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itsmoonphobic · 4 years ago

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Dream SMP characters and my interpretation of them:

-Techno: The smell of Dirt and soil,blood,wine and old books. Silk pillowcases,golden jewelry,mosaics,stained fingertips, grand staircases,scented candles,storyteller,lazy smiles, secretive,slow dancing,sad resting face,elegant language,cold weather,confident,doubts himself,philosophy, messy braids,glowdust flakes, poetry,graceful movements,neat and cursive handwriting, greek mythology, oriental music,pale skin,libraries,sarcasm, long-lasting friendships,quotes,frosted windows,layering clothes, know-it-all,rude but endearing,pile of papers,cherry blossoms,muted colors,overthinks everything,devotion,logical thinking,insomniac,scattered mind,castle walls,laid back,tired eyes,long debates,show over tell,lingering touches,rulebreaker, dirty palms,old movies freezing feet,old habits,late nights studying,early riser,skips meals,eye bags,tea with milk,velvet jackets,dimly lit by streetlights,ancient wood floors,flowy curtains,art museums, gravely morning voice,echos in the middle of nowhere,sleepy whispers,nostalgia everywhere,red lipstick stains,loves animal more than people,calm and quiet, healing stones,parked car conversations,sharp jaw,obsessed with memes,violins,doves, doves,floats instead of walks,unbroken promises,twisting and winding hair around fingers,nail biting, repeating phrases,mist secret scars,rumors,always wearing earphones,metaphorical, emotions fragile as a flower, speaks with his eyes,fluttery eyelashes,dog lover,forehead kisses,calligraphy,pretty knives,cares too much,lopsided grins,messy desks,talks for hours no,rolling his eyes all the time,powerful strides,wants to conquer the world,slender hands,good grades, dusty book covers,wax stamped envelopes,vintage mirrors

-Phil: The smell of cold air,pine trees and sandalwood.Dead birds and mothballs,stops on the sidewalk to make sure nobody is left behind,morning person,herbal teas,crows,eats breakfast outside,constellations,family portraits on walls, chirping and whistling,crime documentaries,cool father figure, graveyards,weeping angels,meteor shower,many friends but only a single close one,contagious laugh,fragile teacups,fog, early mornings,fuzzy blankets,springs of thyme,bare feet, empty streets,rosemary stems,flickering lanterns,burnt wood bowls,feather collector,antique silverware,a sky full of stars, skylights,torn pages,overstuffed bookshelves,makes you feel comfortable whenever you talk to him,organized,full of ideas, believes in magic,gives the best advice,lost in his own way, warm hugs,scrapbooks and bullet journals,old cars,soft features,daydreaming,bright eyes,getting lost in the woods,moonlight,self knitted sweaters, stargazing on tailgates,the universe,hand in hand with wandering hearts, garage sales,questioning life but feeling at peace,attic bedrooms and haylofts,pursuing science and desiring art, photo albums,hopeless romantic,dark chocolate,open windows and quirky morning rituals,actually knows what brunch is, succulents,a kind-hearted loner,free-spirit,plaid button-ups, always ready to let you rant,abandons projects quickly, complicated past,bold moves,goes with the flow,aims for things that seem unachievable,lives in extremes,knowing smiles,constantly busy with something new,soft touches,love at first sight,naps alot,subsequent tea stains,sparkly eyes, abandoned barns,handwritten notes,feather quills,fascination with the sky,whispering secrets to the wind,great with kids, takes a backpack everywhere,hugs trees,big winter coats,road trips,knows tons of medical info,bites his nails,comforting presence,lost souls,city lights from a high rise

-Wilbur: The smell of fire,smoke,caramel and coffee. Stands up for people who can't for themselves,emotional wreck,loves his family too much but still yells at them,soft turtlenecks,sits in different spots every time he eats dinner,chipped nailpolish, songwriter,probably depressed,wakes up in the middle of the night to write down random thoughts,heartbroken teenager songs,dark psychology and deep meanings,globes and maps, wants to travel and make lots of memories,curls of steam, earbuds in,spattered ink,good singer,keeps to himself,old music and dusty vinyl,the type of person that you could stare at for hours,loud laugh,ride or die,dreams about his future, believes in fresh starts and new beginnings, messy and tangled hair,summer nights,soft features,deep thinker and dimples, having crushes,musicals and theater, half finished diaries and laptop stickers,mixtapes,quirky love notes, secretly kinda insane,always ready for coffee,thrift shops, beachy waves, bonfires,probably drives too fast,cutoff jeans, cream and sugar,nude colors,always creating new problems for himself, fights for equality,long debates and tired eyes, tapping a rhythm and humming quietly,spends all his time on social media,beanie galore,trench coats,foggy glasses,cozy sweaters, dancing around his room to the Beatles,looking out the window when the sun is setting,birkenstocks,guitar strumming on a warm summer evening,bells and chimes,subtle sadness, the feeling of diving into a deep pool,perfect proportions,too many playlists,holding hands,pretty boy,sew on patches and bomber jackets,candid photos,warm sun on bare skin,dancing silhouettes on the sunsets,beach walks at midnight,messy but cozy room,different mood every minute,singing his favorite song at the top of his lungs,sharp grins,haunted houses, paranormal stuff,late night snack runs with friends,explores creeks and lakes,double checks everything he does,walking through hot sand,backyard campfires,acoustic songs,photo booths,train platforms at night,s'mores,sun bleached arbors

-Tommy: The smell of plastic,fresh cut grass and musk. Does the bare minimum at School,unless genuinely interested in a topic,doodles on the side of his paper,movie marathons,empty coca cola bottles everywhere,rope swings,glossy nailpolish,lots of energy,life of the party, kidcore ,can always make you laugh,loves photography,eyestrain and bright colors,bruised knees and untied shoelaces,paperballs in class,brand new red converse,denim jackets,pins and clips,chalk drawings in the middle of the road,every text contains emojis, garden sprinklers,graffiti,wreck this journal,vibrant dyed hair, scribbles and highlighter pens,carnivals,involed in many things, watermelon flavored anything,loves to climb trees,screaming on playgrounds,oversized t-shirts,stained glass windows, anklets,skateboards and hula hoops,milkshakes on the front porch,social butterfly,always in a hurry,pinkie promises,tangled headphones,melted crayons and gummy bears,bean bags and hummingbirds,spinning around till he gets dizzy,chaotic and crazy yet so fun to be around,rushing into things too quickly, roller coasters and derbies,doesn't get knocked back by criticism,cans of fizzy drinks and neon lights,skips school,tye dye shirts and nitendo games,impulse and class clown,sticks stickers on stranger's things,pickpockets his close friends,has to carry a walkie-talkie around with him at all times,sleepovers and sneaking out through windows,pockets full of change and random buttons,stands out in crowds and makes friends easily, pretends to be fearless but is scared of the littlest things,trips and rips his jeans daily,uno cards,social butterfly,music discs, fights with his family but would actually kill for them,broken handwriting,flannels and jerseys around his waist

-Tubbo: The smell of honey,fresh bread and citrus. Lowkey soft, hugging a teddy bear,pressed flowers,eats alot of bread,big hoodies,fairy lights and blanket forts,prank calls while holding in your laughter,beeswax candles,sidewalk dandelions,gentle cuddles on the couch,pastel yellow and cute doodles,flower crowns and diasy chains,plays the ukulele,fascinated by bees and supports local coffee shops,outdoorsy sunshine addict, sparklers and iced lemonade,festivals with fireworks and fireflies in mason jars,homework done as soon as its assigned, watercolor paintings,giggling uncontrollably,long hugs and lazy cartoon afternoons,park dates and forehead kisses,cutting pants into shorts,messy wild hair and pear lollipops,has tiny random braids decorated with golden yarn,hearing the crinkle of leaves underfoot,suprise piggy back rides,adult swim shows and lip gloss stains,being goofy without meaning to,bounces in his step and stops to pet stray animals,baked bread and washi tape bracelets,bike rides and summer picnics,rolling down a hill in the spring and bringing home grass stains on his jeans, waving at someone across a crowded room,spontaneous hang outs and self made clay rings,sitting in the warm sunlit grass on early spring mornings,rock painting and hiding them for other people to find,picking apples from trees but needing to be held up in order to reach one

-Ranboo: The smell of peppermint tea,denim and rain. Is there for everyone but never themselves,regrets things they said but can never find the nerves to apologize,clumps of mascara and winged eyeliner,writes down every tiny thing in notebooks, loves children and their friends,forgetting that they already grabbed a waterbottle,drawing on condensation windows,rainy days and puddles,always on the edge of a breakdown,elevator music and long limbs,old tape recordings and cassettes,moss covered ruins and greenhouses,wanting to be in multiple places at the same time,different colored socks,long hugs and head pats,reading under the covers,collages and spray paint,record players and walks alone through the woods,loves playing by creeks and collecting stones,always wondering and worrying about things they shouldn't,vivid dreams and leather jackets, silver necklaces and piercings,snoozing their alarm clock, seeing the moon in the early morning,blurry photographs and windswept hair,downpours and comfortable silence,wrapping gifts and handing them over with shaking hands,sitting on a rooftop and spontaneous plans,lofi sounds and long train roads,deja vu moments,randomly dissapears and sipping tea, cold concrete and city parks,tickets and brochures from places they visited,dusty parchment and desperately trying to be a good person,wikipedia articles and lace-up boots,often loses track of time while talking to people they love,sings to the radio and avoids conflict if possible,can't sit still for five minutes, perpetually in an emo phase and knows more than they let on, hawaiian shirts,henna tattoos and sparkling water,sleeping in complete darkness and the relief of falling into bed,midnight thunderstorms and anticipation for the coming day,lucky charms and the sound of rain hitting the windows

-Dream: The smell of apples,eucalyptus,vanilla and green tea. Freckles and smiley faces,glow sticks and wrinkled linen, probably a really good singer,wild laughter and jellyfish, popular,tanned skin and cruising with the top down,doesn't take shit from anyone,analytical and self assured,beachy waves and dreamy sunsets,running barefoot,likes being active and on the go at all times,sassy and dramatic as fuck,dream catchers and hammocks,glow in the dark stickers on his phonecase, feisty and a sense of danger,brought home stray cats when he was a child,falling in love with strangers,waking up early and continue laying on the bed,golden hours and 4pm naps,soft aching hands burried in messy hair,center of attention,static and heavy breathing,old percy jackson books under the bed, throwing pebbles at the closed windows of his friends' room, retro diners at 2am,adrenaline junkie and nighttime thriver,will go insane if cooped up indoors for too long,deadlines till last minute,oversleeping and coming home past midnight,naturally a really good surfer,hugs from behind and neck kisses,checking the fridge at 1am,ice cream in bed and cat cuddles,always picks up over facetime

Might make more parts for some of the other guys :)

#mcyt #minecraft youtubers #minecraft #tommyinnit #dreamsmp #wilbursoot #philza #mcytblr #sbi #technoblade #dream #dreamwastaken #ranboo #tubbo #moon is back with all of his awesomeness losers #long post

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spaceyantique · 5 years ago

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five’s a crowd [beatles x reader] part four

chapter summary: George is sweet and comforting in the aftermath of the Battle of the Coffee Machine, and you’re not sure why your heart beats so fast being near him. Meanwhile, you’re getting closer to strangling John and poor Ringo doesn’t want to be involved. And it’s high time to make up with poor Paul.

warnings: bit o’ angst. way less of a crack fic oops i got emotionally invested haha

word count: 1.3k of FEELINGS

also peep john’s thighs in this pic hoy moly sorry i’ll take my john stan self elsewhere

one | two | three

masterlist

When the dust settles, you’re in your bedroom again, headphones on and listening to the Crickets on the highest possible volume. You’re kneeling on your floor, spreading out all of your papers across the ground, sorting them between the kind you used waterproof ink on (the Survivors) and the ones that you didn’t (the Deceased). Your hands are shaking, from some combination of exhilaration from shouting at Paul and anger and general despair for your now-hopeless midterms grades. You try to spread out the Survivors so they have enough room to air dry, but there’s just not enough room in your broom cupboard of a bedroom.

Due to the skull-rattling music of the Crickets through your headphones, you see George’s feet before you hear him. He’s wearing those fuzzy socks that you’d gotten all the boys for last Christmas (his are green) and he’s standing with one foot in the room like he’s afraid a single word from you could blow the door clean off its hinges. His hair is still curly, and you feel a strange rush of warmth in your chest.

You remove your headphones and he visibly relaxes. “Yeah?”

“I wondered if you needed any help.” George’s voice is soft. You nod at him and turn your focus back to trying to salvage a particularly wet notebook. He crosses your room slowly, taking great care not to step on any of the Survivors. You scooch over a bit as he reaches you, and then he plops down next to you, both of you leaning your backs against your mattress and surveying the damage.

“And I--” George’s eyes are focused on the floor by your foot. “I wanted to say sorry. Even though it was both me and Paul, I think… I think I could’ve handled it better.” You do a little half-laugh at that, blowing air out of your nose.

“Thanks. For apologizing,” you say, spreading the notebook out in vain hope of recovery. “And yeah, that could’ve gone better.” George nods, and you swear he leans slightly closer to you.

“What a day,” he sighs, slumping a bit more against the bed.

“What a fuckin’ day, indeed,” you agree, before a wave of despair overtakes you. “God, I’ve still got midterms starting Monday.” You curl your knees into your chest, wrap your arms around your legs and bury your head on top of it all.

“Hey,” George’s voice is even softer as he says your name. “It’s all gonna be alright. In the end, at least.”

You manage a weak noise in response, trying desperately to stop yourself from crying out of sheer frustration. George hesitantly drapes an arm over your shoulders and he’s so warm that it almost makes you forget about the lump in your throat.

“It won’t last forever, see. This week might be bad but we aren’t in it forever. We won’t always be in uni. You’re smart enough with or without these notes. And if it goes badly, these grades won’t matter forever.”

You sniffle, lifting your head a bit to rest your chin on your forearms.

“All things must pass. Whether it’s good or bad, and when it’s gone, there’ll be new things. And they’ll go too. So it’ll all be okay.” George punctuates each word of his last sentence with a shake to your shoulder, and you smile a little despite yourself.

“All things must pass,” you repeat in a soft voice. George grins, showing off those vampiric teeth.

“Right. ‘Sides,” George leans over to grab one of the Survivors in front of you, and in doing so, he presses his side to yours. He’s warm there too, and you feel strangely glued to him. “They look sort of cool now. Vintage-like.”

He holds the page up for you both to inspect. He’s right, honestly, it looks like when you had to ‘age’ printer paper for a school history project when you were about ten.

“Would you say it’s gear, though?” You deadpan, and George groans.

“Never gonna let me live that down, huh?”

You tilt your head as if to consider dropping his embarrassing slang as blackmail, but when you feel the tips of George’s curls brush your temple, you feel as if someone has sucked the air out of your lungs with a vacuum. You sit back up with a jolt and George’s arm falls from your shoulders and you’re left with the distinct sensation that the ground is spinning away from beneath you.

Calm down, Sandra Bullock, you think. It’s low blood pressure, just breathe.

“I think I should talk to Paul,” you blurt. “Make things right, y’know.”

Y’know. Since when do you say that? What’s gotten into you?

Dehydration, your brain supplies helpfully.

George looks a bit taken aback by your sudden change of direction but nods still.

“Probably a good idea,” is all he says. You’re still breathless and practically reeling, so without thinking, you wrap your arms around him in a quick hug.

“Thank you,” you say, still holding him close, but all George can think about is the smell of your shampoo lingering on your hair and how he hopes you can’t feel his hands shaking as he hugs you back.

As you pull away, you flash George the brightest smile he’s ever seen and suddenly his heart has jumped straight out of his chest into his throat. You pull yourself to your feet and, lithe as a cat, you step around the Survivors and disappear into the hallway, leaving George to calm his racing heart. As he listens to your footsteps recede, he’s struck with the sudden, crucial realisation of his feelings. His heart leaps again and all he can think is a resounding

oh fuck.

You enter the living room to find John and Ringo halfway through a game of cards. Ringo shoots you a sympathetic look and John throws his hands up in mock surrender, snatching up a paper napkin to wave like a white flag.

“We’re innocents!” John cries, and you roll your eyes.

“Piss off, Sergeant. Where’s Paul?” He’s noticeably absent from the common area, and the light is off in his and John’s shared room (which is directly off of the living room/kitchen).

“Cafe down the street, ma’am. Licking his wounds, ma’am.” John salutes you sharply with each “ma’am” and the expression on Ringo’s face rivals Jim Halpert’s most irritated looks on The Office.

“Piece of work, you are,” Ringo mutters, tossing another card on the pile.

“Hold on, if I’m a Sergeant, what’s Ringo?” John scoffs at Ringo’s play and looks through his cards again.

“Dunno. Lieutenant maybe?” You reply, pulling your shoes on. John salutes you again and he breaks into that insufferable shit-eating grin.

“How’s about George?” Now John’s leaning over the table at you, still grinning widely.

“Why’d you say his name like that?”

“Like what?”

“You know.”

“Sorry, birdie, I don’t.”

“I think you do.”

“I promise I don’t. Ringo’ll tell you, it was perfectly normal how I said it. Won’t you, Ritchie?” John nudges Ringo, who suddenly looks like he’d much rather be somewhere else. You turn your gaze to him too, and he sighs.

“Sorry, can’t say, because I know how to mind my own business.”

John throws his hands up again with a whoop.

“Oh, K.O.!” He crows, and you roll your eyes again.

“Okay, I’m choosing not to address you. It’s a choice,” you say, tuning out John’s hysterical laugh as you turn on your heel and leave.

“I’m going to find Paul!” You shout, and John yells something about you getting your eyes stuck up there if you keep rolling them, but by then, you’ve shut the apartment door behind you and you’re engulfed in the cold evening air.

#five's a crowd #the beatles x reader #the beatles #beatles fic #george harrison x reader #ringo starr x reader #paul mccartney x reader #john lennon x reader #john #paul #george #ringo #dee writes #crack fic #fluff #slow burn #modern au #modern beatles au

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dippedanddripped · 5 years ago

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Eric Emanuel lives and works in New York’s Garment District, not too far from the factory where he makes his eponymous label.

“I set my whole life up here,” he says. “I live here, my office is here, the factories are here, and I get to see the madness all day.”

The madness occurs every Friday, where Emanuel releases a small drop of products on his website, where they usually last about a few seconds before selling out, much to the chagrin of his hundreds of thousands of Instagram followers. His line consists of many sportswear staples that characterize other independent streetwear labels: hoodies, T-shirts, sweatpants, and even some thermals in the cooler months. But the one thing he’s absolutely nailed? It’s gotta be the shorts.

Indeed, whether it’s solid colors or out-there prints that range from florals, paisleys, or an insane print of the New York City skyline, Emanuel has become synonymous with some of the best above-the-knee knickers on the market. And unlike the other New York Knickerbockers, Emanuel’s shorts have been big winners for his brand. In the past couple of years, he’s gone from hometown hero to global collab king, working with beverage companies like Mountain Dew, sneaker companies like adidas and Reebok, and now the Philadelphia 76ers basketball team on an array of covetable gear.

Emanuel’s personal uniform usually consists of a pair of his popular mesh shorts, a vintage tee, and a Yankees fitted. As a flex he’ll finish off the fit with a pair of his collaborative Reebok Club C sneakers, one of many models he’s done with the Boston-based sportswear label. But he’s also open to stepping up his game by switching it up with a pair of Gucci loafers, a clear co-sign of a trend that’s been spotted on Instagram. Then again, as Emanuel points out, part of the fun about his flagship product is it really isn’t that serious.

“I think that’s why the shorts have been such a success, because it’s not binary in the sense that you have to wear them in a certain way,” he says. “Wear it however you want, it’s a pair of mesh shorts.”

The king of shorts took a break from running his kingdom to talk about his rise to success, how he found his lane, and other project he has in the works. Ironically, it’s kind of a long story.

Where are you from Eric?

I’m from Syracuse originally, and then I moved here eight or nine years ago to go to FIT for marketing. Towards the end of my senior year I started making jerseys, and ended up running with that.

When did you start your label?

When I was getting out of school I didn’t want to go work somewhere, so I sort of just maneuvered — I was paying to make product off my credit card, I’d then move that balance to another card just waiting for that moment when a product would sell and I could pay the bill. Betting on myself, knowing some day it would work.

When does your shorts story begin?

The shorts would have been three years ago I think. I started with a heavier short — like a very traditional basketball short from Mitchell & Ness. But theirs wasn’t really what I wanted to wear. I didn’t like the big waistband; I didn’t like the weight. So I switched to something that’s practically my lacrosse short from high school — a very basic single layer short. That’s where I found success, but even so I would say it took until the end of last summer for it to really catch fire.

It seems when you do a drop every Friday it sells out instantly. Is that exhilarating or frustrating?

It’s frustrating. You would think that you’d be so excited to sell your product out in a day, that it should be this harmonious moment. Unfortunately, you have to deal with everyone who’s upset they didn’t get it. So I’m trying to find a balance of fulfilling the demand and going a little beyond it.

I had no idea this sort of “cozy revolution” would’ve taken over. Everything I’ve released over the past two months was made in the winter. The quantities were super low and it sold out way too fast. Then we had to stop making shorts for about two months and wait for New York to become a bit safer. It’s been a whirlwind.

How else has Covid-19 affected your business?

I pulled everything forward because I didn’t know where the economy was going. I didn’t know what was going to happen. And it sort of backfired in the sense that I ran out of product, and it wasn’t safe to continue making more until a month ago. That’s when we really hit the ground running. Everyone’s hungry to work, but it was very difficult to figure out how to do it in a safe manner. Now, whatever is made this week is being sold next week. And I’m very lucky that since I make the product in New York so I can sort of schedule it that way. In an ideal world, we would be six weeks ahead.

It’s pretty ballsy to call your product “The Best Shorts in the World,” but there it is printed on the packaging. What separates your shorts from others on the market?

I focused on a product that not necessarily everyone cared about. People would run shorts here and there, but it was never their core item. Instead of starting with a T-Shirt, I went into a market where there was less competition figured out how to own that. Why is it the best short? I think it’s because it’s essentially your favorite short, but a bit elevated. It falls little bit above the knee, you can size up if you want it to be baggier, and it just wears well.

There’s something for everyone. I personally like solid colors, but a lot of people love the patterns. The patterns tend to be motifs that I relate to at the time — sort of where my head’s at. I have an infatuation with rugs, so we ran with it. Luckily others seem to love rugs as well, because they’re probably the top pattern this season.

Speaking of balls, is there a recommended shorts-and-undies combo for maximum breathability?

Uniqlo Airism boxer briefs! I have such an appreciation Uniqlo basics. I’m there like once or twice a week.

At $98 a pop, that’s a good chunk of change, but it’s also not egregious. How do you justify that price?

I think $98 is a price most people are comfortable with given that they’re made in New York. If I had to wholesale these shorts, the retail should be at least $150 or $160. The fact that I do direct-to-consumer allows me to keep it at $98. At the end of the day, it’s not necessarily a “luxury product,” it’s a made-in-the-USA basketball short. It’s important to note that it’s made in New York and all the components are sourced from the United States. I get comments all the time of people saying: “Oh, he’s selling a pair of $10 shorts with a logo on it.” That’s not even close.

It’s expensive to make things here, but the craftsmanship speaks for itself. To speak on the process a bit: The mesh arrives; it’s sent to a cutting room; after that they’re sent to be sewn; a truck grabs them and takes them to be screen printed; another truck grabs them to where they’re steamed/pressed and packaged; and finally they’re shipped.

How does it feel to see people reselling your shorts?

I don’t think there’s a right answer for that. It’s a good feeling to know that your product’s in demand, but I’m also like: “Gee, I wish it went to the people that actually want it.” It’s frustrating when I see it on Grailed or eBay. People have commented that they wish I would do a pre-order so I can meet the demand, but I’m an instant gratification shopper — I want what I bought ASAP!

Beyond shorts, you’ve also done collaborations with New Era on caps, and kicks with both adidas and Reebok, how would you describe the EE signature touch to these products?

The partners I work with are all brands I grew up with. For the most part, I want all of the product I touch to remain as classic as it should. I may throw in my favorite “EE Pink” — PANTONE213C – the color blocking of the original product remains intact.

You’ve also got this 76ers collab coming up, right after another iteration of Iverson’s sneakers. Is it weird to be making basketball shorts when there hasn’t been a season until recently?

I always go back to one thing: Allen Iverson was always number one on my mood board. The recent collaborations are truly a dream come true. The lack of games hasn’t affected my desire for shorts — I love shorts with or without basketball, and whether it’s summer or winter. It’s exciting to see things kicking off this weekend though!

What other collaborations are you cooking up?

The Reebok Club C-EE is up next! My favorite shoe to date: an easy, everyday wear. It’s the first shoe I’ve done that my Mom and Dad can wear often, [laughs] that makes me so happy.

In the past you’ve experimented with fabrics like mohair, leather, and bouclé, both on shorts and sweatpants, is there a dream material you haven’t worked with yet?

I really love cashmere. Cashmere shorts would be amazing, but that seems like a pretty standard answer — so maybe GORE-TEX? That, and and more waxed canvas.

#sneakers #eric emanuel #shorts #allen iverson #streetwear blog #fashion blog

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dopemixtape · 7 years ago

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take a little bit of my heart tonight

“Lucky shot!” Wyatt calls across the table. Surprise gives way to amusement as a wry smile twists across his opponent’s mouth. Lucy ignores the comment entirely, too busy circling the pool table, chalking her cue as she sizes up her next shot. She takes her damn sweet time with it, Wyatt thinks, the way she normally does when faced with a puzzle to solve. But the effort pays off—again. Just like the shot prior, this ball sinks effortlessly into the corner pocket.

Wyatt shakes his head in disbelief and starts to think he’s being had. He takes a long pull from his beer. “You’re cleaning my clock, Preston!”

Lucy sidles up to his barstool all flirty smiles and confidence to stand in the space between his knees. “So it would seem, Logan,” she teases, eyes dancing impishly in the neon bar lights. She leans in and filches a quick kiss, then plucks the bottle from his fingertips to steal a sip of his beer. “I guess you’re a good teacher.”

“Hmm.” Wyatt smirks and splays a hand over the curve of her hip, his thumb teasing the pocket of her jeans. He doesn’t miss the way she subtly leans into his touch or the warmth of her skin radiating through the denim. “Could be that,” he says mildly. Lucy shoots him a questioning look. “Or maybe I’m being hustled.”

Lucy’s mouth falls open. “How dare you!” she scoffs, indignant. “Hustled? Please. If you think you’re getting back this drink after that, keep dreaming.” Eyes narrowed, she drains the rest of his beer to prove her point.

It’s a good performance—much better than the ones she usually pulls when they travel through time—but she forgets sometimes that he knows her better than anyone. Wyatt slips his free hand around her waist and pulls her closer, tipping back his head so he can look her square in the eyes. “Hustled,” he repeats.

“Maybe you’re a sore loser,” Lucy says, arching one perfect eyebrow.

Wyatt huffs out a laugh. “Well, that’s not untrue. But it’s curious timing, don’t you think?”

“How so?”

“During the first two games you were a walking disaster, but as soon as we made our little wager you do a 180 and turn into Fast Eddie Felson?”

Lucy’s brows knit together. “Fast who now?”

“Paul Newman’s character in The Hustler. We went to see it at the Vintage Film Festival at the drive-in, remember?”

Lucy shakes her head in that disapproving way of hers, a moue of disappointment on her lips. Wyatt’s waiting for her to actually tsk tsk him when he realizes his misstep. Shit.

She reaches around him to set the empty bottle on the table. Her lips hover over the shell of his ear, her breath warm against his skin. “The only thing I remember about the drive-in, Wyatt, is being half naked and fogging up the windows in your truck.” Lucy pulls back to glare at him, but it lacks the punch she usually packs when she’s really mad. “I’m glad it was so memorable for you.”

“Lucy,” Wyatt groans softly when she starts to pull away. “Baby, c’mon—you know I didn’t forget.” His hand slips into her back pocket, fingers curving against her ass as he draws her closer. “As if I could.” Her eyes soften and they share a knowing smile.

“Good,” she says playfully, carding her fingers through his hair at the back of his neck and gently tugging. “Now if we’re done with all this hustling nonsense, I have a game to win.”

His lips tick up into a half smile. “Do your worst,” he says, chuckling when she punches his shoulder before slipping from his embrace and turning back to the pool table.

“Say what you will, Wyatt,” Lucy tosses over her shoulder. “This game is mine.”

“And nothing I say is going to distract you?” he asks, getting to his feet.

“Nope,” she replies, tone confident, skirting the table. “I’m in the zone. Calm, cool, and collected.”

Wyatt folds his arms across his chest and watches his girl painstakingly plot out how to get the 8-ball into the pocket to win the game.

Once she finds the right angle, she hinges at the waist and sets her hand on the felt, sliding the cue between her fingers. Lucy lifts her head up and flashes him a cocky grin. “Ready to lose?”

Lord, but he is crazy for this woman. This beautiful, smart, stubborn woman. And he wouldn’t have it any other way. A grin breaks out across his face as he calls out, “I love you.”

Lucy whiffs the shot.

She stands up straight, her face defeated and sad, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. It manages to break his heart and make him feel an inch tall. “Wow. You are unbelievable, Wyatt,” Lucy says flatly. She throws the cue down on the table and rushes out of the bar.

Hindsight being what it is and the fact that he’s reigning champion of putting his goddamn foot in his mouth, he realizes that telling your girlfriend you love her for the first time shouldn’t A) happen in a bar, and B) during a stupid bet.

“Fuck,” Wyatt swears. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He runs after her.

---

Wyatt expects her to be halfway down the block already, but he stops short to find her leaning against his truck, arms folded around her middle, staring down at the pavement. “Lucy—”

“Don’t,” she stops him, quickly swiping at her cheeks and turning her head away. “Please don’t. Just take me home.”

He reaches for her, and Lucy recoils like he burned her, pressing her back flat against the passenger door to put as much space between them as possible. These walls she’s rapidly putting up between them sets white hot panic clawing at his insides. “Let me explain. Please.”

Lucy looks at him then, eyes damp and shiny under the streetlight. God, he hates that he put that look on her face. “Explain what?” she asks. “That you’d do or say anything to win a bet? Got that message loud and clear.”

Wyatt shakes his head. “That’s not what—” he starts, but she cuts him off once again.

“In all the time we’ve known each other, I’ve never known you be cruel, Wyatt. I feel like the world’s biggest fool. Maybe I don’t know you as well as I thought.”

Wyatt’s jaw twitches, her words cutting to the quick. He cannot fuck up the best thing about his life. He won’t. “Okay, Lucy. Stop and listen to me for a minute. You know me better than anyone. And you know that I’m a moron sometimes who says the completely wrong things at the wrong time.”

Lucy snorts at that. “No argument there.”

He steps closer, hands reaching out to rest at her hips. He’s encouraged when she doesn’t pull away. “I did not say that to distract you or to win some stupid bet. I swear.” Wyatt sees a crack in the figurative wall, so he presses on. “I had the best time with you tonight. Just the two of us, you know? Out a bar, getting to be normal for a change. The way we were flirting and teasing each other. And just...all that confidence and swagger you showed while hustling me—and yes you hustled me at pool,” he adds quickly when she opens her mouth to interject.

“Wyatt—”

His heart’s in his throat but he’s determined to lay everything out in the open. She deserves to hear it, and he wants to say it.

“Let me finish. You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met, Lucy. A huge damn nerd, actually, if we’re being honest,” he adds, his lips curving up. He’s rewarded with a watery smile and an eye roll. That’s my girl. “You’re strong, and brave,” he continues, “and hopelessly clumsy.” Lucy huffs out a laugh. “You are also amazingly kind and selfless—and so beautiful that it still catches me off guard.”

One hand moves up to her face, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. He takes a breath, blows it out slowly. “And—I am head over boots, completely and crazy in love with you. Ma’am.”

Wyatt’s no stranger to Lucy launching herself into his arms in one of her fierce hugs, so he catches her and holds on tight. He feels his name on her lips, murmured into his neck before she arches back to look at him. The smile on her face could light up all of California.

“God, Wyatt,” Lucy whispers, then grabs his face with both hands and pulls him into a kiss that makes his head spin. “Okay, three things,” she says once the kiss is broken, her eyes just this side of wild, a ball of frenetic energy in his arms. “One, I promise never to tell Rufus that you think I’m smarter than he is.”

He thinks that maybe he should be offended the first words out of her mouth were about Rufus, but he’s not. It just makes him laugh. “Got it. Our secret.”

“Two—” she starts, then draws one corner of her lower lip between her teeth. “I absolutely hustled you in pool tonight.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Wyatt counters drolly, making her giggle into the night. “And three?” His heart beats faster in his chest, his palms suddenly clammy. He swallows the lump of nerves that sprung up, because what if she doesn’t—

“I love you, too.”

#lucy x wyatt #lucy preston #wyatt logan #lyatt #fanfic #my stuff

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downanight · 4 years ago

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p.s. - for a mobile friendly version of our member groups page, click read more!

STANDARD MEMBER GROUPS

all our standard member groups will be free and available on our launch date! we’ve based these on aesthetics versus traits to make them more flexible for you - please consider them loose rather than a total prescription of what your character needs to be!

BAGEL 🥯

vintage corduroy. rollerskates. peanut butter by the spoonful. thrift store couches. ferris wheels. hand drawn artwork. moodboards. watching the sunrise. camera shutters. undiscovered beauty. well-worn sneakers. banana splits. signing petitions. meditation. wise words. sprigs of lavender. long walks. wire rimmed glasses. humming under the breath. cluttered desks. creases between eyebrows. mismatched socks. happy little accidents. wide open windows. swatches. scratched heads. controlled chaos. spinning endlessly. pressed flowers. staring out the window.

BURRITO 🌯

cracking knuckles. the loudest voice at the table. impatient tapping. long term plans. 5am alarms. firm handshakes. sleek cars. dark blazers. polished brass. structured pants. avocado toast. belgian chocolate. annual gym memberships. my way or the highway. black coffee. dramatic sighs. whiskey on the rocks. swipe left swipe left swipe left. moodboards. neat lists. withering stares. asleep at the desk. ambient lighting. no room for mistakes. first place trophies. rehearsed speeches. hardwood flooring. never say never. late night cigarettes. ticking clocks. grasped hands.

COOKIE 🍪

blanket forts. home-cooked meals. words of encouragement. fireworks in the summer. hot fudge. black and white classics. unfinished thoughts. fuzzy socks. lost items in an old coat. hitting snooze over and over. nostalgia in everything. large families. ocean waves coming to shore. deep breaths. salt stains. juicy peaches. earthen dishware. chamomile tea. flour smeared cheeks. pumpkin spice. walks in the woods. blossoming carnations. slender jewelry. foreheads pressed together. slow jazz. filled calendars. warm cookies. unexpected gifts. fantasies.

FRENCH FRY 🍟

creased maps. raging waterfalls. unwashed hair. instant coffee. one way tickets. sunsets over the desert. root beer floats. half smoked cigarettes. grass stained jeans. dark chocolate. eye roll emoji. 3% battery. crowded concerts. sarcastic greeting cards. acid trips. candlelight. old posters. midnight swimming. warm musk. driving with the top down. burritos with extra guac. forgetting to text back. urban exploring. rumbling thunder. found family. rope swings. just jump. sharing stories. packing light. warm beer. road trips with no destination. bare faced. falling leaves. never look back.

HOT DOG 🌭

small details. herb gardens. busy city streets. conspiratorial smiles. baby powder fresh. tailgating at the big game. extra espresso shots. saying yes. endless ocean. meaningless tattoos. whatever’s on draft. 5k races. answers to everything. all night phone calls. truth or dare. messy buns. raspberry sorbet. you’re my bro, bro. cheating at monopoly. passing out on the couch. conversations with strangers. smolders. act now, think later. leather jackets. smudged makeup. restlessness. loud laughter. confident strides. natural talent. what ifs. hairbrained schemes.

PRETZEL 🥨

dogeared books. leather satchels. phone on silent. noise cancelling headphones. new book smell. chai lattes. chewed fingernails. dancing in the rain. trivia nights. succulents on the windowsill. all white bedding. a wrinkled dress shirt. messy handwriting. true crime podcasts. 5am drives. classic matte lipstick. bare feet in the grass. chapped lips. bullet journals. tired but satisfied. carefully chosen words. old libraries. well brushed hair. fresh bread. untouched snow. antiques. the shade from trees. bicycles. knitted scarves. knowing looks. first hand up in class. reliable suits.

PIZZA 🍕

dancing on tables. baggy shirts. salty fries. smeared make-up. bed head. bold statements. frappuccinos. fashionably late. lucky charms. girls nights in. roaring laughs. siri, open tinder. reality television. takeout on speed dial. midnight skinny dipping. incorrect turns of phrase. wilting houseplants. thriving on chaos. rocky road. hiding junk in closets. long island iced tea. long contact lists. bright confetti. breakfast for dinner. sweatpants. running from responsibilities. dark sunglasses. funky socks. fading hickies. social butterfly. novelty couch cushions. water balloon fights.

PREMIUM MEMBER GROUPS

our premium member groups will be up for grabs once the site launches. to gain a premium member group you’ll need to buy it with points, so get plotting, threading and saving up! purchasing a premium group will give you a cute new skin variation and colours, as well as some lovely prizes and opportunities!

CEREAL 🥣

paint splattered t-shirts. lush green fields. toothy grins. patchouli and sage. tiny tattoos. handwritten notes. mud tracked through the house. classic rock music. unread messages. chipped mugs. tangled headphones. repurposed leftovers. misunderstood punch lines. loaning money. old architecture. wandering. herbal remedies. heavy backpacks. chunky boots. encouraging smiles. thought-out haikus. tarot cards. pots of soup. charitable donations. unruly manes. socks and sandals. warm honey. old cars. golden hour. earl grey. canvas tents. gingham blankets.

CUPCAKE 🧁

maraschino cherries. no set schedules. comic books. wildflowers. light up sneakers. cosy beds. bubblegum. stacks of pancakes. singing in the shower. conversations with dogs. post its on the mirror. romantic comedies. champagne kisses. giddiness. blue sky thinking. twirling in a sundress. saturday morning cartoons. cursive handwriting. crushing hard on strangers. rolling down hills. chewed pen caps. bursts of excitement. hair flipping. cheap drinks. outright flirting. youtube marathons. great with kids. graphic shirts. tik tok trends. silver linings. welcome distractions. impromptu picnics.

ICE CREAM 🍦

drunk tattoos. neon lights. conspiratorial smiles. smashed phone screens. cheap wine. last night’s leftovers. walks of shame. scratches on backs. polaroid pictures. mischievous glances. glow sticks and glitter. crop tops. technopop. laughing til it hurts. bottles of vodka. messy bedrooms. dirt under fingernails. salty fries. bruised knees. doing it for the meme. scars with stories. lips between teeth. glossy lips. thumping bass. splashing puddles. throwing arms in the air. sleep is for the weak. bed head. wake and bake. adrenaline rushes. borrowed dollars. leaps of faith. live fast, die young.

NOODLES 🍜

starry nights. crossword puzzles. listening carefully. sci fi movies. art galleries. snorts of laughter. statement clothing. birds in flight. video games. catching fireflies. foreign films. angry tweets. stacks of books in the corner. saying the wrong thing. dramatic haircuts. taking the train. watching tv with subtitles on. highlighted pages. far off lands. pretending to be someone else. matcha. steamed up mirrors. people watching. documentaries. untied shoelaces. reminders on the back of the hand. underestimation. dad jokes. blanket burritos. nervous texting crushes.

SUSHI 🍣

candle-lit dinners. chilled wine. sound of stilettos on the sidewalk. twilight hours. lipstick on white collars. polished metal. few but close knit friends. love of higher society. hand on chest when laughing. french manicures. caprese salad. luxury watches. leather wallets. long walks on the beach. living peacefully. minimalistic decor. croissants and fruit. flower bouquets. sleek sweaters. well-made beds. pistachio macarons. the glow of a laptop. marie kondo methods. french press coffee. pressed linen. broadsheet newspapers. vanilla bean. grand pianos. long swims.

POPCORN 🍿

dark movie theaters. hand-holding. stuffed french toast. bulky sweaters. hot chocolate. heads on shoulders. beaten up converse. bowls of ramen. comfortable silence. pinky promises. old favorites. tight hugs. dusky evenings. gin and tonic. bubble baths. ruffled hair. slouchy shirts. carnival ferris wheels. amaretto sours. wide umbrellas. quiet murmurs. too many emojis. overstuffed couches. a push in the right direction. hand-me-downs. vcr collections. acoustic guitars. grandma’s casserole dish. sworn protectors. body warmth. aloe plants. waffle cones. dappled sunlight.

WAFFLE 🧇

careful notes. scrabble champions. never wrong. secluded cabins. under eye bags. never misses a phone call. the road less travelled. bitten lips. zoning out. keyboard warriors. cloudy lemonade. forgotten meals. ripples in water. debating at the dinner table. crossword puzzles in ink. crackling fires. best laid plans. paragraphs in journals. long stretches. budget spreadsheets. food magazines. thriving houseplants. practical advice. tailored clothes. raised eyebrows. protein shakes. filling the swear jar. decisive nods. leather couches. lined paper. reason over feelings.

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cryptofmadness · 7 years ago

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The 2017 New York Comic-Con MAD magazine panel round-up.

By Ian Scott McGregor As always, Angelo Torres was early. The morning of the New York Comic Con MAD panel, Ange called to tell me he was waiting at the subway entrance. I slapped on a vintage MAD cap, and ran downstairs to find him dressed nattily in a navy blazer. We were off. On the train into the city, we marveled at the characters boarding at each stop: “Who’s that?” “I think he’s from Game of Thrones.” “I don’t watch it.” “Me neither. “Wonder Woman. And another Wonder Woman.” Once inside the strobing, cacophonous Javits Center, we picked up our passes and were told to activate them online. I pulled out my smartphone and Ange lifted an eyebrow. “What happens if you don’t have a smartphone?” “Don’t worry about it - we are activated!” After passing through security, we waded into the throngs of the convention crowd. Teeming masses of cosplay from every walk of pop-culture swarmed the convention floor and everyone took pictures of everything. “Look at all these nerds!” “Are you sure these aren’t geeks?” “It’s the dorks you have to watch out for…” “There’s Wendy Williams as Wonder Woman.” We wandered into the packed main floor, dazzled by displays and costumes, trying to decipher exactly where the MAD panel was being held. Jostled by Gokus, Pokemon and countless Rick and Mortys, we found our way downstairs to the panel. MAD fans were already lining up outside. We spotted Chris Boyko’s wide smile in line and said hello before being ushered into the back of the room by a convention wrangler, while the previous panel finished a Q&A. A tall gentleman in glasses and sensible sport coat followed and sat down next to us. “Mark Fredrickson.” “Oh, I love your work! Mark, this is Angelo Torres.” “Angelo, I’ve been wanting to meet you for a long time. Here, hold this.” Mark handed a small plush poodle toy to Ange, and asked him to pose for a picture for his young son, who sent the poodle as an ambassador. Ange and I went to find some water and were greeted outside by John Ficarra, Sam Viviano, James Warhola, Dick DeBartolo, Nick Meglin, Ryan Flanders, Charlie Kadau, Joe Raiola, Teresa Burns Parkhurst - and, lo and behold - world record holder Al Jaffee. Everyone was excited to see each other, and the hugs and insults flowed freely. As the last panel cleared, everyone went in to find seats. The MAD panelists climbed the stage and I sat in the second row with Ange, Desmond Devlin and Ray Alma, while Ryan Flanders, Dave Croatto, Patty Dwyer and Jacob Lambert, among other staff, took the front row. Tom Richmond, Ed Steckley and Hermann Mejia sat on the side, and Tom Bunk tried to join the panel just before the start, but was swatted away by Raiola. As the lights dimmed, a rumor spread that even Max Korn was in attendance… John Ficarra took the podium and asked the audience to rise for a MAD rendition of “America the Beautiful” while a lyrics slideshow played on the screen. John then introduced the panelists and took us through a short slideshow of the history of MAD, which concluded in mere seconds, jumping straight from MAD #1 to current issue, #547. After some quick plugs for upcoming MAD books, Ficarra led a year-in-review of MAD’s greatest hits of 2017, mentioning Trump covers were their best-selling issues. A sneak preview of upcoming MAD #548 capped the presentation, and fans lined up to ask questions and receive a MAD hat for their trouble. Some fans asked about MAD changing over the years, about MAD’s imminent move to Burbank, and Ficarra noted that MAD has always reflected the times - as the language of the populous has grown coarser, so has the language in MAD, as politics have taken over the zeitgeist of the nation, so have they taken over the pages of MAD - it’s business as usual. When asked, Ficarra also responded to the events in Las Vegas, and spoke sensitively about how MAD has never made a practice of “victim humor” and that the staff thought carefully about their response. Al Jaffee described his Fold-In process, working from the outside in, not seeing the final gag until it’s in the magazine, and Nick Meglin recounted the debacle of the infamous middle finger cover (MAD #166) - one of the MAD’s few misfires in 65 years. Teresa Burns Parkhurst implored a young artist not to go to college, and Sam Viviano added that the road of a creative is tough, but you’ll find your way if you’ve got talent. After one particularly knowledgeable fan took the time to individually compliment each panelist’s talents, Ficarra slipped him a dollar bill as payment, sending the crowd into uproarious applause. As the Q&A wound down, all of the contributors and staff took the stage for a truly historic photo opportunity - the largest gathering of the Usual Gang of Idiots in recent memory. Filing out of the auditorium, the staff squeezed their way to the Artist’s Alley near the entrance, to take shifts autographing vintage Alfred E. Neuman portraits and special convention sampler issues. I hopped in line to get some signatures in silver ink for my Completely MAD hardcover and snag some MAD pinback buttons. Some of the staff split to order pizza at the MAD office uptown, as Mark Fredrickson had never been before, while Ange, Meglin, James Warhola, Tom Bunk and myself sought out the D.C. VIP room to overlook the exhibition hall for sandwiches and coffee. Warhola (who is Andy Warhol’s nephew) grilled Ange about his friendships with Al Williamson, Frank Frazetta, Roy Krenkel, and Sid Check. I mentioned to Warhola that some art historians credit a specific panel in MAD #22 for inspiring his uncle’s aesthetic, which he hadn’t heard, but imparted that the silkscreens were Andy’s way of memorializing Marilyn's untimely passing. I asked Bunk about the first issue of MAD he’d ever read and was tickled to hear he was weaned on German-language reprints of Kurtzman’s MAD Reader and MAD Strikes Back. Meglin led us (to) the main floor to point out original E.C. artwork and introduce Ange to some old friends. We stopped by the National Cartoonists Society booth to say hi to Ed Steckley and Ray Alma, and visited the esteemed and very funny Mark Evanier at the Abrams booth. Ange and I wandered around looking for a few of his old Classics Illustrated issues, but came up short. We bumped into Chris Boyko again, and the nicest E.C. fan of them all, Clint Morgan, who was hot on the hunt for high grade E.C.s. Beat from hiking the exhibition hall, we hopped a cab to a hotel for a few beers. Meglin told me how he and Ange met at the Cartoonists and Illustrators School, when Ange asked out loud if anyone knew the Brooklyn Dodgers score - fast friends and bosom buddies from then on. Eventually, we sauntered to the Heartland Brewery on the ground floor of the Empire State Building, where D.C. was hosting a MAD-themed party in honor of the New York staff. Alfred E. Neuman and Spy heads were pasted on every picture in the restaurant, a super special MAD drinks menu was on offer, and every table had MAD coasters and fortune cookies, with appropriately sardonic fortunes. Tom Richmond joined us and we gorged on delicious pulled-pork sliders and more beer (I stuck to the Pale Ale Jaffee). I gave Tom a set of MAD trading cards and Meglin shuffled through the deck, commenting on each cover, while I sputtered trivia. Tom, who later ordered a 43-Man Squamish from the bar, complimented Ange on his new website - Ange nodded to my work on it, and I doffed my MAD cap in kind. Sufficiently stuffed, we moved to the lower level of the brewery, where much of the MAD staff had congregated. TV screens above the bar played slideshows of MAD covers and Celebrity Snaps while other D.C. staff introduced themselves to the New York MAD crew. Joe Raiola clapped me on the back and I told him how his years of jokes had shaped my critical thinking skills and thanked him in earnest. D.C. Co-Publisher Dan Didio grabbed a microphone and hushed the crowd, thanked everyone for coming, and beckoned John Ficarra to the stairs to make a short speech. Ficarra expressed his gratitude and admiration for the New York MAD staff and all of their incredible work, and wished the best of luck to everyone in Burbank. Bill Morrison, MAD Burbank Editor-in-Chief, made the rounds with easy charm and was happy to say hello. I told him how much MAD meant to me, that I was excited to see where MAD goes and handed him a small piece of MAD history as a lucky token for his new endeavor. The evening drew to a close and everyone said heartfelt goodbyes. Ange and I grabbed some MAD barf bags on our way out, and hailed a car back to Brooklyn. In our yellow taxi on the Brooklyn Bridge, Ange looked over his shoulder at the Manhattan skyline and said, “Ah… I love this filthy town.”

#mad magazine #articles #2017 #nycc #nycc2017 #Mad #November 2017

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fashiontrendin-blog · 7 years ago

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Christmas gifts for Mum

http://fashion-trendin.com/christmas-gifts-for-mum/

Christmas gifts for Mum

33 images

Stuck for Christmas present ideas? Browse our pick of the best gifts for mums

Looking to treat your mum this Christmas? Our list of the best Christmas gifts for mum should have something to keep her very happy.

We’ve edited the best online Christmas gifts so that you can really spoil your mum for 2016. We’ve scoured the internet to bring you the most amazing gifts to give this Christmas (some of which you might want to buy double of because you’ll love them so much).

We can all relate to the rising panic; With only a few weeks left until Christmas, you need present ideas, fast. But fear not, we’ve got you covered with the best gifts out there, from jewellery and accessories, to the most luxurious scarves (from knitted to silk) and much, much more – we’ve got your Christmas gifts for mum sorted.

With luxe gifts for an extra special treat to suitably stylish gifts that won’t break the bank, you’re guaranteed to find it here.

The budget-friendly bits include a delicious chocolate wreath from Hotel Chocolat for just £7 ( who doesn’t appreciate the gift of chocolate!) and some super-chic and very useful diamond-style wine savers from Marks & Spencer for just £15.

If you’re looking to the higher end of the scale, why not splash out on a sophisticated Smythson Panama Leather Notebook for £45, embossed with a humour ‘Busy Bee’ logo this is the perfect stocking filler for mums this year.

For an indulgent treat, a luxury candle is always well-received, and we’ve found a gorgeous one you can even customise with a special message from No.22 for £55. Or why not opt for a gift set from cult brand Aesop for £83.

If you’ve got a lengthy list of friends and relatives to shop for, forget trawling the shops as we’ve got the perfect Christmas gifts for kids, Christmas gifts for her and Christmas gifts for him too.

So, put the kettle on, grab your credit card and start scrolling.

Happy shopping…