leather like pants

PENALTY GAME
yugi’s shirt and leather pants: become a crop top and capris
joey’s t-shirt and jeans: become the powder-blue hell that yugi now lives in

5 times yura wore otabeks clothes on Accident and one time it wasnt an accident

1. ACTUAL ACCIDENT

It’s, overall, a pretty shitty day for Yura so far.

It’s not even that he forgot to charge his phone the night before, and is now watching it shut down again after obnoxiously letting him know of its lack of battery and competence. It’s not, even, the fact that his phone being dead all night meant it conveniently didn’t wake him up in time for his 10am class. It’s not, even, the fact that said class is in 13 minutes and he’s 15 minutes from campus.

No, the real cherry on the toothpaste sundae is the fact that when he and Otabek stumbled to their room last night, drunk off their asses and all over each other, they didn’t bother to sort out the laundry.

So, here he is, phone charger precariously stretched across the table from the wall plug (in the most ridiculous and unaccessible place possible) to where he’s checking the time every 2 minutes while pulling on his last pair of clean jeans and simultaneously trying to arrange his hair into something less ‘bird nest’ and more ‘artfully messy’. It all goes great, except he can’t put his phone down on the floor and needs one hand to pull on his pants and There Are No More Hands Left For The Hair, but he makes do. See, Yura makes do like the model student he is, until he looks down and realizes he’s still in his pyjama shirt.

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Types of BTS stans
  • Namjoon stans: fake deep but extremely aesthetic, the biggest perverts out of all ARMYs, would gladly drown themselves in namjoon's dimples, 50% secondhand embarrassment, 50% proud moms, wives and girlfriends
  • Seokjin stans: almost as fabulous as their bias and they know it, hella sassy, everyone wants to be friends with them, jin makes them either very emotional or very horny, there's no in between
  • Yoongi stans: sarcastic af but also very soft, they think they're savage but in reality they're sweet as sugar, actually really nice but they won't admit it, usually art hoes, yoongi spitting fire is their aesthetic
  • Hoseok stans: 150% chill, 100% sunshine and rainbows, spreading love all around the world, can watch hobi dance 25/8, in love with literally everything their bias does but tbh who can blame them, this guy poops glitter
  • Jimin stans: protection squad hoes even though they sin all day everyday, addicted to sexy/cute jimin videos, not even trying to pretend they're pure but somehow they're actual fluff balls, screamers
  • Taehyung stans: adorable little shits, they say inappropriate stuff without realizing, very friendly and loyal, like to talk a lot about things that make them happy, probably running a sideblog for taehyung's eyebrows
  • Jungkook stans: in constant denial that their bias is an adult now, most likely leather pants biggest fans, they want to fight kook pretty much all the time, legit memes, good puns, either 200% chill or -17462% chill

anonymous asked:

Were Hook's EF vests made of leather like his coat and pants?

black leather

red leather

black velvet

RED VEST OF SEX

(I think it’s just some red patterned material)

Dark one leather

Princely twill type stuff

And that’s my guide to Killian’s EF vests. I hope I haven’t forgotten any!!

Undeniable Heat Chapter 42: Karaoke

Jensen Ackles x Reader

1250 Words

Story Summary: You’ve just gotten a job as one of the makeup artists on the set of Supernatural. Nervous on the first day, you become completely awkward, winning the affection of the divorced Jensen Ackles. You try to fight your desire for him, but he thwarts you at every turn. Will you be able you separate work and play, or will you let Jensen win?

Catch Up Here: Masterpost

After a wonderful dinner making so many more friends, Jensen had pulled you by his side, all of you making your way to the convention hotel where Karaoke was getting ready to start. Walking through the back hallways, you were quickly swept into a room full of tables, food and costumes. Grabbing bags, Brianna and Kim brushed past you, heading towards the bathroom. “Y/N, come help us!” Brianna threw over her shoulder, and looking at Jensen, you shrugged your shoulders, following them. Standing by the sinks, you waited as both women struggled to get dressed in the small stalls, laughing as you heard them cussing.

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anonymous asked:

Hi, why do u hate the book Malec i mean i have not read the books but i want to and every time i see a post hating Book Malec it is just puts me and it is 6 books is all the malec in all the books like that !!? Thanks

I’ve done quite a lot about this in my anti cc tag, but here’s the main gist of it:
- When they meet, Magnus is over 400 years old and Alec is 17
- They date and kiss (if I’m remembering correctly) while Alec is 17
- There is a post that counts the amount of Malec scenes in the books and there were about 60 in a book series with over 1700 pages
- Magnus kept trying to pressure Alec to come out into an extremely homophobic society to the extent that he refuses to speak to him until he comes out
- When Magnus tells Alec that he’s bi, Alec constantly accuses him of cheating or of having dated everyone that he sees
- It’s played off as insecurity despite him not having cared before he told him he likes women too
- Nobody goes ‘hey Alec that’s a really shitty thing to say’, they just let him be biphobic as hell
- Magnus refuses to tell him literally ANYTHING about his past until the 6th book
- He is so adamant about not telling him that when Camille tells Alec that she used to date Magnus, Alec believes her over his boyfriend
- Camille convinces Alec to try to steal Magnus’ immortality behind his back
- They literally broke up because they are so shitty at communicating
- Alec is the Token Gay
- He is portrayed as weaker than the others (17 years old and has never killed a demon whereas Simon kills a demon immediately)
- (Not really related but Magnus’ fashion sense is just so shitty I mean Jesus Christ how is that stylish?????? Like rainbow leather pants and vests without shirts??? I’m pretty sure he’s a disco ball pretending to be a man????)
- Magnus is creepy as shit, like in the BC he sees a ‘shadowhunter youth’ and says 'sorry I was distracted, someone hot just came in’
- Casserole Chicken fetishises them and likely only put them in so we got excited about gay and bisexual representation and decided to read it
- She says that she loves Malec even though she killed Alec off in the first draft of CoB and originally never wrote Magnus
- She wrote a book about the missing scenes with Malec because she barely wrote any originally and wanted to get money off the LGBT+ community

Aranea: Psst! I’ve got some of it written down now.

Ignis: Give it here. Hah! “His erection strained against the leather animal print pants, like a wild stallion corralled against its will. He pounced, the smooth moves of a jungle cat, and locked his thighs against Noctis’ waist. He-" 

Prompto: WHAT?!? 

Ignis & Aranea: (Simultaneously) Nothing! 

Prompto: WHAT IS THAT?! 

-Ignis and Aranea both stifling a laugh-

Ignis: Aranea thought she’d celebrate your love affair with… written dedication. 

Aranea: It’s friend fiction! I do it out of love! 

Prompto: Wahh, I will never EVER be clean again.

Aranea: Maybe you should read the rest of it in private.

Ignis: I think that’s best.

storm ; [yoonmin || bts]

STORM

Pairing: Park Jimin x Min Yoongi
Genre: angst, kinda smut
Music: first love - BTS / sad piano music tbh
Plot: Jimin’s caught out in a storm, and forced to park his car in a nearby neighbourhood. By chance, he crosses paths with his former lover, Yoongi, and feelings of bitterness, regret, and lust emerge in the tight space of Jimin’s car.

Notes: first time writing angst, first time writing for bts, and first time posting to tumblr so forgive me if the writing sucks or there’s weird formatting errors. anyone have any tips on how tf formatting works?

Word Count: 3,600

The windshield wipers moved furiously, batting the rain out of the way. However, not a second later, it would be covered by the raindrops once more; whatever actions he did was futile against the aggressive storm. Wind howled outside, sending leaves flying from their branches, the thunder roaring in the distance, lighting flashing and illuminating the surrounding sky. The rain beat down on the roof of his car, loudly and angrily, similar to a kid throwing a tantrum. 

A loud clap of thunder made him jump in his own skin, and his hand yanked the steering wheel to the side, his car swerving onto the side of the road. 

Shit, he mentally cursed. Thank god there were no other cars on the highway, it was him and him alone, caught in the misfortune of driving home after a drunken party at one of his friends. The rain was falling down hard, blurring the windshield and his line of sight, therefore he had no choice but to turn out to the nearest exit. 

He kept driving for a while longer, praying that he wouldn’t get into an accident of any sort, before he parked the car to the side of the road in a small neighbourhood. 

Checking his phone, he opened up the maps to see where he was. It had turned out that he was in a neighbourhood an hour away from his place, and he sighed knowing that he could never get home safely, with how terrible the current weather was. His fingers dancing on the screen, he had opened up the messages app and was furiously typing away to his roommate Hoseok, attempting to explain why he wasn’t home yet. Just as he finished the message and pressed send, the signal bar on his phone glitched a couple times, before the two words ‘No Service’ sent his heart dropping down to his stomach. 

He wasn’t much of a curser, but he felt like one when a string of angry swears fell out of his mouth. They sounded bizarre coming from him, his sweet, angelic voice producing bitter words of frustration at the weather that was hindering him from returning home. 

The watch on his wrist showed the time, the two hands forming eight thirty three. 

Knowing that he had no choice but to sleep out here in the car as the storm showed no signs of ceasing, he groaned internally, slumping down in his seat. Unbuckling his seat belt, he attempted to make himself more comfortable, preparing for a night in the cramped space of his vehicle. 

Leaning back into his seat, he started playing a random mobile game he had downloaded a while back, fingers silently tapping at the screen, a grimace on his face each time he died. He continued playing, attempting to kill time, before a sign flashed on his phone, showing that he was low on battery. 

With a sigh, he put his phone down to conserve battery life. Seeing as it was somewhat stuffy in the car, he rolled the window down a slight crack, letting drips of rain, accompanied by fresh air in. 

It was then that he was hit by the smell of cigarettes. The musty stench of smoke invaded his nostrils, and he cringed as a certain memory wormed its way back into his brain. 

Yoongi, he thought, before shaking his head furiously to get rid of said thought. No, he told himself, stop, don’t think about Yoongi.

He leaned closer to the window, the tip of his nose touching the cold glass, rain dripping onto his pastel pink hair as he peered out to see who in the world would be smoking during a storm. 

His eyes made out a figure a few meters away, thin, arm wrapped around his leather clad body seemingly to keep himself warm, a cigarette resting between his lips, shielded from the storm by a tree he was standing next to, and his hand, covering it as to prevent the wind from snuffing it out. He squinted his eyes, looking more closely, trying to make out the facial features of the person that so closely reminded him of… him.

“Jimin. Get a grip.” he told himself out loud, trying to wipe the thought out of his mind. Please, he silently added. Turning his attention back to the stranger, he watched their movements, looking closely as he inhaled the smoke of his cigarette, the same matter being released out after a few seconds. 

“Fuck!“ he heard them swear, and their voice was so hauntingly familiar -  he had heard the same voice spit out curses and insults like a machine gun, fast and vicious. “Damn this stupid storm, the fuck is this dumbass weather?!” they hissed, obviously furious, before taking a long draw of their slowly disintegrating cigarette, huffing out the smoke along with a string of curses. This time, they noticed the curious gaze of a certain pink haired boy, and their eyes met, a shiver being sent down Jimin’s spine at the eye contact.

He didn’t know what possessed him to do so, but it was clearly something as he opened his car door with a creak, stepping out gingerly, taking small but careful steps towards the other.

Black. Black leather pants, most likely going to be ruined by the rain, the same applying to the black leather jacket he was wearing. He was shivering, and you could almost hear his teeth chatter as he shook in the rain, mint green hair soaked and sticking to his pale white skin, his eyes,

oh,

no.

No, not those eyes. A brown so dark that they were almost black, empty, dull and so cold that they could freeze an entire ocean, they belonged to the one and only Min Yoongi.

“Yoon-”

“Jimin.”

Dear god, what did I ever do to deserve this? he wondered, as he heard his own name leave Yoongi’s lips. Oh, his lips. Pale and pink and smooth like the rest of him, he was beautiful in every sense of the word.

“You’re smoking again.” he coughed out; it was the only thing he could think of to say.

“I never stopped,” was Yoongi’s reply. “You dyed your hair. Pink suits you.”

He shivered. He wasn’t very cold, he hadn’t been out in the rain for long and he had on a thick jacket, however he felt himself freeze at his past lover’s words.

“Thanks.” he muttered, his words barely audible over the wailing of the storm.

There was silence between them, the tension so thick that you could’ve cut it with a knife, before finally the older of the two spoke up, his burnt out cigarette slipping through his fingers and landing on the ground, before the sole of his shoe pressed down on it out of habit.

“Do you mind if I join you in the car? I would be home right now but the storm fucked me up and my phone’s dead.” he asked, his gaze remaining on the rose haired boy standing a meter or so away from him.

Yes, yes in fact I do mind, Jimin wanted to reply, but instead awkwardness took over his speech and he replied with a quiet: “Sure, I guess.”

The two went over to his car, and they stepped in, Yoongi immediately taking off his leather jacket which was drenched in water, tossing it aside. Jimin forced his eyes away from the toned muscles on Yoongi’s arms, smooth and perfect as Yoongi had held him - but it was all in the past, and he needed to stop thinking about it.

However, it was all too real, when Yoongi glanced at Jimin, mouth slightly open, trying to form the right words to say, his body language reeking of confidence however through his eyes you could see hurt and a desperate need for affection, despite him trying to hide it with his stone cold attitude. Unlike Jimin, Yoongi was a born liar, and Jimin knew that all too well.

Jimin, on the other hand was the opposite. Even after months of no contact, Yoongi could easily read him like a book, and he could still see the hurt and betrayal written on Jimin’s face, and the sight made his heart hurt, guilt being doused over his mind like kerosene and set ablaze, burning in agony.

He ignored the feeling, however. Yoongi was never one for feelings, he despised them with a passion. That had led to him shattering Jimin; frail, sweet little Jimin, innocent, caring, who had loved Yoongi with all his heart, yet had been let down, hurt - shattered and torn apart by the very same person.

The pieces never fell back together.

And Yoongi knew that, he knew that all too well when the minutes of silence that had passed was finally broken by a shaky whimper, proceeded by a single word, why.

“Why?” Jimin had asked, however he received no reply from the green haired male sitting next to him, in the passenger seat.

“Why what?” Yoongi asked back, although the truth was, he knew exactly what Jimin had meant, however he didn’t want to answer it, he couldn’t since he didn’t even know the answer himself.

Jimin didn’t know what to ask either, therefore he stayed mute.

Why did you cheat on me? he wanted to scream. Why did you fuck Taehyung? He was my best friend, you know? You knew that, Yoongi. You knew that. So why did you fuck him? And… And you had the nerve to blame it on me, as well! You accused me of sleeping with Tae even when I saw you two pressed against each other on my bed, and then you told me to fuck off when I told you what I had seen.

You said I was being overly dramatic. You called me miserable, desperate, horrible names that hurt me, and even when I was crying and begging for you to just stop, just s t o p, you continued and then you left. You left, you packed your bags and went out the door, and you never came back. I heard you blocked my number, I heard you started dating Namjoon within a week after our breakup. Yoongi, why him? Why Taehyung, why Namjoon? Why me? Why?

All those thoughts were jumbled and messy, similar to the tears that began flowing down his face, and he sniffed loudly, fingers searching the car for something to wipe away the tears.

He still looks like an angel, Yoongi thought, and he reached out, he took his thumb and wiped away the salty streaks that ran down Jimin’s face. Jimin, who’s eyes were red and puffy and bloodshot, who’s tears were streaming down his face rapidly, like a waterfall, Yoongi’s finger carefully wiping them aside, something he wished he had done in the past. He wasn’t one to regret, but not doing so was so fucking regrettable, he hated himself for not comforting Jimin when he cried, and even more so because he was the reason Jimin cried.

Yoongi was a shitty person, and everyone knew that. Everyone besides Jimin, although perhaps he had known but instead chose to ignore it out of love. The thought of that made Yoongi wince, thinking of the pain he had caused.

“I’m sorry.” Yoongi apologized, his hand cupping Jimin’s cheek. He brought Jimin closer to him, burying the younger’s head in his chest.

Jimin kept crying, his tears soaking through Yoongi’s shirt, his tshirt that smelled of rain, of cigarettes and of him, the smell not having changed even slightly, and it was then that he realized how much he missed Yoongi. Stop, he once more told himself, but it was weaker than the previous times. He was in such close proximity to Yoongi that he just simply couldn’t, he couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe, he just couldn’t.

“Baby,” Yoongi spoke, his voice rough, tired, filled with exhaustion, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. You know I am, you know that I regret it so badly, Jimin - babe, please.” He ran a hand through Jimin’s soft locks, the other around his back, holding him closely, just like he wished he did.

Removing himself from Yoongi’s embrace, he looked into his eyes, darker than black, full of regret and shame, while his own full of sorrow and want. Their faces and lips were just mere centimetres apart, but Yoongi should’ve still waited. He should’ve waited, waited for Jimin to make the first move if Jimin decided to.

But he was Yoongi, and Yoongi was selfish. He was cold, careless, and ignored whatever common sense he had left, instead connecting their lips.

Jimin had mirrored Yoongi’s lips almost instantly, he kissed back gently, their lips clashing, Jimin’s soft, plump ones moving against Yoongi’s, smooth, and hungry, before the kiss turned rough, Yoongi desperately trying to access Jimin’s mouth as he took Jimin’s bottom lip between his own.

Yoongi was a scarily good kisser, which was the reason Jimin hesitated, because he knew that once he started, he couldn’t stop. Yoongi was a drug, and he was an addict, the craving for Yoongi coming back with full force after so long of an absence.

“Yoongi,” he gasped out in between kisses, their lips touching and moulding against one another, “h-hyung.”

That nickname drove Yoongi off the edge, his grip in Jimin’s hair tightened, a few strands sure to have been pulled loose, his tongue dancing with Jimin’s as he deepened the kiss, other hand pulling at Jimin’s jacket, opening his eyes for a split second to find out how to take it off, which he did soon after, the clothing being tossed to the side. His nimble fingers worked at Jimin’s shirt, navy blue striped and long sleeved. Yoongi ran his hands up and down Jimin’s body, caressing every curve and muscle, stroking his abs, before he lightly traced his index finger around Jimin’s nipple, pinching at it gently - just the way he knew Jimin liked it.

“Ahh - Yoongi, please - please don’t tease me like that.” Jimin begged, and Yoongi loved the sound of it, desperate, needy, Jimin wanting none other than his green haired friend.

Friend, ex lover, lover, whichever one it was, it didn’t seem to matter as Jimin moaned into the kiss, his hips grinding against Yoongi’s erection, who let out a strangled groan at the sudden movement.

Jimin was always the more vocal one, and Yoongi had always loved hearing Jimin scream his name. He was intent on hearing it once more, at least just once, he thought as his fingers unbuttoned and zipped down Jimin’s jeans, his erection obvious through the thin fabric of his boxers. Yoongi’s hand lightly stroked him through the cloth, moans and gasps escaping Jimin’s lips, which were now swollen as Yoongi broke off the kiss, instead trailing down towards his neck, pressing his lips slowly down Jimin’s smooth collarbone, a trail of nerves set alight where ever he went. Slowly, he took Jimin’s dewy skin in between his lips, gently sucking and nipping at the flesh, before he went in rougher, marking Jimin as his, marks of crimson and violet blooming on Jimin’s pale skin.

He loved the love bites that he could leave, he loved marking Jimin as his - except for, was Jimin really his anymore? The answer was made clear when Jimin pressed his lips into the crook of Yoongi’s neck, reciprocating with his own, Yoongi letting out small groans as Jimin attacked his neck, however much more gentle than the elder’s movements.

“Yoongi, hyung, I-” Jimin’s voice faltered into a moan as Yoongi’s skilled hands stroked Jimin’s hard, pulsing erection, palming it as Jimin gasped hard, thrusting his all too desirable hips into Yoongi’s palm, the precum leaving a small stain on his boxers.

“Jimin. Jimin, fuck, you have no idea what you do to me.” Yoongi hissed, his fingers hooking into the waistband of Jimin’s boxers, pulling them down, watching as Jimin’s erection was set free, pressing into the firm skin of his stomach.

Yoongi leaned in, pale pink lips kissing down Jimin’s dick, his tongue pressing flat against his length, running along every vein, feeling Jimin’s breath hitch, which urged him to continue, his lips wrapping around the head, a sharp intake of breath being heard from Jimin.

Jimin moaned as Yoongi’s skilled tongue swirled around his tip, before gently running down the length, taking his dick back in his mouth, bobbing his head up and down, before he went deeper, taking all of Jimin’s dick until it hit the back of his throat. He had done this so many times before, but the sensation felt new each time, he could feel Jimin’s hands tangle into his mint hair, pulling at it as he continued moving his mouth.

“Yoongi, I c-can’t-” Jimin moaned out in between gasps. Yoongi’s eyes glanced up, looking into Jimin’s, which were beginning to water.

“Jimin, angel-” Yoongi began, however he was cut off by a quiet sob.

“Yoongi, stop, you-” he choked out, taking a moment to cough and sniff a bit. “you can’t just do this. You can’t just hurt me and waltz back into my life like nothing happened.” Jimin stammered, a bit more firmly this time.

“Jiminie, sweetheart, you know I’m sorry-”

“No. No, you’re not. You’re not sorry, you never are.” the younger of the two cried out, his voice trailing off into a broken cry of anguish.

“Baby, I am. I really am, please believe me. You know I never meant what I said, I didn’t mean a single word of it.” his voice began cracking, Yoongi’s tough facade breaking apart, but Jimin knew better. It has been months, and he knew better than to give in to Yoongi’s sweet talk. It’s what he had done best, what made Jimin give in to his every demand, believe him, trust him - love him.

“You cheated on me with Tae. He was my best friend - you knew that. Do you know how I felt? Do you understand how much it hurt, when I walked in on your lips against his, and your bodies tangled together? I pretended I didn’t see that and a week later I asked you, I asked you if you had any feelings for Tae - I mean what else was I supposed to do? Turn a blind eye to it even though that was the reason I was up at night, crying? Crying because you had fucked Tae the previous night on the bed we shared? You didn’t notice though. You didn’t even question the crying, since you never heard it. You weren’t even home, you’d be out late ‘practicing’, or was that screwing Tae as well?”

Jimin’s words turned harsh, and bitter at the end of his rant, all the bottled up feelings that he’s held in for so long bubbling to the surface in the form of a hateful, vicious anger.

Yoongi stayed silent, he had no idea what to say. He simply looked down into his lap, watching his hands nervously fiddle as he sat there in shame.

“I hadn’t talked to Tae since, but that Saturday when I asked you, you glared at me, and I remember these words clearly, you asked me, ‘What the fuck, Jimin? Just because you’re sucking his dick doesn’t mean I am.’ and that hurt. You knew I wasn’t. I would never cheat on you; I wouldn’t then, I wouldn’t now, and I still love you, that’s why it hurts so much. You wouldn’t ever understand though, would you? You couldn’t, you don’t ever truly love anyone - at least not me - and you couldn’t hurt.” Jimin finished, hot tears burning down his face, and this time Yoongi couldn’t wipe them away. He was shocked, motionless as he sat there, not knowing what to say.

He finally spoke up, voice defeated, quieter than usual: “I-I do love you. Jimin, you may not believe me, but I really do. I know what I did was horrible, and I said all those things because I was scared; I was a coward and Jimin, I’m sorry. Babe, please, I’m so sorry.”

“Yoongi, you had your chance, you had so many, and you know that. You could’ve apologized then, maybe even a week later, but don’t even get me started on Namjoon.” Jimin cried out, hurt fully taking over his soft features, and what was once a cheerful, happy boy, was now a betrayed, bitter soul, once warm eyes now filling with never-ending tears.

“Jimin, chimchim, please, I’m sorry, I’ll change, just please…” Yoongi had never felt so desperate before, but he could’ve been on his knees, begging. All pride and defiance in his character was gone, the only thing left was regret, and his love for Park Jimin, which was now tainted and destroyed by himself only.

“Yoongi… leave, please. I still love you, but you hurt me, and I simply can’t trust you anymore, so just leave, please.and so Yoongi did, not even bothering to grab his leather jacket, he simply opened the car door and walked out into the rain, letting the storm destroy him, the sky crying, its tears mixing with Yoongi’s salty tears that he shed as he walked away from Jimin, just like he did in the past, with his heart aching, an undeniable hatred for himself and his own mistakes pumping through his veins.

I’m sorry, Jimin. I’m so fucking sorry.

And this time he truly did mean it, but there was no one around to hear it anymore.

Originally posted by loveblushes

A Little Food For Thought

In The Rise of The Isle of the Lost, they describe the pirate clothing of the Isle as “a trend.” In Descendants 2, everyone on the Isle was dressed like pirate, which made Ben and the Rotten Four kinda stand out. Back when they were on the Isle, the trend was hella leather and studs and edginess.

Imagine what the Sea Three looked like during that time.

I mean, image seems to matter on the Isle, so I’d think the kids went with whatever trend there was. Even Harry didn’t always dress like a pirate. So, what do ya’ll think our favorite pirates looked like when they didn’t dress like pirates.

Here’s my thoughts:

  • Uma with cornrows
  • Instead of a red sash around his waist, Harry ties a red sash around his head
  • Gil wears his hair down and under a beanie (kinda like Jay)
  • Leather pants. ‘Nuff said
  • Uma’s clothes being studded with pearls to resemble tentacles
  • Harry still has his hook…and his guyliner
  • Gil’s outfit choice still has no sleeves
  • Not having swords mean they fight with their bare hands…and still kick ass
  • Harry didn’t wear a ton of rings, but the knuckles of his gloves had spikes
  • Badass boots
  • Badass glares
  • Just overall badassery at its finest
Colin O’Donoghue--OUAT Chicago 6/11/17

Colin O’Donoghue Q&A Panel

Note:  I had some issues with my recordings of this particular panel.  I had to record the panel in 4 separate parts, because my voice recorder couldn’t handle any more than 17 minutes at a time.  A couple of the parts went missing.  I was able to fill in most of the missing segments after hunting through YouTube for videos to supplement what I had, but there are, I think, a couple of minutes I’m still missing.

Announcer:  Welcome Captain Hook himself, Mr. Colin O’Donoghue!

Colin:  Awesome!  A bit of Led Zepplin.  You can’t beat it.  Hello everyone!

Fan (from audience):  Hello, gorgeous.

Colin:  (looks around behind him)  Who you talking to?

Fan (from audience): You!

Colin:  Oh, thank you.  It’s a lot…it’s a lot of people.  Hello.  I guess I’m gonna start with the questions.

Fan: Hi, sorry. (giggles and cries)

Colin:  This is a good start.

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