pick n' mix


Our first ever meeting in the lobby of a Belfast hotel did start by him rugby tackling me to the floor yelling “WIFEY!” We like to call him Tigger – he has more energy than I do after 3 bags of Pick ‘N’ Mix, and he is a good foot taller than me and can also bench press me with one hand. But he is also very talented and very kind. You can’t get much better than Momoa. It was brilliant to have him as my on-screen hubbie! – Emilia Clarke

anonymous asked:

I just realized I never told you the ship lol. Can you do 12, 33, and 47 for any ship? Like which do you think would be more likely to do what?

That’s okay friend!!! You can just have a little pick n mix of ships, we’ll keep things interesting. 

12. Who is smol/ Who is tol?

Okay I’ve already done Nessian size difference…somewhere so I’ll say elucien for this one because!!!! I think Elain is a little taller then Nesta but Lucien is Tol, Lucien is very Tol, he’s like a ginger string bean, relatively slender but just..there is no end to him he just goes on forever. Elain definitely makes lots of adorable little teasing comments about like ‘how’s it going up there?’ that always make Lucien smile. And again because I will gladly marry this trope and profess my undying love to it forever and always: clothes size difference. Elain wearing Lucien’s shirts and giggling because it’s basically a nightdress (and she uses it as such) 

33. Who would wear “not guilty” t-shirt/ Who would wear “sin” t-shirt?

Elucien: Lucien wears the ‘not guilty’ one because obviously he is a ball of innocence and butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. Elain wears the sin one and everyone thinks that it’s because they’re like being funny and ironic and swapping who should have which one. Elain smirks because she knows full well that this is exactly the right way around. 

Moriel*: Mor definitely wears the sin one. Azriel wears the not guilty one because she looked at him with huge pleading puppy eyes and he couldn’t say no. Mor very proudly wears the sin one and is very :D about it, because yes, that’s right. (later that night however Az is the one full of sin when he’s peeling her out of said t-shirt.) 

Nessian*: Cassian wears the sin one and beams. Nesta flat out refuses to wear the ‘ not guilty’ one to match and that makes Cassian sad for about 0.5 seconds before he comes up with THE GREATEST IDEA ANYONE HAS EVER HAD. He wears both of them, one on top of the other and when someone (either Mor or Azriel - actually probably both) just snorts in derision and not guilty? really? and he just WELL I’M GLAD YOU ASKED and then they both realise they fucked up and Nesta is burying her face in her hands in the background because why do I do this to myself? As Cassian (ungracefully) and dramatically pulls the ‘not guilty’ shirt off to reveal the ‘sin’ one underneath and he’s grinning around and also smirking at Nesta because ‘see sweetheart, this is why you should just have worn the shirt.’ Nesta just snorts and tells him this is the funniest, stupidest thing she’s seen all week this is exactly why she shouldn’t wear the paired shirts. But then Cassian doesn’t really think about anything else because he’s too busy beaming because he made her laugh. 

*what likely happens out of these two is that Mor and Cassian both proudly wear their sin shirts and walk up the street arm in arm happily showing them off while Nesta and Azriel walk a little ways behind them and pretend that they’re not associated with these weirdos. 

Feyrhys: Rhys sees the t-shirts while he and Feyre are out shopping and drags her over to them like !!!! :D Look!!! Feyre just deadpans ‘No,’ and wanders off and Rhys deflates like a sad balloon but accepts his fate. 

47. Who has the more complex coffee order?


Nesta: Normal order with general trimmings. 

Cassian: ‘Just Coffee’ 


Elain: something so full of milk and sugar it barely counts as coffee anymore.

Lucien: same as Nesta, probably. That or an espresso because sometimes he’s just like….’I’m dying. Revive me.’ 


Rhys: It’s probably so complicated he just hands them a note with it all neatly written out to make it easier for them. It’s the length of his forearm and the longer he talks the deeper the frown lines on Feyre’s head get because…how can coffee be this complicated? 

Feyre:….whatever he just ordered, that’ll do. 

Moriel: (miss the point of coffee entirely):

Mor: a gigantic hot chocolate with all the cream and marshmallows and strawberries and wafers and pretty much anything they can reasonably stuff on top of this thing they do.

Azriel: tea.

Me before my therapy session: laughing, choosing to walk instead of taking the bus, fucking about and generally being cheery

Me after my therapy session: spends 20€ on ugly decorative items and pick'n mix while listening to The National

Good Enough (b2)

prologue; part one; part two; part three; part four; part five; part six; part seven; part eight;part nine; part ten; part eleven; part twelve; part thirteen; part fourteen; part fifteen; part sixteen; part seventeen; part eighteen; part nineteen; part twenty; part twenty one; part twenty two; part twenty three; part twenty four; epilogue.

bonus scenes: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

Sehun reached across the car to wrap his fingers around yours, squeezing them tight for your attention. “This will probably be the last time I do something like this,” he said with a hint of sadness in his low voice. “Especially if my father steps down at the end of the summer like he’s planning to do.”

Pulling your gaze away from Nari and Kira, who were sat opposite you playing i-spy out of Kira’s window, you shuffled closer along the backseat and rested your head on your husband’s broad shoulder. “It’s not written anywhere that the king can’t play a bit of charity basketball once in a while,” you told him softly, brushing your thumb across the back of his hand.

Keep reading

So I had a really weird dream last night/this morning

It started off I was at a party on a misty Island, but also somehow my middle school, a huge shopping centre and the streets were a lot like Bath? You know how in dreams you just get random locations that are all sort of mushed together into the same place? it was one of those. 

So yeah the party was all over this island and various people I know walking all over the place. There were some friends I haven’t really seen in a while there and we were low key arguing about where to go because we wanted to go to different places on the island. 

So I ended up going to this huge pick n mix sweet shop by the side of a road. like a service station (which has I think actually been a recurring thing in many of dreams, like this exact shop. It kind of resembled like the big lego stores they have, all white etc.)

Everyone’s getting drunk and the party’s going on, then flash forward a bit and I’ve found Ezra Miller and he’s realllly drunk, like you need to call an ambulance drunk, and I’m like omg I have to look after him? so I carry him through the streets like a baby and get on this old rickety steam ferry home.

Flash forward again and all the people are sleeping over at my Brother’s ex girlfriends, Mum’s house, which is in New York for some reason. SO I’m tucking Ezra in and I’m so worried about him that I’m staying up by his bedside being all doting and shit, then I fall asleep and I wake up and his girlfriend is in the bed with him and they’re like giving me evils and whispering about me. And I think she texted everyone bad shit about me. 

So the next morning everyone’s having breakfast in what looks like a hotel and she confronts me and says she’s gonna call the police for stealing her boyfriend (Ezra Miller) and she’s gonna take me to court and I’m like whoa I saved his life wtf and so what, I love Ezra Miller IDGAF. So THEN I smash her phone up and chuck it out the window. And I GO TO COURT, get dismissed.

THEN PLOT TWIST me and my family are on the streets of New York and either Jay Z or Beyoncé’s brother (I’m pretty sure neither of them have brothers but in this universe they do) get’s HIT BY A CAR right in front of us. Then we go to his funeral….

Alright hold on

Before I leave I wanna say something that I’ve been meaning to say since I heard about the whole ‘’I’m planning my next fictive! uwu’’ thing

I’d honestly love to know where these people are coming from. Thankfully I’ve never seen them in person, but y’know what, here’s my opinion.

Just. fucking. don’t. You quite obviously don’t understand how or why a fictive is formed in the first place. They are formed through trauma. Extensive childhood trauma or the re occurrence of trauma after initial splits have already taken place at an early age. Get it? Trauma. They don’t just fucking pop up out of nowhere. Fictives aren’t there because, hey, ‘’I like steven universe therefore I made Pearl’’. it doesn’t work like that. I cannot comprehend why people seem to think that just because they like some random character, they suddenly have a ‘fictive’ of them. It’s fucking unbelievable. Fictional introjects, just like any alters, are created due to dissociative disorders, a genuinely serious mental health problem, it’s not some fucking fad to be toyed with. Not only that but you can’t pick fictives. It isn’t a conscious choice. The  character has to have traits that the system/host needs to survive and those traits often aren’t pretty. Sure, you can have caring, motherly figures but more often than not, fictives can get pretty fucking problematic because the villainous types are the types that have those needed traits. they don’t just spring up like daises out of nowhere. Sure, you can gain fictives from recent media if you’re still in a difficult position or unable to process the trauma, but they don’t spring up like daisies for no particular reason and you certainly don’t decide to have them and you certainly can’t decide to fucking MAKE one.

Now, I understand that there are practices such as tulpamancy but I’m not getting into that- as an alter created by trauma I don’t really get the process of tulpamancy, though I have nothing against it in particular (we actually have a couple of friends who are into that). I’m primarily talking about the people who claim to have DID/OSDD and then go on to talk about ‘’making a fictive’’ and ‘’picking a fictive’’ as if it’s some kind of fucking pick n mix candy store bullshit. 

But, regarding tulpamancy, if this is indeed the practice in which those claiming to ‘’make a fictive’’ are partaking in. Here’s some advice from a 100% genuine fictive: don’t. Again, I don’t really get tulpamancy, but I can tell you that being a fictive is absolute fucking hell at times. Being ripped from your canon and all you ever knew and being placed in a body that isnt yours and being removed from everything you understood is not fun. Everyone feels differently, but for me in particular it’s sometimes fucking torture especially seen as I’m a villainous character and i have to deal with the backlash of what ‘i’ did, and I carry plenty of guilty for things that I didn’t even fucking do in this life. it sucks ass. Sure, I think it’s alright if it’s your own character, your OCs and whatnot- you already created them and their world, but characters from pre-existing media that is not your own? Nope. Just don’t. I don’t blame my host because it wasn’t her fault, but good luck when the poor thing hates your guts. 

Anyways, I just needed to get that out of my system as it’s been on my mind for a while. I’m sleepy and need to sleep, though, so take that with a pinch of salt, if you will.

Perfect Date Ideas #3

- Go to a used book store. You each get to pick one book (that you have never read). Go somewhere nice. You have to read the other person’s book out loud to them. Either take turns reading chapters, or if you are in a long term relationship, pick one book to read first. 

- Go to a candy store that lets you buy assorted candy in bulk, like pick n mix or whatever. custom make a bag of candy for your date. 

- Find a globe. Spin it. put your finger down to stop it. You have to eat at a restaurant with food from the place your finger landed. 

- Go to an antique or thrift store. Give yourselves a budget, like $5. Pick out a weird gift for the other person. BONUS: Whoever finds the weirder or creepier thing “wins” and gets to get kissed. Maybe wherever they want to be kissed, maybe not. Asexual/aromantic option” winner gets to pick dessert. 

- Go somewhere with sticks and trees and stuff. maybe a park. or a nice neighborhood. collect sticks and leaves. Make a wreath together. Figure out how to make a wreath. 

- Rainy day. Gutter River. Garbage boat race. 

- Trade shirts. or underwear. or socks. for the whole date. 

- Go to an arcade. Many pizza places have small arcades. Play games and eat breadsticks. 

- Go to the humane society and ask to see the kitties because you “want to adopt one” like you are a couple ready for that next step. Just fuckin play with the kitties. WARNING: if you are weak willed, you will end up going home with a kitty. Make sure your date understands the dangers. 

- Sheet of paper. Draw a grid. A bingo grid. fill in the squares with whatever and have a bingo-type-scavenger hunt. like if you are going to a bar, fill the squares with people or things you might see at a bar, or if you are going to dinner, fill it with restaurant things. whoever gets bingo first wins and has to bring a gift for the loser on your next date. Chocolate or cookies or flowers or a mix tape. 

- Go to a tea shop. Try some leaf water. 

- Go to a bakery. a small one. eat baked goods. Share a piece of cake. Forget your diet, indulge, it’s a date, right?

- Look up nature walks or classes. Usually the parks and rec department of your city will put these on. Go to one together. learn about local plants and animals. 

- Instead of Netflix and chill, try Nova and chill. Science is fascinating. And terrifying. If you watch one that gives you an existential crisis, it also gives you a good reason to cuddle for emotional support. 

- Make Christmas cookies or candy together. I don’t care what time of year it is, or if you even celebrate Christmas. cut out some tree shapes and spread on some cheap icing. In fact, this is better when it’s NOT the holiday. 

- Find a photo or picture of some type of two people that aren’t you and you don’t know. maybe in a magazine advertisement or in an old frame at an estate sale. Make up a backstory for these people. Develop their characters. Spend the rest of the day pretending to be these people instead. Get in an argument like these people. 

- Visit a hospital. Bring art you made ahead of time to decorate people’s rooms with. This works very well with hand turkeys around Thanksgiving. Just talk to those who are awake, and give them some art, and wish them a happy day. Also works great for senior centers. 

- Buy a homeless person dinner. or a night at a hotel. or a haircut. or a coat. Something they need and you can afford. Maybe do this instead of your regularly planned date. Once in a while it is sweet to show your love for your partner by showing kindness to a stranger. If you are in love with someone, there should be extra goodness inside you, right?

- Try a new fruit or vegetable together. The fuck is kohlrabi, amirite?

Yesterday I ate loads as I’m trying to help a friend with ED to feel comfortable making healthier choices and so we just ate normally with extra snacks but omg I cannot even now and one of my other blogs was followed by thinspo blog and ahhh no. no. I have a bag of pick n mix and I can feel a binge coming on. this is why I control what j eat so that I don’t binge if I don’t control it I lose control and then I spend all my time eating and eating junk food.

bc we didn’t get to see the gems at the store i’m going to headcanon who was doing what

garnet: reaching way into the back of the rack to try and find an XL box of tights

pearl: in the free-from aisle, looking at overpriced gluten free rice pudding

amethyst: alternating between the pick ‘n mix and video game bargain bin

peridot: either trolley riding down an empty aisle or trying on flannel shirts

lapis: waiting outside

cake-wolf44  asked:

Thoughts on bendex? I noticed you drew a scene from matchmaker (read the entire thing and loved it) so I was wondering about your opinion on the ship. I love your art btw

i was gonna draw something properly for this but nothing good was coming out

i prefer them as best friends, but i can appreciate their chemistry as a couple too! one of the greatest things about fusionfall is that everyone is beautiful and they all live within dating distance of each other so fans can just go wild. 

it’s a ship pick ‘n’ mix. anything goes. everyone’s dating.

Crimson Peak

I’m going to see Crimson Peak tomorrow and I’m genuinely scared I’ll never sleep again. I’m not great with scary movies, I have an active imagination and I live alone. I am also a jumpy person - when my phone rings at work I jump out of my seat, and don’t even get me started on our weekly fire alarm test. Once, in the cinema, a movie made me jump so much that I flung a whole bag of pick ‘n’ mix sweets about three feet in the air, much to my friend’s amusement.

But Tom Hiddleston though….

So basically, I am terrified that I am not going to make it through this movie. Has anyone seen it? Am I going to be okay? Someone please say soothing things to me…



Dear Diary,

It’s taken approximately 17 years, 6 months and 28 days but its FINALLY happened. I’M IN LOVE! Well and truly, deeply and madly, utterly and stupidly, can’t eat sleep or think of anything else, head over heels in love! And the object of my undying affection/rampant teenage keep getting boners every 5 bloody seconds lust?? The new Russian exchange student at school Ivan! Oh Ivan. How is it possible for one human being to be so God damn bloody cute (seriously, like the cutest thing you have EVER seen) whilse also being so God damn fucking GORGEOUS?! If I described him as the most adorably gorgeous boy to ever walk the Earth even THAT wouldn’t feel like I was doing him proper justice! And oh yeah, there’s another thing you should know about my future husband Ivan. He happens to be a real life, cartoonishly huge, genuine competitive bodybuilding muscle boy!! We’re talking every single body part exploding & bulging out for miles, twice as big and beefy as any fucking lad in any of my classes and a frame so wide he can barely fit in the school fucking hallways! FUUUCKKK!!

He’s like a miniature version of all the huge, freaky, vein splattered bodybuilders in the muscle mags I get out and have a sneaky look at/cheeky tug over every night, before hiding them under my bed, which by the way I am convinced my mum has found. That would explain why she hasn’t been able to look me in the eye for weeks, and why when my dad simply said the word “magazine” she dropped about four dinner plates on to the kitchen floor, before muttering something and scurrying out the room, face as red as a bleedin’ beetroot, with a look of sheer panic, horror and mortified embarrassment etched across it like some dirty old man in a trench coat had just flashed his penis at her!

Even when Ivan was standing at the front of the class as Mr Kennedy was introducing him, and he was covered up by his jacket, he still looked fucking MASSIVE! Like a fucking tank on two legs. Huge thick meat bulging underneath his clothing, begging to burst out. And then of course when Mr Kennedy announced “Ivan has entered muscle man competitions”, which caused a few whispers and giggles from the rest of the class, my face went bright, something started swelling under my desk and I prayed for the ground to swallow me whole. And then Mr K said, “Come on Ivan, show us those guns”! OH. MY. GOD!! Ivan blushed like mad (cuuuute) but his face erupted in a cheeky/smug smirk! He coyly took off his jacket and FUCK ME HARD his arms were fucking HUUUUGE!!! Two monstrously thick fucking cannon just popping out below the sleeves of his t shirt. A ripple of gasps and giggles rode through the room and Mr Kennedy, in his typically and excruciatingly embarrassing manner continued, “my gosh Ivan you are a big lad. Come on then boyo, give us a flex. Show us some pump”. Ivan’s cute little cheeks burned up even more as he tentatively raised his right arm and flexed into a one arm bicep, his huge hard croquet ball shaped muscle erupting and exploding beside his oh-so-gorgeous mug. At this point my face had turned so red I could have been mistaken for a 5"10 lobster in a school uniform. It was the most embarrassing moment of my life, but also just about the most incredibly freaky nand unbelievably horny thing my eyes have ever witnessed and I haven’t been able to get it out of my head since!!

Now I’m not a religious man, but tonight I felt the need to get down on knees, rest my arms on the end of my bed and say a little prayer. This is how it went; “Dear God. I know we have never spoken before, and I know I’ve never really paid much attention in R.E, nor am I sure that I even believe you exist, but if you can fix it for Ivan, aka the huge, pumped, cuter than cute mountain of Russian muscle gorgeousness/rotten cute, roid stuffed, muscle God of my dreams, to return my love/affection/wanting to cream my undies every time I think of his beastly biceps erupting at the front of the class (i.e. every fucking second of the day) then I promise I will never EVER bunk off school and spend the day getting drunk in the park on a bottle of vodka stole from my parents cabinet again, I will stop sneaking into my sisters room and reading her diary, and my days of stealing the pick n mix from Woolies when the security guards not looking will be over. Oh and I will stop forging my moms signature to write notes for getting out of P.E. And I suppose I’ll try and stop screaming "get out of my fucking face you bitch I hate you & I wish I was adopted”.

Failing that God, if you could fix it for Ivan to have some kind of temporary amnesia, long enough for me to convince him that we are life long lovers and he is head over tan painted heels in love with me, thus allowing me to touch, feel and squeeze every single one of his indecently pumped outrageously big muscles before fucking him untill there’s nothing left but a pair of posing trunks and a damp patch, then I promise I won’t ask or want for anything else again".

Right diary, I’m off to dream about whatever’s hiding/bulging underneath Ivan’s shirt. My guess? A perfectly pumped pair of the most lickable pecs and the cutest little set of ripped up skin stretching abdominal muscles bursting through his tummy. Oh and if my own tummy isn’t covered in sticky white love cream when I wake up tomorrow morning it will be a fucking miracle!

Love muscleaddict, aged 17

  • Manager: Excuse me, you can't just help yourself to anything you fancy. This is not a buffet, that's theft. I could have you arrested for that.
  • Nathan: Really? For eating some pick'n'mix?
  • Manager: You're paying for the sweets in your mouth and for that drink.
  • Nathan: Beverley. Isn't that a women's name?
  • Manager: Pay up and leave.
  • Nathan: Haha, Beverley. That's brilliant. Why did your parents give you a girl's name?
  • Manager: This is your final warning.
  • Nathan: Maybe you were born with both sets of genitalia. You know like a chick with a dick.
  • Manager: Can I have security to the concession stand?
  • Nathan: But I’m guessing your parents wanted a boy so they kept your cock and sewed up your clunge.
  • Manager: You’re coming with me.
  • Nathan: I’m being assaulted by a chick with a dick! Help me! They sewed up his clunge! They sewed up his clunge!