things that looked better in my head

Getting Asks

A lot of people on my dash seem to feel disheartened by the lack of asks they receive.

While it is good to communicate how you feel every now and then and that it is completely understandable to feel dismayed at the lack of response from other people when you reblog an ask (it happens to me too!), it’s not very effective motivation to call people out on their ‘failure’ to send asks. A gentle nudge, a gentle reminder that we appreciate receiving asks is great. But.

Here’s the thing. No one is obligated to send you anything. In the end this is all for fun. No one likes being guilted, so let’s not play the blame game. Instead of going at length about that, here’s what I think:

I DO think it’s common courtesy to send someone an ask before reblogging (I certainly do it, and make an effort to choose questions that might be interesting/challenging) but it isn’t necessarily a requirement.

It’s a two way street. You may be doing things that put people off, and I’ll tell you what and how you may improve interest from other people.

1. Make your characters accessible.

Here is the number one thing that personally stops me from sending asks for more people, or responding to some asks. I don’t know anything about some of your characters. I know some off the top of my head, but for people I don’t know very well, sometimes I’d like to get better acquainted. Then I get to their blog. No links to profiles. No links to character tags. I don’t even know the character’s full name, so I can’t even look it up on lodestone. I have no face to put to a name. I don’t even know what race this character is.

People are curious. Let them be curious, but point them in the right direction! Put stuff about your character where people can easily see, on your sidebars/links. I have encountered interesting characters just by reading before sending an ask.

2. Don’t reblog 50 ask memes in a row.

As fun and as tempting this is to do, a stranger going to your blog and seeing nothing but reblogs is… off-putting. It’s hard to approach someone you don’t know so well. It’s much easier to send asks to a blog with a personality, which brings me to my next point.

3. Original content makes your characters attractive.

Maybe you like drawing your character. Maybe you’re good at taking screenshots. Maybe you’re good at edits. You don’t even have to be good at visuals per se. You can write drabbles. Or maybe you have a wicked sense of humor involving your character and you can make memetastic content. Go for it. People will be curious. People will get to know you and have a better idea how to approach you. Put your heart into it, show people who your characters are, what they like, little scenes of their lives. People like stories, so tell them a story.

Put you and your character out there, and people will recognize you. People won’t know anything about you or your character if you don’t take this step.

4. Don’t JUST send asks. Talk to people.

Sending asks is only ONE part of the give-take. Get to know the people around you. IC and OOC. Sometimes sending asks isn’t enough. If people have only seen a name a couple times, interacting with them to send one symbol and disappearing, never to speak to them again, it’s not a memorable thing. Talk to the people around you. Befriend them. Get to know THEIR characters. Show interest in theirs, outside the ask box, on a more personal level and with luck, they’ll show interest in yours. Have fun with other people, share silly things you do with them. It helps. It’s easy to want 328490 anon asks, but it’s also very satisfying to receive asks from friends who understand your character.

5. Reblog the 'correct’ kind of ask meme.

You’re free to reblog any ask meme, just understand that if the topic is not one other characters can relate to easily, people aren’t going to send you asks. If it requires intimate IC knowledge of a character, it’s difficult to send asks to you. If you want a wider audience, here’s a litmus test: reblog memes that you can easily send to a stranger without shame. You don’t really want to send one like [MY OC DIES IN YOUR OC’S ARMS] especially if that sort of a thing only elicits an IC reaction when your character personally knows them. Speaking of which, people usually love memes that have your characters gauge theirs. Sometimes you’d be surprised to know your character may feel antagonistic or attracted towards someone else’s. Or even ones that ask your character questions without putting their own character in it, to see yours have a fun reaction. It’s a two way street, and if it’s fun for them to read, chances are they’d love to come back and send you more.

6. You have 50 characters.

This isn’t a bad thing but this is related to points 1 & 3. It’s hard to get to know and remember so many characters. You might wanna put one in the spotlight if you really want to maximize interaction. I have difficulty getting attention for my alts but that’s because I personally hardly produce content for them. I love my alts, and I want people to know them, and I’m sure some of you do as well, but realistically, if you want equal attention on your characters? You need to put equal effort into posting about them.

7. Sometimes people won’t send you anything.

THIS IS THE REALITY OF LIFE. Sometimes you’re SUPER into a set of questions that people are coincidentally not. Maybe they’re busy. Maybe your reblogged it at a weird hour. Maybe they’re feeling shy. In any case, this happens. If it does, move on. Don’t dwell on it. You’ll only feel worse.

Aries: Do not mourn over things that never did you any good. Do not look at those moments with rose colored nostalgia. They will always lead you astray. 

Taurus: Keep your head up. The critics will come hard and fast. Tell them to fuck off with middle fingers up. You are so much better then this fucking town.

Gemini: The ghosts can’t hurt you anymore. Even as they reach out from the past. You’ve got the salt. You’ve got the gun now. You are in charge, and they should be scared. Not you. Not anymore.

Cancer: Stop going back to burned bridges. Trying to make something out of the ashes. Remind yourself you set the flames for a god damn reason. Mourn the loss, but don’t keep going back to the scene of the crime.

Leo:  You are not the chaos around you. Not the pain that the aftermath is causing. You are so much more then the bad things you think about yourself. Learn to make the eye of the storm your home.

Virgo: Sometimes you need to let go of the past and all of the memories it holds. It’s going to hurt in a way you couldn’t imagine, but you have to clean out the infection to get better. You will get better.

Libra: Stop following people down rabbit holes. If you were meant to be 6 feet under you would be. Do not rush time and do not test fate. You can not try to take their place.

Scorpio:   Do not apologize for doing what you had to do. For having a spine. For learning to pick up a knife and defend yourself. You do not owe them  an explanation. You do not owe them an apology. You do not owe them anything.

Sagittarius: Stop trying to destroy your beauty, just because you can not see it. It doesn’t matter how much alcohol. How many pills. How many scars you give yourself. You are still as bright as the sun. Just as beautiful as the moon.

Capricorn:  Hold them to the standards you expect of yourself. If they can not meet them, then they don’t deserve a seat at the table with you. Do not dim your light or slow down to make them comfortable. It’s not worth it.

Aquarius:  It’s okay to indulge. Okay to go numb every once in awhile. You do not have to sit there and make yourself suffer night after night, just to be strong. It is okay to break. It is okay to be weak. It is okay to need a moment of true peace.

Pisces: If you keep faking a smile long enough, you’ll eventually start to believe it to. Just try and pretend at being happy now, so that you can learn to be really happy when the time comes.

—  This Weeks Zodiac

anonymous asked:

*shyly whispers* do u think u could do another Greek Mythology story~

“Your tapestries are so fine,” the merchant says in wonder, “that you must be blessed by the goddess Athena.”

Arachne tosses her head, braided hair falling over her shoulder like an obsidian waterfall, “What’s Athena got to do with it? My hands wove these, not hers.”

The merchant blanches and looks to the sky, as if expecting Zeus himself to smite them for blasphemy. Personally, she thinks the king of the gods has better thing to do with his time. “Ah,” he says weakly, “I suppose.”

He pays her for her wares and she leaves, almost immediately bumping into a hunched old woman with grey eyes. “Do you not owe Athena thanks for your talent?” she croaks, gnarled hands curled over a cane.

Arachne is not stupid, but she is foolish. They will tell tales of it. She looks into those grey eyes and declares, “Athena should thank me, since my talents earn her so much praise.”

She pushes past her and keeps walking, ignoring the goddess in humans skin as she disappears into the crowd.

They will tell tales of her hubris. They will all be true.

~

The next day she bumps into the same old woman at the market. Everything goes downhill from there.

“Know your place, mortal,” Athena says, grey eyes narrowed. There is a crowd around them, and Arachne could save herself, could walk away unscathed, and all she has to do is say her weaving is inferior to that of a goddess.

She will not lie.

“I do,” she says coolly, “and in this matter, it is above you.”

She is not honest as a virtue, but as a vice.

Athena challengers her to a weaving contest. She accepts.

~

Gods are not so hard to find, if you know where to look.

“It’s a volcano,” the baker repeats, looking down at her coins, as if he feels guilty for taking money from someone who’s clearly not all there.

She grabs her bag of sweet breads and adds it to her pack before swinging it over her shoulders, “Yes, I know. Half a day’s walk, you said?”

“A volcano,” he insists, as if she did not hear him perfectly well the first dozen times.

“Thank you for your help,” she says. He’s shaking his head at her, but she knows what she’s doing.

She walks. She grows hungry, but does not touch the bread she paid for, and walks some more. The sun’s begun to set by the time she makes it to the base of the volcano. It’s tall, impossibly large, and for a moment the promise of defeat threatens to overwhelm her.

But Arachne does not believe in defeat, in loss. They will tell tales of her hubris. Those tales will be true.

She ties a scarf around her braids then hikes her skirt up and ties the material so it falls only to her thighs. She fits work roughened hands into the divots of cooled magma and begins her slow ascent.

~

The muscles in her legs and arms shake, and her hunger pains are almost as distracting. Her once white dress is dirt smeared and torn and sweat makes her itch as it covers her body and drips down her back.

“What are you doing?”

Arachne turns her head and bites back a scream, looking into one giant eye. The cyclops holds easily to the volcano’s edges, even though her hands are torn and bleeding. She swallows and says, “I heard you like honeyed bread. Is it true?”

The creature tilts his head to the side, baring his long fanged teeth at her. She thinks he might be smiling. “You’ve been climbing for hours. What do you want?”

“Is it true?” she repeats, refusing to flinch.

“Yes,” he says, looking at her the same way the baker had, “it’s true.”

“There’s some sweet bread in my pack, baked this morning,” she says, “it should still be soft.”

His hands are big enough and strong enough that it could probably squeeze her head like a grape. Instead he gently undoes her pack and reaches inside. The honey buns look comically small in his large hands, and he swallows half of them in one bite. He licks his fingers clean when he’s done, and his smile is just as terrifying the second time around. “I am Brontes. Why are you climbing my master’s volcano?”

“I’m the weaver Arachne,” she takes a deep breath, “I need your master’s help.”

~

They tell tales of Hephaestus’s ugliness.

They are not true.

He’s got a broad, angular face and short brown hair. His eyes are like amber set into his face, and his arms are huge, and he’s rippling muscle from the waist up. He has legs only to his knees. From there down his legs are bronze gears and golden wire, replacements for the legs destroyed when Hera threw him from Mount Olympus.

“Had your look, girl?” he asks, voice rough like he’s always a moment away from breaking into a coughing fit.

“Yes,” she says, and doesn’t turn away, keeps looking.

His lips quirk up at the corners, so it was the right move. The heat is even more oppressive inside the volcano, and all around him cyclopses work, forging oddly shaped metal that she can’t hope to understand. “You’ve gone to an awful lot of trouble to find me, girl. What do you want?”

She slides her pack off her shoulders and holds it out to the god, “I have a gift for your wife. I have woven her a cloak.”

He raises an eyebrow and doesn’t reach for the bag, “You believe something made with mortal hands could be worthy of the goddess of beauty?”

They will tell tales of her hubris.

“Yes.”

They will all be true.

With a gust of wind the oppressive heat of the volcano is swept away, leaving her chilled. In its place stands a woman – more than a woman. Aphrodite has skin like the copper of her husband’s machines and hair dark and thick and long. Her eyes are deepest, richest brown, piercing in their intelligence. People don’t tell tales of Aphrodite’s cleverness. That is because people are stupid.

“Let’s see it then,” she says, reaching inside the pack and pulling the cloak from its depths.

It unrolls beautifully. It’s made from the finest silks, and it shimmers in the light from the forges. The hem of the cloak is sea foam, speaking of Aphrodite’s beginning, and up along the cloak is intricate patterns it tells of her life, of her marriage and her worshippers and escapades, all with the detail of the most experienced artist and the reverence of her most devoted followers.

Her lips part in surprise and she slides it on, twirling like a child. “Gorgeous,” Hephaestus says, though Arachne knows he does not speak of the cloak. She doesn’t take offense.

The goddess smiles and Arachne’s heart pounds in her chest. She does her best to ignore it – Aphrodite is the goddess of love, after all. It is only expected. “Very well,” the goddess says, “you have my attention.”

Arachne swallows. Aphrodite’s attention is a heavy thing. “I have offended Athena,” she says, “She has challenged me to a weaving contest.”

Their faces somber. Hephaestus rubs the edge of a sleeve between his fingers and says, “Athena will lose such a contest, if judged fairly. She does not take loss well.”

“I know,” she says, “you are friendly with Hades, are you not?”

There are no tales of their friendship. But she’s staking her life on its existence, because why wouldn’t it exist – both of them even tempered, both shunned by Olympus, both happily married.

Gods hate being made to feel lesser. It is why they say Persephone was kidnapped, why they say Aphrodite cheats with Ares. It is why Athena will crush her when Arachne wins the weaving contest.

“Clever girl,” Hephaestus says, smiling.

Aphrodite stares at her reflection in a convenient piece of polished silver. Arachne assumes Hephaestus left if lying there for that express purpose. “Very well!” the goddess says, not looking at her, “when Athena sends you to the underworld, we will entrench upon our uncle for your release.” She turns on her heel and points a finger at her. Arachne blushes for no reason she can think of. “In return, you will weave me a gown, one equal to my own beauty.”

A gown as exquisite as the goddess of beauty. An impossible task.

They will tell tales of her hubris.

“I accept.”

They will all be true.

~

The contest goes as expected. Athena’s tapestry is lovely, but Arachne’s is lovelier.

The goddess’s face goes red in rage, and her grey eyes narrow. Arachne stands tall, ready to accept the death blow coming for her.

The blow comes.

Death does not.

~

She is an insect. Even if she can make it back to Hephaestus’s volcano, even if they can help her, they will not know it is her. She has no hope left, no course of action, she should just give up. But –

She doesn’t believe in defeat, in loss.

It was a terribly long journey on foot, that first time. It is even longer this time, although now she has eight legs instead of two. She makes it to the volcano, and creeps in between crevices, until she finds out a hollowed room, one with a sliver of sunlight and plenty of bugs to keep her fed.

Athena’s cruel joke of allowing her to weave will be her downfall. Her silk comes out a golden yellow color – it will look exquisite against Aphrodite’s copper skin.

~

It takes seven years for her to complete it. She hasn’t left this room in the volcano in all that time, and as soon as it’s done she scurries out back toward the village. She’s a large insect, but not that large.

She arrives just as the sun begins to rise, and leaves before the first rays have even touched the earth, her prize tied to her back with her own silk.

Arachne doesn’t return to her room. Instead she goes to the more popular parts of the volcano, hurries and runs around terrifying stomping feet until she finds who she’s looking for and scurries up his leg and onto his shoulder.

“Huh,” Brontes looks onto his shoulder and blinks. “What on earth are you?”

She cautiously skitters down his arm, waiting. He bends closer and lightly touches her back. “Is – is that a piece of a honey bun?”

She looks up at him, waiting. It’s her only chance, if he doesn’t remember, if he doesn’t understand –

His face slowly fills with a cautious kind of wonder. “Arachne?”  She jumps in place, being unable to nod, and Brontes cautiously cradles her in his massive hands, “We must find the Master immediately!”

She jumps down, landing in front of him and running forward. “Wait!” he calls, and she makes sure he’s running after her before skittering back to her corner of the cave. It’s almost too small for him to enter but he squeezes inside and breathes, “Oh.” He stares for several moments, and Arachne climbs her web and waits. Brontes shakes himself out of his reverie and uses his powerful wings to bellow, “MISTRESS APHRODITE!”

There’s that same breeze and she’s in the crevice with them, “What was so important, Brontes, that you had to yell?”

Arachne sees the exact moment that the goddess sees the gown, golden yellow and glimmering, made entirely of spider silk. “Beautiful,” she says, reaching out a hand to brush down the bodice. Her head then snaps up, “Brontes, where’s Arachne?”

She warms at that, that Aphrodite knew it was her weaving even though she hasn’t been seen in seven years.

They’ve told tales of her hubris.

They are all true.

Brontes points at the web, and Aphrodite steps over and holds out her hands. Arachne crawls onto the goddess’s palms. “Athena is more powerful than I am, I cannot undo her work,” she says, “but I know someone who can.”

Then they are in front of a river. A handsome young man stands there waiting with a boat. “Goddess Aphrodite,” he says, “we weren’t expecting you.”

“Thanatos,” she returns, “I need to see Persephone.”

The man’s face stays cool, and for a moment Arachne fears they will be refused and she will be stuck in this form forever. Then he smiles and says, “My lady is of course available for her favored niece.” He holds out a hand to help her onto the boat, “Please come with me.”

~

Arachne weaves a dress for Hades’s wife as a thank you, and returns to her volcano.

“I can take you somewhere else,” Aphrodite says, “you don’t have to hide here.”

Arachne pauses at her loom. She has lived in this volcano for seven years. It’s her home. “Would you like me to leave?” she asks instead.

Aphrodite scoffs, “Of course not! How could I dress myself without you here?” She’s wearing the spider silk dress Arachne spun for her, and she’s working on another for the goddess now. Aphrodite runs a gentle finger down Arachne’s cheek and for a moment she forgets to breathe. “You are the finest weaver to ever exist.”

She looks up at the goddess, “Then as the god of crafts and goddess of beautiful things, where else would I belong besides with you and Hephaestus?”

To declare your company equal to that of gods is the height of arrogance and blasphemy.

They tell tales of her hubris.

“An excellent point,” Aphrodite murmurs, and tucks a stray braid behind Arachne’s ear.

They are all true.

gods and monsters series part iii

Lockers - Peter Parker

request -  hey, welcome to tumblr ! great username XD i was wondering if you could do a scenario where the reader was in the elevator then as spiderman pulls her up, she recognizes his voice then the next day, she confronts peter in at school, in an empty classroom and says she knows who he is and then hugs him out of nowhere and so much fluff ugh. thank you and i wish you the best with the blog !

a/n - i went through many different plots/settings with this fic so it took a while but, writing this was really fun. it sort of become rly super duper long so i apologize for that LOL and hopefully the fluff isn’t a flop like me but don’t forget to request a peter parker/spider-man fic if you’d like and follow!

The elevator began to shake even more, dropping one more time before I felt as if our fate was waiting for us down at the bottom floor. The broken glass made it hard to stand up, but what was even worse was that I was the only one left in the doomed elevator.

“Grab onto my hand!” The officer shouted at me, extending his arm to be the best way he could. I tried to desperately to reach it, but I couldn’t. The mix of adrenaline and fear had struck my body to the max.

“Sir, I-I can’t.” I cried, my heart breaking even more. Just then, the elevator went down another foot, and I felt my back press up against the tarnished wall. All I could hear was the harsh beat of my heart and the yells for help from the people up top.

“(Y/N) please! Try again!” I heard Liz yell from above. The situation had become to surreal to me that I almost became numb to it, with what could happen in a matter of seconds not scaring me as much as it should be.

Before I could register anything else, the sound of glass breaking snapped me back into reality. But surprisingly, it wasn’t from the elevator.

Keep reading

Our party is fighting a nuclear family of Royal Sea People, where the Dad (King) is basically a Fighter, the Mom (Queen) is a spellcaster, and the boy (Prince) is a rogue.

The Prince immediately rolls a nat 20 to hide from the party (supposedly to prepare a sneak attack) and by the time anyone rolls high enough to see him, he’s definitely out of the room.

Our Sorcerer uses Charm Person successfully on the King, who then, despite the Queen’s protests, sprints to the kitchen to get him Hot Dogs.

Bard (Ooc): Ok, since it’s just the Queen I’m gonna use Disguise Self to change into the son.

Sorcerer (Ooc): Oh….

Bard (Ooc): What?

Sorcerer (Ooc): Sorry I thought you meant you were going to disguise yourself as like the literal Sun.


Later the Son (Dave) did return and had eaten both of his parent’s hearts and transformed into an eldritch monstrosity; complete with eye-stalks, a side-ways shark mouth, and eight scuttling limbs. Our Bard had history with this kid and was more enraged than intimidated.

Bard (still disguised as the son’s human form): Hey Davey!

Dave: *looks*

Bard (disguised): You should kill me first. I want you to see what you’re gonna look like after my friends kick your ass!

Potential Plays-of-the-Game included: The Ranger’s Wolf criting on a Bite attack, our Fighter stabbing this thing with a found trident and succeeding a strength contest with it, and our Sorcerer’s Wild Magic randomly turing everyone invisible (including the Monster itself).

After our party collectively knocking nearly 300hp off this boss, he was just about down for the count. 

Bard: HEY, DAVEY! *Picks up the crown off the King’s head* 

Dave: *looks*

Bard:  *Puts on Crown* *Casts Vicious Mockery* KING ME.

He lands the final blow. The monster is obliterated. Everyone is screaming. Including the DM. A great time is had.

Day One Hundred and Sixteen

-At the start of my shift, we had a team huddle to discuss store business matters. The first matter, and most important, was us all sampling the new Unicorn Frappuccino. A quality meeting, if I have ever been to one.

-An elderly woman remarked to me that it smelled like something was burning and asked if someone had burned popcorn. As a result, she spent the remainder of the transaction cackling to herself. If she thought that her joke was a funny one, I believe I may have finally found a good audience for my comedy.

-A Chubby Puppy wind-up toy was left at my register. I have named her Juniper and I love her, inability to walk in anything but a circle and all.

-In regards to the card reader before him, an older gentleman noted, “This seems like a pretty nice keyboard. I think I can solve it.” He inspires a great deal of faith in me. I think he can solve it, too.

-An older woman asked me if anything that she had purchased was on Cartwheel. I told her that I did not know off the top of my head, at which point she responded by glaring at me threateningly and telling me that I looked smart, so I had better be sure and I had better be right. Luckily, I know very few things in life, so it is more than likely that Cartwheel offers fall into this category.

-A couple bantered over how much they had each spent. The woman, having bought the most, said, “It makes sense, you are cheaper than me.” After a moment, the man replied, “I’m trying to think of something to say, but you drove and you’re paying.” Not since Machiavelli has one held all of the cards so masterfully.

-A sweet grandfatherly man, sporting a pinstripe shirt that seemed to have been with him as long as his timeless smile, came through holding a purple and yellow rubber ball. He asked me if I thought it would be good for four square before pausing for a moment and asking me if I knew what four square is. Overjoyed when I said yes, he told me of his plans to teach the neighborhood kids and help them be more active. He then said that he was going to go let his friends know that the ball would work. I later saw him with a pair of women, each as happy and smiling as himself. This man knows all that one needs in life, and I hope to one day learn from him.

-A young girl noted Juniper by my register and asked if she could pet her. I naturally said yes, as long as she was careful. Gently cupping the pup in her hands, she complimented me on how soft my plastic friend was.

2

“This Scarlet…you’re in love with her, aren’t you?”
He froze, becoming stone still. As the hover climbed the hill to the palace, his shoulders sank, and he returned his gaze to the window. “She’s my alpha,” he murmured, with a haunting sadness in his voice.
Alpha.
Cress leaned forward, propping her elbows on her knees. “Like the star?
“What star?”
She stiffened, instantly embarrassed, and scooted back from him again. “Oh. Um. In a constellation, the brightest star is called the alpha. I thought maybe you meant that she’s…like…your brightest star.” Looking away, she knotted her hands in her lap, aware that she was blushing furiously now and this beast of a man was about to realize what an over-romantic sap she was.
But instead of sneering or laughing, Wolf sighed. “Yes,” he said, his gaze climbing up to the full moon that had emerged over the city. “Exactly like that.”

Scratching the Itch

Square Filled- Friends to lovers

Rating- Explicit

Tags- Alpha!Dean x Omega!reader, smut,

Word Count- 2300ish

A/N: For @spnabobingo. Hope you enjoy! XOXO


Hunting’s a total blast until you hit your heat. In between each cycle, you only know how much fun it is to catch a case, to get on the road and feel the rumble of Dean’s car beneath you, all open windows and loud music. The fights are always rough, but in the way that makes you feel strong, in a way that makes your muscles ache with anticipation just to think about it. And of course, there’s the feeling of knowing that you saved someone, that you stopped one small little evil and left the world a little better for it.

But then your heat hits, and you remember. Hunting is not ideal for an Omega.

Keep reading

Rap Battle: Anti Vs. Dark

Dark:

You know I rule the Earth, what are you yapping about?

You? Control the world? Maybe you should try a different route.

Giving hints of your existence like you’re Santa Claus,

Yet they joke and they provoke you and that’s all because:

You’re a loser, Anti, he can always shut you up,

Don’t you get it? In his show you’re just a lousy prop.

You say you’re always there, always controlling him,

But, Anti, let’s just face it, all you do is scream.

I took over, I stayed longer and the proof is here,

So why don’t you just glitch away and disappear?


Anti:

You know, it’s funny, you want me to fucking disappear,

But I don’t remember seeing you in the past full year.

So sit yourself down, Dark, and let me show you how it’s done,

With some glitches, and eye itches and a whole lot of fun.

You think you’re scary with your deep voice and shit,

But you can only manipulate your way into a stupid skit.

You’re all bark and no bite, I make the others shake with fright.

I killed the owner of this body the first time I took over

With me around, you’ll wish for that one lucky clover.

I glitch my way into existence, I corrupt the files,

They’re guessing and messing, going a thousand miles.

They’re doing their best, trying to build my personality,

And I keep changing, piece by piece, I’m breaking their reality.

You’re old news, Dark, why don’t you get it, man?

I suggest you talk your way into the trash can.


Anti:

VHS cunt!


Dark:

Glitch Bitch!

Both:

You can’t win this, you better ditch!

This fight is really overdue,

We both know it, and they know it too.


Dark:

You can’t do anything right, can’t even kill yourself,

You say I’m bark and no bite, at least I don’t look like an elf.

Take those earrings off, you’re not an angsty teen,

It’s time to finally wipe off that stupid grin.

Someone should teach you how things work around here,

And for a job like that, I gladly volunteer.

The element of surprise was gone from the beginning,

Sometimes you need some time off to get their heads spinning.

Look into my eyes when I tell you that

You’re acting like a bitchy little brat.

Come on, Anti, just stop with all this glitchy fuss

And let’s see what the future truly holds for us.


Anti:

Oh, I’m sorry, you wanted me to look into your eyes?

With all that makeup on even I can’t see past your disguise.

Wearing suits and classy shoes, yet all you can do is lose.

We showed them who we are, and now it’s their time to choose.

I’m the main event, from down below,

Gave you a ticket, so enjoy the show.

They’re all in the back, I’m in the front row,

You see the truth, so hear my flow.

I’m the only one they want to know,

You’re pretty much a goner, so

You built the castle, now I have the keys

So bow your head and get down on your knees.

You think only glitching is my expertise,

Come on, Darkiplier, wake up, bitch please.


WHO WON? WHO’S NEXT? YOU DECIDE!@therealjacksepticeye@markiplier

anonymous asked:

the gang seeing you all dressed up for the first time

(At first, I thought it said: “The gang getting you all dressed up for the first time” and omg, could you imagine? Like Sodapop is doin’ your nails while the other boys are looking through your closet to see what outfit you should wear.) anywAY

- Everyone’s jaw drops, like everyone. Their heads turn and they all stop to stare at you.

- Steve breaks the silence by WHISTLING at you like “Damn!” and Two-bit starts right after by hollering flirtatious things at you like, “Hey, baby, lookin’ good! I bet you’d look even better in my arms, huh??”

- Ponyboy’s face is beet red and he literally can’t look away. There’s so many things he wants to tell you. He’s already thinking of cheesy love poems to write you and how he honestly believes he found his ‘one true love.’

- Dallas is a sucker for girls being all dressed up so as soon as you stepped out, the cigarette he was about to light falls out his mouth and his eyes widen. He’s like,,, so stunned. Abort mission, he is a horndog, he’s going to follow you all night long and use every smooth line in the book to get a knockout like you. 

- Darry’s become light pink and he’s so speechless. He clears his throat and tries his best to look away but he kEEPS LOOKING OVER, HE CAN’T HELP IT. He wants to tell you how stunning you look in the most gentlemanly terms but he just can’t pull himself together.

- Johnny cannot keep his wide eyes off of you, he’s looking at you up and down and he just wants to smack himself because he can’t help it. He stutters and stumbles over his words when attempting to compliment your appearance. His mind is screaming “Wow

- Soda dead ass makes a move on you the first few seconds you step out. He literally slides over and leans against the wall in a suggestive and flirtatious manner and says the cheesiest fucking pick-up you’ve ever heard.

- Steve and Soda compete each other for you due to bro-code and Johnny is the next to try and make a move and he’s so nervous, he’s trying his best.

Tricks (Part 1)

Request: Hello! How are you? Could I request a Joker x Reader where the he and his friends are arguing about who the most attractive/best with the ladies is and joker ends up betting he can seduce the reader. They fall in love but then reader finds out it was all a bet. Sort of a ‘10 things I hate about you’ scenario haha Thanks lovie

A/N: I COMPLETELY fell in love with this idea this is cute AS FUCK. Part 1 of ??

Pairing: Joker x reader 

Summary: Joker makes a bet he can seduce the reader but finds out he’s met his match. 

Warnings: Sexual implications? Probably swearing? Joker stuff. 

Originally posted by grysamobojcow

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NCT 127 reaction to you falling asleep on them

rest of the reactions under the cut - kept as gender neutral as possible

taeil

Originally posted by dimplesjae

  • honestly he’d probably be running his fingers through your hair while you lay down on top of him while watching tv or something
  • it’d be a while before he even noticed you’re asleep
  • when he does it’s kind of startling because you’re so quiet?? wow amazing
  • “wow”
  • when he realizes he stops combing through your hair because what if it wakes you up or something
  • but then you stir and move your head a little higher up on his chest and he’s like oh
  • so he goes back to playing with your hair and braids it and stuff
  • have fun combing it all out when you wake up lmao
  • your legs and his are entangled and one of his hands is on your back and the other in your hair or behind his head
  • you’re basically flat on top of him
  • he doesn’t want to move too much
  • taeil is like… crazy afraid of waking you up because you must be s o tired and he doesn’t wanna ruin your much needed sleep
  • “ah they’re so pretty”
  • turns off the tv eventually because he’s watching you now and not even paying attention to it
  • wont make any noise honestly
  • eventually he’ll probably fall asleep to the sound of your breathing tbh
  • while you’re listening to the sound of his heartbeat

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