I do not know about you, but I have spent far too much time trying to locate the pieces of me someone will love. I do want to be with him, I do. I just realized that suddenly I was nineteen and begging my mom to tell me what to do, tell me how special I was, tell me to forget him because she loved me and she would always love me.Why did I fight her words for so long? I fear, I have been so worried about finding someone to love me that I forgot she was getting older. I placed my first love on a shelf.
—  (118 / 365)

Some NaLu for the birthday girl shandisworld

I am actually happy with how this came out, since I tried out some new ways of colouring for the first time xD

Anywho, Happy birthday Shandi, my lovely friend whom puts up with my chatter and continues to share her talent with our little fandom. I hope you have a beautiful day! Ah.. and instead of baby Natsu, you got big Natsu’s smile. ;)

Do not use or repost!


Crappy late night (early morning?) pic of my second AR build. It’s also my second Colt rifle which would technically make it my third AR but I sold the first Colt before I started the whole project. Colt LE901-16S, old model with “cheese grater” rail but it did come with the conversion kit so I can slap on any AR-15 upper onto it. I’ll do a more detailed post on this later when I have more time and better lighting. I did get my Trijicon VCOG today, I’m just waiting for my Lantac Dragon 762 to come in. (GRH)

So apparently my first column at Cracked really rustled some jimmies. That’s cool. I’ve been rustling jimmies for a long time, and I’m pretty good at it. That I’m saying “rustling jimmies” is probably rustling a few jimmies right now, in fact. And while I never thought I would earn a handsome living at it, that’s just what I’ve been doing for going on six years now. Not much amazes me anymore, but I’m still always a bit shocked at people who don’t understand how the Internet operates. So out of sheer graciousness, I decided to give you all some insight into how trolling the Internet for fun and profit actually works. Hopefully this will help you to craft better indignant comments in the future.

6 Things You Learn Getting Paid To Troll People Online



// #7 Thought Process Behind An Image //

This is I feel is one of my best street photographs I’ve taken. The reason for this is because it was the very first time that I got a sense of being attracted to a subject, as the famous street photographer Henri-Carter Bresson once quoted “An intuitive awareness”. This man was huddled down and all in black with grey hair, couldn’t see his face as he was immersed in his own world scrawling on the pavement. People were walking across his work uninterested in what he was doing. I knelt down, focused on him and recomposed the shot. At the time I pressed the shutter a man walked into the frame which was by mistake as I wanted the man to be on his own but realized after I took the photo the man walking across his writing added to the photograph because he was oblivious to what he was doing.

I know myself years ago in my late teens and early 20s I would have looked at this same man writing on the pavement and would become judgmental of him. But with learning photography you think different when looking through the viewfinder. An amazing Street Photographer Zun Lee perfectly describes ‘an emotional connection which as much about self-discovery and identity exploration as the revelation of the subject’. You become less judgmental and have compassion. Photography gives you a second eye, gives greater empathy because you are looking at the world from the subject’s point of view and not judging the person.

I titled the photograph - ‘Soul Writer’.

Submit a link to LuxLit of your original work for reblog consideration.  We bring art to light!

nt’s fic recs (30/?)

Apple of My Eye by Bernie_N (now orphaned)

“The Dwarf scoffs. ‘You are unbelievable. I do not come to the libraries to be harassed by a…’ he takes stock of Bilbo now, properly, as if for the first time, and frowns when he glances at his feet. 'Hobbit?'”

Teen+ // MM // Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield // Erebor Never Fell AU

(26/05/15: Love Up Fic Writers Month)

lavenderblue-kittykitty asked:

What were Maester Aemon's three trials, if we know? There was Robert's Rebellion, the quiet offering of the throne, and..... Perhaps something I missed?

The quote you’re speaking of is pretty interesting.

Maester Aemon sighed. “Have you heard nothing I’ve told you, Jon? Do you think you are the first?” He shook his ancient head, a gesture weary beyond words. “Three times the gods saw fit to test my vows. Once when I was a boy, once in the fullness of my manhood, and once when I had grown old.”


You’re right in thinking that two of those tests were Robert’s Rebellion and the Great Council of 233AC. The Rebellion, when Aemon’s Targaryen relatives were murdered and exiled, was in 283 AC when he was 85, so that’s obviously the test when he “had grown old”. The Great Council, when the lords who feared Aegon the Unlikely’s connection to the smallfolk offered the throne to Aemon first (and he refused, and took Night’s Watch vows in addition to his maester’s vows to prevent any further political intrigues) was when he was 35, so that’s the test that came “in the fullness of [his] manhood”.

So the question is, what tested Aemon’s vows when he was a boy? Well, first of all, note he took maester’s vows in 217 AC when he was 19, so we can understand that when Aemon said “boy” he meant as a teenager/young man, not that he was a child. We also know that when his father Maekar became king in 221 AC, he summoned Aemon (then 23) to court to serve the throne – but Aemon didn’t want to serve on the Small Council and undercut the Grand Maester, so he chose to serve as a castle maester to his brother Daeron (the crown prince) instead. But that event doesn’t seem to have been a test of Aemon’s vows – that is, nobody suggested he stop being a maester, he only had to figure out the best way to be one among the politics of King’s Landing – so we can assume it was not the boyhood test he spoke about.

Therefore, without any real evidence, we can only speculate. We have the example of several teenage Night’s Watch members to see the subjects that test their vows– and that’s (a) when their family’s in danger, and (b) sex and/or love. For the first, we know that the Rat, the Hawk, and the Pig were active around 217 AC, and assaulted Aemon’s cousin; and the Third Blackfyre Rebellion was in 219 AC. But there were plenty of Targaryens to deal with these events, many trained warriors and much more suitable to handle the situation than the academic Aemon; so they really shouldn’t have presented the sort of temptation to break vows that Ned Stark’s arrest was for Jon Snow.

So, I’d think that the most likely thing that caused Aemon’s vows to be tested when he was a teenager or young man, the thing that made him want to stop being a maester with their vows of chastity and obedience, was the temptations of a pretty girl – and not just for sex (as maesters, like the NW, tend to be somewhat hypocritical there), but that he fell in love with her. GoT also suggested as much, in s4e9, when Aemon tells Sam there was one girl whose advances he accepted back when he was a prince (and his memories of her are more real to him than Sam is). But there’s also evidence that suggests this conclusion in the books. We see in AFFC’s prologue the Quill and Tankard, an inn where Citadel novices and acolytes come to drink and enjoy the company of serving wenches, an inn that reportedly has never closed in 600 years. Besides the young men in the prologue, we know a few other patrons of the inn – notably Dunk and Egg, and also Aemon himself.

“There is an inn on an island in the Honeywine where I used to go when I was a young novice. It will be pleasant to sit there once again, sipping cider.” –AFFC, Samwell I

And so, like the unfortunate Pate fell in love with the serving girl Rosey and considered running away from the Citadel and wandering Westeros with her, it’s probable that Aemon also encountered a serving girl at the inn and fell in love. But though his vows were tested, he remained a maester, so we can only assume that whatever happened, the relationship didn’t work out. (kittenbalerion has a sweet and sad little fanfic on the subject, if you’re interested.)

Note, it’s possible that this third test could have been about something else altogether, or if love was the test then it was no serving girl but someone more highborn– but unless we find out more about Aemon’s life at the Citadel in some D&E story, this is probably all we’re going to get. Hope that helps!

sherlock starting to spend a lot of time at bart’s post-s3 to keep himself out of the house and away from john’s empty chair. meeting a new lab technician there and being too listless and burned out to bother ripping him to shreds with deductions. as a result, the man actually chats to him. first of all it’s talk about the weather and the traffic and last night’s telly and sherlock doesn’t care, but the technician’s perceptive, notices he’s losing his audience and turns talk to the equipment in the labs, recent technological advances and prototype kit being tested abroad and what they each specialised in at Uni to earn their degree and suddenly sherlock finds himself talking shop with a fellow chemist and it’s new. it’s good. gradually, he finds himself less bothered whenever talk turns to trivia. there’s something refreshing about that part, too.

the man’s name is Jacob, which is a useless name, “Jake” is even worse and he tells him so on one of his less charitable days, but it doesn’t get him much more than a laugh and the suggestion of a lab coat if he wants to avoid losing his suit to dangerous chemicals. weeks go on like this until one day he’s invited out for a drink when the work day’s over and usually he wouldn’t go, god knows, god knows usually he’d dismiss it out of hand but there’s no case on and it’s getting harder and harder to be at home.

one drink. keeping up conversation with him outside of a common environment isn’t actually especially difficult. two drinks. he’s plain, lives an entirely boring life outside of the labs (and a mediocre one at best within them) but he’s a couple of inches taller than sherlock and a couple of years younger and his hair is chestnut brown and he’s of lean build and his surname is Keele not Wallace or Weston and almost nothing about him is anything like– “Jacob” can’t be helped. and anyway, one shared initial should not a reminder make.

there’s been interest there from the start, sherlock isn’t blind to the signs, and after the third drink he thinks he might go home with him. “… do you want to call it a night?” perceptive. right, yes, he’s perceptive. sherlock had forgotten. he’ll have to be more careful of that in the future.

he doesn’t go home with him that night, but it doesn’t take them too much longer.

john popping around to 221b for the first time in a week and a half, all apologies and dark bags under his eyes and finding sherlock just as distracted as he always is. being here is getting harder and harder. sherlock’s more distant with every visit and coming over at all is a catch twenty two: john knows what the problem is, it’s the same thing that keeps him up all night and away for longer and longer and it isn’t going away, but he doesn’t want to go away either. can’t stand to keep his distance.

he asks the customary “alright?”, gets the customary grunt. sherlock heads to the kitchen to sort out the customary cup of tea and he hates this, he honestly does. customary. jesus. time was they were the least customary people he’s ever known. john asks him what he’s been up to and sherlock dutifully recounts his week in enough detail that he can hear the elephant trumpeting in the brief quiet between each sentence. the two minute summary amounts to “nothing much,” and so he searches the flat for any hope of something more promising to talk about before sherlock feels compelled to ask the inevitable question– he finds it. a jacket of unknown origin laying over the arm of the sofa.

“client forgot their coat?” sherlock seems confused until john points it out to him - the fog clears, but the odd expression left behind puts john on edge. “oh. no.” “… it doesn’t look like it’s your style.” “no. it’s not mine.” “right.” sherlock pauses for a moment, assesses him - presumably trying to work out how likely he is to drop it if sherlock doesn’t give him what he’s after - and turns back to the tea. “it’s jacob’s.” “jacob’s.” “yes,” john stays silent, and the pause pregnant with a question he doesn’t really feel the need to ask. eventually, sherlock starts up again, “he’s a lab technician at barts.”

a lab technician at bart’s. right. a lab technician at bart’s that john hasn’t met but sherlock has deigned both to speak to and remember the name of. …unless that isn’t actually his name at all but some vague approximation of what his name might be if sherlock had actually been listening when he told him. poor sod. “you leave something at the lab?” “no.” sherlock isn’t really getting the hang of leading questions today. “steal his coat when he botched up your blood samples?” “no.” sherlock turns with the tea, brushes past him to set the mugs down, one on john’s chairside table and one on the desk. he stops with his back to him, falls silent, and it’s not until now that john realises his hands are in fists.

“he came over for dinner.”

what? “–for takeaway, actually. i didn’t cook.” john hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “must have left it behind when he went. i didn’t notice.” it’s noon. sherlock notices everything. if this lab technician had been heading to leave without his coat after dinner, he would have noticed. the coat wouldn’t be here. john takes a closer look at sherlock’s turned back, becomes aware of the lack of his usual grooming, the sleep-mussed state of his hair. sherlock turns his head, turns it almost far enough to look back at john over his shoulder–

he pulls out a chair and sits down. john can’t move. he can’t move an inch. silence reigns, seconds stretch, all it still.

sherlock picks up his mug and turns the page of a newspaper. it almost looks casual. the almost is everything.

“how’s the baby?”

They met in a club that was designed to fulfill the darkest desires, assuming that they would never meet outside the walls of this establishment. But when Robin met Roland’s English teacher for the first time he was in for a surprise.



Yes, there are those times when inspiration strikes only because I got a message asking for some OQ smut. So … I did get some rude anon messages on here, regarding the length of my OQ stories and the time they think I invest in writing them, and just let me tell you … these messages totally killed my OQ muse … until now. So, if you want to read more about this universe, don’t harass me. Though I do appreciate nice messages. ;-)

I hope you enjoy this little OQ ficlet. First ‘real’ chapter will be up at the end of this weekend. :-)



He didn’t know why. Why no other woman was interesting him anymore. He’d joined this club because he needed to find an outlet for all the stress he was constantly under in real life, hoping it would help him juggle all his real life problems. And it did.

Having women submit to him in a safe environment was what he needed. It refreshed him, and the strict rules of the club helped with that. You set the rules beforehand, you always used a safe word, and you never crossed the lines that were set. Never.

Though he had to admit … she almost made him forget that there were any rules. From the first moment she’d entered the club and met his gaze. Dark hair, and dark eyes, her lips painted a bright red, wearing a corset that pushed her breasts up enticingly. He wanted her from the moment his eyes fell on her, ached for dominating her. Apparently she’d had the same desire. Walking over to him without hesitation, kneeling down in front of him, asking him if he would be her master for the night. God, he’d almost taken her right then and there.

It had been explosive - their first night together. He’d been harder on her than he’d been on any other woman before her, but she’d taken everything he’d dished out, and it had been magnificent, his orgasm nearly ripping him to shreds with its intensity.

Without talking about it this night changed everything. At least for him. He’d come back every Friday, waiting for her, not touching any other woman. Until she’d come back four weeks later, putting him out of his misery.

And now it was the first Friday of the month again, and she’d just stepped through the entrance, her eyes finding his instantly, and then she licked her lips, and his cock sprang to attention in a heartbeat.

It would be, without a doubt, another magnificent night.

rates bc the rockwave festival is this saturday

i’m going to my first festival ever woo (also seeing the black keys live what even!!)

mbf yours truly
reblog this (i am gonna check)
likes do not count
send me your all time favourite (eurovision) song for a rate

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following: yes // no sorry // forever // +followed

First day of work selfie and also the 20 beautiful women challenge because I’ve been tagged a few times now!

I’m sure most of these ladies have already been tagged but they’re worth mentioning. :) Go follow them!

theodosiagrace privilegedwhore meganmaverick hejk racheldotgov cinderalley moreofalarrk playpretendbetweenthetrees tellme-princess hnnhtylr taramaclaid fluteforchrist glitteringassemblage mountxxns alittlehope-alittlefaith kaitly-n carsonnicole kdcakes courtney-joanna labelleboheme

Yesterday was my first day of training as a server in a retirement home. The person who trained me was really nice, but there’s a lot to remember and older people are quite vocal when you do something wrong. I’m pretty nervous to go back, even though tonight I’m just shadowing someone again. I became fast and efficient pretty quickly in my last job, but that was retail and I just hate the learning curve and I hate getting flustered. It’s just a summer job and I’ll only be there for about 2 months so I hope I feel comfortable soon. I also started my online summer class. It looks pretty time consuming and I’m still kind of burnt out from the spring semester so hopefully I can stay on top of that!


   “ Having trouble sleeping? “

           “ I’ve been asleep for seventy years.
              I think I’ve had enough rest. “

                                                      written by tealeaf.

Do you ever think about the first time Nick an Kelly shared the couch together at Jacksonville? 

How they were probably both a little awkward at first. It’s barely big enough for two people and maybe they would have been better off with one of them staying on the floor after all instead of both of them shifting around, trying not to touch each other even though there isn’t enough room to avoid it. 

But then it’s Kelly who finally let’s out a huge sigh and just flings his leg out and hooks it over Nick. 

and Nick sort of tenses up like what the hell at first but Kelly just mutters “Deal with it.” And Nick does. 

Then he wakes up with Kelly wrapped around him snugly on the couch. Because apparently when there isn’t a pillow to wrap around a six foot plus marine will do just fine. 

so Nick just sighs and goes back to sleep. At least he isn’t on the floor. 

anonymous asked:

Roma One, how do you feel about the australian government asking states to remove taxes on tampons and pads? Do you generally think the way products are taxed is fair?

About fucking time the discussion was had. 
In Australia there is a 10% goods and services tax placed on all goods and services that aren’t considered necessary. 
Products exempted from the tax include condoms, lubricant, incontinence pads, basically many things deemed necessary, but I highlight these three in particular to highlight the  absurdity that menstrual products are taxed at 10%. 

Alas, the Minister for Women (that would be Tony Abbott) declared that it wasn’t something that needed looking into, and stated there would not be a federal push to do so. 

If incontinence pads and lubricant are deemed necessary, pads should be too. 

-Roma One

(and if there is a good reason for pads to be taxed I am interested to hear it. I have been asking a very long time, since I first noticed the * on my grocery bill - all GST attracting items must be marked - and as it was my only * it stood out a fair bit)

When I got this conversation, in my first playthrough, it both made me super happy and also broke my heart at the same time (*shakes fist* Biowaaareeee >_< ). Since I’ve been doing more angsty feely stuff recently, and since I tried my hand at Alistair and enjoyed it, I was super inspired to put it on comic form ^_^ 

Plus, a peek at my lovely warden, Lady Aeducan ^_-

Enjoy! ^_^;

Check it out on Deviant Art too! ^_^


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