just another quick update on my work

anonymous asked:

Nooooo I shouldn't have read that put your head up, lion - Preview!!!alskdjflaskjdflkjj I've been rereading the other Lions these past few days and now I can't get this new one out of my head aaaaah I hope you finish it soon I'm vibrating with excitement!

It’s a different world to the other lions (but really, Jasper got described as a lion so it’s my mission to have all Harry/Jasper fics I do have the world in there somewhere) but it’s the one I plan on working on while I’m aware for the week (surprise, I’m off to Wales for 7 days, no updates next week, I’m so sorry) on my iPod. So yeah.

Enjoy another quick preview then;

Vampires are still around then.

Harry rubs at the tender bite on her neck, grimacing as she stares at her reflection.

She’s been forced to conjure up a mirror, having apparated right back to the England the second she woke up with a face-full of earth and a stinging sensation just above the hollow of her throat.

Merlin, that hurt.

Well in the very least, she has the answer to Hermione’s question on if Basilisk venom really did beat out vampire venom. It’s a certainty given she’s not currently lusting after blood.


Fin: I actually don’t have many friends… Mostly because i’m a hybrid.. and another thing I don’t like to talk about… But of course we can be friends! Hope you guys like to swim and climb trees! 



Life Update // 01
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Hi. How are you guys? I hope y’all are okay. Just a quick update on what’s happening in my life lately. I’ve been working at my current company now for more than two years already. Yey! That’s an achievement for me considering the ‘millenials’ nowadays jump from one work to another quickly. Hehe. My plan is to resign after I reached the two years mark so a month before that I already talked to my boss on my intention to apply to other companies (I only applied to one as of the moment).

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I know you like this stuff, so here you go!

It comes as a bit of a shock when Marinette answers the door only to have a large, burly man with a moustache like a bristling caterpillar shove her aside hard enough to bounce her into a wall.  She stares in shock as he stomps in, calling for Manon.

Well, crap.  Can’t transform into Ladybug with witnesses around, can’t physically fight him with any real hope of victory—jeez, he’s almost as big as her Papa—and not enough time to text Adrien.

She is very glad that she’d taken a cue from Adrien and sewn that extra pocket into her jacket.

“Tikki,” she hisses as she wrenches open the broom closet and picks up the vacuum cleaner.  “Get in my jacket, text Adrien.  We need Chat Noir and the police.”

“Yes, Marinette,” the kwami says, and zips from her purse into the kwami-sized inside pocket, lugging her cell along.  There are some quiet vibrations a few moments later as the kwami taps out the message.

Marinette hauls the vacuum cleaner up onto her shoulder as the screams, high-pitched and desperate with panic, start.  As the man walks around the corner with a kicking and struggling Manon under his arm, she brings it down with all her strength, aiming at his head.  He raises an arm and blocks the makeshift club instead, grunting with pain as the vacuum cleaner shatters, gouging shallow cuts in his arm as plastic shards sail in every direction.  His grip loosens for a moment, and Manon takes the opportunity to wriggle free.  Marinette picks her up and runs for it.

She only gets a few steps away before a hand like a hair-covered vise claps down on her shoulder and slams her into the doorframe.  There’s a loud crak of impact; Marinette doesn’t know whether it’s from the frame or her arm. Manon screams louder as the man reaches around Marinette and tries to tear the little girl loose from Marinette’s unrelenting grip.

Doors up and down the hall are beginning to open at the commotion, though, and the man curses and grabs Marinette by the arm, dragging her along as he pulls a short-barreled, matte black handgun from his waistband.

“Try to run and you’re dead, girl,” he growls, before he spots one of the apartment complex’s janitorial staff, frozen behind his cart.  He aims and squeezes off a shot.

Light and thunder in a deafening wave fill the hall.  Manon’s screams grow louder and interspersed with desperate sobs, though Marinette can only just hear it over the sudden ringing in her ears.

She fights to keep her breathing under control as the man drags both her and Manon down the hall, past the cowering janitor, and to a van parked in a skew across three parking spaces.  The man hauls open one of the side doors and hurls the both of them inside.

“Buckle the fuck up,” he bellows at them, gesturing with his pistol before he slams the door shut.  Marinette checks the handles as he hurries over to the driver’s seat.  No dice. He must’ve turned on the child safety locks.

Marinette picks Manon up and settles her in one of the seats, wiping the tears from the little girl’s face as she does.

“It’s going to be all right, Manon,” she says as she clicks the belt buckle home. “It’s going to be all right.”

“I-I don’t want to go with him,” Manon whimpers as Marinette gets seated and buckles up herself, just as the engine rumbles and turns over.

“It’s going to be all right,” Marinette repeats.  “Chat Noir will save us.”

The van moves off, and she starts whispering descriptions to Tikki.

Adrien’s phone goes off as he’s finishing a late lunch.

He scowls a little at the first text, a simple “HELP” in all caps.  Well, that isn’t cryptic or anything—

His heart stops, then restarts, hammering away like hailstones on a metal roof as a stream of short messages comes in.  White van, black stripe, lengthwise.  Didn’t get license.  Large man kidnapped Manon and Marinette.  Wait, her and Marinette?

“Tikki?” he types quickly.

The ellipses stop for a moment, then restart.  “Yes,” Tikki replies.

“Witnesses?” he types.


Damn. So that precludes busting out Ladybug before busting some heads.

“Where are you?” Adrien types as he rises.

There’s a brief, terrible, yawning pause.  Logically, he reminds himself, Tikki is just asking Marinette. Logically, Tikki is hiding somewhere on Marinette’s person, in her purse or in a pocket, out of sight, and is therefore in no position to look outside to check the street signs.  Marinette is probably whispering to Tikki whenever she gets the chance, which is going to prevent a quick answer depending on how distracted her their abductor is.

Finally, after the longest minute of his life, a reply.  A street name, and a direction.

“Nathalie,” he says, after punching in her number.  “Can you please cancel my appointments for the rest of today?  I’ve got a terrible headache, I’ll just lie down for a nap.”

Adrien shuts his bedroom door and locks it.

“Plagg,” he calls.  “Plagg! Marinette and Tikki are in trouble!”

“Oh, what is it now?” Plagg groans.

“Kidnapping,” he says.  “Not an akuma.”

Plagg, for once, gets serious.

“Right,” Adrien says.  “Plagg, claws out!”

He reaches back for his staff and snaps it open as he leaps through his window.  He dials the police as he reaches the rooftops and starts running.

“This is Chat Noir,” he snaps before the person on the other line can answer. “I’m in pursuit.  White Honda van with a black stripe running along the side, three occupants.  One is a girl, nine years old, about eighty centimeters, tan skin, brown hair, golden-brown eyes, buck teeth, name is Manon Chamack.  Second one is a girl, seventeen years old, about a hundred sixty-five centimeters, pale skin, black hair in two ponytails, sky-blue eyes, name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng.  Third is a man, over a hundred eighty centimeters, about as wide, big, burly, hairy, tan skin with brown eyes, close-cut brown hair.  He’s the kidnapper, and he’s armed.”

He feeds them the rest of the details as he closes on the van’s last known location.

He will see her safe.

“Why are you doing this?” Marinette asks the man as she holds Manon’s hand.  The little girl sniffles; she’s well past the point where she’s capable of vocalizing her terror.

The man grunts as he makes another turn.  For a moment Marinette thinks that he isn’t going to answer.

“That bitch isn’t going to take my daughter from me,” he finally growls.

Oh.  Crap.

Marinette is vaguely aware of Nadja’s ex-husband; she’d started babysitting Manon while the divorce papers were just being finalized, after all.  From what she can remember, though, he’d been a nasty piece of work, more often drunk and violent than not.  It was hardly a surprise that he hadn’t even been granted visitation.

And now, apparently, he’s here for his daughter.

She whispers a quick update to Tikki in her jacket when he’s distracted by a momentary lane change.  Beside her, Manon whimpers, and clutches tighter at Marinette’s hand.

Chat moves as swiftly as he can, shattering roofing tiles beneath his feet with every powerful step, eyes scanning the traffic below.  His staff vibrates briefly in his hand, and he skids to a stop and glances down.

“They’re heading onto A1,” he shouts into the mouthpiece a few seconds later as he turns and bounds off in another direction.

The police dispatcher on the other end tries to say something but gets cut off. “I need you to block off all of the onramps,” Chat commands.

“Sir, that’s—“

“He has hostages,” Chat hisses.  “And he’s moving at speed.  If you try to stop him you might hurt them.  I can intercept them safely but I need the road as clear as possible. Get those onramps shut.  Down.

He cuts the connection before the dispatcher can respond, changes his heading slightly, and moves faster.

Marinette tries to keep calm as Manon’s father turns onto A1 and starts accelerating. Chat can keep up, she reminds herself, he’s just as resourceful as her—more, in some specialized ways—and it isn’t as though they haven’t chased down speeding vehicles before.  Or something similar at least.

She becomes aware of a distant buzzing noise.

Still, it’s an inconspicuous vehicle in a—well, a thinning crowd of vehicles. And if he didn’t see the message, or if he got onto A1 at the wrong place, then they might be a few dozen kilometers away with the separation growing.

The buzzing resolves itself into a distinct, warbling tone.

Okay, so maybe she’s just a little worried.  It’s been maybe half an hour since Tikki first contacted him, after all. She touches the slight bulge in her jacket for reassurance.  Maybe he was sidetracked.  Maybe there’s an akuma wreaking havoc that he needs to deal with first.  Maybe he’s gotten lost.

The tone becomes a dopplering, wordless scream of a battle cry, punctuated by a heavy whumph on the roof that shakes the entire vehicle and draws a startled curse from Manon’s father.  A second later, a set of loud spangs ring out that sound like rivets being driven through sheet steel.

Her heart leaps, and a wide grin spreads across her face.

He’s here.

Chat drives his claws through the roof, tests his grip, and then swings down and over, planting his feet on the wheel well.  He considers his options as he looks through the windows at Marinette and Manon.

Climbing over to the front of the car and punching the driver out, while satisfying, would probably not end well.  Pulling a Bucky and pulling the steering wheel out, suboptimal results, again.  Clawing out the tires is a definite option, but would probably cause the driver to lose control.  So again, damn it, no.

He refocuses on the two passengers.  Get them out first, vengeance later.

He rears back and jabs stiff fingers at the door; his preternaturally sharp claws puncture the metal easily, and a second surge of strength drives his fingers through up to the second knuckle.

And then the son of a bitch swerves.

Before Chat can tear the door from its bearings, the van swerves right sharply, nearly causing him to lose his grip on the roof.  That becomes a secondary concern when he slams into the side of a truck, hard enough to drive the breath from his lungs.  A second sideswipe against the truck knocks his head into something metal and unyielding.  A third makes the world go fuzzy, and he loses his grip.

Things get confusing.  He hits the asphalt and rolls to a chorus of honking and the sound of a few dozen sets of tires screeching to a halt, painful in its intensity.  Car doors slam a few seconds later; as the wind shifts, it brings with it shouts and running footsteps, and the smell of burnt rubber.

He comes back to the world.  Around him are a dozen confused and concerned faces.  Behind him, the breadth of the highway is filled with stopped cars.  Ahead of him, the van is shrinking away into the distance.

Right then.  Plan B.

He brushes off offers of assistance and stands, unclipping his staff from the small of his back.

“Stay back,” he snarls.  “I’m going to do something stupid.”

He uses the staff to launch himself into the air with practiced ease, but he doesn’t aim for the van this time.  He lands and launches, lands, and launches, and finally lands in a crouch about a kilometer ahead of the speeding van.  He clips his staff to his back again; he’ll need both hands if this goes wrong.


He’d figured out a while back exactly what Cataclysm was.  It was more a lot more than simple bad luck, or a directed, corrupting rot.  It was the power of entropy itself, a weaponized second law of thermodynamics.  Anything made, it could destroy.  Anything ordered, it could reduce to chaos.

And the purest physical expression of that chaos is hopefully going to enable what he’s planning.

He stares the van down as it accelerates towards him, right palm facing outwards in the universal gesture of denial.  He focuses Cataclysm with his will, forcing the magic into compliance.

The van speeds towards him, and Chat Noir stands firm, unyielding.

The van hits him.

At the instant of impact, Cataclysm takes hold.  The three occupants of the van feel a momentary surge of terrible heat flash through their bodies as ravening black motes take organized kinetic energy and reduce it to randomized heat, bringing them to a sudden—more importantly, a non-whiplashy and non-fatal—halt.  Chat grits his teeth and hammers his will through the magic, ripping the deadly heat from them, crushing it into a condensed star, powerful enough to blow off an arm.

He releases the tiny explosive packet of pure heat inside the engine block. Something detonates inside the stationary vehicle with a firecracker pop.

Excellent. Now to the punching.

Manon’s father frantically turns the key in the ignition, and Marinette allows herself to breathe a sigh of relief at the lack of any response.  It’s over, she thinks as Chat hops up onto the hood and prepares to punch through the windscreen.  Finally, it’s over.

Manon’s father pulls the handgun and shoots Chat in the face.  Chat’s head snaps back as the thunderclap report of the pistol fills the van, twice, three times more.  He topples backwards off of the hood.

Before she quite realizes what she’s doing, Marinette moves.  There’s no screaming involved, just a sudden, terrible purpose involving violence and that son-of-a-bitch’s head.

She unbuckles her seatbelt and kicks herself forwards in one smooth motion, aiming a punch at the base of his skull, the soft spot where spine merges into skull. It connects, and in the stunned moment that it buys her, she yanks him back by the collar of his shirt.  His head slams into the seat rest, and she drags him further back, enough so that she can wrap her seatbelt once around his throat.

Right, she thinks as she drives a short punch into his nose.  Now for the gun.

She rakes her nails across his eyes.  He screams and flinches instinctively, but the hand that comes up to cover his eyes isn’t holding the gun.  That hand is still held at full extension, pointed at the windscreen where Chat had been. Oh well, nothing for it.

She reaches forwards, seizes his wrist in both hands, and hauls.  The gun goes up, pointing at the roof, and he squeezes off another shot in sheer reaction. Manon screams as the sound slaps against them like a physical blow.  Marinette finds new reserves of strength, and pulls his hand back just the last bit she needs—

Quick as thought, she digs her thumbs in and twists, and his grip pops open, the handgun tumbling to the floor.  Marinette kicks it beneath his seat.  Right, now she can focus on the second bit.

She grabs onto her seatbelt and pulls, tightening the makeshift noose around Manon’s father’s neck.  He gags and flails wildly; several of his ham-handed, clumsy blows buffet her, but she hangs on as his face turns a bright red, shading towards purple.

And then he manages to turn just enough to grab one of her arms.  Before she can react, he’s torn one of her hands free from the seatbelt, loosening the noose just enough to allow him to take a breath. The next second, just as she’s reaching forwards to gouge at his eyes again, he slams her into the door.  Her head knocks against the window hard enough to send spiderweb cracks radiating across the glass, and the world goes fuzzy.

Bitch,” Manon’s father growls, and spits on her. Manon sends up a new tone of wail at the sight of Marinette slumped against the door, half out of her seat, and her father lands a heavy, backhanded blow across her cheek.  Manon settles into desperate, terrified whimpers as he leans down and starts fishing around for the pistol.

Marinette watches with very little understanding of present events as a black-clad fist smashes through the driver’s-side window.  Manon’s father comes up with the pistol, cursing, but the fist uncurls into five claw-tipped fingers that dig into the meat of his neck and pull him through the window.  Marinette tries to sit up and peer through the window next to her.  The sudden wave of vertigo puts a stop to that.

Chat is through playing superhero.

The white-hot pain in his face and in his eardrums translates easily to white-hot rage as he rises.  He swipes away a trickle of blood from one of the scratches across his forehead as it seals shut and stalks over to the driver’s side window.  He cocks his fist back as the man ducks forwards, scrabbling at the floor of the car.

Then he punches through the window, grabs the man by the throat, and drags him through, flinging him away from the van.  The man hits the ground in a wobbly roll and comes up with the pistol aimed in Chat’s direction.  Chat darts to the side, the gun’s barrel tracking him as he moves, and ducks as the man squeezes off another pair of shots, the bullets humming past his head like very fast, very lethal bumblebees.

This prick is mince.

He lunges as the man aims for center mass and squeezes off another shot and the bullet smacks into him just over the heart.  It drops to the ground a moment later, a sad little flattened disc of lead. The fourth shot misses as Chat seizes the barrel of the gun and forces it down, the bullet embedding itself harmlessly in the asphalt.

Chat squeezes as he stares the man down with all the lethality his gaze can muster. Metal bends and polymer cracks in his grip; the man lets the pistol go and takes several stumbling steps backwards as Chat holds the ruined pistol up, then casually drops it to the ground.

“Yuh—Yuh,” the man stutters in his sudden fear.  “You aren’t taking her from me.”

As Chat steps forwards, the man swings a clumsy haymaker at Chat’s head.  Chat blocks it with an upraised arm and gives the man a flat look.  Then, moving in a blur, he drops low and drives a pair of quick jabs into the man’s sternum and gut; something cracks audibly.  As the man doubles over Chat grabs him by an arm and hurls him several meters away, sending him rolling down the abandoned highway.

Chat walks forwards, steps deliberate, as the man stands again, clutching at his chest. As Chat approaches he stumbles back a step, then swings again.  Chat leans away from the first couple of attempted blows, then catches the man’s fist on the third.  Beads of blood well up from the man’s skin as Chat squeezes down, and the man sinks to his knees as bone grinds on bone.

Chat positions himself and brings his free fist back, aiming at the man’s face.

“Chat,” Marinette says, words slurred.  “Stop. Chat.”

Chat glances back over his shoulder.  Marinette is half hanging out of the driver’s side window, eyes glassy and barely focused.

“S’over,” she says.  “Stop it.”

Chat’s ears flick.  He can hear Manon’s sobbing faintly emanating from the mostly glassless window.

“Stay put,” he finally growls at the man.  The man whimpers; he takes it as a yes.

He releases the man and pulls his staff free as a news helicopter starts to circle overhead.

He dials 15.

“Someone’s got a hero complex,” Marinette says a few nights later, her head in Chat’s lap as he sits crosslegged on her bed.  “You’ve made the news again, kitty.”

“Really?” Chat says, braiding her hair absent-mindedly.

Marinette rolls her eyes and rests her hand gently on his.  He stills.

“I’m fine,” Marinette says.  “You saved us.”

“I might not have,” Chat says to a responding groan from Marinette.

“No, you wouldn’t have,” Marinette says.  “Come here.”

Chat leans down and kisses Marinette briefly on the lips.

“Oh, before I forget,” Marinette says brightly.  “Mama and Papa want you to come over for dinner on Friday.  As thanks.”


Hello all! Today it’s time for my first update!

 I announced my search for a coder on Friday and have already gotten 4 bites, 3 of them are local, if I managed to work something out with someone here it would be HUGE and I have no doubt it would ABSOLUTELY 100% speed up my motivation and development process, so let’s hope for the best!

SInce I just recently re-announced the project I have been mostly R and Ring with some Hearthstone, mobile games, and netflix. For this update I thought it might be fun to take a quick look at how far along things have come since I first started just on the character design alone :P

 Expect another update soon!


UNIQ REACTION To you having to do a sexy dance with another idol.

Hey! Just a quick update for you guys~



“Oh I’m fine! I know my jagi only has eyes for me! This dude got nothing on me”

He’d be confident about your relationship, not letting work get between the realtionship.


As Yixuan, he’d be pretty confident about your relation, but that little tiny bit of jealousy would bother him from time to time. He’d go with you to every rehearsal, just to make sure the guy keeps his hand just where he’s allowed.


He wouldn’t like it not a bit, but he knew he had to trust you, since himself had to to some sexy dance sometimes. He’d make sure to let the guy know that all you needed was him tho.. Being sassy when needed~


“That’s a no no” *extreme sass mode activated*

“Please stop Seungyoun.. It’s only work”

“But why do you even need that guy when you have yours truly here?”


“Do you really need to?”


Gif Credits To Their Original Owners!

~ADM Pandacchi

Quick update. I have an actual house. I’m buying a car in less than a week and I’ve gotten two raises at work and possibly getting two more. Besides that my dating life is non-existent due to guys being shallow and wanting just sex or for the most part completely ignoring me. So yeah. One part I’m making more money. Another part I’m probably going to die alone before I’m 30.


sat/sun 12/13 aug. 2017 (ส/อา 12/13 ส.ค.)
day 6 for @gradblrchallenge✈️

another quick update since i’m still in transit: i’ve been working on my paper again and - funny story - earlier today, it crashed AGAIN. i am honestly at a loss because i’m a freak about saving files/clouds etc. i have a weird ability to lose files and i hate it. idk if anyone has any kind of advice, it would be appreciated. i swear i do all of the proper saving procedures.

anyways, i’ve been going through my paper and i’m almost done- just reviewing for coherence/yada. i’m hoping to finish my paper before i get home and get a chance to nap on the plane.

anonymous asked:

Are you still doing this babe <3 ?? or what are you currently doing?

Hey love (and everybody else that has been asking), I’m sorry for not posting, but my life has been great & extremely busy lately. Let me give you a quick update: Im about to graduate this summer, also I’m working 30 hours a week in PR. I’m still sugaring, but mostly to find investors for my own company I’m planning to have set up early 2k16. Thanks to a little inheritance and Sugaring money I currently have half a million in savings and another half in investments.. so you could say I’m off to a good start. Also, my bf and I are doing very well.. Lets just say I have quite the nice & pricey accessory on my ring finger. 

With all that i haven’t really found any time for tumblr tho.. I do think I will start posting again but it takes time I don’t have at the moment. 

Love you guys tho xx

Camper Swap Update

HellO friendos! Just a quick thing to say I have not dropped or forgotten about Camper Swap. There is another edit in the works, and I’m working on some writing.

At this time, though, I am very busy. My job dropped me a few weeks back, and since then things have been hectic–figuring out bills, working my temp job, I won’t bore you all with details. Rest assured, however, that I am still working on the AU when I have a spare minute.

acclimation - minkey

~9.4k words, modern supernatural au, fluff

side jongyu, continuation of this prompt

Kibum meets a werewolf on the bus and they’re kind of a perfect match. Kibum falls (in multiple ways) without even noticing it. But maybe it’s a good thing. Maybe.

hi guys! this is just a really quick update with something I’ve had kind of done for a month. I was saving it for this moment because I knew I’d be busy; I really wanted to post a jongtae I’ve been working on today but it totally just got way longer so that may be another week or so. I’m so sorry for the inactivity but yeah I’m swamped right now. also I apologize for any pacing issues/typos because my beta is also starting school and I didn’t want to bug her uwu

Keep reading

Whimsy (MOD): I haven’t posted in a while, so here’s quick post-it scribble I did just to let everyone know I’m not dead and haven’t abandoned the blog or anything. After a move, things got more hectic than expected, resulting in moving again and some elongated job hunts, but things have finally settled down for me. I’m working on a few updates so I can get them posted in quick succession of one another to get the story for Sea Swirl back on track. Look forward to some fresh activity soon!

I hate that I haven’t updated in awhile, and a big part of why I’m updating today is because I recently had my second not so entertaining encounter with another SD & SB.  You would think that other people enticing themselves in the SD/SB lifestyle wouldn’t be so quick to judge. 

Yesterday afternoon, I forced my hun to let me treat him out to dinner, and so I decided to take him to one of the nicest steakhouses in my location. It also just so happened that I know a chef who works at this particular restaurant, so I rarely ever have to make reservations.  When we come in, there was a SD & SB ahead of us attempting to get into the restaurant without reservations as well. The hostess informed them that they were fully booked and offered the bar to this couple, to which they hesitantly accepted. We were next in line, and after a few exchange of words, the hostess went ahead and cued us to follow her to a table inside. As we’re both minding our own business and walking pass the bar, both the other SD & SB began a loudass conversation about how I must be a sugar also, and how that was embarrassing that I had to do the talking to get a table in the restaurant. Both my hun and I overheard this, and we just kind of rolled our eyes to one another and continued walking. 

Once seated, we enjoyed our long and delightful meal. (I’m still a bit upset that my hun sneakily paid for the bill in addition to providing me the gifts above…. Not only that, he’s also coordinating a europe getaway trip for us and I’m just like UGH, I feel so useless!) Aside from my side rant, after finishing dinner, we get up to walk back out of the restaurant. While passing the bar, the SD rudely smirks “How much is her monthly allowance? Hey girl, I bet I’m giving mines more than what you’re receiving from that guy who clearly had you do all the flirting for that table.” For starters, you never ever EVER question my hun’s authority, and so my hun retorted with something that went similar to this: “First off, this lovely girl is my girlfriend and so unlike you, I don’t have to pay for her attention. Second, I let her do the talking because she insisted on treating me out tonight. If her talking didn’t work, it would’ve resulted in me pulling out this $9000 bill I received from this same restaurant last week when I took 6 of my board members out to a celebratory dinner and paid with my black card. And who are you to judge when you’ve clearly ordered the cheapest items on the menu while sitting at the bar?” The other SD again retorted with how my hun is “full of shit” to his SB and attempted to turn around to end it there. Again, you never ever EVER question my hun’s authority. To this my hun responded with  showing the asshole his $9000 bill, black card, gave the guy his business card and said “google me fucker. You’re lucky I don’t know your name because I could easily get your ass fired right now for the bullshit you just pulled.”  However, he did get the SD & his SB  kicked out of the restaurant. End of rant. 

FNAF3 audio transcriptions

since the glitchiness of the game audio and the panic attacks of a certain lets player makes the audio a tad hard to hear, i’ve done my best to transcribe the phonecalls and the first audio tape!

google docs link is here, i’ll have the text under the cut in case the link doesn’t work for some reason

Keep reading

Possible 3-Month Hiatus

I will be going back to Malaysia for an internship from 21st May (this coming Saturday) until 29th AUGUST, and as I am not sure where I am staying will be providing wifi, or if I will use my money to purchase data to use, I may go on a hiatus, especially when tumblr takes a lot of data to load the gifs, videos etc, and I need to save them for communication purpose (also not to be mean, but malaysia we have slow af internet okay, and I don’t have that much money to buy speedy good-quality ones)

I will still have a queue going, but I don’t have much in queue - maybe 100ish, and when it finishes, well I will be gone D: so don’t be alarmed when I’m not active, and I WILL BE BACK after this!! (tumblr is my life and a bottomless pit that I can’t escape)

But!! I will try to see if it is possible for me to use wifi from where I will be working (shhhhhh), or if I will have good enough internet to use there, so it is still indefinite! But I will make sure I make a post to say whether it is an absolute hiatus or not :)) and having no internet, or less, will probably mean more time for photoshop, so who knows - maybe I will just post and not reblog much, as again, it takes time to load posts.

and if anyone of you wanna continue messaging me (or start to), I will still be able to reach through apps! I will probably still check tumblr messages (i will try, but try inbox if you need, it will send notification to my email at least), but you will find me easier through emails, skype, whatsapp, kik, line, snapchat (not ideal but if you want?? it always crash on my mobile) just message me before Saturday (before friday night in US time) if you want my contact info 

quick update (23/5): the place i’m currently staying has horrible wifi to the point it is basically non-existent, I will be moving to another place next week so hopefully…now using work computer for a bit so the hiatus is pretty definite, for now