#looks like a kid wearing their parents clothes

[holmesoldfellow]

Sherlock Holmes bear by Gabrielle Designs (1987)

[a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual]

Like the majority of society I’m obsessed with Nimona

And I rewatched it a million times and one thing always sticks out to me 

There are moments when Ambrosius is surrounded by light like a little protective bubble 

That keeps him away from the man he loves more than anything 

[metropoliswhite]

does anyone else feel as devastated by this as me?

[tweedfrog]

Rhaenyras personal sigil was so ugly because baby joffrey felt left out of the war effort and then he whipped that up and handed it to his mother and she didnt have the heart to tell him it was hideous so she just forced all of team black to go with it

[the-words-we-sung]

I finally received my Omar tour tee shirt and I'm incredibly disappointed...

I took a Small one and it's just gigantic. The tee shirt is really really large and long (it even makes the logo on the front looks very very small). It's not gonna be wearable for me at all. I'm disappointed AND annoyed because the website says "no return" since it's supposedly made at the time of the order...

I can't even verify if they sent me the right size because it's written nowhere on it.

For comparison, here is my Cirkus tee shirt, also a Small size:

The difference is crazy. The material is very different too: the new one is very thick. And I find the printing of a way lesser quality.

I'm very mad I spent so much money for it >< Not sure what to do now...

(Sure it says "mens boxy tee" but that's a very big boxy, it would look big even on a man a bit bigger than me ><)

[hootybal-lecter]

Y'all I bough a vest and a suit jacket with a slight plaid pattern yesterday

Hannibal is a terrible influence

[inrainbowscd]

is it THIS fucking HARD to make oversized t-shirts for short ppl? why do they even market it as oversized if it's just big and long...... that's just. a big size, not really an oversized model

[elovna]

YO new AU art just dropped ( second one isnt matt )

[asongofmeandstuff]

Behold the Hero Of Hi-Rule, Champion Of The Hi-Lyers, LUNK!

[elodieunderglass]

Also that just looks like a particularly well-off person on maternity leave. That baby is about 9-11 months old, at which age, by rights, the primary carer should only just be thinking about easing back into their job.

Why not just agitate for respectable maternity leave? 👀

[hecksupremechips]

Had a very bad day Gotta eat gravel

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

Gravity Falls was strange, and the townsfolk even stranger, it seemed.

The twins had been unceremoniously dropped off on the side of the dusty road, the roar of the bus engine fading away as the driver wordlessly drove off without fanfare. The poor man had almost seemed close to tears ever since they had entered the thresholds of this seemingly innocuous town, all too eager to speed off and away while leaving the two children coughing and wheezing in its dust.

It had not even been a full minute since their lackluster drop-off before they became well acquainted with the oddly sociable and irritatingly chatty inhabitants of Gravity Falls. A single conversation with a pair of boisterous policemen already told them all they needed to know about the history of the town, as well as the whereabouts of their Great Uncle Ford.

"The Mystery Shack," the townsfolk had called it. It seemed as though their distant uncle had earned himself somewhat of a reputation amongst the locals. He was the town cryptid; the ever elusive mad scientist that lived in the outskirts of town in this so called "Mystery Shack". No one really knew who he really was; but everyone knew exactly who he was.

So, when the twins found themselves stood hand in hand in front of the rickety old shack, they hadn't really known what to expect when door had swung open with a deafening slam.

He was a strange man, their Great Uncle Ford. He seemed nothing like the cackling looney lab-coated madman they had imagined from what meager hushed information the townsfolk had offered them. It seemed as though the tales of a scientist gone mad that experimented on stray children that wandered into his spooky "Mystery Shack" was but a cruel rumor.

He mostly just seemed unhealthy, to be honest. His sickly, pale frame utterly drowned in the thick red woolen sweater that practically seemed to hang off of his lanky body like a second flap of skin. It made him look almost child-like, like a kid trying on their parents clothes; which somewhat diluted the intimidating effects of his looming height.

Although, the townsfolk's apparent fear of their Great Uncle Ford seemed to have some merit.

For one, Grunkle Ford really didn't seem all too human. He wasn't inhumane, per se; just, not entirely himself, if that made any sense. Looking at him was like looking at an incomplete puzzle; or looking at someone who you remember all your life wearing a hat, suddenly coming to work one day without one, and it takes a little too long for you to remember what is missing.

It was like Grunkle Ford had lost pieces of himself. Somewhere, to someone. His eyes seemed... almost empty. They were a little too dull and a little too opaque, lacking the lively shine of life everyone else seemed to have.

Another thing was that Grunkle Ford wasn't entirely alone. There was... someone else. The twins couldn't exactly pinpoint where, but they could feel its stare, whatever or whoever it was. They could almost feel its stare, a non-existent eye trailing a weird prickling sensation across their skin. The twins recalled the words of one of the townsfolk, a tall bestacled man with haunted blind eyes; although unseeing they could have sworn his gaze never seemed to leave them, as all he said was:

"Don't catch IT staring at you"

The twins had an odd feeling that IT was looking at them right now.

They didn't even notice when the pale bony hand of Grunkle Ford suddenly reached into their personal space, barely registering his words at all, much less the extra fingers that adorned each of his rough, worn palms.

They didn't take the hand.

If the twins had thought the outside of the shack looked decrepit, the inside seemed somehow even worse.

Every inch of exposed wall, ceiling or floor were utterly covered by sprawling symbols, summoning circles, and indecipherable words that seemed to be in an entirely different language than any the twins knew. They overlapped and tangled into one another into big, messy, red splotches of clustered nothings.

There were notes, diagrams on ripped pieces of aged looking paper scattered everywhere, with hardly any room for post-it notes squeezed wherever there was room. Lit and unlit candles were placed absolutely everywhere; either hidden in the dark corners or openly stood in the middle of the floor; sometimes in a circle, sometimes not. The melted fallen wax had coagulated into a hard white mess onto the floor; the smell of cheap vanilla scented candles intermingling with the smell of halloween fake blood (and Dipper was convince there had to be some real blood there, too) to create a sour concoction that stung their noses unpleasantly.

The shack was sparsely furnished with rarely any furniture at all. Not even a couch, the tables and chairs simply pushed to the walls to make more space for the endlessly swirling symbols and pentagrams. The twins were hesitant of stepping on any of the summoning circles, carefully sidestepping the candles and walking over the line of the pentagrams.

The attic, where they would be residing, was not much better.

Maybe they did end up in a mad scientist's house, after all.

[fozmeadows]

the older I get, the more the technological changes I've lived through as a millennial feel bizarre to me. we had computers in my primary school classroom; I first learned to type on a typewriter. I had a cellphone as a teenager, but still needed a physical train timetable. my parents listened to LP records when I was growing up; meanwhile, my childhood cassette tape collection became a CD collection, until I started downloading mp3s on kazaa over our 56k modem internet connection to play in winamp on my desktop computer, and now my laptop doesn't even have a disc tray. I used to save my word documents on floppy discs. I grew up using the rotary phone at my grandparents' house and our wall-connected landline; my mother's first cellphone was so big, we called it The Brick. I once took my desktop computer - monitor, tower and all - on the train to attend a LAN party at a friend's house where we had to connect to the internet with physical cables to play together, and where one friend's massive CRT monitor wouldn't fit on any available table. as kids, we used to make concertina caterpillars in class with the punctured and perforated paper strips that were left over whenever anything was printed on the room's dot matrix printer, which was outdated by the time I was in high school. VHS tapes became DVDs, and you could still rent both at the local video store when I was first married, but those shops all died out within the next six years. my facebook account predates the iphone camera - I used to carry around a separate digital camera and manually upload photos to the computer in order to post them; there are rolls of undeveloped film from my childhood still in envelopes from the chemist's in my childhood photo albums. I have a photo album from my wedding, but no physical albums of my child; by then, we were all posting online, and now that's a decade's worth of pictures I'd have to sort through manually in order to create one. there are video games I tell my son about but can't ever show him because the consoles they used to run on are all obsolete and the games were never remastered for the new ones that don't have the requisite backwards compatibility. I used to have a walkman for car trips as a kid; then I had a discman and a plastic hardshell case of CDs to carry around as a teenager; later, a friend gave my husband and I engraved matching ipods as a wedding present, and we used them both until they stopped working; now they're obsolete. today I texted my mother, who was born in 1950, a tiktok upload of an instructional video for girls from 1956 on how to look after their hair and nails and fold their clothes. my father was born four years after the invention of colour televison; he worked in radio and print journalism, and in the years before his health declined, even though he logically understood that newspapers existed online, he would clip out articles from the physical paper, put them in an envelope and mail them to me overseas if he wanted me to read them. and now I hold the world in a glass-faced rectangle, and I have access to everything and ownership of nothing, and everything I write online can potentially be wiped out at the drop of a hat by the ego of an idiot manchild billionaire. as a child, I wore a watch, but like most of my generation, I stopped when cellphones started telling us the time and they became redundant. now, my son wears a smartwatch so we can call him home from playing in the neighbourhood park, and there's a tanline on his wrist ike the one I haven't had since the age of fifteen. and I wonder: what will 2030 look like?

[harmonizewithechoes]

Quick PSA for people buying gifts for any littles in their life this holiday season:

If you are thinking about getting pjs for anyone in size 5T or under please keep in mind that children’s pajamas are made to make children less flammable in case of a house fire. They do this in two different ways: using flame resistant materials (resulting in more expensive pajamas) or making them tighter so there’s less material to ignite. In theory this means that you should be able to buy the proper size and it’s just going to be a bit snug but not uncomfortable. In practice? You should definitely size up. I’ve had far too many sets of pjs only fit for a week or two because a size 2T fits like an 18m or might fit in the arms and legs but the head hole is far too small to fit over their heads. Generally even if sizing up means the clothes will be too big it’s still not a bad idea because kids grow so quickly. Having clothes on hand for when their pants are an inch too short overnight is never a bad thing.

Children’s clothing sizes in general are an absolute nightmare and can be overly complicated. Every brand is completely different (think women’s clothing sizes x10) and paying so much for cute clothes really sucks when they will only end up wearing an outfit once or twice. Sizing up is a good idea but when in doubt a gift card always fits.

[hawkinsbnbg]

“Can we keep him, Uncle Wayne?”

Wayne didn’t look up from his newspaper, too used to his nephew picking up strays and bringing them home. God blessed the boy’s big young heart, but their trailer didn’t have space for another kitty or pup.

“I told ya before and I told ya it now,” Wayne said gruffly but not unkindly. “We don’t have space for your pet, son.”

“He’s not–”

“Eds, I’ll be fine on my own,” a quiet voice cut in before Eddie could start his usual speech.

That garnered Wayne’s attention immediately. And there standing next to his nephew was Steve Harrington who looked worse for wear—red puffy eyes, split lips, disheveled hair, and rumpled clothes.

“What happened?” Wayne set his newspaper aside and straightened up in his chair. He had a few good guesses already given what he knew of Richard and Amanda, but he still wanted to hear their side of the story first.

“His parents kicked him out,” Eddie hissed, hand clutching Steve’s fiercely in case the other boy tried to get away. He didn’t, just deflated as soon as the words were out of Eddie’s mouth.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Steve mumbled, eyes shining stubbornly as they locked with Wayne’s. “I just need a place to stay until tomorrow and then I’ll be out of your hair soon.”

“Stevie,” Eddie turned to him with an exasperated look. “You can’t believe that I’d let you leave after everything, right?”

“I know you want to help,” Steve rubbed a hand down his face tiredly, like he needed to hide a part of himself, vulnerable and slightly worn-out. “But I don’t wanna intrude.”

“You won’t,” Eddie shook his head rapidly and then looked at Wayne. “Right, Wayne? He’s not bothering you or anything, right?”

Wayne took in the sight of the Harrington boy, scared and lost, and knew his decision had been made for him. It wasn’t his first time taking in a stray anyway.

“Just call me Wayne or Uncle Wayne, kid,” he offered Steve a closed-mouthed smile, his most amiable one. “We don’t have much here, but feel free to ask me anything you need.”

When Steve ducked his head with a shy smile and sniffled a small Thank you, Wayne didn’t regret his choice.

It didn’t hurt that his nephew also beamed at him like Wayne had just saved the world.

And in a sense, to Eddie, it was true.

Because Wayne could see how much the Harrington boy meant to him, see the way they looked at each other without admitting it aloud.

Perhaps, Wayne picked up his newspaper again as Eddie offered the Munson’s new member a mug of warm milk, he was going to have another son soon enough.

[reshinless]

sylus is a girl dad.

sylus whose daughter loves telling everyone hi, with a wave and a cheeky smile (in hopes to find a mom and a wife for her papa)

she, who bumps into you while running around the candy isle.

"oh sweetheart, are you okay?" she immediately gets up to see who she bumped into-

"oh wow.. you're so pretty, lady!" she cheers as you pick her up. "mmhm? where's your parents, honey?" you search signs for any parents.bmaybe she was just wandering?

no no, a kid with this type of fashion would not just 'be roaming around'. she had a necklace with her own name on it.

"my daddy would like you." the small white-haired little girl looked at you with awe. playing with your hair as she leaned onto your chest, as if she was ready to call you mom.

you started to walk around the store, asking around if they'd seen her parents. but every stranger you met- to no avail did you get to find any clue. let alone the man himself.

"sweetheart, do you know what you're papa looked like?" tucking in one of her stray strands of hair behind her ears as she nods her head. "yeah, handsome and very nice. he is very tall too! and.. ummm... he has my hair!" huh.. you couldn't find anyone else that seemed to have similar hair to hers.

"ah, there you are scarlett. don't roam around aimlessly. you heard a low voice coming from behind you. oh this must be her father.

oh- wow. he was definitely a lot more different than expected. you expected an appearance similar to the way his little girl had dressed. "papa! look i found pretty woman!" she pulled on your collar, asking you to get closer.

'you.. you're her dad?" you looked back at the little pearl you had in your arms, she was wearing all pink and a dash of white. and compared it to the man in front of you's look. a black suit paired with a few touches of red here and there.

you chuckled at first, getting to converse a little deeper with the tall man, although he looked scary, he was not as unfriendly as he seemed.

"you're good with kids, hmm?" the white-haired male hummed, looking into your e/c eyes, he definitely could hold it. "I suppose!" you cheer as you watch the small girl run back and forth, grabbing unhealthiness off the shelves.

"miss! can you pretty please buy this for me?" she grinned, oh what a cute little smile! sylus suddenly stopped you by your shoulder; "I'm really sorry for her behavior, she doesn't usually act like this. scarlett, go put it back." the last of his sentence almost sounded nice, but a twinge of anger in it. well, understandably..

"don't worry, i can buy it for her. which one did you want again?" you stepped closer, kneeling down to her level, watching her point out what chocolate bar she wanted.

he had to marry you.

after a quick trip to the counter, the small girl happily munched on her candy, smiling a teethy grin at you. bits of chocolate over her mouth. "hey, careful now, chocolate can stain easily.." you walked to her, wiping her mouth with a part of your clothing.

"hey- you didn't have to do that." sylus was too late to stop you, the mocha already stained onto your shirt. "huh? oh it's nothing much really, I'm fine. they're just clothes anyway."

"let me repay you."

"no, no need really!"

"let me."

"no! it's fine!"

he grabbed your hand not too roughly, but places what looked like at least one-thousand dollars?!

by the time you looked up from counting the money, he had already gone. oh, what's this? a note?

"call me XXXX-XXX-XXX when you find something." huh. his number? now that's interesting!