steal from the worst

Like I screamed at that cinema worker (and later the judge at my trial for disturbing the peace): Despicable Me is blatantly false advertising. It teaches you no real-life ways of stealing the Moon, which totally ruined my business plan. And you might be asking: Why would I watch Despicable Me for Moon-nabbing strategies? Also: Why would I want the Moon in the first place? In order: 1) The movie’s Polish title is How To Steal The Moon so I’m clearly in the right on this one. 2) Two words: Lunar Porn, motherfuckers. Not only would I corner the market, the movie titles basically write themselves: Houston, We Have A Boner, Apollo 11 Inches, One Giant Lick For Mankind, etc.

But even though the entire movie revolves around Gru, a supervillain voiced by Steve Carell, trying to steal the Moon, it doesn’t really go into the specifics of such an operation. All it says is: Steal a shrink ray (from where?!), fly to the Moon (how?!) 

Worst of all, the whole thing irresponsibly glosses over the dangers of having the shrunken Moon in Earth’s atmosphere, and it suddenly going back to its original size, exactly like in the movie finale. But where Despicable Me has failed, science stepped in to address that question, and the answer they came up with is: “Oh God, oh Jesus Almighty, they’re all dead! My whole family … so many bodies!”

5 Mass Deaths You Never Noticed Happened In Cartoons

amor proibido iii

Special thanks to @mercyonmendes for writing the Shawn blurb!

Get me out of my mind and get you out of those clothes - Fall Out Boy

Deep breath. I can do this. I have done nothing wrong at this point. Everything is good. My life is absolutely fucking amazing.

I can have this conversation with the man I am going to be marrying and not let on some kid tried to kiss me. Okay, he is not just some kid now…but whatever. I have a fiance and I love him. End of story.

I sit down on the edge of the bed, running a hand over my face and listening to Landon go on and on about his day. He is telling me about how hard his job is working at his dad’s company where he pretty much does nothing all day and how shitty his night was because he had to come home alone to an empty house because of my fucking job stealing me away from the worst time. Yet again, it is another ten minutes of listening to him talk only about himself and not even ask me about everything major. Even though he knows how much of a big deal this article is, Landon will always be more important than me. 

“Listen…” I say, trying to let on how much stress I am under from this shit show of my life. “I will call you tomorrow because I am exhausted. I just want to crawl into bed and fall asleep.”

Landon says, “I don’t like having to sleep when you aren’t next to me. What am I supposed to do when I want someone to make my dick hard?”

I think he thinks it is sexy, but I just find it annoying. I would never let on so I say, “Just know I am thinking of you, babe.” It is partially true. “I will be home in a few days and we can more than make up for any lost time, okay?”

“I love you, talk to you soon, sweetheart.”

“You too,” I reply, ending the call and lying back.

There is now a special place in hell for me. 

My phone chirps with a text early the next morning Concert day.

It is from an unknown number, but it must be someone related to this whole debacle because otherwise I am going to think there is someone stalking me. And trust me, I am not worth anyone’s time at all. In fact, I am a rather shitty person. Last night was the perfect case in point. 

I could just ignore the text because I have a lot of work to do in starting my article. I am going to be spending most of my day writing and planning because I have to attend this concert tonight as well. I have to write about the concert and still do one more interview with him tomorrow. Then I will be able to go home the day after and act like he never kissed me. It was just a stupid kiss, and I pushed him away. It means nothing at all. 

Who is this? I type back, sitting up in bed and debating about whether or not I want to make the trip down to have some kind of food or just have it delivered. I mean, work is going to pay for it but I don’t even know what I would choose.

A picture of a sleepy eyed Shawn appears on my screen, his hair askew and his lids half closed. 

Holy fuck. 

What the fuck is this kid doing? He has no reason to be texting me. I could ask how he got my number, but I am sure he has his ways since he is fucking famous. Also, why am I like half turned on by a photo of him lying in bed? There is something very wrong with me, and I am going to be atoning for these thoughts for a very long time.

I throw my phone down, deciding to take a shower and get dressed. Maybe he will get the hint if I don’t say anything. He is trying to get under my skin, but I need him to be as distant as possible. I have a fiance, and I have a life. This is going to be good for me as long as I don’t mess it up, but Shawn is making it so fucking hard.

Returning to my phone, I see two messages.

You don’t seem pleased to know I have your number.

I am not going to apologize for kissing you.

Fuck my life.

This is my fucking job, and I don’t have time for some fucking kid to think it is okay to mess with me as a joke. I am not interested in you. Please stop.

Oh, my god. I am such a fucking liar.

I bet you look beautiful in the morning.

FUCK. He is trying to be sweet. Okay, deep breath. He is just full shit and trying to get you to sleep with him. There is nothing genuine about his words, right?

You are so full of shit. No wonder your eyes are so brown.

So you noticed my eyes? Yours are gorgeous. You are gorgeous. I’ll see you tonight at the concert, yeah?

Go fuck yourself. It’s my job. That’s all. 

I want to fuck you. Tonight.

Holy shit. What the fuck is my life even?


Sitting on the edge of the bed in my hotel room, I mindlessly strummed my guitar as I gazed out at the city and wallowed in my own frustration. I wasn’t even sure why I was frustrated. 

Her evident frustration was justified: I was an arrogant, irritating little prick to her. I also wasn’t sure why I did that either. It had been such a habit to crank up the sexually heated charm that it had now become second nature to me whether I wanted it to or not. But hey, I am still essentially a teenage guy. This was normal, right? 

 A heavy sigh escaped my lungs and I ran a hand through my hair, tugging at the ends in confusion. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t focus my mind on anything but her. Meeting attractive girls every day was a job requirement so obviously I was struck by some of them. Again, reiterating the hormonal teen part. But she was different. Could it be because she was an older woman? I did have a thing for that. God, do I have mommy issues? Is that even a thing? I cut off my own incessant rambling thoughts with a loud groan which prompted Geoff to bang on the adjoining wall and mutter something crude. Ignoring him, I loudly strummed the opening chords for Roses that I had just written down and released my pent up disgruntlement in the only way I knew how. I sang.

The concert is insane. The crowd is enormous, and Shawn seems more than ready. Looking from backstage, I can see the people waiting for the show to begin. It must be one of most exhilarating sensations in the world to be able to perform in front of so many. It reminds of how one day I would love for to be a writer everyone is reading. This is my first step there. A good beginning. There is the chaos of setting up the show and everyone making sure everything is perfect. Trying to stay out of the way, I roam back to Shawn’s dressing room.

Instead of finding his normal posse, he is just sitting there alone with his guitar. He looks otherworldly, just strumming softly and singing the words in his head. It has to be one of the most attractive things I have ever seen in a man. Not that he is a man… he is just a boy and…

“Can I ask you a few more questions before the shows starts, Shawn?” I ask, stepping towards him and breaking his concentration.

He looks up at me with a smile, placing the guitar down beside him. “Sure, why not,” he says.

I hesitantly sit down at a chair somewhat far away from him and tap my fingers on my knee. I don’t know why I wore this black dress because it’s way too short and too tight around my breasts. Then again, Landon was always telling me not to wear it so maybe this is my subtle fuck you to him. I know I look amazing. He just wants to fucking control me. 

“Do you have a favorite concert venue?” I ask, inwardly groaning at my shitty questions. Shawn is making me flustered to the point where I can’t even do my job properly. What I need is to have a few drinks during the concert so I can calm down and just forget about all of this weird tension we have going on. He has to know he is making me crazy. It is like he is doing it on purpose, trying to fuck with me and get me to notice him.

“I can’t hear you,” he says, leaning forward. His hair is perfectly done in messy perfection and he is wearing a charcoal button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up and black skinny jeans, his shoes are brand new all black Chucks. He looks fucking amazing. Not that I would tell him. And I probably should not be noticing?!

“You can hear me just fine,” I say and cross my arms over my chest, trying to cover my cleavage. However, it seems to make them more perky. Fuck. “Just answer my questions so you can play your damn show and this can all just be over for us, okay?”

Shawn raises an eyebrow. “Why do you hate me so much?”

“I don’t hate you, I just…”

“You just what?” he echoes, searching for answer I don’t fucking have.

This was just supposed to be a career maker. Not suddenly make me fucking confused about my entire life. He is a fucking teenager. I am a grown woman. He probably is reminded of his mom when he looks at me, there is no way he could be attracted to me. This is just a job I need to do so I can return to my life. My life where I have a fiance and a house and a job and all of these adult things. I am not someone who plays music all over the world and has this amazing, fun life all the fucking time. 

“Nothing.” I pause. “I don’t hate you. I don’t feel anything for you.” Lies. “This is just my job, and I want to do it well. This article is important to the both of us. You want to look good, and I am hoping this is going to help me be able to write more important stories.”

“You don’t look happy when you talk about your job,” Shawn says off handedly, like he can just see into my soul no big deal at all. “I don’t see the passion you are supposed to have. I am sure you have a passion for writing, but what do you really want?”

I don’t remember the last time anyone has asked what I wanted. It catches me off guard. “What.. what do you mean?”

“What do you want?” Shawn repeats, getting up and walking over to me. He looks down at me, waiting.

Without another word, I rise and look at him. “I want to be happy.”

“I am going on stage soon,” he whispers against my neck, tracing his lips along the curve and stopping right below my ear. His hands are moving lower than my waist now, lazily venturing towards his favorite place.

I try not to shiver at the sensation of his breath against my skin, but I feel those chills up and down my spine. He knows it too because there is a smirk on his face as he slowly slips his hand up my thigh, moving beneath my dress and locks his eyes with mine as though daring me to protest. I can already feel the moisture building between my legs and he hasn’t even touched me yet.

Gnawing my cheek to keep from alerting him about the status of my aching core, I just nod at him and keep my eyes on his. 

His hazel eyes bore into mine, anticipating something will happen soon. His lips ghost kisses beneath my ear before he delicately kisses the shell of my ear and whispers, “I am going to make sure you remember me while I am on stage.”

I just nod my head and arch my hips up to his hand, not quite sure how else I am supposed to behave while he seems to have rendered me speechless with just his touch and a few words strung together. It shows how well he can get beneath my skin, but it makes me wonder what he has in mind for me.

His hand slides down to my hip and he grips it tightly as he tilts my head so my lips are pressed against his, his kisses are deep and meaningful. He nibbles on my bottom lip eagerly, chuckling at his deviancy for a moment before I find myself completely melting into his advances.

I try to reach my hand out and slide it up his thigh, but he bats me away, stating, “I am in charge right now, and we are going to do what I say. Hands to yourself or else.”

It is hard for me to listen to him when there is this part of me that craves so badly to make him want me the way I tend to want him. I know he is turned on right now by the apparent bulge in his shorts. I want to run my hand up his leg and tease him, to feel his length in my hand and know I am the one who is able to make him so fucking hard. I want to do that more than anything else, but he cuts me off from that. Shawn has set up the parameters I am supposed to follow, but I am curious to know what could happen if I dare to break them. His fingers resume their journey, two of them pressing against the fabric of my lacy panties. He runs them over my clit, raising his eyebrow at me. Shawn adroit fingers skim over the damp area, and he tells me, “I made you so fucking wet, and I have barely even touched you.”

It is not something I want to admit out loud to him, but I adore the way he just tells me exactly how it is. The words coming from his mouth are so attractive and make me even wetter for him.

His thumb rubs my clit lazily, not trying to rush what he is planning. My hips buck up to meet his touch, and I still long to make him seem so desperate the way I am. Instead he gets to be all calm and collected while I am a total mess, which I do not think is very fair at all. “Shawn..I..” My hand stretches out to cup his erection, ready to alleviate the tension building between us.

He pauses for a moment, his eyes darkening as he stares down at my hand touching him. Shawn stops his motions, leaving me desperate for the finish. I can feel myself slowly getting closer, and he has just denied me the release. I want to grab his hand and force him to continue, or I could do it myself. But I find myself transfixed by his gaze as he takes my hand away and says to me, “And now you are going to have to learn your lesson the hard way. I warned you that you should not touch me. Hands to yourself was rather a simple command…” he sighs. “But now you are going to have to deal with the consequences of your actions.”

I expect him to take his hand away from me and say he is not going to allow me to experience any pleasure at all. It will be cruel, but I would not be surprise I want to kick myself for being so eager to touch him, but I could not help myself.  I fucked everything up. My hips begin to pull away from him, allowing him to pull his hand off. But he doesn’t do that.

Instead, he slides my dress up, sliding my panties off me with one hand, and tosses them on the floor. His index finger slips in between my folds, allowing him to feel more of the moisture he caused to grow from his actions. He moves his finger in and out of me for a moment before bringing it to his lips and gently licking it in front of me. “You taste so good,” he murmurs, “I. Want. More.”

There is no chance to speak before he has grabbed my legs and pulled my entire body towards him; he spreads my legs with his hand and guides my hips to his mouth.

His blue eyes gleam as he looks up at me before slowly taking his tongue and running it along my clit. He grips my thighs tightly, pushing them down onto the bed as he glances up at me with those hazel orbs while never taking his tongue off my wet center.

He takes one of his digits, sliding it inside of me and quickening the pace to match the movement of his tongue. I can feel my hips pressing towards him, small moans falling from my lips as I beg him to keep going. He nibbles my clit gently, using his fingers to probe on with his ministrations.

I can feel myself slowly getting closer to release as his tongue traces circles around my core, his own moans causing me to become even wetter. He removes his finger and brings it up to my mouth, instructing me with his eyes to lick it off for him. I take his finger between my lips and slowly suckle, hoping he is going to allow me to repay him soon.

“You are so beautiful,” Shawn whispers as she takes his finger back, now placing two inside of me. I can feel him going deeper, his knuckles brushing my folds and causing me to gasp at how intense he is causing me to feel. His mouth continues to tease my clit, lapping up the juices eagerly and making me feel as though I am going to completely lose it at any second. His fingers have found my g spot, carefully teasing it and causing me to gasp out his name. He has to know how unfair this is for me; I am feeling as though I am going to lose myself completely and he is just taking his sweet time. His tongue continues to flick at my clit greedily as my hips pump up against him from the combination of both mouth and hand.

“Shawn, please…” I beg, needing the overstimulation to stop. I need to release or I am just going to…

“Oh, so that is what you want, love?” he teases from between my thighs, slowly taking his mouth away from me.

I reach down to place his hand back to its previous position, but he raises his eyebrows at me and just repeats, “I told you twice about hands to yourself and now you don’t get to orgasm for me just yet.”

I stare at him dumbfounded as he takes his hand out of me and sits up for a moment, licking his fingers like a clever cat. His eyes flash with amusement as he sees the frustration furrow my brow, causing me to let out a groan. I close my legs, feeling the wetness dripping down my thighs and it makes me want to strangle him for being such a tease. There is nothing fair about bringing me so close and just stopping, but he seems utterly pleased with himself.

Just then, there is a knock on the door. “Shawn! Showtime!” 

He stands up, quickly wiping his face and looking at me. “Make sure you’re watching from backstage, I am sure you won’t be able to stop thinking of me.” He raises an eyebrow again before he leaves with guitar, leaving me standing there with trembling thighs and no panties on.

Standing stage side to Shawn is one of the best experiences I’ve had in a long time. He is pure talent and he has so much stage presence.  He just shines with the guitar and his voice is beautiful. It is hard to deny he is doing what makes him happy. But it brings up all of the thoughts running through my own mind right now. 

I have a fiance. And we are getting married in a month. Yet, I let Shawn…

Oh, my fucking god. What have I done?! This is the worst thing I have done yet, when everyone find out I am going to lose my job and be labelled a slut. Because Shawn is famous. And a man. he will be forgiven because boys will be boys. But I should know better because I am supposed to be a lady. Fucking double standards. Fuck society.

He has been looking at me all night too. The most intense eye contact in the world. I can feel his eyes on me no matter and that stupid smirk is glued onto his fucking face. I blush every time he looks at me because well… there is no way I am going to think of him as a kid any longer. He is a man who has given me the best head I have ever had. Because Landon thinks it’s only for “sepcial occasions”. Fuck that. Shawn seems like he would ravage the fuck out of me with that mouth all the time, ad I just…. I need to stop because this has already gone too far. He is just a kid, and I have a fiance. Nothing else can happen between us. 

“This song is for a very special person…” Shawn says, once again with the fucking intense eye contact. “It’s called “Roses.” “

And I have to be honest with you baby
Tell me If I’m wrong, and this is crazy
But I got you this rose
And I need to know
Will you let it die or let it grow?
Die or let it go?

Oh. My heart… what is happening? I barely know him. There is no way I am falling for Shawn Mendes. 


Will you let it die or let it grow?

He looks at me as the song finishes, and I realize my heart may slowly finding its way to unexpected happiness.

How the fuck am I going to tell him the truth now?



When you take the mask off (series)



Half Crazy for You (Jefferson x OC) (series)

All the best people are

And I really mean that



A needle and thread (part two of Stitches)

The man out of time

Always (preserum!Steve)

Cyrano (preserum!Steve)

What are queens compared to a goddess? (plussize!reader)

A mighty homecoming (dad!Steve)

Infliction (Dad!Preserum!Steve)

My muse

Just like him (Dad!Steve)

Happy birthday times a million (Steve’s 99th birthday!!!)

How not to treat a lady (Preserum!Steve)


Baby bump (dad!Lance)

Reprimanding the new Rembrandt (dad!Lance)

It’s not the vodka talking

More than just a spark (plussize!reader)


Smokey eye


Half my freedom (part two of Captives)


Cuddle buddy

Love bug (part two of Cuddle buddy)

Sweetheart (part three of Cuddle buddy)

Hot head

China doll (underweight!reader)

Puppy love

Just the way you are (autistic!reader)

Stressed out (dad!Bucky)


The three constellations (dad!Chris)


Tickling Frank out of bed

Lance making it up to you after he treated you badly


Clint x Laura

A first date with prewar!Bucky

Dating prewar!Bucky

Preserum!Steve as a dad

Preserum!Steve comforting you after a hard day

Jefferson taking care of you during a breakdown

Chris Beck’s nurse girlfriend always getting called away at the worst moments

Meeting Jefferson when he tries to steal from your house

Jefferson falling in love with you when you’re Grace’s nanny

Getting day-drunk with Bucky

Tickle fights with Frank Adler

Tickle fights with Steve

Steve discovering you’re ticklish

Frank discovering you’re ticklish

Steve Getting you out of bed

Putting Lance in his place when he tries to womanize you


Til the end of the line  (series)

I forgive you

December 7th 1941

This leather jacket

*NOTE: all titles in bold are either a link to a series masterlist or a chapter in a multi-part fic

(Please tell me if any of the links don’t work so I can fix them ASAP)

Avengers Headcanon-Adopting a Street Urchin

Original request:  Preference for the Avengers taking in a homeless and orphaned kid with a knack for stealing. Like this kid picked their pockets and none of them realized it until AFTER the kid was just disappearing from view….

  • Tony is the kid’s first victim.
    • He’s out walking to get a coffee from his favorite coffee shop after a long day of dealing with the rest of the Avengers. 
    • He doesn’t notice anything is amiss until he reaches in his back pocket to grab his wallet only to find it missing. 
    • And he knows that it didn’t fall out because his pockets are deep and his wallet can’t just fall out. 
    • It doesn’t concern him too badly though. He just cancels all the cards that were in the wallet and keeps an eye on his accounts to make sure no one got the information.
    • He decides not to tell anyone because to him it’s not important. 
  • The next person is Steve. 
    • Generally he doesn’t walk around with anything more than a few emergency dollars. Especially if he’s just on a walk. 
    • The day his money gets swiped he’s running through one of his favorite parks early in the morning. He feels a tug on his pants, but he doesn’t pay attention to it assuming it was just a branch getting caught. 
    • However, when he get’s back to Avenger’s Tower he notices that the twenty dollar bill that he was positive he stuck in one of his pockets is missing. 
    • He assumes it just fell out while he was running, so he doesn’t say anything about it and moves on with his day. 
  • After two easy successes the kid finally chooses the worst person to steal from. 
    • Natasha doesn’t normally walk through New York without a purpose so it’s very dangerous to distract her. 
    • She’s also hyper aware of her surroundings and it’s impossible to pickpocket her. 
    • As soon as the kid starts following her suspiciously close she’s onto the scheme. 
    • The kid has hardly touched the fabric of her pants when she whips around and grabs the kid’s arm. 
    • “Have you been pickpocketing for very long.” She asks in a menacingly calm voice. 
    • The kid very quickly nods, terrified of this woman who still hasn’t let go. 
  • Natasha drags the kid back to the tower and makes them apologize to all of the Avengers whose money mysteriously went missing. 
    • She thinks its a good way of discouraging the kid without being overly threatening. 
    • However, before the kid can even say the first apology they start balling. 
    • Natasha thinks that they’re faking it, but Steve thinks that something else is going on. 
    • While everyone else watches in confusion, Steve kneels down next to the kid and starts asking questions in a quiet voice. 
  • Eventually he finds out that the kid is homeless and learned to pickpocket to survive and buy food. 
    • For some of the Avengers the sight of the kid sobbing so hard they’re dry heaving is enough to convince them that they need to help. Steve, Bruce, Bucky, and Thor all think that they should try and help the kid.
    • The others are less convinced immediately and it takes a couple of hours of being around the kid for them to accept the fact that maybe this kid wasn’t acting just to mooch of off them. Clint and Natasha are both naturally skeptical while Tony is cautious only because people have used him for his money before. Wanda and Pietro are both suspicious because crying and sobbing was the kind of thing they were forced to do to gain pity from people to survive. 

Keep reading


illustration © attack on titan: lost girls by seko hiroshi

a very merry late christmas to attackthekilljoy! ta-dah, i’m your secret santa. i wasn’t sure what you wanted, so i hope this graphic isn’t too disappointing. i hope you had a great holiday!

Random talks

A/n: requested by moonlightonroses. I’m so sorry it’s just I had all these random ideas and I tried to thread them together and it’s horrible. I’m so sorry I’m a bit off my game it’s just that I just can’t focus and I’m sorry.

Watch a movie. Make sure it’s a superhero/spy thriller action movie. Doesn’t matter which one. I assure you dear reader, that there will be a cheesy line at some point.

And in the vigilante community no one was more notorious than your family.

They weren’t always cheesy lines, just really random conversations. You hadn’t really noticed till you were on patrol with your oldest brother, Dick.

You two had just been roof hopping when you heard shouts for help from an alleyway below you. You both dropped down and saw some of black mask’s henchmen.

You and your brother quickly set to work. “Looks like you got a black eye to match your boss’s face!” Dick shouted as he punched the leader.

You actually stopped fighting your opponent and groaned. Your opponent was kind enough to allow you five seconds of embarrassment from your brother before he attacked again.

When it was all over, you and Dick had an argument about better lines.

With Jason it was a bit different. You both had recently been on a Hamilton kick and could sing most of the songs by heart. (This next part is inspired by a chat thing on here. I forget who made it sorry)

You two had cornered a couple thugs. Jason held his gun up and aimed at the one. “Fools who run their mouths off wind up dead” he sang.

You facepalmed as the one crook joined in. He didn’t even make it to the third yo before Jason shot him and his friend.

“Jason! B said no more killing!”

“Relax sis, it was just rubber bullets. But the song was a nice touch, right?”

You sighed as you grappled up onto a rooftop. “Don’t talk to me until you stop being so cheesy.” *******************

Tim was probably the worst one. He’d steal the one liners from movies and the comic books that he reads. There was one night where he spent the entire time punching baddies in the gut and asking them about their stomach pains.

You had just left the building not even bothering to try and talk to him like you did the other two.

It wasn’t until the night that your father had needed all of you to work on a mission. It was nonstop talking and cracking jokes and you were about ready to murder someone.

At least Damian was quiet, you thought wistfully. That was until he started screaming at Tim about something stupid. Then Jason got involved and he dragged Dick into it. You were done.

Moving to sit next to your father, you rested your head on. The dashboard and let out a loud groan. He patted your back sympathetically.

“Will you all SHUT UP?!?!” You finally screamed. They all listened to you and you finally had a peaceful night.

[Warning, Spoilers]

….. I just want Akechi to have some love
I mean, I know he technically tried to kill Akira and pretty much end the Phantom Thieves, but his intentions weren’t focused on just them

As everyone knows, he was after his father the whole time, the Phantom Thieves were just another step in his revenge. I’d hope that everyone also knows that it didn’t go quite as planned.

Well, he did the one thing he tried to avoid.
He took off his mask.
He allowed himself to grow attached to the group and especially Akira because he could *trust him*. He never felt like he could trust anyone, he felt like he was a puppet for his father’s use. He never felt like he would be wanted for anything other than someone else’s profit. As we all know, though, that was proven wrong.

And you’re gonna hate him because of the way he is?

I know this post is completely unnecessary, but I felt like I SHOULD post about this because Akechi was and is receiving hate because they feel like he’s ‘despicable’ or he 'doesn’t deserve a second chance’

*Well I’m sorry to disappoint you, but the entire game was set on second chances.*

What makes Akechi so different? Just because he was an 'antagonist’? Because he 'is a terrible person?’
If you think that, what you’re doing is exactly what society did to the rest of the Phantom Thieves. You’re pretty much confirming that what happened in the game can actually happen (besides the Persona part, I wish though).

Look, I’m not saying that Akechi is an innocent angel or he did nothing wrong. I mean, obviously, he was at fault because he did it, whether Shido was controlling him or not. What I’m saying is that no matter what you’ve done, there should be a chance at forgiveness. This isn’t the case a lot of times, because people forget just how much everyone is so deserving of a second chance. To steal that from someone, that can make you the very worst kind of thief. Stealing someone’s right to actually live their life without ridicule or mockery is absolutely cruel.

Now, back to Akechi. Our ace detective is the perfect example of someone who is ridiculed by people because they just don’t like him or they like Yusuke better. I’m sorry, but Atlus decided to make Shuake/ Akeshu lowkey canon (I ship ShuKita as well as ShuAke, so I’m sort of happy and sad at the same time). It’s more of a mutual understanding than full blown romance, but it’s there, and there may be DLC like what they did with Persona 4. Don’t hate because your OTP isn’t canon. We all have our ships that we never got to see canon because the creators didn’t want it that way. It’s fine to ship those other characters, but no need for hating.

In conclusion, though he is an Antagonist, Akechi Goro might as well be one of the characters with the deepest and relatable stories (to a degree) that you don’t see every day. All of the main characters in Persona 5 had some really messed up stories, but he was the only one who didn’t get to see his 'justice’ unfold. If he is still alive, he should get a second chance, because in his final moments in the game he proved that he could change. He *did* change. He decided to save his friends. He sacrificed himself for them because he decided to care. Don’t believe me? Look at the note for the Level 10 Justice Confidant.

,,,,, just don’t hate on him for no good reason. If you have a particularly good reason for not liking Akechi, feel free to reblog this with your opinion.

Thank you for your time.

Gas Station Girl Again

So in that 4 months I witnessed a TON of buckwild shit. But I think the best and also worst was when I got accused of stealing from a customer.
For some reason the area I worked and lived in had a high amount of straight off the boat polish people. Now, usually, everyone’s pretty nice. Except for the older crowd. There is nothing worse than being berated by an ancient old person who is yelling in half polish half English. It’s the stuff of nightmares. Anyways, an older gentleman walks in, and asks for EXACTLY 13 gallons of gas. Now, like I stated before, my training was absolute dog shit so I had no idea how to charge for exactly 13 gallons, so I did the math for dollar per gallon with the .009 cent for every gallon margin, and charged his debit card the total. He seems satisfied enough, and goes out to pump his gas. During that time, another old family friend comes into the store and is buying coffee & cigarettes. We’re having light conversation when all of a sudden, the old man rushes into the store like a bat out of hell and starts yelling all types of profanities at me. He proceeds to call me a bitch, a whore, a painted slut, and asks if I steal from all the customers, or just him. I’m genuinely confused. I felt like I got blasted into the twilight zone or something. So I’m just staring at him with a blank face like, “what?” And he then continues to tell me he paid for 13 gallons worth of gas, but he was only able to pump 11. I then realized my math was off. So this old shit bag thought that I had charged him for the price of 13 gallons, but only allowed him to pump 11. Like I was some sort of Gas Pump Wizard. I tried explaining this to him, that I didn’t know how to charge him for exactly 13, so I did the best I could. He wasn’t satisfied and was still convinced I was stealing, like I personally profited from this exchange. I let it run for about another 10 minutes of just him yelling at me, and me trying to get other customers through before 3 different people forcibly pushed him out of the store. And I’m glad they did. I was about 2 seconds away from macing him in the face with the pepper spray I kept on my store keys :/

Ten Things Goblins Don't Want You To Know!

  1. They Hate Horses: Horses have a tendency to step on goblins, seeming to deliberately go out of their way to smash them.
  2. They Hate Dogs: The only thing a gobbie hates more than the horse is the common dog. Sure, they ride worgs and have their own rat-like mounts called “goblin dogs” but goblins homicidally insist that these are NOT dogs in any way, shape or form. Dogs, likewise, hate goblins back.
  3. Your Junkyard is Their Treasure Trove: Any place where people dump refuse attracts all kinds of vermin like crows, bugs, rats and goblins. Goblins are pretty creative when it comes to crafting things out of junk- especially weapons. Some of the more sadistic goblins make a sport out of murdering people with the stuff they throw away.
  4. Goblins Love to Sing: Goblin songs are catchy tunes, if you enjoy morbid lyrics. Larger tribes have warchanters sing to inspire goblin troops on raids. Goblins insist that warchanters inspire goblins to fight harder, but dwarf warriors claim otherwise.
  5. Sneaky Bastards: Among elven rangers, the term “sneaky goblin” is an oxymoron, as the little green chatterboxes never shut up. But if pressed, a goblin can swiftly shift into silence and sneak through areas undetected. Goblins are also adept at hiding in all sorts of places like crawlspaces, rain barrels, firewood piles, bales of hay, ovens…..
  6. Crazy Bastards: Yes, I said ovens.
  7. Hungry Bastards: An ideal goblin diet consists of over a dozen meals a day. However, since few goblin tribes have the supplies and infrastructure to support this kind of hunger, this is why they are always going on raids. Strangely enough, cannibalism is taboo in goblin society- although this taboo does not extend to other races, including hobgoblins and bugbears.
  8. Gobbies Like Fire: Goblins are master arsonists, always happy to light someone else’s property on fire- and if no property is available, they burn creatures instead! Goblins are careful about lighting fires in their own lairs, since the average goblin bed is a mix of dead leaves and dirty straw, but see Fact #6.
  9. Goblins Get Stuck Easily: Goblins that get excited or scared often don’t think things through. Their small bodies can squeeze into virtually any space, but sometimes their bulbous heads get stuck. That incoherent screaming you hear? No, your house is not haunted, you probably just have a goblin stuck in the walls. Sewer backed up? Goblin in the pipes! (alive or dead is another story)
  10. Writing Steals Your Soul: Goblins do not have an alphabet. All of their history is recorded in pictographs on the walls of their tribe’s lair. Goblins are terrified of writing. They say it’s unlucky. They say it steals thoughts from your head, and you can never get them back. The worst thing someone can do, however, is write down a goblin’s name. Anyone who has written a goblin’s name down has made an enemy for life. For you have stolen the goblin’s soul, and the goblin can never get that back. Therefore, the goblin has nothing to lose now, and you’d best be checking the locks on your doors, the latches on the windows, and check to see what’s cooking in the oven, just in case…….

Jean Valjean from Les Miserables
by Rebecca
requested by anonymous

Introverted Intuition (Ni)
“Jean Valjean is nothing now, another story must begin!”
Once he is let into the world again, Valjean does his best to look to the future and continue moving forward in whatever way he sees fit. He tends to look ahead instead of getting hung up on his past, which is what allows him to recreate his life several times throughout the show. He finds a deeper meaning to his life throughout the show, and this helps to guide him in all of his decisions as he takes in Cosette, helps the rebellion, and ends up saving Marius’s life. This meaning is tied to religion after meeting the bishop and finding that the man saw something more to him than a criminal. He then lives by this and continues to improve his connection to religion and himself throughout his actions in the show.

Extraverted Feeling (Fe)
“If I speak, they are condemned. If I stay silent, I am damned!”
Throughout his life, Jean Valjean has shown himself to be selfless and to have acted for other people above himself. The crime that ended up changing his life, stealing some bread, was in order to feed his family and prevent them from starving to death. This theme is echoed throughout the show as he takes in Fantine’s child after speaking to the dying woman and then ends up becoming a father to Cosette. He tends to take the feelings of other people in account whenever he makes decisions, such as in “Who Am I?” when he considers the wellfare of his workers and what would happen to them if he was to reveal himself to be Jean Valjean after hiding under a different persona for so long.

Introverted Thinking (Ti)
“These men who seem to know my crime will surely come a second time.”
Valjean spends a good deal of time within his own head, thinking about what he should do and using logic to help make his decisions. He has “Valjean’s Soliloquy”, “Who Am I?”, and a slew of other songs that help to show how he tends to think through his decisions and check them with his inner logic. His thoughts show he is able to analyze the opportunities that come to him, and although his feelings about others often come first, he finds that his personal logic is also a guiding force. He weighs his options with a good amount of logic, not allowing his feelings for others (Fe) to completely overpower everything that he thinks within.

Extraverted Sensing (Se)
“All I did was steal some bread.”
Many of Valjean’s worst moments come from acting in the moment and not taking time to look deeper into situations. One of the prime examples of this is when he first stole bread before the events of the show and then ended up labeled a permanent criminal. He sometimes struggles when it comes to making decisions in the moment, often becoming overwhelmed and barely managing to get out unscathed, such as his many interactions with Javert. He feels a deeper connection with his personal thoughts and his religion than he does with the physical world, and tends to be quieter about his experiences. However, in moments that require great physical strength and prowess he ends up showing himself capable.

slycooperandcarlosfox  asked:

Sly 5 idea. Sly and the Gang go back in time and help one of his ancestors beat up their world's equivalent to Nazis. (Suggesting solely to piss off White Supremacists.)

Okay, first off, A+ reason for doing anything, ever

Secondly, I wonder about this myself. With the Coopers’ stated aim of only stealing from the worst, individual members must’ve taken political stances throughout history. For instance, I decided that my semi-OC Suzanne Cooper, who would’ve been operating in the US during their Civil War, spent time stealing Confederate war supplies.

Thirdly… I’m definitely going to make this into its own post at some point, but… I don’t think there’s an “equivalent”. It’s Earth. The same countries, the same (rough) history.

Furry World War 2 happened.

“I don’t want to internalize this anymore, so I need to confess. I find it hard to create a good character on my own. English isn’t my first language and my muse is very superficial, so I make him unknowable and mysterious to compensate. My character information is very sparse. I also delete and move blogs a lot. But here’s the worst part, I steal writing and ideas from other muns. I know it’s wrong, and it’s illegal to plagiarize. I just need to stop.“


7 Common mistakes, we usually make in prayer.

Mistake 1: Reciting Surat al-Fatiha fast without pausing after each verse.

The Prophet (SAW) used to pause after each verse of this surah. (Abu Dawood)

Mistake 2: Sticking the arms to the sides of the body, in rukoo’ or sujood, and sticking the belly to the thighs in #sujood.

The Messenger of Allah (SAW) said: ‘Let not one of you support himself on his forearms (in sujood) like the dog. Let him rest on his palms and keep his elbows away from his body.’ (Sahih Muslim). The Messenger of Allah (SAW) used to keep his arms away from his body during rukoo’ and sujood that the whiteness of his armpits could be seen. (Sahih Muslim)

Mistake 3: Gazing upward during prayer.
This may cause loss of concentration. We are commanded to lower our gaze, and look at the point at which the head rests during sujood. The Prophet (SAW) warned: 'Let those who raise their
gaze up during prayer stop doing so, or else their sights would
not return to them. i.e. lose their eyesight.’ (Muslim)

Mistake 4 : Resting only the tip of the head on the floor during sujood.

The Prophet (SAW) said: 'I am commanded to prostrate on seven
bones : the forehead and the nose, the two hands [palms], the two knees, and the two feet.’ (Sahih Muslim). Applying the above command necessitates resting the forehead and the nose on
the ground during sujood.

Mistake 5 : Hasty performance of prayer which does not allow repose and calmness in rukoo’ or sujood.

The Messenger of Allah (SAW) saw a man who did not complete his rukoo’ [bowing], and made a very short sujood [prostration] ; he (SAW) said: 'If this man dies while praying in this manner, he would die upholding a religion other than the religion of Muhammad.’

Abu Hurairah (RA) said: 'My beloved friend, Muhammad (SAW) forbade me to perform postures of prayer copying the picking of a rooster; (signifying fast performance of prayer), moving eyes around like a fox and the sitting like monkeys ( i.e. to sit on thighs).’ (Imam Ahmad & at-Tayalisi).

The Messenger of Allah (SAW) said: ’ The worst thief is the one who steals from his own prayer.’ People asked, 'Messenger of Allah! How could one steal from his own prayer?’ He (SAW) said: 'By not completing its rukoo’ and sujood.’ (At Tabarani & al-Hakim).

To complete rukoo’ is to stay in that posture long enough to recite
'Subhana Rabbiyal Adtheem’ three times, SLOWLY, and 'Subhana Rabbiyal A'ala’ three times, SLOWLY, in sujood. He (SAW) also announced: 'He who does not complete his rukoo’ and sujood,
his prayer is void.’ (Abu Dawood & others)

Mistake 6 : Counting #tasbeeh with the left hand

The Prophet (SAW) used to count tasbeeh on the fingers of his right hand after salah. Ibn Qudamah (RA) said: ’ The Messenger of Allah (SAW) used his right hand for tasbeeh.’ (Abu Dawood). The above hadeeth indicates clearly that the Prophet (SAW) used only one hand for counting tasbeeh. No Muslim with sound mind would imagine that the Prophet (SAW) used his left hand for counting tasbeeh. Aa'ishah (RA) said that the Prophet (SAW) used his left hand only for Istinjaa’, or cleaning himself after responding to the call of nature. He never used it for tasbeeh. Yasirah (RA) reported: The Prophet (SAW) commanded women to count tasbeeh on their fingers.

The Messenger of Allah (SAW) said: 'They (the fingers) will be made to speak, and will be questioned (on the Day of Resurrection)’ (At-Tirmidhi).

The above Hadeeth indicates that it is preferable to count tasbeeh on the fingers of the right hand than to do so on masbahah(rosary).

Mistake 7 : Crossing in front of a praying person.

The Messenger of Allah (SAW) warned: 'Were the one who crosses in front of a praying person to know the consequences of doing so, he would have waited for *forty better than to cross in front of him.’ (Sahih Bukhari and Muslim). *The forty in the tradition may be; days, months or even years.

Allah knows the best.

Please inform your near and dear ones to take care of the above.

—  Reminder

anonymous asked:

Alright, I'm gonna be THAT person and ask if you could maybe do the whole Legends team for the platonic ask game?

  • Who offers to get rid of the evidence and body whenever the other starts complaining about someone: I don’t want to be obvious and say Sara and the Rogues, but OF COURSE it’s Sara and the Rogues. This was met with uncomfortable silence for the first two weeks or so, when nobody was sure if they were kidding or not, and now barely gets more than an eye roll from anyone.
  • Who shows up at the other’s house with food and movies when the other is having a bad day: Sara brings the ice cream, Ray and Kendra bring the actual meal, and then everyone fights about the movie until the Sad Friend forgets why they were even sad.
  • Who sends the other tons of videos/phone game requests: RAY, to the point that Len wants to flush his phone down the fucking toilet.
  • Who glares at the other til they sit down and eat: Literally everyone @ Rip during his depressive episodes tbh
  • Who stands behind the other and signals to the person arguing with their friend that if the person hurts their friend then they will hunt the person down: Sara, ESPECIALLY if Kendra or Jax is the one arguing. Or Rip, if it’s on a mission. When Len is the one in an argument she just hangs around smirking to watch whoever he’s fighting with get fucking destroyed.
  • Who starts the war on stealing food from the other: Sara and Mick are the worst food thieves, Stein is the one who gets most upset about food thievery, and everyone else is caught in the middle.  
  • Who comes up with the bad ideas that they will regret in the morning and who stops them/goes with them to keep them from getting into too much trouble: Rip comes up with the majority of bad ideas but none of these assholes ever really stop each other, they just do horrible things and start fights and lose the odd limb here and there and never learn their lesson.

anonymous asked:

You probably have no time to do this but if you're in the mood someday, could you write a cute little post 10.05 fic with shipper!sam, who brings up destiel and sastiel the whole time because he is an adorable goofball?

Oh dear, sweet, precious, Anon…. you asked for it. ^_^ *cracks knuckles* Shipper!Sam coming right up!


Though neither of them says it, Dean knew their run in with Marie and the others did he and Sam some good. Did them a lot of good, actually. They’d been so lost, trying to get back to themselves, and the girls had simply set them straight again. They’d reminded them of who they were, where they came from, what they had to do, and even reminded them that they weren’t alone in their fight, which was amazing.

It had been what Dean and Sam both desperately needed. Sam’d been practically cheerful since, which would be weird if Dean weren’t so happy to see his brother in such a good mood. Hell, Dean was in a good mood, and kept having to stop himself from tapping out the beat to the opening Supernatural musical number that was playing out in his head.

They weren’t okay yet, but they were better on their way to that place than they had been. It didn’t surprise Dean when Sam’s phone rang, and after digging it out of his pocket, the younger Winchester had answered with a cheerful, “Hey, Cas!”

Dean could only imagine the pause of confusion on the other end of the phone, the angel pausing to frown at the electronic device before questioning, “Sam?” Happy Winchesters were rare and not to be taken lightly.

“Yeah, it’s me, Cas. Great timing, we were just talking about you.” Glancing away from the road, Dean frowned at his brother, because no they had not. Sam just grinned and nodded pointedly at the caution light in the distance they would need to turn at. “Since you aren’t leading the angels, and if you aren’t, y’know, busy, you should come back home. Dean wanted to ask you to, but you know how he is, and with it technically being my fault he was blackmailed into asking you to leave when he didn’t want to, I’m extending the invitation this time.”

There was a pause, in which Dean tried to close his slack jawed mouth while simultaneously attempting to hear what Castiel was saying on the other end that had Sam huffing an amused laugh. Sam assured, “No, Cas, I am not drunk. I- We want you to come home- if you would like.”

In the driver’s seat, Dean held his breath while both he and Sam waited for the other man’s response. The grin that spread across Sam’s face was all the answer Dean needed.


Dean didn’t catch on at first. He thought it was more of Sam just being unusually cheerful, or that he was maybe even leading up to starting a prank war, but the gleeful and sometimes even smug looks the taller male shot Dean’s way had nothing to do with practical jokes. In fact, if Dean didn’t know any better, he would think he and Sam had a silent bet going on, except Dean knew nothing about it.

Sam kept interjecting himself between Dean and Cas, like when they were researching in the library. Sam would shoot in front of Dean to slide into the chair next to the former angel before Dean could, leaving the blond to have to sit on the opposite side of the table frowning at the pair of them. Meanwhile, the corner of Sam’s mouth was curled in smug satisfaction.

Sam seemed to constantly be vying for Cas’ attention. Consulting him on ancient texts, or demonic and angelic activity. He enthusiastically told him about their first encounter at the all girls school and Supernatural the musical, making the angel cover his face with one hand as his laughed. The sight of it made something coil in the pit of Dean’s stomach, dark and possessive and jealous. He frowned and looked away, tried to focus on the text in front of him and ignore the easy laughter making his teeth grind.

It wasn’t until Sam pulled Cas up from his chair by the elbow with a “C’mon, Cas. Let’s go get a coffee. I’ll introduce you to my favorite place” that Dean finally snapped.

To be fair, it was the way Sam had thrown an arm around Cas’ neck and grinned back at Dean looking triumphant that did it. Dean had thrown his hands out demandingly, mouthing “What the FUCK are you doing?!”

Only to have Sam grin wider, the bitch, and wink at him, before licking his index finger and marking a point on an imaginary scoreboard, lips clearly forming the word “Sastiel”.

Oh he was NOT.

It took everything in Dean not to throw the book he was studying.

They hadn’t been gone five minutes before Dean was on his phone, texting his brother. ‘The hell are you doing?!’

Sammy :if for some reason a prophet continues bks about our lives, I’m creating my own subtext and ship. :p

Sammy: Sastiel for the win

The elder Winchester nearly broke this phone screen with the force of his typing “You cannot STEAL my angel!”

Sammy: Enough coffee and bonding, and I’m pretty sure the fans will think I have. Or that Hannah has. Apparently she’s grown quite fond of him recently. Hanstiel? Castannah?

Dean: This isn’t a game!

Sammy: Well, not if you don’t play. Megstiel is already canon, but I doubt it’ll be hard to beat THAT ships popularity.


Dean did not take his brother seriously. It was the start to some sort of prank war or something, Sam trying to get a rise out of Dean, and Dean would have been able to let it go and forget about it had Sam only left it alone.

They would be doing research in the library, when Sam or Cas might find something that made them compare notes and research, their chairs pulled closer together so they could collaborate, and Sam would make a point of meeting Dean’s eye to mark himself a point on that same imaginary scoreboard.

Sam wasn’t just keeping up with his points, either. The night it was Dean’s turn to do dishes, Cas ended up offering to dry if Dean washed, both of them talking easily as they did, grinning and shoulders occasionally brushing. Sam had poked his head in to ask something, only to get distracted.

“Hey Dean-oh! Destiel!”

The plate Dean had been washing ended up splashing back into the sink, whole face heating up as Cas looked at the brunette in confusion.


The cheeky bitch just flashed a grin. “Ask Dean. Dean, I’m putting on a load of laundry. Want me to add your stuff to the pile?”

“Yes, if it’ll make you shut up and go away.”

When Sam had gone, the angel had looked questioningly at the elder hunter, but Dean had held up a finger to stop his question. “Don’t. He’s being obnoxious. Ignore him.”


Dean had a much harder time following his own advice. It was Sam’s fault. How could Dean let it go or forget about it when Sam was there with a running tally constantly going?

Sam inviting Cas to go for a jog? Sastiel.

Cas makes Dean laugh due to a reference he got and then countered with one Dean didn’t get? Destiel.

Hannah called to check in on how Cas was doing, and quite clearly wanted to come by and actually see him? Double points for Hanstiel.

For days, like an ongoing soundtrack to his life were Sam’s whispers and stifled coughs adding to the score board. Sastiel, Sastiel, Hanstiel, Destiel, Sastiel, Hanstiel, along with little comments that just left Dean utterly confused as to what he had missed ‘Beautiful Destiel moment there, too bad you weren’t paying attention’, ‘I get the feeling Hanstiel might actually be popular with fans’, ‘If you aren’t careful Dean, someone may come and steal Cas away from you’.

And the worst part of it was that Dean was starting to feel as though he were losing Cas to either Hannah or Sam, what with all the points on the board Sam kept tallying out. The whole time Sam was manically gleeful, Dean increasing irate, poor Castiel was utterly baffled what was going on between the brothers.

It wasn’t even Hannah’s fault Dean was so extremely pissed off to see her when she did come by the bunker one day to check on her brother. (The Winchesters refused to allow her inside though) Well, it was partially her fault. She had tried to turn Cas against Dean and now was raking up a nice hoard of points for Hanstiel according to Sam’s dutiful scorekeeping. He had every reason to hate her.

Dean was leaning against the railing, arms folded and glowering at the door when Cas shut it with a final wave to his sister. Behind them in the War Room, Sam was seated in a chair with his hands folded behind his head, grinning.

“Dude, Destiel is getting it’s ass kicked here lately.”

Dean rounded on him, hands curling over the railing as he leaned forward to glare down at his brother. “Would you shut up? There is no Destiel!”

"Well certainly not at this rate. Sastiel may be doomed to be forever bromance, but have you seen her? Hanstiel may just break up the Team Free Will family, dude. I can only fight for Destiel to win so much, Dean. You’re one half of that OTP, you have to fight for it, or you’re gonna lose your bae to an angel in a sensible work outfit. That will just be embarrassing.”

"What are the two of you going on about?” demanded Cas, frustrated.

"Nothing,” snapped Dean, as Sam cheerfully supplied, “Destiel.”

“What is Destiel? You keep going on about these phrases, what are they?” Cas asked, looking back and forth between the two brothers.

“Better tell him, Dean,” Sam called out, with the widest shit eating grin,  voice sounding cheerful and threatening, “because you really don’t want me to.”

“What. Is. Des-”

“It’s us,” Dean exclaimed, whirling on the angel. “Destiel is what fans call us, you and me. The fans of Chucks books have names for the couples they support in the books, and you and I are the Brangelina of Supernatural, okay?”

"And thanks to Hannah’s obvious epic crush, Hanstiel is the rising threat to CasDean- or DeanCas- ever becoming canon,” called Sam, head angled and grinning.

Glaring, Dean jabbed a finger at his brother. “Stop. Helping!” he barked, before turning back to Castiel, mouth opening to try and further explain or argue, his whole face was encompassed in a blush.

He didn’t get to say anything else, because he was cut off by Castiel pushing into his personal space and pressing his mouth to Dean’s.

Earning a whoop and cheers of “Canon! Canon!” from Sam, as he nearly toppled out of his chair digging out his phone to let Charlie, Jodi, and even Crowley know.

Dean’s eyes fluttered open as Castiel pulled away, blue eyes regarding him with awe. “Hannah is no threat to… Destiel. No one is.”