i-can-only-be-serious-for-so-long

anonymous asked:

Can I marry you,IBSans? Is it even possible to marry you?

legally, i don’t think it’s possible. but mentally? sure ya can! and the thought of marrying you, staying with you forever, to have and to hold, ‘til death do us part…*sighs* doesn’t sound so bad.

but i think we should start by dating. marriage has really serious implications, and while imaginary marriage is as easy to break off as a plain old imaginary relationship, divorce feels…even sadder than a breakup.

so only marry me if ya think we’re gonna be together for a long time, okay?

anonymous asked:

Hey! I hope you don't think I'm trolling, because I'm really not and its serious. I am 17 years old and have been interested in true crime for a while , especially the case of bobby Joe long.when I heard you could write to prisoners he was the first person I thought of. But then I saw your posts about him and what he is like, so now in not so sure. Do you think hes changed? Would he be like that with me because I'm a young girl? I hope you can answer as your opinion would be very importat to me

Bobby Joe Long isn’t only a serial killer, he’s a sexual predator.  I’m not really sure why you would think “he’s changed”, that isn’t possible.  I also didn’t write him that long ago, why would he change?  He’s 62.  You’re 17.  He’s on Death Row, the only tie he has now to women is through the mail.  I’m not trying to judge you but I don’t think you have any place writing Long.  He’s a manipulative sexual predator and you’re underage.  I can’t tell you what to do, I have no idea who you are.  I just don’t think it’s a good idea.  Long is smart and experienced, he would most likely play mind games with you.  Not sure why you’d put yourself in that position.

Help Me See My Boyfriend

I wouldn’t make this post if this weren’t my only option right now. My boyfriend and I have been together two years now. It’s been over a year since I’ve seen him, and its been very difficult not being in person for so long. I am writing this hoping that I can get the word out there, so I can see him during Spring Break for his Birthday. I am open for art commissions. My lowest prices for a commissions is $10. If I get just thirty purchases of $10 commissions I will be able to see him. If interested please message me on here or at my e-mail (benjamincalebcampbell@gmail.com) My price chart is available here. If you can’t purchase at this time, please share. Thank you everyone. 💖

Road Trippin' (Human AU): Chapter 1

An Arnick and Tetrox fic I’ve been thinking up, hopefully it’s to your liking. If I’ve taken artistic liberties with colours, I apologize… Probably will be a mostly serious story, as opposed to fluffy?

______________

It’s amazing how life can feel so short when you’re living it, but looking back, it all took way too long. Years and years of the same thing happening every day got to you eventually. Arnick pulled his grandfather’s cap low over his eyes and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. The van was the only thing he owned now, other than a few changes of clothes, a can of gas, and a camp stove. He’d saved up for years, scrounging every spare cent to prepare his escape. He couldn’t use his parents funds. Oh, the money spent wouldn’t hurt them, wouldn’t even set them back. But he couldn’t owe them anything when he left. The split was final, sudden, and on his terms.
The problem with running away, however, you never really had a destination. Your only goal was to be away from the balled fists and stinging words. Cartographers never seemed to mark “Safe” on maps. But they did mark gas stations and rest areas, which would have to do for now.

“Happy 18th birthday to me.” Arnick muttered sarcastically, cranked the engine and sped away.

The highways wound endlessly through the countryside, a shining pavement gash alongside fields of grain and corn. The days were hot, way too hot for the van’s pitiful AC to ward off. It was like being baked alive in a sardine tin. His grandfather’s words pounded in his ears over and over, reminding him of his predicament.

“The only way to survive a southern summer is to drink. It doesn’t matter what you drink, as long it’s more water than sugar. If you don’t drink, you could die. Simple as that.”

This  dull chant resounded through the boy’s hazy mind as he heard the last water jug thunk to the floor where he threw it, empty. The next rest stop wasn’t for another 100 miles, and the plains of wheat seemed to have no end.


Tetrox heard the knock at the front door and nearly choked on her toothbrush in surprise. Her cousin wasn’t supposed to be back from the fields for another few hours, and it’s not like the neighbors were going to be visiting. Another knock, more urgent this time, came to the door. Throwing a robe over her pajamas, she cautiously approached the door and peered through the peephole. A young man, bleary eyed and haggard from heat exhaustion, dressed in ill-fitting clothes and a tattered peaked cap, stood on the doorstep. His face was shaded, but Tetrox could still see how bloodshot his eyes were..
“Is anyone there?” he gasped out “I need water… Please… Water.”
Tetrox snatched the door open as quickly as she could. Stranger danger or not, she couldn’t let some kid die on the doorstep. She hustled the frail teen to the kitchen and showed him to the sink. Greedily, he sucked down cool, clear water from the faucet.
“Don’t drink too fast,” Tetrox warned. “You’ll make yourself sick.” Predictably, the boy’s cheeks swelled with bile and water, but he swallowed it down and took a moment to gasp for air.
“Thank you” Arnick panted, using the counter to prop himself up. “Thank you so much. I was done for, if not for you.” Tetrox shook her head in disbelief and pulled up a chair from the kitchen table for him, which he gratefully slumped into.
“Don’t think too highly of me, anyone would’ve done the same. But, are you okay? What happened?” The girl questioned her guest, who willingly answered in between gulps of water from a large glass that was proffered to him.
As it turned out, there was quite the story behind his predicament. After running out of water, eventually the van broke down, a massive leak bursting from the radiator, billowing thick smoke, because problems love to compound. But loath to abandon his vehicle, the teen pushed it down the road, for nearly 8 miles. The scrapes, mud, and cramping muscles validated his story.
Looking out the window, she could see that the vehicle wasn’t much more than a tin box on wheels, but still, that’s a long way to push anything.
“Thank you. Without your help, I probably would have died. I’m not going to forget that.” Arnick sat up straight, adjusted his hat, and eyed her seriously. “I don’t know how I could possibly repay you, but I don’t think it’s in my power to. To make up for it, I’ll be leaving as soon as possible, so as not to inconvenience you.” Tetrox was stunned by the straightforward statement, as well as the admittance that he was just going to go out and nearly kill himself again, so as to avoid inconveniencing her. Glancing out at the incapacitated van, and back at the near-dead boy with grim eyes sitting in her cousin’s kitchen, Tetrox made a decision.


“No, you are not going back out there.”


“Pardon?” Arnick cocked an eyebrow.


“I can’t just let you try to push an van eighty miles in the middle of summer.” Tetrox held back the words “I don’t want to hear you died.” Arnick was skeptical. In his experience, people who made your decisions for you weren’t someone you could trust.

“Really, I must insist.”
“Too bad. Call it the dark side of southern hospitality. You’re staying here. At least until we can fix up your… uh, ride.” She jerked a thumb at the dead van outside.

“You literally cannot make it without a vehicle. It’s 100 degrees outside, and it’s 60 miles to the nearest anything. I’m sure the vultures will be happy to see you, if you really insist on going.”

Reluctantly, Arnick slowly nodded, and extended his hand. “I suppose I should introduce myself, then. I’m Arnick. My parents couldn’t decide between Arnold and Nicholas.” Tetrox shook the proffered hand. The boy had a firm grip, for having nearly died recently.
“I’m Tetrox. My parents were just weird, and liked chemistry. And poisons…. You probably think it’s dumb. Umm… My middle name is Katherine. That’s not as strange, so, uh, you can call me that if you-”

“Tetrox works. I like it.” Arnick cut her off before she could continue her nervous backpedalling. “My nickname in school was Arse-dick. I’m neither clever nor crude enough to beat that, so I’m not gonna go teasing anyone.” He smiled grimly remembering the not-so-distant past. Tetrox tried to contain her laughter, but she was shaking from the effort. Although Arnick fixed her with a cool glare, he didn’t really mind. She didn’t seem mean-spirited.

Finally able to relax a bit, Arnick took quick stock of his rescuer. A short teenage girl with a Texas accent, who looked slightly older than himself. Purple hair twirled into a messy bun, hazel eyes flecked with gold, wearing pajamas. Tanned skin and the wiry muscles of a casual athlete. Seems to smile a lot, but probably gets embarrassed easily.

Tetrox finally got over her immature giggle-fit, and reclined in her chair with a sigh. Sizing up the boy sat at her cousin’s kitchen table, she realized how odd he looked. Relatively tall and rail thin, his clothes hung off him. They obviously had been bought from a thrift store, as well as having been meant for a much larger man. His posture while seated was terrible, hunched over as if to protect his body with his shoulders. An old peaked military cap covered most of his hair, but what was visible was a dirty blonde, eventually fading to a light red in some places. Dark blue eyes, as to be almost purple stared coldly at her, and his features could only be described as… Severe. His mouth was like a knife gash over a strong, set jaw, and his eyebrows were furrowed intently. His voice came across flat and vanilla, as if he had practiced an inoffensive tone, although he smiled grimly from time to time. The smiles seemed hardly natural to him, as he grimaced immediately afterward, as if he was being punished.
The DING! of the toaster surprised them both.
“Well!” Tetrox hopped up from her seat and began scrambling around the kitchen. “You’re probably hungry. I hope you like French toast.” She scrambled around the kitchen, getting out the ingredients. “It’ll take a bit. Make yourself comfortable.”

Submitted by:  kerosene-and-aliens

Huh, this is interesting take. Let’s see how this continues

I love helping as many of you as possible

But I receive so many questions asking for advice and sometimes I gotta just deal with my own stuff in life, and although I’d love to respond in depth to everyone I just really can’t :( it’s so much to take on board another persons problems as well as your own, and I will continue to help as much as I can but I’m only human and don’t know all the answers every time. Hope that makes sense! Kind of a long / serious post but I just wanted to explain in case anyone felt ignored. ❤️

anonymous asked:

I could seriously read about you talking about Steve and Loki's sex life and kinks all day long. As a reader I'm really invested in these characters (RTC) so it's always wonderful to read insights into their lives, sex or otherwise. I can't choose if I like more the sex or the hurt (and getting fixed). Keeping up with the subject, somewhat, has Steve ever walked into Loki projecting fantasies featuring Steve he couldn't ask for? Now or before they got really serious.

I could talk about all day long, probably! I have. Like. Way too many intricate and detailed headcanons for these guys. And their sex lives and lives in general and feelings and yeah, all kinds of stuff. It is possible I am in too deep. 

But as long as I’m not the only one having fun!

I do not think so. Which is fortunate, because I think that would just provoke a lot of discomfort on Steve’s part, because most of the things Loki uses Steve illusions for are things he knows Steve wouldn’t want to actually do. Like, rougher things, mostly. And Loki’s not entirely sure about the ethics of using Steve’s image like that? But he just doesn’t think about it too much. I think if Steve knew, though, he wouldn’t be…well. Wouldn’t be happy. He’d see it as Loki punishing himself - which, in part, it is - but also feel self-conscious about, like, not being enough. 

Steve did walk in on Loki naked at least once during the period between Loki moving in and them getting serious. It was probably intentional on Loki’s part. He knows the effect he has on people. 

Later on, he has definitely walked in on Loki masturbating, too. Which is fine. Always a little embarrassing at first, but then…yeah. Fine.  

anonymous asked:

For some reason I can do work without much issue in school but when I get home fatigue combined with executive dysfunction leaves me completely unable to finish it. (I attend the schools hw club but its only an hour long and you can only do so much in that time) What can I do that'll make it easier/more likely to do hw at home? Also I want to bring up my executive function issues w/ my parents, but I feel that any serious attempt at discussing it will have them brush me off 1/2

2/2 Like it’s something I want them to be aware of cause I don’t want them to think that I don’t do my work out of laziness (because it’s not that at all) + I feel like getting input from adults on how to deal w/ it + know about this issue would help But I feel any attempt at describing it will just end in them brushing it off as ~me making up excuses~ or ~that’s just you being unmotivated~ So as I mentioned in the last ask (assuming you got it) :o, how can I mention this issue to my parents?


I’d explain it as you have here! It makes perfect sense that after a full day of school and an hour of homework you’re too exhausted to continue working when you get home. It can also be the wrong setting (if you think of home as the place you relax, or do other activities).

If you look at our ‘talking to parents’ tag there will be more advice there about ways to raise issues with parents and explain things, such as writing to them, providing information, and offering suggestions for what might be helpful to you.

Talk to someone at school about this. Ask how long they think you should be spending on homework every night. They might actually agree that you’re being given too much to do, and it might mean things change.

If they feel that the amount of homework set is reasonable then they might still agree that it’s not going to be possible for every single person to work at the same pace, and it would be better to accept partially completed homework, or to have someone ‘sign off’ to verify that you were working (so whoever supervises homework club could verify that you’d attended and been working, and that if you haven’t completed your homework it’s not through lack of effort.

They might also be able to give extensions to make the homework more manageable (so that you can save some for the weekend when you’ll have more energy and time to do it).

Options to help you study/do homework outside of school and homework club:
- go elsewhere (to your local library, perhaps) where you won’t be distracted and can associate that place with working. Ask your parents to take you if necessary.
- ask your parents about setting up a work area in your home.
- set aside some time for resting. You don’t have to go from school, to homework club, to working at home. Make sure you have breaks.

You could also ask your parents to be more involved in your homework. Not to tell you answers, but to help where possible. To look at what you’re being asked to do and to help you to break things down or set smaller targets. It might also help them to appreciate the amount of work you’re being asked to do, and if they think it’s unreasonable they might complain to the school.

If you think it’s possible that you have a diagnosable condition, and you think it would be beneficial to have some formal accommodations and support, then you could consider having a formal assessment. If you are already diagnosed then your school should be providing support. Although they might not be able to help with homework (outside of homework club) they could try to support you more throughout the day so that you aren’t as exhausted after school.

anonymous asked:

Dude, I've only been smoking consistently for about three months, and at first I could get hella high for hella long on two hits, and now I can smoke up to four bowls and be hella chill. Serious progress, I think.

Ahaha same i used to get so baked of one joint haha and now its like 12 cones 3 joints lol

aya-chanxd asked:

Hehe so I was wondering... What pick up lines would the brothers use to get a girl they like?? ^^

Omg, my first ask! Ha I hope I can do this justice! Shu and Reiji are the boys I know best but I’ll see what I can do! (Due to time restraints, I’ll only do the Sakamaki’s) 

Ho’kay so I wasn’t sure if you wanted serious answers or the cheesy pickup lines I’ve been leaving around tumblr, just in case I’ll do as thorough of an answer as I can!  This will be long so I’ll do a “read more”

Keep reading

Feeling conflicted...

Can someone,anyone
Give me more of a purpose to be on tumblr? Seriously sometimes I feel like I should just delete this. 😟

I also wanted to apologize for not posting the 2 prompts I was given, I would love to, I really would. I have serious writers block right now and the prompts were just to much of a challenge atm. If someone wants to give me an easy, detailed prompt, I know I can do it.

That probably won’t happen so I may just be singing off Tumblr for a long while..
I don’t see much of point to it without interaction…

Only people who do are @lucayathegood and @jackxkira

and occasionally @onceuponathunder Thanks for being the only people to talk to me on here 💙⚡
Chapter One.

(Hey guys, I know I haven’t been writing much, I had a serious mind block, but I’m back, /back again/, but yeah, this will be another Fremione fanfic, but long af, and it’s called: I can only describe you in lyrics, I can’tpromiseI will finish it, but I’ll try?) 

//My head is haunting me and my heart feels like a ghost
I need to feel something, cause I’m still so far from home.//


Chapter One

The Burrow was surprisingly quiet on that April twentieth.

Even the trees didn’t dare to whisper the winds secrets, the wood of the house didn’t creak or squeak and the kettle didn’t scream. It was unsettling to say at least, for Hermione Granger, the witch was used to the constant murmuring of chatter, or Molly yelling at on of her many children. Without all the hustle and bustle, The Burrow felt like an empty shell, and abandoned.

She sighed, gathering her feet beneath her, settling herself in a comfortable position on the sofa, a book propped in one hand, a mug of green tea in the other. But for some reason, her mind kept straying from the jumble of words scribbled on the page below her and Hermione was feeling her patience for the book slip further and further away. Without all the movement and colours around her, she was unable to feel comfortable, which then meant she wouldn’t be able to concentrate.

Another sigh departed her mouth as she threw her book to the side and brought her mug to her lips, taking a small sip. Where was everyone? Where they going to be gone all day? Where they alive? Quickly, Hermione craned her neck to glance at the Weasley’s clock.

The small panic she had set herself in soon vanished when she saw that everyone’s hands were on Diagon Alley and tried to get comfy , grasping the book once again . Her own hand was at Home. Molly had added hers and Harry’s names to some spoons after The Battle of Hogwarts, saying that she had already lost one child, she couldn’t bear to know whether or not her other children were safe or not. It would be an understatement to say that Hermione was touched by those words, she’d always looked at Molly as a second mother, a role model and to hear that Molly had mutual feelings, well, it had made the young Witch burst out in tears.

A smile danced across her lips at the memory and how Mrs Weasley had grabbed her and Harry into a bone crushing hug and when she let go, the teenagers gasped for breath, making sure their lungs weren’t punctured. It wasn’t until that day that Hermione had truly felt part of the Weasley’s, even when she had been dating Ron, she had felt as if something had separated her from the rest of the family…Perhaps it was the lack of fiery red hair that identified the Weasleys.

None of those feelings mattered now. She was part of their family, she knew that now. Ever since Percy’s death, the family reached out to Hermione and made sure that she knew they cared, that she was one of them, red headed or not.

“What are you doing here?” a voice broke her train of thought.

“Why should it matter? I do live here now,” she replied, not looking back. She knew who it was, he walked over, the sound of his footsteps and rustling of his dress robes filling the silence, With a flash of magenta, Fred Weasley flopped down beside her, or, across her, arm slung over the back of the sofa, fingertips grazing the skin of her shoulder and long legs sprawled across her knees. Hermione raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him, but he just grinned bashfully back.

“Trust me I didn’t forget, you are in mine and Gred’s old room, it’s upsetting to see it filled with so many girly things,”

She hit him on the arm with the book clutched in her hands.” You ass,”

“Now that’s something I still can’t get over,” he grinned,” You swearing, it’s weird,”

With a roll of her eyes, Hermione reached to place down her book and grasp her tea,’ Well,’ she took a sip and glanced back at the lanky red head, ‘Get used to it. Besides it’s your fault anyway,”

Fred mocked a hurt expression, placing his hands over his heart,” ‘Mione you wound me! You can’t blame me for your crude behaviour! I reckon you’ve always been a potty mouth, just hid it well,”

She scoffed.

She hadn’t been lying that Fred and George had influenced her enough that she now swore and it didn’t stop there. Not only did she now have a habit of swearing profoundly, she was starting her journey of a Prankster. So far, she had gotten Bill, Harry and Ginny and had received a ‘Congratulations you’re now a mischievous devil,’ cake from Fred and George.

In the past year, the Twins had become very important to Hermione, they were her support after the War had finished; Harry was gone for a few months with Ginny, to sort his head out and make sure Teddy was okay, and Ron…Ron hid himself in his room every day and night, leaving now and then and returning either days or weeks later. She had had no one.

Until that night, the Twins were staying at The Burrow and Fred had walked past her bedroom and heard her sobs. He came in and hugged her and that was it, the start of an unlikely friendship.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, “ What about the shop?”

Fred stretched, cracking his neck and groaning softly,, “George reckoned I needed a break, he treats me like some kind of baby,”

“Well, you did have a wall collapsed down on top of you,” Hermione reminded him, her eyes instantly drawn to the the right side of Fred’s suit. Under the robes, she knew a long, jagged scar stained his freckled skin, if she looked close enough, she could see the top of it slip out slightly above his dress robe.

“Yeah, I think I know that,’ he yawned, throwing his head back, meaning that Hermione was watching his adam’s apple bob with each word he spoke, “ But I just wish that he, no, everyone would treat me normal, I mean…I don’t know,”

Hermione shifted under the weight of Fred’s legs, waiting a moment before speaking,” Fred, it’s only been a year, your family ar-”

“Are stilling adjusting to life without Percy and are worried that my injuries will cause me trouble, blah blah, blah, no offence Hermy, but I know, you’ve said it like, ten billion times,” he looked up at her and grinned, “ I had a dream, you know, that it was me who died,”

‘’Fred,’’

‘’No, no listen. Then after that, you and Ronniekin’s got married, Harry with Ginny and you guys had kids and everything was happy, and sometimes I wonder, if it should have been that way,’’ his voice was heavy, low.

Hermione pushed his legs of of hers, eyes fixed on his face,’ Fredrick Weasley, how dare you! You know damn well that the way everyone is feeling right now, would apply to your death. And, oh, just imagine George, he’d be lost without you. I - I’d be lost without you! So stop talking a load of crap!’’

Fred didn’t say anything, just looked past Hermione, concentrating on the kitchen table. Then suddenly, his signature grin grew across his face, reaching his ears.

‘Got cha’” he grinned, but it did not reach his eyes.

Hermione felt her stomach twist in a tight knot, the urge to beat Fred to death with her book was close enough to unbearable but she held back, digging her bitten fingernails into the hardcover of the novel. Sometimes, Fred made jokes that Hermione hated with a deep passion, such as this one, where he would ever so slightly let her peek into his mind, a place very difficult to gain insight on. The witch sometimes thought it was probably a place similar to a Blackhole.

His consciousness was once a bright galaxy, grey, white and gold stars scattered across this universe; a beautiful sight, magnificent and left her in awe whenever he would paint a new idea. But then, the War crept in, shrouding all the light, consuming all his happy thought, gorging on them until fat and satisfied, leaving behind not a galaxy, but a swirling black hole of self hatred and guilt.

It was saddening.

To see such a bouncy spirit, crushed by the cruel world.

And who makes the clown laugh?

Fred grabbed her hands, abruptly dragging Hermione back into the world of reality, and she blinked, before turning her gaze to look at him. His brown eyes were squashed by his eyebrows as he squinted at her nails, then peered back into her eyes, tutted and shook his head. The witch pulled back her hand.

“You’ve been biting your nails again,” he state, ” Nasty little habit,”

Hermione scoffed,” Says the one with no nails whatsoever,”

“Yeah listen to one’s experience,” he grinned,” Just think of me as your nail biting prevention professor,”

This made Hermione laugh. She threw her head back, feeling the laugh slip past her lips before looking back towards the red head. He was watching her with a slight grey, irises churning like a calm sea.

“That would be an interesting subject,”

He gave a nod as a reply, before kicking his legs back up onto Hermione’s knees. She didn’t protest, the weight was very familiar, and it eased her mind. Fred crossed his arms behind his head, arched his back just a little bit, before settling back down and yawning.

The witch reached to take another sip of tea, and opened her book again.

Within ten minutes, both had fallen asleep, Hermione’s ocean of hair spilling across Fred’s hips, arms wrapped around his waist lazily. At last, she could concentrate, but not on her book, on her wildest dreams and imagination.

Stan took his boyfriend Rick to meet his brother, but unfortunately Rick had met Stanford on some other planet long before.
“So that’s why I had an odd feeling of dejavu when I first saw Stan,” thought Rick.
“OH CRAP how come my brother got involved with this guy?!“thought Stanford.
"WT* *~£#&%=€#£¥$@&#?!?!?!?!"thought Stanley.

Soon after I began to draw this, I realized a serious bug: Bill may come into this world through Rick’s portal gun. So I stopped drawing, and finally made up an explanation that Bill can only travel through gates connecting time and space, but Rick’ portal gun can’t make them travel through time. Ok, problem solved. Then another problem came up. Why didn’t Rick bring Stanford back to the earth? …Maybe the situation was too urgent and dangerous. Maybe Stanford just hated him so much that he didn’t tell him anything. That’s it. I finished drawing before I found out more bugs.
They are really cute together!!!! (and awkward too XD

delightfullyunsurerunaway asked:

Im convinced Kaj is a forever puppy.

so far he totally is - i feel like he’s been here for years but still looks like a weird teenager trying to grow out his beard. 

from a personality point of view i’m kinda hoping his character is going to settle down and become more mature! it might be a puppy thing, he’s only six months after all, but he really doesn’t strike me as the “eager to please” sheltie type. he’s easily bored, can’t busy himself, doesn’t even try to solve puzzle thingies, and behaves borderline stubborn sometimes. we’re not the best match and certainly not partners in crime, but hey. what can you do! he’s still a good pup. we’ll get used to each other with time. 

anonymous asked:

I was actually talking about favourite monsters in the Pokemon, Digimon, etc. ask

Ah, oops, my apologies!

For Pokémon, look here.

Digimon is a lot more harder to pin down since it’s been a long time since I’ve seen anything from it(Frontier aside) and the only thing I can really draw from are the anime series. I guess the closest I can call a favorite is the Gabumon line and related families, mainly because Garurumon is p. cool. Though I gotta give a shoutout to my boy METALGREYMOOOOOON in the Adventure 01 dub. Just because of the voice. Not much else though, sorry!


DONT. Watch the arc v dub the only good thing in there is Shun’s (and probs yuya’s too) voice

So… DO watch the dub?

Serious answer - I’m well aware of what goes behind the Yu-Gi-Oh! dubs, what the localization goes though, and all the changes made - names, music, and most definitely the toning down of more mature plot points(5Ds was rife with this one). I’ve been watching these dubs since the beginning, as far back as the “invisible guns” dudes in the original series. The changes made can be weird, cheesy, or even cringey, sure, but even now, I still get enjoyment out of the dub stuff even with my knowledge of what actually happens in those episodes from other sources.

The point is that I’ve become so jaded and accepting of what the dubs change and edit out, whether they be removing a mention of a character’s death(which sorta begs the notion on why these shows about teens playing card games with monsters depicted need to have death at all - implicit or otherwise), altering someone’s motivations or backstory, or merely replacing the orchestral scores with more generic pieces that never shut up. It’s just something that happens. Sure, I’m all for wanting a show to maintain its integrity and keeping things intact from its transition between languages, even a kid’s show, and you bet I wonder why they still bother with these changes, even now. But I accept what changes are made and move on to enjoy the product that’s left. If it’s still good, then great! If not, then oh well, their fault for changing it.

Now I will admit that I don’t know what major changes are ongoing between the original version of ARC-V and the dub(and would prefer not to know at the moment as I’m watching the dub as it’s released and don’t want to be spoiled), but even if there were serious changes that I may have picked up on, the dub still has a way of getting enjoyment out of me. The duels are very exciting, the voice acting ranges from decent to very good on average(we can agree that Shay(Shun)’s voice is definitely among the best in the dub), the dialogue, while corny, fits in snugly with how other Yu-Gi-Oh! dubs operate(and is leagues better than the stuff I’ve had to listen to in the Pokémon anime recently (as an example), as they sound like they’re phoning it in half the time), and the story is very engaging. And you bet I’m enjoying the hell out of all of the mythology gags.

It’s especially telling as a few months ago I decided to watch ZEXAL in its entirety to try and help lighten my mood and witness how it ended. SPOILERS - I didn’t like it. I found a large chunk of the main cast annoying and vapid, there was a lot of retreading of old ground from the original anime series, and the final villain was a huge letdown. Even if I had watched it in the original Japanese, I still probably would not like it because the overarching story and characters are still the same, only Yuma has a deeper voice and shouts “kattobingu!” every few minutes. And I admit I was hesitant about going into ARC-V when I noticed the first few eps’ dubs available after watching ZEXAL, but I was pleasantly surprised at how much better it felt once I started watching. I got my bro Ron into it too and he’s having as much fun as I am with it.

This is all my opinion of course, but it’s one I feel strongly about. Others have the right to feel offended if something you loved in its original format gets butchered in another language, and that’s perfectly fine, but it’s safe to say that I’m perfectly fine with things the way they are now for the dubs.

Sorry if that was long winded! Hey @edgymag, if you have anything to add, go ahead!

Let me explain something.

If you “don’t care” about the theatre, please fucking leave. What we do is from the heart; it’s full of every raw emotion and ounce of passion we have. After high school, it’s not “just because I like it” anymore. The rest of us are preparing for the rest of our lives, for our future careers.

I sought out college and further training because I know that in the long run, I will become the best I can be. And that should be the main reason you persue education. If you can easily say “I wouldn’t have chosen this, but-,” you obviously aren’t serious enough and don’t really care, and quite frankly, we don’t have time for you. You’re only going to bring the rest of us down.

So please, do us all a favor and take your piss poor attitude out the stage doors and don’t come back. We’ll be just fine without you.

swordchucksyo asked:

OK, from that, Anakin is in an Si-Fi loop. When he finds his mother dead he gets angry and slaughters the village that kidnapped her (including innocent women and children), goes to Padme for serious Fi brooding and whining, and gives in to the dark side out of fear that what happened to his mother will happen to Padme (as he had a vision of Padme's death as well as Schmi's), and he's SUPER impulsive. Plus, only one option at the end (lack of Ne): "If you aren't with me, then you're my enemy"

Sounds like a definite possibility (I’m sorry I just haven’t seen the film in so long i can’t really offer too much info)

anonymous asked:

hey azzi you don't have to talk about this but when your depressed how do you know? do you wake up depressed or do you feel it or what?

I don’t mind talking about my depression, really. This is the only place (apart from my medical professionals’ offices) where I can talk about it openly.

So, I have what’s called dysthymia or chronic depression. Basically, this is a long-lasting depression that needs constant treatment. There’s good news, though. Typically speaking, dysthymia isn’t as intense as major depressive disorder or a trigger-precipitated depressive episode. 

I’m depressed most of the time. I’m just lucky enough that I can stay afloat with treatment. 

That said, I can often feel myself sinking into a more serious state of depression. I’ve been there so many times now that I know the signs of my imminent unraveling as though they’re old friends (in many ways they are). I have trouble getting out of bed, I avoid other people, I can’t concentrate on work, and I no longer enjoy the things that I used to.

These signs don’t happen overnight, of course, but often, for me there is a kind of tipping point where the energy I’ve expended in trying to live “normally” (whatever the fuck that is) is completely depleted and I wake up wishing I hadn’t. 

You’ve been seeing me doing a lot of fic-writing lately. In some ways, that’s a good thing. When I got back into it, I’d just started enjoying telling stories again. But over the last several days, the joy has been leeched out of writing and while I go through the motions because I want so badly to feel even a shadow of the love that I used to have for the craft, it doesn’t satisfy like it used to. It’s not all bad, though. I get to talk to people through writing, so that helps a little bit to joke around and discuss various beloved characters and their motivations. 

But I think there’s one universal characteristic that all depressives tend to share – we spend so much of our efforts trying to face our demons and also face the world that we’re utterly exhausted by it. This is why people who are depressed stay in bed; we’re not lazy or unconcerned. Nor do we enjoy wallowing in our sorrow. We’re just really fucking tired. And the things that used to give us energy don’t really do it for us anymore.