Christmas Eve


Harry was already up and dressing himself by the time my eyes opened to Christmas Eve.
Regardless of the fact I had woken in the middle of the night when I’d heard his gentle whimpers, it felt like I’d had a pretty solid sleep. Waking felt natural, welcomed and easy.
I watched as Harry buttoned up an extravagant, oversized blue shirt, flowers woven into the material, climbing up towards the top as though his head was the sun.

Keep reading

lynai654  asked:

hi! do you guys have any tips on binding for people with larger chests? thanks!!

Sorry, I have a smallish chest so I’m not the best person to help. I listed what I could come up with. Does anyone else have tips to share?

1. Find companies that offer plus sizes or even custom sizing

My absolute favorite transitional apparel shop, gc2b, offers sizes up to 5XL. Some companies also offer fully custom made binders, but naturally these are are bit pricier. I did some research and the Underworks 997 seems to be quite popular and effective for binding bigger chests. Full binders work definitely better than half ones.

2. Never look down on your chest from above.

Your chest will look significantly curvier from your viewpoint than in the mirror. By looking at your chest only in the mirror you get to see your chest the same way as everyone else does and might even avoid bad dysphoria.

3. If a binder doesn’t give you the fully flat result you’re looking for, please please please don’t double bind, use ace bandages, or tape.

Take care of yourself and listen to your body. If something hurts, stop doing it and find the option that suits you better (my suggestions are either a custom made binder or clothes that help create an illusion of a flat chest like button-downs, woven shirts, or heavy fabrics).

Plus remember, cis guys aren’t completely flat either!

4. How to get the binder on?

Getting the binder on might prove to be quite a challenge. Stay patient and ask someone to help you if possible. There are a lot of useful youtube videos that give first hand tips and techniques for getting your binder on.

That’s all I can come up with on my own. Sorry! Please someone share more tips? 🙏

dragontails89  asked:

How about 86 for the prompts for days? Thank you :)

Sure thing! Thanks for the prompts! ;D

The Pendant

Hiccup ducked under a hanging chain, rattling it on his way to grabbing a set of tongs off the wall. He tested them before grabbing the heated sword in it’s grip with his right hand, grabbing the large hammer with his left and bringing it down and sending ringing pounds against the glowing red medal.

He huffed against the heat, because it was stifling hot in the forge. Didn’t help that today- out of all the days to have Inferno break- was one of the hottest day on Berk, really the only day that they had an actual “summer day”. The teens had even gone swimming down by the bay since it was so hot, and Hiccup hoped to finish this sword soon so he could go and join them. Perhaps he could even convince Astrid and the gang to go swimming with him in the cove, since he enjoyed the shadiness of the trees and how cool the water was there more so then the salty water of the ocean.

But he still needed to finish Inferno so it would be ready to take along when they returned to the Edge, and he would have it handy if they ran into any unfriendly foes or dragons. Thinking of dragons, Hiccup glanced over at Toothless who was drowsing by the doorway, the dragon eyeing the door wearily as though longing for the semi-cool fresh air outside.

“Go ahead, bud.” Hiccup urged, waving the heavy hammer towards the door. “I’ll be done in a bit.”

Toothless huffed thankfully before climbing to his feet and trotting out the door and quickly disappearing from sight. Hiccup sighed and turned back to Inferno, pushing it against the anvil and trying to reshape the broken medal.

Gods it’s hot… he thought tiredly. The heat and all the work was beginning to make him feel drowsy, and he really didn’t want to fall asleep before going for a swim…

He paused for a moment and looked down at his sweaty and thick red woven shirt, pondering if he should dare to remove it in a rather public space as the forge. But then he remembered how Gobber used to do that himself back in the day, but then the blacksmith had grown smart enough to wear a sleeveless shirt and therefore never did it anymore…

But Hiccup still wasn’t that smart. He had never liked exposing his arms- because he’d been so scrawny- but at this point he was just too downright hot to care. He felt sweaty and sticky, and the shirt was beginning to rob against his skin and irritate it…

He set the tools down and hastily pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it in the corner before picking up the tools and resumed the pounding on the sword. After a couple minutes he began to cool down, and felt more comfortable as he moved about without the wet fabric of his shirt rubbing against him.

He smiled in satisfaction and leaned back, eyeing the sword happily before setting it aside to cool. He would leave it for now instead of dunking it in the water, which would sometimes make the medal loose some strength. For now, he could go and take that swim he desperately wanted (and needed, to be honest. He was nothing but a sweaty and smelly mess) then return to make the finishing touches.

He was about to go and retrieve his shirt when he heard a light tap on the door, so he turned and smiled when he saw a flash of blonde hair and a blue shirt- sure signs that Astrid had come for a visit.

She stepped around the large anvil and flashed him a smile, freezing in mid step when she caught sight of him. Silence fell, only the sound of the cackling fire filling the room.

“Oh gods!” Hiccup exclaimed, realizing that he was still shirtless. “G-g-ive me second!” He rambled, making a mad dash towards his shirt. But he realized with a groan that it had landed in a large bucket of water used for cooling weapons, and he knew it would be pointless to try and pull a soaking wet woolen shirt over his head. It would cling to him and literally be a waste of time and energy.

“Uh… hold on!” He called back before stumbling towards the room in the back he used for all his notes, looking about wildly for any signs of fabric. Anything. He was sure he could even make a pair of trousers work at this point.

“Hiccup..?” came a voice from beyond the room. He frantically rummaged through his desk, groaning with despair when he realized not a scrap of fabric was in sight.

“Hiccup! Get out here right now!”

“Coming, Astrid!” he called back, once again resuming the search. Nothing!

“It’s fine, Hiccup. I just came from seeing Snotlout shirtless, I think you’ll be fine.” Astrid called out again.

Hiccup groaned before spinning around and opening the door, blinking down at Astrid for a moment, all words fleeing his mind and for a moment, he swore he’d never even learned the alphabet.

She was staring at him with wide blue eyes, and it was only then that he realized her hair was dripping water all over her shirt, dampening her shoulders. That led to another thing, her armor was gone. Now she only wore a soft brown skirt with her leggings and boots, along with her blue tank top. Shoulder guards were gone.

“H-hey…” Hiccup stuttered, finally finding his voice. “What’re you doing here?” He tried to sound nonchalant, but knew he failed miserably by the too high pitched squeak in his voice.

“Hey.” She smiled up at him, flipping her dripping bangs out of her face. “I came to see if you wanted to come swimming, it’s too hot to be working here today…”

Hiccup laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck before realizing that it was probably better to just… keep as still as possible until he found a shirt. “Haha, actually… kinda figured that out on my own.” He gave a small gesture to his upper half.

“You… you shouldn’t be so ashamed you know.” Her eyes flicked down towards his chest. “You look a lot better then Snotlout or Tuffnut.”

He offered a lopsided grin. “Thanks… I think…”

“That was a compliment.” she laughed lightly, her eyes sparkling.

She grinned again before biting her lip, once again doing a flip of her head. “I-I also brought you something…”

Please don’t be Yaknog! he thought desperately. Anything but Yaknog! He wasn’t sure he could keep it down this time… especially since it was so hot.

“Um, here.” She shoved a small bundle into his arms, and he glanced up at her in confusion. She eyed him before flicking her gaze at the bundle, urging him to open it.

“I-I got you a present…” she added, more like an after thought. “Open it!”

Hiccup smiled at her before unfolding the cloth, revealing a strange medal and leather cord, thonged together. He pulled it out, noticing first off how a black scale was attached as a pendant at the bottom, the medal beads and a black feather hanging around it.

He looked closer, and realized with a small gasp that the black scale belonged to a Night Fury- Toothless to be exact- and that the leather chord was intended to go around the neck. It was made well, guaranteed to hold up for a long time.

“You… did you make this?” He asked in bewilderment, looking up at the nervous girl before him.

“Umm… yeah- I-I did…”

Gods, she’s beautiful when she stutters…

“I’ve been working on it for awhile, and I didn’t really know if you’d like it or not. Since it’s-it’s not exactly manly…”

“What?” Hiccup asked, truly puzzled. “Why… why is this not manly?”

“It’s a chord for the neck- a necklace sorta…” She stumbled over the words, added with a blush. Hiccup grinned even more at the sight of the pink tint of her cheeks, loving the way she got embarrassed. For once it was her who was blushing and not him…

“Astrid, I love it.” Hiccup interrupted. “It… it means so much more to me because it’s Toothless’s scale, and…” He held it up to his neck, flashing her a grin. “It’ll look good with my leather, huh?”

She smiled and blushed a bit more, making him realize again that he was still without a shirt. It was his turn to blush now, and he lowered the necklace back into his palm.

“And it’ll remind me of you, since you made it.” Hiccup added softly. “Thank you Astrid.”

She smiled again before leaning forward, and he knew what she wanted. He gently pressed his lips against hers, the kiss quick and short but sweet none the less.

“Now, I really need to go find a shirt.” Hiccup said before stepping away, slipping the chord over his head as he did so. “Ugh, which means I have to walk through town… like this.” He gestured to himself again with another groan.

“Here, I’ll run up to your house and find you a shirt. But I thought you were going to go swimming?”

Hiccup paused, then laughed when he realized what she said was true. “Oh, right. I guess we could go straight to the cove then.”

“I’ll go get the others.” Astrid said with a smile before running off and disappearing out the door.

Hiccup looked back down at his neck, letting his fingers play with the scale and feather. How long had it taken her to make this? It looked complicated… especially since it was so small and she never liked needle work in the first place. Which was what made this little token so much more special.

B-DAY (Dirty Dancin’) {Baekhyun x Reader}

Originally posted by blondejongin

Inspired by Tank’s “B-Day” feat. Chris Brown


Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: I dunno, fluff? You’ll see when you read it…

Sypnosis: Byun Baekhyun proves to be the best dancing teacher you’ll ever have.

A/N: Baekhyun’s outfit in the fic is the same as the one in the gif.


The club was not at all a place you’d ever envisioned yourself to joyously be at. Drunken dancers, languid strippers and puddles of harsh-smelling liquor in random spots of the floor. That was not at all your taste. Not one little bit. You were more of the type to lounge on the couch, hair shoved in the reprimands of a tight rubber band as a lazy bun sits stiff above your head, Big Bang Theory episodes and MTV specials blaring nonchalantly. Clubs just weren’t your thing.

It had been a birthday present from your friend Mei; a trip to the club surely would rid you of the stress of college exams and make you ultimately let go of everything that’d been worrying you. Even when you tried to tell her that you were just fine, she’d shush you and tell you to get ready, shamelessly encouraging you to wear something nice.

It was a fairly big club with two doors for sleek escape on each side. The bartender and his palace of drinks were on the far side, a few feet away from the hyperactively dancing people. As soon as you walked inside, you noticed a great majority of those people were drunk. In fact, it seemed the ones who weren’t drunk attracted your attention, specifically some of the guys. Even though you’d come with no intention of a drunken body leaning against yours, you couldn’t deny most of those guys were cute; particularly a leather-jacketed blonde in the center of the mob, brown eyes flickering through the crowd without much interest. Your eyes found him easily. He didn’t look much like anybody else in the club nor did he carry the similar aura. He was a mysterious guy, but one that still held a glow of innocence and youth.

Mei went off to fetch drinks and you sat in one of the chairs at the bar, playing with the small plastic cups for shots. The song playing was not at all familiar, carrying a heavy bass that sent tremors through your ears and seeping with dirty lyrics that made you cringe mentally.

You felt a tap on your shoulder just as the song faded into incoherent murmurs of the next and briefly turned your head, eyes still fixed in a somewhat haggard daze. It was the blonde from the dance floor, sandy hair in a rumpled heap, jacket limply hanging on his shoulders, piercing brown eyes staring deep into yours. No words formulated for a moment, sinking in a drizzled heap to the bottom of your throat.

He was so handsome. More striking than any man you’d ever seen.

His lips curled into a smile as he stared you down. “I was only looking for directions to a hotel, but I think I might stay.”

You smiled too, completely puzzled on why on Earth you were blushing for a man you didn’t even know. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “What’s your name?”


The man adopted a puzzled expression. “Are you from here? I feel like I would’ve heard of a beauty like you around here.”

“I go to the community college here. I’m a freshman.”

“Freshman?” His eyes twinkled lucidly in the glowing lights of the club. “So you’re a newbie?”

“You could say that.”

“Hm.” The man extended a hand. “I’m Byun Baekhyun. I just graduated from Boston Tech.”

“Boston?” You raised an eyebrow, stiffly shaking his hand. “That’s all the way up north, isn’t it?”

“Cousins live there,” Baekhyun droned, staring as the bartender fixed another drink. “I majored in Communications.”

“Cool.” You didn’t know why, but you found yourself getting interested in Baekhyun. “I want to be a psychologist. It’s always been on my mind.”

“Ah,” Baekhyun nodded his head. “That’s not bad. You look like the psychology type.”


“No problemo.” Baekhyun reached over your shoulder to collect a small plastic cup slid his way. He winked at the bartender, flashing him an ardent smile. “Cousin Vinny,” he explained in response to your quizzical expression. “Real tyke.”

“Isn’t that a movie?”

“And the name of my cousin, yes.” Baekhyun took a quick swig of the drink. “He’s the only one not in Boston. Is that your friend there?”

You turn to see Mei ambling over, two drinks in hand and a comical smile playing on her lips.

“Here’s a little birthday drink,” Mei hands you the glass as Baekhyun coos with fresh surprise.

“Tonight’s your birthday?”

You nodded. “Nineteenth.”

“Ah,” Baekhyun took another swig. “My birthday was last week. Just turned twenty.”

“Hm.” You went to press the glass to your lips, but Baekhyun suddenly set out a hand to stop you. He raised his own half-empty cup above his head.

“To (Y/N).” The two of you clinked your glasses together and swept down a hearty swig.

“Happy birthday, princess,” Baekhyun set down his empty cup. “Hm…and a perfect song comes on.”

Shinee’s “Feel Good”, a song you actually knew, was blaring through the speakers, heavy bass pumping through the club.

Baekhyun slid out a hand. “Wanna dance, birthday girl?”

If there was something you absolutely did not do, it was dance. You were horrible at it. You could never sway your body to the flow of the music just right and you weren’t at all confident.

“I’m going to have to say no,” you gently declined. “I don’t dance.”

“And I don’t give offers,” Baekhyun intoned, “yet I made an exception.”

You looked at the crowd of bustling people, grinding and dancing against each other like the drunken fools they were.

You curtly slid out of your chair and Baekhyun slid a hand to the small of your back, idly guiding you to the dance floor. The strobe lights above you splashed to every end of the floor as you and Baekhyun faced each other, the chorus busting out loud and true:

“I can make you feel good.”

Baekhyun’s eyes twinkled playfully as he bobbed to the music, one hand gripping your hand, the other tapping against his thigh. He seemed to be one of these types of natural dancers, who found themselves fluidly moving their bodies to the smallest of beats and the shortest of tempos. The look in his eyes said it all. It was as if the music had consumed him: his eyes seemed to have grown darker, his hips had instinctively started responding to the rhythm, swaying gently to the beat.

“Like this song?” you said to distract him from the fact that you weren’t moving.

“Love it,” Baekhyun muttered, his body naturally grinding into yours. “You?”

“Yeah,” you insentiently tapped a foot, but you didn’t feel a spark of excitement like what was coursing through Baekhyun.

“You’re not a dancer, are you?” he said, a warm smile that showed his pearly white teeth living on his face. You shook your head and he tenderly caressed your hands. “I can tell.”

“Sorry if I’m wasting your time.” You had warned him.

“Oh no. The fun’s just beginning.” An impish grin grew on his face as the song droned louder through the speakers. “Now tell me, what’s your problem with dancing?”

“There’s no problem, I just don’t like it. And it doesn’t like me.”

Baekhyun’s grin didn’t sweep off his face. “You mean you don’t feel the passion in it?”

His body moved closer to yours and the leather jacket slid smoothly off his shoulders, revealing the long-sleeved woven white shirt beneath. You watched as the jacket slowly hit the ground and a drunken bearded man nearly tripped over it.

Baekhyun’s eyes were fixed directly on you as he suddenly let go of your hands, stepping back into the throng of people dancing the night away.

“Watch me,” he whispered. “Watch how I move.”

He started with slow, gentle movements first. He zealously swayed his hips left and right, eyes shut against the tantalizing beat of the music, and let his body speak for itself. Sometimes he would helplessly thrust his hips through the air, eliciting a soft grunt as his face momentarily scrunched up. Next, he would slowly grind his body to the beat, hips rolling to and fro as he just let the music overtake him to far, unreachable heights. That’s how it seemed to Baekhyun. Like the moment he set his feet down on the floor, the music drifted him to a new era, a new place, where he was just himself, dancing and grinding leisurely to the tune of his ecstasy.

Sometimes the heat of his fervor would get too much for the both of you, and Baekhyun would quickly stop his movements, billowing harsh, ragged breaths through those thin pink lips of his as his eyes flittered open to find you still there.

Still watching him.

Then, regaining his previous confidence, he’d go faster, mixing all his movements together to form a silent, fluid oath to the song itself; his own physical affirmation of his love to this lenient form of unforgivable expression. The song ends with a few last cordial notes of adieu and Baekhyun rolls his hips one last time in farewell, stopping completely as the song briefly changes.

Gentle guitar riffs.

Sultry susurrating vocals.

It’s the opening of The Weeknd’s “Wicked Games”.

Another frisky grin briefly marks Baekhyun’s alluring features as he advances towards you again, eyes flickering with excitement. You’re still partially breathless from Baekhyun’s performance, feeling like his passion took you on some kind of ride and now you’re descending from your high.

“Your turn.” His nose brushes against yours and he deviously licks his lips, slowly planting his hands on your hips.

“You don’t expect me to do all that, do you?”

Baekhyun laughs, smoothing out your dress with his hands. “It wouldn’t be a bad show.”

You sigh, obviously disgruntled on how you’re losing an incredibly hot dance to an incredibly hot man. Baekhyun, reading your tension accurately, gently rests his forehead against yours.

“There shouldn’t be any stress. Dancing is like meditation: it’s a way to free yourself beyond the confinements of humanity and in the hands of your own happiness. There aren’t any rules and there isn’t pressure. Just be you.”

It was as if Baekhyun’s words had planted some type of fire inside of you. You closed your eyes, letting your body soak in the music as the bass seemed to drum in your own heart.

Your hips had a mind of their own; they rose to meet Baekhyun’s so the fabric of his shirt met the sleekness of your dress. You felt him move carefully, almost sinfully against you, hips rubbing delicately against yours as the song droned, igniting a deeper fire in your stomach. You tapped your feet as Baekhyun led you gingerly into the next move and you followed easily, swaying your hips to The Weeknd’s sleek vocals as Baekhyun gently mouthed instructions in your ear, making your body move to his liking as if you were his own little robot. You rocked and swerved your body supplely against his, letting the music sink deep into you and never seep out. Hands on your hips, Baekhyun swayed you gently from side to side and you flittered open your eyes. You stared deeply at each other, still moving fluidly to the tune of your passion as Baekhyun leads you into more amative motions of euphoria. He slowly twirls you around, admiring the sleek locks of hair falling gracefully onto your back. You run your hands down his sinuously rolling hips, feeling the skin underneath slightly tremble from your touch.

The song ends and you feel the fire burn out just that quick; the ashes in your stomach stir nonchalantly as Baekhyun lets go of your hand.

“Better now?”

Words aren’t needed for response. Instead, you lightly shove him backwards, watching him stumble weakly, and draw out a few moves of your own, gently thrusting your hips to the sound of a more upbeat, funky number.

Baekhyun laughs in response, watching you twirl lucidly on your heels. He reaches out to stop you, tenderly placing his hands on your waist. “So we’re good then?”

Baekhyun gives you the time of your life. You dance in all sorts of ways at all sorts of speeds, going from laughing and sniggering together, to grinding and using your bodies to smoothly caress each other with such slowness it’s almost painful to the eye. You’ve never felt such adrenaline, never felt such glee at the sweat pouring from your temples. One last song rings out its call to the night and Baekhyun, grinning his large and playful smile, leans down to pick up his jacket. He fondles with the pockets, pulling out a thin sheet of white paper and extracting a fine pen from his pocket. On it, he scribbles what you insist is a cell phone number, an apartment address, and maybe even the number of one of those cousins up north for extra, needy contact.

“Hopefully I’ll see you around, Dancing Machine.” He stuffs the note in your hand with quick flourish. “I’d love to give you more dancing lessons.”

You feel your heart drum painfully as you curl the paper in your hand. You’d only just met Baekhyun and yet you felt so attached to him.

“Don’t forget me, princess,” he hugs you close to him, pressing a soft, chaste kiss upon the crown of your head. “Good night.”

And then he’s striding across the club floor, jacket nestled under his arm as you gaze after him, pleading, hoping that he won’t leave.

Midway across the dance floor, he turns around, a small smirk on his face. Without a word, he tosses you his jacket, flinging the smell of harsh-smelling cologne through the air, and you catch it, feeling the smooth leather between your hands.

He smiles, one last cheerful smile that’d brought you to happiness in the first place, and then he briefly disappears behind the mob of people you can’t even label as “dancers” anymore. He’s gone past the door with a swift movement of the hinge and off he vanishes into the night.

Mei ambles over to you, looking curious. “Why’re you holding your arm like that?”

You look down at your arm tightly clutching Baekhyun’s jacket. “Like what?”

“Like that. Like you’re holding something.” Mei points to your arm.

“Cause I am holding something,” you intone in a puzzled whisper. “Baekhyun’s jacket.”

“Who?” Mei furrows her eyebrows.

“Baekhyun.” Your heart seems to pulse wretchedly at the sound of his name. “The guy who was just in here.”

Mei’s head cocks in confusion.

“The guy I just danced with,” you say desperately as Mei starts to look a bit alarmed. “You saw him. He said happy birthday to me!”

“I-I didn’t see anybody. I saw you dancing out on the floor though. Great moves.”

“Thanks.” You stare down at Baekhyun’s jacket still tucked underneath your arm. You couldn’t have just imagined him, you couldn’t have.

“Look!” you suddenly cry out, thrusting the note Baekhyun had given you towards Mei’s face. “He gave me this! His number!”

You unfurl the paper, Mei curiously leaning over your shoulder, and you note it also leaks with his strong, harsh scent. What greets you is not what you expect. Written in jumbled black letters is:

I’ll always be your muse. I’ll always be your flame.

Happy 19th birthday, princess.



Originally posted by yixingofficial

Hm… I can’t tell if it’s the Larry keys / landing in LA boyfriend shirt, or is it the true 2014 sheer woven boyfriend shirt. Also, lots of little holes in it now? Like…. little claw marks? 🐶

Carol Color Story 1: Carol’s Coral & Therese/Carol’s RED

Department Store:

Carol is wearing a coral silk scarf. It peaks out from under her mink (heh) when she meets Therese for the first time. This is a sign of sexual interest and lust. Therese’s hat is red = passion, love. She’s already in her head in love with Carol the moment she sees her.


Sitting down, Carol’s coral silk scarf is wrapped around her neck…but it also bursts out through her jacket, over her heart, and flows downward. Therese is wearing black and white.
As Carol is talking to Therese, touching neck and preening, she shows her ear…which is wearing a coral and gold earring.

Now we as the audience can see that the coral has travelled from her chest to up to her head.

As Carol is leaving Therese, she gets into the car with Abby and wraps the scarf around her head. Now the lust has gone to her head, traveling from her heart to her head. Her mind is on Therese, she’s infatuated, interested, lusty.

Harge’s Parent’s House:
There is no coral scarf to be found. She’s now in her grey suit.

Carol’s House:
There is no accent color. This is Harge land, heteroville. Neither Therese nor Carol are wearing accent colors at Carol’s house, as their lust is sublimated. Carol wears a blue dress then a green sweater over it, cool colors.

We don’t see much red up until this point, it’s mostly coral. The color of lust, but not love or passion.

Lawyer’s Office:
When meeting with her lawyer, Carol does wear quite a bit of red - enveloped in her coat and under her jacket is a beautiful red shirt. I think this is what Sandy Powell referred to as Carol’s armor, the red that she wears into battle. Maybe on Carol it means something different than it does when Therese wears it. 

Therese’s Roof:
Carol is enveloped in a red coat. This is when she asks Therese to go on the trip with her.

Hotel room, night before Carol leaves Therese:
Carol is wearing a coral polo, woven shirt. They make love for the second time, Carol wears coral.

Therese’s Apartment:
While packing for the trip and fighting with Richard, Therese picks up a red sweater and then after he storms out, delicately packs it into her suitcase. This is her love of and for Carol.

When Carol and Therese are at a diner on their trip, Therese wears the same red sweater while giving Carol the “Easy Living” record, again signifying her love for Carol. Red here is the love between them and Therese is filled with it. Carol interestingly, wears green. 

Carol in a Taxi:
Everything is washed out and without accent colors for a long while until Carol spots Therese again wearing: red shoes, red jacket. Red is the love they share between them. Carol realizes her love for Therese, that Therese is the one.

Carol at the Lawyer’s office:
Carol wears no accent colors, her nails are nude. 

Tea Room:
In this scene the entire room is washed out in beige, white, ivory. Carol wears grey, Therese in brown and black. The only accent color is on Carol’s nails, coral again. Peeping out, but no longer as a scarf or a hat. Just a touch of coral. The ember is there however, as she places her hand on Therese’s shoulder - coral is the only color we see at that moment. 

We see Therese at the party, everything is brown and black and beige and muted. EXCEPT…as we see Therese rushing to the Oak Room, her purse is RED! OMG! The only color in the Oak Room is the red purse Therese clutches. Amazing, Therese carries the love they have between them.


Red and the coral represent two separate things. Red is all about Therese and Carol (how they feel about each other, the love they share, this thing they have together that all people in love share) while coral is all about Carol’s lesbianism and sexuality.

Now that I think about it, when Carol wears her red hat, coat, and red shirt to see the lawyer - I think it IS all about the stirring of love she feels for Therese. Red is not about anything other than Carol and Therese, it has nothing to do with Harge, Abby, or Rindy. On the day Carol sees the lawyer, she’s already…very infatuated (let’s say in love) with Therese, not lusty coral, but the red of love, of something real and more. In her altercation with Harge the night before, he had reacted violently to both Therese and the implication that Carol’s lesbianism wasn’t just a one time thing. When she calls Therese asking to see her again, Carol has already decided that she will do what she wants, and that’s to keep Therese within reach.

When Carol and Abby have drinks, the red coat is splayed over the suitcase she has bought for Therese.

Not only is red the only color that Carol and Therese share, it jumps between them - they never wear it at the same time. I would say red is their relationship, a delicate thing that each carries throughout the movie.

WWII Veteran - Part 2 (Steve x Reader)

Originally posted by sonicaru

Summary: Part two of WWII Veteran

A/N: This is for @thaniya82 who asked for a part two. 

I paced the small room nervously. Stopping every one in a while to look at the closed door.

Where was he?

I was mid-step when there was a soft knock on the door from the other side. Slowly the door was pushed open.

“You wanted to see me,” Granddad smiled stepping into the room. Granddad was dressed to impress. His usual slacks and woven shirts were replaced by a black tux and bow tie.

He immediately saw the distressed look on my face.

“You aren’t getting cold feet now are you,” Granddad asked. He was trying to be playful and cheer me up, but the nerves were getting to me. “Come,” he said waving me to the small couch, “let’s talk.”

The white gown swished as I made my way to sit next to Granddad.

“You make one beautiful bride,” he smiled taking my hands in his. “Not as beautiful as your grandmother on our wedding day, but still beautiful.”

I couldn’t help the small smile from playing on my lips.

“Tell me,” he said. “What are you thinking about?”

“Everything,” I breathe.

One year. That was how long Steve and I dated before he proposed. Granddad was the first to know, or better yet he already knew. Steve was a man of manners and traditions, so before he popped the question he asked Granddad for permission.

Steve told me Granddad’s exact words had been “Lets drive to Vegas tonight.”

“You know,” Granddad began. “Your mother almost left your father at the alter too.”

“Mom never told me this,” I frown.

“No one knew, just me. She called me into her dressing room, just like you, and asked me to call the whole thing off while she jumped into the limo.”

“Sounds like something Mom would do,” I smile.

“And do you know what I said to her,” Granddad asked. I shook my head in response. “I asked her “Do you love Rob” she said yes. “Does Rob love you?” again she said yes. “Does Rob make you happy?” again yes. Then I asked her “Do you want to marry Rob?” and without a hesitation she nodded and said yes. Your father and her had twenty wonderful years of marriage before your fathers accident, and not once in those twenty years do I think your mother ever regretted not jumping into that limo.”

I was still silent and looking down at my feet.

“Y/N,” Granddad said quietly. “If I ask you those questions right now about Steve, what would be your answer?”

“Yes,” I smile turning to look at Granddad.

“Good,” he smiled pushing himself to stand. “Then lets not keep the groom waiting any longer. I can’t wait to start telling people my granddaughter is married to Captain America.”

I shake my head smiling and stand up dusting off imaginary dust from the white fabric of the dress. When I look at Granddad he is smiling kindly at me and has his arm held up for me to take.

“Let me fix your bowtie,” I say reaching for the bowtie. My hands never get to make contact with the bow when they are swatted away.

“There is nothing wrong with my bowtie,” he frowns. “I did it myself.”

I roll my eyes at him knowing that it would be a battle I wouldn’t win and instead take his arm and hold my bouquet of flowers with my empty hand.

The entire reception hall was in laughter as Granddad gave his speech. He of course wasn’t one to forget to mention that it was him that introduced me to Steve. I buried my face behind Steve’s large bicep as Granddad went on to tell more stories. Steve only leaned back in laughter as Granddad told them how I thought Steve was going to be an old man when I met him.

“Don’t laugh,” I grumble at Steve. “You are old.”

This only made Steve laugh louder.

“Now I want you two to know,” Granddad said turning to look at Steve and I. “None of us are getting any younger around here, and I would like some great-grand-babies sooner rather than later.”

“Lets get through tonight first, and them we can disuse babies,” I tell Granddad.

After Granddad finished his long speech it was Steve’s turn to be laughed at as his best man Bucky took the microphone, and was followed by Sam, one of the groom’s men.

As the night drew to an end I danced with Steve under the dim lights of the reception hall. We swayed slowly to the music while the guests danced around us.

“Are you enjoying yourself Mrs. Rogers?” Steve said lowly into my ear.

“I am Mr. Rogers,” I smile looking up at him. “For someone who claims to have never danced before, you are doing a pretty good job.”

“I have my wife to thank for that,” he smiles. “She is an amazing teacher.”

“Well your wife is lucky to have such a husband as yourself,” I laugh.

“Trust me,” Steve said leaning down until our noses brushed. “I’m the lucky one.” His warm lips captured mine in a slow tender kiss.

When we pulled away I rested my head on his tuxedo-covered chest and we continued dancing to the slow music.

Part 3


Steal His Look: Aph England Posing as an Italian to Escape a POW Jail and Thinking He Doesn’t Look Like an Ovbiously English Loser

Tzarelli Mens Light Grey 3pc 2 Button Italian Designer Suit - £246.09 ($399.99)

Platinum Ties Men’s ‘Pink Weave’ Tie - £58.18 ($94.56)

Burnished Brown Dunhill Penny Loafers-UK -  £461.44 ($750)

Armani Collezioni Micro Dot Woven Shirt - £60.28 ($97.98)

“Romantic” Pink Diamond and Chrystal Men’s Cufflinks - £468.82 ($762)

Top Quality Natural False Hand Made Human Hair Men And Women Fake Eyebrow 10 pairs/lot  -  £328.76 ($534.09)

TRESemme Climate Control Mousse, 10.5 Ounce -  £35.49 ($57.68)

Scotch Magic Tape, ½ x 450 Inches - £1 ($1.20)


steal her style: Ina Garten

denim shirt: woven from Egyptian grown cotton and died with the wildest indigo grown in South Carolina 

pearl earrings: gathered from the bottom of the Persian Gulf

tomatoes: picked fresh from the finest gardens in Italy during the winter’s harvest

but if you can’t store bought is fine

The children of the forest, sometimes referred to simply as the “children” are a mysterious non-human race that originally inhabited the continent of Westeros long before the arrival of the First Men during the Dawn Age more than 12,000 years ago. The giants call them woh dak nag gram (‘little squirrel people’). They call themselves those who sing the song of the earth in the True Tongue.

Little is known about the children. They are a mysterious and magical people who have not been seen by humans for thousands of years. Tales describe them as diminutive humanoid creatures, dark and beautiful, at their tallest no larger than a human child. They are long-lived. Their true names would be too long for human tongues.

The children did not use metal, weave cloth or build cities; instead they lived off the land, using stone implements, wearing bark leg-bindings and shirts of woven leaves, dwelling in caves, crannogs, and hidden tree villages. Males and females both hunted side by side. The children had no books, no ink, no parchment and no written language.They were a people with a deep connection to the land. The children wielded obsidian weapons and bows in battle, but also used powerful magic.

Legends say the children of the forest were gifted with supernatural powers and magic; having power over the beasts of the wood, the ability to wear an animal’s skin, the skill to create music so beautiful as to bring tears to the eyes of any who heard it, the greensight ability (although maesters believe that the greensight was not magic, simply another kind of knowledge) and the ability to speak to the dead. It was the children who carved the faces on the weirwoods to keep watch over the woods. They believe that their wisdom had something to do with the faces in the trees.The children of the forest believed that the weirwood trees were gods, and when they died they became a part of them