or talks about

@whatthefoucault yes that’s exactly what he was wearing and i said what i said, Carter Baizen in his first few episodes was finer than fine 

look at that smirk in the last gif and tell me u wouldn’t let Carter Baizen in all his rags for shirts, scruffy face, curly hair glory Dick You Down™ 

I keep thinking of how much I love talking to you,...

how good you look when you smile.
How much I love your laugh.
I daydream about you all the time
replaying pieces of our conversation,
laughing at funny things you said or did.
I’ve memorized your face
and the way you look at me.
I want you to know that I cherish every moment that I spend with you.

Lips.

Because it’s all I’ve been able to talk and think about today…



Up. Down. A little twist to the side. Now a large ‘O’. And a small pinch.

If you were being honest, you had no idea what he was saying. Not because of his strong accent that you loved, or the fact that he spoke lowly and slowly, which would drive you absolutely insane if it were any other person. No, you had no idea what he was saying because his lips were moving and once more you were in a trance. 

It was fascinating to look at, his mouth. How you could even put your headphones on and block out the sound and still see his accent. His lips were… Something else entirely. 

It’s a bit embarrassing, you had to admit. If he were to direct the word straight to you, you would need him to repeat himself over and over before properly being able to answer him. You were glad he was speaking to the group of people gathered in your living room, and not just to you. In fact, you didn’t know how you had managed to become and stay friends with him when all you could do was get hypnotised by his lips every time he talked. 

The way he said his ‘Buh-’ sounds. The fact that he never pronounced the ‘tt’s in ‘better’. The pout he pulled when he got stuck in his ‘uhmmm’s. The little bites when he was paying attention to someone else speak. No wonder they are such a vibrant shade of pink. They were soft, you knew that. The cheeky British charm he carried seemed to come with a proper kiss to your cheek when he greeted you, and nothing like the semi awkward cheek-touching-cheek-hello ‘you americans’ - as Harry put it - would do.

There goes another pinch at them. You remind yourself to nod and look around the room to try and hide your pointed looks, but you weren’t being as sly as you thought you were. Not knowing whatever was your friends kept babbling on about, your eyes soon found their way back to the thing they love to look at the most.

“You’re doing that again” the words knocked you out of the trance you were in. Your friend had leaned over and whispered to you as discreetly as possible, which you were thankful for, as she pushed an empty bowl of chips to your chest. Right, time to act like the host you were. She got up and followed you to the kitchen continuing the hushed conversation.
“Doing what?” you ask legitimately confused.
“Staring at Harry’s face” Ah, so it was that obvious. Whoops. You made a mental note to stop that and try to join the conversation when you eventually went back to the living room, in hopes to avoid the absentminded stare. 
“I’m not looking at his face” you started but decided to cut yourself. The only thing worse than your friend thinking you stared at Harry’s face cause you liked him, was for her to know that you didn’t stare at his face, but just at his lips cause they piqued your interest in ways you couldn’t comprehend yourself. Pouring whatever was left of the chips into the bowl, you quickly returned to the relaxing get together in your living room. At least your best friend knew to stay quiet in front of the others, and wouldn’t bombard you with more thoughts in the matter while the rest of the gang was around. 

Joining the chat was easy, staying in it was a different feat. The lads varied from topic to topic, dominating the direction the small reunion took, mostly with jokes and football talk. It wasn’t your fault the topic was so boring to you that you had to busy yourself with studying Harry’s lips from across the room once again. It wasn’t your fault he was the only British guy in the group which made his accent interesting and amusing, specially when he called soccer football or footie, and defended his position whenever the other guys would transition to american football
“Noo. ‘Mean ‘soccer’. Real football tha’ is. Played wif’ actual balls and feet, innit?” it was something no one in the group would let him live down. Same with the word trousers which made you giggle, and the way he introduced himself something more like “ ‘M ‘arry.” instead of  “I’m Harry”.

In all honesty, it made you even more captivated by his lips. And today specially, for some unknown reason, you were very very fixated on them. More than usual. And you swore that one day you would grow used to them with him being your close friend and all, but that day didn’t seem to be today. So you just resigned to stare silently and hope no one noticed.


Having little get togethers at home meant you had to do the cleaning after, but luckily your best friend had stuck around, and so had Harry with whom you fell into a nice ‘you rinse, I dry’ system while your best friend attended a seemingly very important phone call out in your backyard. Your attention was fully set into drying and stacking plates and utensils. Harry’s attention was halfway set on washing, halfway set on trying to stop a telling smirk from forming on his face

You didn’t know but Harry knew. 

He had known for a while now. At first he noticed only slightly that you weren’t fully there when he spoke to the whole group. He noticed how you would sometimes fidget and ask him to repeat somethings when he spoke to you alone, pinning it on his accent and the way he annoyingly slurred words. And slowly he found himself glancing at you only to see you were already looking in his direction. He never mentioned anything, slowly coming to the conclusion that for some reason you were looking at his lips.

And for some reason he liked that. 

After the last plate Harry leaned over the counter peeking through the small window in your kitchen at your friend pacing and chatting away on her phone.
“Wha’ do yeh reckon ‘s so important?” he puckered his lips in her direction, as if he was pointing to her without his hands, and you were gone. His bottom lip jutted out only a tad more than his upper lip. You hadn’t noticed that before.

Harry looked at you from the corner of his eye, only to catch you once again. Ok this was beyond his control. Today had been the day. You weren’t doing a nice job at being sly about it and he wondered if maybe you meant for him to notice. He doubted it, knowing you he was sure that you would be completely terrified about him knowing you look at his lips because… Because what? He didn’t know why you did that. He licked his lips self consciously, just to get whatever it is you could be staring at off his lips, if that was even the reason you stared. But you pressed on for a second longer before turning to look out the window as well.
“Yeh know…” Harry started, turning around and resting on the counter smugly. Arms crossed over his chest as he pouted, bit and licked his lips over and over, like a person who’s thinking hard about what to say next. Your attention was on him, his eyes this time. You knew better than to just straight up glare at his lips when it was only you and him. “Yeh do tha’ an awful lot”
“What?” your eyebrow raised in confusion.
“Look at m’lips” the smirk that accompanies the sentence is not lost to you, and you find yourself getting warm cheeks and taking a small step back at the mention.  

Busted.

What?” this time your what was more of an incredulous, surprised ‘what.’ As if you couldn’t believe what he was saying, or better yet that he noticed. Harry only nodded slightly, turning to face you.
“I do notice…” he bites back “s’okay… though I’d love t’know why”
“There’s no why because I don’t look at your lips all the time” In Harry’s head it was futile for you to try and defend the point. He knew you did and that was final. You didn’t know why you did it – deep down maybe there was the thought of wanting to properly kiss him but you always shook it off, – so you can’t really give him an explanation. In the midst of your thoughts he had somehow gotten closer.
“I mean, if yeh want to kiss me” there’s suddenly no space between his chest and yours, and at this distance all you can do is stare at his lips, because who wouldn’t “all yeh hafta’ do is say the word”
“H-harry, get off y-your high horse” you’re able to spew out with a whispery thread of a voice. The chuckle that leaves his pinker than life, softer than a cloud lips throws you off. This is the cockiest you’ve seen Harry act, and right now you can’t decide if you’re okay with it or want him to back off. 
“C’mon now”
“Harry…” his hands, which also fascinate you - he can’t keep them still, and seems to always have more rings than it would be socially acceptable if it wasn’t cause his boyish charm just seems to go perfectly with 7 rings and helps him get away with mostly everything- come to thumb at your lower lip. 

His eyes were fixated on them since the moment he got this close, but there was no way you could realise that because your eyes were already trained on his cupid’s bow and light stubbly shadow of a moustache. He also liked how plump they were and if you didn’t greet him with the cheek-touching-cheek bullshit, he would know just how soft they were too, except now he could tell because he was touching them. This close, you can definitely see a freckle on his lips and quite frankly you didn’t know his mouth could get anymore hypnotising… But here we are. And his lips move but you do catch the sounds as he opens and closes his mouth in the most endearing of ways.
“S’okay. I stare at yours an awful lot too…”



I do NOT know what this was. It certainly turned out longer than I expected (I didn’t even expect to write anything) and took another direction than I imagined (it was just supposed to be you thinking about his lips, none of his perspective type of thing. But here we are) So… Yeah… Here’s something. IDk. It’s not a blurb and it’s not a fic either. Just a group of words.

kay, bye.
Iv. xo.

playfulpiano  asked:

Ok, that art style is pretty cool. You have Intern!Sans with blue pupils/colors representing sans' blue traits, Integrity/Patience, and then you have NM!Chara representing sans' red trait, determination, and they're arguing with each other. Not only that, but when each aspect gains the upper hand, actual sans receives a color boost from that trait. Plus, I honestly see NM!Chara less of an enemy of sans and more of an extension of sans, he'll prob have to accept that as being a part of himself.

Thanks! And yeaaaaaaaah that blue/red, intern/nightmare!chara dynamic is pretty hostile at the moment. 

Can be surmised as them bother trying to go-

-to shut each other up.

But lets see where it goes

friendly reminder that Armin’s father works as a computer security expert so maybe he could help with that whole Iris thing

what I mean is that I want to go to Armin’s house and meet my virtual in-laws

i just wanted to say that i fully believe in ghosts, aliens, and magic

i believe that tarot cards can show the future

i believe in some superstitions 

i believe some dreams can be prophetic 

i believe spells/curses/hexes are real and can work

and i dont talk about it much because a)it’s been made to seem like a joke b)i was repeatedly told by some family members that it’s not real/fake c)it’s something i truly believe in and it’s a huge part of my life and the last thing i want is more people to personally tell me that it’s all in my head

anonymous asked:

What are your thoughts on the lyrics of Dangerous Animals?

I love Dangerous Animals. The lyrics to me always embodied a sexual frustration/tension/desire he can’t get to. There are a lot of phrases in that song that fit each other “pinned down by the dark, to my knees you do promote me.” Humbug era Alex lyrics are trickier to decipher, especially a song like this. He tends to bounce around, with long winded ideas and concepts that leave you a little breathless and confused. However, his theme and mood are still cast pretty strong. I always liked in Dangerous Animals how he describes the acrobat falling off the beam, the audience watching. Those lines are consistent with the album’s overall theme and tone, the nonsense and the like… Carnival imagery he refers to throughout the entire album. I have another ask about Humbug, and I will write about this more in depth in that.

Anyway, I’ve always struggled with understanding what his message is in this song. Since I can’t actually go and ask him, and if I could he wouldn’t tell me, I can only guess. Usually my guesses have more confidence but this one I never really was so sure. Because he like steers the lyrics in a different direction out of nowhere. I’ll try my best, but don’t take my word for it. And if you have thought otherwise this entire time and want to disagree with me, you can. I have a very weak argument. I’m not sure if I’m right on this one.

The first verse starts with him fighting with his sheets, or struggling to sleep, because he’s frustrated. The well-told gripe. He just wants a girl. “You should have racing stripes the way you keep me in pursuit.” Gets me every time. I don’t need to explain that. “Then do my knees you do promote me” - he’s almost at her mercy, as if to say being pushed down by this girl is a promotion. (Similar theme in She Does the Woods. “She turns my back to the earth and shows me that’s where I’m meant to be.” I’m just assuming by his consistent bottom position he likes to be… Dominated? Inappropriate. I digress.)

He’s stuck in the dark thinking of this girl. “The light it fidgets though, the thoughts’ll soon revert to you…” He’s stuck in the dark, or presumably at night (another major theme on this album; night time, sleep, darkness) thinking of her again. “About as bashful as a tribal dance” - tribal dances are the opposite of bashful. His thoughts aren’t bashful at all. They’re enough for him to later say “so let’s make a mess lioness.” His head pirouettes, or spins around more than he’d like to admit to himself or to the girl he’s thinking of.

The lines I have always struggled with are his circus sounding lines, which are the ones  about the acrobat falling off the beam. Where did it come from? Are his friends the audience, divided, telling him how he should feel about this girl? Is it her friends telling her to stay away from him? Who is the acrobat on the beam? Was he just like… this sounds right I’m doing it? (Maybe?) Those lines always stuck out to me because I couldn’t figure them out. I can’t make sense of them. If you have an idea, tell me. I’d love to know.

Some people/interviewers said that AM was the sexy, raunchy album that was kind of unexpected. I always disagreed because of Dangerous Animals. It’s him expressing a frustration, something sexual and laced in desire he can’t let go of. He’s losing sleep over it. He just wants her, doesn’t know how to get to her. It’s been long enough now, so just make a mess already. That line makes my stomach flip, every time. “make a mess, lioness.” Ugh.