fixing our mistake

the one that was alone

“And so I took fixing our mistake into my own hands… And I made you all forget, I made the world forget what we did.”

Warning Call | CHVRCHES / Holy Branches | Radical Face  
Another Story | The Head and the Heart  / The Hands that Thieve | Toh Kay
A Maker of My Time | The Paper Kites /  Offering | Black City Lights / Blame | Bastille
Thousand Eyes | Of Monsters and Men / Stand By Me | Mona  / Sound the Bells | Dessa

Reggie x Reader: Did You Miss Me?

Warnings: none
Requested: yes

*your POV*

For the record, Reggie Mantle had broken up with me 2 months ago, but for him it’s only been a month. For the first month after the break up he constantly called me and provoked me. He wanted me back, he didn’t want to believe that we were over. But we were and there was nothing he could do. People drift apart but when it’s only one of you that feels it, your heart breaks for the other person. That’s how I felt about Reggie.

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S01.E07 - Sirens

Written by Laura McCreary and storyboarded by Christophe Yoshida, cover by Gaëlle “Galou” Autin.

Ah, Sirens. :) This episode is a little goofy, and was mostly an excuse to put our princesses on a boat and have them go undersea. 

It was absurdly expensive and complicated to do an underwater episode at this stage of the production : it was only the 7th episode ! Everyone was still trying to understand our characters, see where the show was going, how it would look like, etc. 

In Sirens, we experimented a lot, while having little to no room for mistakes (since we wouldn’t be able to fix our mistakes due to our tiny schedule & budget). Kind of risky, right ? But thanks to that, we ended up making a very unique episode within the show, and I think it’s a good thing. 

We could push Auriana’s boy crazyness (to the point it reminded me Usagi and Minako from Sailor Moon) while having her save the day and not be a hindrance. 

And we could prove to ourselves that, while Iris was to remain the main Princess, we could also have the main focus on another princess and it would still work. This lesson in particular would be very valuable for the rest of the show.

An Erik Lehnsherr Prompt: “What? You think you are the only one suffering?” & “This is hard for me, too.”

Originally posted by harlieco

“Just because you are suffering, Erik, it doesn’t mean you have to be an asshole.” your voice drew Erik away from his thoughts.

He had just a major fight with Charles. A student had made a joke about Chemistry but Erik had perceived it as a joke about his days as Magneto and Erik had attacked the student. No one dared to part them, fearing that they would get caught in the fight too.

Thankfully, Charles had arrived just at the right moment and he had spent the following hour in his office yelling at Erik.

“I just thought…” “Whatever you thought, you could have ended with talking. Dialogue, Erik!” you scolded him. He closed his eyes, sighing as he brought his hands to his face.

“You are right. But, what do you know about suffering?” he said as he got up.

“What? You think you are the only one suffering?” you shot back at him.

He turned around and cocked his brow.

“You don’t know my story, Erik.” You pushed him and went inside. He was quick enough to catch your hand and turn you around to face him.

“Then, tell me.” He said in a low voice. You sighed and complied.

“The night my powers kicked in, they killed all of my family. In fact, my powers killed my whole village. Pleased?” you pushed yourself out of his grip.

He looked at you leaving in shock. “I didn’t know.” He muttered to himself.

You avoided him for the following two days, and you would avoid him even more if he hadn’t chased you in the hall after one of your classes.

“(Y/N)! Wait!” you sped up but being a jerk he controlled the metal in your belt and stopped you in your tracks.

“I shouldn’t have spoken in such way to you the other day.” He reached you. “I was a jerk and I am sorry.”

“You weren’t a jerk only to me, Lehnsherr. Charles, Joe and everyone in this School really.” You snarled.

“Did you apologize to them?” he looked out the window, trying to avoid your judgmental gaze. “I didn’t think so.”

You realized you were free and you started walking away.

“I will. I will apologize to them. I will try to fix myself. I will try to be a better man.” He promised. ‘For you.’ He said in his mind, forgetting you had telepathic powers as well. You smirked.

You sighed and turned around. “This is hard for me too, Erik. This is hard for everyone. But, we try our best to carry on and fix our mistakes. So, if you give me your word, I might believe you.” You smiled and he smiled too.

“I give you my word. To my mother.” He said and you knew he was true in his words.

“Thank you.” You said and kissed his cheek, leaving him in a flustered shock.

Turn the Page

Answering the call for Pines family moments, consider this…

The mystery twins have already departed for Piedmont, but the Stan twins are still working on getting their boat plans off the ground. They’re staying in the Mystery Shack during final preparations. This means they spend a good portion of time plotting together, gathering equipment, having memory sessions for Stan… but Ford still spends a decent amount of time down in the lab by himself.

There’s a lot of machinery that needs to be dismantled and taken out, and he’s still working out which things he wants to save and which things he should toss. He doesn’t tell the others to stay away anymore (outside of when he’s handling things that have vaguely face-melting properties when handled incorrectly), but Stan still sticks to the upper floor. Ford assumes the lab isn’t full of fun memories for Stan, so he leaves it alone and continues to work solo. Until a day when he takes a break and flips through his own pre-portal entries of the restored third journal,

Ford lands on the page where he’s writing about asking Stanley to come. “It’s ironic that the only person I can trust is the least trustworthy person I know…”

He winces. Yeah, that was… pretty harsh, in retrospect. He’s slightly embarrassed that it took him so many years to come around from that point of view. But that’s all in the past, and they’re moving on now. They don’t have to worry about that kind of–

His eyes skip to the doodle of the science fair project he left at the bottom of the page. Funny. He remembers drawing it, but he doesn’t remember scribbling it out.

Ford stiffens, realization dawning over his face.

Crap. Stan read this page.

He has no clue when it happened, but Ford isn’t sure that matters. He feels awful. After a few moments of hemming and hawing about whether or not to dredge this up, he stops pacing, sighs, and decides he owes his brother another apology.

Stan waves the effort off initially. “You’re the one askin’ me to live in close quarters with you, for extended periods of time, on arctic waters. It’s fine, Ford. Obviously, you trust me now.”

Ford acknowledges this, a little relieved it’s going so well.

Then Stan adds, more softly, that it wasn’t entirely wrong of younger Ford to think that way. He breaks eye contact for a moment. “…I did end up pushing you through,” he says quietly. Holds up a hand before Ford can interject. “It was an accident. We both messed up. I get that. It’s just… after I got burned, you stopped fighting. And I didn’t. I was angry and in pain, and for a second, I just wanted to hurt you back. Heh. Guess I overdid it.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “…Ford, I could’ve killed you. And even though all I wanted to do was to take that back, it took three decades to do it. Thirty freaking years of your life. I did everything I could think of, but…” He shrugs, straightening and rolling his shoulders. “Anyways. I guess I’m sayin’ that I never expected you to look up to me.  When I found your third book, felt kinda like I deserved that part. I’m just glad we’re past it now.”

He nudges Ford’s shoulder, trying to lighten the moot. “It’s good to have the brains of the operation back. Y'know?”  

Ford hesitates. “Stanley,” he says, frowning. “…I do look up to you.”


“No, really. I’ll admit, it took me a long time to come around. Even after you- well, especially after you opened the portal.” Ford rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, remembering a page he wrote after his return- one he hopes Stan hasn’t read. Something about the maintenance work Stan ran on the portal looking like a monkey had done it.

“I had college instructors, colleagues, research publications, and an interdimensional demon that went into the knowledge that let me figure out the portal,” Ford continues. “You didn’t have a high school diploma or even one third my personal notes. Yet, somehow, you taught yourself enough to keep everything functional.”

Ford remembers seeing the wear marks on Journal 1. Pages long since dog-eared from hundreds of re-reads.

“You never wore glasses before,” he comments. “Even though you needed them. I’m going to take a stab in the dark here and say you caved because of all the research you needed to do.”

Stan shrugs uncomfortably. “…You write real small, okay? So I got some glasses. So what?”

“You changed a lot about yourself so you could help me.” Ford waves at the shack. “You changed everything. You kept working at fixing a mistake- our mistake- for years after I’d given up entirely. You brought me home.”

Ford rests a hand on Stan’s shoulder. “You had to become ‘the brains of the operation.’ And you did that, all on your own.” A small smile. “I’m proud of you, Stan.“ 

Stan returns the smile hesitantly. “Heh, thanks. So is this gonna be one of those touchy-feely moments where we both hug and start- Oh boy, here we go.”

Ford hugged him on impulse and is making a concerted effort not to regret said decision. He feels incredibly uncomfortable- this isn’t a form of contact he’s had much of for a very long while- but he knows Stan is fond of it. After a moment, Stan confirms this by returning the hug, and Ford feels himself relax into it a little.

Okay, maybe it’s not that uncomfortable after all.

“I’m proud of you too, Poindexter,” Stan says quietly. “Mostly, though… I’m just glad you’re back.”

Ford chuckles. “Yeah. Me too.”

From that point on, Stan starts coming down to the lab to help Ford dismantle and move things. Ford doesn’t quite connect the dots… but Stan has always mentally attributed that space to Ford alone. He pushed that out of mind while working solo, but after his brother returned, he felt suddenly out of place and awkward surrounded by all the “smart-guy stuff.” He’s always kind of thought of himself as the dumb twin, after all.

That little encouragement from Ford goes a long way. Stan stops selling himself so short, and he’s able to forgive himself for something he didn’t even realize he was still holding against himself.

Stan moves the journals out of the way, one day, while they’re clearing out another corner. Journal 1 gleams up at him.

He doesn’t give it a passing thought.

((Also, this is the anon from the All Star family tattoos thing. ^_^;; I don’t have a tumblr yet, so pardon while I just submit these enormous things to you directly.))

-This is a real sweet ficlet!! Thank you so much for sharing! I honestly cannot get enough of these two old sea grunks talking it out and getting along with each other!

dancepartysolosolo  asked:

Your rant about nozomi not having a proper center got me thinking, how about an angsty fic about why Umi never gave her a true Center in a song?

Originally posted by jacktheelephant

I hope you’re prepared for this spontaneous drabble because your ask broke my heart and I needed to mend it.

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Morning Routine

 I got the idea fot this fic from the fic Morning Madness from @maydayparade8123

This is a Percabeth future fic. It could be either canonverse or AU. It’s your pic.

      Charles Jackson was used to a morning routine. His mom would wake him up and get him ready to school so they could have breakfast with Daddy. Then, they would get to the parking lot together and his parents would kiss and part ways with an “I love you”. His dad would drive him to kindergarten before going to work.

       But one morning was a bit different.

       Mommy woke him up as he was used to. He got dressed and took his backpack to the kitchen. Daddy was cooking breakfast.

       “Good morning, Charlie.” His dad served him pancakes and ruffled his hair.

       “Good morning Daddy. Where’s Mommy?”

       “I’m here, honey” She kissed the boy’s cheek and then her husband’s.

       His parents took their places on the table. Mommy said something about an important building she would be designing and Daddy asked about Uncle Frank and Aunt Hazel’s next visit.

       After breakfast, the three of them took the elevator together, still chatting and smiling. Everything seemed normal, but that’s when something went wrong.

       When they reached the parking lot, his parents kissed and parted ways. Mommy went to her car and Daddy went to his. Charlie followed his dad to the car, like he always did, but couldn’t help feeling weird. He felt like something was missing.

       His dad was parking the car when it clicked. Mommy and Daddy hadn’t said they loved each other this morning. But they still did, didn’t they? The five-year-old decided to ask.

       “Daddy?” He called.

       “What’s up, kiddo?”

Charlie thought about the answer Uncle Leo had taught him: ‘the sky’. But this was a very serious matter and he decided it wasn’t time for jokes.

“Why didn’t you told Mommy you loved her this morning?”

“I didn’t?” Daddy scratched his head, puzzled.

The boy confirmed he hadn’t, shaking his head.

“Gods, this is not right! Do you think I should call her, just to make sure she knows?” Daddy asked worriedly.

Charlie nodded. He felt relieved with his dad’s reaction. His parents still loved each other, they had just forgotten to say it out loud. But now that he had notified Daddy, it would be an easy fix.

Daddy picked up his phone and called Mommy. Both his parents had different phones from most people. Uncle Leo had made them and Charlie thought they were really cool. Daddy put the call on speaker.

“Hey, Percy, is everything okay? I just arrived at my office.”

“Actually, Beth, it’s not. Charlie just told me I commited a terrible mistake this morning.” He explained.

“What happened?” Mommy sounded worried.

“Apparently, I didn’t tell you I love you this morning. Just wanted to make sure you know it.”

Mommy chuckled, she must have been really relieved with Daddy’s call. Charlie felt really proud of himself for remembering them.

“I know. I love you, too”

“Good.” Daddy smiled. “By the way, what do you want for dinner?”

“Whatever Charlie wants, I mean, he just fixed our terrible mistake.”

“I want pizza.” He declared without hesitation.

“Then pizza it is.” Mommy decided. “I have to go now, boys. Love you.”

The call ended. Daddy took a deep breath.

“I feel much better now, don’t you?” Charlie agreed. “Good, now let’s get you to Ms. Aldrin before your class start.”

Bayroot Academy Part One

“Ouch!” I look up to see what just caused the semi sharp pain to pulse through my pinkie toe. My eyes glance from my foot to his, and I slowly trace the outline of my new English teacher, Mr. Andrew Cox. I see his muscular thighs and trim torso as my gaze escalates, and I linger just a tad too long on the biceps that are bulging out of his short sleeves. Then Mr. Cox of Bayroot Academy for Young Men’s eyes lock with mine and I think for a second that I may have fallen in love. His mouth starts moving and all I can concentrate on are his luscious lips. After he’s done speaking and I’ve stopped swooning I put two and two together and realize that he just mumbled an apology and is already on his way to finding a seat in the stuffy auditorium. My first real interaction with the hottest god on campus and I didn’t even open my mouth - way to go.

Honestly I don’t think Mr. Cox would ever go for a guy like me, even if he were gay and he wasn’t my teacher and a senior in high school. After all I’m just Connor Bradshaw, mediocre at everything and just kind of floating through life. At least I’m in decent shape; for someone who’s 6 foot, weighing in at 160lbs isn’t bad. But my brown hair and eyes do add an extra element of blandness to my overall look. Maybe that’s just my opinion though. Everyone’s always calling me handsome, or hot, or cute, or whatever but frankly I don’t see it. I’m just me I guess.

Anyways seats are running out fast and I know I’m running out of time so I pop a squat next to my friend, quarterback Ross Johnson. Although Ross has his some nice assets that I wouldn’t mind gawking at, I search the crowd and quickly spot Mr. Cox seated two rows ahead of me. I stare at the back of his glorious head; even his neatly trimmed hair gets me going. Or at least it does until Dean Snow, a pale, stumpy middle aged man with an obvious toupee, taps into the microphone demanding our attention.

“I know this assembly seems rather out of the blue, but I have some very special news for the students and faculty of Bayroot Academy. I’m sure all of you have heard the rumors that we will be the newest ‘guinea pigs’ for Feeding America’s Teens, and I’m here to confirm that we will, in fact, be introducing their new nutrition plan! We have our new director of activities, George Walker, here to speak to you all on the matter today.” Dean Snow gestures for this really big dude, who I guess is George Walker, to come on stage. The guy must be at least 400lbs of fat and can barely waddle up the 5 steps without his shirt riding up under his plump moobs. He has a thick goatee and is surprisingly tan for a fat guy. Ross nudges me and goes “Shit, what a fatass.” We both snigger while George pulls his shirt from under his fat rolls and takes the microphone. He speaks breathily and rather slow like he has to think really hard about the words he has to form before they come out.

“Hello boys and gentlemen,” he starts, “I’ll not only be your director of activities this year, but I’ll also be Bayroot’s Feeding America’s Teens official advisor. I’ll be in charge of applying any and all new changes to the school and making sure everyone’s happy. If you have any problems at all relating to the school’s or to F.A.T.’s services, feel free to talk with me any time.” George doesn’t seem like the smartest man but he’s nice enough. Waddling back off the stage, he hands the microphone to Dean Snow who then ends the assembly and dismisses us.

It’s only the second day of school and they’re already popping up with surprise announcements. That’s pretty typical of them, but I could care less. More pointless assemblies means more time out of class for me. When I get back to my dorm room I can see my roommate Cameron seems to agree because he’s taking what looks like his fourth or fifth hit off a bong he smuggled in.

“Damn dude, did you even go to the assembly?” I ask casually.

“Nah man. Why would I when I leave when I have everything I need in here?” he counters. And it’s a good point too. He’s got a mini fridge set up between our beds and our closet filled with snacks. Cameron’s been my roommate since freshman year (the first year you can come to school here at Bayroot Academy) and now that we’re seniors I’ve come to accept that he can eat like a horse and smoke all the weed in the world and won’t gain a pound. You’d never be able to guess how much he eats with that sly frame of his. He winks at me with his light blue eyes and adjusts his thick, sandy hair with his hands and asks me if I want a hit, but I decline. If I get the munchies I’ll be waddling like George in no time.

The school grind starts back up. I meet up with my friends I haven’t seen over the summer and even try to hit the gym a few times, but the doors are locked every time I try; everything’s just like it was.

A few days later I’m walking to English and I realize that Feeding America’s Teens has been bringing in these little food kiosks. The food joints seem to be popping up all over campus, ranging from burger stations to churro carts, and the prices are insanely low. I mean, who’s heard of a 50 cent burger, especially when they’re the size of your face? I’m not complaining though. In fact I even pick up two, one for me and one for Cameron if he decides to show up today, on the walk to class. I easily eat mine on the way there and walk into the classroom to see a groggy Mr. Cox reaching into a box of donuts. I think about other places I’d like to see him reach into as I take my seat. My future husband starts lecturing and it’s significantly harder to concentrate than it has been before, but I can’t figure out why. My stomach is kinda full, but I’m craving something greasy. I reach into my bag for that 2nd burger knowing that Cameron stayed up way too late gaming in his friend Taylor’s room to come to first period. As I’m unwrapping the burger I realized that I’m not the only one creating sounds of wrinkling paper. The sound of wrappers is overwhelming and I can’t think clearly because literally everyone in the class is eating something. I look around the classroom and see Ross the quarterback digging into a bag of fries, and Taylor, Cam’s freind, drinking a chocolate shake, even my health nut friend Bernie is nibbling on a giant turkey leg. Normally small snacks are allowed but I’m sure this mini feast has to be breaking some kind of rule. No one else seems to notice and my stomach begs for attention so I start on the 2nd burger and watch Mr. Cox work on that box of donuts for the rest of the period.

Lunch rolls around and the cafeteria is a madhouse. With food so cheap and rumors of prices skyrocketing, everyone feels like they have to get their fill while they can still afford it. My friend Larry, captain of the soccer team, has gotten trays worth of Feeding America’s Teens’ Taco Bell knock off food every day since they first announced F.A.T.’s arrival.

“You know we haven’t actually exercised at practice yet,” Larry says with a slight Mexican accent. Bits of meat are dripping out of his full mouth. “Coach Clark just has us watching repeats of last year’s failed games and tells us how to fix our mistakes. It’s boring as shit in there. Yesterday that fat guy George came in and asked coach if we needed a buffet table in the locker room for bulking season. We seriously all thought he was kidding; it’s obvious that sack of lard has never played a sport in his life… But coach took the Fatass seriously!”

“What’d Coach say?” Cameron asks.

“What do you think he said? The lazy fuck said ‘Hell yeah!’” Larry was obviously annoyed. Soccer is his life, he wants to play for Mexico in the Fifa World Cup one day, and if he isn’t in his prime shape for his first game this season he’ll be pissed. But I don’t see exercise happening any time soon. Coach Clark doubles as our government teacher and last period he shoved in a tape about the Declaration of Independence and polished off a tray of hot dogs while the class watched.

“And Ross told me that the football team’s only playing the last two games this year,” I add on, “I mean, who’s ever heard of a season only lasting for two weeks?” Ross sits next to me in English and we’ve been talking about all of this lately. He’s a lot more intelligent than you’d think but he’s kind of all wrapped up in football.

“This whole thing is ridiculous; I don’t even have a 4th period anymore,” Bernie adds on. “Ever since they got rid of Nutrition class I just don’t have a period there on my schedule. When I asked the advisors what I should do about it they referred me to George and he told me to just talk a long lunch… So lately I’ve been chilling here and checking out what’s good.” And apparently ‘what’s good’ are those chocolate bars he’s been shoveling down his throat. Bernie by far has the darkest complexion out of all of us, and his shortly cropped hair coupled with his lean muscle he looks totally badass. But it’s kind of hard to take him seriously when he’s apparently lost all self-control.

But maybe it’s not just him who’s been feeling a little weak lately. I have a hunch that that the overindulgence won’t be stopping any time soon.


This morning in English Ross the quarterback told me that the school finally finished renovating the gym. He said he could really use the exercise because he’s packed on a few pounds since that assembly we had a month and a half ago, but I don’t think he’s the only one who’s been packing on a few. It seems that everyone here at Bayroot has been getting a little… dumpy. Even my roommate Cameron, who’s never gained an ounce in his life before this semester, is growing his own little gut. I guess the munchies were bound to catch up to him. I know for sure that my uniform pants are getting pretty tight so I agree to go to the gym with Ross. I invited Cam and he laughed and said he’d rather open a new bag of chips and chill in the dorm. Later I ask soccer boy Larry and he says that he’ll already be joining Cam tonight instead. Apparently without FIFA to motivate him he just doesn’t care about his team anymore.

Ross texts me to meet him at 7:00 pm for the grand reopening, and I’m there on time dressed in my stretchy pants for the occasion. Well, partly for the occasion, partly because most of my shorts dig into my sides and it’s getting annoying. My little roll of flab is nothing compared to what some of the guys have been putting on, though. I figure if I can stay at least slightly behind the average weight of the boys here, I’ll be fine. I try to get into the gym but the doors are locked and a pretty sizable group of plumped up guys have gathered in front, waiting to see the new equipment that’ll hopefully save their waistlines. It’s Friday night, so a lot of us are just looking for something to do, and none of us have had any sort of physical activity because of the coaches. I search the crowd and find Ross and we make small talk. He tells me that over the past month the football coach, Coach Simmons, basically told the football team that they need to bulk up and take a good long break so that they’re rested up for the first game next Friday.

“Yeah so basically we’re fucked, but I’m hoping Coach Simmons’ plan will work. Maybe with the added girth we’ll just shove them back to the goal line” he explains.

“Dude yeah and it sucks because you only have two games to prove yourself, but you’ve definitely been bulking pretty well. I mean the whole school has to put props to you, man.” A month ago Ross was like 180lbs of muscle, but he’s passed the big 200 and is probably creeping up on 215 now. He’s definitely what I would call beefy, and it looks amazing on his 6’4” frame despite his new stretchmarks. While I’m admiring Ross’s plump physique, George shows up, bulldozing his way through the crowd. He unlocks the door, giggles a bit, and shouts, “ENJOY YOUR GYM!” Despite George’s sketchy laughing, we all rush inside to see the month of renovations. What we find isn’t a gym though; it’s a room lit like an arcade and carpeted wall to wall. Instead of ellipticals and treadmills, the floor is littered with big, poofy couches sitting 5 feet across from TV’s hooked up with the latest video game systems. There are even little coffee tables separating the TVs and couches. Buffet tables line most of the walls, and on the opposite end of the room a line of gaming computers await, equipped with headsets and the works. Ironically the old motivational posters are still plastered to the walls, displaying slogans like “No Pain, No Gain,” and “If You Had Fun, You Won!”

Ross and I gaze in amazement, “Okay man, let’s work out!” he spits out and speed walks to the buffet tables, belly bouncing out of the bottom of his shirt. I notice that his ass is taking up way more room in his skin tight elastic shorts than it used to, but I’m not surprised because of how much this beast eats. The cafeteria custodians hate him because he can easily create a tower of trash in the 30 mins we have to eat. I follow his lead and we pile our plates with tonight’s mile high lasagna and bread sticks. The gym is free to all students at Bayroot, so I figure this’ll probably become the new hot spot for all of my friends and I. Ross and I find us a couch and both grab a controller and start alternating between playing online and devouring bite after bite of the delicious Italian food.  The lasagna melts in my mouth and the bread is soft like buttery little tasty pillow sticks. I eat and play and eat and play until I finally finish my third plate without realizing it. I’m full as hell, even with my growing appetite. I drop my controller and set down my plate, too full to move. A handsome man in a tux walks by and replaces my empty plate with a full one and I instantly realize that I hadn’t gotten up to get the other two plates. I ask Ross if he noticed.

“Nah but I don’t care, they can keep… *belch* bringing me lasagna forever, I love this shit.”

“Here, you want mine?” I ask, handing him my plate.

“Do you even have to ask? I’ve already finished off four and I don’t plan on stopping soon,” He looks like he’s finished off four too. Slumped back into the couch, his bloated belly is sticking out an inch or so from his shirt and his hairy belly is poking out even more than it was earlier. It looks blue in the lighting, and I can hear that his breathing is heavier than normal over the sounds of a few dozen gamers. His angular face has softened significantly from the added fat and his double chin is very prominent at the angle he’s sitting. His little bit of stubble is getting all caught up in the rolls, too. He still has some of his football muscle, but it’s all bloated with an inch or so of pudge, and he looks truly blissful sitting there stuffing his face. I’m getting tired so I tell Ross I’m gonna hit the hay and make my way to the dorms before I start craving more lasagna. I don’t even think he heard me.

I open my dorm room door and am instantly attacked by two shirtless bloated boys screaming “HEY! HEY CONNOR YOU’VE GOTTA SEE THIS!” Both Cameron and Larry excitedly waddle over to the closet doors with some difficulty. Their bellies are so full that they have to swing their legs a little to get around the pain.  I can’t imagine what they’ve eaten to get themselves so stuffed. They each open a closet door and with a cry of “VOILA!” A soda machine is revealed, alongside a thin rectangular slot built into the closet wall next to a control panel.

“Connor we got a soda machine AND a pizza button!” Cameron enthusiastically tells me.

“Oh my God that’s amazing! But damn how many pizzas have you had? And what’s a pizza button?”

“Four! Plus a shit ton of soda!” Larry answers. I want to ask if that’s four collective pizzas or four pizzas for each of them, but I’m a little afraid of the answer.

“And this…” Cam says,“is a fucking pizza button!” He turns to the wall and presses buttons on the control pannel. I very cheesy, very greasy pizza rolls out of the thin slot and into Cam’s hands. He plops down on his bed and moans a little because of the bloated pain. He shoves a slice into his mouth.

“Also George came by and told us we have servants now, dude you have no idea how good we have it,” Larry says, and I guess that explains those guys bringing us food in the gym. I fill them in on the new gym and Larry really wants to go right now but it’s too late.

“Okay if we can’t go tonight, I at least have to abuse the pizza button one more time,” Larry reasons.

“Well if he gets to, I want to too,” Cameron, somewhat aggressively, complains, still chewing a slice from the pizza he just ordered. He crosses his arms over his soccer ball sized belly. Maybe Larry can’t seem to get his eyes off Cam’s gut because of the ball it resembles.

“Alright cool you have one too then, I’m going to bed,” I say, done with the two of them and still very full myself. I crawl under the covers and Larry punches a few buttons and two pizzas fly out of the slit in the wall in clean cardboard boxes. I fall asleep watching the two pigs stuffing each other on Cameron’s bed and squirting soda into each other’s mouths from a 15 ft soda fountain hose equipped with a nozzle and everything. Right before I pass out I notice two ripped pairs of pants on the floor and think that that’s going to be a problem.

anonymous asked:

I found that drawing of Liam that person made for Pengy cute too. What I don't get is why they think it's bad.

Oh, that’s clearly artist bias. It happens with a lot more things than just art, but when we make something, we tend to immediately fix onto our percieved mistakes instead of looking at it objectively. We tend to think of our art a lot worse than anybody else, just because we know the process we used to make it.

Don’t get me wrong, that artist still has a lot to learn, but they see it in a worse light than it actually is just because that’s how the human brain works.

Exo Reaction To Thinking That They’ll Have a Daughter and Bought Everything For Her but a Boy Was Born


Baekhyun: “Next time we HAVE to make sure…”


Chanyeol: “Well… Borrowing money from Junmyeon again…”


Chen: “I knew it was a boy! I’m not listening to your gynecologist next time!”


D.O: “He’ll look sooooo good!”


Kai: “Every man needs to wear pink once in his life. I have no excuse for a pink room though….”


Kris: “We have to change everything now? We meaning Me


Lay: “He’s just a baby, we’ll just buy him accurate stuff as he grows”


Luhan: “We just failed as new parents”


Sehun: *Laughing his Sebooty off*
“Before changing anything, lets make photos and embarrass him in the future”


Suho: “Money will fix our little mistake”


Tao: “I was once dressed as a barrel-looking thing. He’ll survive that”


Xiumin: “All the expenses…”


Thank you for requesting ^3^
If any of you has an idea for a reactions, feel free to request :3

hey mod viz here
we got a LOT of asks regarding using the term “pangender” in a userbox and while your attention is appreciated, the sudden influx of asks is kiiind of stressing us mods out!!

now i don’t want to sound like i’m defending the use of the term “pangender” by saying this. We acknowledge our mistake for making that userbox, and have decided to replace it to fix our mistake.

We try our best to do other’s requests and also to uphold our own standards and reserve the right to decline requests. But we’re not perfect and when we make an uninformed decision every now and then (surprise surprise, it happens) it’s so hard to work through 100 asks with different viewpoints on the subject!!

so um, i hope it’s not too much to ask. don’t really debate with us mods too much!! It would be greatly appreciated if our mistakes were pointed out so we could fix them and learn from them, however?

thank you for reading all the way thru if u did,
but heres a tldr.

we’re just trying our best to make others happy. we appreciate your concern but it’s hard to put up with so many asks at once. let us know our mistakes and we’ll fix them but please try not to start a full-blown discussion in our askbox.

The Anatomy of Masks

Dishonored’s masks are invisible. You see them everywhere and yet fail to properly notice their presence. Maybe it’s due to the coherent design, which makes the masks feel like a natural (and rather insignificant) part of the world. Maybe it’s the fact, that the designers avoided imbuing the masks with mystical powers or heavy-handed symbolism. 

In some ways it is refreshing to see masks approached with such pragmatism. Corvo Attano’s mask might be the one most metaphorically loaded one, with an arguably supernatural origin, yet at the end of the day it was created by the hands of a regular craftsman for a common purpose - anonymity.

Yet masks are powerful, even if people in Dishonored don’t recognize them as such. I will examine the story reasons, gameplay mechanics and possible interpretations for the masks found in Dishonored. To simplify matters, I segregate them by their owners: Corvo Attano, the Whalers, the Overseers and the Nobles. 

Keep reading

you know what i realized… everytime a guy told me i was amazing or so beautiful or told me i want to marry u someday or talked to me about having kids and all tht jazz, if they said it to me they will say it again and again to other girls and they probably don’t remember who they even said it to like flashforward to when theyre 30 they wont remember what girl they told what to and like wow it just hit me tht like everything i believed when i was 15 are things i don’t even take a second thought at now that im basically 17. There was a girl before me they liked and maybe said similar things to them like you only really know and trust someone once u go through it all; them at their worst, them with no makeup, them showing their most scared and embarresed thoughts, they need to know about that little scar on your back from that little wrinkle on your forehead when you laugh, like you never really know someone until everything is reviled and that takes years not months and not at the age of 15-16 like what do we know about love and marriage and kids we havent even passed high school yet all we know is making mistakes and trying to fix our mistakes and sometimes not even being brave enough to fix them. My point here is that all we’ve known for our whole life is the same kind of people, with the same kind of lives leaving in the same area and they all go for what they think is the right kind of people because of what they see on the outside. Like what if we could see people from the inside out I think the good people wouldn’t have gotten hurt, in the end and if we stopped looking at someones outside to dictate there inside or assuming who and what they are I think we would be a whole lot easier on one another. I met a guy at 15 who I thought I loved him and we made these crazy promises we said we’d marry eachother… I was 15 not able to have a lerners permit to drive my car, not even graduated from grade 10, god dammit i haven’t even been around long enough to expiercence and find things I love and I thought I wanted to spend forever with the first guy who told me he wanted to… I am not saying you may not last forever with your first love maybe you will get married to them one day but please before you do make sure you have seen them happy for no reason or make sure you have seen them mad and see how they take it out on you and god dammit make sure you have seen them in their most influenced state still see if they always put you first see them drunk and sad and just make sure you know them 100% because if you dont there is a 100% chance you will find that one thing you can’t stand about the person and thats how I realized that so many people are temporary sometimes you meet a couple who aren’t … I thought he was my world and I would never get over my first true love but I did because what is love? fuck I’m now 17 and I still dont know… I wouldnt die for you I wouldnt put you before anyone else I dont know the first thing about love all I know is that I’m a teenager who at the time hated her self and he was my band aid covering up my scars of pain and self hate he said everything I should have been saying to myself and now I know that, I sometimes wish I would have known sooner. I know I am able to move on and find someone new when I hear your name I am no longer bitter… We were a little chapter in my story and I now have passed the chapter it took me a while but im a slow reader… Now I realize I can see you with someone else and I will be okay and I know if they’re is someone else for you then they’re is someone else for me. From now on i promise myself to not walk by your house unless I must I like longer walks anyways. I spent 5 years in high school and I learnt one thing and it wasn’t taught to me in class but I taught myself something I met one person and they changed my total outlook on life I made them my happiness and it almost cost me my life and my grad year but its may 14 now and there still a little bit to go in my last year… and now i notice i wasted to much time thinking of you and praying for your return that i forgot to learn how to forget you … and now I realize I have all on my own, without even noticing it. Its the end of high school and the end of you // you are in my past and I can finally say I don’t need you anymore and I believe myself I let to many people go because I was spending to much of my energy trying to get you back but now its where it changes I don’t need to focus on you and focus on how I thought it was my fault but more on how to meet new people because as we all walk out these doors for the last time ever we leave our passed behind us leave your ex boyfriend or girlfriend that hurt you at the door, leave that kid who always gave you a hard time, leave those people who didn’t appreciate your worth, leave everything and everyone who is less than what you deserve. If I can do it, you can to.
—  idk if this is a grad speech or a life lesson or something but yeah

sm: *couldn’t handle 2 subunits with 6 members in each without f*cking it all up*

sm: let’s fix our mistakes and grow as a company


guess who’s the love interest!!! 

1)Character A despises me for an unfounded rumor which wasn’t my fault and is easily disproven. Despite this, they actively avoid me and are cold towards me to protect their own reputation and reject me and my friends because we are of Slytherin house" 

2) Character B immediately accepted me for who I was and never believed the unfounded rumors about me and defended me when I was most vulnerable. Being forced apart was devastating for the both of us, leaving us both heartbroken and crying because of it. I gave up a life of power and popularity– something which I never had– to have them again. I risked the destruction of the world to have them back. I used memories of them to find courage enough to survive soul-sucking dementors. I am clearly jealous of their romantic interests and am uncharacteristically irritable and dismissive and try to ditch said romantic interest at first opportunity. We agreed to die together to fix our mistakes, our torturer’s threats had no effect on Character B until they threatened me and I have spent my life dreaming about having adventures like Harry Potter and others in history books before me but just having Character B is better. If had to choose anyone to face the return of eternal darkness with I would chose them”