messy plait


get these filters away from me

i was tagged by my angel @flower-jk and my garden fairy @jungkookswngs !! ily both <3<3

time to tag some lovelies: @seyoons @dn-a @1bunkook @liegf @milkjk @lgbwit @kisskook @jungkookio @wicdrop @devilsgf @iluvexid @zhujieqiong @honeychai @chansboy @jinnies @chimsbf n anyone else who wants to!! (if u wanna! no pressure!!)

hmm okay bye i love y'all n hope u have a great day/night<3


Like Braids / Plaits? Like Beachy / Tousled Hair? 
Then here is the tutorial for you! 

Here I show you how to create a Beachy French Plait / Braid for festivals, days out, or if your hair is just in need of a wash and you simply don’t have time for that mammoth task!

I also have tutorials for creative makeup such as Scary Clowns, SFX, How-To Highlight & Contour like Kim K, Everyday MakeUp, and behind the scenes on photo-shoots! So, if you haven’t do so already, please do subscribe!


Counting on Love

A/N: So, I’ve made it and can’t believe it. Only took me about 4 years. ggg

This is for the February challenge “Love is …” at @loveinpanem and will most probably be a Two-Parter. The second part still needs to be finished, so no idea when that one will be published. Hopefully not in another 4 years. ;)

There would be no submission if there hadn’t been a couple of ladies and their support and help. So, thank you @thegirlfromoverthepond for your constant cheerleading and handholding. You brought me back to wirting, I never realized how much I missed it. Thank you @greetingsfromthenorthernsea for our brainstorming and all your very helpful comments. And last but not least @honeylime08 for the incredible betaing. I loved all those little comments you gave at certain parts. Without you this story would be in terrible shape. ggg

THANK YOU, ladies!

Enough now, let’s start with the story. Hope you enjoy! :)

You can also read it here: FFn


Part 1

Numbers were her thing.

Ever since her first lesson in mathematics back when she started school at the tender age of 6, Katniss loved to solve equations. She added, substracted, multiplied and divided. She draw graphs, she solved page long math riddles.

She loved numbers.

And even though there were people out there who thought it boring and stupefying, Katniss also loved being an accountant.

Oh, and she was good at it. It was fulfilling for her to know every aspect of her clients company, to know its monthly debits and credits to the T, to have the books clean and correct and always up to date.

No matter how chaotic or unorganised a new client was whenever they sought out her company’s help, Katniss made sure the books were up and running within a short matter of time.

Tax authorities loved to work with her, always breathed a sigh of relief when they read her name as responsible for the account of the company they were reviewing.

So it took her by surprise when on Tuesday afternoon (she remembered it being a Tuesday because she had a burrito for lunch, and Tuesday was burrito-day in the cafeteria) her supervisor knocked on her office door and introduced her to her newest client.

And in stepped the most handsome man Katniss ever had laid eyes on.

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anonymous asked:

Can you imagine Amelie visiting her newborn baby brother in hospital when he is born x

Stood between Harry and a couple of nurses aiding medical equipment needed on a different floor, rocking back and forth on her heels in the large space of the  lift, a smile big and bright on her lips, pearly white teeth showing, as she anxiously waited for the doors to open on the maternity ward. Her hair thrown up into a rather messy plait, but it was the best that Harry could do with tired eyes and running on limited sleep, dressed in a thick jumper and jeans that she’d picked out herself - and, to anyone close to the family, it would be a moment where they’d definitely see a resemblance, fashion-wise, between the 26-year old man and the 10-year old girl. 

Holding his hand tightly as the scuff through the empty corridors of the hospital, holding a cup of hot chocolate in her free hand whilst Harry held a cup-holder with two warm beverages supported inside - a peppermint tea for his wife and a cup of coffee, with more than enough espresso shots, for himself to drink. 

“Hav’ta be quiet when we go in, okay? Mummy’s probably asleep,” Harry explains softly, looking down at his little girl as she nods softly and blew her fringe from her eyes, “maybe we’ll get mummy to plait your hair a bit nicer than daddy could do, yeah?”

“I like it when you do it,” she looks up at him, her green eyes full of light and bringing love through his chest, “but yeh not very good at plaits like mummy is.”

“Mummy is the queen of plaiting hair, isn’t she?”

Amelie nods softly, looking ahead at the double doors shut before them and being one more barricade before she could see and hug her mummy and before she could meet her brand-new little baby brother. Watching as Harry nudged it open with his shoulder. Sounds of baby cries and the soft chatter come from inside, the doors flapping shut behind her before coming to an abrupt stop, following Harry down the hall.

“Hello, Mister Styles. I’m just about to pop int the nursery to grab your baby boy,” a midwife, dressed in blue, grins, reaching a curled finger across to Amelie and stroking her cheek, “hello, gorgeous. Don’t you look like your daddy, hm?”

She blushes and shyly giggles, hiding behind her daddy’s legs as the midwife smiles warmly.

“Feel free to go in. I’ve just come from giving her a once over. Everything is looking perfect with both mummy and baby and both should be well enough to leave with you this afternoon,” she smiles, squeezing Harry’s forearm softly, “go have a nice cuddle with her. She’s been looking forward to seeing the both of you. I don’t think she liked being on her own through the night.”

Harry’s heart dropped slightly as she sidled passed him and let them continue on their journey, going down towards the nursery and disappearing around the corner, with the scuff of her black shoes being heard. 

He lets his daughter knock on the door to the room, hearing a quaint and quiet “come in” come muffled to their ears, using his foot to push open the door and allowing their presence to be seen by her. Sitting upright in bed, a cup of water in her hand as she set the book on her lap and grinned in their direction. The both of them stepping gently into the room, as the door closed behind them with a click at the frame. Amelie making a bee-line to hugging her mother as Harry went to set the coffee cups down on her bedside table.

“Hey, sweet girl,” she grins, as Amelie perched herself on the bed and snuggled beneath her arm, “did you have fun with Auntie Gem yesterday? I missed you.”

“Missed yeh too, mummy.”

“Are you excited to meet your little brother?”

She nods excitedly and grins. Picking at the loose string hanging from the cover covering her mother’s lower half and twirling it around her finger. And it isn’t long before the midwife is pushing a clear bassinet through the door, a snuffling baby, wrapped in blue, laid inside. A name-tag, hung on the front forthe midwives to look over, reading;

Born: 4:03am. Weighed: 7lbs 2oz.

“Here’s our brand new baby Styles. He’s perfectly fine. A little disgruntled but he probably just needs a cuddle from his big sister. He’s also due for a feed in a while,” the midwife smiles, parking the bassinet beside the bed, on Harry’s side, as he stepped closer and gave his son a smile, “I’ll be back in here in a moment. We’ll see if he’ll latch on again.”

“Hasn’t he…”

“We fed him a formula bottle this morning,” YN looks over to her husband and smiles softly, “he did latch on but he didn’t stay eating for long and wouldn’t latch again. He did fall asleep as soon as he was fed though and burped. Not like you, you cheeky thing,” she nudges Amelie’s arm as she giggles softly, “you used to cry and cry and cry until you tired yourself out. There were many times I’d see you and daddy together on the sofa, passed out and snoozing.”

“Who’s having a hold?” The midwife hums, lifting the baby from the bassinet as she looks up at Harry, who was looking towards his wife.

“Amelie,” he smiles, as she walks around the bed and stands beside the eldest child, “we’ve both had some holds this morning so I think it’s time they both met.” xx

anonymous asked:

. “I’d die for you. Of course, I’d haunt you in the afterlife but really, it’s the thought that counts.” Fremione!

Hermione wasn’t sure why she was participating in such an asinine game, but she suspected the second glass of wine in her hand had something to do with her poor decisions.

Raucous laughter exploded around her as the wine bottle she and Ginny had just finished off came to a stop on the floor in the middle of a circle of onlookers, the open end of the bottle pointing to George, who gestured to himself as if questioning the bottle’s choice.

Neville’s face had already been red as a tomato from all the alcohol he’d consumed, but at the prospect of kissing George or demanding a truth from him, his face and neck flushed further. He looked about ready to explode, hence the howling from the other drunken participants.

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Hello, it’s me and my partner in crime, kuro bananya. 

Lately I’ve been wearing my hair up as much as possible because it feels uncomfortable to have it touching my neck (it’s too hot!). I keep catching myself in reflections with a misshapen bun half falling off my head. It’s funny looking but it reminds me that my favourite things about the way people look and dress are often comfy things. Slacks and straight/wide jeans, borrowed jumpers, big t-shirts, messy buns and plaits. 

I love to see people looking comfortable so much!




Nancy followed Tommy through the small crowd of people, ignoring the stares that she was getting as she stumbled into the party goers. Tommy’s hand was wrapped tight around her wrist, not in a malicious way but more to make sure that she didn’t wander off into the crowd and leave him. Tommy wanted to talk to Nancy, discuss what had happened in the years they had been apart but he had to do it somewhere more isolated and when she wasn’t bladdered. Although Tommy was becoming impatient, he had to wait for the right moment to confess all to Nancy. He had been waiting over ten years to speak the truth and finally tell Nancy everything so he believed he could wait a few more hours until sunlight

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Push & Pull (Part I of II)

Pairing: You x Kai

Summary: When he thinks you like someone else

Warning: slight!angst, jerk!Jongin

A/N: I haven’t posted anything in a million years a while, sorry >__<

Our relationship was a strange one.

We weren’t really friends, although we saw each other more than I’d like to admit each week. It began at the start of the year, where my economics teacher had asked me to tutor a certain student less he flunk his exams and be forced to drop the subject completely and, for the sake of boosting my own credit, I accepted the challenge.

The challenge’s name was Kim Jongin. I only found out on the day of our first tutoring session that it was him - no wonder my teacher had oh-so-conveniently left out the name of the student I would be tutoring. He probably knew I would flat out decline.

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30. tourist/knowledgeable local au

(uuhhh, I don’t know, this is silly, haha. thanks so much anon. only two more requests after this one! so close!)

It’s still cool down on the street, but the sun is starting to ascend bright across his table. The breakfast crowds are starting to thicken, shuffling down the path; their lilting, bubbling voices so familiar now that Robert can just let it wash over him. He sips at his tea and pores over his paper and tries to distract himself from the tonnage of work he has coming up later today.

He thinks it deserves another pastry.

“Bonjour,” someone says in a clunky accent, casting shadows over Robert. He looks up to see a young man, all fluffy hair and crumpled clothes – and it hits him like a wave of nostalgia, just how British he looks.

“Bonjour,” Robert replies, out of habit, then suddenly feels stupid. He yanks off his sunglasses to backtrack. “Uh, sorry, I mean. I speak English.”

“Oh, thank God, mate,” the guy says, huffing relief, slumping into the chair across from Robert. He has a thick beard, and pink cheeks, and he’s handsome, Robert will concede. He also looks warm and worn in, like maybe he’s been traveling for a while. “I was gonna pull out my phrase book, and that wouldn’t be pretty.”

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Lily walked through the canteen, her hair tied in messy plaits and she was wearing a plain, black baggy jumper and her flowered lounge pants. Normally she would still be asleep at this time, for those who knew Lily and knew her well would be fully aware that she did not rise early and waking her was like waking up a sleeping lion; something to be avoided at all costs. She joined the queue for breakfast, wondering how on early so many people seemed to be so ‘happy and cheerful’ at such an awful time. She could sense someone behind her, they too had the ‘I’ve only just wake up look’. 

“Seriously, if people are going to scream, shot and argues at eight AM can they please go and take it else where. Not directly outside my dorm window”. 


Vid by THE DIGI FAIRY for Fudge Urban

#FUDGEHAIRSCHOOL with Lou Teasdale 

Music by FAKE CLUB 

A Whole Other League

Originally posted by because-its-amazing

Rose and Shireen and confessions and chips; a li’l ace!fem!Ten/ace!Rose for DW Femslash Week! Mostly all ages (maybe light teen for language/discussion topics). Tooth-rotting fluff. Sorry for your dental bills.

Inspired by a prompt from @mariechambers​ (thank you dahling!!!! <3), and written for my fellow tumblrer who said they wished they’d seen more of girl-talk Rose during the series (I’m so sorry I can’t remember who posted that!); also fills the @timepetalsprompts​ femslash prompt! THIS FIC DOES ALL THE THINGS




“So what’s it like, then?” Shireen asks. “If there’s no sex?”

Laughing (and blushing only the tiniest bit), Rose glances all around the chippie like something in there will jump to her aid. “Not everything’s about sex, mate,” she says in lieu of a proper response, but Shireen imagines it’s the best that she can come up with on such short notice.

Still. Shireen quirks an eyebrow at her in disbelief.

Rose ducks her head, apparently fascinated by the basket of ships in front of her, by the vinegar pooling at the bottom of the wax-paper. “It isn’t like that, anyway. With her and me. She’s made it pretty clear that she isn’t into that sort of thing. Honestly, though, it’s sort of…nice,” she admits (to the chips, not to Shireen). “I dunno. It takes the pressure off.”

“Think I’d rather put the pressure on,” Shireen says, clicking her tongue suggestively.

“I know you would,” Rose teases. “But…”

She worries her lip between her teeth. “I sort of…wouldn’t,” she confesses.

“What do you mean?”

Sighing, Rose directs her attention back to the chips, eying them warily like they might start judging her at any moment. “I don’t know. It’s like…I guess it feels good? I didn’t hate it. And Mickey was loads better than Jimmy—”

“Prince Charles’ withered left testicle would be a better shag than Jimmy. And if you’re wondering if I’m saying I’d rather shag Prince Charles, the answer is honestly, maybe.”

“—but do you ever get the feeling that you’re only doing that stuff cos other people want you to?”

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