The T18 Boarhound

While the T17 Staghound met the US Army’s requirement for a medium Armored car, The T18 Boarhound was it’s heavier stablemate. The British Army ordered 2500 units, but only 30 were delivered and the vehicle never saw combat.

The Boarhound was armed with a 57mm Main Gun and 2 7.62 M1919 Machine guns.


[Hetalia: TWT - Summer Comiket -  Acrylic Keychain]


  • Set A (Axis) - 1500 JPY
  • Set B (Allies) - 2500 JPY

Size: about 5-6cm

They’ll be for sale in Animate stores Sendai, Chiba, Nagoya, Tennoji, Sannomiya, Kyoto, Fukuoka Tenjin, Nihonbashi Osaka, Yokohama, Shinjuku after August 20th

i did it i finally bought the sweatshirt from cleo’s slavica line because there are hardly any left in stock and it’s going to be discontinued soon, that is my preemptive Thesis present to myself, i’ve got 2500/3500 words, uraaa

anonymous asked:

Why am I not happy on this hclf lifestyle? I'm barely eating now :(

you’re probably not happy because you’re barely eating!!! if you’re gonna go hclf, you HAVE to eat enough food. As in, 2500+ calories!

maybe you’re not happy on this lifestyle because hclf isnt for you?? i don’t follow hclf because every time i try to i just crave healthy fats haha, so i always include some healthy fats in my diet (peanut butter, avocado, hummus, coconut milk, etc.) every body is different and we’re not all gonna thrive on the same macronutrient intake. listen to your body and find what works for you :) xx


I let race trump rape

“Like many of the women who say they were assaulted by Bill Cosby, it took me two decades to gain the courage to reveal it publicly. His accusers – mostly white, so far – have faced retaliation, humiliation and skepticism by coming forward. As an African American woman, I felt the stakes for me were even higher. Historic images of black men being vilified en masse as sexually violent sent chills through my body. Telling my story wouldn’t only help bring down Cosby; I feared it would undermine the entire African American community.

…Admitting that Cosby is a rapist would feel like giving in to white America’s age-old stereotypes about black men. It would be akin to validating fears that African American men are lustful and violent. It would be taking away one of our greatest and most inspiring role models – one many African Americans feel we can’t afford to lose.

…Soon after I told my story, I ran into a successful African American photographer who asked me, ‘Sister, is it true?’ The tone of his question made it sound like our father had died. ‘I’m sorry, brother, but it is true. Do not let this weaken you in any way,’ I told him.

Cosby was once a source of hope for many African Americans. But fictional icons like him should not wield so much power over our collective spirit. Our nation’s greatest African American heroes have been on the front lines of Civil Rights efforts, not in our television sets. They are in the mothers and fathers who fought real-life challenges to raise us and in the teachers and professors who worked long hours to educate us. Bill Cosby did not lead the March on Washington, and ‘The Cosby Show’ didn’t end racism. The only legacy at stake is of one entertainer, not of black manhood, as I once feared.” Excerpted from an article by Jewel Allison for the Washington Post.

Read more

Photo by Yana Paskova for The Washington Post

2,500+ Followers

It’s not much of a milestone from the last follower count we had but I wanted to do one of those weird follow forever things but I feel like it’ll take ages so instead I’ll send you a “Thank you” message individually because we’re all very grateful that you follow this blog 😁😁

-admin blxnktae

Thank you, thank you, thank you... x25,000

I’ve always enjoyed seeing how quickly and slowly my follower count rises (and then falls). When I first started this blog, I would go through and religiously check every couple of minutes, just to see if I had gained a follower or two. I’d always be absolutely giddy at the sight of a number getting even slightly bigger. And while the excitement of a new follower has not disappeared, the scale has increased quite dramatically.

Just before midnight last night, I crossed the line marking 25,000 followers. 

And while it may mean nothing to you who read this blog (just give me the music, I don’t care about the backstory!!!!!), I just wanted to say thank you to those who do care. I get messages almost daily saying how much you enjoy the site, or how much you love that new artist, and I try to respond to each and every one (save for those anons, c’mon now). Your constant support is unbelievably appreciated, and I will never be able to thank you enough.

The best feeling in the world is sharing the music you love with others who love it just as much, and I get the honor of feeling that everyday.

Don’t forget to share what you love with those who you love, and, as always, keep on listening.


Bound, Part 3

Band Member: Michael
Type: Vampire AU
Request: “ Honestly… I just really need a vampire!michael where he takes you for your amazing blood ( O- or something I read that’s their fav) bc he needs a ‘blood slave’ And he falls in love with you, and starts to want to make you feel good while he drinks your blood instead of hurting you like it did in the beginning” - Anon.
Details: Please read Bound, Part 1 and Bound, Part 2 first!

Your first steps out of the cell were stiff and awkward, your heart hammering in your chest as you waited for Michael to spring out of the darkness and lock you back inside. You tread tentatively towards the door; shallow, shaking breaths rattling in your lungs as you made your escape.
You’d forgotten what it felt like to have the wind brush across your cheeks and tangle through your hair, the goosebumps prickling at your skin as you tried to settle the tremors that shook your body.
You had no idea where you were, a circle of trees surrounded the house and blocked the view of the horizon. A rough, gravel road split the forest in two, edging out through the trees and lit only by the weak moonlight above you. A figure stood in the centre, his arms crossed across his chest as he watched you.

“I didn’t think you’d really leave.”
You flinched at the sound of his voice, subconsciously taking a step backwards, your muscles tensing as you prepared to run. He moved towards you with speed, halting a fraction of an inch before you, his teeth bared. You swallowed the lump in your throat, determined not to let him hear the fear in your voice.
“You can’t hurt me, Calum.” You breathed, trying to meet his gaze. “I know what Michael did.”
He smirked, nodding his head slightly. He was too close for comfort, his body nearly pressed up to yours as he looked down at you with the same ravenous thirst in his eyes. You wanted to believe you were safe, but you knew he had to be stood there for a reason. He’d done something terrible, or was about to.
“That’s true.” He sighed. “But unfortunately, that little piece of magic only protects you. Poor Michael has figured that out already.”

Your stomach dropped, the taste of bile thick on your tongue as you tried to choke down his words. He’d hurt Michael. You didn’t know how you knew, but the sinking feeling in your gut promised you it was true. This is what Calum lived for, and you could see how much he was enjoying himself as you tried not to cry. It was written in his sadistic smile, his whole face lit with delight when yours crumpled. This was his triumph, his favourite twist in a sick game, and he was determined to win. He’d failed to break you once. He wasn’t going to fail again.
“Yes,” he grinned as you let a soft cry leave your lips. “That’s what I was hoping for.”
He leant back slightly, ducking his head down to try and force you to look at him.
“I’m feeling generous, though.” He jeered. “I’ll let him go, on one condition.”


The building was old and decrepit, rotted wood nailed to a crumbling steel frame, the stone floor cracked and split beneath your feet. Dust danced in the air, lit by the moon, and the wind whistled through the crevices in the walls. You saw Michael immediately, slumped against one of the beams, his eyes screwed shut in pain. Thick links of silver were draped across his legs and wrists, the skin underneath raw and smouldering. You made to move towards him, desperate to peel back the silver and free him, but Calum had other plans. His hand circled your wrist, pulling you back into the shadows and holding a finger up to his lips.
“Not yet.” He whispered.
Michael flinched at the sound of Calum’s voice, his eyes still closed as he moaned.
“Just kill me already.”

A boy stepped out from behind the beam, another chain of silver held precariously in his hands, thick black gloves protecting the skin underneath. He grabbed at Michael’s hair, tugging his head back to lay the silver across the hollow of his neck. The sound of his skin being seared mingled with his tortured cries as the metal sank into his flesh.
“Ash, please.”
The realisation hit you hard, memories of Michael sat opposite you talking about his best friend, hating that he never knew what had happened to him, whether he was even alive. But now he knew.
You stumbled as Calum dragged you forwards, his grip tight on your arm. He stopped a few feet from Michael, a twisted smile playing on his lips as Michael opened his eyes.
His face fell in defeat when he saw you, a hushed get out of here leaving his lips as his brow creased and he winced against the silver that cut into him.
You reached for him, yelping when Calum jerked you back.
“You know, I was so disappointed in you, Michael.” He sneered, his fingers digging into your skin. “I offered you so much, and you turned it down for this.
He pushed you to the floor, the stone grazing the skin on your hands and knees. Blood oozed slowly from the cuts, and you could see Ashton begin to twitch as the scent hit him. His muscles tensed and rippled under his skin as his teeth flashed, the urge to feed overwhelming, but the protection Michael had cast over you holding him back.

“What do you think of your friend now, Michael?” Calum grinned, watching Ashton snarl down at you. “He’s different, right? He was very keen to follow in your footsteps when I first turned him; but everyone breaks eventually. He’s a little damaged, I’ll admit, but it was worth it. He’s my most vicious progeny yet.”
You stared up at the curly haired boy who towered above you, trying to imagine him as the smiling, loving boy Michael had described. There was no laughter in his eyes anymore, only a thirst that set his whole body on edge with the need to rip and tear into the soft skin of your neck. He had been twisted and tormented into a savage monster, his soul destroyed, leaving not even a shred of humanity behind. Just like his sire.
“What is the end game here, Calum?” Michael said quietly, rasping through the pain. “Why have you brought her here? You can do what you want with me, but you know you can’t hurt her. Let her go.”

His voice cut through you, the aching defeat in his tone breaking your heart. You didn’t want to imagine what they had done to him before you arrived, but you could see from the criss-crossing wounds that streaked across his skin that they’d worked hard to break him. He struggled against the silver as it continued to burn, and you wanted nothing more than to crawl across to him and take away the pain. Looking at him now, you knew that if the two of you somehow managed to get out of this, you would never consider leaving him again.
“Michael, Michael, Michael. Always so dramatic.” Calum sighed. “I’m not here to hurt her. I’m here to turn her.”
The fight returned to Michael’s eyes as he thrashed under the silver, spitting curses and roaring in a mix of anger and agony. You tried to hold back the acid that rose in your throat and threatened to choke you, Calum’s words on repeat in your head.
“You can’t.” You whispered. “You can’t bite me.”

He smirked, crouching down in front of you and ignoring the threats that spilled from Michael’s lips.
“Loophole. You ask me to turn you, and all that pretty little magic floats away. So here’s the deal. You become one of us, and I will let Michael go.”
You stared at him, weighing his words in your head. You didn’t understand. You knew this all fit into his game somehow, but you couldn’t believe that he was so desperate to taste your blood that he would truly consider making you into one of them. You looked up at him questioningly, trying to look past the excitement in his eyes and guess his next move.
He read your mind. “If you’re wondering what I have to gain from this, it’s that I won’t have to live with the shame of knowing my progeny is in love with a human anymore.
Calum stood, stepping aside so you could see Michael again. He was distraught, pleading with you to leave, to forget about him and carry on with your life. He didn’t want to see you become what he was, to have to fight against the monster buried inside every second of the day. He’d rather die than see Calum sink his teeth into your throat.

You heard the words as they left his lips, but they muddled in your mind, your eyes focused on his battered and broken body. The hands that had held you close and protected you were balled into fists, nails cutting into his palms. His lips were pale and chapped, but you remembered the way he’d pressed them to yours, refusing to fight what he felt any longer. The leather bracelet he’d always fiddled with when he was nervous still hung on his wrist, but was streaked with his blood. You couldn’t leave him here to die at Calum’s hands. You wouldn’t.
You looked up at Calum, his arrogant smile already forming. He knew your answer before the words had even left your lips.
“Turn me.”
His hands were at your neck, forcing your cheek to the cold, damp floor. He tilted your chin, forcing your gaze to rest on Michael as he shouted out in protest, begging for it all to stop. The bite was harsh and wild, the pain searing down your spine, your whimpers strangled by the fingers that closed tightly around your throat. Ashton watched on from beside Michael, a cruel grin on his lips. Your vision was starting to fade, bordered in black and grey as the life was drained from your body. You were struggling for breath when you noticed the braided leather bracelet that circled Ashton’s wrist, identical to the one Michael had always worn. And as your mind gave out, you wondered if Ash even remembered now what those bracelets had meant to his old best friend.


You woke choking on mouthfuls of dirt and soil, the weight of it pressing down on you as you frantically clawed towards what you hoped was the surface. You wanted desperately to take a deep breath, despite knowing deep down that you didn’t need to anymore. Anything to try and cool the burning that coated your throat, to quench the thirst that had dried your mouth and chapped your lips. Your fingers broke through the mud, and you heaved yourself up into the night.
Your mind became alive with the smells of the forest, noises that you’d never noticed before joining in a chorus that swirled through your ears.
Michael was sat against one of the trees, watching you carefully. His skin was still raw and inflamed, deep burns carved into his flesh where the silver had lain. He smiled weakly as you crawled towards him, and you knelt between his knees. Your hands hovered by his face, too scared to touch him in case you hurt him.
“I’m so sorry.” He whispered, reaching up and placing his hand over yours on his cheek. “I never wanted this to happen. You shouldn’t have let him do this to you.”

You leant forward, carefully pressing your lips to his. They didn’t feel cold anymore as you kissed him, your skin now the same icy temperature as his. He winced, and you leant back, watching him with concern.
“I couldn’t let them keep hurting you.” You sighed, locking your fingers with his at his waist. “I care what happens to you, Mikey.”
The corners of his mouth tugged upwards, and he motioned for you to help him stand. You tugged him to his feet, letting him lean back against the trunk of the tree until the pain started to fade again.
“We need to get out of here.” He muttered, grimacing as he tried to loosen the tension in his muscles. “Lay low for a bit; make sure Calum is really gone.”

You turned to start walking, but his hands caught you by the waist, turning you back towards him.
“Are you sure about this?”
He was frowning, his brow creased in the middle as he looked down at you. You understood his doubt. If you’d have walked away and let Calum kill him, no one would have blamed you, not after what he’d done to you. But he’d changed since that first night; he’d taken on the monster inside him and won. The boy who’d snatched you wasn’t the same one who stood before you now, holding you tightly and giving everything he had to try and protect you.
You smiled up at him.
“Somehow, Mikey, despite everything, I think I’m falling for you.”

He leant down for a kiss, but as his lips met yours, you knew something wasn’t right.
A sharp, piercing pain cut through you like a blade, your heart tearing in two as you pulled back from Michael. You could see the horror in his eyes, his lips parted in a cry as you felt your whole body begin to collapse, the ache in your chest spreading out to every limb. You couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Every cell of your body was crumbling, breaking away into dust.
“You shouldn’t have let her break that protection, Mikey.” Calum sneered, yanking the stake back out of your chest. “I told you I’d have fun with her.”