they are about to come on stage

i know i was critical months ago about liam being a father so young while trying to launch a solo career, but like so many other artists have kids and successful careers, why can’t he? idk i just believe so much in liam’s passion that i know he can do it all. and now i’m so stoked for the months/years to come cause im just imagining all the instas of lil payno hanging with liam in the studio (!!) or watching liam perform at a concert (!!!) or crawling around the stage at soundchecks (!!!!) or being cute with paddy (!!!!!) idk im just like so excited for liam’s future as an artist and a dad

2

Ken-chan and Shouhei

Kentarou
Hashimoto Shouhei
who plays Nishinoya Yuu
Karasuno High School 2nd year
Player Number 4
Libero

He’s so kind.
He works as hard as 100 people by himself
But he never boasts about how hard he works.
He pulls through everything with that cute face like it’s no big deal.
Very manly.

And..!!
He’s my Pokemon teammate <- This is super important!

Good night
See you tomorrow

Translated by @nimbus-cloud

It seems Ken-chan will be doing a series of tweets with player features?  Two so far!

Lone digger by Caravan Palace fits Sabriel so much.. *WARNING* *WARNING* THIS HC HAS CONTENT SOME PEOPLE MAY NOT LIKE. BUT OKAY HERE I GO. 

Imagine this, Sam walking into a strip club. All the lights are dimmed and the only light is coming from candles and the lights lining the stage. Sam took a seat at a empty table and looked down at his phone to check the time. 1 am. Dean was probably doing something he rather not think about, so he directed his gaze to the stage. Where he saw, a rather handsome man Dancing. The man’s golden hair caught the light as he spun around the pole. The movements catching Sam’s attention, he got out of his chair and wandered to the stage. Leaning against it in content, looking up, eyes full of wonder. Fumbling in his pocket, he pulled out a ten dollar bill and held it up, The man smirked and took it, their hands brushing together ever so slightly, causing a shiver to run up Sam’s spine. Oh boy, was Sam gonna stay here all night.

if you’re looking for something to see instead of dr str*nge the weekend it comes out, think about supporting moonlight, the story of a boy growing up black and gay in the miami projects and his experiences at three stages in his life (boyhood, his teenagerdom, and his adult years). it has a ninety-eight percent review on rotten tomatoes. 

give this movie the attention it deserves. let this story be told and reach the wide audience it should.

Theatre Gothic

When people ask about your show, you tell them to come. You don’t know why you do this. That is the last thing you want.

The curtain ripples, but when you look, there is no one there.

They collect everyone’s cell phones before showtime. To avoid mic interference, they said. The show goes on and there is still mic feedback. You suspect your phone has been taken so you can’t call for help.

You’re asked to get something from the dusty basement prop shop. No fucking way, you say. No goddamn way in hell.

No matter how many makeups wipes you use, it won’t come off. It won’t come off. Your reflection is not your own.

They call five minutes until showtime. Everyone yells thank you five and then rushes for the bathroom. Why do we all wait until five to use the bathroom. Why do we do this to ourselves.

The pre-show rituals are arcane. They are cryptic and unholy. No one seems to notice.

There is sawdust in the scene shop. That makes sense. There is also sawdust on the mezzanine. That does not make sense.

One day, the turntable starts turning the other way. The cast performs the entire show backwards.

An actor speaks. A techie cries. These events always happen in succession but no one has made the connection yet.

The stage manager brings in a whole cardboard tray of Starbucks cups, but they do not share. All the coffee is for them.

“Cue one, go.” Nothing happens.

We are late for curtain time. We are always late for curtain time. The audience is disgruntled but powerless.

4

Queen Latifah confirms that a ‘Living Single’ reboot is in the works

  • Khadijah, Maxine, Regina and Synclaire are coming back to a TV near you.
  • Queen Latifah confirmed on Thursday night’s episode of Watch What Happens Live that she’s in the early stages of working with all of the original cast members to reboot the show.
  • The sitcom, which debuted in 1993 and had a stellar five-year run, was a pioneering show about four black women in their 20s living and loving in New York City. 
  • It was so pioneering, in fact, that it actually served as the template for Friends. Read more

follow @the-movemnt

listen don’t get me wrong i love epic fantasy and sci-fi but it is very very important to me that we get fantasy & sci-fi on a smaller scale as well. i’m tired of reading about the Special Person Who Will Save The World. that’s not relateable. i want to hear more stories about bit players on the world stage! a traveling theatre troupe of goblins struggling to write a new play, two rival families of smugglers living on the same space station transport hub, a rom-com about a young hedge witch, a coming-of-age story about a dryad

give me more weird clever small stories

3

— favourite One and Only lyrics (ft. Sehun)

straight ppl things:

  • outright, obvious discomfort
  • assuming your s/o is your best friend. just love holding hands and kissing them. “you two are such good friends! i want a friend like that” 
  • assuming coming out is a one time thing where you invite everyone you have ever came into contact w/ + will ever come into contact w/ to a party and get on a stage and announce “hey! i’m gay” and everyone claps and that’s that
  • weird invasive questions about your personal experiences
  • “maybe someday you’ll realize that this was just a phase and you’re just kidding yourself! we all go through phases”
  • “haha so did you ever have a crush on me/don’t get a crush on me or anything… jk”
  • “i love you even though i don’t support your actions and you’re inevitably going to hell (:”
  • “you’re so brave for-”
  • “so how does your family feel about-”
  • treating you talking about the shit they do (even if you say it lightheartedly/in passing) as if you went directly into their home and broke all of their dishes, individually, one plate at a time, as they stood there and had to watch

has anyone else had that moment at a 1d concert where you don’t scream, you barely move, and you just… watch harry. and you’re just in utter awe. because he’s there. and he’s real. and he’s 10x more attractive up close and in real life. and you’re just overcome with all these emotions…………. because he comes on the stage and all you can think is ‘holy shit that’s him’

Take a moment and imagine the first few years of Stanford’s life. What if, towards the beginning, his extra fingers didn’t even phase him. What if, at first, tiny toddler Ford considered them the same as people having different colored hair. Some people have five fingers like Stanley, and some- like him- have six.

Then… imagine his Ma, lovingly holding his hands and telling him how unique and special he was. Imagine all the times Ford would catch the other kids at the park or the beach staring at him. Just think about the confusion that must have brought into this toddler’s life as he grew. His fingers were normal, weren’t they?

Imagine the utter devastation he felt the first time another child loudly asked him, “Hey, what’s wrong with your hands?”

Imagine Ford returning home in tears, having finally come to the realization that he WASN’T like everyone else, and having six fingers WASN’T normal, and rest of the world just thought he was freakish.

Imagine the day this smol bean’s entire understanding of his world changed.

CONGRATULATIONS ON 13 MILLION JACKSEPTICEYE :D!

I’ve been practicing drawing human anatomy by drawing Jack’s FaceCam in all of his new videos, as I found it to be the perfect opportunity to show steady progression. This illustration was drawn in his most recent layers of fear episode and I decided to add colour to it in photoshop.

Its come to the stage where I now have about twenty sketches of him that I’m hoping to use in my portfolio to get into a illustration degree, so thank you for being such a good model Jack, you Irish star you ^-^ 

And here’s to the next million!

Another Man’s Treasure

A/N: This will be a multi-part one shot because @alrightpetal and I have this thing about making Harry super vulnerable and flawed. So here you go.


…I’m gonna show you tonight! I’m alright! I’m just fine! And you’re a tool so, so what?

You belted your heart out up on stage, pumping your fist in the air to empower your words even further. It was a good thing you knew all the words, too, because your mates had bought you so many drinks your vision was crossed and blurred you couldn’t have read the lyrics to an unfamiliar song. Then you would have just been a blubbering fool butchering a karaoke performance. And that would have been embarrassing.

Singing yourself blue in the face—and drinking yourself into oblivion—served as the perfect outlet for your aching heart. Hours earlier, you’d been dumped. Or more accurately, replaced.

It’d been a week since you’d heard from your long-term boyfriend, and while you knew he was on holiday with his mates—a holiday you hadn’t been invited on—it was still odd that you hadn’t heard from him at all. Not even a text to let you know that he’d made it to Amsterdam. You didn’t expect too much communication; you trusted him to treat you right, but, silly you, you thought your boyfriend might actually miss you and want to say hi.

Last night after seven and a half days of nothing, you completely lost it and called him forty-seven times in a row. And not a single one was answered. So you rang your closest friends and they came over, laptops and tablets in hand, and intense cyber-stalking commenced.

It only took thirty-four minutes for your good mate Lindsey to unearth a damning post on Insta that your boyfriend was tagged in by a girl you kind of knew. The picture itself wasn’t awful; honestly you couldn’t make out much besides silhouettes and drinks. Even the caption wasn’t much; all it said was, “this guy” with a random slew of emojis. But the funny thing was, when you tried to search for it yourself, nothing came up. Meaning you were blocked. You weren’t meant to see this picture.

Twenty-two minutes of super-sleuthing was enough time for your oldest friend Ashley to find every social media account the girl had, and then eventually uncover her phone number.

In thirteen minutes you had a text drafted to her that was so long it was broken into five different parts when you hit send.

And one minute and fifty-four seconds is all the time your boyfriend—well ex-boyfriend—allowed you to speak to him today before he told you he was coming back tomorrow and there’d be no need for you to come see him. Tomorrow or ever again.

So your mates did what they knew best. They took you out, got you absolutely smashed, and then got you up on stage to pour your heart out. Somewhere in between I Will Survive and Total Eclipse of the Heart, you got a bit weepy and ended up calling your brother from the toilet. It took you awhile to realize you weren’t actually sobbing to him but his voicemail, and as soon as you did you pulled yourself back together and headed out for another drink and a rousing rendition of Since U Been Gone.

The few other patrons in the pub were hardly paying attention to your drunken warbling on stage, only breaking from their conversations when your mates would cheer at the end of each song, some of them even offering half-hearted claps. If they were annoyed, they certainly didn’t let on. Most likely, they pitied you; for Christ sake, you pitied you.

When your song ended, you finished the rest of your drink and began flipping through the songbook. Liberation was surging through you and you wanted a song to match your mood; something to serve as a proper fuck you to the twat you’d wasted the last few years of your young life on.

The book closed on your fingers, and you stumbled back in surprise. Were books automated now too?! You still weren’t over the automated tills at Tesco, would you now have to get used to robotic books closing on you when they’d had enough?!

“[Y/N].”

You looked up, your blurred vision slowly coming into focus as you swayed on the spot. A robotic book didn’t close itself on you, a person had closed it. Which was rather rude of them.

[Y/N],” he repeated. Finally he came into view and you cocked your head in confusion.

“Hazza?” you slurred, taking a step closer to get a better look. You nearly toppled off the stage, but Harry was quick to grab you by the waist and steady you before easing you down.

Keep reading

10

“My mom often talks about how she used to only take care of me because I was a trainee ever since I was young and didn’t know for sure whether I would debut or not, but now she is glad because she can focus and take care of my younger siblings. That’s why I like standing on stage. Because I made so many dreams come true.

#HappyJihyoDay ♡ You have gone through so much at a young age but know that we are all grateful for your efforts as a leader and as an idol. We love you just as much as you love us. Thank you for being born.

8

When I got the role [of Finn], I made myself a promise that I was going to live out every single moment  — that even when we’re at the stage where Star Wars 12 is coming out, I wouldn’t regret joining this experience. I don’t know what happens next. I’m still clueless about it all but it’s really going to be fun, I know that for a fact.

Happy 25th Birthday John Boyega! (March 17, 2017)

I also said it back when the Bernie movement was just beginning. I think it was before I even knew Hillary was going to run. But Leftists should have been at Bernie rallies distributing pamphlets and beginner radical material. Hopefully I don’t get confused for a Trot, but Bernie voters are the perfect demographic to slowly transition into more radical avenues. But nah, instead, we sat on Tumblr calling them silly liberals and made jokes about how they’re clinging onto the tiniest shred of hope that Bernie will get elected somehow. Like yea, they’re funny jokes, but that entire time none of us really thought to capitalize on this massive vaguely anti-capitalist, anti-”authority”, movement of largely disenfranchised millenials. 

The left’s failure to *do* anything besides joke and meme and philosophize is why the movement is going nowhere and why a global fascist movement is coming center stage. We can pound our chests about how we need to stomp the fash but we’ll never do anything to prevent people from becoming fascist in the first place. We’ll laugh and make jokes about white rural sister-fucking Appalachians, meanwhile they’re mobilizing at polling stations for a misogynist reality TV show star who actually spends the teensiest-amount of time talking about how he’s going to help huge swaths of the rust belt/American south to one again put food on their plates.

The Left allowed the rural working class to effectively starve and now we’re all scratching our heads as to why a fascist reality show TV star is going to be our next President. We set ourselves up for failure.