exactly what i am

anonymous asked:

Um hi so I am kind of bewildered that ikon gets a lot of hate???? I am not a hard core stan but I've been following them since mix&match. I never am one to dive deep into idols and what they do I just like their music but I didn't know that ikon got a lot of hate? I'm very confused because the only thing I ever saw about them that was bad was the bullying thing of chanwoo and I don't even know if that was real but I'm kind of shocked to have read that letter, like what? What's there to hate on??

‘What’s there to hate on’

question of the century. I seriously don’t know anon, I would like to know the reason as well 

I feel empty. I feel like something is missing and i dont know what exactly. I look around and everyone is fine. Everyone but me. Am i the only one that feels like this?

I always feel so lazy for only working 25h a week. Like, that’s only 3 long shifts, that’s not a whole lot. But whenever I work more I am reminded that apparently I am not capable to doing more, I worked one more shift last week and it absolutely fucked me up? So I’m glad I’m getting an inofficial break by pretending to be sick to see Radiohead in Poland lmao but also I should proooobably try to get some sort of diagnosis on what exactly is wrong with my body, because not only am I judging myself but I feel like other people are judging me too. I just don’t know where to start, every time so far I went to a doctor and explained how I feel that there’s something wrong and I don’t have as much energy as other people and stuff they always ran blood test, found nothing, and we’re like “we don’t know either but maybe do more sports” and like….that doesn’t work for me. And maybe it’s just the depression and ptsd eating my energy but idk it feels like there’s something else.

  • Ravenclaw: I feel trapped.
  • Hufflepuff: We're in the middle of an open field.
  • Ravenclaw: No, I feel trapped in this moment in my life. Where am I going? What am I doing? And how am I going to get to where I want to be?
  • Hufflepuff: We're going to charms class, we're going to be doing charms work, and usually hard work and dedication. Try to think in the now.
  • Ravenclaw: Well, in the now I'm contemplating an assault on you.
  • Hufflepuff: At least you're thinking about here and now!
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Writing Strong Emotions

@chemistreat asked: “How can one control and write the pure emotion of learning you aren’t who you think you are- in ethnicity, religion, race or otherwise? Something that makes a character rethink all of their traditions?”

When it comes to writing these moments of epiphany or emotional overload, it might feel like your writing in these scenes just can’t get to that level of emotion you hope to achieve. With some of these moments, the emotion might start to feel cheesy or just not enough, or it might be such a mess of different emotions, like anger, shock, disappointment, and betrayal that you don’t really know how to show it all. 

In either case, the big emotions are not easy, however there are a few techniques you can use to become better at putting them into words. 

1. Describe the setting after… This is one exercise that helps you write with emotion in a way that goes beyond what the protagonist may be able to directly express. Examples of this might include, describe a living room after an argument. Or describe a bride’s bedroom the morning before her wedding. These exercises force you to think of how emotion can shape the world of your novel beyond just the protagonist’s experiences. 

Keep reading

ifeelbetterer  asked:

Gotg prompt: how did Rocket learn to speak Groot?

“Repeat after me, Quill: I am Groot.”

“I am Groot,” Peter said dutifully. He felt like an idiot, but there were only a limited number of ways to while away quiet nights on the ship when neither of them could sleep. If it was him and Gamora, or him and Drax, they could spar, but he’d only tried sparring with Rocket once. It took weeks for the bite marks to heal.

Rocket’s oddly expressive – for a raccoon – face wrinkled in an expression of disgust. “Do you even hear yourself? That is nothing like what I just said.”

“Dude, that is exactly what you just said.”

“No, I said ‘I am Groot’ and you said ‘I am Groot’.”

“Which is … the same?”

Rocket stared at him for a long moment, then pointed at his snout. “Read my lips: I am Groot.”

“Was I supposed to repeat that, or …”

Rocket showed some teeth. Peter shut up. There was a moment of silence and Peter was just about to put his earbuds back in and quit with the language lessons when Rocket said suddenly, “Quill, if I say, 'I am Groot,’ just like that, what do you hear?”

“Is this a trick question? Especially the kind of trick question that’s gonna end in you pissing on my bed?”

“That was only once, and you had it coming –”

“Rocket –”

“No, for the love o’ cheese, it’s not a trick question. Just say 'I am Groot’.”

“I am Groot,” Peter said. “I feel like a complete jackass right now, in case that was your intent – hey, where are you going?”

“Jus’ need to get a thing!” Rocket’s voice trailed behind him.

Peter flopped back down in the chair in the mess and put his earbuds in. He was actually getting sleepy, and considering going back to bed, when Rocket jumped up onto the table in front of him with something clutched in his paws.

“What’s that?” Peter asked, sitting up. He palmed off the Zune and took off the earpieces. He had to hand it to Earth tech: the new music player was a lot more convenient to carry around than his late, lamented Walkman.

Rocket’s device was a thin, flat screen about the size of a hardback book; he had it clutched with a paw on each side while readouts rippled quickly across it.

“Okay, now say 'I am Groot’,” Rocket declared, studying the screen.

“Come on, man, do we really have to go through this again?”

“Humor me.”

Peter sighed and slouched in his chair. “I am Groot.”

Rocket’s ears pricked forward. “I am Groot,” he said, and tapped the display with his paw, causing the tiny, scrolling lines and numbers to freeze. “Did that sound the same to you?”

“Well … yeah?”

The flat pads of Rocket’s fingers danced across the display, and he laid the screen on the table between them. “Know what you’re lookin’ at?”

“Squiggly lines,” Peter said automatically.

“Did your mama drop you on the head a lot as a baby, Quill?”

“No, but Yondu did occasionally.” Peter rested his elbow on the table and his chin in his hand. As much fun as it was to mess with Rocket, he did actually think he knew what the raccoon was getting at. “That wiggly line is some kind of … uh … noise – wiggle – curve, right?”

“That’s real precise.”

“I was abducted from Earth before we got to algebra in school. Cut me some slack here.”

“Excuses, excuses. I was raised in a cage and my mother had an IQ of 3.” Rocket touched the display, zooming in on it. “Point is, I don’t think it’s just that all a’ you two-legged bunch is too obtuse to understand perfectly clear speech –”

“Thanks.”

“– like I used to think. It’s more like, my ears hear at higher and lower frequencies than yours do, so I get different overtones. Put simply for the simple, I can hear things you can’t.”

Peter leaned forward, intrigued. “So, wait – you mean all this time, all his 'I am Groot’s sound different to you?”

He realized what he’d said as soon as the words left his mouth, and got the flat 'I am dealing with morons’ look from Rocket that he’d instantly realized he had coming. “How am I supposed to understand him if they don’t, Quill, I ask you?”

“Okay – point – but … so why does it sound like 'I am Groot’ to the rest of us?”

“It sounds like 'I am Groot’ to me too.” When Peter glowered at him, Rocket held up a paw. “No, I ain’t messin’ with ya. This time. No, that’s what the translation unit picks up, 'cause it ain’t so smart about some of the less humanoid languages. It’s just, I hear it like …” He hesitated and waggled his paw. “It’s like your music, right? All those up and down tones at the same time. Groot can do that. Your throat, my throat, can’t.”

“Singing?” Peter said after a minute. “Groot’s singing?”

“I refer you back to the part about bein’ dropped on your head.” Rocket pursed his lips and let out a sharp whistle, making Peter jump – there was still some part of him that couldn’t quite hear whistling and not expect a death arrow to follow an instant later. And he might not be the only one, because Rocket stopped abruptly, closed his mouth, and then said, “Quill, do this,” and hummed softly.

It wasn’t really a tune. “You just want me to hum?” Peter asked. “Like, generic humming?”

Rocket curled his lip and the hum became more of a snarl.

“Right, humming,” Peter said hastily.

The funny thing was, the instant his soft hum of response hit the right harmonics with the note Rocket was humming (and the raccoon did have a good sense of pitch; Peter had always suspected so) he understood exactly what Rocket was getting at.

“Ohhhhh. When Groot talks, it’s like a symphony. Is that what you mean? And the 'I am Groot’ part is the part in the human audible range.”

Rocket’s ears and tail went up cheerfully. “Yeah, ezzactly. He’s tryin’ to communicate, it’s just he didn’t get any farther than 'I am Groot’ when he was learning. It’s as hard for him to do the talkin’ part for the translators as it is for you and me to do his kind of talk. He can hear us just fine, though. Actually to him, understanding our talk is dead easy.”

“So how do we understand him?” Peter asked. “Can you, I dunno, juice up the translator so it picks up a higher range of frequencies, or something?”

“I dunno. That’s not a bad idea.” Rocket tapped his claw against his teeth before picking up the screen thing and hopping off the table. “Have to think on it. Don’t wanna explode your heads or anything.”

“Yeah, well, on that lovely note, I’m goin’ to bed.” He actually was tired enough now to fall asleep in spite of the inevitable nightmares (the bitter cold and darkness of space; Ego’s face dissolving in his hands; his friends crushed by rocks or blown apart). The music helped as it always had, a melodic bulwark against the dark, wrapped gently around his heart – but it could only do so much.

Rocket grunted absently as he trotted off, already engrossed in figuring out the problem.

The thought occurred to Peter as he wandered back to his quarters, thumbing idly through the songs on the Zune, that these sorts of mechanical puzzles served the same purpose for Rocket as his music did for him: something to make his mind go quiet.

The music did that … and so did letting Gamora beat the stuffing out of him in the ship’s small exercise area. Or getting language lessons from Rocket. Or –

“I am Groot?”

Peter jumped as small hands grabbed hold of his pants leg. Groot shimmied quickly up to perch on his shoulder.

“Hey, little buddy.” Peter opened the door to his quarters and left it open so Groot could come and go as he wanted. Or so he could hear if anybody got into a fight or whatever. He flopped wearily on his unmade bed, careful not to dislodge Groot. “You know, I’m not sure how much of this you can understand right now, but Rocket’s teaching me to speak your language.”

“I am Groot?”

“Well, to understand you more than speak it, I guess I should say.” He was lying on his back now and he couldn’t really see Groot except out of the corner of his eye, but he could feel the little tree shifting around in the hollow where the collar of his sweatshirt rested against his neck.

“I am Groot,” Groot said insistently, almost in his ear. Small hands patted at the side of his face and his earlobe.

“Yeah, yeah.” Peter pinched one earbud between two fingers and held it where Groot could get at it. The little hands took it out of his fingers. Peter settled himself comfortably as Groot squirmed somewhat ticklishly against his neck, and sorted through the songs. “How 'bout Elton John tonight, buddy?”

“I am Groot,” came the sleepy answer.

“You know, little guy,” Peter murmured, as the first strains of the music began to play and Groot snuggled comfortably against his neck, “whether or not Rocket can get his new gadget working, I think we understand each other just fine, don’t we?”

“I am Groot!”

someone: oh my god were you CRYING???

me, not even 4 minutes after a full on breakdown: 

Designing Complex Spells

It’s been a while since I’ve made a witchy post. This past full moon, I spent a good deal of time designing a complex spell. You can see the pages I brainstormed for a complex spell above.

For the sake of this post, a complex spell:

  • is sometimes cast to achieve long-term results, without having to consistently recast the spell
  • requires a lot of magical energy
  • requires planning
  • consists of multiple steps, or possibly multiple spells cast in succession

I highly recommend that experienced witches cast these types of spells, mainly because they have the ability to completely drain you. And I don’t want any of you harming your lovely selves!

This post is a guide or, at the very least, food for thought on how to design complex spells. As an example I will use the most recent spell I designed, a spell to worry less about what others think of me.

Step 1: Determine exactly what kind of spell(s) you wish to cast, and in what order.

For example, I created a spell to worry less about what others think of me. But in witchcraft terms, what exactly am I doing? Is it banishment, where I force others to turn their opinions away from me? Is it protecting myself from others’ opinions? Is it cleansing myself from the effect that others have on me? Is it an anti-anxiety spell, or a confidence spell? There’s a lot to consider here that can’t be covered in a single step. Think hard about exactly what you want to achieve. This is a very critical step, so do some brainstorming or sit on it if you must.

Eventually I decided to imitate the weight of others’ opinions on me, cleanse myself of their affect, protect myself from their affect, and then banish others’ affect on me. ( I figured that other peoples’ opinions will be there whether I banish them or not, so I might as well protect myself from them before banishing them from my mind, in a sense.) There are many other ways I could’ve done this spell that would’ve changed the overall intent. But notice how I’m including four spells into one ritual: simulating peoples’ attention on me, cleansing myself, protecting myself, and a banishing at the end.

Step 2: Decide which actions to perform.

In my opinion, action is just as important (if not more) than ingredients in spell work. The action determines what you do with the ingredients you decide on doing. For each spell/step, brainstorm a couple options you could potentially do for that step. Here’s my example:

Ridding Scrutiny: burning, crushing, ripping, trapping in a jar, burying, locking away, cutting, throwing into the wind or into a body of water, snuffing out a candle.

Once you’ve got some potential actions written down, you can decide on which one works best for your particular spell.

Step 3: Decide on materials for each step.

For this step, I advise that you coincide the magical properties of the materials to the purpose of the spell. For example, I had originally thought of ripping up rose petals for the banishing spell, but later decided that that wouldn’t work. Roses symbolize love and peace, and it makes no sense to banish that from my life, when I really want to banish the weight of other peoples’ expectations set on me.

Now that you know exactly what your intentions are, and what actions you’ll be doing with the materials, it’ll be easier to decide on which ingredients to use when. These ingredients don’t only include herbs or crystals–I included mirrors, sticky notes, cleaning wipes, washcloth, and anything else I needed.

I know these are listed as only three basic steps, but hopefully it helps you form an idea on how to design complex spells. If you have any extra ideas or questions, add on to this post, or message me anytime. ☆=(ゝω・)/

That’s all from me for now! Blessed be!! ( ´ ∀`) /.☆.。.:*・°

The Ipliers Interact (part 6)

Dr. Iplier: So what are you exactly..?

Google: I am an extension of the Google search engine, created for the primary objective of answering questions as quickly as possible.

Dr. Iplier: So you’re basically like Siri.

Google: NO. I am NOT like Siri!

Warfstache walks in: Hey Cortana, come here.

Google: You assholes are going to make me short circuit.

it’s may. from now on we have harry’s album, harry’s concert tickets, a week of late late show, possibly niall’s new music, liam’s new music AND louis’ second single. this post doesnt make sense it was just to say that it’s a new month so pLEASE for the love of GOD please PLEASE *** **