i will get into shape

anonymous asked:

Hi I was afab and I'm nb two questions; 1: I may need glasses what is the most androgynous shape 2: how could I get a binder that is good quality without my parents knowing about it or maybe there is binders that pass as sports bras/athletic wear??? Sorry for the long question thank you for your help

I imagine the ‘most androgynous’ glasses shape for you will depend on the shape of your face, as different frames emphasize different facial features. So perhaps googling “androgynous glasses” or something similar and seeing if you can find someone with a similar face to your + what glasses they wear could be useful.

Getting a high compression sports bra could perhaps work? Bras like [the frog bra] and [the extreme magic cotton bra] are ones I have heard a lot of good about, but there are of course many other options.

[gc2b] ships their binders is very discrete packages too, so if you think a half binder from there could pass as a sports bra to your parents, that might be an option too.

If any of my followers have any other advice or suggestions, please feel free to add to this post.

anonymous asked:

My friend is helping me to try and find a custom chewelry maker so I can get one shaped like Captain America's sheild! I'm really excited for it! We're also working on getting fidget cubes!

Ahhhh that’s so cool and exciting!!!

5

> [Xiumin] “No slacking! You’re not leaving until you finish this entire pudding!”
> [Mongmong] “Kya kya!!”
> [Suho] “U-Ugh, how can people eat such unhealthy things… But that memory… I can remember Chen telling me to get in shape after eating so much sweets. That was before we left to go somewhere… Where did we go…?”
> As he trails off, another spoonful of pudding gets shoved into Suho’s mouth while Mongmong brandishes a lollipop.

anonymous asked:

So you probably don't remember me but I came on here a few months back talking about how me and my friend started working out together, and how I want to get in shape for my sister's wedding, well I bought my bridesmaid dress today and I'm two sizes down!!! I'm so happy!

THAT’S AWESOME!!!!

I do remember you bc you reminded me about my brother’s wedding that I’m working towards!

I’m so so happy for you sweetheart 

Originally posted by ultraselfdeprecatingnarcissist

Here’s a hard truth: getting back into shape isn’t easy, or glamorous, or fun, or sexy. It isn’t quick, it isn’t painless, and it isn’t pretty.

This is what it is: it’s staying in on a Saturday night so you can hydrate and get enough sleep before a long run that is exactly a quarter of the distance you used to run on long run days. It’s convincing yourself that that run even matters, short as it is. It’s convincing yourself to take that run seriously, short as it is.

It’s wearing compression socks under your jeans to work, hoping your over-worked legs will miraculously feel better by the time your run rolls around. It’s using every mental trick you know - just get to that lamppost, just get to that fire hydrant, just get to your street - to keep yourself running when they don’t.

It’s rolling out a mat and doing core work at the foot of your bed after you run, even though you’d rather be in that bed, preferably watching Netflix with a glass of wine. It’s doing yoga videos alone in your basement. It’s bringing your foam roller with you wherever you go, and trying to laugh it off when your friends make fun of you, again, for taking it so seriously. 

It’s schlepping it to the gas station during a snowstorm so you can buy two bags of ice. It’s shivering while you carry them inside your house. It’s shivering even harder when you lower yourself into a homemade ice bath and force yourself to sit there for 20 minutes. It’s hoping that it works.

It’s two plates at dinner, trying to make sure you’re eating enough. It’s forcing yourself to drive to the store on a weeknight when you run out of frozen vegetables. It’s praying that that thing you heard about bananas speeding up recovery is true because everything hurts and you have a run on the schedule and you can’t skip a day because you’ll lose momentum.

It’s learning that momentum is a precious thing - the most precious thing. It’s realizing that it doesn’t matter how bright the fire burns, as long as it’s still alive. It’s dedicating your entire existence to stoking it, in the big ways and the small ways, doing whatever you can to make sure that when you wake up in the morning, you’ve still got a spark to work with.

It’s not easy. It’s not glamorous. It’s not fun, or sexy, or quick, or painless. It really, truly is not pretty. 

But I have to believe it will be worth it.

4

Viktor Nikiforov’s heart-shaped mouth is the reason I wake up every morning.

I mean, jesus, who does that? Does he even knows he does that? Is that a russian thing?

anonymous asked:

I really want dan to tell us stories of is rebellious teen years like his experimentation with drugs and party life and stuff... too bad he won't because of how some fans will react to it, like emulate it or go crazyfan about it instead of just listening to it and having a laff

i wrote this and sent it to myself i love time travel :) ok but like.. i want him to tell us abt his Cool Boy life so much… bad party stories……. first times he got high n drunk……… best things he acted in and tiny behind the scenes snippets and stories of the funny things his drama class did ……….. stories abt his friends that arent necessarily abt Them but the Things He Did With Them ie “emos go to the mall”…. hes not even that cool but like i just wanna Know all the dumb teenagery things he did i want to make fun of him so bad

Patater Week - Day 1

Feb. 6- Get Together – (Coraline-inspired AU, magical realism, 6.4K)
Soundtrack: [Exploration] + [Dreaming]

There’s a low, paint-chipped door in the corner of Alexei Mashkov’s living room in Providence.

His agent tells him that the door used to connect to the apartment next to his, a long time ago, when the structure had been one. The door leads to nowhere now, only a wall of bricks. Alexei has even seen the wall of bricks in person, when he requested the landlord open the door for fun. He’s always been curious, after all, and the old, rusted key that the agent picks out from the cabinets only added to that curiosity.

“You’ll get yourself into trouble one day, Lyosha,” his grandmother used to tell him. Alexei had been young, perhaps seven or eight, when she warned him. “Don’t ask so many questions, and try to be happy, or the spirits will see, and take you.” She had said, “Don’t go through strange doors, and don’t follow voices, especially if they sing to you.”

“What’s so bad about singing?” Alexei had demanded, in a petulant way only a seven-year-old can manage. “I sing.”

“Yes, love, but they sing to confuse you,” his grandmother had responded. “They sing of a life better than the one you have, so you want to come to them. You see? They want to trick you and steal you away.”

Of course, Alexei had thought her warning had been metaphorical, if not slightly cryptic. She’d been old then, and easily confused. If you take out the spirits part, the rest sound more or less logical. He figured that she doesn’t want him talking to strangers and end up kidnapped, so Alexei had merely nodded and promised her. No going in strange doors, no following the singing voice, not that there’d been any in his life. Until now.

The bricks are nothing special: the seams filled with cement, the corners dusty with cobwebs. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, but there’s a draft that only Alexei can feel because when he mentions it to the agent, she only blinks in confusion.

“Why not lock it?” Alexei asks, when the agent pockets the old key and closes the old, wooden door.

“Why should I?” the agent says, smiling. “The wall is bricked up. Not like there’s anything that can come out. Now, let’s go to the kitchen. The structure itself is a little old, almost 150 years, but it’s been recently remodeled. It’s got a beautiful granite counter top—”

Alexei loves the house. But doesn’t know why he feels uneasy about the door. When he gets the keys to the house, he finds the rusted key again and locks the door. 

Keep reading

i dont even like drinking anymore
i dont like smoking either
i just want to find my person
grow with them
get in shape
start my career
learn french
get a cute loft with said person
with exposed brick
and a spiral staircase
and one of those old fridges with a latch as a handle
surrounded by succulents
i want to write my novel
in my dads sweater
with the typewriters I collected in my 20s
i want to be 40 with my person
and our son Jude
he has his mothers nose
i have my fathers eyes
they’re distinguishing