I’m what the kids call… uguu~

anonymous asked:

Sorry this isn't pancake tuesday related (dont call it pancake day just dont) but have you heard about the article about how Irish people shouldnt identify as white because of the oppression we faced what do the americans want us to identify as????

I am too sober for this ho ho holy shit what is this for real

Of ravens and flowers

“You draw very well,” Bilbo heard from behind. He smiled back at Thorin, who stood behind him, looking intently at the papers in Bilbo’s hands.

“Nowhere near as well as I would like,” he confessed. Charcoal smudged all over his fingers contradicted the incompleteness of the drawing, hinting that he was sitting there for a lot longer than it would seem.

“Your hand will catch up with your eye, given time and practice,” Thorin assured him. “May I?” he asked, gesturing to the empty space on the bench next to Bilbo.

He sat down when Bilbo nodded. Two ravens from the Hill flew down on the balcony and started playing with each other airily, so Bilbo flipped the papers and tried to sketch them. They moved too quickly though, and he let out a frustrated sigh.

Thorin extended his hand and spoke softly. The ravens stopped playing and one of them hopped closer, eventually spreading its wings and perching up on Thorin’s hand. It stayed there, crooking its head left and right as Thorin murmured to it. Bilbo completed his drawing and smiled at Thorin, when he put the raven down. It hopped up excitedly to its companion and cawed urgently. They both flew up and disappeared from the view.

“Thank you,” Bilbo said. Thorin nodded curtly.

For a moment, charcoal scratching on paper was the only sound interrupting the silence as Bilbo went back to his previous sketch. Suddenly, he knitted his brows and stopped.

“Has the court session been canceled? It usually takes place around this time, doesn’t it?”

“It does. And it has not been canceled,” Thorin replied, a bit sheepishly.

“Then why…”

“My sister decided I needed more free time and said she will manage it today, since the cases are not that important.”

“She threw you out, didn’t she?” Bilbo offered sympathetically. Thorin pursed his lip, clearly disgruntled, but didn’t oppose. Bilbo laughed. “The only person in the mountain who dares order the king around and she uses it to make you rest.”

Thorin opened his mouth to protest, when a hearty caw cut him off. Two ravens flapped their wings as they landed on the balustrade, one of them cawing and hopping in place while the other preened with a flower in its beak.

“Aren’t those the ones from before?”

“They are. I sent them to find something they liked and apparently it was this flower,” Thorin looked questioningly at the raven that flew up to him and now sat again on his hand.

“What for?”

“For you to draw them with, of course.”

Bilbo blinked and grinned. “I have no choice now, do I?”

“None,” Thorin smiled warmly back at him. The raven straightened when Bilbo turned his attention to it, posing eagerly.

Once the sketch was done, Thorin took the flower from its beak and both ravens flew away again. Without much thought, he offered it to Bilbo.

Bilbo looked uncertain as he gazed at the flower in his hand. “Aster,” he said quietly, the tips of his ears turning a bit pink.

“Is something the matter?”

“No no no, nothing at all,” he replied hastily. He put the flower down and flashed Thorin a quick smile. “Thank you.”

anonymous asked:

99% insidery anons at this point are antis mocking us. I hope people just dont get excited and then antis later mock us.

Well that’s the thing with anti’s isn’t it? They don’t understand that we don’t just believe everything at face value because that’s largely what they do.

We can enjoy a cute story and tag it with Awww if that’s true it is cute they are adorable and total assholes in love. But that doesn’t mean we take it as confirmed. There are plenty of rumors that I have read that I either don’t reblog at all or I do reblog knowing that it’s a cute story and likely not true.

And you know why I can have fun with these cute stories of questionable validity? Because I don’t have to have the cute stories of little interactions to know that Louis and Harry are in fact in a committed relationship and very much in love with each other. I got to that point with observation and critical thinking skills, and that is something that anti’s generally refuse to employ.

But I thoroughly enjoy the thought of someone who hates the thought of Louis and Harry so much sitting over their laptop furiously typing a cute domestic bliss story and sending it to a Larrie. All the while thinking hahhahaha got you suckers now let’s see if Larry is real. When really all they are doing is giving many of us a momentary smile and a head full of fic prompt ideas.

Also how adorable was Zero sort of stepping up to Jude to kiss him. Jude is a lil bit taller than him and it looks like he lifted up on the balls of his feet at first.


sassinem asked:

Sadistic Shisui gives me life, please say you have more fanfiction of him like this ;-;

why would you ever want more of that

His throat’s raw. Scraped dry. From screaming or begging or cursing, he can’t remember, now.

“I don’t know what is up with Konoha shinobi and wanting to die,” a voice muses above him. “Something in the water? You should get the water main near Ichiraku checked. Pretty easy to poison that, ‘cause your ANBU rotations there are sort of dumb… Anyway.”

There’s a fresh stripe of agony somewhere across his back, and he feels his hands clench uselessly at the air, dry mouth working in a sandpapery howl. He doesn’t know how long he’s been here, how long it’s been since his squad came into the territory; all he remembers is his squad leader’s face, white and pale even in the heat of the midday sun, turned back towards them, frozen midword: run. He remembers, too, the thrill of horror and the dry heaving, when his teammates realize his leader’s facing them, but his body isn’t.

He remembers, and wishes, not for the first time (and not for the last, either), that he’d died too, then.

“Oh no, no, no,” Shisui’s voice lilts, laughing loud and infectious the way terror is, “You’re not going to die. Honestly, do you think I’m that horrible.”

“Fuck you,” he rasps, turning his cheek against the gravel. The rocks scrape roughly against what’s left of his right eye, and that hurt less than what the other nin’s doing with the skin and muscle and oh god the bones in his back. 

They’ve heard of the warnings, Shisui of the Shunshin is passing this way, and there still was a standing order to take him into custody, commissioned by the Uchiha. Nobody ever told them why no-one else had claimed the bounty. Dead men tell no tales but cast rumors; nin that had seemingly vanished off the of the earth leave nothing at all.

“I’m going to use you,” and there’s lips at the shell of his ear, the low rumble of laughter, warm and moist and somehow the most frightening thing he’d ever heard (it sounds like the things that skitter in the dark and the things his mother warned him about and the things he sees out of the corner of his eye and the things that vanish in the space between sleep and wakefulness and it is everything his ANBU training never prepared him for), “To send a message to my favorite little cousin. Alive. So let’s get along, eh?”

123 pounds of marijuana found in car with Colorado plates during Ohio traffic stop

WEST JEFFERSON, Ohio (KRDO) -Two men from western Colorado are facing felony charges because of what was found in their car during a traffic stop in Ohio.

The Ohio State Highway Patrol says that at 9:26 a.m. on January 13, a 2014 Subaru station wagon with Colorado plates was pulled over on I-70 between Dayton and Columbus for following too closely.

A drug-sniffing dog alerted to the vehicle and a warrant was obtained to search it. Investigators say they found 123 pounds of marijuana worth around $615,000 in the station wagon.

11.10 Tag - [hurt!Sam]

Nothing Broken (that can’t be made whole)

Author: Semira
Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester
Pairing/Genre: Gen, hurt/comfort, (comparatively minor) physically hurt Sam,  major emotionally hurt Sam, awkward and caring Dean (because I’m needy and wanted more than what the episode gave us)
Word Count: 1,800
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: for 11.10, The Devil in the Details

The ride home starts off dead silent, hum of rubber on asphalt filling up the space between them.

Without asking, Sam blasts the heat and then slumps down in his seat like he’s dead, arms crossed rigor-tight over his chest. He says nothing.

It was easier, last time. The soulless guy drove Dean crazy, but he wasn’t a walking time bomb of hell trauma, either. After, Sam was so busy trying to make up for what he did without a soul and then trying to convince Dean he was all right that Dean only caught the tail end of that whole thing. Even then, it was muted, modulated. Typical Sam: compartmentalizing trauma so no one but him had to deal with it.

This is the most raw Dean has ever seen his little brother, and he’s not even counting the coagulating blood in Sam’s hair and the cut on his scalp that’s still oozing.

“Sam, you okay?” he asks again, gut instinct more than anything. Beat the dead horse. Same answer to the age-old question.

He expects the usual fine or an annoyed grunt or sigh or maybe even a Jesus, Dean. Would you be?

He gets nothing. Sam just sits there, like the seatbelt is the only thing keeping him upright. He must not be looking at anything in particular, because Baby’s dashboard certainly did nothing to deserve the horror Dean sees in Sam’s eyes.

“Sam?” He snaps his fingers. 

Sam’s arms wrap tighter around his chest.

Dean isn’t used to this. A couple tenths of a mile flash by. Still no response, so he clears his throat. “Like, physically? He knocked you around pretty good. Y'ain’t that hard-headed. Concussion?” He didn’t see Sam lose consciousness, but it looked like it was a pretty near thing when he helped him to his feet after everything was over. Sam spent half a minute hunched over and nauseated and at least twice that blinking dumbly and stumbling around in a drunken half-circle before he really got his feet beneath him.

Dean counts the seconds until his brother responds. “Nothing broken,” Sam says, shrugging a shoulder.

And while Dean is pretty sure that Sam doesn’t have any broken bones (though he wouldn’t be surprised if there were hairline fractures in his skull somewhere), he knows that’s a lie. Something’s broken. It’s just not the kind of thing Dean knows how to fix.

Keep reading

What bothers the living crap out of me in “A new Hope”




Headmates on Tumblr

There’s a reason you see headmates on the internet and not in real life. And by internet, no, I do not mean just tumblr. (However, there has been a bigger system community on tumblr growing through the years)

In real life, you pilot one body. No matter who’s out, you’re going to see the same person because what people see is your body. Even with personality differences, it’s hardly notice because what people memorize is your face. Unless you blatantly contradict yourself, no one will suspect that you’re more than one person.

Of course, people will know you’re a system if you openly tell them about it. But because of the stigma of people put on us (namely, neurotypicals), a lot of systems would be closeted. Because honestly, who would want to be called delusional, fake, going through a phase, or even institutionalized?

The internet offers a place where you won’t be judged for your meat vessel, because unless you actually post it, people will not see it. People will only see the text you type, and the images you post. And because they do not see your body, but for your personality.

And because the internet gives you a sense of anonymity, you have “weird” communities popping up. Otherkin, vampirism, LGBT, hell even bronies because they are looked down on the outside world. (Disclaimer: I do not like bronies.) 

And I know there are a lot of singlets who consider themselves “normal people” and look at this “headmate” thing as a trend. They haven’t seen how you act in real life. They haven’t seen you harm yourself because a bad headmate was fronting. They haven’t seen you black out and not realize what just happened in the last few hours. They don’t know your experiences. What they see is a singlet who wants to become popular by blending into a tumblr bandwagon. Hell, some of them don’t even think multiples with DID/OSDD (or namely, any type of neurodivergency) can go on the internet, make a blog, and make a community with its own terms. (And this mainly has to do with mentally ill people not having autonomy over their own lives.)

As a last word, I think I’ll say this. Singlets, recognize that you do not know what these people’s lives are like and that you might never know. You do not know their brain chemistry and you do not know how their brain works. Every brain is different, and it works differently for you then it does to them, and that not everyone can fit into a perfect mold of what you consider “normal.”

TLDR: There’s headmates trending on the internet because they can’t reveal themselves IRL.