this should have been better

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An Unearned Gift Chapter 25: Hell of a Right Hook, a hakuōki/薄桜鬼 fanfic | FanFiction

It seems even the best laid plans can go awry. Chizuru and Sen try to have a girls’ day out, Souji is just trying to sleep in, and Kodo receives an unexpected and unwanted visitor. 

Hope you all enjoy! This can also be read on AO3 

Weigh in 9/22/17

232.6lbs


Haven’t been as disciplined as I should be and I hate it. I feel like I should have lost so much more by now if I had just been better at controlling myself. I am at a loss for solution. I usually binge if I’m stoned (marijuana is legal in my state) and it helps me go to sleep due to my insomnia. So I either stay up too late and I binge or I get stoned and forget to go straight to sleep and I binge.


Trying to tell myself at least I lost some.

more role switch since ya’ll asked. Figured these one made most sense?


  • Lance went to Kerberos, not as a pilot but as a student/intern of some sort
  • Allura’s father was the pilot of the Kerberos crew and she is on an undercover mission to figure out what really happened to him
  • Hunk dropped out after his best friend being declared dead and hearing a lot of nasty comments about it and followed some kind of energy to the desert where he measured a bunch of energy stuff i don’t know the terms for and found the caves and figured out something would happen and he better think of a plan
  • Shiro SHOULD have been just telling Allura to go back inside but hey is that their old student what the heck are they doing—- Shiro is too good of a guy to not do The Right Thing™ 
  • Keith just followed Shiro and Allura and got caught up god damnit
(all) BTS Ships...basically

[YoonMin] 
smol and smoller
(find out which one in the next episode of cake)

[YoonJin]
Roommate privileges

[YoonKook/ SugaKookie]
“maybe lamb skewers will be our always”

[YoonSeok/ SOPE(me)]
hobi: *breathes*
suga: omG WHY ARE YOU SO FUNNY HAHAHAHAHHAHA

[NamGi/ SugaMonster]
Bro goals, friendship goals, relationship goals, just…goals…in general

[TaeGi]
suga: *breathes*
v: omg so cool

[JiKook]
“i was born in busan first”
“stop copying me omf–”

[VMin] 
“Bro…i luv u”
“im not gay”
“…we’re dating”

[JinMin]
jin: *breathes*
jm: hHHAHJDkhahhwiakHAHAHA

[MinJoon]
jm: *breathes*
nj: lOOk @ THIS ADORABLENESS!!! LOOK-

[JiHope]
jm: *breathes*
hobi: Must Protec

[JinKook]
actual children

[NamJin]
Cooking For Dummies 101

[TaeJin]
someone: jin–
V: hyung’s graduation should have been bigger and better

[JinHope/ 2Seok]
the cooking dance

[NamSeok]
most underrated bro pair to exist like don’t get me stARTED–

[VHope]
*war flashbacks to rookie king ep 4 at the 14:16 mark*

[JungHope]
hobi: *breathes*
jk: ANGEL!!!!!!!!!!!! PRECIOUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[NamKook/ KookieMonster]
“i joined bighit because of you”
(brb crying)

[VMon]
4 O'CLOCK AND RM’S NEVERENDING BELIEF IN V

[TaeKook/ VKook]
“bro, will you be the McCree to my Hanzo?”
“*sheds a tear* bro…”
(kudos to you if you get that reference)


and the ultimate OTP… 

[Bangtan x Army]
bangtan: take care of yourself
army: awww but you take care of yourself
bangtan: no YOU take care of yourself!!!
army: NO YOU TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF
bangtan: taKE CARE OF YOURSELF!!!
army: FUCKING TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF FIGHT US ON THIS ONE–

9
You know what, the ‘suddenly, there’s 5 more Winter Soldiers’ subplot

has gotten a lot of flack, and I don’t disagree that it could and should have been handled a lot better, but even as it is, I really really like what it says, or rather, confirms about Bucky.

Keep reading

7

And Jaspers never break their promises! 💖

person: I have a simple and uncomplicated relationship with both my parents. While they occasionally annoy me, I generally respect them and enjoy being around them. They have always been supportive of me, are never manipulative or overbearing, and their treatment of me throughout my childhood has not caused me to develop any anxieties or other mental issues. I have always felt safe and secure around them, and I trust them.

me: …okay… I mean, that definitely sounds fake, but… okay…

The Price We Pay

A thought occurred to me when I saw the BBC headline this morning of the Queen and Prince William visiting the area of the Grenfell tower fire. A fire that has left 17 people confirmed dead with 76 missing.

Buckingham Palace: Receives £370m for refurbishment.

Grenfell Tower: Doesn’t receive £300,000 for a sprinkler system.

As pointed out by numerous voices, one example being Aamer Anwar, these people died because they were poor. They continually raised awareness that fire alarms didn’t work and lifts repeatedly stopped.

People jumped.

People who were on the lower floors hurled whatever they could at windows to try and wake people up. They are at outside the incident now wondering whether they should have bothered as they think it would have been better if their neighbours had died from smoke inhalation in their sleep rather than in a panic to escape.

Aamer Anwar, human rights lawyer and current rector of Glasgow University, has said that a government inquiry is not good enough as it allows the government to set the parameters. He pointed out examples like the Hillsborough disaster and Bloody Sunday and how the government continually white washes these to make no one, especially the government, look at fault.

He wants an independent inquiry and a criminal investigation. This happened as a result of Tory austerity and cuts to both social housing and to the emergency services. That blood is on their hands.

When Boris Johnson was mayor of London he oversaw the closures of dozens of fire stations. We had Labour leader to Tony Blair, John McTernan, saying that ‘Only 2% of a fireman’s time is spent fighting fires.’ You cannot afford to cut emergency services to save a quick buck. Austerity does not work.

According to Akala, rapper and poet, rich people living nearby complained that the tower block was an eyesore and urged a refurbishment. This refurbishment results in 'pretty panels’ being placed on the outside, according to Aamer Anwar these panels assisted the fire.

https://www.google.co.uk/amp/www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/music/news/akala-grenfell-tower-fire-people-died-poor-london-rapper-block-flats-deaths-kensington-a7790906.html%3Famp

This is an absolute tragedy and it exposes the utter corruption at the heart of government and in Tory austerity policy. Like Anwar, we fucking hope it ends in criminal charges.

Thirteen Kinds of Despair by Lemony Snicket

You may be interested to know that I have categorized thirteen kinds of despair, listed here for your convenience… and arranged by time-of-day, so with planning you may experience all thirteen despairs in a single twenty-four hour period.

The first kind of despair is the suspicion that there is no safe territory outside the warm confines of one’s bedclothes.

The second kind of despair is the sense that even the most elegant of breakfasts is fragile resistance to the oncoming day.

The third kind of despair is finding life as shifty and indiscernible as the Rorschach of crumbs on your plate.

The fourth kind of despair is when the tea is so hot you must leave it alone until it is far too cold.

The fifth kind of despair is the knowledge that with the sun overhead, your shadow has vanished and there is no place to hide.

The sixth kind of despair is when you realize you must close the book you are reading and reluctantly participate in something or other.

The seventh kind of despair is that the sun has set on another day and so little has been done.

The eighth kind of despair is burning dinner in the oven.

The ninth kind of despair is the realization that a bad dinner still creates dirty dishes.

The tenth kind of despair is the presentiment that a darkening sky brings darkening times.

The eleventh kind of despair is the inkling that an evening should have been better spent but that it is almost bedtime.

The twelfth kind of despair is the knowledge that countless others are sleepless with you.

The thirteenth kind of despair occurs at every moment, waking or sleeping, and surely this needs no explanation.

anonymous asked:

I'm going through a real rough patch and if you want to write something cheerful you have no idea how grateful I'd be.

Flash sidled up to Superman on one of the Watchtower’s mezzanines, leaning against a rail. They looked at each other sidelong, then away.

“Wanna hear my new time?” Flash asked sideways, swaying as he alternated which foot held his weight, hands on his hips.

“There’s no way you beat my time,” Superman muttered, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were in the other direction, and both men went silent as the Lanterns walked too close. Superman and Flash gave them a nod of acknowledgment, then waited for them to be at a safe distance.

“Nine seconds.”

“What!” Superman dropped his arms, whipped his head around to where Flash was grinning and bouncing on his heels. “No way.”

Flat,” Flash said.

“There’s no way.”

“Check my heartbeat if you don’t believe me,” Flash said, tapping his insignia with his thumb. Then he frowned. “Actually, don’t, I’m pretty excited about this so my pulse is probably crazy.”

His heart always sounded like an angry hummingbird trapped between his lungs, but Barry was also a notoriously terrible liar, so it wasn’t as relevant as it could have been.

Dangit,” Superman said, crossing his arms again. He leaned back to scope out the area around them. No one seemed to be paying them much mind. “What time?”

“Eleven on a Saturday,” Flash said, looking even more smug. “You know I don’t mess around.”

“Tch!” Superman made an irritated sound, licking his canines. Then he snapped his fingers. “You forgot about–”

“Nnnope,” Flash interrupted. “I’m including the new ones in that, that’s the whole reason we had to reset our times, otherwise I’d still be at seven-point-four.”

Tch.” Superman drummed his fingers against his bicep. “Nine seconds,” he repeated, torn between irritation and awe.

“You know what that means,” Flash said, waggling his eyebrows.

Superman sighed. “Alright, where are we going?”

“I want soup.”

“Uh-huh.” Superman waited. Flash was waiting for him to ask. Superman was not going to give him the satisfaction.

“… in Saigon.”

“You’ve been watching Bourdain again,” Superman accused.

“It looked like really good soup!” Flash said, defensive.

“Fine,” Superman said, “but I am going to beat your time, and when I do–”

“Beat what, now?” Wonder Woman asked, having managed to approach them while they were distracted by negotiations.

“Nothing!” Flash and Superman said at once.

“We were just talking,” Superman said.

“About stuff,” Flash added unnecessarily. “Private, personal, man stuff.”

Wonder Woman’s eyebrows shot up. She was close enough for her lariat to hum on her hip. She looked Flash over. Flash started to turn red.

“Okay bye!” Flash said, and he was gone in a streak of red.

“Superman?” Wonder Woman asked.

“I should, uh. Hal…”

He wasn’t actually making any definitive statements, just stringing words together, and yet somehow it still managed to ring false. She watched him go, putting her hands on her hips.

She could practically sense it when Batman came up beside her, even quiet as he was.

“Do you want to know what they were talking about.”

“Do you know?” she wondered. He said nothing, so she turned to look at his face. It was as expressionless as ever, but she got the impression that he did not consider the question worthy of dignifying with a response.

He was Batman. He would never be so rude as to say ‘of course’ – but of course he knew.

“I wouldn’t want to invade his privacy,” Wonder Woman said cautiously.

“He’d tell you if you really asked,” Batman said. “They just like feeling like they have a special thing.”

“Oh.”

“Flash, especially.”

“I see.” She tapped on her lower lip as she watched Superman talk to one of the Green Lanterns. “So what’s the special thing?”

“Pick me up in the plane on Saturday and I can show you.”

She froze. Slowly, she turned to look at him. As always, being able to see him helped not at all. “Like a date?” she asked.

The corner of his mouth twitched. “More like a stakeout.”

“That could be like a date.” She was mostly saying it to tease him. Sometimes if she did it right, he turned pink and had to find a shadow to hide in.

“It’s usually not.”

“Why not?”

“I’m usually with the kids.”

“Oh!” Her eyes widened. “I didn’t mean–”

“It’s fine.”

She put her hand out to rest on his shoulder. “I would never imply–”

“I know.”

She took her hand back. “I’ll behave,” she assured him.

“You don’t have to,” he said, and she grinned.

“I’ll pick you up at ten,” she said, and she gave him an exaggerated wink as she walked away.

“It’s a date,” he murmured.


Why,” Wonder Woman asked, “are we in Florida?”

Batman was sitting beside her, and the plane was in a low hover. “Because as far as anyone can tell, this is the single biggest and busiest Walmart in the world.”

“I don’t think that explains as much as you think it does,” she said.

Batman held up a phone. A clock took up most of the screen. 10:59. “Watch,” he said, and he pointed out to the parking lot, vast and terrifying and teeming with people. She watched, and she had no idea how she was supposed to see anything in the crowd.

Finally, she spotted it. The motion too quick to be anything mortal. Would anyone on the ground notice anything more than a strong breeze?

“Oh! It’s the–” She snapped her fingers, couldn’t remember the word.

“Carts,” Batman supplied.

“Yes!”

In almost no time at all, every cart in the parking lot had been returned to one of the designated corrals. Batman pointed to something that he must have been using technology in his mask to see, because otherwise his eyes should not have been good enough. Wonder Woman was much better equipped to see Superman, standing beneath a tree and checking a stopwatch and scowling. He did some kind of motion with his arms and one leg that suggested he’d have thrown his hat to the ground, if he’d been wearing one.

“They introduced new carts,” Batman explained. “They don’t fit with the other ones, so it slows them down. Ruined their whole system.”

“They had a system?” she asked, giggling.

“No, here,” he said, tapping her arm to point again. “This is the best part. He’s frustrated.”

That’s the best part?”

“Watch what he does.”

She watched. Superman was gone again, more impossible-to-follow motion through the crowd. Things were moving. Large things.

“He’s fixing the cars!” she said, clapping her hands together.

“He’s fixing bad parking jobs,” Batman confirmed. “Because he’s mad.” There was a brief crooked curve to his mouth.

“He moved that one to a different space!”

“Illegally parked in a handicapped spot.”

“How fun.” Wonder Woman watched the people wandering through the lot, wondered how many of them had noticed what was happening and how many had disregarded it as nothing worth noticing. “Flash is the winner of this contest, then?”

“Consistently.”

“Is there a prize?”

“Clark buys him lunch. Usually somewhere he saw on a food show, since he can’t normally do that.”

“Why not?”

“Hm?”

“Barry can run anywhere, can’t he?” she asked. “I see no reason he couldn’t run to these places on his own.”

“He doesn’t like being alone in foreign countries,” Batman explained. “It makes him anxious.”

“Oh.” She returned her gaze to the parking lot. “How nice, then, that it all works out.” She frowned. “Is this weird?” she asked. “Spying on our friends like this.”

“I don’t think I’m the right person to ask.”

“Do you do this often?” she wondered. “Watch people have fun without you?”

“Define 'often’.”

Wonder Woman held up a finger in warning. “Zatanna taught me a trick.”

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“She says that if you ask me to define the parameters, it means the answer is bad.”

Before he could respond, there was a thump.

Superman was standing on the nose of the invisible jet.

He tapped a knuckle on the glass, until Diana opened the hatch. “Hello!” she said cheerfully.

“What are you two doing here?” Clark asked.

“We’re on a date!” Diana said.

“We’re not on a date,” Batman said.

“If you’re not on a date, can you give me a ride?”

“You’re out of our way,” Batman said.

“Nah, just drop me off in Gotham,” Clark said, slipping inside the plane, awkwardly floating between the two front seats into the back.

“You don’t even need a ride,” Bruce said, having to fit himself as far as possible into the edge of his seat so that Clark would have room to get by. “You can fly.”

“Yeah, and you can walk, but I don’t see you giving up the Batmobile.” Clark made himself comfortable in the back seat as Diana closed up the plane. “I’m craving Dimitri’s.”

“You’re too sober for Dimitri’s,” Bruce said.

“I’m always sober. You’re lucky I can tell this wasn’t a real date, or I would be really creeped out by the whole spying on me thing.”

“Don’t tell Barry we know about your special thing,” Diana said, pulling the plane out of its hover to ascend. “I don’t want to ruin it for him.”

“I won’t,” Clark assured her. “Hey, you know where we should go while we’re here?”

“No,” said Bruce.

“Where?” asked Diana.

“No,” said Bruce.

“Disney World!”

“No.”

Diana gasped.

“No.”

Clark put a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “You can’t have come all the way to Florida just to see me,” he coaxed.

“I’m banned from Walmart, strongly discouraged from visiting Disney parks, and my parents are dead. I have no other reason to visit Florida.”

MMMM tastie improvement fresh out the oven

Remember Vampire Weekend, like where the fuck are they???

3

You More Than Qualify

You gotta admit this was a very sweet scene between these two.

gerard way: *writes the lyrics ‘you should have raised a baby girl, i should have been a better son’*
gerard way: i identify more with women and trans people than i do with masculinity and men
gerard way: i like he and they pronouns equally
gerard way: it’s pretty clear i’ve struggled with my gender but i’m not currently ready to talk about it yet
cis gerard way fans: yeah he’s cis

13 Kinds of Despair, by Lemony Snicket

(From Twitter, 22 February 2017)

You may be interested to know that I have categorized thirteen kinds of despair, listed here for your convenience, and arranged by time-of-day, so with planning you may experience all thirteen despairs in a single twenty-four hour period:

The first kind of despair is the suspicion that there is no safe territory outside the warm confines of one’s bedclothes.
The second kind of despair is the sense that even the most elegant of breakfasts is fragile resistance to the oncoming day.
The third kind of despair is finding life as shifty and indiscernible as the Rorschach of crumbs on your plate.
The fourth kind of despair is when the tea is so hot you must leave it alone until it is far too cold.
The fifth kind of despair is the knowledge that with the sun overhead, your shadow has vanished and there is no place to hide.
The sixth kind of despair is when you realize you must close the book you are reading and reluctantly participate in something or other.
The seventh kind of despair is that the sun has set on another day and so little has been done.
The eighth kind of despair is burning dinner in the oven.
The ninth kind of despair is the realization that a bad dinner still creates dirty dishes.
The tenth kind of despair is the presentiment that a darkening sky brings darkening times.
The eleventh kind of despair is the inkling that an evening should have been better spent but that it is almost bedtime.
The twelfth kind of despair is the knowledge that countless others are sleepless with you.
The thirteenth kind of despair occurs at every moment, waking or sleeping, and surely this needs no explanation.

[Continue reading here, for 13 Types of Hope]