my eyes look dumb


Guess what, ASLR found Garp’s suitcase full of Hawaiian shirts :D
Inspired by chapter 47 of Tell it to the Marines, when Sabo wore a Hawaiian shirt! I loved that!

Things My Friend Said Playing Video Games

“What are you doing? Get the fuck up! It’s not nap time!”
“Someone is shooting at me.”
“Whelp, my girlfriend killed you.”
“Congratulations, you fucked up.”
“Oh my god, there are so many things.”
“Did I not just do that?”
“What is happening?”
“Sure, take me. Let’s go.”
“My girlfriend is doing all the work!”
“You’re almost as confused as I am.”
“I just like ran right into this raider camp. It’s fine.”
“Random rocks and shit, just hanging out.”
“Great. I got a rock.”
“Let me just throw my ass just down this hole.”
“I love that I’m getting on shit that works on my equipment from the Milky Way, out of these ancient tomb things that the people in this galaxy don’t even know about.”
“Do you have to jump over that? You could walk just two inches!”
“Guys, bridges are supposed to BRIDGE THINGS.”
“I think your bridge is broken.”
“I kinda really want to jump down there. I know I’ll die. But I want to.”
“The music is going spastic, there’s shit flying in my face, there’s giant turnips in the sky… what the fuck is happening?”
“I don’t even know what’s going on.”
“Hold still! I want to shoot you!”
“Let me live my life.”
“My eyes are on fire.”
“This water looks like pudding!”
“They look like dumb little octopi.”
“Now it’s time to die.”
“I’m gonna punch your ass even though you fly, c'mere!”
“Let’s go, guys! So I don’t die – where the fuck are all of you!?”
“Well, it’s DEAD NOW.”
“What? What, what, what? I don’t see anything! What do you want? WHAT?!”
“I wanna get my MAD LOOT first.”
“These robots have the juiciest thighs.”
“I don’t know what the fuck you want from me, but if you think I believe this shit for one minute–”
“Fucking – just die, I’m done with your plot!”
“Knife to the eyeball!”
“Are you dead now? What happened?”
“That’s fucking, like, beautifully stupid.”
“You have a little dialogue tree I can shimmy my butt up?”
“Oh, get out you dirty whore.”

why do NPCs always think they have a chance in fighting Geralt. and they’re always so cocky… he’s a Witcher. think for a minute and maybe don’t provoke the dude?! but if you wanna die sure be my guest

but apostate hobo mage ROBES

@staff someone better tell me how my headshot of a historical figure was tagged as nsfw. did you think his cravat was a vagina? was the tricorn just a little too dirty for the children? oh, john trumbull, you naughty man!

anonymous asked:

I could totally see Ignis' and his S/O's child going back in time so Ignis actually has a chance to see them before he gets injured. And angst and fluff and all that goodness.

It has been requested! 

Alright, hold on to your seats, kiddos. This one may arguably hurt more than the last. I have a request to do Gladio as well. If there’s any Prompto lovers out there, speak up now or forever hold your peace!

You can read Noctis HERE


{2,237 words}



When you meet him it’s of less than ideal circumstances, but you suppose that was the point.

It’s during the heat of a nasty battle, an impromptu ambush, but deadly all the same. Three MT units had swooped down from above in the dead of night above your campsite. Gladio had been the first to notice, bellowing a rousing warning to the rest of you, but it still didn’t ensure you all were on you’re A game’s. It was a ‘relax and recovery’ kind of night— one that was spent mending wounds from the fort you had infiltrated the day before.

None of you had been ready for the backlash.

MT assassins are swinging left and right with their mechanical arms and harsh robotic swipes. Dozens of blades cut through the air, creating an echo of turbulence all around you that’s so inorganic, you feel as though you’re in a hazy dream. One glance around you shows that everyone is struggling to hold their own, for each MT that’s cut down, there’s another to replace it.

Keep reading


(x) When a couple of campers decides to set camp in the area, Derek finds himself having to drag Stiles away before he does something rash and stupid and dangerous, like getting noticed by the humans busy littering the lake’s opposite bank. It’s not that he’s fond of Stiles, really. It’s a little hard to be fond of the person responsible for slashing his small and only fishing net, snapping two of his fishing rods all in the space of one night, and generally handing out his live bait like it’s pet treats.

It’s just that Stiles has proven to be almost okay-ish company when he’s not destroying Derek’s equipment. That’s all.

“Let go of me, assface. And you better not be coping a feel!”

“Don’t flatter yourself and. stop. squirming.”