and i could afford it

Drawing with SAI on my laptop

Drawing with MedibangPaint on on my tablet pc

I had a dream that Jeremy was leaving AH, and he was playing video games in my apartment, and I tried to get the details, but he just implied he was leaving on bad terms. Then we were on a plane heading to Russia for a debate conference, and it crashed in the Ocean just off the coast of Germany, which was located between Maine and Canada.

Dear God, I could watch Jimmy Kimmel calling out Republicans on their healthcare BS for all eternity. He really is one of the best late night talk show hosts in history.

His ability to totally and completely own and shame them is something else, you understand.

This is a comedy genius at his very, very best.

Man, and I didn’t think he was even *that* clever before all this. I just liked the Matt Damon and Sarah Silverman stuff, tbh. 

If I had a dollar for every time a white girl made it sound like she was doing Asian men (particularly mlm) a favor by fetishizing them bc “Asian men are desexualized you know uwu” I could afford healthcare in the US

lepetitvainqueur  asked:

@ math difficulty anon - i struggled with math so hard my entire high school career, it was my first time getting consistent 70s and 60s. i got a personal tutor, i stayed for extra help from the teacher, i asked for tips from friends doing well, i went online - i did *everything* under the sun we could think to / afford to do, but i still wound up with only high 70s. Math would make me so nervous to the point i'd get a stomachache before every class. but in the end, i still graduated high

(cont.) school, still went to a decent college, and was really lucky to have good friends all throughout! i guess what i wanna say is good luck and work hard, but also there are times when you face your own limitations, and in those instances it’s not weak or wrong of you to let it go, accept it, and keep working towards a bigger goal! and of course, always take care of your mind and body and heart, yknow? those are most important :) hopefully this doesn’t come off insensitive [sorry if it does eep]

Just looked over the Strain category in Ao3

Going back to writing not from inspiration, but out of spite.

I hate being negative like this but sometimes anger is a great motivator for me. And besides… I don’t have it in me to seek approval any more.

The audience for my fanfic is so small it’s not even a niche. At this scale I could afford to send each of my readers a gift basket for Halloween (😋😘 hint hint)

I am far too lazy to think of other ways of self-promoting it…

(long post, sorry)

In spite of everything I love Harley Quinn but, damn, writers treat her so badly. I swear, the temptation to make her actually stupid must be terrible because it’s so often implied, or explicitly stated, that she slept her way through school. First of all, it does not work like that.  Second, she’s not a therapist or a psychologist, she’s a psychiatrist, she’s a fricking MD and a damn young one too. Managing pre-med and collegiate gymnastics that she relied on to keep her scholarship? Harley is fucked up, but she’s not the dumb blonde she plays. (also stop making her stacked, she’s a gymnast. she is 4’11” of pure muscle and is not top heavy)

If you want a good Harley backstory it’s simple. She’s ADHD but medicated and slightly robotic because of it. I want to take special care not to demonize meds but, rather, people’s disapproval of neurodivergence and a lack of focus on what is best for a patient rather than what is most convenient for others. So, maybe, around ten years old Harley is a hyperactive space cadet who’s brilliant at tests but sloppy at coursework, who would be a gymnastics prodigy if she could actually focus on technique and put in practice time instead of fooling around. Then the meds come and it’s actually really cool because she can do the things she needs to do instead of just wanting to do them, doing something else entirely, and getting in trouble. People are proud of her, she’s proud of herself. But now there are expectations. Family and teachers and coaches overschedule her, find worth only in her success and don’t care about her mental health at all as long as she’s performing and castigate her when she does fail. Fuck if you don’t internalize that. But she doesn’t look unhealthy and she’s doing amazing. She actually has to choose between the Olympic trials and continuing her grad studies. She probably has some issues with self-harm but it either doesn’t look like self-harm or is well covered up. 

When Arkham accepts her, fresh from her residency, it’s not a mistake. The woman is amazing. All they can see is a mountain of achievements rather than the seething ball of nerves, self-loathing, and imposter syndrome boiling just under the surface. That’s when Joker comes in. He’s got the Hannibal Lecter shtick down. Where everyone else sees an intelligent driven young woman he sees a frightened overwhelmed girl who is working her hardest to convince the world she’s anyone other than herself. Sending her into a nervous breakdown would be too easy so he doesn’t even bother. Instead he’s open with her, almost friendly. The other doctors are amazed, Harley is amazed, she’s not done anything particularly revolutionary but, for the first time in forever, it looks like the clown prince of crime is showing progress. He unravels her and it’s a challenge, she flinches back and gets very serious when he comes too close to the real Harley under the professional. Still, soon she’s questioning everything. She doesn’t even really like her co-workers. She hasn’t had a real friend in years. She’s forgotten how to have fun. Did she ever want this to be her life or did she just do it for other people? It starts so slowly that it looks, at first, like she’s getting better at self-care. Maybe something totally silly one weekend, a trampoline park where she can enjoy the way her toned body moves without stressing out over landings, a face painting booth at a street fair, some garishly colored downright tacky decoration that clashes with her sensible apartment. Suddenly she realizes how much she hates knowing the difference between cream and ecru. The beigeness of her life is repulsive. She hates the person she’s pretending to be even more that she hates herself which is really saying something.

After her weekend of freedom she would have called in sick if it wasn’t so suddenly important to see him. The relief she feels at talking to one of Gotham’s most infamous supercriminals is disturbing but it is relief and she’s been swallowing a slow-motion panic attack for hours. She admits, though she shouldn’t, that she took his advice about doing something fun and he teases her, what would straight-laced Doctor Quinzel do for fun? Did she realphabetize her sock drawer or buy a new clipboard? It’s not important to impress him, it’s really not. He’s dangerous, cruel, and he looks so proud when she admits that she bought a lamp shaped like a lawn flamingo. The only mistake, he says, is that she should have stolen it. She hopes the wicked thrill it gives her doesn’t show on her face. It does. She almost even laughs. He likes it when he can make her laugh and she likes it when he likes things.

It’s wrong and unprofessional, the relationship she develops, and she knows it but her whole life she’s been so high strung. Nothing she’s done has been for her, she’s not sure she knows how to really do selfish things anymore, but he knows the selfish things she needs to do. It feels good when she follows his advice even when it’s small things like the rainbow striped socks she wears concealed under her very bland slacks and sensible shoes. She’s so happy, almost giddy, and he loves her happiness, he loves her, he loves the real her that she’s had to beat down and hide for so long, the her that even she isn’t able to love. She is able to love him, though, and since he loves her she’s able to love herself for him, to protect and nurture something so important to him.

When the choice comes between her old self, the tedious endless labor of making the world proud, and Him, the spectacular man that brought color into her life, it’s not even a question. She kills Doctor Harleen Quinzel, she throws away the version of her that let herself burn just for medals and hollow accolades. She embraces Harley Quinn and it’s so much a part of her nature she can’t even see that she’s still living her life for someone else’s approval, except this time that person is a murderous clown. She hasn’t let her hair down, she’s just put it in pigtails instead of a bun.

3

Guinevere;
She wore a robe of linen dyed gold, she wore gold about her neck and on her wrists, while her springing red hair was trapped by a circle of gold. She looked like a goddess.
— Bernard Cornwell, Enemy of God  

This is something I hope all of my followers and the entire studyblr community will read…

Last year was the hardest year of my life and I did not even notice it until I was out of it. To give a little background, I was 19, and becoming a college senior. I completed my bachelor’s degree with a double major, summa cum laude. I worked two jobs, one retail, one as a tour guide, five days a week, and took seven classes in the fall, and eight in the spring, and six in the summer. By March I had lost 16 pounds, was not eating, not sleeping, and drinking four or more cups of coffee a day. I had a boyfriend, friends, a roommate, I was president of a club, vice president of another, and working as vice president of one club’s international leadership program as one of five student board members across sixty-three countries. I studied for my LSAT, took the exam, and applied to law school. And in August, I will be the youngest person in my law school.

I pushed myself harder and further than I ever imagined, and though I sometimes (often) felt like it, I never cracked, gave up, or even collapsed. I did not always take care of myself, physically, mentally, or emotionally though, and I failed myself there, but I was so driven, so determined, that none of that mattered to me at that moment. I do not regret that or any of the choices I have made, but I pressured myself more than anyone ever has, and more than I ever have. I accomplished unbelievable things, but at an insane cost - my health.

Often in this community I receive messages, and see posts, encouraging you to never give up, and to always push yourself to get that A, pass that test, graduate, or to overcome whatever academic or otherwise challenges you are facing. Almost daily I receive messages asking how I do it. “How did you graduate at 20?”, “How do you keep up with all of your commitments?”, and even, “You are so amazing, I could never do it like you do”. But I am here to tell you well, it is not pretty. I went days without eating a meal at times. Days without washing my hair, of wearing the same torn leggings and a hoodie because a grade meant more to me than I meant to myself. I got walking pneumonia at the end of the spring term because I had pushed myself too hard and spent weeks telling myself I could not afford to be sick today, tomorrow, or the next day. I wore myself down so much that I had a doctor literally tell me that now at 20 years old, if I do not tone down the stress and pressure I subject myself to, that I could give myself a stroke. A stroke, 20 years old!

Being a perfectionist, and being so overwhelmingly addicted to my studies, is not glamorous.

I am making this post not to brag about my accomplishments, but because I receive messages daily idolizing me and what I have done. I want everyone to know that this is not easy. Having a dream is hard work, and I have been unfairly hard on myself. Just because you do not see someone’s cracks and scars, does not mean they are not there. I have worked hard, and have earned these things, but I have made sacrifices I would hate to see anyone else make.

In 10 days I move across the country to start law school, and I am terrified that I will allow myself to do this all over again. I am not afraid of the move, or of law school, but of myself and how I talk to myself and treat myself, and the amount of stress and pressure I am willing to apply to myself, without hesitation. In a month I have law school orientation, and have set up a meeting with one of the school’s onsite trauma therapists. I refuse to let myself be my own greatest roadblock. I have to learn to love myself. It is not fair to your body and mind to put grades above yourself. I now full heartedly believe that a grade is not worth your health. I will no longer break my back bending over backwards for an A+. I will no longer let myself go days without food and rest because I want this essay to be perfect, or my presentation to go as planned, second by second. I will allow myself to be happy, well rested, well fed, and healthy. I will love myself, and this is a promise I am making to myself and to all of you, and a promise I hope you all can make to yourselves as well.

I promise.

TLDR; Be dedicated, and determined to get what you want, but do not sacrifice your health, mental, physical, or emotional, for a grade, a diploma, a degree… You are worth so much more than a letter on a piece of paper, and it is okay to sometimes need to hear that. I know I did.

annawrites  asked:

i've enjoyed your prompt fills so much, thank you for sharing them!! if you feel like it: chef!andrew trying (and failing) to woo picky eater neil with fancy food? :)

The thing about growing up on the run is that you never really develop a palate.

You eat what’s there to be eaten, whatever you manage to stuff in your pockets while your mother distracts the cashier trying to haggle for cigarettes, as if it’s anywhere near possible to haggle in a 7/11.

You eat school lunches, bland chicken nuggets and congealed mac and cheese and unseasoned carrots with those little close to expired fruit cups with the peaches and cherries and simple syrup.

You drink gas station coffee—maybe it stunts your growth, but you drink it anyway—and fill old plastic water bottles from drinking fountains or public restroom sinks.

At least, that’s what Neil tries to explain to Matt one day, when Matt invites Neil to his favorite restaurant in his hometown. It just so happens that Matt’s hometown is New York City, and the chef at this place has a Michelin star, but Neil isn’t on the run anymore and his paycheck is hefty enough that he can afford it.

Keep reading

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fangirl challenge - [16/50] female characters ♡ sutton brady
I didn’t go to FIT. I’m sorry. I should have told you. I went to Penn State, and I lived at home, ‘cause it was the only thing I could afford. I have no fashion background at all. I never even worked in a mall. But I’ve devoured fashion magazines since I was a kid, and I have impeccable taste. I want this more than I’ve wanted anything in my entire life, and I would work my ass off for you.”