.........i should stop downloading a bunch of things all at once

US Presidents As Dril Tweets
  • George Washington: another day volunteering at the betsy ross museum. everyone keeps asking me if they can fuck the flag. buddy, they wont even let me fuck it
  • John Adams: "ah boo hoo hoo i want to post Foul comments to content leaders" Fat Chance, Dimwit. I will annihilate you under bulwark of the Law and God.
  • Thomas Jefferson: Q: If your post was proven by a counsil of wise men to be racist, or bullshit, would you bar it from the record? A: I do not delete my posts
  • James Madison: (sniffing a crumpled up one dollar bill i found on the floor of a dog kennel) ah.. thats greenbacks baby
  • James Monroe: for decades i have traversed the unforgiving mountains and rivers of south america, hoping to catch a glimpse of the fabled "ass downloader"
  • John Quincy Adams: "This Whole Thing Smacks Of Gender," i holler as i overturn my uncle's barbeque grill and turn the 4th of July into the 4th of Shit
  • Andrew Jackson: handing Faves over to my enemies is FRAUD !! base, contemptible FRAUD!
  • Martin Van Buren: Food $200
  • Data $150
  • Rent $800
  • Candles $3,600
  • Utility $150
  • someone who is good at the economy please help me budget this. my family is dying
  • William Henry Harrison: (spends all of 7 seconds skimming some blog posts) yep. just as i knew all along. having pnuamonia is good
  • John Tyler: fuck "jokes". everything i tweet is real. raw insight without the horse shit. no, i will NOT follow trolls. twitter dot com. i live for this
  • James K. Polk: thhere is no such thing as charisma, and art is fake. the only metrics by which we must determine the worth of a man are Strength and Wisdom
  • Zachary Taylor: the doctor reveals my blood pressure is 420 over 69. i hoot & holler outta the building while a bunch of losers tell me that im dying
  • Millard Fillmore: trying to heal..... please donate to my go fund me... $10 will make me less racist... $100 will make me extremely less racist...thank you...
  • Franklin Pierce: blocked. blocked. blocked. youre all blocked. none of you are free of sin
  • James Buchanan: #NationalGirlfriendDay please cherish your gal's.. in honor of us, the single Boys who must sacrifice all companionship to #CarryTheBrand...
  • Abraham Lincoln: unloading an entire belt of ammo at me with a minigun or some such device will now get you "Blocked"
  • Andrew Johnson: who the fuck is scraeming "LOG OFF" at my house. show yourself, coward. i will never log off
  • Ulysses S. Grant: i regret being tasked the emotional burden of maintaining the final bastion of morality and Nice manners in this endless ocean of human SHIT
  • Rutherford B. Hayes: using the toilet when i hear Our national anthem start to play. i do what i must. i stand tall in complete agony; as shit runs down my leg,
  • James A. Garfield: too much truth in such little time. feeling the heat cominh down to silence me... signing off........ for now
  • Chester A. Arthur: i WILL wise the fuck up. i WILL super charge my content for 2017. i WILL get blue check mark
  • Grover Cleveland: the way i see it, people who come on here and submit content that is not up to par, could possibly be considered the "Villains" of this site
  • Benjamin Harrison: i help every body, im not racist, i keep myself nice, and when i ask for a single re-tweet in return i am told to fuck off, fuck myself, etc
  • William McKinley: boy oh boy do i love purchasing large amounnts of Fool's Gold. wait a minute... fools gold fucking sucks. this stuff is no good..!! Fuck !!!
  • William H. Taft: ah.. the perfect Souffle! cant wait to dig in to t(*EVERY PIPE IN MY HOUSE EXPLODES AT THE SAME TIME, COVERING ME IN SHIT AND BOILING WATER*
  • Woodrow Wilson: the conflicted supersoldier stares over the horizon as he smokes a cigarette. "war is the most fucked up thing ever." he takes a sip of beer
  • Warren G. Harding: somebody please Bribe me
  • Calvin Coolidge: aggressively joyless oaf hhere. painfully obnoxious respect demander checkign in. extremely dim witted frowning man looking for pals
  • Herbert Hoover: it is really quite astonishing that I have yet to win The Lottery, given how good I am at selecting six numbers and saying them out loud
  • Franklin D. Roosevelt: ive never heard of this “europe” but it sounds like a big bunch of shit to me
  • Harry Truman: everybody wants to be the guy to write the tweet that solves racism once and for all because it would look good as hell on a resume
  • Dwight D. Eisenhower: my "F*&k It!! Let's Go Golfin" t-shirt maintains a tenacious stranglehold on my life. after 1,125 days of Golf my body is twisted, deformed
  • John F. Kennedy: when you do sutuff like... shoot my jaw clean off of my face with a sniper rifle, it mostly reflects poorly on your self
  • Lyndon B. Johnson: incredibly handsome , charismatic famous boy credited with ending income inequality after saying that slumlords should be called "dumblords"
  • Richard Nixon: i attribute the complete failure of my brand to the actions of detractors, oor my “trolls”, as it were, as well as my own constant fuckups
  • Gerald Ford: shutting computer down until the shitty moods & attitudes can fuck off., if you need me ill be on my other computer, sititng 60° to my right
  • Jimmy Carter: i warnned you all that bad things would happen if you kept letting your wives wear jeans. AND NOW LOOK! the damn gas prices are up again
  • Ronald Reagan: spend a lot of time thinking about how sometimes even war criminals can be heroes sometimes... Dont like it? Click the unfollow buttobn
  • George H.W. Bush: just thought off an idea i believe to be bad ass. lets find the address of the leader of isis, and mail him/ her pieces of our SHIT
  • Bill Clinton: were at the point now, that when i offer to impregnate my girl followers, people assume my motives are sexual. disgusting, grow the fuck up,
  • George W. Bush: friday night gathering up together a big pile of things i like to respect (flags, crucifixes ,etc) and just roll around in it ,give kisses,
  • Barack Obama: my IQ has increased 10 points ever since i stopped tollerating people mucking about, on the time line
  • Donald Trump: no
17 on Tumblr (Jun)

hohoho here is the requested Jun on Tumblr! can you believe I actually got around to continuing this series lmaO

  • *cracks knuckles* *rubs hands*
  • let’s get started hohoho
  • okay so we all know Jun reads novels online and what not right
  • and seventeen has shamelessly, on a few occasions, admitted to searching themselves up online
  • so one day, Jun, being, well, JUN, searches up a fanfic about himself and he’s casually scrolling through naver when a title catches his eye
  • and it’s a posted on tumblr fic
  • at first he’s all like “????????” and innocently wonders what tumblr is, but then he asks vernon who then widens his eyes because yknow tumblr is mainly known for porn
  • he decides to venture into the unknown anyway
  • he starts off by reading the fic that got him there in the first place, and wow is he hooked
  • he kinda forgets that he’s the main character because it feels so surreal and different but at the same time similar to his own personality
  • but damn! he’s enjoying this fanfic way more than he should be
  • (don’t imagine an emo wen junhui staring at his phone intently at 3am about to internally explode because fic-him and the oc are giving each other the cold shoulder)
  • (and don’t imagine him stifling his laughs with a pillow to avoid waking up the other members)
  • yeah 
  • don’t
  • and let’s face it, he probably didn’t realise tumblr existed as a mobile app until he finished reading the entire fic
  • when he realises it is a mobile app he’s so excited and literally falls over himself downloading it
  • his username is probably some shit like “wjhui179696″
  • he searches up the fanfic that he read by the title, and finds the blog that posted it
  • and he’s awestruck
  • the blog is so pretty and the theme is so warm and the description is so nice and!!!!!!!
  • he falls in love instantly
  • guess who owns that blog
  • that’s right
  • you
  • and you don’t just post 17 fanfics, you also post a great deal of other writings and poems and short stories, but your svt stuff always seemed like the only things that got reblogs so you stopped writing your poems and stuff for a while and focused more on the fics
  • and wen junhui is so enamored he finds himself scrolling through your entire blog and looking through all your pre-svt stuff and he’s like
  • shit not only are they a seventeen fan, they’re also generally just a really good author and poet who puts out really meaningful things!
  • and you have this one poem written in chinese for a module you took a long time ago and it’s so beautiful 
  • that jun took a quote from that poem and used it as his kkt status
  • obsession?? noOooOoOOooo what psh
  • anyways
  • he notices you don’t write such stuff anymore and he gets kinda sad 
  • so he sends you an anon ask that goes “Hello I’m a new follower but I realised that you stopped posting your original poems and short stories after a while, is it okay if you let me know why?”
  • and you receive the ask and !!! you didn’t actually think anyone would notice that you stopped putting out those poems and stories because they never got many notes anyways
  • you’re kinda touched and a small grin forms on your face because someone actually noticed? 
  • and you reply with 
  • “nah it’s nothing I just thought people would rather read my 17 fics instead. but thank you so much for sending this ask in”
  • jun reads it an d lmao guess what he says
  • “Oh if that’s the reason then just send those poems to me! I’d be more than happy to be your only audience ;-)”
  • and you’re at this point giggling and smiling to yourself because THIS ANON IS SO GREASY AND THEY’RE ONLY ON ANON but they’re also really cute so you reply with 
  • “sure but first reveal your username ;-)”
  • so he messages you with a “wassup i’m the ;-) anon”
  • and from then on blooms a beautiful beautiful mutual friendship thing
  • like it’s super cute because the both of you tag each other in 17 shit and other funny stuff and while jun always knows the 17 stuff beforehand (because, he’s well, part of seventeen), he always finds himself chuckling at the stuff you tag him in
  • not to forget you keep by your agreement and send him a bunch of your poems and stuff, and he’s always so happy and ! to read them
  • plus he’s always really excited to check the message you leave him, especially if svt had a really grueling schedule and he was dead tired and exhausted
  • and he finds himself being more drawn to your personality as y’all talked more and more??
  • you’re also under the impression that his name is wendy because when you first asked for his name he typed wen and then regretted it immediately so he did a Save and now he’s wendy
  • ok fast forward a few months
  • jun just had a comeback and he’s dead tired
  • you still don’t know he’s The Wen Junhui
  • (also he has a habit of referring to himself as The Handsome One)
  • (and Hot Boy 101)
  • (and Sizzling Shenzhen Babe)
  • the list goes on
  • but one day you message him and you’re kinda curious about how he looks like so you’re all like
  • “hey Muscle Man shouldn’t you at least show me your face once and let me see for myself how hot you actually are?”  
  • “sorry y/n i’m really tired now, another time maybe?”
  • but you don’t think he’s being serious so you say “lmao then what bout a skype call? you can just sleep and i’ll just stare at your face, we both win”
  • when jun reads your message he gets upset and disappointed because! he’d just gone through a day of shit from everyone
  • he had to deal with recording for an hour because woozi wasn’t pleased with his one line
  • and he had to suffer through hoshi’s relentless nagging and tiring choreography
  • and he thought maybe opening up tumblr would make him happier but instead he came on to see you asking for a pic and not even taking no for an answer???
  • so he’s just like 
  • you know what fuck it i’m just going to stop replying them
  • anyway it’s not like they can know i’m wen junhui
  • so boom
  • jun ignores you for a good whole week
  • but then !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
  • in that week you actually manage to get tickets for seventeen’s fansign !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
  • you’re so pumped and hyped because YOU FINALLY GET TO MEET JUN AND !!!
  • he’s the literal love of your life how can you not get really excited
  • except, you still feel kinda shit because wendy (jun) hasn’t replied you for ages
  • okay maybe it’s just a week but still
  • so before you go for the fansign you drop wendy (jun) a message telling him that you finally get to meet your idols and that you’re sad he can’t be with you :’)
  • and then right before he gets onto the fansign stage, jun reads the message
  • he panics for a while but manages to stay calm because lmao its not like they know i’m their online friend psh it’s all aight
  • but when he gets up there he sees a person sitting in a corner alone, with no fancy dslr but a small iphone camera, eagerly waiting for him to come out and 
  • he knows that’s you
  • you look so happy yet slightly :( and he can’t help but feel slightly guilty
  • so when it comes to your turn with jun,
  • you tell him how much you adore and love him (at this, jun blushes and eye smiles) but then you ask him for advice on how to apologise to a friend
  • and he goes from :-D to :-( real quick
  • because although that confirmed his suspicions about you being his amazing author memey mutual, he felt really really bad about making you feel shitty
  • so he’s like “wait let me show you a magic trick”
  • “take out your phone”
  • “you wanna apologise through text right?”
  • at this you nod your head fervently 
  • jun takes out his phone too
  • and he’s like “okay go to your chat, and on 1,2,3…”
  • a new message bubble pops up and 
  • “why use facetime when the real deal’s in front of you?” 
  • he shows you his phone screen with the exact same chat log as yours
  • and you’re just like !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAT !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
  • he smirks and puts a finger to his lips
  • “sh’’
  • when the fansign ends, you’re so certain that it’s all a dream that you check your phone again
  • at this point another message pops up 
  • it’s an selfie of jun at the fansign location with his finger poking a far off image of you in the background
  • “how’s this for a picture? get home safely ah my dear carat! ;-)”
  • and that’s when you realise your mutual’s name isn’t wendy, but wen jun hui

!!!!!!! finally done with 3/13 of this series! i’ll finish the rest and update the masterlist in my free time so please be patient!

requests are open!

love, jyn

(this image isn’t mine!! credit to whoever owns it, i couldn’t find the original xx)

Patching Things Up

Summary: Fighting with Peter is never fun, but when you take it a bit too far things get a little dicey. You end up having to try to fix your relationship (and a pretty beat up Peter) and find yourself discovering a little more about him than you expected

Warnings: Blood is mentioned but it’s nothing too bad :)

Pairing: Reader x Peter Parker

Genre: Angst + Fluff

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: WOAH my other writing thing got a bunch of notes for no reason omg I hope to keep posting and eventfully make a masterlist?? but yeah enjoy!


Peter was your close friend and you’d do absolutely anything for him, but man did he piss you off sometimes. You both were generally very easygoing and sweet people, but sometimes your opinions and viewpoints clashed dramatically. You argued about things ranging from what toppings to order on your pizza to who was the worst at math. Almost every argument you had was over silly stuff and you two made up instantly when you were finished. There was one exception though.

Spiderman. When you first found out about Peter’s secret you were stoked. It was an accident, of course. Ned let it slip one day when the two of you were talking and, against his wishes, you confronted Peter about it.

“I can’t believe you never told me!” you gushed excitedly. “There’s so many things I want to ask. Can you talk to actual spiders? Do webs come out of your butt? Spiders use poison to make their food mushy so they can eat it, is that what you do? I’ve never noticed.”

“How did you… Ned, are you serious?” Peter asked, his voice strained. “Y/N you weren’t supposed to find out. You have to swear not to tell anyone.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” you said with a wink. “It’s not like anyone would believe me anyway, but I’ll keep it to myself.”

“What, you don’t think Peter Parker can take on massive villains with crazy weapons and stuff?” he asked, looking mildly offended.

“Honestly? Not really,” you admitted. “No offense Pete, you’re just not that threatening or tough.” His eyes flashed and you knew this was going to be the beginning of something.

“Well that sucks because I don’t see you risking your life every single night fighting bad guys ten times your size,” he said angrily. “I get beat up really badly all the time but you should see the other guy. I like to think I’m somewhat good at what I do.” You stared at him for a second, your mind processing what he just said.

“Peter you have to stop,” you said suddenly. He paused, clearly taken aback.

“Y-you want me to stop? Stop being Spiderman?”

“Yes,” you hesitated. “It’s so dangerous, what would I do if something bad happened to you? God, I can’t believe this. What if you’d gotten killed? Please, you have to stop.” He took a step away from you, looking hurt.

“Y/N I have to do this,” he said. “If I don’t then so many more people are in danger. Don’t you get it? I can save people! I’ve already saved people. Isn’t that more important than whether or not I get some bruises once in a while? It’s so selfish of you to even say that!” His voice raised as he went, his emotions running wild. For as long as you’d known Peter he had never raised his voice like that at you. You could feel your heart pumping faster as you glared at him.

“If you keep being Spiderman we can’t be friends.” As soon as you said it you regretted it. The look on his face was like a punch to the gut. You hadn’t been friends for very long but you were still extremely close and you knew life without Peter would totally suck. It wasn’t an empty threat though. His safety was really important to you and you hated the idea of him setting off every night to go get knocked around.

“I won’t,” he said in a low voice. You blinked, feeling tears prick the corners of your eyes.

“Then I guess we’re not friends anymore.”

“I guess not.” He didn’t look away, his gaze defiant and strong. You suddenly understood where Spiderman’s bravery came from. You readjusted the backpack on your shoulder and turned away, walking away from him.

It has been a few weeks since the fight had gone down and neither of you had spoken since. You were ashamed of your behavior but were too stubborn to go back on your word. It wasn’t really fair of you to ask him to give it up entirely but he had to understand the gravity of the situation. You checked the news obsessively every night to see if there was any information about Spiderman. You followed update accounts on twitter and even downloaded news apps with live coverage just in case. Every time Peter missed a day at school you were filled with anxiety and fear that he wouldn’t ever come back. You used Ned as a resource to find out how Peter was doing. Ned, caught in the middle, would always desperately ask you to talk to him again. He claimed that Peter had gotten really closed off and irritable and was ignoring just about everyone. It hurt you, but you were determined to prove a point.

One night when you were about to hop in the shower after a particularly long day your phone started going off like crazy. All kinds of notifications were popping up about a huge scale accident by Coney Island that involved one of the Avenger’s planes. Spiderman had been seen there, and from the looks of it he must have gotten pretty badly injured. Panic seized your body as you thought of Peter lying helplessly in the wreckage. You tried to shake it off. He was probably fine, this was his decision anyway. You decided to ignore it for the time being and just shower.

You were in the middle of drying yourself off when you heard the doorbell ring. You froze, your imagination spewing out worst case scenarios. You were home alone and there was a very slim chance it was your parents. What if it was a murderer? It would totally suck to be killed naked. The doorbell rang again a second and third time though and at that point your curiosity got the best of you. Your pulled your towel tightly around you and went to check the front door. You looked through the peep hole and saw a familiar face.

Peter. You swung the door open and almost passed out at the sight before you. He looked as if he had been in a gang fight or something. His entire face was cut and scratched with dark purple spots around his eyes. His lip was bleeding as well as a spot on his cheek. He was wearing a hoodie but he hadn’t bothered to put different pants over the suit, and you could see it had been ripped a few times.

“Holy shit!” you exclaimed. “Peter, what happened? Never mind, tell me later. My god, sit down.” Your mind was reeling as you desperately tried to think of how to fix his wounds. Peter cleared his throat, disrupting your thoughts.

“Not to be creepy but can you put on clothes first? I’m hurt but I’m not dying and it’s kinda awkward…” His voice came out raspy but still carried the joking tone. Heat rushed to your face and you nodded, running back to your bathroom to quickly get your pajamas on. When you came back Peter was laying on the couch, his eyes closed. You sat down next to him gingerly and he looked up at you.

“Y/N… I’m sorry,” he said, his voice cracking. He sounded exhausted and defeated. “Y-you were right. Putting myself in harm’s way is stupid and I can’t always handle things on my own. I can’t do anything on my own, actually. I need you to talk to me again, I’m slowly going insane. I missed you so much and it was so much worse than any pain I’ve ever gone through in my whole life.” You swallowed hard, holding back tears. He looked so incredibly vulnerable and it broke your heart that what you had done upset him so much.

“Peter, listen…” you started but he cut you off.

“I-If you want I’ll even give up on Spiderman.” You paused for a second. He was really willing to give up such an important part of his life just to get you to talk to him again. You realized that being a hero was just who he was, and his selflessness made you feel really proud.

“I don’t want you to,” you said gently. “We need someone like you out there protecting us. I’m sorry I made you feel bad, I guess I’m not as good of a person as you are. I’m still gonna be upset when you get hurt like this but if it’s what you want to do then I shouldn’t be the one to stop you.” He grinned and his smile even reached his tired eyes. You missed seeing that smile and it lifted your spirits.

“I can deal with you being grumpy sometimes, it’s better than nothing. I had to listen to Ned talk about computer programming for like an hour yesterday and nobody came to my rescue. Maybe that can be your superpower?”

“Maybe,” you chuckled. “Now, do you want ice or something? You look terrible. Not that you don’t always look terrible, Parker.” He laughed, cringing at the pain shooting up his side. You looked at him nervously, unsure of how to help him.

“Ice sounds great actually,” he said. You nodded and rushed to the freezer to find an ice pack. You wrapped it in a thin towel so that it wouldn’t be super cold and brought it back to him. His face was drained of all color and there were beads of sweat all across his forehead.

“Pete, I think you might have a concussion,” you said as you eyed the bump on his head. “Your pupils are all dilated and you’re turning black and blue.”

“I’m fine,” he declared as he sat up, the look in his eyes showing he immediately regretted his decision. “Actually do you… I need to go throw up.” You helped him up and guided him to the bathroom. He insisted that he was good on his own and you waited anxiously outside the door, listening to him coughing and retching. You were a wreck. Your nursing skills were slim to none and you were basically useless in this situation. You did, however, have a driver’s license and you decided that you needed to take Peter to the hospital.

“Ok, I’m fine now,” he said as he emerged. He looked ghostly pale and generally ragged.

“Yeah, no,” you said. “I’m taking you to a doctor. I’ll call your aunt and let her know what’s going on, let’s go.”

“Y/N I don’t need a doctor,” he argued. “I feel great! I just want to stay here… Can I crash with you? Will your parents be mad?” You considered it for a moment. Your parents wouldn’t care, they’d known Peter for a while and trusted you enough to have him over. The thought of not having his head checked out made you a little nervous but when you looked at his pleading face you couldn’t say no.

“Fine, but you have to stay close to me in case something happens. I’ll find you a garbage can or something if you feel like you’re going to be sick again. Do you want a change of clothes? I have some of your shirts that you’ve left here.”

“That would be fantastic,” he said weakly. “I’m really sorry, this is all my fault.” He apologized about seven times in a row as you went to grab him a t-shirt.

“Peter, you know I love it when I’m right but if you could please shut up for like a minute that would be great.” You handed him the shirt and he just stared up at you. You raised your eyebrows and he smiled awkwardly.

“I’m wearing the suit under this and I don’t have other pants,” he told you. You rolled your eyes and he laughed despite the pain.

“You have boxers right? I’m not in middle school, I can handle it. Besides, it can’t be any more embarrassing than the skin-tight suit.”

“What’s wrong with the suit?” he asked defensively. You shook your head, not ready to start another argument with him. He carefully pulled off the hoodie and you gasped. There was blood all over the front of the suit that had been hidden from your sight by the sweatshirt.

“I’m good!” he exclaimed, trying to remind you. He pushed the button on the front of his suit and it fell down in a heap on the floor. You got a good look at his chest which was a lot more muscular than you would have thought. There was a big gash going down from his rib cage to his lower stomach that thankfully seemed to have stopped bleeding.

“Hey,” he said. “My eyes are up here.” You felt your face flush and he giggled.

“Oh shut up,” you laughed. “Since when do you have abs? I thought you were a nerd?”

“W-what? Oh uh I guess I just got fit from… fighting crime and stuff,” he stammered. He yanked the shirt over his head, all the carefulness from earlier abandoned. The two of you usually didn’t flirt or feel any weird tension, but suddenly the air felt stifling. He gazed over at you, clearly feeling the awkward mood settling as well.

“Hey, you know maybe I should go and…” you started to say, trailing off as Peter stepped closer to you cautiously. Your heart was beating so loud you were sure that he could hear it too. He looked as nervous as you felt, but the distance between you was closing rapidly. Soon enough he was right in front of you, his eyes fixed on your mouth. You knew what was going on, you just wouldn’t have ever guessed Peter would initiate it like this. His lips dangerously close to yours, he paused.

“Is this ok?” he murmured. You nodded slowly and he went for it. There was the faint taste of copper from the blood on his bottom lip, but that didn’t bother you. You pulled away first, your mind racing. What did this mean for you? Were you friends still or something else?

“Peter, I-” you said softly, but he beat you to it.

“I-I don’t know why I did that,” he said. “I just… I was thinking about what would happen if we weren’t friends and it messed me up inside, you know? After the first day of you ignoring me I knew that I liked you, like a lot. I don’t know if you feel the same way, I shouldn’t have made it weird…”

“I do feel the same way,” you said, surprising even yourself. “Let’s not fight like that again. You’re way too important to me.” You pulled his arm gently and the two of you sat down on the couch together. You were quiet for a moment before you looked over at him.

“Does this mean I’m dating a superhero?” you whispered.

“If you’re cool with it, yeah.”

“Once you feel better will take me on a date and show me how the web thing works?” He rested his head on your shoulder and thought for a moment.

“I think I might feel better tomorrow evening, maybe around 7?”

“You know where to find me, Spiderman.”

Coworkers Pt.3

part 1

part 2 


Warnings:All of them /General depravity/ I swear I wrote this in a fever dream/Ivar is a psychopath with no rhyme or reason to his Tom foolery 

Kind of a crack fic, inspired by Ted bundy.

Your stomach dropped with the realization. He pulled his head back and met your eyes. His face was twisted in anguish and for a brief moment, your heart wrenched in sympathy for him, but your sympathy quickly gave way to anger. Who the fuck was he to tell you how to live your life? 

If this was about jealousy, he had had several opportunities to make a move. In fact there had been times in the beginning of your friendship where you had wanting nothing more than for him to do exactly that, put he never did. You had slept in the same bed a handful of times and despite your less than subtle cues, he hadn’t once made a move. Besides that, Ivar wasn’t exactly​ hard up for women, his condition didn’t hinder him in that department. He was devilishly attractive and women practically fell over each other fighting for his attention. He was seeing not one, but several women actually. At one point you had been jealous, but that was before your friendship had deepened and you had stopped seeing him that way. Sure, he would tease and flirt a bit, but it was all in good fun, his lack of action had made you believe he didn’t see you as anymore than a friend and you were okay with that. You were happy being his friend. He was one of the good one’s, or so you had thought.

You couldn’t believe that this was what this was all about.

When you had told Ivar that you had asked your ex to be your date to your sister’s wedding, he had gotten a little overly preachy and went into what you had thought at the time was ‘little big brother mode’. He didn’t understand and had downright scolded you for ‘stooping so low’ as to give that asshole the time of day, let alone have him accompany you to a wedding. “What about his new girlfriend?” Ivar had scoffed. “Why would you put yourself through this, y/n?” “Take me instead, so I can punch the mother fucker in the face for you.” “Don’t worry about the plane ticket, I will gladly drive to Ohio and fuck him right up.”

You had laughed and thanked him for his concern and subsequent offer, but explained that all that wouldn’t be necessary. Your ex had apologized and you didn’t like holding grudges. You lied to Ivar, telling him that you had moved on and that seeing your ex wouldn’t bother you. He wasn’t seeing that girl anymore and inviting him was more for your family and keeping up appearances, as you had known him since childhood and he was still close with your parents. Ivar hadn’t been satisfied with that as he had brought it up several times over the next few weeks and made two more offers to accompany you. His preoccupation with the arrangement had bordered on being a little irritating, but he was sometimes like that. You just waved it off. It was in his nature, he was a nice guy, but could be super excitable.

Once Ivar got his head set on something, he was relentless in his pursuit to convince you to do whatever it was that he wanted you to do. If he wanted you to listen to some new artist’s album that he had discovered, he would ask you about it several times a day until you finally downloaded the damn thing on iTunes just to shut him up. If he wanted to see a midnight showing of a movie on a work night, he wouldn’t take no for an answer, swinging by your building after you’d already declined. He would park his Nissan on the street below your studio and lay on the horn, ringing up your cell when you didn’t come to the window, he would guilt you out to his car with promises of quad shot espressos and danishes on him the next morning. He would call you a loser and a party pooper, wearing you down until you caved.

The breakup with your ex had been hard, but ultimately amicable. You two had tried to do the long distance thing, but after a couple of months he had just stopped calling or returning your texts. You had been heartbroken, he was your highschool sweetheart, your first and only relationship. You had called and messaged him incessantly for weeks to no avail. You had to take sick days from work because some nights you lost sleep and just couldn’t pull yourself out of bed the next morning. It was during this time that you and Ivar had gotten close. You’d had no one to take your mind off of your misery and after being absent from work for three days, Ivar had come by to check on you. You hadn’t spent time with him outside of work before then, but he knew where you lived, having picked you up to ride with him when your car was in the shop.

He had buzzed up to your apartment and insisted that you let him up. You tried to shoo him away. Your place was a mess, you hadn’t had a shower in days and you didn’t want anybody seeing you in such a state, but as would become the usual, he had worn you down with humor and Starbucks. “I don’t care if you stink, y/n, I sit right next to you, It will not be a surprise.” he had teased over the intercom. “I have lattes and they are getting cold.”“Is this about what’s-his-fuck face? Andy?” “What did I tell you the other day?” “Do you need some sexual healing, is that it?” “Because that can be arranged.” “That was a joke, don’t email HR okay?” “Come on, y/n.” “ Are you really going to leave a cripple out in the cold? I’m freezing my ass off down here y/n.” “ I made my crippled ass up these frozen steps on crutches and didn’t even spill your coffee or crack my head open, I basically just performed a miracle for you.” “ Come on, y/n, my hands are going numb.” he had whined . On and on he went until you had finally buzzed him up just to shut him the hell up. Caving was the only way to quiet him once he got started.

A few days prior, you had been at work stalking your ex’s facebook page on the company computer, when you found out he had started seeing somebody else and just hadn’t bothered to tell you about it. You were so devastated and pissed off that you broke down ugly crying right there in your cubicle.

People had started whispering and peeking their heads up over their desks to watch your meltdown. You were really making a scene, it wasn’t like you and you were mortified but you hadn’t been able to hold your emotions back. Rolling himself around into your cubicle, Ivar scooted his chair up next to yours. Taking your hand, he had asked if you needed water and suggested that maybe you should come outside with him and get some fresh air. He spoke so softly, his voice immediately soothing you. “Do you want to come outside with me and smoke a cigarette, maybe that will help?” he had asked when you didn’t respond.

You had sniffled and nodded. Wiping your tears away with the sleeve of your cardigan, you had stood and followed him outside. He smiled at you reassuringly as he wheeled past the surrounding cubicles and used the wall as leverage, pushing against it with his arm every few feet, vaulting the office chair backwards towards the door. You had wondered why he didn’t use a wheelchair, but figured he got along just fine without one. “Hey hey, eyes on your monitors, you bunch of clucking hens.” he had pointed his finger at and scolded your other coworkers. “Nothing to see here, just a cripple and a crybaby going out to smoke on company time.” “Send out a memo or something if you don’t like it.” He had you smiling and your tears drying up before you even made it outside.

You had cherished his friendship and after all he had helped you through, the times you had been a shoulder for him to cry on, and there had been those times…this was what is all surmounted to? Was it all a ruse from the very beginning? It still didn’t make sense. You never turned him down, you never did anything hurt him in a way for him to react this way.

You had to say something, you didn’t care about this threats at that moment. You felt like you were damned either way. You had to try and reason with him, get to the bottom of this and find out what had sparked this kind of Jekyll and Hyde bullshit. Taking a deep breath, you look him squarely in the eyes.

“Please, Ivar…can I say one thi-” you began, but your words were swiftly silenced when he moved to cover your mouth with his hand. His face flashed from anguish to anger, he brought the knife up to your cheek and shook his head at you in disappointment.

“What did I say, y/n? Hmm? Not a fucking word, not one. Remember?” he hissed, punctuating his words by tapping the cool blade against your skin.

Well that went well, you thought to yourself. Fuck. You started to have trouble breathing. With his hand clamped so tightly over your mouth, you tried to take in a breath through your nose but it was all stuffed up from crying. Struggling and pleading with him using your eyes, he finally spread his fingers just enough to make space for you to draw in some air before continuing “That…was your one fuck up, y/n.”

With that, he withdrew his hand and he rolled off of you. Propping himself up on an elbow, he lay down beside you, his blade traveling down to your exposed midriff, he leisurely let the knife hang from his fingertips, drawing circles and making the tip dance lightly across the soft skin of your belly, smiling again now, his eyes appraised your body hungrily. You could hardly suppress the urge to shudder. Or was shiver a better word? If this had been happening under different circumstances you may be enjoying it. You squeezed your eyes shut and gulped, trying to swallow the treacherous thoughts that were forming. You felt him slide a hand into your hair, he fingered at the loose waves for a moment, before gathering a fistful and gently yanking your head to the side. “Look at me, y/n.” he growled. You felt your limbs go numb, you suddenly felt like you were out of body. You had no energy left to make sense of any of this because there was no making sense of it. He was deranged, obviously. Opening your eyes, you stare blankly past him, tears running down your cheeks, sniffing and hiccuping, trying to pull yourself together and breath evenly. He snapped his fingers and forcefully grabbed a hold of your chin, tilting you head up to meet his eyes.

He held your face and glared down at you with a mix of lust and hate swimming in his eyes. There was maybe a touch of guilt, a flicker or sorrow in there somewhere, but it didn’t matter. So what if he felt bad? Good. You thought to yourself. It wasn’t going to make you feel any better about what was happening. You hoped that he did feel tortured. You hoped that the monster that surely lived inside of your friend ate him alive from the inside out. You wished with all you might that when he was finished with you, if he didn’t use that blade on himself and follow you out of this world, that his demons consumed him and that he would spend the rest of his days dying inside. Slowly.

“I am going to touch you. You will not protest. You will not speak. However, I must insist that you let me know in someway, how much you are enjoying it. And you will enjoy it. Because If you don’t, I can always just cut your pretty skin up. I don’t think you would enjoy that very much, but make no mistake, I would get just as much satisfaction from that as I would from slipping my cock inside of you. So, y/n, you decide how you want to play,because I have no preferences." 

Your head started to swim and you felt as though you might pass out. As he spoke, his dark eyes locked into yours and his voice was commanding you more than his words were. It didn’t matter what he was saying, you were going to listen and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his if you tried.

"Do you want to play a nice game, y/n?” he smiled sweetly as he gazed down at you through his dark lashes. “Nod your head.” he directed. You slowly nod your head in compliance and he smiled wider, the corners of his eyes crinkled and for a fleeting moment you saw your Ivar. You felt a warmth pool deep in your stomach, but then he patted you on the head like one would pat a dog or a toddler, and the feeling was gone as fast as it had appeared.

He  grabbed a hold of your t-shirt, pulling the fabric taught, he sliced up the center of the garment, you weren’t wearing a bra and your nipples instantly pebble and harden from the cool air. Ivar groaned. Holding the blade to your neck with one hand, with the other he began to knead at your breast, he pinched and rolled your nipple between his fingertips, the leather of his gloves felt divine. You did feel aroused, but more so, you just felt ashamed. With his eyes half lidded and his face slack jawed, he watched your face intently as he moved his hand to your other breast, cupping it in his hand and stroking his thumb back and forth over it’s peak. You kept your eyes locked on his as he had instructed. His eyes flickered from your naked chest to your face and back again. Continuing his fondling, he sighed and narrowed his eyes at you, he pinched your nipple hard and slapped your breast before taking it in his hand again and gently kneading. You let out a whimper. It wasn’t to appease him. You could feel your walls clenching, you didn’t know when you had gotten so wet, but you could feel it seeping down and coating your inner thighs. God, you fucking hated him.

“Good girl, I was beginning to think I was going to have to remind you to enjoy this.” he rasped, scooting his body closer into yours and pressing his hardness into your leg. He groaned and moved his hips against you. Keeping eye contact still, he bunched up the waist of your leggings in his hand and pulled them down to your knees with one yank. His eyes  breaking contact only briefly to glance down at your legs. 

“Kick them off.” he demanded. You had no choice but to comply. Doing your best, you kick your legs a bit to shimmy them down and then use your feet to push them over your ankles and completely off. He hummed a little sound of praise. 

“Good girl.“ he breathed. Pulling his glove off with his teeth, he moved his hand down your body and started to pull your underwear down. The knife had never left your throat and he struggled to pull them over your hips without the use of both hands. 

"Lift you ass up.” he barked in frustration.

You didn’t hesitate, lifting your hips up off the floor so he could pull your panties down to your mid thigh.

“Now raise your knees.” he ordered, enunciating each word and speaking slowly like you were some dim witt. He was starting to become irritated and you didn’t know why. You were doing everything that he told you to do.

 You did as he said and he swiflty pulled your underwear the rest of the way off. After tossing them to the side, he seemed to calm down a bit. He slid his hand down your body, lazily caressing your stomach and running a warm palm over the tops of your legs. He still hadn’t broken eye contact. He kneaded and stroked your inner thighs before slipping his hand in between them. Feeling how wet you were, his eyes grew darker, if that was even possible. His mouth fell open and he moaned low in his throat. He moved in closer and started kissing and suckling at your neck. Without warning he pushed two fingers inside of you. 

Ivar was really panting now. Biting at your neck, he started to alternate between pumping his fingers in and out, rubbing your clit, and slapping his hand against your sex. You were disgusted with yourself but you couldn’t prevent the sounds of pleasure from escaping past your lips. It was what he wanted to hear anyways, you tried to reassure yourself. You didn’t want him to stop playing nice, he was too good at it. It felt too good. You didn’t want to play another game.

He quickly brought you to orgasm, you came so hard that your hips jerked up off the rug and the muscles in your thighs spasmed and clenched around his wrist like a vice. You were mortified by your keening and the sounds of pleasure that were so easily spilling from your mouth. It was so intense, the after shocks had you twitching and flopping about like a damn fish. It was like that time in college when you got tazed protested for Occupy Wallstreet. You had no control of your limbs what so ever. 

As you came down, Ivar wiped the sweaty strands of hair off of your forehead and smiled down at you smugly. 

“Oh you are good at this, y/n. You are doing so well.” he breathed, planted a soft kiss to your forehead first and then to your lips. You didn’t pull away but you certainly didn’t return the kiss. Still holding the blade to your neck, how he didn’t accidentally cut you when you were shamelessly writhing about, you didn’t know, he rolled onto his back next to you. You turned your head to look at him and he was staring up at the ceiling, mouth wide, grinning like a damned fool. 

Propping him self back up, he rested his head in his palm and just stared at you with that stupid self satisfied grin on his face for a while longer. You wanted to punch his face in and kiss him at the same time. You didn’t know who you hated more, him or yourself.

“That was fun y/n … but now I am bored.” he exclaimed. 

Using the knife to move you hair off of your shoulder, he pressed the tip to your collar bone and cut you deep enough just to draw blood. You held his gaze the entire time, barely flinching.

 Leaning in closer, he bent and pressed his lips to the wound, his tongue darting out to lap and taste the warm metallic liquid and you felt his cock twitch in his jeans. His lips were stained with your blood as he kissed up your neck. Making his way up to your ear he pressed his lips to the shell and whispered. “Now, y/n, let’s play a new game. I think you will like this one.” 




@rocky rascal








anonymous asked:

Hi! I plan to make a rpg maker game and I'm so excited to begin! but do you have any tips on organizing my docs?

I’m not the best organizer, but here’s my tips:

  • Try to have one folder to put everything in.  That way, you can just back up a whole folder instead of multiple ones.
  • Label everything.  Make sure the label makes sense.  …you don’t want to come back to your documents a week later and then have to figure out whether “nohomo Romo 2016″, “romcom descrutction”, or “ffsdkjflah” is the main script.  ;w;
  • Unless the game is a short game, I wouldn’t keep the game’s script all on one document.  I’d split it into parts based on level, world, chapter, act, map, etc.. Whatever’s applicable to your game. 
  • If I’m not directly programming flavor text in, I like to put that on a separate document than the main story text.  
  • All my worldbuilding goes into one folder.  For example, any information on monsters, places, or NPCs I’ve written out goes in it’s own folder.
  • I use a word processor to write my script (abiword - it’s free) and Microsoft Onenote (it’s also free) to organize my programming & some of my worldbuilding notes. Onenote has a bunch of fun things you can do with it, like make check list and have a bunch of tabs for stuff.  You can also share it with anyone who has a microsoft account. 
  • There’s plenty of free programs out there that help you organize and take notes of things.  You don’t have to use any of them, but it’s nice to know your options!
  • Google Docs is great if you’re writing your script as a team or sharing your stuff with multiple people.  However, if you don’t want to stop working on your game when your computer’s offline, it’s a good idea to download that document to your own computer every once in a while by going to File -> Downloads -> Then clicking on the format you want to use.  You can then pick it back up with Microsoft Word or whatever other document thing you like to use.
  • To-do list are really handy, esp if you’re doing bug test and you’re taking notes on what needs to be fixed.  These can be either physical or digital, doesn’t matter, as long as you know where they are.

Here’s an outline of an organization system for a fake game.  Anything in bold is it’s own folder.

This imaginary game folder is for a game around 2 hours long with an RPG Battle system, puzzles, and an actual story.  So say if you’re designing a small game like Wither, Melon Journey, or Very Pink Game with maybe 12 pages of dialogue, you won’t need all this.

The idea is that you should separate your documents by “Words going into the game” (the game’s written script) & “Words not going into your game” (game design, planning, & world building). 

And here’s some examples of to-do list since they’re pretty helpful, but you don’t have to do ‘em yourself.

This one was made with Microsoft OneNote:

The same effect can be accomplished with just notepad like so:

Easy peasy.  Hope this helps! c:

And hey, if any of my followers want to give tips/examples, feel free to chime in!

Anonymous Asks Answered

Part 1

All answers under the Read More!  This is gonna be in 2 parts since I did get quite a few.  A few of these have been answered separately on their own.  If you missed them, just search the tag “asks” or “replies” on this blog and you should be able to find them.  

If you’re viewing this on the app, you won’t be able to read under the Read More apparently, so please view it in Desktop mode on your phone browser.

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TRUST || Mafia!Junhui [Chp 4]

BLURB: Nothing is ever what it seems.

GENRE: au!mafia, action, mystery, romance

WORDS: 2166

PART: Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

A/N: Dropping this today because of some really sweet anons <3

Your eyes widened at the sight of him. What was he doing here?!

He seemed to be asking you the same question, his brows furrowed in confusion and… What was that? Anger?

“Y/N?” The group of researchers you’d been walking with turned back to look at you. You didn’t realize you had stopped walking. “Are you coming?”

“Oh, yeah!” You quickly walked over. “I… I just thought I didn’t turn of the stove before I got here.”

Head researcher Kim Donghyuk grinned at you. “Well did you?”

“I really can’t remember,” you stalled, trying to keep attention on you. “I really hope the place doesn’t burn down.”

“If it does you can always get your uncle to buy you a new one,” he chuckled. You faked a smile. Right. As if you wanted to owe your uncle any favours.

They started walking again and in a few minutes they would walk smack into the intruders and the three boys would all be dead. You panicked. But when you looked back there was no trace of them.

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Indigo Children and their Plane of Existence

You are Beautiful… no exceptions, Mental!!

If you came across this post, your spirit guided you here to get a bit of information about yourself to help your remembrance. What are these people? Well you are probably one of them if you were guided to find additional information. I know tumblr is almost my mental’s default search engine, haha! Let me have some disclosures and claims on myself to credit myself….. a little, haha, before I give your soul the remembrance of the absolute truth.

If you look at my blog, I do not post about this kind of thing. This particular tumblr account is my main account and my nice passionate aesthetic account, thus the one with the most followers. I am a woman in her teenage years, here for a bunch of purposes, but to put it simple, to help this planet and plane of existence; as you probably are, being an Indigo. I do have another blog, @awokenspiritx but there is no personal posting, I have a legit blog for myself and experiences and information. This information however is not mine to give, as I will encourage the purchase of where I got this information later on.

More ethos in the paragraph below, skip this one if you just want to REMEMBER!!!

What would be easiest is to take pictures of where I read this information, but that would not be productive for there is much much more information on a plethora of Truthful topics in the book with Indigo Children. Here is my ethos on why I am also not just recommending any other book.
This book is channeled information of All There Is, Was, and Ever Shall Be, through Elliot Jackson. I stumbled upon Elliot and his wife while signing up for a reiki class at a metaphysical shop. Naturally I was guided to a personal session, where Source/God/Us comes through Elliot, and YES, you can ask anything. Now I frequently have sessions with Source for Elliot lives in the chicagoland area with me, but they travel all over the world. Most immediately my sessions are via skype. All this additional information I can give if requested, now I speak of Indigos.
Elliot was speaking to me and Source told me and my dad’s girlfriend we were Indigos before we even had a session. I was intrigued. Their 2nd book of the Sapiential Discourses is their information about Indigo Children and the Macctrian plane (as well as a number of other planes) are introduced and explained. This is the information I will share from now.

Indigo Children are certain souls born after the year 1975. There were few before then. We were sent here to help change this plane of existence, due to the rapid decline of motivations of teachers on Earth. In one sense we are teachers, even if you never speak to children or speak of Indigos. Teachers to raise the mass consciousness, to put our planet back in a state we once were. This next bit might resonate with a lot of you, for us Indigos are always misunderstood, in one way or another. Many times we are classified with depression,(intuitively due to our spirit’s sadness of the condition of the planet) ADD/ADHD, and other mood disorders, or even just highly emotional. We are in all actuality very sensitive to the disorder of the planet. We are naturally intuitive being. We are here to change Earth. We come here to encourage others to stop making lower vibrational decisions. We LOVE nature deep down in our soul. We are most likely empaths.

The Macctrian Plane of Existence
I encourage you reading this to purchase this book to receive detailed information, but I would be disappointed too being fish tailed not knowing about this other plane of existence.(There are 777)
“You should know that all souls/spirits have been on many planes of existence before. The spirits or souls who are Indigos come to the plane that holds your Earth from the Macctrian plane. … The plane we are speaking to you about now is designed to maintain high vibration at all times. This was of course designed by you (actually your spirits) and us… . Now becase these Macctrian spirits have previously been subjected to meditative utopia, when and if they reemerge on your plane, due to some nonacceptance, their physical beings will be or appear to be much calmer on your plane.”
More detailed information including the climate of this plane is included in the book.

What Indigos Need That Would be Very High Vibrational In Their Remembrance
-meditation every day for at least 30 minutes (eyes open, deep breathing, like the macctrians)
-essential oils
-if you have an omega-3 deficiency, add those to your supplemental intake
-eliminating most artificial food coloring/flavors/preservatives
-zinc intake

I am confident your spirit downloads this information and remembers with great pride and Love, because It Is!! Elliot Jackson is the channel from whom this information was received, however there are many channels on Earth. I can and will add more information upon request. Much Love and Light to all of you, you are so beautiful. 🌷💗

Level Up (Thor/Avengers x reader)

Request: Thor x reader where you’re a mutant with mentifery and when Thor comes to you about pokemon go you use your powers to make them real and you and him are dating please.

On what was supposed to be a much-needed day of respite and relaxation at the compound, the team had gone from a pile of lazy superheroes gathered around a movie marathon and into a full-blown competition over a game that Tony had downloaded into all of their phones when he himself had become addicted to the newest craze.

“Over there!” Steve hollered out, jumping easily over the couch in one swift motion to land behind Natasha.  Not one to be outdone, she launched herself onto his back and grabbed his neck, twisting him firmly until he dropped to the ground so that she could take his catch.

“Got it!” she squealed in delight.  “This Squirtle is just the cutest thing I’ve ever seen!”

“Cheater,” Steve groaned, pushing himself up, shaking his head at the dizzy sensation that her attack had left behind, “that was mine.”

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this body is yours and mine | shawn mendes


requested by anonymous

word count: 1,824

author’s note: this was written in one quick sitting, but i figured you guys might want this now after shawn’s ama loss. I’m still proud of him anyway, and i hope you are too! so here’s him being cute and nervous while meeting your family. title is from “mess is mine” by vance joy. enjoy!

Your name: submit What is this?

“You’re shaking,” you inform Shawn, placing a hand on his chest to steady him. You’re surprised by his heartbeat practically jumping into your palm, like it is trying to escape him entirely.

“‘M just nervous,” he mumbles back. His cheeks turn pink and he grabs hold of your hand, pulling it away from his chest to lace your fingers in his.

You bite back a smile. It would not be fair to laugh at him now, especially since he didn’t laugh at your nerves a month earlier when your roles were reversed.

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whyidontlikeyou  asked:

Hey I was wondering if you could tell me how you make your GIFs and how you edit them with colour and the likes because yours look amazing

Oh, well, thank you. :D

I typically end up using someone else’s PSD because I usually end up thinking mine looks like shit. However, I actually used my own PSD for my last gifset.

Making a more colorful gifset is easier for me than doing a dark/saturated gifset. I’m still learning how to make a good dark/saturated PSD.

Anyway, I’ll just teach you how I made my last gifset. Keep in mind this is my first time explaining how I make my gifs, so I aplogize in advance if something doesn’t make sense. Don’t be afraid to ask me any questions you may have.

You’ll need:

  • Photoshop (I used CS5)
  • KMPlayer

I’m gonna teach you how to go from this:

to this:

**Warning: There’s a lot of screencaps.**

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Part Two; Riley + Zay bond during the triangle ft. Jealous Lucas

Part One

Sorry this took so long, normally I post part two the same day but I didn’t have an immediate idea of how to continue so thank you to the anon that suggested a Lucas / Maya chat! Also I tried to write this in third person like part one but I just couldn’t make it work in my mind without making it Lucas’ POV so I hope that’s okay!!

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

After my chat with Zay I feel better about my insecurities regarding Riley’s feelings towards me. Riley, I made Riley cry.

Riley Matthews, a ray of sunshine, my sunshine and I made her cry. Not only did I make her cry but I’ve been oblivious to the emotional pain I’ve been causing her the past few months.

The whole reason this triangle has gone on so long - other than my ‘confused’ feelings for both girls - is because I didn’t want to hurt either of them. Well that blew up in my face didn’t it?

I’m not sure how and I don’t care how long it takes but I am going to make it up to Riley. Zay and I leave Mr. Matthews classroom in search of Riley, class isn’t set to start for another fifteen minutes so we quickly search the halls for her. We spot Farkle outside the girls bathroom door and quickly approach.

“Is she in there?” I ask concerned.

“Yes,” Farkle snaps at me, “She’s locked herself in the stall and wont come out.”

“I’m going in there,” I insist but both Farkle and Zay try to stop me.

“You can’t go in there man, it’s the girls bathroom,” Zay holds his arm against my chest.

“I don’t care I have to apologise,” I push it away.

“Then I’m coming too,” Zay nods, “I owe Riley and apology as well.”

Farkle lets out a groan but follows close behind us.

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Tutorial Time!

This is something I’ve been wanting to do for a while. An exchange on the MTS forums kicked me into gear, so…Here it is.

As you may or may not be aware, I have a habit of screwing around with the autonomy and motive advertising attached to objects, Maxis and otherwise. I could share everything I do, but ultimately preferences in regards to this sort of thing are highly individual, so you’re really best off doing this sort of thing yourself, to suit your own playing preferences and likes/dislikes and all that. To that end, I figured that I would write up a tutorial that people could use to set things up as they want, fixing/adjusting things that personally annoy them.

This is for TS2 only, and SimPE is required. But don’t worry. This is actually an easy thing to do, and I’ve been pretty detailed so as to make this accessible to anyone who can install SimPE. (Sorry, Mac users, but maybe you can con a Windows-using friend into doing it for you. :) ) You don’t have to mess with meshes or textures or BCONs/BHAVs or anything scary like that. All you have to do is check (or uncheck) some checkboxes and fiddle around with some numbers. In the case of Maxis objects, the hardest part – and it’s really not very hard – is getting access to the numbers you need to fiddle with.

Before you begin, know that if you are adding/adjusting advertising for an item, it will require some testing and further fiddling with numbers until you get the levels where you want them to be. This will mean repeatedly going in and out of the game, unless you get it exactly right the first time. So, you’re best off doing this process in a no-CC environment, either via AnyGame Starter or by temporarily removing your Downloads folder or by setting up a separate user account on your computer with a no-CC setup in that user account’s Documents folder. That way, your game will load quickly and you’ll not be frustrated by load times during your testing process. So…Off we go…

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What should I do about Youtube?

My Google Youtube rep contacted me the other day. They were nice and took time to explain everything clearly to me, but the message was firm: I have to decide. I need to sign on to the new Youtube music services agreement or I will have my Youtube channel blocked.

This new music service agreement covers my Content ID account and it includes mandatory participation in Youtube’s new subscription streaming service, called Music Key, along with all that participation entails. Here are some of the terms I have problems with:

1) All of my catalog must be included in both the free and premium music service. Even if I don’t deliver all my music, because I’m a music partner, anything that a 3rd party uploads with my info in the description will be automatically included in the music service too.

2) All songs will be set to “montetize”, meaning there will be ads on them.

3) I will be required to release new music on Youtube at the same time I release it anywhere else. So no more releasing to my core fans first on Bandcamp and then on iTunes.

4) All my catalog must be uploaded at high resolution, according to Google’s standard which is currently 320 kbps.

5) The contract lasts for 5 years.

I can’t think of another streaming service that makes such demands. And if I don’t sign? My Youtube channel will be blocked and I will no longer be able to monetize (how I hate that word) 3rd party videos through Content ID.

I told the rep I’m happy with Content ID as it is. Can’t I just continue to participate in Content ID and not be a part of Music Key?

No. The rep said they can’t have music in the free version that is not in the paid version, it would be bad for their users. All music content has to be licensed under this new agreement.

How many 3rd party videos are there? As of today there are 9,696 videos and last month those videos had 250,000 (*1) monthly views. The Content ID robot sucks up more videos every day.

I got started with Content ID a couple of years ago when someone from Youtube reached out to me and I was offered a content management account to “claim” the soundtracks of these videos. The videos are dance performances, documentaries, amateur films, slideshows, animations, art projects, soundtracks to people doing things like skiing, miming, calligraphy or just playing video games. I love the variety of them all. Who knew there could be so many different ways to dance to my music? The video with the most views (1 million) is a demo reel by the Game of Thrones post production team.

In the majority of these videos the creator was really supposed to obtain a sync license from me but I think a lot of people don’t know. It’s daunting and cumbersome and confusing when all you want to do is add music to slides of your art portfolio. I have a licensing agent who handles the big stuff but there is not enough money in these usages for him and I wouldn’t have time to manage all the requests. Content ID feels like an awkward work around (the language the video uploaders see can be very alarming to them), but it solves a problem.

Here’s how it works: I upload my music and the Content ID robot identifies matches. I never block anyone’s videos or stop them from using the music except for special cases, like videos from hate groups or unauthorized product advertisements. Once Content ID finds a video with my music in it I can decide if I want to just track the video, or “monetize” it, i.e. put Dorito ads on it. That doesn’t always seem appropriate but if I do decide to monetize a video, or if the uploader already had ads on it, Google gives the majority of the ad revenue to them and about a third to me for the soundtrack. It really doesn’t pay very much but it does put “Zoe Keating” and a song title in the description of every video…in other words, credit.

One thing I don’t have on Youtube is music videos I’ve made myself. I don’t have a good explanation for why I’ve never made a music video but as I started work on my new album in 2013 I made a few quick videos about my life for my fans, meaning to make that a regular occurrence. I also thought I’d make a couple music videos to go with the new album.

But then my life changed. My husband Jeff was mysteriously and increasingly ill until in May 2014, he was diagnosed with stage IV non-smokers lung cancer. For most of last year I cared for him and our son and was unable to work much, let alone tour. Making videos was the last thing on my mind. When Jeff’s health stabilized in the fall I started working as a TV composer (for a show called “The Returned”, it airs on A&E on March 9). Working on the show has offered a much-needed creative outlet, steady pay and allowed me to stay close to home (his health is still fragile and we’re living in the moment but I am going to try to get that album out this year).

Anyway, a year ago my Youtube rep let me know there was a new music service coming and she sent along a new agreement. I read it and raised my concerns and asked if I could return the contract with those particular terms struck out. Alas no but the product folks seemed genuinely curious about my concerns and I had a phone meeting with them. The meeting was similar to one I had with DA Wallach of Spotify a couple years ago. Similar in that I got the sense that no matter how I explained my hands-on fan-supported anti-corporate niche thing, I was an alien to them. I don’t think they understood me at all.

The catalog commitment is the biggest issue for me. All these years I’ve yet to participate fully in any streaming service although I’ve chosen to give a handful of recordings to a few of them. If anyone wants more and they balk at paying for it, they can always stream all my music for free on Bandcamp(*2) or Soundcloud or they can torrent it (I uploaded my music to Pirate Bay myself many years ago). I’ve heard all the arguments about why artists should make all their music available for streaming in every possible service. I also know the ecosystem of music delivery made a shift away from downloading last year. Streaming is no longer advertising for something else, it is the end product. It’s convenient. Convenience is king. Yup, got all that, thanks.

This is the important part: it is my decision to make.

Is such control too much for an artist to ask for in 2015? It’s one thing for individuals to upload all my music for free listening (it doesn’t bother me). It’s another thing entirely for a major corporation to force me to. I was encouraged to participate and now, after I’m invested, I’m being pressured into something I don’t want to do.

I re-evaluate and change my mind all the time and I might decide to put everything everywhere at some point. But I want to decide what to do when. That is a major reason why I decided in 2005 to self-publish rather than chase after a record deal. I am independent because I didn’t want a bunch of men in suits deciding how I should release my music (*3). For 10 years I have managed to bushwhack a circuitous path around them but now I’ve got to find a away around the men in hoodies and crocs (I’m sorry, that was low, but that story was so funny).

The Youtube music service was introduced to me as a win win and they don’t understand why I don’t see it that way. “We are trying to create a new revenue stream on top of the platform that exists today.” A lot of people in the music industry talk about Google as evil. I don’t think they are evil. I think they, like other tech companies, are just idealistic in a way that works best for them. I think this because I used to be one of them (*4). The people who work at Google, Facebook, etc can’t imagine how everything they make is not, like, totally awesome. If it’s not awesome for you it’s because you just don’t understand it yet and you’ll come around. They can’t imagine scenarios outside their reality and that is how they inadvertently unleash things like the algorithmic cruelty of Facebook’s yearly review (which showed me a picture I had posted after a doctor told me my husband had 6-8 weeks to live).

I’ve been invited to play at Google twice. I went to the World Economic Forum in Davos last year and bumped into Eric Schmidt (not a croc-wearer) in the crowded halls. I was introduced to him a few months later at Google Zeitgeist (where I performed before a talk by Bill Clinton) but I doubt he has any recollection of me. So I might be well-connected but in the end I am a nobody.

What should I do? As much as it makes me grind my teeth, does having all my music forced onto Youtube’s music service really just not matter all that much? Should I just close my eyes and think of England?

Maybe after writing this blog Google will make the choice for me. They will block my channel and I will have to decide whether to block those 9,696 videos….and anger 9,696 fans. The usual people will talk about it for a day or two (*5) and then it and I will be forgotten.

Anyone starting up a new video service?


(*1) I know it is not the same thing but it’s interesting that my monthly number of Pandora spins is also about 250,000. I’m allowed to talk about how much that pays, about $324 (sound recording + artist payment combined). It’s a violation of my agreement to say how much a comparable number of Youtube plays pays.

(*2) Here is something weird. Until yesterday a search for “Zoe Keating” would yield a Google Knowledge Graph box on the right with all my info, including links to listen to my music. It always bugged me that those links were only to Google Play, Rhapsody and Spotify, all services which have hardly any of my music in them. If the metadata about me is really pure, why not link to the only services that actually have all my music? i.e. Bandcamp, SoundCloud and iTunes? I know the links were there yesterday because I searched to get the list for this blog. As of today, there are no music links whatsoever. Ideas?

(*3) Real things said to me by men in suits in 2004: “This could have potential if it had vocals.” “I don’t see a market for this”. “We need a sexy photo of you naked with your cello on top of you.”

(*4) I came of age in San Francisco working at a software startup during the dot com boom. The cyberpunks and the geeks were my friends. We worked together, we lived together, we raved together. Yes, a lot of what motivated us was the golden handcuffs (i.e. a salary of stock options only good in a future IPO) but I remember being motivated by the idea of technology changing the world for the better. Sometimes it felt like we were revolutionaries. Unfortunately a lot of those ideals, if they still exist, have become…corrupted is too strong a word….subsumed. The revolution has been corporatized.

(*5) Now commence the usual commentary about stupid artists and their entitled attitudes ;-)

UPDATE: 24 Jan

I’ve been in the midst of a medical crisis. It’s been horrible, an MRI found 25+ new mets in my husbands brain yesterday. It’s the first time the cancer has grown since it was discovered last year and we need a new plan.

I didn’t realize until late last night how widespread my blog went. Some people are saying that surely I must have misinterpreted what Google said to me. I based what I wrote off the transcript of our conversation ( after 9 months of dealing with the health insurance company I’ve gotten good at taking transcripts).

The rep said Google would “have to block my channel” if I didn’t sign the new music services agreement. They went on to say that if didn’t sign the agreement and wanted to keep my videos up I would have to unlink my channel so that it is not connected to the music agreement and then make a new channel under their regular non-music partner terms. In other words if I wanted to upload my own videos to youtube i would have to create a new account so my own music could be treated not like a partner account but like 3rd party videos (who would get the soundtrack share of the revenue I wonder?)

“the music terms are outdated and the content that you uploaded will be blocked. But anything that we can scan and match from other users will be matched in content ID and you can track it but won’t be able to participate in revenue sharing.”

"All music content has to be licensed under this new agreement. We can’t have music in the free version that is not in the paid version”

I had them explain it again to be sure.

“Wow, that’s a bit harsh,” I said.

“Yeah, I know,“ they said.

goldcaught  asked:

originals playing hide & seek + klaroline this is a prompt

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khaki-the-chip  asked:

I have a request please!! How about a scenario with polyReaper76 and an s/o who has narcolepsy? S/o just had their first narcoleptic episode and just collapsed asleep? Please and thanks!! You're one of my favorites!!!

Thank you <3
I took a few liberties with this prompt, as with narcolepsy you don’t really collapse asleep, but rather either sleep or collapse separately. I drew mostly from my work experience at the hospital but if you find any inaccuracies don’t hesitate to tell me :)

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Not Okay. Part 2. (Ashton Irwin.)

Requested - A lot actually. So here you go. 

Prompt - After the fight with Ashton that turned physical.

Warning - May contain some mild language. 

Words - 1,093.


Part 1.

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When she came out from her room for a snack, she wasn’t prepared for a sobbing scythe boy.

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A/N– me: crawls out of my hole in the ground, me: flings shit fic at u

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