not a one of them is from the us

I recently spent some time on vacation in Devon, in the United Kingdom. While there, I took pictures almost exclusively of dogs in order to catalog them and how they differ from the American dogs that I am used to.

Dogs of Devonshire, England

Ocean Dog - They occasionally wash ashore during high tide. This one looked on us for a moment before returning home.

Stealth Dog - He spies on his enemies and uses the information to his advantage.

Beach Dog - He has lost a kingdom to the sea, and waits for the time when it rises again.

Spit Dog - He eats a lot of grass and spits rudely. Reminds me of home.

Camouflage Dog - His ability to change colors and blend in with his surroundings is like nothing else in the dog world.

Angular Dog - This dog is aerodynamically sculpted. Lots of sharp ends. Possibly developed for military use?

Snake Dog - ???


A little gift from me!

Here they are! My 100, 200, and 300 followers gifts! I decided to clump them all together into one post like a little bundle. I cannot believe that all of you decided to follow my trash blog, and I am so grateful. Anyways I really hope you guys enjoy this!

- Base Game Compatible

- Custom Thumbnail

- 25 Swatches for All and the cropped sweater has a few stripey patterns :)

Tag me if you use this I would love to see what you do with it!

TOU- Please don’t claim this as your own. Feel free to recolor but don’t include the mesh and give proper credit <3

downloads (no adfly) // Turtleneck / PJs to Work / Sweater

Credits, EA

Pictures of them in game under the cut.

Paladin Headcanons

Shiro:  Has insomnia which only got worse after he got kidnapped by the galra, used to babysit pidge when she was little, met matt when they were both 16, was overall a good teacher at the garrison, taught Keith (his adopted brother) abt astronomy when he was little and the two would watch the stars

Keith: Never really met his mom probably she left when he was a baby, is touch starved, loves watching the stars, has anxiety, loves watching space/ufo documentaries, lowkey had a crush on Fox Mulder, loves wearing hoodies, his PJs are just a t shirt and shorts or a t shirt and boxers, sleeps in all the time, stays up late, curses a lot, falls asleep easily during car rides.

Lance: Has naturally curly hair, loves kids so much and is amazing with them, his mom taught him about astronomy, had bad acne when he was like 12, helps hunk when he gets nervous, comforts pidge when she gets sad about Matt and Sam, overall really good at helping people when they need it, he surfs, he collected shells from the beach when he was little, always was the one who put on the camera for a family photo and ran to the rest of the family before it went off.

Hunk: His mom gave him his headband when he was little, has really warm and soft hands, uses lotion a lot, helped tutor younger kids in the garrison abt math, has panic attacks sometimes, he taught himself about machinery, loved learning about space in school.

Pidge: Does not let anyone touch her laptop, actually doesn’t mind dresses she used to wear them a lot, matt was trans too and let her use his old clothes, became very close with her mom after matt and her dad disappeared, did all she could to find them before the garrison,  she picked out the dog when she was like 4, loves playing video games.

Alec had once heard a story when he was young.

He had been curled up in bed with his sister one night, back when they still slept in the same bed together. Back then they refused to sleep without each other, and without their mother reading them a bedtime story.

Isabelle had been quite fond of adventure stories, as had Alec. He liked the descriptions of the heroes of the novels. They always sounded so chivalrous and brave and Alec wanted to be like that. But Alec also harbored a hidden love for the romances that often crept into those stories.

But it was that night in particular that Alec and Isabelle’s mother read them a story of a bond. A bond that was purportedly stronger than those of parabatai, something Alec didn’t even think was possible. This bond, this anchor, it tied the two together and made them one. It confused Alec, for there was no bond stronger than a parabatai bond.

But this bond, his mother had explained, was not one that any stele could draw. It wasn’t a rune on flesh, it was a rune on the heart.

“Sounds painful,” Alec made a face while Isabelle giggled behind her clasped hands.

“Love often is,” his mother gave him a slightly strained smile and Alec frowned at that. He didn’t think love was supposed to be painful. It didn’t make any sense.

Alec used to think that story was just that. A story, a fable to tell children. A legend, a myth. But it was real. He knew firsthand.

Keep reading

Siren Sings a Somber Song

Pairing: Siren!Reader x Bucky Barnes

Summary: You’re a Siren, being held captive by the Pierce Circus, cruelly put on display for every show, but it seems as if Bucky Barnes is the only one who truly sees you.

Warning: Mentions of Abuse, Language, SMUT (Ages 18+), Unprotected Sex (Please be safe!)

Word Count: 3.4k

Originally posted by minmiin1d


A/N: tag list is always open! x

 “And here we have a real-life Siren, ladies and gentlemen! Feast your eyes upon the witch of the sea!” You could hear Pierce’s muffled yell from within your tank as the curtain was pulled back and unveiled you to the audience. The harsh light caused you to squint and hold up your hand, the reflection of the spotlight even more overbearing due to the water surrounding you.

The rays reflected from each scale that littered your limbs as you watched the expressions of those crowding your dungeon-tank. Some were horrified, others intrigued. The children observed you in wonder, lightly pressing their small hands to the glass, as their parents scoffed with disgust. To them, you were either a miracle or a curse and, at this point, you couldn’t even be sure as to which one was correct.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

CHALLENGE ACCEPTED 19 with jason & damian?

“You’re gonna make it, just stay awake.” 

Damian gave a quiet huff. “Of course I’m going to make it. I’m no weakling. Not like Richard.” 

Their older brother had given up and admitted defeat hours ago, falling asleep on the floor in front of the television, one hand thrown over his eyes. Jason had abandoned the couch to sit at the foot of it and had his feet propped up on Richard’s stomach. Damian suspected that the second the challenge was done he’d kick their older brother awake to lord their victory over him. 

“Boys, have you seen—” Father stood in the doorway, staring at the television with a puzzled frown. “Weren’t you watching this yesterday? Have either of you slept yet?” 

“No,” Jason replied, pausing the movie because even a moment’s interruption would ruin everything. “That was a different movie.” 

Father looked extremely skeptical. 

“We’re watching a series,” Damian said, taking pity on him because Jason certainly wouldn’t. 

Father blinked, glancing from the two of them to the television. “The Lord of the Rings?” 

Jason laughed. “The extended editions. Plus the Hobbit. Each movie twice, once with commentary and once without.” 

“Why?” Father asked, with a hesitance that came from suspecting one wrong word might make Jason blow up at him. Damian understood; this was the longest Jason had maintained a good mood in Father’s presence in recent memory.

“Because honor,” Jason replied, and then turned away and waved a dismissive hand at Father. “You’re too old to understand. Now leave us in peace, this is the last one and then I can finally leave this place and crash.” 

“Crash here,” Father said. “You have a room and it’s dangerous to drive on no sleep.” 

“Does your hypocrisy know no bounds?” Jason asked, but his voice was still remarkably cheerful. Damian suspected the combination of sleep deprivation and hideous boredom was getting to him. 

Father grunted and shook his head, leaving the room. Damian was not surprised when he returned a few seconds later. “Boys? Why is Tim duck-taped to the ceiling?” 

Damian looked up at where Drake was, indeed, taped to the ceiling, fast asleep. “He lost his honor, Father.” 

“He’s fine,” Jason said, slumping down and scowling at Father. “He’s even got a pillow. What more do you want?” 

“We’ll let him down if he asks, Father,” Damian said. “But as you can see, he’s quite comfortable there.” 

Father opened his mouth, thought for a few moments, and closed it again. Apparently Drake wishing to be taped to the ceiling to sleep comfortably was not outside the realm of possibility. “Well, I’m glad you’re all…getting along. Where’s Duke? Shoved in the chimney?” 

“No, he went to bed like a normal person because he has school,” Jason muttered. “You’d think you’d have more than a passing notion of what the kids you take in were doing with their lives, wouldn’t you?” 

Father sighed. “Jason, it’s Sunday.” 

“It is?” Jason scowled. “He lied to us. Damian, make a note. He’s next on the list.” 

Father coughed into his hand, before shoving away from the doorway and turning to leave again. “Enjoy your movie, boys.” 

“When we shove him in the chimney,” Damian said to Jason, once Father was gone, “we can tell him it was Father’s idea.” 

Jason cackled.

Frost (Chapter Three)

So I feel like this chapter is maybe a little boring… but it’s the first real interaction between Tony and Loki and the first stepping stone into their relationship, so I didn’t want to leave it out! Let me know what you guys think :)

If you want to be added to the tag list hit up my ASK BOX.


Enjoy :)

“Forgive me.” Loki stopped in his tracks a few steps into the library and bowed stiffly. “I was not aware that you were in here.”

“No it’s fine.” Tony waved him in, barely looking up from his book. “Come in. It’s a big library, you won’t even notice I’m here.”

“I highly doubt that.” Loki bared his teeth in something resembling a smile and started backing away. “I’ll leave you to your reading.”

“No, seriously.” Tony put his book down, frowning over Loki’s odd comment. “This is your library, not mine so–”

“As the consort of the King, it is in fact your library. I have plenty of books in my room to read.” Loki raised his eyebrows. “I will not intrude on your quiet. Good day, Sir Anthony.”

“Do you not like me?” Tony asked, sounding irritated and Loki’s eyes snapped shut, trying to hide the panic that filled them.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” he said through clenched teeth.

“No?” Tony challenged. “Because the other day in my room you said that I reacted to you the same way I react to my–” his throat moved as he swallowed uncomfortably. “–to the team. And at first that made me mad but then I sort of– well I don’t like that. I don’t like that I still react that way. I thought I was over all of it and it turns out I’m not. Not completely anyway, and I don’t like that. But it’s not that I equate you with them, I just– we have a weird past, you know?”

“Yes, I was told it took months for you to even be comfortable around Thor, much less comfortable around your Avengers. However, I’m sure whatever I said can be ignored as I actually have no opinion either way about how you act around me or any other person on Asgard. I was simply trying to get a rise out of you, and it has worked perfectly.” Loki kept his tone cool, his posture relaxed even though he felt like screaming.

Why was the mortal so upfront about everything? Why did he seem to take to heart everything Loki said? And more than that, why did it seem as if he was upset that Loki thought he was uncomfortable when they were together?

“Look.” Tony sighed. “Look. All I’m saying is, I don’t like that you said that. I don’t look at you like I look at my team. If anything, I don’t understand why I want to—”

No no no no no. Loki did start to panic then. The last thing he needed was this mortal bringing up the odd draw between the two of them, the way they couldn’t seem to not look at each other. He did not need a question about the Hjartslattur bond and he did not need to be standing here talking about anything even remotely related to it.

Keep reading

thekoopabrostts  asked:

I don't know if anyone asked this question before, but why isn't Underverse not in true 16:9 resolution?

This is another curious fact :P

Underverse started like an animated comic as .GIF format (From the 0.0 to the middle of 0.1). Since those animations had a lot of things, each gif was very heavy for tumblr, so I discovered that reducing their size became them less heavy.

When I decided to convert the first Underverse animations to video format I wanted to use a 16:9 resolution, but that meant I should redraw all 0.0 and 0.1 animations again to complete the blank spaces on screen. Also I didn’t want to make the other animations look different from the first ones. I’m so lazy so I just put those “watermarks” that also are helping me to protect my animations from content stealing in some way 

I feel like I need to say something right now, if only because it’s more productive than lying in bed crying and feeling helpless.

Before I begin, I should mention in advance that, due in part to having ADHD, I have genuine difficulty putting my thoughts together in a concise manner, which can lead to very long posts.  I understand if that puts anyone off from reading further, as I’m not even sure I know how to express what I’m feeling right now.

As a person, I was raised to be open-minded.  I’ve never known any other way to be.  I come from a highly LGBT-positive (bisexuality runs on my mother’s side of the family, and my godfather is gay), Democratic family that allowed me to express myself however I wanted, and consume whatever media I wanted (I’ve been watching horror films since I was a toddler, and I’ve been allowed to have facial piercings since age 16, and wear whatever I chose).  My immediate family is comprised of people that have known abuse, and overcome it (rape, CSA, alcoholism).  We have also been familiar with poverty.  The state we live in–where I’ve spent my entire life–had never gone red until this past election.

Having been born in 1983, I was alive through most of the presidency of one of the absolute worst leaders to ever take office: Ronald Reagan.  I lived through both Bush administrations.  I remember the “Satanism Scare”, the original backlash against violent video games, and 90′s “political correctness”.  The AIDS epidemic had barely begun.  PSAs aimed at children did their damndest to try to reverse the fact that drug use had become “fashionable” in the 80′s, and they practically beat us over the head with them during every commercial break while watching our Saturday morning cartoons.  I have seen a lot of bullshit (meaning that I have a lot to compare our current situation to), and always–always–I thought it was from the “bad” guys.  The “other” people, with the “wrong” values.

In less than five years, I’ve come to see that bullshit doesn’t only come from one “side”.  I’ve become disenchanted with the groups I had placed my faith and trust in for most of my life.  I’ve found myself disappointed and irritated with many actions done in the name of the things I believe in.  I feel as though we’ve reached critical mass, and that the people I thought were on my side–the “good guys”–bear more responsibility for it than any of them will ever admit.

Can I just ask when the FUCK so many of us on the left turned into the equivalent of yesterday’s paranoid WASP soccer moms and religious zealots?  When did we become the racists, sexists, and bigots, pretending those labels don’t apply to us just because they’re aimed at “the other” demographics?  And when I say “us” on the left, I’m really not so sure I even want to be here anymore, because it’s become a shamefully toxic and manipulative environment where people actually try to justify threats of death and violence over inane, pointless things that mean fuck all to the world at large.  I sure as hell don’t want to be a “right-winger” (because, remember–I was taught those were the “bad guys”), so where does that leave people like me?  In the mindset of “You’re either with us, or against us”, being fair and objective isn’t allowed.

When Trump became president, our news media and college campuses became rife with cries of “fascism”.  Where?  An overcooked yam in a suit that’s (rightfully) been the center of derision and mockery since he became involved in the election?  THAT’S what’s threatening you??  I’m sorry, have you never read about the shit Reagan pulled?  If you want to know what legitimate fascism is, go talk to someone that lived through Ferdinand Marcos’ rule in the Philippines.

Let’s establish something here: Those neo-Nazis were always here, BUT they had been shamed into hiding.  Suddenly, people were throwing the terms “Nazi” and “fascism” around, and these people started feeling more comfortable.  Those on the left started advocating for violence to combat mere differences of opinion, and white supremacists felt even more comfortable, because they were being shown that their methods were now socially acceptable.

People on the LEFT created the ideal environment for these people to crawl out of the woodwork, and feel like their belief system is validated and justified.  People on the LEFT spouted needless hatred, and gave these political cretins something to point to and say, “See?  We were right all along!”.  People on the LEFT willingly handed them the kind of antisocial behavior they’ve been dreaming of.  

We’re now all experiencing the consequences.  If the Democratic Party had given Bernie Sanders the nomination, he would have steamrolled the election, and you all know it.  Then where would the “fascism” be?  Still hiding.  Cowering.  Not a single soul would be throwing that word around right now.  And no one’s willing to admit that maybe–just maybe–the Democratic candidate we were given could have been the problem.  We’ve created an environment where criticism is not allowed against certain people, which makes it so much easier for our trust to be abused.

And it is being abused.  We are approaching legitimate fascism, and it’s coming from the complete opposite end of the political spectrum.  This is where the careless throwing around of serious terms comes into play, as even the slightest criticism is enough to have a person labeled “alt-right”, or even “a Nazi”.  All this does is make actual neo-Nazis and white supremacists believe they have more company and support than they actually do.  If you’re not ashamed and embarrassed as hell about all of this, then, well…you’re probably not the type that’s even read this far in the first place.

I don’t know what else I can say that I haven’t said in pieces before.  All I can say is that I’ve lost faith in a lot of people.  Nearly ALL people.  And for someone that used to be very cheerful and social, I feel as though a part of me has been taken away.  Many of us are forced to be distrustful, even when we’ve nothing to hide.  When the bar for what is deemed “socially unacceptable” keeps being lowered, how long before it reaches you?  And when will the limit end on what we consider “hate speech”?  When you turn valid criticism against needless violence into “hate speech”, how long before it reaches those “vent posts” and “critical” blogs?  Because I’ve legit seen someone use the term “hate crime” because someone else didn’t ship the same two fictional video game characters together, and if you think those things are comparable, you are completely proving my point.

Lovers’ Paradox.

Every time he gloats over you, you just want to punch him in the face to shut him up. With your fist or maybe with your mouth. You still aren’t quite sure which one to use yet. Possibly both.

pairing: min yoongi x reader
genre: comedy, slight angst, fluff
type: enemies to lovers / police au
word count: 10,542 words
warnings: a bunch of sexual innuendos
author’s note: happy birthday to my mean ho, pablo, fellow yoongi appreciator, and the bestest friend in the entire universe @zephyoongist​ (i have a longer note for you at the bottom!)

bangtan police unit: a collab with @gukstudio

Lieutenant Min Yoongi had stationed himself at his desk for three hours already, starting from when he came in at six a.m. sharp, and practically inhaled the coffee he had bought from the quaint hole in the wall cafe near his apartment. Despite already downing the largest cup he could order from the shop, he no longer felt the effects of the extra shots of expresso and was forced to drink the watered-down version offered at his workplace. With more caffeine than actual rivulets of carmine running through his veins, Yoongi practically fuels his sleep deprived body with lethal doses of the stale and caustic coffee provided at the Bangtan Police Station.

The crisp sheets of paper from the latest case file he is examining are spread out across his desk in somewhat of a disarray, the original order he had put it in four hours ago now long gone, as he continuously rifles around for certain tidbits of information that can piece the solution together. Picking up what is now his third cup of coffee, he mumbles a variation of curses under his breath when he sees that he had been using the case’s manila folder as a coaster, glaring disdainfully at the blatant brown ring staining the front of the file. He is beginning to lose feeling in his backside, and his mind toys with the thought of taking a nap in one of the cots set up in the backroom. Yet, he cannot take his eyes away from the evidence laid out in front of him; the solution is right there—he can feel it beneath his fingertips as he trails them across the ridged papers and the dark ink.

Three rapid knocks are heard against the glass of his office door, and Yoongi looks up to see Hoseok—his second-in-command sergeant and long-time police partner—enter the room, nervously biting his lower lip. A deeper crease forms between his furrowed eyebrows as Yoongi takes one glance at the worried and tense expression adorning Hoseok’s ordinarily cheery face. He finally speaks up, his voice cracking slightly from disuse. “What is it, Hoseok?”

“Organized Crime sent their sergeant here to work on that case with you.” Hoseok gestures towards the opened file. “Apparently, it’s connected to a string of gang induced murders they’ve been tracking, and—”

“Oh, fuck, no.” Yoongi interrupts, rubbing his temples as he closes his eyes. “Please don’t tell me it’s—”

“Guess I’m stuck with you again. I’d say it’s a pleasure to work with you again, but it really isn’t, so let’s just cut the crap and get straight to it, pretty boy.”

Keep reading

j.j | imagine | confession

[ aw i love it! thanks for requesting! hope you enjoy it as much as I did - writing it :) ] 

“For the last time, no!” 

Tonight was supposed to be a night of relaxation, video games and junk food. It started out that way, but it currently wasn’t sticking to that route. The boys rarely would get time off to just goof around and chill, so it being one of those times - Y/n thought it would be a good idea to spend the night with them. So far, she regrets even stepping foot into the dorm. 

“Oh, come on! Just tell him already, all of us are sick of you two practically undressing each other with your eyes from across the room. It’s unbearable!” Taehyung whined from her right. 

“It’s pathetic.” Yoongi deadpanned, not even looking up from his phone. 

“We do not ‘undress each other with our eyes’! And besides, why do you guys care so much? It’s just a little crush, no big de- Jimin stop cheating!” 

“Then stop sucking!” 

“That’s what he said~!”  Hoseok was quick to add in, stuffing his mouth with chips as he laughed at his own quip. “Y/n, just face it. We all know that this is more than some crush - plus, you and Kookie would look so cute together!” 

“Aish, you guys are so annoying! If you’re gonna bug me about this every time I come over, then I might as well just start being like Yoongi and hibernate all day.”  

“Why is that such a bad thing?” Yoongi scrunches his face, offended. 

Rolling her eyes, Y/n mentally thanks the man in the sky that Jungkook wasn’t in the dorms at the moment. Helping out Jin and Namjoon for whatever reason, it left the rest of BTS to basically plan out the love life between her and their golden maknae. It was true, Y/n did have more than a crush on the bunny boy, but she’d rather die than ever admit it. 

Especially to his hyungs. 

It never failed that whenever she was over, the teasing would then begin. Because of it, Jungkook never really hung around her as much, the embarrassment becoming too frequent to the point where - like explained earlier - he started doing tasks with Jin and/or Namjoon. This led Y/n to feel both relief and sadness. Why did they have to stick their noses in things? Why? 

“We’ll leave you alone when you confess, I hope you know that.” Taehyung used his non-playing hand - at the moment - to shove her shoulder, nearly making her player skid off of the racetrack. 

“Or you can leave me alone now - I vote for that option.” Y/n glares, clicking her controller rapidly to get back into first place. Suddenly, she felt something poking her lower back, hitting spots that made her whole body clench up awkwardly. “H-Hey! Stop it - who is that?!” 

Not wanting to lose her spot in the race, she couldn’t even turn her head to see who it was that was poking her. It wasn’t until a cackle erupted into the calm atmosphere that she concluded who it was.  

“Hoseok! Cut it out - you’re breaking my concentration!” 

“I’ll stop if you confess to Jungkook,” She could just hear the grin in his voice, as his poking wasn’t showing any sign of stopping. 

“N-No! Stop it, I’m begging you!” Now it was starting to make her laugh, his foot pressing into places that sent tickles all up and down her spine that made her wiggle in her spot on the floor. “Hobi! Please, stop, I’m crying!” 

By now, Y/n’s laughter had increased in volume and her sight was becoming blurred with tears. Having no choice but to drop her controller and coil up into a protective ball, that seemed to spark interest in the three out of the fours boys. Yoongi merely watched as the game was paused - shaking his head slowly as she got tackled. The tickles were coming in from all around her, there being no escape from the sudden attack that was unleashed upon her.

“Say it, Y/n-ah~” Jimin cooed, running his short nails up and down her legs lightly, grabbing at the ankles if she tried to pull away. “Say it, and we’ll stop!” 

“You know you want to!” Tae smiles, enjoying the sight of her face shriveling up, her laughs weren’t even making a sound anymore - as she weakly tried to push them away. All this for a simple confession. 

It was so not worth holding it in, anymore. 

“A-Alright! Alright, okay!!” Y/n finally snapped, regaining her strength and shoving at the three until they were no longer hovering over her figure. “You want my confession so bad, then fine:

I love Jeon Jeongguk! I have ever since he first spoke to me, fumbling over his words and not having a clue on how to ask if I’ve heard of your group before. He was the cutest fluff ball I have ever met, everything about him was perfect in my eyes. Never did I think we would meet again after that - and what do you know - three years later, and here I am confessing what I’ve felt for so long to his nosy-ass friends, in a dorm living room at 11 o’clock at night! I’ve wanted to tell him for so long how I’ve felt about him, but never had the balls because I was scared I would ruin the best relationship I’ve had with a guy since…since forever! Even if we are just friends, that’s still good enough for me. Because even though it’s not everyday - I still get to see him. And seeing him makes me whole…seeing him…feels like home. So there. Happy now?” 

Y/n expected them to be bombarding her with teasing by now, or getting her cheeks pinched while they tell her how ‘adorable’ she was being. But, after opening her eyes, she was definitely not expecting them to either be staring with wide eyes, or wearing the biggest smirks on their faces - to where it looked as if they might split in half. It wasn’t until a familiar voice finally spoke out that caused Y/n’s blood to run cold. 

“Uh…we’re back.” Namjoon spoke with uncertainty, making Y/n want to just vanish into thin air and never be seen again. She could just feel in her bones that they heard everything, no doubt about it. 

She inhales, “He’s right behind me, isn’t he?” 

The three boys in front of her nod, while Yoongi chortles from his spot on the couch.

“It’s about fucking time.” 

anonymous asked:

Tom msged me on Facebook to donate to his new foundation. You should fundraise for that instead of UniCef.

I really hope you did not send him any money. There’s been a hoax Tom going around trying to get money from people for some time now. There is no Tom Hiddleston foundation. If he were to start a new charity, there would be a public appeal just as Tom has done many times with Unicef UK and other charities. 

While it’s not completely outside the realm of possibility to receive a private message from a celebrity, I am certain the first thing they say won’t be hey, send me some money. Please use common sense in interacting with these accounts: 

  • Is the account verified? 
  • Where are they asking you to send money? Are you donating directly to a charity website or are you sending money to some random address/paypal account?
  • How is the message written? Is it full of spelling/grammar mistakes? We all have seen enough evidence of Tom’s writing to know that if he’s sending a message it’s going to be Pulitzer Prize worthy.
  • Does the request make any sense? Somebody sent me a screenshot of one of the messages from this fake Tom asking them to send iTunes giftcards to help the children in South Sudan. Do we really think that’s high up on the priority list for a country where most people are starving and have no access to regular medical care or education? 

(a screenshot from one of the message people have received) 

obscenegirl  asked:

Hey,can you do one where he meets you somewhere,like you meet at a coffee shop and talk a lot but don't exchange phones or anything,and he writes a song or looks somehow for ya to see if he can find you? (Yeah,carolina,i know hahaha)

I changed this just a tiny little bit. x


It had been so long since Harry enjoyed quality time with Lux. He was, of course, used to seeing her but not one-on-one. So when Lou told him she was sick and Lux needed someone to pick her up from her ballet class, Harry was more than happy to do it, informing her that they’d be also getting ice cream.

“You have to go inside and ask for her. They don’t let the kids out, they make them wait inside with their teacher.” Lou had told him.

So when Harry arrived, that’s what he did. “I’m here to pick up Lux Atkin.” He told the receptionist.

“Oh, yes, Lou told us you are. But they’re still in the middle of practicing a song.” The woman smiled politely at him.

Harry nodded with a smile. “I’ll just wait here.”

“You can go inside if you want. Their teacher doesn’t mind.”

The woman led him to the room where soft music was coming out of, him looking from the window of the door, seeing small twirling figures and the back of a tall one. The woman opened the door gently for him, Harry thanking her quietly before he got inside and waited by the door, watching.

He tried to watch the adorable kids in their tutus and their twirling and their plies but he couldn’t. His eyes were fixed on the adult teaching them.
You were graceful and calm, facial expression soft and cheerful as you directed the kids in a non-frightening way.
His breath hitched when your eyes met his, feeling his heart start to race and his hands to get sweaty as you gave him a warm smile before diverting your attention back to the kids.

When the music stopped, Harry straightened his posture and wiped his hands on his pants as he got himself ready.

“Good job today, sweethearts.” You clapped for all of them, making them cheer and hug each other before they began hugging your legs and getting close to you, making you giggle.

Harry smiled subconsciously, looking at your happy face before looking at Lux who looked at you as if you put the stars in the sky.

“I’ll miss you, too, I’ll miss you, too. But I believe someone is waiting for one of you.” You said, smiling towards Harry, making all the kids look.

“Harry!” Lux screamed before running towards Harry, hugging his legs tightly. “Did you see me dancing?!”

Harry bent down, carrying her in his arms. “I did. You were amazing, love.”

“I want you to meet Miss Y/N!” Lux said excitedly before she turned towards you, “Miss Y/N! Miss Y/N!”

You looked at her in Harry’s arms, walking towards them. “What is it Lux?”

“I want you to meet Harry! Harry, meet Miss Y/N. Miss Y/N, meet Harry!” Lux then clapped with a grin after she gestured with her hands.

“It’s nice to meet you. Lux talks about you a lot.” You grinned, offering your hand for a handshake.

“Does she?” Harry smiled, shaking your hand. You only nodded. “I’m glad she does. I’m not always around, ’s good to know she remembers me.” Harry smiled at Lux who giggled, resting her head on Harry’s chest.

“Awe, of course she does.” You cooed.

“Actually, I’m going to take Lux for some ice cream. Maybe you could join and tell me some of the stuff you know about me?” Harry picked his balls from the ground — not literally — and asked.

“Oh,” You smiled before looking at the half empty dance room. “There are still three kids waiting for their parents and I should be waiting with them.”

“It’s okay, we can wait, can’t we, Lux?”


You grinned and nodded.
Soon enough, you had changed into your jeans and hoodie and took your hair out of your bun, putting it in a ponytail instead.

“Sorry I kept you waiting this long.” You apologized sheepishly as you reached Harry and Lux who were waiting for you by the door outside.

“It’s definitely no problem. Shall we get going then?” Harry raised his eyebrows with a dimpled face, pointing towards the door. You nodded, thanking him when he opened the door for you.

You opened the car’s backseat door for Harry as he buckled Lux in before he rushed to the passenger side, opening the door for you.

“Are you going to be opening all the doors now?” You giggled, getting inside.

“Is it impressive?” He joked, his hand on your opened door.

“Oh, very.”

“Then yes, I’m going to be opening all the doors.” Harry chuckled before closing the door and rushing to his side.

“You know, you’re a complete stranger. You could be kidnaping me.” You shrugged with a smile as you buckled your seatbelt.

“A nice kidnapper who’s taking you and a kid to have ice cream.” He grinned before driving off.


Sitting on the shop, Lux finished her small ice cream and was now playing games on Harry’s phone while you and Harry hit it off.

“I have been dancing since I was little. I have always wanted to be Odette in Swan Lake in the Royal Opera House.” You chuckled, looking down before licking your ice cream.

“And how is that turning out for you?” Harry asked with genuine interest.

“Let’s say I have been having my butt kicked with practice for months now for this week’s audition.” You grinned, blushing.

“Oh! You’re auditioning?” Harry asked with happiness in his tone. You only nodded. “I’ve seen you with the kids today, you’re wonderful. I’m sure you’ll do great.”

“This might sound a little weird but you kind of remind me of home. Your flower ring,” You pointed, “I have a drawing just like it on my childhood bedroom’s wall.”

Harry grinned at this. “Where do you come from?”


“And what is a Carolina girl like yourself doing in the lovely land of UK?” Harry asked in a more posh accent than he already had, leaning on the table.

“Alright don’t laugh, it’s kind of cliché, kind of lame,” You pointed at him with your index finger warningly.

Harry raised his hands defensively, shaking his head. “I would never.”

“Well,” You folded the ice cream wrapping paper and put it in the ashtray before looking at him. “My grandma told me to follow my dreams before she died. She knew how much I really wanted to play Odette, have performances in the opera, all that. She left me a whole load of share of money just for that. So here I am, in the lovely land of U.K.” You shrugged before blushing, looking down, “It’s very lame, I know.”

“Hey, hey, it’s definitely not lame. That’s amazing. You’re chasing your dreams and that’s honestly amazing. I’m sorry about your grandma.” Harry smiled softly, reaching out to put his hand on top of yours.

You shook your head with a smile, “Thank you. Really.”

“Now, tell me all about you. I think I’m up for strawberry lemonade.”

For two hours you and Harry talked about everything and anything before Harry had to drive you back to your car by the dance studio. You hugged Lux goodbye, Lux saying how much she’ll miss you before you walked to your car, Harry following you.

“Thank you for the ice cream. I had fun.” You smiled, unlocking your car before turning to face Harry.

“Thank you for coming. I’m glad you did, I had fun, too. I’m sure Lux won’t shut up about this for the next 60 years.” Harry chuckled.

You laughed, shaking your head. “She must be very sleepy and tired.”

Harry nodded, “Yeah, I’m taking her straight home anyway,” He gestured behind his back at Lux as you nodded. “Hey, uh, good luck with the audition.”

You opened the car door, smiling at him. “Thanks, Harry. I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, yeah, definitely,” Harry nodded rapidly. Just as you were about to get in the car, you turned around, placing a quick peck on his cheek with a blush before getting inside your car, giving him one last smile before driving off.

“Did you see that?” Harry asked Lux in disbelief.

“I did!”

For the rest of the day, Harry definitely couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. It was when he was going to bed that it fell.

“I didn’t take her number!”


“Hello?” Lou answered Harry’s call after the third ring in the afternoon.

“Hey, Lou, it’s Harry.”

“I have a called ID, Harry. Stop saying it’s you every time you call me.”

“Hey! Just making sure you know it’s me.” He defended himself.

Lou scoffed, “What is it that you want? I know you.”

“Right, so,” He cleared his throat, “Do you, by chance, happen to have Y/N’s phone number? Lux’s dance teacher?”

Harry groaned when he heard Lou laugh hysterically. “No way!”

“Aw, come on, Lou.” He groaned.

“Okay, okay,” She calmed down, “But no. I don’t actually. I only have the number of the studio and very sorry to burst your bubble but yesterday was Y/N’s last day as the kids’ dance teacher there.”

“What?! Why?” Harry slumped in his chair.

“Something about her own thing, Od-”

“Odette. Practice for Odette. Alright, thanks, Lou!” Harry was quick to hang up before he rushed to his room where he changed his clothes for something more ordinary for the world to see other than his avocado printed boxers.

He felt like this was a scene out of the movie, laughing to himself in the car as he thought that this would be a good Rom-Com which might have alerted the neighbor car in the red light, the man twice his age looking at him warily.
Once he reached the dance studio, he quickly rushed there to open the door, confused when it wouldn’t budge.
Just then, his eyes fell on the “CLOSED” sign before diverting to the schedule time.


It was Saturday.

“For fuck’s sake.” He groaned, walking back slowly to his car where he sat quietly for a moment before he perked up in his seat, taking out his phone and opening the Safari app.

‘Royal Opera House Swan Lake auditions 2017.’ He typed, instantly clicking on the first link he saw.

Once he found that the auditions were tomorrow, he nodded determinedly to himself before he drove back home where he sat, making scenarios in his head and watching ballet videos for the rest of the evening.

Harry was restless at night. He was tossing and turning, even hummed to himself to sleep but nothing was happening. It was when his mind drifted to your long conversation at the shop that he found lyrical words flowing in his mind, almost humming a new tune to himself. With a newfound energy, Harry was sat on his desk, his brown leather journal sprawled in front of him as he wrote what was on his mind.


Harry was nervous to say the least. When he entered the opera house and got greeted as someone famous, it was one of the few moments he appreciated his status when he was allowed to be in the room where the Odette auditions were held. He sat in the chair beside the critic and professional choreographer, watching as different women auditioned. Some were good, some made mistakes and some Harry just couldn’t focus on.
It was when he saw you enter in a beige classical tutu, hair in a neat bun and a friendly smile that Harry’s breath hitched, his arm slipping from the arm rest, startling him as he sat up.

Your eyes met his and widened. He only gave you a discreet thumbs up and a grin, watching you smile as you looked down before the music started.
He was charmed. His eyes were fixed on your figure as you danced, putting your everything in it. It was when the critic beside him whispered “Amazing” under his breath that he grinned.
You bowed after you were finished, smiling at the happy judges before catching Harry’s eyes for a moment and walking gracefully out of the stage.

Harry was quick to thank the judges for having him, putting a word in for you.

“I might not be professional but I do know someone passionate about something when I see them. Miss Y/N was wonderful. Good day.”

He asked the stage director about your whereabouts, thanking him when he escorted him towards the dressing room. He knocked, hearing a different woman’s voice tell him to come in. He did.

He found a room full of ballerinas, some in the regular wear and some still in the tutus. “Hi, I’m looking for Y/N?”

They smiled to each other before you walked over to him from the other side of the room with a grin. “What are you doing here?” You asked quietly, holding his arms as you both walked outside again, closing the door behind you.

“What am I doing here…” He trailed. What was he supposed to say? That he couldn’t stop thinking about how much of an idiot he was that he didn’t take your phone number and that he couldn’t stop thinking about you so much that he had written a song about you? “I came to support you?”

You smiled, “I’m letting you off the hook this time.”

“I heard the man who sat beside me, the blond one, say amazing when you were done.” He whispered childishly before pretending to look around as if searching if anyone might have heard him.

Your eyes widened, “No!” You whisper shouted.


You tackled him in a hug, squealing in his shoulder. “Oh my God, I hope I make it.”

Harry hummed in satisfaction, hugging you back. “You were beautiful out there.”

You giggled, pulling back. “As much as I actually like this,” You gestured between you, “But why actually are you here?”

Harry sighed, defeated. “Alright, I wanted your phone number after I realized I forgot to take it. Lou said she doesn’t have your number and that you left, studio was closed and I might have added another song to my solo album.”

“You-You did all that to get my number?”

“Well, I was also hoping for a date?” Harry chuckled nervously.

You grinned, “Remember when I told you about my grandma story and called it cliché?” Harry nodded. “Forget it. This is 10 times more cliché.” You giggled.

“Does that mean you don’t go on a date with me?”

“Of course I will!”

After changing back to your clothes and walking slowly with Harry towards the exit, hands brushing against each other, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“What do you mean you added a new song to your solo album?”


Obviously the “amazing” part by the critic indicates that you got the part because you’re THE shit and owned the stage.
Also, it’s so ironic writing about ballet and all that while I’m finishing a box of pizza by myself. Hope you liked it! x

anonymous asked:

And now i really want to know what happened at the hotel. :)

Oh god, it was a lot of things. 

The first being that for two months, I was the only person working in the kitchen. So I was working seven days a week. Me and my girlfriend were living separately at the time and I could only come to see her downstate when the stars aligned and we both got a day off. 

So we decided that whoever was running front desk would take care of breakfast so I could have a fuckin’ day off and see my fuckin’ girlfriend. 

Every. Gods. Damned. Time. I would drive my ass down to Indianapolis for one day, get a hotel room for us to stay in, and spend the night with my girlfriend. And what does the chick they got sitting in for me do? Calls me at 7am when I’m stark ass naked and lying in bed. 

“Uhhh I’m sick. I shouldn’t be around food.”

“I’m three hours away. Deal with it.”

This went on for months. Like she did not get the message that when I’m off, I am NOT AVAILABLE. 

Then we got a new manager and he was a real stickler for the rules- wanted to make us the BEST hotel in the area. So what does he do? He takes advantage of the fact that Notre Dame is like a mile up the road and says ‘hey- if you’re here for the hockey tournament, why don’t you stay here?’ =D



Do you have any idea how many eggs ‘growing boys’ can eat in two minutes? TWO POUNDS. I would have three bowls of eggs happening at any given time because if I waited the appropriate amount of time to make them we would have A LINE WAITING. And the requests were constant: ‘you’re out of bacon.’ ‘you’re out of bread.’ ‘you’re out of juice, waffle batter, and bananas.’

This was every weekend from February to August. 

And when August started… it was fucking Notre Dame games. 

Then there was the time that a woman made a bomb threat. 

Then we changed managers again and this one wasn’t a stickler for the rules but he did want to make sure the place had not one speck of dust. So he yelled at us for not being perfectly clean after 300 hockey children and their shrill parents left the place a mess and we haven’t had time to clean up because there’s 300 OF THEM. 

Or he WOULD have yelled at us if HE WERE EVER THERE. 

He was scheduled five days a week to come in and be the fucking manager but I only ever saw him maybe once in awhile on a Thursday so he could bitch at me about how the kitchen isn’t spotless. Instead, he would take pictures of the place, send them to the assistant manager, so HE could yell at me. 

And the assistant manager had no idea what was wrong with what I was doing. 

Like he would scroll through the pictures with a wtf on his face like they were supposed to mean anything and then just tell me to ‘do better.’ 

So I put up with that for a few months and then decided it wasn’t worth my energy. I planned to quit, but I was just so sure I wasn’t going to be putting this on any resumes so I decided to get creative. 

On the day I decided to quit, I put this in my manager’s mailbox:

Stuck it in a folder and waited to see if anyone would pick it up. I put it there at 4 in the morning, it was still there at 1 when I left. No one picked it up at all in that entire time. Manager didn’t even come in and it was a Thursday. 

There was no mistaking this as a joke- no one called me about it, no one sent me an email, no one asked about it. I was done. I was done, I was done. 

And that’s the story of how I quit my job via haiku. 

Who benefits?

And who has benefited right from the start?  When we talk about this shit show and are looking for the “masterminds” behind it, it is important to keep this in mind.

I know that some of you think that JA is the one orchestrating this, but you need to remember the whole picture. The big picture.  And also remember that we do not see and know everything that is going on.  

What we do know is that TPTB, like Albrecht, have a history of controlling their talent (Albrecht’s own remarks show that he thinks of them as commodity), using the fandom, and exerting power in questionable ways.  They are looking to make money.  Make more money, and keep the money that they have made.

That isn’t something that people in Sam and Cait’s position can fight.  Not overtly.  They try.  We can see that and they have tried from the start. The mixed messages, the separate interviews, the presence of TPTB at events and interviews where there is really no need for them (TCA2015,Paley costume…..HEAVY hitters there in ALL camps, etc) show exactly how controlled Sam and Cait are.

But, as I said, they try to influence their image in other ways.  Cait mostly stays out of the fray.  I like that she is engaging with the fandom a little more by interacting on Twitter and IG, and going to cons.  People will “get to know” her better.  And that is what she really needed in this fandom.  (don’t even get me started on this….grrrrr).  She is continuing with her charity involvement, keeps a foot in the fashion world, but has opened up and been a little more vulnerable.  This is helping to change what a lot of people were thinking of her.

Things will always be worse/harder for Sam.  We have gone over the reasons a million times but here is a short list……he was marketed to what Starz saw as their target audience.  He was put out there as hunky (duh), beefcake, and eye candy.  Whether is was his natural personality, enthusiasm, or directive, he interacted with the fandom in a way that gave most a sense of ownership and COULD NOT BE SUSTAINED.

When he stopped working with his former publicist (AK) and hired JA things changed.  We saw them expanding his image.  Piaget, charity work, best dressed lists, serious articles about his ambition, Barbour…….all JA.  All designed to show more of who he is and what he wants people to think about him.  Why it looks so bi-polar is that (as I have said many times) there is his PR and Starz PR.  And we only have to look to SDCC2017 to see that Starz PR is still selling the beefcake, single, flirty, attainable hunk.   

The questions put to them in print and filmed interviews are what STARZ wants you to hear, to know, and to believe.  It is marketing and advertising.  All of that benefits Starz first and anyone else second.  

So, when things come out ask yourself, who does this serve?  Who benefits from this?  Sometimes the answer will be SamCait (not just shippery stuff, although of course that is where I put most of it), sometimes it will be Starz and tptb (anything that causes fandom uproar and attacks does NOT benefit anyone BUT them), and sometimes it will be both..

There is a big difference between playing along (matching shirt pap stroll, etc) because it will happen regardless and you can negotiate benefits for your client ( like a BIG part in a movie with BIG names under the same umbrella), and masterminding something that has only contributed negatively to the image of your client.  

Things look heavy handed (Starz) and half assed (JA) because that is exactly what they are.

rebeccaish  asked:

Hey, this is a question I've had for a while, but have never known anyone to ask. All denominations of dollar bills are the same size in America. How does a person who is blind tell them apart from one another? Do they just have to trust the sales clerk, or do they just avoid using bills?

Ah! Speaking of money, lol…

That’s a great question. So when dealing with regular paper bills, most blind people will carry some sort of money identification tool with them, whether an app on a smart phone or this tiny little Device specifically designed to read money, totally free from the Bureau of engraving. Smart phone apps use the camera to identify the bill for you, and the small device from the Bureau of engraving is like a tiny rectangular scanner that knows how to read bills and nothing else. It is very small, and it has a small slip where you insert just the end of a bill and press the little button on the side, and it will say the number of the bill denomination. Both methods are very handy, though I especially prefer the money reader from the Bureau of engraving because it doesn’t require lighting conditions or for the bill to be laid flat on an otherwise blank surface and with the entire bill in view like some apps do, and some apps have difficulty with a bill depending on whether it is seeing the back versus the front or whether it is upside down, where as the money reader can read any end of the bill and you don’t have to know what side it’s on.

Though, it’s also important to organize your bills once you read what is what, so a lot of blind people will use different folding methods for different bill denominations. For instance, in my particular wallet, I leave my ones totally unfolded and stretched out in the long pouch, my fives folded in half “hamburger” style once, my 20s first folded hamburger style like a five and then folded in half again, my tens folded “hot dog” style first and then folded in half again, etc. etc. Everybody does it a little bit differently. Some people will also just use different pouches in their wallet for different bills, depending on the kind of wallet they have and if that method works for them.

But yeah no, I definitely don’t trust the cashier to just give me the right thing. Most people would never try that, but some people do, but rest a sure the blind can check their money.

anonymous asked:

Climb, dearest art role model of mine, might I ask your opinion on line thickness? As of now I tend to use thicker lines when drawing, but I always feel its missing something, mostly because every other artist I know uses thin lines and it looks much better. But I'm so used to drawing with thicker lines, but I also want that same look thin lines give off. What do you recommend?

Currently, i’m an inbetweener. I use both thick and thin lines in my work, so I can’t really say one is better than the other. Using line weight is a great way to give your drawings that extra little *zing* and make them more interesting. My current main brush offers a lot of line variety, so that if I set it at 10px I can get really thick or thin lines depending on what pressure I use (pencil and ink brushes are great for this). The brush i use is also slightly angled too (like a calligraphy brush) so it can give me better variance in strokes. 

So my lines can go from pretty thick to pretty thin easily (this is w a 10px brush)

I usually use thick lines for a characters outline, and thinner lines for small details like fur tufts, muscles etc. Really it’s all about personal preference - don’t be afraid to jump around in your art and try different stuff.

Here’s a comparison between my lines (left) and Hoxau’s (right) line style. She tends to us thinner lineart with a brush that doesn’t have as great of variance, while I tend to use simpler and thicker lines

anonymous asked:

How did Doc feel when he found out that Walter decided to prank the Host by making him trip over a bucket of watermelon smoothie? Was it weird for him to see Host in his old clothes?

Doc goes to check on Host once he finds the mess in his library. Wilford is storming out when he comes in, and he’s startled to find Host in his old clothes, the ones from when he was the Author. Even from where he stands in the door, he can smell the wood smoke on them and the distinct sharpness of pine sap. It makes him think back to the days before the Host lost his eyes, before when they could’ve just been friends rather than a doctor and a patient.

“How are you, Host?” Doc can’t help the sting that comes from thinking about the way that Walter targeted the Host’s disability, using it against him.

But the Host is all gentle smiles and reassuring words, handing him a cup of tea and insisting that he sit and stop worrying. This is one of Host’s ways of avoiding the obvious, the obvious being that he’s hurt again.

“The Host is used to it,” he says simply, and somehow that’s even worse.

Doc shakes his head and sets his tea aside. “You shouldn’t be, and I’m not okay with this.”

Host nods for a moment before turning his face to the Doctor again. “Does it bother the Doctor to see Host in these clothes?”

Doc swallows. It’s always brutal and straight to the point with Host. There’s no such thing as skirting around the truth with him. “Just a little.”

“Because the Doctor feels guilty for what happened to the Author. He feels that he should’ve stopped Dark in time just as Wilford feels.” Host smiles. “The Host can’t help but feeling that the two of you only care about Host out of your own guilt.”

Dr. Iplier’s mouth drops open. “Y-you… That’s not true!”

“Is it not?” Host pushes a plate of cookies closer. “Have a sweet, Doctor. The Host feels you need it.”

Doc realizes that Host is joking, in his own cryptic way and smirks. “You’re truly the evil one, aren’t you?”

Host sits back in his chair and sips his tea. “It’s always the quiet ones that you should look out for.”

Andrew Lincoln with a fan in CR

twdcostarica ||  A very kind young man approached us and told us that he could help us wash the sand with a hose and get us some water and something to spend the night at the beach. Well, to finish when we went with him down a path to where the hose was, Andrew was with his daughter and his wife. All friendly came and asked us how we were and good was the shock that could not even speak, when I catch my breath tell them where we came from and how much we had waited and even what we were going to have to do to spend the night, his kindness And his good heart gave us to get some more water and food to finish removing the sweater they walked and give us each one, mine even with the logo of The Walking Dead … Andrew was reiterative in that he loved CR his people and especially the food. Apart from being the great actor he is, and how handsome he is, he is a person with a great heart and it was the best experience of our lives. ❤️ “  [Google Translate]