loud prints

Ed Sheeran drawn using marker pens, with torn brown paper and “Thinking out Loud” lyrics background.

Art Prints: https://www.etsy.com/listing/508560823/ed-sheeran-portrait-drawing-with

Original: https://www.etsy.com/listing/495077626/ed-sheeran-original-drawing-with

The Eldest

I’ve been reading Lord of the Rings with my kid, and we read about Tom Bombadil the last couple of nights.  Some things are easier to notice when you’re reading out loud; in print, some of what Tom says is formatted as songs, with italics and one line of poetry to a line of print, and some of it is formatted as dialog, with quotation marks and everything.  But when you’re reading aloud, there’s no difference between them.  Where everyone else in the book (so far, and as far as I know) is speaking prose, Tom speaks poetry.  Except for one bit:

“Eh, what?” said Tom sitting up, and his eyes glinting in the gloom. “Don’t you know my name yet? That’s the only answer. Tell me, who are you, alone, yourself and nameless? But you are young and I am old. Eldest, that’s what I am. Mark my words, my friends: Tom was here before the river and the trees; Tom remembers the first raindrop and the first acorn. He made paths before the Big People, and saw the little People arriving. He was here before the Kings and the graves and the Barrow-wights. When the Elves passed westward, Tom was here already, before the seas were bent. He knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless—before the Dark Lord came from Outside.”

Somewhere in the middle of this, the rhythm starts to falter; I started reading this passage in the same sing-song that I’d gotten used to reading Tom’s dialog in, but I stumbled when I got to Tom was here before the river and the trees, and by the time I read He knew the dark under the stars, there was no way I could make it fit.

Having some familiarity with Tolkien, I suspect that this is exactly what was supposed to happen.  In any case it’s an interesting and effective metaphor for Frodo’s own confusion in this scene and his inability to fit Tom into his understanding of the world.


Our critic Heller McAlpin says “Most of the 35 very short essays in Would Everybody Please Stop? are either hilarious, heartfelt, or both. 

Many, including “I’m Awake,” first appeared in The New Yorker. Some are over-the-top silly, others read like material for her performances as a monologist and may be even better live. Yet her wry voice — sometimes confiding, sometimes overbearing — comes through loud and clear in print.

Find her full review here.

– Petra

ok so people probably hc calebs style as basic athleisure teenage boy BUT i for one like to think he dresses like average trendy black twitter type ykwim? ya the loud 90s print button ups? joggers and nike brand neon windbreakers, roshes and bomber jackets and shit like that? he owns the signature black millennial green camo print pants. at one point he almost dyed a streak of his hair blonde but thankfully his mom talked him out of it

so my little sister has her prom today and i’m having prom feels so enjoy this excerpt from the next half of all the love I never gave’s high school section :)

Erin pushes open the door and enters, then stops dead. Jillian turns from where she’s studying herself in her floor length mirror.

“Too much?” she asks.

Erin just gapes at her. She’s wearing a suit, not a dress.

Erin doesn’t know why that surprises her so much. Jillian’s always been a tomboy, and Erin couldn’t actually picture her in a dress…but still, it’s prom.

And Jillian’s wearing a suit. A green suit. With a white button-up shirt. And a loud-printed tie. And her hair is down. It’s never down. Erin can’t stop staring. Her mouth is dry all of a sudden, like she’s dehydrated. Actually, she probably is.

Jillian’s face falls. “What’s wrong? Is it the tie that’s too much? I have another one…”

“The tie is fine,” Erin manages to whisper. Her voice sounds hoarse. She coughs, hoping to clear it.

Jillian sweeps her eyes up and down Erin’s own outfit. “You look really pretty, by the way,” she says, almost shyly.

TalesFromTheFrontDesk: Thank You for Bringing Your Concerns to Us at THE END OF YOUR STAY

There’s a fairly large event in the area, and all had been remarkably quiet overnight. So naturally, the early morning will bring all the bullshit. And it certainly didn’t disappoint.

An older female, wearing loud floral print pajamas and equally loud old lady perfume (gag levels) showed up at the coffee station. She didn’t reply to a fairly basic greeting. Whatever, I don’t care. I just don’t.

A little while later, she shows up at the FD with somehow even higher gag levels of old lady perfume. She looks like a cross between Anne Coulter and Kellyanne Conway. But somehow rode harder, and inexplicably put away more wet.

Her tact is instant vitriol. Everything was awful, despite not voicing a complaint during her multi-day stay. She also wants me to adjust the rate, based upon some bullshit printout.

She stated that we’ve over-charged her, and she needs an adjustment immediately. Yeah, get bent. I’ve only seen one over-charge during my time on property.

I examine her printout, and sure as shit, it’s a quote from another property. I point it out, and all of her indignant ways just fucking collapse. It was beautiful.

She walked away without another word.

I looked into her account… and without fail… there was a government email attached. Why do they tend to be awful guests? If they’re not running a scam, they’re just generally awful.

After that, I had to deal with some sort of crack/meth whore trying to do her level best to eat breakfast without passing out. Such fun, what guests drag in during events.

By: almostoy

I need more Marauders Era fan art where in they’re acTUALLY WEARING 70’S FASHION.












I have a mighty need.

When the King Likes You

Based off this request: i was wondering if you can do a fluff one? Where crowley is interested in the reader and she is in love with him but thinks he prefers…. thinner….women. but he proves her wrong. You can keep the sarcasm that is Crowley. Thanks:)



The boys had left you alone at the motel. They’d offered for you to go with them, but you were weary from travel and hunts. You’d much rather stay back and gorge yourself on vending machine snacks and reality TV.

The knock at the door startled you. You quickly grabbed your gun and held it at your side as you peered out the peephole.

What you saw there made your heart flutter and shudder at the same time.

You slowly opened the door, leaving the chain on. “Crowley. What do you want?”

“Hello, darling,” the King of Hell crooned at you. “I’ve got some information for Moose and Squirrel. May I come in?”

“They’re not here.” You silently cursed yourself. Should you really have told him that?

“Hm. Well, mind if I come in and wait for them? It’s a long journey from Hell and I’d rather not make it twice in one day.”

You looked him up and down. He seemed unarmed, but really, what sort of physical weapon did the King of Hell need? But he’d never harmed you in any way….

You felt the weight of the gun in your hand. You knew you were more than capable of protecting yourself. Sam and Dean had made sure to leave behind plenty of weapons.

“Fine,” you said, shutting the door and removing the chain. When you opened it back up, Crowley smiled at you.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, walking in past you. The nickname made your heart flutter again, but you tried not to think too much of it. Surely he called all women that. It didn’t make you special.

You tried to play it cool as you stalked past him and flopped on the bed. The crinkle of cellophane made you wince and you were suddenly aware of just how many snack wrappers littered the room. Sure, some of them were from Dean, but the ones on the bed were all from you.

You felt, more than noticed, Crowley looking at you. You quickly swept all the wrappers on to the floor, as if that reversed your having eaten what had been in them. “Sorry,” you mumbled, unsure what exactly you were apologizing for.

You turned your attention back to the television and tried not to jump out of your skin when Crowley sat next to you. The King of Hell commandeered whatever space he wanted and somehow managed to look regal even while sitting on the obnoxiously loud floral printed quilt.

“What are you watching?”

“Trashy TV,” you said, unsure what exactly you’d stumbled upon. Hopefully it wasn’t anything too embarrassing.

“Ah,” Crowley said after a moment. “I recognize her. I believe one of my crossroad demons made a deal with her—got her this show. Shame she’ll be losing her soul in…” You saw him check his watch. “Two and a half years.”

You looked back at the screen. The woman he was talking about was someone you were envious of—perfect hair, perfect teeth, perky breasts, taught stomach, tiny waist and hips—tiny everything except breasts, really. You self-consciously pulled your knees up towards you and wrapped your arms around them.

You and the King of Hell watched the television for a bit, in silence. Once or twice you thought you saw him glance over at you. During the commercial, he finally spoke again.

“You know, there’s something that I’ve always wondered about you, darling. Which of these boys do you plan on taking as your Prince Charming?”

You scoffed. “Neither. And I find it insulting that you assume I’m going to fall in love with one of them, just because I hunt with them. I’m stronger than that, thank you.”

“Oh, I know you’re strong, love. I just thought surely with their charming smiles and alluring personalities…”

“I’m not looking for Prince Charming.”

“Oh,” Crowley said, a strange expression on his face. “Are you…”

“No,” you said with the slightest roll of your eyes. “I’m not looking for Prince Charming, because I don’t need to be whisked off my feet and saved. And besides, why be a princess when you could be a queen?”

Your heart leapt to your throat, realizing what you’d said. ‘No, no, no,’ you thought to yourself. ‘Please don’t let him–’

Crowley let out a laugh at that. “Very good,” he said, a smile on his face. There was a strange look in his eye, which made you turn away from him. “You know, I do believe I’ve got an opening for you…”

“Please,” you said. “You don’t want me. You’d probably much rather have someone like her,” you pointed at the screen, where the woman from before was back. “She’s more fit to be a queen.”

Crowley noticed the emphasis you put on the word ‘fit’. “Love, I’d much rather have a pretty little thing like you beside me than that pile of silicone and diet pills.”

You weren’t sure which word shocked you more, ‘pretty’ or ‘little’. You dared take another look at Crowley and all you saw in his eyes was sincerity. You remained frozen in place as the King of Hell gently slid his hand into one of yours.

“Besides,” he said in a low voice. “‘Y/N, Queen of Hell’ does have a nice ring to it.”

You looked down at your clasped hands, trying to hide the smile creeping onto your face.

“You don’t have to give me an answer immediately,” Crowley said, drawing your attention to his face. “But I do hope you’ll give me the chance to show you how wonderful it would be.”

You bit your lip. “I’d like that,” you said in a voice barely louder than a whisper.

True fact: my mom is a pretty decent seamstress, and she made a lot of her own clothes in the 60s and 70s, but my hands-down favorite of her creations HAS to be the reversible loud acid print purple bell bottoms that are flaming red on the other side, because she made a MATCHING CROPPED VEST to go with and what I’m saying is when I wore them red side out I looked EXACTLY like an organ grinder’s monkey.

My mom is very weird and emotionally unhealthy, but I will never say she’s not INTERESTING.

I saw a picture of me and several of my family members today and it’s honestly so weird how little I look like any of them both physically and like, vibe-wise I guess. They are all thin, very tan, ~natural and so casual and sporty and I’m fat as hell, have the skintone of a ghost and am in the picture wearing a full face of make up that includes contouring and red lipstick and dressed in some kind of loud printed thing with my tattooed fat white legs out. No one would think I’m even related to them. Also I’m the only gay!

How do two extremely skinny tan people birth 1 fat pale weird child and 1 skinny tan normal one???


Video Style: Dawn Richard “Wake Up” Fashion Film

If you’re following me on social media, then you know how much I love Dawn Richard. Even though she is an indie artist, her innovation and style is proving more and more that she can become an rising pop icon for this generation.

Her latest work has been her music video for “Wake Up’ which also serves as a fashion film. Once again Dawn Richard proved she can hang with the big dogs in the industry with killer visuals and even more killer style. The fashion was just gorgeous, giving bold prints, loud colors and accessories galore. This is definitely the music video of the year. Can’t wait to see what Dawn Richard has next in store.

Watch Dawn Richard “Wake Up” Fashion Film here.

anonymous asked:

Could you please, please, pretty please with RDJ on top, do an RDJ advises for Jensen Ackles in his "Jenny Thunder" phase? (Tumblr tag: jenny thunder) I just am incredibly certain that RDJ would have some very important advice for anyone who once wore brick pants.

Me: *checks tag*
Me: There’s nothing in the Jenny Thunder tag!
Me: *realizes he is in his own tags, not tumblr’s*
Me: *goes to Jenny Thunder tumblr tag*
Me: *was not prepared for this*

“Jared. I can call you Jared, right?”

“I’m, uh, I’m actually Jensen, I’m the other one – “

“Jared, I’m so pleased you’ve discovered the power of the Loud Print Shirt.”

“Actually they just dressed me in that – “ 

“See, I think the problem with this one is that it’s just not loud enough. I think all the little dots and squiggles and stuff are too small. They must be bolder.”

“…you think?”

“I really do, kiddo. You’re rocking the shorts, though.” 

“I…I need to think about this. Thank you, Mr. Downey.”

“Anytime, Jared.” 

[RDJ Advises Chris Evans Jared Padalecki Jensen Ackles on his Life Fashion Choices]

Title: More than one Christmas present
Criminal Minds
Character(s): Derek Morgan x Reader, David Rossi (Godfather), Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia, Aaron Hotchner, Jennifer Jareau, Emily Prentiss, Kevin Lynch, William LaMontagne Jr, Herny LaMontagne
Requested by:
A/N: I am really sorry this took so long to write and I hope you enjoy the fic :) ~ Dixon

Just as you finished applying your mascara a buzzing began erupting from your phone. It signalled a text from your Godfather, David Rossi. The message read; ‘I’ll see you at the restaurant. Your chauffeur is on his way, so be ready for 6′ 

You were staying in his spare room while visiting him over the Christmas holidays, currently preparing for a meal with him and his friends from the BAU. A room had been booked at a local restaurant for yourself and all the team to enjoy Christmas dinner together but, aside from a taxi, you had no transport to get you there.

At Rossi’s request you had gotten a flight over, rather than risking the drive down in the unpredictable winter weather and he had insisted on paying for your tickets. You had tried to argue against that but when he insisted it was one of your presents, you accepted defeat, knowing there was no way you could deter him.

That had, however, meant you were left without a vehicle. Rossi had said that he would be collecting you, which left you wondering why those plans had changed. You scanned your eyes over the message again, but didn’t worry as it was obvious that there was no need for concern. When you honed in on the fact it was a male collecting you, you reasoned that it would most likely be Spencer Reid, a member of the team that you had become good friends with. You also reasoned that the change of plans must be down to him insisting on driving you so that the two of you could catch up on the way with no interruptions.

Glancing at the clock you saw that there were only ten minutes left until he would be arriving, so you began checking over your hair, make-up and attire. You had opted for simple make-up and styled your H/C hair into soft curls. Once satisfied that your lightly shimmering eye shadow was even, and your foundation was blended properly you turned your attention to your clothes.

You were wearing your new black dress that had a flowery pattern, cross over front and thin belt at the waist which you straightened before smoothing the fabric that flowed below it. Given the chilly weather you had paired the mid thigh length dress with black tights and ankle boots. The boots had a small, thick heel which raised you to a couple of inches above your usual height. Once you were happy with your appearance you collected your bag and phone, before heading downstairs to put on your coat, scarf and gloves.

The doorbell sounded just as you finished organising the contents of you bag, which you slung over your arm as you went to answer the door. When you got there however, you did not see the man you had been expecting. In the place you thought Spencer would be stood Derek Morgan. You blinked in surprise, your confusion obviously clear on your face, prompting Derek to speak first.

“You look a little surprised to see me Y/N. Did Rossi not tell you I was coming?”

Flustering slightly you tried to find the words to answer the question. Your feelings for Derek Morgan meant he could leave you in a spin at the best of times, but his unexpected appearance had thrown you completely off kilter.

“He told me, it’s just that I was expecting Spencer.”

Something flicked across his chiselled features at that comment and the tone of his reply was less cheerful than his initial words.

“You sound disappointed, Y/N.”

“You are anything but disappointing.”

You didn’t fully realise you had spoken those words aloud until you heard him chuckle. Your eyes widened and you looked to the floor, mentally chastising yourself. Ever since Rossi first introduced you to the team Derek Morgan had been present in your mind, in fact, he seemed quite at home there. You would love to act on the flirtatious comments and gestures he directed at you, but something always stopped you. Whether it was the knowledge that he could be a flirt and didn’t want to read too much into his actions, or the dull voice of doubt that was always echoed through your mind whenever you were in his company.

Which ever one it was you had no clue so, as usual, the subject was changed as you locked up and walked with Derek to the car. The journey was mostly filled with his questions about how you had kept since your last visit. You began relaxing again as he managed to make you laugh. Before long he was pulling into a parking space at the back of the restaurant. Derek exited the car and walked around to meet you when you opened the door. To your dismay you could make out patches of ice and frozen snow dotted across the car park and muttered an expletive under your breath. After following your gaze your now chuckling companion held out his arm, realising you were worried about falling head over heels.

Tentatively you wrapped your hands around Derek’s arm, shivers running down your spine when he pulled you close to his side. Eventually the two of you made it inside and were led into the room where the others were already gathered by a waitress that took your coat and scarf. The first to greet you was Garcia, who almost ran over from where she had been standing discussing something with Hotch. As soon as she reached your her arms were immediately pulling you into a hug, which you returned happily.

“Y/N, you look fantastic! Lady, I’ve missed you so much!”

“I’ve missed you too, Penelope.”

Over her shoulder you could see everyone else had already arrived and were all wearing various forms of Christmas attire. Spencer had a bow tie showing a snowy scene with glitter for ice, Kevin was sporting a loud shirt printed all over with Santa in red swimming trunks lounging on a tropical beach and J.J had little flashing angel earrings and waved from where she sat with Will and Henry who had matching Santa Claus and elf tops on. Prentiss was adjusting her elf ears / hat headband while talking to Hotch and Rossi who had each been draped with a festive scarf.

You smiled, knowing that this was no doubt down to Garcia who was wearing not only a festive jumper, but also bell laden antlers. Once she released you she waved Kevin over, who collected a bag on his way. Garcia thanked him and began rummaging through the contents while you recieved a hug from Kevin and watched as everyone began making their way over to greet you.

Once everyone had said hello and many more hugs had been shared, Garcia held a Santa hat towards you which you took and pulled onto your head. She winked at you before turning to Derek who had remained by your side since entering the restaurant. Out of the bag she pulled a hat that matched the one you were now wearing and dropped it in his hands.

“Baby Girl, I am not wearing this.”

“No hat means no food, Sweet Cheeks. And besides, Y/N is wearing hers.”

At that last comment he turned his gaze onto you and a small smile emerged across his lips. After shooting a questioning glance inside the hat, then to Garcia, he pulled the red and white fabric onto his head and walked over to his seat, playfully bumping into Garcia as he went. You turned to the blonde who smiled broadly.

“Seriously? ‘Y/N is wearing hers’?”

“You’ll thank me eventually, when you two are Mr and Mrs Clause for real.”

Rolling your eyes the two of you headed over to the table where Garcia sat next to Kevin and you sat between Spencer and Rossi. It wasn’t long before Spencer was spouting facts about Christmas and even cases throughout time that had some form of festive link. When the starters had been eaten and plates had been taken away conversations picked up again and your Godfather leaned over to ask you the same question you heard from Spencer a few minutes previously.

“Have you heard anything about the job?”

“Not yet, but they said I could be getting a phone call today.”

He was referring to a job opportunity that would mean moving to Quantico and completing Profiling and Victimology training that would mean you were able to join the team. Only Rossi, Spencer, Hotch and J.J were aware of the potential transfer and you were hoping that by the end of the night you would be sharing good news with everyone else.

After dessert had been served you walked out with Rossi to his car which was filled with gift bags of Christmas presents. They were all from you to the team and he had suggested hiding them in his boot to ensure you didn’t accidentally leave them at home and so they could remain a surprise until after the meal. You both chatted back and forth as you hooped the bright string handles over your fingers, mentally making a note of which bags were for who.

An excited gasp from Garcia when she saw the sparkling bags hanging from yours and Rossi’s hands alerted everyone to your return. Derek immediately came to where you were trying to free your fingers from the handles. Without a word he reached out and took your hand in his, gently freeing you while his soft touch sent shivers through you that you hoped weren’t noticeable. Or at least if they were, you would be able to pass them off as chills from being outside.

Eventually everyone’s presents were handed around. There was much pouting from the blonde techie when you informed her that she must wait until Christmas day to open the beautifully wrapped present in her hands. Soon everyone was trying to guess what their gift was while you sat smiling, knowing that while they would all love their gifts, nobody would be able to guess what they were. You laughed as questions were thrown your way in a sort of mock interrogation.

“Is it a book? It feels like a book. Too heavy to be the new edition of Diagnostic testing in Advanced Chemistry. Maybe the new volume on Contemporary Sociological Theories?”

“This feels suspiciously like a new teddy bear. Is it for Will or Henry?”

“Something is rattling in here. Please tell me this present has rattling parts and I haven’t broken it.”

Eventually everyone returned to normal conversations once they realised you weren’t going to give any answer beyond ‘Maybe, maybe not.’ As you chatted with Reid and looked around the room at all your friends you felt a surge of happiness and contentment at everyone being together enjoying themselves.


“Yes, thank you very much for letting me know and giving me this opportunity. Have a Merry Christmas, Sir.”  

You ended the call and had to stop yourself from doing a victory dance. A few minutes previously you had excused yourself from when your phone began ringing. After a relatively short conversation you had been told what you wanted to hear. You took a deep breath and watched as it rose as a white cloud into the night sky. Even since a young age your Godfather’s profession had fascinated you and now, after years working as a Police Officer and studying and training you had finally been given the chance to begin a career you had always worked towards.

“You ok out here?”

“I am. I just got some news I’ve been waiting to hear for a while now.”

You replied as Derek appeared at your side, his hat removed and now held at his side. The cool night air helped keep the flush from your cheeks when his arm grazed past your own. You turned to head back inside, starting to tell him that you would explain it to everyone once you returned but Derek stopped you.

“Before you go inside again, there’s something I want to do. Something I should have done a while ago.”

You watched questioningly as he reached into the Santa hat, then pulled out a sprig of mistletoe. Raising his arm so that it was above the space between you, Derek’s eyes connected with yours.

“Reid could probably give you the entire history behind it’s tradition, but I just know what you’re supposed to do when you find yourself beneath it.”

He leaned down, pausing to gauge your reaction, then connected your lips when your smile told him to continue. Eventually both the hat and Mistletoe were disguarded and strong hands grasped your waist. You felt him hum against your lips as your fingers traced along his neck. When the two of you separated, Derek was the first to speak.

You listened to him explain that after only a few months of knowing you, he had started to realise he was staring to fall for you. Derek hadn’t acted on his growing emotions because the thought of such a long distance relationship had scared him and staying friends would be better than risking losing you if things didn’t work out. Derek finished by telling you that, with some help from Garcia, he realised that he would never forgive himself if you slipped away. When he finally stopped talking he returned the wide smile that had grown on your lips.

“You don’t need to worry about a long distance relationship, Mr Morgan. That phone call was to say that my job application to become a profiler has been accepted. I’ll be moving down here in a few months.”

Derek laughed and pulled you into his arms as he congratulated you. After another unbelievably wonderful kiss with the man you had cared for for ao long, the two of you headed back inside. Once the cheers at the sight of the two of you holding hands had subsided you began explaining to everyone about the phone call.

Pretty soon another cheer erupted through the air and champagne was being ordered to toast to your knew job. As you looked around the room and recieved congratulatory hugs you couldn’t help but feel like you were being welcomed into a new family and that the best Christmas gifts aren’t always the ones under the tree.

Tips for your outfit.

  • Matching all the metal accents (gold with gold).
  • Play up your best feature. Mine are things that fit snugly to my waist, which is 23 inches.
  • Buy in different shades of the color that look best on you, which is blue/green for me. 
  • Emphasize your bust OR your legs, never both or you’ll look trashy.
  • Don’t choose something with a loud or busy print or you’ll look childish.
  • General rule of thumb is if your skirt is above your knees, you don’t need heels. Below the knee = heels.
  • Try to match all your leather. (white shoes, white bag)
  • Stick to good quality even if it is more expensive.
  • ALL THE JEWELLERY HAS TO BE THE SAME METAL, DO NOT MIX. (gold = gold. gold /=/ silver)
  • Try to go for silk as much as possible.
  • A lot of guys are tactile, meaning they like to touch. Choose soft clothes.
  • Wear what you’re comfortable with. Everybody can tell when you’re not.
  • Keep your stuff clean. 
  • Jeans = heels.