remember that time the gang on bmw got into a huge fight after their prank war went wrong? i kinda wanna see an gmw ep of that. all the friends are mad at each other. like everyone’s mad at each other.

  • zay and smackle feel left out because everything seemed to only revolve around the core four
  • maya feels like it’s always has to be lucas vs her when it comes to riley’s attention
  • farkle misses lucas cause they don’t seem to hang out that much anymore
  • zay and farkle are mad at lucas because it feels like he doesn’t care about them anymore
  • lucas is mad at zarkle because he thinks they’re being selfish
  • riley thinks maya is wrong. she’s always hanging out with zay now.
  • “i only hang out with zay because you’d rather hang out with huckleberry.”
  • “what?” - zay; and this causes drama between zaya

and more shit happens and all their feelings just pour out and no one talks to each other and this is like a two part plot

and the only ones who can bring them together are auggie, ava, doy, and emma because they see the kids get into an argument but then apologize or some corny shit.

i just wanna see the clique six in a real fight and become stronger after they reconcile.

anonymous asked:

So wait, Paige just deleted all of the messages completely, read or not read? Is that what we're learning from this? (I feel like this sounds super indignant but I promise I am saying it entirely neutrally)

(( OOC: I’ve read all of the asks that I’ve received (if they came through, sometimes tumblr eats them), so she definitely didn’t delete anything I hadn’t read. ;) 

She just cleansed my inbox… because I literally had 11,000 unanswered asks….

Because I’m a mess of a human being. )) 

anonymous asked:

you are 29... waouh I felt a little old to be watching Skam so religiously but i am glad to know that i am not the only one who is over 26. Maybe now ill stop lurking and try to interact with Skam fans more often. do your real friends share your Skam addiction?

I am, so you shouldn’t feel bad. No one should feel bad for watching the show, no matter how old they are. It’s brilliant and people who don’t watch it are seriously missing out! Some of my friends watch it, some don’t. I’m trying to convince them all to watch it though haha. 





anonymous asked:

I had no idea you had tattoos! How do you feel about tattoos in healthcare professions? Do you feel that you get judged by them in professional settings? (by patients, attendings, peers etc) Unfortunately there's a lot of stigma surrounding tattoos and sometimes they are considered "unprofessional". I do want to get tattoos but I am afraid of what it will mean for my career, since I'm planning on going into a profession within healthcare...

All of my tattoos are in places that they are hidden by work clothes so I haven’t faced any stigma from it.

I know a lot of people with visible tattoos have faced trouble in the healthcare profession because of it. I hope that changes. My tattoos do not make me less able to be a doctor. They’re just a choice I made about my own body – no different from the socks I pick or my earrings.

If you want tattoos, I suggest, for the time being, to put them in places you would always have covered with scrubs or professional clothes so it’s a non-issue.

I think as tattooed doctors become more common in the next decade or so and people with out dated ideas leave the field this attitude will change.

We became close friends so fast. Closer than I had ever been with anyone, her and I were inseparable. I began to have feelings for her, as more than a friend, and I was so scared because I had never had feelings for someone the way I had for her. She made me realize that I am bi. She returned those feelings for me to some extent, but she was afraid of them. Afraid of what her family would think. I told her that I did not want to be more than friends, and she was more happy to agree. We were so close, we told each other everything….but then summer came. We went from texting every night and hanging out everyday to not at all. She never answered me. I thought that she would at least text me on my birthday and she never did. After a few months, I confronted her. She told me that she thought it was best for me not to be friends with her and made up excuses. We just stopped all communication after that. After another month, she texted me that she missed me and called me crying about it. We became close again, but she had another friend group by that time. So we grew apart because she has a new best friend now. She still sends me so many mixed signals, she’s tried to talk to me again in person and I just don’t feel comfortable because she has not given me an explanation as to why she is ignoring me again and being horrible to me, even though I have put two and two together on some things she has said and realized that I believe she is afraid of her and I’s strong feelings to each other. This picture is an example of two people who used to talk all the time, but now only send the occasional happy birthday text. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think of her and what I could’ve done differently. It still kills me everyday. Every time I see her with her new best friend, I feel my heart break a little more. {Sorry this was so long. It just feels good to get this out…}

anonymous asked:

I have never been hurt,but it's unintentionally,extremely hard for me to love people or keep them close. I am struggling with my lack of emotions,and I just want to tell all the people who have a natural ability to provide love to people that you're lucky. It's better to initially get hurt and gradually find someone worth your love than not being able to love someone at all,and not knowing if you'll ever find someone for yourself. You're lucky,don't ever feel otherwise.

Lucky? Lucky to feel everything all at once? Like you’ve been ran over flat by 20 freight trains? Like you’ve just got hit by an eighteen wheeler and then drowning in the Mariana Trench while being pulled down by a Megalodon shark that was supposedly the largest shark known to man, which is also supposedly extinct? Lucky to feel? I think in some regards, feeling things and not feeling things– they both have their offsets. I’d much rather feel, but I don’t consider myself lucky. If you’re an honest person, a down to earth one, and one that’s likely to get hurt or has been hurt before… you’ll know that feelings suck, and sometimes we need to shut down. To get away. To learn how to love ourselves. Maybe, learn to feel even if it’s that hard for you. Maybe you do feel things, maybe you’re just waiting for the right person to feel things with you. Maybe you just didn’t find them yet. Oh. Oh boy, but you will. We all do. At one point.

Object shows gothic

You have no idea how many object shows you have watched. All of them look the same. Eye burning green and blue background, simple characters… they all have the same beady black eyes.

That song in the background. You feel like you have heard it thousands of times before, and yet every time it plays it feels new. And it just keeps playing over and over.

You have been watching the same object show for over 5 days now. Time doesn’t matter.

Wait, is that object bleeding? They aren’t supposed to bleed.

It’s pitch black, except for your flashing computer screen. you didn’t notice this until recently. When was the last time you left the room? What room are you even in? You hardly know anything anymore.

I think he just died. Did he die? It was really unclear.

The lip sync is terrible. The words mean nothing. The facial expressions are extremely simple. There is no emotion.

Is it a boy or a girl? Do objects even have a gender? Do they have sexual organs? Do they have sex? How do objects reproduce? Do they just fall from the sky? Are they created? Who knows.

All of these characters are voiced by the same person. They are not a good voice actor. And they just keep talking.

You could totally stop watching now. Stop watching. But you need to see who is eliminated next!

Never mind, he didn’t die. He’s ok now. He’s ok.

Never mind, he isnt. He isnt ok.

You want to vote for your least favorite character, but you were too late. Too bad sport, the voting is closed.

The voting is always closed no matter what. There isn’t a single video you can vote on. You are always too late.

This object show was first updated on December First 1834. The newest update came out yesterday. There are only two episodes.

The recap of the last episode is so long it takes up half of the episode. Well damn.

Who’s your favorite character? Who’s your least favorite? All of them are the same.

anonymous asked:

Hey this is a weird question but do you believe in true love? I mean like being able to still love someone after decades of being with them and neither party wanting to cheat on someone else. Sorry if this isn't a normal question for this blog but I'm just having feelings from all the cute submissions and I want that to happen to me so much.

honey i can’t assure you enough that i am literally the biggest hopeless romantic out there and no matter how much love does me wrong i will always believe in it. i am in love with the concept of love itself so much and everything about it makes me feel so nice. of course you cannot have something as great as this without some disadvantages and sometimes love will hurt you so bad it’ll feel like you’re emotionally overwhelmed and aching but oh my goodness sweetheart being in love is such a surreal feeling and i really do believe that relationships could remain this way for decades and more! cheating is a choice and unfortunately so common but if two+ people are meant to be together then that’s all they need. if two (or more) people are in love and have this pure kind of relationship then it will remain the way it’s supposed to no matter how long it is! if you end up with somebody you’re absolutely and 100% convinced is your own person and you’ve been with them for decades+ and as long as you understand each other you’ll make it. oh my goodness babes you’ll absolutely love this time in your life. it’ll hurt and confuse you a lot but stay strong through it all and fight together for your relationship to remain as assured as your love for one another. it might take some time or it might be soon but either way be patient my love because it will happen. i hope you find your happy ever after time honey bee!!! xx

pomrania  asked:

Please talk more about comparative space-anatomy and biology! I am honestly interested in this stuff; and as someone who has exams soon, I know the feel. Any way you can make twi'lek stuff relevant to what you have to study?

YES oooooooo I have a whole entire deal with them, and it is color based. We see a WIDE range of Twi’lek Colors, I will focus now on White, Flesh Tones (we only see a pale “white” tone but the whole range of human pigments could be possible), Red, Orange Yellow, Green, Blue, and Purple. 

Now, these colors are not all present in mammals, so I’m going to have to talk about bird/reptile systems, but we can extrapolate.

Color is formed by two methods- pigment and structural color. Within the dermis, there are several types of pigment cells. There are melanophores, responsible for black, brown, and even a ruddy red color like you might find naturally in human hair. There are also xanthophores, which produce yellow-orange colors, and erythrophores, which produce red colors.

Now for the color blue, you need something special- it isn’t a color the body can just produce through pigment. In the case of feathers, the actual physical structure of the plumes is altered to make a special reflective structure. In skin and scales, it requires iridophores or cyanophores, which are actually filled with compounds that physically alter the way light is reflected. Now in both cases, for the blue to show, a layer of black pigment (melanin) MUST be present underneath. Without the layer of melanin (or other pigment), the feathers/scales/etc will simply appear to be whatever the base color is, white or yellow or red or whatever.

So, using combinations of pigments and structural colors, we can create break down the colors of Twi’leks.

White- No melanin or other pigments present. Structural color may or may not be present, but will not show without melanin.

Flesh Tones- Varying degrees of melanin. No other pigments or structural color.

Red- Erythrophores present. No structural color.

Orange- Erythrophores and Xanthophores present. No structural color.

Yellow- Xanthophores present. No structural color.

Green- Xanthophores and structural color. 

Blue- Melanin and structural color. 

Purple- Erythrophores and structural color present. 

Thus, it would be possible to predict the color of the children of Twi’leks based on the homo/heterozygosity of the parents for different pigment types and the presence/absence of structural color. But that is a whoooooole other talk in itself!

*Note, this also does not include rare pigment types select to a few taxa. For example, Turacos actually do have green pigment instead of yellow pigments + structural color, but this pigment (turacoverdin) has not been found in any other taxonomic group.

More of my friends are announcing new pregnancies, some for the second or third time. My mom gets more excited for them than I do, she talks as if I’m going to have a child any day now, and is way more into the idea of being a grandparent than I am of being a parent. Step parenthood will happen eventually and I’m sure that will be wonderful but in 30 years on this planet, I can’t say I’ve ever had the desire to bear my own child. Honestly, never. In my early 20s I figured it was something I might want to do in ten years, but as time passes I don’t feel differently. I spend the majority of my week caring for little people, filling in the time while their parents are not with them. I love them just like I’ve loved all of my nanny kids, I want to do my best for them when they are with me, but I am relieved to wake up on weekend mornings and not have little hands reaching for me. I think parenthood is a beautiful path for anybody to choose, but I’m not sure it’s mine.

One of the things I love and hate most about writing is, I feel like I have zero control over my characters.

like. never once do I feel like I ~invented~ a character, even with FR dragons; it’s more like meeting a new person & discovering who they are. And then they just do whatever the HECK they do, and I the author am just along for the ride to write it all down.

Neither of the Cain/Murdoch chapters went as planned. Neither of them. Because Cain and Murdoch are stubborn butts who don’t listen to their author and do as they well please. Frustrating? heck YEAH, and it takes a lot longer because I never really knew what either of them were going to do. But I think it makes a better story? and will continue to do so?

This is also why, if you ask me my dragon’s sexuality, I probably DON’T KNOW. Gender is one thing, that comes easily, but, like. Unless the character falls in love or just straight-up tells me, I have no way of knowing who they like

which is also frustrating

but I think cool.

anonymous asked:

Such an amazing transformation! I am soon to be starting mine at age 29. I am also midwest. Are you willing to talk to me about starting my transformation?

I have been regularly chatting with many transgender people via tumblr who ask for advice. Feel free to send me a message using the messaging tool. I do ask that use your actual account and be up front about your situation. I have no time or patience for people that want to talk because this is all a kink for them and they hope to get something from me. I block those people immediately and without remorse.


So I guess that I have kind of officially decided to put this blog back in to business!!! I’m a tally feeling really motivated to do things on the blog and start things up again. With that said, I still can’t do all of this on my own - I am still looking for Co admins! Also, requests are open, but not for one shots. I still have a lot of them in the ask box that I’ll be working on today. Speaking of working in today… I’ll be doing my best to finish the long awaited chapter 50… hopefully that will come out first. I get out at 10:40, so I’ll have plenty of time to work on it :^) - Darby

Originally posted by minseokhoseok

blagamuffin  asked:

i love the thought of jedistormpilot which is rey x finn x poe. rey has been so alone growing up. finn was always surrounded by others but felt so lonely and trap. both are so good coming out of what they both went through. then poe just feels like he's the type who has so much love and warmth to give. like i love all three of them and i need them to take care of each other and love one another.

i can’t speak for z (altho i know she agrees bc we’re clones) but i am…far from the biggest fan of that ship for a few reasons:

- poe is a Decent amount older than rey. like he’s 32 and rey’s 19 which is…a significant difference

- poe is gay

- i’m also not a big fan of the fandom trend of turning really popular gay ships into ot3s w/ a girl/guy character

like as a relationship/trio it’s awesome (same w/ han, luke, and leia) but i can’t get behind it as a ship

Darryl Pinckney. The novelist and essayist on his studio in Harlem, where he wrote his new novel, ‘Black Deutschland.’

I spend my day in this room; I am here much of the night. I sit with my back to most of this room and with the blinds to the street closed when the weather turns. It’s enough just to know there are windows. James Fenton and I have been here six years and are not fully unpacked. Because there is no more room in the closets, 25 boxes of letters, manuscripts, galleys and back issues sit against the walls, under the library table and in the fireplace. The movers brought them up four flights and here they have had to wait. These boxes make me feel that I am squatting in my own life. To open any of them would explode the past across the floor. Not all of this stuff comes from me, but James won’t accept more boxes in his study, which is below mine and even more of a mess.

Life with James, who is a poet, means a lot of books. My study contains black American history: the subject I write most about. For one year, in 1937, this house was the Harlem Community Art Center, and I sometimes think of Augusta Savage walking its halls. I have things arranged chronologically, but there are also stacks on the tables, each a sad little memorial to a project I either don’t have time for or don’t make time to pursue. Everything in this room has too much meaning, down to the old coffee tin of political buttons and empty matchbooks. The table I use had been in Elizabeth Hardwick’s dining room. She did most of her typing on it. Even the books mean too much.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com

rulerofsilence  asked:

Hey Seda whats the story with the mean anon? I feel like I missed something.. Is anyone out there saying bad things about you?!?! I will FIGHT them. Not even joking.

I am getting ready to fight, too. They attack anonymously to lovely RPers and insult them and their work which infuriates me because they don’t know them, they don’t know what they are going through, they don’t know why they do what they do and they insult their creation.
Although I am not an RPer you might remember how I reacted to the unnecessary comments on my Remus Lupin post because I put tears and love into that. I just understand how they must be feeling and that makes me want to hug all of those who received hate and just fight the person/people responsible because they don’t have the right to do something like this, no one does.
I just have a hard time understanding what they gain from making feel bad about themselves, that’s like the highest level of mean and I hate it.

Read Me--Imagine #11

angelrayna: Hi! I was wondering if you could do an imagine that takes place in a library or bookstore. Im a total bookworm so i love that kind of stuff .///. Thanks ^^

A/N: Loved this idea and I’m sorry it took so long for me to write it. Thank you so much for being patient. I hope it was all you wanted!! <3 I feel like it’s kind of messy but hopefully it sounds better to you. Keep dreaming!~Logan

My fingers ran along countless spines of books, and I savored the feel of each of them. I was calmed by the low hum of the small bookshop sounds. My local bookstore was my safe haven. It was peaceful and small, and felt more like home than any other place. 

“Is there anything I can help you with, ma’am?” A voice said behind me.

I whipped around from looking at the fantasy book I was holding in my hand.

The young man who stood in front of me was the guy I’d been pining over for awhile now. I knew he worked here, but we had never talked except for the couple times he had rang up my books. His name tag read, c/n.

“Ah, it’s you!” He exclaimed, his face brightening.

“Yup. I’m back,” I grinned, awkwardly shifting my weight from one foot to the other. I was surprised he recognized me.

“Considering how often you’re here, you must have a library in your house,” he smiled at me, his kind e/c eyes twinkling at me.

I pulled at the hair on the nape of my neck. “Heh, yeah, I’ve kind of run out of space in my house for all the bookshelves I keep filling up.”

We stared at each other for a bit, his eyes sweeping over my face and lingering slightly on my lips. 

“So!” he started, seeming to snap out of a daze. “Can I help you find anything?”

“Oh, well, if you have any recommendations I’m open to any,” I smiled.

“Pssh, do I ever!” He winked at me, strolling through the rows of shelves.

I followed him, a slight warmth settling in my cheeks. We walked for a bit, and I studied his strong back and the way he confidently walked, humming to himself a bit. The sound was soothing. 

“Mah lady,” he said, stopping in front of one of the rows, and gesturing for me to pass him with a flourish of his arm.

“Such a gentleman,” I smiled. God, I really didn’t know how to flirt. 

The slight tinge of pink on his cheeks, told me otherwise though. 

“I’m really into dramas and mysteries, so this isle is great for that,” c/n smiled, a sort of dreamy look taking over his face. 

He told me about a few of his favorite books and I picked up one of the ones he mentioned. 

“Oh, yeah, umm,” he suddenly became very flushed and nervous, “that one is a romantic drama. But it’s really good. There’s a lot more to the story than just the romance.”

“I think I’ll start this one here and see if I wanna buy it,” I smoothed my hand over the cover. 

“Yeah, for sure! I guess I’ll just go back to minding my business,” he chuckled, getting antsy.

“Or you could, maybe, read it with me? I mean, if you don’t want to that totally makes sense, I mean I’m just–”

“I would love to–” he stopped himself. “What’s your name? You’d think I would have asked by now, considering how often I see you in here.”

I blushed before outstretching my hands. “I’m y/n.”

“Well, I would love to read with you, y/n,” he chuckled, his warm and slightly calloused palm rubbing against mine as we shook hands. 

His thumb stroked over my knuckles for a brief moment before he dropped his hand.

“Follow me,” he turned, leading me through the rows to a door. “Technically, I’m not supposed to do this, but hey, you’re one of our best customers. Might as well get a little bit of VIP treatment,” he smirked as he punched a passcode into a pad on the door.

He took my hand leading me inside before I could say another word. 

“Welcome to the bookworm’s paradise,” he laughed. 

My eyes widened at the glorious little room. It was comfy and dimly lit by little lantern lights hung on a long wire that ran along all the walls. Bean bags and plush couches sat on the carpeted floor. Books were strewn over the floor and filled the bookshelves. My eyes settled on a machine that c/n was toying with. 

“Hot chocolate?” he asked, holding out a cup of the steaming liquid. 

“Wow, thanks,” I smiled. 

“Anything for a devoted bookworm like me,” he wiped the hair that had fallen into his eyes, before taking a sip. “Oh, shit! That’s hot,” he said, choking.

I patted him on the back, putting both of our hot chocolates near the bean bags that were next to us. His coughing subsided after awhile. 

“You alright?” I asked gently, rubbing my hands up and down his back.

“Yeah, thanks. Sorry about that,” he looked up finally his eyes watering from coughing, his whole face bright red. 

I hesitantly took my hand away, wishing it could remain there.

“Shall we?” He asked, bring my eyes back up to his as he gestured to the love-seat we were standing in front of. 

“We shall,” I gave him a shy smile. 

He sat down first and patted the cushion next to him. When I sat down next to him, I tried placing myself as far from him as possible so as not to make him uncomfortable. But the seat had other plans. The cushion tilted to the middle, sliding my body into him, my whole side–thigh and arm–pressed against his. He looked at me, a gaze I wouldn’t be able to get out of my head for days. It made my stomach churn as he let his eyes slide down to gaze at the places we were touching. He cleared his throat. Opening the book, he held it in his hand, resting his hand on his thigh. I put my hand on his thigh to support my weight as I shifted to curl my legs under me. 

“Comfy?” He chuckled, looking at the way I was seated. 

I slid my hand slowly up his thigh, back to my own. His Adam’s apple bobbed, his smile faltering for a moment. “Mmm, very,” I smirked. 

Clearing his throat again very loudly, he shifted a couple times, seeming to try to get his legs in a comfortable position and pulling his top down. Finally he settled. His voice came out thick and measured as he started the story. I don’t know how long we were in there as his voice lulled me into a sort of hypnotized state. It was so soothing and yet sensual at the same time. The way the words fell from his lips was like a beautifully composed piece of orchestral music. And the way his tongue curled to form each word was an art form in and of itself. I laid my head on his shoulder and felt the hum of his voice in my own body. Sometimes, in the dramatic parts, when a character was over-reacting, he would switch to this hilariously high pitched voice. I doubled over from laughing so hard. Watering eyes and flushed cheeks, I didn’t realize I had fallen in such an awkward position. When my eyes focused and I brushed away the joyful tears, I realized my head was on his lap, and I was staring up at him. He looked down at me, his hand that held the book resting on the arm of the loveseat to get a full view of me. 

“You enjoying my humor?” he asked, pink tinting his cheeks. 

I giggled. “Very. You should really get a job reading for audiobooks.”

“And why would that be? I think I do a terrible job of reading,” he inquired.

My eyes widened. “You think you do a terrible job of reading? I was just in trance from listening to your voice,” I sat up. “In fact,” I looked down at my lap, “I think that’s all I really focused on. So, maybe your voice wouldn’t be good for audiobooks. No one would be listening to the story. They’d be too focused on your voice.”

He tipped my chin, making me look him in the eyes. Something about the way I was looking at him must’ve triggered something in him. I heard the book drop as I licked my lips, letting my bottom lip graze against my teeth. 

“I kind of want to know what it would be like to feel your lips read me,” I said, stroking his cheek, my face on fire as well as the rest of my body. 

He got the hint, his eyes seeming to be set on fire, closed the distance, and our lips met in a slow, sensual introduction. His lips closed around my bottom lip, getting familiar with it, and he sucked gently. So tender. He was so tender with me. His hand that was once holding a book as poetic as the way he was kissing and touching me now, blazed a fiery trail down my arm to my leg. He gripped in a soft, but firm way and pulled it over his thighs. I was now straddling him. His warm, large hand that I had only been shaking in introduction earlier, traced circles on my thigh. It seemed he was flipping through my pages, inhaling my scent as he would with a book, savoring the taste the smell brought with it. He was reading me with his fingertips, like I was braille and he was blind. His tongue wrote a new chapter in my book on my tongue, one where I lost all inhibitions and went after what I wanted: Him. I leaned further into the kiss, moving my whole body with his movements and that voice, that damned voice, released a thick, guttural groan. The passion with which he was kissing me was what convinced me he really was trying to read me. The way his hands stroked my body, trying to observe my movements so as to be able to predict them in the future. He was a reader and I was the story he was trying to memorize.

Y'all, if you know me in real life and find this blog why the fuck do you feel the need to show my family/boyfriend/close friends??? I am not hiding anything, most of them know about my blog, and dont really need to see everything I have posted 😂😂😂
Get a life and either enjoy my blog or move tf on

I am not of Polynesian descent, but I did grow up on an island where many people considered it unwise to want to leave. (I have no idea if mainland people feel the same thing in the same way as island people about leaving, but it is a Big Thing to feel that call to strike out beyond the borders.) I am also descended from people who left their own island to find a better one when theirs was no longer viable for them. So much of what I saw in Moana hit home with me in ways I wasn’t expecting and it pulled up so many feelings I had put aside with adult responsibilities. I feel like I’ve been processing this movie all week, and never have I felt more like my 17-year-old self.