(this is to my mother btw)

pjamerelphy  asked:

🎨 Lets see some more aaaaaart! ( Btw, I've had a thought to call Tidus "Agent Snow" for some reason, I don't know why. ) ( from @fhawnmillahn )

That perhaps wouldn’t be entirely inappropriate! 

This was actually the very first commission I ever got, another one done by the lovely Nipuni ~  In Aion Tidus/Isen grew up in Beluslan, one of the coldest places you could inhabit, in FFXIV he moved to Coerthas after his mother passed. This was by far my favorite spot, being in Australia we don’t get snow where I am so to me it’s still a novelty but I hear it’s quiet a pain! 

4

MariEli phone backgrounds (´ ∀ ` *)

requested by @sylveonpng ~♡

My mom reacts to the men of MK X

Kuai

Mom: Wow….I don’t know he’s kind of sexy but…weird looking. I love his eyes though!

Hanzo

Mom: Looks like a woman with a beard…dude needs to man up.

Jax

Mom: There’s an actual black man is this? Wow I hope he’s not dead. He’s pretty good lookin, I’m lovin the beard and the metal arms too.

Johnny 

Mom: Eh…he’s hot…but he’s not. If that makes sense.

Kenshi

Mom: Oh look it’s Daredevil!

Ermac

Mom: This man is in dire need of some lotion…and some food.

Kano (Revolution)

Mom: OH MY GOD BIG DADDY’S BACK!

Regular Kano

Mom: Okay…what the hell happened?

Klassic Kano

Mom: EW WTF?! HE LOOKS LIKE A RAT! 

Erron Black

Mom: HA! Maybe it’s Mabelline!

Raiden

Mom: Aww he looks like a sad little schoolgirl. Who punched his nuts?

Kotal Kahn 

Mom: Why is he blue and naked? 

Kotal Kahn (Alternate costume)

Mom: That is NOT the same guy! That man is pasty as hell! 

Quan Chi

Mom: ….Victoria what the hell is that?

Shinnok

Mom: What the fuck is that!? Some of these men look really strange…

2

‘You kidding Uncle Rau? I could beat Kori without even lifting a finger!’ 


‘Heh; You’re a lot like your mother little one’

Happier - Jughead Jones

Request: Hi there! I’ve been obsessed with Happier by Ed Sheeran lately. I was wondering if maybe you could do one where Jughead and the Reader broke up and Betty and Jug are together and maybe the readers a singer and she sings the song at a show or something? Thank youuu 💕💕 You writing is amazing btw

@satanwithstardust also wrote a fic based on this song, you should go and read it because she’s bae kthxbye :3 oh and uhh this goes out to… my mother! @betty-coopers-number-one-stan 

Warnings: saddish :c

Hope this was okay, and thank you so much!

Words: 2,302

It had been a month and you still found yourself huddled up in your duvet, trying to keep your mind off of recent events by listening to Hamilton and Divide on repeat. Said recent events included a certain boy who’s name used to make your cheeks heat up and your smile bloom wide. 

Currently, the name sent a spear of repentance, grief and anguish through you, practically embedding itself in your heart so you could hear it tear in two.

Keep reading

!!Pay me to draw you something $NAME YOUR PRICE $15+$ - desperately need money for rent

EMERGENCY COMMISSIONS: THE POST

hi friends. idk how to start off posts like this, so i’m gonna try and jump right into it. 

So a couple of months ago I made a post about moving out of my mother’s house and that fucked up situation and coming here to where i live now, and how stressful it’s been trying to make the money work. this is the post in question btw In that post I mentioned how I was now living in a room paying $200 a month or $50 a week and how it was hard to save money as soon as i moved in. Well it got.. harder.. I really don’t know why so many things had to happen this month, but I am buried rn. 

Currently I owe $100 in November’s rent and now another $200 for this month that JUST started. I was really hoping my paycheck would be at least $100 this week but it’s just barely even close at a whopping $72 rounded up

Honestly Idk what to do. on average I make around…$30-$70 a paycheck, depending on how many shifts I pick up that are hourly pay (I work busing and kitchen jobs at the restaurant I’m employed at) I really thought with the doubles I was doing I was going to make more than what I did. and I technically did make what I thought it would be, but again after taxes I’m left with crap. I make tips too, but because I have literally $0 on me at all times, it’s immediately spent on food. It’s either that or I’m scraping up loose change and buying things with that.

I’m so sorry to be making this post but it’s really really bad. I technically owe $300 rn, not including all the fucking cellphone bills I haven’t been paying that THANKFULLY my uncle is helping me out with right now. It’s just so fucking bad. I can hardly afford food for my cat or myself most days and I’m not trying to turn this into a huge pity party post but I really seriously need help. 

My bank account is linked to my paypal and not even that has a cent in it. 

BUT BASICALLY WHAT IM TRYING TO GET AT IS JUST THIS:

If anyone can be as so kind as to like help me out here that would really rock

 I need to make at least $130 dollars to pay off at least this month alone and I can worry about the other $100 I owe in due time. 

I don’t have to worry about food for the time being cuz i stocked up on bread and mac and cheese, but yeah.

So how this’ll work is, name your price with a minimum of $15 and I’ll draw you something like this:

If you’re interested please contact me asap through fanmail or askbox 

I’ll be doing full body or whatever interests you, full color like the colored examples above no extra charge on color, no extra charge on extra characters, but I can’t promise backgrounds cuz i suck at them gomen

I literally need anything I can get, donations, commissions, gratuity, a box of money mailed to me, anything.

I really do not want to get kicked out of this place it is literally the only place I have left

and if you cant commission me, you don’t want to or whatever, please just like.. throw this post around or something. 

TERMS OF SERVICE: 

will draw: 

OCs/FCs/Fandom/Anything

NSFW is ok with 18+ characters involved.

Please provide refs if necessary for OCs, that can be previous commissions you’ve paid for, or art you’ve drawn yourself, or a very in-depth written description with faceclaims and all that, I want your OC to look like your OC! <3

paypal only pls 

my paypal is: failure.to.land@aol.com 

 [with my legal name presented so don’t be alarmed if you’re like who tf is this]

you’re allowed to do whatever the fuck you want with the thing i draw you, print it, burn it, sell it to google, idc I just need to make rent.

And lastly, I’d like to livestream the commissions as I knock them out, cuz that shit keeps me productive and on task. Thank you so much for reading and stuff I’m sorry for bothering y’all 

The Imperfections of human beings.

I wanted to write some formal stuff about T6T now that I’m on a real keyboard. I spent the entire night just sifting through people’s very angry, upset, hurt posts about John, Sherlock, Mary, and even Molly.  I think people need to step back and realize what this show is actually about: human beings.

I grew up in a hugely broken home.  My mother’s 6 year relationship with the man of her dreams was shattered when he cheated on her after 6 months of being married.  Our lives effectively ended as she spiraled into alcoholism and a massive depression which eventually killed her.  I’ve grown up literally thinking that cheating on your spouse is how Satan prepares you for your eternity in the boiling shit cauldron of Hell.  In short: I. Hate. Cheaters.

Naturally, when I saw what John was engaging in, my anger shot up like a piss volcano.  My instant reaction was fury, to drop the man and his character like a hot dog patty.  But then, I remembered, that this show has one true characteristic above all others: human beings are not just one thing. People, are flawed.  People, are never ever perfect, no matter how much they try to be.

Listen to what Mary said to John.  She said it was so hard to try and live up to the perfection that she thought John was.  That perfection is (and ALWAYS has been, y’all) a facade.  I never did understand why people thought John was an angel when it’s demonstrated in the very first episode that he is NOT.  I was able to see that, but I was able to see his goodness too.  Same with Sherlock.

Ironically, both of these idiots have spent the better half of 3 seasons trying to BE perfect.  It’s a lie. It can never be.  The irony of Sherlock calling out Mary’s “facade” in HLV just…I sat there grinning from ear to ear because honey you are ALL operating behind a facade.  Every single one of you.  John thinks he wants a quiet life but in actuality he is drawn to catastrophic danger. Copy that verbatim for Mary.  Sherlock thinks he’s a perfect thinking machine without emotion, yet he sits and bawls over his childhood pet. Molly thinks she wants a normal dude who goes to pubs but instead she really wants “a high functioning sociopath”. For God’s sake Mrs. Hudson used to help run a drug ring. Mycroft is perfectly fine covering up murders, sending out assassins, whatever it takes to keep his interests intact.  Ha ha ha these people are aaaaall fuuuuuucked.

 Now, I am still furious with John.  John was ultimately responsible for his family’s destruction.  It was inevitable.  His undying love for danger, despite having a newborn baby in his life, put him and his family on a collision course with tragedy.  Sherlock added to this, but he did not cause it directly.  If John had truly been a responsible dad he’d have picked up and moved his family to the damned suburbs or something and quit solving cases with Sherlock…but he didn’t.  Now, he’ll have to deal with that guilt.  The guilt of being a major reason why his baby girl will now grow up motherless. Sherlock was responsible for the final straw, but John was responsible for the haystack.

And that’s the point of Sherlock.  These people are all terribly, helplessly broken.  I think the most pure person in this show is Molly Hooper, and she’s not perfect either.  There’s only ever been one perfect human being and they nailed Him to a cross.

Having said all of this, and while John’s actions in T6T I found to be absolutely unlikable, reprehensible, and gross…I know he is just a man.  His life was changing at an alarming pace.  A new baby, from what I have heard, throws couples into turmoil all the time.  The man still suffers from mental illness.  He is now a single father, hates his best friend (he’ll get over it, y’all, the writing will make sure of that), and his wife went to her grave believing he was a perfect person when he knows in his heart he is anything but. John Watson made his bed, and he’ll lie in it forever now.  It will now be his personal journey to redeem himself for what has happened.  Sherlock has been on his own personal journey for, well, ever. Now it’s John’s turn.  I’m willing to give him the same chance I’ve given to his stupid friend.  

No one is perfect in Sherlock.  No one is perfect in life.  That’s the point.  We can sit and hate the people who’ve wronged us, and believe me, I still hold a lot of hate in my heart for my stepdad for turning my mother into a pile of rubbish and causing me to grow up a mess of a person.  But in the end, it makes zero positive difference in my life.  That hate is an anchor on me, a weight I don’t want and am still filing at it’s chain to free myself from. 

We forgive or we don’t, but we move on regardless of what choice we make.  We’ll have to see if John Watson makes better choices in the future.  For that little baby girl…he’d better.  I’m willing to wait and see.

The Full Moon Attack

Sister Winchester : The Full Moon Attack

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Sister!reader, Sam Winchester x Sister!reader

Y/N = Your Name

Y/E/C = Your Eye Colour

Summary: Werewolf attack in a motel room where Dean and Sam are knocked out quickly by the monster. It’s up to you to protect your brothers, but at what cost?

Warning: Blood and death and all that stuff that you would imagine that comes with a werewolf attack idk

A/N: Idk if this will be any good I literally just came on here to look through my feed and then found myself writing this. But it’s a little fluffy and a little sad so whatever floats your boat, take what you need from this. It’s more of a Sam x sister then Dean x sister btw. Lots of love xx 

Originally posted by adaav

Shattering glass and a deep growling ripping from a human’s voice box pulled you awake from your light hunters sleep. Your hand gripped around your mother’s gun under your pillow as Dean’s voice rung in your head, “shoot first, ask question later”. So you jumped up into a kneeling position on your dead and pointed the familiar gun towards the werewolf pinning Dean down on the kitchen floor as you let the bullets fly, echoing around the room as Dean lay frozen on the ground. The werewolf looked up and growled louder, I guess you didn’t have the silver bullets in this gun. 

The werewolf now had it’s attention on you as it prowled over to you. Panic was creeping up your back and fogging your mind but you stood strong and confident in the werewolf’s wake. You could handle this, you had to, you had too so you could protect your injured brothers. The werewolf came to a stand next to the also unconscious Sam as it lent down to sniff him as he started to drool. It’s mouth extended and it’s pointed teeth glistened under the swinging lights. 

Keep reading

Someone to Stay - AU

Previous chapters

Chapter 3

“And this happened, how?”

Claire probed gently into the child’s scalp, retreating when his shoulders hunched in pain. The boy glanced up at her, smiling sheepishly. Fergus - as his chart read – reached out for his mother’s hand, who held it tightly with worry since walking into A&E.

“I was playing with my friends, in the backyard of Louis’s house. There were some rocks there and we took turns to see who could throw one the furthest, you know?” His legs started swinging back on forth, as he recounted his tale.

“Yes, I know,” Claire rolled her eyes, but smiled gently. “Continue.”

“And Louis took this giant rock and heaved it at the chain-link fence that separates his yard from the neighbors’ and the rock bounced back and hit me in the head. It hurt a lot, but I was alright, but then my friends started yelling something awful, and I felt a tickle on my face. It was my blood, a whole lot of it!” Fergus’s eyes grew wide in remembrance, and turned a little pale again. His mother squeezed his hand, shaking her head at the boys’ exploits.

“I see. Well, here’s the doctor now!” Claire swept aside as Dr. Abernathy joined them in the small room. “He’ll have you set to rights in no time.”

Claire assisted Dr. Abernathy as he anesthetized the area, and began suturing the torn scalp. Fergus cried out but once, and then pursed his lips bravely, while his mother turned away from the needle. In about twenty minutes, the doctor was done, and was busy giving the boy’s mother instructions on how to care for the wound and reassuring Fergus he would have a small “wicked scar” to show off to his friends.

Claire smiled and waved goodbye at the retreating patient. She began the final touches on the necessary paperwork before filing away the information at the nurses’ station. Her head bent over the documents, a shadow was suddenly cast over the paper.

“Claire.”

She froze.

It had been four weeks since she’d last heard that voice. She wouldn’t pretend now that she hadn’t thought about it, or even missed it sometimes, but it was still unexpected. Fighting to get her features into control before they became transparent on her glass face, she took a deep breath and raised her head to look at him.

Frank’s face was the same, handsome and refined, with deep lines etched into the corners of his mouth. At times amused, others worried or even angry, today the lines told a story of contrition. Claire didn’t feel like reading it.

She set her lips into a straight line, and stared at Frank. She refused to be the one to speak first, and damned if she thought it was good to see him again, the lying cheating bastard.

“You lying, cheating bastard.” So much for self control.

“Claire, please…” Frank’s hands – so polished, so genteel – reached out to her, pleading, but not quite touching. “Listen, I have—“

“Nothing to say, and nothing I want to hear. I want you to leave.” Claire pushed her chair back, tossing the pen onto the papers and striding out of the nurses’ station, Frank right behind her.

“I know what I did was stupid, and unfair, and you did not deserve to find out like that, Claire, I’m sorry!” Once outside the A&E doors, he grasped her shoulder to stop her.

Claire whirled and shoved him back, catching him unawares. “No, I did not deserve that at all, you wanker!” She pushed her hair out of her face, and let her rage fly. “Four years, you sodding bastard! Four years of my life that I will never get back!” She walked back, tears streaming uncontrollably; after her trip to Scotland, back in London she had refused all contact with Frank, pushing him out of her thoughts and out of her life. He had made attempts, but she had changed her number and slept often at the hospital through endless shifts. Avoiding, resisting, trying to heal. “Go away!”

“Claire, I mean to explain and I want you to listen. Let’s go.” Frank came at her, intending to take her by the arm and drag her away somewhere they could talk without witnesses to his disgrace. His hand, poised to grab her, was slapped away by a figure looming behind Claire.

“I believe the lady asked ye to go.” That soft, burred cadence. Claire turned to find Jamie Fraser himself standing behind her, his eyes a steely blue. His gaze was trained on Frank, who retreated minutely in the face of this new threat.

“I don’t think this is any of your business. Leave us alone to talk, will you?” Frank’s bravado lasted all of ten seconds until Jamie stepped out from behind Claire and asserted his height and breadth of shoulder. In his black leather jacket and unkempt red hair he looked positively dangerous.

She had no words for what was unfolding before her, confused at seeing Jamie in London at her place of work, and watching him defend her from Frank’s unwelcome advances. Her heart surged with adrenaline; whether her fight response or Jamie’s presence was responsible, she didn’t know.

“Frank, please, just go. There’s nothing else to say,” Claire said. Jamie remained still as a statue in front of her, shielding her from Frank. Frank tried to peer around the tall Scot’s figure, but Jamie wouldn’t let him make eye contact.

“Ye heard her. Go now, before I make ye.” Jamie turned to Claire, and gestured towards the hospital doors. “Inside, a nighean,  and call security if ye must.” The time elapsed had felt like hours to her, but only a few minutes had actually passed. Crossing the A&E doors, Dr. Abernathy met her and caught her by the elbows as Claire trembled slightly.

“Claire? What is it? Do you need help?” The good doctor glanced outside and watched the confrontation. “Who’s that?”

“Frank,” Claire managed. “He showed up, wanted to speak with me. I said no. He followed me outside, and then—well, Jamie was there.”

“I take it Jamie is the redhead. Here, Lady Jane.” Dr. Abernathy, calling Claire by his nickname for her, led her to an empty chair in the waiting room. Outside, Jamie called out to Frank using what sounded like a few choice curse words in Gaelic as Claire’s former partner disappeared around the corner, the back of his neck flushed red in anger.

Claire breathed a sigh of relief. Jamie walked through the automatic doors, and his eyes immediately went to Dr. Abernathy holding Claire’s hand in support. They tightened momentarily before his face broke out in a gentle smile.

“Hi, I’m Jamie, a friend of Claire’s.” He held out a large hand, forcing the doctor to relinquish his hold on her.

“I’m Joe Abernathy, a colleague of Claire’s. Thank you for your help, man. Lady Jane here was having a pretty rough time of it.” He shook Jamie’s hand fiercely in gratitude, and palmed his shoulder. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. LJ, take your break now, why don’t you.” Behind Jamie’s unsuspecting back, Dr. Abernathy winked and strolled off.

Claire flushed, cursing her glass face once again. She’d be lying (but only to herself) if she hadn’t thought about Jamie every once in a while for the past few weeks. A little. She glanced up at Jamie, who took a seat beside her on the uncomfortable chairs.

He broke the silence first. “Lady Jane?”

She took a deep breath and managed a smile. “Just a nickname Joe has for me. He’s American, and found my English accent hilarious when he first arrived.”

“And the other one? The rude one?” Jamie frowned.

“Thank you so much Jamie. That was… unexpected. Frank shouldn’t have been here,” said Claire, shuddering briefly.

“Frank. Was he yer bad romantic experience?”

“You remember that?” Claire asked in surprise.

“I remember many things about ye. Mostly, how I forgot to ask for yer number last time we met,” Jamie grinned. “Ye didn’t offer either, so…”

“So how come you’re here?” Claire blurted out before she could stop herself. Jamie brushed his hand against the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Weel—seeing as I had no way of contacting ye or even yer surname to go by, I asked Rupert. He was verra much enamored of yer friend Geillis, and he asked her about ye. For me, ye ken.”

“You’re in London. I thought you were on tour.”

“We’ve done with the tour. I wanted talk to ye. See ye, mebbe. Ask ye to join me for dinner, perhaps.”

Claire felt the telltale flush creeping up her neck once more. She looked down at her hands, twisting in her lap. She didn’t know what to say to this man. This unexpected savior who had come all the way from God knew where. To see her. Just her.

“I… don’t know. I don’t know what to say.” Claire felt the uncontrollable urge to laugh or cry. And she didn’t know if she wanted to hug or strangle Geillis.

“Claire. I dinna mean to push ye now.” Jamie leaned in. “It doesna have to be dinner. I’ll take whatever ye can give me. Coffee, if ye like. A cup of water from the cooler would do as well.”

“But why?” She met his eyes this time; she let him have a glimpse of the turmoil inside, the furious pain and anger of betrayal that still raged within. The feeling that would not let her open up quite yet. Perhaps ever.

“Why? You’re bonny, have eyes like whiskey and a strength about ye—“

“Strength?” Claire’s voice shook slightly. “I don’t know about that.”

“I do. I understand yer wounds are raw and smartin’ and I respect that. I just want to get to know ye a bit better, as a friend. I’ll not ask for more than ye want to give. Is that alright?”

“Coffee.” Coffee with a friend was alright. No danger there. They had already had coffee before.

Jamie’s smile was blinding. “Coffee is fine. When?”

“Tomorrow? 6 o’clock.” Before she could change her mind, she stood. “I must get back to my shift.”

“I’ll be here. Til 6 then.” He unfolded himself gracefully from the chair and strode to the doors.

“Oh, and Jamie?” He turned.

“It’s Beauchamp. Claire Beauchamp.”