just give us a good ending yeah

immortalliar  asked:

I think the reason why it didn't feel like a series finale is because the villain of the series finale was not UBER A. You would expect from the final villain to be the biggest, baddest villain of them all who has been in charge of everything since the beginning. Alex wasn't. She was just there to give us season 6 and 7. Otherwise CeCe would have been revealed in 5x25 and the show would have ended with Big A.

Yeah that’s a good point. They should’ve never called Alex “Uber A”. Heck, they should’ve never called her an A. She never even wore the hoodie in the finale, what the hell. Alex had her own agenda. She’s just another villain, but not necessarily an A.

"So this lich is giving us a guided tour of the most dangerous dungeon in this world?"

[Mild Curse of Strahd spoilers]

So our party is investigating the Amber Temple in Barovia, when our chaotic good (emphasis on the former, as the latter changes at the end of this story) cleric Rokas accidentally discovers a lich who has lost his memories. She fails her roll to know what a lich is.

DM: So yeah, you basically just think this skeleton dude is pretty chill.

Rokas: I’m gonna cast Greater Restoration on the lich

The lich regains his memories and is super grateful to us for helping him, so when we ask about the weird voices we had all heard (which we found were the temples evil spirits reaching out to us), he volunteered to show us all the tombs

DM: you know… I really see no reason why he wouldn’t show you all the treasure, too.

We ended up getting ALL the loot from the temple, and three of the four of us (including the cleric) ended up making deals with the evil spirits. This included our wizard making a deal to become a vampire - he just had to kill someone who revered him and be killed by someone who hated him.

gods of wood and stone

(this may or may not ever turn into something, so I thought I’d leave it here as the product of my procrastination.)

Obito gets lost on the way back to the afterlife.

It sounds like the start of the worst joke ever, like something Kakashi would mock him for forever after finding out about it, but it is, Obito admits to himself with great reluctance, actually true. This is definitely not the Pure Land, Rin is definitely not waiting for him, and he is definitely alive, because apparently using Kamui to skip out on your path to the afterlife leaves you alive even when you don’t want to be.

The worst part is, Obito can’t even regret it. He’d make the same decision again, because Kakashi needed his eyes so he wouldn’t just stand on the sidelines like a useless lump or throw his life away trying to take a hit. With Kamui, Kakashi has a chance at getting them a victory against Kaguya. Without it—

Without it he’s dead, and Obito doesn’t need the blood of any more teammates on his hands.

Cursing quietly, Obito pushes through a particularly tight net of tree branches, trying to figure out where he is. Another dimension, he can tell that much—Kamui gives him a good sense of such things—but unless he wants to kill himself with chakra exhaustion he can’t teleport back out of it. He could try it to get back to the afterlife that way, or just use a kunai, but—

Obito is a stubborn bastard. He was fine dying to save his friend, because there was no other choice and he was dead at the end of the war anyway, but if he’s alive? Yeah, fuck that, Obito is going to survive. It’s what he’s always done, and even if it’s against the world’s best interests, Obito is going to keep it that way. He’s alive, and no one can take that away from him.

The forest thins out up ahead, the spaces between the tree trunks widening as the ground grows rocky, and Obito makes for it, hoping to find some higher ground so he can at least get a look at his surroundings. The earth is covered with old leaf-litter, soft and silent underfoot, and Obito feels like he should know it, like this whole area is familiar, but he can’t quite place it.

He rounds a thick stand of trees, pushes through a thicket of brambles that curl away from the touch of his Mokuton, and hears—

War. War like the one he just left, the one he started, but without the monstrous roar of the bijuu or the overwhelming lash of chakra from shinobi with no concept of human limits. The earth trembles beneath his feet, the air rings with shouts, and there’s a clang and crack of weapons meeting. Fire roars, the smell of scorched cloth and flesh rising in its wake, and there’s a loud cry.

A familiar cry.

Obito reacts without even thinking. He dodges around the last copse of trees, chakra already surging within him, and bursts out onto the battlefield just as there’s a flash of yellow light.

Years of learning how to craft a plan, how to alter it on the fly, how to act and react and take advantage of every skill he’s managed to cultivate—that’s enough to let him take in the fight in one swift glance, ignoring that fact that it should be impossible. Senju on one side, heavily armored and fighting desperately; Uchiha on the other, backs bared because their stupid pride won’t let them wear armor, but pushing the Senju back. Two sources of chakra brighter than the rest—one on the far right, two heads with long black hair, a dragon made of wood, a familiar gunbai and a curl of scorching flame. The other is at the far end, almost dead-center. A fading glow of gold, black hair, Uchiha symbol, and he’s turning but it won’t be fast enough.

But Obito has faced a man who’s even faster, and he can make it in time.

It’s nothing conscious that drives him—the connections are simpler than that. Half a moment to judge, another bare fraction of a heartbeat to let Kamui whirl to life, and there’s a beat in Obito’s blood that sounds like the cause the cause the cause. Nothing solid, nothing certain, but trained instinct and denial working in tandem as he whirls off the battlefield. A portal into the Kamui dimension, and almost before he fully materializes he has another forming, leading right back out, and he snatches up a staff from a pile of stored weapons and is gone. As soon as he’s through he shifts his body sideways, back into the other dimension as he phases through the man—no armor, just robes, and fuck but Obito can’t believe he’s part of a clan filled with such arrogant assholes, thinking they’re too good to wear armor in a fight—and brings the shakujo around.

A sword collides with it in a flash of yellow light, and red eyes framed by white hair go wide.

Obito snarls, in no mood to call for a truce here and now, and plants the butt of the shakujo in the ground. He leaps, using it as a pivot, and slams a foot into Tobirama’s armored chest with all the force of his chakra behind it. The future Nidaime goes flying, and Obito lands lightly, yanking the staff up as he turns.

Uchiha Izuna rounds on him with a victorious laugh, red-and-black eyes bright with triumph, and opens his mouth.

Obito sweeps his feet out from under him, dumps him on his ass, and buries him in grasping roots that drag him to the ground and pin him there. “When the hell is it ever going to be enough for you bastards?” he snarls right in the man’s dumbfounded face. “How many innocent people need to die in this stupid fucking war before you finally decide that you’ve had enough revenge?!”

There’s no answer, only blank gaping, and Obito growls, pivoting on his heel. Several knots of fighting shinobi are watching him with one eye, clearly wary, but not enough to stop their own battles. It’s not going to be enough to save them, because in a split second Obito has made up his mind. It’s a stupid decision, probably the worst he could come up with, but if there’s a chance in hell of stopping all of this before it starts, Obito will take it.

“Stay there,” he growls at Izuna, leveling his shakujo at him, and then turns. A burst of speed sends him hurtling right at a Senju kunoichi with her hair in a topknot and the ponytailed Uchiha she’s fighting, and he shoves right behind them, knocking the woman into the man and pinning them both with Mokuton. The Senju lets out a startled cry, but Obito is still moving. Branches and roots erupt around him, grabbing for shinobi without discrimination.

Those in Obito’s path don’t have nearly as much of a chance to fight back; Kamui makes him a ghost, and even when he’s tangible his speed leaves him all but untouchable. He plows through the ranks separating him from the other fighting pair, drives forward with a wave of Mokuton subsuming everything behind him. There’s a snarled knot of fury growing larger and larger in his chest, a twist of something that’s very close to grief, and he’s had enough.

With a shout, Madara shoves Hashirama away, then whirls in, sword sweeping down. Hashirama catches it on a thick burst of wood, shoving him back, and in the same moment Madara’s eyes flicker up above Hashirama’s shoulder, taking in the rest of the battlefield in an automatic sweep.

Obito, barely three yards away with his shakujo already swinging, catches his eye and bares his teeth in a wolf’s grin.

Oh, he’s going to enjoy this.

Hashirama must see something in Madara’s face—either that or his instincts give him warning, but Obito likes the idea that Madara’s dumbfounded expression serves as warning enough. The man ducks, rolling to the side, and the ring of the shakujo sweeps across the space he just occupied. It just misses Madara as he leaps backwards, a fireball bursting from his lips, but Obito phases right through it, landing lightly and spinning the staff through his fingers.

Madara feints left, but this is man who trained Obito to begin with, almost a century younger and far less skilled, and Obito easily spots the misdirection. He lunges the opposite way, catches Madara’s sword when he reverses directions, then twists past the blow, drives an elbow into Madara’s gut, grabs him by his long, thick hair, and uses it as a handhold as he spins, knocks Madara’s feet out from under him, and drags him down to the ground.

From above and behind him, there’s a cry, and Obito wrenches the sword from Madara’s hand, keeping the other man pinned with the shakujo against his throat, and half-turns to level the blade at Hashirama. It taps the Senju’s chest as he pulls up short, eyes wide, and Obito snorts.

“One move and I’ll happily put another hole in this waste of space,” he growls, seeing the way Hashirama’s eyes flicker from him to Madara and back.

Hashirama stares at him for a long moment, then nods and takes a careful step in retreat. One half-glance around them and he says very quietly, “You have Mokuton.”

Madara makes a sound like a pissy cat dropped into a pond. “You have the Sharingan,” he spits, as though this personally offends him. “You’re an Uchiha.”

“And that fact has been responsible for pretty much all of the misery in my life,” Obito retorts, and for a breathless, terrible moment he’s back in that clearing under the full moon, a handful of seconds too late to save Rin from Madara’s manipulations. One blow and he can stop all of that here and now, can prevent so much of the pain that might come.

Hashirama must see something of that in his eyes, because he takes a quick stride forward, only to pull up short when Obito snarls and levels the blade at his throat again. “Please, don’t!” he insists.

“Get lost, Senju!” Madara snaps at the same time. “This is an Uchiha matter, I will handle—”

“Clearly it is a Senju matter as well,” Tobirama says coldly, coming to a halt a short distance away, but his eyes are on Obito’s sword where it touches his brother’s collarbone.

“I don’t think so,” Izuna counters, equally chilly and just as biting as he edges closer, Sharingan eyes narrowed and wary. “Just because some Senju bastard couldn’t take no for an answer when it was coming from an Uchiha kunoichi—”

Instantly Tobirama whips around, offended rage written clearly across his face, and he grabs for his sword, only to be pulled up short when Hashirama reaches back and grabs his wrist.

“But—” Tobirama starts to protest.

“Izuna,” Hashirama says, carefully even, and he doesn’t look away from Obito but there’s a spark of tightly contained fury in his dark eyes. “Mind. Your. Tongue.”

Izuna flicks a glance between Hashirama and Tobirama, swallows, and takes half a step away from them. “Brother,” he complains.

Madara gives Obito a dark look, but he doesn’t try to move. “You wouldn’t stand for such an insult to our clan, Izuna,” he huffs. “Don’t expect the Senju to have any less pride.”

Narrowing his eyes, Obito presses the shakujo in a little more firmly. “Don’t bother taking that high and mighty tone, Madara,” he bites out. “You’re the one I hold responsible for all of this, and I’m going to fucking take it out of you hide.”

Red-and-black eyes go wide, and Madara almost flinches away from him, hands rising in something like surrender.

Obito doesn’t want surrender, though. He wants to rip into Madara the way he wasn’t able to before, wants to get a hand in his chest and tear the heart right out of him, pay back every bit of pain that Madara inflicted on the world, through Obito and through Zetsu and by his own hand as well. Wants to rip and slash and hack away until this monster is nothing but a pile of bloody flesh, unable to hurt anyone ever again. It overwhelms him for the space of a breath, white-hot rage the only thing inside of him, and before he can think to stop himself he tightens his grip on his shakujo and—

Big hands grab him, one arm around his waist and the other around his chest, and with a jerk he’s hauled right up off of Madara, dragged back against a broad chest as dark hair tumbles around him. “No,” Hashirama says, halfway to a plea, and his grip tightens enough to force the air out of Obito’s lungs.

Obito freezes, stiff and stunned at the touch of another human. Years, it’s been, since anyone touched him to do anything but inflict pain, and his muscles go tense and tight in anticipation of a blow.

There isn’t one, though. No hit, no pain, no kunai slid into his kidneys to gut him and leave him for dead.

No pain, just—

A trickle, wet and hot, against the back of his tattered robe. Blood, by the smell, and since Obito doesn’t bleed anymore it has to be Hashirama’s, has to be from when he knocked the sword aside to save the man who will eventually kill him.

It’s too much. The thought of it, the reality of standing here over Madara, able to end everything before it begins, and Hashirama is the one to save him—

What Obito did, the people he killed—that’s on his head. But it’s on Madara’s too, on Zetsu’s, on Kaguya’s. Uchiha Obito should have died in a cave-in when he was thirteen, but he didn’t, and the reason for that is right in front of him. The reason he didn’t carved a seal into his heart, killed his best friend, and gave him a twisted, broken vision of the world as an illusion, and then set him to unmake it.

Obito is responsible for his own actions, and he knows it all too well. But Madara was the trigger. If Obito was the sword then Madara was the hand that forged and wielded him, and that has to mean he bears at least a part of the blame from the hell of the past few years.

No,” he snarls, and though he shoves backwards to loosen Hashirama’s grip and get away he doesn’t reach for Kamui, doesn’t try to hurt the man (again, again, something in him whispers, hurt him again you mean). “Let go of me! He deserves whatever I do to him!”

Hashirama’s grip isn’t harsh, but it is immovable, and he’s as solid as an oak as he drags Obito back another step. “Don’t,” he says quietly. “This isn’t the way.”

Naruto, Obito thinks, guilt and grief and regret and anger all wound up and tangled together. He curls his fingers into fists, takes a breath that vibrates with anger, and does the hardest thing he’s ever managed in his life.

He opens his hand and lets the weapon go.

Elopement - Jason Todd x Reader

Bullets rang around you as you sprinted down a corridor towards a closing metal door. You dove through, rolling to your feet on the other side. Glancing over your shoulder, you smiled when you saw the men chasing you disappeared behind the closing door. The door sealed behind you.

“I’m in,” you spoke into the comlink as you surveyed the room. Finding a control panel, you attempted to hack the building’s computer system.

A chuckle sounded from the other end of the comlink. “I never doubted you for a second.”

“Sure you didn’t, Lover-boy,” you teased, grinning at the chuckles buzzing in your ear. “How are you doing with the mercenaries?” 

“Oh, we’re having a party out here,” he replied. The faint sound of gunshots echoed through the com. You frowned when you didn’t get another answer.

“Jason?” The panic made your voice crack. Time stopped as you waited for a reply.

“I’m still here, Sweetheart.” You sighed as Jason’s husky voice filled your ear. Even after all this time, your heart still fluttered at the sound. “One of these idiots just shot himself.”

You snickered, finishing your hacking. Sticking a flash drive into the terminal, you started downloading the information. You and Jason had accepted a contract to collect data on Black Mask’s movements through the western part of the United States. The two of you were currently in one of Black Mark’s main warehouses in Las Vegas. “I’ve started the download.”

“Good,” Jason grunted. The sound of a punch came through the com. “I might need your help out here. More mercenaries showed up.”

“I’ll come when I can,” you replied. You hacked into the security cameras to find out where Jason was. When you found him, you winced at the number of new mercenaries attacking Jason. He was holding them off, but you knew he would need your help to take them down. 

The terminal beeped, the download was finished. You took the flash drive out, slipping it safely into your pocket. Taking out your own gun, you shot the terminal to erase your tracks. Once it was destroyed, the sealed door reopened to reveal the men who you had trapped outside. They raised their guns at you.

“Nice to see you again, Boys,” you greeted cheerfully, swinging into action. The men were down in five seconds flat. You sprinted back down the corridor towards a glass window. Shooting out the glass with your gun, you leaped through the window to land a flying kick to one of the mercenaries attacking Jason.

“Hello Sweetheart, it’s nice of you to drop in,” Jason flirted as you joined him in the battle. The two of you fought seamlessly together. 

“I was in the neighborhood,” you mused, punching a mercenary out cold. You flipped over Jason to perform a high kick on another one. 

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Burned: Arrow 5x15 Review (Fighting Fire with Fire)

So sorry my friends! I have slept. I am medicated. Thus I can write.

Oh Episode 15. You have become the season nemesis. The pebble in our proverbial audience shoe. The yucky chocolate filling in the otherwise yummy chocolate box.

Arrow has begun a tradition over the past three seasons. The 15th episode is filled with a whole lot of suck. I’m excluding 1x15 and 2x15 because I happened to really enjoy those episodes, but 5x15 can go sit in the corner with 3x15 and 4x15. Now, is it Felicity banging Palmer level? 

Or Felicity breaking up with Oliver level? 

Eh. Depends on your perspective. Those were very low lows. Maybe I’ll just leave 5x15 on par with those episodes.

The good news is, 3x15 and 4x15 were a bottoming out of sorts. We said to ourselves, “Arrow can’t get much crappier that this!” and, for the most part, we were right. There was an upswing as Arrow headed into the back half of the season.

Why is it like this? I don’t know. Arrow hits this wall around the 11-15 range almost every single season. There’s a lull and we run into a series of episodes we could seriously do without. 

I don’t think Arrow intends to write a crappy episode. I think they try very hard to make excellent TV every week. The problem is the 23 episode season, and maybe this is why I’m a big “smeh.” I fully expect a third crap, a third good, and a third excellent every season. Typically, that’s what I get. So, I toss this episode into my one third crap pile, grab another bag of chips and write the review.

Cause we gots to talk about why "Fighting Fire with Fire” was a whole lotta suck. We shall address the suck with a copious amounts of gifs, because I’m in. I’m not changing the channel. I’m too invested. You jump I jump Arrow

So, when eps like these come along, I just have to laugh, vent, and have some fun with it. But never fear! I do see rainbows on the horizon. There’s yummy chocolate in this box somewhere. 

Let’s dig in…

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coloring (more like editing) process

gonna use this mob to finally explain my COLORING PROCESS.. and how i go from these base colors to the final product .. 

i always start with my base colors, which are almost always the same, so i keep a color palette to choose from. I usually pick the skin tone first and then change the hue for diff colors (I sometimes change the saturation and brightness too) The example below is the skin tone i use almost Always.. and of course it can be changed later on

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sugamon + clothing
  • “joon-ah, do u want this hoodie?? it’s too long for me and it’s champion”
  • “sure hyung thanks”
  • “yoongi-hyung, do u want these black jeans my thighs won’t fit into them”
  • “yeah thanks”
  • yoongi can take one look at namjoon’s closet and point out which ones are clothes that he bought for himself but ended up too big 
  • (yoongi the type to buy smth not his size because he thinks it’ll look rlly good on namjoon but doesn’t know how to give it nonchalantly so he settles for telling namjoon that he bought it for himself)
  • (”hyung this isn’t?? rlly ur style why did u buy it in the first place”)
  • (”uh,,, i just thought my wardrobe could,, use,,, some change,,,”)
  • (”,,,huh,,,,alright then,,”)
  • (namjoon’s totally caught on but he doesn’t say anything because yoongi trying to explain himself is cute)
  • namjoon enjoys the irked look on yoongi’s face when he gives him jeans and he tells him that they were “too short” on him
  • “the legs were just too short hyung-”
  • “i geT it, tall person- now evaporate-”
  • namjoon the type to buy pastel hoodies and give them to yoongi
  • namjoon waking up to see yoongi looking through his closet for ‘that one shirt i gave to you last year that would rlly go well with my outfit today’
  • the other members heading into the van and saying “hyung isn’t that yoongi-hyung’s shirt he bought that when we were out shopping yesterday”
  • “no he gave it to me”
  • “oh- looks good on u”
  • yoongi messaging namjoon saying “i was wearing the shirt you gave me”
  • namjoon texting back w/ a smile on his face “i know yeah i saw”
  • sugamon the type to perform together wearing clothes the other person gave to them
  • sugamon buying each other clothing
  • sugamon

anonymous asked:

call me prompt for kevin and Wymack pleaseee :-)

Leave a “Call Me” in my ask, and I will write a drabble about one character asking for another

  • it was late in the night as kevin rushed to the hospital
  • his hands were tightly gripping the steering wheel and some of his fingers were starting to go numb
  • but he kept driving
  • he was most certainly speeding, but couldn’t slow down
  • there was no way he would miss this
  • you will not miss this  he scolded himself
  • but suddenly he couldn’t breathe
  • his lungs were constricting but no air would come through his mouth
  • he pulled off at an exit and pulled into a gas station
  • just as his vision began to blur he pulled out his phone and hit the number 1 speedial
  • it rang for a moment before a woman’s voice lofted through the speaker next to his ear
  • “kevin! how are you”
  • “abby-” he began “need- wymack-”
  • “kevin? hold on, just give me a second”
  • he heard a rustling sound from on the other end of the phone before a deep voice spoke
    • “kevin?”
    • “uhhh-”
    • “what’s up? are you okay?”
    • “she uh, thea”
    • “take a deep breath, use your words”
    • “thea went into labor”
    • “already? isn’t she due in two weeks?”
    • “i’m going to be a father”
    • “son, calm down” 
    • “i– can’t– breathe–”
    • “shhh okay, follow me. in and out”
  • after a couple long minutes, kevin’s breathing evened out and he was able to speak again
    • “what if i’m no good?”
    • “look kevin, will you love this child?”
    • “of course”
    • “will you protect it?”
    • “yeah”
    • “then you’ll be fine, just remember to breathe. you and thea will do great”
    • “okay”
    • “i’m proud of you, son”
    • “thanks dad”
Roadtrip Shenanigans Part 2!

More headcanons! 8D All of them? Who knows ♥
Tag again for @garrulousgibberish and @howtotrainyournana *hugs*

- Ok first things first. Food. Who cooks? Gotta be some nights when they’re out in the middle of nowhere/can’t stop or just in general Ford vetoing eating out every night.
Though they have to be careful and keep an eye on Mabel - she keeps trying to add ingredients when they’re not looking.
(Mostly Stan because he’s found out that given the right wording Ford will agree to Mabel’s experiments.)
Unfortunately, as Stan knows already from their sailing - Ford makes good food when he doesn’t get distracted by something more interesting than cooking.
…Lots of things are more interesting than cooking.
It doesn’t take long into their first ‘no we’re not eating at a diner’ night for Ford to pop out of the RV with a sudden change of heart. 
“You win. How about we eat out instead?”
“Wait, what-”
“No reason! I-I mean we are on holiday, after all… right?” 
Stan doesn’t believe it for a second.
He waits until the kids are asleep though to tease him.
“So… no reason at all for going out for dinner tonight?”
“Huh? No, I already said that. We- uhh- we deserved it-”
“Uh-huh? So it had nothing at all to do with scribbling in your journal when you shouldn’t have been or something?”
“…” (It was actually looking through the photos Dipper had got of the last cryptid they’d encountered but pointing that out would be a victory for Stan.)
“So, how burnt was it exactly?”
“Well, I think it could still be classed as edible but I thought the kids might not agree with- Stan, stop laughing! You’re gonna wake them!”

(Alternatively there is no conversation. Stan doesn’t realise. And instead the next morning there’s a confused Grunkle looking around the kitchenette. “Sixer? Where’s the pan?” “Pan? What pan?”)

Suffice to say - it might be safer if they don’t cook all that much. Or together. Together is good. You think they’d know that by now.

- Almost every possible seating arrangement = mayhem.
♥ Ford driving with Dipper sat next to him with the map seems like a winning combination if they’re both determined to get them to their destination. In fact they’re the best at navigating and keeping to Ford’s route (though Stan and Mabel would disagree on this being a good outcome). But the problem is that the other two sat behind them go out of their way to be the biggest distraction they can be- or in which Stan will do anything Mabel asks without hesitation.
♥ Ford driving with Mabel’s map skills also works for a time- but Mabel is more likely to point out interesting things that catch her eye instead of the turns their meant to be taking quite early on, or start chattering away to Ford about something completely different and just add on a ‘oh, that was the turning’ after the fact. 
♥ Stan driving with Mabel leads to really out of the way stops when Mabel points out places on the map nearby that make them curious and Stan turns the RV around without a thought. This gets worse and more deliberate if the nerdy chatter from Ford and Dipper behind them gets too much for them.
They may or may not make it into a game at those points to see how long it takes for one of the two in their excitement notices they’re no longer on route.
♥ Stan driving with Dipper actually works out better than most of the above. Though that all depends on Stan listening to Dipper and not just doing what he fancies doing instead. And that usually depends on how rigidly they’ve been following Ford’s route up until that point. He’s got to stick to that goal after all.
♥ Ford driving with Stan throughout the day doesn’t really work either. As soon as the kids distract Stan (almost instantly) he stops helping out with the map. Stan driving with Ford telling him where to go also quickly breaks down into Stan coming up with arguments for amazing diversions nearby instead of doing as he’s told.
♥ The only times it’s not mayhem would probably be when the kids are asleep or just starting to drift off. Ford behind the wheel and Stan softly chattering to get the kids to sleep and to keep Ford awake. He keeps them on track then, it’s easier (and probably safer).
Just peaceful moments when Stan’s too tired to push Ford’s buttons. The whirlwinds are finally crashing out and whenever Ford glances over Stan’s staring back into the RV with a soppy smile on his face watching the little terrors finally wear themselves out.
…Ford most definitely teases him for looking so sappy in those moments.
Stan can’t quite bring himself to argue, settling for a ‘like you’re any different’.

- Matching roadtrip sweaters! Mabel makes them on the first day and dons one instantly with Ford following suit.
Dipper and Stan try but they can’t wear them for long- it’s just too warm in the little space.
Dipper may or may not write down a journal entry on how his sis and Grunkle can stand to be that warm, it’s just not right. (How do they do it? Another Pines family mystery!)
Mabel might also make sweaters for the end of the trip too - each with a unique design as a reminder of different things each family member did.

- They pick up obnoxious bumper stickers wherever they end up. Two of course - one for the RV and one for the scrapbook Mabel’s making. 
“So we got this sticker while we were being chased by the griffon, and this one when we accidentally stumbled into a fairy ring…’ Every single sticker has a story and everyone bar the Pines worries that they are weirdness magnets because how on earth do you fill up a scrapbook of different cryptids of one road trip how.

- There are also a lot of candid photos in the scrapbook. Singalongs and silly soppy smiles when they think the others aren’t looking. Proper all out laughter and leaning on one another to stay upright. Passionate arm waving and excited conversations. Half asleep confusion and pranking one another.
So. Many. Candids.
All the happy fun times, all the infectious glee and bright eyed happiness.

- The kids have to bring their homework with them - parents orders. And Ford tries to make sure they get it out of the way early whereas Stan thinks they should leave it til the end. 
Ford wins.
Ford therefore gets the job of helping while Stan drives.
…Stan shouts out the answer from the front when they’ve been puzzling over it for too long. 

- Stan tries to use Stanbucks wherever they go even though they have money to spare.
Ford can’t decide if it’s ridiculous or impressive. “They have you face on them!”
…He never knows quite what to think when Stan succeeds.

- It’s not until they reach Gravity Falls that they hit a snag that really should have come up at the beginning of the journey.
Our favourite Gravity Falls sheriff and deputy pull them over as soon as they realise it’s the Pines family driving into town.
Ford doesn’t know it’s them. Ford has a sudden realisation.
“Shi- Stan, if they ask- you were driving.”
“What? Sixer? Why-”
“I’ll explain later!”
“No, nonono, you explain now. I have been letting you drive because you told me you knew how!”
“I do know how! But that doesn’t mean I exactly stayed anywhere long enough to need to prove that!”
“Oh for the love of - really, Ford? Really?”
“What? It was just another skill I picked up while I was running from Bill.”
“…Have you ever gotten a license? In any dimension?”
“What part of on the run did you not get?”

- Stan still lets him help drive back after the trip to Gravity Falls. He doesn’t really care that much, he’d just have liked to know before he let Ford take the wheel.
He just hopes the kids parents don’t find out.

- The trip ends just as it started, with the kids back home. The close quarters got a bit too close at points but, it was a good trip, another Pines family adventure and they kind of don’t want things to go back to normal just yet. 
It’s the end of summer all over again.
“Hey, don’t give me those sad looks. You can always video call us, you know that.”
“Yeah! And besides, next time you’ll just have to come on a boat trip with us, now won’t you?”
After all, there’s always a next time.
A new adventure waiting.

issa yes ft. taehyung

you were sitting on your porch, waiting for one of the boys to come and pick you up. you were gonna stay over at their place for the day. at first, that wasn’t even the plan. you thought that you were just going over there for a few hours but you were basically forced.

they missed you. you’d only visit them once a week and they were needy so that wasn’t enough. especially for taehyung since you two were super close.

he was the first to befriend you. he had a bright smile, personality and he could make you laugh. he was the most attractive man you had ever met. in a cliché way, he was the ‘total package’.

it was like you found your soulmate. (you did)

“hey y/n!” jungkook’s voice startled you since you were too deep in thinking about how all of this started.

he stuck his head out of the window and called out to you again although you were getting up. “shut up kookie.”

“well you should move faster next time.” he grabbed yout bag from you and handed it to taehyung. you didn’t even notice him.

“what’s poppin’ y/n?” taehyung asked you in a high pitched voice and did something weird but amusing with his face.

after you got into the seat comfortably, you reached behind you and ruffled tae’s hair with your fingers. “wassup baby.”

he leaned back and pursed his lips at you. his cheeks quickly and faintly turned into a rosy color.

“you’re making him blush.” kookie cutely sighed and pulled out of your driveway. he was the one to ship you two all the time.

“hey. she’s not it’s jus-”

“she’s hot. she’s one of those meagan good beyonce looking types man.” kookie cut taehyung off.

“shut up and drive.” you cringed.

“drive! drive! drive!” kookie and taehyung shouted in unison.

“why do i deal with y'all?” you turned to the side and looked out of the window. it was going to be a long ride.


as soon as you walked through the door, you were attacked with hugs by everyone except yoongi. he was sitting in the rocking chair with earbuds in but at least he acknowledged your presence by waving.

taehyung started to get a little uncomfortable, you saw this. maybe it was because the boys were kissing you (all over your face except for your lips) and literally bear hugging you.

“okay that’s enough.” he said as he took your bag from you and signaled for you to follow him, but you just looked at him in a confusing way. “you’re sleeping with me? right?”

“oh yea-”

“come on.” he told you while he headed to his room.

“they about to fu-”

“oh you finally got y/n to say yes?” namjoon asked while pointing at the both of you.

taehyung huffed and grabbed your hand, literally dragging you to his room. once you two got there, he closed and locked the door. you sat down on his bed and waited to hear whatever it was that he had to say.

“you shouldn’t let them kiss you.” he placed his hands on his hips and eyed you until you answered him.

“why? it’s not that big of a deal. you do too, it’s all love.” you shrugged.

“because i like you y/n, i get jealous and you know this.” he sat down beside you and took your hand in his. “i’m just-”

“cute. you’re just cute.” you squeezed his hand and gave him a small smile. “you know we can’t date tae.”

“that’s bullshit.” he removed his hand from yours and rubbed his temples. “i really want to be with you y/n you’re all i want. i’m not stopping until you’re mine.”

it wasn’t like you hadn’t heard that line more than fifty times. you believed him, but there was just something in you ; telling you that it wasn’t a good idea.

you readjusted your body so that you could face him. his eyebrows were going inward and his lips were in a pouty position. he was mad.

“it’s not bullshit tae you know we can’t date. i’m scared.” you crossed your arms and stared at the floor. it was all that you could do.

“why!? tell me why. why can’t we be together when you obviously want me just as much as i want you?!” he stood up and walked around the room, trying his best to avoid eye contact with you.

“first of all, you need to stop yelling at me or we’re fighting. secondly, it’s because…. i’m not like the other girls here. and i don’t want you to gain more hate than you already do because of me. i don’t want anything bad to happen to you.” you let out a big sigh.

“do you think that i care about other people’s negative opinions? seriously y/n? i want you. i don’t care about anything else right now, just you.” he finally looked you in the eyes. “you’re beautiful to me and remember that standing out is good. why would you want to be one of those mediocre girls out there?”

“because those mediocre girls don’t receive hate on the daily, they fit in, th”

taehyung couldn’t take anymore of you talking yourself down so, he cut you off. with his lips. his lips were soft like feather pillows and he (his lips) tasted sweet. you realized that you had never actually kissed him before.

just as you were about to deepen the kiss, he pulled back and looked at you; with the biggest smile. “your lips taste like that one chocolate fountain at golden corral. remember that?”

once you heard him say something about a chocolate fountain, you were torn between cringing, blushing, and laughing. but you ended up doing all three “are you saying that because i’m black?!”

“there’s that beautiful smile!” he half shouted, ignoring your question.

“tae. wait. we just kissed. and it was good.” you scrunched up your face to show a confused look.

“yeah, you’re gonna have to get used to random kisses.”

“but are we dating? no.” you sarcastically replied.

“you know….i could take care of you. i won’t let anyone hurt you. you’re safe with me. give me a chance.” he spoke slowly and genuinely which made you feel a little better about the situation.

“can i think about this?” you asked him, forcing out a smile.

he nodded and headed for the door. “alright just let me know. and please don’t keep me waiting.”

after he left, you pondered on the thought of you and taehyung dating. it’s what you both wanted but you weren’t sure about how people would take it.

it could ruin his career, his and your life, and mess up the close relationship that you two have with eachother.

you had so many what if’s. “i need to stop worrying.” you said to yourself.

after an additional green minutes, you rose to your feet and let out a deep breath. it was time to give taehyung your answer.


once you got to the living area, 7 pairs of eyes were on you which made you nervous but you thought that it would be best to just tell him in front of the boys so that they could know.

“what’s up y/n?” namjoon greeted you, breaking the silence. everyone except for taehyung who looked nervous followed.

after you greeted each other for the fiftieth time, you turned your attention to taehyung. “tae.”

“yes y/n?” he sat up, preparing himself for what he was about to hear. he hoped that it was your answer.

there was no holding back now. everyone had their eyes on you and was expecting you to say something.


“yeah!” he shouted and ran over to you. he kissed you and hugged you tightly. letting go or breaking away wasn’t in his plans.

“okay let me go.” you laughed.

“no.” taehyung responded with a tighter squeeze.

“well damn.” yoongi mumbled, eyeing the both of you with a small and bitter smirk growing on his face.

“what’s this?!” jin asked in complete shock.

taehyung finally let you go and took your hand in his. “she finally said yes. we’re finally dating.”

“oh young love…” hoseok sighed and acted like the dramatic person he was.

“i’m happy for you hyung. y/n was playing hard to get but you didn’t back down. notes taken.” jungkook said to taehyung.

“iu doesn’t want you, you can give up on that one.” yoongi said to jungkook.

“shots fired!” jimin bursted out into laughter, literally falling onto hoseok.

“okay but who is y/n with? not you. go cry in your room.” kookie said to yoongi.

in a matter of seconds the room was filled of nothing but laughter. taehyung was the only one that didn’t participate in the ‘roast session’ that the rest of the boys were in. he was too busy staring at you.

“how about we go out? to a cafe?” he whispered in your ear which heated up your body. his voice was deep and seductive in a way. you knew that from here out he was gonna drive you even more crazy then he did when you were just friends.

“y-yep let’s go.” you couldn’t even talk straight. as you walked to the door to put on your shoes, you were hit. on your butt.

“tae!” you shouted, and hit him ; basically his shoulder.

“get used to it princess.” he pecked your cheek and dangled his car keys before walking past you and out the door.

“oooh!” the boys said in unison.

“shut up.” you laughed and followed behind tae.


you and taehyung went to a ring making cafe ; you both made matching rings for each other. it was cute af. di end. 

Shance Fluff Week: Last Day

(Hope everyone has had a good evening! I was hoping to be able to do more of that witch and familiar au for the last, free day of Shance Fluff Week, but alas, I need all my focus for that one, and I do not have that at the moment. So instead, some cute a/b/o stuff as requested by my dear @trollsofthezodiac !)

As mated pairs go, Shiro and Lance could usually keep their PDA to a minimum. They shared kisses on the cheek for good luck before running off into battle, short nuzzles of affection in the morning, some cuddling when everyone was relaxing and it wasn’t terribly inappropriate. They could respect the need of their fellow paladins not to be watching them make doe-eyes at each other every five seconds. That is, most of the time.

“Sorry, I’m a little confused,” Allura says. “What is a ‘loverush’?”

“Sort of like a rut, or a heat, in the sense that they can’t really help the effects,” Pidge explains, looking thoroughly disinterested in her meal, thanks to the happily nuzzling and purring couple seated nearby. “Except a loverush is all about affection.”

Allura gives her own unsettled look to Shiro and Lance. Lance is seated in Shiro’s lap, contentedly purring and nuzzling into Shiro’s neck. Shiro holds him close, planting kisses on Lance’s cheeks, forehead, and lips whenever he feels so inclined. This has been going on all morning, and shows no signs of stopping.

“I think I see what you mean,” Allura responds at last.

“We may as well give them some privacy,” Keith suggests. “No telling when a loverush is going to end, so best to just let them get it out of their system. Far away from us.”

“Yeah, good idea,” Hunk agrees. “I’m…gonna go see if Yellow needs any repairs.”

“Right behind you,” Pidge says. She gets up after Hunk, then is followed by Keith, then Allura, then Coran. One by one, they all filter out of dining room, allowing the happy couple some time to deal with their loverush.

Neither Lance nor Shiro seem to notice a thing.

anonymous asked:

What about sidgeno where geno always gets injured or is in accidents and sid is the concerned paramedic/doctor that somehow is always around to treat him? Thanks !!

ask and ye shall receive! i loved this one. <3 written in celebration of the pens’ victory tonight, and crossposted on ao3 here!

Zhenya liked to think he wasn’t accident prone, but, his luck for the past several months seemed to be proving him wrong.

Or, he thought as he stared up at the paramedic who was fussing over him, he might just be the luckiest guy in the world.

Keep reading

I’m love Red Leader but I want more content of him doing things that old Tord would do, like just

Reading hentai in his office even when someone else is in there talking to him

Putting his feet on his desk and just giving someone a blank look when someone tells him that it’s unsanitary

Pulling guns out of nowhere and using them in situations where it’s really not necessary (like in “Spares”)

Y'know just Tord not caring whatsoever about social standards and doing whatever he wants because he can

22 May 2017

[Robert’s Car, idling in front of the Emmerdale sign, before the episode begins]

AARON: We’re here now Robert, if we don’t go in soon we’re gonna miss our cue.

ROBERT: Maybe if we do, we can throw them off their game and fix this story ourselves.

AARON: Robert!

ROBERT: I just really don’t want to tell you about the Plot Aaron! I mean, I do, because I’ve had at least some character growth and I want to be the one to tell you even though they think I need multiple people putting pressure on me to get me to do it. I swear though Aaron, I wanted to tell you a long time ago but I wasn’t allowed to. I hope you remember that when the moment finally comes.

AARON: I’ll do my best. Hey cheer up though, we’ve got a new house to move into! I’ve seen the pictures. It looks great! Totally digging the triceratops on the shelves above the telly by the way.

ROBERT: Well, I know how much you love fossils and I used to have a Jurassic Park poster in my room when I was a kid. Though I think now, maybe I was more into Jeff Goldblum than the dinosaurs, but yeah, dinosaurs are awesome!

AARON: I didn’t see any toasters in the pictures though. You did remember to buy one right? I mean, I don’t think Charity would like it if I nicked the one from the pub. But I’ll do it if I have to.

ROBERT: I think your life of crime and the Plot’s need to punish you for it has done enough damage to our storyline. Don’t worry, I remembered to buy a toaster.

Keep reading

Suicide Note

Dear anyone who is reading this,

I’ve….been contemplating this one for a good while now. I beganwriting this at 8:30 pm on February 11th, 2015.

I should probably introduce myself for anyone who doesn’t knowme. My name is Zander Nicholas Mahaffey (at birth, Sandra Nicole.) I am a boy, even if the word doesn’t see me as one. But I know in my heart I am a boy. I’m 15 years old, I love the internet, I’m an anime weeb, I love video games too. I dislike math a lot, I love to read and draw and sing. My favorite drink is Coca Cola and my favorite foods are crème puffs. I’m short (5'2) and I hate that. My favorite anime is Katekyo Hitman Reborn! And my favorite video game is The World Ends With You. I live in the state of Georgia, in a metro-Atlanta city called Austell. Right next to a hospital. The phone reception is terrible here. I’m a panromantic-asexual and yeah I think that’s an okay introduction.

I don’t know why I’m writing this now, it just feels like a good time. I’ve kept holding off from doing this since it’s probably gonna be long. It’s surreal right? And if I publish this (or don’t delete it from my queue, I should say) then that means I’m dead. Most likely medication overdose, that’s the main way I’ve thought of. Ugh. Xanax tastes so disgusting, honestly. But you know, when everything is calm and you want to be dead I guess taste doesn’t really matter. Man it is going to suck ass if I end up surviving. I would have had to taste all that nasty ass medicine for nothing. Either way I guess I should write why I wanted to be dead in the first place.

I..I just wanted to escape. An okay amount of my friends know I have issues with my mother, at least heard me complain about her a good bit of times. A few know what really is going on.

My mother is physically disabled. She has seizures and strokes and a hurt ankle and a bad knee and she is morbidly obese, the list goes on. She has anxiety. In fact she takes xanax for the anxiety. That’s where I got it from. I’m sure she can just get more.

But even with her disabilities….she hurts me. Not physically, no she doesn’t have the capability to do that. But emotionally and mentally. I try, I try so hard sometimes. I’m not a perfect human, okk??? I MAKE MISTAKES. A lot of mistakes. And I get yelled at. I get yelled at and it hurts so bad. It hurts so bad for your “mom” to tell you she’s going to kill herself over her cheating ex boyfriend. It hurts so much for her to accuse you of doing sexual things to people for money. It hurts so much for her to accuse you of stealing money from her, only to find out she had just misplaced it and doesn’t even apologize. It hurts so much to have a panic attack and her say “stop acting retarded”. It hurts so much for her to mention the man that raped you, even though she knows it makes you angry and sad. It hurts so much for her to yell at you till you cry, for you to be sobbing, tears pouring down your face, and then ask you why are you crying. MAYBE YOU SHOULD STOP FUCKING YELLING AT ME, THEN.

It hurts so much to hate your mother. It hurts so much for your mother to act so two faced. It hurts for you to actually have a nice time, to talk and smile and laugh together, and then it all does back to hell, and the illusion shatters, and you remember about all the horrible things she still does. It hurts to not know what it’s like to have a “mommy”, to know what a mothers love is, to feel cared for by a maternal figure.

To my mother, one of us was gonna die and I guess it is gonna be me. I hope you’re life from here on is MISERABLE. I hope you realize how MUCH YOU NEEDED ME AND TREATED ME LIKE GARBAGE.  I want you to BEG FOR ME TO COME BACK, FOR MY FORGIVENESS. But I won’t. I want you dead. I wanted you to DIE FOR SO LONG, DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I HATED THAT?? WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO ME, YOU ARE MY MOM!! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO LOVE ME AND MAKE ME FEEL BETTER, NOT MAKE ME KILL MYSELF!!!!!! You’re a two faced pathetic excuse for a parent. You may be my mother but you are not my mom. I certainly won’t miss you. Goodbye forever, you abusive piece of shit.

I guess that’s why I love my friends so much. To anyone who has been motherly to me, or dubbed themselves “my mom”. That means so much. Because I don’t know what that is like.

But I miss her. I miss my mommy. I miss the woman in the baby photographs I see of me and her together. It sounds selfish. I miss the mommy who starved herself for almost 2 weeks because we were so poor she didn’t have enough money for us to both eat. I miss her. I don’t know what happened. Or where that lady went. But I’ve just prayed, and prayed for her to come back and she never did. I just wanted my momma back.

I can’t blame all of my problems on her. A good bit of my anger and resentment comes from my rapist. Some of it comes from my “aunt” Twalia. She isn’t really my aunt but her and my mother are good friends and her and her two kids live with us. Twalia helps me with my mother and with our apartment, and for that I am thankful for.

But what I am not thankful for is her poor treatment of everyone in this household. Twalia also yells. It isn’t as bad as my mother, no only my mother can make me feel the worse but Twalia has come pretty close. She’s about as two faced as my mother. She makes horrible racist comments about the black people who live in my apartment complex. She is ableist, she calls her two mentally disabled children, Jennifer (19) and Charles (12) retarded, threatens to put them on medication. It’s terrible.

She has never laid a hand on me before. She better be glad she didn’t. I would love for an excuse to knock the rest of her teeth out. She is abusive to her children and me, and I wish she never came to live with us..

And her children, oh god her kids. They are possibly the most annoying brats on the face of the planet and I cannot stand them. Charles especially. I wish we never introduced him to the internet, he used to be such a good kid but not anymore. He’s an arrogant, homophobic, spoiled little brat who I wanna kick into a wall. Yeah, I would kick a 12 year old into a wall? Problematic? Maybe. I don’t give a damn. Besides, if you’re reading this I’M ALREADY DEAD WHAT USE IS IT. I get mad and he pisses me off. As for Jen well… she’s just annoying. But she get’s the short end of the stick between her and her brother and I try to stand up for her as much as I see fit (even though she doesn’t appreciate it. Or she’s never seemed like it.) Twalia, fuck you. You’re as a terrible a mother as my own and you don’t deserve the children you have. Jen, I don’t know what to say, you’re annoying as hell to me but I’ll probably miss you a bit. Charles, fuck off you little shithead. I can’t stand you and I hope you get put in your place one day.

That’s another thing, appreciation. Sure my mother will say “please” and “thank you” every once in a while but it isn’t enough. It isn’t. She would literally DIE without me. She wouldn’t be able to function without people taking care of her. But is she thankful??? Is she thankful that I have given up my childhood for her??? That I had to take on all these responsibilities??? She doesn’t seem like it. “Oh, when I was your age, I was running an entire household” Great mom. That’s you. That isn’t me.  The only one who ever seems to appreciate me is my grandmother.

Out of my entire family I love her the most. She’s a kick-ass grandma for one thing, she’s survived breast cancer (even though she lost one of her breasts..) for what? 22 years? She don’t take no shit from anybody. When I hug her, the combination of her laundry detergent and the perfume she wears makes me so happy, I love hugging her and smelling her (she smells good ok?). And she loves Harry Potter. That’s freaking A+. I’m going to miss her a lot. Meme, if you’re reading this, I love you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry I couldn’t fight this one out, but I love you and always will.

Other family okay….My dad. I love him…he’s…a bit annoying sometimes..He is also kind of an airhead, but he’s my dad. The amount of time’s I’ve wished I could live with him instead of my mom is plenty. Dad, I’m sorry but your “little girl” isn’t a little girl. I’m a boy, in my heart. And no, that doesn’t mean I want to play football. Also ask mother about John Hubbard. The truth about what he did to me. My mother never told him, or my Pepaw (grandad), or my Memaw (other grandmother). I don’t think that was right. He’s my dad, he has a right to know. Oh and for Memaw and Pepaw, I’m sorry that it turned out this way, I love you both. (Even though you, Pepaw are a racist, bigoted piece of shit and Memaw?? You didn’t really help much, sorry.) I’ll miss you guys too.

To my older half sister, Ashley, and Matthew as well. I’m sorry. Ashley, this may come as a shock to you, but our mother is a terrible person, to me at least. Be thankful she gave you up, be thankful you grew up loved and cared for. It’s a shame really. How much I envied you and despised you because you were able to escape life with our mother. I hated you, I hated that you got to have a nice, happy life with your adopted parents while I had to stay here and suffer. But I know that it was a dumb hatred, I see that now, I can’t blame you for being adopted. That just isn’t fair. I’m sorry I was wrong about you. I love you, and I’ll miss you.

To my brother, CJ. I can only hope I’m going to meet you. I was wrong about you as well. I resented you. I hated it, I felt abandoned by you. I felt like my big brother just left me to suffer with our mother. But you were a baby, you couldn’t stop from rolling on your side and suffocating in your crib. You had no control. I’m sorry, I love you, and I hope we can meet for the first time.

To Alyssa. Alyssa Handy. I have no idea where you are now, I haven’t seen you in 5 years. You probably will never get this message, but I couldn’t go on without thanking you. In 5th grade, when I was wheelchair bound, you were always there for me. You pushed me around, ate lunch with me, helped me to the bathroom, and best of all, you didn’t change how you acted towards me once I was in the wheelchair. You never pitied me (not to my knowledge) and you were my first real best friend I ever had. I know we had our scuffles but I will never forget everything you did for me, ever. I still think about your kindness even now. I’ll miss you.

To Ziazani, who I don’t even know if you’re going to get this message or not. You were the first person I ever dated. I’m sorry I stopped talking to you after we broke up, I would feel guilty every time that I did. I was a terrible significant other, and I’m sorry I could never reciprocate your feelings for me. I know this may not fix it, but I’m sorry. I’ll miss you.

To Hector/King/Viridi, my first true crush (that I got to date anyway). Being in boyfriends with you made me so happy. I finally felt what it was to be on cloud nine. When you broke up with me, it hurt so bad. I know I shrugged it off, but I cried all that night and the night after that and the night after that and was sad for a good week. Then you started dating someone else and I resented you for that, because I still had feelings for you and I was bitter and angry to see you happy with someone who wasn’t me. But I finally realized it was just childish, and I needed to let you go, and I forgave. There’s no use in being bitter and angry. So I’m glad, I’m glad that we could stay friends, you are a really good friend. I loved you, and I still care about you a lot even now, and I’ll miss you.

To Aggie, the my current girlfriend and love of my life. I love you. I will never stop loving you. You make me so happy, so please don’t be too sad for long, sadness won’t bring me back and there’s no point anymore. I’m sorry, please don’t feel inadequate. Don’t feel like you failed me, you couldn’t “cure” me, you didn’t have the power to get me out of this house. You did make me laugh, and I felt like I had a reason to live. But I’m weak, I’m battered and bruised and I’m tired of fighting. It’s not your fault, I never really told you what was going on (not because I didn’t trust you) but because I didn’t feel like I was worth worrying over. I’m sorry Aggie, I love you, and if all goes well, I’ll watch over you and be your guardian angel. Guess we are really Narancia and Fugo, eh? I’ll miss you, so much.

To my home girl Gabbi and home girl Katie. My best friends. My aromates, moirails, platonic soul mates, whatever you want. I love you two so much you don’t understand. I could sit here and write about how much I love you but that would take too long and my fingers are getting tired from typing this. Don’t feel like failures because of this. I was in the wrong. You both told me everything, but I would hide and wear a mask and pretend I was ok. I had to be strong for you both. But I can’t be strong anymore. I can’t. I’m too worn out, if anyone if the failure, it’s me. I know we had plans to all live together and be happy and away from our families. But I just couldn’t do that. I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry I never told you guys how I really felt. I’m so sorry. I love you two both till the world ends, and I’m not going to stop. I love you till time ends. I will miss you both so much.

I want to ask of you both (especially you, Gabby) is to make sure if there are any memorials for me I want you both to make sure my right name and pronouns are used. And I want you both to explain exactly why I killed myself. What my mother did, and I want her retribution. I want her to know she murdered her son. I want her to know that she is the reason I’m dead.

To all my friends on the internet, my Dangan Ronpa buddies, Lena, Hime (Love), Saku, Wednesday, Kari, Peeps, Nick, Cake, Toree, Bunni, Taelyn, I could never ask for better voice acting friends, I’ll miss you. My MMD/Vocaloid crew, Haru, Jomo, Walter, Taku, Izzy, Angeki, Simone, even though I suck at modeling you guys always made my day. To Ari, I’ve known you for a long time, since I started being on the internet. You mean so much to me, I’m sorry, I’ll miss you. To the (late, kinda) Meme Team, Zumi, Summer, Mitch, Morgan (formerly), Pixel, Rachel, Alex, Sam, Shae, Luke and Everyone else in the pedal group, being with you guys made my days so happy. I’m so sorry, I’ll miss you all.

To all my real life friends, To Jacob and Bella and Chris and Gus and Shelly and everyone else. To my teachers, to everyone. I’ll miss you.

Wow, five pages long. Almost 3,000 words. See I told you this would get long. I’ve never written anything for school that fast. Oh well. I suppose someone has read all this. I don’t know what to say now really. But…I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough, that I gave up. But I just couldn’t, I couldn’t take it anymore. I am a hypocrite, I’ve talked many of people out of suicide before but yet here I am. Or, here I was.

I’m not noble, I’m not really trying to make this mean something huge. I’m just a coward who wanted to cut my strings and be free from my troubles. Here marks the end of Zander, a meme enthusiast and, friend? I guess.

I can’t say I’m not a little bit afraid of dying, but we all are. It’s the fear of the unknown. Perhaps there is another world waiting for me, perhaps I will be reborn into something, or maybe I’ll just stop existing. Maybe I would be a ghost that would be cool don’t you think? I have no clue, like with everything else in my life I’ll just wing it.

So this is the end? I’m over 3,000 words now. Time will go on, hopefully no one will be too bothered from me for too long. Just continue as you normally would be, that is what I want.

I’m selfish, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry that I only think about myself in this situation. I know there’s going to be people hurt and devastated by this. And I’m so, so, sorry about that. I don’t know what else to say. I’m just so tired, I’m so tired and I just want to go to sleep.

XOXO Goodbye to everyone,

Zander Nicholas Mahaffey

Enneagram 5

For the love of all things good in life (for a 5) if we are frustrated about something please please PLEASE do not help us with something. Chances are we will probably snap at you depending on how upset we are. We probably don’t want your help even in general unless we ask for it. So if we don’t ask for it and you forcibly give it to us while we are upset. Yeah…it’s probably not going to end well for you sorry about that. Also I’m like 10000% I’m a five now just fyi lol 😂.

LOL, this season is so ridiculous. I’m starting to think that next week’s scene will either a) be cut like the premiere scenes or b) be them having a few seconds interaction about a patient. Shonda probably thinks that since she gave us 13x16 she’s good on the Japril front for like 2 more seasons.

Jokes on her though since there won’t be anybody left to watch the show.***

My patience is almost up with Grey’s. I’m gonna give it to the end of this season but if there isn’t hope in the horizon for Japril I just can’t see myself watching next season. It would be different if this season had actually been entertaining but it wasn’t. I’m a loyal fan and I watch live as often as I can, but Grey’s hasn’t been loyal to me this season. Yeah, there have been some good moments and good episodes but overall they’ve insulted fans with their horrendous story stretching. I don’t expect every episode to be the Japril show, but I feel like after the events that happened in 13x16 we needed some resolution, a couple of minutes of screen time to let us know their status. At this point, what is it? months afterward, it’ll just be weird. They should’ve had a discussion 2-3 episodes after 13x16. Japril fans aren’t the only ones this has happened to and I think that’s largely why there’s such a dip in the ratings.

Never say never, but I just don’t see myself watching season 14 next year. If a TV show leaves you bored AND frustrated, what’s the point in continuing to watch? I’ll keep my ear to the ground next year just in case things perk up but I’m not holding my breath.

***Not scientifically proven 


since everyone liked the post so much, have some sisterly angst.

Fandom: RWBY
Characters: Yang Xiao Long, Ruby Rose
Words: 1039
Description: Yang wants to go find Raven now that she’s met up with Ruby in Mistral, but Ruby doesn’t want her to go.

“She’s nearby.” Yang says as she paces back and forth in the Mistral hotel. “I can finally find her. Finally ask her why.”

“Yang…” Ruby says as she sits on the bed.

“It’s been years, Ruby. I’ve searched for so long. Now, now I can finally get it over with.”

“Yang.” Ruby says again, “Yang, don’t do it.”

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Oath | Ch.14 | Jungkook

Genre: Angst | Mafia!AU

Members: Jungkook | You/Reader | Yoongi | Taehyung | Namjoon | Hoseok | Jin | Jimin |

Summary: What if one day everything you ever wanted is taken away and your whole world comes crushing down? If you were to forget today, who would you be tomorrow?

Originally posted by kookieluvcookies

| Previous Chapter | Chapter List | Next Chapter |

Word count: 2629

Warning: Smut ahead!

After hearing your answer, Taehyung went to his room and smashed the door closed, making you jump in surprise at the sound. He was really pissed. No chance of talking to him right now. You stood in front of his room, leaning against the wall. Why were you feeling bad for this? It was not like you did something wrong. He crossed the line, he should be the one in your shoes right now. Maybe he was. You were afraid to knock on the door. You were just emptily staring at your feet while the voices in your head screamed all sorts of things, making several different scenarios of how it could go if you went in.

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