i don't even want to talk about how long this one took me

story time: presidential edition
  • so you know how everyone has a story
  • you know
  • like the story
  • like if you’re at a party and someone turns to you and says, tell the story
  • and you know exactly what they mean
  • the story
  • well 
  • i have a story
  • and not unlike most good stories, it involves three key components:
  • barack obama
  • pre-2008 reebok sneakers 
  • and the absolute earth-shattering horror you can only feel after making the worst mistake of your life

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fleur delacour falling in love with bill weasley because he sees her. his youngest brother looked and went hair-eyes-teeth-legs, thought body, thought sex. her whole life, men have been looking and seeing a thing, not a girl. since she turned thirteen and bud-breasts pressed up against her shirts and boys at school wanted to sit close, men back home lingered too long in hugs.

until she was fifteen she dressed herself in shame before she put any clothes on at all. wore everything a few sizes too big, a few inches too long. draped herself in thick fabrics to hide the body beneath them. never learned that hot eyes on her were the fault of their owners, not her. took the uncomfortable stares and the endless flirtation as a fact of life. was fourteen the first time she dared to say “stop looking!” and met only laughter.

it’s not until she’s nearly sixteen and her sister is turning ten that she sees eyes begin to slide over her and to gabrielle. a friend of their father’s, not even that deep into a bottle of wine, caresses a child-round cheek and murmurs a line from lolita, eyes too bright and lips too dry. gabrielle flickers a panicked glance around the room. that look is so familiar. the same hour fleur switches her baggy sweatshirt for a crop top and rolls her skirt over two inches. 

they will look at her. never at her sister.

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maniacaltoaster  asked:

Do you think it's kinda weird that even though the characters in Villainous don't TECHNICALLY have good designs, while that kind of thing destroys other cartoons, in this one, it seems to work in its favor? Like, they look ridiculous, over the top, and crazy, but that feels like exactly what they're supposed to look like.

oh sweetheart let me tell you a little secret

the people who genuinely think the Villainous character designs are bad don’t know a damn thing about designing characters for animation

STRAP IN FOLKS IT’S TIME FOR ANOTHER RANT LESSON ABOUT ANIMATION CHARACTER DESIGN WITH NOVA (brought to you by SCAD: “I pay $35,000 a year to learn how to make cartoons so trust me I know what I’m talking about”)

The first thing any character design class (including the one I took) will teach you is “have a strong silhouette”

You can probably recognize almost if not every single one of these characters just from their outlines! So let’s take a look at the silhouettes of the Villainous cast…

HOLY SMOKES THEY ARE HELLA DISTINCTIVE!!! And here we even see what is probably the design reason for Dr. Flug’s paper bag and Demencia’s huge fluffy ponytail - they add to the strength of their silhouettes immensely.

Now let’s examine both the shape language of the characters AND how they’re likely divided in terms of their digital puppet rigs (as Villainous appears to use both the hand drawn and rigging techniques), because the former is the second thing any character design class will teach you and the latter is incredibly important to the modern digital 2D animation process. (Apologies if my rig estimates are off, I haven’t had as much experience with 2D rigging as I have with hand drawn.)

Black Hat has the most variety out of the cast, but broken up he’s really just a combination of rectangles, triangles and one or two circles. His hat is also kind of a shape in and of itself, one that comes very naturally when drawing his head. Like a lot of villain characters his sharpness is highly emphasized.

Dr. Flug is ALL about squares and skinny rectangles, with his only rounded shapes being his eyes and shoes. Normally when you see boxy characters they’re on the very masculine or muscular side, meant to seem strong or imposing, but Flug is a wimpy, scrawny twig. That’s really unorthodox and something I like a lot about his look.

What’s super interesting about Demencia is that next to 5.0.5, she has the most circles and rounded shapes. Sharpness is added in her details which makes her design look a lot more complex than it really is. What’s great about digital animation and 2D rigging is it makes characters who have a lot of specific details like her much simpler to animate, so she really isn’t impractical at all provided you’re animating her using a computer.

And finally we have Beariplier Markibear 5.0.5, who I’m sure surprises no one by being a big old round baby full of circles. His nose and snout are of course triangles though. I like how he’s the most intentionally simple out of the cast, even going so far as to have a different eye style that almost makes him look like something out of an ultra-cutesy anime. He doesn’t fit in with and stands out a lot from the others, which is entirely the point.

To sum up, the Villainous characters are both simple enough to animate on a budget/deadline and interesting looking enough to want to watch, the perfect combination for modern 2D digital TV animation. These designs were MADE for a 2017 Cartoon Network show in every sense, with just enough early 2000s influence to feel fresh and new as well as classic and nostalgic. I want these guys to represent and become iconic of CN the same way Finn, Jake, Mordecai and Rigby have.

  • Pete: Hi
  • Brendon: it was the summer of 2001, and Joe meets Patrick and he's like "yo, I know about music." then Patrick's like "yo I know more about music!" "that's impossible. so you wanna start a band?" and Patrick's like, "yeah that's cool." and then, he's like "yo this is a book store not a music store." and then they met at Patrick's house. so Patrick's wearing shorts, socks, and a hat. Patrick is playing drums for some fuckin' reason and then Pete's there for some reason. and they start playing music together and they're like "oh, let's play some covers from some other bands." it was like Green Day, and fuckin' Misfits, and fuckin' Ramones. Pete said to Joe, "yo, that's dope, but we need a fuckin' drummer." because Patrick's playing drums and he's a singer. Patrick's like "yo, I got a soul voice," and they're like "wait how do you have a soul voice?" and he's like "yo, watch this: YEEEEEEeeeeeeEEEEEEeeeeeeeeEEEeeeeeeAAAAAAAAaaaaAAaahhh!" and they're like, "oh my god, that sounds like soul!" so they put it in a song, and it was like, "WHERE IS YOUR BOY TONIIIIIIIiiiiiIIIIIIIIIiiiIIIIIIIGHT?!" and they're like "yo that's fuckin perfect, this is Fall Out Boy." and they made records like Evening Out With Your Ex-Girlfriend. Evening Out With Your Ex-Girlfriend, everybody loves it. "it's called Evening Out With Your Girlfriend." with your ex-girlfriend. it's called evening out with your Ex-girlfriend. it's called eating out your girlfriend, and it's real and it doesn't matter. and Pete talked to Patrick and Joe and he's like "you what the fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck. yo, this is gonna be fuckin' doooooooooope!" so they made a record and it was called Take this to Your Grave. they made it without a drummer, and they had like 3—4 drummers come in. The four drummers they had come in were like Josh Freese, Neil Pert, the dude from Toto, the fourth one was like the guy from Papa Roach or something, and they're like "you, we need Andy Hurley. Andy Hurley. Take This to Your Grave. Fuckin' record it." and he did, and he killed it, and he was like "bigidalililililillillilila, PSHHH!" killin' the skin, tapping the skins, tapping the rim, playin' the shit, killing these bitches, rapping it out. you're getting a fucking tattoo right now?! what the fuck is going on?! We should get signed to Fueled By Ramen, 'cause thee guys know what the fuck is going on. and they were like "yo, if you can make our scene any bigger than it is, which is not fuckin' hard, we will sign you guys." and Pete was like "yo, we got this record that's fuckin' dooooooope, dude, it's called Take This to Your Grave, it's called From Under the Cork Tree it's gonna be fucking huge." and then Patrick's like "I gotta keep it real, I gotta keep it artistic, these are three songs that are gonna make the album and it's called-BURP-Thnks Fr th Mmrs, 20 Dollar Nose Bleed, and Sugar, Were Goin' Down. and they made this record that was fuckin' dope, and it fucking hit on the charts like one two three, three two one, three four five six seven eight nine ten. ten to one. From Under the Cork Tree sold like four million records. ten million records. fifteen million records. and Brendon Urie had nothing to do with the entire record. and Patrick was like "that's gooooOOOOoooooOOOOOOOOd." Pete was like, "yo, fuck you I can do whatever I want." and Joe was like, "yeah it's cool man whatever I don't give a shit." and then Andy was like "eh, cool." and Pete was like "Make up is fuckin' great for a guy. because it makes a guy look beautiful, which a lot of times, a guy is not beautiful. and I wanna change that. I wanna make sure everyone thinks that guys are beautiful." I'm good so far yeah. yeah I do. SHUT THE FUCK. oh fuck, alright alright. Pete was like "oh my god, I'm so embarrassed about this dick pic." and then I saw the dick pic and was like "ah it's not bad." it's not a bad dick. let's be real. we made Rollins Stones one issue before Fall Out Boy. and Fall Out Boy made the issue right after us and they were so pissed they were like "yo, fuck you guys!" they're like "yo! Panic! has the fuckin' cover for Rolling Stones, yo, fuck these dudes, we're gonna fucking go miles above. we're gonna hit every fuckin' continent there is known to man." but they didn't because they missed a second of time. apparently they were like "oh shit, we got every continent." and they didn't actually hit it. dude, and Pete was like, "WHAT THE FUCK?! 'oh you didn't fuckin' make the continent' it's like FUCK YOU!" so From Under the Cork Tree happens, we fuckin' have three-four years of awesomeness. like, people are coming in themselves 'cause it's so big. Alright so Fall Out Boy was like-- so Patrick's like "yo, we are going to name these records from under the Cork tree and from Innity-- from infinity on high." Pete was like "yo folie à deux means the theatric of two." "The madness of two." oh sorry I'm sorry. follow boy was like "yo we got to take a break." Meaning Pete was like "yo we got to take a break bro." and Patrick's like "I need time for my music. UHUhUhUHuhUUUh." and joes like "yo I need time to find the fucking art dude I got to find some fucking me-- metal" and andys like "i'm just gonna play with some fucking metal bands." and they're like "all right this breaks been like three years long two years long three years long 3 1/2? we gotta fucking come back man we gotta come back strong." you took my beer away what the fuck? "no you poured it all over yourself." "yeah you poured it on yourself man here." "we got to make this shit legit it's gonna be fucking dope it's going to go fucking sky high. we're going to make a fucking record that sails the skies. we're going to call this record save rock 'n' roll." so they made alone together light 'em up alone together Phoenix. and everybody's like "what the fuck? you're working with this guy who fuckin' recorded Avril Lavigne and P!nk." is this pu-- what the fuck is this on my shirt, did I puke on myself? oh god. Pete was like "yo were gonna end up on a tour with Panic! At The Disco and twenty pilots. and that's all and that's all that matters. and that's just how the fuckin' story goes."

anonymous asked:

why don't you like kathleen kennedy? shes the only female and she seems nice

it’s april 2017 and there are still people who dont know kk is a white demon

  • kk is an icon of white feminism.
  • when she doesn’t get involved directly, female characters’ looks get incredibly diverse (animated series or novels etc. although, we can’t say they treat women of color well.)
  • new female actresses who play lead roles, d ridley, f jones, and e clarke are all white brunette (just like her). this is my personal opinion but for me, f jones was the weakest part in rogue one because of her emontionless and soulless performance, but kk was the one who insisted on casting her and she’s very proud of it. we haven’t seen clarke’s performance in the upcoming han solo film yet but she’s already very famous for horrible eyebrow acting (even her fans admit it). tessa thompson and zoe kravitz, who also auditioned for clarke’s role, is obviously better than her.
  • (also, i think the rogue one novel was a bit better but the movie was… it focuses on the white woman, who didn’t care about the rebellion but only herself then becomes a hero. it’s not feminism when men of color are used to spotlight a white woman, especially when one of them has sacrificed everything for the rebellion from when he was a very young kid. when i heard jyn’s character was originally more like cassian i couldn’t stop groaning because THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN SO MUCH BETTER.)
  • ‘for some reason’ she keeps thinking white brunette women are the most ideal people to get the roles. even if she’s doing it unconsciously, it doesn’t change the fact that’s racism. she’s a racist.
  • and when you are a racist you can’t be a feminist because feminism means you support all the women.
  • she seems very passionate when she talks about rey and jyn but when it’s about other actors who are men of color she suddenly becomes silent?? and she talks about this “girl power” a lot but when it’s about races, ethnicities and diversity she doesn’t say anything? it’s always the directors who sat next to her who speak about it, or actors of color themselves. her “girl power” only involves white women and yet she said star wars represented the world. 
  • she was a producer of complete disaster : avatar the last airbender movie, where almost everyone got whitewashed, which means she learned nothing from her past.
  • @kyber-sphere replied:  Actually, she isn’t even a feminist. Every time someone asks questions about “girl power” in panels she gets obviously irritated. One time, she was even dismissive towards the person who asked it too.

Yet another from this long list of prompts, completely unprompted.

Number Twelve: “I’m pregnant.”


The text came in at 7:17am, and in the mean time, Stiles had made his way through four and a half breakdowns, all of them for different reasons.

Number One: Male werewolves could get pregnant, and tying into that:

Number Two: Derek had never found it relevant to their two year relationship to share this fun fact. That didn’t say much as to his thoughts on their future together, which stung.

Number Three: Stiles was going to be a father at twenty-four.

Number Four: Just the night before, with Derek in Argentina visiting Cora, Stiles ate a dinner of Cheetos, plain microwaved hotdogs wrapped in bread, and four beers before passing out on the couch with the tv remote in his hand. He was not ready to be a father.

Number Five (still ongoing, more or less halfway through): They were going to have to move because no amount of corner guards or stupid little outlet plugs could childproof the loft. The door to the kitchen was literally a jagged hole in a brick wall. Stiles caught his shins on it regularly, they were always a mess of scabs and bruises.

Actually his entire body was a mess of scabs and bruises, because that was his life now, had been since sophomore year: fighting off the forces of supernatural evil.

Too bad he couldn’t childproof his life.

Oh god, they were going to have to move out of Beacon Hills. Away from the pack.

Nothing was stable in Beacon Hills, it had been eight years of panic and anxiety and near deaths and actual deaths. They couldn’t bring a baby into their current lives, Stiles wouldn’t even bring an adult into this hellhole. Who was trained in firearms. With combat experience.

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So Something Happened at Phoenix Con

I’m not usually one to complain, or criticize, or speak out at all really. I’m one of those fans that just quietly sits in the corner and admires from afar, silently praising all the guys for what they do. But every now and again, someone does something that lights me up, and I’m off like a firecracker.

As I’m sure you’ve concluded, that happened recently.

I’m a Jared girl, but I love and respect all the actors equally. Respect being a keyword here. Phoenix con 2017 is going on now. As it so happens, that’s exactly where this incident took place. Yesterday. On the day mostly recognized as Misha’s day of the con.

Let’s all just agree that Misha is an incredible human okay? He’s actual such an incredible human that he borders on being a real life angel. He deserves all the good things in the world. Which is why I am particularly fired up because of what happened.

**Not naming names because this is not to bash anyone, just to draw attention to the fact that these are people with real, human emotions**

I’m going to summarize this the best I can because, honestly, the more I talk about it the angrier I get (and I’m not an angry person, this just really doesn’t sit well with me).

Long story short, there was a con-goer that had been to a con in the past and she had Misha sign her arm. Misha had said that if she still had the autograph on her arm the next time he saw her, he would buy her ice cream. No harm in that part. This is where things start getting…. Uncomfortable.

The girl then decided she was going to take Misha up on that (which, admit it, we would all try to keep Misha’s auto on us as long as we could, bet or not). But, instead of doing any number of options that would be considered safe and acceptable, she peeled off her skin, including the autograph, and preserved it.

Are you still with me? Hold on. I’m not done yet.

At Phoenix Con, she then adhered it back to her skin. Now, I’m not sure if she showed it to him during a panel, or ops, or autos, or where. But when she did show it to him, he told her to take it off.

**this is where I get seriously pissed**

So, she takes it off. AND FUCKING THROWS IT AT HIM.

This girl, who claims to love and respect Misha Collins throws a piece of her dry, dead, decaying skin at him. It lands in his lap and his handler has to come pick it up. She tries to excuse it by saying ‘it’s all in good fun’ and that he’s ‘used to her by now’, but let’s make a few things clear.

It’s all in good fun? I’m sorry, I have never once in my life have gone around throwing preserved skin at people for the fun of it. And I’ve asked some of my friends (the ones that wouldn’t call the cops on me for asking such a question) and they all said the same thing. I don’t care if you’re a celebrity or Mary Jane that lives next door, people don’t like having dead skin thrown on them. Especially a stranger’s skin.

Secondly, no matter how many times we meet them, they really don’t know us. They don’t know if you’ve got any diseases. They might not even recognize you, really. How many times have you seen someone at work over and over and over again but don’t really know them? I have. I’ll admit it. And you know what? It is my job to interact and build report with customers. And I’m not a celebrity – I don’t have millions of people begging for time with me.

I guess I made this post for a few reasons:

1.       Is my anger justified or misplaced? Taking into consideration that, while I’ve never met them (Pitt Con is so far away), I do love them like they’re family

2.       I’m open to opinions.

3.       I want to make a PSA that Jared, Jensen, and Misha – hell EVERYONE – are human. Don’t do something to them that you wouldn’t like having done to you. If you wouldn’t like have dead animals thrust into your hand, don’t make them hold one. If you wouldn’t like someone to throw decaying organs on you, don’t do it to them! You paid money for a ticket to the con. You did not pay money to abuse them.

I know I’m going to probably get hate for this, and to be honest, I really don’t care. If you think I’m right, great. I’m glad someone sees this from where I’m at and finds it just as wrong as I do. If you think I’m wrong then… well, you keep doing whatever you think is right. We’ll agree to disagree.

tl;dr – Don’t throw your decaying, preserved skin at Misha because he’s a human and it’s disgusting on so many levels. Show him respect. Show all of them respect. You know Misha is too kind to say anything about how uncomfortable it makes him, so just save everyone from being awkward, and save the fandom from feeling like we have to apologize for the actions of a single fan.

Plagues Against Mankind That We Shouldn’t Have To Deal With At This Point What The Huck

  • When your hair looks beyond amazing but no matter how many pictures you take it looks bad on film so you’re left alone in your room at 4:43 am suffering because you’ll now never have photographic evidence of the time your hair looked like it was styled by the angel’s themselves just in time for you to rush off to the Royal Ball. Only you will ever have this knowledge. You know the hair will be a mess by the time you see another human being again. Cursed.
  • Un-skippable ads in the MIDDLE of videos. what the hell.
  • When you order a Bloody Mary but it just tastes like straight tomato juice and nothing else
  • When you’re romantically frustrated and No One Wants To Take One For The Team And Just Date You Already
  • M. Night Shyamalan announcing a live action Avatar: The Last Airbender Two in 2017 the Year the Lord Abandoned Us, Apparently
  • The unseen forces that walk and jump on your roof all night long. They sound too heavy to be squirrels or raccoons. You never see anything up there when you check outside. You go back inside and the noises immediately resume, only this time you can now hear them laughing at you. Why Cant The Invisible Edgelords Remain Calm
  • Those birds that just dive right in front of your moving car
  • Owls in places and times where there Shouldn’t Be Owls
  • Donald Trump
  • When the dude living in your walls won’t stop blasting his techno bop music 
  • Having to use your rock pet to kill attacking bugs because you have no other means of defense 
  • the fact that I don’t know how to access podcasts and if I ask I’ll sound stupid
  • When your glasses are always smudged or dirty no matter what the hell you do seriously how the hell has no one invented something to stop this yet
  • When the Slurpee machines are always out of blue raspberry 
  • When people reference ‘the office’ while talking to you but you don’t get the joke because you’ve never seen ‘the office’ and when you tell them that you’ve never seen ‘the office’ they look at you as if you personally skinned their great grandmother alive
  • That…the fricking,,,,,,warm thing in the air that makes my body moist. Why that there. unnecessary attack from the planet. why. I want sweaters not sweat 
  • the fact that I Have No One To See Spider-Man:Homecoming With And I Am Distressed
  • When the wild rabbits don’t pick up on your psychic communication that you are one of them and they run from you
  • When the wine is expired 
  • When your favorite flowers only bloom for like one week a year
  • The fact that you are currently not eating chocolate 
  • Donald Trump
  • The fact that there currently is not Buffalo Chicken Dip entering my body
  • Those people that walk up moving escalators 
  • The guy that dresses up as Sulley in Disney World that grabbed my ass when I took a picture with him
  • Every Villain Is Lemon 
  • When all of your facebook memories are boring or depressing
  • The Cicadas That Are Laying In Wait
  • Those people that are rude to waiters and waitresses 
  • When you wanna write something but you’re hit with the overwhelming feeling that no one will ever wanna read it so What’s The Point
  • Batteries dying
  • The Vampire That Twerks Behind You Every Time You Look In A Mirror But You Can’t See Him Because He’s A Vampire But You Have The Overwhelming Feeling Of Knowledge That There’s A Vampire Twerking Behind You
  • The fact that Owen Wilson will never truly know we Value Him
  • When you’re not even making noise but a random old man complains about how much noise you’re making
  • The fact that there isn’t a 24/7 Law and Order: SVU channel 
  • People who can’t make up their minds about Dr. Phil
  • Cramps
  • really just wanna circle back here to the fact that my hair looks amazing right now I look like a 16th century maiden who is escaping her tower to attend the ball where she must slay the beast to save the kingdom this is my authentic past life coming through to make my hair look effortlessly gorgeous but the camera is not cooperating and No One Will Ever Truly Know 

  • Good tv shows getting cancelled 
  • People that unironically wanna have sex with Bill Cipher 
  • Being awake at 5:36 in the morning
  • The glowing orb that refuses to move out of your sock drawer 
  • Those little green men that sometimes escape out of jars in your cabinets and you gotta battle them for dominance of your own kitchen or else they’ll add too much paprika to all your meals…like, what’s their deal?
  • cats that don’t love you back
  • papayas 
  • Clovers that don’t have four leafs 
  • When you have to have matching socks to look professional 
  • ageing 
  • the T-Rex that insists on stomping down the street every time you’re trying to sleep
  • Aliens being hidden by the government 
  • When you rhyme by accident 
  • When you try to rhyme on purpose but can’t think of anything 
  • The fact that I just had to google how to spell ‘rhyme’
  • Gender Stereotypes 
  • The decreasing firefly population 
  • 7th graders that constantly stick their fingers through circles as a means of silently making sex jokes
  • Weeds that are taller than me I must be the Dominant Inconvenience
  • Fahrenheit vs Celsius
  • Telemarketers
  • Those guys that come up to your house to try to get you to buy Verizon Fios 
  • We’re Running Out Of Chocolate 
  • When John Oliver Steals Words Out Of Your Mouth Before You Can Even Think Them Like The Creature From Midnight
  • Zac Efron not showing up to the HSM 10th anniversary party
  • People who just really causally do splits or impossible stretches while your tensed up immobile ass is forced to watch
  • When You start doing squats but it starts making your butt get smaller and you grow distressed
  • People that are, like, unironically mean to other people. What the f o c k
  • All my socks developing holes in them
  • Crushes that go nowhere
  • the fact that no one ever thinks to respect the soft, gentle Molepeople that have been quietly helping our civilization along without reward for hundreds of centuries 
  • Werewolves getting mistaken for Skinwalkers 
  • The giant ball of flesh under the ocean that’s just waiting to destroy us all
  • People Who Don’t Get Your Sense Of Humor 
  • No one acknowledging your selfies
  • Hunters and Cryptozoologists not taking the hint that Bigfoot simply isn’t interested 
  • The fact I can’t figure out a clever way to end this post



  • Mankind Becoming the Plague Itself 
  • Conan O’Brien and his immense hidden power that everyone chooses to foolishly ignore. One day, he will reveal his true form and strike.
Me as a parent
  • kid: mom tell me a story
  • me: it was the summer of 2001, and Joe meets Patrick and he's like "yo, I know about music." then Patrick's like "yo I know more about music!" "that's impossible. so you wanna start a band?" and Patrick's like, "yeah that's cool." and then, he's like "yo this is a book store not a music store." and then they met at Patrick's house. so Patrick's wearing shorts, socks, and a hat. Patrick is playing drums for some fuckin' reason and then Pete's there for some reason. and they start playing music together and they're like "oh, let's play some covers from some other bands." it was like Green Day, and fuckin' Misfits, and fuckin' Ramones. Pete said to Joe, "yo, that's dope, but we need a fuckin' drummer." because Patrick's playing drums and he's a singer. Patrick's like "yo, I got a soul voice," and they're like "wait how do you have a soul voice?" and he's like "yo, watch this: YEEEEEEeeeeeeEEEEEEeeeeeeeeEEEeeeeeeAAAAAAAAaaaaAAaahhh!" and they're like, "oh my god, that sounds like soul!" so they put it in a song, and it was like, "WHERE IS YOUR BOY TONIIIIIIIiiiiiIIIIIIIIIiiiIIIIIIIGHT?!" and they're like "yo that's fuckin perfect, this is Fall Out Boy." and they made records like Evening Out With Your Ex-Girlfriend. Evening Out With Your Ex-Girlfriend, everybody loves it. "it's called Evening Out With Your Girlfriend." with your ex-girlfriend. it's called evening out with your Ex-girlfriend. it's called eating out your girlfriend, and it's real and it doesn't matter. and Pete talked to Patrick and Joe and he's like "you what the fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck. yo, this is gonna be fuckin' doooooooooope!" so they made a record and it was called Take this to Your Grave. they made it without a drummer, and they had like 3—4 drummers come in. The four drummers they had come in were like Josh Freese, Neil Pert, the dude from Toto, the fourth one was like the guy from Papa Roach or something, and they're like "you, we need Andy Hurley. Andy Hurley. Take This to Your Grave. Fuckin' record it." and he did, and he killed it, and he was like "bigidalililililillillilila, PSHHH!" killin' the skin, tapping the skins, tapping the rim, playin' the shit, killing these bitches, rapping it out. you're getting a fucking tattoo right now?! what the fuck is going on?! We should get signed to Fueled By Ramen, 'cause thee guys know what the fuck is going on. and they were like "yo, if you can make our scene any bigger than it is, which is not fuckin' hard, we will sign you guys." and Pete was like "yo, we got this record that's fuckin' dooooooope, dude, it's called Take This to Your Grave, it's called From Under the Cork Tree it's gonna be fucking huge." and then Patrick's like "I gotta keep it real, I gotta keep it artistic, these are three songs that are gonna make the album and it's called-BURP-Thnks Fr th Mmrs, 20 Dollar Nose Bleed, and Sugar, Were Goin' Down. and they made this record that was fuckin' dope, and it fucking hit on the charts like one two three, three two one, three four five six seven eight nine ten. ten to one. From Under the Cork Tree sold like four million records. ten million records. fifteen million records. and Brendon Urie had nothing to do with the entire record. and Patrick was like "that's gooooOOOOoooooOOOOOOOOd." Pete was like, "yo, fuck you I can do whatever I want." and Joe was like, "yeah it's cool man whatever I don't give a shit." and then Andy was like "eh, cool." and Pete was like "Make up is fuckin' great for a guy. because it makes a guy look beautiful, which a lot of times, a guy is not beautiful. and I wanna change that. I wanna make sure everyone thinks that guys are beautiful." I'm good so far yeah. yeah I do. SHUT THE FUCK. oh fuck, alright alright. Pete was like "oh my god, I'm so embarrassed about this dick pic." and then I saw the dick pic and was like "ah it's not bad." it's not a bad dick. let's be real. we made Rollins Stones one issue before Fall Out Boy. and Fall Out Boy made the issue right after us and they were so pissed they were like "yo, fuck you guys!" they're like "yo! Panic! has the fuckin' cover for Rolling Stones, yo, fuck these dudes, we're gonna fucking go miles above. we're gonna hit every fuckin' continent there is known to man." but they didn't because they missed a second of time. apparently they were like "oh shit, we got every continent." and they didn't actually hit it. dude, and Pete was like, "WHAT THE FUCK?! 'oh you didn't fuckin' make the continent' it's like FUCK YOU!" so From Under the Cork Tree happens, we fuckin' have three-four years of awesomeness. like, people are coming in themselves 'cause it's so big. Alright so Fall Out Boy was like-- so Patrick's like "yo, we are going to name these records from under the Cork tree and from Innity-- from infinity on high." Pete was like "yo folie à deux means the theatric of two." "The madness of two." oh sorry I'm sorry. follow boy was like "yo we got to take a break." Meaning Pete was like "yo we got to take a break bro." and Patrick's like "I need time for my music. UHUhUhUHuhUUUh." and joes like "yo I need time to find the fucking art dude I got to find some fucking me-- metal" and andys like "i'm just gonna play with some fucking metal bands." and they're like "all right this breaks been like three years long two years long three years long 3 1/2? we gotta fucking come back man we gotta come back strong." you took my beer away what the fuck? "no you poured it all over yourself." "yeah you poured it on yourself man here." "we got to make this shit legit it's gonna be fucking dope it's going to go fucking sky high. we're going to make a fucking record that sails the skies. we're going to call this record save rock 'n' roll." so they made alone together light 'em up alone together Phoenix. and everybody's like "what the fuck? you're working with this guy who fuckin' recorded Avril Lavigne and P!nk." is this pu-- what the fuck is this on my shirt, did I puke on myself? oh god. Pete was like "yo were gonna end up on a tour with Panic! At The Disco and twenty pilots. and that's all and that's all that matters. and that's just how the fuckin' story goes."

I’m not sure why I hate the epilogue of Harry Potter so much, but I always imagine Harry getting completely BORED of normal life a year into it. He can’t handle it. His life has always been filled with trouble, kind of like Lord Tennyson’s view of Ulysses, and he goes stir-crazy, engaging in reckless behaviour almost daily. Hermione is worried sick because it’s causing Harry and Ginny to fight. ‘You got through all you went through in your 19 years just to kill yourself on some bloody dare?!’

Draco Malfoy shows up on Hermione’s twentieth birthday with a story of how he can’t handle how he was a coward and talks of how he killed a demon that tried to devour an old lady on the outskirts of muggle London. He says he wants to do this again; the thrill of it was amazing but he needs a partner or two. Harry and Hermione are all for it. Hermione, too, has grown tired of the Ministry life. After all, she has already secured rights for elves and goblins if they want them; that only took her a year. Hunting evil things is appealing, and she’ll be helping not only the wizarding community but the non-magical one as well.

Ginny is furious and leaves Harry for Blaise Zambini. Ron is not keen on more adventure, either. He decides he would rather help George at the joke shop than work with a Malfoy, although he, Harry, and Hermione will stay in touch. ‘Write to me every week,’ he threatens, 'or else.’

Harry, Hermione, and Draco go on to live their lives doing the things Gilderoy Lockhart only claimed to do: battling demons, ghosts, poltergeists, sirens, urban legends, vampires, and more –all with a magical tent and three wands instead of a Chevy Impala and guns.

They call on Luna Lovegood whenever they encounter a creature they know next to nothing about, pop in on the Weasleys from time to time, and even allow Ginny to write books of their travels based on Hermione’s obsessive journal-keeping.

They become animagi. Hermione watches in surprise as her patronus changes into something unexpected. To her utmost delight, they learn about different forms of magic, even gain new magical abilities whenever they encounter a wise tutor well-versed in the more obscure magical arts.

Odd things happening while on the road are completely normal: one time, this crazy drunk American fangirl dressed up like Supergirl, who went by the name of Charlie Bradbury, latched onto Hermione’s back like koala bear when they were investigating a case at Comic-Con and wouldn’t let go, proclaiming as loud as that Banshee that one time in Ireland that Hermione was her idol, and that she was so glad she didn’t actually marry Ron.

'She reminds me of you when you were around Gilderoy Lockhart,’ Harry had said with great fondness afterwards. The backhand he took to the gut and death glare from his best friend, he thought, were completely worth it. 'Look at it this way, Hermione, she was so drunk she got a Princess Leia tattoo. She won’t remember anything.’

Imagine Hermione frustrated and flustered with her head in her hands as Harry and Draco’s school rivalry almost cost them their lives yet again. Then, she loses her temper, and both boys shrink back in fear. 'Has she always been this scary?’ Draco mutters out of the corner of his mouth to which Harry can only nod furiously. The disappointment the both of them feel is almost childlike. Draco and Harry become very close. Killing creatures will bond even the worst enemies together.

It changes Draco. All of his prior prejudice is smashed having spent so much time with his childhood rivals, and he becomes a much better person for it. Harry is reminded of Snape, and how Dumbledore once voiced he thought they sorted too early. Maybe Draco belonged in Gryffindor, too. Though the pain etched deep within Draco is visibly fading, it will never go away completely, and Harry often wonders what would have happened had he been sorted into Gryffindor with them.

Harry, however, is fully satisfied in that moment. They are in the middle of a hunt. Sitting against the front of the tent in a small forest on the east border of Paris, Harry lets out a long sigh. It is the first time he feels truly at ease in a while. Adjusting his glasses, he takes in the loving and relaxing company of two of his closest friends.

Draco is fiddling with the old radio, and tears of laughter escape Hermione as she reads. This is normal night for all of them. 'Albus Severus?!’ she hollers, unable to keep her grip on the novel that has her undivided attention. The pumkin-coloured book falls, still open, flat on her stomach, and she dissolves completely into a fit of giggles. 'Muggles have quite the imagination these days, don’t they, Harry?’

'It’s not that bad of a name,’ Draco says, rolling his eyes. He turns the dial on the radio, and a hauntingly familiar tune sounds through it. His annoyed frown is replaced by a smirk, 'Your song is playing, you two.’

Harry can’t help but snort. Hermione throws a sarcastic remark towards Draco over the name Scorpious, before Harry finds himself being dragged to his feet by his childhood friend. Green eyes meet brown ones with a grin. They can’t not dance to 'Oh Children.’

Holding Hermione’s body close to him and swaying to the music under the stars, not all that different from the time they did a little over five years ago, he knows he made the right choice in going on the road. He is drinking life to the lees. This brilliant life with all its scars, beauty, and constant excitement is magical. It has made everything well again.

—  Non-Canon Epilogue : Drinking Life to the Lees

anonymous asked:

hi just wanna ask u, as a lebanese muslim, what defense do u have if any, for israel's invasion of palestine. i agree completely that Jewish ppl deserve a homeland just as any one else does but to invade an already existing and developed nation is cruel. i know ur not 100% pro-israel but i just want to hear ur side bc u don't seem to extremely support either israel/palestine. also, im antizionist but i fail to see how this makes me antisemitic? i have nothing against jewish ppl, just israel. ty

OK. I’m going to break this down a bit because there’s are many components to your ask and some of them are contradictory.

1. Agreeing that the Jewish people deserve a homeland is a form of Zionism. I’m frustrated by the term “anti-zionist” for a number of reasons, especially considering very few people who use the term seem to actually know what Zionism even is, or what it sounds like to most Jews. 

2. Many far right Jew haters use the term “Zionist” interchangeably with Jew and many anti-zionists who are predominantly concerned with the plight of the Palestinians end up buying into all sorts of antisemitic ideas because they’re sold as “anti-zionist.” This is incredibly dangerous to us as it allows antisemitism to be transmitted under a different label and far too few anti-zionists bother to challenge these ideas, allowing them to spread. This is dangerous for Jews and it makes it harder for us to take anti-zionists seriously when they say they aren’t antisemitic.

3. As far as Israel is concerned the circumstances are complicated and too many people try to simplify it by acting like either the Palestinians don’t exist as a people, which is wrong, or that the Jews were pure colonialist invaders which is equally wrong. This drives me nuts. So I’m going to have to break this down a bit. 

Most of the challenges I see to Zionism as practiced by Herzl and Ben Gurion are cherry picked and largely irrelevant to the cause’s necessity. Had there not been multiple waves of refugees, I probably wouldn’t support what they were doing. I also wouldn’t exist. Let me break this down a bit.

British Mandate Palestine’s Jewish Population DOUBLED between 1933 and 1939. The reason for this is twofold.

1. Nazi Germany came into existence, took over neighboring countries and began their steady process of destroying Jewish rights and safety. We all know where that led.

2. Britain, who was controlling Palestine at the time, kept immigration there open when most other countries, including the British mainland and the USA were closed. History has proven that they did, indeed, save their lives by fleeing there.

In 1939, the White Paper, in response to Palestinian protests and revolts, severely restricted Jewish immigration to British Mandate Palestine, left Jews with almost nowhere to run, right when WWII was beginning and the worst effects of Nazism were about to be felt. 

Now here’s my question. Would you bar Jews fleeing Nazism from entering the country? Knowing what we know now? Knowing that nowhere else was taking them in? 

Jewish immigration to Palestine slowed to a trickle during the Holocaust and Jews were literally trapped in Nazi occupied Europe and North Africa. 6 million died. This is historical fact.

After the Holocaust, the survivors who tried to go home faced pogroms, yet were barred from immigrating. They were forced to live in refugee camps. Again, no country made a significant effort to let them in. The USA wouldn’t until 1949 until AFTER Israel’s founding. My grandparents came to the USA because of the Refugee act of 1949. For survivors before 1949, it was Israel, pogroms or homelessness.

The next major wave of immigration to Israel were Jews in the Middle East and North Africa who were driven out of their own countries for being “Zionists” regardless of whether or not they actually were Zionists. These Jews actually form a majority of Israel’s current population. They were driven out and Israel took them in. What alternative did they have?

Finally Jews from the USSR and Ethiopia were facing brutal, systemic oppression and they came to Israel to live safely and freely among their own people, options they didn’t have elsewhere.

Now, here is my problem. Much of the rhetoric and tactics employed by anti-zionists don’t just demonize the Israeli government or state, but Israeli people, the majority of whom are Israeli because they were fleeing for their lives and safety. This is thrown in the garbage bin in favor of throwing out false equivalencies to the Boers or the British Empire. There is a level of hatred thrown at average Israeli Jewish citizens I don’t see thrown at the residents of any other country that is guilty of comparable crimes. I don’t recall seeing people damning Russian actors for being Russian the way I see Gal Gadot being damned for being Israeli. I personally live in the United States, a country built on slavery and genocide, and I don’t see instant hate the way Israeli Jews do. And, had circumstances been even slightly different, my grandparents would’ve moved to Israel instead of the USA after the Holocaust and they would’ve suddenly been treated as evil.

I don’t particularly care at this point about a one or two state solution, though I oppose the idea of annexation as being suggested by the Settler movement because it would result in genuine apartheid. What I do care about is fostering a reality where Jews and Palestinians can live side-by-side as neighbors either in neighboring countries or in the same countries and that will be impossible so long as demonization of Israeli Jews remains a major part of the pro-Palestine movement. How do you expect Jews and Palestinians to live as neighbors when they are taught to hate each other and are egged on by foreigners? 

Peace of any sort can’t happen until people actually want peace and the current environment is so grotesquely driven by hatred and demonization that I don’t see any solution as viable until we see major changes in how it’s discussed. But when Israeli voices, even moderate and liberal ones, are shut up, that is impossible. You can’t make peace with people you refuse to even talk to. This has to stop. 

Plagiarized fics - asking for help from the 1D fandom

Hi everyone! I’m poking my head in your door from the Haikyuu fandom to ask you guys for help. I have spoken to quite a few people in the One Direction fandom thus far and I have been overwhelmed by their kindness, support, and how fast everyone I talked to acted to help me and my friend get this sorted out.

It came to my and my best friend ellessey-writes’s attention (confusing names, sorry! I’m Esselle) this morning that many of our fics had been stolen by the Tumblr/AO3 user Fruxoo, who has since deleted her accounts.

Here are two screenshots of Fruxoo’s fics, posted in April. The first is a direct copy of my story Hunger, completed last June 2016. The second is the summary from Ellie’s story Tea and Sympathy, posted January of this year. The entire text of every fic Fruxoo stole has been copied almost exactly word for word from our fics, changing only the names and other relevant character info.

I messaged her privately and asked that she post an explanation on Tumblr, as well as replace the text of her stolen works with links to our respective stories, in order to notify any readers who enjoyed these works. Unfortunately, she didn’t respond. Now that she has taken everything down, that’s no longer possible.

It would mean the world to Ellie and I if people would help spread the word about what happened. Last year, between the two of us, we wrote 626,000 words. We poured all our energy and love (and time!) into these stories, and to have someone copy them word for word, lie to people who were kind enough to comment or send asks as if they had thought up the ideas on their own, and interact with other people in the 1D fandom based off of love for OUR writing, is devastating to us both. This was going on for at least 2.5 months.

Besides the two stories listed above, we know As Long As You’re Smiling was actually copied from ellessey-writes​​‘s fic The Chronicles of the Virgin Asahi. We think this is the first fic they grabbed, due to the note on the summary. Here is a masterpost of all Ellie’s works from last year, and a link to her AO3.

They also took my incubus story Dreamless and reposted it as Lilin. This fic was posted as a part of a collab for my close friend’s artwork. reallycorking​​ drew this (VERY NSFW) art as part of a 30 day challenge, and the two of us worked together for a full month on Dreamless. Here is my fic masterpost for last year, and a link to my AO3.

I wanted to share links to the rest of our work because we don’t know how many stories she stole (it seemed like there were around 10 in total). We didn’t even have time to make a note of everything before she removed her accounts. So we don’t know what people read and might want to re-find (if there’s any interest cross-fandom).

Again, the One Direction fandom has been so incredibly supportive (Gina, Ange, phd-mama, Emmi, Lisa and everyone who was so helpful and understanding). Ellie and I started off the morning crushed, and now I have comments in my inbox on the fics that were stolen, and asks on Tumblr showing support, and it’s nearly brought me to tears. Thank you all so much. If anyone who sees this would be kind enough to get the word out there in any way (reblogs, just telling your friends who’ve read these stories, anything!!), we’d be incredibly grateful.

THANK YOU, to everyone who takes the time to read this.

Confrontations

Based off of @letkeithinfodump’s lovely Langst post

Do Not Tag As Sh/@nce or Sh/e!th or any other Sh@/adin ships


Lance could feel himself start to shake as Shiro had announced to them who he chose to lead Voltron in case he couldn’t.

It was Keith.

Lance took a breath and balled up his fist. He swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to blink away the stinging in his eyes as he stared at the floor.

Why should he even be surprised? It’s not as though he couldn’t see Shiro’s obvious bias towards Pidge and Keith. He knew that it wasn’t their fault or that they meant to be favored but it stung and he was getting increasingly frustrated at this.

Lance bit his lip before taking another deep breath and trying to calm himself down before catching Shiro’s shoulder when he told them to disperse.

“Shiro? Can I talk to you about something?” Lance asked

“Uh, yeah sure, about what?”

Another breath. “I wanted to talk to you about choosing Keith as the back-up leader.”

Shiro quirked a brow, Lance could tell he was going to have a hard time with this.

“Well you see Shiro…Keith…Keith isn’t a good choice for leader,” Lance had to fight to keep eye contact with Shiro, “you see he’s…impulsive and a hot-head. He’s a nice guy but he’s put us all in danger on numerous occasions beause he didn’t follow an order and he voted to leave Allura behind and-!” Lance could feel his confidence rise but Shiro raised a hand to silence him.

“Lance, I understand your concern but I’ve made my decision already.”

Shiro turned around and left Lance there with his anger festering and his pride hurt even more than before.

He ignored him.

Again.

Lance bit into his lip so hard it felt like it might draw blood. He felt the familiar sting at the back of his eyes and the heat on his neck. He blinked his vision in and out of focus as he felt his body shake with anger.

Lance was the only one left in the console room, so his voice echoed and bounced back to him with just as much disappointment and anger it had when the words left his lips.

You’re not the you I thought you were.”


The next time Lance brings it up is when he’s hardened his attitude towards Shiro’s behaviour. He knows it’s not exactly his fault but the way he brushes Lance off is unacceptable and this time, Lance is Not Having It.

“Shiro.” Lance walked up to Shiro, he rather have missed all of the break between training than have to keep in his feelings.

Shiro turned around and sighed, “Lance, look, I know-” but this time it was Lance who cut Shiro off.

“No Shiro, you look.” Lance took one big breath before starting, “I understand that you are the leader and that you were thrown into this by yourself, but you see, you are extremely biased towards Pidge and Keith and honestly, I just can’t let that stand anymore man.”

Lance paused to see Shiro blinking in stunned silence, he took this as his cue to continue.

“Shiro, I understand that you know Keith the best and probably know what he’s capable of. But your making him stressed because your expectations of him are too damn high and you have to accept that there are things that not even Keith can do- nothing wrong with that Keith, it’s ok that you can’t- but instead you just say “I believe in you” and you tell him to basically change everything about himself so he can act like a good-…no I mean, so he can act like you. Shiro, you can’t expect that to magically fix anything!

Lance took a deep breath and gathered his thoughts before proceeding onto his next topic, “Do you even talk to Hunk ever?”

“Well-” Shiro began

“Outside of giving orders? Do you ever ask, ‘Hey Hunk, how was your day? Did you do anything new?’ Because as far as I know, all you can say to him is ‘Hunk, shoulder canon.’, ‘Hunk, you go with whoever on this mission to retrieve whatever.’, sometimes you can’t even address him directly! It’s just ‘Legs, do this!’ You don’t actually talk to him Shiro.”

“I…”

“Also? Isn’t Allura the technical leader of Voltron? She actually knows Zarkon. She actually knows the aliens that we fight and that we talk to. Why are you acting as though you know this stuff? Even if Allura doesn’t know, most of the time Coran knows so he should also be consulted.”

“Yes, well I-”

“Not only that, but you didn’t consult anyone else when deciding Keith would be the Black Paladin. You didn’t check with Keith on how he felt about that, and even then he told you himself and you ignored it. What’s worse is that you didn’t even consult with your lion, the one Keith would be the pilot of. How do you know if she was okay with this? How do you know if this is what she wants?”

Shiro fell silent, it seems that this was the one that made him crack.

He felt a presence next to him and he fixed his stubborn gaze from Shiro to Keith.

Lance was getting ready to argue with Keith when the red paladin turned from Lance to Shiro and said, “Lance is right, Shiro.”

Lance blinked confusedly as Keith continued on, “You don’t listen to him at all. Remember the Blade of Marmora? You didn’t listen to Lance, and I nearly got myself killed. Granted, I wanted to go but… the point still stands.” Keith crossed his arms as he finished his argument.

Lance felt a warm hand on his shoulder as he looked to see Hunk sending him an appreciative look before agreeing with the fire and ice paladins.

One by one, everyone from the Team Voltron stood behind or near Lance and agreed with him.

“Shiro.”

Shiro looked up from the linoleum tiles, seemingly ready to get criticized once more.

“What do you say?”

Shiro closed his eyes as he took in a deep breath before opening them once more and looking around the small group of people. “…and all of you feel this way?”

There was a small murmur of agreement and short little nods.

Shiro sighed, “You’re right Lance. I wasn’t thinking about anyone else but my own beliefs and bias.”

He turned to the two alteans to his left.

“I’m sorry for not consulting you on matters I know you would have more knowledge on. I…I tried to think that just because I lead Voltron I know everything but…not really.”

Shiro continued on down the line of paladins.

“Lastly, Lance…I’m sorry. You were right and….I was ignoring you. Thank you for pointing this out to me and…I know it was probably hard but…I’m proud of you.”


About two weeks later Shiro went to the Black Lion and asked if she would be willing to pick a backup to pilot her in case something happened to Shiro.

She said yes so, all the paladins (+Allura and Coran) would stand in front of her and allow her large, wisdom filled eyes to scrutinize them.

When Lance stepped in front of her he felt as though every crevice in his mind and soul was being checked and scrutinized. Before long, the Black Lion’s eyes started to glow.

She did it. She found her back-up paladin.

Lance.

Hunk’s and Pidge’s cheers could be heard in the background as they whooped and hollered at Lance.

Lance felt waves of pride crash over him, before feelings of anxiety and guilt replace them.

But what about Blue?

Lance looked to the Alteans, knowing that the other paladins wouldn’t be able to fill out his spot without creating a new spot in Voltron needed to be filled. He played with the idea of Blue Paladin Allura, and while she could certainly fill out the spot with ease, he knows that she’s the pilot of the castleship, and if her was honest, that was a lot harder to replace than the pilots of Voltron.

Before announcing his decision he used his connection to the Blue Lion to ask her about if that was okay or not. She said it was fine so long as it wasn’t permanent and she could have Lance back. Lance smiled, Don’t worry my lady, you’re my one and only. He told her before turning to the alteans.

Coran.”

“Yes, Lance?”

Will you be the back up Blue Paladin?

anonymous asked:

Loving the text messages!! Keep up the good work! Also if you don't mind could you describe darks and antis personalities according to you?

Absolutely!!! Beware though, I’m about to wax poetic because I LOVE these two characters. I’m sorry that this post is so long but I’m NOT putting it under a cut because I worked on this for over a fucking hour instead of writing my history paper and I want at least one person to actually read it. :P

I’m gonna go a little in depth with what I believe is their canon personalities according to my interpretation and then how I incorporate those interpretations into Texts From Dark And Anti. Some of you may be surprised to find that I actually heavily take their canonical personalities into account when I make my edits; it’s not all just dick jokes and memes for the sake of notes. Texts From Dark And Anti is my love letter to these two characters, and I’ve gone to great lengths to portray them in the best way possible.

But enough babbling. Let’s start with Dark.

CANON PERSONALITY: Master Manipulator and Sexual Predator

Originally posted by markimemey

Per Mark, Dark is a master manipulator. He’s a snake in the grass, ready to tell you anything and everything you need to hear in order to get what he wants from you.

I’d argue that this often works for him. Obviously he’s a very good actor if he’s able to mimic Mark perfectly in the “Chocolate” ending, so that makes me think that he’s able to assume whatever personality and/or extend whatever favors he needs to to trick his victims into abiding by him.

But it’s also worth mentioning that Dark’s biggest weakness (arguably) is his jealousy. As Mark said, Dark’s extremely jealous of Mark, and he wants everything that Mark has: wealth, fame, success, and devoted fans. I’d be willing to believe that that last thing is what rubs Dark wrong the most.

Evidence? Mark’s fans are exactly what he goes after. Wanna know what’s freakier? IT FUCKING WORKED.

Mark took all of his fans out on a date. All of us adored him for it. Dark got jealous of this, so he infiltrated the date and tried to get us to support him instead. And when Tyler Mark showed up to fight him, Dark didn’t kill him himself. He manipulated us into doing it for him.

And what brings this home is that Dark has had the longest lasting potential out of anything to come out of this video. All of the other memes and references have lost their luster by now, but the resurgence of Dark-related fan art, ask/rp blogs, edits, and memes are still going strong. Dark infiltrated our date and convinced us to love him and worship him the same way that we do Mark, and we fucking fell for it.

So why does he do this? Is it just because he’s a jealous prick? Partially, but I think that, canonically, there’s more to it. I think it’s because he thrives on his ability to hold power over people, which is comparable to–get ready for it–sexual predators.

Dark exhibits a lot of the traits we normally attribute to these criminals. He’s attractive, charismatic, extremely manipulative, and sadistic. He says things like, “I can give you anything,” and, “If it’s dinner you want, I can provide.” Provide is an interesting word choice here, because that’s what society has dictated the man in a relationship should do. He even acts seductive: arching his neck, eye-fucking the camera, and he even blows us a kiss (see below). But the way that he grabs and shakes us periodically throughout his mental breakdown betrays his inner sadism and anger issues, also common among sexual predators. I absolutely think that based on Dark’s behavior and what we know about him, he’s totally down to fuck anyone and everyone in order to get what he wants–consensual or otherwise. And I definitely think he’ll enjoy it.

Originally posted by mirrorthehorse

I wouldn’t necessarily say that Dark is a nymphomaniac. As an otherworldly being, it’s entirely possible he doesn’t even have a sex drive. But sexual predators don’t usually rape their victims just to get their dicks wet. Usually, it’s a power issue; they want to feel like they have mastery over something, and that they are dominant and in control. Given Dark’s obsession with taking all of Mark’s glory away from him, coupled with his violent mood swings and sadism, I would say that sexual assault is probably just one of the many ways he appeases his insatiable appetite for power and manipulation. And I’d even bet that it’s one of his go-to’s.

In Texts From Dark And Anti, I normally portray Dark as a bitter old demon who doesn’t understand memes and doesn’t want to put up with anybody’s shit. But I didn’t just do this for fun; I did it because I could see Dark being jaded in real life. Off-camera, when he’s not trying to seduce us into adoring him over Mark, I could see him being sick of being overlooked. He’s old, even by Mark’s channel’s standards, and up until “A Date With Markiplier”, he wasn’t mainstream in the fandom at all–not fun for someone who craves the adoration of others. So he’d definitely be off-put by Anti’s much younger, more erratic personality, and in a bad mood he’d bitch at him for it. But in a good mood, he’d use it to his advantage to get whatever he wants–sex, souls, and anything else his blackened heart desires, both for the reward and the thrill of not having to do it himself.

Now let’s talk about Anti.

CANON PERSONALITY: Chaotic Psychopath

Originally posted by treblegirl

Jack has been near-silent on his personal interpretation of Anti (although he’s stated that he definitely has a personal canon that he refuses to share, the little fucker), so all of this is going to come from speculation and what we see onscreen.

While Dark chose to make his debut in one long, continuous, elegant appearance, Anti showed up randomly throughout the month of October, with no prelude and no explanation as to why he was there. Also in contrast to Dark’s smooth, charismatic personality, Anti is visibly unstable, jittery, and psychotic. Both he and Dark exhibit bloodlust, but Anti doesn’t hide it. He doesn’t hold back any of his sociopathic tendencies, going so far as to murder his host on camera for the world to see.

We don’t exactly know what Anti’s agenda is, but that’s just it: I don’t think he has one. At least, not one beyond the psychotic urge to kill as much and as many people as he can. Even in “Say Goodbye”, all he does is laugh at/condemn the viewer for not warning Jack and saving him. The other times he was on camera in October, he was glitchy, with several different appearances (fangs, gauges, blood, etc.) and contorted, unsettling body movements, making me think that Anti is a supernatural being that thrives on chaos and bloodshed.

But  Anti doesn’t just want to cause havoc–he wants to cause havoc and get the credit he deserves for it. That’s why he showed up so much on camera without Jack noticing; he was there for us, not him. Then he made a big deal about us not telling Jack what was going on, condemning us for our failure to make his existence well-known. Then he crashed Jack’s panel at PAX, angry at us for “forgetting” him. He’s not trying to garner our support like Dark is; if anything, he wants us to be terrified of him.

Originally posted by redthereaper07

But personally, if I had to choose between being locked in a room with Dark and being locked in a room with Anti, I’d choose Anti in a heartbeat. Because even though Anti is more obviously psychotic, at least I’d know I would be killed quickly–unlike Dark, who would torture and manipulate me verbally, physically, and possibly even sexually for an indeterminate amount of time. This is Anti’s downfall, I think; Dark disguises his true nature with seduction and charisma, but because Anti’s so unpredictable and surface-level, he identifies himself as a very obvious threat, ironically making him a little easier to understand.

Thus, my interpretation of him in Texts From Dark And Anti reflects this (albeit in a more comedic way). Anti loves memes and silly trends because he wants to stick out in a way that’ll gain recognition. He’s more up-to-date with Internet trends and slang because he’s much younger than Dark–but that also means that he’s more gullible, and a lot of simple things go over his head. Basically all of his emotions are double that of Dark’s, and he makes no efforts to disguise them. He’s also much more privvy to senseless murder than Dark. This speaks highly of his psychotic tendencies and general disregard for any order or secrets he could be bothering to keep. What you see of Anti is what you get: an easily-excitable, always-ready-to-fuck-shit-up killing machine.

Originally posted by markired

So…yeah. That’s pretty much my piece. Told you it’d be long. X’D

But tysm for asking!! And if any of you bothered reading this far, PLEASE reblog or leave a reply with your thoughts on my interpretation of these two characters and how you characterize them personally. I’m super crazy interested in the lore around these two (or lack thereof), which is why I created Texts From Dark And Anti in the first place. ^_^

🎶🎶When You Collect Records🎶🎶
  • Hipster: *moves dusty old boxes out of the way* Whoa, an old record player. It looks like it's in working order too! *runs outside*
  • Hipster: Yo, dad!
  • Dad: What?
  • Hipster: We're getting rid of all of poppop's stuff, right?
  • Dad: There's something you want, isn't there?
  • Hipster: There's this old stereo record player in the attic.
  • Dad: What do you need a record player for?
  • Hipster: My record collection.
  • Dad: I didn't even know they still made those things. Can't you just listen to music on your phone?
  • Hipster: Dad, there's a big difference between listening to music digitally and on record.
  • Dad: Fine, I don't wanna get into it with you right now. You can take the record player. You just have to get someone else to take it to your place for you. My truck's full.
  • Hipster: Thanks dad! *smooches dad on the cheek*
  • *later at hipster's apartment*
  • Friend: So, like Patch Adams ends with Patch Adams half-naked in front of a ton of people. I don't know if it was meant to be funny or like a weird sex thing, but like the movie was just a deeply disturbing character study. I can't stop thinking about it.
  • Hipster: That sounds boring. *unlocks door to apartment* Ta-da! Here it is! My new record player!
  • Friend: New? Looks fucking old to me, dude.
  • Hipster: Well, it is old. That's the appeal. And we're going to listen to the new Sufjan record on it.
  • Friend: Is that actually how you say Sufjan? Apparently, I've been pronouncing it wrong this whole time.
  • Hipster: Well, you won't after this record. There's an entire track where he just says his name for four minutes. It's amazing. *plays records*
  • Record Player: *coughs* Hello. Hello! Where am I? Doctor? Hello! Why is it so dark...............................Can I breathe? I can't breath. Oh god, I'm not breathing! Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god! I.....................................
  • Hipster: Uh, that's not Sufjan.
  • Friend: It totally isn't. Is it some guest vocalist? I like the new direction he's going in. No instruments or singing, and long stretches of silence. Very experimental.
  • Hipster: *stops record player* I think maybe we should do something else for now.
  • Friend: Fucking lame! I wanted to listen to more Sufjan.
  • *days later at the record store*
  • Hipster: Yo, I think the Sufjan Stevens record I bought from here might be some kind of mispress.
  • Store Clerk: Really? It's a pretty major album. I doubt there'd just be a mispress like that.
  • Hipster: Yeah, but listen to it. It's not Sufjan at all. It's some girl talking.
  • *hipster and clerk listen to a completely normal Sufjan Stevens album together*
  • Store Clerk: What are you talking about? This is definitely Sufjan Stevens.
  • Hipster: Okay, but it wasn't like that when I listened to it at home! I even listened to it with my friend and he heard the same thing!
  • Store Clerk: Maybe there's something wrong with your record player.
  • Hipster: Hmm, maybe there is.
  • *back at the apartment*
  • Hipster: *turns on record player and just listens*
  • Record Player: ...I'm awake again. Why did I black out? Did I even black out? God, I'm not breathing, but it doesn't matter. Why don't I need to breathe? Am I even alive?
  • Hipster: Can you hear me?
  • Record Player: Doctor. Doctor! DOCTOR! Why can't I move? Why can't I feel anything. Keep yourself together. It'll all make sense soon. Calm down. Just breathe deeply. Fuck, I can't breathe! AIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEE! I CAN'T BREATHE! DOCTOR! DOCTOR! DOCTOR! HELP! HELP ME, PLEASE! I'M STUCK! I CAN'T MOVE! PLEASE HELP ME!
  • Hipster: *turns off record player* It's just a recording, I bet. I can't believe I talked to it like an idiot... *nervously turns record player back on*
  • Record Player: I blacked out again. I blacked out. For how long? Is there even time here? Hell. This is hell, right? Did I go to hell.........................................
  • Hipster: *listens to the record player for hours*
  • Record Player: Negative 6893 bottles of wine on the wall! Negative 6893 bottles of wine! Take one down, pass it around, Negative 6894 bottles of wine on the wall... fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! PLEASE SOMEONE HELP ME! AIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
  • Hipster: *keeps listening*
  • Record Player: Soul of Christ, make me holy, Body of Christ, be my salvation. God, please forgive me. I'm sorry for all of my sins. Please free me. I'm so sorry. Please. Please. Please.
  • Hipster: *still listening*
  • Record Player: FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! SHITTY DOCTOR! FUCK YOU! LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT! *sobs intensely* FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK EVERYTHING! Please just let me go.
  • Hipster: *nervously walks up to record player and lightly taps on it*
  • Record Player: ...A knock. A KNOCK! PLEASE HELP ME! I'M STUCK! PLEASE! *record player begins shake violently*
  • Hipster: *backs away in fear*
  • Record Player: HELP! HELP! HELP ME! PLEASE, IF SOMEONE'S THERE, HELP ME! HELP ME! I'M STUCK! GET ME OUT OF HERE, PLEASE!
  • Hipster: *unplugs record player*
  • Hipster: *gets hammer from the closet and begins to break apart record player*
  • Record Player: *drips red*
  • Hipster: W-What? *cracks front of record player open*
  • *rotting viscera falls from the record player*
  • Hipster: O-Oh... *stuffs viscera back into the record player and duct tapes over it*
  • Hipster: *turns record player back on*
  • Record Player: ...I can feel. It hurts. Why does it hurt now? Why does it hurt? Why? Why? Why? WHY!? WHY!? WHY!? *spurts blood through it speakers and begins to gurgle*
  • Record Player: *hops forward* Please just let me go. Please... please. I'll do anything. I just want to see you again. I'm so sorry. This isn't what I asked for. I'm so sorry. *hops forward again and comes unplugged*
  • Record Player: *tips over, bleeding heavily onto the carpet*
  • Hipster: *silently cleans up the mess*
  • *some time later*
  • Hipster: *calls dad* Hey, dad. Oh, nothing. Uh, I just need to borrow your truck, If not tonight sometime this week. I just need to get rid of something. No, no, that's fine, I can do it myself. Yeah, tomorrow morning is perfect. Thanks Love you too. Bye.
  • *the next afternoon*
  • Dad: So, what did you need to get rid of this morning?
  • Hipster: Nothing important. Just some old junk... Dad, what kind of person was poppop?
  • Dad: Well, he was only the greatest man I've known in my life. Really caring, dedicated to his family. When you were born he loved you so much. He was a bit of a loner, though. It took a lot to get him to open up. Even around me and your grandmother. He was a bit like you. Always a huge music lover.
  • Hipster: I see. Was he ever a doctor?
  • Dad: That's a weird thing to ask. Nope. He hated doctors. Didn't trust modern medicine one bit. It's ironic. His cancer probably wouldn't have gotten to him if he did. But, your poppop was always so stubborn.
  • Hipster: Oh, okay then.
  • *some days later*
  • Friend: New carpet?
  • Hipster: Yup, old one was ugly wasn't it. It was time for a change.
  • Friend: That's what I've been telling you! I'm glad you finally came to your senses. What happened to your record player, though?
  • Hipster: That thing? I threw it away. It was busted.
  • Friend: That sucks. Are you gonna buy a new one?
  • Hipster: No.
  • Friend: But you won't have anything to play your records on.
  • Hipster: Yeah, but I buy records because I want to support the artists. They're not really for listening. Besides, lossless is better. FLAC is the future.

anonymous asked:

I've seen you say a couple times that you don't see or that you're disabled. Do you mind talking about it? I ask because I am an aspiring writer and it is really hard for me. I wanted to know how you managed or what it was like?

I don’t mind talking about it. It’s something that made me who I am.

When I was about 12, my health sort of started to eat itself. I suddenly had a ton of allergies, and there were days I couldn’t get out of bed. I got sick all the time. In freshman year of high school, I suddenly couldn’t see. For a long time a thing had been going on in my eyes, but I guess I didn’t think it was abnormal until it made it impossible for me to see. Basically this hole was kind of growing in my eyes, but it was more like a rainbow.

When I started having trouble with colors and detail vision, my mom freaked out a bit, because at the time, I was an award winning artist who had ideas of going to college for art. Then I started tripping over things, hitting my head, having trouble with depth perception. Then I got sick, and I mean sick.

I spent about 23 hours a day in bed. I had almost constant migraines. I had pain in my entire body. My skin turned yellow. I went to every kind of doctor you can think of and was tested for everything there is. One day, I had about 12 vials of blood drawn. No one knew what was wrong. The eyes weren’t that big a deal at first, because it seemed like I might have something really serious. The first couple of eye doctors I went to kind of looked at me and said “Oh it’s nothing big.” I actually had one guy tell me that my brain was just shutting off my eyes because I wasn’t using them properly. Yeah.

Then finally, my mom took me to a friend of our family who happened to be an eye surgeon. She did a free exam. I’ll never forget it because it was the first time anyone believed me. I’d been told by doctor after doctor that there was nothing wrong with me. I’d been referred to therapists, told I needed depression meds, told I was just going through a phase or needed attention. Then this doctor put on her head gear, looked into my eyes…took off the head gear…got new head gear…looked into my eyes…took off the headgear…got hand held tools…looked into my eyes…and then stared at me with her mouth hanging open.

“I can’t see the back of your eye,” she said. And suddenly the world simultaneously healed itself and flipped upside-fucking-down for me.

Then it was all about my eyes, the one symptom we could see happening. The one that was the most dangerous. But by then it was too late.

What happened is pretty simple: I apparently have some weird recessive DNA. It triggers certain bizarre immune issues at puberty. My immune system decided to attack my body. The eyes are a delicately balanced system. They show symptoms first. My immune system attacked them with a vengeance. They swelled up like balloons. Normal eye pressure is about 14-17. Mine was at a 22 at its best. It put a tremendous amount of pressure on my Retina, specifically my macula, cutting off blood flow like when you sit on your foot. You know those little shadowy things that float across your eyes? They’re called protein floaters. My eyes had produced so many of those that the doctor could not see through them. It was a fog.

They had to find a way to map my eye, to track the damage. Cue the eye exam from hell. I have always been, even before my autoimmune disorder, deathly allergic to melon. Any kind of melon. But now I was allergic to all sorts of shit, fruits vegetables, all kinds of crap. My dad is allergic to contrast dyes. So when the retinologist suggested this dye-based eye exam that is kind of like a CAT scan, my mom said “no”. See, they inject you with this dye and then they flash this weird light in your eyes. It causes the dye to glow, and then they can see the things through the fog. My mom told them I was too sensitive to stuff for that to be safe. The doc assured her they’d put a butterfly in my arm, meaning the vein would be kept open, and a syringe of benedryl was set on the counter. They’d never had anyone react, and they needed the pictures or there was nowhere to go from there.

So they put this dye into me, and it was like I’d been injected with fire, but there was no way around it, and to me, I knew they only had about 90 seconds to get the images they needed. So I sucked it up. finally the burning began to spread. Suddenly my back felt like I was being stabbed, and I suddenly couldn’t speak. I tapped my hands on my mom, then began sneezing spontaneously. My mom lifted my shirt, and I had quarter-sized hives. The nurse said “Stop sneezing on the camera”. Yeah.

My mom went ballistic. The doctor flew up the stairs and gave me the emergency meds. I slid into a dissociation state and nearly out of my chair. They had to prop me against the camera for the next couple minutes and reinject the dye. No other way, you see.

They did this test every few months for a few years.

But then there was treatment. Not much they could do, except try to get the swelling under control. Only way to do that was corticosteroid injections in the eye. Yup. A needle in the eye. No, they don’t knock you out. They numb the surface of the eye with the same numbing drops they give you for the exams and then they come at you with a needle, tell you to look down and to hold still. And you fucking do.

I was 15 when that started.

I went to experimental clinics, labs, and joined studies. I dropped out of those. Why? It’s pretty simple. The first day I came to the exams, I was kept waiting for over two hours. I was taken into a room. I was left there. No information, no talking. Suddenly a man came in followed by a group of people, all in lab coats. He started moving me around like I was a doll and talking like, “The patient presents with…the patient this, the patient that…”

I shoved him back and said, “The patient’s name is Kristina, and she is 16.”

He finished his exam, and when he left, after the students had gone, he took two Q-tips, dipped them in that pink shit your dentist uses to swab your gums before an injection, and SHOVED them under my eyelids with a cocky smirk.

The patient will never be an snotty little bitch again, I guess.

So yeah. Fuck those guys. They gave me two injections in one day, which no one had ever done before, because it was almost impossible to function with two pimple-like bubbles on your eyeballs.

Still my health was bad. Then all of a sudden, when my mom had given up, It just wasn’t anymore. Suddenly, I was fine, and all that was left were the eyes. I went back to school, except now I was blind.

In a few months, I’d lost about 80% of my perfect vision. I was photophobic. I got horrible and constant headaches. I walked with a cane. And not a single fucking teacher believed me, except my civics teacher, who had gone blind at a young age due to some other weird eye disorder, and my physics teacher who was deaf. I had teachers send me to the office for wearing my sunglasses (with a note on file). I had teachers get on my case about having an audio recorder and CD player for my books. I had teachers call me names, make fun of me, make me leave class to photocopy their notes larger, so that I missed the lecture the notes were on. I had teachers take my medications which had to be in my possession because of their time-sensitive nature and constant administration and hide them in their desks as punishment for asking questions or demanding help. I had classmates pick on me, but luckily, I was well-liked, and I was an officer in the ROTC. I even excelled there in spite of my vision, because my Captain believed in my leadership skills.

I always tell this story because I think it is funny. We had this special boot camp we got to go to if we were in the upper ranks of the ROTC. If you joined the military after high school (which I could never do) you got a higher paygrade for having gone through it. Almost like taking a couple JC classes in the military. It was grueling and all physical fitness, obstacle courses, PT, classes, guard duty…fucking blah. Our unit was allowed six participants. I sort of figured that it wasn’t really fair for me to go, even with my high rank (a company XO). To my complete fucking shock, my Captain recommended me to go, cutting out a classmate (and ex) of mine who was higher in rank. The boy went ape-shit. He went on and on about how unfair it was. He even went to the school board. My Captain made his reasons clear; he told them that the academy isn’t about military sponsorship. It’s about skills and quality. He didn’t care if I had a disability. In his eyes I had more innate ability than anyone there because I had worked so hard just to be where I was. The boy was angry. I told my Captain I appreciated the gesture, but honestly, we ought to make it fair. I told him that we should train to meet the PT standards, and that if this kid could make his, but i couldn’t make mine, he should go. I made mine. He didn’t. He complained about that too. At the last minute, we were told one extra person could come because another school had lost one. So he came anyway. The whole time he bitched about me being there. When I got there, the real military officers gave me shit like you wouldn’t believe, because they weren’t used to dealing with disabilities or recognizing that they can’t discriminate against high schoolers by law. The commander of the unit tried to dress me down in front of everybody for wearing sunglasses. I was pretty pleased with myself for telling him off but still sounding respectful. He kept saying “Take off my glasses”. I told him they weren’t his. They were mine, by law, and that if he had a problem with that, he could consult my attorney, the DOJ, and the doctor who prescribed them. He tried to fuck with me. I didn’t say anything except to ask him if he wanted me to have a migraine, because that’s what taking the glasses off means. He was so confused by me he walked away and called my Captain over. There were words. After that, he came up to me once or twice, almost like a test, to ask me if I needed him to slow down or if I was getting around alright. He wasn’t being nice. He was egging me in a condescending tone and with very bullying language. He’s a drill instructor, and you know what, that’s his job. I told him I was fine. But I made a decision: I wasn’t just going to make the female PT marks. I was going to test out of this fucking place at the male PT marks. And I fucking did. That boy…had an asthma attack on the track (I had asthma too, but I worked my ass off while he coasted on his “boyness”) and failed. At the certificate ceremony, the commander came up to me and said I had really impressed him, and that it was a shame I couldn’t enter the Navy. I thanked him, but what I wanted to say was, “Go fuck yourself and take the NAVY with you”. I ended up the Battalion XO Senior year. This would have given me a guaranteed spot in Westpoint if I could have taken it. My Captain cried when he told me he was sorry he had to give it to one of our Company XO’s. I told him that it was best for everyone, because I am not the type of person to enjoy taking orders. I had learned that about myself.

He laughed.

Around Junior year I got people to pay attention. My doctors got the DOJ and the Social Security people involved. A woman came to my school and enforced compliance in a tone of voice I’d never heard anyone but my mother use. She threatened to rain brimstone down on them if they didn’t give me what I needed, and things changed.

My parents wanted me to take a full scholarship to a local school, but I wanted to get away. So I did. I wanted to travel abroad, so i did. And when I was 19, they perfected one of the surgeries they had been working on the entire time I’d been struggling with this.

See, the injections had brought and kept the swelling down, but that meant that the fog was still there (since ocular fluid doesn’t replace), and the structures in the eye had been stretched all to shit, and were laying in my eye like melted plastic wrap. The old surgery was like a blind man hacking with a machete, but the new surgery used fluorescent dyes to track movement. Dyes that wouldn’t kill me. The old surgery had a 50-50 shot at complete loss of vision and made you lay on your face for three weeks. The new was fool proof and took 45 minutes. So, I got one eye done. They swapped out all the fluid and replaced it with saline. They peeled the distorted membrane off the macula. They stitched up my eyeball and gave me a sick metal eye patch. Looked like a fucking space pirate. It was rad.

But the blind spot is still there. The cataracts caused by the steroids are still there. The scars are there.

A few years later I had the other one done too.

My college was great. It took a lot of work getting all my reading done, about 500 pages minimum, per week, done via audio. I used to spend hours at the pool table in our residence hall, listening to my books and practicing. I got pret damn good too, at pool. It was difficult taking notes or working with a note taker. It was scary traveling by myself. It was hard to get people to understand there wasn’t anything WRONG with me. Just that my eyes don’t work even though it seems like I’m normal and fine, and like they should. People always think to be legally blind you have to be completely blind, and they think you’re not going to be able to defend yourself. I’ve been targeted by pickpockets. I’ve been followed by scary dudes. I’ve been treated like shit, laughed at, and accused by full grown adults of faking to get privileges, all because I can look at the place where their head should be and smile at the blank spot there. All because I can walk down a flight of stairs with a few neat tricks I know that have nothing to do with a cane.

But shit…you probably didn’t mean to ask for my life story. I’m going to get back to the point. My writing. What has it done for that? Like how can you be a writer if you can’t fucking see? Technology. It’s been amazing. I can use a computer same as anyone. The Kindle has been a fucking revolution for me because for the first time in a decade and a half I could read without pain and suffering. Just…all the things it does have made life so much easier than it used to be. It got me out of bad relationships with people who used my disability as a control. It gave me a little bit of confidence back. It helped me know I could handle myself.

And really, I think my vision loss had a lot to do with my writing. In some ways it gives me different perspective, sure, but it’s more than that. I was undeclared when I entered college. I didn’t know what I wanted to do. I thought about history or sociology. My mom had a degree in that and she was an English teacher. I wanted art history, but what the fuck was the point in that? Couldn’t see a damn thing. And then I had a class in poetry, and shit…That made sense. I’d always loved language and writing. Always been okay at it. Dorte stuff but never thought about doing it for a living. But then it was like yeah…yeah I’m gonna fucking do that. Just like when I decided to meet the male PT standards.

If it is in you. If you love it. If it defines you and possesses you, it does not matter how fucked up you are. You will find a way. You don’t have a choice. You are that thing. And you’ll adapt. You just have to let yourself. You have to keep pushing. You have to learn how to handle frustration. you have to train yourself into stamina. You just keep going. I’m nowhere near as successful as I want to be. I’m still going. I hope I get even better. I hope I can say things that make truth more obvious, or that help people put words to things they have always wanted to say.

I don’t need my eyes to be a fucking firestorm. That’s just me. Eyes don’t mean shit.

So keep going. Keep doing whatever you need to. Do it better and better. Bend yourself around it. People who see you struggle will think they’re lucky, but you and I know the truth: they’re not even close to the kind of strong you are. Not even a little bit.

Cookie Day (WinterIron Quick Fic)

This is just fluffy WinterIron. Just fluff. To make up for the tear fest that was “Moments” lol

Enjoy :)
***************

Bucky made….cookies.

Like really, really insanely good cookies. While humming, and listening to slow music as he took over the kitchen in the Tower. He even wore an apron most times.

And really, the team didn’t know what to do about it.

Mostly because even a year and a half after Steve brought him home, Bucky was still quiet more days than not. He still wore his hair long, his chin scruffy. He hardly ever smiled, hardly ever engaged with anyone. He was never in anything other than a long sleeve because he didn’t like the attention his arm inevitably drew, even though Steve had told him at least a hundred times that no one here ever noticed. He didn’t wake up screaming with nightmares anymore, but no one ever actually saw him sleep either so…

Anyway. Cookies.

Like, the best cookies in the world. Like thick and fluffy and packed with butter and chocolate and enough sugar to put an elephant down. And he absolutely refused to share.

In fact, no one was even allowed in the kitchen while he was baking. Clint had tried one time to scoop some cookie dough and Bucky had (accidentally) almost broken his hand.

So the team retreated, hovered outside the kitchen door and plotted ways to get to the cookies.

Steve had assured them that back in the day, Bucky had in fact been the best cook he had known, always making something in his mamas kitchen, and then cooking for Steve after his parents passed.

It didn’t matter what it was- thick, crusty bread, impossibly light pastries, and of course these amazing cookies— Bucky could make them no problem, and was happy to do every time Steve looked just the littlest bit hungry.

Of course Steve had been allergic to or at least sensitive to nearly everything back then, so little bites and nibbles was the best he could do. And now that he was a 100% healthy, super serum powered soldier who needed upwards of 4000 calories a day to keep his body running… well Steve was just as desperate as the rest of them to get his hands on some of Bucky’s cookies.

But alas, it wasn’t going to happen. Because Bucky only ever baked enough for himself, just enough to pile on a plate that he then hoarded on his lap during team movie nights, an entire gallon of milk sitting next to him because that’s how much milk it took to wash the cookies down.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I kno everyone speaks Japanese in the show bc it's a Japanese show, but I've looked through the wiki and I don't think Viktor actually knows Japanese??? It's not listed among his known languages in the trivia section (Russian, English, and French). I couldn't find what languages Yuuri speaks but it's likely he knows English from living in the states, so maybe they communicate through English??? I bet Viktor learns Japanese over time, but I don't think he already knows it at the beginning.

Hey there!!! So, I scoured the net to find both canon and fanon sources. In this interview it’s confirmed that Yuuri and Viktor use English as base language of communication, and they’re both fluent. As you said, though, it’s also confirmed that Viktor’s fluent in Russian, English and French. Nothing is said about Japanese. In that regard, this post is super interesting. I’ll quote some of the tl;dr points here for practical reasons:

  • When Victor speaks Japanese he sounds like a foreigner
  • Victor maybe has rudimentary Japanese skills, but not enough for him to understand or participate in complex discussions. (Example: ep 4, when he has to ask Yuri what everyone is talking about.)
  • Every person Victor has had an in-depth conversation with so far has good English skills.

So, from auditory cues we can tell that Viktor does actually know a little bit of  Japanese, but his conversational skills are stilted at best. He uses English to communicate with Yuuri, Minako, the Nishigoris and other international skaters. I guess he does too with Mari? The funny thing about this is that, while in Hasetsu, people like Yuuri’s parents will most likely speak dialectal Japanese, which is harder to grasp and understand than regular Japanese, much less to learn.

Let’s keep in mind that Viktor already knows cyrillic and the roman alphabet, and has probably been studying English and French since he was 8/9 years old (even younger, if he was home schooled). Nonetheless, the fact that he’s fluent in both is still no small feat. If anything, I’d say he has a knack, or we can call it a talent, at grasping the basics and going with it. So a wild guess, before going to Japan he took like some online courses real quick to learn a general knowledge of it, for example how to ask for the bathroom and directions and food, drilled some useful vocabulary into his head and flew out because he just couldn’t make Katsuki Yuuri wait, now, could he? Once he got there, his skills gradually improved with time and practice. Actually, I really like thinking that he started learning Japanese directly after the banquet because he fell so hard he wanted to shorten the cultural distance between them immediately. (I read a marvelous fic about the whole language topic, I absolutely recommend it, it’s Repeat After Me by queenieofaces)

And now, my hcs on the thing because of course.

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griffiee  asked:

So I absolutely love Bughead (who doesn't?) and I need more fanfics. Could you possibly write something where all of their friends don't approve of their relationship because Jughead doesn't seem to care but it slowly grows on them as the relationship goes on?

Thanks so much! I Got you!
***

Betty and jughead, the oddest pair to walk Riverdale halls since Dilton Doiley had landed that model from Sweden.

Jughead Jones was all types of dark and moody, keeping his head down and a permanent grimace on his usually grumpy face, Betty Cooper on the other hand, was sunshine wrapped up in a pretty blonde bottle, always willing to lend a hand or a smile to absolutely anyone.

So when the pair came out to the school as a couple, the response was not positive. Almost everyone would awkwardly stare at Betty when she clung to jugheads arm chatting his ear off as he nodded absently. and when he showed up at football games, lurking in the corners to watch her cheer they were both on the receiving end of some disapproving stares. The support their relationship received left nothing to be desired.

Veronica lodge was no exception, she had pulled Betty out of her booth at pops shooting Jughead a challenging look, as archie slid in across from him. Dragging Betty to the counter, she placed a comforting hand on her best friends shoulder.

“Betty, we have to talk.”

Raising a brow, Betty quirked an unamused smile

“I kinda caught that when you dragged me away from my boyfriend. What’s up?”

“It’s about Jughead..”

“No.” Betty cut her off

Pleading eyes caught Betty’s

“Betty just listen.”

“No. I’m not doing this with you, you’re my best friend v and I love you, but we are not discussing my relationship, we’ve already done this countless times.” Betty turned to leave by Ronnie grabbed her wrist.

“You deserve someone who cares about you, someone who actually wants to be with you, I love Jughead too Betty, but he isn’t made for relationships. You know that.” Shaking her head, Betty leaned against the counter. While Veronica was grilling the blonde, archie had taken it upon himself to share his opinions with jughead.

“She’s a great girl, betty I mean.” Archie said anxiously

Jugheads face turned to stone

“Yeah, I know. That’s why I’m dating her.” His tone was even and calculated as he stared the red head in the eyes.

“Is that why?” Archie challenged.

Placing his burger on his plate Jughead leveled Archie

“What’s that supposed to mean ..pal?”

Archie looked serious now, no longer nervous just concerned.

“Look jug, you’re my best friend but so is Betty and people… well people are talking. They’re saying you’re only dating Betty because you feel bad, you don’t really care about her, you just owe her for getting your dad a job.”

Jugheads knuckles turned white as he clutched the table so tight he thought he might splinter the wood.

“Me and Betty don’t pay attention to gossip, we know how we feel and that’s what matters.”

Archie shook his head , unconvinced

“does she?” his eyes moved to the blonde walking over to the table the raven haired girl shaking her head as they reached the two boys.

“Juggie, can you walk me home, I’m not feeling too well.” Betty said quietly. He just nodded, stuffing his text book in his bag and grabbing her water bottle. He placed his hand on the small of her back, gently shoving her to the door.

“I’ll see you guys at school.” She threw over her shoulder.

As soon as they hit the street, Jughead grabbed her backpack out of her hands and thread his fingers through hers. She smiled at him weakly and he returned it giving her fingers a squeeze.

“Are you really feeling sick or just sick of our annoying friends?”

She giggled “a little bit of both, I think I’m just tired is all, Alice cooper has decided her youngest daughter can not get Bs so the studying has been upped quite a bit.” She leaned into his shoulder as they walked.

“Well Jughead jones has decided his girlfriend can get whatever grades she wants as long as she gets the appropriate amount of sleep.” He said raising a brow at her as she twisted to see his face.

Reaching up she pressed her lips to his and they fell into familiar conversation about their plans for this weekend, too soon they arrived at her door and his hands went to her waist, he took a deep breathe ducking his eyes to meet hers

“I love you, you know that right?“he asked seriously

She smiled her heartbreakingly gorgeous smile, eyes lighting up as she placed her hands on his cheeks

"I know. I love you too, so much.”

When they kissed, he felt the same warm, safe essence of home that was purely Betty. He felt her getting more and more passionate and he could the moan that escaped his lips. Sliding his hands lower in her hips he tugged her center to his. Gasping into his mouth as his lips moved to her neck, nipping lightly

“Juggie” she whispered

“Betty.” He returned, panting slightly in her ear

All too soon the familiar porch light turned on and he knew Hal had heard the pair.

“Okay Juliet, time to return to your tower.” He said pecking her lips one more time.

She giggled moving to the door, “I’ll see you tommorow Romeo.” He turned throwing her a wink and a lazy wave. Before she called his name causing him to turn back.

“We’re okay. We always are.” She smiled showing off her pearly whites.

He laughed and returned her smile

“We’re okay. We always are.”

***

The next day at school, the pair was greeted by the familiar, questioning stares and the faces of their friends.

Cheryl was ranting about the fact that one of the vixens had dyed their hair pink.

“Our uniforms are blue! Blue! No one can pull off pink hair, literally no one.”

“I bet Betty could.” Everyone’s eyes snapped to Jughead who was smiling down at the blushing blonde connected to his arm. Looking up he noticed everyone’s eyes on his and shrugged “s'true”

Who knew Jughead could be cute? Veronica sure didn’t, And by the looks on everyone else’s face they didn’t either.

The cute just kept happening and Veronica and Archie were certainly confused.

At lunch Betty had started coughing, choking on the apple she was eating. Jughead had nearly broken an ankle reaching for the water in his bag, after she had calmed down he was rubbing her back soothingly “no more apples for you” he had said dropping a quick kiss to her lips.

During free period, they had all decided to hang out in the blue and gold office. Leaning back on the couch Veronica close to Archie, Kevin had started laughing.

“I’m guessing this is jugheads station.” The desk was covered in a mess of paperwork and food wrappers but what caught the most attention was the framed picture of Betty and jughead as kids, sitting in a tree house holding hands displayed proudly amongst the mess.
Archie chuckled “is this Betty’s doing?” He gestured towards the photo.

Jughead shook his head

“No I put that there. It’s my desk.”

It went quiet in the tiny office, minus Cheryl’s declaration of

“That’s hashtag cute.”

Archie and Veronica shared a glance.

The final straw was when, the group was walking home. Archie had asked Jughead to come over and play video games with him. Betty was wrapped up in his jacket and she went to take it off, She lived next door so it wasn’t that far a walk to brave the cold. Jughead immediately placed his hands on her shoulders keeping the jacket firmly in place.
“I don’t think so. Keep it on, it’s cold out. Don’t need you getting sick, I’ll pick it up tonight.” Then with a smile he was walking into the Andrews house.

An hour later Veronica was laying in Betty’s bed reading the newest glamour magazine, her brain on something entirely different

“What was with jughead today?” She blurted out

Betty looked up from painting her toes, a confused expression on her face.

“What do you mean? He seemed fine to me.”

Veronica shook her head

“No I mean he’s fine, it’s just he was extra… lovey today.”

Smiling gently at her friend Betty turned back to her toes.

“He’s always like that, you just never payed attention before.”

Staring at the beautiful blonde girl next door in front of her, she couldn’t help but think

Maybe Betty was right, maybe she just wasn’t looking hard enough.

Love hides in mysterious places.