i swear to god this year was the worst

This is not the year for boy groups….

- L.Joe left TEEN TOP 

- Kevin left U-Kiss

- The amount of underrated groups on Produce 101

- The Legend Disbanded

- History Disbanded

We are not even half way through 2017. I can only hope the rest of the year gets better

Product review?

Wtf am i doing with my life? Okay so i got a sample of some random korean beauty products the last time i ordered something online…like you always do, you know those little things. And there was this one packet of something with this long ass description of super vague korean trendy words translated into english that all make sense but like…what is this stuff? It said essence and i see the word moisture and so i put it on my face one night before bed because whats the worst that can happen right?

and i swear to god i woke up with my fucking FACE FEELING LIKE MAGIC holy shit it made my skin so nice.
So i tried it the second night and i swear to god ive gone BACK IN YEARS with only two days of using this stuff, what the actual fuck.
So i look at it again and its, hilariously called Snail 96. And im like okay so it has the souls of 96 snails in it, thats cool.

Well i bought a bottle today on amazon and AFTER i paid for it im reading and it says 96% Snail mucin….mucin sounds…kinda…

So i googled “what is snail mucin” and guys…its the slime.

Its 96% snail SLIME and im willingly rubbing it all over my face and ive never felt more alive.

I didnt even cancel the order. Im gonna let these fuckers slime me, i dont care.

okay the brand is Cosrx and its called Advanced Snail 96 mucin power essence and i got it for less than $15 bucks on amazon. Someone just said something about horse spit in the replies and im….man i love korean cosmetics, theyre so brave hahaha

You 1, Tony 0

Author: AvengeSuperWhoLock

Word Count: 898

Pairing: TonyxReader (best friends)

Summary: Based on this imagine: Imagine winning an argument that you and Tony Stark are having, and the rest of the Avengers all being super impressed.

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  • A FFXIII gif/photoset: *hanging out, having a good time being reblogged and liked by fans*
  • Some irrelevant dumbass: I’m gonna comment on this post being enjoyed by people and talk about how FFXIII is the worst FF in the series.
  • Me, who’s been dealing with this shit for 7 years: I'm gonna make you look right into my cold, dead, pissed off eyes and have you say that again while I drag you down to hell with me.

anonymous asked:

You know what annoys me? Harry can apparently thank his interviewers (who are literally just doing their jobs) and has done so twice now but can't thank fans even once (you know, the people who are voluntarily supporting him - not even after they got him to number 1 in the uk)

Anon, you know I’ve been saying that for weeks! It’s so fucking rude. So rude to the very “teenage girls” he purports to support. (While writing songs about mothers dying and having five minutes to tell their infants to take over the world. Yeah OK.)

Should we brace ourselves for hendall 100.0 may be this time the yacht will be cannes for the festival.. cause why not

Yeah, I’d hope they’d find someone else, but hey.

I think what most annoys me about this whole thing is that the very same bloggers who were speculating we were going to get a coming out (in Another Man first, remember?) or at least a soft coming out or at least not stunting with girls are now like, “What did you idiots expect? He’s closeted!” I mean, I strongly suspected this was coming

But what pisses me off is several large blogs in the fandom acting like people who are upset are stupid when those same fucking blogs were pushing this idea that this time would be different. When those same fucking blogs would trash any of the other men for saying this. When those same fucking blogs pushed the Azoffs as saviors. Just like, admit you were wrong. Admit you don’t know things. Admit that your “sources” are all bullshit.

Or at least  admit that you think Harry is better than anyone else (including Zayn) and that he “deserves” all of the good he gets.

I also want to pull out some bits from an old post (Feb 10th, 2017):

[A]t some point–when they’ve all hired new teams, etc–you have to say “hey, they chose to hire those teams.” Celebrity is a job, and these are the people they’ve hired to help them do their jobs.


This also applies to Harry choosing my-metric-is-I-woke-up-and-continue-to-manage-to-breathe Jeff. Harry’s image hasn’t changed at all, so he obviously needs/wants/likes the “aloof hipster who doesn’t mention a single bandmate by name and makes it clear by side talking (in the AM interview) that 1D isn’t coming back” image.


These aren’t teenagers any more. They’re adults who know how the industry works. I know this side of the fandom likes to forgive the men for everything that we don’t like/don’t agree with, but they aren’t gods who belong on some pedestal. I’m too old to pretend that human beings are perfect, and that applies to all of the men.

C’mon folks. This isn’t Rolling Stone magazine making shit up. This is his image. It’s the same one that’s been cultivated for years.

Are people really that blind. Do they think Harry or his team has no say in what has been written in this magazine. Or its only harry who gets the benefit of doubt and the others are accountable for what are being said abt them. This fandom is swimming in a delusional world. Such a shame

Yeah, Harry is the only one who gets the benefit of the doubt. And the huge double standard (Harry can do whatever the fuck he wants and not criticized for it by the majority of the fandom) is part of why I started unfollowing a lot of the…more vocal and “connected” Larries who seemed to try and control how people reacted. It’s also why I checked my own behavior about Zayn.

The fifty year anniversary issue? Lol for days.

I actually saw a post about how he was the first to do SNL coast to coast, and this, and something else, all about he’s a history maker. Dude has good connections, I’ll give him that. Too bad they still haven’t made me like his image.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

But hey, I’m looking forward to getting my copy of Rollacoaster! I am crossing my fingers for a good interview and prepared for the worst.

Sweet Lavender (Wonwoo)

From the beginning 


When your building is about to get demolished and Wonwoo and his roommates are about to lose their place because they can’t afford the rent alone, desperate measures bring an unlikely bunch together. 3 boys and 2 girls living together in one share house; what could possible go wrong? Welcome to Sweet Lavender.

Word count: 5645

Chapter 2

Living with other people meant that you’d have to share a part of yourself with them. You never really knew what someone was really like until you moved in with them, it’s why couples always get a harsh wakeup call once they move in together. But when you’re living with complete strangers, the lines tend to blur.

“So you mean to tell me that you guys eat ramen for breakfast…?” You gape, looking at the three boys in disbelief. Seoyeon looked amused as they avoided your gaze sheepishly. You weren’t a health nut or anything, you pretty much lived off of ramen too, but eating ramen after fasting all night was hardly healthy. You didn’t care about eating healthy but eating something at least mildly nutritious was important for breakfast.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

So one time I was going to take this massive dump and right as I had my pants around my ankles I saw there was no toilet paper and I swear in that moment god was with me, looking out for me. Fast forward a few days and the unholy fire raining from my anus was the worst in my 24 years alive. It was fire and brimstone and garlic and pain. That moment it came to me in total clarity that god is dead. He wouldn't subject me to such pain. There is no god.

anonymous asked:

Ever smoked weed and took a handful of Benadryl? I did that a few years ago and I swear I saw the gates to hell but I was really calm about it because of the weed. It was a really interesting experience.

I SAW THE GATES OF HELL. i did that and i swear to god that was, without any exaggeration, the absolute worst experience i have ever lived through. i think i honestly rather kill myself than ever go through that again. i cant even describe what that was like. i had taken shots of vodka, 6 benadryls and smoked a lot of sativa.

Missing Lams Letters:

“Dear Alex: I drew you as a unicorn, ok, you can stop asking now.”

“Dear John: Please stop sending me stuff. I appreciate the thought, but Lafayette said those shirts each cost like, 3 years’ salary, and I’ve been using them as tourniquets. Rich people, I swear to God.”

“Dear Alex: Please stop sending me stuff. The turtle was very dead by the time it arrived.”

“Dear John: Dude, Lafayette got his head stuck in a tree. Like, inside the hollow of a tree. He says he tripped but I think he was chasing a squirrel.”

“Dear Alex: I have literally died and gone to hell. Look. Look at that. I literally dripped sweat onto this letter. South Carolina in the summer is the worst fucking thing to happen to the world.”

“Dear John: Lafayette wants you to draw him as a werewolf.”

“Dear Alex: ‘Length of my nose’ is the least sexy euphemism you could have possibly thought of, btw.”

“Dear John: I met a girl. How did I convince you that I wasn’t just after your money.”

Speaking of restaurants, here’s one: what’s the worst restaurant experience you’ve ever had?

I’ve probably told this story before, but it’s a good one, so I can get away with repeating it now and again.

So: a few years, my boss invites me and several co-workers to a company dinner - no special occasion, just a basic social get-together. Our reservations are at a fancy restaurant on the outskirts of town. None of us have ever been there before, but the boss says he’d heard good things.

I swear to whatever gods you hold dear, this place is like walking into an allegory about the fleeting nature of mortality.

As we enter the foyer, the first thing I notice is the smell: dry and dusty, with a faint whiff of antiseptic. The dude at the coat check is short, slender, and about a million years old. He’s wearing a threadbare black suit and stained white gloves, and his hands shake as he exchanges our coats for beat-up plastic tokens. He doesn’t speak or make eye contact at any point.

Inside, I can tell the place had been quite fancy once upon a time, but that was clearly a long time ago. The carpets are bald, the wall panels are cracked, and there’s a thick layer of dust on the metal fixtures. The curtains are drawn and the lights turned down low in what I can only presume is an effort to hide how run-down the place is.

We all sit down; in spite of the size of the place, ours is the only occupied table. Presently, a waiter shows up. Now, the guy at the coat check had looked old, but this guy looks downright unwell: skeletally thin, sunken eyes, sparse wispy hair, the works. His voice is really deep, though - startlingly so, given his appearance. He goes around the table taking our orders in businesslike fashion, then walks off without another word.

(At this point I’m thinking: “Okay, is this a hidden camera prank?”)

When the food shows up, it’s predictably terrible: tough meat, limp vegetables, sour wine, the works. As we finish eating, a guy I’m assuming is the manager appears right on cue. He’s red-faced and portly, though just as ancient as the other two guys; he makes all the usual small talk - enquiring after the quality of the meal and such - with a totally expressionless face.

The boss pays the manager (?), and he vanishes into the kitchen and doesn’t return. On our way out, the coat check guy is also missing - in fact, the place seems to be entirely deserted - so we have to sneak behind the counter and retrieve our own coats.

I wish I could say that I turned around halfway across the parking lot and the building had vanished into thin air, but this isn’t that kind of story. As far as I can tell, it was just a really bad restaurant run by a trio of creepy old dudes, and the whole Alfred Hitchcock Presents vibe was pure happenstance.

How about you?

First Real Sugar Daddy!!!

Omg hold the mother fucking phone!!! I swear to God I just got soo lucky right now I just sealed the deal with my first ever sugar daddy for 6K a month. YES I WILL SAY IT A-FUCKING-GAIN 6,000 MOTHER FLIPPING DOLARES IN MY HAND BABY. I have been cracking at this bowl for two years with little luck, alternating between escorting, and attempts to sugar and I was finally blessed. 🙌🙌🙌 I RECEIVE IT LORDT HALLELU 🙌🙌🙌 Now I know this may not seem like much to yall but I have slept or escorted with the some of the worst I would ever have the displeasure of encountering but this… babe this is a game changer. Thank you Lordt for the blessing. Sugar on dolls. 💪👠💵💰🎀💎

Title: Forever

Pairing: AoKaga

Summary: The difference between “like”, “love”, and “in love” is the same as the difference between “for now”, “for a while” and “forever”;

Alternately titled: Aomine has feelings and cant cope. 

A/N: Thank u Jordan for being a saint and betaing the shit outa this. Also this is the first time I’ve written anything since like 2005 be gentle pls. I got the idea off a shitty tumblr quote twitter and I’m ashamed about it.

The biggest mistake Aomine Daiki ever made in his life, he decides, was that he cared too much.  He cared about basketball too much. He cared about his friends too much, even if he only ever showed it in weird backhanded ways. He just really honestly cared, and it came right back around and bit him in the ass.

Keep reading

Hey Taylor! I don’t think I’ve introduced myself since you’ve followed me but now that that’s happened (😱😱😱) I may have a chance of you knowing my name etc and that would be like, again, 😱😱😱. So anyway I’m Beth and I wanted to tell you how much you mean to me and how much I love you. Well it all started when I was about to go into first year at high school and my brother told me to listen to you because you were amazing! I think the first song I heard was love story and I was instantly hooked. When I started high school I was so worried about what people thought of me and I so badly wanted to be one of the “popular” girls because they were like queens ( in my head of course). However I wasn’t like those girls. I wasn’t funny or pretty or anything like that and I started to get very self conscious and eventually I became the shy girl who never spoke. And it stayed like that for 3 years. In 3rd year I moved school and I was still extremely shy so as you could imagine moving was my worst nightmare but you helped me through it. Your songs and those magical lyrics helped me forget about my insecurities. After shake it off came out I swear to god my life changed. I started to realise I was my own unique self and I can be happy without other people’s approval and honestly I’m not as shy as I was before. In fact I’m actually a wee bit confident (well I can have a conversation with someone for longer than 5 seconds that counts right?😂). You mean so so much to me taylor and I love you for changing my life for the better. I joined tumblr about a year ago and honestly my love for you has grown so much more and my love for our fandom has grown. I never knew there was so many people out there who were like me and who I could relate to so much. You’re my hero and I love you so much Taylor. So much. So in my optimistic state I’m going to post this in hope that you see me in the middle of all the other fantastic swifties.

Ps. YOURE COMING TO GLASGOW. WHEN I SEEN THAT I LEGIT LOST MY CHILL. Soooo tay I’ll see you in Glasgow on Tuesday the 23rd of June. (Floor seating block 002…. I’ll be the girl passed out from a cardiac arrest… It’s Kay though it’ll be worth it😂😬)

Pps. Soz this is so long and probably makes no sense. I’m not very good with words.

Cuddles and I Miss You's

A/N: I need to get better at writing endings bc this one sucked hella bad. I’m terrible I’m sorry.

Summary: the title is basically the summary lol

“Y/N,” Luke barged in my room putting his head on my shoulder. “Yes Luke?” “I want to cuddle,” he pouted. “Luke I want to cuddle too but I need to finish my homework,” I sighed. “Homework can wait, it’s Lukey and Y/N time,” he said while wrapping his arms around me the chair I was sitting on. I turned around to see him pouting, and chuckled. “Did you really call yourself ‘Lukey’?” “Yes,” he leaned down to kiss me, “now please cuddle me?” “I don’t know Luke, give me an hour?” He groaned, “Fine then, I’ll go downstairs and cuddle one of the boys instead.” I giggled at his childishness.

Five minutes later I heard Ashton yelling, “Y/N WHY IS YOUR BOYFRIEND CLUTCHING ON TO ME?” I rolled my eyes at Luke’s reaction. Another five minutes later I heard Michael screaming, “Y/N HURRY UP WITH WHATEVER YOURE DOING LUKE WONT LEAVE US ALONE. LUKE GET OFF OF ME.” I rolled my eyes and continued to work.

Minutes passed by, Luke came up to my room once again, “Are you done yet? Because I’m pretty sure the boys are pissed at me for clinging at them too much.” “Well lucky for you Mr. Hemmings,” I spun around turning to him, “I am.” “YES,” he then picked me up and put me over his shoulder, “cuddle time now.” He threw me on the bed and jumped in then cuddling me into his arms. He sighed into my neck, “Babe, what’s wrong?” I asked. “Nothing, I’m just going to miss this so much when I go back to touring.” “Hey don’t think about that yet, you still have two days with me okay?” I turned around staring at his bright blue eyes. “Well technically one and a half since I’m going spend half of the last day packing.” I gave him an ‘are-you-kidding-me-right-now’ look. “Luke you’ve got to be kidding me, whenever you ‘pack’ I always end up packing for you because you and the boys get distracted and then you end up making out with me to ‘thank me’ for it,” I deadpanned. He tickled my sides and pulled me in closer, kissing my lips, “I know I know you’re the best,” he said murmuring whilst kissing me. “I just can’t believe I’m leaving you so quick.” I held on to Luke tighter, “Hey I don’t want you to leave either, do you think it’s fun being harassed by school girls asking me what it’s like dating ‘the Luke Hemmings’ and not having a cuddle buddy and having not having someone to kiss or make out with for several months?” He chuckled, “Hey you don’t think I miss having a cuddle buddy and a make out buddy by my side for months too? I have to live with three other hormonal dudes on the same bus for months.” I giggled, “But at least you get a minute cuddles from your fans and you have Ash, Mike, and Cal to cuddle once in a while, I just get random butt touches from dudes at the mall or in the middle of the hallway at school okay.” His eyes went wide open, “NO! NO! No one is allowed to touch your butt but me, my butt. Y/N your butt is my butt only. No one can touch your butt but me,” he pouted while grasping my butt very tightly. I swear to god this boy is like 5 year old trapped in an 18 year old’s body. I rolled my eyes and hit his chest lightly, “Luke knock it off.” “Sorry baby,” he then kissed me again and then smirked, “so what is it like dating ‘the Luke Hemmings’” he wiggled his brows at me. “Hmmm let me think,” I hesitated for a while trying to intimidate the tall lovable dork in front of me, “eh its alright, he’s such a big dork, worst cuddler ever,” I told him. “Heeeey, hurtful.” “I’m just kidding baby, I love you.” “I love you too, but you were joking about the cuddling thing were you?” “Yes babe, you give the best cuddles ever.” “Gooood,” he said pulling me as close as he can to my chest. “Babe,” I struggled to say, “can’t breathe.” “Sorry,” he let go and kissed my nose, “you’re so cute.” “Ditto,” I told him. “I’m tired,” I yawned. “You wanna sleep?” I nod my head, tangling my legs and his legs together, he then kissed my forehead closing our eyes and drifting right into sleep.

I Remember This One Time In The Not Too Distant Future

Got a letter the other day. It was addressed to me. In my own handwriting.

It was a little disconcerting.

At first I didn’t actually recognize my own serial killer scrawl across the front - I don’t get a lot of letters that aren’t coupons, and I certainly don’t get very many that have handwritten addresses. I get so few letters with handwritten addresses, in fact, that I can usually peg who the letter is from (and what it’ll be) by whose handwriting is on the front: my mom, some chocolates and a note telling me she loves me; my friend Tony, usually a crudely drawn middle finger with the words “Guster still sucks” scrawled underneath. But when I recognized my own handwriting, I got a little worried. The end of the year always puts me in a funk, and this year was worst than most. My first thought was a worrisome mantra I’ve unfortunately adopted these past few months: “What now?”

My second thought - I swear to god - was that this was some sort of Tyler Durden situation and my six-packed knuckle cracked alter ego had sent my nerdy waking self a Fight Club invitation to punch me in the brains. Seemed like the perfect kind of half-original, self-referential prank I would pull on myself (the literal thought ”man, I can’t even prank myself in an inspired way” actually flashed through my mind). Then I realized that I was acting insane - strike that, more insane than usual - and I decided to stop wondering what the letter was and just open it.

One of my absolute favorite shows growing up was a show called “Quantum Leap”.

The premise of Quantum Leap was simple: A man from the future creates an experimental machine that lets him travel through time, but there’s a catch: The machine only works by allowing the man, Sam Beckett, to leap into the bodies of different people in the past. By becoming these people during a critical turning point in their lives, he corrects mistakes in history and tries to improve the lives of those he leaps into and those meets - or, as the show put it, his mission was “to set right what once went wrong”. He does this with the help of his friend Al and a supercomputer, Ziggy (which in today’s terms would basically be a guy on his phone looking at Wikipedia).

Quantum Leap was a big force in my young adult life - to the point that I remember the exact moment that I learned it had been cancelled: I was in an airport somewhere in Mexico sitting in an open air waiting room watching a sunburned man ride a bicycle up and down this single unpaved landing strip waving an umbrella while waiting for a small plane to take my family & I to some remote place in the mountains. The day was blistering hot; it must have been in the upper 90s. I went inside the one enclosed room they had to soak up some AC and maybe see if the snack guy had any more Cokes for sale, and there was a guard reading a newspaper with, I shit you not, a photo of Quantum Leap star Scott Bakula and the Quantum Leap logo and then a bunch of words in Spanish. It took the guard ten minutes of broken english and gesturing to explain that the show was ending. How would Sam Beckett ever get home? I asked. The man just shrugged with his palms out and said “No sé?”. I was 15.

It turned out he never did: Sam Beckett never returned home. Which means, I guess, he’s still out there - bouncing around from person to person, leaping into strangers and fixing their lives and leaping out. What always got me about Quantum Leap is this thought that these massive life changes all end up hinging on these small, seemingly inconsequential events. Things that, in the moment, mean nothing - but in hindsight, mean everything. I always wondered: Do the strangers know that Sam’s been there, in their bodies? That he’s “righted a wrong” for them?

As I walked up the stairs to my apartment, trying to shake off the December cold and the last few lingering ghosts of 2015, I tore open the mysterious letter and took out the what was inside: A holiday card. Written to myself.

Inside it read:

Nice work this year, dude. You did good. Keep it up.

- Yourself

(ps - Nice shoes)

As I stood there on the stairs, dumbfounded, a smile spread across my face. I thought about all the little moments in the past year that I didn’t think were worth anything, but ended up meaning everything. Like this. Why did I write this?

I thought about Sam Beckett: Had he leapt into me and written this letter? Was this a small wrong made right? I mean, it made me laugh. Lifted my spirits when I needed it most. Turned a shit day into something suddenly shiny and bright. This dumb joke of a card to myself was a small thing - but then again, it made me write this post, didn’t it? Something you’re reading. And who knows how reading this will affect you. Who knows what you’ll go out and do; whose life you’ll touch. Small pebbles make big ripples. From tiny acorns do mighty oaks grow. A watched pot never boils (okay, I went one proverb too far). But you understand my point.

So, here’s a small request, from the Me who authored the card: As the last few glowing embers of 2015 die out and fade to black, take a minute to think about a few of the things you did right this past year. Congratulate yourself. Whatever it was, big or small, you did good. You did good. And whatever 2016 holds for each one of us, whether good or bad, happy or sad, do me a favor: Be nice to yourself. Try to make an effort to appreciate the small moments that happen. Because, in the end, it’s not the big promotions or the game winning home runs or the brand new cars that matter. It’s the time you made her laugh so hard she snorted; it’s the time you surprised him with a kiss in the back of a cab on the way home from the airport; it’s late night dance parties on random Tuesdays and porch drinking and binge watching and fly fishing and cookouts and card games and foosball and high fives and the warmth of the Summer sun on your face and the cold wind of Fall in your hair and smelling clean laundry and eating that perfect piece of toast. It’s being nice to the people we love and being with the people who love us. It’s the lives we touch with a small kindness and the wrongs we set right with a long hug. Small moments are what we look back on years later and smile. And that’s what Life is all about.

Thank you for being a part of my life, and reading these things I write. Always always always.

Happy New Year. See you on the other side.

I really loved this episode. 

  • It didn’t feel contrived or forced. It all seemed to come together pretty well. 
  • Dean let himself be vulnerable with Sam like… a few times?? And that NEVER HAPPENS SO OMG?????
  • Sam wasn’t the focus but he WAS important and he did things and contributed to the plot and the action of the show consistently. 
  • Cain also said “It’s called the Mark of Cain for a reason” and I laughed because I swear to GOD we’ve all been saying that for 7 years probably.
  • Cain’s hair and beard tbqh
  • Rowena 
  • I actually felt… anxiety and … like… REAL??? EMOTIONS????
  • Dean fell directly into Sam’s arms after fighting Cain like he was a sad little baby and he needed to be held , call me a sucker but … UGH. He found out his worst nightmare and sought out comfort with his brother and was too destroyed to pretend he didn’t need Sam to pick him up and hold him in his arms I JUST????
  •  Sam SAM SMASd fkajsd ;lfja
  • Sam caring about the 12yo
  • Sam worrying about Dean
  • Sam putting on a strong face to encourage Dean even though he was devastated inside
  • Sam being intuitive about his brother to the degree of knowing how deeply Dean is jacked up even though he’s pretending he’s not just…

I know there has to be other things about it I liked and I forgot but wow. I liked it. Like quakerhobbit said, I wish THAT had been the midseason finale


I swear I’m the worst Tumblr user like I don’t have an faq and haven’t changed my theme in years and the only reason my background is of my dog in a novelty hat is because I was in a rush to pick a background picture like 3 years ago and was like ok this will do and then just haven’t been bothered to change it and like I don’t have any intention of doing any of that stuff haha god @myself what gives