yeah i cried making this


i’m scared! hold my hand, please? i’m scared. i’m scared… i’m scared!


i guess you could say that she has a Marvel-ous booty hehe *ahem*
i’d like to take a moment and thank fool’s gold and it’s creators for introducing me to longboader!Danny 


add sports to the list of things hetalia has either ruined or made 300% better


Today in History:  August 31st1997 - Death of Diana, Princess of Wales

Diana, Princess of Wales passed away from injuries related to a car crash suffered in the Pont de L’Alma, Paris. Her boyfriend, Dodi Al-Fayed and the car’s driver, Henri Paul, also died as a result of the accident. Their bodyguard was the only survivor. Diana was 36 years old. The accident was largely blamed on the paparazzi who were pursuing the Princess at the time, but an 18-month investigation conducted by the French Police affirmed it was largely caused by Paul, who was driving recklessly and was believed to be drunk at the time. Diana and Dodi were not wearing seat belts at the time of the accident. As the victims lay in the wrecked car, the paparazzi continued to take pictures. Critically injured, Diana was heard to murmur “Oh my God”, and “Leave me alone.” She was taken alive to the hospital but passed away at the hospital around 4am local time.  Her ex-husband, Prince Charles and her two sisters went to pick up her body the next day. Diana’s death was met with an extraordinary public reaction. Her funeral at Westminster Abbey drew an estimated 3 million mourners in London, and the worldwide television coverage was watched by 2.5 billion people. It was aired to 200 countries and broadcast in 44 languages. Her brother, Earl Spencer, gave a speech which criticised the media and the royal family, and was applauded. After the ceremony, the coffin was driven to Althorp and mourners cast flowers at the funeral procession for almost the entire length of its journey. In a private ceremony, Diana was buried on an island in the middle of a lake, wearing a black Catherine Walker dress and clutching a rosary given to her by Mother Theresa. A visitors’ centre is open during the summer months, with an exhibition about her and a walk around the lake. All proceeds go to the Diana, Princess of Wales Memorial Fund.

By September 10th, the pile of flowers outside Kensington Palace (the Princess’ residence) was 5ft deep. Her body was laid to rest at Althorp, the Spencer residence. During the four weeks following her funeral, the suicide rate in England and Wales rose by 17% and cases of self-harm by 44.3% compared with the average for that period in the four previous years. Researchers suggest this was caused by the “identification” effect, as the greatest increase in suicides was by people most similar to Diana: women aged 25 to 44, whose suicide rate increased by over 45%.


Haizaki & Kise Parallel: First Appearance


6 Years of Dan

@danisnotonfire posted his first video six years ago today and since then he’s met his best friend, created his own unique video series such as ‘reasons why dan’s a fail’ and ‘internet support group,’ been on and now has a show on BBC radio 1, made many great collaborations with other YouTubers, created a gaming channel, written an incredible book, gone on tour, and effected the lives of over 5 million people. Dan has done a lot in these six years and I personally am glad I got to watch it all happen. He’s inspired many people and managed to make them laugh. He’s creative, intelligent, well articulated, kind, and has a unique ‘relatable’ sense of humour. I’m so glad that he chose to share his life with us and would like to say thank you. 

Thank you, Dan, for posting that iconic video that makes you cringe so much. If not for you posting that video and continuing to make the great content you do, then many of us would not be the people we are today. In the book you said that you felt that you and Phil were writing it to thank us for being there so you could share your lives and ideas with us, but really we should be thanking you for allowing us to get to know you and for making us smile.

Star vs the i can't bother

I finished ep 14 and it was… I feel like… starco? You still alive? Marco likes Jackie, Jackie likes him back… yeah, I expected that. Star likes Marco - old news from that earlier truth or punishment episode. Ep 14, setting up a high school dance? Hell yes, starco. They got the stage set up for the two of them, literally.

But then the episode does a 360°. Weeeee skateboarded somewhere, got lost, and whoops, Jackie and Marco are really hitting it off! How.

Sure, Marco saves Star from that death void thing… AND immediately ditches her to go to Jackie.


Oh yeah, Star cried. NO ONE MAKES THE STAR CRY.

And so, in conclusion, even though our new couple did nothing wrong, and Ludo was technically the one who screwed stuff up, I still blame everything on Marco. Am I biased? Of course I am!

Salty right now.


Pairing: Minkey
AU: Cocoon
Rating: PG-13 for language and the mildest of mild innuendo
Word count: 2400+
Content warnings: Brief reference to deadnaming 
Other notes: This is a sidefic, and it happens shortly before the first Cocoon installment. The main AU is Onjongtae focused. Thank you to @bad-symptoms for writing enough cute Minkey to pull me out of my horrible writer’s block. 

Other installments, in chronological order:

And the prequels to Cocoon: Flirt (Ontae) and Notice Me (Jongtae)

Minho struggled up the stairs to the apartment, wincing as the thin plastic handles of each heavily laden grocery bag cut into the skin of his hands and wrists. When he got to the door, he tried briefly to reach into his pocket to fish out the key, but his hands were too full, and he settled for gently kicking the base of the door, hoping that Kibum would hear the muffled thumps from his makeshift sick bed on the living room sofa. But his boyfriend did not come to the door, and after a minute, Minho sighed, set all the bags down, and then fiddled with the key. He shivered suddenly; it was May, but there was still a chill in the air, especially as the sun tipped toward the horizon in late afternoon. At last he got the door open.

“Kibum,” he called softly, as he stooped and set his shoulder against the door to keep it from swinging shut so he could lift all the bags over the threshold. Still no response, even as he straightened and stepped over the bags and shut the door behind him. Kibum must be asleep, he thought, as he eased off his shoes and rounded the corner silently into the living room. But the rumpled nest of blankets and pillows on the couch was empty. He sighed as he saw the crumpled tissues and empty mugs and glasses and – were those candy bar wrappers? – strewn on the floor alongside the sofa. Kibum wasn’t a neat person at the best of times, but he didn’t even bother to maintain a pretense of cleanliness when he was sick.

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