get-me-out-of-this-car

2

So the talk was amazing but the fun started long before they walked on stage. As I plonked down the street, I turned the corner and was nearly at the theatre when a car pulls up and a hoard of people rush over and holy jinkies suddenly Judi Dench is less then five feet away from me! I’m in shock try to find a corner to cool off when suddenly two feet from me the most wonderful voice rings out and says “I’ve come to offer this lovely lady my arm” and Jim Carter saunters over to Judi and takes her arm and leads her inside. So fast forward show is about to start and my crazy annoying friend is late, like really late, like I’m about to murder her late but I’ve noticed that Maggie hasn’t arrived so I’m trying not to panic. Suddenly Maggie’s car drives up and people rush over and the theatre people rush out to get her. She comes in and is three feet away from me and doesn’t look well. She stops to catch her breath and frankly was super annoyed with how quickly everyone descended on her like she was a piece of meat. I of course trying to be calm and literally she is right next to me leaning against the wall catching her breath. Then she disappears and a few minutes later I shuffle down to the theatre and it begins. They are hilarious! They call each other Mags and Jude which is so adorable. They told a bunch of great stories and Jim looked like he was in heaven. It was a really funny night. Also apparently (I discovered at the end) that Sir Derek Jacobi was sitting two rows behind me!!! It was a great night and I’m so glad I went! These two ladies ought to have their own talk show. Also Maggie is just as sassy as one would think and Judi is the sweetest old lady in the world! New life goal: become best friends with all three!

BW: What were you first impression of her when you saw her?

MG: That she was a really nice girl, but that there was a certain amount of pathos involved with her because  I don’t know how much of a threat I was, but she seemed threatened, she seemed very nervous. That blew itself out as they started to see her under the conditions they saw her represent. I always refer to her  and a lot of my contemporaries would laugh at me because they felt differently, but I always felt that she was a deer in the headlights, and that all this pressure  the throngs would scream and yell when she’d get out of a car. 60, 70 guys with flashbulbs and strobe lights and you could see how she fought fear.

I always felt sorry for her. I remember when my wife woke me one day and said Oh my god!; I said, What? she said Marilyn Monroe died. I sat there and thought for a minute, I said, She finally found peace.

I don’t think this woman could have grown old gracefully in that business. Katherine Hepburn, or any of those old, female stars who endured because their physical being was not what they sold, they were incredible talents. Marilyn was a good actress, and if she worked with a good director, she was terrific. But it unfortunately, the only thing that really bothered her was in her stock in trade. Her stock in trade was to be sexy. 

- Murray Garrett (photographer)

I don’t deserve my fp he’s too perfect,, he just got this rlly good job he has to wake up early for and so this morning we woke up and he packed the bong and we smoked n i followed him around the kitchen while he made lunch n I got some foood bc he was yelling at me to eat and he grabbed the heating pad out of his car bc our rooms so cold esp without him and he kissed me goodbye a million times and keeps talking about our future and being the sweetest of all sweethearts💕💕💕

That rant wasn't out of no where,

It wasn’t even about the stupid date. What started it was something so simple. At the boy’s concert we saw a man dropping off I’m guessing his wife and kids at the front door so she can get seats and bring the kids where they needed to be and he could park the car. The boy asked what he was doing and I explained it to him. It took him a min and he looked at me and asked if anyone is going to treat me like that. If anyone else would have asked that I would have laughed and said no, but I told him maybe some day. That’s what started my whole brain being stupid the rest of the night and this morning apparently. It will pass, it always does.

anonymous asked:

so im one of the people that go and collect carts and i was getting some out of the cart area to take up to the store and as soon as im on the main roadway for the parking lot a kid comes running at full speed through right bside me to what i assume was his car and like i stopped because i didnt want to hit this child and like the mom screamed at me as soon as she was paying attention"move out of the way you fuckin r*tard" and i just still dont understand why i was the one she yelled at

Same situation happened with my 3 year old but I had the intelligence to teach my child he cannot just be running wild in a parking lot. I bet her kid gets hit by a car the next time her attention span is lacking. -Abby

Raised By A Gang

Title: Raised By A Gang-3

Pairing:Reader/Exo Mafia!au

Summary: After you parents passed you were raised by family friends,they just happened to be a gang.

Previous Next

Originally posted by kibaems

Chanyeol Pov.

“Come on Y/N we’re gonna be late!” I yelled up the stairs waiting by the front door for the seven year old. “Coming!” she yelled, I watched as she ran down the stairs with her backpack over her shoulders, her hair bouncing off her shoulders as she ran. Skidding to a halt in front on me, she turned her head upwards and smiled up at me, waiting for me to unlock the door. “Alright let’s get you to school.” I said unlocking the front door and walking out waiting for her to pass me so I could re-lock the door behind her.

I locked the door and as I turned back around she was already waiting at the car, I unlocked the doors and she put her backpack in the front seat. After she put it up front she opened the door  to the back and got in climbing into her car seat. I walked forward and got in the driver seat and turned around to look at her “ready to go Y/N, all buckled in?” I asked her. She gave a big nod of her head smiling at me. I turned back around and started the car, the engine jumped to life and I began to move towards her school occasionally glancing in the rear view mirror to check on her.

The reason I have to take her to school was because the rest were all working and I was on my way somewhere else after I dropped her off. Also I’m the only member with a car seat in their car meaning I was her safest travel for her. Not that I would hit anybody or let anybody hit me but all the members and I have discussed protecting her as much as possible so putting her in a car seat was a must. As we got closer to the school I saw Y/N glancing out the window a little sad like.

“Are you excited to go to school Y/N?” I met her eyes through the rear view mirror, she looked back at me shrugging her shoulders “sort of” she said. Confused I frowned “you will get to see your friends right? What kind of things are you doing in class right now?” I asked trying to brighten her mood. She smiled a little bit but it didn’t reach her eyes “yeah that’s fun. Right now Ms.Evers is teaching us how to write cursive and the difference in colors. She’s making us paint on a sheet on how the colors are placed on the color wheel and tracing lines to practice our writing” she said, looking back out the window again after she finished. Right as she finished I pulled up to the school, putting it in park so she could get out. She got out and walked around to the front to grab her bag.

She opened the door and grabbed at her bag, she was about to shut the door before I called out to her “have a good day ok? I will be back at three to pick you up. Love you” she smiled at me “you too, love you” she said shutting the door running towards the front entrance. I watched to make sure she made it into the school before I started the car again and went on my way for a deal.


I began to make my way to the school, the deal going well meaning I wouldn’t go get her all cut up and bleeding. Just as I pulled up in the spot I looked down at my phone as I still had time before her school let out. I called Suho quickly because of the time, it rang twice and then he picked up

C-”hey Suho”

S-”Chanyeol, how did the deal go?”

C-”went off without a hitch, got the cash.”

S-”good, where are you right now?”

C-”just picking up Y/N then I will be heading back to base”

S-”good”

Just as Suho began talking about another deal we had coming up I turned to look out the window to the front door to see Y/N getting shoved to the ground by another little boy. “Suho I’m going to have to call you back” I didn’t even wait for him to respond before I hung up. I got out of the car quickly taking big strides over towards Y/N and the boy were. I coughed loudly to gain the boy’s attention who was standing over Y/N with his fists clenched looking like he was going to hit her.

He turned his head to look up at me his eyes widening and took a few steps backwards. I crossed my arms over my chest and straightened, glaring down at him “who are you and what are you doing?” I gritted out between my teeth. “Uh- my name’s Jungkook, and-and she pushed me earlier so she deserved it!” he said pointing down at her “he’s lying Chan, he told me I was a freak because I didn’t have parents and then he pushed me down!” she cried pointing at the boy standing a few steps away. I scowled at him “if I was you I would leave. Now. because you do not want to mess with me or the rest of her family.” The boy turned and took off down the path towards his mother, I came to realize that people were staring at me. Some parents seemed to recognize me and had began to cower with their children pushed behind them watching me. “Come on Y/N let’s go home” I said picking her up and reaching over and grabbing her bag from the grass, with her still in my arms I sped walked back to my car. Putting her in her seat and rushed to turn the car on before anyone else could recognize me and possible call the police.

I looking in the rear view mirror to look at Y/N in the back “you know what he said wasn’t true, right Y/N?” I asked her, she only glanced back at me then turned her head back to the window. I left her till we got back to HQ, deciding we would all discuss it with her, she would probably have to change schools anyways now.

We pulled up in front of HQ and I stepped out of the car grabbing her bag and slinging it over my shoulders. I went up to the front door and unlocked it turning around to wait for her, she had only just got out of the car walking slowly with her head down to the front door. She passed through without even looking at me and going to sit on the couch in the living room. I locked the door and put her bag down next to it, walking over to the kitchen to get someone so we could all talk to her about what happened. In the kitchen Suho was munching on an apple, he turned to look as I came through the door “what happened today, Chanyeol?” he asked “I found some brat, pushing Y/N around, he told her she was a freak for not having parents.” Suho stopped eating and looked up into my eyes “what” he said looking deadly “call the rest of the guys we’re having a talk” he said passing me, going into the living room. I went up the stairs and told the guys that we we’re having a meeting in the living room, they all followed me back down the stairs to where Suho and Y/N where sitting. Everyone sat down on or around the couch, looking confused “Suho, what’s going on?” Luhan asked, Suho didn’t even turn his head but kept looking at Y/N “do you wanna tell us what happened at school today Y/N?” Suho said looking at her phrasing it more like a command than a question.

“A boy pushed me and called me freak because I didn’t have parents” she mumbled, but due to our better hearing skills we all still heard her from our ‘work’. “Did you try telling a teacher Y/N?” he asked her again, she nodded looking down “yeah she said pushing was how boys show they like a girl” she continued to look down. We all looked at each other, thinking the same thing “Y/N look at me” Lay said. She looked up at him “don’t you ever think that aggression and attraction are the same thing ok? It wasn’t right for him to push you like that, don’t let anyone treat you like that alright?” he said “yeah Y/N, you are worth so much, don’t let anyone hurt you. Him saying those things was also completely unnecessary and not true. You are not a freak and even though your parents have passed you always have a family ok? We’re your family and we won’t let you ever be alone.” Sehun said gaining her attention. “Thanks guys, I love you” she smiled seemed to be visibly brightening mood “don’t even worry Y/N we’re gonna put you in a different school too” I said “we are?” Suho asked me raising an eyebrow “yeah we kinda have to now because I may have been spotted and recognized today” I said sheepishly, Suho huffed shaking his head. “Yeah Y/N and we can teach you self defense!” Tao said everyone else nodded in agreement “as long as you use it only when you need to ok?” Kris said sternly to her “yeah!” she smiled. “Group hug!” she yelled throwing her arms out to the side and standing on the couch, we all lunged forward wrapping our arms around her, knowing that as long as she was with us she would be safe.

New chapter all done! hope you guys like it.

The Space Between Us

When we get out of the car, winter hits me. The smell of it is the same like when I was five, and sixteen - the only two times I can remember, but it’s a smell that is inside me like muscle, or an organ, a smell that sends me reeling while I stay rooted in the same spot, staring out toward the Swiętokrzyskie mountains and a gray, open sky. Of course there’s no real word to describe this winter - crisp, smoky, nostalgia. There is no single word; it is every word that takes me back to the beginning of the crystallization of my memory, our memories.

“Do you remember this smell?” I ask my younger sister, who is already shivering only one minute outside, and ten hours into our getaway.

She shakes her head.”It’s cold as fuck though.

M was only two when we left so how could she remember? I watch her walk toward the roadside WC, my other younger sister waddling behind her, pregnant and tired, but like the two of us  - so excited to be here again.

I wait for them to pee, vaping hungrily, looking out across the empty parking lot at three bright receptacle bins - green, blue, yellow. Poland’s recycling? I think, smiling warily. I snap a picture, find the right filter, and Instagram it immediately. It’s a Sunday. I close my eyes. I breathe. The air. The smell. We are here, the three of us. A getaway. A getaway from what? From husbands, children, work, Brooklyn, Jersey, Los Angeles. From our fairy tale lives, like M will repeat a few days from now. 

I warn my sisters that our grandmother’s nursing home is not fancy. Fancy isn’t in the arsenal. I warn them she will not remember us; she hadn’t remembered me, her self-professed favorite, last August when I came with the boys. I warn them that the smell on the second floor will hit them like a fucking brick. It’s clean, sure. Yes, it’s clean. But the smell is a sour smell, of people sick and dying, and windows shut, and antiquated plumbing. Like shit and resignation. 

We talk about Babcia, as we unpack in the hotel room. Should we go see her now? Should we eat pierogi first? Or wait for our dad? Our father lives here too. He’s come back looking for his old life. We grab our coats - eyes dehydrated, itching, the skin on pregnant V’s hands cracking, tiny bloody fissures on her knuckles. It’s four pm but time means nothing because we chased the sun across the Atlantic for eight hours - or maybe we ran from it. I don’t know. I know nothing. I am reduced to memories of a place that quivers and pulsates with my childhood, our childhood. The words “remember when” will be repeated a hundred thousand time in the next seven days. We will slowly forget our kids, we will never find enough sleep. We will laugh until our stomachs cramp. We will fall asleep to the sounds of an American stand-up comic, emanating from M’s iPad. 

We will laugh as our eyelids get heavy. We will cry even more.

My sisters and I had friends growing up; American friends, sometimes other Polish immigrant friends. We had lots of friends, and sometimes they were best bosom buddies. But no one knew us like we knew one another. No one understood where we had come from, what we’d escaped, or how far away we longed to run. There was no space between us. The only slim distance was in the way we formed our own memories, and told our own stories, to those who were willing to listen. There was no breaking us, even as we broke individually, bit by bit, sometimes together, sometimes alone. It was not until I moved into my first apartment with M, leaving V behind, that distance started setting. It was not until M moved away to California to follow a boy and her dreams, that distance became a fact, and for me - the enemy. 

Growing up, we spent our summers in a small, boring and beautiful city called Kielce. (I can hear M now - “Beautiful?! Come on, Dag!“) Every summer, for years and years. Boarding planes together, without mama and tata, waiting for bags marked with frayed fluorescent colored ribbons. Driving toward those mountains, willing those three hours from Warsaw to go by in a flash, staring at cows and ancient men walking along the road, in slanted brown berets, even in the heat of July. Weeks spent eating pork cutlets and sweet carrot soufflés, weeks falling in love, getting into trouble, listening to Babcia’s stories, staring down onto Toporowskiego Street from her limestone balcony. I wrote a novel about some of it once. The main character was a more poetic version of me, but there were no sisters. I knew, even in thinly veiled fiction, I could not touch their stories. I respected the space between us.

Last week, we deplaned in the airport that is now modern and renamed Chopin International. We’ve been back of course, as adults, with our own burgeoning families in tow, sightseeing and exploring. But it’s been almost two decades since those summers, when it was only us

Our Babcia is eighty-six now, and in the throes of Alzheimer’s. Last week, she did not remember my sisters or me. But that did not stop her from reaching out her hands - hands that felt as soft, unreal and light as if they’d been fashioned from some threadbare fabric, fingers like feathers settling on our cheeks. I should know you, you are my family, but I don’t remember you, Babcia said, fear in her eyes. But we remember you, that’s what matters, is what we answered, because what was there to say? “We used to spend the summers at your apartment, you made us kanapeczki, we slept on the futon in the little room.”  She listened as if we were spinning magical tales, feeding her snippets of a life that was fading fast from the recesses of her tired, confused mind. V had brought a plush teddy bear, as a gift, and Babcia reacted like a child. He will sleep with me, be my companion, and he will never leave my side. But what color is he? What is this color? We told her he was yellow, or amber, or beige, but none of those words sufficed. She couldn’t name the color she wanted to find. We wept, all at once, in small bursts of snot and tears. We didn’t want her to see us cry. But we cried anyway. 

We saw my dad too, who lives like the madman of Shiloh, things upon things, disarray that comforts him. We visited a family member who is in the last stages of addiction. Don’t look at me, he said, when he opened the door, but we looked, shock on our faces, at him who we had known forever, who had suddenly and irreparably aged a hundred years. We cried again, rummaging through familiar drawers to take something back to the nursing home for Babcia, to take something back to the States, souvenirs of another lifetime. Porcelain tea cups from all those summers of twilight herbatka, and pictures, and a blue plastic tumbler that held long-grained rice for more than forty years, a staple in the kitchen from our youth. A memory of Babcia spilling the contents and letting me play with it, as if the kitchen floor were a sandbox. So take it, just take it, my sister whispered, crying, quick with her hands, and slipped it into her bookbag. It was surreal, standing in that home that Babcia would never see again, that was now a mausoleum, a place unrecognizable, filled with cigarette smoke so bad that V had to flee.

Everywhere we went was bleak and gray, and strange, and still, it was some kind of wonderful. Everything was a demouemennt. Everything was so incredibly complicated. Everything was the end of the road. It was our goodbye trip. Goodbye to our beginning, to the memories we shared, to old bedroom walls and wizened faces. But despite that, and despite help that didn’t end up helping, and cash twisted into palms, and constant rain and jet lag that did not let up for a single goddamn minute - we walked together happily. We walked side by side. Two mothers now, and one about to become one. Three sisters, like a real life Chekhov play, with all its sentimentality and sad smiles. On our father’s pleading, we met with a young filmmaker at a pierogi cafe - yes, there are such things in our homeland - who was enthralled (her word) by our ‘story.’ Your father, his politics, his journey, you three girl from this town, living such a life now. She wants to make a documentary about us, and though we were flattered, I sat with my chin in my hand, reluctant to share us. We’ll be in touch, I said, because I could tell she was kind and earnest. But my heart tightened at the thought of our life in somebody else’s hands. 

Every day, we’d leave Babcia’s side and those nurses who glanced our way with quizzical smiles, raised eyebrows, who we’d showered with doughnuts, and pleas, and autographed pictures of my husband, as requested - and we promised to come back. We’d leave cramped, neatly furnished apartments of friends and family, we’d leave pothole ridden streets, and small hotel rooms, and we’d think the same thing. A fairy tale life was waiting for us, and how easy it would be to forget this. 

How impossible it would be to forget this. 

“I’m gonna have to write about it,” I told my sisters, “to help me process.” Process; an American verb. In places like Kielce, there is no room for such extravagance. 

But there is too much to write. In Warsaw, the rain fell harder but we felt lighter. The city was brimming with life, and sparkling skies and it brought us comfort. We shopped, and ate, in copious amounts. The food brought us memories, the good kind. In Warsaw, we allowed ourselves to breathe again. It was easier to reconcile with what we have - money, security, happiness, freedom, possibilities - with what we had once - nothing but tattered, battered, tangled dreams. I will not share details of our particular struggle - because everyone struggles, and because I am not ready to disclose, something that is not only mine, but what belongs to both of them, just as much.

Now, I sit in my office, back in America, and I miss the hell out of my sisters. Our trip is already another memory; something we dreamed up and somehow made come true. I think about the space we once occupied, and how beautiful it had been to be back there again, and how hard. I think about our story, and how it has a clear beginning, a winding long winded middle, and yet, there is no end, and there never will be one. I think about Babcia. I think about a day in August, circa 1991, a heat wave, packing pork chops on powdery white buns, and one towel each, and walking toward the reservoir toward the local pool. And how later, the walk back to Babcia’s was always better, when we were tanned, and smelled like chlorine, and the sun wasn’t setting just yet but was already worn out, and how the trees shaded us, and how we didn’t say much to one another, how we walked with a gaggle of age appropriate friends, separately, a good distance between us, but always, always our heads craning back to make sure were all still there, the three of us. 

kimdaily  asked:

1,12, 34, 40, 48

1. selfie

Here are some old ones that I’ve posted on here before. I would post a more recent one but I recently got a hair cut and my hair dresser fucked up my bangs and now I look like Kim Bok Joo so no LOL

12. what is something you want right now?

I want 10 billion dollars so I can drop out of school and open up a fansite dedicated to the one and only Park Jimin 🙌🏼

34. most embarrassing moment

So I have a black Honda Accord. I’m stupid and I think any black car is my car. One day I was walking to the parking lot after class and stupid me thinks the first black car I see is mine and try to get in. AND THE GUY WAS SITTING IN HIS CAR. He looked so scared.😔 I wasn’t embarrassed but I think it was an embarrassing moment? Same thing happened by my apartment a few weeks later lmao

40. favourite memory

Times I’ve spent in my childhood home 😊 My parents are moving so they are selling the house and it make me super sad thinking about it 😭 

48. turn offs

My biggest turn off is when a guy is clingy 24/7. Like no 🙅🏻

Get to know, pick some numbers.

so im in this small group at church with 5 other women and we’re all super different but it keeps things interesting. there’s this one girl and she’s a year younger than me with a baby, a baby on the way, and a foster child

and she’s super sweet but i want to FIGHT her husband

she thinks it’s her duty to be submissive to everything he says/does and last night she had left the car messy so he “took her car privileges away” AND DROVE HER PLACES AS PUNISHMENT

CAN YOU BELIEVE PEOPLE LIVE LIKE THIS. i didn’t say anything but i just HAD to get that out because man every time i hear about him i want to fight him that much more

I lost my apartment security pass (attached to my keys) today. The security pass is what allows me to get in and out of the elevator lobby, and in and out of special areas like the pool, gym, etc. I have a spare key but I can’t access the rest of the building with it. Which means I have to pay $100 for a replacement security pass which is also roughly the cost of a month’s worth of groceries for me, also like a day’s worth of wages… I looked in my car and I didn’t find them, which means they must have fallen out of my purse in the hospital, which is huge

I feel so, completely, utterly, totally horrible about this… I’m so careful with money and spending. I don’t buy food or drinks when I’m out with my friends to save money, I don’t go out to eat, and one loser mistake cost me $100 (maybe more) and I feel so horrible. This is the worst, such an expensive mistake, I never do things like this or waste money. 

I grew up thinking that in order to live a happy life, I had to get good grades and go to a prestigious university and get a highly paid job. But as I grew older I began to realise that in order to life a happy life, I had to choose it for myself and not live a life that others expect of me, whether it be your parents, teachers or friends. This is your life.

I made a decision that I didn’t want to be successful and live in a big house with fancy cars in the drive. So, I packed my bags and got out of this little town that had suffocated me for the last 18 years and drank coffee in small shops in Germany, chased the Horizon in Australia, woke up with a mountain view in Singapore. How beautiful is it to know that your feet have walked the grounds of many different countries and your skin has felt the air of many busy cities.

Please darling, do not get lost in society’s belief that you are only successful if you have a well paid job, like I once had. As humans, we are going to die, that is one thing we are guaranteed in life. What will you care about the most while lying on your death bed, your fancy cars, big house? Or the stories and experience you have encountered on the journey of this beautiful thing called life?

So there’s one thing I ask of you: please travel. Whether you’re 21 or 49. It is never too early nor too late so see the beautiful world.

—  i-wonder-lust 

I just have this headcanon that christophe and victor’s friendship is nothing but spending money and shenanigans like victor is already impulsive and out of control but chris is such a shameless ENABLER. Don’t tell me the reason victor has a hot pink $8 million cadillac convertible ISN’T because of Yuuri asking Victor to go pick out a car that was “reasonably priced and compact” and then Chris stepping in and being like ‘ew you don’t want the paparazzi taking pics of you in an ugly, soccer mom toyota corolla. No, get the one from the showroom thats a prized antique who cares if it’s millions of dollars IT’S FABULOUS YOU NEED TO BE FABULOUS.“ Victor pulls up in this ridiculous barbie car with Chris in the front seat with two pairs of ray bans on his head holding a 12-pack of wine coolers like "We made good decisions today” and yuuri storms out to scream at both of them.

Just Friends
  • Just Friends
  • Brian H. Kim & Nick Lachey
  • Star vs. the Forces of Evil - Just Friends
Play

From Star vs. the Forces of Evil - Just Friends.

It is weird seeing animated choreography to a song you wrote. It’s like, they’re dancing, but someone had to draw them dancing, so a poor artist in South Korea had to listen to this ridiculous song a million times to get the timing right, and then that poor artist got into his/her car at the end of the day and spontaneously burst into “be juuuuuuuust frieeeeeeends” as he/she pulled out of the RDK parking lot, and was like DAMMIT.

Anyway. @zachsleepshere saw me in the Star offices one day, and was like “Brian, we’re bringing Love Sentence back. They’re gonna sing out of a toothbrush.” 

“What?” 

“You know, those toothbrushes that have songs coming out of them so kids will brush their teeth.” 

“Right …. wait, what?”

AND THE REST IS HISTORY.

I wish I had a video of Nick Lachey singing this in the studio. That guy’s fun.

Best lyrics ever courtesy of @zachsleepshere and @brettvaron!

Viktor Nikiforov is the dork we love.

My favourite Viktor moments are when he is an adorable idiot.

I love exploring Viktor’s character because despite being the most senior character among the skaters and being seen as the one to chase and look up to, this boy truly does a lot of stupid things. To be fair, 27 is still quite young. It’s a shitty age when everyone plus their dog seems to think you know what you are doing except you. I can tell you all the weird decisions and unnecessary drama people have and get into at 27, but then this post will never end.

Now, we know about the whole banquet fiasco and the whole impulsively flying to Japan arms open, dick out thing, not to mention the whole car park “let’s shatter his heart” shenanigans, but I also have these screencaps stewing for maybe a month in my phone because I remember I was rewatching the show and these just made me go, “Oh, Viktor.”

Okay, so we know Hot Springs on Ice all started with Viktor’s idea…

…to which Yurio gamely accepts the challenge and issues his own (while Yuuri adorably panics in the background like the puppy he is)…

…which Viktor also accepts.

Look at him all excited.

Here, though, is where Viktor gets himself in trouble:

He’s been riling Yurio up the entire morning that the kid just up and threw a tantrum and demanded this prize. But then, no problem, since it’s not like Viktor had to accept or anything–

Yuuri’s face when Viktor agreed, though.

*sigh* Same, Yuuri. Same.

It seems that it’s not until later that Viktor realises the trouble he put himself in. At this point, we didn’t know yet just how invested Viktor was in Yuuri Katsuki (i.e., very invested and nursing a weird kind of crush, probably) and how important it is that he doesn’t coach just anyone, but Yuuri Katsuki only. How ever good Yuuri could potentially be, however, there was still a big chance that he could actually lose to Yurio. Yuuri sometimes choked during competition. Yurio, on the other hand, was the juniors gold medallist. There was a very real possibility that Yurio would win and Viktor to have to go back to Russia.

Having realised this, Viktor then began to sport this face:

Yeah, tell me about it.

This is Viktor during Yurio’s performance:

At this point, Viktor didn’t know yet that Yuuri had a breakthrough on his Eros performance. As far as he knew, Yurio was the one who found his Agape. While Yurio’s performance was not perfect, he was doing well enough. But Viktor does not want to go back to Russia. He wants to stay in Japan and get to know Yuuri Katsuki. He can choreograph for another skater, sure, but he does NOT want to be Yuri Plisetsky’s coach.

That, right there, is what Viktor Nikiforov looks like when he knows he is in very deep shit.

What’s interesting though is that these expressions were not really blatantly pointed out in the show. No one notices this, and Viktor just stands in his corner looking like that. With what knowledge we had at episode 3, we don’t know, maybe he just looks thoughtful because Viktor Nikiforov is just a mysterious character. Lol, but rewatching this after season 1 is over?

Yeah, Viktor. Because of you, for about an entire episode, we were in danger of never having the events that would lead to the kiss at the Cup of China, the exchange of rings in Barcelona, and the glorious masterpiece that is Yuuri’s record-breaking free skate. Viktor, Viktor, Viktor… sometimes just… *facepalm*

Thankfully, Yuuri DID find his Eros at the last minute, wins the competition, and consequently saves Viktor’s gorgeous but impulsive arse and gives us the wonderful events of season 1. Thank you, Yuuri! ♡

Lol, look at how happy and relieved this dork is:

There he is, ladies and gentlemen, our Viktor Nikiforov - king of impulsive decisions. For a long time we thought he was such a mysterious character. Now, we just… wtf, we know him better and we love him very much, but sometimes

Viktor, no. For fuck’s sake.

*sigh* Same, Yuuri. Same.

Bonus: Viktor during Yuuri’s Eros performance. He probably realised he’s safe at this point, and I bet he was enthralled again, and possibly getting turned on by Yuuri Katsuki falling in love again.

Oh, Viktor.

heavydirtymv
  • ends at night with a bang just like their shows
  • ends the same way it starts (circle, goner 2012 kind of thing, i’m sure you’ve heard this theory)
  • tyler mimes drumming throughout the video therefore
  • “can you save” is directed at josh and you can’t tell me otherwise
  • josh doesn’t get out of the way of the car because he’s the boy who lives and breathes plan a and he’d totally follow tyler even if his life turned out to be a total… …wait for it… … …….. wreck
  • the car misses josh because tyler can never intentionally direct his anger, jealousy, anxiety caused by mental illness at josh because how could he hurt a person who’s “important to [him]”, who’s “the love of [his] life”
  • josh’s drums go on fire because his problem is anxiety that has been probably flaring up because of the fame that his friendship & partnership in music making with tyler brought him
  • tyler’s in the backseat because blurryface driving is like having your life out of control because of mental illness and once you realize that you’re sick you have to take your life in your hands. but once that happens in the vid blurryface is gone from the driver’s seat because he’s a fucking coward nowhere to be seen. and what’s sad is that tyler doesn’t go to the front seat to try to save himself but he lets the car fall to pieces. (”i wanna crack the door so i can just fall out”…) it is a miracle that he has josh to carry on even without that metaphorical car.
  • at one point tyler makes a move like he was putting on a mask, also at the end he’s banging a metaphorical tambourine against his chest idk if this is relevant

So this magnificent person brought this picture to HousCon for j2 to sign: 

and shares the story of getting it signed here

‘…the volunteer called Clif…over to check it out. He said Jensen wishes he looked like that. I gave it to the handler and she starts giggling. Clif is waiting for Jensen to see it. She hands it to Jensen and he starts laughing. He says I wish I had guys who looked like that to wash my car. He signs it but keeps staring at it for like a minute and finally gives it back. 

I get in line for Jared….Jared’s handler who seems like a tough chick said ‘what the fuck!’ and then apologised and said Jared still kind of looks like that. She hands it to Jared and he’s like ‘oh my God’. Then he takes out his phone, scrolls through something and looks at the art again….Jared is comparing himself in a shirtless picture on his phone to a shirtless drawing of himself!!! He’s wondering why Jensen has the better abs. He signs it and tells me to draw him with more abs next time. I’m thinking ‘I didn’t draw it!’ but say ok I will!’

BUT WAIT THERE’S MORE! Someone else was at autos and witnessed this

‘I had seen [Jared] exclaiming over a girl’s art…From what I could see, I think there was a shirtless Dean. She left and we stepped forward. I was watching Jared, but somehow I looked up when all of a sudden here comes Jensen sauntering up to Jared’s table. Watching that man walk is a religious experience. Anyway, he came right up behind Jared and grabbed him in what looked like it was going to be a headlock, but turned into a really sweet hug with Jensen’s arm around his neck and his chin on his shoulder. Jared was in the middle of signing and didn’t really react, just smiled softly….Jared then said, ‘Hey! I just saw a picture of you with abs!’ Jensen…said ‘I haven’t had abs since 1992!’ and walked out the door. Jared said ‘yeah more like 19….30′ while looking at me since Jensen was already gone.’ 

THIS IS ALL PURE GOLD but that last bit in particular slakes my constant thirst for Jared calling Jensen an old man (’while looking at me’ etc I DIE). 

Some Things Nobody Tells You About Being in a Wheelchair

You’re gonna get all sorts of advice on how to think, what to think, how to be positive, how to keep abled-bodied people comfortable. However, almost nobody is going to tell you how to be disabled, if you catch my drift. Very few people actually want to talk about it, so without further adieu, here are some things I wish somebody told me:


-Getting out of your car in the rain is terrifying. It’s a slippery, wet hell.

-The snow is even worse. People are going to shovel into accessible parking spots. Or worse, they won’t shovel it. You will inexplicably have to cancel plans at some point or another due to the snow.

-Mud and dirt. All over your hands, all the time.

-Yes, your shoulders are going to be sore for the first few months, and anytime you over exert. 

-Yes, your butt is going to ache after sitting all day.

-Invest in side guards!! Seriously, they’ll save your clothes. I personally like the removable kind, because it’s easier to transfer with them off.

-Scissor breaks (or undermount breaks) are fantastic for saving your thumbs from the pain of jamming them on the break, however they’re more money.

-You will face-plant. It will happen, and it will be mortifying. We’ve all been there.

-Get some cycling gloves!

-People really do stare.

-They also really do ask inappropriate questions. Be prepared.

-The world isn’t all that accessible. Even when places claim to be, they aren’t always. Restaurants are a personal hell for me because the tables are always too close together and they never have accessible bathrooms.

-Your hands are going to get gross. Mine are calloused and nasty 24/7. If you get manicures then this won’t be as bad, but you’ll still have to say goodbye to smooth hands.

-Learn how to wheelie. You’re going to have to wheelie of curbs, bumps in the sidewalk, all the stuff.

-Your shoes are going to last forever, which is fantastic, but it’s almost impossible to break them in.

-If you put a backpack on the back of your chair (which you should) make sure it’s not too heavy, or else you’ll fall backwards when you wheelie.

-Keep your chair clean. Tweeze the grime and hair from your caster wheels at least every 4 weeks. Keep your tires full of air.

-Carry around an allen wrench in your bag or backpack. You might never need it, but if you do, you’ll be really glad to have it.

-If you’re planning of wear high heels, consider lowering your footplate so that your knees aren’t too high up.

-Consider getting a hand held shower head. It just makes life easier.

-High waisted pants and long tops are a blessing.