crock of shit

Will You Let It Die...?

Originally posted by kitaplarvekedilerr

Word Count: 1,800

Requested: Hey sweetie, how are you? Can you do an imagine where Shawn’s performing Roses onstage and he gets emotional (like last night’s show) bc Roses is y/n’s fav song and he misses her so much bc they aren’t together anymore and then he calls her and asks her for another chance? Sorry my English, it’s not my first language

Note: HERE WE GO Y’ALL

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“What song do you get most emotional about playing?” The girl who had asked him this question during the Q&A meant no harm, but the feeling of his heart breaking at the question - proved him otherwise.

If you were to ask him which song he got the most emotional about playing, which this girl did, it would be Roses. Not due to the message behind it, that had little to do with why Shawn’s eyes stung with sadness each time he performed it. No, it reminded him of the love he had until recently - you.

Shawn took his time in answering this question, debating on whether or not to tell the truth or give a different answer. However, he didn’t want to hide anything, so he gave her the truth.

“Probably Roses.” He answered simply, wanting to move on.

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My hometown’s local newspaper published this as an “advertisement”. They attached no name. Whoever paid for that to be put in as an ad didn’t want to face the fucking backlash because they knew they were an asshole.

They should not have published that. They wouldn’t publish ads with graphic sexual descriptions, blatant racism, or swearing, so they have no excuse for this bullshit homophobic crock of shit.

That said. A bunch of people from home (straight people, I might add) have been posting this picture on Facebook and sharing their outrage at it, emailing the editors, and otherwise being disgusted.

Hopefully the Gippsland Times soon publishes an apology and vastly distances themselves from this. With the plebiscite approaching quickly, they have no right to try and block out votes that could be life-changing for LGBT Australians.

Also the term “has only a half-share in any baby produced” is quite possibly the most disgusting thing I’ve ever read and I hope whoever wrote this stays far far away from children. It also contradicts the “it is not hers and it is not his” comment - children are not possessions to be owned you absolute fuckhead.

A propos of absolutely nothing, here are all the things I love about the ‘get Erik out of prison’ sequence in XMDoFP …possibly more than the ‘get everyone out of the mansion’ scene in XMA because I’m a sucker for even the slightest hint of dadneto.

  • Why exactly do Charles and Hank have a blueprint of the Pentagon???
  • And how much of the overall plan were they able to come up with just by looking at that? Did they know how many guards would be between the elevator and Erik’s cell?? Or did they have to wait for Peter to ask him if he could do this?
  • Charles was driving and Logan hated it.
  • Charles, Logan and Hank were all crammed into the front bench of that car.
  • Peter’s mother’s car is turquoise.
  • She keeps the chain lock on the door like that’s going to stop Peter doing shit.
  • There was a car ride with Charles, Logan, Hank, and Peter. Did they stuff Peter in the back by himself? Or did someone have to sit next to him? Was it Charles, please tell me it was Charles “he’s a pain in the arse” Xavier.
  • There had to be a moment where they explained their idea to Peter but how much did that cover? Did Peter know he’d have to break the glass like that or did he just come up with that on the fly?
  • Also there’s a truncheon on the guard’s uniform that he steals - he could have just used that but since when did anyone related to Erik ever pass up the chance to be all Extra with their powers?
  • How was Erik not covered in tiny cuts and pieces of glass.
  • MIND THE GLASS means ‘get out of the fucking way,’ Erik.
  • Do you think Fassbender did that pull up all by himself or did he have help
  • Peter had his hair tucked under at the back to make it look short, since guards probably wouldn’t be allowed chin-length hair.
  • Then while Erik is climbing up out of the cell, Peter undoes his hair.
  • Erik is totally up for being rescued, even though it’s by this crazy kid who showered him in glass. “Lol don’t care who this is or what he wants, let’s blow this popsicle stand.”
  • How did those slidey doors work without any metal anyway?
  • How long did it take Peter to work out that anybody he takes on a superspeed run is in danger of whiplash? Or did Charles or Hank casually mention that maybe Peter should try not to break this dude’s neck while escaping?
  • WHIPLAAASH
  • I LOVE Erik’s little quirk of a smile when they stop in the elevator like “holy shit that’s a cool power” before the nausea catches up with him.
  • Peter changing his clothes back - were they just lying in a heap in the corner of the elevator? Because I can imagine him making a little duct tape bag with those wide gaping moments and hiding them there, taped up against the wall like the guard.
  • That guard was not paid enough for that shit
  • Charles, Hank and Logan did not tell Peter who they were breaking out. They probably told him “his name is Erik and he controls metal and we need him” but never mentioned the ‘maybe shot JFK’ thing.
  • “I don’t know karate, but I know crazy” like Erik you really like this kid, don’t you? I see you. You think his powers are cool and you’re joshing with him, even while you struggle not to puke.
  • Evan Peters’ smile is very cute <3
  • “My mom once knew a guy who could do that” Twin faces of “… wait” because both of you are smart little beans.
  • What kind of conversation did Peter have with his mother like “no you’re not alone, there other people out there who can do things like you, I knew a guy one time - well, a few times - who could control metal” but like leaving out the fact that that mutant is his father????
  • Erik robbed of the chance to go down the “and who is your mother, exactly?” road because Charles punches him in the jaw so hard he spins.
  • Peter’s face when the door opens like “hey, see I got him”
  • Peter continuing to make conversational faces at the guard while Charles and Erik bicker.
  • But also nobody else ever bats an eyelid at the guy being strapped to the wall.
  • Erik’s little nod to Charles, like was that actually agreeing “okay we won’t kill anybody” just moments before flinging a bunch of kitchen knives up into the air or???
  • Peter waiting until the very last second, when all the guns have been fired, to say “hey yeah I don’t think this was in their plan, I should probably do something. But let’s make it fun.”
  • He’s going so fast that every step he takes along the wall smashes the tiles
  • He slaps that guy and pokes the other one in the face. The speed he’s going at, that’s two very concussed humans. Maybe a broken jaw.
  • That other guy is getting a plate frisbee-d into his face
  • The bullets have barely left the barrels at this stage and Charles, Erik and Logan are still exactly as they were when Peter started.
  • How do plastic guns work anyway. Don’t guns get hot when you fire them?
  • Haha these hot plastic guns are going to smack these guys right in their faces it’s gonna be great gimme that hat
  • Oh fuck right bullets
  • He zips back to the guys EVEN FASTER than he was going before
  • He moves the bullets and this is where i get emotional because to me at least it echoes a page in the comic Magneto: Testament* where Erik and his parents are lined up by soldiers and shot, falling back into a mass grave. You see the bullets coming towards them and you infer that Erik’s powers instinctively protect him but he doesn’t really even know he has them never mind controls them so everybody else dies. My sappy, over-analytical brain loves that this time it’s his son moving the bullets. And although Peter moves the bullets heading for Charles first, he’s standing directly in front of Erik and smiles at him
  • before zipping away to stand at the opposite side of the room, just in case the guys were in any doubt who just saved their collective bacon.
  • Erik’s face going from “wtf was that” to “holy shit it was him” then looking to Charles like “who tf is this guy because really you could have just waited in the car”
  • And then secondarily looking at Logan like “I don’t know you either, who the fu- ew”
  • Ok let’s get the fuck outta here
  • Did they just casually stroll back to the parking lot, all soaking wet and with Erik in his prison PJs??
  • What was going on upstairs - did they evacuate the Pentagon when the fire alarms went off or when the alarms for Erik’s cell went off? Or is everyone else still getting on with their day? Like Hank is still on the tour or waiting in the car?
  • Holy shit there was a car ride to their airport with Charles, Logan, Hank, Erik and Peter.
  • Did they stop to get Erik some clothes? Or did they bring spares? Like it’s been ten years but Charles still has Erik’s shit lying around the house.
  • The plane has an Xavier coat of arms on the tail holy shit
  • Peter kept the hat
  • “I saw your flight plan in the cockpit, why are you going to Paris?” like they literally told him nothing about the plan just “break into the Pentagon and get Erik” and Peter’s just like “haha yeah ok sounds fun”
  • Logan, just let Erik have the newspaper, he’s been in jail for a decade he has no idea what’s going on.
  • “Take it slow” hahahahahahahahahahaha I wonder what ever happened to that poor car. Can Peter even drive? Like it wouldn’t take him long to learn, and he’d have killer reflexes but like why would he need to drive anywhere???
  • “You’re going to find this hard to believe but you and Charles send me here from the future.” Erik’s face like What The Actual Fuck, it’s been a really weird day today and that’s still the biggest crock of shit I ever heard.

The end, mostly. I could go on like, did Peter ever admit to his mother he helped break Magneto out of jail and what kind of chewing out did he get? That guard who was taped to the elevator wall, like, did he get shot by the plastic bullets? Or was he just totally shellshocked by the whole experience and when people question him afterwards he’s just like “nuh-uh, that guy could be anywhere, listening, and I wouldn’t even know he was there until after he got me so no I ain’t talking.” “you mean Lehnsherr?” “what? No, Lehnsherr’s the least of your worries. It’s his friends you have to look out for.”

*Magneto: Testament is a really good comic. And by good I mean harrowing and intense.

LoudAnnoying Twitch Stream Sentence Starters
   
Taken from the Chocobros ( minus Gladio ) livestream-!

  • I’m going out with my friends to get married.
  • I’m gonna look up because I’m cute.
  • Is it supposed to be making that noise?
  • Oh, hi there opening~
  • QUICK SAY THE CATCH PHRASE WE’RE LOSING THEM.
  • Oh my god, this is great!
  • I’m glad to be looking at his butt, I’m glad we’re down here, but I’d like to get back up…
  • The girls have had their fill of Gladio’s butt, now…
  • Thanks for the fan service.
  • We have to find a new recipe.
  • Don’t take a shot- it’s a Wednesday night, I know you have work tomorrow!
  • You got the map just for running away from her!
  • Oh, we could pick an outfit!
  • Oh man, I’m so sad my dad’s dead.
  • All of my dreams, and also a nightmare…
  • That looks like it’s on sale for 50% off at Express…
  • That’s for garden parties, of course..
  • Look at Noctberto.
  • We’re just hanging out with a thousand of our closest friends…
  • That sombrero really slowed you down.
  • That’s like, eight or nine tacos in.
  • Somebody just called you a n00b…
  • You’re leaving your friends to die!
  • Don’t tell anybody…. it looks like a big ding dong…
  • I saved your ass there!
  • Yeah, that’s kinda messed up, right?
  • ‘allo, guvnah!
  • My you is terrible…
  • I love that he’s like, the most tragic character- all his friends are dead. Just… Dave.
  • You make that toast.
  • What a creep!
  • I’m just looking at you fecks.
  • What a crock a shit
  • Those weren’t words. You just made Japanese sounds.
  • We’re trapped in catchphrase hell….
  • -cacophony of screams-
  • It’s a hard Noct life for us.
  • Why does every woman have midriff…?
  • ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT, LIFE IS A SERIES OF CHOICES-
  • Run like you stole something!
  • Where is my catchphrase!?
  • Take the game out, burn it.
  • I’m taking a poll!
  • …. you wrote got it, didn’t you?
  • Five Nights at Kenny’s…
  • Look at his Jesus sandals!
  • He’s clearly a murderer.
  • His pants are tight…
  • Let’s just make him a really hard Italian stereotype.
  • Sweet jammin’ custard!
  • Massage the fish to unlock the secret ending!
  • Did you cook the kitty’s fish? How dare you?!
  • CAN THEY HEAR ME PEEING!?
  • That cat just showed you it’s butthole.
  • Everyone loves your laugh, by the way. It gives them life.
  • Massage or riot-!
  • Why is this happening?!
  • It’s from my days in Milan, boys.
  • Is that your boyfriend!?
  • So where’s the Colossal Titan…?
  • You’re best girl.
  • I’VE COME UP WITH A NEW RECIPEH.
  • JUST TURN THE PLAYSTATION OFF. JUST TEAR IT OUT OF THE WALL.

ignitesthestars  asked:

han disapproving of the OTP

He doesn’t get it.

Jyn’s- well, okay. He doesn’t think anyone this side of the Inner Rim would ever call Jyn fun, but she’s likable enough. Good to be around in the field.

Not a total…whatever Andor is.

“Am I boring you, General?”

Han looks up from the console. Cassian Andor stares back. He doesn’t know if he imagined a slight sass on his new military rank. Andor was like that. Always a mild feeling of being attacked but never the documented evidence of it.

(Leia had called him out on it once.
”You’re upset because you think he hurt your feelings,” she had observed.
“It’s not that. The guy doesn’t like me!”
A long, pointed stare.)

He rolls his shoulders. Flashes a grin that’s won him a lot of friends in cantinas. “A little.”

Cassian returns the expression. A mirror image, and Han has never felt so disarmed. “Then let’s make it quick.” A warm inflection that Han could swear is directly taken from his own voice filters into Andor’s next statement. “Get you to your pazaak games on time.”

Force, he’s creepy.

“S…ure,” he says after a moment. Because what’s he gonna do, argue on leaving a debriefing early?

Andor’s smile lingers on his face long enough to be convincingly genuine. Kriffing spies. “Pathfinders will be deployed in these quadrants.” The screen flickers, red dots appearing on landing zones. “We need these parameters secured-”

Han waves his hand dismissively. “I’ll read that in the pamphlet later.”

A long silence. Andor quietly clicks off the holodisplay. His face is…so neutral. Far too quiet fingers shuffle a stack of datapads. 

“Then I suppose we’re done here.”

Han feels like he’s messed up. He shouldn’t, because this guy’s only a Major. General beats Major. That was in the pamphlets, too.

The smart-ass invitation is out before he can stop himself. “Guessing you don’t want to go play cards?”

The corners of Andor’s eyes creased. The impression of smiling. “Another time, General Solo.”

“You can just call me Han, y’know. Jyn does.”

For some reason, the silence feels tenser. Like Han isn’t supposed to acknowledge the guy’s got a personal life or something. Or maybe Han’s not supposed to be in it. But Jyn’s under his command in the Pathfinders, they’ve talked before. 

Andor gives a slight dip of his chin. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting with Princess Organa.”

So neutral. And a crock of grade-A bantha shit.

Major,” Han dismisses with definite, documentable sass on the rank.



“I don’t get it,” Han tells Jyn straight-up at the card game that he is, in fact, early for. 

She lays down a +2. “Get what?”

“You and Andor.” He flips over a +4. Shit.

“What is there to get.” She adds a +1. Shit!

“He doesn’t like me,” Han states.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

He scowls. Folds.

Jyn doesn’t quite smirk. But it’s real kriffing close.

“I’m sorry he hurt your feelings,” she says kindly as she mercilessly takes his money.

Han glares.
Maybe he does get it.

“Customer service” is such a crock of shit. No, the customer is NOT always right. Sometimes the customer is just an asshole, but will receive no repercussions for acting like so due to the fundamentally idiotic concept that is “customer service.”

I’m sorry but without us employees there would be no one to keep this business running, no place for you to purchase your goods/services. Therefore, you shouldn’t be such an ungrateful snot rag.

I shouldn’t have to sugar coat anything to attempt to make you feel warm and fuzzy when you’re acting like a cold, heartless prick.

I shouldn’t have to smile at you and kindly help you while you insult me, my work ethic, and my coworkers.

“Customer service” doesn’t please the customers; customers are inherently selfish and greedy. They are rarely pleased, even after getting what they want.

All “customer service” does is dehumanize employees and make them cynics.

“Customer service” is the sum total of everything wrong in the work place.

F*** “Customer Service”

Sticky Notes

Sticky Notes | When Phil realizes Dan spends so much time in the bathroom telling himself off, he decides to take matters into his own hand’s and starts leaving Sticky Notes to cheer his best friend up. | Phan | Teen and Up | TW: Self-Hate | 2,541 Words

Disclaimer: In no way do I pretend that this is real or cast aspersions on Dan or Phil.

I have an exam due soon but then I read this prompt (x) and I just had to write it. My exam will have to wait.

Look! There’s fanart now! Thanks to hopelesslyhowell

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The idea that something needs to be complex, laboriously studied, and extensively researched in order to be successful or ‘good’ or valid or ‘real’ is a crock of swamp shit.

My most powerful magic comes from sporadic, emotional, improvised, instinctual practices that are built on the basic knowledge of many things as opposed to a deep understanding of few.

And it fucking works.

You wanna play “Baddest Biggest Strongest” go the fuck on. I’ll be over here screaming and dancing naked in my room covered in honey and stabbing an apple with a dagger.

friendly reminder that islam is toxic

its so hard to not become a misandrist when your dad is a muslim. i hate my father’s convictions so much. i just want to scream in his face, sit the fuck down youre not my fucking king. you will not marry me off to a man like you, to a muslim monster. nor do you have the right to do that. men get no say in who their adult daughters marry. men are not superior to women. men in a family are no more important than their wives. men are not the fucking supreme authority of their family. useless segregation of the sexes is fucking stupid. us girls and women have the right to go wherever we damn please without the permission of male relatives. who gets to see our beauty is up for us to decide, not you. YOU muslim men are stupid and backwards minded, not the western world. ppl wearing bikinis at the beach is not fucking “macabre” you idiot prude. god muslim culture is a crock of shit, someone pls make it disappear before it infests western societies any further. i cant wait to leave this family, go wherever i want whenever i want, dress how i want, talk with whoever i want however i want, play whatever instruments i want, cut my hair however i want, get a ton of tattoos, date ppl, be my “kafir whore” self in peace, and not see my idiot fathers ugly misogynistic face for as long as i live. fuck islam, seriously fuck it.

Learn To Appreciate Me, Reggie Mantle

Reader x Reggie Mantle

(because there has yet to be enough Reggie Mantle reads)

[READER]

Reggie Mantle. Typical jock with a douchebag persona. Likes to flirt with girls but isn’t into commitment. So why was I wasting my time pining over him, I am not sure. It all started in the summer I guess, my cousin Moose was having a beach party. Bring your own alcohol and food type. Everyone was drinking, swimming, and playing some volley ball or football. I remember when I arrived with an oversized shirt and loose shorts, becoming the butt of Reggie’s endless taunting. How satisfying it was to shut him up when I took both off to reveal my figure hugging bikini. I wasn’t prepared for all the flirting and sweet talking from him though. The day ended with me laying under Reggie Mantle, as we made out for an hour straight. He drove me home and left with a “I’ll call you”. He never called of course.

First week at school and already I’m feeling drained, I need coffee. I brushed some lint off my River Vixens uniform skirt, waiting for the damn bell to ring so I could go get lunch already. “Pssst, Grace,” A deep voice whispered from behind making me turn in my seat. Speak of the devil, it was Reggie. I wanted to tell him to fuck off but as a cheerleader I cannot exhibit such vulgar behavior. Crock of shit if you ask me. “Yes, Mantle?” I asked with a sarcastic smile. “Milkshakes later at Pop’s?” He asked confidently. I blinked at him in confusion, was he for real? Half of me was begging to say yes but I know my worth, I will not be made a fool of. “No thank you, I already have a date today at Pop’s,” Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why couldn’t you have plainly said no? His face competed into one of displeasure and… disappointment? Or is that heartbreak? Hmmmmm. I turned away and was relieved when the bell finally rang, I grabbed my bag and headed out of the class.

I should have just said no, why do I get myself into such messes? I entered Pop’s and went straight to the counter, ordering fries and a strawberry shake. I turned and scoped out who I can possibly coerce into my stupid lie. Too old. Too little. Too girly. And too broody. I saw with wide eyes Reggie’s car pull into the lot. Shit. Broody will have to do. I grabbed my fries and shake and instantly sat across Jughead Jones, mysterious and weirdo of Riverdale. He glanced up from his laptop in confusion, furrowing his brows at the sight of a ‘popular’ girl sitting with him. “ I lied about something and I need you to play along just for now and I will forever be indebted to you for this so please and thank you,” I rushed out all in one breath before Reggie entered the diner. I proceeded to let out a false and loud girly laugh, a hand over my mouth as I stared at Jughead with which I hope was lovey dovey eyes. “Thats hilarious, Juggie,” I giggled, fluttering my eyes a bit at him. Reggie was staring over here, I could feel the anger, disgust, and confusion in his glare. Jughead seemed to get a grip on what I was trying to do and simply smirked at me. “What can I say, you bring out the comedian in me,” He replied smoothly, stealing a fry from my basket. “Grace and Ted Bundy? You’re on a date with basket case here?” Reggie scoffed as he stood near me. “Don’t call him those things. Maybe you’re just jealous that he has all of my attention right now. Jughead is a way better date than you and he actually calls,” I sassed as I stood up to glare at Reggie Mantle. Jughead looked a little surprised that I was defending him when we barely knew each other but hey he was nice enough to help me out so might as well return the favor. “You passed me up for American Psycho here? Grace, I meant to call back, I just got busy with practicing for football,” Reggie replied. “Football, huh? Thanks for showing me where your priorities lie, Reggie Mantle. Now if you don’t mind, I have a date to finish with the handsome, intelligent, and talented Jughead Jones,” I finished, flipping my hair so that it slapped his chest and sitting back down. Reggie looked at Jughead murderously before finally leaving the diner. “Thanks for that, defending me when he called me those names,” Jughead said with a quick turn up of his lips. I breathed out in relief and smiled softly at him. “No problem, thanks for pretending to be my date,” I responded, drinking from my milkshake after. Strangely enough, we had a good time. He would type away from time to time but I didn’t mind, it was a nice silence. Romantically interested? No not really, I can see us hopefully becoming good friends.

Drive-In Movie Night, I sat inside my car alone, eating popcorn and drinking Cherry Coke. I didn’t mind it though, I won’t have to be bothered by the suffocating pressure to make out with someone during a film. Jughead had invited me to come, going on about how unfair it was to close the drive-in. I felt like there was more to it but decided that it wasn’t any of my business. “Grace?” That stupid deep voice that always seemed to make me melt called. I turned my head to see Reggie, leaning his head down to see inside my car. “Go away, Mantle,” I drawled with a roll of my eyes before turning to face the screen again. I could hear him open my car door and sit inside. “Are you really that moronic, I said go away,” I gritted my teeth, refusing to look at him. He probably looks gorgeous right now with that glow of the screen on his face and that stupid smirk. “I’m sorry I didn’t call okay, I should have let you know that you are more than just a summer fling. And I want to make it up to you, I want to take you out on dates and take stupid pictures of us doing basic couple shit because you’re worth it. You deserve flowers and all that mush, and if you’d let me I would give it to you all,” He confessed, the intensity in his eyes and words leaving me breathless. I stared at him in shock before closing my eyes in thought. “Please, Grace,” He murmured softly, his hand covering mines. I opened my eyes and smiled, intertwining our hands and leaning into Reggie. His eyes seemed to light up as I scooted closer to him. “One more chance, you screw this up and I am done, Reggie Mantle,” I warned as his other arm went around my shoulders. “I’ll treat you like a freaking princess, Gracie,” He promised. He kissed the top of my head making my stomach feel all tingly and floaty. I guess Reggie can be a romantic.

That there are such devices as firearms, as easy to operate as cigarette lighters and as cheap as toasters, capable at anybody’s whim of killing Father or Fats or Abraham Lincoln or John Lennon or Martin Luther King, Jr., or a woman pushing a baby carriage, should be proof enough for anybody that being alive is a crock of shit.
—  Kurt Vonnegut, Timequake

i just took a quiz and it told me that i am a loving gentle and caring person and that is a crock of horse shit. i have a billion muscles and i wear sunglasses all the time. my genitals are impressive and i dont give a fuck. im a crass thot and i love to holler all the ding dong time. and this is just the truth.

2

arrow/young justice au - artemis crock:

In which Laurel Lance makes a work trip to Gotham City and ends up becoming the foster mom of Artemis Crock.

“You went to Gotham to work a case and came back with a kid?” Thea asks, gaping at Laurel.

The blonde girl standing next to Laurel adjusts the duffel bag strap on her shoulder and straightens up, chest puffing out. “I’m not a kid, I’m sixteen.” She bites out with a surly expression.

Laurel wraps an arm around the teenager’s shoulders. “This is Artemis. She’s gonna be with staying with us now.” She grins, “I’m sure you two will find some common ground - rebellious youth, superior archery skills, and you’re both fond of me. This is gonna work.”

Okay…… this has the typical blah blah blah fan service blah blah blah. But what struck me was the final part. I’m assuming this twat was talking about the Doctor at Eichen; speaking about the Eichen rescue…. STILES LITERALLY DID FUCK ALL! Scott and Liam took care of the orderlies… Kira and Malia took care of the power grid… Parrish fucking did a lot: burnt through the Mountain Ash, took care of the Chimera Pack, took into Lydia’s nuclear scream and carried her out. What did Stiles do? He flirted with Theo in sewers for most part then came along and told her to shut and dragged her along until Parrish showed up. Then came the bullshit scenes where they took the slowest possible car and then a scene that went against the laws of physics just to make it happen.


Sooooo “did everything he could”….. is a crock of shit. Teen Wolf… I get that you’re trying your hardest to make it seem like Stydia wasn’t pulled out of your asses at the last minute (fan service). But come one…. you like to treat us, the Fandom, like we’re idiots. But we’re not. We’re not all like the Stydia Fandom.

This article also goes on to say how Malia still cares for Stiles and has to see him with Lydia now. Because obviously TW hasn’t put her through already. You have the guy she loves/d play her and use her. You have her friend turn into a snake and go after said guy. And now this; it also says something bad is going to happen to her so she can’t leave Beacon Hills….. this fucking show honestly. God I wish I wasn’t attached to certain characters and wanting to see how they end up. This fucking show needs to die ASAP.

i sometimes forget that one of the benefits of being a designer for over a decade is the developed ability to disconnect from the work i’m doing, to detach any personal investment from the absolute nonsense being delivered to my inbox by blustering know-nothing VP’s, and I can instead say “Sure thing!” whereas five years ago i’d have agonized over a 4-paragraph response that wouldn’t have been read anyway explaining in-depth why X is a bad idea, why my suggestion has empirical user-study evidence behind its efficacy, why, in more diplomatic terms, their half-thought-out crock of shit ideas are why their company’s revenue continues to decline

These People Are Not Interested In Your Expertise, The Under-Informed Male Ego Is Boundless And Immutable, You Are The Pixel Monkey And That Is Genuinely Fine

this is a job and design integrity isn’t a necessary component to the paycheck, and none of this is worth my frustration and i feel like this is something people don’t want to admit or espouse, but it’s actually? fine? to sell out? particularly after you’ve spent ~12 years trying to convince people, usually unsuccessfully, that your suggestions are not opinions, but facts of design and usability, which while true, is really just a thin veneer for wanting to be recognized for that expertise, to be taken seriously

life is SO much better when you realize that kind of credence just… doesn’t matter to you anymore