this edit is shit i am sorry

tag yourself original trilogy edition~
i’m 100% herder of nerfs


A collection of all the FFXV phone wallpapers I’ve made 

Feel free to use for whatever ( ´ ▽ ` )ノ


BOOKS I READ IN 2016: Not Your Sidekick by C.B. Lee

What makes you think I want to keep doing that? I want to be my own person, be liked for who I am, not just for copying you!


HHHHHHHHHHH AGAIN WHY DO I HAVE TO SPEND SO MUCH TIME ON THIS only to find out I’m late… And where I am? Just barely late. -w-

So celebrating a certain AfterDeath chile’s birthday, you get wishes from your parents, one of your brothers(I’m sorry, I didn’t have the time to draw any more and it might take a lot of work to edit more in), and your… “friend”(And your actual mom wanting to ship you two(I’m sorry nekophy-senpoi).)) While your uncles are just bickering over the smallest little of things… -w- I busted my ass working on this and hhhhhhhhh I’m sorry for it looking even remotely crappy…

But to sum it all up… HAPPY BIRTHDAY, GOTH(Even if it is late and shiz… -w-)!

Goth and Stick-cat - created by @nekophy

Geno Sans, Error Sans, and Fresh Sans - created by @loverofpiggies

Reaper Sans - created by @renrink

Pix(The skele in the third pic) - created by @sugarbatartwork (Hhhhhh I’m sorry if you’re not okay with me using your chile but hhhhhhh I wanted an AfterDeath sibling to greet Goth and all. And I’m sorry for ruining him)

Palette Roller - created by @angexci

Camisado Demo (Next Door)
Panic! At The Disco

As you sit in your bedroom in the suburbs of Vegas each evening, you can hear and feel the sound of the kid next door’s band practicing feverishly in his garage.  

I do not own this song, but I did make this edit. 

Happy Birthday yurika-schiffer!
… It was supposed to be punk!Daichi but it doesn’t even look like Daichi anymore…

Creepypasta #1007: A Pocket Full Of Posies

Length: Medium

Ring a Ring O’ Roses,

A Pocket full of posies,

Ash! Ash!

We all fall down.

I rose my eyes from the old book to find the store owner – a middle aged lady smelling of powder and cold green tea – looking down at me.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I was just –”

“These books are not for sale. You shouldn’t be here.”

Yeah, no shit. I should be at home watching the game. But it’s Valentine’s Day in a couple of days, and Jill has dropped so many hints as to what she wants as a gift I could make an Agatha Christie novel out of them. So here I am.

“I’m looking for a book,” I said. “An old edition of The Unbearable Lightness of –”

“Did you read anything on that book?”

I looked back down at the book I was holding. It was an old collection of nursery rhymes, pages all yellow and flaky. That’s a problem I have with bookstores – especially used book stores – I get lost in them and I browse and I forget what I was there for originally.

“I – I don’t know. I’m sorry, I didn’t know –”

Did you read this?” She asked again, laying a pointy finger over the page the book was open on.

“Yeah… it's… nice. But I’m not interested in buying.”

She closed her eyes. Then opened them again. “You’ll be able to see them now.”

“I’ll be able to what, now?”

She took a deep breath, like it pained her to say the next words. “Don’t make eye contact with them. Whatever you do. If they don’t know you can see them, you will be fine.”

Okay, this lady’s was giving me the creeps. Time to go.

“All right,” I said. “So that’s a no on the Unbearable Lightness of Being thing?”

She shook her head. “Don’t look them in the eyes.” She took the book from me and placed it back on the shelf.

“Don’t look them in the eyes, got it,” I said, applying my theory that it’s always best to agree with crazy people. “Thank you.”

I turned around to leave and stopped. Standing just by the door, under the little bell that announced new customers, was a little girl in a gown that looked like it was sewed around the time Louis XVI was decapitated.

I paused for a second. The kid was scanning the store with a weird, adult-like expression on her face. Something off about her.

Then I went past her and gave no more thought to it.


Ring a Ring O’ Roses… A pocket full of posies…

All the way home, I couldn’t get the rhyme out of my head. It was like a song, stuck there, except… I didn’t know the melody. But there was a melody in my head, as soon as I read it. Almost as if I knew that song from somewhere, or as if the music was written within the words of the book, somehow.

“Hey, hon, where were you?”

Keep reading

yo, it’s like… 6 am. i tried to get some sleep, but it was bad, fitful sleep (seriously it just made me even more exhausted) ..and also i am now sick from all the rain and shit i was running around in yesterday. im still going to work on things today, but i might be a little slow. thanks for understanding, and sorry if this message is worded weird, i keep falling asleep while typing & going back to edit the mistakes.

Someone changed the sign, again.