sport slacks

A photo of Jeffrey Dahmer entering the courtroom.  This picture highlights his singular rigid posture: spine ramrod straight, shoulders squared, and arms stiff at his sides.  He isn’t wearing glasses because he took them off every day before walking into court so that he wouldn’t be able to see the faces of the people around him.  Dahmer displayed an outward appearance of calm emotionlessness, which The Washington Post unkindly went as far as to call “necrotic vacancy,”  throughout his trial, barely talking or even moving and keeping his eyes firmly downcast.  “His only reaction to testimony seems to be faster blinking as he looks at his lap or the edge of the table,” observed The Milwaukee Journal.  Contrary to the media’s perceptions, Dahmer’s lawyer Gerald Boyle stated that his client was actually extremely distraught and tense, declaring, “He’s a very desperate young man. He is very troubled, and he is in a high, anxious mood because of what has happened.”  Indeed, Dahmer’s lack of any response at all in court, and his comments in psychologist interviews, give off the impression of a man so intensely private and ashamed that he would rather disappear off the face of the earth than suffer the scrutiny of the public gaze.  “I just feel like imploding upon myself, you know?  I just want to go somewhere and disappear,” he confessed to psychologist Kenneth Smail. 

Dahmer’s appearance throughout his trial reflected his increasingly fragile, agitated mental state.  Initially, he was so anxious about how he would look in front of the cameras that he managed to persuade Detective Patrick Kennedy to loan him an old outfit of his son’s in lieu of the standard orange jumpsuit.  As the weeks passed and the stress of having every single one of the (literal) skeletons in his closet being dragged out into the open and minutely examined took its toll, however, Dahmer lost the energy to maintain his looks.  He gained a substantial amount of weight, neglected to shave or wash his hair, and wore the same ill-fitting brown sports coat and slacks for several days in a row.  Dahmer was so intent on making himself as invisible as possible in court that he refused even to speak in his own defense, saying, “I’m not going to get up on the bench and say anything, that’s for sure, no way … I’m not going to sit up in front of all those people and try to answer questions.”

Normani NEEDS to be in IVY Park's next campaign

Irene is not the Mom Friend. Irene is the Dad Friend. Emotionally awkward and distant, but just trying her best. Likes old music sung by middle aged men with guitars. Not good at making friends but very good at making coworkers! Efficient, a hard worker, needs seven binders to do everything. Has an emotions chart on her office wall like a grade school psychologist. Will very lightly and stiffly pat you on the shoulder, ask you if you want a piece of candy and then coach you through signing all the forms you need to do for HR. She unironically calls people “champ!” and “sport”. She wears slacks and button downs to the grocery store. The only social media she uses is Facebook and LinkedIn. Whenever she feels out of touch with today’s youth she tries to hand out company branded fidget spinners. She is so attentive and polite that you can’t help but love her, but the longest personal conversation anyone has ever had with her was about hockey. Her powers of empathy with other people are considerable, but she’s still got that shy-dad-at-a-PTA meeting air about her and she owns a plaid flannel bathrobe. 

anonymous asked:

Okay so! What about a fic with klance where maybe their college has some kind of party or smthng for Halloween and they're gonna go but one of them (maybe lance but honestly I'd be happy with either) has been pulling too many all nighters recently and ends up with a miserably stuffy, sneezy head cold? Idk, I just need more college au/autumn klance content. (I know I keep saying it but seriously, your writing is so good and I'll probably use it to motivate me to study so then I can read today)🏫

(I’m dropping this and running bye)

“So, how about this?” Keith strolled into the living room, sporting a black turtleneck, slacks and a red sweater with the star trek insignia tucked in the upper right corner. He looked uncertain as he glanced over at his boyfriend on the couch, who had his nose stuck in a physics text book.

Lance slid his book down to his lap, a smile creeping across his face as he gave the outfit a head to toe evaluation. “Babe, that’s 80’s Star Trek.”

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Dress Codes and What They Actually Mean

Have you ever started a new job and been told that what you’re wearing doesn’t fit with “business casual”? Or have you received an invitation to a party with a dress code like “garden attire” or “creative black tie” and had absolutely no idea what to wear? Dress codes can be really confusing, especially when you’re growing up and suddenly have to deal with a lot more than everyday casual. But worry not, because we’re about to break them down one by one so you’ll be the best (appropriately) dressed at your next party.

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loufok  asked:

Arthur Weasley and a computer? :D

In all of his days volunteering at the library, Reggie Lister had never seen such an interesting character as the elderly man who had shown up precisely when the library opened and asked to use a ‘personal commuter’. He had red hair (rapidly turning white), a fuscia sports jacket, green corduroy slacks, and a tidy little tin lunchbox sporting dancing marigolds.

“Do you mean a ‘personal computer’, sir?”

“Perhaps! My daughter-in-law – very smart girl, my wife and I are so pleased Ron chose her – was telling me that you could look anything up on the ‘web’. Tell me, what exactly do the spiders do?”

Reggie blinked. “Uh, no, there are no spiders involved, we just call it that because the information is all interconnected, I guess. If you follow me, though, I can show you how to use a computer.” 

The man looked slightly disappointed, but brightened once more as he thought of new questions. He kept up a steady chatter (introducing himself as Arthur Weasley) as Reggie led the way to the bank of computers on the fourth floor.

“Here you are, Mr. Weasley, just sit in that chair there while I boot the computer up.”

Concerned, Mr. Weasley pointed at his highly polished brown dress shoes. “Was I supposed to wear boots? The only pair I have are some old rain galoshes, but if they’ll do I can nip back home real quick and bring them.”

Reggie chuckled and shook his head. He was always amused at the connections the elderly made as they tried to fit new technology into their understanding.

“No, sir, ‘booting up’ just means I’m turning the computer on loading the operating sys – never mind. It means I’m turning the computer on.”

Mr. Weasley nodded in relief, before turning to his lunchbox and withdrawing a small notebook and fountain pen. By the time Reggie had logged into the guest account, Mr. Weasley had written out notes for ‘web’ and ‘boot up’ as well as crossed out the ‘Commuter’ that headed the page and written ‘Computer’.

“Now, this here is a mouse. It controls the little white arrow on the screen – see how it’s moving? Hover over something and click on the left button to select it.”

Looking utterly delighted, Mr. Weasley, after taking a brief moment to sketch and label a diagram for the mouse in his notebook, began playing with the mouse under Reggie’s supervision. Once he seemed to have that well in hand, they moved on to the keyboard (“Why, it’s just like a typewriter!”).

After about an hour of instruction in which Mr. Weasley crawled under the desk to look at the wires connected to the monitor and tower, asked a never-ending stream of questions, learned how to search on the internet, and accidentally inverted the display, Reggie had to step away to check other visitors in for computer use. As he left to help a rather irritated looking business woman, he noted with great amusement that Mr. Weasley was reading a page about the history of rubber ducks with intense concentration, meticulously copying the article down into his notebook.

Perhaps the next lesson would be in using the printer.


Jackie Robinson Day→ April 15th,∞ ​

 "The way I figured it, I was even with baseball and baseball with me. The game had done much for me, and I had done much for it..“
- GIF Credit : azul3104

don’t set the world on fire (pt. 2)

◦ Pairing:  Yoongi x Reader
◦ Summary: It’s been seven years since you last saw Min Yoongi and he doesn’t even remember who you are.
◦ Genre: Fallout AU

part 1 | part 2

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anonymous asked:

oHhhhHOLLLY SHIT "I would have followed you anywhere." FOR WARREN 👀👀👀👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

i’m 99% this is my first drabble for warren, so feedback would be amazing!

warren + “i would’ve followed you anywhere.”

Two years, three months, and twelve days.

Two years, three months, and twelve days. That’s how long it’s been, since Warren Worthington III had been presumed dead. Two years, three months, and twelve days, since you had seen on the news that the love of your life was dead.

But here he is now, standing in front of your door; alive, but not well. The years of alcohol abuse to drown out the pain of not being good enough, and the memories of Apocalypse taking his wings and replacing them with the harsh metal, had physically and mentally taken a toll on him. The bags under his eyes are heavier and darker, akin to the thoughts that run through his mind.

It seems like an eternity before he can even bring himself to fucking knock, but when he does, he feels as if his heart is ramming itself against his ribcage.

He already feels his eyes glass over when he hears the faint sound of your voice, calling out ‘coming,” followed by the light patter of your feet. It’s been so long, so long since he’d seen his baby.

When you open the door and meet the man you’ve been mourning for over two years, the warm smile you’re sporting dissipates, jaw going slack; as if he were a mirage, too good to be true.

Fuck, he’d practiced this a thousand times over - but he never figured he’d actually have the guts to face you after these years; all of the times he’d practiced in his head, seems to run out of his mind, as his gaze is steady on yours.

The silence is acute, as you both try to find anything to say to each other that wouldn’t be weird or stupid or angry-

But before Warren can even begin to apologize or anything, your body lurches forward to his, winding your arms around his neck. The propulsion causes him to stumble a little, before regaining his footing; winding his arms around your waist with all the weight of the world, letting the tears wet his cheeks.

You don’t control the sobs of relief and happiness and confusion that wreak it’s way through your throat and into his shoulder. You have so many questions that need answering, but you can’t bring yourself to badger him with them now; not when you have him back, safe and home.

“Why didn’t you come back, Warren?” You choke out, pulling away to look at him directly. Another sob wracks through your heart, at the sight of his green eyes. “I would’ve followed you anywhere.”

In all your years that you’ve known Warren, you have never seen him cry. So when he scrunches up his face and breathes out a shaky sigh, all you do is cup his cheeks and pull him down to you, crushing his chapped lips onto yours.

The kiss is messy and desperate and full of longing and remnants of past memories, and when you pull back he leans his forehead against yours; his messy curls brushing against your face.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” He whispers, anguish laced in his voice. “I’m just - I’m so fucking sorry, baby girl. I’m-”

He’s cut off by his own sob that reverberates throughout the hallway of the apartment building, burying his face in your shoulder.

You know later he’ll give you the answers you need, but for now, you hold him - you hold him and revel in the feeling that he’s back in your arms.


“Uncle Rwooster!” Nalla exclaimed as she ran to Rehvenge who had just walked through the mansions front door and into the colorful foyer, the Moors and Xhex coming right behind him. Rehvenge and his crew had been called over to meet with the King, and since he was headed to the mansion he had called ahead to let Bella know he was coming so they could spend a little time together before his meeting. Bella and Nalla had been waiting him in the foyer. Bella smiled as she looked her brother over, Rehv was dressed like he always was, high end suit, a pair of nine millimeters peeking out from under his sable coat and his red cane. Along with his trademark mohawk and amethyst eyes.  

Rehv ignored the chuckles behind him, although he did give his sister a rueful look as he knelt down to lift Nalla into his arms, his cane clattering to the floor as he fitted her against his chest. She was in a little dark green sun dress that brought out her canary yellow eyes that were currently shining with love and laughter. Her blonde, brown and red curls pulled up high into a ponytail. Nalla really did look like the female version of her father, only softened with Bella’s elegant bone structure.

Bella smiled mischievously at her brother as she gave Xhex and the Moors a wave of greeting, which they returned.Rehvenge was surprised to see how dressed up Bella was. A sapphire cocktail dress that hugged her curves and a pair of black stilettos that easily topped her out at 6'5", her mahogany waves were pinned up high on her head, showcasing her swanlike throat. She was a knock out.

“Bock Bock” Nalla said in a giggle as she lifted her hand to pat the short mohawk that he usually sported. Rehvenge gave an exasperated sigh, but tilted his head down so the little girl could have better access to his hair.

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“You have the power to show a character’s emotional journey through their costumes.”

“On my show, I think you can see it best with the characters Leo Fitz and Jemma Simmons [who are both agents and main characters in the show]. In the beginning, they were more colorful, they wore more patterns, things like cardigans. Then in season three, Simmons experienced post-traumatic stress disorder, and we reflected that in her clothes: We stripped away all the patterns, all the color, and kept it very simple, to show her headspace. We also showed how much Fitz had grown up by replacing his cardigans and sneakers with slacks and sports coats.”

-Ann Foley- (costume designer for Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D)

but have you thought about Kent Parson as a platform diver???

  • Kent comes from a family of swimmers
  • His father was a member of the USA Olympic Team (and coincidentally met Kent’s mother, a Canadian gymnast, at opening ceremonies)
  • So lbr Kent learned how to swim before he learned how to talk
  • His family had an olympic-size in-ground pool in their backyard
  • which is basically where KP spent all of his free time because being submerged in water and the smell of chlorine was just… so calming…
  • So he wasn’t sure how to tell his parents he just… didn’t enjoy swimming as a sport??
  • He started slacking off at practice to the point where his coaches had to move him to the slow lane
  • But being at a pool pretty much all the time meant he got to watch the divers during their dryland warmups
  • He doesn’t tell his parents when he first quits swimming to try diving for a little while
  • They actually don’t find out until the JO coaches try to recruit him
  • And everyone suddenly discovers that Kent is a naturally talented diver

[more under the cut]

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The Doves High School Host Club

“Doves” like the bird. For Aphrodite. Catch my drift?

Word count: 1,873

Nico didn’t hate school, not entirely. He liked class, and it was better than the public schools in the area. But the counselors at Doves High School relentlessly “encouraged” him to join some kind of extracurricular activity or “club”.

“Get involved!” his assigned counselor cheered, “Have some fun during your teenage years!”

Nico couldn’t exactly say, “No, never, and by the way, I hate all of you rich pricks.” He only attended Doves because of the generous scholarship that Phoebus Apollo, owner of the elite (and subsequently high upper class) school, had granted him. He had to find a club. The only scholar student in the whole damn school better appear to be enjoying his free ride to Doves.

His search for a club was rather boring and overall disappointing.

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