moustache sayings

4

Kenneth Branagh explains Poirot’s moustache in Murder on the Orient Express

Bonus:
“I spent months getting that moustache right, that massive piece of face furniture.”
Q: “Was it real?”
“I can’t tell you or I’d have to kill you. *smiles* It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real, I did try growing one but Agatha Christie says that Poirot has the most magnificent moustaches in England. So, we created this kind of double-layer twirly moustaches which in itself took so much taking care of, that we got really well ahead of the game with that one, same with the accent.”

a happy lil sonny for @smoltinypumpkinchild

lil sonny loves summer because the lack of sleeves means its the perfect time for all the gun shows

BONUS: usnavi breaking the news

Pretty. Odd.- Tyler Bate

This is my first try at actually putting one of these up. God, I hope it’s alright.
Tyler Bate x reader

@wwesmutdonedirtcheap (I said I’d tag you in it, hope you like it)

Originally posted by kennyomega

Things are shaping up to be pretty odd. Little deaths in musical beds. So it seems I’m someone I’ve never met.

Y/N remembered the exact moment she decided she wanted to be a pro wrestler. She had been in the audience of an NXT taping in 2013 and one match in particular caught her attention. It had been a bout between Paige and Summer Rae. The fiery passion was evident between the raven haired Brit and the tall blonde, putting their all into every move they made. Paige came out with the victory but both had been excellent performers. Y/N was inspired, so much so that she began training a few months later.

It was around this time that she began to pay more attention to indie wrestling, PROGRESS quickly becoming a favourite of hers. She always wanted to go to one of their shows but could never save up enough money from her dead end job at the supermarket to get a ticket. When she finally managed, it was for the event titled “Chapter 44: Old Man Yells At Cloud” (why must they insist on the hilariously weird names?) The highlight of the evening was finally, FINALLY, being able to see British Strong Style in action. She had narrowly missed out on going to the UK Championship Tournament in Blackpool, a slight annoyance to her due to the fact that half of the people who trained with her has gone to witness history in the making, so having Pete, Trent and Tyler in front of her was almost too much to handle. Translation: Y/N was a mess by the end of the night. Despite their defeat, she was still elated by the three men who she so adored.

Now, Y/N wasn’t a huge name in the UK wrestling scene but she still had her name out there so people did hire her from time to time. However, when the call came about a little event entitled “Chapter 46: I Like To Chill Out Here And Shoot Some Dinosaurs”, she was a little shocked. The request was nothing massive, just a small promo to introduce herself to PROGRESS, and yet she was ecstatic! This could finally be her big break!

The night of the show brought a petrified feeling to the young woman; what if they didn’t like her? She had been so focused on working out what she was going to say that she hadn’t even pondered the possibility that it could all go horribly wrong; meaning that when the thought did finally hit her, it was at the worst possible time- minutes before she was to make an entrance. Panic ensued and Y/N was frantic, struggling to wrap her tape correctly and tugging at the ends of her hair as a coping mechanism (a failed coping mechanism, mind you.) Hearing some of the other wrestlers chuckling at her flailing form was not helping calm her mind. A hand grabbed one of hers and finished wrapping her hand up before moving on to the other. Had she been able to form a coherent sentence, Y/N would have gladly thanked the…. man, judging by the shape and size of the hand holding her arm, and most likely would have apologised for being a nuisance.

“Take your time when wrapping up, you’ll wrap it too tight if you rush like that. Would hate for you to lose the flow of blood to your hands, you wouldn’t be able to do much wrestling if they fell off.” Inwardly groaning, she raised her head to confirm that this was who she thought.

Moustache? Check!

Glasses? Check!

Adorable face? Check, Check, Check!

“Y/N, right? I’ve watched you on YouTube. You’re really good.” It was like someone had smacked her in the face with praise, she couldn’t help the blush flooding her face. Tyler Bate was complimenting her wrestling.

“Yeah, that’s me! I meant that’s my name not that I know I’m good. I mean, I know I’m good but I’m not boastful, you’re awesome! Big fan, big…fan…. I’ll shut up now.” Hey God? If you could kill me now, that’d be great! she thought, not able to control the words leaving her mouth. One thing she couldn’t deny was that she was an absolute oddball, stumbling constantly over her words, talking too fast, pushing the boundaries of what society views as sane. The universe couldn’t give her a day off just so she could talk to Tyler, of course not. Luckily for her, he just laughed and pushed his glasses up.

“Nervous? Don’t be. That may sound simple coming from me but trust me, I get nervous all the time. Nearly had a damn heart attack speaking to Triple H the first time I met him. You’ll do amazing, I’m certain.”

“If you say so. I have a reputation for being pretty odd so I’m hoping that doesn’t come through and ruin this for me all thanks to my massive mouth and the constant flow of ‘Panic! At The Disco’ lyrics going through my head instead of regular thoughts. I’m a pathetic mess,” she paused to take a breath before continuing to spew word vomit, “I’m probably bothering you but you’re too nice to say it. Happens all the time to me, I’m a walking, talking ball of annoying.”

Tyler didn’t seem to mind the ‘pathetic mess’ though, really showing his age with his smile. The moment soon came to an end as one of the guys backstage alerted Y/N that her music was about to hit. However, before he walked away, Tyler decided to make his move. “Trent, Pete and I are gonna grab something to eat after the show. Do you…want to join me- I mean, join us?“ By this point, he was as flustered as Y/N, blushing and scratching the back of his neck. Y/N nodded and kissed his cheek.


The promo went off with out a hitch and Y/N got to spend the rest of the show backstage, watching Moustache Mountain in their match. She got a few funny looks from the others in the back after they won; she squealed and flailed, looking mental in the process. After the show was over, the four wrestlers went to a restaurant (vegan friendly, of course), the experience allowed Y/N to see how each of BSS acted outside of the ring.

Trent loved to laugh, relishing in each and every joke that left the lips of his three companions that evening. He was extremely friendly to her, giving her advice on wrestling when she asked, and he gave her his phone number, saying that she shouldn’t hesitate to call or text him for anything, even just to chat. Peter was laidback. Though he would never admit it, he appreciated the company of his, albeit few, friends. He wasn’t short of stories to tell either, whether they were about British Strong Style or someone like Sami Callihan. And Tyler…well, he was just as odd as Y/N was. She and Trent got a good laugh at watching him try and pick up an ice cube in his drink by sucking through a straw. He did that for about five minutes before giving up and returning to his food.

Come the end of the night, the four had returned to the hotel they were staying at, Tyler walking Y/N back to her room. Pete and Trent had already gone to theirs. They found themselves stood at the door to the room, silence falling between them.

“Thanks for inviting me out after the show, I really enjoyed myself. It’s kind of nice knowing that we all have stuff in common besides wrestling.” She laughed, watching as Tyler began to scratch the back of his neck again. He took a deep breath, “Would you like to go out again sometime? I mean, just you and me? If that’s alright with you, of course because the boys can come if not and I-” Y/N cut him off with a quick kiss. It was nothing extravagant, just a sweet, simple kiss, something that made them both smile. She laughed once more, “I must say, your moustache tickles.”

“You’re an oddball. I do like that, though.”

With a goodnight kiss, Y/N closed the door. What she didn’t realise was that on the other side, her moustached companion had the biggest smile on his face and was already beginning to search for restaurants on his phone. She received a text just before she fell asleep.

Goodnight, Oddball.

Yeah, this one was a keeper.

I don’t feel all too well today due to too much stress at school, so here, have some crack-ish headcanons! ;)

 

Since I love the headcanon of Endeavor getting wrecked in a subtly, yet devastating way, let’s continue this one headcanon here and think…

 

What if Endeavor doesn’t give up that easily on taking Todoroki back “home”? He wants his son back at the Todoroki-family-residence, and a bunch of children, a weakened All Might (who’s still scary if he gets angry) and a lazy excuse of a teacher (who can erase even Endeavor’s quirk) are not going to stop the new number one hero.

 

Still, Endeavor waits until he knows that All Might and Aizawa out of the dorms one day before he goes to knock at the door. He doesn’t ring, he just bangs at the front door and then waits with crossed arms, ready to bark orders at the students until they cover in fear and go out of the way so that he can take Shouto and be out of here.

 

He underestimated Class 1-A, though. They are heroes. They have survived multiple villain attacks, coming out of it almost unscathed, and the experiences they share have forged bonds that won’t be broken that easily.

 

So when Bakugou opens the door – growling and cursing quietly because the others got him to move and greet their guest – Endeavor is in for a surprise, even if he doesn’t know it yet.

 

Bakugou stops, looks slowly up to meet Endeavor’s gaze. One could think that the boy is surprised, but he doesn’t show it. He merely lifts an eyebrow at the scowling flame-hero and grunts a “What is it?”

“I’ve come to pick my son up,” Endeavor announces, flames bursting from his moustache.

“Ah,” Bakugou says in a way that screams See if I care.

Endeavor ignores it and makes to move over the door step into the house.

 

He doesn’t even get to lift one foot, because Bakugou says, “Hey. We have a rule here.”

Something about the way he says it makes even the top hero hesitate and ask, “What rule?”

Bakugou looks at him blankly, before his expression morphs into a scowl and he growls, “No assholes in the house.”

And he slams the door into Endeavor’s face.

 

That would make the second time that exact same door gets slammed into the hero’s face, and he’s so stunned that he doesn’t even get angry in that moment, he just stares numbly at the wood inches from his nose.

 

In the meantime, Bakugou uses his head start to go back into the living room where the others have gathered up for homework, movies and games. Everyone stares at him, waiting for an explanation of what just happened.

And Bakugou explains, shortly, that there is “halfie’s asshole-dad” waiting in front of the door. And that that “old fart” probably won’t give up so easily. And this time, All Might and Aizawa are not here should the flame-hero loses his temper completely.

 

Unlike other people, that’s not something that scares the students of U.A.

Quite the opposite – they decide to make this afternoon a living hell for Endeavor. Just watch how long it takes that guy to explode literally.

 

So before Endeavor can start hollering and pounding at the door, Yaoyorozu rushes out of the living room before Todoroki can stop her and goes to open the door.

“Yes?” She asks oh-so-sweetly before Endeavor can say something.

 

Before he can yet again try to step into the house, however, Yaoyorozu pretends to recognize him just then and there and she gasps loudly and dramatically, before she yells loudly over her shoulder, “Everyone! Get the fire extinguisher, there is a burning man in front of the door!”

And she slams the door. Again.

 

The next to open it, only seconds later, is Mina.

(By now, Endeavor is bursting with fire, eyebrow twitching while he tries and fails to control his temper.)

Mina takes one look at him, takes a deep breath and starts screaming, that high-pitched, piercing scream only a terrified Banshee can produce. It almost makes Endeavor’s ears bleed.

And she slams the door again.

 

In the following minutes, it goes on like this – each student goes to open the door, makes an offhanded comment about Endeavor, screams, laughs, yells, curses, or does something else to drive the hero up the wall, and then slams the door before Endeavor can react appropriately. Then they run back into the living room, laughing so hard that their sides hurt, and switch with one of their classmates.

 

It goes like this for example:

 

“Ah, sorry, we don’t let strangers in.”

*Slam*

“We don’t buy anything!”

*Slam*

“Wrong house!”

*Slam*

“Right house, but you’re not welcome.”

*Slam*

“Eh, you didn’t even bring a present!”

*Slam*

“Todoroki? Pretty sure his dad lives here too, so nope, I don’t know you, sorry!”

*Slam*

“Still the wrong house!”

*Slam*

 

Of course the children also contact Toshinori and Aizawa in the meantime to let them know that there is Endeavor in front of the house who gets angrier and angrier by the minute (Why he gets angry? Of course the children have no idea…) Both teachers drop everything they are doing and rush back to the dorms, getting there at almost the same time.

 

They come right on time to see Endeavor yelling at the front door, pounding against it with a fistful of flames. By now, though, Todoroki has frozen the door and the surrounding walls from the inside so that the fire shows no effect at all.

 

It’s enough for both Toshinori and Aizawa to bodily drag the raging flame-hero off of the school grounds, using their quirks – or what remains of them – probably a bit too strongly, but oh well, who cares so much about that? It’s an emergency, after all.

 

When they get back to the dorms, not even Toshinori needs to ask if the students, especially Todoroki, are okay.

Because the children are laughing as one, so hard that some of them are gasping for breath, and Todoroki is doubled over, clutching his sides, and laughing out loud.

 

And there is a video of the whole Endeavor-incident, freshly recorded with Kirishima’s brand-new camera, playing on the TV in the living room.

 

(Aizawa shrugs and goes to get his sleeping bag, while Toshinori just chuckles and joins the children to watch the comedy show.)

Dearest creature in creation,
Study English pronunciation.
I will teach you in my verse
Sounds like corpse, corps, horse, and worse.
I will keep you, Suzy, busy,
Make your head with heat grow dizzy.
Tear in eye, your dress will tear.
So shall I! Oh hear my prayer.
Pray, console your loving poet,
Make my coat look new, dear, sew it!

Just compare heart, beard, and heard,
Dies and diet, lord and word,
Sword and sward, retain and Britain.
(Mind the latter, how it’s written.)
Now I surely will not plague you
With such words as plaque and ague.
But be careful how you speak:
Say break and steak, but bleak and streak;
Cloven, oven, how and low,
Script, receipt, show, poem, and toe.

Hear me say, devoid of trickery,
Daughter, laughter, and Terpsichore,
Typhoid, measles, topsails, aisles,
Exiles, similes, and reviles;
Scholar, vicar, and cigar,
Solar, mica, war and far;
One, anemone, Balmoral,
Kitchen, lichen, laundry, laurel;
Gertrude, German, wind and mind,
Scene, Melpomene, mankind.

Billet does not rhyme with ballet,
Bouquet, wallet, mallet, chalet.
Blood and flood are not like food,
Nor is mould like should and would.
Viscous, viscount, load and broad,
Toward, to forward, to reward.
And your pronunciation’s OK
When you correctly say croquet,
Rounded, wounded, grieve and sieve,
Friend and fiend, alive and live.

Ivy, privy, famous; clamour
And enamour rhyme with hammer.
River, rival, tomb, bomb, comb,
Doll and roll and some and home.
Stranger does not rhyme with anger,
Neither does devour with clangour.
Souls but foul, haunt but aunt,
Font, front, wont, want, grand, and grant,
Shoes, goes, does. Now first say finger,
And then singer, ginger, linger,
Real, zeal, mauve, gauze, gouge and gauge,
Marriage, foliage, mirage, and age.

Query does not rhyme with very,
Nor does fury sound like bury.
Dost, lost, post and doth, cloth, loth.
Job, nob, bosom, transom, oath.
Though the differences seem little,
We say actual but victual.
Refer does not rhyme with deafer.
Foeffer does, and zephyr, heifer.
Mint, pint, senate and sedate;
Dull, bull, and George ate late.
Scenic, Arabic, Pacific,
Science, conscience, scientific.

Liberty, library, heave and heaven,
Rachel, ache, moustache, eleven.
We say hallowed, but allowed,
People, leopard, towed, but vowed.
Mark the differences, moreover,
Between mover, cover, clover;
Leeches, breeches, wise, precise,
Chalice, but police and lice;
Camel, constable, unstable,
Principle, disciple, label.

Petal, panel, and canal,
Wait, surprise, plait, promise, pal.
Worm and storm, chaise, chaos, chair,
Senator, spectator, mayor.
Tour, but our and succour, four.
Gas, alas, and Arkansas.
Sea, idea, Korea, area,
Psalm, Maria, but malaria.
Youth, south, southern, cleanse and clean.
Doctrine, turpentine, marine.

Compare alien with Italian,
Dandelion and battalion.
Sally with ally, yea, ye,
Eye, I, ay, aye, whey, and key.
Say aver, but ever, fever,
Neither, leisure, skein, deceiver.
Heron, granary, canary.
Crevice and device and aerie.

Face, but preface, not efface.
Phlegm, phlegmatic, ass, glass, bass.
Large, but target, gin, give, verging,
Ought, out, joust and scour, scourging.
Ear, but earn and wear and tear
Do not rhyme with here but ere.
Seven is right, but so is even,
Hyphen, roughen, nephew Stephen,
Monkey, donkey, Turk and jerk,
Ask, grasp, wasp, and cork and work.

Pronunciation – think of Psyche!
Is a paling stout and spikey?
Won’t it make you lose your wits,
Writing groats and saying grits?
It’s a dark abyss or tunnel:
Strewn with stones, stowed, solace, gunwale,
Islington and Isle of Wight,
Housewife, verdict and indict.

Finally, which rhymes with enough –
Though, through, plough, or dough, or cough?
Hiccough has the sound of cup.
My advice is to give up!!!

— 

THE CHAOS by Dr. Gerard Nolst Trenité (Netherlands, 1870-1946)

@theblamegabe

Fic: Rare Is This Love (Keep It Covered)

Fandom: The Walking Dead

Pairing: Caryl

Word Count: 4018

(A/N: This is a season 7 finale speculation fic, loosely based on spoilery rumours. Also available here on AO3. Hope you all enjoy. Forever nervous about writing Caryl and getting them right.)



When Daryl next lays eyes on Carol, the day the Saviours attack Alexandria, riding through the gates with Ezekiel and two dozen other people like some damn post-apocalyptic Joan of Arc, his first reaction isn’t relief, it’s terror. Because she is here, in the thick of it again, doing the exact thing he’d tried so hard to protect her from, and if she doesn’t die today, she’d told him there’ll be nothing left of her anyway if she is forced to kill again.

She’ll disappear for good, fade away, and if that happens she might as well take him with her. He’d been fighting, holding on, for her, and without her it’ll all be for nothing. And so he throws himself into the fray, the chaos of bodies, bullets, and horses, trying desperately to reach her, to not lose sight of her.

Whilst she’d been tucked away in that house, he’d told himself she was safe. Or safer than the rest of them. He could focus, breathe, and do what needed to be done so she wouldn’t have to… She’s not supposed to be here. And she’s even more of a target right now on that damn horse.

For a split second their eyes meet and time stops; he sees her inhale sharply, eyes wide with relief and fear and need, mirroring his own, then a body barrels into his chest, knocking him to the ground and the breath from his lungs. He lands hard, with the weight of his attacker crushing him further, and his hands fly up to land punches, grabbing and yanking at clothing, anything to throw the other man off.

There’s the glint of a knife, and he catches the wrist of the hand holding it just in time, holds it, shaking, inches away from his eye as the man (stupid moustache, sadistic grin, Simon says) forces it down.

“Found you,” Simon smirks, “Didn’t beat any sense into you then.”

Keep reading

in the spirit of november 30th and the last day of “no shave november” i give you this zimbits fic. in which jack finally shaves his moustache and to say that bitty is thrilled would be an understatement. it’s all very warm and fuzzy, but not in a movember moustache way.  

When Jack get’s home from the game the apartment is dark and quiet, but the light over the oven is on and he can smell butter and bananas, so he knows that Bitty’s still awake. The Falconers played the Lightning and won the game 4-2. Jack scored the opening goal and got an assist on the last one that helped to keep them ahead. He’s feels exhausted, but he perks up when he sees Bitty shuffle out of the bedroom in a Falconer’s hoodie and that pair of red shorts.

“Jack! I didn’t hear you come in,” Bitty exclaims when he notices Jack standing in the doorway, his shoes still on and his bag still slung over his shoulder. “Congrats on the win, sweetheart.”

Jack smiles and drops his bag before he welcomes Bitty with open arms as the other man walks over for a hug. “Thank you, mon lapin,” Jack replies before he presses a kiss into Bitty’s hair. These moments are his favourite. Coming home to a warm apartment that looks and smells like it’s been lived in while he was out. Bitty left a couple of bowls on the counter and his textbooks are strewn over the coffee table. It’s perfect. Jack likes having someone here with him. He likes coming home to someone. 

Jack pulls away slightly and tilts Bitty’s head up with a finger under his chin, but when closes his eyes and leans in for the kiss, instead of lips, he feels two fingers hold him back. His eyes snap open as he begins to worry that something is wrong. “Bits?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, honey,” Bitty sighs when he sees Jack’s furrowed brow and he takes his fingers away from Jack’s mouth. “But… you promised…” he trails off as he traces his thumb over Jack’s moustache, making a face of distaste as he does so. 

Jack smirks as he remembers the conversation that they had last night before bed, and the night before that, and the day before that over the phone. “I promised I’d shave off the moustache when I got home from the game on the thirtieth,” he recalls, like a mantra.

Keep reading

BTS Reaction To You Being Insecure

A/N: This is a re-upload from the old “thestorytellerofkpop” account! The gifs aren’t mine and all credit goes to the original owners. :3 Admin Germane

WARNING: MENTIONS INSECURITIES SO IF THAT BOTHERS YOU THEN DON’T READ!

Jin: “Jagiya? Why aren’t you eating? Do you not like the food?” Jin would ask as he noticed you weren’t eating the dinner he made. You would shake your head no, smiling a fake smile.

“It’s good Jin, I’m just not that hungry is all.” you lied. Jin would purse his lips at you as he stared at you.

“You said that yesterday and the day before too. Are you feeling okay?” he asked. The confusion that lined his face made you feel guilty, so you sighed guiltily.

“Jin, do you think I’m fat?” you’d ask him quietly. Jin started at you in shock as he took one of your hands in his

“No of course not jagi! Is that why you aren’t eating? You’re body is beautiful just the way it is, I promise. Now please eat for me?” he asked, gently kissing your knuckles.

Suga: “Y/N why are you wearing pants? It’s over 100 degrees outside.” Suga asked as you stepped out if the bathroom. You’d pout as you looked down at your pants.

“So? They’re cute.” you pouted, but really you were just insecure about your stretch marks on your thighs. Suga would sigh and pull you into his lap, rubbing his hands over your thighs lovingly.

“Are you wearing pants just to cover your stretch marks  Y/N?” he asked, his sad gaze breaking your heart as you nodded.

“Y/N, do you know how much I love you? I love you with every cell in my body. I love all of you, even your stretch marks that make your thighs even more beautiful and luscious to me. I love leaving hickies on those marks when you’re shaking with pleasure under me. So please don’t hide those thighs from me, because I love them just as much as I love the rest of your body.”

J-Hope: “Hey Hobi, do you think I should start wearing contacts?” you asked him one day. He’d look at you in confusion as he playfully pushed your glasses back up your nose.

“Why would you ask that Y/N? You look beautiful with glasses.” he’d ask you.

“Don’t you think they make my face look fat and squishier that it really is? Or that it makes me look dorky?” you asked, frowning slightly as you looked down to your hands.

“What? Jagi you’re glasses make you unique, not dorky. I love how they bring out your amazingly bright eyes and how they make your cheeks look super kissable.” he’d smile, making you giggle as he kissed your cheeks playfully.

“I love you just the way you are jagi, you don’t have to change one bit.”

Rap Monster: “Y/N, you’ve been staring at your hands for over 20 minutes. If you’re waiting for something to happen to them, I don’t think it’ll happen for a while.” Rap Mon would tease as he sat next you at the kitchen table.

“Can I ask you something Namjoon?”

“Ask me anything, love.”

“Do you think I have man hands?” you’d ask sadly. Namjoon would look at you in shock for a moment before smiling softly at you.

“Love, your hands are amazing. They fit perfectly into mine, see?” he pointed out as he held your hands in his own.

“Not to mention how great they feel tugging on my hair or how they leave the most beautiful marks on my back after we have sex. Your hands are the most petite and feminine hands I’ve ever held. So don’t think they aren’t perfect, okay my love?”

Jimin: “Baby! I’m home!” he’d call out to you. You wouldn’t answer, which was really odd because you’d usually run to him once he got home. He began to search the house for you and he sighed in relief when he found you in the bathroom, running your hands over your face. He’d hug you from behind as he watched you observe your face, not acknowledging his presence.

“Whatcha looking for?” he asked you.

“Nothing…just noticing all the ugly pimples I have.” you’d admit to Jimin. He’d tsk at you playfully and start peppering your face with kisses.

“What do you mean Y/N I only see beauty looking back at me, no blemishes in sight because even those are beautiful to me.”

V: “Y/N! Whatcha doing?” V asked, hopping into the bedroom with a happy smile in his face. He noticed that you were rubbing your upper lip with a certain discomfort in the mirror of your phone. V would cock his head to the side in curiosity and watch you until you spoke up.

“Taehyung, why must the gods curse me with such manliness?” you asked dramaticly, falling back against the bed. V would laugh and sit down next to you.

“What do you mean? You’re not manly at all.” he’d tease, poking your arm.

“Tell that to the moustache I’m growing.” you’d say, pouting slightly. V would laugh even harder, making you glare at him.

“Jagi, I have no earthly idea what you’re talking about. Your lips are beautiful, and trust me, there’s no moustache in sight.” V would say, pecking your lips softly. “I promise you.”

Jungkook: “Ooh! Jagi, those heels would look so good on you!” Jungkook would exclaim, handing you a pair of black Stiletto heels as the two of you were out shopping together.

“But Kookie, then I’ll be taller than you if I wear those around.” you’d say, pushing the shoes back into his arms.

“So? Who cares? I think they’d make your legs look amazing.” he’d smile, handing you back the heels. “Please try them on? Please?” he’d beg, giving you the puppy dog eyes that made you melt.

“Fine.” you’d sigh, slipping off your usual flats and trading them out for the Stilettos

“Jungkookie, you only reach my nose now. I feel like a giant.” you’d say as Jungkook beamed up at you.

“You look beautiful.” he’d say, leaning up a bit the place a kiss on your lips.

“Yeah but I’m so tall now, maybe I should just put them back…”

“No! Jagi, I don’t care if you’re taller than me. None of that matters. I love you and you love me, and that’s all I care about. Height isn’t a big deal. So what if in heels you’re taller than me? Heels show off those sexy legs of yours that I love so much. So c'mon, let’s go and buy you these shoes, okay? And I want you to wear them when we go out tonight.”

IMPERIAL – Shanks/Makino, in which Shanks comes home with a ‘stache. (I blame @saessenach for this)

“She’s not gonna like it.”

“No? I think she might.”

“You’ve seen it, right?”

A snort. “I’d have to be blind not to. I wager you could see it from Dawn now. Like a signal flare.”

The little island sat on the horizon in the distance, cheerfully unawares under the bright midday sun drenching the deck, a warmth of gold and salt-kissed sea spray as the prow cleaved through the water.

“She might not mind all that much,” someone said, after a lull.

“A thousand says she won’t let him touch her before he shaves.”

“I’ll take that bet.”

“My money’s still on her liking it. Boss always had a beard. She didn’t seem to mind it before.”

“If you want to call that a beard, sure.”

“It’s more than what you’ve got.”

Now it is, yeah. Sea’s tits, I swear that thing gets bigger every day.”

“I know. I can’t stop staring at it. It’s like it’s pulling me in.” A beat, and then, “Given the size of it, I wouldn’t be surprised if it had a magnetic field.”

“You know I can hear you, right?” Shanks asked from across the deck.

Keep reading

My first GIF! Trying to show the process of my Dorian Pavus painting. Yay or nay for GIFs?

I find it funny how he turns into a monster mid-way in there and ends up fabulous as ever:’)

That One Fucking Unpronounceable Poem On Tumblr

Wonder how Americans say some of the stupid-ass words in the English language, vs everyone else? Even we have trouble sometimes. Other English speakers may enjoy listening to how this California girl does it.

From that poem post going around tumblr, here’s my reading of the abridged version of “The Chaos” by Gerard Nolst Trenité. 

If you can correctly pronounce every word in this poem, you will be speaking English better than 90% of the native English speakers in the world. After trying the verses, a Frenchman said he’d prefer six months of hard labour to reading six lines aloud. Try them yourself.

Dearest creature in creation,
Study English pronunciation.
I will teach you in my verse
Sounds like corpse, corps, horse, and worse.
I will keep you, Suzy, busy,
Make your head with heat grow dizzy.
Tear in eye, your dress will tear.
So shall I! Oh hear my prayer.
Just compare heart, beard, and heard,
Dies and diet, lord and word,
Sword and sward, retain and Britain.
(Mind the latter, how it’s written.)
Now I surely will not plague you
With such words as plaque and ague.
But be careful how you speak:
Say break and steak, but bleak and streak;
Cloven, oven, how and low,
Script, receipt, show, poem, and toe.
Hear me say, devoid of trickery,
Daughter, laughter, and Terpsichore,
Typhoid, measles, topsails, aisles,
Exiles, similes, and reviles;
Scholar, vicar, and cigar,
Solar, mica, war and far;
One, anemone, Balmoral,
Kitchen, lichen, laundry, laurel;
Gertrude, German, wind and mind,
Scene, Melpomene, mankind.
Billet does not rhyme with ballet,
Bouquet, wallet, mallet, chalet.
Blood and flood are not like food,
Nor is mould like should and would.
Viscous, viscount, load and broad,
Toward, to forward, to reward.
And your pronunciation’s OK
When you correctly say croquet,
Rounded, wounded, grieve and sieve,
Friend and fiend, alive and live.
Ivy, privy, famous; clamour
And enamour rhyme with hammer.
River, rival, tomb, bomb, comb,
Doll and roll and some and home.
Stranger does not rhyme with anger,
Neither does devour with clangour.
Souls but foul, haunt but aunt,
Font, front, wont, want, grand, and grant,
Shoes, goes, does. Now first say finger,
And then singer, ginger, linger,
Real, zeal, mauve, gauze, gouge and gauge,
Marriage, foliage, mirage, and age.
Query does not rhyme with very,
Nor does fury sound like bury.
Dost, lost, post and doth, cloth, loth.
Job, nob, bosom, transom, oath.
Though the differences seem little,
We say actual but victual.
Refer does not rhyme with deafer.
Foeffer does, and zephyr, heifer.
Mint, pint, senate and sedate;
Dull, bull, and George ate late.
Scenic, Arabic, Pacific,
Science, conscience, scientific.
Liberty, library, heave and heaven,
Rachel, ache, moustache, eleven.
We say hallowed, but allowed,
People, leopard, towed, but vowed.
Mark the differences, moreover,
Between mover, cover, clover;
Leeches, breeches, wise, precise,
Chalice, but police and lice;
Camel, constable, unstable,
Principle, disciple, label.
Petal, panel, and canal,
Wait, surprise, plait, promise, pal.
Worm and storm, chaise, chaos, chair,
Senator, spectator, mayor.
Tour, but our and succour, four.
Gas, alas, and Arkansas.
Sea, idea, Korea, area,
Psalm, Maria, but malaria.
Youth, south, southern, cleanse and clean.
Doctrine, turpentine, marine.
Compare alien with Italian,
Dandelion and battalion.
Sally with ally, yea, ye,
Eye, I, ay, aye, whey, and key.
Say aver, but ever, fever,
Neither, leisure, skein, deceiver.
Heron, granary, canary.
Crevice and device and aerie.
Face, but preface, not efface.
Phlegm, phlegmatic, ass, glass, bass.
Large, but target, gin, give, verging,
Ought, out, joust and scour, scourging.
Ear, but earn and wear and tear
Do not rhyme with here but ere.
Seven is right, but so is even,
Hyphen, roughen, nephew Stephen,
Monkey, donkey, Turk and jerk,
Ask, grasp, wasp, and cork and work.
Pronunciation (think of Psyche!)
Is a paling stout and spikey?
Won’t it make you lose your wits,
Writing groats and saying grits?
It’s a dark abyss or tunnel:
Strewn with stones, stowed, solace, gunwale,
Islington and Isle of Wight,
Housewife, verdict and indict.
Finally, which rhymes with enough,
Though, through, plough, or dough, or cough?
Hiccough has the sound of cup.
My advice is to give up!!!

hiraeth / part 1

“…hyung..” yoongi whispers to the older man who’s sleeping at the other bed. the alarm clock has been ringing on ther older man’s night stand and it hasn’t stopped. what time is it even?

“jin hyung! hey!” yoongi says louder this time while his eyes still closed. the alarm clock is really on full blast now. if its only near ny yoongi, it would’ve been long destroyed from the amount of throwing he would’ve done.

yoongi continues to ignore the alarm clock and rolls over his side and uses his pillow as a giant headset to block the ringing. even so, it doesn’t work. yoongi can still hear the wretched thing on full blast and he’s had enough of it.

“KIM SEOKJIN. YOUR FUCKING ALARM CLOCK IS RINGING. STOP IT, ASSHOLE.” yoongi then shouts but he realizes, if jin was there he would’ve been the one to close it. yoongi slowly opens his eyes and yawns. its already morning and jin would’ve been awake hours ago, guess he forgot to close his alarm clock.

yoongi gets up from his bed (an amazing feat for someone like him, honestly.) and heads over to his roommate’s side to find an empty and fixed bed. jin probably woke up early to prepare them breakfast. maybe the breakfast would be enough for yoongi to forgive his roommate for forgetting to turn off his alarm clock. maybe.

the younger man searches for a black hoodie from his closet before going out of their bedroom. alas, he finds an old black hoodie underneath all the shirts and pants. yoongi puts on the hoodie (his torso is out in the open even though night time is really chilly) and grabs his phone underneath the blankets he slept in.

yoongi gets out of their room to find the others on the ground. yoongi fishes out his phone from the hoodie and checks the time. its 9:30 am, of course all of them are awake but jin isn’t on the ground. the children looked confused while taehyung’s stomach is as loud as his mouth.

“what the fuck are you all doing.” it wasn’t really a question from yoongi, more like a complaint. namjoon noticing that the 2nd oldest isn’t having bullshit for breakfast, he cuts to the chase. “hyung, did jin hyung leave any note or whatnot? he’s not here.”

“i checked your room at 8 o'clock and he wasn’t on his bed or yours.” jimin chimes in and rubs his eyes. taehyung adds in “and we’re really starving. i texted him when jimin said he wasn’t in your room. still no response.”

yoongi looks at them weirdly and approaches the circle they form on the ground when they could’ve used the large couch. he sits down next to hoseok and namjoon and ruffles his hair. its too early for this. jin should be dealing with them but curse the age system they have.

“you sure you brats didn’t forget when he said something about going out to get grocery or going to the studio?” yoongi says and clicks his tongue. jungkook shakes his head and so does hoseok.

“i asked the dance teacher if he was there in the dance studio. he wasn’t there.” hoseok says and scratches his (probably) week old moustache.

“he didn’t say anything. i’m the next person who wakes up in the morning after him so if he was here, he would’ve said something to me.” jungkook adds in and leans a bit on hoseok who’s right beside him.

“it couldn’t be…maybe he-” taehyung says but quickly cut by namjoon. “he didn’t leave bts, taehyung. don’t be overracting.”

“what if he did. as if we treated him properly to begin with.” taehyung says and crosses his arms. this kid is acting out because he’s hungry. namjoon would probably not bite back if he wasn’t hungry as well.

“do you want us to start treating jin hyung like a king?!” namjoon fires back at taehyung but before taehyung can respond back, yoongi clicks his tongue. the two stopped arguing and looked down on the floor instead.

“he’s not here, okay. he’s not in the dance studio either, great. let’s have breakfast or else all of us will kill each other.” yoongi says and then saw jimin and hoseok ran to their respective rooms like foxes. namjoon and taehyung are avoiding each other like the plague when they stood up. jungkook gets up from the circle and goes to wear his stan smiths. yoongi goes to his bedroom and grabs his wallet and spares a glance at his roommates side; he went to look around a bit and he opened his roommates closet and it was empty. yoongi has a weird feeling setting down.

anonymous asked:

Coran

general opinion: fall in a hole and die | don’t like them | eh | they’re fine I guess | like them! | love them | actual love of my life 

hotness level: get away from me | meh | neutral | theoretically hot but not my type | pretty hot | gorgeous! | 10/10 would bang

hogwarts house: gryffindor | slytherin | ravenclaw | hufflepuff (or ravenclaw but I mostly lean towards hufflepuff)

best quality: His whole personality tbh.

worst quality: I’m gonna have to say his moustache. As fun as it is to theorise with @dork-empress about Altean migratory facial hair, I’m really not a fan of moustaches in general. 

ship them with: I kind of enjoy Alfor/Coran and theories/headcanons about his possible dead family/partner but tbh I dont really ship him with anyone

brotp them with: The paladins, but mostly Lance. Also Alfor when he was alive. 
needs to stay away from: Umm…maybe space-pirates? I think I remember something from the space mall episode about gambling/backfired haggling that got him in trouble once or something? 

misc. thoughts: I hope he gets a really badass moment in season 3.