why had i not made this yet

2

The Boss absorbed the anger from Charles and began to explain:

“I thought you could use some company. Others of your own kind.”

“They are not ‘my kind’. Just because they LOOK sort of like me, does not mean we will get along.”

YOU were my kind of people, Charles thought. 

The Boss knew what was in his heart.

“I am still everything you thought made me your kind of person. But I am other things too. Psychopomp. Trickster. You have some trickster in you, Charles. Don’t you sometimes like to unsettle people? Isn’t it amusing to do so? “

“He sure does like to scare people,  especially ME and thats why I don’t like him.” Dahlarz called from the kitchen.

He had not yet noticed the sudden color change of the plants outside. A portent. 

The Parent was not amused by the Primary Caretaker’s antics. 

Some changes would be happening.

It was time, once again.

2

“It cut through me like a knife.”

Deku’s face says it all. He’s so hurt he had to look above and stutter.  Sad, sad chapter. I cried. And I cried more when All Might said it was Midoriya who changed him and made him cling to life. It’s so sweet yet lonely to hear those words from someone like the Symbol of Peace. 

Why you do this to us, Horikoshi-sensei???

2

I made myself the way I was. I mean bit by bit and step by step and day by day. I don’t know why. I don’t know what spurred me to do it.

There was a time, way back, when I felt deep, deep guilt about even the very thought of harming someone. And yet for some reason I had a desire to condition that out of me. And I did, day by day by day. Conditioned it out on an abstract level.

And when it got down to actual cases, I conditioned that out of myself, too.” - Ted Bundy

kristsune  asked:

16 and sterek maybe?? :D

16. “Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

The dates are perfect. Nights spent curled up on the couch watching their favorite movies. Afternoons out discovering restaurants neither had been to before for lunch. Entire weekends sharing each other with the rest of the pack and growing ever closer and closer and closer…

Stiles has no complaints. He’s never before thought he could enjoy spending so much time with Derek. Yet here he is, constantly moving his schedule around to fit Derek in at every available opportunity. He doesn’t even really mind that they haven’t made whatever is going on between them official. It’s nice to just take it easy for once.

But still he has that voice in the back of his head. The one that wonders why Derek never seems to want to initiate contact. That worries when Derek purposely angles his face to avoid a kiss. Stiles can’t help but doubt that Derek even really likes him at all.

“You know that’s not true, Stiles,” Derek argues, looking more hurt than angry at Stiles’ comment.

“Then why haven’t you kissed me yet? Why won’t you hold my hand or even hug me? We are dating right?” Stiles says.

“Because every time I kiss someone they seem to end up dead!” The air around them rings in silence for a long moment. “Or they try to kill me. Most of the time it’s both.”

Derek is staring at the ground with his jaw clenched and hands drawn into fists at his sides. Stiles watches him long enough to see his shoulders lift higher and higher with tension until he can’t take it anymore and he steps up to Derek. He reaches slowly toward Derek’s hands, running his fingers softly along the white knuckles. There’s blood smeared across his palms and the tips of his fingers when Stiles pulls apart Derek’s fists, but he ignores it.

“Okay,” he says finally, voice just louder than a whisper.

Derek’s heavy brow furrows in confusion but relaxes when he sees Stiles’ face. 

“We can wait. Or we don’t ever have to,” Stiles says, swallowing the thickness built up in his throat. “You choose the pace.”

He goes to slip his hands out of Derek’s, but Derek grabs them before he can, squeezing them between his warm fingers. Stiles smiles at that, letting his arms hang loose in front of him. With soft gazes and joined hands, they come to a silent agreement.

A Note From Gerard Way about My Chemical Romance's breakup if you haven't read it yet

A note from Gerard Way about My Chemical Romance’s breakup:

A Vigil, On Birds and Glass.
I woke up this morning still dreaming, or not fully aware of myself just yet. The sun poked through the windows, touching my face, and then a deep sadness overcame me, immediately, bringing me to life and realization- My Chemical Romance had ended.
I walked downstairs to do the only thing I could think of to regain composure-
I made coffee.
As the drip began, in that kind of silence that only happens in the morning, and being the only one awake, I stepped outside my home, leaving the door open behind me. I looked around and began to breathe. Things looked to be about the same- a beautiful day.
As I turned to step back into the house I heard sound from within, a chirp and a rustle. And I noticed a small brown bird had flown into the library. Naturally, I panicked. I knew I had to see the bird to safety and I knew I had to retain the order of things in our home, and he very well couldn’t take up residency with us. I chased him (still assuming he was a he) into my office, where I have these very large windows.
Just then, and luckily, I heard Lindsey’s footsteps coming down the stairs, and naturally being composed as she is, she grabbed a blanket and stepped into the office. He was impossible to catch, and I began to open the windows, via Lindsey’s direction, only to find out they were screened. The bird began to fly into the glass, over and over and in all different directions.
Smack.
Smack.
Smack!
I heard another set of footsteps, Bandit’s, running down the stairs in anticipation of the new day. Her entrance into the situation caused just the right amount of chaos (she was very excited to meet the bird) and we found ourselves chasing the bird into the living room. Knowing that this where it could potentially get sticky, being the high ceilings and the beams to perch on, I opened the front door as Lindsey did her best to encourage our new friend out the door. After some coaxing, flying, chirping, a wrong turn back into the library and a short goodbye to Bandit, he simply hopped out the front door- taking off on the fifth leap.
We cheered.
I was no longer sad.
I didn’t realize it, but I stopped being sad the minute that bird had come into my life, because there was something that needed doing, a small vessel to aid and an order to keep. I closed the door. I decided to write the letter I always knew I would.

[[/MORE]]

It is often my nature to be abstract, hidden in plain sight, or nowhere at all. I have always felt that the art I have made (alone or with friends) contains all of my intent when executed properly, and thus, no explanation required. It is simply not in my nature to excuse, explain, or justify any action I have taken as a result of thinking it through with a clear head, and in my truth.
I had always felt this situation involving the end of this band would be different, in the eventuality it happened. I would be cryptic in its existence, and open upon its death.

The clearest actions come from truth, not obligation. And the truth of the matter is that I love every one of you.
So, if this finds you well, and sheds some light on anything, or my personal account and feelings on the matter, then it is out of this love, mutual and shared, not duty.
Love.
This was always my intent.

My Chemical Romance: 2001-2013

We were spectacular.
Every show I knew this, every show I felt it with or without external confirmation.
There were some clunkers, sometimes our secondhand gear broke, sometimes I had no voice- we were still great. It is this belief that made us who we were, but also many other things, all of them vital-
And all of the things that made us great were the very things that were going to end us-

Fiction. Friction. Creation. Destruction. Opposition. Aggression. Ambition. Heart. Hate. Courage. Spite. Beauty. Desperation. LOVE. Fear. Glamour. Weakness. Hope.

Fatalism.

That last one is very important. My Chemical Romance had, built within its core, a fail-safe. A doomsday device, should certain events occur or cease occurring, would detonate. I shared knowledge of this “flaw” within weeks of its inception.
Personally, I embraced it because, again, it made us perfect. A perfect machine, beautiful, yet self aware of it’s system. Under directive to terminate before it becomes compromised. To protect the idea- at all costs. This probably sounds like something ripped from the pages of a four-color comic book, and that’s the point.
No compromise. No surrender. No fucking shit.

To me that’s rock and roll. And I believe in rock and roll.

I wasn’t shy about who I said this to, not the press, or a fan, or a relative. It’s in the lyrics, it’s in the banter. I often watched the journalists snicker at mention of it, assuming I was being sensational or melodramatic (in their defense I was most likely dressed as an apocalyptic marching-band leader with a tear-away hospital gown and a face covered in expressionist paint, so fair enough).
I’m still not sure if the mechanism worked correctly, because it wasn’t a bang but a much slower process. But still the same result, and still for the same reason-

When it’s time, we stop.

It is important to understand that for us, the opinion on whether or not it is in fact time does not transmit from the audience. Again, this is to protect the idea for the benefit of the audience. Many a band have waited for external confirmation that it is time to hang it up, via ticket sales, chart positioning, boos and bottles of urine- input that holds no sway for us, and often too late when it comes anyway.

You should know it in your being, if you listen to the truth inside you. And voice inside became louder than the music.

Now-
There are many reasons My Chemical Romance ended. The triggerman is unimportant, as was always the messengers- but the message, again as always, is the important thing. But to reiterate, this is my account, my reasons and my feelings. And I can assure you there was no divorce, argument, failure, accident, villain, or knife in the back that caused this, again this was no one’s fault, and it had been quietly in the works, whether we knew it or not, long before any sensationalism, scandal, or rumor.

There wasn’t even a blaze of glory in a hail of bullets…

I am backstage in Asbury Park, New Jersey. It is Saturday, May 19th, 2012 and I am pacing behind a massive black curtain that leads to the stage. I feel the breeze from the ocean find its way around me and I look down at my arms, which are covered in fresh gauze due to a losing battle with a heat rash, which had been a mysterious problem in recent months. I am normally not nervous before a show but I am certainly filled with angry butterflies most of the time. This is different- a strange anxiety jetting through me that I can only imagine is the sixth sense one feels before their last moments alive. My pupils have zeroed-out and I have ceased blinking. My body temperature is icy.
We get the cue to hit the stage.

The show is… good. Not great, not bad, just good. The first thing I notice take me by surprise is not the enormous amount of people in front of us but off to my left- the shore and the vastness of the ocean. Much more blue than I remembered as a boy. The sky is just as vibrant. I perform, semi-automatically, and something is wrong.
I am acting. I never act on stage, even when it appears that I am, even when I’m hamming it up or delivering a soliloquy. Suddenly, I have become highly self-aware, almost as if waking from a dream. I began to move faster, more frantic, reckless- trying to shake it off- but all it began to create was silence. The amps, the cheers, all began to fade.

All that what left was the voice inside, and I could hear it clearly. It didn’t have to yell- it whispered, and said to me briefly, plainly, and kindly- what it had to say.

What it said is between me and the voice.

I ignored it, and the following months were full of suffering for me- I hollowed out, stopped listening to music, never picked up a pencil, started slipping into old habits. All of the vibrancy I used to see became de-saturated. Lost. I used to see art or magic in everything, especially the mundane- the ability was buried under wreckage.

Slowly, once I had done enough damage to myself, I began to climb out of the hole. Clean. When I made it out, the only thing left inside was the voice, and for the second time in my life, I no longer ignored it- because it was my own.

There are many roles for all of us to play in this ending. We can be well-wishers, ill-wishers, sympathizers, vilifiers, comedians, rain clouds, victims-

That last one, again, is important. I have never thought myself a victim, nor my comrades, nor the fans- especially not the fans. For us to adopt that role right now would legitimize everything the tabloids have tried to name us. More importantly, it completely misses the point of the band. And then what have we learned?

With honor, integrity, closure, and on no one’s terms but our own- the door closes.

And another opens-

This morning I awoke early. I quickly brushed my teeth, threw on some baggy jeans, and hopped in my car. I gently sped down the 405 through the morning fog to a random parking lot in Palo Verde, where I was to meet a nice gentleman named Norm. He was older, and a self-proclaimed “hippie” but he also had the energy of Sixteen year old in a garage-rock band. The purpose of the meeting was the delivery of an amplifier into my possession. I had recently purchased the amp from him and we both agreed that shipping would jostle the tubes- so he was kind enough to meet me in the middle.
A Fender Princeton Amp from 1965, non reverb. A beautiful little device.

He showed me the finer points, the speaker, the non-grounded plug, the original label and the chalk mark of the man or woman who built it-

“This amp talks.” he said.
I smiled.
We got coffee, talked about gold-foil pickups and life. We sat in the car and played each other music we had made. We parted ways, promising to stay in touch, I drove home.

When I wanted to start My Chemical Romance, I began by sitting in my parent’s basement, picking up an instrument I had long abandoned for the brush- a guitar. It was a 90’s Fender Mexican Stratocaster, Lake Placid Blue, but in my youth I had decided it was too clean and pretty so I beat it up, exposing some of the red paint underneath the blue- the color it was meant to be. Adding a piece of duct tape on the pick guard, it felt acceptable. I plugged this into a baby Crate Amp with built in distortion and began the first chords of Skylines and Turnstiles.

I still have that guitar, and it’s sitting next to The Princeton.
He has a voice, and I would like to hear what it has to say.

In closing, I want to thank every single fan. I have learned from you, maybe more than you think you’ve learned from me. My only regret is that I am awful with names and bad with goodbyes. But I never forget a face, or a feeling- and that is what I have left from all of you.
I feel Love.

I feel love for you, for our crew, our team, and for every single human being I have shared the band and stage with-

Ray. Mikey. Frank. Matt. Bob. James. Todd. Cortez. Tucker. Pete. Michael. Jarrod.

Since I am bad with goodbyes. I refuse to let this be one. But I will leave you with one last thing-

My Chemical Romance is done. But it can never die.
It is alive in me, in the guys, and it is alive inside all of you.
I always knew that, and I think you did too.

Because it is not a band-
it is an idea.

Love,
Gerard

World Meets Girl

- Of course they went for the Golden Ticket cheese lmao

- Rowan and Sabrina ‘interrupting’ the title sequence ended up being cute but for a second I thought there was a problem with my TV and my broke ass almost had a heart attack

- That scene in their classroom area? The music that was playing made me emotional? And I don’t understand why?

- “You just get to chill in the audience for like 4 hours we aren’t starting yet”

- Did the girls ever actually bring those poor people food or was that an empty promise

- Corey was really digging that stuffed purple cat

- Auggie shouting “make me beautiful!” love that kid

- “I don’t really like Corey that much” “Yeah me neither.” 😂😂

- “Why am I telling you this? I don’t think I was in the show enough…” CECI MY DARLING I STRONGLY AGREE

- The way Rowan said “no” when she didn’t like the first outfit had me cracking up

- “We’re gonna go film a show!” “…Maybe.” “Yeah actually we don’t really know what we’re doing here…” 😂

- Fetus Ben Savage apparently sat on MJ’s desk and told him exactly how he’d do the show??? I love that loser omfg

- Speaking of, shoutout to the girl who interrupted them talking by screeching “I LOVE YOU BEN SAVAGE!!!!” like me too bitch the fuck?

- The boy that specifically summoned Sabrina to him, complemented her eyes, and told her he had a lot of feelings about Ski Lodge. Iconic.

- Also when he clearly wanted her shipping opinions on ski lodge and she dodged it like a pro??? Like that was a well done answer props to her lol

- Ceci grabbing the mic out of Corey’s hands amazing

- When they gave the friendship rings to those two little girls omg!!!

- “She’s like, my closest friend, except for all my other friends!” 😂😂

- Will someone please, for the love of God, just tell Ben Savage Cory is their favorite character omfg

- Danielle having to tell the little kid she won’t bite lmao

- “Who is your favorite Topanga?” 😂

- “She called my name, I HAVE to go to her!” Amir lol

- “Oh Jessie is HERE OH WOW!” Amir, Peyton, calm down a few notches my children 😂 Although those two girls were cute lol

- “THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU PUT THE SCRIPT ON THE COMPUTER!” I’ve done shit like that before don’t worry Row every actor has been there 😂😂

- Listen like the blooper real wasn’t even that funny but everyone in the cast has very infectious laughs omfg

- When they were doing the ‘ Bay Window Confessions’ and they’d cut and you’d just see Row and Sabrina sitting on each other’s laps and ‘awww’-ing??? Omfg

- “Are you more Riley or Maya” the age old question that I can’t personally answer yike

- THE TWO BIG GUYS WHO SAT IN THE BAY WINDOW AND DIDN’T KNOW WHAT TO SAY. ICONIC.

- “We actually became friends over this show and I love how you’ll just randomly message me in the middle of the day because you just know I’m sad” kill me I don’t want feelings omg

- The two boys who started crying because they made each other feel comfortable in themselves oh no!!!!!

- THE TINY IDENTICAL TWINS WHO JUST KEPT SAYING “You look like me!” e n d m e

- Seriously all those were so cute wtf someone be my best friend so we can cherish each other bye

- The whole thing with the cast together in the living room set. Like I just always love shots of everyone together don’t touch me

- Danielle started crying and I started crying

- Ben Savage being forced to come to terms with the fact he’s 35 on camera

- All the shots of fans in different countries was pretty cute

- The shots of the empty sets I was like “nope cancellation is a myth!!!”

- Rowan and Sabrina in their cute little Bay Window moment omfggggggggggg

- I’m putting my foot down this show is not allowed to end it’s too cute and I enjoy it far to much. I will physically fight the entire Disney corporation. Someone tell them to meet me in the parking lot of the church down the street from my house at 10:00 pm tomorrow it’s going down  

- All in all 11/10 fucking adorable I feel like I need to hug something I’m gonna go drown lingering emotions in fried rice

OKAY IM LATE BUT WHOS TALKING ABOUT

THE FACT THEY BUBBLED EVERY SINGLE ROSE QUARTS JUST IN CASE???

WHICH IS ALSO WHY JASPER IMMEDIATELY KNEW STEVEN HAD ROSE’S GEM LIKE STEVEN IS LITERALLY THE VERY LAST ROSE QUARTS STILL FREE

OR WHAT ABOUT THESE DIMOND SHIPS YO

THEY WOULDN’T HAND THESE OUT TO JUST ANY GEM YET 

I CANT HELP PRETENDING THIS IS WHATS LEFT OVER FROM PINK DIMOND’S SHIP AND PERIDOT JUST MADE IT GREEN 

okay that will be all

Seventeen Reaction (Performance Unit) to you flinching during a fight

OMG THESE RAKE SO LONG WHY DO I DO SEVENTEEN REACTIONS SO LATE AT NIGHT

Carrying on I hope you like it


Dino: Tears were running down your face, your breath hitched in the back of your throat and vision blurring. You and Chan had possibly the worst fight yet and you and him definitely knew it. Voices were raised and emotions were high and when Chan suddenly made his way closer to you, you freaked. You immediately turned around and ran away from him leaving his room and ran down the hall and into the bathroom, locking the door. More tears began running down your face the moment you heard his voice on the other side of the door , pleading to let him in and multiple apologies leaving his mouth.


The8: You always knew Minghao had somewhat of a temper. He would snap at some little things in an argument but he’d never made you flinch before. You knew he would never hit you or harm you in any way but when his hand went up and brushed through his hair you couldn’t help but flinch back and raise your hands, your eyes squeezed shut and for a moment you were just waiting for something to come. You knew he’d never hurt you but you were still expecting something to come. Your eyes slowly opened when you felt his hands gently place themselves on your wrists, he pulled your hands down and only pain was on his face, in his eyes and all over his features. He couldn’t help but shake his head at the thought of him actually laying a hand on you. It completely tore him in two and you couldn’t help but feel a small wave of guilt hit you for making him feel so much pain.


Hoshi: Soonyoung’s voice lowered as he yelled at you, his hand slapping down against his thighs and you immediately yelped, jumping back a few feet away from your boyfriend. Soonyoung immediately stopped, eyes widening and hands soon trying to reach you. You tried to turn and walk away from him as quickly as you could but you were pulled back, back hitting his chest and you couldn’t help but let out a yell of “No” & “Let go of me” Anxiety ran through your body when you felt his hold tighten on you and your feet come up off of the ground. Another scream came out of you and Soonyoung soon clasped his hand over your mouth. “Jagi, please calm down. Stop crying I’m not going to hurt you.” He pleaded. You soon found yourself sitting in Soonyoung’s lap while he rocked you back and forth, any way in order to calm you down. He’d mumble apologies to you but wouldn’t let go until he knew you were calm again and trusted that he wouldn’t hurt you.


Jun: The slap of his hand smacking against the kitchen counter caused all your words that were coming out to silence almost instantly. You didn’t bring your hands up or step back but only was able to shut your eyes and have your body jolt a little in the loud noise that scared you. Junhui’s head would be racing with anger and thoughts that he hadn’t really realized that you flinches until he heard the almost silent whimper come out of you when he yelled even louder. His face would immediately soften while the anger fizzled out of him. He’d slowly touch you, it was the most gentle touch he’s ever given you, he was treating you as if you were fine china and that you were going to break with any given pressure placed on you. He had a frown on his face while you just stayed there. “Open your eyes.” He’d whisper, pain evident in his voice, you slowly opened your eyes, a small tear falling down your face but he was staring at you with big, scared eyes. Junhui just shook his head and soon pulled you into him, when your body hit his the tears left both your eyes and his. Your body was wracked with quiet sobs while your body still shook. “I’m sorry, I would never hurt you.” Junhui whispered, his voice shook while holding onto you. Please know that Jagi, I’d never hurt you.”

Castle on the Hill

Made friends and lost them through the years

Everything looked the same, the houses the streets even the sign that held the towns name looked the same. Riverdale like all small towns never change, maybe that’s why your heart felt warmer as you passed the welcome too sign. You hadn’t lived in Riverdale for ten years yet as your parents drove down the roads you still remember all the memories you had here as a child.

Passing Betty and Archie’s house made reality hit you the fact you hadn’t been here in ten years all your friends would of grown up without you. All the promises you made to keep in touch disappeared when you left the small town. How was you suppose to face them in school tomorrow when they had probably forgotten you.

“I can’t believe we managed to get the old house back, how crazy is that Y/N you’ll be back in your old room before you know it”

You don’t acknowledge what your father had said instead you kept staring out the window. Your old house, your old room being able to see the treehouse the one thing linked to the one person who you hoped forgot about you.

~“Jug I don’t want to leave you, your my best friend in the whole world”

“I know Y/N I wish you could live here with me but you gotta stay with your parents but promise me you’ll write”

“I promise Jughead I promise”~

Just kids you’d managed to keep writing to him until you stopped. You were too busy or well you knew the truth you’d forgotten. You hoped that Jughead had forgotten you that way him seeing you would hurt less.

Unpacking wasn’t hard you made sure the curtains of your room were shut so you wouldn’t be met with the pain of what was, what could never be again. By the time everyone had unpacked no one was in the mood to cook so there was only one place on your mind.

“I’ve rung Pop’s Y/N do you mind going to pick it up if you remember the way” you roll your eyes at your mother how could you forget the best joint in town.

Like everything else in Riverdale Pop’s hadn’t changed the dinner was radiating light in the almost dark night. Once inside you felt once again at home remembering the burgers and the shakes you use to stuff down as a kid.

“Hi um pick up for Y/L/N”

“Be just a minute Hun” you nodded to the cook before taking a seat in a booth. A few rows down you could see some kids your age the three of them looked like they were having a good night. But something about the back of two of the heads seems familiar.

“Order for Y/L/N” you stood up ready to grab the paper bag but before you could something, well more like someone caught your eye.

A blacked hair boy that had a crown shaped beanie on his head, as he went to climb over the girl and sit next to her his eyes caught yours. It couldn’t be but of course it was you knew that at some point it would happen maybe better here then in school. The boy and girl opposite him turned to look at you as well, it was the three of them. The three people that in your childhood life meant the most to you.

“Y/N?” Betty was the first to speak up scrambling over Archie she ran towards you engulfing you into a hug.

“Hi Betty” your voice sounding thin as if you were ready to brake down into tears. Archie was next not saying anything he pulled Betty away from you only to have her join again once his now strong arms were around you.

The raven haired girl just stood confused as to why her friends were acting this way. Archie and Betty finally pulled away from you though Betty kept your hand in hers to make sure it was actually you.

“I can’t believe it” his voice was the one to brake the silence, he moved around the girl to stand meters away from you. You was ready for whatever the boy was going to scream at you how he would react.

“Hi Jug” you breath out a name you thought a few months ago you would never say again.

“Ten years and all I get is a hi Jug” you bite the inside of your cheek ready for the rest of the words to come falling out of his mouth. But instead of harsh words you get him hugging you holding you close to him, something new as you still remember that he was never much of a hugger. When you pull away he has somewhat of a smile on his face. Yours showing completely as you stand in-between all your old friends.

“Y/N I’m Veronica since these losers would introduce me” you take Veronica’s hand shaking it before you realise that you should of been home ten minutes ago with food for your parents.

“Guys is love to stay honest I wish I could but I gotta get these burgers back to my parents, Betty, Archie catch up tomorrow I swear we have to walk to school like always” you smile squeezing their hands.

“Veronica I can’t wait to get to know you more, come on Jug be the gentleman and walk me home?” In your heart though you knew you just needed to talk to him more.

He waves bye to the others who completely understand why you asked him Betty and Archie probably filling in Veronica on the relationship between you and Jughead. Both of you saying a finale goodbye before Jughead grabs the paper bag and your hand and walking out the door.

“I’m sorry” both of you say at the same time, a small blush creeping onto your cheeks.

“Let’s not talk about it,kinda both our faults but you’re back now that’s what matters, what I hope is for good”

“I don’t think I ever want to leave this place again, I don’t wanna ever leave you again Jug”

“That’s good enough for me” and like that you was walking hand in hand like you did as children chasing the sunset.

Okay, Disney, I’ve had a bone to pick with you for a while

Where the hell is “Tiana’s Place”? Don’t get smart and say New Orleans, I mean for real. Why have you not made a Tiana’s Place at one of your parks?

I see no possible reason why you wouldn’t have built a restaurant like this yet. It’s cute, classy, and would be totally fun. You could serve creole food (as well as just plain american fair for the less adventurous.)

It would be pretty as hell inside

It would be fun for kids and adults, you could have dancing and a band playing. You could have a magician (bonus points if he’s dressed liked Facilier. Or train your Faciler face person to do short tarot card readings! Or get a mama Odi!)

The face characters could come in and out, but there’s always a set time Tiana and Naveen would be there (and if they aren’t you can say their in the kitchen cooking up a storm!) Jazz music! Lots of Jazz and swing. You could have workshops with Tiana for kids to learn stuff like the charleston, or cooking!

And then night or during the day a couple times a week you could have a second line (small New Orleans style jazz parade) with a brass band and Tiana and Naveen leading it, all the way to the restaurant.

And Oh my god, do you consider how many people would love a place like that to get married at the park! Having a wedding second line too? How fun that would be?

Disney, you are really missing out by not playing up the fact you have a character that opened their own restaurant (outside of Remi from Ratatouille but that’s another rant) and I’m really sick of The Princess and the Frog being among your more ignored movies. Put it at Epcot near the river or just anywhere! Heck, I know I stayed at a New Orleans style resort area of yours when I was like six! (Is that still around? I don’t remember what it was called, but there were Gator statues with instruments that would tie in really well…)

In conclusion

7

Poor Kuro, you didn’t even notice your own heart breaking for two seconds. OKAY GOOD LORD. It took me forever to introduce Sakuya for multiple reasons. 

1.) I had to figure out how to draw his freaking hair. YIKES. I’m still trying to figure out how to draw some characters that’s why they haven’t made it into age/human au yet.

2.) I also was like what personality would he have in this au?? :0 (he went from a class clown to kinda psycho in the actual series. jeez)

???? Kinda both I suppose. But I guess he won’t ACTUALLY be yandere since this is family oriented au. His role is probably more overly protective best friend lol the chaos. He’s also figured out that Kuro is slightly intimidated by him, and that’s the reason he does the “yandere” face. haaha

Welp. I’m off to answer some more requests in my inbox~

Originally posted by mfwpics

There's this science teacher

*This one kid started up a petition to get him fired and he started offering extra points to people who signed it

*One time I made a pun that was so terrible he started asking people to sign the petition so he could “get out of this school and away from her”

*I asked him if he could Z snap so he looked me dead in the eyes and gave the sassiest Z-snap ever while saying “Gurl why’d you ask me that”

*I need some coffee and some meth

*Somebody asked what was next in class and he screamed DEATH (Upon being asked why he said “if i just said ‘death’ it wouldn’t be exciting”)

*When we were doing fingerprinting I had a bandaid on my left middle finger that I couldn’t take off so he held my hand up and made me flip off the entire class just to give an example

*Once confronted me in the parking lot about a pun I’d made earlier only to be slammed with yet another pun (this kid on the other side of the yard shouted AYYYYY)

*I once tried to look through a microscope that hadn’t been turned on and he asked me what I saw and he started laughing when I said “my future”

*Chased me down the hallway chanting “braaaains” and wouldn’t stop the pursuit until I hid in the ladies room

*“Ah yes, sir frances g. Part of Kanye’s squad.”

Zen x MC: Learn to Trust

This is a request from a cutie anon:
“ Hello, sweetie. Can’t you write a fanfic about Jumin/Zen have a big fight with MC?? I need more angst in my life omg ;;A;; because I live angst so so much and I love your fiction too omg they are so great that I wanna cry.. “

I chose Zen because I haven’t written anything for him yet~

✉ ✉ ✉ ✉ ✉ ✉ ✉ ✉ ✉ ✉ ✉ ✉ ✉ ✉ ✉ ✉ ✉ ✉ ✉ ✉

‘There she goes…again’. I mumbled in my mind when I saw MC picked up her phone again as if she was desperately waiting for someone’s call. She had been like this for a couple days now, which made me feel kind of worried. I loved her with all my heart and she had always been so supportive to me. However, that was also the reason why I was so scared. Scared of losing her. Scared of her falling out of love with me. I had never seen her on the phone as much before until a few days ago. I couldn’t help but let the seed of doubt inside me grow slowly. I couldn’t confront her… I didn’t know why but I just didn’t. The next day, and the next of next day, she still acted strangely. Always on the phone messaging someone, taking calls while I wasn’t presented, going out secretly. This couldn’t be it right? I mean…she would never cheat on me right?

That was…until one morning. I couldn’t take it anymore and my last straw broke. At first, we were only talking face to face, both were calm but at some point, MC’s stubbornness got the better of me and I raised my voice at her. I couldn’t even remember what was going on my mind. Words just kept spilling out of my mouth.

“If you’re not seeing someone behind my back, then why are you acting so strange and distant lately!? Huh? Because I was right!! And you know it!”
“Stop it Zen! I told you it was nothing like that! And I told you that you will understand everything tonight!”
“Are you gonna leave? Are you gonna introduce whoever it is to me?”
“Zen! You’re not even calm to listen to me. How am I gonna make you understand!!? More than that…how could you even doubt me?”

There was sadness in her eyes, but I was too blinded by anger to realize. Before I knew it, I was already at the peak of anger and I snapped.

“You don’t need to say anything more, MC.”

Then I took my jacket and went to work, leaving MC behind with tears on the verge of falling. The door shut close with a loud bang. That whole day, my mind was else where and I couldn’t focus on acting at all. I was scolded by the director so many times and there was scenes that had to be retaken not just once. I felt so mad and helpless. However, as time pass, night came and stars appeared in the sky, I suddenly remember the sky I saw with MC for the first time ever when she came to visit me after I got injured. Then, one by one, memories started flooding back. It made me feel love swelling up in my chest all over again, just like when I started falling for MC and wanted to protect her like a hero in shining armors. Though the anger was still lingering, I went back home to smooth things out with MC. The moment I turned on the light in the living room, the first thing I saw was the colorful decorations everywhere. Then I saw food and drinks on the table, there was also a cake in the middle with chocolate writing: “Happy Birthday my Zen the Knight <3″. Instantly, a smile found its way on my lips. However, there was something missing. I looked around and saw all the RFA members around with a super concerned look on their faces.

“H-hey guys. What’s happened?”
“U-um… We planned this surprise birthday party for you with MC and we came early as promise, but it’s been a couple hours and she was nowhere. We tried calling and message her…”
“Wait…what?”

MC planned this party with everyone as a surprise…for me? Was it why she had been acting strange and secretly? No. No no no! I shouldn’t have doubted her and snapped at her this morning. My face turned pale and I felt numb for a long moment. She was telling me the truth this whole time but I just chose to doubt her instead of listening patiently. What had I done!? I ran out of the house just as fast as how I left this morning why calling MC. I called so many times that I lost count and I started losing hope. But I decided to call one last time anyway. I stopped at an alley to catch my breath and calm myself down. I didn’t expect MC to pick up because she was rejecting every single phonecall from me. But…my heart almost stopped when I heard a beep, and her voice followed after.

“Z-Zen? *sobs*”

She was crying…because of my stupid jealousy.

“M-MC! Where are you right now? E-Everyone told me and I understand what you meant now. So please tell me where you are. I’m so sorry for getting mad at you. And I’m sorry for doubting you, even just one second…But I don’t want to lose you! Never! So ple-”
“I’m at the cafe where you took me to on our first date.”
“A-alright! Wait for me there, my love.”

I was already running when she told me the location. Now, I just hoped I could make this up to her. She was obviously crying and probably calmer than she was this morning. This whole mess happened because of me so I had to fix this. The cafe came into sight as I took a turn, that was also when MC exited the cafe and stood in front to wait for me. God, I really do love her so much. Just seeing her from afar was enough to get me crazy.

“MC!”

I yelled her name and pulled her into my strong embrace. I apologized again and again. I kissed her hair and her forehead again and again, not minding the people who were around.

“Z-Zen. That’s enough.”
“Are you getting shy? So adorable! I’ll keep doing it until you forgive me, my baby lamb.”

This time, I gave her a sudden kiss on the lips. Oh no, the beast…

“Geez~ Zen! Alright, I forgive you. But you still have to make it up to me. I’m still mad that you doubted me!”

Ohmygod that pout and puppy face! So cute!!

“I know I know. I will definitely make it up to you, okay? Now, let’s go home. Everyone is worried and probably starving by now.”

I took her small cute hand in mine and entwined our fingers. I gave it a tight squeeze as if I was scared if I let it go, she’d disappear. Today, I learned a lesson the hard way of how to trust your loved one. I should be straightforward and tell her whatever was bothering me so we could work things out instead of bottling it up and letting it spilled at one point. It would destroy our relationship if either of us wasn’t be honest. If one person loved another person, they would accept everything about them, no matter it’s theirs flaws or weakness. And I knew, that my only love was MC. I made a promise to myself that this big mistake would be the last one because I was going to trust her and love her even more strongly from now on. I gave her a gentle smile when I turned to look at her and she smiled cutely back at me and it was all it took to (almost) unleash the beast inside me.

*Muah!*

“Zen!”
“I can’t help it! You’re too cute!”

✉ ✉ ✉ ✉ ✉ ✉ ✉ ✉ ✉ ✉ ✉ ✉ ✉ ✉ ✉ ✉ ✉ ✉ ✉ ✉

And there ya go~ I hope you enjoyed it. Though I think there wasn’t enough angst in this right?

anonymous asked:

Could you please do prompts of two villain getting together?

1) “You wanted help from forces you couldn’t control, now you must pay the price.”
All of their life they had considered themselves at the top of the food chain, the most dangerous predator in the room. It was equal parts mesmerizing and horrifying to come across a being that made their teeth look like toothpicks by comparison. 
A shiver ran down the villain’s spine. “But together-”
“-Together?” the other purred. “Ambitious of you. You haven’t even bought me dinner yet.”


2) “Why are you being nice to me?” 
“People like us, we have to stick together,” the villain said reasonably. They tightened the bandages. “It’s not like anyone else is going to stick up for us.”


3) “I tell you what.” She smoothed down the antagonist’s shirt. “You want the recipe to my toxins, and I need someone I can bring home to meet my parents so they’ll stop questioning my social life.”
What? 
Perhaps,” she continued. “We could help each other out.”
“You want me to meet your family?” 
No one ever invited them to meet the family. Ever. They weren’t considered suitable material for anyone’s beloved baby, and work-life boundaries were a nightmare to navigate when they couldn’t even talk about work with anyone they knew.
“It’s a quid pro quo, don’t look so pleased,” she snapped. “It’s just business.”


4) The break out blasted through the holding cells. It felt like the only change in silence and concrete since forever. The villain shielded their eyes, coughing up dust, before raising their head at the sound of boots too casual and sauntering to be the frantic rush of guards. 
“It’s a sin to keep a wild creature in a cage,” murmured a voice. A hand reached out to them as the dust of the explosion cleared. “Come with me.”


5) It was a moment born of impulse, dark nights, long hours alone with only plans to keep company with. It meant nothing really. Then it kept happening. The villain didn’t know whose mouth met whose first; but to not go to war against the world for just a few hours soon grew to be an addicting thing. Even if they were the last people anyone on the planet would be safe with, there was a strange safety with each other. 


+1

“If you can seduce our dearest hero before I can - this corner of the city is all yours.”
“Why do you want to seduce them?” 
“Jealous?”
“Curious.”
“Do we have a bet or not?”

It started out small. First I made excuses to why I had been crying, then when that didn’t work, I just ignored whatever questions I was asked. After that came feeling drained emotionally and physically. I slept off however I felt in hopes to feel better… but that led to headaches and pills. Getting over you is no simple task.. it’s one I hoped I’d never even have to try to commit to. Yet, at the same time, I knew we’d never last.
—  An excerpt from a book I’ll never write. (#43)
Flood my Mornings: Album
  • This story takes place in an AU in which Jamie travels through the stones two years after Culloden and finds Claire and his child in 1950 Boston.
  • Previous installment: Protocol (Jamie and Claire enjoy a last night out on their honeymoon )

Album

I jolted awake and looked wildly for the alarm clock, heart racing. 12:43 AM. I’d agreed to do morning shifts for my first week back at the hospital, but even so, I didn’t need to be up for hours, yet. So, why…?

Jamie. The absence of him next to me on the pillow. 

Several nights on the Cape, I had awoken to find him in the throes of some terror, or gone from the bed and clinging to the window frame, letting the cold air brace him. He’d barely spoken, in those times, either stayed away from me entirely, or letting me soothe him back into sleep. It was like Paris all over again, and thought of that made my heart seize. We hadn’t yet spoken of Culloden…but I knew that there were terrors from that day, and horrors that followed, from which Jamie was far from free.

A quick search of the house, though, revealed him sitting comfortably on the living room sofa. I instantly breathed a sigh of relief: he looked a bit pale and was staring off into space, but looked serene and peaceful…unmistakably happy…and in a very familiar way.

He raised a can of beer to me in salute. “Care to join me?”

I crossed to him eagerly. “In sitting, yes. I’ll pass on the drink, since I’ve got to be up for work in a few hours.”

“Suit yourself.” He shifted his legs to make room for me. Perhaps hoping to prevent future “bum Da” incidents, he was wearing the nightshirt I’d bought for him. In terms of construction and coverage, it wasn’t much different from the long shirts in which he’d habitually slept in the eighteenth century,  but I had to suppress a giggle at sight of it. Just give him a sleeping cap and a scowl and he’d make the world’s most seductive Ebenezer Scrooge.

Suppressing the urge to reflect further on the absurd scenarios such a thought conjured, I kissed his cheek and said, “Trouble sleeping, love?”

“Indeed, though I dinna ken how, for I’m bone-weary. Achy and pealy-wally from the drive home, I suppose. Hoped a draught might help settle me.”

Home,” I murmured as I snuggled against him, feeling a thrill run through me at the word. “I like the sound of that.”

“As do I, my Sassenach.” 

His voice was warm, still sweet with his smile, though I didn’t think the prospect of living under the same roof was what he’d been thinking of when I’d walked in. “Were you thinking about Bree, just then, by any chance?”

He gave a small ha! of impressed surprise. “Either you’ve picked up a knack for divining thoughts, ma dame blanche, or I’ve lost mine for inscrutability!”

“The latter, I think,” I said feeling the happy glow of him spreading to my own body. “At least where Bree is concerned, anyway. You get this look about you when you think about her…or hold her…or look at her.”

That very look spread once again across his features: the sweetest smile of contented joy.

“Couldna help it even if I tried,” he said, squeezing my hand. “Though I never would. Just the fact that she exists–yours, and mine, a new person God created from our love…” He shook his head in wonderment. “It’s the simplest fact there is, that bairns typically result from coupling, but the miracle and gift of it hits me deep…and I still sometimes canna believe I have you both to care for…to love.” He set down his drink and pulled me closer with both arms, kissing my forehead. “I’m a verra blessed man, indeed.”

We’re blessed. All of us.” I kissed him softly on the neck. “That’s what you were thinking about, then?”

“Aye. That and…well, specifically, I was thinking of what Brianna must have been like when she was first born. I’ll wager she was a bonnie one, aye?”  

“She was, indeed,” I said. “Bonnie and loud and perfect.”

“Tell me about her?” he asked quietly.

“Of course,” I said, rubbing his arm. “Would you like to see, as well?”

See?”  His eyebrows drew together for a moment, then raised in excitement, comprehension dawning. “You have PhotoGraphs?”

In answer, I leaned forward and plucked up the photo album from its niche under the coffee table. Jamie sat on the edge of the sofa, his greed apparent. I perched beside him and opened the book to lay across both our laps.

The first page held four pictures, all taken unbeknownst to me by a kindly, perceptive nurse. The winter sun was streaming through a window onto my face. I was in a white hospital gown, my hair unbelievably messy in a cloud around my head, but I was oblivious, beaming down at a swaddled bundle in my arms: my daughter, who I was holding for the first time.

I’d gotten to see her immediately after the cesarean, I explained to Jamie, but only for the barest moment, with scarcely enough time to kiss her forehead before she was whisked off to the intensive care unit. Her lungs were not functioning as they should. Her skin held a blue tinge, made even more alarming in appearance by the pasty vernix that still coated her face. With tufts of copper hair and her ears…those precious, wing-like ears, she was so like Faith, so small…and so still…I began screaming as soon as they took her away. They had to put me under full anesthesia to close the incision.

I awoke from medicated nightmares, alone in a bleak hospital room…with no child to be seen. I’d not screamed further, too weak for the task, but I had shaken and sobbed until my bones were sapped of all energy, my soul of any desire to move or speak. The doctors were kind and soothing, telling me that everything would be fine, but giving me no concrete, medical news of Brianna to reassure me. I hadn’t had anyone there with me at the hospital. Father Gentry had come by a day or two later, and would have come sooner if asked, but on the first night of Brianna’s life, I had been completely and truly alone in the world. In that darkness, I’d mourned for Brianna. For Faith. For Jamie. And I’d made contingency plans for how to end my life.

But then, I’d woken to a gentle shaking and a warm, red, squirming bundle being placed in my arms.

I couldn’t have said how long I held her. Laughing. Weeping. Kissing her. Nourishing her with my body. Making promises to her. Talking to her about Jamie. Talking to Jamie about her.

The real, breathing Jamie pulled me closer to him. “You were all alone, mo ghraidh.” He leaned his head against mine, voice thick with weeping. “It… truly breaks my heart….that I wasna there for ye either time. I’m so verra sorry for–” His voice broke.

“You couldn’t help it either time,” I said, though my voice was tight with pain. I reached a hand up to draw him in for a kiss. 

The notion that had been growing in my heart this last week stirred once more. Was this the wrong time to voice it? Or…

“If someday there should…be a third time…?”

The transformations that came over his face were breathtaking, a coup of utter joy, immediately followed by terror. “But you said yourself that both of ye could have died. Surely you canna put yourself at risk again.” When I didn’t immediately respond, he shook his head, hard. “No. I willna lose you, Claire.”

It would be dangerous to conceive again, the doctors had said. At the time, I’d assured them the point was entirely moot. Now… “You won’t lose me, Jamie,” I said, with far more certainty than I felt. “I want another child with you. Not at once, perhaps, but…” 

I trailed off, unable to express how strongly I felt this need– to bear a child of ours in happiness and peace. I could live without it, in the same way that I could live without….without ever going to medical school…but in just the same way, I wanted it. And it mattered.

Jamie could see something of this in my face. He was quiet for a moment, then took my hand and squeezed. “When the next bairn comes, then,” he said, and though there was still a quiver of fear in the sound, he was smiling, “whenever it comes, I’ll no’ leave your side. Not for a moment.”

I knew any hospital would do their best to dissuade him, to keep the father away from the operating room or delivery suite. I’d bloody like to see them try.

He bent his head and kissed me, very gently, cradling my head in his hands. He broke the kiss with a small laugh, beaming. “Another bairn…when my heart is already full to bursting… Jesus, will this embarrassment of riches never stop?”  

“No,” I said, beaming back. “At least, I certainly hope not.”

Jamie turned the page of the album. “Oh, just look at her, then,” he said, lightly touching the paper that showed Bree, two or three weeks old, yawning hugely on my lap. “So tiny… and such a bonny, sweet face.”  

Every photo, captioned only with a date, captured a moment in Brianna’s life.

(December, 1948). At six weeks, on her christening day, gawping skeptically up at Father Gentry.

(February, 1949). At three months, sleeping peacefully in her crib, curled up against her stuffed rabbit.

(September, 1949). At ten months, taking wobbly steps toward the camera.

(November 23, 1949). Covered with the icing of her first birthday cake.

(March, 1950). On my lap, the both of us careening down a hill on a sled toward Mrs. Byrd.

(June, 1950). Snuggled against my shoulder, half-asleep, one fist grasping my hair as I stroked hers.

Without warning, Jamie stood up and walked out of the room. I didn’t have to ask what he was doing.

Less than a minute later, he returned, holding a pajamaed Bree against his shoulder. She was still waking up, and was grumbling vague, fretful interrogatories, her curls a frenzied pouf around her face.

Whisht,” Jamie shushed softly against her hair. “Go back to sleep, lass. Whisht, now.”

Hab-beffist?” she asked croakily, rubbing her eyes.

“Nay, it’s no’ yet time to have breakfast, a chuisle,” Jamie said, his own voice rather hoarse as he sat, Bree on his belly, facing him. He tightened his arms under her, smiling, but blinking hard. “Da just…needed to hold his wee bairn, s’all.”

Beebair?” she said, straightening and looking intently back at him.

“Aye, that’s right,” he said, as he kissed her tenderly and lightly cupped her face, “you, sweet one, are my own wee bairn.”

A look of glee suddenly stole over her sleepy features. She screwed up her brows fiercely, waved both hands, and growled out a tiny, “rrrrroahhhh!”

“Oh–OH MY–” I laughed, “there’s a scary, ‘wee BEAR’ in here, Jamie!”

Jamie shook with laughter too, but played along, rearing back in mock fear, “Stay ye BACK, foul beastie!”

Bree, triumphant, gave another roar which turned seamlessly into a mighty yawn, her would-be paws coming up to rub her eyes again.

Jamie stilled and brought his arms around her, voice low and soft with love. “Come lay your head, now, sleepy cub.” He turned to lay on his back. She resisted for a moment, trying to push up with her hands, but Jamie’s soft Gaelic and gentle touch brought her at last to settle against his chest. Jamie held out a hand to me, and while the sofa was scarcely wide enough, I curled against him, holding them both.

When I woke a few hours later, the dawn light as good as any alarm clock, I had a screaming spasm in my neck and my back was sore. But Jamie and Bree were still sleeping peacefully, she tucked protectively between him and the back cushions, her round cheek smushed against his shoulder. Jamie felt unusually warm to the touch, but I still pulled the afghan from the back of the sofa and tucked it around them. Turning to head for the shower, I paused at sight of the album on the coffee table.

I went to the hallway where my beach bag still sat, and rifled in it until I drew out the camera. The shutter made a satisfying flackk as I captured the scene.

(July, 1950).


Keep reading with the next chapter

In my low periods, I wondered what was the point of creating art. For whom? Are we animating God? Are we talking to ourselves? And what was the ultimate goal? To have one’s work caged in art’s great zoos- the Modern, the Met, the Louvre?
I craved honesty, yet found dishonesty in myself. Why commit to art? For self-realization, or for itself? It seemed indulgent to add to the glut unless one offered illumination.
Often I’d sit and try to write or draw, but all of the manic activity in the streets, coupled with the Vietnam War, made my efforts seem meaningless. I could not identify with political movements. In trying to join them I felt overwhelmed by yet another form of bureaucracy. I wondered if anything I did mattered.
Robert had little patience with these introspective bouts of mine. He never seemed to question his artistic drives, and by his example, I understood that what matters is the work: the string of words propelled by God becoming a poem, a weave of colour and graphite scrawled upon the sheet that magnifies His motion. To achieve within the work a perfect balance of faith and execution. From this state of mind comes a light, life-charged.
—  Patti Smith, Just Kids
Request: Imagine...punching Jasper in the face

Originally posted by halemasen

Originally posted by ignitetheliight

Ohhh @curlkitty 😂😂💕

So lets be clear, you find Jasper to be a gigantic idiot by choice. He does the most stupidest things to get a reaction out of you. Why? It was hilarious.

Jasper sped up to stand behind you leaving, no. personal. space. He then yelled. “HEY LOOK AT ME I’M A VOLTURI!”
This made you jump and scream “NOPEEEEEEE!” Upon instinct you had punched him in the face.
So this was new…you called him stupid all the time yet you just punched him in the face. Jasper just stood there, obviously it didn’t hurt him, his face didn’t even move so he didn’t know whether to laugh or panic.

At first your hand felt numb before pins and needles pulsed through your hand before pain erupted. “OWWWWWWWWW.” You yelled, cradling your hand. That was when Jasper kicked into action.

“(Y/N) you’re very lucky. Your hand is only bruised.”
“Are you sure my hand isn’t dying? Feels like it.”
Carlisle chuckled in response, carefully analysing your bruised knuckles. “No, you’re fine. Just don’t raise your hand to anymore vampires.”
Your eyes narrowed on Jasper. “You’re a Volturi eh?”
Jasper burst out laughing. “It was so good!” He began to mimick you. “Nooooope! I need to tell Emmett about this!”

2

I already know that I’m late to the party but a LOT of things happened while I made this, including events like my Patreon reaching it’s 6 month anniversary, this blog getting nearer to 2,000 followers, and @therealjacksepticeye reaching 13 MILLION SUBSCRIBERS.

I don’t know about you, but that is beyond amazing.

So basically, this is a little tribute to every single one involved in these events, specially including @pixlpit whose magic sparked an old passion I had with video editing, @furiarossa, @petzemz, @vi0lentquiche, and other Patrons whose tumblr I’m not sure are the right ones, the entire JSE community whose support this last week just blew me away, and of course Jack himself. Last month was incredible, and this is me saying that I am so glad you had fun along the way.

Thank you for being awesome. Don’t stop being awesome. :)