okay, i don’t know if you guys heard yet, but tyler got attacked last night at reading fest. he went crowd surfing and was completely violated. his shirt got ripped to shreds and they stole his shoes.

do you see his face? how terrified and surprised he looks? he is human just like the rest of us, and in no way deserves to be treated like this. there’s speculation that the perps weren’t clique, since it was a concert festival, but still. this situation also gives an explanation for the hamster ball. besides all the memes, that was really the only safe way without something like this or worse happening. this should never happen to anyone, not just tyler, but anyone. imagine being josh and watching your best friend being attacked in a crowd of people? just horrifying. i truly hope both boys are okay and tyler isn’t hurt in any way. if you would like to view the video of the situation click here. stay alive |-/

anonymous asked:

75 + 56 for Steve

56. Are you ready? / No, I’m not ready at all! | 75. Just kiss each other already! Prompt idea list here

The wind was blowing all around you in the Quinjet. The back hatch was open, revealing the ground hundreds of metres away. You were so high up the landscape seemed to bend at the horizon.

You took a shaky breath. This was your first time parachuting into a mission. Steve was helping you put on your parachute, adjusting the straps accordingly. “Are you ready?” he said as he fixed the last strap.

You shook your head vigorously. “No, I’m not ready at all! I can’t do this!”

Steve smiled reassuringly and put his arm on your shoulder. He leaned in close to your face. “Listen to me, (y/n). You’re one of the bravest people I know. If anybody can do this, it’s you. I’ll be with you on the comm the whole way down, okay? You’ll be fine, I promise.”

Behind you, Tony rolled his eyes. “Just kiss each other already!” He yelled over the wind. “If you’re not going, I’m going.” He pushed his way between you two, his mask closing over his face. He jumped and fell for half a second before his thrusters kicked in and propelled him through the sky. It must’ve been easy with an Iron Man suit.

Tony’s outburst made you blush. You hoped Steve couldn’t tell, but something told you he noticed. He moved to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, which only made you blush harder. “You can do this, (y/n). I know you can,” he said as he strapped on his helmet. He slipped on a parachute of his own and winked. “I’ll be waiting for you at the bottom!” On that note, he jumped.

You blinked hard. “I can do this,” you reassured yourself out loud. You took a deep breath.

And then you jumped.

anonymous asked:

Can i request a scenario with Gaara coming home late from work to see his wife/girlfriend asleep in one of his shirts on the couch please?

It seemed as though all Gaara had been staring at for the last few years of his life were the mountainous stacks of paperwork on his desk that only seemed to grow larger the more he worked on them, and yet finally, he was caught up. He knew that when he returned tomorrow, there would be another stack, just as high as the last, and the one before that, and he sighed to himself. 

Eyeing the clock on the wall of his office, he nearly groaned when he saw that it was half past midnight. Forcing his stiff joints to stand from his chair, Gaara left his office, running a hand over his face in a half-motivated attempt to keep the impending sleep off at least until he could get home to Y/N.

Y/N had been a part of Gaara’s life for a while now, doing all the little things for him that he could think of, before he thought of them. Make his coffee in the morning just the way he likes it, remind him to eat and sleep at a semi-regular schedule, tell him when the bookshelf in his apartment was dusty, even did his laundry. Gaara wished he could do more for Y/N, as he felt like he was never there for them. 

Unlocking the door to their apartment, Gaara shuffled inside as quietly as possible, so as not to wake Y/N. He was almost to the door of their bedroom, when a loud snore echoed from the couch. He chuckled to himself bittersweetly, Y/N must have fallen asleep waiting up for him.

Walking up to the back of the couch, he leaned over, freezing a little at the sight. Y/N was laying on the couch, completely asleep, wearing one of his shirts, which was incredibly large on their small frame. A smile formed on his lips. Seeing them in his t-shirt reminded Gaara that Y/N loved him for him, and that he loved her just as much.

Moving around the couch, he picked up Y/N, and carried them to their bed, kissing their forehead goodnight.

- Admin Rey

Bran wouldn’t say it was the smoothest reintroduction to the tower, but it was enough for Titania. Everything was going as planned with the courts and his tributes were entertaining to say the least. Rosaline was beside herself which was amusing and confusing at different times. He could see the suspicion in Isabelle’s face clear as day, so it was River who was left. His memories of the man were like shredded photos littered about his mind. He’d had to relearn the man’s last name, and his children’s names. The Merrick family didn’t think much of him. He was the man who’d married Glitter Rousseau, a legacy in District One. He’d ended the potential for four generations of victors.

Bran swung onto the fourth floor late one afternoon. Smiling as he walked in. “River? You around?” he called.


cryinglarrie  asked:

i like to think that andrew smiles when the us court wins olympics. nora said that's when neil pulls him into a bone crushing hug and honestly? andrew never thought he'd be here. neil never thought he'd be here. but now they're both here in front of the entire world proving just what they're worth and no one is trying to get a shot at them and they're safe and neil feels completely at home and somehow that brings. a fleeting smile to andrew's face & that's enough to last neil a lifetime goodbye

STOP I CANT ADD ANYTHING I LOVE THIS SM GOD FUCK like??? i know this. i know that andrew ends up happy in his own way like hes never gonna be the conventional happy average person way but he’ll reach the maximum level of happiness possible for him and i love that like. even if he doesnt smile? it doesnt mean hes not happy and thats all i care about i just want andrew to be as well as he can be and he eventually makes it and thats all i care abt

The Cow Walrus Panda Man

Before turning his back to the mailbox, the scruffy shaman noticed one last letter stuffed into its basin. He grabbed it and swiped a clean tear across the envelope’s edge with his claw. The short parchment unfolded with a soft crackle.


I still am not sure what sort of Tauren you are. Riz and Saeris mentioned the Pandaren Tribe. Regardless you were very light footed for their kind. Keep winds in the sails or Saeris’ may get you all lost at sea.

Until we meet again,
         Kurel An’Diel


The cow-walrus-panda man was unamused. Seo-yun’s face fell hard and flat into an… admittedly comical glare. Huffing through his nose, he stuffed the letter into a pants pocket and stomped toward the Undercity.

“Asshole…” he grumbled.


So uh.. I might leave the EW fandom. Maybe it’ll be just a break, but I’m just super disappointed in the little group that gives the fandom such a shit reputation. The fandom has fucking run one of its own creators out of the fandom, which means there’s a total of TWO real life people we’ve pushed out. That’s fucking ridiculous. I feel guilty for what others have done, and I feel guilty knowing that Tom’s last experience with the fandom he helped to build completely ended up with them figuratively spitting in his face, despite all he’s fucking done for us. Fandoms don’t get better, you’ve seen this with the Undertale or FNAF fandom- they simply rot, no turning back. There’s always that group of people that ruin it for the rest of everyone. I’m sorry to Tom that he had to experience such negativity from this fandom, and I’m sorry to all of the people affected by their actions.
But for now, that means halting 99% of my fanart for the fandom, and also halting production on chapter 20 of my fanfic. I’m sorry to everyone that has been negatively affected by the terrible parts of this fandom.

// Victor: The Masquerade

Mariska had woken up that morning still shaken from the previous night’s events and even as she finished her preparations for the ball that evening, the feeling had yet to disappear. As loathe as she was to admit it, Victor had gotten beneath her skin and she had thought of little but him the entire day. Knowing that she would now have to endure yet another evening of trying to keep her composure around him, in public no less, almost made her want to skip the ball entirely.

Be that as it may, there were several other people expecting to see her that evening. The questions they would have, should she not show, were more than she was prepared to deal with. So with one last look into her mirror Mari adjusted the diamond encrusted mask obscuring her face and deemed herself fit to leave.

Noel had already departed for the ball on his own so that left Mari with just her guards. Truthfully, she should have allowed Victor to escort her that evening but she desperately needed the space. Whatever spell he had weaved on her was hard to break and she had feared that, if left alone with him again, she would have said or done something she’d later regret. It was best for them to meet again among the rest of the crowd.

So consumed with her own thoughts, Mari hardly realized that she had already arrived at the ballroom. Slowly she took survey of the room, trying to decipher who was who. The guests had done an excellent job of masking their identities, though. She couldn’t confidently identify a single one of them. Maybe that meant Victor wouldn’t be able to find her either? But as soon as that thought crossed her mind a worried feeling settled into the pit of her stomach. Did she want to be lost among the crowd, indistinguishable from all the rest? She would have liked to say yes, but in truth the answer was no. She hated herself for it but there was definitely a part of her that was eager to see him again. It was the part of her that she was trying so desperately to banish.

Slipping quietly through the crowd she found her way to the display of refreshments and politely requested a glass of wine from the staff. The sweet drink soothed both her throat and her nerves as she took another look around the room for her betrothed. “Everyone sure has outdone themselves tonight, have they not?” She said with a quiet laugh as she glanced to the masked gentleman who had just drawn up beside her. “I do not think I recognize a soul. Not even my own brother and I know what he’s wearing.”

                  last night’s events completely blurred out of focus by overpriced liquor, chicago attempts to collect his thoughts only to feel a throbbing pain begin to knock adamantly at his skull. he knows he deserves it — no one but himself inflicted the splitting headache dissuading him from another moment of sleep. as his surroundings gradually materialize through clouded vision, his brows furrow at the silhouette of a body next to him. only until he squints his eyes does the image of simone’s face begin to sharpen in his view, impelling him to curse beneath his breath. “man — what the fuck? again with this shit.” he mumbles as his memories of yesterday begin to flood back into his mind in suffocating waves, covering his face with his palms.

//- According to the player going through the character creation file, this is Lahabrea’s current face.

“ Lahabrea has four different models. One is just like Elidibus but with face 5. One is just like Elidibus but with dark hair. One uses Thancred’s head. The last one though? The last one, his HW model, is different “

I wonder if there’s any signifigance or if they just gave him a face like they did with pre 3.3 Estinien…

For Danton,

I, the youngest sit at a table.
The summer glow hangs above a small coffee shop, and fills it with vividness inbetween small slits of light.
Across me are a dewy doe-eyed frolicking daisy dream girl, and an efortless silver-tongued poet. Both friends of mine with a place saved dearly in my heart.
They giggle amid him blowing foolish bubbles through a straw while sipping lemonade, looking at each other, eyes full of fear, hope, and as cheesy as it sounds love.
She kisses the cynical smile off his face secretly when the whole world has their eyes closed and is being bitter over other people and other lovers.
I am one of those bitter people.
He is leaving,
and she is now memorising the way he lights up with passion when he talks about something he adores. Be it his mother, favourite artist or the place he grew up in. She grasps onto every single second and counts every single last day that she has left with him as if they were her final hours alive.
His friends come round to the table, to say their goodbyes and she droops her head low. Masking her split pieces with glue and tearing them apart again every single time he glances at her.
She melts memories into liquid pain.
I want to hold her, so tight that her bones could have a possible chance of re-ignition.
But he, is caught up in the knots of her messy curly hair, and cannot get out. Their interwined hands are in knots and she is caught upon the sleeve of his coat.
He is starting a new life, and she has more to come ahead of her.
So, he kisses her salty cheeks and finally understands,
that she,
is the poem he has been wanting to write for so long.

—  purely platonic