oh god there are too many hats

I’m such a lazy knitter. 

“Oh man the stich count is off. *m1 randomly in middle of row* EVERYTHING IS BACK TO NORMAL!”

“UGH I was supposed to yo here on the last row. *stretches out a ladder from the previous row* Yeah that works.”

*reading pattern* Make a swatch to determine your gauge.. lol yeah ok.”

And the two that come with it. 

“Oh man this hat is gonna be way too big. Maybe I’ll make a large headed friend one day. *finishes hat*

“Oh man this hat is way too small. Maybe I’ll make a baby friend one day. *finishes hat*

“This scarf is boring. I don’t want to do this anymore. This was a horrible idea. *casts off and joins two ends together* You’re a cowl now.”

“Ugh all of my size 8′s are being used and I don’t want to finish them right now. ….But what if I used a size 9 and just knit really tight. *casts on yet another project*”

“Oh fuck I added an extra repeat and now I’m gonna run out early. Maybe I’ll buy another skein. Man this yarn is more expensive than I remember.*casts off whenever fuck it lol*

“I’ve got so many more hats than I will ever wear I should open a store. *switches to knitting scarves instead* I have too many scarves I should open a store. *switches to knitting shawls instead* “

“Why is my count off? Shit there’s a serious mistake five rows back. God this looks awful. OH MY GOD ITS A DROPPED STITCH. IN A LACE SHAWL. *grabs crochet hook and randomly weaves the dropped stitch in* *counts* Well the stitch count is correct now so… “ 

‘Falling’ in Love

Originally posted by ethan-support-group

Request: Hi hi. I’ve read your “x reader” stories and I love them 💖  I was wondering if you would do an Ethan x reader imagine where y/n is a fan of Ethan and meets him at a convention and its like a love at first sight kind of thing?

Summary: Fem!Reader is at a con for the first time and quite literally falls  in love :D ……..ok I’ll see myself out

You can find part two here

A/N: Hey y’all this is a cute fic full of nervous!Ethan so if that’s the kinda thing you’re into then you’re in luck. For real though, once I started writing this I couldnt stop, I don’t know why but I was bit by the inspiration bug and cranked this bad boi out. Also, anything in italics is a personal thought in first person that either the reader or Ethan is having. Enjoy!

Wordcount: 853, goldilocks zone :D

Warning: I cursed a couple times? Maybe just once? Can’t remember. Also nervous!Ethan is adorable? Read at your own risk he too cute.

Requests are open! Send some in pls I have one left in my inbox so pls!
r e q u e s t s o m e t h i n g

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Fanart Monday!

I’m back on cool leg….. I don’t want tooooooo but I have no choice :C

Anyhow, at least now I’ll have a consistent schedule xD


I have some fanarts to show ♥ They’re all lovely!! Thanks a lot for sending! Let’s get to them :3


Fanart of the week by @gigagoku30!! Lovely fanart of Frisk with the tutu <3 [And Flowey :P ]


More under the sexy cut! ;)

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paleesky  asked:

HEYYO SUNSHINE! So, IT HAS BEEN WAY TOO LONG FIRSTLY OKAY NEXT. I love love LOOOVE meet the Robinsons. It's such a good movie yeah? And sooo I was thinking what would happen if the voltron family watched it.. Would tissues be a must? would it be the first time? Would they have blankets and different snacks for each person? Would they watch it in their huge living rooom???? Hmm sunshine?? Hmm?? Okaaay that's all! Love you.... Stay hydrated and you better be resting your back when you can 💛💞

[The Voltron Family] During dinner, little Lance mentioned that “Meet The Robinsons” was the Disney Channel movie for the night on TV. So the family agreed to watching it together before going to bed. 

The kids raced to the second floor living room where they would watch. Lance was winning while Pidge was trying to run as fast as her brothers.

“Be careful, honey!” Shiro called out to Pidge as he gathered the plates.

“Let’s go, Daddies! It’s going to start soon!” Lance shouted. 

“We should just wash the dishes later,” Keith smiled, taking Shiro’s hand to drag him to the stairs. He took a box of tissues along the way. “Just in case. You know how that movie ended.”

Shiro shook his head. “Actually, I haven’t watched the movie at all.”

“Oh god,” Keith giggled. “You’re in it for a wild ride,” he added as he grabbed another box of tissues which Shiro pouted at. “I know how much you cry, babe. You need one box just for your tears.”

The movie started and the kids were in the middle while Shiro and Keith were at the opposite ends. 

Keith noticed how much the kids tried to stop their tears when Lewis mentioned that he had 124 adoption interviews and every time he got rejected. So he slowly slid the box to Hunk who got a tissue silently and passed it around. Keith looked over at Shiro and his box was already opened and he had a crumpled tissue on his hand. 

“Why are they not adopting him?” Shiro muttered, looking so heartbroken. 

Keith smiled and then returned his attention on the TV. The kids laughed when Wilbur, the kid from the future, arrived. 

“He looks so silly. Fruithead,” Pidge laughed, pointing at Lewis who had a hat full of fruits. “I want one, Daddy Shiro!” They laughed too many times when the funny scenes came on.

“Oh my gosh!” Lance gasped at the reveal. “He’s his Daddy!! I knew it!!”

“No, you didn’t.” Pidge rolled her eyes. 

More crying were heard when Lewis and Wilbur went back in time to see Lewis’ mother. And then Lance and Shiro cried even more when Lewis didn’t tap his mother, he just let his mom leave him by the door of the orphanage despite his goal of making her not leave him.

“Oh god,” Shiro let out. “He was the one who knocked on that door relentlessly in the end. What a beautiful plot twist.” He smiled as tears fell down his face then he grabbed a tissue to wipe them.

Crying turned into gross sobbing and even Keith couldn’t help himself but cry along when Lewis finally got adopted by the family he’d spent his time with in the future. It didn’t help either that the background music was beautiful when Lewis and his new Mom and Dad showed him his work space that would soon be filled with his inventions.

“Keith, you’re crying,” Shiro laughed.

“Say that to me when you’re not a sobbing mess,” Keith said, offended.

“I’m not even hiding my tears! I’ve been crying the whole time!”

“I am aware,” Keith rolled his eyes fondly, grabbing a tissue and throwing it at his husband who just laughed even harder.

When the movie was done, the kids all went to bed. Keith was in charge of Hunk while Shiro brought a crying Pidge and Lance to their rooms.

“You’ve been awfully quiet the entire movie, sweetheart,” Keith said softly as he tucked in Hunk. “Didn’t you like the movie?”

Hunk shook his head quickly. “No, no, I loved it. It’s just…”

“What is it?” Keith asked as he sat on the bed. 

The little boy closed his eyes and said, “I’ve had 30 adoption interviews and…” Hunk didn’t finished as he began crying.

Keith frowned as he hugged his son.

“I thought I wasn’t gonna get adopted because of the colour of my skin,” Hunk cried on. “No one wants a brown kid.”

“Hey, your skin is beautiful, Hunk. Don’t you ever think so otherwise.”

Keith felt Hunk’s tears fall on his arm, but his boy continued, “Thirty is a huge number and I’m really sad Lewis had 124 but he got the best family in the end. I’m glad you and Daddy Shiro adopted us. That orphans like me, Lance and Pidge get another chance of having a family.” Hunk smiled.

“I’m happy too, baby,” Keith kissed Hunk’s head, hugging him tighter. 

“Daddy, would you have adopted Lewis?” Hunk asked hopefully.

“In a heartbeat,” Keith answered. “Would’ve signed the papers immediately.”

he brought one set of clothes and all of his replacement hats

A Train to the North

Originally posted by lawlliets

For my wife @lovesehunright as she deserves some Sehun (ex-) royalty AU because she’s an absolute angel and it’s her birthday!! I love you so much, and I’m so so glad that I decided to message you after seeing that post where you were looking for people to collaborate with way back then because it led to this amazing friendship. ♥♥♥ So, again, love you lots babe and hope you enjoy my bday gift for you— even tho it’s just too late ;; ♥♥♥


♕ Princess!Reader x Peasant!Sehun

in a runaway journey; a train heading north and onboard: two amorous lovers that want nothing else but to be together.


You awoke to the shaking of a wagon and the melody of a husky voice singing. Eyes fluttering open, you lifted your head out of the uncomfortable position on your own shoulder, lifting your eyes over the carpeted floor of the train, following the golden accents along the floor over to the dark wooden wall and the closed door of your cabin and finally over to the owner of the deep voice on your other side. He was staring at you with soft, brown eyes, a small smile and his ruffled, black hair looked as if it was pushed and pushed back but still stubbornly wanted to hang down in front of his face. 

There was still some ash staining his pale face, and his black, ragged clothes and cap were not being any more helpful. He was poor. But he didn’t care, and as weird as it may have sounded for a spoiled princess; you didn’t either. Call it stupid, irresponsible and ungratefulcall it whatever, but there was no stopping the young princess in falling in love with the blacksmith’s son, and there was absolutely no stopping the blacksmith’s son in taking her far, far away once he picked up on it.

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FIC: Infodere Ch 2

This story was formerly know as Lost Treasure of the Zapotec but I hated that title so in the thousand years that have elapsed since chapter 1, I have changed it. Hope no one minds.

Hope you enjoy this one and chapter 1 can be found here for those that haven’t read it 



Her back arched at the sensation. Hair like fire tickled her thighs. She gasped as strong hands grasped her under her hips lifting her towards his mouth, her breath coming in gasps. His tongue worked gently but persistently and she could feel the muscles of her stomach and thighs tighten as her climax built. One of his hand reached up and caressed her breast and she brought a hand down and ran it through the red hair.

A loud crash jerked Claire awake. She blinked dazed and struggled to sit up. She was breathing heavily, sheened in sweat which wasn’t entirely to do with the tropical heat. She looked around as she realized where she was and who exactly the red hair and wandering hands belonged to. She blushed further when she realized that all that separated her from the man in her dream was two thin walls of canvas and six inches of grass between the tents. Pulling herself together she grabbed a pair of sweatpants and dragged them on, as she headed out to investigate the commotion.

Running across the clearing to where a crowd had begun to gather, she pushed her way to the front. One of the equipment trailers, which had arrived with the last of the convoy at dusk and had therefore not yet been unloaded had been forced open and some of its contents were flung about. Only the top layer seemed to be disturbed however.

“Wi’ the racket they were making, they’d no have any time to really find whatever it is they were looking for. What’s in this trailer, Sassenach?” Jamie turned to her in question and it took her a moment to realise he meant her.

“Oh, erm, this one..” She shone a torch into the trailer “Reference materials mostly. Dr Moreno’s stuff from the university.” She was referring to the cultural anthropologist from the National Autonomous University of Mexico, who along with Jamie, Claire and a physical anthropologist, Dr Zapote, made up the senior team overseeing the dig.

“Maybe they thought there was something else in her?” She wondered out loud. Jamie made a Mmmmph noise in the back of his throat and Claire fought the urge to laugh at such a thoroughly Scottish sound here in the middle of the Mexican rain forest, surrounded by the remains of another, very different culture.

“Well, we’ll lock this up the best we can and I’ll maybe talk to the camp manager in the morning about having some extra security here at night.”

Claire made her way back to her tent and laid there in the dark listening to the sounds of the camp. She heard Jamie come back to his own tent sometime later. She could him him rustling around as he undressed and her stomach flipped slightly.

“Damn it, Beauchamp” she murmured into the dark turning on her side

Breakfast had been eaten and after several hours of frantic activity which involved the arrival of the archeology students from the local university who would along with a group of interns do the majority of the actual digging and cataloguing, and Dr Zapote the physical anthropologist they gathered for a site briefing before the dig began in earnest.

“Okay,” Claire’s voice was clear and rang out across the clearing. Jamie leaned against a trailer drinking coffee and watching her. “We need to lay out some very strict rules for this dig. This is an area of immense cultural significance to the indigenous community. We have been invited here. Very strict protocols must be observed when it comes to the excavations. First up, nothing bigger than the palm of your hand comes out of the ground without running it by Dr Moreno or one of his team. They will decide if it needs special handling or if it is not appropriate for it to be handled by someone outside the Zapotec community. You photograph, document and only when you have permission do you bring it out of the ground. “ Claire looked around the assembled group, catching eyes and trying to impress the importance of her words. “This goes double if you find human remains. We have no idea what this area was used for. As a result in the case of any bones, photograph, document and haul ass to Dr Zapote, here. He and his team will make all decisions about how these finds should be treated. There are to be no exceptions to this. This might make this dig slower than some that you might have worked on, but ethics are important in archaeology, as is the understanding that we show respect to the past.”

She continued, introducing the various team leaders, outlining protocols and assigning teams. She was lovely, but there was something slightly ferocious about her, something wild and untamed. She fascinated Jamie more than any other woman he had ever met. It wasn’t just her intellect, formidable though it was. As an academic her knew any number of intensely gifted women, his last girlfriend, Geneva had been a highly published sociologist, but Claire was different. His reaction to her at first meeting had caught him off kilter.

“Dr Fraser?” He started as he realised she was looking at him along with 65 archaeologists, 8 technicians, 4 physical anthropologists and cultural anthropologist. He shook his head.

“Sorry, could you just repeat that, Dr Beauchamp?”

Claire rolled her eyes a little but she was smiling.

“I said, would you like to explain our documentation and classification process?”

“Oh aye, sorry.” He stepped forward then, explaining the paperwork that should be completed for the different artefacts and how they should be then packed for shipping to the museum in Mexico City.

By the end of the week the first trench had been dug and a significant number of small items recovered. So far they had found the usual expected items, pottery, household items and a smattering of jewellery, but they boded well for more significant finds to come. The camp sat scattered across the clearing in sociable groups, chatter in Spanish, Portuguese and English drifting through the air. Jamie sat down next to Claire on ground close to their tents. He held out a bottle of beer to her and she took it with a nod of thanks.

“You happy with the finds?” he asked?

Claire nodded as she took a swig of beer.

“I think so. There was definitely something here beyond just the pyramid, but what we’ve found so far don’t really tell us much more than that. I’m hoping the second trench will give us some structures, or at least some slightly more quantifiable artefacts. We only have a limited permit to dig here and without some significant finds it will be hard to justify our presence. There are plenty who don’t want excavations here. Its why the protocols matter so much.”

“Aye, and then there’s the legends?” Claire laughed slightly at this and chinked her bottle against his.

“The great lost treasures. Ha. Those stories are just that. If anyone seriously believed those stories someone would have dug here long before now, permits or not. There were plenty of people with less scruples about desecrating indigenous sites in the past. Our knowledge of the past is practically founded on it.” Her voice was wry and she pulled a slight face at this.

“True” He replied, slowly. “And there still are.” Claire followed his gaze towards the trailer that had been broken open a week earlier.

“You can’t seriously think…?” she practically stuttered in her incredulity. “That people might actually think…? That we ‘know’ something? Oh God that is too ridiculous, we are a serious fieldwork team not Indiana Jones style treasure hunters. God…”

“Aye, Sassenach.” was his measured response. “We ken that, but there might be others that don’t. Most people dinna realise that 90% of archaeology is digging up wee bit of pottery and trying to glue them back together. How many times have ye been asked if you’re like Lara Croft?” Claire threw her head back and laughed at this statement.

“Honestly, more than once. And I bet you get the Indiana Jones thing all the time don’t you?” She was grinning at him now. “Especially in that hat.” She nudged him cheekily in the ribs and he nudged her back. They stayed like that for a moment, both leaning against the other, savouring the warmth of the person next to them as the night cooled, both overcome with how *right* it felt. Almost without thinking Claire shifted slightly bringing her body closer to Jamie’s so that they were flush along their sides and rested her head on his shoulder. Jamie shifted in time, his arm coming round her back, bringing her close to him. Neither of them spoke, they just looked out over the camp, watching the lamps sway in the gloaming light. A shriek of laughter from the group nearest to them made them both jump and made them suddenly aware of their intimacy. Jamie turned to Claire, meaning to apologise but instead found her mouth against his. Without hesitation he returned her kiss, the heat of her lips and tongue making his stomach flip. His hands ran across her back as hers came up around his neck pulling him closer to her as she bit his lip gently. She leaned back pulling her down with him onto the grass.

“Jamie” she murmured against his neck as she moved down and kissed his throat. “Jamie”

It had been dark in that part of the camp, neither had brought a lamp when they sat down and the nearest group was far enough away that the light did not reach them. They could have been alone in the world as he kissed her, and she kissed him in the darkness.

She didn’t know what had prompted her to do it. Claire was not one for kissing men for no good reason, especially ones that she had to live in very close proximity for the next few months. But there was something about him that defied her conscious thought. She hadn’t planned to kiss him, she hadn’t even realised she was going to kiss him until the moment their lips met and it was too late by then. The weight of him above her as they kissed felt like home and his soft kisses with a hint of promise made her blood pound in her ears.

But then suddenly he was gone. He was on his feet and pulling her to hers. Light flashed around them as a row of tents went up in flames. Jamie went to move towards the commotion when gun shots rang out. Quickly changing course he turned and headed into the cover of the rainforest dragging Claire behind him. He came to a stop about 200 metres from the camp, so suddenly that they collided. The forest around them was full of people fleeing and screaming. Claire looked towards the camp and saw the main tent catch fire. She made to run towards it,  but Jamie caught her arm.

“No, mo nighean donn” he murmured into her ear, holding her close to his body both in protection and restraint.

“But the equipment,  the finds…” She was twisting in his arms trying to free herself but she could not overpower him. He pulled her closer murmuring comforting sounds into her ear, in what she guessed was Gaelic, And around her the world burned.

anonymous asked:

3 word prompt: kate, drunk, london

#314

—–

“I shouldn’t have come,” she moaned. Her head throbbed, her eyes were two stones sunk into the soup of her sockets. Her face hurt. “This was such a bad idea. Oh fuck.”

Hunt caught her hair and held it off her neck, his fingers teased and made her shiver. “It was a perfectly wonderful idea,” he said. His voice was liquid sex. She hated herself for wanting him. “It’s possible you had too many fireballs.” His eyes twitched like Castle’s when he was amused. “And you perhaps took some liberties-”

“I tried to hump one of those fur-hatted palace soldiers. Oh God.” She bowed her head over the hedge where she could still smell her vomit, and she groaned even as Hunt laughed.

“You did. However, I have connections and you’re fine. No charges.”

Charges. Oh God. Oh God, she should never have bought the plane ticket. When he had come to her crime scene with the blonde, she hadn’t even flinched. (Well, only a little.) When he had come and gone at will through her precinct with that ‘just had sex’ face, she had steeled herself.

So why the hell had his ‘fun and uncomplicated’ inspired this?

(Because he was a man of words. Actions were one thing, actions she had learned from him not to believe. Words. Words had power, and she was as miserable inside as out).

“Katherine?”

“It’s Kate,” she growled, clenching her jaw around her own damn name. Hunt couldn’t even be bothered to get it right.

“While getting pissed and grinding against a Queen’s Guard doesn’t put me off. The - uh - sick does.”

Put him off?

“If you think you’re done, we can head for a public loo, let you clean up. Go back to your hotel-”

“Oh God,” she moaned, slamming her eyes shut.

There was a moment of silence. Then. “Is that a no?”

No,” she snapped. “Hunt. Just - go.”

“I can’t leave you here. It’s three in the morning, Katherine-”

Kate.” She rounded on him, her hand balled into a fist, but her own seasickness made her too unbalanced to throw the punch. Instead she wound up swaying back into the hedge, twigs snagging at her clothes.

He reached for her, his fingers around her elbow to drag her upright. His touched burned. Her throat burned. Her eyes.

She couldn’t even do this. Castle could parade fun and easy flight attendants through her precinct, but she couldn’t even go through with this. Hump a Queen’s Guard, but when it came to touching Hunt, letting him touch her, kissing him - her first reaction was to vomit in the bushes.

“I’m not leaving you here.”

“You don’t need to protect me,” she rasped, wiping the back of her hand against her mouth. “I’m sober now.”

And she was.

Dead sober.

Hunt refused to leave her side. His chivalry was antagonizing, considering he’d been angling for sex even after she’d thrown up. Now he was trying to usher her quickly back to her hotel room.

A hotel room she didn’t have.

“Call me a cab,” she got out. Her hand shook as she scraped her hair back off her face. Her mouth was the pit of hell. “Get me a cab, put me in it, and go home, Hunt.”

“It’s Hunt now, is it?”

She eyed him.

He put up both hands in ‘calm down’, and then he fished out his phone from his back pocket. She was working hard to keep it together, to look put-together.

It took everything in her power to not hit him. Asshole.

Except she knew it wasn’t him she wanted to have it out with. She’d bought a fifteen hundred dollar plane ticket to prove something that wasn’t even true.

Her heart actually was broken. 

When the cab pulled up, Beckett crawled in. She didn’t look at Hunt, didn’t wave, and he had stopped trying to talk her into a toothbrush and a hotel room.

“Where to?”

“Heathrow,” she croaked, tilting her head back against the seat.

She closed her eyes but it made the tears slip down her cheeks. 

Pathetic. She hated him. She did. She hated him.

So why did she have her phone in her hand and her thumb hovering over his contact? Why, even as she was shaking with exhaustion and dehydration and bitter drunken sobriety, was the heat of her thumb already calling him?

Oh, God.

And he answered.

That curt command of her name, such anger in it. Why did he get to be angry? He was the one going to Las Vegas for more setting-curtains-on-fire one night stands.

Beckett. You called me. Answer your damn phone.”

She stared at it, astonished that every word came to her so clearly, astonished she had actually called him.

She put the phone to her ear. “N-never mind.”

“No, you ruined my evening. You tell me what the problem is. Another case? I don’t feel like it. So-”

“I’m in London.”

Air punched out over the line; she heard the drag of his breath back in. “London. England.”

“I’m hanging up,” she grit out, pulling it away from her ear.

But he yelled her name through the phone - yelled - and she flinched hard enough to startle the phone back to her ear.

“You better not hang up on me. London? Are you kidding? Calling me to what, Beckett, brag about it? How long did it take to let him fuck you?”

“How long did it take you?” she bit out. “With your flight attendant. Driving that car, Castle. I love that car.” She snapped her eyes shut and shook her head. Stupid. He wasn’t hers to-

She lowered the phone and ended the call, curled her knees up to her chest to keep her stomach from rolling.

The phone buzzed in her hand and she ignored it. Silenced it, her eyes fixed on the world outside, tried to keep from getting motion sick with the slip and slide of the city past the window. 

This had all been such a mistake.

—–

As for the duel with Hamilton, Burr almost never showed any remorse. Soon after returning to America, he visited his aunt, Rhoda Edwards, who worried about his immortal soul and warned him, “You have committed a great many sins against God and you killed that great and good man, Colonel Hamilton. I beseech you to repent and fly to the blood and righteousness of the Redeemer for pardon.” Burr found this rather quaint: “Oh, aunt, don’t feel too badly,” he replied. “We shall both meet in heaven.” One day, Burr was walking down Nassau Street in New York when Chancellor James Kent happened to see him. Kent lost all control, swooped down on Burr, and started flailing at him with his cane. “You are a scoundrel, sir!” Kent shouted. “A scoundrel!” His legendary aplomb intact, Burr tipped his hat and said, “The opinions of the learned Chancellor are always entitled to the highest consideration.” Then he bowed and walked away. Burr never lost his sense of humor about having killed Hamilton and made facetious references to “my friend Hamilton, whom I shot.” Once, in the Boston Athenaeum, Burr paused to admire a bust of Hamilton. “There was the poetry,” he said, tracing creases in Hamilton’s face with his finger. Another time, Burr paused at a tavern to refresh his horses and wandered over to a traveling waxworks exhibition. He suddenly came upon a tableau that represented him and Hamilton in the duel. Underneath ran this verse: “O Burr, O Burr, what has thou done? / Thou hast shooted dead great Hamilton. / You hid behind a bunch of thistle, / And shooted him dead with a great hoss pistol.” In relating the story, Burr roared with laughter. Only once did Burr betray any misgivings about killing Hamilton. While reading the scene in Laurence Sterne’s Tristram Shandy in which the tenderhearted Uncle Toby picks up a fly and delicately places it outside a window instead of killing it, Burr is said to have remarked, “Had I read Sterne more and Voltaire less, I should have known the world was wide enough for Hamilton and me.
—  Alexander Hamilton, Ron Chernow

[6]

MOKONA NO THIS WAS IMPORTANT. 

MOKONA PLEASE. I WANT TO EXPLORE THE FLOATY BUBBLES SOME MORE. 

It is very possible that I was reading too much into the floaty bubbles and it is not actual. 

BUT ALSO WHO THE HELL KNOWS AT THIS POINT. I AM SUSPICIOUS OF TOO MANY THINGS. I JUST DON’T KNOW.

I have also been staring at those suits for long minutes now. I feel like I should say something beyond “wow”, and yet that’s all I can think of. 

So. Like. 

Wow. 

anonymous asked:

So I literally wear hats 24/7 unless my hair is up in an old 80's style red scrunchie from my primary school days because it's so Heather Chandler confidence boosting... Can we include scrunchies in this because I know all MY straight friends are like "Uh... Why scrunchies? they're not cool"

I wore scrunchy on my wrist as a kid, so this story checks out

Anon said:  Sorry if I’m a bit late to the game, but I LOVE hats. My favourite are floppy beach hats (with black sunglasses and red lipstick). But you know what else rocks? Fascinators! Good luck pulling me away from a fascinator display :D

Anon said: Oh my god this hats stuff… I have a drawer overflowing with hats and I wear them all so often but if I see one I like I have to make sure I buy it without anyone around as my entire family and friend group will stop me because I have ‘too many’. HATS ARE ACE CULTURE AND I LOVE IT.

ada-refractor said: My dash was suddenly full of hats, and lemme just say that every day I wear my jughead hat I feel like a badass ace rebel, and that feel is fantastic

I feel like the world is a lil cozier one hat at a time 

riverdalearmy84  asked:

I have an unhealthy obsession with the kitchen scene Oh my god

you & me both babe, you & me both. ive rewatched it a bit too many times…and the i love you scene too because 1. so strong and emotional and powerful. 2. juggie looks fucking HOT with that sweater and without the hat. he also looks hot wearing nothing but betty’s lips all over him.

anonymous asked:

hi lovely admins <3. can i request an extra fluffy scenario about shopping for baby clothes with yoongi? there’s a slight possibility that i’m sending this after listening to miss right ;D.

Awww this request is way too cute! (I can’t handle writing things involving babies; they’re just too cute >_<) I hope you enjoy it!~

- Devi  (*≧∀≦*)

shopping for baby clothes

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I’ve debated whether or not to send this in for a while, since it happened so long ago, and I’ve mostly put it behind me.  But then I decided “screw it”—I’ve never really talked to anyone about it, and I figure that if anyone could relate, it would be you guys.  Sorry, this is pretty long. Names have been changed (though it was so long ago, it probably doesn’t matter anymore)

Just before fifth grade, my family had moved to a new school district (shortly after having moved from a different state).  I was painfully shy, and had social problems that made it difficult for me to talk to strangers.  Being the awkwardly tall and skinny girl with braces didn’t help, and I was quickly targeted by bullies.  I was pretty much without friends, until I met a girl who shall be called Misa.  She was kind of a goofy nerd, too, completely non-judgmental, and really nice.  We hit it off pretty well, and became best friends.  The bullying from other kids didn’t stop, but having one friend made it more bearable.  In time, a boy (Will) joined our group, and then another boy, Marlin.  Marlin was the weird kid, who wouldn’t talk to anyone, wore the same clothes every day, didn’t seem to bathe often, and spent most of his time in the library reading manga.  He was another prime bully-target, which was why we went out of our way to include him in our little group (most of us knew how it felt to be bullied, and it sucked).  The teachers encouraged our efforts, because apparently he came from a really neglectful/abusive home, and they were glad that he finally had some friends.

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strxwhxt  asked:

⛵️ 💩 ☠ 😆 🍎 😐 👂

👂 - Favorite quote?⛵️ - Fave pirate ship? (like boat ship)

The Thousand Sunny obviously. Like how could you argue against that?

Originally posted by akamaru

💩 - Least favorite character? (in general)

Spandam. I hate ratty villain characters. But i guess that’s suppose to be the point, right? 

Originally posted by sssanji-blog

☠ - Fave pirate symbol?

I love the straw hat symbol, but I think the red haired pirates one is cooler. 

Originally posted by naruto-d-kurosaki

😆 - Funniest scene?

Oh god, too many to name. I really like from Whole Cake Island Arc when the straw hats were retreating and the mirror was destroyed and everyone made the shocked face. but i think I’m always gonna like this scene from the anime 

Originally posted by mangapandacom

🍎 - Fave Devil Fruit power?

It’s a tie between Magellan’s Doku Doku no mi and X Drake’s dino devil fruit 

Originally posted by kalissen

😕 - Scariest character?

Doflamingo definitely. I still get chills when I hear his laugh 

Originally posted by tenkaichibudokaii

👂 - Favorite quote?

There are so many great quotes in one piece. I love Luffy’s “TELL ME YOU WANT TO LIVE” speech to Robin but I also really love his “I can’t do anything without my crew” speech to Arlong, who by the way is my favorite one piece villain 

Originally posted by rorronoa

anonymous asked:

Niall isn’t trying to be anyone but himself and isn’t trying to hide behind a big production he went from playing huge stadiums to small venues and u can genuinely tell how proud he is he’s gained so much confidence and is so unproblematic and the sweetest person ever oh my god I wanna cry there arent enough ppl like him in the world my little bunny omg

He’s kinda like Shawn. They are kinda soft easy to get along with boys. They aren’t up their own ass. I mean Niall is so typical. The Too Much To Ask with his little grandpa hat (which i love) and then getting beers with his mates. He’s been doing that since forever, he’s never changed. I just want to sit and give him a hug and crack jokes with him. 

Flicker legit gives me so many emotions and it’s like the perfect album for me. I love albums that hit me right away with bops, it makes me happy and the they can bring it right down and fucking rip my heart out. In Flicker, when he legit is just crying “please don’t go” i die. I die deep down inside. I’m so happy for him and for the rest of the boys doing what they love and being true to themselves. 

anonymous asked:

okay okay but like mcree hc's about readers CAT! cat had kittens maybe. Oh god they're chewing on my hat. they're EVERYWHERE!!

Fun fact: i love cats but i’m so allergic :’(

  • He’s not really a cat person but he never had a problem with your cat
  • Your cat kind of tolerated him as well. Got kind of upset that he didn’t fawn over them like you do, but no hostility or anything
  • Definitely cares abt them, they are a part of the family after all
  • Asks you if you’ve fed them, changed their water, etc. periodically
  • He might be mildly allergic. Nothing awful but a few sneezes if he doesn’t wash his hands enough
  • But the kittens….. god, the kittens
  • There’s too many of them
  • They’re all over his stuff and they’re so tiny??
  • He’s afraid to pick them up because he doesn’t want to hurt them
  • But they’re getting hair all over his things and he has to sleep there, dammit
  • He runs out to the living room to find you and he’s panicking and sneezing and there’s like. A cat clinging to the front of his shirt
  • “Darlin please”
  • But they’re very cute when they aren’t trying to make him miserable

so i don’t know about you and i don’t know if it’s canon or not but there’s something i can’t stop thinking about, jily and remadora… i mean you know… dOUBLE DATES HOLY HOLY JAMES LILY REMUS AND TONKS 

  • james and tonks clicking inmediately 
  • they would’ve done so much noise together 
  • like s o  m u c h  n o i s e !!!!!
  • you would’ve felt like you were dying when you were with these two dorks because they would’ve made you laugh so much you stomach would’ve hurt really bad 
  • and they would’ve done a lot of p r a n k s 
  • remus and lily just sitting there and rolling their eyes at them bUT 
  • when james and tonks weren’t looking at them anymore remus and lily would’ve been like “*sighs* god aren’t they so fucking brilliant?”
  • and james would’ve been like “so tonks can you show me again the duck mouth thing”
  • and tonks would’ve been like “ugh james you cAAAAN’T dooooo it”
  • imagine them four at a concert of the weird sisters holy shit
  • james and remus screaming the lyrics to the songs and tonks and lily dancing crazily like tonks would’ve been like
  • “just shake your hair like this lily”
  • and after that, they would’ve gone to the leaky cauldron or the three broomsticks and there would’ve been too many empty glasses on the table, glasses that once were filled with firewhisky and butterbeer
  • lily and remus would’ve been like crazy dancing and doing crazy shit 
  • and then they would’ve been singing stuff like 
  • “what’s a wizarding without his wand the same thing i am without your hands what’s a wizard without his hat the same thing i am without your heart”
  • oh no that wouldn’t be pretty at all 
  • but james and tonks would’ve been totally lost in them