all the one direction boys have private instagram accounts to share pictures with their families and close friends without worrying about the tabloids picking it up or management getting angry
niall’s isn’t too different from his public one, lots of golf, guitar, beer, and famous friends, only sometimes he posts nature pictures from his trip around the world captioned by quotes from kerouac or 100 years of solitude. harry, ironically enough, comments HIPSTER on every single one.
harry’s is almost all pictures of his favorite people – lots of louis, liam, and niall, his mum and gemma and robin, nick, ed, tomo campbell, nathan followill, the corden family, etc etc. they aren’t particularly aesthetic or groundbreaking, but they remind him of his favorite memories and that’s all that matters
liam’s has so many shirtless selfies that louis unfollowed him months ago
louis’ is a strange mix of videos of himself trying trick football shots, unflattering pictures of his sisters and brother and harry, screenshots of instagram memes he knows harry will do his honk laugh at, and so many selfies of himself with the butterfly snapchat filter that even his mum texts him to say baby… ENOUGH
once, harry bought an art piece and didn’t realize it was an oil-painted dick joke until after he got home, hung it up over the bed, and found louis collapsed with laughter in front of it a few hours later
niall can play the violin, and although it’s not his favorite, he does play john denver songs for harry when he asks
louis, harry, and niall have each helped design one of liam’s tattoos
speaking of, niall actually does have a tattoo, but he hasn’t told anyone about it because he got it on his ass while drunk and doesn’t actually know what it’s supposed to be
he calls in harry, the resident Nonsense Tattoo Expert, to see if he can figure it out, and best he can tell it’s a lopsided question mark surrounded by misspelled lyrics from the Black Eyed Peas’ Where Is The Love?
“don’t worry, nialler,” harry beams, patting niall’s shoulder. “i’m sure the next person to see your bum won’t be weirded out by it or anything. though,” he adds in a whisper, “just in case, maybe you should stay on the bottom the whole time.”
louis and niall have a years-long bet going that they refuse to tell the others the details of. all anyone knows is that the winner gets to choose what color the loser permanently dyes his hair: niall wants louis to go green and orange, and louis plans on making niall do a rainbow.
harry and liam have dedicated themselves to figuring out how to make them both lose so they both have to dye their hair. so far, they’ve been unsuccessful.
louis’ laundry once accidentally got mixed with his sisters’ and he spent an entire day wearing one of lottie’s crop tops because he just thought one of his shirts had shrunk. when lottie pointed it out, he refused to give it back.
“think i’ll keep it, actually,” he says, looking down at his bare stomach. “like the breeze. also, are bellybutton rings out? think i’d like one of those, too.”
the next time he goes in for a tattoo, he asks liam sparkes to pierce his bellybutton while he’s there. liam thinks louis is joking. louis is not joking.
when harry sees, he spends the next few days hiding all of louis’ shirts and cancelling their plans so that he can spend the whole time following louis around their house, staring at the sparkly anchor on his belly.
louis and harry are the reigning champs of ping pong while on tour. they tell everyone it’s because the dream team is so connected and in sync they can’t possibly lose. the truth is, they bought their own ping pong table and practice when they’re at home so no one can beat them.
harry is teaching liam photography when they have time. he’s not too bad, though harry hasn’t quite figured out how to get him to stop taking pictures of his dogs long enough to try any other subjects.
the four of them went to a Coyote Ugly saloon in Vegas once just because they were curious (and harry had made them watch the movie a few nights before, claiming the Can’t Fight the Moonlight scene would honestly change their lives)(it honestly did). when they woke up, niall was wearing daisy dukes and a pair of boots he didn’t recognize, louis’ torso was covered in phone numbers and lipstick prints, liam was nowhere to be found, and one of the management team had to tell them to lay low until they could make sure all the videos of harry stripping on the bar were removed from online.
they found liam later, wearing a straw hat and his flannel shirt tied up under his chest, passed out in the rental they’d taken to the saloon with a puppy they also don’t recognize
one weekend, they recreate the Shout Out To My Ex video and send it to perrie, complete with louis in a leigh-inspired netted dress, liam in a silver negligee, niall in thigh-high black boots with four inch soles, and harry finally gets a chance to try out that leather bodysuit he bought ages ago
I really wanted to finish this tonight, but I am so sick right now I don’t think I can sit up at my desk anymore. But here’s a preview of it, and I’m happy happy happy with Pidge as Eleven. Next time maybe i’ll draw her with eggos.
Renee Davis, a 23-year-old Native woman, was shot and killed by Kings County (Washington) deputies on Friday (October 21). Renee was five months pregnant and struggling with depression. She texted a friend to say that she was “in a bad way.” That person called the police, who went to Davis’ home on Muckleshoot Tribal lands. The cops knocked but received no reply so they entered the house to find Renee holding a handgun. Rather than de-escalate the situation, the cops ended up killing Renee Davis.
Bath bombs’ primary ingredients are a weak acid and a bicarbonate base. These are unreactive when dry, but react vigorously when dissolved in water to produce their characteristic fizzing over a period of several minute carbon dioxide bubbles on bathers’ skin gives a tickling sensation some find pleasant.
It’s about Alexander Armsworth, who is a normal boy until he sees a ghost of a girl in his barn, warning him of an impending disaster. This leads to him to become a local hero. But when he explains that a ghost warned him, it unburies the story on how she came to rest on their property, far from her home in New Orleans, Louisiana. He takes it upon himself to take her body home to New Orleans. (x)
Summary: Reader and her friends are in a store when a group of men come to rob the place. Reader finds a hiding place and call the police. Detective James Barnes will help her through this terrifying situation.
Word Count: 922
A/N: Based on this post. Took me a while to sort it, but here we go. It’s more like a silly sort of fluffy story, nothing too oppressing. (I don’t own that gif)
Trying to appear unaffected, James walked back towards the
police van where Sergeant Brock Rumlow was waiting for him.
“Taking a break to call your girlfriend, Barfs?” Rumlow
asked with a large insincere smile. “Do you realize that we’re here to work? To
catch the bag guys?” He moved his face a little closer, taunting James.
James’ jaw clenched, he had to bite his tongue to stop
himself from replying something nasty. Rumlow was his direct superior and a
daily nightmare. He couldn’t disobey his orders.
“I was talking to a witness.” James walked past him and
entered the van.
“A mystery witness? Please, tell me more.” Rumlow followed
when I told my parents
of the racist lady
who called me a nigger
my father told me:
“this is why I’ve always told
you to work harder,
you’ve got to be better than them
to get to where they are”
and I wonder if it’s all worth it
if his masters and pHd makes it all worth it
if a better future for me and my siblings
is worth putting all this energy in a country
that won’t even claim you as one of their own
i wonder what’s worse
being told you don’t belong by someone who
migrated just a decade before your family or
by one whose ancestors played part in the destruction
and instability of your home?
when I asked the police
why he was late
he said: “I was busy dealing with
and I wonder if they would
still have been busy if i left
out the fact that she
called me a nigger when she laid her
hands on me
or that I was wearing a dark hijab
when I described myself
“busy giving out traffic tickets?”
i ask him
he doesn’t take it well
but I wonder if he’s angry
if racism makes him angry
or if he’s used to hearing about it by now
“you’re 90 minutes too late, it’s not an
emergency anymore” I tell him
i wonder how many injuries, dead bodies
and broken souls could have been avoided
just by treating emergencies as an emergency
i wonder if they would have still believed me
if I hadn’t forced myself to enter 7/11
in hopes to get it all on tape
i wonder when we’ll be done
having to take precautions
because we’re black or because
we’re muslim or because we’re
women or because God forbid
you’re all three and you’ll stay
wondering what fuelled their hatred
i wonder when those with privilege
will realize speaking up instead of
watching it all unfold
makes all the difference
i wonder when they’ll stop being
surprised when I tell them shit like this
i wonder when it will stop
i want it to stop
the next day my mother asked me
if I’ve ran into her again
i wonder if she realizes that its not just her
that there’s more of her
some vocal but most silent
and that that’s the scariest part -
that they must know their bad thoughts
are fuelled by misplaced anger and ignorance
yet they don’t bother decolonizing their minds
Hello, everyone. I just wanted to bring to your attention the account @catnoirfanforever. Their account is full of reposted Miraculous Ladybug art, and while they don’t seem to mean any harm, artists deserve to know if their art is being reposted here. Please spread the word!