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Terri (@TerriDS), who doesn’t have a tumblr, asked me to share her photo op story from Vancon:

"So I used to have a profile banner of me pretending to strangle Misha and one day William Shatner tweeted me that he loved my photo of “Cupcake” and wanted one for himself so I told him I’d be happy to strangle him again for him so instead I had J&J do this and held up the sign telling Shatner I was giving him “one squished cupcake” :D”

(Source: supermishamiga)

dragon-awe:

perihelion77:

whiteguywhowrites:

swegasarusrex:

minion524:

weeping-angels-take-the-ponds:

vonmunsterr:

ghostsneverleave:

insanihty:

xxarcane:

youremybrandnewday:

sp0tlessmiind:

tiptreecrossing:

livingmywayeveryday:

vickified:

If a clock could count down to the moment you meet your soul mate, would you want to know?

lol yes, so then i can shave.

     One minute, 37 seconds.
     My legs are shaking. Holy cow, there is no way I can do this. None.
     One minute, 29 secods.
     I glance around at the faces surrounding the room. Of course my Meeting would take place in the gross, overcrowded cafeteria.
     One minute, six seconds.
     Somewhere within these four walls, someone has the exact same countdown on their wrist. They’re going through the exact same pressure as me.
      54 seconds.
     Mom said I should be excited, not nervous. Yet I still find myself wiping my sweaty palms on my dress. I can’t believe she talked me into wearing a dress. I mean, shouldn’t  my Soul Mate meet me as I normally am? All plain jeans, blah shirts, and wild brown curls?
     30 seconds.
     Something deep within me tells me to stand up. I do, drawing the attention of my tablemates. They all know too. They smile encouragingly up at me. I chew my lip nervously.
     25 seconds.
     That same feeling pulls me towards the center of the room. My stomach drops away from me as I take a step in that direction.
     20 seconds.
     I continue in that direction. With each step the tempo of my heart picks up.
     19. Faster.
     18. Quicker.
     17. More rapid.
     16.  It’s racing.
     Oh my god this is it. The moment my life changes forever.
     My eyes search frantically around the cafeteria, searching for someone who looks as nervous as me. For someone who’s heading towards their future with no sense of direction like me.
     10 seconds.
     The feeling directs me slightly to the left. I turn to accomodate.
     5. My heart has given up entirely.
     4. I stop walking.
     3. Just waiting left.
     2. Everything is about to change.
     1. Deep breath.

     0000 d 00 h  00 m  00 s

     Someone bumps my shoulder. I twirl around and my gray eyes meet blue, blue ones.
     “Hello there, love. It appears as though we’re Soul Mates then, eh?”
     As my words fail me, the only thing I can think is “I’m so glad I shaved this morning.”

“Thats weird…” I checked my wrist, the clock had just hit the 30 second mark but I looked around and there was no one there. I was a worrisome guy overall but I felt justified, I mean today was the day I was meeting my soul mate. Not that I expected my dream girl to be in the storage closet at work but still I was nervous. 

Walking out with a box the boss had requested I walked back to my cash register setting it on the shelf. My wrist hit the 20 second mark

19 seconds

18 seconds

Where was she? I could not help but get worried that an error would pop up or that she was gone and my timer would run out with no response. I panicked, I’d change my own fate if I had to. Running out of time I hurried through the back door. There was a park outside and maybe I was supposed to be there to find my soul mate. 

10 seconds

9 seconds

A faint ding of the doorbell hit my ear. Wait was that it?? She was here! I turned around running back to the counter. “Don’t worry I’m just in the back!”

I ran out looking at my wrist as it hit zero. Out of breath “Hi I’m Matt!” Sticking out my hand for a handshake it was met by a firm hand. Meeting my soulmate’s eyes for the first time they spoke. 

“I’m Steven.” The man gave a smile “It’s nice to meet you.” 

 I watch my friend carefully. Her excitement is glowing all over her pretty face. Exactly 2 minutes left, she tells me. We’re waiting at the bus stop and the bus is coming in two minutes. I think she hoped she’d meet them on a beach at sunset or something.
 ”I mean that’s ok - these things can’t always be romantic I mean my mum met dad when he was working at the book store and it’s not like you can plan it to be romantic I just hoped, I mean everyone hopes don’t they-” she breaks off, looking at me awkwardly. “Sorry. It’s just a big day for me you know.” Yes I do know. You’ve been going on about it for the past year. I smile at her.
 ”Don’t worry. You nervous? You’ll be ok, you always are,” I grin, determined not to ruin this for her. It’s selfish of me to be moody. This is her future being determined. Right here. In now, precisely 1 minute 30 seconds.
 She smiles at me, but it isn’t quite reaching her eyes. She’s restless and keeps tapping her foot. Her eyes are wide with.. fear? Excitement? Nerves? Probably all of them and a thousand more things I can’t imagine. She keeps checking her wrist. So do I. The bus comes around the corner. 1 minute 10 seconds.
 ”Hey. I’ll leave you alone now ok? The bus is here. I’ll sit a couple of seats away, and be there if you need me,” I say, squeezing her arm reassuringly. “Good luck.” I hope it sounded sincere.

 The bus pulls up and I climb on first, taking a quick glance at her while I give the driver my ticket. She’s shaking and looks a little green. I want to give her a hug but know I shouldn’t interrupt now. I look at the passengers and it’s full of pensioners. My heart starts beating frantically. What? I can’t see anyone else at the bus stop. But she’s only 18, she can’t end up with a 80 year old. 
 I turn around and look at her - she’s breathing hard. The bus driver asks if she’s ok but she ignores him. Her eyebrows are creased and her face is flushed. Oh. Oh no. Stay calm. Someone is probably late. I give her a thumbs up and try to smile reassuringly. I think it’s more of a grimace.

 I take a seat near the back. Look at my watch. 25 seconds. She sits down a few seats away.

 Suddenly a dark shape runs past my window and a boy jumps on the bus. He has that same frantic look in his eyes. I breathe out with relief.
 ”Yeah get on, we’re running late,” the driver says, taking his ticket. The boy looks around, carefully stepping towards the seats. He’s tall and handsome, holding a sketchbook. I smile slightly; my friend hates art.
 4 seconds
 He spots her.
 3 seconds
 His eyes widen as he walks closer, as if being pulled by an invisible rope.
 2 seconds
 My friend stands up too, that same rope tying her to him.
 1 second -
 ”I was worried the bus would leave. No way could I miss meeting my soul mate!” he jokes, though he looks just as nervous as she. They smile at each other as they both sit down together. I can’t hear what they’re talking about.

 I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Suddenly I’m crying. Hot tears dropping down my cheeks.

 I look at my wrist, scratching at it. Trying to get rid of it. 

 The numbers have never changed.

 They’ve always been at 0.

Oh my god that last one…. My heart… The feels….

AGH ALL OF YOU WRITE A BOOK THIS VERY INSTANT. PLEASE.

this is beautiful and everyone needs to read it

i hate you tumblr, fucking breaking my goddamn heart

Then, one day, you’re having dinner with a friend you’ve known for as long as you can remember (or perhaps a friend of the family), and you finally talk to them about your counter. You’re crying, explaining that it’s always been at 0, and so you must not have a soul-mate.

Their eyes widen. Tears begin to form, and they throw their arms around you.

"Mine has always been at 0 too."

And that’s when you know…

10 seconds: the doorbell rings, i get out of my chair

5 seconds: i give the man my money

0 seconds: i open the box. it is the most glorious pizza i have ever seen in my life.

Just imagine that when you’re just starting kindergarten and they teach you about the time on your wrist, and you raise your hand in confusion and say “Mine isn’t working.” and one other kid says “Mine too.” And it’s the first kid you met on the first day of school. And your teacher just smiles at you two and you just sit there, young and confused until it sinks in a bit later.

I can’t belive that this is actually on my dash. I love this post. There are so many ways to do this.

I DEMAND A MANY CHAPTER BOOK THIS INSTANT

Oh man. I’m gonna have to do this.

The ticker on my wrist was only 3 minutes away from initiating what would be the end of my life.

I wasn’t interested. I didn’t want it. Soul mate? Seriously? 

A few of my friends had already met theirs. They seemed happy. Hell knows I was, but as the ticker ticked ticked away I dreaded the second more and more.

Besides, the only person I had ever been in love with had already met his. 

2:30 minutes now, great.

It was a stupid little thing. Like all new friends, we compared timers to see if ours coincided, which they didn’t. There would be no point in trying anything, right?

Tell that to the thing in my chest that needs to pump blood and keep its filthy mouth shut.

I fell, dove, and face planted for him in no time at all. Everything I had ever wanted wrapped up in a bow that read, “Do not open until NOT FOR YOU HONEY.”

Damn it all.

The screen in front of me scrolled upwards and the ticker on my wrist kept counted down. 2 minutes. 

They said to just live life normally, that your soul mate would come no matter what you did or where you were. 

Maybe locking myself in my room, curtains drawn, lights off, and laptop open would repel any love from the immediate area.

Besides, the only people who like people who use chat rooms were freaks who used chat rooms too. And all my favorite freaks were Kappa-ing a mod to death. Poor soul.

1:30 minutes.

My mom decided to leave me alone for this. She had the freaking day marked in her iPhone 4 years in advanced, but backed off, and rightfully so. No need to interfere. 

I caught a question thrown my way in the chat. 

"How long?"

"Too soon. 45 seconds."

I got up and checked the lock on my door again.

40 seconds.

Sat down to respond to another question.

"And you’re here?"

"You know I don’t want this."

30 seconds. 

I closed my eyes and leaned back, my hands morphing my face into goo.

I fucking hate change, hate new.

15 seconds.

It’s never given me anything good. Just another challenge.

10 seconds.

Don’t force me to accept how I’m changing.

5 seconds.

I don’t want to be the different one.

1 second.

I looked at the screen in front of me. A new message popped up, in that disgusting spring green that hurt my eyes it was so bright. My brain didn’t register what the hell was happening past my eyes burning.

TheSingularStereo: When does the stream start?

MehILivestreamSometimesIGuess: !timer.

TheSingularStereo: Oh. Thank you! Btw, why are you all here?

MehILivestreamSometimesIGuess: Just hanging out, Stereo. Feel free to join us if you’d like. We’re a pretty funny group, except Foox Kappa.

TheSingularStereo: XD Thanks! It’s very nice to meet you, soulmate.

God damnit.

Damn Peri

(Source: illness-and-instruments)

lastuli:

Illustrated poetry: ‘Oh rascal children of Gaza’

Rafah-born author and poet Khaled Juma wrote a heartbreaking tribute to the children of the Gaza Strip amidst the missiles striking his hometown. At least 506 Palestinian children have been killed since Israel commenced its latest invasion of Gaza on July 8, 2014

Photograph #1: A Palestinian boy, who fled with his family from their home during Israeli air strikes, bathes his brother at a United Nations-run school in the Jabalya Refugee Camp in the northern Gaza Strip on July 31, 2014. The school is a designated shelter for Palestinians who were displaced by Israel’s offensive. Photo credit: Mohammed Salem

Photograph #2: A Palestinian girl reacts at the scene of an explosion carried out by the Israeli military that killed at least eight children and wounded 40 more in a public garden in Gaza City on July 28, 2014. Photo credit: Finbarr O’Reilly

Photograph #3: A traumatized Palestinian child is comforted by a man arranging care for him in a hospital in Gaza City following an Israeli air strike on July 9, 2014. Photo credit: Momen Faiz

Photograph #4: A Palestinian child pulls out toys from a box at a local market in Gaza City during a temporary ceasefire on August 6, 2014. Palestinian and Israeli delegations met in Cairo with Hamas demanding an end to the siege on Gaza and Israel demanding a demilitarization of the territory. Photo credit: Lefteris Pitarakis

Photograph #5: A Palestinian boy sleeps at a United Nations-run school in Gaza City on July 14, 2014, after fleeing with his family from their home in Beit Lahya. Photo credit: Mohammed Salem

Photograph #6: Doctors tend to injured children while a young girl sitting on her mother’s lap cries at a hospital in Rafah in the southern Gaza Strip on August 4, 2014. Photo credit: Eyad El Baba

Photograph #7: A Palestinian girl cries while being treated at a hospital in Beit Lahya following after sustaining injuries from an Israeli air strike on a United Nations school in the Jabalya Refugee Camp on July 30, 2014. Photo credit: Khalil Hamra

Photograph #8: Two Palestinians girls celebrate the first day of Eid Al-Fitr on the grounds of a United Nations school in the Jabalya Refugee Camp in the northern Gaza Strip on July 28, 2014. Their families are among the dozens that have fled their homes and sought refuge in the school. Normally, Muslim families in Palestine celebrate Eid Al-Fitr by visiting one another and gifting children with new clothes and shoes. Photo credit: Khalil Hamra

Photograph #9: One-and-a-half year old Razel Netzlream was killed after she was fatally hit by shrapnel from an Israeli air strike on an adjacent home the previous day. Her father carries her body to the funeral in Khan Younis on July 18, 2014. Photo credit: Alessio Romenzi

Photograph 10: A portrait of Shahed Quishta, 8, is fixed to a pillar in her home in Beit Lahya on August 16, 2014, after an Israeli tank fired a shell into the living room. She was killed on July 22, 2014. Photo credit: Khalil Hamra

cumaeansibyl:

kisssinpink:

lloveuntilwebleed:

rareandradiantmaiden:

gaymermaids:

knifeplay:

girl-bear:

campaignofdistractions:

  • The monetary cost for a rape victim to receive treatment at a hospital in the United States.

EVERYONE

EVERYONE

EVERYONE SHOULD KNOW ABOUT THIS

what the actual FUCK

I wish I could even be shocked

Just gonna keep reblogging this

fuck

this is the biggest crock of fucking bullshit i’ve ever fucking seen FUCK

“but why didn’t you go to the hospital?”

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