how tf do you reply to these

if you are still certain that mystal is real…

why did they only post HQ pics?
why were those HQ pics only taken four days prior?
why didn’t larzaylea get a photoshoot?
what was the purpose for that shoot - to show they are in love? who tf does that? even if you are famous.

if you still think @exposing-the-fakes is not legit…

how come she has predicted multiple things days or weeks in advance and they all came true?
how come when I SENT IN AN ANON SAYING “*waits for cashton to mock the pic*” and she replies “don’t make me call them” and then like less than a few hours later, oh sheit, CASHTON MOCK LARZAYLEA? (bc larzaylea is real and mystal is pr)

there is nothing wrong with mystal being strictly pr. so many celebrities do this. someone submitted to diana’s tumblr and they stated that the pr is like a brain wash. tabloids and gossip sites work on articles about the couples which causes you to think about that said celebrity without even realising that it’s promotion for their work. it is sad but thats how hollywood works, people. and no offence but crystal has made so many boo boos in this entire pr stunt. and shame on modest for hiring a girl who WORKS IN PR to be in the client couple. like at least with bryana it was more believable (though it was half real) and other PR couples (who i wont list because we dont need more drama) have been way more believable than this.

all i’m gonna say is check out @exposing-the-fakes and @xxheyitzcaitxx because they are legit. don’t go there sending hate but hold tf, lie low and watch their predictions come true, bitches.

Some lady got all pissy with me because she asked if we had glass cups. I told her “We dont usually carry them, but I think I saw some in our seasonal aisle” and she replied “What do you mean you THINK?” And I said “I mean ‘I think I saw some, but they may have been clear plastic, but I don’t know’ ” To which she angrily yelled “WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DONT KNOW. YOU WORK HERE DONT YOU? DUMB ASS” like we have thousands of products, and our seasonal stuff gets rotated a LOT. How TF do you expect me to know every single product -.-

Don’t Dream it’s Over: Chapter 1

Dan and Phil Soulmate AU: Soulmates share dreams. When people are young, they don’t dream at all. About half the world will never dream. But, the ones that do will live out amazing adventures or peaceful fantasies from the comfort of their own bed.
However, when Dan begins to have repetitive nightmares, he’s certain his soulmate is in grave danger. Amidst confusing pleas from his mysterious lover and clues that reveal something ugly, Dan might find something far worse than he ever expected.

Dan slept. He was sprawled backwards on the ground, picking right back up from their dream last night. Dan’s soulmate had taken him to a secret place- A tree house that seemed to have made itself with twisting and weaving branches, thick vines tying everything together and creating a simple way to climb up, once they’d gotten up, his soulmate had made short work of him. He pushed him down, straddling him on the wooden floor and pressing their lips together…

But tonight, for some reason, his soulmate was no longer there. Dan, with a mildly disgruntled huff, picked himself off the ground and looked around. It was empty, completely and utterly. He spun around, looking for the door- There had been a door, hadn’t there? Apparently not. The walls, floor, and roof were tightly wound together branches, and to Dan’s horror, continued to tighten.

“Hello?” Dan hollered. And again, more urgently, “Hello?!”

A hand reached through one of the few remaining gaps in the Treehouse’s wall, reaching wildly for Dan and a voice from the other side was saying something that Dan could not discern. Unsure why, he instinctively pulled away from the hand and pressed himself against the far wall. He was sure the hand belonged to his soulmate but its motions were off-putting, much like the owner was possessed or having a seizure. The Treehouse’s walls contracted further, pushing Dan towards the hand as dread weighed him down like iron boots. 

The overwhelming sensation of death, choking, and feathers brushing every inch of his skin through his clothes.

Dan awoke. Sweat dripped down his spine, his hair stuck to the back of his neck and forehead. Shaking slightly, he peeled his sheets away and slunk across his empty flat towards the washroom. A shower would make him feel better, wash away the nightmare. 

Nightmare? Dan was reeling. Nightmares were so unheard of. Of course he’d seen the segments in the news, read the personal accounts, but he couldn’t believe it would happen to him. Everyone knew that nightmares meant their soulmate was endangered, but the information that floated around the internet was vague and conflicting. 

He tilted his head back and let the warm water rush over him. Light was tickling his window sill, the sun just peaking over the London rooftops. It’s not real. It’s not real. He repeated the mantra in his head a few times, but couldn’t make himself believe it- dreams these days are far more real than they once were.

A damp towel draped over his neck and shoulders and boxers sufficed as clothes for now. Dan slouched into his office chair, fast fingers flying across his keyboard as he logged into The friendly butterfly animation appeared, flapping its dark wings at him, along with the logo for Doppelganger co.

Then his feed popped up, hundreds of people recounting their dreams in hopes their soulmate would see. It was rare. For some reason, soulmates hardly ever wound up together. It seemed like an impossible search that people would keep up their whole lives. Everyone just wanted to find their special someone, Dan figured.

He located the search bar, typing in a few tags. hands, tree, feathers, nightmare. Nothing. Scattered posts from strangers all describing dreams that were not Dan’s. He went out on a limb. 

Treehouse, Dan. One result. 

Come to the Treehouse, Dan. I miss you.” Posted three minutes ago by Phil Lester (amazingphil87).

Dan’s stomach dropped. This had to be for him. Six months of frolicking in his dreams with a boy who’s face he couldn’t see, who’s voice he couldn’t hear, who’s name he wouldn’t remember when he woke up. He clicked the profile as unexplained tears filled his eyes. 

He stared at the four uploaded pictures that Phil had. There he was, wearing large sunglasses and a larger smile, surrounded by friends of his. There he was, with a small dog in his arms and a smile on his face. There he was, licking an ice cream cone and making a mess of it. There he was, kneeling on the sidewalk, writing something in pink chalk.

Questions filled Dan up and spilled over the brim. How does he know my name? What does the message mean? How do I find him? What was the nightmare about? Is this some sort of joke? 

The page refreshed automatically, and a brand new post popped onto the screen:

Come to the Treehouse, Dan. I miss you. Please.” Posted twelve seconds ago by Phil Lester (amazingphil87). 

Dan’s eyes widened, and he opened Phil’s direct messages. 

danthaman: its me
danthaman: i swear if this is a prank
danthaman: i’m seriously creeped tf out please tell me youre okay

No reply. He waited, constantly refreshing, for almost half an hour with no reply, just Phil’s little green “online” icon mocking him. He was about to type another message when the green dot turned dark blue and his status went to “offline.”

“Fuck! What the fuck?” Dan yelled, slamming his hands down on his keyboard, surprising himself and Bandi, who hopped off his bed and slunk into the living room, her tail low. 

Hitting the keyboard, however, was a lucky mistake, because it brought Dan back to Phil’s profile and he saw one last post. 

Come to the Treehouse, Dan. I need you.” Posted eight minutes ago by Phil Lester (amazingphil87).

“Screw it.” Dan mumbled, glancing at the clock. 7:01. He stood, stretched, popped a couple ibuprofen and a sleeping pill, and went back to bed.

Next Chapter

anonymous asked:

your dumbass. i like any colors, but pastel colors are my jam ❤ favorite ship??? it might have to do something with the dumba$$ and the $hit. vanilla ice cream is a go-to for me 🍦 i used to have like at least 392019 cats dont ask me where they went idk ok + and you're welcome, u stupid king of my heart 💛

hey egg,
Pastels are very soft and nice I agree,
ah yes of course
And ok but have you considered… French vanilla… bc it’s real good

anonymous asked:

from a shoma fan to another, how do you deal with all the criticism towards him? i see people claiming his quads are just triple-and-a-half jumps, that he has no decent skating skills, no expression, he's a cheater and is consistently overscored. i sometimes feel bad for liking him so much because i can't spot all these technicalities, i just enjoy his skating, but... i don't know.

how do i deal? i just don’t care, most of the time. he’s a top skater now, and pretty popular; of course he’s going to get criticism. i’ve been a skating fan long enough that i just don’t have the energy to get upset about every little thing. i guess i’ve just reached the point where i’m confident in my opinions (though always open to learning) and in what i like.

shoma has plenty of faults. some people who don’t like him exaggerate them, which is stupid, but his faults are still there. some of his fans also exaggerate his good points, which i think is equally stupid, but his good points are still there too. if you enjoy his skating, go ahead and enjoy it, you don’t need validation from anyone for that. as you learn more about skating you’ll be able to understand the technical aspect more and understand why shoma gets the criticism he does (even if it’s blown out of proportion sometimes). but as long as there’s something about his skating that draws you, as long as there are more things about him that you like than dislike, then what’s the problem? at least, that’s how it is for me - and i realize i’m probably speaking from a very different perspective from you.

anonymous asked:

God every single ask you get on here, whether its nice or not, you always reply in a snarky and defensive way. And its sad cause no matter how many people tell you you're being a cunt, you dont care. "Its my blog i can do whatever i want lolololol", that doesn't give you the right to be a downright bitch to everyone. Mental illness or not, that doesn't give you a free pass.

Who said I’m blaming anything on my mental illness? I said nothing of the sort lol. And maaaaan, not everyone is going to like me, so I’m just going to be myself with what I want to say. Sugar coating to get likes? I’m not E 🙃🙃🙃
Boohoo I don’t respond how you want me to? Who tf cares? You don’t like my replies? ……UUH DON’T MESSage me???¿!!!

yo how tf do you define “mutuals” i was talking to this girl and i pointed out that we were mutuals and she replied “oh we are? i thought we just followed each other last month” what

anonymous asked:

How do you know EBR was shooting Arrow yesterday? Your screen grab says today.

Here’s a link to the tweet. You can see the date. The word “too” implies Emily shot for Arrow as well. Apart from Black Lightning, which films in Atlanta, the other 4 CW DC shows shoot pretty close to each other in Vancouver.

Also [whispers] You wanna know a secret, nonnie?

[clears throat]

When Canadian paps mentions Arrow’s filming in studio. It means Emily is usually filming as well. She doesn’t film on location much.

And if your next question is “How do you know it was re-shoots for TF 405?” Tweets in reply mention those deets.

redempticnarc  asked:

'slurred words' modern or t100 ANY VERSE tbh


                      i don’t get you,  y’know.  words are a little strung together,  drinking more than what was appropriate.  but no one was dying and holy shit,  does her brain need a break.  you used to act like such a dick and now you’re so not a dick.  like,  good guy in the midst of everything terrible ever happening.  how do you go from that to that?  i mean,  it’s good.  you’re so much more likable now.  i like that you’re all,  a good person now.  it’s nice.  i approve of you marrying abby.  you should.  i will tell her you want to,  if you want.  because you totally do.  no one looks at someone like that and doesn’t want to marry the crap out of them.  i could be a great wingman for you two.  you’d have pretties babies.  and you’d be a good dad.

anonymous asked:

how do you come out to someone if you're asexual tf it's confusing because people are usually accepting it doesn't make sense

omg anon are you asking me how to come out or just in general? you should message me off anon if so bc i have A Lot to say about coming out in general since i’ve done it like 5 times but also i’m not asexual so just keep that in mind :o but still !!!!! yeah message me ilysm

anonymous asked:

So I know you love Adam's filthy mouth bUT get this: Adam attempts to sext, Ronan almost smashes his phone because it makes him incredibly embarassed but it's also extremely hot

YOU ASKED ANON (i sin because i care)

  • so when adam first saves up enough to be able to get his own phone he texts ronan like hi it’s adam, gansey gave me your number. I hope that’s okay
  • and ronan mr i-never-use-my-phone replies within 5 minutes: welcome to the 21st century parrish
  • and adam ends up pretty addicted to his phone like… he can’t believe phones can actually do so much and he’s always asking noah to show him how to do things and he spends about half an hour picking out which little jingle he wants for his text alerts and yes. adam parrish is very much excited about his new phone
  • so he’s lying in bed at st agnes one night and he texts ronan like: what are you doing?
  • and ronan replies: why are u still awake?
  • I only just got back from work and now I can’t sleep. I feel restless
  • ok
  • do you know what I do sometimes when I can’t sleep?
  • what?
  • now adam’s fingers are shaking as he positions them over the screen to tap out his reply, he’s feeling brave in the darkness and the fact that he can pretend it’s not really ronan who he’s talking to. he considers for only a moment that he might regret this…
  • I touch myself
  • now let me just take you over to ronan for a second because look you need to picture ronan receiving this message.
  • he’s already nervous because he gets so fucking nervous every time adam texts him, especially at night when he’s lying in bed… but usually he’ll tell him about something funny he found online or he’ll ask him about homework
  • adam parrish doesn’t sext… or at least adam parrish didn’t sext
  • and ronan doesn’t know what to say! he’s so embarrassed! but he’s also so turned on because now all he can think about is adam parrish doing… that!
  • I guess it just helps me to relax idk is that weird? does it help you to relax?
  • ronan wants to throw his phone across the room now because he is farfrom relaxed and he can’t decide if adam knows what he’s doing and he’s being a fucking smug bastard, or if he’s genuinely just telling ronan how he relaxes at night?
  • and adam sends him another message before he even has time to begin to process what’s going on: shit now i’m just thinking about you getting yourself off. Is that bad? should I stop?
  • shit-the-fucking-bed ronan is thinking right now… but to adam he types back with clammy fingers: no
  • adam responds in seconds: are you doing it now? don’t spoil it and say you’re not because I am
  • and ronan lets one hand wander down his body as he replies: shut up
  • tell me how it feels
  • shut tf up
  • that good hm?
  • then a few minutes later he adds: fuck ronan

  • they don’t talk about this night until months later because ronan is intensely embarrassed and adam is too scared to confront ronan for fear of being hit in the face
theodosiani replied to your post: bioware: orlesians smoke kohl pipes! me: ….. me:…

//wait do they mean they smoke pipes made out of stibnite because that is DANGERoUS

i mean i was assuming the “kohl” was what was inside the pipe but maker only knows. current theory: kohl is a synonym for “black” here, and it’s a pipe in that it’s vaguely tube or pipe shaped. it’s a clove cigarette but they wanted to make it sound fantasy-ish. but tbh who the heck knows what gaider had in mind when he wrote that.

Platonic Scömìche

So guys:
1) I am a Scömìche shipper because I am easily held captive by the feels and they sure don’t slack on providing them.
2) I am also 100% pure Scolex trash (like literally put me on the curb) because one of my dorks has found another dork who he really loves and who loves him back just as much and gah.
So anyways, sometimes I see comments on Superfruit’s pics or vids that are like “just friends my ass, friends don’t do that” and I’m not coming for anyone here who ships them hard, imagination is beautiful. But I’m like “…yeah just friends can do that cuz I literally know”.

I have a best friend of thirteen years ( my-oreo-cookie #promo)
And she is the Scott to my Mitch (she also is just under Scott’s height by an inch, go figure.) We share freaking EVERYTHING, clothes, food, passwords, wifi(thats how you know its real deep, lmao), you name it. And we talk to each other about everything. We can talk to one another for hours. We don’t have to hide any emotions or how we’re really doing from each other. We are rarely pissed at one another and it doesn’t stay that way for long if we are. Its the type of relationship where she can message me “F*ck you” and I can reply “time and where”. We can insult tf out of each other and flirt with each other and compliment each other and its normal, its us.

We sit in each others laps, we lay on top of each other, we dance on each other. I can literally walk past her and grab her boob in public and vice versa and if she tells me she’s wearing a cute bra I have no prob looking down her shirt to see it or vice versa. I can walk with her and hold her hand (she’ll tell you that I drag her along while she tries to figure out why we’re even friends) And it just is. Its just comfortable.

We don’t even have to look at each other full on to communicate, we can share SO many inside jokes with a side glance or a syllable or a sound. We share common interests and even if we’re not familiar with something the other person likes, we still listen to each other blabber on about it because its something we like and therefore its important. And even if we have little to zero interest in the same thing, we still file away stuff to kill the other person with later. And we freak over cute guys together and ship each other with people that each person likes and tease one another about it.

And if she finds someone who’s her “it” then I will probably be the biggest shipper ever and I WILL plan the wedding (fight me Keli, I dare you). But at the same time she is the wife and she is and always will be priority over a lot of things in my life and vice versa (it better be).
So this basically was just a post gushing about my best friend who I love very much. But yeah, I ship Scömìche, but I also understand the sheer platonic-ness of it. I get how they are so close without it meaning “OMG BOYFRIENDS” and thats part or why I love their dynamic so much.

anonymous asked:

For karabita: Laundry? Did karamatsu ever learn to do any chores?

time to attempt to learn how tf to write karamatsu’s dialogue, haha. hope you like this short lil tidbit! 

When Karmatsu asks, “Ah, my friend, why has such a strange expression graced your lovely face?” it’s a little difficult for Chibita to bite his tongue instead of reply, “I just wasn’t expecting you to be competent enough to fold laundry.”

Instead, Chibita says, “You fold shirts different.” Which is at least partly true, because Chibita doesn’t fold his shirts at all. He finds it a waste of time - what’s the point in folding something you’re just going to hang up in a closet anyway? Same with his pants and shorts. Sometimes Chibita will fold them over just to make them smaller, a little more flat, but the small man can’t honestly remember the last time he sat down and folded clothes. 

Karamatsu, however, was now surrounded by neatly folded garments belonging to both of them. Rather than separate them into two piles (one for him, one for Chibita), he was sorting them by color. The fact that he was mixing them up should’ve annoyed Chibita, but mostly it just made his stupid heart beat a little too hard.

Putting a finger to his chin, Karamatsu nodded, and dished out a painful grin. “But of course! In order to do laundry quickly, one must learn to grab hold of their daring heart and take risks! Only the most efficient and effective method is worth the trouble at all…”

Chibita snorted. “You make it sound like you’re running a marathon.”

Karamatsu only smiled, and Chibita watched him pull another shirt - one of Chibita’s - from the basket. The smaller man then watched as Karamatsu skilfully snapped the shirt free of wrinkles, then did something with his hands, and suddenly it was a neat little rectangle. 

Chibita’s nostrils flared. “Ehh?? How the hell did you do that, idjit?”

With a deep chuckle (a real one, Chibita noted, and then frowned - how come he could tell the difference?) Karamatsu placed the shirt in the pile of yellows. “Quite often, I would take it upon myself to relieve my siblings of their laundry duty. In a house of eight, there’s often quite a lot to get done.”

“So folding a hundred shirts every week made you a master,” Chibita grumbles. His roommate said he ‘took it upon himself’ to do the laundry, but Chibita knows better. The other five shittymatsus probably either convinced, threatened, or simply dumped the chore on Karamatsu, knowing the second-eldest wouldn’t protest. He did that a lot around the house too - doing things either without prompting or as soon as Chibita suggested it. 

It was a surprise, honestly. Most of Chibita’s trepidation with accepting Karamatsu’s request to move in was thinking he would be a messy, useless roommate. It seemed the guy was pretty well-versed in keeping up with chores, though. It must’ve been a much lighter load in comparison too, given there was only one other person to worry about and not seven. 

Karamatsu doesn’t hear the bitterness in Chibita’s tone (the oden stand owner half-suspects Karamatsu learned how to completely tune out ‘bitterness’ and ‘sarcasm’). Instead he chuckles again and says while folding a disgustingly bedazzled pair of jeans, “Just call me sensei! I shall teach you the ways of laundering.”

Chibita cant help a snicker. He shifts so he’s sitting next to his roommate. “Alright then, Karamatsu-sensei, show me how to do that thing with the shirt.”