i am the most wasted out of them all

attention college freshmen/anyone feeding themselves for the first time

this is for you

it has come to my attention that some people are not feeding themselves properly bc they don’t know how to cook/aren’t sure how to cook on a budget. bc i am everyone’s mom (or at least everyone’s wise older sister) let me drop some very real Broke Rookie Cooking Knowledge. 2 of my favorite recipes are under the cut, both of which come out to $2 OR LESS PER SERVING.

-MAKE a MENU. pick out like 5 things you know how to make and buy JUST WHAT YOU NEED FOR THOSE THINGS. and also a few snacks, but otherwise, JUST THAT. don’t just buy some random-ass groceries you think you’ll need. (also, if you don’t know how to make 5 things, seriously just google simple dinner recipes. i used a “mississippi heirloom cookbook” my aunt gave me and got a ton of good ones.)

-tbh i don’t even buy snacks except for a giant box of cookies that lasts me like 2 weeks at a time and an assload of apples. snacking is bad for you, and if you don’t HAVE snacks, you can’t EAT snacks. fuck snacks.

-off-brand EVERYTHING. you think you can taste a difference? you CAN’T. get shit in cans. vegetables. pasta sauce. salsa. whatthefuckever. it all comes in cans, and it’s always cheaper. i have no idea why.

-whole grain bread and brown rice/pasta are not more expensive than the regular kind, and they keep you full longer. GET THEM.

-@ my americans, Dollar Tree has literally everything. every kitchen utensil. (it’s where i got my big-ass chef’s knife, and that bitch is still sharp.) dishes/cups. snacks. drinks. literal loaves of bread. all kinds of basics, from peanut butter to sriracha to progresso soup. some even have freezer sections. all for ONE DOLLAR. go to Dollar Tree first, then go to the grocery store for whatever you couldn’t find there. i s2g it saves me so much money. (they also have tupperware, cleaning supplies, toilet paper, EVERYTHING. for one dollar.)

-produce is way cheaper than you think. get some fresh vegetables. you really will start to feel like a bag of hot garbage if you don’t eat your veggies.

-COOK in ADVANCE. i work during the day and go to school in the evenings, then i come home and work out. lemme tell you, my ass does NOT wanna cook when im done with all that. cook shit in big quantities, stock up on tupperware (dollar treeeeee), and stick it in the fridge for later. when you’re exhausted and remember you have instant dinner already made, you will want to kiss yourself.

-find some sandwiches you love. make a lot of sandwiches. (pls for the love of God dont use kraft american singles tho. deli-sliced cheese is literally right next to it, and it is NOT more expensive.)`

-FUCK organic free-range shit. you got organic free-range money? GREAT. i sure as hell don’t, and neither do most people. don’t waste your money trying to live your foodstagram #goals while you’re young and poor.

-if you qualify for SNAP/EBT, GET THAT SHIT. there are some assholes out there that will tell you not to, to leave it for the ~real~ poor people. tell them, ‘motherfucker I AM REAL POOR.’ for real though, corporations take advantage of any assistance the government gives them and they still lobby for more. you’d be a fool not to do the same. 

now some cheap-ass recipes

Keep reading

Double Standards

So, I have noticed an interesting pattern within the HP fanfic community. In real life, people have affairs. Occasionally, it happens, so it only makes sense that it translates to the stories we write. I, myself, have written stories where characters have gone on to have an affair, or two. It’s actually one of my favorite tropes to write. 

What I have noticed, however, is that the response garnered by these fics is typically based upon, not only the sex of the character, but the pairing itself. 

Now, first let me say, my opinion is not everyone’s, but it is mine. If you choose to disagree, fine, but do not send me hateful things. I will block/ban/report you. Second, I am open to a discussion about this if it is civil. With that said, let me begin.

If it is a story where a female character is the one having the affair, I often see her called a slut or a whore. While if it is a man, they may be called a player or a pig, but nothing as horrible as what the females are called. Typically though, I see far more hate for the female characters who cheat.  You’re probably like, “xxDustNight this is nothing new. Feminist agenda, blah, blah blah,” but let me explain. I’ve received comments on my stories calling my characters these things, but when it is my male characters, it’s far more tame. Typical or double standard? I’ll let you decide, but I am sure you can figure out my opinion.

Taking pairing into account is far more entertaining. I started my fanfiction journey in the realm of Dramione, where I stayed for a very long time. When it comes to the cheating trope in the Dramione fandom, things get feisty, to say the least. I have read and written many fics where Hermione and Draco cheat with each other or on each other, and the responses typically remain the same. If Hermione and Draco are cheating on their significant others with each other, then everyone is all sunshine and daisies, raining kudos and comments, reviews and favorites down upon the writer. 

However, if you flip the scenario and have Draco and Hermione cheating on each other, then the readers get mean, they get down right rude. The hate descends upon your inbox like the tears of a scorned lover. It can be relentless. It can make you want to stop writing, or even delete your fics. 

So why is this? Why is it okay for Hermione to cheat WITH Draco but not ON Draco and vice versa? It’s the double standards. I’ve seen it with other pairings, and even other fandoms, but this one is the most prominent, and closest to my heart as I used to primarily write for them.  

I’m not out here trying to start some stupid war over my post. I just am tired of seeing amazing writers have their works torn apart because of these stupid double standards. It’s really not that hard to check the tags or author’s note before you read something in case it has something you don’t agree with. Why read something you know you’re not going to like or agree with? Seems like a waste of time to me. I do get that not all writers utilize the tagging or author’s note system, but when you realize you don’t like or agree with it, you can stop reading. Amazing right? Or, you know, another option is that you keep your rude opinions to yourself if you don’t like it. That’s just me though.


I needed to draw this little comic now.
I’ve been told by several people now, that I am unhappy and won’t ever find happiness in my life because I keep worrying and complaining about politics and because I don’t like to go out. 
‘Why can’t you just watch TV and enjoy?’
'Why do you waste your time drawing?’
'You don’t want to celebrate your birthday? I bet you’re just anxious.“ 
It’s very tiring because I am not unhappy. 
Most people just annoy me a lot.
I am not an introvert when I am around people, I tell them what I think all the time, the topics just make me very angry so they think I am angry while actually nobody ever wants to talk about the things I enjoy. 
I’m not actually bad at social interaction I just dislike it.
So I stay at home. 
Because dogs are better than people and the internet is full of people who are interested in stuff I like.

(trivia: I actually have that 'shut the f✿ck up’ shirt.)

“Have you heard of Godric’s latest scheme?”

“No,” says Helga, without looking up from her sewing, even as her friend storms into the room and begins pacing wildly, “But I have no doubt that you will tell me whether I wish to hear more of our friend’s folly or not.”

“This is no laughing matter, Helga, nor a subject for your irreverent jests. Godric has finally overreached himself. He wishes to take scholars who are of similar disposition to him, alone. That is to say, rash –“

“Brave,” says Helga dryly, “I believe he calls it.”

“Rash,” Rowena continues, pacing about the room, “And given over to concentrating on the martial defence of obscure points of honour rather than the acquisition of knowledge and a finer understanding of the theory and history and practice of magic –“

“Not to mention learning the laws and mores of our kind and how to abide by them , so that they might one day take their place at its helm,” adds Helga.

“- of course,” concedes Rowena, “That is important, but the issue, Helga, is that Godric has set himself determinedly on this path to folly and now Salazar is determined to have his own way if Godric is to have his. He will have only those scholars who can prove that the magic in their lineage runs deeper than three generations and even among them he will have only the most cunning, for if Godric is to have the brave fools, he wishes to have the cunning ones and so show Godric that he is the better man. No doubt, this will involve duels and battles, both of which are undoubtedly fine arts, but not the aim of our school, or so I was given to understand. Do they not understand that this endeavour reaches far beyond obscure points of honour and their petty little pride? How can you sit there sewing? By the Morrigan, between these two we shall make short work of our kind and leave nought but ancient relics and fantastical stories for the non-magical folk to tell for sport.”

Helga puts her sewing down on her lap and looks up at the taller lady, her dark hair tumbling over her shoulders in a manner unseeming for a lady of their times but then Rowena has always been far more dedicated to her books than to the observance of social niceties.

“What would you have us do, Rowena?” she asks her, “Chide them as one would children? Talk sense to them? Have they ever listened and then humbled themselves in the past? Shall I count for you the number of ways we have already failed before we have even started? We were to have twice the number of classrooms so that the children might learn about that field of magic they are most suited to and not waste their lives struggling with lessons that they have neither interest nor a penchant for. Alas, Salazar and Godric were both determined to have rooms for portraits of themselves and for their suits of armour. We were meant to have taller walls that surrounded our castle, to protect it in case of attack, but both of them insisted that magic alone was enough to keep the wild Northeners out. And there is more, so much more that you are well aware of. I am tired, Rowena, we have fought and fought and with all that fighting we have barely managed to raise this school from the ground.”

“Then what would you suggest, Helga?” Rowena glares impressively at her and clasps her hands behind her back, waiting, no doubt, for Helga to suggest something ridiculously implausible.

“I say,” Helga picks up her sewing, “That we leave them to their folly. If they wish to divide this school along foolish lines, then so be it. They have cursed our world with their folly as it is and fighting will only now end our school before it has begun. What little we can do to lessen their folly, let us set ourselves and our students to do it. That is my advice.”

“Ha,” Rowena strides to the window and looks out, tapping her foot as she thinks.

It never ceases to amaze Helga that Rowena; calm, cool Rowena, when talking down Salazar and Godric; can be all thunder and lightning and pure undiluted rage and restless as the wind and then all of a sudden, switch to her cool, staid self when required. This is Rowena – like a storm on a lake, springing from nowhere and then disappearing as quickly as it appears. This is the Rowena that very few ever see; few save her and Rowena’s lord.

“It is not the course I would have chosen,” says Rowena, “Though indeed, I wish no less than you to punish those two fools for all the hardships they have put us through. I do not think, though, Helga, that it is our right to condemn all of our kind for the folly of these two, as you yourself have foreseen happening.”

“If not them, Rowena,” says Helga, “It would undoubtedly have been someone else. Some misguided descendant, or else some odd fool determined to set himself up,” she looks up at her, “I am not blind, or naïve, my friend. You and I both have fought in battles besides each other; we know the folly the world is capable of. I say, it is better the folly we know, than the folly we do not.”

“And when Godric proposes that we divide the students equally among us for the traits they bear – houses, he calls them – who will you take?”

“Everyone,” Helga replies, placidly, “I will take them all.”

Rowena’s lips curl in a slight sneer, “You are far too nice, Helga.”

Helga raises her eyebrows, “I have never pretended to be extraordinary, or in any way superior. I will take them all and teach them, Rowena. I will teach them how to be loyal, good friends and good citizens. What will you?”

The switch to the formal makes Rowena wince. In all the years that she has known Helga, she has never once seen her lose her temper, save on the battlefield, but she has learnt to take the cold switch to the formal as the gentle reprimand that her friend intends it to be.

“Forgive me, my friend,” she says, “I have none of your boundless patience, or your gentle disposition, but if I must, then I will take the wise ones and those who seek knowledge. Those who seek to learn above all else.”

“Which is entirely natural,” murmurs Helga, “For this is a school, after all and not a battlefield or indeed a fencing match as Godric and Salazar seem to believe.”

Rowena bows her head in assent, “Between the two of us, at least, I hope we might at least balance out the folly of the other two. If we do not, I fear what might come.”

“Aye,” says Helga, “We shall manage, Rowena, if we stick determinedly to our chosen course and do not waver. Who knows? In time we might even convince Godric to leave his battle spoils at home.”

(For a-commonplace-book.)

anonymous asked:

Why do some fonts want Z to be gay so badly? I'm especially talking about a certain website that hasn't shown any real affinity towards her. So she dresses in sneakers and hoods and that makes her gay? I just can't wrap my head around their reasoning. And all these anons confirming the "tea". If Z was gay she would be out and proud, that's the kinda girl she is. She lives her truth, all day every day.

I haven’t seen many people actively saying they want her to be but I know some wouldn’t mind, for people to assume it just by the way she dresses is a bit ridiculous like everyone wears that most of the time so that logic is flawed but it’s not surprising coming from that site if they swear their tea is real who am I to argue with them it’s a waste

He asked me... “Are you a writer?”

I just sat there in disbelief because I didn’t know what to say. I don’t know. Am I? I write things all the time and I’m obsessed with them, turning them over and in my mind, re-reading, re-writing, re-working, knowing nothing is ever perfect and that I’m never satisfied. Sometimes it is the imperfections of our work that makes them the most beautiful. Those glaring errors, those misspellings, those run-on sentences that you tell yourself make sense so it’s okay are all part of the package. When people read my work and make a comment, whether good or bad I’m baffled that anyone would waste their time on something I grew from my head to the page, like a Venus fly-trap, waiting for feedback only to bite their brain where it counts, right in the fucking neurotransmitters. 

Am I a writer? No. I’m more of a word addict than anything. I’m addicted to telling stories with words, to creeping people out, to turning them on, to making them cry. I feel so hard, so intensely as I put my words onto the page that they are left with the indelible mark of my torment, my savagery. You can’t help but feel me brooding from wherever you are while reading my work, and I’m pretty sure that makes me a writer, but it might make me more of a monster. I love making people feel, most definitely. 

But I don’t write for other people, I write because I can’t stop. I’m hopelessly addicted to any and every kind of writing I can find. I need to constantly dump my thoughts onto pages and I can’t escape it. The more I write, the more I need to write, and the more I need to write the more the words pour onto the pages. I write for sometimes 5 hours a day. Writer’s block? No problem. Writer’s block is for pussies. I write anyway, even if I know it’s going to suck. I write volumes of stories per week, a smattering of poems, short prose, long prose, books, volumes, whatever I can wrap my mind around. I write so much that the MacBook I bought last January has many keys that are missing their black pigment and I can see the glowing light underneath. My spacebar has a permanent print where my nail hits it that has worn a nice, clear hole through the enamel. 

When people try to critique my work I listen and I try my best to see my words through their eyes. I’ve learned to sacrifice and edit, I’ve learned that editors don’t like run-on sentences even though I adore them. I don’t write for editors or critiques. I don’t really care if other people think I suck. I think I’m an awesome writer. I love reading my work back and thinking, “Fuck I’m good.” I do that all the time. I surprise myself every day with what I am capable of. So if you are a writer I hope you follow your heart like I do. I write whatever the fuck I want, whenever I feel like it. I feel like it constantly. I feel like writing is just who I am. I guess you can say that I am a writer because only a writer can take a question that could be answered in one word and write a fucking essay about it.

riarklefluff  asked:

Can you do a riarkle au #5 ) “We were drunk and confessed love to each other and on the next day everyone congratulate us about getting together and this is awkward because we don’t remember anything”

Okay this one was so much fun to write! I apologize in advance for the cliffhanger, but it was already over 2,000 words. Enjoy!  (warning: cussing and drinking) They are 18/19 years old here.

AU #5 “We were drunk and confessed love to each other and on the next day everyone congratulate us about getting together and this is awkward because we don’t remember anything”

Farkle shielded his eyes as the sunlight came through his bedroom window. He had the biggest headache in the world. Barely able to see, he stumbled out of bed, his hands still covering his eyes. He must be getting a cold, he thought to himself. That was, before he knocked over something with his foot, causing a sticky mess all over his floor and on his bare feet. Why would there be a drink on his bedroom floor? Farkle looked down, realizing it was a beer.

“Shit!” he swore. That wasn’t the worse part, though - as he turned around, searching for something to clean the mess up he noticed something stirring in his bed. Much to his surprise, there was Riley.

“Shit shit shit!” he swore again, searching around his room. What had happened last night? And why didn’t he remember anything? He searched around his room - looking for a clue that would lead him to know what had happened, but mostly just finding red cups and half empty bottles of alcohol scattered around his room.

Farkle quietly went downstairs to grab a plastic bag to clean up the mess. That’s when he remembered his parents had said they’d be gone away for the weekend on a business trip, and he decided to invite his friends over for a grad year get-together, although it seemed like things got a little out of hand.

He quickly picked up the trash around his room and hid the half empty bottles in his closet. Now for the harder part, he told himself. Waking up a hungover Riley in my bed should be fun.

“Riley…It’s Farkle. You gotta get up; we have to talk,” Farkle said, almost going to shake Riley until he realized the situation they were in. 

“It’s too bright in here oh my god,” complained Riley, shielding her eyes with her bare arm, “my head hurts so much.”

Riley slowly removed her hands from her face to see a concerned looking Farkle - scratch that - an anxious looking Farkle. Riley looked around the room -why was she in Farkle’s room? 

Oh my god!” she yelled as the realization hit her. Farkle, still facing her, nodded knowingly.

“Farkle- what the hell happened last night-“

Riley took a seat on the edge of his bed. Surely her parents would be wondering where she was and would be calling her any minute. Where was Maya and Lucas and Zay, anyways? She was certain that they were here last night.

Farkle turned around to look at her, his eyes searching her own. “We need to figure out what happened last night, so I’m calling our friends and asking them to come over. Hopefully, they’ll know what happened,” he decided, already dialing Maya’s number.

“I just don’t understand how this happened… how is it possible you and I don’t remember anything?”

*21 hours earlier*

Farkle and his friends were at their usual spot in the cafeteria on Friday afternoon. It was their senior year and the five of them still hadn’t done anything crazy and they were about to graduate high school and become adults. Farkle wasn’t the type to throw parties - but when his parents told him they were going away for the weekend, he knew it would be his only chance to have his friends over and have the time of their lives. He had been deciding all yesterday night whether or not he should throw the party. It would only be a few people. Just his close friends. And they don’t have to drink, just hang out and have fun. That’s it.

“So guys, I thought since my parents are away for the weekend, and we’re almost done our senior year and everything that we should get together at my place tomorrow and hang out,” Farkle suggested, his friends all looking at him in shock.

“Farkle? Throwing a party? Who would’ve thought,” joked Maya, nudging Farkle slightly.

“So? Are you guys in or out?”

“In, definitely in.”

*11 hours earlier*

Riley was sitting at her vanity, doing last minute touch ups on her makeup when Maya fumbled through the bay window, carrying about ten bottles of liquor in her hands.

“Maya where did you get all that alcohol?! We’re not even legal yet!” exclaimed Riley, locking her bedroom door just in case her parents decided to come in and check on her. “You know Farkle is going to murder you, right?”

“Oh, I’m counting on it.”

Riley looked at herself one last before she headed out the bay window. She had to admit - she looked fantastic. She was wearing a long sleeved tight black dress that went to her knees and her hair was curled to perfection. God only knew why she was so dressed up, it was only Farkle’s house after all, and It’s not like she had anybody to impress, did she?

Riley had told her parents she was sleeping at Maya’s - and she was planning to, but not before going to Farkle’s house, of course.

Farkle frantically cleaned his room - it had never been this messy, but since his senior year had become so busy with school and friends, he settled for throwing anything everywhere rather than putting it away. It was 10:00 pm and his friends would be over any minute. He already had the whole night planned out: he had board games, food, and sci-fi movies - it would be a perfect evening.

By the time Riley and Maya got to Farkle’s house, Maya was panting at the effort of carrying all the alcohol around. Served her right for bringing that much alcohol to Farkle’s house.

Riley rang the doorbell, shifting her feet back and forth. When Farkle opened the door, Riley expected him to yell at Maya for all the alcohol she was trying to carry in her arms, but he didn’t even glance at her and was instead looking at Riley.

“Wow- Riley you look beautiful,” he complimented. She had to say; he didn’t look bad himself in his dress shirt that was rolled up to his elbows and his black jeans.

“Yeah yeah we all know she looks hot,” Maya interrupted, “now let’s go inside because I’m carrying a thousand pounds worth of booze.”

“Maya, I said no booze!”

“Common Farkle, it’s going to be fun.”


When Riley and Maya got inside, Lucas and Zay were already inside sitting on Farkle’s bedroom floor, screaming at the TV while playing some zombie game.

“Okay listen up friends, I brought alcohol,” announced Maya, “we’re in senior year and I think we all deserve a little fun, at least for tonight.” Zay and Lucas didn’t object to it, it was true, they did deserve to have some fun, at least for tonight.

While Maya poured everyone a rum and coke, Riley went over to Farkle’s stereo and turned up the music, her hips already moving to the music.

Farkle couldn’t stop staring at Riley; she looked so beautiful - not that she didn’t look beautiful all the time but she looked exceptionally beautiful tonight in that dress dancing around his room. While he loved being her best friend, he wanted to tell her the truth. That he was desperately in love with her.

*2 hours later*

“Maya, I think I’ve had a little too much,” Riley hiccuped, steadying herself against Farkle’s bed. The whole room was spinning. Riley hadn’t realized how good rum tasted, and she got a little carried away when she finished her sixth drink. By the time Maya cut her off, Riley was already wasted.

“You think, Riles,” responded Maya, giggling herself. Apparently, Maya had too much alcohol as well.

Farkle probably had the most drinks out of the five of them, though, and was now standing on his bed screaming “I am the king of all the galaxies! Peasants, prepare to die!”

Riley tugged on the bottom of Farkle’s shirt, “Farkle, get down,” she tugged again as another hiccup escaped her lips.

Farkle looked down at her before saying, “you can be my queen Riley. But only because I love you so much,” he rolled his eyes, a crooked smile on his face, “but don’t tell Maya.”

Riley giggled, standing up on the bed as well. Lucas, Zay, and Maya were in the other corner of Farkle’s room doing weird dances to the music blasting. “What do I get out of being your queen?”

“The whole world. My everlasting love,” he responded dramatically. Riley bursted out laughing, and it was the most wonderful sound in the world to Farkle.

Farkle moved closer to Riley - their noses slightly touching; he couldn’t help himself. Riley’s eyes widened when he pressed the softest kiss to her cheek, “you could have all my love for real - if you want it. Do you?”

Riley looked at Farkle - he was joking, of course, he had to be. But what if he wasn’t? What if Farkle did love her. She so desperately wanted it to be true, but she was scared to admit to anything. After all these years of hiding her feelings, he was telling her that he loved her?

Farkle looked at her with pleading eyes, trying to decipher what she was thinking. Riley let her intoxication get the best of her and accidently blurted out a “yes” before she crashed her lips onto Farkle’s.

The whole world seemed to stop spinning when their lips touched each others. They were still standing on Farkle’s bed; Farkle put his arm on her back to support her while Riley ran her right hand through his hair. The kiss seemed to last hours, and they both appeared to hear nothing around them. The kiss was pure fireworks.

When they finally pulled away, the whole gang was staring at them, their mouths wide open from shock- except for Maya, who was smiling proudly.


Maya, Zay, and Lucas showed up at Farkle’s thirty minutes after he called them. They all looked just as bad as Farkle and Riley did. Lucas had an ice pack on his head - apparently he had hit his head last night and Maya had to take him to the hospital this morning. Zay went to straight to Farkle’s kitchen, grabbing a bowl of cereal. Farkle gave him a puzzled look. “What?” he asked, confused, “it’s good hangover food.”

Riley sat down at the kitchen table, along with all her friends, except for Farkle, who was pacing back and forth around the kitchen table, a frown on his face.

“So,” started Maya, “how is the happy couple? I can’t believe you guys finally got together last night, I mean, I’ve known you liked each other since forever.”

What?!” Riley and Farkle exclaimed, looking at their friends who were smiling sheepishly.

“Yeah. Riley planted a good one on you,” snickered Zay, causing a flustered Riley.

“I - I didn’t!” Riley protested, “I would have remembered!”

“Wait - so you’re telling me both of you don’t remember what happened last night- at all? How drunk were you?”

“Very, apparently,” Farkle sighed, rubbing his hand over his face.

“Okay so here’s what we’re gonna do, we’re gonna reenact what happened last night, all right?” suggested Maya, pulling Riley out of the kitchen seat and pushing her towards Farkle.

“No Maya, we’re not doing that,” protested Farkle, “it’s already embarrassing enough that neither of us can recall confessing our love to each other.”

“But don’t you want to know what happened?”

Dumb Logic || Jr.

► Request(s):  my first questions! can you write me scenario where you are l’s junior and he has feelings for you but he don’t want to admit it. everyone know about since he get fast jealous and overprotective over you and then he confess to you in a tsundere way

can you write something with got7’s jr where he’s the popular guy and you’re the loner girl but instead of making it super cliché you can go wild with it :D thanks I love your writing <3

Comments: I put those two together because to me they sort of had some similarity and I had a storyline that mostly integrated both of the ideas there, so I hope it came out okay :3 

Originally posted by ohgotseven

         In truth, you really couldn’t stand anyone at that sad excuse of a school that you went to.

           Sure, high school was basically supposed to be filled with all the drama, and gossip, and mean girls/guys, and all the other unpleasant features found in every high school on the planet, but your school was… a bit much.

           Freshmen year you first walked through those doors without friends or a care for anyone at all, and at this rate you were thinking you would step out of those doors senior year in the same state.

           But, there was one thing-a pretty big thing-that you had now that you didn’t quite have freshmen year, and that… was Park Jinyoung.

           Ah yes, as cliché as it sounded, Jinyoung truly was the most popular guy in the building. Everyone knew his name, whether they liked it or not. Everyone had some sort of story with him, some nicer than others. He somehow managed to barge into everyone’s life at that school, but none of them compared to the way he barged into yours.

           And oddly enough, you sorta liked it.

Keep reading

Coming Detractions

I felt a little out-of-sorts when I walked out of Captain America this weekend, but don’t read that as any judgement on the film. My mood - and I’m not sure how to describe it except to say it contained grains of irritation, amusement, and dismay - was entirely the result of the coming attractions.

Our local theater inflicted ten previews on us in all, for a sustained assault that lasted well over twenty minutes. We had almost a half an hour of things detonating, buildings collapsing in avalanches of pulverized rock and broken glass, F-16s spinning out-of-control like badminton shuttlecocks, and soundtracks doing that BWAAAA-BWAAA thing that every preview has had to do since Inception. By the time it was done I had this voice in my head saying something like ohgodfuck stop too much no more I’ll be good I’ll take the pills I’ll do whatever you ask just let me up I’ve had enough.

The thing which really struck me is that every preview had everything everyone everywhere could ever want in their summer movie experience except for any sign of human beings. A truck disintegrated into twelve hundred components and put itself back together. A raccoon wielding a mini-gun laid waste to other CGI critters. A few cities were destroyed by dinosaurs or robots or, in one case, a robot dinosaur (YES). But where were all the fucking human beings?

It’s clear to me that I’m suffering from event fatigue. I am worn out on bigness: on loud movies that come in trilogies of trilogies, each 3 hours long (4 on the director’s cut DVD). But most of all, I just miss when films used to have room in them for people - when a story was something that happened to a character. You know. I’m old, I get nostalgia for the good old days of brainy little character pieces like DIE HARD and MINORITY REPORT.

No doubt some of these films will have wonderful characters in them. You know the saying: don’t judge a book by its extended red-band trailer featuring a tidal wave wiping out Los Angeles. I understand that when you only have two-and-a-half minutes to sell a film, you can’t waste precious seconds on shit no one cares about, like people with faces expressing emotions. No matter how the trailers make it look, I’m sure many of the upcoming summer films will feature bits and pieces of human drama. There has to be a moment somewhere for the ticket-buyers to go out and spend money on popcorn.

There was one instant - just one - when I perked up, during the half hour or so I was being clobbered senseless by the shit parade of summer previews. All of a sudden, in the middle of the Godzilla trailer, I heard Bryan Cranston’s voice, cracking with grief, strain, and frustration. I had gooseflesh all over. A whole 3-D CGI city block of skyscrapers can come screaming down in a billion lovingly rendered shreds of debris and it can’t even begin to compete with so much exposed humanity.

Idea: the singular power of the human voice is maybe the last thing they can’t model on a computer, autotune with software, or calculate with the help of a focus group. It is also one of the few things left that can cut through the clutter, that can electrify a viewer, and that has more power than a whole half hour of BWAAA BWAAA.

Oh, and what’d I think of Captain America? I liked the human parts. None of them were in the trailer, so they came as a complete surprise.

wilson-vanillson  asked:

Would it be possible for you to do a Kylo Ren one shot where he takes you as prisoner on his ship after a raid on your planet and allows you to walk freely through the ship and takes a liking to you and you kind of fall in love and it's not angsty angry Kylo, instead a little fluffy and stuff. Thank you💕💕

Sure thing! I do almost all of my imagines in reader insert, but if its anything like the last imagine I did with little Ben and his mom and dad before he even went to train with Luke, it’ll most likely be in third person with no reader insert. Buuuuuuut, im writing this one with reader insert so I hope you don’t mind! ^-^


For the most part, you were scared. On a ship you knew nothing about, in a chair with restraints that where locked tight on your wrists. You could hear and feel your heartbeat, a loud thumping sound as it rang in your ears. You could feel your blood pulsing every here and there. Your wrists, your neck, it was so evident.

Your skin had paled a significant amount as you looked around the room. your breath hitching as you shook your hands, yanking on the cuffs as you tried to kick your feet out. You gritted your teeth as you narrowed your eyes in confusion.

“W-Where am I?” You mumbled, eyes widening as you struggled with all your effort in the latched upright restraint chair. Your efforts where put to waste though, seeing as you only grew tired by the second. You looked around the room, well as much as you could see. The door was behind you, you gathered. The room was paneled with a grey color, the panels where most likely made out of metal. There was some damage to them, almost like someone had melted pieces of the wall and didn’t have enough time to take care of the severe damage yet.

In the center of the room was a large bowl sitting on top of a post, inside the bowl was a pretty decent amount of ashes, it got you wondering. You’re in this chair, locked up in a place you don’t know. In a place where you didn’t see anybody who you knew.

And dear god, was that bowl of ash in the center of the room really scaring you. That could have been someone else who was recently sitting in this chair, right? It could be you then in a little bit?

You felt tears prickle your eyes as you tried to remember the last thing you saw, you can’t exactly…everything is so foggy. You remember your mother telling you to go to the panic room and that something bad was happening, every since the first order offered their help to your planet your family knew something fout of the ordinary was wrong with them.

Your planet had a food shortage, and in exchange the first order offered to help with that as long as they are given new storm troopers every month. Children being taken away from their families, some saw it as just a price to pay for food. They’re all so sure they’re going to see their children again.

The tears stopped prickling your eyes as they started to fall down your cheeks when you started to remember the last thing you saw. A bright red beam cutting through the “impenetrable” door of the panic cellar. The red beam you recognized as a lightsaber.

You started to quietly sob to yourself as you shook in your restraints, the beams over your head keeping your head in place but you still tried to shake your head.

“Where’s my mother? I just want my mother.” You quietly mumbled to yourself, a sharp breath escaping your soft lips, you could fear a couple tears sliding down your face and across your lips, eventually they went down your chin and over your chest.

You sniffled as you breathed through your mouth, breathing through your nose was hard to do when you’re crying.

“Where am I, someone tell me.” You mumbled, hoping someone would hear you in this empty room. There really was a stinging feeling in the back of your head that you could sense another presence.

And there was, as Kylo stood in the doorway and watched everything from a distance.

He stepped forward, and upon the sound of hearing someone’s heavy footsteps your eyes jerked open and you sniffled loudly, a tear sliding down your cheek since you shook your head quickly in shock.

“W-Whose there? Oh god please help me I’m not suppose to be here-”

“Quiet.” Kylo cut her off quickly, finding your babbling tears annoying. He didn’t understand why you were this shaken up. He understands being shaken up, but never has he ever had someone beg to see their mother in the questioning room.

This didn’t keep you from asking questions, which annoyed Kylo.

He stomped his way in front of you, extending his hand and using the force to get you to stop speaking and listen to him instead of spouting off your worries induced by fear.

“You will tell me everything you know about the conspiracies against the first order within the treaty. Half your planet is destroyed, traitor scum.” He says, walking forwards. You could feel yourself being pulled close to him, almost. If it weren’t for the chair holding you down that is. your back wasn’t even against the chair anymore, there was a layer of air between you, and the chair.

You felt a tight hold against your throat as a knot formed in your stomach. You wanted to just curl up in a ball to make it hurt less, you shut your eyes closed tight as a ringing pain in your head began to echo throughout your skull.

“I-I don’t know anything please I swear.” You said through a broken voice, sobs trying not to escape through your mouth as you spoke. You kept your eyes clenched shut from the pain, you could feel a tightening grip around your throat making it harder for you to breathe.

“Lies. I want the truth right now.” Kylo yelled, his voice going through his helmet and making him sound even more menacing than he actually is. It scared you. All of this did. Your family doesn’t let you out much, they want to keep you away from others of your planet because of what they would do if they found out you’re special. It’s something your mother always says, very few people even know you exist currently. you don’t ask questions to your parents what it is they hide about you, but you try to keep it hidden with them. If this man reveals who you are to the people of your planet, and considering the Authority of your father? You don’t know what would happen.

“I DON’T KNOW ANYTHING!” You let out, eyes opening wide as your body ached to go forward, almost as if you could feel the restriants digging under your skin.

Kylos face twisted in shock, for a brief second.

He let go, and stopped using the force on you. He stepped back after he realized he wasn’t going to get any information out of you. But he sensed something…off about you. You struck him as unaware, almost. He came to a conclusion you didn’t even know much to begin with. Watching you cry in the restraints, tears falling so much to the point the collar of your dress piece had darkened due to the tears reaching it, the wet fabric sticking to your skin.

Kylo let out a sigh under his helmet, you were an absolute mess. Hair sticking to your face in random spots, you were sweating and that didnt help at all really.  Sometimes you would talk to yourself, silently. He’d hear you whisper that you just wanted to go home, or at least clean your face. He shouldn’t feel bad, and he does not.

But he’s found an excuse to keep you over night…for a little bit that is. And you seemed to not pose a threat to him, so maybe two or three nights would not matter. He still thinks you know vital information, he just doesn’t think you know it’s vital.

He’s going to get that information out of you.

Kylo huffed to himself as he used the force to cause you to faint, waving a gloved hand over you in your direction and watched as you went limp in the chair.

Kylo turned to a stormtrooper guarding the door, and at attention the storm trooper turned.

“Take her to a room, and call someone in the health care facility to take care of her.” Kylo said before the stormtrooper standing at attention nodded, a quick “Yes Sir.” Before taking the unconscious girl off to a room with a bed and necessities. Granted, it would feel like a prison. But it’s better than that chair.

Kylo couldn’t get any information out of you, and as he slowly turned around as the door to the questioning chamber closed, he gripped at his lightsaber and let out a loud yell as he tored it out by his side, switching it on and going at the already destroyed metal panels on the wall.


“Supreme Leader Snoke, I believe that she is within the circle of people who are conspiring against the first order. And that she knows more. give me time, and I will deliver.” Kylo says, his hands behind his back one minute and limply at his side the next. He kept a straight face under his helmet, staring at the large Hologram of Supreme Leader Snoke in front of him. The dark mostly empty room echoing his words.

“You have three days to bring me information. Then she will be disposed of and out of your way.” Supreme leader Snoke said, his face contorting to that of annoyance. Kylo could see the grip of his hands tightening around the ends of the armrests of his large throne like chair.

“Of course. I will give you the information that is needed.” Kylo said, turning around swiftly as his black robe like themed clothing flew behind him as he walked quickly, only three days. Kylo didn’t feel as though he wanted to spare a minute.


When you awoke, there was a pain in the middle of your back, you couldn’t feel any sweat or tears all over your face. you hair was slightly damp. You sat up slowly, grimacing and holding your hand to your throat in pain. You scratched your head and looked around the room, it was pretty small and the bed in here actually felt like it was made from rocks.

You looked down and realized how thin the attired you are wearing is, you can’t remember putting this on? Its a grey, knee length dress type of night gown that has short shoulder sleeves and it cuts off above your collar bones. It honestly looked and felt like a large pillow case. The blanket that had been over you was fairly thin, the pillow felt like it had been stuffed with paper and not cotton.

Kylo sat at the other end of the room, the only thing separating the two of you was a set of laser bars, anything that comes into contact with them will trigger electricity to run through a wire connected to the floor, in other words? Dont. Touch. The. Beams.

He stared past the red beams, a smirk on his face under his mask as he sat in a chair backwards, arms over the end of it while watching you slowly realize where you where. He watched as your face turned to confusion, skipping anger straight to fear.

He found it amusing, the way your reacted to things so differently. He would stare at your (e/c) eyes and watch as they narrowed, or if they widened, how much you blinked or if they started to water. He doesn’t quite understand it, but the way your lips move, the way you’d crinkle your nose every now and then at certain things. He really didn’t understand it, and he wanted too. Secretly he really did want to know about it and why you do these things.

He doesn’t even know you, but he doesn’t feel like he has too. Not a lot of people really intrigue him much less amuse him.

You stared at him, turning your direction towards him and parted your lips to speak, only a little bit of air left before Kylo himself cut you off with his own answer. Already sensing what you’d ask.

“You are my guest, and you’re on my ship. I apologize for this circumstances of where you are sleeping. That can be fixed, but I can only fix that after you answer my questions.” He stood up, pushing the chair away from him as he stood in front of the beams. He held his hands behind his back and clasped his hands together.

You stared at the man. His voice sounded so stern, is that whit his voice sounds like? He’s  a very tall man. You stared at him from head to toe, covered in black attired. He had robe like clothes, though they weren’t exactly robes. It was split down the middle in four ways, and he had a rather large scarf on that had a hood connected to it.

“We can start with your name.” Kylo says, you swing your feet out from under the blanket on the side of the bed and press your knees together, ankles to ankles. You place your hands at the hem of your dress and tug it down closer past your knees. you fiddled with your thumbs and bit your lip as you stared at the ground with a serious expression.

“M-My name is (Y/n), (Y/n) (L/n).” You say, your face twisting into that of confusion and embarrassment as you did not take your focus off from the ground.

“Kylo Ren, knights of Ren. You intrigue me, we could have met under…better circumstances. If only you had corroborated at the beginning. I had no intentions of hurting you,” Kylo spoke as he paced around the room, gripping the back of the chair to the point you could hear the wood crack from where you were sitting.

You made a small whimpering noise to yourself as you shut your eyes tight, pressing your knees and ankles against each other even harder. In fear he might throw the chair.

Kylo saw that you had grown scared, and he actually…felt sorry he did that. That wasn’t his intent, but he’s made himself more threatening towards yourself.

This will work, he thinks to himself.

“but you were not giving me answers, I will do whatever it takes to get information. Information that I know you have.” Kylo says, walking towards a panel against the wall. He flips a switch, and with a loud beeping noise the beams power down.

“But there are other ways to get answers.” He finishes, making eye contact with you. He’s locking his eyes onto yours, and your staring at him and trying to configure certain possibilities for what his eyes look like. Under that mask.

He walks towards the main door of the room, locking a hatch and swinging the chair in front of the handle.

He turns around and slowly makes his way over to you, a calm demure radiating off him. Almost as if you could feel it.

The walls of the cell room where made from Brick and a type of metal you assumed was very hard to break, there were shackles in certain parts of the room, but you tried your best not to look at them. It only made you more nervous.

The closer Kylo got to you, the more uneasy you felt. What type of monster that could be under the mask? You didn’t know. Compared to your first encounter with him (that you can recall,) being choked by the force by a man behind a threatening mask isn’t exactly on your daily to do list. And it’s something you never want to go through again.

You backed up on your bed, keeping your knees together as you pulled yourself against the wall and just kept one of your hands there for support. your eyes widened as your lips parted ever so slightly. Your breathing became sharp as you didnt even bother to move the wet strand of hair out of your face. You where so nervous nothing that would normally bother you, like hair being in your face, is bothering you.

“I’m not going to hurt you again, unless you give me a reason too.” Kylo says, he’s in the cell now as he takes a seat at the foot of the bed. His back towards you as he continues speaking.

“I just want you to tell me everything you know. Even if you don’t think it’s important.” He says, turning towards you and lowering the hood of his scarf off from his head.

“I can reunite you with your parents. They are not dead.” He says. Standing up from the stern bed. You slowly removed your hand from the wall, a raised eyebrow as your facial features slowly turned from being afraid and anxious to being happy and hopeful.

Kylo…he loved this. He didn’t know why, watching the corners of your lips tug upwards as your eyes widened, with delight this time. As your face brightened. You moved from your position and swung your legs underneath yourself as your sat on them, hands going over on your knees as you scrunched up part of the soft grey fabric over yourself.

“Really?! Can I see them?!” You asked, nearly yelling. The smile on your face brightened.

“Not now, but you will. If you give me answers.” Kylo said, taking a seat on the chair that was already in the cell to begin with, not having to move the one that was keeping the door latched shut. Kylo crossed one leg over another and crossed his arms, a smirk across his face.

You couldnt see his smirk, but you sensed an arrogantness about him.

“How..how do I know that you aren’t lying?” You asked, leaning forwards on the rough bed and putting all of your weight on your arms, cocking an eyebrow upwards. you let out a huff and sat back down, crossing your arms and glaring at him.

“I may seem like a push over, but that’s because I was scared. If you’re simply teasing me with the life of my parents I won’t be able to be okay with this, you know that right?” You said, eyes fixating into a glare towards him.

God how much did Kylo love watching the string of your many emotions. You can say one sentence and have about six different emotions run through your face visibly. He’s starting to imagine you saying several paragraphs to him.

Oh, how’d he just love to sit and watch your face, he’s starting to take a fond liking to your eyes. The way they had a mysterious glint to them when you took some confidence for yourself. The way your lips parted when you where confused, or shocked. The way…just everything really.

“Teasing you? I don’t plan on doing that. Not with the life of your Mother and Father especially. I promise you that they are still alive, and I will give you reason to believe me if you do not so far.” Kylo said, standing up and removing his helmet.

There was a hiss of air as he flipped his index finger over a small hatch, slowly pulling the heavy article off his head. Revealing a man of curly black hair, his face seemed long and he looked…sad? Or maybe that’s just the way his face is. You didn’t want to be rude, and you can’t exactly just up and ask somebody, hey! You have a sad face. Why is that?!

But… he was very handsome, this entire time, especially while he was getting information out of you. you were expecting somebody with a badly damaged and disfigured face. somebody completely just…not like that.

Kylo saw his appearance had caught you off guard, causing a small smirk to fall across his features. You sat back and bit the inside of your cheek, crossing your arms and looking in the other direction.

“If you want my trust, you’re going to have to let me out of this room eventually.”


Kylo waited until it had been later, when not many people were out. Especially Captain Phasma and General Hux. Other stormtroopers, he’d be okay with seeing you with him. He could always use a force memory wipe if it got too out of hand.

Currently Kylo was showing you around the ship, explaining things when you asked. And yes, you still wore the grey pillow case attire. Kylo made you wear an over layer though, considering StarKiller Base is quite cold, for obvious reasons.

the more you asked about him, the more he asked about you.

you followed him around, sometimes running to point things out, you’d hop around and get excited over the smallest things too. Kylo really shouldnt be thinking this, but it was quite cute. And he knows he’s not allowed to form attachments.

But if this only lasts for a couple of days? Then so be it.

“What was that bowl of ashes, in that room I was in?” You asked, munching on the roll Kylo allowed you to have, seeing as you haven’t eaten in so long. He didn’t want you starving honestly.

“The…? Oh, a relative is all.” Kylo was certain you didn’t know who Darth Vader was, considering you mentioned earlier you where left in the dark about things. Not being told things, not being able to go outside even. And he figures that if you did know who Darth Vader was, it’s best not to tell you right as you’re beginning to trust him.

“Oh…Kylo I’m sorry for your loss. I only wish that I don’t feel that same loss regarding my parents.” You replied, hanging your head low. Thinking that at one point you thought it could have been someone he killed. And how it could have been you.

“He is a great role model for me now. I aspire to be like him in so many ways, there is no loss for me. I never knew him. though as much as I wish I did thank you for your concern. And I guarantee your families safety.” Kylo responded, only to bite his tongue when remembering that is not a promise he can make.  

The room went quiet as the two of you exited the cold room and continued to walk down the hallway, you stared at panels on the wall, wondering what they controlled. You had finished off your roll, Kylo kept his mask off and it allowed you to see his facial expressions whenever he looked at you.

“(Y/N), you have a little something…” Kylo started, stopping the two of you from continuing walking and pulled you aside so the two of you weren’t in the middle of the hallway.

Your face fixed into confusion as he raised his hand to you, your eyes widened as you grew anxious but he only wiped bread crumbs off the corner of your lip with his thumb. his hands were noticeably soft, you wouldn’t think that actually. not that you thought about how soft his hands are, it’s just it’s something you’re paying attention to now that it’s happening.

Kylo didn’t fully realize what he was doing, but it felt so natural to just stay there for a little bit, his lips parting ever so slightly while he lifted his other hand and moved it above your waist, there was no grip and he just rested his hand there. He didnt want you to even think he was going to hurt you.

Your lips parted as you let a small breath of air out, a soft shade of pink is what Kylo was putting most of his attention on for the most part. He couldnt even look at your eyes as much as he tried to, but all he could do was stare at your lips and think about how soft they where. What it would feel like to kiss them.

You placed your hands on his chest slowly as the gap between the two of you closed, along with your eyes as your lips collided in a sweet moment of silent bliss.

This lasted for about thirty seconds, just a sweet small kiss. Your stomach felt light, a small buzzing in your chest as you stayed on the tips of your toes even after he pulled apart.

Kylo felt it too, the buzzing in his chest and the light feeling in his head. His eyes remained closed when the two of you pulled apart, only opening when you slid your hands down his chest and put them back at your side.

“W-Wow. some bread crumb, r-right?”

Kylo couldn’t help but smile at this, at this point he didn’t even care for the attachment rule. He was going to keep this his secret.

 You were going to be his secret. 

Lately, I have been deep in thought about life and time and how little we know or understand about this world and our purpose. But I do know one thing, we never know what happens after death. Maybe we are re-born; perhaps we have souls that travel to unknown dimensions afterwards. Or maybe we are simply a brain that will rot meaninglessly in a coffin underground. Or maybe we never truly existed. Our universe could very well be just a labyrinth that formed from a possible outcome of a choice that one single being had to make. We move forward everyday, never knowing if someday we have the possibility of going back. Every single choice we make, we create more and more possible outcomes, creating more and more universes. What I have gathered is that possibility is infinite. I may not know where I am going or how each choice I make will effect my future, but one thing I do know is that I want to make the choices count. I have spent an entire life making choices based on fear. But now I realize what I fear the most is not death; I fear waking up someday when I am old and rotting, to know that out of all the infinite possibilities I’ve had in my lifetime, I wasted them all because I was afraid. I don’t want to die knowing I never lived. We never know if we will have a chance to start again. I think if we all loved instead of feared, we could all die happy. Love is always the answer. Always.

anonymous asked:

Do you like Scandal anymore?

No. Let me explain. I came for the innovative and the historical first in this generation with a polished, educated, black female lead, not the usual stereotyped characterization. No, I was not looking for a magical nigress (rubbish concept if there ever was one), but a multi-dimensional person. What I mean by this is, a flawed, yet compelling human being and her universe (work, love, and life in general). Over the span of three seasons she has become, because of a headwriter’s personal agenda, a bi-polar, nonsensical twit. I have been watching her devolving simply to prop up unworthy tertiary characters whom the more I see, the more I loathe and recognize their lack of skills, further pulling me away from the show.

The savvy political drama I was expecting with just a hint of sex appeal, has turned into a turgid soap opera with very little politics, and really shitty characterizations. The story telling and lack of continuity leaves much to be desired on a weekly basis. You see the showrunner has committed the most cardinal of sins.

She knows nothing about characters and their motivations. In fact, it seems not a major concern of hers. She would rather write what she deems - SHOCKING AND INTERESTING (perhaps to a perverse ameoba with no home training) in order to do that, she uses the actors as props to her “MINDBLOWING” situations and not the other way around.

See a gifted story teller begins with character - what makes them tick and out of that the story is told and through the story, we learn about who and or what is the compunction of the character. Shonda Rhimes, being mediocre, has this backwards and hence the devolution of the series. Ah yes, and there is another point that is salient.

All GREAT memorable stories is a juxtaposition of GOOD and EVIL, they are the cardinal points of all GREAT stories. That is what pulls us in, as well as LOVE. She exists in a miasma of grey and yes, the world is mainly grey, but for someone to care about a story, there has to be that thing that you will not pass, you will not do, the thing striven for. She nullifies this at ever turn. She has no moral compass and that is essential.

Without a moral compass you think it just ducky to have a best friend choked the shit out of another character and think that is just shits and giggles - effectively severing the bond. Without a moral compass, you think it ducky that a man can throw a woman across a room, crack her skull and use her as a personal shield and yet no recourse, no thought yes let’s try to force a relationship down a fandom’s throat and ill affect the ratings because I feel like it. What? Yes, all of this done to the lead, the protagonist in the story.  I could go on but I won’t.

The lack of continuity is also exceptionally bothersome. The show has become very much about nothing, just wash rinse and repeat and the greatest crime committed is to story telling and history deferred in the lack of appropriate use of the BLACK female lead. So much on a subtle level could have been done here. Questions asked through script, without the wailing and gnashing of teeth…just put out there allowing for rather interesting discourse. Yes, I am severely disappointed. I expected  intelligent entertainment.

Even the tertiary characters I once found compelling (Cyrus, Sally, Quinn, Harrison, Holling etc.) have become shades of their former selves.

Now back to your question. It is no longer must watch television. Other shows have taken its place. It is something now that I do not set up the bowl of popcorn and screwdriver to watch with hubby on the couch and glare when anyone makes a sound in the room. It is something I catch up on MAYBE on the weekend and the only two entities that make me do that are Olivia and Fitz and they currently annoy the shit out of me by the pubertal writing ascribed to them. They are adults, intelligent adults and yet, this cretin has them acting like teens and all because she hasn’t the spine to move them forward as a couple.

My original purpose for watching is almost gone. Olivia, a most intelligent woman is spiraling into a waste of space who regurgitates lines with no follow through not 15 minutes later into the show.

Yes I am disappointed in the turn this little show that could is moving towards. If it doesn’t change it is toast. I want it to succeed, so I watch with very little hope that it will eventually, under different leadership, turn a corner and find its greatness.

I am here for the lead and her paramour and nothing else…and even that, given a little more time will be insufficient.

Aren’t you sorry you asked? LOL

itsgifnotgif  asked:

I think it's strange when people say that there's no evidence that you've helped anyone, and then say that just because a few people say you've helped them doesn't mean anything. I just want to thank you. Because the viewers that actually commented their thanks are only a fraction of those who benefitted from your no-bs take on things. If someone's offended, they're offended, but we appreciate that you didn't let their crap defer you from making videos for the rest of us. Thank you.

Things haters say to discredit Onision viewers:
1. His audience is all 12 year olds (despite being proven more than half are 18+ through analy)
2. His audience consists of mindless drones (despite the fact that my viewers regularly share alternative views in the comments of many of my videos)
3. They don’t know who he really is! (despite the fact that I regularly respond to criticism, and have even highlighted many of my flaws in MANY videos)

Bottom line, most people who watch my videos are not little kids, they’re not mindless & they are clearly aware of who I am because I reguarly defend myself publicly from most every accusation sent my way, if they were as ignorant & stupid (unable to receive information as it’s presented) as the haters, they would also waste their lives obsessing over negative bullshit instead of laughing/enjoying YouTube videos.

Onision supporters aren’t the immature, ignorant idiots haters say they are, it’s the other way around. Ironic, they are what they attack others for being, and even if you point it out, it’ll remain as if you never said anything to them at all.