You’re seeing fall out boy on a concert. Everyone is having a great time. Fall out boy seem a little excited. “We have a surprise for you guys.” Partick says. All of a sudden P!ATD come out and start singing “this is gospel.” When Brendon gets to the chorus, someone else starts singing… “When I was a young boy my father took me into the city to see a marching band.” Lights flash everywhere, and you see FOB singing “this is gospel” along with P!ATD, while MCR is singing “Black parade”. Everyone in the crowd is going wild and crying. Then if things couldn’t get any better, Dan and Phil walk onto stage and kiss, holding the gay flag.
fob sounded SO G O O D tonight and they were all so smiley and excited…patrick was dancing around getting his signature White Boy Moves out full force. pete has a snazzy new haircut and when i yelled at him NICE HAIR PETE he yelled back THANKS and patted his own head. joe looked absolutely content being able to play that night like he was truly having a good time. andy did cute little waves at the crowd, which spent every quiet intermission yelling ANDY 愛してるよ！！！and the likes.
most of all they all looked healthy and generally in jolly good mood and i feel so thankful for them gahhhhh
Decided to do this short little giveaway on some band tees so someone else can wear them because I’d hate to just through them away :(
some are medium some are large
This is how you enter:
1. Must be following me
2. Reblog (as many times as you’d like)
3. Follow me on Instagram @Dang.thatscool
Giveaway will be ending on April 30th, 2017
Ok I could literally give less fucks who you choose to support and listen too, for gods sake it’s your fucking music taste do what you want, but why have tags literally dedicated to hating on other artists? Like I’m genuinely confused. Instead of just not liking them and ignoring them like everyone else does, you go and make a tag being “anti-5sos” or “anti-Harry styles” like you put so much more time and effort into hating on these artists you don’t like, so much more than you do the artists you actually do like in my opinion.
Like I said genuinely give zero fucks who you listen to music wise, just don’t understand why you have to have a tag dedicated to hating those you don’t
Today, I fucked up... by calling a locksmith when I was “locked out” of my car
I’ll preface this by saying I’m usually not a stupid man but I was at the end of my third 16 hour shift in a row and I was very tired. I’ll make this quick:
I got off work, went out to my car, hit the button for the doors on my remote unlocker - as usual. Nothing happened. I tried it a few more times, battery must be dead. I stand there for 10 minutes, mashing the little button, hoping for enough juice to open the doors. Nada.
I call a locksmith, explain that I’m locked out of my car. He says he’ll be right over. 20 minutes later he arrives. He walks up with his tools, inserts a thing that looks like a blood pressure cuff in the door jamb. He starts making conversation as it inflates, pushing the door open:
“So locked your keys in the car? No problem sir, I’ll have it open in a minute.”
“No, my keys are right here, my key fob is dead.” I replied.
He stops and for about 10 seconds. Doesn’t say a word. He sees my keys in my hands. Takes them from me, inserts them in the lock and opens the door.
I was mortified. I was so in a habit of opening the doors with my remote fob that I entirely forgot that keys could be used to unlock cars manually. He started laughing so hard I thought he was going to have an aneurysm. After he stopped laughing, he told me there was no charge. The story he’d have to tell was worth the drive out.
Today, I fucked up by calling a locksmith when I was "locked out" of my car.
I’ll preface this by
saying I’m usually not a stupid man but I was at the end of my third 16
hour shift in a row and I was very tired. I’ll make this quick:
I got off work, went out to my car, hit the
button for the doors on my remote unlocker – as usual. Nothing happened.
I tried it a few more times, battery must be dead. I stand there for 10
minutes, mashing the little button, hoping for enough juice to open the
I call a locksmith,
explain that I’m locked out of my car. He says he’ll be right over. 20
minutes later he arrives. He walks up with his tools, inserts a thing
that looks like a blood pressure cuff in the door jamb. He starts making
conversation as it inflates, pushing the door open:
‘So locked your keys in the car? No problem sir, I’ll have it open in a minute.’
‘No, my keys are right here, my key fob is dead,’ I replied.
He stops and for about
10 seconds doesn’t say a word. He sees my keys in my hands. Takes them
from me, inserts them in the lock and opens the door.
I was mortified. I was so in a habit of
opening the doors with my remote fob that I entirely forgot that keys
could be used to unlock cars manually. He started laughing so hard I
thought he was going to have an aneurysm. After he stopped laughing, he
told me there was no charge. The story he’d have to tell was worth the
Run Away With Me “It’s a road trip! It’s about adventure!… It’s not like we have somewhere to go.”
Tightrope x Walk The Moon // Take a Walk x Passion Pit // Summertime x My Chemical Romance // Cough Syrup x Young the Giant // Jackrabbit x San Fermin // I Wanna Get Better x Bleachers // Geronimo x Sheppard // Riptide x Vance Joy // Tear in my Heart x Twenty One Pilots // Ways to Go x Grouplove // Pumpin Blood x NONONO // Miss Atomic Bomb x The Killers // Favorite Record x Fall Out Boy // Mr Jones x Counting Crows // What I Got x Sublime // She Will be Loved x Maroon 5 // No Story Time x Smalllpools // Come a Little Closer x Cage The Elephant // Dangerous x Big Data (feat. Joywave) // 1979 x Smashing Pumpkins
Basically yes, and all of this. I feel like this has been such a bait-and-switch because they’re to afraid to actually make brave writing choices. This is the biggest cop out they’ve ever pulled, and that’s saying something. Like I actually had to pause and breathe when they tried to cover their ass in show by dropping that Rumple must have been talking about The Black Fairy THE WHOLE TIME DUN DUN DUUUUUUUN.
No. Fuck you. Fuck your scared little retcon.
And bless Jaime Murray, but god I hate everything about this plot because of how boring, safe, and low stakes it is. I’m sure they’re going to throw one episode of Tragic Backstory™ at her and try to fob that off as bravery, but wow. Combined with all of the rest of the sloppy, cheap, low-stakes writing in every other aspect of the show? I just can’t overlook it.
Regina and Rumple were set up to be Emma’s final battle, but A&E chickened the fuck out bc ratings or angry fans or whatever the fuck.
A/N: This is only the first part to this mini series so it’s not to to excited but it gets better promise. Destiny will be up this week ! Love you babes.
I pulled into the only empty parking spot I could find on the overly crowded lot of cars. It was the furthest from the front row I could get, but I didn’t mind much.
Today was my first day at a new job, and nerves were getting the best of me. I actually relished in the thought that the extra minute it would take me to walk from my car to the front doors would prolong the time I would have to endure the grueling task that is the first day. With awkward hello’s and insincere how do you do’s not to mention feeling like a little fish in a very big, very pretentious pound, was enough to make me restart my car and drive away. ‘I need this job.’ I told myself. It was by luck that I even got it.
I was sure that I’d totally bombed the interview. I was all over the place with my answers and stuttered way too much. So you could only imagine my surprise when a few weeks later I received a phone call from, my now boss, Martha. Later she would tell me I was excellent at interviewing and she couldn’t even tell that I was a nervous.
I was still in my car at 8:44. I had to be in the building at 9:00, but my father had always taught me to be punctual so I tried to be fifteen minutes early to everything. When the little black number changed from a four to a five, I sucked in a deep breathe and grabbed my oversized pink purse then got out of my car. I shut the door and looked into the drivers window to fix my hair one last time, before I click the lock button on my key fob and dropped my keys into my purse. I weaved through the maze of cars until I reached the front entrance of the office building. The doors were all glass with silver handles and read Prominence Legal Services in bold blue letters. I pulled open the heavy door and entered into a small waiting but luxurious room where a pretty, young, tan receptionist with black hair welcomed me with a smile.
“You here for your first day?” She asked with the same warm smile still on her face. Her name plate sitting at her desk said ‘Angie’, she stood from it and strolled over to me with her hand already extended. I took it firmly and shook and maybe a little to eagerly.
“Yes.” I said with as much fake confidence I could muster trying to cover up my pervious over excitement. ‘Why can’t I be normal for longer than twenty minutes at a time?’ I could feel my face turn warm, and knew my nerves had returned.
“Well,” she started letting go of my hand seeming not to notice my nerves at play. Maybe I was good at faking it. “I’m going to give you a small tour of things and then I’ll take you to Martha. Sound alright?”
I nodded my head in agreement not trusting myself to form words just yet. I flashed her a shy smile, the best I could do, and she turned on her heels and headed to another glass door off to the right just behind her desk. I hadn’t noticed it before but this door was taller then the others. With a long vertical silver handle. Next to it on the wall was a small black box to which Angie pulled a small white key card out of her pocket and waved it in front of it. There was a faint click and Angie pulled the door open holding it for me to walk through. I took a deep breathe and ‘Okay, you got this.“ I said pep talking myself. ‘Be brave.’. I made my way to the tan girl and stood in front of her looking through the doorway. I couldn’t see anything down the small hallway, it just ended abruptly and only allowed you to go left or right. I glanced at Angie, who nodded and smiled encouragingly. 'No turning back now.’, so I adjusted my purse on my shoulder and walked through to the hallway.
“And over there is the break room,” Angie directed pointing to a doorless entry where I could vaguely see a fridge, some microwaves, and a couple vending machines. We made a left into a row of desks. We past a few people who were busy at work, and a few that were chatting amongst themselves. I smiled shyly at everyone who we passed give my best first impression. As we walked my bag hit something making it jingle loudly with its contents catching some people’s attention. I blushed hard averting the eyes that were inevitably starring at me and walked faster to catch up with Angie.
“This will be your desk.” Angie stated. She stood next to a long white countertop like table that housed a computer, key board, and phone already.
“Over there.” She pointed to a wooden door at the end of the room behind me. “Is the copy room. It also has any supplies you may need. Pens, sticky notes, staplers, whatever.”
I only nodded again. I hadn’t said more than a couple words since I arrived and I was afraid she was starting to think I was a mute.
“Thank you so much.” I half murmured.
“No problem.” She smiled her warm toothy smile. “Now I’m going to see if Martha is ready for you. You can go grab some supplies and I’ll be back.”
“Okay.” I gulped praying she hasn’t heard the new pitch in my voice. For the past half hour, Angie had been my security blanket. But now she was throwing me into the wild, out on my own. I tried to plead with my eyes for her to stay.
“You got this.” She whispered. repeating my inward pep talk from earlier. She placed a hand on my upper arm and gave it a squeeze, before turning away back down the row desks in which we came. I sighed and set my purse on my new desk.
“Cute bag.” Someone sang behind me. I spun around to see a pale girl with strawberry blonde hair and dimples. She was dressed rather stylishly making me feel underdressed almost instantly.
“Thanks.” I smiled. “It’s a Coach purse I’ve had forever.”
“Vintage, I like that.”
I laughed at her obvious joke.
“I’m Lydia.” She grinned.
“Y/N” I mumbled returning her gesture. I was surprised at her genuine niceness. Had I just seen her and not talked to her I would assume she was stuck up.
“You got lucky.” She said recatching my attention.
“Oh?” My tone fluctuating to make the simple word sound like a question.
“Mhm, this section of desk has the greatest people you will ever meet in it. ”
“Laying it on kind of thick, aren’t we Lydia?” A girl with long dark hair and slanted eyes asked. She’d just spun around in her chair to face us.
“Yeah, you’re going to scare her away like you did that Erica girl.” This came from a girl next the dark haired girl. She had short straight brown hair that only came to her jawline, and hard expression.
“I didn’t scare Erica away. She just moved department.” The two girls giggled and Lydia rolled her eyes. “That’s Kira and Malia. They’re children as you can tell. Not really sure how they managed to get this job but maybe there is a God.”
“I’m Kira.” The dark haired girl said easing her hand a little.
“Damn Lydia, could you be any worse at this?”
“That’s Malia. You’ll get used to her harshness one day.” Lydia smirked at me before turning and sticking her tongue out at Malia.
“Harsh? I’m not harsh! Kira am I harsh?”
“No Malia, you are not harsh.” Kira responded almost robotically like this was certainly not the first time they’d had this conversation. Malia smiled proudly and snapped to Lydia raising her fist and slowly started to lift her middle finger, when a very well dressed woman with curled blonde hair and heavy makeup walked over. Malia’s eyes widened and she lifted her other hand quickly pointing to a nonexistent wound on her middle finger.
“And this scar is from a bee when I was three.”
“Interesting Malia,” the woman I now recognised as Martha said. “Y/N, can I steal you for a second?”
“Of course!” I responded without hesitation.
There was an intentional over exaggerated scoff from behind Martha and everyone turned to see where the rude sound had come. Sitting at a desk to the right of Martha was a guy. His brown hair was well kept but styled messily. He was wearing dark frame glasses that only accentuated the other features of his face, like the small moles adorning it. He had plump lips although they weren’t very full and that jawline, oh my god. He was leaning back in his seat as far as he could go with his left hand resting on the arm of his chair.
Stilinski looked up at her from his seating position then he smiled an award winning smile and shook his head.
“No. Sorry Mar. Just couldn’t believe all the accounts I have today.”
“Well, If anyone can get through them I know it’s you.” She patted him on the shoulder headed out of the rows of desks. I’d almost forgotten I was suppose to be following her and took a few steps toward until I noticed Stilinski starring at me. No, glaring. The look was just on the cusp of hatred but I didn’t understand why. I’d only just gotten here. How had I already made an enemy. His eyes were dark behind is glasses and he looked me up and down with an obvious disgust. Wait, I thought. Was that scoff for me? What had I said, done even to deserve that?
“You coming Y/N?” Martha called to me. I broke away from Stilinski’s stare and rushed passed him.
“Right, coming Martha.” I called a bit too eager again. When will these nerves stop!
“Kiss ass.” I heard mumbled from behind me.
After Martha had gone over policies and procedures, she released me back into the wild to start my actual job. I didn’t need to be trained, I had done this same work at my previous job. But, nonetheless they assigned me someone as a trainer, which thankfully was Lydia, just incase I had questions. I didn’t, of course, so I took the opportunity to get to know her. She was quite interesting. She already owned a home that she lived at by herself (well and her dog Prada), she’d only been working there a about a year but already received multiple awards for her performance. She was a real overachiever but I was glad she seemed to like me.
Later, I headed to the copy room to get the few supplies I needed. I walked down the long row of desk until I came to the wooden door Angie had pointed out earlier. There was a small plate on it that read 'Copy Room’. I turned the brass knob and pushed opened the door. There wasn’t anyone in there, but I wasn’t sure if I’d excepted there to be. It was a small room with copiers along the walls three or four of them maybe. I looked around and found, on another wall, a long shelf with the all the supplies one could ever need. I picked over the shelf looking for anything that I may need. I heard the door open and turned to see a tall man with dark hair and a slightly obscure jawline walk in to use the copier.
“Morning!” He said politely.
“Morning.” I repeated without hesitation.
The tall man just smiled a went about his business so I did the same. I saw a stack of pink sticky notes on the bottom shelf and knelt down to exchange them with the yellow ones I’d picked up earlier. I heard the tall man leave but didn’t hear anyone come in.
“Morning.” A smooth voice said from behind me.
Startled I stood up quickly hitting my head on the shelf above me dropping all the supplies in my hands.
“Morning.” I groaned rubbing at the newly formed bump. I dropped down to my knees and start picking up my things. The person who startled me rushed over to help.
“I’m sorry I didn’t mea-” he stopped talking mid sentence. I looked up to see the rude guy, Stilinski. And now I was sure that had to be his last name because no first name could be so horrendous.
“Oh.” He grimaced. He handed me a pack of paper clips then quickly got up grabbing his papers from the copier and walked out without another word.
“What the actual fuck.” I whispered to myself still holding my head with one hand and the supplies with the other.