but my other stuff is not yet done so


These two snippets from the YELL FOR Free!ES & HS! pamphlet had me laughing out loud, so naturally I have to share! Thank you @aliasanonyme for getting this for me! <3


Makoto: The training camps were really something, both last year’s and this years.

Haruka: And we had a joint training camp with Samezuka this year, so they really kicked it up a notch.

Rei: I wouldn’t describe it as “really something”, it’s more like…

Makoto: It was a disaster… an all-boys school can get pretty wild.

Nagisa: But wasn’t it like super fun!? The King’s game plus pillow fight tournament!

Rei: I didn’t expect it to last through the night. We were told off by Amakata-sensei the next day, who said “staying up late is detrimental to beauty!”

Nagisa: It was really funny~! Especially Sou-chan’s order when he was King~!

Haruka+Makoto: Nagisa!!

Nagisa: Awwww c'mon, it’s no big deal? You guys and Rin-chan looked really cute in the photos, y'know~?

Makoto: Don’t even think about showing them to anyone else!


Ai: In which case, speaking of traditions, the cultural festival’s…

Rin: Hey! Sto-, stop right there, Ai…!

Momo: Yeah, Ai-senpai! For next month’s cultural festival, I’m totally against the swimming club’s tradition of holding a Maid Cafe from Hell!! I don’t wanna wear a maid uniform-!! I wanna be a butler like the third years-!!

Ai: What are you talking about, Momo-kun? Look at me, it’ll be my second time dressing like that. Besides, Those maid uniforms were designed and redesigned by all our senpais from years past, they are the gems of their labor soaked in their sweat and tears…!

Momo: That makes it even worse-!

Sousuke: So what you mean is, Rin also wore the maid uniform when he was in second year.

Nitori: Oh, would you like to see? Rin-senpai was really amazing last year…!

Rin: Don’t you dare! Anyaway, why would you have those pictures? I’m so sure I’ve deleted all the data…!

Ai: Hehehe, amateur mistake, Rin-senpai. I took some pictures with a film camera as well.

Rin: Film…!? Shit, why didn’t I think of it…

Sousuke: Ai, develop one of those pictures for me,  it sounds like fun.

Nitori: Absolutely, it’d be my pleasure!

Rin: You guys~~~!


warning: triggers apply. adult language, sexual themes, violence, offensive subjects, offensive behaviors. please read & reblog with caution.

❛ And what exactly does “hooked up” mean? ❜
❛ It’s like a car wreck… you can’t not watch. ❜
❛ What’s that smell? It’s either vomit or fancy cheese. ❜
❛ There is no God. We’re all gonna die. ❜
❛ The hell? You’re supposed to negotiate! ❜
❛ If you’re looking for money, I don’t have any yet.  ❜
❛ How do you feel about metal splinters to the eye? ❜
❛ Are you up-to-date on your rabies shots? ❜
❛ I don’t like that you’re getting hurt on purpose to make money. ❜
❛ You’re kidding me? You’re actually serious about this shit? ❜
❛ You’re kinda growing on me. ❜
❛ Wanna see how fast I can unhook your bra? ❜
❛ You make my life a living hell and I want you out of here now. ❜
❛ Half of the world has penises, why do people get so upset about seeing them? ❜
❛ You’re nothing but a warm mouth to me. ❜
❛ I think I’m depressed. I’ve been feeling kind of funky lately. ❜
❛ I never said it was yours. You just wanted it to be. ❜
❛ Wouldn’t be the first time somebody’s disappointed me. ❜
❛ I don’t mean to be an asshole. It’s just… genetic. ❜
❛ Fuck you is what you were invited to. ❜
❛ I can’t even begin to imagine what kind of pussy you’d be in juvie. ❜
❛ I want normal people problems. Like, am I getting enough fiber? ❜
❛ Hey, I think I just insulted myself. ❜
❛ Hey! What the fuck man! He’s/she’s dead! ❜
❛ Oh, could you be a little more vague? ❜
❛ You came all the way down here to talk about my pubes? ❜
❛ How the fuck do you not have a gun? ❜
❛ Sure you’re ready to pop your armed robbery cherry? ❜
❛ You should have seen your face. ❜
❛ You don’t know who you messed with, bitch. ❜
❛ You fuck with the bull, you get an ass full of horns! ❜
❛ I’m not used to having people yell at me all day long. ❜
❛ I have this friend. I think you two might really hit it off. ❜
❛ I’ve seen you put out after the first drink. ❜
❛ You know, I’d hug you but neither of us would like that. ❜
❛ I don’t get why just don’t use her/his face for target practice. ❜
❛ I want a fucking lawyer motherfucker! ❜
❛ You’re covering your own ass and you know it. ❜
❛ You know I used a condom. ❜
❛ Do you know where I can buy a gun? ❜
❛ You think you scare me? Bring it, bitch! ❜
❛ I’m starting to get fucking homicidal. ❜
❛ I will make this kitchen my bitch. ❜
❛ They’re having a party for kids across the street. No booze. ❜
❛ A shrink at school says I’m one of God’s mistakes. ❜
❛ I believe the answer to that question, like the answer to most questions, is fuck you! ❜
❛ Did the two of us finish an entire gallon of box wine the other night? ❜
❛ I can’t handle anything up my ass without alcohol! ❜
❛ I’d be crying right now if I wasn’t so high. ❜
❛ I’m not my dad. You hear me? I’m not my fucking dad! ❜
❛ I would never do half the shit that you’ve done to us. Why are you even here? ❜
❛ Even the homeless get better stuff than us. ❜
❛ I am just as likely as anyone of this family to make something of myself. ❜
❛ You want to get shit faced in the middle of the day.  ❜
❛ You have no money yet you’re going into a grocery store. Interesting. ❜
❛ Let’s go get drunk and buy a gun. ❜
❛ It’s a shame when someone you love gets taken away, isn’t it? ❜
❛ If this is a relationship you wanna save, then you gotta fucking save it. ❜
❛ Off to deal drugs on a Saturday morning? ❜
❛ I’m probably biased, you deserve better than him. ❜
❛ If you don’t get out right now, I will shoot you. ❜
❛ Still don’t want your family to know? ❜
❛ Did I mention that I’m falling in love with you? ❜
❛ You can’t feel a persons headache by touching his head. ❜
❛ Are you robbing me with my own fucking gun? ❜
❛ How can you tell when you’re in love with someone? ❜
❛ Is that supposed to be some kind of insult? ❜
❛ I’m done living the way other people want me to live. ❜
❛ I think I was trying to prove something, not to you but to myself.  ❜
❛ If it wasn’t sex then what was the problem? ❜
❛ What do you want me to say? That I’m self-destructive? ❜
❛ Random destruction makes you think of me? ❜
❛ I haven’t abused marijuana like the rest of you, so yes I remember. ❜
❛ Your turf? What is this West Side Story? ❜
❛ All I’m gonna be thinking about while you choke me out is how much I love you. ❜
❛ If I don’t invest in myself, no one else will. ❜
❛ It smells worse than a dead hooker’s ass in there. ❜
❛ I don’t wanna be me anymore. ❜
❛ Why would anyone go to the zoo sober? ❜
❛ I’ve had so many abortions the next one is free. ❜
❛ I’d trade my left nut for one more hour of sleep. ❜
❛ How do you do that? The nice thing? ❜
❛ I’m sick of living in your shadow. ❜
❛ I never thought I’d say this but you were right. ❜
❛ Where can I get knives and blunts? ❜
❛ I can’t share a room with someone in constant state of arousal! ❜
❛ I’m sneaking antibiotics into his toothpaste just in case. ❜
❛ I got tasered for like a second and I crapped myself. ❜
❛ I’ve never seen you put on deodorant before. ❜
❛ I haven’t had a drink for two days…well granted I was unconscious. ❜
❛ I’ll be in the bushes across the street stalking you. ❜
❛ Is there anything more enjoyable on earth than humiliating your peers? ❜
❛ I need to buy a gun. For protection. In case there’s a shooting here. I’m scared. ❜
❛ It’s my job to tell you when you’re making a huge mistake. ❜
❛ Have you ever woken up naked in the street with no idea how you got there? ❜
❛ You’re either boning or you’re waiting to bone. ❜
❛ Doctors are thieves, they just have degrees to keep them out of jail. ❜
❛ You want me to be realistic? Okay, I’ll be realistic. ❜
❛ I confided in you and you told everyone. ❜
❛ I have no idea what that means but I’m enjoying trying to picture it. ❜
❛ I never made any fucking promises to you! ❜
Marichat May - Kiss it Better

It’s super late, but I said I’d do it!

The moment I saw the prompt, I thought of the song Kiss it Better by He is We, which is a straight shot to the feels and I’d definitely recommend it as background music if you ever need to write an angsty scene.

TW: Blood and Character death. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. See the tags for more thoughts.

Paris lay in ruins.

Paris lay in ruins and Chat Noir was alone.

He had split away from Ladybug nearly ten minutes ago so she could recharge her kwami. The akuma, a vastly destructive force that went by the name of Dévastateur, had spent the better part of the past hour turning the streets to rubble and carving chunks out of buildings. Monuments were crushed beneath his power – and for once, Chat wondered if Hawkmoth regretted releasing a power like that into the world.

The akuma wasn’t anything special, really. He was granted power, great power, which gave him strength beyond imagination. It was his heart, however, that had darkened to a point that no mortal should ever near.

Chat didn’t know why the victim had turned so cold. He wasn’t sure he cared – not when Ladybug was still missing in action and Paris was a bona fide mess. But he did know that the damage wasn’t entirely Hawkmoth’s fault. No. This was personal on some level. The man beneath the mask wanted to tear the world apart on his own terms.

In Ladybug’s absence, Chat had reverted to a new plan – evacuating as many civilians as he could as quickly as he could. There were times for showy heroics, and there were times when all that mattered was preventing a bloodbath. This happened to be one of the latter.

Keep reading


Yeah, it’s not October yet, but in my defense I’m gonna try to do Inktober stuff so I wanted to get this done before all that other stuff got added to my plate.

Jasper and Daniel dressed up for trick-or-treating from the Failed Possession AU! The costumes were Jasper’s idea, he insisted that they both be superheroes. (Also obligatory Danny Phantom joke heehee.) Daniel can’t really say no because Jasper can easily kick his ass(Jasper being the senior ghost since he’s been that way for literal years while Daniel has been a ghost for a few months at most), but at least Jasper didn’t make him style his hair different even though the color had to be changed.

Jasper can’t eat the candy but he likes trick-or-treating anyway, it’s a fun experience and it lets him pretend that he’s alive again for a few hours. He gives his candy to kids who don’t get as much on Halloween because they started their rounds late due to parents working and such. Jasper is a good sweet ghost boy.

Daniel is just pissed and salty and I love it. He is the saltiest ghost. Though who could blame him when he got his ass kicked by not one but TWO preteens(Jasper never aged, and one could say that it was technically Max who foiled Daniel in the cult episode by turning Daniel’s own tactics against him and getting David to see him as a threat to his position as counselor).

(The second pic is transparent.)


Mr. President (M)

Genre: Smut, University!AU
Word count: 3k
Description: Getting some private time gets harder and harder when both you and your boyfriend are busy with responsibilities. Seems like it’s your turn to be bold and make a move on your stressed man.
Warnings: Mature content
Author’s note: It’s been a while since I wrote anything and even though I wasn’t particularly skilled before, now I’m extra rusty. This was more practice than anything and hopefully I’ll like my next works more. Or maybe I’ll even like this one more in the morning, who knows. :D I didn’t proof read this one yet, I’m just eager to finally have something to post… I’m almost done with university but I will have other stuff going on this summer, so I’m still not sure how often I’ll be able to write. However I do have a chaptered work started so I’d love to release that. ^^

Dating the student council president meant busy and conflicting schedules, constant worrying when you’d see the dark circles under your boyfriend’s eyes during your morning coffee dates, and that tiny feeling of inferiority you’d try to hide whenever someone mentioned how smart and charismatic your partner is. The fact that you recently took up editing the university’s newspaper did help in boosting your ego; however making time for dates became an impossible task during busier weeks. On the other hand the student council president you were dating was Kim Namjoon, which meant constant messages no matter if he was in the same lecture hall or attending a conference across the country, deep meaningful talks about everything and nothing at all, sweet dates and mind blowing sex, which would leave your lower body sore for the next day and your skin painted in poorly hidden blotches of blue and purple. To your delight, Namjoon himself would also look like a glowing disaster when you’d spot him in the halls the next day – the usual hickey on the sensitive part of his neck making you bite your lip in satisfaction.

Keep reading

The Way You Looked at Me. [Chapter Three]

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x Reader

Genre: Angst

College AU!

Word Count: 2.6k

Song for this chapter: 약속 (EXO 2014) 

[Teaser] [Chapter One] [Chapter Two] [Chapter Three] [Chapter Four] [Chapter Five]

Originally posted by hobies


The next few days went by so quickly, and we’ve had one dance rehearsal with the new members and surprise surprise, Hoseok didn’t show. He was always stubborn when it came to his own words, if he wasn’t going to or didn’t want to do something then, he simply will not do it. Unless something really urged him to do so, sometimes it took a lot of effort and motivation to get Hobi off his butt to do something, but he knows right from wrong and will do things accordingly.

It’s move in day today, which meant students were going to be all over campus carrying lots and lots of boxes and suitcases full of useless junk that we don’t end up using during our stay in the dorms. New year means a new roommate, last year’s roommate was a little patronising but she was nice I guess? Our rooms were always nice and big, more like a mini apartment space excluding the kitchen. The room I had last year had me sharing a bedroom space with the roomie and let’s just say that was a slight inconvenience for the both of us who had boyfriends. But this time I knew for sure I asked for a room with separated bedrooms, you ever know what could happen, I certainly didn’t want to see naked strangers in the same room as me. Don’t ask.

I parked my car and took out my suitcases, rolling them to my designated room. Opening the door I was greeted by a large open living area, a space where I could do dance practice, putting my stuff down by the couch I snooped around to see if my roommate was here yet, but to my surprise they weren’t. I didn’t want to pick a room and be rude before the other person I had to live with for the next year could get a say, so I just continued to bring my luggage in and out of the room until I was done.

I was growing increasingly impatient as I waited, I wanted to unpack my shit and go to bed and be ready for dance practice again tomorrow but no sign of anyone, until a struggled knock at a door sounded through the room. Getting up, I sighed and rolled my eyes wondering why they can’t use their own keys to open the door. I was about to ask them that very question but my eyes were met with a familiar pair of eyes.

Keep reading


ANOTHER LEGO BATMAN ANIMATIC! cause i rlly fucking love this movie and its does batman so good and i can not get over it,, this also,, probably wont be my last batman animatic,, cause i have other ideas i haven’t done yet,, but for now just enjoy more batjokes stuff!


I followed all the rules, when I came here the first time. Listened to all of the stories, the tips, believed all of the warnings and the worries. Watched some classmates disappear, sometimes covered with excuses of transfers, sometimes not, watched suspiciously or with awed eyes to those who were suspected to be other.

But I never saw a single thing. I never saw the creatures late in the library, I never heard things scratching on my windows, and I never felt eyes on the back of my neck walking home in all the dark, clutching iron nails in my jacket pockets.
I’m from the South, you see, and down there we don’t have this Fae nonsense. There’s no flimsy fairy circle to be warned about, no rock in the middle of the road; sure, I’d read the fables, but that’s all they were to me. Fables.

I believed in something different. That’s all it came down to; belief. 
So when I brought the shrine with me, and gave it its own shelf, I shouldn’t’ve been surprised that everything left me alone for the first year. I shouldn’t’ve been surprised that, as I was deaf to my gods, so was I blind to the Fae. (You learn to listen in other ways.)

It was only that first summer, when I wore something other than a t-shirt for the first time, and my ankh tattoo finally was blessed by the sun for the first time, and my friend flinched away from me when I turned to talk to someone, it was only then that I started to take note.
I couldn’t see them - of course, this will come as no surprise - I couldn’t see them, I couldn’t hear or touch them, not like some of my friends swore they could, but.
When I was holding that ankh necklace, when I was wearing that tattoo, when I was believing, they could tell. I learned which days to wear the necklace over my shirts, and which days to hide it under the binder.

It wasn’t until two years later, when I painted gold onto my eyelids, that I could see for the first time.
But that’s getting ahead of myself. I had two years of knowing nothing; of seeing friends Taken and gone, of some of them coming back, of wondering what it was that I wasn’t seeing, and wondering when my belief wasn’t going to hold me safe anymore.
I brought my cat up to campus, in one of the apartments nearby (did the campus own these? were they just affiliated with it? I’m still not sure, to this day) and then when I set up my shrine, certain friends stopped coming in without permission. My cat followed me about the small space, over and over again, waited for me by the door every single day, and purred on my lap for hours. (It wasn’t until years later that I would call him a “familiar” for the first time.)

The next year was rough. I still never saw a thing; I made friends, I joined clubs, I branched out to new places and new people and new classes, I drew fantastical things in my sketchbook, I wondered and wondered whether the softest tone of a bell I heard in one class was something Other, I wondered and wondered whether the thunderclap that we all heard one day with clear sky was something Other, and yet I never knew anything for sure.

I stopped carrying iron, stopped wasting my ramen packets (that stuff is so, so bland without it, so I savored every possibly last bite I got) stuffing them in pockets, stopped wondering. I stopped looking at certain students with awe and wonder, stopped darting glances over my shoulder late at night, stopped pretending to have seen something my classmates had. I had followed all the rules; done everything right; and never seen a thing. I had friends who would swear up and down and around the mountain that they were real, that the Gentry (their word, never mine), had done this or that, that they had seen something or other, but never me. It was a quaint university, that was for sure, but was it really magical?

And then I saw her. She was the first person to ever seem More, to me, the first person to shine in my eyes like she had some kind of luck brimming in her smile, the first person to freeze me solid with her laugh (oh, there were others, who sent shivers all up and down my spine in the best ways, but this one, this one was different somehow) and the first person to touch the fox tail I’d worn for years with wonder, and not disgust or barely-hidden half-curiosity half-abhorrence. 

I bribed her with gummy sharks, all the while thinking about the fables - for, to me, they were truly only fables - of eating food in the Fae world, of being stuck there forever. All the while wondering breathlessly about the idea that maybe, for the first time, I was Seeing.

I met her again on the lawn, looking for someone else, and I sat and found that she, too, drew fantastical things and creatures without name. I found that she wore no shoes, and when she laughed I wanted to listen to the sound forever. And when her eyes glittered just so, then I wanted to drown in their blue.

I bribed her with gummy sharks, and dances, and honesty; the greatest gift that one could give on this campus, I had learned, and I’d honed mine to a brutal point.
And, eventually, when I tangled my fingers finally in that curly ocean of teal, dyed colors and colors that I did not know could come in a tube or a on a brush, I felt like magic for a moment.

It wasn’t until she flinched at the first mirror that I started to suspect anything, for real. It wasn’t until then that my heart knew, and my mouth started speaking with that brutal honesty it was so good at. It wasn’t until then that something in my gut changed, something in my heart stirred, and something in my hearing clicked.
I heard padding footsteps on the path behind me, that night, felt something curling in the mist around me, that night, as I walked away from her dorm.

I still didn’t believe it. Not really, not truly; but I did clutch to my necklace when I walked away, a little too fast, and I did relax in my car, sheathed in metal, a little too much. 

She changed me.

And when I told her my stories, her eyes lit up, and when she told me her worlds, I listened with rapter attention than I had paid anyone here, shivers dancing on my spine and gooseflesh on my arms (no feathers; I was embarrassed to admit even to myself that I had checked, later, in the bathroom, alone with my cat.) and something shivering new in my heart.
And when she looked at me, I felt like I had become the center of every vision on earth; and when she laughed for me, the feelings that swelled in my heart swelled without name; and when I kissed her, I thought that it was nothing more than what it was; smiles and flattery and - daresay - love.

But then the meat in the dining hall tasted a little bit different that night. But then the salt burned my tongue a little more than it should - how should salt burn your tongue, anyways? How do you describe what should and shouldn’t taste, how things changed just enough to notice them but only once, because pineapple and oranges taste so good, how had I never tried those before?

I’m getting away from myself again. It’s easy; easy to get lost. Maybe that’s what they mean by Taken, sometimes. Maybe that’s why english majors and storytellers and musicians are the most oft to come back.

Anyways. It entered my life in bursts, leaps and bounds, fits and starts: the half feral cats purred at my touch, the crows regarded me with careful eyes, the rain kissed my lips and dusted my eyelashes like gems. The music spoke back to me, random patterns finding less random and more sass; the tarot deck she would push into my hands would speak louder, eventually.

She called me beautiful; and I had no words to reply. She called me divine, and my heart sung out in response so loud and so unerringly that I could not say no, and within a month I had inked it into my skin.

The artist gave me rose quartz to hold, told me that there is no divinity without pain, and the sigils on my arms burned like fire the first time I stepped foot back on campus.
But that was alright.
Because I could hear them now, because I met the fox eyes and lightly glowing gazes with my own raised high, with a proudness that had infected me, somewhere, when someone a little less human and a little too magic had told me I’ll have enough confidence for the both of us, and at the end of that winter everything had changed.

I mean that mundanely, of course. I couldn’t See anything yet, but new scars stretched across my chest and suddenly, shirtlessness was possible, and suddenly, my tattoos meant something more, and suddenly, I was myself and there was no other way to be.
I convinced her she was Fae at some point, over that break, too. With whispered words beneath blue fairy lights, and the snow trapping us alone, with my heart beating so much closer to the outside world than it had been, wrapped in a form that wasn’t quite mine, we spun tales at one another until she was half joking to worship me, and I was half joking to change my piercings out for less iron ones.

The joke stopped the day I painted gold onto my eyelids. With her supervision, and my nervousness - just a little bit of makeup - just a little bit of makeup - we surrounded my eyes in gold and she smiled, by my gods did she smile, and my heart felt so radiant I could not want for anything else in that moment.

And then I left her dorm to trek my way home, to my cat, and my lights, and my bed - sorrowfully empty - and when I raised my head to meet the eyes of another student, I had to look twice as high as I ever had before.

As it turns out, the Fae have an agreement - this Court with others, that Court with some, ancient beings with ancient beings, and - for me at least, far be it for me to speak for others - occasionally, the child of the divine.
All it takes is belief - belief in the Fae, belief in the rumors, belief in the iron around your fingers and the salt in your pockets - belief in what will and will not work, belief in the world around you and the one that you cannot see - and belief in your own kind of magic.

I believed hard enough in the divine touching me - and, maybe, roped a child of the Fae into speaking it into truth - that maybe they did.
And now I never leave the house with my eyes unburdened by gold, without my fingers wrapped in a carefully picked pattern of gold and iron rings, without the glitter of divinity speckling my skin, without the pride in myself decorating my features, inspired by someone who won’t use her roommates’ iron cutlery anymore.


disneynerd94  asked:

Hey! Just found your W2H short film on YouTube and absolutely loved it! I read you are working on a second one which is awesome, but my question is: have you worked on other projects since then that we can see or are you working in a studio now with other film makers?

Ooh!  A question besides “when will you make more”!!  Exciting!

Okay so!  In the last couple years I’ve mostly done freelance animation, with a small dosage of studio work.

A lot of the freelance I’ve done is stuff I can’t really post… maybe it was an intro sequence for someone’s cartoon pitch, or a music video that hasn’t been uploaded yet, stuff like that.  As for the stuff that IS out there:

Ghost Satellite - this is the youtube channel of a studio/collective me and my friends ran.  Most of the time we would stream animation on twitch and compile weekly animations called “ghost animate”s based around a certain topic or theme.  We’ve done a couple of W2H-themed animations as well.

  We also did some commercial work which wasn’t on the channel, so here are some of those:

  • 6969 - Music video for Ninja Sex Party.
  • How He Does It - cartoon for NSP’s live show
  • How We Met -  another cartoon for NSP’s current 2017 tour, JUST finished it.  Not technically Ghost Satellite but a lot of the same people.
    (we do a lot of stuff with NSP haha)
  • Smosh Animated - it’s the first 2 results.

I’ve also worked on a show called Greatest Party Story Ever for MTV (imdb has a list of what episodes I worked on, but I put a couple of clips in my REEL).

And I’ve worked on an upcoming pilot for Adult Swim called Chuck Deuce.  (I’ll probably post more about that on my personal blog when it comes out!)

AND!  For just a random assortment of junk I use in a portfolio, you can check out erica-wester.com

But as for like… personal projects?  There’s something on my website I refer to as “gayliens” which I’d like to do eventually, but the next thing I have slated is W2H2!  Hope that answers your questions!

That’s It (Kylo Ren x Reader Smut)

Warnings: This is shit, please don’t read. I liked Good Boy better. Semi-violent, dubious consent(??), glove kink. Fucking on top of dead peoples ashes? While grandpa vader watches? Orgasm delay/denial. Other stuff..

Word Count: A lot. 2.7K

A/N: Ok um shit i….  This is a thing i did, idk if anyone’s done this yet.. Why does this shit turn me on??? Why couldn’t I be normal? I’d like to apologize to jesus and my dad. Also, the fucking tub of ashes is in his Vader room bc that makes more sense than a random cell. 

Keep reading


Hey everyone! Today is Trans Day of Visibility, so I’m sharing some of my favorite pics from the past year. I only had one picture I felt good about last year, so it’s a big improvement!

I’ve been on hormones for almost 2 years now (woah) and it’s been a heck of a rollercoaster. My dysphoria days are much more infrequent now (though they still happen of course), and I’ve even been posting selfies this year! On the other hand, I still need to get around to legal name and gender change stuff (next year me, if you don’t have that done I’m gonna be so upset with you!), and I haven’t come out at work yet, so it’s still a long road ahead, but life is okay, and getting better.

I’m hugely thankful to the friends and partners who have supported me through all this. You all know who you are, and I love you all very much! I’m amazed at the progress I’ve made this year, and hopeful that the future will continue to show promise.

Happy TDoV!

- Sara (she/her)

New art blog!

Yep that’s right!

No, I’m not deleting/abandoning this one, I just want to draw other stuff too and I’m not confortable posting anything that isn’t HxH here anymore, so yeah lol. I think a brand new one is the way to go.

Anyway, here’s the thing https://gabitzart.tumblr.com/, there’s not much yet but I plan on posting lots of random shit, studies, ocs, etc. Follow it if you want more of my art that has nothing to do with HxH \o.

okay so. as someone who runs one of the very, very few ocpd-centric blogs on tumblr (not this one, i mean @thatocpdfeel ), its actually so upsetting how little people know abt ocpd, even here on tumblr amongst other mental health bloggers. not to say anything bad abt those bloggers!!! its just not spoken abt much. maybe thats because its not as common as, like, bpd or avpd, but its also because SO many ocpd symptoms are ENCOURAGED by society. i get so many tags on my posts saying “thats an ocpd thing???” or “thats not normal???” or “im not supposed to do that???” like so much of what is killing us from the inside are things parents, teachers, and guardians all think are positive attributes to have, but we internalize those things in such a twisted and intense way that we suffer and yet are idealized for our suffering.
ive had so many people with other illnesses, like depression, tell me how ocpd has its upsides because i can be productive and get stuff done when they cant even get out of bed. thats not how it works.
ocpd is not being perfect.
ocpd is NEEDING to be perfect because even the tiniest mistake means you are the scum of the earth and deserve to die.
ocpd is not double checking your work to make sure you got everyting right because you want a good score.
ocpd is perfecting the wording of a single sentence because if it doesnt imply the exact thought you are trying to get across then it means you have failed and even if it is still technically right and no points are taken off, inside you know that it was wrong and it COULD have been better and your personal standards are ten times higher than the official standards because you know that the goals you need to reach to be successful are leaps and bounds above what the average person needs, not because you are better than them but because you must strive to become better than them at all cost because second best is still a loser.
ocpd is not orangizing your work station before starting a new project.
ocpd is crying and screaming while you trash 42 different versions of the same attempted project and shoving everything off your desk and wanting to pull out your hair or bang your head on a wall because you messed it up so many times already and if you dont get it right this time you will never get it and you will be marked as a failure for the rest of your life, unable to accomplish literally anything and youre so terrified of that thought you take six hours to scrub at your desk and mop the floor and take a razor to that bit of wax thats been stuck on the leg of your chair for a week and half and meticulously organize everything into boxes, counting every ration you put in to make sure they all even out, and listing everything thats there and labeling the boxes then straight up leaving the work area and not thinking about the project for another month.
ocpd is not having a folder of all your important documents because you know you will need them some time.
ocpd is having six folders, each containing vastly different documents, some of which are important, some of which are just old receipts to mcdonalds, some are keepsakes from friends, some of which are just a scap of paper with scribbles that you dont remember what they mean but maybe one day you will, and the rest are just any paper youve ever come across in your life. theyre all just as important as everything else though because the thought of prioritising them is nearly incomprehensible because they are all important and you need them all for equally important things so when you need, like, that paper for your auto insurance you first must sift through six hundred pages of notes your friends passed back and forth in middle school over five years ago and you dont even talk to them anymore but you absolutely cannot get rid of them. its all so important.
ocpd is not being productive.
ocpd is waking up and remembering that you are an inherently flawed and imperfect being, but also that your worth in this world is defined by what you put into it, so even if you cant be perfect, if you make enough perfect stuff or do enough stuff perfectly, it will all give the illusion to others as well as yourself that you are perfect. so you push yourself to do whatever it is you do. regardless of your other illnesses, you work and and try to be as productive as you possibly can because thats your only chance. you go into work sick. you push yourself past your limits, past what you know you are physically/mentally able to do, and you suffer for breaching those limits but all that pain is WORTH it because you are temporarily overcome with a sense of accomplishement and SOMEONE is finally proud of you. you did something right FOR ONCE. so even if you go completely nonverbal, or lay in bed for the next week in pain, or end up in the ER, or seventeen other things didnt get done, there was the most brief sense of absolute euphoria even if its almost immidiately replaced by a sense of overwhelming anxiety about what you messed up, forgot, did wrong, or ignored to achieve that feeling and the cycle of fixing, fixing, fixing repeats itself.
ocpd is not being bossy, egotistical, or controlling.
ocpd is a deeply psychological understanding that even the most insignificant mistake will reflect back on you in the most exaggerated and horrendous way possible. its knowing that if you ask your friend to go get you a red pen, but they bring you a blue one, and you dont know they got blue instead, so if you write even the smallest mark in that blue ink, even if its technically okay to write in red or blue, you specified red, so the fact that its blue makes it wrong and unnacceptable so in your mind its better to drop what your doing and get the correct red pen yourself even if its right beside your friend and you are already focusing on something else. the concept of asking others to do something, not even something in a manner of helping you but just to divide up jobs evenly, its absolutely impossible. because if they do something wrong, it will reflect on you, then you did something wrong and we both know that doing something wrong is completely out of the question. you would rather multitask four things at once, but the sight of someone else just twiddling their thumbs while you bust your ass is so infuriating! why cant they do what you are doing? why cant they just read your mind and know exactly what you need, when you need it, and be helpful? thats what you would do if they were in your situation! if they were working like you, you would hand them everything. you would also probably go ahead and just put that back for them. well, you could also handle that too. and before you know it, their job is your job and there they are twiddling their thumbs and looking at you for a job to do. its the phrase “if you want something done right, do it yourself” taken to a whole other level.
ocpd is so much more than what people think. were more than just a “type a personality” or “perfectionists” and its not just “mild ocd” either. ocpd is painful. please remember that.

Dating Hoseok;

other memebers; min yoongi | park jimin | namjoon | taehyung | seokjin | jungkook

Originally posted by sunshinejhp

- having such a fan, yet weird relationship.
- him kissing you on the cheek
- hoseok booping your cheeks all the time
- basically, him being in love with your cheeks
- really cute good morning/good night texts
- whenever he’s on tour, he’ll texted you 24/7 saying “i love you” or
“i miss you”
- him dancing weirdly sat the random times through the day
- and then you staring at him likes he’s on crack
“honey, it’s called talented. something you don’t know much about,”
- cute coffee dates
- just being complete idiots around each other
- going to the beach a lot
- like beach dates
- p d a
- lots of pda
- so much fucking pda
- being known as the “loud couple”
- cheesy pick up lines
“is there a mirror in your pocket, because i can see myself in your pants,”
“i actually hate you,”
“i love you too babes,”
- him making you laugh whenever you’re upset or angry
- him being “your hope”
- literally, him cradling you whilst you sleep
- laying your head on his lap whilst watching movies
- cinema dates
- basically, a fuck load of dates
- him calling you up at 4 am, asking if you wanna go on a
- “hobi, it’s 4 in the morning,”
“i know, i can tell the time. now get your lazy ass out of bed and come out with me,”
- lil nose kisses
- watching whilst he practices the dances
- him always having rap battles with you
- “i obviously won,” you’d say waving your hands around in his face
“sure babe, only because i love you,”
- him buying you gifts and surprising you with them all the time
- like literally all the god damn times
- seriously, his always buying you shit even though you tell him not to
“babe, you shouldn’t have. i told you last time, i don’t need the gifts. you shouldn’t be spending your money on me,”
- “well, what else am i suppose to spend it on? my cat,”
- “you don’t have a cat,”
- “exactly, I’ve got no one to spend my money on,”
- aLl ThEm FuCkInG sMiRkS
- him being the sunshine he is
- you being his “favourite human being,”, as he puts it
- lots and lots of kisses
- kiss on your lips, your forehead, your nose, your cheek, your ear, your neck.
- he just loves kissing you
- hobi would always want to be close to you
- him being the big spoon whilst spooning
- cute nicknames for each other; sunshine, sweetie pie, cutie, my love etc.
- “i love you my little sunshine,”
- always yelling
- when having arguments he’d go quiet letting you yell at him for whatever reason
- he’d probably just walk away, and lock himself in his room
- staying away from you for a while before coming back to hug you apologetically
- i don’t think he’d arguments
- but when you do him getting extremely upset about it
- “let’s never fight again, yeah baby,”
- his biggest fear would be losing you
- whenever your upset he’d probably cry with you
- emotions
- loads and loads of emotions
- him crying over the smallest things, even if you’re not that bothered about the problem he would be
- him just being an absolute darling
- “you’re amazing, you know that,”
- endless reminders of how wonderful and beautiful you are
- overall, him just being a little prince and loving you more then anything
- your relationship would be the best, and hobi would be the most amazing boyfriend to ever exist. your realationship would be practically perfect in every way, he’d just get you.
sup, hey, how ya doin!
so, yeah, this is how i think hobi would be as a boyfriend.
i think he’d be the cutest smol and i love him. the other boys will be coming up within the next couple of days so if i haven’t done your bias yet, he’s coming- don’t worry.

anyway, thanks so much for reading!
hope you enjoyed reading it as much as i liked writing it.
reacts, moodboards and ship requests are still open, so don’t be scraed to message me at anytime.
and here’s my masterlist in case you wanna check out any of my other stuff.
- love ya all!
- kala
last post: dating min yoongi
last react: northern dialect

The Other Girl *Johnny Storm x Reader*1/3

Originally posted by luvinchris

Summary: You’re the other girl to a guy who just doesn’t give a crap about you, although pretends to. You meet Storm on a night out, who for a night helps you think you’re over being the other girl, but you end up in a bigger dilemma.
Word Count: 1410
Warnings: Implied sexy times and swearing

There isn’t going to be a seperate tagging list for this, so don’t ask.

A part of the conversation is inspired by 27 Dresses. My favourite movie of all time, well chick-flick movie. I had to break down what I wrote into three parts.

A/N: Lately, I’ve been writing stuff because I have to. I have to get this part to this series done, and honestly, I miss writing for myself. I’ve wanted to write Johnny for so long, so let me indulge myself :) - Rosalie

You don’t really know how you ended up here. How you ended up being the other girl, the girl who sleeps and sees a man who is in a relationship with another. Yet, you were. You had somehow met a guy that you liked but he was already committed to someone else. You began seeing one another a few months ago, on and off, nothing too serious- you thought his previous relationship had ended. Even after you found out he was still with the girl you carried it on because you liked him. And you believed him.

He countlessly told he would end things. That he’d be with you but you knew it was just a line to get you sleep with him; it worked. It made you feel special in a twisted way. He went to you still, he wanted to see you and spend time with you, he can’t love that other girl too much if he sees you. But then he can’t love you that much if he is still with that girl.

You tapped the bar for the bartender’s attention, he gave a disapproving sigh but still poured the whisky into your empty glass. To take your mind off how fucked your love life is, you decided to hit up a club and have a few drinks. You thought it would help but you just weren’t in the mood for the loud music, sweaty bodies and the bitter alcohol taste. As you lift the glass you notice one other body leaning against the bar, you frown setting your glass down.

He was staring into his drink, deep in his mind because he wasn’t paying attention to the small group of girls behind him, eyeing him up like he was something to eat. His hair short and he looked oddly familiar to you but you didn’t know from where. His sullen look was more depressing than your own, his hands toyed with his almost empty glass.

“I didn’t think anyone else could look as depressing as me in a club but,” you spoke up and his blue eyes slowly dragged up to meet your own. “Then I see you and, seriously, buddy who pissed in your cereal this morning?” You tried to crack a joke but he doesn’t smile or laugh, he narrows his eyes and exhales slowly, downing the last of his drink.

He eyes the empty glass before looking at you. “My girlfriend has been cheating on me,” is all he says and you instantly feel bad for the joke. “So, I guess, my girlfriend pissed in my cereal this morning as her new guy laughed.” His bitter tone is directed at you, as it should be.

“Listen, I’m really sorry.” You try but give a little sigh. “If it makes you feel any better I’m kinda in the same boat, well, not really. I’m the other girl, I guess, no I am. It sucks.” He looks at you with raised eyebrows and you nod once. “I like him but he’s with another girl and I still sleep with him because he made a bunch of empty promises.” You add a light-heartedly chuckle downing your own drink.

It’s silent between you and this guy for a few seconds. “Well, our love lives officially suck.” You both end up laughing at that, he pushes off the bar and sits on the stool near you offering his hand, which you gladly take. “Johnny Storm-”

“-But the ladies call you Torch.” He ends up laughing as you chuckle. “I knew I recognised you, wow, I would have dressed up if I knew I’d be meeting a superhero. I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

The conversation between you and Johnny flowed easily. You brought one another drinks, laughed at each other’s stupid and sad stories, it was nice to just have someone’s attention like this. It had been a while since you actually had fun.

“He must be really good in bed if you’re willing to be the other girl,” Johnny commented, sipping the rather exotic cocktail; umbrella and pineapple with a cherry on a cocktail stick in all. The image made you want to laugh but Johnny Storm had always come across rather flamboyant.

You sighed and nodded. “It’s not just the sex, well, it wasn’t always. We would hang out and talk, I thought he had broken things off but he hadn’t and I just can’t say no,” You shrugged and he nodded. “I’m sick of being the other girl.” You sighed shaking your head.

“Okay, I’m gonna help you.” You frowned and looked at Johnny, he turned your stool to face him. “We’re gonna practice saying no,” you chuckled and he raised an eyebrow. “C’mon this will work, you just gotta say no!” You chuckle but nod. “Y/N, give me fifty dollars.”

You laugh. “No.”

Johnny grins but rolls his eyes at you. “Y/N, it’s just fifty bucks. I’ll pay you back.”


Johnny sighs gently and takes your hand, caressing the back of it with his thumb. “Y/N… I need you to give me fifty bucks.” He stares into your eyes for what seems like forever.

You shake your head and tentatively mutter, “No?”

“Eh… Not bad.” You grin and turn back to the bar, “Can I have your drink?”

You nod giving a faint, “Sure.” Before realising what you had said. “No. Oh no!” You cried as Johnny sipped your drink with a little chuckle.

“You were doing so well.” You shake your head as he orders another drink for you and him. You glanced at your phone and see no texts from him, you let slip a sad sigh. “I don’t get it. Why don’t you just anonymously tell the girl he’s cheating on her? That would end the relationship and then he’d be all yours.”

You sip the beer that’s brought to you. “I couldn’t do that to him. He said he’s gonna do it soon and I believe that.” you sounded like you were trying to convince yourself more than Johnny. “Plus, I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

Johnny chuckled a little, “Hey, I’m not judging you. Just you’re a very pretty girl that if you wanted could get any guy in here, so why waste your time with that sleaze?”

You smiled slightly as he comments. You hadn’t been called pretty in a while, he rarely complimented you and if he did it was during sex. You gave a soft sigh, sipping your drink, the blush rising to your cheeks before looking back at Johnny who was watching the crowd. He said ‘any guy in here’, meaning him too, right? Johnny was hot, no pun intended; you both had fucked relationships, releasing a little steam would be good.

“Any guy in here?” You asked, resting your elbow on the bar and head in your hand, looking at him as he chuckled and nodded. “Including you or…”

“I’d more than happy to show you a good time if you’re looking for one?” The smirk settling on his face made you grin, the decision already being made.

You both left to your apartment via a taxi. You started this morning watching the man you had been hooked on, watching him dress and leave, once again. Now you were finishing it with Johnny Storm, not that you minded. You had somehow managed to keep your hands to yourselves in the taxi, giving light chat as the driver pulled up to your apartment complex.

Once you stepped through your door was when you finally kissed Johnny. Him pushing you up against the door, you gasped as your back collided harshly with the door and chuckled against his lips. Wrapping your arms around his neck as he gently lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and he carried you off to your bedroom.

(It’s not anyone’s fault for why I’ve been feeling like this. Lately, I’ve been watching blogs delete or complain about the content on this site (not aimed at anyone, it’s just something I’ve noticed lately.). Then, for some reason, people think I can fix their problems - even though I can hardly fix my own shit- and it’s all just… cry me a river. Hopefully, you like this, if not that’s okay. I’ve been wanting to write Storm for a while and decided to just write for myself for a change. - Rosalie) 

Everything Tagging list(let me know if you wanna be added or taken off- this tagging list means you’ll be told when I post anything; Marvel, The Walking Dead & Riverdale(I don’t do separate ones for those)): @girl-next-door-writes @22ifyoukeepmenextoyou @t3-daria-todo @sebby-staan @skylark50 @thegoddamnfeels @gillibean9 @sergeantjamesbarnes107th @full-of-sins-not-tragedies @fxcknbarnes @broncos5soslover @fangirlwithasweettooth @buckyismybbz @charlotteblanden @momscapris @firewolfkelly @winterboobaer @mychocolatemints

@avengingthesupernatural @usannika @itzelreader @tillytheinvisibleshadow @imagining-marvel-soldier @oh-my-gravity@katiegrace122 @sillylittlemary @buckyhawk @codexofwitches @the-the-sound-of-the-bees-blog @songsforsentences @leahneslen21@whateveriwantworld @itsblehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh @that-one-jewish-elf @tardispandagirl @theawkwardone-0002 @djpaige13paige @thewinchestersbabe @majestic-squad @fangirlextraordinaire713 @stevesmylove82 @mrporkstache @marvelousmimi @shadyweeny @thequeenofgood

@calursocute @casey-anne-j @ohmoveoveralohomora @grass-is-not-green @hiphoppery @imnotinsanehunny @you-didnt-see-that-cuming @coltcas @agalaxyofgayships @jjsoccer11 @broken-pieces @courtneychicken @bekah814 @hollycornish @1990s-girls (idk if this is my up to date tagging list (which I’m gonna be renewing soon)

All. is. Free…

So I’m all for the kids being happy and stuff but what about this: Alex and Jonas both being so scared for each other that they do not stop holding hands.

I told you I’d make a companion piece. And I’m not even done with these two yet.

BTS Jungkook Imagine/Scenario | Alternate Universe

Reader x Jungkook

Genre: Fluff, angst and a little bit of smut.

Warnings: It may be too much for your heart???

Words: Around 1400

Summary: Jungkook lost his bestfriend 7 months ago in a car crash. While he lost him, he also lost himself. After being in pain for quite some time now, can Jungkook finally find the special sparkle that brings him back to life again?

Note: Surprise! Here’s a little story between you, the reader, and Jungkook. I got inspiration from Pinterest and I’m in love with the concept of it. I hope you will too :)

Keep reading


My @sheithbigbang entrance for @satalderihannsu

I had so much fun and for those that know me, know how much I love any Japan history era AU. I haven’t done a lot of Sengoku Era stuff but that it one of my favorite eras. All the warlords and politics (  ////u////)

The fic has yet to be finished but I will update with a link once it’s ready (  o u o)b But you can definitely check out her his other works [here]