i only made this so the my icon would appear on your dash


Full Walk Through!:

A - “Wow it’s dark in here. You better find a light source to illuminate the situation quickly. After all SPEED IS KEY.”

B - “Ah. That’s much better! Anyway, introductions are essential! Your name which you of course know is SEAN MCLOUGHLIN but you more commonly go by JACKSEPTICEYE or just JACK-A-BOY. You’re really into COFFEE not that you necessarily need the extra energy and you’re a gaming YOUTUBER. You’ve got a penchant for WHACKY HAIR COLOURS as well as COLLECTING MEMORABILIA and LOVING YOUR FANS. What would you like to do. Now that you can see three feet in front of you. Not literally. You can only see two feet. You get me.”

C -

1) “It’s a mattress. You know. The soft part of a bed. The boyant bedding for the boudoir. You’re not entirely sure why you put it right next to a doorway instead of you know on an ACTUAL BED. Each to their own I suppose.”

2) “This is the door you ENTERED through. It’s a lovely door isn’t it? Well as lovely as a door can be. However as TANTILISING as that door looks you have important business to do INSIDE this room. ”

3) “It’s just a HUMBLE BOX. Where did it come from? Who knows? All YOU know is that this little fellow made it’s way to you! Lucky box!”

4) “Just the smallest of REMINDERS to keep on smiling. Come on you’ve got this. From here on out you’re going ALL THE WAY to fucking VICTORY TOWN. But for the purposes of this situation you’re staying within this room. VICTORY TOWN can wait for today.”

5) “The CLOSET of MYSTERY. It’s unknown what TREASURES lie beyond this varnished vault but CRAFTY WOODWORK be damned you will find out! I mean it IS your closet. It’s probably just FULL OF MERCHANDISE.”

6) “SEPTIC SAM makes his debut! Look at all the SEPTIC EYES you have. Alright two might not seem too impressive but your COLLECTION extends to almost a whole ROOM’s WORTH of SEPTIC SAM memorabilia! Come to think of it it does sound a little grotesque having countless infected OPTICS of the face dotted around your room. Someone get SAM some gosh darn EYEDROPS or something.”

7) “Wubba lubba dub dub it’s some RICK AND MORTY MERCH! Look at it! These plushies are adorable and you can’t help but fawn over them with THE GREATEST ADMIRATION. Alas no time for appreciating your felt-clad FRIENDS you have tasks waiting to be done! Make like a Me-Seeks and hop to it!”

8) “It’s your NAME! Or one of them at least. Each letter represents a WORD that when correctly guessed allows you access to the portal behind the towering bookcase. PSYCH. It’s just a bunch of FANCY LETTERS. Or are they?”

9) “Both of these FRAMED PIECES are so very lovely to look at. You just hope to SEVERAL DEITIES that no one ever realises that you have no real clue how to even go about APPRECIATING art. But you give it your best and that’s what truly counts. I mean it’s open to interperitation here.”

10) “YOU go search around the room some more. He’ll STAY and guard the shelf. For some reason just looking at this GENTLE GIANT brings a TOTALLY MACHO manly tear to your eye. Now go search while he sits on the shelf he’s doing NO FOLLOWING anytime soon.”

11) “Three whole FUNKOPOPS of yourself. Wow. It’d be easy to make a joke revolving around little JACK-A-BOYS breeding like rabbits but the LOVE and DETAIL put into these by your fans is so darn HEART-WARMING it seems like a terrible shame to poke fun at it. Let’s just BASK in the soulless gaze of these TINY EFFIGIES for a moment. ……. Moment over it’s time to keep going. You’re NEARLY DONE.”

12) “A GOLDEN AWARD in praise of your ever growing mass of FANS. Every time you pass this BUTTON you can’t help but look and see yourself and realise just how ADORED and BELOVED you are. You earned this SHINING SYMBOL of the highest praise by being LOVABLE and RELIABLE and the inspiration for MILLIONS of SEPTIC EYES around the world.”

13) “These drawers appear to be locked shut. Perhaps you need a KEY? Jiggling the handle a little more however seems to actually suggest they’re just for DECORATION. It’s the fake JEAN POCKET trauma all over again. Quickly. Find ANYTHING ELSE to tinker with for now.”

14) “BOBA FETT’S HELMET. An icon of a true badass with a DASHING choice of HEADGEAR. It would be an interesting ITEM to EQUIP should you desire however we’re getting near our GOAL and we don’t have time to DILLY DALLY!”

15) “Who even is this DOUCHE BAG? No really who is he? You’ve seen him TWICE in this room and yet you have NO IDEA who in the hey this FISHY INTRUDER is. Could it be linked to your ZODIAC sign? Could this be the INVASION of the FISHY FIENDS? Or is this just a SMALL SCALE INVASION? Either way he seems to be staring at you with his BIG OL’ EYES. Neither of which are SEPTIC. Rude.”

16) “And finally. A PILLOW. Yes your quest has come to an END. Confused? Don’t be! After a long hard day of LETS PLAYING and VIDEO EDITING it’s imperitive that you REST yourself in order to wake up tomorrow as BRIGHT and PERKY as always! Well that does it for the end of this ACT. We’re gonna leave it here. Thank you guys SO MUCH for following this. If you LIKED this then PUNCH the LIKE and REBLOG buttons in the face LIKE A BOSS!! And HIGH FIVES all around! THANK YOU guys and I will see ALL YOU DUDES in the next ACT!”

@therealjacksepticeye ‘s HiveSwap Let’s Play made me SO HAPPY I might cry, I just had to put all my last few hours of consciousness into this! <3


Request: can u do an imagine wherein y/n is a college student and is having a hard time balancing her studies and having a long distance relationship with Justin and Justin plans a surprise for her and does all these cute stuff to y/n.

Sorry for the wait. Hope It was worth it.

Originally posted by beliectionerimagines

Time. It’s either your best friend or your worst nightmare. - A blessing or a curse - A hero or a villain. There are so many scenarios that can play out around the little hands of a mechanical machine that hangs on a dull wall.

In my case, at this second, I honestly could not hate time anymore then right now. It feels like it’s purposely teasing me, trying to boil my blood with every agonisingly slow second. I swear I think I can
hear the clock laughing at me. Each tick of the hands is a tiny giggle directed only at me.

There is so little time left, yet it feels like an eternity more. Just a few more seconds…





Oh thank God! With both hands, I swipe up all my equipment from in front of me and shove them aggressively back into my book bag. Not even letting Mr Martin compete his lecture on political opinions, I rush out the door and away from that nightmare of a class.

On the campus grounds, I’m immediately greeted with rushing students all around, all with the same determined goal and that is to get as far away from this hell hole as possible. Without even sparing a glance in the opposite direction, I’m immediately on the rush towards the girls dormitories.

My dorm room once I had approached it was my number one priority, quickly dashing inside as quick as possible, slamming the door with a sigh behind me. But It wasn’t as if I could just stop, drop and do nothing. I had hours and hours of studying ahead of me, and I was already having trouble keeping my eyes open.

It’s times like this I really wish Justin was here. To calm me down during times of anxiety and stress. I just miss him so much but I don’t have the heart to ask him to come and visit. He’s doing what he loves and I would never make myself a priority during a time made for belieber’s.

Many hours later, my dorm mate had been in out of the room for the last 20 minutes, yelling and laughing about with her friends. This totally threw me off, losing my train of thought somewhere between my books and the noise.

A sigh escaped my lips, fingers applying pressure to my temples in agitation. I can’t do this, not while I’m this distracted. I need my baby boy.  

After rubbing the corners of my eyes of the sleep forming, and removing my glasses from my face, I finally decided on a break and reached for my phone, quickly dialling Justin’s number for a facetime call.

It dialed, and dialled and dialled until….”Yo this is JB. Im probably busy in the studio or performing so just a leave a message and I’ll get back to you soon.” 

“Hey Jay baby. I know your probably busy but I really just wanted to call. Schools been really hectic and I just needed to hear your voice. Call me back as soon as you can. Love you.”

“Hey, Y/N! Can you run down to the store and buy us some beer.”

My head shot over to the door of my room, a sigh escaping my lips. It annoys me that my roommate is too late lazy to go out and do it herself, deciding to disturb my study session instead, but then again, a break and something to get Justin off my mind was definitely well needed.

It was still sun up outside, it being only a few past 2 in the afternoon meaning people were more then likely just finishing there own classes for today. Deciding to leave my phone at home, I swiped up my dorm keys and my wallet, and made my way out of the dormitory.

The walk to the local walmart was short and quite enjoyable. The late summer breeze sang around me, swaying my hair slightly as I strolled down the bustling paths. Students surrounded the entirety of the campus grounds, either chatting or finishing off some work. 

But my mind was set firmly on Justin. Oh how I missed him. 2 weeks ago was the last time we had spoken. 3 months since we had seen each other. It was as if he was only seeming to become busier and busier as purpose tour went on.

And the fact that our relationship is very private worries me slightly. Justin could honestly get away with messing around with a girl if he wanted to. Not that I didn’t trust him. But no one knows about us, so it only makes me more anxious about this whole situation.

As the doors of walmart retracted, allowing me access inside, I quickly dashed over to the alcohol section, grabbing ahold of the cheapest and most affordable box I could find. After a bit of struggle, I had managed to make it over to the register to pay for the beer, only to be suddenly interrupted by a loud yell from outside. 


It sounded high pitched and more shocked then anything. My eyes darted towards the windows of the store, peering outside at the scene before me. the Young cashier doing the same. 

All I caught sight of was a black SUV surrounded by a mob of girls. Suspicion drew within me, only one person I know that could cause such commotion running through my head. No, that’s ridiculous. He’s in New Zealand right now, half way across the world!

“Ma’am!” The boy called, it sounded as if he had been trying for my attention for a while. My head whipped back to stare at the boy, eyes wide.


“That’ll be 19.99.” He repeated, holding his hand out expectantly.

“Oh.” I mumbled, reaching out to hand the boy a twenty dollar note before grabbing a hold of the heavy box and quickly making my way outside. 

Gliding through the mob of girls was hard, and I tried everything to just ignore the scene and attempt to just get this box home as quick as possible, but the shouts of these girls had me drawn further and further in curiousity, one in particular catching me off guard.


Justin?! I-It can’t be! can it?

My head immediately whipped around, turning to acknowledge the SUV parked rather close to me. My eyes locked on the tinted window supporting the back seat, squinting slightly as if something in me just knew something. And before I knew it, the door was opening. 

Slowly, but it was opening, a figure finding its way out of the car. Screams had enhances, more girls appearing at the realisation of the pop icon in our campus but out of every girl, his eyes seemed to only be on one. Me.

My eyes watered, tears threatening to spill at sight and the box I was holding immediately slipped from my fingers, a small crack sounding as it impacted the floor. “Justin?” I whispered. 

A smile played at his perfectly plump lips, arms spreading slightly as if to say ‘you guessed it!’

At that moment, Mikey stepped out of the front seat, a bouquet of bright red and white roses, and multiple shopping bags from stores such as Pink, Nike, VS, Lou boutin and Pandora In hand. All topped with a large card sticking out the top of the roses reading ‘To My babygirl, Love Jay baby.’

Instantly smiling at the use of my nickname to him, I looked over into his eyes with a grateful and loving smile.

“I’m right here baby girl.” He mumbled but to me, it was the loudest thing i could hear. Instantly, I pressed my body forward, wasting no time but to jump into his arms. Ignoring all the confused and jealous stares emitting from all around, I pressed my lips against his as he supported me by placing his arms under my ass.

Both arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him to me to intensify the kiss. 

God, I missed his lips so much.

“You’re here.” I mumbled. 

“I’m here.” he repeated. “Right here.”

johnlockedatbakerst  asked:

Headcannon/prompt: Sherlock is mid case at NSY & John has to pick up toddler Rosie. When he brings her in, there's a few incredulous questions about Sherlock helping raise her from Greg and snide remarks about it from Donovan. Rosie is a bit tired and fussy. However, as soon as Sherlock walks in, Rosie lights up and reaches for him and he settles her on his hip without blinking and carries on working, while she rests her head under his chin and settles down. The others are surprised- John is not

@johnlockedatbakerst This has been sitting in my inbox for awhile now but I hope it’s worth the wait!

Sherlock was mid rant about footprints in “his” crime scene, mocking Anderson’s ability to handle a scene when an alarm rung out from John’s phone.

“And that’ll be John’s cue to go pick Rosie up from daycare,” Sherlock’s said, punctuating the end of his rant.

“Yeah,” John agreed, switching off the alarm. “Where are we in this? Do you still need me? Should we go home?” John never really wanted to go home while Sherlock was on a case. Being stuck at home going stir crazy when there was adventure going on was never good for his state of mind. But NSY wasn’t exactly the most inviting place for a two year old. With the phones and criminals and the office workers cooing at her, distracted detectives splitting their attention between the baby and the investigation, and Sherlock’s manic energy a trip to the office was a cocktail ensured to create a tantrum. But he always left the option to come back open, just in case.

“I’m not sure yet. I’ll text in twenty. Go get Rosie, I’ll be just fine without you for now.”

John nodded. “Right.”

On his way to the lifts, John placed an order for an Uber and it had arrived by the time he exited the lobby of the building. He was walked through the doors of Rosie’s daycare to find the blonde sniffling and rubbing her eyes. Seeing her obvious malcontent, he bent down to scoop her into his arms and comfort her.

“Hey there, little bee. What’s the matter, love?”

One of her caretakers appeared beside them and said, “someone’s a little crabby today. We had a little trouble napping today.”

“That’s not on at all, is it,” John asked Rosie whose only reply was to whine and mash her head into John’s neck. Well, home it is, then, John told himself. He didn’t deny the small pang of disappointment but his daughter needed some rest and Sherlock hadn’t texted so it wasn’t likely he was needed.


John flinched, Sherlock’s text alert summoning part of his attention. One handed, he dug into his pocket to read the incoming text.

-There were lacerations found on the victim’s feet. Definitely not self-inflicted. Need your opinion.

John clicked the talk to text feature, a godsend that Sherlock installed to help him with what his partner called “deplorable use of opposable digits”. The microphone icon glowed blue and John talked into the phone, “Rosie is fussy. Send a picture?” He pressed the send button and walked outside, bouncing Rosie on his hip as he went.

The reply was immediate.

-Bring her. Lestrade won’t let me take the pictures home. Says they’re evidence.

-Terribly inconvenient.

-Shouldn’t be too long. We can go home once you’ve gotten a good look.

-You can make the thing with the peas for dinner.

John replied, “are you sure?”

-Of course. See you soon.

John kissed Rosie’s forehead and asked her, “papa needs some help. Want to go see him?” Rosie nodded her head, her curls tickling his skin as she moved. “Well then, let’s get a ride then.”

Fifteen minutes later, John and Rosie were walking through the doors of NSY. It had been quite awhile since they had brought Rosie to NSY. Even then, only a handful of times before daycare started. Back then she mostly slept in the carrier or was passed around the office like a bag of chips, watched over by a couple of friendly officers. It hadn’t escaped John’s notice that people had intensely watched Sherlock interacting with Rosie without trying to look like it. They muttered under their breath about Sherlock’s apparent lack of attention and wondered why John was “allowing” Sherlock to dictate where “his” daughter was taken.

John had bit his tongue. Of course he was irritated that, even after all this time and everything Sherlock had done to prove his was human, that he did care, there were still people who saw him as he was before John. Unyielding, cold, distant. That just wasn’t the case anymore.

John had been given the gift of Sherlock’s unflinching devotion and that devotion naturally extended to Rosie. It didn’t take too long after Mary’s death for them to finally pull their heads out of their arses and admit what had been glaringly obvious from the moment they met; they were impossibly in love with each other and always had been. And once that fact was embraced, there was no turning back. They were both in with both feet in both love and work. But that didn’t mean much had changed.

They still shared 221B. The only real difference is that John had folded his clothes in alongside Sherlock’s in their drawers and Rosie had a room to herself. They still fought over silly things like whose turn was it to get the milk; it was perpetually Sherlock’s because John always broke down and bought it because the Great Detective couldn’t be arsed to actually get it. Only now, those fights ended in kissing and maybe a tussle in the sheets. They still worked together, as effective a team as there ever was. Only now they were sure not to take unnecessary risks with their lives to avoid making an orphan of their daughter. Still, they took out life insurance policies and updated their wills to provide a future for Rosie.

From the outside, John did admit, it didn’t look like much had changed in Sherlock. He still snapped at his colleagues, he still called everyone idiots, he still dashed off without much warning, and he still ran intellectual circles around everyone he came in contact with. But if one was inclined to look, they would see that little things had changed.

Sherlock never failed to check in on John while he poured over documents. When Rosie was with them, he made sure that someone checked Rosie’s nappies, even if it wasn’t him. He even tried to scarf down a few nibbles of food at John’s insistence when he was feeding Rosie and himself. Granted, he didn’t pick her up or fawn over her while he was working. But he didn’t pay close attention to John or himself when he was working. His partner was more than affectionate enough for the three of them when he wasn’t swimming in a case and John clung to those moments when The Work took precedence. Sherlock’s emotional distance while working was an accepted and predictable pattern, anticipated by all those who knew and worked with him. He had known and prepared for it and it bothered him that no one else could see the softer Sherlock. The one who read bedtime stories in funny voices, loved bathtime because he could play pirates, and learned lullabies on the violin. But that Sherlock wasn’t the one who saved people, so John tried to push his irritation aside. John knew that having a child wouldn’t change much about how Sherlock went about The Work. But John wasn’t about to get into a long drawn conversation to defend Sherlock against people who refused to see him.

There were more important things.

Stepping out of the lift, he was greeted by Lestrade. “Hey there, John. And Miss Rosie, how are you darling?”

Rosie turned her head away from him, hiding her face in John’s neck. John smiled at the movement and cupped her head, lightly massaging the back of her head. “We’re a little fussy today.”

“Gotcha, no stranger to that,” Lestrade said, giving them a little space. “His Majesty call for you, then?”

“Yeah, where is he?”

Lestrade gestured to a bank of empty interrogation rooms. “We’ve got him set up in one of the rooms over here. But if Rosie’s needing to go home, I’m sure he’ll be fine without you.”

John shook his head. “He said he needed some input on the lacerations you all found. It won’t take long, a half hour won’t make much difference in her mood to be honest. Then I’ll be taking them all home and out of your hair.”

“Don’t mention hair, mate,” Lestrade joked deprecatingly, running a hand through his thinning hair.

Donovan met them outside the room and said, “are you serious? He’s calling for you when you have her?”

John’s brow furrowed. “I always have Rosie. That’s part of the “parent package”, Sally.”

Donovan rolled her eyes. “Anyone can see she’s in no state to be out. Sherlock’s just being selfish, calling for you when you should be at home.”

John frowned, knowing that in a way she was right. Rosie did need to go home. But if Sherlock needed him, he wasn’t going to ignore him. That’s not how they worked. Not anymore.

He opened his mouth to speak when Rosie started whining and squirming in his arms, clearly restless and her patience wearing thin. John struggled to hold her and Donovan said, “see? Just take her home. Even Sherlock has to see that she shouldn’t be here.”

As if on cue, Sherlock poked his head out of the door, requesting post-its. “Oh, John! Wonderful, come here, I think I found something.”

At Sherlock’s voice, Rosie went still and whipped her head around to see Sherlock. Her eyes, watering and nearing Impending Tantrum territory, she shoved her little arms out to him and called out, “papa! Want you!”

Sherlock, without pausing, said, “of course. You can help your daddy and I figure out this little puzzle, come here.” He took her from John’s arms and settled her on his hip and in three seconds flat, she was quiet and still.

Lestrade and Donovan’s jaws hit the floor.

Without giving his colleagues the time of day, he refocused his attention on John. “Now that that’s settled, come, I have pictures to show you. Molly won’t let me see the body until tomorrow, most inconvenient.” He swanned into his temporary office, gesturing wildly with his one free hand as he went. “Now, this is going to sound highly improbably, but just hear me out.”

John grinned, tucking away his beam of pride deep in his chest and followed his madman into the room, bypassing Lestrade and Donovan. “Of course, love.”

Sherlock, with Rosie along for the ride, began to pace around the room spouting off his theories. John leaned against the metal table in the middle of the room and looked at the pictures Molly had sent them. Eventually, the even, if quick, pacing of Sherlock’s feet soon had Rosie snoring in his arms. At a particularly loud snuffle, Sherlock stopped mid sentence. He glanced down at the girl tucked into his body and curled his other arm around her to hug her closer. He smiled down at her and kissed her forehead before making eye contact with John.

Sherlock whispered, “naptime a lost cause at daycare, then?”

John nodded. “She probably won’t sleep long. But if we’re lucky she’ll make it home and be ready to eat something when we get back.”

“The thing with the peas,” Sherlock asked hopefully.

John smiled fondly and nodded. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Sherlock nodded slowly, smoothing Rosie’s curls with his palm. John couldn’t help himself, he straightened and closed the small distance between them to kiss his daughter and then Sherlock’s lips. The kiss was chaste and sweet and when it ended they pressed their foreheads together, eyes closed.

John whispered, “you know Donovan and Lestrade are watching.”

Sherlock huffed. “Let them look.” Sherlock extricated his arm from between John and Rosie and wrapped it around John’s waist to pull him close. “You were angry when you came in. It made Rosie more irritable. What happened?”

John chuckled lightly. “What? You can’t deduce it?”

“Of course I can. You just want to talk. So talk.”

“Git,” John whispered under his breath. “They still think you’re a machine, that you don’t care about us.”

“They’re idiots,” Sherlock said simply. As if there was no need for further explanation.

“I’m an idiot,” John pointed out. “Said so yourself.”

“Yes, well,” Sherlock said, amusement in his voice. He pulled back slightly and they opened their eyes to look at each other. “You’ve always been quicker on the uptake than the rest.”

“Took me long enough,” John mumbled.

“But you got there. That’s all that counts. Now,” Sherlock said, leaning in to kiss him softly once before straightening himself up and holding Rosie more securely. “I think it’s time we get our little bee home. We’re all hungry and I need my violin. Don’t bother putting anything away, Lestrade can do that.”

Lestrade’s voice over the intercom came through, “oi! I am not your nursemaid!”

“That’s what you get for A. spying, and B. not letting me take things home with me.”

“It’s evidence you berk,” Lestrade complained.

“Tsk, tsk, detective,” Sherlock chided, walking towards the door. “Such language. And around little innocent ears.”

“Bite me,” Lestrade barked back before silencing the intercom.

John chuckled and shook his head. He quickly scooped the papers on the table into a stack and stuck them in an empty folder. Lestrade met him in the doorway, looking somewhat sheepish. He had never seen Sherlock so demonstrative before and John supposed it could be considered a shock.

John just gave him a knowing smile. “We’ll let you know what he comes up with. Night, Greg.” Without another word, he followed in his partner’s footsteps to find him waiting at the lift doors. John placed a hand on the small of Sherlock’s back and pressed the call button. “Ready for home?”

“God yes,” Sherlock replied.

Thank you!

So, it’s that time again!

I originally intended to wait longer with my next post like this, but then again I’d only have waited because I would want to avoid having to face my shyness by doing this here. So, instead of waiting, I decided to go ahead with this number.

I have reached another number, that will be mentioned once but only below the cut for those that don’t like people talking about their amount of followers.

This is incredibly hard for me, but I had big plans for my next post and I intend to stick to those plans. It will get very long below the cut, so be warned when you click.

Short version:

Thank you all for following me and thus being interested in my Star and/or my writing!

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

OOOOHHHHHH so YOU were the one clogging up my dash with gross KLance bullshit. Shame, you could have been such a great blog :/






ANON I AM LITERALLY NOT SURE WHAT TO TELL YOU ASLSDJKFHDNKM WHY IS THIS SO FUNNY TO ME,,, but here, have some general tips for the future:

  1. it’s usually easy to see who clogs your dash with what content. just check the username that reblogged a post of the one thing you dislike and scroll through their blog for a bit. that’ll make it easy toooooo-
  2. -unfollow someone!! you can click someone’s icon and you’ll find the follow/unfollow button in the upper right corner!
  3. if that’s not enough, you can block someone. to do that, you also click a person’s icon and then click the small person thingy you can find right next to the follow/unfollow button. once you clicked it, a drop down menu pops up and you can click block. that’ll not only make you unfollow someone, it’ll make all posts from them disappear from your dash/tag scrolling!! :D 
  4. if you kinda like the content someone posts but not really certain aspects of it, you can install something that’s called Tumblr Savior. it’s a pretty genius thing that unfortunately only works on browser, but it’s incredibly useful. it lets you blacklist certain words and blocks posts that even just mention that word, so you won’t have to worry about it accidentally appearing on your dash. it also has a whitelist which you can use to un-blacklist certain posts if they contain a certain other word. it’s an a+ tool, 10/10 would recommend. just type it in the tumblr search bar and you’ll find multiple guides to help you set it all up. 

And that’s it!! :D Have fun blogging, hopefully this will save you from seeing your NOTP on your dash again. Also thanks for the compliment, I really appreciate it <3

BEAST’s “Ordinary Fan Meet & Concert” in Melbourne Fan Account.

(If anyone has fancams from the first game segment, could you send me them, please?)

Anyway, yesterday was BEAST’s Fan Meet in Melbourne. I attended with a girl I go to all my concerts with. We spent the day in the city and got dinner (It was amazing, if you’re in Melbourne, I recommend ‘Oppa’s Kitchen’ because the food, service and atmosphere was exceptional. Pretty cheap too.). So, after tea we went to where the Concert was to be held, we got our little lights for a fan project that was organised (props to the people who organize these things) and went inside. I got my lightstick and waited around for the doors to open. There was a staff member walking around asking for a half of our tickets, for the game segment with BEAST, so my friend put both of our stubs in. We eventually got to our seats, which weren’t great (I felt bad for my friend because I was the one who got the tickets) but they were still decent, we were just right at the back. We noticed that about four rows were empty, and eventually the three back rows got upgraded to those empty rows. My friend and I quickly dashed to the closer rows and sat down. The host eventually came out and started to do the draw. She picked out tickets and assigned a member to the lucky winners. Eventually it got to the last ticket, and to my utter shock my seat number was called.

Keep reading

Fanfic SIN by half-spectre-half-mineral


A low evening light seeped into Edgeworth’s office, cloaking the very man himself as he typed away at his computer, the dull clicks and clacks of the keyboard the only sounds echoing throughout the room. It was a great difference from the bustle that had assaulted his office only a few minutes before, and Miles Edgeworth was grateful for the peace and quiet.

Old friend Phoenix Wright had invaded Edgeworth’s domain in a panic, rambling on about some power outage in the middle of a lead he was coming on to. He claimed that it was urgent and asked if he could borrow Edgeworth’s own computer.

“My computer?” Miles had asked incredulously, still stunned from when Wright had slammed his door open and explained his situation in a severe case of word vomit.

“Yes!” Wright confirmed. “It’s crucial evidence Apollo sent me, but since he’s out of town, he can’t exactly do the case himself.” Phoenix shook both of his fists. “I thought this case was out of our hands, but this decisive evidence will change everything.”

Edgeworth shook his head in disbelief and leaned forward on his desk to speak. “Let me get this straight, Wright. You,” he began, pointing his finger at Phoenix. “Came to a prosecutor for something about your case in regards to something as simple as requiring a computer.”

Phoenix lifted his hand to the back of his neck nervously. “Well, when you put it like that-”

“Did you not think of going to a library, perhaps contacting Athena, or maybe even Trucy?”

“Hey! Listen, the library is farther away than your office and Athena went to one of Trucy’s shows. and when she’s at one of those she never answers her phone.” He grumbled before sparing a glance towards Edgeworth’s window. “I know this is kind of silly, but I’m already here, and it’s urgent, please Miles,” he begged.

Edgeworth sighed and removed his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re ridiculous, you know?” He stood up from his seat and moved in defeat. “Just be glad I wasn’t doing anything too important. And don’t exit out of any of my tabs.”

Phoenix smiled. “Thank you, Edgeworth, I promise I’ll be quick.” With that he hurriedly scurried over the computer, still standing as his fingers furiously typed against the keys.

He usually would have made more of a fuss, but the day, for once in his life, had been slow, and he just wasn’t used to it. Miles had moved to his bookcase, eyes roaming over each spine in interest when he heard his name called. “Hm?” He replied, back still to Phoenix as his fingers plucked one of the books from a shelf.

“I asked if it was okay if I logged you out of your email, Apollo had sent me the stuff through Gmail.”

Edgeworth turned slightly, “It’s fine I suppose, just hurry up.” And the typing soon resumed. What an unprofessional platform for a work email, Edgeworth thought. Couldn’t they use a more secure messaging approach in these kinds of matters?

“Yes!” Phoenix had suddenly shouted, causing the thinking prosecutor to jump in surprise.

He swiveled completely on his feet to face Wright, who clambered away from the desk, a victorious grin on his face. “We’re so going to get this one,” he explained before dashing towards the door.

Phoenix suddenly paused with his hand on the knob. “Oh and thanks again Edgeworth!” He called with a wave before disappearing with a wave.

“Huh,” Miles had muttered to himself as he stared at the closed door. He didn’t know which one his prosecutors were going to deal with the case Wright had apparently found the key to, but he already felt bad for them. An enthusiastic Phoenix was always so stubborn, and rather a nuisance.

He returned to his seat and sighed with relief that all the webpages he had opened previously were untouched. It wasn’t that he did not trust Wright, it was simply that the man was clumsy, for lack of a better word.

Edgeworth had commenced his endeavors, deep in concentration as he scrolled through the local database, marking dates on his calendar for his next trial or the occasional meeting. His head had been turned towards that exact table-top calendar when he heard a small ding.

His attention quickly turned towards his computer, where he noticed a little box with a mail icon fading in the corner of the screen. Edgeworth always kept mail notifications on in order to stay at the top of his game, to hastily attend to matters usually led to a better outcome.

Quietly humming to himself, he clicked on the box and watched as a window opened to an inbox that was certainly not his. Most of the emails in this inbox were unattended bouts of spam, with no folders indicating neatness. No, this email account was not Edgeworth’s, but he knew exactly who it could belong to.

He released a sigh as his cursor edged over to the log-out option, muttering Phoenix’s name beneath his breath, disgruntled. But something caught his eye, something rather suspicious.

It was the most recent email, the one that had brought Edgeworth to Wright’s inbox at the thought of it being a message regarding his own matters. The title was simple, “You’ve received a comment on your work”.

Comments? Had Phoenix sent out for professional review? Yes, he truly did need advice sometimes concerning his methods, but if he’d really needed such why hadn’t he just come to Miles for help? Edgeworth brushed off his slight offense but kept staring at the title of the email.

He was very tempted to click on it, to read whatever analysis another may have perceived of Wright’s technique. Yet his honor dragged on him, telling him that it wasn’t his business in the first place.

No, he thought, He wouldn’t do it, it wasn’t right, he had no part to play in the situation. And so he minimized the window and opened back his previous one and went back to work organizing his week’s schedule.

Oh to hell with it.

Miles quickly reopened the window, and with hardly any hesitation, clicked on the email. His eyes dived into the content and saw a brief paragraph, the apparent “comment”.

His eyebrows slowly began to knit together in confusion as he read the words: Oh my gooooood, this is so perfect! I can’t wait for next chapter!


Edgeworth leaned back in his chair, that hadn’t been what he was expecting. He thought he would see some critical consultation on court strategy, not whatever this was. What was this a comment for exactly, anyway? And what did the writer mean by “next chapter”?

There was a small blue link below the message that Edgeworth soon noticed. Perhaps it was the source of whatever the commenter was responding to, and would explain the oddity at hand. This time with hesitation, he clicked on the link, he hoped it would not grant him any viruses despite the extreme security within his computer.

A page soon popped up, host to what appeared to be an essay. Interest piqued, Edgeworth leaned in towards his computer and began to read the words.

As he read, he realized it was a set-up of a domestic situation, two men interacting friendly as they made themselves dinner. Despite the mediocrity and predictability of the writing, Edgeworth found himself to continue reading through the scene, when the most surprising thing occurred.

Edgeworth did not know why he had started reading the essay, or why he continued once he had realized it was a playful fictional story, but later he would wish he hadn’t done so in the first place when it came to the first sign of something being off.

His eyes had been skimming over the words only to read that the two male characters had suddenly kissed. Edgeworth leaned back for a second, utterly confused. What was happening?

Still interested he continued to skim through the words, only to soon become a spluttering mess as he jumped away from the computer. He could feel his cheeks turning pink as he’d realized what he just read.

The two characters, following what was initially a chaste kiss, had become a little more fervent than Edgeworth had expected.

He cautiously returned to his seat, his face still heated in embarrassment although no one was around him. Despite his reluctance, he knew he had to figure out what exactly was going on. His slow starting stroll turned in a full out dash to the end of the page as he caught words and phrases he had no desire to ever read again.

Did he just read what he thought he did?

Miles held his now bright red face in his hands, stifling his sounds of distress and pure shame. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest as realization hit his brain. Wait just a minute, he thought.

He proceeded to peek through his fingers, a little calmer now, where he saw that at the end of the last paragraph was the same exact comment that got him into this humiliating mess in the first place. His eyes read it once, and once more before he let out a miserable cry, why him?

Edgeworth began to notice all the features surrounding the comment, such as “likes” and to leave a comment of his own. That was when he noticed something that made his blood froze; every piece suddenly fit together.

The author’s name stood out in bold at the end of the story: AcE_PW.

Seriously? Really? Miles Edgeworth had never wondered what his dear friend did in his free time, but this was absolutely mind boggling. Why was this a favored activity of his, of all things? Edgeworth muffled a scream into his hands; he was going to kill Phoenix Wright.

But then Edgeworth debated if he should ever mention the event to Wright, and had started to lean towards blocking out the memory forever. But with the lewd words and descriptions written by none other than Phoenix Wright still burned into his eyes and mind, and he knew it would not be a simple task to forget.

The next time he saw Wright, in observation of a trial, his face would flush and his eyes would quickly avert from the opposite gaze. Edgeworth had been deliberately avoiding Phoenix, but when he clearly spoke Edgeworth’s name and asked him to join him in one of the lobbies, he knew he couldn’t pull it off for long.

“Are you okay Edgeworth,” Phoenix had asked, one of his eyebrows raised. “You’ve been acting kind of odd.”

Edgeworth crossed his arms and looked past Phoenix and at the door. “Oh, I’m fine, there’s nothing to worry about,” he could already feel the unease creeping into his face.

“Edgeworth,” Phoenix said slowly.

“Hm?” The prosecutor replied, still looking away.

“I always bring my magatama to work.”

It was then Edgeworth felt his blood run cold. He swallowed.

Oh no.


Iamsosorry. Thisisn'tevenwellwritten. I'llbeinthetrashifyouneedme.


based off this prompt

This article dealio has been in the works for a while and I figured I might as well publish it. Underneath the cut I discuss how I run my blog. These tips/tricks/hints can be applied to just about any blog that’s starting out, from a vintage blog to a nature one. Obviously it’s not end all be all guide about how to do it, but it’s how I approach running my blog.

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under the cut, you’ll find a guide to the basics of rp thread aesthetic. this guide includes information on different ways of formatting text, where to put blockquotes, gif sizes and even a little on the new trend in punctuation plus indents etc. used in indie rp as requested by anonymous. if you found this guide useful, please reblog or like this post.

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+sherlolly because...what was said

I’m still working through my feelings from TFP and today’s focus is that of the aftermath of Molly and Sherlock’s phone call. Also, I wanted to play around abit with a line that had troubled me in the episode. I guess I wanted to comfort myself a little haha. If you’ve come to read it, thank you so much. :) xx


Words  (also on FF.net)

It had been a week since the phone call. Molly had not been surprised at the silence after what had been an odd game of tug-of-war; a fight to see who could hold on to their veneer of protection just a little bit longer. Sherlock was not one to expose the contents of his heart, whatever those contents were, but neither was Molly. Sometimes, things were much better left unsaid, and Molly was a firm believer of that. 

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anonymous asked:

Did you hear that YsbaddadenTheBrave was driven out of the fandom over death threats? :\

So I’m combining your asks together, because while they’re slightly different I don’t like cluttering up my dash with drama (and I’m pretty sure the “events” you’re talking about are the same thing).

To the first anon, regarding YsbaddenTheBrave: no, I didn’t know they were driven out of the Star Wars fandom over death threats (but I was just informed on the details). I don’t think we ever talked, and tbh I don’t know if they were following me (I’m pretty sure I wasn’t following them). The name sounds vaguely familiar, though.

To both of you (and to all my followers/lurkers): I know there’s drama going on with the antis right now. I know, as a few posts about the incident made it onto my dash last night. I also know the antis are reading the things I write, lurking all over my blog. I know they’re taking screenshots and reposting my posts to complain about me and my followers without confronting me directly (did you really think I wouldn’t notice, btw). I also know they’re trying to bait me through anon asks (try harder, I can tell you’re antis by the way that you talk). I know they’re being generally unpleasant, to everyone. I literally couldn’t care less.

I couldn’t care less what the antis think or how much they scream, because I curate like a pro (see: relatively drama-free dash). I also don’t have time to deal with them. I’ve mentioned this before, but I’ll say it again: the Star Wars fandom is massive. The Star Wars fandom is a lumbering, unstoppable behemoth – THE Juggernaut of pop culture – and antis are a specific subculture specific to tumblr. They are a FRACTION of the whole Star Wars fandom, at best, and they are utterly meaningless to The Collective Fans™ at large. Star Wars and Star Wars: The Fandom were around long before they arrived on the scene, and they will be around long after they leave it. These are people who saw the movie, and only the movie – who have no understanding of Star Wars EU or the history behind it – and decided that because Kylo was popular they had to hate on him (and anything to do with him, including Reylo). These antis have no sway in the real world, or even in other online spaces, and to be honest the idea that these pseudo-scavengers are sending “death threats” is kind of laughable.

I mean that’s what they are, in every sense of the word. You guys know that, right? There’s a very, very good reason why these antis are trying to pick on you – why they’re targeting fans who just want to write a lil’ bit of Reylo – and that’s because they think you’re easy targets. That’s because they would literally lose this fight with anyone else in the Star Wars fandom, at large. If the antis tried this with Reddit – or god forbid, 4chan – they’d be dragged so hard they would never, ever recover from it, and they know it. These antis are people who are powerless in real life, and because they can’t hold their own weight online either, they go after people who are emotionally compromised. They go after people who can’t fight back. They’re bullies – really weak bullies – and scavengers don’t got the spine to go through with death threats. Like I’ve dealt with real predators before – people who can seriously do you harm – and if I thought the antis could, you can guarantee I’d be documenting EVERYTHING and turning it over to the police. But these people can’t. Their hate is meaningless, and you should ignore them.

Now I know not all of you can ignore these people as easily as I do. I get that, because my skin’s literally as thick as a shark’s, and I’ve been through the ringer before. It takes time to build up a resistance to things like these. But here are some Ohtze Guaranteed Steps to make your tumblr experience drama-free, for those of you who need it:

  • Turn off anon asks/reviews/submissions, both on here and on your fanfiction profile (if you’re on something like FF.net). Scavengers are cowards, and 9-times-out-of-10 they will send their hate anonymously. They don’t have the guts to stand by their words. If you take away the power of their anonymity (which is the only power they have), most antis won’t try anything. If they do msg you off anon, you can block/report them.
  • Block people from your blog. As I always say, there’s intent – what you plan to put into your work – and then there’s reception TO that intent, and you have no control over the latter. So you can’t really control what people say or do after the fact. That said, if you’ve got anti’s lurking your blog, hijacking your posts and spewing general hate, you can block them from your tumblr, and I recommend doing so. Here, this is how to do it (sorry @little-scribblers-heart, I’m not blocking you but I’mma gonna use you as an example, because you’re the first one I recognize and you’re a champ).

Here is your activity feed: you can see who’s reblogged you, who’s liked one of your posts, who’s followed you, etc. On the far right side of each “note,” you’ll see a little icon next to the post (signifying what kind of post it is).

Mouse over that icon: an ‘x’ should appear. (scribbler is ALSO NOT into the breeding kink, folks: that was an anti-breeder post, so don’t go spamming her either).

Click on that ‘x,’ and this screen will pop up:

Voila. You have just blocked someone from commenting, following, or viewing your blog. Congratulations.

  • Curate your dashboard. Curate it like a pro, so you don’t have to search the actual tags (and see people posting hate). The way I curate (specific to Star Wars) is I follow a bunch of BNFs (Big Name Fandom creators), general content aggregators, and a couple randoms I find really cool (who have the potential to do a lot more). The rest of my dash is NOT devoted to Star Wars, and if people start posting too much drama, I cull them. Tailor your tumblr experience, people: you can do it. You don’t have to subject yourself to their hate. It’s not hard.
  • Finally: remember that the Star Wars fandom is much, much bigger than tumblr, and INFINITELY bigger than the “anti” phenomena, specifically. They have no power over Star Wars, and therefore have no power over you.

ANYWAYS. That’s my opinion on the recent drama, and tips for staying positive/getting on with life. Remember: it’s always dinosaur day in Ohtze land. I’ve got lots of em, and I’ll share my dinos with you, too.

Originally posted by wetcatfo0d


Wow! I literally just made this blog. I can’t believe the overwhelming response I’ve gotten from the WONDERFUL people that I’ve met. I’m a month and a half into this blog and I’m almost at 400 followers and I’ve got so many new friends and many many old. 

I’m so glad that there’s so many wonderful people in this fandom and I’d love to take the opportunity to give back to a fandom that has come to me with OPEN ARMS. 



Two first prize winners will get a GIFT CODE to one major Pizza Chain worth $25 dollars. Alternatively, I can ORDER a pizza for you.

If you are a minor I am not comfortable ordering a pizza to your house, however, I will gladly order for pickup. And tip your damn pizza driver, hunty. 


 Second prize winners will receive one Funko pop of their choice delivered to their home or alternatively second prize winners will get all of the information to a VISA gift card worth around $15 USD. 


Three third prize winners will receive 100 plain icons each. I will not be providing a psd or doing anything to them. Because I’m lazy. I’m sorry. 

YOU MUST BE FOLLOWING ME. You must be an RP blog. I don’t mean to alienate the personal blogs that follow me, however, I want to keep it in the community! 

This giveaway starts today and ends NOV. 1ST.  Prizes will all be doled out by Nov. 10th. 



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I left my blog last Saturday with ninety-nine followers after a really, really hard day. My post for the evening said that it would be wonderful if I could get just one more follower to reach my first ever milestone here on Nico. 

Today, I have one hundred and twenty

I know follower counts are just numbers, but coming back to find that I’d not only made my milestone but passed it by more than twenty means the world to me. Knowing there are so many of you interested in this dork ( who, for the purposes of the occasion, is smiling here; good luck getting that expression out of him in RP ), and in me, and in my writing, is the best feeling in the world, and I can’t thank any of you enough for all the positivity, the wonderful interactions, and the welcome Nico and I have received.


There’ll be two winners. They can choose either a blog theme OR 25 icons of an actor of their choice! Here are some examples:

  • Mbf @unanchxred – that’s me!
  • Reblogs and likes both count, but a reblog would be extra cool. It gets the word out and all! And you can reblog as much as you like. <3
  • Giveaway ends Friday, October 30, at 12:00 PM.


There’s a list of incredible people under the cut! Take some time to read over them, appreciate them, love them, follow them if you don’t already – you know the drill. <3 <3 

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