still-not-happy-with-it-but-it-was-or-post-it-or-burn-it

anonymous asked:

5 & 6?

5. Favorite fic author?

Goddamn, way to put me on the spot there. Friiiiiick, okay. As far as a favorite fic author that I have read for many many years and keep returning to her fics across several different fandoms and continue to appreciate them? astolat all the way.

Current favorite fic author who I stalk literally everything she writes and do a happy chair dance when I see she has written something new? avelera.

6. Favorite fic

Oh my god, anon, you are literally the worst how dare you (mostly kidding but seriously this is so fucking hard).

For the number one fic in any fandom that I have recommended ad nauseum to whoever will listen, and I still hold up as one of the greatest transformative works I have ever had the pleasure of reading, I recommend Freeport by Maldoror. This is a Gundam Wing fic that is 2x5 (Duo/Wufei). It combines so many of my favorite things - sociopolitical commentary, slow-burn, a relationship between two damaged people where they each help each other to be better, soldiers coping with peacetime, and a beautifully rich setting.

But as far as my current favorite fic in my current fandom, the prize has to go to The Road Delivered Us Home by keelywolfe. It’s just such a perfect, poignant examination of the slow recovery from grief, and there’s so much pining, but at the same time it’s against this backdrop of endless cute because Dwalin gets adopted by fauntlings and Frodo is the sweetest thing. It’s just lovely.

It's Friday!!!

Spent some time today hanging and placing artwork around the office at the request of the boss lady (who wasn’t in). I felt like Charlotte (from Sex and the City) without the stick up her ass.

I also devised two different time sheets, on Excel, for her review on Monday. I hate Excel with the blinding passion of 826 burning suns.

I did a bunch of other shit too, but it was all pretty boring.

I love Quickbooks as much as I hate Excel.

I still love new coworker, but all she did was play with photoshop all day. I think we need to switch jobs. I’m serious, but that’s a whole other post.

Happy Friday!

Broken Strings

Reply to: blackandbluesorcerer

Song to go with it: Here

“From the ashes of fire rises beauty, master. Even though the flames of Noxus have forever branded your flesh you may still create a masterpiece. You are as beautiful as the day you were born, master, even your hands, and no amount of pain can ever change that. When you look upon your own flesh you may only see hatred and fire, but when I look upon them I see something beautiful. I see the bright burning passion that dwells within you.” 

The yordle stood form his seat on the ground, a bright shinning smile on his face as he looked to the ceiling. “Things must be taken one at a time, master. Like notes on a staff. Alone they are nothing, but once you add them together they become something beautiful. You and I are like those notes. We are just two and alone we are nothing. Just the same the violin is nothing without us. Without gentle hands to guide its bow it can not grace the world with its beauty.” 

From the dark the small gem around the yordle’s neck began to glow bright and fiery, as if it were burning with the passion that remained trapped within the warlock himself. “You mustn’t be ashamed of your injuries, Master. They are a gift to you. They are what make you beautiful, but you can not let them damped the fire that burns within you.” 

“From the ashes of fire rises beauty. Now let me show you what your fire can create.” Gently the yordle began to twist his hands through the air, a smile upon his face as he seemed to dance with dance with the fire that poured from his gem and slowly the soft ethereal chimes of bells could be heard. They were quiet at first, almost silent, but as the yordle’s hands conducted through the fire their mysterious sound began to grow. 

“Your fire can create beautiful things master; you must only know what to do with it.” Gently the sound of strings fell in with the bells, their gentle hum bringing calmness to the bells. After the strings came the wind, powerful and proud, bringing silence to the strings. “Alone we are nothing.. but once you find the balance within yourself you can create a masterpiece!” As the yordle’s hands twisted through the flames his crystal exploded with the fire that burned within, engulfing the two in a masterful symphony. As his hands commanded the symphony followed. 

Slowly the instruments quieted, the bells taking control of the piece once more as the sound of raindrops joining in with the symphony. “This is your fire, master. This is the fire that burns within your heart. You mustn’t always destroy. You have the power to create too. Use it now. Join in with your masterpiece.” From the fires above fell an instrument of his own into the yordle’s hands. A violin. Light as a feather and cool to the touch. “Alone it is nothing. Alone you are nothing. But together you shall become something amazing.” 

I’m wearing a long sleeve shirt in black and it’s the hottest day of the year, in that exact order. Because I’ve been inside all week, because I’ve forgotten about human skin that burns with consequences, and because tragedies make more sense in the winter.

In class the professor asks, WHY ARE IMMIGRANT WOMEN INVISIBLE. Fifteen minutes in everyone pretends they can’t hear me crying, Or no, more like dismantling on cue. It’s all very ironic, no? On Monday I write a poem about uprooted limbs, I say, being an immigrant is like digging yourself deeper into a grave, and being happy it’s in America, and damn, English is not even her first language, and damn, yes, the irony of it is caramel. But on Tuesday the professor asks about ghosts, or immigrants, and there is no irony in how my tongue still refuses the language, nothing unexpected about how I slip up and use the wrong verb tense. Suddenly

I’m stumbling my way out of the classroom and the professor keeps talking and no one looks at me, and it all happens in whatever order is preferred.  

anonymous asked:

In the beginning after your awakening, did you encounter a dark night of the soul? could you say you were generally much happier then before the experience? Anything more you want to say about the beginnings of your post awakening life? anything you havent mentioned before?

I’m not sure of what a dark night of the soul really entails, but I definitely had a few days of intense fear, confusion, dissociation and regret for taking up such a journey at all. These days were the final burning up of the idea of a separate self and they weren’t very pleasant. But though I didn’t know it at the time, I was being held gently by a certain grace. In fact, I am still held by that grace, only now I know it directly.

I had a very happy childhood. It was only in my teens that I began to question what I was being told and what I believed. This questioning was fueled by a growing unhappiness and it also brought about more unhappiness as I continued with the process. But as the journey came to the doorway of awakening, unhappiness fell away. Now, there remains an unshakable peace and knowing that all is well.

Early on after awakening, I had a very strong feeling of completion, of finally having arrived and that there was nothing left to see. Thought it felt great and was appropriate for the time, I soon came to discover that life is an ongoing journey with no beginning or end and that there is an infinite amount of things to see. Now my focus lies on moving further on this path, not with the intention of arriving anywhere, because I’ve already arrived, but with the intention of exploring, growing and discovering more of the many aspects of existence.

TAG

Rules: Tag 10 people

Name: Nellie

Nickname: Nelz

Birthday: aussie dayyy 26 jan

Starsign: Aquarius

Height: 171 cm

Gender: Female

Sexual orientation : Calum HooD

Romantic orientation: Calum hood

Favourite colour: uI reallly cant choose but clothing wise navy

Time and date as of right now: 25 April ANZAC Dayy y’all 7:59

Average Hours of sleep: i think round 7 and a half or something idk im always tired still lel

lucky number: 6

Last thing i googled: Indigestion and heart burn (DONT JUDGE ITS MY ASSESSMENT)

First word that comes to mind: tax (doing math hw rn)

A place that makes me happy: My bed

How many blankets do i sleep under: 1

Fave fictional character: dunno if this counts but CHANDLER FREAKING BING

Fave famous people: demi lovatio is an inspiration to everyone  (5sos yeah )

Celeb Crush: 5sos- rn im having the worst calum feels omg

Fave book: looking for alaska john green

fave anime: i dont like it soz

Fave tv show: FRIENDS !!!

Fave bands: 5sos, 1D, atl, panic! and the disco yeah idk

fave game: idk

Last movie: clueless

Wearing right now: black tights, white nike top, black jacket, white socks

last book i read: the book thief

i was tagged by: 5sos-represent

i tag: 

kiwiboisreject

ritaandary3

mentalsluthahayouperv

xrxjxct

anya-taylor-posts

kimloves5sos1d

laxtoday

vampsftmendes

whatevshoran

Arrow Lovefest: ash818

Every time ash818 posts something, I do a little happy dance. Her short piece “plus ca change” was one of the first Arrow fics I read and is still one of my absolute favorites. I’ve read it probably a million times.

Her Legacy-verse is phenomenal. Unestablished, slow burn-y Olicity is my jam–I’m not a big fan of established, and I’m even less of a fan of older Olicity. But ash has created this universe that just feels so true to the overall tone of the show, with spot-on characterization and a new cast of characters that are well thought out and leap off the page. And as if that wasn’t enough, her stories have PLOT. Like an actual through-line that goes from beginning to middle to end, and it feels very Arrow-y, the kinds of things that could actually happen on the show.

In short, I am a fan of ash’s. A big one. :P

Random Thoughts on Marvel/Tumblr’s hatred for Joss Whedon

This is gonna be a long post about Marvel. Basically things I see on tumblr about how certain story and character decisions are being perceived. I’m not going to claim to know everything about Marvel, the comics or the MCU, just some of my thoughts.

Keep reading

Tired!! I just kind of arrived from Sakura Matsuri. I went as nyo!Japan Navy Version. Because lol I didn’t get to finish the top for 2p!nyo!Japan because homeworks lol*cries* but it was a ton of fun and I didn’t expect for people to still recognize me as Japan. It was embarrassing since I was receiving compliments and I was just - my face was burning cause lol oh no don’t say too many nice things I’ll die. *covers face* and I thought at first that I didn’t do a good job so that made me happy a bit that people liked it. UuU then I met a  cosplayer at the bus. gah and they’re so cool. Now we are friends >///u///<)9

Winter comes and you’re still here. Even when the storms arrive you stay put. Black ice is dangerous so you stay home but even thought it’s dangerous out there you still go with me every where I go. And even when it’s snowing so hard you can hardly see you still drive to me. Why so kind to me. Then summer comes and everything is hot. Everything is better, yet when the sun is burning hot and everyone is screaming from their lungs you’re just there drinking your cold pop. You go out and play and always ask me out. Let’s get some ice cream or some Mexican stuff. Summer is the only time I get to see you smile like no other. Sweat like no other, don’t get me wrong but you’re skin during summer is beautiful, so beautiful it bothers me when people look at it. In April it’s your birthday and that’s the month it showers. The more it showers the closer it gets, I’m excited and I bet you are as well. It is so beautiful to admire you even when the fall comes along, where everything is falling apart you still stay and look at the colorful leaves falling from the sky. You stay still and look surprise like you’ve never seen this process before. And after, you still wait for spring to come, you watch everything fall just so everything falls back into is place. Why so patient and so kinda to this world. When everyone knows the time keeps going and people move on. Why when you know the earth is bound to fail and so are we as humans. Why enjoy the moments we are bound to forget. Why are you still looking at me, no one looks at me for that long. No one ever stay for this long. No one ever craves me this much.
—  Acac
  • Breakfast:
    Oatmeal pancakes w/ peanut butter.
  • Snack:
    Smoothie; Banana, skim milk, ground coffee, cocoa, honey, whey protein powder.
  • Lunch:
    Beetroot salad w/ chicken, and danish feta.
  • Dinner:
    Vegetarian chili w/ sweet potato and greek yoghurt. Roasted brussel sprouts.

I find it hard to believe that I only burned 62 calories by doing level 1 of the 30DS and half an hour of hooping… but whatever. This is why you can’t trust electronics :P
Aside from falling below my calorie goal, I’m super happy with today! I managed to stay below all of my macros, which I’m very proud of. Usually I’d be like “Whatever, what difference is 10 grams?” But that shit adds up, and I can’t keep making excuses. 

That being said, its kinda difficult when you’ve run out of macros but still have over 300 calories to consume. Its like, tell me Myfitnesspal, what do I do? 

I have such a love/hate relationship with that app.

alexsdumbstuff replied to your post:My parents are dead to me…

what the heck happened

Me: -hops in shower and is in there for five minutes-
Step dad: “How long you plan on being in there?”
Me: “I just got in?”
Step dad: “That’s a lie.”
Me -thinking ‘bitch did you watch my ass get in the shower or not what the fuck?’- “Uh yeah I did.” -steps out and opens door a bit. “My hair is still dry see?” (I wash my body first)
Step dad: “Uh the mirror is fogged up! Meaning you’ve been in there for a long ass time.”
Me: -stares at him with disbelief and wants to kill this stupid uneducated bitch for his ill knowledge of how something so SIMPLE AS FUCKING HYDRATION/GAS/HUMIDITY/TEMPERATURE EFFECTS ON Water has-

Mom has been riding everyone’s ass and I can’t have one moment of happiness before she burns it.

My dad is being a fucking child and needs to grow the fuck up. 

okteiviaenlinkon asked:

Alicia ( I know you said know more but I saw the post when you first posted it but my net cut out cause of the weather ;u;)

Aw darling, its alright! Thank you for going out of your way to still message me <3

the prolonging aroma of the bakery down the road, burning red locks brushing across your face, a surprise hug from behind

Send me your name and I’ll tell you what I associate it with :) 

glaycia replied to your post: glaycia replied to your post: glaycia …

THE WORST PART THAT THIS HAS HAPPENED MULTIPLE TIMES AND I STILL REACT THE SAME i’m p sure i know what hell feels like at this point. but ugh i hate it especially when they get on my sheets i just want to burn it then eeughh

I thought I was suffering hOLY SHIT THEY GET IN YOUR SHEETS TOO?? NNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

PRAYER CIRCLE FOR MISSY

Kirby Takes The Cake (long post)

The chorus of birds chirping amid the trees and the slight disturbances caused by a stray morning breeze failed to awake Kirby from his slumber. Having lived up in his treehouse for a long time, he was used to the sounds around him by now. They were common noises, proving to be more of a fresh greeting to him rather than a nuisance. As a result, he continued to sleep peacefully while the sound of his normal breathing pervaded the small amount of space inside the treehouse.

Suddenly, the door to the treehouse was kicked open a little roughly and a Jigglypuff entered, a cake present in her tiny nubs. Looking toward the bed, she smirked amusingly when she saw that Kirby was still asleep. Not that she was surprised; she knew that the puffball liked to sleep in and thus didn’t ordinarily wake up early. She was also thankful that her earlier kick hadn’t awoken him. She hadn’t planned on doing so, but didn’t really have any other options when it came to opening said door due to how her nubs were occupied, what with carrying the cake and all.

She proceeded to carefully place the cake on the table at the back of the treehouse near the fireplace, which had long gone out by now with nothing but dull, grey ashes left in the grate. She took one last look at the cake; given Kirby’s appetite, the whole thing would be gone before she even knew it. It was spherical in shape, with a chocolate-flavored coating that contained rich and creamy fudge on the inside. On top, written in pink icing (it seemed like such a fitting color to choose) were cursive words spelling out, Happy Birthday Kirby! She smiled at the celebratory dessert treat, giggling softly as she thought of how joyous and ecstatic the little puffball would be when he woke up and saw what awaited him on his special day.

Now it was time to break the news to him; any missed sleep on his part would have to be made up later. She had gone through quite a bit of trouble to acquire this cake, along with quite a bit of muffled cursing on her behalf due to how she found out the hard way that Kirby’s treehouse didn’t have a ladder or any other easy method to gain access besides jumping from the multiple tree branches or, in her case, floating upward like a balloon until she reached the porch that encompassed the cabin-like structure (not easy to do when holding a cake). Due to the effort and sweat she had put into getting this cake for him, she wasn’t willing to wait until he naturally woke up to witness his reaction.

After approaching the bed, she began to give the puffball a few gentle shakes with her nubs. “Kirby! Kirby! Wake up, Kirby!”

The puffball stirred a few times, but didn’t open his eyes until a good thirty seconds had passed. He let out a small, light yawn before groggily looking at the balloon Pokémon.

“S-Sylv?” he wearily asked, rubbing his sleep-infested eyes. “W-what wrong? W-what the time?”

She gave him an unamused look. “Do you not honestly remember what today is, Kirby?”

When the pink puffball simply blinked his eyes back at her without responding, she sighed deeply. She knew Kirby was just a child, but she still hadn’t quite gotten over how naive and forgetful he could be. It did irritate her at times (not that she ever told him this).

“How about you get out of bed and look over toward the table?” she suggested, offering forth her nubs in case he needed some support in doing so.

After a few groans, Kirby heaved himself out of bed and almost fell upon the floor in the process. In his groggy state, he completely forgot about putting on his cap and sword sheath (the former was lying atop the adjacent window ledge while the latter was lying at the base of the bed). Sylvia noticed this, but didn’t bother to remind him. After all, if what she was imagining would happen came true, it was better that they be left where they were for the time being.

Holding onto Sylvia’s nubs for support, he raised his head toward the table in the back and noticed the spherical cake sitting on top of it. He simply blinked at it for a little while, examining its exterior details from where he stood.

Seeing how he still didn’t understand, Sylvia led him closer to the table so that the words in pink icing were visible to the puffball. “Now do you understand?”

Even with his childish nature and limited vocabulary skills, he quickly understood what it meant. A smile erupted across his face and he let out an excited squeal. He let go of Sylvia’s nubs, sat down upon one of the stumps circling the table that acted as chairs, pulled the cake hastily in his direction, and buried his head in the rich, chocolate-coated exterior.

Sylvia smirked amusingly at his immature actions, glad that he had finally understood the significance of the situation. While she generally disapproved of a number of the puffball’s childish antics, she made an exception due to it being his birthday and all. She walked up next to him and gave him a few gentle pats on his shoulder. His face, coated with chocolate and cake dough, emerged from the delicious treat and looked up at her quizzically.

“Even though you are a year older, it seems like some things never change,” she said.

He blinked at her a few times, his chocolate-coated face making him seem so adorable to the balloon Pokémon that she couldn’t help but giggle. Then she did something that she would never have thought of doing had it been any other day of the year. She leaned her head down and gave him a gentle kiss on his cheek, not caring about how she got some flecks of chocolate on her lips as a result.

“All the same, here’s wishing you a happy birthday, Kirby.”