The Next Level - Melbourne

Fanfic: Life Moves Fast, Girl Meets World | FanFiction

Spoilers for Girl Meet goodbye.

Relationship(s): Joshaya, Shawn x Katy
Characters: Maya Hart, Josh Mathews, Shawn Hunter, Katy Hunter, John Turner.
Summary: AU if Riley ended up going to London, causing Maya and Josh to grow close.

Tagging: @girlmeetsthelongame, @justanother-nephilim-wolf, @cabbagemagic, @and-im-mildly-enjoying-it

I wrote the thing!

justanother-nephilim-wolf  asked:

I wish people would stop worrying about the episode watch ratings. Some shows have off days. It's not the end if one episode isn't viewed much. Reviewers said that episode 2 wasn't the best it's not new.

Personally, I considered episode 2 the best yet, but that’s just me. The thing is, that this is a 30% drop. We can hope that it’ll climb back up again, but season or series premieres usually have the best ratings and it’s downhill from there. I get that SH is a weird case, considering that it airs on Netflix worldwide and at least in my country, it’s been trending as #1 and then #2 there, and last year, SH was adding 100% to its viewership in Live+7 (and that’s without digital platforms).

But there’s not worrying - and then there’s sticking head in the sand and then being all shocked when something’s canceled. Cable shows are always special cases - Killjoys is surviving with barely 0.20 demo on SyFy - unlike network shows where you can see the writing on the wall. But I’m one of the people who prefers to be informed rather than oblivious. 


So it’s 2017 and I hit 1k a while back and while I’m over it now, it still makes me SO happy to see how many people actually follow me. And so here are some amazing blogs who will be stuck with me in their activity <3

(A & B)

@alecblushed @aleclightwqqd @aleclightsweed @alinok @anakinskywlkcr @anarchycox @bidaisyjohnson @bobbimorxe @brooke-davis @buckybarrnes

(C & D)

@captainswaan @cinnamonsavior @cinnamon-rogers @claryalec @cllntbrtons @coyotesquad @cptnstevens @cystalreeds @daisyjohnson @dammitdaddario @dadaddario @drakamena

(E & F)

@emma-swan @fytwolf @fyeahaleclightwood

(G & H)

@gabriellabolton @gothdaisyjohnson @halliwellxx @harleyquinzel @harryrshum @hawkeyesnest @hellogoodbye741

(I & J)

@imaginesciles @isaacllahey @isakvalteresn @jacealec @jemsdrug @justanother-nephilim-wolf

(K & L)

@kara-danvers @karadnvrs @little-miss-gambit @liqhtvood @liiightwoods @ligthswoods

(M & N)

@malecsbiscuit @maliasfur @matt-daddaryo @mattlightwood @matthew-daddarioo @nephilimdaily

(O & P)

@obsessedx @parabrotaii @philipwaldenshea @petereparker @philipwaldenshea @prettyboyalec @procharmingfamily

(Q & R)

@queeniesgoldstein @quincyfisher @renegadeshadowhunters @rickscosnett @rnalec

(S & T)

@savingraphaelsantiago @samjess @sciencebiaatch @scottymccall @scileslife @shelleyhenign @soldieronbarnes @sokohvia @stephen-amell @stevensam @swanshope

(U - Z)

@ughbloodybellamy @voldemxrt @wanda-mcximoff @wandamsximoff @wandasmximoff @wanximoff @warriorswan

So HERE is my blogroll and I follow a ton of amazing people, so go check it out! :) 


A year from now, you’ll be nothing more than just
another ghost of the slowly slipping past. And even
though I’ll have nothing to remember you by, I know
somehow—everything will remind me of you.

There’ll be no old phone conversations to go through at night
since you have never really been one for texting,
and there’ll be no old pictures to keep in my wallet
since we have never really been one for the cameras, either.

Like a ghost, there’ll be no traces of you ever being here. But
will never forget the feeling of your hand gently squeezing mine,
or the soft weight of your chin resting snugly atop my head, or
the thoughtfulness of your knee brushing mine beneath the table.

Like a ghost, I know you’ll continue to hunt me. Even as I feel the
lights of a completely different city burn bright against my eyelids,
still, I’ll see the faint silver moonlight and the warm suburbian glow
that would illuminate your sharp profile as we made our way home. 

A year from now, as I’ll stand amidst the bustling boulevards,
with all these noises insistently ringing against my ears—as the
anxiety kicks in, and I realize how far away I am from home, I know
the memory of your voice will be the only one that calms me.

And somehow, I’ll be thankful I wasn’t one to fall too quickly.
for had these feelings gotten any deeper, had you been more than
just a friend—maybe, just maybe, it would have been enough to
make me stay. Enough to make me put my dreams on hold for you.



That we might walk out into the woods together,
and afterwards make toast
in our sock feet, still damp from the fern’s
wet grasp, the spiky needles stuck to our
legs, that’s all I wanted, the dog in the mix,
jam sometimes, but not always. But somehow,
I’ve stopped praising you. How the valley
when you first see it—the small roads back
to your youth—is so painfully pretty at first,
then, after a month of black coffee, it’s just
another place your bullish brain exists, bothered
by itself and how hurtful human life can be.
Isn’t that how it is? You wake up some days
full of crow and shine, and then someone
has put engine coolant in the medicine
on another continent and not even crying
helps cure the idea of purposeful poison.
What kind of woman am I? What kind of man?
I’m thinking of the way my stepdad got sober,
how he never told us, just stopped drinking
and sat for a long time in the low folding chair
on the Bermuda grass reading and sometimes
soaking up the sun like he was the story’s only
subject. When he drove me to school, we decided
it would be a good day, if we saw the blue heron
in the algae-covered pond next to the road,
so that if we didn’t see it, I’d be upset. Then,
he began to lie. To tell me he’d seen it when
he hadn’t, or to suppose that it had just
taken off when we rounded the corner in
the gray car that somehow still ran, and I
would lie, too, for him. I’d say I saw it.
Heard the whoosh of wings over us.
That’s the real truth. What we told each other
to help us through the day: the great blue heron
was there, even when the pond dried up,
or froze over; it was there because it had to be.
Just now, I felt like I wanted to be alone
for a long time, in a folding chair on the lawn
with all my private agonies, but then I saw you
and the way you’re hunching over your work
like a puzzle, and I think even if I fail at everything,
I still want to point out the heron like I was taught,
still want to slow the car down to see the thing
that makes it all better, the invisible gift,
what we see when we stare long enough into nothing.


honestly i haven’t been this hyped for the next episode of star vs since i first started to develop the whole trans marco theory just

another fucking princess marco episode next week


Just Another x Revolver x Taylor White