anonymous asked:

My friends keep asking me to give them some of my Ritalin pills.. Is it safe for people without ADHD to take them...?

Your friends might be fine on Ritalin, or they might have an anxiety attack, or they might die. Also, you could be arrested for sharing a controlled substance, especially if the whole dying thing happens. Don’t buy friends with your ADHD medication. Save your ADHD medication to improve your own life.

In the future, try not to tell people you take Ritalin, which I know can be difficult if you, like me, have a talking problem.


I’m so proud of myself, I have planned out my Meals for the next week and stocked up my kitchen so that I have everything I need to prepare the food, I have no excuse to eat out for the next several days, I have breakfast lunch and dinner all planned out and I’m gonna Do This. I have been eating out a lot lately and justifying it with like “well I’m ahead this month financially so whatever” but with Pif going back to school next month and me taking a bit of time off from article writing because I’m getting really burned out it’s gonna be a bit tighter and we need to start eating more meals at home, which is difficult, I get really stressed out by having to engage with my food too much, and it makes it hard for me to eat, so I need to have Plans in place so that the process of making and consuming food is as low-stress as possible. But I have planned some delicious “healthy” meals and I’m looking forward to it so good for me.

The Biggest Boss: Epilogue

Ten years later.

Brent and I built a life together in San Francisco. It was hard at first; the city is expensive, fast paced, and pedestrian friendly, all of which made gaining weight more difficult. That certainly did not deter Brent or me in our quest for fatness, however.

We got married soon after moving. It was primarily a paper wedding for tax and health care benefits, but as time progressed our love only grew deeper. I was proud to call Brent my husband. After several years working for others, Brent left his job and started his own clothing boutique. It was terrifying at first, but ultimately a success.

When we first arrived to San Francisco I was about 270 pounds of blubber. My weight continued to fluctuate for a few years as I got used to the city. Once we became more financially secure though, the pounds started rising. I got down to 220 at one point and then blew up to 300 pounds in a little over a year, which is where I’ve been for sometime now. I don’t plan on gaining any more as I enjoy being able to stroll around the city and fit in somewhat stylish clothes.

My fat is now so all-encompassing that I am constantly aroused. When I walk, my belly pushes my belt into my pubic fat which in turn massages my cock. It causes me to get boners constantly. I have to jerk off at least twice a day just to feel comfortable. And, needless to say, sex with Brent is fucking amazing.

In the summertime, I enjoy wearing a too small T-shirt that shows off a small crescent of belly. I’ll go to the deli and buy two foot-long sandwiches, which I lug to the park. By the time I get there, my shirt is drenched with sweat. Huge wet marks surround my armpits, trail down my back, and sometimes my double chin even makes my collar wet. When I arrive, I plant myself on a bench and devour the sandwiches, allowing dressing to drip all over stomach. I almost always get a few looky-loos who marvel at the piggish fat man stuffing his face. The whole time my cock is hard as a rock, but no one can tell hidden under the fat rolls.

Brent far surpassed me in terms of weight gain. He was slow going at first, but when he began running his own place, the stress caused him to balloon. He was constantly comfort eating, and when I saw this start to happen I made an effort to always keep fattening junk food in the house. He would plow through a box of Cheez-Itz sitting at his desk, or come home and demolish a pint of ice cream before dinner. Brent was sometimes gaining up to four pounds a week. He eventually grew bigger than me, finally plateauing at 382 pounds. Occasionally, he’d make a remark about needing to lose some weight after struggling to tie his shoes, or breaking a sweat folding laundry, but we both knew that would never happen.

Quite simply, we were in love with each other, our fat, and our life. We had finally gone to hog heaven.

One day Brent and I were sprawled on the couch together, two venti frappuccinos on the coffee table, alongside a bowl of gooey marshmallows with melted chocolate and peanut butter on top. Brent was flipping through the channels when I saw something that caught my eye. Before us was a TV documentary about gainers. We could not believe it. In a typical, sensationalized manner they were showing YouTube clips and blurred out Grommr profiles. However, what came as the greatest shock of all, was that they were interviewing an almost unrecognizable Nicoli and Grasello.

I could not believe my eyes. Nicoli had well surpassed 400 pounds. He looked positively massive as he gloated of how much food he eats in one sitting. Grasello also looked about 50 pounds heavier and boasted of how much money he spends on Nicoli’s massive appetite. After several shots panning across huge spreads of food, intercut Nicoli jiggling his expansive stomach for the camera, the commercial ended with the tagline: “Will they ever stop eating…?”

A Prize to Be Won

Some Monster Falls. Here, have a ball.

It was the sound of crunching leaves that woke him.

He could hear them crunching underfoot, the sound of brittle fall leaves being ground to dust. Something was wrong. He was moving, swaying from side to side as someone carried him along.

Dipper opened his eyes, the effort which was much more difficult than it should have been. He was so tired. His limbs felt like lead and there was a horrible pounding in his head, as if he hadn’t gotten enough sleep. His hind leg ached and he was sure one of his antlers was broken. Once the fog cleared from his vision, he could see that he was being carried. He was slung backwards over someone’s shoulder as if he were nothing more than a prize from the state fair. The next thing he noticed was that his hands and both sets of hooves were tied.

Keep reading

I just figured that Chamo’s a difficult person to rp with. Most of the time she’s just an anticsocial brat, who’s into killig things which makes it difficult to start an rp because well…she just isn’t the person to approach someone without murderous intent.

So if you rp with me, I’m sorry that it can be a little difficult because I try to be as IC as possible and I really hope that it doesn’t look like it don’twant to rp :/ 

Well…I just wanted to say that because I realised it could look like that and I’m awfully paranoid sometimes. 

mozzarellastx asked:

I think Wendla would have had a hard time being supportive of Ilse at first, basing this off how she reacts when Martha tells her the truth. She feels like she needs to experience to understand, which makes it difficult for her. Maybe if her and Ilse chose each other after the beating but before I Believe it would work. I love love love the idea of them being best pals and keeping each other safe though

Yes, yes I definitely agree. I think after that fact, they’d really have a connection and she could feel like she could relate to Ilse more. I do love the idea of them being good friends. Especially if she still ended up pregnant, but alive, maybe having Ilse’s help through it?


Alright here they are! velociraptor-of-the-year tagged me to post 6 pictures of my face, which was surprisingly difficult…(I’ve taken a lot of selfies this summer omg)

But yeah I’m doing this on mobile and can’t think of many mutuals off of the top of my head but thanks Rine and if any of you want an excuse to post your beautiful faces do it and say I tagged you!

Melissa McCall is the best mom to have ever mom-ed on this show.

Her accomplishments include: dealing with a drunk (now ex)husband, being a single mother, being a working single mother, being a nurse (which is an incredibly difficult job), being mother to a werewolf, being mother to a werewolf and his best friend, coping with being the mother of a werewolf, giving said werewolf son countless pep talks that actually work, electrocuting a giant merged Alpha werewolf, and now BRINGING HER ALPHA WEREWOLF SON BACK FROM THE DEAD!!!!!

My world is so large, so full, I get lost in it. Anger is a prelude to power. It can become creative. I have always considered it negative. To be controlled. Evil. But it can become necessary to self-assertion, and to creation. Fear of self-assertion due to guilt: guilt in relation to weaker ones, fear of injuring them. But even more, fear of being alone, separated from others, losing relationships, fear of standing alone. Having to find relationships in equality, which is more difficult than in the dependent-protector or protector-independent relationships. What a relief it will be, the day I do not feel the compulsion, the obligation, to protect and to make myself smaller and weaker in order not to overpower the ones I love.
—  Anaïs Nin, from a diary entry

some people may think this is a silly thing and that Hannibal is “just a show” and Hannigram is “just a ship”, but I am literally happier tonight than I’ve been for literally months. I haven’t felt this euphoric for a TV show in YEARS. For any fandom related thing in fact.
I suffer from depression and Hannibal has been helping me more than you guys can imagine. Entering this fandom and watching this show, I made friends, which was incredibly difficult for me before, I talk to a lot of people, I found my motivation to watch shows and be active in a fandom again, be PASSIONATE about something. Having so many nice people to talk to distracts me from bad thoughts.
It may not cure me, but a month ago I felt deeply sad and now I feel SO FUCKING HAPPY.
Happiness is filling my chest and I feel so good I can barely believe it.

Thank you, Bryan Fuller. Thank you cast and crew and everyone involved in the most brilliant show I have ever had the pleasure to watch. I hope to see you all in season 4. I will wait for as long as necessary.

You know what I think about this a lot, but am I the only one that’s actually made pretty uncomfortable by the idea that romantic/sexual attraction is what gender you’re attracted to?

I understand why that was changed from sex, because that was problematic in itself

But I don’t feel like gender is a better term either because that’s presuming that you can somehow see and determine gender when?? It’s one of the most volatile, indistinguishable and intangible things on the planet?? How in the hell are you attracted to gender?? What is gender?? Where is it???

idk maybe it’s just cause i’m non-binary (and quite clearly straight men and non-straight women arent attracted to me bc of my gender) so I suppose it affects me more directly, or rather I have more reason to question it…. who knows


[…and clouds of dreams. Who loves you knows how to put your happiness up, even empty-handed, but with their heart full.] (x)

SUPERCLOSET: a mix for kyrieanne

  • (nice dream) / Radiohead
  • A Little Help From My Friends / The Beatles
  • I Believe (Get Over Yourself) / Nico Vega
  • Dress / Sylvan Esso
  • Mr. Blue Sky / Electric Light Orchestra
  • Falling Through Your Clothes / The New Pornographers
  • Rabbit Fur Coat / Jenny Lewis and the Watson Twins
  • Shoehorn With Teeth / They Might Be Giants 
  • Too Much of Anything / The Who
  • Dreamworld / Rilo Kiley