you have had enough

anonymous asked:

What are the bros favorite quotes? Like something from a videogame or a movie?

In General:

Gladio:

“There is a difference between giving up and knowing when you have had enough.” ~ Unknown.

Ignis:

“Simplicity is the ultimate form of sophistication.” ~ Leonardo Da Vinci

Noctis:

“Remember the crown that sits upon your head sits there not as a symbol of royalty that might demote one who is to be served, but it sits there as a symbol of one who gives of themself, voluntarily, for the benefit of those by whose name they are called.” ~ Ben C. Minter

Prompto:

“You were born to be real, not to be perfect.” ~ Unknown

Video game:

Gladio:

“A sword wields no strength unless the hand that holds it has courage.” ~ Shade, The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess.

Ignis:

“The essence of balance is detachment. To embrace a cause, to grow fond or spiteful, is to lose one’s balance, after which, no action can be trusted.” ~ Mayar, The Third Keeper: The Dark Project.

Noctis:

“What is better - To be born good, or to overcome your evil nature through great effort?” ~ Paarthurnax, The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim.

Prompto:

“It’s in our nature to forget truths that keep us awake at night.” ~ Unknown, Fallout: New Vegas.

Movie:

Gladio:

“People don’t change. They just reveal who the fuck they really are.” ~ Unknown, The Success Club (Year Unknown).

Ignis:

“Voilà! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of Fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished. However, this valorous visitation of a by-gone vexation, stands vivified and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin vanguarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition. [carves “V” into poster on wall] The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta, held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous. Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose, so let me simply add that it’s my very good honor to meet you and you may call me V.” ~ V, V for Vendetta (2006).

Noctis:

“So I guess we are who we are for a lot of reasons. And maybe we’ll never know most of them.” ~ Charlie Kelmeckis, Perks of Being a Wallflower (2012).

Prompto:

“Mama always said life was like a box of chocolates. You never know what you’re gonna get.” ~ Forrest Gump, Forrest Gump (1994).

Girls having fun~

Boi, can you believe it’s already been a whole year since Horikoshi saved my life

someone on the TAZ tag wanted to see Taako cooking with his aunt, so here it is

Young Taako and his aunt whom I called Jeremiah in my head though I don’t know why

stolen century taako getting hit with a sleeping beauty curse gone wrong. the spell is supposed to be “he’s asleep until his true love kisses him” and it doesn’t quite work out. instead, everyone in the ipre loves him enough that they can bring him out of it and they can do it with any physical contact - but as soon as they stop touching him, he falls asleep again

this leads to some pretty creative solutions; there’s a lot of hand holding and taako wears a lot of sleeveless shirts so that one of them can put a hand on his shoulder. at one point he and barry fight an entire battle with their arms linked. when they’re on the starblaster, he mostly just follows lup around, but anyone will do in a pinch; one time lup steps away too quickly and merle has to dive for taako’s bare ankle to stop him from passing out into the skillet

when the year is over, lup is surprised and amused when he crawls into her bed (barry shifting over sleepily without any questions) and curls up against her. “thought you would have had enough cuddling for the next several years,” she says, taako responds, but his words are muffled by the pillow. “what?” she asks.

“missed sleeping next to you,” he says, and on lup’s other side barry kindly resolves to never tell the others about this particular moment of vulnerability

"you dont need tools for witchcraft"

i know tons witches, espcially on tumblr, always say this but a lot of times it dosnt seem true. those same blogs posting about “not needing tools” (myself included) reblog photos of sparkiling crystals and decorated altars. in comparison, our own practice can seem inadequate. but remeber that witchcraft is an old practice, and while over centuries this practice has grown and changed, the basis of the craft is old as fuck. the mothers of our practice most likely didn’t have access to a houndred different crystals, the entire whole foods spice rack, and dozens of specialized tools. the mothers of our craft were creative and worked with what was locally available, not $30 organic vanilla beans flown in from mesoamerica (unless that just so happened to be where they lived). the mothers of our craft were nifty and clever, and knew how to make everything out of anything. so, while beautiful, shimmering, lovely items are always nice -and can make us /feel/ witchy- our witch moms founded this practice without them.

Fleur Delacour

10

♥ D-14 until VIXX-OTPS’s fourth anniversary: 10 reasons why Ravi and Hyuk fans love them so much ♥

credits

belated birthday present for @molded-from-clay !!!

moldy is an incredible friend and has been hugely supportive of me ever since i first started getting more involved in the fandom, and i cannot thank her enough for all the kindness and encouragement she’s given me. 

SO THANKS FOR BEING BORN MOLDY YA BIG DORK, IM SO GLAD U EXIST!! 🎉🎂🎁

Here to shake things up

[Ko-fi / Redbubble]

I’m sorry I could never be the daughter you wanted

What if we hadn’t met?

Do you think we would’ve been better off?


I’d probably be peacefully sleeping instead of constantly thinking about you. I wouldn’t be thinking about your smile and how I desperately wished I could see it one last time. I wouldn’t be reminiscing how good we were once upon a time. And I certainly wouldn’t be missing you. I’d be happy because I wouldn’t be burdened with the thoughts of you holding someone else in your arms, someone who isn’t me. If I hadn’t met you, I would possibly still have had thought I was good enough, that I deserved happiness and I would find someone who’d give it to me.


And you, well you wouldn’t be so bitter towards me for starters.  Maybe, you would’ve found someone who treated you the way you deserved to be treated from the start and you would’ve never wasted a year of your life on something so pointless. You would’ve always been happy.


Imagine. What if the day you saw something in me in that room, I wasn’t there for something to be seen? And the day you decided to message me, I didn’t reply for us to talk for countless of hours? And after all those days of you telling me you loved me, I never ever said it back? Wouldn’t we have saved each other from all this pain? 

What if we had never met?

—  But we did.

anonymous asked:

What If one of the fakes had a high school reunion or something like that and just took the crew and it somehow ended in a shoot out with the cops.

Let’s just be clear, it’s not a pride thing. Geoff has never cared what people said about him, not outside a professional sense anyway; he knew exactly who he was, what he was capable of, even before he’d taken an entire city to its knees. So it’s not that he felt the need to prove himself, it’s just that there’s something particular about high school trauma, isn’t there? Something that lingers, even when it shouldn’t, something that emerges from even the most upstanding adults when thrown back together for a reunion, the bullies and the bullied, all desperate to show what they’ve become.

Geoff’s last high school was nothing like he’d ever been to before, a snobby upper-crust hellhole he was only in because his Ma’s third husband pulled some strings, and the other students were quick to point out just how much he didn’t belong. Between the tattoos and the smoking, the lazy looks and slow sneering drawl, it was always all too easy to label Geoff a loser, a drop out, trailer park trash everyone knew would be washing their cars one day. Never mind that he scored higher than most of his cohort even when skipping more or less every class, never mind that he is possibly the most well-read crime-lord in the country, back then he had an image and teenagers are relentless. Not that Geoff was all that phased even at the time, only a year or so away from the day he picked up his first gun and never looked back, but it’s the principal of the thing.

So when an invite forwards through from an email so old he’d forgotten he’d even made it Geoff has to laugh. Then pause, consider, hatch an utterly ridiculous idea, and laugh some more. Because he might not care, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t enjoy ruining the night for all the pathetic stuck-up nobodies he went to school with; rubbing your success in everyone’s faces is what reunions are for, after all. The fact that it has a theme, that it is masquerade of all things, really just cements Geoff’s resolve to drag his crew halfway across the country into one of the strangest nights of their lives.

Everyone knows the option to bring a guest to these events is, in reality, the offer to bring a romantic partner, singular, but it isn’t technically stated. There are no rules barring Geoff from RSVP-ing for 7, so that’s exactly what he does. Sure he receives a few increasingly less polite emails suggesting he’d been mistaken but he doesn’t even bother opening them, doesn’t try to clarify that he is bringing his friends, his family, not his entire harem. Let them talk; they’d do it anyway. Plus, it’s not like the Fake’s aren’t all entirely too pleased with the suggestion, cackling hyenas who spend the next few weeks laying it on thick, batting their eyes and blowing Geoff kisses, picking out increasingly absurd meet-cute stories to tell his scandalised classmates. Between creating new identities and playing dress up in masks and suits they couldn’t be happier.

Masks or not they catch every eye in the room when they make their entrance and why wouldn’t they; Geoff and his unusual request must have been the talk of the rumour mill and identity hidden or not clearly this must be Geoff, it’s not like anyone else brought along 6 dates. As stage whispers hit a dull roar it’s obvious no one was prepared for what they were seeing, perhaps imagined instead stained tank tops and a string of strung-out baby mama’s, not expensively tailored suits and an attractively refined entourage. Paying the noise no heed Geoff swans into the room with Jack looking elegant on one arm, Gavin at his most Ken-doll glamorous tucked under the other, flanked on either side by Ryan, Michael, Jeremy and Ray, all dressed to impress.

Shock and jealousy aren’t good looks on anyone, let alone rich brats turned elitist yuppies, so Geoff’s classmates behave just as poorly as he’d anticipated, years and newfound maturity doing nothing to stop the tittering laughter, the sneers and judgmental looks, fake pleasantry and condescending questions. But then, his crew didn’t exactly play nice with them either.

Ray and Jeremy immediately beeline to the food table and bar, respectively, and each set themselves up and settle in for the night; loud, obnoxious and tactlessly talking about everyone around them. When asked about themselves or their relationship to Geoff they’re both frustratingly vague, Jeremy chattering away without saying much at all and Ray simply staring people down until they can’t bear the tension.

Michael and Ryan set off together to explore the room but quickly separate to accommodate their vastly different methods of surveillance. Ryan skulks into the background, ducking numerous attempts to catch his interest in favour of fading into unlit corners and empty nooks, frightening the life out of anyone trying to slip away for some private time. Michael, on the other hand, seems determined to be the life of the party, cheerfully making conversation only to laugh in the face of every so-called achievement, ruffling feathers and causing major offence wherever he goes.

Gavin slinks off like a man on a mission and doesn’t come back for over an hour, offering no explanation for the absence beyond a dangerously self-satisfied smirk. His work becomes obvious soon enough anyway, once the yelling starts; Geoff’s two main high-school tormentors, mentioned only in passing stories over the years, simultaneously having huge, public, relationship-ending blow ups with each of their significant others. What are the odds? Across the hall Gavin laughs, all tinkling glass and sparkling charm, smoothly working the room like Michael’s mirror opposite.

Jack stays at Geoff’s side all night, hackles raised into something abnormally cold and unimpressed any time someone comes up to speak to them, protective instincts in full force no matter how often Geoff claims to be unaffected. He fills her in on all the worst gossip about those who approach, and as the night progresses and general unease begins to spread Jack mellows, sinking back into something sweet and mocking, somehow even more unsettling playing docile arm-candy than she was rabid guard dog.

Throughout the night the Fake AH Crew remain a key topic of every casual conversation; they might have been regardless, even this far from Los Santos no one can get enough of their scandals, but with the huge heist pulled just last week there was no way to avoid it, everyone has their two cents, their praise and condemnation. It’s too funny, the whole crew killing themselves trying not to break character, to laugh or correct or manipulate the conversation but all their self-control is well rewarded in the end.

Half the room removed their masks less than an hour into the night; too difficult to eat and talk and drink in, too vain to keep their hard earned looks covered, so it’s not at all strange when the Fake’s start to follow suit. Jeremy and Ray start it, the newest member and the one caught on camera the least often, casually dropping their masks mid-conversation. They each get a confused squint or two, a double glance, a few individuals trying to place them, remember how they’d met before, why they were so familiar.

Next came Gavin and Michael, having goaded each other out onto the dance-floor they were playing as much as they were moving to the music, laughing and grappling and generally making a bit of a scene. They snatch off each other’s masks as they play and the looks double, because alone they’re each distinctive but together, together, people have seen those faces together, somewhere they’ve seen them and so often together..

Last is Jack and Geoff, more graceful than their counterparts and moving with far more purpose they reveal their faces in the centre of the room and, like a party trick, they instantly catch the whole room’s attention. Out of context, in ones and twos where they don’t belong, the members of the FAHC could be mistaken but no one in the country would fail to recognise Ramsey and Patillo, the kingpin and his right hand, rulers of the most well-known gang in the US. And here they stand, casually mingling at a high school reunion.

In the calm before the storm the crew gravitates back towards one another, can almost see the cogs turning around them, the lightbulbs flickering on in a slow ripple spreading out across the room, disbelief and the first hint of horror swirling together as people start unconsciously reaching for their phones. As Ryan slips back out and wanders over, the last still masked, always masked, the chatter seems to crescendo then crash into something still and almost silent as a room full of entitled trust-fund babies recognise their own terror.

Finally uncovered and flanked by his family Geoff’s grin creeps across his face, slow and violent and more confirmation than anyone needed as he lets the oppressive tension sit for a long moment, arms spreading out to his sides like a magician revealing a clever trick before he breaks the silence; Surprise motherfuckers.

Guns are pulled from jackets and from there it’s all running and screaming, no honour or courage, just a stampede for the exits to the sound of cackling laughter and the occasional aimless pot-shot. The Fake’s aren’t looking for lives, not worth the hassle really, and this job certainly has no monetary reward beyond the wallets Geoff’s filthy little thieves have no doubt absconded with, but the fear in the air is delightful and even the sound of incoming sirens can’t ruin the mood. If anything it only hypes them up further, all savage grins and ramping excitement as they make for doors, reloading their weapons and pumping themselves up for a whole new police force to terrorise, Geoff’s magnificent little miscreants.

On the way out they pass a wall of yearbook photos, blown up large and captioned with names and all the old superlative awards. Ryan stumbles to a halt and snorts, snatching one off the wall and tucking it into his jacket to take back to the penthouse, though not before flashing the Lads a glance at that all too recognisable face, sending them into peals of screeching laughter as they pour out into the night. Geoffrey Fink; Least likely to succeed. 

Misha Collins @ SeaCon

was pretty much worth the price of admission, tbh:

  • When asked what he shipped, went off on a tangent about how when he first started conning few dared ask that question and he had no idea what it meant (while now he knows what an OTP is), and then said he wasn’t going to give his usual answers with the car or Bobby, before finally saying, ‘Well, I’ve written a lot of Wincest.’
  • Thinks Cas prefers to be an angel rather than a human (because he’s going to be a weird misfit dork as any species and at least as an angel he’s got superpowers).
  • When asked where is Sam’s handprint brand from when Cas pulled him out of hell, gave a pretty much unrepeatable answer about doing it where/how it wouldn’t leave a visible scar. It’s what you’re thinking, if you have a dirty mind. There were gestures. And the Cas voice (something like, “It might sting…”)
  • Confirmed the existence of X-rated cast&crew-party-only gag reels.
  • Is unbelievably adorable with his kids (which, obviously, but the way his voice changes around them, aww).
  • Would not win the Newlywed Game (because he and his spouse are not newlyweds!)
3

When you gain an army of new followers overnight.

The Bubbler / Le Bulleur


Bonus:

When you realize you have nothing new to post because you’ve been on hiatus…