fang. “Um, I’m Garfield, btw.”

He literally says “bee tee double-you” and doesn’t seem embarrassed by it like at all. When you tell him your name, he just kind of nods.

“Nice to meet you?” you say in that way that’s intentionally awkward because you’re pointing out that the whole situation is kinda awkward.

Catboy Garfield is right. The party sucks. It’s full of positivity bros trading really trite platitudes and lifting tips while drinking IPAs.

The birthday boy is THRILLED to see him, and it’s hilarious to watch Catboy Garfield get hugged so hard by a guy in a puca shell necklace.

“Don’t touch me Odie. Anyways, happy birthday.”
Odie takes the Ralph’s bag, pulls out the lasagne and smiles even bigger than before. "BRO!”

You’re stuck listening to a conversation about the best Crossfit in the city when Catboy Garfield comes to your rescue. “Let’s go,” he says.

You end up going back to his apartment (which was kind of your goal anyways, if you’re gonna be real about it) and sitting on the couch.

While he’s in the bathroom, you look around a little. He has a pretty sweet Danelectro in the corner and a mess of cords connected to the tv.

There’s about 15 different Nintendo 64 cartridges scattered across the carpet and every game is pretty terrible, if you remember correctly.

He comes back out wearing sweatpants, which are slung just low enough for you to see the swell of his belly hanging over the waistband.

You exhale quickly, trying not to stare.
“You wanna watch something?” He asks, sitting down next to you and smiling that little smile again.

“I mean, whatever,” you say. “Anything that isn’t Friends or Scrubs or something horribly offensive like that.”
"Ugh, right? I hate those.”

He points at your HFIL shirt, “Dragonball Z?”
His presence next to you feels warm and solid and you don’t care about tv. "Sounds good!”

“Cool,” he grabs the remote and smiles a little bigger, big enough that you can see more teeth. You wonder if they’re as sharp as they look.

You hadn’t noticed before, but his t shirt is a size or two too small, and it begins to peel up, exposing black markings on his side.

They’re the same pattern as the ones on his tail. His ears have them too, you realize. How can you ask to touch them without seeming weird?

Catboy Garfield’s recently watched on Hulu is a mix of 90s-00s anime and Criterion films. There’s a lot of Fassbinder. Your face gets hot.

“Just pick any episode,” you say, kind of too quickly, grateful that the couch is pretty small and praying you’ve read the situation right.

He hits play and settles into the couch, looking more comfortable than anyone you’ve ever seen.
“I love this couch,” he purrs, smiling lazily

You’re sweating with nerves and you think “fuck it” and put your arm around him tentatively.
“Is this okay?”
He purrs and snuggles into you.

You try to breathe slowly so your heart stops racing but it’s tough because you want to throw him on the floor and never stop touching him.

You’re not usually very aggressive, but he’s just so soft and round and warm and comfortable that like??? It’s a natural reaction.

You don’t do that, because you’re not a fucking creep, but you tuck it away as something you might do later. Instead you pet his hair.

You can feel his purring– it rumbles through his body and yours. So you let your fingers slowly wander to his ears, stroking them softly.

The purring and the low noise of the television and the soft fur against your fingertips is hypnotic. Before you know it the episode is over.

You start to say something, but are interrupted by a not-that-quiet snore.
Fuck.
He fucking fell asleep.

The next episode starts up automatically. You want to be pissed off, but you look at his face and he’s even fucking cuter when he sleeps.

So you just keep petting him and watch few more episodes. It’s midnight when you turn off the tv and stand up to leave. Should you wake him?

You say his name. You touch his shoulder. You say his name louder. You shake him gently. He doesn’t wake up, but he does frown in his sleep.

You grab some paper and a pen.
"Garfield– Call me when you wake up, you hot sleepy idiot” and include your name and number.

You tape the note to your lasagne and leave it in the freezer for him to find. “PS- Don’t eat the whole thing without me” you add.

He does eat the whole thing without you, but he also calls exactly 14 hours later, half asleep.
“Hey it’s Garfield. Want to get breakfast?”

The Personal Trainer

PART 5: Focus

Time passes.  Things change.  Things always change, though, right?  I mean, I’m not who I was a month or so ago, and you’re not either.  No one is, not really.  Don’t think about it too hard, you’ll end up with a headache.  I know I do.  I don’t know if it’s because of the gym, or what, but I have headaches all the time lately.  It could be stress.  That’s what people say.  Maybe I’ve been thinkin too hard.  But I don’t feel like I have been.  In fact, I’m distracted a lot more lately.  I can’t watch an episode of TV without my eyes drifting to the muscles.  If there aren’t any muscles?  I lose interest.  I’ve started watching sports, more than usual.  It’s just that that’s how I want my body to be.  Well-oiled machine, you know?

My priorities are changing.  It’s exciting, really.  I work out four times a week now instead of the three days when I started.  Four days on, three days off.  I do way less on the elliptical - ten minutes down from twenty.  More time with the weights.  With Ben.  It was his idea, really, and what Ben says go.  He’s been helping me with my diet, too.  I eat three meals a day right now.  He says that’ll probably go up to six eventually.  I have hard-boiled eggs and a protein shake in the morning.  Then I bike.  I bike a good solid five miles, then I go to work.  God, work fucking sucks lately.  I don’t know if I told you, I work in a supermarket, but one of those upscale ones that are more like a health-food store.  I guess it kind of fits, but at the same time, people are just so fucking stupid, you know?  Man, and being there, I just want to be at the gym.  Maybe that’s where the headaches are coming from.  Wanting to go to the gym.  I mean, I can’t live there.  I know that’s dumb.  Haha.  Living at the gym would be cool though.  If I could do it.  Maybe I could work at the gym.  That’d be fucking cool as shit.  But no, I better just stick with this job.  I do see a lot of muscles at my job.  Dudes coming in from the gym, usually in athletic gear, fresh from a pump.  Man, I get fuckin jealous.  Sometimes I get lucky and a dude comes in wearin once of those stringer tanks, and you can see the whole fuckin thing.  Lats, traps, delts, bis, tris, pecs … I get kind of drifty just thinking about it, I lose focus, and gotta snap back.  Then the headache starts.

I don’t know how I ever did it without Ben’s help.  Before, I thought I knew what I was doin, thought I could just figure it out as I went.  No, with Ben’s help I’m getting bigger.  I can feel it.  And something inside of me is changing too.  The way I sit, the way I stand.  The clothes I wear.  I’ll be honest, I’ve been spending a huge chunk of time on eBay lately, and I don’t even really remember what I click on.  I just have started coming home to packages on the front porch, and I know inside that it’s something I got on eBay, but I forgot actually purchasing it.  I open it up and of course, it’s a gym shirt.  Somethin light, because I hate those heavy cotton blends that stick to me and soak up the sweat and get heavier.  I like Nike Pro Combat Dri-fits, personally.  Love the ones that say Just Do It, too.  I used to think that was kind of a stupid motto, but it’s never made more sense to me than now.  That’s the secret, right there in plain sight - for everyone to see! - that’s the answer, Just Do It.  You Just Do It.  You don’t Think About It, you Just Do It.  Ben’s always got some Nike on.  I think he might be a bit of a sneakerhead.  Always has a different pair on when we meet.  I teased him about it once, said something like, “You got more shoes than a girl.”

Funny, I came home a few days later and I had a box on the porch.  It was a brand new pair of Nike Stutter Steps, pretty close to the bright blue and white ones Ben had on the other day.  I didn’t remember buying them, but I actually kind of secretly liked them, so, that was the end of that.  Or the beginning of that.  Or something.  Man, this headache.

It slowly started to feel like I didn’t have enough hours in the day.  At first, I tried to balance my social life and my gym life and my work life.  But if I drank too much, I was up too late, my body was still processing the alcohol, and I laid around in bed all morning instead of getting up, eating, biking.  Something had to give, and it was my social life that took the brunt of it.  I couldn’t be out as much, didn’t actually want to be.  I was slowly detaching from my old life, like an escape pod from a space ship, watching it get smaller and smaller in the distance.  I had to focus on my life, on my self.  I had to be better, stronger.  I had to see the look on Ben’s face, that flickering, almost satisfied look, while he crosses his strong forearms and nods his head approvingly.  “You’re gonna be a muscle man, sport,” he said one day, and I grinned the biggest grin I’ve ever grinned.  Man, the gym makes me so happy.  I feel like I’m right where I’m supposed to be when I’m lifting weights.  Everything seems brighter, sharper, in focus.  I’ve even moved up to using the free-weights, and I left some of the machines behind.  Ben said that soon, I might not even need his help, which makes me a little sad, but he says we can still hang out, if I want to.  And well, fuck yeah I want to.  I told him how I kinda don’t really have many friends, well, except for him and the weights.  I get kinda bored sometimes, if I’m not at the gym, and he nodded and laughed and said “Yeah that’ll happen.  It’s okay, bro.”  That was the first time he called me bro, and I felt like I had earned it, like it was a medal I was putting on, or a belt.  We’d been high-fiving and fist-pounding for weeks now.

Then it came time for the bill.  I had no idea, I was fucking floored, at how much money I owed MuscleMind Training.  I had lost track of all the sessions I’d had with Ben.  I would have to get on some kind of payment plan maybe.  Fuck.  My headache just gets worse and worse around numbers lately.  I keep fucking up when they put on as cashier at work, so much that I haven’t been on cashier for awhile.  I do a lot of stocking.  I help out with the heavier boxes, mostly because that’s just where I ended up, but also because it’s the most like the gym.  Weird to not be wearing my gym clothes though.  But yeah, fuck.  I owed them a ton of money, and I had no idea what I was gonna do to pay it back.  Ben would know, right?  It would be OK to ask him what he thought I should do, right?  They must run into this problem all the time. 

Yeah.  Ben would know what to do.

[to be continued.]

meepmorp-and-suffering  asked:

Dip or Chip: 1, 7, 11, 12, 18

1: Who spends almost all their money on the other?

“Hey kid, I got you a little something.”
“Is it another screaming head?”
“Nah, that’s for your birthday. Go on, open it, it’s not going to bite.”“The complete set of Bullfinch’s Encyclopedia of Cryptids? Dude, this is amazing! Where’d you get these?”
“Oh, I know a guy.”
“Wait, these are out of print and usually cost an arm, a leg, and an additional arm.”
“Eh, don’t worry about it.”
“…outright theft or counterfeiting?”
“Are they not the same crime, Pine Tree? Don’t look at me like that, kid, you know my moral compass is a corkscrew.”
“…I’ll go make some room on the shelf.” 


7: Which one constantly wears the other’s clothes? 

“Man, I hate to break it to you, but those shirts you keep stealing are from the dirty laundry pile. There is a difference.“
"Oh, I know.”
“Okay. If you’re going to wear my clothes, don’t you at least want some of the clean ones?”
“Nah, I do it for that fresh Pine Tree scent.”
“Get out." 

11: If they were about to rob a museum, which one does backflips through lasers and which one is strolling behind with a bag of chips?

"Pick up the pace, kid! This is a heist!”
“Why? Why are we doing this?”
“Why didn’t you try to stop me when I suggested it?”
“Because I know how to choose my battles. And why don’t you just teleport us in? You do that all the time!”
“But this is more fun. Get in the spirit of things, Pine Tree!”
“We’re robbing a museum for an artifact I expressed interest in in passing once.”
“…you know, I came out to have a good time and I’m honestly feeling so attacked right no…aw shit.”
“Did you just trigger the alarm?”
“Maybe?”
“That sounds a lot like the alarm.”
“So I triggered the alarm. Big deal.”
That sounds like security dogs. Wait, what the hell? What kind of museum-”
“Shut up and run, kid.”
“WHY DON’T YOU JUST TELEPORT US THERE?”
“That’s boring. Don’t be boring." 

12: Which one of your OTP overdoes it on the alcohol and which one makes the other stop drinking? 

"HEY KID DID I TELL YOU ABOUT THAT TIME-”
“…you beat a bunch of Eldritch abominations in poker?”
“How’d you know?”
“You’ve related that story three times tonight. Also I’m really surprised you haven’t succumbed to alcohol poisoning yet.”
“I’m a being of pure fuckin’ energy kid, you don’t even know. I don’t have any weaknesses! Except for you.
“Yeah, it’s probably time to get you home before you get arrested for either public indecency or public intoxication.”
“Why not both?”
“PUT YOUR SHIRT BACK ON." 

18: Who’s the first one to admit they have feelings for the other? 

"So what’s this all about? Any recent plans for interdimensional subjugation or anything like that?”
“Well…not exactly.”
“Really?”
“Maybe later.”
“Oh. Well…what did you want to talk about?”
“So. Meatbags are stupid. You’re full of disgusting fluids, you rely on primitive biological processes to keep your stupid meatbag bodies functioning, and you think way too highly of yourselves for a species that has to use their noodly appendages for everything.”
“Did you really drag me out here to roast me? Because we could have done this back at the Shack.”
“But…of all the stupid humans on this insignificant planet, you’re the least stupid.”
“…seriously?”
“You’re the only pine tree in the forest I wouldn’t burn down.”
“This is getting weird.”
“Of all the homicidal thoughts I’ve ever had, the ones involving you have been the least appealing.”
“Yeah, I like you too.”
“If I was going to…huh? Why?”
“Because my life would be really boring without you in it.”
“Oh.”
“What, did you not plan any further than dragging me out in the woods and confessing in the creepiest way possible?”
“Nope. That’s where the planning stage petered out.”
“You’re a real pain in the ass.”
“There’s no other ass I’d rather be a pain in more than yours.”
“Wow. That was some pretty poorly worded innuendo.”
“Shut up, Pine Tree.

9

Tony Goldwyn on Periscope for Vidiots Foundation 11.15.15

Pretty Lady (Chen) - Part Two

In case anyone was wondering; the blonde boy; the girlJongin and Sehun’s performance; Yixing’s Solo Performance and Tao, Yixing, Luhan and Minseok’s performance

Enjoy part two and if you haven’t seen it already, check out this post from a little while ago. 

Part One / Part Two / Part ThreePart Four / Part Five / Part Six

Kim Jongdae had the laugh of an angel, but the maturity of a nursery class. 

At break, you met Oh Sehun – “Is that a girl? Junmyeon talks to girls?” – and Kim Jongin – “I reckon Baek pulled her with his hapkido.” – and are reassured that the two would take good care of you in your next lesson, standing either side of you as you made your way there. Both were tall and slender, and in comparison to the three smaller boys you met first (and Chanyeol), you felt incredibly tiny, but still, safe.

“I’m going to assume you got stuck with Junmyeon as a guide, right?” Jongin suggests, getting a nod in reply. “And that means you had music first, too, right?” Another nod.

“Do you ever speak?”

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Dammit Niall

Okay, so Niall.  Niall.  I can’t handle Niall.  I just saw that picture of him kissing Wiz Khalifa on the cheek again and it reminded me HOW MUCH I CAN’T HANDLE NIALL.

So Harry breaks gender norms pretty blatantly and I think we’re mostly agreed on that. He’s a wonderful, baby Tarzan-ing, banana eating, twirly little ball of glitter.

But then there’s Niall.  Low key Niall.  Niall wants to wear floral shoes.  Niall doesn’t think “I’m gonna go break gender norms!”  Niall thinks “…” because I don’t think gender norms register to him most of the time.  If Niall wants to wear floral shoes, Niall goddamn wears floral shoes and that’s all there is to it! If Niall wants to wear shirts that should really be called dresses because they’re so long and I HATE THAT STYLE ON HIM but it’s those shirts I’m referring to, he wears those shirts!  Even if they make him look tiny and small and like a delicate flower, not at all like a manly man, he will frickin’ wear them and be all giggly because it’s Niall fashion and he loves it.  ALSO THE ROLLED-UP SLEEVES, but we’re not going to talk about those because we want to avoid a complete meltdown.  

If Niall frickin’ Horan wants to kiss RANDOM MALE ALMOST-STRANGERS ON THE CHEEK, Niall frickin’ Horan does it!  If Niall gets picked up and flung around like a very well taken care of rag doll by every male he ever meets, far be it from him to think about how men aren’t supposed to let themselves be vulnerable like that. Nope, Niall just goes along for the ride.  You want to call him cute?  That’s fine. Everyone else is rough-housing?  Ed Sheeran says Niall just sits there quietly. No need to be violent or testosterone-driven like the stereotyped teen male.

He cooks and he’s damn vocal about it.  Harry’s going to get into a real fist fight with him one day if he doesn’t stop claiming he’s the best chef.  I want a cook-off to decide once and for all.  And he doesn’t just cook.  He bakes.  And he cleans and irons AND LIKES TO KEEP HIS THINGS ALL NEAT AND ORDERLY INSTEAD OF LIKE A PIGSTY.  Has he ever been defensive about it?  Nope!

Niall is a fanboy and proud of it.  He will fanboy his little heart to its content and he won’t even notice if you try to side-eye it.  Michael Buble is his idol and Justin Bieber is his dream and that’s perfectly natural and there’s nothing to comment on.  He dotes on his real nephew and I’m pretty sure is trying to collect the largest collection of nephews and nieces that don’t actually belong to him.  He’s already claimed the Buble and Humes children, he even has a stake on the little Tomlinsons.  WHO WILL BE NEXT?  This nesty little fecker.  

Niall James I’M GONNA KILL YOU SOFTLY BECAUSE I HAVE NO RESPECT FOR YOUR FEELINGS Horan watches the Kardashians and breaks down into a crying mess at The Fault in Our Stars.  And self-reported these things happily during that one interview.  He actually wanted to go into a long, heartfelt discussion about The Fault in Our Stars, you could really tell.  Shame at watching “girly” stuff?  What’s that?  Is it something for eating?

WHAT IS NIALL HORAN?! I will never understand, but at least I get to sit here and watch him and obsess over trying to understand when I already know how that’s going to end.