and the same shorts as yesterday

Life’s too short to try and look pretty for people who don’t care about you.
—  Julaisa Santiago

The most spiritual thing you can do is to help someone in need. 

Last week I saw a post on a FB buy and sell, a woman posting about a used car company she worked for for a month, that was refusing to pay her $2000 they owed her. She posted so others would know about them, to avoid working there and shopping there. Her post was rather raw, and mentioned how her three kids might not have a Christmas because of this, and she wasn’t even sure if she could pay rent, let alone have a tree. Filling a claim with the labor board takes months to work out, so won’t do much for her short term. 
After a few days I went back to try and find the post but couldn’t, I felt bad and wanted to help, at the very least bring her a Christmas tree and ornaments for her kids. 
So yesterday I see the same woman trying to sell a gift card for a spa session she got for a Bday gift but didn’t have time to use. I asked if she had gotten anywhere with getting the pay owed to her, and she hadn’t. But was still fighting for it. She was selling this gift card so she could buy diapers for her baby. I had her PM me and asked if she managed to get a tree. She had one donated from a friend, but no decorations for it. So I told her I would give her a bunch of old decorations and lights I have and don’t use anymore. 
She is a mother of three little ones, and even though she is at her lowest, she never asked for help from anyone in any of her posts. In talking with her, she was very grateful for me wanting to help with decorations as she said she loves Christmas and is trying to teach her kids about the spirit of Christmas. 
So today I will bring her the box of decorations, along with a gift card for $260 from Walmart, which she doesn’t know about, so she can give her kids a nice Christmas.
I grew up raised by my grandmother, and we we’re not very well off. There were many hard years, and I remember that sometimes the charity of others made a huge difference for me, especially at this time of year. I even remember one year there were no gifts. And my heart aches at the thought of a child having to experience that. 

So I’m posting this not for recognition, but with the hope that I will inspire others to do something similar. You see, I got laid off last month and I’m currently not working, but I did get a nice severance from my company, so I’m feeling rather blessed this Christmas. I don’t know what the future will bring for me, but I do know that I don’t have to worry about not being able to have a Christmas. And I do know I can make a difference in a persons life.
So if you know of someone in need, and are in a position to help, please consider it. Trust me, I know from experience what a difference it will make, especially for a child.

I believe in the Spirit of Christmas 

  • Natasha: What's it like being taller than 5'2"?? Like, you guys can reach things, huh? Weird.
  • Steve: *nervously* IDK, I used to BE a short person, but being constantly sick kept me grounded. I don't think you and I faced the same problems.
  • Natasha: Source??????
  • Steve: *sigh* Yesterday, I watched you climb on top of Clint while he was eating, to get something off a shelf. You didn't even ask him, you just climbed that boy like a tree.
  • Everyone: *looks at clint*
  • Clint: *looks uncomfortable* *shrugs* I'm... used to it...
  • Tony: You looked terrified. You didn't blink the entire time she was up there.
  • Clint: *nodding slowly* Yeah, but... I just... listen, I'm just REALLY glad she wasn't wearing shoes this time, okay?
  • Everyone: *shudders in horror*
  • Natasha: I have him well trained.
I am so full of shit

Me (two weeks ago): No, I’m not interested in Spacedogs. When I like two characters of a tv show, it’s very improbable that I like other characters played by the same actors.

Me (one week ago): Mmmh, Spacedogs are interesting, let's see the movies and then read some fanfictions.

Me (five days ago): Well, ok. I’m going to write a short fic just to see how it goes.

Me (yesterday after 25 pages): This is really getting out of hand. 

Me (today): I fear watching Doctor Strange.

So yesterday I was talking to my friend and I told him that I started reading the 2015 Jughead comics because the main character is canonly asexual (and
technically not canonly stated in the same way, but also heavily implied to be aromantic).
He responded that “that isnt a good reason to start reading something.”
I told him it definitely is, but our conversation was cut short and it didn’t come up again.
(But I still think it is definitely a good reason, so I decided to extrapolate a little here.)

People want stories with people who they can relate to. It’s just a natural thing that everyone wants, and I think the reason he didn’t see it the way I do is because as a straight white cis man he has never had to actively search for someone who is just like him at the most basic level. You can read a story or watch a movie about a straight white man with a plot of pretty much anything you could think of. But I’ve joined groups on Goodreads just to find books that not necessarily have an aro/ace character, but just simply don’t have romance as a main plot point. There are really only a few things I can think of that have canon, explicitly stated ace characters, and out of those few, only in Jughead is the ace character the main character.
Jughead is an interesting and engaging comic, but that isn’t what really struck a chord with me. It was incredibly refreshing to be able to consume a piece of media where I didn’t have to project myself on to a character in order to make them relatable. Because Jughead goes through the same exact struggles that I do. I can relate to him when he is frustrated by other people becoming absorbed with relationships and ignoring friendships, being uninterested in romance, uncomfortable when people appear interested in him, etc. It is really important to me because I was able to read a comic where the main character not only didn’t fall in love, but he was opposed to the idea.
It gave me hope, because I had the opportunity to see people who were like me to be the spotlight in stories that I enjoy.
Because representation is SO important. There are already a lot of people who have said that same thing many many times, but this comic was what made that statement mean something to me.
As a writer myself, it gave me hope that people will read the stories I write with aroace main characters. I also want to let people see someone like themselves in my stories. And that goes to anyone else who writes stories with aro/ace characters. Representation is important; your stories are important. There is someone out there who needs to read that story, so I’m going to write mine, and I hope others will continue writing theirs so aro/aces aren’t invisible in media anymore.

Ride or Die (Happy X Reader)

I had some downtime yesterday at lunch and this has been stuck in my head for 2 days. 

This is a loose continuation to Ain’t No Loving Me. If you haven’t read it, you don’t have to. For those who have read it - the Reader in this short is the same one as in that one. 

WARNINGS: VIOLENCE, TORTURE & LANGUAGE (Also potential triggers)

Originally posted by lowmans

Originally posted by bribooth

Inspiration: Gangsta - Kehlani 

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Yesterday I had I dream I was on the same bus with Ouma but because he seemed pissed off for some reason I didn’t come to hug him… *sob*

Now I just had a dream there was no killing game but some bad people suddenly appeared in school… He killed a sniper disguised as a teacher after using mockeries to make her reveal her weakness. Then he killed a yankee guy by pretending to switch side then use a trap to make him fall and hit his head on the ground.

However, finally Ouma was killed by someone he trusted *in the cast of V3* without realizing what had just happened…

RIP kid… :”<

Oh and the next dream I dreamed that Mashu *FGO* helped Little Mermaid to achieve happiness but after overcoming many challanges, Mashu killed Little Mermaid and revealed herself as Mashu Alter…


“Yesterday I was 10 years old, today I’m 71 years old. Yesterday I was watching the French soldiers destroying our homes, today I’m watching our Algerian soldiers guarding our homes. Yesterday I was being forced to speak the French language, today I’m free to speak my Arabic language anywhere. Yesterday I was treated as a second class citizen, today I’m a citizen with all rights and duties.

I can’t believe how fast life goes by. Everything I just mentioned didn’t happen in a day or two, but when I think of it now it feels like a a short movie being fast-forwarded towards the end.

And in the end, it doesn’t matter how long you lived as much as what you did in your life to be rewarded in the afterlife. The end is the same, but the test results are different”

electric shocks
down and up
my aching spine.

just above the surface,
my skin is cold,
pure wax and ice.

my boiling blood
does not save me.

hands clenched in worn pockets,
i see everything.
i hear everything.
i want to turn it off.

turn it off and
be numb just like
two months ago
when the news came
that today would begin
the end of the world.

—  Today is the same as yesterday and other lies I tell myself
Awkward Update:

Hey, guys! So some of you may or may not know that I kind of fell down a flight of stairs yesterday xD Long story short, the stairs in my apartment building were wet/slushy, I slipped, went to the ER to get some x rays, and walked out without any broken bones but a wounded pride and lots of bruises. I got a long lecture from a doctor about the importance of watching one’s step in the wintertime and to hang onto the banister. An older man in the room next to mine slipped on ice, but he wasn’t as lucky and fractured his pelvis. :( This is what I get after writing about characters falling down the stairs in a few of my fics.

So because of this whole fiasco, I haven’t even started working on Chapter 4 of Rockin’ Around the ICU yet, and it’s going to be posted a day or two later than planned. Sorry about this. Sorry for being a giant klutz. Since I’m pretty much supposed to stay in bed for another day or two, I’ll have plenty of time to write, but I’m, admittedly, a little shaken up from the whole experience and would like to spend at least twelve hours doing absolutely nothing and mindlessly watch Netflix and play Pokémon.

Thanks for bearing with me. I promise not to fall anymore, haha!

Love you all,


anonymous asked:

There is an guardian (I think) interview in 2011, what struck me was how uncomfortable he was being "profiled" by the paper. He just seems like a regular ol' writer who prefers to be private and do his thing.

@your-perfect-opposite just sent me this yesterday, which is ironic that you bring it up. I got the same impression. He seems like a guy who LOATHES the spotlight and really just enjoys quiet evening at home.

Some other parts of the article

Through his 20s and 30s, he was writing, trying to find his purpose, but something was gnawing at him. He felt he was a disappointment; that he’d let his parents down after all they’d been through. He says he suffers survivors’ guilt and tells me a short story by way of illustration.  “Four men are climbing a mountain, and a terrible snowstorm hits, and only one can escape. They draw lots, and the one chosen is you. Your three colleagues will die but they will give you the life. I’ve inherited that. I have to leave behind evidence of my existence. That’s partly down to a father dying young. But there’s no doubt the responsibilities of being a second-generation survivor … It’s about there being video cassettes with my name on, saying I was here, and that’s a haunting and exhausting thing, but also a privilege.”

But it emerges that Morgan finds it just as difficult to talk about the work. It’s almost like a superstition. “If you think about what you do, if you become self-conscious about it, you’ve got to be very careful. Because I really like to write without self-awareness of what I’m doing. If you know what it is you’re doing, and you know that other people can see what it is you’re doing, you’re, like: well, it’s so obvious, I’m just doing that again.”

“Ambition I think of as a kind of curse.” Does he think of himself as ambitious? “Yes, of course.” For what? “I’ve no idea. That’s why it’s a curse. It’s not for money, it’s not for validation. It’s partly about wanting to leave a mark.” He stops to think about it. “There’s a correlation between damage and ambition - show me an ambitious man and I’ll show you a damaged man.”

We Have Already Made History

Dear Johnlockers and Tjlcers, I am here, with this sort of short letter, directed only to you. Since yesterday, things haven’t been easy. Not a little. This is not a “let’s have hope” speech. So, okay, 1st I want to remember you all something I learnt a while ago. There is this art product. But at the same time it is the creator’s intentions reflected there, it’s made half of them, and half of the public’s visions, perceptions and interpretations. Now, let’s talk about Sherlock. For a long time I was on the 100% sure boat, trusting on Moftiss. And if you have been following me, you know that. But let’s face the truth. The odds aren’t on our favor. And what lgbt+ representation means for you, us, is far from what it probably means to Mark Gatiss, even though he’s himself a gay man, and Steven Moffat. In the the recent years, they saw US, people from different backgrounds, purely diversity, appropriate with all our right, their creation. So, I am never saying Johnlock isn’t there. Because it is. We all saw it. And this is one of the most famous m/m ships because we were just one step from making the iconic Sherlock Holmes, what he already is in BBC Sherlock, according with our versions. We almost reached our objective. Together and united we raised our voices and believe me when I say that we were clearly heard. And their hands trembled when they saw how strong we were, a team, supporting and always there. Johnlock is canon because WE made it canon. And it would be nice to see that it was as well the writers’ acts that lead us to this conclusion, but now I reached a state of peace where I can say that I don’t need to see BC and MF kissing to feel happy with my experience with Sherlock. Because my experience with Sherlock can be summed up as YOU. And all the stories, fanarts and FANTASTIC theories. Queerbaiting is a big and ugly problem. And when concerning Moftiss and Sherlock, God, I’m truly sad because I was betrayed. I felt horrible. Just check my twitter, which I created only because of this reason. Sherlock may be one of the greatest queerbaitings of TV History. Just me that was destroyed yesterday? Of course not. People’s lives were depending on this. God knows how these ones are now. But what I’m trying to say is that independent from what happened on Sherlock, the program, it propitiated the creation of this BEAUTIFUL COMMUNITY, and guys, what we made here was history, more than what any other fandom imao has done in the last years. Perhaps there are cut scenes. Hope is the last to die, the dictate says. And I’m not even close to okay with an open ending. If they wanted to do it, they should have done it rightly, with ALL THEIR HEART AND COURAGE. I want the best portrayals they can make. I want it loud and clear. To everyone. But I’m talking with you now, and in the final, simply thanking for letting me be part of this. It was and is a lovely experience which I won’t forget. Thank you everyone that was here with me. Thanks.

This was meant to be a very short, cute little thing, but it got away from me a bit, surprising literally no one who’s even the slightest bit familiar with me.  It’s a thing now, and there’s likely to be another part.

Or, Percy understands the mechanics of music boxes, but not of flirting.

Vex'ahlia never thought she’d be so glad to have solid ground beneath her feet.

Not only that, but the same solid ground that she trod over yesterday, and the day before, and even still the day before that.  Two weeks; that was the deal that they had all agreed to.  Two weeks, after the Feywild and the Nine Hells—and gods above, she had thought she’d been prepared for that, but she was wrong, wrong, so very wrong—to catch their breath and shore themselves up again.  Two weeks in Whitestone, resting and planning what their next move will be.  Four days in now, four full days in one place, and still she’s perfectly content.

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Yesterday was my grandpa’s funeral. It was so emotional, yet beautiful at the same time. I fought my anxiety and even read a short story i wrote for him, it felt good….Like somehow he heard me you know?

So… im thinking about maybe starting a fund raising campaign to raise money for cancer research. I know that almost everyone on here knows someone in their surroundings who has dealt with that fucked up sickness, or have unfortunately, like my dear grandpa lost their lives to it. I’ll update more about it soon. Just like this post if you would be even remotely interested in helping me spread the awareness, it would mean a lot. (I know not everyone is financially capable to donate, thats why i think spreading awareness to those who can is a beautiful move too)

Starter: A Long Needed Reunion


Sonic stopped before the large house in front of him after zipping throughout the outer suburbs of Station Square. He let out a sigh happily. He was finally back to his old home. He just stood there and took in the details of the place with a reminiscent smile on his face. 

He let in a deep breath and exhaled as he walked up to the doorstep, his finger hovering over the doorbell. He was going to press it but…he found himself lost in thought for a moment. 

Had it really been over a decade since he last saw his step-mother? It felt like more, if not less than that. In fact, it was almost like yesterday when he was a small pudgy hedgehog with black pupils and short spines. Those were happy times back then.

And at the same time, how could he just’ve so easily ran out like that? Much less let alone be given permission? Sure, he had righteous reasons, but he was only 10! No matter how much of free spirit he was, he should’ve stayed home! It just hurt his soul.

Even worse, it only hurt more as he thought about the fact that he promised to be back. Yet he never kept that. 

As a child, he always wondered just how thin her kindness could’ve stretched. Well, guess it’s time to cross that off his bucket list, cause he was about to find out.

He shook his head as he snapped out of it, his finger finally connecting with the button and releasing. He heard a “ding, dong” inside as he waited in anticipation.

Until finally…

“Hey mom. Uh…been a while, hasn’t it?”, his eyes averted to ground behind him and back to her as he put his hand behind his spines in a sheepish way. ⇌ 

sergeiboobtitsky replied to your post: “Also”:

they look like little ceramic figures you’d find for sale at some quaint roadside diner/antique store

They DO, OMFG.

When Arlen says his specialty is appraising junk and “kitsch”, this is the kind of thing he means. Like he probably gets entire crates of figurines like these on a weekly basis.

“I do wish the other animals would show up. Every time someone knocks off a box of these, it’s always sheep, horses or goats. I’ve got one pig I found on the floor in a tavern, and no chickens at all! I’m six chickens short of a barn,“ he says. “That’s funny, though. Zeira said the same thing about me yesterday…”


I feel better.
I needed to hear a convert story. Take my Arabic Grammar exam. Listen to a little lecture. Do some tidying. Weigh myself a few times. I weigh the same as yesterday. This morning I was less. I fasted Alhamdulilah. And then broke my fast with a Kabab roll. And then I couldn’t eat it. And then later I had lentil soup. And two cups of tea. And some tamarind. So I didn’t really eat much. But I weigh the same. I mean, that’s expected though.

I think I’ll look up the next short marathon in NYC. And then train for it. Maybe that’ll help. But I want a medal! So if you guys know any marathons that give medals for just participation then hook it up.

Alhamdulilah though. This last cup of tea really made me feel peaceful. And change of scenery, sitting on my one seat sofa with my feet on my swivel chair. Life is Alhamdulilah. And I have almost everything. And I can have everything. Allah can make me skinny. And Allah can help me with everything.

Allah got this. My friend Rumsha and I said this once last year: “I got this. No. Allah got this.”

A year….It’s okay to give yourself a year or more to change your lifestyle for the better.

On the left was May 2015 at about 174ish lbs.

The right was May 2016, yesterday on the same trip, at about 138-140lbs. (Been holding water lately)

The jeans on the left are a size 13 skinny. Jeans on the right are skinny shorts from Target at a size 6! (American)

The angles aren’t the best but there’s a huge difference in my face and my stomach. Even my arms leaned out way more and I don’t carry a lot of fat there in the first place.

I’ve still got a little ways to go as I want to go from my current 28% body fat to 23-25% bf. I’m kinda tired of cutting so I may go down to 25% and then just work on maintaining that while slightly recomp-ing.

Wherever you are in your fitness journey, please give yourself some time, don’t rush it. You’ll be much better off that way and much happier in the end.