and it was all...just a dream

renjun is 17???

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Okay but imagine what DA2 could maybe have done with the clinic if there had been more time and resources to flesh out all parts of the game more?

  • More ambient dialogue where the people are actually supportive of and thankful for their Healer, and that tell you about what sort of patients Anders has
  • a collection box maybe where Hawke could plonk herbs or a little money, potions, or whatever. Something to help running the clinic, or to distribute to the people of Darktown. Maybe the box is something that Anders hasn’t actually put there on purpose because who in Darktown has anything to give but Hawke just keeps leaving stuff in it and eventually Anders remarks on it, or maybe the clinic could get some little visual upgrades if you donate enough? Nothing mandatory you know, but just maybe a good place to throw like thrown trousers for bandage material or something instead of selling them for some copper pieces. xD
  • maybe a patient or two with a quest? Some patient that a healer mage Hawke could heal when Anders is busy with some other patient, or something else for rogue and warrior Hawkes? Bandaging the wound instead? idk something small and nice that’d let you help a little bit. ;u;
  • or maybe a scene where Anders asks your help with something there? Holding a patient’s hand or helping to keep them steady or whatever, I don’t even care. LET ME HELP ANDERS.
  • stuff you could interact with to see and hear Hawke comment on what’s there (like you can at Gamlen’s, and at the manor later) and what Anders’ life is at the clinic - DOES he leave his socks under the bed there as well? What’s on the desk? I WANNA KNOW. (tbh everyone’s home base would so benefit from this). Some of these things could change in each act to SHOW what’s going on in their lives!
  • idk guys I’m just saying that that place could feel really alive and cool instead of a big mostly empty room. ;u;<3 (Also the Alienage? could have had something cool to do as well.)

anonymous asked:

I find it so funny when people try to make out being called ugly doesn't bother them. I wasn't being rude, love, I was stating a fact. Bellatrix is described as beautiful and Alecto as unattractive, you're unattractive so Alecto would suit you better. And you seem stumpy. Don't take offence, it's only the truth. If you're so concerned with ugly souls why do you wish to play a Death Eater? AND further more, dressing up as characters over the age of 10 is just sad.

If I was bothered by you, a stranger hiding behind the safety of anonymity, calling me ugly, I would be ashamed of the person I became. I’m not that weak, I assure you. I’ve endured worst insults, and been in the presence of shittier people than you and came out stronger and better than that person. 

What put a fire under my ass is the sheer audacity you have. “Stating a fact” is a sorry excuse for unwarranted rude behaviour. No, you were being rude, and you knew this because you wouldn’t be hiding behind that old grey circle and sunglasses. You knew exactly what you were saying, and that’s what I think is funny. You know what you are saying is an insult, you wanted to attack me, you wanted to insult me, to damage my insecurities, to make me feel bad about doing something that I was clearly enjoying. You wanted me to be discouraged from being who I wanted to be, even if that was dressing up as a fictional character (which I’ll get into later based on your last comment). 

The thing is, you’re wrong. I know I’m not unattractive, and I know the person I am. The reason why your petty comments don’t bother me is because I don’t need your validation. You’re a nobody who thinks that their word is the word of God, and you can just bully people into inferiority based on your subjective. The people who are most important to me strongly disagree with you. My family, my friends, the man I’m dating, even my followers, would all strongly disagree with you. And that’s all that matters. You are one person, against literal thousands of people that I can say would disagree with you. 

I’ve met, and dealt with people exactly like you, with your manipulative, destructive language. If I was still that sixteen year old girl with crippling insecurities, your words would have triggered me into a major depressive episode of self loathing. And that’s the problem. Not everyone is like me. You say that to the wrong person, and that can send them down a dangerous road. But your pea-sized brain would not be able to comprehend body dysmorphia, anorexia, or bulimia, and how easily one words could be the last straw on the back of that weak, old, horse that is trying to get rid of of the weight that it’s already carrying. And I pray that no one has done that based on what you’ve said to them because you were, and I quote “just stating facts”. Subjectiveness aren’t facts, they are opinions, they are alternative facts. They are worth nothing, and worse even less coming from a no-faced coward. 

I know exactly who you are. I know exactly who your parents are. I know exactly who your friends are. I know exactly how you were brought up. You are literal trash. Garbage. Garbage on the outside, garbage on the inside, and a coward all over. In a few years, you will grow to regret and mourn everything you’ve done and said. You will cringe in the dark after a bad memory slips back into the forefront of your mind, and it will haunt you the rest of the day. You will bow your head and hide away when you see a person you once bullied walking in your direction. You will ignore all confrontation when someone brings up all the trash you’ve sputtered in the past to them, because you’re ashamed and afraid of the person you once were. You, my friend, are a coward, and will grow up to be afraid of your own shadow. Your past that will tail your heels for a majority of your young-adult life until one day you finally can look yourself in the mirror. I don’t need to curse, or jinx you out of spite, because you’re already doing it yourself. 

You knew you were being insulting. And in the instance that you are that stupid and delusional that you actually believe you weren’t, what did you honestly think my reaction would be? What kind of self-loathing sadistic person do you think I am that I would bow and say “you’re right, I am too ugly”? No, you KNEW that I would react negatively. And the fact that you answered twelve hours later with this drivel means you went back onto my blog to see how I’d react.

Now to acknowledge the “AND further more, dressing up as characters over the age of 10 is just sad.” You DO sound like a 15 year old with an entitlement issues. Are you a single child? Did your mommy and daddy give you an ipad when you were six? Did you start a tumblr when you were 12? Does your name have a Y in the middle of it where an e, a, or i should be? Please, you just insulted a large community of people: Cosplayers, larpers, and role players on tumblr. 

I’m not even going to acknowledge your alternative facts.

But I will challenge you this:

My anonymous is toggled off for the time being. If you want to respond to this, pull up your grown up pants and say it without that bullet proof vest of anonymity. Stop being a coward and show all these lovely 11,000+ people that follow me who you really are. Face the consequences of your words, and grow the fuck up. 

But like I said, I know who you are. And you won’t reply to this without anonymous on, because you know what will happen, and you’re afraid. If anything, you will wait until I turn anon back on, but that means you’re that petty to be stalking my blog long enough to check if I’ve turned it back on.

But, I’ll be keeping it off for a while. I’m patient. 

Another weird Boueibu Dream

I had a strange dream where the Battle Lovers and the Caerula Adamas had to face a new villain

The villain was no one else than Future!Yumoto, who was trying to stop them from battling. He wanted to incapacitate them so Wombat and his organization would call other heroes for the duty, since he lost all of his friends to a really powerful enemy. Kinda like Dobby from Harry Potter, but more messed up in the head.

He had long fluffy hair, a lot of scars (but was still pretty, regardless), and kinda reminded me of Jareth (the Goblin King from Labyrinth); his transformed outfit was a fusion between Battle Lover and Caerula Adamas ones, and he carried the CA’s rings on his fingers and the others’ Lovracelets on pendants. (I dunno about the VEPPer’s brooches, though, sorry)

In a point of the history, he gets desperate at the boys getting fed up with his Dobby-like attempts and fighting his schemes back every single time and kidnaps Arima (shipping bias, i know; the VEPPer barely appear in my dreams, but they do mention the two as suspects in this moment, lol). He wanted to make sure he’d save at least ONE of the boys from this enemy, so he wouldn’t be alone in the future.

Cue to Yumoto’s rescue of Arima being him straight up PUNCHING FUTURE!YUMOTO ON THE MUG.

Actually, it was after a short exchange, lol

“LEAVE IBU-CHAN-SENPAI ALONE!“

“BUT I’LL BE LONELY IF I LET HIM DIE!“

“WELL, I WON’T LET IT HAPPEN!“ *YUMOPUNCH*

It was so freaking awesome. How come I only DREAM things that awesome? It never happens when I’m actually writing fanfiction.

Future!Yumoto then reveals why he’s doing it, which makes everyone feel kinda sad. Yumoto says they’ll work hard so it never happens, and that even if he gets alone, he can always visit his friends in the past and have fun with them.

Future!Yumoto smiles, agreeing with him; after all, traumatized or not, Yumoto is still Yumoto.

And that was it.

It was pretty cool.

will we ever have a text that allows such perfect multi-shipping as trc though. like every single pairing of the gangsey works except ronan/blue, and not only do they all like, compute, but they have a unique dynamic to explore. and then there’s like at least 4 or 5 other characters you can mix in there

For the love of all that is good and holy will one if you talented birds of paradise make me a manip of Liam Payne as Joseph (and the amazing Technicolor™ dream coat)????!!!!!!?!?!

yes hi, hello. friendly reminder ily all - you’re all great, unique and super important in your own ways. i’m not too hot abt all this negativity going around lately so i’m here to pass a positive quickie. stay sassy! xoxox <3

2

@sketching-misery
u H
I had to draw this rn
because u h
I had
n e v er
drawn this prior
yeaahh

Metal collided with ceramic in a jarring clink, an unprecedented​ jerk of the hand rousing Jill’s attention to a task that would otherwise been passed by as a matter of muscle memory and habit. It was like a cloud had been carved through, a rain of stimulus pouring over her senses, and Jill was all of a sudden very aware of her every surrounding. The coffee was cool and tasteless, the spoon nowhere to be seen upon bringing the mug to her lips, but satisfying nonetheless. Toes wiggled against cool tile that she couldn’t feel but Jill got the sense it was supposed to be cold; especially as she moved from tile to tile, upwards and onwards. She put it down to taking her environment for granted.

A flicker of light caught her eye as she turned from the kitchen counter of her studio apartment. Jill didn’t remember turning the light off. In fact, she didn’t remember it being dark outside, as though she had blinked and the world had flicked the off switch; forgotten to turn it on before she opened her eyes again. The only light in the room was coming from her television set. The flat screen was flush with the wall, offering best use of space in the small room. Static noise from its screen bathed the walls in a wriggling white-blue cluster that crawled into Jill’s senses and twisted her ear drums inside out so all she could hear was static. White noise from the T.V.

“Jill Valentine.”

Jill paused, squinting at the T.V. Fingers idly played with the string of the tea bag inside her cup.

“Mhm.” She acknowledged, and knelt by the set. There were metal dials on one side, the CTR framed in wood, aerials poking out of the top like it came out of a Simpson’s episode. Jill reached out, mug abandoned to the ether, and touched the top dial. It didn’t do anything, but she could still hear the voice. It sounded typical of a horror movie, all full of growls and nonsense  and cliche that could be reversed into mama’s cookie recipe by an intrepid producer. Jill twisted the second dial.

“Back again?” The dial asked. It was made of glass, shaped like crystal, losing its Swarovski quality by the light that broke through it and cast a sharp edged shadow on the stone floor. Bits of gravel gave that shadow a face and a sewn mouth.

“Yes.” Jill said. She was never much of a talker.

“You never were much of a talker.”

Now the voice sounded familiar, and Jill’s gaze flicked lazily into the off-focus picture that gyrated in the white and black grit. A numb headache made her forehead tighten. Palms rested on her knees, knees on carpet, eyes fixed to the figure behind the set. It was solid shadow, and it had eyes of its own. If Jill had been fifteen years younger, she might have been afraid. Instead, she greeted it like a wary friend, sure he was at her bedside hoping to get something out of her terminal illness.

“Did you bring anything for me?” She said to the eyes.

The responding voice sounded right by her ear, enough to startle her heartbeat into a thunderous rhythm.

“Not yet.”

CHALLENGE: write your muse having a common dream of theirs (good, bad, nightmare, daydream, even), without mentioning they’re in a dream. have fun writing weird stuff! repost, don’t reblog! 

TAGGED BY: no-one i made this up and thought it’d be fun 
TAGGING: @immotium, @triadicpath, @philianecro, @comitatum, @latrodectae, @cerisetheai, @moonsilvcr, @tristanacer, @tornhonored, @cowboyvigilance, @latachete

the other night i had a dream that i was on a boat with ben davies (where were we going??? i have no idea tbh possibly france) and then last night i was somewhere (very specific, i know) with vincent janssen. on top of that dream of me and jan in pompeii when voldemort attacked, it appears that i’m just making my way through the whole team in my dreams