The rules are simple: Just send me one of these DBZA quotes to get my muse’s response!
I swear, I don’t even know what’s going on anymore.
I’m Vic Mignogna! Ahh my poor vocal cords!
OH, GO FUCK YOURSELF!
Now they’ll just waste their lives in a futile struggle to measure up to their peers until they’re nothing more than a crumpled heap of countless failures of broken dreams.
It’s edited by the Tiger Kitty!
If he could be any more of a whore for Adobe, they would’ve branded their logo on his ass.
I am hilarious and you will quote everything I say.
Oh no, I’m not a monkey! Oh no, the kid’s a monkey!
Hey, let that (name) alone!
Maybe I’m gay. Or maybe stereotypes are bullshit.
Guess I’ll do what any sensible Middle American would do in this situation: GIT MAH GUN!
BOOBS! I mean, (name)… Hi!
Yes, (name), I’m a green freakin’ dinosaur.
Take that, moon. Perfect orbit, my ass.
Hi, I’m (name)! And this is (name). He/she was a prison bitch!
I’m gonna eviscerate you and use your gastrointestinal tract as a condom while I fornicate with your skull!
Okay, consider yourself beef jerky while I’m Filet Mignon.
The eye! The eye! Why is always that goddamned eye!!??
We’ve been flying for two weeks now, and I’m starting to feel very tensed up. Not just for being trapped on the ship of course, but from (name) walking around in nothing but his/her underwear! I would relieve this tension, but I’ve had no alone time as the toilet KEEPS SCREAMING AT ME!!
So in short, shit be whack, yo!
Dammit, there is no muffin button!
I’m sorry, but if this shit goes any further south, we’re going to hit Space Mexico.
I’m coming, (name)! Quick, grab my balls!
Oh no, that minion died. Could you go fix that? We’ll continue this conversation never.
Freaky Alien Genotype.
Now let me put this in a way you’ll understand; I’m about to blow my load all over your insides.
I need an adult…
I am an adult!
Big talk coming from a bipedal bitch.
ALL OF MY HATE!
Son of a gum-chewing funk monster! Why the fruit does all this funny stuff happen to me? Forget my life! Always surrounded by miserable failing clods! It’s like this whole world just likes to bend me over and find me in the Alps! Like I’m some sort of shlock receptacle! Well as far as I care, these miserable cows can have a fancy barbecue, WITH A GODDAMN PIG!
Why can’t I feel my everything?
Every party needs a pooper, that’s why they invited you. Party pooper. Party pooper.
Renegade for life.
I never left, sir. I was outside, hitting my head against the wall for 20 minutes.
And so I tell him, ‘I don’t care who you are, now clean my jowls!’
Well Sir, if you’re having a problem with our Customer Support you can call 1-800-eat-a-dick!
Oh god. NATURAL LIGHT!
Did you try working the shaft?
Somehow we made this into a three-way.
I feel that they have finally summoned the dragon. Would be a reeeal dick move to die right now…
Ahh, if we had junk you’d be gay right now!
YOU CAN WIN! YOU FEEL GREAT! YOU! CAN! DO! THIS!
I’m beginning to think I have issues.
Hax! I call hax!
See, it’s like I told you, (name). “Like a bitch.”
You know what? All of you better duck, because I’m about to turn left and I don’t want to SMACK YOU WITH MY DICK.
Hey, I’m just like any other guy. I pay my taxes one leg at a time!
There you go again, throwing your hands up in the air like you just don’t care. CARE, DAMN IT!
I’M SO FUCKING HIGH RIGHT NOW.
Why aren’t you upstairs sleeping with your girlfriend like everyone else?
Y'all are bitches.
Oh a momma’s boy huh? I’ll be your mommy.
It’s called man-scaping.
…the fuck’s a condom?
Sooooo… Wanna go drive cars?
Look at my nipples, LOOK AT THEM!!
(name) JUST DONE STOLE MY GLASSES!
I was desperate and needed the money. And no, it wasn’t worth it.
Oh come on man! You couldn’t last, like, 30 seconds!?
And the prodigal asshole returns!
My heart is pure. Pure, unadulterated badass.
OK, first: What?! Second: The fuck?!
Oh my God, I solicited my son for sex.
Wow, you are just the Grand Central Station of disappointment, aren’t you.
Societal definitions of beauty are BS anyway.
All these squares make a circle, all these squares make a circle, all these squares make a circle…
Ohhh no. Oh, really wish I hadn’t! It’s all over my hand! Oh god, it’s sticky! And now it’s starting to harden! Oh no!
Could you speak up? I’m not wearing pants.
IS THAT ME STRONGER THAN ME?! I’LL FUCKING KILL ME!!
I’m coming, I’m coming… I came. Heh.
I AM THE HYPE!
At this point, it’s a game. If he gives in, I win. And he knows that.
When mine left, she took all my money. When yours left, she took all her money.
Sometimes you’ve got to know when to hold 'em, and know when to fold 'em. And right now, it’s foldin’ time. (name)! Grab M'Dick!
STOP FISTING ME!
Bitch, I’m adorable.
You’re either perfect or you’re not me.
You know! If I had a watch, I’d be looking at my wrist really condescendingly right now…
Well, I’d say I should’ve seen this coming, but that would be ironic.
I CAN SEE THE FUTURE!
My nipples are rigid right now!
Well, I sure hope someone picks up that phone…because I fucking called it!
I'MMA PLANT ME A DUMBASS TREE!
Seriously kid, if you don’t start bringing me meat I am literally gonna shit bricks.
Wow, I can’t remember the last time someone actually nutted up and asked for that. Congrats! Can’t wait to hear how you fuck this up.
Everyone’s getting sucked today!
Friggin’ hell. Last time I take on a guy with a pole that big.
He keeps kicking me in the dick…Why? Why does he keep kicking me in the dick?!
I have many things…a best friend that’s a turtle, an island, chlamydia… This…is not one of them.
No, you said “Hey, check this shit out!”, then jumped in a car!
timeskip clubbing! finally, Neptune gives the princesses the martini glasses and umbrellas they desperately needed. I gave Venus a cocktail dress per Alice’s request, and of course Neptune needed something glamorous, but somehow Jupiter ended up in frat boy clothes…
Series: Who Will Save You Now? Fandom: Peaky Blinders Pairing: Reader x Michael Gray / Reader x Peaky Blinders Word Count: 1608 Dedicated to: @peakyblinders1919. This author with their imagines and oneshots has inspired me to write my own story featuring Peaky Blinders. Also dedicated to the people who adore this show as much as I do.
Everything around you had stopped. You couldn’t force yourself to get out of bed. Your friend Paula had visited you, but since you didn’t reply to her there wasn’t much she could say or do to ease your situation. Your father hadn’t come into your room not once. Instead, if he had something to say to you he sent the message through Lucas who was the only one you saw past these two days. He didn’t say much, only passing on what your father wanted for you to know. He tried to reassure you that everything was going to be fine, but you couldn’t force yourself to believe that. You couldn’t believe that your father was selling you to the Shelby’s.
“Tell me he’s lying. Please.” You pleaded as you looked at your father who couldn’t dare to look into your eyes. When he did the expression on his face said everything - Thomas wasn’t lying. You felt your eyes tearing up, but you forced yourself to hold them back. You weren’t going to start crying in front of the Shelby’s, not now or ever.
“Welcome to the family, Y/N.” Thomas said before standing up from his seat as he grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the table and leaving the room. John, Arthur and Michael sat still for a second before they too stood up, Arthur sending you an apologetic look before they all left the room, leaving you and your father alone.
“I can’t believe you would do this to me.” You spoke up after a while, a tear rolling down your cheek. You directed your look at him as you tried to read his expression. He looked cold as ice, just like he wouldn’t even care what happened to you.
“I knew you hated me, but I wouldn’t believe you would sell me like a horse to the highest bidder.” You said angrily before storming out of the room, tears dropping down onto your cheeks.
You had heard Thomas Shelby visit your father the day before. You wouldn’t even bother to ask Lucas what he wanted, because you simply knew - he was there to discuss the matters of you marrying someone from his family. You would become your father’s spy all along, just like he wanted you to before you refused.
You were more than sure that your uncle was more than happy. He had visited you in the morning, telling you that whatever happened you would still be part of the family. But he couldn’t hide the smirk on his face which he thought you wouldn’t notice. You out of the picture made him think that he would gain the power all to himself.
The more you started thinking about it the more you realized you couldn’t let this happen. You were still a Pierce, daughter of Raimond Pierce and if there was one person who would lead the Pierce gang it was you, not Andre Pierce. That was the thing that made you realize that moping in your room would not help ease the pain you felt due to your father’s pain. You would show him that you were his daughter, just as tough and capable as he.
“She still hasn’t come out of her room?” You heard your father ask Lucas as the two of them walked into Raimond’s cabinet. As you exited your room you pulled your coat onto your dress as you tried as quickly as possible to sneak past the cabinet door. You hoped that they would stay in it as long as you walked out of the house. Talking with your father was the last thing you wanted to do.
As soon as you exited the main door of your house you bumped into your uncle, making you drop your purse. You quickly tried to grab it, but Andre had managed to beat you to it as he grabbed it instead, handing it back to you.
“Where are you going?” He questioned, standing in front of you so that you couldn’t move. You stared at him, seeing him smile. You knew he was power hungry, you just hadn’t realized before how hungry for power he really was.
“None of your concern. Now move.”You replied, a little too harshly than you intended. He raised his hands before moving to the side so that you could move past him. When you did he suddenly grabbed your arm, making you turn back at him.
“Don’t you ever talk to me like that. Ever.” He simply said before you pulled your arm from his grip, sending him a glare before walking away from the house.
At first you didn’t have a destination. Then you decided to visit Paula. Realizing that it was not a good idea you found yourself walking towards the Garrison, the one place you actually wanted to stay away from. Due to your desperate need of a drink you decided to hit a pub, choosing The Garrison out of all of the pubs in Birmingham. You remembered Arthur’s invitation, and today seemed to be like an excellent day to take up his offer. You just hoped that he would be there without any of his family members, even though deep down you knew that the chance was slim to none.
When you walked into the pub you were greeted by drunken men along with drunken women, some of them singing, some of the kissing. At one corner of the pub a couple of men were arguing with each other, looking like they were about to start fighting at any second. You stopped in your tracks, your eyes wandering around the place. As soon as you spotted the bar you decided to go there and ask the barmen whether he knew anything about the Shelby’s.
As you started walking you heard a group of people whisper your name, pointing at you before continuing drinking. Your guess was that they knew who you were and perhaps were surprised to see you there. Or they knew that you were going to marry one of the Shelby’s and were discussing your unfortunate destiny.
When you reached the bar you were approached by the barmen who was more than surprised to see you in a place like The Garrison. You were dressed nicely which was the number one indication that you were richer than most of the folk in the pub.
“What can I get you?” He asked, looking you up and down. You sat on the stool, your eyes wandering around the place as you hoped to gain a sight of Arthur Shelby.
“Where can I find Arthur Shelby?” You asked, looking at him. Upon hearing the name the barmen froze as he walked away from you, not bothering to say anything. You let out a huff as you watched him go to serve other customers.
“Oi!” You yelled, raising your hand as a sign for him to come and serve you. He let out a sigh as he stepped back towards you, nearing closer to you as he looked nervously around the place.
“Look, everyone in here is scared of the Shelby’s. We don’t want no trouble with them.” He explained as you rolled your eyes at him. Of course they were afraid of them, who wasn’t?
“Do you want any trouble with Raimond Pierce? Because that’s what you’re going to get if you don’t tell me where I’m gonna find Arthur bloody Shelby.” You whispered back to him, seeing his eyes widen as he stumble backwards, almost hitting the shelf on which all of the alcohol was placed. Without even glancing at you he walked away as you turned around, grabbing your purse from the counter as you were ready to leave the place, understanding that you were not about to find him.
You raised you head, seeing John Shelby stand in front of you with a smirk on his face. Suddenly Arthur Shelby appeared from behind him and upon seeing you he stumbled over to you, barely able to stand. If it weren’t for you catching him he would have ended up on the floor, but luckily you had managed to wrap your arms around his shoulder before he did so. You looked over to John with your eyebrow raised, hoping that he would take Arthur away from you or at least would help you support him so that he wouldn’t end up on the floor.
“Why you here, Y/N?” Arthur managed to ask, looking over to you.
“I desperately needed that glass of American whiskey.” You mumbled, looking over to him. He smiled at your response before standing up suddenly. You looked at him with a confused look as your arms left his shoulders.
“It’s a good thing that Tommy ordered another box of it then.” A woman’s voice spoke from next to John. You saw a brunette older looking woman stand next to John with Thomas and Michael next to her. You figured that the woman was Polly Shelby. Your father had told you about her, telling you that she was the one who led the Peaky Blinders when the boys were away in France.
“Come. We have a lot to discuss, don’t we?” She said with venom in her voice as she walked towards a room that was opened for her immediately. The boys followed her close by as you stood still, confusion written onto your face.
You simply wanted a glass of whiskey, not some gathering of a family you weren’t even a part of. With a deep sigh you grabbed your purse as you walked into the room, closing the door after you.
You had assumed that Reid had been good on his word, because that evening you were bombarded with messages.
Why aren’t you coming? Rossi asked.
Girl, we miss you...Garcia had written.
Hot Stuff! It’s an excuse to get pretty! Morgan had enticed.
But the best one? Spencer’s message.
I really hope you’ll reconsider coming. I really am sorry.
Like you weren’t going because of him.
“Selfish,” you thought, tossing your phone over to the side as you primped your hair.
Staring at yourself in the mirror, with your mustard yellow cabled sweater, the over-sized collar gracing the bottom of your chin-length Y/C/H hair, and your yellow and white plaid stockings helping your feet to slip in nicely to your simple black flats.
You felt ready for tonight.
Grabbing your purse and slinging it over your shoulder, you grabbed your keys from the toss-bowl beside your door and slipped out of your flat, the smell of freshly baked bread hitting you on the way out.
“I guess she’s really not coming,” Rossi says, taking the glass of wine he poured for you and funneled it back in to the bottle.
“Anyone know why?” Hotch looks around at his team, Rossi striking up his stove as he gets to preparing the meat for his next Italian dish.
“Maybe it’s because a certain someone was a douche,” Morgan mumbles into his glass, eyeing Spencer from the corner of his eye.
“Hey, I apologized!” he yelps, Prentiss looking in his direction.
“Yeah, well…what you didn’t know was that she closed herself in the bathroom stall, cracking her joints while sniffing.”
“She…was crying?” Spencer asks hesitantly, swirling his wine in his glass as a defeated look overcomes his face.
“I don’t know why you don’t like her,” Garcia pipes up. “I have these girl evenings with her, and she’s awesome. She has his witty sense of humor, and sometimes her references fly right over my head!”
“Sounds like fun,” J.J. jokes. “but really, I’ve had her over a couple of times for dinner, and she is great with Henry.”
“She’s met Henry?” Hotch asks.
“Oh yeah, she’s even babysat for me. Henry loves her,” J.J. brags. “I bet if you asked her to watch Jack, she would. I bet Jack would love her as well.”
“I’ll have to think about that,” Hotch ponders, taking another sip of his wine.
“Let’s not dwell on the negative,” Rossi says, coming over and plating everyone’s noodles, “She’s the one missing out on a wonderful family dinner,” he says, giving a wiry grin that tells how disappointed he is that you aren’t here.
“Yeah, forget about her,” Spencer mumbles, sighing as he turns to his plate.
Shaking his head, Morgan looks down at his plate, taking a deep breath before saying what everyone else was thinking.
Walking into the cathedral, you meander your way over to the stairs, taking your phone out and turning it off just before making your way down into the basement. Walking thru the dark corridor, a door to your left opens as a head pokes out of the dim light spilling into the hallway.
“There you are!” Polly screeches…which is exactly why you called her Polly.
“Hey! Sorry I’m late, my team is absolutely insane,” you say, wrapping her in a hug.
“Still haven’t told ‘em, huh?” she asks, eyeing you with curiosity.
“Not their business as long as I don’t backslide,” you say, giving her a smile.
“Well, today is a very important day, I figured you would’ve wanted someone to be here with you!” she squeals, taking you by the shoulders.
“You’re here, aren’t you?” you ask, giving her a light wink before she draws you in for another hug, leading you over to get some hot apple cider as the fall air begins to blow in through the open window.
“Everyone, sit down! We have an incredible speaker here with us tonight.”
As everyone takes their seats, you set your purse down on a chair behind the podium, not listening as Polly introduces you.
As Spencer yanks the laptop from Garcia’s lap, he bangs on the keys, trying to figure out how to trace your number.
“Reid, stop!” Garcia yells, trying to yank the laptop away from him.
“Spencer! That is enough!” Morgan growls, grabbing him by the waist as he picks him up in to the air. “This is why she can’t stand you!”
“She’s at her 1 year sobriety meeting!” Prentiss yells across the room.
As everyone falls silent, tears streaming down Penelope’s cheeks, Emily walks over and puts her hand on Garcia’s back, pulling her in for a hug.
“She’s at her weekly AA meeting getting her 1 year sobriety coin,” Garcia chokes out amidst her sobs.
“…and I have never been more ashamed, or disappointed, to be associated you guys,” she finishes.
As the guys look back and forth at each other, tears springing into Rossi’s eyes, Emily takes Garcia’s hand as she says, “I think we have somewhere better to be,” walking out of the house and shutting the door behind them.
“I had the perfect upbringing,” you began. “A wonderful mother, a hard-working father, a nice middle-class two story home with a decent backyard that I always played in with our poodle named Rascal while my mother watched from the kitchen as she drank her coffee in the mornings. I loved that dog…”
As Polly looks up at you, a big smile across her face, you continue.
“School was alright. I made okay grades…I wasn’t a genius or anything. But high school was particularly rough. I took on weight as puberty hit, my hair was a mess, I had braces AND glasses, acne I couldn’t control, and a desperate need to fit in. I exercised to try and combat the weight, and as soon as I got my braces off I begged my mother for contacts.”
Hearing the door in the back open, you guide your gaze back to see Emily and Garcia walk in, smiling lightly as you nod to a couple of chairs in the front row.
You were secretly elated that they had chosen to come.
“But when I hit my junior year, I was invited to a party by one of the cute seniors. I had dropped 15 pounds, saved up my money from working in a grocery store part-time to buy all of the latest fashions, and I was incredibly excited to try my hand in make-up for my first ever party…”
Taking a deep breath, you continue, “…but when I got there, not understanding how make-up actually worked, I was the butt of all of the jokes swimming around the perimeter of the room. I heard phrases like ‘dime a dozen hooker’ and ‘blowfish’ and ‘bozo’…and I found that the drinks were enough to drop my shields and make light of myself as a joke.”
“Soon, I was invited to all the parties as the comedic relief. How outlandish my make-up could be started to be the highlight of the parties, and pretty soon everyone wanted a piece of ‘The Clown.’”
As your eyes start to water, you dip your head and take in a ragged breath, Prentiss and Garcia furrowing their brows as they were not familiar with this origin story.
“There was one party that got incredibly out of control. Lots of drinks, lots of laughter, and lots of boys. And one in particular had caught my eye…”
Watching them close their eyes as tears started to fall, you couldn’t help but cry yourself, muddling your speech as you went along.
“…the last thing I remember was telling him my name. The next morning I woke up with my clothes, torn and in a corner, my legs scratched and burning, and blood between my legs on the sheets of the bed. I grabbed my stuff, got dressed, hauled ass out of the window to the backyard, and never looked back.”
Wiping your tears away, you continue. “I drank myself through college, and somehow managed to keep a decent enough GPA to even be considered for the police force, and eventually worked my way up to being readily competitive for a position in the FBI…all the while drinking my weekends away as if I had no life outside of work and the bottom of a bottle…
“But when my now boss had called me one Wednesday afternoon to tell me that he wanted me to come in for a face to face interview a few months ago, I realized that if I was going to seriously consider this job-”
The door closing again caught your attention, and whipping your head up, you see the men of your team, plus J.J., strewn against the back wall, tears running down their cheeks.
“…in order to actually take this job, I couldn’t drink my weekend away. I needed to be sober. So, I decided that if the interview went well, I would quit. And if it didn’t go well, I’d treat myself to some high end tequila and a nice, clean gigolo.”
As Morgan’s eyebrows raise, he leans in to Rossi and mutters, “Gigolo? You think she was serious?”
Turning your gaze back towards Hotch, you continue your story to him. “Not only was Aaron Hotchner kind and intelligent, he was elated that I was considering the position, and when he shook my hand, I knew right then and there that I would get sober for this job. That I would get sober for him.”
As the entire audience sniffles and silences their sobs, you look to Rossi, whose shoulders are now shaking.
“I knew that I would get sober for them all.”
Stepping back from the podium, the audience rises to their feet and claps, whoops and hollers coming from Morgan as the girls wipe their tears away, stepping up on stage and standing on either side of you, taking your hands within theirs.
“It is with great pleasure,” Polly says as she adjusts the microphone, “That I present to Y/F/N her 1 year sobriety coin.”
As the claps start up again, you step up to the podium and take your coin, hugging Polly instead of shaking her hand.
“Thank you for everything,” you mutter in to her ear, causing her to grip you tighter around your neck.
And as the crowd continues to whoop and holler for your celebration, Spencer stands off in the corner, his hands to his face as he continues to sob into his palms, shaking his head and wondering how in the world he could have ever treated someone just like him as badly as he has treated you these past few months.
“Oh, my god,” he sobs into his hands, “Oh, my god…”
I went to a Batman themed dance party last week in this Batwoman costume I made myself. (Oh, I wish you could see the boots!) I didn’t do a mask, because it didn’t work with the glasses which I desperately need to see. 95% of the people I talked to thought I was Batman Beyond. The other 5% was like the one guy in the whole place who didn’t hit on me because he understood who Batwoman is.
i really hate to do this bc i hate asking for things but here goes
i’m in urgent need of money. i need 3000 sek for a new pair of glasses. (3000 sek = 365$ / 323€) i need to get that much in like a few weeks so i’m really desperate. i can’t offer anything in return….sorry ;;
i’m currently unemployed with no income and this is money i don’t have but i am in desperate need of new glasses. my current ones have bad scratches on the glass and the frames are starting to fall apart. the scratches obscure my vision and make it hard for me to see properly
i have very bad eyesight so there’s no way i can be without glasses
my paypal is
please even just a tiny bit of money would help! thank you ;;
The long and short of it is this: I’m a disabled, mentally ill, queer trans kid who can not currently hold down a job due to being physically unable to stand for more than ten minutes without extreme pain. I’m due to start university on the twelfth of September, moving into uni accommodation, and thankfully am getting financial aid. The not fun part? This isn’t going to get to me until the twenty first of September. So I have to survive a week and a half with no money.
I’ll be honest, there may be a chance my father comes through for me, but it’s not a big one. In addition to needing to, you know, eat, I have a few essentials I really desperately need, the most important of these being new glasses as mine have broken. Other things include pots and pans, toiletries, plates, notepads and pens… General university and housing costs. So in the absence of any other options, I’m asking for help!
But not for nothing! I can do: tarot readings, celtic rune stick readings and titania fortune card readings. I am also available to commission for poetry and short stories. I can also proof read any essays and stories and whatnot.
I really hate asking like this, but I haven’t got many other options. My paypal is email@example.com Ignore how ridiculous the email is, I was nine when I made it. If you want to see my poetry/ask for a reading/ask for a poem, please message me!
missed the selfie party earlier. figured i’d join in. this is me. :) *waves hi*
i rarely take photos of myself so most of my selfies are from ballroom dance events where i have crazy makeup or hair. the top one is from a ballroom dance party that i went to over the winter…lots of eye makeup/sequins are not my every day look but it’s fun to share that part of my life. the bottom one is pretty much what i look like every day. desperately in need of a color, glasses because i never get enough sleep to tolerate contacts all day, in a super sexy cardigan. XD
and that’s my 3-year old niece putting at least five ponytails in my hair. she’s quite the stylist.