nothing too bright

Unpopular opinion: 2016 was actually an incredible year to me, so many cool things happened!! I’ve become independent, I learned and experienced tons of things, I’ve overcome my problems and finally I achieved what I’ve wanted for so long: I am truly happy with who I am as a person! I learned how to be happy and how to stay happy, I learned what’s important and to what extent. I realised that everything is a choice and there are literally no limits!! I finally see that every minute spent on whining and crying under a blanket is a wasted minute!! There’s literally no point in being stuck in one place, life moves forward and so should I!! Every failure is a test of persistence and determination, the key is to never stop looking for solutions!!

tl;dr Bring it on 2017, I’m ready

anonymous asked:

Hey (its me again) can I have some more phase 1 stuff. I noticed tht noodle always had like little matching space suit looking outfits. So maybe like some shopping for her with the boys?? Idek u just always seem to come up with rlly cute creative things but keep it in perfect characterization and I just love ur writing okay. Thanks❤️ -h

(Hello again, sweet anon h, I spend some time researching her outfits, and came to the conclusion that they, obviously, looked very much like some kimono-like Japanese uniforms. Hope this is okay! It was fun writing it. ALSO U SEEM RLY NICE, i wanna know who you are)

They had tried everything by now; begged, ordered, persuaded with candy and ice cream. Nothing helped, and though she was little, she stood her ground and yelled a big “No”, one of the words she’d learnt in English, and a pretty useful one, each time they presented actual clothes to her. Apparently, fashion for 10-year-olds weren’t tasteful to tiny Noodle but in all fairness, none of the band members really liked pink. She had to wear something though and when they rotated the responsibility of getting her dressed and ready each morning, it was the same for each of them. They’d choose a piece of clothing but she’d refuse to wear it unless they’d explained that she’d have to wear that or nothing.

They’d caught her several times looking through their drawers and pull on their long-sleeved shirts. They were way too big for her, almost looking like oversized dresses as she nearly stumbled in them when trying to walk in them. She’d call their names excitedly and then swing around the big sleeves with a grin. None of them ever got mad at her but she got mad when they wouldn’t let her wear them.

“Noodle, you can’t wear that, please take it off,” Murdoc sighed, “I can’t pull it offyou, it wouldn’t seem appropriate.”

“No!” Noodle said defiantly and spun around to make the sleeves flap in the air, “No, nonononoooo!”

“Well, it’s my shirt,” he tried again but she just shouted again, “Fucking hell, wasabi girl, take it off.”

Russel and 2D eyed them from across the room, Noodle having stolen Murdoc’s chosen shirt for the day. Russel smirked, “Seems like you gonna have to give it up.”

“Shut it, it’s the only one I have that’s clean,” Murdoc replied bitterly and began pulling at the sleeve, causing Noodle to yell at him in Japanese.

“Wear one of the dirty ones? Body odor never seemed to bother you,” 2D snorted and Russel started laughing. Murdoc grumbled, eventually giving up when Noodle started screeching.

“Fine, you little shi-,” he was cut off by Russel’s raised brow, “Fine, Russel, you say something to her then!”

“Very well,” Russel walked up to Noodle, crouching down to look at her as she still flapped the oversized sleeves, “Noodle, look at me.”

Reluctantly, she did and Russel cleared his throat, trying his hardest to form a sentence in his head. His Japanese was horrible but he figured that after the hair-trimmer-incident, where Noodle had nearly shaved all her hair off, he’d have to just learn a few words and commands. It took him a moment before he eventually said something close to a sentence, “Noodle, how about we go out to buy clothes and you can choose whatever you want?”

Noodle eyed him suspiciously but eventually nodded with a big grin, “Yes!”


It turned out that even though Noodle got to choose whatever she wanted, she was still picky as hell, dragging her boys from store to store, and looking miffed at every piece of clothing that she passed. She wanted nothing in too bright colours, nothing with patterns of princesses, butterflies or flowers. It was horrid because somehow clothing industries were certain that all girls liked pink and purple with glitter and rainbows.

“We’ve literally tried everything,” 2D groaned, stopping up to light a cigarette and refusing to walk anymore. He sat down on the nearest bench, “When can we go home? My feet are tired.”

Murdoc nodded, sitting down on the opposite side of the bench, “For once I actually agree with Dimwit, dare I say that I want to take my boots off.”

“More like your hooves,” 2D grumbled at the nickname, crossing his arms over his chest and tapping the cigarette.

“Shut up, 2D,” Murdoc said bitterly and Russel sighed deeply, holding Noodle’s hand tighter so she wouldn’t run off.

“You two better get off your asses so we can move on, there’s still loads of shops left and I’m not gonna break my promise to her. She will pick something she likes before we go home. Simply parenting, you know,” Russel lectured, picking Noodle up and let her sit on his shoulders, legs around him, “Are you going to keep on whining or?”


After what seemed like, and probably was, hours, Noodle finally started speaking up and pointing to a tiny shop. It was one of those that you didn’t really notice when walking down the streets and Murdoc held up his arms, “I rarely say this but thank God.”

Russel smiled, trying not to show how badly his feet hurt from walking for hours. He put Noodle down onto the ground again and she happily ran into the small, Japanese-like, shop.

A little bell chimed as they walked in and a little old, Japanese lady looked up from the counter. She smiled widely as soon as she saw Noodle, waving at her and Noodle excitedly looked at all the things. There were lots of colours, making most of them almost dizzy. Daruma Dolls, Lucky Cats, different coloured paper laterns, the smell of matcha tea and several different tea sets and porcelain. What caught Noodle’s attention was neither of those things, instead she steered towards a rack of clothing which only contained what seemed to be Japanese-like, old fashioned kimonos; long jackets with wide sleeves and a tight collar.

“Why didn’t we think of that?” 2D said with a whimper, crossing his legs and examining his poor feet after sitting down on a chair, “It makes sense she’d want something that reminded her of home.”

“This shop is creeping me out,” Murdoc mumbled, looking at the Daruma Dolls, “Hah! This one har your eyes, Faceache!” He picked one up and the lady immediately snapped at him in Japanese, causing him to put it down as he looked completely flustered. Noodle’s eyes widened and she started giggling. The woman walked up to her and spoke softly in Japanese, pointing at the different pieces of clothing.

“Remember Noodle, you can choose whatever you want in here,” Russel reminded her and the woman translated, making Noodle look up at Russel with wide eyes. She walked to hug him close, her head on his stomach.

“Go on then, Noodle, choose something,” 2D encouraged from his seat and the woman slowly translated for them. He finally stood again and walked up to look through the rack with her, “You should definitely model for us, right Russel?”

Noodle looked excited at that and nodded, picking out a red outfit with white sleeves. She showed Russel, who nodded approvingly. It was a long, red jacket with buttons all the way down and it had matching shorts to go with it. Where the breast pocket should’ve been, there was a small white logo of something neither of them knew.

She was lead to a changing room by the owner and soon came out in the outfit and her helmet. She beamed, hands in her sides, and spun around.

“Fuck this, I’m going for a cigarette, anyone got a lighter?” Murdoc said after a little while, looking quite unimpressed and still bitter at the fact that he had been scolded by an old, Japanese lady.


It took surprisingly little time for Noodle to choose several outfits, including a sandy coloured one and a black one. She was happier than ever as she was allowed to leave in the red one, and even Murdoc had to smile at the sight of her. It didn’t last long when the rest of the band presented a Daruma Doll for him, which he didn’t find funny at all. Though especially Noodle found it hilarious.

It became much easier to get on with their mornings after this, and the person being responsible of her getting dressed and ready for the day, started getting their morning tea and toast warm instead of cold.

poppybun  asked:

okay okay what are some fashion hcs you have for these boys?? I personally feel like oikawa, despite being pretty popular and the ""most attractive"" guy at his school, has shit fashion taste like similar to that of teru from mp100

I’m pretty sure I forgot to add in some things into that last fashion hcs ask like what would their favorite outfit be? do they freak out often about what they wear or do they just throw on whatever’s around? Who cares the most about what their appearance and who cares the least??

Yong: Am I doing this because Sen keeps roasting me? Yes.


Tooru is a piece of shit. He steals people’s clothes without realising this. He sorts through his closet like “when did I get this?” when he didn’t get it. It’s probably Iwaizumi’s or Matsukawa’s and he just hasn’t returned it. The only thing he actually remembers buying is shoes and jeans; other than that it’s like he never has to spend money on clothes. Clothes are the thing he’s least worried about, it’s all just about his face anyways.


He doesn’t even wear half of his closet. It’s the same five shirts every time. Obviously he has a washing machine at home so he’s going to use it. But a lot of it is actually just meme shirts that he thought were cool but then never ended up using them because he… uses the same five shirts… every time. Fashion? Don’t ask him about that sort of stuff. 


He does not have any matching socks. Well, he actually does but he never matches them and his trousers always cover them up so what’s the point? He also likes jackets that have ironed/stitched on patches. Apart from that, his closet is relatively… ‘normal’. Just a lot of dark greens and beige. It’s not like he actively keeps up with fashion and what other people are wearing but he’s a bit conscious of what he does wear.


His closet is mostly sports clothes, save for things that his relatives buy him. (Thanks for the socks auntie.) Iwaizumi literally only ever shops at places like Adidas and Nike. Whenever he goes out shopping with his friends, they have to drag him past because he’ll spend over an hour in there. The only thing he really cares about is his shoes; he rarely buys them because he saves up for some nice ones.


He might as well just be wearing a god damn uniform. He dresses smart most of the time and legend has it, once every full moon he wears t shirts. Well, he does have quite a few sneakers but you could describe his fashion as “I was about to be late for church but I look smart enough.” Yahaba’s always worried about his appearance, that much is obvious from his hair, but he’s not worried enough to do too much about it.


His clothing style is relatively tame. There’s not much that’s eccentric in his taste at all. Watari likes bright colours for shirts but he always knows how to match them so he doesn’t stick out too much. He actually mostly just wears shorts of the time as well. There isn’t much to say about him and clothing but he’s always constantly buying socks because they keep disappearing in the wash.


Another ‘normal guy’. There’s nothing particularly spectacular about his closet but he tries… It’s just that he’s too nervous to actually wear anything that isn’t alike to his fashion sense. A lot of his closet is consumed by t-shirts with little slogans but, as I said, it’s just relatively tame with him. 


He’s got somewhat of the sleep studyblr aesthetic around him. This guy doesn’t like to stick out too much so he wears relatively muted colours, nothing too bright or dark. Kunimi has a lot of cozy sweaters and turtle necks that he can hide in when he’s tired. Fashion doesn’t really mean anything to him, functionality means way more. The only thing he cares about is that it’s comfy.


Most of his closet is just jackets and hoodies that all pretty much look the same. He could wear one shade and then just go through all of them over a time period in gradient and you might not even notice that he was changing jackets. Also, like Iwaizumi, he spends a lot on shoes as well. Though, if you were to step on Kyoutani’s shoes, he’d actually be pretty hurt. Yes, he’s one of ‘those’ people.

you said something in the middle of a conversation
and i flinched 
you looked at me oddly 
and asked me what was wrong
what i wanted to say was that i’m so used to people snapping at me over the littlest things
so used to one misspoken phrase causing an explosion 
but instead i smile and shook my head telling you it was nothing
—  because you’re much too bright for the darkness of my past (these-words-i-speak)

Anonymous : can you do a suga x 97 line younger sister aesthetic ? nothing too bright or intense, just comfortable (this blog gives me life lol thank you)

A lazy late morning with coffee and a bit of shopping, and the rest of the day home watching animes

the-miraculous-pryoproy  asked:

I know I'm like 10,000 years late, but... FACE family Headcanons on these, please? ø - eyes ✉ - texting habits ✍ - writing style ✄ - nervous habits

(no worries, it’s fine!! in all honesty the majority of my time is now spent playing stardew valley so i know how you feel)

Rainier Bonnefoy:

Eyes: A dull, dark blue. None of the sparkle that his first player has. Texting habits: Short, often one or two word responses, all in lower case. - Writing style: As in how their writing looks, barely legible, and sometimes you can barely see it in the first place since he writes so lightly. - Nervous habits: Nothing really, but he smokes when he’s stressed.

Allen F. Jones:

Eyes: Copper colored, though they can seem darker in some lighting. - Texting habits: All lower case, very casual, and often uses reaction images instead of words. - Writing style: His handwriting is the midway point between legible and chicken scratch. His words slant a bit, and they look like they’re carved into the paper. Nervous habits: He usually either taps his knee or his foot, or drums his fingers.

James Williams:

Eyes: A dark blue-gray color, similar to Rainier’s. - Texting habits: Slightly more formal than his brother (capitalization, for example), but will still use reaction images. - Writing style: Neat handwriting, but it’s fairly light. His lines always seem to slant down, too. - Nervous habits: Usually just drums his fingers. Nothing too big.

Oliver Kirkland:

Eyes: A bright blue color, sparkles and all. Not really a pink color, though there are specks of copper if you look close enough. - Texting habits: Formal, correct grammar. He uses emojis constantly, unless he’s delivering serious news. - Writing style: Cursive, though sometimes it can get hard to read. His words always slant forward, and he’ll use things like hearts and flowers as the dots on i’s and j’s. - Nervous habits: Bites his nails, but he’s learning to stop. 

grumpykittygoatmomtrash  asked:

Hey this isn't oc related but how do you colour on digital? It looks so pretty and neat! :0 and how do you choose colours? Everyone keeps on saying to me oh just practice or just slap on some colours that you like but surely it's more than that? And when i try to colour it turns out wrong they colours dont seem to look good :/ maybe its because I have shaky hands? I've been really confused and i was hopping you could help even though your not a professional but still :3

well I did made some really old art tutorials of my art progress on my facebook. But they’re super old.

but looking up tutorials and observing how lighting and coloring works in anime and cartoons helps a lot! 

personally, I like to use colors that go well together, and nothing too flashy or bright (I try to avoid using neon colors, because they’re too bright, and very hard to shade) The color wheel kinda helps too (if you ever learn or learned about complimentary colors you’d get where I’m going) Also, choosing from a limited collection of colors help out too. Heck, looking up color palettes on tumblr and doing palette challenges help too.. Here’s some advice I can give.

*Never use black to shade colors. It makes the colors look flat (the only exception I make with this is when I shade very dark greys, because computer monitors vary in brightness, so I shade those areas anyway)

*pen pressure is your friend. It makes lines have more weight and look much nicer. Compare my earliest tablet art with my current art and you’ll see what I mean

*never be afraid to experiment with lighting, colors, and shading. Step out of your comfort zone.

*don’t be afraid to use references. Trust me on this.

*don’t use overly bright/neon colors. The only exception is something with neon or glow sticks. But for normal colors, avoid using neon.

*practice is really important. I’m by no means a professional, but even now I still practice.

*colors change in different light settings.

if you have a good art program like painttool sai or photoshop, layers are your best friend. I’m not sure what else I can help with, but looking up art tutorials on deviantart or tumblr helped me a lot when I really got into digital art.

Remember this post going around about drawing your OCs in dorky 70s attire? Well, since I don’t have any cool OCs, and also because I couldn’t get it out of my head, I drew Geralt instead.

Serious. Artist. 

The baby could not have been more wanted. But when the doctor announces it’s either Kurt’s life or the baby’s, Kurt and Blaine’s perfect world comes crashing down. 
Anon prompted me to write about abortion and this is what came out of it. Trigger warning.  


“Are you okay?" 

Kurt takes a shaky breath because no, no he’s not but he manages to put on a smile that does nothing to convince Blaine. 

"It’s just morning sickness,” he says. “Dad said Mom suffered from it until the end." 

"Can’t the doctor prescribe something?" 

"He has,” Kurt admits. He takes a bite of his dry toast and chews it slowly, to settle his stomach. 

Just morning sickness he tells himself. 

Keep reading

this got a bit long, but listen. tfc fashion style / aesthetics to consider:

  • Foxes in low slung sweats. pick a fox, any fox, now imagine them with sweats hanging low on their hips
    • points if it’s just after they finished working out
  • Renee with an undercut & putting her hair up in a cute little ponytail to show it off
  • Renee wears cute little overalls, I’m convinced
  • Allison with a sleeve of tattoos
    • she loves wearing sleeveless shirts/dresses to show them off
    • Allison 100% has a matching tattoo with Renee, fight me
  • Dan wearing ripped second-hand mom jeans as she embraces her place as fox mom to her team
    • Dan wearing just a sports bra and mom jeans with converse shoes is an A+ look in my book
    • Maybe with a baseball cap and one of Matt’s zip-up sweaters on
  • Matt dying his spiky hair bright colors
    • Once he dyed his hair to match Renee
  • Matt in pastel colors that compliment his skin tone so well.

Keep reading




“This Love” - Shinhwa 

In the August of 2013, Shinhwa released ‘This Love’: a heavy backbeat that hangs in the air with wispy, daydreaming vocals delicately placed upon it. 'This Love' rhythmically builds to a big, energizing chorus, whilst supporting itself on some skillfully placed single piano notes and some unassuming but solid vocal solos from Eric, Minwoo, Andy, Jun Jin, Dongwan and Hyesung, and packed with beautiful, swirling lyrics: 'Like a star that has seen the sun, I revolve around you… Like a bee that has seen a flower petal, I revolve around you… The firelight - the moment I’m trapped in your burning eyes.’ It is a composition meant for the background - it is wonderful, vibrant, enticing - but yet, doesn’t overpower Shinhwa’s centerpiece choreography. 'This Love’ is one of those songs that just had to exist - it isn’t a surprising composition, it all plays out much as you might expect, but it plays out in near perfection. 

The eye-catching, central focus of 'This Love’ is the bold, intriguing, androgynous choreography.. Shinhwa gave good face for their take on Voguing. For anybody unfamiliar with the cultural context, Voguing began in Harlem, New York in the 1960s, in the ballrooms. Not waltzing-evening-gown-male-lead-dancing-with-the-stars ballrooms, though, if that’s what you were thinking. The ballrooms that birthed Voguing were LGBT collectives, mainly made up of people from African-American and Latino communities. If you were a gay or transgender immigrant in '60s America, chances were you were poor, your life was difficult and you didn’t have much to enjoy, much that you felt truly made you happy. Chances were, you didn’t have many places where you could truly be you. Thankfully, in the America we know today, the pressure of LGBT life isn’t as great, but it isn’t non-existent either. Unfortunately, in the South Korea of today, the hardships faced by LGBT people can be intense. Voguing is about letting loose, being fierce - being who you are and feeling full of glamour and confidence because you are you are, not in spite of it. Influenced by the dramatic allure of fashion poses used in Vogue magazine shoots and on runways and by the glamorous Pharaohs and Queens depicted in Ancient Egyptian art, Voguing is intended to look defiant, defined, feminine and bold. To put it into a k-pop context, think male divas and girl group dance covers. 

Shinhwa set out to 'take the strengths of Voguing and change them to fit Shinhwa’. The main adaption that Shinhwa made was taking Voguing from a freestyle, dance battle setting to a sleek and neatly choreographed k-pop music video. Voguing is also more typically performed solo and Shinhwa performed it in a group, with backing dancers. Pretty much every other major aspect of Voguing stayed - Shinhwa went all out and it really payed off. Voguing is a striking and distinctive dance style and is pretty hard to suppress - the natural and elegant androgyny of the movements will always catch the eye and capture the imagination. Shinhwa took the most significant and archetypal movements of Vogue culture and linked them together seamlessly, forming a neat and memorable routine. There are a lot of candidates for the most iconic scene of 'This Love’ - in my eyes though, it can only be the zoom-in at around 1:03. A fantastically imagined group fashion hunch, led by Minwoo, complete with fierce, challenging model facial expressions. The backing dancers also did a wonderful job. They interacted with Shinhwa effortlessly and sometimes even stole the show with their perfect moves - the fact that Shinhwa didn’t mind this happening was what made this so professional. Building an entire routine out of Voguing moves cannot have been an easy feat, but Shinhwa nailed it and created what I believe to be one of the finest male k-pop routines of all time.

Over the course of promotions, Shinhwa kept it simple, chic and mature in nicely tailored, monochrome suits in various decadent textures, like fine cotton and silk. They worked prints, but nothing too bright or popping: camouflage; paisley; patchworks of grays, blacks and creams. Shinhwa are one of the longest running k-idol groups and this was reflected well for this concept. Sophisticated pieces like collared shirts, blazers, waistcoats and ties made up the bulk of the wardrobe for 'This Love’. The sheer quality and sumptuous fabric of these pieces kept them from looking like old men. Accessories like belts of metallic leather and chains; jet black, glossy ankle boots and stacked bracelets brought vibrancy, style and relevance. The subtlety of them, however, kept Shinhwa from looking like teenage boys.

'This Love’ was a perfectly pitched concept, from every angle. Shinhwa are a vintage k-pop group. The biggest stars of today grew up with Shinhwa, and the most interesting thing about their career is the way it has changed with not only the Korean entertainment industry, but Korean society itself. Shinhwa have been growing and developing their aesthetic, their music and their public face since 1998. Retro realness, indeed. 

Harry Styles Imagine: Teen Choice Awards

“How are you feeling?” He said while looking into your eyes to read your thoughts. You’ve been quieter than usual, which worried him to no end.

“I’m okay…A little anxious, I’m not gonna lie.” You smile at Harry, who’s been extra attentive this day. 

“Don’t worry about it too much, it’s going to be okay.”

“Yea, I’ll just try to get through it.” You say apologetically, for no reason. 

“I’ll be by your side, the whole time. I have you.”

Harry leans down to kiss your cheek. He would have kissed you on your lips, but he didn’t wanna get lipgloss on himself. 

“Well, we’re here now…” You say noticing the start of the red carpet.

“C’mon, let’s go.” Harry grabs your hand as the car door opens.

(Two days ago….)

“Hey baby, I’m home.” You hear Harry call out from the front door as you sat in your office at home. You guys were staying in New York for a couple of weeks. You were able to do work from practically anywhere in the world, since you worked mostly online. 

“Hi babe!” You go up to him to greet him with a hug and a kiss. “How was the meeting?”

“It went well–but there are some things we gotta talk about.”

“Oh–this doesn’t sound too well. I’m scared.” You laugh trying to hide your worries. 

Harry smiles and says, “No, don’t worry it’s nothing too bad. I guess I should have phrased that better. But the thing is…the public kind of knows about us.”

“What?! Since when?” 

“Well, remember when we were in St. Barts two months ago?”

“Yes, I remember.”

“So apparently, a worker from the hotel took a photo of us and sold it to the press. They’re going to release the article tomorrow.”

“Oh my god…” 

“No, love, listen. I don’t want you to worry, I saw the picture. My manager got a hold of a copy of it, and your face is barely visible.”

“What does this mean, Harry?” You started to get really anxious and nervous about this all.. 

You guys wouldn’t be able to be seen in public, your relationship would be ripped to shreds by the fans, and the press. You’d seen how they’ve nearly ruined Harry’s love life in the past and no doubt it would happen to you, too. 

“We have to reveal that we’re together..”

“Oh no..” You were nearly in tears. Harry noticed your eyes start to get watery and he went over to hug you. 

“Love, please don’t cry. It’s going to be okay.”

As soon as Harry said that, you couldn’t help but burst into tears. 

“But–but…everything is going to change. An–and we won’t—we won’t be able to keep our thing private and you and us….” You tried to explain your thoughts, but you weren’t making any sense.

Privacy was something that you valued in your relationship with Harry. His public image was very much recognized and well-known but his private life, you, were the only thing he got to keep to himself. So you were sad to be losing that, for him to lose that. 

“Don’t worry about me, we’re gonna get through this, love. Please, this is just another obstacle but I know we’re strong enough to make it through. Okay? Please don’t be sad, it makes me feel terrible to see you like this.” Harry tried to comfort you, while wiping your tears away with his thumb and kissing your forehead. “It’s going to be okay.” He kept reassuring you.

“I believe you, baby. I think.. we can do this.” You tried to find console for him, but you knew it would be hard. “What do we do next?”

“Well, I was advised to take you as my date to the Teen Choice Awards and walk the red carpet to make it official.”

“Why? Were you planning on taking someone else?” You joked trying to make a light of the situation. 

“There’s my girl.” Harry chuckled. This is what he loved most about you. Even when things got tough, you managed to pull through with your sense of humor.

(Present time…)

As you two sat on the car, you looked at your outfit wondering if you made the right decision to wear it. You were wearing a monochrome top with a pencil skirt that went down to your knees. For shoes, you went with your platform black and white heels. You kept your hair and makeup simple with just a braid that went from your side to the back and tied at the side for a subtle half up/half down look. And for the makeup you did a neutral eye look, nothing too bright or intense. You had done your own hair and makeup as you wanted to look as much like you as you possibly could, but Lou Teasdale did help you a little bit with the hair. 

“You look beautiful.” Harry says, as if reading your mind. His approval was all you needed. 

“Thank you, babe. You don’t look so bad yourself.” You say while shifting his hat a little bit. Harry had been wearing more hats lately, which made him look so handsome. 

“They’re going to love you.” Harry says, reassuring you that this was the right decision.

“How are you so sure?” 

“Because, I love you.” 

And all your nerves were replaced with butterflies. Having Harry by your side and being with him was way better than anything else in the world. And no matter what happens next, you were sure that you will always have each other. 

anonymous asked:

What type of clothes do the brothers like on a girl? (This includes Mukami's and Kino :3)

Shu- Anything comfy. Nothing too sparkly or bright, or gaudy.. Like sweat pants and a t shirt…. or just her underwear, hehe…

Reiji- A dress, preferably a solid colour pale one. If you mean something more… these times, I guess a simple shirt and jeans. 

Ayato- Nothing, or short shorts with a tang top or half shirt. Or just shorts, a shirt and one of my jackets. 

Laito- Mmm, anything really, but I especially love leggings ~ 

Kanato- Lolita dresses that compliment her skin colour.. 

Subaru- Jeans, a shirt, hoodie or something… I like when they wear my clothes sometimes too…

Ruki- I agree with Reiji’s suggestion, but I prefer skirts over jeans. Something modest. 

Kou- Oh~! I’d like her to wear bright colours and dresses and skirts and leggings and hoodies and cute things! Not sweat pants or baggy clothes, but things that fit her nice and tight so I can see M. Neko-chan’s curves~!

Yuma- Whatever she’s comfortable in, probably jeans and a tangtop if she’d out working with me though. Nothing really girly like Kou would want.

Azusa- Oh…. I would.. like her to wear… fluffy sweaters and… sweat pants… so she’s comfortable…. and… maybe bows… or something… a bit girly..

Kino- Preferably a dress of some sorts, doesn’t matter with me what she likes as long as she’s presentable.

A “Timeline Where Josh Doesn’t Die And Him And Sam End Up Together” Oneshot. 

This idea has been kicked between my friend Luna and I for a hot minute, and while I think this one will stay a oneshot, I might write something based off of the same timeline soon?

“Sam! Sammy!”

Everything is dark; it seeps into Sam’s lungs, chokes her breath in her throat. Her eyes are lights in the nothing, too bright, too wide. They lock with his, trap him to her.

“I’m right here, baby, I’m right here.” The walls that rise up above Josh’s head are cold grey and swathed in frost. Sam tries to focus on the crease in his brow, the way his lips curl up around his gums; tries to tell him she loves him, that it’s going to be okay, but she can’t make her lips say the words.

He shakes her shoulders with shakier hands, but she’s unresponsive; her head snaps back and forth on her shoulders, her bangs get stuck in the blood caked on her forehead. She tries to move, tries to curl into his body heat, but her muscles hang like stuck gears. Her mouth hurts, her stomach aches and convulses, hungry, hungry–


Now, when he says her name, dingy yellow light chases away the darkness. Sam can hear his breathing, smell his soap, feel his fingers at the nape of her neck. Taking a deep breath, she relaxes into his shoulder as he rocks them back and forth, allowing herself a moment of selfish relief that he’s here, they’re safe, they’re home. His voice is in her ear, sweet and fine as sanding sugar. “It isn’t real. It has no control over you.”

“Josh,” she says with a voice thin and brittle as a bird’s bones. Taking another breath, she looks up at him from her place in his lap. He’s so warm, so safe, so stable; late morning light comes through their blinds, stripes his face gold. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He laughs, leans forward and brushes his nose against hers. “Frankly, my dear–”

“Ah,” She cuts him off, but smiles nonetheless. Euphoria lights her up from the inside out. “Shut up.”

They sit like that for a moment, with Josh’s fingers rubbing circles into her back and Sam with her chin on his shoulder, staring through the slits in their blinds and down at the street below. Curled up with him like this, propped up against the pillows in their queen sized bed, Sam feels fulfilled.

“What time is it?” She asks after a while, raising her head to ward off the sleepy happiness filling up her belly.

“Uuuum,” He braces his hand harder against the small of her back, cradling her as he leans to grab his phone off of their bedside table. “Almost 10:45. Plenty of time left to spend the day in bed.”

She sighs. “We both have work to do.”

“Do we have to right now?”

“Yes,” she reasoned, trying to raise herself up off of his thighs. “There is no rest for the wicked.”

Josh’s hands slide down to her hips and tighten there, and he raises his head to catch her eye. “I don’t… want to let go of you just yet. Give me ten more minutes.”

She hesitates, staring down at Josh until he whispers out a quiet “Please?”

“…Fine.” She sits back on his knees, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Fine, just ten more minutes.”

Sam stands on her toes, bringing two coffee mugs and an orange bottle of pills down from their cabinet. She sets both mugs next to each other, and out of habit she shakes two pills out into her palms and sets them on the counter next to Josh’s mug.

She leans back against the counter and crosses her arms, clad only in one of Josh’s oversized hoodies and a messy, sideways bun at the top of her head. Their studio apartment was perfect, to her. The walls were tall and sloped together at the ceiling, the windows long and single paned, perfect for propping open on warm, breezy summer nights. On the walls were a spattering of bright-eyed succulents, yellowing pictures of old friends and collectible movie posters. They had a cupboard full of coffee mugs and the blue and green backsplash she had always wanted.

It was home: a happy, safe place for both of them to retreat to. And that was all she had ever wanted.

Strong hands reach behind her and grab hers, snapping her out of her pensive musing. With a gentle tug, he pulls her fully onto her feet, swings their hands together between them. “Don’t make coffee.”

She quirks an eyebrow at him, presses her lips together in a smile. “And why not?”

“I’ve got big plans,” he explains, spinning her around and nudging her back towards their bed. “I’m takin’ my honey out to breakfast.”

She doesn’t let herself think about the money, or the fact that they both need to bust ass today. Even if just for a little while, she is so, so happy to be swept up by Josh and his cartoony antics. “What’s the special occasion?”

Sam thinks his smile might crack his face in two. “Because you should be kissed, and often, by someone who knows how.”

She swats at him, turning her face away because even as a kid, the blushing red in her cheeks just made her skin look grubby. “Oh my god, Josh–”

“What?” He laughs back, using his lingering hold on her wrist to whirl her back towards him, chest against chest. “Swoon, I’ll catch you.”

She leans her chin on his chest and Josh dips down to press a kiss to her temple. Hollow circles haunt just under his eyes, yellow and purple in the florescents, and suddenly she sees the boy she fell in love with five years ago. Suddenly, she understands: she wasn’t the only one who hadn’t slept well the night before. Worry skitters down her spine like a chill, and she squeezes his hand.

“Take your meds,” she reasons, quieter now, “And I’ll let you take me wherever you want.”

Millmount Coffee is crowded, but full of white light and easy background noise. Josh melts right into the environment, chattering effortlessly to the barista and firing off their order of a “medium caramel steamer with soy milk – and just a black coffee for me, please.” He fits into the role of social butterfly so well, in fact, that the embarrassment doesn’t show on his face when he runs out of cash, and has to pay the last three dollars of their order in quarters and dimes.

Sam is constantly fretting over money, and Josh is constantly peeved about it. “Don’t say it,” he grunts as they sit down across from each other.

Their usual table is a lopsided two-seater by the front of the shop, tucked away from traffic but also close enough to the doors to leave without having to crowd-weave. Sam sinks into the seat, takes out her notebook, a pen, and arranges her half of the table perfectly – all before meeting Josh’s eye. This was the perfect time.

“Josh, I worry.”

“That much is obvious.”

“We just don’t – don’t make a lot of money, and what if…” She doesn’t know how to say it. When she looks up from her coffee, Josh has his laptop on the table, his fingers hovering above the keys. He’s waiting for her to finish, but she can’t find the words.

He fills in the gaps for her. “And being a waiter isn’t making ends meet.”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying!” She immediately jumps to his defense. “You’re working really hard, Josh, I know you are–”

He taps his fingernails on the space key, staring somewhere over her shoulder. “I’m… almost done, with the screenplay, once it’s done, some asshole producer out there will eat the shit out of it, and we’ll be rolling in dough.”

“I know.” She stares at him, hard, until he finally makes eye contact with her again. “I’m not saying you aren’t doing enough, because you are. We both are.”

“Then what’s up, Sammy?”

“I’m not making enough at my job, either. Paid interns don’t make nearly enough. We’re both living our dreams, and we have this wonderful apartment, but no food to put in the fridge.” She worries her fingers along the edge of her notebook.

His larger hand dusts over hers. “How are things going with the mountain?”

A change of subject, but one that could be addressed either way. “Terrible,” she admits. “Do you know how hard it is to convince a privileged white politician to block off an entire mountain?”

“Yeah,” he snorted. “Yeah, my dad had the same reaction, remember?”

“I really thought the whole “historic site” route was going somewhere,” she sighed, shaking her head and tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

“About as nowhere as a screenplay about Wendigos on the same mountain, I guess.”

A scoff, a glance to her boyfriend, and then the both of them collapsed into raw, thoughtless laughter. Josh rises up in his seat, leans over his laptop and both of their drinks, steals a quick, impulsive kiss from her.

We could be out on the street, she thinks, and I’d still be happy with him.

Wal-Mart is the closest, the most surveilled and always, always the most anonymous.

It’s just shy of midnight when ‘Sunshine’ and One get to the giant store in the middle of nothing else, and One cases the joint like he’s robbing a bank. He’s not obvious about it, but 'Sunshine’ knows what the kid is doing because he does it himself, any time he goes anywhere and especially when he’s in a big place like this. 'Sunshine’s’ civvies are black jeans, a black shirt and a beat up coat like any one of a million other veterans, a glove over his metal hand and even that shoved into his pocket. One holds his right hand like he owns it, like they’ve always walked this way, and 'Sunshine’ wonders at the comfort he takes in the cool, clammy little hand and the anemia he knows is behind that coolness.

One only lets 'Sunshine’ go when they get the cart, and 'Sunshine’ doesn’t even question being on cart duty, One would get it himself except he’s too goddamn short to see over the fucking thing so he can’t. He leads, though, he takes point at the end of the cart and gives little tugs to steer exactly where he wants to go, head tilted back to raise his sightline and take it as far as it will go.

“They ever get you glasses?” 'Sunshine’ mutters.

“Once. Broke em. Threatened me with laser surgery,” One says, his smile tight. “Learned to see around it.”

'Sunshine’ grinds his teeth a little, says nothing.

Boys department is easy enough. He holds up a set to himself, scans the size, rolls his eyes a little as he does the calculations. He gets two pairs of jeans for himself and four more doubles, progressively smaller. A dozen or more black t-shirts in little packs, no logos. Overshirts in muted plaid, testing the fabric between his fingers for warmth. Hoodies, still no logos, nothing to identify anybody, nothing to make anyone distinct. Varying colors. The jeans match, the undershirts, nothing else. The plaids don’t even match the hoodies, it looks organic rather than organized.

He scuffs his sneaker against the floor. Clicks his tongue a little. Muttering to himself, 'Sunshine’ figures. Talking to siblings who aren’t there.

The girls’ department is next, and One doesn’t pause at the edge of it. Shows no hesitation, nothing but cool analysis as he scans the rows of color, of princesses, puppies, stars, hearts and glitter.

For Twooie, his choices are girl versions of the boys’ outfits. He pauses for approximately six seconds before he picks out a hoodie for her: reversible fleece, a more teal-tinted light blue that flips to bright purple. Her jeans are the same shade as his, but he makes sure to get some with just a hint of a flare, ribbon at the cuffs but not sequins. No lace. He holds his breath when he gets her a sweater and a sweatshirt instead of a plaid overshirt, leopard print and camo, both in colors that are feminine, sometimes pastel and sometimes bold but not neon, nothing too bright.

“She don’t like it, I’ll fuckin’ trade with her,” he mutters. “I don’t give a shit.”

'Sunshine’ doesn’t doubt it.

Four’s motif is stars, and 'Sunshine’ wonders for a minute before he figures a fella with sisters knows more about girls than one without and lets it go. Seems like the color doesn’t matter, but stars on everything, stars, gems, sequins and things that fly. He seems perfectly confident here, too.

And then he gets to the babies’ section and completely freezes.

“What’s the matter?” 'Sunshine’ asks.

“I just-” He shakes his head. “Fuck, I don’t know.”

“You’re using that word a lot,” 'Sunshine’ observes. “You realize the impact lessens the more you use it.”

“Look, I just-” He scrubs his hand through his hair. “I don’t want to pick for Eight. Eight ain’t said nothing yet.”

'Sunshine’ squints, mystified.

“Hell,” One says, and Eight’s outfits are a mix, half girl clothes, half boy clothes, pink and black and plaid and glittery, so it would look like a hailstorm of hand-me-downs if everything weren’t new.

“Pajamas?” 'Sunshine’ asks. “Socks? Sneakers? Underwear?”

One draws in a deep, slow breath, rolling his eyes back and counting down from ten. He ends up with pajamas and socks, yes, but he’s apparently decided shoes will have to wait, the ones they have will have to work for the time being.

“Ain’t that an extra set?”

“What, these?” One is folding the clothes like he’s done laundry all his life. The hangers are all on the side of the cart. “They’re for me. It’s funny and they’re fucking pajamas, I don’t care.”

'Sunshine’ squints at the pajama top. Don’t go bacon my heart. He snorts.

“S'a fucking pun,” he mutters.

“You ever met a goddamn kid who didn’t like puns?” One asks him, frosty as ever.

'Sunshine’ shrugs. “Don’t remember.”

“Don't exist,” One says. Baseball-themed pajamas for all the other boys. Extra underwear for Five and Six. Trainers for Seven and diapers for Eight.

“Food’s on you,” One says, eyeballing the cart before climbing on the end. “I don’t know shit about provisions, and you seem to know what we can’t eat. Impress me.”

'Sunshine’ grunts, aims for the grocery section.

“And tell me about Steve,” One says, quieter, eyes fixed on his face. “Now that I ain’t busy.”