thick tires

I’m tired of staying up late, just to finish a pointless paper.

I’m tired of waking up before the sun , just to end up falling asleep during class.

I’m tired of wasting my money on a big cup of coffee to make it through the day.

I’m tired of watching best friends talk shit behind each others back and then act like nothing ever happened.

I’m tired of watching people constantly torment each other just for the fun of it.

I’m tired of pretending something is funny, so no one will see I’m hurt.

I’m tired of having the responsibilities of an adult, yet still constantly being treated like a child.

I’m tired of being told the only thing that can fill the void inside of me, is excessive drinking and meaningless hookups.

I’m tired of being given expectations that are impossible to reach.

I’m tired of the continuously changing body standard girls are expected to achieve.

I’m tired of the words skinny, and thick.

I’m tired of girls expecting their boyfriends to buy them the world, and I’m tired of guys expecting girls to be perfect for them.

I’m tired of the word love being thrown around like it’s nothing.

I’m tired of forever, lasting for a day.

I’m tired of the poison in that oddly shaped bottle, telling me it’s going to be okay.

I’m tired of drugs telling me to forget.

I’m tired of my age telling me how to act.

I’m tired of this generation trying to define me.

I’m tired of our society telling me that all of this is okay.

And i’m just tired… of feeling so damn tired all the time.

—  I just need some sleep / SM

Hi my name is Vulpes Inculta and I have cropped ebony black hair and icy blue eyes like limpid tears and a lot of people tell me I look like Adam Sandler (AN: if u don’t know who he is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to Gaius Marius but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking hottie. I’m a legionary but my teeth are straight and white. I have pale white skin. I’m also head of the frumentarii, and I’m stationed at Fortification Hill, where I am to spread the word of Caesar (I’m twenty). Today I was wearing a crimson tunica with matching armor and a black leather miniskirt, my coyote cowl and black combat boots. I was walking outside Nipton. There was thick smoke from the tire fires so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. A lot of profligates stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them.

Welcome Home

Originally posted by yoon-to-the-oh

Description: Tired cuddles with Taeyong

Warning: None

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The red numbers on the clock flashed, indicating it was nearly 11:30 pm. The sheets and thick blankets comforted your tired body, but even the soft fabric did nothing to sooth your racing, worried mind. Taeyong still wasn’t home.
Where is he? was the only thought that was running through your head over and over and over again. Taeyong had texted you earlier, sending you a simple message that was all he could manage to send you during a water break at dance practice.
“Staying late. Can’t seem to get this move down. Don’t stay up too late, jagi. Love you.”
But that was over four hours ago. A small sigh fell from your lips as you tossed and turned in bed, moving to stare at the brightly shining moon that was offering a sliver of light to illuminate the dark room. The bedroom was full of oddball things. Knick knacks. Stuffed animals. Your clothes strung around. His clothes strung around. A random flag in a corner. It was comfortable. Quite homey, actually. But all the stuffed animals in the world couldn’t make up for the one thing you were missing at this very moment. Him.
Preparing to call it a night and just cuddle with a pillow, you held your breath when you heard the unmistakable sound of the front door unlocking and being nudged open. You immediately sat up, waiting to greet him as you listened to his soft footsteps. Finally the bedroom door creaked open, as quietly as he could manage, in case you were already asleep.
“Welcome home.” You whispered, not wanting to spook him.
Even in the barely there moon light, you could see how tired he was. Thanks to the nearly seven hours of dance practice, he had been drenched in sweat. Hair disheveled, the white t-shirt he had left in earlier was clinging to his soft skin. His eyes lit up when he saw you still awake. Even when he was dead tired, barely able to keep his eyes open, you could always give him a spark of energy.
A smile stretched across his lips, he dropped his dance bag on the floor, not caring where it landed as he made his way further into the room.
I swear he makes the room so much more alive. You thought, watching him make his way sluggishly to the bathroom.
You sat silently, listening to the bathroom sink start running so Taeyong could wash the sweat from his face and brush his teeth for bed. Not too long later, he returned to your sight. After washing briefly, he had stripped off his sweaty, smelling clothes, leaving them on the bathroom floor, and walking out in just his boxers.
I’ll worry about that tomorrow, He thought, But for now, I just want my Jagi.
You threw the covers back, shivering from the cool night air now hitting your bare legs, waiting for Taeyong to crawl in the bed and lay with you.
That was probably your favorite thing about your relationship with Taeyong. Even when he was shy and quiet and self conscious about himself out in the world, he never cared when he was alone with you. With you, he could let himself be him, knowing he wouldn’t be judged. He could leave the makeup off, not worry about hiding his body. After the many times you had told him he was beautiful to you, he began to finally believe it as well. At least, while he was with you. And that’s all the mattered to him, that you loved him the way he was.
“Why did you stay awake so long, jagi? I expected you to be out like a light, drooling on your pillow by the time I got back.” Taeyong snickered when you slapped his shoulder as he laid his drained body beside you.
“I don’t drool!” You giggled when he grabbed your hand, preventing you from playfully hitting him, and pulled your body against his. “I just wanted to sleep beside my love, is that so bad?”
“Not at all.” Even when he was on the brink of falling asleep and pretty much was just mumbling,his soft voice never seized to send a chill down your spine. He pulled you tighter against him, nudging the side of your face gently with his nose, liking the way you shivered when he exhaled, letting you feel his warm breath against your neck.
“I love you, Tae.”
“I love you too.” He whispered, pressing the lightest kiss to your cheek, cuddling you, arms keeping you anchored to his side. Letting his eyes close, consciousness slowly slipped from his fingers.
Welcome home.”

I was actually hoping that you would ask me // SHAWN MENDES

Overview: Y/n asks Shawn to their school dance

Authors note: They’re both in high school for this :)

My heart was hammering in my chest and I felt as though it would leap out of my body at any given second. I can do this, its just Shawn, you’ve talked to him a thousand times before so you can do it again.

I look over to where he stands with some of his friends, laughing with them by his locker. He waves at them as they start to walk off, presumably to their next class, leaving him standing there alone. Here was my chance. 

Holding my books tighter to my chest I made my way over to him.

“Shawn!” I call, catching his attention.

He gaze flicks to me and he smiles immediately. “Y/n, hey! How are you?”

“Pretty good thanks, yourself?” I ask, my nerves still going crazy. He leans against the lockers, raising one hand to brush through his thick brown locks.

“Tired. I didn’t get much sleep last night- too busy studying for the math test today,” his calm demeanor helps to settle my racing heart.  

“I have it tomorrow, good luck for today though,” I say, trying to keep the conversation going.

“Thanks, you too,” Shawn tells me, grinning. Do it, ask him.

“Um so hey, do you think you might go to that dance for school next Saturday?” I ask, praying that my voice didn’t sound as nervous as I felt.

“The spring formal?” Shawn questions, biting his lip gently.

“Yeah that,” I say lamely.

“Yeah I am,” He confirms softly.

“Oh awesome!” I smile, one hurdle down. “Well- if you’re going, do you think, like you don’t have to because I know that you probably would have so many other options but I thought that it might be nice if you wanted to go with me and we could go together?” I ramble out, tugging the end of my shirt nervously.

“Oh Y/n,” Shawn mumbles, giving me a sympathetic glance.

“Its fine if you don’t want to go with me-” I start to say, my stomach dropping.

“No, no its not that,” Shawn cuts me off, noticing my fallen expression quickly.

“I would have loved to go with you but Gen asked me around 20 minutes ago, and well I didn’t really have a valid reason to tell her no so I said I would,” He looks away, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Oh,” I mumble out, tears of embarrassment welling in my eyes and I blink them back knowing that if I started crying it would make everything worse. “Its okay, it doesn’t really matter,” I try to laugh but it sounds shaky even to my own ears.

“Y/n I was actually hoping that you would ask me,” Shawn whispers, stepping closer to me. I meet his eyes, almost getting lost in the brown depths. 

“Hah, sure, thanks that makes me feel better,” My tone comes out more sarcastic then I intended too.

“I’m serious.” He says, holding my stare. “If you had been 20 minutes earlier, I would have said yes, I still want to say yes but I can’t go back on my word to Gen,” He searches my face, looking to see if I believe him.

My gaze softens. “I understand,” my voice comes out quietly.

“You need to still come though, I defiantly want you to save me a dance,” He grins, his hand tugging mine to pull me closer. “Or maybe 3,” he lifts my arm to spin me around and I comply, giggling. 

“You sure Gen wouldn’t get offended?” I ask, a smile etched onto my face.

“I’m sure that after a dance or two she would have forgotten all about me,” Shawn whispers, his thumb running over my knuckles. “You know Gen, always attracting the fellas.” We both chuckle.

“I guess I could make it,” I tease. “Would hate to leave you all alone on the dance floor,” his eyes crinkle as he laughs making butterflies swarm in my stomach.

This was us, Shawn and I, our friendship. It was so easy to talk to him and the conversation would always just flow. I didn’t have to pretend to be someone else with him.

“What color dress are you wearing?” he asks, his thumb unconsciously still rubbing my knuckles. 

“Depends. What color tie are you wearing?” I shoot back and he grins.

“I’m going all black baby,” 


“Then guess I’m wearing a black dress,” I answer and he nods. The shrieking sound of the bell reminds me of the next class I have to get to. 

“Remember you’re saving me 8 dances,” Shawn says, letting go of my hand and starting to walk away, still facing me.

“I thought you said 3?” I ask, giggling.

“3? I’m pretty certain I said 12?” Shawn grins, his pace barely taking him far away from where I stood.

“5,” I call as I start to walk away as well.

“20,” he calls, beginning to get farther away as we both parted ways.

“10,” I shout, turning around.

“To be discussed,” I hear him shout as I made it to room 23 where my period 3 class was. I open the door to my English class, a smile on my lips the whole time. He’d end up getting his 20 dances.

mrdaxxonford  asked:

Oh oh! Tire armor. I have always wondered about that. I know they wouldn't stop bullets, but perhaps a decent melee armor or flack jackets?. And the sidewall isn't that tough beyond just being rubber. But the tread I have seen in games used as...Pauldrons? (The shoulder pad armor). And in falling skies they mentioned haveing steelbelted tires as body armor. Is any of that a good idea for post apocalypse body armor?

There’s a lot of variability in the design of tires, in terms of basic size, thickness and the durability of whatever reinforces the rubber. I agree - the sidewall is probably pretty flimsy. Which is why, when you see pictures of people making armor from tires, it’s always the treads.

The curvature of the tire is especially well-suited for pauldrons:

As for how useful tire tread armor would actually be, I’m not sure. Historically, many cultures have equipped their soldiers with armor made from animal hide, skins, fur and leather; it affords some protection, and is better than nothing. And it seems to me that rubber would be just as good, at least some of the time. It seems to me that its flexibility and ability to absorb shock would make it good at deflecting blunt trauma, and I suspect it’s decent at mitigating cutting and chopping attacks. Bullets and pucturing/impaling attacks, I’m not so sure – we’ve all run over nails and gotten flat tires.

Two points of realism, to the degree that it’s important: 1) rubber becomes brittle and crumbly if it sits exposed to the elements too long (think of old rubber bands) and might not be ideal for salvage for too long after the Apocalypse; and 2) how easy it is to work with - to sew, rivet and so on?

Of course genre convention might make that moot - as with shields made from car doors, maybe if it looks good, it is good. In a cinematic/fantasy game, I’d be willing to say that body armor made from tires is equivalent to basic medieval armor, somewhere between leather and chain mail depending on thickness and reinforcement. Those big thick knobby tires (though bulky) would be even better.

More examples of tire tread armor in my Stop Sign Shield tag, including a face-mask/helmet from Rutger Hauer’s “Blood of Heroes”.

anonymous asked:

Omg Dave Strider is so cute. He has the best bed hair, and when he's waking up, his eyes before he finds his sunglasses, all sleepy, are the Best Thing. And just after he's showered and his hair is still slightly damp, and he smells really floral because he uses Rose's shower gel.


Imagine this: Karkat wakes up before Dave and is sitting in the living room or something. He looks up when Dave walks in and just. JAW ==> DROP

Dave shuffles in because he is still *TOO TIRED* so he’s just. Barely walking. And he’s got this WILD bedhead that goes right to Karkat’s gut because it’s fucking HOT AS SHIT OK DAVES BEDHEAD IS SO GOOD anyway *coughs*

Karkat is like. Dumbstruck. Dave is wearing a way oversized tshirt and boxers and that’s it? And its hella adorable?? His eyes are lidded he’s barely awake but what’s shown of his eyes behind crazy long eyelashes is this BRILLIANT BRIGHT RED its absolutely VIBRANT, they look sort of like bright red rubies and passion and fire and its CUTE AND HOT

And then he yawns and makes a teeny little noise with it like small and cute and kinda kitten like and Karkat just MELTS. AND THEN AND THEN AND THEN!!! He says “mornin” bUT HIS SOUTHERN ACCENT SLIPS OUT BIG TIME!! ITS THICK AND TIRED AND CUTE and Karkat just fucking DIES he LOVES DAVE SO MUCH



anonymous asked:

can you maybe do an ethan one with #3 and #47? thank youuuu!

When you’re consciously aware before you fall asleep that someone is going to wake you up much earlier than your normal routine, it’s relatively expected when someone purposely disturbs your sleep. But when it’s a normal night with absolutely nothing special to do the following morning, you’re a bit grumpy at the unexpected poking to your cheek. 

“Y/N! Y/N, wake up. Oh god, I’m terrible.” A familiar laugh. “No seriously, wake up. Please?”

You reluctantly pried one eye open to find a curious, wide gaze staring expectantly back at you. Ethan’s irises were lost in a sea of chocolate brown engulfed by dilated pupils in the darkness of the room. They were eyes attached to a boy you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at.

He was a boy you could only be mildly annoyed at.

With a defeated sigh, you craned your neck just enough to see the dancing red lights on your bedside alarm clock. “Ethan,” You dropped your cheek back against to pillow to gently chastise him, “It’s three in the morning!” 

He seemed all too amused by this. A finger darted between your figures to again poke your cheek, his smile entirely too endearing as he laughed, “Why are you whispering?” 

Because it’s three in the morning!”

“I can’t sleep,” He seemed so serious in that moment, you almost felt bad for being annoyed.


“Okay, and I get deprived because you do?”

Ethan’s pout erased as a shit eating grin crossed his features. His smile was easily as charming and endearing as it was in the day time with a clear mind free of fog and sleep. “What’s mine is yours, right baby?”

You groaned, throwing your head back against the pillows. You furiously rubbed at your eyes with the back of your knuckles as you muffled, “You’re the worst, you know that?”

The bed shifted as he clambered across the sheets to suspend himself above you. He hummed softly as he splayed kisses across your collarbones, trailed them up the length of your neck, nudging them to the corner of your jaw and underneath your ear. You shivered as his warmth breath fanned across your cheek, “I think you’re the best.”

You begrudgingly shifted your head to gaze up at him. “You better.”

Ethan suddenly seemed very tired, thick eyelashes drawing shadows over his already darkened eyes. Sluggishly, he lowered himself to lay beside you yet the better part of his body weight still fell heavy to your torso. With a sigh, you curved your arm around his neck to play at the soft tendrils splayed messily at the nape of his neck.

“Love you,” His voice was so soft you barely registered the muffled phrase. 

And then he was asleep. Half on top of you. Leg hooked across your waist. Heavy arm just across your chest. Soft hairs tickling at your jawline. Breath fanning over the dip in your collarbones.

You counted to ten three times before you finally allowed the frustrated breath to escape out your nose. “Yeah, you’re lucky I love you too.”

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