idk what i'm even doing right now

(triggering content below the cut)

Hm.

I don’t know where to begin with this, so I’ll just jump right into it. Below the cut is a screenshot of a fic posted today in the Voltron tag. 

[Image description: Screenshot from the mobile ao3 page, taken on my phone. It includes the title of the fic, the author, the added tags, and the author’s summary of the fic.]

(Trigger warnings: Pedophilia, sh@ladin content, unhealthy relationships, sexual content (described in the fic’s tags), underage sex, statutory rape of a toddler)

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Blind // Yoo Kihyun - 03

Blind Chapter Two/ Three / Blind Chapter Four

The next evening had arrived much too quickly for Kihyun.

His heart was pounding in his throat as they drove up the mountain as they did normally, except this time he knew it was for him and not somebody else. He’d always listen to Jooheon chirp about the revered mountain, notorious for leaving no survivors. Wonho said he was giving Kihyun a chance, but that was overthought most of the night.

Minhyuk parked the truck in the same spot he always did, only he was incredibly confused as to why they were even here.  The two boys got out from the truck, the others filing from the trailer. Kihyun looked off into the distance, to the sunset, his right hand fiddling his knife—he had to put up some type of a fight or they’d bust Wonho for telling him.  

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smh i’m trying to redecorate Wes’ loft and i realized i have like 0 rugs from cleaning out my cc a few months ago. i closed my game to go hunt for some but ended up downloading 200 items of cc.. none of them were rugs.

pls.

8

#MLFandomWeek: Miraculous Holders | Secrets.

Centuries before now were created magical jewels granting fabulous powers: The Miraculous. Throughout history, heroes used these jewels for the good of humanity.

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)

I don’t know what to do about my face

The hormonal acne is getting worse and worse

It’s so painful and I want to pop them but I know that will 1) leave a scar and 2) they’re under the skin so it doesn’t even work

I hate it so much

Every time I wash my makeup off i can’t stand to look in the mirror

It looks like a huge rash on the right side of my face

I’m in tears

This is so horrible, I’m not used to it and I feel for anyone struggling it’s acne right now

He's trying...
  • Edward: Okay… I’ve analyzed the problems with the previous two nygma-plans. Relying on the injectors introduced too many complicating variables. Now we only have to rely on simple physics! We’ll wait until Batman gets right up under us, not suspecting a thing - because he’s so dumb - and then we’ll drop this rock right on his stupid head! It’s even more flawless! And at this height, nothing can fall on us!
  • Jonathan: What if he doesn’t stop where we want him to?
  • Edward: I’M DOING THE BEST I CAN, JONATHAN!

A Sesshomaru for Valentine’s Day

ANNNNND here he is!! My one true Valentine. 

For the low low price of $00.000000001, here he is, right on your dash!!

Idk what’s wrong with me, I’m sorry lmao

Buut anyways! Pls enjoy this beautiful grumpy boy if you do not have a Valentine, or if you do have a Valentine, or if you just love Sesshomaru like I do. 

Happy Valentine’s Day!!

I really am going to bed but I just saw a squirrel curl himself up into a spiky ball of mostly-tail and he just

rolled

right

off

the rock he was sitting on.

And now he appears to be playing peekaboo in the pond reeds. By himself.

It’s 7am and I just thought you might like to know.

anonymous asked:

Hi viki :) I'm feelin really anxious rn and my insomnias bitchin @ me again so I was wondering when you have time and if you feel like it maybe writing a lil evak drabble?? Idk just what they are doing today and maybe include the holy trinity of Even, isak and Sana bc.. cmon it's so pure 💗ly

HIIIII LOVE, alrgiht hmm right now they are in bed all cuddled up, the tv is on not too loud ,even has his back against the wall,isaks head in his lap, even is running his fingers through isaks hair ,his other hand around isaks shoulder, holding his hand (which sometimes starts to get a lil uncomfy bc of the position but they work it out), even says something but isak cant hear him properly so he hums and it vibrates through his body, against evens leg and it makes even so aware of isak being there and his heart skips a beat, and he starts smiling and then repeats what he said ,smth like “i said that woman is probably the one who shot first” (they are watchin some show like csi or idk, theyre too tired and comfortable to change the channel) and isak starts explaining why its not her and even isnt really listening bc isaks voice is so soft ,it makes him doze off and if isak realizes ,he doesnt wake him up. then theyre gonna wake up in the morning, isaks up first for a change and he’s making coffee and even drags himself out to the kitchen when he smells it and he’s kissing the top of isaks head, mumbling a god morgen into his hair and isak smiles and wow. when did he start smiling so early in the morning (ever since he knew even) and even sits down at the little table they set up until the real one gets there, the chairs arent the final ones either but they might keep it bc its actually comfortable? sometimes feels like its gonna break but. then isak sets the cup of coffee in front of even, and then he sits down too to a much more stable chair and his legs bump into a box next to him, “we gotta move this for real, this happened too many times now” and even laughs like “why havent you moved it yet, then” and isak shrugs, he really doesnt know?? anyway, after coffee they decide to walk down to this cute small restaurant on the end of the street to get breakfast and theyre laughing and talking when sana is walking towards them and they both raise their eyebrows and go “sanaaa!!” and sana smiles ,that cute lil dimple smile,and isaks like “where are u headed” and sanas like “wanted to get something before im off to training” and then evens like “join us, yeah?” with a big smile and they sit in the restaurant and get food and theyre talking and sana asks them hows the living together going and they say its been real fun and theyre super excited and then theyre like “you should totally come over!” and sanas like “…you havnt unpacked yet hm” teasing and evens like “ah, isaks so laaazy” and isaks hits him playfully and they laugh and then sana promises them that she’ll drop by in the afternoon:’)) i HOPE U LIKED IT idk what this was but i hope you’ll feel better and have a nice sleep<3333

anonymous asked:

For some reason I was fine with Clarke and niylah (upset at first but saw reason) but I'm like... not convinced they are going to make bellarke endgame anymore, at least not in S4 now that bellamy is having sex with other girls. Idk, it feels like he's moving on almost? Idk why I'm stressed about this right now help

That’s the thing.

He is moving on.

He’s letting go. Letting go of the need to be the savior. Letting go of having to do the right thing. Letting go of the guilt for what happens when it all goes wrong, when he makes the wrong choice, when he hurts people, when they die. He’s letting go of his need to have Octavia be what she was. He’s letting go of his tight hold on everything. He’s letting go of his self control.

But you’re thinking that means he’s letting go of Clarke.

But he never had Clarke. Even his feelings for Clarke are CONSTANTLY kept on a tight leash, restrained, held back, pushed away. He never even allowed himself to FEEL what he feels for her. 

Admitting that he has feelings under that hero persona, under the leader, under the urge to always take care of himself, means actually that he’s CLOSER to whatever it is with Clarke than ever before.

When they get together now, it won’t be because they have an explosion they can’t control. Bellamy released the tension that was building. But you wanna know why that’s good?

Because when they get together it will be because they recognize how they feel, what they mean to each other, they are letting go of fear, and CHOOSING to be together.

There is more than one way to make a romance happen.

This isn’t going to be something where they can’t control themselves anymore. It’s going to be REAL.

(witness my adjustment of my Bellarke predictions as each new episode brings us new information about Bellamy and Clarke’s character development and the romantic tension they are absolutely STILL building. No more “BOOM EXPLOSION” in my prediction. Or not the same. It’s going to be more sincere. Still hot damn though.)

Honestly, if you're in a fandom you're a creative person and nobody can convince me otherwise.

Seriously, just think about. For most people when they enjoy some kind of story (a book, a movie, etc) they won’t question the plot too much. Like, they may think critically about the material but, they probably won’t feel the need to change it/do their own thing with it. Whereas someone involved in fandom will never be 100% happy with the base storyline, they will want change it slightly or even repurpose the characters for themselves (AUs). The source material will inspire them to write fanfictions, draw fanarts, maybe even just writing down little HC and reblog things they like on Tumblr. Hell, even if the person doesn’t really create anything for the fandom they are still imagining changing the source material, be it with shipping, or reading fanfics (though those things usually go hand in hand) and… wait where am I going with this again? I should be sleeping right now so why am I writing this for no good reason?

Conclusion: fandoms they creative but they keep you up way 2 late on Sunday nights

You ever just stay awake staring at the ceiling until 3 am remembering that a Keith and Allura love plot line might happen and feel the fear of God strike your heart because that’s me right now

Things I Should Have Said:

I am not a great writer.
I’m not a great poet, either.
You can tell by the fact that I have a very simple title,
     a very simple theme-
          it’s stated right there in the title, so you can’t miss it-
     a very simple premise.
Everything about me is simple,
     which is why it was so easy to stand shell-shocked when we met.

          Although.  Shell-shocked would likely refer not to how
          I felt but to warriors of many countries and their veterans,
          and if I research it, then it probably has more of a PTSD vibe,
          which is not how I felt at all.  Maybe deer in headlights would
          work better.  Yes- the feeling of standing in front of what is
          terrible and moving beyond me and if it touches me I might die,
          that almost fits better.  But neither of those terms really takes
          in the feeling of anxiety leading up to the event.  Perhaps shell-
          shocked is better for that – a deer certainly cannot know that
          it will be hit by a car, not until just before, and perhaps doesn’t
          even realize until after the fact, light slowly but surely glimmering
          from its eyes, while scavengers arrive hours, days, weeks afterwards,
          unbothered by the smell, simply wanting something on which to feast.

               We are all so hungry.

          But a deer in headlights can have an impact on the car which destroys
          it – there’s an equal amount of destruction, as the thickly built body
          of the deer can also damage and potentially end the life of the thickly
          built body of the car.  We complain about the deer, but the deer never
          really gets a chance to complain about us.

               Not that I’m complaining.
               I have not been destroyed by meeting you, nor
               am I left traumatized by the event.
               You, I suspect, have not been destroyed by it either, if
               you remember it at all.
               I wouldn’t remember me, either.

I am not a great writer.
If this were prose, it might be easier, but I think it might miss the weight of what I want to say.
     Wanted to say, in retrospect.
     It’s funny – you will likely never read this, and yet I am compelled to write it.
     I never said I wasn’t a writer.  Just not a great one.
Besides, what writer gets so distracted over simple word choice they spend so long expanding on it?
     Ones who don’t sell.
     Unless the word choice – not quite lightning but close enough – is the whole point.
     I spend a lot of words in writing saying what I could not say verbally.
     Fill in the gaps, so to speak.
          Maybe I hope one of those will be lightning.
          But that would return us to the whole destruction vibe, and as I said,
          we were not destroyed by each other.

I am not a great writer.
     I get distracted.  Blatantly.

I am not a great poet.
     A great poet would have given this a modern title.
     The title would be part of the poem itself.
     This would be much more imagery and floweriness and
           less of this blunt speak that comes from years of focusing on prose.

I am not a great speaker.
     If I were, I doubt this poem would be written.

I am not great—
     If I were, I believe the world would be different.
     Maybe I am great.

We met a grand total of three times.
     All of this came at little financial cost to me personally.
     My way was paid.
     I doubt it cost you much.  In fact, I think you were paid for it.
     Unintentional similarity.
     Perhaps we are both deer.
In all three occasions I was given a chance to speak with you, in one form or another.
     The first I did not take because I did not know what to say.
          Because I was along for the ride.
          Because I did not want to get in the way of people who loved you more.
          Because I did not want to ruin it for a friend who wasn’t even there.
     The second I did not take until you spoke first—

          They run us through like cattle and you do not touch.
          We stand next to you briefly and a light flashes and the car is coming
          and we smile as it hits and move on, never knowing that we are dead.
          You do not touch because you do not want to.
          We do not touch because we are not allowed.
          They read a line of what we cannot do because they protect you.
          You are the prized cattle, an impeccable statue, and you have trained
          yourself to be just that because maybe that will keep the craziness off.
          Because when you stand for hours while people are whisked by every few
          seconds, it is easier to make yourself comfortable.  Maybe, eventually, you
          are.  Most of us never will be.  There is too much fear in looking like a fool
          beside you.

I did not expect to talk in either of these, and perhaps that is why I could not speak at the last.
     Perhaps I simply spent too much time overthinking it, the way people do, worrying that I
     would end up pissing you off (easily enough forgotten, but I did not want you to have a bad
     taste in your mouth over me more than you already must have – that is simply me coloring
     the situation, perhaps there was no bad taste in your mouth at all.  You have already
     forgotten our names, but we never forget yours), or, worse still, worrying that I would end
     up rambling on things you did not care about, as I do with people who love me, or ending
     up in territory that I would rather you did not know – not for my sake, but for the sake of the
     person who was not there with me and should have been.

You asked me who she was, and all I could say was:
     “She’s a friend online.”
You tried to talk to me, as one sometimes does with animals, and I,
     still stuck in that they want me to get things done and move on mentality,
     said very little.
     I do not remember much more of the conversation.
     We have that in common.

I should not have said anything about myself.
I am not great:
     not as a writer, my chosen profession;
     not as a poet, my chosen manner of speaking;
     not as a person, my chosen identification.
I have little ambition.
     I write, but not much that can be published.
     I sing, but not consistently and not in a way that someone hasn’t already done better.
     I work, but in a deadbeat job that only barely pays bills.
          As I said before, I did not pay to meet you.
          I could not.

“She’s a friend online.”

That is true enough.
     She is a friend online.
     She reintroduced me to your work.
     She has seen everything you have ever been in.
     She follows you.
     She takes on your characters and writes them.
     She analyzes your work.
     She writes papers on your arts.
     She loves you.

I am here in her shoes, and I am not great, and all I can say in her defense is where we met.

She is great.
     She would have words to say to you that I cannot even imagine.
     She knows you as well as she can.
     She learns, she studies.
     She would never have been tongue-tied.
     She is not cattle, and she is not shell-shocked, and she is not a deer in headlights-
           she is the car,
           she is the headlight,
           she is the road who is splattered by the blood of our meeting,
                who is thoroughly touched by that small interaction,
                who is not destroyed by it.

I am not much in comparison.
I am here because I have the opportunity.
We may never meet again.
She will meet you on her own terms one day,
     whether by opportunity or by the sheer force of her greatness,
and when she does, you will remember her.

I have only this to give her.
     A picture.
     An autograph.
     A story.
I have words on her behalf to you.
     Nothing you would remember.
     Nothing that, on meeting her later, you would see me.
     Nothing about anything of importance.

I am not allowed to touch you.

I say nothing.

Just trying this again…. Thought I’d make up a proper chart with prices and examples. Don’t forget I have lots of original black and white and colored pen drawings in my art tag if you’re interested in those.

Medical bills from being incredibly sick from Dec-Jan, including an ER visit, + spaying my cat have set me back quite a bit. Living paycheck to paycheck is really stressful, and while I could go into much more detail, I’m always anxious that it sounds like whining, so I tend not to. But I will say that I had to ask my brother to pay my electric bill for this month because it was going to be shut off. And that really sucks. If I have an emergency, I have no savings whatsoever to cover it. That’s where I am right now. And my sweet kitten really needs to be spayed so that she’s not miserable anymore, so it’s something I’ve got to suck up and do, even if it means eating beans and rice til the end of the month.

I’m sure lots of you can relate. If you’re not interested in a commission or purchase of a piece, reblogs are appreciated!

what a shame someone hates me time to delete my blog 💔💔💔

A flash of light stopped Eycis in her tracks. Kneeling, she ordered her soldiers to do the same with a hand signal. Not a word was spoken between them; the only sounds she heard were the howls of the summer winds, even the surrounding brush stayed silent. 

Another flash of light had her focus in on the area. Tents, lots of large tents. Fires, and one large bonfire in what appeared to be the center of the makeshift base. It was quite a distance away; ten kilometers if she had to guess. From the maps and the scouts’ reports, that had to have been an enemy camp. Even from here, Eycis heard joyous yells. Idiots, she snarled. Thank the Fate her soldiers knew what they were doing.

A rustle in a bush to her right had her reach for her sword. Eycis looked behind her to ensure that it wasn’t any of her own, but there they kneeled, still as stones. She only brought three soldiers; it was all that she needed to take the enemy unawares or, at the very least, spy for more information.

The rustling grew louder and closer. She looked again behind her to signal her telekinetic corporal to retrieve whatever it was compromising their position. He nodded her command and placed his fingers to his forehead. A steady glow of purple came from his amethyst and he gritted his teeth as he concentrated on this unknown target. 

Leaning forward, Eycis readied herself for the attack. The bushes parted and gave birth to a massive man surrounded by a purple aura. His irritated grunts turned into shouts as he flailed helplessly in the air. Eycis ran towards him, sword unsheathed.

 “Found you bastards!” His husky voice sounded familiar but she couldn’t remember where she heard it. It gave her only a second’s pause before resuming her attack.

Eycis’ sword dug into the earth as she lifted it to strike him underneath. The purple aura disappeared when she attempted to land her blow. The man was suddenly gone and she felt an unnatural pull on her body. 

She backed away and fell to the ground before she was able to catch herself. “Who was that? What did he just do? Where’d he go?” 

“I don’t know, sir.” One of them peeped as the others shrugged. They didn’t seem to care; they were looking back at the enemy’s camp.

The shouts from the distance turned from joyous to angry. “Let’s go,” She scrambled to her feet, re-sheathing her sword. “We’re compromised.”





Yay, ok, so I totally just wrote that on a whim to go with the thingy I drew up there! I’m pretty sure it’s super shitty because I totally edited NOTHING!!!! It’s not much combat or excitement going on in this. I really was trying to see if I could write a different type of scene. Anyways, back to the thingy thingy, I rarely color and even less so watercolors. I was just painting because I hadn’t done art in SOOOO LONG! This is her (incomplete) armor that she wears while in service for the king.

HA! 

I wrote an article completely on my own, without any class to make me. 

Granted, it took about 5 months of off and on research and not really knowing what I was doing. 

And it’s in very rough form right now and who knows if I’ve done it right

It was pretty agonizing for a while, since I really didn’t know its focus and could NOT find sources. ALmost gave up. I did like reading the books, though. The problem with books is that if they deal with current events they’re almost always out of date, compared with a web site. 

and what will I do with this article, you may ask? 

put it on a blog, perhaps. I don’t know who else would want it. It’s mainly an exercise anyway, to see how to do it, to see if I could take a research question and find things out on my own. 

maybe next time will not be so difficult. 

I mean, articles should NOT take that long to write. 

now that I know kinda how it’s done, maybe it won’t take so long and I’ll sorta know what i’m doing, maybe. 

if I decide to go through this experience again haha