i have nothing to do right now . .;;

Tentative Writing Plans for the Week

Those of you that have followed me for a while know I’m a survivor of PTSD.  Those of you that have followed me for a while know I’m going through a nasty relapse right now.  It’s taken a while, but I believe I’ve hit the pit of despair as far as this relapse goes.  It’s not pretty, I hate it and feel horrible.  I can’t put it into words other than “Please let it pass soon, I can’t handle this.”

I really don’t like divulging my personal problems on my blog as they are that: personal.  They have nothing to do with writing whatsoever, but this relapse is starting to impact my writing and I fucking loathe it.  

My updates are getting slower and not up to my standards.  I have found myself the past week writing just for the sake of writing updates as I know you guys love it!  Well, I can’t do it right now.  I can get Inked, BtP and possibly the next MbA out this week, but other than that I do not have any tentative writing plans for the week.  

I don’t know how long this is going to last but believe me when I say I AM NOT ABANDONING ANY OF MY PROJECTS!  They bring me life and while it pains me to take a step back, I have to do it.  

I’m sure most will understand and I beg for your patience.  I’ve tried to hold on as long as I could and fight this, but I’m losing this time.  The darkness is winning and it’s time to fight it headlong with everything I have.

I love you guys.  Truly.  Please understand.


anonymous asked:

Today, after years and years of not doing it, I sent a semi-mean ask to someone for no reason other than the person liking something I don't like. I thought I was making progress but something set me off, like I lost awareness of myself. I feel terrible and this usually happens when I feel nothing's going right in my life, frustration. Not an excuse but I thought I'd eradicated that bad habit by now :(, just feels like an erasure of hard work.

You didn’t erase any progress, but took another step forward. Now you understand how bad you feel when to do that. All the mean messages that you haven’t sent over the years have saved a lot of hurt. If you haven’t already, send an apology. That always helps.

In Buddhism the five gatekeepers of speech are:

1. Is it true? 

 2. Is it kind? 

 3. Is it beneficial? 

 4. Is it necessary? 

 5. Is it the right time?

These can help you reflect as you talk and type.

anonymous asked:

What are you thoughts on Grant and Candices acting? Like separately. Do you think they're good for CW stars, good in general, or too good for CW? It doesn't have to be those three options though

I think they are both strong actors, look at what they’ve been able to do with the weak writing on the show (especially Candice). I don’t think they are “too good” for the CW, the CW is giving them steady work right now, and a #1 show, that’s nothing to sneeze at. I also don’t watch many CW shows, so IDK about the quality of acting on those shows. 

What do NBABM (nothing but a black man) Black women gain from discouraging other black women from dating outside of their race?

Wouldn’t that mean more black kangs for you? If more black women date outside their race, you don’t really have to compete anymore, right? I mean y'all say that you have nothing but good black men in your lives and you are surrounded by good brothas. I would think that you’d be hype to see some of us go, because now the pickings aren’t so slim right?
Unless of course, you’re lying…

Right now I feel - just like a leaf on a breeze
Who knows where it’s blowin’
Who knows where it’s goin’
I find myself somewhere I - I never thought I’d be
Going round in circles
Thinking about you and me
How do I expalin it when I don’t know what to say
What do I do now - so much has changed

Nothing I have ever known - has made me feel this way
Nothing I have ever seen - has made me want to stay
but here I am - ready for you…


Criminal Minds AU Episode 12: Penelope

-Episode Guide-

Previously On…

@dontshootmespence @sassygeek77 @sophiiev @britneynicole28 @determinedpines @milkandcookies528 @onebigfangirlworld @malaklovesunicorns @trollitis @the-slytherin-ice-queen @reiding-and-writing @bulldozed88 @cherrybombs-and-rabbitholes @mxolh @ultrarebelheart


Part 6

JJ shook her head as she and Emily were forced to merely stand and look on while Internal Affairs went through their desks, taking everything having to do with the recent investigation into Garcia’s shooting. As much as they all knew that it was highly unlikely Garcia was dealing with anything illegal, there was nothing Hotch could do right now. And, unfortunately, that meant they were basically helpless at this point.

“This is ridiculous. You can’t just take our case away from us like this,” JJ said, folding her arms.

“Unfortunately for you, I can,” the IA agent replied, packing files away in his briefcase. “Until we know what Ms. Garcia is involved with and how it led to her getting shot, we can’t take any chances.”

“If you knew anything about Garcia, you would know how crazy it is to suggest she would be involved in anything illegal,” Prentiss said angrily.

“Really?” the IA agent asked, eyeing Prentiss with a rather condescending expression. JJ figured he should count himself lucky that Emily wasn’t punching him out right now. “Let me ask you this, agents, do either of you know precisely how your precious analyst got into the FBI in the first place?”

Without waiting for a response from either of them, he closed his briefcase with a snap and headed towards the elevator without a backward glance. JJ and Emily exchanged questioning glances with each other. Garcia had been employed at the Bureau right before JJ and several years before Prentiss. And the more JJ thought about it, the more she realized that she didn’t actually know how Garcia got this job. True, she was truly gifted at what she did and was perfect for their team, but upon first meeting her, almost nothing about her would suggest that she was one to go and work for the government.

So what on earth would make a peppy, happy ray of sunshine like Penelope Garcia take on a job that often brought so much pain and sadness?


The doctors had declared Garcia fit enough to go home provided she get plenty of rest and refrain from doing anything too strenuous for at least a couple days to give herself time to heal. Considering the fact that she was going to be suspended for an undisclosed amount of time, this shouldn’t prove to be too difficult. Unfortunately, until this guy was found and caught, the stress was going to be weighing heavily on the poor analyst, making it difficult for her to truly rest.

But, fortunately for her, Morgan had already sworn to stay by her side until this was all over. After being discharged, Garcia was driven back to her house with her gentlemanly escort while the Reid twins headed back to the BAU to see what help they could give the team. Though the pain in her abdomen was nowhere near as bad as it had been immediately following the shooting, it still was slightly uncomfortable to move around. Morgan kept his arms wrapped protectively around her as they headed up to her apartment.

The first challenge came when they reached the front steps. Though an attempt had been made to clean it up, the concrete still bore a reddish, brown stain. As Garcia stared down at it, tears filled her eyes as she saw her body lying there. She remembered how quiet everything had gone. How the pain had gone from blindingly white hot to almost non-existent. How she had held her breath as James leaned over her, and even then, she wasn’t fully convinced she was still actually alive.

Morgan squeezed her shoulder gently. “It’s just a stain, Baby Girl,” he whispered in her ear. “It’ll wash off. Don’t worry.” She remained frozen for a moment longer, but finally allowed Morgan to lead her inside.

As they stepped inside the apartment, Garcia saw Morgan smile for the first time in days, a slight chuckle erupting from his mouth as he looked around at the giant contrast of colors, patterns, figurines, and flashy pictures that covered nearly every inch of her apartment.

“I would expect nothing less,” he said, shaking his head.

Garcia smiled back. “You should be flattered. Not many people are invited in off the grid.”

Morgan perused her living room a bit more as she pulled her shoes off and put on the fluffiest and comfiest pair of slippers she owned. She grabbed her favorite blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it around her body, turning around and seeing that Morgan had found her projector.

“Is this a Super 8?” he asked, sounding impressed. She nodded and walked over to it, flipping the switch to start the reels. Instantly, film images began playing out, projected on the large white sheet she had hanging on the far wall. These reels contained home movies, short films of a young Penelope, reading a book with her father, smiling over a large birthday cake with her mother.

“My parents were hippies,” Garcia said as they watched the film. “I guess you could say that’s where you could say my whole positive outlook on life came from.”

She trailed away slightly, feeling a catch in her throat. Morgan, no doubt using those profiling skills of his, spoke his next words in a soft voice. “How old were you when you lost them?”

Garcia took a deep breath. “Eighteen,” she replied. “Drunk driver. I’ve basically been on my own ever since.”

She knew that also spoke a lot to her character. Living on her own barely out of high school definitely shaped her into an introvert. Unable to face the day-to-day pain of what had happened to her parents, she had turned to technology, losing herself into the mystical realms of the World Wide Web. On there, she could be anyone.

She barely noticed that Morgan had stepped away until she saw him looking at some papers on her desk. “What’s all this?” he asked, pointing to a schedule.

“I run a support group once a week,” Garcia replied. “To help counsel families of victims.”

Morgan shook his head. “Baby Girl, you don’t get enough of this at work?”

Garcia shrugged. “I just want to give them some closure, you know?”

Morgan smiled at her. He glanced down the hallway towards her bedroom. “Well, I think it’s about time you go get some rest.”

As much as she wanted to argue, Garcia did suddenly feel herself growing rather tired. It had been an eventful last few days, and she had a feeling she was about to have an eventful few more. A couple hours’ sleep couldn’t hurt.

“Well, thank you so much for bringing me home,” Garcia began, but Morgan held up his hand, stopping her.

“Whoa, whoa, hold on a second,” Morgan said. “You trying to kick me out or something?”

“Derek, you don’t have to stay,” Garcia said, not wanting to put him out anymore than she already had.

But he shook his head and pointed to her couch. “That couch right there is going to be my best friend until we find this guy.”

Garcia opened her mouth to argue, but realized it was pointless. And besides, she found herself smiling at the thought that she had such a wonderful friend like Derek Morgan to protect and watch over her. She always knew she was lucky to have him, but it was moments like this that highlighted just how lucky she really was.

“Okay,” she said. “Well, I will bid you adieu, my dear Morgan.” She smiled wider as she added, “Thank you. For everything.”

As she turned and headed to her bedroom, Morgan stopped her. “Hey, silly girl.” She turned around and saw that his eyes were more serious than she’d ever seen them. “I love you. You know that, right?”

Garcia smiled wider than ever. “I love you too.”


Night had fully fallen when he finally made his way back to her apartment. He knew he should have just shot her in the head to begin with. Make sure this whole thing had ended that night on those front steps. Now he was left with a mess that needed to be cleaned up. And the fact that the FBI was now involved certainly wasn’t going to make this any easier.

But he wouldn’t worry about that now. He had a job to do. A job that he had done so many times before. It should be second nature by now. He shouldn’t be making slip-ups like this anymore. Enough was enough. This thing was ending tonight.

As he approached the entrance to the apartment complex, he saw a squad car parked out front. That didn’t worry him. She was an FBI agent who had been shot in front of her home. Of course they were going to give her surveillance. Nothing he hadn’t dealt with before.

“Can I help you, sir?” the officer asked as he walked towards the squad car.

“Just out for a walk,” he replied, careful to keep his voice casual. “Nice night for a walk, you know?”

The officer eyed him suspiciously for a moment but merely nodded and moved aside. “You be careful out there, sir. Have a good night.”

“You as well,” he said, walking past the officer. However, he had barely gone two steps before he heard the subtle movement behind him. The officer barely had time to reach for his holster before he had turned around, his revolver in his hand, two loud gunshots ringing in the otherwise silent night air.


Morgan leapt off the couch in an instant. The shots outside had sounded almost as clear as if they were inside the apartment. Within seconds, he was on his feet, his gun in his hand, all thoughts of sleep immediately gone from his mind.


He saw Garcia standing in the hallway, holding her sore stomach, her eyes wide in terror.

“It’s okay, Garcia. It’s okay!” he said, desperately trying to keep her calm as he made his way to the window and peered through the curtains. On the front lawn below, he saw two figures. The one on the ground was definitely Officer Marksman who had been assigned to remain on surveillance for the evening. And the man running away from his prone figure was undoubtedly the man who shot him. And Morgan had a good idea he already knew why this guy was here.

“Garcia, come here!” he said, running forward and grabbing her arm, leading her into the corner of the apartment, out of sight of the windows but in clear view of the door.

“All right, listen to me,” he added hurriedly, knowing how important these next words were. He reached down into his ankle holster and pulled out a second gun. “I need you to take this gun.”

Just as he predicted, Garcia looked even more terrified, furiously shaking her head. “No. No, I can’t. I don’t believe in guns.”

“Well, trust me, they are very real,” he said, setting the weapon into Garcia’s hands. “Now I need you to stay in this corner and keep your finger on that trigger. If anyone besides me comes through that door—anyone—then you squeeze that trigger as hard as you can, okay?”

Tears were streaming down her cheeks now, but he was happy to see her nod. “I’ll be right back,” he said, not too keen about leaving her in this position right now, but also knowing that this was the best chance they had gotten in four days at catching this guy.

He raced out the back door and hurriedly climbed down the fire escape. In the distance, he could just make out the shooter rounding the corner into an alley on the side of the apartment complex. Morgan chased after him, his gun out and ready. Just give me a target, you son of a bitch, he thought as his legs pushed on faster. Protocol was in the back of his mind right now as all he could think about was putting a bullet in between this bastard’s eyes.

As he rounded the corner, Morgan was met with an empty alleyway. And even though he had been expecting it, it did nothing to hide the anger growing in the pit of his chest. He was not about to let this guy get away so easily. Who knew when he would surface again?

As luck would have it, just as Morgan had been about to give up the hunt, he saw a figure emerge from the shadows at the end of the alley and immediately start scaling the chainlink fence at the end of it. Morgan started running again, holstering his weapon temporarily as grabbed onto the fence, hurdling over it and continuing the chase.

However, as they rounded to the front of the building, Morgan saw nothing but the body of Officer Marksman on the front lawn. As much as he wanted to keep going after this guy, he couldn’t risk leaving Garcia unguarded, especially since her only protective detail was now lying dead on the ground. He couldn’t catch this guy on foot, but maybe the local PD would have a better chance.

Leaning down over Marksman’s body, he grabbed the radio on the dead officer’s uniform. “Officer down! I repeat, officer down! Requesting backup at 224 N. Ridgeway Dr. Suspect is armed and on foot, heading east on Larkin Ave.”

“Copy that, Agent. Backup is on its way,” the reply crackled on the other end.

Even though he knew protocol was to stay and wait for the backup to arrive, Morgan couldn’t leave Garcia up there by herself any longer. Not with how terrified he was. Not only that, but there was a chance that the shooter had managed to slip in the back way and head up there himself. Morgan took his gun back out and hurriedly made his way upstairs.

The hallways and stairwell were empty, and Garcia’s apartment door was still closed. Morgan crept up to it and listened hard. He couldn’t hear anything inside. Taking a deep breath, his weapon cocked and ready, he put his hand on the doorknob and pushed himself inside.

Garcia’s terrified scream rang in his ears as she came out of the corner, trembling and sobbing, the gun in her hands pointed straight at him. He immediately threw his hands in the air, trying to calm her down.

“Garcia! Hey, hey! It’s okay! It’s me!” She seemed frozen for a moment, but he was pleased to see that her grip on the gun seemed to relax slightly. “It’s Morgan, baby.”

She opened her mouth as if to speak, but was only able to choke out more sobs. Morgan holstered his weapon again and crossed the room to her, taking the gun from her trembling hands and immediately wrapping her in a tight embrace. She fell heavily against him, sobbing into his chest.

“Why is this happening to me?” she cried out, her body shaking with fright and sorrow.

“I don’t know,” Morgan said, stroking her hair and kissing the top of her head. “But you’re safe now, okay? I got you, and you’re safe.”

anonymous asked:

Something I notice whenever people, outsiders or no, want to blanket Sterek with the racist label, it's always about blame. The same people angry that Sterek took off are the same one that gave Jeff Davis all the pats on the back for hiring Posey. Davis did the bare minimum but they gave him all the praise and that was all BEFORE sterek really became a thing. So why do we have the shoulder the blame when the show never did right by Posey in the first place (½)

So because they let Davis skirt by with doing literally nothing with Scott now we’re to blame because we don’t care. TW isn’t like other shows and films (The Force Awakens, Sleepy Hollow, Shadowhunters, The Flash) that started out doing really well in terms of representation and have since fallen short since, and their fandom have done really messed up crap in term of characters of color. Those shows began on a higher note than TW ever did. (2/2)

We thought TW was diverse and different when it aired and it quickly showed it’s true colors.  

one of my youth leaders at church who is my favorite person ever is going through a divorce right now and he’s still obviously upset. they have 4 kids….two of them are adults. I feel bad because there’s nothing I can do to help. I was also kind of wanting to talk to him about stuff I’m struggling with which I never have before but I feel so alone and he’s really understanding and caring but I’m not going to bother him because I don’t want to bother him with my problems. He has enough of his own.

I really want to do Disney DCTV week, and I want to do a different ship each day, but it’s so hard when I want to Flashwave and Coldflash everything. Right now, I have:

Atlantis: Barrisco (Barry as Kida, Cisco as Milo)

Cinderella: I was thinking Coldwest or Olivarry, but I’m not sure.

BATB: Flashwave (I’ve wanted one for a while)

Aladdin: Coldflash (I’ve been planning a modern version of Aladdin with coldflash, but I’m not sure if I’m going to use it)

The Little Mermaid: Kidcold (Wally as the mermaid, Len as the prince)

Mulan: I got nothing

Tarzan: Atomwave

*sigh* I have so much to do though…why do I do this to myself? 

By Way of Spontaneity (End)

Summary: On a whim, Bucky declares you to be his girlfriend to his grandma and mother. They’re eager to meet you and he asks you to pretend to be with him for just one dinner with his family. But is that really all?

Word Count: 1,185

Warnings: None.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

A/N: Thank you for coming on this journey with me! Here’s to the next series! <3 

Originally posted by buckysqueenbitch

Bucky felt like a lab rat, being observed and analyzed to the deepest parts of himself. Fidgeting, he glared at Steve and Peggy. “What?”

“What?” scoffed Steve. “We should be asking you that. What the hell is going on, Bucky? You don’t really look like you care so much that your girlfriend is cheating on you.”

Bucky raised a finger and gave him a cheeky smile. “Actually, I have fed you the incorrect information?”

“Fed us?” asked Peggy, voice filled with indignation. “What are we, your pets?”

“I’m just sayin’! I haven’t been completely honest with you.”

“Then what is the truth, Buck? Because it’s all pretty confusing right about now, and your ‘girlfriend’ is not exactly the best of persons at the moment,” said Steve, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked every bit the part of a father and Bucky stopped himself from teasing his cousin.

Keep reading


ExR Week Day 2:  It’s Not What It Looks Like (It’s Way Worse!)

We all have embarrassing celebrity crushes when we’re teenagers, Enjolras’ one just happened to be on Robespierre (he still has a crush on him, but he keeps it lowkey, yeah, right).

(Now, I know it’s kinda shitty but I wanted to finish it for day two prompt and only had like three hours to do it. Also, it’s 23:40 hrs here in my country, so it still counts as the second day, yay!) This is probably the most ridiculous thing I have ever thought about and yet I regret nothing about it XD

The Package.

Pairing : Sam x Reader
Word count : 2,550
Author : Mel
Warnings : Knotting, Smut, Dom/Sub, A/B/O Roleplay, pinch of praise kink, mention of breeding kink
Square filled : Knotting
Written for @spnkinkbingo


“Hey, Y/N?” Your door opened and you panicked, slamming the laptop shut. “.. What are you up to?”

“Nothing.” You were quick to answer. Maybe too quick.

His eyes moved down to your lap, his eyebrow raising, and a smirk beginning to show. “Your hand says otherwise.” His eyes went back up to meet yours as you quickly pulled your hand out of your pants.

Your cheeks went bright red. “W-what do you need?”

Keep reading

Half cosplay, half my rad photoshop skillz

(Amelia, the Burrowing Owl Siren from @emo-rock-tale)

hey guys. i really hate doing this but i’m in a pretty tough situation rn. i was just kicked out of my house and i have nowhere to go. i have very little money and i had to quit my job so i have no steady pay cheque. i feel so bad for doing this but i am just at a loss rn.

if any of you have anything to spare, would you please consider donating it to my paypal? even if you don’t have anything, (pls don’t donate unless you have stuff to spare!! i dont wanna take money u need from you) would you just consider reblogging this to spread the word? i’m so sorry to be doing this & thank you to everyone who chips in

paypal.me/rachelbrew (my paypal)

Angel in the Darkness (M) pt.3

Originally posted by aestheticvbts

Summary: After a patient urgently pleads you to go and help a friend of his, you naively agree to it. Little did you know, that you would get more than what you agreed to, when he leads you to a brothel, to help a dangerous prostitute named Jeon Jungkook.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (ft. Jin, but not romantically)

Genre: Smut (M), angst, mafia!au, prostitution!au

Word Count: 5,997

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

I can’t believe I’m doing this again, you think to yourself. You close your eyes, and listen to the engine of the crowded bus, as you were currently on your way to pay mister ‘Kookie’ a visit. You start to slowly replay the scenes of Jin yelling at you, to desperately go back and meet the prostitute…

Keep reading

child-of-hephaestus  asked:

Do you have any tips for coming out?

Take your time! You’re on your own path, don’t let anyone tell you how quickly you need to come out or when is the right time for you. Also, if people aren’t okay with your identity, a reassuring thing I always suggest saying is reminding them that nothing actually has changed about you - you’ve always been this way, now you’re just being more honest with them.

Finally - it’s so brave to be loudly & unapologetically yourself - but it’s just as brave to take your time & know when it’s safe for you to do so. THERE IS NO RUSH!

In the first episode of, “Chosen Family: Stories of Queer Resilience” & chat with Gus Kenworthy about our coming out experiences, & he gave some incredible tips for those struggling with their own coming out processes.