drumming on legs

so you might remember these two posts right? so i did some digging around livejournal and i found out some more about this night??

so. this whole thing happened the night of september 29th, 2008 in new york. panic were about to start the rock band live tour with dashboard confessional, and to decide what other band would be joining them on the shows, they did a contest, in which brendon, ryan and some dude from dashboard confessional were the judges. which is what was happening this night!!

so far i’ve found two people’s recaps of the night and they mention that

-brendon was missing for the first two bands

-when brendon got there he was really energetic and started drumming on ryan’s leg. thats fine

-all the judges had a notepad, u can see ryan has his on his lap here

-ryan kept writing mathematic equations on his for some fucking reason but whats more important brendon kept writing stuff on his and showing it to ryan. nobody saw what brendon was writing 👀👀 we should ask ryan

-apparently after the fourth corona zack took brendons drink away and he pouted like a babby

-brendon tripped and almost fell on ryan but zack caught him

ok so thats the info that ive been able to gather. i know this is not like. official ryden lore and there isnt much evidence but i think we can all agree that they were excessively cuddly on this night for no fucking reason. to illustrate my point im gonna put all the videos and pictures i have from this night under the cut. if i end up finding more info ill add it 2 this post!!

anyways in my Heart i know it. i just know that this night when they went home ryan fucked brendon. ryden was real

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dailymotion

Twenty One Pilots - Cover Cancer (My Chemical Romance) live in Providence (01/17/17)

rax-writes  asked:

can we talk about the way Charlie Heaton was standing? literally just the way he was standing. the hand in the pocket. the suit jacket tucked behind his arm. drumming his finger against his leg. GODDAMN

he’s attractive in so many ways that appeal to me and he has this 80′s/90′s appearance that makes him even more hot like what

Blue Beetle Headcanon: Sometimes Khaji Da Asks Jaime Really Weird Shit

As a superhero sometimes Jaime keeps really weird hours. Sometimes so weird that Khaji Da is all that is keeping him awake in school or with whatever he’s doing.

Thing is sometimes it’s Khaji Da’s fault that he’s keeping such weird hours in the first place. Jaime can always tell when Khaji Da is thinking really hard about something (Khaji Da does this thing where he fires off electrical pulses which makes it feel like he’s drumming his ‘legs’ against Jaime’s back around his spine), so he can usually tell when Khaji Da is going to ask him about something.

Sometimes Khaji Da’s questions are random as hell, or downright weird– especially if he’s been awake too long. Such as:

* “What is the purpose of blogging?”

* “What does the term ‘shit post’ mean? This does not make sense.”

* “I am confused about why there seems to be disapproval for polyamory. Is that not the sort of relationship we are in with the Bart Allen?”

* “Why do people share things they find embarrassing for public consumption online?”

* “What is the purpose behind having 50 sports channels?”

* “What is a ‘ship war’? I thought I understood this term, but I think I do not based off of what I have found.”

* “I have done the math and considered all probabilities. I would like to ask the Bart Allen how it is physically possible for him to eat 5 pounds of food per day. Probable volume dimensions of his stomach indicate this should be an impossibility.”

* “Query: is it possible that some branch of dinosaurs may be currently alive, and what is the estimated probability that if encountered they would try to consume us?”

* “I have been studying weapons-designs online. I have compiled a list. How many of these would you deem acceptable?”

* “If dragons were real would it actually be accurate to state that they are giant scaly fire-breathing cats with wings?”

* “After careful consideration I have come to the conclusion that having back-up organs is a viable way to ensure against lethal damage. Would this be acceptable?”

* “Why does cheese not obey the laws of permeability?”

* “Is ‘supercalifragilisticexpialodocious’ an actual word, and if so what is its use?”

(Sometimes Jaime is so much at a loss for how to answer that he just has to switch out control with Khaji Da so Khaji Da can ask Bart instead. Bart might not know the answers to a lot of Khaji Da’s random questions, but he can usually derail Khaji Da if he has to, or convince the scarab to finally go to sleep.)

anonymous asked:

imagine luffy and law's wedding being the biggest party in the world. the royal family of alabasta shows up, every vaguely friendly pirate crew shows up, the liberated people of dressrosa show up. luffy manages to overthrow 3 governments during the reception and takes law along for the ride, neither one of them remember how they did it.

luffy indulging in the champagne fountain present a little too much and drunkenly declaring liberation for every smaller kingdom they haven’t yet got to. every scholar present is furiously trying to scribe all of this down because so many historically important events have all just happened within the space of like an hour and they’re not entirely sure how. sengoku and garp have turned up out of courtesy in some very suspect disguises and are just drumming their fingers against their legs in repressed-anger unity. bartolomeo has collapsed on the floor from joy. a very drunk cavendish has attempted to skewer law 3 times as he walked through the reception. killer is exasperatedly following kidd around who is maybe attempting to use his power to steal all the jewellery being worn.

once that’s all over and done with and law is standing slightly bemused at the altar and the ceremony finally starts all the strawhats  start fighting about who will do what and realise luffy can’t dress himself formally (he has turned up with his shirt crumpled and his fly unzipped, for one) so they all have to usher him behind the scenes to help him out. 

sanji has to help him button up his shirt and do his tie but luffy is screaming and protesting ”SANJI I’M SUFFOCATING” “LUFFY THIS IS HOW EVERYONE WEARS A TIE” “WHY DON’T I JUST WEAR THE DRESS NAMI GOT ME? ONE OF US HAS TO” “luffy are you a man or not - “ “DRESS DRESS DRESS DRESS DRESS DRESS” 

nami passes the collection pan around the reception (usopp: “THIS ISN’T A CHURCH!!” nami: “WE’RE GONNA NEED THIS FOR THE DAMAGES CHARGE ON THIS PLACE, SHADDUP”) 

brook is actually quite sweetly playing music to the reception but all of it is kind muted because apoo is engaged in some sort of vicious music battle with him trying to drown him out. vivi sits in a chair smiling innocuously trying not to let her ears bleed at this cacophony. ceremonies in alabasta are nothing like this. 

chopper has been mistaken for a pet and is fondly being cuddled and passed around most of the eager crowd. he also found the chocolate fountain so he’s on a praise- and sugar-induced hyperactive bend. 

usopp is sitting in the wings casually bragging to the royalty that sometimes swoop past to collect drinks, etc: “did you know i have a kingdom of my own?” “oh, really? which one?” “UH” he shuffles his way into the back room

zoro has been enlisted to help luffy fit into this dress and he sighs and looks at sanji and for once they share a mutual feeling of how the fuck did it come to this as they attempt to gather up the skirts and pull them over luffy’s head 

robin has very nicely arranged some flowers to attach to luffy’s hair and it’s decided, after much bickering, that she will be the one walking him up the aisle, he keeps tripping over the hem of his dress so she gently uses cien fleur to help carry the train; nami, usopp and sanji are stood at the front of the ceremony, behind law sobbing; zoro is even smiling, clutching the rings. law is staring, blushing at luffy trying not to trip down the aisle with an expression between a mix of what is going on and i’m so glad i have you, you idiot when FRANKY APPEARS AT THE ALTAR, PRIEST ROBES ON, BIBLE IN HAND and just shouts 

“ARE YOU READY FOR THE MOST SUUUUUPER WEDDING OF ALL TIME” 

(it takes brook quite a while to convince him not to play disco music and instead allow a soothing violin to serenade the reception)

luffy has finally managed to make it down the aisle, a little clumsily. garp is almost screaming at what he’s realised luffy is wearing, which would admittedly be very nice on a girl (at least it’s traditional white? luffy is skinny enough to get away with a cinched-in waist but the neckline is supposed to be framing boobs that he…doesn’t have. he eventually concedes that the bottom of the dress is quite nice. it’s billowy pink-and-white layers hemmed in lace and tied in a bow at the back). barto woke up from his fainting spell only to burst into tears because luffy is smiling angelically up at law and cocks his head like do you like it? do i look nice?

Things That Have Actually Happened in Band Part 2

On the last night of band camp (which is at a state park), one of our senior guys ran around the park naked wearing nothing but a music note thong.

During the halftime show, our guitarist played his solo while thrusting to the beat in front of the entire crowd.

Our band director duct taped our drum major’s legs together because he dropped the f bomb.

Our band went to our rival school’s band camp and put stickers of their band director’s face on EVERYTHING.

We left a snare drum at an away game so we had to turn back around on the already 4-hour drive to retrieve it.

Approaching Sensory Overload

At McDonald’s with my family, and I just want to listen to music and close my eyes but that’s Socially Unacceptable™.

My brother is being purposely annoying. Talking loudly and drumming on his legs.
There’s country music playing. No offense, but that’s not my cup of tea.
My mom is on the phone.
Other people are talking and laughing.
I can hear the crunch of bags and my brother chewing.
I can see every single one of my brothers movements in my peripheral (swinging legs, hands, chewing with mouth open).
The lights are fluorescent and blinding.

I thought I could do this today. I got so hopeful because I had the spoons to get stuff done. I thought I could go out and be fine. Distraction please?

Dragons || CLOSED

@dreamfulknight

((Prelude- https://youtu.be/Kk-41BWJ-_4 ))

Xanos did not understand why he was being brought to this. He had no place in these dealings. He tried arguing that he would be nothing but a hindrance, but his father would hear none of it.

“You’re coming with us and that’s final,” said Argent, “It’ll be good for you, getting out to see the world.” And then he sucked on his pipe in a way that spelled death for any words on the young Tallkinder’s lips. He, Chief Falla, his father, and a few others, were headed out of the mountain village to meet with the neighboring Dragon Clan.

Clutching at his Drakon pendant, he walked alongside his father, his off hand drumming a beat on his leg. His eyes roamed, taking in the sights. They would arrive at the meeting grounds soon.

in undulation petal, full yellow bliss throw, sunlight edging, smooth black asphalt lane, upturn lips, callback reclaim, hair strands, city leaves, lake shores calling your eyelids. Remember the songs we plucked from the air, ripe and hanging, first come first served, last sung. I create a pocket to taste. You bow string your thoughts. Where did your black hair go? These demons play. You in denim drumming your leg.
—  Stimie

Inspired by this prompt. I saw it and knew I had to write it, and because I loved it so much, I’m also writing it for minicat too, so after I finish this, the minicat one will be out soon after <3 

This took me forever to write, mainly because the flow in this one is really wacky and towards the end I started to run out of ideas. But I hope you guys like it <3 

Jonathan drummed his fingers on his leg impatiently, his eyes scouring the restaurant every few minutes in hopes of spotting his boyfriend who was running extremely late. He picked up his phone, thumbing through his notifications to see if maybe his boyfriend had texted him, explaining why he was an hour late on their date that they had been planning for the past months, or telling him that he wouldn’t be coming because something had came up, but it came up disappointingly empty.

He threw the phone on the table in frustration, starting to grow increasingly upset as time passed. This was supposed to be their time to make up for all those days his boyfriend was gone on his family trip. This was their time to spend time with each other, to banter back and forth, to say stupid shit that only the two of them would understand and order the most weirdest dish on the menu and laugh about how terrible it tasted afterwards. 

Yet instead, Jonathan was left with staring at an empty seat, sitting by himself and having to ask the waitress for more time whenever she asked was he ready to order.

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warcommanded  asked:

“i need to leave.”

IT WAS A LONG WAY DOWN | accepting

      The laugh catches bitterly in his throat, fingers already working through the KNOTS of greasy brown hair while his lips formed a thin line against his knuckles. 
      “ ’Course you do.” 
    It STARTS before he knows what else to do with it. It starts with hurt. A painful sickness that spreads in his chest with disgusting reaches, FOULING his look to sharp eyes and a hard pull of thick brows, so tight the strain in his temples hurt. Then continues with the scrape down his throat, carving ugly stamps of JEALOUSY that braid along those hurtful drums in his chest—his leg bouncing to ward out the anger but not nearly quick enough. 
             It boils across his skin, the hot wash of shame sends his fingers to scratch away at marks left across his collar ( he said ‘ I love you ‘ then, what changed ) of a pink SIGNATURE he didn’t own. ( you knew that, you fool, you knew this ) 
          “You always have to leave…I get it. I do.” He realizes how broken his voice is when he tries to breathe, pins and needles ATTACK his lungs in vicious invoices of anger that spill beneath the salt in his eyes.  “Duty calls, right. Or maybe it’s Reyes this time. Or Amari.” His muscles ask him to nod but he doesn’t understand why—does it anyway. His teeth already RIPPED enough skin to the feel the blood hit his tongue. 
           “Don’t bother, ‘kay. I’ll make this easy for ya…” He pushes to his knees with a shaken conviction and COMMANDS himself to steel ( it’s harder when you’re rusted ), the hard fix in his jaw made as he passes and breaks for the door. Outside its threshold he can already feel each collapse come in reverbs. 
                          Contempt. 
                                   Regress. 
                                            Loss. 
                                                    n u m b n e s s 
           It doesn’t take long to swallow it back, tuck it all away and MARCH silently into
                                                daylight, chin high and eyes firm. 

You used to wonder why your dance instructor called them “spirit fingers”. At twelve years old, you thought this was corny as hell, and would grit your teeth in irritation each time she said those words.

Now, you wish you’d never found out.

Spirit fingers look like your own fingers. They feel like them, too. Mostly. They’re a little longer and thinner, maybe, and sometimes they seem to phase through small objects. You don’t always notice when they take over - sometimes it will be hours before you realize that the beat they’re drumming out against your leg is not one you know. Sometimes you’ll look down to see them tapping away at your phone, sending texts to unknown numbers, or drawing strange patterns in the dust on neglected furniture. They have surprised lovers on occasion - sometimes to your benefit, sometimes not.

You’ve taken to wearing rings of sterling silver and iron, one on each finger. It looks tacky, and you’re not sure if really does any good, but the comfort it brings you is immense. You used to soak your hands in holy water until a paper cut became infected this way. What would have happened if you’d had that finger amputated? You think about this regularly.

Spirit fingers are only a minor inconvenience, really. They shouldn’t scare you as badly as they do. What actual harm have they done? They’re only fingers, after all.

Only fingers. It would take only fingers squeeze a trigger or pull the pin of a grenade. You do not trust them.

When anyone asks why you wear two giant pointing foam hands like oven mitts everywhere you go, you only smile, and say, “I just have a lot of team spirit.”

Balto’s very last day as an active therapy dog was today. Today was a chill day spent educating college students about dog saftey, working dogs, and bringing a little love to all those stressed out kids at the library. Also played with Barney the golden therapy dog and watched those white birds that look like drum sticks on legs! Was wonderful day for dog! Complete with ice cream cone on the way home.

400+ visits in two and a half years.

As retried dog, will live life of luxury with his best girl Noodle, while Hubble takes the reins. Balto has been hired as new dog model for GQ. Please keep an eye out for first dog issue.

Clothes

AO3 link

______


Shirt

“Cas. C'mere,”


Dean sticks his head around the curtain of the changing room and beckons him over. He watches as Cas steadily rises to his feet from a chair in the waiting area and comes forward, a curious look on his face.


“How’s this look?”


Dean pushes back the curtain and there’s a faint clinking sound as the curtain rings catch on the pole. Dean’s hand brushes down the length of the curtain before falling to his side, fingers drumming against his leg.


He stands, waiting Cas’ judgement.


Cas’ eyes start at the floor, rising slowly, slowly up Dean’s jean-cladded legs. His gaze pauses at Dean’s crotch, and Dean swallows, waiting, before Cas’ eyes flick over every inch of the shirt Dean’s trying on, a slow smile spreading across his face.


“I like this one,” he decides, crooking a finger indicating for Dean to turn around.


Dean spins once for him, arms slightly flared out, turning back to enjoy the look of appreciation Cas gives him.


“Yeah?”


“Yes.”

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