When Lex Foster was eight, Hannah was born. She had known that she would get a sibling soon, her ‘uncle’ Gerald had explained it to her a few weeks before he went back to his wife. She didn’t really care at the time. She was so busy with everything going on at home and school. There was nothing to make her care about a living potato that didn’t even exist yet.
Her mom brought her home from the hospital and left the baby on the couch to go and sleep. Lex had picked her up before she could fall. Hannah was her name apparently. Lex remembered that her grandma’s name was Hannah. Something felt right, holding her sister in her arms. She felt like Hannah was more than her sister. She had to be there for her, their mother certainly wouldn’t.
Hannah was so big in her arms, but Lex was small, even for her age. As she looked down upon her little sister, she knew that she would give the world for her. She had the same green eyes as Lex, the only thing Lex could ever thank her mother for.
She held Hannah for hours, not knowing what else to do. She wasn’t as tall as the crib, so she would have to leave Hannah alone to find something to climb on to put her little sister in. She never wanted to leave Hannah alone. She could see everything in the room that could possibly hurt her. Lex couldn’t let anything hurt her little sister, no matter what.
Lees verder
Given the situation in the world right now this may not have been the best t-shirt to wear in public...
MY LIFE IN A NUTSHELL
Hey wait a minute.
“I think we’re alone now
The beating of our hearts is the only sound”
Holy shit the foreshadowing
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(Source)
So I don’t know about you, but I’m often frustrated by the ridiculous smallness of girls’ pockets. At a bare minimum, I need to be able to shove my cellphone in there - come on, pants companies! So what I started doing was making myself pocket extenders. I’ve done this several times, for pants and shorts. It’s great.
I just got this pair of jeans, so I thought I’d show you how to do it. I kind of feel like it just hasn’t occurred to some of you that this is an option, so maybe now it will. All you need is your pants, some fabric (I just took a random piece from a scrap bin), a needle, and some thread (thread doesn’t even need to match the fabric since literally no one will see it).
See? Ridiculous. Like, half a cellphone, or only 2.5″. Useless.
So turn those inside out to expose the pockets.
Figure out how big you want your pockets to actually be. I kinda go by whatever looks like might be right. I didn’t really measure them. Fold the fabric in half, so you have a pocket, and then fold it in half again so you can have two equal ones.
Try to get the edges to line up enough, pin it in place, then sew up the sides! Are your stitches crazy uneven and wonky looking? Doesn’t matter; nobody’s going to see it. These are in the inside of your pants. The only thing that matters is that it holds up. So I double-did the corners, since those tend to get the most stress.
Cut open the bottom of the existing pockets.
Pin it in place, then sew around, joining the new pocket to the old pocket. I did this by keeping my hand on the inside, so I wouldn’t accidentally sew through the other side. Again, I reinforced the corners, and didn’t worry about what it actually looks like. Then I turned it in side out to make sure the inside was all joined properly.
Yay all done! And the pockets are so much bigger now!
Whaaaat I can fit my entire phone and entire hand and probably something else now, are girls’ pockets even allowed to do that?! Heck yeah they are.
Things that make my brain go a little fuzzy
get u a man like peter parker who comes up with a six-step plan to confess his feelings to you which includes remembering your favourite flower and buying you a necklace of said flower
In reference to this post, I do legitimately wonder what exactly Nick Fury’s expectations of Steve were.
Assuming his two primary sources for Steve Rogers Anecdotes were Howard and Peggy (and I think they were), there’s no way he would have gotten anything approaching an accurate account for who Steve was as a person.
I honestly don’t think Howard knew Steve well. All his reminiscences are going to be fundamentally colored by the fact that, despite the epiphany he comes to in the S1 finale of Agent Carter (he says something like, ‘he was good before I got my hands on him, wasn’t he?’), Steve’s successes as Captain America are in part his successes because he helped make Captain America. So all the stories Howard could tell Fury (and, sorry about your horrible childhood, Tony) are going to portray Steve in a very specific way, turning him into the ultimate war hero, the ultimate super solider, the ultimate weapon that Howard helped create.
I doubt Peggy’s telling a lot of truths either but for different reasons. Or, well. Peggy doesn’t lie about Steve, but there are certain things she doesn’t say about Steve. Because everyone knows and mourns Captain America, but she’s one of a small handful of people who actually mourn Steve Rogers. There are things about him she keeps private and safe for herself.
Like the fondue story? I am positive that never made it into the global Captain America narrative. I also don’t think it’s a story Tony or Sharon ever heard. Howard doesn’t tell it because it’s not a Cap Story, it’s a Steve Story, and Howard’s far more interested in the former than the latter. Peggy also doesn’t tell it because it’s a Steve Story, and the world isn’t owed any more of Steve Rogers than they already have. They can keep Captain America, but Steve is hers.
But I honestly believe that if Nick got half a shot of whiskey in Colonel Phillips, he would spend literal hours dragging Steve Rogers through the mud.
“Rogers? Biggest pain in my ass that ever lived, and that’s before Stark and Erskine got their god damn hands on him. I’ve had a hemorrhoid or two tried to compete, but nope. It was Rogers.
“That son of a bitch probably spent six weeks AWOL altogether thinking he knew better than me, the SSR, and all the Allied powers put together. At the end of it, he’d come into my office, stand at attention, salute. Then I’d maybe get one ‘yes sir, no sir’ out of him before he started arguing with me about whatever damn fool thing he’d just done. Which, I shouldn’t have to tell anyone, is not how the god damned United States Army works. Rogers never did manage to grasp that concept.
“Don’t ask me about vehicle requisitions. I don’t even know how many cars those idiots wrapped around how many trees. I finally had to order the motor pool to stop giving him motorcycles at all. He kept throwing them at the enemy. That worked for maybe a month. He started stealing them, and I gave up.
“Once I ran into Barnes just staring at a wall looking whey-faced, terrified, and madder than a hornet. So I said, “What did that captain of yours do this time?” and he says, “He charged a fucking tank,” and I say, “Of course he did,” and he says, “Dumb bastard wasn’t even wearing his helmet,” and I say, “I don’t understand how you kept that boy alive long enough to con his way into the army in the first place,” and Barnes says, “You’ve got no god-damned idea, sir, you really don’t.”
“You know Carter shot at him once? I’ve never envied another human being so much in my whole life.
“Steve Rogers gave me most every grey hair on my head, don’t you let her tell you any different. I had a full head of thick black hair in 1943; by ‘44 I looked like someone dropped a pound of drywall on top of me. I aged a year for every hour I spent in Rogers’s company. When I die, if the coroner doesn’t list my cause of death as Steven Grant Rogers, it’ll be god damned perjurous.
“I could have court-martialed that jackass on at least 16 separate occasions, and we wouldn’t have won the war without him. God rest the son of a bitch.”
….so we have to assume that Fury never talked to Phillips I guess.
BUT OH GOD DO I WISH HE HAD
klaus is chilling on the couch, drinking vodka straight from the bottle