we had a motherfucking good time

anonymous asked:

I dare you to tell another story from the apartment


Today, we’re going to talk about the time Paul’s desire for superior firepower turned into a mini arms race that ended with me setting Eric on fire with a homemade flamethrower.

No, Matt Boomer, you sexy motherfucker, I am not kidding you. Let’s begin with some details.

So when I was at the University of Iowa, several people, including myself, bought Nerf guns for impromptu battles in the hallways when we had free time. Mostly this was all good, clean fun, except for two of the guys down the hall, my roommate, and I.

We all thought, rightfully so, that factory built Nerf guns are bullshit. They’re weak, darts are too fucking light, the barrels cause too much friction, which makes them inaccurate and slow, and you have to re-cock them after each shot. That’s some fucking bullshit right there. So we fixed it.

We bought new, higher tensile springs. We bought PVC pipe and lubricant. We put BBs in the tips of our darts, and my roommate and even put in a second spring to automatically cock the gun, essentially turning them from bolt action pieces of shit into semi-automatic friendship-ruiners.

So when I moved back to Chicago, and into the apartment, I obviously brought my Nerf guns (my roommate gave me his when we moved out), and I obviously attacked my roommates the first opportunity I had. OBVIOUSLY this led to everyone buying Nerf guns and modifying the shit out of them.

However, some of us were terrible shots, so certain measures had to be taken to make it possible for them to keep up. Brad practiced in his room every day, Josh built an extended clip for his gun, and Kyle bought the fucking Vulcan and built a 600 dart belt for it because he decided aiming is for people who can’t fire 6 darts a second (he modded it for doubled firing speed using a small car battery and replaced mechanics).

And then there was Paul.

Paul was fucking terrible. Like almost so bad it couldn’t be for real. He once tried to ambush me coming around a corner from 2 feet away and missed by a good 6-7 inches. He literally could have slapped me and he missed. Whatever moving on.

So Paul decides to solve his aim problems in the most Paul way possible: online shopping. He bought 500 foam pellets for a marshmallow gun, two dozen foam discs, and a motherfucking t-shirt cannon.

You see, Paul, much like Kyle, decided aiming was for lames. So he would pour foam pellets into the cannon until it was half full, slip in a disc to keep them from falling out, then shotgun people in the face. I was his first victim and boy let me tell you that shit is terrifying.

So Paul became the big dog in the house during Nerf battles, and the rest of us found ourselves unable to compete. So we all escalated in our own insane ways. Eric and I, the former champions, modified our guns to fire faster, Brad added an extended magazine to his gun, Kyle built a harness so that he could shoot his fucking stupid fucking bullet-storm piece of shit while moving. Josh booby-trapped various parts of our apartment. Suddenly, we were all better than Paul again, so he decided to step his game up.

He started making paper cartridges that would explode open once fired. Suddenly, he could actually fire multiple times a minute, which meant once again, he was at the top. It didn’t help that our reluctance to shoot back out of fear of getting shot was allowing him to take his time, therefore drastically improving his aim.

So we stepped up again. I smooth out the cocking mechanism on my guns, improving my firing speed even faster. Eric adds more weight to his darts, making them heavier and faster and much more painful. Kyle buys a bigger battery, newer parts, and he perfects his belts, which increases his firing speed to 12 darts a second.

So Paul steps up to take advantage of his improved aim and buys something called a Pucker Chucker which basically is a t-shirt cannon except it shoots foam pucks. This means we can’t just shoot at him from the other side of the apartment anymore, so we all step up again. I modify the rail on top to make aiming easier, Eric modifies his grip to make it more comfortable, Kyle and brad modify their barrels to make them more accurate, and Josh jumps on board the crazy train and builds a goddamn under barrel cherry bomb launcher.

And this is where shit starts to spiral out of control.

Brad starts making smoke grenades, Kyle solves his weakness against close quarters combat by using his battery to create a cattle prod to keep people back. Eric breaks the head off an old golf club to use the shaft as a weapon, I put pins in the tips of all of my darts, and Paul realizes that the Pucker Chucker can also shoot real hockey pucks after he steals my bucket of pucks from my room.

So it escalated a couple more steps but I’m going to leave them out partially out of a desire to keep moving forward and partially out of shame anywhoozle when we pull out our final contraptions and modifications that day we shifted from light-hearted fun that was a bit too far to literally combat. Josh had a sword. I don’t know where he got it from.

That battle was terrifying. Our normal fights were like an hour, two hours tops, then we would clean up, get together in the living room with some beers, and laugh about what happened. Honestly we should have known this was going to happen because when we did this after our previous fight, the laughter was less “haha remember when I shot Josh in the butthole? Classic.” and more “haha remember when I missed your face with that puck? Next time I won’t miss.

So we somehow get into a battle again and this time things go south quickly which is bound to happen when you have a dude in a speedo swinging a sword around while rolling fireworks down the hall. It was literally chaos. There were fireworks and homemade smoke grenades and Kyle made the electrical current in his cattle prod too strong and it was too close to the muzzle of his Vulcan so every few seconds you would just see a flaming dart wiz past and I built a fucking flamethrower and I don’t know what the fuck is going on so I’m just firing it in the general direction of Josh to keep him the fuck away. At some point Brad barricades himself in his room, and so we all run back to our rooms and hide.

We do this for three days. THREE DAYS. I missed classes. We all had junk food in our rooms, and private bathrooms, so that’s what we sustained ourselves on for three fucking days. I, however, try to eat healthy, so I ran out of food almost immediately. After not eating for a day and a half, with food literally less than 50 feet from where I was hiding, I decided that I was willing to risk a trip to the kitchen.

So here’s something important about our apartment: I was the only one who knew how to cook. I had tried to teach the others, but all that had accomplished was several kitchen fires. This meant when Eric also ran out of food, he knew the only way to get a meal was to make peace with me. So he had snuck down the hall to my door, intent on asking me for help.

I did not know he was there.

So when I opened the door and saw a crouching figure in the shadows nearby, I assumed, I think justifiably, that it was the guy who had been swinging a sword at all of us the last time I saw him. So I pulled the trigger on my homemade flamethrower, only to see Eric’s horrified face illuminated by the flames for a split second before they hit his torso.

Luckily, I was using a scavenged fuel source (computer screen cleaner), so the flames were weak, but still fire is fire and fire fucking hurts. So Eric is rolling on the floor with first degree burns on his stomach and chest, and I’m freaking out because Eric is my friend and I just set him on fire, so there is now a lot of screaming coming from the hall.

Now, to lighten the mood slightly, here’s a personality test. You hear the sounds of fire, followed shortly by screaming coming from the hall outside your room. What do you do?

Do you assume the crazy sword guy has finally snapped and is going to kill you all, so you climb out the window onto the fire escape? Congratulations, you’re Brad.

Do you hear the cries of pain and grab a first aid kit before sprinting into the hall to help? Hey! You’re Kyle!

Do you hear the flames so you sprint into the kitchen to grab the fire extinguisher? You are Paul.

Do you come out into the hall to see what’s going on but also bring your sword just in case you have to stab someone? You are Josh and also mentally unstable please put your sword away.

So Kyle comes out and he and I start administering first aid and luckily through a combination of the weakness of my fuel source, how quickly I stopped the flames, and the quickness of our treatments, Eric only gets some first degree burns on his torso. Paul puts out the last of the flames, Josh decides he doesn’t want to stab anyone today, and Brad decides that the lack of screaming is a good thing and he comes inside. I spend the next hour apologizing profusely while cooking everyone dinner, and we decide that hey we should probably have some rules for our Nerf fights to prevent this from ever happening again.

So we all eat, we establish rules about modifications and ammunition, and at the end of it all, we grab some beers, head into the living room, and tell Josh he needs to get rid of the sword seriously dude where did you get that from?

as-ui  asked:

Do you have any advice for rising high school freshmen with adhd bc i start school in 2 days an im gonna freak :0

this is the moment where i shine luna i have been dying to give adhd advice. at any given moment, i want to give advice for living with adhd. i love u.

I will try to prevent this from becoming a big wall of text!!

  • TAKE YOUR MEDS. Assuming you are prescribed meds, take them. Do not skip. Do not experiment with your dosage. In middle school, you could get away medsless or w messed up meds and not suffer too much. The same cannot be said for high school. 
    • Messing with my medication schedule gave me 100000% times more anxiety because it 1. Messed with my heartbeat, and 2. It severely impaired my ability to perform well in the classroom. 
    • You will be too busy shaking and fidgeting to listen to what the teacher said. And that in turn will raise your anxiety. It’s a terrible, awful cycle.
  • On that note, always make sure to eat!!! I know that waking up at 6am is the like worst thing in the world and should be punishable under the Geneva Convention, but skipping breakfast to nab those extra 15 minutes of zzz’s is not worth it. I don’t know how Scientifically True this is, but I’ve always found that it’s Really Bad to take your meds on an empty stomach.
    • Also, breakfast is just important?? You’re going to want to die anyway during your morning classes, but you’ll really want to die if you’re starving. Plus, being hungry always makes me dizzy and tired!!! (On that note: Do not sleep through class.)
    • In addition, make sure to eat lunch!!! I always skipped lunch because I’m a Fool and it honestly made me very weak and lethargic and way too skinny. It wasn’t worth it. Eat your lunch!
    • And maybe pack snacks??? Idk man, my metabolism is wack af and I’m always hungry, which oftentimes made me distracted in class. Remember: We will always be at a disadvantage because of our ADHD. Our bodies and minds will take advantage of every excuse to become distracted. If you’re suffering from hunger pains, I guarantee you that your empty stomach will be the only thing your body focuses on, even if you’re in the middle of taking an exam.
  • Stay organized!!! Keep a planner! Make to-do lists! Leave sticky note reminders for yourself! ADHD absolutely FUCKS with your ability to manage time, and yourself, effectively. 
    • I repeat: We are at a disadvantage. It doesn’t mean we’re automatic losers, or failures, or that we should give up before we even start. It means we need to work twice as hard to be just as good.
    • Rise to the challenge and kick everyone’s asses, including your own. Especially your own. Which sounds ridiculous, because I am my own worst keeper, but I’ve found that at the end of the day, you only have yourself. So you might as well as make this bitch someone you can rely on.
  • SET ALARMS!!!!! Always set alarms! Set multiple wake up alarms if you have a problem of sleeping in, and make sure to space them out by a couple of minutes. In fact, put your clock on the other side of the room so you have to get up to turn it off! Set alarms in the bathroom. In the morning, I’m so tired that sometimes I end up hyperfocusing while brushing my teeth. I once brushed my teeth for a solid twenty minutes, it’s really bad. Set alarms/reminders so you don’t do that!!!
    • On that note: Please for the love of God try to leave your phone/electronics downstairs when you go to bed. ‘Oh I’m really tired,’ you say, ‘I won’t go on my phone I’ll just go to bed.’ You are lying. You will go on your phone. You will stay up until 2am on your phone. Do not keep it by your bedside.
    • I personally use an alarm clock to wake up, and then keep my phone with its timers in my bathroom so I stay on track.
  • Try to study!!! I know it’s the worst thing in the world but you need to build up the habit!! It will be essential for junior/senior year and college. 
    • I spent most of high school not studying and while I turned out okay, I didn’t do my best work! Which I’m still really unsatisfied by. Do not settle for B-s, or Bs, or B+s. GET THE GRADES YOU DESERVE!!!! GET THAT MOTHERFUCKING GPA!!!
  • Ask for help!!! In HS, I never asked for accommodations when it came to tests or extra time. I had too much pride, I was embarrassed to ask for help, I wanted to be like ‘the other kids.’ We are not like the other kids. 
    • I keep saying this, but it’s a fact: we are at a disadvantage. If you want to be as good as everyone else, you will have to do everything to keep up and pull ahead. Ask for accommodations. Get the help you need, so that one day you won’t need it.
  • On a side note: You cannot get accommodations on a teacher-by-teacher basis! You need to approach your nurse and maybe guidance counselor first, give them the appropriate documentation, hash out a plan, and then you can bust down your chemistry teacher’s door and say ‘guess fucking what.’ True story!
  • Here’s my final bit of advice: Make great friends, confide in those friends, and rely on those friends!! On my worst days, where I could barely focus on myself let alone any verbal directions given out during class, I knew I could trust my friends to explain to me what I missed. 
    • Obviously, do not 100% expect them to hold your hand during everything. It’s important that you try to be independent. But you shouldn’t feel embarrassed if you need someone to reexplain to you what you’re doing during class time.
    • One of my best friends was in my chemistry class with me junior year. Chemistry labs were… awful for me. I was always very stressed, because there are a lot of little directions and precise expectations and sometimes it can get overwhelming. I’m deathly afraid of messing up, so I often had Alex double check every step I did. I also kept like 2 or 3 lab direction handouts in front of me at all times so I could double-check where I was in the lab, etc.

Again, all of my advice is off the top of my head so feel free to hmu if you have any specific questions/worries!! I will try to help!! I like helping!!!! :3c

Anyway, good luck! You will be fine. But do your best to be great! 

We wrote it in Nick’s room with the blue drum machine and a four-track recorder. I was really lovelorn at the time. ‘They don’t love you like I love you’ was straight from a love letter and I just plucked it out of there because I thought it had a good ring to it. Just a simple statement that really stuck with people. You know, I say 'love letter’ but it was a fucking e-mail. Motherfucker. You know what? I’m going to rewrite history right here. I wrote it with a quill. It was a feather quill, written in blood.
—  Karen O on writing “Maps” in Meet Me in the Bathroom by Lizzy Goodman
Pulp Friction

The drive-in never closed, and Betty and Jughead are horny teenagers

Read on AO3

Pulp Fiction is playing, they’re cuddled up in a big pile of blankets in the back of FP’s truck, and Jughead is uncomfortably hard. It’s not even because of anything in particular – Betty has her head on his shoulder and his hand is on her thigh, but they’re covered in blankets and definitely NOT about to have sex. Jughead knows this, but his perpetually horny teenage body apparently doesn’t. It would be fine, just, he’s wearing pretty tight jeans and the zipper is, like, AGONY.

Keep reading

Today in Sam Plays the Ukulele

I’ve been working on learning to songwrite on the ukulele, because I am aware that I will only ever achieve a certain level of proficiency, and probably at that point I’ll plateau out. But if I can write songs, then that’ll be entertaining pretty much forever – I’m good with words, and even at a limited technical level you can still bang out some pretty great tunes. Lots of very compelling pop and folk music depends on four chords, as we well know. 

Anyway, I thought I would write a song for my parents, because when I visit them in July it’ll be my first time coming home to their new house. So I sat down and hammered out a tune, and after a lot of “Motherfucking, what chord goes there?” I had a decent song. It’s about the journey from the airport to their new place, and then being happy and at peace when you arrive. (Which is a very rosy portrait of my parents’ life together, but you know, it’s a song.) 

But then while playing it I realized that it’s also really explicit directions to their new home. Like literally “Head this direction; here’s where you should stop and get a burger. Then turn off the highway here” down to the street they live on and the color of their house

So I guess I’m gonna be redacting some of that before I finish it and play it for them…

Who should you fight? DeSu2 ver
  • Daichi Shijima: You know, you'd think this boy would be ready to fight 24/7, judging by his idle animation, but nope! Wimpy Wimpson, unless you threaten his friends. Fight Daichi if you really have a bone to pick with him, but will it even be satisfying? I don't think so.
  • Io Nitta: I probably shouldn't need to even tell you this, but don't fight Io Nitta. Why would you anyways? You must hate puppies and happiness and all that what. And even if you had a good reason to (you don't) she could probably completely trounce you and then apologize for it as she picks you up from the ground.
  • Yuzuru Akie: You know what? By all means, fight Joe. Joe will probably laugh it out as you beat the snot out of him. He will, however, complain about you ruining his snazzy getup, yeah that wasn't very cool of you, was it? Total drag, mate.
  • Makoto Sako: Makoto Sako is a synchronized swimmer-turned-law enforcer/demon slayer, do the math and you'll realize that she's more ripped than jeans in the 90's. Also you do remember what she does in the Record Breaker opening, right? Yeah wouldn't want a piece of that myself.
  • Hinako Kujou: Well, considering Ms Kujou is a physical brawler and a master of many kinds of dances, she can probably bend you in half whilst twirling gracefully, and then wrap your sorry ass with the finest Osakan cloth there is. Do not fight Hinako unless you think your back could use some pressure.
  • Keita Wakui: Please fight Keita. I'm not saying you will win, because you probably won't since he's a boxer and all, but please for the love of god, someone needs to fight that kid. Fight Keita Wakui, he'll probably ask you to fight him even if you don't want to, anyways.
  • Airi Ban: She's 15. Do not fight the small 15 year old girl. I mean, she can still kick your ass, as Kama (a God if you recall) can attest to. 'FIGHT ME' is something you're likely to hear often from her, but you'll have to excuse yourself.
  • Jungo Torii: You sick fuck, no.
  • Fumi Kanno: You must be shitting me. You played this game and yet you think you have any chance against her? Oh my god she will have a field day trying to figure out what ridiculous thought process lead you to that conclusion. Do not fight Fumi unless you fancy the idea of having your cranium bashed in by laptop(s).
  • Otome Yanagiya: Otome is a doctor. Do not fight Dr Otome Yanagiya. You don't even wanna KNOW about that time she had to use a scalpel to... you know, selfless people who have chilren to protect are some of the fiercest motherfuckers you'll ever meet. Please walk away.
  • Ronaldo Kuriki: Ronaldo will probably wipe the floor with you while raving about the good of mankind, which doesn't mean I'm necessarily telling you not to fight him. In fact, sure, fight Ronaldo. You can probably beat him by letting his rage cloud his better judgement.
  • Yamato Hotsuin: We all want to fight Yamato Hotsuin at least once, it's like an initiation ritual to this game. He just has that natural "punch me" kind of face, you know? And his personality doesn't help in the slightest. I absolutely cannot guarantee that you won't be eaten by energy dragons, but I support your efforts in fighting Yamato.
  • Al Saiduq: If it's meant to be, you're gonna fight him eventually, so why delay the inevitable? Fight him. You're unlikely to win unless he holds back a lot, but at least he'll be a real sport about it, Bruised One.
  • Miyako Hotsuin: If the sabre and the whip she holds in her default getup didn't tip you off, you're dealing with a Grade A Badass here. Do not fight Miyako unless you wanna say goodbye to being able to sit straight!

Ok fuckers listen up. This boy? Good boy. Amazing boy. 10/10, Crunchyroll Best Boy 2k17.

This guy is almost 11 years old and still kickin, which is amazing considering we adopted him from a tank full of puppies in a cheap pet store. If I remember correctly it was because he was calm and sweet and had a cute white spot on his head (which has melded with the rest of his fur in his old age).

This motherfucker is a born therapy dog. He’s had no training and is an annoying shit a lot of the time, but he’s so good. He’s drawn to anxiety and gives the best hugs. If he can’t reach you he’ll lean against you and if he can he’ll pet you with his paw and play-bite you. A bit gross since he eats his own shit, but it’s sweet.

Today I was having a short but pretty rough panic attack. I must have been pretty loud, cause this hoe? He trots his way over and starts pressing his head against my leg. Normally I’d shoo him away cause I wouldn’t exactly be in the mood to play with him, but I couldn’t really bring myself to do that in my current hell state, so I let him sit there.

Eventually he starts nudging harder and pawing at my shin, so I look up at him a lil bit and he’s looking right at me, wagging his tail and bouncing a little bit from the force of it. He’s adorable. So I pet him a little bit, and he presses his head into my hand like a fucking cat, which was so, so sweet. So I hug him and he butts his head against me, then grabs my blanket in his mouth and tugs it gently down to the floor as he lies down.

I follow him down there, cause what else are ya gonna do when your dog does that? And I’m kind of emotional cause I’ve been crying and hyperventilating and he seems to care so much, so I rest my head on him. And this fucker. He starts wrapping his paws around me and play-biting me like he’s trying to cheer me up. He’s sneezing a bit and rolling around which he knows always makes me laugh. And it definitely works this time cause you know what? I was in a full-blown panic and this fucking ancient puppy tried to help me feel better. Sure, he doesn’t do what most therapy dogs would do. He’s never had any sort of training, he knows what to do but not how to do it. But for a dog to be able to do this on his own and completely singlehandedly get me out of a panic? That’s got to be worth something. I’ve known him for longer than I can remember, and he’s absolutely wonderful. He is, without a doubt, a good boy.

… To refuse to use enslaved child soldiers would have meant denying them their PURPOSE: to die as cannon fodder for a Republic in which they had no voice! Oh no! The horror!

The Kaminoan Prime Minister is a slaver and their opinion of what constitutes decent treatment is worthless. […]

As for what the Jedi should have done, I dunno, maybe the Jedi could’ve flat-out refused to fight in a war to keep planets in a Republic that was corrupt and crumbling anyway, a Republic that

ostensibly represented the interests of its constituent systems but did no such fucking thing in reality. The Jedi could’ve argued that if the clones were ordered by the Jedi, they were the Jedi’s to do with as they pleased, and it damn well pleased the Jedi to free them and ask them what they wanted after giving them an actual array of real options and the means to make an informed decision free of coercion???? (For fucking instance, they could join the Mandalorians, or become farmers, or spacers, or engineers and scientists, or go into government, or work security, or become foster parents, or god fucking knows what else.)

Or they could’ve argued that just because the clones were ordered by the Jedi on behalf of the Republic didn’t mean that either the Jedi or the Republic had any goddamn right to command them, to OWN them, because THAT’S MOTHERFUCKING SLAVERY AND LAST I CHECKED THE REPUBLIC WAS SUPPOSED TO BE BETTER!

Yes, this would cause upheaval and chaos and would probably spell the end of the Republic as we know it. Good. It’s time for a shakeup. The fact that the Separatist Crisis even happened is proof enough of that.

Justice, or order. Pick one. […]

What is legal is not the same as what is right.

People are not swivel chairs. Slavery is wrong even when it is legal. The Republic had no right to own the clones. The Jedi had a moral obligation to resist their treatment as property and to fight for their liberty, their personhood. The Jedi failed to do so.

Better to defy an unjust law than to obey it and leave people in slavery.

We’ve been over this. The sunk cost fallacy, remember? Subsequent fuckups do not make your initial fuckup not a fuckup. […]

–taken from a pithy response by @darth-char, to an argument you can find over here, if you’re curious. 

The only thing I’d add is a link to some background on the KE-8 droids that were used to surveil and police unruly clones. Because Star Wars has always had its horrible, dystopic side. Right there. In the text.

CLYDE: Alright, guys.

CLYDE: I’m super pissed off right now.

CLYDE: As you may remember, from earlier today, I was stuck lost in the mountains with everybody from class.

CLYDE: Well Stan’s cool (kinda smelly but whatever) uncle came and rescued us. Swooped us right from under our feet and whisked us away on horseback. Hair flowing in the wind, and all.

CLYDE: …does he have hair? Well, his hat was flowing. Whatever.

CLYDE: That’s not the point.

CLYDE: All of that was pretty cool.

CLYDE: But the rest of the day– OH the rest of the day.

CLYDE: I am going to explain to you guys just how awful today was, feat. some detailed drawings.

CLYDE: So when we all got back, it was totally cool and awesome and nobody died and it was great.

CLYDE: Scott got to eat, everybody was happy, and it was only about 12:30 by the time we were back in town.

CLYDE: So Craig was all like, “Let’s go play and have a good time and chill and stuff,” or something like that.

CLYDE: And Jimmy said “Yeah that’d be fun!”

CLYDE: So I was like “Hell motherfucking yeah my besties who love me and are cool but also think I am super duper cool also!”

CLYDE: But just as we were about to, we realised we were all dropped right off in front of the school.

CLYDE: And the teachers and principal came out and told us we still had to go to class for the rest of the day, even though it was more than half way over already.

CLYDE: They didn’t seem all too worried that we were lost in the mountains, but I’m pretty sure Stan and his friends got in trouble.

CLYDE: But anyways. As you can see, I am crying my man tears because I was sad that we had to go to school. It’s a Friday! It would have been so cool to have the whole day off. It’d be like a three day weekend.

CLYDE: I was bummed out but then I also remembered Token was at school so

CLYDE: We rejoiced. Craig, Jimmy, and Tweek were also there, but Token and I were what was important at that moment so I only drew us. 

CLYDE: (and also Timmy was there but he was off to the side and just sort of watching us. I dunno what was up with that.)

CLYDE: That was the only cool part of being at school today.

CLYDE: And then, like God himself decided that school wasn’t enough punishment for me, everybody at school was making fun of me for no reason at all!

CLYDE: Cartman wasn’t actually there but I accidentally drew the body too big so I just drew him anyways.

CLYDE: But they all kept calling me a stinky buttface!

CLYDE: At one point I thought maybe they were calling Craig the stinky buttface, because of the awesome note I put on his back earlier today.

CLYDE: But the note wasn’t there anymore. I think it fell off, or something!

CLYDE: And even when I wasn’t hanging out with Craig, they were still calling me a stinky buttface!

CLYDE: I don’t have a buttface! It’s not stinky!

CLYDE: Do you see how well I drew my face? That’s not butt-like at all! Not even a little!!!

CLYDE: And to top it off, even though they were cool enough to give us a late lunch because of how long we were gone, they were serving the worst food of all!

CLYDE: Meatloaf!

CLYDE: It wouldn’t be that bad if we didn’t find out that today was actually Fiesta Friday! BURRITOS AND SHIT, DUDE.

CLYDE: But because they already served lunch, they had to make something quick for us instead! I would have eaten a two-hour-old burrito no problem!

CLYDE: They clearly underestimate me.

CLYDE: After I ate my food and junk, and after school got let out, I went home.

CLYDE: My dad heard about how we all went missing and he felt bad for me, so he said I wasn’t grounded anymore.

CLYDE: That was pretty cool.

CLYDE: But then he said I was only ungrounded on one condition.

CLYDE: It’s always on one condition.

CLYDE: He said I had to take my dog, Rex, out for a walk.

CLYDE: Now normally, that’d be totally fine!

CLYDE: I love Rex.

CLYDE: But half way through the walk, he decided to take the biggest, smelliest shit my nose has ever had the tragedy of taking a whiff of.

CLYDE: And I hate picking up the dog poo.

CLYDE: I know you have the little baggies that make sure you don’t get any on your hands, but you still feel it!

CLYDE: You still feel the dog shit and you can still smell it, and you might as well be giving the dog crap a gentle, full-body massage with how much it feels like you’re actually touching it.

CLYDE: In short– the second half of today was awful!



CLYDE: Anyways that’s what happened today.

CLYDE: But, on the upside, because I’m ungrounded and it’s the weekend now, Craig, Jimmy, Timmy, Token, Tweek, and I are all going to have a slumber party later!

CLYDE: We’re gonna play games and it’ll be rad and I’ll be sure to blog all about it so you guys can see how hype it is.

CLYDE: Until then, though, I’m just gonna be angry for a while.

CLYDE: Talk to you guys soon!

somethings-changing-rearranging  asked:

Who would you say is the best written character? I know a lot of (if not all) characters are horribly written, but if you had to choose one?

Danzo. He’s most underrated villain in this series.

He’s not mentioned as a major villain in the same breath by the fandom as obito and Madara, but his impact on the story rivals them. He’s responsible for the uchiha massacre, the catalyst for Sasuke and Itachi’s plot. He’s also partly responsible for turning Akatsuki and Kabuto into villains. And he did all these shit by abusing his political power, not by physical force, he’s like the epitome of what’s wrong with the village system. 

Danzo’s goals and motivations were more believable and realistic than the doomsday villains like Obito, Nagato and Madara. Danzo was just power hungry, egoistical and evil. Very often, the most dangerous people are not suicide bombers, but politicians who have very very wrong views but are very good at justifying them, e.g. Hitler.

Unlike other villains who’re over powered and have swag, Danzo was just this slimy coward with a superiority-inferiority complex. And this trait of his was very consistent and well written. It’s already apparent when he went into hiding during Pein’s attack while hoping Tsunade would die. He tried to justify his selfish ambition and cowardice by trashing Tsunade and going on a ego trip of fantazising himself as a better Hokage, the savior of the shinobi world. In his flashback, we saw how he’s always a coward when he didn’t have the courage to volunteer for decoy and he felt inferior when Tobirama gave the Hokage title to Sarutobi. Even during his last moments after Sasuke defeated him, he tried to run away like a coward while thinking HE’s the only one who would change the world.   

And most importantly, he had convictions, he never changed his mind or ideals. He’s so deep into his own egomanic savior fantasy, now that’s a villain you can respect.

Danzo’s fight with Sasuke was the most satisfying fight in the entire series. I’m so glad Danzo didn’t get to face Naruto and didn’t get dumbed down by TnJ. The exposition during the fight was also good. Instead of the usual talk about “pain” “loneliness” in Naruto’s fights, we saw Danzo’s hatred, envy and inferiority complex towards the uchiha, it’s entertaining and refreshing. While he was shit talking the Uchiha during the fight, he’s also using the power he stole from the clan he loathed. it’s pathetic. I was laughing when the motherfucker got killed 10 times, each time a sharingan implant closed, one bit of that grotesque stolen power was stripped away from him until he had nothing left.

IMO, Sasuke “killed” the most important villain in the series.

anonymous asked:

One time Flowey McUndertalepants (I swear that's his real name and not me f*cking with him) fronted and yelled "I'm a flower motherfuckers!" as loud as he could. Luckily we were in the body's house alone at the time


anonymous asked:

mmm... I think what JKR was trying to do with the 'wizards don't have racism/sexism,etc' is part 'fantasy idealization of fixing things in our world' part a parallel on how some countries are more advanced in certain things than others (exs. How Europe don't have the rampant gun violence the US have or places like Norway have better education, health-care, compared to US) obviously that concept gets murky in 'wizards vs muggle treatment of NA, and wizards not helping NA when massacred'

Okay so like IA broadly that this is probably what JKR wants to do but I’m really not interested in understanding her motivations right now because - and keep in mind that I rarely rarely use this term on here, so I’m not using this lightly at all - a) this reeks a lot of white guilt to me, the kind that would much rather imagine that an issue has disappeared completely than tackle it head on and b) this shit hits just way way too close to home & answers a bunch of questions I’ve had a long long time that I suspected would be answered the way they were but hoped they would be answered elsewise. 

This is really much much more than “'wizards vs muggle treatment of NA, and wizards not helping NA when massacred'”. I’ve been trying to be dispassionate about this ask and give you a well-reasoned answer but I can’t achieve emotional distance from this right now, so instead I’m going to dump back a bunch of questions at you that I’ve had for some time, that fans have raised in response to this and other emotional stuff for me that’s bound up in this that might help explain why people are so worked up about this.

This is the first and the last thing I’ll say about this, so keep in mind it’s going to be really fucking long.

i. the worst case scenario

Here’s a starter post. Here’s some things to think about:

  • We’re told that wand magic is largely European and used because it’s easier and because it involves considerably less talent and focus than wandless magic. Somehow we’re expected to believe that wand magic spreading into America and the rest of the world is not in any way something that erases indigenous forms of magic, that this process has not in any way been violent, that this has not in any way scarred the psyches of Native Americans watching their magical practices (so bound up in their cultures) eroded and taken away from them because of the wand.
  • We’re supposed to believe that pre-statute of secrecy wizards weren’t puffed up with their own righteous supremacy the way a lot of europe was when they rationalized their conquering wanderings all across the world. That like somehow, these guys just saw this as fun cultural exchange and never thought ‘wow look at these weird folks doing weird shit’ and that never became ‘lol lets take their stuff for ourselves’. Because wizards apparently don’t suffer from the tendency to exoticize and fetishize people and view them as less than themselves /sarcasm/.
  • The puritans were ‘immigrants’ and the troubles they had with the native americans was ‘conflict’. not like you know, systematic fucking genocide.
  • Somehow despite the existence of Scourers, we’re meant to believe that wizards never participated in the slave trade.
  • Somehow despite the existence of the magic carpet ban, newly instituted, we’re supposed to believe that wizards never had trade practices which specifically targeted non western european cultures, that were specifically exploitative in the same way that colonialism was exploitative
  • Somehow we’re expected to believe that the need for the Statute of Secrecy was uniform across the world when the rest of the world had very different relationships with magic than christian Europe did. Somehow we’re meant to believe that fear of dark magic is equivalent to fear of all magic. Somehow we’re expected to believe that the equal application of the Statute across the world isn’t in any way an exercise of power by colonizer countries over other countries. 
  • Somehow we’re expected to believe that isn’t a metaphor for colonialism, because it’s just wizards showing solidarity.
  • Somehow we’re expected to believe Pansy Parkinson calling Angelina Johnson’s braids ‘worms’ isn’t vaguely racist, it’s just a bitchy girl being a bitch.
  • Somehow we’re expected to believe all of this. 
  • Somehow.
  • Despite the contradictions within canon itself.

ii. the best case scenario

Assuming we let ourselves believe all of the contradictions I’ve listed above, and we assume that no wizards are above all of this and there are actually really good reasons for all of this, it still raises a lot of difficult questions. I’m copying these questions from a chat with @zielenna, and keep in mind this is a thing that has been bothering me for ages about the wizarding world:

  • what do wizards do when the muggle world is persecuting people on the basis of ethnicity?
  • what happened in Rwanda in 1995 when hutus massacred tutsis? what happened in the DRC and later when there were tensions in refugee camps? did wizards just…. not participate in this? were they okay with LETTING PEOPLE WITH SHARED ANCESTRY GET BUTCHERED
  •  OR AFRICAN WIZARDS AND BLACK AMERICAN WIZARDS WHEN THEY SAW SLAVERY (whole communities and tribes destroyed and kidnapped from the continent and taken away to be slaves elsewhere) AND JIM CROW (their fellow black americans treated like shit by white people while somehow they’re treated just fine by their white wizard brothers - but their white wizard brothers won’t let them help, won’t do anything to help???)
  • I mean for fuck’s sake what about half the ethnic massacres that took place within Europe?
  • the Armenian genocide? the fucking holocaust?
  • like do jewish and roma wizards just……… ignore what their non-magical brethren are going through? or like do they just go ahead and keep on loving people like grindelwald because as long as we have magic we’re fine!!!
  • from @zielenna - I too am wondering rn how did wizards from Soviet satellites react to USSR fucking up life there for 40 years.
  • also from @zielenna - or how did Polish wizards react to muggle Russians and Prussians wiping off the country off the map
  • @zielenna - because what does it mean, kinship between Native Americans and Pioneers? how are they kin to 1 another?
  • What about goddamn colonialism. The ruination of three (four? Five?) whole bloody continents at the hand of white colonizers. What do native wix from Africa, South America, North America, Australia and huge swathes of Asia do? Are they supposed to find solidarity with white European & American wizards above their fellow kin? Are they supposed to find solidarity with people who probably are more keen on keeping them from getting involved with the very real hurts their country is experiencing because!!! statute of secrecy!!! (like, given the fact that they made rules to keep wizards from intervening in wwi I WOULD NOT BE SURPRISED). What kind of fucking solidarity is that? What kind of kinship is that?
  • Are Irish wizards somehow supposed to ignore the plundering and division and ruination of their country at the hands of the English? Are they supposed to just… ignore the famines and everything in favour of solidarity with the English? (Is Ireland even an independent country in HPverse or does JKR’s paternalism wrt Scotland extend to Ireland as well?)
  • But I guess that’s the same kind of kinship we get from being part of the Commonwealth amirite? A ‘special friendship’. In which the former colonies suck Britain’s dick and Britain pretends colonialism never fucking happened.

I don’t know how to answer these questions in light of what JKR’s been telling us because everything she’s told us so far plays the Statute of Secrecy goddamn straight and assumes that wizards are just going to magically feel kinship across racial and ethnic borders irrespective of whatever the hell their muggle brethren are doing which is just NOT HOW THIS SHIT WORKS AT ALL. 

iii. my lack of objective distance from this:

so here’s the thing. I can’t be objective or dispassionate about this because everything JKR says is bound up in webs with things that other people have said and done, that other media has said and done, that is written into the history of my country and is written on to me in the way I constantly struggle with my identity. 

  • I keep remembering my human rights class people not being able to argue against ISIS because colonialism and their allyship involving preservation of culture over actual human rights & helping the marginalized with their struggles against oppressors even in formerly colonial countries and I could see the caution and the way guilt was written on them & the way my prof kept pushing them to fight for it but no. It just remained that weird cautious kind of guilt where they’d much rather say the correct, prescribed words of allyship than actually engage with the complicated question of rights in former colonial countries.
  • i keep remembering the time my friend sent me a syllabus for history in the UK in the gcse system which described the indian independence movement coming totally out of left field with the rowlatt act in the early 1900s and totally ignoring the fact that there had been tribal movements, constant battles, THE MOTHERFUCKING REVOLT OF 1857, the number of times we’d protested the Dalhousie act, all those struggles were erased in favour of describing it like we were ungrateful and magically rose up all of a sudden like we hadn’t always been fucking fighting against this, like we magically decided colonialism was bad one day and started fighting against the British for no good reason
  • i remember the time my mother was forced into a conversation by a Scotsman who insisted that colonialism benefited us - 
  • the way david Cameron refused to apologize for colonialism, the way Britain still refuses to actually accept its role as a colonial empire and 
  • the way no one knows that dadabhai naoroji estimated the amount of wealth stolen from us ALL THE WAY BACK IN 1910 so we still continue to have conversations about whether or not colonialism had some benefits for us - and this is a mainstream enough belief of the British (sure it was bad but there were economic benefits)
  • the way the economist thinks it’s a fucking joke to illustrate every article about india with ELEPHANTS but they’re totes not racist
  • the way the commonwealth has a ‘special’relationship with the UK but it’s the EU that gets all the actual meaningful economic benefits - we get loans and aid from DFID which we either have to pay back with interest & in currency stronger than ours (so we’re always paying back more than we get) or we do the economic reforms they want us to so that their businesses profit
  • the way our experiences and histories are constantly undermined and interrogated and asked - are you sure it was that bad? Are you really sure? Are you really really sure? But what about these facts? Are you still sure? Are you sure those scars are the result of that? Because we meant well. Because we’re your friends now
  • Wizards aren’t racist because of mutual kinship, its just that wizards of non-white western ethnicities are expected to shut up and not ever experience ethnic or racial solidarity because magic. trumps. all.
  • Fans of colour are expected to rejoice in how super-progressive this world is, which instead of grappling with their experiences & histories head-on, tells them these histories & experiences never occurred, were never real, don’t exist in this world because magic. trumps. all. because somehow wizards of colour, non-western, non-white wizards could turn the other way while their fellow muggle brethren were being slaughtered/killed/persecuted/systematically made extinct/forced to assimilate/starved/i don’t know insert literally any form of violence here. 
  • because magic. trumps. all.

I find it really hard to disentangle all of this from the tweet JKR made & the pieces she’s written on North America, where colonialism is just totally elided, airbrushed, swept under the carpet - even the muggle bits of it - so she can tell a nice linear story. 

So yeah, I’m sorry but it’s much more than a ‘murky’ issue or a ‘problematic’ one, it’s something that’s made me see red, that’s made me feel so angry I feel like crying, that’s just left me really exhausted wrt HP because dear god, I don’t want to engage with this or with any of the Discourse TM that will emerge from this. 

Anyone else wants to add on to this please feel free.

Just Friends Part 2

The much anticipated second part of the imagine! I hope it’s just as good as the first :o


“I’m on my way,” Andy informed me excitedly. He was coming to pick me up for Ashley’s party tonight and I have to admit, I was rather excited myself. I had been thinking about my night with Austin a lot and it was going to be nice to be able to let go of all that stress. I checked over my outfit and make up one last time, making sure everything gave off the right amount of sexy. 

“Let’s do this,” I whispered to myself. My phone buzzed and I checked it to find another txt from Austin. I hadn’t answered any of his calls or anything since I left the morning after. I knew that was horrible of me, but I honestly had no idea what to do.

“Y/N, I’m here!” I heard Andy call. He must have let himself in. I walked into my living room/entryway to find him standing there looking incredibly amazing in his leather jacket and black skinny jeans. “Damn, you look great,” he complimented, giving me a hug and quick peck on the cheek, our usual greeting. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah, let’s go!” He draped his arm around my waist and escorted me to his car. We made pleasant small talk on the ride to Ash’s. It was really nice. Andy made me laugh and smile and forget about everything going on with Austin right now. 

“Alright, you ready to head in?” he asked when we pulled into the drive. 

“Just uh…give me a minute,” I told him, taking a deep breath.

“Y/N, are you okay? You aren’t having a-”

“No, it isn’t that,” I assured him. Andy knew probably better than anybody that I suffered from panic attacks. He was amazing with me whenever they hit so I always grateful when he was around to help. “It’s just…” I paused, not knowing how to put it into words without giving everything away. “Andy, I want to get completely wasted tonight.” He laughed low in his throat and raised an eyebrow. 

“That is fine with me and you know it!" 

"Awesome,” I replied with a smile and a sigh. We got out of the car and headed in, Andy’s arm comfortably around me. 

“Heeeeeey!” Ashley yelled when he spotted us, raising his cup. “Y/N! Babe! It’s so good to see you again!” He gave me a hug which I returned and did the same with Andy. “So glad you guys came. Man, you may have the hottest date here, damn,” he teased, nudging Andy’s arm and winking at me, causing me to blush.

“Hell yeah I do,” Andy told him, looking down at me with a grin. “Come on, lets get some drinks.” Andy and I headed for the booze, grabbing what he liked and walking around talking to different people. We ran into the rest of Andy’s band members and talked happily with them throughout the night. Andy definitely took my request to get smashed seriously. He always made sure I had a drink in my hand. I was seriously feeling good in no time.

“We,” I said, poking him in the chest. “Are going to go out there and show these motherfuckers how it is done.” Andy laughed and finished his drink, allowing me to pull him out to the middle of the dance floor. I kept my hand in his as I began to move my body to the music, pulling him into me. 

“Come here,” he growled in my ear, spinning me to face him as his hands snaked around my waist. My arms laid around his neck, our smiling faces only inches from each other. “You are so fucking sexy.” I bit my lip, looking up into Andy’s gorgeous blue eyes. He smiled down at me and spun me around again, then pulled my body against his.

“I think I like this,” I said, grinding on him. He moved his hips with mine, his hands making sure I didn’t get away. I wasn’t thinking about Austin one bit and it was amazing. “You know, I need another drink.”

“Hm, so do I. Come on,” Andy grabbed my hand and we went back into the kitchen to grab more alcohol. We ended up staying in there to get away from some of the noise, finished most of our drinks. 

“I have a little problem,” I half-slurred. 

“Anything I can help with?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow and giving me a half smile. 

“Well, I really want to kiss you right now, and-” I was cut off by Andy’s lips on mine. It was hungry and passionate and hot. It was more than just kissing, we were making out hardcore and I loved it. His tongue completely dominated my mouth as my fingers ran through his black hair. Andy backed me into the counter and we continued to feel each other’s bodies.

“I have a little problem. Think you can help me now that I’ve helped you with yours?” Andy whispered gruffly in between kissing and biting my neck. I hummed in response. “Well, I’m really turned on right now…” I bit my lip happily.

“I think I can help with that,” I told him seductively. Well, as seductively as one can manage when they’re black-out drunk. I snaked my hand to the top of his jeans, undoing the button and reaching down to palm him through his underwear. Andy moaned and I let out a giggle. Oh, I could definitely help with this problem.

~The next morning~

“Shit,” I mumbled as I opened my eyes. My head was pounding. I felt movement next to me and turned to find Andy starting to wake up. We were on a little couch in a room in Ashley’s house. All of our clothes were still on. We didn’t end up going all the way, which was probably a good thing since we were both super drunk. 

“Morning sunshine,” Andy said, his sleepy voice extremely sexy. I groaned in response. “Rough night, huh?" 

"Why did I tell you I wanted to get wasted last night?” I really regretted that now.

“Don’t ask me, I just did what was asked,” he chuckled. We sat up and stretched out. We stood up and walked around many other sleeping forms on the ground. “Why don’t we grab a late breakfast?”

“That sounds good,” I told him. We left and stopped in at one of our favorite little cafes. Coffee and a small amount of delicious food did us both some good. 

“We should hang out and have a movie day, get over our hangovers together,” Andy offered. 

“I’d like that.” So, we went back to his place and hung out. Andy gave me some of his clothes to wear instead of my party ones. They were big, but I didn’t mind. We had a great time being with each other just hanging out. We binge watched American Horror Story and managed to kill the entire day. And evening. When I finally looked at the clock, it was pretty late. I was laying down across the couch, my head on Andy’s chest.

“I’m really glad you came with me yesterday,” Andy said softly out of nowhere. I turned to look up at him. 

“Me too. I had a great time,” I replied, giving him a smile. 

“So did I.” He gave me a wink and we laughed, my cheeks going red. “Awww, don’t blush! Come on.” I sighed happily still looking up at Andy. He brought a hand to play with my hair. Something changed in the air and we both felt it. Andy stopped and his expression changed, becoming more soft and serious. He leaned down toward me, paused to look in my eyes for confirmation, and then closed the gap between us. It wasn’t a kiss like last night. This one was sweet and soft and passionate in a whole other way. 

After staying that way for several minutes, I broke the kiss and sat up, straddling Andy’s hips. I returned my lips to his, my arms wrapping around his neck as his hands gripped my hips. We deepened the kiss, our breathing becoming more labored. I could feel myself, and Andy, getting turned on. He must have realized this, too, because he stood up, holding me against him, and walked us back to his room. 

“Are we continuing from last night?” Andy joked as we laid back on his bed. I shook my head, keeping him close.

“No. I’m going to remember this in the morning and its going to be a hundred times better,” I whispered, looking him straight in the eyes. Andy smiled, making my heart flutter, and began to kiss my neck. He knew exactly where my sweet spots were (this wasn’t exactly our first time doing this). I let out a gasp as Andy nibbled my collarbone, throwing my shirt aside. I quickly removed his as well, running my hands over his chest. 

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered in my ear. Andy skillfully removed my bra and gave my chest attention, making me moan in pleasure. One of his hands slipped under my panties, teasing me. I dug my nails into his shoulders. Andy removed his hand and pulled off his own underwear, teasing me more before finally throwing mine off as well. 

“Andy…” I moaned softly as he entered and began to thrust slowly. “Oh, god.” He bit my lip playfully and I was going crazy. He picked up the pace as I wrapped my legs around his body, allowing him to go even deeper.

“Fuck, you feel amazing, Y/N,” he groaned. Andy’s hands found mine, lacing our fingers together and pinning them above my head. He gently kissed my exposed neck. “You’re so absolutely beautiful,” he whispered in my ear again, sending shivers down my spine.

“Andy, god, I’m close,” I let out, feeling the knot in my stomach build up as he got faster and faster. 

“Let it go,” he told me. And so I did, my body shaking as waves and waves of pleasure overtook me. Andy followed right after and we rode it out together. Andy pulled out and laid beside me, pulling my body to his and kissing my forehead. “You’re amazing,” he told me. 

“You are,” I said back, meaning it completely. Andy was amazing, every part of him, of us, of our friendship. He fell asleep soon after as we talked softly and I studied his sleeping form. He looked so peaceful, so happy. My stomach twisted with guilt. 

How could I do this to the two most wonderful men in my life?


There’s almost nothing left of the slaughterhouse when we get there.  Just flames and charred skeletons shifting through the ashes.  These weren’t second tier people, they weren’t unarmed and sleeping.  Paula, ‘Chelle, Primo…these were people others looked up to.  I looked up to.  They were people Simon worked with and told me to go to if I got in hot water.  Now they were…ashes.

“Clear what ya can, put out the fire,” Negan sighed out to the group.  “No need ta fuckin’ linger on this fuckin’ shit-show.”

I watch the men go to work; carefully stepping through the rubble to put down the undead, smother the flames, and see what could be salvaged.  The crowbar shifts in my hand, but I can’t bring myself to charge forward with the rest.  I’m exhausted, unable to remember the last time I saw so many lost, so much devastation…the last time I smelt burnt bodies.

“Jesus fuck,” he walks up next to me, neither angry nor amused.  “Can’t fuckin’ follow a simple fuckin’ order to save your motherfuckin’ life, can ya?”

…I didn’t stay in the car back at the satellite and I didn’t do it now.  I couldn’t.  Can’t.  Not knowing I could be out helping clear the dead, keeping others safe, proving I’m more than what’s seen.  “Sorry.”  Even drained, I can’t idle.

“No, you’re fuckin’ not.”

“No, I’m not,” I confess as we survey the damage.  I hesitate, then clear my throat of smoke and ash to press on.  “You didn’t know about Terri, did you?”  I need to know for sure.

“You really gonna bust my fuckin’ balls ‘bout that shit right fuckin’ now?”  His look’s a warning; I’m already on thin ice, best not to press my luck.

“I just…need proof you’re not that big of an asshole.”

Negan chuckles a sigh.  “Jesus, fuck.”

“I feel like I killed her,” I confess.

“Well, ya did fuckin’ crack open her fuckin’ skull,” he gives a hollow chuckle.

Tears threaten to return, but I suck them up with the soot Negan’s boots kick up.  “You know what I mean.”

He looks over, but not quite at me.  “Told Ken to fuckin’ stick her where-the-fuck-ever bodies were needed, didn’t bother with the fuckin’ details.”

“So you didn’t know she was there.”

Negan shakes his head.

It helps, makes me feel better, but only just barely.  I was still the one that spoke poorly of Terri, of her ability to mother.  It’s because of me that she lost her position as Negan’s wife, lost her daughter, lost her security within The Sanctuary.  My big mouth was responsible for her initial death and I was responsible for her ultimate one.  I orphaned Kaylee.

“Ya feel this fuckin’ guilty over a bitch who tried to crack your fuckin’ head open, you’re never gonna be that badass ya wanna fuckin’ be.  Fuckin’…think ya fuckin’ are.”  Negan breaks into my thoughts.  “Guilt’s a fuckin’ killer out here, better to laugh shit off and move the fuck on.”

“Feel nothing and you’re as good as dead anyway.”

He almost starts to smirk.  “Ya tryin’ ta hurt my fuckin’ feelin’s, Schoolmarm?”

“If we’re here to save the world, we need to care about those in it, don’t we?  Even the ones that try and hurt us.”

This time he chuckles as his brows go up.  “You fuckin’ suggestin’ I go fuckin’ easy on the motherfuckers that did this shit?  The shit at the satellite?”

“No.”  This was entirely different.  Terri had reason to attack me, she was scared and angry, she felt betrayed.  These people murdered innocent men and women in their beds without provocation.  “Fuck these motherfuckers.”

“Fuckin’ A, Schoolmarm!”  Negan grins at me.  “You just got fuckin’ twice as fuckin’ hot as before.“

Despite myself, I let out a small laugh as I shake my head.

I get the sense these two are gonna be the one step forward, two steps back, a lot of progress, then a crash and burn kind of pairing, haha!  And all that’s before you add Simon into the mix - he’s coming back in the next piece or the one after, I swear!! - which increases the complications all around.  Either way, I’m having fun and hope you are too, haha!!  (Side Note: I think “I/Lorien” missed a fair amount of Negan’s face-burning punishments due to teaching the kids…she knows it happens, but just isn’t around for it.)

Tagging: @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash, @strangersangel9, @dusty-cookie, @dwaynii @kthnxbyeeeee @cemmia @crzcorgi @negans-network @ericuhlorain @imfuckin-gcrazy @angelfuzzy2 @thewalkingdeadfanatic @browneyesandbadjokes @vizhi0n @smuttwd@superwholoki @stone-met @trashforwinchesters @scarygoodfanfics @negansfavoritegirl @toxic-ink @sillywiseone @wadeyourebarelyalive @jane-alca @despoinak27 @zoesmama2024 @cass-xxo @purplejellybean​ …I THINK I remembered/thought of everyone.  If anyone else wants on the tag list just lemme know.  I’ll also tag this for Negan’s Thirst Squad. 😉

Negan gif from @mypapawinchester  

Previous Chapters: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 , Part 6, Part 7, Part 8 Part 9  Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 …Or go to the Masterlist, lol!

Request: Can you do a fic were the reader is Sam and deans little sis and on a hunt she gets possessed and the boys don't know and she has them rapped around her finger but the reader can hear and see everything that is going on. But when the demon says the wrong thing the boys figure out and exersizes they demon which really badly hurts the reader and Dean and Sam freak out thinking she is going to die but then she gets better and it is fluffy and cute. Thanks

You hated demons; they were rude, obnoxious, and just plain evil. You even liked Lucifer more than them! That should say something about how horrible they were. But, nonetheless, you were walking around an abandoned warehouse, looking for some bitch who’d been killing tons of people. 

You had all decided to split up, and you were in the basement, trying not to vomit from the smell of decaying bodies. Why the hell did the demon even keep the corpses? It’s not like the meat suits were helpful once they started to go bad! Demons, man.

You gagged slightly as you saw one bloated, bloody body, and turned your head away from it. You could handle gore and blood any day, but once puss and all that gross green stuff got added, you had to hold down your food. 

“What’s the matter? The big, bad hunter scared of a little blood?” A voice taunted, and you spun on your heels. It definitely came from behind you. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I scare you?” The voice continued, and you started to follow it. 

“Bitch, the only thing I find scary is the creepy ass fetishes you got going on here. I mean, I’ve heard of necrophilia, but at this point it’s just a million times grosser.” You mocked, hoping to annoy her and draw her out. 

Well, you succeeded. Without even so much as a warning, a body slammed into you, making you fall to the ground. A weight pressed against your stomach, preventing you from rolling over to face the attacker. 

“You’re gonna pay for that.” The demon growled in your ear. She began patting you all over, trying to find a weapon. You always kept your knife in your inside jacket pocket, and prayed you could move your hand enough to grab it. But the demon had other plans. “Oh, honey, that tattoo is just the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen! Let me help you with that.” She offered in a sweet voice. 

You tried rolling around, you desperately needed to get away, she could not burn your antipossession tattoo. “Sam! Dean!” You yelled, but then she threw a hand over your mouth.

“Oh, you’re a Winchester? This is gonna be better than I thought!” Then you felt a burning pain in your back, right where your tattoo was. Your screams were muffled by her hand. 

You barely had time to catch your breath before the black smoke poured into your mouth. You tried closing it, but then she went up your nose, and got in any way she could. Once the black smoke cleared, you watched in horror as your body moved without your consent. 

Get the hell out of me, or I swear I’ll-

“You’ll what? Honey, in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m in the captain’s chair. You’re just along for the ride. Now hush, I need to make this convincing.” She said, dismissing you. You tried to gain control, but nothing would respond to you. 

You watched yourself run up the stairs leading to the main room, suddenly you started breathing strangely, like you were hyperventilating. “Sam! Dean!” You voice called, shaking slightly. 

“Y/N?” Dean called back, and you heard footsteps running towards you. 

Get away! You tried to warn Dean, but you said nothing.

“What’s wrong?” Dean asked, coming to your side. You felt him place an arm protectively over you shoulder.

“There… There are just so many dead people.” Your voice cried, then leaned into Dean. Tears rolled down your cheeks; damn this demon was a great actress. 

“Hey, it’s alright. We’ll find the bitch that did this.” Dean soothed you, or rather, the demon. 

“Hey, what’s going on?” Sam asked, joining you and Dean. Sam cupped your face gently and started wiping the tears away, like the caring brother he always was. 

“I’m sorry. It’s just…. I’ve never seen so many dead people. They must’ve been so scared.” You said, sniffling. 

Sam and Dean will know something’s up, I never cry! You thought, and you felt the demon smirk at you. 

“It’s alright. We can get out of here. Dean and I’ll come back later.” Sam suggested, placing a hand on your back and guiding you to the Impala. 

“Thanks, guys. I love you.” You said, wiping the tears away. You tried yelling out, even making a single facial tick would have been some comfort, but you could do nothing. 

With Dean’s arm still protectively around you, he opened the back door and let you in the Impala, then jumped to the drivers seat. Sam got in the passenger side and gave you a concerned glance. “Are you guys hungry? ‘Cause I’m starving.” Sam said, smiling at you.

You felt your mouth turn up slightly as the demon offered him a small smile. “I’m a little hungry.” You felt yourself say quietly.

“There’s a diner up the road.” Sam told Dean, who sped in the direction Sam pointed out to him. 

“I hope they’ve got pie.” Dean muttered, throwing you a playful look. 

“We should just do pie for lunch.” Your voice said. 

Sam would never go for that. You scoffed in your head.

“Sure! Sounds good.” Sam agreed, and if you had control over your body your jaw would have dropped. 

“I knew there was a reason you were my favorite sibling.” Dean laughed, winking at you through the mirror. 

it took only ten minutes to get to the diner, and the whole time you were cursing and shouting inside your mind, but the demon kept control of your body. You couldn’t so much as lift a finger. 

You motherfucking- You started to threaten.

Yeah, yeah. If you’ve said it once, you’ve said it a thousand times. The demon thought back, and you could feel the eye roll she was giving you. Does it hurt that your brothers can’t even tell that I’m a demon? That they don’t even notice the difference? How about them treating me better than they’ve ever treated you? 

You probably would have cried if you could. It hurt. It stung like a bitch. The pain of your brothers not knowing that a demon was controlling your body was the worst pain you’d ever felt, and you’d had your fair share of injuries. You didn’t reply to the demon, how could you? She chuckled in triumph as you remained silent. 

“Pie time!” Dean exclaimed, jumping out of the Impala. You watched your body follow him, and soon you were sitting at a table looking at Sam and Dean.

“Good afternoon! I’m Sim, I’ll be your waitress today. What can I get you?” Your peppy waitress asked. You could feel the demon roll her eyes internally, and she bit back a snappy response. Apparently demons hated happy people.

“What kind of pie do you have?” Your voice asked.

“Apple, cherry, and key lime.” She answered, smiling.

“I’ll have the cherry pie.” Your voice stated. You held back any feelings of triumph; Sam and Dean knew apple pie was your favorite. The demon had no idea about the mistake she’d just made.

“I’ll take apple.” Dean told the waitress, seemingly unfazed.

“Key lime for me.” Sam decided, and the waitress walked away.

You watched your brothers intensely. You tried to find any sign that they knew something was wrong, but they made none. “When does that book you keep talking about come out?” Sam asked, taking a sip of his water. 

Are you kidding me? I’ve said a thousand fucking times that it comes out next month! You shouted in your mind, praying the demon couldn’t perceive the deception. The book came out next Tuesday, and your brothers definitely knew, you’d only said it a million times. 

“About a month.” Your voice stated, a bit of excitement mixed in. She was a terrific actress. In fact, if you weren’t gonna kill her later, you’d have nominated her for an Oscar.

“We’ll have to go to a book store and get it for you. Maybe we’ll stop in Poughkeepsie, I know you love the book store there.” Dean suggested. 

He said it. He said the safe word. He knew something was wrong. Praise Jesus! “That’d be great!” Your voice exclaimed, and the waitress returned with the pies. 

Now that you knew your brothers were suspicious, you picked up on how tense they were. They still talked, and if you didn’t know any better you’d assume everything was just terrific. The hardest part of the meal was keeping your thoughts from the demon. If she knew that Sam and Dean knew, she’d probably kill them. You couldn’t let that happen. In order to shield your thoughts, you just kept thinking a string of profanities, going in alphabetical order, then starting over when you ran out of curses. 

You watched your body saunter into the bunker, feeling powerful and invincible. “Y/N, can you help me real quick?” Dean asked, heading towards the dungeon. 

You started shouting the curses, knowing that if you stopped for an instant your thoughts would betray you. The demon shrugged and followed Dean. 

“What do you need?” You voice asked, walking into the room and standing in front of Dean.

“Shit, I forget. Sorry.” Dean said, then stood in the doorway. 

You could feel the demon’s annoyance inside you, and smiled internally. She rolled your eyes and walked towards Dean, but stopped right in front of him. “What the-” She started, looking around the room. Your eyes fell on the Devils Trap, and anger bubbled through her stomach. “How did you figure it out?” She demanded.

“You chose the wrong flavor of pie. And you didn’t know when her book comes out.” Dean stated. 

“Her book… You lied to me!” She shouted, aiming her words at you. 

“Sammy! Time to get the bitch out.” Dean yelled, and Sam joined Dean in the doorway.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. You’ll be okay.” Sam assured you, then started reading through the exorcism. 

You’d heard it a million times, and recited it mentally along with Sam. You felt your face contort in pure rage, an animalistic growl erupting from your throat. But that all stopped once the black smoke started pouring out of your mouth. 

It hurt. It felt like throwing up hydrochloric acid while somebody stabbed your throat. Tears welled in your eyes, and you fell to your knees. You raised your hand to your throat, and it actually went there. You took a big comfort in having control again, and knew you could make it. 

The last bit of smoke exited your mouth, and you fell to your side. You kept trying to bring air in, but you just couldn’t get enough oxygen. Eventually, darkness started to cloud your vision, and you passed out. 


You woke up with a burning throat and pounding headache. You were in your room, tucked safely beneath your covers. You raised your hand and pushed a loose piece of hair back, reveling in having control over yourself once more.

You placed your hand back by your side, and hit something hairy. Sam. He was laying with his head on your bed, hair falling everywhere. You smile lightly, and then noticed Dean on your other side, his hand protectively holding yours. 

You didn’t want to wake them, they looked so peaceful, but your throat was burning and you needed water. “Guys.” You croaked, but they didn’t stir. “Sam, Dean.” You said, a little more forcefully, but still they remained still. “Jesus Christ, can you guys get up!” You shouted, and both your brothers’ heads snapped up. 

“Hey!” Dean greeted you, placing a hand on your face.

“How you feeling?” Sam asked.

“I’d feel a lot better if I had some water.” You told them, and Sam ran to get you one. 

“I’m sorry-” Dean started.

“Don’t worry about it.” You interrupted as Sam brought you a water. You drank it greedily, a bit of water dribbling down your chin. 

“Y/N, we should have known. I can’t believe how long it took us to-” Sam began.

“It’s okay. You figured it out in the end, that’s what matters.” You assured them.

“But-” Both your brothers said at the same time.

“Relax! My God, it could have been a lot worse.” You said, then added, “But I am a little annoyed that you let her have pie for lunch. You never let me do that." 

"We thought you were upset about a hunt!” Sam defended.

“Whatever. You owe me pie. Apple. With ice cream.” You stated.

“That’s a fair price.” Dean agreed, smiling.

“Oh, you’re not getting any pie. It’s all for me. That’s your punishment.” You told him. 

“What? That’s not humane!” He shouted. 

“And Sam, I’m hiding your laptop the next chance I get.” You said.

“You have every right to be mad at us, but that’s a little unfair.” Sam said.

“Unfair? You know what’s unfair? Not getting my favorite type of pie because my brothers are too stupid to notice a demon is possessing me!” You exclaimed.

“We’re never gonna hear the end of this, are we?” Dean asked.

“Nope!” You exclaimed, taking a sip of your water. Sam and Dean rolled their eyes and groaned. But you didn’t feel bad, it was only fair.

(I hope you like it!)

I just don’t get it… 

LIke, I’m not saying this show its perfect because nothing is, but I don’t get ton of things about the people’s reactions sometimes.

They seem to suffer more than enjoy it, and I don’t mean the suffering we have for the crying n’ feels, but because they really sound like they hate the show. 

Ok don’t get me wrong, again, I understand where the complains are coming… some of the time, but isn’t this like… too much? Again, I understand it and such… its just that..

Why are we getting so harsh on SU, again?

Yes, Pearl has more episodes than the other gems, why is suddenly everyone pointing this shit out? I’ve knew it since season 1, why nobody fucking cared about it at season 1? I pointed it out a lot on those times, people that TODAY I see complaining about this told me to shut up. 

Yeah, what happened with Bismuth its awful, but Bismuth its not cracked, SHE’S BUBBLED, and remember when Centipeedle got bubbled in season one and got back on season -motherfucking- THREE and made a good point and had an incredibly great episode? what is telling us that Bismuth its NOT coming back? This show never leaves points behind, it has a great continuity if you notice, they are not going to forget about Bismuth. As someone who has been living in a country filled with wars for more than 60+ years, I KNOW that sometimes killing the enemies its not the answer, and even tho I love Bismuth, Rebecca is clearly sending a message of peace in other ways, something that I, again, respect, because its the only way my country can be free.

And what about Jasper? She is corrupted now, probably going to work as a motivation for one of the crystal gems.

Really, what the fuck happened? I hate sounding so mad about this, but this is the first (or the one that has developed it the best) cartoon with:

  • wlw relationships that are not confirmed off-canon.
  • Good metaphors/Lessons about abuse, self-love, mental illnesses, etc.
  • Good amount of different body-shapes and POC characters
  • Well use of questioning morality
  • Coping with the lost of a loved one
  • The horrors of war and how their consequences stay even when the war its over
  • Redemption its a strong point and its made amazingly well (Peridot’s arc felt natural, thats super hard to do) 
  • The writing of a child (you know how hard it is to make a kid that feels HUMAN and natural? well, Steven its the best kid I’ve seen in the story of animation, the most natural one, thats hard af) 

Why are we being so harsh on it? because its NOT perfect? nothing is… I really don’t know why people is starting to push further and further the show into looking bad, its almost like they don’t enjoy looking at it, and they just do it for a kind of job?.

Again, the show is flawed, but personally its getting tiring and out of hand that sometimes we even try to show an UNFINISHED ARC as a bad point, its not finished, jesus…. 

All the songs from our last album, Too Weird To Live, Too Rare To Die!, were about Las Vegas and growing up in Vegas. Each is about something that happened to me in the past—this is about the first threesome I ever had. I was 16 and I had these friends and I was partying. It didn’t seem weird to me at all that they were just my friends but then sometimes we would fuck.

It was midnight, maybe 11 pm, and these girls were together, their parents were gone. So they said, “Hey, we’re having a sleepover, why don’t you come over and hang out?” I was like, “Fuck yeah, why not?” So I went over there and walked into the house and we ended up walking straight into the bedroom and one of the girls just started making out with me. Then it grew from there and they both just started to discover what this was, experimenting. It was awesome and it was one of the first times that I realized “oh, you can be friends with benefits and it’s not weird.” We were friends for like a year-and-a-half after that maybe.

I have had a threesome with a guy, too. The guy and I didn’t do anything., I am straight but I can be like, that is a beautiful man. I mean, I might kiss that dude on the mouth. Watching Drive, I am like Ryan Gosling is a sexy motherfucker. That is a good-looking dude, and his charisma, I am attracted to that. That is an awesome guy. I would make out with that guy. I don’t think he knows who I am. But yeah, that is one example of like— Dear Mr. Gosling, would you kiss me? Justin Timberlake—there are all these sex symbols that are men and I can agree and admit that those are beautiful men. George Clooney is an older, beautiful man. He has got the distinguished salt and pepper hair, you know? But only if he dresses like the Oh Brother, Where Art Thou? character. The Dapper Dan man.

—  Brendon Urie (about Girls/Girls/Boys) on genuis
30. - You Were the One so it Was Worth it.

I can’t get over you, no
Baby I don’t wanna let go, no
Girl you need to come home
Girl come back to me
‘Cause girl you made it hard to breathe
When you’re not with me.


Walking along side my brother, we headed down the busy Manhattan sidewalk as we fought against the harsh, cold winds. Despite it already being 11 in the morning, people in business attire still rushed around trying to get to their offices and out of the blizzard.

“This it?”, Raheem questioned as we stopped in front of a 18 story building that was right opposite of central park. “Yea I think so bruh”, I nodded my head as I allowed my eyes to run over the expensive looking building that no doubt cost an arm and leg to live in.

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